[I'm in love] With the world through the eyes [of a girl who's] still around

(or Evr'a body in they Sunday best)

*

Saturday Night, Oct. 12

Lex couldn't be sure it was Isis in the car with Peter Ross as they drove past him and the Talon, but turning to watch them go by he caught sight of what seemed to be rainbow streamers flying out the passenger window that were, inexplicably, attached to a person's head. Isis, most assuredly.

He'd had Enrique drop her off at the Ross' as soon as she was able to go, much earlier that afternoon. Around four or so, when he had been too busy frustrated over yet another piddling point his father refused to let go, and couldn't be bothered to see, talk or even listen to another soul, his answering service had recorded a single message for the entire hour. " 'Til next time." The five and six o'clock hours were busier -- last minute business calls before stock exchange floors closed for the day. Seven had been deadly quiet. Lex hadn't gotten around to checking his messages until sometime around nine.

And now it was after ten with the two younger Rosses returning from a trip to Metropolis, apparently. Lex contemplated the cousins over lukewarm coffee. Milk. No sugar.

"Lex?"

He looked up. "What can I do for you Miss Lang?"

"Get up," Lana said frankly. "Go home. I don't mean to be rude, Lex, but it's going on eleven and I still need to finish cleaning," she pointed to his cup, saucer and the remains of a pastry. "And then I have to lock up . . . It's not like you're going to do it," she murmured, rolling her eyes, turning her back on Lex.

"Sure, I will."

Lana spun around. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. You didn't just agree to close Talon for me so I can get out of here, did you? No way. I must be losing my mind."

"But I did," Lex affirmed as he slid smoothly out of his seat and closed the small distance between them. "You've obviously had a long day and would probably like nothing better than a long hot bath, or a refreshing shower." He watched as Lana's eyes began to shine thinking of the wonders hot running water could work. "I've helped you close once or twice before. It isn't very hard."

"What about the keys?" Lana asked, shaking herself out of her fantasy.

"You don't have a spare set?"

"Yes, but--"

"I'll drop these off with Nell sometime tomorrow. If I haven't had a chance to by the time you open you'll use the extras," he finished with a faint smile. "It's all right, Lana," Lex said, smoothing a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "You're tired. Go home."

"What about your cup and your--"

"I do know how to wash dishes, Miss Lang."

"Sorry."

"You'll only be sorry if I change my mind."

Lana immediately straightened. "You are so right." She went to the back room to get her things, talking the entire time. "Here you are, offering me the chance to see my bed before midnight for a change, and here I am arguing with you. It must be the sleep deprivation. Thank you, Lex." Impulsively, Lana stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

Color immediately suffused her cheeks. Lex regarded her calmly. Shaking her head, Lana turned and headed for the door muttering, "I definitely need sleep. Lots of sleep," all the way.

Lex was true to his word: he washed and put away his stoneware and then proceeded to shut down Talon. Unlike the weary Miss Lang, Lex was still mentally and physically hyped from both the business proposal he was working on and his last cup of coffee, and so finished in the less than half the time it usually took Lana. He'd lived in Smallville for over a year and the deserted streets still amazed him. New York may have held the title of "City that Never Sleeps" but Metropolis wasn't far behind. Smallville on the other hand shut down promptly at six, seven at the latest. Places like the Talon, open until ten, were rare indeed. Lex walked to his car alone, in silence, the clicking of his heels his only company.

"Call information," Lex said as he sped down deserted Smallville streets. He listened as his cell phone made the connection.

"How may I be of service to you this evening, Mr.. Luthor?" a mild male voice asked.

"I need the cell phone number of one Isis Ross."

"Ross is a fairly common family name, sir. Do you have any other information that might narrow our search, like a location?"

Lex pulled up across the street from the dark Ross house. "The number is probably registered to a Gotham account, but Isis Ross and her cellular phone are residing in Smallville, Kansas at the moment. Is that helpful?"

"Yes, sir. One moment please."

Lex sat in his car waiting, watching the Rosses, wondering which room was Isis'.

"Mr.. Luthor?"

"What do you have for me?"

The operator rattled off a short list of names and numbers. "But the first one is the only number that fits your search parameters exactly."

"Thank you." Lex hung up, removed his cell phone from the apparatus that allowed it to work through his speaker system, and got out of his car. He dialed the first, and most probable, number from memory.

A light went on in the attic across the street.

"Isis."

"Lex? How did you get this number?"

"That doesn't matter now. There are some things I wanted to discuss with you. I was wondering if we could meet."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"It's late, Lex, for me to be borrowing my uncle's car and the Mansion's a little ways off."

"Look outside your window, Ice."

"Huh?"

"Just do it."

He'd watched her silhouette pace behind her curtains, now Lex watched as she pulled aside the curtain and scanned the street. Suddenly the light went out.

"What are you doing here?" Isis hissed.

"I told you I needed to speak with you."

Isis snorted. "So you're here in the middle of the night?" He could see her shaking her head. "It sounds more like you're looking for trouble." She was outside, carefully making sure she wasn't locked out, wrapped in a blanket.

"Me? Looking for trouble? Never."

Isis snapped her cellular phone shut as she crossed the street. "Yeah right."

Lex looked into her upturned face and said the first thing that came to mind: "You're rather short."

"I'm in slippers," she returned, chuckling in disbelief to herself. "I think you're used to seeing me in heels. I know I'm used to talking to you in them." Isis took a step backward. "There, that's better. I don't have to look as high. So is this real business you wanted to discuss or are we just shooting the frigid breeze?"

"Oh, it's real business," Lex assured her. "Let's get in the car."

Isis gratefully slid in. She started when he turned the key in the ignition. "And where exactly are we going, buddy?"

"My place."

With a quirk of her lips Isis told him that, "There was a time I wouldn't have gone another inch with you after an invitation like this."

"This isn't an invitation."

"Ah, but once upon a time it would have been."

"Once upon a time you hardly gave me the time of day." He didn't mention that the same was true of most men in their circle.

"The feeling seemed to be mutual."

Lex hazarded a glance her way. Isis was staring at the xenon-lit road, the colors of her hair nearly lost to shades of gray, a smirk and lifted brow gracing her face. "You're beautiful at night," he said before he could stop himself.

Her lips pulled into a grim line. "I'll give you the standard answer: 'Only at night. Now watch the road.'"

"Don't you think you're beautiful?" Lex asked, not used to his compliments being thrown back at him. Especially his earnest ones.

"Not at all," Isis answered easily. "Not without makeup and clothes to put me at my best advantage. Then again the moon is beautiful tonight and it's late. I'll count your outburst to sleepiness," she said with a smile.

"Aren't we frank."

"Sometimes. We're also tired. We have had a long two days and very little sleep for it. What's your business, LL?"

Lex switched easily to business mode, explaining that his father had liked the changes she'd made to his last proposal and that Lex would like her to look at his latest. "If you don't mind of course."

"Is this a favor or should I detail my fee?" Isis asked flippantly.

"It can be negotiated."

Isis' smile was lopsided. "No fee this time, Lex," she said gently. "Maybe if this becomes a regular occurrence, however . . ." She trailed off with a yawn.

"We're almost there."

"Splendid." Very soon they were ensconced in Lex's office, Isis behind the desk, in his chair glancing through various typed and electronic files. She had wondered if she'd fallen asleep during the last leg of the ride, but it had seemed like a moot point once she saw the mess Lex had been wading through. "I may change my mind," she had muttered, striding purposefully across the room, tossing her blanket on the leather couch by the door. Isis only looked up, or even consulted Lex, when she ran into some kind of password or firewall that she could not get through.

That she didn't do it more often gave Lex pause as he sipped from a tumbler of Scotch. It was some time after three when she lifted her head from it all. "What do you think, Miss Ross? Can you work your magic on this one?"

"This is a lot more complicated than the last proposal. There I just changed some of the language: made it sound more conciliatory to the other party while you still got almost everything you wanted."

"And you can't do that here?" he asked with skepticism.

"You had already done a lot of the work for me. This is . . .raw. Bleeding still."

Lex sauntered to his own desk, feeling the sensuality curl around him like auxiliary limbs searching for their equal in her. Something about Isis in a nightshirt and jeans, barefoot -- she had kicked off the slippers two and a half hours ago -- behind his desk called that part of him to come out and play. Or watch. "Are you saying that you can't be of service to me?" he purred, draping himself in a chair reserved for supplicants. "Or shall I call you to polish me off?"

Looking up at him with eyes that were dark and nearly dulled with sleep, Lex almost felt bad about his double-entendre. But then Isis' eyes burned with anger and fierce pride. "Oh I can do it." She yawned. The heat dimmed some. "But not tonight. This can't be handled instantly you know."

"Tell my father that."

"Patch me through."

"You're serious aren't you."

"As a heart-attack," she said through a yawn.

Lex watched the fire that had flared so brightly in her eyes flicker out in slow stages till barely a glowing ember was left to keep them open. "I guess that's all we can do tonight," he conceded, rising slowly. Those auxiliary limbs had latched onto something other than desire. "I'll get someone to drive you back home."

"Thank you, Lex." But he had already put down his tumbler and was out the door. Isis rose wearily from behind Lex's desk and wandered over to the couch where she had thrown her blanket, picking up her slippers on the way. She sat down to wait.

*

Early Sunday Morning, Oct. 13

For the second time in nearly as many days, Lex Luthor watched a woman he had not bedded sleeping in his house.

He had come back to his office only to find it apparently empty. A light snore drew his gaze downward, however, and there he found Isis. Knees drawn up as far as they would go, blanket slowly slipping off the edge of the leather couch, Isis was curled into a corner of the couch fast asleep. Lex was tempted to wake her, then thought better of it. A quick trip outside let Enrique know he could go back to sleep. His services would not be needed to take Miss Ross home. The driver hardly seemed to mind.

And now it was very early and Isis was very much still asleep. He'd returned to the study after dismissing Enrique with the sole intention of turning out the light. Somehow he'd forgotten to do that. Instead he found himself much as he was at that very moment: staring down at Isis. He almost couldn't reconcile the Ice Princess of his Metropolis University days to this Isis "Ice" Ross. It wasn't just the lack of glittering, cold, jewelry. She had learned something in the years since they had both left Metropolis, and they had never been good enough friends for him to know what it was.

In the end Lex had drawn the abandoned blanket over her still form -- she promptly stretched out -- turned out the lights and headed for his own bed.

It seemed as if she hadn't moved at all during the night, and maybe she ha--

"Lex. Stop staring at me so hard."

Lex was startled out of his thoughts and had to gather his mask of calm around him. Isis was looking at him with eyes that were bright and clear. "We're awake."

"Indeed. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "A little after five-thirty."

"I have to go home."

Lex reigned in the urge to say she was home. Those auxiliary limbs stretched with her as she rose slowly, languorously from the couch; every stretch catlike, every movement deliberate. "Feeling better?"

"Immensely."

"But no more talkative."

Isis smiled the slow smile he remembered glimpsing the night before in the car. "Not really. I want to get back to my uncle's before the family rises for Sunday breakfast. If that can be managed of course."

"Of course. And it shall. My driver will be ready to take you home in five minutes."

"You won't be taking me home?" she said in a tone that Lex wasn't sure whether to take as sarcastic, playful or sincere. He decided on a combination of the first and third and answered, "No."

Lex was sitting behind his desk when she turned and said, "You don't go to one of the churches Sundays, do you?"

"Me and God have never quite been on speaking terms."

"That could have something to do with your megalomania."

"And you are? On, ahem, speaking terms with God."

"Oh, I reconciled my megalomania to His long ago. You might think of doing the same someday, Lex."

Somehow he doubted it.

*

"I can not believe we are having this conversation right now."

"Don't you talk back to me."

"I'm not-- It's not my intention to be talking back to you. Really it's not. The last thing I want to do is disrespect you in your own house, but this is my third night in a row with less than two hours of sleep. If you would please excuse my rude mouth because of my exhaustion it would be greatly appreciated," Isis said as calmly as she could. She wanted to scream.

Home less than ten minutes, her uncle had rounded the corner from the livingroom and started in on her. Where had she been? Why was she coming in so late? Was that his sheet she was traipsing around Smallville in? Who had dropped her off? He would not have her gallivanting all over town like she owned it. She was not in Gotham anymore. Her grandparents couldn't get her out of this one. Isis had been too tired and surprised to protest. She had, however, muttered her disbelief.

"Tiredness is no excuse, young lady. What kind of example do you think you're setting for your cousin?"

"A good one!" Isis was outraged. "Why do you think I'm home by six a.m.?! I was up 'til three working. Working. I was not gallivanting anywhere. And--"

"Who were you working for?"

Isis stared at him balefully.

"If you were 'working' as you say, then tell me who for. Well?"

Isis breathed out sharply through her nose. "Lex. Lex Luthor."

"WHAT?!"

"I know you have your problems with Luthor Senior, but Lex is my friend." Isis didn't bother to mention that connection was casual. "It was a favor. One that will probably help me help the school," she said, raising her voice over her uncle's.

"So you're just going to help the man that ruined--"

"Lex didn't ruin you! Lionel did! Currying favor with Luthor Junior will not hurt this family. Not that it should matter to you. Lex is my friend," she said fiercely, "and what I do for my friends isn't your concern. Especially when it doesn't affect you."

"It affects me, young lady, when it affects my son."

"How does it affect Peter? Huh? Tell me that? Pete'll be asleep until nine. Twelve if we go to the late service. He never had to know that I was out last night, or even what time I came in. Look, I'm just really, really tired. I want to get another two hours sleep, wake up for some of Auntie's cooking, for your sausages, go to church, come home and sleep some more. Can I do that please? Can we just forget all about this?"

"If your going to live here, Isis, you need to abide by some rules," her uncle said more calmly.

"I understand that, but you also have to treat me like I'm going on twenty-two, not seventeen."

"If you want to do what you want, Isis, and be grown, you can't stay here."

"Uncle Mark, I didn't just come to be a pain. I really didn't. I came to see family I haven't seen in almost a decade. A decade, Uncle Mark. I love you. I really don't want to fight, or disrespect you, or anything. I just want to go to sleep," she pleaded.

Mark studied his niece for a moment: her grey skin, her dark sunken eyes, the heavy slump of her shoulders. "Okay. But this isn't over Isis Lillian-Michelle Ross."

Nodding slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness, Isis gently brushed past her uncle and went up stairs. She didn't notice the light under Pete's door.