DISCLAIMER: I claim none of the characters. They are all DC's; a good majority of the characters are from the Superman comics, but there are a few of them from the Supergirl comic series. In short, they're not mine; I'm just borrowing them. I'll return them, I promise!
- - - -
Jimmy had arrived at his apartment after leaving LexCorp hours ago and barely made it to his bathroom where he promptly threw up. After washing his face and brushing his teeth he wandered back into the living room and automatically checked his answering machine. He had one message; he had hoped that it would be Linda calling, but it was from Perry, asking him to give Lois and Clark a call at their hotel in Australia as soon as possible. He did, putting on the best ‘I’m okay, nothing’s wrong’ voice so Lois wouldn’t ask him about it - though part of him wanted her to ask about it; the other half wanted to just hang up on her if she did. The conversation was short: she asked if he could get some stuff done, he said he would, they said goodbye, and hung up. He didn’t really want to help them, partially because he was mad at them and partially because getting the information would require thinking about Lex - and that was the last person he wanted to think of at the moment. Sighing, the young man glanced around his apartment.
His furniture was from many secondhand stores, so it wasn’t only mismatched but not exactly in the best condition. His couch had tears in it and was the color of Shredded Wheat. His coffee table was nice, but it had so many nicks and scratches in it that the TV Guide and some old magazines couldn’t hide them. His end table didn’t match the coffee table in style or color, but it was also scratched and nicked. His answering machine and phone - both inexpensive and previously used - were on top. An old floor lamp was beside the end table. It was also covered in scratches, and the shade was torn in a few spots. And the easy chair he was sitting in was a soft Wedgewood blue and had a few worn spots on it.
His ‘accessories’ were relics from his childhood: a worn, old bookshelf was stacked with magazines and comic books on the lower shelves and his action figure and accessories collection taking up the top two rows - including his most prized possession: a collector's issue GI Joe doll in original fatigues. A sword in its sheath from his high school D&D days, with a dark brown cloak draped over it, was propped up in a corner near the living room window. A small desk with a laptop, printer, a scanner, and stacks of unorganized papers was pushed into the opposite corner. His television and VCR were propped up on top of some plastic stacking boxes, and his movie collection and Super NES system were sitting underneath. Framed pictures of Ultrawoman and Supergirl, along with some of his other works, were hung up on the walls, along with a Superman wall clock.
His kitchen was small and cluttered, with a couple of dishes drying in a rack in the sink and a few papers and some takeout cartons he had forgotten to toss out on the counters. His floor needed a quick sweeping and mopping, and his refrigerator had some food it in that he needed to throw out, but all in all, everything was somewhat neat, though far from being immaculate.
His bedroom was another story. His single bed was pushed against the far corner, and it was in fairly good condition, but he never made it, so the gray sheets and comforter and pillows were all in a jumbled heap when he wasn’t sleeping in it. A small nightstand was beside the bed, cluttered with an alarm clock, a lamp, a paperback copy of ‘The Lord of the Rings,’ and a framed photo of Linda and himself together, taken a couple weeks ago in Centennial Park. His dresser was on the other side of the nightstand, covered with clean, unfolded clothes, papers, magazines, and a radio. His dirty clothes were piled up and pushed into the far corner of the room, waiting to be taken down to the laundry mat. More photos of his works were framed and hung on the walls. Overall, the room was cluttered and sloppy, and he wasn’t even going to *think* about the condition of his bathroom; just the thought made him squirm.
“No wonder she’s dating him,” Jimmy muttered. “I bet *his* place doesn’t look like a college kid’s dorm.” He glanced down at his clothes. “He certainly doesn’t *dress* like a college kid either.”
He got up and went over to his tape collection, picking a movie he hoped would take his mind off his problems. He popped in a tape, grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and plopped back into his chair. He sighed as the credits to "2001: A Space Odyssey" began to roll. He had hoped his favorite movie to distract him, however all he could think of through the film was how Linda would really enjoy seeing it. Kind of didn't work when your plan of distraction only made you think of the subject you were avoiding even more.
"I should just go to bed," he muttered to himself. Of course, there was little chance he'd really be able to sleep knowing that Linda was out with a potential member of the Luthor line. If this heir was legit and had even half of his father's charm, Jimmy was in big trouble. Sure, Linda thought he was cute and all . . . but Luthor had success and money and charisma out the wazoo. What did Jimmy have? From the way he decorated his hole in the wall, not to mention how he dressed . . . not a whole lot in comparison.
Walking to the kitchen for a glass of water, he passed the bookshelf, stopped, and glanced at the GI Joe doll. It was the prize piece to his collection of almost one hundred action figures and accessories. Standing there, so proud, Jimmy was sure Joe never had trouble with women. Debating the merits of asking the doll for dating advice, Jimmy was startled by a knock at the apartment door. Someone's pizza delivery got the wrong door, he thought as he didn't bother to check the peephole before opening the door. The site of three large men in Armani suits was certainly a surprise.
The largest of the three, a burly blond with a bad crew cut, looked down at him. "Are you James Olsen?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm James Olsen." He looked between the three and gulped audibly. "You're not delivering pizzas are you?" Rather than answer verbally, the burly blond grabbed a hold of the front of Jimmy's shirt and pushed him back into the apartment. The blond’s companions, a stocky redhead and taller man with green-dyed hair, closed the door behind them.
"So, uh, what can I help you fellas with?" Jimmy asked, finding it difficult to speak, or breath, around Blond's fist.
"We don't need help, Mr. Olsen. But you might." Red answered, taking a look around the apartment and sneering. "And I don't just mean with your decorating tastes."
"Hey -" Jimmy protested. The brutes ignored him.
"Who gets first punch?" Green Giant asked. "You got it last time. I think it's my turn."
Red gave Jimmy an appraising look. "I don't know. He's kind of scrawny. I think you'll only need the first punch."
While the three debated who would be the first to pummel him, Jimmy forced himself to hang limp in Blond’s grip. As soon as the blond man relaxed his hold on him, Jimmy kicked out and connected solidly with his stomach.
With a great "oof" as he air was forced out of his lungs, Blond doubled over and dropped Jimmy. Red and Green Giant were on him in seconds and, as they lunged, Jimmy skirted out of the way so they tackled each other.
"Hold still." Green Giant commanded, shoving his partner aside as he chased Jimmy around the couch.
Jimmy dove behind the couch and, bracing himself against the wall, kicked it to knock all three men down. He heard grunts as his assailants went down, but he didn't allow himself the luxury of gloating. Peaking his head above the back of the couch, he ducked just in time as the object BB launched at his head - his prized GI Joe action figure - sailed above him and out the window.
"Yikes," Jimmy muttered, scurrying from behind the couch as the three came over it to grab him.
- - - -
Supergirl was flying over the skies of Metropolis, anxious to get back to her apartment to get cleaned, when her superhearing picked up the sounds of a window breaking and fighting. She looked down, using her telescopic vision to focus in, and saw the fight was coming from Jimmy’s place - three guys were in his apartment trying to catch him. The dirt and grime and her resentment towards Jimmy vanished as she narrowed her eyes and dove down into the city.
- - - -
Jimmy swallowed hard as he backed into one of the corners of his living room, the three goons slowly advancing on him. He closed his eyes and tensed as they pulled back their fists, waiting for the painful blows. He held his breath. There was the sound of something breaking, like glass, then the sounds of scuffling, and loud ‘oofs.’ Realizing that they were not his own, nor was he being hit, he slowly opened his eyes. What he saw before him made his jaw drop.
All three of the goons were laying in a heap on the floor, unconscious. His living room window was broken, the cold air blowing in. And Supergirl was standing near the window, covered in dried mud, brushing her hands, glaring down at the unconscious trio.
“You picked the *wrong* night to mess with one of my friends,” she said to the goons. She looked up, her expression softening. “You okay, Jimmy?”
Jimmy was startled to see how worn out she looked below her concern; it was the first time he’d ever seen her that haggard . . . and dirty. He almost didn’t recognize her under all that grime, but he knew it was her. He slowly straightened up and let out a breath of relief. “Yeah,” he replied, glancing at the goons to make sure they were knocked out. “Yeah, I’m - I’m fine . . . thanks.”
Supergirl looked at the goons on the floor at her feet. They already had bruises forming on their heads where she had tapped them, knocking them unconscious instantly. She knew by the extent of their bruising that she had hit them - hard - but she didn’t feel the least bit remorseful; they had come after her boyfr - her fri - they had come after Jimmy, and that was unacceptable. She glanced back over at Jimmy and saw him shaking a bit, his face pale. She walked over to him and gently grabbed his forearms.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Jimmy replied slowly. “I’m . . . good.”
Supergirl gave him a look that clearly said she did not believe him. She gently guided him to his easy chair and made him sit in it. Then she hurried into the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water for him in less than two seconds. “Here, drink this,” she said softly.
“Thanks,” Jimmy replied, taking the offered glass.
The shaking had stopped after taking a few sips, but Supergirl could tell he was still a little pale. She didn’t want to leave him alone, but there was something else she had to take care of. She glanced over at the unconscious goons. “Any reason why these guys wanted to break in here and beat you up?”
“Not a clue,” Jimmy mumbled.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Well,” Supergirl finally said, “I guess I’ll get these guys down to the police.” She studied the pile carefully then sighed. It would be so much easier if they were tied up. She turned to Jimmy. “You don’t happen to have anything I could use to tie them up with, do you? A rope or something?”
Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows as he lowered his eyes, thinking. After a few moments, he set his glass on the end table and got up. He walked into his bedroom and came out a few moments later with three business ties. Supergirl recognized them immediately but she didn’t say anything as he silently handed them to her and watched as she quickly tied the trio up. Silently, she picked up the goons without any trouble and turned to Jimmy.
“I’ll be back to help you clean up,” she said before leaping out the window and flying away. Jimmy stared at the window for a few moments, then seemed to shake himself out of the daze and went to the kitchen to grab his broom and dustpan, and he had barely stepped back into the living room when there was a whooshing sound, and Supergirl was standing just inside, holding the GI Joe action figure - or what was left of it. The torso and legs were in her right hand, and the arms and head were in her left hand.
“I, uh, I found this on the sidewalk,” she said softly. She looked apologetic as she held out the pieces. “I’m sorry your doll got wrecked.”
“Actually, it’s an action figure,” Jimmy replied as he set the broom and dustpan on the couch. He took the pieces from Supergirl and put them on the kitchen counter before coming back into the living room and grabbing his cleaning items. “And you have nothing to apologize for, Supergirl; it’s just a dumb thing, anyway.” He silently started sweeping up the glass.
Supergirl watched him for a few minutes, and it was all she could do to keep her composure. She felt awful that something had almost happened to him, because she almost wasn’t in the city, because she had been selfish in pushing him away earlier and going out with Lex, just to get a reaction out of him. She opened her mouth to apologize to him, but she stopped herself in time; she couldn’t say anything without revealing who she was, and that was not an option.
“Well, it looks as though you’ve got everything under control,” she said softly. “I don’t think you need me anymore.” She turned to leave via the broken window.
“Linda, wait.”
(End of Chapter 10)
