stands_for_hope | At Home with Clark and Jim

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house of am

At Home with Clark and Jim

[continued from here]

They'd fallen into a routine pretty easily.

Clark had managed to write up something about the church bust without incriminating either of them, which meant that his Perry had been pleased enough with his work for the day and had only yelled at him for five minutes about his failure to show up in the office the whole day. Lois had ribbed him a little, which had been remarked upon as she usually gave the new guy hell if he did anything remotely out of the line, and then she'd ribbed him a lot. He hadn't minded too terribly much since he had visited her afterwards at her apartment and she'd done plenty of kissing to make it better.

With a second person in the apartment, he'd started to fix it up a little, bringing home new linens, keeping the fridge stocked more regularly, and he'd even managed to find a new couch for them through a very kindly older woman and Craigslist.

True to his word, he'd gotten some rudimentary identification for Jim and he walked through the door with a spring in his step, closing the door behind him and plopping it down on the kitchen table with a smile.

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Clark nodded and, as soon as laid down some detergent on the spot, wrapped up the criminals in a blur before hooking his arms into the ducttape straps.

"I'll see you back at the apartment.

"Take care."

With a single nod, tucking the tablet into his tac suit, he gathered himself and jumped up, taking hold of the edge of the skylight and pulling himself through. This part, at least, he could do. He'd had practice.

Other people would've been frightened to jump from rooftop to rooftop, but for Jim, it was a matter of course. Even the height difference didn't bother him. But once he was far enough away, he pulled out the tablet and started to see what he could do to disable any tracking. That was going to be the tricky part.

The technician had been in the middle of using it, so everything was currently unlocked on the tablet. The tracking software, however, was rather iron clad.

Halfway across town, Clark dropped off the various unconscious HYDRA members and gave his statement before flying off. He'd been very firm about the man with the metal arm and the red start and kept his ear on the station to figure out who, exactly, was going to pass the information along.

Halfway across the country, a text message was sent to a certain 'nonagenarian's' phone that Superman had spotted, but not apprehended, a man with a metal arm in Metropolis.

The tracking software, then, was going to be a problem. Especially with his lack of training. He frowned, prodding at it, before he thought and the idea came to him. He ran, evading cameras, as he took the tablet deep into a parking structure and tucked it into a junction box to jumble the signal even further. Unless they had another method of tracking, surely that would mean it would be secure until he had a way to disable that tracking software.

Once that was done, and after he'd hidden from a few passing vehicles that looked more than slightly suspicious, he headed to the apartment. It was a careful trail he blazed, having to climb up the building alongside, jump to the roof, and then down to the window that had hopefully been left open. If it was safe enough for Clark to fly through, it was safe enough for him to climb through.

When he came in, it was to see Lois slowly lowering the weapon he'd given her to the kitchen table.

"Oh thank God. Is everything all right? Where's Clark?"

"I got blood on your floor," he answered, pulling off his goggles and mask, "but Clark should be here soon. He was dropping off the Hydra agents. I went on foot to be a diversion." Then he paused. "Your apartment may be classified as a crime scene."

"Oh, is that all," she says flatly, not angry or even annoyed. Mostly she's just doing her best not to freak out. She's Lois Lane, fearless in the face of any story, but this mess very much involves other people and their lives and she's never dealt with it well when her dogged journalism rubbed up against good people's hopes and dreams.

She walks over to the living room couch and lets herself collapse on it.

"How many were there? And did you notice anyone following you when you left?"

"I saw vehicles trying to find me, but I eluded them. I let a few catch a glimpse but led them off. There were a handful of operatives, one had a tablet. It had tracking software I couldn't turn off, so I obscured it so I can get to it later."

It was a mission report, in a way. Something he was used to doing. But then he exhaled. "I'm going to change. Keep the gun close just in case."

She nodded and went back to the table, pulling the gun into her hands.

"I'll keep watch," she says brightly, trying to keep her spirits up. Jim looked... tired.

"And when you get back, I'll ask you a few questions about the tablet. I might know someone who could look into it for us."

"I figured if any of us could do something about the tablet, it'd be you." He shucked his top on the way, but edged the door closed behind him. It didn't take him long to change, even down to his boots, though he went into the bathroom afterward to rinse off his skin. He didn't want to smell like stifling leather. Soon enough, he was back in the living room, though, looking more like a normal guy.

Clark's there when he gets there, back in his usual plaid shirt, t-shirt, and jeans, looking just a little bit drained. It's obvious half of his attention is elsewhere but he's chatting with Lois as Jim walks in and turns to greet him pleasantly enough.

"All dropped off. Glad to see you got in okay."

"Any mention of anybody on my tail?" he asked first thing - that way he'd know if he could let go of the anxious energy that was keeping him going. "I passed a few, letting them see me, but I led them away from this direction."

Clark shook his head.

"They're scrambling. I've got at least four or five locations throughout the city and I'm reasonably certain I know who the police informant is. Apparently, one of the ones from the apartment is convinced you have psychic powers. The leader has already put out that Lois Lane may or may not be Pierce's choice to take over after he died."

Which has Lois almost falling out of her chair.

"How did he get THAT idea?"

That, Jim slightly smiled at.

"As far as they're concerned, I'm your asset now."

Lois reserved the right to headdesk, or at least to headkitchentable. After a second, she lifted her head again to ask him a question.

"So does that mean they're going to try and kill me or they're going to try and work for me?"

"They'll try to confirm the story. They won't be able to, but that won't be surprising. Hydra is full of secrets. Even secrets this big. But the scientists will confirm that I was out of cryo for too long to go back in without more prep than they had available in DC. My disappearance from DC will point to a mission, once they think about it, and then my appearance in your apartment -- eventually, they'll decide that what I said was correct, and they'll try to contact you to 'apologise' for their mistake."

"In person? Or should I look for any particularly creepy emails or something?"

Clark put his hand on Lois's arm.

"I'll stick by you for the next couple of days. We'll say we're collaborating."

Lois put her other hand on top of Clark's, gave him a twitch of a smile, then looked directly at Jim.

"Tell me what I need to know to pull this off when they do contact me."

"It won't be over any kind of traceable communication, so no letters, no emails, no phone calls. They'll come to you in person. You'll be able to tell them by the pin they wear."

He wasn't an artist, but he was able to sketch a rough approximation, which he pushed across to Lois.

"When they tell you 'hail Hydra', you do the same. They'll ask you why you never reported to the higher-ups here in Metropolis. You say your orders came from higher up than them. Hopefully we'll be able to get into the tablet before then. They won't be surprised that it gets accessed, if I'm reporting to you."

"They won't wonder why I didn't use more official channels? Are there official channels?"

She glanced down at the symbol, somewhat repulsed. She'd seen it before in some historical documents and in some of the paperwork she'd been able to unearth.

Clark nodded along to what Jim was saying.

"We should figure out something you can say if you need us to pull you out."

Lois looked to Jim.

"They won't wonder because all of them are looking for leadership. Some minor heads are going to be jockeying for power. Some of them might get angry that you got tapped and not them - especially when they've never heard of you." He paused. "Especially the Clairvoyant. Mention him if you need us to take you out. And tell them you won't meet with them privately without me there. We'll... try to put this together within a week, so we can take them out without you being in too much danger."

"Is he actually clairvoyant?" she had to ask.

"...will he notice if I mention him?"

Jim shook his head. "No. He's one of the Hydra agents in SHIELD, in place to know things and seem clairvoyant. His name is... Garrett. Not sure about more than that."

She let out a little huff of breath in relief and rewarded him with a brilliant smile.

"Okay! So. I'm heading to a hotel for the night, I need to talk to my contact about the tablet, and otherwise, and everything is in place."

"You're welcome to stay here, Lois. That is--"

He looks to Jim.

"Do you mind if Lois stays over?"

Jim shook his head. "You're safer here, Lois," he said, his voice the gentlest it had been so far. "Stay here. Please."

At Home with Clark and Jim

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