Dio: "Haha, isn't that easy to guess?"
"Nothing's really going on."
Over the phone, the rustle of flipping papers came through, as if the secretary was using the sound to cover something up.
After a brief silence, Lock spoke up:
"If there's anything I can help with," he said finally, "have Lionel give me a call. No need to be shy about it."
"Mm-hmm."
Beep beep beep.
The call ended, and Lock started walking toward the distant skyscraper.
"Sir."
But then, a small tug pulled at the hem of his coat.
He turned to see Zatanna looking up at him, her emerald-green eyes brimming with a pitiful, pleading expression.
"Take me with you, pleeease? I'm totally lost around here."
"…"
Lock paused, his gaze lingering on her face—or more specifically, on the magic wand in her hand—for a moment.
A few seconds later, a slight smirk curved his lips. "Not entirely out of the question."
Zatanna's eyes lit up.
"But," Lock added slowly, dragging out the word, "you've gotta do me a favor first."
Five minutes later…
The top floor of LionelCorp Tower.
Inside the heavy fire door of the emergency stairwell.
"Ugh… give me a sec…"
The golden light faded, revealing Zatanna. Her face was pale as she clung to the cold concrete wall with one hand, the other pressed over her mouth, fighting the nausea churning in her stomach. Her voice was weak.
"This time… the magic took too much out of me. The backlash… it's rough."
Lock nodded, quickly and cautiously scanning their surroundings.
Good.
No awkward crashes into walls, no dangling in midair.
This time, they'd landed safely, feet firmly on the ground at their target.
And… more magic power in the bag?
Feeling the surge of energy coursing through him, a faint, satisfied smile crept onto Lock's face.
Looking at the still-dizzy girl in front of him, he instinctively reached out, gently ruffling her soft hair in a comforting gesture.
"Not bad at all," he said, giving rare praise. "Your magic's actually pretty handy."
But the soft touch of her hair and the faint, pleasant scent of it made both of them freeze.
The air seemed to pause for half a second.
Zatanna's head snapped up, her emerald eyes locking onto Lock's, swirling with surprise, a hint of barely noticeable embarrassment, and a touch of… uncertainty.
She opened her mouth to say something but couldn't find the words.
"Ahem, sorry, sorry," Lock said quickly, pulling his hand back and tugging his hat lower to cover his awkwardness. He tried to laugh it off. "Old habit. I'm used to ruffling the kid's hair back home. Slipped up."
He braced for an outburst or scolding, but it never came.
"It's fine," the girl said softly, shaking her head.
"Is that Mr. Kent?!"
The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and a man in a uniform appeared at the stairwell entrance, slightly out of breath. His eyes locked onto them.
"Miss Gray told me to wait for you here! The helicopter's ready!" He steadied his breathing and gestured to the side. "Please, follow me. We'll have you back in Kansas in about two hours."
---
The early morning sun was just spilling over the wheat fields of Kent Farm when a deafening roar shattered the peace.
On the porch, Dio stood with dark circles under his eyes, his face so grim it could've dripped water.
His golden hair was a mess, like a tornado had torn through it.
Which, well… it kind of had.
A sleek, cold-lined business helicopter was landing in the front yard, its spinning blades whipping up a storm that sent the white sheets on the clothesline flapping wildly.
The cabin door opened, and Lock hopped out, one hand holding a coconut with a straw, the other shielding himself from the wind. He was sporting a pair of gaudy sunglasses and a Hawaiian lei around his neck, looking like a tourist straight off a beach vacation.
"Yo! If it isn't my favorite son!" Lock flashed a wide grin, showing off his pearly whites over the helicopter's noise. He shoved the ice-cold coconut into Dio's arms. "Try it! Freshly picked, the real deal!"
"…"
Dio's face darkened further. He was cradling Sarafiel, who was fast asleep, her tiny hand clutching a strand of his hair.
Clearly, she'd put him through the wringer last night.
"Your so-called 'test field,'" Dio growled through gritted teeth, "was just you gallivanting off to some tropical paradise?"
God only knows what Dio Kent went through last night!
Playing both dad and mom—exhausting didn't even begin to cover it.
Mixing formula, changing diapers, soothing a fussy baby—he'd been run ragged.
He'd finally made it to dawn, only for this blasted helicopter noise to yank him out of a shallow sleep! It was the final straw.
And to top it all off…
His gaze shifted past Lock to the dark-haired girl stumbling out of the helicopter behind him.
She looked vaguely familiar, but aside from being pretty, she didn't seem to have much going for her.
She was rubbing her forehead, looking around like a broken radio antenna—twisting this way and that but never picking up a signal. She didn't exactly scream "sharp."
But that was a side issue for now.
"Spill it!" Dio took a step closer, still holding Sarafiel, his voice seething with barely contained rage. "Where the hell were you 'living it up' last night?!"
Lock scratched his head with a sheepish laugh. "My boy, it's a long story—"
"Old man!"
Dio exploded. "Do you have any idea how exhausting last night was?!"
He held up Sarafiel, who let out a sleepy "oo" in protest.
"I was mixing formula, changing diapers, singing lullabies—" Dio's voice trembled with frustration. "I—I—"
Lock's playful grin vanished instantly.
He whipped off the tacky sunglasses, revealing deep, serious eyes that quickly welled with emotion.
"Dio…" His voice choked, and he clutched his chest. "You finally get how hard it is to be a single dad? That's how I raised you…"
Dio: "…"
Taking a deep breath to stop himself from summoning his Stand to deck his old man, Dio nodded toward the girl.
"Who's she?"
Lock cleared his throat, snapping back to business. "This is Miss Zatanna Zatara. She's—"
"Your secret daughter, my older sister, right?" Dio cut in.
"?"
Lock's face slowly morphed into a giant question mark, like he'd been hit with a wild accusation out of nowhere.
"Makes sense," Dio said with a cold smirk, crossing his arms. "You're a nearly thirty-five-year-old widower. Who else would even give you the time of day?"
He glanced Zatanna up and down. "Same black hair as Sarafiel. Gotta be my long-lost sister, right?"
"…"
Stunned into silence by his son's flawless logic, Lock was at a loss for words.
That idiot Clark…
Did he sneak Dio off to binge those melodramatic soap operas from the peninsula again?!