Chapter 6

Two weeks had passed since that morning Clark told Lana what he was planning. For a second she thought her hungover brain had imagined it but as it turned out Clark was quite serious. He wanted to be a hero although he reproached her every time she tried to use that particular word. He wasn't he kept telling her. He was just someone with the power to help he said.

Clark had spent a lot of the last 2 weeks 'tinkering' as he called it. Tinkering on what Lana did not know but when Clark put his mind to something the laid back farmer was shoved aside and Clark could be as obsessive as the next person. Tinkering where was also another point. Lana had seen very little of him these last couple of weeks. It was all...right in fitting with Clark's character. There was always this mysterious side to him he never let anyone see. Not even her when they were dating. Another reason it didn't work out and if she was going to give him advice on finding that perfect someone she guesses she would say that it would have to be someone he finally feels able to be allowed to see the side of himself he hides away.

It is after dark today before he returns from wherever and Lana arches an eyebrow in interest at his appearance. Clark usually went for the casual farmer look. Plaid mostly but tonight it seems we have a reversion to something he more commonly wore when they were teenagers. The jeans, blue-t-shirt, red jacket combo.

"I didn't even know you still had that jacket," she comments.

Clark looks at her puzzled. "But I love this jacket. You know that. Why would I get rid of it?"

"Clark you're love for that jacket borders on the unhealthy," she reproaches him.

"Lana don't diss the jacket. If it comes down to you and the jacket..."

"The jacket wins," Lana says with a roll of her eyes. She has heard this before.

Clark grins triumphant.

Lana just shakes her head. Honestly at times to her Clark still seems like this overgrown kid...and gee she really has gotten cynical she sudden realises. She needs to watch that. Back on to Clark's clothing choices Lana doesn't even bother to try and give Clark a make over. He is too set in his ways. Although she wonders if this change of attire means something. She hasn't seen much of him this last couple of weeks but when she has seen him he seemed...cheerier as if he had found a new purpose to his life and wasn't simply moping around in his grief. She inquires, "Clark have you actually thought through how you are going to do this...hero thing?"

Clark makes a face. He is not a hero.

"Well I can't think of any other description," Lana says contritely.

Clark lets it go. "I'd be lying if I figured out every little detail," he admits. "But hey I doubt even Batman knew exactly what he was doing when he started," he says in jest which is hiding the fact he is a little worried but he is also determined this is what he wants to do.

"Is that what you have been doing these last couple of weeks? Figuring out the details?"

Clark slowly rolls his head from side to the other. "Sort of. You want to see?"

"See?" Lana queries somewhat perplexed. What has he been doing that she needs to see something?

"Sure." Clark checks his watch. "Well how about we have dinner first," he suggests since it is close enough to that time. He wouldn't want to be responsible for Lana not eating properly.


Barbara looks around her new apartment still strewn with unpacked boxes full of her possessions but still oddly she feels lighter. Maybe it just the fact she is away from Gotham and Bruce's suffocating presence that explains the feeling.

She goes to her window and looks out at the unfamiliar skyline. This was her city now. Maybe she'll get changed, go out in costume and reconnoitre the immediate area and start to familiarise herself with its layout. Wouldn't be hard since she had a top floor penthouse apartment with a skylight. Easy way in and out without being seen. Deliberate of course. She had chosen this apartment herself after all.

Barbara lets out a sigh. She's been living on her own for awhile but never this far away from her father before. In fact apart from when the mission required it she had never been out of Gotham. Her father...well Bruce worked up a good excuse as to why she quit her job and was moving. She'll give Bruce that. However she knows she will miss her father now that she can't just pop round to see him whenever she feels like it.

There is a knock at the door. Now since she walked in the door literally only a few hours ago who could this possibly be. Barbara goes and opens the door and finds Helena and Dinah in her civilian dress of brunette wig and glasses. She should have guessed.

"We thought House Warming Party," Dinah explains.

"We come bearing gifts," Helena says holding up said gifts.

Barbara arches an eyebrow. "Beer and...Cheetos?" Barbara looks closer. "Is that the beer from that counterfeit ring we broke up?"

"The tests proved it wasn't harmful," Helena explains innocently. "And best of all it was free."

"She has it stacked from floor to ceiling in her apartment," Dinah tells Barbara.

"I wish I could say I was surprised," Barbara says with an accepting sigh as she invites the two women in.

Helena and Dinah look around as Dinah pulls her wig and glasses off.

"Amazing," Dinah remarks.

"What is?" Helena asks.

"Despite all this mess it is still cleaner than your apartment," Dinah jokes with a smirk.

Helena snorts derisively at that.

"Well have a seat," Barbara offers. "Assuming you can find it," she remarks since it was buried under boxes and packaging.


"I don't mean to criticise," Lana says to Clark after he brought her to this old rundown industrial estate. "In fact I've been really supportive if you'll recall."

"But?" Clark prompts her.

"But a creepy abandoned factory? I'm not seeing how this helps."

Clark could be offended but it is not in his nature to be. He takes Lana by her hand. "Come on inside and you'll see," he says as he gently drags her along.

They step inside the old factory which has long abandoned pieces of machinery littering the floor and Clark leads Lana up the staircase to the office which overlooks the factory floor. Lana looks at the rather rusted metal staircase dubiously.

"I checked it," Clark assures her. "It's perfectly safe."

"For the invulnerable man I'm sure it is."

"Will you trust me?"

Lana says nothing and lets Clark lead her into the office which she can see Clark has been busy remodelling with what looks like some rather old radios and computers all stuck together hodge-podge style to other pieces of electronics and circuit boards. Then there is the smell which tickles a thought about where Clark got all of this. "Did you get these off a rubbish tip or something?"

"Yes," he says simply.

"Ok why?"

Clark explains, "Just in case someone stumbles across it. If someone does all they'll find is some old stuff someone else threw away. Nothing that connects it to me."

That was really very clever if Lana takes a moment to think about it. "You've really put some thought into this haven't you."

"I've not concerned about myself really but if someone links it to me they'll find out about you and I won't have you put at risk," he tells her putting her welfare first.

That's Clark Kent down to a tee. Never thinks of himself first. "So what is all this for?" Lana asks.

"Right. I'll show you," Clark says as he starts a portable generator and switches everything on.

"Where'd you get the generator?"

"The farm. I nipped home and picked it up."

"Police scanner," he refers to the radio equipment.

"That's illegal Clark," Lana points out.

"I know but as you said I thought about this a great deal and I realised I needed to know what's going on with the emergency services."

"How did you manage to come up with this?"

"I went to the library and read a few books on electronics."

"A few?" Lana queries sceptically.

"Ok more than a few."

"You read every book you could find I'm betting."

"It's not as many as you think. I don't think I read more than a hundred and I found some...ahem...useful tips on the internet."

"Seriously there are places where you can find out how to listen in on the police frequencies?"

Clark nods. "Yes and well they encrypt the signal but it wasn't that complex."

"For you I'm sure it wasn't," Lana remarks knowing that Clark is very smart. A lot smarter than he lets people think he is and as a bonus he can read and learn things at what you would refer to as his superspeed. It would be how he read a hundred books in a couple of weeks. Heck he probably did that in a day or two.

Clark turns to the a couple of old computers that he had tweaked. "You get a surprisingly good wireless signal here and I programmed these to monitor news sites."

"I don't remember you being that proficient with computers," Lana comments.

"Well I..."

"Went to the library and read every book you could find," Lana finishes. "Right?"

"Yes."

"Ok so I see how you can go about doing this but what about some sort of disguise?"

"No," he says simply.

"No what?"

"No you are not getting to design any sort of costume. I'm trying not to be like the Justice League. That's the point. After all you said it yourself about them being out of touch with real people."

Ok so secretly Lana may have wanted to design him a costume. She has never tried her hand at Superhero fashions but that wasn't what she meant. "Clark a disguise as in something so no-one can recognise you," she elaborates her thinking.

"Oh right that. Well I did have an idea or two. Nothing fancy. Give me a second," he says as he moves to a metal cabinet in the corner. He opens it and puts on what he takes out of it.

Lana just looks at him a whole hell less than impressed.

"What?" he asks at her expression.

"Seriously Clark. Dark glasses and a leather jacket," she describes what he is wearing. "That is so...1980s," she says a little distastefully at that decade's fashion choices.

"I though the 80s was back in vogue," he argues.

"The good stuff. Not the bad stuff. You look like the Terminator."

"That's a classic!" he proclaims. He loves that movie.

Lana rolls her eyes before fishing something out of her bag. A hairbrush. She then walks over to him.

"What are you doing?" he asks her.

"I'm at least going to sort your hair out," she tells him because it was still in its usual curly mess.

"Alright but be warned if you aren't careful the brush will break. My hair is as tough as the rest of me."

"I'm a professional Clark. My skills aren't solely limited to design you know."

"I know."

"Can you sit down please?" Lana requests. Clark is just too tall for her to do her work properly.

Clark sits and Lana sets about grooming his hair. She manages to get it slicked back apart from this one annoying curly lock that flops over his forehead and won't be budged so she leaves it. "There. Better," she says.

"If you say so," Clark says not all that convinced what the point of this is. It isn't like anyone will get a good look at him as long as he stays moving at superspeed.

Just then his scanner picks up a police car calling for back-up as they chase some armed car-jackers. Clark gets to his feet. No time like the present to get started. "I should go help," he tells Lana. "Will you be ok here or do you want me to drop you off first?"

"It sounds urgent. I'll be alright here."

"I'll be as quick as I can," he promises.

"Clark. I know you're tough but are you bulletproof?" Lana asks with concern for him.

"I'm suppose to be invulnerable but I have never actually been shot," he admits. In fact he has never really put his supposed invulnerability to the test.

"Well try to avoid being shot then."

"I'll try," is all Clark can promise. He starts to go until remembering what Lana said about who he looks like an idea strikes him and he delivers the following in a pitch perfect impersonation, "I'll be back."

Clark vanishes with a gust of wind leaving Lana shaking her head at his goofiness wondering just when Clark is actually going to grow up.


"But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
I just don't think it'd understand
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man!"

Helena and Dinah fall over laughing as Barbara sings the lyrics to Billy Ray Cyrus' hit out of tune while dancing around in her underwear. Why is she doing this?

Well assuming she remembers this in the morning Barbara will no doubt be blaming the liberal amounts of alcohol she has drunk so far this evening. After drinking their way through the beer Helena brought they went out loaded up with as much as they could carry and have been drinking their way through it ever since. At some point they dug out Barbara's I-pod and speaker, downloaded a whole bunch of songs at random and here they are singing and dancing. Barbara will have to admit right now she is having more fun than she has had in years. She can't remember the last time she let her hair down and let herself be silly. Bruce would never stand for it.

"Oh god I think I've broken something," Dinah says as she holds her sides as Barbara's singing comes to an end.

"Like...like...you were any better...Miss Closet Brittany Spears fan," Helena says between her guffaws. Dinah had already had her turn where she sang to 'Oops. I did it again."

"I am not a fan!" Dinah protests.

"Yeah? Then how come you knew all the dance moves by heart?" Barbara asks as she falls on to the couch.

Helena laughs her head off as she remembers back on the dancing. She has given up trying to pick herself up off the floor. Her legs seem to have lost that power.

"You shut up!" Dinah snaps at Helena. "Just because I'm a little tipsy doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."

Helena snorts. "You can't even stand up," she insinuates.

"Sure I can!" Dinah insists and then tries to pick herself up off the floor. She does manages to get to her feet, stumble a few paces and then fall right on top of Barbara, her face dangerous close to Barbara's chest.

Helena just laughs more while Barbara and Dinah spend an inordinate amount of time trying to separate which is harder than it looks when you can't quite seem to control your limbs. Eventually they manage it and end up sitting side-by-side on the couch.

Dinah takes a minute to catch a breath and a coherent thought in her alcohol addled brain. "You know who broke my achy breaky heart," she says morosely.

"Jerk-face?" Helena puts forward as a suggestion.

"I believe kids today go with douchebag," Barbara says slurring her words.

"Personally I go with asshole," Dinah says. "But anyway you know who I'm talking about. The guy...what's his name?...shoots arrows."

"Arrow Man?" Helena suggests.

"Yeah. Him. Broke my heart," Dinah admits, her face glum.

Helena crawls her way over to the couch and clambers up to sit next to Dinah. She puts an arm around her friend. "You're better off without him. I don't know what you saw in him anyway."

"And this comes from the woman who dated the Question," Barbara points out.

Dinah looks at Helena cross-eyed as she loses the ability to focus her eyes. "You dated that guy! He's crazy!"

"Q's just a little unhinged," Helena says in the Question's defence. That is a defence because she can't deny he is a little bit on the mentally unstable side but he's not out and out crazy.

"You must have liked him," Barbara comments at the way Helena is defending the Question.

"I did if you really want to know."

"So what happened?"

"It just gets so tiresome after awhile having to listen to him make these ridiculous connections. 'Girl Guides work for the Illuminati or something'. 'Those little plastic things on the end of shoelaces are tracking devices for the government'. He was making me so paranoid I ended up thinking about what he said when I was trying to buy shoes. I needed to get away from it."

"Just like I needed to get away from Bat-jerk!" Barbara pronounces. "Have I ever told you two about what an ass he is?"

"You're preaching to the choir honey," Helena says. She has always thought he was a jerk and that is her using her nice language.

"Dick never called me honey," Barbara says morosely. "It was always babe because it was close to Babs."

Dinah snorts finding that funny in her drunken state.

"I miss him," Barbara says quietly.

"Well he ain't missing you!" Dinah announces. "I know for a fact he's doing..."

Helena clamps her hand over Dinah's mouth before she says it. She has enough awareness left not to want that spilt.

Barbara's eyes narrow in anger not needing to hear the rest. "What a douchebag! You know how many men I've looked at since he left? Not one."

Dinah pushes Helena's hand off her mouth. "Well cheer up maybe this person you are here to find is a really really hot guy. You can seduce him and then you can take him to Blüdhaven and shove it right in Dick's face."

"I like that idea," Barbara announces perkily. "You know Dinah you are really really smart. Smarter than Bat-jerk."

"We're all smarter than Bat-jerk!" Helena proclaims.

"You're right," Barbara agrees. "That needs a toast. Where's the beer?"

Helena and Dinah try to recall where they left the beer that is sitting on the table right in front of them. It takes a surprisingly long amount of time for Barbara to notice it. "WTF? Who hid the beer there?" she asks them referring to the beer in plain sight.

Helena and Dinah share a look before smirking identically and drunkenly shouting together, "Bat-Jerk!"

"Should have figured," Barbara mutters. It's always his fault. She passes a bottle each to Dinah and Helena before taking one for herself. "Right! A toast! To us!"

"To us!" Dinah and Helena join in raising their bottle of beers.

"To the Birds of Prey!"

"To the Birds of Prey!"

"Each of whom has more brains than Bat-jerk face!"

"And more charisma!" Helena adds.

"And more charisma!" Dinah adds.

"I just said that!" Helena cries at Dinah.

"Did you?"

"Yes!"

"Right and um more...more...um...gumption! Yeah. We've got way more gumption!"

"Gumption? You're drunk!" Helena tells Dinah.

"Pft!" Dinah waves that off. "I can drink you under the table," she claims.

"Ha!" Helena refutes that. "I can drink a dozen of you under the table!"

"You...you are asking for a repeat of the ass kicking I gave you," Dinah warns Helena.

"You never kicked my ass! I kicked your ass!" Helena retorts loudly.

"You're definitely drunk. You're memory is screwed up!"

"Oh yeah. Then lets go right here and right now," Helena challenges Dinah. She then tries to stand up only to find she can't.

Dinah snorts with laughter at this.

"Shut up!" Helena growls giving Dinah a hard shove.

"You two..." Barbara vaguely warns them waving her finger at them. She then finds her attention caught in rapture by her own finger. Wow has her finger always looked like this? What was she saying again?

Oh right. "You two need to settle down before I kick both your asses," she threatens them. "I was trained by Bat-jerk you know."

"Yeah and he sent you away on an impossible mission because he thinks so much of you," Dinah points out sarcastically.

Helena takes a long deep gulp of her beer. "What you need to do is to find this guy and assuming he is really really hot have him screw you on Bat-jerk's car. That would show him."

"I miss sex," Dinah laments now that Helena has raised the subject. She turns to Barbara. "After you're done can I screw this guy?"

"We-we have to find him first," Barbara points out.

"Yeah. Right. Right. Good point. What about you Helena? You want this guy to add another notch to your bedpost?"

The reply Dinah gets is a loud snore. Helena has passed out.

"Lightweight," Dinah proclaims triumphantly at the fact she has out-drunk Helena before she too passes out.

Barbara laughs finding the the fact her two friends have passed out funny for some reason. She very shakily gets to her feet, staggers to her new bedroom, collapses on her bed and follows her friends in passing out.


A middle-aged man with greying brown hair steps out of a car along with a younger woman with blond hair. They are detectives Dan Turpin and Maggie Sawyer of Metropolis' Special Crime Unit. They walk up to a squad car where two officers are standing.

"This had better be really good O'Rorke," Turpin grumpily address one of the men, an Irish man with red hair. It was really late and his shift was suppose to be over by now.

"Just following standard procedure Dan," O'Rorke says in his defence. "If there is an incident involving something beyond human we call you guys."

Sawyer looks at the two men in handcuffs in the back of the car. "Look perfectly human to me," she expresses her opinion.

"They do. He...I just don't know about," O'Rorke says pointing up at a rooftop.

Turpin and Sawyer look where O'Rorke is pointing at see a man standing there. He is too far away to make out details. He gives them a little salute, that they can see, he then floats up off the roof and flies off with a sonic boom ripping the air.

"Great. Another one," the grizzly Turpin complains with all these heroes popping up. In his view they don't make his life any easier.

"Nice change though getting some help," O'Rorke comments because there they were chasing the two armed men through the streets of Metropolis when a blurred figure swooped in, literally picked up the car they were chasing and then proceeded to shake it about as one would when you make cocktails. Afterwards when the...'man' put the car back down the two men crawled out on their hands and knees and promptly threw up. That is when O'Rorke and his partner moved in to arrest them while their helper flew off to that rooftop. O'Rorke continues with this added comment, "After all unless its a supervillain you don't see any of those highfalutin Justice Leaguers bothering themselves with helping us lowly grunts out do you."

Sawyer and Turpin share a look. They couldn't argue with that.


Clark returns to the factory, picks up Lana and drops her back off at her apartment before telling her he has something he wishes to do.

Clark soars upward above the clouds thinking back of what he just did. That...that was...fun. Yes it was also serious with guns and people being shot at but he hasn't felt this thrilled about using his powers...well ever. Over the years he very occasionally used them when he spotted people in trouble. Not that anyone saw him. He acted discreetly or so fast people didn't even register he was there but this was the first time he consciously chose to set out and help people and it was fun...thrilling...exhilarating.

Not as much fun and exhilarating as flying though. This, he thinks, as he soars across the countryside, this is truly fun and liberating. There is nothing more liberating than flying. He really doesn't fly enough he realises. Best feeling there is.

In the pitch dark of night he starts his descent. There is a couple of people he wants to see. He slows down and lands so gently no-one could possibly hear him. He strides forward, his feet making a crunching sound on the gravel path until he reaches his destination. Upon doing so he hovers a foot off the ground in a sitting position cross-legged and looks sadly at the object in front of him. A gravestone with the names Martha and Jonathan Kent inscribed upon it.

"Hey Ma. Pa," he greets them. "Guess what I did tonight."


The next morning Barbara wakes up and her great analytical mind gets to work trying to figure out what is wrong with her. There is a dull ache just above her eyebrows that seems to be getting more painful. She tries to open her eyes and the light hurts. Her tongue feels like sandpaper. Snippets of last night replay in her head.

Conclusion: You drank too much and are hungover.

Gee. Thanks a lot great analytical mind. That sure was helpful.

Barbara tries to move. She feels like crap and she hasn't even gotten to the throwing up part of the hangover yet. She needs water. She can feel how dehydrated she is so despite the protests of her pounding head Barbara makes herself look at and re-familiarise herself with her surroundings.

This isn't her bedroom...oh wait. New apartment. New bedroom. Yep it is all starting to come back to her.

Groaning as she gets up Barbara shuffles her way out of her room and towards the kitchen. Once there she finds a glass, she had managed to unpack those, pours some water from the tap and takes a few sips.

Her tongue still feels awful. What possessed her to drink that much? 'Never again,' she swears to herself.

The water refreshing her slightly Barbara turns her attention to the lounge area where Dinah and Helena remain asleep on the couch...together. And when Barbara says together she means somehow they are literally cuddled up, arms around each other. Helena is even drooling slightly. Are they going to be in for a shock when they wake up.

That leaves only one question for Barbara to find an answer to.

Where is the hell is her phone so she can take a picture?


Author's Note: It'll be awhile before I get Clark onto something close to the iconic costume. I want him to go through some failures first. Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews. Next up; Despite going for low key Clark's heroics start to get noticed by certain people.