Lana ran into Oliver again in a small bar in Gotham. She had just been speaking to a reporter named Vicki Vale and was ready to leave when he walked in. When he caught her eye, she sat back down and nodded him over.
"So," she said, when he reached her, "what brings you to Gotham City?"
He put his hand down on the counter, and looked sidelong at her. "I came to see a man about a bat."
"You too, huh?" she said.
"Oh, you too?"
She smiled.
"Well, this is nice," he said, "two old friends, running into each other like this. Yeah," he addressed the bartender now, "can I get a Scotch and another one of whatever she's having."
"Thanks," she said, watching him carefully.
"Yeah, well," he said, "what are old friends for?"
They sat in reflective silence with their drinks for a while, and then Oliver said, "Lana, can I ask you something personal?"
She pressed her lips together. "OK."
"Do you ever regret it?" he said, "Taking the Prometheus suit and the road it's taken you down?"
Lana ran her fingers around the edge of her glass contemplatively. "If I hadn't taken it," she said slowly, "I could have been with Clark, but —" she paused, and breathed in, steadying herself, "I don't know that things would have worked out between us. I have a strange sense of perspective about all of this, finally; I feel that everything which has happened to me was somehow inevitable."
Oliver half-smiled, and took a sip of his drink. "He's with Lois now," he said, bluntly.
"I heard," Lana responded. "I heard, and —" she smiled, but her eyes were sad, "I'm jealous," she blurted out, "I am. I'm bitter that things worked out this way. I'm glad that he's happy but I still think, sometimes, that it just isn't fair." She sighed. "I think I always knew, in my heart, that things would pan out like this — not necessarily that he would end up with Lois, but that things would fall apart between us for some reason or other. Destiny crashed over us like a great wave, and neither of us could swim against it for long." She was tracing patterns on the surface of the bar now. "I think that's what I'm fighting for," she said, after a moment, "— a world where a nice girl like Lana Lang can meet a nice boy like Clark Kent, and they can settle down together and live an idyllic life together — a world where neither Lana Lang or Clark Kent has to fight."
Oliver nodded. "But you're lonely."
"Yes," she confessed, "I am lonely. I am completely alone in the world now but — you know, I never felt more alone than when I was with Lex, when I knew that everyone in the world was lying to me, even Clark — especially Clark."
"Yeah," he said. "Well, that's nice. It's nice that you feel you have something to fight for."
"Not you?"
"Yeah, I don't know. When I first started this whole gig I used to kid myself it was for wholly selfless reasons. Truth is? I used to like feeling like a hero. Now, I don't know."
"I think you're being a little hard on yourself."
He said nothing.
Lana shifted in her seat so that she was facing him, and put her hand on his arm. "Oliver, even if you just started it to feel good about yourself — the amount of effort you put in: nobody does that for something they don't care all that much about. I don't know everything that's happened but I think you do real good in the world. You know," she paused, and took a deep breath, "you know, not everybody can be Clark. I used to think I could — that's why I started doing all of this, that's why I took the suit — but now I understand that I can't be anybody but myself. I can't do this Clark's way, I have to do it my way. I can't beat myself up because sometimes I make mistakes and do things he wouldn't do — it doesn't mean that I should just give up altogether."
Oliver said nothing for a few minutes, and looked down into his drink. Then he said, "You know, Lana, you talk a lot of sense these days."
"I've had a lot of time to think," she said. "Like I said: perspective."
"But you're lonely," he said, for the second time that evening.
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the things which might have been
Date: 2010-07-06 01:08 am (UTC)"So," she said, when he reached her, "what brings you to Gotham City?"
He put his hand down on the counter, and looked sidelong at her. "I came to see a man about a bat."
"You too, huh?" she said.
"Oh, you too?"
She smiled.
"Well, this is nice," he said, "two old friends, running into each other like this. Yeah," he addressed the bartender now, "can I get a Scotch and another one of whatever she's having."
"Thanks," she said, watching him carefully.
"Yeah, well," he said, "what are old friends for?"
They sat in reflective silence with their drinks for a while, and then Oliver said, "Lana, can I ask you something personal?"
She pressed her lips together. "OK."
"Do you ever regret it?" he said, "Taking the Prometheus suit and the road it's taken you down?"
Lana ran her fingers around the edge of her glass contemplatively. "If I hadn't taken it," she said slowly, "I could have been with Clark, but —" she paused, and breathed in, steadying herself, "I don't know that things would have worked out between us. I have a strange sense of perspective about all of this, finally; I feel that everything which has happened to me was somehow inevitable."
Oliver half-smiled, and took a sip of his drink. "He's with Lois now," he said, bluntly.
"I heard," Lana responded. "I heard, and —" she smiled, but her eyes were sad, "I'm jealous," she blurted out, "I am. I'm bitter that things worked out this way. I'm glad that he's happy but I still think, sometimes, that it just isn't fair." She sighed. "I think I always knew, in my heart, that things would pan out like this — not necessarily that he would end up with Lois, but that things would fall apart between us for some reason or other. Destiny crashed over us like a great wave, and neither of us could swim against it for long." She was tracing patterns on the surface of the bar now. "I think that's what I'm fighting for," she said, after a moment, "— a world where a nice girl like Lana Lang can meet a nice boy like Clark Kent, and they can settle down together and live an idyllic life together — a world where neither Lana Lang or Clark Kent has to fight."
Oliver nodded. "But you're lonely."
"Yes," she confessed, "I am lonely. I am completely alone in the world now but — you know, I never felt more alone than when I was with Lex, when I knew that everyone in the world was lying to me, even Clark — especially Clark."
"Yeah," he said. "Well, that's nice. It's nice that you feel you have something to fight for."
"Not you?"
"Yeah, I don't know. When I first started this whole gig I used to kid myself it was for wholly selfless reasons. Truth is? I used to like feeling like a hero. Now, I don't know."
"I think you're being a little hard on yourself."
He said nothing.
Lana shifted in her seat so that she was facing him, and put her hand on his arm. "Oliver, even if you just started it to feel good about yourself — the amount of effort you put in: nobody does that for something they don't care all that much about. I don't know everything that's happened but I think you do real good in the world. You know," she paused, and took a deep breath, "you know, not everybody can be Clark. I used to think I could — that's why I started doing all of this, that's why I took the suit — but now I understand that I can't be anybody but myself. I can't do this Clark's way, I have to do it my way. I can't beat myself up because sometimes I make mistakes and do things he wouldn't do — it doesn't mean that I should just give up altogether."
Oliver said nothing for a few minutes, and looked down into his drink. Then he said, "You know, Lana, you talk a lot of sense these days."
"I've had a lot of time to think," she said. "Like I said: perspective."
"But you're lonely," he said, for the second time that evening.
"Yes," she said. "I'm lonely."
He nodded, slowly. "Yeah, me too."