Femme Fatale: Part Two

[lexalicious70]

*Three hours later, Hard Times Diner, Downtown Metropolis*

Clark sipped his coffee, his lips twisting a little at the slightly bitter flavor. It was two a.m., and the twenty-four hour diner was nearly deserted. Outside, a light rain fell, little more than a mist, and it fogged the scratched, steel-edged windows of the diner. Clark watched the abandoned sidewalks for the man he had come here to meet, but the only sounds outside were the light patter of the falling rain, and the hollow drips falling from the building’s gutter as they formed a puddle at the end of the building.

The waitress, looking as faded as the building itself, came over to Clark’s table and pulled a pencil from her upswept hairdo. “Anything else I can get for you, hon?” She asked with a sigh and a firecracker snap of her Trident, and Clark glanced up at her.

“Not right now, thanks. I’m just waiting for someone.”

The small cowbell over the diner door rattled, the noise startling in the near-silence, and the waitress glanced up as a tall, broad-shouldered man in a thick black wool overcoat came striding through the door. Clark looked up and closed his eyes in relief, and the waitress rolled her eyes briefly.

“Phah! It takes all kinds these days.” She watched as the tall, dark-haired man moved over to the table like an apparition. “Get you something?” She asked the newcomer, who sat down and shook his head.

“Nothing for me,” he replied in a voice that was low and slightly gravelly. The waitress nodded and left them alone at the corner table, and Bruce Wayne settled his overcoat around himself as he finally met Clark’s eyes. “Where’s Luthor?” He asked.

“Home. He . . . he took a sedative and finally fell asleep a few hours ago.” Clark picked up a packet of sugar substitute and tore at the edges. “He’s a wreck, Bruce. After he dressed in the clothes Lois gave him and looked in the mirror, he smashed the glass with a fireplace poker before I could stop him. He won’t let me touch him, either.”

“Of course he won’t. He’s inhabiting a body that’s not his own.” Bruce reached over and took the sugar packet from Clark’s big fingers, carefully wiping away the scattered sugar that had fallen onto the cracked Formica tabletop. “It’s something completely alien to him. Give him his space, Clark. He has to deal with this in his own way until we can find a way to change him back.”

“Do you think you can? You’ve analyzed the Joker’s chemicals in the past and found cures for them.”

Bruce frowned. “I have no way of knowing that until you bring Luthor to me and let me see exactly what’s happened to him.”

“I just told you that he won’t let me touch him! I’m his-” Clark lowered his voice as the waitress glanced over at their table from where she stood at the counter, wiping the faded surface with a spotted blue and white dishcloth. Clark lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “I’m his partner, and he’s treating me like I’m a stranger! How am I supposed to convince him to let you examine him?”

“Unless he wants to live as a woman the rest of his life, he doesn’t have a choice, and I think he’ll realize that.” Bruce stood, his overcoat swirling around his ankles. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a card, which he handed to Clark. “Bring Luthor to me at this address later today. I don’t care how you coerce him . . . hogtie him if you have to. Joker’s chemicals are highly unpredictable, and the sooner I can run some tests on him, the better.”

“Her,” Clark muttered, and Bruce’s dark brows drew inward.

“Her what?”

“She . . . her name is Jo. Lex made me choose a name for her. He said he couldn’t stand to hear his own name while so much of what made him Lex has been altered.”

Bruce nodded. “All right. Bring Jo to me in the morning, Clark.” Bruce rose, turned, and was gone in a flutter of moist wool. Clark laid five singles on the table-three for the three cups of coffee he’d drunk and two for a tip-and walked out into the mist a moment later.

***

When Clark returned to the penthouse, he found Jo curled up tightly on Lex’s side of the custom-made mattress of their big bed, her knees tucked almost to her chest, the duvet shoved down toward the end of the bed. As Clark got closer, he realized that she was wearing nothing but one of his plain white tees. It reached nearly to her knees, and she was wrapped up in it as if it were a blanket. The soft light from the Tiffany lamp in the corner cast a muted glow over Jo’s slender ivory arms. Clark slipped off his glasses, set them on his nightstand, and began to undress. He stripped down to his boxers and then climbed into bed. The duvet slid down a bit, and Clark leaned over to pull it up over them both. Jo moaned and twitched as the covers touched her, and Clark soothed her with a whisper.

“It’s okay, Jo. Shhh,” he murmured, and then rolled over onto his back as Jo quieted again. As the night wore on and the first purplish-grey signs of pre-dawn began to lighten the bedroom windows, Clark laid awake and turned Bruce’s words over in his mind. If the Joker’s chemicals were so unpredictable, would Lex change again? And if he did, into what? Clark squeezed his eyes shut against an image of Lex’s flesh running from his bones as he mutated into a shrieking mass of blood and tumors. As if seeing the same image, Jo suddenly cried out in her sleep, a brief, frightened yell, before she sat up in the bed, her legs still drawn to her chest. Her breasts heaved beneath Clark’s tee-shirt, and Clark reached out carefully to touch her shoulder.

“Jo? Hey . . .” He whispered, and Jo jerked away from the touch as if Clark’s fingertips were heated. Clark pulled his hand back and Jo clutched the duvet to her chest, hiding nipples that had gone taut and sharp with fright.

“You were dreaming,” Clark said, and Jo nodded.

“Yes, but I’m fine now.” Jo slipped out of the bed, and Clark swallowed a sudden surge of arousal as the white tee rode up to give a teasing view of Jo’s bare ass before she tugged it down again while heading to the bathroom. The toilet flushed, the sink ran, and then Jo reappeared in the doorway. She crossed the room and looked out one of the big windows that faced east.

“I think I have a possible solution to all of this, but you have to trust me,” Clark told her. Jo’s lean shoulders slumped slightly.

“You know that I do, Clark.”

“Then please come over here to me?” Clark held out his right hand. Jo looked at him over her shoulder, and then turned. The early light coming in through the window outlined her slim and curvaceous form through the thin tee, and Clark struggled with his body as it warmed and piqued. Jo saw the blush that heated Clark’s face and neck and froze where she stood, one slender foot extended, the other taking the body’s weight on the arch of her foot on the hardwood floor, the flash of her pulse at the base of her ivory throat quickening.

“You’re aroused,” she said. “I can see it.”

“You said you trusted me. I can’t help my body’s reactions. Despite everything that’s happened, it knows that it’s still you in there. Please?” Clark kept his hand extended. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen today.”

“You won’t touch me?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.” Clark dropped his hand. After a moment, Jo approached him and sat down on the bed, out of arm’s reach.

“So, what’s this idea of yours?”

“While you were sleeping, I went out and I met with someone who I know can help us, who’s dealt with the Joker’s chemicals before. He said if you’re willing to let him examine you and run some tests, maybe he can change you back.”

Jo’s jaw clenched. “Tests?”

Clark nodded. “Tests that might reveal how to reverse this.”

“Who is it?” Softly.

“Bruce,” Clark replied, and Jo turned her head.

“Bruce Wayne? Clark, are you out of your mind? He’s madder than the Joker! I know; I went to school with him! Do you have any idea what seeing his parents murdered did to him?”

Clark nodded. “I’ve worked with him. And yes, he’s a little intense, but-”

“Intense! He lives in a cavernous mansion with a real cavern underground, a place full of rabid bats!”

“Well yeah, but-”

“His only companion is an eighty year old man who used to change his diapers!”

“I know-”

“His idea of working with someone is glancing at his own reflection in the rearview mirror of the Bat-car before he gets out!”

“Maybe that’s true, but-”

“Forget it, Clark!” Jo stood and marched to the other side of the room, her color high, her lips pursed. Clark’s eyes narrowed slightly and he rose to his full height. He approached Jo, whose angry, stubborn expression melted into uncertainty as Clark strode over to her. She reached one hand back to steady herself on the dresser and Clark sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“I’m not going to hurt you. You know that! But this is important! No matter what you think of Bruce, he’s a scientist and he’s cracked the Joker’s codes before! Do you want to put your trust in him, or live as a woman for the rest of your life?”

Jo’s jaw clenched again and her nostrils flared. “You’ll be there? While he does these tests?”
Clark nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t let you go through this alone.” Clark stepped forward to embrace her, but Jo slipped away out of his reach.

“Quit running from me, Jo.”

“I’m not running.” Jo picked through her meager selection of clothing, her nose wrinkling in displeasure before she picked out a pair of blue jeans and a simple soft blue pullover.

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” Clark asked softly. Jo turned, the bundle of clothes held closely to her chest.

“Do you have any idea what this is like for me? To have this body? To have mine taken from me and made into . . . this?” She stepped into the sneakers Lois had given them. “Why would you even want to touch me? I’ve been mutated!”

Clark dressed in fresh clothes and took his hairbrush into the bathroom to comb his hair. The shattered mirror in the bedroom had been taken away, but it had yet to be replaced. As he tamed his dark curls into place, Jo fumed behind him, her color still high, her arms tightly folded over her breasts.

“Well?”

“You’ve been changed, yes. But that doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” Clark set the brush down and brushed his teeth. Once finished, he flicked the lights off. “Come on. Bruce says the sooner we do this, the better.”

***

The Bat Cave, four hours later

Bruce glanced up at the MRI scan of Jo’s body as he worked at the central computer that curved around one side of the cave. Other images, some of Jo’s brain, muscular structure and central nervous system glowed on the other screens as Bruce keyed in chemical formulas and mathematical queries. Nearby, Jo lay quiet on a padded metal table, a crisp white sheet covering her nude body up to her breasts. Clark stood next to her, watching information scroll across the screen as Bruce typed feverishly. The printer spit a paper out to Bruce’s right a moment later, and he glanced at it before rising and going to a nearby drawer, where he withdrew a vial, a length of rubber tubing, and a hypodermic needle. Jo’s muscles tensed as he approached.

“Hold out your left arm,” Bruce said as he set the items on a small metal pan that sat atop a rolling cart.

“What for?” Jo asked, and Bruce pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves.

“I need a blood sample in order to analyze the chemicals in your blood.”

“I don’t like needles.” Jo scowled.

“What do you dislike more? Needles, or mutating into something much more undesirable than the woman you are now in the next twenty-four hours?”

Clark frowned. “Bruce, that’s-”

“You were an arrogant ass when we were kids, and you’re still an arrogant ass now, Bruce!” Jo held out her arm stiffly, and Bruce tied the rubber tubing just above her inner elbow.

“Likewise.”

“Try and relax,” Clark told her. Bruce tapped the bluish vein that rose against Jo’s pale skin and then picked up the needle. Jo gave a soft groan and turned her face away. Clark reached out and touched her shoulder, and the smooth skin there shuddered. “It’s okay . . . hang on, it’ll be quick.”

Jo gritted her teeth as the vial attached to the end of the needle filled with blood, and her face went milk-white. Finally, Bruce released the tubing and pressed a small round bandage to the hole. Jo opened her eyes and glared.

“Damn you, that hurt!”

“You came to me, remember? So suck it up, Luthor.”

Jo sat up and clutched the sheet to her chest as Bruce took the blood over to another piece of equipment.

“I only agreed to this because Clark said it was the only way!”

“It may very well be,” Bruce replied as he turned back to the pair. “So before we run out of time, I suggest you be a bit more cooperative.” Bruce walked back over to the table and reached underneath it to slide out two long black poles that ended in padded cups and were attached to the table by bolts on either side. He swung the poles apart and then donned fresh gloves.

“Put your heels in the cups, bend your knees, and bring your buttocks to the edge of the table.”

Jo eyed the cups. “For what?”

“I need a pap smear.”

A jagged laugh escaped the bald woman. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Would you rather I strap your hands and waist to the table and take it that way? Because the results will be the same, only much more humiliating.”

“And you think you doing . . . touching . . . won’t be humiliating?”

“Women have pap smears and breast exams for their health, Lex. This isn’t a date.”

“My name is Jo!” She swung her feet off the table, and Bruce put a hand on her shoulder.

“Your name is Lex, and in there somewhere is your male body, which I can help you get back if you’ll do as I say instead of being an impossible, pigheaded bitch.”

Clark’s eyes widened at the insult and in tandem, Jo’s eyes narrowed. Her left hand swung, but Clark was faster. He caught her wrist before her open hand could strike Bruce’s face. The big man didn’t even flinch.

“Nice catch,” he intoned, and pushed Jo flat. Jo turned her head and tried to bite him, but Bruce moved away. He grasped her ankles and swung her legs back up onto the table. “Help me, Clark. Hold her down. I don’t want to bind her.”

“Enough of this! Enough, I said! Clark, don’t you dare touch me!” Jo screamed, and Clark flinched.

“Bruce, maybe . . .”

“We don’t have a choice. You know it as well as I do, Clark. It’s necessary for the chemical analysis. The tissue there is alien, molded by a chemical reaction that I have to study if I’m going to reverse this!”

“I can’t hurt her!” Clark answered, his big hands level with his chest, palms out. Jo tried to rise again and Bruce cursed loudly. As Clark backed off a few steps, Bruce picked up another needle from the table and reached out faster than Clark ever would have expected a human to move. His big hand clamped firmly around Jo’s wrist, and pulled her arm stiff. Jo turned her head, and Bruce plunged the needle into her inner elbow, just above where he’d taken the blood sample. Jo stared up at him, her eyes registering a kind of stunned disbelief before the fire in them went out and she went limp. Bruce pulled the needle out and slipped an arm around her shoulders. She moaned, and Bruce eased her back onto the table.

“Sorry, Lex. You gave me little choice.”

“Jo?” Clark put a hand on the woman’s slender shoulder, but the muscles had gone slack. He looked up at Bruce, who had already quickly and efficiently taken the sample and was back at his machines. “You didn’t have to do that! I could have talked her into it if you had given me some time!” He reached forward and gently pulled Jo’s heels from the cups and laid her legs flat on the table again.

“That’s what you don’t understand, Clark. There is no time.” Bruce made some more calculations.

“You don’t know that! You don’t know what the chemicals did yet!” Clark argued, and Bruce glanced up.

“Do you want Lex to stay this way? Maybe you’re happier with him in this body. Maybe you’ve considered that with him as a woman, people might accept your relationship with Jo much easier than they ever would have with Lex. After all, you have to hide that all time.”

“We don’t hide anything! We . . . just can’t tell anyone. Not everyone in this world is tolerant, Bruce!”

“But they’d be tolerant of Jo, wouldn’t they. You could buy her a nice wig . . . something reddish, maybe. Tell people Lex is dead, start your lives over.” Bruce wrote some figures down, ignoring the way Clark’s massive fists clenched.

“I came to you to see if you could help! If I wanted Lex to stay this way, I wouldn’t be here!”

“Exactly.” Bruce fed some information into the computer. “So that means when I tell you we don’t have much time, you have to listen to me and do exactly as I say. I drugged Lex because there’s no time for gentleness, Clark. And believe me-” Bruce held up a hand as Clark opened his mouth to protest. “I know all about why Lex is afraid of needles, doctors, and tests. His father was very, very interested in how the meteor shower he was trapped in when he was nine affected his mind and body. And then of course there were the eyebrow and eyelash implants, which I imagine were agonizing for a boy of nine.” Bruce glanced down at the unconscious woman. “I didn’t want to hurt her, Clark. But we have to move swiftly.”

Clark shook his head. “That doesn’t mean you have to traumatize her any more than she already has been, damn it! You don’t understand what she’s going through! We have to make time to consider her because otherwise-”

“No.”

“What?” Clark rounded the table and stalked over to the computer. “What do you mean, no? You stubborn son of a bitch! She’s-”

“Dying,” Bruce cut in, and shoved a readout into Clark’s hands. “According to this, the cells that formed the female skin and tissue will continue to mutate, as I predicted. It might have happened already, if not for Lex’s healing ability. But that’s only slowing the process, Clark. The chemical cells will start attacking the healthy cells left in Lex’s body very soon. Eventually, it’ll cause a massive circulatory collapse, his lungs will fail, and he’ll die of either cardiac arrest, or of respiratory failure.”

“No.” Clark scanned the paper. “No, you must have made a mistake. This is wrong!”

“It’s not wrong.” Bruce’s bright blue eyes stared into Clark’s green ones, keeping nothing secret.

Clark shook his head slowly, and then slammed the paper down on the computer console as he ran up the stairs. His voice echoed back over his shoulder.

“I’m going to find the Joker!”

“Clark! Wait!” Bruce pushed his dark hair back with both hands. “Damn it!” He chased Clark up the stairs and hoped the younger man didn’t decide to kick into super-speed and leave him in the dust before he had the chance to reason with him.

Twenty minutes later, Jo moaned and stirred. She struggled to sit up before her eyes were even fully open. She looked around blearily.

“Clark?” She called weakly, and swung her feet off the table. “Bruce?” Her voice echoed through the cavernous place and she glanced up at the shadowy forms that hung like shapeless blobs of ink from the ceiling. She shuddered and wrapped the sheet tightly around her. Thanks to the healing abilities the meteors had given Lex, the drug that Bruce had administered was already wearing off. Jo paced the cave slowly, and then walked over to the computer console. Her eyes scanned the images still present on the screens there. The paper abandoned on the console caught her attention and she picked it up. Upon examining it, Jo saw the results of Bruce’s tests were clear, and left little room for argument. Jo’s eyes closed briefly, and then she laid the paper down. As she went about gathering her clothes and dressing, Bruce’s voice drifted down from the top of the stairs.

“You can’t go alone. You have to wait for me.”

Clark’s voice, clipped, replied, “You just got done telling me how we didn’t have time to wait! Whatever you can come up with will take too long, and the Joker is the only one who knows how to reverse this otherwise!”

“That doesn’t mean you can run off to face him on your own, Clark. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I know enough!”

“Don’t be a fool! What good will you be to Lex if you charge into this before you think, and get yourself killed?”

“I’m invulnerable, Bruce! But the Joker isn’t, and he’s going to tell me what I need to know, or I’m going to wring it out of him with my bare hands!”

The voices faded a bit as Clark and Bruce moved their argument of range, and Jo crept up the stairs to the main part of the house. In Bruce’s study, she caught a glimpse of each man’s profile as they continued to argue about who knew the Joker better. Jo slipped past the doorway and down the hall. There were sounds in the lobby near the front door, and Jo knew that Bruce’s manservant, Alfred, was vigilant about confronting people who came and went, depending on Bruce’s instructions. After a quick glance to confirm she was on the first floor of the mansion, Jo boosted herself out a window from the big sitting room to her left. She stumbled upon hitting the ground.

“Come on. Get it together . . . it’s just the drug, you can do this,” she muttered to herself, and moved across the lawn. Moments later she fought her way through some hedges and was hurrying down the road, her thumb cocked out, hoping to hitch a ride back to Metropolis, and to the Joker.

***

“I’m terribly sorry, Master Bruce. I was dusting the chandelier in the lobby where I was sure I’d be able to see anyone come and go. The young lady must have slipped out another way.” The elderly butler wrung his polishing cloth in his liver-spotted hands as he spoke.

“It’s all right, Alfred. That young lady has an IQ close to two hundred, and is damn sneaky to boot.” Bruce turned to Clark, who folded his arms over his chest.

“You said the drug would keep her under for at least four hours!”

“I suppose I should have taken the healing abilities into account when I made that calculation. But even so, you wouldn’t let me strap her down,” Bruce replied, and Clark snorted.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t performing surgery on her!”

“Are we going to stand here and blame each other about who allowed her to leave, or are we going to find her?”

“We’ve been up here for over two hours. That’s plenty of time for a woman of Jo’s intellect to find a way to get back to Metropolis.”

“We have to find her quickly,” Bruce said as he glanced at his black and silver multi-function watch. “She doesn’t have much time left.”

***

Downtown Metropolis near the south side of the bay smelled like sun-dried seaweed, diesel oil, and stagnant water. The north side of the bay boasted high-rise condos and, nestled in between them, the Metropolis Yacht and Country Club, but here, at the south side, a mix of industry and indigents had turned the docks into a grey misery where few of the city’s citizens dared to tread.
It was the last place one would expect to find a woman wandering alone; especially a woman who walked so carefully, trying to mask that she was weak, easy prey.

Jo coughed lightly into her fist and shivered. The blue pullover did little to ease the chills she had begun to feel over the last hour, and she knew that the trembling sensation in her legs and thighs had little to do with fear. What Bruce’s medical results had indicated had begun. Her own body was a time bomb, and in less than a few hours, it would explode from within in a ruin of failed organs and blood that would turn to slush in her veins.

And in the meantime, she thought, those two fools are back in Gotham, arguing over a future I don’t even have.

She coughed again and trudged on, clasping her arms across her chest to ward off more chills. She knew from experience that many of the city’s thugs hung out at the south-side docks, and that perhaps she could persuade one of them to lead her to the Joker. She didn’t have to wait long; a big man with hairy, orangutan arms and a neck scrolled with tattoos stepped out from behind one of the storage sheds that lined the docks. A dirty orange wool cap covered his head. Grey, scraggly hair hung down from underneath it like dusty cobwebs. He grinned at her with teeth that were brown with tobacco and neglect.

“You lost, sugar?”

“I’m looking for someone, and it would be extremely profitable for you if you could tell me where to find him.”

The man approached her. “You don’t need no other man. I’m here, and I’ll give you just what you need. Ayuh . . . give it to you good.”

Jo chuckled softly and rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “Look . . . I’m sure under other circumstances, I’d probably be terrified by your implication but really . . . I just don’t have time to play. I have a great deal of money, and I need to find the Joker.”

“Show me your tits, sugar, and maybe I’ll tell you.” The man’s huge manacle of a hand clamped over Jo’s right wrist and pulled her bodily into the thug’s grasp. His other hand quested up her shirt, and Jo fought nausea that had little to do with her terminal condition.

“Get your hands off me!” She struggled in his grip, and the big man laughed as she punched at his arms. The hand squeezing her breasts then dipped into her jeans, and Jo bit back a scream as she continued to struggle.

“Get your hands off my chum, chum!” A jovial voice cut the air, a voice that had a deep undercurrent of madness to it. Jo looked up over the big man’s shoulder to see the Joker standing behind them. The thug barely had time to register the villain’s presence before a thin, gleaming spike shot out from a plastic green daisy pinned to his coat. It pierced the man’s neck like a roasting fork carving through a turkey, and then retracted. The Joker took Jo’s hand as the thug fell to the ground, his life bleeding away through the hole in his neck. “Now that’s odd!” The Joker capered and glanced down at the daisy. “It usually blooms in the early mornings! Oh well!” He gave his mad giggle and swung Jo around briefly by her hands, and she tried to struggle away.

“Let go!”

“I wish I could, Lexie old kid, but see, I knew you’d come looking for me. It’s all part of my plan.”

“I don’t care about your plan! I want the antidote! Change me back, damn you!”

“What did Supsie think of the new you? Did something in his tights turn to steel?”

Jo flushed and tried to slap the criminal, but he grabbed her hand as the smile bled from his features. “Ah ah . . . that’s not very ladylike!” He pulled her close until they were nearly nose to nose. “I knew you’d come looking for me. I knew you’d figure it out . . . and that once you did and came looking for me on your own, Superman would be right behind you. And this time, I’m ready for him.”

The blood drained from Jo’s face. “No. I won’t let you use me as bait!”

“Chum. If I redden Supsie’s waters with your blood, he’ll come racing to save you. And when he does, it’s lights out for the Man of Steel.” The Joker pulled a thin valise from his coat and flicked it open. Inside, a hypodermic needle glowed green. “If you think my chemicals turned you inside out, Lex, just wait until you see what this does to your super-lover!”

“Leave him out of this! I’ll pay you whatever you want! Millions!” Jo bargained, and the Joker pulled a pistol from his trousers.

“I don’t want money, kiddo. I want to see Superman’s face when you turn to jelly. After that, he’s going to beg for me to destroy him!”

He struck Jo on the base of her skull with the butt of the gun, and she went limp in his arms. The Joker grinned.

“It’s play time.”

***

The elongated shadow of a tall figure clad in black swooped over the rooftops of Metropolis, melding with another shadow that moved with the graceful fluidity of an airborne creature. A crescent moon was rising in the distance, a thin whitish blue smile in the night that seemed to mock the two figures as they hurried along.

“Why didn’t you tell me and Alfred that you’d injected Jo with a homing device when you drugged her earlier?” Clark, in his Superman costume, turned his head to look at Bruce, whose face was mostly covered with the cowl of his Batman costume. Only the strong chin and grim mouth was visible.

“Because I needed to give myself time.”

“Time for what? You’ve been telling me all day that there’s no time for anything!”

“Why else would I have kept you upstairs all that time?”

Clark’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, Bruce?”

“Clark, I’m a scientist and a detective. Did you honestly think I didn’t take Lex’s healing abilities into account when I gave him that drug?”

Clark came to a halt on the roof of a high-rise apartment building, his boot heels thudding down on the concrete. “What are you getting at? Are you telling me that you planned on Jo escaping?”

“Escaping, and running right back here. I could tell by the way you were acting in the cave that you’d never let me use her as bait to draw out the Joker. I knew that if I gave Lex a way out, he’d bolt and come looking for the Joker on his own. It’s the way he’s always done things. He never waits for anyone to solve his problems for him.”

Clark shook his head slowly. “I don’t believe you. I came to you for help, and you let Jo leave our protection, knowing that she’s dying?”

“Think carefully about this, Clark. The Joker is mad, but he’s not foolish. He did this to Lex knowing full well what would eventually happen, and he also knows about the two of you. While he does sometimes kill indiscriminately, that wasn’t his intent this time. He knew that eventually, Lex would return to bribe him for a cure, and when he did, you wouldn’t be far behind. Yes, I let Lex leave knowing that he’s dying, but I also knew this was the fastest way to get to the Joker. You or I could never have found him in time if I had forced Lex to stay in the cave.”

Clark fists loosened slowly. “So you think I’m being set up.”

“Knowing the Joker, I’m sure of it.” Bruce looked down at the mini-GPS tracker in his gloved hand.

“He’s got her at the abandoned hotel. On the roof.”

Clark took flight and headed west toward the hotel with Batman swinging close behind. In the distance, thunderheads lit up from the inside and moved closer to the city.

On the roof of the abandoned Marquee Hotel, the Joker shrieked laughter and capered around his victim as lightning lit up the wild sheen in his eyes. Jo was lashed tightly upside down to a discarded metal bed frame, spread-eagled and nude. From the empty flagpole nearby, a small bottle of reddish-green liquid chattered in the rising wind as it dangled from a thin metal clamp over the sidewalk twenty stories down. Jo watched the Joker dance, the gleeful form blurred and distorted. He turned toward her again, and Jo tried to turn her head. The Joker grabbed her chin and looked into her eyes. “Your flyboy should be here any minute. I do hope he hurries. After all, you’ve only got about thirty minutes left to live. It’s a pity, too . . . with a little hair, you’d make a fine catch! I’m sure you regret pushing him away now, knowing what you know. Poor Lex . . . you’re going to die in a virgin body. Unless of course . . .” The Joker’s gloved hands spread out over Jo’s breasts and then toyed with her pinkish-brown nipples. Her hands twitched.

“No . . . no . . .”

“Oh come on! What’s a little fondle between old friends?”

Fingers dipped between her spread legs and Jo bit back a gasp. Her limbs had gone numb and useless twenty minutes ago, and now that same numbness was creeping into her mind.

Clark . . . she thought, using the last of her facilities to keep the name from passing through her lips. While Jo had no problem dying for Clark, she certainly had no intentions of failing him while she did so. Thunder rolled out, closer than before, and then the sound took the shape of words, booming out over the roll like an angry pagan god roaring down from his throne at a quaking mortal.

“Get your filthy damned hands off her!”

The Joker looked up to see Superman barreling down on him, but then frowned as he caught a glimpse of the dark figure behind him. “Batman! That’s not fair! I didn’t bring a playmate!” He pulled the valise from his coat as he ducked the Superhero’s grasp. “Careful, Superman! See that little bottle?” The Joker pointed at the bottle suspended by the small metal manacle from the flagpole. “It’s the antidote . . . and that’s all there is. So if it falls, your bald bombshell turns to mush!” He held up the remote that controlled the manacle. “I push the button, and down it goes.” His terrible smile stretched widely. “Now come to me, Superman.”

“No . . . no . . . get out of here . . . he’ll kill . . . you,” Jo moaned, and Superman landed lightly in front of the Joker.

“Give Lex the antidote, and then I’ll submit to whatever sick game you have planned!”

“No!” Jo moaned again, and the Joker scowled at her.

“Women! Always butting in to a man’s business, eh Supsie?” The Joker withdrew the glowing green needle from its case, and Superman grit his teeth as his muscles bunched and cramped, and his stomach began to churn with nausea. The Joker turned to Batman, who stood on the ledge of the roof to his left. “Don’t move, Bats! You can’t get to them both, and you know it!”

“Antidote . . . hurry. . . she’ll die,” Superman gasped, his eyes flicking to Bruce, but the Batman’s eyes were unreadable white opaque slits as he crouched there, still as a rooftop statue. Jo coughed up a fine spray of blood as her breathing began to quicken and hitch. Clark gritted his teeth.

Damn you, Bruce, help her! He thought, and looked up at the glowing green needle in the Joker’s hand, illuminated by lightning. A stiff breeze came up, snapping Clark’s cape out behind him. The Joker reached out and forced him to both knees, the needle in one hand and the remote in the other. A mad giggle rose from his throat.

“Now . . . bow down.”

Clark closed his eyes and began to bow down when a metallic whine cut the air. The Joker yelled out in pain as a bat-a-rang struck the hand that held the needle, and the glowing green thing spun up into the sky and over the edge of the roof, where it vanished into the night. The Joker turn on Batman with a furious sneer, and his thumb hit the release button on the remote before Clark could recover.

“No!” Clark cried as the manacle released the bottle of antidote and it went plummeting down after the needle. The skies opened up all at once as Batman launched another Bat-a-rang. It hit the antidote bottle and sent it spiraling upwards just as Clark launched himself at it. The bottle struck Clark’s chest and shattered, and the Joker shrieked laughter at the sight.

“Ooops! Butterfingers!” The laughing countenance then became a death mask as the Joker pulled a curved blade from his jacket and turned on Jo. “Batman may have saved your lover, hot-lips, but your time is up!”

“Lex!” Clark turned in midair and barreled down on the Joker as the dagger sliced in a wicked arc toward Jo’s naked chest. In that moment, Jo’s eyes locked with Clark’s, and as time slowed to a crawl in Clark’s super-speed perspective, Jo’s blood-frothed lips formed silent words.

Love you, Clark.

“No! Lex! Hang on, hang on!” Rain plastered Clark’s dark curls to his head as he dove on top of the metal bed frame, letting the edges take his weight. The metal there buckled and warped as his fists curled around it, and the front of his uniform pressed up against Jo’s dying body. The Joker’s knife struck the unyielding wall of Clark’s back, and from the heavens, a bolt of lightning sizzled down and struck the frame. Bluish-white arcs of electric contact danced around the three figures, and the Joker was thrown backwards, over the edge of the roof. He screamed as he fell, and then one of Batman’s cables wrapped around his arms and chest to stop his fall. He hung there, moaning, his clothes blackened, as Batman secured the other end to the flagpole. Once Bruce was sure the Joker wasn’t going anywhere but fifteen stories down if he tried to escape, he ran over to where Clark lay motionless on top of the bed frame, his cape still smoldering.

“Superman!” Bruce called, mindful not to speak his friend’s real name. “Are you all right?” He grasped one of Clark’s broad shoulders with his gauntlet glove, strong enough to withstand any electric shock, and carefully turned his friend over. Clark sprawled onto the concrete, stunned, his face wet with rain. Bruce knelt next to him.

“Superman,” he said loudly and firmly. “Wake up! Come on, snap out of it!”

Clark’s eyelids fluttered open and he groaned softly before recollection filled his green eyes, and he sat upright all at once.

“Lex!” He gasped, and Bruce grabbed his shoulder.

“No. Don’t look. It’s too late for-”

Clark shoved Bruce backwards, his hands clenching into fists.

“I told you to get the antidote! To save Lex! Instead, you saved me and now it’s too late!” Clark pulled Bruce up and off his feet. Tears and rain ran down his face. “What the hell am I supposed to live for now that you’ve killed Lex?”

“For . . . the love of . . . God. Are you . . . two . . . still arguing?”

The weak voice that spoke from behind them froze Clark for nearly ten seconds before he set Bruce down and turned around. Lex was looking up at them through the rain. His nude body was no longer curvaceous and feminine, but lean and muscular and most definitely male once more. Clark’s mouth dropped open as he stared, and Lex cleared his throat.

“I understand your disbelief, but if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate you getting me out of this thing.”

Clark blinked and then nodded as he crouched down next to the bed frame.

“Of course, yeah, sorry!” Clark crushed the manacles that bound Lex’s wrists and ankles, and then wrapped an arm around his waist as he helped him down from his inverted position. Lex shivered, and Clark wrapped his partner in his cape once again. Bruce stood over them.

“Are you all right?” He asked, and Lex nodded. He looked down at his chest, where some of the purplish-pink solution was melting in the rain. Some of it was similarly smeared across the front of Clark’s uniform, and Bruce nodded.

“The trace elements of the antidote must have been triggered into a chemical reaction by the lightning strike.”

“And the Joker?” Lex asked. Bruce motioned to the cable that hung suspended from the flag pole.

“I’ll make sure he gets back to Arkham where he belongs.”

Clark helped Lex to his feet and then looked over at Bruce.

“What I said before. I’m-”

“Don’t worry about it. Get him home and in front of a warm fire. I’ve got a delivery to make back in Gotham.” The dark figure was gone a moment later off the rooftop, and then vanished into the night.

“He’s a man of precious few words, isn’t he,” Lex chuckled weakly, and Clark lifted Lex into his arms.

“Few words, but lots of actions. Come on, let’s go home.” Clark launched himself gently off the rooftop and headed west, toward their penthouse. Lex allowed himself the luxury of letting his head fall against Clark’s shoulder as his partner’s strong arms cradled him, the rain and wind cleansing his body of the Joker’s touch.

***
Two days later

Lex sat in front of the fireplace in the living room of the apartment that he and Clark shared, partaking in a cup of ginger spice tea and the morning edition of the Daily Planet. He glanced up as Clark came in with a white cardboard box full of crullers and a cardboard carafe of coffee from the café across the street.

“Hey.” Clark smiled widely and crossed the room to lean over and give Lex a long, tender kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“Much improved, thanks to the fact that I heal quickly.”

“Bruce said it was the only thing that saved you from dying sooner than you did,” Clark said as he set the box and carafe down on the table nearby.

“Did he?” Lex closed the paper and folded it before setting it aside. The morning headline read, "Batman Spotted in Metropolis, Apprehends Joker: Criminal Menace Returned to Arkham Asylum."

“Yeah.” Clark crouched down by the chair and put a hand on Lex’s arm. “You know that everything Bruce did, he did to help us.”

“Even though that meant drugging me, touching me without my consent, and allowing me to become bait so that he could recapture the Joker?”

“Lex, if you’re going to blame anyone, blame me! I asked Bruce for his help!”

“Actually, Clark, I have no one but myself to blame. I slipped up and allowed the Joker to discover that I was working for you. If anything had happened to you, it would have been my fault.” He folded his hands neatly into his lap. “Perhaps I should leave crime-busting up to you.”

“You were trying to help!”

“And I nearly got us both killed.”

“Lex-”

“Pay me no mind. I suppose I’m still stinging from the humiliation of having to wear Lois Lane’s hand-me-downs.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Only because you made her. Had you not, I would have been the morning headline.”

Clark stroked Lex’s arm gently. “Lois has always kept our secret.”

“I know.” Lex nodded, and then looked up at Clark. “Did you find me more attractive when I was Jo?”

“What?” Clark blinked. “Lex! What kind of question is that?”

“A valid one. I saw the way you looked at me, and I know that perhaps things would be easier if I were a woman. We wouldn’t have to hide what we are to people.”

Clark rose and pulled Lex gently to his feet.

“Do you honestly think that I came to Metropolis with you because I thought it would be easy? That I would bail on you because we’re not allowed to be a hundred percent honest with everyone we meet?” He took both of Lex’s hands. “The way I see it, we’re not hiding from anyone. It’s not about hiding. It’s about who deserves to know the truth.”

Lex’s blue-grey eyes widened for a moment, and then he began to chuckle. “That’s inarguably logical, Clark. You’ve been under my influence too long.”

“It could never be too long,” Clark murmured, and tugged Lex into a kiss. Lex sighed and slipped his arms around his lover’s solid form, basking in his heat, his scent.

“I know I was difficult when I was . . . changed.”

Clark nodded at the Lex-style apology. “You were. In fact, you were a real bitch a lot of the time.”

“I would think you’d be used to that,” Lex grinned as he pressed himself up against Clark’s thigh. Clark grinned back.

“Okay . . . more of a bitch than usual.”

“I was unsure of what was going to happen. And I felt like I was trapped in the body of a stranger.” Lex looked away. “It was why I couldn’t let you touch me, Clark. That skin, that body? It wasn’t mine. It was . . .”

“Alien?” Clark asked quietly, and Lex shook his head as he rested his forehead against Clark’s broad chest.

“No. You know that’s not it. I couldn’t let you touch me because whatever I’d become, the Joker had made. It was something perverted and twisted and dirty. I couldn’t let that become a part of our history. I had no choice but to push you away.”

“Even if you had stayed that way, Lex . . . been Jo the rest of your life? I wouldn’t have let it destroy us. Because nothing can. Not hateful people, not the press, not the Joker.” He cupped Lex’s chin and tilted his head up to look him in the eyes. “Remember what you promised me all those years ago?”

Lex nodded and smiled. “I remember. The stuff of legends.”

“Yeah.” Clark grinned and kissed him. “Oh! I almost forgot, this was in our mailbox.” He handed Lex a white envelope with both their names on it. Lex opened it with a letter opened and unfolded the embossed card within.

“What is it?”

“It appears that we’ve been invited to Wayne Manor for dinner this evening.”

“Really?” Clark looked over Lex’s shoulder at the invitation. Lex nodded and handed Clark the handwritten note that was tucked into the card.

Clark:

It occurred to me that you saw precious little of my home the last time you were here, and Lex saw even less of it. If you both accept my invitation, I can guarantee that the main course will not include any kind of medical procedures; instead, what I can promise is a fine bottle of Merlot and civil conversation. Dinner is promptly at eight; I hope to see you both.

Best Regards,

Bruce.

“A complete lack of medical procedures and a good bottle of Merlot?” Clark smiled down at Lex, his big hands squeezing Lex’s shoulders and then tracing up and down the lean, toned back. “How can we possibly refuse?”

Lex chuckled and slipped the invitation into the breast pocket of Clark’s shirt.

“How indeed.”

THE END

Missed part one? This way! http://lexalicious70.livejournal.com/92107.html