Chapter Four- The Old One-Two
Jimmy had finally made up his mind. One beer too many the night before and a terribly inspirational Lifetime movie (which had wormed its way onto his TV, he assured himself, entirely by accident) had given him the guts to fess up, come clean. Today, at work, he was going to tell Clark what he knew. He would be clear, concise, impersonal, and he would see how Clark reacted, decide how to proceed from there.
All this secrecy, this wishy-washiness, had gotten him starting to feel like some sort of politician, the sort he despised, and today of all days, he really wasn't in the mood. Working to solve this particular problem had been fully occupying his thoughts for several days, ever since the mudslides in China; he had long ago given up on his half-baked theory that Superman was Jason's father, so uncomfortable was he with all the potential implications. It had been easier to just explain it all away, and allow it to take up no more of his time, leaving him with the vastly more simplified equation- "Clark equals Superman".
The difficulty, he knew, would be in the approach. Should he just waltz over to Clark as he ran something through the copier, greet him with a casual, "So, Supes, how was the weather in Singapore yesterday?" Or would something a little more roundabout be more appropriate, a question regarding how he managed to fit his cape in behind that three-piece suit? But what would be the point in beating around the bush like that? Why avoid the inevitable?
"So Clark, yeah, I know you're Superman. I won't tell anybody, so don't start freaking out, or anything like that."
Jimmy took that scenario further in his mind. It seemed like a relatively satisfactory conversation starter, though he doubted very much that Clark would even be tempted to "freak out" under any circumstance.
Come to think of it, what would Clark do? It was certainly a strange situation for him to be put in. Would he just choose to ignore Jimmy, pretend that he couldn't hear a word he said? Maybe he'd be polite and stoic about it, listen intently, and then just nod and walk away in the manner that only Superman could get away with?
On the other hand, maybe he'd just kill him.
Jimmy shook his head vigorously to rid himself of that notion. Yes, while it would certainly make things easier on the Man of Steel's part, and much less complicated, it was a completely ridiculous idea. He didn't even kill psycho criminals, the people who nearly managed to do him in. Superman certainly wouldn't "take care" of someone for such an inane reason. Right?
With this startling new development, Jimmy found himself hesitating. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all, blurting, bragging, he knew Superman's secret. What right did he have, to suddenly call so much attention to himself, to demand respect under threatening circumstances? Even Jason seemed to have the presence of mind to keep his mouth shut.
Yeah, maybe he should just wait. It wasn't as though he would be doing any good by it. How on earth could he, Jimmy Olsen, possibly be of any assistance to Superman, the alien, the demi-god?
No. He had been over this already. Clark deserved to know who was privy to this particular piece of information, and whatever he tried to tell himself, whatever seemed to be more in tune with his own personal logic, he could help, even in just the most insignificant of ways. It was good, it was right, for him to tell.
But he would do it carefully. Subtlety was the best policy.
When he came into the office that morning, Clark was already at his desk, looking wary and focused and typing just a little faster than a person should be able to manage. Jimmy certainly hoped he was making a lot of typos, to ward off suspicion.
"Hey there, Clark!"
Jimmy felt somehow satisfied to see the larger man jolt a little in surprise. The little lapse, that tiny show of normalcy made this seem a great deal easier.
Clark had turned around, his eyebrows raised, his glasses dangling from the bridge of his nose as if they wanted nothing more than to leap off of his face.
"You know Clark, I was wondering if I could talk to you, for a sec." He waved his hand to indicate that Clark should follow him, and he set off in the direction of the coffee. He sort of wanted to discuss the matter in a relatively populated area of the office, to minimize the risk of any…undesirable fallout. Besides, he had already worked out what to say, and he was 100 sure that it wouldn't be at all compromising.
"Busy day yesterday, huh?" Jimmy knew very well that the previous day hadn't been any more hectic than was typical, in the Planet offices, at least, but Clark let out a harried breath and nodded distractedly.
"Did you want some coffee?" He had already taken two cups down from the shelf, and seemed in a real hurry to get back to his desk.
"In a second, Clark. I just wanted to ask you something." Clark set the cups down and removed his focus from the often-abused coffee maker.
"Sure."
Jimmy took in a deep breath. This was it.
"Clark, do you speak Chinese?"
Clark didn't even flinch. He didn't show any outward signs of relief or disbelief or anything of the sort. His eyes widened, in the simple, singularly Clarkish way, and he shook his head.
"Nope." Just like that, just like it was any ordinary question.
"Oh, okay then."
On the short pilgrimage to his desk, Jimmy pondered what exactly had just happened. Clark had gotten it, right? He must have gotten it. Jimmy had done everything properly. The reference to yesterday, how busy it had been. And then, of course, asking him if he spoke Chinese, he had spoken with just the right amount of deliberation, just the right amount of emphasis. Clark surely could have figured that out, especially if he had been listening in on Jimmy's conversation with Jason the day before, which of course, he had. He heard everything. It was a fact. Yes, of course Clark had understood him. Right? Right?
Crap.
The seventh of February was Jason's birthday, and a very big event. Being the Daily Planet's favorite five year old definitely had its advantages, and the morning hours at the office were filled with a little more furor than was normal, what with all the people dropping by the bullpen to deliver presents and congratulations, people who normally wouldn't have allowed anything to take away from the complete mayhem of their day.
In the course of the morning he accumulated so many books, games, toys and baked goods (nearly all of which, it was noticed, complied with Jason's strict dietary requirements) that Jimmy wondered how all of it would manage to make its way into the car. A number of the copy boys had gotten him airplane posters for his bedroom walls, a lady from Local had scrounged up a handful of tickets to some Disney On Ice event in the Arena district, and a few folks from International even sang him "Happy Birthday" in Swahili.
Of course, the festivities couldn't continue all day. A few barked orders from Perry (which only came, Jimmy noticed, after their editor-in-chief had presented Jason with an elaborate toy chemistry set,) and they were all back to work.
It was about lunchtime when Jimmy brought out his own gift, a short stack of piano books that he had gotten from a shop close to his apartment. He had even taken the time and expense to drop the present off at one of those snooty gift shops for wrapping and what not, as he had always been hopeless at that particular facet of domesticity.
Jason had been about to head downstairs with his mother when Jimmy approached him.
"Hey buddy, happy birthday!" He presented the wonderfully wrapped present with the right amount of gusto, and watched Jason move to receive it with an equal enthusiasm.
"Music books!" Jason gasped, before they were even in his hand.
"How did you know?" Jimmy asked, slightly disappointed, but still wearing a smile, watching the little boy appreciate his gift with an adoring stare.
Jason frowned, confused.
"You didn't wrap it," he said quietly, pointing at the parcel still in Jimmy's hands, his little frown deepening as they both began to realize the same thing, that the books were indeed wrapped (and wrapped very expensively, Jimmy added), and that it hadn't made a difference.
Jason stood, staring, completely confused. Jimmy, however, was already thinking about how he could manage to wrap next year's present in lead foil.
"Oh boy."
AN- That took a little longer than I expected, I apologize for the confusion.
Also, I am currently looking for a good beta reader, someone who has enjoyed my work so far and would be willing to help me both with this story's remaining chapters, and anything I might write after this is over. If you are interested, give me a shout out.