Rhone sat on the couch waiting in the same position. What the hell was he doing? It was like he got some sort of epiphany or something and had to go tell the media.
In a few moments, Lex walked briskly back into the room. He had something in his hand. He took his previous position – his close previous position, Rhone noted. She looked in his lap and saw her comic books there. She furrowed her eyebrows at him.
He sat for a moment. "This morning I made a call to my father's printing company. I scanned these and e-mailed them," he gestured toward the comic books. "I was just going to get a couple of nice copies for myself. As it turns out, one of the guys that happened to be making the copies has a friend at Keldora Comics, the people that make Warrior Angel. He forwarded the files and Keldora loved them," Lex said as he looked at her with a smirk, waiting for a reply.
She sat there, looking at him blankly. Lex took it for shock; he realized that being on the good side of someone with his means took a little getting used to. He added, "And with a word of recommendation from me – I think you already have a corner office."
Rhone was shocked. She didn't know what to say or do. She didn't know how to tell him that she could never… Being some sort of public figure could get her killed. Any sort of fame was not an option. She had to be able to disappear…
"Are you…" she started, "insane?"
That was not what he was hoping for. Maybe a hug or a kiss on the cheek or the lips…
She started shaking her head with a worried look, "You have to call them back, tell them you made a mistake."
"What?" Lex asked, a look of severe confusion covering his face.
She stood up and faced him as he sat on the couch. "This is not an option," she said very seriously.
"A few minutes ago, you were telling me it was your life's dream," Lex was a little taken aback by her reaction. He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her.
"That was a different life," Rhone said flatly. Shit, she shouldn't have said that – at least not that way.
He stood up and stood in front of her. "Is it because she isn't with you? That you would be living the dream you shared without her?" he asked.
What? Rhone thought to herself. She had never thought that. Marie would have wanted her to do this, even if she couldn't be there to share it. Maybe she should just let him believe that. "I can assure you, Mr. Luthor, that it has nothing to do with Marie," she said softly as she looked into his eyes.
"Then what is it?" he had never seen her react to anything very strongly before. She wasn't yelling at him, quite the contrary, neither of them had raised their voice. He also picked up that she finally put a name to her best friend.
"Can't you just forget it, let it go?" she said with a pained look.
"Clark tells me that that isn't something I do very well," he said, he wanted to touch her.
"Can you do it just this once? I really do appreciate what you tried to do. I'm even flattered that you wanted your own copies enough to take the initiative to get them printed, but it's just – impossible," she finished.
She just told me, Lex Luthor, that something is impossible. I thought she knew me. "Why?" he asked, his voice a little firmer to get a real answer.
She hesitated, "It's classified." It was the truth. Well, some of it. Why did Griff have to point out that she could tell him about what she was – at least a good part of it? Then why don't you just tell him? He wouldn't look at me the same way, that's why.
He gave her a look that landed somewhere between "what the hell" and moderately annoyed.
"I work for the government. That's what they do, classify things," she said.
"And I am just expected to accept that as an explanation?" he asked, face returning to normalcy.
She briefly looked at the floor and then at two empty hands at her sides. She looked at him again, "That's all that I have to give you, Mr. Luthor."
She was waiting for a reply. He exhaled loudly. Still, neither of them raised their voice, but he felt the need to apologize. "Listen, I'm sorry, but I don't understand…" he started to say.
Just tell him, she thought. I can't, she thought instantly. "Don't be sorry, I would be the same way if our roles were reversed," she said softly. She smiled at him; she wanted to take his hand into hers and tell him her whole life. But it's not like it was a realistic thing to do.
She wanted to forget that the last part of their conversation had taken place. She had spit out a few conditioned responses that she thought Lex picked up on. "You have all of these books," she turned from him and walked toward the shelves, "do you write?"
"That isn't exactly my forte," he replied from behind her.
"So what do you do when you need to be creative?" she turned to look at him again, "Besides finding innovative ways to hide controversial research equipment?"
Lex was at a loss for words. Not over the fact that she was teasing him about the particle accelerator, but that he didn't do anything -- imaginative.
She noticed his pause, "You never just draw, or paint, or write because you want to?"
Lex put his hands in his pockets. She was looking at him like he was some sort of science experiment, studying him. "I would think that you have much to offer," she said. Lex gave a slight smile at her subtle compliment. He filed it away with "urbane."
"I'll meet you in the room adjacent to your office," she said as she walked past him.
"Where are you going?" he asked, but she was already out the door.