Fic: The Crazy F'ed Up Life of Conner Kent (10/?)
Title: The Crazy F'ed Up Life of Conner Kent
Chapter Nine: In Which Conner Makes a Lot of Phone Calls
*~*~*~*~*~*
When Conner got home from school the next Tuesday, there was a notice on the door of his Dad’s apartment. Conner pulled it off and absently began reading it as he walked inside and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Blah, blah, blah, termites.., blah, blah, blah, fumigation… blah, blah, blah, find alternative accommodations. Huh.” That was weird. Conner hadn’t noticed any termites around or termite damage or anything, and he didn’t think his Dad had either. You’d think one of them would have seen something if it was bad enough that everyone was being made to leave so they could fumigate the place.
Wait a second…
Conner whipped out his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
“Lois Lane.”
“Is this my cue?” Conner asked.
“Why yes Conner, your dad is away from his desk right now, so feel free to blatantly discuss our plan to manipulate him into hooking up with the guy he supposedly couldn’t stand less than a year ago.”
“Well, it’s not like he would have known that’s what we were talking about if you hadn’t of said that,” Conner pointed out. Or that it was Conner on the phone with Lois at all. His Dad didn’t like to eavesdrop on people unless he had to, usually because he thought they were in danger or something. “But since, he isn’t there, is this my cue?”
“That depends,” Lois replied. “Are you referring to the sudden infestation of termites that your building is suffering from? Because in that case, yes it is your cue.”
“You infested our building with termites?” Conner asked, not a little impressed. “How did you even do that?”
“Uh-uh-uh,” she chastised. “A good reporter never reveals her secrets.”
“I thought that was a good magician. Or her sources.”
“Details,” Lois said dismissively. “I trust you know what to do from here.”
“Yes,” said Conner promptly. Then, “Maybe. No, not really.” Given some time he could probably figure it out, but it would be faster if Lois just told him what she wanted him to do. Besides, if he had to come up with it himself, he might guess wrong and accidently mess her plan up. The key to a properly executed plan was clear communication between all its co-conspirators, or at least that’s what Batman said. And Batman was basically the king of plan-making, so Conner trusted his judgment.
Lois sighed. “Your place is going to be fumigated, right?”
“Right,” Conner agreed.
“And you guys are going to have to find someplace else to stay for a while, right?”
“Yeah,” said Conner, glancing at the notice again. “For a week.”
“A whole week? Good,” Lois said, practically purring. “Now, where are you guys going to stay while you’ve been kicked out?”
“Oh!” Conner said, his eyes going wide with comprehension and excitement. “I’m going to call him right now.”
“You do that” Lois said. “And call me when he agrees to it; I need to stay on top of this story if I’m going to beat Cat to the punch.”
Conner agreed, and then hung up so he could call his Father.
“Lex Luthor.”
“Hey Father, you busy?” Conner asked. Not that his Father would ever admit to being too busy to talk to Conner, but he had learned to translate his Father’s answers and knew that if he said something about ‘I always have time for you’ then that meant he’d walked out in the middle of another board meeting to explain what a joke Conner had seen on a sitcom meant because the people at Alcmene Labs didn’t understand the value of getting history references.
“Nothing important,” his Father replied and Conner nodded. That meant he was working on something important, but not time-sensitive, so he was free to talk for a bit.
“Good, because I kind of needed to ask you for a favor,” Conner said.
“Whatever you need,” replied his Father and the really amazing, but also kind of scary thing was, he totally meant that. Like, anything Conner wanted, his Father would do, no questions asked. Well, maybe some questions asked if he wanted his Father to do something really over-the-top or crazy, like killing a bunch of people or blowing up the moon, but he’d still do it, even if it was only because the moon offended Conner’s delicate sensibilities -which Conner totally didn’t have because he wasn’t a complete pansy, but if he did have delicate sensibilities, and the moon did offend them, his Father would totally blow it up and wow, had this train of thought got him totally off topic.
“Dad’s apartment building is being fumigated for a week starting next Monday, so they’re kicking us out,” Conner explained.
“Conner,” his Father said, sounding a bit distressed, “that’s not a favor. You’re always welcome here; it’s your home as much as Clark’s place is.”
“I know that,” Conner said, “but Dad needs a place to stay too.”
“Oh. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” said his Father.
“Why not? That’s what friends do for each other, and you guys are friends, now. Right?” Conner asked, suddenly struck with the paralyzing certainty that they had only play-acting at being for his benefit, and they still hated each other, and they’d never get together, and then Conner would never have a real family, and-
“We’re trying to be,” his Father said, and okay, Conner could deal with that. “It’s just.” His Father sighed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with it if both of you wanted to stay, but I don’t think that Clark’s going to agree to it.”
“But if he does, then it’s okay, right?”
“Right,” his Father confirmed.
“Good, then I call you back to let you know when we’ll be coming over,” Conner said, hanging up over the sound of his Father’s protests. One down, one to go.
“Hey Dad,” Conner said into the phone a few seconds later, unwilling to wait until his Dad got home to finish setting this thing in motion. “So I’ve got some bad news.”
“What’s up?” his Dad asked.
“The apartment’s being fumigated next week.”
“So we need to find someplace to stay,” his Dad concluded. In the background Conner could hear Lois protesting loudly in background and he smiled to himself. “Wait,” his Dad said, his voice faint as though he were holding the phone away from his face, “what happened last time?... No, I don’t know what I did… Okay, fine Lois, whatever. Sorry about that, Conner.”
“Not a problem,” said Conner. “Plus I already know where we can stay. Father’s penthouse.”
“Oh. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” his Dad said, and seriously, why did people always doubt all of Conner’s great ideas?
“Yes it is,” Conner argued. “Father’s got plenty of space and I even have my own room over there already.”
“And you’re welcome to stay there if that’s what you want; I just think it’d be better if I found somewhere else.”
“But you guys are friends,” Conner said petulantly, “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is, that’s really big favor to ask of someone, and Lex and I are only just starting to work through things again. I don’t want to push him,” his Dad explained.
“But I already asked, and he’s fine with it,” said Conner.
“Conner,” his Dad sighed. “I really wish you would talk these things over with me first.”
“Sorry,” Conner said, though really he wasn’t that sorry at all, since there was no way his Dad would have let him ask if he hadn’t talked to his Father first. Conner wasn’t stupid.
“What’s done is done, just, in the future, talk to me first, alright? Now, is Lex really okay with me staying at the penthouse, or did you guilt him into it?” his Dad asked.
“I asked him and he said he thought it was a bad idea and I asked why and he said that he was fine with it, but he didn’t think you’d want to stay with him,” Conner reported dutifully.
“Dammit Lex,” his Dad said, sort of under his breath like Conner wasn’t supposed to hear, but superhearing, duh. “Fine, I’ll talk to him, but I guess that’s what we’re doing.”
“Great!” Conner said grinning so wide that if his face could hurt, it totally would right now. This was going to be awesome.
Chapter Nine: In Which Conner Makes a Lot of Phone Calls
*~*~*~*~*~*
When Conner got home from school the next Tuesday, there was a notice on the door of his Dad’s apartment. Conner pulled it off and absently began reading it as he walked inside and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Blah, blah, blah, termites.., blah, blah, blah, fumigation… blah, blah, blah, find alternative accommodations. Huh.” That was weird. Conner hadn’t noticed any termites around or termite damage or anything, and he didn’t think his Dad had either. You’d think one of them would have seen something if it was bad enough that everyone was being made to leave so they could fumigate the place.
Wait a second…
Conner whipped out his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
“Lois Lane.”
“Is this my cue?” Conner asked.
“Why yes Conner, your dad is away from his desk right now, so feel free to blatantly discuss our plan to manipulate him into hooking up with the guy he supposedly couldn’t stand less than a year ago.”
“Well, it’s not like he would have known that’s what we were talking about if you hadn’t of said that,” Conner pointed out. Or that it was Conner on the phone with Lois at all. His Dad didn’t like to eavesdrop on people unless he had to, usually because he thought they were in danger or something. “But since, he isn’t there, is this my cue?”
“That depends,” Lois replied. “Are you referring to the sudden infestation of termites that your building is suffering from? Because in that case, yes it is your cue.”
“You infested our building with termites?” Conner asked, not a little impressed. “How did you even do that?”
“Uh-uh-uh,” she chastised. “A good reporter never reveals her secrets.”
“I thought that was a good magician. Or her sources.”
“Details,” Lois said dismissively. “I trust you know what to do from here.”
“Yes,” said Conner promptly. Then, “Maybe. No, not really.” Given some time he could probably figure it out, but it would be faster if Lois just told him what she wanted him to do. Besides, if he had to come up with it himself, he might guess wrong and accidently mess her plan up. The key to a properly executed plan was clear communication between all its co-conspirators, or at least that’s what Batman said. And Batman was basically the king of plan-making, so Conner trusted his judgment.
Lois sighed. “Your place is going to be fumigated, right?”
“Right,” Conner agreed.
“And you guys are going to have to find someplace else to stay for a while, right?”
“Yeah,” said Conner, glancing at the notice again. “For a week.”
“A whole week? Good,” Lois said, practically purring. “Now, where are you guys going to stay while you’ve been kicked out?”
“Oh!” Conner said, his eyes going wide with comprehension and excitement. “I’m going to call him right now.”
“You do that” Lois said. “And call me when he agrees to it; I need to stay on top of this story if I’m going to beat Cat to the punch.”
Conner agreed, and then hung up so he could call his Father.
“Lex Luthor.”
“Hey Father, you busy?” Conner asked. Not that his Father would ever admit to being too busy to talk to Conner, but he had learned to translate his Father’s answers and knew that if he said something about ‘I always have time for you’ then that meant he’d walked out in the middle of another board meeting to explain what a joke Conner had seen on a sitcom meant because the people at Alcmene Labs didn’t understand the value of getting history references.
“Nothing important,” his Father replied and Conner nodded. That meant he was working on something important, but not time-sensitive, so he was free to talk for a bit.
“Good, because I kind of needed to ask you for a favor,” Conner said.
“Whatever you need,” replied his Father and the really amazing, but also kind of scary thing was, he totally meant that. Like, anything Conner wanted, his Father would do, no questions asked. Well, maybe some questions asked if he wanted his Father to do something really over-the-top or crazy, like killing a bunch of people or blowing up the moon, but he’d still do it, even if it was only because the moon offended Conner’s delicate sensibilities -which Conner totally didn’t have because he wasn’t a complete pansy, but if he did have delicate sensibilities, and the moon did offend them, his Father would totally blow it up and wow, had this train of thought got him totally off topic.
“Dad’s apartment building is being fumigated for a week starting next Monday, so they’re kicking us out,” Conner explained.
“Conner,” his Father said, sounding a bit distressed, “that’s not a favor. You’re always welcome here; it’s your home as much as Clark’s place is.”
“I know that,” Conner said, “but Dad needs a place to stay too.”
“Oh. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” said his Father.
“Why not? That’s what friends do for each other, and you guys are friends, now. Right?” Conner asked, suddenly struck with the paralyzing certainty that they had only play-acting at being for his benefit, and they still hated each other, and they’d never get together, and then Conner would never have a real family, and-
“We’re trying to be,” his Father said, and okay, Conner could deal with that. “It’s just.” His Father sighed. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with it if both of you wanted to stay, but I don’t think that Clark’s going to agree to it.”
“But if he does, then it’s okay, right?”
“Right,” his Father confirmed.
“Good, then I call you back to let you know when we’ll be coming over,” Conner said, hanging up over the sound of his Father’s protests. One down, one to go.
“Hey Dad,” Conner said into the phone a few seconds later, unwilling to wait until his Dad got home to finish setting this thing in motion. “So I’ve got some bad news.”
“What’s up?” his Dad asked.
“The apartment’s being fumigated next week.”
“So we need to find someplace to stay,” his Dad concluded. In the background Conner could hear Lois protesting loudly in background and he smiled to himself. “Wait,” his Dad said, his voice faint as though he were holding the phone away from his face, “what happened last time?... No, I don’t know what I did… Okay, fine Lois, whatever. Sorry about that, Conner.”
“Not a problem,” said Conner. “Plus I already know where we can stay. Father’s penthouse.”
“Oh. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” his Dad said, and seriously, why did people always doubt all of Conner’s great ideas?
“Yes it is,” Conner argued. “Father’s got plenty of space and I even have my own room over there already.”
“And you’re welcome to stay there if that’s what you want; I just think it’d be better if I found somewhere else.”
“But you guys are friends,” Conner said petulantly, “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is, that’s really big favor to ask of someone, and Lex and I are only just starting to work through things again. I don’t want to push him,” his Dad explained.
“But I already asked, and he’s fine with it,” said Conner.
“Conner,” his Dad sighed. “I really wish you would talk these things over with me first.”
“Sorry,” Conner said, though really he wasn’t that sorry at all, since there was no way his Dad would have let him ask if he hadn’t talked to his Father first. Conner wasn’t stupid.
“What’s done is done, just, in the future, talk to me first, alright? Now, is Lex really okay with me staying at the penthouse, or did you guilt him into it?” his Dad asked.
“I asked him and he said he thought it was a bad idea and I asked why and he said that he was fine with it, but he didn’t think you’d want to stay with him,” Conner reported dutifully.
“Dammit Lex,” his Dad said, sort of under his breath like Conner wasn’t supposed to hear, but superhearing, duh. “Fine, I’ll talk to him, but I guess that’s what we’re doing.”
“Great!” Conner said grinning so wide that if his face could hurt, it totally would right now. This was going to be awesome.