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Author of 51 Stories |
I just look at them all and marvel.
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The Learjet is comfortable and well-appointed. Dawn refuses to feel out of place in her T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. After all, Lex is the only one here with her, and they've Scoobed together twice now.
Coming into Metropolis International is nothing like coming in to LAX. There's no ocean, for one thing, and the buildings of Metropolis are tall and black compared to everything in Southern California. Flying in the jet isn't like flying in Clark's arms, either.
"Hope he made it home before curfew," she says.
"He did," Lex answers, and points.
A blue-and-red figure outside the window waves.