Clark Kent (
stands_for_hope) wrote2014-07-14 01:02 pm
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Entry tags:
Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling
[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.
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.
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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.
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"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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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"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.
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He nodded in Clark's direction, taking a step toward Lombard with a cold sort of calm.
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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.
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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."
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"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."
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"Sorry about that. I had to get a few of the letters and one of those packages off the cart."
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"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."
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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?"
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"Hey, Jim. Here for lunch? I hope you weren't just sitting there and letting me work for too long..."
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"Threatened a guy? This is a story I want to hear. During lunch, of course. Where's Clark?"
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Clark walked up then, smiling at the two of them before gesturing to the elevator.
"Ready to go?"
"Been ready, Smallville. I was waitin' on you."
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