Chapter 19
Metropolis
Zatanna's back was against the door, her legs wrapped around Clark's waist, her fingers caressing his neck and shoulders. The only sound in the room was their groans and heavy breathing. Clark kissed her avidly, his desire for her rising by the moment. Her body molded against his, as she matched his hunger. Something completely unexpected had occurred earlier on the Watchtower. It was really the first time since they'd been dating that they were both there at the same time. Being so close, yet not wanting to let everyone in on their relationship added a new erotic danger to everything. They found themselves intensely aware of each other. Little gestures and stolen glances seemed stir them both. It was sweet torture, sitting there with their teammates, unable to touch each other, yet both their minds thinking the same things. An innocent brush against the other took on a new tantalizing meaning. Zatanna happened to look across the cafeteria and caught a fleeting but intense look from Clark that seemed to ignite a smoldering heat that spread throughout her body. The sight of her innocently checking a rip in her fishnet stockings took on a whole new erotic meaning for Clark. He had to will himself to remain cool and try and focus on what John was saying to him. Zatanna wore her top hat with a slightly sexier tilt to it and there was a little more sway to her walk, knowing his eyes were following her. Her gaze seemed to linger just a second longer than normal on the way his uniform showed off his muscular body. Clark actually felt a few beads of sweat trickle down from his temple, as he couldn't help looking at her full sensual lips when she talked. The time till the end of the shift seemed to drag on forever for the both of them. It was like counting down the minutes on the last day of school. When finally the shift was over, Clark had to steel himself not to fly to the transporter. Zatanna lingered, talking to Shayera, but out of the corner of her eye she watched him dematerialize and licked her lips as she visualized being with him in a matter of moments. Materializing over Metropolis, Clark speed to his apartment as fast as possible, smiling when he reached it finding she'd already worked her magic on the light. Zatanna played it cool, as she walked by Bruce and Diana to the transporter pad. Inwardly, she was screaming of Mr. Terrific to speed it the hell up, but outwardly she was placid. The moment she touched down in her hotel room, she magically transported herself to his door. It flew open the same instance and Clark eagerly pulled her into his arms. He'd already changed out of his uniform into a simple flannel shirt and jeans. Zatanna tossed her hat towards his couch as she enthusiastically wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. The door closed and he lifted her up against it. Their passions flared, as they couldn't seem to get close enough to the other.
"I thought the shift would never end," he whispered, kissing her hard and demanding.
"I know," she whispered back, "I kept imagining you like this and it was all I could do not to grab you."
As he held her with one arm, he fumbled to unbutton her shirt and in his haste a few popped off.
"Clark, this is my dress shirt," she lamented, but didn't stop her own exploration of his body.
"I'll buy you ten more," he hotly whispered, kissing his way along her neck.
"They're expensive."
"I'll take out a loan," he said, his lips working their way along her earlobe.
"Oh! The hell with it," She gasped, having the same trouble with his shirt. With one quick pull, she ripped it open all the way down, buttons flying everywhere. She practically purred as her fingers skimmed against his warm hard flesh, his lips devastating her. Her jacket, vest and now ruined dress shirt were the next items to haphazardly fall to the floor. Stiff was a word that applied to different parts of both their anatomies. As they simultaneously reached for the fasteners on the others pants, they gazed deeply at each other. The room seemed to be sizzling, as they scorched each other with the look of pure hunger.
"Let's go to the bedroom, Clark," she frantically whispered. "Now."
"Too far," he said, his voice full of emotion. A thrill went through her, as she immediately understood. With surprising strength she pushed off from the door, sending them to the floor. She hovered tantalizingly close over him; her lips open, as her breathing was ragged.
"This will work, too," she said, pressing her body hard against his, as she kissed her way along his jaw line.
"You're driving me crazy, Zee," Clark groaned, her body sensually grinding against his.
"Great."
London
Morgaine le Fey had arrived almost twenty minutes earlier, but so far they hadn't spoke. She watched Zod with interest, wondering what was going through that mind of his. To all outwardly appearances, he was doing nothing, just sitting and staring at a chessboard. She knew this was deceiving, and was a little surprised at her attraction to Zod. It had been centuries since she'd felt any real desire for a man, but looking at him, she had to admit to herself the idea was appealing. Underneath her mask she chuckled to herself, thinking how unexpected it was. He was practically a shell of a man, eaten away by disease, yet his mind was still so sharp. Long dormant feelings flared within her. She wanted desperately to believe his plan would work, that her long lost beauty would finally be hers again. Perhaps when they were both made whole, she thought, the possibilities might be worth exploring. That would have to wait, now was about seeing that nothing stood in their way.
"Most find that it's necessary to move the pieces to play the game," she acerbically said.
"Yes, I suppose they do," Zod acknowledged, looking up from the board to her. "I find myself intrigued by this Earth game. Each move changes the game. It takes strategy, for sure, but it also calls for imagination. Looking at this board, I can imagine the next ten moves for each initial move and so on."
"I would think it would appeal to you, it's based on conquest," she replied.
"That's one interpretation, but another is that it's life played out before us," Zod countered.
"How poetic, Zod, it appears your time on Earth has mellowed you."
"Perhaps, but then it's said only a fool doesn't take notice of the things around him. My race was an analytical people, we learn through observation. We held science in the highest regard. This tended to make others see us as a cold people, but that's far from the truth. We were just as passionate as the next, perhaps more so, we just chose not to let them rule us," he said to her. Morgaine had come over and sat down across from him, interested in his thoughts.
"You seem much more expansive with your views and thoughts today," she mentioned.
"I suppose," he conceded, "the fourth crystal is fully charged, so we are one step closer to our goal."
"And what of your young friend Nathan?"
"He's heady with his new power and considers me no threat to him," Zod calmly said. "He's busy opening his heart and pouring out on the world some of the hate that's there."
"You don't seem concerned," she asked.
"Oh, I'm very concerned, for Nathan is the wild card in whole affair. He's the illogical move that throws the whole board into chaos," Zod replied. "He's the number one threat to all I've worked towards."
"Not the heroes? You truly believe Luthor can sway the populous?" she asked in surprise.
"Honestly? No, I have my doubts," Zod admitted. "This business of archetypes with the dreamers got me to thinking and I imagine one of the oldest archetypes is the hero. People see themselves in the hero, for we are all the hero in our own story. I think that's something societies overlook. You and I would be considered criminals, villains, by most people, yet that's not how we see ourselves, is it? Young Nathan certainly doesn't see himself that way; he's a hero in his own mind."
"Then why recruit Luthor for something you doubt will work," she asked.
"I didn't say it wouldn't work, only that it won't sway the populous at large," Zod countered. "It was never intended to. A man like Luthor believes something is valuable only if he pays for it. I have an ally that wishes to remain in the shadows, but has agreed to present Luthor the idea in the right way."
"What is this idea?"
"Distraction," Zod immediately answered. "If they are distracted, even for a little while, that aids us. It gives us time to complete our work."
"And when we are done, it will no longer matter what they do,' she added, "You are a very interesting man, Zod."
"And you are a most intriguing woman, Morgaine,' Zod said in response. They looked at each other across the chessboard for a few moments and then she reached over and moved one of the pieces.
"Queen's pawn to e4, your move, Zod."
Daily Planet
Zatanna still had a smile on her face as she walked into the Daily Planet building around lunchtime. Last night had been amazing, as had this morning. She had been reluctantly to let him leave, but he had work so she gave in. He'd promised to take her to lunch and she'd agreed to meet him at his office. As she stepped into the elevator, she smiled at the young man and woman already on board. There was a nervous, shy quality to the smaller woman. It took a moment for Zatanna to place her, but the she remembered.
"Hi, I'm Zatanna, I almost met you at the café, didn't I?" She said with a smile.
"Wh-What? Oh, um, yeah, you, you were with Clark," Lisa said, her voice trembling. "I'm-I'm Lisa."
A gentle nudge reminded her introduce Milton.
"Oh, this is Milton."
"Nice to met you!" He said enthusiastically, "By the way, no hard feelings!"
"Okay," Zatanna replied, not really sure what he was talking about. "You two make a cute couple."
Milton beamed and Lisa blushed furiously, before saying, "thank you. You-You and Clark do to."
"Right, with you both being giants and all," Milton added.
"Gotcha, well, this is my floor, nice meeting you both," Zee said, stepping off and wondering if it was just her or did they seemed a little strange. She was pulled from this thought, as a woman came barreling by, nearly running into her.
"Again?" Lois said, looking up from her files in surprise at seeing Zatanna.
"Hi, I'm…" Zee started, but was cut off by a wave of Lois' hand.
"I know, but no time today," she said and moved off quickly to her office. Zee stood there for a moment and then just shook her head and walked to Clark's office. She lightly knocked and heard his voice call that it was open. As she stepped into the room, a smile came to her face as she saw him getting up from his desk.
"Hey, you," he smiled, grabbing his jacket and moving towards her. He meant to only give her a light kiss, but once their lips met, it quickly turned into something more.
"Re-Ready to go to lunch," she finally said when the kiss ended, the heat rising to her cheeks.
"Lunch, right," Clark said, his breathing a little faster than normal. A little awkwardly, he stepped back from her. "After you."
Zatanna smiled and turned and headed out the door, feeling Clark close behind. As focused on each other as they were, it went unnoticed to both that Cat Grant had been watching all of this.
"Well, isn't that interesting," she said with a wicked smile.
Meanwhile, in her office, Lois Lane could barely contain her excitement. She'd been working on the Albino story all week and it was finally paying off. The clues had been like a crossword puzzle, but after deciphering them and cross checking the archives she had come upon a startling revelation. At first she couldn't believe it, but after going through the society pages it all made sense. He'd been in or around Metropolis on all the dates associated with the Albino, but he was based in Gotham. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense to Lois. His playboy image was just a cover for something darker. She'd always had her suspicions about him, but a criminal mastermind was the last thing she'd considered. She knew him was the most amazing part, but he'd fooled her just like everyone else. As hard as it was to believe, the facts were plain, Bruce Wayne was the Albino!
Bonneville Salt Flats
The room was the size of an aircraft carrier. Nathan stood on the edge, letting his eyes scan out over the sea of dreamers that had been brought here. The room radiated power and it was through him it was channeled. A cadre of believers stood behind him, all in awe at what they saw. He'd brought them here to show them what they were just a small piece of something grand. Even believers needed reminding now and then just what they were involved in. As they looked out over the sea of dreamers their conviction grew stronger. The transformation of this world was at hand and they had a part to play in it. Nathan turned to them and gave his best impression of a benevolent smile. It was a poor imitation but for this audience it was more than enough.
"You are the chosen ones," he started, his voice rising as he spoke. "The day is rapidly approaching when our centuries old dream with come to pass! You stand at the focal point in time. I envy all of you. It is through your sacrifice that all our dreams will come true! Go know, and let the world tremble before us!"
A cheer went up and then the believers began to transport to different locations around the globe. When the last had disappeared, Nathan's true smile came forth. It was a cold, hate filled slash across his young face, but it was a glimpse into his soul.
Luthercorp
Lex had been reviewing presentations for all the major ad agencies for the better part of the morning. They were all slick, stylish and ultra modern, but they were all wrong. Each seemed to miss the point he was after. He had tried to describe it, but couldn't seem to put it into words. Ideas rattled around in his brain, but like most of the presentations they seemed like a rehash of old, failed ideas. He had almost lost hope in the whole project when a small agency, the Grace Associates started their presentation. It was different right from the beginning. A tall professional looking redheaded woman walked into the room, pushing a combo TV/DVD player. She wore glasses; her hair pulled back in a severe bun and her suit was a rather unflattering, conservative look. She took out a DVD and put it in the machine and then turned and looked at Lex for the first time. With a smile she walked over to him and handed him the remote.
"Watch and if you're interested, we'll talk afterwards," she said and then left the office. It certainly was a new approach he thought to himself. Settling back into his chair, he pressed play and waited for the presentation to begin. What came up surprised him. The first shot was of the expressionless face of Superman. The video itself was crude, but as he watched, other images were alternated with more images of Superman. They started out as the most benign things, puppies, flowers, but as they video progressed they slowly shifted to darker, more disturbing images. Lex found himself reacting to them, noticing the change in Superman's reaction on the screen. Guilt, anger, remorse seemed to cross the superhero's face. As suddenly as the video started, it ended. Lex sat back staring at the blank screen blown away by the presentation. He reached for the intercom and told his secretary to send the woman back in. The doors opened a moment later and the redheaded woman walked in and sat down across from Lex.
"An interesting presentation, Miss?" Lex began.
"Grace, you can call me Grace," she smiled, "I thought you might find it engaging."
"Tell me, how did you get those images of Superman? I've never seen most of them before," he asked. Her smile grew wider as she adjusted her glasses.
"Actually, you have, Mr. Luthor, they are all the same image," she told him.
"I don't think so," he replied.
"Have you heard the phrase that there's nothing new in the world, Mr. Luthor?"
"Yes, but I don't see how that's relevant?"
"In the 1910s and 20s, a Russian filmmaker named Lev Kuleshov demonstrated what would later be called The Kuleshov Effect. It's a process of editing or montage that can be used in film. He found that viewers bring their own emotional reactions to the sequence of images, just as you have. In this case, the same image of Superman is invested with the viewer's own feelings."
"Fascinating," Lex said derisively, feeling thrown off by the woman. "I'm sure your professor from your college film class is smiling somewhere, but I don't see how this applies to my project."
"It was used to show a point, Mr. Luthor," Grace continued. "I'm guessing that you were unhappy with my competitors presentations, correct?"
"Yes, so," Lex replied.
"Their approach to the problem was flawed from the start. Turning a large mass of people against the heroes is difficult at best, impossible in most cases," she observed."
"And what do you propose?"
"Something much more specific," she said, leaning forward. "On the surface the campaign which is like the others you saw today, but the real goal would be the heroes themselves. Behind those masks and costumes, they are people just like everyone else. They have families, friends, and lovers like the rest of us. The underlying message would target them, raising doubt among the heroes and those close to them. If the overarching themes have an effect on a portion of the population, that is just an added bonus."
"Interesting," Lex smiled, liking what he heard, "and what would be the themes of this underlying message?"
"The law of unintended consequences," Grace offered.
"How so?"
"We would use you as a prime example, Mr. Luthor," she smiled, "your criminal past is well documented. We would show that it was a response to these heroes. It would point out the virtual superhero arms race that is going on. Much like during the cold war, as new more powerful heroes emerge, so do more powerful villains. We will use the myth of nostalgia, of a better time in the past, before superheroes were around. The criminal was just an ordinary man with a gun in the most extreme cases. Ordinary policemen were able to handed the situation. Once the heroes started, the criminals had to adjust. For example, Gotham has always been known for it's corruption, but it wasn't until the Batman emerged that the city began to see the likes of the Joker. The net effect was that ordinary men and women could no longer control the situation as they had before. Case after case can be shown that this pattern repeats itself in every city superheroes appear in. Metropolis is the worst, because it has the greatest hero, Superman. Think of the villains that have attacked the city, all of which the ordinary police are totally incapable of handling."
"An interesting theory, but how does it help me," Lex pointedly asked.
"A hero sets out to do good, to make a difference, "Grace slowly said, "how would they react if it's pointed out to them that the real difference they make is to cause things to become more dangerous and violent?"
"They would start to question their whole mission," Lex added, a broad smile coming to his face.
"Exactly," Grace nodded, "The law of unintended consequences taken to its logical conclusion. That's my presentation, Mr. Luthor."
"Just let me get my checkbook and it's Lex, Grace," he said with his most winning smile.
