Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling

[stands_for_hope]

[continued from here]

It took a few weeks, but soon enough, the apartment had become an entirely settled little commune between the five of them. Steve's things had arrived as Clint had promised, they'd been installed in the new apartment, and the group had made the changes they'd discussed for everyone's comfort with one addition: with Steve bunking with Jim, the room he'd initially intended to take had become a general office/library/art room for everyone to use when they felt like a bit of time alone. For as silly as the concept sounded, all of them had ended up using the room a time or two and it had definitely kept things peaceful despite the addition of two new people.

Considering that the apartment was home to four superheroes and a world-famous journalist, it was amazing how easily they all fell into a routine. Jim, Lois, and Clark would usually leave for work around the same time and Steve, always an early riser, had taken to making them something to munch for breakfast on the way after he returned from his morning run. Having also gotten a position at the community center (teaching kids art and art history), Steve would leave with Diana an hour or so after that. Everyone filtered back into the apartment at different times and whoever was feeling up to cooking would usually start dinner when they got in. If no one was feeling up cooking, one of the two 'old' men would treat takeout.

Today, however, Jim's site was currently closed for due to an issue with the plumbing contractors and some unfortunate flooding that had occurred overnight. That was why Clark texted Jim and invited him to come visit he and Lois at the Daily Planet offices and go out for lunch together.

Comments

[kolodnoykovki]

He'd been visiting the VA on a basis of once a week anymore, and some things had gotten better while others had gotten a little rocky. Even with Steve in his life, the nightmares hadn't stopped. They'd let up for a while, but then they'd come back even stronger. He'd already had his fears over losing Clark and Lois, but now with the confession between him and Steve, his fears gained a new focus. Worse, his fears now had more fuel to play with.

There was a background of old Brooklyn and an entire war for his nightmares to base themselves on, a more than sturdy foundation to start from, only amplified by the too-vivid memories of himself punching Steve over and over again while the Helicarrier fell around them. It was more than enough for him to wake up, gun in hand, on the edge of screaming.

So he'd told the woman at the VA. She'd gently countered by asking what helped him come out of his nightmares and his flashbacks, and he'd had to think about it. Eventually, he'd told her that it took some kind of physical reminder of reality. She'd nodded and told him she had an idea - but he wasn't sure what it was yet.

No, today all he'd done was show up to work and find the entire bottom floor covered in inches of water and the next floor's floor sagging with its own waterlogged weight. This wasn't the fault of their construction. It was the fault of the plumbing, and he'd taken pictures, sent them to everyone, and had spent a few texts cursing out the plumbing guys.

So he had no problem leaving the site since there was nothing he could do for at least a couple days, and having lunch with his brother and niece always felt like a great idea. He wandered into the building, telling the receptionist he was there to see Clark Kent, and was pointed up to the right floor. Elevators, thankfully, only put him on edge, not completely freaked him out, so he was able to head up easily.

[stands_for_hope]

When the doors opened to the offices of the Daily Planet, he was met immediately by a flurry of activity and busy office workers huddled over their desks. One woman, dressed somewhat provocatively for an office, made her way over immediately. She wasn't old or young, really, or if she was, the makeup made it harder to tell either way; the heavy application was either to make her seem more wordly or to cover up the years. She preened a little and gave him a bright smile before tipping her head towards the office in general.

"Hey handsome," she greeted him, "what brings you up here? I don't see a sandwich or a package so you're not a delivery..."

[kolodnoykovki]

He'd stepped out, not expecting to be met - but when he was, well...

"No, miss, not quite a delivery" he said with a head dip and smile, knowing well how to flatter a woman who dressed like that and wore that much makeup. "I've got a friend up here somewhere; he texted me while I was at the VA, asked me to meet him for lunch."

Partially a lie, but only partially. He hadn't been at the VA today.

"Maybe you can point me to his desk. His name's Clark?"

[stands_for_hope]

Her expression went a little disbelieving when he mentioned the name.

"Clark? You're looking for Clark Kent?"

She chuckled a little and shrugged, as if to say that the world was a funny place and who was she to question it. Then she leaned over and looked towards his desk, then another desk, and finally towards the office at the back with a frown.

"Don't see him. Maybe he left without you."

She smiled at him, lips very red.

"I wouldn't mind getting lunch with you if you're still hungry, though."

[kolodnoykovki]

"I appreciate the offer, but Clark's a real good friend and we had some things to discuss," he assured gently, still smiling even if he added a little weight to a few of his words. "I don't think he would've left without me. If you point me to his desk, I'll wait for 'im."

[stands_for_hope]

She looked a little disappointed before sighing and pointing, but the other hand was held out to him in a greeting.

"Cat Grant," she said with a little smile, "and if you can't find him, my desk is over there," and she moved her pointer to a rather well-appointed desk with any number of fashion pages scattered on it.

"Surprised you're an 'old friend' of Clark's. You sure as hell don't look like you're from Bumfarm, Kansas or wherever he's from."

She looked him up and down pointedly.

"I can't even imagine where you'd meet him, but I guess everybody's got their wild side somewhere, right?"

[kolodnoykovki]

He took her hand in a gentle squeeze, careful of his strength. But part of the unspoken question could be answered at least: "We met at the Catholic mission here in town. He was working on a story, I think, and I was there for lunch. I'm originally from Brooklyn."

Jim was careful to make sure the word 'Brooklyn' had a hit of Russian to it, though. That would lead her off of the exact truth.

"Thank you for being so much help, Miss Grant." And then, with a nod and kind smile, he headed for Clark's desk, perching on the edge.

[stands_for_hope]

"Well, if you can't find him, you feel free to come find me. After all, if you know Kent, you know he's not exactly reliable."

But she fluttered her fingers in a wave before heading back to her desk. The office went about it's business, talk and chatter swirling around Jim. A few snatches of conversation were louder than others.

"--ing at Kent's desk? He's gonna be disappointed."

"--ow Kent? Who'd actually be friends with Kent?"

"He's probably just serving the guy some kind of legal papers or something."

"...what could Kent even do wrong? That'd require having a spine."

"Kent's been to Brooklyn? When? How'd he survive?"

"Probably someone scammin' him."

"I'm not going to get in the way. The story won't run, but it'll be great to laugh about later. Kent's such a putz. Were you there when--"

"Oh god, he fell for the dinner trick?"

"Oh yeah, Perry was on him for days..."

[kolodnoykovki]

He wasn't deaf to the murmuring, or the implications of the murmuring. It tensed his jaw, made him bristle, but he took a slow breath and made himself calm down. It wouldn't do to lose his temper. It wouldn't do to let it leak that Clark did more than any of them would ever know. But he still had to do something to show them that Clark deserved better treatment.

The question was... what.

He pulled out his phone to absently tap away while he waited, his notepad app coming in handy yet again - just for something to pass the time while he thought and decided.

He'd already laid a bit of groundwork. It was just a matter of continuing on with it. After hitting a couple of buttons, he pretended to make a call - and he spoke in quiet, serious Russian, now and then rushing his words just to give the appearance of urgency.

[stands_for_hope]

The next major blow up came from the water cooler off to one side of the office, where Clark finally came into view. He'd knocked over the mail cart on it's way to the main aisle and a larger man (though not as large as Clark) was standing and watching Clark scramble awkwardly in the tumbled packages and letters. Jim, if he was watching, would notice Clark snatch up one of them and tuck it into his suit jacket but Lombard just laughed and shook his head.

"God, you're a frickin' mess, Kent. I don't know how you're able to get anything done when you can hardly put one foot in front of the other."

Clark looked up through his glasses, cheeks flushed and shame clear on his features, before dropping his gaze away from them both.

"Sorry, Steve," he said in a deep sigh before turning to the girl who'd been bringing the mail around, "and I'm even more sorry to you, Jenny. I didn't mean to--"

"It's all right, Mr. Kent. I know you didn't. These things happen," she said, kindly enough, patting his arm.

"I'm still-- I'm so clumsy. I'll be my own death one of these days."

Jenny giggled softly and patted him again as she helped him pick things up. 'Steve' shook his head in dismay before running a hand through his thinning hair.

"Have some pride at least, Kent. You're a reporter. She's the mail girl. Go back to your desk and do your damn job."

Kent looked up and shook his head.

"I made the mess, I should help clean it up. That's just good manners."

"Whatever, Kent."

[kolodnoykovki]

Jim was there in the span of a few steps, a final few words said into the phone before he was at the side of the mail cart. "Something wrong? --Ah, here, I'll help."

He crouched, left hand still tucked in his pocket as he helped pick up both letters and packages. The pocket was a reminder. Only one hand here and now.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark looked over at Jim with a grateful smile before continuing to neaten the letters and items into the cart. Amazingly, and the girl wouldn't even think about it, but it would be put back exactly in the same order as it'd been in before he'd knocked it over.

Lombard stared down at the two of them with a skeptical expression.

"And who is this, Kent?"

Clark smiled over at Jim and nodded in his direction.

"This is my best friend Jim," Clark explained, "the Cyclones fan."

"Oh," Lombard said with a wave and a smile down at Jim, "so you've got some taste. Clark here's a Monarch's fan, though, and you're a better man than me if you can forgive him for it."

[kolodnoykovki]

"...Ah, then you are Lombard," Jim said, offering his hand. "Thank you for the jersey and the pennants. But I would strongly prefer it if you wouldn't insult my friend."

Now, he let the accent slip more audibly into his voice. He'd been more fully Brooklyn when he'd walked in because he'd been ready to be friendly, but the more he'd heard, the less goodwill he'd felt.

[stands_for_hope]

Lombard stared at him for a moment before busting out laughing, shaking his head at the comment.

"You didn't tell me he was funny, Kent."

Clark smiled gently over at Jim and yet, there was something in his eyes. It said he didn't have to do this, that everything was fine, really. It wasn't angry or even panicked; in fact, it was the calmest he'd appeared the entire time Jim had seen him in the office.

Lombard looked down at Clark then.

"Anything for me down there? Maybe you can get me my mail on time, unlike this little ditz."

Clark looked up at Lombard.

"I don't see anything here for you, Lombard. But you might try not insulting the person who spends all of her time sorting and delivering the mail you're interested if you really want to get things on time."

Clark made a point of looking over at Jenny, who was blushing fiercely.

"If it means anything," he told her with a warm smile, "I've never had any trouble with my mail and I consider it one of the nicer parts of my day when you come by. I really am sorry to have knocked things over. I've really got to stop doing this."

Jenny waved a hand.

"It's all right, Mr. Kent. Really. We all have clumsy days."

But Clark was just about done at that point, tucking a few last letters into place and Jenny couldn't help but smile at him for fixing everything just like he'd found it before 'stumbling' into the cart. Lombard raised an eyebrow at her before she sniffed and headed down the aisle.

[kolodnoykovki]

He gave the girl - Jenny - a smile and nod, but then turned toward Lombard with his expression gone serious. "I already didn't like you for the way you spoke to my friend," he said, left hand clutching inside of his pocket. "But you insult someone for doing the job they are hired to do simply because... what? Do you think you are more important? Than her? Or than him?"

He nodded in Clark's direction, taking a step toward Lombard with a cold sort of calm.

[stands_for_hope]

"Course I am. I run the Sports section, kid," he said with a sip of his coffee, smirking over at Kent. "You didn't tell him?"

Clark sighed a little.

"I hadn't mentioned it specifically, but I generally try not to talk too much about work at home. Now, if you'll excuse me? I promised Jim we'd go to lunch."

He tilted his head towards Lois's desk encouragingly.

[kolodnoykovki]

Except Jim snorted. "You have no sense of importance. You are... What is th-- Oh yes." His Russian was there full-force now. "Stuffed shirt. Puffed chest." He thumped his own, right-handed. "Like a small creature afraid, pretending to be large. Oh no, I am so big," he mocked, voice going high pitched. "Do not eat me!"

His laughter was full, heavy - deep in his chest, and as he spoke, his voice turned thicker, darker, more playfully threatening. "Foolish man. Thinking you have the right. Perhaps I will show you who is important, hm? I come here to have lunch with my friend - my Bratva - and I find a little fun before my meal. Ne volnuytes, ya ne budu yemu bol. You see... You should not insult those that are in my family."

[stands_for_hope]

The man listened at first, getting angrier and angrier until he heard the word bratva. Then he swallowed. Clark looked like he might faceplant from pure mortification at that point, but then Lombard rallied as he took in Kent himself standing next to Jim.

"How the hell do you even know Kent? Cause Kent's about as Russian as apple pie."

Lombard took that moment and rallied, standing up straight.

"But if you want me to go outside with you and show you the arm that got me playing quarterback for the Metropolis Meteors, I'm happy to start your education in America since apparently, Kent forgot to give it to you."

And that was when Clark scrambled between them.

"Hey! Jim's my g-guest," he stammered as he looked from Jim over to Lombard, "and I think I saw Vivienne in accounting brought in cupcakes for her department" but Vivienne was well known for making too much "if you wanted to catch a snack. We're probably all just hungry."

[kolodnoykovki]

Jim laughed. "A cupcake would be a better match for this man's arm than to try me. Go on, fluffed-up fool. Enjoy something sweet. Better than the sour ending you would find against me. I will let this time be a warning."

[stands_for_hope]

Lombard gave Jim a very dirty look before giving Kent a roll of his eyes and stalking off. Clark nearly collapsed against Jim in the now-empty hallway, his shoulders shaking just a bit in withheld laughter. One arm slipped around Jim's shoulders.

"Sorry about that. I had to get a few of the letters and one of those packages off the cart."

[kolodnoykovki]

"He won't let it go," Jim answered quietly, arm flung around Clark in return, a friendly smile on his face. "That kind never does. Guess I've turned out to be as bad as Steve, picking fights like that. Everything all right?"

[stands_for_hope]

Clark shook his head with a crooked smile over at Jim.

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

Then he switched to Russian.

"Pis'ma soderzhat ugrozy smerti i vrednykh khimicheskikh veshchestv. Paket predstavlyayet soboy bomba ustanovlen vzorvat'sya pri otkrytii." He kept the pleasant expression on his face, though, regardless of what he was carrying at this point. Death threats and a bomb. Just the usual day at the Daily Planet.

"I just need to take a second to take out the garbage and then we can swing by and grab Lois."

[kolodnoykovki]

Jim nodded good-heartedly, thumping his back with a definite show of brotherhood. "Umnyy muzhchina. Ya mogu podozhdat zdes, veroyatno, poluchite davay snova. Zhenshchina s slishkom mnogo makiyazha - golodnym dlya cheloveka, ne tak li? I'll make another call. Think of a place to go for lunch."

[stands_for_hope]

"Ona milaya chelovek v glubine dushi. No da, ona nemnogo Lyudoyeda."

Because he liked Cat, even if she made Lois just a bit twitchy.

Then he breathed out.

"Lois's desk is up on the left over there, near Perry's. If you want slip over there while I take care of this?"

[kolodnoykovki]

With a low chuckle, Jim nodded. "I'll wait there, then," he said and headed in that direction, phone pulled out of his pocket to poke at absently.