Nexus: For Eights cont'd

[hero_farmboy]

Clark is sleeping. Not entirely peacefully, stressful Lex encounters will do that, but he is sleeping. The rest of the farm is quiet as well, with only the occasional moo audible in the late night air

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[downsidedarling]

Lex should get used to bafflement.

The next thing the surveillance minion ought to notice is Anna descending nimbly from the roof, having awakened at midnight with a serious case of restlessness.

She knows the place is likely being watched, so she's careful not to injure herself getting down from the roof; on the other hand, she knows the place is likely being watched, so she glides down the ladder four rungs at a time, alighting at the bottom with regal grace.

A walk seems like just the thing to clear her head.

[hero_farmboy]

Every movement, as viewed through night vision binoculars, is relayed to Lex via PDA. The boss is still on his way home from Metropolis and minion man isn't about to be caught slacking off, especially if Luthor Jr. decides to swing by on his way.

[downsidedarling]

Eights walks by the side of the road with unconscious grace, lost in thought.

She's following the route Clark drove on his way to Metropolis, simply because it's one that she knows.

It's not entirely impossible that she might pass out of minion man's sight at some point on this journey. The road is lined with trees in places, after all.

[hero_farmboy]

This new development is quickly shared and back up is called in to locate at various points along any possible route she may take. Luthors spare no expense, if they're interested enough.

This particular minion, however, maintains his post. Kent is under watch just as much as the girl is.

[downsidedarling]

Eight-Hour walks. Graceful; she hasn't lost her game face, even though she's rather preoccupied at the moment. Her left hand taps the bones of her right as she recalls with a wistful smile the most recent time they were broken. Then each arm traces the length of the other - a memory from a long time ago, another man, another set of injuries. And so it goes.

[hero_farmboy]

She's left the farm. Clark will undoubtedly throw a tantrum when he finds out, the thought of which makes Lex smile as he whips along in his Porsche back into Smallville.

Fair game now. It's only a matter of who gets to her first.

[downsidedarling]

It just so happens that Lex is driving along a particular road in one direction while Eights is walking along it in the other.

She laughs and indulges in a series of twirls along the side of the road as she indulges in a fond remembrance of times past - that time Jasmine got drunk and laid an ostentatious bet that she could get a scream out of Eights within five hours. Eight-Hour won, of course. It took six.

[hero_farmboy]

Another incoming message on the PDA. Lex has never been the best of drivers and is even worse when he's distracted.

The scotch he had while contemplating his newest Clark issue probably isn't helping, either.

He does slam on the brakes at some point. Just not in quite enough time.

[downsidedarling]

Slam.

Well, at least he won't have to have her under surveillance any longer?

She hits his windshield, rolls, and falls off. Several broken ribs, an arm, and copious amounts of internal bleeding - Anna Reeve is dying on the pavement with a fender-print in her abdomen.

Again.

[hero_farmboy]

Lex's first thought isn't Oh, shit or What the hell was that? or even Is she dead?

No. It's Not again. At least he's not in the river this time.

He steps out of the now stopped car and flips open his cell phone. "Get me an ambulance." And that's it. At this point it doesn't matter if she ends up in the hospital or the morgue.

Lex has her.

[downsidedarling]

The ambulance won't be necessary. She gurgles out her last breath seconds after the words leave his mouth.

A beat.

Two.

She's trying to hold it off - she doesn't want to bust her cover, for the sake of Clark and the sake of the vacation - but some things are inevitable.

With a rush of fire, Eights is revived, and leaps to her feet with catlike grace. She stalks over to him, feet crunching on broken glass from his wrecked windshield, and aims a fist directly at Lex Luthor's adorable nose.

"Watch where you're going, asshole."

[hero_farmboy]

Well, isn't that interesting. Worth the punch to the face, Lex thinks. Worth more.

He does takes take a step back, however. He's not entirely unfamiliar with hostile meteor freaks. Or aliens.

"What are you?"

[downsidedarling]

"Thanks to you, dead."

Anna grins viciously and steps forwards again. She's between him and his car now, and if she has anything to say about it, that won't be the only punch to the face Lex catches before the night is done.

[hero_farmboy]

Clark doesn't need superhearing to recognize the sounds of a car being crunched not too far from his house. Or the sirens from an ambulance already on its way.

It's possible he's dressed as fast as he would be with superspeed and after making sure Anna isn't on the roof anymore, he runs at full speed toward the blinking lights of a car visible through the sparse trees lining the road.

"Anna!"

And Lex.

This was not his night.

[downsidedarling]

"He hit me with his fucking car," calls Eights as Clark comes into view, punctuating the sentence by kicking Lex in the stomach, elbowing him in the chest, and then elbowing him again in the head. "I died." Knee to the sternum, and she steps back, dusting off her hands. "I'm really not having the best night ever."

She won't admit to knowing why she's so angry, but Anna Reeve has always harboured a deep, dark wish to cause some serious harm to the man who hit her with a car and cut her life abruptly short at the age of twenty-one. It may be a Porsche on a Kansas country road instead of a nameless shitmobile on an Ottawa main street, but the circumstances are similar enough for her.

[hero_farmboy]

"Stop it." Clark grabs her, forcefully this time, and pulls her away. He's not got his usual strength but he is still twice her size and used to performing manual labour.

"She's right, Clark; I killed her," Lex interjects hoarsely, still doubled over and wiping blood from his mouth. "She burst into flame and now look at her. It was beautiful."

Clark doesn't know who to glare at more. He settles for Lex.

"You're drunk, Lex. You hit a tree, probably swerving to miss her, even though she shouldn't have been out here to begin with." He'll spare a glare for Eights here, who he still has a firm grip on. And true enough, Lex's car is part of a small tree. "She's just angry from being followed at the museum and she's screwing with you. Ambulance it on it's way. Use it. We're going home."