Happening during Persona.
CHAPTER ONE
Chloe had always wanted to work under the Tiffany lamps upstairs. She just never thought it would be filing and at the request of Lex Luthor. It was some bizarre monkey's paw version of her wish. And she knew why he'd done it. He wanted her to see. He wanted her to watch him dismantle her paper, her dream, one person at a time.
She slammed the file drawer closed as she stared at the door of Lex's office. Peterson had just gone in and she knew how he'd come out. It would be a storm-off, angry and bitter. A lot of them came out, wide-eyed and nearly in tears, but Peterson wouldn't. As much as he complained about the long hours and the time away from his family, he loved this job. He'd been here over twenty years. And he hated seeing this paper go to the dogs with "Lex Luthor and his space-mongering."
"I didn't sign up to work at The Weekly World News," he'd said.
Of course, he'd said this at the wrong time and to the wrong person. How was he to know that Lex would be doing one of his basement walk-throughs at the time? That was another little treat he gave her. He had to make sure she saw him, that she knew he was watching her.
"Space-mongering." She herself knew it wasn't exactly Weekly World News material. In this tri-county area, it was all too true. After her years of bringing it to light, it was ironic that she was now sitting on things that could have had her under these lamps a year ago. But that was for the best. What Clark was doing, what she was doing... The world didn't need to know. Not if Clark wasn't ready to come out of the superhero closet as Ollie and his team had. They might not understand. They might fear Clark. They might... hurt him.
And they would if Luthor succeeded in painting aliens as some kind of dark threat and nothing else. It was another of the many reasons she suspected he'd acquired The Daily Planet. She didn't kid herself that Luthor was finished dabbling in mad science. He probably had a few more Ares and 33.1 operations up his sleeve.
It was almost inspired and she wondered that she hadn't seen it coming. Get the people aware that we're not alone, get them good and scared. Maybe then when the next 33.1 came along and came to light, Lex would be painted with a hero's brush.
And she would know it wasn't true, yet she'd be forced to watch it. She wondered if she could.
Still, she was here. As long as she kept him from finding proof, The Daily Planet would be okay.
And so would Clark.
She couldn't leave. She'd play along as long as she could. A nurse doesn't leave her post when she's needed the most.
She glanced up as the door opened. It wasn't exactly a storm-off. Peterson looked very calm, except for the stiffness of his walk as he moved past her. "Peterson? Did he..."
"Yes, he did," Peterson said through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry."
He stopped and turned to her. "Don't worry about me, Kid. I would've quit by the end of the week. At least this way, I get a severance package." He squeezed her shoulder. "I mean this in the nicest way, Sullivan, but I hope you get fired, too. There's plenty of papers in this state alone that aren't run by rich boys that don't know shit about the business."
She watched him walk away, a lump in her throat. They'd lost so many this week. Good reporters, some who'd been there decades. She'd always thought she'd be one of them. Now...
"Sullivan?"
She took a deep breath before she turned. "Mr. Luthor?"
He was standing at the door of his office with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Can I see you for a moment?"
It was about the same thing he'd said to all of them. She smiled back tightly. "Of course."
She had to give him credit for surprising her. She was so sure he'd want to play with his food a little longer before destroying it. Of course, it didn't seem he was done playing at all. He held the door open just far enough for her to pass, but not far enough that she could avoid brushing against him as she did so. It was another game he played. Without saying a word, he constantly reminded her of that night by looking her way, standing too close, inconsequential brushes that said nothing to the average observer, but said only too much to her.
She pressed back against the frame and stepped in sideways, keeping space between them.
It didn't seem to faze him. He only smiled and gestured to a chair in front of his desk. "Would you care to sit?"
"Thank you." She turned from him as she heard the door close, but stopped as she felt hands... his hands on her shoulders. She froze. She didn't know what to do with this. It was too overt. Should she shake him off? Slap him? She gasped slightly as one hand left her shoulder and brushed against her neck.
"Tag's sticking out," he said near her ear. She felt his finger in the neck of her blouse... just a little too long. "There. Don't you look buttoned-up and professional?"
As opposed to naked and underneath you, I suppose. "Thank you." She quickly stepped away and seated herself. "It's good to know I haven't been called in for a dress-code violation."
"Of course not." He moved around to his desk and perched on the edge in front of her.
And now I have to look up at you? Nice power move. "Then why?" she asked, done with the games.
"Just wanted to issue a friendly warning. I realize the basement staff has been significantly diminished. And it may be some time before I find suitable replacements."
Malleable replacements, her mind corrected. "I see."
"Just want to make sure you and the remaining staff stay on top of things. I don't want this paper to become sub-standard due to some minor staff changes."
Like losing half the staff? "I'm sure we can handle it."
"Good. I'm sure there will be many late nights. But I'll be right here as well." He smiled and stood, his hands moving to his tie, loosening it. It was when he started on the buttons of his shirt that she stood as well.
"What are you..."
"Just changing shirts." He shrugged it off and moved to a cabinet, pulling it off as he went. "You don't mind, do you? I have a Luthorcorp meeting at eleven and I can't show up in these Planet rags."
"It's fine," she said through her teeth. They both knew that wasn't the reason he was striding around shirtless, not even an undershirt. It was just another reminder that she'd seen much more of him. And she wanted to turn away, but she didn't... or maybe she couldn't. Maybe she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
Or maybe these reminders were working and the way her eyes were glued to the muscles in his back until he pulled another shirt up over it was all part of the plan. She raised her eyes to his face as he turned, smirking, shirt open in front. "Pretty cold to go without an undershirt," she remarked, turning away.
"Hmm. You may be right."
She gave in and turned fully away as he took the new shirt off, her insides clenching. "Are we done?"
"You tell me."
Yes. We are. I am never touching you again, you slimy, shirtless... "I have about a million things to do and you don't want us basement dwellers to get behind so..."
"Of course. I'll be seing you this evening, I'm sure. You can run away for now."
She turned slowly, glaring as he buttoned up.
He smiled. "Oh... I mean run along."
"Will do. Thank you, Mr. Luthor," she said tightly as she stalked toward the door. "Pleasure working for you, Mr. Luthor," she muttered as she nearly stomped down the steps. No elevator for her. She had some rage to burn off. After watching the employee scale-down, then enduring Lex's own personal version of chasing the secretary around the desk, she didn't know how much more she could take. "Can't wait for those late nights," Mr. Luthor, she hissed as she hit the basement. I'll be right here as well, he'd said. Could she do her work safely locked in archives? Maybe he wouldn't find her there. Because she wasn't sure what she'd do if he did. Slap him? Kick him? Grab him and... No! No, no, no, no, no!
Lois had finally wised up and stopped seeing Grant. And for real this time. What kind of a hypocrite would she be if she let herself cavort with none other than Lex Luthor? She just had to stay clear of him... if he'd let her.
"Jesus, I don't know what to do." Megan, one of the young interns, was staring at the fax. She turned wild eyes to Chloe. "I mean, the apps... I'm supposed to mark and file them, but look at this!" She pointed to the mound of paper on her right. "I'm going to be here all night. They won't stop coming. I can't..."
"Take a break," Chloe cut in. "I'll take over for a bit. And you won't be here all night. I'll help you get out of here before then." Hopefully, I'll help me, too.
"Thanks," the girl breathed.
Chloe squeezed her arm. "We basement dwellers need to stick together."
"Yeah. If we don't want to lose our job to all these people." She glared at the faxed resumes and applications before moving to the break room.
Chloe stared at the fax. She'd just bet Luthor wanted to look over every single applicant himself, see who he cold manipulate best.
"Looks like some people lost their jobs."
Chloe looked up. Clark was coming down the steps. She'd hardly seen Clark since he'd been back. Maybe he understood all she had on her plate and was giving her some space. She didn't exactly want space. Ever since Lana had moved in, they had little enough time together. She can hardly remember the last time they'd curled up with cocoa for a movie, even just to talk. With all that had happened, with Lex... Her life was missing the clear bright spot that was Clark. "Casualties of the new commander in chief, Lex Luthor," she quipped, trying for flip. "Out with the old, in with the new and easily controlled. What's up?"
"I need you to help me find someone -- a Kryptonian scientist."
It was nearly a welcome distraction. But a part of her resented that he was only here because he needed something. Not even a nod to the fact that he'd stayed so clear of her. "Another Kryptonian?" She moved with the new app to the file cabinets. "Jeez, Clark, I'm starting to think that Earth was your home planet's top tourist destination." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "How'd you hear about this guy?
"Jor-El told me."
"Look, Clark, usually, I'm right there to help, but right now, my hands are so full." She pulled the book down for the A to J's and placed the app in. She thought he understood that. She thought that was why he'd stayed away. "And, uh, no offense, but Kryptonians aren't exactly low maintenance." This would mean hours on the computer with nearly no leads. Kryptonian scientist wasn't exactly a top hit on Google. And she didn't want to be here tonight... Not at all.
"Chloe, the only way I'm gonna find this guy is to hunt down the tracking device. Now, there's a rumor that some people found it. I thought the planet's archive might show a record."
He seemed strangely short with her. "Clark, look around. Lex launched a torpedo through the hull of the Daily Planet, and I'm just barely hanging onto the lifeboat. Can't this wait?"
"It will only take a second, Chloe." There was that tone again. "As soon as I find out who has this shield, I'll be out of your hair."
She stared at him. "Shield? Don't you already have one of those?" He only stared back. "The Kryptonian S.O.S. from the time capsule? Remember -- beauty pageant, gorgeous gold diggers..."
He nodded, pursing his lips. "Yeah," was all he said.
His eyes. there was something so off about them. They were the same, but... different. He'd been gone. Maybe his time in the fortress had changed him, hardened him somehow. She didn't know how to deal with him, especially not when his internal database was so off. "Clark," she turned him. "why don't you go home and just take a breather, and I'll call you later?" She wasn't sure she would. Maybe she should give in and have a talk with Lana. She might have noticed something off, too... She stopped as her arm was caught in a strong grip. A little too strong. Nearly painful.
"Where is it, Chloe?" She looked down at her arm, then at him, hurt and shock coursing through her. What was wrong with him? He smiled and released her. "I'm sorry. I just really need to find it. I was hoping you could jog my memory."
"You never forget anything. Your mind's like a titanium trap." So are your hands. And they never hurt me.
"Look, do you remember where I put the shield or not?" He added a smile. Not a real one, though.
"Sorry, Clark. I can't help you." She watched him leave with wary eyes. Lana. She had a lunch coming and she'd use it to talk to Lana. She'd have to talk to her. They'd been under the same roof. She had to know if something was wrong with him. Whether it was a new kind of kryptonite or whether this change was... permanent. Either way, she had to get that shield. She didn't want it in the wrong hands. And she wasn't sure Clark's were the right ones at the moment.
CHAPTER TWO
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