Son of Krypton, Daughter of Earth

Meet Cute?

A man and woman in EMT uniforms came to her. The man's nametag read 'Fred Olsen.' "We'll help you, Mam," he said, checking her pulse. "Where does it hurt?" There was a rush of air. She looked around, but Red Boots was gone and had taken his blanket with him.

"Uhh, my wrist," Lexy said, "and some bruises. "Otherwise, I think I'm ok, just wet, through and through. 

Several minutes later, she sat on a park bench with a cup of hot tea and a fresh donut, waiting to go to the hospital. Her wrist was sprained, according to Red Boots, but it felt broken. Rescue workers hurried around the park, as people dislocated by the storm sought shelter and help.

She was almost done with the tea when a man in jeans and a green shirt came over to her. He was tall, handsome, dark wavy hair pushed back from his forehead, eyes bluer than hers. He nodded and sat next to her.

"Hello, miss, I'm Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Are you able to answer a few questions about last night and this morning?

She stared at him, mouth open. "Clark Kent?" He nodded. Lexy put her hand to her head. "I must have bumped my head. It sounded like you said Clark Kent from the Daily Planet."

"I did," the man said, in the same gentle, deep voice as Red Boots, watching her carefully.

"That's not funny. First Lex Luthor. Then some joker in a Superman costume. Now Clark Kent." She squeezed the paper cup of tea until it squashed, spilling warm tea on her pants. She patted the spot with a napkin, but realized she was too soaked for it to help and put the napkin in the crumpled cup. "Who are you, really? Why are you pretending to be a reporter?" She started to shake, exhausted and frightened, and to her dismay, began to cry.

"Miss? What's your name?"

"Lexy. Short for Alexandra. Lexy Logan." She glared at him, snuffling. She wiped her runny nose on a napkin. She must look a sight, bedraggled, sniffling, soaking wet, and her damp hair clinging to her neck.

"We've all struggled through this storm, but things will get better." He handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes. "My name is Clark Kent. I am a reporter for the Daily Planet, here in Metropolis. Superman lifted that carriage off you."

She drew back, fright making her angry. "This is New York City. Superman is a fictional character in comic books and movies. Born Kal-El on Krypton, came to Earth and raised by Martha and Jonathan Kent in Smallville, Kansas. You're not funny. I've got to get to the hospital and find a place where I can stay with my sister's cat until I can go home." She cried, wiping her eyes uselessly with the damp tissue.

Clark Kent, if that was his name, looked shocked. "Look there," he said. "That's the Daily Planet building, here in Metropolis."

She twisted around slowly and looked at a skyline that was almost New York. The Daily Planet building, with the globe on the roof, familiar from comics and movies, stood above the buildings on the West Side of the Park. Lexy began to cry hysterically. Fred Olsen came over.

"What happened, Clark?"

"She disoriented, thinks she's from someplace called New York City." Lexy wailed louder. She gasped for breath between sobs.

"I'll give her a shot to calm her. The ambulance is here, anyway. You'll have to interview her later about Superman rescuing her." Lexy howled at the mention of Superman. Fred rolled up her sleeve and a needle went in her arm. Lexy choked and sobbed again. "You'll rest now, lady. Let's get her in the ambulance, Clark."

Lexy blinked sleepily as Clark picked her up and carried her to the ambulance. "I want to go home," she whispered. She couldn't hold her head up and laid it on his shoulder.