Perry spent the morning alternating between on-line direction and phone calls to his various subordinates. Satisfied finally, he logged off, stretched, and decided to go back outdoors. He stepped outside, noticing the day had turned warm and the sun was much brighter. He went back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Motion at the corner of his eye drew his attention. Perry almost slopped his coffee at the sight of Clark, who was absolutely filthy.
"What happened to you?" Perry blurted out.
"In a minute," Clark said. He moved over to a rack on the wall which contained numerous hooks supporting numerous keys. Only then did Perry notice that the taller man was floating.
"Didn't want to get the floor dirty," Clark said, correctly interpreting Perry's questioning gaze. Clark took a key set off its hook and went back outdoors.
"Richard!" Clark called. Perry saw him throw the keys. "Take the truck! Don't get your car dirty!" Perry didn't hear Richard respond, but he did hear the farm truck firing up and heading down the driveway. Clark came back into the kitchen, still (as Perry noted with amusement) floating and avoiding contact with floor or walls.
"Let me get cleaned up first," Clark said, and zipped upstairs. Perry raised his eyebrows, and poured himself another cup of coffee. Clark came downstairs, toweling his hair dry, now clean.
"I didn't think repairing a fence line was, uh, that demanding of a job," Perry began. His reportorial curiosity flared again.
"Not usually," Clark agreed, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting at the kitchen table with Perry. "Did you finish your Planet work?"
Perry fixed him with a gimlet eye. "Stop changing the subject, Clark. Tell me what happened."
Clark sighed. "Well, it was a little awkward at first."
Perry had to agree. Suddenly you're put in close proximity with a co-worker – no problem. Except that you just discovered said co-worker has a secret identity as superhero, alien, world savior, and celebrity. And, not only that, he's your fiancee's ex-lover, and the father of who you thought was your son. Yeah, that might be awkward.
Clark stared into his coffee. "My mother, you know, had maneuvered us into doing this job. I guess she figured that we had to talk, but there was no reason not to do farm chores at the same time." He laughed. "And I've been meaning to fix that fence line for awhile anyway. It's right on the road, so I can't…."
Speed through the job, or pound in the posts without a hammer, Perry mentally completed. There might be witnesses on the road.
Clark went on. "So, I had the tools for the job all ready, and we set off…" Perry could almost see what Clark described.
*****************
"It's just a short distance down that way," Clark said, pointing. "I'll take the cart."
They walked in silence. Soon they came to the area of the fence that needed repair. The county road on the other side of the fence was higher than the low-lying Kent Farm ground, which sloped into a small pond. With last night's rain, the ground at the fence line was actually somewhat soft and mucky.
Trucks carrying gravel rumbled by at frequent intervals. Richard gave a short exclamation of annoyance when the breeze picked up and blew a few pebbles off a passing truck into his face.
"The quarry must be working today," Clark said, to make conversation. "They don't work it every day, but when they do, they run trucks every fifteen to thirty minutes." He grimaced. "The trucks are supposed to cover their loads with tarps, but sometimes they don't."
Richard nodded.
Another truck passed by, on the heels of the first. Another shower of gravel followed. "Looks like the breeze we're getting today is going to rain pebbles on us," Clark said, trying to make light of it. "From every truck."
Clark set the cart a fair distance back from the fence line, chocking a wheel with a small rock to be sure the cart didn't roll into the nearby muddy edge of the pond. He squinted at the fence.
"We've got to replace ten posts," he said. "I can pull out the old ones." Diffidently he asked Richard, "Is your arm still bothering you?"
Richard's eyes whipped up and met Clark's at the reminder of the whole episode where he was shot. "A bit," Richard said cautiously, rubbing his left arm in an absent gesture Clark had seen before. He refrained from retorting with something like, At least I didn't get killed. Clark was grateful for that.
"I'll hammer in the new posts, if you'll just hold them steady," Clark offered.
"All right," Richard agreed cautiously.
**********************
"It was a little awkward at first," Clark said to Perry. "But, after a while, Richard actually started talking to me."
Perry snorted.
Clark looked at him in surprise.
"You think I haven't noticed that Richard hasn't really talked to you since that night?" Perry retorted.
Clark sighed, took off his glasses, and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I know. Perry, that's one of the reasons – a big reason – why I maintain two separate identities. It's the Look."
Perry could hear the capitalization.
"Yeah, it's nice having the powers, and all that, but being looked at like a freak by everyone I meet is not so appealing," Clark said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "So Clark Kent is a regular guy and I let Superman get The Look. You've seen it." He replaced the glasses.
He had, Perry realized.
"Actually, Perry, that's how I knew you'd found me out – the way you looked at me in the newsroom for two days before you hauled me to the diner for a one-on-one."
"I thought I was being subtle about it," Perry said defensively.
"You were pretty good," Clark allowed. "But, after that, you've never treated me any differently." The warmth in his tone irrationally lifted Perry's spirits.
"I won't unless you stop bringing in the stories," Perry teased.
Clark chuckled. Then, more seriously, he said, "Richard….Richard, he didn't have any time to prepare. It was a big shock to him. And, you know how I turned off the masking technology for you?"
Perry nodded.
"I never did that for Richard. Part of how that Kryptonian technology works, is that it heightens the ludicrous factor." Clark shuffled his feet. "That's the best way I can describe it."
"The ludicrous factor?"
"Yes. The part where you say, 'Clark Kent and Superman sure look a lot alike', and then you think about it for a minute, and then you say, 'Nah. That's ludicrous.'"
Perry couldn't help laughing. Then he sobered. "So that's still on for Richard?"
"Yes. So, every morning, he wakes up, and Superman and Clark Kent are two different people. But, just like in the newspapers, the truth is an absolute defense. For libel, in the case of the Daily Planet. And for overriding the Kryptonian mind-whammy, and knowing that Clark Kent is Superman, in Richard's case."
"The truth has a lot of power," Perry mused.
"Yes," Clark replied seriously. "When I showed Richard the truth – showed him who I was – that truth was enough to override all the masking technology. He can't un-know it."
"He could forget, though, if you wanted him to?" Perry probed.
"I'm not doing that again," Clark said shortly. He stared off into space for a moment. "So, we were working together, and I'd pulled out the rotting fence posts. I was hammering in a new post while Richard held it straight, and he started asking about how it was that Lois had forgotten. And it got ugly…."
*************************
"So, explain this to me again," Richard said, in a deadly even tone. "You've got the power to make everyone think that you and Superman are two different people?"
"Well, it's not innate," Clark said, uncomfortable. "It's actually Kryptonian technology. Not part of my powers."
Richard dismissed that. "And," he said quietly but intensely, "you have the power to erase people's memories?"
A truck from the quarry rumbled by, and a larger spray of gravel rained over the two men. Intent, they ignored it.
Clark thought about dressing it up, or downplaying it. No, it was time to be honest. "Yes." One word, baldly spoken.
Richard advanced closer, almost hissing his words. "And you did that to Lois, the woman you say you love? You left her pregnant, and then you took away her memory and went away for five years?"
Clark squirmed. He couldn't defend his actions. They were unforgivable. "Yes."
"I can't believe you!" Richard said, throwing up his arms and then wincing as he stretched the scar tissue at the bullet wound. "You've got the propaganda machine working full tilt, don't you, Mr. 'Truth and Justice'?" His eyes narrowed. "I bet you're going to do it to me, too, aren't you?" He ignored Clark's head-shake. "That would sure make your life a lot easier, wouldn't it? You take Jason and Lois and I won't even know why!" He looked in disgust at Clark. "You're no better than Lex Luthor. You're just like him."
The flat word stung. "I am not!" Clark said, driven into a kindergarten-level response. He wanted to advance on Richard, shake the man. He restrained himself, knowing his size intimidated people even in his Clark Kent persona. "I am not," he repeated desperately. He wasn't, was he? Sure, he'd done some things he wasn't proud of, especially lately, but….
He felt tongue-tied, all his facile explanations and late-at-night rehearsed statements deserting him. All he seemed able to do was deny the accusation. "I am not like Lex Luthor."
Richard's reply was lost in the rumble of another gravel truck passing by. The steady breeze blew its usual shower of pebbles over them.
Clark felt the pain before he saw it. The glowing green rocks. Kryptonite. If the truck had carried a lot, it had driven away too quickly for Clark to notice. But now, even these tiny pebbles – in their numbers – had the power to bring him to his knees. He and his parents had cleared the farm of Kryptonite years ago. But what does it matter, he thought, when fate throws more at me?
He staggered away from the rocks, heading toward Richard. The familiar nausea cramped his gut. His muscles turned to water. With slow inevitability, he began to collapse, reaching for Richard as he did so. If Richard would support him, he could get far enough away….He saw Richard's face react in alarm as he staggered to the other man, grabbing at Richard's legs as he fell.
Richard pushed back at him, but Clark's heavy mass knocked them both down, into the mud, Richard underneath Clark. Richard frantically pushed at Clark, thinking he was being attacked. He squirmed out from under Clark's rapidly weakening form, leaving them both well-covered with mud.
"Please…" Clark murmured. The pain was growing ever more intense.
Richard drew in a deep breath to still his gasps. He rubbed his sore arm and looked at Clark curiously – if this was a fight, Clark wasn't taking advantage.
"Please…" Clark murmured again. Don't leave me. Don't leave me here to die.
"What?" Richard asked.
"Kryptonite," Clark managed to squeeze out.
Richard's eyes widened. He took a moment to scan the area. The tiny pebbles glowed their evil green.
Without a pause, Richard bent to gather up the toxic meteor rocks. His hands were full as he neared Clark, and Clark groaned louder as the pain worsened. Richard figured out what was happening, and backed away. He looked at the pebbles and then threw them as hard as he could into the fields, well away from Clark. He found more of the green pebbles, and scooped up as many as he could find, throwing them all as far as he could.
Clark's pain lessened as Richard carefully cleared the area. Soon he was able to sit up. He pointed out several small pebbles that Richard had missed, alerted to their presence by his own built-in detector.
Finally, he just sat there, mud-covered, still a little weak. Richard squatted down, looked him in the eye.
"You all right?"
Clark could only give an exhausted, crazy laugh. He returned Richard's direct gaze and took a deep breath. "You know, you're not like Lex Luthor either."
He laughed harder at the surprise in Richard's face.
