At Home with Clark and Jim

[stands_for_hope]

[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.

Comments

[stands_for_hope]

"Dinner shouldn't take too long," he reported before heading over to his usual spot on the couch.

"So where're you going to be working? Something normal or some of the reparation projects?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Repair," he nodded. "They need people to lift and carry. I can do that." His strength, here, was going to be his selling point.

[stands_for_hope]

"Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't be out there doing that myself," he admitted, letting his head drop back against the couch.

"But then I remember how bad I am at keeping my secret when I walk the line like that."

It was a line in and of itself.

[kolodnoykovki]

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I'm... a little worried about... when the weather gets warmer." As the weather got warmer and people started wearing short sleeves, and he wore one short sleeve and one long, along with one glove. It would make him very conspicuous.

[stands_for_hope]

"You could always switch to carpentry at that point," Clark said after a minute of obvious thought.

"This place is a pretty good example of how good you'd be at it. It's mostly inside, and you'd be working on your own."

It took him a minute to realize that he the warmth he felt was the idea that Jim was quite content to still BE there by the time summer came around.

"Though there's a new fad that involves thin long sleeves and you have to wear gloves anyway for the job..."

He shrugged.

"I'm sure we can figure it out."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Maybe I could paint it," he murmured thoughtfully, looking down at his arm. A coating of paint that would look like skin tone... It was possible, anyway, but he wasn't sure how the metal would take paint unless it was baked-on enamel.

He could bake on some enamel, though. He'd just need a blowtorch.

"You're right. We'll figure something out."

[stands_for_hope]

"Actually," he said with a tilt of his head, "you could. Latex paint, a little blushing from an airbrush... most people wouldn't look twice and those that did would just assume you were using a prosthetic."

He offered a crooked smile.

"Which isn't really a lie."

[kolodnoykovki]

It was a point. A point he conceded with a nod. "I don't know how it'll stick. It might have to be enamel," he said, "but... that or get some kind of fabric and make a single sleeve and say it's a prosthetic..." He shrugged. "Still not a lie."

[stands_for_hope]

"We should look into priming materials," he agreed. "But all the same, as long as you cover it a bit, people won't bother you too much."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Especially if ..." He paused, then shrugged. "If I end up helping you sometimes."

[stands_for_hope]

That has him sitting up a bit more on the couch.

"Are you--"

But he hated asking Jim if he was sure. If Jim wasn't sure, he would say he wasn't sure, and if he was sure, then he didn't want to cast any doubt on the other man's decisions. He breathed out a little.

"I'd appreciate it, especially since you seem to have more experience in hiding. But I don't want you to feel like you have to. Or that you're tempting fate pulling your... acquaintances here."

Not that he wouldn't pull out the stops and handle it. Jim'd gotten an invitation back to the farm for Thanksgiving. That was practically adoption papers.

[kolodnoykovki]

He nodded toward his room. "I still have my tac suit. It needs a new sleeve. I cached all my weapons a few towns away. I guess I'd need to change to... non-lethal..." That would probably be best, he knew, for all it wasn't his usual method. It may even take some time to make sure he could fight without killing someone.

[stands_for_hope]

"I know some places we could go if you need room to practice," because goodness knew he couldn't really experiment with his own powers in the confines of Metropolis proper.

"And I'm happy to provide a somewhat more useful training dummy."

He smiled.

"Honestly, you could probably teach me a few things. I've never really thrown a punch until... well, until everything happened."

He'd shoved timber through a 16 wheeler, but he hadn't actually HIT anyone before the Kryptonians.

[kolodnoykovki]

That was easy to agree to. He nodded without hesitation. "Then you will need... practice. Training. And tactics." Things he knew he had, even if he wasn't used to thinking about it consciously. His memories had come back in enough of a patchwork for him to know how to do things, why to do things, even if he preferred to forget how he learned.

[stands_for_hope]

"Definitely. They...kinda threw me around like a rag doll for the most part."

He was rubbing at the back of his neck, but it was awkwardness as opposed to any lasting pain.

[kolodnoykovki]

He stifled a laugh. Not directly at Clark but at his embarrassment. "You definitely need practice."

[stands_for_hope]

"I definitely need practice," he agreed before standing up and heading to the stove. The food ought to be done about then, he figured, and the rice was already finished.

He popped on the oven, opened it up, then turned back to the fridge to pull out the pie he'd prepped earlier. That was slipped into the oven with the door closed after it

"Is there any thing specifically you'd like to help me with? Or that you'd prefer not to help me with?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"That... depends on if you want to know how to kill people," Jim said, honest and quiet at once. Better to be quiet. Sometimes apartments had thin walls. Better to keep some things private. "And I don't think you need to know about guns."

[stands_for_hope]

His head drooped a little at the mention. But he soldiered on.

"Actually, I should probably learn anything you can teach me," he said, peering over at Jim.

"I might not shoot the gun or use the knowledge myself, but knowing how people might move, or how many bullets they have left... that sort of knowledge might be useful."

[kolodnoykovki]

He paused, but then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I can teach you that. It's... probably not going to be pleasant for you." Clark was too nice for that. "But you're right. It would be useful knowledge for you."

[stands_for_hope]

"I didn't sign on for pleasant," he admitted as he took the top off of the pot of food. A quick taste test said that all the flavors had come together properly and a fork test told him that the vegetables were done just so. He pulled out a couple of bowls to serve with, as well as a rice paddle from the cooker's box.

"I just hope I won't try your patience too much. I'm usually a quick study, though."

Rice onto paddle into bowl, and he tugged out a soup tureen from the drawer to put the curry on top before sliding it onto the table in front of Jim with a fork and a spoon. He served himself, then sat down across from the other man to eat.

[kolodnoykovki]

When the food was given, he leaned over it and inhaled the scent. It did have a unique scent all its own. Its own flavour that seemed to come with it. No wonder Clark couldn't describe it before. "I don't know about my patience. I think I'll be all right. I... think I'm practiced at being patient."

Bit by bit. Things were still coming to him. He just didn't really want all of them.

[stands_for_hope]

"You've been plenty patient with me," Clark mentioned as he popped a curry-soaked vegetable into his mouth.

[kolodnoykovki]

"You haven't required much patience." And at last, he followed Clark's example, poking a vegetable onto his fork and then curiously tasting it before eating it properly. Interesting.

[stands_for_hope]

"How'd it come out?" because while he had a few questions for the moment, that was the important one.