BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ
The phone vibrated fiercely against the wooden dresser.
Clark lifted his eyes from the damp towel he was using to dry his hair. Diana, seated on the edge of the bed, flipped through a dark-covered book, legs crossed, eyes attentive but clearly listening to everything.
Clark grabbed the phone. The screen lit up.
Lex Luthor.
He answered with his thumb, pressing the device to his ear as the towel fell over his shoulders.
"Lex?"
"Clark."
The voice was graver than usual, as if it had passed through smoke and gunpowder. In the background, the muffled sound of footsteps and a steady beep echoed faintly.
"What happened?"
"I got shot."
Clark stayed silent for two seconds. Diana glanced at him sideways, alert.
"Say that again."
"A shot. Grazed me. But the watch? Stolen."
'Stolen?'
"The Rolex?"
"The gold one. From the shareholders' meeting. A gift from the Board. Gone."
Clark rubbed his eyes, his voice tinged with a mix of sarcasm and realism.
"You're in Gotham. I wouldn't expect less."
Lex let out a dry laugh, a bitter edge to the sound.
"This damn city seems to spit out what it can't swallow. Nothing works there without going wrong."
Diana set the book down and approached slowly, her eyes narrowed. Clark covered the microphone with his hand for a moment.
"Lex. Was it at the party?"
"Yeah. That damn Bruce's event. Gunfire, explosion, people running, blood on the floor like it was a carpet."
Clark let out a low sigh.
"You cursed the moment you accepted the invitation, didn't you?"
"Clark, I barely finished my whiskey before I had to roll behind a marble statue to avoid dying. Tell me… which part of that sounds like a good investment?"
"You're alive. That's what matters."
Lex snorted.
"I'm boarding in a few minutes. Jet's already waiting at the hangar."
"You're coming back right now?"
"Now. If I spend another night in Gotham, I'll end up running for mayor just to clean up that cesspool."
Clark walked to the window, parting the curtain with two fingers. Outside, Smallville slept like a town wrapped in a blanket of tranquility.
"Gotham's another world."
"It's a hole with a façade."
Clark stared at the dark sky for a few seconds.
'Bruce…'
'Batman… I don't remember him from the show. Just Gotham. Maybe… maybe one day I'll go there. Meet him. If he even exists here.'
"Clark?"
"Yeah."
"Keep an eye on the mansion. And… if the foundation folks ask about me, tell them I came back with a scar and no watch."
Clark smiled faintly.
"You want me to say it's style or failure?"
"Your choice. But make the dramatic part pop."
The sound of doors opening on the other end. Quicker footsteps. Voices echoing off metal.
"They're calling me. Gotta go."
"Take it easy. And rest."
"Oh, I will. As soon as I erase every memory of that damn party."
Lex smirked on the other end.
"Talk soon."
The click was sharp. No ceremony.
The phone returned to its home screen. Clark placed it back on the dresser and leaned back in the chair by the window.
Diana was still there, now standing, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.
"Lex got shot?"
Clark nodded slowly.
"But he survived. Of course. Luthor has more lives than he should."
Diana approached leisurely, sitting on the edge of the opposite chair.
"Gotham. Never heard of it."
Clark looked at her. Her expression was firm but curious.
"It's the most dangerous city in the world. But… there's something there. Something that feels out of place."
"You going?"
Clark shifted his gaze back to the sky.
"Not for now. But maybe one day."
Diana fell silent. Then she smiled faintly.
"You like complicated cities."
Clark raised an eyebrow.
"Smallville gives me enough headaches as it is."
---
Alicia's Room
"It was so incredible…"
Her breathing was still slightly quickened, even with the room steeped in silence. Alicia lay on her side, eyes fixed on the dimly lit ceiling, where shadows danced with the flicker of the bedside lamp. The thin sheet covered only part of her body, as if it had been pulled hastily and left there.
"Clark is incredible."
The whisper dissolved into the air but kept vibrating inside her like an old song played on repeat. Her head sank into the pillow, and her cheeks burned.
'I should've asked for his address.'
She rolled onto her back, hands clasped over her chest. A goofy smile spread across her lips, the kind that only appears when the soul feels too light to hide it.
'But it's okay. He'll reply tomorrow. He always does.'
"Now I need to think…"
Her voice was softer, murmured between dry lips.
"How to get closer to him."
Her fingers lightly brushed her lips, still sensitive from the kiss. It was almost unbelievable. The scent of his jacket still clung to her clothes. A scent of earth, leather, and sky.
"I tried the newspaper…"
Her words came out more haltingly now. Her eyes blinked slowly, fighting against exhaustion.
"Chloe… that petty woman."
Alicia pressed her lips together. The memory of the conversation cut through her thoughts like a sour note. Chloe's hostility was sharp, even behind fake smiles. A wall hard to break.
"She didn't let me."
The sheet shifted as Alicia rolled onto her side again, now hugging her pillow. The fabric's touch wasn't as warm as Clark's.
"Maybe I should try something else…"
Martha Kent's image surfaced in her mind like a gentle reflection. The rounded belly. The kind eyes. The welcoming voice that felt like a blanket on a stormy day.
"She's pregnant… maybe she needs help."
Alicia's eyes gleamed a bit brighter, even in the dark. The ideas clicked together like puzzle pieces. Did Clark live with her? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was a connection. A point of access.
"Domestic help…"
She let out a soft giggle, muffled against the pillow.
"Of course. I can help. I can cook… clean… maybe even organize the baby's clothes."
Her heart beat faster. The ideas came quickly, one after another.
'I can be useful. I can be needed.'
'I'm not just a girl. I'm someone who cares.'
"But first…"
Her voice dragged now, overtaken by drowsiness.
"First, I have to ask permission."
Alicia rubbed her hand over her face. Her eyes were already closing, but she forced her body to stay awake just a little longer.
"Tomorrow."
The words came out as a tired whisper, almost a spell.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Tonight…"
Her body sank into the mattress as if the earth were pulling her back into a dream.
"Tonight, I'll have a beauty sleep."
She smiled with her head turned to the side, her hair splayed across the pillow like a golden veil.
'Because tomorrow, it all begins.'
Her breathing slowed.
'The start of us.'
'For real.'
The lamp flickered one last time and went out.
And the room plunged into absolute darkness.
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