Heat rained down on Silvia like the breath of hell. The scorched pavement shimmered in the intense white rays of the sun. Her hair was pushed back in a high ponytail with the hope to cool herself down but it only made her neck drop with warm sweat. The arid heat burned at her lungs and every step felt like one hundred.
Metropolis was usually a hot place, much to Silvia's dismay, but the last few days had been surprisingly cold. It only made the sudden heat wave more intolerable. It was days like this that she wished to live in Gotham, a place always drenched in cold rain.
At the very least, she would have liked to stay indoors with a wet towel on her forehead but today was Monday... and she somehow felt obligated to meet with Clark. She was the reason that he had gotten shot at after all.
Silvia slipped into the oncoming crowd, familiar anonymity putting her at ease. She much preferred the shadows and the crowds with a thousand faces that looked just like hers. Walking alone was always a much bigger risk.
Finally, Silvia spotted the tiny café huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. At this time of day it's lights shone bright orange and the building hunched in on itself, fighting against the heat. Hundreds of people rushed by it on the crowded street, very few taking notice of it.
Silvia broke away from the group and took a few more lingering steps towards the cafe. From across the street, she could see Clark in the window. His head was down and his eyes were scanning over a newspaper, his free hand stirred a cup of coffee in front of him. From here, without his constant talking and stuttering, she saw how sharp his profile was. With his mouth shut he was actually fairly attractive.
Silvia shook the ridiculous thought out of her head. Him being slightly decent looking didn't take away from the fact that he was a complete scatterbrain. The blonde sighed and glanced at either side of the road for any traffic. However, as soon as it looked safe enough to cross she heard a loud whimper from not far behind her.
Silvia instinctively turned, narrowing her eyes at the dark alleyway. From inside she could hear muffled cries and groans of pain. Anyone close enough to hear it just kept walking...and sadly, this came as no surprise to her.
Glancing once more at the small cafe, making sure that she had not yet been noticed by Clark, Silvia dashed in the opposite direction. The alleyway was darkness and the sour relics of a hundred take-away meals. As she walked between the walls that were too high for her to bother seeking the bright blue sky, she kicked the garbage scattered on the path with each stride.
It was curious that even on the sunniest of days an alley remained in blackness. This time she was grateful for it though, for with this lack of light came a welcome chill. It dried the sweat that glistened on her face and rejuvenated her tired muscles just before she reached the source of the sound.
On the ground, pressed up against the cracked bricks of an old nightclub, was a man with duct tape over his mouth and his hands tied with sturdy rope. Anger swelled in Silvia's stomach, eyes flicking to the man standing over him and memorizing his every detail. The stranger was slim and dark, with a slight mustache which curled upward at the ends. He had coal-black eyes, restless and piercing. His hands were small and slim, almost feminine. Silvia knew from a single look that he wasn't used to doing the dirty work and would be no challenge for her.
His boot dug into the victim's leg with a loud crack. A sound of agony tore from his throat, muffled by the tape.
"Hey, asshole!" Silvia growled.
The man's head snapped in her direction, a smirk twitching on his lips. "Get lost, lady. If you know what's good for you." The man didn't even look at her for long enough to see if she obeyed him or not. He just turned back towards his victim as if he automatically expected her to disappear.
Silvia sauntered forward, eyes darkening. "Let him go, you fucking parasite." She hissed, each step echoing through the narrow path. "Let him go and fuck off right now."
When he turned to face her once more his eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. All amusement had evaporated from them and left each dark void with nothing but a burning anger. "Seriously lady... Beat it."
"You heard me, you piece of shit."
The man moved. Silvia jerked back. The blow meant for her jaw whizzed passed her in a blur of knuckles. From the corner of her eye, she saw her opponent's other arm begin an upward trajectory. She ducked this time, and felt her hair ruffle with the force of it. The moment she stood back up straight she whacked her right fist right into the man's nose; it shifted on his face with a crunching noise.
He fell to the dirt, wailing and swearing. "Crazy bitch!" He spat, hands clutching over his bleeding nose.
Silvia smirked, storming over to him and grabbing the scruff of his shirt. "You could've walked away, man. Glad you didn't though. Saves me the trouble of having to find you again."
Her left hand crossed over to her right thigh, grazing over the gun hidden beneath the fabric there. Just when she had lifted up her skirt high enough to grab it she heard someone behind her yell "M-Miss Stone!"
Silvia froze, quickly flattening her skirt back down and letting go of the man's shirt. "I'll come back for you." She hissed at him, glaring as he scampered away.
She took a deep breath, composing herself before swiveling back around. Clark stood in the entrance to the alleyway, sun shining behind him but face obscured by the darkness leaking from the passage. He seemed to stand taller than usual...but Silvia was too occupied by the nuisance of his arrival to be concerned with sudden posture improvements.
"Sorry for the delay, Clark." Silvia tried to sound pleasant even through her annoyance. She crouched down to the tied up man and started setting him loose. She pulled the duct tape from his mouth as gently as possible but it still made a resounding 'rip'. "Do you need any medical attention?"
"N-No." The man managed to croak out. "You saved me... Thank you."
"No problem." Silvia gave a weak smile then pushed herself back up. She walked right passed Clark, hearing him stumble to follow her across the road and into the cafe.
The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of hot wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was cool and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new entrants and the heat was forgotten, forced away by the air conditioning.
Clark followed silently as Silvia made her way to the table he had previously been sitting in, right beside the window. She sat on the opposite side of the half empty coffee mug and motioned for him to join her. He did, clumsily and hastily, hoping to now grab enough time to speak.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He finally blurted out.
"That wasn't a fight, that was a punch." Silvia slumped in the chair. It was a lot comfier than her own couch...which wasn't all that difficult.
"Then where did you learn to 'punch'?"
"It's not exactly rocket science, Kent. You just aim your fist and swing, I'm sure even a stick in the mud like you could do it." Silvia huffed and crossed her arms. "Didn't you have more important questions to ask me?"
"R-Right!" Clark chirped, glancing down at his notebook and picking up the pen from its spot on the table. "I'd like to get at least one more serious answer out of you, if that's humanly possible. Okay so...what do you think Southside needs for it to be a better place to live?"
Silvia clenched her teeth to prevent laughter from breaking out but it was useless, her giggles bursted forth anyway and grabbed the attention of those around her. "Are you serious? Southside's a lost cause. The kindest thing to do would be to burn the whole damn thing to the ground."
Clark's forehead wrinkled and his expression dropped. His hand had started gliding the pen across the paper but his lips were tightened into a thin line while he wrote. "You're very quick to give up on your home, Miss Stone."
"My 'home' gave up on me a long time ago. It's time I returned the favour."
"What do you mean by that?" Clark seemed curious now, like he was drilling to the centre of the earth and had finally broken the surface.
Silvia scowled. "I mean it's a fucking junkyard, that's all."
"And how long have you lived there exactly?" Clark's voice quickly followed hers as if he had completely dismissed her answer.
"I..." Silvia paused, taken back by the sudden push of personal questions. "That's none of your business!"
She had turned so red that Clark half expected her to have steam coming out of her ears. Her eyes had sharpened and her fingernails had started digging into the table's surface.
"I'm, uh...sorry. It's just something I have to ask-"
"I didn't come here to be interrogated!"
"Do you..." Clark's eyebrow jerked upwards. "I don't think you're using that word in the correct situation."
Silvia stopped, eyes flicking to the side as if it would help her think harder. "W-Well, whatever! You know what I mean!" She stood up, slamming her palm against the table. "Fuck you and your questions. You never said they'd be personal."
With a particularly mean glare in the direction of any onlookers, Silvia marched out of the building. A bell chimed as she opened the door and again as it closed, in the distance she heard it jingle twice more. Silvia groaned, weaving her way through the people that headed towards her.
"Miss Stone!" She heard Clark's deep voice call over the chatter. "Please wait up!"
"Get lost, Kent!" Silvia shouted back at him, pace only speeding up.
She thought that she had lost him, but before she even had time to comprehend it, Clark had not only caught up but rushed in front of her. He had that same awkward smile on his face that made Silvia feel guilty about her outburst. Still...she would have done it again. Her personal life was not a story she was wiling to tell someone she met little more than a week ago, and Clark didn't appear to understand her annoyance or disapproval unless she was swearing at him.
Clark held his large hands out, symbolizing for her to stop. "I'm sorry, I d-didn't know that a question like that would bother you so much."
"Show's how much you know..." Silvia grumbled, trying to force her previous anger back up.
"I-If it helps, you can ask me a question for every one that I ask you."
Silvia shook her head with a scoff. "The problem with that is that I couldn't care less about where you live or grew up, Kent. And I certainly don't have a plethora of questions I need answering from you."
"O-Oh yeah, I guess not..." Clark stuttered, shifting the briefcase clasped in his hands. "Well, I'll just avoid any question you deem too personal, deal?"
The blonde sighed, frustration starting to disappear. "Look, I really do think you're wasting your time...and mine. My involvement in this article really can't be all that essential."
"Trust me, Miss. It's crucial." He answered so positively that Silvia was almost inclined to believe him...before she remembered that no one just randomly picked out a stranger for an interview and tracked them down for days to make sure they agreed to it.
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