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[b]The Daily Planet, Metropolis[/b]

The door to the Daily Planet meeting room clicked shut behind Clark Kent and John Jones. Once Clark had done a quick scan of the room, he instructed Detective Jones to a seat at the long table at the centre of the room and took a seat opposite him. Jones removed his hat and set it down on the table. The detective’s dark brown eyes flashed red for half a second. Beneath Detective John Jones, Metropolis Police Department’s finest, was the Martian superhero known the world over as Martian Manhunter – a being that Clark had worked with several times over the past three or four years. He had proven to be as trustworthy and reliable an ally in the fight against evil as Clark could have. He was the ice to Hawkeye’s fire – where Barton was all muscle memory, J’onn J’onzz was a cool, calculative mind.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“I apologise for the ruse, Clark. I did not want to arouse any unnecessary suspicion by coming up to the newsroom. I understand that your identity is something you take very seriously.”[/color][/b]

Clark smiled.

[b][color=steelblue]“It’s okay, J’onn.”[/color][/b]

Clark saw much of himself in J’onn. Or at least he saw much of a [i]possible[/i] self in the Martian. Had Clark’s craft not been discovered by Martha and Jonathan Kent, had he spent his life locked up in a lab somewhere, there was every chance he would have had trouble adjusting to life on Earth. Watching J’onn attempt to integrate into human life had been enlightening. A lesser man, with a head less cool and a temperament less even, might have struggled but J’onn seemed to have taken to Earth far faster than Clark had ever expected. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised that J’onzz had chosen to take up a day job in law enforcement. It suited him.

[b][color=steelblue]“You never mentioned you worked for Metropolis PD.”[/color][/b]

J’onzz nodded calmly.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“Even the Martian Manhunter must have a day job.”[/color][/b]

A smirk crossed Clark’s lips.

[b][color=steelblue]“One befitting the name, it would seem.”[/color][/b]

J’onzz met Clark’s smirk with one of his own. There was an unnatural quality to it but it was far more convincing than J’onn’s early attempts at smiling. He had explained to Clark once that communication on Mars was almost [i]always[/i] telepathic and that he had found human facial expressions especially troubling to mimic. It wasn’t contorting his face that troubled him but knowing the right context in which to deploy the facial expressions. He would often smile at inappropriate times. A particularly unhelpful trait when one spends their days consoling the parents of missing children.

[b][color=steelblue]“Tell me about this case of yours, J’onn.”[/color][/b]

J’onn reached into his trench coat for what Clark expected to be a case file. Instead he pulled out a small silver packet of Oreos and bit one in half with a single bite. He crunched his way through it greedily as he recalled the facts of the case.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“I was passing through the Arctic on some other business when I felt something, a presence if you will, calling out from the blackness. There was pain, Clark, a pain unlike any I had ever felt before. It came from the stars but with each passing second the voice, the presence, it grew louder and stronger still. It spoke one word: Terri.”[/color][/b]

J’onn reached for the second of four Oreos and scoffed it down almost in a single mouthful. Clark stifled a smile as the Martian’s stoicism slipped for a second and his face seemed awash with pleasure. Once he was done crunching on the Oreo, J’onn’s probing red eyes stared deep into Clark’s.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“I believe the voice belonged to one Hank Henshaw, Clark. Do you remember Hank Henshaw?”[/color][/b]

The name sounded vaguely familiar but Clark couldn’t remember where from.

[b][color=steelblue]“I can’t say that I do.”[/color][/b]

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[b][color=mediumseagreen]“He was aboard an off-world flight that disappeared some three years before the shuttle that gifted Reed Richards and his crew their powers. Where [i]they[/i] returned with incredible abilities and were met adulation, the world forgot about Hank Henshaw and those aboard his ship.”[/color][/b]

Clark shook his head in disbelief as he imagined Henshaw drifting through space unaided.

[b][color=steelblue]“How could he have survived out there? That doesn’t make any sense.”[/color][/b]

J’onn smiled.

[color=mediumseagreen][b]“Less sense than a Kryptonian life raft crashing to Earth and it’s passenger becoming Earth’s protector? Or a Martian pulled to Earth by a teleportation beam designed by an elderly professor? I do not think so.”[/b][/color]

He crunched his way through the last two Oreos as Clark nodded in acceptance.

[b][color=steelblue]“I take your point.”[/color][/b]

J’onn twisted the silver Oreo wrapper between his fingers at great speed, making small tears and folds as he went, as he formed a model out of it. He held the model up to Clark. It was a perfect replication of Clark’s Fortress of Solitude. J’onzz twisted the silver paper Fortress between his fingers and it floated through the air across the table towards Clark.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“Henshaw is coming back, Clark, and from the course he is plotting I believe his destination is none other than your Fortress of Solitude. We must be there to meet him when he arrives.”[/color][/b]

Clark lifted the paper Fortress up and twisted it between his fingers.

[b][color=steelblue]“How long do we have?”[/color][/b]

The momentary pleasure that the Oreos had brought J’onn disappeared. The Martian stared down at the watch on his wrist and his expression shifted back into a blank stare that was as grave as it was unforgiving.

[b][color=mediumseagreen]“Six hours.”[/color][/b]