"Did you get it?" an anxious voice asks.
Clark shifts uncomfortably, feeling the thick metal in his pocket. "Yeah," he mutters.
"Let me see!" she yips, and that brings a weird image of Lois like a dog, begging for scraps. Which this kind of is, considering he swiped it from Lex's desk with all the skill of a trained whore.
He hesitates, so she thrusts her hand into his pocket, her nails scraping against his fingers. She pulls out the thing and her eyes go wide. "Do you know what this means?" she says breathily.
Clark knows. It means loss.
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