Chapter 15
Lana Lang woke slowly, yawned cutely, and stretched her arms above her head. She reached across the mattress and found only a flat plain of cotton that was slightly rumpled and distinctly empty. Her hand patted at the expanse of empty sheet, searching for a ridge of muscle, a mess of dark hair, or, at the very least, a steady presence of light snoring beside her. None of those were anywhere to be found.
She blinked away the sleepiness and rolled onto her side. The house was silent, but sunlight already poked between the blinds and cast rectangles on the hardwood floor. She yawned, gathered her hair into a loose bunch, and surveyed the room with narrow, sleepy eyes. Harry's clothes from yesterday were gone from their usual heap on the chair. The only evidence of him was a stray pair of socks peeking out from under the bed.
She inhaled deeply. The pillow next to hers still smelled like him. She buried her face in it for an extra second, then forced herself to get up and shuffle to the bathroom. Her reflection made her wince. Her hair was a complete mess, there were pink sleep lines on her cheek, and the corners of her eyes were a bit crusty. Sometimes it annoyed her that she woke up looking like this, while Harry always looked his most handsome when he first woke. It wasn't fair.
She brushed her teeth and washed her face with cold water, which brought her fully awake. She pulled on a navy sweatshirt and shorts and padded down the stairs. Halfway down, she caught the scent of bacon sizzling in a pan. That woke her up better than coffee ever could.
She hit the bottom step and stopped. The kitchen was alive with various sounds. Harry stood at the stove, using his powers to juggle three pans at once. He hummed loudly and off-key, which made Lana smile. On the kitchen table sat a massive bouquet of white lilies. They were all fresh and dewy, and they were arranged so well that they looked ready for a magazine shoot. Next to them was a chocolate cake with pale pink piping around the edges and the words 'Happy Birthday Lana' scrawled in light green piping. The writing was definitely Harry's. She'd seen enough of his chicken scratch writing to know for sure.
Lana froze in the doorway, and her mind raced. She'd been so wrapped up in classes, Harry's wild side projects, and the never-ending drama of Smallville that she'd completely lost track of her own calendar. She hadn't thought about her birthday in weeks.
A single wrapped box sat beside the cake. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or run away in embarrassment. Instead, she just stood there while her heart drummed loudly in her chest.
Harry saw her and broke into a grin. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he called out, while flipping a pancake. "And, um, happy birthday. If I'd known you'd be awake this early, I'd have put on some decent clothes."
She looked him over. He wore a tight black T-shirt and ratty gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair stuck up in three different directions, and there was a streak of flour on his jaw. Even like this … or especially like this, Lana thought … he looked better than anyone had a right to.
"I forgot it was today," she said, still slightly stunned. "I can't believe I forgot."
Harry removed a pancake from the pan and set it on a plate. He then walked over to her. "That's what you get for living with me. There's always something crazy going on." He pecked her on the cheek, and Lana leaned in, hoping to receive a few more.
"You're not wrong about that," she said, remaining close to him. In fact, she leaned in closer and soaked up the heat rolling off him. It was quite chilly this early in the morning. His arms slid around her waist, and he pulled her close until her bare feet almost lifted off the ground.
"You're shaking," Harry said, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"It's cold," Lana protested, though her cheeks were very, very warm.
He kissed her forehead and spoke directly into her strawberry-scented hair, "I hope you like lilies. I had to go all the way to Metropolis to get them."
Lana melted a little more. She let herself relax into the hug, resting her cheek against his chest and breathing in his now familiar smell. For a moment, she forgot about all the strangeness and secrets that filled their lives. She just stood there, soaking in the comfort of being held by someone who had, against all odds, become her best friend.
From the stove, a loud crackle interrupted them. Harry didn't even turn his head. "You're going to have to let go, or your breakfast is going to get burned," he said, his voice muffled in her hair.
"I don't care," Lana replied, and squeezed him tighter.
Harry laughed warmly and lifted her clean off the floor. He set her down beside the stove and turned his full attention to the pans while Lana continued to cling to his side.
She watched him flip bacon with one hand and scramble eggs with the other. He then added just the right amount of salt and pepper. He plated everything and handed it to her with a smile. "Your birthday breakfast, Miss Lang," he said, presenting her with a perfectly stacked plate of pancakes, eggs, and crispy bacon.
She sat at the kitchen table, pulled her knees up to her chest, and stared at the lilies. She reached out and ran her fingers over a petal. Harry came up behind her, set a mug of coffee at her elbow, and sat across from her.
"Go ahead," he said, nodding to the gift. "You can open your present first, if you want."
Lana looked at the box. The gift wrapping had cute little cartoon pictures of horses in party hats. "This is going to sound so corny," she admitted. "But I'm already overwhelmed." She pushed her hair behind one ear and studied the cake. "You even did the writing. I'm impressed."
"I put in a solid hour's work on the cake, so be kind when tasting it."
She reached for the gift with trembling hands and tore away the paper. Inside was a worn hardcover book. It was an old collection of French fairy tales, with gold-embossed edges and a faded blue cover. On the first page, in Harry's scrawl, was a note.
'May your stories always have a happy ending.'
She didn't say anything for a while. She read the inscription twice, then touched the edge of the page with her thumb. Harry watched her with a soft smile. "I got it at that weird used bookstore in Metropolis," Harry said, suddenly sounding shy. "It just looked like something you'd like."
Lana blinked hard, fighting off the sudden sting in her eyes. She loved how easy it was for him to get to her. She shut the book and reached for his hand. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick and full of emotion. "This is …" She shook her head, searching for words. "This is better than that cake," she joked.
Harry squeezed her fingers, then slid her plate closer. "That's not saying much. I made the cake, remember?" he joked back.
Lana laughed and squeezed his hand one more time before she picked up a fork and demolished half the pancakes in three minutes, licking syrup from the corner of her mouth. Harry watched her with a smile, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes.
"So," he said, leaning forward on his elbows. "Is there anything you want to do for your birthday?"
She wiped her lips with a napkin and thought about it. She knew she could ask for anything, and Harry would do it. She could ask for a day trip, a night out, or something wild and magical, but there was only one thing she wanted.
"I just want to spend the day with you," Lana said, looking directly into his eyes. "Just the two of us." She smiled a little shyly. "Is that okay?"
Harry looked at her for a long moment, his expression open and honest. "That's perfect," he said. "I wouldn't want to be with anyone else." Lana smiled prettily and blushed at his words.
The Last Guardian
Lana lingered in the bathroom with her hands braced on either side of the sink. She watched herself in the mirror as she tried to breathe evenly while her heart pounded with an urgency that had nothing to do with her birthday or cake or even the perfect day Harry had given her. She'd expected to feel tired by now, but instead she felt impossibly awake. It was only ten o'clock, and her body thrummed with anticipation. All she wanted was to get into bed with Harry so she could spend more time with him.
She toweled off, brushed her teeth, and then grabbed one of Harry's t-shirts. She pulled it over her head and let the hem settle high on her smooth thighs. She caught a glimpse in the mirror. She smiled at the sight of her bare legs and curvy hips. She checked herself out one last time before she scampered into the bedroom.
The room was dim, and the low light gave it a really romantic feel. Harry was already on the bed, half-propped up by a pillow against the headboard. His hair was even messier than usual. He had an open book in his lap, but he wasn't reading. He was staring into space, lost in some thought. She hesitated for a second, watching him. Her stomach did a flip, and then she crossed to the bed and slipped under the covers, scooting right against his side. Almost instantly, she felt Harry's powers dry her body and hair.
She burrowed into his warmth, burrowing her face into the curve of his neck. "You know," she said as her lips brushed his skin. "You've set an impossibly high standard for future birthdays. I hope you realize that."
Harry closed the book, placed it facedown on the nightstand, and turned to her with a sheepish smile creasing his face. "I figure I only have to impress you once a year. That's manageable," he chuckled. He let his arm settle around her shoulder, and his fingers caressed her upper arm. The heat from his skin felt really good, and Lana felt herself relax into it. She slipped one of her legs between his under the blanket.
She tipped her head back so she could look at him. "Thank you for today." The words sounded too simple for everything she wanted to say, but she knew Harry would understand. He always did.
He smiled, and his eyes softened. "You're welcome. I'm just glad you liked it. I never know with you. Sometimes I think you'd rather be off having an adventure than settle for a quiet day at home."
She poked him in the ribs. "Sometimes, sure. But mostly I just want someone to make me pancakes and not act annoyed when I steal half the sheets."
He laughed, and his chest rumbled against her ear. "You can have all the sheets, Lana." He tugged her closer, tucking her under his chin, and for a while they were quiet. The only sounds were the wind outside and the faint thump of Harry's heart just beneath her cheek.
She let her mind drift over the day. She pictured the rolling hills of the trail ride and how Harry nearly fell off the horse several times. She remembered giggling wildly down at the lake when she tried to swim away from Harry while he was tugging her back to him by her ankle. She thought about the way Harry had wrapped her in a towel and dried her hair with a gentle flash of his power. The memory made her smile now, and she snaked her hand up behind his neck, pulling him down until their foreheads touched.
"Harry," she said, her voice suddenly serious.
He looked down with his eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
She hesitated for a second, searching his face. "Have you ever…?" She fumbled with her words, and her cheeks grew hot. "Have you ever thought about me … in a romantic kind of way?"
Harry was surprised by her question, and his ears went slightly pink. "Yeah, of course. You're really beautiful, and I love spending time with you," he honestly stated.
She blushed deeply and brushed his hair off his forehead. She let her thumb linger on his cheek, feeling the scratch of the stubble there. Suddenly feeling emboldened, she leaned up and kissed him on the mouth.
It was a soft, uncertain kiss at first. Her lips pressed to his, but she kept it gentle and slow as if testing out the waters. He didn't move. He let her do whatever she wanted. When she pulled an inch away and peeked at him, she saw the look in his eyes. There was a little bit of shock, delight, and, much to her excitement, lust.
"Is that okay?" she whispered. "I mean, I know I didn't ask first, but I …"
He cut her off by kissing her back. Harry's kiss was full of confidence, and his hand cradled the back of her head. The kiss deepened, growing wilder and more passionate, until she was breathless and a little dizzy. She giggled against his lips, and he laughed too. The tension melted away all at once.
"That was okay," he said, and kissed her again.
She shifted her body and swung a leg over his lap, so she was straddling him. Her t-shirt rode up to expose her hips and the pale blue material of her panties. She didn't care. She wanted him to see her and to know she was more than ready for this. Her hands went to his face, and her fingers lightly traced his jaw and chin. She kissed him harder this time, letting all her desires bubble to the surface.
Harry's hands slid to her waist, and his fingers slid over the curve of her hips. He held her tightly and squeezed her hips possessively. She pressed closer, feeling the bulge in his boxers through the thin cotton of her panties. Lana moaned into his mouth when she accidentally ground her crotch into it.
She shifted again, breathing heavily. "Harry," she said, pulling back just enough to see his eyes. "I want to …" she started, but the words stuck in her throat. She gathered her courage and tried again. "I want you to touch me," she said in a shaky voice.
Harry hesitated slightly, searching her face for any sign of doubt. After not seeing any, he nodded, and he ran his hands up her sides, under the hem of the t-shirt, and over her ribs. Lana gasped at the intimacy of the touch. His fingertips drifted across her bare stomach. She shivered at the sensation, and she let her tense muscles relax.
Lana closed her eyes, letting her head fall to his shoulder, and she felt him kiss the top of her head, the bridge of her nose, her jaw, and finally her chin, as if he wanted to explore every inch of her. He always made her feel beautiful, but now, she also felt brave. This is the first time she has ever let anyone touch her like this, and strangely enough, she wasn't all that nervous. Sure, her body was trembling, but that was more to do with the pleasure he was making her feel.
He tipped her back onto the bed until she was beneath him, and the t-shirt bunched up around her hips. She could feel the cool air on her exposed belly, and she shuddered when he ran his hand up her thigh. She looked up at his handsome face and blushed hard when he looked into her eyes.
She hooked her ankles behind his knees and pulled him closer. Her hands found their way to the small of his back. He brushed his fingers over her smooth stomach, and his thumbs circled just above the waistband of her panties. Lana let out a small, involuntary gasp that made Harry stop and look at her.
"It's okay," she said breathlessly. "It just felt good. Keep going," she quietly demanded, her voice trembling with desire. She squeezed his hand between her legs, and Harry's knuckles brushed the heat of her inner thigh as she guided his touch beneath the soft cotton of her panties. His fingertips found her slit, and it was already soaked and desperate for attention. He hesitated only long enough to meet her eyes. Lana looked back at him, bit her bottom lip cutely, and nodded.
Harry pressed the flat of his thumb against her clit and began to move it in agonizingly slow circles. Lana arched her back into his palm, gasping at the spike of pleasure that rippled through her body. The sensation was so intense and mind-numbingly good that she almost laughed at herself for ever being nervous to be touched like this. She dug her fingers into the sheets while Harry bent his head to her neck and trailed kisses from her jaw down to the hollow of her throat. He sucked gently at her skin, teasing her with his teeth, and Lana whimpered in response.
She wanted his hands, his mouth, and his weight on her, and she wanted it now. She tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, and Harry helped her peel it off. The air in the room was cool, and her nipples stiffened immediately. Harry lingered for a moment, just looking at her, as if he couldn't believe she was letting him see her like this. For the first time in her life, Lana wanted to be stared at. She wanted Harry to see her body. She arched her back and showed off her naked breasts. They were round, perky, and capped with stiff, pink nipples.
Harry cupped her breast and leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth. He sucked, licked, and teased the hard little bead until she squirmed under him, desperate for more pleasure. His other hand kept working her clit, never breaking the rhythm, and she felt her body begin to spiral out of her control. It was like a dam breaking. All the sexual tension and longing she'd been carrying flooded through her at once, and the pleasure built so quickly that she could barely keep up with it. Her hips rocked into Harry's hand, smearing it with her juices, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to lock him in place.
"Oh my god, oh god," she repeated in a wild, high-pitched voice. Harry then took it further by slipping two fingers inside her. Every nerve in her body lit up, and she felt herself clamp down around his fingers. She looked up at Harry and saw him watching her with a kind of worshipful awe, as if he was grateful to be the one making her fall apart. He pressed his lips to hers, and Lana opened her mouth and invited him in.
Her climax hit so hard, she couldn't even make a sound. Her body shook, her vision blurred, and she clung to Harry as if he were the only thing keeping her anchored to reality. He kept gently stroking her soaked pussy until she cried out and squeezed her legs together. Lana wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while her chest rapidly rose and fell. She finally let out a satisfied laugh.
Harry pulled her into his arms and held her tight against his chest. "Are you okay?" he asked into her hair.
Lana nodded as she tried to catch her breath. She pressed her face into his shoulder and breathed him in. "I'm so much better than okay," she finally managed. She hid her face against his chest and laughed again, giddy and overwhelmed at the newness of it all.
Harry pressed his lips to hers, and Lana leaned into the kiss. "Good," he said. "Because I really like you, Lana."
She smiled up at him. Her face was still flushed, and her body was still tingling from the orgasm. "I really like you too," she said, and she meant it.
Lana curled up against his chest and snuggled deep, not caring that her bare breasts were rubbing against him. Harry wrapped an arm around her and gently played with the skin of her lower back. Lana shuddered and playfully bit down on his shoulder.
"Hey!" Harry called out in surprise. He then tickled Lana's ribs, which caused her to squeal and jerk away. She tried to tickle him back, and somehow it all ended with Lana straddling his lap. His hands cupped her ass, and Lana's eyes fluttered seductively. She looked down at him, and she saw the lust in his eyes. She knew that their night had just gotten started.
Chapter 16
Harry jolted awake in the darkness. He was drenched in sweat, and his heart thumped against the inside of his chest like it was trying to break out. For a few seconds, he just stared into the dark, blank ceiling, waiting for his vision to adjust. The air felt cold on his skin, but under the sheet, he burned like an engine left running too long. He wiped the back of his palm across his sweaty forehead. A harsh tingle ran up his arms and legs and pooled in his chest.
He sucked in a slow breath and let it out, trying to get himself under control. Next to him, Lana breathed in and out softly, a sound that would have been cute if Harry wasn't on the verge of panic. He slid a hand over to her shoulder and squeezed it, as much for his own reassurance as hers.
Lana rolled onto her side, pulled down the cover, and blinked at him with puffy, sleepy eyes. She was naked, and her hair was splayed over her cheek. She peered up at Harry with a look that could only be described as sexy. "What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"It's still dark out," Harry said. He tried to keep his voice light, but it came out shaky. "Sorry for waking you."
Lana squinted at him, then ran a hand down his chest. Her palm came away slick with sweat. She propped herself up on an elbow. "Are you okay?" she asked, now properly awake.
Harry shook his head. "It feels like my skin's crawling," he said. "I think something's wrong with me."
"Nightmare?" she asked.
He shook his head again. "No, not that. It's different." He pushed the sheet down and swung his legs off the bed. The cool air hit his bare body, but he barely noticed. He braced his elbows on his knees and hunched forward, trying to shake the feeling out of his limbs.
Lana sat up too, the sheet falling from her body. Her skin seemed extra pale in the dim bedroom. She pressed a palm to his back, then drew it back sharply, like she'd touched a stovetop. "You're burning up," she said. She reached for his face and touched his feverish forehead.
Harry didn't answer. He could feel a strange energy humming under his skin, building and building with nowhere to go. He glanced over at Lana, and his vision fuzzed around the edges. The hum inside him became a full-on vibration, and the next thing he knew, the world exploded in green.
It started at his sternum. It was a single, blinding point of light. Then ripped through him in a wave that lit up the entire room. The green energy poured out of his body, igniting the air with crackling light. He could see the bones of his own hands. For a second, the pain was so sharp it pushed every thought out of his head. He grunted and clenched his eyes shut. It was over as soon as it began. The green light vanished, and Harry collapsed forward, panting.
Lana screamed, clutching the sheet to her chest. She crawled toward him and grabbed his shoulders. "Harry! Harry, talk to me!" Her voice was loud and frightened.
He coughed, then looked at her through watering eyes. "I'm good," he gasped. "I'm okay. It's gone."
Lana stared at him, not convinced. She ran her hands up and down his arms, searching for a wound or sign of injury. "What the hell was that?" she whispered.
"I don't know," Harry said. His voice was steadying. "I think there was something wrong with me, and my power reacted to fix whatever it was. Sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out." He forced a smile and wiped a streak of sweat from his chin.
Lana exhaled shakily. "You could've warned me." She sounded mad, but her hand didn't leave his shoulder.
Harry shrugged and caressed her arm. "I didn't know it was coming," he said. "It feels better now, though. A lot better." He looked down at himself. There were no marks or any other sign that anything had been wrong. He ran a hand over his chest, then over the muscles of his stomach, and everything felt just like it always did.
Lana sat back, clutching the sheet tight around herself. "You still look like hell," she said.
Harry snorted. "Yeah, but now I feel like a million bucks." He stood up. His body moved with effortless ease. The tremor was gone, replaced by a restless energy.
He crossed to the window and pulled back the curtains. He lifted the window, letting in the pre-dawn light. The fields outside were dark, and the wind was rustling the trees. He pressed his forehead to the glass and squinted into the gloom.
Lana got up, leaving the sheet behind, while not caring about her nudity. She walked over and stood next to him. She reached up and put her hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" she asked, her voice softer.
Harry sniffed the air and made a face. "Something's off out there," he said. "Can't you smell it?"
Lana inhaled, then shook her head. "It just smells like grass and wet dirt. Maybe a little manure."
"Not that," Harry said. "Something else. It smells like a chemical, maybe. It's …" he paused, then wrinkled his nose, searching for the word. "It's almost … metallic."
Lana frowned. She pressed her hand to his back again, then let it drift down his spine. "If you think you're coming down with something, you should go back to bed," she said.
He shook his head. "I'm not sick. I think there's something wrong out there."
"Like what?" Lana asked.
Harry stared out the window. He tried to zero in on the scent, to follow it with his mind. A thin trail of chemical stink cut through the town, almost invisible to the naked eye, but Harry's nose found it easily. It led west, toward the industrial side of Smallville, where the lights of the LuthorCorp plant glowed against the horizon.
"LuthorCorp," Harry said, turning from the window. "It's coming from there."
Lana made a face. "You're not planning to go out there, are you?" She hugged him tightly and looked at him, suddenly sounding small and a little scared.
Harry smiled handsomely at her. "You know me," he said. "I have to check it out. It might be nothing. But if it's something, I don't want it spreading."
Lana didn't answer right away. She chewed her lip, then looked him in the eyes. "Be careful, okay?"
He nodded. "I always am."
She rolled her eyes. "That's a lie." Harry laughed and then kissed her on the forehead.
The air around his body shimmered. For a split second, he was a blur of pale skin and shadow, and then a suit of midnight black and deep green tightly wrapped itself around him, as if it were painted on. Lana couldn't help but check out his muscular ass. A mask shimmered over his face, leaving only his mouth and eyes exposed. He smiled at Lana. "Quit staring at my ass."
She smiled in spite of herself, but her worry didn't fade. She reached for his hand and held it tight. "Don't do anything crazy," she warned.
Harry squeezed her hand back. "I promise. I'll be back before you know it." He leaned in and kissed her. It was quick, but her lips lingered on his longer than he expected. He gave her one last look, then turned and strode to the window.
Harry apparated outside and hovered high in the air. He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. The chemical trail was stronger up here, and it prickled in his sinuses. He inhaled deep, then exhaled, and green light flared around his body. He launched into the sky, arcing upward in a perfect curve. The cold wind slapped at his face, but his powers kept him warm.
He climbed higher, and Smallville spread out below him. The dark patchwork of fields was dotted with light from their farmhouses. The lights of downtown Smallville were easy to spot, as were the bright lights of the LuthorCorp plant. He turned west, following the invisible trail of chemical stink, his body a streak of green and black against the blue-black sky.
The LuthorCorp plant was two miles west of Smallville, and even before Harry reached the perimeter, the stench of chemicals had grown so strong it was like a punch in the face. The smell was acrid, greasy, with a sharp undercurrent that tickled the back of his throat. Harry landed on the roof, rolling through the dense fog of chemical exhaust that spilled from the plant's stacks.
The building's industrial lights glared through the mist. Rows of parking lot lamps flickered below, and somewhere inside, klaxons screamed out a warning. Harry called on his green energy, and his suit shimmered, blending him into the darkness. He moved silently as a ghost, dropping from the roof to a fire escape, then down the side of the building to a loading dock. His feet barely made a sound on the concrete.
He slid past a row of dumpsters and pressed himself flat against the brick wall. Two security guards in hard hats hustled past, their radios crackling. Harry counted five seconds, then stepped through the wall, intangible for just a heartbeat. He suddenly found himself in a hallway lit by humming fluorescent lights. He walked past offices and cubicles, keeping his form invisible to the naked eye. Harry followed the stench, and it led him deeper into the plant, down to a reinforced door marked with black and yellow tape. He phased through, and it was like walking into a war zone.
The main chamber was a cavern of steel and glass. There were catwalks strung high above, pipes running every which way, and a mess of monitoring equipment. The stink of chemicals was so thick that it coated the inside of Harry's mouth with something like battery acid. Workers in hazmat suits swarmed around the edges of the room. Half of them were yelling into walkie-talkies, and the rest pointed at a control panel, where red lights blinked in chaotic patterns.
In the center of the chamber was a room-within-a-room. It was behind thick, reinforced glass, about the size of a tennis court. Inside, the floor was smeared with greenish liquid, and pipes had ruptured, sending steam and sludge everywhere. The ceiling had caved in, and a mess of twisted wiring dangled down, sparking blue arcs onto the wet floor.
Three scientists huddled by the glass, shouting at each other over the alarms. Harry watched one point at the ruined chamber and then clutch his head with both hands.
Two bodies lay sprawled just outside the glass. They were regular workers, not scientists, and they convulsed on the concrete, their limbs jerking in awful, puppet-like spasms. Their faces were red and slick with sweat. One had bitten clean through his tongue, blood pooling on the floor. Harry flickered back to visibility, and the nearest scientist saw him, recoiled, and tripped over his own feet. The other two spun around, startled.
Harry ignored them. He knelt next to the convulsing workers and checked for a pulse. Both were rapid but strong. He hovered a hand over the first one, and green light spilled down, wrapping the man in a gentle cocoon. The spasms slowed, then stopped. Harry repeated the trick on the other one, who came to with a gasp.
By then, the scientists had regrouped. The eldest of the group was a balding man with thick glasses fogged at the edges. He straightened his lab coat and tried to sound authoritative. "Who are you?" he demanded. "You can't be in here. This is a restricted …"
Harry held up a finger. "Quiet." His tone cut through the alarms and the shouting, and everyone stopped talking.
He glanced over his shoulder at the ruined lab, then back at the scientists. "What the hell happened here?" he asked.
The bald scientist tried again. "That's classified. You need to leave … now." He thumbed a button on his radio. "Security, we've got a breach in Lab Six. Unknown male, black and green suit …"
Harry rolled his eyes and reached for the green power. The room pulsed with sudden light. He flicked his hand, and all three scientists lifted gently off the floor, suspended in the air like sad, middle-aged balloons. "Let's try that again," Harry said. "What happened, and what are you making here?"
The scientists panicked, kicking and grabbing at nothing. The bald one's glasses fell off and dangled by their cord. "Please!" he yelped. "Put us down!"
Harry cocked his head. "Tell me, and I'll consider it."
The youngest scientist, who couldn't have been more than thirty, blurted out, "It was an experiment! We were testing a new compound! It was supposed to be contained …"
Harry pointed at the bodies on the floor. "You call that containment?"
The head scientist finally gave up. He dropped the radio and babbled, "We were working with meteor rock. We're creating a new synthetic gas for the military. However, meteor rocks are highly unstable, and the pressure spiked past critical. The rest of the team panicked, and …" He gestured helplessly at the convulsing workers, then at the ruined lab. "I tried to tell them, but nobody would listen. The gas leak set off the emergency protocol, but we couldn't shut it down in time."
Harry stared at the bubbling green puddles in the glass room. "What does this stuff do?" he asked.
The scientist stared at the floor. "Theoretically, it triggers the amygdala and induces a full-blown fear response. The idea was to incapacitate enemy combatants …"
"So it's a fear bomb," Harry guessed.
The scientist nodded miserably. "Basically, yes."
Harry sighed. He looked at the two workers, now sitting up and trembling. "Did it leak outside?" he asked.
The scientist looked away, then nodded. "The entire east wing vented before we could stop it. Some of it must have gone up the stack. We were able to trigger a burn-off, so the stack only vented for a few seconds."
Harry frowned. That meant the chemical cloud was drifting over Smallville, right now. He let the scientists dangle in the air for a moment longer, then set them gently on the floor. They landed awkwardly, and the youngest fell flat on his bottom.
Harry strode to the control panel. His presence there set off a second wave of panic, and two more guards came sprinting into the room. They saw Harry, then stopped dead, recognizing him from the security briefings that everyone in the region had probably seen by now. The lead guard went for his sidearm, but Harry didn't even flinch.
He looked at the head scientist. "Can you neutralize the gas?"
The scientist shook his head. "It's already dispersed. The only way to stop it is to let the wind take it out of the area, or…" He trailed off.
Harry thought for a moment, then held up his hand. His power swelled, and a surge of green energy shot from his fingers, snaking through the air and into the ruined glass chamber. The liquid inside began to bubble, then vaporized in a flash of green fire. The pipes snapped straight, the wiring zipped back into place, and the whole lab repaired itself in seconds.
The scientists stared at him in dumbstruck awe. Harry turned to the guards. "Nobody comes in here without full gear, understood?" Both guards nodded, their eyes wide.
He turned back to some other workers on the floor. They were starting to convulse but were still conscious. He held out both hands, and the green energy wrapped around them. Their shaking stopped, and Harry kept the healing flow steady for another minute, until they were all able to stand.
The silence that followed was total. Harry eyed the head scientist. "Congratulations. You just gassed the whole town."
The man blanched, his hands trembling. "We didn't mean to …"
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "LuthorCorp is going to have a lot to answer for. You can spin it however you want, but the people won't be pleased. I suggest shutting this whole project down."
He apparated out, appearing high in the air. From there, he looked out over the fields and the town beyond. The sun was still not up, but a faint, sickly haze hung in the air above Main Street.
Harry took one last breath, still tasting the chemical stink, then launched himself into the sky and headed for home.
The Last Guardian
Harry landed in the backyard and went straight through the kitchen door. The clock in the kitchen read 5:44 a.m. The whole house was dark, but there was a sliver of light under their bedroom door. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the burn of chemical residue in his sinuses. He wasn't sure if it was psychosomatic or if the meteor gas had clung to him on a molecular level. He wanted nothing more than to scrub his skin raw, but he needed to check on Lana first. He crept down the hallway and slipped inside.
It swung open, and Lana was there, barefoot, wearing a tiny nightgown that showed off most of her sexy legs. She had a phone in one hand and her hair in a sloppy bun. She took one look at Harry, darted over, and threw her arms around his neck.
"Are you okay?" she demanded. "You were gone for half an hour!"
Harry chuckled and hugged her back. "It wasn't that long," he said, but his voice was hoarse from the chemical burn. He let her hold onto him. Her arms were warm and tight, and after a moment, he kissed the top of her head. She shivered at his touch.
She pulled back and looked at his face. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry.
"LuthorCorp had a chemical leak," he said. "They were making a nasty gas with refined meteor rocks. It hit the town early this morning, but I fixed the damage. I'm not sure if the town's people will be affected. I'll keep an eye on things and step in if I need to, but we'll just have to wait and see."
Lana's nose wrinkled cutely. "Is that why you smell like a gas station bathroom?"
Harry snorted. "Probably. You should go brush your teeth before you start criticizing."
She laughed, and the tension drained from her shoulders. "You're the worst," she said, but her fingers stayed on his arm, squeezing gently. "And just so you know, I DID brush my teeth," she added, poking him in the ribs.
Harry drew a deep breath and met her eyes. "You didn't feel weird while I was gone, did you?" he asked.
Lana shook her head. "No. Why?"
He smiled and held out his hand. "Let me do a quick sweep, just in case. If any chemicals got into your system, I can flush them out."
Lana hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Alright. But if I turn into a meteor freak, I'm suing you for emotional distress."
He took her hand, and green light blossomed between their palms. The energy ran up Lana's arm and spread over her body in a soft glow, leaving her face illuminated and her eyes even bigger than before. She looked down at herself, then back at him. "Weird," she said. "It feels like a thousand soda bubbles in my veins."
"It'll pass," Harry said, watching the glow fade. "There you go. All clear."
Lana let go of his hand. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked in a small voice.
Harry smiled, then let his suit flicker away. He stood there naked as the last of the green shimmer crawled off his skin. "Never better," he promised.
Lana burst out laughing. "Show-off," she said. She let her eyes roam over him, not even trying to be subtle. "You know, the first time I saw you naked, I thought you were a Greek statue come to life. Now I just think you're an idiot."
"A Greek statue with a nice ass?" Harry asked hopefully.
"That's debatable," she shot back, but she was smiling again. "Are you going to stand there all morning, or do you want to take a shower and wash off the gross smell?"
Harry pointed at her. "I like the way you think."
He turned and padded into the bathroom, leaving Lana behind. He heard her giggle as he closed the door. He flipped on the light and climbed straight into the shower.
The water was freezing at first, but it grew hotter with every second that passed. He scrubbed every inch of his skin, then let the water pound against the back of his neck. The chemicals had left his skin feeling greasy and nasty. After a second round of scrubbing, he let himself relax, his head bowed under the hot spray of water. Then, the shower door clicked open.
He looked up, and a naked Lana slipped in, blushing so hard she looked sunburned. She pressed her back against the tile and peeked at him from under her lashes. "Is this okay?" she asked nervously.
Harry smiled and nodded. "It's more than okay," he assured her.
She stepped closer, and water ran down her sexy body. She touched his chest and ran a finger down to his stomach. Her eyes immediately found the massive erection pointed straight at her smooth, toned belly.
"It's happy to see you," he teased, and Lana laughed.
She shook her head and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush to his body. He felt her shiver before melting into his embrace. She tilted her face up, and he kissed her. At first, it was gentle and loving, but it quickly deepened. Their bodies pressed together under the spray, and her arms snaked around his neck as his hands roamed down to cup her ass. She moaned softly against his mouth.
He picked her up easily, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. The motion was fluid, like they'd practiced it a hundred times before. He pressed her against the cool tile, and she gasped at the sensation, burying her face in his neck. She could feel his cock pressing against her entrance, but she didn't worry about him taking things too far. He had already promised to let her decide when the right time was. Lana knew the time was coming very soon, but she didn't want their first time to be in the shower. Still, she giggled and teased him by rubbing herself against him. Harry groaned pitifully and kissed her again. Lana smiled into his lips, feeling freer than she had in a very long time.
Chapter 17
Harry waved as the farmer's pickup pulled away, towing the purchased tractor behind it. The tractor's fresh paint gleamed in the afternoon sun, and Harry felt a warm thrum of satisfaction watching his handiwork roll down the dusty lane. Three thousand dollars in cash was tucked into his back pocket, and the weight of it made him grin. He'd spent only a few minutes fixing the thing, enabling him to sell it cheap, and the look on the farmer's face when he'd fired it up had been worth every minute.
"If you have any problems with it, just call me!" Harry called after him, cupping his hands around his mouth.
The farmer waved back, one hand on the steering wheel of his ancient Chevy. The truck belched a cloud of black smoke as he hit the gas, and Harry watched them disappear around the bend, the trailer bouncing over a deep pothole.
He turned and kicked a clod of dirt. The sale had gone well. The farmer had tried to talk him down to two thousand, but Harry had held firm. Three grand was still a steal for a machine that ran as smoothly as this one did, and the farmer knew it as well. He figured he'd give it a shot anyway.
His phone rang, and he fished it out of his jeans. Lana's name flashed on the screen. He flipped it open to answer, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he headed back toward the house.
"Hey, Lana," Harry happily greeted her. "What's up?"
"Harry," she said, and he heard her take a quick, shaky breath. "There's something going on in town. People are sick. A lot of people. The hospital's standing room only, and they're bringing in more ambulances."
Harry's mouth went dry. "Sick how?" He, of course, already knew the answer.
"I don't know exactly. The news is saying it's some kind of chemical exposure, but they're not giving details." She dropped her voice, like she was trying not to be overheard. "I saw three police cars go by with their lights on, heading toward the Luthor plant. Do you think it could be …"
He didn't let her finish. "Where are you now?"
"At the Talon. I'm helping Chloe set up cots in the back room. Some people came in feeling dizzy, and now they can't drive home." She paused. "Harry, should I be worried?"
He was already striding toward the barn, away from where any neighbors might see. "No," he said firmly, though his own heart was starting to hammer. "Just stay put, okay? I'm coming to get you."
"Meet me at the hospital. I've got a few people here who have lost consciousness, and I need to get them some help. There are no ambulances available, so I have to drive them myself," Lana told him.
"Alright. Just be careful. I'll be there in a few minutes," he told her, then hung up before she could say more. As soon as the call ended, he broke into a run, ducking into the barn where no one could see him from the road. He pressed his back against the rough wood siding and closed his eyes.
The green energy came easily, rushing through his veins like a flash flood. It tingled across his skin, raising goosebumps even as it wrapped him in the tight black and green fabric of his suit. The mask formed last, covering the upper half of his face while leaving his mouth free. He took one deep breath, then pushed off from the ground.
The barn walls whipped past his face, and then he was airborne, arcing up into the clear blue sky. Smallville spread out below him in a patchwork of fields and rooftops. From up here, he couldn't see anything wrong. The only thing out of the ordinary was the lack of traffic. No one was driving. He squinted and saw ambulance lights in the far distance. He had hoped that the chemical leak at the LuthorCorp plant wouldn't cause a wide-scale disaster, but if Lana was scared enough to call …
He pointed himself toward town and flew faster.
The Last Guardian
Harry spotted Lana from high above. She was pacing in the hospital parking lot, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the cold. He dipped lower, slowed his flight, and landed behind a row of ambulances where only a few startled paramedics could see him.
He stepped out from between two emergency vehicles and waved. Her face lit up, and she ran toward him, not even breaking stride when she registered the green and black suit.
"Harry!" she whispered, grabbing his arm. Her fingers dug into the strange material of his costume. "I was starting to think you'd taken the long way."
He shook his head, scanning the crowded parking lot. Dozens of people milled around, some sitting on the curb, others leaning against car hoods. A few wore masks, and he saw at least three people vomiting into the hospital's decorative shrubbery.
"What's happening inside?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
She tugged him further from the main doors. "They're not letting anyone else in. There are too many people already. The waiting room is full, and they've set up cots in the hallways." She bit her lip. "I talked to a nurse who came out for a smoke break. She said it's some kind of chemical exposure, but they don't know exactly what."
Harry nodded, already expecting as much.
A sudden commotion at the ambulance bay drew his attention. Two paramedics were rushing a gurney toward the doors, and the person on it was convulsing, their body arching off the thin padding. Without thinking, Harry rushed over, pulling away from Lana's grip.
"Hey!" she called after him, but he was already weaving through the crowd.
He reached the ambulance just as the paramedics were wrestling the gurney through the double doors. The man on it was elderly, his face flushed an unnatural red, and foam flecked the corners of his mouth. One of the paramedics was shouting vitals to the nurse who met them at the door.
"... seizing for three minutes straight. BP one-seventy over …"
Harry didn't let them finish. He pushed past the nurse and laid his hand on the old man's forehead. The green energy surged from his palm without him having to consciously call it, washing over the man's face and chest in a shimmering wave.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" The paramedic grabbed for his wrist, but Harry ignored him while keeping contact with the patient. The paramedic tried to pry his arm away, but it was like trying to pull a tree out by its roots. His arm didn't budge an inch.
The convulsions stopped. The man's back arched one final time, then he collapsed onto the gurney, his breathing suddenly deep and even. Harry pulled his hand back, watching as the red flush faded from the man's cheeks.
The paramedic stared at the patient. "What did you ..." He trailed off, his eyes widening as he took in the green and black suit, and the mask covering half of Harry's face.
"Is he …?" The nurse started to ask, but the old man's eyes fluttered open.
"Where's Jenny?" he mumbled, trying to push himself up on one elbow. "Need to ... finish the north field before dark."
Harry stepped back, letting the medical staff swarm around the suddenly conscious patient. Over their heads, he caught Lana's eye. She was hovering at the edge of the crowd that had gathered, her face a mix of worry and pride.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. "You need to come with me, right now." The security guard's voice was firm, but his hand trembled slightly. Harry could feel the man's uncertainty through the tight grip.
"Sorry," Harry said, shaking his head. He turned, and the guard's eyes widened as he took in the full sight of the strange costume. "There are too many people who need help."
He brushed the guard's hand away and strode toward the nearest group of waiting patients. A young mother sat on the curb, her toddler crying in her lap while she pressed a tissue to her own bleeding nose. Harry dropped to one knee beside them.
"Can I help?" he asked, and the woman jerked in surprise, nearly dropping her child.
Before she could answer, he reached out and touched the child's feverish cheek. The green light flared again, softer this time, and the toddler's crying cut off mid-wail. The boy blinked up at him, confused but no longer in pain.
"What did you do?" the mother gasped, pulling her child closer even as she reached out to touch Harry's arm. "Wait a minute ... are you really ...?"
Harry didn't answer, but smiled kindly nonetheless. The legend of a mysterious hero had been steadily spreading through the area, and it seemed that she was a fan. He was already moving to the next person, a teenage boy who was slumped against his friend's shoulder, barely conscious. One touch to his forehead, and the boy's eyes snapped open, clear and alert.
A murmur ran through the crowd, growing louder as more people turned to watch. Harry kept moving, from one sick person to the next, letting the green energy flow through his fingertips. With each touch, he felt a little more drained, but the sight of someone's fever breaking or their labored breathing easing kept him going.
"Everyone, back up! Give me space!" The shout came from a doctor who'd rushed out of the emergency room doors. He pushed through the gathering onlookers, his white coat flapping. "You there! Who are you? What are you doing to these patients?"
Harry straightened, wiping sweat from his upper lip. The mask was starting to feel stifling in the heat. "I'm trying to help these people," he simply stated. "They've been exposed to chemicals from the LuthorCorp plant. If you're looking for answers, you should start there."
The doctor's face twisted, caught between hope and professional skepticism. "You can't just … we need to document …"
A scream cut him off. Across the parking lot, an elderly woman collapsed, her husband shouting for help as she began to seize. Without hesitation, Harry pushed off from the ground, letting the green energy carry him in a short, controlled leap over the heads of the crowd. He landed softly beside her and dropped to his knees, his hand already reaching for her twitching arm.
The convulsions stopped the moment his fingers touched her skin. The green light washed over her, brighter than before, and Harry felt the slight pull on his energy. While it was draining to heal these people, Harry had more than enough energy to carry on. When he pulled back, she was breathing normally, and her eyes fluttered open in confusion.
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" he asked, supporting the back of her head with his free hand.
She blinked up at him, then gasped. "You're ... you're the one from the news. The green ghost guy."
Before he could answer, a new voice cut through the growing buzz of excitement. "Step away from her! Now!" A different security guard stood ten feet away, his service weapon drawn and pointed at the ground. His hand shook visibly.
Harry slowly raised both hands, showing they were empty. "I'm just trying to help," he said, keeping his voice calm. He could dodge a bullet if he had to, but the people around him couldn't.
"I said step AWAY!" The guard's voice cracked with tension, and he raised the gun slightly.
Time seemed to slow. Harry could see the man's finger tightening on the trigger, and he could track the minute tremble in his aim. In the split second he had to decide, Harry flicked one finger, and a thread of green energy lashed out, wrapping around the gun and dissolving it into dust before the guard could pull the trigger.
The man stared at his empty hand in shock, then looked up at Harry with naked fear. The crowd around them had fallen silent, everyone holding their breath.
"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Harry said, annoyed at having to stop his work to deal with a security guard with an itchy trigger finger. "And it's probably not a smart idea to draw a weapon around patients," he stated, glaring at the security guard who was already slinking back. He turned back to the elderly woman, helping her to sit up with her husband's assistance. Then he stood, facing the growing crowd of onlookers.
He studied the scene, and there were at least fifty sick people still waiting. One at a time would take too long, and there were probably others around town who hadn't made it to the hospital.
He closed his eyes and reached for the green power. Instead of letting it flow out through his hands, he pushed it down through his feet, into the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. The energy spread in a rippling wave, flowing outward in all directions, and he felt the moment it touched the first sick person. There was a jolting connection that made him gasp.
More and more connections snapped into place as the green light washed over the crowd. He heard gasps and shouts, but he kept his eyes shut, focusing on the web of energy linking him to every person within a hundred yards. With a final push, he sent a pulse of healing energy through that web.
The drain was much harsher than doing it one at a time, but Harry held strong. One after another, people began to glow green, and the chemicals were purged from their systems. The green wave spread, covering the entire hospital, and he was sure there were quite a few surprised people inside.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The connections snapped shut, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The drain wasn't as bad as he first thought.
Every person the green wave had touched was staring at him. Some were touching their own arms or faces in wonder, others were helping their neighbors to their feet. The security guard with the vanished gun was crouched beside a young boy, checking the child's pulse with shaking fingers.
"Harry."
He turned at the whisper of his name. Lana stood at the edge of the crowd, her eyes wide but steady. She gave him a tiny, encouraging nod.
He straightened his shoulders and turned to the nearest doctor, who was frantically checking the vitals of three patients at once. "They should all be stable now," Harry said. At least he hoped they were. "But you should still check everyone. Some might need fluids or ... I don't know. I'm not a doctor."
The man looked up, his professional mask slipping to reveal naked astonishment. "What did you do?" he asked the same question that was probably on everyone's mind.
Harry just shook his head, not keen to give a lengthy response. There were still people in need. "I need to check the rest of the town. There might be people who couldn't make it to the hospital." He didn't wait for a response, just pushed off from the ground and rocketed into the sky with a burst of green energy. Some yelped in shock, and others cried out in awe, pointing to Harry's retreating form.
From up high, he could see the whole town spread out before him. Somewhere out there were more sick people, more lives in desperate need of help. He took one deep breath, then launched himself forward, leaving a trail of green energy in his wake.
The Last Guardian
Lana was curled on their couch, remote in hand, as she watched the evening news. Harry watched her from the kitchen doorway for a moment before making his presence known. He thought she looked quite sexy sitting there on the couch. Harry couldn't help but smile. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she'd changed into an old Met U sweatshirt, with a stretched-out neck that hung off one of her shoulders. She looked very comfortable.
The local news was showing footage of the hospital parking lot, where a crowd had gathered. He stepped into the living room and teasingly cleared his throat.
She jumped, then relaxed when she saw him. "There you are," she said, muting the TV. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
He walked over and collapsed next to her on the couch with a groan. The springs creaked in protest. "Sorry. I got held up." The understatement made him want to laugh, but he was too tired. His arms felt like they'd been stuffed with lead weights, and there was a persistent ache behind his eyes that had nothing to do with the flickering television. The reception was always bad out here in the middle of nowhere.
Lana studied his face, her eyes narrowing. "You look like you've been through it. The news says that you've been going at it all afternoon," she said, nodding toward the TV where the news had cut to a press conference outside the hospital.
He looked at the TV. The hospital administrator was standing behind a podium, fielding questions from a dozen shouting reporters. The tape at the bottom of the screen read, MIRACLE IN SMALLVILLE? in bold red letters.
"I just helped out a little," he said, leaning forward to grab the remote from her hand. He turned the volume up.
"... can confirm that all seventy-three patients who presented with symptoms have been stabilized. We're continuing to monitor them, but initial tests show no trace of the unknown compound in their systems."
The reporter's voice cut through the general clamor. "Dr. Mercer, are the rumors true that this was the work of the same individual who's been spotted around town? The so-called 'Green Ghost'?"
The administrator's face tightened. "We're focused on patient care, not speculation about …"
Harry muted it again. "I can't believe they're calling me the Green Ghost," he snorted. "They could've picked something with more pazazz. 'The Emerald Knight' or 'Big, Green, and Sexy' or something."
Lana's hand found his knee and squeezed. "You're avoiding the question. Did you really heal everyone at the hospital?"
He looked down at her fingers. They looked small and pale against the fabric of his jeans. He brushed his fingers over the back of her hand, loving how soft her skin was.
"I suppose so," he finally said. "I wasn't really focusing on curing anything in particular. I just pushed out my power and let it do its work. After that, I went from house to house, checking to see if anyone needed help. I found quite a few people in really bad shape."
Her eyes went wide. "Harry, that's ..." She seemed to struggle for a word, then just shook her head. "Are you okay? You look really tired."
He waved it off. "Yeah, I'm tired, but it's nothing a long night's sleep won't cure." He leaned his head back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. "It was worth it, though. You should've seen this little girl's face when her dad stopped coughing. She thought I was some sort of superhero."
Lana's fingers tightened on his leg. "The whole town's talking about it. Chloe's been texting me non-stop, asking if I've seen the Green Ghost. She really wants to be the first to get an interview," she snorted, then paused. "Nobody's made the connection yet. To you, I mean."
He cracked one eye open to look at her. "You think they will?"
She shrugged, the motion making the too-big sweatshirt slide further off her shoulder. Harry leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder, making Lana smile lovingly. She ran her fingers through his messy hair. "Smallville's not that big, but most people here are pretty clueless. I think you'll be fine as long as you're careful." She reached for the remote and turned the volume back up.
The news had moved on to helicopter footage of the LuthorCorp plant, where a dozen emergency vehicles were parked in haphazard rows. "... containment has been confirmed, but officials are still urging residents within a two-mile radius to remain indoors with windows closed. The EPA has been called in to …"
Harry tuned it out, instead taking a moment to rest his eyes. Lana's hand moved from his knee to his arm, and her thumb rubbed small circles over his skin. "You should eat something," she said. "You haven't eaten since lunch, have you?"
Harry opened his green eyes and smiled cheekily at her. When he shook his head, she made an annoyed noise and stood up, pulling him with her. "Come on. You're taking a shower and then eating some food, even if I have to sit on you to make it happen."
He let her tug him to his feet, pretending to put up more resistance than he actually felt. "Is that supposed to be a threat? Because it sounds more like a reward," he teased, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her head.
She rolled her eyes, smiled, and swatted at his chest without any real force. "Go shower before you stink up the whole house."
He was halfway to the bathroom when she called after him. "Harry?" He turned, resting one hand on the doorframe. She was still by the couch, remote held loosely in her hand, the blue light of the muted TV flickering across her face. "I'm proud of you," she said simply.
The words warmed him more than any shower would. He gave her a tired smile. "Thanks, Lana. I'm proud of you, too … you know … for what you did for the people in the Talon. By the way, I made sure to take care of them, too," he told her. Lana blushed at his praise. Harry chuckled at her embarrassment.
"You know, Lana? I'm so tired that I can barely lift my arms. I might need someone to scrub my back," he cheekily hinted. Lana huffed, but she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her gorgeous face. She stood up and turned off the TV.
"Fine. I'll order pizza and join you in a minute. But remember … no hanky panky until after you've eaten," she teasingly warned.
"Scout's honor," Harry said, crossing two fingers behind his back.