The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

[Superman1496]

Trust me, Bruce said, remembering the Scarecrow incident. messing with people seems to be what they do best.

The walked down the main hallway, where the sprinklers had been shut off. The floor was soaking wet and flooded. Some of the posters on the wall had been smeared, papers floated across the floor, and a backpack here and there sat alone.

'Come on Chloe, where are you?' Bruce asked himself, looking around at everyone trying to see the blonde woman in the midst.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

"There are always bullies," Rose murmured softly, having withdrawn into herself like a hedgehog curling into a ball. "But no. This wasn't normal. This was... this was..."

She shivered at the memory of the fury in the principal's eyes. The way he had gone from icicle detachment to vehement, spitting rage. And someone had been his.

Her voice went even quieter, and it was no longer obvious that she was aware of her own speaking aloud: "...dancing with The Devil in the pale moonlight."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe and Pete

The crowd parted, briefly, and Chloe was standing by Mr. Gladstone.

She'd changed clothes, having switched to a dry pair of jeans and sneakers and put on a fresh black shirt-- "Vote Prez Rickard, '08," it read --in the safety of The Torch office before presenting herself for the inevitable headcount. Her sneakers had since gotten soaked again, thanks to the wetness of the floor, but at least the rest of her was a bit drier. Chloe, it seemed, was prepared for exactly everything.

(True, the outfit was hardly her usual fare, but that's why it was a spare outfit.)

Mr. Gladstone was dubiously holding the camcorder for her while she triple-checked the innards of her cellphone for droplets of water. Didn't want the motherboard getting corroded, after all.

She clapped the phone battery back on, and the backplate, and was just accepting the 'corder back from the dubious Mr. Gladstone when the quartet returned. Of course, that was the moment that the crowd chose to close in again, so it was with a heavy heart and grunts of frustration that Chloe had to shoulder her way through to get back to her reporters, the random brunette, and the handsome prince.

"Hey!" she grinned lopsidedly, brandishing the camcorder, fresh mini DV cassette already in place. "You guys look like you've been to the wars!"

In particular, she eyed Pete and his obvious injury. "Holy... holy shock. What happened to you guys?"

"'I fight Authority,'" Rose mumbled, a twang sneaking into her voice as she channeled Mellencamp, "'Authority always wins.'"

Pete grinned softly at Chloe. "Woman? You will not believe me if I tell you. I am prone to exaggeration, that's how come you dig my no-holds-barred satirical editorials. But here goes nothin': I got expelled 'cause I engaged in fisticuffs with the principal, then teamed up with a boy billionaire and a platitude-spouting redhead for some impromptu grief counseling."

"Well," Chloe blinked, "he's right. He told me, and I don't believe him. No offence, Pete."

Pete grinned. "Same ol' story."

Chloe's eyes darted from Bruce's, where they lingered a little longer than from simple concern, to the brunette's, where recognition dawned-- (Selina. Selena. Kyle. Another Kyle? Lord.) --as she remembered the girl from the same list of incoming students that had produced the as-yet-uninvestigated Kara Kent.

(She glanced at Rose, too. But Rose had a faraway look in her eyes, and Chloe decided, executive decision, that Rose wasn't going to be much help at the moment.)

Her eyes searched Bruce, and searched Selena, and earnest demand flooded her features.

"Seriously," she demanded, "ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I require some hardcore exposition."

 

[Superman1496]

Rose's words filled Bruce's head quicker then his shoes filled with water in the flooded hallways.

Dancing with the Devil in the pale moonlight.

A shiver went down Bruce's spine. He wasn't sure he even heard her correctly, for she was quiet. Bruce almost felt sick to his stomach thinking of it. He didn't even know if he could pass being as calm as he had been.

Those words, that night. His parents took him to a show, and they left because of him. The killer stepped out of the shadows, pulled a gun, and held them up. Bruce's father tried to calm the thief, and do what he wanted, but the man shot them both, cold blood.

And he pointed the gun at Bruce. Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moon-light, kid? He asked, as a young Bruce stared down the barrel of a six-shooter revolver. Then something happened, and the man left, without shooting Bruce, and left him to sit over his dead parents.


...

Bruce's stomach tightened, and as always, anger filled him. They met Chloe, who seemed to have changed during the chaos (Of all people Bruce would think to do that, it was Chloe). She wanted a story of what was happening. And Bruce couldn't even find it in himself to speak.

Only one question came out:

Rose, where did you hear those words from? Bruce said, quietly, staring directly into the young girls eyes.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Rose blinked up at him like she was surprised he existed.

Dragonslayer eyes. He was very beautiful.

She wondered if his eyes burned lavender in the dark. She suspected that they might.

She blinked up at him, but she'd gone very very deep into her brain, the sort of depths she usually only reached when she was alone, staring into nowhere. She'd fled down the passageways of her mind and left her subconscious in charge.

But her subconscious had always been sharp as a tack, sharp as a razor, noticing everything, and her subconscious had issued replies without proper authorisation.

Thus, it took addled little Rose a moment to decipher what Bruce Wayne was on about. At first, she thought he'd meant the Mellencamp, but then she saw the murk and the desperation in his face and she swallowed hard.

Meekly, feebly, she whispered: "Title of a song by Jamestown Story."

Then she blinked, and she went away again, her eyes aching and empty and wide and blue.

"No," she murmured. "Song came out in 2007. I heard it before then. Heard it..."

"Auntie Claire," she softly muttered, "always used to say that. The Devil and the pale moonlight. My mum's sister. She sold out, I think. Mum and Dad don't get on with her, anymore. They don't get along at all."

She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Auntie Claire McCrimmon," she reiterated: "'Y mae dafad ddu ym mhob praidd.'"

 

[Superman1496]

What do you mean sold out? Bruce asked. It was a simple question, and he would have to apologize for being so rude and demanding, but he had to know.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe and Pete

She blinked, startled, reawakened, took a step back.

She looked at him like he was the scariest thing she'd ever seen.

Not the dragonslayer anymore. Not Saint George. He was The Dragon. Smaug, deep in Erebor. Big leathery wings, eyes gleaming in the night, clad in armour from head to talons...

Rose shook her head sharply to clear it.

"'The family business,'" she replied softly, holding her head in her hands. "The McCrimmon family business. She went into the business, but she got it wrong somehow, worked for the wrong people, fell in with the wrong crowd. Mum and Dad never told me much about it.

"But I don't get it," Rose insisted, looking back up at Bruce not with fear but with utter bewilderment. "My mum's a hairdresser. The family business is hairdressing. How can you fall in with the wrong crowd when you're a hairdresser?

"It was just something she liked to say," Rose murmured, pleadingly. "Auntie Claire. She said it when she visited, before Mum told her not to come 'round anymore. It was just something she liked to say."

Pete and Chloe stood aghast, bewildered.

Neither of them knew what to say, at first.

"Bruce?" Chloe attempted. "Are you okay? You're acting like she's Henri Ducard..."

Pete turned to Selena and winced helplessly. "'Round here? 'Seeming normal' tends to just be a halftime show between being totally whack-ass twisted. Lesson one."

 

[Superman1496]

Ok, I'm going to be really blunt with you three right now. Bruce said, looking away from Rose's eyes, down to the floor.

My parents were killed a couple years ago. Shot dead, right in front of me. The killer then pulled the gun on me, and quoted your aunt. Bruce added, looking back at Rose. His eyes torn between anger and pain.

And I can't explain why your aunt would happen to quote this joker. I can't make any suggestions, or say anything, I do not know her. But something isn't right. Bruce said. He looked from Rose to Chloe.

Anger settled for a moment. But pain filled the void, and not even Bruce could hide it.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe and Pete

Chloe stood, again slackjawed, feeling like she had felt the moment the sprinklers had uncorked overhead: rooted to the spot, unable to move. But then, with a primal whimper of anguish and frustration she hurriedly powered off the camcorder.

She hadn't been taping this. But she didn't want to give into temptation. Because some things were more important than a good story.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Ben Urich, a pop-cultural icon in the world of the young journalist, was a hard-bitten old man whose conscience had nonetheless never deserted him. He crusaded against such beasts as The Kingpin and Norman Osborn, but when presented with full knowledge of the secret identities of both Spider-Man and Daredevil, he chose to look the other way rather than break the story.

Because they were good men who had lived tragic lives and were striving to make the world a better place. They didn't deserve, Ben decided, to have what secrets were left to them taken away.

And thus did Chloe Sullivan kill the power on her camcorder and sigh a dismal sigh.

"Bruce, I'm so sorry," she breathed, but she turned to Rose with a bit of a snarl on her face. "What's the deal, Cerebra? Did you know about this? Did you dredge this up on purpose? You harpoon my chance to crack open Greystonegate and five minutes later you're breaking Bruce Wayne's heart?"

Rose looked like someone had shot her with barbed Uruk-hai arrows. She even clutched her heart with both hands... the blood ran away from her face. Given that she had been blushing only moments previously, this made her look white as a sheet. Fire-red hair, snow-white skin, sky-blue eyes.

"I didn't kn--" she stumbled, her eyes darting from Pete to Chloe to Bruce to Selena to Chloe again. "I didn't know. No idea. For-for-for all I know? It could be... it could be some Welsh thing, what he said. A proverb or-or-or whatever the crap. My mum is Welsh, her sister is Welsh, the gunman who-- God I'm so sorry, Bruce, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an arse --he could have been Welsh. Bruce even kind of looks Welsh a little, if-if-if a person can look Welsh. Maybe it's because of Wales. Some kind of stupid Cardiff crime syndicate? (Oh God. Oh GodohGod.)"

Rose kind of crumpled, and Pete was so convinced she was about to pass out that he ran to her side and stood there in case she tried to face-plant on the floor.

She swayed, but stayed standing. Just barely.

"I'm so stupid," she whispered. "I'm a stupid fool whose stupid is the size of Wales."

"Rose," Chloe enunciated carefully, "it's okay. Also? This isn't about you."

Rose quieted, and stilled herself, and hugged herself, and nodded.

Chloe gave Bruce's shoulder a squeeze. "We should get you out of here," she suggested. "There's a whole bunch of press outside, and while the prevailing opinion seems to be that they're not here for you? We can't take the chance of one of them recognising you. Especially not in your present emotional state. We should get you out of here."

 

[AmenRa]

"Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie as my face
Shell forgotten with its memories
Diaries left with cryptic entries
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go till it bleeds"


Var-Sen sighed quietly as he viewed the yellow sun over the Metropolis skyline. Something about the sun felt ominous to him. The words, "Dark forces were at work" came to mind. Of that he was sure, but why, who, or what he knew nothing about. And that was the source of his frustration.

He had lived on this world in peace for so long, as a human, with them. He knew, he felt it inside himself, that all of that was about to change.

He turned onto the exit road for the drive to Smallville.

- - -

At the same time, Lionel Luthor got into his corporate helicopter and prepared for the flight to Smallville. He wanted to be there with Lex to go into the Kawatche Cave.

- - -

Hundreds of light years from Earth, a black triangular shaped space craft made a mid-flight correction as it continued on its course.

 

[Superman1496]

The dam was broken, and they all knew. Bruce didn't even notice the press outside. His thoughts had been set on what was going on inside.

There's nothing to be sorry about Rose. Bruce said calmly, looking at her in the eyes.

You had no idea, who knows, maybe it is just a Welsh thing. I'm sorry for acting like this, it's just, when you said that... Bruce started. He didn't know what to say to finish it, but he figured he didn't have to.

Bruce tried to change his thought plans, and tried thinking of a way out of the school. How about through the cafeteria, out the back? Bruce asked, still dripping wet.

 

[Ithica]

"'Round here? 'Seeming normal' tends to just be a halftime show between being totally whack-ass twisted. Lesson one."

Selena turned to Pete and smirked at him. She quietly said, "Yeah, I'm starting catch on to that but I'm sure you'll be a wonderful teacher."

Selena didn't bother to wait for his reaction so that she could pay attention to what was going on. She was sure when Bruce said that he was going to be really blunt with the three of them, that didn't include her.

When Pete left her side to go to Rose, she looked around to make sure everyone was engulfed by the drama unfolding and waited for her moment... it came in the form of a large group of students heading towards the front doors. As they past her, she slipped into the middle of them.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe, and Pete

A movement caught the corner of Pete's eye, but by the time he looked it was gone. And so, it seemed, was Selena Kyle.

That's... he blinked, ...that's a damn good disappearing act. Giovanni Zatara couldn't've done it better himself.

He frowned softly at her departure, and while he briefly combed the crowd for the sight of her, he somehow knew he'd not find her again very easily.

Ah, well, he considered, returning a watchful eyes to white-as-a-sheet Rose McCrimmon. Nobody knew for sure she was doin' anythin' wrong. 'Sides, it's not like we don't know where she goes to class, right?

There was kind of a pang to the thought that she was gone, though.

She hadn't been... she hadn't been entirely unpretty. (Exaggeration. Girl had been fine.)

A cute smirk, and a wicked wit.

He'd been harbouring mushy stuff for Chloe for so long. Maybe he should consider his options? Maybe. Maybe maybe.

Chloe, meanwhile, the current object of Pete Ross' "mushy stuff," remained all-business.

She shook her head sharply. "Ordinarily, yeah," she explained in hurried, hushed tones, "the caf' would be our best bet. But right now there's still paramedics in there, and maybe a deputy or two. Looks like a Robert Rodriguez fight scene blew through there."

Pete harrumphed softly, coughed, cleared his throat, and as he did so he muttered, rapid-fire: "Hrrh-Thatwasme-hrrh!"

Chloe whipped her head around and grinned at him, grinned that pretty little grin, like she'd believed him all along, and Pete stood a little taller.

Selena who?

But then Chloe went back to business.

"My suggestion?" she implored. "Try heading out through the guys' locker room, instead, cutting across the football field to the maintenance shed. Once you're there?"

She held up a set of keys. "I borrowed these back from Earl before they made him get into one of the ambulances to get checked out at Smallville Medical Center. You can drive his truck around and hit the back roads, cross Elbow River at Loeb Bridge and then snake back around."

She paused, considered. "Can you drive? If not, Pete can maybe drive you. Rose and I'll stay here and check in for you with one of the sophomore homeroom teachers."

Pete sighed dismally, and chuckled. "Same ol' story," he lamented. "Hope you don't mind fertiliser, m'man."

Rose very wisely kept her lip buttoned.

Bruce had said it was okay. He'd said. But that still didn't totally set things right with her.

She felt aghast, and she was taking a minute to recover. She wondered that maybe she looked a little crazy right now...?

She could dry everyone off and fly Bruce out of here in a heartbeat. She even had a mental picture of him hanging onto her for dear life as she rocketed into the sky... 'Accio Firebolt!'

But should Rose even suggest it? They'd be picking her brain in Belle Reve before nightfall. And as soon as they found out she wasn't crazy, and instead she was right, they'd be dissecting her brain at Summerholt Neurological Institute before sunup the following day.

She wondered if Kyle could fly.

That could be a fun date. Flying together. She wondered if he could read her mind...

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"If I was trying to cause some trouble, I would have run into four or five teachers by now."
I had been searching for a while now with no faculty in sight. I was wet, aggravated, and if I wasn't as strong as I was I would have been flattened three times now. As it is, I had kept two kids from being ran over, and gotten the ROTC kids to go to the special ed room to get those kids out the front of the school until either some help or the principal took care of things.

Bouncing another kid off me I ducked into an open door and found myself in the gym. It was thankfully empty, but it was also a dead end.
Unless I went out the boys locker room.

I made my way into the locker room and threaded my way to the back, to find the door secured by a very thick chain. Not a problem. I never bothered turning the lights on so it was nice and dark already.

Shadows swirled around me and my body was infused with power as my armor wrapped around me. I could feel the sunlight on the other side of the door, so shifting to shadowform was out of the question. Guess I'm gonna have to do this the physical way. I concentrated, and my fingers formed into claws. Very sharp claws. Taking the chain in my hand I pulled back, cutting through the links and sending shards of steel clattering to the ground.

Thats also when I heard the gasp.

I dropped a field of darkness and moved outside into the street, then off to the field of corn next to the school, then released the field.
I needed to make my way home. If the media knew I was here, then whoever killed my parents may know too. I found a nice, convient shadetree and stepped into the shadows, & left Smallville High behind.

 

[Superman1496]

Well, I can drive, that's for sure. Bruce thought. He had his liscence, but Alfred insisted on taking him places. A gentleman's gentleman he always said.

The problem is, I don't know where everything is. I haven't been in Smallville that long. But I'm sure Pete could give me directions though. He said, looking at Pete with a small smile on his face.

I know it's pointless saying this, but if you two want out of here, I can get Alfred to excuse us. I'm sure the teachers wouldn't mind that we left, seeings as what has happened here. I'd be suprised if they actually continued the day. Bruce added. He glanced around to see how things were at the moment when he noticed something:

Selena was gone.

Bruce didn't see her leave, and didn't know how long she had been gone. He tried to just let it go, for he didn't have proof that she was actually doing something, but something in his stomach wouldn't allow him.

So what's the plan? Bruce asked.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Mikey

Michael hadn't been able to exactly make it back to The A/V Room.

There had been numerous incidents, not the least of which had been the sprinklers casting forth unholy torrents and forcing Michael to huddle in a locker to take shelter from the indoor storm.

Then some jerk had wandered past and shut the locker on him.

And that had been murder on his claustrophobia.

Fortunately, Michael had been in this situation before. Just as fortunately, the locker in question had a wire hanger crammed in the back, and he'd used the hanger to undo the latch on the locker by slithering it through the slits towards the top.

Feeling quite accomplished, Michael had then attempted to proceed through the-- by then drying --halls, back towards the front of the school.

A guy had walked into him-- not one of the usual bullies, but evidently a man on a mission --and while the guy hadn't looked that big from the outside, he was as tough as a M12 LRV Warthog and he had very nearly bowled Michael over.

Michael had decided then, right then, that enough was enough. He was tired of these mother-effing jerks on his mother-effing case, and that he was going to give this Warthog in particular a stern piece of his mind.

Brushing himself off, he followed the sunglasses-wearing juggernaut, followed him into the guys' locker rooms, all the while practising his speeches...

'Look, you're Kyle, right? I've seen you get picked on by Gradlow, and I know, I know, he's a jerk and a half, but that's no reason to take it out on the rest of us.'

Or:

'Hey, buddy? Could you do me a favour next time and watch where you're going? Thanks. I wouldn't want to have to BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH YOUR OWN HUBRIS!'

But then he rounded the corner, peering into the dark, and he froze like he'd been dipped in liquid nitrogen.

Because a figure was standing there, a figure born of the worst infernal planes of The Netherworld, a figure with exoskeletal armour and eyes of searing neon...

Michael could not make a sound. He couldn't... he couldn't... his mind was too busy exploding and imploding all at once.

This is a dream. This is a dream. It's some kind of hallucination brought on by sleep paralysis because I stayed up too late and snuck one of my dad's wine coolers and ohhhhh I really hope this is a dream.

And then The Beast sprouted claws and slashed right through a really sturdy looking chain and a gasp escaped Michael's mouth before he could stop it...

Dead man. Dead man. Deaddeaddead... The Ghost of Hallowe'en Yet To Come is going to turn around and he's going to swallow my soul and I'm just going to be a husk, a husk, a dried out corpsified husk.

But then? The Beast didn't even turn around, didn't even look to see who he was. He evidently considered Mere Mortals to be so insufficient a threat they were beneath his notice.

Instead, The Beast caused darkness to blossom about him like a shield, and then he was gone.

Michael stood still.

He didn't move. He couldn't move. He told himself he was waiting to see if the thing would come back, but really, really, he was rooted to the spot.

Then a muscle in his left leg twitched and he ran from that place like he had wings on his shoes. He found the A/V Room and he hid beneath a table and he hugged himself in a crouch and rocked himself slowly, gigglingly, until a short while later when teachers found him, mentally exhausted and asleep.

Upon waking, he was able to convince himself it had totally been a dream. Well, mostly. He hoped The Beast hadn't eaten Kyle Matthews.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe, and Pete

Pete nodded firmly. Bygones were bygones. They were way by gone.

"Sure," he nodded. "I'll run interference with you out to the truck, an' then? Mr. Jenkins always keeps a map in his glove compartment; you show me where you need to get, I'll show you a deft and circuitous route how to get there."

Chloe grinned. "You're in good hands, Bruce," she assured him. "Nobody knows the roads 'round here like Pete Ross."

She powered the camcorder back on and handed it to Rose.

"And?" she said, still talking to Bruce, "I thank you for the offer, but I would be remiss if I didn't lurk about sniffing for clues. While I'm at it, I'm going to break in the greenhorn getting man-on-the-street interviews with bystanders and eye-witnesses."

Rose nodded, grinning softly, recovering a little more colour in her cheeks when faced with a perfectly agreeably mundane everyday task. Something that didn't involve people's parents' dying, or principals undergoing psychotic breaks, or mysterious strangers with inexplicable agendas...

"I'm not broken in already?" she joked ruefully. "What's a girl got to do to beat the newbie rep around here?"

"A girl's gotta do man-on-the-street interviews," Chloe instructed, smirking.

Rose chuckled, nodded wearily, saluted, starting fiddling with the 'corder. "Ask a silly question..."

Chloe turned again to face Bruce.

"I guess the plan is," she murmured softly, "that you ditch to hide from tabloid buttwipes, get on safe home..."

(and at this, Chloe bit her lip, and scrunched her eyes, because for all her courage this part always got a little dicey and she didn't want to drive the boy off)

"...and you, uh, call me later? I'll text my number to your phone. You call me when you're good and safe?"

Pete shook his head, smiling faintly, and half-glanced out at the crowd to see if he could maybe maybe by some stretch of the imagination catch another glimpse of Selena.

Fiddling with the camcorder, Rose caught Pete's face square in the frame of her shot... and she saw that faint, faint smile. That... heartsore look. Unrequited.

She blinked, and she comprehended, and she didn't say a word. Her heart kind of went out to him, but she didn't say a word.

Instead, she turned her back, gave Pete his private moment alone and Bruce and Chloe their private moment together and she panned over the crowds to get a sense of the jumble of it all.

She shook the 'corder a little, for emphasis. The rumbling of footsteps.

Who knows? she remarked inwardly silently ironically. Scientist, reporter... maybe I'll win The Nobel Prize and The Pulitzer some year. And an Emmy for cinematography. (If all this secrecy doesn't kill me first.)

 

[Superman1496]

Chloe looked really shy when she asked him to call her later. Bruce just smiled and looked into her half-shut eyes. I'd love to call you. Bruce said.

Bruce's instincts almost killed him. She had done everything to help him out, and he didn't do much for her. He wanted to ask her for a hug before he left, but didn't want to scare her off. He had to stop himself from doing it.

Bruce took a breath, and then looked at Pete. Alright Pete, you ready? He asked. Oh, and Rose, keep your chin up. Chloe will take good care of you, and you'll do fine. Just, uh, don't mention me to the press, please? Bruce added to the red-head.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe, and Pete

Pete grinned, and clapped a fist downwards into his palm like he was playing a particularly emphatic game of "paper, scissors, stone."

"What," he winked, teasingly, "you never watched football movies on your fancy rich-kid TV? 'I was born ready.'"

Rose turned and glanced over her shoulder at him, and somehow she found herself blushing again, just little swatches of red beneath her eyes, and she simply nodded. "'Kay."

She was sorry she ever doubted him. She still wanted to ask her father about people's capacity to shapechange their own personalities, but... at his core, Bruce seemed about as unchanging as The Rock of Gibraltar. Steady.

"Bruce Wayne's eyes-onlies are zip-lipped," she assured him, with a soft little smile. "(At least as far as this reluctant blabbermouth is concerned.)"

Chloe reached out, and grabbed Bruce's hand, and pressed Earl's keys into his palm. (Sure, it was a nice excuse to hold his hand, but it was also efficacious! Best of both worlds...)

"G'wan, boys," she prompted. "Go. Git goin'! Don't get got."

She gave Bruce's hand a solid squeeze, and she smiled at him softly.

'You don't owe me a thing,' she seemed to say, with nothing but that soft smile and the glimmer of her eyes. 'Just be safe.'

And then, stopping herself before she could push herself up on her toes and plant one on his lips-- slowdownslowdownslowdown --she turned, and herded Rose off towards the teeming masses.

Pete's face was completely unreadable, but his eyes at least suggested determination. He had a job to do.

"Follow me," he suggested.

And off he ran.

 

[Superman1496]

Keys in hand, Bruce took off after Pete. At first, his mind was set on Chloe, but it soon switched to the problem at hand.

As they went down the hallway, Bruce caught a glimpse of the front of the school. Fire trucks and paparazzi were everywhere it seemed.

Pete, can you give me directions to the Kawachi caves? I think I'd rather head there first. Bruce asked.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Pete

Pete jutted his chin out as he hurried along and nodded.

"Hey, no accountin' for taste, I s'pose," he half-shrugged. "I got my fill earlier, but hey, knock yourself out. You know where Miller's Bend is?"

 

[Superman1496]

I do believe so, you might have to help me out. But I think I remember. Bruce said as they went.

When they got outside, Bruce realized something, he didn't know what the truck looked like at all. Uh, Pete?

 

[ChasNicollette]

Pete

It took a moment for Pete to realise that Bruce was talking to him.

He had half-expected to have to use Earl's keys to unlock the door to the field, as traditionally during school hours they kept them chained up. Series of incidents the previous year involving cleat theft and putting Tabasco sauce in the girls' soccer team's Gatorade...

But the chains were in pieces on the ground. Little diced-up pieces.

Like some dude with Adamantium fingernails had taken offence to the restraint of this particular doorway's freedom of movement.

"Whack-ass twisted," Pete muttered to himself, and nudged a link of the chain with the toe of his sneaker.

But then? Bruce's words registered and he followed hurriedly.

"Light blue number," he nodded. "Old Ford. Smells like the ninth circle of goat manure, but he takes pretty good care of it. Tires are a little splashy. Pulls to the left a bit. Should have a good chase sequence left in it, at least."

He jogged straight across the field, checking over his shoulder, still bothered by the thought that something had slashed that chain. Maybe someone had panicked when the alarms had gone off, taken a fire-axe to the thing.

And there, through a gate in a chain-link fence, was the maintenance shed. Parked in front of it was Earl's ride. Pete blew through the gate, jogged 'round the passenger side, popped open the glove box and pulled out the map.

He darted his eyes around, quickly checking to make sure that none of the bright boys in the news vans had had the notion to check the back entrances...

Just their luck, a news chopper'd show up, and they'd have one of those low-speed OJ things.

"Screw that," Pete muttered bluntly, "I am so not Al Cowlings."

Hurriedly, he unfolded the map, yanked a capped pen out of his pocket and used the pen as a pointer.

"Here," he suggested, holding up the map across the truck's hood for Bruce's perusal. "We've got the access road here, winding 'round to Crow Country Boulevard. Now, you got a straight shot out to Loeb Bridge 'long Ezra Small Avenue, but we wanna circumnavigate, right?

"To that end, my man," he explained, "hit Hobson Avenue, punch it to Siegel Drive, cut across Main Street by Smallville S&L, and then turn left and hook back up with Ezra from there. Now, easy on the lead foot 'round Main, there's like a deputy parked out by The Talon or The Beanery, like, twenty-four and seven."

He grinned. "You capisce all that?"

 

[Superman1496]

Yeah, I've got it, but you sound as if you aren't coming with me. You, uh, are coming with me, right? Bruce asked as he walked across the truck to the driver side and opened it up.

Pete was right, ninth circle goats.

Pete looked a little sidetracked. You coming, or what? Bruce asked as he stepped into the truck.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Pete

Pete grinned, and climbed aboard. He'd figured Bruce was gonna be his self-sufficient bad-ass brass-stoned self and pilot his own damn way out of the asteroid field. But cool, but cool. He could dig it.

He'd check in with The Master Planner later, maybe give her a shout-out when Bruce gave her a call.

"S'cool," he shook his head. "But just so y'know? I don't ride shotgun for just anybody."