The Last Guardian (Ch. 12)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

The Last Guardian

Chapter 12

Harry stared at the mountains of boxes in the front hall. Every single one had Lana’s neat, feminine handwriting on the side. He didn’t even know how she had so much stuff. He could have fit everything he owned into a single grocery bag. 

He had told her to just let him move the boxes with his powers, but Lana had insisted on doing it the old-fashioned way. She wanted to remember the experience of moving back into her old home. So far, the experience was mostly Lana swearing under her breath every time a box caught her shin. Harry offered to help, but she always refused until she’d stubbed her toe at least twice. She was quite stubborn.

A box labeled “Books” wobbled on the top of the stack, and Harry put a hand up to steady it. He considered just levitating everything into place, but Lana wasn’t having any of it. So Harry just stood there and amusedly watched with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. 

She finally came in with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her arms loaded with two boxes marked “Kitchen 1” and “Kitchen 2.” She wore old jeans and a faded T-shirt that was several sizes too big for her. She set the boxes down with a grunt and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

“Okay, Harry,” she said, “Are you ready to do your thing?”

He smiled cheekily at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to move these up the stairs one at a time? It builds character.”

Lana squinted at him. “If you want to sleep on the porch tonight, keep making jokes.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender and chuckled. “My deepest apologies, madam.” He reached out, and a wave of green energy swept through the foyer. Every box shimmered, lifted up, and arranged itself into two neat rows on the hardwood floor. Each box hovered a good six inches off the ground. They floated weightlessly, awaiting his command.

Lana rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth pulled up in a reluctant smile. “You’re so annoying.”

He smirked at the sexy girl. “So I’ve been told.” Harry then flicked his fingers, and the boxes filed up the staircase, one after another, stacking themselves against the wall of the upper landing.

Lana followed, calling instructions. “The ones with the green stickers go to the kitchen! The blue ones go to our … your … bedroom. No, not the guest room, Harry, I mean it!” Lana laughed and smacked his arm when Harry pretended to ignore her. 

She hustled up the stairs behind the parade of floating cardboard, calling out corrections every few seconds. Harry followed her, not in any hurry. He trailed his fingers along the polished banister, watching the boxes as they floated into their assigned rooms.

The house looked great, in his opinion. Sunlight streamed in through freshly-washed windows. There was the smell of new paint and sawdust from his repairs, but under it all was a warmth that made the place feel lived-in, even before the furniture arrived.

Lana planted her hands on her hips, surveying the scene. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

He looked at the perfectly stacked boxes. “You do realize this is, like, ninety percent your stuff, right?”

She didn’t even blink. “If you want me to move in, you have to take the massive pile of ‘girly’ things that come with me.”

“Will there be any room left for my junk?” he asked in amusement. 

She ignored that. “Next!” She spun on her heel and marched down the hall. Harry shook his head and watched her go before following along. 

They spent the next hour unpacking the kitchen. Lana directed the operation like a general, pointing at cabinets and drawers. He floated everything to her exact specifications. Every time he tried to cut a corner or suggest a better way, she shut him down with a glare. He couldn’t help but smile every time she did. 

The kitchen filled up with plates, mugs, and saucepans. Lana insisted on organizing the silverware by size, which Harry found charmingly neurotic. He let her win every argument, mostly because he liked the way she slightly stuck her tongue out when she was focused.

After the kitchen came the living room. Harry hovered the new couch through the door without scratching the paint. Lana directed him to slide it along the far wall, then decided she wanted it on the opposite wall. He tried not to roll his eyes, but when she caught him, she poked him in the ribs, which made him drop the couch and scuff the floor. Harry was then forced to fix the damage, of which he was one hundred percent responsible … at least according to Lana. 

She set up a small bookshelf by the window. Harry placed the TV on the stand, then stepped back to admire the view. The living room was big and airy, with a window that looked out over the dusty lane and the cornfields beyond. Lana fussed with a potted plant, then plopped down on the couch.

She patted the spot beside her. “C’mere,” she said. He sat next to her, close enough to feel her warmth but not so close he’d risk an elbow to the ribs when he inevitably annoyed her. 

She leaned back, letting her head drop onto the cushion. “It feels weird,” she said. “Like, I’m waiting for someone to come home and tell us we don’t belong here.”

He nodded. “It’ll take some getting used to. I imagine you’ll get used to it much faster than I will. You already have good memories of living here.”

She turned to look at him. “Do you think we’ll be happy here?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I think we’ll be as happy as we want to be.”

She smacked his arm. “Don’t get all sentimental on me.”

He laughed, then stretched his legs out. For a while, they sat in silence, listening to the old house creak and the wind whistle through the leaves outside. Lana closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. “I have to go back to the Talon and get the last of my stuff.”

He nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

She stood, smoothed her shirt, and looked at him with a smile. “You did really good today, Harry.”

“Why, thank you,” he said, returning her smile. 

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was quick, but it sent a pleasant jolt through his whole body. She grabbed her keys and headed out, her sneakers thumping down the stairs. The front door closed, and Harry was left alone.

He wandered the house for a while, checking each room. The upstairs bedrooms were empty except for the boxes. He opened one marked “Decorations” and found a tangled mass of string lights and other girly things. He smiled, closed the box, and set it aside for Lana to deal with.

He went into the master bedroom, which was still mostly empty. The few things he owned sat in the corner, looking lonely and out of place. He realized he’d never owned a house before. He sat on the new bed and wondered what he was supposed to do next. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

He checked the clock. Lana wouldn’t be back so soon. He padded down the stairs and opened the front door. Lois Lane stood on the porch. She wore an open jacket over a white tank top and tight jeans that accentuated her curves. Her hair was in a messy ponytail. She looked Harry up and down, then grinned.

“Wow,” she said. “They’ll let anyone own property these days.”

He stepped back and motioned her in. “Come on in, Miss Lane. Take a load off.”

She eyed the living room and then the kitchen. “Nice digs. You did all this by yourself in one day?”

“I had Lana help me out,” he told her. 

Lois plopped onto the couch, put her feet up on the coffee table, and leaned back. “Where is the future Mrs. Potter, anyway?”

He considered a witty comeback, but decided to just play it straight. “She went to grab some things from the Talon.”

Lois looked at him. “She trusts you alone with the new house? That’s reckless.”

“Apparently so. Now, did you just come here to annoy me or …?” he asked.

She took a long look around, then pointed at him. “I need your help.”

He sat in the armchair across from her. “With what?”

She dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a battered notebook. “I’m working on a story for the Torch. Someone’s been breaking into the school at night, and I want to catch them in the act.”

“How do you know someone’s breaking into the school?” Harry wondered. 

“I have a source at the police station, and he said that they’ve received several calls about someone slipping in through a side entrance at night,” Lois explained. Harry nodded. 

“So, why me?” he asked.

She looked him dead in the eye. “Because you’re the only person in this town who can handle all the weird stuff that goes on. If I ask Clark, he’ll just give me a twenty-minute lecture on how I’m being silly. Then he’ll tell me to call the authorities,” she snorted. “Besides, I figure if things get hairy, you’ll be able to take a punch.”

He laughed. “You just want me as backup.”

She shrugged. “You have a reputation, you know. First the Talon incident, then the way you manhandled those jocks last week.”

He scratched his chin. “I thought you said my heroism was overrated.”

“I did,” she said with a cute smile, “But I’m willing to lower my standards.”

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She leaned forward and smacked his knee. “That’s the spirit! It’s tonight. I’ll text you when I’m ready.”

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

She stood, then wandered into the kitchen. “Do you have anything to drink in this place, or is Lana making you drink from a doggy bowl?”

He went to the fridge and found a can of soda. He tossed it to her. She caught it with one hand and popped the tab. “You’re lucky I’m not making you go outside and drink from the hose.”

“Nice,” she said. “So, how’s life with Lana?”

He tried not to look embarrassed. “It’s been great. She’s a great girl.”

Lois gave him a long look. “She likes you. You know that, right?”

He met her gaze and smirked. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that feeling.”

She smiled knowingly. “Don’t screw it up.”

He raised his soda in salute. “I’ll do my best.”

She finished her drink in two gulps and dropped the can into the bin. “Alright, I’m out. Don’t forget tonight.”

She was at the door before he could respond. “See you then, Lois.”

She grinned over her shoulder. “Try not to wreck the house before Lana gets back.”

He laughed and watched her go. He went back into the living room and sat for a while, thinking. He wondered what Lana would say when she heard he was helping Lois chase ghosts. He thought about what would happen if someone tried to break into this house. He made a mental note to add some magical protections to the property. He leaned back, feet on the coffee table, and waited for Lana to come home.

The Last Guardian

Lois crouched in the shadows just outside the main entrance to Smallville High, her breath misting in the autumn chill. The security lights bathed the lawn and sidewalk in a harsh yellow light, and she could hear trucks rolling down the highway in the distance. She checked the time on her phone. It was 11:07 p.m. Typical, she thought. She just had a feeling that Harry would be late. The guy was too laid back, in her opinion. 

She adjusted the black beanie over her ponytail and glanced across the parking lot. Her car sat two blocks away, out of view from the street. She’d left the keys in the visor, just in case a quick getaway became necessary. It probably wouldn’t, but Lois had learned to plan for the worst, especially when Harry was her partner in crime.

“Where is that idiot?” she muttered, not bothering to hide her irritation.

A sudden, blinding white light stabbed her from behind. She whirled around, her heart pounding. She half-expected to see the school’s rent-a-cop or, worse, Principal Reynolds.

Instead, she saw Harry, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, grinning like an absolute dork and holding his flashlight up to his own face for dramatic effect. He wore a black hoodie and dark jeans.

“HERE I AM!” he boomed, in a voice so loud Lois actually slapped a hand over his mouth before he finished the next syllable.

“What the … ?!” she hissed, dragging him behind the low hedge with a death grip. “Are you trying to get us arrested?”

Harry looked undisturbed. “Relax, Lois. The only people awake right now are us and maybe that bum who sleeps on the football bleachers. Besides, it’s not like we’re trying to break into Fort Knox.”

Lois rolled her eyes, checked the windows, then smacked his arm for good measure. “If we get caught, you’re taking the fall, Potter.”

“I would expect nothing less,” he said in a low voice, but with a crooked grin that made Lois want to punch him even more.

She waited until the security lights on the side of the building cycled off, then bolted across with Harry in tow. They reached the side entrance by the gym, where the janitor, Old Man Jenkins, sometimes stood out there to smoke. Lois pressed her ear to the metal, listened for any kind of movement, then slipped a thin piece of plastic from her pocket and jimmied the lock. Harry watched, impressed with her skill.

Inside was quite dark, and the only source of light came from the soft glow of the emergency lighting. The gymnasium echoed with distant clanks and the soft mechanical humming of the HVAC system. Lois led the way, hugging the wall.

“Some break-in artist you are,” Harry whispered, right behind her. “Next time, wear something darker than a white tank top.”

“Shut up,” Lois snapped, grateful for the dark jacket she’d thrown over it but still annoyed he’d noticed.

They snuck around the corner and toward the main hallway. The school was deathly quiet, and every small sound seemed impossibly loud. Lois ducked behind a row of lockers. “This way,” she mouthed, pointing toward the admin offices.

They froze as the heavy squeak of wheels echoed from around the corner. Lois grabbed Harry’s sleeve and pulled him into the first open door she found. She pushed him against the wall of the empty classroom and pressed herself flat against him. His breath tickled her cheek. She ignored it.

“Stay quiet,” she mouthed, and Harry nodded.

The janitor rolled by, pushing a battered cart and humming an off-key tune. As soon as he was gone, Lois breathed a sigh of relief. Harry, however, smirked at Lois. “You know … If you wanted to get me alone in the dark, all you had to do was ask,” he quietly teased. Lois rolled her eyes and shoved him away.

“Get a grip, Casanova. You’re not as hot as you think you are,” she said with a smirk, which made Harry chuckle.

They finally reached the office door, which was locked. Lois produced her card again and began to work on it. She had the lock open in five seconds. They slipped inside, closing the door softly behind them. The office was neat, almost suspiciously so. Lois scanned the room for anything out of place, any sign of forced entry, or ransacked cabinets. There was nothing.

“You think someone’s breaking into the school’s office?” Harry asked, peering over her shoulder at the rows of student files.

“I figured it was a student breaking in to change some grades, but nothing looks out of order,” she quietly told him. She tiptoed to the principal’s office and let herself in, Harry ducking in behind her.

A noise coming in through the closed window made her freeze. She stood perfectly still and listened, her heart pounding.

Harry caught her look. “It’s probably just raccoons digging through the trash,” he whispered.

Lois shook her head. “No. Listen.”

There was another sound. It was a metallic clank, then the barely audible creak of the fire escape door leading to the cafeteria.

“Gotcha,” Lois whispered, her whole body tensing with adrenaline.

They retraced their steps, this time moving faster and more recklessly. They flew down the main stairwell, past the trophy case, then past the vending machines and into the cafeteria wing. They pressed up against the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. It was almost completely dark inside, except for the glow of the exit light. Lois peeked through the porthole and saw a figure hunched over, rifling through a lower cabinet. She signaled to Harry, who nodded, and together they crept forward. They silently pushed through the swinging door and moved closer.

Three steps away from the culprit, Lois tripped over a mop bucket. The clatter was deafening. The figure whirled, eyes wide in the glow of the flashlight now pointed directly at her face.

“Hands up, scumbag!” Lois barked, the adrenaline making her voice crack. The figure squealed, dropped the giant tin of tomato paste she had been holding, and recoiled, shielding her face with one arm.

“That’s the lunch lady, Lois,” Harry said, trying really hard not to laugh.

The woman, who was maybe in her late fifties or early sixties, had her hair curled so tight it looked like a helmet. She was frozen in a crouch behind a three-tiered rack of cafeteria trays. She stared at Lois and Harry as if they were holding her at gunpoint.

"Don’t move!" Lois barked, her hands up in a weird martial arts pose. She stepped forward, her sneakers squeaking on the greasy tile. "What’s in the bag?"

The lunch lady blinked twice, then hugged the brown paper bag tight to her chest. "Please," she said, "I didn’t take anything! I just … I just needed …"

"Confess, criminal!" Lois clamored. “Are you selling smack to the kiddies?” she blurted out and lunged, grabbing the bag from the old lady with both hands. They had a short, awkward tug-of-war before Harry calmly pried it from both of them. He held it up and looked inside.

"Sandwiches," Harry said. He held up a plastic-wrapped ham and cheese sandwich. "And … some apples and oranges.” Harry looked at Lois, knowing this was the dumbest thing they had ever done. “Do you think she’s planning to sell this on the black market?" he sarcastically asked. 

The lady’s eyes welled up. "I know it’s not right," she whispered, "But we can’t make it on my paycheck. My husband, he’s … he’s not well." The words came out fast and panicky. "He hasn’t been able to work since the accident, and the bills … just the medicine alone, it’s …" She covered her mouth, suddenly mortified.

Lois, momentarily thrown off by the emotional whiplash, recovered with a vengeance. "So you admit to breaking and entering. What else have you nabbed?"

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Lois. She’s just stealing lunch meat."

"Yeah, today," Lois said, folding her arms. "But who knows what she’ll take tomorrow. People always start small."

The lunch lady sniffled and wiped her nose with the edge of her sleeve. "It’s only leftovers. I take what they’d throw away. If anyone found out, they’d fire me, and then we’d have nothing. Please, please, don’t tell the principal. I’ll never do it again, I swear on my soul."

Harry exhaled loudly. He looked at Lois, at the woman, and then at the sad sandwich bag in his hand. "How long have you been doing this?"

The lunch lady took a shuddery breath. "Just since last spring. When he got hurt." She shook her head. "There’s no money. I’m not hurting anyone. I never take the good stuff."

Lois tried to harden her face, but the edges drooped. She looked away, pretending to inspect the cabinets. Harry put the bag on the counter and asked softly enough that she had to look up. "Are you the one who’s been breaking in at night?"

She nodded shakily. "I have to. We need the food."

Harry looked at Lois, then back at the woman. "Promise us you’ll stop," he said. "If you get caught again, you’ll lose everything. There’s always another way."

The lunch lady nodded. "I’m sorry. I will. I won’t come back after hours again."

She looked so defeated and small that Harry really felt bad for her. He closed his eyes for a second and concentrated. Ten bundles of one-hundred-dollar bills that he had taken from the cartel suddenly appeared inside the brown paper bag. He’d make sure to keep an eye on her so neither she nor her husband went hungry. "Go on home," he said, opening the kitchen’s rear exit. "And don’t forget your bag."

The lady grabbed the bag, clutched it to her chest, and hurried out the fire door, pausing at the threshold to give them both a wobbly, grateful look.

Lois waited until the door swung shut. "Well, that was … deeply unsatisfying," she said. "I was hoping for at least a meth lab."

Harry smiled at her. "You’ve seen too many bad movies."

They exited through the loading dock, keeping to the shadows. Outside, the night air was colder and quiet. They walked for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. "You’re not going to write the story, are you?" Harry said, after a block or two.

Lois scowled. "No, and besides, what would I say? Local Lunch Lady Steals Soggy Tater Tots to Save Dying Husband?"

He laughed. "It wouldn’t be the worst headline the Torch has ever run."

Lois stomped a puddle, making water splash across Harry’s shoes. "I don’t want to get her in trouble," she muttered. "She’s not a villain."

They walked in silence for another minute, and the only sound was their shoes scuffing on the pavement. Suddenly, Harry stopped. "Hey," he said, and turned to face her. She stopped too, looking at him as if waiting for a punchline. Instead, he reached out and hugged her.

Lois froze for a second before hugging him back. When he pulled away, her cheeks were pink in the streetlight. "What was that for?" she asked. 

"Being a decent person," Harry said, smiling. "There aren’t many of those around these days."

Lois punched him on the shoulder. "You really are an idiot," she said, but she actually sounded quite pleased. They kept walking together down the empty street. He noticed that Lois was walking a little closer to him than before. After a while, Lois started humming, just loud enough for Harry to hear, and he found himself smiling.

The Last Guardian

The country house made strange new noises at night, which were quite different from Lana’s apartment or even the motel. Thankfully, Harry got used to them quickly. He lay in bed, flat on his back, listening to the faint rustling of the trees in the wind. He’d left a lamp on, and his phone sat on the nightstand, plugged into its charger. The sheets were new and clean, and the pillows were softer than any he’d ever owned. 

There was a creak from the hallway, then a quiet knock at the door. He didn’t bother with a shirt. “Come in,” he said, and propped himself up on his elbows.

Lana slipped through the door. She was wearing one of his t-shirts. It barely reached the tops of her thighs. Her hair was loose and messy, and her face was pink with embarrassment. She hesitated by the door, fidgeting with the hem.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I couldn’t sleep." She ran her foot along the thick rug, and her legs were bare and smooth. He thought that she looked very sexy.

Harry sat up straighter and patted the mattress beside him. "Do you want to sleep here?"

Lana nodded and closed the door behind her. She padded over and crawled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She huddled under the blankets, close enough that their shoulders touched.

"I thought you might like the company," she said, her voice muffled in the sheets. “You know … with you being in a new house and everything.

“Thanks, Lana. That’s very considerate of you,” Harry amusedly said. However, he knew she had grown used to sleeping with him and didn’t want it to end. Harry had no problems with that. 

Harry smiled and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. He could feel Lana’s body heat through the covers and the brush of her soft hair against his arm. She burrowed closer, pressing her cold feet to his leg.

"Your toes are like ice," he said.

"And you’re like a furnace," she replied, wriggling until she found a comfortable spot curled around his side.

Harry could feel her slow, steady heartbeat against his side. He reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Lana inched up and kissed him softly on the cheek, then dropped her head onto his chest. She let out a slow, happy breath and fell still, her arms locked around his middle like she never intended to let go.

Harry rested his chin on her hair, kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes. He felt her relax, and she made a soft, contented sound and squeezed him even tighter. He smiled, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to end up with a girl like Lana in his bed.