Mercy, Part II

By superninja

All characters belong to Warner Bros, DC Comics, and praise be to Paul Dini & Co.

Please read Part I, Mercy.

***

Although I think Mercy mistook my intentions, some small part of me is flattered. Maybe it's because she's beautiful, maybe it's because she smiled at me and I've never seen her smile at Luthor that way, or maybe it's just because…

Nah. That maybe is like the first time I laid eyes on Lois Lane. Just a spark was all it took. Of course, she didn't even notice me breathing, much less my existence. She saved that for Superman. Part of me can't blame her for liking him better, but deep down, I'm just good 'ol Smallville farm boy Clark Kent. When I left Smallville, I left so much behind. Mom, Dad…Lana. Lana loved Clark Kent. She loved me just the way I was until she found out I had powers and it freaked her out. It's like I've gone from one extreme to the next.

Superman, Kal-El, Clark Kent - sometimes the edges blur between the three and yet they are all distinct entities housed inside of me. One day, maybe I'll figure out just who I am. Well, I know who I am; maybe someday I'll find a permanent name for myself.

***

I'm near my apartment building now, so as usual I do a quick scan before jumping to super speed so that no ordinary eyes can watch Superman go into Clark Kent's apartment.

Check the messages. There's one and I'm really hoping it's a one Miss Lois Lane. Playback, and no such luck. It's just Perry with my assignment for tomorrow morning. Won't be going into the office -- I'll be covering the unveiling of Luthor's new…

"Bionetics technology?"

Looks like it didn't take much time for Luthor to put Braniac to good use.

***

I'm up bright and early at LexCorp's unveiling of their new bionetics technology. "An amazing advancement in medical technology." -- That's what the press release says anyway. I wonder if anyone is asking Luthor about the military applications? Yeah…RIGHT.

Luthor comes to the stand to talk, and I pull out my writing pad. But I'm not really interested in Luthor anymore. More curious to me is the figure that stands next to him, Mercy Graves.

It's sort of embarrassing to admit this, but I find myself trying to pick out details, to figure out what is different about her this time. I know I'm nuts because she always wears the same uniform. Come to think of it, the only time I ever saw her out of the costume was the other night when she was in that terrycloth robe. White, fluffy cotton…smelled like lavender…

"STOP it Clark," I tell myself.

Man, Perry is going to kill me if I don't come back with a story. Time to focus, Clark.

***

Alertness is the key to being a bodyguard. That and preparedness. Luthor expects me to be in top form today, and I won't disappoint him. I won't give him the satisfaction.

I stay as still as possible, letting my eyes sweep over the crowd. Same as usual. Typical reporters, the muckrakers the paparazzi, and the green horns. Ah, speaking of muckrakers, there's Clark Kent, ace reporter. Or, second ace, as Lois Lane is the first and the best.

Trying not to let my mind drift, I wonder why Lois isn't here. She loves covering LexCorp events, where there's always hope for disaster and destruction. Must be something really big if she isn't covering this. Before I really disliked Lois, but now I positively despise her. As much as I don't want to admit it, I know why. It used to bother me that Lois had a relationship with Lex. I never thought she deserved him because I'd convinced myself all this time that I was the one who deserved his love and loyalty. Turn for a turn.

Now I just hate her because Superman is always there for her. He was there for me a night ago, but he will always be there for Lois Lane and I find myself extremely jealous of the fact. Really, I have no reason but it just rises to the surface no matter how hard I try to squelch it. And Superman didn't offer me anything the other night -- just the hope that maybe there was something better for me out there.

Superman cuts such a romantic figure, but I keep reminding myself that fairy tales are for good little girls, and not for people like me.

And why is Clark Kent looking at me like that?

***

Just finishing up my shower. It's been a long day, needless to say. No PR fire with LexCorp, but Luthor has worn me out with his perpetual silence. My emotional side says he's plotting against me. My logical side says he's just trying to play me -- scare me into submission.

I step out into the cool air and slip on my robe, staring down at my feet. I'm already thinking of going to the balcony. Of jumping off the edge just so *he'll* show up.

How pathetic.

The most vivid memory is of his warm skin. Like when you just take laundry out of the dryer and you roll in it before you fold it. So comforting and inviting.

I wonder where Superman sleeps at night?

Control, Mercy. The man's been on your mind for two days straight now. There must be some way to get closer to him, to see what makes him tick. Trying to take out the Man of Steel in combat isn't exactly the best time for those things. Not that I get time off anyway. My job makes me spend most of my time with Lex.

Then it hits me. The connection I was pondering earlier. Superman and Lois Lane. Lois Lane and Clark Kent. Kent is a total square. Maybe he doesn't need a date, but then maybe he does.

***

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet."

"Hello Mr. Kent. This is Mercy Graves."

"Pardon?" Clark Kent looked around quickly and then pushed his chair into the corner of his cubicle. "Your connection sounds fuzzy," he said, lowering his voice. "You on a cellular?"

"A pay phone. You don't think I'd be so stupid as to…"

"No," he replied quickly.

"You give a little you get a little, Kent."

"Is that on the record?"

"Absolutely not, but the best is yet to come," she paused. "Meet me at Ciro's, 11:00 PM."

"For what? Drinks?"

"No, a milkshake," she teased sarcastically.

"Alright. I'll be there," he answered, hanging up the phone. Luthor's thugs always liked to be cryptic. It made him suspicious.

***

Clark sat in a darkened booth in the back corner of Ciro's.

Sipping on his soda, he looked impatiently at his watch. His eyes wandered to his suit, rumpled from the day's wear. Should he have changed? He rolled his eyes at the very thought.

Mercy has a relationship with Superman, not Clark Kent. Unless she'd made some sort of crazy

correlation he had to play coy.

He was about to take another sip when Mercy walked into the room.

She was wearing a low-cut dress that was powder blue. The hemline, at the very most, came up to the tops of her thighs. The heels on her feet almost put her at Clark's height.

"M-ms. Graves," he said with a gulp.

"Mr. Kent," she replied, taking his hand.

There was a slight smile on her face, which irritated Clark considering the circumstances.

It seemed that Mercy had other plans.

The End?