Chapter 38:
"I don't know, Chief, he sounded legit to me."
"James."
"I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the guy at the docks seemed real adamant that he saw something. He said there was a British guy and a rich-looking dude—"
"Look, I can appreciate your..." Perry clocked Kent's entrance into the room and wordlessly passed him a file off his desk. "Enthusiasm, that's for sure. But enthusiasm doesn't sell papers. Facts. Quotes. Sources. Scandals. Sex. You know these things, Jimmy."
"But, Chief—"
"Until you get me something concrete, you know the drill."
Jimmy sighed and scuffed his feet against the floorboards. "Yes, Chief. Two creams?"
"And don't forget the sugar. Now get."
Clark smirked as the young man shuffled out of the room. "You didn't have to be so harsh on him."
Perry guffawed loudly. "You call that harsh? Boy needs a little knocking around, something to fight against. Good for a growing kid."
Clark's grin widened. "I wish I'd had someone like you around when I was his age."
Perry eyed him curiously. "What about your Pop?"
His blinks took a half second too long, and for a moment Perry thought he saw something unfiltered flicker between the flutters, something painful and angry. Clark crossed one leg over the other guardedly and clasped his hands around a knee. "Hasn't been around for a long time."
Perry chose not to acknowledge that statement, and instead gestured to the file that he handed him earlier. "Third quarter numbers. Sales are up, advertisers are happy, we've been doing a lot of good since you got here."
Clark finally looked down at the file in his lap and took a moment to flip through it, a slow, crooked smile stretching across his face. "Swell. I mean, I wanted to save the paper, but I honestly never expected to have this good a return on my investment."
Perry grinned back and slapped his desk enthusiastically. "Good to hear. I gotta say, it's been great having you working so closely with us throughout this whole transition. The team's really gotten to know you well, gotten to respect you. You've become an honorary reporter of sorts. I appreciate everything you've done here."
Clark snapped the file shut and assumed the same guarded pose he had moments before. The crinkles around his eyes disappeared even though his smile grew brighter. "I appreciate the praise, Perry. So, why do I get the feeling that the other shoe's about to drop?"
Perry took his time with his words. He straightened some pens on his desk, collated some paperwork and stacked it twice sharply against the wood. Somehow Kent's gaze made him feel like he was a small animal that had wandered into the cage of a fierce tiger, and he was very soon to be lunch. Even though, technically speaking, he was the one trying to corner Kent.
"Perry."
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kent, there's no easy way to say this, but look. As much good as you've done here, I think it might be time to take a step back." He didn't risk looking the man in the eye, instead keeping his gaze low and roaming. He knew what he'd see there.
"Step back?"
The words somehow echoed in the space of the office, louder than he'd probably intended. Perry tossed his hands up. "Don't get me wrong, I could always use the help, and it's not anything personal. I just think... You might be becoming a distraction for some of my team. And I can't have that."
"You just said how much of a help I was to your team." Kent spoke in crisp, clear tones.
Perry conceded with a slight nod of his head. "When you're interested."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He snapped back.
He huffed an exasperated sigh and finally looked up to see the shocked and hurt look on Clark Kent's face. "Kent... Let's not beat around the bush. I think it's pretty obvious to everyone what's going on here. And it's not just reporting."
Clark's expression darkened as it clicked for him all of the sudden. "This is about Lois."
"I didn't become the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet just because I can whistle. I know there's something going on between you two."
"Perry, you're being ridiculous. There's nothing going on between—"
"How many times you think I'm gonna watch while you drive her out of my bullpen in tears?"
The man crossed his legs the other direction, squirming nervously, adjusting his glasses. Perry absorbed every gesture, soaking it up like he was sitting across the poker table from Kent. "It's not what it looks like, I swear."
"Yeah," he drawled incredulously, "it never is."
"And even if it was," Clark defended, glancing at the open doorway nervously, "which it's not— you said yourself that you don't like Luthor. So what's the big deal?"
"The big..?" Perry could hardly believe what the young man was saying. He shook his head and barked out a sharp laugh. "Look, I'll admit there's no love lost between Lex and me, but that don't justify any action on your part. Lois is— I love the girl like my own daughter, but she doesn't know what's good for her sometimes."
Clark straightened his jacket as he stood at attention rapidly. "There's nothing going on between me and Lois regardless."
"Yeah, and Frank Sinatra couldn’t pull off a fedora."
The glare he got in return gave Perry goosebumps. "I know you think it's one thing, but trust me when I say it's something else. I can't tell you anything more right now, but when you do find out, you're going to eat some humble pie. Otherwise, I might not be so lenient as to come running back at your first call."
Perry shook his head. "Now, Kent, I didn't mean—"
"No. I know where I'm not welcome."
Perry scrambled to his feet behind the man, who already had one foot out the door. He pulled a corner of his jacket sleeve to stop him. "Hey, I'm not asking you to leave forever. I couldn't possibly— you own the place! I'm just saying…” Perry searched for a phrase to bring down Kent's ire, to show he was still amenable. He swallowed nervously. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Give my girl some breathing room."
Kent's mouth and brow furrowed into an expression of disgust, and he yanked his arm out of his grasp. Perry's mouth gaped for more words, anything to convince him that he was right, but he had to be careful. He just didn't want to see Lois hurting again. But Kent strode across the bullpen and entered the elevator in seconds, and the moment was lost. Perry sighed, scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. This fell apart quicker than he'd anticipated. He ambled slowly back behind his desk, looked around the room at his Frank Sinatra signed print, and sank into his chair with a sigh. He wondered what the old crooner would say about his stance. Was he too harsh? Not harsh enough? He had a hard time gauging things like this. Worse yet, Kent hadn't taken it as lightly as he'd intended.
James poked his head around the corner of the door jamb. "Chief! Got your coffee for you. Everything all right in here?"
"God damn it, Jimmy. You couldn't have brought me this two minutes ago?"
*****LnC*****
Lois felt like she was floating on air and not in a good way as she stepped off the elevator and walked into the Planet's bullpen. Part of it she attributed to her groggy state— it had been a long couple of nights poring over those notes, coming up with a laundry list of crimes and possible connections to Lex. Her head felt too heavy for her neck, and her blinks were taking a second longer than they usually did— a fact she'd been made aware of by a very unpleasant New Troy driver that she'd apparently cut off, mid-blink. She twisted her back to stretch before she set her purse down on her desk, and used it as a covert way to scan the office.
Clark wasn't here yet.
Odd. He'd been beating her into the office more often than not, lately. And here, the one time she actually had something to share with him.
"James," she exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and ground him to a halt. "You seen Kansas today?"
"Who, Clark? Yeah. He came in and talked with Perry for a few minutes, then left in a real hurry. Maybe an hour ago?"
Oddity number two. Lois shooed the gopher off and made her way over to Perry's office and barged in without knocking. "Hey, Perry. You seen Kent around?"
Perry squirmed in his seat before answering her, scratching the back of his neck distractedly. "Uh, yeah, just for a minute or two. He had to run out to some business meeting. I gave him the third quarter numbers this morning."
Lois took a half step out of the office before pausing and turning back. She knew every one of Perry's tells, after many a late night trying to cheat her way around him at poker. And he was definitely lying about something. "Okay. Well, let me know if he comes in later today. I have a lead I want to follow up on and it's not going to chase itself."
"Sure thing, hun. No problem."
She squinted at him curiously, but decided to let it go for now. She could get as much if not more work done without Kent shadowing her around all day. He was sometimes a little unfocused, as the trip to the honeymoon suite had proven... She promptly shut down that train of thought before it had time to leave the station.
"James!" she shouted across the bullpen, grabbing a lot of stares in return. She strode across the bullpen and smacked the guy at the closest desk as she walked past. "What are you looking at, Ralph? Don't you have a wife? Eyes on the computer buddy. James!"
The young man's shoulders slumped as he turned around with a patronizing smile. "Yes, Miss Lane?"
"Shove it, Jimmy. I've got a scent of a story, and mama's hungry. Wanna tag along?" He shifted his weight on his feet, hesitation weighing heavily on his brow. "I could always use someone handy with a camera," she pitched in a sing-song tone.
He rolled his eyes and gave in with a finger wagged in her face. "All right. But if there's another dead body this time will be the last."
She threw an arm around his shoulder and grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "Oh, Jimmy. The best stories always have a dead body. You're in the wrong field if you don't know that."
He groused about it most of the way to the harbor, how it wasn't journalism that was dangerous, it was just her luck. She humored him, mostly trying to keep her focus on the road. She really wished Clark was here instead. Not that she minded Jimmy's presence— sure, he was a bit pretentious and didn't know when to shut up, but he was still a friendly face and a good man in a fight. But she had genuine thoughts she needed to bounce off of Clark, in spite of how awkward things sometimes got between them.
Maybe it was best to keep some distance for a bit, see what she could learn on her own without Kansas' input.
She slammed into a parking space before another car could beat her to it, and grinned. "We're here." She glanced at her temporary cohort and rolled her eyes, snatching her purse up almost violently. "You can pry your fingers off my armrests now. And if I find a single dent or puncture mark in the leather, I'll steal your wallet to have it fixed."
She slammed the door behind her and fished around her bag for her cigarettes. It was too early in the day for Jimmy to be on her bad side. She wasn't that reckless a driver. The spark that lit her cigarette also lit her interest in this case again, and she felt her shoulders ease a bit. She couldn't be expected to put up with the young photographer without nicotine.
James led the way into the restaurant and held the door open for her, redeeming himself by one point as she followed him inside. They weren't waiting long. The boy at the host’s podium tried to tell her smoking wasn’t allowed in there, but she just shook her head. “I’m here for Bobby. The sooner you bring him to me, the sooner I’m out of your hair.”
The pimple-faced teen griped and went to go look for his boss. Lois sneered and shouted after him. “Hey, where’s Batson? He’s got a much better attitude than you!”
Bobby stormed out from the kitchen and popped the rest of his handful of fries in his mouth. "Jesus H. Christ, Lois! How many times I gotta tell ya, you can't smoke in my restaurant."
She smiled around the drug and waited till he got close enough before she puffed a cloud of smoke in his face. "Gets your attention faster, Bobby."
He coughed and waved his hands through the air to dissipate her fumes. "You gonna put that death stick out or are we gonna have to talk outside today?"
Lois wrinkled her nose. "But it's cold outside!"
"Your choice."
She sized up the small restaurant owner, and noted he wasn't inclined to step down, so she sighed. "Fine." He looked relieved for a second, and Lois smiled sweetly. "Outside it is."
He groaned and gestured for her to lead the way. Lois couldn't help the swell of pride at her little victory, and put a skip into her step.
The trio rounded the corner to the alley behind his restaurant. “Where is Will anyway?”
Bobby pulled out a milk crate and gently lowered himself onto it. "Called out sick. Kid never calls out sick, so I cut him a break.” She hummed noncommittally, hoping he was alright in the back of her mind. The sixteen year old was a good, hard worker, and sometimes snuck her extra dessert. She suspected he probably had a little crush. “All right, Lois. Let's make this quick, I've got things to do today."
She shook her thoughts away, turning back to the matter at hand. "I need you to keep your eyes and ears out for me. Anything remotely related to the Boss, no matter how stupid or irrelevant or ridiculous it may be."
Bobby nodded responsively, but his eyes were fixed on some faraway point. "You're really sure you want to dive into this thing, Lo? It might be bigger than you think."
Lois practically growled. "I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Bobby."
Jimmy spun on his heel slack jawed and eyebrows arched. "Wait— you're going after the Boss? As in, runs most the crime in Metropolis, scared the cartels straight, suspected gun runner with a rap sheet longer than all the Gotham City criminals combined— that boss?"
"Shut up, Jimmy."
"Dammit, Lois! You said no more dead bodies!"
She waved his complaint out of the air dismissively and focused her attention back on Bobby. "You in or you out, Bobby?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "In, of course. I'm just saying. You might not like what comes out of this thing, you know?"
Lois froze at his phrasing. Something about it sounded off, like he knew more than he let on. She smashed the butt of her cigarette against the concrete building and turned back to face her favorite snitch with her arms folded. "There something you're not telling me, Bobby?"
The smallish man shook his head adamantly. "Nothing yet. Nothing concrete, anyway."
She took a step closer, hands on her hips. "But you have an idea."
"It's hardly worth mentioning."
"Robert."
He sighed in exasperation and drummed his fingers haphazardly on the milkcrate. "All I know is that there's been some movement, away from the docks. No clue why that's happened all of the sudden."
"And?"
"And," he dragged the word out, giving Lois a pointed glare that seemed to infer she lacked patience, "there's been some whispers going around. About an older British guy wandering around down here looking kind of out of place."
Lois' heart stopped and stuttered back into motion. She looked down at her hands, tried to stop them from shaking, wishing she hadn't put out her cigarette quite yet. That was simultaneously vague and suspicious. Because it could still be a variety of people, and yet there was only one person Lois had in mind for the job, and it stacked up well against the theory she was already building. She stared Bobby down, and could see that his mind was on the same track as hers.
That wasn't comforting.
"That's exactly the story I was trying to pitch to Chief this morning!" Jimmy's voice came across shrilly, and Lois rubbed her ear soothingly. "Some bum left a tip about an old British man and another guy in fancy clothes talking down here a couple of weeks back. Said they were discussing some sort of shipments. But the tipper also started rambling on about aliens and the government reading his thoughts, so Perry said it was a no-go."
Lois absorbed all this information like a sponge, and tried to place things in a logical order. She darted a glance between the two men. "This has to stay between us. Not a word to anyone else, and I'm looking at you Jimmy. Not before we can figure out what's going on here."
"What about Mr. White?" James questioned.
Lois shook her head fiercely, once. "No. Not even Perry. This has to stay off of everyone's radar for now. We'll work on other things too, in the meantime, to keep him off our backs, and work on this case undercover. We'll loop him in when he needs to know."
"What about your boy toy? Dreamy-Mc-Paranoid?"
She turned to Bobby with a glare. "He's not my boytoy. He's a friend. And... I don't know. I'll try and get ahold of him and see if he knows anything. He's more in the loop than Jimmy here."
"Hey!"
"You sure about that, Lois?” Bobby's words were soft with warning. “Guy owns the paper. If you're not telling Perry yet, what makes you think you should tell him?"
Lois bit her lip. She wasn't sure, not really. Except she did know he wouldn't betray her. He'd probably do anything for her, if she asked. It was an empowering and frightening feeling. She adjusted her bag higher up on her shoulder and met Bobby's inquisitive gaze confidently. "I think he'll be a good asset on this case."
