She walked down the steps and out the revolving doors, feeling just a little more free with every step she took. As hard as it was to leave home, it always had to be done. That's how a person found herself, again, literally for her. And every step to the parking garage, to her car was just another step toward...
"Knowledge."
She stopped, her feeling of freedom suddenly replaced by something else.
"What we know." There was a low laugh. "It's almost whimsical and fleeting, isn't it?"
She felt suddenly constricted as she turned to face Lex Luthor.
"Mr. Luthor." She shifted her box to her other arm.
He smiled. "Where are my manners? Why don't I help you with..."
"It's not heavy," she said, turning again and moving to her car. She thought of the tape, labeled Grady in the box. From what she knew, he might want to get his hands on it. She moved to her car, pulling her keys out and pressing a button. She put the box in the back seat, closing the door before she turned to face him. "Any reason you're here? I told you I was busy."
"Yes." He came forward. "I see you're working late. But I only need a moment." He stopped, staring at her, his eyes running over her face.
"Fine." She glanced around the nearly empty parking garage and shifted her keys in her hand. There was a panic button on the side. It would set off the car alarm. She hoped she didn't need to push it. A week ago, she wouldn't have thought so, but there was something about him now... "What do you need?"
"You've been avoiding me."
"As you know, I've been undercover. Our PR people surely told you about the investigation and that we know..."
"I don't care about that," he said, his eyes never wavering. "We had an agreement. And I wonder why you'd so easily brush it off."
"An agreement..."
"Yes. An agreement," he said, his voice rising as she positioned her thumb over the button. He didn't come nearer, though. "I provided you with information. Information which you were supposed to dissect for me, give me some insight..."
"I don't recall signing anything," she said, holding his gaze. "And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather our agreement was off."
"And why?"
"Maybe I don't like the way you've called me. Demanding I see you." She stiffened. "I'm not one of your employees."
"I never meant to imply it," he said, tilting his head. "But I did fulfill my end. I gave you disks, scans and..."
"Yes. I got your package." She was still angry about that. To find it all gone, even her laptop...
"And yet you never responded. I was counting on you to make sense of it. Stupid of me, probably, considering... Well, considering a few things." He was staring hard again.
"And how was I supposed to do that?" she snapped. "I couldn't get much out of them before they vanished like..."
"What?" He moved forward like a shot and grasped her arms. Her keys clattered to the floor. "No! I never authorized that."
She didn't think he had. She had no idea who was behind it. A part of her thought it might be her so-called friends, keeping her from what she now knew to be true. But she still couldn't be sure. "It was gone," she said truthfully. "All gone." She was almost glad of it at the moment. She no longer wanted to help this man, even if what he had could help her. She knew in the caves. There was something wrong with him. She'd pitied him then. She even pitied him now. "Let go of me," she growled. "I can't help you."
"You mean won't." He pressed her against her car and she wondered exactly when she should start screaming. "I don't appreciate being duped and you were playing me all along."
"Shouldn't men like you hire thugs for this kind of activity, Luthor?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "I'd think attacking women in the dark was beneath you."
He paled and loosened his grip. "Just tell me," he said, his voice shaking.
"What exactly do you think I can tell you?" She pushed him away. "Whatever you want, I don't have it."
"What about what you wanted?" he hissed, moving closer again. "You wanted to know what kind of progress I was making with my own project." His eyes narrowed. "And I wonder why that was."
"That's my business."
"And it's mine if you're keeping tabs..."
"Is that what you think?" she spat. "Honestly, I could care less what you do as long as it's far away from me." She pushed him back and bent to scoop up her keys. "If I thought your project would do me any good, I might have kept up. I don't want any part of your project. I'm getting a little sick of mad science." She shook her head and glared at him. "Look what it's done to you." She pointed her keys at him. "You come at me again and I will press charges. You have no further reason to contact me and I have no desire to contact you." She pulled open her door. "I will get back what I lost my way."
He gripped her arm. "What you lost..."
She shook him off and pushed him back. "I mean it, Luthor. You keep your distance."
He stumbled backwards, then righted himself. "But you said..." His eyes widened. "This wasn't just research to you. He did it. He did it to you, too."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, lying through her teeth as she got in.
"It's funny..." He gave a bitter laugh. "The possibilities you never consider. I never stopped to think you and I were on the same side."
She stopped before closing her door. No. No. That can't be it. Even if it had been, it couldn't be now. "Whatever side I'm on, it's not yours." She slammed her door shut and locked it, glancing at him once through the window as he still stood there.
She stared ahead of her resolutely, starting the car.
She didn't know, not yet, what Chloe Sullivan had done. But Lois Lane, however she'd come to be, would not be repeating those mistakes.
********************************
He couldn't write. He couldn't think. He felt strangely restless, anxious. Maybe he needed a walk or...
"Okay. Ten's up." Perry looked around. "Where's Lane?"
"We were done. Well, she was. I'm trying to close up. I just can't... actually do it." Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry. I've never been a great writer and..."
"Oh, Kent," Perry groaned. "Don't be a wuss."
"Uh..."
"You know why I gave you the end, Kent?"
"Well... Because of the hope thing and... I mean, I know I said it, but I'm not sure I can write it and..."
"Because you saw what I didn't," Perry cut in. "Lane and me... We're cut from the same hard-nosed cloth. We want to expose that dark underbelly and take down the bad guys. In another life, we might have been cops. But you..." Perry shrugged and sat across from Clark. "You're different. I think there's a part of you that doesn't care about that underbelly as long as everybody's safe. I guess that makes you a fireman to Lane's cop." He sighed. "They both approach the save differently, but they're also both necessary. That's why you needed Lane on this story. And that's why I need you on the close. Because a cop can't write the end. He's still caught up in the chase, in the whys. But you... You come out of this clean. You're off the whys. You think about rebuilding. That's hope." He stood. "Some got it, some don't." He moved to the door. "And you got five more minutes, Kent, before I come after you."
Clark took a moment to stare after Perry. He hadn't thought of it that way. He supposed, after saving so many, he did come out clean. If he stopped too long to wonder why, he might not be able to move on to the next save.
And if he stopped too long to think about what Perry had said, he might not have a job tomorrow.
He took a deep breath and let his hands hover over the keyboard. Strangely, he didn't feel anxious anymore. He felt ready. Not just to write. But to rebuild.
*******************************
Lois nearly jumped out of bed. It was still dark and she shivered, realizing she'd never got under the covers last night. She was lucky she'd made it to the bed before she collapsed. She was done with that now. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she moved into the living room, nearing her computer. She'd left it on, despite the waste of electricity. She didn't want to get sloppy and lose anything. Besides that, she knew she wouldn't sleep long. Just enough to get going again.
Right now sleep was a waste, anyway. Not even a Chloe dream to fill in the blanks. She still wasn't sure if that was good or bad. But it seemed to help keep her clear. Dreams were unreliable, fragments of the day's thoughts and whatever her subconscious might send up. All out of order and none of it made sense. Last night, she dreamed of Lex Luthor chasing her though a garden, repeatedly hitting her over the head with an orchid. What the hell was that supposed to tell her?
Nothing, of course. Best to forget and get what solid facts she could.
She couldn't put it together. She shouldn't even try. Not yet. She just had to gather first. Once she had it all. And she was nowhere near having it all.
She didn't even have all the Chloe-shaped pieces. Even should she get every bit of info out there, she wouldn't have it all. But between those pieces and everything else that surrounded the girl, she would try. She hit print as she found another "Sullivan's Travels." It might have nothing of use, but it could join everything else in 2003. Maybe something would jump out later and click. And she was only on The Daily Planet's archives now. There was so much more to find.
The Smallville Ledger, for one. She didn't have access to their archives from home. But maybe the public library... She dreaded having to work with microfiche, but she would if she had to.
Then there was The Torch. It was just a high school paper. She wasn't likely to find it archived anywhere. But you really never knew what you could find.
But that was later. Once she exhausted her sources from home, she could venture out.
There was time. She had fifteen days.
*****************************
"Okay. Come on. Drop it. We don't have time for that."
Murray brushed Clark off. "Oh, just one more. Doctor Takamoto, who has tended to these victims with both care and diligence..." Murray grinned. "That has to be my favorite quote, except for this one. It's humbling to see the human spirit move on from such darkness and still find the light. The phrase 'only human' is almost silly when you see..."
"Alright. Dry up." Clark found himself smiling. "Lois penned the stuff about you, anyway, so..."
"And what about that last line?"
"Well, that was me. But... I think we should get to work."
"But you must be a little excited. Your first front page."
"It's kind of cool." Or really, really freakin awesome! On the way here, he'd seen several people with copies of The Daily Planet and had to stop himself from grinning like a fool. And that was just early morning. By afternoon, the whole city might have read it. "But I can't spend the day resting on my laurels, here. We have a lot to do."
"Not even ten minutes? That's the problem with the young," Murray said. "They never take time to stop and smell the roses. Right, Sara?"
"They never take time for anything," Sara Ramirez said, sitting on a milk crate in the corner, sipping from a paper cup. The address Murray had given him had turned out to be an old warehouse near the lake. "Queen could have taken time, for instance, to put a chair or something in here."
"Oh, I'm sure that won't be a problem if we ask. Of course, he is in Star City. But if we call..." Murray shook his head. "Well, I'm sure we'll be a bit too busy for sitting."
"Busy with what?" Sara gestured to Clark. "I don't see anything wrong with him. He looks healthy to me."
"Oh, well... It's not that Clark is sick or anything. He's just having trouble accessing his... abilities. And two trained doctors couldn't hurt."
"Might not help, either. But I'm not complaining." Ramirez shrugged. "I have a paid vacation here, either way. And Linda says the shopping's not bad. Won't bother me if he sits around slacking for a few hours."
"Well, we haven't really tried," Murray said hopefully. He moved to a two-by-four on the floor and picked it up. "Here, Clark. Maybe you could... try to break it or something. Huh?"
"Uh..." Clark took the wood and held it on either side. "Well, I don't know if I can just..."
"Then don't." Ramirez sat back against the wall. "I have no problem sitting around watching the equivalent of grass growing for an hour or so." She stared at Clark. "Yes. Extremely interesting."
"Well, Sara, he just needs to warm up..."
"Why? He's not sick. His powers are there. You ask me he's perezoso." She turned her head to Clark. "Oh, that means lazy, so you know."
Clark gripped the wood harder.
"Now, just a moment." Murray strode to her. "I've known Clark for quite some time and he's not lazy at all. If he wasn't having genuine problems, he'd be..."
"What?" Sara stood. "Saving Metropolis? In a city like this, someone is victimized every ten minutes." She pointed at Clark. "You think he cares? Listen, I know heroes like him. He's so caught up in some poor me little world, he doesn't see beyond the end of his nose, if that far and..."
Clark closed his eyes against a spray of... something. He coughed slightly and looked down. The middle and ends of the plank were on the floor. In his hands were two piles of sawdust. He looked up at the two of them, silent now.
Sara gestured to Clark, looking slightly smug. "Well, there you go."
Clark dusted his hands off. "But I didn't mean to."
"Doesn't matter." She moved to the side and picked up a steel bar. "You can and you know it. Victor said anger seems to trigger you. So your powers aren't gone. You just have to stop being such a mierda de pollo." She handed the bar to him. "That means chickenshit." He took the bar and she stood back. "Now, bend it."
"But I have no control. I can't just..."
"I said bend it, you sad little excuse for a hero!"
Clark jumped slightly and his hands came together, bending the bar in his hands.
Murray clapped suddenly. "Good work, Clark." He smiled at Sara. "Listen, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh there."
She patted his shoulder. "Takamoto, if you call that harsh, you should hear me on bowling night."
"Well, I wasn't sure what you were doing. But Oliver did say you had a certain way about you."
"Well, he knows my history. I used to teach gym before I was a doctor, you know."
Murray smiled. "I can see that about you."
Sara's head snapped to Clark. "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to tie that in a knot? ¡Ahora!"
*********************************
"Thanks, Doris."
"No problem, Hon. But why do you want to know about Jimmy's employment history?"
"Just wondering. Have all this time on my hands and I was thinking about how Jimmy seems to have been there so long. It's a wonder he hasn't been promoted. I mean, he took some great shots for the story." It was all partially true. The spread was lovely. There was shot in there that made even Mitzi look angelic. "He can't fetch coffee forever."
"Between you and me," Doris said lowly, "I think Perry just wants to keep him close. You know Perry's son is a bad apple. Having a nice boy like Jimmy around is probably..."
"Doris, did you check the numbers like I asked?" It was Perry's voice. Lois found herself shrinking back from her desk, as if he'd reach through the phone lines and drag her back to work.
"I told you, I'm waiting for accounting to get back to me. It's not like we didn't sell out nearly everywhere. Half the news stands have had demands for reprints."
"Hmm. Might just do that. Can't hurt if... Who are you talking to?"
Doris sighed. "I'll have to call you back... um... Maryanne."
Lois silently thanked Doris for not saying it was her and stood, moving to crouch in front of the large white board propped against her wall.
She stared at the column under 2002, then marked it with Jimmy's name. So Jimmy also interned there, along with Chloe. The same for 2003. Except Chloe had that column then.
But she felt she had all she could get from The Planet now. She had other places to look. But that didn't mean she had to look herself. She looked back at her clock. It was after five, but not everywhere. Though she found herself sometimes blocked on the computer, there had to be hard evidence somewhere... say in Pennsylvania.
She quickly dialed from her note on a post-it. "Hi, Mr. Webber. It's Lois Lane. Have you given any thought to my assignment?"
**************************************
He was beat. He felt like he'd been on a roller coaster. From Ramirez berating him yesterday to Perry hounding him today to find him "a damned story already," to the knowledge that he was in for more "re-training" tonight, he just wanted to curl up and sleep.
And it was only six now.
He knew he wasn't physically weak. Maybe the fatigue was all in his mind. But he was tired all the same. It wasn't about to stop him, however. This morning, he'd bent his skillet. He'd been pretty happy about it until he realized it was no longer usable. He'd tried to bend it back then, but it was still wobbly on the burner and his eggs had spilled out on the stove top, half-cooked. He'd need heat to really get it back into shape and his efforts with that had been less than successful. But he'd get there.
And that was a good feeling. It was one he hadn't had before last night.
Ramirez and Murray seemed to think as Victor did. He'd been drained and was recharged, but was trying too hard to do the things that should come naturally.
"We just find a trigger, then work at it constantly," Ramirez had said. "Think of it as going to the gym."
He let himself in, sliding the large door back. As tough as he knew this evening would be, he was nearly looking forward to it. Not the during, of course, but the after.
he looked around him. There wasn't likely to be an after or a during if no one was here. "Hello?" he shouted.
His cell rang and he dug it out of hi pocket. "Hello?" he said, a little more quietly.
"Clark, old buddy! Glad you could make it."
"AC?" He looked around again. "Where are you? And where's Murray and..." He gulped slightly. "And Doctor Ramirez?"
"Actually Murray had to go to Chicago. Something about robotics. Vic seemed into it, but I nearly fell asleep just hearing him explain. And Ramirez and Linda are off doing some girly thing. I told her to take the night off."
"You did?"After last night, he didn't think anyone could order her around.
"Well, I just suggested it. The way I see it, we should all pitch in and I knew exactly how I'd help."
"Okay," Clark said tightly. He kind of wanted this re-train to be more private. But he could accept more help... if he had to. "So how exactly are you helping? Where are you?"
"Don't you worry about that," AC said jovially. "Now I want you to pick up any metallic thing you see..."
Clark shrugged and picked up an old car from a pile of junk in the corner. He thought he had a handle on his strength now, but he was open to more work. "Like this?"
"Yeah. That's good... Now bend it."
Clark started to bring his hands together and the metal groaned slightly.
"Good job, Clark. I knew you still had it in you."
Clark looked around. "But I didn't finish..."
AC laughed. "No. I'm kidding. I can't even see you. But I did see you go in."
Clark spun around. "From where?"
"Go to the east window." Clark did, peering through the dirty glass. "Can you see me?"
"No."
"Oh, I forgot. It's getting dark. Wait a sec." There was shuffling and then Clark saw some flashes of light near the dock. "Flashing you here."
"Glad I'm not close enough to see it."
"Oh, very funny." The light flashed a few more times, "Hey, what's morse code for 'kiss my ass'?"
"Moving on," Clark said. "How exactly are you supposed to help me from over there?"
"I'm getting to that." AC cleared his throat. "So... Right now, you're the big strong man of steel, right? But what good are you if you have no reaction time, no speed? So I, in my infinite wisdom, decided that speed was next."
"So... what? I'm supposed to sprint to you? It's not that easy for..."
"Didn't say it was. But I think you could get to me pretty fast with the right motivation."
Clark sighed. "AC, could you speed this up a bit?"
"No. That's your job. I just swim fast. And that's one of the reasons I'm here on the docks of this, not kidding, dirty-ass lake. If you get back up to supermode, you need to talk to someone about this because..."
"Will you get to the point?"
"I'm getting there," AC said leisurely. "So you need to stop thinking and just do and, apparently, you need some kind of motivation. Well, I got that motivation. I have something in my hands that will have you speeding, Guy. Can you see?"
Clark whipped off his glasses and tried to look closer, where the light still shone. "You know I can't. And if you're focus is speed, then why are you harping on my vision. I can't..."
"Fine, fine. I'll spill. I have, in my hands, a plastic baggie." AC paused. "That's just protection, actually. But inside this plastic baggie, there's an envelope. Do you want to know what's in the envelope, Clark?"
"Come on," Clark groaned. "This is getting old already."
"I know, but indulge me. First, I have to establish the rules. I have a radio. With this radio, I can contact Bart, who was told to wait at Peppino's pizza. He doesn't mind that, of course. And, considering Bart is faster than you, him at Peppino's is nearly equal to you in the warehouse, if you were at full speed, though just behind. Victor did some calculations on that." AC took a breath. "The first one to get to the envelope gets the envelope to do with as they please."
"What is it? Money? Because I really don't care about..."
"It's more important than that, Clark. You're going to want this. Believe me."
"This is stupid." Clark moved to the door. "I don't know what you have in there, but it can't be that..."
"Before you think of rushing over here before I've had time to notify Bart an give him a fair chance, you should know I am prepared to jump in the lake and swim anywhere faster than anyone can possibly catch me, then make sure this gets to Bart... to do with as he pleases."
Clark huffed and stayed still. "You're bluffing. You can't have anything so important."
"Can so." AC laughed. "In fact, I had lunch with your mom today. Lovely lady, as usual. But did you know she has an insane number of photo albums?"
"Of course I know. She's my mom. But..."
"And she saves everything. Even sweet pictures of little Clark. Like in second grade. When he insisted on sleeping in She-Ra, Princess of Power sheets. Couldn't go for He-man, at least, could you Clark?"
Clark felt the blood leave his face as he stood in the doorway. "Well... I was seven and I don't see what's so..."
"Not only that, there are some very incriminating photos of you meticulously brushing your She-Ra doll's hair."
Clark froze on the spot.
"Just before putting her to bed in the Crystal Palace," AC finished. "Once again, I am prepared to jump if you make a move. I see you there, Clark."
"AC, this is silly. Who cares what I did when I was eight years..."
"Excuse me. I've got a radio appointment." AC paused and there was a metallic chirping noise. "Bart?"
There was a loud beep. "Yeah?" the voice was tinny, but there. "Uh... I mean copy."
"Before I give Bart the go ahead, Clark, I should mention that he has become very internet savvy. This photo could be emailed to every employee at The Planet before the night is out."
Clark shook his head at no one. "AC, don't do this." It was bad enough that Bart could have it. But that he could actually do something with it... It was chilling.
There was another chirp. "Bart, are you in place? Because you know where I am."
There was a beep. "Yeah, yeah. I'm ready. But what the hell is this about, anyway?"
A chirp. "Trust me, Bart. You'll want to be here when I say go."
Clark tried not to crush the cell phone next to his ear. "AC, no. Please..."
There was a chirp. "One, two, three... Go!"
"NO!"
Clark found himself at the docks with a ziplock bag in his hands. He only marveled at that for a moment before he ripped it to shreds. There was a rush of wind, blowing some of it from his hands into the water.
"What? What's going on?"
Clark turned to see Bart, eyes darting from him to AC.
AC shrugged and smiled at Bart. "Nothing. Just... a test." He moved to Clark and patted him on the back. "Good job, Clark."
Clark stared at Bart and let the rest of the pieces fly.
"Good job? Did he... speed?"
AC nodded.
"Man, I miss everything," Bart groaned.
"You have no idea," AC said, moving away from them.
**************************
This was the hard part. She was wincing even as she clicked play... and on youtube, of all places. The video was from one LuthorLuvr24. The title was "Sexy Lexy on LNN, P1."
She supposed someone could, objectively, call Lex sexy, if they didn't know what a screwed up piece of work he was. But that wasn't what bothered her. It was this strange feeling... as if this wasn't exactly new. Of course, she had that feeling nearly daily and today was no different.
The video loaded and "Lex Luthor's heartbreak" appeared on the screen.
"Cry me a river," she found herself saying, then shook her head. The words had seemed to come out of nowhere.
A woman in a red suit appeared on the tiny video screen, walking through a sort of glade. "Many people believe Lex Luthor, billionaire and philanthropist, to be a monster. A man who would kill his own father and a young reporter while masterminding an illegal cloning project with renegade military help. But is it all so black and white?" She smiled. "I'm Racquel Davies and welcome to our exclusive."
She leaned forward.
The title flashed again before the camera panned over the grounds of Belle Reve.
And she could nearly see it, but from another angle, one not so pastoral. A window, just beyond the woman... She found herself crying, even as the woman with the obnoxious, condescending look appeared again.
"Belle Reve Sanitarium is home to the mentally ill, some criminal, some just victims of mental illness. But these past eight months, it's housed a resident who many now believe is neither. We were able to sit down with Lex Luthor for only five minutes. The rules regarding those considered threats are very strict at Belle Reve. But those five minutes opened us up to some very revealing truths."
Lex Luthor appeared against a window crossed with wires. He was wearing the white that all Belle Reve inmates donned and leaning back, an expression of sadness on his face. "There are holes in my mind. There are things I don't remember..."
It was all so familiar. She felt as is she could mouth every word right along.
"New evidence suggests that Lionel Luthor set up this project under his son's name. Chloe Sullivan, the woman found dead at the scene, is believed to have been Lionel Luthor's direct assistant in this matter." The camera was in the room with them again. "What about Chloe Sullivan?"
"Yes," she breathed. "What about Chloe Sullivan?"
"I suppose I must have shot someone," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. "But I remember it clearly. I remember him shooting her. My father..." He looked down. "I'm sorry..."
"Take your time."
"My father was a monster. He was always losing employees. Chloe Sullivan had once testified against him in his trial over his father's murder. He later was released, but... They seemed to be seen together again.
"No," she whispered. "No." She'd looked up Lionel Luthor. He was... old. Older than her own... Gabriel Sullivan. "No, no, no." Hadn't Pauline Kahn shot that down?
"He was a charming man and my father's taste in women ran younger, the older he got."
She was ready to shut it off when it suddenly stopped, showing p2 on the black screen left. She didn't want to see. She didn't... But she had to. It was only research, she told herself again as p2 loaded.
"I know he couldn't be so forgiving, whatever their relationship was. He held long grudges. I must have shot him. I know I could never have stood to see someone die in front of me."
He looked down and the picture returned to Racquel walking the path in front of Belle Reve. "The police both here and in The Yukon are still investigating, but Lex hopes their evidence will find what he knows to be true." There was Lex in the room again. "Are you afraid?"
"If I did these things," he said, his eyes slightly misted, "then I deserve to be where I could never hurt someone. But I know myself. And I know all I can do is hope justice is served."
The woman appeared in front of Belle Reve again. "Brave words. We can all only hope that justice is served. Not just for the people victimized in the Ruby Ridge experiments, but for Lex Luthor, truly the lost boy he always..."
She shut it off. She couldn't take it. Even if every word was true, she didn't want to hear that...
"No." She reloaded the first video, watching closely. Somewhere inside she knew that his words about her and Lionel Luthor were false. Little tells he let leak in the interview. He was lying through his teeth and she could see it. But there was something else there... A sort of glint in his eye when he said...
"Chloe Sullivan..." She paused video on Lex as his eyes stared forward, probably at the camera. But she felt as if they were staring straight through... through time and space and right to her. It wasn't even the same Lex she'd come to know. This one had way about him. He... caressed the word. It was a strange idea, but he did. It was almost tangible, the way he...
She moved away from the computer resolutely. It was enough for tonight. She was shaky and... a little warm for winter.
She had an early day, as it was. She'd be in Smallville tomorrow. Between the library and the man she'd got hold of, the one who had saved every issue of The Torch, she had much to do. She had no time for Lex Luthor. And it was not at all about her being a coward...
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