"Screw that! No way!"
"I'm afraid so."
"No way! Look, I'll be there, get everything figured out, and then-" And then I'll apologize really sincerely to Chloe, he added, when he noticed she was looking at him with "oh, I remember, you were on the cover of Weirdos Monthly magazine" eyes.
"Please come as soon as possible."
"I'm really sorry, something else just came up, if you could drop me downtown I'll get it fixed and meet you at the coffee place in, oh, twenty minutes?" It wouldn't take more than that to get everything okay since there was no way that Lex had sided with anybody but them.
"Can't I drop you wherever you're actually going?" The caption on that cover photo was "Man of the Year."
"No, thanks, actually, I can just get out here," he scrambled out, hitting his head on the doorframe and barely remembering to rub it as though it hurt.
Just when I actually had a real live kind of semi-date. Thank you so much, Lex, I really appreciate it, he grumbled in his mind as he started running once he couldn't see Chloe and the car any more. By the time he hit full speed, though, one thought occured to him--after this, Lex couldn't gripe any more about that time in Gotham with that girl with the enormous bra busters--and he grinned.
****
Thoughts strolled through Lex's mind like a slinky model making her grand but every so casual entrance at a party. One that paused to be examined was: This is what a bed is all about. Soft linen bottom sheet and pillow case, silk upper sheets. Perfect tactile sensations without inadvertant bed-skiing.
The next thought was that the service was just as good. He was thirsty and the blue bottle on the bedside table was still sweating, as though it had been taken from the refrigerator just in time to be ready for him to wake up.
He pulled himself up, leaning against the quilted headboard, and took a long swallow. A king-sized bed, no less. He'd have to start issuing invitations.
He couldn't describe the situation as being exactly what he wanted, but under the circumstances, it wasn't bad at all.
***
"It's got to be a fake. Or maybe not a fake. A look-alike. There could be lots of them out there!" Clark folded his arms across his chest.
"We ran every test there is, Clark."
"Well, they don't work!" *Stupid Diana.*
"The combination of tests, comparison of pace length, arm movements, features mapping, would mean the chance of a mistake is one in several million."
"So? People still win the lottery sometimes." *Stupid Alfred.* "The odds against anybody winning are one in several million."
"Clark, none of us want to believe it. But the facts are right there. There was no sign that he was under coercion, he even looked like he was hesitating before going in." Clark couldn't stand that *reasonable* voice that Batman used sometimes. He grabbed the tape and crushed it. That'd show them he wasn't convinced.
"Then it wasn't Lex." He'd watched it five times. Lionel had taken up the first floor of the court building as a makeshift headquarters for the relief efforts and had given a press conference outside, in the middle of the plaza. One of the news cameras had been doing montages of the crowd and the buildings, both ruined and usable, surrounding the square. He had to admit that the figure that, keeping to the edges of the listening crowd, made its way to the court building, seemed to hesitate, then opened the door and went in, well, yes, fair enough, it looked a lot like Lex. But it wasn't. Period. "I don't know where he is right at the moment but he's not changed sides."
He didn't want to talk about it any more and looked at his watch. It had been an hour and he'd told Chloe twenty minutes. He turned for the door.
"Where are you going, Clark?"
Yeah, like Batman could boss *him* around. "Out!" He started running.
She wasn't in the coffee shop any longer, he realized, looking around. A waitress came up and asked if she could help him. "Yeah, I was supposed to meet somebody here but I was late and..."
"Who was it?"
"Her name is Chloe, she's blond-"
The waitress laughed. "No need to describe her here, she only goes home because it isn't 24-hour. Sorry, but she left about five minutes ago."
She'd waited for him. A long time. He didn't know whether he felt better that she waited or worse. "Oh."
The waitress grinned. "She's always in here. I'd bring lots of flowers or something tomorrow."
"I'm not sure I could make it." He looked around the shop once more and then left. No Chloe, no Lex. This day officially sucked.
AN:
Reviewing lets you lose 30 pounds in five minutes or alternatively, add a little heft wherever you might want it!!! I got that info in an email so it must be true.
"I'm afraid so."
"No way! Look, I'll be there, get everything figured out, and then-" And then I'll apologize really sincerely to Chloe, he added, when he noticed she was looking at him with "oh, I remember, you were on the cover of Weirdos Monthly magazine" eyes.
"Please come as soon as possible."
"I'm really sorry, something else just came up, if you could drop me downtown I'll get it fixed and meet you at the coffee place in, oh, twenty minutes?" It wouldn't take more than that to get everything okay since there was no way that Lex had sided with anybody but them.
"Can't I drop you wherever you're actually going?" The caption on that cover photo was "Man of the Year."
"No, thanks, actually, I can just get out here," he scrambled out, hitting his head on the doorframe and barely remembering to rub it as though it hurt.
Just when I actually had a real live kind of semi-date. Thank you so much, Lex, I really appreciate it, he grumbled in his mind as he started running once he couldn't see Chloe and the car any more. By the time he hit full speed, though, one thought occured to him--after this, Lex couldn't gripe any more about that time in Gotham with that girl with the enormous bra busters--and he grinned.
****
Thoughts strolled through Lex's mind like a slinky model making her grand but every so casual entrance at a party. One that paused to be examined was: This is what a bed is all about. Soft linen bottom sheet and pillow case, silk upper sheets. Perfect tactile sensations without inadvertant bed-skiing.
The next thought was that the service was just as good. He was thirsty and the blue bottle on the bedside table was still sweating, as though it had been taken from the refrigerator just in time to be ready for him to wake up.
He pulled himself up, leaning against the quilted headboard, and took a long swallow. A king-sized bed, no less. He'd have to start issuing invitations.
He couldn't describe the situation as being exactly what he wanted, but under the circumstances, it wasn't bad at all.
***
"It's got to be a fake. Or maybe not a fake. A look-alike. There could be lots of them out there!" Clark folded his arms across his chest.
"We ran every test there is, Clark."
"Well, they don't work!" *Stupid Diana.*
"The combination of tests, comparison of pace length, arm movements, features mapping, would mean the chance of a mistake is one in several million."
"So? People still win the lottery sometimes." *Stupid Alfred.* "The odds against anybody winning are one in several million."
"Clark, none of us want to believe it. But the facts are right there. There was no sign that he was under coercion, he even looked like he was hesitating before going in." Clark couldn't stand that *reasonable* voice that Batman used sometimes. He grabbed the tape and crushed it. That'd show them he wasn't convinced.
"Then it wasn't Lex." He'd watched it five times. Lionel had taken up the first floor of the court building as a makeshift headquarters for the relief efforts and had given a press conference outside, in the middle of the plaza. One of the news cameras had been doing montages of the crowd and the buildings, both ruined and usable, surrounding the square. He had to admit that the figure that, keeping to the edges of the listening crowd, made its way to the court building, seemed to hesitate, then opened the door and went in, well, yes, fair enough, it looked a lot like Lex. But it wasn't. Period. "I don't know where he is right at the moment but he's not changed sides."
He didn't want to talk about it any more and looked at his watch. It had been an hour and he'd told Chloe twenty minutes. He turned for the door.
"Where are you going, Clark?"
Yeah, like Batman could boss *him* around. "Out!" He started running.
She wasn't in the coffee shop any longer, he realized, looking around. A waitress came up and asked if she could help him. "Yeah, I was supposed to meet somebody here but I was late and..."
"Who was it?"
"Her name is Chloe, she's blond-"
The waitress laughed. "No need to describe her here, she only goes home because it isn't 24-hour. Sorry, but she left about five minutes ago."
She'd waited for him. A long time. He didn't know whether he felt better that she waited or worse. "Oh."
The waitress grinned. "She's always in here. I'd bring lots of flowers or something tomorrow."
"I'm not sure I could make it." He looked around the shop once more and then left. No Chloe, no Lex. This day officially sucked.
AN:
Reviewing lets you lose 30 pounds in five minutes or alternatively, add a little heft wherever you might want it!!! I got that info in an email so it must be true.