DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine. This story's villian (er, villianess) was loosely based on a villian in the Animated Series called Live Wire. She is not mine, the characters are not mine - just the story idea is mine. Please don't sue! I'm just a poor college student!
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“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Clark said as Lois picked the lock to Traci’s apartment at Price Towers. Jimmy was standing guard with Clark. The trio had not only gotten the address from a few of the personnel who had worked with Traci, but they managed to get a lot of insight into the woman herself. With no other leads, they figured searching her apartment was the best thing, maybe finding something that could stop her. The lock clicked after a few moments, and Lois turned the knob. The door opened, the reporter flashing a triumphant smile.
“She’s good,” Jimmy said as they all three walked in. They stopped short upon seeing the interior. “Whoa.”
The living room was, in one word, tacky. The furniture was black and red zebra-striped leather, consisting of a couch, loveseat, and reclining chair. A glass coffee table with copies of magazines was in front of the couch, and the loveseat and chair were on either sides. Tall, black, wrought-iron, halogen floor lamps were on either side of the couch, along with two black, ceramic Great Danes. The walls were black, with framed, blown-up photos of Traci from various magazine covers, some by herself, some with other celebrities. A desk was pushed against the wall near the window, a laptop and other papers on it. A black filing cabinet was beside it.
“Someone needs an interior decorator,” Lois replied. “Big time.” She saw a hallway leading to the bedroom on one side, and the three ventured down the hall, noticing the walls were still black and there were more photos of Tracy on either side.
The bedroom was just as tacky as the living room. It contained a water bed with black satin sheets, red and black zebra-striped pillows, and a matching comforter. Two black nightstands were on either side, with black lamps, and a matching dresser drawer was across the bed. A huge photo of Traci was over the bed.
“I think we’ll be better off in the other rooms,” Clark replied. “Not much we’d learn in here anyway.”
“Oh, I think we learned a lot already,” Lois muttered as the trio headed back into the living room. “I’ll take the kitchen.”
“You sure?” he asked, smiling. “You don’t even go in our kitchen.”
Lois smiled. “Funny, farm boy. Just for that you, you get to search her desk and the stuff with Jimmy.” She ventured into the kitchen while the two men walked over to the desk.
“You search the desk,” Clark replied. “And see if you can find anything on her laptop.” While Jimmy busied himself with the laptop, Clark moved to the filing cabinet, using his body to shield himself while he pried open the door silently and started going through her files.
After a few moments, Jimmy glanced up. “So, that was some bedroom, huh?” he said as he typed. "Reminded me of Cat's."
Clark looked up. “And just how do *you* know what Cat’s bedroom looked like?” he asked, slightly annoyed.
“I was dropping something off at her place one time,” Jimmy replied quickly. He put his hands up defensively. “I just saw her room, CK. Nothing happened. Honest.” He went back to his work. “You know, if you’re still mad at Linda, maybe you should just let her move out or something.”
Clark gave him a stern look. “Oh, you want my cousin to have her own place, huh? Away from prying eyes, huh?”
“Actually, I just thought it would get you guys back to where you’re speaking to each other again.” Clark was clearly surprised. “What? You think I’m only interested in getting her away so I can make my move on her?” Clark gave him an expression that clearly said ‘of course.’ The young man looked almost hurt at the accusation from one of closest friends. “I thought you knew me better than that, CK.” He sighed before going back to typing on the laptop, looking hurt and angry.
Clark’s expression softened. “Jimmy,” he said. “I do trust you, and I do know you wouldn’t do anything like that to any girl. I’m just worried about Linda. She’s lived an isolated existence compared to the rest of us, and I just don’t want her to get into anything she doesn’t know how to handle.”
Lois came walking out of the kitchen, looking annoyed. “What is with this woman? I haven’t seen so many black appliances since we went shopping to replace the washer and dryer.” She stopped, noticing Jimmy and Clark. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Clark replied. “Just a little . . . guy talk. Find anything?”
“Nothing of any value,” Lois replied. “You?”
“Just tax records and bill statements,” Clark answered. He turned to Jimmy. “Jimmy?”
Jimmy turned back and started typing again. After a few moments, he shook his head. “Not really. Just the usual stuff. Nothing to indicate what her next move might be.”
“I can tell you her next move. It’s to fry a threesome of snoopy reporters who broke into her apartment.” The three looked toward the door at the sound of the voice and saw Traci standing there, looking very ticked off.
“Actually, it’s just two reporters,” Jimmy replied nervously as he got to his feet. “I’m just a photographer.”
“I don’t care if you’re Eleanor Roosevelt,” Traci snapped as she raised her hands, palms toward the trio. “You’re going to roast.” There was a crackle of energy, but nothing shot from her hands. She glanced at them then swore under her breath. “Have to recharge.” She hurried out of the apartment.
Clark, Lois, and Jimmy followed her, but she managed to get out of the building way ahead of them. She jumped on her motorcycle parked by the curb and roar away as the trio were coming out. They watched her speed off.
“Now what?” Lois asked. Before Clark could make some excuse to go change into Superman, there was a loud whooshing sound, and the trio looked up as Supergirl landed in front of them. “Supergirl, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been looking for Superman,” the heroine replied. “I was at STAR Labs, talking with Dr. Klein. He finished analyzing Traci’s blood, and now we know how she got her power in the first place.”
“How?” Clark asked.
“According to the report Metropolis General sent over with her blood sample,” Supergirl explained, “Traci was wearing two zinc braclets at the time of her electrocution.”
“So?” Jimmy asked.
“Dr. Kein said there was a high concentration of zinc in her bloodstream,” Supergirl replied. “Somehow, when she was struck, the lightning fused the zinc ions from her bracelets into her bloodstream.”
“It made her a living zinc battery,” Clark said. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I was hoping Superman would be here so I could give him this information. I thought he might be looking for her.” She gave Clark a look.
“She was here,” Clark replied. “But she left a few moments ago. Did Dr. Klein say anything about what her power would be like over time? Or how to stop her?”
“Well, he said, like a rechargeable battery, she’s going to need to recharge. He didn’t say anything about how to stop her.”
“She’ll need a huge amount of energy to recharge herself,” Clark replied. He turned to Lois. “She was already nearly drained.”
“She’ll want to get recharged as quickly as possible,” Lois added. “And the only place that has vast stores of readily available electricity is Metropolis Light and Power.”
“I’ll head over there,” Supergirl said.
“Perhaps you should wait for Superman,” Clark said. He gave her a look.
“I understand your concern, Mr. Kent,” Supergirl replied, “and I know Superman doesn’t want me to get into trouble, but I can handle myself.” She gave a small smile. “Besides, unless she starts causing trouble, I won’t do anything until he shows up.” She leapt into the air and flew away.
“I’m going to go contact Superman and let him know what’s going on,” Clark said. “You two flag down a cab and get to Metropolis Light and Power. I’ll catch up.” He started tugging on his tie and he hurried back into the building, leaving Lois and Jimmy out near the curb.
(End of Chapter 8)
