Clark didn't look before leaping, in this case, before leaping the fence surrounding the school. A custodian hauling out a flat of recycleables turned just in time to see him land. Clark froze for an instant, then waved as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. After a moment's hesitation, the custodian waved back, tentatively, and Clark grinned to himself.
It wasn't hard to get into the school and once in, to find his way to the school newspaper offices. She'd said that she was really involved with journalism. Once there, he leafed through back issues, keeping an eye out for her return. He wanted to look more like the guy who'd rescued her than the guy who'd run off when they were on their way to coffee.
A photograph of the cheerleading squad distracted him and he instinctively jumped back as a backpack sailed within inches of his nose to land on one of the chairs.
"Good going, Chloe, nearly concussed the new guy." Chloe wasn't alone. And she was not alone in the sense of having another student, a male student, right next to her, and clearly on teasing terms with her.
"Oh, sorry, sorry, didn't think there'd be anybody down here in the morgue and museum."
"Morgue and museum?"
"Morgue," she repeated, pointing at the room in general, "And museum," she finished, pointing at a wall.
"You're gonna scare him off, Chloe."
"No, I think it's, I think it's, uh, very interesting." He'd crossed the room--and could smell the melony lotion or bath oil or *something* that she used--to examine the wall, which was covered with clippings describing odd events. "I just came by, uh, to see how you were." When she tilted her head and smiled up at him, he decided that he really liked being tall. It wasn't a sultry look but it wasn't motherly, either.
"I'm doing really well. Thanks to you." She looked up at him like that again, and took a step closer.
His phone rang and he wasn't able to make himself completely forget that only the League had that number. "Sorry, just a second."
"Clark?"
"Yeah, hi, Alfred." He emphasized the name, trying to make sure that there was no way that she'd think it was a girlfriend calling. Or maybe that would have been a good idea, maybe she'd have been jealous? Well, he'd already broadcasted Alfred and non-girlfriendness, so it's not like he could change his mind.
"There is another letter from your father."
He must have looked like it hit out of the blue because Chloe and the other guy both looked at him. "What's it say?"
"Do you wish me to open it?" He nearly squeaked an apology at the sudden degree of formality. He'd not quite gotten used to the fact that one or another of his father's secretaries wasn't handling all his mail, opening, sorting, and probably reporting if there were anything at all interesting. Not like there would have been.
"Yes, please."
"Your father requests that you, my goodness, this is unexpected, that you assist him to identify the hubs of organized criminal activities in Gotham."
"Is he for them or against them?" Clark meant for it to come off as ironic and detached but a little too much of his genuine uncertainty showed through, he guessed.
"He doesn't specify. He does, however, say that he requires the information tomorrow morning."
"Good thing we have it, then."
"Very fortunate. If you are not currently engaged in anything urgent, I suggest that you return as soon as possible, so you and Mr. Wayne can discuss what information will be sufficient."
He should have known. "On my way." He looked at Chloe apologetically. "I'm sorry, I've got to run. I still owe you a coffee." He tried a smile and the tiny frown that started on her face faded.
"That Kent charm is still operational," she answered, and then sat down at the computer.
****
Batman's voice was low and dangerous. "He played 'Got your nose.'"
"With you, sir?"
"Yes."
"He's doing it deliberately."
"One hardly plays 'Got your nose' by accident, sir."
"Are you laughing?"
"Only faintly."
"He's doing it deliberately, Alfred, just to annoy me."
"Considered from his point of view, sir, he's behaving with remarkable restraint."
"'Got your nose' is not restraint.'" Batman's voice was muffled and Clark guessed that he was pulling on part of his costume.
"For an inadequately socialized adolescent under a good deal of tension, it is, rather. I'll get the files to Master Clark."
"Thank you." It definitely sounded like he was wearing the Bat Boy down.
It wasn't hard to get into the school and once in, to find his way to the school newspaper offices. She'd said that she was really involved with journalism. Once there, he leafed through back issues, keeping an eye out for her return. He wanted to look more like the guy who'd rescued her than the guy who'd run off when they were on their way to coffee.
A photograph of the cheerleading squad distracted him and he instinctively jumped back as a backpack sailed within inches of his nose to land on one of the chairs.
"Good going, Chloe, nearly concussed the new guy." Chloe wasn't alone. And she was not alone in the sense of having another student, a male student, right next to her, and clearly on teasing terms with her.
"Oh, sorry, sorry, didn't think there'd be anybody down here in the morgue and museum."
"Morgue and museum?"
"Morgue," she repeated, pointing at the room in general, "And museum," she finished, pointing at a wall.
"You're gonna scare him off, Chloe."
"No, I think it's, I think it's, uh, very interesting." He'd crossed the room--and could smell the melony lotion or bath oil or *something* that she used--to examine the wall, which was covered with clippings describing odd events. "I just came by, uh, to see how you were." When she tilted her head and smiled up at him, he decided that he really liked being tall. It wasn't a sultry look but it wasn't motherly, either.
"I'm doing really well. Thanks to you." She looked up at him like that again, and took a step closer.
His phone rang and he wasn't able to make himself completely forget that only the League had that number. "Sorry, just a second."
"Clark?"
"Yeah, hi, Alfred." He emphasized the name, trying to make sure that there was no way that she'd think it was a girlfriend calling. Or maybe that would have been a good idea, maybe she'd have been jealous? Well, he'd already broadcasted Alfred and non-girlfriendness, so it's not like he could change his mind.
"There is another letter from your father."
He must have looked like it hit out of the blue because Chloe and the other guy both looked at him. "What's it say?"
"Do you wish me to open it?" He nearly squeaked an apology at the sudden degree of formality. He'd not quite gotten used to the fact that one or another of his father's secretaries wasn't handling all his mail, opening, sorting, and probably reporting if there were anything at all interesting. Not like there would have been.
"Yes, please."
"Your father requests that you, my goodness, this is unexpected, that you assist him to identify the hubs of organized criminal activities in Gotham."
"Is he for them or against them?" Clark meant for it to come off as ironic and detached but a little too much of his genuine uncertainty showed through, he guessed.
"He doesn't specify. He does, however, say that he requires the information tomorrow morning."
"Good thing we have it, then."
"Very fortunate. If you are not currently engaged in anything urgent, I suggest that you return as soon as possible, so you and Mr. Wayne can discuss what information will be sufficient."
He should have known. "On my way." He looked at Chloe apologetically. "I'm sorry, I've got to run. I still owe you a coffee." He tried a smile and the tiny frown that started on her face faded.
"That Kent charm is still operational," she answered, and then sat down at the computer.
****
Batman's voice was low and dangerous. "He played 'Got your nose.'"
"With you, sir?"
"Yes."
"He's doing it deliberately."
"One hardly plays 'Got your nose' by accident, sir."
"Are you laughing?"
"Only faintly."
"He's doing it deliberately, Alfred, just to annoy me."
"Considered from his point of view, sir, he's behaving with remarkable restraint."
"'Got your nose' is not restraint.'" Batman's voice was muffled and Clark guessed that he was pulling on part of his costume.
"For an inadequately socialized adolescent under a good deal of tension, it is, rather. I'll get the files to Master Clark."
"Thank you." It definitely sounded like he was wearing the Bat Boy down.