A.N.: You guys need to look up Mercy Graves on if you want to understand this story. She's part of the whole Superman world, and you all should learn about her anyway, because she's very interesting. Hopefully it will make the story more enjoyable for everyone. Thanks for the comments, keep it up! XOXO
CHAPTER 30
Clark ran a hand through his dark hair and wearily removed his glasses as he closed the door to his tiny, walk-up Metropolis apartment and collapsed on his bed. The Daily Planet, plus his side job of saving the world on occasion, could be excruciatingly tiring. Working with Lois was more of a hassle than ever, but he found he missed the bantering and her caustic wit every night, to the point where he couldn't wait to get to work in the morning just to be called "Smallville" again, or her new favorite nickname for him, "Poindexter", based on the unfortunate, thick, black frames he now sported at work. He kicked off his shoes against the foot of his bed and closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion take over. Halfway between sleep and consciousness, a sharp rapping noise sounded against his front door. Clark dragged himself out of bed, not bothering to deal with his rumbled suit, and padded through the hall back to the front door.
"Hello?" He opened the door and looked around the empty hallway. A quick x-ray scan of the premises showed nothing out of the ordinary. He sped down the stairs at light speed and stood outside. A couple of rowdy teenagers hanging out by the bus stop, an apparently intoxicated gentleman stumbling down the street in high spirits... nothing out of the ordinary. As he was about to turn around, he caught the eye of a girl leaning against a wall across the street. The image stood out in his brain as he faced the door to his building: the blonde hair, the ripped jeans, and the way she had been staring right at him. After a second of hesitation, he turned back around to face her, but she was gone.
He really needed to get more sleep. Clark shrugged off the image and climbed back up the five flights of stairs to his apartment, which lucky for him wasn't as difficult as it was for the other people living on his floor. By his door was a manila envelope, how could he have missed it before? He picked it up and examined it as he re-entered his apartment, flipping the locks shut one after the other out of habit.
CLARK KENT-
He ripped the envelope open and a thick packet dropped heavily to the floor, followed by a small scrap of paper. He picked up the paper and read the scribbled handwriting.
Thought this might be useful to you. Stay safe.
-A Friend
Very strange. Slightly disturbed, Clark kneeled down on the floor and reached for the packet of paper.
Lex had known instinctively when Mercy had gotten out of his bed around three in the morning, redressing herself quietly and leaving the room. He had heard her ease the door closed and tiptoe stealthily down the hall and right out the front door. He had lain in bed awake, unable to fall back asleep, his thoughts plagued by business deals, tax evasion, and more personal questions that, to his dismay, still remained unanswered. He was awake then when, to his surprise, he heard the door reopen and the familiar light footsteps head back toward his room. Lex quickly shut his eyes and rolled over, slowing his breathing in a deliberate approximation of sleep as she carefully removed her jeans, jacket, and t-shirt, placed them in specific locations on the floor and crawled softly back into bed. She paused a minute, hovering over his body in her underwear, as if to check his breathing, but deciding that it was steady in sleep, she slid between the covers and rolled over onto her side to face Lex's back. Keeping his breathing paced properly became more difficult as she reached a hand tentatively up and rest it on his back, spreading her fingers wide directly between his shoulder blades. The heat transferred from her skin to his own was almost painful, but he forced himself calm under her touch until, strangely enough, he managed to fall asleep.