It's Friday again, so let's have a little glimpse into MagiKal's life. Magical AssignmentHoudini whimpered. The setter turned his head, looking up at his master with as much of a murderous gaze as a dog was capable of.
"I know, pal." Clark heaved a sigh. "I don't like this any better than you do."
The dog pulled at his harness and growled his disapproval. Clark's heart went out to him. He knew how much Houdini hated leashes. The guide dog harness he was wearing now had to be so much worse. Houdini hadn't uttered a sound of protest when they'd been living on the streets of the Southside for the past week, but this was testing the limits of his endurance.
"I'm sorry, buddy," Clark whispered. "The other option was leaving you at home. And we both know that could end up in a disaster. Please bear with me, just this once."
He bent down and scratched Houdini's head, then offered him a treat. The setter eyed him as if he was loath to accept the bribe. But after a moment's hesitation, he took the treat and gave in to his fate, temporarily.
Clark got up and checked his appearance in the reflection of a shop window.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea,” Clark muttered.
He set his sunglasses straight and pulled a face at the sight of his borrowed tux. He'd found a connection between 'The Toasters' and Tony Taylor, the sister of the Metro gang's leader Johnny Taylor while he'd roamed the streets as a homeless guy. What on earth was he supposed to accomplish in this penguin dress-up?
<If Tony Taylor really is behind this series of arsons we need proof,> Lois had pointed out. < You're a good looking guy, try to hook up with her.>
A strange expression had flashed across her face, as if something about that idea upset her. But he could have imagined that.
Clark had frowned at her. <Hook up with her?>
<You're a man, she's a woman. Do I need to draw you a diagram?> He hadn't dignified that with an answer. It would have been rather hard to explain why he couldn't possibly "hook up" with anyone. And that he'd insisted on taking Houdini with him had only made things worse. At least they had found a compromise on the dog issue. Though he was certain Houdini would beg to differ when it came to calling his current predicament a solution.
<If you show up with that dog of yours, they'll throw you out before you can even order a drink,> Lois had muttered. <If they think you're blind, they can't argue the presence of Houdini. It's perfect -- assuming you manage to pass for a blind guy. They'll never expect you to be sniffing around. Of course, you'd have a definite disadvantage trying to get the lady's attention. But with the combined charms of Houdini and you, it might work. Or you could just leave the dog at home.> Well, that had been a definite ‘No’. The look Lois had given him still sent shivers down Clark's spine. He was slightly surprised that she hadn't already grilled him about his insistence to have Houdini by his side. But that was only a matter of time. What had he gotten himself into? Everything about this endeavor had disaster written all over it. He was a fool to take any part in it. But since they were trying to save his good name, he didn’t really have a choice.
Clark glanced down at Houdini. "Ready?"
The setter shook himself and let out a whimper that was as close to a resigned sigh as a dog could possibly get. Clark couldn’t help but chuckle softly before he entered the Metro Club. The bar was busy. All tables were occupied. Skimpily dressed waitresses moved through the rows, serving drinks. Lois wasn't among them. A rush of disappointment went through Clark, accompanied by the slight twist of his heart that appeared whenever he thought about her these days.
*Get a grip, Kent,* he chastised himself.
On the stage, a woman sang "Too darn hot." Most of the men among the audience were staring at her, either mesmerized by her voice or just appreciating the view. She couldn't hold a candle to Lois, Clark thought.
Remembering his assignment, he did his best to keep himself from looking around too much. He let Houdini set the pace. The dog proved to be a better actor than he’d expected. The setter dutifully stopped whenever someone came close.
Maybe the poor dog was just wary of so many people. They'd spent most of his life in isolation. Before Clark’s accident Houdini had lived in Smallville. Crowds only occurred during the Corn Festival and maybe during prom nights. If Clark were honest, he’d much rather be at either event than in this bar. His thoughts drifted back to Lois, trying to imagine her at the Corn Festival. Or as his date. It was a pleasant fantasy.
*Just don't go there, Kent.* The time he'd spent with her, brainstorming, eating delicious meals and talking to her was getting to him.
Clark steered Houdini toward the bar as unobtrusively as he could. Then he felt for the chair and sat down, making it a point to look past the bartender, who was standing a bit to his left. Clark bit back the impulse to place an order, realizing that - if he wanted to pass for a blind person - he would have to wait until he was addressed.
“No dogs allowed in here,” the bartender said gruffly.
“He’s my guide dog,” Clark replied, unfazed.
The bartender crossed his arms in front of his chest, flexing his muscles provocatively. When Clark continued to look past him, it seemed to dawn on him that he wouldn’t be able to physically impress his customer unless he touched him. That seemed to give him some pause and he relaxed his stance in obvious irritation.
“I don’t care what he is,” the bartender growled. “I said no dogs in this bar.”
Clark set his jaw. “Unless you want the Metropolis Star to write about your treatment of handicapped people, I suggest you give me whiskey. And make it a double.”
The bartender blanched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. But he refrained from opposing Clark again and poured him the drink.
“Thanks.” Clark gave him a smug smile.
He reached for the glass and took a sip. Where was Lois? He wished he could go looking for her, but that would blow his cover. This wasn't the best part of town and he hated having to leave her alone among the sharks. He'd been keeping an eye on her, but it wasn't the same as working by her side. If only he could secure himself a job as a bartender. But he didn't want to explain why he was mixing his drinks hanging upside down from the ceiling.
The audience applauded as the singer ended her song. Clark could hear a slight commotion as the crew switched the decorations on the stage. He stretched out his hearing and picked up Lois' heartbeat. She seemed okay as far as he could tell, albeit a little excited. His heart twisted. It was almost frightening how quickly he'd become attuned to hearing that sound. And it was getting closer. His own heartrate spiked.
When the orchestra played the first chords of "Down on the Farm", Clark quickly turned down his hearing range. It still hurt a little, but he managed not to flinch. He bent down, pretending to check on Houdini, while he threw a quick glance toward the stage. Lois was among the dancers, wearing a skimpy yellow chicken dress. The sight of her incredibly long legs made Clark's mouth run dry. She was absolutely stunning. He was lost.
Dragging himself away from the sight, Clark placed his empty glass in front of himself. "Another one."
"At that rate you're gonna get drunk real quick," the bartender cautioned him.
Clark chewed on his bottom lip, not sure how to reply to that. He was supposed to attract the attention of Tony Taylor, not moon over a woman he could never even have. What was he doing, confusing his heart like that? It could never be; it was just too dangerous.
She was gorgeous and brilliant and everything he had ever dreamed of. And he was, well, him. It was impossible. But a tiny voice inside him insisted that if anyone could deal with the truth, it was her.
Clark downed the next whiskey and set down the glass. "Another one."
The bartender frowned but said nothing as he poured Clark a third glass.
Clark heaved a sigh before he downed that one as quickly as the first two. Hook up with a lady. That was easier said than done. Houdini had more experience in that department than he did. How was he even going to make her look at him, as a supposedly blind guy no less.
Perhaps he should try causing a scene? But how was that going to help? He was lost, indeed.
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