Friends
Written by Amazonia V
Chapter 6:
“Whatever women do, they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.”
– Charlotte Whitton, feminist
Metropolis was always a thrill, and though Cassie had been here before, she had never ever been here on leisure. If that was a word that you could use with Metropolis. Cassie was thrilled to be here and though she didn't want to behave like a slack-jawed tourist, she intended to enjoy every minute of it. It was really, the first time that she was here in a purely non-crisis mode.
There were important things to do, and vital business to attend to, but that didn't mean she couldn't hug the excitement of being theretight against her.
It was exciting. The sleek towers of buildings, the acres of shops, the fast and crowded streets, people bustling past. She sneaked a look at her watch. A quick flick of her wrist and Wonder Girl was ready. It was time to meet her date.
He was sitting, legs stretched out, cape fluttering in the breeze, with his hands folded restfully over his stomach.
She flew up from behind him, started to tap him on the shoulder, snatched her hand back.
Perhaps he wouldn’t like the familiarity.
“Hello, Cassie,” Superman murmured.
She flushed, shrugged. “I was just wondering if you knew I was here.”
“I did. Also, since we agreed to meet here, on the top of The Daily Planet building, I was expecting you. Do you want to talk here? Or do you want to come over to the apartment I live in?”
Cassie was surprised. Was Superman going to share a part of his life with her? Inviting her to his apartment where he lived as Clark Kent!
Her sense of excitement grew. This was Superman, after all. Then she sobered. Had Diana been to the apartment, too?
But she was dying to take a peek at how Superman lived, dying to compare, dying to see what Connor never spoke about.
So she simply said, “Yes. I’d like to visit your apartment.”
It didn't look like much, she mused as she stepped through the window into his apartment. Still it seemed a sturdy sort of place to her, and pitted with character. "I would have thought you lived alone," she said, looking around.
“I do,”
“No, I mean to say not in a flat with neighbors.”
“I do,” Superman said again. “I have the only apartment in the building.”
“It seems awfully big not to make use of the other space.”
“I make use of it.”
Wonder Girl looked around her. There was an elevator that opened into the foyer to the living room. “The living space itself had a floor with wide, dark planks, biscuit-colored walls, wide windows and artifacts from all over the world.
“You've made use of this space right enough,” she said.
There were gorgeous old rugs. Tapestries from another time altogether. Rich Indian silks with thick gold thread running through them. It was a subtle blend of colors which accented the deep hues and deep cushions of the sofas, the chairs, even the heavy polished wood.
She wandered around, noting first it was tidy, then that it was tasteful. And last that it was stylish. She liked the wavy glass blocks that separated the kitchen from the living space, and the framed arches that led to what she supposed were hallways and bedrooms.
“It seems a lot of room for a single man.”
“I don't like to be crowded,” Superman couldn’t resist talking about the apartment. Unconsciously, a note of pride crept into his voice. “There’s space here for a study for me, like a small office that I can use. Three bedrooms – one for me, two for guests… I’ve even got a gym and fitness centre that is equipped with machinery made from Kryptonian metals and can simulate a red sun’s rays. It can also simulate tough opponents, battle scenes and combat styles from other planets, including Earth. And, of course, there’s another room for communication links and monitoring purposes.”
Cassie thought about that. Then she nodded, turned back. Yes, she thought, it suited him. A clever and unusual space for a clever and unusual man, no a Superman.
“All right, Wonder Girl. What is it that you want to talk about?” Superman was looking at her with those deep, penetratingly blue eyes.
“I needed a word with you,” she responded. She smiled warmly at him, her lashes fluttering, but her eyes were cold steel.
Superman picked up the underlying emotion. And responded instantly. The room reverberated with ominous control.
Wonder Girl took stock. One way in and out, she thought, reflecting the training that Artemis had put her through. There were more areas to trap a person than physical dimensions. It might be wise to set up a few measures here. If a you didn't anticipate a war, you always lost the battle – that was Phillipus speaking now.
“Well, then,” said Superman, “first things first.”
“I wanted to talk about Diana.”
Superman acknowledged this with a nod. “So it would be.”
“Please, Superman. Stop sounding like Batman. You don’t know why I came here, do you?” Wonder Girl was cool, but let a hint of her temper show.
Superman simply smiled. “Go ahead. Speak your mind.”
“I that you need to be careful with her. She needs some softness. She was really fond of Tom, even her feelings show, and look what happened. She was hurt. I wish I could have punched him on the jaw. I won’t let her get hurt again.”
“Be careful. Won’t.” Superman turned his back on Wonder Girl for a moment, then turned back to face her. “If you've used those words with Diana very often, I bet you've gotten some interesting scars.”
“True. But she’s my sister. She’s always been there for me. She’s not meant to be weak, she’s strong.”
“I know,” said Superman. “She’s compassionate. And she's smart. I like her brain. I like her face,” he added, eyes direct on Wonder Girl's. “I like the whole package. That's a problem for you, her being your sister. I would feel the same about Kara.”
Wonder Girl smiled. Superman was so honest. So like a boy scout.
“Let's put it this way. The choice will always be with Diana” Superman was saying now. “Her choice. It stays her choice, either way. Long ago, when I met Queen Hippolyta, I gave her my word that I'd take care of her. I don't break my word. Not to someone I respect anyway.”
Wonder Girl relaxed now. She could trust Superman. Just like she trusted Connor. They had the same genes after all. Maybe Superman had them a little more, what with not being a clone and all. She believed that he was as good as his word. Had yet to hear anything or anyone say otherwise.
“I haven’t spoken to Diana about this meeting. Nor to Donna. They would tell me not to interfere. I guess I’m still an remains, she's an impulsive, headstrong girl who—"
“I love her.”
Wonder Girl's eyes widened, her thoughts scattered. “What? You never showed any feeling.”
“I love her. How could I not? She’s been one of the few best friends I have. Someone who’s not afraid to speak her mind, not afraid to tell me I’m wrong. She’s courageous, humorous, compassionate and forgiving.” He paused.
“And that’s all that I’m going to tell you. The rest is between me and her. But you can stop worrying that I'll let anything or anyone hurt her. Including myself. I care about her too much. Is that enough for you?”
Wonder Girl smiled more fully this time. It was hard not to love Superman when he was so vulnerable. She walked up to Superman just now and gently placed a kiss on his cheek. “Be good to my sister,” she whispered. “Or I’ll make your life a living hell. Ask Ares. I can do it.”
****
Fanci Webb was in a bad mood. Hal Jordan was bad for her career.
Fanci knew this the way she knew blondes got all the guys and brunettes all the leftovers.
She told herself not to think about it as she rode the subway into work the Monday after Hal Jordan’s race, her LV purse slung over one shoulder. The train was, as usual, packed with wall-to-wall people. After she got off the train, she walked to the offices of SMWW which were located on the east side of the city. The building where she worked loomed over her as she darted out of the way of a taxicab.
Maybe I should have stayed at home. Her boss, Julian Raine didn’t need to see her to fire her, right? She could have stayed in bed, read a book, eaten a box of chocolates. Preferably some of Guylian or Lindt Lindor milk chocolates. Mmmmmmmmm…
Go on, Fanci. No sense in delaying the inevitable.
She reluctantly entered the building and took the elevator to the twelfth floor. The double doors that led to the office’s hallowed halls displayed the company’s logo, the SMWW letters jutting out like the S on a Superman T-shirt. She’d been impressed when she’d first spotted the massive front desk with its half-round front and marble top three months ago when she’d started the job. Behind a harried-looking receptionist was a wall with a door to the left of it. Behind the glass, executive assistants, office clerks and junior agents moved between shoulder-high cubicle walls. Senior agents sat in offices that were set around the perimeter wall, the glass fronts allowing the assistants to see their bosses, and sunlight to filter in from outside. Fanci headed to the far right corner and her own cubicle just outside of Julian’s spacious office.
Julian, her erstwhile boss, was busy tossing a basketball into a miniature hoop attached to a bookshelf across from his desk. He’d removed his black jacket; Fanci could see it hanging off the back of his chair. His lips moved nonstop, the headset on his head glowing red, which told Fanci he was on the phone.
There was a yellow Post-it note on her desk.
See me.
She sank into her office chair.
Damn.
Her eyes skated around the beige-colored cubicle. Her gaze focused on the picture of her parents she’d pinned to the fabric-covered walls. She stared at the stern countenance of her mom and dad. Mom, with her stunning good looks smiling serenely. Dad, with his distinguished gray head held high and solemn expression. The photo had been taken at a posh restaurant, right after she’d told her mom and dad that she didn’t want to join Webb & Masters, which had been founded by her parents and was one of the worlds most exclusive legal firms. She wanted to do something fun with her degree. Something different.
They hadn’t approved.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone beeping. Julian’s deep baritone all but roared over the intercom. “Fanci, front and center.”
Two weeks ago Fanci would have complied tacitly. Today she snapped, “Aye aye, Captain,” without missing a beat. Maybe dealing with Hal Jordan had taught her to be more aggressive. Or maybe, like any condemned prisoner, she recognized she had nothing to lose by talking back.
She slid her purse off her shoulder, straightened her suit, slipped off the tennis shoes she wore while commuting and slid on the heels she wore around the office.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked, entering Julian’s office.
“Sit down,” Julian said, his bright blue gaze eyeing her up and down, manicured hands drumming on his dark oak desk. He always scoped her out. At first Fanci had thought he was coming on to her, but she’d quickly learned he was merely giving her the once-over. Julian put great stock in appearances. When she’d come to work one day in casual pants and a cotton shirt, his ocular scan had been followed by a lip-curling grimace of distaste. She’d taken the hint.
“Hal Jordan called me last evening,” he said without preamble.
“Oh, yeah?” Fanci asked, her ribs vibrating beneath the assault of her heart.
Julian nodded, then leaned back in his chair. The thing creaked in protest. Fanci had a mental image of it tipping over backward, Julian’s loafers thrust skyward as he tumbled over into the credenza behind him.
“Good work.”
Huh?
Julian smiled now, his arms lifting as he hooked his hands behind his neck. “Hauling him over hot coals on the telephone. Genius. I laughed my ass off.”
Fanci blinked, thinking for an instant that she couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“Jordan gave me an earful,” he continued, the smile turning into a smirk. “The jerk wanted me to fire you.”
“But you’re not?” she asked in a weak voice.
“Hell, no,” he said, leaning forward so suddenly the wheels of his chair slapped the plastic carpet protector. “You got him to change his mind about publicity.”
“I did?”
Julian didn’t say anything for a moment. “You mean, you didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “After disconnecting the conversation, I pretty much chilled out.”
“No wonder he was so pissed off.” Julian picked up a pen off his desk, signing his name with a flourish at the bottom of a sheet of paper. “Here,” he said, sliding the page across his desk. “Take this to accounting.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a cash advance approval form. You’re going to need some money and a company credit card.”
“Uh, why?”
“For managing Jordan,” he said. That was the thing about Julian. He always assumed she could read his mind. It drove her nuts.
“And how, exactly, will I be managing Jordan?”
He glanced up at her, giving her a look that made her feel stupid. That was the other thing about Julian. He couldn’t be bothered to explain things.
“You’re going down to North Carolina,” he said, each word pronounced succinctly, as if Fanci was hard of hearing. “And keeping an eye on him.”
“North Carolina?”
He shook his head, looked toward the heavens as if seeking help from above. Fanci felt sorry for his girlfriend—the one whose picture sat on the credenza behind him. The woman must be a saint to put up with Julian.
“You’ll be staying in North Carolina for the next few weeks. You’ve gotten a promotion, Fanci. You’re a junior agent, and your first client, your only client, is Hal Jordan.”
****
Connor knocked on Diana’s door. Themyscira House always had him in awe. It was as if he felt the breath of Zeus on his neck. And he had been here many times, with Cassie whenever she was visiting, which was often. This time, though, was different. He was here to meet Diana. And he was terrified.
He waited to hear Diana bidding him to enter, and not hearing anything, started to turn the knob of the office door, then stopped.
Heck, Diana scared even the Batman, and that was one scary dude. And Superman had been known to say that he didn’t want to cross swords with Diana. Connor didn’t even want to think about that metaphor and what it meant.
He took a deep breath, calming himself. Then, he knocked briskly again, and opened the door without waiting for an invitation.
Diana lay on her back, on a yoga mat. She wasn’t even sweating as she put herself through the most difficult body contortions. “Connor,” she said, not even missing a breath. “Come in. What’s on your mind?”
“I needed to talk to you,” Connor said.
“Is this about Cassie?” Diana didn’t even stop her yogic moves.
“Kind of.”
“Ok, what’s bothering you?”
Direct and to the point, as usual, thought Connor wryly.
“Firstly, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things since I came back. I’m still confused. And given a chance, I don’t know if I might have done exactly the same things again. I wouldn't be proud of it, would look back from here and see all the places where I went wrong, when I should've turned right instead of left. But that wouldn't change anything, would it?"
Concerned at the confusion in the young man’s tone, Diana stopped exercising and sat up. “Connor,” she began, “what is this about exactly?”
“I wanted to know if you finally approve of Cassie and me.” There, that was out now, thought Connor. “I really like her. And I know she likes me. But she thinks the world of you, and I know that whenever you’ve caught us together, you’ve been mad at me. Cassie’s had a hell of a time, and I'm part of the reason why. Not that she's a doormat or a fool, but she's more inclined to say what she thinks and is often annoyed everyone doesn't do the same. She has a refined sense of fair play, like you and Donna. And me, I’m half-devious, thanks to Lex."
Diana raised one beautiful brow and said, “Lex would think that people who play fair mostly lose."
“Don't they just?” Connor laughed a little and he dared to allow himself to relax with her. Just a little bit.
Then she continued, “But when they win, they win clean. That matters to Cassie. You matter to her.”
“And?” he said, hope lighting his face as Diana allowed herself to sense the torment in the young man and the truth.
“I know my sister, so I know that. But not knowing you so well, I have to ask. Does she matter to you?"
He tried to move from under her penetrating gaze, but she held it firmly, not even exerting herself. “I wont let her down.”
“That wasn't my question. Does she matter to you?”
“Yeah, I guess she does.”
“Then I'll give you a piece of advice. Fight for her. Use all the love that you have within you until you've burned her out, resistance-wise. Don’t let yourself down. Don’t let her down. Either works with her." She lay down again. “Would that be too much for you?”
“Nope.”
“Gaea go with you, Connor.”
He turned to leave and turned back to Diana, who was concentrating on her breathing and did not notice him turn.
“How do you feel about Kal?” Connor said.