6280/Hour of the Wolf

Hour of the Wolf
Date of Scene:	19 May 2021
Location:	Bullpen - Daily Planet Building
Synopsis:	A late night at the Daily Panet is interrupted by the deadliest shot in Metropolis-Bloodsport! Can Lois and Clark stop the super-mercenary before he kills again?!
Cast of Characters:	Lois Lane, Clark Kent

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Lois Lane has posed:
It's late. Since they got back to earth, Lois has been diving deeper than ever into her work. Long, late nights, doing away on a few deep undercover research assignments for a few days here and there. She still drinks -- she'll probably never stop drinking -- but she's been avoiding most of the noticably harder drugs than the occasional stimulant to help fuel those long nights. Like this one.

Alessandro Martone is getting out after fives years of hard time. It was supposed to be ten, but good lawyers and a soft parole board means he finally got free. Lois was the one who broke the story about the protection ring that got him put behind bars all those years ago, so now she's been working hard on figuring out what the shake up in the mob world is going to be like once he's back. That means it's nearly midnight and she's still at her desk, the one right next to the bullpen's window. She's smoking a cigarette out the window and reading through a dozen old files and other research about the Martone family. Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy top knot and she's got nothing on but a tank top and capris -- it's too warm to be working this late at night.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark has been trying not to be thrilled at Lois getting away from the harder drugs. He's a bit old fashioned that way, but the fact of the matter is that Lois got in a lot of trouble very recently because of an enemy and a nasty cocktail of drugs, so...

Like he's not going to lose his shit over a joint but the stuff he needs to use Kryptonian tech for a detox?

He misses her, but Clark remembers when Lois basically busted Martone and understands Lois's focus. They both have to make things up with Perry from being away, too, even if the week in space only felt like a month or three, so Clark's been hitting the science beat extra hard himself. It's a good look at who's going to be a problem for Superman in a few years too, to be totally honest.

Still, all work and no play. "Okay, midnight. Offically off reporter duty and on boyfriend duty." Clark shows this by unbuttoning his top button. He insists on the blue suit, but has left the trenchcoat at home in deference to the weather. Slipping in quietly, Clark has a pair of soft pretzels and some of those energy drinks Luthor likes...the ones that actually work...which may be the only hint Lois gets that someone's standing right behind her.

"Guess who." Clark whispers, eyes twinkling.

Lois Lane has posed:
A slight jerk comes to her body, definitely not having heard him come in, so absorbed in her reading and also half asleep. To be honest, her brain probably checked out 30 minutes ago, but her body is still trying to fight through. Still, she's a bit on edge knowing that Martone is out. Which means she jerks up, dropping the folder and immediately grabbing a hand towards her desk drawer where she probably keeps some sort of weapon (or mace) before her mind registers the voice.

"Oh holy hell, Clark. Haven't you ever heard of a text message?" She asks with a slightly breathless laugh. But she is happy to see him. She drags one hand across her eyes and then turns around, slipping up out of her chair and towards him to tug him into a deep, warm greeting of a kiss.

Clark Kent has posed:
That was probably a little mean, Clark thinks, considering what's going down.

It WAS, Superman thinks, very funny though. He's drawn into the deep kiss, not really having free hands to hold Lois with. His arms raise up anyway on instinct as he enjoys himself, sort of looking for a non-booby trapped part of Lois's desk to set the food down on. He should really just put it down, but that means not kissing Lois, and really who's the idiot there?

"No." Clark says, finally pulling up for air and setting the food down. "Explain it to me. I'm from a flyover state, we just got television and flush toilets last month. Everyone's really excited, I'm going to be honest."

Lois Lane has posed:
As he responds like the Smallville boy he is, Lois' eyes roll to the ceiling of the bullpen but she can't hold the grin from her lips. That's half his charm, "Well, farm boy. They have these new fangled things called cellphones and they have keyboards JUST LIKE your mama's typewriter, and you can send telegrams all the way across the world in just a second on this little screen." She grins, leaning up for one more peck, and then she's pulling away those goodies because Lois can never resist a present.

"Seriouly, though. I've got like... 30 more minutes with this stuff, then I'll give up. I promise. What'd you bring good?" Then she sees those energy drinks and her eyes go a bit wider, "You know me too well. See? You knew I wasn't going to give up tonight." She cracks one open, knocking back a full gulp like she was taking a shot of something. "God. These are disgusting." She takes another drink.

Clark Kent has posed:
"What the hell is a typewriter." Clark says, utterly deadpan and then cracking a grin, which turns into a laugh. It's like Lois's ongoing feud with spellcheck, it's never not funny.

"You probably said that thirty minutes ago." Clark says, just a little chiding, "I know you're on edge, Lois, but working until your brain turns to goo isn't going to help. What are you even working on?" Clark shamelessly looks over her shoulder, allowed to do that these days. "I hate those things. Luthor used to drink them like water in the early days, it drove me crazy." Clark says idly, taking a big bite of his still-warm soft pretzel.

Lois Lane has posed:
"They work. They taste awful, but they work. I don't know if it's cocaine, creatine, or just a thousand percent vitamin B, but I'll take whatever works." And with a wrinkle of her nose, Lois knocks back the rest of one with a good gulp before tossing the empty can into the trash behind her. She'll certainly be up half the night now.

She then sinks down to perch on the edge of her desk, reaching one hand over to his soft pretzel and breaking off a section for herself without even asking. "We have children together. Half of whatever is your is mine." Well, it wasn't a question, but at least she warns him as she takes a piece. "That's how that works, right?" She's also carefully sliding her files shut on her desk, not worried he's going to scoop her, but a bit worried he might tell her she shouldn't be poking at it.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I don't think that's written down anywhere." Clark's blushing a little at the Implications, which he's going to leave off as Lois being overtired. Or just...honest. God.

Let's keep this light and drama free tonight, Clark decides. "Does this mean I get half of your pretzel? Because I got you one." Clark pouts a little bit decides eating is more prodictive than complaining before she steals the whole thing. "I think it's the vitamin B, for the record."

Clark clicks his tongue at Lois hiding, and just, you know, uses his x-ray vision. Cheater. Huge cheater.

Lois Lane has posed:
*Huge* cheater. And it's the old Martone file. Everything she has on Alessandro but, more than that, she's pulled all the files on his sotto capos and started doing fresh research on all of them. Minor arrest records. Some survellience photos from the last few days, proving she's been stalking them around the city the times she's out of the office. She's making a whole new Martone file and looks determined to put him, or his people, back behind bars. Only days after he got free.

Lois looks between him, and the tilt of his gaze, then back to his eyes. "OH! Not *fair*. I should eat all my pretzel too. But no... you get a piece as well. That's how this partnership thing works, I suppose." She wrinkles her pert little nose to him, but reaches down to scoop out her own pretzel before it gets too cold. Her stomach rather audibly rumbles. There are no take out containers on her desk. Chances are, she worked through dinner. She gets manic when she's in moods like this.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark takes exactly the same size piece Lois took, as a peace offering. He frowns a little, but perhaps suprisingly doesn't complain. Frankly, Clark gets it, and as bad as Lois is she's got nothing on Bruce during a Joker spree. He's had to clean THAT up too.

Man what happens when Lois figures everyone else out?

"You sound like you need more than a pretzel." Clark obseerves, softly. "This is amazing work considering the time frame, by the way. I've seen Batman take longer to start building a file."

Meanwhile, across the block, a man in a costume is having his lunch. It is always important to kill people, he thinks, on a full stomach.

The man in question is wearing military fatigues, with a circular symbol in the center of his shirt like a giant bullet wound. He has a mask over his head, and a set of old fashioned pouches like were everywhere in the 90s. He's the third person to wear this uniform and call himself 'Bloodspot' and about the best thing you can say about him is that he isn't the second one. He'll kill anyone for money, regardless of skin color.

Bloodspot grins to himself, setting down and pulling a few tubes out of his Forever Pouch. They're very innocent until put together in just the right way, transmuting into an incredibly potent piece of concentrated evil.

Lois Lane has posed:
While Lois has been poking at this for a few days, she doesn't actually expect anyone to have seen her or realized. As is normal, Lois is fairly certain that she's immortal. Untouchable. Which means she continues munching at her pretzel, oblivious to anything but the energy surge that drink has given her and the handsome man across from her.

"I... do suppose I haven't *actually* eaten dinner, unless you count Cheezits from the vending machine. Oh! And a Fig bar. Fruit. Protein in cheeze. Carbs! See? A dinner." She gives him a little, almost sly smile, knowing she's very well not going to get away with that, but she still has to try. She then looks down at the file on her desk and sighs, "It's... work. I don't know that I'd call it good. I'm no closer to figuring out who officially took over for Alessandro, and how he's slotting back into the business yet. I just have a lot of... threads. No answers."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark sort of lets Lois lean against him while she insists she's fed herself. Or maybe he gets close to her, he's not sure; he's been burning the midnight oil too, honestly, and isn't at his best. Or maybe he is. "It's a start. This is how all good journalism starts, with a lot of legwork and things that don't make sense at first. I can't believe you already have pictures, he's been out, what, a day? Two?" Again there's that mix of concern and what is unmistakably pride; Clark's always been impressed with Lois's work, but it's easier to express it now that the barriers between them have, at least, been severly reduced.

Bloodspot finishes the rifle. It can put a hole through an armored tank or a personal airplane. A window and a woman's head? The mercenary grins unpleasently, locking up the shot. "Ever have a girl die in your arms, Clark Kent?" He mutters to himself. "Hell of a thing, yes yes."

Lois Lane has posed:
As he leans a bit closer, she sinks to the side against him and takes a deep breath. In the cooler evening air, his body was warm and he smelled like the temptations of bed and home. Lois had tossed herself so deeply into work, she almost forgot how nice it was not to be going home to an empty apartment and bed. "You're not playing fair... Smelling so good, being all sweet. Tempting me away from work when, if you were just awful about it, I could be mad and work until three am. But no, you're all... handsome and perfect and suddenly this looks like things that can definitely wait until tomorrow." She teases him lightly.

She then turns her head, leaning up to press a gentle, little kiss to the very corner of his mouth as her nose brushes his cheek. It's not a seductive kiss, but more a tender one. Something grateful, even as her words are complaining. "It's been two days. I want this done by the end of the week." She whispers against his cheek.

Clark Kent has posed:
It's almost unfair. Lois has a whole other weapon to use on him now, 'being adorable'. It's hard to think of anything when she's kissing him like that, and suddenly he wants to stay up with her instead of making sure they both don't die by the time they're 35. The faint smell of sweat as she complains at him tempts Clark to deepen the embrace and, indeed, he finds his arms around her hips, leaning in to give her his own little kis-

Ears twitch.

Seconds, Superman thinks, to act. Lois's fig bar wrapper, left on the floor. Clumsy, oafish Clark Kent's leg twitches while scoring with the girl of his dreams and he presses down on the wrapper, and Lois will feel the both of them slide up into the air, Clark holding onto her as they both fall backwards and totally destroy her office chair, and also send the desk shuffling forward.

The bullet rings through the wall, the window, the desk, and the floor, a perfect, deadly circle.

"Gee, Miss Lane." Clark says, focusing on his super senses and the fact that Lois is not in a thousand pieces in his arms, "I guess Perry was right about office cleanliness."

Lois Lane has posed:
The kiss is very nice. Lois turns her head up, about to meet his lips... When she's suddenly in the air and flat on her back on the floor, his muscled body covering her but not uncomfortably. He knows how to fall. She gives a little yelp of surprise, her heart in her throat a second later as she realizes what's happened. Even if the man used a silencer, the sound of a bullet going through glass, desk, chair, and floor? It's loud. She's heard that sound before. This isn't the first time someone's tried to kill her. But it's the first time she entirely didn't expect it.

She lays beneath him, breathing shallowly for several heartbeats as her head preses into his throat. "W-was... was that what I was thinking it was?" She asks nervously, turning her eyes to the side as she tries to look at her desk and the bullet hole there.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark breathes. Lois can feel his heartbeat from here. It's just the slightest bit erratic, like he's excited. Terrified. Maybe a little of both.

"Yeah." Clark says, taking his glasses off, his voice deepening. "A job for Superman."

Another shot goes off, and Superman already has the shooter pinned. Not like Bloodsport to get so sloppy, Clark thinks. "Has a sniper rifle. Really advanced. Can shoot through just about anything." Clark is looking for places where Lois can be safe long enough for him to take the shooter out, frowning. It's only so long until he thinks to aim DOWN.

Lois Lane has posed:
There's a vault in the basement of the Daily Planet, the building once upon a time having held some private finance company and now it's as much an interestig historical note as it is somewhere to put highly sensitive information on the rare times they get it. Otherwise, there's probably no where entirely safe and near. Lois's fingertips reach up, clutching at his side, especially as she feels that pounding of HIS heart. When he's terrified, she knows it's bad. This shooter is dangerous and she is scared to dare move out from under her parnter for fear of getting an edge of herself shot off.

"Shit... Shit. He's only been out TWO DAYS. This... why already? I don't even have anything printed." She jumps and winces against him, instinctively tucking into his body as she hears another shot going off through the walls. She gives a little gasp and is clinging to him like a second skin now. "Can't you just fly me... like... halfway across the city?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"I." Superman pauses. "Yes, actually."

There's a blast of chill and air. The world returns to normal atop a rooftop; Clark's taken her to the Hall of Justice, of all places, and has somehow found a second to change into his uniform despite carrying her the whole way. Who knows why, he's Superman! "Sorry, I'm not used to you walking away from danger. Are you alright?" Superman asks, touching Lois's cheek. He knows where Bloodsport is, he can take a minute for the important thing.

"What the fuck." Bloodsport says, as his targets vanish. That only means one thing in this town. "Aw no, no no no, gotta..." Bloodsport reaches into his Forever Pouch, pulling out...

...a radio? "Gotta cover my ass before he shows up." Bloodsport slaps the device to the wall, and pulls another one out of his Pouch, running.

Lois Lane has posed:
While Lois nearly never runs from danger, maybe she's found a few other reasons to live these days. And maybe she's not used to the sound of bullets that close to her hallowed working space. There's not a scratch on her, just the cold sweat of a whole bunch of adrenaline pouring into her system on an empty stomach, making her hands slightly shake and heart still race. But she's in one piece. "F-fine... I'm fine." She admits as he asks, one of her shaking hands reaching up to wrap across his palm on her cheek. She presses down a bit tighter, squeezing his hand. Reassuring them both that yes, she is alright, and trying to stop that shake in her fingertips.

"Don't get me wrong, I... want to know who did it. I'd like to grill him until he tells me about his first high school dance. But... not while he's shooting me with bullets like that." A faint smile crosses her now-pale features. "I got a few more reasons to keep breathin' these days." She confesses as she looks up into his eyes. "But. If you can get him, go get him. I'll get all I need to know when he's behind bars."

Clark Kent has posed:
'A few more reasons to keep breathing.'

Clark, for just a second, looks as vulnerable as he does when someone whips out kryptonite. Maybe worse.

It's gone, and he kisses her on the forehead. "I'll be RIGHT back." And he rockets with the speed of a bullet towards the sniper's nest.

Where his world explodes into pain as the sonic disruption generators activate. Superman falls to his knees, eyes wild as his inner ear is attacked; it's like someone found the one frequency his super-hearing couldn't stand!

Clark aims his heat vision, and manages to take out every window in the penthouse before destroying the generators. Bloodsport is long gone. "Damn it." Superman grunts, standing up and brushing glass off of his cape.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois' eyes gently close for a moment as he looks at her like that and kisses her forehead. "I love you..." She whispers, possibly too late as he's rocketing away so fast her hair swishes around her face. But it was important to say. Maybe she didn't remember to say it enough. Then she's walking across the floor of the currently very empty Hall of Justice, to the closest chair, somewhere she can collapse with weak knees and take a moment to just breathe. She can come down off the adrenaline flood without him watching her every move, her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. "God. I need a cigarette." She mutters to no one.