#loistheintrepid

[gonnariphislungsout]

{ ❂  loistheintrepid caught your attention } 

It was just another lousy day in just another lousy bar---when things weren’t all about the research or hunting things that go bump in the night, that was just about as far as the Winchester life went. Oh yes, they had spikes, loads and loads of them, in terms of ups but definitely also downs...but when there was time to wind down and forget about all that for just one evening, Dean would take that opportunity with both hands. 

The company in this particular place wasn’t particularly good, and the word ‘awful’ didn’t even begin to describe the music that played through the crackling old speakers -all two of them, both in opposing corners of the tiny little bar- but at least this place wasn’t a refuge for the supernatural, and more importantly, it provided him with the liquor he needed that evening. 

But between all the small-town scum, there was one person in particular who drew his attention. Someone who seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what drew him to her, not from that far. So in stead, he kept his eyes trained on her until eye contact was established, the ice in his short glass clinking together as he lifted it to his lips and took a sip, allowing the liquor to burn a path down his throat. 

Don’t I know you from somewhere, he thought, but that was an altogether very cheesy pick-up line. Not that his regular lines weren’t tacky, but that one was outstanding in terms of poor ways to start conversation.

[hawksvane-archive]

loistheintrepid

    “Please tell me this is a “let’s have lunch” call and not a “please save my ass” call. Was that a boat fog?”

[sgtbarnacle-archive-blog]

loistheintrepid

“Okay but look me in the face and tell me it’s not a bad idea for us to be seen together.”

[hawksvane-archive]

loistheintrepid

    “You gotta be more discreet with those knives, Lois. They might be fooled by your innocent face from a distance but you will still attract a cop’s attention up close.”

[chosehope]

There’s still something stunning about standing in the lobby of the Daily Planet. The building is old, dark marble and brass with cut lead windows above the reception desk. Clark always has a moment when he pauses at the front, reading the inscription of the motto over the elevator banks- brass and tarnished, but with this one spot rubbed bright as every reporter slaps their fingers against it when heading to their floor. The whole building is a love letter to Art Deco and he closes his eyes and knuckles the glasses higher on his nose. He shrugs the messenger bag higher on his shoulder, scrunching the blue shaded plaid off kilter and ducks low, hunching his shoulders in and muttering apologies as he tries to get to the doors before they close. It’s a near miss, his fingers getting squeezed before the door and the occupants sigh crankily. He manages a sheepish apology and edges into the jam packed elevator.

It’s seventeen floors up and the crod thins out as they move, the smell of different perfumes and colognes becoming less of a blatant assault and more of a lingering slap. The last stop is the bullpen and it opens to a riot of sound. He always has to pause there, blinking away the sheer press of volume and letting it wash over him. He’s got his hair flopping around his face today, a stark and tangled contrast to the other him. Hestumbles as he leaves, looking back to throw a mild glare at the lip of the carpet and backing into George as he heads for his desk. George swears at him in three languages before tilting his head back. “Lane! Come get your damn puppy before he pees on the fucking floor!”

Clark blushes and tosses Lois a boyish smile, charming despite himself. She’s glaring at him as she talks on the phone and types simultaneously. She’s terrifying and he can’t help but wish he could warm the two lattes he’s holding before he runs into her. “Hey.”

[loistheintrepid]

“Hey, that ‘idiotic’ crap has won me a Pulitzer or two.” She shot him a grin. “Seriously, though, who put you up to it? I should at least get to know the names of whoever wants me dead…”

[sgtbarnacle-archive-blog]

x

“Better for you not to know,” he reassures her, honestly, although he knows not knowing is gonna kill her. The very thought sneaks across his face in the form of a tiny smile as he pats her shoulder. “I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight.”

[hawksvane-archive]

     "That wasn't fair. I was winning. I was actually winning the game for once. How did you even--"

[sgtbarnacle-archive-blog]

An Offer You Can't Refuse | loistheintrepid

Nearly a week had passed since their unorthodox meeting, his coming foreshadowed in a way James would very much have preferred it not be. This was a formal request, and he'd made it that way, had given a false name and arrived in what today's generation called casual business dress. Really, he needed to set an impression, and all he had hoped for the past five days was that he hadn't already given her the wrong one.

Her secretary was kind enough, and the building was not difficult to navigate. He'd cleaned himself up recently, in preparation. Gotten his hair trimmed by a professional, practised slicking it back and how to walk like he wasn't weighed down by an extra thirty pounds on one side. Months of training himself made it easy to smile at all the faces he passed, engage only the few that he needed to, and look comfortable waiting outside her office.

In reality, of course, he was flooded with cool terror. This was the end of his life. They were drawing so close to a tipping point, and he had just barely made it in time. Thank God he'd had the strength to go through with this step on his own. It may just save his life.