"So the President of the United States can keep his appointment, but Smallville had some kind of emergency and ditched me." Lois Lane sounded ten percent amused, ninety percent pissed.

"Ms. Lane-"

"And dammit, I just missed Superman by a few minutes, too." That was one hundred percent pissed.

"Ms. Lane, I'm sure that Clark had some excellent reason."

"I never could rely on that man," she grumbled, looking out the window as though Superman just might come back. "Now, Superman, on the other hand..." Lex cleared his throat. "Well, since we can't do the Seek Out project interview-what the hell is that?"

Lex turned to where Lois was pointed. His bust of Alexander the Great was sporting a shredded tie and he crossed the room to examine it. "One of Clark Kent's, as it happens." He examined the red and blue pattern. "One of the cats' more justified acts of destruction." Well, he might as well try to appease Lois with a human interest story and turned on the charm with a crooked smile. "I've tried to explain to them that Alexander is a figure of epic importance in history, a man who ruled most of the known world during his time, was known for his brilliant strategy, his lust for exploration and for learning more about the world than any other man, as well as ruling more of it. While he could drive his enemies to annihilation, he could also be deeply magnanimous towards his defeated opponents and the spirit of generosity." He paused. "All those are reasons not to drape things over his head." He decided he'd almost gotten a snicker, and she had her notebook back out.

"What sorts of other things?"

"Hairballs. Shrimp shells. My headphones. A dandelion."

"A dandelion?"

"Three possible explanations. One, a commentary that Alexander was blond. Two, the word dandelion comes from the French 'dent de lion,' or lion tooth, after the shape of the leaf. Three, they just wanted to throw me for a loop."

"That's all?"

"By no means. A copy of an old map, covered with paw prints and other...editorial comments. Stones from their collars. My socks." Lex paused. "Other pieces of my clothing."

Lois couldn't cover up her chortle. "What color?"

He didn't think that underwear colors were at all relevant to reporters and gave her the repressive look that could control rooms full of rabid politicians, if the adjective isn't redundant. Naturally, it had no effect, so he continued.

"A strip of rather old smoked salmon they'd stashed away somewhere. Mistletoe. And before you ask, no, I didn't."

"What else?"

Lex hesitated. He'd left some out, of course. The Furies had once gotten hold of Chloe's underwear. (It wasn't pink.) They'd also once given several of Lionel's important papers a thorough dunking in their water bowls, until just enough print remained to identify their importance, and then plastered the bust in an almost paper mache effect. Oh, to hell with not interfering with matters of the heart. "Once they even got Superman's cape." Lois's eyes widened. "While he was wearing it." Lois needed to get a lot less starry-eyed about Clark Kent's alter ego and pay more attention to the real thing.

Now, if there had been a real Warrior Angel and she'd gotten a crush on him, that would have been understandable.

AN: As always with these, TheDiehard is so very, very much to blame.