Long Shot
By Goodbye Caroline
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story (so far). They are not original beings from my own head; I'm just borrowing them for my own enjoyment. (And yours too.) That is all.
AN: So here's chapter 3. Things are moving along here. I have the whole plot planned out (for the most part…) and I hope you all enjoy this next installment. Reviews are nice, I don't like begging for them, but they are really useful when I am trying to improve my writing. Tell me what you think; it'll be useful to me. Thank you, and enjoy.
--Chapter Three—
She awoke the next morning very much alone. She began to smell a very intense burning odor. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out a wall of smoke. She rose immediately and looked outside the helicopter cabin. It took two palms and most of the brush, but the plumes must have risen about 100 feet. Maybe more. She had to smile for a second. Here was a man who would never call for help, not even if he were stranded alone. He has lost his mind.
Then she saw it, a small dark speck on the horizon line. After rubbing her eyes, she concluded that it was not a mirage. Lex wouldn't be stupid enough to burn most of the vegetation if he wasn't certain it was truly a boat.
Climbing carefully out of the helicopter she was greeted by an unusually cheerful Lex.
"This is it! We're rescued!" He said gesturing wildly to the inferno.
"Lex, are you sure they're not just going to take us to prison?" She asked carefully.
"Why would they? It's clearly not an American ship. They have no reason to." He replied, quite convinced in his judgment.
She squinted back out to sea, the speck was definitely moving closer to the island, but that's all it was: a speck. "Are you sure?"
He gave her a stern look, "Get your stuff ready," and walked off. That was it, he decided. She stomped off to collect what belongings she had left. She hoped she'd still get to keep them in prison.
--
They were French. Three hours of fierce and heated bilingual negotiation resulted in a tank of gasoline and a good meal. She never found out what kind of ship it was or what business their new French friends were in. In fact, she didn't really say anything at all. No matter, her non-involvement was essential to her companion's master plan of obtaining petroleum and avoiding a trip to prison.
That's how it always is. Either she's a diversion, spy or just sits around and looks pretty. Although, after three days of very little food, not bathing, and sitting in the sun, she was fairly sure she was anything but pretty.
A short time later, and they were flying once more. The tiny island became distant again. She let out a sigh of relief and turned to her partner, "Where are we going Lex?"
"To my father's old vacation home, just outside Metropolis." He said with a blank stare at the limitless ocean before them.
"And they won't find us there?" she inquired.
He sighed, "They couldn't find a needle if it were stuck in their noses."
"But what about—" she started.
"He won't be a problem," He snapped.
"But—", she was worried.
"Kitty, if you say one more word while we're in this helicopter, you will regret it." He said harshly and without question. He was aggravated, tired and hungry. Even in his best of physical states, he was capable of vocalizing harsh statements in a heartbeat. He scared her quiet for the entire duration of the flight.
Even when they finally arrived at the magnificent manor Lex called "The Hill House", she was dead silent. The house was true to its name, surrounding the structure was a vast expanse of rolling hills and small crops of woodland. There was a great menacing gate surrounding the property. The rusted blackness of the gate made for a stark contrast to the white fencing and bright green shrubbery in the neighboring houses. Even though there was a good half-acre between each estate, The Hill House stuck out like a soar thumb. It was surprising that he would pick such a conspicuous hideout, but she knew Lex was very much on the dramatic side and the house somehow suited his extravagant tastes.
The imposing baroque-like architecture of the exterior was met with the contrasting modern interior. The outside may have been his father's, but the inside screamed Lex.
Upon entering, he stormed into what appeared to be the library and shouted out to his female companion, "Choose a room and make yourself presentable, we need groceries."
"Why do I have to get them?" she shouted back.
He popped his head out from behind large, mahogany doors, "Yes, let's have the easily recognized criminal mastermind out in public. I won't be spotted at all! In fact, there is no chance in hell that Superman won't sweep in from the sky and take me back to prison!"
"Is there anything in particular you want?" She snapped.
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, "Cashews." He quickly disappeared behind the doors, which were slammed shut seconds later.
She sighed loudly and stomped up the stairs. Let's hope for both our sakes there's a liquor store nearby.
TBC