sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2012-08-10 08:53 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2012-08-10 08:53 pm
Entry tags:
Victory Bonds 5/6
Title: Victory Bonds
Rating: PG (for profanity)
Summary: The year is 1947, and Daily Planet front-pagers Clark Kent and "Louis" Lane are about to get the story of their careers, courtesy of the fledgling Justice League: the enigmatic Superman, the spy-turned-vigilante codenamed Bat, intelligence agent and newly minted Green Lantern Alan Scott, and Ambassador Diana, Princess of Themyscira.
Warnings: See Chapter One.
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
When I got to the newsroom, Lois was already there. I wondered if she'd even gone to bed the night before.
"Hey!" she called, when she saw me. "You see the morning edition?"
"Yes," I answered, coming to lean on her desk. "Congratulations. Getting any hate mail yet?"
"Post hasn't been delivered. But I meant, did you see I gave you co-byline?"
"Sure. Thanks for that. Why'd you bother? You know I wouldn't have cared. You filed the story."
"Yeah, you did disappear on me last night. But you did a lot of legwork, don't sell yourself short. Besides, you said you'd back me. Sharing a byline is a good way to start. We make a good team," she added, and gave me a look.
"About that," I said. She raised an eyebrow. "Let's...let's talk."
"Roof?"
"Yeah," I replied, relieved.
From the roof of the Planet building, Metropolis was spread out before us in the morning light, the river gleaming on one side, the coast glittering in the distance. I could almost see the cratered wreckage of the hangar. Lois leaned against the guardrail. "Wow me, Smallville."
"Could you maybe come away from the edge?" I asked. She rolled her eyes but stepped away, crossing her arms.
"Happy?"
"Thrilled," I sighed. "Lois, look, I -- "
I hadn't even decided, I didn't know what I was going to say, just that I had to say, because the previous night had been too public, too close to the bone, for me to just let it pass.
"I've been lying to you," I blurted. "Not about -- us, about...who I am. It's been this big...lie. I want you to know the truth."
She smiled. "Took you long enough."
"I -- what?" I asked.
"Come on, Smallville. I mean, at first I thought everyone must know and they were just being discreet, but people seem to genuinely not get it." She came forward slowly. "I finally decided either whatever whammy you use on people wasn't working on me, or you didn't want it to, or maybe I'm just that good. I prefer to believe the latter, but well...I'm me."
"Are we talking about the same thing?" I asked warily.
"Oh, I think so." She reached up and took off my glasses. Her smile was sunny, warm. "Hello, Superman."
"Why -- why didn't you say anything?" I asked.
"Why didn't you?" she replied pointedly, then went on before I could speak. "No, I understand. The same reason I was Louis Lane for years. I wanted to respect your privacy. And thank you for wanting to tell me. I was hoping you would. I tolerate your quirks -- "
"Quirks!" I said, indignant.
" -- but I wouldn't tolerate being cut out of this, not if we were going to be something more than partners."
"You knew," I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it. "How long?"
"A long time. First time I saw a picture of Superman, I knew; I'd already known you for what, a few months? I wondered -- all that power, and you chose to be so good, you chose to be a reporter and be a hero on the side. I knew I wouldn't be able to settle for anyone less." She offered the glasses to me, then kissed me while my hands were occupied. "I was worried about you last night."
"I'm fine."
"And Batman?"
"Resting. He'll recover."
"Good. I'm glad you had some backup. So that's the Justice League, huh?"
"I think it'll work," I said. "I think it's good."
"Good, because I called them that in the story this morning."
"I saw. And you're fine with the Superman...situation?"
"Wouldn't have kissed you if I wasn't. I can't say I'm nuts about what it'll probably mean, but..." she shrugged. "A reporter's life isn't exactly stable. So -- yes, right? Yes to me, to this?"
I nodded, leaning in to kiss her again. "Yes," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Very much yes."
We didn't stay up there long; we couldn't, and even though we hurried back down, all hell was already breaking loose in the newsroom. The other papers had finally seen the Lois Lane byline and were raising a fuss. We knew pretty much everyone in the news business, and they mostly knew Lois was a woman, but they all wanted an official comment. Was it a typo? Was she retiring, or just losing Louis? Was she going to be moving to society columns and fashion reports? Was it Miss Lane or Mrs. Lane or was Lane really her last name?
When they couldn't get her (she left her phone off the hook) they started calling me, until I had to leave my line open as well. Perry had her write an editorial for the following day, and I could see the readership numbers rising in his mind. Lois Lane's story was going to sell us out. A friend of a friend who worked in book publishing was interested in an autobiography. The battle at the hangar might be the news of today, but tomorrow's was going to be all Lois.
"Are you okay?" I asked as we left for the day, taking a side-exit to avoid the folks camped out at the front. Nice of them, I thought, to politely leave us an exit. Metropolis had courteous reporters.
"Sure," she said, leaning into me. "You think we'll be mobbed if we go out to dinner?"
"I'll brave it if you will."
"Jimmy did a portrait of me to run in the paper tomorrow. Might be the last chance we get for an uninterrupted meal for weeks."
"Deco Club? My treat?" I offered.
"Sure. You owe me," she said.
"How do you figure that?"
"Superman."
"Ixnay, Lane," I replied. "Besides, you knew all along, so I figure you owe me too. I'm just being a gentleman."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Smallville."
When we got to the club, the maitre'd smiled at us. "Mr. Lane. Such a pleasure, as always."
"Miss is fine, Rudy," she answered, squeezing my hand.
"Indeed. I didn't wish to ask. Please, come with me. No reservation required."
"Thanks," she said, as he bowed low. "Can you get us a table somewhere private?"
"Of course! Right this way."
***
I came home that evening, after a very...extended kiss at my front door, to find Ari and Bruce gone, as expected. There was a set of keys sitting on my dining room table, with a note in Bruce's handwriting telling me where the car was parked. I reminded myself to find out how much it had cost.
The next morning, I arrived at the Planet to find Lois already there, staring angrily at the early police report in the paper. I leaned over her shoulder, giving her a sidelong smile, and she tensed further.
"What?" I asked.
"The police found Luthor. He was on a yacht off Manhattan when they pulled him in. Someone on the overnight desk managed to get it before we went to press," she said, holding it out to me. I stared down at it for a while before the meaning sunk in. "It came in after we left, it must have."
Lex Luthor, arrested in connection with the hangar fire and war criminal arrest in west Metropolis on Tuesday night, has been questioned and released by the police. While Mr. Luthor declined to comment, the District Attorney's office has issued a statement saying that Mr. Luthor could not have been in the vicinity of the fire, as multiple witnesses have come forward to testify that they were with Luthor on his yacht at the time of the incident.
"He's paying someone. Possibly everyone," Lois said. "No way they did all this digging between last night and this morning. I'm going to go snoop around the DA's office."
"I need to -- " I looked up, trying to see who was in the office.
"Go. I'll tell Perry you're sick," she said.
"Are you sure? Today's going to be worse than yesterday for you -- "
"I can handle it. Do what you need to do. Don't do anything stupid," she added, as I made for the phone on my desk.
Alan answered on the second ring. "Kent. Did you see -- "
"I saw. You hear from Bruce?"
"Not yet."
"We need to meet. Wayne Manor," I said. "Soon as you can. I'll let him know we're coming."
"Safer to have it here, maybe?"
"Bruce can't leave Ari, and he definitely can't bring him along."
"Damn. Of course not. Diana's already on the warpath; she's furious they're taking Luthor's word over hers. I'll find her."
"Thanks. I'll see you soon."
I tried Wayne Manor next, and got endless ringing. No good.
I felt like a heel, abandoning the Planet and leaving Lois to the tender mercy of the reading public, but she'd said she could handle it. By the time she was telling Perry I was out sick, I was already circling Gotham, coming in to land near the front door of Wayne Manor, in a clutch of convenient shrubbery that could conceal me as I changed. I didn't know how much his butler knew, but I did know anyone who saw Superman walking into the place was bound to tell stories.
I was raising my hand to knock when the door was flung open and I was faced with a tall, imposing, elderly man carrying a shotgun.
"No comment," he said, in a dry, upper-class English accent.
"Uh -- sir, I'm -- "
"I know who you are, Mr. Kent. Mr. Wayne has no comment. On anything."
"Alfred! Jesus, Alfred, it's okay," a voice called from the hallway, and Bruce arrived, pushing deftly past the butler with the gun. "For the love of God, put the gun away. Kent's all right."
"I tried to call," I said, as Bruce hustled me through the door and into a palatial entryway. I heard the gun being set down.
"My apologies, Mr. Kent," Alfred said, still utterly calm. "Will you be having any other unexpected guests, Master Bruce?"
He glanced at me. I nodded. "Alan Scott, and Ambassador Diana."
"Very good, sir. I shall leave the gun unless it's warranted. Tea, Mr. Kent? Coffee?"
"You stick by the door," Bruce said. "I can fix Kent a cup of coffee."
We ended up in a large drawing-room, full of antiques and knick-knacks and books. There was a portrait of a young boy on one wall, sitting in a large chair, his hand resting on an old-fashioned leather doctor's bag.
"That's me," Bruce said, noticing my gaze. "I was about five. My mother...liked portraits."
"Unusual prop," I remarked.
"They wanted me to be a doctor. Life intervened," he said. "I assume you're here for the same reason Alfred's keeping a gun by the door."
"He's very imposing."
"He's protective. Took to Ari like they'd known each other all their lives. He likes kids."
"Where's Ari now?"
"Asleep. Alfred stuffed him with more food and scrubbed him down yesterday, put him to bed, woke him up this morning and repeated the whole process. I think we've just about deloused the poor kid." His face grew grim. "He'd been in Luthor's claws for at least three weeks, the cage for about ten days. The guards threw him scraps when they checked on him, but he hadn't had a real, decent meal since Luthor snatched him."
"Luthor definitely knows him, then?"
He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what to do, Clark. I expected Luthor to go to prison -- hell, I expected they wouldn't even take him alive. I can't send Ari away, not again, not knowing what happened the last time. I won't keep him locked up indoors and hidden, he's done enough hiding. But I'm...me. I can't keep him here. Sooner or later there'll be a mention of him or a photograph, Bruce Wayne's little refugee, and he'll lead Luthor straight to me."
"We'll figure something out," I said. "When Alan and Diana get here, we'll figure out a way."
"I'm not used to depending on other people."
"Yeah, I noticed," I said. He glanced at me. "You've been twisting yourself up over this since yesterday morning, huh?"
"More or less," he said ruefully. "I'm a pretty bright guy, but I can't think of any way this ends up well for the boy. All my millions and I can't do a damn thing. As always."
"You do plenty."
"This is personal."
"You're damn right it is," said Diana's voice, as she and Alan burst into the room.
"Princess Diana of Themyscira and Mr. Alan Scott," Alfred said from behind them, a hint of long-suffering patience in his voice. "To see you, Master Bruce."
"Thanks, Alfred. Lock up, nobody else is expected," Bruce called.
"Very good, sir," Alfred said. Diana was already pacing around the room, face stormy.
"I have had it with those -- those men," she said viciously. "Taking the word of Luthor and some paid cronies over the word of a princess. Do you know what they told me? I went to Metropolis this morning. They said I was a foreigner. I'm the daughter of a goddess!"
"It didn't help when you threatened to hang him by his testicles from the nearest tree," Alan said mildly.
"I could have," Diana retorted. "Tell them."
"She could have," Alan nodded. "Diplomatic immunity and all. I advised against it."
"Wouldn't see me complaining," Bruce said, and then sank into a chair when Alan gave him a look. "Fine. It would have been wrong. Satisfying, but wrong."
"Lois is looking into the DA's office," I said. "If someone got paid there, she'll find it. Metropolis police aren't perfect. There are bad apples, but not many."
"Does she know?" Alan asked. "About...you?"
I nodded. "She knew already, turns out. Not the point. We know Luthor's in deep, now."
"What was he expecting to do with a giant Nazi robot?" Diana asked. "Stomp all over Metropolis?"
"I'm guessing it was a prototype," Bruce said. "Ten of those, deployed strategically, and he could control the whole country. He told the Nazis he'd give them their Reich back. Kuhr said as much."
"It's something, anyway," Alan said. "I'm getting intelligence out of Europe that the ratline's shut down for good. Word's traveling fast about what happened to Kuhr. Nobody's going to touch a shipment going through Gotham or Metropolis."
"They'll just go somewhere else," Bruce muttered.
"Maybe so, but when that happens, we'll go after them again. Our main concern right now is protecting you and Ari from Luthor," Alan said.
"I...I think I might have a solution for that," I said. It had struck me when Alan asked if Lois knew who I was -- it'd been bothering me, really, since she said she'd never seen a difference between me and Superman. "Possibly."
I took the medal off and held it up for them to see. "It's been protecting me for years. I'm willing to bet it can do the same for someone else. No harm in trying, anyway."
"But you need it," Diana said.
"I can wear a mask if I have to, but I don't know that I will. Alan's information says Kryptonians were low-level telepaths. I should be able to work without it." I concentrated on flipping the little switch over from Clark to Superman. They all blinked.
"That's really eerie," Diana said.
"So it works?" I asked.
"Please stop now," Alan replied. I focused again, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's still hiding," Bruce said.
"Only to his enemies. Ordinary people will see him for what he really is. Only the bad guys won't," I replied. "Wait a few weeks, introduce him to the world as an orphan that philanthropist Bruce Wayne is adopting -- "
"He looks enough like you," Diana said. "People will think he's your illegitimate son."
"Muddy the waters further," I said.
"This is all great in theory," Bruce replied. "You think the trinket will actually work?"
"Can't hurt to try. If it doesn't, we'll figure something else out." I paused. "My parents have a farm. Nobody'd notice him there. They're used to protecting illegal aliens," I added with a small smile.
"A farm. In Kansas," Bruce said flatly. "You think there are a lot of Jews in Smallville?"
"Well...no," I said. "But it's a nice place to grow up. I should know. I think there's a kosher butcher in Great Bend..."
"Okay, let's try this...thing," Bruce sighed. "I'll have Alfred -- "
He stopped, because the doors were opening again. Ari came through, dressed in pyjamas that looked like they had probably belonged to Bruce as a child, wrapped in a robe that clearly belonged to Bruce now, the tails of it dragging on the floor behind him. He made a sleepy beeline for Bruce, hardly noticing the rest of us.
//I was just coming to get you,// Bruce said, as Ari came to stand next to the arm of his chair. //You remember Herr Kent and Herr Scott and Fraulein Diana, don't you?//
//Yes,// Ari replied. His hair had been cut short and washed, and the dark circles under his eyes were fading. He still looked gaunt, but I was sure Alfred was working on that. //Good morning,// he said to us, then turned back to Bruce. //Should I go get dressed?//
//In a minute. We need to try something first,// Bruce replied. He picked up the chain and draped it around Ari's thin neck.
"How do we know if it works?" Diana asked. "He hasn't got any enemies here."
I glanced at Alan. He lifted his hand, thumb rubbing the ring.
//Hold still,// Bruce said. Ari obediently stood up straight, arms down at his sides, the picture of a soldier at attention. Green light suffused the room.
There was a strange...flicker around the boy, like a film that wasn't quite running at full speed. I could see Ari -- black-haired, gaunt little Ari -- but every so often, under the green light, he would shift. His face filled out, delicate nose lengthening slightly, hair lightening to brown and eyes darkening to hazel. A small birthmark appeared on his cheek.
"Well," I said, as Alan let his hand fall. "That seems to work."
"Will it be enough?" Bruce asked.
"Couldn't you see it?"
"No. He looked like Ari to me," he said, and I thought about Lois, about how she'd never seen anything but me. "I could see you react, though. It does work, doesn't it?"
"I can hear you, you know," Ari said.
There was a long silence.
"I'm starting to regret giving that up," I said finally.
"Too late. Give a kid a present, they raise hell if you try to take it back," Bruce replied, pulling Ari's head down, pressing their foreheads together. "You understand me, Ari?"
"Of course," Ari said.
"Clever, brave little robin," Bruce murmured. "This doesn't get you out of those English lessons we talked about."
"I get to stay?"
"Yes, you get to stay," Bruce said. He leaned back and looked up at me. "I owe you."
"Well, you did give me a car," I replied. Bruce smiled. Diana raised an eyebrow. "Look, I've got people investigating the Luthor thing in Metropolis, and I'll be on it too by tomorrow. Diana can work the other end of the issue through diplomatic channels. Alan can track international response to the ratline closing. You make sure the Gotham end is sealed up, and get Ari settled. We all have our own patrols to make. In the meantime, I need to get home. Lois is having a h -- a heck of a day," I corrected hastily, glancing at Ari. "Is there any other business we need to discuss?"
Diana and Alan shook their heads. Bruce looked thoughtful.
"Not for now," he said. "I'll check in when I have more."
When we left, Ari watched from an upper window of the manor until all three of us were out of sight.
***
Things quieted down after that, though not always in a good way. We couldn't find anything definite to pin to Luthor, but we did our best. More than a few of the men he'd imported died under mysterious circumstances, but Lois and I covered it as thoroughly as we could, enough that Luthor's name was starting to tarnish a little. Dirty pool, perhaps, but not cheating. He was guilty, after all.
A few of the scientists -- the ones who didn't die or go to a war crimes tribunal -- disappeared quietly. Alan told me Operation Paperclip got them. I hoped getting a man on the moon was going to be worth it. I kept tabs on Kuhr, the only one who hadn't been moved (in a prison van or a body bag) out of Metropolis, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. They had him locked down in a secure hospital wing, trying to get him to do more than giggle loudly or rant about the Batman.
Life went on. The scandal over Louis Lane died quickly enough, even if the other papers all made nasty remarks about women's work. Lois shook it off. We went dancing, went out to dinner, went to a charity fundraiser together with the paper footing the bill so we could battle it out over who got the best interview. Perry got mad when I missed an assignment (to be fair, I was rescuing some hostages in a bank robbery gone wrong while I was supposed to be reporting on a bank-robbery-turned-hostage-situation) and made me cover a society wedding.
A few days after the society wedding disaster, with Lois still teasing me about taking up women's work myself, I foolishly mentioned that I could cook, too, and she offered her kitchen to make me prove it. It wasn't a lie; I learned about the land from Pa, but I learned to look after myself from Ma.
"All right," Lois allowed, curled up on her couch, both of us full from Ma's famous chicken casserole (it won awards at the church cook-offs). "You're a catch, Smallville, you've proven yourself."
"I like to be a thoroughly modern man," I answered, amused. "I'll spare you the Spam in aspic she made while rationing was on."
"Much obliged," she replied, setting her coffee aside. "Getting late."
"I should get home," I said, but before I could move she'd leaned over and kissed me, deep and tempting.
"Or you could stay," she suggested quietly.
"It's not far -- "
"Clark," she said. "You could stay."
I looked at her, the little smile on her lips, her short hair curling around her face.
"I don't..." I started, and then shook my head a little. "You're important, Lois. I don't want to treat you like you aren't."
"I know what I'm asking," she said. "I don't want you to go."
"Your reputation -- "
"Is shot all to hell anyway. I'm not a blushing schoolgirl from Kansas. And I'm not asking some boy off the street to show me a good time. So stuff your misplaced chivalry for a minute and tell me. Would you like to stay?"
I kissed her again. "I don't always get to do as I please."
"All the more reason you should now. If the war taught me anything, it's that you have to take what you want as soon as you can get it, because tomorrow might not come. I think you learned it too. And you're in a war of your own, Clark, don't think I don't know that. I want everything, now, here, tonight. Don't you?"
"Lois -- "
"Don't you?"
"Yes," I admitted, muffling it in the pale skin of her throat. "I do."
"Then stay," she said, and tugged on my hand, leading me towards the bedroom.
***
I woke up the next morning to Lois smiling at me across the rose-patterned sheets on her bed. The room was gold-lit through the yellow curtains on the window, sun only just rising, and I'd never seen anything so breathtaking. We watched each other for a minute before she shifted, curling closer to me, and I pulled her up warmly against my side.
"Morning," she said. "Sleep well?"
"Dunno. Someone kept me up," I answered, and she laughed. "I should get up, though. Go home and get a fresh suit."
"It's Sunday," she complained. "Are you honestly getting up to go to church?"
"No, I'm a godless cosmopolitan now," I said, but I felt a little guilty saying it.
"You were going to, weren't you," she replied.
"I can skip it. But I thought I'd go to the office this afternoon, square away some old work. For that, I need a suit."
"I have suits."
"Somehow, I don't think they'll fit," I answered, kissing her shoulder.
"I'd be mortified if they did. Stay," she insisted, tugging on my shoulder. "You can be home and back in ten minutes."
"Five, if I don't dawdle."
"So stay." She pressed a hand against my chest, just under my throat. It pinned me more effectively than anything else possibly could. She traced her fingers there, curious. "Didn't you used to wear a saint's medal?"
"I'm a Methodist. We don't have saints. We have potlucks."
"I'm sure you used to wear something. I remember wondering what it was."
"Just an old thing I had from when I was a kid. Friend of mine needed it more than I did."
"Hm." She lifted her head, looking at the clock over my shoulder. "We really should get up."
"You make the coffee. I'll get changed and bring breakfast back," I said.
"This is how you farm boys do it, isn't it? Feed her till she's yours forever?"
"Either that or grow her a truckload of soy beans."
"All right. Up," she said, sitting up. "Go milk the cows or something."
It didn't take long to wash and change, given what I was flying back to when I was done. Took slightly longer to get some breakfast, but I got a couple of papers in the process, and when I came back into Lois's apartment (I use more windows than anyone I know, except maybe Bruce) she was still in the shower. I set out the food, poured two mugs of coffee, and settled in at the kitchen counter, opening the Gotham paper. Bruce hadn't been in the papers once since Ari arrived. I wasn't sure if he was slipping, or just building up a new reformed personality.
Then I got to the society page, and I was torn between delight and annoyance.
There was a photograph of Bruce, standing outside a synagogue in Gotham, Ari at his side, both in expensive-looking suits and dark yarmulkes. Ari looked like he'd gained weight, and he was beaming up at Bruce. The unfortunate headline read BRUCIE IN A BEANIE.
I reached for Lois's phone and put in a collect call.
"Wayne residence," Alfred answered.
"Alfred, it's Clark Kent -- we met a few weeks ago -- sorry to reverse charges, but I'm not at my desk."
"Master Bruce has been expecting your call. One moment."
There was a click, then a pause; a second click, and Bruce's voice came on the line.
"Clark?"
"You have some top notch reporters in Gotham," I said. "Brucie in a Beanie, really?"
"That's the least of my worries this morning. Turn the page."
I looked down at the paper, then obediently turned it over. Crime report on one side, editorials and the crossword puzzle on the other.
"Second column, left-hand page," Bruce said.
DARING DAYLIGHT ESCAPE DURING PRISONER TRANSFER
Disfigured German war criminal Josef Kuhr disappears from van transporting him to Washington, DC for trial during Gotham stopover; Gotham police vow to nab the Nazi.
"Bruce," I said, "you can't seem to win for losing."
"At least he won't be hard to catch," Bruce said. "I mean, he can't exactly go out in public with a face like his and not get noticed."
"Plus he's crazier than a sack of snakes."
"That too, and what a charming colloquialism. Smallville in origin?"
"You can take the boy off the farm..." I smiled. "Are you okay? You need the League?"
"No, I'll handle it. Diana already called, I told her it was fine. Gotham's good at hiding evil, but not that good. I'm going to enjoy this," he said with grim satisfaction. "I'm going to hunt him down and walk him into the courthouse myself, if I have to, and if they let me I'll put the damn rope around his neck."
"I wouldn't blame you."
"Good," he said. "I do need to talk to you at some point, though. I thought I'd take Ari down to Metropolis this week. I'll call when we arrive."
"Sounds good -- I have to go," I said, as I heard the water shut off in Lois's shower. "Tell Ari I say hi."
"He'll be pleased. Ciao," he added, in his dumbest, flightiest Bruce Wayne voice, and I laughed as I hung up the phone.
***
Bruce called me the following Thursday evening, giving me the number of his suite at the Metropolis Grand. Lois caught the end of the conversation -- "Be there in half an hour" -- and raised an eyebrow.
"Secret assignation?" she asked, leaning on my desk. Below, where nobody could see, I rested a hand on her knee.
"Nobody who could compare," I replied. "It's uniform business."
"Ah. You know, sometimes I miss the days when you'd stammer and get flustered because you couldn't tell me where you were going," she said with a grin.
"I don't."
"Well, I'll just have to take my other boyfriend out on the town," she said.
"Other boyfriend?"
"Bruce Wayne's in Metropolis. He asked me to drinks later tonight."
"Busy Brucie," I said.
"I would have made some excuse, but I want the story on that kid he's supposedly adopted."
"That's perilously close to the society column," I teased.
"Don't remind me. So, this uniform business. Anything Lois Lane, Intrepid Girl Reporter, should be in on?"
"I'll let you know. Try not to be Wayne's latest scandal."
"Do my best. See you tomorrow," she said, and kissed my cheek. Jimmy wolf-whistled.
"Nuts," I told him, and casually wiped lipstick off my cheek as I put on my hat.
***
Apparently Bruce had brought the whole establishment to Metropolis with him; when I got to the suite, Alfred let me in and took my coat and hat, then showed me into a large reception room where Bruce was sitting near a window, reading.
"Clark, good to see you. Have a seat," he said, setting the book aside. "Metropolis is as...sunny as ever."
"We enjoy it," I answered. "Where's Ari?"
"On the roof, shooting pigeons with a slingshot."
"Is that wise?" I asked. "Letting him roam around alone?"
"That's the point of the medal, isn't it? I try to give him as much freedom as I can. Besides, it's pretty difficult to get onto the roof of the Metropolis Grand."
"How is he?"
"Better than he was. He's strong, resilient. But Ari's not why I wanted to talk to you," he added, lacing his hands over his stomach, studying me. "The robot Luthor built."
"What about it?"
"I have a theory about its power source. A machine that big would take far more power than most conventional means could supply. Just building it would suck electricity from the Metropolis grid. I think he was using unconventional means."
"The rock," I said. "The green rock that went right through me when it blew."
"It didn't sit well with me. I've seen you shake off a missile, but a little debris put you out?" he shook his head. "I looked into it."
"I'm not enjoying the sound of this," I said.
"I didn't imagine you would, but you need to know. Wayne International supervised the cleanup of the hangar disaster. I think I've collected nearly all of the rock, but given Luthor's ability to plan, I suspect he has other caches," Bruce said, picking up a small box that was sitting on a decorative table nearby. "It's not an element known on Earth."
He opened the box, and immediately the air grew heavy the way it had in the hangar; my ears roared, and it was hard to breathe. He snapped it shut again almost instantly.
"What is that?" I gasped.
"You told me that you didn't have these powers when you were a child," Bruce said. "It wasn't until you spent an extended period of time away from Smallville that you developed them. I sent a survey team to Kansas and they called in last week; the same ore is found in many of the farm fields outside Smallville, including trace amounts at the Kent farm. Don't worry; they were discreet," he added, as I glared at him. "The meteor shower the night you fell to Earth, your celestial escort -- that was pieces of your home planet. I'd have to do more tests, which I don't think you'd like. But I have a theory that this," he shook the box, "inhibits your abilities. The box is lined in lead. The one metal you can't see through."
"Are you telling me Lex Luthor went to Smallville and...what, mined the farms?"
"Ten years after Kansas got its meteor shower, there was a meteor strike in Siberia. Norilsk, north of Tunguska. Tunguska got one in 1908. I think all three are related. I think there were multiple small strikes for about thirty years. Those were just the three major ones."
I felt sick. "Strikes. Debris from my planet."
"Yes. Primarily in Siberia and the American midwest -- big land masses with scattered populations. Fortunate, in its own way; if the meteor that hit Tunguska had hit Gotham...no more Gotham."
"Sorry if I'm failing to see the silver lining," I said.
"There isn't one, not really. The OSS knew that Luthor spent some time in Siberia during the war. I think he found this ore -- this Kryptonite, if you want to call it that -- and realized it could be used as a power source."
"Why wouldn't he just sell it?"
"It's highly unstable. The stuff we found at the hangar had to have been refined very carefully. And I think he wanted to keep it for himself. Who controls energy, controls the world," he said. "Wayne International has some pretty heavy energy investments, so I know what I'm talking about."
I considered what this might mean. Peppered across two continents were chunks of ore that could incapacitate Superman. Not heartening.
"Everything Wayne International recovered has been safely buried," Bruce continued. "I kept this sample out to show you what it can do."
"You think Luthor has more?"
"I do. There's no real solution to it, other than to make sure you're well-prepared if you go against him again. Take this, if you want it," he added, pushing the box across to me. "Have someone you trust run tests on it."
"I trust you."
He looked at me, startled, but before he could answer, the door burst open and Ari came through it at top speed. He stopped when he saw me, then smiled and opened his mouth to speak.
"Ah," Bruce said, and Ari took off the medal I'd given him, slipping it into his pocket. "English, please."
"Good afternoon Mr. Kent," Ari said, haltingly. "Pleasure to see you again."
"I don't want him depending on the necklace for his English," Bruce said. "All right, back on for now."
Ari put the medal back on and approached shyly. "You have a lovely city, Superman."
"He's nuts about Superman," Bruce said, sounding bored. "He wants a red cape. Do you know how useless red capes are?"
"What do you want a red cape for?" I asked.
"Fighting!" Ari said.
"Are you taking him out with you?" I asked Bruce, shocked.
"Not yet," Ari replied, sounding disappointed.
"We're discussing it," Bruce answered. I looked back at Ari again. He did look miles happier -- more like a boy, less like a wounded animal -- but there was a darkness in his eyes that I recognized. You could see the same darkness in Bruce's. A hard shadow born of suffering that would never fully heal.
"Why do you want to fight?" I asked Ari. He glanced at Bruce, who nodded.
"Bruce says we can't be afraid," he said slowly. "And we have to have hope. Fighting gives us hope. Fighting makes him happier. I want to be happier," he added, and cocked his head at me. "Why do you fight?"
"I had a calling," I said.
"How old were you?"
"Twenty-two."
"Am I too young to have a calling?"
"He's good," I said to Bruce. "No," I replied, turning back to Ari. "I don't suppose you are."
"Run along and wash before dinner," Bruce said. "Mr. Kent and I have grownup things to discuss."
"Aw!"
"Go," Bruce said, shooing him. Ari went, dragging his feet. When the door closed, he said, "Please don't -- "
"Are you seriously going to take a child into combat?" I asked.
"Do you honestly think I could stop him? He's been in real combat in the war, and he's even more stubborn than I am. He's too young now for street fighting, but he wants to train with me -- what am I supposed to do? At least if I'm teaching him I know when he does inevitably go out there, he'll be strong. Unafraid. And he'll be with me."
I cast a skeptical look at the door. "He's still eleven."
"And I told him I won't take him out until he's fourteen. Maybe by then he'll..." he shook his head. "Maybe he'll have healed the way I couldn't. Three years is an eternity for a child."
"You can't fight the calling, I guess," I said.
"No." He tapped his fingers on the lead box. "No, you can't. Anyway, take this. Wayne International has a mandate out to all our survey and construction teams to report in if they've found Kryptonite. I can't get past the Soviets -- and yes, to answer your question belatedly, the KGB very much wants my head if I ever go near Asia again -- but I'll do what I can for the rest."
"Thank you."
"Told you. I owe you."
"Told you, you gave me a car."
"How's it running, by the way?" he asked, smiling.
"Like a dream, thanks." I stood, carefully tucking the box in my pocket. "Let me know if you get a bead on Kuhr. I'll give Batman the best press of his life in return for an exclusive."
"I'll hold you to that," he replied, walking me to the door. "Look after yourself, Clark."
"You too, Bruce."
When I got home, I pried open my old mess kit, laying the lead box carefully on top of the paperwork Alan had given me. I sealed it up again, set it on the highest shelf in the kitchen, and shoved a truly ugly gravy boat Ma had sent me in front of it.
I was just brushing my teeth when there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, Lois looked at me -- toothbrush in my mouth, plaid pajamas on -- and grinned.
"Am I interrupting anything?"
"No," I said, hastily taking the toothbrush out of my mouth. "Nothing at all. How was the Wayne meetup?"
"Productive. Got some good quotes, I'll file it tomorrow. He seems to be settling down a little. I thought I'd see if you wanted late company."
"Always," I replied. It's hard to be suave with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Make yourself at home, I'm going to..." I pointed to the toothbrush.
When I came out of the bathroom, she was wearing one of my pajama shirts, sitting on the bed. I crawled over to her, kissed her, and rested my forehead against hers.
"Uniform business go off okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, it went fine," I replied. "Nothing newsworthy."
"You sound happy about it."
"I'm happy you're here," I said. "I'm -- I like my life an awful lot. I'm lucky and I'm grateful for it tonight."
"Good," she answered, fingers toying with the top button of my shirt. "Now, how about we make a little scandal?"
I laughed and followed her down into the blankets.
***
Epilogue
Rating: PG (for profanity)
Summary: The year is 1947, and Daily Planet front-pagers Clark Kent and "Louis" Lane are about to get the story of their careers, courtesy of the fledgling Justice League: the enigmatic Superman, the spy-turned-vigilante codenamed Bat, intelligence agent and newly minted Green Lantern Alan Scott, and Ambassador Diana, Princess of Themyscira.
Warnings: See Chapter One.
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
When I got to the newsroom, Lois was already there. I wondered if she'd even gone to bed the night before.
"Hey!" she called, when she saw me. "You see the morning edition?"
"Yes," I answered, coming to lean on her desk. "Congratulations. Getting any hate mail yet?"
"Post hasn't been delivered. But I meant, did you see I gave you co-byline?"
"Sure. Thanks for that. Why'd you bother? You know I wouldn't have cared. You filed the story."
"Yeah, you did disappear on me last night. But you did a lot of legwork, don't sell yourself short. Besides, you said you'd back me. Sharing a byline is a good way to start. We make a good team," she added, and gave me a look.
"About that," I said. She raised an eyebrow. "Let's...let's talk."
"Roof?"
"Yeah," I replied, relieved.
From the roof of the Planet building, Metropolis was spread out before us in the morning light, the river gleaming on one side, the coast glittering in the distance. I could almost see the cratered wreckage of the hangar. Lois leaned against the guardrail. "Wow me, Smallville."
"Could you maybe come away from the edge?" I asked. She rolled her eyes but stepped away, crossing her arms.
"Happy?"
"Thrilled," I sighed. "Lois, look, I -- "
I hadn't even decided, I didn't know what I was going to say, just that I had to say, because the previous night had been too public, too close to the bone, for me to just let it pass.
"I've been lying to you," I blurted. "Not about -- us, about...who I am. It's been this big...lie. I want you to know the truth."
She smiled. "Took you long enough."
"I -- what?" I asked.
"Come on, Smallville. I mean, at first I thought everyone must know and they were just being discreet, but people seem to genuinely not get it." She came forward slowly. "I finally decided either whatever whammy you use on people wasn't working on me, or you didn't want it to, or maybe I'm just that good. I prefer to believe the latter, but well...I'm me."
"Are we talking about the same thing?" I asked warily.
"Oh, I think so." She reached up and took off my glasses. Her smile was sunny, warm. "Hello, Superman."
"Why -- why didn't you say anything?" I asked.
"Why didn't you?" she replied pointedly, then went on before I could speak. "No, I understand. The same reason I was Louis Lane for years. I wanted to respect your privacy. And thank you for wanting to tell me. I was hoping you would. I tolerate your quirks -- "
"Quirks!" I said, indignant.
" -- but I wouldn't tolerate being cut out of this, not if we were going to be something more than partners."
"You knew," I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it. "How long?"
"A long time. First time I saw a picture of Superman, I knew; I'd already known you for what, a few months? I wondered -- all that power, and you chose to be so good, you chose to be a reporter and be a hero on the side. I knew I wouldn't be able to settle for anyone less." She offered the glasses to me, then kissed me while my hands were occupied. "I was worried about you last night."
"I'm fine."
"And Batman?"
"Resting. He'll recover."
"Good. I'm glad you had some backup. So that's the Justice League, huh?"
"I think it'll work," I said. "I think it's good."
"Good, because I called them that in the story this morning."
"I saw. And you're fine with the Superman...situation?"
"Wouldn't have kissed you if I wasn't. I can't say I'm nuts about what it'll probably mean, but..." she shrugged. "A reporter's life isn't exactly stable. So -- yes, right? Yes to me, to this?"
I nodded, leaning in to kiss her again. "Yes," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Very much yes."
We didn't stay up there long; we couldn't, and even though we hurried back down, all hell was already breaking loose in the newsroom. The other papers had finally seen the Lois Lane byline and were raising a fuss. We knew pretty much everyone in the news business, and they mostly knew Lois was a woman, but they all wanted an official comment. Was it a typo? Was she retiring, or just losing Louis? Was she going to be moving to society columns and fashion reports? Was it Miss Lane or Mrs. Lane or was Lane really her last name?
When they couldn't get her (she left her phone off the hook) they started calling me, until I had to leave my line open as well. Perry had her write an editorial for the following day, and I could see the readership numbers rising in his mind. Lois Lane's story was going to sell us out. A friend of a friend who worked in book publishing was interested in an autobiography. The battle at the hangar might be the news of today, but tomorrow's was going to be all Lois.
"Are you okay?" I asked as we left for the day, taking a side-exit to avoid the folks camped out at the front. Nice of them, I thought, to politely leave us an exit. Metropolis had courteous reporters.
"Sure," she said, leaning into me. "You think we'll be mobbed if we go out to dinner?"
"I'll brave it if you will."
"Jimmy did a portrait of me to run in the paper tomorrow. Might be the last chance we get for an uninterrupted meal for weeks."
"Deco Club? My treat?" I offered.
"Sure. You owe me," she said.
"How do you figure that?"
"Superman."
"Ixnay, Lane," I replied. "Besides, you knew all along, so I figure you owe me too. I'm just being a gentleman."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Smallville."
When we got to the club, the maitre'd smiled at us. "Mr. Lane. Such a pleasure, as always."
"Miss is fine, Rudy," she answered, squeezing my hand.
"Indeed. I didn't wish to ask. Please, come with me. No reservation required."
"Thanks," she said, as he bowed low. "Can you get us a table somewhere private?"
"Of course! Right this way."
***
I came home that evening, after a very...extended kiss at my front door, to find Ari and Bruce gone, as expected. There was a set of keys sitting on my dining room table, with a note in Bruce's handwriting telling me where the car was parked. I reminded myself to find out how much it had cost.
The next morning, I arrived at the Planet to find Lois already there, staring angrily at the early police report in the paper. I leaned over her shoulder, giving her a sidelong smile, and she tensed further.
"What?" I asked.
"The police found Luthor. He was on a yacht off Manhattan when they pulled him in. Someone on the overnight desk managed to get it before we went to press," she said, holding it out to me. I stared down at it for a while before the meaning sunk in. "It came in after we left, it must have."
Lex Luthor, arrested in connection with the hangar fire and war criminal arrest in west Metropolis on Tuesday night, has been questioned and released by the police. While Mr. Luthor declined to comment, the District Attorney's office has issued a statement saying that Mr. Luthor could not have been in the vicinity of the fire, as multiple witnesses have come forward to testify that they were with Luthor on his yacht at the time of the incident.
"He's paying someone. Possibly everyone," Lois said. "No way they did all this digging between last night and this morning. I'm going to go snoop around the DA's office."
"I need to -- " I looked up, trying to see who was in the office.
"Go. I'll tell Perry you're sick," she said.
"Are you sure? Today's going to be worse than yesterday for you -- "
"I can handle it. Do what you need to do. Don't do anything stupid," she added, as I made for the phone on my desk.
Alan answered on the second ring. "Kent. Did you see -- "
"I saw. You hear from Bruce?"
"Not yet."
"We need to meet. Wayne Manor," I said. "Soon as you can. I'll let him know we're coming."
"Safer to have it here, maybe?"
"Bruce can't leave Ari, and he definitely can't bring him along."
"Damn. Of course not. Diana's already on the warpath; she's furious they're taking Luthor's word over hers. I'll find her."
"Thanks. I'll see you soon."
I tried Wayne Manor next, and got endless ringing. No good.
I felt like a heel, abandoning the Planet and leaving Lois to the tender mercy of the reading public, but she'd said she could handle it. By the time she was telling Perry I was out sick, I was already circling Gotham, coming in to land near the front door of Wayne Manor, in a clutch of convenient shrubbery that could conceal me as I changed. I didn't know how much his butler knew, but I did know anyone who saw Superman walking into the place was bound to tell stories.
I was raising my hand to knock when the door was flung open and I was faced with a tall, imposing, elderly man carrying a shotgun.
"No comment," he said, in a dry, upper-class English accent.
"Uh -- sir, I'm -- "
"I know who you are, Mr. Kent. Mr. Wayne has no comment. On anything."
"Alfred! Jesus, Alfred, it's okay," a voice called from the hallway, and Bruce arrived, pushing deftly past the butler with the gun. "For the love of God, put the gun away. Kent's all right."
"I tried to call," I said, as Bruce hustled me through the door and into a palatial entryway. I heard the gun being set down.
"My apologies, Mr. Kent," Alfred said, still utterly calm. "Will you be having any other unexpected guests, Master Bruce?"
He glanced at me. I nodded. "Alan Scott, and Ambassador Diana."
"Very good, sir. I shall leave the gun unless it's warranted. Tea, Mr. Kent? Coffee?"
"You stick by the door," Bruce said. "I can fix Kent a cup of coffee."
We ended up in a large drawing-room, full of antiques and knick-knacks and books. There was a portrait of a young boy on one wall, sitting in a large chair, his hand resting on an old-fashioned leather doctor's bag.
"That's me," Bruce said, noticing my gaze. "I was about five. My mother...liked portraits."
"Unusual prop," I remarked.
"They wanted me to be a doctor. Life intervened," he said. "I assume you're here for the same reason Alfred's keeping a gun by the door."
"He's very imposing."
"He's protective. Took to Ari like they'd known each other all their lives. He likes kids."
"Where's Ari now?"
"Asleep. Alfred stuffed him with more food and scrubbed him down yesterday, put him to bed, woke him up this morning and repeated the whole process. I think we've just about deloused the poor kid." His face grew grim. "He'd been in Luthor's claws for at least three weeks, the cage for about ten days. The guards threw him scraps when they checked on him, but he hadn't had a real, decent meal since Luthor snatched him."
"Luthor definitely knows him, then?"
He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what to do, Clark. I expected Luthor to go to prison -- hell, I expected they wouldn't even take him alive. I can't send Ari away, not again, not knowing what happened the last time. I won't keep him locked up indoors and hidden, he's done enough hiding. But I'm...me. I can't keep him here. Sooner or later there'll be a mention of him or a photograph, Bruce Wayne's little refugee, and he'll lead Luthor straight to me."
"We'll figure something out," I said. "When Alan and Diana get here, we'll figure out a way."
"I'm not used to depending on other people."
"Yeah, I noticed," I said. He glanced at me. "You've been twisting yourself up over this since yesterday morning, huh?"
"More or less," he said ruefully. "I'm a pretty bright guy, but I can't think of any way this ends up well for the boy. All my millions and I can't do a damn thing. As always."
"You do plenty."
"This is personal."
"You're damn right it is," said Diana's voice, as she and Alan burst into the room.
"Princess Diana of Themyscira and Mr. Alan Scott," Alfred said from behind them, a hint of long-suffering patience in his voice. "To see you, Master Bruce."
"Thanks, Alfred. Lock up, nobody else is expected," Bruce called.
"Very good, sir," Alfred said. Diana was already pacing around the room, face stormy.
"I have had it with those -- those men," she said viciously. "Taking the word of Luthor and some paid cronies over the word of a princess. Do you know what they told me? I went to Metropolis this morning. They said I was a foreigner. I'm the daughter of a goddess!"
"It didn't help when you threatened to hang him by his testicles from the nearest tree," Alan said mildly.
"I could have," Diana retorted. "Tell them."
"She could have," Alan nodded. "Diplomatic immunity and all. I advised against it."
"Wouldn't see me complaining," Bruce said, and then sank into a chair when Alan gave him a look. "Fine. It would have been wrong. Satisfying, but wrong."
"Lois is looking into the DA's office," I said. "If someone got paid there, she'll find it. Metropolis police aren't perfect. There are bad apples, but not many."
"Does she know?" Alan asked. "About...you?"
I nodded. "She knew already, turns out. Not the point. We know Luthor's in deep, now."
"What was he expecting to do with a giant Nazi robot?" Diana asked. "Stomp all over Metropolis?"
"I'm guessing it was a prototype," Bruce said. "Ten of those, deployed strategically, and he could control the whole country. He told the Nazis he'd give them their Reich back. Kuhr said as much."
"It's something, anyway," Alan said. "I'm getting intelligence out of Europe that the ratline's shut down for good. Word's traveling fast about what happened to Kuhr. Nobody's going to touch a shipment going through Gotham or Metropolis."
"They'll just go somewhere else," Bruce muttered.
"Maybe so, but when that happens, we'll go after them again. Our main concern right now is protecting you and Ari from Luthor," Alan said.
"I...I think I might have a solution for that," I said. It had struck me when Alan asked if Lois knew who I was -- it'd been bothering me, really, since she said she'd never seen a difference between me and Superman. "Possibly."
I took the medal off and held it up for them to see. "It's been protecting me for years. I'm willing to bet it can do the same for someone else. No harm in trying, anyway."
"But you need it," Diana said.
"I can wear a mask if I have to, but I don't know that I will. Alan's information says Kryptonians were low-level telepaths. I should be able to work without it." I concentrated on flipping the little switch over from Clark to Superman. They all blinked.
"That's really eerie," Diana said.
"So it works?" I asked.
"Please stop now," Alan replied. I focused again, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's still hiding," Bruce said.
"Only to his enemies. Ordinary people will see him for what he really is. Only the bad guys won't," I replied. "Wait a few weeks, introduce him to the world as an orphan that philanthropist Bruce Wayne is adopting -- "
"He looks enough like you," Diana said. "People will think he's your illegitimate son."
"Muddy the waters further," I said.
"This is all great in theory," Bruce replied. "You think the trinket will actually work?"
"Can't hurt to try. If it doesn't, we'll figure something else out." I paused. "My parents have a farm. Nobody'd notice him there. They're used to protecting illegal aliens," I added with a small smile.
"A farm. In Kansas," Bruce said flatly. "You think there are a lot of Jews in Smallville?"
"Well...no," I said. "But it's a nice place to grow up. I should know. I think there's a kosher butcher in Great Bend..."
"Okay, let's try this...thing," Bruce sighed. "I'll have Alfred -- "
He stopped, because the doors were opening again. Ari came through, dressed in pyjamas that looked like they had probably belonged to Bruce as a child, wrapped in a robe that clearly belonged to Bruce now, the tails of it dragging on the floor behind him. He made a sleepy beeline for Bruce, hardly noticing the rest of us.
//I was just coming to get you,// Bruce said, as Ari came to stand next to the arm of his chair. //You remember Herr Kent and Herr Scott and Fraulein Diana, don't you?//
//Yes,// Ari replied. His hair had been cut short and washed, and the dark circles under his eyes were fading. He still looked gaunt, but I was sure Alfred was working on that. //Good morning,// he said to us, then turned back to Bruce. //Should I go get dressed?//
//In a minute. We need to try something first,// Bruce replied. He picked up the chain and draped it around Ari's thin neck.
"How do we know if it works?" Diana asked. "He hasn't got any enemies here."
I glanced at Alan. He lifted his hand, thumb rubbing the ring.
//Hold still,// Bruce said. Ari obediently stood up straight, arms down at his sides, the picture of a soldier at attention. Green light suffused the room.
There was a strange...flicker around the boy, like a film that wasn't quite running at full speed. I could see Ari -- black-haired, gaunt little Ari -- but every so often, under the green light, he would shift. His face filled out, delicate nose lengthening slightly, hair lightening to brown and eyes darkening to hazel. A small birthmark appeared on his cheek.
"Well," I said, as Alan let his hand fall. "That seems to work."
"Will it be enough?" Bruce asked.
"Couldn't you see it?"
"No. He looked like Ari to me," he said, and I thought about Lois, about how she'd never seen anything but me. "I could see you react, though. It does work, doesn't it?"
"I can hear you, you know," Ari said.
There was a long silence.
"I'm starting to regret giving that up," I said finally.
"Too late. Give a kid a present, they raise hell if you try to take it back," Bruce replied, pulling Ari's head down, pressing their foreheads together. "You understand me, Ari?"
"Of course," Ari said.
"Clever, brave little robin," Bruce murmured. "This doesn't get you out of those English lessons we talked about."
"I get to stay?"
"Yes, you get to stay," Bruce said. He leaned back and looked up at me. "I owe you."
"Well, you did give me a car," I replied. Bruce smiled. Diana raised an eyebrow. "Look, I've got people investigating the Luthor thing in Metropolis, and I'll be on it too by tomorrow. Diana can work the other end of the issue through diplomatic channels. Alan can track international response to the ratline closing. You make sure the Gotham end is sealed up, and get Ari settled. We all have our own patrols to make. In the meantime, I need to get home. Lois is having a h -- a heck of a day," I corrected hastily, glancing at Ari. "Is there any other business we need to discuss?"
Diana and Alan shook their heads. Bruce looked thoughtful.
"Not for now," he said. "I'll check in when I have more."
When we left, Ari watched from an upper window of the manor until all three of us were out of sight.
***
Things quieted down after that, though not always in a good way. We couldn't find anything definite to pin to Luthor, but we did our best. More than a few of the men he'd imported died under mysterious circumstances, but Lois and I covered it as thoroughly as we could, enough that Luthor's name was starting to tarnish a little. Dirty pool, perhaps, but not cheating. He was guilty, after all.
A few of the scientists -- the ones who didn't die or go to a war crimes tribunal -- disappeared quietly. Alan told me Operation Paperclip got them. I hoped getting a man on the moon was going to be worth it. I kept tabs on Kuhr, the only one who hadn't been moved (in a prison van or a body bag) out of Metropolis, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. They had him locked down in a secure hospital wing, trying to get him to do more than giggle loudly or rant about the Batman.
Life went on. The scandal over Louis Lane died quickly enough, even if the other papers all made nasty remarks about women's work. Lois shook it off. We went dancing, went out to dinner, went to a charity fundraiser together with the paper footing the bill so we could battle it out over who got the best interview. Perry got mad when I missed an assignment (to be fair, I was rescuing some hostages in a bank robbery gone wrong while I was supposed to be reporting on a bank-robbery-turned-hostage-situation) and made me cover a society wedding.
A few days after the society wedding disaster, with Lois still teasing me about taking up women's work myself, I foolishly mentioned that I could cook, too, and she offered her kitchen to make me prove it. It wasn't a lie; I learned about the land from Pa, but I learned to look after myself from Ma.
"All right," Lois allowed, curled up on her couch, both of us full from Ma's famous chicken casserole (it won awards at the church cook-offs). "You're a catch, Smallville, you've proven yourself."
"I like to be a thoroughly modern man," I answered, amused. "I'll spare you the Spam in aspic she made while rationing was on."
"Much obliged," she replied, setting her coffee aside. "Getting late."
"I should get home," I said, but before I could move she'd leaned over and kissed me, deep and tempting.
"Or you could stay," she suggested quietly.
"It's not far -- "
"Clark," she said. "You could stay."
I looked at her, the little smile on her lips, her short hair curling around her face.
"I don't..." I started, and then shook my head a little. "You're important, Lois. I don't want to treat you like you aren't."
"I know what I'm asking," she said. "I don't want you to go."
"Your reputation -- "
"Is shot all to hell anyway. I'm not a blushing schoolgirl from Kansas. And I'm not asking some boy off the street to show me a good time. So stuff your misplaced chivalry for a minute and tell me. Would you like to stay?"
I kissed her again. "I don't always get to do as I please."
"All the more reason you should now. If the war taught me anything, it's that you have to take what you want as soon as you can get it, because tomorrow might not come. I think you learned it too. And you're in a war of your own, Clark, don't think I don't know that. I want everything, now, here, tonight. Don't you?"
"Lois -- "
"Don't you?"
"Yes," I admitted, muffling it in the pale skin of her throat. "I do."
"Then stay," she said, and tugged on my hand, leading me towards the bedroom.
***
I woke up the next morning to Lois smiling at me across the rose-patterned sheets on her bed. The room was gold-lit through the yellow curtains on the window, sun only just rising, and I'd never seen anything so breathtaking. We watched each other for a minute before she shifted, curling closer to me, and I pulled her up warmly against my side.
"Morning," she said. "Sleep well?"
"Dunno. Someone kept me up," I answered, and she laughed. "I should get up, though. Go home and get a fresh suit."
"It's Sunday," she complained. "Are you honestly getting up to go to church?"
"No, I'm a godless cosmopolitan now," I said, but I felt a little guilty saying it.
"You were going to, weren't you," she replied.
"I can skip it. But I thought I'd go to the office this afternoon, square away some old work. For that, I need a suit."
"I have suits."
"Somehow, I don't think they'll fit," I answered, kissing her shoulder.
"I'd be mortified if they did. Stay," she insisted, tugging on my shoulder. "You can be home and back in ten minutes."
"Five, if I don't dawdle."
"So stay." She pressed a hand against my chest, just under my throat. It pinned me more effectively than anything else possibly could. She traced her fingers there, curious. "Didn't you used to wear a saint's medal?"
"I'm a Methodist. We don't have saints. We have potlucks."
"I'm sure you used to wear something. I remember wondering what it was."
"Just an old thing I had from when I was a kid. Friend of mine needed it more than I did."
"Hm." She lifted her head, looking at the clock over my shoulder. "We really should get up."
"You make the coffee. I'll get changed and bring breakfast back," I said.
"This is how you farm boys do it, isn't it? Feed her till she's yours forever?"
"Either that or grow her a truckload of soy beans."
"All right. Up," she said, sitting up. "Go milk the cows or something."
It didn't take long to wash and change, given what I was flying back to when I was done. Took slightly longer to get some breakfast, but I got a couple of papers in the process, and when I came back into Lois's apartment (I use more windows than anyone I know, except maybe Bruce) she was still in the shower. I set out the food, poured two mugs of coffee, and settled in at the kitchen counter, opening the Gotham paper. Bruce hadn't been in the papers once since Ari arrived. I wasn't sure if he was slipping, or just building up a new reformed personality.
Then I got to the society page, and I was torn between delight and annoyance.
There was a photograph of Bruce, standing outside a synagogue in Gotham, Ari at his side, both in expensive-looking suits and dark yarmulkes. Ari looked like he'd gained weight, and he was beaming up at Bruce. The unfortunate headline read BRUCIE IN A BEANIE.
I reached for Lois's phone and put in a collect call.
"Wayne residence," Alfred answered.
"Alfred, it's Clark Kent -- we met a few weeks ago -- sorry to reverse charges, but I'm not at my desk."
"Master Bruce has been expecting your call. One moment."
There was a click, then a pause; a second click, and Bruce's voice came on the line.
"Clark?"
"You have some top notch reporters in Gotham," I said. "Brucie in a Beanie, really?"
"That's the least of my worries this morning. Turn the page."
I looked down at the paper, then obediently turned it over. Crime report on one side, editorials and the crossword puzzle on the other.
"Second column, left-hand page," Bruce said.
DARING DAYLIGHT ESCAPE DURING PRISONER TRANSFER
Disfigured German war criminal Josef Kuhr disappears from van transporting him to Washington, DC for trial during Gotham stopover; Gotham police vow to nab the Nazi.
"Bruce," I said, "you can't seem to win for losing."
"At least he won't be hard to catch," Bruce said. "I mean, he can't exactly go out in public with a face like his and not get noticed."
"Plus he's crazier than a sack of snakes."
"That too, and what a charming colloquialism. Smallville in origin?"
"You can take the boy off the farm..." I smiled. "Are you okay? You need the League?"
"No, I'll handle it. Diana already called, I told her it was fine. Gotham's good at hiding evil, but not that good. I'm going to enjoy this," he said with grim satisfaction. "I'm going to hunt him down and walk him into the courthouse myself, if I have to, and if they let me I'll put the damn rope around his neck."
"I wouldn't blame you."
"Good," he said. "I do need to talk to you at some point, though. I thought I'd take Ari down to Metropolis this week. I'll call when we arrive."
"Sounds good -- I have to go," I said, as I heard the water shut off in Lois's shower. "Tell Ari I say hi."
"He'll be pleased. Ciao," he added, in his dumbest, flightiest Bruce Wayne voice, and I laughed as I hung up the phone.
***
Bruce called me the following Thursday evening, giving me the number of his suite at the Metropolis Grand. Lois caught the end of the conversation -- "Be there in half an hour" -- and raised an eyebrow.
"Secret assignation?" she asked, leaning on my desk. Below, where nobody could see, I rested a hand on her knee.
"Nobody who could compare," I replied. "It's uniform business."
"Ah. You know, sometimes I miss the days when you'd stammer and get flustered because you couldn't tell me where you were going," she said with a grin.
"I don't."
"Well, I'll just have to take my other boyfriend out on the town," she said.
"Other boyfriend?"
"Bruce Wayne's in Metropolis. He asked me to drinks later tonight."
"Busy Brucie," I said.
"I would have made some excuse, but I want the story on that kid he's supposedly adopted."
"That's perilously close to the society column," I teased.
"Don't remind me. So, this uniform business. Anything Lois Lane, Intrepid Girl Reporter, should be in on?"
"I'll let you know. Try not to be Wayne's latest scandal."
"Do my best. See you tomorrow," she said, and kissed my cheek. Jimmy wolf-whistled.
"Nuts," I told him, and casually wiped lipstick off my cheek as I put on my hat.
***
Apparently Bruce had brought the whole establishment to Metropolis with him; when I got to the suite, Alfred let me in and took my coat and hat, then showed me into a large reception room where Bruce was sitting near a window, reading.
"Clark, good to see you. Have a seat," he said, setting the book aside. "Metropolis is as...sunny as ever."
"We enjoy it," I answered. "Where's Ari?"
"On the roof, shooting pigeons with a slingshot."
"Is that wise?" I asked. "Letting him roam around alone?"
"That's the point of the medal, isn't it? I try to give him as much freedom as I can. Besides, it's pretty difficult to get onto the roof of the Metropolis Grand."
"How is he?"
"Better than he was. He's strong, resilient. But Ari's not why I wanted to talk to you," he added, lacing his hands over his stomach, studying me. "The robot Luthor built."
"What about it?"
"I have a theory about its power source. A machine that big would take far more power than most conventional means could supply. Just building it would suck electricity from the Metropolis grid. I think he was using unconventional means."
"The rock," I said. "The green rock that went right through me when it blew."
"It didn't sit well with me. I've seen you shake off a missile, but a little debris put you out?" he shook his head. "I looked into it."
"I'm not enjoying the sound of this," I said.
"I didn't imagine you would, but you need to know. Wayne International supervised the cleanup of the hangar disaster. I think I've collected nearly all of the rock, but given Luthor's ability to plan, I suspect he has other caches," Bruce said, picking up a small box that was sitting on a decorative table nearby. "It's not an element known on Earth."
He opened the box, and immediately the air grew heavy the way it had in the hangar; my ears roared, and it was hard to breathe. He snapped it shut again almost instantly.
"What is that?" I gasped.
"You told me that you didn't have these powers when you were a child," Bruce said. "It wasn't until you spent an extended period of time away from Smallville that you developed them. I sent a survey team to Kansas and they called in last week; the same ore is found in many of the farm fields outside Smallville, including trace amounts at the Kent farm. Don't worry; they were discreet," he added, as I glared at him. "The meteor shower the night you fell to Earth, your celestial escort -- that was pieces of your home planet. I'd have to do more tests, which I don't think you'd like. But I have a theory that this," he shook the box, "inhibits your abilities. The box is lined in lead. The one metal you can't see through."
"Are you telling me Lex Luthor went to Smallville and...what, mined the farms?"
"Ten years after Kansas got its meteor shower, there was a meteor strike in Siberia. Norilsk, north of Tunguska. Tunguska got one in 1908. I think all three are related. I think there were multiple small strikes for about thirty years. Those were just the three major ones."
I felt sick. "Strikes. Debris from my planet."
"Yes. Primarily in Siberia and the American midwest -- big land masses with scattered populations. Fortunate, in its own way; if the meteor that hit Tunguska had hit Gotham...no more Gotham."
"Sorry if I'm failing to see the silver lining," I said.
"There isn't one, not really. The OSS knew that Luthor spent some time in Siberia during the war. I think he found this ore -- this Kryptonite, if you want to call it that -- and realized it could be used as a power source."
"Why wouldn't he just sell it?"
"It's highly unstable. The stuff we found at the hangar had to have been refined very carefully. And I think he wanted to keep it for himself. Who controls energy, controls the world," he said. "Wayne International has some pretty heavy energy investments, so I know what I'm talking about."
I considered what this might mean. Peppered across two continents were chunks of ore that could incapacitate Superman. Not heartening.
"Everything Wayne International recovered has been safely buried," Bruce continued. "I kept this sample out to show you what it can do."
"You think Luthor has more?"
"I do. There's no real solution to it, other than to make sure you're well-prepared if you go against him again. Take this, if you want it," he added, pushing the box across to me. "Have someone you trust run tests on it."
"I trust you."
He looked at me, startled, but before he could answer, the door burst open and Ari came through it at top speed. He stopped when he saw me, then smiled and opened his mouth to speak.
"Ah," Bruce said, and Ari took off the medal I'd given him, slipping it into his pocket. "English, please."
"Good afternoon Mr. Kent," Ari said, haltingly. "Pleasure to see you again."
"I don't want him depending on the necklace for his English," Bruce said. "All right, back on for now."
Ari put the medal back on and approached shyly. "You have a lovely city, Superman."
"He's nuts about Superman," Bruce said, sounding bored. "He wants a red cape. Do you know how useless red capes are?"
"What do you want a red cape for?" I asked.
"Fighting!" Ari said.
"Are you taking him out with you?" I asked Bruce, shocked.
"Not yet," Ari replied, sounding disappointed.
"We're discussing it," Bruce answered. I looked back at Ari again. He did look miles happier -- more like a boy, less like a wounded animal -- but there was a darkness in his eyes that I recognized. You could see the same darkness in Bruce's. A hard shadow born of suffering that would never fully heal.
"Why do you want to fight?" I asked Ari. He glanced at Bruce, who nodded.
"Bruce says we can't be afraid," he said slowly. "And we have to have hope. Fighting gives us hope. Fighting makes him happier. I want to be happier," he added, and cocked his head at me. "Why do you fight?"
"I had a calling," I said.
"How old were you?"
"Twenty-two."
"Am I too young to have a calling?"
"He's good," I said to Bruce. "No," I replied, turning back to Ari. "I don't suppose you are."
"Run along and wash before dinner," Bruce said. "Mr. Kent and I have grownup things to discuss."
"Aw!"
"Go," Bruce said, shooing him. Ari went, dragging his feet. When the door closed, he said, "Please don't -- "
"Are you seriously going to take a child into combat?" I asked.
"Do you honestly think I could stop him? He's been in real combat in the war, and he's even more stubborn than I am. He's too young now for street fighting, but he wants to train with me -- what am I supposed to do? At least if I'm teaching him I know when he does inevitably go out there, he'll be strong. Unafraid. And he'll be with me."
I cast a skeptical look at the door. "He's still eleven."
"And I told him I won't take him out until he's fourteen. Maybe by then he'll..." he shook his head. "Maybe he'll have healed the way I couldn't. Three years is an eternity for a child."
"You can't fight the calling, I guess," I said.
"No." He tapped his fingers on the lead box. "No, you can't. Anyway, take this. Wayne International has a mandate out to all our survey and construction teams to report in if they've found Kryptonite. I can't get past the Soviets -- and yes, to answer your question belatedly, the KGB very much wants my head if I ever go near Asia again -- but I'll do what I can for the rest."
"Thank you."
"Told you. I owe you."
"Told you, you gave me a car."
"How's it running, by the way?" he asked, smiling.
"Like a dream, thanks." I stood, carefully tucking the box in my pocket. "Let me know if you get a bead on Kuhr. I'll give Batman the best press of his life in return for an exclusive."
"I'll hold you to that," he replied, walking me to the door. "Look after yourself, Clark."
"You too, Bruce."
When I got home, I pried open my old mess kit, laying the lead box carefully on top of the paperwork Alan had given me. I sealed it up again, set it on the highest shelf in the kitchen, and shoved a truly ugly gravy boat Ma had sent me in front of it.
I was just brushing my teeth when there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, Lois looked at me -- toothbrush in my mouth, plaid pajamas on -- and grinned.
"Am I interrupting anything?"
"No," I said, hastily taking the toothbrush out of my mouth. "Nothing at all. How was the Wayne meetup?"
"Productive. Got some good quotes, I'll file it tomorrow. He seems to be settling down a little. I thought I'd see if you wanted late company."
"Always," I replied. It's hard to be suave with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Make yourself at home, I'm going to..." I pointed to the toothbrush.
When I came out of the bathroom, she was wearing one of my pajama shirts, sitting on the bed. I crawled over to her, kissed her, and rested my forehead against hers.
"Uniform business go off okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, it went fine," I replied. "Nothing newsworthy."
"You sound happy about it."
"I'm happy you're here," I said. "I'm -- I like my life an awful lot. I'm lucky and I'm grateful for it tonight."
"Good," she answered, fingers toying with the top button of my shirt. "Now, how about we make a little scandal?"
I laughed and followed her down into the blankets.
***
Epilogue