Reaper

"Mrphl."

"Well put."

"What time is it?"

"I dunno. Sunlight-in-the-eye time, I guess. How do you feel?"

"Fell asleep with a concussion."

"Yes, you did."

"And yet I am alive."

"Maybe you slipped into a coma."

"Even you would have noticed that. How was sleeping in the chair?"

"Yeah. Right. Because I don't have my own bedroom around here. I've been awake for, like, three hours."

"You have?"

"Okay, fifteen minutes. Whatever. I was just waiting for you to rejoin the land of the non-bitch-smacked before I left. So, see you."

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah. I've got stuff to do."

"It's the weekend. What stuff could you possibly have to do?"

"You don't know, I could have some secret life that you're totally unaware of."

"You have a secret life."

"That's not what I said. I said I could. If I wanted."

"Joining up with Captain X and his gang?"

"Professor X. Professor X. You read one comic when you're a kid and you think you're Kevin Smith."

"Who?"

"For the love of pretzels. I'm leaving. I'll call you later."

"Bye."

"Bye. And don't get thrown out of any moving cars for the next few days."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get my leotard and laser gun to go fight my archnemiseses in Metropolis. Go back to sleep."

"Archnemisises?"

"Archnemeses. And shut up."

"G'night."

*

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey. Battle any Archnemeses today?"

"Besides my evil brother who's hell-bent on world domination?"

"But what I really want to do is direct."

"What?"

"Never mind. So what's up?"

"Nothing. I'm just—hey, why do we have a football team?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, the Sharks. Why'd Dad buy them? He hates football, he never goes. We never go. What's the point?"

"It's something that everyone can identify with, Lilly. Lionel Luthor, owner of LuthorCorp but more importantly, owner of the Metropolis Sharks. It's good PR."

"Expensive PR."

"What brought that on?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering why we had the team if we never went to see them."

"Speak for yourself. I've gone to a few games."

"Ooh. Taken Clark yet?"

"No, I—shut up."

"I'm just saying, young man like that, former varsity player, maybe he'd like to see the action."

"I'm hanging up on you."

"All the broad shoulders, tight pants—okay, okay, I'll stop. Anyway. When did you ever go?"

"A few times, with a few people."

"And the evasivity rears its head."

"I'm not being evasive, I just don't remember. We've had the team for a while."

"Good point. Hey, what ever happened to that twerp you had try out for the team?"

"Twerp?"

"Yeah, the one from Smallville. Wasn't he Lana Lang's main squeeze or something?"

"He still is. He's finishing up school."

"He didn't get on the team."

"Turned out not to be necessary."

"That must've broken his poor little heart."

"I'm crying on the inside. What sparked this conversation?"

"Nothing. I just, I invited someone to go, and he said no. So I just wondered what the use of having a football team was if we couldn't even get a damn date out of it."

"The eternal question."

"Seriously, you should take Clark. It'd thrill him to tiny little bits."

"I'm not dating Clark."

"I've got an idea! You take Clark, I'll take Bo Duke. It'll be great."

"I take it back. He doesn't look like Bo Duke."

"Yes he does."

"He looks like the other one."

"Eewww, the other one was gross."

"Yeah, well, that's what Clark's dad looks like."

"Then that's what Clark will grow up to look like."

"He's adopted."

"Oh. Well, maybe he'll grow up to look like him anyway."

"That's a fate I would wish on no man."

*

"You did a good thing, bringing them."

"You're about to say something terrible."

"I am not!"

"You have the face that you have whenever you're about to say something terrible."

"All I said was that it was a good thing, bringing them to the game. He's not a bad player."

"How do you know?"

"I'll revise that to say that he looks really good with the shoulder pads and the tight pants."

"It's a surprisingly forgiving outfit on some."

"So, we're done with the bonding and the family vibes and everything?"

"Just about."

"Okay. Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Come on. It's a surprise."

"That sounds ominous."

*

"Huh."

"Try again."

"It's… quiet."

"Too quiet."

"It's beautiful, too."

"Yes it is. Come on, stuff's in the trunk."

"What stuff?"

"Well, all the gear is in the cabin already, so—"

"Gear? Is this—oh, my God. That's a boat."

"Yep."

"This is a fishing trip, isn't it?"

"Well, I figured—oof. Okay."

"Thank you."

"Your welcome. Lex?"

"Mmm?"

"I can't breathe."

"Oh, right."

"Not that I don't like the hugging. Just, you know, a little less, um, enthusiasm."

"What's in the trunk?"

"Traditional foodstuffs. And S'mores."

"S'mores?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what a S'more is."

"I won't tell you that."

"Do you ever… are you, like, an alien from another planet who hasn't mastered the art of cultural absorption?"

"That sounds painful."

"Seriously. You don't know what a S'more is."

"Seriously."

"Okay. I can't believe—you do know what a marshmallow is, right?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"I can even spell it."

"Have you ever eaten one?"

"In hot cocoa."

"I mean one that's been toasted."

"Toasted. No."

"You really need to get out more. I'm concerned. It might already be too late for you."

"Hey, you're my sister. How come you're so culturally astute?"

"Because I watch MTV and, you know, things other than C-SPAN. Come on."

"On where?"

"See the stack of logs, placed at right angles to form a rough cube-shaped structure? That will be our living quarters."

"We're going to sleep in there?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

"I get the bed, you get the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace."

"There's a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace?"

"Don't drop all that—Lex, we can take more than one trip."

"I want to see the inside."

"I… okay, we'll see the inside."

"Where's the key?"

"No key."

"No key?"

"No key. There's nothing around us for miles."

"Exactly. Just because this is the more traditional wilderness, doesn't mean there aren't wild animals."

"Well, unless they've mastered the knob door handle, I think we're good for now."

"Nice. Rustic. Um."

"Yes, we have a toilet."

"Thank God."

"Wuss."

"Hey, I'm all for roughing it, but there's a reason that plumbing is considered one of the benchmarks of civilization."

"You have to pee, don't you."

"Which way to the benchmark of civilization, please?"

"To your right."

"Okay."

"And out the door."

"What?"

"It's an outhouse."

"What?"

"It's got a real toilet in there, it's not disgusting, relax. It's just outside."

"Oh my—does it at least have toilet paper?"

"Yes it does, Princess McPrissy."

"Any reading material?"

"Well, there might be last week's Entertainment Weekly in there or something, I dunno. We're borrowing this place."

"From whom?"

"Go pee."

"Who are we borrowing this place from?"

"Whom."

"I'm going to pee now."

"You do that. I'll unpack."

*

"That People magazine was more than a week old."

"Sorry to hear that."

"I'm shocked that Julia Roberts and Benjamin Bratt broke up."

"Yes, in the past year, that has been the media event to rock the nation."

"I'm just saying, it looked like the perfect relationship."

"No relationship is perfect."

"So whose place is this?"

"Bruce Wayne's."

"Oh, really."

"Yes, really. And shut up, we're just friends."

"Okay."

"Shut up!"

"I said okay! I'm not saying anything other than okay! So calm down."

"He's just a friend! No hostile takeovers or anything!"

"Glad to hear it."

"Okay. Anyway. I brought most of the stuff in, but there's still some in the back seats."

"All that was in the trunk of the car?"

"Yep."

"Impressive."

"Well, you fit a body in there, so…"

*

"What's that noise?"

"Jesus. Calm down."

"Once you tell me what that noise was."

"The Blair Witch."

"Okay. See? That wasn't so hard."

"Do you get that cultural reference?"

"There was a cultural reference?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Your marshmallow's on fire."

"I like them burnt."

"You like them on fire."

"Yes."

"Pyro."

"So what do we do now? Sing songs? Tell ghost stories?"

"Sure."

"Sure to which option?"

"We could… sing scary songs. About ghosts."

"I don't know any scary songs about ghosts."

"Me neither. We could talk about Dad."

"That's a little too scary, even for me."

"He said he was proud of you?"

"Along those lines."

"For stuffing Dom into the back of your car? Most dads are proud when their son hits his first home run in Little League or something."

"This is a special family."

"Where every family reunion is an opportunity to scheme."

"That's not a good motto."

"Mmph. Well, God punished you there."

"I can still get it—ow!"

"Hee hee hee! Hee!"

"Shut up and get me… the ointment."

"Hee!"

"Shut up."

"Hee. And that ointment was for the mosquitoes, not for burns."

"Well, it worked this afternoon."

"Here, just put one of the compresses on it."

"Thanks. Ow."

"Here."

"You don't burn yours."

"And you drop yours into the fire, so you'll have to consider which is the lesser evil. Take it."

"Where are the graham crackers?"

"I think we used them all up."

"I'm full, anyway."

"Yeah. Good fish."

"Are we doing this tomorrow, too?"

"If you want. I've got the place for the weekend."

"Huh. So."

"Uh-oh."

"Bruce Wayne let you borrow this place."

"Shut up."

"I'd just like to know what his intentions are."

"To be crazy and, you know. Insane."

"Yes. I meant in terms of you."

"I was talking about in terms of me. And shut up."

"He spent a period of time with you in Metropolis—"

"Shut up."

"And he's loaned you the use of his cabin—"

"Shut up."

"I'd just like to know if this is going anywhere."

"And I'd just like to know when you're going to shut up."

"You're not being very mature about this, Lilly."

"You're not shutting up about this, Lex."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Good, because I'm not telling you, so we'll be sure not to tell anybody about anything."

"I'll tell you about Clark."

Silence. "You're just saying that to get me to spill the beans."

"I might have had a slightly different relationship than I have, up until now, represented to you."

"Nuh-uh."

"As clever as that retort is, I think I may have piqued your interest. So come on. What's going on."

Silence. "Nope. No. You're lying, and I'm not telling."

"You're hurting my feelings."

"Yeah, well, I'm practicing."

*

"Hey. Hey." Pause. "Lilly, wake up."

"Mpifpl."

"Good morning."

"Ooh. My tummy hurts."

"Yeah. Mine, too. You want some coffee?"

"Sure. Ugh. This is not a comfy bed."

"Bearskin rug's pretty comfortable, if you want to switch tonight."

"Nice try, but the ghost of the angry bear might come in the night and eat me."

"Well. There's that consideration, for sure."

"Always put safety first. Besides, we have to leave this afternoon. You've got work and I've got school."

"True. Here."

"Oh, I love you! Coffee! Warm and nice and, wow, you put way too much sugar in. Ew."

"How am I supposed to remember how you like it?"

"Question. How many teaspoons did you dump in here?"

"Well, there was only that tablespoon, so—"

"Okay. Let me get up and I'll figure out something for breakfast."

"I already made breakfast."

Silence.

"Okay, I made toast."

"Burnt toast."

"Yes. But toast."

"You need to learn the virtues of a balanced meal. Come on."