Sorry it's taken so long, but I'd forgotten how much work a 4 month old baby is! Anyway, I finally managed to squeeze out a little time to write the next part. Sorry it's not longer, but I'm doing my best.
Twins: 19/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Clark glanced at his watch. Nine-thirty. The ballet wouldn't be over for another hour at the very least.
He pulled on a T-shirt and picked up a pair of tennis shoes. He and Brian had some time to kill. As he started toward the living area again, his gaze fell on the lead box. What would Luthor be keeping in a lead box? Something, obviously, that he didn't want Superman to see; something small, but important. Well, the easiest way to find out was to open it. He'd intended to do so when he got home, but events of various sorts had interfered. He picked up the box and unfastened the catch.
**********
And now, Part 19:
Lois Lane leaned forward in her seat, her attention to all appearances riveted on the dancers flitting about the stage. Don Quixote, Lex had informed her, was one of his favorites.
Beside her, Lex Luthor, urbane businessman and criminal billionaire, relaxed in his seat, an amused little smile playing on his lips. The music swelled as the dance reached its finale and Don Quixote and his loyal sidekick retreated from the stage. Lois wasn't particularly interested in the performance, but it gave her an excuse to remain silent while her mind was elsewhere -- to be specific, it was back at the penthouse with Clark. Had he managed to get the lock of hair? Had he been caught? True, he was Superman, but even he was a pawn of the great god Murphy. Anything could have happened to him. If one of Lex's servants at the penthouse walked in on him, their cover was blown. How was she going to survive until this interminable production was over?
If the circumstances had been different, she would have undoubtedly enjoyed the music and the performance of the talented dancers very much indeed, but right now she just couldn't concentrate. Still, keeping her eyes fixed on the stage gave her a good excuse to keep their conversation to a minimum. Lex undoubtedly thought that he had provided her with a high treat.
The curtains rolled closed, and the lights came up. It was the intermission, and Lois straightened up with a small sigh. "That was beautiful," she said.
Lex nodded, still smiling. "The entire performance is such a comment on man's inhumanity to man, I think," he said. "And yet, a statement of how nobility survives in spite of it."
Lois nodded, not trying to sort out the complexities of the story. She checked the time under the pretext of adjusting her watchband. She had been here for over an hour but it seemed like three.
"Is something wrong?" Lex asked. "You seem to be preoccupied with your watch. I trust I'm not boring you."
"Of course not," Lois said. The last thing she needed was for Lex to realize that she wanted out of this date as quickly as possible. "I think there must be something wrong with the band. It was pinching my wrist and I can't seem to get it adjusted right." She slid a finger under the links and then removed the watch from her wrist. "I think I'll just put it in my purse and see about replacing the band tomorrow. There's no point in letting it ruin my evening."
Lex nodded. "Very wise of you. One should never let one's enjoyment be spoiled by trivialities."
Lois smiled and nodded. "After all, how often do I get a treat like this?"
"Perhaps more often than you might imagine," Luthor said. He glanced around the velvet and satin theater, at the well-dressed patrons of the ballet whose chatter filled the big room to almost deafening levels, and got to his feet. "Shall we stretch our legs for a few moments?"
Lois rose obediently and followed him out of the private box.
By the time they got to the main floor of the place, a number of the other patrons of the ballet had apparently been seized by the same desire. The aisles were crowded with men and women in formal dress, many of them making for the restrooms, she thought, noticing the number of persons leaving the room.
Lex seemed to take great pride exhibiting her on his arm as he circulated around the room, occasionally greeting some acquaintance, or stopping to exchange a word with some high-ranking official in the city government. Lois smiled until she was sure her face was going to crack, aware that she was being observed by a number of envious women. The reporters for the social columns of several of Metropolis's newspapers were also there, and she saw Cat Grant raise an eyebrow at her and smile mockingly, but Lois pretended that she hadn't noticed.
Eventually, they made their way back to Luthor's box and Lois resumed her seat.
"The next act should begin momentarily," Lex said. He took his place next to her and smiled charmingly. "You put them all to shame, you know, Lois." He inclined his head at the crowd below them, where the various patrons of the ballet were slowly returning to their seats. "When I see you beside the altogether unremarkable, and certainly overdressed, women like the ones who are here tonight, I'm always astonished at your beauty and poise. You are worthy of so much more than a position as a reporter at a newspaper, no matter how outstanding that paper may be." He brushed at a non-existent mote of dust on his tailored sleeve. "Later tonight, I have a question for you. You must know that I have rarely enjoyed the company of any woman more than I have yours. I've been thinking lately of possibly taking our relationship to a more ..." He broke off as the lights dimmed and the curtains began to roll open. The gabble of voices slowly died. "Well," he said, "it can wait for a better moment."
Lois leaned forward, her scalp prickling with alarm, and fixed her eyes again on the stage, wondering how she could possibly escape the question that she strongly suspected he was going to ask. She'd better think of something, she thought, grimly. Suddenly the time left to the performance seemed all too short, and when it was over she would have to have an answer for him. What on Earth was she going to do now?
**********
Clark paused with his hand on the lid of the lead box as Brian stepped into the bedroom. His twin was holding an empty bag that had contained potato chips. "Are there any more snacks?" he inquired, wistfully. "I can't find anything more to eat."
Clark set down the box. "I think you've finished mostly everything. Do you like pizza?"
"Yes. What is it?"
"Never mind. I'll phone for some. Do you like pepperoni?"
Brian nodded vigorously. Clark picked up the phone.
Fortunately, he had the number of the nearest pizza place on speed dial, due to the fact that he and Lois often worked late here, and sometimes they would watch a video in his apartment after work was over for the day. As a matter of fact, he had several take-out places on speed dial, since they didn't always feel like having pizza.
Clark punched the combination for Antonio's Pizza Grotto into the phone and waited while it rang. At last the harried voice of one of the employees answered.
"Antonio's Pizza. Can you hold?"
"Sure," Clark said, as the employee on the other end punched the "hold" button.
He waited. After at least three minutes had passed, the phone clicked. "Sorry to keep you waiting," the voice said. "May I have your address?"
Clark gave it. There was a pause and then the voice said, "Clark Kent, right?"
"That's right," Clark said.
"And what would you like to order this evening?"
Clark ordered three extra-large pepperoni and sausage pizzas with extra cheese, two orders of cheesy breadsticks and a couple of two-liter sodas, a meal that Lois would have characterized as "cholesterol on a crust".
"Will this be pickup or delivery?" the voice asked politely.
"Pickup," Clark said, reflecting that it would help keep Brian busy for a few more minutes. The employee at the other end told him it would be ready in fifteen minutes and hung up.
Brian had gone back to watching the Cartoon Channel. Clark glanced at the lead box but decided to put off opening it until Brian was occupied with the food.
"Brian," he said, stepping into the living area.
His brother looked around. "What?"
"I'm going over to pick up the food in a few minutes. Would you like to come with me to help carry it?"
Brian nodded eagerly. "Are we flying?"
"Yes, but we're going to go out the back window and we're going to make sure no one sees us, all right?"
"All right," Brian agreed. "I guess you don't want my fa -- Luthor, that is -- to know that we're friends now. That's all right, because I don't want him to know it, either."
"That's right," Clark said. He glanced at his watch. "We'll go in about fifteen minutes."
"All right," Brian agreed happily.
A short time later when they arrived at the pizza parlor, they landed in the alley behind it, and Clark led the way in, Brian following behind him like an eager puppy. The young woman behind the counter looked at them curiously as Clark stepped up to the register. "Hi Patty. Is my dinner ready yet?"
Patty was a familiar face; a pretty college student from New Troy State, who worked here in the evenings to earn extra money while going to school. She smiled brightly at him. "Hi, Mr. Kent. Your order is coming out right now." She looked past him to Brian, and her eyes widened slightly. "I didn't know you had a twin!"
Clark nodded. "This is my brother, Brian. He's visiting for a few days."
Patty smiled at Brian. "Welcome to Metropolis -- or have you been here, before?"
"Uh ... just for a little while," Brian said.
"Well, I hope you get to see all the night spots," Patty said. She set three pizza boxes, another with the breadsticks, and a pair of soda bottles on the counter. "That'll be twenty-nine-fifty, Mr. Kent."
Clark paid the bill and he and Brian divided the boxes between them. Patty bade them a cheerful goodbye, and together they left the establishment.
The flight to Clark's apartment was accomplished with no mishaps, and a few seconds later, they were opening their dinner in the living room.
Brian inhaled the aroma of the pizza ecstatically. "This smells *good*!" he told Clark. "Uncle Fabian told me I didn't need to eat, but I *like* eating!"
"So do I," Clark said. "Help yourself. You dip the breadsticks in the marinara sauce like this." He proceeded to demonstrate. "Go ahead. I'll get the glasses for the soda."
"Okay," Brian agreed, a breadstick dripping with cheese in one hand and a king-sized wedge of pizza in the other.
It took the two of them less than fifteen minutes to finish the pizza and breadsticks. Clark ate slowly, watching with amusement as Brian polished off two and a half extra-large pizzas and the lion's share of the breadsticks. He was drinking the last of his bottle of soda when Clark took the remote control and switched the channel over to a college baseball game.
"What's that?" Brian asked.
"It's called baseball," Clark said. "It's a game."
Brian leaned forward, watching the men on the screen, instantly fascinated by the actions of the players. "What are they doing?" he asked.
Clark explained the basics of baseball to his brother. Brian seemed to catch on quickly, which wasn't surprising, considering how fast he learned.
He was still riveted to the game while Clark cleaned up the debris from their meal. Brian's appetite appeared to have been satisfied for the moment, to Clark's relief, and while his guest sat on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, and completely engrossed in the play, Clark did a quick clean-up of the living area and the kitchen, then retreated to his bedroom.
The lead box still sat on the nightstand where he had left it, and he picked it up. A quick glance at the clock told him that the ballet would probably be over soon. Hopefully Lois would call him once she got to her apartment, but that might be a while yet. He turned the box over and shook it gently. Something inside clunked dully against the metal. Well, there was no reason to put it off any longer. He opened the lid.
**********
Lois was still frantically trying to think of some way to avoid the question that she was certain Lex was going to ask her when they left the elegant theater. Paparazzi lined the exit, and Lois put up a hand to shield her face from the light of a dozen flashbulbs as she emerged on Lex's arm.
Lex, of course, was smiling urbanely at the photographers as he continued to make his leisurely way toward the limousine that had just pulled up at the curb. The uniformed chauffeur leaped out of the driver's seat and ran around to open the rear door for them, and Lex stood back to let Lois enter first.
There was a swoosh of air, and an instant's disorientation, and Lois found herself clasped tightly in Superman's arms, shooting upward so fast that the blast of wind in her face took her breath away.
Wait, that wasn't right. When she flew in Superman's arms, she usually didn't feel more than a gentle breeze.
She twisted her head to look at the man who carried her and knew at once that this wasn't Clark. It was Brian.
"Brian, what are you doing?" she demanded, a little annoyed. "Take me back!"
"I can't." Brian's voice was taut and frightened. She had the feeling that it was taking every ounce of his self-control to prevent it from shaking. "Clark needs you to help him. He told me to get you. I think he's dying."
"What?" The wind whistling past her ears made it hard to understand, and for a moment it crossed her mind that Brian's flight seemed unsteady. Heaven help her if he lost his grip on her in mid-air! "What's the matter?"
Brian came in to a rough landing on the sidewalk in front of Clark's apartment and set her on her feet.
"I can't go in. It hurts to get too close," Brian said. "Clark said you could help him. Hurry! He's in the bedroom."
Lois stared at him for several seconds, then she made up her mind. This whole thing was completely confusing, but the important part seemed to be that Clark needed her, and had sent Brian to get her. "Okay, stay here."
"Hurry!" Brian said.
Lois turned and ran up the stairs.
**********
tbc
