Unsupervised

Road Trip!

The scene that greeted Fernando, the doorman, was one that raised brows. Lena walked side-by-side with Daniel, not an unheard of occurence, but in Daniel's arms was an unconscious Lois. Unfortunately, that wasn't an unheard of occurrence either.

Fernando held the door open and smoothed his face back to one of neutrality. "She seems to make a habit of entering buildings this way, doesn't she?"

"She certainly does make a statement," Lena said by way of reply as she paused at the door. "Fernando, if any police officers or agents of the FBI were to ask—"

"You've been home all day, Miss Luthor, and you haven't had any visitors," Fernando finished for her.

She squeezed his forearm, offering him a genuine smile as she passed. "You're too good to me."

"Not possible, ma'am," he said with a tip of his hat.

The elevator ride to the penthouse was quick, Daniel standing rigidly with Lois in his arms while Lena frowned. When they reached their floor, Lena hurried forward to open the apartment door and usher in her driver and his... passenger.

"Just put her on the couch," Lena said as she peeled off her coat and went to a closet to retrieve a full medical kit.

When she came back, Lois was still unconscious, and Daniel had placed a bowl of hot water on the coffee table next to a leather journal. He excused himself briefly to return with two washcloths and some towels.

Lena used the medical sheers from the kit to cut off the field bandage she had applied in the car and further open Lois' jeans to expose the wound. She frowned at the nasty gash in Lois' leg, the bleeding having slowed from the pressure and now at a trickle but clearly in need of stitches. She cut the pants further effectively removing the bottom part of the pants leg from the top and rolling it down to give herself full access to the wound.

As Daniel handed her a washcloth, Lena thanked him. "Let's see if we can get her washed up and stitched up before she comes too. The closest thing I have to anesthesia is a 130 proof bourbon."

"If she does come to, a few shots of that will knock her out again."

"It's the George T. Stagg at the bar. Would you get that and three shot glasses? I think we'll all need a drink when this is over." Lena was drying the wound she had just washed when Daniel laid down the bottle and two shot glasses. "I said three glasses."

"I'm driving, ma'am."

"Nonsense, we're getting you a car. You're taking the rest of the night off."

"Miss Luthor, I think—"

"Daniel, that wasn't a request, it was an order." She looked intently up at him from where she knelt on the floor. "Get another glass."

He just nodded and headed back to the bar. When he returned, Lena had the threaded suture needle in the forceps and was prepared to do her first stitch.

"Will you place a hand on either side of the wound in case she wakes up during this? I don't want her moving." Daniel excused him briefly to wash his hands before putting on surgical gloves and taking a knee next to his employer. As Daniel braced Lois' thigh, Lena grabbed a piece of gauze from where she'd placed it on the table. Her gaze drifted over the unfamiliar journal before she began to work on Lois' leg. "Where'd you get that book?"

Daniel glanced back to the table for just a moment, his hands remaining steady. "It fell out of her coat pocket, ma'am."

Tying off the first stitch, Lena furrowed her brow. "It must be some kind of reporting notebook. I don't think I saw that one before." Lena placed and tied off a second stitch and a third before Lois murmured. "She's coming to. Don't let her move that leg. Until it's stitched up, that will start it bleeding again."