Stories nominated for the 2013 Kerth Awards

According to the schedule page at the official Kerth Awards site, voting opens Saturday, March 30th, 2013, and closes midnight, Sunday, April 7. The ceremony is scheduled tor Saturday, April 13th, at a time to be determined.

Best Super Short

A Little Advice by Caroline K

Glasses by Mary Potts

The Red Bikini by Deadly Chakram

The Tide by Shayne T*

The Truth About Soul Mates by VirginiaR.

Best Short

Ants at a Picnic by Morgana

The Whole Truth by Sue S.

T.O.G.O.M. for 2011 by Tank Wilson

T.O.G.O.M. 2012 -- Moving On by Tank Wilson

Truths That Deceive by Anti-Kryptonite

Worth the Risk by Sue S.*

Best Mid-Length

A Lois and Clark Fairytale: Lois and the Beast by Adam Labotka

Cafe Americana by Morgana

Identity by Bob Bartholomew

Observational Skills by Anti-Kryptonite

Snowbound by Deadly Chakram

Best WAFFy

Burn by HappyGirl

Fireworks by VirginiaR.

High Tide by Sue S.*

My Love by Anonpip

Operation: Cupid by Deadly Chakram

Worth the Risk by Sue S.*

Best Comedy

Cold Lake by Classicalla*

Glasses by Mary Potts

Late Night at the Daily Planet by Deadly Chakram

Lex Luthor's Bucket List by Marcus Rowland*

Lois Rules! by VirginiaR.

Super Polish by Mouserocks

Best Revelation

Cold Lake by Classicalla*

Revelations at the Lake by Dandello

Spark of Discovery by Deadly Chakram

The European Adventures of Lois Lane by Mozartmaid

The Whole Truth by Sue S. / And Nothing But the Truth by Sue S.

Best Episode Adaptation

A Little Advice by Caroline K

Identity by Bob Bartholomew

Nightfall Honeymoon by VirginiaR.

Observational Skills by Anti-Kryptonite

T.O.G.O.M. for 2011 by Tank Wilson

T.O.G.O.M. 2012 -- Moving On by Tank Wilson

Best Drama

Accused by Female Hawk

Despair by Mouserocks

Double Jeopardy by Stopquitdont

Some Things Are Meant to Be by Deja Vu

Specimen S by Deadly Chakram

Best Relationship

Contractually Bound by Deadly Chakram

Nightfall Honeymoon by VirginiaR.

Only in My Dreams by bakasi

Snowbound by Deadly Chakram

The European Adventures of Lois Lane by Mozartmaid

The Way It Should Have Been by Stopquitdont

Best Alternate/Elseworlds/Next Generation

A Lois and Clark Fairytale: Lois and the Beast by Adam Labotka

Contractually Bound by Deadly Chakram

Specimen S by Deadly Chakram

The Pub by Bob Bartholomew

The Way It Should Have Been by Stopquitdont

Wrong Trilogy, Book 1: Another Dimension, Another Time, Another Lois by VirginiaR.

Best Original/Supporting Character

Accused — Mrs McCreadie & Lana Lang — by Female Hawk

Cafe Americana — Grace and Mike — by Morgana

The Diagnosis — Todd — by Lynn S.M.

Luthor's Revenge, Take 2 — Lex — by Tank Wilson

Hattie Kaplin, Reporter — Hattie Kaplan — by KenJ

The Choices of Others — Tara — by chickberry*

Best New Author

(Links go to author's section on the archive)

Akayhe83

chickberry (not yet on the archive)

KenJ

Lauren K

Pat aka Angelsgmaw

Ron Rogers

Best Overall

Accused by Female Hawk

Contractually Bound by Deadly Chakram

Identity by Bob Bartholomew

Specimen S by Deadly Chakram

The Whole Truth by Sue S. / And Nothing But the Truth by Sue S.

* = hosted on lcficmbs.com message boards, not yet on the archive

Accused

By Female Hawk <hawka@iinet.net.au>

Rated PG-13

Submitted January 2013

Summary: Clark is facing a serious accusation, and he has no way to refute it without revealing the big secret. Just when everything looks lost, Lois steps in …

Setting — This fic is set early in the second season (before TOGoM). A couple of months have passed since Lois’s almost wedding to Lex Luthor, Clark’s confession of love for Lois, and his subsequent denial of his feelings.

Disclaimer — the recognisable characters from ‘Lois and Clark:The New Adventures of Superman’ are not mine.

Many thanks to my BR, Iolanthe Alias, for her wonderful suggestions and continued support. Also, thanks to GooBoo for being the GE.

***

Part 1

Clark Kent walked listlessly towards his apartment after another day at the Daily Planet.

Another Lois-less day.

He missed her. Missed her terribly. She’d been gone for less than a week, but it felt as if all his enthusiasm for living had gone with her.

He loved his life in Metropolis. He loved his job at the Daily Planet. He loved the feeling of being a part of the forever-pulsing bustle of city living.

But without Lois, something vital was missing.

Like apple pie — with no apple.

A skiing vacation — with no snow.

A song — with no melody.

She would be back tomorrow. Her week of leave would be over, and she would return to the Planet. Did that mean she was in Metropolis now? Could he call her? Could he? Just to say ‘hi’? She would wonder why he’d called. She’d probably ask. And then what would he say? Perhaps, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” That would be the truth, but Clark recoiled from the thought of actually admitting it to her.

It didn’t fit with the ‘I just want to be friends’ lie he had told her after the Luthor debacle.

Last Wednesday, after receiving a phone call, she’d bombarded him with instructions for their current stories as she’d hastily cleared her desk. When he’d enquired about her sudden need to take leave, her only response had been a few muttered words, telling him not to worry.

But he had worried. Because she was Lois.

He tried to conjure her voice in his mind. He did, but it was vague and not particularly satisfying. He ached to hear her voice. Really hear it.

And he wanted to see her.

To laugh with her.

To work with her.

To be with her.

He had missed her so much.

He’d been counting down the hours since earlier today when, in response to his casually worded enquiry, Perry had told him Lois had called to confirm her return from leave.

Tomorrow. Seven o’clock. A little over nine hours. When he arrived at the Planet tomorrow morning, she would be there. Or about to arrive.

Nine hours. Clark would tell her about the stories of the past week, and he would bring her coffee. He would watch her, and laugh with her and ... He would feel as if the colour had returned to a life that had faded to insipid grey.

Because this week had been confusing. And lonely. And disturbing. For a whole lot of reasons.

Firstly, Lois hadn’t been here.

And, as he’d realised in about the first thirty seconds after saying ‘bye’ to her as she’d rushed towards the elevator, without her, he felt lost.

Which was ridiculous.

But there it was. Without Lois, he felt lost. Incomplete. Hollow. Aimless.

And then, adding further confusion, there was Mayson.

Mayson, who was intelligent and pretty and clearly attracted to him. She was a nice woman – but a nice woman with one critical flaw.

She wasn’t Lois.

A few hours after Lois had left, Mayson had come to the Planet and offered to make a meal for him. Clark hadn’t been able to find a polite way to refuse her offer, so she had arrived at his apartment that evening loaded with food, which she had cooked more than competently. She’d left her new baking pan on his stove.

The evening had gone well enough. She had asked about his life and freely given information about hers. When she had left, she had kissed him on the mouth and it hadn’t been entirely unpleasant.

But she wasn’t Lois.

Mayson had come to the Planet two days later, and Clark had feared that the primary reason for her visit was to prod him into asking her out on a date. A real date — to a restaurant or a movie. He hadn’t obliged, because spending time with one woman when his mind was completely engrossed with someone else didn’t seem like the right thing to do. And he didn’t want Mayson to think there was a possibility of anything beyond friendship with him.

There wasn’t. She wasn’t Lois.

But, somehow – Clark was still unsure exactly how it had eventuated – she had come to his apartment again and he had cooked for her. As he’d prepared the food, he’d allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that it was Lois who was about to knock on his door. Then, because he’d felt guilty, he’d tried to be extra nice to Mayson as they’d spent the evening together.

Which meant her goodnight kiss had lingered – and he’d gotten the impression that if he’d pushed for more, she would have eagerly complied.

But, she wasn’t Lois.

So, he had broken away and told Mayson he was tired. She had left rather abruptly after that, but not before Clark had cringed at the disappointment so evident in her face.

The next morning, his shower — and his musings about Lois — had been interrupted by a knock on his door. He’d looked through the walls, seen Mayson standing there, supersped through the rest of his preparations, and opened the door.

She’d said she wanted to buy him breakfast to thank him the wonderful meal the previous evening. Clark had invited her in — primarily to give himself a few moments to try to conjure an excuse. He’d left her in the living room and gone to his bedroom, ostensibly to straighten his tie, and decided that breakfast might be the perfect opportunity to inform Mayson he could never love her romantically.

Problem was, he knew how that felt.

Lois. The park. I have been in love with you for a long time. You must have known.

And her reply, shredding his heart: I do love you, but only as a friend.

Who would have thought being a ‘friend’ could cause such anguish?

As Clark had eaten breakfast with Mayson, he’d tried. He had. But his attempt to tell her gently had been interrupted by a call for Superman and then, within moments of him returning to the table, terminated by a call from Perry ordering Clark to chase up the story of the rescue.

He’d paid for breakfast and hurried off, the words still unsaid.

That night, he’d spent the evening patrolling the dark skies above Metropolis, only returning to his apartment long after midnight. A note had been pushed under his door: Clark, Sorry to have missed you. Thanks for the lovely breakfast. I have two tickets for The Merry Widow on Friday night. Care to join me? Mayson.

But by Friday night, Lois would be back in Metropolis.

And he couldn’t keep on seeing Mayson. It wasn’t fair to her. He had to tell her the truth.

It was almost ten o’clock when Clark arrived at his apartment door, having pledged to himself that the very next time he saw Mayson, he would tell her he didn’t want to date her.

That sounded so harsh. There had to be better words. Kinder words. But Clark couldn’t find them.

As he inserted the key, he heard footsteps behind him and turned. It was his neighbour, cradling her striped ginger cat in her arms. “Hello, Mrs McCreadie,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as relieved as he felt. “Have you been out?”

“Hello, Clark,” she said in a much more sombre tone than her usual cheery greeting. “Pannikin is unwell, so I took her to the vet.”

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Clark said, reaching over to stroke the top of Pannikin’s head.

“The vet is very concerned,” she said. “Tonight is critical. If Pannikin is still with us tomorrow morning, she might make it.”

“Oh, no,” Clark said, noticing that the cat did indeed look lethargic and its coat lacklustre.

“The vet wanted Pannikin to stay at the clinic, but I know she would be distressed if I left her alone.” Mrs McCreadie lovingly scratched behind the cat’s ears. “I told the vet I’ll stay up with her the whole night and watch over her.”

“She’s fortunate to have such a dedicated owner,” Clark said.

“I would do anything for Pannikin. She’s been with me since before I came to Metropolis.”

“I hope she’s feeling much better by the morning,” Clark said.

“Thank you.” Mrs McCreadie looked around as if expecting someone else to materialise from the darkness. Clark stifled the urge to check behind him for the lurking presence of Mayson. “You’re home late,” his neighbour commented. “Did you go out for a meal?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve only just finished at the Planet.” He didn’t add that he had deliberately delayed coming home in the hope of avoiding both Mayson and a long evening alone counting down the minutes until he would see Lois again.

“Are you expecting company?”

“Nothing planned.”

Mrs McCreadie smiled and patted his arm. “Perhaps you’ll get a nice little surprise then.”

After the regularity of her visits this week, Mayson appearing on his doorstep would hardly constitute a surprise. Not knowing what to say, Clark gave a plastic smile.

“I’ll let you go,” his neighbour said. “I need to get Pannikin settled, and I’m sure you’ll want to get ready. Just in case someone decides to pay you a visit.”

She turned and waddled towards the steps that led up to her second-floor apartment.

Unable to suppress his tenuous hope that Lois might drop in — just to tell him she was back — Clark quickly scanned the area outside his apartment. No Lois.

No Mayson, either.

With a sigh that was an incongruous mix of disappointment and relief, Clark entered his apartment and closed the door.

Mayson’s baking pan was still on his bench. He’d reminded her several times to take it, but after the aborted kiss, she’d picked up her bag and left quickly.

He wasn’t in love with Mayson.

He never would be.

Because he loved Lois.

And even though she didn’t love him – not in the way he wanted – he was nowhere near recovered enough to think about being with any other woman.

He doubted he ever would be.

He was probably more in love with Lois than he had been the day in the park when he had offered her his heart. His love. His lifetime of devotion.

She hadn’t wanted him. Not like that.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a sound came from his bedroom. A footstep. Clark snapped around, his heart plummeting. Mayson was here? Waiting for him? In his bedroom?

He reached to slide his glasses down his nose, but before he’d looked through the wall, a woman appeared in the doorway.

It wasn’t Mayson.

“Lana?” Clark gasped. “What are you doing here?”

She stepped up to him, wearing his black leather jacket. “Clark,” she said. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?”

She wasn’t his best friend. That place in his life belonged to Lois. Pushing that thought aside, Clark tried to pull his face to a smile of welcome. “You surprised me,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you. I –”

Lana swept him into an embrace that seemed overdone for someone he hadn’t seen in almost two years.

“I gave up waiting for you to return to Smallville, Clark,” Lana said as she backed away — although her hands remained attached to his upper arms. “I know you came for the Corn Festival last year, but I was touring Europe, so we missed each other.”

Actually, Clark hadn’t missed her at all — because Lois had been there — but now didn’t seem the appropriate moment to disclose that information.

“I had a wonderful time in Europe, Clark,” Lana continued. “I met so many amazing people. The fashion was incredible.” She released his arms, spread his jacket wide, and twirled around, causing her dress to billow out from her body. “I got this little number in a divine store in Paris. Do you like it? It’s Prada.”

He passed a token glance over her dress and gave a terse nod.

“And I got my hair styled at the premier salon in Paris,” she said, running her fingers through her hair.

“It’s shorter,” Clark managed. “And darker.”

“Yes. Blondes are so ... vapid.”

“They are?”

“But, I’m back home now,” Lana said with a little squeal and an accompanying jump of excitement. “So we can make up for lost time.”

“How did you get in here?” Clark asked, noting that she hadn’t just come into his apartment, but had gone through his closet, as well.

He had tried to smooth any trace of accusation from his tone, but Lana’s fleeting scowl assured him he had failed. “Clark,” she said. “You might think you’ve become proficient at the big city reporter charade, but you’re still a Smallville boy at heart.”

“How did you –”

“The key was under the mat. Just like in Smallville.”

“How did you know this is my apartment?”

“As you never bothered to send me even a Christmas card, I had to ask your parents for your address.”

A stream of questions jostled through Clark’s mind. How long are you staying? What do you want? Why are you here? Summoning every ounce of the good manners his mother had instilled in him, he instead asked, “Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Not now,” Lana said, impatience crusting her words. “I have a restaurant booked. One of the best in Metropolis, according to the review. Table for two. We’re over an hour late because of your tardiness, but at the prices they charge, I’m sure they’ll be able to fit us in somewhere.”

“Lana ...”

“Yes, Clark?” There was a hard edge to her question — a tone Clark remembered too well.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “I’ve been working all day. It’s after ten o’clock.”

Lana moved closer again, and Clark resisted the impulse to step back. “You don’t want to go to the restaurant?” she demanded. “I’ve come all this way to see you, and it’s too much trouble to take me out for a meal?”

Clark could feel himself being jammed into a figurative corner. “Lana, you should have called me. You should have told me you were coming.”

“Do you have plans with someone else?”

“Not exactly.”

She strode to his phone, seized the handset, and held it towards him. “Whatever your ‘not exactly’ plans are, you can call and cancel.”

He didn’t have plans — only vague notions that he really needed to speak with Mayson and a simmering question about whether calling Lois to check she was home safely was a good idea. “I told you,” he said. “I don’t have concrete plans.”

Lana smacked the handset onto the table, leaving the phone off the hook. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“I’ve already eaten,” Clark said — which was true. He’d flown to Rome for a pizza. He gestured to his charcoal jacket and navy pants. “I’d need to change my clothes. I –”

Lana eyed him as if she were seeing him for the first time. Her upper lip curled in distaste. “You’re certainly right about that,” she said. “Who chose that outfit?”

Clark brushed at his tie. It was crimson and — he’d thought — a perfect match for his shirt.

Lana gingerly clamped the end of his tie between her forefinger and thumb. “What is that splattered on it?” she asked. “Something you ate for breakfast?”

Clark hastily looked down. There was nothing on his tie. Nothing that wasn’t supposed to be there. “It’s a flower,” he said.

Lana’s pout smoothed to a smile. She released his tie and stroked it into place against his shirt. “If you’re going to be taking off any clothes, perhaps we could skip dinner and move straight to the dessert,” she suggested in a low throaty voice that whipped panic through his stomach.

“Dessert?” he croaked, pretending he didn’t understand.

She slid right up to him. Her arms surrounded his neck. Her body rasped against his. Her mouth commandeered his, her tongue tapped on his zipped-up lips.

Clark placed his hands on her waist, trying to put some distance between them. Her lower body moved, but her upper body — and her mouth — remained firmly stuck to him.

Clark jerked his head backwards. “Lana,” he said, somehow managing to overcome the temptation to wipe his mouth.

Lana looked at him with a practiced mix of surprise and hurt. “What’s wrong, Clark?” she asked in a little-girl voice that scratched annoyance through his confusion.

“We broke up nearly a decade ago,” he said. “And we haven’t seen each other since I came to Metropolis.”

“I know you were devastated when I said we needed to take a break from each other,” Lana said. “But we’ve both had time to grow up; to find out who we really are. Now is the ideal time to get back together. We’re perfect for each other.”

Actually, ‘relieved’ had been closer to the truth than ‘devastated’. “But Lana, I ...”

Her hard eyes ran over his face. “Is there someone else?” It sounded like an accusation.

“Lana, we’ve both moved on. Made new friends. We have different lives now.”

“Is there someone else?” she said with icy definition dripping from each individual word.

“Yes.”

“That’s OK, Clark. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I’m moving to Metropolis.”

“You are?” Clark gasped. “I mean ... when did you decide this?”

Her hand settled on his chest, straddling his tie. “When I realised I am still in love with you, it was the obvious decision. We have to be together, Clark. We share so much history. We know things about each other. Things no one else –”

Her impassioned torrent of words was chopped off by a sharp knock at the door. Clark tilted his head to look over his glasses and suppressed his groan.

It was Mayson.

At least she wasn’t toting a bag of groceries.

“You have company,” Lana said in much the same tone she might have used to announce he had an infestation of rats. “You said you didn’t have plans.”

“I don’t,” Clark said. “But –”

“Whoever it is, get rid of her. We have important things to discuss.”

The knock sounded again, and feeling helpless to avoid the avalanche that was about to dump on his life, Clark went to his door. “Hi, Mayson,” he said after he’d opened it.

“Hi, Clark.” She stepped past him, although he hadn’t actually moved aside.

He didn’t shut his door. When he turned, Mayson and Lana were facing each other like two alley cats in dispute over a piece of meat.

Clark had always considered himself a novice when dealing with women, but he would have had to be completely clueless to have missed that he was the most likely candidate to be the piece of meat.

And, from the expressions on their faces, Mayson and Lana had taken an instant dislike to each other.

“Mayson Drake ... Lana Lang,” he said dutifully.

After a curt nod, Mayson pointedly turned her attention from Lana and centred it on Clark. “I have tickets for that show on Friday,” she said. “You never got back to me about coming.”

Lana chortled — loud and inelegant.

Clark ignored her. “I ... I’ve been busy,” he said. “Sorry.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out now,” Mayson said. “Get a hot chocolate. Or maybe a nightcap.”

Lana sidled between them, standing in front of Clark and facing Mayson. “Sorry, Miss Drake,” she said. “But Clark has plans with me. And he’ll be busy on Friday, too. And every other day you have in mind.”

Clark stepped out from behind her. “Lana,” he said firmly. “I can speak for myself.”

Lana whirled around. “But you won’t,” she said. “The fact that she’s still buzzing around, brandishing tickets to a show you have no interest in seeing with her makes it clear you’ve been tiptoeing around the truth.” Lana spun back to Mayson. “He’s not interested in you,” she said. “I know Clark Kent. When he’s interested in a woman, she doesn’t have to chase him. He follows her around like a lost puppy.”

“I do not,” Clark proclaimed indignantly.

Lana patted his arm in a patronising gesture. Clark shoved his hands into his pockets and tucked his elbow against his side, out of her reach.

“So you see, Miss Drake,” Lana said with a sugary smile. “You’ve been wasting your time. Clark is with me. He was with me a long time before he met you, and he will be with me when you are nothing more than a grubby smudge on his memory.”

Mayson broke from her shocked speechlessness and turned to Clark. “Clark –”

Lana exploded. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she screamed. “You are –”

“Lana,” Clark said, pitching his voice low in an attempt to undercut her hysteria. “Don’t be so –”

Her anger turned on him as her fist bounced on his chest. “You’ve been cheating on me, Clark,” she shrieked. “Don’t deny it. I know exactly what has been happening behind my back.”

Clark lifted his hand in a feeble attempt to calm her. “Lana –”

“We had an agreement, Clark,” Lana wailed. “I trusted you when you said you loved me. I trusted you when you said you wanted to be with me forever. I gave myself to you, never thinking you’d treat me with such contempt.”

Clark felt a mesh of concern close around his throat, strangling him. He had never told Lana he loved her. He hadn’t loved her then, and he certainly didn’t love now. Could it be possible she really thought they had an agreement? Or was this an act, solely for Mayson’s benefit? “Lana, we didn’t –”

“You always pretend to be so pure and principled, Clark,” Lana screamed. “But you’re just like the rest. A woman with passably OK legs and a face that isn’t completely cringe-worthy slinks into your life and twitches her tight little butt at you, and you –”

Clark grasped Lana’s shoulders and tried to meet her wildly thrashing eyes. “Calm down, Lana,” he said, trying to sound firm despite keeping his volume low. “This isn’t helping.”

Her anger turned to tears. “You don’t understand, Clark,” she shrilled. “I love you. I need you.”

“Lana. We –”

“How could you, Clark?” she said, her question punctuated with loud sobs. “How could you break my heart?”

“Perhaps I should leave,” Mayson said.

In a split second, Lana shed all the trappings of hysteria and gave Clark a frosty look. “This isn’t how I was going to tell you, Clark,” she said, “but you’ve left me no choice.”

She couldn’t know his secret. Could she? They’d been together for a little under a year — a year when he’d still been adapting to his strange powers. “Lana –”

“I’m pregnant, Clark,” Lana said. “With your child.”

Part 2

Lois Lane entered her apartment, dumped her suitcase on the floor, and collapsed onto her sofa, expelling a gush of relief that she was home.

It had been the most draining week of her life.

It had been like being forced to watch a movie that opened with the main character in a mire of trouble, moved on to give excruciating detail of all the previous events that had led to her current predicament, and then finished without the slightest attempt to offer a resolution or even a breath of hope for recovery.

Lois had spent the days caught in the web of her mother’s alcohol-soaked animosity and despair.

She’d spent the nights snagged between disturbing dreams and awakened memories of years passed.

But the scariest thing of all had been the chilling insight that, in so many ways, Lois was travelling the exact same path that had delivered Ellen Lane into rehabilitation, isolated, angry, and utterly dispirited.

Lois had perfected the art of building walls to keep the rest of the world at bay. She knew they called her ‘Mad Dog’ behind her back, just as surely as she knew she would prefer they believe her to be cold and ruthless rather than risk anyone seeing the loneliness that saturated her soul.

After bidding her mother goodbye — a quick kiss to a stony cheek and a tentative, unacknowledged smile — Lois had left the rehab centre feeling as if she were escaping from a prison.

As she had begun the long drive home, she had made her decision.

She was going to change.

She was.

She was going to stop building the walls. She was even going to try to allow a few cracks to appear in the ones that were already there. She was going to try to be open and honest with the important people in her life.

She was not going to let pride and fear fester to rancid bitterness and condemn her to a life lived alone.

Even if ...

Lois gulped down a sob.

Even if her epiphany had come too late to save her from her biggest mistake.

***

Clark’s eyes dropped from Lana’s face to sweep over her body as his lower jaw hung like a snapped twig. “But,” he spluttered. “We didn’t –”

“I know we didn’t plan it, Clark, darling,” Lana said with a gushy smile. “But these things happen. And now, you’re going to be a daddy.”

“But –”

Lana cut across his protest and turned to Mayson, opening wide the fronts of Clark’s jacket to reveal a slight protrusion under her dress. “So you see, Miss Drake, there can be no future to your little dalliance with Clark. He has responsibilities now. Responsibilities that don’t include you.”

Mayson’s gaze — full of shock and condemnation — fell on Clark. “Is it true?” she asked.

“No, it’s not –”

As the words of denial left his mouth, Lana’s temper erupted. She thumped his arm. “No!” she screamed. “No! I won’t let you do this to me. You’re a hateful, unscrupulous, cheating lowlife, Clark Kent, and I wish I’d never met you.”

“Clark?” Mayson said in clear expectation of an answer.

Deciding another denial was only going to exacerbate Lana’s anger, Clark opted instead to try to telegraph his concern regarding her behaviour. “Mayson, would you mind?” he asked desperately. “I think Lana and I need to talk this out in private.”

Mayson nodded tautly, her heels tapping a curt rhythm as she moved to the door. Once there, she turned. “I hope you’re happy together,” she said, although it seemed to Clark that her good wishes crackled with scorn.

“Of course we’ll be happy together,” Lana said, suddenly calm again. “Clark and I will be getting married and giving our baby a proper family.”

Mayson pinned Clark with her eyes, waiting for him to speak, but his tongue felt cleaved to the roof of his mouth.

After a moment that had seemed to stretch forever, Mayson nodded brusquely and strode through the door, slamming it behind her.

“Mayson,” Clark called after her. He broke away from Lana and opened the still-vibrating door. “Mayson!”

She continued hurrying away from him, but his superhearing picked up the muffled sound of her sobs.

He sprinted to her. “Mayson!” He passed her and cautiously put out his hand, making sure he didn’t contact her. “Mayson,” he said, looking into her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she cried.

“I didn’t know Lana was coming tonight.”

“At least I understand why you could never be honest with me,” Mayson said. She laughed, a harsh and angry sound. “Why you kept stringing me along without ever explicitly stating how you felt. You must have been secretly mocking me the whole time. Did you joke about me to your –”

“No,” Clark said quickly. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I –”

“Then why didn’t you tell me there was someone else?”

Why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he come right out and said he was in love with Lois? “This ...” He gestured feebly towards the door of his apartment. “This is not what it looks like.”

Mayson dragged in a shuddery breath. “It looks like a man lapping up one woman’s attention while trying to wriggle out of his responsibilities to another woman.”

“It’s not true,” Clark stated. “If Lana is pregnant, the baby isn’t mine.”

Mayson’s eyes narrowed with scorn. “Why would she lie about it?”

“I don’t know,” Clark said. “Her behaviour is ... She’s worrying me.”

“Have you been dating her?”

“I haven’t seen her since I moved to Metropolis over a year ago,” Clark said, keeping his voice low and calm. “I don’t know why she came here. I don’t understand why she’s saying those things about us.”

“Then why didn’t you tell her that?”

“I tried to,” Clark said in his own defence. “And I’ll continue to try to make her see reason. But I thought it might be easier if we were alone.”

“We were alone, Clark,” Mayson said bitterly. “We’ve been alone on quite a few occasions this past week, but you never got around the telling me the truth.”

“It’s not my child,” Clark declared.

“I don’t mean that,” Mayson snapped. “I mean the fact that you will never be in love with me.”

On that point, he deserved her resentment. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted.

“You had your chance to deny her claims. But you just stood there and hoped everything would magically fix itself. Just like you did with me.”

He had denied Lana’s claims. “Mayson,” Clark said. “You saw her. She’s not thinking straight. She’s unstable.”

“I thought you were a better man than to stoop to questioning a woman’s mental state,” Mayson said. “I thought you’d face your responsibilities.”

Mayson didn’t believe him. Clark didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” Mayson said. “I finally understand. I won’t bother you again.” A tear escaped from her left eye and skittered down her cheek. Clark reached for her arm. She swung at his hand and swiped him away. “Don’t touch me,” she cried. “Don’t ever come near me again.”

She spun around and darted away. Clark watched her go as regret scorched his conscience.

He should have told her before now. In trying to avoid hurting her, he had compounded her humiliation.

But he couldn’t have predicted that Lana would suddenly re-appear in his life.

And he certainly couldn’t have predicted her allegation that he was the father of her child.

Clark turned and trudged back to his apartment.

He had to be direct with Lana.

He had to firm but gentle.

He didn’t love her. He never would.

And he was not the child’s father.

Clark stepped through the door to his apartment and closed it. Lana was sitting on the sofa, thumbing through his TV guide. He went over to her and crouched beside her. “Lana?” he said. “Are you all right?”

She looked up and gave him a glittery smile. “Now we have the whole evening together,” she said brightly.

“I didn’t make any promises to you,” Clark said. “We broke up, we went to different colleges, we travelled separately, I moved to Metropolis; we both knew our relationship was over.”

She shook her head as if he were a small child who had made a silly mistake. “We are meant to be together, Clark. We have a bond — a bond that can never be broken. We share secrets — things no one else knows about us.”

Secrets? Clark searched her face as icy fingers of fear slithered through his stomach. What was Lana trying to tell him?

She gripped his arm, under his jacket, just above his wrist. He balled his hand into a fist to stop himself from drawing away. “It’s OK, Clark,” she said. “I won’t tell your parents about you sowing some wild oats with that blonde hussy.”

“We didn’t –”

Her fingernails dug into his arm. “Don’t lie to me, Clark,” Lana said in a cold voice. “I may be able to overlook past indiscretions, but I will not tolerate being treated like a fool. You are never to see her again.”

Clark figured that would suit Mayson just fine. “What do you want, Lana?” he said. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve already told you what I want. And I’m here to take what is mine.”

He had to make a stand. “Lana, I don’t love you.”

“You’ll learn to love me again,” she said. “You’ll see that this is right for all three of us.” She draped her other hand around his neck. “So? The restaurant? Or a quiet night in? You choose, darling.”

“Lana, you know the baby isn’t mine. I haven’t seen you for over a year.”

“It’s yours now,” she chirped.

“Lana, that’s not how it works. You need help. And support. Have you told your parents? What about the father? Does he know you’re pregnant?”

“I’ve chosen you to be the baby’s father,” Lana said with a smile. “I thought you would be honoured, Clark.”

“I ... I am honoured that you think I would be a good father to your child,” Clark said. “But it’s not what I want.”

She held his eyes for a long moment. “You’ve always wanted a family, Clark.”

“Yes, but –”

“This is your only chance. You’re a smart boy. Take it.”

He had to be direct. Brutal, even. “I’m in love with someone else.”

“The dim-witted blonde?”

Clark shook his head. “No. Someone else.”

“Well, clearly she isn’t in love with you or she would have stopped that scrawny woman from hanging around you like a cat in heat.” Lana hooked her hand further around his neck. “But I want you, Clark. The baby and me — we want you. We are going to give you the family you’ve always dreamed of having.”

Clark clasped her forearm and removed her hand from his neck as he straightened to a standing position. “I’ll call you a cab, Lana,” he said, looking around for her suitcase. “You can go back to your hotel, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow –”

“But Clark, I’m staying here,” Lana said with lilted surprise. “Why would I book into a hotel when you have room for me here?”

“You are not –”

Lana leapt from the sofa, her hand gripped his jaw like a vice, and her eyes drilled into his as her face filled his vision. “You forget who I am,” she said. “You forget that I knew you before you became a high-flying city reporter.”

Clark tried to smother his gasp. “Wh...what do you mean?” he asked as evenly as he could.

Her hand slipped away, but the unspoken threat hovered like smog. “I want you to accept my child as yours. I want you to marry me and help me raise the baby. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get what I want.”

Alarm rattled through Clark. Had she guessed the connection between the at-times-inexplicable young man she had known in Smallville and Metropolis’s superhero? “What are you talking about Lana?” he asked.

Her smile curdled. “We both know what I’m talking about, Clark. You’re not the man you pretend to me, and I imagine you really don’t want that — quite sensitive — information made public.”

While he was still dredging through his mind for a suitable response, it came.

The sound that — in so many ways — governed his life.

A cry for help. Someone needed Superman.

“Lana,” he said, snatching at the first thought that entered his head. “I have to go out. My editor, Mr White, gave me a story today, and he wants me to have the research done by tomorrow.”

Lana stared at him for a long moment, as if carefully measuring his words. “OK,” she said.

“OK?” he gasped.

“Of course, it’s OK. I expect there are things you need to see to — that other woman, for instance. You need to tell her it’s over between you. You need to inform your editor that you will be moving back to Smallville. And I’m sure you’re very eager to announce to your friends that you’re going to be a father and invite them over to meet your fiancée.”

The cry for help — the piercing voice of a frightened young child — came again, audible only to him. “I ... I have to go,” he said.

Lana reached up to kiss his cheek. “Don’t hurry,” she said. “I have some unpacking to do. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, because I’m sure there are hundreds of fashion stores in Metropolis and I know you’ll want to provide for your wife. I had to bring this beautiful dress, of course. It’s my favourite. And I brought all my skin care products from France, too. I simply couldn’t be seen by anyone if I didn’t have them.”

Clark took her elbow and led her into his bedroom. “The bathroom is through there,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

She smiled sweetly. “Of course, I will, darling. I am at home.”

Clark scuttled away. Once back in the living room, he looked through the wall and saw Lana heading into the bathroom. He spun into the Suit and flew out of the balcony door and into the Metropolis night sky.

It took less than ten minutes for Superman to extricate the child from the depths of the disused drain. He handed the wet, cold, and shaken youngster to the waiting mother, acknowledged her sobbed thanks, quickly answered a few questions from the gathered journalists, and flew away.

He floated above his apartment and looked down into it.

Lana had emptied his bathroom cabinet and was arranging an army of perfume bottles and makeup tubes on the shelves.

She was still wearing his leather jacket — a small detail that irritated him far more than was warranted. Somehow, it seemed ominously representative of her attempt to take over his life.

What was he going to do now?

There seemed little to be gained from confronting Lana again. She’d always been domineering and prone to emotionally charged outbursts when she didn’t get her own way, but he’d sensed something different in her tonight.

Something ... irrational. Erratic. Unsettling.

And that was particularly disconcerting if her thinly veiled threat to expose secrets referred to Superman’s identity.

Could she possibly know?

Clark thought back ... back to the year when he’d started a relationship with the bright hope that it could lead to the fulfilment of his dreams. The first few months had been good. He’d been so happy to have a girlfriend that he had been compliant putty in Lana’s hands — in everything except the physical side of their relationship. He’d long before decided that he wasn’t going to be intimate with a woman unless he trusted her enough to be completely honest with her.

And, even then, he’d been a long way from feeling right about trusting Lana with the truth.

But could she have figured it out? Could she have wondered about his occasional slips? His lame excuses? The unexplainable — a hay bale catching fire — that always seemed to happen in his presence?

When Superman had appeared in the skies of Metropolis, had she recognised him as being the clumsy teenager she had dated?

As Clark watched her, Lana positioned and then re-positioned her possessions in his cabinet. What did she know? What had she guessed? And how would she use it?

If only his superpowers included the ability to read minds.

She turned around and left the bathroom, standing at the foot of his bed and gazing around the room.

Before Clark could stop himself, he x-rayed her abdomen and saw it. Him. A tiny baby boy floating inside his mother’s womb, oblivious to the turmoil happening around him.

Clark switched off his extra vision and shook his head, trying to delete the stolen image from his mind.

What was he going to do?

Lois.

His longing for her welled up, absorbing his confusion, his anxiety, and his sense of being buried under an overwhelming mountain of difficulties.

He needed her.

But there was a small detail he needed to deal with first.

Clark waited a couple of minutes until Lana walked into his kitchen and began inspecting the contents of the cupboards. Then, he swished through his bedroom, clearing the Suits from the hidden compartment in his closet and depositing them in a never-used boiler room in the basement of the building.

Moments later, he was outside Lois’s window.

Her light was on. She was home!

He had to see her.

She would never know, but he needed her to be his harbour in the midst of the storm.

He gently tapped on the glass.

The curtain was swept back, and she was there. With a smile that stopped his breath, she opened the window, and he stepped into her apartment.

“Superman,” she said.

Clark folded his arms across his chest and hoped he could command his voice to the deep, slightly aloof superhero tone. “I’m just making sure you got home safely,” he said, realising his scant explanation was an insult to the vast array of his feelings for Lois Lane.

How glad he was to be with her again.

How, with one smile, she could make everything else fade to obscurity.

“I did,” she said.

“How was your time away?” he asked.

She shrugged, and he detected a trace of despondency in her gesture, making him yearn to enclose her in his arms and hold her until the shadows had dissolved.

He took a step closer and risked a fleeting touch to her shoulder. “You look tired,” he said. Wanting to lighten the moment, he added, “It must have been some vacation.”

She didn’t reply immediately, and Clark wondered if she were debating whether to reveal her reasons for needing to leave Metropolis so suddenly. “It wasn’t a vacation,” she said.

“Oh,” she said, not trying to hide his concern. “Is everything all right?”

“Mom’s in rehab,” she said. “It was ... difficult.”

Clark tensed his arms to keep them from reaching for her. “Aw, Lois,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“I think she has given up,” Lois said bleakly. “I don’t think she can see any reason to put in the effort to get well again.”

“She has you.” The words were out before he could apply the Superman filter.

Lois smiled in response, but it wasn’t strong enough to dissolve her gloomy mood.

Clark’s longing to hold her intensified. He tried to touch her with words. “Maybe your mom didn’t say so, but I’m sure you being there would have meant a lot.”

Lois picked up a sweater from the back of her sofa, folded it, and replaced it in exactly the same place. “Have you seen Clark?” she asked, her eyes not meeting his.

“He got the story from yesterday’s attempted robbery at the art gallery,” Superman said.

“I read it,” she said. “It was good.”

“Not as good as when he works with you.”

Her smile made another appearance, stronger this time. Its warmth permeated his heart. “I won’t tell him you said that,” she said.

He smiled – as much as he ever allowed Superman to smile. “You don’t need to tell him,” he said. “Clark knows how fortunate he is to be your partner.”

She smiled again, and Clark desperately wanted to ask if she had missed anything about Metropolis. If she had missed Clark at all. Had she thought about him? Had she considered telling him about her concern for her mom? Was she looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow?

There was no way to ask any of those questions without risk of arousing the famous Lois Lane inquisitiveness, so Clark turned towards her window. “I should be going,” he said. “I’m glad you’re home safely.”

“Thanks for dropping by,” she said.

“If I can do anything to help ... with your mom ...”

Her smile was a mix of appreciation and gentle humour. “Thank you, Superman,” she said. “But I didn’t realise your powers included fixing a broken spirit.”

He was willing to try. For Lois, he was willing to try anything. “I wish they did,” he said.

“You should go,” she said with a fleeting touch to his elbow. “I’m tired, and there’s an entire city out there needing its hero.”

He stepped onto the ledge. “See you around,” he said, meaning, See you tomorrow morning.

As Clark flew out of the window, the oasis of Lois’s presence deserted him, and his troubles settled like a concrete shroud around his shoulders. What would happen if Lois found out about Lana’s claims? What would she think of him then? Would he get the opportunity to tell his side? And if he did, would she believe him?

Or would Lois think he had been seeing Lana in secret? Had fathered a child with her? And was now trying to worm out of his obligations?

Mayson hadn’t believed him.

He would hate it if Lois doubted him.

He wished he could go back to her apartment — as Clark. He wished he could confide in her.

Everything.

I never stopped loving you. I’m Superman. I’m in trouble. I need you. Would you stand by me and help me through this? I know I’ll be OK ... if you believe in me.

But he couldn’t. They’d made an agreement. They were friends. Friends and reporting partners. Nothing more.

He couldn’t go back to Lois, and he certainly didn’t want to be with Lana right now.

So, after a quick patrol of the streets, Clark turned west and flew to Smallville.

***

Lois picked up her phone but paused before dialling.

Clark.

Thoughts of him had been her constant companion during her time away from Metropolis.

She had missed him. Missed all those little facets of his personality that were so natural, it was easy to take them for granted — his friendship, his unwavering loyalty, his steadfast support, his good-natured teasing.

His smile.

She had even missed his flashy ties.

Lois quickly punched in the familiar number and waited, trying to calm her quivery eagerness to hear his voice.

His line was busy.

She replaced the phone as disappointment swept over her.

Perhaps he was calling his parents.

If she waited a few minutes ...

Lois glanced to her watch. Ten-fifty-seven. No, she decided. If she waited a few minutes, it would be after eleven o’clock, and that was too late for a hi-how-are-you call.

With a sigh, she checked the locks, and turned out the lights, still thinking about Clark.

Had he had a good week? Had he thought about her?

If he had missed her, had he missed his partner? Or his friend?

Perhaps it would be possible to have breakfast with him. She could call tomorrow morning and ask him to help her get up to speed with current stories. Encouraged by her idea, Lois set her alarm forty minutes earlier than was strictly necessary and went into the bathroom for a shower.

***

Clark landed quietly on the back doorstep of his parents’ farmhouse, spun into his regular clothes, and let himself into their kitchen. They were both at the table, drinking late-night cups of tea.

His mom looked up with a smile. “Clark,” she greeted. “Come and join us.” Her smile collapsed as he sat at the table. “What’s wrong, honey? Is it Lois?”

“Have you seen Lana Lang recently?”

“Yes,” his mom said with surprise. “She came by a few days ago.”

“Did she ask about me?”

“She said she was going to Metropolis for a few days and she would like to contact you.”

“Contact me?” Clark said. That was one way to describe her attempt to ravage his world.

“Did she?” his mom asked. “Contact you?”

He nodded. “When I got home tonight, she was already there. She’d let herself into my apartment.”

“Did she seem all right?” his dad said.

“She was ...” Clark searched for words that wouldn’t sound insulting. “ ... more.”

“More?” Jonathan echoed.

“More single-minded. More headstrong. More intractable. More incapable of accepting anything that ran contrary to her plans.”

“What did she want, son?” his dad asked.

Even though he knew his parents would believe him, Clark felt a strange reluctance to answer that question. “Did she tell you she’s pregnant?”

Hesitant smiles pushed through his parents’ expressions of shock. “Pregnant?” Martha said.

Clark nodded grimly.

“Was there any particular reason she wanted to see you?” his dad asked.

Something about his father’s tone made Clark think his reply wouldn’t be a complete surprise to his parents. “Yes,” he said. “She announced to a friend of mine that I am the father of her baby.”

“Oh no, Clark,” his mom breathed.

“I’m not the father,” Clark said quickly, his eyes darting between his parents as he tried to read their reaction to his statement. “Until tonight, I hadn’t seen her since I left Smallville.”

“That’s what we thought,” his dad said.

“Did she say anything to you?” Clark asked, suddenly horrified that Lana might have broadcast her announcement to the Smallville locals.

“Nothing specific,” his mom replied. “She said she expected to be seeing a lot more of us. She said she had been very confused when she went to Europe but was much clearer now about what she wanted. She kept smiling and winking as if she were trying to convey something she wasn’t prepared to say outright.”

“She has our future planned,” Clark said dismally. “She says we are getting married and I am going be the child’s father.”

“But surely — once your friend had gone — Lana couldn’t have kept on insisting you are the father,” Jonathan said. “She must know that you aren’t.”

“That’s the bit that has me really worried,” Clark said. “When I said I wasn’t going to marry her, she threatened to go public with what she called ‘sensitive information’ about me.”

The colour drained from his mom’s cheeks. “Aw, Clark,” she said.

“Do you think she could know?” he asked.

His parents glanced at each other, but neither spoke for a long moment. “She could, I guess,” his dad said.

“Superman has been around for over a year now,” Clark said. “Why has she waited this long to say something?”

Even as he asked the question, the answer became obvious. Now, she was pregnant. Alone. Feeling vulnerable. She needed someone.

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” his dad asked.

“I don’t love her,” Clark said forlornly. “I won’t ever love her.”

“Then you have to tell her that,” his mom said.

“I did.”

“What did she say?”

“That I will learn to love her again.”

“You need to be honest, son,” his dad said. “You can’t marry a woman you don’t love. You can’t accept a child that isn’t yours. You can’t allow yourself to be blackmailed.”

“The baby is a boy,” Clark admitted, feeling ashamed of his impetuosity now. “I looked.”

“And that boy has a father,” Martha said, patting his arm. “His parents need to work out what is best for him.”

“I’ve always wanted a family,” Clark said.

“But not this way,” his mother said firmly. “No marriage can work when one person has been coerced into it.”

“I know,” Clark said, thinking how different he would feel if it were Lois who was pregnant and it was his child. He would be rejoicing.

But she didn’t love him. She had wanted to marry Luthor.

Seeing the worry lining his parents’ faces, Clark dragged himself from his thoughts of Lois. “I’ll find a way to talk to Lana,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “She can’t really believe that she can choose a man and demand he be a father to her child.”

“Suggest she comes back to Smallville and talks to her parents,” his mom said. “I know Ray and Millie will want to help her.”

“I should get back,” Clark said as he stood. “I don’t think she should be alone for too long.”

His mom tried to rally him with a hopeful smile. “Perhaps Lana will be seeing things more rationally after some time to think,” she said.

His parents hugged him, murmuring words of support. Clark left the warmth of their kitchen, spun into the Suit, and flew back to Metropolis, facing the prospect of spending the night on his sofa and knowing that, unpalatable as that was, it was preferable to sharing his bed with a woman he didn’t love.

He flew over the city, checking the usual trouble spots. He saw two young men, circling each other in what looked like the prelude to a fight. He landed between them. They froze, and then both began shouting accusations at the other.

When their cries had died down, Superman told them to stop acting like spoiled children and to go home before someone did something stupid.

To his surprise, one, and then the other, turned and walked away.

Clark waited until they were out of sight and then zoomed back into the air.

Everything seemed quiet. Satisfied, he turned for home.

He landed on the balcony and stopped abruptly.

There were three men in his apartment.

One was Bill Henderson. One was Detective Wolfe of the homicide squad. The third was in a police uniform, someone Clark didn’t know personally, who was stationed at the door.

Clark slipped into the room. All three of them looked up at him.

“Superman,” Henderson said, moving aside. “You heard.”

“Heard what?” Clark’s gaze was drawn to where a body was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. He recognised her instantly. It was Mayson Drake, her blonde hair streaked with rivers of red. “Mayson?” he said, taking a hesitant step forward. “Ms Drake?”

“Stop!”

Superman froze at Wolfe’s cry. “We have cleared this walkway,” he said, indicating a path from the front door to where he and Henderson stood like sentinels over Mayson’s unmoving form. “Don’t contaminate the evidence.”

Superman rose a foot from the ground and floated over to the men, being careful to land in the designated area.

He crouched beside Mayson, already knowing there was nothing anyone could do to help her.

A pungent blend of shock and sorrow flooded through him. After taking a moment to recapture his Superman composure, Clark stood and faced the three men. “Was she dead when you arrived?”

Henderson nodded, but Wolfe fired a question. “Do you know the whereabouts of Clark Kent?” he said.

“No. I’ve been out –” Clark stopped as sharp realisation pummelled him. “Clark?” he said.

“We’re not jumping to any conclusions,” Henderson said quickly.

Wolfe shot his colleague a meaningful glance. “We want to question Kent,” he said. “If you know where he is, you should strongly advise him to give himself up.”

“Give himself up?” Clark gasped. “You think Clark did this?”

Wolfe nodded grimly. “As I see it, he’s about three questions away from being charged with murder.”

Part 3

Clark tore his eyes from the three police officers, his gaze drawn back to his fallen friend.

She’d been alive. In his apartment. Talking. Planning for a future — both short and long term. A future that had been violently ripped from her.

She’d been alive. Young. Vibrant. Capable of feeling emotions.

She’d been upset when she’d left his apartment. She’d arrived with hope and anticipation — excited about the tickets to the show — and had left with pain and disappointment.

That had been his fault. He should have told her. He’d had numerous opportunities over the past week to tell her how he felt, but he’d failed every time.

A heavy coating of guilt draped over the sadness welling up from his soul.

Henderson cleared his throat. “Have you heard from Clark?” he asked.

Clark snatched his eyes from the face that would never smile again. “No. I was out patrolling, and I –”

“You and Kent are particular friends?” Wolfe barked.

Clark tried to cover his surprise at the blatant suspicion sparking off the detective’s question. “I wouldn’t say particular friends,” he hedged.

“But you’re close enough that you drop into his apartment?”

Feeling the need for an explanation, Clark said, “I rescued a little boy caught down a flood drain. The city seemed quiet.”

“And you just happened to find yourself here?” Wolfe’s question was fired like a bullet.

“Clark’s a reporter. I –”

“So the rumours are true,” Wolfe said.

“What rumours?”

“That you give Kent and Lane an advantage in getting Superman exclusives.”

“I speak to all members of the media,” Superman said, desperately trying to shore up the barrier between Clark’s churning emotions and Superman’s cool, calm exterior.

“When was the last time you saw Kent?” Wolfe said.

Clark folded his arms across his chest, squared his stance, and forced himself to mould to the Superman guise. “Am I being questioned? Officially?”

“No, of course not, Superman,” Henderson said with a warning look towards Wolfe. “But we want what is best for Clark. And right now, that means finding him.”

“It seems you’ve already decided Clark did this,” Superman said, trying to keep his tone impersonal.

“It happened here, in his apartment,” Henderson said. “We have a –”

Wolfe stepped between them. “We are not at liberty to discuss any case with members of the public,” he said coldly. “The best thing you can do now, Superman, is to find Clark Kent and get him to the station.”

The grim expression on Wolfe’s face tightened the coils in Clark’s stomach. He turned to Henderson, but found no respite there. They both believed Clark had done this.

What had brought them to that conclusion?

“Have you checked the apartment?” Superman asked. “Is anyone here?”

“We checked for the presence of the perpetrator,” Henderson said. “The apartment was empty when we arrived, and only the Medical Examiner has come since then. Except you, of course.”

“When was the last time you saw Kent?” Wolfe said.

That was not an easy question to answer truthfully.

“Have you seen Clark this evening?” Henderson asked in a more reasonable tone than the one employed by Wolfe.

“No,” Superman said. He scanned the room, using his enhanced vision to look beyond the wall and into his bedroom and bathroom. Lana wasn’t here. The covers on his bed were ruffled.

Had the police noticed? And even if they had, how could they know that Clark Kent made his bed every morning as his mother had taught him? Where was Lana? Had she still been here when Mayson had returned? Why had she left? Had she done this? Had she been carrying a gun? Why hadn’t he checked her bag? Why had Mayson come back to his apartment?

Clark’s eyes travelled back to the heartbreaking motionlessness of her blood-streaked face and saw the answer to one of his questions. About two feet from Mayson — lying upside down, probably having fallen from her hand — was her shiny new baking pan.

“Did you know Ms Drake?” Wolfe asked.

Clark jolted his attention from the body, fearing he had allowed too much of Clark Kent to show through the Superman mask. “Not personally,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m insensitive to the tragedy of what happened here tonight.”

“The tragedy that an innocent young woman lost her life?” Wolfe asked coldly. “Or the ‘tragedy’ that someone you consider to be a friend is wanted for questioning over a murder?”

Clark chose not to reply. “She was shot?” he asked, addressing his question to Henderson.

Henderson nodded grimly.

“It looks like a single shot to the back of the head from close range,” Wolfe said, disgust pervading his professional appraisal of the case.

“Do you want my help?” Superman offered. “Do you want me to search the apartment?”

“The forensic team will be here shortly,” Wolfe said. “They will do their job competently. And their work won’t be compromised.”

Accepting that he wasn’t going to be privy to the details of the case against Clark, Superman nodded, paused a moment to pay silent respect to Mayson Drake, and then turned towards the balcony.

“Superman?”

He turned at Wolfe’s voice. “Yes?”

“This is a crime scene. You are required to sign the record, stating you were here.” He gestured towards the uniformed cop standing by the door.

Clark had never been asked to do that before, but it seemed he had lost his status as a trusted associate and had become a possible impediment to procuring justice. That hurt ... and they didn’t even know he was the primary suspect.

He walked slowly up the stairs and scribbled an ‘S’ next to the documentation of his time of arrival and time of departure. Then he floated past the two men and the body.

“If you find Clark, the best thing you can do is to convince him to turn himself in,” Henderson said in a tone that seemed to include a hint of apology.

Wolfe spoke up. “And I’m sure you’re aware of the consequences of harbouring or assisting a person wanted for questioning.”

“Anything else?” Superman said.

“No.”

Clark flew out from the balcony, his mind in turmoil, and his heart squeezed by claws of grief, confusion, and shock.

Where was Lana?

What evidence did the police have? Just that it had happened in his apartment? Or something more?

There had to be more. Even Henderson believed Clark Kent had fired the gun that had brought Mayson Drake’s life to an end.

Had Lana done it? Had she slipped so far that she’d been willing to kill in order to achieve her plans for their life together?

***

The creak of the back door grated loud in the silence, and Martha Kent jolted to a sitting position. “Jonathan,” she hissed. “There’s someone in the house.”

“Uh?” he said sleepily.

“Someone opened the back door.”

“It’s probably Clark.”

“He doesn’t come at this time of the night.”

“Lois is away. He’s lonely.”

Footsteps echoed from the bottom of the stairs. “Mom? Dad?”

Jonathan shot Martha a smile in the mellow arc of moonlight. “See?”

Martha switched on the bedside lamp, stood from the bed, and pulled on her robe. A quiet tap sounded on their door as Jonathan did likewise. “Come on in, Clark,” she said.

The door swung open, and Clark came in, wearing the Superman suit.

“Is everything all right?” Martha asked. Her eyes flitted over her son, her mind processing the slump of his shoulders, the dip of his head, the overall mantle of ... distress ... that clung to him like a dark cloud. “A bad rescue?” she guessed, approaching him.

“What happened, Clark?” Jonathan asked from half a step behind her.

Their son’s head lifted, and he faced them. His eyes carried an expression she couldn’t identify, but it scrawled trepidation across her heart. “Is it Lois?” Martha said.

Clark slowly shook his head. “You’ve heard me mention the deputy DA, Mayson Drake?”

Martha nodded.

“She was murdered tonight.”

“Aw, Clark,” Martha said. “How awful.” And it was, but there had to be more. Clark didn’t come home as Superman every time someone in Metropolis died. “I didn’t realise you knew her so well.”

“She was in my apartment,” he went on bleakly.

“Your apartment?” Martha repeated as foreboding swept through her like an ice-gorged stream. “When was she in your apartment? Today? Earlier?”

“She was killed there,” he said desolately. “Shot to the back of the head. Probably as she was trying to leave.”

“Aw, no, Clark.” Martha rubbed her hand down his arm. Then she recalled his earlier visit. “You said Lana was there.”

“She was,” Clark said. “Now she’s gone.”

Martha met her husband’s eyes, reading his thoughts as distinctly as if he’d spoken aloud. “Do you think Lana did it, son?” Jonathan asked, keeping his question starkly unemotional.

“I don’t know,” Clark said. “The police think it was me.”

“You?” Martha cried.

“You?” Jonathan queried more calmly. “Or Superman?”

“Clark Kent,” their son answered. “He is their primary suspect. He is wanted for questioning. One of the detectives seems sure he ... I ... will be charged.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Martha declared. “It must be a misunderstanding. When you answer their questions, it will become obvious that you didn’t do it.”

“It’s not that simple, Mom,” Clark said. “Mayson was killed in my apartment. Their first question is going to be if I was there. I can’t say I was — I don’t know what happened to Mayson — but if I say I wasn’t there, they’ll ask where I was, and I don’t have an answer for that.”

“When was she killed?” Jonathan asked.

“It has to have been in the last hour. I checked on Lana before coming here earlier.”

“So it could have happened while you were here?” Martha said.

Clark nodded. “But I can’t use that as an alibi. There’s no way to explain how Clark Kent was in Smallville, Kansas.”

“Superman could say he brought Clark here to visit his parents,” Martha suggested as a ray of hope flickered through her fear. “We can honestly verify that. We even have a reason for why you wanted to talk with us — Lana’s claims that you fathered her child.”

“No, I can’t say that,” Clark said. “They already asked me if I’d seen Clark this evening, and I said I hadn’t.”

“You didn’t do this,” Martha said. “There can’t be enough evidence to charge you. You didn’t do it.”

“They already have enough evidence to want to question me,” Clark said dismally.

“What evidence do they have?” Jonathan asked.

“They wouldn’t tell me. But it’s my apartment, and they said no one else was there. And Clark’s disappearance makes him look guilty.”

“But it’s only suspicion,” Martha said. “They won’t be able to prove you did it because you didn’t. There has to be a way to prove that you didn’t do it.”

“I don’t have an alibi,” Clark said desperately. “When Mayson was killed, Clark Kent wasn’t anywhere. I have no way to prove I wasn’t in my apartment.”

“You can tell them Lana was at your apartment,” Martha said quietly.

“If I say that, it just shifts the suspicion from me to her.”

Again, Martha met Jonathan’s eyes. There had been talk among the Smallville locals. Talk about Lana’s unpredictable behaviour since her return from Europe.

Martha put a hand on the spandex stretched across her son’s broad shoulder. “Do you think Lana could have done this?”

“I don’t know what else to think,” he said. “She was there ...”

“Why would she kill the deputy DA?” Jonathan asked. “Did Lana even know Mayson?”

“They met today,” Clark said miserably. “They were both at my apartment.”

The cold fingers of comprehension bored a little deeper into Martha’s heart. “Why was Mayson at your apartment?” she said. “Was it business? Or a personal reason?”

“She had tickets to a show on Friday night. Lana bluntly informed her that I wasn’t interested in dating her. Mayson left, upset. I followed her and tried to apologise, but there was nothing I could say.”

“Because what Lana had said — that you weren’t interested in Mayson — was the truth?” Martha said.

“I liked her,” Clark said, sounding as if he were confessing a personal failing. “But not in that way. I’d been trying to tell her all week.” He blew out a long breath. “If only I had, perhaps she would still be –”

“Don’t think that, Clark,” Martha said. “Don’t say it. You didn’t kill Mayson. This is not your fault.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t pursue it. “What do you think I should you?” he said.

“I think we should consider the options,” Jonathan said.

“I can’t see any,” Clark said disconsolately. “Not good ones.”

“Clark Kent doesn’t have to be found,” Martha reminded him. “Ever.”

“No,” Clark said firmly. “No. That would have terrible repercussions for you. And Lois would think –” His face constricted with another wave of anguish. “Lois would think I had killed someone and run away. I couldn’t stand that.”

“I think the police need to know that when you left your apartment, Lana was there,” Jonathan said in his quiet, considered way.

“If Lana did this, you can’t protect her,” Martha added gently. “And if she didn’t do it, her testimony could be important in getting answers for Mayson’s family.”

“If Lana didn’t do it, why did she run away?” Clark said. Then his cheeks paled, and he sucked in a quick breath. “What if she were taken by the murderer? Because she’s a witness? That is possible. Mayson would have enemies. It’s inevitable in her job. Perhaps someone tracked her to my apartment. Perhaps that person took Lana.”

His gush of speculation ceased, and he looked at his parents, awaiting their reaction. “That’s ... that’s possible,” Martha conceded, unsure how to respond when the choices seemed to be restricted to having murdered or having been kidnapped by a murderer.

“Are you worried that if you bring Lana into this, she will go through with her threat to reveal what she knows about you?” Jonathan said.

“I’m worried they won’t believe anything I say because I won’t be able to be totally truthful. I’m worried it will look like a story I’ve made up to try to shift the blame onto someone else. I’m worried about what Lana will do if the police question her.” Clark released a long breath. “And yes, I’m worried she will blow the secret.”

“Maybe ...” Jonathan’s voice cracked. “Maybe it’s time, son.”

“No,” Clark said firmly. “Because if the world knows that Clark Kent is Superman, you become immediate targets for anyone wanting to control me. Anyone close to me ... Lois ... also becomes a target. The safety of everyone I love depends on Superman being separate from my life.”

“If Lana killed Mayson, I don’t think she will tell the police that Clark Kent is Superman,” Martha said. “If, in fact, she knows.”

“Why not?” Clark said.

“Because if she did, she would be handing you an alibi,” Martha said. “You would be able to prove your whereabouts when Mayson was shot.”

Jonathan spoke up. “If she didn’t do it, she might spill the secret just to give you an alibi. I doubt her baby’s ‘father’ serving a jail term for murder is a part of her grand plan.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to determine what Lana is most likely to do,” Martha said. “She’s never been predictable, and since returning from the European trip ...”

“Maybe you’re going to have to decide what is most important to you,” Jonathan said. “The secret — or Clark Kent’s reputation and freedom.”

A sickening wave tightened the tension in Martha’s stomach. “But you’d do it?” she said. “If it came to a choice between revealing the secret and being charged with a murder you didn’t commit — you’d do it?”

Clark didn’t reply for a long moment. They stood in a triangle, three people who had protected a secret for nearly three decades. In the midst of them, hovering like a palpable presence, was the spectre of a decision they had hoped they would never have to make.

“You could investigate,” Martha said, grappling for alternatives. “As Superman, not Clark. You could try to find out if all they have on Clark is opportunity — that it happened in his apartment.”

Clark considered that for a moment, and then he said, “The homicide detective, Wolfe, is already suspicious of Superman’s association with Clark. I don’t think he trusts Superman. I’m not sure anything Superman says will make a difference.”

The walls of trepidation closed in on them. Martha looked from her husband to her son, hoping to find an inkling of hope, a materialisation of the way forward. There was nothing but the reflection of her own despair.

“What are you going to do, son?” Jonathan asked eventually.

“I don’t think I have any choice but to trust the system,” Clark said, his voice hollow and listless.

Martha’s heart collapsed. “You’re going to give yourself up?” she squeaked.

“I have to,” Clark said. “I can’t hide as Superman. This isn’t going to go away. The longer Clark is missing, the more guilty he appears and the harder it’s going to be to explain why I didn’t give myself up earlier. If I wait for this to hit the papers, some people will decide I am a murderer, even if it can’t be proven.” He straightened his caped shoulders. “I have to face this. I have to go to the police and allow them to ask their questions.”

“Have you decided how you’re going to answer?” Martha said.

“I’ll try to find out exactly what evidence they have that points to Clark being the killer. Then, I’ll try to answer as truthfully as I can without revealing that Clark Kent is Superman.”

“Where will you say you were?” she said.

“I can’t say I was anywhere.”

“Was there a reason why you left her?” Jonathan asked. “Other than wanting to come and talk to us?”

“I heard a cry for help,” Clark replied. “A boy had fallen down a storm drain.”

“You could say you were at that rescue,” Martha suggested. “As Clark Kent. You know details of what happened. That’s proof you were there.”

Clark shook his head. “The more details I give, the more I risk being caught out in a lie. The people there — the mother, the child, the police officers — they saw Superman, but they didn’t see Clark Kent.”

“Are you going to tell the police that Lana was in your apartment?” Jonathan said.

“I don’t want to delay going to the police,” Clark said uncertainly, “but I think I should try to look for her first. If I were able to find her, a lot of things could become clearer.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jonathan said. “She’s the daughter of Ray and Millie — they’ve been our neighbours for years. If she’s in any trouble ...”

“You’re right,” Clark said as a sudden dash of purpose straightened his posture. “If Lana didn’t do this — if she’s been kidnapped, or if she ran off because she was scared — she needs my help. And her evidence will be invaluable in finding the murderer.”

Martha drew her son into her arms and held him for a lingering moment. “We’ll catch the first flight tomorrow morning and be in Metropolis by early afternoon,” she said. “Whatever you decide to do, we’ll be there for you.”

“I ... I can’t fly you there,” he said.

“We don’t expect –”

“If I’m being questioned about a murder, it’s possible someone from the Smallville sheriff’s department will come and talk to you. Your neighbours know you were here tonight. If you’re in Metropolis early tomorrow morning ... If someone checks airline records ... I think we need to be careful about anything that connects Superman with Clark.”

“We’ll drive to Wichita and catch the first plane to Metropolis tomorrow morning,” Jonathan said. “Don’t worry about us.”

Clark studied the floor for a moment. “If ... if you see Lois, could you ... could you tell her ... tell her I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going to talk to her first?” Martha said.

Clark shook his head. “It’s the middle of the night. And anyway, I wouldn’t know what to say to her.”

“You could tell her that you didn’t hurt anyone,” Martha suggested softly.

“I couldn’t stand it if she didn’t believe me,” he said. He ducked to kiss Martha’s cheek, hugged his dad, and was gone with a gush of backdraft.

“He’s going to turn himself in, isn’t he?” Martha asked her husband. “Whether he finds Lana or not, he going to do what he thinks is right?”

Jonathan nodded slowly.

“But he won’t have answers for their questions, and that’s just going to increase their suspicion.”

Jonathan placed a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We should get back to bed,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do for our son now, and if we’re going to catch that plane, we have to be up in a couple of hours.”

***

Clark hovered high above the lights of Metropolis, cursing himself that he hadn’t considered the possibility of Lana needing his help earlier.

He should have looked for her before skulking off to his parents.

He should have forced himself to think rationally.

He focussed his vision on his apartment. Wolfe had gone, Henderson was chatting with the uniformed officer who was now stationed outside his front door, and a team of three male forensic officers were combing through each room, armed with their tools of investigation.

There was no sign of Lana anywhere in the vicinity.

Why had she run away?

Because she had shot Mayson? Because she had been scared by someone else? Or because she had been taken by Mayson’s murderer?

Was she — right now — in danger?

Clark’s super-powered eyes roved over the streets, delving into the dark alleys and shadowed corners. By now, she could be anywhere. She could be inside a building. She could have gone to a hospital. He had no way of checking — not without invading other people’s privacy.

He had to go to the police. He had to tell them Lana was missing. Whatever the ramifications, her safety had to be his first priority.

But the ramifications could be life changing.

What if they wanted to fingerprint him?

To Clark’s knowledge, Superman’s fingerprints were not on the police files. But he’d worked alongside them many times. It wouldn’t have been difficult to lift a print from something he’d touched and keep it as a sort of souvenir.

Mayson had been shot. It seemed probable they would want any suspect to undertake a gunshot residue test. Of course, there would be nothing on his hands or clothes. But how would his Kryptonian physiology respond to the test?

Just like a human? Or different somehow?

And there would be questions.

Questions he couldn’t answer. Time he couldn’t account for. Time when Clark Kent hadn’t actually been anywhere or done anything.

Would he be forced into admitting he was Superman?

If he did, his parents’ lives would change forever.

And Lois ...

How would she react?

Would their friendship — the prize he had bartered for in exchange for denying his love — survive?

It wouldn’t survive if he were charged with Mayson Drake’s murder.

Clark zoomed across the dark city and landed in the alley half a block from the central police station. He checked for possible observers, spun into the clothes he had been wearing earlier, and slipped onto the sidewalk, still without a clear plan.

Half a dozen steps later, a hand grabbed his elbow from behind.

He spun around. “Lana!”

“Sssshhh,” she hissed.

“Are you all right?” She was wearing oversized jeans, a white tee shirt, and his leather jacket. A thick ribbon lay across her hair like a bright pink bridge stretching between her ears. “Where have you b-”

“Shut up and listen,” she growled. “I know you’re just itching to run to the cops and spill everything like a little teacher’s pet, grovelling for a shiny star.”

“Do you know what hap-”

“I knew you’d come,” Lana said. “Don’t you realise they know it was you? If you take one step into the cop station, you’ll go down for murder.”

Clark lightly grasped her shoulders through his leather jacket. “Lana,” he said. “You know I left my apartment.”

“I know nothing.”

“Were you there when Mayson was killed? Do you know who did this?”

Her look dripped with scorn. “Why would I tell you anything?”

“Come with me to the police,” Clark said. “Tell them whatever you know. We’ll get through this together.”

Her laughter rattled with contempt as she shrugged his hands from her body. “Now that everything you care about is being threatened, you want to do ‘together’?” she said. “Too late, Kent. I offered you ‘together’, and you couldn’t scurry away fast enough.”

“Lana, if you did this, there will be evidence. Fingerprints. Forensic –”

“They’re not looking for a woman,” Lana said, running her hand over the pink ribbon. “They’re not looking for anyone — except you. I heard the cop talking to the witness. She said it was you.”

They had a witness? Someone who had named him?

“You still believe in justice, don’t you?” Lana scoffed. “You’re still too naïve to realise that the police aren’t interested in finding out who really did this. They just want a conviction, so they can pat themselves on the back, close the file, and move on.”

“It’s not like that,” Clark insisted. “I know some of the police officers. They –”

“You know some of the cops?” she cried. “And you still think I would be stupid enough to go in there with you?”

Did she know she was discussing this with Superman? Did she think Clark Kent could kill? Did she think Superman could? Did she have any idea of the repercussions if the ‘Clark Kent is Superman’ bombshell exploded right alongside the ‘Clark Kent killed Mayson Drake’ disclosure?

Clark took a breath and changed his tactics. “Did you see who killed Mayson?” he asked gently. “Did the killer threaten you? Is that why you are so worried about going to the police?”

She cackled loudly. “I was young and stupid when I fell for your nice-guy act, Clark,” she said. “So stop wasting my time pretending you’re concerned about me, and –”

“Lana, if they’re looking for me, I can’t hide forever. Eventually, I’ll have to face their questions. They’re going to ask if I was there. When I tell them I had already left, they’re going to ask if anyone else –”

“Are you threatening to squeal on me?”

“I’m saying there will be questions that will make it difficult to leave you out of this.”

“Let me make it easier,” Lana said in a softer, more menacing tone. “I found the picture you had hidden next to your bed. The picture of the brunette. I know her name. Lois Lane. I know she works at the Daily Planet. She’s the one you’re in love with, isn’t she?”

“Lana, I work with Lois. That’s all.”

Derision lifted Lana’s upper lip to a sneer. “You always sucked at lying.”

“I’m not with Lois,” Clark said quickly. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“I figure that if you run to the cops, I’ll have nothing to lose by putting a bullet through Lois Lane’s head.”

“No!” Clark bit off his exclamation and grappled for a path of reason she would accept. “Lana, come with me to the police. Running away –”

She shook her head vehemently. “I’d shoot myself before I would go to the cops,” she said. “I hate being this close to them, but I had to talk to you. I had to –”

“Running away isn’t going to –”

“The police have a witness who says you were there when the blonde was killed,” Lana said. “If you had any street smarts at all, you’d never be seen in Metropolis again. But I knew you’d want to do the honourable thing and tattle to the police about me being in your apartment. That’s why I had to see you. That’s why I came here. To make sure you understood. You squeal, I shoot.” She pointed her finger at him and pulled back, mimicking the firing of a gun. “Dead Lois.”

“Lana,” he said. “Hurting Lois won’t achieve anything.”

“It won’t make any difference to me,” she said lightly. “If you’re going to try to pin the blonde’s murder on me, I might as well take out a pigeon pair. One blonde. One brunette.”

“Don’t,” he begged. “Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

She smirked. “You won’t be able to stop me, Clark. Once you step into the police station, they aren’t going to let you go for a long time. Even if you spin a tale about a long-lost lover having been in your apartment, they won’t believe you. The witness didn’t see any woman except the blonde.”

“La-” His protest died as an anguished cry seized his attention. He focussed on the police radio, the tone of the voices instantly alerting him to an emergency. He listened, gathering details.

There had been a collapse in one of subway tunnels. A train was buried under the rubble. Hundreds of late-night travellers had been entombed. Their rescue would take hours of precarious excavation, and during that time, injured people would suffer. Some would die.

Clark Kent needed to walk into the police station and face his accusers regarding Mayson Drake’s murder.

He needed to protect Lois from Lana’s deranged threats.

He needed to make Lana see reason.

But Superman was needed by hundreds of people.

Clark stood, utterly torn.

Without his help, people would die.

But while he was helping them, the case against Clark would gather momentum.

And Lana would ... He really wasn’t sure what Lana would do. But he couldn’t risk her hurting Lois. “Give me the gun,” he demanded in Superman’s voice of steel.

It took her a moment to recover from her surprise. “You think I’d give you anything?” she sneered. “Even if I had a gun?”

The cries rose from the tunnel, urgent and congested with terror. “Superman! Please help us, Superman!”

He had to go.

He had to answer their call.

Clark x-rayed through the leather jacket and saw a revolver loaded with three bullets tucked into the jeans near Lana’s hip. With a movement that was superfast and supremely deft, he reached into the jacket and took the gun. He turned away and sprinted towards the alley.

Lana’s snicker of contempt chased him. “I always knew that under that thin layer of perfection lurked a pathetic coward.”

Clark kept running. He was Superman. And people needed him.

Part 4

The tinny music of a cell phone loosened the chains of sleep. The follow-up shrill of the home phone shattered the remaining vestiges of slumber and dragged Lois to full wakefulness. She rubbed her eyes as she checked the time. It was just after twelve-thirty.

It had better be Perry.

Or Clark.

No one else would dare call her on both phones at this hour.

Unless it was her mother’s rehab centre. She lunged to pick up her cell phone. “Lois Lane.”

“Lois. Are you home?”

Perry’s voice brought relief. It was just a story. Nothing that directly involved her. Lois pushed back the covers of her bed and sat up. “Yes, Chief. What’s happened?”

“A section of the subway tunnel has collapsed. Between Northwood station and Upper Triholm. The rescue teams are congregating at Northwood.”

“Is Superman there?” Lois asked as she tucked her phone between her chin and her shoulder and began dragging indiscriminate clothes from her closet.

“Yes.”

“Have you called Clark?”

“I’ll do that next. Where should I tell him to meet you?”

“His apartment’s on the way. Tell him to wait there and we’ll go together.”

“OK.” Perry paused. “Oh, and Lois, welcome home. It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

Lois tossed her phone onto the bed and hastily stripped off her pyjamas, replacing them with multiple layers of warm clothes. She splashed water on her face, patted it dry, applied the barest essentials of makeup, and ran a comb through her hair, grateful she had decided to wash it last night.

Her cell phone rang again as she opened her apartment door. She dug it out of her bag. “Perry?” she said. “I’m leaving now.”

“I haven’t been able to contact Clark,” he said. “His phone is busy.”

“Perhaps he is trying to call you,” Lois said, impatient to finish the call and begin the business of getting the story.

“I tried his cell phone, too, but it’s turned off. You can go straight to Northwood if you want to. Clark might be there already.”

“No,” Lois said. “I called him last night and couldn’t get through. Perhaps there’s a problem with his line. I’ll wake him, and we’ll go together.”

“OK,” Perry said. “Keep in touch.”

***

A small crowd of people had congregated outside Clark’s apartment.

As Lois drew closer, she saw a police officer in their midst.

“Have you found the murderer?” an older man asked. “If he’s still at large, shouldn’t you be doing something to protect the citizens?”

“That is why I have suggested you return to your homes,” the officer said in a tone that indicated his supply of patience was running critically low.

“So it’s true?” a young woman from the fringes of the crowd squeaked. “Someone was killed here?”

Lois’s eyes darted from the crowd to the window next to Clark’s door. A light was on in his apartment. He must have been awakened by the commotion following the murder or whatever had brought these people from their homes in the middle of the night.

She took her cell phone from her bag, intending to call Perry and alert him to the possibility of another story. As she bypassed the crowd on the way to Clark’s door, the police officer stopped her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “You can’t go in there.”

“But my friend lives here,” she said, pausing from punching in Perry’s number.

“No one can go in there. It’s a crime scene.”

Clark’s apartment? A crime scene? The murder had happened here?

Icy dread froze the blood in her veins.

Clark would be OK. He had to be OK.

“Who ... who was the victim?” Lois asked.

“I’m not allowed to discuss the case with members of the public.”

“I’m not the public,” Lois said, seizing her press badge from her bag. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet.” She heard a collective indrawn breath from crowd, but ignored it.

“The details will be released later today,” the officer said. “There will be a press conference.”

She eyed the police officer speculatively and decided he was probably young enough and agile enough that a sudden dash to Clark’s door wasn’t going to be successful.

But there was no way she was leaving without knowing Clark was all right. And she figured her best chance was to play the cool reporter chasing a story.

“Who’s in there?” Lois said with a nod into Clark’s apartment.

“I said there will be a press conference later,” the officer replied.

“Inspector Henderson?” Lois asked, grasping his name in the desperate hope it would give her some needed credibility. “Could you tell him Lois Lane is here and would like to speak with him? Please?”

With a sigh, the officer opened the door and slipped inside, closing it before Lois could manage to snatch a glimpse of what was happening in there.

The little group was staring at her. Lois turned away from them.

Fear had seized her heart, squeezing and constricting.

Clark. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. He was her best friend. He was ...

He was Clark.

The door opened, and Henderson stood in the doorway. His face was taut, moulded to the mask of detached professionalism he had developed over many years of dealing with awful situations.

“Cl-” Lois whimpered.

The police officer came through the door, and Henderson gestured for Lois to follow him inside.

Lois stepped into the apartment, her eyes darting around, searching for Clark’s face, needing his familiar, comforting presence in this storm of uncertainty.

She saw only men she didn’t recognise — probably the forensic team — writing notes, making measurements, taking photographs, collecting fingerprints, collating evidence.

Evidence for what?

Lois stretched onto her tiptoes, trying to see past Henderson. He shuffled sideways, blocking her view.

“What happened?” Lois said. “Is Clark –”

The mask slipped to reveal a more human version of the crusty old cop. “Lois,” he said.

Her anxiety whipped through her scant supplies of patience, and she grabbed fistfuls of the lapels of his jacket. “Is it Clark?”

Henderson calmly took hold of her arms. “No,” he said. “It’s not Clark.”

Her hands dropped, but relief was short-lived. “His parents?” she gasped. “Are they here?”

“No,” Henderson said. “It’s Mayson Drake.”

Mayson? “She’s ... she’s ... dead?” Lois leaned to her side and saw the lifeless body crumpled at the foot of the stairs.

Henderson moved into her vision. “I assume you knew her?”

“Only in her capacity as the deputy DA,” Lois said as the sharp edges of her fear began to recede slightly, allowing the flow of her thoughts to begin again. “We weren’t really friends.” She looked around, half expecting Clark to appear. “Why was she here? Was Clark working on a story?”

“Do you know Clark’s whereabouts?” Henderson asked.

“No. Perry’s been trying to contact him. We’re going to cover the subway collapse.”

“When was the last time you had any contact with Clark?”

“I’ve been away for a week,” Lois said. “I had to deal with some family business.”

“You haven’t had any contact with Clark today? No phone calls? Nothing?”

“No,” Lois said, wondering why Henderson was belabouring this point.

“And you don’t know where he is now?”

“No,” Lois said. “I came to get him. But as he’s not here, I expect he heard about the collapse and has gone already.” She turned away. “I have to go. I’m really sorry about Mayson, but I need to get to Northwood.”

Henderson stopped her with a hand to her elbow. “Lois,” he said. “I don’t think you understand. Clark is missing.”

“He can’t be missing,” Lois said. “Perry didn’t say anything about him missing. Clark must have been at the Planet today.”

“He’s been missing since Mayson was killed.”

Comprehension splattered debris through her brain. “Clark?” she gasped. “You think ... you think he did this? He’s a suspect?”

Henderson’s eyes dropped to the floor, but he nodded his admission. “Detective Wolfe is running this investigation. He wants to talk to Clark.”

“Clark didn’t do it,” Lois stated.

“Lois ...” Henderson stalled. “You know I wouldn’t ... not without evidence. But the case looks pretty straightforward.”

“Not if you think Clark did it,” Lois said. “You’re missing something.”

“He was the only one here, Lois. Two people. One is shot dead.”

“He didn’t do it.”

“We’ve already established it wasn’t suicide. Someone else was involved.”

“OK,” Lois conceded. “But it wasn’t Clark.”

Henderson’s eyebrows dipped together. “How can you be sure? What do you know? If you know anything –”

“I told you I haven’t seen him for almost a week,” Lois said. “But I know Clark.” She shot Henderson an accusing look. “I thought you knew him, too.”

“Lois.” He released a gush of breath. “Lois, I’ve been on this job long enough that nothing surprises me anymore. People you think you know ...”

Her shock erupted into indignation. “I don’t think I know Clark,” she said, her voice rising. “I know him. I know he wasn’t here. If he had been here, he would have called an ambulance. He would have stayed with Mayson. Even if he hadn’t been able to do anything to help her, he would have still been here when the police arrived. And now, he would be helping you find whoever did this.”

“Shock can make people do things they wouldn’t normally do.”

Perhaps that was true, because right now, Lois was battling the compulsion to take Henderson’s thin shoulders and shake some sense into him. “He was probably out for the evening — playing poker with Jimmy or something like that,” she said as she took out her phone and dialled Clark’s cell number. “We’ll have this sorted in less than a minute.”

“He doesn’t have –” Henderson’s words were chopped off by the sound of a phone, coming from a few yards behind him. “Clark’s cell phone is here,” he said. “We found it a couple of minutes ago and turned it on.”

Lois flung her phone into her bag. “There’s no law that says you have to carry your phone with you,” she said.

“Wolfe has put out Clark’s description to the patrol cars,” Henderson said. “I’ve been able to keep it quiet so far — being the middle of the night — but if we haven’t found him by daylight, Wolfe is going to insist that he be officially listed as a wanted person.”

That news, combined with Henderson’s sombre manner, reared up, mounting a challenge to her convictions about Clark. Lois ferociously quashed it. Clark hadn’t hurt Mayson, and he hadn’t run away. Short of an admission from Clark himself, she would never believe that of him.

“What do you have?” she asked coldly.

“A witness. A witness saying she saw Clark run away a few minutes after she heard the shot.”

“Mistaken identity,” Lois said, shrugging. “Or someone trying to frame Clark.”

“The witness is also willing to testify she heard an argument between Mayson and Clark.”

“I’ve had arguments with Clark,” Lois retorted. “Lots of them. But he’s never shot me.”

Henderson inched closer. “I didn’t want to believe it either, Lois,” he said in a lowered voice. “But the evidence is compelling. And his disappearance isn’t helping his cause.”

“Then I’ll find him,” Lois said, infusing her declaration with a lofty air of certainty. “I’ll find him and bring him to the station so he can clear his name and you can stop wasting your time and begin looking for the real murderer.”

Henderson’s hand clasped her arm again. “We haven’t found the weapon.”

Lois wrenched her arm away. “Now you think Clark would hurt me?” she cried.

“I’m just telling you to be careful.”

Lois shook her head, beyond speechless.

“The best thing you can do for Clark is to convince him to go to the police station,” Henderson said.

Lois turned away, opened the door, and strode outside into the cold night air. Once she was out of earshot of the group still pestering the cop, she pulled out her cell phone and dialled Perry’s desk.

“Perry White.”

“Perry, it’s Lois.”

“What’s happening? Has Superman reached them yet? Have they managed to shore up the tunnel? Any further movement? Do we have a death toll?”

“What?”

“The tunnel collapse. What do you and Clark have?”

“Oh. That.” Lois looked around her, and finding no one nearby, she paused next to the looming wall of an apartment block. “Have you heard about Mayson Drake?”

“Mayson?” Perry’s surprise pulsed through her cell phone. “What does she have to do with this?”

“She was killed.”

“She was in the train?” Perry exclaimed.

“No. No. She was shot. Murdered.”

She heard Perry haul in a long breath. “Mayson was killed?” he asked. “Mayson Drake? The deputy DA?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know who did it? How was she killed? Is it linked with one of her cases?”

“Perry,” Lois said, losing all patience with the extraneous detail. “She was at Clark’s apartment. The police think he did it.”

The silence pulsated with shock. “Clark?” Perry muttered. “What does he say about it?”

“He isn’t here. They’re looking for him.”

“What evidence do they have? Did you speak to Henderson? Or Wolfe? Or some rookie who wouldn’t know a victim from a perpetrator?”

“I spoke to Henderson. They have a witness who places Clark in his apartment at the time the shot was fired and running away a few minutes later.”

“But Clark wouldn’t run away.”

“That’s exactly what I told Henderson,” Lois said. “And he wouldn’t shoot anyone, either. I’m going to find him, Chief. We need to get this sorted out before someone from the Star gets a whiff of it.”

“What about the story?”

“The story?” Her mind shuffled back. “Oh, the subway collapse. Send Ralph.”

“Ralph?” Perry fired back in disgust.

“Or that new guy. Or Jimmy.”

“I’ve already called Jimmy. Lois, this is going to be huge.”

“Probably,” Lois said. “But I’m not writing a single word about anything until I have proved that Clark did not kill anyone.”

“Lois,” Perry said sternly. “When you find Clark, you need to take him to the police station. Don’t go running off by yourselves, trying to find the murderer.”

“Perhaps he’s out there now, trying to find Mayson’s killer. Perhaps the witness looked away and didn’t see the killer leave. Or perhaps Clark doesn’t know she’s dead. Perhaps he wasn’t home. Perhaps –” Lois stopped abruptly. She was starting to sound as if she were desperate for excuses.

She didn’t need an array of excuses.

There was a logical explanation for this.

And she would find it. “You’ll call me if Clark comes to the Planet?” she said.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, Lois,” Perry said. “The DA’s department is going to want justice for one of their own.”

“I want justice, too,” Lois said. “For both Mayson and Clark.”

***

Lois’s impatient banging on Jimmy’s door echoed through the silent apartment building. “Jimmy!” she called. “Are you there?”

When there was no response, she took out her kit and picked the lock. She entered, closed the door behind her, and switched on the light.

It was a mess.

And the air was rank with something that should have been put in the trash a week ago.

“Jimmy? Are you here? It’s Lois.” There was no sound or movement. She hurried into his bedroom. The bed was an empty swirl of blankets and sheets. “Jimmy?”

Lois quickly checked every room in the small apartment. No one was here. Then she retraced her steps, searching for any sign that Clark had been here — his watch, or a tie she recognised, or anything she knew that belonged to him.

There was nothing.

She switched out the lights, locked the door, and went onto the street, hailing the first cab she saw.

Ten minutes later, she was back at her own apartment. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, she sprinted up the steps and arrived, puffing, at her floor. She swung into the corridor.

Clark wasn’t there.

Lois knew he wouldn’t break into her apartment, but she unlocked the door and checked anyway. Everything was exactly as she had left it. She searched the floor near the entrance, just in case he’d pushed a note under the door.

Nothing.

Where was Clark?

Where would he go?

Lois scribbled a note on a scrap piece of paper. Call me, it’s important, Lois. She folded the paper in half and wrote Clark on the front. She slipped it under her door, making sure a portion of the corner of the paper was visible from the corridor. After locking her door, she jogged back to the stairwell.

Her body felt coiled and eager to rush into action, but her mind was providing no direction.

Where was Clark?

Did he know about Mayson?

Had he been there when she had been shot?

Or had he been sleeping somewhere, oblivious to the events that had led to the bizarre conclusion being bandied around by Henderson and Wolfe?

Why had Mayson been at Clark’s apartment?

Lois stepped out of her apartment building and automatically gestured to a passing cab.

It stopped. She got in.

Had Mayson spent a lot of time with Clark recently? Lois had sensed that Mayson had been interested in Clark from the first moment the new deputy DA had come to the Planet and introduced herself. Giving him her home number was hardly a subtle gesture.

Had Clark fallen in love with Mayson?

Had he run away because of his grief at her passing?

Because of his remorse for having been unable to protect the woman he loved?

“Where to?”

Lois jumped at the question from the driver. “Ah ... Centennial Park.”

He turned around, and the cab lurched forward.

Where would Clark go? If he were shocked and hurting, where would he go?

They had agreed they were friends. Best friends. But Clark hadn’t confided in her about his feelings for another woman.

Who were his other friends?

Shame rose like a pointed finger as Lois realised how little she knew of Clark’s life outside of their work at the Daily Planet. She’d had a glimpse of his past when he’d taken her to Smallville last year. She knew he was the only child of wonderfully supportive parents, but really, she knew very little else about the circumstances of his life.

Had he tried to contact his parents? Did they know a woman had been murdered in their son’s apartment?

It was nearly half past one — far too late to call Martha and Jonathan. But if their son were in trouble, Lois knew they would want to know.

She didn’t know their number. She’d never needed to know it.

The cab stopped. Lois paid and got out.

Centennial Park.

Why had she directed the cab driver to bring her here?

Because this was a place she strongly associated with Clark.

It was here he had told her he was in love with her.

Here, she had told him she loved him — but only as a friend.

Here, she had witnessed the depths of pain her rejection had caused him.

Oh, he had scrambled to cover it, but not before his anguish had been etched into her mind forever.

Lois wandered over to the park bench and sat down with a long sigh.

Weeks later, he had said he had been lying. He’d said it had been a desperate attempt to stop her from marrying Luthor.

But his confession had lacked the heartfelt sincerity of his declaration of love.

Perhaps his feelings had changed by then. Perhaps he had felt it would be easier for her if he said he’d never been in love with her, rather than admit to having fallen out of love with her.

If that had been the case, who could blame him?

After spurning Clark, she had agreed to marry Luthor.

Luthor.

A lying, coldblooded, manipulative criminal who had never been one tenth of the person Clark was.

Clark must have realised that if she could love Luthor, she could never love him.

The two men were so vastly different.

One self-centred. One selfless.

One arrogant. One humble.

One frightening in his ruthlessness. One frustrating in his unwillingness to bend the rules.

But, as much as Lois had disparaged the Clark Kent Moral Compass, she had come to accept it. Appreciate it, even.

Not that she’d ever told him that.

It made sense that Clark had responded to Mayson’s obvious attraction. Why wouldn’t he?

And, being Clark, he hadn’t wanted to flaunt his new relationship in front of his partner.

Now Mayson was dead.

“Oh, Clark,” Lois mumbled. If he knew, he must be hurting so much. Perhaps they had had a date planned. Perhaps their details had gotten confused. Perhaps he’d waited for her at a restaurant, but she’d come to his apartment. Perhaps, right now, he was combing the city, desperately searching for her.

But whatever had happened between Mayson and Clark, whatever had led to Mayson lying dead on Clark’s stairs, Lois knew one thing.

Clark had not killed her.

Whatever Mayson had done, she could not have hurt Clark as much as Lois had on this park bench.

She could not have aggravated him as much as Lois’s stubborn insistence that everything be done her way.

She could not have insulted him as much as Lois had in the early days when she had dismissed him as a country hack.

Lois knew from experience — when you hurt Clark Kent, he didn’t hurt back. Oh, he might prod a little, he might retaliate with a little line in self-defence, but he never resorted to nastiness.

When she had put their friendship to its greatest test — getting to the top of the aisle to make marriage vows to Luthor — Clark hadn’t faltered.

Afterwards, she’d needed a friend — and her best friend had been right there for her, offering comfort. His unconditional support.

And ...

His love.

He’d still loved her then. As she walked down the aisle to marry Lex Luthor, Clark Kent had loved her.

She’d been too blind to see it.

No. Not blind.

Scared.

She’d opened the door to peek at what love would be like with Clark Kent.

And it had petrified her.

It had been so pure.

So intense.

So eternal.

Instead of being brave enough to fling the door wide open, she’d slammed it shut and run away to the supposed safety of a life with Luthor.

Whom she hadn’t loved.

And — even if his secrets hadn’t come out — could never have loved.

But, he’d been safe.

He couldn’t hurt her.

Discovering his true character hadn’t brought a sense of betrayal — only acute embarrassment at her own stupidity.

But, Clark ...

Clark could hurt her.

Clark could destroy her.

Because she loved him.

Lois jumped up from the seat.

Clark had been there for her more times than she could count. Now, it was her turn to be there for him.

And for that, she needed to know the details of the case against him.

So she could dismantle and disprove it. Piece by piece.

Until everyone knew rationally what she had known instinctively.

That Clark Kent was not a killer.

Part 5

The police officer was still guarding Clark’s door, but the crowd had dwindled to a couple of middle-aged women, standing off to the side and sipping from steaming cups.

Lois approached the cop with purposeful strides. “I need to see Inspector Henderson.”

“He left.”

The light was still on in Clark’s apartment. “Who’s in there?”

The cop’s heaved-out breath crackled with annoyance, but he said, “The forensic team is still working.”

“Henderson told me it was a clear-cut case,” Lois said casually. “Wonder what’s taking them so long.”

“Every crime scene has to be processed with scrupulous care,” he said, sounding as if he were quoting from a manual.

“I figure you’ll be glad when they finally finish,” Lois said, hoping her comment sounded enough like sympathy to conceal that her true motive was a quest for more information. “You must be tired of standing out here in the cold.”

“I will be here –” He stopped abruptly as if remembering that he shouldn’t be chatting to anyone. However, that truncated sentence was enough to confirm Lois’s assumption that Clark’s apartment would be guarded all night in case he should return home.

Unfortunately, unless the cop was open to a bribe, getting access to the crime scene was going to be difficult.

“Has Henderson gone back to the police station?” Lois asked, keeping up the conversation while she mentally rummaged around Clark’s apartment for another way in. There was the balcony, but unless you were Superman or skilled in abseiling, that wasn’t a viable entrance or exit.

“I think he went home,” the cop said, perhaps deciding it was permissible to alleviate his boredom if the information didn’t relate directly to the case.

“Any idea when the forensic guys are expected to finish?”

“Another hour at least,” he said.

“You’re going to be frozen by then,” Lois noted.

He shot her a look that clearly said she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

“Do you get backup?” Lois said. “Surely they can’t expect you to stay here alone all night.”

“Our resources are stretched to breaking point,” he said. “Everyone available is at the tunnel collapse.”

“Is that still happening?” Lois asked, reflecting on how long it had been since a big story had unfolded in Metropolis without her being right in the thick of it.

“Yeah.”

“I thought Superman was there.”

“He is. But even he can’t save hundreds at once. He could crash his way in, but if he did that, when he got to the front of the train, he’ll only be rescuing bodies.”

“People are still alive? And trapped?”

“Yeah. Lots of them. It’s going to be a long night for everyone.”

A long night when the team of Lane and Kent should be there, getting the story. Working together. “Bye,” Lois said, turning away from the cop and wondering if, after a couple more hours of cold monotony, he might be willing to swap a cup of hot coffee for ten minutes in Clark’s apartment.

She caught a cab to the police station.

It was uncharacteristically quiet, even considering the late hour.

Lois marched up to the counter. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Could I speak with Inspector Henderson, please?” she asked the young woman.

“I’m sorry. Inspector Henderson is off-duty.”

“He wasn’t off-duty an hour ago. I was talking to him then. I have further information about a case he’s working on.”

The woman paused for a moment. “I’ll see if he’s still here,” she said, implicitly admitting that he was. A few moments later, she returned the phone and said to Lois, “The inspector will see you in Interview Room 18. It’s along the –”

“I know where it is,” Lois said. “Thank you very much.”

Her eagerness for answers swept her to Room 18, but when she got there, it was empty. She sat in the chair and slumped on the table, letting out a long breath as the torrents of exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her.

Clark was out there somewhere, and each passing minute made her more inclined to believe he was unaware of what had happened to Mayson.

The news was going to shock him. And, being Clark, he was going to feel some responsibility because it had happened in his apartment.

The room was pleasantly warm. Soothingly quiet. Lois closed her eyes.

During the week spent with her mother, she’d yearned for her normal routine.

Working at the Planet. The thrill of chasing stories. The satisfaction of bringing home exclusives. The fulfilment of front-page headlines carrying her by-line.

And Clark.

She loved him.

She had probably loved him that day in Centennial Park, but she — the brave and intrepid reporter — had taken the safe route. The cowardly route.

But now ...

Now, she just needed to find him.

Where was he?

What did he know?

What had happened between him and Mayson?

What ...

***

The sound of the door startled Lois from her thoughts, and she jumped as Henderson slid into the chair on the other side of the table. “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he said. “It’s been one of those nights.”

He looked weary. His face was drawn, and his eyes rimmed with red. “Thanks for seeing me,” Lois said.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You have ten minutes,” he said dryly. “And I’m only giving you that because I can sit down.”

A glance to the wall clock told her over half an hour had passed since she’d come into the room. She must have dozed off.

“You said you have information for me,” Henderson continued.

“I lied,” Lois said, figuring neither of them had the time or the patience for quibbling. “But I need to know exactly what evidence you have against Clark.”

Henderson didn’t look particularly surprised by her admission. “I can’t give the details of the case to a member of the press.”

“I’m not here as a member of the press,” she said. “I’m here as Clark’s friend.”

“I figured that,” Henderson said. “Otherwise, I’d be in a cab now and on my way home.”

“But you believe he did it?” Lois had tried to make her question sound like an accusation, but it came out sounding pathetically hopeful that there had been some new development.

“The forensic team is almost finished,” Henderson said, “but they’ve found nothing that changes our assessment of the case.”

“That Clark shot Mayson?”

Henderson nodded grimly.

Her protest leapt to her lips, but Lois swallowed it down. There was nothing to be gained from declaring Clark’s innocence again. “What do you have?”

“A witness. And several eyewitness statements that support the main witness.”

“Who’s the witness?”

Henderson paused. “Do I need to remind you this is off the record?”

“No,” Lois scoffed. “I’m here to protect Clark, not to get a story. I’ll be doing everything I can to keep this out of the papers.”

“The witness is Mrs McCreadie, Clark’s neighbour.”

“What did she see?”

“It seems Mrs McCreadie’s life centres around her cat and watching over her neighbourhood.”

“Go on.”

“Her cat was sick. Therefore, she was up late. The cat was in a basket near the window. Mrs McCreadie saw it all.”

“Saw what?” Lois asked, aghast. “Is she saying she actually saw Clark shoot Mayson?”

“No. She –”

“Then it’s circumstantial.”

Henderson reached behind him for two clean coffee cups and two sachets of sugar. He positioned the coffee cups on the table between them. “This is Clark’s apartment,” he said. He pointed to the handle of the cup. “And this is his front door.”

Lois nodded.

“This is Mrs McCreadie’s apartment.” He positioned the handle of second cup perpendicular to the first. “This is her second floor window. It overlooks Clark’s door.”

Lois had never noticed the proximity of the window or that it provided such a perfect opportunity to monitor the comings and goings of Clark’s apartment.

“We checked out the sick-cat story with the vet,” Henderson said. “He confirms that Mrs McCreadie left his surgery about nine-thirty. She met Clark at his front door just before ten.”

It was strangely comforting to know Clark’s whereabouts less than four and a half hours ago. A lot had happened since then, but it seemed like the first real connection Lois had had with him in a week. “Was Clark leaving?” she asked. “Or coming home?”

“Coming home. He said he’d worked late. Mrs McCreadie had noticed a blonde woman visiting him regularly, so she made a light comment about him possibly expecting company.”

“Mayson?” Lois said, trying to keep the tumult of her emotions from encroaching into her question.

“Yes. We showed Mrs McCreadie a photo of Mayson, and she positively identified her as the woman who has been visiting Clark.”

“What did Clark say about expecting company?” Lois asked.

“Mrs McCreadie said he was noncommittal. He didn’t say he was expecting her.”

“Perhaps he wasn’t too happy to discover she had been spying on him.”

“Maybe. They talked for a short time — mostly about her sick cat. Then they parted ways — Mrs McCreadie to her apartment, Clark to his.” Henderson put one of the sugar sachets in the cup representing Clark’s apartment.

“When did Mayson arrive?”

“About ten minutes later.”

“She went into Clark’s apartment?”

“Yes.” The second sachet went into the cup. “But the door was left open.”

“Open?”

“From her vantage point, the witness couldn’t see into the apartment, but she could see the splash of light outside, indicating the door was open.”

Lois nodded, not sure how that was relevant.

“It was probably because of the open door that she was able to hear some of the interaction between Mayson and Clark,” Henderson said.

“Interaction?”

“She heard screaming. A woman screaming.”

“Screaming in fear? Anger?”

“Anger, she thought.”

“Did she hear anyone respond?”

“No.”

“Did she hear anything specific? Words?”

Henderson fidgeted with the sugar sachets. “She only heard one line clearly.”

“And that was?”

“She heard Mayson scream, ‘You cheated on me, Clark.’”

Lois shook her head. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”

“We don’t know that he did,” Henderson said. “But the fact that Mayson accused him of it gives us a possible motive.”

“What motive?” Lois said scornfully.

Henderson sighed. “I know Clark, too,” he said. “I know he always seemed to be an honest, straight-up guy.”

“Now you think he’s a cheat and a murderer,” Lois said.

“All I’m saying it that this wouldn’t be the first time someone who lives very honourably has panicked when faced with the possibility of a tarnished reputation.”

Lois snorted. “Does that really sound like Clark Kent to you?”

“No,” Henderson admitted. “But I have to keep coming back to the concrete evidence.” His gaze dwelt on the cup. “Two people in one room. One is shot, the other runs away.”

“What else did the witness say?”

“Five or six minutes after she arrived, Mayson left Clark’s apartment.” Henderson took one sachet from the cup and held it a couple of inches from the cups. “She was moving quickly and appeared upset. Clark followed her, caught up to her, and they had a quick conversation. Clark reached out for her, but she swung at his hand and then ran away. He walked back to his apartment and shut the door.” The sachet demonstration copied his words — one back in the cup, one tucked into Henderson’s hand.

“So we know Mayson was with Clark, and she was alive when she left?” Lois said.

“That time, yes.”

“She came back?”

“A bit over half an hour later, Mayson returned.”

“Why would she come back?”

“There was a baking pan on the stairs. Mayson’s sister has already identified as being a Christmas present from their grandmother. Our best guess is that Mayson realised it was over with Clark, so she went back to get the pan.”

“Did she go into his apartment?” Lois asked.

“Yes. She strode up to Clark’s door, the door opened, and she went in.” Henderson put the second sachet in the cup. “Within a couple of minutes, a shot was fired. Mrs McCreadie said it was about ten-fifty, and the early forensic investigations don’t disagree.” Henderson stared at the cup and muttered, “Two people. One shot.” He angrily flung one sachet across the table and crumpled the other in his hand. “It’s such a mess.”

Lois agreed, but she had too many questions to dwell on that now. “How can the witness be sure Clark didn’t leave his apartment in that half an hour between Mayson’s visits?”

Henderson pulled himself away from where he’d been glaring at the cups. “After hearing the shot, Mrs McCreadie watched the area below, not moving from the window,” he said listlessly. “Less than five minutes later, Clark emerged from the door. Initially, Mrs McCreadie believed someone — probably the blonde woman — had fired at Clark and he was making an escape. She called 911, and she swears she didn’t take her eyes from the door until the police arrived.”

“She didn’t see anyone else leave?”

“No. She is positive that no one did. She was very worried about the safety of the police in entering the apartment.” Henderson met her eyes. “I was with Wolfe. There was no one in that apartment, Lois. Only Mayson.”

“She was already dead?”

“Yeah. Single shot to the back of the head.”

“She was on the stairs,” Lois said, remembering her glimpse of the body.

“Yes. From the way she fell, it seems most likely she was heading for the door.”

Lois said nothing as she reviewed Henderson’s story. Given the facts as presented, it wasn’t difficult to see how he — and Wolfe — had concluded that Clark had to be guilty.

But she couldn’t accept it.

Clark wouldn’t shoot anyone.

“You said you have other statements?” Lois asked.

“Yeah. The shot caused a few people to look out of their windows. Three others say they saw a figure running away from the apartment.”

“A figure?” Lois said quickly. “Did anyone identify Clark?”

“Mrs McCreadie did. She is sure it was him.”

“And the others?”

“One wouldn’t attempt any identification. When pressed, one said it could have been Clark. The other one said she didn’t know his name, but she thought it was the man who lives in the apartment at the end.”

“Mayson died just before eleven o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“So it was dark. It could have been someone else –”

“That area is quite well lit at night.”

“The witness is absolutely sure it was Clark?” Lois said.

“Yes. She is.”

“He wouldn’t run away. It wasn’t him.”

“Then do you have an explanation for how Clark got out of the apartment? He was there earlier. He was seen going into his apartment after the confrontation with Mayson. He wasn’t there when I arrived with Wolfe.”

“Has the forensic team finished?” Lois asked.

“Yes. Fifteen minutes ago.”

“And Mayson ... Mayson has been taken away?”

“Yes.”

But the cop would still be on guard in case Clark returned to his home. “I want to go into Clark’s apartment,” Lois said. “I’ve been there many times. I’ll know if something is different. I might notice something the forensic team didn’t realise is significant.”

“You can’t –”

“OK.”

“Lo-is.” Henderson’s tone said he hadn’t been fooled by her quick compliance. “Please leave it for tonight. If you go there by yourself and you do find something the forensic guys missed, you won’t have any way of proving you didn’t tamper with evidence to try to shift the suspicion from Clark.”

“I will if you come with me.”

Henderson didn’t seem at all surprised by her suggestion. “I will,” he said. “But not tonight.”

“Bill!” Lois cried. “The entire Metropolis PD has decided that Clark Kent is a killer. He’s out there somewhere, and –”

“Lois, it’s late. I’ve been on duty since seven o’clock this morning. I start again in just over four hours. Part of our city collapsed on top of hundreds of our citizens, and someone from the DA’s department has been found dead in the apartment of a prominent reporter. Tomorrow –”

“By then, Clark will probably have been charged, convicted, and sentenced.”

“I’ll meet you at Clark’s apartment at six-thirty, tomorrow morning,” Henderson said. “We’ll look through it together. Then, if you find anything, I can verify it.”

“But you don’t think we’ll find anything, do you?”

Henderson dejectedly shook his head. “I don’t know what happened between Clark and Mayson, but I can’t see any alternative to Clark having shot her. I wish I could.”

“No,” Lois said. “Clark wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. I’m sure of it.”

“We can never be sure of how someone else will react under pressure, Lois,” Henderson said. “If this job has taught me only one thing, it’s that.”

“Well, I haven’t learned that lesson yet,” Lois said. “And I’m going to prove that Clark didn’t kill Mayson.”

Henderson slowly rose to his feet, exhaustion and despair shrouding him like a heavy cloak. “Promise me you won’t go to Clark’s apartment tonight,” he said.

“Is the cop going to be there all night?”

“Yes. And I’ve already told him that if he lets anyone in — particularly you — he won’t get even a sniff of a promotion for ten years.”

Lois was smart enough to know when she’d been outmanoeuvred. “Six-thirty?” she said.

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

“And if anything happens before then, you’ll call me?”

“Yes.”

Lois stood, too. “He didn’t do it, Bill,” she said. “Clark couldn’t shoot anyone.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?” Henderson said. “Because the longer he is missing, the worse it looks for him.”

“I looked for him,” Lois said, “but I couldn’t find him.”

“He didn’t come to you? Your apartment?”

“No. I went back and checked.” A sudden thought exploded in her mind. “He’s not at Northwood, is he? Doing his job?”

“No,” Henderson said. “Every cop there is looking out for him.” He opened the door of the interview room, and they walked out together. “Want to share a cab home?”

“Are you worried I’ll try to get into Clark’s apartment?”

“Yes,” he said. “And that is only going to make things worse for Clark.”

Henderson had been more candid that she had any right to expect. And although he believed Clark had fired the shot that had killed Mayson, he was trying to get the best outcome for Clark. Lois nodded. “I won’t try to get into Clark’s apartment until tomorrow morning,” she promised.

“I’ll be there.”

They walked out of the police station and waited for a cab in the cold night air.

***

Lois paced up and down her living room.

Everything within her protested about being here. Her city was embroiled in a life and death battle, victims were trapped, Superman was heading up a massive rescue effort.

Every reporter in the city of Metropolis would be there.

Except for her.

She was at home.

But Clark was in trouble. And missing.

She swung around abruptly to avoid crashing into the wall and tried — for the thousandth time — to find a hole in the case Henderson had outlined.

Lois had to admit that it seemed clear-cut. And with anyone other than Clark, she would have been swayed to accept the obvious.

Perry had a saying about ducks ...

And this looked unambiguous. The police case established opportunity. Motive. And they had a damning witness statement.

But Clark ...

Clark didn’t shoot people. And he didn’t run away from his mistakes.

The only possible reason for his continuing absence was that he didn’t know what had happened to Mayson.

He had to be somewhere else.

But where?

The one place he regularly visited was Smallville, but if he’d been planning to go home to see his folks, he would have told Perry.

Lois forced herself to sit on the sofa. She hauled in a humungous breath and slowed the commotion buzzing through her mind.

She closed her eyes.

Imagined the cups and sugar sachets.

And carefully reviewed every detail Henderson had given her.

Clark arriving home ...

Mayson arriving ...

The argument ...

Mayson’s angry words –

Lois’s eyes shot open.

Mayson had accused Clark of cheating on her.

Lois’s reaction had been to jump to his defence. But in doing that, she had missed the real significance.

There was a third person in this.

The other woman.

Clark — probably upset by the confrontation with Mayson — had slipped out of his apartment, unseen by the witness, and gone to the other woman, seeking support and comfort.

He was probably with her now.

As a theory, it was patchy. It didn’t explain who had killed Mayson or how the killer had entered Clark’s apartment unseen or how Clark’s neighbour had identified Clark as the person leaving after the shot had been fired.

But it did explain Clark’s disappearance.

He’d gone to his lover. They were probably tucked up in bed together, oblivious to collapsed tunnels and shattering reputations.

Lois waited for the roll of relief. Clark was probably safe.

But it wasn’t relief that swept through her.

It was jealousy.

The thought of Clark in bed — in love — with someone else felt like splinters of glass piercing her heart.

She had no right to feel jealous.

Clark had offered her his love. She had told him she would only ever love him as a friend.

So he had quietly found someone else.

So quietly, Mayson hadn’t known. Mayson had convinced herself that she had something with Clark, only to find out that his heart lay elsewhere.

She’d been blind — but not as blind as Lois had been.

And she certainly hadn’t deserved to die.

Who had killed her?

The most likely scenario was someone seeking revenge for something related to her work in the DA’s department.

The killer had followed her to Clark’s apartment, killed her, and run off. Perhaps he had donned some of Clark’s clothes, trying to swing the glare of suspicion to Clark.

Perhaps Mrs McCreadie had looked away and missed the moment when the real killer had arrived at Clark’s apartment. Perhaps she had only thought the person running away was Clark. It had been dark. And she could have been shaken by the sound of gunfire.

It didn’t answer all of the accusations levelled at Clark, but it was more plausible than believing he had killed a woman and then run away.

So ...

If Clark didn’t know about Mayson’s death, when he found out, he was going to be upset, but he wouldn’t be devastated.

He could give the police the details of his alibi, and then they, Clark and Lois, would investigate together to find Mayson’s murderer.

Lois would work alongside her partner, knowing that when their day was over, he would return to the woman he loved.

Lois’s tears erupted.

She had exactly what she’d said she wanted from Clark.

For them to be friends. Partners.

His voice cannoned around inside her head.

I have been in love with you for a long time. You must have known.

Had she known?

Had she known that Clark Kent was in love with her?

Yes, she’d known.

But she’d run away.

Into the arms of a criminal.

And now, it was too late.

Her tears of loss surged and spilled, hammering her until her throat felt parched and her heart felt dry.

She shakily rose from the sofa and turned on the television.

The news channel was covering the rescue live.

The reporters and interviewees were gushing in their praise of Superman. The death toll stood at fourteen. Estimates were that it would have been fifty times that without the help of the superhero.

It had taken nearly four hours, but all of the survivors had been freed from the tunnel and transported to the hospital. Without Superman’s help, it would have taken days to reach the front of the train where it had ploughed into the collapsed debris, bringing another section down on itself. The reporter said it was believed that Superman was now recovering the bodies of the victims.

The coverage jumped to an interview with a city engineer. He warned commuters that the entire subway system would be closed down until all tunnels had been checked. When pushed by the reporter to give an estimated timeframe, he said that Superman’s involvement would hasten the process, but the priority was safety, not convenience.

Lois knew she should be there.

It was going to be a big story. Now that all the survivors had been rescued, there would be questions asked about public safety, about negligence by the rail authorities. Current maintenance practices would be scrutinised. There would be follow-up stories as the survivors battled their injuries. The death toll would be carefully monitored. Loved ones would be reunited. There would be tributes to those who had died. There would be stories of lucky escapes and stories of the tragedy of being caught in the wrong place.

This event would be current for at least a week.

And the Daily Planet was relying on Ralph.

She should go.

Perhaps she would be able to get a few words with Superman. Perhaps she would be able to glean some small insight that would allow her to write a story to make a contribution to the Planet’s coverage.

She was a reporter.

Perhaps, when Clark heard about the disaster, he would come to Northwood. Or perhaps he would call her cell phone.

Perhaps, she would have the chance to break the news about Mayson and warn him that the police wanted to speak to him. Perhaps they could go to the police station together.

Lois hauled herself from her sofa, turned off the television, picked up her bag, and left her apartment in pursuit of a story.

Part 6

Detective Wolfe replaced the phone and stared at the timeline he had collated.

At ten-thirty the previous evening, Superman had rescued a small child who had been trapped down a drain. He’d left about ten minutes later.

The evidence said Mayson Drake had been shot at ten-fifty.

At ten past eleven, Superman had broken up a fight between two young men who had had too much to drink.

At twenty past eleven, Superman had arrived at Clark Kent’s apartment, where Wolfe and Henderson had been with the body.

What had Superman been doing in the twenty minutes after Mayson Drake’s death?

Twenty minutes was not a long time.

But for Superman, it was long enough.

Had Kent contacted the superhero? Had the superhero flown his friend away from Metropolis?

Had Superman’s surprise at Mayson’s death been an act? Surely, if the man could see through walls, he would have known before entering the apartment.

Immediately after conducting a preliminary assessment of the scene — the victim was dead and the perpetrator was gone — Wolfe had spoken to the woman who had called 911.

It had taken less than two minutes for his questions to draw from Mrs McCreadie the gist of her testimony. He’d called in and ordered that every patrol car, every officer, be looking for Clark Kent.

Much of Metropolis had been awake all night.

Yet no one had seen Kent.

No one.

Not the cab drivers. Not the airport workers. Not the cops.

No one.

How could a man disappear?

He couldn’t.

Unless ...

Unless he had some help.

Super-help.

Wolfe picked up the phone again and dialled Perry White’s direct number.

“Perry White.”

“Detective Wolfe, Mr White.”

The short silence was telling, indicating the editor knew about Mayson’s death and probably also knew his reporter was the primary suspect. “What can I do for you, Detective?” White asked with cool formality.

“Where is Clark Kent’s home town?”

The silence came again. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m investigating a murder,” Wolfe snapped — not because he was particularly annoyed, but because he wanted to remind White that he had the power to lay charges for obstructing an investigation.

“Smallville, Kansas,” White said, although his reluctance seared unambiguously down the phone line.

“Thank you.” Wolfe went to replace the phone.

“Detective?”

“Yes?”

“Have you found Clark?” White asked, his voice burdened with anxiety. “Why do you need to contact his family?”

“We haven’t found him yet.” Wolfe figured the answer to the second question was too obvious to waste his breath.

“When you find Clark ... if he needs anything ... a lawyer ... anything ... get him to call me.”

Wolfe made a grunt that could have signified agreement. “Thanks for the information, Mr White.” Then he jabbed at the hooks and disconnected the line before the editor could ask any more questions.

Wolfe tapped a couple of buttons to reach the front desk and asked the receptionist to put him through to the Sheriff’s Office in Smallville, Kansas.

***

Superman rounded a gentle curve, and the back of the train came into view. He landed in a quiet and darkened area, unnoticed by the small team of experts discussing the preliminary steps in clearing the tunnel. He’d systematically flown through the entire subway network, checking for any structural defects. They hadn’t been affected by the collapse in this section, but removing the debris — including the train — was going to be a long and precarious undertaking.

He could stay and help. He could reduce the time from days to hours. He could minimise the chance of a further collapse and reduce the risk of further injury.

But ...

The past several hours had felt as if he’d suspended his real life and become enmeshed in the evanescent isolation of the underground world.

He’d played the part of the calm, confident rescuer, but inside, the knowledge of what awaited him followed like an unrelenting stalker.

He was worried about Lois. He had taken the gun from Lana and gambled that the lateness of the hour and her unfamiliarity with Metropolis would be enough to secure Lois’s safety.

What if he’d miscalculated? Lois had been in her apartment last night, but if she’d heard about the tunnel collapse, she would have come out, chasing the story.

Mayson was dead. Thoughts of her had constantly drifted through his anxiety for Lois, accentuated by the atmosphere of death, the stench of fear, and the sight of bloodied bodies.

Although he never could have loved her, the grief at her passing clouded his heart with sorrow.

The rescues had been physically demanding. More than once, he had carefully lifted a portion of crumpled steel and held it aloft so that others could go in, treating the injured and cutting free the trapped.

Superman leant against the wall of the tunnel and let his head drop low. He felt utterly drained, but he knew it wasn’t the physical demands that had left him feeling so empty and fatigued.

It was the emotional demands. The need to reassure frightened people. The need to hold the hand of a trapped mother whose baby he had lifted unconscious from her arms. The need to grieve with an elderly woman pressed against the body of her deceased son. The need to push back anxiety. To alleviate shock. To ease pain. To stand in the gap between the victims and their fear.

Now, he was filthy. His suit was covered in a cocktail of grease, dirt, and blood.

He still had reserves of physical strength. If anyone had needed him, he could have continued.

But inside, he felt hollow. A big, vacuous nothing had sucked the life from him.

The people around him — the other rescuers and the rescued — thought he was a hero. They had showered him with their gratitude and respect.

How would they feel if they knew he was a murder suspect?

It was time to face his accusers.

He should look for Lois first. He couldn’t do anything until he knew she was safe.

Would she be at the train station? Had news of the collapse reached her? Had she tried to contact him so they could cover the story together?

If she had, she would know he was missing.

Did she believe he had killed Mayson?

That would hurt. Maybe even more than her rejection of his love had hurt.

They were friends.

Weren’t they?

She was also a reporter. She had reported on many murders. She had written the stories of many people considered to be decent and upright — people who had snapped or broken free from the charade and done something terrible.

Would she believe he had done that?

Taken a gun?

Fired?

And then run away?

Clark felt sick inside.

He could face anything — anything but her disappointment.

He loved her.

He needed her.

He wished he could go to her. He’d done it before after a difficult or arduous rescue. Gone to her apartment as Superman and pretended he was there to give her details for her story.

But, in truth, he’d been there because he’d needed to be with her.

Just a few moments with Lois restored him.

He needed her now.

But this time, he couldn’t go to her as Superman. The Suit would give him no protection against the agony of hearing her condemn Clark as being a cold-blooded murderer.

He straightened from the tunnel wall and trudged towards the entrance. Five minutes later, he emerged, and an enthusiastic cheer rose from the gathered crowd. He lifted his head and scanned the mass of people being kept at bay by a rope barrier that was reinforced by a ring of police officers.

The applause made him uncomfortable. He had never particularly liked being the centre of attention, but now it felt like a prickly blanket being pressed against his skin.

He stopped for a moment, pretending to acknowledge the crowd, but in reality, he was searching for Lois. Her heartbeat.

He found it — a steady rhythm of comfort amid the dissonance of so many other noises.

She was all right.

He skimmed across the gathered mass of people and found her.

Their eyes met.

He saw her apprehension. Her confusion. Her shock.

She’d been crying. He could see the tiny beads of dried tears scattered on her eyelashes.

She was here. Lana hadn’t hurt her.

But she was here. Openly here. Where Lana could find her.

She was here. She wasn’t looking for Clark. She wasn’t trying to solve Mayson’s murder.

She believed it had already been solved.

Whatever case the police had against Clark, Lois had accepted its validity.

She believed he was a killer and had moved on to the next story.

Inside, Superman — hero of a shaken city — died a little.

The head engineer came up to him. “How is it?” he asked anxiously.

“The rest of the tunnels are structurally sound,” Superman reported woodenly. “But that could be compromised during the removal of the train. Take every precaution.”

“Will you stay and help? Your strength would be invaluable.”

A hand grasped his arm, and Clark looked around to see Detective Wolfe.

A series of questions bombarded his brain. Did Wolfe know Superman was the murder suspect? Had he connected Clark’s disappearance with Superman’s involvement in the rescue? Had Lana revealed his secret?

“Superman?” Wolfe said. “Would you mind coming to the police station, please?”

“The station?” Clark said. “Why?”

“We need to talk to you about what you saw down there. Specifically, whether there was any evidence of sabotage.”

They thought someone had done it deliberately? Clark had been concentrating on the people who had needed his help, not looking for reasons why the tunnel had fallen in. “I didn’t see anything,” he said as the pressure of passed time squeezed against him. He needed to get away and become Clark Kent, murder suspect.

Wolfe’s grip tightened. “I would really appreciate it if you would come with me,” he said in a low, determined voice. “We want to avoid speculation in the media.”

Speculation about what? And why was Wolfe — the homicide detective working the Mayson Drake case — here now, wanting to question Superman about the collapsed tunnel?

Wolfe had to know. Superman’s identity was no longer a secret.

But Wolfe seemed willing to play along with the charade — publicly, at least.

“OK,” Superman said with an apologetic glance to the head engineer. Clark let them lead him towards the police car. As he slid into the back seat, the cheers and applause of the people jarred against his inner isolation and turmoil.

They drove the hero away. And although he’d looked, Clark hadn’t been able to see Lois again.

What if it had become public?

That Clark Kent was wanted for murder?

And that Superman was Clark Kent?

No. Clark calmed himself. If both of those details were known, the response to his appearance wouldn’t have been so effusively positive.

Where was Lana?

Had she come forward?

What had happened while he was in the tunnel?

How much time had passed? The covering of darkness above the lit streets hadn’t yet begun to disperse.

What was he going to say? When he finally faced their questions? How was he going to explain that, during the time of Mayson’s murder, Clark Kent hadn’t actually been anywhere?

Without an alibi, he was defenceless against their accusations.

How was he going to protect Lois while he was inside a police cell?

Should he tell the police that Lana had been in his apartment?

After all this time, it was going to appear as if he’d spent hours fabricating a lame excuse. And even if he said Lana had been in his apartment, how could he substantiate that fact?

He had to tell the police about Lana’s threats. He doubted it would help prove his innocence — his credibility was going to be razed by his unwillingness to answer some questions truthfully. And mentioning her name would leave him vulnerable to her blurting out his secret.

But, if Lana was at the police station glibly informing them that Clark Kent was Superman, she couldn’t be tracking Lois.

If Lois’s safety could be bought at the cost of his secret, there was no question he would be willing to pay.

But that was for the future. Right now, he was here as Superman. He needed to answer their questions — whether they were about the subway collapse or Mayson’s death — and get out of the station quickly.

Perhaps, while being questioned, he would find out more about the case against Clark. Perhaps he could use his hearing and vision to determine if Lana were at the station.

Perhaps that would help him decide whether his first priority was to be Clark and face the police, or to be Superman and protect Lois.

They stopped outside the police station, and Clark got out of the vehicle. As Wolfe accompanied him into the building, Clark said, “I’m filthy. Can I go and clean up, first?”

“This won’t take long,” Wolfe said. “I have a few questions I want to ask you.”

Resigned to the fact that he couldn’t walk — or fly — away without raising suspicion, Clark followed Wolfe into an interview room. A few moments later, Inspector Henderson walked in, shut the door, and sat behind Wolfe.

Clark waited.

“Great job on the rescue,” Wolfe said. “Several hundred people owe you their lives.”

Clark nodded as he tried to focus his hearing. He couldn’t distinguish Lana’s voice.

Wolfe took a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket and unfolded it. “At ten-thirty last night, you rescued a little boy who had fallen down a drain.”

“Yes.”

“Approximately forty minutes later, you broke up a fight between two young men.”

Clark nodded, trying to appear nonchalant despite the increasing tension pulling through his shoulders and into his neck.

“During those forty minutes, Mayson Drake was killed.”

So this wasn’t about the subway tragedy. Clark bit down on his exclamation of innocence as he stole a glance to Henderson. The inspector’s face was blank.

“About ten minutes after the fight incident, you arrived at Clark Kent’s apartment,” Wolfe continued.

So far, it didn’t seem as if Wolfe knew he was interviewing Clark Kent. Deciding silence was his ally, Clark said nothing.

“It’s what happened between Ms Drake’s murder and your appearance at the apartment that interests me,” Wolfe said, placing the sheet of paper of the table and sitting back in his seat.

“I didn’t see anything,” Clark stated earnestly. “I didn’t hear the gunshot. I didn’t see who was with Mayson.”

“Did Kent contact you at any time during the evening?”

“No,” Superman said. It was the truth.

“I think he did,” Wolfe said.

The blunt conviction of the statement felt a spurt of icy water to his face. Clark smothered his gasp and said nothing.

“I think Kent panicked after he shot Mayson Drake,” Wolfe said. “Perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps it was self-defence. Perhaps it was provocation. But I think he ran away and then he contacted you. I think you took him someplace where we wouldn’t be able to find him.”

The web of suspicion closed in. Clark had known he would be questioned as Clark. He hadn’t prepared to face questions as Superman.

“When was the last time you saw Clark Kent?” Wolfe asked.

“I didn’t fly him anywhere,” Superman replied.

“Do you know his family?”

Clark’s heart sank. “I’ve met them.”

“Have you ever been to their home? In Smallville, Kansas?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you were there?”

Clark made a quick decision that, in this instance, he needed to tell the truth. “I went there after I’d seen you at Clark’s apartment,” he admitted.

“Did you take Kent with you?”

“No. I flew there alone.”

“Why did you go to his home?”

“Because I didn’t want his parents to find out about this when they read the papers or heard the news in the morning.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That Mayson Drake had been killed in Clark’s apartment and the police wanted to talk with him.”

“What did they say?”

“They were shocked, of course. They were concerned about their son. And they were sorry that a life had been lost.”

“Did they say when they had last had contact with Kent?”

“No.”

“Did you ask them if he had contacted them recently?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I had awoken them from sleep. They were upset. I talked to them for a while. Then I left.”

“Did you take them anywhere? Bring them back to Metropolis?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’re Clark’s parents,” Superman said.

“Your point being?”

“I try to avoid appearing to be close to anyone. For their safety.”

“You could have brought them here secretly.”

“You told me Clark was going to be investigated. I thought that could include questioning his parents about any contact they’d had with him. If they had left Smallville and arrived in Metropolis a short time later, I thought –”

“You wanted to keep your part in this hidden?” Wolfe snapped.

“I had nowhere to take them,” Clark said, clinging to his composure. “I couldn’t take them to Clark’s apartment.”

“Are you aware they have left their home?”

“No. I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“Driving to the airport, I assume.”

“You didn’t offer to go back this morning and fly them to Metropolis?”

“No.”

Wolfe nodded, although Clark wasn’t at all sure that it represented acceptance of his answers. “Do you think Kent killed Mayson?”

“I wasn’t there.”

“Where were you? After the drain rescue and before breaking up the fight?”

“Patrolling.”

“Patrolling where?”

“Metropolis is a big city.”

“Do you have an alibi for that time?”

He had been with Lois for a few minutes. But remembering Wolfe’s reaction to Superman visiting Clark, he shrank back from mentioning that. “No.”

“So despite Metropolis being a big city, there were forty minutes when absolutely nothing happened requiring Superman’s help?”

“I didn’t see anything needing my help.”

“When you patrol, what are you looking for?”

“Anywhere I can help.”

“You listen?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t hear a gunshot?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why did you come to Kent’s apartment?”

“I drop in there sometimes.”

“The timing of this particular visit suggests this was more than a casual visit.”

“Until the subway collapse, it was a quiet night.”

“Kent had been seeing a lot of Mayson Drake,” Wolfe said. “Wouldn’t that be awkward? If you were to ‘drop in’ when he’s entertaining a woman?”

“That has never happened.”

“Did you know Kent was seeing Mayson?”

“I didn’t know he was ‘seeing’ her.”

“Did Kent ever discuss Mayson Drake with you?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“If there was a chance you’d interrupt a private moment, wouldn’t you look into his apartment before landing on the balcony?”

“I don’t look into apartments.”

“So when you landed on the balcony, you didn’t know we were there? You didn’t know Mayson’s body was there?”

“No.”

“I think you didn’t need to look because you already knew what you’d see. I think you’d already talked to Kent.”

Clark looked straight at Wolfe. “When I landed on Clark’s balcony, I had no knowledge of what had happened to Ms Drake.”

“How important are friends to you, Superman?”

“I’m not in a position to have close friends.”

“Would you lie to protect a friend?”

Clark paused. In some ways, his entire life — both of them — was a lie. “Superman stands for truth,” he said quietly.

Wolfe’s expression indicated he’d taken the answer as an admission that Superman would lie. “Do you know where Kent is now?”

“I have been in a tunnel for most of the night.”

“Answer the question, Superman. Do you know where Kent is now?”

“How could I possibly know the whereabouts of anyone who wasn’t in the subway?”

“If you’d taken Kent somewhere before going into the subway, it is reasonable to assume he would still be there.”

“I didn’t take Clark Kent anywhere.”

Wolfe’s eyes hardened with disbelief. “Can you shed any light on why Kent has disappeared?”

Clark forced his weary mind to cooperate. “Many people will wake up soon, having slept through the night unaware of either the tunnel collapse or Ms Drake’s murder,” he said.

“Are you saying Kent could be asleep somewhere?”

“I’m saying it’s hardly unusual to sleep through the night hours,” Clark said.

“He’s a reporter. His partner, Lois Lane, was at Northwood. Would it be usual for him to sleep in those circumstances?”

–

Clark sighed, wishing now that he hadn’t tried to suggest a possible explanation for Clark’s disappearance. As he was trying to frame a way to say he didn’t know about the routine of newspaper reporters without actually lying, Wolfe fired his next question.

“Is there any point in continuing to search for Kent in Metropolis?”

“Am I going to be charged with anything?”

“If I can prove you knew Kent had killed Mayson Drake and took him somewhere to avoid arrest, you will be charged with obstruction of justice.”

“Can I leave now?”

“Will you go and get Kent? And bring him to the station?”

“If I find Clark, I will strongly advise him to come to the station.”

“You can leave now.”

Superman stood and passed both cops as he strode to the door.

“Oh, Superman?”

Clark turned at Wolfe’s question.

“Did you see any evidence of sabotage in the subway?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Thank you.”

Superman walked out of the interview room, his mind a chaotic mess of uncertainty. If he came back now as Clark, Wolfe was going to believe Superman had taken Clark, had hidden him, had lied about it, and had bowed to Wolfe’s pressure.

Clark Kent’s reputation had taken a battering. The longer he stayed away, the worse it would get.

But if he went back now — as Clark — Superman’s reputation would be irreparably damaged.

If Clark were charged with murder, Superman would be charged with being an accessory after the fact.

Except if Clark were detained, Superman would disappear.

Clark walked past the counter and looked into the early morning murkiness beyond the wide glass doors. A crowd had gathered. Reporters. Photographers. Members of the general public.

Waiting for him.

Clark groaned silently. Was this about the subway collapse? Or did they know the real reason Wolfe had insisted on speaking with Superman?

The sliding doors opened, and he stepped past the barrier of police officers guarding their station.

“Superman!” the crowd called. “Superman.”

A cacophony of questions rose. Questions about the subway.

Nothing about Mayson Drake. Or Clark Kent.

Perhaps he should just fly off.

But then the crowd — including reporters and photographers — would still be here when he returned as Clark.

Perhaps if he answered a few questions, they would leave to write up their stories.

He gestured to a female reporter from LNN, hoping the Superman guise would mask his impatience.

He answered her question, his mind tumbling ahead.

He had to find Lois and ensure she was safe.

He had to look for Lana.

He had to get back to being Clark Kent.

The man accused of murder.

***

The moment the elevator doors slid open, Lois hurried through them, making a beeline for her desk. While her computer was logging on, she sorted through her notes. After Superman had left with Wolfe, she’d found Jimmy and yanked him away from Ralph, informing the young photographer that he was working with her now. She’d talked to a few bystanders who had spent most of the night at the site. She’d slipped under the barrier to ask one of the paramedics in a waiting ambulance about the injuries sustained and had been lucky enough to be there — with Jimmy — when a small boy had been reunited with his mother.

She didn’t have enough for overall coverage of the story, but she had enough to write a contributing piece.

At any other time, the thought of being a support act to Ralph’s butchering of events would have turned her stomach, but right now, she didn’t care. All she wanted was her partner back.

Lois glanced up to the elevator, hoping the doors would open and Clark would swing in with that long hands-in-pockets stride, oblivious to everything that had happened in his absence.

But the doors remained stubbornly shut.

Perry came from his office as Lois opened a new file. “Did you find Clark?” he said.

“No.”

“He wasn’t at Northwood?”

“No.”

“Did you see the victims? Do you know for sure he wasn’t on that train?”

“I checked with the Medical Examiner. Only one victim was a young male, and he was an African American.”

“What about the injured?”

“It’s too early to get any information from the hospitals regarding individual patients,” Lois said. “But I saw Superman at the site. I’m sure he would have told me if he’d rescued Clark.”

Perry rubbed his fingers across his unshaven cheek. “What do you know about the murder?”

“Nothing I can use in a story.”

“You’ve got something from the subway disaster?” he asked with a nod to her computer.

“Just a side-story. And Jimmy has a couple of good photos. Mother and young son reunion.” Lois glanced up from her screen. Perry looked tired. Despondent. Worried. “Sorry I wasn’t there to get you the whole story.”

“You had to try to help Clark,” Perry said. He turned and walked dejectedly back to his office.

Lois’s fingers pounded the keyboard as she quickly wrote her story.

She saved it.

She rushed to the coffee machine. She took three sips and two breaths to try to give herself some distance and then re-read her story.

It was surprisingly good. And even more unexpectedly, it had that human touch that had been so notoriously absent from her work BC.

Before Clark.

He wasn’t here, but he’d been a constant in her thoughts as she’d written, so perhaps something of his essence had permeated her work.

Satisfied, she hit ‘send’, picked up her tepid cup of bitter coffee, and went to Perry’s office.

He looked up as she entered.

“I just submitted my story,” she said. “It’s not much, but ...”

“Thanks. I appreciate you going to the site. I know you have a lot on your mind.”

“You haven’t heard from Clark?” Lois asked, realising as the words came out that it was an inane question.

“No.”

“Chief?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know anything about Clark’s personal life?”

Her question had surprised Perry. “Not really,” he said.

“Do you know if he is in a relationship?”

Perry hesitated.

“You do know something?” Lois asked in swift response to the hesitation. “Has he said something to you?”

“I would have thought that if Clark were in a relationship, you would have been one of the first people to know.”

“You think he’d confide in me?”

Perry looked as if he wished he hadn’t spoken. “I figured you would have been the other person in the relationship.”

“Clark and I are friends,” Lois said firmly. “And partners.”

It wasn’t possible to determine from Perry’s nod whether he accepted her assertion.

“Do you know of anyone else?” she persisted.

“Mayson Drake came here a few times. And as she was at Clark’s –”

“Is there anyone other than Mayson?”

“No. No one. Why?”

“Just a theory I’m working on.”

Perry tapped his pencil on his desk. “Lois?” he said in a tone that darted chills up her spine.

“What?”

“There have been leaks.”

“Leaks? About what?”

“About what happened to Mayson.”

“Well, it wasn’t going to be possible to keep it quiet for long,” Lois said. “As the deputy DA, she had a profile in this city.

“Not just that she has died, but where she died. And the identity of the main suspect.”

“Clark’s name has been mentioned?”

“Lois ...” Perry’s long breath rattled through the silence. “As I hear it, this is about as open and shut as a murder case gets. Opportunity, witnesses ... and Clark hasn’t done himself any favours by disappearing.”

Lois’s mouth shot open in protest, but she closed it without saying anything. She had proclaimed over and over again that Clark could not have killed Mayson, but nothing had changed.

Her protests had been about as effective as bashing a brick wall with a feather.

She needed proof. When she had proof, they would have to listen.

“The word is there were only two people in the apartment — Mayson and Clark,” Perry said

“Henderson told me that.”

“Mayson couldn’t have shot herself in the back of the head.”

Lois said nothing.

“She was facing the door,” Perry continued. “The shot came from inside the apartment.”

Lois tapped her foot a couple of times, hoping her exasperation would crackle through the atmosphere.

“Only two people were there,” Perry mumbled.

Lois rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. A mountain of ‘facts’ was not going to make her believe Clark was capable of murder.

“I called the hospital,” Perry said glumly. “Clark isn’t there.”

Lois nailed Perry with a long, hard look. “Do you really believe he could kill?” she asked.

“I ... I believe everyone can snap,” her editor replied sadly. “I’ve been in this business too long to think anything is impossible.”

Lois slowly shook her head. “Clark didn’t kill Mayson,” she said. “I know he didn’t.”

“Do you know something the police don’t know?” Perry asked with sudden hope. “Was Clark with you?”

“No. I haven’t seen him for a week.”

“How can you know he didn’t do it?”

Lois murmured her frustration. Why was she having to explain what should have been obvious to everyone who knew Clark? “Because he’s Clark.”

Perry grimaced. “That isn’t going to stand up in court, Lois.”

“This isn’t going to get to court.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I can’t prove Clark didn’t do it, I’m going to prove someone else did.” She jerked the door open.

“Lois?”

She stopped but didn’t turn back to Perry.

“If he needs anything … I’d like to help.”

“Thanks,” she said, responding to the words, not the hopelessness so evident in his tone.

She firmly shut the door, went back to her desk, shut down her computer, picked up her bag, and hurried to the elevator.

It was a few minutes after six o’clock. She needed to get to Clark’s apartment and meet Henderson.

Part 7

Clark — now clean, but still wearing the Suit — settled on top of one of the tall Metropolis buildings. He folded his cape around his shoulders, crossed his forearms over his arched knees, and stared ahead, his eyes fixed on the door of the Daily Planet building.

Ten minutes earlier, he’d faced a barrage of questions about the subway collapse as he’d emerged from the police station. He’d given them a few answers, dredging details from a mind stalled in the tragedy and circumstances of Mayson’s death.

He’d lost patience and flown away after a few minutes. He’d washed in the middle of Hobb’s Bay, hoping the cold water would shake him loose from the cloud of numbness that had engulfed him. After drying himself and the Suit, he’d floated above Metropolis, searching for Lois.

Finding her had been as simple as looking through the Daily Planet building. She’d been at her desk, feverishly typing up her story. He’d scanned her monitor and read a few lines of her copy — enough to realise she was writing about the subway disaster.

Not the murder of Mayson Drake.

He hadn’t been able to decide whether that brought relief or disappointment.

Perhaps he just wasn’t capable of feeling anything with any clarity.

The subway story was huge. But the death of a deputy DA? Surely, that was going to be a big story, too?

Particularly for Lois. She had to know the murder had happened in her partner’s apartment.

Had she accepted his guilt so easily? And moved on?

His answer had come a few minutes later.

Lois had risen from her desk and marched into Perry’s office. Clark had willed himself to fly away.

He’d failed so comprehensively that not only had he continued his surveillance, he’d increased it by listening to their conversation. He’d justified his actions by telling himself that not acquiring information before facing the police was just plain gullible.

He’d heard Lois ask Perry about Clark’s personal life.

Perry had replied that if Clark had been in a relationship, he would have thought it would have been with Lois.

She’d repeated the line that had become their mantra. We’re friends. And partners.

The torment of that truth had risen up all over again, scorching new welts on wounds that were still laid bare and festering.

Perry had commented that Mayson couldn’t have shot herself in the back of the head. He added that the shot had come from inside the apartment.

Lois — his friend and partner — hadn’t protested.

Perry had said more, but it had blurred into a haze of words as Clark had waited for just one thing — the woman he loved to question whether Clark Kent had really killed Mayson Drake.

She hadn’t. She hadn’t questioned the details. She hadn’t challenged the assumption that Clark had been holding the gun that had ended Mayson Drake’s life.

With a heart that felt like a chunk of cold hard kryptonite, Clark had turned away, snapping off his hearing and taking refuge in the nearest tall building.

He’d sat down. Below him, the city had begun to stir in response to the gathering daylight, but Clark had been too busy grappling with the speed with which his life had disintegrated to take much notice.

The jury — the only jury he cared about — had found him guilty as charged.

He hadn’t even had the chance to defend himself.

His mind tumbled back to his encounter with Lana. Where was she now? Would she really try to hurt Lois if he went to the police? Was she still watching the police station? Would she know if he went there? Had she seen Superman there? He should have looked for her while he’d been answering the questions.

Once he stepped into the police station, he would no longer have any control over his life.

He would be powerless to protect Lois.

Would the police believe him if he were to tell them about Lana’s threats? Or had all his credibility been eroded by the long hours of absence?

As he watched, the door of the Daily Planet building opened and Lois walked out. Clark stood to his feet, his eyes darting around her.

No one stepped out from the shadows. She hailed a cab and got in. No one appeared. No one got into another cab and followed her.

Where was Lana?

Could he warn Lois? He couldn’t as Clark. Clark was a wanted fugitive.

Could he go to her as Superman? Could he warn her and beg her to be careful?

Would she believe him? Would it moderate her behaviour? Would she take care to avoid potentially dangerous situations?

Probably not, he realised.

She would ask a whole lot of questions — questions he couldn’t answer without admitting he had seen Clark. And that … well, even with all of his superpowers, it wasn’t easy to escape Lois Lane in full pursuit-of-a-story mode.

If Lana knew Clark Kent was Superman, how would she respond to Superman talking with Lois?

He had to do something. He had left Lana ... and now Mayson was dead.

With a whoosh, Superman flew into the Daily Planet building and landed in Perry White’s office.

“Superman,” the editor said, looking up at his sudden visitor with admirable composure. “I hear we have you to thank for saving many of our citizens’ lives.”

Clark wasn’t here to be thanked. “Mr White,” he said. “I believe Ms Lane could be in danger.”

Perry’s remained unmoved. “Lois is often in danger,” he said wearily. “You know that better than anyone. How many times have you saved her life?”

“But, this time ... I’m worried.”

Perry straightened a little in his seat. “What have you heard?”

Clark began to wish he’d had the equanimity to plan what he needed to say before barging into Perry’s office. “I’ve ... I’ve heard ... things. That someone ... someone has made threats … about hurting Lois.”

“Lois didn’t mention anything.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“You think those threats are serious?”

“I don’t know,” Superman said. “But I wanted you to know.”

“Have you told Henderson?”

“No.”

Perry sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t let her go off by herself. Insist she tells you what she’s doing and where she’s going.”

Perry shot him an incredulous look. “This is Lois we’re talking about, right?” he said. “Lois L…” His speech stalled, his amazement faded, and he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “Is this about Clark?”

“She’s working alone,” Superman said tonelessly. “That makes her more vulnerable.”

“So this is about Clark?”

“I just want Lois to be careful.”

“Have you heard from Clark?” Perry asked. “I suppose you know the police want to question him?”

“Detective Wolfe told me.”

“Has Clark contacted you?”

“The police have already asked me these questions.”

Perry didn’t react to the barb of impatience in Superman’s reply. “Who threatened Lois?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because … because I’m worried that anything I say could increase the risk to Lois.”

“That’s why you haven’t spoken to the police?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell Lois?”

“I think … I don’t want to be seen with her. For her own safety.”

“You think she’s being watched?” Perry gasped.

“It’s possible.”

“You think this person ... the one who made threats against Lois ... could be out of control? Could do something out of character?”

“Yes,” Superman said, glad Perry had understood.

“Why are you telling me?”

“You’re her editor.”

“You’re Superman.”

“I ... I’ve been busy in the tunnel. I … they … The debris needs clearing.”

Perry stared at Superman for a stretched moment with eyes that were rimmed red with exhaustion. “Are you sure about this, Superman?” he said. “Are you sure you have your facts right?”

Clark wasn’t sure about much at all anymore. Except that he would never forgive himself if Lana hurt Lois. “Please, Mr White,” he said. “If I didn’t think Lois could be in danger, I wouldn’t have come.”

Perry opened his mouth, and Clark braced himself for another question. But then, the editor sighed deeply and said, “OK, Superman. I’ll look out for her. Anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” He turned around with a swish of his cape.

“Oh, Superman?”

“Yes?”

“If you know where Clark is, or if you find him, please tell him to go to the police station.”

The question rose up Clark’s throat and leapt from his mouth. “Do you think Clark did what they’re saying? Do you think he could take a gun and shoot someone?”

“I think difficult circumstances affect all of us differently,” Perry said.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Perry’s head hung low. When he looked up, despair had etched new lines on his face. “The evidence says there were two people in Clark’s apartment when Mayson died,” he said. “Clark and Mayson. Mayson was shot.” His hands lifted from his desk, then slumped back. “Clark is like a son to me, but I don’t know what else to believe. I wish –”

But Clark had heard enough. Superman flew from the building, shooting up into the sky as shards of isolation perforated his heart.

Perry believed Clark had killed Mayson.

Lois had accepted his guilt without a whimper.

He was a murder suspect. Accused — that was bad enough. Alone — that was worse.

***

Lois arrived outside Clark’s apartment at eighteen minutes past six. She’d bought two cups of hot, fresh coffee from a street vendor, and now, she walked over to the cop guarding Clark’s door and offered him one.

He looked at it longingly, but then his expression turned wary. “You can’t go in,” he said.

“Henderson will be here in a minute,” Lois replied. “We’re going in together.”

With relief, the cop took the coffee and gave her a smile. “Thanks,” he said.

“Quiet night?” Lois asked nonchalantly as she sipped from her steaming cup.

“After everyone realised there was nothing to see and returned to their warm homes,” he said. “What’s happening at the subway?”

“Superman got everyone out.”

“Casualties?”

“Fourteen, last I heard. That might rise. A paramedic said some of the injuries were serious.”

“Any sign that it was deliberate?”

“I think they’re investigating that now. Wolfe took Superman to the police station as soon as he emerged from the tunnel.”

“Wolfe?”

“Yeah. It surprised me, too,” Lois said. “I thought he was supposed to be working this case.”

The cop wrinkled his brow. “I doubt there could be any connection between the two events, could there?”

Lois thought for a moment. “I don’t see how. Unless it was sabotage and it was linked to something Mayson was working on.”

The cop shrugged. “Perhaps resources are so stretched that Wolfe had to be pulled off this case and put onto the subway disaster.”

“Yeah,” Lois said. She breathed in the warm coffee aroma as a troupe of new ideas somersaulted across her mind.

What if Wolfe’s reason for wanting to see Superman had nothing to do with the subway tragedy? What if he’d wanted to ask questions about Mayson’s death? Or Clark’s whereabouts?

Until now, her thoughts had been so focussed on Clark, she hadn’t considered Superman. He was Clark’s friend. He would know Clark couldn’t have killed Mayson. He’d been busy all night with the rescue, but now everyone was out, she needed him to help her clear Clark’s name.

***

Superman hovered above the police station.

He had to go to the police. As Clark.

Regardless of the ramifications.

Regardless of the questions they would ask him.

Regardless of the tests they would want to do.

Regardless of what Lana would do.

Regardless of what Lois thought of him.

Regardless of whether his bumbling attempt to warn Perry would provide Lois with any protection at all.

Time had run out. He needed to go to the police station. He needed see if anything of Clark Kent’s life was salvageable.

Even if the consequence was being charged with murder, he had to go.

He flew into the nearby alley and spun into Clark’s clothes.

Then, with unwavering steps, he walked towards the entrance of the police station.

No hand gripped his arm. No voice shouted his name.

He took a deep breath. He couldn’t detect a trace of the scent Lana had been wearing last night.

The automatic doors slid open, and Clark walked inside.

***

An approaching figure cut through Lois’s clutter of theories, and she looked up to see Henderson walking briskly towards Clark’s apartment. “Good morning,” he said in the tone of a man who held the opinion that morning had come far too quickly to be considered ‘good’. He took a set of keys from his pocket and pushed one of them into the lock in Clark’s door.

“Oh,” Lois said.

Henderson glanced at her. “You thought we’d be breaking in?” he asked with a wry smile. He stepped into Clark’s apartment and switched on the light.

Lois stood at the top of the little flight of stairs and looked around, searching for anything that could be significant.

It looked ... dishevelled. Which, she supposed, was to be expected after a forensic team had foraged through it.

With every sense alert for clues, Lois moved slowly down the steps, veering to the left in careful avoidance of the place where Mayson had lain.

There was nothing noteworthy in the living area. Nothing in the kitchen.

Lois turned towards Clark’s bedroom and stopped as the image of Clark with another woman rose into her mind.

Henderson came up behind her. “You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“It can be tough, sometimes,” he said. “Particularly when it was someone you knew.”

“Yeah.” Lois stepped into Clark’s bedroom. “Someone has been on the bed.”

“Well, ah, yeah,” Henderson said.

“No, I mean Clark makes his bed every morning. I’ve never seen the covers ruffled.”

“You come into Clark’s bedroom?”

“The bathroom’s that way,” Lois said, pointing forward. She moved to the closet, opened the door, and gasped.

“What?” Henderson said from behind her.

There was a dress hanging alongside Clark’s row of business shirts. Lois leaned closer, examining it without touching it. It was a sleeveless dress with alternating dark and light salmon stripes. The round neck dropped low, and the skirt cascaded to knee-length from under a large cream bow tied at the waist.

She stepped back to allow Henderson to see. “The forensic team didn’t think this was important?” she asked.

“They figured it belonged to Mayson,” he said.

Surprise billowed through Lois. “And did they also have a theory as to why it’s in Clark’s closet?”

Henderson looked uncomfortable. “It looks as if she stayed here a bit,” he said. “Her baking pan was here.”

“That means she has cooked here. It doesn’t mean she slept here.”

Henderson nodded towards the bathroom. “There’s more of her stuff in there.”

Lois went into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. There were rows of tubes on both shelves — skincare products made by the French company, La Roche-Posay. All of the tubes were part of the Toleriane range. She turned to Henderson. “You think Mayson moved in with Clark?”

“We think she was in the process of moving in. Mrs McCreadie said she had visited him two evenings this week and she was here very early one morning.”

Lois moved back into the bedroom. She gestured to the dress. “Is it OK if I take it out?”

Henderson nodded.

Lois slipped the dress from the hanger, gathered the material to her nose, and inhaled deeply. She couldn’t detect any trace of the cologne Clark used. “Why didn’t the forensics guys take this dress?” she asked.

“They probably checked it for ... for substances, and then decided it wasn’t relevant.”

“You mean blood?”

“Yeah.” Henderson looked uncomfortable. “And semen.”

Lois’s head shot up from the dress. “Mayson wasn’t raped?”

“No. There is no evidence of sexual abuse. No bruising anywhere on her body.”

Lois held up the dress for the cop’s inspection. “You really think this belonged to Mayson Drake?” she said, not able to smother her derision.

Henderson looked the dress up and down. “It’s not what she would wear to work,” he conceded. “But she could have dressed differently during her free time.”

“I’ve never seen her in anything that reaches beyond her mid thighs,” Lois said.

Henderson cleared his throat.

Lois stretched out the skirt sideways. “And three of her could have fitted into this.”

“Perhaps Clark bought it for her,” Henderson suggested. “Men aren’t always great at estimating size.”

“This isn’t hers,” Lois said.

“You can’t be sure about that.”

“The cosmetics aren’t hers, either.”

“How do you know?”

“The brand, La Roche-Posay, isn’t widely available in Metropolis. I’ve never seen the range, Toleriane, before. It’s French.”

“Perhaps Mayson ordered it in from France.”

“The make-up is wrong.” Lois laid the dress on Clark’s bed. “Mayson sticks rigidly to pastels. The colours are earthier. More suited to a woman with darker hair.”

“Lois,” Henderson said. “Even if the dress and the cosmetics don’t belong to Mayson, it makes no difference to the case. It doesn’t change that two people were in this apartment and one of them was shot dead.”

“It changes everything,” Lois insisted. “It confirms there is a third person involved. The witness said she heard Mayson accuse Clark of cheating.” She gestured to the dress and beyond, to the bathroom. “These belong to the other woman.”

Henderson’s blank look encouraged her to continue.

“That other woman has been here,” Lois stated. “She sat on Clark’s bed. That’s how it got rumpled.”

“It doesn’t look rumpled to me,” Henderson said, his gaze darting over the bed.

“It is,” Lois asserted. “Clark’s bed is usually so neat, you’d think an army sergeant had checked it. He makes it in the morning, and it stays that way until evening. It he’d sat here, he would’ve straightened it.”

“It could have been Mayson.”

Lois shook her head. “You told me that the first time she was here, she stayed five or six minutes. The witness heard arguing — that suggests they were near the door. The second time Mayson came, the shot was fired a couple of minutes later. It wasn’t Mayson on the bed. And it wasn’t Clark. It was the owner of the dress. She was here. Yesterday.”

“OK,” Henderson said.

“She was here when Mayson came,” Lois said eagerly. “That’s how Mayson concluded that Clark had someone else.”

“Mrs McCreadie didn’t see anyone else arrive.”

“Mrs McCreadie was at the vet,” Lois said. “Of course she didn’t see this woman arrive.”

“After the shot was fired, Clark was seen running away,” Henderson said. “When Wolfe and I arrived a few minutes later, there was no one here except Mayson.”

Lois said nothing.

“And it doesn’t explain where he’s been all night,” Henderson added.

It felt like blades rising up her throat, but Lois pushed the words out. “He could have been with the owner of the dress. In her apartment.”

“Why would Clark go there, if she were here?” Henderson demanded.

“When you and Wolfe arrived, neither of them was here. Perhaps they –”

“If she lives here, she wouldn’t have an apart-”

Lois flounced to the closet and swung the doors wide open. “If she lives here, she doesn’t own many outfits.”

Henderson lifted his hands. “A dress and a few tubes of cosmetics aren’t going to change anything,” he said.

“They bring doubt.”

“We have a witness statement saying Clark ran away after the shot was fired. He was here when Mayson was killed. He ran away. He hasn’t been seen since. They are the actions of a guilty man. This changes nothing.”

“It’s stopped you saying ‘two people, one shot dead,’” Lois said grumpily.

“Lois, I don’t want Clark to be guilty, either. But none of your possible scenarios are supported by the evidence.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what happened. I’m trying to make you see that there are alternatives.”

“Not if you look at the evidence.” From Henderson’s jacket pocket came the sound of his cell phone. “Excuse me,” he said as he put it to his ear. He listened and nodded a couple of times as Lois tried to eavesdrop. His eyebrows leapt with surprise. “OK,” he said finally. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“What’s happened?” Lois asked.

Henderson returned the cell phone to his pocket. “Clark Kent walked into the Metropolis Central Police Station ten minutes ago.”

“Clark? Is he all right?”

“He’s all right.”

Relief — mixed with anxiety — flooded through Lois. “Did he say where he’s been? Did he say who killed Mayson? Was someone with him? What happens now?”

“He hasn’t said anything yet. Wolfe wants me to be there when he questions Clark. He didn’t mention anyone else with Clark.”

“What happens after Clark has been questioned?” Lois asked.

“If he confesses, he will be charged.”

“And if he doesn’t confess?” Lois asked sourly.

“That will depend on whether Wolfe thinks he has enough evidence to get a conviction.”

“Clark didn’t do it.”

“You have no evidence to prove that.”

“I have over a year of working with him.”

Henderson stared at her for a long moment. “Lois? Is there more between you and Clark than just your working relationship?”

“We’re friends.”

“More than friends?”

“No.” It was true. And it was her fault it was true. Clark had offered her his love, and she had rejected him. “This is not my dress, and those are not my cosmetics.”

“Because the way it stands at the moment, if you go to the station and proclaim Clark’s innocence, it’s ...” Henderson paused, looking as if he regretted having begun. “... it’s going to look like a woman mindlessly defending her man.”

The ‘mindlessly’ hurt. “I don’t have to be in love with Clark to know he would never kill someone and run away.”

“The prisons are full of people who ‘would never’ do exactly what they were found guilty of doing.”

Lois tempered the glare she could feel forming and asked, “What do you think will happen, Bill? Do you think Clark will be charged?”

He took a moment to consider his reply. “Yes,” he said disconsolately. “I think Wolfe has enough.”

“A weapon?”

“No. But the witness is sure of what she saw. Her testimony proves opportunity. It happened in Clark’s apartment, Lois. The overheard argument and the possibility of another woman suggest motive. Running away and disappearing all night –”

“Clark didn’t do it,” Lois said. “And you won’t be able to prove he did.”

“Then I figure you have a couple of hours to prove that he didn’t,” Henderson said. He took a plastic bag from his pocket and moved towards the dress.

“Wait!” Lois said. She took her camera from her bag, and Henderson waited while she took a photo of the dress as it lay on the bed. “Thanks,” she said. “What are you going to do with the dress?”

“Ask Mayson’s sister if it belonged to her.”

Lois went into the bathroom and, using the tips of her fingers on the rim of the lid, she picked up one of the tubes of face cream. She took it back to Henderson. “Take this,” she said. “If you can get a fingerprint from it, you might be able to identify the other woman. Then, perhaps, you’ll be on the way to actually solving this case instead of just jumping on the most obvious answer.”

Henderson didn’t respond to her gibe. But he did carefully put the face cream into another plastic bag. “I need to lock the door and take the keys,” he said. “And I can’t leave you in here.”

“OK,” Lois said. She sprinted up the stairs and exited the apartment. Once outside, she turned to Henderson. “Thanks for letting me go in, Bill.”

Henderson locked Clark’s door. “We both want the same thing,” he said.

Lois nodded tersely and walked away.

***

Clark figured it was significant that after walking up to the front desk of the police station and saying, “I’m Clark Kent,” he hadn’t needed to explain the reason for his presence.

A uniformed cop had sprung out from his desk behind the counter and escorted Clark to an interview room. He’d asked Clark to sit at the desk, and then he’d stood guard at the door for ten long minutes while, outside the room, the atmosphere had buzzed with snippets of urgent conversation and pulsated with harried footsteps.

Clark couldn’t be bothered tuning in his hearing. He was sure that whatever case they had against him would be outlined soon enough.

Meanwhile, he should use this time to plan.

Plan what?

Plan to deny that he had killed Mayson.

Then what?

How was he going to explain his tardiness in arriving at the station? How was he going to give details of where he had been during the night?

Lana had said there was a witness who had identified him as the murderer. How was he going to disprove that allegation when he had no explanation for what Clark had been doing at the time of her death?

What was he going to say about Lana?

He had to tell them she had made threats against Lois.

Would Wolfe believe him? Would they look for Lana? And if they found her, what would she tell them?

That he had fathered her baby?

That he had cheated on her with Mayson?

Or that he was Superman?

Had Lana been watching the entrance of the police station? Had she managed to obtain another gun? Was she, right now, heading to the Daily Planet in search of Lois?

The minutes dragged by slowly.

Was this a part of the police strategy? To keeping him waiting? To intensify the mental pressure? Was the cop at the door surreptitiously watching him for signs of guilt?

Clark closed his eyes. Immediately, the vision of Mayson’s crumpled body invaded his mind, melding with the memories of the bodies he had recovered from the train wreck. His eyes shot open, dispelling the spectre of death.

Thoughts of Lois flooded in.

She would be all right. Perry would check on her.

Clark tried to search for her heartbeat, but the screech of noise from outside assaulted his eardrums.

He dropped his head into his hands and allowed his mind to succumb to exhaustion.

***

Lois swung through the bullpen at the Daily Planet and made straight for the darkroom. She hammered impatiently on the door.

“Don’t come in,” came back the urgent call.

“Jimmy?” Lois called. “I need you to develop a photo for me.”

“Lois, I’m busy.”

“This is important, Jimmy.”

“The Chief wants these shots for a second morning edition.”

Lois put her hand on the doorknob. “I’m coming in, Jimmy.”

His shriek was exactly the response she had expected. “No!”

“Then open the door.”

He groaned, but less than half a minute later, the door opened an inch and Jimmy peeked out. “What?”

Lois shoved her camera at his nose. “There’s a shot of a dress. I need –”

“A dress!”

“Yes. It’s one shot, Jimmy. It’s important. And I need it now.”

“If the Chief –”

“I’ll deal with Perry. Just do it, Jimmy.”

He took the camera. “Twenty minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

He nodded in resignation and recoiled into the darkroom.

Part 8

The long minutes of waiting ended when Detective Wolfe strode into the interview room, followed by Inspector Henderson and another officer Clark didn’t know by name. Wolfe slid into the seat opposite Clark, Henderson shut the door, and he and the third officer sat behind Wolfe.

“Mr Kent,” Wolfe said.

His solemn tone and businesslike demeanour tightened the knots tangled in Clark’s stomach. The police held all the advantages. They would ask questions he wouldn’t want to answer honestly. They had the training and experience to assess the truth of a suspect’s story.

Clark didn’t know what they knew. He didn’t know if he was going to be charged with murder. He didn’t know if, when he left this room, his life would have changed forever.

Wolfe put a tape recorder on the table and started the recording. He tonelessly spoke the details of time and those present and then looked directly at Clark. “Why did you come to the station?” he asked.

“I heard you wanted to talk with me.”

“Who told you that?”

Actually, Wolfe had told him. Last night. In Clark’s apartment. As he had stood over Mayson’s body. “I heard you wanted to talk to me. I came as soon as I could.”

The spark of interest in Wolfe’s face made Clark wish he hadn’t offered the final sentence. He resolved to pare his answers to the barest detail.

“Do you know why we want to talk to you?” the detective asked.

“I know Mayson Drake was found dead in my apartment.”

“Did you kill her?”

***

Lois stood a few yards from the door to Clark’s apartment.

The cop had gone. With Clark at the police station, they probably deemed it unnecessary to continue surveillance on his apartment.

Remembering Henderson’s demonstration with the cups and sugar sachets, Lois looked up and to her right. There was a row of second-floor windows. The first one offered the perfect vantage point to monitor the entrance to Clark’s apartment.

Lois moved to the outer door of the apartment building and reached into her bag for her tools. Half a minute later, the lock succumbed, and she walked into the foyer. After climbing the stairs, she knocked on the first door.

***

Clark hadn’t expected the most pertinent question to be fired with such stark hostility. “No,” he said. “I didn’t kill Ms Drake.”

“Do you know how she died?”

“She was shot.”

“Who shot her?”

Lana? All Clark had was circumstantial evidence and speculation. “I don’t know.”

“Were you in your apartment when she was shot?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

Wolfe’s expression remained carefully deadpan, but a slight flutter of his eyelids hinted at his surprise at Clark’s answer. “Where were you between ten-fifty and eleven o’clock last night?”

“I wasn’t in my apartment. I left about ten-thirty.”

“We have eyewitnesses who place you in your apartment at the time of the murder.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“Where were you?”

“I was out.”

“Were you with someone?”

“No.”

“You were out? By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have anyone who can verify your whereabouts?”

“No.”

Disbelief permeated Wolfe’s mask of detachment.

Clark’s heart sank a little lower. He could see no way out. Even if he told them Lana had been in his apartment, it wasn’t going to prove he hadn’t been there.

The only way to do that was going to involve divulging a much bigger secret.

***

An amply proportioned lady who was probably in her late fifties opened the door. Her initial misgivings dissolved as she stared at Lois. “You’re ... you’re the reporter?” she said. “The one who works with Mr Kent?”

“Yes,” Lois said. “I’m Lois Lane.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to the young lady,” the woman said. “It was such a terrible shock.”

“Did you talk to the police?” Lois asked.

“Yes,” the woman said. “I thought –” She stopped abruptly and shook her head warily. “I’ve already made my statement. I don’t want to say anything else. Not to the newspapers.”

“Do you think Mr Kent killed the young woman?”

To Lois’s relief, the woman didn’t slam the door. “I wouldn’t have thought Mr Kent would do something like that,” she said slowly. “But I know what I saw.”

“And I believe you,” Lois said earnestly. “But I know Mr Kent really well, and I don’t think he could shoot anyone.”

“You’re a friend of Mr Kent’s? As well as working with him?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ve seen you visit him sometimes.”

“We’re friends.”

“Are you going to write a story about this? For the newspaper?”

“No. I’m trying to help Mr Kent.”

“The detective didn’t seem to think there was anything that could help him.”

“Would you mind telling me exactly what you saw?” Lois asked. “Would you mind going through it point by point?”

The woman took a moment to assess Lois. “You’re really trying to help Mr Kent?”

“Yes,” Lois said. “If he didn’t do this –”

“I only said what I saw,” the woman said, sounding defensive. “At first, I thought I was helping Mr Kent.”

“I’m not questioning your honesty,” Lois said. “And I want to make it clear that I’m not trying to persuade you to change your witness statement.”

“I wouldn’t do that, whatever you said,” the witness said staunchly.

Lois gave a hesitant smile. “I’d like to ask you a few questions — to find out exactly what you saw. Then perhaps we can work out what happened here. Would that be OK?”

***

Clark jolted his attention from Wolfe’s transparent condemnation.

Henderson’s eyes were cast low, and his face was a vacant veneer. The other cop stared back, his exasperation at enduring another improbable story clearly portrayed in the set of his face.

“When was the last time you saw Mayson Drake?” Wolfe asked. “Alive?”

“She came to my apartment last night.”

“What time?”

Clark thought back, mentally traversing the accumulation of interminable hours since he’d left the Planet office the previous evening. That had been at about half past nine. He’d walked home because he’d wanted to think about Lois. “About a quarter past ten,” he replied. “Maybe slightly earlier.”

“Did she enter your apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Was that a usual occurrence? Mayson coming to your apartment late at night?”

“She had been coming to my apartment recently.”

“So her visit was expected?”

“No. We hadn’t planned anything.”

“Her visit was unexpected?”

“In the sense that we hadn’t planned anything, yes, it was unexpected.”

“What did you argue about?”

“We didn’t argue.”

“What was she upset about?”

“She ... she had seemed interested in pursuing a closer friendship. I had been trying to tell her all week that I didn’t feel that way about her.”

“So you told her last night? And that upset her?”

“She realised the truth, and she was upset.” Clark held his breath, waiting for the question that would plunge Lana into this fiasco.

Henderson cleared his throat as if about to speak, but Wolfe ignored him. “Mayson Drake was a smart, beautiful woman. Why weren’t you interested in her?”

“I ... I ...” Clark faltered.

“Go on, Mr Kent,” Wolfe said.

***

The woman’s pause ended with a quick smile. “I’m Janey McCreadie,” she said.

“And you’ll help me, Mrs McCreadie?” Lois asked. “You’ll help Mr Kent?”

She nodded. “I heard the shot, and then I saw Mr Kent run away,” she said, her words coming in a gush as if from a ruptured dam. “I figured the blonde woman had to be the perpetrator and Mr Kent was trying to escape from her. I called 911. I watched the doorway the whole time because I was worried for Mr Kent’s safety.” Her hand floated across her mouth. “It never occurred to me that Mr Kent could have been the one who fired. He has always seemed like such a nice young man. I read his stories every day. I remember his first story. The one about the old lady and the theatre. It brought tears to my eyes. I thought he must be –”

“Can we go back to earlier in the evening?” Lois cut in. “Did you speak to Mr Kent last night?”

“Yes. I was coming home from the vet. It was about ten o’clock. We met outside his apartment. I told him about my cat, Pannikin, being so sick.” Mrs McCreadie glanced behind her, moving aside so Lois could see the pet basket near the window. “I asked him about his plans for the evening.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wasn’t expecting company. I came up to my apartment and put Pannikin in her basket. The poor creature was so sick that I sat right next to her.”

“Do you remember what Mr Kent was wearing at the time you spoke to him?”

Mrs McCreadie rubbed her temple. “Dark trousers. Blue, not black. A dark grey jacket. Dark pink shirt and a nice tie with flowers on it.”

For a member of the public, Mrs McCreadies’s memory for detail was phenomenal. “When you had settled Pannikin into her basket, you sat in the chair next to her?” Lois asked.

“Yes.”

“And watched out of the window?”

“It was past my normal bedtime. But I could never forgive myself if I had been asleep when Pannikin needed me. Watching the street below helped me stay alert.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw the blonde lady come. The lady who had been visiting Mr Kent a lot lately. The one who is now deceased.”

“Did she go into his apartment?”

“Yes. But the door was left open. I heard a lot of shouting.”

“Anything specific?”

Mrs McCreadie fidgeted with her door handle. “I heard the young woman accuse Mr Kent of cheating on her.”

“Have you ever seen any other women come to Mr Kent’s apartment?”

The woman gave a nervous smile. “You. But you haven’t been for a while.”

“I’ve been away,” Lois said. “You’ve never seen any other women visiting Mr Kent?”

“Only an older woman who mostly comes with a man. I figure they’re his parents.”

“But there was no one else?”

“No.”

“How long were you at the vet?”

“I left here ...” Mrs McCreadie frowned as she thought. “... about five o’clock, I think. Yes, that’s right. I caught the five-eighteen bus.”

“And you didn’t return until ten o’clock?”

“No. The vet wanted Pannikin to stay, but I couldn’t leave her.”

“What happened after the arguing stopped?”

“The blonde woman came out of the apartment. Mr Kent followed her and caught up to her. They had a quick conversation. She seemed agitated. After a few moments, she ran away. Mr Kent walked back to his apartment, entered, and shut the door.”

“Is it possible someone could have sneaked into the apartment while you were watching Mr Kent and the woman?”

Mrs McCreadie bit on her lower lip as she thought. “I suppose it is possible,” she said. “But they were only a few yards from the door. I can’t see how I could have missed someone entering the apartment.”

Lois was beginning to understand why Wolfe had felt confident to build his case on Mrs McCreadie’s testimony. She had exceptional clarity and could express herself clearly. “What happened then?”

***

“Mr Kent?” Wolfe prompted.

Clark hadn’t been able to find the words for Mayson. He had no choice but to find them now for the detective. “I didn’t love her.”

“Is there someone else?” Henderson asked from his position behind Wolfe.

“Yes,” Clark said.

“What happened after you told Mayson?” Wolfe said.

“She left. I followed her and tried to apologise.”

“Did she accept your apology?”

“She was still very upset.”

“She ran away from you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you follow her?”

“No. I went back to my apartment.”

“Did you threaten her?”

“No. I had no reason to threaten her.”

“Did she make any accusations?”

Clark quickly reviewed his conversation with Mayson. “She was upset that I hadn’t told her the truth earlier.”

“What truth?”

“That I didn’t love her. That I didn’t want a closer relationship with her.”

“She didn’t accuse you of cheating on her?”

“No.”

“What happened after you arrived back in your apartment?”

Should he mention Lana now? Or should he try to establish that he hadn’t been in his apartment at the time of the shooting? “I left about five minutes later.”

“Why?”

Because he’d heard a cry for help. “Because I wanted to think.”

“About Mayson?”

“About a lot of things.”

“Where did you go? What did you do?”

They’d reached the point where Clark had no answers. “I wandered around the city for a while.”

“See anyone?”

“I didn’t see anyone who could give me an alibi.”

“In a city of millions of people, not one person saw you?” Wolfe said, his scepticism sharpening the question. “Not one person could attest that you weren’t in your apartment?”

“No.” Because those who had seen him hadn’t realised they were looking at Clark Kent.

“Where did you go? Which streets?”

“I don’t remember which streets exactly,” Clark said, painfully aware that, although it was the truth, it sounded like a lie. “I wasn’t taking much notice.”

“You can’t remember one single street?”

“No.”

“Where were you at ten-fifty?”

“I wasn’t taking note of the time.”

The feeling of being helplessly trapped was growing more intense with each question. It was clear that Wolfe wasn’t buying the ‘I left my apartment’ story for a moment. A quick glance behind him told Clark that even Henderson found it implausible.

“You were seen running away from your apartment after the shot,” Wolfe said.

Comprehension thudded through Clark’s mind. When he’d seen Lana outside the police station, she had been wearing his clothes. His black leather jacket. And probably his jeans and tee shirt, too.

In the limited light, someone had assumed it had been him.

They thought Clark Kent was a killer.

And a coward.

***

“About half an hour later, the blonde woman returned,” Mrs McCreadie said. “She waited a few seconds at Mr Kent’s door and then went inside.”

“Did you see who opened the door for her?” Lois asked.

“No.”

“What happened then?”

“A few minutes later, I heard the shot.”

“Only one shot?”

“Yes.”

“Then what happened?”

“I waited. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to leave Pannikin.”

“Were you sure the shot had come from Mr Kent’s apartment?”

“Not at first. I didn’t know exactly where it had come from. But then I saw Mr Kent rush out from his door and run away.”

“How long after the shot was fired did the person leave Mr Kent’s apartment?”

“Two minutes. Maybe three.”

“Was it dark?”

“The street lights were on. The sidewalk is well lit at night.”

“Did you see his face?”

“No. I was above him. And he was wearing the baseball cap. The red one I’ve seen him wear before.”

“So the bill was forward? Over his face?”

“Yes.”

“What else was he wearing?”

“A black leather jacket. And jeans.”

“Sneakers?”

“I’m not sure of the type of shoes, but they were predominantly light in colour.”

If this case went to court, Mrs McCreadie would make an excellent witness. “Did he look up?”

“No. He didn’t stop. He sprinted along the sidewalk and then into the alley.”

“So you didn’t get a look at his face?” Lois persisted.

“No. It was shielded by the bill of the cap. And the collar of his jacket was pulled up.”

“What did you do then?”

“I called 911.”

“And the police came?”

“Yes. They came very quickly. Less than five minutes after I’d made the call.”

“And you watched the area while you waited for the police to come?”

“Yes. The whole time. Even when I was on the phone, I was standing at the window and watching. I thought she might come out of the door, and I wanted to see which way she headed so I could tell the police.”

***

“I didn’t run away,” Clark said. “I wasn’t there.”

“We have a witness who testifies that she saw you running away a couple of minutes after hearing the gunshot.”

“It wasn’t me.”

There was no inkling of belief in Wolfe’s expression. “Would you care to offer a suggestion as to who might have come from your apartment?”

Clark took a deep breath. “There was someone else in my apartment.”

“Really?” Wolfe asked with a discouraging lack of interest.

“Someone I knew in my home town. Her name is Lana Lang.” Her name caught in Clark’s throat, accentuating the feeling he had just unlocked a door and he had no control over what might crash through it.

“She was in your apartment when you left?” Wolfe asked.

“Yes.”

“When did she arrive at your apartment?”

“I don’t know. She was there when I arrived home.”

“Outside? Waiting for you?”

“No. She was inside my apartment.”

“Had you given her a key?”

“No.”

Wolfe’s eyebrows jumped a little. “She broke in?” he surmised.

“She knew where to find a key.”

“So you’re close to this woman?

“No. I hadn’t seen her in over a year.”

“But she knew the whereabouts of your key?”

Clark nodded. “It’s a Smallville thing,” he said in an explanation that sounded insipid in his own ears. “To leave a key under the mat.”

“And you do that here?” Wolfe gasped. “In Metropolis?”

“Yes,” Clark admitted, feeling his face flush.

Wolfe shook his head and then continued. “So this woman? This Lana Lang from Smallville, Kansas, entered your apartment, even though you weren’t there?”

“Yes.”

“What happened after you arrived home?”

“We talked.”

“About what?”

Should he mention the baby? “About old times.”

“Old times?”

“Lana and I dated in high school.”

“Did she say why she was chasing up an old boyfriend?”

“She ... she was interested in re-establishing our relationship.”

“Were you interested?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“There’s someone else.”

“You had three women wanting to be with you?” Wolfe’s question came loaded with derision.

“No,” Clark said sadly. “The third one is just a friend.”

***

“You didn’t think it was possible there could have been a third person in the apartment?” Lois asked.

“That occurred to me when the detective told me the blonde woman was dead,” Mrs McCreadie said. “But I had watched the door the entire time from the shot being fired until the police arrived, and other than Mr Kent, no one entered or left that apartment.”

Lois took the photograph of the Prada dress from her bag. “Have you ever seen this dress?” she asked.

Mrs McCreadie took the photograph and stared at it for a long time. Lois watched her face carefully, willing it to recognition. “Yesterday,” she said slowly.

“You’ve seen this dress?” Lois asked eagerly.

“Yesterday afternoon. I was calling the vet about Pannikin, and I happened to glance out of the window. I saw a woman wearing a dress just like this.”

“Was she near Mr Kent’s apartment?”

“She was walking the other way.”

“So away from his apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see if she had come from Mr Kent’s apartment?”

“No.”

“Did you see if she had knocked on his door?”

“No. I had been tending to Pannikin and only looked out of the window as I was calling the vet.”

“Do you remember what time this was?”

“About four-thirty.”

“Was the woman in the dress the same woman who had been visiting Mr Kent? The woman who was murdered?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure.”

“How were they different?”

“This woman had darker hair. It was straight, not curly like the woman who died.”

“Did this woman have long hair?”

“No. Collar length.”

“Last night, during the half an hour between when the victim left and when she returned, did anyone leave Mr Kent’s apartment?”

“No.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I was sitting next to the window the entire time. Four people walked by. None of them went into or out of Mr Kent’s apartment.”

“You’re sure? You didn’t leave to go to the bathroom? You didn’t answer the phone? You didn’t stand up to get something for Pannikin?”

“No. I was next to the window the entire time.”

Lois gave Mrs McCreadie a smile. “Thank you so much,” she said. “You’ve been really helpful.”

“I’d do anything to help Mr Kent,” Mrs McCreadie said. “He’s a wonderful neighbour. I feel so bad that I got him into trouble.”

“You only told the truth,” Lois said. “That’s what Mr Kent would expect you to do.”

Mrs McCreadie looked doubtful.

“Can I come back and talk to you again if I need to check something?” Lois asked.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Thank you.” Lois turned away.

“Ah ... Ms Lane?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think there’s a chance Mr Kent didn’t do this?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to prove it?”

“I won’t rest until I have.”

The woman smiled. “You’re a good friend. I figure poor Mr Kent needs good friends right now.”

Lois walked down the stairs, elation sparking through her veins.

Clark hadn’t been the person running away. The woman — the owner of the Prada dress and the La Roche-Posay cosmetics — had run away. She had been wearing Clark’s clothes. She’d taken off the dress, put on some of Clark’s clothes, and run away.

After shooting Mayson.

Clark hadn’t done it.

And Lois was halfway to proving it.

***

“Was this Lana Lang in your apartment when Mayson Drake arrived?” Wolfe said.

“Yes.”

“Did they speak?”

“Yes.”

“Did Lana Lang tell Mayson that she, Lana, wanted to resume her relationship with you?”

“Yes.”

“Was that when Mayson accused you of cheating on her?”

“Mayson and I weren’t in a relationship.”

“She thought you were.”

“She didn’t accuse me of cheating on her.” Seeing the scepticism inscribed on Wolfe’s face, Clark added, “Lana did.”

Clark sensed a rustle of surprise in the three cops, but he wasn’t sure if it were a positive development or not. “How did Mayson take that?” Wolfe asked.

“She was upset. She ran out. I followed her and tried to tell her I hadn’t known Lana was in Metropolis.”

“We’ve already been through this, Mr Kent.” Wolfe’s tone was becoming impatient now. “Except last time, you neglected to mention the important detail that a third person was in your apartment.”

“You didn’t ask me,” Clark said, trying to squeeze all indignation from his tone.

“What was she wearing?” Henderson asked from his position behind Wolfe.

Clark scanned his mind, finding no memory of Lana’s outfit. “Ah … a dress, I think.” A couple of fragments floated back. “Yes. It was white. She said it was French.”

Henderson glanced to Wolfe. The latter kept his gaze firmly on Clark as he continued. “Why didn’t you tell us about this woman earlier? You must have realised that the presence of a third person in your apartment could be very convenient in your current predicament.”

Wolfe’s sarcasm stung. As Clark had feared, his credibility had eroded away. “When I left my apartment, Lana was there. According to what you’ve told me, Mayson was shot a short time later.”

“Are you saying you believe Lana Lang killed Mayson?”

“I wasn’t there,” Clark said. “But the circumstances seem to indicate she could know what happened to Mayson.”

“When you left — because you needed to ‘think’ — you left your guest alone in your apartment?”

“Yes.”

“A guest comes from you home town, and you leave her alone?”

“She ... I needed some time alone.”

“You said before you needed to think about ‘a lot of things’. Did this include Ms Lang?”

“Yes.”

“Were you interested in resuming your relationship with her?”

“No.”

“Then why not just tell her that?”

“She ... she told me she is pregnant.”

Wolfe’s eyebrows jumped. “Your child?”

“No. Before last night, I hadn’t seen her for over a year.”

“She wanted a relationship with you despite being pregnant with another man’s child?”

“Yes. That is what she said.”

“Mr Kent,” Wolfe said in a tone laden with cynicism, “that seems illogical.”

Clark agreed. But he said nothing.

“Did it take you all night to come up with a story that is basically a copy of the situation with Mayson?” Wolfe asked. “Oh, plus a baby for good measure.”

The knots in Clark’s stomach tightened further as he waited for Wolfe to expand.

He did. “You say Mayson was interested in a relationship with you. Her sister confirms that. You say you had been trying to tell her all week that you weren’t interested. Now, suddenly, there is a second woman who is also interested in a relationship with you, and you were also trying to tell her you’re not interested. For someone whose profession is writing, that’s not terribly imaginative, Mr Kent.”

“That’s what happened.”

“To be clear, when you left your apartment last night, Mayson wasn’t there and Lana Lang was?”

“That is correct.”

“You were seen entering your apartment after chasing Mayson. No one left your apartment until after the gunshot.”

“I wasn’t there when Mayson was shot.”

“I figure you’d like us to believe it was Lana Lang dressed up as you?” Wolfe said. “And you’d further like us to believe you can slip out of a door without being seen?”

“The last time I saw Lana, she was wearing my leather jacket.”

“She was wearing your leather jacket? Or you were?”

“She was.”

Wolfe shuffled in his chair. “Why did it take you seven hours to report to the station? Where were you? And what were you doing all night?”

“I was trying to sort out my life.”

“But not with anyone?”

“No. In my own mind.”

“Does ‘sorting out your life’ include deciding the best way to dodge a murder charge?”

***

Back on the sidewalk, Lois didn’t have to wait long for someone to emerge from Mrs McCreadie’s apartment building. With the photograph of the Prada dress in her hand, Lois eagerly approached the young stylishly dressed woman. “Would you mind looking at this photo and telling me if you recognise it?” she asked with a smile.

The woman stopped. “Ah ...”

“It’s just a photo of a dress,” Lois said. “You’re the perfect person to ask. I can see that you’ve got a great eye for fashion.”

The woman didn’t respond to the compliment, but she took the photo. “Yes,” she said after a quick glance. “There was a woman here yesterday, wearing a dress just like that. Is it Prada?”

“Yes,” Lois said, infusing admiration into her tone. “You’re sure you saw a dress just like this?”

“Yes. I noticed it because the woman wasn’t wearing a jacket or a sweater, and I thought she should be feeling cold.”

“When did you see her?”

The woman considered for a moment. “Early evening,” she said. “About seven o’clock.”

“What was she doing?”

“Walking.”

“Which direction?”

“That way,” she said, pointing towards Clark’s apartment.

“Did you see where she went?”

“No. I was late for my bus.”

“Could you describe the woman wearing this dress?”

“Ah ... about my age. Short dark hair.”

“Was she overweight?”

“Not noticeably. Why?”

“The dress is quite loose-fitting.”

“I didn’t notice it being overly big on her — flowing, but not hanging like a sack.”

“Anything else you noticed about her? What about her shoes? High heels?”

“No. She was wearing saddle shoes. Black and white. With red soles. I remember thinking they were totally unsuited to the dress.”

Saddle shoes. Predominantly white. Flat heels. Running would have been possible. “Anything else you noticed?” Lois asked.

The woman shook her head.

“Was she carrying anything?”

“Just a handbag. I didn’t recognise the brand.”

“Was it a large bag?”

“No. Quite small.” She held her hand about eight inches apart to demonstrate.

“Do you live around here?”

The woman paused, looking unsure.

“I’m Lois Lane,” Lois said. “I’m a reporter from the Daily Planet.”

“Oh,” the woman said. “I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen the posters.”

“Would you mind giving me your name?”

“Are you going to print this in the newspaper?”

“I won’t print anything without checking with you first,” Lois said. “But for that, I need to know how to contact you.”

“OK,” the woman said. “My name is Caitlyn Osborne. I live in apartment 307 in that building.”

“Would you be willing to make a statement to the police?”

Her mouth dropped. “This involves the police? Was the dress stolen?”

“No. Nothing like that,” Lois said. “But the police are involved, and they’re probably going to want to talk to you.”

“Is this about that murder that was supposed to have happened last night? In the end apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Is she dead? The woman who was wearing the Prada dress?”

“No.”

“You think she did it?” Caitlyn gasped.

“I’m still investigating.”

“Will I have to go to court?”

“I don’t know,” Lois said. “But all you have to say is that you saw a woman wearing this dress yesterday.” She smiled. “That wouldn’t be too hard, would it?”

“I suppose not,” the woman said.

“Thank you, Caitlyn,” Lois said. “You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

As Caitlyn Osborne walked away, Lois saw two men walking along the sidewalk. She chose the younger, went up to him, and showed him the photograph. He said he’d never seen a dress like that before. He also said he didn’t usually come this way, but was taking a shortcut to his office because of the closure of some of the subway trains.

Lois asked two other woman as they walked by, but neither recognised the dress. Deciding she had enough to take to the police, Lois hailed a cab.

As the cab crawled through the early-morning traffic, Lois pressed her exhausted body into the seat.

Clark hadn’t killed Mayson.

The other woman had done it. The woman in the Prada dress.

What was Clark’s relationship with that woman?

Did he love her?

Why had the woman shot Mayson?

Jealousy?

Because it was hard to imagine a woman loved by Clark Kent would feel the need to resort to murder to keep his affections.

Was that where Clark had been all night? With her? Trying to talk her into giving herself up?

And, when she’d refused, he’d gone to the police himself?

Why?

To proclaim her innocence?

To proclaim his own innocence?

Or did the Clark Kent Martyr Syndrome stretch far enough that he would take the rap for a murder he hadn’t committed?

Did he love her that much?

Clark couldn’t kill — Lois had never wavered in believing that. But, as her thoughts crystallised now, she realised that Clark was naturally inclined to protect those who were important to him.

Even when that person had done something wrong.

How many times had he been there for her after she’d done something stupid?

Like walking down the aisle to marry Luthor.

Clark wouldn’t kill. But he would try to help the woman he loved — even if she’d made a horrible mistake.

Maybe his love for her was so great that he was more concerned about her welfare than his reputation.

But Lois didn’t share that concern.

She wasn’t going to allow him to be charged with something he hadn’t done.

Whatever the nature of his relationship with the Prada woman.

Part 9

The words ‘murder charge’ seemed to resonate around the small room, contaminating the silence. Clark stared at the tape recorder, watching mindlessly as the little spindles rotated, feeling more helpless than he ever had when facing kryptonite. “No,” he said. “That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

His dispirited denial thudded against the cordon of disbelief that was closing around him.

It was Henderson who broke the silence. “Where can we find Lana Lang?” he asked.

Clark wondered idly if he had imagined a wisp of hope in the detective’s question. “I don’t know,” he replied, not lifting his eyes from the tape recorder.

“You said she’s from Smallville,” Henderson said. “Where is she staying in Metropolis?”

“She said her intention was to stay in my apartment.”

Wolfe snatched back the baton. “So you have no idea where she is or where we could find her?”

“She could be watching the Daily Planet building.”

“Because you work there?”

“No. Because Lois Lane works there.”

Henderson leaned forward. “What does Lois have to do with this?”

Clark had to tell them about Lana’s threat to hurt Lois. He doubted they would believe him. He’d left it too late. It was going to sound like just another feeble attempted diversion from a desperate, guilty man. “Lana said she would hurt Lois.”

“Because of your association with Lois?” Henderson said.

“Yes.”

Wolfe pushed back a few inches, the legs of his chair scraping discordantly on the wooden floor. “Are you trying to suggest motive?” he said. “Or trying to subtly plant the idea that Lana Lang is capable of violence?”

“I’m telling the truth –”

“You have no way to corroborate your ‘there was a woman in my apartment’ story?”

“No.”

“No way to prove this woman exists beyond your imagination?”

“Everyone in Smallville knows her.”

“Does everyone in Smallville know she was in your apartment yesterday?”

“No.”

“Did anyone see her in your apartment?”

Mayson had, but mentioning that was only going to aggravate Wolfe further.

The homicide detective leant forward. “Mr Kent ... Clark ... you do realise the seriousness of this matter? You do realise you could be charged with murder?”

Clark lifted his head, crashing into eyes that were filled with a stinging mix of condemnation and earnest appeal. “Yes,” he said. “I realise that.”

“And you know that your vague answers and half replies aren’t helping your cause?”

Clark’s eyes dropped back to the table as he nodded.

“I want detail,” Wolfe said forcefully. “I want to know exactly where you were last night. Starting at ten-thirty, the time you claim you left your apartment and finishing at six-nineteen this morning when you walked into the station.”

“I’ve answered your questions,” Clark said.

“No,” Wolfe snapped. “You’ve told us where you weren’t and what you didn’t do.”

Wolfe was right. Skirting around questions was only going to take him so far ... probably to the nearest cell. “I’m not legally required to answer your questions,” Clark said.

From behind Wolfe, Henderson’s head dropped. Wolfe’s taut expression didn’t falter. “Who told you about Ms Drake’s death?”

“I can’t say,” Clark said, his lungs constricting as if he’d been pushed into an ocean of kryptonite and he was slowly drowning.

“Did Superman tell you about the death? Or did you tell him?”

Clark had no answer to push back the oppressive silence.

“Did Superman take you somewhere to prevent us from arresting you?”

Clark’s denial rose in instinctive defence of Superman’s reputation. Except if Clark Kent was found guilty of murder, there would be no Superman. “He didn’t take me anywhere.”

“Would you lie to protect a friend?”

Would he lie to protect someone he loved? Like Lois? Would he, as Superman? Would he, as Clark? Clark lied a little every time he reported on Superman’s activities using the third person. “That would depend on why they needed me to lie for them,” he said.

“Would you lie to protect a friend who had tried to help you escape from the consequences of your actions?”

He couldn’t say ‘yes’. He couldn’t say ‘no’. “I’m not in that situation.”

“Here’s what I think happened,” Wolfe said, his tone twisting to blandly conversational. “I think you were in your apartment when Ms Drake returned. She was angry. Perhaps she threatened to make public your affair with another woman. For whatever reason — perhaps the other woman is married, perhaps she’s a celebrity or has a public profile — you couldn’t allow that to happen. So you panicked. Things got out of control, and you shot Mayson. You ran away. You called on Superman, and he took you away from Metropolis. Then, before you could decide what to do next, he heard about the subway collapse. He left you in your hiding place — affording you ample time to think — and came back to Metropolis to spend the next several hours saving hundreds of lives.

“As soon as he’d finished in the subway, I brought him to the station, although he, like you, was disinclined to give me straight answers. However, my questions alerted him to the fact that your continuing absence was damaging his reputation, so he returned to you, and together, you concocted a story about a woman having been in your apartment.”

Wolfe’s story was a blend of half-truths and falsehood. Clark grasped that which was refutable. “I wasn’t having an affair with anyone,” he said. “I’m not in a relationship. I didn’t cheat on anyone. I wasn’t in my apartment when Ms Drake returned. And I didn’t kill her.”

Henderson stood and took a step forward. “Clark?” he said. “We can’t help you if you don’t help us.”

Clark bit back his retort — that they had settled on the identity of the murderer within moments of finding Mayson’s body — and fixed his gaze on his interwoven fingers as the benumbing sludge rose higher, sucking him further into its mire.

“We have established opportunity,” Wolfe said. “We have motive. We have witness statements. You have no alibi. You have no proof that you weren’t present when Ms Drake was murdered. You have given us nothing to doubt our case against you.”

“Are you going to arrest me?” Clark asked.

“Yes.”

With that one word, his life as Clark Kent had gone. His job, his reputation — they wouldn’t survive this, even if he found a lawyer who could whip up enough doubt to avoid a guilty verdict.

And as for Lois ... after the Luthor debacle, she was going to wonder if anyone could be trusted.

A tap sounded on the door. Henderson reached over to open it. A uniformed cop stood there.

“Interview suspended at seven-oh-twelve,” Wolfe said. He stopped the recording and looked expectantly at cop in the doorway.

“There’s someone who would like to see you, Detective Wolfe.”

“Whoever it is, get rid of him.”

“It’s about your current case. And she’s female.”

“Perhaps it’s the enigmatic Lana Lang,” Wolfe said with cutting derision. “You come with me, Henderson.” He headed for the door, glancing over his shoulder at the third cop. “You stay here.”

Wolfe and Henderson left the room. The door shut.

Clark avoided looking at the cop.

Wolfe wasn’t going to give up until he had answers. The only answers Clark had were swathed in secrecy.

Wolfe had already tied Clark and Superman together as joint culprits. Revealing that Clark Kent and Superman were one and the same would give Clark an explanation for his non-attendance at the police station throughout the night hours, but it wasn’t going to prove that Clark Kent hadn’t shot Mayson Drake.

It would only identify Superman as being a murderer, too.

He was jammed into a corner.

And, as far as Clark could see, there was no way out.

***

Henderson wasn’t particularly surprised when they entered the last of the interview rooms and found Lois Lane waiting for them. Wolfe didn’t seem surprised, either, but he didn’t make any effort to hide his annoyance. “We are conducting a murder investigation,” he said.

“And I’m here to stop you from charging an innocent man,” Lois retorted.

Wolfe released a gush of impatience. “Let me guess. You’ve conjured Lana Lang out of your bag of reporter tricks.”

“If you’re talking about the third person in Clark’s apartment, then I haven’t found her, but I’m so glad you’ve finally managed to uncover her involvement in this mess,” Lois said. She glanced at Henderson. “Did you tell him about the dress?”

“I mentioned it briefly.”

“It wasn’t two people at all,” Lois stated.

Henderson held his breath, sure that Wolfe would respond to Lois’s obvious disdain with a stinging reply. Instead, he said, “What do you have?”

“I assume you asked the witness what Clark was wearing when she thought she saw him run from his apartment?” Lois said, retreating to a much more conciliatory tone. “After the shot was fired?”

“Obviously, we did,” Wolfe said dryly.

“Jeans. Black leather jacket. Red baseball cap,” Lois supplied.

Wolfe nodded his agreement.

“You have Clark here?” Lois said.

“Yes.”

“What is he wearing?”

“Excuse me?” Wolfe exploded.

“What is he wearing?” Lois repeated. “Jeans? Black leather jacket? Red baseball cap?”

“No,” Wolfe said with sizzling impatience. “But it’s not difficult to explain the difference. Sometime during the night, he found a moment to change. He had hours to do it, and he must know that turning up in those exact clothes would be tantamount to admitting guilt.”

“So you have doubts about his guilt?” Lois asked quickly.

“No.”

Lois took her cell phone from her bag and punched in some numbers. “Perry,” she said a few seconds later. “What was Clark wearing yesterday?”

Henderson heard Perry White’s squeak of surprise at the question.

“Think back, Perry,” Lois said. “It’s important.” She nodded as she listened. When she hung up, she looked at them with triumph. “Navy pants. Charcoal jacket. Crimson shirt. Crimson tie with a big white daisy in the middle.”

Wolfe stared at Lois, unmoving.

“That’s what he’s wearing now, right?” Lois said.

“What if he is?” Wolfe said.

“The witness says the person who ran from Clark’s apartment after Mayson was killed was wearing a black leather jacket, jeans, and a red baseball cap,” Lois said. “So if that person was Clark, he had to have been carrying his current clothes with him.”

Wolfe plonked his hands on his hips and said nothing.

“Because we know he couldn’t have gotten back into his apartment to get those clothes — you had his apartment guarded.”

Wolfe tapped the floor with his foot.

“Did the witness mention anything about the fleeing person carrying a bundle of clothes?”

“No,” Wolfe said. “But I didn’t ask.”

“Perhaps you should.”

Henderson held his breath, expecting an outburst from Wolfe, but it didn’t come. “Superman could have flown into Kent’s apartment and retrieved his clothes,” Wolfe said.

“Then Clark’s current clothes would have been in his apartment when your forensic team was there,” Lois said. “Was there anything in the report about worn clothing?”

“No.”

“How detailed were they?”

“It’s a murder case.”

“Would they have noted all the clothes in his closet?”

“They took extensive photos.”

“In the closet?”

“Yes,” Wolfe said. “It could have been important. There were cosmetics in the bathroom, but only one piece of female apparel in the closet. We surmised that Mayson was in the process of moving in. At that early stage of the investigation, it could have been important with regard to motive.”

“Now it’s important for an entirely new reason,” Lois said. “Because in your scenario, the navy pants and charcoal jacket should have been in Clark’s apartment when the forensic team was there.”

“There was a period of about ten minutes from the shot being fired to the time I arrived at the murder scene,” Wolfe said. “That’s long enough for Kent to have contacted Superman. And more than enough time for Superman to interfere with the evidence.”

“Just before eleven last night, right?” Lois said. “Superman was with me for some of that time.”

“That’s convenient,” Wolfe said, his cynicism spitting like oil in fire.

“He was,” Lois said. “He left a few minutes before eleven.

Wolfe’s eyebrow stretched higher.

“After he’d gone, I called Clark, but he didn’t answer,” Lois continued. “I remember checking the time. It was just before eleven, and I decided it was too late to wait a few minutes and try again.”

“Lois, you can’t just make up something because it suits –”

“Check my phone records.”

“That will prove you tried to call Kent,” Wolfe said. “It won’t prove Superman was –”

“Why would Superman get those particular clothes?” Lois said. “Why not jeans and a sweater?”

“Probably because he knew what we would find if the forensic team tested them.”

“There was a two to three minute gap between the shot and the person running away from Clark’s apartment,” Lois said. “Time for the murderer to change into the jeans and leather jacket. You have the Prada dress. Take Clark’s jacket and tie. See which set of clothing was being worn when Mayson died.”

Wolfe scowled as he scratched his neck.

“If Clark had changed, there should be a leather jacket, a pair of jeans, and a red cap somewhere in the vicinity of his apartment. Have you found them?”

“No.”

“Did you look?”

“Looking would be a waste of time if Superman –”

“What is your fixation with Superman?” Lois cried in exasperation.

“He and Kent are friends.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s OK to use Superman to cover the holes in your case.”

Henderson held his breath again, but Wolfe only sighed. “Tell me what you think happened.”

“I have a witness saying a woman wearing a Prada dress and saddle shoes was near Clark’s apartment at seven-thirty last night.”

“Mrs McCreadie?” Wolfe questioned.

“No. Another witness — someone who lives in the same building as Mrs McCreadie.”

“Mrs McCreadie didn’t say anything about seeing another woman near Clark’s apartment.”

“That’s because Mrs McCreadie was at the vet then.”

Wolfe nodded in silent encouragement to continue.

“I think the Prada woman let herself into Clark’s apartment.”

“How could she have done that?” Wolfe said.

“He keeps a key under his mat.”

Wolfe raised his hands in frustration. “Doesn’t anyone know this city’s burglar stats are horrendous?” he said.

“She let herself in,” Lois continued. “She waited for Clark to come home. Clark came home, wearing the clothes he had worn to work. Mayson came. Mayson saw the Prada woman in Clark’s apartment, which is how she concluded that Clark was cheating on her. She got upset and left. Clark followed her. She ran away from him. Clark returned to his apartment. The Prada woman was still there.” Lois eyed Wolfe steadily. “Then Clark left, still wearing the clothes he had worn all day.”

“Mrs McCreadie said no one left Kent’s apartment during that time.”

“No,” Lois corrected. “She said she didn’t see anyone leave Clark’s apartment. But half an hour passed between Mayson’s two visits. Mrs McCreadie could have been attending to her cat. She could have been in the bathroom. She could have dozed off.”

Wolfe nodded in unwilling acceptance.

“When Mayson returned, there were two people in Clark’s apartment,” Lois said with a pointed look at Henderson. “You were right about that. But it wasn’t Clark and Mayson; it was the Prada woman and Mayson. The Prada woman obviously has some connection to Clark, and Mayson was interested in him, too — something happened between them. Mayson was shot.”

“Go on,” Wolfe said.

“The Prada woman quickly changed out of the dress and into some of Clark’s clothes — his leather jacket and a baseball cap. She left her dress in his closet. She hurried away from the apartment. Mrs McCreadie saw her and assumed it was Clark. It’s a reasonable mistake. It was dark, the person was wearing Clark’s clothes, coming from Clark’s apartment, and the bill of the baseball cap would have shielded her face.”

“Kent is a tall man,” Wolfe said. His tone had morphed from blatant scepticism to reluctant consideration. “The dress doesn’t suggest the woman is overly big.”

“Height can be difficult to determine from above,” Lois said.

Wolfe glared at the floor for a moment. “Do you know the identity of this woman?” he asked as he lifted his head.

“I didn’t until you made the comment about me conjuring Lana Lang.”

“Kent hasn’t mentioned her to you?”

“No. But I haven’t seen Clark for a week. I’ve been away from Metropolis, visiting my mother.”

Henderson and Lois watched Wolfe as indecision carved across his face.

“Would you consider releasing Clark?” Lois asked with more meekness than Henderson had ever expected to hear from her.

“He’s a suspect in a murder case,” Wolfe said brusquely.

“But he’s not the only suspect,” she said. “And your most important piece of evidence — the witness statement that is the crux of your case — could be mistaken identity. You have another line of inquiry — the Prada dress. If it has gunshot residue –”

“By Kent’s own admission, he has no alibi,” Wolfe said. “Nothing you’ve said justifies how long it took him to come to the station. You haven’t explained how he managed to stay hidden when every cop in the city was looking for him.”

“Most cops in the city were helping with the subway collapse,” Lois said. “Clark could have been anywhere else and it’s not improbable that no one saw him.”

“Why didn’t he come to the station as soon as he heard about Mayson?” Wolfe said.

“Because he knew she’d been killed in his apartment and he knew the Prada woman had been there. He was probably searching for her.”

“Then why didn’t he say that?” Wolfe demanded.

Lois chuckled grimly. “Because he’s Clark Kent.”

“So?”

“So he’s trying to protect her.”

“You think he would protect a murder suspect?”

Lois’s little lift of her eyebrow told Henderson she hadn’t missed the subtle shift indicated in Wolfe’s question. “If he wasn’t in his apartment at the time the shot was fired, he wouldn’t know for sure how Mayson died,” she said. “But it is very in-character for Clark to try to protect someone who could be innocent.”

The silence came again. Lois waited, watching Wolfe’s face.

“OK,” he said suddenly. “I’ll fingerprint him, take his jacket and tie for testing, and let him go.” He pointed a long finger at Lois. “This is highly unorthodox. I’m only doing this because I know both of you. I want you to give me your word that you’ll stay with him. When I need to speak to him again, I want to be able to contact him immediately.”

Lois nodded earnestly. “I’ll take him to my apartment,” she said. “You have my number.”

Wolfe turned to Henderson. “Take her and get a list of her witnesses and a description of the Prada woman.”

Henderson nodded.

Wolfe took a step away, but then swung around to face Lois. “Answer one question for me,” he said.

“OK.”

“How does a man with such appalling taste in ties manage to have three women chasing after him?”

Lois looked genuinely surprised. “Who’s the third?” she asked.

Wolfe lifted his hands in acceptance that understanding was beyond him and strode away.

Henderson leant close to Lois. “You really don’t know the identity of the third woman?” he murmured.

He’d half-expected her to respond with a knowing smile, but any trace of light-heartedness was smothered by her concern. “How is Clark?” she said as they began walking towards Henderson’s office.

“Despondent. It would be easy to believe he has given up.”

“But he denied it?” Lois said. “He denied killing Mayson?”

“Yes,” Henderson said. “But other than that, he’s done nothing to defend himself. Wolfe is sure he’s hiding something.”

“Maybe he is,” Lois said. “But it’s not that he killed Mayson. Even Wolfe is starting to see that.”

She sounded as if she believed that finding Lana Lang would magically dispel all the accusations levelled at Clark. Henderson wasn’t so sure.

Wolfe was good at what he did. Allowing Clark to leave did not necessarily indicate the detective was backing away from his suspicions. In Henderson’s estimation, Wolfe was more likely to be employing another strategy in the hope of uncovering the truth of how Mayson had met her death.

Did Lois know about Lana Lang’s alleged threats against her? “Have you spoken with Superman today?” Henderson asked casually as they approached his office.

“No,” Lois replied. “I saw him for a few seconds after he’d finished the rescue at Northwood, but Wolfe took him away before he could speak with the reporters.”

“And you haven’t seen Clark?”

“No,” she said with a hint of impatience. “I already told you that.”

They arrived at his office, and Henderson opened the door, allowing Lois to enter first. “You’ll stay with Clark?” he said. “After you leave here?”

The look she sent him held more than a hint of impatience. “Yes. I already told you that, too.”

So if the threats were real, Clark would tell her. Perhaps that was the reason for Wolfe’s change of tactic — the hope that Clark would be more forthcoming to Lois than he’d been in the interview room.

Lois settled into the guest chair. “Did you ask Clark about the presence of the other woman?” she said.

“I tried to,” Henderson said. “But Wolfe wasn’t in any mood to tolerate interruptions to the flow of his questions.”

“So Clark admitted she was there?”

“Eventually.”

“But he did it reluctantly? Right?”

“Yes.”

“Did his reluctance increase Wolfe’s suspicions?”

“Yes.” Henderson picked up his pen, and then looked up, wanting to catch her reaction to his next statement. “Lois, this is a long way from over.”

She didn’t flinch. “When we find Lana Lang, we’ll get the answers we need to solve the case. Finding the real murderer will prove Clark’s innocence.”

“If he has been trying to protect Lana Lang, he could face a charge of obstruction.”

“Not if he wasn’t there. Whatever he told you would be speculation.”

“Lois … it would be in Clark’s best interests if you were to persuade him to tell us the whole truth.”

“If Wolfe is releasing Clark because he thinks I’ll conduct his investigation for him, he’s going to be very disappointed,” Lois said sharply.

“Don’t tell me you won’t be asking Clark questions.”

“Of course, I will,” she said. “But I will be approaching it from the perspective that Clark didn’t kill Mayson. I’ll be looking for alternative possibilities that fit the evidence.”

“You think the Prada woman did it?”

“That’s how it looks to me,” Lois said. “But being the most obvious suspect shouldn’t be enough to get you charged with murder.”

“You know Wolfe has more than that, Lois,” Henderson said with mild reproof. “Starting with why it took Clark so long to get to the station.”

“I think he was looking for Lana Lang.”

“Then why were both Clark and Superman so cagey about their exact whereabouts in the time following Mayson’s death?”

“Perhaps Clark called Superman, and they searched together. Clark wouldn’t ask Superman to help him escape justice, but he might ask Superman to help someone he loves.”

“You think Clark loves this woman?” Henderson asked in surprise.

“Makes sense to me.”

It didn’t make sense to Henderson. Clark had said he hadn’t been interested in a relationship with either Mayson or Lana Lang. He’d admitted there was someone else. And Henderson was sure that woman was sitting on the other side of his desk.

But apparently, Lois Lane — the most intuitive and brilliant reporter he knew — was oblivious.

Clark had said they were only friends. But he hadn’t seen the way she’d championed his cause and vehemently proclaimed his innocence.

Perhaps if he had …

Except, the possibility still existed that, despite all of Lois’s efforts, Clark would be charged with murder. If that were to happen, it might be best if they both believed the almost-tangible bond between them amounted to nothing more than friendship.

“What do you know about this Lana Lang?” Lois asked. “What else did Clark say about her?”

Henderson tapped his pen on his desk, hoping it would serve as a reminder that he was supposed to be asking the questions. “She’s from Smallville. Apparently, she’s a former girlfriend.”

Lois’s reaction to that piece of information was minimal — and the little that leaked was quickly shut down. “Well, it’s obvious they have some sort of relationship,” she said airily. “Her cosmetics were in his bathroom.”

“Do you think she will try to contact Clark?” Henderson asked.

“Maybe,” Lois said. “But I’m going to take him to my apartment, so unless she’s stalking him, she won’t be able to find him.”

Henderson re-jigged his thoughts. Perhaps Lois wasn’t so blind. “Why do you want to keep them apart? Wouldn’t finding Lana help substantiate Clark’s story?”

“I’m not going to allow Clark to go down for something he didn’t do,” Lois said as she took her notepad from her bag.

Henderson pointed his pen at Lois. “Don’t disappear,” he warned. “It might seem like a great idea to run off and solve the case, but Wolfe is not someone to mess with.”

A tiny smile erupted from her seriousness. “Clark didn’t kill Mayson,” she said. “I know he didn’t. You suspect he didn’t. And even Wolfe has his doubts.”

“I need names and contact details of your witnesses,” Henderson said. “And a description of the woman in the Prada dress.”

He took down her information, marvelling that she’d managed to infuse doubt into a case that had seemed about as open and shut as a murder case could be.

If he’d been a betting man, his money would be on Lois Lane finding a way to prove that Clark Kent had not shot Mayson Drake.

Heck, as much as Wolfe was loath to admit it, she was already halfway there.

***

The door opened, and Clark felt his body tense.

This was it. He was about to be arrested. Soon after that, he expected to be charged.

Wolfe, his face frozen to blank, walked in, closed the door, and sat down. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the table. He lowered his head and scratched his temple. Then his head shot up, and he pinned Clark with a long look.

“Did you kill Mayson Drake?” he said.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Do you know the whereabouts of Lana Lang?”

“No.”

The detective lurched forward. “OK,” he said. “You agree to be fingerprinted ... you agree to give me your jacket and tie for forensic analysis ... you agree to stay in Metropolis where I can contact you ... and I let you go until I’ve had some time to investigate your claims.”

“What?” Clark gasped.

“You heard me.”

“Why do you want my fingerprints?” Clark asked, managing to eke a question from the fog of his confusion.

“To eliminate yours from the prints we took at your apartment. If the woman, Lana Lang, was there, we need to isolate her prints.”

Was Wolfe backing away from his earlier allegations? Or was this a strategy to get Clark to talk? “I’d prefer not to be fingerprinted,” he said.

“OK,” Wolfe said nonchalantly. “I’ll arrest you, and you can wait in a cell while I look into some new developments.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Clark asked.

“Of course not,” Wolfe said calmly. “I’m covering my back. I have a solid case against you. I’ve received new information that could introduce doubt. I need time to investigate. If you’re willing to cooperate, we can be reasonable. If you’re not willing to cooperate, I have no choice but to keep you in custody.” His face darkened. “Which, considering your association with Superman, is entirely vindicated.”

“He wouldn’t help anyone escape justice,” Clark said.

Wolfe shrugged. “So which is it? The cell for a few hours? Or release?”

“I ...” Clark really didn’t want his fingerprints on file.

Wolfe stood. “OK.” He turned to the other cop. “Can you escort Mr Kent to the holding cell?” He opened the door. “And tell Ms Lane that Mr Kent has decided he prefers our company to hers.”

“Ms Lane?” Clark choked.

Wolfe slowly faced Clark. “Yes. Lois Lane.”

Did Lois have anything to do with Wolfe’s change of tactics? Had she been the female whose arrival had interrupted their interview? “She’s here?” Clark asked.

“She’s waiting for you. I’ll tell her you won’t be –”

“I’ll give you the fingerprints,” Clark said.

Wolfe nodded. “Come with me.”

Clark stood as hope spread fresh energy through his body. Lois was here. She’d come to him. Somehow, she managed to shake Wolfe’s convictions.

But it didn’t change that when Mayson had died, Clark Kent hadn’t been anywhere.

For now, that didn’t matter.

Lois was here.

Clark followed Wolfe out of the interview room and looked around for Lois. He couldn’t see her. He focussed his hearing.

And there it was. Her heartbeat.

The fingerprinting process passed in a daze. When it was done, Wolfe said to him, “I know you’re hiding something, Kent. If you’re hiding the fact that you pulled the trigger that killed Ms Drake, I won’t rest until you’re charged and convicted.”

Clark decided it would be wisest to say nothing. He loosened his tie and gave it and his jacket to Wolfe.

“You can go,” Wolfe said as he took the items of clothing. “For now.”

Clark stepped out of the room and into the long corridor. Half a dozen steps later, a door opened behind him. He turned.

Lois stepped out.

Saw him.

Stopped.

Gave a little smile.

Then broke into a run, hurtling towards him.

Before he’d taken his next breath, she was in his arms. Clark held her, breathing in her presence, letting her Loisness soak into him like sweet rain on the desert floor.

He had missed her so much.

She drew back. Her arms slid from around his neck. She looked into his face with a faltering smile. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Fifteen minutes ago, Clark had thought he might never be all right again. But now ... “Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you for coming.”

Her smiled gained a little more strength. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you here, did you? You’re my partner, remember?”

Her partner. And friend. Right now, he needed friends, but that didn’t soothe the ache in his heart that they would only ever be friends.

“Let’s go,” Lois said, stepping away from him.

“Where are we going?”

“To my apartment.”

“Wolfe said I had to stay in contact.”

“He has my number,” Lois said as she began walking down the corridor. “I told Henderson you would stay with me.”

Clark fell into step beside her, feeling as if he were trapped in a dream. They passed the front desk, and the dream quickly became a nightmare when he looked through the glass doors and saw a crowd of people congregated there.

“Who are they?” he murmured to Lois, dropping close to her ear.

“I don’t know,” she said. “They weren’t here when I arrived.”

The sliding doors opened, and Lois and Clark walked through the doorway. The cries — full of anger and indignation — hit him like a wall of sound.

Many of them were holding up newspapers. He recognised the nameplate. The Metropolis Star. He read the headline.

MAYSON DRAKE DEAD! CLARK KENT QUESTIONED!

Lois’s hand slipped into his.

The questions bombarded them. Lois used her other arm to clear a path through the agitated mass of people. A man shoved the paper at her. “Is it true?” he asked. “Did Kent kill the DA?”

“No, he didn’t,” Lois said in a loud voice. “He had information the police needed.”

“How can you be sure he didn’t shoot her? She died in his apartment.”

“He wasn’t there,” Lois said.

“Then who did shoot her?”

“The police are continuing with their inquiries,” Lois said. “But if the story in the Metropolis Star suggests that Mr Kent shot Ms Drake, they got it wrong.”

“He didn’t kill her?”

Lois stilled from her efforts to thrust through the crowd. “Clark Kent did not kill Ms Drake,” she stated in a voice that left no room for doubt.

“Mr Kent?” A female reporter from LNN tried to shove a microphone into Clark’s face. “What do you say to the allegations made in today’s Metropolis Star?”

Lois’s hand tightened in his. “I didn’t kill Ms Drake,” Clark said.

“Mr Kent was helping the police with their investigation,” Lois said loudly. “He wasn’t arrested.”

“Has anyone been charged?”

“Not yet,” Lois said as she moved forward. They reached the road, a cab pulled up, and they climbed in.

Lois gave Clark’s address to the cab driver. Then she turned to Clark, placing her hand on his arm. “It’s going to be all right,” she said.

“Lois,” he said. “Do you really believe what you said back there? That I didn’t kill Mayson?”

“Clark!”

He figured from her expression that he was on the verge of trouble for even asking the question.

“I never believed for one moment that you had killed her,” Lois said. She pointed at him fiercely. “And you should be ashamed of your lack of faith in our friendship.”

“Everyone else seemed to believe I’d done it,” Clark said in half-hearted self-defence. It was strange how little the tide of opinion mattered now. Now he was with Lois.

“I knew you couldn’t have done it,” she said.

“How could you have known?”

“Because I know you, Clark. You can be one of the most frustrating people to walk on this planet, but you don’t kill and you don’t run away.”

A mighty ball of emotion rose up, choking his ability to speak. Clark took her hand in his, put his head back, and closed his eyes.

The thing he valued more than anything else in his life — his friendship with Lois — was still all right. So far, it had withstood the accusation of murder.

Whether it would withstand Lana’s claims, he didn’t know.

Whether it would survive his secret being blown to bits, he didn’t know either.

Her head landed softly on his shoulder. Clark hauled in a deep breath, allowed his mind to fade to nothingness, and wished the short cab ride could last forever.

Part 10

The cab pulled up at the kerb, and the weight of Lois’s head lifted from Clark’s shoulder. He shook himself from the temporary cocoon of peace and looked out of the window. They were at his apartment.

Where Mayson had died.

Lois’s hand covered his, and he turned to her. Her smile — replete with understanding, support, and empathy — warmed his heart, further thawing its cold slab of isolation. “I thought you would like to get some different clothes,” she explained. “I have your keys. I got them from Henderson.”

Clark nodded mutely, and she directed the driver to wait for them.

A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk near his apartment. From their midst, a voice called out, “There he is,” and the group swivelled towards him.

Lois’s hand burrowed into Clark’s again. She lifted her head high and marched them past the pointing, speculating crowd. She unlocked his door, hustled him inside, and shut it firmly.

Her hand slid down Clark’s arm and rested on his elbow. “You OK?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” He turned from Lois, his eyes drawn to the place where Mayson had lost her life. There was nothing to testify to the horror of what had happened here — no lingering bloodstain, no dent in the dark timber.

Lois nestled closer against his side. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said in a low voice. “Whatever the reasons for her being here, whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.”

“If I’d told her sooner, she wouldn’t have been here,” Clark said.

“Told her what?”

“That I didn’t want to be with her like that.”

“What happened to Mayson is a tragedy,” Lois said. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t pull the trigger, but perhaps I deserve –”

“You don’t,” Lois said. She clasped his hand again and moved forward, guiding them around the spot where Mayson’s body had lain. At the bottom of the stairs, Lois released him and nodded to his bedroom. “Go and get some clothes.”

“I could shower here,” Clark suggested.

“No,” Lois said. “I don’t think you should be here any longer than necessary.”

He glanced into the bedroom, but didn’t move. His legs felt heavy, his feet felt melded to the floor. He and Mayson had spent time together. Here. Just a few days ago, she had cooked in his kitchen.

Now, she was gone.

Lois moved into his vision. “I don’t think we should stay here,” she said. “Get your clothes, and we’ll go.”

“Shouldn’t you be working on a subway story?”

As he reached the end of his question, Clark realised how utterly ungrateful he’d sounded. He held his breath, dreading that he’d pushed her away and she would leave him.

“The cab is waiting for us, remember? And I told Henderson and Wolfe I would stay with you.” Her smile appeared briefly. “It’s not because I think you’re a flight risk; I don’t. But I do think the team of Lane and Kent needs to be together for a while. I’ve hardly seen you in a week.”

On an intuitive level, Clark suspected there was something more to her insistence that they leave quickly, but his exhausted brain refused to cooperate, so he took the simple option and obediently moved into his bedroom. He gathered up jeans, a tee shirt, a jacket, socks, and underwear and shoved them into a bag. In the bathroom, he took his toothbrush from the shelf where Lana had discarded it.

When he turned, Lois was there. She reached past him and opened the cabinet. Lana’s cosmetics were gone, leaving the shelves forlorn and bare. He figured the police had taken them as evidence.

“Let’s go,” Lois said as she closed the cabinet door. She walked through his bedroom and up the stairs, keeping to the edge. At the top, she waited for him. Averting his gaze from the place where Mayson had fallen, Clark climbed the stairs, and he and Lois left his apartment together.

The crowd was still there. Still whispering. Still theorising. Still playing judge and jury. After Lois had locked his door, she grasped his hand again, and swept him towards the waiting cab without even looking in their direction.

***

Lois stared out of the window as the cab took them towards her apartment.

She’d known this — Mayson’s death in his apartment and being the focus of the subsequent police investigation — would be a harrowing experience for Clark. She’d sensed his lostness when she’d hugged him at the police station. She’d felt his tension and uncertainty as he’d faced the hostile crowd and the damning headlines. She’d wanted to storm into the group outside his apartment and berate them for their thoughtlessness and hasty judgement.

She’d expected Clark to be shaken. Shocked. Dazed.

But she hadn’t expected the moment in the cab — the moment when he’d allowed her to glimpse his desperate need to know what she believed regarding Mayson’s death. The last time he’d been so vulnerable, so open, so unguarded, she’d rejected him.

She’d thought he would never again let her see past that barrier of self-preservation.

But he had. It had made her feel undeserving. It had tugged at her heartstrings, releasing little streams of her love for him — the love she had kept so tightly bound for so long.

The love that — by her own decree — would never be more than friendship.

While surreptitiously studying him, she’d discerned something else. Clark was worried.

About something. Or, more likely, someone. Probably the Prada woman. The woman from Clark’s hometown. His former girlfriend. Lana Lang.

The woman he still loved. He was concerned about her, about where she was, about whether she needed him. About what she might have done.

Lois suspected that every instinct within him was primed, ready to spring to Lana’s defence.

Perhaps that was why he’d wanted to stay at his apartment — hoping she would call, or come to him, or find a way to contact him.

Perhaps that was why he’d suggested Lois should be writing the subway story.

Perhaps that had been a hint that he’d wanted to be alone.

Perhaps he’d felt uncomfortable about his earlier moment of openness.

But, unless he stated outright that he wanted her to leave him, Lois was going to stick with him. In her estimation, having him worried about Lana was preferable to giving Lana the opportunity to convince Clark to sacrifice his freedom on her behalf.

The cab stopped, and Lois paid. They took the elevator to her floor in silence. As they reached her apartment, her cell phone rang. It was from Perry, but she cut the call without answering it. She pushed open her door, walked in, put her bag on the sofa, and turned to Clark with a smile she hoped would claw back a little of the normalcy of their working partnership. “How about you go and have a shower?” she said. “Are you hungry?”

“A bit,” he said, although it looked as if he’d only given her an answer because he thought she expected one.

“It’s morning, but I don’t feel like breakfast,” Lois said. “I could order in a pizza.”

“OK,” he said with no discernible enthusiasm.

“And then, maybe we can talk?”

A little of the tension drained away in the glimmer of Clark’s wry smile. “I figure you must have questions.”

“Not about whether you killed Mayson,” Lois said quickly. “But I think we should use this opportunity to share what we know. I’m sure that, together, we’ll be able to find answers.”

“Lane and Kent,” he muttered.

Her phone rang, and Lois moved over to it. “I think this is Perry,” she said. “Have a shower. Help yourself to anything you need. I’ll order the pizza. We’ll talk while we eat.”

Clark nodded and took his bag into her bathroom.

Lois waited until the door had shut and then answered the phone. “Lois Lane.”

“Lois.” It was Perry’s voice. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

“Sure,” Lois said, wondering what had worried him. “Why?”

“Are you with Clark?”

“Yes.”

“My source told me he left the police station.”

“Yeah. It finally dawned on Wolfe that his case isn’t as solid as he had imagined it was.”

“How is Clark?”

Upset. Disoriented. Hurting. Every time I look at him, I just want to hold him until he feels better again. “He knows this isn’t over,” Lois said, strangling her jangled emotions to keep them from clouding her words. “He’s worried about what is going to happen. He’s been questioned by the police as a suspect in a murder case. He’s tired. And one of his friends was shot dead in his apartment. Altogether, he’s not in great condition.”

“But he seems … OK?” Perry persisted.

“What are you worried about?” Lois asked as fear leapt up her throat. “Have you heard something?”

“Superman came here earlier.”

“Oh?” Lois said. She turned away from the bathroom door and lowered her voice. “What did he say?”

“He was worried.”

“About Clark?”

“About you. He said you were in danger.”

“Danger from what?”

“That’s the thing, Lois,” Perry said. “He wouldn’t tell me. It was as if he wanted me to know something, but he wasn’t willing to come right out and say it.”

“What feeling did you get?”

“I ...” Her editor paused with uncharacteristic indecision. “I didn’t know. But I’ve been thinking about it, and ...”

“And?”

“And it seemed possible he was trying to say that ... that Clark ... He seemed to be hinting that Clark ... might not be himself exactly.”

“He said Clark might hurt me?” Lois hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

“No, he didn’t say that,” Perry said. “But he took time out from the subway rescue to come to my office, so obviously, he thought it was important. He was worried about you. He said threats had been made by someone who was out of control.”

“But he didn’t actually say that person was Clark?” Lois said.

“No,” Perry admitted.

Lois slowly shook her head. Had the entire world lost its mind?

“I knew Clark was at the police station,” Perry said. “But then I heard he had left ... and I ... Darn it, Lois, today has been a terrible day, and it’s not even nine o’clock yet. I’m not taking any risks with your safety.”

“You really think Clark would hurt me?” Lois asked, not bothering to temper her indignation.

“No. But then I didn’t think Clark would be accused of murder.”

“He wasn’t charged,” Lois said quickly. “He wasn’t even arrested.”

Perry sighed deeply. “Lois, just be careful. Please. I don’t know what is happening today. I don’t know what Clark did or his mental state, but I know Superman was worried, and if anything happened to you ...”

Lois softened her tone. “Clark won’t hurt me,” she said. “In fact, if Superman was right and someone has made threats against me, Clark is –”

“Lois, I hated calling about this. I hated even thinking it was a possibility, but in the last twelve hours the safest subway system in the US has collapsed and the most decent upright man I know has been implicated in a murder.”

“I appreciate your concern,” she said. “But there’s nothing to worry about. What’s happening with the subway?”

“A few lines are open, but the city is going to be in chaos for most of the day. Probably for most of the week.”

“I guess Superman is still there helping,” Lois said.

“I haven’t heard,” Perry said. “But when he was here, he indicated he would be occupied for a considerable time. That’s why he wanted me to look out for you.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there, getting you the story.”

“You look after yourself. And Clark, too.”

“OK. Bye, Chief.”

Lois returned the handset, her thoughts in turmoil as she tried to assimilate this new development into a tangled landscape of her mind. She quickly picked up the phone again, dialled the number of the twenty-four hour pizza store, and absently ordered breakfast.

What did Superman know? Had he had contact with Clark?

Why had he gone to Perry with his concerns?

Why not come directly to her?

And when Wolfe had taken him to the station, why hadn’t he used that opportunity to proclaim Clark’s innocence?

***

Clark pulled his sweater over his head, glad to be doing something so mundane that it didn’t make any demands on a mind that felt as if it had been battered to mush.

Lois didn’t believe the accusations. He didn’t understand why she hadn’t spoken up for him in Perry’s office, but that was a minor detail.

She’d investigated on his behalf. Wolfe had said he’d received ‘new information’. Clark had no doubt it had been Lois who had uncovered that new information, brought it to Wolfe, and demanded he consider it.

He had felt trapped. Defenceless. Defeated.

But he hadn’t known Lois was fighting in his corner.

That thought diffused sweet warmth through his heart, and his love for her surged again.

They were friends, Clark reminded himself.

Friends. Partners. Nothing more.

She’d said so when he’d thanked her for coming to the police station.

As he finished brushing his teeth, his mind wandered ahead.

Instead of facing Wolfe’s questions, he was going to face Lois’s.

Clark hadn’t had answers for Wolfe.

Would he have them for Lois?

How much should he tell her? If she asked where he had been at the time of Mayson’s murder, should he tell her the truth? The whole truth? If she asked where he had been all night …

He had to tell her.

They were friends.

She believed in him. But her belief was based on her assumption that she knew him.

When she discovered she didn’t know him at all …

When she realised he’d been hiding things about himself …

Would that change everything?

He had to tell her. He owed her that much.

But actually saying the words. Lois, I’m Superman. Clark had imagined saying them so many times. And he’d imagined her response — dozens of them. And every single time, it had been enough to make him want to shrink back into the shadow of half-truths.

He could not imagine Lois feeling anything other than angry. And hurt. And very betrayed.

Right now, it seemed as if she were his only ally in an intimidating world of accusation and hostility.

He needed her friendship more than ever before.

But the time had come. He had to tell her he was Superman.

***

Lois waited for Clark to finish in the bathroom, trying to sort and catalogue the myriad of ideas and half-formed thoughts into something that would provide a framework for their investigation.

She knew Clark hadn’t killed Mayson. She also knew that doubt would not be enough to save him. Doubt might keep him from a murder conviction, it might even keep him from being charged, but now that the Star had linked Clark Kent with the murder of Mayson Drake, the stigma of it would remain on him, contaminating his life, his work, and his reputation.

They needed proof. Incontrovertible proof.

Why had he been so uncooperative with the police?

Why hadn’t he come right out and said where he’d been at the time of the murder? Where had he been last night?

Although she’d given answers to Henderson when he’d raised those questions, in her own mind, they weren’t enough.

What was Clark hiding?

How was Superman involved?

Did Clark know Lana had killed Mayson? He must suspect. Or was there something else — another twist that Lois hadn’t uncovered yet?

Lois searched every corner of her imagination, trying to formulate an alternative explanation for Clark’s behaviour.

Every time, she came back to the same conclusion.

He loved the Prada woman. He knew she was in trouble. Being Clark, he wouldn’t save himself if that meant hurting her.

Lois was a little surprised he hadn’t suggested trying to contact Lana. Surely, he would want to be with her. Perhaps he didn’t know her whereabouts. Or perhaps he did know and was deliberately staying away to avoid leading anyone to her.

Clark emerged from the bathroom, looking breath-taking in his jeans and casual shirt. Lois swallowed down her army of regrets as she asked, “Are you feeling any better?”

The smile he gave her was tinged with pure Clark, and she realised afresh how much she had missed being with him. “Yes,” he said. He moved closer to her. “Lois.” He took in a deep breath. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

Her tears surged. Tears for what she had lost. Tears for what he had endured. Tears because he wasn’t hers and never would be. She brutally thrust the tears aside said lightly, “You know you’re the only person I could ever bear to work with. I couldn’t let Wolfe charge you with something you didn’t do.”

His hand lifted towards her, but it dropped before making contact.

Lois gestured to the sofa. “Let’s go and sit down,” she said. “The pizza will be here soon.”

They moved to her sofa and sat, both perched on the edge, both turned slightly towards each other, both looking ill at ease.

Something had changed between them.

He was no longer just her best friend. He was another woman’s lover.

“Who goes first?” Lois said, trying to sound cheerful, trying to get them back on the easy footing they had been slowly reconstructing in the aftermath of the Luthor debacle.

“I will,” Clark said. “I figure I owe you that, at least.”

Lois fortified her heart, knowing that his declaration of love for Lana Lang was going to feel like an assault with a blunt club. She moulded her face to an expression she hoped was appropriately poised between concern and detachment. “How about you start around the time you arrived home last night?”

Clark was staring vacantly ahead. “They think I murdered her,” he said. “They believe I could do that.”

“They’re cops,” Lois said dismissively. “They’re trained to be suspicious of everyone.”

Clark didn’t respond verbally. He stared at the floor, the depths of his anguish laid bare. Lois watched him, yearning to reach over and touch him. His leg. His arm. Perhaps take his hand as she had done in the cab.

But she had to remember. He was just her friend. Her partner. His heart belonged to someone else.

“Start at the beginning,” she prompted.

“I left the office about nine-thirty,” Clark said woodenly. “I walked home, so it was almost ten o’clock when I arrived. My neighbour, Mrs McCreadie was also coming home. She had taken her cat to the vet.”

Lois reclined into the sofa, hoping it would relax both of them. She waited as Clark gathered his thoughts. She wondered if he was thinking about how good it had been to return home and find Lana there to welcome him after a long day.

“After we’d talked for a minute or so, I went into my apartment. I heard a noise in the bedroom. It was Lana.”

He’d said her name. Without a trace of feeling, good or bad. “Were you glad to see her?” Lois asked cautiously.

“I was surprised.”

“But ... but her cosmetics were in your bathroom.”

Clark nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t want her there?” Lois asked as hope butted against her heart.

“I didn’t want her moving in with me,” Clark said. “But she had other ideas.”

“So she wanted to be with you?”

Clark released a long breath. “Yeah,” he said. “We used to date in high school, and she said she wanted us to be together again. She said we were going to get married. She had the whole future planned.”

If Lana’s plans had pleased Clark then, he didn’t look pleased now. Perhaps he’d realised that those plans were now unlikely to come to fruition. Perhaps he was in shock that his future with Lana had been swept away from them. Or perhaps … “Is that what you wanted?” Lois asked.

“She said she was pregnant,” Clark said dolefully.

Pregnant? The word resonated around Lois’s mind as her heart gave up the tiny seed of hope it had been nurturing. Whatever his feelings, Clark would never abandon the woman carrying his child. Lois had no doubt he would lie to protect his family.

“She said we were going to get married and raise the child together.”

Clark had always wanted a family. “I’m sorry, Clark,” Lois said.

He pulled his eyes from their sightless stare and looked at her. “I hadn’t seen her in over a year. And suddenly, she’s back in my life and telling me that we’re going to be together.”

“It ... it isn’t your child?”

“No.”

Lois’s hope leapt onto the top of her heart and executed a little dance. “So ... what you feel for her is ... loyalty ... not love.”

“I’m not sure what I feel for her,” Clark said sadly. “Pity, perhaps.”

Lois slumped into the sofa and stared at Clark. Lana Lang’s reintroduction into his life had induced pity. “Why pity?”

“Because she was behaving erratically. She was almost manic. Happy one moment, angry the next.”

“Did you consider her offer? Did you think there was any possible way it could work?”

“It wasn’t an offer,” Clark said. “It was a demand.”

“Had you decided what to do?”

“I could never marry her,” he said. “But I was trying to work out the best way to help her.”

He would. He was Clark. “Why couldn’t you marry her?” Lois asked gently.

“Because I don’t love her. I will never love her.”

He didn’t love her.

He would never love her.

“Then why are you trying to protect her?” Lois asked. “Why didn’t you tell the police she was in your apartment? Where were you all last night? You must have known she could have killed Mayson. Why didn’t you –” Lois stopped, realising Clark’s tension had cinched tighter with every questioning dart she had flung. “Sorry,” she said. “Keep going.”

“I hadn’t seen her since I left Smallville. I’d barely thought of her. I don’t want a future with her. I told her that, but she wouldn’t accept it. She said that if I didn’t do what she wanted, she would ...”

“She would what? Kill another woman who was interested in you?”

“No. She said she would tell –”

“That’s what the screaming was about? It wasn’t an argument between you and Mayson? It was between Lana and Mayson?”

Clark nodded.

“And Lana accused you of cheating?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t love her?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t love Mayson?”

Regret washed across Clark’s face. “No,” he said sadly. “I didn’t love Mayson.”

“But you hadn’t told her that?”

“No. I tried. But I just couldn’t find the right words.”

Because Clark knew what rejection felt like, Lois thought grimly. He knew what it felt like to watch the person you love be with someone else.

She had to tell him. The timing was all wrong. The last thing Clark needed was another woman pressuring him into something he didn’t want. But she wouldn’t demand anything of him. She would just undo something she had done and had regretted ever since.

With her heart thundering, Lois shuffled closer to Clark. He eyed her, his face a mass of questions.

When she was close enough that her knee was almost touching his, she smiled. She hauled in a deep breath. And then she said the three hardest words in the English language.

“I was wrong.”

His face closed, shuttered by pain. “About what?”

“About you. About what I said.” Lois smiled, but Clark didn’t smile back. She inched a little closer. “That day in –”

A sharp knock to the door broke into her nascent confession.

“That’ll be our pizza,” Lois said.

“What were you saying?” Clark asked. “What were you wrong about?”

“I’ll get the pizza, and then we’ll –”

“Open up,” came the harsh cry from the other side of the door. “Police. Open up.”

Clark groaned.

“Don’t worry,” Lois said as she rose from the sofa. “They’ve probably come to tell us they’ve found the murderer.” She opened the door.

Wolfe was there. Henderson was there, his face pulled taut. A third cop was there.

“Is Clark here?” Wolfe snapped.

“Yes,” she said, hearing Clark’s footsteps come up behind her. “We told you we would be here.”

Wolfe stepped forward, past Lois. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and slipped them on Clark’s wrists. “Clark Kent,” he said. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Mayson Drake. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say ...”

Lois tuned out. She grabbed Henderson’s arm and pulled him away. “What is he doing?” she barked. “What do you have?”

“The murder weapon,” Henderson replied tightly. “With Clark’s fingerprints.”

Part 11

There was a fleeting second when Lois caught Clark’s eyes — a tiny second when, she hoped, she managed to telegraph everything that was important.

It’s OK.

We’ll beat this.

I will never believe you killed.

Hang in there; we’re not beaten yet.

Before she could detect any response, he was turned around and marched off between two cops.

Lois gripped Henderson’s jacket. “What about the clothes?” she said. “The Prada dress? Clark’s jacket and tie? Did you get them tested for gunshot residue?”

He nodded. “Inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive?” she hissed. “Either there was evidence of gunshot residue or there wasn’t.”

Henderson sighed. “There was nothing on Clark’s clothes. The dress had traces of something, but the area was small and almost twelve hours had passed since the shooting.”

“So you might not have the evidence that she did it,” Lois said. “But you know Clark didn’t.”

Henderson wearily shook his head. “No,” he said. “We can be reasonably sure that whoever shot Mayson wasn’t wearing Clark’s jacket and tie at the time. But the simple explanation is that Clark removed those items when he arrived home. Many men do that, Lois.”

“If he had done that, the residue would be on his shirt,” Lois said, making a move towards Clark’s bag.

Henderson stalled her with a hand to her arm. “Lois,” he said, “nothing we find on the shirt is going to change that Clark’s prints are on the murder weapon.”

“Will he be charged?”

“That depends on the DA’s assessment of Wolfe’s case. Naturally the DA’s department is very keen that the perpetrator be brought to justice in this particular case.”

“So am I,” Lois said grimly.

“We have opportunity, plus a very good witness statement, plus the weapon, minus a realistic alternative — that makes for a solid case.”

“Lana Lang is a realistic alternative,” Lois said forcefully.

“We have no evidence that Lana Lang is even in Metropolis.”

“Have you found her in Smallville?”

“Wolfe didn’t ask the local Sheriff’s office to try to locate her.”

“Why not?”

“Lois,” Henderson said in exasperation. “Even if we were able to ascertain that Lana Lang isn’t in Smallville, it doesn’t mean she’s in Metropolis, let alone prove that she shot Mayson.”

“It gives her opportunity.”

Henderson’s latent impatience bubbled to the surface. “I have to go,” he snapped. “I want to be there when Wolfe questions Clark.”

“Where did you find the gun?”

“In the subway.”

“The subway?” Lois gasped. “How did ...”

“After Clark is charged with murder, there’s every chance the next charge laid will be Superman with obstruction of justice.” Henderson turned and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

Lois marched to her phone and called Jimmy.

“James Olsen,” he said after answering.

“Jimmy,” she said. “Remember last year? The car thieves at Metropolis pier?”

“Ah ... hi, Lois.”

“Do you remember?”

“Sure, I remember. You nailed them cold.”

“I need the video recorder. I need it here in less than ten minutes.”

“I’m still working on the subway collapse, Lois. It’s a huge story. I got some great shots. It could be my big –”

“Jimmy, I need that video recorder. And I need it now.”

He sighed with resignation. “OK, Lois. Where are you?”

“I’m in my apartment. Bring the recorder and anything else you’ll need to hide it on my body.”

“Do you need the beard and moustache?”

“The what?” she said impatiently. “Oh. I remember. No, I just need the recorder and a tape. I have everything else.”

“OK, Lois. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” Lois slammed down the phone and went to search through her closet for exactly the right outfit.

***

The knock sounded on her door thirteen and a half minutes later. Lois quickly finished tying the knot in the black lace that weaved up her cleavage, pulling together the two sides of the shiny red halter-top. She hurried to the door and flung it open. “Jimmy,” she greeted. “Did you bring it?”

His eyes popped, and he seemed to have lost the ability to move.

Lois grabbed his arm and pulled him into her apartment. “Did you bring the recorder?” she demanded.

He jolted from his stupor, swallowed, and gave a stilted nod. “Yeah,” he said. “I got it.”

“Good,” Lois said. “There’s a tape in it?”

“Yeah. You have thirty minutes. Will that be enough?”

“Yep.” Lois looked down, beyond the shiny red top and to the short black skirt that was cinched around her hips. “Where are we going to put it?”

“You want it somewhere on you?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Lois,” he spluttered with a helpless gesture towards her outfit. “There is nowhere to put it. Not if you want it hidden.”

Lois pulled at one side of the top, centring it. “It has to be able to go somewhere,” she said.

“You want the camera at the front?”

“Yes.”

His expression was that of a man who was being asked to achieve the impossible. “Can I touch?”

“Of course, Jimmy,” Lois said. “Just get it on me and get it hidden. I have to leave.”

He leant back and scrutinised her. “It’s probably going to be less obvious if it’s higher rather than lower,” he said. But he didn’t make a move towards her.

Lois thrust out her hand. “Give it to me.”

He did. Gratefully.

She released the knot. She loosened the laces and shoved the tiny video camera into her cleavage. “Is that going to work?”

“How much vision do you need?” Jimmy said.

“As much as I can get.”

“Sound won’t be enough?”

“No.” Lois pulled on the laces, tightening the sides of her garment around the camera. “I need to prove identity. For that, I need vision.” She craned her neck, looking down at the bump between her breasts. “Can you adjust the laces around the lens so there’s a clear view?”

Jimmy approached her and tentatively manipulated the laces. “OK,” he said. “The lens is clear.”

Lois arranged the bow over the sides of the camera. “Is that going to work?”

“You’ll only get vision of what is directly in front of you.”

“Is the camera obvious?”

Jimmy stood back, surveying her. “There’s a bit of a bulge,” he said.

“Is it noticeable?” Lois inquired anxiously.

He stepped sideways. “It is from this angle, but front-on, it’s not too obvious unless you’re concentrating on that spot.” His gaze dropped. “It’s not like there isn’t anything else to look at.”

Lois hitched up her skirt. “Is that better? Should I show more leg? Or more midriff?”

Jimmy’s cheeks coloured. “Ah ... perhaps more leg. Try to draw the focus away from the camera.”

“I press the button on the left side and it will record?” Lois said, feeling through the material to locate the button.

“Yeah. Same as last time.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” Lois hooked her sparkly gold bag over her shoulder.

“Lois,” Jimmy said. “This looks dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than the car thieves,” she said, taking the handle of the small glitzy pink suitcase she had packed earlier.

“You were dressed as a guy, then,” Jimmy said. “Now ... well, if you were going for the guy disguise, you’ve failed completely.”

Lois paused before opening the door. “What do I look like?”

Her question lifted Jimmy’s eyebrows. “A woman on the hunt,” he said.

“Good,” Lois said. “That’s exactly what I am.”

Jimmy put a hand on her bare arm. “What if the hunter becomes the hunted?”

“That’s what I’m hoping will happen.”

“Lois!”

She walked out the door. “Are you staying here?”

Jimmy reluctantly stepped out of her apartment and followed her as she strode towards the elevator. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m helping a friend.” She hit the ‘down’ button.

“Clark?”

“What have you heard about Clark?”

They stepped into the elevator together. “That Mayson Drake was shot in his apartment.”

“She was,” Lois said. “But Clark didn’t do it.”

“The police wanted him for questioning.”

“That’s because of where it happened. Clark wasn’t there at the time.”

The elevator jarred to a stop, the doors opened, and Lois strode out.

“Does the Chief know about this?” Jimmy said, running alongside her to keep up.

“He knows I’m working on this case.”

“Does he know you’re going out dressed like that?” Jimmy said. “Alone?”

“You can’t come, Jimmy.”

“Someone should go with you. Clark wouldn’t let you go out alone dressed like that.”

“No one is coming with me. I need to go alone.”

“Are you trying to get yourself mugged?” Jimmy said in exasperation.

Lois hailed a passing cab. It stopped. “If that is what it takes.” She slipped into the cab as a pizza delivery vehicle drew up behind them. Taking a ten dollar bill from her purse, she shoved it at Jimmy. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I ordered pizza. Have breakfast on me.” She slammed the door before Jimmy could respond.

Lois gave Clark’s address to the cab driving and sat back, meticulously reviewing every individual piece of information she knew about Lana Lang.

***

The revolver lay on the table between them.

Wolfe started the recording, gave the details of who was present, and then looked up at Clark.

“We know the bullet that killed Ms Drake was fired from this weapon,” he said. “We have two clear fingerprints — both yours.”

Clark doubted the forensic team had obtained absolute proof that this was the murder weapon after such a short time, but it was possible they had matched the remaining three bullets with the one that had killed Mayson.

“Do you have any explanation for how your prints came to be on this gun?” Wolfe asked.

Possible answers slithered through Clark’s mind. He rejected every one of them.

“We found the gun in the subway,” Wolfe said. “Between Northwood station and the tunnel collapse.”

Yeah, that was where Clark had left it before giving all of his attention to trying to help injured and trapped people, despite worrying about Lois, wondering about Lana, and mourning Mayson. The gun had slipped from the commotion of his thoughts.

“It was hidden behind a couple of loose bricks,” Wolfe continued, his tone cool, detached, and eminently chilling.

Clark shuffled uneasily in the seat.

“Do you know the whereabouts of Superman?” Wolfe said.

Clark crossed his arms.

“Did you put the weapon in the tunnel? Or did you give it to Superman?”

Clark had no answers to any of these questions. If he said Clark had put the gun there, he was going to open himself up to a barrage of questions about how it had been possible for someone to get through the security guards and enter the tunnel without being seen. If he said Superman had put it there, the superhero’s reputation was going to be just as sullied as Clark’s was.

“I didn’t shoot Mayson Drake,” Clark said dully.

“Your prints are on the murder weapon.”

He was cornered. Where was Lois? He doubted she would stay in her apartment. What was she thinking? If Lana heard he was at the police station ... If Lana had been watching his apartment and had seen them together. He had to try to protect Lois. “I took it from Lana Lang.”

Wolfe laughed — hard and cold. “Lana Lang again. We’ve established that she does exist. That she was raised in Smallville and you dated her. But the Smallville police officer we talked to said you hadn’t been together for a long time.”

“I told you,” Clark said. “Before she came to my apartment last night, I hadn’t seen her for over a year.”

“And the police officer was unaware of her pregnancy.”

Clark shrunk back into his refuge of silence.

“Who ended that relationship?” Wolfe asked.

“She did.”

“That’s what we were told. Perhaps you’ve dwelt on it all these years. Perhaps you were hurt by her rejection. Or humiliated. Perhaps, when the need arose for a scapegoat, you figured it was your opportunity for revenge.”

“That’s not true.”

Henderson moved forward to the table. “Clark, if you didn’t do this, you need to speak up now,” he said. “You need to give us an explanation for how your fingerprints got on that weapon.”

Clark heaved in a breath, feeling squeezed between silence that would indicate guilt or answers that weren’t believable. “I met Lana,” he said.

“After the shooting? Or before?”

“After.”

“When?” Wolfe fired. “Where?”

“When I was coming to the police station.”

“When you came in earlier this morning?”

“No. Before that.”

“What happened?”

“She said that if I came to you and told you she had been in my apartment, she would ...” Clark stopped. All he had was the truth, but he was painfully aware of exactly how implausible it would sound.

“She would what?” Wolfe said.

“She would kill Lois Lane.”

Wolfe didn’t quite guffaw, but his scepticism reverberated around the room. “So you did what?” he asked.

“I saw a gun under her jacket. I took it from her. I had to try to protect Lois.”

“Let me guess,” Wolfe said. “This jacket she was wearing — it was your black leather one, right?”

Clark could only nod.

“The red baseball cap? Did she have that, as well?”

“No.”

The atmosphere tingled with disbelief.

“Are you going to charge me?” Clark asked, although he was sure of the answer.

“What did you do with the weapon?”

“I had to try to make sure Lois would be all right. I knew that once I walked into the police station, I wouldn’t be able to help her. I’d heard about the subway collapse, so I went there, thinking she would be there. I couldn’t find her, so I hid the weapon.”

“In the subway?”

“Yes.”

“You just walked in there — through all the rescue workers and crowds — and deposited the gun behind a couple of bricks?”

Clark had known these questions would be lying in wait if he chose this path. “Yes.”

“Why hide it? Why not bring it with you?”

“I knew I was the primary suspect in a murder case. I figured there was a good chance the gun I took from Lana was the murder weapon, and it had my fingerprints on it. I thought that if I came in here and brought it with me, it would be tantamount to admitting I had killed Mayson.”

“So instead, you concocted a story about the enigmatic Ms Lana Lang?”

Clark said nothing. Not even Lois’s belief in him could save him now.

“You’re going to be held in custody until we have completed our investigation,” Wolfe said. “I have a warrant for Superman’s arrest. Then, unless something changes, I’m going to charge both of you. You with murder. And him with being an accessory after the fact.”

The world didn’t know it yet, but Superman wasn’t going to be seen again for a long time. It was going to look as if he had run away, too.

Should Clark tell them? Should he say, “I hid the gun. I’m Superman. I heard the cries from the tunnel and knew I had to help, but I couldn’t leave Lana with the gun because she was threatening to hurt Lois.”

No, he couldn’t say that.

For over a year, he had protected the secret of Superman. For nearly three decades, his parents had protected the secret of the alien living on Earth.

Once he said he was Superman, it could never be taken back.

Everyone would know.

Even if he admitted he was Superman, it wouldn’t provide him with an alibi for the time of Mayson’s death.

If he were charged and found guilty, they would know a normal prison cell wouldn’t hold him. They would know they would need kryptonite.

His parents would be devastated if his imprisonment involved constant exposure to the green poison. They would be vulnerable to any criminal who wanted retribution against Superman.

And he would be helpless to protect them.

Lois would know.

Everyone knew she worked with Clark Kent. If everyone also knew that meant she was close to Superman, she would be a target.

She’d said she believed in him. Would she still believe in him when she knew he had been lying to her for so long? Would she still think Superman was a hero when she found out he had hidden evidence?

They were going to charge him with murder. They could establish opportunity. They had the weapon.

Until now, Clark had thought he would have a choice. To reveal his secret or to forego his freedom.

But he had no choice. Speaking up — divulging the secret was going to achieve nothing except guarantee that Superman would be brought down with him.

And suddenly, keeping the secret seemed more important than ever before.

So, Clark said nothing as they took him from the interview room and locked him in a holding cell.

***

Lois directed the cab driver to stop one hundred yards from Clark’s apartment and walked towards it with clipped and purposeful steps, her high heels tapping loudly on the sidewalk as the wheels of her suitcase jolted behind her.

At his door, she took the keys from her bag, dropped them, bent low to pick them up, spent a good twenty seconds selecting the right key, and let herself into his apartment. She closed the door but didn’t lock it.

She scanned Clark’s apartment, looking for any changes since she had been here with Clark. Seeing nothing obvious, she walked down the stairs, placed the suitcase on the sofa, and opened it. She took her jeans and sweater and hid them in Clark’s closet, returning to ruffle the remaining contents to make them appear as if someone was in the process of unpacking. She draped her lacy bra over the edge of the suitcase, its black colour providing a stark contrast to the pink.

Lois straightened and was about to move into the bathroom when she heard a noise outside the door. She scuttled towards the kitchen, pressing the record button on the video recorder.

At the sound of the opening door, she turned around, pushing surprise into her face.

A woman marched in.

A woman wearing Clark’s black leather jacket.

And oversized jeans.

Lois glanced to the woman’s feet. The legs of the jeans reached the floor, covering most of her shoes, but Lois could see enough to deduce they were saddle shoes.

The woman stopped at the top of the stairs. “Who are you?” she said.

“I’m Lois Lane,” she replied.

“You’re Lois? Lois Lane?”

“You’ve heard of me.”

“What are you doing in Clark’s apartment?”

“I’m his girlfriend,” Lois declared. Then, figuring now was a good time to get a positive identification, she asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m his fiancée. Lana Lang.”

“Really?” Lois said in heavy tones of disbelief. “That’s strange. My boyfriend has never mentioned you.”

“That’s probably because you aren’t important enough in his life for him to have mentioned me.”

Lois let surprise tumble across her face.

“We dated in high school,” Lana informed her. “Now, we’ve realised we never really fell out of love.” She put a hand on her stomach. “And we have a baby to consider.”

Lois cackled. “You think Clark wants a baby?” she said scornfully. “With you?”

“He doesn’t have a choice. It’s his baby.”

“Clark’s with me now,” Lois said. “Nothing’s going to change that. Not even a baby.”

Lana moved down a couple of steps and stopped right at the spot when Mayson had fallen. “Clark’s going to marry me.”

“No, he’s not,” Lois said. “I was here with him just a short time ago. He insisted I move in with him today.” She gestured towards the open suitcase. “Perhaps his urgency had something to do with your regrettable reappearance in his life.”

“That was you?” Lana said. “You were here with Clark?”

“Of course I was with him. I told you — we’re together.”

“You were dressed ...” Lana’s eyes drifted down Lois’s body. Lois shuffled across, facing Lana front on. “... differently.”

“Yeah,” Lois said, flicking at her hair. “We were working then. But Clark likes me to dress differently in our free time.” She hoisted her skirt an inch higher. “He specifically requested that I wear this to celebrate us moving in together. He bought it for me.”

“Clark ... bought ... that?” Lana gasped.

“He loves it. He said it could have been made specifically for me.”

Lana’s gaze flitted over Lois’s open suitcase. “Did you steal my softening foam gel?”

“What?” Lois exclaimed.

“My Toleriane range of skin-care products. I bought them in Paris. I put them in the cabinet. After you and the old guy came early this morning, the gel was gone.” She advanced a couple of steps. “I want it back.”

“I didn’t take your gel,” Lois said. “The guy I was with is a cop. He took it.”

“A cop?” Lana said, her upper lip curling as if she had burped up something particularly unpleasant. “Did he take my dress, too?”

“Yes.”

“Why did he take them?” Lana seemed genuinely puzzled.

“For evidence,” Lois said, hoping this would lead to a discussion about the murder.

But Lana’s attention had swung back to Lois’s outfit. “You said Clark bought that for you?”

“Yep.”

Lana scuttled down the stairs, her face wrought with shock. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Clark wouldn’t have asked you to move in with him. He’s going to marry me.”

Lois gestured to the open suitcase. “Guess you misunderstood.”

“I didn’t,” Lana screamed. “And Clark would never want to be with someone who dresses like that. He gets uncomfortable around such immodesty.”

“Really?” Lois said with a squeak of surprise. “He’s never seemed unappreciative of my lack of modesty.” She brushed at her skirt. “Perhaps he just needs the right woman.” She looked at Lana, allowing her disdain to shimmer like the hot sun. “Clearly, that isn’t you.”

With a swift movement, Lana pulled a small handgun from inside the jacket.

“What are you going to do with that?” Lois taunted.

“Clark is mine,” Lana cried hysterically. “He’s going to marry me. You can’t have him.”

“I’ve already got him,” Lois said with calm certainty. “And he’s going to stay with me. And nothing you do is going to change that.”

Lana lifted the gun and pointed it at Lois.

“You’re going to shoot me?” Lois scoffed. “Because Clark wants to be with me and not you?”

“He does want to be with me. I know everything about him. He’ll choose me because I’m going to have a baby and he doesn’t want me to tell everyone his secret.”

“He has a secret?”

Lana paused as confusion ironed out her scrunched-up anger. “You haven’t realised?”

“I’m confident I know everything about him that I need to know,” Lois said loftily. “And I don’t need to blackmail him to keep him interested.” She hitched the skirt a little higher.

The gun rose in response.

“What will shooting me achieve?” Lois said. “Clark still won’t love you.”

“Yes, he will,” Lana shrieked. “He has always loved me.”

“How many times have you seen him since he moved to Metropolis?”

“That’s not important,” Lana cried. “He has always loved me. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t love the blonde hussy.”

Finally, they were making some progress. “What blonde hussy?” Lois said, infusing her question with jealousy-tinged interest.

“That blonde who was here last night. The one who was so stupid, she thought Clark wanted to go to a show with her.”

“What’s her name?”

Lana snorted. “I don’t know. She had a boy’s name. It was a bird.”

Lois’s mouth fell open, and she held her pose for a breath. “Mayson Drake?” she gasped. “Mayson Drake came here? To see Clark?”

“Yes,” Lana said, nodding importantly. A sudden smile dissolved her anger. “But she won’t be back. I made sure of that.”

“You made sure of it?” Lois said, mixing a trace of admiration into her interest. “How?”

“The same way I intend to make sure you won’t be with Clark.”

“You shot her?”

“She wouldn’t believe Clark was with me. She said she didn’t think Clark was the father of my baby.”

“So you killed her?” Lois said.

“Yes. Just like I’m going to kill you.”

Having achieved her objective, Lois switched her focus to trying to get out of this alive. First, she needed to stall for time. “You said Clark has a secret,” she said. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, there’s no harm in telling me.”

The gun dropped a few degrees. “You must know,” Lana said. “You must have worked out that he’s not like other men.”

“He isn’t?” Lois shuffled closer to the meagre cover provided by the couch.

“No. He’s different.”

“How is he different?” she asked, eyeing the distance to the couch and wondering if she were close enough to risk a dive.

Lana shuffled a step closer. “He’s scared of intimacy,” she said in a lowered voice.

“He is?” Lois’s exclamation squeaked with surprise.

“I was with him for a long time,” Lana said. “I made it very clear I wanted our relationship to progress further. But he was never interested. Not once. I’d invite him to my home when my parents were out. I’d ask him to stop the car on lonely roads.” Her eyes rested on Lois’s chest, and Lois fingered the bow, using her forearm to try to conceal the bump. “And if I wore a top like that, he would make a point of staring at my face.”

“Maybe he just didn’t find you attractive,” Lois muttered under her breath.

“I thought there was something wrong with me,” Lana continued. “Until we broke up and I met other guys, and I realised he is the one with the problem.”

“So it’s not his baby?”

“Of course it’s not his baby,” Lana hooted. “Clark Kent won’t ever have a baby. That’s why it’s so perfect that we get married. He’s wants a family. I can give him one — and he won’t even need to get into all that stuff he’s so squeamish about.”

“Why would Clark want someone else’s baby?”

“Because he knows he can’t get deeper into a relationship than being friends; he can’t admit to his feelings. Can you believe he never once told me he loved me?”

Lois found that ridiculously easy to believe.

“Clark will marry me because he is scared I will go to the papers and give them the story,” Lana said, clearly impressed with her strategy. “He has a big profile in Metropolis. The moment I saw the posters, I knew I had him.”

Lois regarded Lana with a mix of scorn and pity. “Reputable newspapers don’t run those sorts of stories,” she said. “Clark knows that.”

“Then I’ll speak to the disreputable ones.”

“Did you tell him what you intended to do?”

“I told him I knew his secret,” Lana said with satisfaction. “It was obvious he was worried about it becoming public.”

Lois accepted that he had probably been worried. About Lana’s mental health. About the future for her baby. But he probably hadn’t figured Lana would shoot Mayson and try to frame him. “You can’t make him marry you,” Lois said in defence of her friend. “And I really don’t think he is going to care if you broadcast that particular insight across the entire United States.”

“Of course he is,” Lana said. “No man wants the world to know –”

“Maybe everyone will just assume it was you.”

Lana paled. “Excuse me?”

“Did you ever consider that people might think he doesn’t find you that attractive?”

“I’m pregnant,” she taunted in a singsong voice. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“How are you going to claim that it’s Clark’s kid in one breath and expose his terrible secret in the next?” Lois asked. “Haven’t you realised they are incompatible?”

Blotchy crimson flooded into Lana’s cheeks. The gun jerked upwards. Lois dived to the floor behind the sofa.

The blast came, shattering the silence.

Lois heard a thud. And then a clatter.

She inched upwards, peeking over the couch.

Lana was prostrate on the floor. The handgun was on the floor, half a yard from her outstretched hand.

In the doorway was Mrs McCreadie, her feet apart, her arms forward, her weapon pointed. “Better call 911, Ms Lane,” she said. “Tell them we need the homicide detectives here.”

Homicide? Lana was dead?

Lois rose from behind the couch and moved towards Lana, taking the precaution of kicking the gun out of her reach. “Did you hit her?” she asked Mrs McCreadie.

“Nah. I’m a better shot than that. I was aiming for the floor right between her feet, and that’s exactly where I hit.”

Sure enough, there was a gouge in the floor between Lana’s ankles.

Lana’s head and shoulders lifted.

“But next time I’ll be aiming straight in the middle of her back,” Mrs McCreadie said.

Lana collapsed back to the floor.

Lois picked up her cell phone and dialled Henderson’s cell number.

“Henderson,” he said.

“I need you to get to Clark’s apartment,” Lois said. “Bring Wolfe.”

“Clark’s apartment? Is Clark there?”

“No,” Lois said. “You arrested him.”

“He’s in a holding cell. I ... I thought ... maybe ... Superman ...”

“I don’t know where Superman is,” Lois said. “But Mayson’s killer is here if you’re interested in coming and arresting her.”

“Mayson’s killer?”

“The Prada woman. AKA Lana Lang. The one you should have been investigating from the start.”

“Lois, if it’s just your word against hers –”

“I have proof,” Lois said. “I nailed her cold. And I have an excellent witness.”

Part 12

Lois replaced her cell phone in her bag. “You can handle that gun pretty well,” she remarked to Mrs McCreadie, who hadn’t moved from the top of the stairs or lowered her weapon from where she had it trained on Lana’s unmoving form.

“My husband was the only cop in Mount Bethel, Pennsylvania for over thirty years,” Clark’s neighbour replied. “When we moved there, he said he couldn’t be everywhere at once, so he insisted I learn how to handle a gun. I practised until I was the best shot in the entire town.”

That explained a few things — the detail and clarity of her evidence for starters.

Lana groaned from the floor. “I feel sick,” she said. “Can I sit up?”

“You can sit up,” Mrs McCreadie said. “But if you make one move towards the gun or Ms Lane, I will shoot. And the last time I missed what I was aiming for, it was 1979.”

Lana awkwardly rose to a sitting position. She hunched over her knees and whimpered.

Mrs McCreadie shook her head. “I can’t believe she’s still wearing the same clothes. Didn’t she know the police would be looking for her?”

“Maybe she figured they would be looking for a male,” Lois said. “So she took off the cap, put on a pink ribbon, and thought she would be safe.”

“I feel terrible that I got it so wrong,” Mrs McCreadie said, her eyes never leaving Lana. “Poor Mr Kent.”

“Mr Kent will be all right,” Lois said, smiling secretly as she imagined the moment when they told him he was no longer a suspect.

“Will you tell him that I didn’t mean to get him into trouble?”

“Of course I will,” Lois said.

“I only reported what I saw. But I nearly contributed to an innocent man being charged with murder. I should have been able to tell it wasn’t Mr Kent.”

“You saw someone coming from his apartment, dressed in his clothes at a time when you thought he was home,” Lois said. “It was an understandable mistake.”

“Thank you,” Mrs McCreadie said with evident relief.

“And your statement about what you witnessed here will help bring justice for Ms Drake.”

“I heard her confess to killing the blonde woman,” Mrs McCreadie said, gesturing the gun towards Lana. “I was hiding behind the door, listening.”

“Lucky for me, huh?”

Mrs McCreadie’s surveillance of Lana lapsed long enough for her to toss an inquiring look at Lois. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Lana’s head shot up.

Mrs McCreadie’s arms jolted. “Don’t move,” she barked.

Lana flinched. Then her head dropped slowly back to her knees.

Mrs McCreadie’s attention returned to Lois. “You took an awful risk,” she said.

“I ... I thought there was a good chance Pannikin would still be too sick for you to leave her. And if you were home, I hoped ...”

“I would be watching?”

Lois shrugged an admission. “But I didn’t know you are so proficient with a gun.”

“What did you think I would do?”

“Call 911. That’s what you did last time. I was hoping I could stall long enough to still be alive when they got here.”

“You were lucky. I had dozed off. I only woke up ten minutes before you came. I was just settling back into my armchair with a cup of tea when I saw the black leather jacket.”

“Is Pannikin all right?”

“Yes,” Mrs McCreadie said with a relieved smile. “I think she’s going to make it.” Her gaze swung from Lois to the weapon lying on the floor. “Mr Kent must mean a lot to you.”

“He does,” Lois said. Fearing she had been too transparent, she quickly added, “He’s my partner, and I don’t like to see anyone accused of something he didn’t do.”

With a sudden grin that made her look years younger, Mrs McCreadie said, “Nice outfit. I didn’t recognise you at first. You would’ve made a great cop.”

“Thanks,” Lois said. “But I’m happy being an investigative reporter.”

“Understandable,” Mrs McCreadie said, nodding astutely. “When your partner looks like Mr Kent.”

Before Lois could think of an appropriate response, there was movement at the doorway behind Mrs McCreadie, and Wolfe, Henderson, and a uniformed officer appeared. “That was quick,” she said.

Wolfe pulled his gun from its belt. Mrs McCreadie calmly locked her weapon and offered it to him. “It’s loaded,” she informed him.

Henderson took it and unloaded it.

Wolfe surveyed the room, stopping briefly to take in Lois’s clothing. “What’s happening here?” he asked.

“This is Lana Lang,” Lois said.

Wolfe strode down the stairs, picked up the handgun, and crouched next to Lana. “What’s your name?” he said.

“None of your business, cop,” she spat at him.

He straightened and turned to Lois. “What happened?” he said. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“She was trying to steal my fiancé,” Lana said bitterly. “She thinks dressing like a hooker is going to attract him. I tried to tell her it wouldn’t work with Clark, because he –”

“I was actually trying to catch someone else,” Lois said, cutting in before Lana could repeat her allegations about Clark. “Clark told me Lana was jealous of what she believed was happening between him and Mayson, so I thought that if it looked as if I was interested in Clark, she might try to stop me in the same way she’d stopped Mayson.”

Wolfe shot her a scowl of disapproval. “You used yourself as the bait.”

“You were going to charge Clark with a murder I knew he hadn’t committed,” Lois shot back. “People kept telling me I wouldn’t be able to prove he hadn’t done it, so the only option left was to prove someone else had.”

“The clothes the woman is wearing are exactly the same as the clothes I saw on the person who ran from the apartment after the shot was fired,” Mrs McCreadie said from the top of the stairs. “All that’s missing is the baseball cap.”

“Do you have any form of identification?” Wolfe asked, addressing Lana.

“Nothing I’m willing to show you.”

“You need to come to the station with us,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she retorted. “And I’m certainly not going to answer any of your stupid questions. I hate all cops.”

Lois stopped the tape and squeezed the video recorder out from under her top. She held it towards Wolfe. “I recorded everything,” she said. “On here, she says her name is Lana Lang. And she also says she killed Mayson Drake.”

Lana jumped from the floor and sprang towards Lois with a vicious howl. Wolfe and Henderson flew at her, pinning her arms against her side and restraining her.

“Get your filthy hands off me,” she screeched, adding a few choice expletives.

“Then stop struggling.” Wolfe’s calm response splashed like cold water against her fury.

Lana stilled.

“You all need to come to the station,” Wolfe said, taking the recorder from Lois and giving it to the uniformed cop. “I will call for another car.”

“I can’t,” Mrs McCreadie said from the top of the stairs.

Wolfe swung around to her.

“I can’t,” she repeated. “I’ve already left Pannikin for far too long. She’ll be wondering where I have gone.”

Wolfe looked about to inform her that she would be going to the station when Henderson cut in. “You take the suspect,” he said to Wolfe. “I’ll stay here and get statements from Ms Lane and Mrs McCreadie.”

Wolfe frowned, but he nodded his agreement.

“What about Clark?” Lois said.

“Kent is in a holding cell,” Wolfe said. “That’s where he’ll be staying until I am convinced he had nothing to do with Mayson Drake’s murder.” He took out his handcuffs and slipped them on Lana’s wrists. “I’m arresting you for the murder of Mayson Drake. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence against you in a court of law.”

“I hate all cops,” Lana said, glaring at him with revulsion. “It was one of you who got me knocked up and –”

“You are pregnant?” Henderson said.

“That’s what ‘knocked up’ usually means.”

“One of the men from my station?” Wolfe asked quickly.

“Why? You want to make sure someone covers for him?”

“No. If you –”

“It wasn’t here. It was in Rome. A dirty lying Italian cop forced me and now I’m pregnant with his brat.”

“He forced you? It was rape?”

Lana nodded slightly.

“Did you make a report?”

“I tried to,” she said bitterly. “But they wouldn’t listen to me. They told me they weren’t going to allow my lies to destroy the career of a fine cop.”

“I understand that you’re angry,” Wolfe said gently. “But you still have to come to the station. Would you prefer that I get a female officer to accompany you?”

“No,” Lana said. “It doesn’t make any difference to me. You’re all scum.”

Wolfe assisted Lana up the stairs. “Your weapon will have to be processed,” he said to Mrs McCreadie. “I’ll inform you when it can be returned to you.”

“Can I leave?” Mrs McCreadie asked. “I need to check on Pannikin.”

“I’ll speak to Ms Lane first,” Henderson said. “Then I’ll come up to take your statement.”

“Yes, you can go,” Wolfe said as he moved Lana through the door and out of Clark’s apartment.

“Thank you,” Lois called as Mrs McCreadie turned to leave. The woman waved and hurried away.

Henderson looked at Lois, slowly shaking his head. “You do the stupidest things,” he said.

Lois grinned. “But I proved that Clark didn’t kill Mayson,” she replied jubilantly.

“You could have been killed.”

“I didn’t know she would have another gun,” Lois said indignantly. “You told me you had the murder weapon.”

His look plainly spoke what they both knew — procuring a gun in Metropolis wasn’t difficult. “You should have informed me you intended coming here.”

“Do you think Lana would have come in if there had been even a sniff of the cops around?”

Henderson gruffly conceded that point as he moved towards the sofa. He stopped at the sight of the open suitcase and sprawling clothes. “All part of the ruse?”

“Yes,” Lois said, hurrying to shove her clothes back in and close the lid. “Do you mind if I get changed before you ask your questions?”

“I think that would be a very good idea,” Henderson said dryly.

Lois slipped into Clark’s bedroom and quickly changed into the jeans, sweater, and sneakers she had left in his closet. Waves of exhilaration washed over her. Clark was going to be all right. He would be saddened by Mayson’s death, and he would probably have to overcome some lingering feelings of responsibility because of his inadvertent part in it, but he wasn’t going to be charged with murder.

Everyone would know that he hadn’t killed.

Lois intended to write the story herself. Just as soon as she’d finished answering Henderson’s questions.

When she returned to the living room, Henderson was seated on the sofa, his pencil and notepad out and ready. “Sit down,” he said.

She did.

“When did you turn on the recorder you had hidden in your clothes?”

“As soon as Lana appeared in the doorway.”

“How long did you have to wait? After arriving?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“She was watching this apartment?”

“It seems so.”

“What made you suspect she would be watching? She could have been anywhere by now.”

“When I was here earlier with Clark — we dropped in to get a change of clothes for him — the remaining cosmetics had been taken from the cabinet. The most likely person to have done that was Lana.”

“You think she came in here?” Henderson asked. “She came back to the scene of the murder?”

“Perhaps she came back to get her Prada dress. Or her skin-care products. They seem important to her.”

“Why didn’t she get as far away as possible?”

“I think she might have been waiting for Clark. She mentioned something about blackmailing him to stop him going to the police. Perhaps she thought he would return here and they could run away together. She’s not from Metropolis, so she wouldn’t have necessarily known where else to go.”

“If she came back here, why didn’t Mrs McCreadie see her? Didn’t she think it was important to call us when someone wearing a black leather jacket went into Clark’s apartment?”

“Pannikin made a recovery,” Lois said. “Mrs McCreadie fell asleep.”

Henderson glared at Lois and shook his head. “You could have been k-”

“But I wasn’t.” She nodded to his notepad. “You said you had questions.”

Henderson tapped his pen on the pad. “How did you know she would respond to you dressing up like that and going into Clark’s apartment?”

“Because I looked at the motive.”

“The motive for the murder?”

“Yes. You said you had a strong case, but what possible motive did Clark have for killing Mayson?”

“Mrs McCreadie said she heard a female voice accuse Clark of cheating. Clark’s motive could have been to silence Mayson.”

Lois managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “It wasn’t Mayson who accused Clark; it was Lana.”

“That’s what Clark told us.”

“In light of that, it’s obvious that Clark didn’t have a reason to kill Mayson, but Lana did. Jealousy. She believed Mayson was competition for Clark’s affections.”

“So after determining that Lana was jealous enough to kill a rival for Clark’s attention, you decided to provide her with another victim?” Henderson said sourly.

“I wasn’t sure you cops were actually committed to looking for her,” Lois said. “Particularly, after you found the murder weapon with Clark’s fingerprints on it. I couldn’t be sure I would be able to identify her — all I had was a vague description that could have matched half the women in Metropolis. As you said, it’s not difficult to change clothes, so I couldn’t rely on that. It seemed easier for her to find me.”

“Did she actually admit to killing Mayson?”

“It’s all on the tape. I think the exact words were that she’d finished her off. Then Lana pointed the gun at me and said she intended to do the same to me.”

Henderson jotted a couple of notes and then looked up. “OK,” he said. “I accept that Clark left this apartment after Mayson’s first visit. I accept that, unbeknown to Mrs McCreadie, Lana was here when Mayson returned. I accept that, in all probability, the person Mrs McCreadie saw running away after the shot was fired was Lana dressed in Clark’s clothing.”

Lois nodded, keeping her growing elation masked behind her deadpan expression.

“But what I don’t understand is what Clark did after leaving here. Why did it take him so long to come to the station? Why didn’t he just tell us where he was at the time of the shooting? Why did he refuse to say how he knew Mayson had been murdered? Why couldn’t he provide even a hint of an alibi or any details about where he had been after he left his apartment? Why did he do nothing to help himself?”

“I haven’t discussed it with Clark, so I don’t know for sure,” Lois said. “But I have a theory.”

“Go on,” Henderson said.

“When Clark left here, he was probably feeling agitated. Lana had arrived unexpectedly and announced she is pregnant. Not only that, she also informed Clark that he was going to marry her and be a father to her child.”

“But it’s not his child,” Henderson said. “She said the father is an Italian cop.”

“But Lana isn’t rational, and she seemed to believe that threatening to reveal things about Clark would him to comply with her wishes.”

“What things?”

“It didn’t make a lot of sense,” Lois said. “Everything I know is on the tape. But she seemed convinced that Clark would marry her because if he didn’t, she was going to tell the newspapers that when they were dating, he didn’t take up any of her offers of sex.”

Henderson’s eyebrow rose a little.

“She said she had thought there was something wrong with her, but after dating other guys, she realised there was something wrong with Clark.”

“I think she had it right the first time,” Henderson said grimly.

“Yeah,” Lois said, thinking how difficult this situation must have been for Clark. And that was before Mayson had been killed.

“But if Clark knew Lana was unstable, why did he leave her here?” Henderson said.

“He was probably trying to think of a way to help her. It’s possible he called his parents and talked to them. They would know Lana.”

“Why didn’t he tell us this?”

“Maybe he thought it would look as if he was trying to manoeuvre the blame onto her because she had tried to coerce him into marriage. Or maybe he thought that if he told you about Lana’s state of mind, you would be more likely to think she had murdered Mayson.”

“So?”

“So, Clark couldn’t have known who murdered Mayson. Sure, he probably realised it was most likely Lana, but he also knew what it felt like to have people believe you’d killed just because you were the most likely suspect.”

Henderson scowled. “Our case was solid. Nothing we did was unjustified. And Clark could have made things a lot easier for himself if he’d been upfront with us.”

“Ah,” Lois said. “There’s the problem.”

“What problem?”

“Superman.”

“Superman?”

Lois nodded. “Superman found out Mayson had been murdered. Perhaps he saw the police cars heading to Clark’s apartment. Perhaps he listened in to the police radio, but somehow he knew.”

“He arrived here about twenty minutes after we did,” Henderson said. “Wolfe was suspicious that he’d already taken Clark somewhere so we wouldn’t be able to find him.”

“That’s why Clark was so reluctant to speak. He was trying to keep Superman from being implicated in this.”

“If Superman had deliberately hidden a murder suspect, he was already implicated.”

“I doubt he did,” Lois said. “I think Superman looked for Clark after he left here. I think he found him and told him Mayson had been murdered and the police wanted to talk with Clark.”

“Superman told Wolfe that if he saw Clark, he would advise him to give himself up.”

“That’s probably what he did,” Lois said. “But when Clark heard what had happened, his first thoughts would have been for Lana. Had she been hurt by the murderer? Or was she the one who had killed Mayson? Superman would have told Clark that Lana was no longer at his apartment, so they probably decided to look for her.”

“Instead of coming to the station and letting us look for her?” Henderson said with biting exasperation.

“Did Wolfe give Superman any details of the case against Clark?”

“No.”

“So Superman would have told Clark the police had already decided Clark was the murderer, but because they had no details, they couldn’t mount any sort of defence. It made sense to look for Lana first.”

“I suppose you have a theory as to how Clark’s fingerprints got on the murder weapon?”

“I think Clark came back to his apartment, knowing the police would be here.”

“Planning to give himself up?”

“Yes,” Lois said. “But instead, Lana was waiting for him. That’s when he took the gun from her.”

“He should have come to the station then.”

“But he was wanted for questioning about a murder and he was carrying the weapon that probably killed Mayson,” Lois said.

“He still should have come,” Henderson said. “He should have told us that Lana had been in his apartment.”

“He had no reason to think you’d believe him. Superman probably told him the police had already decided Clark Kent was the killer. If he’d gone to the station, he would have been in custody and there would have been no one to help Lana if she was innocent or find her if she was the murderer.”

“What about Superman?”

“He was occupied saving lives in the subway,” Lois said. “Which is why Clark didn’t come to the station sooner.”

“To protect Lana?”

“Actually, by then, he was trying to protect Superman.”

“Lois, Superman is invulnerable.”

“His reputation isn’t invulnerable.”

“Go on.”

“Clark knew he was the primary suspect in a murder case. He knew Superman was involved — perhaps they looked for Lana together, Clark had given the murder weapon to Superman. Clark knew Superman was going to be occupied with the subway disaster for a long time. He knew that if he were to go to the station, there was a chance of a leak to the papers — which did happen — about Superman being involved. So Clark held off from going to the police until Superman had finished the rescue, so that he, Clark, remained the focus of the investigation.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Henderson said.

“That’s Clark Kent.”

“He was wanted for murder, Lois. Every second he stayed away, the situation got worse for him.”

“Did Wolfe question Clark about Superman’s involvement?”

“Yes. Clark closed up. He refused to answer simple questions such as who had told him Mayson had been killed.”

“See?” Lois exclaimed triumphantly. “He was trying to protect Superman.”

“Really?” Henderson said, clearly not yet convinced.

“Clark knows how important Superman is to this city. He knows it is Superman’s heroic qualities, such as truth and justice and goodness, which make him universally trusted. Clark would be very careful about tarnishing that reputation.”

“Even to the detriment of his own reputation?”

“Probably. He suffers from Clark Kent Martyr Syndrome. If you look at Clark’s motives, it starts to explain where he was all night, why it took him so long to come to the station and how his prints are on the gun.”

“You think he took the gun from Lana? Or she gave it to him?”

“He probably took it from her. He knew there was a strong possibility that Lana had already killed, and he was worried about what she might do next. She was irrational, and she was armed. That’s a dangerous combination. So he took the gun from her, hoping to prevent another tragedy.”

“He could have told us,” Henderson said.

“Didn’t he? Didn’t he mention Lana? Isn’t that why you let him go after I told you it had been the Prada woman dressed in Clark’s clothes that had run away from his apartment?”

“Yeah,” Henderson admitted. “But Wolfe didn’t believe him. And with good reason. Clark was ducking and weaving and refusing to give straight answers.”

“Clark Kent doesn’t kill — he protects. He protects the people he cares about. Once you understand that, everything else falls into place.”

Henderson grinned suddenly. “You know, Lois, you’re one of the most intuitive people I’ve ever met, but you are exceedingly blind when it comes to your own life.”

“You mean putting myself in front of a killer raging with jealousy?”

“That, too.”

“What else?”

“I think your theory skates around the truth,” he said. “But you’re missing the most important piece.”

“What piece?”

“Clark didn’t stay away from the station to protect Superman’s reputation.”

“He didn’t?”

“No. He was protecting someone else he cares about.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Clark told us that when he met Lana, he took the gun away from her because she was threatening to kill you.”

“She knew about me?”

“Or course she did,” Henderson said. “There are posters.”

“Oh. Them.”

“Clark took the gun from her, but he knew Superman was in the subway and as you said, he knew that if he went to the station, he would probably be held there for a long time. So he spent the night making sure Lana didn’t hurt you. He said he went to the subway, looking for you.”

“You think he followed me all night?” Lois said sceptically. “I’m sure I would have noticed.”

“I think he either followed you or followed Lana. When Superman came out from the subway, Wolfe took him to the station. He questioned Superman for a while and let him go. Clark arrived about twenty minutes later.”

“Enough time for Superman to find Clark and for them to swap notes about Lana?” Lois mused. Except, after Clark had gone to the station, Superman had had to return to the subway, and so he’d gone to Perry and given him the cryptic message about the need to protect her. “Did Superman say anything about Lana?”

“No. Nothing.”

“Did he admit having had contact with Clark?”

“No.”

“He didn’t try to explain why Clark hadn’t come to the station?”

“No. He said he knew nothing. He said he’d been in the subway.”

“So Superman didn’t make any attempt to explain Clark’s reluctance to answer questions?”

“Well, to be fair, at that stage Clark hadn’t been asked any questions.”

“But Superman must have known that his part in this wasn’t going to escape scrutiny. I mean, Wolfe dragged him off to the police station within minutes of him emerging from the subway. Did he offer any information to help Clark?”

“He suggested the reason for Clark’s non-appearance at the station could have been that he was asleep.”

“That’s pathetic,” Lois said.

“He admitted having flown to Kansas to tell Clark’s parents, but he refused to say when he’d last seen Clark.”

“He refused?”

“Yeah. He said he hadn’t flown him anywhere that night.”

“Was he trying to make things worse for Clark?”

“He wouldn’t have known then if anything had happened while he was in the subway. He wouldn’t have had the opportunity to speak with Clark before Wolfe took him to the station.”

“If he’d believed Clark hadn’t done anything wrong, he would have realised they didn’t need to synchronise their stories. All he needed to do was to tell the truth.”

“I got the impression ...”

“What?”

“That Superman thought Clark was in trouble, and although he was willing to help privately, he wanted to stay out of it publicly.”

Poor Clark, Lois thought as her heart stirred with sympathy. Even one of his closest friends had had doubts about him.

“What are you thinking?” Henderson said.

“Ah ... about how difficult this must have been for Clark,” she said. “And what he did.”

Henderson shook his head. “Haven’t you yet worked out that Clark would do absolutely anything for you? Including it seems, risk being charged with a murder he didn’t commit?”

“I ...”

Henderson stood. “Clark could have made this a whole lot easier for everyone if he’d come to the station as soon as he found out Mayson had been murdered in his apartment.”

“Yes,” Lois said sombrely. “But if he’d done that, I could be dead by now.”

Henderson stood. “I have to talk to Mrs McCreadie.”

“Can I call you later for an update?”

“Are you writing the story now?”

“Yes.”

Henderson walked up the stairs. “Depending on what Ms Lang tells Wolfe, I might need to talk to you again later.”

“OK,” Lois said. “We will help each other.”

Henderson left the apartment without replying.

Lois stared at the closed door. Had Clark been protecting her? Had he put her safety ahead of the need to clear his name?

With anyone other than Clark, she would have been sceptical.

But this was Clark.

If he had spent the night guarding her, what did it mean?

That they were friends?

Partners?

Or that he wished they could be something more?

Lois put her suitcase in Clark’s bedroom and left his apartment.

For the first time in her life, she had a big story and felt strangely reluctant to write it. Not because it involved her partner being accused of murder — she intended to write the story in such a way that it definitively refuted every possible suggestion that Clark had been anything more than an innocent party caught up in a terrible tragedy.

But she didn’t want to write.

She wanted to go to the police station.

She wanted to be there when Clark was released from custody.

She wanted to take him back to the Planet and write the story together.

And most of all, she wanted to get him alone. To assure him of her absolute faith in his innocence. To find out where he’d been during those lost hours.

And to tell him what she had tried to tell him before.

How much she regretted spurning his declaration of love.

She climbed into the cab that had stopped at her bidding. “Central Police Station, please,” she said to the driver.

Part 13

The door to his cell swung open, and Clark looked up to see Wolfe.

His heart plummeted. This was it. He was about to be charged with murder. His life was about to become a whirlwind of lawyers, police procedure, questions, cells, and court appearances — all with no foreseeable end.

Wolfe stood before him, looking down to where Clark was sitting on the concrete floor. “You’re free to leave,” he said.

Clark scrambled to his feet. “Excuse me?”

“You’re free to leave.”

“But ... but what about ...”

“The murder of Mayson Drake? I have a confession from the murderer. She testifies that you weren’t there.” Wolfe grunted. “Although in her rather twisted logic, she seems to think it was your fault she pulled the trigger because you refused to marry her and take responsibility for a child that isn’t yours.”

“Lana?” Clark asked, although he knew it had to be.

“Yes.”

“She admitted to shooting Mayson?”

“Yes.”

“And you believe her?”

“We’re waiting on some supporting forensic evidence — the leather jacket, her hands, other possible fingerprints on the revolver — but yes, I believe her.”

“What will happen to her now?”

“She will be charged. Probably as soon as I present my case to the DA.”

“She’s pregnant,” Clark said. “Will that be taken into consideration?”

“Not unless her lawyer tries to introduce it as a factor affecting her mental state,” Wolfe said.

“But she’ll be looked after? She’ll have access to medical care?”

“Of course.”

Clark took a step towards the door. Towards freedom. “How did you find her?” he asked. “How did you get her to confess?”

“I didn’t. Lois Lane did.”

“Lois?” Fear gripped Clark’s throat. “Is she all right?”

“Other than continuing to suffer from a chronic lack of common sense and good judgement, she’s fine.”

Clark’s fears receded. “Lana didn’t hurt her?”

“No.”

“Is Lois here?”

“No.”

Disappointment sloshed through the haze of his mind.

“Mr Kent,” Wolfe said. “Although I believe I have solved Ms Drake’s murder and identified the perpetrator, I also believe that your actions in not answering my questions with forthrightness and clarity were extremely foolish and could have led to the wrong person being charged.”

Clark nodded, accepting the detective’s rebuke.

“I don’t know what you were trying to achieve,” Wolfe said. “Henderson believes your actions were driven by the belief that Ms Lang intended to hurt Ms Lane.”

“Lana threatened to kill her.”

“When you took the weapon from her?”

“Yes.”

“This is Metropolis. It’s not hard to get another weapon.”

“Lana is from Smallville. I hoped she wouldn’t know where to get another gun. I couldn’t leave the gun on her — not after she’d said she knew Lois worked at the Planet.”

“Why didn’t you bring the gun to us? Why didn’t you tell us of Ms Lang’s threats against Ms Lane?”

“Because I didn’t think you would believe me. I knew I was your primary suspect. My prints were on the weapon, Mayson was killed in my apartment.”

“What did Superman have to do with this? Did he hide the weapon in the subway?”

“No. I did.”

“Did he help you hide from the police?”

“No. I chose not to come to the station because I was worried about leaving Lois unprotected.” Clark thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was trying to stop another murder.”

“Did Superman offer to help you evade police scrutiny?”

“I gave myself up. I walked into the police station.”

Wolfe took a deep breath. “I’m not sure Superman isn’t guilty of the crime of obstruction of justice,” he said. “However, this city needs him more than ever after the tragedy of the lives lost in the subway collapse, so I am going to overlook my suspicions and give all my attention to ensuring justice for Ms Drake. But ...” He looked directly at Clark. “... you should inform your friend, Superman, that should there be a next time when I believe he has interfered with a police case, I will charge him.”

Clark nodded.

“There are some papers for you to sign at the front desk,” Wolfe said.

Clark walked out of the cell. Down the corridor. Past the closed doors of the interview rooms — one of which probably held Lana Lang. And to the reception area at the front of the police station.

He walked up to the desk, gave his name, received his watch and wallet, and signed the papers.

As he turned, four uniformed officers streamed from nearby rooms. “Another collapse in the subway,” they called in explanation to other cops. “Three workers are trapped.”

“Where’s Superman?” someone asked. “I thought he was there.”

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s trapped, too.”

Clark waited a couple of seconds after the officers had sprinted through the door and then followed them. He found a deserted corner, spun into his Suit, and flew to Northwood station.

***

Lois’s cell phone rang while her cab was stuck in traffic halfway between Clark’s apartment and the police station. “Hi, Perry,” she said after seeing his number on her display.

“Have you heard, Lois?”

“Heard what?”

“Another section of the tunnel has collapsed. Three rescue workers are trapped.”

“Isn’t Superman there?”

“I thought he was, but the word I’m hearing is that he left earlier this morning. I know you’ve been busy with Mayson’s murder, but my source told me a woman is about to be charged, so I’m hoping you’ll be able to get the subway story.”

“Sure, Perry,” Lois said, swallowing down her disappointment at the delay in seeing Clark. “I’m in a cab now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You have just saved my career, Lois,” Perry said with heartfelt appreciation. “I don’t think I would survive if I had to edit another story written by Ralph today.”

Lois made a low, throaty noise that she hoped sounded like sympathy. “I have the story about the arrest of Mayson’s murderer,” she said. “After I’ve finished at the subway, I’ll come into the newsroom and write up both of them.”

“Thank you,” Perry said with evident relief. “Have you seen Clark?”

“Not since the police took him after they found the murder weapon.”

“But he’ll be released now?”

“I hope so.”

“That’s great,” Perry said. “Bye, Lois.”

He hung up, and Lois instructed the driver to change direction and take her to Northwood station.

Would Clark be there? He could have heard about the latest collapse when he was at the police station. Had he been released yet? She had so wanted to be there to share that moment with him.

As the cab drove through the busy streets, Lois sat back and unleashed the floodgates of her mind, freeing her maelstrom of Clark thoughts.

Henderson said Clark had been trying to protect her.

But Clark would try to protect anyone.

That was just Clark.

It didn’t necessarily mean he loved her.

It didn’t mean he loved her the way he had loved her before she had rejected him and accepted Luthor’s proposal of marriage.

But he hadn’t loved Mayson. And he didn’t love Lana.

That seemed hopeful.

But perhaps she, Lois, had hurt him so deeply that he’d refused to allow himself to fall in love with anyone.

The cab pulled up at the train station. Lois paid the driver and got out, searching for the familiar figure of Clark Kent.

She couldn’t see him.

With a sigh of regret, she went over to a group of rescue workers. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“Superman came,” was the bright reply. “He’s already gotten two of them out, and we’re expecting he’ll be here any minute with the third.”

“Any injuries?”

“Nothing major. A broken ankle and a couple of scratches. It could have been a lot worse.”

Lois took her pen and notepad from her bag. “Where were they trapped?”

“Near the front of the train. A section of the train gave way, and the tunnel came with it.”

A woman took up the story. “Without Superman, it would have taken hours to get past the wreck to reach them. And the tunnel could have gone again.”

As Lois watched, the familiar spandex-clad figure emerged from the station, carrying a middle-aged man. Superman took the victim to the ambulance and waited a moment, talking with the paramedics and the victim.

When he turned away, a cry rose from the gathered media. “Superman! Superman!” He strode over to where they were gathered, and Lois sprinted to join them.

They fired questions at him — about the condition of the victims, about the injuries, about what had caused the tunnel to give way, about the likelihood of it happening again. He answered all of their questions as he always had — simply, directly, and without undue emphasis on his part in the events.

The intensity of the questions dwindled, and with a nod, Superman turned to leave. Lois ducked around the reporters and went to his side. He turned to her. “Hello, Lois.”

She looked around to check that no one could hear them. “Why didn’t you tell the police you helped Clark look for Lana after Mayson Drake was killed?”

He looked as if her question had flummoxed him completely. “I ...”

“You knew Clark was going to be questioned by the police. He was deliberately evasive, trying to hide your part in this. If you’d been honest and told them you helped him look for Lana, he wouldn’t have felt the need to dodge questions and this case could have been solved a lot sooner.”

Superman’s mouth fell open. Something in his dazed expression fired Lois’s simmering annoyance.

“What were you scared of?” she asked. “That it might hurt the great superhero’s standing to be linked to a murder? Or were you worried that Clark was going to be charged, and you just wanted to distance yourself from him?”

“Ah ...” His stumbling word ran aground.

“I can’t believe you deserted your friend when he was in trouble,” Lois said. “Clark tried to keep you out of it. But your only thought was for yourself.”

“Lois, I ...”

“And to make matters worse, you went to Perry White and confused him so much, he thought you were warning him that Clark was likely to hurt me.”

“No, I –”

“Clark needed you, and you were more interested in preserving your own reputation than helping a friend.” Lois rammed home her point by poking his chest, above and to the left of his ‘S’. It jolted her finger, which hurt, but it felt good to have expressed her frustration. “You might have saved a lot of lives in the tunnel, but when it comes to real friendship, you could learn a lot from Clark.”

Lois turned and stormed away, feeling a measure of satisfaction that she had reduced him to speechlessness.

She looked around the crowd for Clark, but he wasn’t there. Figuring he had probably left the police station by now, she caught a cab to the Daily Planet office.

***

Dressed again in his jeans and sweater, Clark walked numbly down the sidewalk, befogged by a cloud of confusion called Lois Lane.

He doubted he would ever fully understand her, but right now, he was so perplexed that no two thoughts seemed to fit together with any cohesion.

She’d told him she was wrong. He’d assumed she meant she was wrong about him being innocent. He hadn’t been able to determine any basis for a change of mind — she’d said she was wrong before Wolfe and Henderson had come and arrested him on the strength of having found the murder weapon.

But when Clark searched his weary mind, he couldn’t fathom what else she could have meant.

And then, there was his release from the cell. Wolfe had said that Lois had found Lana. His fears about what would happen if those two women came together had reared into panic until Wolfe had assured him that Lois was all right. Even so, when he’d emerged from the subway, he’d been immensely relieved to spot her in the crowd.

Had Lana tracked Lois? Found her? Threatened her? How had Lois escaped?

And then, tangling everything further was Lois’s strange behaviour at the rescue site. For the first time ever, she’d seemed disappointed with Superman.

But her anger had seemed to stem from the belief that Superman had mistreated Clark.

Lois had berated Superman! In defence of Clark!

Yep, Clark decided. In the last twelve hours, the world had gone crazy.

He looked around, finally taking note of his whereabouts. He was a couple of blocks from the Planet office, although he hadn’t consciously steered his feet in any direction.

Perhaps Lois was there. That felt normal — to seek out his partner and best friend.

If she were at her desk, what sort of a reception would he get? Was she, right now, writing up the story of Mayson’s murder? And if she were, would she include any mention of Superman’s part in it?

Would he, Clark, be able to convince her that public censure of Superman wouldn’t serve any purpose?

It certainly wouldn’t bring back Mayson.

He arrived at the doors of the Daily Planet building and went through the lobby to the elevator, his heart accelerating inside his chest. Perry and Jimmy must have heard that Clark Kent had been a suspect in Mayson’s murder. Had Lois told them he hadn’t done it? Did they have any lingering doubts about his innocence?

The elevator rattled upwards and stopped at his floor. The doors opened, and Clark stepped out. His head turned; his eyes sought.

Lois.

She was at her desk. As if responding to some sixth sense, she looked up from her computer screen, and their gazes met.

Around him, Clark was aware of the feeling of many eyes following him and the whisper of many tongues announcing his arrival, but he ignored them. Only one person’s opinion mattered.

She rose and came towards him, her smile warm. When she reached him, her hand ran down his arms. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just a bit dazed.”

“Did Wolfe tell you why they let you go?”

“He said you’d found the murderer.”

She turned, putting a little pressure on his elbow and guiding him down the stairs, into the bullpen, and to his desk. “I’ve finished the story about the second subway collapse,” she said. “If I send it to you, can you check it for me?”

“I wasn’t there.”

She smiled before returning to her desk. “Would you read it, anyway?” she asked. “I’d appreciate your input.”

Was there a particular reason she wanted him to read her work? Had she included something in her story that was going to be controversial? Something about Superman? Or was she just trying to ease him through these first few minutes back in the office? “OK.” Clark turned on his computer and waited to log on.

His patience ran out before his computer was ready. He stood and went to Lois’s desk. She looked up from her monitor and smiled again. He tried to smile in return, wishing his mental state were such that he could fully appreciate the palpable concern emanating from her.

“You OK?” she asked.

“Lois, what did you mean when you said you were wrong about me? Did you have doubts about my innocence?”

Her mouth fell a little. “No,” she said. “No, of course not.”

The fog of his mind wasn’t getting any thinner. “Then what did you mean?”

She stood from her seat, and came closer to him, hitching her thigh on her desk. “I’m not sure here is the right place for this discussion,” she said quietly. “I promise you we’ll talk later.”

Clark glanced around the bullpen and realised that most people were pretending not to watch them. “Please, Lois,” he whispered desperately. “It’s been such a confusing day. Could you just give me something? A hint? Anything?”

“Remember the day at Centennial Park?”

There had been many days at Centennial Park, but one was lodged forever in his memory. “Uh huh.”

“I was wrong,” she said.

“Wrong about me?”

“About you. About how I felt. About what I wanted.”

Clark felt as if he were trying to capture wisps of smoke and hold them tightly in his hand. “Wh...what do you want?”

“I want to be with you.”

“As friends?” he said cautiously.

“As friends.” She found his eyes and lingered there, igniting him. “And so much more.”

“More?” he uttered, not daring to hope.

“I was wrong about only loving you as a friend. I was wrong about not feeling that way about you.”

The cloud of Clark’s confusion solidified. “Ah ...” None of Superman’s powers were useful in dragging something articulate from the congealed mass of his mind.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lois said, her voice soft with understanding. “I don’t expect anything from you. I know this has been an incredibly difficult day for you, and it’s only natural that you’re not going to want to deal with something like this now. I wish I hadn’t spoken.”

“You wish you hadn’t told me?”

“Not then. Not now. My timing sucked.”

He felt a hint of a smile begin, but he wasn’t sure if it ever materialised. “You weren’t to know the cops would turn up at exactly the wrong moment.”

“While I was away last week, I had a lot of time to think. I decided I was going to tell you, but when I got back, everything was in turmoil. Then we got a quiet moment alone, and you said you weren’t in love with Lana or Mayson, and the words just spurted out.”

He could never have loved either woman. But Lois ... “If Wolfe and Henderson hadn’t interrupted us, what would you have said?”

“That I wanted you to know how much I regret what I said that day.”

“Do you regret it because you know it hurt me?”

She nodded. “I will always regret that I hurt you. But it’s more than that. I got it so very wrong, and ...” Her voice trailed off.

Clark leaned forward, aligning their eyes. “And?” he prompted gently.

“And I wish I could go back and have that chance again.”

The implications of what she was saying were too huge for him to grasp. “Does this have anything to do with Mayson being murdered?”

“No.” Lois’s hand inched along the desk, and her fingertips settled over his. “How about we get these stories written and get to some place where we can be alone and talk in private?”

That sounded like the best idea Clark had ever heard.

Lois squeezed his hand. “I’ll send you my story about Mayson’s murder as I write it,” she said. “That way, we can work on it together.”

“But ... but I don’t what happened. Wolfe didn’t tell me –”

“We’ll get the stories written — that’ll give you some detail — and then we’ll go someplace quiet and I’ll answer every question you have.”

Do you love me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? That we have a chance?

But Lois had slipped back to her chair, her fingers hovering above the keyboard as her eyes skipped over her copy.

Clark turned back to his desk, forcing reluctant feet to walk away.

“Oh, Clark?” Her voice came from behind him, loud and clear.

He turned.

“I never believed for one second that you had hurt Mayson.”

He didn’t know whether her firm declaration was for his benefit or for the benefit of the rest of the bullpen. “Thank you,” he said, wanting his voice to be as loud and clear as hers, but finding it got lost somewhere in the ball of emotion that had risen up this throat.

She sent him a smile — full of everything he loved most about her ... and laced with something else, too.

His mind wasn’t ready to believe it could be love.

But his heart was doing a celebratory dance around his ribcage.

He sat in his seat and opened his email account. Lois’s story about the rescue of the three workers in the subway was there. He opened it and tried to force his attention to her words.

But mere words — even Lois’s words — were not enough. He’d missed her so much. A whole week away from her ... and then hours of wondering if he would ever be with her again.

Then ... this.

I was wrong.

He had to connect with her again — even if it were the most mundane of connections. He rose from his seat and returned to her desk. She looked up at him expectantly, and he tensed, wondering if he’d annoyed her with his interruption. But her smile came, reassuring him. “Coffee?” he asked with as much nonchalance as he was able to muster.

“Sure. Thanks.”

He pulled himself away from the lure of her lovely brown eyes and found his way to the coffee machine. He poured two coffees from habit, glad he didn’t have to give the task any thought. He left one cup at his desk and went on to Lois’s. She gave him another smile as he put her cup on her desk.

“Thanks, Clark.”

He had so many questions. Questions about how she’d managed to convince Wolfe to release him. Questions about what had happened with Lana. Questions about her feelings. Questions about their future.

“Did you read the rescue story?” she asked.

“I needed coffee,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I wasn’t finding it easy to concentrate.”

“That’s OK,” she said. “Just read it through, and if you think it’s OK, could you send it on to Perry?”

Clark returned to his desk, wondering how she would portray Superman’s involvement in the rescue. The email contained no comment, just the attached file, which he opened. Her story was relatively short and contained mostly facts. The condition of the tunnel. The condition of the workers who had been trapped. The forecast for when parts of the subway could be re-opened. A quote from the chief engineer about the stability of the subway system.

He deleted a comma, added a missing ‘to’, and forwarded it to Perry.

He checked his email again, but nothing else had arrived from Lois. He opened a couple of other — unimportant — emails that had arrived since he’d left last night.

Jimmy came up to his desk. “Hi, CK,” he said tentatively.

“Hi, Jimmy,” Clark replied, his tone even.

“I was sorry to hear about Mayson Drake.”

Did he actually mean he was sorry to hear that Clark had been accused of murdering her? “Thank you,” Clark replied woodenly.

“I’m so glad it worked out in the end.”

It hadn’t worked out — for either Mayson or Lana — but Clark could see that the kid was uncomfortable, so he gave him a solemn smile and said, “Thanks, Jimmy.”

“If you need anything ...”

“Thanks.”

“Although Lois seems to have it all under control.”

“Yeah. She’s writing the story now.”

“The Chief said he wants to see you in your office.”

Clark’s heart dropped as he rose from his seat. He didn’t want to face more questions. He didn’t want to talk about Mayson’s death. He didn’t want to be grilled about why it had taken him so long to front up at the police station.

He tapped on Perry’s door and entered when the editor invited him in.

“Clark,” Perry said. “Sit down. I got Lois’s story about the follow-up rescue. It came from your account, but your name isn’t in the by-line.”

Clark felt a measure of relief that the question was so benign. “All I did was look over it for her,” he said. “It’s her story.”

Perry nodded. “Now she’s working on the story of the arrest in the Drake murder.”

It hadn’t been a question, but Clark answered anyway. “Yes.”

“She’s an amazing woman.”

“Yes.”

Perry tossed his pencil onto his desk and focussed his attention squarely on Clark. “That girl would not believe for one second that you had killed Mayson Drake,” he said. “The case against you looked conclusive, but she just kept on saying that Clark Kent didn’t kill and he didn’t run away.”

Clark swallowed, gulping loudly and hoping Perry wouldn’t see that he’d had to blink quickly a couple of times to keep his emotions in check.

“She simply wouldn’t accept it. She was in here, rolling her eyes and tapping her foot as if she were having to restrain herself from ramming the words back down my throat. I … ah ….” If it had been anyone other than Perry, Clark would have thought the editor was trying hard not to squirm. “I … I’m glad things turned out the way they did … for you … and I’m sorry … Well, when you’ve been in this job as long as I have ...”

Clark nodded, unable to draft something appropriate from the blank of his mind.

Perry snapped back into Chief-mode. “Try to talk some common sense into Lois, will you?” he said briskly. “I’ve been trying for years and obviously, I’ve failed. Perhaps you will be more successful.”

Clark doubted that. “I still don’t know what she did that led to the arrest,” he admitted.

Perry’s sternness dissolved to an allusion of a smile. “I’m sure it will be in her story. You should get out there and see if she needs any help.”

“Yes, sir.” Clark stepped from Perry’s office, his gaze snapping to Lois’s desk as his mind rattled with unanswered questions and his heart expanded with love.

What had she risked in order to clear his name?

She’d never made a secret of the fact that she believed in Superman.

But after today ...

Perhaps she believed in Clark, too.

“I’ve just sent you the first part,” Lois said as Clark approached his desk.

“OK. I’ll look over it.”

For the next half an hour, Clark read the incoming parts of Lois’s story about Lana’s arrest. Similar to the rescue story, it was mostly facts, briefly outlining how the deputy DA had been found dead, giving some details of the investigation, and finishing with the statement that a woman in her twenties had been arrested that morning. She’d reduced Clark Kent’s involvement to being the owner of the apartment where the murder had taken place and a mutual friend of the two women.

But there was nothing that answered the questions burning in his mind. How had Lois proved Lana’s guilt? How had Lois caused Lana’s arrest?

According to Lois’s story, she was only the reporter.

When he reached the end of her story, Clark rose and went to her desk. She had the phone tucked against her ear, but she smiled up at him. “I’m just waiting for Henderson to come to the phone,” she said. “I need to check a couple of facts and see if there are any further developments I can include.”

“You didn’t mention Lana’s name.”

“No. I said enough to kill the Star’s story claiming you were the murderer, but I figured it might be easier on her family if they didn’t find out via the media.”

Clark tried to keep the surprise from his face.

Lois chuckled. “Usually you’re the one thinking about everyone’s feelings and I’m the one demanding we be brutally professional.”

Clark could only nod.

“Perry’s running an afternoon and an evening edition today on account of the subway collapse,” Lois said. “This story can go in the afternoon edition, and we’ll do a follow-up when things become clearer.”

“OK.”

“Did you read it?” Lois asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And it’s a good story, but ...”

“But it didn’t answer all of your questions?”

“It didn’t really answer any of them.”

She smiled at that. “That’s why we’re getting out of here as soon as I’ve sent this to Perry.” She uncovered the phone, lurched to a straighter position in her chair, and picked up a pen. “Henderson?”

Clark returned to his desk and quickly skimmed through Lois’s story again. He sent a copy, including a couple of minor edits, back to her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Lois there. “No further developments,” she said. “They’re still waiting for some forensic work — more fingerprinting and a gunshot residue test on the leather jacket. Everything is moving slowly with the subway out of action.”

“Did he say how Lana is?”

“She’s asked for a lawyer. She confirmed you weren’t there when Mayson died, but then she got angry and refused to answer any more questions.”

“But she’s OK?”

“She said she was hungry.”

“Did they give her something to eat?”

“Yes,” Lois said, lightly squeezing his shoulder. “I asked specifically. Henderson also said they’d offered her a doctor’s check, but she declined.”

“I hope the baby is going to be all right,” Clark said dolefully.

Lois’s hand stayed on his shoulder, spreading lovely warmth down his arm. “It’s not your responsibility,” she said. “You didn’t make Lana do what she did. You didn’t –”

“I just feel as if there should have been a way to avert this whole senseless tragedy,” Clark said.

Her smile felt like tangible comfort. “Did you make any changes to my story?”

“Just a couple of typos.”

“Send it to Perry, and close down your computer. We’re leaving.”

“Did you OK it with Perry?” Clark asked. “It’s not even midday yet.”

“I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I’m betting you didn’t either. I haven’t eaten today. I need food and rest. I told Perry we’ll be back later to get him updates for the evening edition.”

We. That one word was the embodiment of everything Clark yearned for. He submitted Lois’s story and began shutting down his computer.

But as he waited, a vein of despondency seeped through his anticipation.

If there was to be anything between him and Lois — anything beyond being friends and partners — he had to tell her the truth.

He’d often worried that telling her Clark Kent was Superman would lower her opinion of Superman and provoke her annoyance with Clark. Now, it seemed possible that telling her could lower her opinion of Clark and cause her to be exasperated with both of them.

He wanted to be optimistic. He wanted to hope that this day would end with the way ahead becoming clearer for him and Lois.

But as much as he tried, he couldn’t grasp solid perspective from the fog of confusion and bewilderment.

Lois had said she regretted her actions that day in Centennial Park. She’d strongly alluded to wanting more than friendship.

Clark willed his spirit to celebrate, but the gloom wouldn’t shift.

There was one final hurdle. A huge hurdle. And Clark wasn’t at all sure they would be able to overcome it.

Part 14

Having decided against getting a cab and joining the dawdling, congested traffic, Lois walked alongside Clark towards his apartment.

He didn’t seem eager to talk, but she was unsure whether it was because he wanted to wait until the privacy of his apartment or whether he was using this oasis of silence to try to come to terms with everything that had happened in the past few hours.

Either way, his quietness suited her. It allowed her the opportunity to grasp at the hazy assortment of idea fragments that were dangling just out of reach. She was missing something — a vital key that was needed to fit all the disparate pieces together.

Lois glanced up into Clark’s face. He responded with an unconvincing smile that didn’t smooth the anxiety from his eyes.

Was he worrying about what she had said? Was he, for the third time in a week, searching for the words to distance himself from a woman who wanted more than he was willing to give?

In little more than twelve hours, Clark’s life had been flung around like a tiny raft at the mercy of a raging sea. Before the storm had calmed, she’d blindsided him by announcing something she’d known for weeks — that her reply in Centennial Park had been hasty, ill-considered, born of fear, and just plain wrong.

Her timing could not have been worse if her deliberate intention had been to try to sabotage his already precarious world.

Even if — despite her actions — his love remained, starting a relationship was probably the last thing he wanted right now.

She wouldn’t push him.

She’d never had an abundance of patience, but she owed him time.

If he did still love her, he had waited and waited for her.

I have been in love with you for a long time.

She could still hear his words, could still feel his sincerity gently tapping on the doorway of her heart. Lois felt a smile pulling at her mouth as her mind skipped forward in time and threw together some snippets of possible scenarios if — by a miracle — Clark’s love had survived her rejection.

She longed to see him happy. And she yearned to be with him.

Was it possible that those two things could go together? Clark’s happiness and them being together?

A little thrill of possibility began to gather momentum, but the nagging questions refused to grant her the freedom to daydream. Lois had always been sure that Clark hadn’t killed Mayson, but that didn’t mean there weren’t gaps in her knowledge. Gaps demanding to be filled.

Why had Clark waited so long to go to the police station? Was it because he had been trying to protect Superman? Or because he had been trying to protect his partner from Lana’s threats?

How had the weapon ended up in the subway? Everything seemed to point to Superman having put it there, but Clark had told the police that he, Clark, had done it.

How could he have walked through the crowds and into the subway without being noticed? Henderson had said that Wolfe had had cops looking out for Clark Kent. The posters around town meant that Clark was becoming a familiar face. He and Lois had chased down enough stories, had been at enough rescue sites, to make it unlikely that not one of the police officers or emergency service workers had noticed Clark.

And surely, neither members of the public nor the press would have been allowed to just wander into the station and beyond, to the subway.

So how had the gun gotten to where the police had found it?

Was there a timing issue? Had Clark taken the gun from Lana before the subway had collapsed? Lois dismissed that line of thinking immediately. If the subway hadn’t collapsed yet, Clark could have gone to the police station, knowing Superman was available to watch Lana.

Had Clark lied to keep Superman from being implicated?

Had Superman taken the gun from Clark, but then Clark said he’d done it to protect Superman’s reputation from being sullied by being linked with a murder case?

If that was what had happened, why weren’t Superman’s fingerprints on the weapon?

Lois shook her head, trying to untangle the web of thoughts.

She glanced up at Clark. He was looking ahead, his face set.

They were closing in on his apartment — the place where his friend had been killed.

Facing it was going to be difficult. He must be physically exhausted. Mentally drained. Emotionally battered.

Giving in to her sudden impulse, Lois slipped her hand into Clark’s hand.

His fingers closed around hers, and they both kept walking.

How had that gun gotten into the subway? If she asked Clark outright, would he tell her the truth?

She chuckled silently as an idea blossomed amid the weeds of confusion. There was only one way she could see to make it feasible that Clark had put the gun in the subway.

Perhaps he’d been wearing a disguise.

He hadn’t been, of course. He’d worn the same clothes all night.

But it gave her some light relief from the nervousness that was building inside her.

She had declared her feelings for Clark, and now it felt as if they were wedged in a chasm. They were walking together, holding hands. The walking together was nothing new; the holding hands was unsettling testimony that things had changed between them.

The old had been left behind; the new lay ahead — unknown and scary.

“Does this feel strange to you?” Lois asked.

“Everything feels strange to me.”

“Since last night?”

Clark didn’t answer for a few steps. “Truthfully? Everything has felt strange since you left Metropolis a week ago.”

“Any reason?”

A whisper of his smile flickered for tiny moment. “Other than the obvious, you mean?”

“The obvious being ...”

“That you weren’t here. That I was working alone. Without my partner.”

“Did you miss me?” Lois asked, figuring that, although it could be considered a question running contrary to her vow not to pressure him, he could answer casually if he chose to.

“Every moment,” he said.

The solemnity of his reply settled around them, adding to the potpourri of emotions. “I missed you, too,” Lois said. It was the truth.

They turned the final corner, and the door to Clark’s apartment came into view. “Are you going to be all right?” Lois asked.

“Yeah. We were here before.”

“But that was only for a few minutes.”

“It’s my home. I can’t stay away forever.”

They stopped at the door, and Lois took Clark’s keys from her bag. Before she handed them to him, she said, “Don’t underestimate how traumatic this has been. It’s going to take some time to get your mind around what happened.”

“I’ll be OK.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t have to pretend to me,” Lois said. “We’re friends.”

He grimaced as if that word had the power to hack through his heart, causing further pain.

“Clark …” Lois lifted her hand towards his arm, hovered in indecision, and then dropped it to her side. “You seem perturbed by what I said. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Clark shook his head. “No,” he said. “No. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Then what’s bothering you so much?”

His eyes fell. “I’m not sure you’re going to appreciate mine,” he said, despair and weariness cloaking his words.

“Oh.” She stared at the keys, fighting back her tears. Had he lied? About why he hadn’t gone to the police station earlier? About how his prints had gotten onto the gun? No — this wasn’t about the murder. This was about them. Her mistimed confession. “You don’t feel that way about me?”

He slipped the keys from her hand. “We need to talk.”

***

Clark opened the door of his apartment and walked in.

The stairs loomed before him.

He doubted he would ever see them again without the image of Mayson’s body assaulting his mind.

“Perhaps it would be better if we went to my apartment,” Lois said from behind him.

“No!” he said. The vehemence of the word surprised him, and he turned to Lois to try to explain. “If I hadn’t tried to dodge being honest with Mayson ...”

She placed her hand on his back and applied a little pressure.

The irony and sweetness of her touch — a gesture he had used so many times — broke into his gloominess and infused his heart with a trickle of fresh hope.

Perhaps it was going to be all right.

Perhaps his secret wouldn’t erode their progress. Perhaps Lois would still regret her response in Centennial Park that day.

Her hand guided him down the stairs and to the sofa. They sat down, tilted towards each other, but not touching.

She waited for him to speak. The words boomed through his mind — Lois, I’m Superman - but he couldn’t release them.

“Where do you want to start?” she asked.

When all the extraneous clutter was trimmed away, what he really wanted to know was if her feelings for him gave them any chance of being together the way he longed to be with her. But if he asked, and she answered, and then he told, and she freaked ...

Perhaps it would be better to honest first. Then ... if she still wanted to be with him, at least she would know the whole truth.

“How about you start at the beginning?” she suggested. “Just tell me what happened in your own words.”

“OK,” he agreed. If he started at the beginning, they would come to the point where Superman had been called away to help the child in the drain. That would lead to the much greater truth. Perhaps he could just slip it in and hope it looked natural.

Lois smiled her encouragement.

“I saw a fair bit of Mayson this last week,” Clark said. “She wanted to go out on dates ... She came here and cooked a meal ... I cooked for her.”

Lois waited, although Clark could almost see her curiosity driving questions around her mind.

“I realised she probably wanted more from our friendship, but I didn’t love her.” He looked at Lois, needing her reassurance. “I knew I would never love her.”

“But you didn’t tell her?”

“No. Walking home from the newsroom last night, I was thinking about it and I decided that the next time I saw her, I would tell her. But when I got here, Lana was here.”

“With big plans?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t seen her in over a year, and I’d barely thought of her in all that time. I was concerned about her — being pregnant and seeming to be so agitated and irrational. I was still trying to make her see reason when Mayson arrived.”

“That didn’t go well?”

Clark released a tight pent-up breath of apprehension at the memory of the two women facing each other. “No. Lana told Mayson that I was with her, Mayson got upset and left.”

“You followed her?”

“Yeah. I tried ...” What had he been trying to do? “I couldn’t fix anything because some of what Lana had said was the truth — I didn’t want to be with Mayson in that way. I just wish I had told her earlier. It would have hurt her, but not as much as when Lana did it. And, perhaps she’d still be alive.”

Lois’s hand rested lightly on his knee. He shuffled an inch towards her, wondering how she would react if she knew how much he craved her touch. “You came back to the apartment?” she asked.

“Yeah. Lana was triumphant. In her mind, everything was settled.”

“So you left?”

“Yeah.” He should say it now. I heard a call for help — a child — so I had to leave.

“I guess you needed time to think.”

“I needed to ...” He braved a glance directly into her eyes and was caught there in the outpouring of her concern. His heart exploded as the truth hit him. It was more than concern. It was love.

Lois loved him.

More than friends.

More than partners.

He felt as if he were drowning in a whirlpool of intense feeling.

Lois loved him.

And she was making no attempt to hide her feelings.

She leaned towards him. Her face came a little closer. Her hand reached for his cheek.

A tap on the door shattered their fragile connection.

Clark was jolted from the sweet snare of anticipation.

His shock was mirrored in Lois’s face. “That ... that was the door,” she gulped.

Please, he thought as he rose from the sofa, please don’t let it be the police. Not again.

It wasn’t the police. It was his neighbour, Mrs McCreadie.

“Mr Kent,” she said. “I saw your arrive with Ms Lane, and I had to come and tell you how sorry I am that my statement got you into trouble.”

He pulled a smile from the sea of his swirling emotions. “It’s all right, Mrs McCreadie,” he said. “You had to tell the police what you saw.”

“But I should have known you wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Thank you. How’s Pannikin?”

She launched into a detailed account of her cat’s progress. Clark listened, nodding occasionally and trying not to be too obvious is his desire to get back to his conversation with Lois.

***

As Lois watched Clark talking with Mrs McCreadie, her questions flooded back with all the force of a tsunami.

Why had Clark left Lana in his apartment?

Lois knew he had a propensity for suddenly running off. It was something he had never satisfactorily explained.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realised there had always been gaps in Clark Kent’s life.

And now, there was another big gap. Where had he been during the long hours between being told of Mayson’s death and going to the police station?

What had he been doing?

What had been more important than declaring his innocence?

If he had been trying to protect her, why hadn’t he come to her and told her Lana had threatened to kill her?

If he’d believed that Lana was capable of killing again, why hadn’t he called 911 and had them both taken to the police station?

Mrs McCreadie finished her report on Pannikin’s health, and Clark bid her goodbye.

He closed the door, turned, gave Lois a guarded smile, and then walked down the stairs, being careful to avoid the place where Mayson had lain.

Another question flared in Lois’s brain.

How did Clark know Mayson had been in exactly that position?

As he walked down the stairs, she tried to recall exact details of coming here to collect Clark’s clothes. As soon as they’d walked in, his eyes had been fixed to the spot.

How could he have known?

Clark hadn’t been in his apartment during the time Mayson’s body had been on the stairs.

Superman had.

Had he told Clark where Mayson had fallen? Perhaps he had mentioned the stairs, but why would he have been so specific that Clark knew exactly where Mayson had died?

How had Clark avoided being seen at the rescue site?

How had he known the location of Mayson’s body?

Where had he been during the hours when Superman had been in the subway?

Why hadn’t anyone seen him?

Clark reached the bottom of the stairs, his head lifted, and his eyes found hers.

And then, she saw.

The truth.

The incredible truth.

***

Clark sat down on the sofa next to Lois. She was gazing at him intently, but her expression was unreadable. The love he had thought he had seen just a few moments ago seemed to have retreated behind a veil.

He needed to tell her the truth. “Lois, I’m –”

“I’m sorry I left in such a rush a week ago,” she said.

He hadn’t been expecting her to re-start their conversation with that particular topic.

Lois was gazing at her hands, where her fingers had coiled around each other as they sat in her lap. “I got a call, and ... It was Mom.”

“It was a difficult week?”

“Yeah.”

He capped her hands with his. “You OK?”

“It was just so distressing. Her life. Her pain. And the atmosphere was so … so hopeless.”

“She’s in the right place to get the help she needs,” Clark said.

“It was as if I were being shown a glimpse of the future. My future. And I really didn’t like what I saw.”

“Your future is going to be wonderful,” he said, hoping he was speaking the truth for both of them.

“But ... it was so hard to see her so ... so angry and ...”

“She’s fortunate to have a daughter like you,” he said.

“I’m not sure that has always been true,” Lois said with a trembling smile.

He squeezed her hand. She said nothing. Clark withdrew his touch and shuffled back a little, searching for words that wouldn’t heartlessly dismiss her distress but could possibly lead them back to their discussion before Mrs McCreadie’s interruption. “You seemed to have spent some time thinking.”

“I did,” Lois said. “About a lot of things.”

“Including us? And that day in Centennial Park?”

“Yeah.” She sat up straighter. “You must wonder how I could have agreed to marry Luthor.”

Clark had obsessed over that until it had driven him to despair. “That was ... that was unfortunate,” he said.

“That was fear.”

He waited.

“When you said you had been in love with me for a long time, you also said that I had to have known.” Her eyes lifted and crashed into his. “Of course, I knew, Clark. And more than that, I knew that if I searched my heart — right down into the depths of it, under the calluses of past disappointments and hurts — I would discover that I felt more for you than friendship, too.”

“But?”

“But I was scared,” Lois said, her eyes shining so transparently, he felt as if he could see her soul. “I could see what we could have, and it terrified me. I knew your love would be eternal. Pure. Perfect. Steadfast. I knew that if I said ‘yes’ to you, it would be a lifelong commitment.”

“Any marrying Luthor wasn’t?”

She didn’t flinch at his tone. “I didn’t love Lex. Nothing he could do could reach my heart. But you ... you touched my heart with every smile, every word, every little act of concern, every kindness.”

“And that scared you away?” Clark said, grappling for comprehension. “Because I was too intense?”

“It wasn’t your fault. You had never pressured me before the day in Centennial Park, and you’ve been such a good friend since then. You even denied your love because you thought that would make it easier for me to go back to us being friends.”

Clark grimaced. “You knew about that?”

“Not until recently. And even now, I don’t know. Not for sure. But I have hope.”

His heart was thumping loud enough to set off earthquake alarms in California. “Hope for what?” he said.

“Perhaps your love didn’t die, even though I wanted you to watch me marry another man?”

“I don’t think anything could kill my love for you,” Clark declared. There, the truth was out. Some of it, anyway.

Lois took his hand and cradled it in both of hers. “Being friends is good. Being partners is wonderful. But maybe we could be more.”

“More?” he echoed, knowing that, if this were a dream, he wouldn’t survive the devastation of waking up.

She stood, and he stood with her, completely amenable to whatever direction she chose for them now. She released his hand, and it dropped to hang against his thigh. She reached over to his shirt. She unbuttoned the top three buttons as his heart detonated, sending shockwaves through his ribs.

She slid the flap of his shirt aside and leant forward.

She dropped a soft kiss onto his chest.

Right where she’d poked Superman.

She backed away. Her head rose. Her eyes burned. “Guess it’s a good thing you don’t bruise,” she said.

His head was spinning; his heart was leaping; his lungs had collapsed from lack of oxygen. He swallowed, peeling his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “You ... you ...”

A knock sounded on the door. They groaned together.

“We are going to my apartment,” Lois stated. “We are going to lock the door and take the phone off the hook.”

Clark dragged himself away from her. He looked through the door as he approached it and saw his parents. He opened the door, and his mother flew forward to wrap him in his arms. “Clark!” she said. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

His father slapped his shoulder. “We went to the police station and talked to a detective called Inspector Henderson,” he said. “He said you’d been released and that Lana was going to be charged with Ms Drake’s murder.”

“Yeah,” Clark said, gesturing them into his home.

When his mom saw Lois, she ran down the stairs, her arms outstretched. “Lois,” she said. “Thank you for what you did for Clark.”

Clark and his father followed more slowly. After hugging Lois enthusiastically, his mom turned to Clark. “You are so fortunate to have Lois as a friend,” she said.

But friendship would never be enough. “Yeah,” he managed, aware of the deficiency of his response. He pulled up seats for himself and his dad as the women sat on the sofa.

“This must have been so difficult for you, Clark,” his mom said. Her eyes swung to Lois. “And it probably wouldn’t be over yet if it weren’t for Lois.”

Lois gave a self-conscious smile and concentrated her gaze on the floor.

“Lois and I just got back here,” Clark said. “She hasn’t gotten around to telling me all the details of how the police found Lana.”

“Inspector Henderson said you were going to be charged,” Jonathan said. “But Lois kept working until she found the weaknesses in their case.”

“I ... I didn’t do much,” Lois said.

“You found Lana,” Clark said. “How did you do that?”

“I ... ah ...”

His mom jumped in. “She pretended to move herself into your apartment, hoping that Lana’s possessiveness would lure her out of hiding. And it worked perfectly.”

“You knew Lana was watching my apartment?” Clark asked, addressing his question to Lois.

“It seemed likely,” she replied. “When we came back here to get your clothes, the cosmetics had been taken from the bathroom, so I knew she had been here.”

Martha continued the story. “Lois was right. Lana was watching, and when she saw Lois, she came in here. She admitted to having killed Ms Drake and said she was going to kill Lois.”

Clark shot Lois an anguished look. She shrugged slightly.

“But what Lana didn’t know was that Lois was taping the entire encounter,” Jonathan said.

“How close did she get to pulling the trigger?” Clark asked Lois.

“It wasn’t anything –”

“Lo-is.”

“OK,” she said with an awkward chuckle. “She got pretty close.”

Clark looked up to the ceiling, trying to drive away the image of Lois, bleeding and lifeless as Mayson had been.

“I had to do something,” Lois said. “Once Wolfe had the weapon with your fingerprints on it, I knew we were never going to prove you hadn’t killed Mayson. We had to prove beyond any doubt that someone else had. For that, we needed a confession.”

“What stopped her from killing you?” Clark asked, his voice tightened by the razor wire curled around his heart.

“Mrs McCreadie.”

“Mrs McCreadie?” A couple of pieces fell into place in Clark’s mind. “She was watching my door, and she called 911?”

“That’s what I was hoping would happen. But instead, she came to your door, and it turns out she is a very good shot.” Lois pointed to a place on his floor. “Sorry about the damage. She said she was aiming between Lana’s feet.”

Clark didn’t care about the floor. “Mrs McCreadie didn’t hit Lana?”

“No. And Lana didn’t actually fire her gun either, so we were both OK.”

Clark shook his head, aware that annoyance and worry were rife in his expression. “Lo-is ...”

She gave him a little smile. “I couldn’t let them charge you,” she said. “The Star had already run the story about you being questioned. Even if you weren’t convicted, people would always wonder about you. I had to stop that from happening.”

Martha folded her hand around Lois’s. “Thank you, honey,” she said. “Thank you for helping Clark.”

Swallowing down his surge of protest at Lois’s actions, Clark said, “Have Ray and Millie been told their daughter is being charged with murder?”

His mom’s face lined with concern. “We haven’t heard. We’ve been on a plane most of the morning. When we arrived in Metropolis, we went straight from the airport to the police station.”

“It’s going to be hard for them,” Jonathan said quietly. “I know Ray has been worried about Lana for a long time. That’s why he paid for her European vacation — he hoped it would help her settle down.”

Martha stood. “We should get back to Smallville,” she said. “We might be able to help them.”

Lois stood, too. “But won’t that take hours? Won’t they have left by the time you get back?”

“Perhaps we should stay in Metropolis and be here when they arrive,” Martha suggested with a glance at her husband.

Lois took a few steps away from the little group. “Why don’t you fly them home, Clark?” she said over her shoulder. “I’m going to order some Chinese takeout. I’m starving.”

His mom and dad spun to Clark, their faces vivid with questions. He responded with a baffled shrug. They all turned to Lois.

She had picked up the phone. When she finished dialling, she noticed them gaping at her. “Go on,” she said with a gesture towards the door. “You’ll be back by the time the takeout arrives, Clark. You must be hungry, too.”

She turned away and began speaking into the phone, giving the details of her order.

Utterly devoid of ideas about what he should do now, Clark obediently spun into the Suit, wordlessly picked up his parents, and flew them to Smallville, Kansas.

Part 15

Clark flew back to Metropolis at less than superspeed, giving himself some much-needed time to sort through the conglomeration of scrambled questions that were glugging up his brain.

Lois knew.

She knew he was Superman. She knew he had been lying to her for the entire length of their friendship.

She knew that, despite having declared himself in love with her, he hadn’t been willing to tell her the whole truth.

It had never seemed to matter to Lois that Superman was an alien. Would it matter that Clark Kent — her friend and partner, and the man she had risked her life trying to save — was an alien?

Clark didn’t know. He had always worried about being different.

Were those differences now going to rob him of everything — real and hoped for — he had with Lois?

Pulling stands of logic from the confusion, he managed enough equanimity to realise that his most pressing decision was how to re-enter his own apartment.

Did he fly to the balcony and walk in as Superman?

Did he fly to the alley near his home, spin into his jeans and shirt, and walk into his apartment via the door?

Or did he just appear in his living room?

Lois knew he could fly.

Lois. Knew. He. Could. Fly.

For over a year, he had worried because she didn’t know. Now that she did, the previously simmering tension had risen to boiling point. She knew his secret. He had wanted that. But he’d never been able to overcome his fear about what would happen after she knew.

He suspected it would be as ferocious and destructive as the detonation of a bomb.

How long had she known?

Had she worked it out sometime during the long hours of the night when Superman had been rescuing trapped train passengers and Clark Kent had supposedly been running from a murder charge?

Regardless of when she had realised the truth — truth that, in some ways, had been playing out in front of her for a year — Clark was pretty sure the consequences were going to get ugly.

She was probably working up to it right now. She was probably recalling all the times he had been less than honest with her. Probably fuming over how he had continually deceived her.

What was he going to face when he walked back into his apartment?

Cold detachment? Fiery anger? Cutting sarcasm?

Would she even be there?

But how bad would it be? How long would it last? And what would be the eventual cost of the fallout?

She must have known when she’d pulled back his shirt and kissed his chest.

He’d been so shocked by her action that his memory of it had already lost clarity.

Would she ever kiss him again?

She had angrily poked Superman’s chest and inexplicably kissed Clark’s. Based on that, Clark landed in the alley, spun into his jeans and shirt, and approached his door with faltering steps as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.

He tapped lightly but didn’t wait for her to answer. He opened the door, slipped in, and carefully locked it behind him, praying there would be no further interruptions.

His apartment was empty.

Then he saw movement on the balcony, and Lois came through the door and walked towards him. “I know how you left without Mrs McCreadie seeing you last night,” she said.

Clark slowly descended the stairs, feeling like a man awaiting his sentence.

She continued past his kitchen and walked right up to him. “Good flight?” she asked.

He buried his hands in his pockets and forced himself to face her. “Lois,” he said. It was a plea for information. And understanding. And mercy.

“Yes, Clark?” she said as if she were oblivious to the fact that suggesting a flight to Kansas without the aid of an airplane was in any way unusual.

He swallowed. He could feel the explosion gathering momentum. “Please. Please don’t –” Please don’t hate me. Please don’t reject me.

“I know why you didn’t go to the police station as soon as you knew they were looking for you,” Lois said.

All he could manage was a nod as he desperately tried to discern his future in her face.

“I know how you managed to get the gun into the subway without anyone seeing Clark Kent.”

“Ah ...”

“I know why you keep running off at the most inopportune moments.”

“They were inopportune for me, too,” he said, hoping her resentment would leave her some capacity to glimpse his point of view.

“Yeah, I suppose they were.”

Clark couldn’t stand the tension anymore. “Lois, I understand if you’re mad at me. I understand if you’re hurt that I lied to you all this time. I understand if you want to redefine whatever it is we have defined about our relationship. Whatever that might be. Or not.”

“You’re babbling,” she said, her mouth twitching.

“Lois, I’ve wanted to tell you –”

“What I don’t understand is how you thought you could continue to be two people and not eventually face something like this.”

“I ... I can move pretty quickly,” he offered tentatively. “That helps.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Clark growled with frustration.

Lois’s hand landed lightly on his arm. “See who it is,” she suggested. “If it’s anyone other than the takeout delivery kid, we’ll ignore it.”

Clark turned his head, lowered his glasses, and looked through the door. “It’s the takeout,” he said.

“Great,” Lois said. She sprang away from him, grabbed her bag from the couch, and sprinted up the stairs. “I feel as if I haven’t eaten in a week.”

Clark watched in a daze as she paid the delivery kid and then brought the steaming boxes of food back to him. She set them on the coffee table and went to his kitchen to get cutlery and plates.

When she sat down, the normalcy of two friends sharing a meal felt like fate taunting him.

Everything had changed.

She knew.

Lois knew she was sharing this meal with Superman.

While she ladled the food onto the plates, Clark tried to calm his spinning mind. From its confusion, he managed to form the most important question.

She offered him one of the plates.

He took it without even looking at the food. “Does this change anything?” he asked.

“It changes everything,” she said. Her calm acceptance cut deeper than the outrage he had been expecting.

“Everything?” he gulped.

“You won’t have to make up lame excuses whenever someone needs Superman. At least, not to me. You can just disappear and leave me to make up the lame excuses.”

“Lois, this isn’t a joke.”

She paused from filling her plate. “What is worrying you, Clark?”

“You must be angry,” he said. “You’ve just put your life in danger because of your strength of belief about who I am, only to discover that you didn’t know me at all.”

She looked a bit surprised at his outburst. “I knew the important things,” she said, sounding just a little defensive. “I knew you would never kill. I knew you would never run away from trouble.”

“But I do,” he exclaimed. “I run away all the time.”

“You run towards trouble, not away from it,” she said.

“Lois, I can’t believe you’re taking this so calmly. I think that when you realise how long I lied to you, you’re going to be really mad at me.”

She placed the serving spoon on her plate and contemplated him. “Why would you tell me anything about yourself when, the time you did open your heart, I trampled all over it?”

Surprise sucked away his stream of questions.

Her smile peeped out like the dawn of re-connection. “Clark, I wasn’t honest with you about who I am either. I’m a lonely and fearful woman, who freaked out when real love threatened to crumble her walls of isolation. You uncovered the real me — which made me feel vulnerable and scared, so I ran away. Now, I’ve uncovered the real you. Maybe that makes you feel vulnerable and scared. Maybe you need time to realise that I’m not going to use what I know to hurt you.” Her hand inched forward, and her fingertips pressed into the skin of his forearm. “But I’m really hoping you won’t run away.”

Clark stared at her, paralysed by her touch and astounded by her words. “I won’t,” he said in a voice that crackled with emotion. “I don’t want to ever run away from you.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Lois said as the side of her thumb slid gently over his skin. “I promise.”

“I never thought you would tell anyone ... write a story, or something like that.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s going to be an adjustment for both of us. But I think we can do it.”

“As partners?” Clark asked.

She nodded.

“And friends?”

“Best friends,” she replied.

“And ... and ... you said you regretted the day in Centennial Park.”

“Clark …”

Now it looked as if she regretted her impulsive moment of openness just before Wolfe had barged into her apartment and arrested him for Mayson’s murder. Clark could feel her backing away. He could feel his hopes slipping out of reach.

“Clark, you have to be really confused right now,” Lois said. “You have to be grieving about Mayson and shocked about Lana and trying to come to terms with me knowing about Superman.” Her hand slipped past his wrist to rest on his balled-up fist. “I just think you need some time. I promised you I wouldn’t push you into anything.”

“But …”

“But when you’ve had some time …” She gave him a little smile. “I think that what you need most of all now is a friend.”

“Sometimes I hate that word,” he said bitterly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t draw away. “I’m not running away from how I feel about you,” she said. “I’m acknowledging the strength of our bond of friendship. It will always be there.”

Clark released a breath. “Lois, Mayson paid a huge price because I couldn’t be honest with her about my feelings.”

“And you paid a price when you were honest with me about your feelings.”

“What happened to Mayson …” His grief rose again, a wave of sorrow, tainted with guilt and anger.

“… is not your fault.”

“If only I’d –”

“If you’d told her you weren’t in love with her, she could have been on the train that crashed in the subway,” Lois said. “We can’t know the consequences of everything we do.” Her hand squeezed his. “Even Superman can’t see into the future.”

“I wish he could.”

Her smile flickered. “Would you like me to give you a glimpse of the future as I see it?” she said.

Clark nodded, hoping she wouldn’t remove her hand.

“You need some time. You were friends with Mayson, and you need time to grieve for her. You’re probably going to be concerned for Lana and her baby. I don’t think you should make any decisions now. But when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you.”

He needed more now. “Show me what happens after some time has passed.”

Her hand lifted from his, and she reached up to glide her fingers through his hair, just above the wing of his glasses. “Then I think I’ll take you somewhere and tell you how I feel about you.”

As her arm lowered, he grabbed her hand, enclosing it in both of his. “What will you say?”

Lois smiled softly. “I might borrow some lines from you. How about something like …’I have been in love with you for a long time. You must have known.’”

Something had syphoned every last ounce of oxygen from his apartment. “What happens then?” Clark said in a breathy whisper.

“That will be up to you.”

“Lois …”

She stood. He followed her to his feet. Time slowed as she slid her arms around his neck and hugged him. His arms closed around her back, and he clung to her.

Very slowly, his tension seeped away, dissolving in the strength of her acceptance. The power of her love.

He would have been content to hold her for hours in silent celebration of the most wonderful friendship of his life. Too soon, she slipped from his embrace. “Come on,” she said, yawning as she spoke. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

They sat on his couch and took their plates on their knees.

“Perry’s hoping for a follow-up story on the subway,” Lois said. “Does Superman have anything else to add that he might be willing to tell his two favourite reporters?”

Clark smiled, touched by her attempt to smooth their transition from a triangle of two reporters and a superhero to a difficult-to-define duo with three identities. “I didn’t see any sign of sabotage,” he said.

“Any cracks or weaknesses in the wall?”

“From what I saw, I think the most likely scenario is that a few bits of the tunnel fell onto the track. That was enough to derail the train. It crashed into the wall, bringing down a large section that was possibly already weakened.”

Lois chewed thoughtfully. “So it was just an accident?”

“I think so. I’m sure there will be questions about maintenance, but after all the angst and finger-pointing, I think they’ll realise it was just an unfortunate series of events.”

“We could write a story — use some Superman quotes — and try to shut down the worst of the speculation before it takes hold. If someone was negligent, that needs to be investigated. But if it were simply a terrible accident, all the conjecture isn’t going to help the grieving families.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Clark said. “If Superman says he didn’t see anything other than a tragic accident, people might be willing to accept that.” He didn’t add that Superman still had credibility because Lois Lane had managed to extricate him from an obstruction of justice charge.

She gave him a smile, and his thoughts slipped back to his question about whether everything was going to change. This had changed — they could talk openly as reporting partners without the spectre of his secret coming between them.

“Are you going to write a follow-up story on Lana as well?” he asked.

Lois nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to include your part in getting the evidence that led to her arrest?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think it’s relevant,” Lois said. “And I don’t think the other papers will run it either. Wolfe won’t want to reveal how close he came to charging the wrong person. Mrs McCreadie has already said she doesn’t want to speak to the papers. I think it’s best if we just let it drop.”

“You don’t feel …” Clark wasn’t sure how to word the rest of his question.

“… animosity for Lana?” Lois finished for him. “No,” she said. “I did for a while — from what I knew, she didn’t seem to care at all about your life or how she affected it. But when I came here dressed as a tramp, it wasn’t about hurting her, it was about helping you.”

His gratitude for what she had done for him rose again, tightening his throat. “Lois …”

She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth as she waited for him to continue.

He wanted to say so much, but words were hurtling around his mind at such speed, he couldn’t grasp any of them.

She lowered her fork back to the plate. “I think there’s a lot more to Lana’s story than just a self-centred woman who lost control when she couldn’t get what she wanted.”

“You do?” Clark asked, not knowing if he were relieved or disappointed that the moment had slipped away empty.

“She said she’d been raped by a cop in Rome. She said that when she tried to report it, the other officers refused to act on her report.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yes,” Lois said after a moment’s consideration. “Yes, I think I do.”

“Poor Lana,” Clark muttered. “Dad and Mom said she had been acting erratically since she returned home from Europe.”

“Maybe she felt trapped. And abused. And angry.”

“I hope the baby is going to be all right.”

“Did she say whether she wants to keep the baby?” Lois asked. “Do you think she’d give it up for adoption?”

“She said she wanted to give it a proper family.”

The conversation halted. Clark figured Lois was thinking what he was thinking — that a prison was a long way from a ‘proper family’.

“Your parents said her family would be supportive,” Lois said.

Suddenly, Clark experienced a flash of inspiration.

“What?” Lois said. She was smiling at him, which made his idea all the sweeter.

“Ray and Millie — Lana’s parents — had three girls. Some summers, he’d pay me to go and help on his farm, and more than once, he said he loved his daughters, but he’d always dreamed of having a son to help him with the farm.”

“Did Lana mention if the baby is a boy or a girl?”

“No,” Clark said. “Ah … I looked.”

Lois’s little spurt of shock quickly changed to a smile. “It’s a boy?”

“Yes.”

“So you think Lana’s parents might be willing to look after him?”

“I think so. Particularly if they can get a lawyer who can bring out the trauma of having been raped and get her a reduced sentence.”

Lois took another mouthful of food. Clark knew what she was thinking — that Lana was going to face a murder charge and there was very little chance of leniency. “Lana’s parents sound like good people,” she said.

“They are. They’ve been our neighbours for years. Having a grandson won’t make up for losing their daughter …”

“… but at least the little boy will be well looked after.”

Clark put his empty plate on the table and sat back in the couch. He couldn’t remember tasting even a single mouthful of the food, but he felt better.

Perhaps it had been the food.

No — he didn’t believe that. He felt better because Lois was with him.

She knew everything about him.

And she still chose to be with him.

She also finished her meal and put her plate on the coffee table. “Lana said she tried to blackmail you into marrying her. She said she threatened to tell –”

“Is that how you knew about me?” Clark asked, suddenly alarmed. “Did she tell anyone else?”

Lois’s response was a placid smile. “You thought she knew about –”

“Did she?” Clark asked anxiously. “Is it on the tape? Did she tell Wolfe and Henderson?”

“Oh, she spilled your secret all right,” Lois said, still smiling. “And it’s on the tape.”

“Lois –” He’d meant her name to gush out, driven by the apprehension he should be feeling at the possibility of his secret becoming common knowledge. But Lois was smiling. Which meant she wasn’t worried. Which meant she had probably already dealt with this situation — just as she had dealt with him being accused of murder. “What did you do?” he asked, knowing he was very close to smiling.

“She didn’t actually tell you the secret she knew?”

“Not in exact words. But she said we had known each other for a long time. She said we knew things about each other that no one else knew.”

“So you assumed she was referring to your penchant for tights?”

Lois’s teasing tone drove away more of the heaviness clustered in the corners of his soul. Everything hadn’t changed. So much that he loved had survived the storm. “My mother made the Suit,” he said, trying to sound stern. “You should show some respect.”

“Oh, I’m very respectful,” she said, looking anything but.

“What did Lana tell you about me?”

“She made some allegations about your lack of manliness because you were never intimate with her.”

“That was her secret?”

Lois nodded, her grin still playing around her mouth. But Clark’s relief was tainted with horror. It was better than Lana announcing he was Superman, but still …

“Don’t look so worried,” Lois said.

“I … She said that, and it’s on the tape?”

Lois nodded. She didn’t look perturbed at all. “Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“I’m not,” he hurried to declare. But …

Lois moved along the couch, shuffling within easy touching distance, although her hands stayed in her lap. “Clark, I’m not sure what you were thinking when you said nothing could kill your love for me, but I was thinking that — at the right time — that sort of love would involve intimacy.”

Clark could only gulp and nod.

“So when people see us together — obviously happy — no one is going to give a second thought to what Lana said.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I believe that you didn’t sleep with her,” Lois said. “And I think I know why.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t want to get that close to someone who didn’t know everything about you.”

It was true, but Clark was more interested in what conclusions she might have drawn from that comprehension. “You know everything about me,” he said.

“Uhmm,” she said, her mouth tight, but her eyes giving away that she was enjoying his discomfort — just a little bit.

He had to tell her everything. “I haven’t … haven’t … gone the whole way,” he said, feeling his face and neck flame to deep red.

“I figured that.”

“You –” His exclamation crashed to a dead stop. “Does that change anything?”

“Yeah.”

“What?” He squeezed the question out from a tight throat.

“It makes it awkward for me to suggest what I had planned to suggest.” Before Clark could form any sort of response, Lois stood and began collecting up their plates. “I’m exhausted,” she said. She took the things to his kitchen counter. “I need to sleep. You might not be physically tired, but I’m sure you could use some rest.”

All Clark could do was nod as he straggled behind her.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone, and anyway, I’m sure I’d fall asleep in the cab before it reached my apartment.”

“You …” Clark tried to look casual. “You want me to take you home?”

“No.”

“You want to stay here?”

Lois nodded as she gathered up the leftover food from the coffee table. “I promised Perry some stories later, but I can’t write anything until I’ve had some sleep.”

“You can have my bed.”

She deposited the boxes in his fridge. “Only if you come, too.” Clark clamped down on a squeak of shock. “Just to sleep,” she said, hurrying on. “I can borrow some of your pyjamas. It would be fine. I’m too tired for anything else. And you must be exhausted –”

“I can have the couch.”

“No. If you’re on the couch, you’ll only be a few yards from where Mayson was killed.” She stopped in front of him and extended her hand towards him. “I think you need to be with your friend.”

Clark took her hand. “But …”

“Even when we become more than friends, we will still be there for each other,” Lois said. “I’m not going to stop being your friend just because I have finally realised how much you mean to me.”

“Are you sure it will be all right?”

“I’m sure.” She covered a long yawn. “I really need to sleep.”

“I’ll get you something to wear,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hand from hers.

“Thanks.”

Five minutes later — unbelievably — Clark was in his bed with Lois by his side. He lay on his back, knowing there was no chance of him falling asleep. Not with her there.

She rose up onto her elbow and patted his shoulder. “Can I use this as my pillow?”

“Y…yes.”

“Clark,” she said. “I know this is weird, but all I’m trying to do is get some sleep without leaving you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“Do I look uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

He gave a hesitant smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just stop looking at me like I’m freaking you out.”

After everything she had done for him, he could do that for her. Clark squeezed her hand as it lay on his shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “Lie down.”

She snuggled into his side, put her head on the upper slope of his chest, and rested her arm across his stomach.

Clark closed his eyes. Immediately his mind filled with Lana and Lois. Lana, pointing a gun at Lois.

“It’s OK,” came Lois’s voice. “We’re going to be fine.”

Less than a minute later, her regular breaths told him she had fallen asleep. Clark tightened his arm around her.

She had been right. This was perfect. He needed her. He needed her to keep his imagination in check. He needed her presence to buoy his hope that everything was going to be all right.

Better than all right.

Lois hadn’t actually said that she loved him, but she’d promised that when the time was right, she would tell him that she had been in love with him for a long time.

Pure joy wrapped around his heart.

Lois loved him.

Lois believed in him.

Lois knew everything about him.

Clark rolled his head a few inches and dropped a kiss into her hair.

“I love you, Lois,” he whispered. “Thank you for saving me.”

Epilogue

Clark Kent stood in the drizzling rain as the casket containing Mayson Drake’s body was lowered to its resting place.

He had dreaded coming, but he had been unable to stay away. He’d feared his presence would add to her family’s pain, but he’d felt compelled to give them a chance to ask questions of him. Or vent their anger for his part in the tragedy of Mayson’s death. Or ignore him as being irrelevant to her life.

Other than having received the standard greeting as he’d entered the church, no one had spoken to him or acknowledged his presence.

The casket stopped, the priest said the final blessing, a few flowers were thrown in final farewell, and the gathering of mourners began to disperse.

Clark turned away, and enveloped in a cloud of detachment from which there seemed no escape.

***

Lois checked the clock for about the hundredth time. She was in her apartment, but her thoughts were with Clark at Mayson’s funeral.

There were smatterings of relief mixed in with her concern. The day had finally come. Perhaps after today, Clark would be able to move on.

Perhaps they would be able to move on.

A week has passed since they had slept in his bed, blanketed in the newness of shared knowledge — Clark was Superman and Lois loved Clark.

She had woken up alone. She had wandered from the bedroom and found him staring out of the window.

He had turned to her and given her a nebulous smile that hadn’t had the strength or conviction to penetrate the haunted shadows lurking in his eyes.

Now, Lois regretted that she hadn’t walked right up to him, taken him into her arms, and held him in resolute testament to the progress they had made.

But, determined to honour her promise not to pressure him, she had met Clark’s smile with one just as full of uncertainty and agreed without question when he’d suggested they go to the police station and follow up the story of Lana’s arrest.

They had both slipped back from the edge — back to the ease and familiarity of being friends and partners.

Of course, one thing was new. Now they were also fellow-conspirators in the world’s biggest secret.

Although, Clark had avoided being with her as Superman.

Did he resent her uninvited presence in the exclusive group who knew that Superman had an everyday life as Clark Kent? Did he harbour even the slightest of fears that she would reveal what she knew? Or, more likely, did he worry that her knowing would somehow threaten her safety?

Lois could only speculate. They hadn’t talked. Not about anything that really mattered.

Henderson had come to the Daily Planet the day after Lana had been formally charged, seeking answers for why Clark had been so uncooperative.

Lois had blathered on, citing his concern for Lana. His concern for Superman’s reputation. His concern for his partner’s safety.

In the end, she’d probably confused Henderson more than she had convinced him, but Lois thought she had probably done enough that the busy cop wouldn’t give too much more thought to where Clark had been during the long hours of the night.

Clark had tried to help Ray and Millie Lang when they’d arrived in Metropolis.

Superman had visited at least a dozen people injured in the subway collapse, bringing a little excitement to their hospital-bound lives.

But as Lois and Clark had played out the charade of status quo, she had watched him carefully and one thing had become patently obvious. Although Superman was invulnerable in body, Clark Kent was very definitely not invulnerable in heart.

It hurt him deeply that people had believed he could have shot Mayson.

Being questioned by the police had shaken him.

Being unable to answer truthfully had eroded his confidence that he could be both Superman and Clark Kent.

And he was trapped in his guilt at having been the person who had brought Lana and Mayson together.

Lois had hated the thought of Clark going to the funeral alone. She’d known how difficult it would be for him.

But they’d both known she couldn’t go. Not to the funeral of the woman whose unrequited love for Clark had indirectly led to her death.

So Clark had gone, and Lois had stayed.

She looked at the clock again and sighed. It had advanced a only few minutes.

***

“Mr Kent?”

He turned. His heart plummeted. The woman who had said his name was young. Blonde. Pretty. And enough like Mayson to snatch his breath away. “Ms Drake,” he said. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for coming. We appreciate the gesture.”

Clark began to breathe more easily. “I will always regret my actions in the final few days of Mayson’s life,” he said.

“She was in love with you.”

The woman’s calm statement whipped across his heart. Clark had no reply.

“I know you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I …” He’d had many opportunities to state his true feelings for Mayson. Now was not the time.

“Mayson was never a person to take a hint,” her sister said with a sad smile. “You had to be blunt or she just continued on, happily believing that everyone was in the place she had designated for them.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Clark said, knowing how inadequate it sounded against the backdrop of her death.

“I’m guessing ‘blunt’ isn’t your strong point.”

Clark shook his head. “I wish … I wish I had –”

Ms Drake gripped his arm. “Mayson valued life,” she said. “That’s why she wanted to be a DA — to get justice for those who had been hurt. She wouldn’t want us to waste our lives with regrets.”

Clark nodded tightly. Perry had told him that. His mom had said it, too. And he was pretty sure Lois had spent most of the past week thinking it.

“I’m very glad you were never charged with her murder,” Mayson’s sister said. “I knew you couldn’t have done it.”

“You did?”

“Mayson’s job brought her into contact with the worst of people — murderers and rapists and people who abuse children. She could never have fallen in love with a man who could kill.”

Clark could only murmur his appreciation for her insight.

Mayson’s sister released her grip on his arm and patted him a couple of times. “Don’t linger here, Mr Kent. Mayson has moved on. You should, too.” She turned away from him and walked back to the sanctuary of her family.

Clark waited while all of the cars drove away, leaving him alone.

He turned around and faced the hole in the ground. “Goodbye, Mayson,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

***

It was nearly two hours after the scheduled starting time for Mayson’s funeral, and Lois was beginning to worry.

Has something happened?

Had someone recognised Clark? Had something been said that had caused him to sink further into the mire of self-recrimination?

Lois stood from her sofa with purpose. It was time to act.

Whatever had happened, Clark needed her. As his friend. And as the woman who loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

She quickly tidied the few stray objects lying around her apartment and then set her table with a lacy cloth, candles, her plates with the hand-painted roses, her best silver, and two wine glasses.

Then, she went to search her wardrobe for her most romantic, most alluring outfit.

She loved Clark. He had said nothing could kill his love for her. Nothing. Not even an accusation of murder.

It was time to celebrate that love.

***

Pannikin was almost back to her normal self — prowling around the apartment in futile pursuit of non-existent vermin.

Mrs McCreadie sat in her chair near the window, drinking her late afternoon cup of tea and dividing her attention between her cat and her neighbourhood.

As she watched, Mr Kent, carrying a bunch of mixed flowers and dressed in a black suit and a smart charcoal overcoat, walked under her window and let himself into his apartment.

Mrs McCreadie smiled. She hadn’t seen that nice reporter, Lois Lane, since the day the murderer had been arrested. Flowers were definitely a good sign. Mrs McCreadie eagerly stood from her chair and peered out of the window.

She waited for ten minutes, finishing her tea while she scanned the extremities of her visibility, but Lois Lane did not appear and Clark did not leave his apartment.

Disappointed, Mrs McCreadie returned her cup to the kitchen. Pannikin relented from her one-cat crusade against the rodent world and came over, looking for some affection.

Her purr-engine had just started when a knock sounded.

After a final glide over Pannikin’s sleek flank, Mrs McCreadie went to the door and opened it. “Oh. Mr Kent. Clark.”

He smiled. He pushed forward the bunch of flowers he was holding.

“They’re for me?” Mrs McCreadie asked, feeling swamped by an odd mix of disbelief, delight, and dismay.

“They’re to thank you for what you did for Lois,” he explained. “I’m so incredibly grateful that you went to help her.”

“Oh.” With hands that trembled slightly, Mrs McCreadie reached out and took the bouquet. “Th…thank you, Mr Kent. I don’t remember …” She’d been going to say she didn’t remember the last time a handsome young man had given her flowers, but she chopped off her words. “That’s very kind.”

Clark slipped his other hand from his overcoat pocket and offered her a tin. “This is for Pannikin,” he said. “The label says it’s ‘gourmet fish’.” His smile was endearingly self-conscious — if Mrs McCreadie had been twenty-five years younger, she probably would have invited him in and locked the door. If she’d been fifteen years younger, she might have considered it.

Instead, she took the tin and gave him another smile of thanks. “I read in the paper that Lana Lang was charged.”

“Yeah.”

“And Ms Drake was buried today.”

The spasm of pain that crossed his face made Mrs McCreadie wish she hadn’t mentioned the funeral, but it was too late now.

“Did you go?” she inquired gently.

He nodded.

“Did Ms Lane go?”

“No. We decided … We thought it might not be appropriate.”

“I haven’t seen her for a few days.”

“No. We … we’ve been busy. The subway collapse … There’s always a story to write.”

Mrs McCreadie thrust the flowers towards him. “Mr Kent,” she said firmly. “Clark. These are lovely, but, please … I’m not the person you should be giving flowers to.”

He appeared flustered for a moment, but he didn’t take back the flowers. “I will. It’s just …”

“Have you and Ms Lane had a fight?”

“No. No. Nothing like that. It’s just …”

“Hard to forget? Hard to accept something so wonderful when you can’t forget that one woman is dead and another is going to be in prison for a very long time?”

The young man nodded, his lovely brown eyes eloquent with confusion and regret.

Mrs McCreadie reached across the bouquet to rest a motherly hand on the sleeve of his jacket. “Go to Lois,” she said. “Go and talk you her. Tell her everything.”

“Tell her that I feel guilty because I couldn’t be what Lana needed? Guilty because I couldn’t be what Mayson needed? Guilty because I’m drowning in so much guilt, I can’t be what she needs?”

“If that’s what you’re feeling, then, yes. Tell her that.”

“She deserves better than that. She … she risked her life, for me. Without you …” He cleared this throat and studied his shoes.

“Would you have done the same for her?”

His head shot up. “Yes. But that’s different.”

“She loves you.”

“What if I disappoint her?”

“Clark,” Mrs McCreadie said sternly. “I think there is a much greater chance you will disappoint yourself than you will disappoint her.”

His mouth opened but no sound emerged.

“Has she ever disappointed you?” Mrs McCreadie asked.

His nod was barely perceptible.

“Did you stop loving her?”

“No!”

Mrs McCreadie hid her smile at the vehemence of his reply. “What happened to Mayson Drake was a tragedy, but it wasn’t Lois’s fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” he exploded.

“Then stop making her pay for it.”

He stared at her, dumbstruck. Mrs McCreadie gathered the flowers closer to her face and inhaled deeply. “These are lovely,” she said. “But on second thoughts, I think I should keep them. Go and buy another bouquet — I suggest red roses — and take them to Lois.”

His smile simmered for a moment before gaining more strength. “I hope Pannikin enjoys the fish.”

Mrs McCreadie chuckled. “I expect to see Lois as a regular visitor to your apartment from now on.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Go and get out of those black clothes and put on something cheery,” Mrs McCreadie instructed. “Perhaps navy pants, a white shirt, that nice beige jacket of yours, and the vibrant blue tie with the beautiful red rose.”

“You think so?” he asked dubiously.

“Yes.” She shooed him away with the bouquet. “Get out of here. You have more important things to do than chat with an old woman.”

He put a light hand on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “Thank you for everything you did for us. I won’t ever forget.”

Feeling a sudden spurt of tears into eyes that hadn’t cried since the day she had buried her husband, Mrs McCreadie nodded abruptly, stepped back, and shut the door.

She buried her nose into the flowers, allowing their sweet aroma to infuse calm through her dishevelled emotions. Then she straightened and bustled into the kitchen. “Pannikin!” she called. “Come and see what that nice Mr Kent has brought for you.”

***

Lois slowly replaced her phone. She’d dialled Clark’s home number, but he hadn’t answered. She had refrained from calling his cell phone, just in case he was still at the funeral.

She checked the mirror again and despite her worries, she couldn’t stop the little rush of satisfaction.

She looked great. Feminine. Sexy.

She had achieved exactly the message she wanted.

A woman did not dress like this for a friend.

A woman dressed like this for one man. One very special man.

A knock sounded, and her heart leapt.

Lois hurried over to her door. She stretched to look through the peek hole and saw a red rose. Behind it, there was a splash of blue and red tie and a white shirt outlined with the lapels of a beige jacket.

It was Clark.

With trembling fingers, Lois released all three locks and swung open the door.

They both froze, suspended on opposite edges of the chasm, within one step of leaving ‘just-friends’ behind forever.

Clark shyly extended the single — perfect — rose.

Lois reached forward and accepted his gift.

She examined its flawlessly formed petals and inhaled it beautiful scent.

“I didn’t buy a bunch,” Clark said. She looked from the flower and into his face. “I … I only have one heart, and …”

Lois waited.

“… it’s yours.”

Lois felt her tears rise — tears of empathy for all he had endured, tears of celebration for his strength, tears of hope that they had finally reached the place where they were both ready to move forward.

“I’m sorry for …” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about …”

Lois swallowed, easing the tension in her throat and making speech possible. “This last week?”

Clark nodded. “I couldn’t get past –”

“It’s OK,” Lois said. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” he breathed. His hand lifted in brief salute towards her dress. “You’re beautiful.” His eyes meandered from her feet to her face. “You look stunning. Were you expecting company?”

“Yes. You.”

His responding smile was pure Clark, unfettered by doubts.

Lois felt drawn to stare at him — to savour the knowledge that Clark had returned to her — but she didn’t want their open communication to become bogged in silence. “Thank you for the rose,” she said.

Clark’s expression became more serious as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I’m hoping it will say the things I have been so slow to say. That I need you. That you’re my best friend. That I want to be with you every day of my life.” A smile touched his lips. “That I have been in love with you for a very long time.”

“I thought we had agreed that that was to be my line this time.”

His smile billowed to full strength, mushing her muscles. “You can say it anytime you want to. I’m ready to hear it now.”

Because this felt exactly like being with Clark, Lois couldn’t resist teasing him. “Say what?” she inquired with a little quirk of one eyebrow.

“You said you had been in love with me for a long time.”

“I did. I was. I am. I always will be.”

Clark gripped her elbow as his earnestness swept away their banter. “Lois,” he said. “Thank you for helping me when I was in trouble. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for accepting everything about me. And although I can’t even think about Lana pointing a gun at you without feeling sick, thank you for risking your life to save me.”

Lois plunged directly into those deep brown eyes. “I didn’t believe for one second that you had done what the evidence said you had done.”

“Before you came to get me from the police station, that was what terrified me the most. It wasn’t being charged with murder, it wasn’t facing a court and trying to defend myself when I couldn’t be totally honest, it wasn’t even the world finding out that I’m an alien. It was that my best friend and the woman I love might believe that I could kill.”

“That is never going to happen,” she vowed. “Never.”

He stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing, but conveying much. Then, with a touch of awkwardness, he said, “Do you mind if I come in?”

With a smile of welcome, Lois stepped back. Clark entered her apartment, turning to shut the door behind him.

When he faced her again, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and captured her gaze. “I love you, Lois,” he said. “I have loved you since the moment I met you in Perry’s office. I will always love you.”

Lois shaped her palm to his jaw and caressed his cheek with her thumb. “I love you, Clark,” she said. “It took me a long time to realise, but now I know I will always love you, too.”

He sighed with quiet contentment, causing bubbles of elation to cavort across Lois’s heart. Elation and anticipation. Surely, now was the perfect time for him to seal their declarations of love with a kiss.

He took the rose from her hand and carefully laid it on the table between the candles. “Did you order in?” he asked with a grin. “Or did you cook?”

“Neither,” she replied, trying to smother her disappointment.

“Neither?”

“I thought Superman could take me to any restaurant in the world and we could bring our food back here for an intimate meal for two.”

“Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes,” she said gravely, knowing his question and her answer referred to more than just the details of food.

There was a blur of evolving colour, and then Superman stood before her.

Lois felt her mouth drop. “Wow!” she breathed.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked casually.

But suddenly, Lois didn’t want to go. Not now. She wanted to be alone with Clark for just a little longer. “You tripped up, you know?” she said.

Superman didn’t look unduly worried by her assertion. “I did?”

“I told Superman that my mom was in rehab. I never told Clark. But Clark said she was in the best place where they could help her.”

Clark’s mouth fell open. “You were testing me?” he said. “That’s why you suddenly wanted to talk about your week away?”

She nodded. “And you failed the test, giving me proof of my hypothesis.”

Superman grimaced a little. “I’m sorry, Lois. It must have felt as if I didn’t want to share that part of my life with you.”

“I figure the habit of protecting the secret is pretty engrained by now.”

“Yeah. I just felt … uncomfortable. I’d wanted you to know for so long, but I was scared it would change us — change our friendship.”

“Change isn’t always bad,” she reminded him.

“Is it going to matter? Can we still be ... us?”

“Are you asking if I can love a man who is two people?”

“I’m asking if you can love me, Clark Kent. That’s all I want.”

“Yes,” she declared. “I love you, Clark.” She grinned. “And I can love Superman, too.”

His smile was full. Lois waited. Waited for him to ease a little closer. Waited for him to take them to the next step.

He didn’t move. Her overtaxed supply of patience withered to nothing.

“Suddenly, I’m not so hungry,” she said. “We can fly later.”

“OK,” he said warily.

Lois twirled her hand in a circular motion. Superman spun, and a second later, Clark stood before her. She stepped up to him and rested her fingers on the knot of his navy blue tie. “Do I have to start undressing you to kiss you again?”

His shock lasted only a few moments before being dissolved by a wide grin. “No,” he said. “But please don’t let that stop you.”

“Clark!”

He just kept on grinning at her, looking happy and carefree and ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough for you to kiss me?” Lois demanded.

“You waited?” he exclaimed. “I waited so much longer than –”

She put her finger over his mouth, hushing him. Her hand slowly dropped away. His arms surrounded her. His hand cupped her neck. His lips met hers. Hesitant introduction flourished into comprehensive exploration as his mouth imprinted hers with wave after wave of his love.

Lois was swept into the whirlwind of Clark’s kiss. She met him eagerly, holding nothing back. She tasted him, becoming familiar in a new and exhilarating way with the mouth whose smile had brightened her world so many times.

When they eased apart, breathless and a little overawed, it was done. They had moved beyond friendship and into the dawn of something new. Something beautiful. Something strong. Something everlasting.

They were in love.

THE END

Ants at a Picnic

By Morgana <cynthia.mccoy533@gmail.com>

Rated: G

Submitted August 2012

Summary: What happens when you mix Lois Lane and Clark Kent with Lex Luthor at the Daily Planet’s annual picnic charity event? Read on!

This is my answer to the summer fic challenge. I do not own the characters because they are the property of DC comics, December Third Productions and any other entity who lays legal claim. I’m just having a little non-profit fun.

Thanks to HappyGirl, KenJ, and Anti-Kryptonite for helping with the grammar and beta work. You guys ROCK!

***

“Really, my dear, come, join me in the shade of my tent and have a chilled mimosa. It is so much more comfortable and refreshing than lying on a coarse blanket drinking lukewarm lemonade,” Lex Luthor said, smiling down at her. As usual, he looked very suave yet casual. The bright white designer polo shirt and hand-sewn knife-pleat khaki pants he wore probably cost more than she made in a week. For the past hour or so, he had moved around among the various corporate movers and shakers, pressing flesh and discussing any number of projects or deals. Still, it was intriguing to observe him and other members of Metropolis’ society mingling with the ‘common herd.’

Lois took in the sights of Centennial Park. It was early summer and this Saturday was the Daily Planet’s Founder’s Day celebration. As per tradition, the paper sponsored a huge charity picnic to raise money for journalism scholarships. The occasion, although no one else knew it, held a special place in her heart. After all, if it weren’t for this event, there might not have been enough money for her to attend New Troy University.

Surrounding them were Daily Planet employees and their excited families sitting and eating on blankets and at wooden tables and benches. Several people, not content to sit down and enjoy the crisp but lazy day, were playing softball or participating in carnival games. A few intrepid souls had rented paddle boats to go around the lake. The tantalizing smells of hamburgers and hotdogs sizzling on the grill reached her nose. But once Lex arrived, Lois remained rooted to the blanket, unlike her friend and co-worker, Diane Pallister, who had wandered off to get a hotdog.

Earlier that morning she had gotten up quickly, completed her daily ablutions, and dressed in a light green cotton short-sleeved blouse and white walking shorts. Since it was going to be a picnic and probably all the tables and benches would be taken, she had decided it was best to bring her own supplies and creature comforts. So she had pulled out a backpack and filled it with ‘picnic’ items: blanket, icepack, thermos of lemonade, and a trashy romance novel. She had meant to pick up a can of bug repellent, but completely forgot about it once she entered the park.

The pleasant weather had made the day even better than she had expected so far. She had arrived in time to help set up the first aid tent and light a few grills. Once that was done she’d laid her blanket out under a large sheltering oak tree. Several co-workers had come over to chat with her briefly. Even Cat had stopped by with her latest date; a bored looking blonde Adonis whose name escaped Lois’ memory as soon as they left. Shortly afterwards, Diane sat down and the two young women exchanged friendly ‘water cooler talk’. They had even discussed Superman and wondered just what such a man did when he was not patrolling the city in blue spandex. She had wondered where Clark could be, but was told by Perry he was put in charge of the hot dog grill. She was pleased her ‘do-gooder’ partner was properly occupied; she was immensely satisfied to sit and relax indulge in reading her guilty pleasure…until Lex showed up.

Lois glanced casually up at the older man. She always found him to be immensely attractive, witty and charming. Since meeting him at the White Orchid Ball they had enjoyed a mild, innocent flirtation. But there was something about Lex Luthor that nagged at the back of her mind. Something was not quite right about the man. Her occasional work partner, Clark Kent, never missed an opportunity to warn her against him. While Cat Grant and Lucy kept urging her to encourage Lex’s interest, she wasn’t entirely certain what her behavior towards him should be. Still, what could be the harm in merely talking with him? Maybe she could *finally* get him to open up about his past and nail down an interview.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s comfortable here under this tree.” A little embarrassed that he was seeing what she was reading, Lois put down her book, thinking Lex’s tastes were a little more cosmopolitan. He probably considered Voltaire ‘light’ reading. She slid over and patted the blanket. “C’mon, have a seat.”

His expression clearly said he wasn’t happy to sit on the rough old blue blanket, but he acceded to Lois’ request and kneeling down to the ground, made himself as comfortable as possible on the old blanket.

“There!” Lois smiled, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “Isn’t this better than sitting under a tent away from the sunshine? After all, this *is* a picnic. You know, a relaxed time for family and friends?”

“If you say so, my dear.” Lex grew quiet, even pensive, and then he spoke. “Speaking of friendships, I believe it is time for us to take ours a step further,” the billionaire said as he tenderly took her hand.

“Really? What… what do you mean?” Lois responded, clearly baffled.

“I think perhaps we should see each other on a regular – more exclusive — basis. My dear, you have such fire, such drive, the uncanny ability to transcend the mundane. You possess the *raw* potential to become so much more than a mere newspaper reporter. To ignore such talent would be a terrible pity.”

“B…being a reporter is what I do. Besides, we barely know each other.”

“Given time we can grow to ‘know’ each other. Say you’ll consider the matter very carefully. I find a woman like you very attractive.”

Loud klaxon alarms went off in her mind, along with a dance of icy fingers fiercely pirouetting up and down her spine. There was something decidedly wrong with that particular turn of phrase.

The atmosphere between them was charged, not with a sense of physical attraction or even mental stimulation. The older man’s dark eyes riveted her with the mesmerizing intensity of a striking cobra. Lois felt as if she was being measured and considered not as a cherished friend or even as a deeply desired lover — but as a possession. One to be pursued, acquired, displayed before a breathless audience and then unceremoniously discarded. Did Lex Luthor want to add her to his lists of conquests?

“Hey, Lois, there you are!” A familiar voice called out.

She released the breath she did not realize she was holding, and turned to the owner of the voice.

“Clark!” she cried with more excitement than she meant, quickly releasing Lex’s hand and waving him over. “I thought you were manning the hot dog stand?”

“Yeah, but Diane told me you were sitting here, so I asked Eduardo to take over for me. Hey, can you be my partner in the three-legged race?” He asked with that terrific, heartbreaking smile. The handsome young man wore comfortable faded blue jeans and a blue chambray shirt, which showed off his magnificent physique. In languid, easy movements he sat down on the blanket next to Lois, totally ignoring the blistering glares of anger from Lex.

“Mr. Kent.” There was an undercurrent of ice in Luthor’s voice. “Miss Lane and I were having a *private* conversation…”

Lois looked from one man to the other. Clark clearly had no intention of going anywhere and neither did Luthor. She was ready to try and break up the standoff when she felt the sensation of sharp biting stings on her toes. Staring downward, she was greeted by the horrifying sight of dozens of large reddish-brown ants crawling over her bare feet.

“Fire ants!” she shrieked.

Lex immediately jumped up and stood back from the blanket. “Kent! Quick! Pick her up and take her to my tent! Asabi can wash her feet with ice until the stinging wears off!”

Clark quickly but gently scooped up this sweet welcomed burden, but he turned to the other man and said forcefully, “No way, Luthor! Jimmy! Get me a bucket of ice!” With those words, he ran with almost unnatural swiftness towards the first aid tent, leaving his stunned rival behind.

Swiftly Lex regained his composure and walked towards his tent. “Mr. Kent, we shall meet again, without a phalanx of ants to offer an interruption.”

***

Under the shade and comfort of the first aid tent, Lois lay on a cot while an excited Bernie Klein stood by and explained what happened. “You are the *fifth* victim today! Next year, the Daily Planet must move the festivities to a place without a water source nearby. This attack from these pesky ants shouldn’t be a surprise. They usually nest in the soil, often near moist areas, such as river banks, pond shores, watered lawns and highway shoulders. Usually, the nests aren’t visible. Especially to someone who isn’t aware to look for them. They build under objects such as timber, logs, rocks, or bricks. Good thing you aren’t sensitive, Lois. Otherwise we would have to take you to the emergency room. This antiseptic cream should do the trick.”

He bent to apply the cream, but Clark gently removed the tube from his hands. “Thanks for volunteering today, Dr. Klein, but I can take it from here.”

“What? But Mr. Kent… Oh, you are probably right, there are a few other injuries I need to look in on. It’s not often I get to work on real people…”

“It’s okay, Bernie,” Lois said, patting the gentle scientist’s arm. “I trust Clark will do a great job.”

“Oh, okay -if you insist.” He moved off to help with another fire ant victim.

“Oh, Clark, thanks for helping me today,” she said, her brown eyes gleaming gratitude.

He smiled, nervously adjusted his glasses, and said, “No problem, Lois. I couldn’t let those ants have a picnic on your feet!”

She swatted him playfully. “No, I wasn’t referring to the ants at the picnic. I was referring to the snake in the grass!”

THE END

Revelations at the Lake

By Dandello <momkat@dandello.net>

Rated: PG

Submitted: December, 2011

Summary: Christmas Eve at the Lane family lake cabin reveals more than one strange thing.

Copyright: December 8, 2008

All recognizable characters copyright Warner Bros. and DC Comics.

For Lieta:

***

Lois growled at the car radio. There were hundreds — or at least lots — of radio stations in Metropolis and the only one not playing wall to wall Christmas music was the all news station. Of course, it was well known around the Daily Planet that Lois Lane didn’t appreciate the holidays as much as some of her co-workers did.

“I take it you don’t like Christmas music, either?” Clark asked.

“Not when they’ve been at it for a month,” Lois complained.

But despite her feelings on the subject, Lois and Clark were heading to her father’s lake cabin to spend Christmas Eve with him, Lucy, and Lucy’s new starving artist boyfriend. Lois was supposed to bring a boyfriend as well, but since she didn’t actually have one of those and since this was going to be Clark’s first Christmas ever that he wasn’t spending with his parents, she had invited him to go with her.

Lois was getting ready to simply turn off the radio when a series of chirps came from the radio. Clark’s eyes widened.

R2-D2 we wish you a Merry Christmas

R2-D2 we love you it’s true

R2-D2 we wish you a Merry Christmas – Merry Christmas

We hope our little message gets to you *

“I love this song,” he announced.

She took her hand from the off button and gave him a wide eyed look of horror. “You’re kidding.”

He grinned at her and started singing along.

We look up at the winter star, we know that’s where you are

Our chimney’s big and round so you can come right down

And if our wish comes true we’ll spend Christmas Eve with you

Our hearts will sing with glee as we decorate the Christmas Tree

R2-D2 we wish you a Merry Christmas

R2-D2 we love you it’s true

R2-D2 we wish you a Merry Christmas — Merry Christmas

We hope our little message gets to you *

Luckily Clark’s voice wasn’t as bad as he seemed to think. But R2-D2? Omygod.

She turned off the radio. It was just too horrible to contemplate.

“No more Christmas music?” Clark asked. He sounded disappointed.

“I’m sure Dad will want us to sing carols around the spinet,” Lois groused. “But don’t you dare suggest the R2-D2 Christmas song.”

“How about the Chipmunk Song?”

“Don’t tell me you know all the words to the Chipmunk Song, too,” she said.

“Of course, don’t you?”

Lois was saved from answering as she turned up the gravel driveway to the cabin. All the lights were on, brightening the snow-covered ground in front of the cabin. Lucy and her current beau were putting the final touches on a snowman.

Lois pulled her Jeep in beside Lucy’s car. Lucy ran over and gave her a hug as she climbed out of the car.

Clark went to the back of the car to get the presents Lois had in rear of the Jeep.

“No suitcases?” Lucy asked.

“Clark has to work tomorrow,” Lois explained.

“Oh, I wish I’d thought of that excuse,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes.

Lois sighed as she followed Clark into the cabin. This is going to be so bad.

She was astonished to see the inside of the cabin – a Christmas tree was set in the corner, fully decorated, including items she recognized from her childhood and thought were lost. A fire roared in the stone fireplace and there were actual red knit stockings hanging from the mantle.

The big table was laid out with a veritable smorgasbord.

“Hello Princess,” her dad said as he caught sight of her. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before shaking Clark’s hand. “Glad you could come, Clark.”

“Glad you invited me,” Clark responded.

“I’ve got eggnog, hot cocoa, and hot buttered rum, if you want,” Sam said.

“Cocoa sounds good,” Lois admitted.

Within a few moments she was reveling in a steaming mug of cocoa, complete with miniature marshmallows. It was almost like the Christmases she remembered from when she was very young, before her mother fell into a liquor bottle and her dad abandoned them.

Clark was sipping his cocoa and studying the photos on the wall by the kitchen. Many were from Sam and Ellen’s college days. Clark frowned as he peered at one of the photos, the one of Sam and Ellen and two of their college friends.

“I’ve seen this picture before,” Clark commented. “That’s Thomas and Martha Wayne, isn’t it?”

“I went to medical school with Tommy Wayne,” Sam said. “Ellen and I double dated with him and Martha. I was best man at his wedding. Heck, Tommy practically gave me the property this cabin is on. He thought it might be fun if we were neighbors. They never did find their killer, you know.”

“Daddy, I didn’t know you knew the Waynes,” Lois said.

“Oh yes. Bruce still uses the cabin sometimes,” Sam said. “He asked about you just today.”

“Bruce Wayne, the fourth richest man in the world, asked about me?” Lois asked.

Sam grinned and shrugged. “Apparently he’s a big fan of yours.”

“Bruce Wayne is a fan?” Lois repeated. One of the most press-shy billionaires on the planet was a fan? “So, he’s spending Christmas Eve here, on the lake?”

Lois saw, but chose to ignore, the sudden dismay in Clark’s expression.

“Lois, you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?” he asked.

“If you’re thinking I’m thinking we should go next door and meet a fan, then yes, I’m thinking what you think I’m thinking.”

“Bruce Wayne does not give interviews,” Clark stated.

“Bruce Wayne has not met Lois Lane,” she retorted.

Clark rolled his eyes.

“You don’t believe me?” Lois challenged.

“I believe I’m going to regret this,” Clark replied. But he grabbed his coat and followed her anyway.

***

“Lois, this is a bad idea,” Clark hissed at his partner as she disappeared into the trees that marked the boundary between the Lanes and the Waynes. Under any other circumstances, Clark probably would have enjoyed walking with Lois along the lake front. The moon was just a sliver, but the stars were brilliant, and most of the houses and boats on the lake were decked out in Christmas finery.

“Lois,” he tried again. “Do you know what time it is? It’s Christmas Eve…”

“He’s a playboy,” Lois’s voice floated back to him. “He’s a night owl.”

“He’s a bat,” Clark muttered through gritted teeth.

“He’s a what?” Lois asked. At least she had stopped so he could catch up with her.

“He’ll go bats when he realizes what you’re up to,” Clark said, covering his slip.

“We’re just friendly neighbors coming to wish him a Merry Christmas.”

“Lo-is…”

She was moving ahead of him again, toward the front porch of the Wayne ‘cabin’.

Clark picked up a heartbeat close by.

“She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?” Bruce Wayne said quietly, coming out of the darkness of the trees.

“Tell me about it,” Clark groused. “She is so going to kill me when she realizes I know you.”

“You mean, you haven’t told her?”

“Not hardly.”

With that Bruce broke out in a loud laugh.

***

Lois was almost to the front porch when she heard the laugh. She turned to see Clark and another dark-haired man watching her, laughing. Bruce Wayne?

“Lois Lane, I presume?” Bruce said, still chortling. It looked like Clark was stifling a laugh as well.

“You know, the last time I saw you, I was six and you were about three,” Bruce continued, grinning broadly. “You and your baby sister were chasing me around the boat dock in your birthday suits.”

Lois felt a blush climbing up her cheeks. Clark’s shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“That was you?” she managed to squeak out, horrified.

He nodded.

“I’m not getting an interview out of you, am I?”

He chuckled. “I won’t give Clark one and I’ve known him for years, so I’m definitely not giving you one.”

“You’ve known Clark for…?” She turned her glare on Clark. “You know him?”

“We met while I was traveling,” Clark said sheepishly.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Her partner, the fink, hadn’t bothered to tell her he knew Bruce Wayne?

“Well, you haven’t told me everybody you know,” Clark pointed out.

“But that’s…”

Clark gave her one of his patented, wide-eyed, innocent, owl looks.

Lois reached down and grabbed a handful of snow, pressing it into a ball as she stood up. The ball splatted against Clark’s dark overcoat.

Within seconds, there was a full-blown snowball fight going on. Lois wasn’t sure if Clark and Bruce were working together, but they were both targets in her book. And they were both rats.

***

The fight ended when Alfred Pennyworth came to the door to see what the racket was. If he’d been surprised to see his employer in the middle of a snowball fight, he hid it well.

“Refreshments are ready,” the aging butler had announced, thus calling for the end of hostilities.

Lois was covered with snow and Clark helped brush her off, using short bursts of heat to warm her up.

“I haven’t been in a snowball fight since I can’t remember when,” Bruce said as he handed Clark a mug of hot buttered rum.

“So, where did you meet?” Lois asked, peering at them over her hot cider.

“I don’t give interviews,” Bruce warned.

Lois shrugged. “Let’s call it deep background.”

“We met in Bhutran,” Clark admitted. “At a monastery. Then we did some traveling together.”

“Fun times,” Bruce commented with a chuckle. “I actually miss those days.”

“What, gun runners hunting for us? Not knowing where we were going to get our next meal?” Clark asked.

“Like I said, fun times.”

Clark stared at him. “You’re nuts, you know that?”

“I’m not the one partnered with Mad Dog Lane,” Bruce countered. “So, when were you planning on telling her?”

“Telling her what?” Clark asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.

“About us and what you do in your free time?”

“Oh my God,” Lois said with a hitch in her voice. “I finally meet a decent guy, a couple of decent guys, and they turn out to be gay lovers…”

Epilogue:

“Lois, I swear to God that Bruce and I are not gay lovers,” Clark protested once again. They were driving back to Metropolis so Clark could get back to the Daily Planet for his Christmas shift.

“Well, not now,” Lois retorted. “Not with him living in Gotham and you in Metropolis. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“Lois, I am not gay!”

“Then what was he talking about?” she demanded. “What about you and him and what do you do in your spare time?”

“Lois, I repeat, I am not gay,” Clark stated. “However, I am Superman.”

“Sure you are, Clark,” Lois retorted. “And Bruce Wayne is the Batman?”

“Uh…”

“Nice try, Farm Boy. So, how long have Superman and Batman been lovers?”

THE END

*written by: Meco Monardo/Donald Oriolo

Three things I want in my fic:

1. WaFF

2. interesting revelation

3. some kind of prank or childish behavior (ie snowball fight)

Preferred season(s)/holiday [if applicable]:

Three things I do not want in my fic:

1. Luthor

2. Kryptonite

3. alternate interest (Cat, Mayson, Scardino, etc.)

The Red Bikini

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: July 2012

Summary: Summer is a time for sun, sand, and surf. But a bikini has the Man of Steel seeing red.

Disclaimer: I neither own, nor make, anything. All Lois and Clark characters, plot points, and lines of dialogue belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise.

Author’s Note: This story was inspired by the Summer 2012 ficathon challenge issued by MrsMosley on the Lois and Clark FanFic Message Boards. The idea was to take one prompt and turn it into a fanfic. My prompt was bikini.

***

“No. No, no, no. Not in a million years.”

Clark Kent paced the living room of his home. His hand raked through his hair. He pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the couch cushions. On the other couch Lois sat, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Now, Clark,” she started.

“No. No way.”

“It’s just a bathing suit,” Lois tried to reason with him.

“It’s barely big enough to be a handkerchief!” Clark said, shaking his head.

“Clark, it’s a perfectly acceptable…”

“Not in my house, it isn’t,” Clark said, cutting her off.

“But, Dad!” sputtered their daughter, Rebecca. “I’m sixteen years old!”

“Exactly my point!” Clark said, stilling his pacing. “You’re sixteen! There’s no need to rush off and dress like…like…”

“A woman?” Lois supplied.

“Yes,” Clark said, failing to come up with a more politically correct term than that. “Becca, you have to understand.”

“I hate you!” the young woman exploded, tears pooling in her deep brown eyes. “You’re ruining my life!”

“Becca, wait,” Clark pleaded.

“No. You know, you have some nerve,” Rebecca shot back. “You’re the one who dresses like a freak in a skin tight outfit! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is? Do you know the kinds of things the girls at my school say about Superman? And I have to act like it doesn’t bother me that they’re making all sorts of crude comments about my own father! So don’t you dare sit here and tell me that what I’m wearing is inappropriate!”

“Rebecca Lynn Kent! Don’t you dare speak to your father that way!” Lois warned, her voice hard and serious.

“You’re defending him?” Rebecca sputtered in disbelief. “I thought you were on my side! You’re both ruining my life!”

She uncrossed her arms, revealing more of the tiny red bikini she was wearing. With a burst of speed, she was gone, up the stairs, nothing more than a red and flesh colored streak. Clark heard the door to her bedroom slam shut, even without his super hearing. He sighed and shook his head.

“Kids,” he muttered.

“Clark, that was uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for? Lois, Becca’s only sixteen. And she’ll be around boys who are sixteen.”

“And your point is…?”

“I’ve been a sixteen year old boy, Lois. I know what sort of thoughts run through their heads.”

“Clark, it’s only going to be her friends there at Nick’s pool party.”

Clark shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Lois. I’ve been in the same position, around that age. Seeing my friends…my girl friends…in skimpy bathing suits. Why do you think I ever dated Lana? Her winning personality? No, I saw her in this tight little yellow bathing suit and…well…the rest is history.”

“So you think…what, exactly? That our daughter is going to wind up dating one of her friends, someone who isn’t good for her, because of how she’s dressed?”

Clark sighed. How to put this delicately?

“No,” he said, after a moment, his voice softening. “It’s just…like I said. I know how the minds of teenage boys work. They’ll be sexualizing Becca in their heads. I may be from Krypton, but even I had those passing thoughts when I was sixteen.”

Lois’ face hardened. “So you think she’ll do something stupid?”

“No,” Clark said, shaking his head and trying again. “We raised her to be smarter than that.”

“So, what’s the problem then?”

“It’s just…seeing her in that red bikini…it just reminds me of how grown up she’s getting.”

“Yes, she is,” Lois said quietly, softening towards Clark again. She took his hand in hers and he sat next to her on the couch.

“When did she get so mature?” Clark sighed. “Seems like only yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital.”

Lois sighed as well. “I know.”

“The boys are in college already. Pretty soon Rebecca will be out of the house as well. I don’t think I ever prepared myself for this.”

Lois smiled at him gently. “Me neither. But you know, there is an upside to this.”

“What’s that?”

“More alone time for the two of us,” she whispered seductively in his ear.

Clark moaned a little, his wife’s breath tickling his ear and sending an electric shock coursing through his entire body.

“You’ve got a point there,” he said, his eyes sliding shut as he moved to capture Lois’ lips in a kiss.

“Good,” Lois said, pulling reluctantly out of the kiss. “Now go apologize to your daughter.”

“Lo-is!”

Lois crossed her arms. “Clark.” Her voice was a soft warning.

“Can’t she wear something else?” Lois’ eyes narrowed. “Okay, okay. Fine. You win. But this doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it. And I’m still not thrilled about Becca’s attitude.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Lois said, nodding. “Together.”

“All right,” Clark said, nodding in turn. “We do make a pretty good team.”

Lois grinned. “Always have.”

“Always will,” Clark finished for her. “Come on. Let’s see if she’s cooled down any.”

Clark took Lois by the hand. Together, they made for the steps, towards their daughter’s room. They had always faced their toughest challenges together, side by side, but parenting was perhaps the hardest challenge of all.

THE END

The Pub

By bobbart — Bob Bartholomew <bobbart_99@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: May 2012

Summary: A young Clark Kent is struggling to get by in a world that never recovered from Nightfall. With no Lois Lane, no Daily Planet and Metropolis in ruins, will he find the inspiration to step up and make a difference?

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. I have no claim on the pre-existing characters whatsoever, nor am I profiting by their use. The new story elements are mine. No infringement is intended by this work.

***

Prelude: The Pub — Elsewhere

Clancy looked around at the inside of the bar. There was a lot of dark wood. The walls had the right mix of pictures and other paraphernalia. The tables, chairs and barstools were all clean and in their places. The room looked comfortable and welcoming. He looked carefully around the empty room again. Everything here told the story of a gathering place that had been welcoming guests for many years. If this was going to work, it had to feel right.

It was almost time to start. He turned toward the doorway behind the bar. “Ben, are you ready?”

Ben stepped through the door. He was a huge bear of a man but had that fatherly look about him that made other people comfortable. “I think we’re as ready as we’re going to get,” he replied.

Clancy glanced down at a control screen in front of him. There were so many lines. Many were bright, but not all. He adjusted a control and the field of lines shifted to the left. After a few minutes of searching, he found it. This was the line that had moved him to take action. In this region, most of the lines were bright, but there was one exception. Right there in the middle of a bright region was a line so dark that it looked black. He adjusted another control and the image shifted along the direction that the lines ran. This dark line had started out like the others, neither particularly bright nor dark. But there was a point where the other lines brightened while this one turned dark. He looked up at Ben. “It’s show time.”

Part 1: Clark Kent — Metropolis

“We need to keep moving,” Clark called out to his friend Paul who had stopped to look in through the broken window of a burned-out shop. “We need to get out of this area.”

“Go on,” his friend called back. “I’m right behind you.”

With a heavy sigh, Clark turned and started back. “We don’t want to get separated,” he called to his friend. “It’s past curfew now. If we get picked up…”

“Clark, you’re such an old lady. Don’t worry so much. Besides, once we get across this dead section, we’ll be at my apartment.”

Clark finally made it back to where Paul had stopped. The old shop was nothing but a pile of empty shelves and broken glass. Paul had to have known that there would be nothing here. None of these had reopened after Nightfall, and that had been over twenty years ago. “C’mon, Paul,” Clark pleaded. “There isn’t anything here.”

“You never know,” Paul replied, as he continued to poke around and look through the debris. “I’ve heard stories of cans of food and sometimes even some stuff of real value that people find buried in places like this.”

“We’ve all grown up hearing those,” Clark replied tiredly. “They’re nothing but stories. These places were all picked over right after Nightfall. Anything the first round of scroungers might have missed would have been found in the first year or two of the Empire.”

Paul paused in his search and looked back at Clark with a smile. “You know me, I’m always an optimist. Besides, if you don’t look, you’ll never find that one thing that others missed.”

Clark had to smile back. Paul was an optimist. That was one of the things that Clark enjoyed about him. In a world as messed up as theirs, people like Paul were a breath of fresh air. Clark was about to reply when he heard people moving nearby. He concentrated and was able to make out voices. “…said they were in the area. Two males. Probably kids looking for trouble.” Then Clark heard another voice respond. “They found it.”

“Paul, we need to get out of here now,” Clark said, his voice suddenly stressed. “I think I heard someone coming this way. It could be the Patrol.”

That got Paul’s attention. Nobody wanted to be picked up by The People’s Patrol. If they found you in a restricted zone, you were likely to never be seen again. “Let’s go,” he said quickly, his face now a mask of fear.

They scrambled out of the shop and resumed the path that would lead them to Paul’s apartment. At first, it seemed like they had left the Patrol behind, but as they reached the edge of the restricted zone they found the final street blocked by two Patrol officers. They were watching the street for anyone trying to get across.

As Clark considered the two officers in front of them, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. He had to do something right now, or Paul would be in a labor camp by morning. “We need a diversion,” he said to Paul in hushed tones. “I’m faster than you. I’m going to run across their line of sight and try to get them to follow me to the left. All you need to do is get across the street and you should be fine.”

“You know what patrollers do to anyone that they see running away,” Paul replied. “In this area they’ll start shooting as soon as they see you run.”

“They won’t hit me and they won’t catch me. Besides, I don’t have any ties to Metropolis. If they catch you, then your family and all their friends will attract the attention of the Patrol. I can’t let that happen.” Clark could see that mentioning the risk to Paul’s family had decided it. “I’ll be fine. Now, get ready.”

Clark waited only long enough to be sure Paul would be prepared to go in an instant. Then he bolted from the alley. He ran in the opposite direction that Paul would have to go. Both patrollers shouted for him to stop. As soon as they saw him, both officers reached for their weapons.

Clark ran at a speed that would be expected of a very fast normal man. Since he knew the shots were sure to come at any instant, he ran a tight zig-zag pattern.

He heard the first shot and then another. He could hear each bullet fly past. Good! This meant that both patrollers were focused on him. He risked a quick look back over his shoulder and managed to see Paul in the distance making it to safety.

Clark didn’t want to risk drawing the patrollers into the safe zone where they might find Paul, so he turned back toward the restricted zone. He’d gone far enough that once he was out of the patrollers’ sight he could disappear into the sky without fear of being spotted by anyone else. He heard two more shots and felt both hit him right in the center of the back of his head. Well, no harm done. In another few seconds the only thing that the patrollers would be able to report would be a man disappearing into the restricted zone.

With a final glance back at his pursuers, he veered into an alley. That brief look back turned out to be a mistake as he barreled over a trash can and went sprawling to the ground.

Before he could recover, he felt arms lifting him to his feet. “Hurry up. They’re right behind you.” Whoever this man was, he was big. “This way,” the man said, pulling Clark to the side of the alley. Before he really knew what was happening he was through a doorway. Only when they were inside did his benefactor let go of his arm and close the door.

Help was the last thing that Clark needed, but there was nothing to be done about it now. “Thanks for the help, but those are patrollers. You shouldn’t have risked it.”

The big man just laughed. The sound filled the room like an earthquake. “Don’t worry, son. They’ll never find that door. Once it’s closed there’s no sign of it from that alley.”

Clark glanced at the door and tried to see if the patrollers had gone by, but his x-ray vision couldn’t penetrate either the door or the wall. He almost asked if the room had lead shielding, but thought better of it. He just hoped the big man knew what he was doing. Clark turned back to face the man. “My name’s Clark Kent.”

The big man smiled and thrust his hand out toward Clark. “Ben Wojciehowicz,” the man offered.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Mr. Wojciehowicz. I’m not a troublemaker, and I promise that the only thing I was guilty of was taking a shortcut across the restricted zone after curfew.”

There was that room-shaking laugh again. “Call me Ben,” he said pleasantly. “I believe you. I’m a good judge of people and I knew you were good folks before I pulled you through the doorway. Now, follow me and we’ll get you someplace where you can relax and get a bite to eat before you go on your way.”

Ben turned and started down a flight of stairs. “We have a ways to walk,” he said over his shoulder. “This is a remote entrance for the pub I work in. I think it was a secret entrance left over from prohibition. I check the door once a day. It’s a good thing for you that you ducked in that alley when you did. Any other time and you would have never seen a door.”

The stairs ended in a narrow tunnel lit by a line of light bulbs hung from the ceiling. They walked for several minutes as the tunnel changed directions a few times. Eventually they came to a set of ascending stairs. The trap door at the top led to a small office. As he climbed into the room, Clark could hear crowd noise from beyond the far door.

“We’re in Clancy’s place,” Ben said as he closed the trap door. “You can relax here for a while before you go on your way.”

“I really shouldn’t stay,” Clark started. He wanted to check to see if Paul had made it home.

Just then, the door opened. “Ben, who’s your friend?”

Clark looked up to find a man standing in the doorway. He had sandy red hair, a medium build and a friendly smile.

“Clancy, I’d like you to meet Clark Kent,” Ben answered. “I was checking the far door and there he was. Clark here looked like he could use a hand with a tight situation.”

Clancy stepped over and stuck out his hand, “We aren’t used to anyone coming in through that way. Welcome to Many Worlds.”

“Many Worlds?” Clark asked.

“That’s the name of this place. It’s kind of a theme that all the regulars use.” Clancy paused at Clark’s obvious confusion. “Don’t worry. You’ll see once you’ve been out in the main room for a few minutes.”

At the mention of spending time there, Clark suddenly remembered the patrollers. “Thank you for helping me out, sir,” he replied. “But I really should be going. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you with the Patrol.”

“Call me Clancy. As for the people that you’re worried about, well, we don’t have any trouble with the Patrol here. I assure you that you can stay as long as you like and no patroller will even know you’re here.” Clancy stepped back and looked Clark over. “When was the last time you had a decent meal?”

In reality, Clark hadn’t eaten for over a month. As much as he liked to eat, the ability to get by on no food had made survival much easier for him than for many he’d met in his life. “A while,” he finally answered.

“I thought so. Why don’t you come on out to the bar and I’ll get you something?”

“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t…”

“You don’t have any money,” Clancy finished for him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll serve you at the bar and you can fill me in on how you ended up at my back door. I’m sure your story will be worth more to me than the cost of anything you can eat.”

Clark could smell the aromas of food from the pub clearly. What would be the harm of telling some of his story? “Okay, if you’re sure you want to swap a meal for the chance to talk with me, I’m in.”

“Great,” Clancy replied and then turned and headed out the door that led to the bar.

Clark glanced at Ben and the big man waved his hand to indicate that Clark should follow Clancy. He followed Clancy down a short hallway. They went past the public restrooms and entered the main part of the bar. Clark could see why both Clancy and Ben had called it a pub. It looked like a perfect mix of restaurant and bar. It was as clean as any modern establishment, but had a pleasing old-world feel. There were many people seated around tables or on stools at the bar. Some had only a beverage, but most were enjoying meals.

There were no families with children, but there were all manner of other people. As Clark passed one of the tables where three women about his own age were sitting together, he clearly heard the lone blonde in the group say, “Hey, stranger.” And she definitely smiled at him.

That act of open flirtation took Clark by surprise. No one was that relaxed in public. It just wasn’t safe. Clancy indicated an open seat at the bar and Clark sat down. When his host reached the other side, he seemed to pick up on Clark’s confusion. “What’s wrong?” Clancy asked.

Clark looked out over the mostly filled bar. “All these people… They seem to be having so much fun. They’re all so… relaxed.”

“I try to run a friendly place,” Clancy replied casually.

“But the People’s Police… the curfews… the prohibition against gatherings?” Clark asked.

Clancy set a pint of ale in front of Clark. “Just try to relax and enjoy yourself. I’ll have some food for you in a few minutes.” Clancy started to turn away but seemed to think of something at the last minute and turned back. “And Clark, do you remember what I said about the name of this place?”

“You said it was called Many Worlds,” Clark answered.

“Right. Well, you’ll probably hear people talking as if this were another time or as if they came from another place. You should… Well, you’re welcome to say anything you want about where you come from, but please try to keep an open mind. It may be hard to believe, but not everyone here is crazy.”

“What?” Clark asked, confused. “What does that mean?”

Clancy smiled the smile of a man who knows a secret. “You’ll figure it out. Just humor us and everything will be fine.”

Part 2: Lois Lane — Metropolis

Metropolis really did deserve the name, ‘the city that never sleeps.’ Lois Lane, new graduate of Metropolis University’s journalism program, loved this city. At one time, she’d have expected to be spending this evening with family or a boyfriend, but her life hadn’t worked out that way.

At least her mom and sister had been present earlier today at her graduation ceremony. Of course, her dad was a no show, but at least that meant that she hadn’t had to deal with her parents fighting.

Tonight was a right-of-passage night. Yesterday she’d been a student and tomorrow she’d be the newest member of the Daily Planet’s news team.

After the graduation ceremony, she’d made a quick stop at the Planet to make sure that everything was in place for her first day of work tomorrow. Afterwards she’d spent time settling into her new apartment. It was small, but Lois didn’t mind. She was sure of her abilities and knew what it took to succeed in this city. Metropolis could be hard, but if you were strong enough to face its special challenges head-on, the city could be generous.

She looked around again. This was the best time to be out in the city. The sun had gone down and the bright lights had come on. During the day, the city was grey and hard. At night, the neon transformed the featureless grey walls into color-filled mosaics.

As Lois let her gaze wander across the lights and signs that illuminated the street, her eyes stopped on an especially brightly lighted storefront. The sign said Many Worlds in beautifully stylized script. But it wasn’t the name that caught her attention. Every few seconds a set of two letters would appear. The letters cycled, but there were only a few. In the course of the minute or so that she watched, she saw, ‘PW’, ‘CK’ and ‘LL’.

It was the LL that caught her attention. It wasn’t just the fact that those were her initials. There were two strange things about the ‘LL’. First, for the other pairs of letters, each time they appeared, the letters were in the same color and the same style. For some reason the ‘LL’ appeared twice as often as the others, and the shape and color changed. One version was a very formal-looking ‘LL’ in gold. The other was a much more stylized ‘LL’ in a dark royal purple. What amazed her was that the second version of ‘LL’ was almost exactly the way she sometimes wrote her initials. And that shade of purple was her favorite color.

A closer look revealed the place to be some kind of bar. It looked friendly enough, and it took only a second to decide that this was a place she had to check out.

Once inside, she discovered that it was a little less modern than she’d expected based on all that neon on the outside, but it had a nice feel to it. And the food smelled great. None of the tables were open, but she saw that many of the people at the bar had food in front of them. Lois went over to an empty seat at the end of the bar. She figured that at least that way she wouldn’t have to have strangers sitting on both sides of her.

She’d barely sat down when the bartender came over. “Welcome to Many Worlds. What can I get for you this fine evening?”

Lois liked the sound of his voice. She’d been in too many places where the bartender was more interested in getting a date that providing a drink. This guy was old enough to be her dad but felt a little like her Uncle Mike. “First, you can tell me what all those letters mean.”

“Letters?” the bartender asked.

“On the outside of the building,” she replied shortly. “They’re even on the wall behind you,” she added, pointing over his shoulder.

The bartender turned and glanced at the smaller versions of the letters that she’d seen on the outside of the building. “Oh, those,” he said as he turned back to face her. “They’re initials of famous people.”

“Who?” Lois asked.

“This is your first time here, isn’t it?”

“Yes. So?” Lois replied, growing irritated.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said, somewhat defensively. “But it’s a rule in Many Worlds that we never reveal that until your second time here. I hope you enjoy our little establishment enough to grace us with another visit. I promise that if you don’t know by then, I’ll tell you who they are myself.”

“I guess I can live with that,” Lois said with a resigned shrug. “So what do you have that’s good?”

“We have a full menu, and I’m told that our red ale is exceptional. As for food…” The bartender made a show of looking Lois over. “…I think you would enjoy a chicken sandwich. I assure you, it’s very good.”

“Those sound good,” Lois said.

“I’ll be right back.”

As the bartender turned away, Lois heard a voice from the man next to her. “I hadn’t noticed those letters before.”

Lois turned to face him. She was expecting a smarmy guy using his favorite pick-up line for this place. Instead, she saw a cute man, about her own age, staring at the letters over the back mirror. He looked anything but smarmy. He turned to face her. Okay, he was very good looking. But there was something else. This man had led a hard life. Lois wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she was certain that she could see it in his eyes. It took only a second to decide that he was safe to talk to. “How could you miss those initials? They’re all over the front of the building. In fact, those aren’t the only versions in the bar.”

“You’re kidding,” he said. Then he tuned away from the bar and looked out over the seating area. “I didn’t come in through the front door, so I never had the chance to see the front of the building. I’m usually pretty good at noticing things, but I’ve been a little distracted tonight. Where are the other versions?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you. The bartender…”

“Clancy,” the man supplied.

“Clancy said that they are initials of people, but he wouldn’t tell me who they are. Since that seems to be some kind of house rule, I’m not sure I’m allowed tell you anything about them.” She was smiling broadly by the time she’d finished. Lois could hardly believe how quickly she’d fallen into a flirtatious pattern with this man. There was something about him that made her feel very comfortable.

“Fair enough,” he answered, with a smile of his own. “But you see, if they’re initials, this gets a lot more personal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, believe it or not, one of those sets matches my name.”

“You’re kidding. It’s not the LL is it?”

His face turned dark. “No, I think I know who the LL initials belong to. I…” He stopped to compose himself. “No, not the LL. My name is Clark Kent.”

“Really,” she replied. “So your initials are ‘CK’.”

“Yes,” he answered.

“That means I’m sitting in your seat.”

Clark looked back and forth between the barstools. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“Look carefully at the back of the seat,” she directed as she turned so that he was looking at her back.

Clark dragged his eyes down past the very pleasant form of her back until his gaze came to rest on the barstool. Sure enough, ‘CK’ was printed on the back of the seat in small silver letters. “I guess you are,” he replied. “Are you…” Clark twisted to see the letters on his own chair. “… ‘PW’? If so, we should definitely swap seats.”

“No, I’m not ‘PW’.” Then a more serious look crossed her face. “Why do you think you know what the ‘LL’ stands for?”

Before Clark could reply, Clancy arrived with a pint of ale and a plate with the sandwich and some chips. “Here you go, Miss. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thank you.”

Now that the food had arrived, Lois suddenly felt hungry. She pulled the plate toward her and reached for the mug. As her hand closed on the handle of the mug, she heard Clark say, “The red ale is very good. But be careful, it’s a little strong.”

Lois gave him a sidelong look before taking a sip from her glass. “You’re right. It is good.” Then she thought for a moment. “But it doesn’t seem that strong.”

“Well, tonight is my first time here and I haven’t had enough to affect me, but based on how I’ve seen other people become overly… relaxed, you should probably stop at one pint.”

“So you don’t think I’m attractive?” Lois asked as she took a bite from her sandwich.

Clark’s eyes went wide. “What? No. You’re very…” he stuttered out, clearly flustered. “Why would you think that?” he finally forced out.

“I thought that when a guy met a pretty girl in a bar, one of his goals was to encourage her to drink too much.”

“No. That isn’t what all guys do,” he said in a noticeably less friendly tone.

She suddenly realized that she’d all but accused him of being some kind of slime ball. She might as well have said that she thought he was the kind of person that would get a woman drunk to take advantage of her. “Great job, girl.” She mumbled to herself. “I meet a nice guy and insult him within five minutes of saying hello. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to flirt. No wonder all my relationships are disasters.”

They were quiet for a minute or two while Lois ate some of her meal. The food was very good. She’d have to remember this place. Of course, there was no way she’d forget a place with her initials all over it. Then she remembered her interrupted question to Clark. “You said you thought you knew who the ‘LL’ person was.”

Clark looked up at the letters behind the bar. “I’d have to guess that the ones in gold are Lex Luthor. But I can’t imagine why anyone would put up something that looks like a tribute to him.”

“Who’s Lex Luthor?”

“Who’s…?” Clark replied, startled. Then he seemed to remember something. “That’s right, many worlds. I forgot for a second.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I guess you didn’t get the lecture. Okay, I’ll tell you, but you need the lecture first.”

“Lecture?” Lois asked.

“Sure. The reason this place is called Many Worlds is that everyone comes — or pretends to come — from different times and places. Get it? We are all from many different worlds.”

“What?” Lois asked incredulously. Clearly, she’d walked into a gathering for Metropolis crazies.

“It sounds crazy to me too,” Clark said as if he were reading her mind. “But see that table over there…” Clark pointed to a table with some men in old-fashioned suits. “I heard them talking. They seem to think it’s the 1940’s and they are trying to figure out how to get out of a gang run by someone called the Spider Lady.” Then Clark pointed to another table. “Those women seem to be from 2008. They were talking about a vigilante that goes around in a green suit with a bow and arrow. They were also talking about some other mysterious person they called the Blur.”

Then Clark turned to face her. He looked as sincere as anyone Lois could remember. “I suspect that the place you come from will be very different than what I would tell you, but I’ve heard enough here tonight not to let it bother me too much. I’m sure my story will probably sound as crazy to you as theirs did to me.” He paused to give that information a chance to soak in. “So, now that we have that out of the way, do you want to hear about where I come from and why I’m sure that set of initials is for Lex Luthor?”

Lois was glad that Clark had apparently forgiven her for the earlier slight. He seemed like a nice guy. It didn’t matter if his story sounded crazy. She still hadn’t even given him her name. “Sure, Clark, but I hope you understand if I don’t necessarily believe everything you say.”

“Based on some of the stories I’ve heard tonight, I’d be surprised if anything I say about where I come from even sounded sane.”

In some ways his open admission that what he was about to say would probably sound crazy put Lois much more at ease. At least she didn’t have to pretend. But the casual way he gave her leave to not believe him left her wondering. “You’ve warned me. I promise I’ll listen with an open mind, but whether I believe it or not is up to me. Let’s hear your story.”

Part 3: Lois and Clark: The Pub

“It’s not so much my story as the story of where I come from.”

Clark paused, but the woman just waited. He really wished she’d told him her name, but the fact that she hadn’t offered it yet showed a reticence that he understood too well. Her whole manner spoke of a history very different from his, yet they seemed to share the same instinctive caution.

“First of all,” he started, “I come from the year 2023.”

He paused, figuring that the girl was going to object. She started to interrupt but didn’t quite get there. Quickly she motioned him to continue. “My world is a mess and has been for nearly 30 years. Back in 1994 the world was hit by an asteroid called Nightfall. All of civilization was thrown into chaos.”

He watched the woman for signs of disbelief. All he saw was interest, so he continued. “Most of the great cities were completely destroyed. Metropolis was one of the few exceptions. Not only did Metropolis survive physically, but it also provided the organizational base for one man to start the rebuilding process. This man, Lex Luthor, had survived thanks to a heavily fortified bunker he’d built right here in Metropolis. He emerged from the destruction with more organization than the government had left. Within a year, a new government was in place. Instead of the United States we had the Empire of America.”

Clark turned and pointed at the gold LL on the wall. “That was his personal symbol.”

“I’d think getting the country back on its feet would be a good thing,” the girl said. “But it’s clear that you don’t think it was. So tell me the rest of the story.”

“I told you that it was called the Empire of America. The justification for such a… radical name was that to recover from Nightfall required bold ideas and bold deeds. Luthor looked to the great empires of Eurasia for guidance. Less than a year after Nightfall, the Empire had replaced the United States. Instead of a president, we had Emperor Luthor.

Clark paused and took a sip of water before continuing. “The bold deeds that Luthor had mentioned turned out to be year after year of martial law and disappearing people. The years ticked by and things barely got better. Luthor kept explaining that the destruction from Nightfall had been too great and stressed the need for shared sacrifice. When there seemed to be injustice, most people attributed it to necessity.”

“Didn’t people figure out what was going on?” Lois asked.

“We all came to learn the power inherent in complete control of communication. Nightfall destroyed most of the worldwide communication systems. Those parts that were left were brought under Luthor’s control.”

“What about things like HAM radios?” she asked. “Those are nearly impossible to restrict.”

“Luthor was resourceful. With the right tools, you can track down any radio. Luthor’s teams were ruthless. Whenever they located an illegal broadcast site, Luthor’s people would go in and kill every person in that region. Whole towns were wiped off the map for being near an unauthorized radio transmission.”

Clark shook himself. This girl wasn’t interested in the whole history of his world. “Anyway, Luthor died in a freak accident in 2010 and his Empire collapsed. Unfortunately, the government that replaced him is almost as bad. I’ve lived my whole life under martial law, and it all started with him.”

She seemed to be considering his story and after a minute she looked back at the initials. “So if these stand for this man Luthor,” she said, “Then the others must be related somehow.” She stared at the initials for a moment. “CK,” she mused. “I assume that you never met the man?”

“No. I grew up in the Kent orphanage in Smallville, Kansas. It’s nowhere near Metropolis, and I was only 9 years old when he died.”

“The Kent orphanage? Is that where your name comes from?”

“Yes. This couple, the Kents, founded an orphanage in the 1970’s after they found out that they couldn’t have children.”

She considered that for a moment. “Were there any CKs that played a role in Luthor’s life?”

“Not in any history that I’ve read.”

She looked again at the initials. “Do any of those match up with other people in his life?”

Clark looked again. “Well, there is one possibility. The other LL.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luthor’s wife had the same initials.”

“Why would that mean anything? There are lots of women’s first names that start with an L.”

“No,” Clark replied. “Her initials were LL before they were married. Her maiden name was Lois Lane.”

The woman’s face went pale. After several long seconds, she muttered, “What?”

“Before Nightfall she’d been the top investigative reporter for The Daily Planet newspaper here in Metropolis. No one knows exactly how she went from being a reporter to the wife of the Emperor, but that’s what happened. Anyway, before she married Luthor, she apparently had a reputation for truth and fairness. The history books say that her presence at his side in the early days added an element of credibility to Luthor’s claims about working for the betterment of the people.”

“What happened to her?” the woman asked, barely above a whisper.

“After Luthor died, evidence turned up that indicated that she had been responsible for many of the worst acts of the regime. Apparently, it was she, not Lex Luthor, who had been the real force of evil behind the Empire. Her trial was the spectacle of 2011. She tried to argue that Lex Luthor had fabricated the evidence and had it hidden away in case he ever faced a trial. Some believed her, but with Luthor already dead, most people wanted someone to blame for what Luthor’s empire had done. She was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.”

He paused for a moment, but the girl seemed lost in thought, so he continued. “For my part, I’ll never believe she was anything but another victim.”

That got her attention. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“About two years ago I was here in Metropolis. I’d been near a Patrol action and got pulled into the People’s Court as a witness. By pure coincidence, it was the day of her 10-year review-of-sentence. I was in the right place at the right time and I saw her. For one brief second she looked in my direction and we made eye contact. Even over 50 and with all that she’d been through, she was beautiful. But there was something more. When we made eye contact, it was as if I could see into her soul. It may sound crazy, but in that instant I just knew… There was no evil in her.”

The woman had been staring at the letters on the back wall. She slowly turned to Clark and they locked eyes. She suddenly looked incredibly sad. Clark felt the almost overwhelming need to put his arms around her and say that no matter what, he’d do what he could to help. After a long moment, she started to speak. Her voice was soft but very deliberate. “I come from Metropolis in the year 1988. Tomorrow I start my first job as a reporter for The Daily Planet. My name is Lois Lane.”

For a second Clark was speechless, but as he looked at this young woman, the resemblance to the older woman he’d seen so briefly became clear. “I see it,” he said quietly. “It was the hair that threw me. In all of her pictures, Lois Luthor wore her hair long. Yours looks so much nicer. I don’t see why she… you… ever change it.”

Then Lois’s head popped up. “Perry White,” she said softly.

“Excuse me?”

Now she looked animated again, “The PW initials,” she said excitedly, pointing at the letters. “Perry White is the editor of the Daily Planet. If I’m the LL then Mr. White might be the PW.”

“How…” Clark started.

But Lois cut him off. “That has to be it. The purple LL initials have to be mine. I’ve used that style and color for my initials since I was a little girl. My being here can’t be a coincidence.”

“Miss Lane…” Clark tried to get her attention.

She reached out and touched his arm. “Call me Lois. After all, you seem to know more abut me than I do. And if you’re right, we’ve met before… Well, sort of.”

Her touch sent a warm, pleasant shiver through his whole body. He shook off the feeling and pressed on. “Lois, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

Her face turned stern. “Were you telling the truth about where you come from?”

“Yes,” he replied solemnly.

“So was I,” she retorted.

“But how? Why?” Clark sputtered.

“I don’t know,” she answered thoughtfully. “But if I am the LL on that wall, and Perry White is the PW, then maybe you’re the CK.”

“How could I be?”

“How can any of this be?” she asked, sweeping her arm to indicate the whole pub. “But I’ll tell you what… This Lois Lane won’t be marrying anyone named Luthor.”

“But your marrying Luthor is history. How… How can you change what’s already happened?” Clark asked.

“It may be your past, but it’s my future. Listen, Clark, my future has already changed. Like I said, whatever else happens I won’t be marrying anyone named Luthor. Not only that, but didn’t you say that Nightfall was due in 1994?”

“Yes,” Clark answered. “It hit in early January, right after Christmas.”

“That means I have over five years to see if I can help people get ready for it.”

“They’ll think you’re crazy.”

“No they won’t. I’m not going to start shouting ‘the sky is falling’ or anything like that. I’m going to be a reporter. I can cultivate friendships with scientists that may be in a position to look for Nightfall when it comes. Do you know if any attempts were made to divert the asteroid?”

“Yes, at least that’s what I learned in school. But it wasn’t spotted until only a few days before it hit. There was only time for one desperate try with a rocket. Once that failed, there was no time to do anything else.”

“Don’t you see?” she asked enthusiastically. “If I can get the right people looking in the right place, there will be time for plans and back-up plans. I have to do something,” she added, her voice now sounding like a plea. “I may not get along with my family very well, but if what you say is true, I could lose them to Nightfall.”

“She… you did,” Clark said. “Lois Lane lost everything to Nightfall.”

This news seemed to hit her hard. After a moment, she turned to him. “Do you have any family?”

“No. I was never adopted, and as an adult I’ve sort of drifted around.”

Lois was quiet as she stared at the mirror behind the bar. It was clear that she was processing all that she’d learned. A minute later her energy seemed to return and she turned to face Clark. “Come back with me,” she said, her voice suddenly urgent.

“What!? I… I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I don’t come from your world. Besides, I don’t think it’s possible.” Clark pointed at the entrance. “If a person could just walk from one world to another, I think you’d have people wandering into the wrong world all the time.”

Lois turned and watched the door for a moment. “Do you notice that the guy at the door makes sure that everyone leaving goes through the door one at a time?”

“That’s Ben. I noticed that he was monitoring the door. I thought he was just making sure that no one was taking any alcoholic beverage outside.”

“He is doing that,” Lois replied. “But given the nature of this place, it can’t be a coincidence that everyone leaves one person at a time. I’ll bet there’s something in the door that senses the person that opens it and sends them back to their world. I’ll bet that if another person followed right behind without the door closing, that person would end up in the same place as the person that opened the door.”

Clark’s mind was spinning. Going back and preventing the events that wrecked his world sounded like the right thing to do. And the idea of trying to save the world at Lois’s side was even more appealing.

Lois paid her bill and seemed to be getting ready to leave. “Clark, I have to think we met here today for a reason. I have a question, and I want you to think carefully before you answer.”

“Go ahead,” he said.

“With all you know, do you believe you could help the rest of us do a better job of getting through the Nightfall crisis?”

Clark had always been fascinated by Lex Luthor. He knew more than many about the criminal organization that had served as Luthor’s power base. With his help it might be possible for Lois to bring down Luthor before Nightfall arrived. As for Nightfall, there might be even more that he could do. In that world, maybe one man with his special abilities could make a difference. But he did have connections to his own world. Wouldn’t it be better to spend his efforts helping in the place he belonged?

She interrupted his muse. “All those initials… those people on the wall, do you think they’re connected?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Then you have to come. That must have been why things went so badly.”

“What do you mean?”

“In my time, Perry White and I are already planning to work together. I’ve never heard of Lex Luthor. Did he only appear after Nightfall hit?”

“No,” Clark replied. “He rose to fame sometime around 1990. By the time Nightfall hit, he had become one of the richest men in the world and the most powerful man in Metropolis.”

“So what if when the crisis came, CK was missing? What if everything went wrong because you weren’t there?”

A look of anguish crossed Clark’s face. “Lois, I want to come. I really do. But the odds are that those initials belong to someone else entirely. Someone in your own time. Someone that you just haven’t met yet. I’ll bet that with what you now know, you’ll be ready when your CK shows up. You’ll get that person up to speed and all of you together will be ready for Luthor and Nightfall.”

Clark’s plea was genuine. Even more, it was logical. Just because Clark was here and had the same initials as on the wall, didn’t mean that he was the CK that needed to be there to help in her time. She should take what she’d learned here tonight and go back and get started on saving her world.

***

She almost got up and left, but as she moved to stand she looked up at Clark. Her eyes locked with his and she felt it. There was something there. Some kind of connection. Clark had described what he’d felt when he’d met her older self. Now she knew what he meant. In that instant she was sure that Clark was her CK.

“Clancy!” Lois shouted.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked when he arrived.

“Nothing,” Lois answered. “What you can do is to tell Clark that he should come back with me.”

Clancy’s face went stiff. “That’s not my place,” he replied cautiously after he’d recovered.

“Lois.” Clark interjected. “I told you that you need to look for your CK in your time.”

Lois’s head whipped back toward Clancy. “Does CK stand for Clark Kent?” she asked, her voice suddenly cold and serious.

Clancy paused for a second before answering. “Yes.”

“Is there another Clark Kent back in my time?”

“No,” Clancy replied solemnly.

“What is this place?” Lois asked, her tone suddenly hopeful.

“This is a site for the principals,” he pointed over his shoulder toward the groups of initials, “to meet, and possibly make connections. Other people can find this place, but only if they’ve met one or more of the principals. Only a principal can leave and go to a place that they didn’t originate from.”

“So Clark can come to my world?” Lois asked.

“Yes,” he answered. Then he looked at Clark. “But once you step into a different world, you’ll never be able to go back. If you leave together, neither of you will ever see my pub again.”

There was a long moment of silence before Clark finally spoke up. “Could I really make a difference?”

Clancy’s face turned deadly serious. “I honestly don’t know what will happen. The reason this place is here is to provide an opportunity to make things better. But there is simply no way to know until you decide.” Then he paused again — but only for a second — before continuing. “But with your… unique talents, there’s always room for hope.”

Clark’s eyes went wide at the phrase “unique talents,” but after another moment he simply nodded. Then he turned to Lois. “I’m going to need help…”

Lois cut him off excitedly. “Of course.”

“…and a friend,” Clark finished.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” Lois stuttered.

Clark just looked at her for a long moment. “Then I think it’s time for us to leave,” he said as he stood and offered her his hand.

Lois could feel her heart pounding. She reached out, took his hand in hers and let him help her stand. “Let’s go,” she said.

As they approached the door, still holding hands, Ben just smiled and waved them through. When they reached the door, Lois made sure that it was she that grasped the handle and opened the door to the Metropolis she knew. As they entered the doorway to what would certainly be a very different world than either of them would have known alone, Lois turned to Clark and asked, “What are these unique talents that Clancy mentioned?”

The door closed behind them before Clark could answer.

Epilogue: The Pub — Elsewhere

Once Lois and Clark had gone, it only took a few minutes to clear the bar of the remaining peripherals. As had been the case all night, there were a few minor incidents of individuals from different origins trying to leave together, but by-and-large the closing went smoothly.

After closing the door for the last time, Ben walked over to Clancy who was standing behind the bar. “So it worked,” Ben offered.

“I hope it did,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked. “It was perfect. I could see them starting to bond from across the room.”

“I hope you’re right. That was why we picked those two as our trial run. In this world-line, they should have had the chance to be together. It’s a miracle that he arrived on Earth at all with a barely functioning guidance computer in his ship. It got him here 35 years late, but he got here. Now that he’s in the right time, all we can do is hope.”

“We can do more than hope,” Ben offered. “Have you checked yet?”

“No. I’m a little scared. He wasn’t raised by the Kents. What if this change wasn’t enough?”

“You know we couldn’t move him any younger,” Ben offered consolingly. “If the change was any larger, all we would have done is to split the timeline. That wouldn’t make anything better.”

“I know,” Clancy replied tiredly. After another moment he seemed to gather his strength. “We might as well see how they do.”

Clancy pressed a button that opened a control panel. The screen showed a field of lines, some bright and others less so. Clancy adjusted a control and the lines shifted to a region where most of the lines were very bright. As the device came to the region that had been the catalyst for this enterprise, both Ben and Clancy looked carefully to discover the results of their effort.

THE END

Bottom Notes:

“The Pub” was inspired by a place called “The Bakery” which is the creation of the LnC writer Dandello. If you enjoyed the concept, I recommend those stories.

“The Spider Lady” was the lead villain in the original Superman serials produced in 1948 starring Nole Niell as Lois Lane and Kirk Alyn as Clark Kent.

“The Blur” is the pre-Superman identity of Clark Kent in the television series “Smallville.”

Operation: Cupid

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: February 2012

Summary: Valentine’s Day can be depressing when you are single. Luckily for Lois, Clark is determined to change her mind about that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing. All Lois and Clark characters, lines of dialogue, and plot points belong to Warner Brothers, DC Comics, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. I just enjoy playing with them for some not-for-profit fun.

Author’s Note: This takes place on Valentine’s Day 1994, which would be Lois and Clark’s first one knowing each other. For the purposes of this story, Lois and Lex are not dating. Because, seriously, ewww.

***

Clark Kent’s head snapped up from its current position of being bent over the pile of research on his work desk. He counted down in his head. 5…4…3…2…1. The elevator softly dinged, and the doors slid open. Even over the din of the Monday morning hustle and bustle of the bullpen, it was easy for him to pick up on the one heartbeat that gave his own meaning.

Lois Lane swept into the bullpen, babbling to Jimmy at about a thousand miles a minute. A smile ghosted over Clark’s lips. Most people couldn’t stand Lois’ tendency to babble, and went to great lengths to avoid encountering it. But, while occasionally it made Clark’s head spin, he found that he actually liked it most of the time. He found it oddly endearing. Tuning in his super hearing to her voice, he could instantly tell that she was not happy this morning. He frowned as he watched her progress through the thick of the newsroom. At a sharp word, Jimmy scampered away, promising to redouble his efforts to find the information that she needed for the story that she and Clark were working on. As she came closer, Clark bent his head again and pretended to be focused on the huge stack of papers before him.

“Ugh,” Lois complained as she reached her desk and set down her purse.

“Good morning, Lois,” Clark said cheerfully, acting as though he was just noticing her arrival.

“Please, tell me that you’ve got something on the corruption at City Hall,” she said, half demanding, half pleading.

“Good morning, Clark,” he said aloud. “How are you this morning? Oh, I’m great, Lois. Thanks for asking.”

Lois’ eyes narrowed into slits as she sat in her chair and crossed her arms before her chest. “Don’t start with me today, Kent,” she said venomously.

“Everything okay?” Clark asked, now growing concerned. He could usually get at least a half-smile out of his partner when he teased her.

“No, everything is not all right,” she snapped back.

Clark stood from his desk and moved to Lois’. He leaned his hip against the side of the desk. His hand lightly came to rest on her shoulder, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked soothingly.

“No,” Lois said firmly, shrugging out of his touch.

“Oooo-kay,” Clark replied, stretching the word out, unsure of what he could say next. He shoved his hands in his pockets, like a shy teenager.

“Today is a disaster,” Lois said, launching straight back into babble-mode before Clark could drift away from her desk. “My car wouldn’t start this morning. Six cabs passed me by before I found one who would stop. My mother wants to have lunch with me today. Personally, I’d rather have a root canal. But she won’t take no for an answer, so I’m stuck. Plus, my sister sent me an email all about her newest boyfriend, like she wants to rub it in or something. I finally get to work and buy a cup of coffee, only to have some idiot bike messenger try to cut me off to get into the elevator, knocking the cup from my hand. Four bucks, down the drain just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis. “And now, I am in the middle of what could be a Kerth-worthy story only to find dead-end after dead-end. So yes, I’m a bit grumpy today. Deal with it.”

Lois’ rant came to an abrupt end as Perry bellowed for her. She rolled her eyes and stood, slamming her palms down on the desktop as she did so. Without another word, she turned and stalked off to the editor’s office. Clark stood in place for a moment, stunned. He didn’t think that she’d even paused to take a breath during her tirade. In a way, it was kind of impressive. Still, knowing that Lois was so upset this morning bothered him. There had to be something that he could do to alleviate some of her distress. He wasn’t a mechanic, so fixing her car was out of the question. He could offer to take Lois to lunch, or at least accompany her, so that she didn’t have to face her mother alone. There was nothing that he could do about Lucy’s email.

He shook his head as he ran through his options. Then it came to him. Caffeine. Another small smile crossed his features. With swift, purposeful strides, he headed for the elevators, stopping only to tug on his coat.

He headed out into the cold February air. A light snow had begun to fall, and the large, fat flakes gave promise that it would not be lasting too long. Little puffs of steam rose into the air at his every breath. He had to act quickly. He knew that he didn’t have much time before Lois returned to her desk. He judged that he had only ten or fifteen minutes. He’d heard Perry launch into one of his Elvis stories when Lois had entered his office; in this case, the random trivia becoming a saving grace for Clark as it bought him precious time. He began to jog down the sidewalk, heading to one of Lois’ favorite local coffee shops. He sighed in relief when he saw that there were only three people in line, and he swiftly joined the back of it. When he finally reached the counter, he ordered two coffees and a box of donuts. Then he headed back to the newsroom.

He had just reached his desk when Lois came striding back to hers. She looked even more displeased than she had before. In fact, Clark could swear that he saw Jimmy literally jump out of Mad Dog Lane’s warpath. Not to be discouraged, Clark brushed the snow from the shoulders of his coat, then slipped out of the garment and hung it up. He grabbed up the breakfast that he had purchased and brought it to his partner’s desk. She looked up with surprise as he approached.

“You looked in need of a coffee,” he explained as he set down the steaming Styrofoam cup. He held out the box with his other hand. “And donuts.”

That finally brought a tiny smile to Lois’ lips. “More like a dire need. Thanks.”

“Anytime. We can’t have tomorrow’s headline reading ‘Reporter Snaps: Kills Six,’” he teased.

“Watch it, mister. Or you’ll be number one,” Lois said, though Clark could see the laughter dancing in her eyes.

Lois sipped her coffee gratefully. Clark noticed as her eyes slid blissfully shut at the first hot, caffeinated taste. After a minute, she grabbed for the double chocolate glazed donut that Clark had bought specifically for her. She bit into it and sighed a little. Clark felt a surge of pride that he could alleviate some of Lois’ tension and anger.

“Better?” Clark asked, sitting on her desk and munching on his vanilla frosted donut. The icing was a pale shade of pink, in deference to Valentine’s Day. Red and dark pink sprinkles decorated the top of the sugary treat.

“A little,” Lois admitted.

Lois finished her breakfast and frowned again. Someone had put up paper heart decorations during the night. She pulled down the tissue-paper thin, heart-shaped garland that had been draped over the front of her desk. For a moment, she examined it, then promptly wadded it up into a ball and tossed it into her garbage can. Clark was glad that Lois didn’t have heat vision, or there would have been a fire blazing in the garbage pail.

“Ouch,” Clark said, raising an eyebrow. “Talk about a heart-breaker. What did those decorations ever do to you?”

“Nothing. Except that they perpetuate a stupid, meaningless, greeting-card holiday.”

“It’s not meaningless,” Clark said, defending the holiday that was currently under assault. “It’s a time to reflect on love.”

“No,” Lois said, shaking her head. “All it does it lower the self-esteem of single people. I refuse to be a party to that.”

For the first time, Clark noted that Lois was one of only a handful of employees who wasn’t wearing red. Jimmy was in a red sweater. Cat Grant was in a red and pink leather dress that was several inches too short and way too tight. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination, Clark thought with mild disgust. Ralph was bedecked in red from head to toe. Even Perry was wearing a tie with tiny purple hearts. Clark realized that his own ensemble somewhat fell into the color scheme of the holiday — black pants with a white shirt, a maroon jacket and matching tie that had purple and white swirls. Of course, his outfit had been unintentional. He’d simply grabbed the first thing out of his closet before bolting out of his door to get to work on time, after he’d helped out with an early morning bank robbery. But not a shred of red was to be found on Lois. Instead, she was garbed in a black business suit with an icy blue shirt. If Clark had to guess, he would have said that she had purposely avoided any and all shades of red that day.

“That’s not what it’s about,” he argued again. “You don’t have to be with someone to appreciate a day that celebrates love. Love comes in all forms. Like the love between family members.” Lois gave him a hard look. Oops, wrong thing to bring up, he thought. He tried again. “Or between friends.”

“Oh please. Don’t give me that,” Lois said acidly. “Like it doesn’t bother you that you don’t have some girl to wine and dine tonight. Even though every restaurant in the city has jacked up their prices and you would have needed to make reservations at least a month ago. Longer for the really exclusive places.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Clark said, shrugging.

In his heart though, he knew that that was only half true. He didn’t want “some girl” to wine and dine. He wanted Lois. Cupid’s own arrow couldn’t make him be more in love with her than he already was. His heart literally ached for her. But he also knew that it wasn’t yet time to even attempt to go down that path. He and Lois were still, in some ways, learning to be each other’s best friend. He could be patient a little longer, before he approached the frightening prospect of asking her out on a date. He only hoped that when the time did finally come for that, that it didn’t wind up wrecking their friendship. He could not imagine living in a world where he and Lois were not in each other’s lives. He needed her in his life, as much as he needed the sunlight.

“Liar,” Lois snorted.

“Oh, but I suppose you’re going to tell me that it doesn’t bother you to be in the same situation?” Clark asked gently, unwilling to let her get the upper hand in this discussion.

“It doesn’t.”

“So this whole anti-Valentine’s Day thing…”

“…is my disapproval of a holiday that tries to make people feel bad for being single, by choice or otherwise,” Lois finished for him, with a look that told him that the discussion was over.

Clark chuckled and slid off her desk. “You just keep telling yourself that,” he said, as he grabbed a second donut and went back to his desk before she could make a retort.

For the rest of that morning, Clark found it hard to concentrate on his work. It bothered him to see Lois so vehemently against what he considered a harmless holiday. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t understand where she was coming from. It was sometimes hard to see other people in loving relationships when he himself was not. Especially, he thought to himself, when he knew that he’d never truly experienced love in any of the relationships that he’d ever been in. He’d thought that he had, when he had dated Lana in his college days. And breaking up with her had been hard. She’d dumped him right after school had resumed after the Christmas break of their senior year. He’d spent that Valentine’s Day brooding in the Arctic Circle atop a glacier, his face a frozen mass of salty tears. But when the dust had settled, he’d found that part of him had been relieved to not be with her any longer. He knew that he’d never truly loved her, not in a forever kind of way. He’d also realized that he never could have been comfortable with her knowing about his secret.

The instant that he’d met Lois, however, he had known true love at last. He knew that he’d never love another. From that first glance, she’d managed to imprint herself on his heart and mind, never to be erased. In fact, only a month before, Clark had suffered a bout of amnesia after hitting the Nightfall asteroid too hard, too fast, and at the wrong angle. He hadn’t known his own name when he was found in the crater that his body had made when he’d hit the ground. But he had known that he loved Lois. It had been the one beacon of hope that had kept him going and given him hope that he’d find his memory again.

To see Lois so unhappy now was breaking Clark’s heart. He wanted to show her that the holiday didn’t have to be a depressing affair. And despite Lois’ assertions to the contrary, he knew that beneath it all was a deep sadness that she had no one special to celebrate Valentine’s Day with. Why else had she brought up the fact that Lucy had emailed her about her new beau? Clark knew that he had to do something to brighten up the holiday for Lois. And bringing her coffee and donuts wasn’t going to do the trick. Neither would finding a hook for their investigation of missing city funds, though he knew that if he could find something, Lois’ mood would improve considerably. As he stared at the faxes on his desk, but not really seeing them, a seed of an idea took root in his mind.

He immediately dubbed it Operation: Cupid.

At lunch, Clark offered to accompany Lois. Lois jumped at the chance, dreading being alone with her mother, even if only for an hour. It was as bad as Lois had warned Clark that it would be. Ellen Lane spoke almost non-stop. And most of what she had to say was in the form of complaints or criticisms of some type or another. A good portion of the discussion had been an attack on Lois’ status as a single woman. If Lucy could find a boyfriend, why couldn’t Lois? Didn’t Lois realize that in a few short years, she’d be thirty? And had she heard that their old neighbor, Debbie, had had her second child? And she was a lawyer to boot! Did Lois realize that her baby making years were passing her by? If Debbie could juggle work and a family, then why couldn’t Lois? What about Lex Luthor, who had wanted to date her? Didn’t Lois realize that single, rich men were hard to find? Why was Lois being so stubborn? Or did she intend on being just like her father — so focused on her career that she would never have time for anyone besides herself?

Clark could usually find a ray of sunshine in just about any situation, but by the time he offered to pay the bill, even his eternal optimism had suffered a crushing blow. No wonder why Lois always tried to avoid her mother. Clark felt sorry for his friend. He couldn’t imagine growing up in a household like that. An hour was more than enough for him. But Lois had seemed grateful to have him with her, so at least his presence had done something positive. They were both more than thrilled to finally head back to the bullpen after the waitress returned Clark’s credit card.

“Wow,” Clark commented, after they rounded the corner and left Ellen far enough behind. “That was…”

“Brutal,” Lois agreed.

“I wasn’t going to say that…exactly.”

“But you were thinking it.”

Clark had to nod his agreement. In fact, brutal was one of the milder terms that had crossed his mind. A lioness tearing apart a gazelle was kinder and gentler than Ellen had been.

“I’m sorry that you had to witness that,” Lois continued. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For trying to rescue me a few times when Mom went into rant-mode. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome,” Clark said, giving her a friendly smile.

“You know, ever since you arrived in Metropolis, you’ve always been there for me when I’ve needed you,” she mused.

You have no idea, Clark thought wryly. “That’s what friends are for,” he said instead.

They were nearly back to the Daily Planet building when Clark’s hearing picked up a shout for help. He groaned. Lois heard it and spun to face him.

“What?”

“Lois, I almost forgot. There’s something that I need to buy this afternoon. I really ought to go do it before it gets any later.”

“Clark, we have to meet Bobby Bigmouth in an hour,” Lois huffed. “What could be so important that you have to rush off now?”

“Trust me, Lois,” Clark pleaded. “I’ll even pick up Bobby’s food. I promise.”

“You better,” Lois said, her mood darkening slightly.

“Cross my heart,” Clark promised, before dashing off in the opposite direction.

He disappeared down an alleyway and spun into the suit. Less than a heartbeat later, he was flying off towards the source of the distress call. A man was teetering on the edge of a building, swaying drunkenly. Below, a crowd of onlookers stared in horror. Some pointed, some chewed their nails nervously. All were muttering to themselves, the people around them, or yelling up to the man on the ledge. Clark came to a halt and hovered in the air before the man.

“Sssssshhhhuperman!” the man slurred. “Get outta my way. I don’t wanna live.”

“Hey,” Clark said gently. “What’s the matter? Whatever it is, suicide isn’t the answer.”

“You don’t know nothing!” the man said, swatting the air before him as if he could simply knock Superman out of the way.

“Maybe I can help,” Clark prodded, “if you tell me what’s the matter.”

“Lydia left me!” The man’s voice went from sad to angry. “She’s shleeping with my besht friend. I got nothing left to live for. I was gonna propo..prop…prop…ask her to marry me. The unfaithful witch.”

At that, the man burst into tears.

It was far from an isolated occurrence. Over the course of the afternoon, Clark responded to six more attempted suicides. All were people depressed over the holiday and their failed relationships. Two of the people had been so completely drunk that it was a wonder they were still standing. The others had been disturbingly sober. Most had been desperate for a shoulder to cry on. One had actually jumped from the building she was standing on, then made empty threats against Clark when he caught her.

As Clark sifted through the research on his desk late that afternoon, he felt himself getting a little down-hearted. Was Lois right? Was Valentine’s Day just out there to make single people upset? He had to believe that it wasn’t. And he had to believe that his plan to lift Lois’ spirits would work. If he could make her happy, perhaps he’d be able to make himself feel better by extension.

He typed the last sentence of the article that he was working on, detailing how Superman had stopped the armed bank robbery that morning. Then he read over his work, made a few changes, and sent it off to Perry. Discreetly, Clark shot a look over at Lois’ desk. Two candy wrappers lay crumpled on her desk. Various faxes and printouts made a sort of strange looking tablecloth. And Lois was unhappily typing away at her computer, her phone pressed to her ear as she sat waiting on hold. As Clark watched, she took a sip of coffee, winced as she realized it had gone stone cold, and promptly poured the icy drink on the poor African Violet plant that sat half dead on her desk. The plant seemed to wilt right before Clark’s eyes, and one browned leaf broke off and fluttered to join the rest of the chaos on Lois’ desk. If she noticed, she didn’t react.

Clark glanced at his watch. It was nearly six at night. He had to get going if he wanted enough time to put his plan into motion. He stood and stretched, than casually sauntered over to where Lois sat. Her eyes darted up to look questioningly at him.

“Lois,” he started to say.

At that exact moment, the lead that Bobby had given them picked up the phone. Lois waved Clark away with one hand as she launched into an explanation of who she was and why she was calling. Defeated but undeterred, Clark went back to his own desk. He grabbed a pad of paper and wrote a simple note.

Lois — Swing by my place at 7:30? You won’t be disappointed. -Clark

He tore the paper from the pad, folded it, and dropped it onto Lois’ desk. She saw it, but did not read it. She was still talking rapid-fire into the phone, and scribbling notes furiously. She did, however, nod her acknowledgment of the note. Clark nodded back, then checked with Perry that there were no changes to make to his article. With his boss’ approval, Clark headed back to his apartment.

Once there, he rummaged through his refrigerator and cabinets. He had almost everything that he needed. He’d need to make a quick run to the store for one or two items. He was about to head out again when a cry for help reached his ears. With a sigh, he spun into the suit once more, and streaked out of the apartment. For the next half an hour, he helped out at the five car pile-up that he’d been drawn to. Three people were severely hurt, and one young man had been killed. The rest had minor injuries.

Finally, he was able to return home after a quick stop to pick up the things that he needed. Once safely back in his apartment, he didn’t even bother to spin back out of the suit. Instead, he dashed around his kitchen, employing his super speed as he began to prepare dinner. In less than a minute, he’d accomplished all of the prep work and had things simmering on the stove. With another burst of speed, he cleaned up the living room, putting away the books and magazines that had littered the coffee table and recycling the empty soda cans that he’d forgotten to dispose of when a late night emergency had demanded his assistance. He dusted the room for good measure, then moved to the dining room table. In about ten seconds, he’d set the table, uncorked the wine, and set out two tapered candles. He checked on dinner and then headed into the shower when he was satisfied by what he saw.

Seven-thirty came and went. Lois did not come knocking on his door. Clark had long since placed the food on the lowest heat possible to keep it warm without overcooking anything. Seven forty-five came. Clark was just giving up hope that Lois would show up when there was a soft knock on his door. He lowered his glasses and x-rayed through the wood. It was Lois. He breathed a sigh of relief, and his heart did a little flip-flop in his chest. He swung his eyes around and lit the candles on the table with two quick darts of his heat vision. Then he replaced his frames on his face and went to the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Lois apologized as the door opened. “My dad decided to call and I couldn’t get him off the phone.”

“It’s okay,” Clark said, ushering her inside.

“So, what did you find out on the missing funds?” she asked eagerly, allowing Clark to help her out of her coat.

“Nothing yet.”

“Funny, Clark. Your note said…”

“…nothing about any leads,” Clark finished for her.

“You lied?”

“No. I never said anything about our work. You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“You swore that I wouldn’t be disappointed,” Lois pointed out.

“And I hope you won’t be. Take a look around.”

“It does smell wonderful in here,” Lois observed. “What is all of this?”

“This is our very own, private Valentine’s Day dinner.”

“Clark…” Lois’ voice was heavy with warning.

“Like I said this morning, the day doesn’t have to be about romantic love,” Clark quickly clarified. “It can be about celebrating the love that exists between two people who just happen to be best friends. Forget the greeting cards, the overpriced dinners, and the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Tonight, let’s just celebrate us, and the friendship that we’ve built over the last several months.”

Lois’ mouth hung slightly agape. She finally noticed the candles on the dining room table, and the spray of yellow roses that sat in a vase in the center of the table. She looked questioningly at her partner. Clark grinned at her.

“How is this not supposed to be romantic?” Lois asked as she gravitated to the table, somewhat mesmerized. “Roses…candles…a home cooked meal?”

“Ah, but they are yellow roses,” Clark said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“So? I fail to see how that makes any difference.” She was half teasing him now, and he knew it.

“Yellow roses stand for friendship,” he explained, the grin still on his face.

“Is that what you ran off to get this afternoon after lunch?” Lois asked.

Clark nodded. While it hadn’t been his main reason for leaving her, he had picked the flowers up before he’d returned to the Planet.

“Why?” Lois asked. “Why go to all this trouble?”

Even without his super hearing, Clark could hear the emotion in her voice. His gesture had touched her. So far, his plan to make Lois happy seemed to be working. And he was already feeling better in return.

“Because,” he said, turning serious, “I thought that we could both use a pick-me-up tonight. Look, I may not be your dream guy. And I’m not a knight in shining armor, coming to rescue you from atop my white horse. But Lois, you are my best friend, and it breaks my heart to see you get upset. So, I’d like to ask you…would you be my valentine? Is…is that…okay?” He suddenly felt very nervous.

“It’s more than okay,” Lois said, smiling softly. “And I’d love to be your valentine, you sentimental marshmallow.”

“Good,” Clark replied, a thousand watt smile lighting up his face. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” Lois confirmed.

They dined that night on chicken parmesan, glazed baby carrots, and steamed broccoli. Thick garlic bread and a side of penne with fresh marinara sauce added to the meal, making it feel as though they were dining in one of Metropolis’ most exclusive restaurants. They each had two glasses of wine. It was one of the best bottles that Clark had in his modest collection. And they talked, about everything and anything. Though neither of them knew it, they each had the passing thought that this felt very much like a date. Both of them wondered if a date would be as comfortable as this friendly, no-strings-attached dinner that they were sharing together.

When the meal was done, Lois helped Clark to clean up. They laughed as they bumped into one another a few times as they moved about the kitchen. Then they moved to the couch. They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company. Clark turned to Lois.

“Clark, that was an amazing meal,” she said, smiling at him. “You are one heck of a cook.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep this up, and you are going to find yourself cooking every time we have a late night of research ahead of us.”

“You mean instead of ordering takeout every time? Oh, the horrors,” Clark teased her.

“Well, it’s either that or I cook. And you know what? I’m getting too fond of you to kill you with my cooking.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, snorting back a laugh. “So, how about a movie?”

“Just so long as it’s not some sappy romance film,” Lois answered, nodding.

“There wasn’t much left when I hit the video store after work,” Clark said, chuckling and shaking his head. “But I don’t think Star Wars counts as a romantic movie.”

“Perfect,” Lois said.

Clark stood and crossed the room. He inserted the VHS tape into his player and turned on the television. He sank down onto the couch next to Lois as the movie began and the scrolling credits informed them of what was happening in that galaxy far, far away. At some point, and Clark couldn’t be certain when, he found Lois’ head on his shoulder as they watched. He thought that it might have been as early on as when Luke and Obi-Wan entered Mos Eisley Spaceport to hire Han. He relished the sensation of having her so close, and he nervously put his arm around her. When she didn’t pull away, he grew more confident, and even tightened his embrace a little. He heard Lois sigh in contentment, and he did the same. The thought came to him that he’d always enjoyed Star Wars. Now, he had yet another reason to love the movie. Slowly, he moved his head to rest his cheek against the top of Lois’ head. He sighed softly in utter bliss.

Eventually, the movie ended. The good guys won the day and the Death Star was destroyed. The heroes were given medals of honor, blissfully unaware of the challenges that lay ahead in the next two movies. The credits began to roll. Clark turned off the television and VCR with the remote. Lois stirred and moved away from him. He instantly felt colder and mourned the loss of the contact with her. But Lois was smiling at him, if not a bit tiredly. Clark smiled back.

“Care for some dessert?” he asked her, his voice low and soft.

Lois playfully arched one eyebrow. “Depends. What are you offering?”

“Double Chocolate Explosion ice cream.”

“Ooooh. You are a dangerous man, Kent.”

Lois’ eyes sparkled as she teased him. Encouraged, Clark went to the kitchen. He retrieved the tub of ice cream from the freezer and spooned out two bowls. It wasn’t his favorite flavor, but he knew that it was one of Lois’ food weaknesses. He handed her a bowl and a spoon, then dug into his own after plopping back down on the couch next to her. It didn’t take long for them to finish their ice cream. By then, it was getting late. Lois stood from the couch and stretched.

“I should get going,” she said, though a little remorsefully. “It’s late.”

Clark nodded. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I insist.”

“It’s cold out.”

“I don’t mind the cold.” He shook his head for emphasis.

“Well…if you insist and all,” Lois said, suppressing her glee that she’d get another fifteen or twenty minutes with Clark as they walked to her place.

“I do,” Clark grinned.

He helped her into her coat before shrugging into his own. He offered her his arm, and she took it, pressing her body close to his as they walked. Metropolis was quiet this time of night. They saw only one older man out and about as he walked his dog. The weather had turned bitter cold, and it had begun to lightly snow again. By the time they reached Lois’ apartment building, they both had a fine layer of white flakes in their hair and on their jackets. Clark handed Lois the bouquet of yellow roses that he had bought for her.

“Thanks for everything tonight, Clark,” she said, facing him and looking him deep in the eyes. “I really needed that.”

“So did I,” he confessed.

“I had a good time.”

“Me too.”

“Well…goodnight, Clark.”

“Goodnight, Lois. “

Lois closed the distance between them and reached up. Her small hand was cold from the chilly night air, but it set Clark’s skin aflame as it alighted on his face and cupped his cheek. She studied his face for a moment, then stretched up on her toes. Clark held his breath as he waited to see what she would do. She finally closed the last inch that separated them and kissed Clark lightly on the cheek. He smiled at the gesture, his heart soaring in his chest. He knew not to take the kiss for anything more than it was — a friendly peck on the cheek. But his spirits and heart took flight to greater heights than even he could normally attain. It left him breathless, even more so than the times when he’d kissed Lois on the lips. Most had been passionate, yet fake, ruses meant to deceive. And one had been mournful as he had said goodbye to her during the heat wave not two months past. This kiss, though chaste, was born out of true feelings, and that made it incredibly powerful and sexy. It didn’t matter that the true feelings in question were solely those of friendship. He gave her a broad smile and kissed her cheek in return.

“See you tomorrow,” he said at last, hating that he was to be separated from her for the next eight or so hours.

“See you tomorrow,” she echoed. “And this time, Clark, breakfast is on me.”

“Deal,” Clark grinned again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Lois.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Clark.”

THE END

Only In My Dreams

By bakasi <bakasi_dick@hotmail.com>

Rated PG-13

Submitted November 2011

Summary: Lois has finally realized that she is in love with her partner — Clark Kent. Unfortunately, he is giving her the cold shoulder, and Lois has not the slightest idea why. Could Mayson be the one who is responsible for his strange behavior? Maybe going undercover as a married couple to test a hotel will help our favorite couple to resolve their problems.

***

Only in my dreams…

“Lois?” His voice was gentle and affectionate. My heart skipped a beat and then suddenly started pounding madly in my chest. I raised my head. Clark’s lips twitched into a smile, basking the newsroom in light like a sunbeam in dark woods. “Coffee?” He asked softly, holding out a cup for me.

With a sigh I pushed the files on my desk aside. An aromatic scent emanated from the cup he offered me. Graciously I took it. The taste was even better than the smell. Clark cautiously took a sip of his own coffee and sat down on the edge of my desk. Fascinated I watched the play of his muscles underneath his shirt; I saw the strength in his movements. He slowly leaned towards me and reached out to wipe milk foam from my lips that I had not even noticed. Clark’s touch was intense though. A tingling sensation spread through my face as his hand gently cupped my cheek.

“I would like to invite you to dinner,” Clark murmured, his voice sounding deeper than usual. He looked at me in silent admiration. His breathing became faster. With the hand that had just touched me, he started fumbling restlessly with his tie as if he could barely keep himself from touching me again.

“How about tonight?” I asked, excited and at the same time annoyed with myself that I was sounding so eager. But I had been waiting way too long for him to finally work up his courage and ask me out. “You could pick me up at seven.”

Clark nodded and surprise was written all over his face. A thin smile twitched at the corner of his mouth soon turning into a full-blown grin. I loved the way he smiled; it was like the dawn of a new day, a perfect sunrise, warming my heart from within. I could not help but join him in smiling, shy at first but with increasing boldness.

My partner set his coffee cup on my desk and slid along the edge closing in on me. I felt drawn to him. All of a sudden I desperately wanted to get up from my chair. But if I did that, the whole newsroom would see, would know that…

Clark leaned forward. Gently he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and his thumb moved over my cheek until finally his entire hand was resting there. Behind the glasses his eyes seemed even darker. A fine blush colored his cheeks. I saw him swallow as his face came closer. His lips parted slightly, and then he kissed me.

I closed my eyes. There was only his mouth as his tongue gently caressed mine. Tenderly he nibbled at my lower lip, sucking lightly and letting go again. Was it just me, or was it getting hot in here? My cheeks burned, and I hungrily returned his kiss, sealing his lips with my mouth, drowning in their soft tenderness.

Clark was breathing heavily, and his hands tenderly explored my arm. Wherever he touched me, his fingers left my skin aching for more. I started exploring his body. His muscles felt firm under my hands. Clark pulled me closer, hugged me, and began to cover my face with kisses. The touch of his lips was light and warm as the droplets of a summer rain falling on my nose, my eyelashes, and my cheeks. I could feel his breath on my face, felt the tingle that soon covered my whole body …

Gradually last night’s dream faded, leaving me with a distinct feel of loss. Instead loud voices from the editor’s office brought me back into the reality of the newsroom. Perry’s voice was calm, dangerously calm. I had not heard his exact words, but everybody in the whole newsroom could discern the warning tone in his voice.

“No way, Chief!” the reply was loud enough for everyone to hear. I was not the only one wincing at that.

Every reporter in the newsroom stared at the door of Perry’s office. Self-consciously I put down my right hand that up until now had rested on my chest. I quickly looked around, but apparently no one had even noticed what I had been doing. I was not the least bit surprised. My partner had made certain that I was not the center of interest.

Everyone sat on the edge of their seats, surprised at this exceptional outburst in Perry’s office, everyone but me. I sighed, and with growing anger I tried to force my concentration back on my work. When had we stopped being friends? And why did he have to spell it out for the whole newsroom to hear? I would rather die than admit openly that this was eating at me. So I kept pretending that I was not even listening. And if I did my very best to ignore him — then maybe, eventually I would get over him. If only I stopped having those dreams…

Come on, girl, get a grip, I thought desperately, trying to forget about the heated argument in Perry’s office.

“This is not an offer, it’s an assignment,” Perry shot back testily. I did not believe that they had planned for everyone to witness their fight. But Clark had forgotten to close the door properly. “I need you, both of you! Would you please remember that you’re professional reporters and do your job?”

“It’s not that simple,” my partner said angrily. “Perry, I …” Clark, who had been sitting in front of Perry’s desk, now jumped up and started pacing. He ran his hand through his hair like he always did when he felt uncomfortable with something. Then he raised his hands as if to make another comment. Perry did not let him.

“I asked you to go undercover as a married couple and test a hotel that specializes in marriage counseling. Why would this not be easy?” Perry said through clenched teeth. It was obvious that, in his book, the discussion had come to its overdue end.

“Perry, please …” Clark tried again, but he did not stand a chance.

“Clark, what’s the matter with you?” Perry asked but did not leave Clark the time to answer his question. “If it was Lois protesting, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Perry went on. “I really thought that you both are mature enough to keep your private problems from interfering with your job. But what really annoys me is that you obviously think my decisions are open for debate. There’s no one who could do this job better than the two of you,” Perry pointed out, and then his voice became quiet. “And if anyone here is in need of partner counseling, it’s you. I don’t want to know what happened,” he said as Clark again raised his hand to make another attempt at explaining. “You guys have an assignment. Period!” He turned on his heel. “Great Shades of Elvis!” he mumbled and fell silent.

With a loud thud the door to Perry’s office slammed into the wall as he opened it. Perry looked confused as he realized that it had been open all along. Then his gaze fell on me. He was probably trying to figure out whether Clark’s visit had been my idea or his own. What he saw in my eyes seemed to confuse him even more. Without making a comment about the fact that no one was working anymore, Perry went back to his office and pushed the door shut.

His head hunched between his shoulders, Clark strolled back to his desk. He did not even look at me. But that was to be expected. He kept ignoring me for no good reason. It made me furious, and it hurt like hell. Blinking away the tears in my eyes, I was tempted to just run and hide. I could not go on like this any longer, but I had to. With sheer will, I forced myself to look at the screen again. The words of the article changed from clear to blurry as more tears filled my eyes.

In this very moment I wanted nothing more than for someone to make a mistake, so I could yell at him. But nobody did. On the contrary, they all seemed to avoid me. Pete of the sports department took a detour to get his coffee instead of walking past my desk. Jimmy rarely came to tell me about his research. And right now he was talking to a strange man with a bowler hat at the other end of the newsroom.

Never in my life had I felt so lonely while working at the Planet. Where was my best friend? Where was my partner who had been there for me whenever I needed him? Secretly I watched him as he sat at his desk grumpily typing something into his computer. He was probably working on one of those smaller articles he no longer told me about. Not that it was important for me to know about each mood piece he was writing. But I missed talking to him. I deeply regretted ever calling him Mr. Green Jeans. I wanted to apologize for whatever I might have done wrong to deserve being treated like this. But there was nothing I could think of.

Clark had not been working for long when he suddenly looked up and stared into space. Then he jumped up and hurried over to me.

“I need to go, Lois. Be right back,” he said, and my heart clenched in my chest when I realized that I even missed his bad excuses.

***

When Clark returned, the newsroom was back to its usual daily routine. He adjusted his tie, then his glasses and went over to his desk. Midway he paused and looked around indecisively. It took him a moment to work up his courage; then he turned and came towards me. A kaleidoscope of different emotions displayed on his face. I could see fear in his eyes, a bad conscience, and regret.

“Lois,” he started, looking depressed. His eyes locked with mine just long enough to find out if he had my attention. Then he averted his gaze. Ever so briefly he checked on me again, but mostly he stared into space.

I did not hurry to look up from my work. My fingers typed mechanically. Most of it was certainly nonsense, but I chose to ignore him deliberately. I could not let him win. He had already more influence on me than I should have ever allowed him to get. Although I had every reason to be angry with Clark, although I really wanted to forget him, I could not.

“Lois,” Clark said a little louder and more determinate. “I … I’m sorry,” he muttered ruefully. I decided that now was the time to finally look at him instead of secretly sneaking a peek. His face was pale, and his lips had become a thin line.

“What are you sorry for, Clark?” I asked angrily, trying to convey how much he had hurt me. “That you went to Perry, or that I had to listen?” Clark flinched at the tone of my voice. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he kept silent.

I had no intention of letting him get away just like that. “What’s going on, Clark? Are you afraid that Mayson is going to be jealous? It’s just a job, you know? I will not try to seduce you!” I sneered angrily.

I hated that Mayson was his girlfriend. I hated his reserved attitude towards me, and most of all I hated that my heart beat faster as soon as I saw him.

Clark hesitated for a moment and suddenly looked very sad. “I’m sorry about the things I said to Perry. I didn’t mean to implicate that spending time with you was something bad,” he replied softly and chose to ignore my rude remark concerning Mayson. “Because it’s not. Anything but that.” His gaze drifted over my wrinkled brows. “I … It hasn’t been easy for me lately,” he added mysteriously, tensed and fell silent again.

“She has you wrapped around her little finger; do you realize that, Clark?” Furiously I jumped up from my chair, hurling the words into his face. “Barely two weeks ago, you didn’t run at the mere thought of watching a movie with me. Now you’re acting as if I’m sick with the plague,” I accused him. Sometimes I wondered if Mayson really was the only reason for Clark’s strange behavior. Anyway, ever since he got to know her, he had kept his distance from me.

Clark’s eyes widened in horror. “Lois, I …” he began hesitantly but soon stopped, swallowing whatever he had meant to say. For a moment he looked at me with puppy dog eyes pleading for help. But upon regaining his composure, his words sounded a lot calmer. “This has nothing to do with you, Lois. I’m sorry if you got that impression.” His voice was monotone, almost as if he had kept rehearsing this. He swallowed hard before he continued. “What would you think if we were having a relationship, and I went to a marriage counseling session with another woman?” he asked quietly.

“This is not going to be a date, Clark. We are working on a story. And although we might not be a couple, we are partners. Do I really need to remind you?” I said coldly, deliberately ignoring his question.

I could not stand the thought that I was supposed to care about Mayson’s feelings. Clark’s observation was probably justified. If our places were reversed, I would like this kind of assignment no more than she did. Still I felt that Clark was not entirely sincere about his objections. Something was wrong, though I could not put my finger on what.

“Clark,” a high-pitched angel-like voice chirped, choosing the worst of all possible moments.

Mayson Drake had her own warning system that went off whenever I was having a serious conversation with Clark. She interrupted us each and every time. Her face beamed with joy as she waved her hand greeting us — or more likely — just Clark. Usually she barely looked at me, muttering something under her breath that could be mistaken for a ‘Hello’. Her eyes remained fixed on Clark, glued to him forever. She had changed since our first meeting. Her eyes were gleaming with joy, her cheeks had adopted an adorable blush, and she exuded an aura of pure bliss. I got stomach cramps every time I realized that Clark had caused this change. In her, not in me. Mayson Drake was more beautiful than ever, blonde, slim, popular, and very much in love with Clark. I hated her.

“Mayson,” Clark greeted his girlfriend in a strangely flat voice.

Looking up, he saw her, and a smile crept onto his face as his shoulders relaxed. Even so, the muscles of his jaw tensed, and his hands were clenched into fists. He was either not too happy to see her, or I was hallucinating. But his tension dissolved after mere seconds. His fists loosened, and Clark closed the distance to the assistant district attorney.

“Nice to see you,” he said gently and then lowered his voice. “I wasn’t expecting you today. Didn’t you say that you needed to work on an important case?”

Mayson smiled at him sweetly, wagging her index finger. “Don’t you wanna kiss me?” She pouted, probably thinking that it looked tempting. Getting as far away from them as I could seemed the reasonable thing to do. But they were cooing right next to my desk.

“Of course,” Clark replied, and I imagined that he did it without any particular enthusiasm.

He leaned in and whispered a kiss onto her mouth. She closed her eyes in anticipation of something more than the brief peck. When the kiss did not turn into a more intimate one, she blinked, sticking out her bottom lip with disappointment. Clark’s behavior confused me too. I had witnessed much more intimate encounters between the two of them. But as opposed to Mayson, I was relieved that Clark had not tortured me any more than that.

“I was around and thought that it would be nice to drop by and say hello,” Mayson explained, winking conspiratorially. “See you tonight?” she cooed in her own version of the famous Cat Grant style. Mayson leaned against Clark and possessively laid her hand on his chest. The look in her eyes was telling — she was much worse than Cat had ever been.

“Um … Mayson, about tonight …” Clark’s words were swallowed by a hungry kiss. An eternity passed before he gently pushed her away. Or so it seemed to me. “Mayson, please …” he whispered in a soft moan. “Not here … I need to talk to you tonight.”

Who knew what Mayson was dreaming about? Perhaps she thought that Clark would pop the question? My heart suddenly skipped a beat. What if he did? What if he actually did propose to Mayson this evening? I suddenly felt ill, my stomach tightened, and blood roared in my ears. I wanted to ignore them and pretend that I did not care. But hard as I tried, I could not look away.

“I must get back to work now. Perry has been pretty grumpy lately,” Clark told her, not even flinching at his blatant lie. If anyone had been grumpy, it was Clark. But his lying to Mayson made me feel a little better. At least I was not the only one to whom he did not tell the truth.

“Oh …” Mayson said disappointed and once more twitched her lips into a pout. “I thought maybe we’d go out for lunch.”

“I’m sorry, Mayson, but I’ve got a lot of work to do. Lois and I need to meet a source, and then … I’ll see you tonight, I promise,” he added consolingly and briefly kissed her on the cheek. Mayson savored every moment of it, making me want to slap her.

“See you tonight, Clark,” Mayson replied, withdrawing reluctantly. Finally she waved goodbye and walked away, her hips swaying.

Clark slumped against my desk as soon as she had left the newsroom. “God,” he muttered with a groan.

Much to my surprise, I practically saw him shrink. His head hung, making him the most pitiful sight imaginable. I had just opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, when he got up again, straightening his shoulders.

“I’ve got to go, Lois,” he announced hastily and did what he always did when things got serious. He disappeared.

Confused, I watched him leave. When someone cleared his throat right next to me, I flinched. My heart pounded madly as I turned around and saw a black bowler hat, worn by a man who was dressed in a very old-fashioned way. Blue eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses looked back at me.

“Excuse me, Miss …” he said guiltily. “I had no intention of scaring you.” A smile spread across his face. “My name is Wells, and I would like to talk to Mr. Kent.”

“You’re not the only one,” I muttered depressed, and then I turned to the stranger who was staring at me puzzled. “Excuse me, Mr. Wells. My partner has just left the newsroom, and I have not the slightest idea how long he will be gone. Would you like to leave a message?”

***

Hours later …

The phone rang, waking me mercilessly. But it had to ring a second and a third time before I realized that this was the call I had been waiting for, so long that I had finally fallen asleep. I reached out to pick up but stopped a few inches short of taking the phone. My hand remained dangling above the receiver. Now that I could, I was not so sure that I really wanted to talk to my sister. It rang a fourth and a fifth time, then I finally picked up the phone. Lucy did not deserve to be ignored, not after I had stirred up so much trouble.

I answered the phone, my voice unsteady, “Lois Lane.”

It actually was my sister, like I had already suspected. She was a real Lane, speaking so fast that I understood only half of her words, if that much. I learned that she had hurried to get back home because Mom had called her at work and told her about my distress. That and my hesitation at taking her call had my sister worried.

“I’m sorry, Luce,” I replied, somewhat sheepishly, not really knowing how to apologize for my stupid behavior. “I was in the shower. And I called Mom because I didn’t know your new phone number. She couldn’t remember it right away, so she promised to pass on the message…”

“What’s so important, Sis?” Lucy interrupted me. No doubt she was not buying my explanation. Her tone of voice demanded answers.

“Important? It’s not really important.” I bit my tongue. Suddenly I wanted to hang up rather than talk to Lucy. Why was it so difficult to pour out my grief? I was talking utter nonsense. Of course it was important, else…

“Of course it’s important, Lois. Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me. You never call if it’s not important,” Lucy concluded my sentence.

It was true. I kept telling people that my relationship with my sister was disastrous. But she really knew me well — better than my parents. Other than Clark, she was probably the only person who had ever seen me vulnerable. And yet we seldom spoke to each other. I was ashamed that I bothered her with my problems now, when I had ignored her the rest of the time. But there was really no one else I could talk to.

“It’s about Clark …,” I said, and my throat seemed to swell shut with the mere mentioning of him.

“That handsome friend of yours?” Lucy was becoming curious. “What about him? Has he finally worked up the courage to ask you out, and now you’re having second thoughts?”

“Mmhh, something of that sort,” I muttered. She was not even close. If he had asked me out on a date, I would not need this sort of conversation. I should finally get around to telling her the truth. “This whole Lex debacle is still nagging at me,” I said slowly, taking a deep breath. “Clark told me that it’s about time for me to start dating again.”

That was not entirely true. Clark encouraging me to date again — that had happened weeks ago. Now, he hardly talked to me at all. And it was getting worse. My final assignment for this evening had been an interview with a local politician. When I came back to the newsroom, I had found a note on my desk.

I’ll pick you up at noon, tomorrow. See you, Clark.

Although we had spent hours together meeting a source, he had waited until after my interview to put a note onto my desk. How could we go on an undercover assignment if Clark was not even able to talk to me? Each and every morning, I came to work, my heart pounding with fear. Someday soon Perry would call me into his office telling me that Clark had called off our partnership and had disappeared once and for all. This mere thought made me sad and angry and desperate. It killed me that Clark did not tell me why he was being so cold. Why could we not talk about our problems like adults? Why did he choose to hide?

As soon as I talked about going out again, I could almost see Lucy nod at the other end of the line. She had suggested the same thing and not just once. I heard her breathing. Presumably, she wondered whether she should approve or exercise caution in order not to drive me up the wall. I had not been very keen on dating to put it lightly.

“That’s great, Lois. So what’s the problem?” Lucy asked enthusiastically. She had apparently decided to encourage me.

“I uh … I …” I could not say it. Even now, the realization was too shocking to put into words. “I would like for Clark to be my date,” I said softly. There — I had spilled it. My breathing came in ragged gasps as if I had been running a marathon.

“I knew it …” Lucy cheered. “Lois, I always knew that someday you would finally realize that you’re partnered with a great man. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve found each other. Congratulations, Sis!” I could almost hear her jumping up giddily. The jubilation was unfortunately a little premature — not to mention utterly misplaced.

“Clark hates me, Lucy,” I summed up the crux of the matter, my voice hoarse. “He is a good partner, he is working with me, but he hates me.” I could not help thinking that he had ceased being a good partner, too. However, I did not voice my thoughts. Instead, I got up from the bed, restlessly pacing my bedroom.

The line went silent for a moment, and I swallowed with my confession. It had taken me pretty long to become aware of this simple fact. The formality Clark treated me with was almost unbearable. We worked together, yes, but we spoke only when necessary. In other words we talked about work exclusively. Clark had not invited me to his place for weeks. He shut me out of his life. And he barely even looked at me anymore.

I remembered our last time playing a honeymoon couple. Now there was a snowball’s chance in hell that this was going to be even half as much fun as we had once had. Looking back on those first few months of our partnership, I deeply regretted being so stubborn. Why had I ignored how much comfort I found in his presence? Had there really ever been a mutual, though covert, attraction that I now only vaguely remembered? Thinking about the way things had once been was slowly killing me

“He doesn’t hate you, Lois. Why would he?” my sister disagreed soothingly.

“I don’t know,” I said defensively, “It’s just the way it is. When I last asked him if he minded me coming to join him for a video, he just told me that I should start dating someone,” I almost sobbed. “He wants to get rid of me.”

“I’m sure he just meant to help you — I thought you were best friends,” Lucy said encouragingly. Her words were not helping much. Maybe he had meant to help me, but not because he was my friend.

“I thought so, too.” I sighed and sat down on my bed again, only to rise a split second later. “After this whole Luthor fiasco, Clark was so kind and caring. But then he eventually began to retreat. “

Restlessly I resumed pacing my bedroom, as if it would help me describing my feelings more clearly. But I would need more than a single call to tell Lucy about everything that had happened between Clark and me during the last couple of months. After all, I had to get up early tomorrow and Lucy as well. By the time I had made up my mind about what I wanted to say, I had ended up in the living room. With another sigh I sank down onto my very uncomfortable sofa.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I continued. “When we first met, I thought he had a thing for me. Especially when he tried to talk me out of dating Lex Luthor. But finally I realized that he wasn’t jealous. He just knew that Lex Luthor was the criminal mastermind of Metropolis.” I sighed again.

When Clark had dragged me out of the LNN building and into Centennial Park, I had actually thought that he was about to declare his love for me. The way he had looked at me, caring and concerned, with those gentle brown eyes — that moment had been kind of magical. But at the time I had not realized he was the man with whom I wanted to spend my life. Clark was like a big brother, a loyal friend, but not my lover. My mind had already been forming a rejection that I had hoped would not crush him But then things had turned out very differently.

Clark had looked down, and suddenly the magic had been gone, disrupted as he had cleared his throat. When he had looked back at me, the loving expression in his eyes had vanished. It had been as if he had remembered something unpleasant, something that had destroyed every spark of hope.

“Lex Luthor is not a good person, Lois,” Clark had said soberly, almost emotionless. Nothing in his voice had reminded me of the jealousy I had noticed a few days before. “Superman told me that he’s involved in almost every crime here in Metropolis. You may not believe me, Lois, but Superman has seen it. I beg you not to marry Luthor, Lois. Wait until I can get evidence. You would deeply regret a marriage with him.”

In hindsight I was glad that he had not let me reject him. It was bad enough that I had refused listening to him. If he really had made a declaration of love, then he would probably hate me even more.

“Maybe he’s too shy to suggest a date. Or he thinks that you still need your time to get over Lex,” Lucy tried to soothe me. “I think you should just ask him out, Lois.”

“Maybe you’re right, Luce,” I said slowly, though I knew she was wrong. However much I wanted to tell her everything, I was not sure whether she would truly understand it. “Maybe I should ask him. But he’s been seeing another woman and tonight … tonight …” my voice broke. The mere thought made me swallow hard. Until this point I had been able to keep the images off my mind, but now they were flooding me. Mayson and Clark in an intimate embrace, Mayson as she kissed Clark, Mayson … “Lucy, he’s sleeping with her,” I cried involuntarily and heard myself sobbing loudly. Was I actually weeping? “He … Clark sleeps with her instead of me. Not even when we were under the influence of the pheromones … he never tried …” I stammered tediously and completely incoherently.

“Oh my, you got it bad,” Lucy murmured stunned. “Lois …” she added hesitantly, probably wondering if I was ready to make an exception on the “never destroy someone else’s relationship”-rule. Given my deep affection for Clark’s sweetheart, my conscience would hardly cause me sleepless nights. The breaking of his relationship would be no disaster but a liberation. On the other hand I was not sure that I really stood a chance. “… Don’t forget: it isn’t over until you give up.” I might have told her that a couple of times and to hear it was comforting.

“Thank you, Luce,” I said softly. “You’ve helped me a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I’m always there for you, Lois. Call me at any time you want to talk,” my sister replied. I wondered how I could have ever called her names. Sometimes she was closer to me than anyone else in this world. “I would like to keep talking to you, but I have to go. Is that okay?” Lucy asked cautiously.

“Yes, of course,” I replied immediately, both sad and relieved that the conversation was over. I did not know exactly what I had hoped to gain from talking to Lucy. It was not as if she could offer a solution to my problems. But she had given me some comfort, and that was actually more than I expected given the circumstances. “Thank you for calling, Luce. Take care.”

“Keep me posted, Lois,” my sister made me promise. Then she told me her new phone number before we finally ended our conversation.

I stared at the phone in my hand none the wiser. But at least it was not just my imagination telling me that Clark had once had feelings for me. If only he still did, I thought wistfully, before I hung up as well. For what seemed like an eternity, I paced my apartment until I finally got into bed for some much needed rest. I stared blankly at the ceiling and tried to sleep. Ages went by before I eventually drifted off.

The bed buckled under Clark’s weight as he sat down next to me. Heat spread through my arm as he whispered a kiss onto my bare skin. Gentle strokes of his hand brushed my side while he slowly kissed his way across my arm. A soft whiff of his breath tickled against the crook of my neck. Clark knew I loved this feeling, and he took his time, increasing the pleasure. I indulged in the gentle sucking of his mouth. The feeling was electrifying, and my fingers tingled with desire to explore his body just as thoroughly. I wanted to hug him, wanted to feel his warmth and the weight of his body on mine. He did not let me though but unwaveringly sought his way to my lips.

“Lois,” he murmured against my mouth.

His lips parted and gently touched mine. He paused for a moment teasing me with the play of his tender tongue. Every contact was promising but way too brief to assuage my growing desire. His hands began to caress my skin so tenderly that it was almost tickling. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer, felt his body on mine. Clark’s kiss was getting more and more intense, hungry. His tongue explored my mouth, dancing with mine as they met.

Slowly my hands moved over his shoulders. I felt the play of his firm muscles beneath his shirt. I easily found my way under the fabric to touch his warm, soft skin. Clark broke the kiss and let me strip the shirt off his shoulders until his chest was completely revealed. For a moment I stared at his body in mere admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, brushing a strand of my hair out of my face. “So beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

I enjoyed the way he looked at me. He smiled at me lovingly, as his eyes rested on me. I wanted to drown in those eyes. Their dark brown caught me, fascinated me, making me virtually breathless. Where his hand had touched my face, my skin tingled. I wanted to feel more of him, more than just this light touch.

“Clark,” I said eagerly and stretched out my hand.

My fingers slid over his lips, and he started nibbling at them. A smile spread across his face. With one hand he pulled the strap of my nightgown from my shoulders and started kissing me there. Slowly his lips traveled down my chest. I sighed contentedly and felt a pleasant tingle spread across my whole skin. Every inch of me seemed more sensitive than usual. I savored every single touch, and nothing else mattered.

“Lois,” Clark whispered in a hoarse voice that was almost an octave deeper than usual. “I love you …” Even though his breath came in ragged gasps, his words sounded like a solemn promise. He looked deeply into my eyes, paused for a moment, his eyes almost begging me to believe him. “… so much.”

I nodded and smiled happily. “I know.”

“No, no, you don’t,” he said breathlessly. His eyes darkened, or was it the just the twilight of my apartment? “You don’t,” he repeated, and pain crept into his voice.

His kisses became desperate, his tongue demanding. I felt his fingers sliding over my body, warm and loving but not quite as patient as before.

Suddenly Clark was gone, and I found myself alone in bed.

Awakening from sleep, I had to accept that none of this had happened. I was still alone. My ragged breath and the burning, unfulfilled desire were very real, though. Resigned I sank back down onto the pillows. That was not the first dream of this kind, and I had the distinct feeling that it would not remain the last one. As much as I liked the content of my fantasies, they would remain unfulfilled. And I had to count myself lucky tonight. Sometimes these led Clark and me much further until waking up to the cruel reality of our relationship became unbearable.

A glance at my alarm clock told me that dawn was not going to be anytime soon. I got up restless because I knew from experience that it was difficult falling asleep after one of these dreams. Mostly it helped to distract myself for a while. After a quick look at my TV, I opted for the kitchen. Maybe it was not the best idea, but chocolate ice cream was still the only true cure for heartache.

While I took my robe off the hook, I wondered when these special kind of erotic fantasies had begun. I could not think of a particular date though. It was more like a period when friendly affection had turned into detachment, to finally become aversion, on Clark’s side anyway. For me things had unfortunately been just the other way round — which had put me right in the middle of my own personal hell.

With shoulders slumped, I crept to the refrigerator. When I opened it, I remembered that I had already used up the last chocolate chip ice cream in the previous night. I cursed, first under my breath and then loud enough for all my neighbors to hear.

“Bloody hell. How am I supposed to get on like this?” I wrestled with my destiny. Another dream like this, Clark in the same hotel room and no chocolate chip ice cream in sight — I was bound to lose my mind. If that had not already happened, that was. “Lois Lane, you have to forget about that partner of yours!” I tried to encourage myself. Unfortunately that was easier said than done.

***

Anxiously I watched the big hand of my clock that relentlessly moved towards twelve. It seemed like ages ago that Clark had warned me not to try anything funny when we had shared the honeymoon suite at the Lexor. I missed his good-natured teasing. For weeks now he had barely even smiled, or if he did, it was at Mayson Drake. His unnerving brotherly way of treating me had turned into the even more annoying professional relationship that we now shared. I straightened my shoulders and tried to prepare myself for whatever this weekend would have in store for me. Mad Dog Lane would not waver. I had to forget how I felt for my partner, though… or just because he lately chose to ignore me.

But my brave face fell the moment Clark knocked at my door. A quick glance into the mirror confirmed what a sorry picture of misery I was. The last night — and especially the dream — had taken their toll. I would have liked to smash the mirror into millions of pieces for showing me something like this.

“Lois, are you ready?” Clark asked, his voice muffled by the door. He sounded impatient, as if he would prefer being anywhere but in front of my apartment.

“Yes,” I replied, hoping my voice did not tremble.

I glanced at the packed travel bag that looked back at me menacingly, reminding me of the impending departure. Presumably, even the prospect of a Pulitzer would not have made this step any easier. Not that there was any chance of getting an award for the story we were supposed to write. Perry had every intention of making his “hottest team in town” work again no matter what. There was no arguing about that, try as I might. And honestly, however insane that was, I really hoped that Perry’s plan would work out. I wanted to know what it was about Mayson that Clark liked and why he suddenly hated me so much.

Before gathering my bag, I took another deep breath, squared my shoulders, and went to the door. It was like I was walking to the scaffold. I knew that I was being hysterical. It was Clark out there, my partner, my best friend. That could not have changed completely or had it?

When I stood in front of him, I realized that this was indeed becoming a nightmare, a torturous one at that. My partner wore tight black jeans that perfectly accentuated his hips. A black shirt stretched over his chest muscles. He had left a few buttons open revealing his olive tanned skin. Every inch of him was like I had imagined in my dreams. My mouth went dry, and I knew that I would talk nonsense should I try to say something.

“Hello, Lois,” Clark greeted me and even managed a wry smile.

Although it was nothing like the thousand-watt smiles I had come to love so dearly, even this small gesture made my heart beat loudly in my chest. Inwardly I cursed myself that my heart suspected reason for hope where there was none.

“You look great,” Clark continued, sounding so polite that I wondered whether he had practiced those words.. “I’ll take the heavy bag,” he offered and did not wait for me to protest. For no more than a split second, he actually crossed the threshold to my apartment. Then he turned around with the luggage in his hand and walked down the stairs.

I locked the door behind me and followed him. My heart pounded, and my stomach churned at the thought of the many hours and probably even days that lay ahead. Clark would certainly torture me with hours of sweet talk with Mayson, while I would irrevocably become a nutcase. Why had I not been the one complaining about Perry’s assignment? I vaguely remembered that Mad Dog Lane would have handled things very differently. But that was before I broke my own vow never to fall in love with the wrong man again. The real problem was that I was not likely to get to breaking rule number three. Sharing a room would undoubtedly be the first step on a painful way to lunacy.

***

The journey passed in silence. It was just like I had expected. Still I was disappointed. Clark’s gaze remained so focused on the road ahead, as if it was he driving the car instead of me. I glanced at him now and again trying to fathom what had changed between us. Why was it that Clark could not stand having an innocuous conversation with me? And why did I not just ask him for his reasons? But my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and every word that came to my mind seemed far too reproachful to help me get my old Clark back.

The further we got away from the city, the emptier the streets became. The silence was unbearable. Frequently my glance returned to my partner who had begun staring out of the side window. I saw no more of him than a reflection in the windshield. He looked miserable. Did he already miss Mayson? His lips had grown tight, and his expression grim. When he finally looked at me, it seemed as if he was about to say something, but he did not. Right after the incident, his eyes darted away quickly back to the window, and the silence went into an exhausting next round.

The highway stretched endlessly ahead of us. Only a few curves interrupted the monotonous journey that was miles away from getting us to a Pulitzer. Now and again we saw other cars. Each of them rushed to escape the wasteland for which we were heading. Even the sun was hiding. Nothing about the endless grey sky indicated that time was actually passing.

“Lois…” Clark finally said, his voice hoarse. He relapsed into silence, waiting for my reaction. I generously looked back at him. “… it’s not about you. I want you to know that,” he continued softly, really looking at me for perhaps the first time this day. “It’s not your fault that I’m…” he hesitated and did not seem to find the right words.

“…that you are behaving so childishly, Clark?” I helped him out, glaring at him furiously.

He opened his mouth in protest but thought better of it and nodded. “You’re absolutely right; I have been acting childish,” he sighed. “I know that, and I’m sorry, so terribly sorry, Lois. But somehow we have to get along over the next few days to write this story…” His voice grew softer. “And then I’ll hand in my resignation.”

“What?” I exclaimed in horror and wondered how I managed not to steer the car into a ditch. But maybe it was just because we drove on a completely straight road with no ditches in sight.

“I’ve said that I’ll hand in my resignation,” Clark muttered under his breath, resuming his stare out of the window. I could not discern the look on his face, not from his reflection anyway. He seemed sad.

“That was what I thought I heard,” I said in a mix of pure horror and utter confusion. “Why, Clark? Why do you want to do this?” There was so much more I wanted to ask him. Had Mayson asked him to quit? “Why, if it this is not about me?” I managed to whisper. My voice was brittle, and I felt hot tears burn in my eyes. I had a hard time restraining them. The road went blurry before my eyes, but I would not give in.

Clark said nothing, obstinately staring out the window. My heart resounded in my ears, booming in the unbearable silence that reigned in my car. Once again he chose to ignore me rather than tell me what was wrong. I would have liked to yell at him, to put him at the receiving end of my anger. But I knew that I would not be able to keep from crying if I spilled out my heart. And Clark was not worth crying over — no way.

“Because I realize that I’m hurting you, Lois. And I hate to do that. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do, you have to believe me,” Clark eventually replied. His voice was calm and quiet.

He looked at me with sad eyes. I could not hold his gaze. A huge lump built up in my throat bringing me even closer to bursting into tears than I had already been. I drew a deep breath trying to control my feelings. I did not really understand what he was trying to tell me. However, his words pained me, disappointed me, and enraged me to the point of madness. If Clark did not hate me, then what else could it be?

“Clark, what’s the matter with you?” I breathed desperately, my eyes begging for an answer.

The signpost on the roadside offered Clark a welcome excuse to escape the topic. He immediately began to point out that I had to turn, obviously worried that I might miss the exit. But he could not deceive me. However, my question went unanswered, and I wondered if he was ever going to tell me.

***

“Welcome to the Echo Lodge Hotel,” the bellboy said with a grin.

He stepped aside so we could admire the spacious, comfortable suite we were going to share for the next couple of days. It was far less corny than the honeymoon suite at the Lexor Hotel. That did not mean it was not romantic. The room was bright and inviting. On the wide front window the curtains were drawn aside, revealing the view of a beautiful lake. I had not known that a romantic landscape like this was anywhere near Metropolis. But given my rather strained relationship with Clark, I was not so sure I would be able to fully enjoy it.

Since we entered the hotel, we had always had company. Automatically we had assumed our roles. Clark had grabbed our luggage, laying his free arm around me protectively. My back still tingled from his touch. Inwardly I cursed myself that I felt that way for my partner. If I had never fallen in love with him, everything would be so much easier to bear now.

The bellboy harrumphed, as Clark was about to go into the room. My partner stopped and looked at him curiously. The poor boy blushed with embarrassment, clearing his throat all over again.

“It’s a part of our program that the husband carries his wife over the threshold,” he said hoarsely. “We … uh, we try to create a honeymoon atmosphere and bring a new perspective into the relationship.” The bellboy hardly looked at us, obviously thinking this was a rather silly idea.

Clark’s curiosity was replaced by a horrified expression. He managed just in time to keep his bearings before the bellboy noticed the change. Outwardly Clark started smiling his thousand-watt smile. It did not reach his eyes though. The look that was hidden behind his glasses was dangerous. I had only once seen a similar expression on his face — when I had stolen his story.

“That sounds nice,” Clark replied strained. The bellhop grinned with relief, winking at Clark, who had realized that there was no way of escaping this situation. If he did not want to make a fool of himself, he had to carry me into that room.

With a forced smile Clark approached me. I felt his left hand on my back and his right under my knees. Before I really knew what was happening, he held me in his strong arms. For a moment he looked at me with an expression I could not quite interpret. It seemed like a mixture of agony and — regret? I could not think of a better word. Again I discovered a deep sadness in his eyes and would have liked to ask him what was going on. But this was not the time for questions. Clark gracefully carried me over the threshold and carefully set me back on my feet. The boyish grin that used to play around his lips on occasions like this was not there.

However, we managed to satisfy the bellboy. Both our smiles were forced. I desperately tried to ignore what Clark’s hands had done to me. My knees were soft like Jell-O, and my heart was pounding. I was angry at myself for secretly wishing that a maid with a handful of towels would storm into the suite. I thought of how Clark had thrown me onto the bed of the honeymoon suite at the Lexor Hotel. I remembered feeling his body, warm and heavy, covering mine. It was strange, but I had felt safe in his arms. Looking back at it, every moment of that day was like an exciting game that we were never going to repeat.

I secretly eyed Clark, looked at his soft lips and dreamed of kissing him. I could not explain why I was doing that. Why could I not continue to regard him as a good friend? But my palms were sweaty, and I pressed them firmly against my body to keep me from reaching for his hand.

“Enjoy your stay,” the bellboy said and stuck a bill into his pocket that Clark had to have given him. “Our program starts with dinner tonight. Mrs. Arnold will come by to tell you everything about your stay here. Until then you can explore the hotel, try our spa and fitness rooms, whatever you want.”

Seconds later the wide door slammed shut, and no one saved us from being on our own. There was just Clark and me and this apparently unbridgeable gap between us.

“I’ll take the couch,” Clark said after a while of watching each other in silence. It was another cold shower that finally woke me from the daydreams I had briefly fallen into.

“It’s a big bed. We could share…” I volunteered, almost sounding like Cat Grant on the hunt — alluring but also pretty needy. My voice broke with shame. Did I seriously believe he would accept the offer?

“Looooiiiiis,” Clark said slowly.

It surprised me how incredibly depressed he looked. I had anticipated his rejection but not this. For a moment he was rendered speechless while I looked at him, begging for an explanation. I was about to ask him what I had done to drive him off. But Clark also seemed to lack a reasonable explanation for his bizarre behavior. I wanted to shake him, bring him to his senses at last but felt that violence was not going to help in the least.

“I am a restless sleeper, you’d just …” His voice failed at the blatant lie.

I would have liked to beat him up until he gave me a better answer than this, but I was also afraid of the truth. Whatever it was that was eating at him, he always remained polite. For the sake of my own sanity, I should not make him cross that line.

“We should better try to keep up appearances, Clark. If they find out that we’re reporters…” I whispered, uncertain what the consequences were supposed to be given the kind of story we were assigned on. Before my arguments became even more foolish, I bit my tongue. This was nuts!

“Do you really think that someone is watching us here, Lois? Besides, you were always so keen on keeping a professional relationship. I’ll take the sofa,” he added with certainty. I seriously doubted anyone could change his mind, not even me.

“What is it, Clark? What have I done? All of the sudden you want to give up your job! You love working at the paper,” I blurted out, not exactly thinking about what I was going to say. “We were friends, dammit! What happened?” I asked, desperate and way too shrill.

He returned my gaze calmly, looking straight at me. Only on second glance did I notice the tremor in his arms, his chest, and his eyes. The veil between us was gone, and for the first time in weeks I really saw Clark. He felt just as uncomfortable as I did. But why did he not talk to me? Why did we not say the words that needed to be said?

“Clark, I …” I began, ready to tell the big, important three words that had been on my lips for weeks. But I hesitated. It seemed to me as if Clark shook his head almost imperceptibly, as if he implored me not do that to him. Then he turned away, and the wall he had drawn between us, the wall that was so high I could barely see him anymore, was back in place — as impenetrable as ever.

“Yes, I like working at the Daily Planet,” Clark finally said. “But I think it’s better to leave. And now let us explore the hotel, Lois. We are here to work,” he said mechanically, almost coldly and went out of the room. Sad, I followed him.

***

The world beyond the door was a different one entirely. The hotel room had been bright and nicely furnished, but in comparison to the corridor, it seemed like a gray, cold cell. Maybe Clark’s broad smile made the difference, warming me from within as I left the bleak room. A passing couple smiled back at us, beaming with joy. They were all the advertising this institute needed. Clark obviously felt compelled to pretend that we were just as happy as they were. Anyway, he pulled me towards him, causing my heart to race. I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned into his embrace, though only a minute before I had felt like my world was going to fall apart.

Clark’s hand was on my back, and his breath brushed my hair as he pretended to place a kiss on my forehead. His lips did not touch me, but they were close enough for me to imagine the rest. A slight tingling sensation spread across my skin, and I wrapped my arm around Clark’s waist. For once he did not protest. Instead, he let me feel the play of his muscles under the soft fabric of his shirt. Slowly we assumed the roles we were supposed to play and became the couple that had every intention of solving their problems.

Walking arm in arm, we followed the hallway meeting several couples. One was dressed in robes and returned — laughing and kissing — from a swim in the pool. Another one was just holding hands, exchanging glances that left no doubt about how these two were going to spend their next couple of hours. Involuntarily my thoughts were running in the same direction. But I knew that Clark and I would never share our bed like that if at all.

All of the sudden, Clark pulled me towards him and gently pressed me against the wall. He leaned in, his lips touching mine in a light kiss. Or was he just pretending? His mouth was closed, unmoving. His hands stroked my arms, exploring and caressing me tenderly. But his lips were not playing along, as if it was not the kiss of a man but rather a children’s game of imitating adults.

The feeling was electrifying nonetheless. Clark’s breath caressed my upper lip and cheeks. Wave after wave of pleasure washed down my back. And then I tasted his soft lips. My tongue slid over the silky skin, sneaking its way into his mouth. I could not tell if it was me urging him to respond, or if he did it on his own volition. Anyway he began to return the kiss.

I clung to him, dying to get what I had been dreaming about for weeks. I lost myself in this ancient dance until the world around me faded into oblivion. All I felt was this familiar taste of the old Clark. We had kissed no more than a couple of times. Twice, if I remember correctly. In this very moment I had my Clark back, the one I had so deeply fallen in love with. The distance between us faded like the memory of a bad dream. Clark’s kiss grew passionate, and he drew me closer until I could tell that this kiss affected him just as much as me. His breathing became erratic as his tongue explored my mouth, caressing me tenderly.

Then I heard the faint mumbling of distant voices. Clark’s kiss became more reserved; his tongue stilled until it finally slipped back behind his lips. He did not pull back, but the kiss was forgotten. Only his lips were lingering on mine, reminding me of what had just happened. The distant voices became clearer as the talking men approached. Had he kissed me because of them? But how could he have known they would come?

“What do you think of the Whites?” a deep male voice asked, his words instantly attracting my attention. It was the name Clark and I were using as a couple. Not very imaginative, but …

“I don’t know,” the bellboy shrugged. “Could be anything. They’re certainly the weirdest couple I’ve ever seen” he added carefully. “At first he seemed as cold as ice, and then all of the sudden, the sparks flew. I think he still loves her.”

“And how about the money?” the first inquired.

“Dunno. He was pretty generous is all I can say,” the bellboy replied.

“Let’s go,” Clark whispered and hastily withdrew.

He took my hand and pulled me with him, rushing down the hall so fast that I had trouble keeping up. Clark’s kiss had me still confused, and try as I might, I had no idea what the guys had been talking about. Sadly the truth was that as long as I had no idea what would become of Clark and me, there was little hope I could concentrate on being the investigative reporter I used to be.

“What had that been about?” I asked Clark quietly, not sure if I was talking about the conversation or the kiss. I was obviously quite upset.

“I have no idea,” Clark said, his tone of voice indicated that he was referring to the conversation. However, he could barely look at me when we finally slowed down to a normal pace — walking down the hall arm in arm as demanded by the camouflage. My stomach was tied in knots while a huge lump built up in my throat. I knew that I could not go on like this.

‘I should have stuck to the third rule of never getting involved with a colleague,’ I thought miserably. But unfortunately, the rule had only been about sleeping with colleagues. It should have included falling in love with them. With one in particular.

The hallway was empty which filled me with a mixture of relief and sadness. Actually I had no intention whatsoever of receiving more of Clark’s mixed signals. On the other hand, I longed for an opportunity to once again feel his lips on mine. I was a nutcase, no doubt about that.

“We seem to have sparked their interest. Whatever that means.” I did my best to pretend that I was still lucid. “To find out what’s going on here, we should preserve this interest,” I said firmly, almost sounding as if there was something left of Mad Dog Lane.

Clark stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me aghast. “How … what …” he muttered and turned pale, his eyes widened. “Lois… that’s… you can… we can’t… “

His breathing became labored, and he seemed to be suffering a panic attack. The cold Clark was suddenly gone, as if he had removed a mask he had been wearing so long that no one any longer knew his true face. I could see fear in his eyes, but I had no idea what he was afraid of. What was it that scared him so much? Did he believe that something terrible would happen if we got too close?

I was taken aback by a sudden realization. It had always been me shying away from any sort of relationship. And thinking of the men I had spent time with, that was not exactly surprising. But was it actually the thought of building up a relationship that made Clark so nervous? As far as I knew, men usually started backing off as soon as a relationship threatened to turn into something more serious than just sex. Clark, however, was spooked by even the slightest hint of a touch. Even so, he had kissed me.

In the meantime Clark stepped back, withdrawing into himself even further than he already had. He held his arms tightly clutched to his body. He trembled slightly even though he made every effort to hide it from me. I stared blankly at him, trying to understand what had gotten into him. And then Clark lifted his head and visibly relaxed.

“Lois, why don’t you go downstairs,” he muttered hoarsely. “I… I’ve forgotten something in the room … I’ll be right back.” His eyes spoke volumes, begging me to go without any further questions. As if there was anything left to ask! I knew without a doubt that he would turn and run off. Just as he always did when we were going to discuss something personal. Though he rarely had seemed this happy about getting away from me as he did now.

And then I watched him running down the hall back to our room. I did not think that it was the place where he actually went. But I could not bring myself to following him in order to find out. Instead, I turned with a sigh and for once did as I was told. I went downstairs.

***

The elevator was the only place that did absolutely nothing to add to the hotel’s romantic atmosphere. When I entered, I was greeted by the wide smile of a LNN newsreader on a flat screen at the far side of the elevator. Grimly I looked at her, angry that she still thought there was reason to smile in a world like this. There was nothing to be happy about!

As she soundlessly read out the news, the screen switched to a video showing dramatic scenes. A scrolling text below the images replaced the missing sound and informed me not only about current stock prices but also about a devastating fire in a factory. The firefighters seemed small as they battled the flames.

Flames burst from the building into the sky. The hoses of the fire department looked ridiculously tiny. In most cities this sight would have triggered only breathless horror. In Metropolis, however, the hope was never far away. The camera zoomed in on the fireman, showing their relief, as a small blue-red figure appeared in the sky. Superman saved the day again.

With a slight tug the elevator stopped. A soft bell rang, and a voice announced that I had reached the first floor. The doors opened automatically, revealing the view of the spacious hotel lobby. Wide leather armchairs were arranged in groups around a few tables. Most of them looked so unused that it was hard to imagine anyone had ever sat there. Only a few were occupied, and there was an almost eerie calm that permeated the room. Perhaps it was because I was not in the best mood.

I wanted to turn on my heels and seek shelter in the safety of my hotel room. But then I remembered that this option would be even lonelier. I decided to stay where I was. Anything was better than once more being at the receiving end of Clark’s animosity. I had absolutely no idea, though, what I was supposed to do in the hall. Without a particular destination in mind, I took the first step. After all I could not gracefully keep standing in front of the elevator. My efforts to capture the atmosphere of this place, as Perry would have certainly expected me to do, were in vain. And I could not even think about the conversation we had overheard, or if it might turn out to be a story.

“Excuse me, please,” someone cleared his throat next to me, begging to get my attention. Surprised I recognized the man with the bowler hat.

I stared back at him, open-mouthed. “What are you doing here?” I said with difficulty and stared at the wrinkled face in front of me. I had seen him in the newsroom, but otherwise he did not seem familiar. What was he doing here? Had he followed us?

“I …” He blushed. “… I am afraid it is too early to tell you that,” he added apologetically. “It’s urgent that I speak with Mr. Kent. Can you tell me where he is?”

“What do you want from him?” I replied evasively, wondering why I even cared. Clark was an adult; he could deal with this on his own.

“This is a personal matter, I’m afraid,” the man with the bowler hat said mysteriously. That didn’t help to ease my discomfort concerning this man. What did he want from Clark? Could he be the reason that my best friend was acting so strangely? Had he gotten himself into something and now was ashamed of whatever he might have done?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” I said coldly and turned my back on the little man with the English accent. “He’ll be back at the Daily Planet in a few days. You should call him there.”

I did not look back. I just walked past Mr. Wells or whatever his name actually was. I had a hard time not turning around to look at him. Seeing the man again worried me. But I did not want to think about him, not about him and especially not about Clark.

Instead my thoughts drifted off to the man who was busy extinguishing a large fire. Superman was always busy, even after Lex Luthor’s death. Sometimes I had the impression that the end of Luthor had done nothing to calm the city. There was more crime than ever before. Maybe that was because the enemy had gotten more heads after the boss had come to an inglorious end.

Superman’s visits to me had become rare. It had been weeks since I had seen him up close. I kept trying to convince myself that it was not because of me. That had been easy, at first. But the more Clark ignored me, the more I believed that I had something in me that was scaring off men in general. I could never forget the night I had told Superman I loved him.

“It’s not your strength. If you were an ordinary man leading an ordinary life, I would love you just the same. Superman, do you think that there is a future for us?” I had asked wistfully. With a pounding heart I had stood there waiting for his answer.

My heart had sunk when he had looked down. His mouth had been tight, and his eyes so sad that it had taken my breath away. Slowly he had shaken his head.

“No,” he had said quietly. “No, Lois. That would not work. No matter how you feel for me no matter how I …” His voice had broken, and the words that should have followed remained unsaid. I had seen him swallow, and for a moment I had thought he would not go on. “Think of it, someone like me must not commit his life to just one human. I would only get you in danger… “Again he had paused and swallowed, as if the threat posed by him had been far greater than words could ever express. “There… there will be no future for us.”

“Don’t you think that I have a say in what I am willing to risk?” I had asked him, angry that he apparently wanted to make such a decision alone.

I had tears in my eyes and a big lump in my throat. My mind had been racing, and my thoughts had been just as confused as my feelings. On the one hand a horde of butterflies had fluttered through my stomach, stimulated by the coded declaration of love Superman had just made. On the other hand I had felt with every fiber of my heart that he would not change his mind, no matter what I said or did to him.

“Not in this case, Lois. No,” he had responded, even quieter than before.

Then he had turned on his heel to go, and before I had even seen him disappear, I had felt a strong gust of wind in my face. Superman had left me. Petrified I had stared at the open window. Only the wavering curtain had verified that the Man of Steel had ever been there.

At that time I had promised myself never to speak with him again. But finally I had realized that he was right. A relationship with him would inevitably make me a target. That did not scare me too much. But how could I expect Superman to live in constant worry? After several weeks of sulking silently, our relationship had returned to a fairly normal level. His visits became less frequent. When he came, he mostly talked about the things he had learned during the day, things we could use for our stories.

“… I offer you a massage?” a gentle, feminine voice woke me from my daydreams.

Confused I blinked and discovered baffled that I was standing right in front of the door leading to the spa. A hotel clerk smiled at me kindly. She wore wide, white linen trousers and a dark red polo shirt with the hotel crest embroidered on her chest. Her hair was pinned up in a casual knot. But even without the proper clothing worn by the rest of the hotel staff, she had an air of trustworthiness. Everything about her promised total relaxation: her smile, her muscular upper arms, and a welcoming gesture with which she pointed toward the door. Before I really knew what I did, I felt myself slowly nodding.

“Oh, hello, Darling. There you are!” A second voice, this time male, finally returned me to the present.

Out of nowhere, Clark appeared behind me. His hair was slightly damp, and he smelled like he had just showered. I had to force myself not to stare at him open-mouthed. Perhaps it was his broad smile that rendered me speechless. Of course he was smiling at the woman in front of us rather than at me. But lately my expectations were easy to exceed.

Stunned I followed the smiling woman simply because she made such a welcoming gesture. Without any explanation of where he had actually been, Clark followed us. He put his arm around me, intensifying the dreamlike state that I absolutely did not want to wake from. Even if everything was just a beautiful illusion, why should I not enjoy it? Why should I not imagine that everything was true? Who would trade such a dream for the ugly reality? Especially if this reality meant that after this story Clark would no longer be my partner. Certainly not me!

Behind the door to the spa there was a wide corridor. Soft lights illuminated it slightly, just enough to see everything. The walls were sand-colored, and Moorish-fashioned doors led to rooms on both sides of the hallway. Close to the ceiling an elaborate ornament decorated the plain wall. The woman stopped in front of a dark blue door.

“It’s great that your husband has joined you. Massaging each other is part of our program,” she said kindly. “This creates a new sense of intimacy. Enjoy your time together. This will help you to gain a new perspective on your relationship. We also offer courses,” she continued, opening the door for us. “In this room you will find everything you need. For questions, please do not hesitate to contact us.” With another welcoming gesture, she urged us to enter. “Have a nice afternoon.” She winked at us and then closed the door behind us. Suddenly we were alone.

The spacious room was covered with a light wood floor. The walls were painted in a delicate red that gave the whole place a Mediterranean touch.

“What…” Clark gasped as if he were about to suffocate.

Horror was written across his face as it dawned on him where we had been led to. His gaze shifted restlessly from the massage table towards the cupboard in the far corner of the room. Bottles and vials were sitting on it, filling the room with the scent of different oils. Clark winced, as if those bottles were telling of his impending doom. His reaction made me incredibly angry. Did he like treating me like this? Did he like to kiss and hug and caress me, only to dump me the next moment?

“Keep up appearances, Clark,” I whispered to him in the dim light.

I moved my lips rather than actually saying anything, but my voice sounded sharp. Perhaps Clark would later accuse me of setting this whole thing up in order to torment him. Or simply to punish him for ignoring me. But the truth was that I, myself, was completely taken by surprise. I had not planned to end up here and certainly not alone with Clark. Much less had I had any intention of doing, what my hands started to do on their own volition.

They began nestling with the top button of my blouse and opened it slowly. Clark stared at me open-mouthed, his face becoming paler by the minute. His hands clenched into fists. It scared me to see him tremble. He stood before me, frozen to the spot, gazing at me — or seeing right through me. I was not too sure. I was already uncomfortable but soon started to embarrass myself even more as my hands went on fumbling with the second button. I protracted the process unnecessarily.

Did I want to seduce Clark? I wondered involuntarily, already knowing the answer. Of course I wanted this. But not now and not here, not when he looked so tormented. I would have liked to talk myself into believing that this was just my reporter skills keeping up the pretence. But I knew better than this. Meanwhile my fingers reached for the third button.

“Lois,” Clark muttered, sounding helpless and lost.

Suddenly I could hear his breath, which had become almost imperceptibly faster. Fine beads of sweat covered his forehead, merging into larger droplets that eventually ran down towards his nose.

“Lois,” he repeated breathlessly, a pleading tone to his voice.

“They would expect a couple to spend some quality time together! After all we want to reconcile, don’t we? Don’t you blow our cover,” I said threateningly. I stood there, my hands on my hips and glared at him angrily, a fury teaching a green reporter how his work was to be done. But Clark was not that newbie anymore. When I was professional enough to endure this farce, then he had to be too!

His reaction turned my anger into white hot rage. Not arousal, but fear was simmering through the room. Clark was afraid. This realization rendered me speechless. Why did I frighten him? Was Mayson waiting in his apartment? Was he afraid of being lured into cheating on her?

But then he visibly relaxed, though his movements still seemed rigid and tense. Clark made a step towards me. Suddenly my fingers worked faster, I opened the last few buttons and shrugged of my blouse before Clark had reached me. My heart was pounding against my chest, and my mind raced. I wondered what had gotten into me that I deliberately undressed right in front of Clark.

‘It is just a massage, just a massage,’ I tried to calm myself down, repeating the thought like a mantra, over and over again.

I felt ridiculous standing there in underwear, repeating my mantra, and slowly dying from embarrassment. But I was Mad Dog Lane and had decided to get back at Clark. After all I was known for jumping head-first into danger. Clark himself had said that more than once. Or he had used to. Gathering all my courage, I climbed onto the massage table and reached at my back to unclasp my bra. Then I folded my arms under my head, waiting for whatever Clark had in store for me. My heart beat madly, its thundering sound filling my ears.

The whole time Clark had not said a word. But now that I was less preoccupied with myself than with what he would do, I heard him sigh softly. His steps were slow and a little clumsy, as if he was carrying something heavy. But he came closer, though apparently reluctant. I lifted my head and looked at him. My expression must have been pretty grim, for he quickened his pace, grabbing a bottle of massage oil. He opened the lid with trembling hands.

Gingerly, as if he was afraid of breaking the bottle, he set it down next to me. I smelled its nice flowery scent. For a brief moment Clark disappeared from my view but soon returned with a light brown towel that he spread over my back.

“Well, Lois,” he said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Do you like it gentle or rough?”

Although I had seen him prepare himself, I had not realized until this moment that he would actually do it. He would give me a massage without a doubt. The mantra that I had been repeating suddenly seemed utterly pointless. There was no way this was going to be just a massage, not for me anyway. Not when I so desperately hoped for more.

“Ge .. gentle,” I replied, my mouth dry.

I looked at him over my shoulder and saw his thin lips as he nodded. He took the bottle and gave a small amount of massage oil into his hands. His fingers were warm as he touched me, smoothly spreading the oil on my back. The flowery scent became more intense, making me dizzy as I felt my body relax.

Clark began massaging me slowly. His hands touched me lightly, resting on the small of my back for a moment. Then he moved them up my spine, across my shoulders, and back down along my sides to resume a new cycle. A pleasant warmth spread through every fiber of my muscles, and his gentle movements made me skin tingle with an increasing amount of anticipation every time he touched me.

“Mmhhh,” I moaned softly as his hands wandered further down my back. Wherever he had learned this, he was great at what he did. The smooth movement made me doze off until I was barely awake anymore.

“You like this?” Clark said in a hoarse voice, sounding actually worried that I might not enjoy his ministrations.

“Yeah,” I answered, stretching and savoring the warmth of his hands.

They were soft, softer than I had expected from a man. I felt their strength on my back, and I knew that he was holding back. The movements were well controlled, like everything about Clark. Quietly I wished that this would affect me no more than it apparently affected Clark. But every time his hands moved down my back, his fingers grazed the side of my breasts though only barely so. Under different circumstances I surely would not have even noticed. But I was desperately longing for his love, his touch, and his affection. I enjoyed this moment so much because I knew that this was most likely as close as we were ever going to get. Involuntarily my breathing quickened, and the heat began to spread through my belly.

I closed my eyes, immediately drifting off to the dream land that I kept visiting each night. It was a place where Clark bent down and … When he started to massage the muscles along my spine, I could have screamed in frustration. Even the most erotic moment of this so-very- innocent massage had finally passed. Why could I not force him to love me, to show his affection, if not in real life then at least for this blissful, fleeting moment? But Clark simply did what I had told him to do — he massaged me perfectly but without the passion that I longed to feel. Why could I not just get over him?

My back was burning. It was difficult to tell if that was due to warmth or unfulfilled desire. Clark let his hands continue to slide up and down my back. I had to admit that it felt good. The heat was pleasant, and I did not know when I had ever felt this relaxed, lying on my stomach, completely at someone else’s mercy. With Clark I was safe.

The warmth of his hands spread out on my left shoulder. I tried to fathom what he was doing. What I felt was that his hands formed a kind of V, but I was not sure. Ultimately it did not matter; I wanted to enjoy the moment as long it lasted. The way Clark was behaving lately, it could not be long.

Then suddenly his hands stilled, resting on my back. Their slight pressure increased, and I held my breath as the firm strokes of his massage turned into a gentle caress. His fingers brushed my skin, drawing slow circles. His touch was different; this was not part of the massage. I felt soft fabric on the small of my back that was definitely not the towel.

And then something warm and moist touched my shoulder. A guttural sound mingled with the moan that escaped me. For a moment I was mesmerized, paralyzed. Was Clark kissing me? My heart began to thump loudly. His being so aloof seemed like nothing but the shadowy memory of a bad dream that quickly faded. I felt his velvet tongue on my skin and the gentle play of his lips as he continued what his hands had begun.

I was lost in this completely unexpected feeling. I lay there motionless, desperately struggling with the desire to turn around and return the kiss. I longed to taste his lips. But I feared that I would scare him off. So I enjoyed this moment of pure bliss, knowing that breathing too quickly could very well burst my bubble. I did not want this dream to shatter into a million pieces, leaving me thrown back into a reality that I could hardly stand. For now Clark slowly covered my shoulders with tender kisses. My skin tingled under his touch, and I could feel Clark’s warmth spreading from my shoulders, inflaming my body.

But the magic of the moment was too soon disrupted by a door that slammed shut before I even noticed that his lips had left me. When I looked up, Clark was gone. My heart was still thumbing loud in my ears. Only a wet spot on my shoulder proved that I had not been dreaming. I slowly sat up, covering myself with the towel that had been lying on my back. My shoulder still tingled from his touch, leaving me with a faint notion of what might have been.

“Clark?” I asked, needlessly. I knew very well that he would not reply. “Damn it, Clark, why are you doing this to me?” I swore softly but no less fervently. It was just another question that had to remain unanswered.

***

A stultifying disappointment spread through me. I did not want to leave this room, not ever. Staying hidden seemed like my best option. Yet, a part of me wanted to strangle Clark. For a while Mad Dog Lane struggled with that shy, hurt Lois who dearly remembered his tender kisses. Anger and frustration were wrestling with each other in silence. I did not quite know if I should confront Clark or throw in the towel. I had certainly had enough of this game we kept playing. I had to know once and for all. If Clark did not know what he wanted from me, well… this could just as well become my decision.

Mad Dog Lane did not simply retreat; she wanted to give Clark a piece of her mind. So I got up and gathered the piece of clothing that was testament to my humiliation. Inwardly I cursed myself. Why had I done this anyway? There had been no one watching but Clark. By trying to seduce him, I had given him the means to hurt me more than any other man ever had. I hurriedly got dressed again, hoping that this would save me from the memories.

I walked back more depressed than I had been before. Clark had been right about one thing — Perry really should not have assigned us on this story. Did our editor have any idea how bad things were between us? Knowing Perry, I had no doubt that he did. He was aware of everything that was going on in the newsroom He surely had not missed out on our problems. He had certainly intended to help us solve them. However, I was not sure we still could.

I left the spa area and crossed the lobby. This time I looked neither left nor right but headed for the lift. I was not sure I would find Clark in our hotel room. But I lacked a better idea. This time I liked the dreary elevator much better than before. I was grateful for being alone with the quiet, constantly smiling newscaster. So I could clench my fists while staring at the wood-paneled walls rather than looking at a kissing couple with daggers in my eyes. I did not dare look into the mirror on the far side of the lift.

Eventually the elevator stopped. The doors opened slowly, revealing the bright view of the hotel corridor we had walked down barely an hour ago. Where Clark had kissed me… I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting off the memories. I did not want to start dreaming again. Those silly daydreams only served to make things worse.

I paced, almost ran down the hall, with only one goal in mind. This had to be over — once and for all. I needed to see Clark and talk to him. It had been stupid to hope that we could ever be more than just partners. And I would never be able to get over him if I did not confront him now. I had to know what he wanted, and I needed to give him a piece of my mind — one way or another we had to find a solution.

My heart was pounding when I put the key card into the lock. The door burst open, and I rushed into the room. I had half expected to see Clark packing. But the suitcases stood in a corner untouched. The only sound came from the bathroom. Someone had turned on the shower. So he was hiding where he knew I would not follow him! White hot rage infused me. I could not quite believe what I was hearing. He ran out on me — leaving me half naked on the massage table — to take a shower? Had he not been taking a shower right before he had joined me in the spa? He could not possibly be taking showers every time he disappeared!

Instinctively I held my breath and crept closer. The bathroom door was ajar. For a moment I just stood beside the door, indecisively. I wanted to turn around and leave. It simply did not feel right to spy on Clark. But my curiosity soon gained the upper hand. I pulled open the door and peered inside. Clark stood under the water jet, his whole body tense. His hands were clenched into fists which he had pressed against the walls of the shower. Water ran in streams down over his perfect chest. His lips moved silently.

He did not even notice me. Clark just stood there motionless with his eyes closed and took a shower. My gaze wandered over the perfect shape of his stomach, half hidden behind the frosted glass. My cheeks burned with embarrassment when I saw I had not been the only one affected by this massage.

“Oh, my God,” he muttered under his breath, and a deep groan escaped his throat. I felt the urge to go and leave him alone. But I was glued to the spot. “What am I supposed to do?” his husky voice broke the silence.

One of his fists slid down the glass wall and opened slowly and moved lower … I closed my eyes not wanting to look at this intimate moment. But finally I blinked and found that Clark had not done it. His free hand hovered motionless in the air.

“I can’t go on like this,” he admonished himself, a sobbing sound escaping his throat. “I can’t keep doing this ..” He swallowed hard and groaned. “I must stop …” Clark sounded very desperate, his breathing was labored and he was trembling all over.

Though I felt that it was about time to retreat, I could not help but wonder what he was doing there. Why he was in the shower? And suddenly I realized that there was hardly any steam rising from the shower. At least it was not as much as I would have expected. A bit puzzled I noticed that he was still wearing his socks. Suddenly I understood — Clark took a cold shower.

“Oh, damn!” His sudden curse was so loud that I involuntarily stepped back and stumbled out of the room. Clark had never before raised his voice in my presence. I was not even sure I had ever heard him curse. “Damn!” I heard him again. It sounded muffled and almost suffocated.

Then his voice cracked, uttering something that sounded like a name. I was not sure though.

My confused mind tried to convince me that it had not been Mayson’s name he had been crying. But truthfully I just could not bear thinking that he had fantasized about her while massaging me. In his mind he had probably kissed her. I started shaking, barely able to breathe. Clark loved Mayson Drake so much that he could barely stand being away from her.

Ashamed and confused, I crept out of the hotel room. I had absolutely no idea where I could go now. With a sigh I rested my head against the closed door, trying to understand what was going on. Life with Clark was such an emotional roller coaster ride lately.

***

Satisfied, but also a little sad, I had looked at the beautifully set table. With a sigh I had lit the candles and had wondered if anyone would see them but me. It had been Christmas, and for the first time in years, I had decided to celebrate. My family would not be there, but it had probably been better that way. I had invited Perry, but he had intended to spend some time alone with Alice. Jimmy had shrugged at my offer and had said that he had not yet been sure he would come. That usually meant no. Clark had wanted to spend the Christmas holidays with his parents in Smallville. And Superman — well, I seriously had not expected him to show up to a Christmas party. After all he was a busy man, and who knew whether Kryptonians celebrated this holiday at all?

Inwardly I had known that this would be another lonely Christmas. But while I had been looking at myself in the mirror checking my dress one last time, I had secretly hoped for a miracle. A moment later, it had happened — the door bell had rung. With a pounding heart I had gone and opened the door. Clark had stood there with a smile and had held out a present.

“Merry Christmas, Lois,” he had said, beaming with joy.

Presumably, this night had been the final step in my falling for Clark head over heels. I remembered this last Christmas Eve like a dream. I relished it. We had spent a wonderful evening, danced together and finally looked at the stars. That evening Clark had been the best friend one could ever wish for. Throughout the past year Clark had been my solid rock. He had protected me from another encounter with Lex Luthor. He had helped me to save my sister from Johnny Corbin. Without really noticing it, I had fallen in love with my partner. But the more I longed to be close to him, the further away he moved from me.

I dropped to the floor, leaning against the outside of our hotel room door feeling incredibly miserable. I knew that I should get up. Sooner or later someone would come by and see me like this. That would be most embarrassing. Clark and I were here to find each other. This hotel was amazingly — almost painfully romantic. There was virtually no way to resist the atmosphere. The effect on us had been entirely different though. My legs felt weak, and I could not bring myself to move a limb.

Suddenly I was lying flat on the floor and looked into the face of the man who had caused my confusion. His mouth was opened in surprise, but he did not say anything. Terrified I got up and tried to regain my composure. What was wrong with me? I hardly knew myself anymore. As if nothing had happened in the massage room, Clark leant me a hand and helped me to stand.

“Is everything all right, Lois?” Clark asked me anxiously.

Nothing in his stance reminded me of the fact that he had been standing in the shower uttering curses only minutes ago. Only his hair damp hair proved that I had not been dreaming this. He wore a white shirt and tight jeans. The usual tie was nowhere to be seen. Clark pulled me into the hotel room and hastily closed the door behind him. He looked back at me ruefully.

“I’m sorry for running out on you,” he said gravely. “That was inappropriate.”

“Indeed, it was,” I snapped, shooting him a furious glance. “What’s the matter with you, Clark? Why are you behaving this way? What have I done to you that you hate me so much?” I asked angrily, trying to hide my despair.

Clark’s eyes widened. “I don’t hate you, Lois! I never could,” he exclaimed in horror. “I know that I haven’t been a good friend lately,” he muttered embarrassed, and his cheeks paled. “I’m sorry, Lois. I’m so sorry. “

“You’re behaving pretty strangely! Why do you want to leave the Planet all of a sudden? Can you finally tell me what’s going on?” I cried crossly and felt tears spilling down my cheeks. That had not been part of the plan. I did not want Clark to see me crying. That it happened only made me angrier. “I admit that I’m not particularly fond of Mayson. But that doesn’t mean you have to abandon me just like that. We used to be friends, Kent. Did you forget that?” I asked him glaring at him. My hands were clenched into fists ready for battle.

Clark shook his head slowly. “I could never forget that, Lois,” he said in a choked voice. “I just imagined things to be a lot easier …”

“What did you think would be easier, Clark? Is it her? Is Mayson the one who wants to drive us apart?” I shouted at him. Lashing out at him made it easier not to cry. “I wouldn’t put it past her to act like that,” I added and realized, startled, that I had actually voiced my thoughts. It did not take me long to overcome my speechlessness. I went on before Clark had a chance to interrupt me. “She’s not good for you, can’t you see that? I know that I wouldn’t listen when you warned me of Luthor. Clark, please, don’t make the same mistake now. You shouldn’t let yourself to be taken in by her completely, Clark! She is not worth it, “ I said breathlessly.

“Lois, I love …” he began, but I could not bear to hear him say that.

“I know that this isn’t easy,” I interrupted him instead. No one knew better than I how it was to be lovesick. But I could not tell him that. It would only lead to further tears — my tears — when he told me that he just did not feel that way about me. “It never is.”

“Lois, I …” Clark tried once again.

“Why do you want to leave the Daily Planet, Clark? Tell me,” I challenged him vigorously.

Clark looked at me with big, sad eyes. “I’ve already explained that to you,” he replied, restrained.

This conversation was apparently as tough on him as it was on me. His voice sounded hoarse as if he, too, had a thick lump in his throat. Was I imagining things, or were his eyes getting wet? He kept his hands balled into fists, his whole body trembling though he obviously tried hard to suppress it.

“No, you didn’t,” I replied and clenched my fists, too.

“Well, then I haven’t told you my reasons,” he suddenly blurted out. “But telling you wouldn’t change anything. And I don’t want to talk about it, Lois.” His voice held a threat that sent cold shivers down my spine. Startled I looked at Clark. He had to have noticed my reaction because he instantly slumped down, his expression sad while his hands visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry, Lois. I really didn’t want to … sound so harsh. But this is something I cannot tell you about, really, I can’t,” he added feebly and turned away from me.

For a while neither of us said anything. I was much too busy wondering what it was Clark felt so uncomfortable talking about. Meanwhile, my partner was staring out of the window as if something out there had caught his interest. But I knew that he just did not want to face me. What had happened that we could not talk to each other anymore? Just when I wanted to ask him, a knock at the door interrupted the silence.

“Mr. and Mrs. White?” The voice was muffled by the door. “Are you there?”

Although Clark had been standing at the window seemingly miles away, he was the first to open the door. A smile appeared on his face, switched on like a lamp. He stepped back, and we looked into the face of a well-dressed middle-age woman. Her dress was dark, which in combination with her chastely combed hair made her look colorless. She reminded me of one of my grade school teachers.

“It’s great that I found you so quickly,” the woman smiled and suddenly looked a lot nicer. “My name is Mrs. Arnold, and I am your tutor during your stay here. I’m here to outline the course of your first evening here,” she then said in a businesslike manner.

“The course?” Clark asked somewhat confused, saying exactly what I had been thinking.

“Of course.” She nodded mysteriously and smiled at us again. “The first evening includes dinner,” she explained. “However, this is not just dinner but also a communication exercise.”

Slowly it dawned on me that we were attending some kind of therapy. Clark also seemed to have seen the light because he no longer looked quite so confused. Instead he nodded slowly.

“An exercise in communication,” he noted. “What exactly does that mean?” He asked cautiously as if the prospect of a therapeutic strategy was reason for distrust.

Mrs. Arnold was still smiling as she stepped further into the room. Her movements bore witness to her self-confidence. With her head held high and her back straightened, she turned to us.

“We have prepared a list of topics for you. We ask you to talk exclusively about them,” she said finally. From the side I could see how Clark raised a quizzical eyebrow. I was obviously not the only one who had noticed. “The topics will be handed out at the table and should all be addressed. You don’t have to stick to the order. But in your own interest it would be good if you go through all of them even if you may feel uncomfortable about some,” she added and made a portentous pause while she looked at us seriously. “The aim of this exercise is to understand that openness and honesty are important elements of a relationship.” She nodded at us and turned to leave. “We’re glad to welcome you as guests at our institution,” she declared before she opened the door and left us alone. Unusually unanimous, we stared at the closed door.

***

I could not tell how exactly I had managed to walk towards the restaurant arm in arm with Clark. At some point I just ended up sitting at a table wearing an elegant dress. That was nonsense of course. After all I could not just snap my fingers to find myself in the perfect date. Clark had changed his casual white t-shirt and tight jeans for a dark suit. He looked absolutely stunning. Any attempt to ignore this fact was futile. My partner had obviously decided to play along.

The restaurant was bathed in dim light, and only the glow of the flickering candle on our table lit Clark’s face. He looked relaxed, and he actually smiled which made my heart beat involuntarily faster. This ebbing between emotions was unnerving me, and I wondered if Clark might be right about putting a stop to this partnership. I could not stand this roller-coaster ride anymore — it was about time to give up hoping that he would fall in love with me. Did Clark know how I felt for him? If he did, why would he torture me with this incredibly stunning smile?

“So, where do we start?” Clark asked, scanning the list in front of him like a menu. We had already ordered so he could only be talking about our first topic.

I, too, looked at my list. There were some completely innocuous topics but also one that made me break out into cold sweat. Did we have the same list? His brows did not furrow.

“Who was your first kiss?” I asked out of a sudden impulse.

“Hey, that question isn’t on my list,” Clark protested good-naturedly. He looked at me defiantly like he had done when he had lectured me about ‘chumpy’ not being a word.

“It’s on mine,” I retorted, tapping on the appropriate line and felt my stomach clench. We had different lists — this evening was going to be a disaster.

“Oh, is that so?” Clark said, his lips curving into a warm smile. “Her name was Lana Lang. She lived on the neighboring farm in Smallville. In tenth grade she had every intention of me becoming her boy friend,” he laughed at the memory but then quickly turned serious. I could see a sad twitch to his mouth. He seemed distressed. Whatever caused it, remained visible for only a moment before it disappeared again.

“Did you like her?” I asked, curious to find out what that sad expression meant.

“Well, honestly, I liked her better before she had chosen me as her future boyfriend. I liked her … yes … we even dated a few times. But we never really fit together. Lana always wanted to be popular with everyone, she wanted everything, including being the quarterback’s girlfriend …” Clark added lightly. He did not seem to be uneasy with the topic. He raised his wine glass to his lips and took a sip before he set it back onto the table.

“And you weren’t the quarterback?” I asked, glad that we had found a topic that held no bricks to drop. Had I misread the expression in Clark’s face?

“No,” he replied amused. “I did my best not to qualify for that position,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You turned such a position in the football team down to get rid of Lana?” I snorted surprised. I was glad that I had not taken a sip of my wine as well. Otherwise the table cloth would now be covered with red speckles.

“That was one among many reasons,” Clark said lightly. “I think it’s my turn now, right?” His eyes went over his list then he looked at me thoughtfully. His fingers toyed with the stem of his wine glass; he pushed it gently back and forth apparently without actually noticing what he did. “Who’s your best friend?” he asked.

“You,” I replied without hesitation.

“Me?” His eyes widened in amazement. “Really? After all …” He fell silent, and he really did not need to say anything else. I knew what he was thinking. Honestly I was probably just as surprised as he was.

“Yes. I mean I know you’re not a woman, and a best friend of a woman usually is a woman too. But that doesn’t really matter, does it?” I started to babble, bursting into a nervous giggle. “But yes, when I think about it — nobody knows me better than you do, Clark. Even Lucy doesn’t. I like you and I trust you even if lately things are not going so well between us. All in all, I still hope… “

My heart was beating like a steam hammer, and suddenly all composure was gone. I stopped when I realized that I had just been about to confess my love for Clark. The words already sat on the tip of my tongue. Just a little nudge and they would fall down right in front of his feet and would destroy all that might be left of our friendship.

“Lois,” Clark said softly, placing his hand on mine. He let it rest there, unaware that his touch sent jolts of electricity right through my body. A pleasant tingling sensation spread from his hand. It would have been sensible to withdraw. But there was no way I could have done that. “I would love to say the same about you,” he said sadly, and it was just the look in his eyes that kept his words from sounding offensive. “But the way I have been behaving lately, I don’t deserve a friend like you,” he added, ultimately taking the edge off his words.

“Clark, why don’t we try to get back to the way things were between us? Please tell me what it is that is standing between us so that we can work on it.” I begged him, but he just shook his head.

“I can’t, Lois. Basically there is nothing that would prevent us from being friends. Nothing except my being so achingly stupid,” he smiled wryly and still looked so sad that it literally tore my heart.

I felt the sudden impulse to embrace him and kiss his pain away. But he was certainly going to take that badly. Besides, this whole situation was harder on me than on my partner with the puppy dog eyes. For a moment I fought a quiet battle, trying to convince myself that I was brave enough to take the first step. But then I chickened out, returning to our task of this evening.

“If you were an animal, what would you like to be?” I changed the subject rather abruptly and wondered why I had chosen this of all questions. Probably because there was no way I could screw this one up.

Clark looked at me thoughtfully. There was not the slightest hint in his expression to give away how he felt about this change of topic. All I could see was his puzzlement. But the sad expression finally disappeared and was replaced by a smile that made my heart race again. Inadvertently I had only succeeded in making things worse. If Clark kept smiling like that, I was definitely going to lose it.

“This is a difficult question,” he squirmed and spent a while readjusting his glasses. Then he cleared his throat. “I think I would like to be a dog.”

“A dog?” I asked stunned and reached for my wine glass to keep me from staring at Clark. “You’d like to be a dog?” I repeated and could not bring myself to take a sip of my wine. My eyes were glued to him.

“What’s wrong with that?” Clark replied innocently, while I tried to imagine my partner as a dog — with a leash and a wagging tail. It just did not fit.

“Dogs aren’t free; they always do what their owner wants…” I pointed out, but Clark quickly interrupted me with a hearty laugh.

“I can see you’d rather be a cat — not tied to anyone. It’s always in control of its family but not quite a part of it,” Clark said and somehow managed to make these character traits sound negative. “I’d gladly give up my freedom to be part of something…” he went on softly and wistfully. His gaze fixed on the tablecloth, now Clark took the wine glass in hand, drank, and hastily put it down again. “Would you excuse me for a moment, Lois?” He asked, then stood up, and hurried off toward the restrooms.

Confused I stared after him. Why did I doubt that a full bladder had driven him off? Once again he had disappeared in the middle of a serious conversation, and I would gladly have known where he actually went. He could not seek refuge in the shower every time he went missing! I nervously glanced at the clock to see that not half as much time had passed as I had assumed. Our food had not arrived yet, and we had two long lists of topics ahead of us. So far it had not been that bad. But looking at that list again made my stomach clench painfully.

<Did you cheat on me?> was the first item of many.

How were we supposed to talk about this one? Technically Clark had not been cheating on me. But since we were “the Whites” for the time being, Mayson was his mistress. Even the simple confirmation was probably more than I could bear tonight. But this could hardly be called a conversation. Besides there were other questions I had to ask if Clark said yes. Involuntarily I took a sip of wine in order to suppress my soaring panic.

“Ms. Lane,” someone next to me said softly. I nearly choked on my wine as I once again looked into the face of the Englishman.

“What do you want, Mr. Wells?” I snapped but not so loud that the whole restaurant was bound to overhear. “Back in the hall, I already told you that you’d have to wait until we return to the office.”

“In the Hall?” he asked confused, staring at me blankly. “Then I’m obviously not quite where I wanted to go. Oh my goodness, these trips keep confusing me. What do I do now?” He murmured. “Excuse me Ms. Lane. I didn’t want to bother you,” he quickly apologized and bowed. Then he hurried out of the restaurant, leaving me baffled. It was bad enough that one man kept running out on me, why did there have to be two of them?

***

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said friendly. A pained smile appeared on his face as he looked at the empty chair across the table. “Hopefully your husband comes back soon. It would be a shame if we had to reheat the food for him. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be as delicious.” He nodded at me briefly, then looked up and smiled, visibly relieved. He had discovered Clark. My partner came over to us with flushed cheeks and an embarrassed smile.

“You were long gone,” I chided him with a significant glance at the clock, thus emphasizing that twenty minutes had passed.

“I’m very sorry, Lois,” Clark said contrite. He waited until the waiter was gone before he finally spoke again. I suddenly realized that I was tapping my fingers on the table impatiently while I shot my so-called best friend angry glances. “I … I was held up. “

“Oh yeah? What was it, Clark? Was your zipper jammed?” I hissed, took my silverware, and vowed to ignore Clark for the rest of the evening. From the corner of my eye, I discovered his deepening blush with grim satisfaction. Angrily I split a potato in two parts, then three, until suddenly I had turned most of it into mash.

“Lois…” Clark tried but did not get far.

“You know what,” I interrupted him rudely, “I don’t care.” I shrugged. Let him use the men’s room or the shower any way he wanted. “It would just be nice if you tried to keep up this marriage for a single evening.” The rest of the potato fell victim to my anger, and I was beginning to wonder why I was not the one who kept running out.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, Lois,” Clark said softly and looked at me concerned as I worked on the potato. Not much would be left of it, and I did not even like mashed potatoes that much. “I … I’ve heard them talking again outside,” Clark whispered across the table in a sudden change of topic. I could only look at him quizzically. Confused I furrowed my brows and tried to understand what he was talking about. What could he have overheard in the restroom if he had been there, that was? “The bellboy keeps observing us.”

“You mean …” Suddenly I remembered what we had heard in the hallway outside our room a couple of hours ago. Had I become become such a lousy reporter that I had forgotten about the only lead that might turn out as a story?

“We’d better not discuss this here,” Clark said then. “The issue is not on our list.” His eyes sparkled, and for a brief moment I recognized my best friend Clark. “Where would you have liked to spend your honeymoon?” He changed topics in a jiffy making me even more confused.

I did not want our argument to be swept under the rug. Especially not after this had earned me mashed potatoes swimming in gravy. I would have preferred an open fight over returning to our tradition of … well, not talking about our problems.

Honeymoon — the nerve of that man.

But we sat together at a table. We were surrounded by other couples, sitting at their tables, and most likely watching us. They were probably just waiting for me to turn this conversation into a scene.

“There was no honeymoon, Clark,” I replied indignantly and took the first bite before I used the fork for worse things than mashing potatoes. Defiantly I looked at him, quietly telling him that it was his turn now to keep this conversation going. It really was not my fault that he was being so distant. I had tried to be his friend.

“I know,” he said simply. “It’s a hypothetical question anyway, isn’t it? The Lois I know would most likely spend her honeymoon hunting for a story worth a Pulitzer, “ he teased me good-naturedly. “Or did you have something special planned with Lex?” Clark finally started eating. Despite the good food he kept his attention on me, eyeing me constantly.

“Do we have to talk about him again?” I asked acidly and drove my fork into a piece of meat. “No, I had nothing planned with him. Lex did the planning, but I assume you already knew that.” Did he really need to mention my unbelievably poor taste in men? It was already bad enough that Clark was the culmination of my list of notorious liars and unfaithful guys. Clark was not either of those, but my streak of unsuitable dates remained unbroken. I had finally fallen for a man who had no interest in me whatsoever.

“I’m sorry, Lois,” Clark replied, honestly contrite. “So where would you like to go to if money didn’t matter?” His question sounded like a peace offering. Again the famous Clark-smile appeared on his face that made it impossible to stay angry. He had always had this effect on me, even before I had fallen in love with him.

“Where would I want to go?” I repeated as I reluctantly decided to play along. “Somewhere with the sun, a beach, and the sea…” I said dreamily and immediately began to imagine living on a desert island with my old Clark. I saw the two of us on the beach, playing in the waves, soaked to the skin, but incredibly happy. My imagination was like a cheesy movie. The kisses were borrowed from a distant past, when Clark had still been the lovable, green reporter.

“Ultimately, it wouldn’t matter to me where I am, Clark” I suddenly heard myself say. “It’s the person I’d spend my honeymoon with who matters — the right man.” I looked at him seriously and discovered an amused smile on his lips.

“Who would have thought that Lois L…” He managed just in time to swallow my last name, obviously remembering where we were. “… is a true romantic.” Clark sighed theatrically and looked at me again with that mischievous expression that literally took my breath away. “And yet you haven’t had a single date since Lex,” he added quietly, flashing me an anxious glance.

I rolled my eyes. “Are we actually talking about this issue again?” I asked indignantly. “I had dates, Clark.”

“Oh yeah? With whom? Lenny Stoke? I hardly think that he counts as a date,” Clark protested, shaking his head.

“Mind you, I even have a date at this very moment,” I said pointedly.

Clark choked and started coughing. With a certain satisfaction I watched him struggle for air. Even so, I felt tears burning in my eyes. How dare he? How dare he suggest a date with another man, as if this did not matter to him any more than my buying a new pair of shoes?

<You could at least pretend you were jealous>, I thought sadly as I eyed him over the rim of my wine glass. Clark coughed one last time and calmed down again. I shot him a venomous glance he probably did not even notice. He could at least have the decency to embarrass himself in front of everyone, if he spurned my feelings like that.

“Have you cheated on me, Clark?” I hissed, staring daggers at him. I was determined not to let him off the hook, not until he told me all there was to say.

“What?” he gasped and suddenly paled.

“You heard me,” I replied coldly. “Do you have a mistress, a girlfriend to sweeten the lonely nights?” I put my glass down on the table, so hard that it rattled.

“That … that question cannot possibly be on your list,” Clark choked out and looked at me pleadingly. Did he seriously expect me to laugh and confess that I had just been kidding? I relentlessly pushed my list of questions towards him.

“When you’re done reading, you can also answer the sub items, Clark,” I added and watched as beads of sweat appeared of my partner’s forehead. He scanned the list several times and eventually had to acknowledge that I had every right to ask these questions. “Given your dates with Mayson, I’m assuming that your answer to my first question is ‘yes’, isn’t it?” My own heart clenched painfully because I was not sure whether I was willing to bear the consequences.

With trembling hands Clark handed the list of questions back to me. It took a while before he looked up from his plate and faced me. He looked really awful, at least as miserable as I felt. No wonder he had not wanted to take this assignment. But then Clark seemed to gather his composure and leaned back in his chair.

“I broke up with Mayson, Lois,” he said hoarsely. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but I understood him clearly. “We dated a few times, but that was all we did.” Clark’s lips became thin with tension. He audibly breathed in and out. His eyes were fixed on me as if there was no one else but me in this restaurant. “I certainly wouldn’t call her my mistress,” he added roughly.

Utterly confused I looked at Clark. I had seen him with Mayson, had seen their kisses. Clark had dated her only yesterday. Had he actually told her to get lost? I could hardly imagine. After all he was crazy about that girl. Had it not been her driving him into the shower?

“Oh yeah? What else has she been to you, Clark? I really didn’t think you were so much into one-night stands,” I replied, angry that he actually thought he could deceive me. “Although — haven’t you been with Cat?” I added scornfully.

“No,” Clark said through clenched teeth. “I didn’t sleep with Cat or with Mayson for that matter.” Then suddenly Clark jumped up and stormed off. I did not suppose he was heading for the restroom again.

Taken aback I watched my partner leave. That Mayson had not succeeded in seducing Clark was beyond my comprehension. She had been trying really hard. However, that thought did nothing to comfort me. If they had waited, she had been more to him than a woman to have casual sex with. Though I liked the idea of Clark not sleeping around, I was devastated. This had to mean that he had loved Mayson in a way, he would never love me. That was worse than I had ever dared imagine. But then why had he broken up with her? Or had she left him, and now his male pride would not let him admit that?

I was still busy staring at the door through which Clark had left the restaurant, when a smiling waiter approached the table.

“With regards from the chef,” he said exuberantly, serving a delicious smelling chocolate mousse. “Will your husband be back?” His smile was friendly, yet anxious and not quite genuine. Perhaps he was afraid Clark and I would ruin the success rate of their couples therapy. What would he say if he learned that we were not even married?

“No, I don’t think he’s coming back,” I said with genuine regret. “He didn’t feel well.” I wondered why I even started inventing excuses for him. Had I really sunk so low? “The food was really tasty,” I said for good measure before I dipped my spoon into the mousse. The waiter gave me a warm smile before he slipped away.

Finally I was alone with this dream of chocolate. The taste was so comforting that all of a sudden I realized how unhappy I really was. Tears filled my eyes and another spoonful of dessert was the only thing that kept me from breaking down completely. I do not think I had ever needed chocolate as badly as I did now, not even after almost marrying Lex Luthor. Did Perry know what he had asked of us, assigning us on this story?

***

Concrete had stuck on my clothes, my hair, and my skin. I had not cared. Calling Superman had not been for my sake. Dr. Hamilton had naively committed some bad mistakes, but he was a good man, he had deserved a second chance. On the other hand, I had contemplated simply dying in the concrete. Had I really wanted a life without Clark? Lost and alone, knowing that I had not even told him how much he had meant to me?

But now my lonely life had me back, and I had been embarrassed for even thinking about giving up. Clark had died to protect me. It was my duty to honor his gift of life. While I had stood there covered in concrete facing Superman, a shiver had run through me. I had vowed silently to be more careful.

“Is everything all right, Lois?” Superman had asked worriedly and had looked at me with a strange expression. His eyes had been wide, and he had not seemed to be sure whether he should stay or fly away. I had not been able to help but think that I had not had his undivided attention.

‘Y.. Yes,” I had replied softly, and then when I had thought about it, I had shaken my head. “No…I should have told Clark that… I don’t know if anything will ever be all right again,” I had murmured sadly. But I had also felt a certain relief that I had finally told someone, that I had finally voiced my feelings for Clark. “Superman, I miss him so much.” A familiar lump had built up in my throat, indicating that I had been barely able to keep from crying. It had never been more difficult than at this moment. “My best friend is …” I had gone on, feeling that I could not actually say it. “I miss him so much..” I had repeated depressed. My tears had begun to flow freely. I had not been able to stop them, and I had no longer wanted to.

Superman had looked at me with a pained expression. I had known, or at least had suspected, that he had felt just as guilty as I had. His lips had parted as if to say something, but instead he had nodded at me briefly. He had mumbled something and had flown up into the sky. I had assumed that he would have rather taken care of the bad guy than have engaged in this conversation. We both had suffered a loss and each of us had his own way to cope.

I had looked at a miserable Dr. Hamilton who had been standing next to me, still busy with his sneezing fit. His clothes had been sticking to his body, and he had shivered. He had also lost; his dream had been shattered. Superman had ensured that the clones he had created would cause no more damage. It had been a bad night for all of us. As a dark figure had appeared in the distance, I had been afraid that this night held more in store for us than even we had bargained for. Once Superman had left, the police would certainly show up. It had always been that way. Tonight would not be any different. The last few days had taken their toll on me, and I had not had the strength to face another interrogation.

“I’m so incredibly sorry for what I did, Ms. Lane,” Dr. Hamilton had sniffed and had looked at me ruefully. It had not been the first time he had raised the topic.

“Nobody could have guessed that it would turn out that way,” I had tried to comfort him and had rubbed my eyes.

“I will never again experiment with genes,” he had vowed. “As soon as I get back to my lab, I’m going to destroy all my records.”

I had nodded. I had had no doubt that he would. Dr. Hamilton might have had committed a terrible mistake, but at least he had the opportunity to learn from it. I had been sure that I would never again get to know someone like Clark. The lesson I had learned had come too late. Try as I might, I had not had the time to tell Clark I loved him, not anymore. Clark had been dead.

The distant figure had come closer. My eyes had been playing pranks on me, like they had so often in the past couple of days. The man who had approached us, had walked like Clark, had touched his glasses like Clark, and had made my heart beat with longing. I had been seeing Clark everywhere since he had collapsed in the bar right in front of me. He had been the man on the street, the man in the café. And the hallucination had not stopped. The closer the man had come, the more I had been convinced that I had actually seen Clark. And finally, though I had known it could only end in embarrassment, I had run up to him and had hugged him, clung to him.

“Clark! Clark!” I had cried like a drunk. I had half expected him to push me away.

“Lois,” he had answered quietly, letting me passionately embrace him.

For several minutes I had pressed my face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent. It had not bothered me that I had still been caked with concrete. This dream was had been too good to let it be ruined by ridiculous concerns about clean clothes. My tormented mind had finally created the man I had so desperately longed to see. Everything had seemed to be genuine — his smell, the feel of his arms embracing me, the warmth that had emanated from him and the whiff of his breath on my hair. Even his voice had sounded like him, comforting me and taking away my pain.

Clark’s presence had been probably just another sign that I had finally lost my mind. But having had him back had been all that really mattered to me. What I had thought to be just a brief moment of bliss remained. Clark had stayed with me, strong and tangible. His voice had remained as deep and comforting as it had used to be. I had stepped back and had looked into the sweet face of my partner, the man I had fallen in love with. Only his smile had not returned with him. He had been serious, almost grave, as he had told me how he had so miraculously returned.

I emerged from my memory and found myself sitting on the bed of our hotel room. Vaguely, I remembered walking back alone. The room around me was dark. I did not know how long I had been sitting there. For a moment I considered changing into something more comfortable, but I could not bring myself to get up again. The clock was right next to me, but I could not work up the courage to check it. The nightstand beside the bed and the lamp on it were no more than a barely discernible shape. I liked it that way. I was content sitting there, wallowing in self-pity. I waited for Clark to return from wherever he was now so that I would no longer be alone. Just as alone as I had been when I had thought that I had lost Clark forever. The memory had come back to me involuntarily and with it the question that I had been asking myself for weeks now. Why had Clark come back? If it was so difficult for him to be close to me, why had he told me that he was still alive?

Before I really knew what I was doing, I grabbed the phone and dialed a number. The phone rang a few times before someone took the call. There was a brief moment of silence, then a cough, and then…

“Lucy Lane,” my sister said. For a moment I was paralyzed. My tongue was tied. Why on earth had I called my sister? I did not even know her number by heart, and yet … “Hello? Is anyone there? Lois, is that you?” Lucy asked with an instinct that kept surprising me.

“Yes,” I replied weakly, wondering what I was going to say now.

“You’re calling late,” Lucy remarked, and a look at the clock told me it was true. It was past midnight. Had really so much time passed? “Is this about Clark?” Lucy wanted to know. She was curious, not hostile, as I would have been.

“He hasn’t come back yet,” I said softly. “We ate together, then he got up and disappeared. And he’s still gone.” There was silence for a moment. I heard Lucy breathing, probably pondering what to say. “We argued,” I added, feeling that I needed to tell her more. “At least I think so.” My heart pounded in my ears, once, twice.

“About what?” Lucy asked. “What happened, Lois?”

I told her about the dinner and the forced conversation about our so-called relationship or what was left of it. Finally I got to that last question and to Clark’s reaction in particular. Lucy listened patiently while I poured my heart out. Slowly I felt myself calming down though not much.

“… I don’t know, Luce,” I finally said. “Maybe he’s sitting at the bar getting terribly drunk.” I had to swallow at the thought. I could not really imagine Clark drowning his sorrows in alcohol. He was always so in control. “I’ve never seen him drink more than a glass of wine,” I added more to myself.

“Have you ever asked Clark why he keeps being so distant?” my sister asked. This time she was clearly the more sensible one of us. Her voice was calm. She sounded focused and patient, even though it was way too late for such a conversation.

“Yes,” I replied quietly. “He won’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Lucy asked, puzzled.

“He doesn’t want to talk about that either,” I replied and suddenly got an hysterical fit of laughter. “You know, Lucy,” I said breathlessly. “… that’s funny. Finally, I’m willing to open myself to a man and then he clams up.” I kept on laughing until tears ran down my cheeks, and the laughter turned into violent sobs. Lucy endured this with patience. She said nothing, but I could hear her breathe. “I can’t take this any longer.”

“I know, Lois,” she said sympathetically. “Should I come to you? If I catch the next plane, I can be with you tomorrow morning.” I felt more tears rolling down my cheeks.

“But… but… you don’t have time…” I said haltingly.

“And no money,” she added. “But I can hear that you need me, Lois. You are my sister, and I love you. “

“Oh, Lucy,” I sobbed even harder. “This is really very sweet of you. But I don’t think it’s necessary. I don’t know why Clark is behaving so strangely, but I’m going to find out.” Was I trying to convince Lucy, or myself? “Anyway, I’ll be fine,” I said softly, trying to speak despite the increasing lump in my throat. Then suddenly I heard a scratching noise at the door of the hotel room. “Lucy,” I hastened to say. “I think Clark is coming back. Thank you so much for listening.”

“I wish you luck,” she replied encouragingly. “Goodbye, Sis.”

“Goodbye.” I hung up, wiping the tears away from my eyes.

Mesmerized I sat on the bed and waited. The scratching grew louder; then I heard something that sounded like a soft curse. For a moment it was quiet, almost eerily quiet. I could hear my own breathing, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. Would Clark come in, or did he want to spend the night outside the room? Or had I been dreaming, and it was not he? The thought sickened me.

The scratching became a knock. It was hesitant at first but then got more determined. “Lois?” I heard Clark’s voice call from outside. “Lois, can you open the door, please?” he asked hoarsely.

It took a while until feeling returned to my limp body. I realized that Clark did not have a key card. It had been in my pocket when he had so unexpectedly stormed out of the restaurant. I slowly got up from the bed and went to open the door. On the way my mind raced. Desperately I tried to brace for the moment. How was I supposed to react?

I could not have been prepared for the sight of him, though. Clark’s face was gray, tired, and completely exhausted. The strong smell of alcohol added to my irritation. His shoulders were slumped, as was his whole stance complete with his tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“You’ve drunk,” I realized in horror. My anger vanished into thin air.

“Yes, pretty much,” he admitted frankly. “Didn’t help, though.” He laughed, sounding almost hysterical and shook his head. “And why would it…” He sighed in despair not addressing me. “Why would it,” he repeated disillusioned and looked at me openly. His gaze was amazingly clear; his back straight. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. “I think it’s about time to tell you a few things,” he added uncertainly and ran his hand through his hair. “Would you let me in?”

“Oh, suddenly you want to explain?” I replied with a furrowed brow. I folded my arms across my chest in order to regain my composure. “What made you change your mind?”

Clark looked towards the floor depressed. “I guess I more than deserve that,” he remarked with a wry smile that flashed only for a brief moment in his mouth. “And you’ve got every right to be angry with me, Lois. But … could we please discuss this inside? What I’m about to say…” He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “…is nothing we should talk about in the corridor.”

Both reluctant and curious, I stepped aside and finally let Clark in. He looked at me gratefully and smiled with relief. Even now, though, sadness was engraved in his lips — a trait that had gradually turned into his constant expression. Gradually it deepened. I closed the door and followed him to the sofas in the middle of the hotel room. Clark slumped down on one of them.

“I’m so sorry for everything I did to you, Lois,” he said again, barely daring to look at me. “I keep treating you like… well pretty badly. But I really have no idea how… “ He swallowed hard, falling silent.

I waited for him to say more. But he just sat there defeated. He propped his elbows on his legs and buried his face in his hands. It took a while before he would move again. Strained to the utmost, I forced myself to sit down next to him. Almost immediately he moved away from me, looking back at me guiltily. He paused for a moment and slid closer again.

“Clark, what are you doing?” I snapped at him.

“Excuse me, please,” he muttered unhappily. “This has become some stupid habit, hasn’t it? I shouldn’t be avoiding you. But you have to understand … “

“What do I have to understand?” I asked bitterly.

My question remained unanswered. His eyes rested on me, staring at me more intently than he had in weeks. Mesmerized he raised his right hand to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. His short, gentle touch made my cheek tingle.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said hoarsely, almost reverently. Running his fingers through my hair, he finally cupped my cheek.

I was a wonderful moment. I wondered whether maybe this was just another dream. Clark leaned in until there were only inches between us. Impulsively I closed the distance and suddenly felt his warm lips on mine. He kissed me tenderly and yet with an unexpected hunger. Our tongues immersed into a slow dance until everything around us was forgotten. What I had been yearning for for weeks, the fulfillment of my desires, was suddenly just in reach. I leaned against him while I explored his body with both hands. I felt his broad, solid shoulders, muscles, and his heart beat. It was on the verge of bursting through his chest.

“Clark,” I whispered breathlessly. “Clark,” I moaned, hoping that this would never end. If it was just another erotic dream, I did not want to wake up.

His hands were everywhere, stroking me, caressing my breasts. He picked me up effortlessly and carried me over to the bed, gently setting me back down. It was odd that after everything that had happened between us, I did not mind being treated like that. But with Clark I felt absolutely safe. He watched me for a moment as if to make sure that I did not object to taking the next step. As if I ever would… Then he slid next to me and kissed me again, this time slower and even more tenderly. He took his time just like in my dreams. Although I could feel his hunger, his passion, his caress was nowhere near hurried.

“Oh, Lois, I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he murmured against my lips. “Forgive me. I thought there was no other way,” he pleaded and sealed my mouth with a fervent kiss before I could reply. “But I was wrong…” he whispered hoarsely. “If only I try harder to make this work…”

This kiss deepened, and his words melted away, disappearing into nothingness. It was just he and I There was nothing more to be said. Clark belonged to me. He was there without any doubt or hesitation.

This had to be a dream. But I did not care. Even if this moment existed only in my dreams, it was real enough. I had waited much too long to finally be with Clark. Tenderly he stroked me, seduced me until my whole body was burning with desire. And when I thought I was about to lose my mind, his gentle caress brought release.

***

“That was …” I was still trying to catch my breath. The world around me was just gradually returning. Clark was smiling more happily than he had been for weeks. He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Wow …” I sighed, exhausted but satisfied. “Is this really happening?” I asked with a trembling voice.

“Yes,” Clark replied embarrassed. I could almost see him blush in the dark. “I didn’t mean to impose on you like that.”

My confusion grew. “Please, tell me that I’m not dreaming!” I softly pleaded with him. I snuggled closer into his arm, wanted to feel him, to convince myself that I would not wake up again in an empty bed. His breath tingled on my skin, assuring me with each gentle whiff of air that he was actually there.

Clark kissed me again, his lips gentle like the flutter of a butterfly. “This is no dream,” his warm voice whispered reassuringly. “Though it certainly feels like one.” His smile warmed my heart. Was he actually back here with me? The mere thought made me dizzy with happiness. I could not avert my eyes for as much as a blink, fearing that all this would burst like a soap bubble if I did.

But Clark remained warm and reliable next to me. I kissed him again. I could not get enough of his lips. Velvety and sweet his tongue caressed me. I felt his hands on my back as he hugged me.

“Oh, Lois,” he murmured, caressing my skin. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine. I would never let go of him again. My hands moved over the muscles of his arm, across his back, memorizing the structure of his body like a blind person would.

“Clark, what …” I said after a while, quickly biting my tongue. I did not want my curiosity to destroy this precious moment. After all I had been through, I wanted to enjoy this as long as it lasted. Not to mention that I felt a little guilty because it had been just me having all the fun.

Dimly I saw his face in front of me. I leaned forward and tasted his lips again which readily opened to the kiss. Oh, how I had yearned for this. The truth was that I did not really care why he had been so distant. All that mattered was that he had stopped running.

“We aren’t done yet, Clark,” I said huskily, deepening the kiss. With my hand I traced the lines of his abdomen underneath his shirt. I had not even noticed that he was still fully dressed. I stroked him gently and let my hands wander deeper. His breathing became labored. He gasped and suddenly pushed my hands away.

“No, Lois, don’t,” he choked breathlessly. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you…You need to understand that this is very difficult for me. I’ve never…” Clark swallowed hard and then fell silent again. “Lois,” he murmured reverently, and his eyes locked on me. “Oh, God.”

Then suddenly his eyes widened. He removed his hands from me and jumped out of the bed. With a frantic cry he stumbled backwards and hit the wall. His face was contorted with terror as he ran his hands through his hair and covered his eyes. He almost seemed to be suffering pain. Clark was shaking all over and stumbled sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Quite clearly he was torn between the impulse to run away and the desire to finally explain what was going on.

“Nonononono,” he groaned in despair. “I can’t do this! Why on earth did I believe that this could work!” It sounded like a curse. “Forgive me, Lois, please forgive me.” His voice was trembling like the rest of his body. With a dull thud Clark hit his head against the wall and then sank down to the floor defeated. “I’m so sorry, Lois,” he apologized quietly. I could see the pure terror in his eyes as he looked at me from the ground. “This should not have happened,” he said more to himself than to me. “I shouldn’t have fancied myself as being able to…It was unfair of me to impose on you…” He made a choking noise.

“It’s okay, Clark,” I tried to calm him down. Did he actually think that he had done anything to violate me? Anything but that! “I enjoyed every moment of this, Clark. I… I wanted it, too,” I whispered and felt a tear run down my cheek. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long …I want us to be…”

“No… no, Lois, please, don’t say that. This shouldn’t be happening. Oh, I should have known…” Once again Clark made this choking noise, and suddenly I realized that he was sobbing. “I shouldn’t have… oh, my God, I knew that…”

Stunned I looked at him and tried to understand what was going on here. Clark had kissed me. He had kissed me not some fantasy of Mayson Drake. He had called me Lois. He had made love to, well, almost had made love to me. But the way he looked now, he clearly was in a bad shape.

He cried.

“Clark?” I began but soon realized that speaking coherently was beyond me. I was completely baffled. “What should not have happened?” I asked again when I remembered that he had said something along those lines.

Clark leaned against the wall. In the dim light of the lamp on the bed stand, he looked defeated. While I was watching him, he opened his mouth helplessly, but no words would come out. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes, and I could tell that he was struggling to retain his composure. This was so absurd. Clark had done what I been dreaming about for weeks now. So why was he crying?

“Th… this,” he replied after a while. “I never… should have kissed you …” He looked down at his feet. “I shouldn’t … have been so foolish to believe that I could make this work in spite of everything. Now things will be even more difficult. “

Nothing of what he said, made any sense to me. “Then why did you kiss me?” I asked in a moment of self-destructive curiosity. “Do you take some perverse pleasure in torturing me?” I shouted at him angrily. “Why are you doing this to me?” I knew I was not going to like the answer, so why did I ask him anyway?

“Because…” Clark again swallowed and ran his tongue over his apparently dry lips. “… I love you.”

I said nothing. He had already confessed his love, and yet it felt wrong. Clark’s words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I could only sit there and stare at him. My life began and ended in this very moment when he finally said the words I had been longing to hear for weeks. But this was more than I could comprehend. They sounded hollow, meaningless, and — strangely enough — yet deeply honest.

“Lois?” Clark asked quietly as he looked at me. His eyes were still damp, his lips pale and trembling.

“What… how…” I struggled for words, knowing there was really nothing I could possibly say to express how I felt. “How can that be?” I breathed. “You… you cannot love me… you… you barely even look at me…” my voice had become unnaturally high. <You treat me like dirt> — I could not voice that thought. Now it was my turn making a choking noise. “… You hate me.” Again we just stared at each other wordlessly unable to have a conversation. An eternity passed before Clark moved again, and yet another passed until he said something.

“No, Lois, I don’t hate you,” he said gently, and for a moment his eyes rested on me; he looked at me openly. “I could never hate you.” Slowly he stood up again, presumably to further back away from me. “For months I’ve been trying to come back to my senses and be your friend. But I cannot stand this anymore. I must go…” His voice broke, and he began trembling all over his body again. “I… I can’t do this anymore.”

“Why, Clark? Why?” I cried quietly, my voice breaking as I tried to put all those questions I had on my mind into one. “What’s the matter?” My gaze followed Clark as he slowly crept over to the window. For a while he stood there motionless and stared into the night. “I love you too, Clark.” My voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. I could not believe that I still felt this way. That was absolutely unbelievable, and yet it was true. “I love you,” I repeated, afflicted. Clark winced noticeably when he heard my words. “So much,” I continued, determined to finally confess this.

“Please don’t say that, Lois,” Clark growled, depressed. “Please don’t make this any more difficult for us than it already is,” he pleaded, leaning his hand against the wall beside the window.

I quickly averted my eyes. It hurt to listen to Clark’s dismissal. I’d have liked to escape this situation, but I did not know where to go. And I could not just leave without getting any explanation at all. He owed me that at least.

“You’re going to tell me the truth now, or I won’t let you go,” I said icily, ready to get in his way should he attempt to leave. “And I don’t want to hear any stupid excuses, not after you broke my heart. You’ve used me without wasting a thought on what this might do to me. You call that love? I deserve better than that.”

If looks could kill, Clark would have immediately collapsed in front of the window. He remained on his feet though, apparently aware of the angry woman behind him. He turned around.

“You’re right, I owe you an explanation,” he replied softly. “I thought that it would be better for both of us if you didn’t know the truth. I’m sorry, Lois.”

His right hand jerked up to his glasses, once, twice. Then he took them off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Without his glasses the dark circles under his eyes were even more striking. His face looked strange and yet familiar in a way that sent a chill down my spine.

“Lois,” he muttered uneasily and took a step toward me. His voice blended with that of another. “You need to understand, that I never enjoyed lying to you. I often thought about telling you. It’s just …” his voice trailed off. Even without him actually saying it, all the pieces suddenly fell into place. The voice, the eyes, all the excuses, all the strange things made sense.

“You’re Superman,” I replied flatly and tried to grasp the meaning of his revelation.

“Yes,” he admitted quietly. “I had really been hoping that I didn’t need to tell you, for your own sake.” He swallowed hard.

“How … how could you … how dare you?” I stammered. “For my sake?” I laughed, but actually I felt only hot burning rage. “What were you thinking, you idiot?” I snapped. “Did you enjoy this? Did you like watching me while I made a complete fool of myself, being so head over heels in love with you that I’ve completely lost my mind?”Again I laughed bitterly. “Oh, I should never have gotten involved with you in any way whatsoever!”

My breath came in panting gasps. Furious I gathered up my clothes, slipped into my pants, and found a sweater. Suddenly I was at the door; my hand wrapped around the handle. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and for a moment it was all I heard. Clark stood in the dim light of the hotel room and looked strangely naked without his glasses. His tie hung loosely around his neck. A couple of shirt buttons were opened. Even though they only revealed his bare skin, I was no longer fooled. Superman was standing right in front of me nervously running his hand through his hair. My heart pounded louder, stronger, and the walls seemed to close in on me until I was afraid I would suffocate. While Clark’s eyes widened, I turned the handle of the door, took a step forward, and then stumbled through the open doorway into the hallway.

A hoarsely whispered, “Lois,” followed me on the way out. Then there was silence until I just heard my breath and the barely suppressed sobs that shook my body.

***

Utterly confused, I ended up in the park. My legs seemed to have chosen this path on their own volition. Tired and with puffy eyes, I squinted into the night and fought with the darkness. Rain fell as a dense curtain that completely surrounded me. Up until now I had not even realized that it was raining. The weather matched my mood. It was unusually cold, and I held my arms tightly wrapped around my body. It did not help much. The cold crept into my limbs, increasing this feeling of loneliness that almost stole my breath away. I desperately wanted to understand what had just happened. But I could not. Memories of my encounter with Clark swirled into a confusing dance of images that appeared in rapid succession. And with each repetition they made less sense.

<Because… I love you.>

<You’re Superman!>

< I had really been hoping that I didn’t need to tell you, for your own sake.>

Like the colors in a kaleidoscope, the words blurred into one another. Why had he concealed all this? How could Clark be Superman? How could he treat me like this? Despite everything that had happened, I had always considered Clark as a man with more integrity. He treated women with respect, he did not torture them! I knew him or had at least thought I did. It seemed so unreal — like a bad dream. I had seen it with my own eyes, and yet I struggled desperately against this realization.

“Lois?” a low voice beside me said. Involuntarily my heart rate soared until I realized that it was Clark who had emerged from the darkness. I winced and looked at him shocked. In the moonlight he seemed even paler than before.

“Go away …” I muttered reluctantly and turned my back on him.

“Lois … “ he pleaded with a trembling voice. His shoes made a sucking sound on the muddy road as he approached me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you are, Clark,” I said accusingly, trying not to let on how much he had frightened me. “More than you can imagine.” I heard a weird slurping noise while Clark took a few steps around me. But I did not give him a chance to face me.

“Lois, please look at me …” he asked helplessly and finally laid a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off.

“Why should I?” I hissed, sounding angrier than I was. Truth be told, I did not know what to think. “You lied to me — you’re playing a very nasty game!” I choked. “Not even Claude would have acted like that. I should have known — after all I had not made up my three rules for nothing. But then you enticed me into breaking them!” I accused him. I faced him at last, crossly slapping his broad chest with flat hands.

When I mentioned Claude, Clark involuntarily sucked in his breath. Maybe I was wrong, but he suddenly seemed out of it. He shook his head in despair and was no longer able to look me in the eyes. Instead his gaze was locked on some place between my navel and the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Lois,” he murmured almost inaudibly. “That was never my intention.”

I opened my mouth to say something but never got to it. Clark raised his head, and his mouth opened slightly. Even though I could not see his face, I guessed that he had assumed that distant look again like he always did just before he disappeared.

“I hear something,” he said, tensely and started to scan the area. “Someone’s coming …” he lowered his voice to a point that I could barely hear him.

Clark took a step toward me and grabbed my hands. I tried to fight him off, but his grip remained firm. Unfazed he took me with him deep into the shadows between the trees and bushes that lined the path. It was pitch black, probably darker than it could ever get in Metropolis. As Clark’s moonlit figure disappeared between the trees, he literally became invisible. If it had not been for him holding my hands, I could not have told where he was.

My heart was beating madly. I was blind with hot raging anger. Again I tried to free myself from his grip. But of course I did not stand a chance against Superman, and how was I supposed to? The feeling of helplessness made me want to cry. Why did I not yell at him and just break free? I had had enough of Clark! Without much of an effort he forced me to follow him and dragged me into the shadows. He kept concealing what was going on and then told me the next moment that he was Superman. Just like that! He now did physically to me what he had been doing emotionally to me for weeks.

“How dare you …” I hissed furiously. The last word was muffled by his palm as if I had never spoken.

“Shhh,” he whispered and pulled me behind a few bushes. Then I heard what Clark’s ears had picked up much earlier.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel approaching in a rapid staccato sequence. Apparently someone was in a hurry. Voices came from a distance. It took a while until I had calmed down enough to listen. The words were too faint. I was about to sigh in frustration. But Clark’s hand was still firmly pressed onto my mouth and effectively kept me from uttering a sound.

The voices became louder, and I could discern some of what was said — but that made no sense. Clark was no more than a shape beside me, but he seemed to be staring into space. I suddenly realized how often I had watched him do that, never understanding what he actually did. How could I believe myself to be in love with someone I knew next to nothing about?

“What do you mean ‘bad news’?” a loud voice said, shattering the night.

“The couple we are observing are Lois Lane and Clark Kent of the Daily Planet,” a man replied nervously. “I recognized Lois Lane from a recent photo of her in the Planet.”

“So what? This hotel is famous far beyond the borders of Metropolis. It’s about time they do a feature on us. A little publicity can only benefit our cause,” the other man interjected. A smile crept into his relaxed voice.

“Don’t you get it?” the first man replied. “These are not just some hacks! They’re investigative reporters. If they find out what is going on here… “ His words died on his lips, but he had definitely sparked my interest.

“Then we won’t let them find out. Keep them busy! You’ll think of something. So, what about this IT-guy? Will he comply?” The voices died down while the two men walked down the gravel path moving further away from the hotel.

I could not see whether the other man agreed to the plan. He did not voice his thoughts. The rest of the conversation was swallowed by darkness and the pouring rain, at least for me. Clark’s body was still tense while he still seemed to stare at the now vanished men. I freed myself from his hand that remained over my mouth.

“Clark,” I hissed both annoyed and fascinated.

He winced and protectively raised his hands to his ears. I remembered that he had covered his ears a couple of times before. Now I knew what that meant. His super-hearing was apparently not only useful but also sensitive. I felt strangely satisfied seeing him suffer — and was instantly ashamed of myself.

“They blackmail couples,” Clark blurted out as he stood up and held out a hand to assist me. “They’re using this place to spy on couples and search for the perfect victims — rich, powerful, whatever. Their mind games are probably providing them with all the information they need.”

At the phrase “mind games” I almost laughed. Such a thing was more likely a part of my vocabulary than Clark’s. But my gut instinct told me that this was going to be a big story.

“Do you hear anything else?” I asked, excited and happy that for the first time in weeks my strained relationship with Clark did not matter. How could I so easily forget, what he had done to me? I had to have lost his mind. But I so desperately longed for a bit of normalcy.

He shook his head apologetically. “Too much noise …”

“But it’s very quiet,” I protested confused.

“Not for me, it isn’t. Warring couples, the piano in the bar. It’s not easy to pick up two voices from all the noise I hear,” he added apologetically and hid his hands in his trouser pockets. How could he be so casual about this now? After all he had been hiding his secret identity for years.

Sluggishly we walked down the path back to the hotel. Why did I still follow him? Because I knew that there was more? Because I was hoping for a better explanation for his behavior than his being Superman? Now and then I looked at him from the side. The moonlight lit up his face. The situation was strange and yet familiar. Here we were again in dark corners hunting down a new story. Everything could have been back to normal again, but it absolutely was not. I could not help feeling that the gap between us had only gotten deeper.

Clark lifted his head again staring into space. “An airplane …” he said softly, almost breathless and with a certain horror in his voice. “… it will crash.” His eyes were clear again, and he looked at me seriously. “Lois, I must …” he trailed off, flashing me an uncertain smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Go on,” I murmured, relieved that I now knew why he kept disappearing. But I was also angry that each conversation had to end like that.

Clark turned and ran into the night away from the hotel. Only moments later I heard the familiar “whoosh” when he soared into the sky. I exhaled slowly not realizing until then that I had been holding my breath.

***

It was almost three o’clock in the morning when I finally returned to bed. I was tired — the day had taken its toll on me. But sleep was impossible. I had tried, really tried. The light was out; I lay under the blanket and looked for a comfortable position. Seven times I had already turned, but that did not help at all. Sleep would not come.

The thoughts kept tumbling in my head and came back to me every time I tried to push them off. Clark was Superman. I did not really know what this meant to me. Where was he now? Was he still saving the airplane? Or had he finally decided not to return? The uncertainty was agonizing. I had been looking for answers, but I had only found more questions.

Impatiently I brushed the blanket aside. Waiting had never been my strong point, even less so now that I knew how to find Clark… The TV screen flickered on.

<… Reuters news agency reported.> the anchorman finished one report and turned his gaze towards another camera. The cameras focused on him again, showing him up front. I knew him vaguely from my short time at LNN. <A plane of AirAmerica barely escaped a catastrophe earlier tonight. The engines failed shortly before landing at the Metropolis airport. Superman was able to save the plane just in time and helped it land. None of the passengers were injured.>

The background image changed. The face of a pop starlet appeared whose name I did not even know. There had been times when near-crashes of aircrafts had been worth more than a bottom note in a news magazine. But that had been before Clark had changed all our lives. I was still having trouble imagining my partner in a blue suit and a cape.

This lie superseded almost everything else. Clark had deceived me. Was that really worse than the weeks he had spent giving me the cold shoulder? I was not sure. Only that last betrayal was certainly more than I could bear. Had he actually used me? For sex? That was something I had not expected of him. Clark was different. I did not want to imagine that he could even be remotely similar to Claude or Paul. Sex had never played a role in our very complicated relationship. Until now. But what puzzled me most was that he had not gone the whole way.

Defiantly, I turned off the TV and cuddled myself into my blanket. I would just stay awake and spend the rest of the night giving Clark a guilty conscience.

But sleep came sooner than expected.

I woke up when Clark returned. The room was dark, but his silhouette stood out in the dim moonlight. My imagination added the smile to his face. Haltingly he came closer and gingerly sat down on the edge of my bed. He did not move, just watched me and smiled. It was the most beautiful smile I had seen in ages. I longed to touch him, but I was afraid to drive him off. Our relationship had become so fragile. Perhaps he would leave as soon as he realized that I was not asleep?

I tried to breathe evenly. But it was hardly possible to deceive Superman. “Lois?” he asked warmly. His voice was quiet so that he would not accidentally wake me. “You awake?”

I opened my eyes. “You’re late,” I said softly.

“I know,” he said guiltily. “I’m sorry, Lois.”

It was like he was moving in slow motion. He gave me all the time to protest against his closeness. But I had no intention of sending him away. I had fought so many useless battles with him, almost losing him in the process.

“Will you be okay with this?” he asked me dejectedly and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

“With what?” I sat up in bed so that it was easier to look him in the eyes.

“With the truth,” he replied softly and swallowed hard. “With the fact that I lied to you, Lois. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have told you everything. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded strained as if he was barely able to stifle a sob.

Gradually he leaned forward and closed the distance between us. His kiss was gentle and yet restrained. He took his time and more importantly let me the time to decide whether I was going to respond. I had been almost certain that I could not forgive him. He had lied to me. Because of him, I had made a fool of myself . But when I felt his lips, both my intentions and my anger melted away. I lost myself in the sweetness of his touch. His warm breath tickled on my face as he covered me with a rain of kisses.

“I wish I could always be this close to you,” he whispered and started to caress me. A rush of warmth filled me that spread through my whole body from my toes to my fingertips.

“You can be with me, Clark,” I replied breathlessly. I felt rather than saw him shaking his head.

“Only in my dreams,” he said softly and so sadly that I felt the lump in his throat as if it were in my own.

When I awoke, the warm beams of sunlight lit up the room. I lay alone in bed. The sheets on the other side of the bed looked depressingly unused. I sighed involuntarily and pushed the blankets aside. For a moment I was seriously tempted to just pull the covers back over my head. What could be out there that was worth getting up for?

As if someone had read my thoughts the scent of freshly brewed coffee permeated the hotel room and got stronger the further I moved away from my bed. Then someone knocked at the door.

“Lois? Are you awake?” Clark asked softly.

“You gotta ask?” I replied testily.

I yanked open the door ready to put Clark at the receiving end of my anger. If anyone deserved it, it was he. How could he have lied to me for years only to suddenly blurt out that he was Superman? Not to mention that … Well, I did not even want to think about it. Growling I stepped out of the bedroom.

Clark flinched and ducked his head, trying to hide behind himself. Even so I noticed that he was pale. He had dark circles around his eyes. Suddenly my anger was gone. I had never seen him quite so exhausted.

“Good morning, Lois.” The cup of coffee he held out for me was a peace offering. His hands trembled. A faint smile flickered across his lips, just strong enough to lift the corners of his mouth a little.

“Good morning, Clark,” I replied automatically and accepted the steaming coffee. Confused I followed him to the trolley with the breakfast.

On each plate lay a croissant, and I felt my mouth watering with their delicious smell. My resistance melted away, and I almost felt guilty as I followed Clark’s invitation to join him for breakfast. Whatever had actually happened yesterday, I was the clear winner of our fight.

Clark looked lost as he stood beside the tray pouring me a glass of orange juice. His movements were erratic as he offered me even more pastry.

“Will you sit down?” I asked impatiently, as he didn’t make an attempt at sharing the breakfast with me.

“I … but … I do,” he uttered incoherently, and his gaze wandered back and forth between me and the vacant chair.

“What’s going on, Clark?” I urged him to speak. “I thought we agreed that there would be no more secrets between us.”

“I didn’t sleep very well is all,” he muttered and nervously ran his hand through his tousled hair. He took his glasses off his nose and rubbed his tired eyes.

“You didn’t sleep at all,” I stated calmly.

“That’s not true,” he defended himself as he finally sat down. “I dozed off briefly and …” His cheeks blushed, and he cleared his throat self-consciously as he took the croissant from his plate. “You’re right,” he admitted after a while. “I haven’t been sleeping.” The blush faded somewhat.

“For how long?” I wanted to know and scolded myself that I paid any interest in him whatsoever.

He didn’t reply right away. Clark awkwardly dipped the croissant in jelly, took a bite, and then moistened his mouth with a sip of the orange juice. The tremor of his hands had increased.

“How long haven’t you been sleeping, Clark?” I demanded to know and flashed him a Mad Dog Lane glance that would have easily turned Jimmy into a pillar of salt.

“Four weeks, give or take.” His words were little more than a whisper, dying on his lips as he took another bite of the croissant. He was obviously doing that on purpose. I stared at Clark aghast.

“What?” I gasped dumbfounded. Why had I not noticed? “Four weeks?”

“It’s not like I didn’t sleep at all,” he said defensively. Then restlessness took possession of him again. He got up hastily and moved over to stare out the farthest window he could find. Absent-mindedly he continued to eat his croissant.

My mouth was quite dry, and now it was my turn to cling to the orange juice.

“Do you have to …?” the question died on my lips

The answer was obvious. And yet I became painfully aware of how little I really knew about Clark. I felt silly. Had I really confessed my love for him without even knowing about such fundamental things like whether he needed to sleep?

“Yes,” he said feebly. “ I can go with two … three hours a night for a while…” he muttered and fell silent again. I did not ask him how long ‘a while’ was. But I had the distinct feeling that recently even sleeping those three hours had been rare.”Lois, do we have to talk about that now?” he asked and then returned to his seat. Even that seemed to strain him.

“So what can we talk about, then?” I replied caustically.

Clark ignored my comment. “About the blackmailing?” He offered carefully.

“Blackmailing?” I tried to remember, but I was too distracted.

“The story,” Clark replied patiently. “The conversation we overheard in the park. These two guys mentioned some IT guy they were blackmailing.”

Stalling the answer, I grabbed my croissant. It was still warm. Heaven knew how Clark had pulled that trick. It took me merely a second to recall how exactly he did things like that.

“You didn’t fly to Paris to get them, did you?” I wanted to know as I broke the pastry in half. The blush that covered his cheeks was answer enough. “Why?”

“A bribe?” Clark said softly. “So you’ll talk to me again.”

“I am talking to you,” I replied coldly.

“Whatever you say,” Clark said with a helpless shrug.

He intentionally avoided looking at me which made me incredibly angry. Taking a bite of my croissant was the only way to keep from lashing out at him. The pastry melted on my tongue and spread its soft and comforting flavor until I had calmed down a bit.

“If I may remind you, I’m not the one who started this,” I added defiantly.

Clark opened his mouth only to close it again. What could he say anyway? After all I was right. But just as quickly as my anger had soared up, it faded again. How much easier would it be to argue with him! But Clark just gave up, and that was even less like him than anything I had already experienced. Silently we ate our breakfast because neither of us knew what to say.

***

“Silence is the greatest enemy of a healthy relationship.” Every inch of the lecturing man screamed psychologist. I couldn’t help but think that despite its end, I was going to prefer the dinner over this part of the program

The psychologist wore comfortable sandals. His curly mane had retreated to the back of his head, and a pair of glasses sat low on his nose. Casually he leaned back in his chair as if he had already spent his entire life behind patients on a couch. The guy whose name I couldn’t even remember barely looked at the little group of desperate couples. His eyes rested on the sheet of paper which he had sheltered in his lap.

“Feelings must be expressed — anger as well as affection,” he continued, raising his head enough to look around. The couples around us nodded obediently. “The basis of a good relationship is honesty.” He paused as if to emphasize his words. “But don’t forget that honesty can hurt too. A compliment should be heartfelt, and don’t be too harsh in your criticism. Always ask yourself how you would want to hear the truth.”

The sententious lecture of the psychologist went on, but I found it increasingly difficult to listen. My relationship to Clark had not gotten any easier since he had been honest with me. For months I had been in love with a liar. The mere thought caused me heartburn.

“C’mon, Clark. What’s wrong?” I had tried to tease out an answer. My partner had leaned against the wall of the elevator with his eyes closed and had slightly swayed. “You look awful!” It had not been exaggerated. Clark had been deathly pale; his hands had trembled as he had clutched at the hand rail.

“Nothing, just a headache,” he had muttered weakly. Shaking his head had caused him to grimace.

“I think I’ve got some aspirin in my desk,” I had offered, feeling pity. I had hardly ever seen Clark sick. But then he had looked pretty miserable.

“It’s okay,” Clark had replied. “I don’t think that will help.”

“Trouble with Mayson?” I had asked and a rush of jealousy had filled me. It had been difficult to accept that Clark was dating Mayson. I had almost hoped that I had hit the bulls-eye.

It had taken a while before he had answered. His gaze had been absent and I had not been sure that he had actually heard me. But then he had nodded.

“Yeah, yesterday evening,” he had replied and squinted his eyes as if the pain had increased. “I don’t know, I think I should go to her and apologize,” he had added and pressed the button to the floor that was under the newsroom. Moments later we had reached the floor, the doors had opened up. “See you later, Lois,” he had said before getting out. The elevator doors had closed behind him.

Shortly after that, Diana Stride had claimed that Clark was Superman. I had not believed her. Now I knew better. Had he really gone to Mayson then? Or had he lied about that as well?

Everyone around me stood up moving their chairs. The lecture was obviously over. I felt Clark’s hand first on my shoulder and then on my elbow. He urged me to get up and moved my chair into the right position. Then he guided me out of the room.

“Are you okay, Lois?” he asked anxiously.

“I have just realized how little honesty actually means to you,” I fired back without having actually been attacked.

“What?” He sounded confused.

“This was what the lecture was all about, wasn’t it? That we should be honest with each other?” I lashed out at him, at the same time wondering if the psychologist had actually been talking about that for the past half hour.

“Yes,” Clark replied tensely. “And I apologized, Lois.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that everything was all right again!” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’re leaving me just like that and I am supposed to simply accept it because you apologized?”

Angrily I turned on my heels. My hands clenched into fists while I desperately tried to hate him. That was the only way to endure all this. My fingers dug painfully deep into my palms, but that didn’t help much. My heart beat faster when I just thought about Clark. Why did he have such a power over me? The last dream hadn’t exactly helped to improve my situation.

“Mrs. White? A letter for you!” A voice roused me from my thoughts. A hotel employee was coming straight towards me. That was a good thing actually, because otherwise I might not have known that I was “Mrs. White”. Tardily I remembered that we were undercover.

I stood there and stared at her confused. The hotel employee smiled broadly at me. Her hair was curly and blonde. She reminded me of Mayson Drake. Even her smile looked just as stilted. She looked past me unobtrusively but still. I knew she had only eyes for Clark. Perhaps I should warn her.

“Thanks,” I said mechanically and attempted a smile but in vain.

I took the letter, and the blonde woman hurried away with a quick goodbye. For a moment I watched her leave, before I examined the letter in my hand. There was no return address, no stamp, nothing to tell me who had sent this letter. Most likely it was Perry. Who else knew we were here? This didn’t exactly fire my curiosity.

“Lois?” Clark said cautiously and took a step around me so he could look at me.

I kept my eyes fixed on the letter and did not look up. The letter was a more than welcome option to punish Clark. I turned my back on Clark and focused my whole attention on opening the envelope. My heart pounded furiously against my chest, with each beat protesting against my flimsy pretence of ignoring Clark.

“Lois, please,” Clark repeated, but I kept ignoring him and unfolded the paper. I tried hard to suppress the trembling of my fingers. How long could I go on like this?

Clark gave me the space I needed which made it impossible for me to despise him. Why did he do this to me? Why did he not keep me from occupying myself with a letter instead of him? He should be fighting!

My mouth went dry when I unfolded the letter and scanned the message that was pieced together from cutouts of a newspaper. I recognized the words, some of them probably written by me. The Daily Planet had its own very distinctive font. The words blurred before my eyes while I broke out in cold sweat.

<Would you like to keep your little secret?> the dark letters read.

Nothing more, no demand, only this sentence. My fingers were numb. I felt at the verge of fainting. Apparently I was not the only one who knew Clark’s secret, not anymore. What else could they be talking about? We had been stupid. After all we had known that some members of the hotel staff were blackmailing their customers.

“Lois, please, we need to talk.” Clark’s strong hands dug into my shoulders, and he made me look into his face again.

I just shook my head. Stunned I thought of the implied threat in my hands. But my lips were not moving. Hastily I scrunched up the letter. It happened so fast that I could not say for sure whether it was conscious reasoning or instinct. The letter seemed to burn my fingers. But I could not show it to Clark.

“I understand that you’re angry, Lois,” Clark tried to soothe me.

“Oh yeah?” I cried out. “Do you really know what is going on inside me?” I almost shouted. Clark winced. “How could you ever really understand?” I replied tartly. The threatening letter was still in my hands and all of a sudden felt unnaturally cold. Or was it my fingers? I had to tell Clark! He had to know what was at stake.

“Maybe you’re right,” Clark muttered ruefully. “Please, let’s not discuss this here,” he pleaded and gently ushered me out of the hall. I let it happen.

“Why have you never told me? Did you have so little faith in me, Clark?” I said past the thick lump in my throat. If Clark had been honest with me, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I was about to tell him exactly that — the words were already on the tip of my tongue. But I swallowed them. I could not confront Clark like this without showing him the ransom note. “Why have you never told me?” I repeated exhausted.

Clark just looked at me. A wrinkle appeared on his forehead, and his lips curved into a sad expression. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. It was not much that he offered me. But the realization hit me like a blow.

“That’s not what this is all about!” I gasped and tried in vain to keep my composure.

“Please, Lois, not here!” Clark’s eyes were wide with horror.

“There’s something else that you’re not telling me!” That was something I hadn’t even considered. I had been too busy fussing about Clark being Superman. Not once had it come to my mind that his distance had had nothing to do with that.

“Please not here,” Clark repeated pleadingly.

He grabbed my elbow and gently pulled me with him out of the hotel lobby. His steps were large, and he gave me little opportunity to keep up with him. Confused I stumbled after him. The tortured expression on his face made me nervous. I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. My stomach clenched painfully, and my heart pounded with fear.

Suddenly we were in front of the elevators. I could see in my partner’s face that he would rather have taken the stairs. Restless he shifted from one foot to the other. When we finally heard the elevator, he sighed with relief and almost dragged me into the box. He was so tense that his lips had grown thin, and his face was ashen.

“Clark …” I whispered breathlessly and without knowing what to say. I tasted bile and tried to suppress the nausea that was building up in my stomach.

“Lois …” Clark echoed and lips grew even thinner. He breathed deeply and apparently gathered all his courage before he spoke again. “You’re right, I didn’t tell you everything. I wanted to yesterday. But then it was a lot easier to conceal it. “

“What do you mean ‘easier’?” My voice cracked. “Why would it be easier lying to me?” I couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth.

“The truth … well, I’m afraid you would misinterpret the truth,” he said mysteriously and then withdrew into a corner of the elevator as if this would offer him a way to escape this conversation.

I wondered why he wasn’t already gone. Why did he make this so hard on himself when he could run off pretending that Superman was needed? Why didn’t he spare us this conversation and simply disappear? The mere thought only served to increase my nausea. What was Clark doing to me?

As the elevator reached the right floor, I was hurled out of my thoughts. Clark pushed himself off the wall as the doors slid open. I hurried to follow him down the hallway to the bedroom door where I would finally learn the truth.

I just was not so sure anymore whether I actually wanted to know it. As impatient as I had been up to this point, now my feet seemed to stick to the carpet. Part of me wanted to remain outside ignorant and able to dream of a happy end. I broke out in cold sweat. The hallway seemed to blur before my eyes.

While I was here, I still had hope. When I walked through that door, that could very well change for good. Beyond this door was potentially a life which I no longer wanted to spend with Clark. Was the truth really worth this kind of pain?

I swallowed and watched as Clark put the key card into the lock. A red light flashed, followed by a silent curse. Again he took the card and put it into the slot. About one second it was dubious whether the lock would open. It was a wonderful second in which everything seemed possible. Then a green light flashed…

Stunned with fear, I entered the room as Clark held the door for me. After just two steps whatever had been left of my courage was gone. I was ready to storm out of the room. Why should I endure even more pain? Clark could take a running jump for all I cared. I really could do without him. I had never really needed that hack. After all I was Mad Dog Lane.

My tongue remained motionless just like my legs. As a meek lamb I stood in the doorway until I felt his hand on my back. He gently pushed me forward, on and on. The door slammed shut behind me. We were alone. My heart was pounding like a steam hammer.

“The truth …,” Clark muttered in a hoarse voice and tentatively walked past me towards the window. He looked out and then turned to face me. He leaned on the windowsill and rested his head against the glass. “Do you remember Jason Trask and Bureau 39?” he finally asked, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.

I nodded although I did not quite understand where this was going. “How could I forget him?” I said with a shudder and took a step towards Clark. I wanted to shake him and make him spill the truth without stalling. “Why are we talking about him, Clark?” I asked impatiently but kept my hands still. He did not back away probably because he had his back up against the wall.

“When we were in their secret warehouse, I found something. A globe that represented Earth and as soon as I had touched it — Krypton.” Clark grimaced. He took a step towards me. It had been long since he had voluntarily come that close to me. Well, that was not quite right… I saw the sad look in his eyes, the look that now belonged to his face like the glasses and that stubborn lock of hair. A harsh remark died on my open lips.

“Later someone stole the globe.” He went on. “It contained messages for…” he paused briefly as if he was not sure what to say next. “…me.”

“That’s what this is all about? Those messages?” I asked incredulously, trying to imagine what kind of truth he was going to confess. “Don’t tell me you’re destroying our friendship because of a message in a globe!” My voice cracked with anger. I felt tears in my eyes and blinked them away. I helplessly started to hammer my fists down onto his chest. There was a finality to his words that scared the hell out of me. “What kind of reason is that?” I gasped while Clark gently grabbed my wrists to keep me from hurting myself.

“I learned where I came from and who my real parents were,” Clark said with an almost eerie calm. “It gave me answers to the all the questions that had been on my mind for so long,” Clark continued. “My father Jor-El had chosen this planet because I could grow up among people like one of them. There is no significant difference in our physiology …” Clark fell silent, and I saw him swallow.

He took another step towards me, and I held my breath as he loosened his grip around my wrists and gently covered my face. His thumb stroked along my mouth and brushed my lips. Then he leaned forward and placed a kiss on my mouth. It was barely perceptible, yet I was electrified.

“… except for one restriction,” he finally said, his words barely more than a whisper. “A Kryptonian man can never be with a woman from Earth. He would kill her.” He stared at his feet. Then he released me and turned away, putting his hands in his pockets.

I stared at him and tried to understand what he had just told me. Actually I was none the wiser. Stunned I stood before him and watched Clark as he started pacing the hotel room. Again and again he glanced at me ever so briefly. Each time our eyes locked, he immediately averted his gaze embarrassed.

“I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter. After all I was more than happy being your friend. I couldn’t wish for more, now could I?” he went on softly and stopped for a moment. He looked at me and shrugged. “My whole life I had known I was different, and I coped. So why not this time…But I want more, Lois.”

The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes conveyed all the feelings that I myself had desperately tried to hide from him for the past weeks. My mouth had gone dry, and my tongue stuck to the palate. There was nothing I could possibly say.

“Suddenly all I’m thinking about is what my being different means for our relationship. Ever since I met you, I’ve dreamt that one day maybe we would be more than just friends. But that is impossible,” he added almost rudely. “Look, Lois, I’ve tried. I’ve tried really hard to make this work — but I don’t see how I can.”

With a jerk he turned back to the window and stared outside. The repulsive aura he had gradually built up during the past months was back in place. It was squelching my impulse to try and comfort him. I was still dumbfounded. Whatever I might have been expecting to hear — certainly not this.

“You mean …” I gasped, not sure if I had actually drawn the right conclusion.

“I cannot sleep with you, Lois,” Clark said unequivocally. “Please don’t believe that my attraction to you is just a physical one. I am in love with you, and making love to you is just one aspect of the relationship I had in mind, but…” He took a deep breath and lapsed into silence, not willing to complete the sentence.

He did not have to. Just because the idea was taboo, it automatically became quite dominant. I had been down the same road. Hard as I had tried not to think about Clark or imagine what could be, Clark had been with me all the time. In the morning, in the evening, and even at night.

All of a sudden he was with me, reached for my hand, and led me to the sofa. Clark had slept on it, and it still seemed to smell like him. He gently pulled me with him as he sat down beside me.

“In my dreams I often came to visit you at night, sat down on your bed, and kissed you. Sometimes we got beyond that point,” he breathed deeply and paused. I could not but remember my own erotic fantasies. My heart started to pound when I felt his breath on my skin. I was as close to Clark as I had been in my dreams.

“Many nights I lie awake because I’m afraid to lose myself in these dreams,” Clark confessed after a while, and his voice sounded tortured as he continued. Only the loving expression in his eyes softened the hurtful tone.”I keep praying that you get out of my dreams. But I just cannot break this last bond.”

I listened to him and had the strange feeling that he was voicing my thoughts exactly. I had been having the same dreams for weeks. Clark sat down on my bed, and so often he had seemed to be about to confess something. Could it be …? My breath quickened involuntarily. The very thought was preposterous. How could Clark and I share our dreams?

“Do you understand now why I have to leave, Lois?” Clark asked quietly. His expression was stoic almost impenetrable. But I knew that a hurricane must be raging inside him — just as it was raging in me.

No, I did not understand why he had to go. I wanted to scream at him and shake him and force him to love me. I could not let a globe destroy my life. We had just found each other!

I gulped. “We could find a solution, Clark,” I choked out. My words sounded hollow. How could there be a solution? Hadn’t Clark already tried to find one? And I had called him a traitor, in my thoughts anyway. My stomach was tied in knots.

“I’ve tried, Lois,” Clark said and with a jolt raised to his feet. The sofa shook at the sudden loss of weight, showing what strength Clark hid from the rest of the world. “I kept weighing every option, desperately trying to figure a way out of this mess. First, I was your friend, then I tried to keep my distance from you. Good grief, I’ve even started a relationship with Mayson in order to drive you away from me.” Shame was written on his face.

“But Clark …” I pleaded, not knowing what there was left to say or do. He had not loved Mayson. The relief mingled with the bitter taste of pity for her. Even Mayson didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But I did not want to think about her. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way that Clark had missed.

“There’s no use, Lois,” he summarized the result of my consideration. “I cannot go on like this,” he said desperately. “Please forgive me.” The window flew open. A gust of wind swept through the room, and then Clark was gone.

***

The engine roared as I hit the accelerator. My jeep lurched and jerked forward. H.G. Wells nervously dug his fingers into his bowler hat, which he held in both hands. He looked at me uncertainly. I only saw him from the corner of my eyes. But I had no intention of paying any attention to the sensitivities of some lunatic. Why had I taken him with me anyway? I did not know exactly. Actually everything that had happened since Clark had run out on me for good was blurry.

“Ms. Lane,” Wells gasped in horror and stared at the road while I drove straight back towards Metropolis.

“Do you wanna get out here?” I offered him and hit the brakes. I was pushed into the belt and felt the jolt as the car came to a halt. Impatiently I leaned over him and opened the door. “Your decision. I didn’t ask you to come along.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Ms. Lane. It is of utmost importance that I talk to Mr. Kent,” H.G. Wells said in his nasal English accent. “I’ve been trying for days to contact him.”

“Have you ever thought about using the phone?” I snapped, slamming the passenger door shut, when Wells made no attempt to get out. “What kind of world-changing things could be worth following us to that hotel?” I asked gruffly. I was annoyed that the little man with the bowler hat had actually made me curious enough to let him join me on my ride back into town.

“Well, basically I hope that he will tell me something,” Wells replied, panting with fear as I revved up the engine again. He used a handkerchief to dab the sweat from his forehead. “Really, I should be getting used to this kind of vehicle …” he muttered confused and swallowed hard.

“If you want to stay in this car, you’re gonna have to tell me more than that …” I blackmailed him.

“Really, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ms. Lane,” Wells writhed unwillingly. Our paths had crossed in the lobby just when I had wanted to check out. After all there was not much sense in pretending to be a married couple when I was completely alone. “It’s impossible to predict the consequences…”

“Stop this nonsense, Mr. Wells. You may have some resemblance to this writer granted. But I know for a fact that he’s been dead for nearly fifty years,” I replied sharply. “What am I doing here? I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking you back to Metropolis.” Involuntarily I stepped on the brakes again.

“Maybe because I’m your last hope?” Wells hastened to say while the car slowed down. “All right, listen to me, Ms. Lane,” H.G. Wells sighed heavily and again wiped his forehead. “I’m pretty sure you know by now that Clark Kent is actually Superman.”

“What?”

The car stopped with screeching tires. I turned to Wells. His face was almost green. He clutched the door handle with sweaty fingers.

“How do you know?” I asked horrified.

I thought back to the ransom note. Was I about to lead those criminals to Clark? Not for the first time that day I tasted bile. My heart pounded. Ever since I had picked myself up after Clark had left, I had been mad at him to the point of fuming. But now I was scared for him, and the fear was clutching at my heart, holding it in an icy grip.

“Because it’s true what I told you,” Wells said emphatically and a tad angrily — which was rather surprising for the composed Englishman. “I’m H.G. Wells, the author who didn’t only write about time machines. I also built one.” He straightened, and for a moment, his face gleamed with pride. Wells cleared his throat, embarrassed, and shrank back. “I have traveled into the future and found a world where everyone lived in peace.” He took the glasses that were fogged with sweat and started to clean them with his handkerchief. I would have loved to shove the glasses out of his hands. “This Utopia was founded by Superman and Lois Lane. People adore this couple like no one else in the history of mankind.”

He made a significant pause before he put his glasses back on. “But when I last visited the future, Utopia was destroyed. Or rather had never even existed because you and Superman had never become a couple. I could not figure out what had happened to change the future. But I would bet that Tempus is responsible. “

“Tempus,” I asked surprised. “Who’s that?” Was that actually the first thing that came to my mind? What had Wells said? “Superman and I? Utopia?” I realized at the last moment that I had said that aloud. “What are you talking about?”

I shot Wells a brief glance. He did not really look like someone who took perverse pleasure in torturing others. On the other hand, was he not doing exactly that?

“What do you want?” I snapped. “Do you enjoy this sick little game of yours?”

“Certainly not, Ms. Lane,” Wells said unnervingly calm. “The situation is serious.”

“You must be crazy, Wells,” I lashed out at him and clutched at the steering wheel to keep myself from becoming physically aggressive. Utopia! When had he come up with that? Superman and I? Instinctively I felt a spark of hope. Could Clark be wrong? I didn’t want to indulge in that idea. The inevitable disappointment would be more than I could bear.

My heartbeat calmed down slowly. Whatever this Mr. Wells was up to, I did not think he was the one who had sent me the letter. At least my gut was telling me that. I had to concentrate on the blackmailer. Wells fantasies were none of my concern.

There was someone out there who knew Clark’s secret. And whoever that was could be much harder to overcome than the grumpy Englishman.

“Tempus is a man with an unfortunate propensity for violence. It’s his aim in life to destroy the relationship between Superman and you and thus Utopia,” Wells replied patiently. “He…”

“Oh, give me a break,” I cut Wells short. I just could not stop myself. “Why would this Tempest…”

“Tempus …” Wells corrected me instantly.

“Tempus.” I mocked his accent. “So, why would he want us apart?” Wells did not flinch at my critical glance. He even stopped fumbling with his glasses. “We are nothing more than a couple of the millions on this planet.”

“A very significant couple, Ms. Lane,” Wells pointed out and then cleared his throat hastily and blushed. “I should not give away too much.”

“Then you tell me one thing, Wells. How do you think Tempus managed to destroy Utopia?” I asked impatiently.

I wanted to get to Clark. There were more important things to do than to argue with a strange Englishman. My foot twitched into the direction of the accelerator. Why had I taken Wells with me? The truth was that he had caught me completely off balance. The receptionist had given me another envelope.

<Needless to say, we are expecting your service in return for keeping your secret. As a reporter you certainly know some juicy details about the political elite of our country …> the second message had said.

“I had hoped that Mr. Kent could tell me,” Wells answered the question I had almost forgotten.

“You know what, Wells? Get out. I don’t need anyone interfering with my life,” I said curtly and leaned forward again to open the door. “I have no time for those figments of your imagination. You aren’t the only one who has figured out that Clark is Superman. I’m being blackmailed. Clark and I must find them before someone uses that knowledge. “

Wells looked at me aghast. “That’s terrible,” he said flatly and once more started fiddling with his glasses. “But believe me, Ms. Lane, there are more pressing problems. The world can handle knowing the truth about Superman’s identity. Utopia on the other hand … “

“The world, perhaps … But I don’t believe that Clark could deal with that,” I replied icily. “His life is already mixed up as it is, even without everyone knowing his secret.”

Again I was sick. After all I had known that Clark had been compromised. Why had I not stopped him confessing all his secrets in the hotel room? Why had I forced him to do it in the first place? Why …? I closed my eyes. I could see the last day and a half before my mind’s eye in all its gruesome details. Clark had so often pleaded with me to drop the matter. He had been right. If I hadn’t forced him to tell me, if I had understood his silent message, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.

I felt Wells curious glances even though my eyes were closed. He cleared his throat. Involuntarily I glanced at him. His mustache twitched, and his breath quickened. It almost seemed as he wanted to break free from this British primness.

“Ms. Lane, you must tell me what you know,” he urged desperately.

“I haven’t the slightest idea how your Tempus could be involved in all this,” I scolded Wells. “Go rescue that dream world of yours somewhere else. I’ve got to find out how I can help Clark here and now. And I seriously doubt you’re willing to assist me.” My voice was louder than necessary. Tears burned in my eyes, but I would not cry. I had already put so much effort in keeping back those tears that I could not budge now.

“You still don’t believe me,” Wells said disappointedly. “And why would you.” He laughed joylessly. “I can’t believe that Tempus has actually won this time,” he murmured softly, biting his lip. “So many times we have beaten him — and now …” His voice sounded hoarse. Discouraged he dropped his head and stared at the bowler hat in his hands.

I suddenly felt pity for the little Englishman. It must have been difficult trying to contact Clark. But I did not quite understand what goal he pursued. Was he just plain crazy, or was there more to it? Whatever it was, it had to wait until I had found Clark.

Again I hit the accelerator, getting back onto the highway. I turned on the radio to distract myself. It crackled briefly before loud pop music filled the car. Wells was visibly shaken by the sounds. I was tempted to turn off the music again, but I was not keen on talking. I could hardly bear this light, bubbly melody.

The radio continued to play, and I focused my attention on the road. Bushes and trees became an indistinct green wall on both sides of the road as we rushed through the seemingly endless landscape. The first song was followed by a second, slightly melancholic one. Soon I had almost forgotten about the man claiming to be an already dead author who wanted to save a world that did not even exist.

<The breaking news> a serious voice interrupted the program that stood in stark contrast to the light music of the station. <The City Council has decided to revitalize the old harbor — better known as Suicide Slum. The plans include the demolition and rebuilding of some factory buildings. The goal is to turn this area into ‘a center of cultural life,’ so said the spokesman Will McGlee.>

H.G. Wells shot me a hopeful glance as I briefly looked over to him. Immediately I turned my attention back on the road, and the Englishman closed his mouth again without having accomplished anything. His enthusiasm to save this mysterious utopia had obviously diminished.

<Superman has called a press conference for tomorrow morning,> the speaker continued. <So far he has not yet announced what will be the purpose of this conference. Reportedly…>

It hit me like a bolt from the blue. That particular press conference had been weeks ago, but I saw Diana Stride before my eyes as if it had been only yesterday. It was almost as if I was there again. And in my vision I saw Clark in front of a pack of reporters.

<You’ve certainly watched the recent feature on Superman broadcasted by “Top Copy”. Now there’s not much sense in denying it. What Ms. Stride said is the truth. Over the past few years I’ve been leading a double life. I’m Superman.> I heard Clark say. In a blink the vision was gone

It was not right. Clark had not outted himself then, but he had somehow managed to convince everyone that Diana Stride was wrong. My pulse raced. Alarmed I turned off the radio. My breath came in panting gasps, and my hands were shaking as I clutched at the steering wheel. Distraught I confused the accelarator and the brakes. The car sped up again before it finally came to a halt. Basically the newscaster had said nothing of importance …

“No, no …” I whispered hoarsely, shaking my head to banish the vision which had expired in front of my eyes.

It had been like one of those dreams that Clark and I had apparently shared. I had no idea how this could be possible, but it did not matter. In my heart I knew this press conference was going to serve a certain purpose. Did Clark know about the blackmail? Blood roared in my ears. What a silly question! He was Superman. Had I seriously believed that I would be able to keep this from him?

“… what’s the matter with you?” Wells words were faint as if they came through a thick layer of cotton wool in my ears. I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Ms. Lane. Do you feel all right?”

“What?” I mumbled and looked at H.G. Wells worried face. He took his hand off my shoulder as if he had burned himself.

“Excuse me,” he apologized embarrassed. “I thought you hadn’t heard me.”

***

“So you think that Clark will tell the world who he really is?” H.G. Wells murmured in disbelief and shook his head. “I can’t believe that,” he added. He nervously fiddled with his glasses, belying his own words. “Be…besides, how would you know what this press conference will be about?”

I snorted impatiently. “This is what I’m trying to explain. There is this …” I hesitated not sure what to call it. Uncertainly I stared out of the window as if someone out there would be able to help me. But the area was deserted. “… this connection between us,” I said and then turned back to Wells.

When had I actually started to trust the eccentric Englishman? But the alert eyes behind his round wire-rimmed glasses left little doubt that Wells was on my side. He blinked, and his mustache wiggles as he listened to me attentively. Watching him confused me more than anything.

“I don’t quite understand it myself,” I added defensively. “It’s just … I feel Clark has thought about doing this. I’m certain this…this vision — for the lack of a better word — came from him.” Suddenly I felt the irresistible urge to rush to Clark. My eyes focused on the small D for Drive on the automatic gear-shift lever. It was just a little movement …

But Wells had placed his hand on my steering wheel and held it tightly. The attempt at stopping me was ridiculous though. After all I had to start the engine before I could … Maybe I would arrive in Metropolis just in time, if I…! It was not yet too late to talk to him! Again my right hand tickled with the need to move. But what was I supposed to tell Clark?

“He has thought about doing it?” Wells echoed surprised and brought me back to reality. “I’ve always believed that his telepathy would work only with other Kryptonians,” he said as a matter of course, scratching his head. That Clark and I might be sharing our thoughts did not seem to trouble him in the least. Other Kryptonians? I felt kind of dizzy. It was a good thing that I had not yet started the car.

“Telepathy …” I gasped confused and completely forgot about the gear-shift. “Clark is telepathic?” Actually I should not have been so surprised. It was just another detail Clark had kept from me. The thought was immensely depressing.

Well’s expression was serious as he nodded. “Indeed, he is. But I don’t think he is aware of it,” he added in an attempt to soothe me. “You know it’s the Kryptonian way of communicating.”

“How do you know so much about these things? After all Clark is the last survivor of Krypton, isn’t he?” I asked skeptically. I sounded foolish like I was desperate to prove that there was something I actually knew about my partner.

Wells cleared his throat uncomfortable. His cheeks flushed. “That’s not quite … no, I’m going too far. I must not tell her about the future …” he muttered to himself before he turned back to me. “We need to deal with more important things. Do you know why Clark would disclose his identity?”

“There are other surviving Kryptonians?” I asked surprised and immediately changed back into reporter mode. I bit my tongue. Was that really important?

“Yes …” said Wells reluctantly. “But that really doesn’t matter now. I wish I had just kept my mouth shut.”

I decided not to dig further. Guiltily I tried to remember where we had left off. Why was I not able to stick to the real issue when it was all I could think about? I let my eyes wander back into the distance. The car was parked on a lonely country road with grassland all around. A few cows lazily looked over chewing on their grass. This conversation suddenly seemed quite absurd. Time travel, Kryptonians … That was all out of this world.

“So, why would Clark want to reveal his secret?” Wells repeated his question. A cow had lifted her head as if she was interested in my answer. She turned the ears over to us.

I could hardly keep from staring at her. “He certainly knows about the blackmail,” I replied, feeling like my throat was contracting.

There was so much more. Superman had once told me that he could not commit his life to just one human being. It had taken a long time for me to realize that he was right. If there was only one person who was obviously close to the hero, then this person would become a target. Then Superman had an Achilles heel that — unlike kryptonite — everyone knew about.

“He’s doing what he couldn’t do a couple of months ago — he is destroying Clark,” I finally said, thinking I might choke on those words. My knuckles became white as I clutched at the steering wheel. I forced myself to let go of it. “He’s giving up on his last chance at leading a normal life,” I added slowly and deliberately leaned back in my seat. All my muscles were painfully cramped.

I felt tears in my eyes that I could no longer hold back. No wonder that Clark had been so testy throughout the past couple of weeks. He finally admitted to himself what he had known from the moment he had heard his father’s message. He would never have the life he had always dreamed of. When we had been in Smallville, I had seen how happy he was being just Clark. As Superman he had never been this relaxed, this serene.

“But why?” Wells breathed in horror.

“This is Clark’s business,” I almost snapped. Embarrassed I stared at the floor between my knees. The mat was full of crumbs. Lately I had eaten far too many chocolate chip cookies and double fudge bars in this car. “He wouldn’t want me to divulge his secrets just like that.”

But how much damage could I possibly cause? Our lives had completely gotten out of control anyway. Clark was about to tell the world who he really was. Could it seriously be getting any worse?

“Please tell me why he’s doing that! I met Clark Kent in more than one universe,” Wells said desperately, blushing at that. He nervously cleared his throat before he went on, muttering an apology. His fingers gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles stood out white. “I realize how absurd this must sound. But you both have overcome so many obstacles, I mean … uh … you will overcome many obstacles.”

With his free hand Wells had conjured a handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from his forehead. His mustache twitched while he probably wondered what he should say next.

“I don’t know what ‘universes’ you’re talking about,” I said, using my fingers to indicate quotation marks. “But in this universe there is no future for Clark and me.”

I sighed. Suddenly there was this uneasy feeling again that had taken hold of me back in the hotel suite. Ever since Clark had told me about his father’s message, I had tried hard to forget that he would never again be part of my life. At least not in the way I dreamed of. But I couldn’t keep pushing this nasty thought away. Clark was absolutely right. A clean cut was the only way to make this nightmare bearable. Why would I want to stop him?

“What do you mean, no future together?” Wells gasped distraught. “You two are soul mates; nothing could change that!”

“Soul mates?” I shook my head. “What does that mean?” I felt a glimmer of long lost hope. A soul mate… that is what Clark was for me, had been for me, whatever. But that was a dangerous, forbidden territory.

H.G. Wells was merciless, though. “You are destined to be a couple, anywhere and at any time, in every life,” he said with dignity.

“I wasn’t aware that Buddhism had been a common philosophy in England in the late nineteenth century,” I replied moodily, instantly regretting my words. Wells might be crazy, but he did not deserve to be treated like that. “I’m …”

“It’s all right, Ms. Lane. I certainly understand your concerns. But I’m afraid this discussion is going nowhere.” He opened the passenger door, got out, and put on his hat. I had not realized he had been holding it the whole time. “Come and see for yourself, Ms. Lane.” Suddenly he held something in his hand. I heard a high pitched tone accompanied by a flash of light.

I squinted as I looked through the windshield. There was… well actually it was indescribable. A dark frame floated in mid air. It surrounded a shimmering blue surface that resembled water. It looked artificial, like a cheap trick — and yet frighteningly real. The appearance was similar to a window but at the same time looked like something else entirely. It had opened up right next to my car and stared back at me.

“Come on, Ms. Lane,” Wells said, as his voice coming through the fog in my mind. “We will make a trip in time.”

“Where?” I whispered silently. Against my better judgment, I climbed out of the car.

***

The cold crept into my body as I followed Wells through the frame. A tingling sensation spread through my body until I felt numb all over. Panic rose in me because I could not breathe. I did not see anything as I was falling into a bottomless void. Within seconds the nightmare was over, and the panic subsided.

Beyond the window was a different world. It took a while until I realized where we were. I looked around in astonishment. I was in Metropolis even though I could not explain how. But the city was barely recognizable. My city seemed cold and gray as if any color had been thoroughly eradicated. Maybe it was because of the thick clouds covering the sky. But there was more to it than a whim of the weather. An eerie silence filled the streets as if someone had muted the sound. The only noise came from the cars that rushed past us. People scurried about the sidewalks, hurrying as if someone was after them. The step through the window had been small, the jump huge.

“Where are we, Wells?” I asked anxiously and continued to scan the area. I saw fear wherever I looked. It billowed through the streets like a thick fog and also began to take possession of me.

An electoral poster, ripped and sprayed with graffiti, looked down at us from across the street. I did not recognize the politician. His eyes were sharp, his mouth twisted in anger, and he clenched his fists. He ran for mayor. I could not imagine that back in my Metropolis a person like him would have had any chance at winning this election. But it suited the mood.

“It’s the year … oh my goodness …” Wells stammered, obviously confused. Then he looked at a little box in his hand. “I must have made a mistake,” he murmured incredulously. “This is the year 2034, Ms. Lane,” Wells said depressed. “I cannot believe that the city has already changed so much.”

Wells frantically looked around. His gaze remained fixed on a newsstand. He hesitated briefly, then reached for my arm, and pulled me with him. I did not protest. If it had not been for the wind in my face, I would have been convinced to be dreaming. But my gut feeling told me that this was real. We were in Metropolis.

The newspaper salesman looked at us suspiciously. His hair was disheveled, his beard unkempt. He looked dangerous. A scar across his left eye marked his face. With a pounding heart I looked at the papers. Concerning newspapers very little had changed. Any lingering doubts were thrust aside by the date that was written on every front page — April 2034. That was impossible!

It was a quick mathematical exercise. “But Superman has to be somewhere,” I objected and took one of the newspapers. No headline provided, however, an indication of Clark’s whereabouts. Sure, he would be about sixty years old, but …

“Superman!” The salesman spat on the rough ground, and his body shook with laughter as he looked at H.G. Wells and me “What planet are you two from? Well, the day he outed himself as a … what had it been … a reporter, that was the first step in his downfall,” the man said contemptuously. “Later he just flew the coop. Yeah, some Superman he was.” He spat on the ground again, as if to emphasize his low opinion of the former hero. “Are you some of these idiots who are yearning for the good old days?”

I hastened to pay for the newspaper and pulled Wells away from the stand. He looked crestfallen, overwhelmed by the amount of swearwords the salesman knew. Wells’ eyes were wide open and he looked around, afraid that someone was going to follow us. But the seller had long lost his interest in us. My heart pounded. Metropolis was going to be like this? I could not believe my eyes, but I held the Daily Planet in my hands, and that was all the proof I needed.

“This is what Metropolis becomes after Clark actually reveals his secret?” I asked shocked and studied the paper. I still had difficulties to believe the date. It was actually the 15th April 2034. No one was able to create such a perfect illusion. And who could have changed a city like that? “This is the future?”

Wells nodded seriously. “This is a future we have to change, Ms. Lane,” he said softly. “And it’s worse than I had expected. This is just the beginning. Between your Metropolis and this one, little more than thirty years have passed. The people still remember Superman — but that memory will fade.” The strange Englishman had stopped walking. “Something has destroyed Superman and I have no idea what it is. If you know something, then please tell me.”

I looked around again indecisively. Clark had told me everything. But how could Wells change any of that. After all he couldn’t change that Clark was Kryptonian.

“Please, Ms. Lane,” Wells urged again. “Oh, I wish I could show you Utopia. It is a beautiful place where there is neither need nor poverty. Your love was an ideal for so many people. Your descendants have done so much to help people. And so many have joined them … “ he enthused.

“Our descendants?” I asked in surprise. “What do you mean, Mr. Wells?”

“Well, the children you and Clark were going to have,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And indeed it was …

“But we cannot have children,” I replied flatly and had to swallow. It was the first time I said it. “Clark is Kryptonian, and I am human. Clark’s biological father has warned him that he cannot build such a relationship.”

Wells blushed and stared at me. My stomach tightened when I realized that I had just told a stranger Clark’s most intimate secret. If our relationship had not already been over, I would have destroyed it in this very moment. I had the overwhelming desire just to run off. But that was impossible — I would be stuck in a time that was not mine.

“What?” Wells asked puzzled and forgot all his English rules of politeness. “What are you saying? You and Clark not allowed to have children? But that’s nonsense,” he became agitated. “Where did you get that idea?”

“From Clark’s father Jor El,” I replied defiantly. “What do you know about this whole issue anyway, Wells?” I hissed at him. “You are nothing more than a dead writer. Probably just my fantasy to help me bear this… You …” That was all I managed to say before Wells suddenly pressed a button again and pushed me through the opening frame.

“I’ll find Tempus. Although I don’t know how, he has to be the one behind this lie. Clark and you will have many children, Lois. Tell him that!” It was the last thing I heard H.G. Wells say. Then the world went black around me. Again I could not breathe, my body was numb, but the panic did not come. And again seconds later everything was over.

***

I found myself standing in front of Clark’s apartment. I was not sure whether I had just been dreaming. How had I come here? Where was my car? Confusing pictures replayed before my mind’s eye. Had I actually traveled into the future? With a writer named H.G. Wells? The more I tried to focus on that memory, the blurrier it became. All I was left with was the knot in my stomach and a paralyzing fear. Cold sweat covered my forehead as I raised my trembling hand.

Never before had it been so difficult to knock on that door. The few inches between my fist and the wood were almost insurmountable. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. Perhaps Clark was not there. Why should he? My story would sound like that of a nutcase. Time travel, dead writers. I must have lost my mind. Startled I flinched as my fist crashed against the wood over and over again.

“Clark! Open the door!” I heard my voice like a stranger’s. “Clark, please!” What was I doing here? He certainly was already at the press conference, sealing our fate for good. “Clark!” My voice broke, choked by hot tears running down my cheeks. “Cla …”

I stopped when I suddenly looked into his face. I caught my breath. In jeans and T-shirt, he looked simply stunning. His constant companions — the glasses — were missing. Even if I had seen him without them countless times, he seemed like a stranger. Clark and Superman in one face, a very sad face.

“Lois …” Clark greeted me in surprise. “What … what are you doing here?”

“Preventing you from telling everyone the truth,” I replied thickly. My voice did not obey me.

“How do you know that …” he whispered hoarsely. His eyes were wide, and he stumbled a few steps back and nearly fell down the stairs. I followed him, not sure where this conversation would lead us.

“There’s this connection between us, Clark,” I began confused. “We share our dreams.” I could tell from the look on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about. I hurried to continue. “This dream you told me about. In which you sit on my bed — I have had it too. Earlier today you imagined what would have happened if you had revealed your secret when Diana Stride had found out about you.”

The words simply fell from my mouth and plopped down right in front of his feet.

What chance did Clark have to make any sense of them when even I did not quite understand what I was talking about? For a while we just stood there, staring at each other mutely, separated by all the things that had been said between us. There was so much more than just my tangled sentences. Clark finally took a few steps back and slumped down on his sofa. He tiredly rubbed his eyes before he finally looked back at me again.

“I actually thought about it, Lois,” he admitted softly.

“You didn’t just think about it, you called a press conference,” I protested vehemently.

He just nodded.

“Why Clark? Why do you want to give up on everything?” I shouted at him as more tears ran down my cheeks. I did not care. I threw my jacket off my shoulders, ready to fight. “Only because of the blackmailing? You’ve dealt with far more difficult situations!”

“You know it’s not just about the blackmailing, Lois,” he said calmly, an empty look on his face.

“So you do know about it,” I snapped angrily. “You have known it all along and just ran off to settle the matter on your own. Some partner you are! Have you even considered how I might be feeling?” I yelled at him furiously and went for him.

He remained sitting on the couch, not even flinching at my outbreak. His calm demeanor instantly took the wind out of my sails.

“It’s the reasonable thing to do once you think about it,” he said softly.

“That’s nonsense,” I disagreed with him. “Reasonable would be to put a stop to their game. You’re Superman for God’s sake. “

“I don’t need to be Superman to do that,” he objected, pointing at the small table beside his sofa. There was a laptop sitting on it that I hadn’t even noticed. A letter was lying next to it, addressed to Perry. I knew it was a resignation letter. My stomach cramped painfully. I turned away.

“The article is almost finished,” Clark said calmly. “The next counseling they’re going to have is with a defense lawyer.” A very brief smile flashed across his face and disappeared immediately when I looked at him.

“When did you write that?” I shot back at him furiously. Clark winced and stared at me with wide eyes. “Were you going to tell me about it? Or were you going to keep me in suspense. They know your secret, and you aren’t the least bit worried?” I shouted at him. “You did everything you could to keep this from me! And now you’re simply going to tell everyone?”

“I’ve sent the article to you first. Perry has promised to wait until you’ve edited my copy,” Clark ignored my objection as if he had not even listened. “You can also work here if you want to. I …” He got up from the sofa and barely looked at me. He seemed uncomfortable around me; his expression was tense and very sad.

“Where are you going, Clark?” I asked and stepped in his way. “You’re not going to leave me just like that.” I felt tears in my eyes. That was what he always did. And what was I supposed to do about it anyway? Still, I did not flinch.

“There is nothing more to say, Lois,” he replied quietly.

“And what do you think will change, once they know your secret?” I interjected.

“I won’t tell anyone. It would only put you in danger, you and my parents,” Clark said tersely, almost as if he had never seriously considered it. I knew better. Still I was relieved, at least a little.

“And what will you do then?” I wanted to know, still determined not to leave without getting some answers.

“Superman will announce that he is leaving the city. And Clark will cease to exist,” he said gravely. His lips had become small, and the muscles in his jaws were tight.

“But … but you’re Clark.” It was obvious. And yet I had never seen it quite so clearly. Clark was Superman. But above all he was Clark. Clark was the one who had a real life, friends, and hopes. Superman was the only means to provide Clark a real life. “How can you abandon this?”

“Clark doesn’t exist without you, Lois. Without you there wouldn’t even be Superman,” he gulped, and suddenly I felt his hand on my cheek. It was this familiar and so dearly missed gesture. He gently ran his thumb across my lips and wiped away the tears that covered my cheeks. “Maybe I’ll be able to continue to be Superman somewhere out there. I’m afraid, Clark is already lost. “

It could not be true! “And what about the blackmail?” I tried to awaken his fighting spirit. He could not give up so easily.

“They know nothing,” Clark said quietly. “They were reaching until the reaction of their victims told them where to dig. Then they start bugging the rooms. They came too late.” I gasped. Relief mingled with … I was not sure what to call it. Rage? The feeling was not palpable. Everything was so confusing.

“It’s time to say good-bye, Lois,” Clark continued, and I saw him swallow once again. “I don’t want to lose you, but I see no other way,” he said seriously. I could see that he was suffering as I was.

My heart clenched until I felt I could no longer breathe. How could I ever let go of him? What would I do if he stayed? There would always be this invisible line we could never cross! The message from Jor El suddenly seemed so much more real than a time traveler. I was behaving ridiculously. Why had I even come here? Clark was right. It was a clean cut. I had lost Clark months ago — admitting to that could only help us both.

“Someone’s manipulated the message from Jor El,” I cried desperately, grasping Clark’s shoulder to make him look at me. “If you go through with this, you’re going to destroy Superman. That’s exactly what he wants.” I dug my fingers deep into his shoulder until they began to ache. On the one hand I was desperate to make him see that not all hope was lost, but on the other hand, I was not sure I actually wanted him. Not after what he had done to me. Still I was here. Did any of this make sense?

“Lois, what are you talking about?” Clark said, watching me with growing concern.

Suddenly it was as if a dam had broken. I sputtered my story, beginning with H.G. Wells. The words followed one another so quickly that I was surprised what I remembered. The ransom note, the wild car ride, the journey in time. I did not even take the time to draw a breath.

Clark was silent and listened attentively. His expression gave no clue as to what he was thinking. When I finished, I was out of breath. It seemed to me as if I had actually lived through all that again. The adrenaline rush was almost as intense.

“You realize that this all sounds pretty crazy,” Clark said after a while.

“No crazier than a flying Kryptonian,” I said lightly despite myself.

At least I elicited a smile. It reminded me of the good old days when Clark and I had been best friends. Involuntarily, a surge of happiness coursed through my body, warming me from within. It was all too fleeting.

“All I’m asking of you is that you let yourself be examined, Clark,” I added in a sudden twinge of hope. “Someone must be able to find out if it’s true what Jor El said.”

Clark’s gaze was inscrutable and his jaw tense. I felt cold again. What if he had done this long ago? My stomach tightened. When Clark opened his mouth, I would have loved to cover my ears. My fingers were numb; my skin prickled uncomfortably. I dreaded his answer.

“Lois, please don’t do that,” he pleaded softly. “Please don’t raise any false hopes. There is no point in trying to convince me otherwise,” he said determinedly. “Jor El has sent me this message, why — and most importantly how — would someone be able to manipulate it? This globe has traveled through space!”

I had expected that answer. Still, it was a cold, sobering shower. Stunned I stood in front of Clark and did not know what to do. Was I not just trying to fool myself? Clark was right. The Kryptonians had to have possessed an advanced technology. How could someone from Earth change that message? And why? Just to destroy our relationship? That was absurd.

“Why are you so keen on giving up hope, Clark?” I shouted at him against all reason. “Maybe there’s a way. We just have to find it!”

“Do you really believe that I haven’t thought about this?” he said harshly. “For months I’ve been thinking about little else. And I’m trying not to lose hope. You know where this has led us, Lois.” He turned his back on me embarrassed. “I didn’t exactly treat you like you meant anything to me.”

His voice suddenly sounded different. Quiet and bitter. Reluctantly, he turned back to me. The anger was gone from his face. Gently he looked at me.

“After all that has happened between us, it’s too late, Lois. I’ve pushed you from me, I had a relationship with Mayson. How can I expect you to forgive me?” he asked quietly.

“Because I love you,” I replied, wincing at my own words. It was true. I had gone through hell. But I still loved him. “I want you to free yourself from this nightmare, Clark.” Why was I so sure that he could? Had H.G. Wells actually convinced me? Or the time travel, which I had most likely just imagined?

“I never thought about second-guessing Jor El’s word,” Clark said after a while. “For months I spent my time trying to get my life back under control.”

“I think I would have done the same,” I replied quietly. “Will you do it?”

“I’m afraid”, Clark admitted softly.

“Me too.” I reached out for his hand and covered it. For once he did not flinch. “After all I’ve been through with Lex and Paul and Claude… I didn’t think I would ever be able to fall in love again. But I did — with you. Despite all odds. I don’t want to give up on you without fighting, Clark.”

His eyes rested on me while I spoke, never wavering. “I never thought I would feel like I belonged somewhere. But when I first saw you, it was like I had finally found a home. It kills me to think that I can never truly be yours.” His voice broke.

“Then give us a chance, Clark,” I begged.

He merely nodded and then squared his shoulders. I saw the tremor in his arms as he took the phone in his hand.

“Who are you calling?” I asked curiously and all of a sudden incredibly nervous.

“Dr. Klein.”

***

A few weeks later…

“Lois?” His voice was gentle and affectionate. My heart skipped a beat and then suddenly started pounding madly in my chest. I raised my head. Clark’s lips twitched into a smile, basking the newsroom in light like a sunbeam in dark woods. “Coffee?” He asked softly, holding out a cup for me.

With a sigh I pushed the files on my desk aside. An aromatic scent emanated from the cup he offered me. Graciously I took it. The taste was even better than the smell. Clark cautiously took a sip of his own coffee and sat down on the edge of my desk. Fascinated I watched the play of his muscles underneath his shirt; I saw the strength in his movements. He slowly leaned towards me and reached out to wipe milk foam from my lips that I had not even noticed. Clark’s touch was intense though. A tingling sensation spread through my face as his hand gently cupped my cheek.

“I would like to invite you to dinner,” Clark murmured, his voice sounding deeper than usual. He looked at me in silent admiration. His breathing became faster. With the hand that had just touched me, he started fumbling restlessly with his tie as if he could barely keep himself from touching me again.

“How about tonight?” I asked, excited and at the same time annoyed with myself that I was sounding so eager. But I had been waiting way too long for him to finally work up his courage and ask me out. “You could pick me up at seven.”

Clark nodded and surprise was written all over his face. A thin smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, soon turning into a full-blown grin. I loved the way he smiled; it was like the dawn of a new day, a perfect sunrise, warming my heart from within. I could not help but join him in smiling, shy at first but with increasing boldness.

My partner set his coffee cup on my desk and slid along the edge, closing in on me. I felt drawn to him. All of a sudden, I desperately wanted to get up from my chair. But if I did that, the whole newsroom would see, would know that…

Clark leaned forward. Gently he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and his thumb moved over my cheek until finally his entire hand was resting there. Behind the glasses his eyes seemed even darker. A fine blush colored his cheeks. I saw him swallow as his face came closer. His lips parted slightly, and then he kissed me.

I closed my eyes. There was only his mouth as his tongue gently caressed mine. Tenderly he nibbled at my lower lip, sucking lightly and letting go again. Was it just me, or was it getting hot in here? My cheeks burned, and I hungrily returned his kiss, sealing his lips with my mouth, drowning in their soft tenderness.

THE END

Observational Skills

By Anti-Kryptonite <dreamnovelist@gmail.com>

Rated PG

Submitted June 2012

Summary: He was always in the background, always a friend, always loyal, but Luthor’s betrayal affected him too. Just what was Jimmy thinking at the end of Season 1, and just how much did he see?

Disclaimer: Portions of dialogue and plot points are taken from Barbarians At The Planet, written by Daniel Levine and Deborah Joy Levine, and House Of Luthor, written by Daniel Levine. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: After a brief hiatus writing Chuck fanfiction, I wanted to return to the world of Lois & Clark, but I never imagined that the story I wanted to tell would prove so difficult. I started out wanting to write a story that gave a little screen time to Michael Landes’ Jimmy. I love Justin Whalin’s humor and cheerfulness, but I’ve always been a bit more drawn to Season 1 Jimmy’s desire to better himself and learn from Clark and be there for Perry and make of himself a friend to Lois and expand his own horizons. Writing a story from an observer’s point of view, however, is much harder than I anticipated, and in the end, I think this turned into a story that more detailed my role as an observer of Lois & Clark than of Jimmy’s of this integral moment in his friends and co-workers’ lives. Not at all what I intended, but I’ll let you be the judge of whether it turned out.

Thanks to Angel Finally for editing this for the archives!

***

The doors loomed before us, ordinary doors, really, not too far away from us…and yet they seemed to get farther away the more we waded forward. If only we could reach those doors and the open air outside this ultra-modern skyscraper-turned-prison, we might actually be able to escape the mob that had started out as well-wishers attending a newsworthy wedding and maybe, just maybe, the fiasco that had moments ago been a wedding ceremony.

Outside the doors, I could see the beautiful spring day, the type that always made a work day drag by impossibly slowly. Outside, people walked by who probably didn’t care that the Daily Planet had gone out of circulation or that its star reporter had almost just married a criminal. Outside, cars waited. Cars that could take us away from this mess and whisk Lois to safety.

Assuming there was anywhere she’d feel all that safe anymore, I amended. Right now, it was hard to believe that just hours earlier, Lois had been dressing in her fancy white dress while making plans for a future with Lex Luthor. Now, her veil had been lost somewhere in the riot we were leading her from, tears streaked her face and smudged her make-up, and confused despair painted her features into a mask so completely unlike the Lois Lane I had known for three years now. In fact, if I didn’t know better—and sometimes it seemed I was always the last one to know—I’d say we had saved the wrong woman entirely.

Jack and I walked in front of the Chief, doing our best to get us out those doors that seemed stuck in slow motion. I glanced about warily, preferring the chaotic view of the frustrated, confused spectators to the tragic view of Lois behind me. I wasn’t sure what to think right now about everything, but Perry had told me to get us outside and that was something I could do, a task I could definitely focus on.

Adrenaline left over from our frantic race to Lex Tower and ensuing confrontation with the billionaire largely credited for over half of Metropolis’s thriving economy coursed through me and made my hands tremble when I finally set them to the sun-warmed glass doors. Moving much easier and more smoothly than I would have thought, the doors swung outward.

Outside, fortunately, there was more room, the densely packed crowds swallowed up in the open expanse fronting Lex Luthor’s base of operations. I gratefully took deep breaths, still glancing all about, searching even as I felt the sinking feeling of disappointment flutter through me. I had really hoped Clark would be out here waiting for us, a smile to greet us, his hands stuffed in his pockets, that habitual hesitance as he met Lois’s eyes, a half-hearted remark about some errand he’d forgotten to do but had been duty-bound to see to.

But he wasn’t there. I sifted quickly through the individuals milling about, my gaze flicking from one person to the next. But CK’s ebony hair was missing, his dark, almost-slanted eyes, his large, unassuming build, his ambling stride, his voice caught between tenor and baritone—nowhere to be seen or heard.

“I’ve always been such a good judge of character,” Lois said from behind me. The tears in her voice were suppressed, and I could imagine the hints of humiliated anger that darkened her eyes, added that sparking gleam that could bully a powerful politician or captivate a reporter from Kansas. I imagined it, but I didn’t turn to see it.

I had known Lois for longer than I’d known Clark, and I liked her—really, I did—but…but Clark hadn’t been the same since she’d accepted Luthor’s proposal of marriage. Hadn’t been the same since he’d gone to see her at LNN. Hadn’t been the same since they’d stopped talking after the Chief’s retirement dinner. Clark had changed, and I didn’t like it. Didn’t like seeing the slump of his shoulders, hearing the merest edge of cynicism added to his voice, observing the almost manic energy that had spurred him to continue investigating Luthor without pausing to eat or rest, watching him separate himself ever so slightly from us as he turned all his efforts to saving Lois.

Clark had told Lois about Luthor. I knew he had. In fact, probably the entire newsroom had at one point or another heard Clark angrily tell Lois the kind of man Luthor was, and we had certainly all heard Lois’s contemptuous dismissal of that opinion. Though I tried to tamp down on the thought, I couldn’t help but wonder whether Lois remembered those warnings now. I didn’t, however, even bother wondering why Lois hadn’t believed CK. Lois Lane was Lois Lane, after all. There really wasn’t much else to say on that subject.

But still…it was hard not to turn around and ask her where her good judgment had been during the first days after Luthor had taken over the Daily Planet, when CK had fairly boiled with dark warnings.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Perry said comfortingly, and despite my own confusion, I was glad he was there for Lois. Glad he knew what to say, glad he was the one who had put his arm around her to guide her forward. The Chief had always loved Lois, at least he had as long as I had been working at the Daily Planet. He always knew what to say, what to do, how to approach a problem, and I knew Lois needed someone like him right now. “He fooled all of us.”

“Not me,” Jack asserted defiantly.

“I never trusted him,” I said as I searched intently for a nearby taxi cab, and for all I could read in the others, even I couldn’t tell whether I was lying through my teeth or applying a more than healthy dose of sarcasm.

Lois didn’t even seem to hear us. Truthfully, I’m not sure she had heard anything any of us had said since Inspector Henderson had started reading Luthor his rights. She just raised her voice, enough so that I could hear the shrill edge of hysteria encroaching, and asked, “Where’s Clark?”

Where was Clark? Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? The question Perry and Jack and I had been wondering the afternoon before, asking the evening before, and so desperately trying not to think about all day. Because if we asked it now, after listening to the message Luthor’s back-stabbing crony had left on Clark’s answering machine, then images of dumpsters and alleys and rivers inevitably came to mind.

And I, for one, could not even begin to think of CK thrown aside like garbage, could not think of him cold and still, could not think of his empty apartment and all the accompanying pictures of his smiling parents.

I was glad I hadn’t turned yet to look at Lois. Glad she couldn’t see the momentary flash of despair that washed through me before I could fight it back. Glad she didn’t know just how worried she should be. Because Clark might have told her he’d never attend her wedding, but Perry and I both knew that he would have been there anyway, to stop it if nothing else.

That is, he would have been there if it were at all possible for him to have been.

“Where’s Clark?” Lois asked, still draped in her wedding gown, and I simultaneously wanted to shake her until she saw what the rest of us had seen from the first day CK had begun working with her and wanted to tentatively hug her or clasp a hand to her shoulder to comfort her, to shield her from the fear that would doubtless assail her when she realized just how long Clark had been missing.

Motion, half-glimpsed out of the corner of my eye, registered, a movement that resembled Clark’s casual stride. But the gait was different, I knew without even giving it a closer look, slower and less defined, more hesitant. So I ignored it, ignored the deceiving allure of false hope, and continued to search for a taxi.

“Right here.”

I whirled toward that impossible glimpse of hope at the sound of what was, undeniably, Clark’s voice, but so drained and pale and hollow that I half-expected to see him staggering toward us, dripping blood on the ground that would, like morbid breadcrumbs, lead us back to wherever Luthor had locked him away.

But he was fine. He was clean, and dressed in one of his clashing suits, and standing there all alone, and looking only at Lois as if nothing else in all the world existed. On the face of it, he looked just like I had, exiting the building and looking all around for a glimpse of him, hoped he would look; on the face of it, it seemed nothing at all was wrong, as if he were simply taking a stroll on a nice spring day.

Only…he didn’t move with his customary grace, hardly took a step at all. And his face was shadowed and lined with tension I had never seen in him before. And his hands shook. And his shoulders were as slumped as if he carried the weight of the world. And he breathed heavily as if every inhalation cut deep.

Perry’s own features rewrote themselves with relief and astonishment and worry as he caught sight of CK. Jack grinned, a quick, white smile that belied the tightness of his eyes. I don’t know what my own features revealed—I’ve never been able to see myself the way I do others, as if framed for the photos I take for the paper—but I have a feeling I looked a lot like Perry or Jack in that moment.

For one long, suspended moment that hung like an icicle on the verge of falling and shattering against cold ground, Lois and Clark regarded one another. And then, as if that moment had never existed, Lois let out a breath and moved toward him, and CK opened his arms to receive her. They met, collided, hung on to each other as if for dear life. Now, Lois’s shoulders could begin to shake. Now, Clark could squeeze his eyes shut and press his face into her hair. I think they would have stayed like that forever if the world hadn’t insisted on moving forward regardless of their wishes.

The nearby radios crackled and spat out messages and updates on Luthor’s whereabouts, but none of us paid any attention at all. Funny, I suppose, seeing as how we had worked ourselves to the bone to bring Luthor down—seeing as how Lois had been about to pledge her love and life to him only moments ago—that none of us cared to see the end of our quest. Not even Clark, whose fervor for this self-appointed assignment had burned as brightly as the sun.

Or maybe, I thought as I studied him carefully, maybe with Lois in his arms—unmarried and single—maybe he had completed his assignment. Maybe this had been his goal all along.

Well, no maybe about it. The Chief had known it. I had known it. Jack surely, probably, knew it. I’d even bet that Luthor knew it.

Luthor.

The gasps and mutters from the crowd behind us attracted my attention, and I followed the direction of their gazes. Far above us, teetering on the edge of his penthouse balcony, Luthor balanced between life and death. I gaped up at him, mind spinning, heart lodged somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach. I had worked to bring Luthor down, but never, not even once, had I thought I was working to see him dead.

Looking behind him, Luthor shouted something indiscernible…and then he leaped over the edge and succumbed to gravity.

I watched him fall, watched him twist in mid-air so that he looked like he was flying. Only he didn’t have a red cape and integrity stronger than Kryptonian muscles and the power of flight. I watched, and at the last second, I turned away. Because photographer or not, there was no way I wanted to see the end of the House of Luthor so up close and personal.

Behind me, from Clark, I heard a strangled “I-I can’t,” and Lois’s [LOIS’]half-gasp, half-shriek. I looked toward them desperately, almost pathetically eager to concentrate on anything other than the sickening, gruesome sound Luthor’s body made as it hit the ground. Clark was straining toward Luthor, as if even now he meant to save the man. But it was too late, and anyway, Lois refused to let go of him; her head was turned into his shoulder, fleeing the same sight I had avoided.

A lump crawled its stubborn way up my throat as I saw Clark place his hand on Lois’s head and hold her face to him. There was something…tragic, something broken about his expression that made me suddenly want to do anything I could for him—get him a coffee, remount his bass, fix the horn on his golf cart, anything just so long as it dulled the edges of the emotion ravaging his features.

Lois tried to lift her head in an attempt to look toward the hideous remnants of her fiancé, but Clark tightened his hold on her and shook his head and murmured something in her ear. And miraculously—once more making me doubt that this was the same woman I’d been working with for the past few years—Lois capitulated and allowed CK to turn her from Luthor.

“Come on, son.” Perry’s hand was a more than welcome weight on my shoulder, a pressure that reminded me of where I was, reminded me that I was whole and alive and on solid ground. “Nothin’ more we can do here. Let’s find us a ride and get on out of here.”

I had never been so happy to receive an order in my life. I hurriedly moved to secure us a taxi, leaving Lois to Clark’s shaky ministrations, vaguely aware of Henderson emerging from Lex Tower to confer with Perry and wave Jack to his side, more intently focusing on my own task.

After flagging down a taxi, I stood there by it, bouncing up and down on my toes, and waited for the others to join me, too trapped in shock and horror to move.

My mind was frozen, I think, in that instant before Luthor had fallen. I lived in Metropolis and had seen things I never would have dreamed of before going to work for the Daily Planet, but I had never seen someone so close to me die—someone I knew and had at one time admired. He may have always forgotten my name, and he may have all but fired me and led to me getting kicked onto the streets, but Luthor was still a man that I had talked to, shaken hands with, taken pictures of.

And now he was dead.

I wondered if I would ever again be able to look at a picture of Lex Luthor without getting violently ill. Wondered if I would ever again be able to look at all the buildings stamped with his name without seeing him falling through the air toward the ground. My eyes started to move to the spot of ground surrounded by police and EMTs and horrified gawkers before I caught myself and jerked my sight back to the cab.

Behind me, I heard Perry’s voice raise slightly before lowering to a muted rumble. He said Clark’s name, I think, and I roused myself to turn and look behind me in their direction.

The Chief had a careful hand on Clark’s shoulder, but CK didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. He was staring at Luthor’s final resting place, and in the place of that terrible charge of emotions I had observed earlier, there was now just a terrible blankness controlling his features.

Perry said something else, ducking his head, and CK finally looked at him. A moment later, Clark nodded and began to lead Lois toward me. I watched them come, noting the stiffness of Clark’s movements, the sadness inherent in Lois’s refusal to let go of him, the weary, worn expression settling over Perry’s face as he followed behind them.

As the office gofer, I had had the unique position of being everywhere at once, unnoticed, unobserved, unheeded—and because of that, I had been able to watch everything around me, learned to look for the quieter things behind the headline occurrences. Everyone had a face they put on in public, a façade that hid away what they didn’t want—for whatever reasons—people to see and put forth what was acceptable. But in the quiet moments, in the corners and the shadows when only a gofer was in the vicinity, that façade often fell away.

As a photographer, I had learned to look at the world through the frame of a camera, to look at it as if it were framed for its place in the paper next to an explanatory story. Photographers took hundreds of pictures, but you had to be able to sift through those dozens of worthless pictures and find the one worthwhile snapshot that perfectly highlighted and encapsulated the story.

I wasn’t the office gofer or a newspaper photographer anymore—in fact, I wasn’t much more than a kid relying entirely on a friend’s kindness and patience to keep me off the streets—but I hadn’t forgotten all the lessons I’d learned at the Planet, hadn’t forgotten how to look and see the quiet moments that encapsulated the truths hidden behind façades.

And Clark using his arms to protect Lois from the world, Lois hiding from herself by fleeing to Clark, those were truths that really mattered, the truths behind the headline moments. Truths isolated and brought to light by the image of them walking together toward the cab beside me. Clinging to each other, heedless of what they looked like to the crowd swarming around us, careless of the impression they were giving to the newshounds invited to Luthor’s wedding.

Of course the Chief had recognized the danger already—that almost went without saying—probably the reason he was so intent on shepherding them away from Lex Tower and the media as quickly as possible.

“Bill’s going to take Jack down to the station to get the charges against him straightened out,” Perry informed me, sliding into the front passenger seat of the taxi.

Clark gave me a distracted nod of thanks when I pulled open the car door for him. His arm tightened around Lois’s waist even as he bent to climb into the cab. Lois tried to follow him, but the voluminous folds of her wedding gown got caught in the door. Frantic desperation overtook her so quickly that I took a startled step backward.

“It’s all right,” CK murmured, but Lois couldn’t hear him, couldn’t hear anything. The whole of her world had narrowed to the miles of lacy silk keeping her from joining Clark in the car that would take her away from this place. Lois was brave, I knew that. I had been there, usually at her side, the only one halfway allowed into her isolated world of front pages and exposés and undercover jobs and cynical optimism, the only witness to those tiny, rare moments when she sat at her desk alone and thought so briefly of just how unhappy she really was.

Until CK.

He had breached her walls. He had come over to her desk and sat on the edge. He had moved a chair right beside her desk so he could sit there and talk to her. He had dared to make her laugh. He had followed her into the elevator and out of the Daily Planet building and even into her apartment. He had reached across that gulf and placed his hand on hers. He had coaxed her out of her self-contained world, the one sandwiched between the pages and photographs that composed the Daily Planet, and connected her to the wider world that inspired the words that made up those selfsame newspapers.

Lois Lane was brave.

But she was also scared—and as much as CK had integrated himself into her life, I knew Lois just well enough to know that she was probably more terrified of him than of anything else.

Except now. Now…

I frowned and moved forward to try to help Lois wrestle the white dress into submission, but it was too late. With a sob of frustrated desperation, she took the fabric into her hands and she ripped off what looked to be a mile of train and let it drop to the ground as carelessly as Luthor’s body had fallen. Then she threw herself back into Clark’s arms, easily sliding into the back seat, all but in his lap as he tightened his hold around her, the two melding into each other in a way that was almost uncomfortable to watch, it was such a private, intimate moment.

Now, I thought as I stepped over the wilted, stained, discarded material, now—for the first time—Lois was more afraid of losing CK than she was of him.

I climbed in after my friends and slammed the door. I couldn’t deny the rush of satisfaction I felt to drown out the immediacy of the sounds that had whirled above our heads. It was hard to believe just how much I had been looking forward to this confrontation only that morning. But then, strange as it was, it almost seemed I was a completely different person now than I had been before the aborted Lane-Luthor wedding.

“Where to?” the cabdriver asked.

It was a simple question to stump us all, and yet stump us it did.

Lois, surprisingly, was the first one to speak. “I don’t want to go back to my apartment.” She pulled back just enough to look up at Clark, speaking to him as if he were the only one in the car, pleading voicelessly.

“Okay,” he said quietly, never able to deny her anything, equally ready to lay the world at her feet or bring her a perfect cup of coffee and her favorite type of donut. His eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, and he pulled in a shaky breath. I wondered if it was Lois’s proximity and brokenness or something else entirely—something connected to his delayed arrival and his bruised appearance—that so unsettled him. “344 Clinton Street,” he said aloud, and anyone who didn’t know him at least as well as I did would have missed the tremor in his voice.

Perry and I exchanged a glance filled with worry and confusion, but neither one of us said a word. I personally was afraid to speak, afraid to puncture the bit of peace Lois and Clark were slowly gathering around themselves. Anything I said would surely only be an intrusion at this point, and I didn’t know that either of them could really handle anything else coming at them. I thought that if there was the slightest wrong movement or word, they would both shatter. So I stayed quiet the entire drive to Clark’s apartment where Jack, Perry, CK, and I had all been staying.

Whatever the Chief’s reasons for staying silent, they apparently stopped applying when we finally reached the apartment. He opened his mouth and released a torrent of orders that made me painfully remember the home I had made at the Daily Planet.

“Clark, Lois, inside,” Perry commanded. “Jimmy, start straightening things up and make sure we’ve got everything we’ll need to get this story written up. Just because we don’t have a place to print the Planet doesn’t mean we need to get sloppy. Lois, honey, I want you to find something else to wear and get cleaned up in the bathroom, all right? Clark, you let her go. That’s it. Let go. Come on, Lois, into the bedroom—Clark, help her find something she can wear till we can round up somethin’ of hers. Go on, Clark. Jimmy, don’t just stand there gapin’, son, get rid of those pizza boxes. Into the bathroom, Lois, it’s all right, go on. I’m goin’ to put on some coffee for us. Well, Jimmy? Get movin’!”

I was grateful for the direction, grateful for something to do to break me from the numb state that had fallen on me with all the force of a rock, and I think Lois and Clark felt the same. CK let his arms slip away from Lois’s wedding-dress-cocooned figure—I wondered if he noticed the lost look that hollowed her eyes, wondered if she noted the slow reluctance of his step back—though he kept a hand on her back as he took her into the bedroom. Retrieving the garbage and then moving back toward the door, I glimpsed Lois clenching a handful of Clark’s shirt before reluctantly letting go and stepping slowly into the bathroom, hugging a pile of clothing to her chest in a stranglehold that was surely the only thing keeping the wealth of tears locked behind her crumbling mask.

As the door closed behind her, CK let out a huge breath and sagged forward. I think he slid to the floor, think he might have lowered his forehead to his knees, think he might have closed his eyes over whatever anguish he was feeling, think he might have curled inward to hide his inner pain…but I don’t know. Because I averted my eyes, kept moving, slipped out of the apartment to put the trash in the dumpster, gave him whatever privacy he had left to him.

The air outside was warm with just a hint of a cool breeze, but it did nothing to refresh me. Instead, it seemed too clammy, too suffocating, too heavy, smothering me in its oppressive grip. I hesitated before climbing the stairs back to CK’s apartment, paused to press my forehead against the cool railing. I wished I could scrub my mind free of the image of Luthor falling, Lois staring at Henderson as she plaintively asked “Evidence? Evidence for what?” Of Clark taking Lois into his arms, staring toward Luthor’s body, falling to his knees in his bedroom.

I wished I could go back to those days before Luthor had bought the Daily Planet, before I had lost the job I had worked so hard for and the people I had come to love like family, before Perry had lost that bit of spark he had always held as Editor-in-Chief, before Lois had lost herself, before CK’s smiles had transmogrified into desperate anguish…before my life had taken a turn for the worse.

But I didn’t need a black and white photograph or a glimpsed vulnerability to realize that I could never go back. I’d never be able to reclaim the same feelings, the same people, the same life I’d had before all this. Whether the Daily Planet ever came back or not, it would never be exactly as it had. I knew Jack wouldn’t go back, not when so many people would always wonder if he really had been the one to set that bomb for Luthor. Cat was gone forever, lost to some paper on the west coast. Steve might not forgive the paper that had fired him after so many years of faithful service. Perry would never lose the wrinkles that now tightened his eyes, would never walk quite as straight and uninhibited as he had before.

And Lois? Clark? What about them? I was terrified they would never be the same again. They were both, in their own ways, my closest friends. Thanks to my carjacking and lock-picking skills, Lois had many times let me tag along with her. She had helped me when I’d had a crush on her sister, had let me comfort her during that heat-wave when CK had left, had thanked me when I saved her from Barbara Trevino, had smiled at my recounting of my exploits in the ducts when those terrorists had taken over the Daily Planet.

But that had been before. Before she’d lost the paper she loved, the job that had been her life…and her best friend?

I wasn’t sure about that last one—and I knew she wasn’t either. She had to wonder how much CK would forgive.

I wondered too. Because even though I didn’t know everything that had happened, I knew enough to know that Clark might just walk away after this. Might just leave Metropolis entirely and go back to wandering the world.

And I didn’t want to lose him. Even forgetting the fact that without him I’d be out on the streets or staying at the YMCA, he had given me so much. He’d encouraged me to stand up to Perry, had helped me with my photography, had invited me to his place and to a few sports games, had taken an interest in my life, had been there for me when Perry had been too busy or distracted. He had been the first one who took me seriously and always been ready with a word of advice or encouragement. The Daily Planet would never be the same without him.

Funny, I couldn’t help but think as I began the climb up to his apartment. I wondered how Lois and I had both landed in the same boat—afraid of Clark leaving, praying he wouldn’t, not sure where our lives were going. Did Perry feel the same way? Jack? It didn’t surprise me at all that CK had so quickly become so important to so many people. That was just the kind of person he was.

When I opened the door to the apartment, I was greeted with the smell of coffee as strong as only Perry White could make it and the sight of the Chief himself setting down four coffee mugs on the table. It was only mid-afternoon, not the usual hour for coffee, but I thought he had the right idea in keeping us occupied. Though I couldn’t help but wonder when “keeping occupied” would transition back into “living life.”

Perry gave me a nod, but he didn’t say a word. Uneasy, I plopped into a chair at the kitchen table and examined my hands as if they might answer all my unvoiced questions. I could almost always find something to talk about, but today, at this moment, silence seemed the safest course.

“Jimmy.”

I jumped at the unexpected sound of my name, then looked up to meet the Chief’s gaze. “Yeah?” My voice was hoarse, I noticed as detachedly as if it belonged to someone else.

“I promised Bill that once I got Lois and Clark settled, I’d go back down there and straighten a few things out. They’re going to need all our statements eventually, but I’ll try to give them enough to keep them away from you for a day or two. But…” He paused and shrugged uncomfortably. I looked at him blankly, not at all sure where he was going with this.

“What?” I finally asked when he played with his coffee mug instead of elaborating.

“I want you to stay here, son. With Lois and Clark. Truth to tell, I’m none too sure they should be alone at the moment. I’m not sure either of them would even think to get a bite to eat or…or…” The Chief trailed off, something lodged in his throat that made his own voice sound tight and unfamiliar.

“Got it, Chief,” I said, and impressed myself with the confidence I projected. I remembered the courage I had tried to talk myself into while I’d been crawling through the Daily Planet’s air ducts thinking lives depended on me. This, though…this felt different. This felt more substantial, more ingrained. More real.

A bit of the tension leeched away from Perry’s stance, and he gave me the approving nod I would do almost anything to earn. Promising to help my friends in exchange for that hard-won token of respect, however, seemed a bit like cheating. After all, I would have done my best to help both Lois and Clark even if the Chief hadn’t asked me.

I had opened my mouth to say something to that effect when CK emerged from behind the bedroom’s partition wall to enter the kitchen. He had removed his suit coat and tie, which made the stiltedness of his movements even more obvious. The thought that he’d move very similarly if he’d been roughed up quite thoroughly by Luthor’s thugs planted itself deeply and viciously in my mind. I tried to ignore it, tried to shuffle it to the side with the reminder that I had been mistaken about Perry’s bridge appointment too…but I couldn’t convince myself. The pain on Clark’s features was too inarguable, too evident, too heartbreaking.

“You all right, son?” Perry asked gruffly. He was looking down at his coffee, pretending to be involved in pouring in just the right amount of sugar in order to hide just how strong his emotions were. I knew because I was currently doing the same thing.

Clark was carefully lowering himself into the chair beside me, but he started at the question with an arrested expression. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, Chief. Thanks.”

I let out a quiet snort of disbelief, but strangely—or perhaps not, considering the terrible circumstances—Clark didn’t hear it, didn’t glance at me with that slight, knowing smile to prove he’d heard me, didn’t acknowledge my dismissal of his patently false assertion. It was just another mark of how not-himself he currently was.

Perry had to know just how untrue Clark’s answer, but he didn’t call him on it. Maybe the Chief wasn’t sure what to do either, I couldn’t help but think. Maybe he was feeling his way forward as blindly as the rest of us.

Once more, I locked my eyes on my hands, curled around the draining heat of my coffee mug, afraid to look up and notice anything else that would further shake the remnants of my world.

“All right, then.” Perry stood, then paused, uncharacteristically hesitating. CK didn’t even look up at him, but then, I don’t think he even realized Perry had stood—maybe didn’t even realize Perry was still in the room. “I’ll go talk to Bill. Don’t know when he’ll let me out of his clutches, but I’ll call and see if I should maybe pick up some kind of dinner before I get back, all right?”

“Sounds good,” I said when the silence had stretched on a moment. Usually, nobody asked for my approval, but the Chief gave me a grateful nod and turned to go. His hand brushed across Clark’s shoulder, barely skimming it, but Clark flinched away, his knuckles turning white on the edge of the table. Perry, his back already turned, didn’t notice…but I did.

Only halfway into the living room, Perry paused and turned back to look at CK. I caught the glint of somberness evident on his face and wanted to get up and leave the room, but I was afraid that moving would draw more attention to me than was comfortable. Mute, I shrank in on myself and tried to pretend I wasn’t present, or failing that, tried to will myself invisible.

“Clark?” The Chief tucked his hands in his pockets and waited until CK looked up and blankly met his eyes.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Clark, Lois…well, she’s…been through a lot.”

Despite my resolve to stare fixedly at the shimmering ripples in my coffee, I couldn’t help but look up in response to the obvious tremor that passed across Clark’s frame at the mere mention of Lois’s name.

“I know, sir.” Clark’s voice was as dry as my throat had been when I emerged from the effects of that pheromone to find myself high up in the air after escaping a fate as road-kill thanks to Superman.

“Clark, son, I know…” Perry shot a sideways glance to me and I redoubled my efforts at disappearing. “I know we weren’t just working to save the Daily Planet, but…remember that she was marryin’ the man. Give her time, son. Don’t push too hard. It’s a lot for anyone to work through, and as strong as that gal wants us to think she is, sometimes…sometimes the breakin’ point’s a little closer to the surface than you might think.”

Another tremor shook Clark’s shoulders, and slowly, quietly, I reached out and moved his coffee mug a bit farther away from the edge of the table. He shot me an attempt at a smile before swallowing and looking up at Perry. “Chief,” he said slowly, his gaze inexorably moving toward the bedroom. “Believe me, I’m not going to push. I know that…well, that things are not…they’re…she doesn’t…” Clark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and for an instant, he looked different and familiar all at once, and then that curl fell forward over his brow again and the strange flash of déjà vu passed.

A deep breath escaped CK when Perry clasped his shoulder with a supporting hand. “Things change, Clark,” the Chief told him almost inaudibly. “Just give it time.”

I wanted to say something too, wanted to support CK as Perry was doing, but my well of words had run dry, so I just gave him an encouraging smile, heartened when Clark’s answering semblance of a smile actually looked slightly less sickly than his last attempt.

Seeing the almost-smile, a flash of relief ghosted across Perry’s face, and he turned, wrapping his gruff persona around him like a security blanket as he hastily made his exit, muttering something about Chinese for dinner since his crayfish obviously weren’t appreciated by less refined palates. Feeling the resulting faint smile on my own lips made me feel a bit better. After all, Perry was back to normal and Clark…well, he hadn’t said anything yet that sounded as if he were planning on leaving Lois and Metropolis…and me.

But he also hadn’t said anything about staying, and he still hadn’t moved from his frozen position looking toward the bedroom, and his truncated sentences certainly hadn’t been full of hope or forgiveness.

“Your coffee’s getting cold, CK,” I said conversationally, just to break the oppressive silence, to chip at the mask of bleak despair overtaking his face, to drive away the memory of how much I had missed him when he’d left during that heat-wave earlier that year and my fear that history was doomed to repeat itself.

“Huh?” Startled, he turned to look at me, then looked down when I gestured to his milky coffee. “Oh. Thanks, Jimmy, but…I’m not really thirsty right now.” He hesitated before looking over at the phone beside his couch. “I should call my parents, though. I was supposed to call them last night, and they’ll have seen the news. I need to let them know I’m okay.”

My eyes narrowed at the mention of his absence over the past day, and when he stood, I reached out, ignoring the twinge from my still-weak shoulder, and grabbed hold of his arm. “CK!”

My hand fell away from his as if burned and my jaw dropped almost to the table when he let out a gasp of pain and tugged free of my touch. The awkward way he held his arm against his side tilted his hand and revealed what looked like a crisscrossing of burns across his palm. The pain evident in his eyes revealed the truth behind his slow, stilted movements. The way he turned away from me, hiding the depths of his reaction, revealed his reluctance to let anyone know that he’d been hurt.

That Luthor had hurt him.

Unfamiliar anger flared up inside me, burning through the numbness besieging me since I’d seen a man throw his life away right in front of me.

“Happy days are here again!” Those had been my own words, the welcome I’d given to Luthor when he’d bought the Planet, when I thought he’d saved my job, when I assumed he was a hero. But these weren’t happy days and Lex Luthor wasn’t a hero. He was a bully, and I’d had plenty of practice with those, from the first days of kindergarten all the way to the Daily Planet newsroom.

“Clark,” I said, shock reverberating through my voice.

“I need to call my parents.” He took a step forward, but I was faster, already on my feet and stepping in front of him.

“Clark!” I said again, tasting the strangeness of his proper name coming from me. “What happened last night? Where were you?”

“I was…detained.” Clark looked so beaten that I felt guilty for pushing the issue, but I was worried about him, almost as worried as I’d been about Perry when I thought he was dying.

“It was Luthor, wasn’t it?” I hadn’t heard that cold note in my voice since reform school, hadn’t felt this kind of fury building up inside me since my dad had left for the last time. “What did he do to you, CK?”

“He’s gone now, Jimmy.” I think he was trying to convince himself more than me because his eyes fell closed for a few seconds and he mouthed the words again, nothing more than a mere whisper. “It’s over, okay?” he added, louder.

“No, it’s not!” I cried, wishing I knew how to explain the terrible feelings of uncertainty within me, wishing I was brave enough to ask him not to leave Metropolis like both my parents had. “It’s not over, CK. If it were over, we’d be at the Daily Planet, working on getting the next edition out, and you and Lois would be partners instead of strangers, and I…”

And I’d be able to expunge the images of Luthor falling, of Lois crying, of Clark going to his knees in his bedroom. I’d be able to think beyond this moment, be able to see those moments of picture-perfect truths framed in black and white, be able to see real secrets exposed in unguarded moments.

“It is over,” Clark insisted stubbornly. “Everything’s going to go back to the way it was before.”

“Then what about these?” I asked quietly, and before he could stop me, I pushed his sleeves back from his wrists.

There, illuminated by the afternoon sun, burns marred the skin of his forearms, lines of red, angry wounds that made it look almost as if he’d been pushed into molten bars.

After a brief pause—or maybe it only felt like that because I was frozen at the sight of what Luthor had done to Clark—CK calmly pulled his sleeves back down and met my astonished gaze. “They’ll heal, Jimmy. Just like all the wounds inflicted these past weeks. We’ll get through this, somehow, and everything will be just like it used to be, and things will be better then. Okay?”

“Then…” I had to stop and clear my throat, had to look away, had to hide my own wounds just as CK had been hiding his. “Then you’re not leaving?”

A flicker of warmth washed through Clark, and he placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Jimmy. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

His hand was gone almost before I had a chance to register it, but I still felt warmed, as if his warmth was like the sun’s, enough to bathe the rest of us in a gentle glow. His words faded away as quickly as anyone’s, but I could still hear them inside me, could still feel them relaxing the tension I’d only distantly realized was coiled within me. His gaze moved from me to the phone, but I knew that if I needed him, he’d look at me again, just like always. Lois had let me be her friend, but CK was the first person who’d actively worked to befriend me, the one person who always believed in me, sometimes—most of the time, in fact—more than I believed in myself.

And he was staying.

He wasn’t abandoning me like Dad had. Wasn’t moving on to a warmer place and a better job like Mom had. Wasn’t letting me go when our careers were no longer tied together like Jack and most of the people at the Daily Planet had. He was staying, and that was enough to let me sink back into my seat and take a sip of my lukewarm coffee, realizing with a soft pang that Perry had flavored it exactly the way I liked it. I hadn’t even realized the Chief knew how I took my coffee.

Clark sank down onto the couch, put his hand on the phone…then paused. Looked up at me, something incredibly vulnerable in his expression. “Jimmy…I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention any of this to Lois.”

“What?” I liked to think of myself as someone with at least average intelligence, but I always felt slightly slow when it came to CK or Lois, always just a step behind them, always a little bit in the dark. It was just that both of their minds seemed to leap forward incomprehensibly, making connections that no other person would ever make, coming to solid conclusions based on only snippets of information and guesswork. Occasionally, my inability to keep up with them depressed me; usually, it just made me respect and admire them even more.

“Don’t tell her about…” Clark lifted his hands wordlessly, then self-consciously bundled them back into his lap. “Like the Chief said—she’s having to come to terms with a lot about Luthor. She doesn’t need anything more to think about or worry over or feel guilt about. So…don’t tell her.”

“I think she’d want to know,” I said quietly, neutrally. Usually, I just accepted whatever either Lois or Clark told me after they’d completed one of their mental leaps, but this time I wasn’t sure CK was right. Lois needed to know things, anything, everything—it was all but a compulsion—and the more facts she gathered, the more in control she felt, the more confident she was in moving forward, the more she understood the whole of the situation.

But CK was looking at me so pleadingly, something almost like panic edging his expression, and his voice broke as he begged me. “Please, Jimmy. Please. She’s going through more than enough right now; with all that, she doesn’t need to deal with…with me, too.”

I studied him for a moment, searching in vain for those quiet moments I saw so often, that picture I would select as the perfect photograph to accompany this moment should it be turned into an article. Searched for that quiet, unspoken truth…but I couldn’t find it. Because the truth was that you didn’t have to look in dark corners or quiet moments for CK’s truths. You just had to look at him. Because his secret wasn’t a secret at all; it was almost like a fact of life, as inherent and basic as the rotation of the earth or the status of the Daily Planet as the best newspaper in the world.

Everyone knew that Clark Kent loved Lois Lane.

But I wondered how many people knew that Lois Lane loved Clark Kent in return.

That was a secret better kept even though she didn’t hide it very well. In fact, I would guess that even Clark himself didn’t know that particular secret, no matter how obvious it was when you knew what to look for.

But I wasn’t a photographer anymore, and there was no article being written about Lois Lane’s heart, and this wasn’t a secret I needed to show the world. So I nodded to his request, and I said, “Sure, CK. If that’s what you want,” and I turned back to my coffee and let him call his parents and tell them he was fine in a worn and weak voice that belied his words. They were obviously worried, I could tell by the way Clark had to repeat his assurance several times, but then, they were probably even better at seeing through his hopeful façade than I was, at reading the utter weariness he tried so miserably to hide, at knowing just how not fine he really was.

A flicker at the edge of my vision alerted me to the fact that Lois was emerging from the bedroom. Her hair was wet, the ends dripping onto the sweater Clark had given her, its gray folds engulfing her so that she seemed to be clothed in a cloud of depression, of mourning, of sadness. Her eyes, dark and glistening with more than just reflected light, were fixed on Clark even though he hadn’t seen her, even though he was still telling his parents he loved them and would visit soon and yes, he’d explain better when he saw them.

Perry and Clark had both told me Lois was close to breaking, and I had seen her tears and complicity at Lex Tower, but it was only now, only staring up at the fragility no longer lurking behind her busy-reporter mask but exposed and out in the open for all to see—only now did I realize just how hurt Lois was. I had felt bad for her when she hugged Clark and hidden her face from the sight of her fiancé’s suicide, but now, seeing how she couldn’t turn away from Clark, seeing how she looked at him so desperately, as if afraid he would vanish should she look away—only now did I feel like patting her on the shoulder or even daring to hug her, anything just to ensure that she didn’t fly into a million shattered pieces.

The click the phone made when CK hung it up sounded incredibly loud in the silence of the apartment. The inaudible impact made when he looked up and unerringly met Lois’s eyes—as if they were two magnets that could not be repelled—dwarfed that sound and resounded in my head like the echo of a gunshot. There was enough contained within their weighted glances to fill a thousand newspapers, but I averted my eyes because these stories, these headlines, these truths, were not mine to peruse, were not meant to be sold on street corners; they were private, intimate, confined to a world comprised solely of Lois and Clark.

“I…I should get cleaned up.” Clark stood, the phone rattling as his hand was torn from it before he’d fully let go. He didn’t look dirty—he never did, come to think of it—but knowing that he’d been gone, possibly held against his will, certainly beaten…well, I didn’t blame him in the least for wanting to wash away the feel of helplessness and hatred and terror.

“Clark…” But Lois said nothing more, and his name from her lips didn’t seem, in this one instance, to be enough to keep him there.

With only a slight shake of his head, his gaze fell to the floor, and he slipped into the bedroom, taking the long way around either to give Lois room or to give himself a bit of distance—I wasn’t sure which it was, and maybe he didn’t either. Certainly Lois seemed to take it for the latter. I wished, very badly, that I could take the sight before me and freeze it in black and white and put it in a frame and show it to Clark. Surely if he saw how disconsolate, how bereft, she looked when he left, he’d have been able to see the secret she was hiding from him.

But I had no camera and wouldn’t have had the heart to take the picture even if I had. So Clark disappeared behind the brick partition, shutting himself further away behind a solid door, and Lois wandered to the couch, as light and wispy as if she were a feather drifting in the wind.

“Coffee?” I asked even though the coffee Perry had poured had long since gone cold.

“What?” She looked up at me, studied me for a moment as if she were trying to place me, and then she dredged up a wan smile for me from somewhere deep inside her. “Oh. Thanks, Jimmy. I mean, no thanks. I don’t want any coffee.” In a normal situation, she would have continued, probably going on about the time of day or the optimum place to get coffee or something else that made no sense to anyone else but was somehow connected in her mind to cold coffee in the afternoon. But this wasn’t a normal situation, so she trailed into silence, and her eyes fell away from mine as if I had been granted my earlier wish and been belatedly bestowed invisibility.

“Can I get you anything else?” I offered, unwilling to see her shut herself away behind the walls that had become just a bit less thick in the months since she’d been partnered with CK. After all, he could slip behind her walls without any effort, almost without even alarming her, but the rest of us weren’t so lucky. And I liked being able to talk to Lois, being able to sometimes get a smile out of her, being able to see a bit more of her than the driven reporter.

Not that the driven reporter part of her was very visible at the moment.

“I’m good.” Lois paused, as if replaying her own words and really listening to them. Then her face crumpled and she hunched in on herself, her forehead coming to rest on her knees. “Actually, I’m not good, Jimmy.”

A spurt of panic bled through me. I wanted to help her, wanted to be her friend, but…well, Lois Lane was a little bit intimidating, a little larger-than-life, a little hard to live up to, and I didn’t want to mess this up. Maybe, in thinking I could comfort her, I had bitten off just a bit more than I could chew.

“It’ll be all right, Lois,” I said, then winced to hear the inanity of my own reply. Saying it didn’t make it so—though Lois hadn’t always acted as if she believed that particular fact—and I felt stupid making a reassurance that sounded so blatantly untrue.

But at least it had the benefit of reminding Lois that I was there. She looked at me, and though she didn’t babble at a hundred miles a minute—in fact, she spoke slowly, mulling over each word before speaking it, something she’d never done before—the intensity behind her voice was the same.

“Is he okay, Jimmy?”

The question left me pinned to my seat, still the same chair I’d been occupying since first accepting Perry’s coffee. I wanted to shift with my discomfort, but CK had begged me not to tell her the truth…and Lois was begging me to tell her that same truth. This wasn’t something office gofers usually ran into…but friends did.

“What do you mean?” I asked, a delaying tactic as I desperately tried to think of a way to let Lois in on a confidence I couldn’t break.

“I mean…” Lois lifted a trembling hand to wave around at the apartment around us—the files scattered across the counters, the official records piled in corners, the videotapes Jack had made stacked near the VHS, proof of our investigation of Luthor. “Obviously, you know a lot more about…everything…than I do. Please tell me he’s okay.”

I was silent, debating my reply. Technically, I could tell her that Clark was fine since she had point-blank asked me to; it would answer her request and keep CK’s secret. But I hesitated in taking the easy way out.

Both Perry and CK seemed afraid that Lois was too fragile to endure the full scope of our situation, but I wasn’t sure I agreed with them. I had never known Lois to be weak or insufficient or lacking in any way. Fragile as she obviously was at the moment, I had no doubt that if we were to tell her everything—Clark’s physical state, whatever mysterious secret he and Perry had been discussing, the full details of all we had discovered about Luthor—well, I was sure that it would only make her stronger. She’d get mad, naturally, but that was kind of the way Lois Lane worked. The madder she got, the better she became. A righteously angry Lois Lane was better to have on your side than the entire United States military.

“I know I hurt him.” Lois’s voice was small, soft, more remorseful than I’d ever heard from her before, and I would have attacked a hundred Barbara Trevinos to keep Lois from ever sounding like that again. “I know I…made some bad decisions. But…please, Jimmy, if he’s going to leave, just tell me.”

“He’s not going to leave,” I told her with certainty, glad I could put her mind at ease on at least this fear. “He told me he wasn’t. He’s staying.”

Her dark lashes glistened with moisture as they fluttered closed over her eyes, her quiet sigh stirring the wet, curling tendrils of hair hanging near her cheek.

“He wouldn’t leave you,” I added, as close as I could come to telling her just how much CK had endured for her. “He’s a good guy.”

Lois smiled a mirthless smile. “I know that, Jimmy, trust me.”

“No,” I said, and wondered where I had acquired the courage necessary to contradict Lois Lane.

Even in her vulnerable state, she obviously wasn’t expecting my reply, and she met my gaze with an arched brow. For the first time, she finally reminded me of the reporter I’d known for the past three years.

“I think you know he’s a good person,” I explained quietly, gesturing in the general direction of the bathroom and Clark Kent. “But I don’t know that you’ve realized yet that he’s a good man.”

It was a tiny distinction, yet staggering for all it conveyed. I wasn’t that worried, though. I knew I wasn’t as experienced as Perry and I didn’t have a direct line to Lois’s heart like CK, but I had seen her in her unguarded moments, had heard her in shadowed corners, had witnessed those picture-perfect freeze-frames, and in none of those had frailty been the truth revealed. Only strength, hidden behind impetuousness sometimes, masked behind cynicism on an almost daily basis, overtaken by anger quite often…but there nonetheless. I had unwavering faith that Lois had strength enough to equal Superman’s.

And if she ever realized that herself…well then, maybe, just maybe, she’d finally be able to realize that CK was a man as well as her friend and partner.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

I knew miracles didn’t happen everyday, but then…this was Metropolis and we had a superhero flying in the skies above our streets, so maybe miracles did happen everyday.

Anyway, I had said everything I knew to say—and more than I would have thought I’d ever dare to say—and Lois was biting her lip in thought, her brow creased, and all that was left to do was to watch and see. See if Lois could find her courage, enough to reach out to Clark; see if CK could find the confidence needed to step fully into Lois’s sight. Enough to see if I could gather my family and home around me once again, a family made up of friends instead of blood relatives and a home made up of newspaper ink and cramped desks rather than a bedroom and kitchen and attic and basement.

Restless, tired of the silence that had been dogging us since Luthor’s dive off his balcony, I stood and collected the mostly unused coffee mugs, carried them to the sink, washed them up. Occasionally, I’d dart sidelong glances at Lois, and each time, I’d catch her looking around CK’s apartment as if she’d never seen it before, studying each item, each picture, each knickknack, all without moving from her hunched position at the edge of Clark’s couch.

Finally, just as I set the last mug upside down on the rack to air-dry, I heard the bathroom door open. A moment later, Clark emerged from his bedroom, dressed in loose pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt that hid the scars on his arms. His glasses gleamed in the sunlight streaming through his windows, and he had his hands in his pockets, probably trying to hide the burns adorning his palms. Absently, I wondered what he’d do about them when Henderson got around to seeing him, how he’d explain the scars after they’d healed, what he’d say if Lois called him on them.

Almost tentatively, her hands twisting together in her lap, Lois looked up at Clark. He gazed down at her, and swallowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Neither one said a word. Neither one moved, turning the moment into a frozen tableau, as if they were posing for my absent camera. Trapped in their orbit, I couldn’t move either, afraid even to breathe.

Clark shifted, suddenly looking much less confident than he had with me. It was amazing to me that Lois had never seemed to notice that CK acted differently with her than he did with anyone else. “Lois, I—”

“Clark, I didn’t!” Lois stared up at him, caught between imploring and uncertain, an unusual combination that was unfamiliar on her features, and yet beautiful, judging by Clark’s struck expression. “At the wedding, I…the archbishop asked, and I…I couldn’t. So instead of I do, I…I-I didn’t.”

I looked away from the raw emotion exposed on Clark’s face, saw Lois’s answering expression of overwhelming feeling, closed my eyes and then opened them again, unable to really look away from the byplay before me, unable to pretend I wasn’t fully invested in whatever happened.

“Well…” Clark pulled a hand from his pocket and held it out as if looking for something to hold onto, a way to regain his balance, as if his world had been knocked suddenly off-kilter. Or maybe, I thought with a flare of hope, it had been righted. “I said I wouldn’t come to your wedding, but I did end up coming.” He paused, took a deep breath, then met her gaze full-on. “I guess we were both a little messed up, huh?”

Relief shuddered through Lois, her gaze fixed on him. “Yeah, I guess.” Her agreement was little more than a breath, but it was enough for Clark. A smile touched his lips. It was small, granted, tiny and wavering and still with a trace of hurt lingering along the edges of it, but it was real, which was so much better than the fake ones he’d given the Chief and me.

Lois blinked away tears and shifted. “Clark, I’m s—”

“No, Lois.” Faster than I would have guessed he could move with his injuries, Clark was sitting beside her, pulling her into his sure embrace, hugging her to himself, cradling her head against his shoulder. “Shh, Lois. No more, okay? No apologies, no recriminations, let’s just…let’s just be us, okay?”

If Lois said anything, I didn’t hear it, but the way she threaded her arms around him, the way she sank into his embrace, the way she closed her eyes to savor the moment…it was answer enough.

And I grinned, then, because I knew my family, my world, was back again. It might change a bit, might grow, but then, I would too, and the very fact that we were here proved that Luthor couldn’t beat us. Couldn’t beat them. Because Clark might hold Lois a bit more wistfully, a bit looser and less carefree than he had before, and Lois might touch Clark as wonderingly as if she’d never before took note of what it all entailed, but I knew—the truth I’d been searching for? It was right here, in this moment, in this instant, in this freeze-frame that was picture-perfect right before me.

The black and white photograph to immortalize this story wasn’t the image of Luthor falling or of Clark hurting or of Lois crying. It wasn’t even the shot of them clinging to each other outside Lex Tower like drowning victims grasping tight hold of a life-jacket. No, the perfect picture that made the others pale in comparison was this snapshot, this photo of a moment stolen from time, this image of Lois and Clark back together again.

I had been cast in the role of observer, of an occasionally participating audience, but that was okay—more than okay. Because I felt privileged just being able to see a story like this play out in front of me, influencing and touching my life as it doubtless would others. A story of friendship and love and forgiveness and acceptance and maybe a hundred other things that I might not ever fully understand but that would affect me and make me into a better person, maybe one more able to love as freely and unconditionally as Clark or one as courageous as Lois, daring to grab hold of hope even though it seemed an impossible chance.

It was, in all respects, the story of a lifetime.

And I…I was its photographer.

THE END

Nightfall Honeymoon

By VirginiaR. <lc.virginiaR.@gmail.com>

Rated PG-13

Submitted March 2012

Summary: This is basically an episode rewrite of the episode “All Shook Up.” What if the Nightfall asteroid showed up while Lois and Clark were on their honeymoon? A romantic comedy. This is a continuation of the author's Green-Eyed Monster story and is set in that alt-alt-universe.

Set: This is set in my “What if…” alternative universe of Green-Eyed Monster. (If you don’t want GEM spoilers, I recommend you stop reading and read that story first.) In this universe Clark is a package deliveryman with MDS, who didn’t go to college. Lois is a bookseller with Daily Books, who transferred out of journalism school after a nasty run-in with Linda King and the editor of the Met U’s student newspaper. Actually all the familiar faces from the Daily Planet (S1) have been working at the bookstore and sometimes contributing to Perry’s weekly newspaper The Planet, named in honor of the Daily Planet, which had been blown up in the 1970s by owner and billionaire Lex Luthor. The Kents raised their son in Metropolis, where they own a restaurant called MJ’s Café, while the Lanes raised their daughters in Smallville. Superman officially came on the scene approximately two weeks earlier, although he had been doing anonymous rescues prior to that. At the time of this story the Kents, Perry White, Lois Lane, Sam Lane, and Bill Henderson all know that Clark is Superman.

Author’s Note: For those of you familiar with Green-Eyed Monster, I have repeated two scenes — one here and one a little later, from GEM. I have changed the POV to keep them fresh. Just in case you were feeling a bit déjà vu-ish.

I have changed Nightfall’s position from the solar side of Earth to the dark side; therefore, making it impossible for it to have been visualized as a “solar eclipse.” I do not know the exact location of Jupiter to Earth back in 1994 and whether this eclipse of Jupiter would have been able to happen as I have described. I apologize to those of you with superior scientific and astronomical knowledge.

***

Thursday — Noon

Clark zipped over the boat pond at New York’s Central Park. He caught a glimpse of Lois before landing in a copse of trees and changing out of his blue suit. He wondered why she wanted to meet him here.

“Hi,” Clark said breathlessly, walking up behind her a few moments later. There was something about his girlfriend that always seemed to take his breath away. He didn’t know if it was her beauty, her anger, or the fact that she actually seemed to love him. “Am I late?”

Lois’s smile grew into a full blown grin as her bag slid from her hand, and she enveloped him into her arms, pressing a kiss onto his lips that felt like the one burning inside him since the night before. Her touch relaxed him as he returned her kiss. He could easily spend the rest of his life kissing this woman. Mayson had said that Lois told her that they were engaged. If only they were…

Her girlfriend then pressed her hands against his chest, dragging her lips from his. “I can’t do this anymore,” she breathed more than spoke.

Clark could hear her heart racing and her blood pumping. From these physical changes, he knew she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her.

“Come on. We need to talk,” she said, picking up the bag with the picnic stuff and then taking hold of his hand.

He didn’t want to talk. “I’d rather kiss,” he murmured, bringing her back to his lips.

Lois kissed him for another minute before drawing away again.

“I don’t want to stop,” Clark whispered.

“We don’t have time to keep this up, Clark. Let’s eat lunch,” Lois told him, dragging him away from the boat pond and towards the lawns of grass. She spread out the blanket and started to unpack the food.

Clark lay down next to her. Time, huh? What else did she have planned for them? Or did she just mean before he was due back from his lunch break? He plucked a green grape off the bunch she had just unloaded and bit into it. Lois released a moan of desire, causing him to smile. Wow. And all he had done was eat a grape. What else could he do to tempt her to leave the park and find them someplace private where they could be together? He picked another grape with a wicked grin, set it between his teeth, and glanced at her with bouncing eyebrows. Lois attacked him for a bite of grape, pushing him down onto the blanket.

He didn’t mind and deepened the kiss. The combined taste of Lois and the grape proved to be his undoing. Clark rolled them over, so that he was lying on top of her. “Let’s forget about lunch and go find a room,” he whispered hoarsely.

Lois pushed his chest. “No, Clark. I can’t… you can’t… Let’s eat and talk. I’ve got some pasta salad.”

Clark groaned. This woman was slowly torturing him. He knew if she kept this up, he was surely going to die from unfulfilled desire. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “You’re killing me. Don’t you know what pasta does to me?”

She grinned at him. Evil, evil woman! She did know.

Lois pulled out some paper plates and piled them with sandwiches, pasta salad, chips, and fruit.

Clark started to laugh. He had never seen so much food. Was the food compensating for or replacing something else? “Hungry, Lois?” he asked, taking his plate.

She gave him a desirous, slow burn of a gaze as another moan of longing escaped from deep within her. Yep, she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her. Yet, she couldn’t possibly want him as much as he wanted her. No one had wanted to make love more than Clark did at that exact moment. Clark set down his plate and kissed her again. Food forgotten, they laid down on the blanket. His fingers found her leg and the soft skin under her skirt.

Lois pushed Clark’s hand off her thigh and scrambled back to a sitting position, moving as far away from him as possible while remaining on the blanket. She straightened her skirt and hair again and picked up her lunch. “I can’t do this anymore,” she told him again.

“Neither can I,” Clark agreed, pulling himself up on his elbow. All this unfulfilled sexual tension was killing him. He couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t concentrate. Reason had deserted him. He couldn’t believe he had touched Lois like that out in public. He needed her. He tilted down his glasses, gazing at her without a barrier. Maybe then she would see into his soul. “Which is why we should go find a room.”

Lois smiled at him, scooting farther away. “Stop it.”

He grinned and batted his eyelashes innocently. Oh, she liked him gazing at her without the glasses, huh? Good to know. Next time they were alone…

“Clark.” Lois placed a hand on his shin. Warmth danced up his leg from her touch. “If we start…” She swallowed.

“If?” he inquired. It was too late for an if in their relationship.

She cleared her throat. “When we start…” She took a deep breath and then continued. “I won’t be able to stop.”

Clark’s smile grew larger. “Who wants you to stop?” He certainly didn’t.

Her hand grabbed hold of his pants as she closed her eyes. Did her thoughts mirror his? He wondered. Then her eyes flashed open. “No. I mean for hours.”

“Hours?” he stammered. Hours? Could a human make love for hours? He guessed he could, Kryptonian stamina and all, but…

Lois’s voice grew deeper as she fixed her gaze on him. “Countless hours.”

Clark gulped. “Oh.” Guess they can.

“So we need to talk,” she said, letting go of his pants leg.

Oh, God! Not with the talking again, Lois. We need action in this relationship, not more words.

She closed her eyes again. “You love me, don’t you, Clark?”

Clark didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Since the first moment you looked at me and rolled your eyes at Cat. Yes.” He had told her that he wanted to spend his whole life with her within twenty-four hours of their first real kiss. How could she doubt that he loved her? True, he had been a dense idiot at times, but he was getting better. He hadn’t had a fit of jealousy — real jealousy — all week. He stared at her, all his desire rushing to the forefront of his mind.

Lois opened her eyes and swallowed.

Ooops. A bit much there, Kent.

She stood up and started to pace.

Clark continued to lie on the blanket as his eyes followed her.

“And would you still love me if I came into a lot of money? Lots and lots of money?” She didn’t look at him as she wrung her hands.

What was really going on here? He sat up, his face abruptly serious. “Lois, did you do something illegal?”

“Of course not!” she said, pressing her lips together.

Clark relaxed, yet he still drew his knees to his chest uneasily. Money was never something he would bring to their relationship. “Are you expecting to come into some money?”

“You never know,” Lois replied vaguely. “Would that change the way you feel about me?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’d let money change who you are inside. So, no, it wouldn’t stop how I feel about you.” Nothing could do that. He was passed the point of no return with Lois.

She sighed a breath of relief.

“Hhmmm, dating a rich girlfriend,” he teased her, popping another grape into his mouth. “I could get used to that. Would that make me your kept man?” He bounced his eyebrows at her.

Lois rolled her eyes. “And would you still love me if ever I got sick? I mean really, really sick. With hospitals and pills I have to take every day. You’d still love me?”

His snickers disappeared as his mouth suddenly went dry. Was Lois sick? Was that what this crazy day in New York was all about? Had her father discovered something when Clark had taken her there after rescuing her from Luthor? “Lois? Are you all right?”

She nodded nervously, still not looking at him. Something was definitely up. Lois was acting too strangely.

Right. Her question. She wanted him to answer her question. “Of course, Lois. Nothing could stop me from loving you.” Clark shifted to his knees and took hold of her arm, stopping her pacing. “Are you sick?” Please deny it. Please. He had just found her and convinced her to love him, the Fates couldn’t take her away from him now.

Lois waved his question out of the air.

Was that a ‘no’? “Lois?”

She turned and faced him. “Do you age, Clark?”

Clark felt like she had sideswiped him with the suddenness of the change in topic. “Excuse me?”

Lois knelt down next to him, taking his hands in hers and lowering her voice, “I know you’re strong and invulnerable, but does that mean you won’t get older?”

Was that what was worrying her? Not her health or their financial instability? But something about him physically? Was that why she kept putting the brakes on moving forward in the intimate side of their relationship? “I don’t know, Lois. I never thought about it. I came here as a baby and I’ve aged regularly since then, but now?” Clark shrugged. “I don’t know what a Kryptonian’s life expectancy would be here on Earth.”

She placed her hands on his face, gazing into his eyes as if she could see into his soul. “Would you still love me when I’m old, grey, and frail, stooped with age, and speckled with liver spots, if you still looked as you do today? Would you want to leave me and be with a younger woman with your liveliness, energy, spirit, and youth?” She swallowed. “Someone still attractive like you?”

How could she ever think that?!

Clark cupped her jaw with his palm. “You say that like you could ever be unattractive, Lois, which is impossible. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I will love you forever. It doesn’t matter how you or I might change with age or even if you or I should die. I will never be able to stop loving you.”

Lois stared straight into his eyes.

He could hear her heart racing. This time he knew it wasn’t desire fueling its beat, but what?

She swallowed. “Then marry me.”

A metaphorical light bulb flashed in front of his eyes as a smile brightened his entire face. Mayson had been right; Lois did want to marry him. He tried to sound casual as excitement and joy filled him like never before. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lois wanted to marry him. She didn’t care that he had no money. She didn’t care that he wasn’t human. She didn’t care that he had all these extra abilities and that he flew off without a moment’s notice to help people. She didn’t care that he was a complete idiot when it came to her and often said the wrong thing at the wrong time. She loved him and wanted to be with him forever.

Clark closed the small gap between them and took possession of her lips. Kissing Lois had always been the most sensual experience of his life. But with the added knowledge that Lois loved him and wanted to be his wife, her kiss became a completely different experience — as if he were kissing her again for the first time.

Suddenly Lois jumped to her feet and grabbed all the food off the blanket, dumping containers back into the bag and throwing everything else away.

There was that crazy woman again. What was up with her today? He didn’t need to be back to work, yet. They still had time. “Lois?” Clark asked, a startled expression surely covering his face. “What’s wrong?”

Lois shot him a grin. “Nothing. I just have some paperwork for you to fill out.”

Paperwork?

She pushed him off the blanket, folded it up, and stuffed it into the bag as well. She held out her hand to Clark. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” he inquired incredulously.

“To get our marriage license, of course.”

***

Friday Morning

Lois had just stepped out of the shower when she heard voices in the other room.

“Clark! Forget Lois. Marry me!” gushed Lucy.

The older sister grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her wet head. Clark must have brought breakfast. As a true Lane, Lucy was also a sucker for any food either made by someone else or not from a box. Some would have thought the daughters of a doctor and nurse would have grown up on freshly cooked, nutritious food. Not at all. Lois had inherited her lack of skills in the kitchen straight from her mom.

“Lois asked for a demonstration of my cooking skills as a prerequisite of moving our relationship forward, so I hope you ladies like omelets,” Clark explained and then added, “The sweet rolls are from my mom.”

Lois didn’t remember making any such demand, except in jest, but he would hear no argument from her if he wanted to be the designated cook in their relationship.

“Where’s Lois?” Clark then asked. “You two haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

Ah, there was his usual nervous streak this confident Clark was missing. For a minute there, she had thought Kal-El had arrived to cook breakfast.

He did. Don’t tell me we’re going to have this argument again, Lois’s inner voice drawled.

“Shower,” Lucy replied with what sounded like a full mouth.

“Don’t even think about it,” Lois warned under her breath, as she dried her freshly shaved leg and heard a corresponding chuckle from Clark.

You know, since he’s invulnerable, you really have no reason to shave your legs again. Actually, since he’s invulnerable, how does he shave? Does he even need to? Or is his face consistently bare like his chest? Or does he shave his chest too?

Lois swallowed. She couldn’t imagine him shaving his chest. But Clark did shave his face. She remembered feeling a rough cheek against hers one of those mornings after they had spent the night together.

Yes, ‘spent the night together’ blissfully sleeping! groused her inner voice.

Why was she thinking these crazy thoughts?

Because at the end of the day you might be married to a man you really don’t know?

Lois’s heart began to race. What had she been thinking asking Clark to marry her? Today?!

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted these thoughts. “Lois, omelets okay?”

Come on in! Lois is naked and needs a good morning kiss.

Lois coughed and wrapped herself quickly in her fluffy robe. “Sounds wonderful, Clark.”

“What would you like in it?” he asked.

“Surprise me!” she replied, imagining herself opening the bathroom door and pulling him inside the steamy room for a kiss and that his hands would naturally slip inside her robe and… She started fanning herself with a fashion magazine her sister had left on the back of the toilet.

Oh, my! How could Lois even think of marrying a man who didn’t even know how she liked her eggs? What had she been thinking?

You weren’t thinking, so I took over.

Oh, God! What had she done? She couldn’t marry Clark!

Maybe he’ll choose to stay in the Wanda Detroit room.

Lois had made two reservations at the hotel The Niagara Lexor. She probably shouldn’t have booked it at Lexco’s / Lex Luthor’s hotel, especially after the man had kidnapped her the previous week. Plus, Clark considered the billionaire to be personally responsible for ruining the Kent Family by constantly upping the rent at his parents’ Metropolis restaurant, MJ’s Café. But Luthor had accidentally killed himself, and Lois had gotten a really good deal because she worked at Daily Books, another one of Lexco’s companies. The more they could save on this honeymoon, the more money they would have left to spend on getting a larger, less-basement, less-tabloid-reporter-stalked apartment. And furniture, especially a bed. Clark had specifically mentioned the night before that the first piece of furniture they should buy was a real bed. He really hated her horribly rundown futon couch.

She had made the non-honeymoon room reservation under the name Clark had suggested the other night for her alias, Wanda Detroit. A reservation for Lois Lane requesting a king sized bed might have garnered too much attention, especially since everyone thought she was dating Superman. The honeymoon suite, of course, was under the name Mr. and Mrs. Kent. She had told him the night before to choose which room he wanted to stay in.

Maybe Clark isn’t ready to buy the cow before tasting the milk.

Lois pressed her lips together at this metaphor. She hadn’t appreciated the reference to her being a cow or the implication of “tasting the milk.”

Soorrry!

“Behave,” she mumbled to her naughty thoughts.

“Excuse me?” Clark asked back at the door.

Lois gulped.

Did that man have to have such great hearing?

“Nothing, Clark,” she called to him.

He probably heard you telling yourself he could suck on your toes anytime, too. You know, a few weeks ago, after that steamy dream I planted in your head.

Her eyes widened as her lotion slipped out of her hands. He had heard her. That was when he had dropped the juice. Superman doesn’t drop things! “Clark, I don’t know if I can do this. I’ll never be able to have anything private from you again.”

She heard him laugh softly to himself. “You know, Lucy, your sister really surprised me yesterday.”

“Really? What’d she do?” Lucy asked.

Lois smiled at Clark addressing her worries by talking to her sister.

Sneaky wench. Lucy knows darn well what you did! You confessed everything to her — well, not Clark’s secret — everything else to her before you cried yourself to sleep.

“The picnic lunch in the park. The weekend away. I never saw those coming,” he replied.

Of course, this was a two way street. You could always use that super hearing against him and tell him right now exactly what you are planning on doing to him later.

Lois grinned wickedly. Tempting. So very tempting. She opened the cabinet under the sink to pull out her hairdryer. Only it wasn’t there anymore. That cabinet was full to the brim with boxes of condoms.

Thanks for the wedding present, Daddy.

She tried to remember where she had put her hairdryer as her mind strayed back to Clark. “You keep listening to everything I mumble to myself and I’m going to start describe in detail to you what I’m doing right now.”

You’re looking for your hairdryer. That’s not sexy, Lois. It’s extremely unsexy.

He didn’t know that though. For all Clark knew, she was still rubbing her freshly shaven, naked legs with lotion.

Clark cleared his throat. “Say, Lucy, do you know if Lois has a coffee grinder?”

Now, that’s just cruel, giggled her inner voice.

“How should I know?” blathered Lucy.

Lois opened the bathroom door a crack and waved to her sister. She saw Clark searching her kitchen cabinets.

“What?” asked Lucy.

Clark glanced over his shoulder and saw her. No makeup. Hair unstyled and wet. Big fluffy robe. His smile grew exponentially as if he liked what he saw. He wore jeans and a t-shirt. No blue suit.

No extra layers!

Lois broke eye contact first, knowing what would happen if they kept looking at each other like that, especially with her naked under her robe. Lois waved her sister closer. With a roll of her eyes, Lucy set down her sweet roll and approached.

“Can you bring me my clothes? The ones on top of my travel bag in the closet.”

Lucy groaned with annoyance but did as Lois requested. “I don’t know what you’re acting so strange for. It’s not like you’d be showing him anything he hasn’t seen before,” her sister hissed, pushing the clothes at Lois.

SPLAT went an egg on the floor of the kitchen.

Oh, yeah, you could have lots of fun with his super hearing.

Lois heard Clark cuss under his breath as he went to clean it up. “Tell him it’s in the cabinet above the fridge.”

“What is?” Lucy’s brow furrowed.

“Found it!” Clark called. A few moments later the apartment filled with the scent of coffee and the loud sound of a grinder.

Lois quickly leaned over to her sister and whispered, “No, he hasn’t.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide. “You mean, you haven’t yet?”

Lois shook her head.

“Do you think that’s why Daddy suggested I should drive your car to Metropolis and keep an eye on you?” her sister whispered back.

Oh, yeah.

Lois wanted to hit her head against the wall. “Do me a favor: never repeat that again. Especially in front of Clark. He already thinks Daddy hates him.”

“OK. How could anyone hate Clark? He’s cute. He cooks. He cleans. You said he was working three jobs to help out his folks. He’s a total sweetie! What’s not to love? Does he have a twin brother?” Lucy asked as the grinder stopped.

“Nope. Sorry, Sis,” Lois replied. “He’s one of a kind.” She closed the bathroom door. “And he’s all mine.”

Clark heard you!

Lois sighed contentedly. She had wanted him to.

It was a good fifteen minutes later when Lois finally emerged from the bathroom dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a short sleeve black mock turtleneck that clung to her curves. Hairdryer found, she had been able to style her not-quite-shoulder-length hair just so. Her hint of makeup was perfect. Transformation from the monster he had seen before was complete. Clark still stood at the stove and the most wonderful smells permeated the apartment.

Lucy’s plate was already empty and she was leaning back in her seat, nursing the last of her coffee. “Lois! You’ve got to try this! I never knew food could be an orgasmic experience,” Lucy rambled incoherently.

Please don’t tell me my boyfriend gave you an orgasmic experience, Lucy!

Lois ignored her as she went into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Clark’s waist from the back, kissing his neck. “You’re hired.”

“But you haven’t tried it yet,” he said.

“My apartment isn’t filled with black smoke and firemen aren’t beating down my door,” Lois told him as he turned around and wrapped his arms around her. “That already makes you a better cook than me.”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he murmured, kissing her. “Good morning.”

We must go standby for an earlier flight. Must have this man, now!

“Go, sit down,” Clark continued before releasing hold of her. Suddenly, she felt bereft without his touch. In a daze, Lois did what she was bid.

What are you going to do if he says for you to cancel the honeymoon suite? Will you still want to go away with him after such a rejection? Even after telling him you would? Could you still make love to him, knowing he wasn’t ready to make a lifetime commitment to you today? I know I could, but could you?

Lois didn’t know. She loved Clark, but after humiliating herself the night before by announcing she wanted to elope this weekend and having him say that he needed to think about it…

Clark turned around from the counter holding a red rose. He knelt down before Lois on one knee handing her the flower. “Lois Olive Lane, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her heart stopped.

Um… Yes?

When Lois didn’t respond, he continued, “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend — a complete dense idiot at times even — but I promise you I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that no one could be more deserving of your precious love than…”

Lois flew into his arms and she knew it was only his super strength that stopped them from toppling over. “Oh, Clark,” she whispered, kissing him. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? Lois! What kind of response is that to a marriage proposal?” scolded her sister.

I’m thinking the same thing.

Clark understood though. He understood that making her wait for his decision had felt like torture for her. “I needed to get this,” he said to her unasked question, pulling out a ring. It wasn’t big or gaudy, but a plain simple band with a small diamond. She held out her shaking hand and let him slip it on her finger.

“How?” she stammered, knowing he couldn’t afford even this ring.

Clark gave a wary smile. “This was my Nana Clark’s ring.”

Lucy clapped. “Ooooh! You’ve got your something old!” She jumped up and ran into the bathroom, returning with an elegant hair clip. “Something borrowed. Bor-rowed! You’ve got to give it back.”

Lois chuckled at her sister’s delight, but her eyes drifted back to the man upon whose knee she sat. “Got it.”

“Let’s see,” mumbled Lucy. “Something old, something new…”

“My dress is new,” Lois said, a slight flush coming to her cheeks. Yep, she had splurged and bought a dress on the off-chance that Clark would agree to marry her this weekend. Nothing fancy or meringue like, just simple, billowy and off-white.

“Okay. Old, new, borrowed and blue. Hmmm. Blue?” Lucy’s brow furrowed.

A smile crossed Clark’s lips as he gazed at Lois. “Got it.”

Lois pulled him to her and kissed him again. Holding him in her arms, she whispered in his ear, “You are bringing the suit, right?”

“Don’t fly anywhere without it,” he murmured back against her neck.

The toaster popped and Lois suddenly found herself back in her seat at the table. “Breakfast!” Clark called, rushing into the kitchen.

Oh, you could certainly get used to him around the house. Wonder if there’s a room he isn’t good in? Doubting it.

“You never told me what your father sent us,” Clark said, setting a scrumptious looking plate with an omelet, toast, and sliced strawberries in front of her.

Lois shot him a grin and then quickly looked away, her cheeks red. “You’ll see.”

Clark raised a brow at this vague answer.

Lucy looked between them, her arms crossed, and then her jaw dropped. “Daddy sent those?” She roared with laughter.

Lois took a bite of her food, avoiding his eye contact. “This is really good, Clark.”

Clark stared at Lucy before turning his gaze to his fiancée. “Those?”

“He is a bit over protective,” Lois mumbled. “And he’s a doctor…”

Clark blanched and then disappeared into the bathroom; he returned two bites later. “Lois, there must be twenty…”

“Twenty-one if you count the box you bought,” Lois corrected softly, still avoiding his gaze.

“Things are looking up,” giggled Lucy.

Lois marked her sister for death with her gaze.

She is soooo moving out!

“Ooooh, that reminds me. Mr. White gave me something for you guys,” Lucy said, getting up from the table. “He said since you weren’t going to make it to the all-store meeting on Sunday morning…” She started tossing stuff into the air and eventually returned with a #10 envelope with Lois and Clark’s names on it, handing it to Clark. “It’s probably information on the holiday sales promotions for the store.”

“But I don’t work for Daily Books anymore,” Clark said, staring at the envelope. He turned it over and paused. “What’s this?” He held up the envelope to Lois.

Across the back flap Perry had written, Do not open until after the wedding.

“I may have mentioned something of my plans to Perry,” Lois replied with a shrug. “When I went to tell him I wasn’t coming into work this weekend.”

Clark shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Even Perry knew before me.”

Lois reached over and touched his hand. “How about we go to the airport after breakfast and see if we can get an earlier flight?”

He raised a brow and grinned. “Now, there’s an idea.”

***

Friday — early afternoon

Clark never thought that he would ever fly in a plane. Sure, he had always wanted to. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been obsessed with planes, flying, even the space program, but there had never been a reason for him to get on a plane before.

When he was little, everything he could possibly want to do was within his grasp in Metropolis and there wasn’t anyone anywhere else — no grandparents or uncles or aunts or even cousins — for him to get on a plane to visit. And then at eighteen, he learned he didn’t need a plane to fly to all the great places in the world that interested him. But the little boy inside of him had still always wondered, always dreamed what it would be like to actually sit on an airplane and fly.

It was a lot more cramped than he expected.

He glanced over at his fiancée. Lois was bending down, pulling a magazine out of her carry-on bag she had just kicked under the seat in front of her. She had bought some magazines and chocolate bars at the newsstand at the Metropolis International Airport (MET, he had discovered) for their flight to Buffalo (BUF) and the preceding wait.

When she sat up, Lois noticed him gazing at her and smiled. No, “smiled” was too plain a word for what Lois did when her lips curved upwards like that. When it came to Lois, Clark was at a loss for words. And breath. He had never thought he would meet a woman who could steal his breath away from him with a glance, and then he had met Lois. She had captured his heart with one roll of her eyes at Cat Grant, the auburn-haired woman who had been flirting with him.

Dazzle! No, dazzle didn’t work for her smile either. He would have to concentrate longer to find just the right word. The problem was that Clark had difficulty thinking around Lois lately. When she looked at him, everything else zipped right out of his head.

He was a fool in love.

A horny fool in love.

Lois took hold of his hand and patted it reassuringly. Then she reached over and fastened his seatbelt.

An extremely uncomfortable, horny fool in love.

Clark shifted in his seat. Why, oh why, did she have to touch him like that, right now? Didn’t she know what her slightest touch did to him? He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it.

He had been doing that a lot lately. He and Lois had been trying to make love for the past two weeks, but something or someone always seemed to interrupt them. He had never thought he would meet a woman so accepting of him to even attempt to make love to him. Well, not since Lana Lang had smashed his heart and ego almost ten years earlier. And then he had met Lois and knew he had to give love a try again.

At first, just the thought of making love to Lois terrified Clark. What if he hurt her in his enthusiasm? What if he lost control? What if he went too fast?

Lois kept patiently reassuring him every step of the way, moving their relationship closer and closer to intimacy, step by gradual step. Until that one night his fear had just dissolved away. They had gotten so far in their — he decided “cuddling” was the appropriate word choice, although “petting” was probably more accurate, but he didn’t like the canine connotation — cuddling that they had ended up lying on the ceiling of his tiny bedroom in his folks’ apartment.

If only they hadn’t left the condoms at her place that night.

Clark sighed. He lived in that tiny room, slept on his old twin bed, and shared an apartment with his folks only so that the money saved from having a place of his own could go straight into the lease for their restaurant, MJ’s Café. It hadn’t felt like “his” home since he had moved out to travel the world after graduating from community college seven years earlier. So, it was probably for the best that their first time — his and Lois’s first time and his very first time — hadn’t been with his folks in the very next room.

His and Lois’s relationship had been a rocky one from the start, but Clark loved her and Lois loved him, and they were flying off to get married. Eloping to Niagara Falls, NY. They were going to find someone to marry them as soon as they got to the city. They even had the marriage license, which was currently burning a hole in his pocket.

Lois feared that once they started making love, she wasn’t going to be able to stop for days, so they needed to find someone to marry them tonight or the weekend would disappear and the opportunity would be lost. He grinned. For some strange reason, he was okay with that.

Actually, this whole trip was Lois’s idea. She had invited him to the boat pond at New York City’s Central Park, just the day before, and proposed. His brow wrinkled in thought.

No, she hadn’t. She had asked him if he could accept the wedding vows and when he had dumbly — not that he was stupid, just unable to see what she was laying out before him in her round-about way — told her that he would love her in sickness and health, for richer and for poorer, ‘til death did them part, Lois had simply said, “Then marry me.” There had been no proposal, just the command.

He chuckled to himself. How could he have possibly refused? Next thing he knew, Lois had grabbed his hand and rushed him off to get their license.

Technically, Lois and Clark didn’t have to get married this weekend. There wasn’t any great need to do so. They hadn’t decided to marry before making love; it had just turned out that way. Lois had told him the night before that while their latest interrupter — Lois’s kid sister Lucy — was off at her new job at Daily Books, that if she and Clark started making love, Lois would not want to — or be able to — stop. Ever.

She had said, and he was quoting from memory, “When I make love to you, I’m not going to want to stop. And when I need to sleep, I want to do so in your arms. I want your face to be the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see in the morning.”

So, once again, they hadn’t even started. They knew that sooner or later Lucy would come back to Lois’s basement apartment. Lucy had commandeered it when she had shown up unexpectedly and uninvited on Wednesday night.

Clark sighed. He was tempted to hit the armrest of his seat in frustration, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. No point in bringing the plane down before they had even taxied to the runway.

Apparently, Lois had flown before. Back and forth between Metropolis and Topeka, Kansas, those two years she had attended Metropolis University before transferring to a smaller liberal arts college, which would let her work on their school newspaper hassle-free.

Clark didn’t want to think about what Lois told him Linda King and that so-called editor at the Metropolis University student newspaper had done to her. He couldn’t believe he had let that witch interview Superman or even that he had given her a lift back to the Metropolis Star’s newsroom.

Never again! Anyone who befouled the name of Lois Lane would not be getting any preferential treatment from Superman, that was for sure.

Actually, that was another reason Clark Kent and Lois Lane were rushing off to get married this weekend. Because in the beginning Superman had paid so much attention to nobody Lois Lane, former reporter for the Smallville Post — how could he not? The woman was his girlfriend for Pete’s sake! — that his alter-ego’s and his girlfriend’s name had been invariably tied together. She had even been the one to give him the moniker Superman. Much better than “The Flying Man,” which everyone had been calling him before that. Pictures of Lois and Superman had peppered such noble rags as Dirt Digger Weekly, National Inquisitor, and Exposé.

With Lois and Clark officially married, Superman would be able to honestly say at last, “I am not dating Lois Lane.” Or would “Lois Lane is not my girlfriend” be better? He hadn’t decided which misdirection to use when he flew back to Metropolis the next day and happened to talk to the press. He didn’t want to leave Lois in the middle of their honeymoon either, but this would be Superman’s wedding gift to them.

It was also why they were heading to Niagara Falls in an airplane instead of taking Superman Express. Lois and Clark needed to be seen by the press at the airport, taking a plane, and “avoiding” photographers.

To ensure this, Lois had gotten herself a baseball cap and a pair of ridiculously huge Jackie O. type sunglasses. She said it was the disguise most celebrities wore whenever the paparazzi discovered them. She had also made an anonymous phone call to her least favorite stalker, Leo Nunk — reporter for the National Inquisitor — informing him that she had overheard Lois Lane at a coffee shop discussing taking an airplane trip with her boyfriend that afternoon. Low and behold, the slime of the journalism world had fallen in line and en masse to photograph them at the Metropolis International Airport.

The plane started to move and Lois took hold of his hand again. “This is it,” she said, smiling at him.

He took a deep breath and placed a fake smile to his lips.

“Clark…” She laughed. “You have flown before. Remember, it’s the safest way to travel.”

His fake smile grew bigger. Flying in a tin can and flying on his own, completely different.

“You and I both know this plane will never crash,” she reminded him with a twinkle in her eye, giving his hand another squeeze.

The plane eventually got to the front of the line and started racing down the runway. Clark let go of Lois’s hand and gripped the armrests on either side of him.

“Stop it.” Lois chuckled under her breath, still flipping through her magazine. “What will the pilots think if we take off early?”

“I’m not…” And then Clark realized he was and he let go of the armrests. “Sorry. Force of habit,” he apologized sheepishly.

Lois leaned over and whispered, “I know a much better way to make the plane take off faster.” She started kissing him from his ear, slowly working her lips across his cheek until she reached his mouth at the very moment the plane’s tires took off from the tarmac. Lois’s fingers snaked across his chest caressing his ribs under his shirt. He certainly was floating out of his seat under this barrage of kisses. Good thing she had fastened his seatbelt.

Then her hand and lips disappeared. “There. Now we’re up in the air with no help at all from you,” she said quietly, returning to her magazine.

Clark opened his eyes and looked at the clouds outside his window. “This is surreal.”

Lois laughed. “You’re funny. This is surreal?” she repeated, shaking her head.

He took hold of her hand, lacing their fingers. “This is surreal.”

“This is very real, Clark,” she said, shutting her magazine and focusing her attention on him.

“I keep having this feeling that this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up to find you still not acknowledging my existence and mooning over Claude.”

“That was the nightmare,” she corrected with a slight shiver. “But you’re right. This is very dreamlike.”

“How can someone as wonderful as you love me?” Clark asked rhetorically.

Lois grinned. “How can someone as wonderful as me not love you?”

Clark noticed she was still the wonderful one in her scenario. He didn’t mind.

Radiant. That was what Lois’s smile was. Radiant like sunshine. He sighed as he gazed at her. “How long is this flight anyway? Five minutes? Ten?” he asked hopefully.

“An hour and a half.”

His face fell. “That long? I could circumnavigate the world a thousand times in half as much time,” he mumbled.

“In a hurry?” Lois glanced at him through the corner of her eye. “Have some place to be?”

“Minx,” he murmured. The hour and half would seem like eternity, especially since he and Lois still had to drive from Buffalo to Niagara Falls, get married, and get checked in to the hotel before they could finally arrive at their honeymoon suite. Then time would fly. He gulped, hoping not everything went too quickly.

“I’ve got an idea to distract you,” Lois said, pulling her carry-on out from under the seat in front of her and pulling out a couple of small notebooks and pens from inside it. “Let’s write our marriage vows.”

“What about richer and poorer, sickness and health, until death do us part?”

“Nah. Doesn’t really work for some of us.” She raised her brow. “I’ve taken the liberty of drafting some of your vows already. Let me know what you think.”

Clark opened the notebook she had handed him and started chuckling. “Obey?”

“Yes,” she said innocently with a bat of those luscious lashes. “Obey.”

“Lois, you need to stop treating me like a dog,” he stated, pressing his lips together.

“I do not,” she protested.

This time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Who hit me with a rolled up newspaper? Who suggested I do ‘tricks’? Who tells me to fetch dinner? Who wants me to ‘obey’?”

“I do not tell you to ‘fetch’ dinner. You volunteer!” Lois nudged him and then grinned demurely. “Who has a tendency to not stay and listen to what I have to say? Always jumping to the wrong conclusions? I thought ‘obey’ worked to overrule those bad traits of yours.”

Clark leaned back in his seat, his jaw set, and his arms crossed. “Okay. I’ll ‘obey’ if you will.”

“Well, that’s… that’s…” his fiancée sputtered before catching his serious expression. “Fine! Scratch out ‘obey.’”

“I don’t think this is quite fair,” he said, setting his notebook down in his lap.

The ‘Fasten Your Seatbelt’ sign chimed and went out, and Lois lowered her tray table, putting her notebook on it. “What’s not fair?”

“That you get to write my vows, and I don’t get to do yours,” he responded wryly. “I should at least be able to write a rough draft.” A smile peeked out from his pressed lips.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” she said, tossing her notebook over to him.

Clark grinned naughtily. “Can I make your clothing optional?”

“Clark!” She laughed, nudging him again. “No.” After a moment of looking down at the vows she had written for him again, Lois asked hesitantly, “You don’t like my clothes?”

He leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “Not when they’re on.”

She kissed him again and their vows lay forgotten for the time being.

***

“I… Clark Jerome Kent…” said the minister.

“I, Clark Jerome Kent,” repeated Clark.

“Take thee, Lois Olive Lane…”

“Take thee, Lois Olive Lane…”

Lois watched as he smiled at saying her name.

He loves you! He’s taking you!

“To be my lawful wedded wife…”

“To be my awful…”

Say what?!

Lois raised an eyebrow as her lips pressed together.

Clark cleared his throat and as a slight flush rose to his cheeks. “LAWFUL, law-ful wedded wife…” He glanced nervously at the minister and exhaled.

Better.

The preacher returned Clark’s smile, reassuring him. “To have and to hold…”

“To. Have. And. To. Hold…” Clark was enunciating every word, slowly and carefully, now.

“From this day forward…”

“From this day forward…” He repeated.

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

“Until death do us part.”

Clark glanced at the minister and then at Lois, his mouth stretching into a huge grin. “Not even death will part us.”

Lois squeezed his fingers as she smiled.

The minister glanced down at a couple of pieces of paper in his hand. “These are the vows you want to say?” he asked, almost skeptically, to Clark.

“Yes, sir.” Clark nodded.

Lois could see the man of the cloth fighting his inner desire to pass judgment as he handed Clark the vows she had written for him to read. Clark looked deep into her eyes as if searching for her soul.

“Lois, I pledge to love, treasure, and respect you from this day forward. I vow to share my decisions, my life, and the whole world with you. I shall trust everything you tell me, even if it sounds like a blatant lie. I promise to…” He paused and cleared his throat.

What did you write, Lois?

“I promise to…” Clark swallowed. “… banish the green-eyed monster that has dwelled inside my soul until now.”

You told him to KILL his jealousy? How could you, Lois? Who puts the word “kill” in their marriage vows? And Superman doesn’t kill! Thank the stars that he isn’t above editing your copy.

“I will trust you and that your love for me can only grow stronger.” Clark relaxed into a smile as if he liked the meaning of those words. “There is no other person in the universe for me, which is why I pledge my love to you and no other.”

Okay, great. Kiss Clark and let’s get out of here!

“I, Lois Olive Lane…” started the preacher.

Oh, yeah. I forgot about this part.

“I, Lois Olive Lane…” Lois repeated, staring into Clark’s eyes. Never had they been a richer brown. Deeper brown. So brown they were almost a black hole into which she could fall, never to be seen again.

What are you thinking, woman?! You are marrying the most wonderful man in the universe. Snap out of it!

“Take thee, Clark Jerome Kent…”

“Take thee, Clark Jerome Kent…”

Clark Jerome… Superman… Kal-El… Kent…

“To be my lawful wedded husband…”

“To be my…” Lois slowed down and spoke most clearly. “… lawful wedded husband…”

“To have and to hold…”

“To have and to hold…”

And to make wild, passionate love to…

“From this day forward…” said the minister.

“From this day forward…”

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

“Until death do us part.”

“Until death do us part,” whispered Lois; although, she didn’t think Clark could die.

Did invulnerable mean that even death couldn’t touch him? So, the only one dying in this relationship was her. The only one growing older was probably her as well. She should have put something in his vows about loving her no matter how old and decrepit she got. Clark did say that he would even love her and stay faithful after death, though. She exhaled.

On the plus side, Clark will never grow a beer belly or jowls or hair out of his ears, ever! He’ll always love you and look like this gorgeous man before you. Plus, plus, plus!

The preacher handed Lois the vows Clark had written for her. Luckily, she knew he hadn’t added anything crazy to her vows as she had to his. That just wasn’t who he was.

“Clark…” Lois swallowed as the words swirled on the page. Oh, gosh. She was doing this. She was actually getting married. After she finished saying this, she would be a married woman. A grown up. An official adult. Was this really what she wanted? She glanced up at Clark, who was blurry behind her unshed tears.

“Breathe, Lois,” he murmured.

Huh? Oh, right. Air into the lungs. In and out. In and out.

Lois blinked and glanced back down to the paper in her hands. “Clark…” She scanned the words quickly. Eloquent as he was, it still didn’t commit her as much to him as her words joined him to her. Was he leaving her an out? Did he still not trust that she loved him as much as he loved her? “I will never look at another, feel for another, or love another man as much as I look at, feel for, and love you. You are my dawn and my sunset and all the hours in between. You are my sunlight and my moonlight, my partner, my best friend, my soul mate.”

Nice touch. Oh, look, Lois, you’ve made Clark weepy. Okay, now you better read what he wrote or you’ll never hear the end of it.

“I agree to always love you, honor you, and respect you. I promise to have patience with my…” Lois smiled, pressing her lips together so that she wouldn’t laugh.

He did not write that.

“I promise to have patience with my husband, the lunkhead, knowing that with time and my infinite love, he’ll become the man I know he can be. I swear to give only true and honest weather reports from this day forward. I pledge to listen to you and not to fight reason. I vow when my safety is at issue… to…” Lois flipped over the paper. “No! Absolutely not! Clar-K! We agreed.”

Her tongue crossed her teeth as she dropped her hands from his.

Clark gazed at her innocently. “I agreed to what you wrote, Lois.”

“Really not feeling the trust here,” she snapped, pointing between them.

Clark waited, and Lois glowered.

“Do we have a problem here?” asked the minister, glancing between them. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry Clark after all, Lois?”

Clark blanched.

Serves him right. Putting that word into her vows. Humph.

“No.” Lois growled, her eyes in slits and her lips pressed together. “I’ll marry him.”

And torture him for this, every day of the rest of his soon-to-be short, miserable life. If he can edit your copy, there’s nothing in there about you not editing his.

“And when my safety is at issue, I will — on occasion and after much discussion — defer to your better judgment and experience,” she finally agreed, pointing a finger at him. “On the condition that you admit that I’m the better person.”

Clark grinned. “There was never any doubt in my mind about that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Lois clarified, tossing up her hands and almost losing hold of her bouquet. “That you admit that you’re not better than me and, therefore, cannot dictate my life.”

He took hold of her hands again. “I have never thought that I was better than you, Lois. From the very beginning I have felt myself lucky to be allowed the presence of your company.”

All he’s missing is a ‘milady’ and a bow.

Lois waited.

“If you will… defer to my wishes regarding your safety, then I will promise not to play dictator to your life,” Clark granted, stepping closer to her.

“Share and share alike?” Lois whispered, moving towards him so that only their clasped hands separated their bodies.

“With pleasure,” he said, holding out his palm to the preacher, who placed a small gold ring into it. Clark slid the ring onto her finger as he spoke, “With this ring I thee wed, Lois. I pledge my heart and soul to you and to keep solemn my vows.”

Lois took the other ring from the clergyman and slipped it onto Clark’s finger, “With this ring I thee wed, Clark. I pledge my heart and soul to you and to keep solemn my vows.”

“By the powers vested in me by God and the great state of New York…” started the minister. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now …”

Lois wrapped her arms around Clark’s neck and pressed a kiss onto his lips.

“… kiss the groom,” the preacher chuckled with a light shrug as the organist started playing again.

***

Mr. Kent carried Mrs. Kent over the threshold of one of the honeymoon suites at the Niagara Lexor. The bellhop stood just inside. He had deposited their suitcases on some luggage racks near the dresser and waited.

Clark set Lois down and tipped the man, who saluted in thanks and shut the door after him — moving the “Do Not Disturb — Honeymooners in Love Inside” sign to the outside knob as he left.

Lois kicked off her open-toed slingback sandals and held out her arms. “Clark…”

“Hold on!” Clark told her as he looked around the room.

They had had too many blunders in the past. He needed to make sure no snooping tabloid reporter or crazy billionaire had bugged their honeymoon suite with microphones or cameras. He studied the entire suite with his x-ray vision: from the walls to the large round satin sheet covered bed to the hidden mini-bar to the sunken bathtub to the gas fireplace to the TV beside the bed. Who put a TV inside a honeymoon suite? And next to the bed? Like they would be interested in watching television! Once he knew there were no prying eyes or ears then he could turn his attention to his wife. Clark knew if he kissed her now, this important step would be forgotten.

Satisfied that the room was exactly what it was purported to be — private — Clark then locked the door and even added the chain. He closed the curtains for complete privacy from the outside world. Now, he was ready to make love to his wife. He gazed at her with an expression of smoldering desire. “Hold still,” he murmured, remembering a few last second details to create an ambiance of romance.

Clark must have appeared to disappear into a blur as he lit candles and opened the bottle of champagne. He stopped in front of his wife once more and handed her a glass of bubbly. “Hungry?” he asked nervously. After they begun, he didn’t want a reason for them to stop. “There are chocolate dipped strawberries with whipped cream.”

He watched her glance to a small dining table by the windows that held those exotic morsels.

Lois licked her lips. “Later.” She set down her champagne glass on the table next to her and crossed to him.

Goodness, she looked beautiful in that ivory gown. He loved how there were no sleeves to hide her tan, muscular arms. The cowl-neck draped deliciously low both in the front and across her back. The dress moved with her, sliding across her skin like a series of lover’s kisses with each gentle step. It was so low in back that Clark had dared not to consider before the wedding what she could possibly be wearing underneath it.

But the wedding was over and they were now alone in the honeymoon suite; his imagination was once again in full bloom about what might or might not be under the dress that flowed down her long legs to her bare feet. Yet, he still didn’t feel comfortable about placing his shaking hands on her soft skin to find out. Would he be able to control himself?

Lois reached up and unsnapped Lucy’s borrowed hair clip from her hair, causing the pulled lock that had revealed her right ear and the curve of her neck underneath to fall back over and hide them again. He watched as she set down the clip next to her champagne glass.

She removed his flute from his stiff fingers and set it down as well. Then she pulled his glasses from his face and placed them on the table next to his champagne flute. Returning to his face, she kissed one eyelid and then the other. He didn’t know how he was still in the shape of a man instead of a big pile of goo on the floor. She took his hands in hers and drew them around to her bare back, pressing her chest against his. Oh, her warm, bare skin.

“Clark…” was all she was able to whisper before he closed the distance between their lips. His warm hands caressed her back, dipping under the edges of her soft dress.

“We’re going to wrinkle your gown,” he murmured, kissing down her neck to her shoulder, causing one of the straps to slip down her arm.

Lois shrugged her other shoulder causing that strap to slide down, lowering the bodice further.

Clark took a step back to admire her barely covered body. He needed to change out of his clothes. It would take too long for her to undress him, especially since he had on the blue suit under his grey suit. If she continued to kiss him the way he was feeling right now, they might discover another use for the phrase “super speed.” He was torn. Half of him wanted to stay and kiss Lois and the other half was ready to change into something more comfortable. This indecision had him rushing back and forth between his suitcases and Lois at top speed. Finally, he decided.

She gasped as he must have seemed to disappear from right in front of her. “Clark!”

He zipped out of his clothes, took a three second ice-cold shower, jumped into his new silky sleep shorts that his folks had added to his overnight bag, placed the box of condoms on the bedside table, grabbed his flute of champagne and laid down on the bed. He felt better now, less likely to explode with desire. Relaxed enough to playfully yawn, and say the stupid words on the tip of his tongue. “Wow! That was terrific, honey. Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Lois’s head snapped her gaze to his. “What?!”

A grin slipped onto Clark’s lips, and he flew to her side again. “Just joking.”

His wife glared daggers at him as a growl escaped her throat.

Yep. Stupid lunkhead. Wasn’t one of your vows that you’d stop being one of those?

“Don’t tell me you weren’t fearing that scenario in the least?” he asked softly. He couldn’t resist touching his wife any longer. He ran his finger down her shoulder, accidentally knocking her dress further down her body.

Lois wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled his mouth against hers fiercely, as one dress strap then the other slipped over her hands to drop into a puddle of fabric on the floor by her feet, leaving an almost naked woman in his arms. Clark’s hands caressed the bare skin of her back before he lifted her to his hips, her legs wrapping around him.

Oh, God. He had found his vulnerability. Lois Lane. She would be his undoing.

“Hold that thought,” Lois whispered, sliding her legs down his body to the floor.

Say, what?

Covering her chest as she went, she padded across the room to the table with the strawberries, the hot melted chocolate for dipping, and the whipped cream. She plucked a berry from the bowl and bit into it. Strawberry juice dripped down her chin as she glanced back as him, a coquettish expression in her eyes.

Clark could only stare at his almost naked wife and knew he would never be able to taste strawberries again without thinking of this moment. She then picked up the bowl of whipped cream and sauntered back to her husband. Clark swallowed, unable to move.

Oh, God, what is your wife going to do with you and a bowl of whipped cream?

With a nasty glint her eye, Lois threw the contents of the bowl into his face.

Clark nodded, licking the whipped cream off his lips as he wiped his eyes clean. “Okay. I’m thinking I deserved that one.” He wrapped an arm around her bare waist. “Even?”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t the melted chocolate,” she said between pressed lips, reaching up and getting a finger full of whipped cream for her mouth.

“Later,” he murmured, lowering his messy face towards her.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Lois shrieked with delight, running off. “Help! Superman!”

Clark threw his hands up in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. “Now? Now, she calls for Superman?” He zipped in front of her. “If it’s Superman you want…”

She ran off in the other direction. “No fair, Clark!”

“Fair?” he retorted, super quickly grabbing a towel from the bathroom and wiping more whipped cream from his face before he tackled her onto the bed.

Lois continued to laugh, tossing a pillow at him. “No super speed?”

“I promise,” Clark replied, holding up his hand in a Boy Scout pledge, before lowering his face to hers. “Super slow.” He kissed down her neck to her shoulder. At her collarbone, he glanced up at her. “Shall I start with your toes?”

“Later,” she murmured, bringing his lips back to hers. She pressed her almost naked body to his as her hands explored his chest, sending explosions of desire into each of his cells.

Clark paused long enough to gaze into her eyes. “I love you, Mrs. Kent.”

“I love you too, Mr. Kent,” Lois replied as her hand went even lower on his belly.

“Lois!” Clark moaned, as her fingers played with the band of his sleep shorts. His body shuddered with bliss.

So much for that cold shower.

Never had he seen more joy on her face. So beautiful. Lois was radiant. Was she supposed to taste this good or had he discovered another super sense? Taste. Mmmm. Lois. Heaven.

***

Oh, there was definitely no going back. Clark couldn’t believe what a dense idiot he had been. He had been nervous about this? This? This wasn’t something to be nervous about, but to be celebrated, to be…

Clark couldn’t breathe. Lois had once again taken his breath away. He opened his eyes, realizing he was now lying with his head pillowed against her chest. Garnering energy from somewhere, he lifted himself up and gazed down at her. She had a bit of whipped cream on her nose and he licked it off. Other than that, she seemed to shine with a radiance he had never noticed before.

Had he done all right? If she had felt a quarter of the pleasure that was still zinging around his body, then possibly he would consider himself worthy to be her husband. But he would try his darnedest to double that number in the future.

Lois giggled and opened her eyes. “Oh, Clark! We’ve got to do that again.” She kissed him. “And again… and again… and again…”

***

Saturday Morning

The sounds of a press conference woke Lois. She glanced up to find herself cuddling against her husband’s chest, only now he was dressed in a navy blue athletic jogging suit.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

“Morning,” she mumbled with a yawn, stretch, and a rub of her eyes. “Do you always disappear at dawn?”

“I went for a jog,” Clark replied, nodding towards the TV. “To Metropolis.”

Lois’s fingers slipped under his shirt and felt the familiar Superman suit underneath, then turned her focus towards the television. “Something happen?”

“Press conference about the Toasters’ arraignment,” he answered, removing her fingers and kissing them. “With a little wedding gift thrown in for you.”

Realizing he wanted her to watch the conference, Lois turned to the television as Superman thanked the fire and police departments. “And, on a personal note, I would like to offer my congratulations to my friends Clark Kent and Lois Lane on their engagement. May their marriage be joyous and fertile.”

Lois swatted his arm. “Fertile?”

Clark grinned, faux innocently. “Tempus did say something about children, didn’t he?”

Yippee! A baby!

Lois shook off that left-field thought. She didn’t want kids yet; she hadn’t even been married twenty-four hours. All she wanted was this man.

Okay. Fine. Make passionate love to your husband. I won’t stop you. Hey, can you try that floating thing again? You seemed to like that.

“Yes, he did mention Superman’s descendents,” Lois replied, referring to that crazy man from another future dimension — Tempus — who had tried to convince her not to marry that super fast, super strong, flying alien Superman, of whom she had never heard. By the time she had finally discovered him, she had already been half in love with Clark.

She crawled onto her husband’s lap, straddling him, and started unzipping his athletic jacket. “But I didn’t marry Superman. I married Clark Kent. So, unless Superman shows up in this bed…” She pulled off his shirt revealing the top of his blue suit. “Looky there, I did marry him. Ooops. And here I was trying to defy destiny. Oh, well.” She shrugged. “But if I just take this off.” She reached behind him to unzip the suit.

“Mrs. Kent, are you trying to seduce me?” Clark asked, his lips brushing hers as he shrugged out of the top of his suit. He rolled them over, so that he was on top and Lois had a full view of the television.

The LNN anchor was now talking to the reporter at the scene. “Well, it looks like Superman is denying rumors that he and Lois Lane are an item. Any information on this Clark Kent fellow she’s apparently marrying?”

Lois hit mute on the remote as LNN’s talking heads started in on her love life again. The image of Superman from the press conference was reduced to a small box. She watched a man approach Superman as he stepped away from the microphone and hand him a note. Superman then glanced at the note and nodded to the man.

“What was that about?” Lois asked, patting Clark’s shoulder and pointing to the television.

Clark dragged his lips off her shoulder, where he had just nudged the strap of her negligee off with his nose, to glance at the screen for a moment. He shrugged. “What?”

“The note.”

Her husband pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to her before starting to kiss down her neck again. Without looking, he picked up the remote and clicked off the TV.

“Professor Daitch from the EPRAD Center wants to meet with you tonight?” Lois asked as Clark reached her collarbone with his lips. She was finding it very hard to concentrate when he did that.

Then toss away the note and return his kisses, Lois. Hello, honeymoon calling.

“Why?” she asked instead. “Is he a big fan or is something wrong?”

Clark kissed her nose and sighed. “The reporters at the press conference were all talking about some eclipse that happened this morning.”

“An eclipse? In Metropolis? Don’t they announce those in advance?”

“Usually, but this eclipse happened when an asteroid passed between Earth and Jupiter last night, blocking the sun rays and, thereby, making the other planet seem to disappear from view.”

“And now EPRAD Control wants to meet secretly with Superman?” She rolled them back over, so that she was on top and Clark grinned. Then she slid off of him.

“Hey! Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up.

Lois padded across the room to her carry-on bag and pulled out an envelope. “We need to call Perry. This might be something.”

“Lo-is! We’re on our honeymoon. Let’s… honeymoon. What happened to hours upon hours of making love? Perry doesn’t want us to call him now,” Clark informed her as he was suddenly by her side, draping a hotel robe over her shoulders. “Why would you want to call the Chief anyway?”

“I’ve got some bad news for you, Clark,” Lois said, leaning back against his bare chest. “You aren’t going back to work delivering packages with MDS next week.”

“What?” he replied, confused. “Why not?”

“Your new work schedule is going to conflict with your old one.” Lois held up the envelope. “When you went out this morning, I opened this.”

His brow furrowed. She grabbed his hand and took him over to the dresser where they could see themselves in the mirror. “You’re looking at the newest and hottest reporting couple in Metropolis.”

Actually you look like a couple of half-naked honeymooners in need of a shower, a massage, and about a thousand winks… speaking of which, how about you return to bed?

A lock of Lois’s hair actually stuck straight up. She felt it and it was sticky. Whipped cream? Was that hot fudge sauce on her cheek? Clark was half-dressed with his athletic pants still on and the top of his Superman suit dangling from his hips. They looked awful. And as far from sexy and hot as they could be.

Lois gasped in dismay. “Who are those people?”

Clark turned her away from the mirror and swooped her up into his arms. “You are still the fieriest, most desirable woman I’ve ever met,” he said, carrying her back to bed. He paused as he set a knee on the silky sheets. “What did you say was in Perry’s letter?”

“We have been cordially invited to be full-time reporters for Metropolis Star’s newest competition,” Lois replied casually, watching him. “Thanks to Perry White and Franklin Stern, the Daily Planet is back in business. The doors open Monday. First paper hopefully will hit stands sometime this week.”

Clark swallowed. Then his eyes blinked. And then again. A smile tried to appear at the corner of his mouth. “You mean you are the hottest new reporter for the Daily Planet?”

Lois’s smile broadened as she shook her head. “We are. The writing team of Lane and Kent.”

He dropped her on the bed and took the envelope out of her hand. “You must have misread that. You’re a reporter and I’m a security guard, right?”

Lois shook her head, stood up on the bed, and leaned over his shoulder. “I’m a reporter and you’re a reporter.”

“But… But… What do I know about reporting? Why would he hire me? I don’t have any experience. I never even went to college. I have no idea what I’m doing!” Clark told her, unfolding the papers from inside the envelope and sitting down on the bed.

She gazed at him skeptically and then licked her lips. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course I…” Clark seemed to freeze as he stared at the paper. “He wants to pay us how much? Each? I shouldn’t be earning this much, Lois. I can understand you earning the big bucks, you nabbed the Superman story of the century, but I don’t have any experience, except those few stories I wrote for the weekly Planet. I don’t know what I’m…”

“You are a fantastic writer, Clark. Plus,” she whispered, starting to kiss down his neck. “Perry knows I never would have gotten that Superman exclusive without you.”

“I don’t know…” he said, still staring at the letter.

“Clark, would Perry have offered you the job if he didn’t think you could do it?” Lois asked, nibbling on his ear. Then she shrugged. “If you don’t want it…”

“Not want the job! Are you crazy, wife? This is my dream job.” He tossed the letter up in the air and turned to pull her into his arms. “Of course you’re crazy. You’ve got voices in your head telling you to make love to me.”

Voices? Who said anything about voices? There’s just me! And after last night, crazy would be any woman who wouldn’t want to make love to you.

***

Saturday Evening

Superman walked into the EPRAD Command Center in Metropolis. Professor Stephen Daitch was looking through a large telescope into the night’s sky.

“I understand you’ve been looking for me,” said Superman, when the Professor stepped away from the telescope to make notes on his clipboard.

“Yes. Thank you for coming, Superman,” replied Daitch, awe in his voice revealing his opinion of Superman.

“Mind if I take a look?” Superman asked, indicating the telescope.

“Ah…” Daitch held out his arm to the telescope but then remembered something. “I thought you had enhanced visual abilities?” he asked Superman, a slight falter in his voice.

“Yes. But I also have my limits.”

Daitch nodded and stepped away from the telescope to give Superman a glimpse at the approaching Nightfall asteroid.

Clark looked at the bumpy rock hurling — apparently slowly, but in actuality very quickly — through space towards Earth and knew this wasn’t a case of something passing them by. Why couldn’t Lois have been wrong this one time? There was more to the story here. “Fascinating what kind of surprises the universe can turn up, isn’t it?”

“Hmmm,” Daitch nodded in agreement as Superman walked away from the telescope. “Nightfall is approximately seventeen miles across, traveling at close to thirty thousand miles per hour.”

“You told the reporters that much at the news conference. Why am I here?” Clark said, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to assume why Daitch had requested Superman’s presence at the EPRAD Center, despite having a pretty good idea already formulated in his mind.

Daitch showed Superman a computer screen with an animation of the asteroid. “If my calculations are correct, in little more than four days it’s going to hit the Earth.” He typed some keystrokes, and the animation came alive showing the asteroid’s clear path towards Earth. Exasperated, he exhaled. “The sky — literally — is falling.”

“What kind of damage could this cause?” Clark asked, knowing that it wouldn’t be minimal. But, as his mother told him more than once, there are no stupid questions.

“Superman, it could knock the Earth off of its axis. It could knock us off of our current solar orbit. You see, this one is larger than the meteor that caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. The crater it creates itself will toss enough dust into the air to cause a new ice age.”

As Daitch spoke Clark heard something outside. With a quick glimpse of his x-ray vision, he noticed two men — one in a business suit, one in a military uniform — eavesdropping outside the door. Superman pressed his lips together. “We’re not alone.” Daitch didn’t appear surprised by this announcement, so Superman continued, “You might as well come out, gentlemen; I know you’re there.”

The two men entered the room. The man in the military uniform spoke first. “My apologies, Superman. But we felt that you should hear the news from Professor Daitch first, before we introduced ourselves. I’m General Robert Zeitlin,” he said, reaching out to shake Superman’s hand. “This is Secretary John Cosgrove.” The older gentleman in the business suit stepped forward.

“You can’t keep this a secret,” Superman told the men.

“The President will tell the people, but he needs to avoid a panic,” Cosgrove told Superman. “Put simply, he needs to have you on board before he makes an announcement. The country needs your help, Superman. So does the world.”

Superman nodded his agreement. “But you’re asking me to fly a million miles into space to stop a piece of rock the size of Metropolis.” Lois would not be happy about this.

“You’re our only hope, Superman,” the General informed him.

“I guess we’re about to find out what my limits really are,” Superman said, more to himself than to the others. A part of him was not looking forward to flying back to Niagara Falls to tell his new wife that he was cutting their honeymoon short.

***

Saturday Night

“No!” Lois shouted, her hands on her hips.

Clark loved it when she let her fire show. And yet, he was still surprised. “Excuse me?”

“No. Absolutely not!”

He hadn’t thought she could be more emphatic, but she was demonstrating once again new depths of her anger. “There’s got to be another way.”

“They’re the experts, honey. They’ve been studying this thing for months,” he explained, wrapping his arms around his new wife.

“I want a second opinion,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder, calming at his touch. “To them you’re just a superhero, expendable.”

“Gee, thanks,” Clark mumbled into her hair.

“But to me, you’re the man I just pledged my life to…” Lois held him tighter. “The man I love, my husband.”

Those words would never grow old to his ears.

“I just found you,” she continued. “… and they want to send you into space like some kind of all-natural, environmentally-friendly bomb.”

“If I don’t go, they’ll send up a nuclear missile to break it up.” He cupped her jaw in his palm, placing a kiss on her lips. “I love this planet too much to risk nuclear fallout.”

“I know,” she murmured, making the kiss deeper.

“I can do this,” Clark reassured her. “I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know,” Lois whispered softly, but it didn’t sound like it to his ears that she believed the words. He didn’t know if she said them for him or to try to convince herself. “I know.”

Clark lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. There was an urgency behind his desire, as if he only had a limited time to make love to his wife, even though he wasn’t expected back at EPRAD Control until the next morning.

“Don’t forget the precautions,” Lois said, as both she nibbled his ear and dug her nails into his back.

Clark didn’t want to stop, but he paused long enough to look her in the eye. “Are you sure?”

Lois focused on something deep inside him. Whenever she gazed at him like that it felt like they were communicating soul to soul. “You’ll be back, Clark. We’ll float again.”

Stopping was more difficult when she demonstrated so much faith in him. But he settled her back down on the bed and zipped away for the condoms.

“You’re slowing down,” she teased, when he started kissing her neck again. “I almost noticed you were gone that time.”

“Saving my resources for tomorrow,” Clark said between kisses.

“No fair,” Lois murmured as they lifted into the air again. “It’s my honeymoon. I’m supposed to drain all of your resources.”

***

“Clark,” Lois whispered against his chest.

“Hmmm,” he replied, lacing her fingers with his.

“Can we get a second opinion?” she asked again. She had asked him before they had made love, but she doubted he had taken her seriously. Maybe now she could get him to listen.

“Nightfall will be here in less than four days, Lois. There’s not much time,” he replied. “This is the plan EPRAD came up with, and they’re the experts.”

Lois rolled over so that her chest was against his side and she could look him in the eye. “How long have you been around, Clark?”

He raised a brow. “On Earth, just over twenty-eight years.”

She shook her head. “No, Superman you. How long have they known about you?”

Clark shrugged. “Couple of weeks, I guess.”

“Right. A couple of weeks. And how long do you think they’ve known about this collision course with Nightfall?”

He shrugged again.

“A week? Two? A month? Six months?” Lois shot out lengths of time. “I’m guessing that they’ve known about this for a while now. Because there really isn’t anything the general public could do, I’m betting they weren’t planning on telling any of us. You know, the old ‘avoid the panic’ line.”

“Sounds familiar,” he admitted, reaching up and running a hand over her hair.

“I’m betting they were planning on nuking the thing when it got close enough and then this flying strong man showed up,” she explained.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Go on.”

“So, instead of working with your strengths and abilities, they continue with their bomb-the-hell-out-of-it plan only now using you as their quite inexpensive missile,” she went on. “My bet is they are still gearing up the nuclear option in case you fail.”

“Makes sense,” he replied, kissing her nose. “Who knew I was marrying a genius?”

Lois’s lips pressed together as she slowly raised her hand and he chuckled.

“Love you,” he continued, obviously trying to make up points lost for that statement about her intelligence. “What are you suggesting?”

“What if instead of using your speed to blast it to bits, what if you used your strength to push it off its current course? Then at least, I wouldn’t be sitting here wondering if my husband would be coming back in pieces,” she said this last part softly.

Clark tightened his arm around her. “I will always come back to you, wife.” He grinned. “Remember, magnetic?” He pointed between them with a wink. “Wherever you are, I’m probably not far behind.”

Lois smiled faintly at the new twist of her old line. “Could you think about it please? Discuss it with the scientific teams you’re meeting with tomorrow?”

He pulled her in for a kiss.

“I don’t like the idea of you being used as a bomb, Clark,” she murmured between kisses, trying to hold back the tears so he didn’t know how worried she really was. “I don’t really like this test of your invulnerability.”

“Okay, I’ll ask the experts. If you can promise me something,” he asked, stroking her bare back, sending new shivers of delight coursing through her body and causing her press snugly against him.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair and pulling his face closer to hers.

“Can you stop being so irresistible so I can get some sleep? I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow,” he whispered as she kissed down his throat, causing his voice to break.

“Nope. Sorry. No can do.” She shrugged, cuddling closer. “It’s who I am. It’s one of the drawbacks to being married to me. You’re just going to have to deal.”

“Well, if you insist,” Clark replied, shifting her on top of him. “I’ll sleep when I get back.”

“It is my honeymoon that the big giant rock is interrupting,” she said, wrapping her legs around him as they started floating above the bed.

“Yeah.” Clark chuckled. “Now, it’s personal!”

“Oh, that’s bad.” Lois giggled. “You sound like a bad promo for a TV show.”

“Sorry.” His chuckles turned into laughter. “Can’t you just see that tagline on LNN? ‘Superman vs. Nightfall: Now, it’s personal.’”

“Clark,” Lois groaned as she rolled her eyes. “Shhhh!”

“Shutting up,” he murmured, his laughter relaxing back into chuckles.

“You always have to have the last word,” she responded.

“Do not!” he retorted, flipping them over a moment before they hit the ceiling.

“Do so!”

“Do not!”

Lois stretched out her body so that she pinned him to the ceiling. “Do so!”

“Lois!” Clark moaned as his eyes flew open and stared into hers. “Lois! Oh, God, Lois!”

She grinned, shifting her body just a bit more. “Do so, Claaaaaaaaaaaark!”

***

Sunday — Noon

Lois sat alone on the bed in their honeymoon suite, her arms wrapped around a pillow and her eyes glued to the LNN coverage at the EPRAD Center. Clark had woken her up just briefly at dawn to kiss her goodbye before he went out on his morning “jog.” No, not goodbye, she corrected herself. He would be back.

He better be back.

Clark had left that early so he could have an extra hour of bathing in sunlight before heading off to the EPRAD Center in Metropolis. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that the sunlight recharged his batteries.

Maybe you should have made love without precautions, just in case.

No, Clark would be back, she told her wayward thoughts.

You could be pregnant with his child now, if you had.

There was plenty of time for that, Lois reminded herself. Clark would be back and they would make love again. Their honeymoon wasn’t over.

She hated that she would spend their last full day of the honeymoon alone in the hotel room. Clark had said that Nightfall was still far enough away that it would take him hours to fly to it and back. And that she shouldn’t expect him back to the hotel until after dark. But that he would definitely be coming back to her, no matter what.

Lois was tempted to call the main desk and extend their stay another day or two to make up for the time lost. Perry would understand if they took a day or two extra, wouldn’t he?

Oh, God! What if this is the one thing that he’s vulnerable to? What if the asteroid is the one thing — out of this world thing — that could kill him? What if he didn’t come back and you had to live with the guilt that you refused to make love with him without precautions, because you’re scared about becoming a mother?

He was coming back! Lois wanted to scream at these thoughts. Yes, she wasn’t anywhere near ready to become a mother. True. She had just gotten married. She wanted to finish her first honeymoon year before even starting to think about kids. There was still much she and Clark needed to learn about each other.

You hadn’t wanted to get married either, if I recall. But you changed your mind when you found out that Clark was your soul mate… your destiny.

That was different, Lois told herself. Getting married, choosing to spend her life with Clark, was not the same as deciding to create another being. That was not something to rush into.

Unlike marriage.

Marrying Clark was not a mistake!

It wasn’t. Marrying Clark was the right thing to do. Just like having his baby is the right thing to do. It would have let him know that he’s not leaving you alone… that he would still live on… should something happen to him.

If Lois had agreed to make love with him without precautions, then she would have been telling him that she didn’t believe that he could do it. That she didn’t believe he would make it back. Or that he could save the Earth from Nightfall. She would have broken his confidence in himself that he needed to get the job done, Lois argued with her inner voice.

But if he doesn’t come back, you won’t even have that little bit of solace… that little bit of Clark… to always remind you of him. To leave his mark on Earth. To carry on the house of El. You should have given him that! It would have given him peace in those last few moments of life.

Lois buried her head into her knees and cried.

If he doesn’t make it, it will be your fault.

Her fault? What had she done? Besides love Clark?

Exactly. You had continued to make love to him after he asked you to let him rest. If Clark fails… if he doesn’t return, it will be because you were greedy, wanting to make love to him one last time. He would have been more rested, relaxed, refreshed, and ready for the job, if it wasn’t for you.

“Clark! Oh, Clark!” Tears streamed down her face. “Come back to me.”

Glancing up at the television screen in front of her, Lois saw Superman walk through a crowd of reporters. She fumbled for the TV remote and turned up the sound.

“Superman has just arrived to the final staging area…” the LNN announcer Frank Madison said.

Linda King was standing just inside the ropes, waiting to talk to Superman.

How had Linda gotten inside the ropes? Why isn’t she standing with the rest of the reporters?

Lois sat up with a sneer on her face. She should have gone. She should be the reporter interviewing Clark… Superman before he flew up on his mission. Her! Not Linda King! Lois was a full-time reporter now for the Daily Planet. She should have been there. What the in hell was she still doing in Niagara Falls?

Right, like you being there wouldn’t have been a big huge distraction to Clark. Like you coming back early from your honeymoon with CLARK to interview SUPERMAN wouldn’t have raised a few eyebrows, like Leo Nunk’s or Randy Goode’s, especially since you didn’t bring your husband / reporting partner with you. Like you wouldn’t have been tempted to kiss Superman before he flew off. No, it’s best that you aren’t there.

“How do you feel?” Linda asked Superman.

“This will work,” Superman responded, his hands relaxed on his hips. Good, he didn’t have his arms crossed. He wasn’t anxious.

“That’s a relief,” Linda said with a sigh of relief. “Why are you so sure?”

“Because it has to,” Superman replied, with a slight nod.

Oh, that was just like Clark. A smile came to his wife’s lips. “I love you, Clark,” Lois whispered, setting her hand on his face on the TV screen.

“The power of positive thinking, huh?” Linda stated more than asked.

Superman nodded again, and Lois could see the tension in his face as he asked Linda, “How are you feeling, Linda?”

Walk away from the tramp, Clark!

“Scared enough for the both of us,” Linda replied, gazing deeply into Lois’s husband’s eyes.

What in the hell? That’s your man, not hers!

“I’ll be back,” Superman told her with another nod. “We’ll talk again then.”

“I hope so,” Linda said, reaching out to touch his arm. “We’ll go flying.”

BITCH!

“I have to go,” Superman said, turning away.

About time! Well, at least he didn’t promise to take her flying.

Of course he wouldn’t! He loved Lois. He was her husband. Superman would never take Linda flying again. He promised.

“Good luck,” Linda told him. As Superman glanced back at her to acknowledge that he had heard her, Linda grabbed his shoulders and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“What the hell!” Lois screamed, standing up on her bed, ready to throw her pillow at the TV. “Those lips don’t belong to you!”

Superman moved away from Linda with a look of shock and dismay clearly visible on his face.

Good! He hadn’t liked it.

He turned more sharply away from Linda this time and gave a glance over at the TV cameras. Lois placed a hand on his apologetic face, knowing he was feeling guilty for allowing that troll to kiss him.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” Lois whispered, touching his TV face. “She ambushed you. I know you love me.”

He looked like he wanted to say something to the camera, to her, but wisely instead turned away and walked over to the EPRAD science team.

Lois watched as the science team outfitted Superman with a communication link to ground control and some oxygen tanks. Clark had told Lois he could hold his breath for twenty minutes. Wow! Then he had admitted that when Lois kissed him that the number dwindled down to twenty seconds. Lois smiled. She had the ability to — literally — steal Superman’s breath away.

“Superman, I would like to offer you our tactical nuclear option once again,” the General said to him.

Lois couldn’t believe that the television microphone was able to pick up this private conversation. Of course, this was LNN, Lex Luthor’s news station, and it would not surprise her if they used less than honest methods.

“The EPRAD science team has given me clear indication of the asteroid’s size and mass. If I hit it at maximum strength, it’s their opinion that I’ll be able to achieve a fifty megaton explosive force to slow it down and then move it off its current path towards Earth. I think we should try that first and not risk nuclear fallout.”

Lois’s heart thudded in her chest. Her idea! Clark had used her idea for solving Nightfall! Never had she loved him more that at that very moment. He had listened to her.

And if it doesn’t work and Clark never returns, it will be your fault.

Superman, his red cape flowing gently in the wind, walked away from the General and the EPRAD science team to an open area. He took once last look towards Linda and the other reporters, bent his knees, and then took off into the air.

“Good luck, Clark. I know you can do it,” Lois said as her husband’s image disappeared from view on the TV screen.

***

Sunday — Late afternoon

Frank Madison’s voice drew Lois’s attention back to the television. “Several hours ago, Superman said his final goodbyes to the crowd. He was described as calm but determined. His last words were, and I’m quoting now, ‘I’ll do my best.’ He took off, and this time the entire world was watching.”

“Something’s happening, Perry,” Lois told the man on the phone.

“Thanks for the exclusive interview with Superman, Lois,” the Chief told her. “That will be a coup for our first edition.” Then her boss cleared his throat. “You know that kiss…”

“It didn’t mean anything. I know,” Lois assured him that she didn’t need reassurance.

“I’m being told that we have a live transmission from Superman…” said Frank on LNN. “We’ll take that live feed from mission control.”

“He only…” Perry couldn’t say the words. Obviously, being at the store, he wouldn’t speak the truth they both knew about Clark and Superman.

“I know Clark loves me, Perry,” she told him, moving the telephone closer to the television, so she could see as well as hear Frank Madison.

“I can see it now. In fact, it’s hard to see anything else. It’s immense,” Superman’s voice radiated over Lois like a calming wave. He had been out in space for hours and he was still okay.

“Roger, Superman. We copy you on the ground,” said Ground Control. “Stand-by for final briefing procedure.”

“I know what I have to do,” said Superman’s voice over the television. “Well, here I go.”

Lois took hold of the pillow again, clutching it tightly against her chest.

“Impact in five, four, three, two…” announced Ground Control.

Static buzzed over the microphones.

“Switching to back-up computers for corroboration. Confirmation. Asteroid velocity is decreasing. The asteroid appears to be changing course,” continued EPRAD Ground Control. “We are stopping the countdown clock at this time.”

Lois could hear cheers over the phone line at the bookstore and in the studio at LNN.

“This is EPRAD Control. We have lost transmission with Superman.”

“Well, his microphone went out,” Lois muttered over the phone to Perry. “I… I… He’s fine.”

“I’m sure he is, darling,” Perry reassured her.

“He has to be.”

“Technical glitches like this happen all the time, Lois. Why back during the lunar landing…”

Lois didn’t say anything to Perry as she slowly hung up the phone.

Clark’s microphone went out. That was all. He was okay. He would be coming back to her. He promised.

See, you should have let him get you pregnant!

“Shut up!” Lois screamed, covering her ears.

Oh, so you can’t even allow yourself to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

“Just shut up!”

Fine! Have it your way. Deal with your loss all on your own then.

The silence of her lack of thoughts was deafening. Lois ran over to the mini-fridge and pulled out the half-gallon of chocolate brownie fudge ripple ice cream she had bought shortly after Clark left EPRAD that afternoon. She had already eaten half of it. Sitting back on the bed, she stared at the television screen, waiting for it to tell her the good news that Superman was okay.

“He’ll come back to me,” she whispered to herself between bites, as her tears mixed with her ice cream. “He’ll come back to me. He has to.”

***

Sunday — Late

Clark was tired; exhausted really. Slowing down and shifting the direction of an asteroid the size of Metropolis took a lot more effort than he had ever expected it to. More than he had ever used before. But he had done it! His radio had cut out shortly after he heard EPRAD Control scream out with joy. So he knew he was successful. Nightfall was no longer going to hit Earth.

And now Clark could return to Lois and finish their honeymoon. He took another sip of air from the oxygen tank. He was so tired. If only he could close his eyes and rest. Or get some sunshine. Nightfall had been on the far side of the Earth from the sun, so he had had to accomplish everything without an extra solar recharge. Even now, he was still in Earth’s shadow. He pushed himself on, knowing he could relax once he was back in the hotel with Lois. She would have to let him sleep this time, because for the first time in his life, he doubted he would be able to do anything else. Even with Lois.

He was getting closer now. Earth’s blues and greens were appearing less marble-like and more distinct. He could almost make out continents. He took another sip of oxygen. Holding his breath while he was this exhausted was more difficult and he knew he wasn’t lasting twenty minutes between breaths anymore. He blinked his eyes and then forced them open. Almost there. Almost home. A sliver of sunshine blinded him from over the top of the Earth, causing his lids to close once more.

Clark forced his eyes open to look at his home planet.

Almost home. Almost home. Almost home. His brain repeated, relaxing him with its rhythm. Just a minute. He would rest for just a minute as he was almost home. Just one minute of sleep and he would be recharged enough to finish his journey.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

***

Monday — very, very early morning

The ringing of the telephone jarred Lois awake. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She had wanted to be up when Clark returned, but the hours had kept creeping by. Eventually she had turned off LNN, sick of the coverage of the celebrations that had broken out all over the globe at Superman’s successful push of the asteroid. Only Lois hadn’t felt like partying. Until Clark returned to her, she would have no reason to celebrate ever again.

She had been able to get hold of Martha and Jonathan a few hours before midnight. The circuits had all been busy until then. Clark’s parents hadn’t seen nor heard from him since he had stopped by that morning before heading over to EPRAD. He had left his change of clothes, glasses, and wedding ring with them — not wanting to risk losing them in space. They all believed he would stop there first to pick that stuff up before heading to see her in Niagara. So that phone call must be from the Kents telling her that Clark was okay and on his way.

Finally, Lois was able to untangle herself from the sheets and make it to the telephone. She picked it up and, instead of her usual ‘hello,’ Lois gasped, “Martha?”

“No, honey, it’s me,” Clark’s voice filled her with such joy. She figured it must contain helium for she felt as if she were floating.

“Clark! You made it back,” Lois gushed in her excitement. “I was so worried. Are you heading back to Niagara now?”

Her husband paused, before clearing his throat and then paused again. “Lois, I’m already in Niagara,” he finally admitted.

What?!

“Then why are you calling?” she asked, exasperated. “Come back to the hotel and I’ll show you just how much I love and miss you.”

“I’d love to do nothing more, Lois, but…” He stopped there and after another long pause said, “I can’t.”

Can’t?

Lois’s heart lurched. “Clark? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, honey, I’m fine. A little tired and wet but…”

“Wet?” Lois repeated.

“Yeah, well, I kind of fell in the river.”

Lois squeezed her lips together. “Kind of?”

Her heart soared as she heard him chuckle. “Okay. I crashed into the river and went over the Falls.”

Lois covered up the telephone, so Clark wouldn’t hear her laugh. When she was able to control herself, she asked, “Clark, where are you?”

Another long pause. He was obviously embarrassed, and she felt rightfully chagrined. Of course, he had still heard her laugh. But it had felt so good to laugh after the day she had experienced.

“Come on, Clark. I’m sorry I laughed, but please, you just told me you went over the Falls,” she tried to explain.

“Lois, it’s not that,” Clark said softly. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong, Clark?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, giggles overtaking her again.

“Lo-is, please. I don’t want to be found like this,” he pleaded over the phone.

Oh, right, he was in the blue suit and his athletic suit was in Metropolis. “You need a change of clothes?” she inquired.

“Yes! How did…? Never mind that. Yes. And a hat or glasses or something to hide my face when we come back to the hotel,” Clark said. “Thank you.”

“Where are you?” she asked again.

“Oh, God! Is that a security guard? Lois, hold on the line and be quiet…” Clark said before he disappeared. She could hear the Falls roaring the background.

Why didn’t he just tell you where he is, so you could work on getting to him instead of hanging on the line?

A minute passed, then two, before she heard Clark’s whispered voice back on the line. “Lois, do you know that cave tunnel thing that leads to the staircase by the Falls? The one where they have all the rain slickers and boots?”

“Vaguely, from the movie ‘Niagara’ with Marilyn Monroe,” she replied.

“I’ll meet you there. In the cave. You might have to break in or climb a fence or something. Do you think…?”

“I can handle it, Clark. I’ll get there as soon as I can,” she told him.

“Thank you, Lois. You don’t know how much I love you at this moment,” he replied, before hanging up.

Lois sighed with a smile. Yes, she did. She made a quick call to Clark’s parents to let them know that he had returned safely and that she would have him call them in the morning. Then she gathered up some clothes, stuffed them into her carry-on bag, grabbed her hotel key-card, and rushed out the door.

***

A half-hour earlier…

Clark had no idea how long he had allowed himself to sleep before the bright sunshine of morning had blinded him. All at once, he felt cold and hot and blinded by the sunlight. Hot because in sleep he had unintentionally slowed his descent through the Earth’s atmosphere. Cold, because he was too far North. He had flown completely over Santa’s winter wonderland and the sunlight was from Siberia’s afternoon sun. Superman then shifted direction and headed back over the pole to North America’s middle-of-the-night darkness.

He had never been so embarrassed in his whole life. Here, he had saved Earth from certain doom, only to have ended up flying over Canada… Clark wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but he guessed it had something to do with his slow re-entry though Earth’s atmosphere. All he knew was that he couldn’t fly into heavily populated Metropolis.

Perhaps he should have stayed in Northern Russia a little while longer and soaked up more of those healing rays, but he had retreated to the safety of the darkness of night on the Western side of Earth. If he had thought the photos of Superman and Lois on the cover of the tabloids were bad — and he had — they were nothing to his current predicament.

As it was, with exhaustion and lack of a sunlight reboost, it felt like he was flying drunk. That must have been why he had messed up his landing and had crashed into the Niagara River. The current was so strong and moments later — POP — over the edge he went. Fortunately, with the descent — the fall from the Falls — he was able to fly to the back side of the waterfalls to regroup and plan his next move. He only hoped he hadn’t been caught on any of the cameras focused on the Falls twenty-four/seven.

He couldn’t go back to the hotel — not like this — it would create too many questions. Nor could he fly to the balcony of his hotel room. What if in his tired state, he ended up on the wrong one? What if Lois forgot to leave the balcony door unlocked for him? What if someone saw him? No, Clark decided to call Lois and have her bring him some clothes, then they could return to the hotel as husband and wife — Lois and Clark — no one the wiser.

As he leaned against the rock wall under the Falls, Clark scanned through the falling water, searching for the next place for him to move. He saw the stairs climbing up the side of the Falls. He remembered seeing a brochure at the Lexor with pictures of happy raincoat-wearing visitors being splashed by the Falls. Scanning down the stairs, he found the cave tunnel where the rain slickers were kept. It seemed like the perfect solution… well, almost like giving chocolate to an angry Lois. He grinned at his analogy. A plan formulated in his muddled mind. Cave, coat, coin, call, clothing, and cuddle.

Coat to cover his… he swallowed. Then find a coin to use in the payphone. Call Lois at the Lexor Niagara and have her bring him some Clark clothes. Then they could return to the hotel and he could finally get some shuteye while cuddling with his wife. He knew Lois wouldn’t be thrilled with his non-honeymoon related exhaustion, but she would understand. Wouldn’t she? They had the rest of their lives to make up for this missing day.

Getting to the cave and putting on the rain slicker was straightforward and easy. He even lucked out and found a quarter on the floor of the cave. Thank you x-ray night vision. Unfortunately, the payphone he found was at the mouth of the cave under a streetlamp.

Hearing Lois’s voice felt like a dose of sunshine. For a minute, he forgot his predicament and to keep an ear out for anyone who might see him. Until he heard the jingling of the security guard’s keys. Clark hid against the ceiling of the cave until the man moved on, thankful the man didn’t check upwards.

Now, Clark waited in the shadows of the rain slicker cave for Lois. He heard a soft pat-pat of footsteps and pressed himself more firmly against the wall as he gazed through the darkness at who it could be.

“Clark?” Lois whispered in the darkness.

His heart exploded with relief and he stepped away from the wall. “Lois.”

She looked so stunningly beautiful, even dressed in those sweats. It was all he could do not to rush to her and gather her up in his embrace.

“Clark!” Lois turned to face him and then squinted in the darkness. “Clark? Where…?” She swallowed and yet he saw a smile slip onto those oh-so-kissable lips. “Where is your blue suit?”

He gathered his rain slicker tighter around his barely covered hips and butt, and cleared his throat. “I think it burned up on re-entry,” he replied softly, feeling the heat of a blush rush to his cheeks.

“All of it?” she asked, moving closer. The smile on her lips grew into a grin. “Boots, cape, shorts, and all?”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Yes!” he announced, exasperated. “Do you have clothing for me?”

Lois dropped the overnight bag off her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. “I want a kiss first.”

“Lo-is!” He just knew she would try to take advantage of his lack of clothes.

“My new husband has been gone on a dangerous mission all day, and I’ve been worried sick,” she told him, resting her head against his chest. “That’s the man I want to kiss.”

Of course! Clark felt like kicking himself for being a complete heel. “I’m sorry, Lois. It’s been a long, trying day.” He bent down at the same moment she went up onto her tippy-toes.

Her kiss sent an electric current thought his body and he wondered how he didn’t kiss her the moment she had entered the cave. Her tongue danced across his lips and her mouth took hold of his bottom lip. Clark groaned and pulled her closer as his body seemed to come alive with revived energy. He opened his mouth to hers and he felt her tighten her grip on his neck, almost as if she were afraid if she let go he would disappear. His hands slid down her back, cupping her bottom and lifting her up. She hooked her ankles around behind him, moaning his name. It was almost his undoing.

Clark still couldn’t believe this woman desired him as much as he desired her.

He heard the snaps as Lois ripped open the rain slicker he wore to climb inside and then she giggled. “Happy to see me, Clark?”

Of course, he was happy to see her. He was always happy … Oh. Clark chuckled realizing what she meant. “Maybe we should return to the hotel,” he whispered, setting her down.

A little pout of disappointment slipped onto her lips and he pulled her into another embrace. Her body once again pressed against his. His fingers went under her sweatshirt and brushed the bare skin of her tummy. Her eyes opened and focused such a look of desire on him, he stumbled backwards against the clothing cubbies in the cave. Then he laughed and she joined him.

“Maybe it would be best to wait until we got back to our room,” she admitted. “We don’t really need to be caught here.”

Clark gulped and closed the rain jacket over his naked body.

Lois smiled at him as she picked up her bag. First she pulled out her Jackie O. sunglasses and slipped them onto his face. “Your disguise.”

He laughed, realizing he had left his “disguise” in Metropolis with his athletic suit and his wedding ring.

Then Lois took out his jeans and a t-shirt and threw them to him. “Oh, crap, Clark. I didn’t bring you any briefs.”

Clark shrugged. “I’ll deal.”

“I didn’t know you had lost all of your clothes,” she exclaimed in her defense and stilled his hand as he went to step into his jeans. “Wear mine.”

Clark froze, his mouth hanging open. “What?”

Lois had already kicked off her shoes and was pulling off her sweatpants.

“Ah. No thank you. That’s okay, Lois,” he was somehow able to mumble, unable to tear his gaze away from his wife standing before him in just her panties and a sweatshirt.

“I don’t need them; I’m wearing sweats. But your jeans have a zipper and I’m not chancing you being out of commission for the rest of our honeymoon due to a zipper error,” she said as she slid her underwear off her body and tossed them at him. He swallowed, easily catching them.

“I’ll be fine, really,” he replied, holding her undies back to her.

Lois placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “Really? And have you tested your invulnerability on all parts of your body? Personally, I’m not willing to chance it at this time. Put ‘em on.”

Clark’s head snapped up as he heard the telltale jingle of the security guard’s keys in the distance. Instinctively, he grabbed Lois and pulled her to his chest. No, you need her closer in case you have to super speed out of view, he told himself as he lifted her straight up, chests together, cupping his hands under her bottom, his concentration still in the distance with the security guard’s keys.

Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and shifted her body only a hairline fraction, which was just enough to remind his body that neither of them were wearing bottoms. She gasped and stared at him with such an expression of yearning he realized that she must have been feeling something resembling the sensations that were currently taking over his body. This felt like the difference between sunlight and moonlight. Both were beautiful in their own way. This sensation, this feeling of Lois and him joined as one, felt like blinding sunlight.

“Oh, that’s new,” Lois finally whispered, a slight catch in her voice. Could she feel his aura envelop her in its protective shield? She covered his mouth with hers. It was as if she had started a motor he hadn’t known existed inside of him.

A small part of him tried to voice a warning to her about the approaching security guard, but the only sound he could utter was a deep rumbling moan.

Lois gasped his name, “Clark.”

That sound was his undoing as his feet left the ground from the pleasure of their love-making.

Her hot jagged, breath whispered into his ear as they finished, “I love you.”

Clark still couldn’t speak until he heard the jingle of the security guard’s keys echo off the walls of the cave. “Lois,” he murmured softly in a panicked voice, returning them to the floor and pressing them into the shadows.

“I heard it too,” she whispered quieter than he had.

“Ssshhhh!” Clark hissed.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” said a deep voice before a bright light engulfed them.

They were caught. Escape now would just give away his secret identity and Superman’s intimate relationship with Lois. He continued to hold his wife tightly to his chest, knowing his hands covered her bottom better than wrapping his borrowed rain jacket around her would.

Clark could just picture the next headline on the National Inquisitor: “Superman and Lois Lane Arrested in Trespassing Sex Tryst at Niagara Falls.” He gulped, thankful that at least he was still wearing Lois’s ridiculous sunglasses to shield his eyes.

Lois’s soft voice whispered in his ear, not wishing to reveal her well-known face to the guard, “Repeat after me.”

He nodded slightly in agreement. Between his long day, exhaustion from pushing an asteroid the size of Metropolis off its path, his plunge off the Falls, and his current passionate embrace with his wife, Clark’s mind was a complete blank.

“Just a couple of honeymooners celebrating…” she whispered.

Clark said the words out loud to the security guard.

“… having a future now that Superman has saved us from the Nightfall asteroid,” Lois continued into his ear.

He finished the statement, glancing at the portly guard through the bright glaring light.

First, the guard raised a brow at this statement. Then a smile tugged at his scowl. “Well, I’ll make an exception this time due to… um, circumstances. I’ll be passing by here again in twenty minutes. Make sure you and the Mrs. are gone by then. And no going out on the Falls Walk.”

Clark exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

Then he watched as the security guard walked back the way he came. At the mouth of the cave, the man threw the beam of light back at them. “And leave the rain slicker here when you leave.”

“Yes, sir,” Clark called with a nod. He watched and waited until the sound of the man’s jingling keys had faded under the roar of the Falls.

Without another word, Lois started kissing Clark’s neck once more. When she reached his ear, her hot breath tickled him as she began sucking on his earlobe.

“Lois, we really should be heading back to the hotel now,” Clark reminded her, his voice husky with desire.

“Uh-huh,” she murmured.

“Lo-is!” his voice cracked.

“You heard the man, we have twenty minutes,” she said, pressing a kiss onto his lips. “Let’s make the most of it.”

“I need to rest,” Clark moaned, as he felt her restarting that uncontrollable passion machine inside him.

“Your body says you’re lying,” she informed him.

Clark’s eyes rolled back in his head as his knees weakened, and he stumbled to the benches along the wall and sat down.

“Clark!” Lois slid to the floor.

The sudden coolness of the cave without his wife’s body heat caused him to shiver. It was almost as if she had taken his aura with her when she stepped away.

“Clark!” Lois gasped again, kneeling before him and running her hand over his hair. “Are you all right?”

He glanced into her eyes before covering her mouth with his. He pulled her to his lap once more, needing her body heat. Clark looked at her long enough to ask her permission with his eyes. A smile graced her lips.

“I’m sorry.”

Lois hugged him. “I’m not.”

“I shouldn’t have made love with you without precautions,” he explained, brushing a lock of her hair off her face.

“It was worth the risk, knowing that you’re safe home with me again,” she said, lifting up the sunglasses so she could look into his eyes. “We’ll think about the consequences later, if there are any. There’s nothing we can do about it now. What’s done is done.”

“I don’t like how I lost control.” He kissed her gently. “Did I hurt you?”

“Do I look like I’m hurting?” Lois asked and then chuckled. “Clark, you have no idea how fantastic a lover you are, do you?”

Clark made a gurgling noise in response.

“Maybe it was I who hurt you,” Lois whispered, running her fingers over his shoulders, pushing off the rain slicker. “Are you all right? I’ve never seen you so…”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, I did have an exhausting day.”

Lois took hold of his face with both of her hands and placed a tender kiss on his lips. “Shall we return…?”

Clark interrupted, deepening the kiss, tugging on her bottom lip, and running his tongue over her teeth. They should go. They shouldn’t remain out in the open, where they could be caught again. But he didn’t have the willpower to resist Lois at this moment. He wanted her. He wanted to feel the sunshine she radiated. He wanted to hear her moan in pleasure again, if he could.

“I was invulnerable until I met you,” he whispered as his hands slipped under her sweatshirt. “But now, I know what heaven feels like.”

“Are you sure you want to head back to…?” Lois couldn’t finish that thought as he took off her sweatshirt, so that she was completely naked in his arms.

For a while, there were no sounds except their muted moans from their love-making and the roar of the Falls.

Finally, Clark collapsed onto the benches again, holding her tightly to him, happy in the knowledge that he made her create that delightful wow-moan three times more. He could survive on that sound alone.

“I love you, Lois,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.

“You may love me like that anytime you want,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “But now, I need to sleep.”

“Not yet, Honey. We still need to get dressed and go back to our room,” he reminded her.

“Carry me?” she asked dreamily.

“Lo-is.” He would be lucky if his legs still worked to walk himself back to the Lexor.

“Give me a moment then,” she renegotiated with a sigh of contentment.

***

Lois and Clark strolled hand in hand back to the Lexor Niagara from the Falls. It was a beautiful night, and neither of them was in a rush. It was late enough that any celebrations from Superman’s rescue of Earth from the Nightfall asteroid had died down to sporadic enclaves here and there. Clark still wore Lois’s Jackie O. sunglasses and now donned her baseball hat as well. (And her panties — backwards for more coverage — not that he would admit that ever to another living or dead soul!)

The stars seemed extra twinkly, and Clark was married to the most wonderful and kinky woman in the universe. He didn’t mind that he walked barefoot — Lois had forgotten to grab him a pair of shoes as well as a pair of briefs — or that he had almost been arrested for trespassing. He still counted this as one of the best nights of his life. He had just guaranteed that not only would there be a tomorrow, but also a next week, a next month, and a next year.

He was debating whether or not it equaled or beat the night that included both Lois kissing him for the first real time and his very first official Superman rescue. This day equaled that previous day in pure joy factor alone. He grinned. Tonight he had made love to his wife twice and in a public place. Nothing could ever beat that.

Clark stopped and pulled her in for another kiss. It was just a soft, tender, and short kiss. Despite the temptation to deepen it, he really was ready to return to their room and sleep.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Lois smiled. “So you told me. One block ago. And two blocks before that,” she teased.

Clark liked it when she teased him. He liked everything about this woman. He especially liked that she had suggested that they get married this weekend.

“Did I mention that I love that I’m married to a genius?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

She winked at him. “Me too.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “A humble genius,” he mumbled under his breath sarcastically; not softly enough for Lois to forgo an elbow to his ribs before she wrapped her arm around his waist. He kissed the top of her head as an apology.

Finally, they returned to the Lexor. Clark wanted nothing more than to rush through the lobby to the elevators. The fewer people who saw them out and about, the better.

Lois kissed him just inside the doors and slipped the key-card to their room into his hand. “Go on up. I’ll meet you there.”

He was curious, but too tired to question her at the moment. He gladly moved on to the elevators.

***

“My husband and I would like to stay for another day or two,” Lois told the man at the front desk. There was no way they would be up on time to catch their mid-afternoon flight the next day — or more accurately, later today. Plus they had a whole day of honeymooning to make up for.

Didn’t you make up for it tonight? asked her inner voice, which had been unusually quiet since the cave.

“Probably for the best, Mrs. Kent,” said the man behind the desk. “The FAA only allowed westbound flights to depart today and no arrivals except from the east in anticipation of Nightfall. You know, get as many people off the coasts as possible. The airport is going to be a mess tomorrow trying to straighten out all those missing flights. And your return flight to Metropolis was probably canceled. I recommend calling the airline first thing in the morning to rebook. We had a bunch of cancellations here at the hotel, since all non-essential travel was canceled as of last night, so it wouldn’t be any trouble to have you and Mr. Kent stay as long as you like.”

Lois hadn’t thought of the snafus that Nightfall must have caused the travel industry. It almost sounded like a good article for the Daily Planet. “I might need to get in touch with the office, if we’re stuck here. Where’s a good place to get online?”

Perry’s letter had included all his new contact information at the new Daily Planet offices, including fax number and e-mail address.

“We have a business center on the second floor, next to the gym. There is a computer there with Internet. It’s only thirty dollars an hour.”

Ouch!

Maybe Lois would file any stories she and Clark wrote via the telephone instead. She glanced at the bespectacled man again, about to thank him and return to her room, when she focused on that one little detail. “Glasses!” she said, staring at him.

“Excuse me?” the front desk clerk said, confused.

“My husband lost his glasses today while at the Falls. Where would be the best place locally to get him a quick replacement pair?” She couldn’t have Clark going around in her Jackie O. sunglasses for too long.

“Oh, Mrs. Kent. I’m so sorry,” apologized the clerk, pulling out a phonebook. Quickly, he jotted down a several business names. “I’d check these places first.”

Lois smiled at him, sticking the note into her bag. Her stomach grumbled with hunger. Luckily, she had saved the two sandwiches she had ordered from room service for her husband’s lunch and dinner in the mini-fridge. She hadn’t wanted anyone to guess her husband had been AWOL from their honeymoon during the same time Superman was in space in case the tabloid industry had followed them to Niagara Falls.

Her stomach rumbled a second time in the elevator as she went back up to their room. Had she really burned off all the calories in that half-gallon of ice cream during tonight’s love fest with Clark?

Or maybe your metabolism is changing because you’re pregnant with Clark’s child.

Lois blanched and placed a steadying hand against the wall of the elevator. That was ridiculous. She and Clark had only made love once without precautions.

Twice.

It had only been an hour ago! Lois wanted to scream at her wayward mind. There was no way she would be having any signs or symptoms of pregnancy yet.

Right. Because pregnancies between Earthlings and Kryptonians are well documented and commonplace.

No! No! No! Lois grabbed her head as the elevator dinged, causing her to flatten herself against the side of the box in surprise. What in the hell had she been thinking?

You weren’t thinking. You were just feeling. And let me tell you, he sure felt darn-well-tooting good!

Lois stumbled out of the elevator and into the hall, leading to her room. That Clark did feel darn-well-tootin’ good, Lois had to concur. Clark was simply the best lover in the history of men.

Yeah. Like your three — or was it four? — previous bouts with men would make you a fair judge in this contest. NOT! You want a good judge, you’d have to lend your husband to someone like Cat Grant, who’s been around a man or two — or thirty-seven — in her life… Or possibly, just this year alone.

Not ever happening, Lois growled at herself.

Okay! Okay! Her inner voice backed off defensively. Just a joke.

Lois found her room and raised her hand to knock.

Are you going to tell Clark you think you might be pregnant?

Absolutely not! He would think she was nuts thinking such thoughts so soon. What was she thinking? Of course, she was nuts thinking these thoughts so soon after their unprotected love fest. No, she would not be mentioning these crazy thoughts to Clark.

Clark opened the door before she had gotten around to knocking. “Everything okay?” he asked. “Your heart is racing.”

“Fine,” she replied a tad too sharply. Then she covered it with the desk clerk’s information about the airports being a mess.

Clark seemed to buy this excuse full of malarkey for her elevated heart rate. He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Lois. I know today couldn’t have been easy for you.”

How had he known?

Lois had only been five minutes behind him, but in that time he had taken a shower, changed into his sexy sleep shorts and straightened up the room, since Lois hadn’t let housekeeping in to clean.

Gone were the dregs of her half-gallon of ice cream and the remnants of the box of tissues she had left scattered around the room. Oh, she hadn’t meant for him to see that.

Lois decided not to put up a false front this time as she returned Clark’s hug. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m okay. I’ll always be okay,” he reassured her, running his hand over her hair. “One of the great things about me. You never have to worry.”

She held him tighter. “Sorry, Clark, but you see that’s in my job description as your wife. To have and to hold, love, cherish, and worry. I’m sure I’ll get used to the small stuff, eventually, but the big stuff — like today — I’ll always worry about. You wouldn’t want me to think you were invincible or something, would you?”

Clark kissed her cheek. “No, I guess not.”

“I’m starving,” Lois announced, stepping out of his embrace. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “Strangely enough, I’m okay. I could eat or not. You’d think I’d be starving after the day I had. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”

She went to the mini-fridge and pulled out two sandwiches. “I’ve got your lunch and dinner here.”

“Wow!” he said, impressed, and followed her to the table where the strawberries had been when Mr. and Mrs. Kent had arrived into the honeymoon suite.

“And you thought I couldn’t cook.” She winked at him. “I had to keep up the appearance that you were still here, in case the tabloids tracked us to Niagara,” she explained.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to lie for me,” he said, sitting down next to her.

Lois shook her head. “What? You want me to call Leo Nunk and announce to him that you’re Superman and I’m your wife? Ain’t happening. I’m not lying for you. I’m protecting you… us.”

Clark covered her hand with his. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Clark! Stop apologizing, please,” she demanded.

“I’m…” He grinned and took a bite of a sandwich to keep the word from escaping.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Clark reached over and took her hand again. “Lois, there is one thing I do need to apologize for.”

She raised a brow and waited.

“That kiss with Linda…”

Lois waved off his concern. “Think nothing of it. She ambushed you. I know it wasn’t your choice,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know you love me, Clark.” A naughty grin slipped onto her face. “You’ve proved that tonight, twofold.”

Hey, great opening to tell him you think you’re pregnant.

Clark blushed slightly and swallowed his bite of sandwich. He leaned over and rested his head against hers. “Lois, making love to you is the most amazing feeling. When we’re together, I feel whole.”

“When we are together, I am whole,” she amended.

“But I’m never wearing your panties again,” he informed her with a very serious expression. “Never.”

Lois grinned and slipped into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Never is an awful long time, Cowboy. And you looked so cute in…”

“Never, Lois,” Clark repeated, his lips pressed together. “I mean never as in forever never.”

She licked her lips. “Didn’t the material feel nice against your skin?”

“Lo-is.” He laughed, rolling his eyes and lightly kissing her smirk. “I plead the Fifth.”

Lois giggled, standing up. “I’m going to hit the showers.” She ran her fingers over his bare chest. “Do you want to join me or…?”

Clark cleared his throat, gazing up at her. “Lois, it’s been a very long day. Would you mind terribly if I just went to sleep?”

She placed a smile on her lips. “I understand,” she replied casually.

Yeah, right.

He was at her side a moment later, kissing her. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Promise.”

“Okay,” she said, kissing him again. “Of course you’re tired.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I just thought you’d like to know that I’d be wet and naked in the next room, hot water dripping down my body. You know, in case you were wondering where I was or anything.” She walked away slowly and started dropping her clothing onto the floor as she went. She started with her shoes. Next came down her sweatpants with nothing underneath. Then finally her sweatshirt.

“Oh, woman! You are going to be the death of me,” Clark groaned, picking her up into his arms and pressing a deep kiss onto her mouth. “Tell you what. You take your shower and I’ll wait for you in bed.”

Lois bit her bottom lip. “Deal.”

Think he’s going to make it?

She wiggled her hips as she walked into the bathroom and left the door open. Not a chance.

Not if you have anything to do with it.

Bingo! Lois turned on the hot water and stepped inside. She closed her eyes and let the water cascade over her flesh like a lovers hands. “Mmmm.” She turned and leaned her arms and head against the cool tiled wall of the shower, letting the hot jets massage down her back. “Aaahhh.” Her eyes started to close. It had been a long day. Maybe she was more tired than she thought. Perhaps it would better if Clark were asleep when she got to bed. “Mmmm.”

Suddenly she felt a man in the shower with her, his hands and lips kissing down her spine.

Or not.

***

Monday morning

Since Clark had been awake almost twenty-four hours the previous day, Lois didn’t wake him when she got out of bed at nine the next morning. By ten she had ordered room service breakfast, taken a lonely shower, gotten dressed (in lingerie and a robe in case Clark woke up), and opened the curtains to flood the room with brilliant recharging sunlight.

Lois watched the sun’s rays dance along her husband’s back. Clark lay naked on his stomach across the entire bed, save the comforter that Lois eventually had pulled up from his hips and draped over the rest of him, so she wouldn’t be so tempted to wake him up. His hair was disheveled and he looked entirely too delicious.

She was on the phone with Perry when the food arrived, explaining the plane situation with her boss and why she and Clark would not make it into the Daily Planet offices the next day.

The waiter who pushed the cart of breakfast into the room, glanced over at the bed where her husband was still sprawled — and whose face was thankfully turned away — and gave her a knowing look as Lois signed the check.

“Exhausted, huh?” the waiter commented with a nod towards Clark.

Lois smiled innocently. “He had a busy day yesterday,” she explained, shooing the man out and shutting the door.

“Who was that? Clark?” Perry asked over the telephone with a chuckle.

“Room service,” Lois corrected, pouring herself a coffee. “Clark’s still asleep.”

“Still?” Perry teased.

“You push an asteroid the size of Metropolis off-course and see if you make it into the office the next day,” Lois snapped.

“Right. I guess I can allow the two of you an extra day or two due to the circumstances,” her boss amended.

“It will take them a day or two just to iron out the whole airport mess here in the Northeast. I was on the phone with the airline before I called you. The earliest flight I could get…”

“Is when your husband wakes up?” Perry inquired.

“Wednesday.” Lois pressed her lips together. “Do I need to remind you that I’m married to Clark? And Clark does not fly.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Anyway, the suit burned up…” She coughed at her mistake. “… was damaged on re-entry, so no flying until we get back to Metropolis and can get it replaced.”

The Chief cleared his throat. “Really? Was he flying…?”

“No comment,” Lois replied, wishing she hadn’t brought up the subject.

“Let’s hope there aren’t photos of that popping up anytime soon.” He chuckled.

“Let’s hope,” Lois agreed, picturing her naked husband flying through the air. She turned and stared at him again, biting her bottom lip.

Entirely too delicious.

“You want me to write up the story about the airport situation…” Lois said, shifting her gaze elsewhere.

“Honeymoon over already, honey?” Perry teased again.

“Honeymoon’s on hiatus while hubby’s asleep. I could make some phone calls from here. Of course, it’s thirty dollars an hour to use the hotel computer…”

“I’m not expensing your honeymoon, Lois,” Perry told her. “If you have a story, call Doris in copy to type it up for you.”

“Gotcha,” Lois replied. She didn’t want to pay that hotel fee either.

“Do you think Clark will be able to get official confirmation about Superman’s return today?” he asked her. “Should I leave space on the front page?”

“Do you want a story without photos?” she asked. “No suit, remember.”

“Right. Does he have any replacement suits in Metropolis?” Perry inquired.

Lois had no idea and told Perry as much. “I’ll let you know when we can get the interview, okay?”

“Okay. Lois, honey, got to go. Ralph’s beating down my door with some mayoral call-girl hooey. We’re keeping some desks open for you,” Perry said before hanging up.

Lois finished her coffee and a sweet roll as she continued to watch her husband sleep. Laying there on the bed he looked so innocent, so charming, so… Clark. He made sleep look good. She stood up and dropped her robe and slid into bed, next to him, snuggling her face next to his. She definitely could get used to this.

***

Monday Afternoon

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Clark turned his head and, there, in front of his face laid the most sweet-smelling pile of hair. Was that lavender?

The phone continued to ring a fourth, fifth, and sixth time. He didn’t want to move. He snuggled against her hair. “Mmmm.” Lavender and Lois. Soon to be his two favorite scents.

Bright sunlight shimmered on Lois’s hair, making it shine in the light. “Mmmm.” He continued to bury his head in her warm hair. Sunlight and Lois, the two things in the world that gave him energy, gave him the power to do anything.

The phone finally stopped ringing. Who would be calling them on their honeymoon? he wondered, glancing at the clock. 1:37pm. Really? Had he slept that long? Of course, his resources had been low before the third and fourth times he had made love to his wife the night before.

“Mmmmm.” Love. Lois. Wife. Possibly his favorite words in the English language.

Had Lois slept all this time as well? Clark saw the remnants of the breakfast tray and knew she had not. He still wasn’t hungry… although the other day when they had fed each other chocolate dipped strawberries while in bed… He had never tasted a better combination: strawberries, chocolate, and Lois.

The third time had been the shower. Oh, my! Lois wet and naked. Definitely the favorite tactile experience of his life so far. Just contemplating making love to his wife made Clark’s juices simmer. If he kept thinking like this he would be going crazy with desire in no time. His hand caressed her leg and slowly moved up her body as he remembered touching her in the shower. Her body shifted under his hand and quickly that “no time” boundary line had been passed.

He kissed her shoulder and she made a soft meowing sigh. He was reminded of the sound that she had made in the cave the night before. He hadn’t been joking when he had thought to himself that he could survive on that sound alone. Just thinking of that sound made it difficult to continue lying on his stomach.

Clark moved closer to his wife and kissed her shoulder again, noticing the strap of a black teddy he hadn’t seen before. She turned her head towards him, still half asleep, and smiled at him. That was one of his favorite smiles. The one where she looked at him like she was still dreaming. He returned her smile. There! That was his most favorite smile, when her dreaming smile grew larger as she realized he was real and she wasn’t asleep.

“G’morning,” she murmured, scooting towards him. “Was that the phone?”

“Mmmm,” he replied with a kiss to her lips. She tasted faintly like coffee.

Her thigh brushed against him. Skin to skin. He realized he had never gotten into his PJs after they had made love after the shower. Third time had been in the shower. Fourth time last night — this morning — had been after the shower when they had finally reached the bed. How had he had the energy to make love to Lois so many times when he could hardly fly straight, returning from space? Of course, truth be told, she had tackled him in the bed and had done all the hard work.

“How are you feeling?” Clark asked. After all their lovemaking, surely “sore” would be her answer.

“Mmmm,” she murmured. She slid her leg over him and pulled him closer. “Better.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t. Finally, after pushing out a guttural, animal sound that brought another smile to his wife’s face, he was able to say, “I love you.” It sounded rough and hoarse as if he were parched for a drink.

Lois’s fingers danced across his chest. “I love you more.”

His nerve endings sang in joy. He could play that game. Clark kissed down her neck. “No, I love you more.”

Her arms went around his neck as she pressed her chest against his, murmuring, “I love you more.” Her voice shook with the words.

His eyes rolled back in his head, as he was unable to contain the desire she was creating in him. “I love you more,” he corrected her, running his fingers playfully down her side and “accidentally” caressing the side of her breast as he did so.

Lois whimpered in approval. “You win.”

Clark ran a hand over her head, kissing that luxurious hair. “I sure do.”

She softly kissed him. “I could get used to this.”

Clark doubted he could. Every time she touched him he had a rush of excitement. He could never picture this feeling becoming old. “But maybe we should stop tempting the Fates,” Clark suggested. “If I get you pregnant on our honeymoon, I’ll never hear the end of it from your father, especially after he sent us all those condoms.”

She laughed again and Clark saw beautiful spots of color dancing around the room.

“It’s bad enough that you married an alien…”

“Clark, don’t,” she whispered, kissing him and pressing herself closer.

His voice cracked. “Me? Don’t?”

“Stop calling yourself an alien. It’s such an ugly term. And you are anything but ugly.” She took hold of his bottom lip and gently nibbled.

“But… I… Am… Oh, Lois!” he groaned, placing his hands on her waist.

She smiled. “Do you like that?”

“Minx,” he gasped.

“Relax and let me do all the work. You’re tired,” she teased in a whisper as she rolled on top of him.

“Relax?” Clark stammered, trying to let her be in control. “Impossible.”

“More?” Lois inquired, gazing down at him from her position of power.

“Yes!” He was her prisoner. If she kept torturing him like this, he would promise her the moon. And deliver it with a big red bow.

Afterwards, she collapsed on top of him, both of them sated. Clark held Lois to his chest and reveled in this feeling, in the joy of them floating together. He laid them back down on the bed. “I love you, Lois,” he whispered, when he found his voice again.

“And I love you, Clark,” she repeated, snuggling against his chest, her voice soft. He listened as her heartbeat slowed and her breath became regular. She fell asleep and he continued to hold her, his own eyelids drooping.

***

Monday — Evening

The room was dark when Lois finally opened her eyes again. She could see the faint touches of the pink and orange to the sky, hinting that they had just missed the sunset.

Clark is way too addicting. Mama Lois.

Lois cringed. It wasn’t like her to not to think of the consequences of her actions. What had she been thinking? To make love to Clark again without protection while he was in the process of warning her that they were walking the danger line? She placed her hand on her stomach. What if they had already made a baby with their enthusiasm?

Yippee!

A smile slipped onto Lois’s lips. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she knew that, but she liked the idea that she and Clark could create something from their love. She sighed. But he was right. They needed to go back to using condoms. She didn’t know if she could handle a baby in the same year she moved to her dream city, found her dream husband, and landed her dream job. Too much dreaming and a nightmare was sure to come along and disturb everything.

“You really should come with a warning label,” Clark murmured, kissing down her neck.

Isn’t that what Cat said of Claude?

Lois stiffened. “That’s not funny, Clark.”

“I just meant that Superman is invulnerable to everything but you,” he clarified. “You make me vulnerable.”

Suddenly, Lois saw herself holding a dead and bloody Superman with a torn blue suit and a tattered red cape. She pushed away from Clark; all the way away. “So, what you are saying is that making love to me is deadly?” she said sharply, her voice cold. “Even to Superman?”

“Of course not.” He stared at her.

“Right,” Lois snapped. She was off the bed now, pacing. “Why do you think Linda calls me the Ice Queen?”

‘Cause she’s a bitch?

Lois pressed her lips together. “You kill one man and suddenly…” Then her hands clenched and her eyes shut, holding the tears at bay. “A man would have to be invulnerable to survive.”

She heard Clark gasp as she turned her back on him. “No!”

Her tears came unbidden. She could still picture the cold, dead body of the young man to whom she had first given herself, when she had found him in the forest the morning after the second time they had made love.

“You didn’t kill Pete, Lois. The snake that bit him did.” Clark crawled across the bed and folded her into his embrace. “And you’re so hot you’re the Enchantress of Fire.”

Ooooh, I like that nickname. Much better than Ice Queen.

“Really?” she whispered, turning her head into his bare chest. Did he really believe that about her?

“Steamy hot,” he replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ever?” She held onto him tightly. “You’ll never leave me.”

“Never,” he promised, kissing her forehead. “That’s what I meant earlier, Lois. I love you so much that being without you would kill me. You’ve become a part of me. I don’t know how I’ve survived my life until now without you.”

“Okay,” she said. He always knew what to say to change her mood.

Sometimes for the better, but usually for the worst.

“You can shut up now,” she recommended.

You mean while he’s ahead?

“Nope,” he argued. “I’ll never stop telling you I love you.”

Well, okay, if he insists.

What had Lois done that was so wonderful to entitle her to this man? “I don’t deserve you.”

“And yet you’ll never get rid of me.” He chuckled, tilting up her chin and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

Sounds good to me.

Her hands covered his bare butt and squeezed.

Man of Steel, my…

“Lo-is.”

“Clar-k,” she teased him now.

“Why don’t we get dressed and I take you out to an actual restaurant?” Clark suggested.

“A date? You mean a real date?” Lois asked, her eyelashes batting as she gazed at her husband. “Like where I take out my best perfume, the one I bought after seeing Love Affair, the good one not the remake, and put a dab behind my knee, even though I have no idea why?”

He smiled, kissing her again. “Yeah, just like that. I owe you one.”

How many official dates did you two actually go on before you got married?

Lois raised an eyebrow. “One?”

None?

Clark swallowed as his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Okay. I owe you more than one.”

“No can do,” she told him. “We’re not leaving this room.”

He cleared his throat. “Lois, when you told me that you wanted to make love to me for days, did you really mean — literally — ‘days’? Don’t you want to go out?”

Lois bit her bottom lip, demurely. “Do you?” she challenged.

“Ahh…” he stammered, weakening.

“We can’t go out because you left your glasses in Metropolis, silly,” she reminded him with a wink before he believed she was a sex addict.

Ah, Lois… said her inner voice, raising her hand.

“Aw, shucks,” Clark said, lifting her into his arms and pressing another Earth-shattering kiss on her lips. “Have I mentioned how much I like your new teddy?”

Not in so many words. But sometimes words get in the way of actions. Why doesn’t he just show you how much he likes the teddy?

Lois smiled her gratitude at his compliment. “We could order up some pasta. Or would you like a bath first?”

Clark gulped, glancing over at the sunken tub built for two. “Pasta or wet Lois? Pasta or wet Lois?” he debated quietly to himself. “Maybe we should start with pasta and end with…” He cleared his throat. “… the bath.”

“Why don’t you set me down, so I can freshen up while you call room service?” Lois asked as she ran a finger down his bare chest.

He set her down, but didn’t let go of her as he cleared his throat again.

“Call room service, Clark,” she said with a chuckle, knowing exactly where his thoughts were heading as his gaze trailed down to her chest.

“Right. Food,” he said, turning quickly away from her.

“Also, you might want to either cover up or shut the curtains,” Lois reminded him.

A moment later the curtains were drawn and Clark was back to walking to the phone with his sleep shorts on.

“Hey, we have a message,” he told her.

“That phone call we didn’t take earlier,” she called from the bathroom. When she returned a few minutes later, she could hear him on the telephone.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, Mom, I just got…” He sighed, shooting his wife a weak smile.

“I called them last night and told them you were fine,” Lois interjected.

“Mom!” Clark blushed and turned away from Lois, lowering his voice. “No, we haven’t been working on making you a grandmother.”

Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!

Lois wrapped her arms around Clark’s waist. “Get off the phone and come back to bed, stud,” she moaned.

“Lois!” Clark hissed, turning bright red. “My mom!”

He’s a knucklehead if he doesn’t realize you know that! Why does he think you said it?

Lois grinned. “You’ll be the first to know after Clark, Martha, I promise,” she called over his shoulder and into the phone. She spanked Clark’s butt and sat back down on the bed.

“Mom, I’d rather not … Hi, Dad. Yes, we’re… Well, most of… Dad, do I really need to discuss this with you two? Right now?” Clark stammered. Lois watched as his ears became redder.

“Don’t forget to remind your mother about the blue suit?”

“Right. My blue suit burned up on re-entry, could you ask…? Hi, Mom. Yeah, nothing left. I need another… Ah, yeah. Completely gone.” He gulped as his face became more tinged in pink. “That’s why I didn’t come back to Metropolis…” he explained. “You have? Thanks, Mom. You’re a lifesaver… ha-ha, very funny. Been hanging out with Perry and his corny Superman jokes, have you?”

He glanced over at Lois and rolled his eyes. But the action was more sarcastic than annoyed. Clark truly loved his parents.

“We’ll see you in a couple of days…” Clark looked at Lois again.

“Wednesday,” she informed him.

“Our new flight is on Wednesday… Right, I know… No, I don’t know what to do about that. We’ll figure something out… I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Does he mean like if you suddenly have a round belly full of baby by tomorrow?

Lois put a hand over her stomach and took a deep breath. Clark said he had aged naturally. If she got pregnant there is no reason to think that she would have a pregnant belly by the next day.

Paranoid much, there, Lois?

‘Gee, I wonder why?’ Lois retorted to her wayward thoughts.

Soorrrr-rry!

“I love you guys and I didn’t mean to worry you,” Clark said into the phone. “See you Wednesday.” Then he hung up. “‘Come back to bed, stud’? Really, Lois, did you have to?”

Of course!

Lois bit her bottom lip and shot him a come-hither expression.

“Pasta! I need to order dinner,” he reminded himself, returning to the phone.

Didn’t Clark say that pasta turns him on?

She grinned at his obvious discomfort, licking her lips when he turned back to glance at her for a second. “Do you really need pasta, Clark?”

“No, Lois, I don’t. But you sure get cranky and paranoid when you haven’t eaten,” he teased.

He better be joking!

Lois picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

***

Tuesday — Mid-day

Lois leaned forward and kissed Clark, whispering, “I thought she’d never leave. Did you check to see if they have video surveillance?”

Clark nodded. He had angled himself just right so neither his face nor his reflection would be seen on the camera.

“Slowly now,” she warned him. “I’ll keep lookout.”

He laughed. “You’d think we were doing something scandalous or clandestine or illegal here,” he said, taking off those hideous Jackie O. sunglasses and putting on a pair like the ones he had left in Metropolis.

“No! Absolutely not.” Lois shook her head. “I married you, not those glasses. Try these.” She handed him a pair with silver rims, a much more modern look.

Clark removed the black frames and slipped on the new metal-framed ones. “How do I look?” he asked, glancing into the mirror.

Superman in glasses gazed back. Just as Clark was about to tear the ineffectual disguise from his face his wife answered, “Hot.”

Clark took another glance in the mirror. “Really?” Hot wasn’t a term he had ever associated with him or his glasses.

Lois snaked her arms over his shoulders from behind and kissed his cheek. “Uh-huh.”

He lowered his voice. “You don’t think I look too much like Kal?”

She exhaled. “Have I ever mentioned how sexy I think Kal is? Those deep brown eyes can turn a woman to mush.”

No. No, she hadn’t mentioned that.

Then Lois looked at him in the mirror. “But you’re right. These disappear on your face, making them pointless. How about these?” she said, handing him another pair with a slight tortoise shell pattern.

Lois shook her head and handed him another pair with blue frames. “Ugh. No!” She gave him another and another and another. Finally, she stopped at a simple pair of metal frames with a brown tortoiseshell top.

Clark wasn’t sure he liked this look. He did like it better than the black plastic 1960’s Buddy Holly type frames and these certainly didn’t make him look like Superman. “They make me look a bit nerdy,” he told her, unconvinced.

Lois reached over his shoulders and kissed his lips. “So.”

“So?” Clark echoed in surprise.

“You’re talking to a member of the Math Club and the former Chess Club President of Smallville High,” she breathed into his ear. “I’m not turned off by ‘nerdy,’ Clark.”

He turned a perplexed expression her direction, but her words seemed genuine. Huh? Really?

“So if I let out my inner geek…?” he teased.

“Trying to scare me off, Kent? It won’t work.” She raised a brow and bit her bottom lip in the way that she did, which he could always feel deep in his gut… low down in his gut.

“No?”

Lois winked at him. “You show me your inner geek and I’ll show you mine,” she challenged.

Clark flashed back to Lois standing outside the church in her wedding gown. It did remind him of a sleeveless version of that white dress Princess Leia had worn at the end of Star Wars, during the medal ceremony. He had had many an eleven-year old fantasy about Princess Leia, the year Star Wars had been released. At first, he pretended he had been the one to rescue her from the Death Star. By twelve-years old, Jedi Clark not only rescued the Princess, he also received a kiss. And at thirteen… well… Clark smiled. By then he and Princess Leia had become old friends.

He may have dated his share of blondes, but there was always something more exciting about a spunky brunette. Suddenly an image of Lois in a gold Revenge of the Jedi bikini shot through his mind, then through his body. He swallowed, glancing up at the optician’s assistant. “We’ll take these.”

“Good choice, sir,” the woman replied as if she probably said the same phrase to all her customers.

***

The couple had lunch at the deli next door as the store made negative one lenses to fit his new frames.

Lois leaned across the table and whispered, “I have a confession.”

If she admitted to owning a Princess Leia bikini back in Smallville…

“The first time I realized I might be falling for you…” She paused to take a bite of her pastrami sandwich.

Okay, a different kind of confession than the fantasy he was imagining, but just as nice.

“Was that first night. You know, when I stole a peek at you without your glasses.”

Clark took a sip of his ice tea and lowered his voice, trying to understand. “So, you realized you loved Kal first?”

“There was no Kal at that point, only Clark,” she corrected. “And Clark is one sexy man without his glasses.”

Clark pressed his lips together. “There has always been Kal — technically, I was him before I was Clark.”

“But the night I stole your glasses, Clark, I hadn’t known that… actually, neither did you. That was before the globe started glowing.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait a minute. That was the night of our non-date date. A whole week before we kissed, you realized you were falling for me?”

Lois shrugged. “Why do you think I got so mad at you? And why do you think I refused to give up on you when your green-eyed monster raged out of control? I knew that man who charmed my socks off was hiding deep inside you, waiting to reemerge.”

Clark took another sip of his drink. “He’s gone, you know,” he admitted hesitantly. “My jealousy.”

“Gone?” she gasped in faux dismay. “Your inner idiot?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” He pinched his lips together to try and hide the sheepish smile that snuck onto his lips anyway. “But that nagging voice inside my head that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough for you. That you were going to leave me. And that I should jump your bones before you did dump me because I wasn’t going to find another woman like you and end up dying a virgin. That voice is gone.”

“Wow! My inner voice isn’t nasty like that. She just brings deep inner feelings I’d rather not acknowledge to the surface.” Lois squeezed his hand. “So, when did you lose your monster?”

Clark didn’t look like he wanted to answer, but then lowered his voice, “Friday, while we made love. It was just gone.” He bit into his sandwich. “It’s like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.”

She appeared skeptical by his analogy. “A weight… off your shoulders?”

A really heavy weight. “I feel like I can accomplish anything now,” he replied.

Lois grinned. “And all because you made love with me?” She laughed in amusement. “Well, if I had known that was the cure for your denseness, I’d have made love to you that first night.”

Clark choked on his sandwich and then tried to cover it up by giving Lois what he hoped was a scandalized look. What would he have done if she had attacked him that night? “I’m glad we waited.” His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder. “I’ve really enjoyed this weekend.”

She bit her bottom lip and bounced her eyebrows. “And we have the rest of our lives to make up for that one missing day.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Speaking of which, we should probably earn our keep and give Perry a call about Nightfall. You know, an interview with Superman.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I hear nobody has seen that guy since he left EPRAD Control to battle Nightfall.” He grinned. “Thank God!” Naked flying Superman photos would make his life hell.

Lois kissed his cheek over to his ear. “Better make it after we return to Metropolis. We don’t want anyone to suspect the man went on the honeymoon with us or anything. Or are you going to go pick up your new suit after we get the new glasses? Martha did say that she had made you another suit, right?”

“A few, in fact,” he told her, sitting back. “But if we’re going to work on Thursday, there’s another kind of suit I need to buy. And I promised my new wife a date.”

“A date? A real date? You weren’t kidding?”

Clark shook his head.

There was an effervescent quality to her smile. “Loving this new you. Loving him very much.”

***

Wednesday Mid-Day

Lois took hold of Clark’s hand as they strolled into the line for the ticket counter at the Buffalo airport. She was sad that their honeymoon was coming to an end. But now they got to start joining their lives together and that would never end.

How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?

Lois rolled her eyes at her inner thoughts. Why hadn’t her crazy thoughts gone away with Clark’s green-eyed monster? It wasn’t fair to be tormented so.

The line finally meandered them around to the counter. Clark set their suitcases on the scale as Lois handed their tickets to the agent.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent.” Clark smiled as he announced who they were as if he would never tire of telling people they were married.

Super sweetie!

“Clark Kent and Lois Lane,” she corrected. “The tickets are under those names.”

“Lois Lane?” he repeated back to her.

They hadn’t discussed whether or not she would take his name. “I didn’t marry you to go into hiding, Clark. I like my name and I’m proud of who I am and what I’ve…”

Clark’s smile grew instead of diminish. “I love Lois Lane, too. She’s the woman I fell in love with. What makes you think I’d want you to change anything about yourself? Even your name?”

Lois nudged him. “You’re picking up my bad habits, Clark. Interrupting, rambling…”

“Lois Lane?” the ticketing agent inquired. “The Lois Lane?”

Both of them turned and faced the agent, their silly smiles wiped off their faces. Back to reality.

The agent’s eyes were wide as she lowered her voice, “Can you contact Superman?”

This didn’t sound like the usual fan or groupie request. Not the usual ‘Superman’s girlfriend’ inquiry either. “Why?” Lois asked cautiously.

The agent swallowed. “I’m not supposed to say anything to panic the passengers, but all the flights have been grounded for the next hour.”

Clark’s hand tightened around Lois’s waist. “Go on.”

“You didn’t hear?” the agent asked, glancing between the two of them in disbelief. “About Nightfall?”

“Nightfall?” Lois gulped, her throat dry and clogged by her heart.

No! Superman has already taken care of that problem. That’s history! No!!!

“What message do you need us to get to Superman?” Clark spoke the words Lois could not.

“It’s heading for the moon now. The military just sent the Asgard rocket with a nuclear bomb to destroy it. That’s why all the flights are grounded. Just in case…” The agent’s stiff fingers were turning white from holding them above the keyboard.

“I’m sure he knows, but…” The words stumbled out of Lois’s mouth as her knees turned to jelly.

Nightfall. Moon. Nuclear bomb.

Only Clark’s strong arm kept her standing.

Lois cleared her throat, trying to get confidence to emerge. “I could try…”

“No, Lois. I’ll contact Superman. You fly to Metropolis and I’ll meet you there. I’ll catch a later flight or something.” Clark kissed her cheek and whispered only loud enough for her to hear, “I’ll always come back to you, Lois. I love you.”

Lois nodded dumbly, unable to speak, tears blurring her vision.

Clark smiled at her, brushing a lock of hair off her face. “I’m sure he’s already on it, Lois. Don’t worry.” Then he turned his reassuring smile to the ticketing agent. “But I’ll see if I can contact him.”

Lois forced the muscles in her legs to work. “Good luck.” She smiled at him, knowing it must have appeared as fake as it felt, as if her face was frozen like hard plastic.

He started backing up with a wink. “Call Perry. Tell him to hold Page One for me.” Then Clark jogged out the automatic doors and was gone.

The agent sighed with relief, then started stamping Lois’s ticket. “Gate 3C,” she finally told Lois. The agent’s voice was back up to its normal level as she handed Lois the boarding pass. “As I mentioned before, all flights are still running behind schedule. The two o’clock flight to Metropolis has been delayed an hour.”

Lois exchanged a knowing look with the agent and wandered towards security.

“Miss. Miss!” the man behind her in line called.

She turned and faced him. “I am Mrs. Clark Kent,” she corrected. “Mrs.”

“Well, Mrs. Kent, is this your bag?” he asked, holding up her carry-on she had left at the counter.

“Sorry. Yes. Thank you,” Lois said, taking her bag and trying to look something other than numb.

Somehow she made it through security and over to her gate.

Nightfall was still coming. It was going to hit the moon. Her idea about pushing it off course had failed. Now a nuclear missile was headed to explode the asteroid. That was exactly what Clark wanted to avoid in the first place. She knew Clark wouldn’t let the missile hit its target. Not this close to the moon. Not this close to Earth. It was all her fault. She had distracted Clark from his Superman duties. Now he had to deal with both an asteroid and a nuclear bomb. If one of them didn’t kill him, the other one surely would.

She made it over to a bank of payphones, dropped in her quarters, and pushed the buttons. “Lois Lane for Perry White.”

“Lois!” her boss exclaimed into the phone. “Where’s Clark? I’ve been trying to reach you…”

“He asked me to call you to hold Page One for a new Superman story,” Lois repeated Clark’s message into the phone, unable to feel anything other than stunned.

It was her fault. All her fault.

Bet you’re glad you made love with him without precautions now.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” she demanded of her inner voice.

“Lois?” Perry asked softly. “Are you all right?”

Her hands began to shake as she realized she had spoken out loud. “No.”

“Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” Perry’s voice coaxed into her ear.

“My husband has gone to find Superman to see if he can stop both a nuclear missile and an asteroid the size of Metropolis from hitting the moon and it’s all my fault,” she gasped as the tears she had been holding at bay finally crashed around her in sobs.

“Great shades of Elvis!” Then her boss asked, “Your fault?”

Your fault for suggesting he push it out of the way. Your fault for not letting him get enough sleep the night before. Your fault from distracting him from the news for the last twenty-four hours, so he couldn’t have taken care of this problem sooner. Your fault for making love to him one last time before checking out of the hotel, so he didn’t have the energy to tackle this problem with a clear mind. If he fails, if he dies, it will all be your fault.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Lois was finally able to say into the phone.

“So Superman is going after Nightfall again and the Asgard rocket? Is that your story?” Perry said, focusing on the facts.

“Uh-huh. Superman really hates nuclear weapons and I cannot see him allowing it to continue on a collision course with Nightfall, especially this close to Earth,” Lois explained, her shaking hands brushing her hair out of her face. “All flights have been grounded in the meantime. I’m stuck at the airport with nothing to do but wait and think.”

It’s your fault. All your fault. Clark is going to die because of you.

“Lois, sweetie, I need to you contact airport personnel and get me a story on the grounding of flights. Can you do that for me and then call it in to Doris?” the Chief asked her.

Story. Focus on the story, not on Clark. “Yes, I think so,” she told him.

“By the time you’ve done that, I’ll have an update on the Asgard rocket for you,” he said.

“Thank you, Perry,” was all she could say before hanging up.

Focus on the story. Not on Clark. Story. Airport. Story. Flights — canceled or delayed. Story.

Lois took a deep breath and marched off.

***

Clark stopped by his folks’ apartment just long enough to drop off his clothes and new glasses, and grab his replacement Superman suit. His folks were downstairs in the café, finishing up the lunch rush, and he didn’t have time for even a hug. Less than five minutes after he had left the Buffalo airport, he was flying through the stratosphere.

Superman could see the missile ahead of him and the Nightfall asteroid advancing towards the moon. It was much closer than it was when he pushed it off-course three days earlier, but it was still headed their way, still on the far side of the moon. And the damage to the moon would be catastrophic if Nightfall hit it. It would affect ocean currents and tides on Earth at the very least. Depending on where it hit, either the asteroid or the moon could break apart and the fragments could head towards Earth. Satellites could be struck and possibly the Space Station Prometheus with all those scientists and colonists. It could knock the moon off its axis or out of its orbit around the Earth. Not to mention the moon dust ejected onto his planet.

Superman sped up. With a carefully deliberate swipe of his arm, he knocked the Asgard rocket off course. Then, with concentrated focus, he aimed himself at his top speed directly for the weakest spot on the asteroid, which the EPRAD scientists had told him about on Sunday. The impact careened Superman through the air back towards Earth.

He slowed himself down to make sure that Nightfall had indeed broken up into small pieces. Using his super-breath, he blew the fragments away, making sure they would avoid Earth entirely. He swooped around to shepherd the few remaining fragments he had missed. One large shard tumbled out of reach.

Clark narrowed his eyes, focusing closely on it. Alarm crossed his face as some more asteroid pieces flew unexpectedly past his head. He zapped these smaller fragments with his heat vision, not wanting to use too much of his air reserves. But that one chunk, out of reach, mocked him as it spun slowly, inevitably, onto a collision course with the Asgard rocket. He focused again on that last shard of asteroid, hoping to destroy it before it crashed into the nuclear missile.

Whether the asteroid impact detonated the rocket or whether the engineers had planned for Asgard to fire at this point in its trajectory, or even if it had to do with his heat vision, Clark never knew. In a fury of nuclear fire, the rocket exploded. A temporary second sun appeared in the sky, blinding him.

The blast shot the remains of that asteroid chunk at Superman and the force of the explosion hurled him back towards Earth.

***

Wednesday — Late afternoon

Lois sat on the plane and wrung her hands together, unable to relax. The delay hadn’t been too terribly long for everyone else. An hour, possibly two. For her, it seemed to stretch into an eternity. Then someone from the airline had announced that the Asgard rocket had hit Nightfall as planned and had broken it up before the asteroid had been able to strike the moon. No reference to Superman or his involvement had been mentioned.

She had tried to contact the Daily Planet, Doris or Perry, but all the circuits were busy. Lois kept hoping that Clark would return to the Buffalo airport and join her on the last leg of the journey home, but he never showed. She understood that once again, he must be exhausted. But to have no mention of him at all in the announcement had made her worry. Had no one realized that he had gone to help? Had he been too late and been blown to bits when the bomb had impacted with the asteroid? Where was Clark?

Trying to concentrate on happy memories from their honeymoon to tide her over until she made it back to her apartment, where Clark must surely be waiting for her, Lois closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

They had spent all the previous afternoon walking along the trails around and in front of the Falls. Everything had been wonderful: the weather, Clark holding her hand, the walk, the view, and the ease of their conversation. Although happy to be out again in the sunshine, Clark had kept teasing her that they needed to return to the cave and walk along the stairs to the mists. Lois hadn’t wanted to chance running into that security guard again.

As she thought again about the night in the cave, she remembered catching that first sight of him in that yellow rain slicker that hardly covered his bare hips. Of his embarrassment until she had kissed him. No matter how hard he tugged on the hem of the slicker, it never had completely covered him. She was surprised he hadn’t tied the jacket around his hips, but she guessed that it would have been quite obvious with his bare chest and bare legs. He had never been sexier than that night in the cave.

The mortification on Clark’s face when Lois had suggested he wear her underwear quickly disappeared when he had pulled her into his arms. Just thinking about the wildness of that night caused her to flush. Her husband had made her feel like that. She knew that being with a man could be pleasurable; there was too much documented proof and too many first person accounts to discount it as urban myth, but until Clark she had never known true intimacy or pure ecstasy.

Even when they had made love in the honeymoon suite using precautions, Lois had felt more bliss than she had ever felt with any other man. She knew that she could make love to Clark quite easily for the rest of her life and never be disappointed. He was tender and giving and patient and curious and grateful and pleasing and loving, and all those components made Clark an amazing lover.

But that night in the cave, when they had… gone without precautions… there was something else. Something more than the urgency and the fear of being discovered out in public. Some other quality. Something indescribable.

Lois had been trying over the last few days to find the words to explain how Clark had made her feel, and there just weren’t any that fit perfectly. It had been like their bodies had been fused together, yet still separate, still pliable, still themselves. Only more so.

It was like endorphins had rushed through her body, but there had been no pain, no numbness, only … “endorphins” was the wrong word. Like their pheromones had merged into one and everything about him had made Clark extra desirable. He had shot her body full of contentment and satisfaction. Lois clenched her fists in frustration. Only more so.

Just being with him had made Clark sexier, extra attractive, additionally loving, especially caring, and particularly pleasing. Only more so.

And that sensation that had danced through her entire body had been so strong, so powerful, so addicting… it took only a brief thought of that moment to make her ready to make love to him again. Lois crossed her legs and exhaled slowly.

That was why when they had woken up from that long afternoon nap, the day after he had returned from space, her body had craved his. It had only taken him running his hand over her body to make Lois want him again. It was if her body had become aligned with his. They were magnets attracted to just each other. Only more so.

After their walk the previous afternoon, they had returned to their room and made love again before getting ready to go out on their “date.” They had showered together and couldn’t help themselves. Clark had claimed that there was something extra special about the combination of his wife and water. That would explain their amorous night of pasta and bathing two nights earlier as well.

Clark had fed her. Normally, she wasn’t one who liked a man to do anything that made her feel like a helpless infant. But Clark feeding her and her feeding him… Lois wanted to groan at the thought of it. Maybe it had been the way that she had sat in his lap as he fed her. Or the way he had touched her as they ate. Or perhaps it was the memory of Clark in the bath afterwards. Bubbles and scented bath oils and Clark. She could live a lifetime on the memories from the past five days.

Lois sat up and her eyes opened. Four days. Friday and today had mostly been traveling. Sunday, Clark had been in space all day. So technically there really had only been Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday. Three days! Oh, definitely too short of a honeymoon.

Knowing that she had been making Clark happy was almost as exciting to Lois as him giving her blissful enjoyment. She had found herself doing little things that she knew would bring out that charming smile of his. Whether it had been actually placing perfume behind her knee and ear as she said she would before their date the night before. Or remembering how he liked his coffee. Or wording things just so that he would find something funny or delightful or reminiscent of some tactile memory. Clark liked anything that had to do with his senses. Super vision, super hearing, super smell… she wondered if he had super taste and super touch…

Oh, he definitely has super touch, Lois, moaned her inner voice.

“Excuse me, Miss? Are you all right? You seem quite flushed,” said the flight attendant, causing Lois’s eyes to flash open.

“Fine,” she croaked out, wishing she didn’t have to wait to see her husband again.

“Seat upright then. We’re coming into Metropolis,” the flight attendant informed her.

Lois couldn’t believe that she had spent the past hour and half fantasizing about Clark and their honeymoon. Thankfully, there hadn’t been anyone sitting in the seat next to hers.

***

Wednesday Evening

Lois grabbed her suitcase and Clark’s suit bag off the baggage carousel. She was back to feeling numb. Clark hadn’t met her plane at the airport. She lugged the suitcases to the bus stop to take the shuttle back into the heart of the city.

Approximately an hour and a half later, given all the traffic interruptions due to the celebrations of the destruction of Nightfall, she dragged her suitcase and Clark’s suit bag up the front steps of her building. Leaning against her door was Leo Nunk.

Great. Just what you need. A headache.

“Hi-ya, Lane. How was your extended weekend in Niagara Falls?” he asked, reaching forward with his tape recorder.

Really? After your engagement announcement and Nightfall, Leo Nunk still is interested in your sex life?

“I’m not in the mood, Leo,” she groaned, plopping down her bags to pull out her keys.

“Is that what you told your boyfriend? Is that why you’re coming home alone?”

Lois rolled her eyes, unlocked her front entry door, shoved her suitcases inside, pushed past Nunk, and slammed the door in his face as he tried to follow. Then she picked up the suitcases again and headed towards her basement apartment, hoping against hope her husband was there with a hot home-cooked meal, a bottle of wine, a warm hug, and a great excuse.

Instead the apartment was dark when she opened the door. She sighed.

And a mess.

Not a she-had-been-robbed-again mess, but a Lucy-hadn’t-cleaned-the-whole-time-nor-moved-her-stuff-to-the-Kent’s mess.

Lois shut her front door, tripped over a few pieces of clothing sprawled over her floor and sat down at her desk to cry. She buried her head in her arms but she was too exhausted for the tears to start.

Where was Clark?

She picked up the phone, then set it back down. Walking into the kitchen, she washed her hands and returned to the telephone with a wet dishrag to wipe down her telephone. Then she tossed the rag onto her dining room table, which she could tell probably hadn’t been cleaned properly since Clark had made them breakfast the previous Friday.

Lois picked up the receiver again and dialed. She wondered where the Kents were. Then she realized it was almost eight o’clock on a Wednesday night. Her in-laws were most likely in the middle of dinner rush at the café.

She dug the phonebook out of her bottom drawer and flipped to the dog-eared page.

“MJ’s Café. How can I help you?” Maisie’s voice sang into the Lois’s ear.

“Hi, Maisie. It’s Lois…” she began.

“Lois! Jonathan, the kids are back from their honeymoon,” gushed Maisie as Lois’s stomach sank down into her toes. If Maisie thought Clark was with her, it meant he couldn’t be helping out with the café.

“Lois!” Jonathan said cheerfully into the phone. “So, are you back in Metropolis? I heard something on the radio about planes being grounded during the Asgard rocket mission.”

She closed her eyes. How could she tell Jonathan that Clark was missing? She took a deep breath. “I’m home, but Clark ran off before our flight to find Superman and tell him about the new Nightfall threat.”

“Lois?” she heard Jonathan’s hesitancy. “Where’s Clark?”

Lois swallowed. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been here. I hoped you might have seen him.”

“Hold on, honey. Let me check with Martha,” Jonathan replied before silence filled the phone line. They both knew that if Martha had heard from her son, she certainly would have told Jonathan.

A minute later Martha picked up. Lois could hear the familiar noise of the café’s busy kitchen. “Lois?” Martha’s voice felt like a ray of sunshine on Lois’s otherwise dreary day. She hated to be this woman’s thundercloud.

“Please tell me you saw Clark about half-past noon today,” Lois pleaded, wanting some kind of good news. “Or better yet, anytime since.”

“No. Sorry, Lois. I haven’t seen him since he stopped by on Sunday,” Martha answered. “We were in the middle of the lunch rush at half-past noon today.”

“Right. Of course,” Lois replied flatly. “I thought he might’ve stopped by for his blue suit before…” Her voice went out on her.

“I can send Jonathan upstairs and check, if you like?” Martha suggested. Lois heard her cover the mouthpiece and speak with her husband. “Go up and check if he stopped earlier.” She uncovered the receiver again. “Maybe he’s not back yet, since… since he had to take a later flight from Buffalo? Did you check your messages?”

“The thieves stole my answering machine,” Lois informed her, regarding the break-in that had happened while Lois had been off interviewing Superman the day after he had made his debut.

“My goodness, Lois. They got everything you own, didn’t they?”

Lois sighed. “Pretty much.” Her TV, VCR, computer, answering machine, purse, keys, and Clark’s globe. At least they had recovered that. She still was waiting on a check from the insurance company to replace her stuff.

“Is there any reason to worry, dear?” Martha asked.

“He went up about the same time as the Asgard rocket,” Lois told her. She refused to sugar-coat the news. She hoped they would do the same for her.

Martha gulped. “Jonathan and I didn’t hear anything…”

“I am hoping it was because EPRAD didn’t know he was going. But if he got caught between the asteroid and the missile…” A sob wrenched through Lois’s chest.

“He’s pretty tough, Lois,” Martha assured her, but Lois heard a wary crack in her voice. “Jonathan?”

Clark’s father must have returned from the apartment upstairs. “He took a suit and left his clothes, Lois.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, despite Jonathan not telling her anything she hadn’t already suspected to be true. “You’ll have him call me if he stops by there first?” she asked.

“Sure thing, Lois. And you?”

Lois reassured him she would have Clark call them if… should he show up at the apartment first. But she knew he wouldn’t. It had been Clark’s idea to ban Superman from visiting her place. They didn’t need any more tabloid photos of Superman outside her front door, especially since her engagement to Clark had been announced. Lois said goodbye and hung up, burying her face in her arms once more. This time she didn’t have any trouble finding her tears.

Do you think Clark went down to the Daily Planet to write up his story? asked Lois’s inner thoughts.

Lois’s head snapped up off her desk.

He did say to tell Perry to hold Page One for him.

Her heart began to beat again as she dialed the Daily Planet’s number she had memorized over the last few days. “Lois Lane for Perry White.”

“Lois?” Perry’s gruff voice was a salve for her wounded soul. He would have her answers. “Where’s your story about the grounded planes?” he demanded.

Or not.

“Is Clark there, Chief?” she asked softly, ignoring his question.

“No, Clark isn’t here,” he retorted. “Do you have his Page One story?”

“He left Buffalo, grabbed his new blue suit, and no one has seen him since,” she said, the tears pouring down her face again. “He’s missing.”

Perry’s tone changed at her tears. “Calm down, honey. This is Clark we’re talking about here. He’ll be okay.”

“What have you heard about the Asgard? All I’ve heard was that it destroyed Nightfall,” she tried to make her words coherent through her sobs.

“Yeah, that’s the line of bull we’ve been fed as well. Sounds like a story worth investigating,” he told her.

“Per-ry! My husband’s missing.”

“Well, you could stay home and cry into your cappuccino. Or you could get off your derrière and go and look for what happened to him,” Perry suggested. “I’d start at EPRAD Control and find out what the real story was and not that official malarkey they handed out. You and I both know that wasn’t the truth.”

Lois took a deep breath. “What if Clark comes home and I’m not here?”

“Leave him a note. He’ll find you.”

A hint of a smile tried to make an appearance on her lips, but failed. Clark had always been pretty good at tracking her down. “Thanks, Chief.”

“Now, do you have that story I assigned you about the planes?” he asked.

“Hold on.” Lois dumped the contents of her carry-on bag onto her desk. The first notebook she opened had her vows to Clark that he had written for her. She pushed it off the side. The next notebook had the vows she wrote for Clark. She pushed that book to the side as well. She couldn’t think about that now or she would start crying again. The third notebook had her story about the grounding of flights due to the Asgard mission out of fear of an electromagnetic pulse. “Here it is. Can you transfer me to Doris?”

“Doris left hours ago, Lois. Give it to me.” Perry sighed, resigned.

“I’m sorry, Chief. The circuits were down and I couldn’t phone it in from Buffalo.”

“No excuses, Lane, just the story,” he told her.

As Lois read her story to him, her eyes gravitated to a large brown envelope she had dumped out of her bag. She slipped her fingers under the flap and pulled out an eight by twelve photo of her and Clark moments after their wedding. He looked so handsome. So happy.

He’ll always come back to you, Lois.

Her voice caught in her throat.

“Lois? Is that all?” Perry asked.

She sniffled. “I love him so much.”

“I know that, honey. I can hold the front page until ten, but not any later. Go out and find your super man.”

She tried to smile through her tears but didn’t. “Yes, sir.” And then hung up the phone.

Keys in the lock caused Lois to spin around. “Clark!” She rushed to the door and pulled it open.

There stood a very giggly Lucy and a Jimmy with his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Jimmy dropped his embrace at the sight of Lois and Lucy wrapped her arms around her big sister.

“Lois! How was Niagara? The wedding?” She bounced her eyebrows. “The honeymoon?”

“Wedding?” stammered Jimmy. “You and CK got married?” His jaw hung open and he remained in the doorway. “The Chief said you two went away for the weekend and then couldn’t return because of Nightfall.”

Lois blanched at the asteroid’s name. But she knew she was going to have to fake her way through this conversation because neither of them knew Clark was Superman. Lois forced a smile to her face. “Wonderful.”

“Details! Details!” said Lucy, dumping her purse on the coffee table and plopping down on the couch.

“Lu-cy!” gasped Jimmy, glancing around. “Where’s CK?”

Well, isn’t that the question to beat all questions?

What was Lois going to tell them?

The best lie is thinly veiled truth.

“We got separated in Buffalo. He went to contact Superman about the return of … “ She swallowed. “… Nightfall and missed our flight back to Metropolis. He’s probably been trying to get another flight home, or contact me, but either the lines are still down or because I don’t have an answering machine anymore…” Lois clamped her mouth shut to stop herself from rambling further.

Jimmy cleared his throat, glancing around again. “Where’s Lucy supposed to sleep?”

Not here! That’s for sure.

“She was supposed to move her stuff over to the Kents’ place two days ago,” Lois replied with a sharp look at her sister, who sneered her response and then stuck out her tongue. Jimmy — on the other hand — seemed relieved by this development.

Dirty mind much there, Jimbo?

Lois put her hands on her hips and refocused her sharp gaze to her husband’s friend. “Where did you think she was going to sleep, Jimmy?”

“Yeah, Jimmy. Where?” Lucy retorted, her gaze mirroring her sister’s.

The photographer rubbed a hand down his face, grumbling, “Man, am I glad CK isn’t here.” He raised his voice. “So CK thinks Superman is still around? He hasn’t been seen since he left EPRAD four days ago.”

Lois broke her eye contact with Jimmy. “I’m sure he was just resting. Pushing an asteroid that big must have been exhausting, even for someone as strong and invulnerable as Superman.”

Or he was in Niagara boinking his new wife? One of the two.

“Clark knows Superman?” Lucy stammered. “Do you think he can introduce me? Maybe we could double date?”

“Hey!” Jimmy snapped.

Poor Jimmy. Lois’s inner voice sighed. You did warn him about Lucy.

“Superman doesn’t date, Lucy,” Lois said quietly.

Not anymore, he doesn’t.

“He doesn’t? Poor dude,” Jimmy said gleefully.

Lois grabbed her carry-on bag and started throwing her stuff back inside. “Jimmy, can you take Lucy to MJ’s?”

“Sure.” Actually, he seemed quite delighted with the assignment.

Poor Jimmy. He’s got it bad.

“Lucy, give me my car keys,” Lois said as she finished gathering her stuff and turned to her sister. “Clean up before you go. You’ve been here a week and it’s turned into a sty.” She pulled the wedding photo off the desk and handed it to Jimmy. “Can you give this to Martha?”

“Wow! Lois, you look…” Jimmy stumbled over his words to find the right one. “Amazing!”

You’ll accept amazing.

Lucy scrambled over to them. “Wow! Lois! You look hot! That’s some dress.”

Jimmy nodded, not wanting to voice his approval too strongly.

The Lucy whistled. “And that man of yours. He’s… He’s… “

Super?

“Gorgeous!”

There’s an understatement.

Lois cleared her throat and dragged her eyes away from her husband’s photo, pointing over her shoulder. “I’m going to EPRAD. See if I can get them to tell me the truth about Nightfall.”

“First night back from your honeymoon and already on the job,” said Jimmy with a shake of his head.

Well, this isn’t how you planned to spend the evening either.

Lois returned to her desk and wrote a vague note to Clark. Went to EPRAD, looking for Superman and the real Nightfall story. Love you, LL

She stared down at the note and a cold chill crept down her spine.

You never told Clark you loved him when he left. He told you he loved you, but you never told him.

A new set of tears threatened to descend. She would have plenty of times to tell Clark she loved him, Lois told her inner voice. But she didn’t convince either one of them.

***

Lois arrived at EPRAD Control, having gotten directions from Jimmy, and then got the run-around with security. Finally, she convinced the guard to contact Professor Daitch on her behalf as she only had one question for him. The guard explained the situation to the scientist who agreed to listen to Lois’s one question. Then the guard passed the phone to Lois.

“Good evening, Professor Daitch. Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Thank you for your time,” she told him. She didn’t scream at the man; that fiery part of her died when Clark disappeared. The Professor would know better than anyone what really happened in space. She needed his help in finding Clark.

“What’s your question, Ms. Lane?” The Professor was exasperated, obviously tired from his long day.

She was going out on a limb with her guess. If she was wrong, she wouldn’t learn anything. But she knew Clark. Knew he wouldn’t let that bomb detonate so close to Earth, if he could help it. “Why did EPRAD tell everyone that the Asgard rocket destroyed the Nightfall asteroid when it didn’t?”

“Are you suggesting that Nightfall hasn’t been destroyed and the government is lying to the American people?” he asked in disbelief. “Because I guarantee you, Ms. Lane, Nightfall is no more.”

“No, I’m asking why EPRAD said it was the Asgard that destroyed Nightfall when it wasn’t?” Lois replied, vague enough that if she were right the Professor would understand but the guard might not. The guard looked at her as if she were crazy.

“Why are you contacting me and not General Zeitlin, who was in charge of the Asgard rocket?” Daitch asked tentatively.

“Truthfully, I trust scientists more than generals. And secondly, my…” Lois bit her tongue from saying ‘husband’. “My friend who spoke with you on Saturday night seemed to find you an honest fellow. I trust his judgment.”

“Your friend in blue?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“And when did you last speak with Superman, Ms. Lane?” the scientist asked.

Lois glanced at the guard, glad he could only hear her half of the conversation. “This morning.”

Well, technically that’s true. He wasn’t in his blue suit though. Is Clark still Superman when he’s out of the suit? Or does the suit make the super man into Superman?

“Pass the phone back to the guard, Ms. Lane,” said Professor Daitch. She handed the phone to the guard with a heavy heart. She failed. Professor Daitch hadn’t told her anything. And she was no closer to finding out what had happened to Clark.

Lois watched as the guard spoke to the Professor for a moment and then hung up the phone. Her heart constricted at the thought of failing Clark one more time. Tears started to fill her eyes and she turned away from the security gate to return to her car.

“Ms. Lane?” called the guard.

Quickly, Lois wiped her eyes. “Yes?”

“Professor Daitch would like to meet with you in his office. Turn right at this gate…” The guard gave her directions as he handed her both a visitor’s pass and parking pass. Lois could only nod, unable to speak.

You did it!

Lois clipped the visitor’s pass to her lapel of her jacket and climbed back into her Cherokee, tossing the parking pass onto the dash. She was going to learn about Clark’s final moments. Finally learn the truth about what happened to her husband. She took a deep breath and willed the tears from her eyes as she drove through the gate.

***

Wednesday — Night — Late

Lois pulled her car to the side of the road and jumped out. There, on the corner, was a telephone booth. She dropped in her quarter and dialed.

“Daily Planet.”

“Lois Lane for Perry White,” she stammered.

“Hold please.”

Lois bit her bottom lip as she waited for the call to be connected.

“Lois, it’s ten thirty. I can’t…” Perry said with a sigh.

“I just left EPRAD Control. I was right. It was Superman who destroyed Nightfall…” she said breathlessly.

“Slow down, honey. You’ve got proof?” her editor asked warily.

“I saw the unreleased footage from EPRAD’s own computers. The Asgard rocket veered off-course a full minute before Nightfall exploded.” She pressed her eyes shut as the tears she had been holding in for the past hour started to fall. “One of the asteroid pieces must have struck the rocket, because the Asgard actually detonated about thirty seconds after the asteroid exploded.”

“Oh, Lois. Clark’s tough…”

“Nuclear bomb tough, Chief?” she sobbed. “Bullets and C4 bombs are one thing. We’re talking nuclear warhead.” Her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed on the sidewalk, still holding on to the receiver. “How could he ever survive that? The radiation alone…”

“Lois, honey. Do you have anyone to be with you tonight?” Perry asked softly.

She shook her head. There was only Lucy, and she had sent her to the Kents.

Oh, God! The Kents! How are you ever going to tell Martha and Jonathan that their son is dead?

“Do you want me…? You don’t really want to be alone, do you?”

Lois continued to sob.

Of course, you don’t want to be alone! That’s why you married a man who was virtually indestructible.

“Lois, we don’t have any proof that Superman is dead, do we?” her boss said calmly.

She gasped for breath. “No.”

“Then we’ll keep that out of the story, shall we?” Perry suggested. “And keep our hopes alive.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Clark said he will always come back to you, Lois. You have to believe him.

“Why don’t you come down to the offices and type this up, darlin’?”

“Okay,” she repeated. Lois really didn’t want to return to her empty apartment. Actually, she didn’t want to do anything.

Concentrate on the story, Lois. You can become a vegetable later. Write your story. Tell the world what a wonderful man your husband is… how he saved them all.

“Great. I’ll call down and stop the presses. You hurry over. You know where the offices are?” he asked.

“Yeah, downtown somewhere,” she mumbled.

Perry gave her directions from the bookstore to the new Daily Planet offices. “You can’t miss it, honey. There’s a big globe out front.”

“Okay,” she said and dropped the phone, curling herself up into a ball.

Get on your feet, missy! You’ve got to write your Superman story, and you need to be strong enough to call the Kents. You can’t let them find out when they open their Daily Planet in the morning that their son was caught in a nuclear explosion.

Lois continued to sit on the sidewalk and rock herself back and forth.

GET UP! her inner voice yelled at her. Clark will never forgive you if you give up on him. Now, get off your butt, and get down to the Daily Planet. Write your story, and call the Kents. GO!

“I was supposed to die first,” she murmured. “I’m the vulnerable one. I was supposed to die first. He wasn’t supposed to…”

UP! Remember Clark vowed that ‘Not even death will part us.’ GET UP!

Suddenly, from deep inside her she felt something take over her body. It felt like it stretched down her arms to her fingers, down her legs to her toes, and it pulled Lois to her feet. It made her pick up the dangling receiver and hang it up. Then it opened her car door and threw Lois behind the wheel.

DRIVE!

Lois rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and then wiped her eyes. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and stuck them into the ignition.

***

Thursday — Very early morning

“Hey!” he heard someone call. Then something struck him. He thought it might be a pebble.

He opened his eyes. It was dark, but he could still see. He was lying in a hole… a big hole, almost the size of a small crater. He glanced up and looked at the man standing at the top of his hole, looking down at him. The man looked dirty, like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. He was probably homeless. And he was holding a handful of small rocks.

“Hey, Supes! Whatcha doing down in a hole?” the man asked him.

Huh? What? Who? He put a hand to his head, feeling the disorientation of sleep. Behind the man was a line of trees. Was he in the forest? “What did you call me?” he asked the man.

“Excuse me, Superman. Is that where you live?” the man asked him, impressed. “Are you one of us?”

Superman? “No, I don’t live in this hole,” he responded, looking around him. He didn’t know much, but he knew that at least.

He shifted his position, but something caught behind him was making it difficult to sit upright. A cape? He shook his head as he moved slightly so he was no longer sitting on his cape. He ran his hands over his head and then patted the dust from his clothes. He was definitely dusty, but he wasn’t dirty like the man with whom he was speaking. He himself must have had a bath sometime recently, so he doubted he was homeless.

The man reached down to him. “Do you need a hand up, Superman?”

Why did that man keep addressing him like that? Was it his name? Like Bob Superman? No, that couldn’t be right. He looked down at his clothes again.

A blue suit with a red cape and boots. Red shorts with a yellow belt… Red shorts? He shook his head. And some kind of red and yellow emblem on his chest. It looked a little bit like an ‘S’ in a upside-down triangle. Maybe it was an ‘S’ for Superman? Hmm? These didn’t seem like regular clothes. Maybe he was part of the circus?

He pulled himself to his feet and accepted the man’s hand. “Thank you… um…”

“Derek.” The man beamed at the thought of someone asking his name.

“Derek,” he repeated. Then he looked around. They seemed to be in some type of forest. “Where am I?”

“Man, I’ve had days like that,” the homeless man Derek said, nodding his head. “We’re just outside Echo Canyon.”

“Oh,” he responded, not any more knowledgeable about his location than before.

“A State Park, just outside of Metropolis,” clarified Derek. “We’re not supposed to be here. No camping, you know. But I won’t tell on you, if you don’t tell on me.” The man gave him a knowing look.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. Who would he tell, anyway?

Derek visibly relaxed at his words. “So, you going to fly back to Metropolis?” the man asked him. “Man, I wish I had your powers.”

“Fly?” He flew? “No,” he said hesitantly. “It’s a beautiful night; I believe I’ll walk. Thank you, Derek, for your assistance.”

“No problem, Superman,” replied Derek with a grin.

He nodded at the man and started walking.

“Uh, Superman?” Derek said cautiously.

He glanced at the homeless man behind him. “Yes?”

“Metropolis is that way.” Derek pointed in the opposite direction than he — Superman — had started walking.

“Thank you.” Superman nodded at the man and changed direction.

Superman had been walking a good fifteen minutes down a long dirt road, when the idea of flying became very appealing. This walking thing was taking far too long. He wondered how he flew? Did he need something to catapult him into the air, such as a cannon? Was it part of his circus act? Or could he just lift his hand into the air and think ‘fly’? Well, since he was all out of cannons at the moment… Superman stopped and took a look around. He was still surrounded by trees and was very much alone.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He thought about the blueness of the morning sky and the shimmering of night’s stars. He lifted one hand into the air and thought ‘sky’. The next moment the air felt colder and he opened his eyes. He was hovering above the forest. He flew! Oh, God! He flew! Now he knew why he was called Superman!

Then, he fell.

He landed in a heap on the dirt road, entirely too grateful that there wasn’t anyone around to witness what had just happened. Superman stood up and dusted himself off again. He was amazed that he hadn’t killed himself with that fall. So, he could fly. Good to know. Being able to control it, though, would have been better. He started down the road again on his feet.

Wow! He could fly. Not everyone could fly, right?

Derek had said something about powers. What kind of powers? Superman wondered. He seemed pretty unbreakable, falling from the sky with nary a scratch, bruise, or death. Since he could fly, apparently, would any of his other powers help him get off of this boring dirt road any time soon? What if he ran?

Superman focused on the switch from dirt road to paved road a good five football stadiums down the road. Taking another calming breath, he started running. Next thing he knew, the beginning of dirt road was behind him a good five football fields. Okay, he could run. Fast. He decided to stop there with the self-exploration for the moment — like how he knew how long a football stadium was when he couldn’t remember ever attending a game — and started running towards Metropolis. He was running so fast, it felt like the world beside him disappeared in a blur.

As Superman got to the edge of a town, he slowed down. Did he really want to go into a city like this? Not knowing his past? Not knowing his life? What he was known for? That homeless man from the woods — Derek — seemed to know who he was, but not him personally. So he must be well-known, if a homeless man living in the woods knew who he was.

“Superman” must be a nickname of sorts and not who he really was. He couldn’t imagine that actually being his name. He must have a real name, and once he discovered what it was, he would be able to track down his address and possibly people who knew him personally. People who would be able to fill in the blanks — and, at the moment, he felt like he had more blanks than answers. He wasn’t quite sure where to start looking for those answers though.

No, he needed to get some information before he went into the city. It wasn’t as if he was dressed like the mannequins in the window of the clothing store. He would stand out.

A newspaper delivery truck drove by. It was still early in the morning. The sun had not even peeked her head over the horizon. Newspaper truck — newspaper — News! Superman followed the truck to a newsstand where the driver was delivering a pile of new papers.

Hesitantly Superman approached the man at the back of the truck. He didn’t want to beg. He didn’t want a handout. He didn’t want to steal. He only wanted information.

“Good morning,” he said softly, but the deliveryman still jumped as if spooked.

The man grabbed his chest. Seeing who he was seemed even more of a shock.

“My apologies. I did not mean to startle you,” Superman continued.

The deliveryman snapped his jaw shut and found his voice, “No, that’s okay, Superman.”

So, he was well-known. Two out of two very different people had called him that.

“May I have one of your old newspapers?” Superman asked. He didn’t want to presume to ask the man for today’s news, especially since he had no funds with which to pay for it, but hopefully he would be able to learn something from the previous day’s paper.

The man just stared. “You read the newspaper?” That thought seemed to boggle the man’s mind. “Our newspaper?”

Superman glanced at the side of the man’s truck. The Daily Planet. He didn’t know why reading the Daily Planet would be different than reading any other newspaper. “Should I be reading another paper?” he asked. “Doesn’t the Daily Planet deal with truth and justice in its reporting? Does it not report the news of the day in a fair and just manner?”

“Of course. Of course.” The man nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, you may have a copy of yesterday’s paper. Actually, I have a copy of every paper this week in the truck. Here, take today’s as well.”

Superman raised a brow at the man’s generosity, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you,” he said as the man handed him the small pile of papers.

“No, Superman, thank you.”

He just nodded at that. For what was he being thanked? Taking the man’s old newspapers? He thought not. Superman decided to leave while the man had his back turned to close his truck. He didn’t really want to have too long a conversation with anyone without some hard facts in his head.

“Perry White is not going to believe this,” he heard the man mumble.

Superman furrowed his brow, wondering who this Perry White person was? Perhaps Superman would know better after he had a chance to peruse the week’s news. He stopped in a small copse of trees to read the papers in private. He didn’t really want to be caught sitting on a bench in town.

It must be hard for him to always go around in this outfit. He must stick out like a sore thumb. Did he ever go around in everyday clothes, just so he could blend in? He hoped so. Otherwise, life would be difficult always in the spotlight. Always having people watching him. Having no privacy. And if he didn’t, perhaps he would start the tradition now.

The deliveryman had only handed him four newspapers. Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, and Thursday’s. So today was Thursday, September 29, 1994. He looked down at the photo on the front page of Monday’s extremely thin paper, only a couple of sheets of paper thick; the entirety of which seemed to deal only about him. The photo was of Superman flying into the air with some kind of grey metal cylinders attached to his chest and a headset hooked on his ear. The headline above the photo read Superman Saves Earth from Nightfall asteroid.

He did what? No wonder the deliveryman was thanking him. He saved the planet. Superman sighed. It would have been nice to be able to remember that. He wondered about the bottles and the headset, because if those were part of the Superman package, he must have lost them along the way.

He quickly skimmed the article written by Lois Lane, Clark Kent, and Perry White. They had quotes in their article from him. They must have met him. Obviously they knew him, but did they know him personally? Did they know his real name? It wasn’t mentioned in the article. He put the reporters’ names down on an internal list of people to check out and continued to read the newspaper.

By the time he had finished Monday’s paper, he knew a few more things. The Daily Planet was a new newspaper. Monday’s brief edition had been its first in almost twenty years. That was why the deliveryman was surprised Superman had wanted his newspaper.

Secondly, Perry White was the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, not just a beat reporter. The article about Superman and Nightfall was so big that the editor had helped to write it.

Thirdly, in the photo he was wearing air canisters because he could only hold his breath for twenty minutes at a time. The headset was to communicate with EPRAD Control.

Fourthly, Superman had only been around publicly for the past — well, now since it was technically Thursday — two and half weeks. Had he only just arrived on this planet?

Fifthly, he — himself — was a pretty impressive guy. No wonder they called him “Superman.” Had he really flown a million miles into space and pushed an asteroid thirteen miles in diameter off its path to Earth? Wow. He was in awe with himself as well.

Superman wondered if that was why he had no memory. Did it have something to do with the Nightfall asteroid? That seemed logical, except for the fact that the Nightfall mission had taken place on Sunday and it was now Thursday. He couldn’t imagine he had been lying in that dusty hole for four days. Something must have happened more recently.

He added Professor Daitch, General Zeitlin, and John Cosgrove to his internal list of people he might want to contact to learn more about himself. But then he added a star next to their names. He couldn’t see them knowing too much if they had just contacted him for this one mission. Especially if he had only been around for a couple of weeks before Nightfall appeared.

Actually, he had learned quite a bit from Monday’s newspaper as it was entirely about him. There were some older stories, reprinted from other newspapers on the inside of this paper. In one, it announced that he — “the Flying Man” as they had called him at first — rescued a colossal plane and returned it to the Metropolis International Airport safely. Apparently, the rescue of that plane was the first time anyone had actually seen Superman.

No, that wasn’t quite true. In another article, he had been interviewed one-on-one by Lois Lane, the same reporter who had quoted him on that front-page article. Only this older article was more personal and more intimate. It was entitled Learning about Superman and was co-written with Clark Kent.

Apparently, Superman had rescued Lois when she had fallen into the street several weeks previously. So Superman wasn’t brand-new to Earth when he had saved the plane. The main gist of the article was about how he had flown Lois down to a deserted beach in Costa Rica, so that they could talk in private, and how he had told her all about himself and his powers. He had come from another planet called Krypton, but that was all he had told her about his home planet — its name.

He had then melted the sand on the beach with his heat vision? Okay. He should be careful about that or someone could get hurt. Then he had used his invulnerability — he already knew from his fall that he was unbreakable — to form a glass fish with his bare hands, which he then cooled with his super cooling breath. There was a picture of the crude fish next to the article. Superman would rather have had a photograph of Lois Lane as he was curious what this woman looked like.

Why would he have chosen her out of all the other reporters in the world to interview him? Was it because she already knew about him from that earlier rescue? They must have remained on friendly terms after that first interview if she was able to still get quotes from him for her front page article. He quickly scanned the photos on the other newspapers, but there weren’t any photos of her in any of those papers either.

A small snippet in Tuesday’s paper caught his eye. Lois Lane and Clark Kent — these two seemed to be a team of some sort as their names were consistently mentioned together — surmised that Superman had returned to Earth safely after his ordeal with Nightfall, because Superman had actually contacted Clark Kent briefly. According to the article, Superman had not been seen on Earth since he pushed the asteroid off course on Sunday. The reporters didn’t seem worried by his lack of rescues nor had catalogued him as “missing.” So, Superman gathered, he had contacted Clark Kent.

Superman was glad to know that he hadn’t been sleeping in that hole for four days. He exhaled a breath of relief, accidentally blowing the papers into the air with a burst of wind. Ooops. He caught the papers and tried to piece them back together in order. Wednesday’s paper didn’t have much information about him but focused more on the stock markets and the continued celebrations around the world on his behalf. Perhaps he had been resting after battling Nightfall after all. He couldn’t believe moving a rock that large could have been easy.

Suddenly, he caught sight of the front page of today’s newspaper. Superman Saves Moon from Nightfall. What? Hadn’t he dealt with Nightfall back on Sunday? He skimmed the article. He hadn’t pushed the asteroid far enough off course the first time. According to Lois Lane — he had to find this woman — Superman had gone into space to save the Earth from nuclear fallout from the Asgard rocket, which the military had sent to destroy the asteroid.

He was glad Superman was anti-nuclear weapons, but he was sure that he hadn’t earned any friends in the military for interrupting their mission.

Lois wrote that she had a source from within EPRAD who had conclusively demonstrated that the Asgard rocket had veered off-course a minute before impact and did not detonate until after Nightfall had been destroyed. This evidence led her to believe that it was Superman, not the Asgard rocket, who blew up Nightfall.

Well, Superman thought, leaning back against a tree. That could do it. That might cause his memory loss. Speeding into a huge rock at top speed and then being exposed to a nuclear explosion. He only hoped he wasn’t radioactive. He shrugged. He needed to find this Lois Lane or her partner Clark Kent. Maybe these reporters knew more about him than they had printed in the paper. Something off-the-record… like his name.

***

Thursday — Morning

Superman looked down at the paper in his hand. The Metropolis Star’s articles he had found in a recycling bin gave him a slightly different viewpoint to Superman, but he still felt that Lois Lane and Clark Kent knew more about him than that other reporter — what was her name? Linda King — despite the photo of him carrying her into her newsroom. The Met Star had seemed almost tabloid in its attention to their ‘close relationship.’

He lifted up the receiver on the payphone and dialed. He had done a quick search of the town of Vernon before finding a couple of quarters. He wanted to make this call quick before anyone saw Superman standing in a phone booth.

“James Olsen, Daily Planet.”

“Hello. May I speak with Lois Lane?” Superman asked warily.

“CK, my main man. Where are you?” James asked enthusiastically.

“Excuse me, no. This isn’t… CK?” Superman stammered uncomfortably.

“No? I’m so sorry. Lois was out late on a story and isn’t in yet today,” James replied.

Oh. Superman hadn’t thought of the possibility that she wouldn’t be in the office. What about her writing partner? “Ah. How about Clark Kent? Is he in?”

“No. He’s… No. He’s not in.” The man sounded almost sad when he spoke this.

“Is there a way I could contact them at home?” Superman asked, knowing the man’s answer before he spoke it. “This is a private matter.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t give out personal information.”

“Right. Of course.” Superman sighed, resigned.

“I could take a message and pass it along,” James suggested. “What’s your name?”

Superman froze. If he knew his name…? He glanced down to the copy of the Metropolis Star in his hand. “Charlie. Charlie King,” he replied.

James chuckled. “And you said you weren’t a CK. Hope you aren’t related to Linda; Lois might not call you back if you were. Hey, what’s your number, Charlie?”

Huh? Oh, yeah, Charlie King did have the initials CK… Just like Clark Kent. Did this man think he was Clark Kent at first? He shouldn’t have used Linda’s last name. That had been a mistake. “No number. I’ll try back later,” Superman responded, hanging up.

He didn’t want to go into the city, but he didn’t think hanging out here in the suburbs was going to help him discover his true identity. He picked up the receiver again and dialed information.

“LexComm Information. What name are you looking for, please?” the operator answered.

“Last name, Lane. First name, Lois. In Metropolis,” he said and could hear the woman typing.

“Sorry, she has an unlisted number,” she replied and then after a pause she added. “And I would, too, if I were Superman’s girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” he sputtered. He had a girlfriend?

“Lois Lane is Superman’s girlfriend. Where have you been? Living in a hole?” cracked the operator.

“No, I…” Superman caught himself. “How about an address?”

“Look, mister, if we can’t give you her number, there’s no way we could give you her address. Anyway, that’s not how our system works. Unlisted numbers don’t show up at all. Just come back as ‘U-N-L,’” she explained.

“Oh, right. Thank you,” Superman said, hanging up. His feet seemed to lift off the ground. He had a girlfriend. Lois Lane is his girlfriend! Who knew a call to information would actually give him the information he sought?!

Superman has a girlfriend! There was someone who knew him personally. Someone with whom he probably shared his secrets. Someone who would know where he lived and if he had another name. He needed to find Lois Lane. He wondered what she looked like.

Okay. What now?

Metropolis Star had written something about an investigation into a Lex Luthor. It had mentioned something about Superman working with a detective. Superman closed his eyes and reviewed his mental ‘people to contact list.’ William Henderson. It was another long shot, but if nothing else, maybe he knew Lois’s phone number.

Superman put his last quarter into the payphone and dialed the police headquarters. “Hello, I would like to speak with Detective William Henderson… Yes, I’ll hold.”

***

Lois sat on her bed. Actually, it was still a couch as she hadn’t pushed her futon into a bed. She had somehow gotten to the office the night before, wrote her story about Nightfall and Superman, called the Kents, came home, and sat down. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t showered. She hadn’t changed her clothes. She hadn’t talked to anyone. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t moved. She had just sat there and stared at the white wall, behind where she used to have her TV. She hadn’t wanted to look anywhere else, somewhere she might have a memory of Clark. She had just sat and wondered how she was going to live her life without him.

If she had looked at the front door, she would have thought of him changing her locks after the break-in. Or one of the many times his smiling face had been on the other side of her door. Or that time he had brought her a big pile of snow as an apology for not trusting her. Or that first night she had pressed him against her front door and kissed him, not letting him escape.

If she had looked at the desk, she would have been reminded of that one time Clark had been so angry, thinking she had cheated on him, that he had forgotten to put his glasses back on when he had come to yell at her.

The dining room table had so many memories. The first morning after Clark had stayed the night, cuddling with her on the couch — the night her globe had first glowed — when he had gone out and bought her Danishes. She had always meant to ask him where he had gotten those. Now she never could. Or the night of the break-in when he had brought her pizza from Chicago. Or the big pile of snow night, when he had brought spaghetti and meatballs. Or the time he had come over as Kal because he had needed her comfort and her quiet reassurance that he had still done good, even though he hadn’t been able to save everyone after an earthquake. Or when he had proposed to her with Nana Clark’s ring.

The bathroom didn’t have any memories of them, but only of her thinking of him. Her paranoid fear of not knowing how she had come home that first night when he had rescued her. Or when she had remembered her erotic dream of him and then heard him drop the orange juice and the dishes because he had heard her mumbling how much she wished he would suck her toes like he had in the dream. Or when she had gone and cried after he accused her of lying to him about the missing condoms the robbers had stolen. Or when she had found his glasses after he had run to hide in the bathroom after accidentally admitting to her he was still a virgin. Or last Thursday night, when she had piled the twenty boxes of condoms her father had sent under the sink. Condoms that would now never be used… not by her.

The kitchen didn’t hold too many memories, because they hadn’t really spent much time there. There was that big pile of snow night when she had tried to cook herself ramen. And then last Friday morning, when he had come over to cook her omelets before asking her to marry him.

Lois couldn’t even look over at her bookshelf, where she had kept the globe before it had been stolen. Memories of Clark’s crushed heart showing in his expression when he learned it was gone after only just having found out about his origin. The glass fish he had made her when he took her away to that beach in Costa Rica — that first day he had revealed his secret and powers to her — now sat in the globe’s old spot. Not that he had told her that Kal-El — Superman — and Clark were the same person… oh, no! Not that! But she had known nonetheless.

She didn’t even want to think of the futon. They had never made love on that bed. They were supposed to. He was supposed to come and live with her, starting yesterday. They had slept together several times though. They had cuddled together while the futon was still a couch, falling asleep watching Lethal Weapon movies. Or that night — had it been that same night? — when Lois had stolen his glasses while he slept and saw what an incredibly sexy man Clark was without them on. Or the night Clark — dressed as Superman — had burst into her apartment and hauled her away to his parents’ apartment because he discovered someone — it turned out to be Lex Luthor — had bugged her apartment. Or the night they had snuggled together, instead of making love, because she was punishing him for calling her a streetwalker when she agreed to have dinner with Lex Luthor. But in her dreams… Lois sighed. In her dreams, they had made love over and over and over again on this futon bed. Who knew that, in reality, he would be a better lover than in her dreams?

Lois didn’t want to think about how it felt when Clark’s hands caressed her body. Or how he cupped her chin in his palm when he gazed at her or wanted to kiss her. Or how he had set his hand at the curve of her back whenever they walked into or out of a room. Any room. Any time. She had always been assured to feel that gentle touch. Her eyes slowly blinked. Or how muscular his body had been, but how he had never hurt her physically. How firm and steady and graceful he had been… well, unless she had done something to surprise him. Or how Clark’s lips had curved up just so when he smiled at her, unsure, almost sheepishly, when he had said or done something he knew he shouldn’t have.

Or how he had brushed her lips with his thumb when he wanted to kiss her, but also hadn’t wanted to stop looking at her. Or how it had felt when she finally had kissed him, like her toes curled and she was floating on air. Or how when he…

The jingling of the telephone knocked her out of her reverie. Her head turned and stared at the phone.

Answer it, Lois! What if it’s Clark?

Two seconds later, the phone was gripped in her hand, “Clark?”

***

Superman’s fingers tapped nervously on the shelf in the phone booth as he waited.

“Twelfth precinct. Detective Henderson. How can I help you?” said the voice that finally answered the phone.

“Detective Henderson, how well do you know Superman?” Superman asked the policeman faster than he meant to.

“We’ve met… on occasion,” replied Henderson slowly, vaguely. “He’s a good guy.”

Superman liked this man and his wry humor immediately. “Do you know Lois Lane?” he asked.

“We’ve met.”

Again with the vague answer. Then again, Henderson didn’t know with whom he spoke. Superman wasn’t sure if this man would be able to help him or not. “How is she?”

The detective paused without answering for a moment. “You would have to ask her.”

“I’m having difficulty reaching her,” Superman admitted. “She may have something I lost.”

“Ah,” Henderson replied. “I’m not her social secretary.”

“No. Of course not. I didn’t mean to imply…” Superman pressed his lips together. How did one pass a message to one’s girlfriend without saying his ‘title’ or knowing any of the players or his own real name?

“Have you tried the Daily Planet?” suggested Henderson. Superman heard the man’s chair squeak like he was leaning back and relaxing in it.

“Yes. She’s not in.”

“Perhaps she will be in later today. Is it urgent?”

Superman couldn’t hang out in this phone booth all day. “Somewhat.”

“Why contact me?” Henderson asked.

“I’m hoping you might be able to help me find what I’ve lost,” Superman replied vaguely. He could do subtle as well.

“Is it of a sensitive nature?”

“I believe so,” stated Superman.

“Do you think that Ms. Lane stole your missing item? Is that why you’re calling me?”

“No. No.” Superman wanted to groan. This conversation was going nowhere. “I’m hoping she has it. Or knows who might,” Superman said, getting more frustrated by the moment.

“I still don’t understand why you are contacting me,” Henderson told him.

Superman winced. He was afraid of that. “Does Superman trust you?”

“I hope so, but he holds his cards close to the vest.”

I do? “If he did, it would be a good recommendation for me to trust you. But if he didn’t, you’d probably lie about it anyway,” Superman said, stating his thoughts out loud.

“True,” Henderson replied with a hint of a chuckle, but his heart rate didn’t increase. The policeman wasn’t nervous. “Perhaps you should ask him.”

“I wish I could,” Superman mumbled, wiping a hand down his face. If he could, he wouldn’t be making this call in the first place.

“Ah. That’s the crux, isn’t it? No one has seen Superman since last Sunday when he left EPRAD control,” Henderson said.

“That long? No, that’s not right. Lois Lane and Clark Kent spoke with him yesterday. Or at least a few days ago,” Superman corrected. “There was that little blurb in the Daily Planet that said that he had contacted the reporters and told them he had returned safely from space.”

“Is that what this is about? Do you want Ms. Lane to contact Superman?” Henderson asked.

Desperately! He sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s possible…” Without me, Superman wanted to add. But, if he admitted that to the detective, he would no longer be holding his cards to his chest. He took a deep breath. “Without me,” he murmured, hoping he was doing the right thing.

He heard Henderson’s chair scrape the floor as if he suddenly sat up. “This thing of yours that Ms. Lane has, what is it?”

“I cannot tell you.” Superman could not admit to just anyone about his missing memories.

“Do you know where Superman is?” Henderson asked.

“I’ve said too much already. Just tell her that he’s fine. I’ll contact…”

“What’s your name?” Henderson demanded.

“I don’t… I’m going by the name of Charlie King,” Superman told him and hung up. That went badly. Very badly. Now Detective Henderson thought Charlie King was holding Superman hostage.

Superman pushed open the door of the phone booth and walked in the direction of the island of New Troy. Staying in the suburbs wasn’t going to solve his problems. The people who knew him personally were in Metropolis. Probably. Whether he wanted the exposure or not, Metropolis was the place to go.

He groaned as he wiped his hand down his face again. He could feel the rough stubble of a morning beard shadowing his face. He sighed. This was going to be a long day.

***

Thursday — Mid-Morning

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “Sorry, Ms. Lane, Detective Henderson here.”

Lois’s heart slammed back onto the ground. “What do you want?” she snapped.

Wow! Testy much? Maybe he has news on Clark.

Lois snarled at her inner voice. She wasn’t interested in niceties.

“Do you know the name Charlie King?” he asked.

“No,” Lois said tersely. “Look, Henderson, this is really a bad…”

“Where’s Clark?” he asked, cutting her off.

Lois choked back a sob. “Missing. We got separated when he went to go searching for Superman yesterday morning and…”

“And you haven’t heard from Superman? Today?”

“Not since Clark went to…”

“And you don’t know a Charlie King?” he asked again.

“No! Should I?” her angry voice shook like thunder.

“A man who called himself Charlie King phoned me this morning because he couldn’t reach you,” Henderson explained.

“Probably another sicko fan,” Lois shook her head.

“He told me to tell you…” the policeman paused.

“What?!”

“That Superman is fine,” he answered softly.

Lois gasped as a chill drizzled down her entire body before she stiffened. “No, he’s not.”

“No?”

“If he was ‘fine,’ he would have tried to contact me or Clark…” her voice trailed off. “He’s Clark’s best…” She had no more energy to lie.

“If I see Clark, I’ll let him know you’re worried,” Henderson told her.

Lois sighed. “No offense, Detective, but if you see Clark before I do, it will be because you found his body.”

***

Her phone rang again. Lois didn’t want to answer it, but her inner voice told her again, ‘it might be Clark.’

“Hi, Darlin’. Want to tell me why you aren’t at your desk? Are you working on a hot lead from home?” Perry’s voice asked in the phone.

Oh, God. Your boss. You don’t want to talk to him.

“Clark’s still missing,” she finally squeaked out.

“What?! He hasn’t made it home yet?” Perry seemed surprised. But, then again, the Chief had known about Clark’s invulnerability longer than she had.

“No.” Lois lacked the energy to say more.

“You want me to send Jimmy over there? You two could search for him together. It isn’t like Clark to disappear like that,” Perry told her, but he seemed distracted. She could hear another voice in the background.

“Perry, you and I both know there isn’t anything to find.” She sighed.

“What’s this?” Her boss was obviously talking to that other person in his office. “Jimmy thinks I’m your assistant and has given me your messages.”

Lois groaned. She didn’t want her messages. She wanted to go back to thinking about Clark.

“Nunk… Jimmy, you don’t have to take messages from snake oil salesmen…” Lois could hear Perry crinkling up that message. “Charlie King? No number… Henderson. Hey, Lois, that’s the detective from the Lex Luthor case, isn’t it? You should definitely call him back. See if there’s a follow-up…”

“My. Husband. Is. Missing. And. Probably. Dead!” Lois growled. “You and the Daily Planet can just wait until I process that.”

“Clark’s not dead, honey,” her boss reassured her. “You’ve got to have some faith in him. Lots of people went missing during the Nightfall confusion. Hell, LexComm isn’t one hundred percent yet. It’s still a mess out there, which is why I need all hands on deck. If I know Clark, and I do, he’s working his way back to you. Give him some time and…”

“He was exploded by a nuclear bomb!” she screamed. “The man I love is dead! He’s not coming back! He’s not working his way back to me! Let me grieve!”

Lois slammed the phone back in its base and slunk down to the floor in a pool of tears.

***

Thursday — Mid-Day

Superman set down the latest issue of Earth News with him on the cover. This one showed four very frozen looking men with flamethrowers. Frosty End to The Toasters: Superman Cleans up Crime in Metropolis. He had been worried at first that he had killed those men, but the article claimed they got nothing worse than a mild case of frostbite.

His eyes gravitated back to the photos gracing the cover of Dirt Digger Weekly. Half the frame showed him flying with Lois in his arms, her head resting against his chest. A very tender photo. The other half of the cover showed her in a baseball hat and ridiculously huge sunglasses. Her hand was raised to block the photographer from taking her photo, her other hand gripping the arm of a brown-haired man in the dark suit and glasses. The headline above both photos read: The Two Lives of Lois Lane.

Seeing that cover seemed to squash the little hope he had. Lois Lane obviously was with that other man now. Photos did not lie. Since arriving at this newsstand he had seen photo after photo of himself with Lois Lane. She was beautiful. Stunning, really. He had actually been excited about meeting her.

And then the newsstand owner had unpacked a couple of bundles of new tabloids. There was this one and then the National Inquisitor screamed: Lois Dumped Superman for Him? And it showed a photo of Superman side by side another photo of that other man. Neither photo had been very good. Clark Kent, Superman soon discovered, was the man’s name. Her writing partner.

Superman’s heart actually hurt at the thought of this woman’s love slipping through his fingers. Maybe it hadn’t been the asteroid that had taken away his memories. Perhaps it had been Lois’s betrayal. He looked at her picture and at once he felt like flying to the heavens while also hurtling himself off the nearest building. Like that would do any good, he scoffed. Sometimes it sucked being unbreakable.

He loved Lois Lane. He knew he did. His heart did a tap dance when he first saw her picture. How thrilled he had been that this woman — with doe eyes and a haunting smile — had chosen him instead of a man from her home planet. How naïve!

A tall, thin man with salt and pepper hair, wearing an ill-fitting blue business suit, approached the newsstand. “Hi, Mike.”

“Hi, Bill,” replied the man who worked the booth.

“Did you save me a Daily Planet?” Bill asked.

“Good thing I did. They’ve been flying off the shelf with Lois Lane’s article that Superman’s still around. People are excited about that,” Mike replied, handing the paper to Bill.

Superman scoffed out loud. Back. Ha!

Both men glanced over at him, but then returned to their conversation.

“I see they’ve realized the error of their ways and promoted you again,” said Mike.

“Thanks, Mike, for always believing they would,” Bill replied, tapping him lightly with the folded newspaper. Then he nodded towards Superman, who had opened another magazine. And Bill lowered his voice — as if that would stop Superman from overhearing them. “He giving you any trouble?”

“Nah. I think he’s waiting for someone. He’s been reading anything and everything to do with Superman,” Mike told him.

“How long has he been here?” Bill asked.

“Over an hour. But he keeps to himself. Doesn’t bother the other customers. And they…” Mike sighed. “A few of them tried speaking with him, but he just nods a greeting and returns his attention to whatever he’s reading.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He seems upset about something, so the other customers have mostly been giving him a wide berth.”

Gee, discovering that the love of his life dumped him for some bespectacled newsman upset him? Imagine that. Superman shook his head in disgust.

“Thanks again for the paper, Mike,” Bill replied and started to walk away.

Superman was happy that Bill had decided to leave. He would rather wallow alone.

“Hi, Superman,” Bill said casually, suddenly by his side.

Great. Another one. Why wouldn’t they just leave him alone? Superman acknowledged him with a nod and returned to the magazine in his hand, ignoring the man.

There wasn’t really anything new in that one. As he put it back on the rack, his eyes drifted back to the Dirty Digger Weekly tabloid he had propped up in front of him. He closed his eyes to block the pain that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at that photo of Lois with that other man.

“You know you can’t always believe what you read, don’t you, Superman?” Bill said gently, still by his side. “Tabloids are notorious for their lies.”

A glimmer of hope sparked in Superman’s chest but then died again. “Photos don’t lie.”

Oh, God! Had he said that out loud? He stepped away from the man… from Bill and from that photo of Clark Kent.

“She didn’t dump you, Superman,” Bill said quietly.

What?! Superman turned to face the man next to him, his heart making up for all the beats it lost since he saw that photo. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a lie, because Lois Lane never dated Superman,” Bill explained. “She’s been dating Clark since before you showed up.”

“She has?” he sputtered. Then why the photos? Why did he feel this way about her?

“And you’d never try to steal your best friend’s girl? Now, would you, Superman?” Bill prodded.

Superman stared at Bill. Clark Kent was his best friend? He had fallen in love with his best friend’s girlfriend? And this man knew about it? “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about…” he stammered. No, of course he wouldn’t try to steal away Clark Kent’s girl. No matter how tempting the idea was.

The man — Bill — reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open. Only it wasn’t a wallet; it was an ID badge. “Detective Henderson,” Bill said, introducing himself. “Are you Charlie?”

***

Thursday — Early Afternoon

The phone rang. Lois didn’t know how long it had been since she had hung up on Perry. It could have been five minutes. It could have been two hours. Or a day. Her body felt numb.

Come on, honey. Third time’s a charm, coaxed her inner voice, who strangely enough still had hope left for Clark.

Lois herself could not move. “He’s dead,” she whispered. What was the point of answering the phone? More torture? More torment from good-natured friends? No thank you.

She felt that floating sensation through her body again, tingling down her arms and legs. Suddenly the phone was in her hand; she didn’t recall picking it up. “Hello?” Lois said, although she didn’t think she had actually spoken.

“Hey, Lane, Detective Henderson again…”

“I’m sorry, Lois Lane is comatose right now, please leave a message and I’ll try to pound it through her thick skull until she hears it. Beep.”

Lois knew she hadn’t said those words. It sounded like her voice, but it didn’t sound like her. She was deep inside her mind lingering, listening to this dream, wondering why she was saying these strange things.

Henderson didn’t reply right away. “Okay.”

“Do you have any news on Clark?” she heard herself ask the Detective. Detective? When had Henderson been promoted from street cop?

“No… No…” Henderson answered slowly. “But I found Charlie King.”

“Big deal. Another sicko behind bars, just to be released to torment me another day,” the person with her voice replied.

Henderson ignored her statement as he continued, “Charlie wants to help you find Clark…”

“Unless he can fly…” her voice interrupted.

“Funny that you should say that, Lane. Charlie’s dressed as Superman.”

Lois gasped like a drowning victim after getting mouth-to-mouth. A little bile came up from her stomach as the air reached her lungs. She coughed a couple of times as she continued to gasp for air. And then she spoke; this time she knew she was in control, though her voice was hoarse, “You have Superman down at your office?”

“Looking right at him. Just needs verification of his identity to be released,” Henderson explained.

“Do. Not. Let. Him. Leave! I’ll be right there.” Lois dropped the phone and grabbed her purse and car keys, running out the door.

***

Superman sat in an interrogation room. He knew it was an interrogation room, but he wasn’t quite sure how he knew. He recognized the window that acted like a mirror. He could see others standing on the other side of it, even though he wasn’t supposed to. There was that psychiatrist who had just interviewed him. Must be one of his powers — super x-ray sight — even though he didn’t remember it mentioned in any of the articles.

First, Henderson had taken him to visit a friend of his at a place called S.T.A.R. Labs. The scientist’s name had been Bernard Klein, PhD. A strange man. Odd. Nice. Of course, everything and everyone seemed odd today. Perhaps he himself had been the oddest of the group. Dr. Klein had checked out Superman’s radioactivity levels and had found them slightly higher than norm, but not any more dangerous than if he had given dose of radiotherapy once or twice. Been human and had had a dose of radiotherapy, that was.

Next, the detective had returned with him to the police station and had asked that Superman speak with Dr. Teri McCorkle, the department’s police psychiatrist, about his missing memories. Per Henderson’s request on their drive back to Precinct Twelve — or was it Twelfth Precinct? — Superman didn’t demonstrate any of his super powers to anyone at the police station. They both thought it wiser if nobody realized that he was the real McCoy.

Superman watched as Henderson, that psychiatrist, and some other blonde lady discussed him.

“Henderson, I heard from a source that you brought Superman in…” said the blonde woman, whom, now that she had turned toward the window to ogle him, Superman recognized. Linda King. That woman from the Metropolis Star. “What’s he doing here?”

“He doesn’t know. We picked him up at the Fifth Street Mission,” Henderson said to her, obviously lying. Why would Henderson tell her that?

“Superman!” she called to him as she knocked on the window.

“He can’t see you. It’s a one-way,” Henderson explained.

Only Superman could see and hear her — all of them — just fine.

“It doesn’t matter anyway; he can’t remember a thing,” the detective continued. “Where he works, who he is, me, you. Doc? Dr. Teri McCorkle, this is Linda King. Dr. McCorkle is our department shrink.”

“What could have caused this?” Linda asked, turning her attention to the psychiatrist.

“Several possibilities. I guess anxiety caused by this asteroid could be a factor. On the other hand…” stared the doctor.

“Hold on a minute. Superman, anxious? I don’t think so. What other theories do you have?” Linda said.

What? He couldn’t be anxious? Why not? Actually, he felt pretty darn worried at this exact minute, because he felt like Detective Henderson was throwing him under a bus to the press.

“These cases are often triggered by some kind of physical trauma,” continued the doctor.

“Well,” Linda rolled her eyes. “There are rumors that he crashed into Nightfall, blowing it up, yesterday… pure speculation and drivel, mind you,” stated the reporter, clearly not a fan of Lois Lane’s work. “But he did push Nightfall off course… maybe colliding with the asteroid. Perhaps when he lost his microphone, it was because he banged his head… but that was on Sunday.”

“Or maybe he was hit by a car,” suggested Henderson. “And knocked into some garbage.”

What was Henderson up to? Car? Garbage? Neither of those things would bang Superman up or give him amnesia.

“It could be delayed reaction,” Dr. McCorkle agreed, nodding her head.

Linda rolled her eyes at the detective and then ignored his interjection. “Will he be okay?” she asked, staring at Superman again.

Superman didn’t want to catch the reporter’s eye or she would know he could see her.

“Physically, he’s fine,” replied the psychiatrist.

“Well, duh?! He’s Superman,” Linda scoffed.

Superman stood up and walked toward the mirror. He had just realized that he was starting to develop a bit of visible stubble along his jaw. He wondered if his beard was invulnerable, too. Great! Just what he needed. How did one shave invulnerable stubble?

“Whether or not he’ll regain his memory immediately, I don’t know. Based on the battery of questions we asked him, it seems like he’s suffering from what we call the Superman complex,” said Dr. McCorkle.

“Of course he does.” Linda chuckled. “Don’t we all?”

Superman looked at his teeth in the mirror. His mouth felt like it was as dry as three-day-old bread. He could use a shower and a bed. He wanted to go home, wherever that was. He rubbed his teeth with his finger, hoping the fuzzy feeling that was developing would be relieved.

“What I mean is that he’s a chronic do-gooder, who thinks he can handle anything. This kind of setback can be very frustrating.”

Really? It took a trained psychiatrist to realize that he felt frustrated? Please! He could have told her that. He did tell her that.

“Tell me what I should do,” Linda asked.

Her? Superman didn’t want Linda to do anything. Thank you very much. He wanted Lois Lane to take charge of his mental health. Actually, he wanted Lois Lane to be in charge of more than his mental health, but he would settle for that. Maybe between her and Clark Kent, he would be able to recover some of his missing memories. Hadn’t he heard Henderson telephone the Daily Planet reporter?

“Charlie needs to be surrounded by familiar people, do familiar things. It will come back to him in time. Just be patient with him,” said the doctor.

“Charlie?” Linda inquired, confused. “Who’s Charlie?”

“He is,” said Henderson, nodding towards Superman on the other side of the window, not able to hide his smile any longer. “That’s Charlie King. He’s a professional Superman impersonator. Witnesses reported someone dressed as Superman getting hit by car yesterday during the celebrations and knocked into some garbage cans. His family called him in missing last night. They’re on their way now.”

“Wait? You aren’t Charlie King’s wife?” exclaimed Dr. McCorkle, glancing between Linda King and Detective Henderson. “With the same last name, I just assumed…”

Superman shook his head as he walked over to another window and played with the blinds. Charlie King was really his name? He thought he had made it up. If he was just a Superman impersonator, how could he fly?

Linda sneered at Henderson. “Very funny. Very funny.” Then she turned her almost leering gaze back to Superman. “King? Huh? Are you sure he’s not my long lost husband?”

“Positive. He’s got a wife, Lola, and a kid on the way,” Henderson told her.

Superman gulped. He was married and going to be a father? His heart ached as he looked down at the floor. He honestly felt chagrined for lusting after Lois Lane. Why hadn’t Henderson told him about his wife? Or was Henderson lying to Linda King again?

A few minutes later, Henderson led Superman out to the chair next to his desk. Superman sat down, completely confused. Was he Superman? Or was he just a Superman impersonator, like the detective told Linda King? No, an impersonator wouldn’t be able to fly, even for the five seconds he had. An impersonator would have been able to hear them talking about him or seen them through the one-way mirror. No, Henderson wouldn’t have called Lois Lane if he had been an impersonator married to a woman named Lola, especially if Clark Kent was his best friend.

Of course, Henderson may only have wanted to play a joke on Lois like he had with Linda King. And Henderson was the one who told Superman that Clark Kent was his best friend…

The din in the police station was louder out here in the pits than in the interrogation room, where everything had been blissfully muted. Superman had only heard what he had wanted to hear — what he had concentrated on hearing. Out here he could hear every little noise as it slammed into his head. It wasn’t a painful experience, and he probably wouldn’t end up with a headache, but it sure was annoying.

Through the sea of sounds, Superman heard a gasp and a feminine voice whisper, “Is that really him?”

What differentiated this gasp and those words from all the other ones he had heard today, he wasn’t sure. Superman suspected it had to do with the elevated heartbeat he also heard. He looked around the room, wondering if he could find the source of that voice.

“You tell me, Lane. You’re the expert,” he heard Henderson reply.

Lane! Lois Lane was here? Superman didn’t want to appear too excited but he was. Someone who knew him. Who could fill in the missing details of his life. Who could take him home. To his wife? Did he even have a wife? Or was that part of the practical joke on Ms. King?

“He’s alive?” Ms. Lane choked out.

She had thought he had died? Invulnerable, little ol’ Superman? Dead? No, Henderson wouldn’t play such a practical joke on Lois Lane, like he had with Linda King. That would be just cruel.

Superman had convinced himself that he was head-over-heels in love with Lois Lane. He didn’t know how it had happened, it just had. But there was something in Lois’s tone of voice that said his death had affected her deeply. His heart skipped a beat. Was there a part of her that actually loved Superman?

No matter how many times he argued with himself about loving her, Superman still couldn’t change his own mind. But if there was a part of her that loved him, would he fight for her love? Encourage it to grow? Or would finally meeting her in person, seeing her face-to-face, slap him back to reality on how one-sided his love was? Of how much she loved her boyfriend Clark? He continued to look around for Lois. He stood up and gazed squarely in to the eyes of Linda King.

“Honey, it’s me. Linda!” At his dazed expression, she continued, “How could you not remember what we meant to each other?” There was a slight pout to these words.

“Linda King, right?” Superman asked, his brow furrowing. “I guess you’ve interviewed me once or twice.”

“We do a lot more than that,” Linda said, a slight smile brushing her lips

“We do?” Superman replied skeptically. Personally, he couldn’t believe he would ever be attracted to Linda, not with Lois Lane in the world.

“We’ve kept it a secret. You’re so worried about what people think.” Linda glanced over her shoulder at a glowering brunette. “Especially her.”

Superman leaned over and took a look at the brunette to whom Linda was referring. She seemed a bit familiar, but he couldn’t place her face.

He shook his head as Linda continued speaking. “You don’t even remember us?” Then she started weeping into her hands.

“Um…” Superman wasn’t quite sure what do. Had they had a relationship? If they had, he really felt bad about not remembering. He patted her shoulders kindly, uncomfortably.

Linda took that as a cue to pull him into a tight embrace. “Does this refresh your memory?”

Superman could tell that Linda was really enjoying the hug as she rubbed her body against his. From over Linda’s shoulder he realized at second glance that the brunette was actually Lois Lane. She stood in the doorway to the squad room and at stared at him. Them. And there was fire in her eyes. He shrugged apologetically. What else could he do? He didn’t want to be in Linda’s embrace any more than Lois wanted him to be there.

Gently, he pushed the blonde woman out of his arms. “I’m sorry… Miss King. I truly don’t remember you. You are making me feel uncomfortable.”

Linda seemed perturbed by this development and glared at him. “Kiss me!” she demanded. “I know how Superman kisses and I’ll be able to tell the difference between an imposter and the real thing.”

Superman took another step back, almost in horror. Disbelief streaked across his face. “Excuse me?” He had kissed this woman? Why? Had he been rebounding from Lois’s rejection? Or was Linda lying? Either way, he was certainly not going to kiss her.

Linda grabbed his head and pulled his face towards hers, planting a kiss on his lips. Superman took several steps away from her, tripped over a chair, and landed on his butt. He fixed his eyes on the Metropolis Star reporter in shock. She pressed her lips together and looked down at him with sneering disdain. “You aren’t Superman,” she told him flippantly and stormed out of the squad room amongst a flurry of titters and guffaws. “He’s all yours, Tiny Town,” scoffed Linda as she passed Lois Lane and Detective Henderson.

Superman felt completely humiliated as his eyes connected with those of the dark-haired beauty across the room again. Maybe Linda King was right. Maybe he wasn’t who he had thought he was. Right now, he felt anything but super under the scrutiny of those dark brown eyes that penetrated deep inside him.

Lois broke eye contact and, as she turned to leave, mumbled, “I can’t do this…”

Henderson took hold of her arm and spoke softly. Superman doubted anyone but the three of them could hear. “He’s a blank slate.”

She froze. Her back, which still faced Superman, stiffened. “Wh… what?” she stammered.

“He’s lost his memory. He doesn’t remember himself, let alone Clark or…”

“Me?” Lois squeaked, looking at the detective. “He doesn’t remember Clark?” She gulped. She turned and faced Superman for a moment, fear in her eyes. “But… But… Superman… was the last person to see Clark before he disappeared…” She was almost pleading with Henderson to tell her he was joking.

Clark Kent was missing? Superman was the last person Clark spoke to before disappearing? Had he done something to Clark Kent? Had he threatened or… Superman swallowed as he pulled himself to his feet… killed that mild-mannered reporter out of jealousy? Was that why he had amnesia? Oh, God! He hoped not. He had to help that woman find her boyfriend, no matter the end results.

“He needs your help,” coaxed the detective.

Lois held up her hands. “No… No… No… We just started to clean up that mess. You know what Clark and I went through with all the rumors between us.” She flung her hand out towards Superman.

These words — despite being spoken in a hushed whisper — still punctured him. It was his fault? Had it been his attentions towards Lois that had ruined her reputation in the eyes of the tabloids? Of course it did! What had he done to this woman? She would never help him now. Not that he deserved it.

Superman could hear her heart beating a mile a minute. Her hands were shaking as she gestured to Henderson. “I can’t… What can I…? Where can I… ? No! Not without Clark. I can’t help him without Clark.” Her body was positively shaking now. Tears started pooling in those doe eyes as she turned and stared at Superman. What was the emotion that he saw in them? Pity? Sadness? Fear? A combination of all of the above. “I need Clark.”

“Ms. Lane? Lo-is,” Henderson said sternly. “He needs you.”

Lois was shaking her head. “I know. Don’t you think I want to help him?” she hissed. Superman watched as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “If Kal gets his memory back in two hours… I’ll have ruined everything by… No. Clark will kill me. Especially after…”

Who was Kal? Was he Kal? Superman wondered. Lois Lane did know him. He started walking across the squad room.

She grabbed Henderson’s lapels. “We’re married!” she pleaded. “I can’t!”

Superman stopped in his tracks. Lois Lane married Clark Kent? Had they gotten married to stop the rumors about Superman and Lois? Suddenly, it felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He wanted nothing more than to hold Lois in his arms and comfort her. But if she was married… to another man… and with all the rumors in the tabloids still swirling around the two of them. She was right. He needed to find Clark Kent… her husband.

Those words caused a sharp pain in his gut. They needed Clark’s buffer between them. He couldn’t be seen alone with Ms. Lane or it would be ruinous to more than her reputation. No one would want an adulterous hero. He nodded in determination. It was the least he could do after all he had done to this woman. He continued walking towards Lois and Henderson.

Lois stared at him with panic in her eyes, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry… Ka… Su… Superman. I’m so… sorry… I…”

Superman held out his hand. “Ms. Lane?”

She nodded vigorously. “Forgive me,” she whispered, before she hesitantly allowed him to take her hand.

The electricity that jolted through his body at her touch told him that his love for her was no delusion. Superman would do anything for this woman. Anything. Even it meant he would never be with her. Her happiness meant more to him than his own. “We’ll find your partner and bring him back to you,” he stated matter-of-factly, hating every word. “I promise.”

Lois pulled her eyes away from his and to their joined hands, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she sunk to the floor. Superman scooped her up into his arms. “She’s distraught about Clark,” he told Henderson as they walked through the squad room to the interrogation rooms.

Henderson sighed and mumbled under his breath. “You have no idea.”

***

Thursday — Mid-Afternoon

Superman sat quietly in Detective Henderson’s unmarked police car. He had so many questions buzzing around in his head, but he had no idea if the policeman would be able to answer any of them. He finally chose one.

“Am I really Charlie King, husband to Lola King?”

Henderson smirked. “Lola Dane, actually.”

Superman’s heart plummeted. He felt awful. “I am?”

The detective shook his head as a chuckle escaped. “Sorry, too tempting. No, Superman, your name is not really Charlie King. And your wife… and you don’t have a wife named Lola.” He sighed. “Linda King had it coming to her the way she kept throwing herself at you. Sometimes I just can’t resist knocking her down a peg or two. I apologize for the confusion. I forgot you could hear us. Obviously, you’re no impersonator.”

Superman exhaled, reassured that at least there wasn’t some woman out there pining away for him. Someone wondering where he was while he had been freely and easily tossing his heart to Lois Lane. He felt nothing for Linda King, except possibly nausea.

Lois Lane — on the other hand — was all he could think about. He felt almost embarrassed about the depth of his feelings for this woman to whom he had technically only spoken for a minute. He didn’t know if he would still love her as much as he did at this moment when his memories returned; he hoped not. She was another man’s wife. He still had no idea why that bespectacled nerd appealed to Lois much more than he, Superman, did.

“Why Clark Kent?” Oh, God, he had spoken his thoughts out loud. Again. Superman turned to look out the window, hoping Henderson hadn’t heard him. He really needed more self-control.

He saw Henderson glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “Because anyone you date might as well paint a giant target on themselves. Besides having her apartment trashed, burglarized, and bugged, Lois was also threatened by the Toasters and kidnapped by a psychopathic billionaire, who wanted her to reveal your secrets to him.”

Superman flinched. Yeah, that would kind of diminish his allure in any woman’s eyes. He now knew why she and Clark had rushed off… Had they rushed off? Maybe their engagement was one of long standing. Superman had no idea.

Then he realized that Superman would never be able to have a relationship with any woman. He was destined to be alone for the rest of his life. No wife. No children. No family. He would never chance putting them in danger. He would always be apart from the others on this planet. That thought saddened him.

Of course, Superman reminded himself that he would be pining away for Lois Lane for the rest of his life, so it didn’t matter anyway. He wondered why he had chosen to come to Earth in the first place. He sighed.

“Clark’s the rock in Lois’s life. He takes good care of her,” Henderson assured him.

“He wouldn’t hurt her, would he?” Superman asked softly.

“Not intentionally.”

“She said that Clark would kill her if she…” What? Rescued Superman from the police station? Claimed him like a lost puppy? Took him home? Oh, goodness, he wanted nothing more than for Lois to take him home with her. To be her lost puppy. He was pathetic.

Henderson chuckled. “Kill her with his annoyance maybe, but not with death.” He pulled the car over in front of a closed restaurant. MJ’s Café. “Here we are. MJ stands for Martha and Jonathan; those are Clark’s parents. They live in the apartment upstairs.”

A note on the door announced that the restaurant was closed due to a family emergency. Superman surmised the emergency to be Clark’s disappearance. They must love their son very much to close down their restaurant when he had been missing less than twenty-four hours.

Superman didn’t want to get out of the car. He wasn’t sure the type of reception he would get from these people after what he had done to their family. He decided on a delaying tactic instead. “How do you know Lois and Clark?”

“I was the officer who responded after Lois’s apartment was burglarized. You and I met when you brought me another burglar and told me that if I… or the police… ever needed you that I was to tell Clark Kent, because he knew how to contact you,” the detective explained.

Superman nodded. “That’s how you knew that Clark was my best friend?” It was more of a statement than a question. “How does he contact me?” he asked.

Henderson shrugged and then nodded to the restaurant. “Maybe the Kents know.”

“I guess I should go find out,” Superman mumbled to himself.

The policeman pointed to the door next to the café’s entrance. “You can buzz their apartment there.”

“You aren’t coming?” Superman inquired, pushing open the car door.

“Nah. You can handle it from here. I’ve got lots to do down at the station. Clark isn’t the only missing person in Metropolis right now,” Henderson told him.

“Thank you.” Superman nodded to him and climbed out. He shut the car door and raised his hand in a slight wave. After walking to the building, he pressed the buzzer next to the Kents’ name.

“Hello?” said a woman’s voice.

“It’s Superman,” he told her and the door clicked open for him. Superman glanced over his shoulder to Henderson, but the man had already driven off. He pushed open the door and walked up the stairs.

An older, petite, strawberry-blonde woman ran down the stairs and threw herself into his arms with a huge embrace. “We’ve been so worried,” she told him. Unlike the hug that Linda King had given him, this one was as far from uncomfortable as possible. It must have been the best hug in the history of hugs, because Superman was sure he had never felt so loved. No matter what else he might discover, he would always consider this woman his home.

***

Lois awoke on a couch in one of the interrogation rooms.

“Here,” said a portly policeman, handing her a donut. “Bill was worried you hadn’t eaten all day. Low blood sugar.” Then he handed her a cup of coffee. “Hope black is okay.”

“Fine,” she whispered and took the offered food.

Clark’s alive! Clark’s alive! Lois’s inner voice hadn’t stopped chanting that since she first spotted him across the crowded squad room.

“Where’s Superman?” she finally asked, after a few bites of donut and a sip of probably the worst coffee she had tried in her life. It tasted burnt. Her head was really throbbing. She couldn’t believe she had passed out. But Bill — did the policeman mean Henderson? — was right. She hadn’t eaten since the peanuts on the plane yesterday afternoon.

“You mean Charlie King? The Superman impersonator?” the policeman asked.

Superman impersonator? No, that had definitely been her husband. Lois may have been out of it, but she knew her husband. And her body had zinged at his touch; that couldn’t be faked.

Charlie King? Wasn’t that the name Henderson said Clark was using?

She took another bite of donut. “Yes, him.”

“Henderson offered to drive him to his parents.”

Lois nodded. If they were going to look for Clark, the Kents’ place was the best place to start. She couldn’t believe she had sent Clark on such a fool’s errand. She hoped he would forgive her for refusing to take responsibility for Superman at such a public locale. When Clark got his memory back, he would… maybe.

The Kents! You should warn them.

“Can I borrow your phone? I should check in with my in-laws and see if they’ve heard from Clark,” she asked to the policeman. “Thanks for the donut.”

He nodded. “Why don’t we give you a few moments to rest first?” he suggested. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

A good ten minutes later, the portly policeman returned and waved her out of the interrogation room. Lois grabbed what was left of the half-box of donuts to take with her.

“I’m sure Bill won’t mind if you borrow his telephone,” said the policeman, leading her to the visitor’s chair at an empty desk and handing over the phone. Lois told him the phone number to dial and it rang several times before someone picked it up.

“Hello?” Clark’s sultry voice said into her ear.

“Clark?” she gasped. “It’s Lois.”

“No, I’m sorry, Ms. Lane. It’s Superman, not Clark,” he replied.

Lois winced. Her husband’s mind was still missing, but at least his body was somewhere safe.

“I… uh… was just wondering if the Kents could stand a little company,” she mumbled through her excuse for calling. Even to her it sounded flimsy at best.

“I’ve just arrived here to interview the Kents about their son,” Superman told her.

“Your… his parents. How… how… That’s great!” Lois tried to push enthusiasm into her voice.

“I’m sure they’d love for you to come over, Ms. Lane. Shall I ask them?” Superman inquired.

“Oh. No. No… uh… I wouldn’t want to intrude at a… you know… a family time,” she said. Lois wanted nothing more than to be with Clark. But Clark wasn’t Clark. He was Superman. She didn’t know if she could be around him and pretend he wasn’t the man she loved with her entire being. She didn’t have enough self-control for that kind of act at the moment. She didn’t feel like going back to that time in her life, when she knew he was both but had to pretend otherwise.

“Family time? Are you sure, Ms. Lane? You are part of this family,” he reminded her.

“Oh, no. No. I have a lot to do. I’ll see you later,” she whispered, as she closed her eyes with a wince, her heart breaking with every lie she told Clark.

“Bye, Ms. Lane,” he replied aloofly before hanging up the phone.

“Bye,” she whispered to dead air. Superman had finally mastered the art of being detached around her, just at the moment she wanted nothing more than to be attached to him.

“Did they hear from your husband?” asked the portly policeman.

“Yeah,” Lois said with a nod. “He…” She swallowed. “He just got there. I should go.” She stood up and pointed over her shoulder. “He’ll probably need me to let him in at our apartment.”

“You okay to drive, Ms. Lane?” the policeman asked her, eyeing her warily.

She smiled weakly. “Yeah. Sure. I’m taking these, though, just in case,” she said, tucking the box of donuts under her arm. “Wouldn’t want me to cause any accidents.” Her joke fell flat, but at least he let her go on her own recognizance.

Where are you going? inquired her inner voice as Lois went down the stairs.

Home, she replied. She was exhausted. She hadn’t slept all night and was still wearing the clothes she had put on the day before. She could use a nap and shower.

Like that matters. Go to the Kents. Get your husband. Take him home.

Lois paused her step. Could she? Would he accept her? Would he want her after she had rejected him so soundly upstairs?

Who cares what he thinks? The man has amnesia. He doesn’t know what he wants. He’s probably very confused and scared and, being Superman, unwilling to admit it. Clark needs you, Lois, and you need him. But do whatever you want! As long as what you want is to be with your husband.

The man on the phone hadn’t known her though. Hadn’t wanted her. Hadn’t been Clark. Hadn’t been her husband.

And whose fault was that? Of course, he’s still your husband. If you can’t convince Superman that he’s your husband, then you’ll never be able to convince anyone of anything. You’ll have no right calling yourself a reporter.

Besides, Lois would have Clark’s parents to help her.

Are you going to let a little bump on his head stop you? In sickness and in health …

“For better or for worse…” she mumbled as her feet started down the steps again.

***

“Who was that?” Martha Kent called from the kitchen in the Kent’s small apartment. As they had walked into the apartment, the phone had rung and the timer had gone off. Mrs. Kent had asked Superman to answer the phone, so she could pull the brownies out of the oven.

He hadn’t known if Clark’s family would accept him. If Superman truly had been the cause of the rumors that Lois Lane was cheating on their son, so much so that Clark had felt impelled to marry his girlfriend all of sudden just to squash said rumors… Or at least that was why he thought Clark and Lois had gotten married. Wasn’t that what Ms. Lane had implied?

Jonathan Kent returned from the bathroom and patted him on the back as he sat down at the table.

“Lois Lane,” Superman told them matter-of-factly, who had been on the phone.

Or is she Lois Kent now? the hero wondered. Superman cringed. He had forgotten to ask Lois how she was feeling. He felt like a total heel. No wonder she had chosen Clark over him. No, she had been dating Clark before he even arrived, Henderson had told him. He was sure Superman had never been an option in her mind. His heart sunk lower into his stomach. He sat down at the dining table next to Mr. Kent.

Superman felt that he should be completely honest with the Kents about his current mental disability. Especially after that hug Mrs. Kent gave him when he came in, Superman knew he would never be able to lie to the woman. Anyway, didn’t Lois write that part of his credo was truth? And he would do anything to make Lois happy and if what Ms. Lane wanted was her husband…

“I don’t know if she’s more upset that Clark is missing or that my brain is on the fritz and it’s going to make it even more difficult to find him.” That sounded horrible. Of course, she would be more worried about her husband than Superman!

Mr. and Mrs. Kent exchanged a perplexed look as Martha Kent gave them each a glass of milk.

Mr. Kent informed Superman, “Clark isn’t missing.”

Superman was confused. “Sure he is. Ms. Lane told Detective Henderson that he never came home last night. She hasn’t heard from him. Didn’t she tell you?” Or was that why she called just now to warn them that he was on his way over to ask them about their son?

Standing behind him, Martha Kent set her hands on Superman’s shoulders as she looked over at her husband. “Jonathan, I don’t think he knows.”

Superman glanced between Clark’s parents. There was something else going on here. It was very possible he didn’t know. There was a lot at the moment he didn’t know. “Knows what?” he asked, taking a sip of his milk.

The Kents had him follow them into their bedroom. Martha Kent opened her closet and pulled a Superman suit with cape out of the back with an exasperated sigh. “I sewed them for you,” she told him, handing it over to him.

Superman walked over to the closet and saw that there were several more suits inside. “Why would you want Superman costumes?” he asked her.

Jonathan Kent stared at him. “Because our son Clark is Superman.”

“What?” Superman replied, baffled. That didn’t make any sense. He was Superman. Not Clark.

Jonathan nodded. Superman looked over at Martha. She nodded emphatically as well.

“That’s crazy,” Superman said, handing the suit back to Mrs. Kent. Oh! They meant he was also their son? “I may not be able to remember much, but everything I’ve heard about your son so far is…” Clark Kent was married to Lois Lane. Allowed to kiss her. Touch her. Make love to her. “Unreal,” he finished as his heart started to pound against his chest. He walked back into the living room. How could he be their son? “They say I’m not even from this planet,” he told them.

“Then what are all these costumes doing in there?” Martha Kent asked, following him.

“I… I don’t know,” Superman stammered. Was Mrs. Kent his seamstress? Or was it something more wicked. Superman thought Detective Henderson had answered all of his questions. Perhaps this was another practical joke? Like the one the policeman had played on Linda King? Why would the Kents play along? “Maybe you aren’t really Clark’s parents!” he shouted at them. “Maybe this is just some weird game that I don’t know the rules to… but… but…” He shook his head. “This certainly does not prove that I am your son Clark Kent.”

Mr. Kent squatted on the floor and reached under the bed.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Kent asked him.

“He needs proof,” he said, pulling a box from under the bed. From inside the box he pulled a navy blue blanket with a Superman crest on it. “When we found you as a baby, you were wrapped in this blanket.”

“What?” Superman said, reaching out and touching the blanket. It was soft and felt good against his skin. He shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ve got an idea, Jonathan. Go get that picture Lois gave us…” Martha Kent suggested, grabbing a pair of black-rimmed glasses off her dresser. She handed the glasses to Superman. “Mess up your hair and put these on.”

Superman rolled his eyes and did as she requested, just to prove to her that their theory was preposterous. If he was their son that would mean he was married to Lois Lane and he wouldn’t let himself even dream that. That would be…

“Ready, Jonathan?” Martha asked her husband. He nodded. Both of them held up their items at the same time. Martha held a mirror and Jonathan a wedding photo of Clark and Lois.

Except for the blue suit, Superman was the spitting image of Clark Kent. He pulled off the glasses and stumbled backwards to the couch in shock. “I’m Clark Kent?” He shook his head. “I’m married to Lois Lane? I can’t be married to her!” If he were married to Lois, then that meant that they… His eyes went wide. “There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake, son. Superman is really Clark Kent,” Jonathan told him, grabbing a chair and sitting in front of Superman.

“I may look like him but I don’t know how to be Clark Kent,” Superman said, looking up from his hands into Jonathan’s eyes.

“Martha,” Jonathan said to his wife with a hint of a smile and wink. “I think I know what’s going on here. Can you get us some brownies?”

Martha nodded and went into the kitchen.

Jonathan lowered his voice, handing Superman the wedding photo. “Son, does this doubt have something to do with Lois?”

Superman stared at the photo. Lois looked so beautiful and she was holding on to his arm. No, not his arm. Clark Kent’s arm. That man — that Clark Kent — seemed so happy. Of course, Clark was happy that the stunning woman next to him just pledged that she would love him forever. Would let him talk to her. Laugh with her. Kiss her. Touch her. Make love to her. Superman’s hands began to shake and he set down the photograph. “Ms. Lane married Clark and I’m not him. I’m… I don’t know who I am.”

“You are both Clark Kent and Superman. And you are our son,” Jonathan told him, softly. “And we love you.”

Superman gazed into Jonathan’s eyes. There was no humor there, just love. He had a family who loved him and a wife… “But I don’t have Clark’s memories and I don’t have Superman’s memories.” He closed his eyes with a wince. “If she was my wife, why didn’t she say so at the police station? Why did she kept blathering on about having to find Clark Kent if he was standing right in front of her?” Superman’s eyes flashed open. “She knows, right?”

Jonathan nodded.

“Then why?” Superman asked this man who claimed to be his father.

“I bet she was scared,” said Martha, entering the room with a plate of brownies.

“Why? Because she was married to an alien?” he asked, taking a brownie off the top of the stack and stuck it in his mouth. Heavenly.

Martha smiled reassuringly. “Of course not, sweetie. She was scared about revealing your secret identity.”

Oh. “When did they get married?” he asked.

“Last Friday in Niagara Falls,” said his father.

“Last Friday? A week ago?” Superman said falteringly, taking another brownie.

Mrs. Kent nodded.

O-K. He would set aside the information that Superman had had to deal with the Nightfall asteroid during what was essentially his honeymoon until later. He didn’t want to think about Lois and a honeymoon together in front of these people… any people, really. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. But he had to know if it were a real marriage, not just a faux marriage to get the tabloids off Lois’s back. He swallowed and lowered his voice, “And Lois and Clark… they’re friends, right?” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice and hoping it didn’t sound like he was gossiping about their son.

“Sure, you’re friends, son,” replied Clark’s father, confused.

“Are they… more than friends?” he asked, hoping he was getting his meaning across to Clark’s parents without having to be explicit.

“More than…?” Clark’s mother gaped at him.

“You’ll be partners at the new Daily Planet. You’ll work closely together,” explained Mr. Kent, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist.

“How close?” Superman asked warily.

“Close,” replied Mr. Kent.

“Close, close,” Mrs. Kent said with a nod.

“Did Lois and Clark…” Superman pressed his lips together. This question would have to be asked directly as his previous ones seemed too vague. “Consummate this marriage?”

Martha laughed a full belly chortle, finally understanding. “Most certainly. She could hardly keep her hands off you before you were married.”

Superman gulped, taking another brownie. The deep, rich flavor was really soothing. “She married Clark for love?” he finally asked, a part of him thrilled and a part of him in disbelief. Dismayed, because he still couldn’t believe that Lois loved Clark. And he was Clark! Lois Lane loved him? He was getting dizzy from this revelation and its natural consequences.

Martha’s reassuring smile broadened into a grin. “Oh, yeah.”

He looked between the large grins these people who claimed to be his folks displayed.

Jonathan nodded to his wife again and she returned to the kitchen. “What’s really bothering you, son?”

“Is she expecting me to return?” He zipped over the table and swallowed his milk in one sip, before returning to the couch two seconds later. He took another brownie. “Am I supposed to live with Lois Lane?”

“She is your wife, son.”

“I can’t go to her,” he whispered to Jonathan Kent as he started to wring his hands. “I feel more comfortable as the hero than the man and she’s going to expect… well… her husband… not me.” He wasn’t explaining this well.

“Are you afraid that she’s going to expect you to share her bed? To make love to her?”

“Can I stay with you until my memories return?” Superman asked hopefully.

Jonathan raised a curious eyebrow. “Don’t you want to sleep with your wife?”

He wasn’t describing his reasoning well at all, Superman realized. “I woke up in a hole in the ground this morning to someone calling me Superman. All day I was secure in the knowledge of who I am, just without my past… my memories. I spent all day researching myself, Superman me, with this nagging feeling — a hope really — that there was more to me than that hero everyone kept talking about… Then I learned that Lois Lane was Superman’s girlfriend and I was ecstatic. Finally, there was someone with whom I had shared my secrets. Who would know about me. And then when I saw that first photo of us, just standing and talking, I… I know this will sound crazy, but I sort of fell in love with her.” He looked down. “There was something about her that I… she…”

Mr. Kent smiled. “It’s plain that the memories are gone but the love is still there.”

“But I don’t know her! How can you expect me to…” Superman brought his eyes up to Jonathan Kent’s.

“There is more to a marriage than sharing a bed, Clark,” Mr. Kent told him.

Superman swallowed. Clark? That was the thing. He wasn’t Clark. She fell in love with Clark, not this superhero. What would Lois do, when she saw Superman dressed up like Clark? Would she think that her husband had returned from the dead? And he hadn’t. He had only been replaced by someone else. Would she kick him out? Would she ask him to stay? Would she want to make love to him? Maybe. Probably not.

Even if he looked like Clark, without Clark’s memories Superman wasn’t Clark. He couldn’t play make-believe with the woman of his dreams. Well, he could, but he shouldn’t. Did he want to make love to Lois?

Stupidest inquiry in the history of questions! Of course! Just thinking about the possibility of seeing her again was making his hands shake. But as her husband — especially a new husband — would she expect more than just him looking at her, right? She would expect some touching. A kiss perhaps? Hand holding? Caress of her cheek? And if she wanted to make love with him…?

She was fresh off her honeymoon, maybe she was sated already. Of course, Lois had thought he had died, so maybe she would want more from him. What would he do if the most beautiful woman he had ever seen asked him to make love to her? He had told himself earlier that he would do anything to make Lois happy… but… but could he make love to her while pretending that he was the man whom she loved? That just seemed sneaky, somehow. Underhanded. Creepy.

And, yet, tempting. Oh, so tempting. He was the worst man ever to even consider doing such a thing to Lois. Would he have the willpower to say ‘no’? Superman buried his head in his hands.

“And how would that look? If a young man fresh off his honeymoon returns to his parents’ apartment instead of moving in with his wife?” Martha Kent had returned and sat down next to him.

“I don’t care how it looks,” Superman told them. “It isn’t fair for Lois to share her home, her life…” Her bed. “… with a stranger.”

“Isn’t fair to her or to you?” Martha Kent raised a curious eyebrow at him. “You aren’t a stranger to her. For better or worse, you are her husband,” she said, patting his knee. “Anyway, Lois’s sister Lucy is staying in your old room right now, so you can’t stay here. And if she moves back in with your wife, the tabloid reporters stalking Lois are surely to notice.”

Superman’s jaw dropped. Once again he would be guilty of spreading lies in the tabloids about her. There was no winning. He only wanted what was best for Lois and there seemed to be no right answer.

Jonathan stood up. “That reminds me, son. Superman can’t go to Lois’s apartment without garnering attention, so we’ll have to get you changed.”

Martha stood up as well. “I’ve been packing your stuff into your father’s old army duffel bag for the move.” She picked up the empty brownie plate.

“Oh, sorry, Mrs. Kent. I seemed to have eaten up all of your brownies. They were delicious.” Superman blushed. He would be needing some extra large tights if he kept pigging out like that.

Martha glanced back at him. “Feel free to call me ‘Mom,’ Clark. And I’ll fix you up another plate to take home to Lois.” She smiled at him with a wink. “She’s a bit of a chocoholic herself.”

Superman ran a hand down his face. What could he do to delay his inevitable meeting with Clark’s wife? “Would you mind if I borrowed your shower and a razor?” he asked Mr. Kent.

Jonathan chuckled, holding out his arm. “A razor isn’t going to cut it, son. Come on, I’ll show you how you shave.”

Superman nodded. These people were too wonderful for words. Clark was one lucky man.

***

Thursday — Late Afternoon

Jonathan pulled up the truck in front of an apartment building and looked up at the number. “I think this is it, son. Does it look familiar?”

Martha had called Lucy at work for the address because Lois hadn’t answered the phone when they had tried her number, and neither of the Kents had ever been to Lois’s apartment.

Superman shook his head. As far as he knew, he had never been here before. “No, sir.”

He had gotten into the habit of calling Mr. Kent ‘sir,’ which seemed more comfortable for him than ‘Dad.’ Although he was dressed for the part, he still felt more like Superman than Clark Kent.

He looked up at the front stoop, hesitant on this next step on finding out about his life. “Do you think Ms. Lane will be at home?”

“A couple of things, son,” Mr. Kent told him, handing him the keys Clark had left when he went to battle Nightfall the first time. This had all been explained to him back at the Kents’ apartment. “You call your wife ‘Lois’, not ‘Ms. Lane’.”

Superman nodded. Right. His wife. Lois. He swallowed. He was both excited and terrified all at the same time.

“Just because she has all the memories doesn’t give her more power in your relationship. And having all the strength doesn’t give it to you either. Just talk to Lois about anything that makes you uncomfortable, Clark,” his ‘father’ reminded him. “Communication is the key to any good marriage.”

Superman nodded again.

“And, son…” Mr. Kent touched Superman’s arm gently for a moment. “If you ever feel that this isn’t working, give me a call, and I’ll come and get you.”

Superman turned and looked up at the front stoop again; this time with a sigh. He would make this work. If he failed with Lois… “Thank you, sir, for all your assistance this afternoon.”

Mr. Kent pressed a little smile onto his face and nodded. “Anytime, son,” he choked out. “Go on.”

Superman opened the door to the truck and grabbed the olive green duffel and a small picnic basket out of the back of the truck. Mom had made them dinner, figuring they had enough on their plate without having to worry about cooking as well. Calling Martha Kent ‘Mom’ had felt right, natural.

He nodded towards Mr. Kent again and then went up the front stoop. Setting down the duffel, he pulled out his keys. He tried two keys before he found the right one and got the door open. He turned and waved at Mr. Kent, who had been waiting as Superman somehow knew he would be. Clark Kent — AKA Superman — picked up the duffel and went inside.

‘Through the main building, out past the pool to the back building,’ Lucy had told his mother. He swung the duffel bag over his right shoulder and carried the picnic basket with his left. He was lucky that Lucy had given such good directions. This would be a bad time to get lost.

As he passed into a courtyard, a thin, silver haired man accosted him. “Clark Kent, isn’t it?”

Superman raised a brow at the man and slowed his pace. “Do I know you?” he asked warily, hoping he did not.

“We haven’t been formally introduced,” the man said, extending his hand. “Leo Nunk, National Inquisitor.”

Superman’s eyes turned into slits as he remembered the negative publicity garnered from that man’s ‘newspaper.’ “You’re the man who’s been harassing Lois.”

“Harassing seems like such a strong term…” Leo tried to correct him as Superman continued towards the basement apartment in the back building. “Mr. Kent, please. Just one quote. That’s all I’m asking. One reporter to another. We all have deadlines.”

Superman stopped and stared at the man. “Do you live in this building?” He shook his head to clarify. “This complex?” At Leo Nunk’s slightly embarrassed grin, he continued, “How did you get in here?”

“We all have to protect our sources,” Nunk told him.

“If I see you in this courtyard again or hear that you’ve been bothering my wife, I’ll have a restraining order placed against you,” Superman told him.

Nunk’s eyes lit up. “Wife? You and Lois got married!” The slime practically did a little dance and he skipped backward to keep up with Superman. “When? Where? Was Superman there? What was Lois like on …”

“Stay away from my wife!” Superman growled. With one slight nudge with the heel of his hand, Nunk went flying into the swimming pool with a huge splash. Oh, dear. Superman hoped he hadn’t exerted any of his extra strength to swat that fly. He watched as Nunk splashed around in the pool for a moment, glaring at him.

“Clark!” a beautiful feminine voice called to him, gleefully. Suddenly, a pair of arms surrounded his neck and a pair of lips covered his as she jumped into his full arms. “Oh, Clark.”

Superman’s felt his nerve endings explode with joyous fireworks at this barrage of kisses. With his free hand, he surrounded the waist of this beautiful woman who attacked him and then slid it down her curves to under her bottom to hold her better. He felt like he could kiss her forever.

An image of making love to this woman in a cave flashed across his mind, causing his body to respond more vibrantly to her stimuli. He carried her inside their apartment, their lips never parting.

***

Thursday — Afternoon

Lois returned from the police station to her empty apartment. Okay, technically, it wasn’t empty. It just felt that way without Clark. And she hadn’t returned straight from the police station. She sighed as she dropped her keys and purse on the coffee table. She tossed the box of donuts on the dining table and limped over to sit on the couch. Oh, right, probably not a good idea.

She had gotten lost. Again. Lois hadn’t driven much in Metropolis since Lucy brought the Jeep Cherokee to her a week and a half ago. For some strange reason, the streets looked different from the street than the sidewalk. And she hadn’t gotten all that familiar with this part of the city when she went to Met U. freshman and sophomore year. Anyway, that was years ago — years before she had moved back this summer.

So, she had ended up getting lost on the way to the Twelfth Precinct and then she had gotten lost again on the way to MJ’s Café. She had known where her husband was and like a magnet she had headed to him. And also — probably having something to do with their magnetism — her compass was all off.

Correction. It hadn’t been her fault that she had gotten lost. She laid the blame squarely at the feet of one Leo Nunk, tabloid reporter. He had run into her — literally — outside the Twelfth Precinct, which was probably her fault. She had been the one who told Nunk that Superman had friends at the Twelfth Precinct and that he should stalk Superman there instead of at her place. Nunk had missed Clark and Henderson leaving twenty minutes before, but — lucky her — Nunk had found Lois instead. Thank goodness for little miracles.

And Nunk had stuck to her like glue. She was thrilled to have her Jeep Cherokee. She had jumped into it, threw her half-box of donuts she had stolen from the police into the co-pilot’s seat, stuffed the parking ticket into the glove box, and driven off in the direction of MJ’s Café. Then she had spotted Nunk jumping into a Metro cab and she had practically heard him use the words “Follow that car!”

She had made a series of quick turns to try and shake the Metro cabbie. But he must have been a former Indy 500 racer or something because he had stuck to her tail like a… well, like paparazzi. When she had finally shaken him, she had no idea where she was. She had driven on looking for a familiar street or building or anything. Eventually, she had found what she was looking for. Edge Boulevard cut Metropolis in half; it went from one end of Metropolis to the other. It was the biggest, most familiar street in the entire city.

And Lois had driven on it for a half-hour in the wrong direction. A half-hour in non-moving traffic in the wrong direction. A half-hour of her honking her horn with the other drivers. A half-hour of her wishing she had been traveling in the other direction, where there was no traffic. In the wrong direction! Then she had spent another half-hour, it had felt like, trying to turn off of Edge Boulevard, so she could turn in the correct direction and finally meet up with her husband at his parents’ apartment.

She had spent that second half-hour of sitting in traffic thinking about what an idiot she had been. Lois still couldn’t believe her meltdown at the Twelfth Precinct.

You’ll be lucky if Clark ever talks to you again. Rejecting him like that, her inner voice had scolded her.

Lois had had her husband in her grasp and she had let him slip through her fingers. The first test in their marriage and she had failed miserably. Who cared about what the tabloids wrote anyway!? She had wanted her man back from the dead and she had been granted her wish, only to send him packing to his mom and dad.

Eventually, she had made it off Edge Boulevard, only to get herself lost again. She had ended up on a street that had looked more like a warzone than Metropolis. The potholes had been so big, she wondered if they were really sinkholes. She could just hear Perry saying, “That sounds like a story!” It had been in one of those potholes that she popped a tire. Luckily for Lois, Lucy had made sure that there actually was a viable spare tire in her car.

So, there Lois had been changing her tire, on that broken street in Metropolis’s warzone…

… with one foot in a mud puddle, you might recall…

… when some meathead decided that she looked ripe for the picking. Boy, had he picked the wrong victim. After the day she had had, Lois could have brought down… well, her husband in a fist fight. That creep was also lucky Clark wasn’t at one hundred percent, because if she had called her husband’s name and Clark had seen that man attacking her…

Shall we just say, it wouldn’t have been pretty?

Needless to say, Lois had been really glad she had taken that self-defense course at the women’s center in Smallville last year. And the year before. She really needed to find a new hobby.

After Lois had convinced the thug that he had tangled with the wrong woman, that was when she had slipped on the edge of one of those potholes and landed with a splash into the mud puddle. So, now she was covered with muddy water and had knocked the heel off one of her shoes.

Another half-hour later, she had finally found a familiar landmark and made it back to her apartment. She couldn’t show up at the Kent’s looking like this. Well, she could, but that familiar landmark had been closer to her apartment than the café.

With a sigh, Lois turned away from the couch and limped over to her desk. She needed to call Perry to tell him that Superman was back from the dead.

“Ready to write it up?” he asked.

“We can’t write it up, Perry,” Lois told him with a groan.

She could hear her boss’s teeth grind together. “What now?”

“He has amnesia and can’t remember anything,” she murmured with another sigh.

“Great shades of Elvis! Don’t you ever get a break?”

Apparently not.

“Let me talk to him, honey,” Perry continued.

“He’s not here. He went home,” Lois told him.

Perry didn’t say anything for a moment. “Lois, aren’t you two married?”

“Yes.”

“Then home should be with you.”

Lois’s bottom lip began to shake. She would not cry — not to Perry. Not again. “I know. He doesn’t though.”

“Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry. You want to come in and I’ll assign you something else?” Perry asked hopefully. “To keep your mind off things?”

Lois groaned. The very last thing she wanted to do was get back into her car. “Truthfully, Perry, I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. I’m so tired, I actually passed out at the police station earlier when I ran into Clark.”

“The police station?”

“That detective… Henderson found him. He’s been telling everyone that Clark’s a Superman impersonator to protect his identity.” Lois lay her head down on her desk. “Linda King actually kissed him to test that theory. And she proclaimed him to be a bona fide imposter.”

“Metropolis Star!” said her boss. Lois could practically hear Perry rolling his eyes and shaking his head at their rival paper. “Wait a minute, honey? He was there… at the police station… in the suit? Superman has amnesia?” She had been wondering when those dots would get connected.

“Uh-huh. Perry, please…” Lois squeezed her eyes shut, holding her tears at bay.

“Got it. Off the record,” her boss said with a hitch in his voice that sounded like a broken record. Here he was finally editing a daily newspaper and the biggest story of the century practically fell into his lap as one of his reporters. Yet, once again, there was more he couldn’t write about the story than what he could write. “I don’t want the Daily Planet to start sounding like the Dirt Digger anyway.”

“Thank you. I’ll definitely be in on Monday, rain or shine, Perry. Let me just have the weekend to convince Clark who he really is. Please.” Lois hoped she would even be allowed to see her husband. She couldn’t see the Kents being happy with her behavior at the police station, once Clark told them about it. “As soon as we can get it, you’ll have the exclusive.”

“Probably best not to leave him unattended. Good luck, honey,” he told her.

“Thank you, Perry,” she replied. “And I’m sorry. About earlier…”

“Don’t worry about it. You needed time and space and I wasn’t giving it to you. Go! Be with your husband,” Perry said, hanging up.

Lois sighed and hung up the phone. All she had the energy to do was crawl into bed, but she smelled and looked like a Metropolis pothole and had a husband to retrieve. She looked at her futon couch with an exasperated sigh. It was hardly bedtime, not even late enough to be counted as dinnertime, but she hadn’t slept all night in worry over Clark.

Or the night before that because Clark kept you up in other ways.

Instead Lois went into the bathroom and peeled off her clothes for a long hot, and hopefully, reinvigorating shower. Closing her eyes, she could almost picture herself in the shower at the Lexor. She ran the bar of soap over her body, lathering herself up. Her body craved for his touch. Lois rubbed more soap on her hands and continued to wash herself.

She pictured showering with Clark the previous morning before checking out of the hotel. How his hands had caressed her body as they had moved down to her bottom and picked her up. Her legs had snaked around him, unable to wait any longer.

Lois leaned against the wall of her shower and sobbed, missing Clark with every fiber of her being. Her body remained stiff from tension. She had been tied in a knot for the past twenty-four hours and, try as she might, she could not untie herself. Eventually the water became cold and, instead of turning up the hot water as her body demanded, she turned it off. She had things to do.

Lois toweled herself dry and slipped into big fluffy robe. She needed to call Martha and find out how Clark was doing. Let her mother-in-law know that Lois hadn’t abandoned her husband.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Martha. It’s Lois.”

“Lois! Where have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you. Clark…” Martha started before Lois interrupted her.

“Yes, I know. Clark’s safe at your place. I tried to drive over there, after bumping into him at the police station, but…” She exhaled. “I got lost. There was a tabloid reporter following me and I got off my known routes and…”

“Are you okay?” Martha interjected.

Lois smiled. Martha wasn’t angry. Thank God! “Yes. I’m sorry, Martha. But I had to come home to change. Could you explain to Clark that I still love him and that I’ll be on my way …?”

“Lois, he and Jonathan just left,” Martha told her.

“Left? Left for where? Is Clark hurt?” Lois asked, grabbing her car keys.

“He’s fine, dear. They’re on their way there. Jonathan is bringing Clark home to you.”

Lois’s heart pounded against her chest as she dropped her keys again. Her hands started to shake. Clark was on his way there? He was coming home?

Yippee! Best news of the day!

“Thanks, Martha,” Lois choked out, tears dotting her eyes. “You and Jonathan are the best. I’ll take good care of him. Don’t you worry.” She heard something outside. “Gotta go, Martha. I think they’re here.”

Lois dropped the phone and ran to the door; she opened it far enough to see Leo Nunk harassing some woman crossing the courtyard. No! She closed the door with a grimace.

Not Nunk! That good for nothing…

Clark was on his way home, Lois reminded herself. She didn’t have to get dressed again for the day, so she slipped into her lavender and teal pajamas. With a shiver she grabbed her comforter out of her closet and plopped herself down on her couch to wait. Clark would buzz her apartment when they arrived. She would protect him from Nunk then. Clark would be there any minute.

Lois wrapped herself in her comforter and waited. And waited. Her eyes began to droop.

The door to the apartment flew open and Superman hovered just outside.

“Lois!” he called to her. “I’m home.”

“Clark!” She sprung to her feet and was in his arms. “Oh, Clark!”

His gentle hand caressed her hair as he corrected her. “It’s Kal, honey. Just Kal. Clark is no more.”

“No!” she screamed, letting go of him and running back inside.

“No?” He landed in front of her, his arms crossed, and his eyebrow raised. “So, did you give your wedding vows just to my Clark side? For better or worse, for example. Am I worse?”

Lois continued to stare at him, not sure what to say. She loved Clark — she knew that. Heart and soul. But this man in blue? Did she really even know him? ‘Do you?’ she wondered. ‘Do you know Kal at all?’ She knew about his abilities, true, but did she know the man? Was this Kal-El part of him so different from the Clark side with whom she had fallen in love? Would she — could she — reject him if he was only this man? From now onwards? Was he even a bunch of parts that made up a whole man? Or was he a multifaceted man?

No. She realized. He was still Clark. Clark was still there — somewhere — he was just lost.

Lois held out her hands to the man still floating in front of her with a stern expression. “I love you, Kal. All of you.”

Superman’s face lit with a hint of hope. “Are you sure?”

“I was surprised, that’s all,” she explained to him. “For better or worse. In sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

He set himself down in front of her and cupped her jaw in his palm, running his thumb over her lips. “Death will never part us, Lois. I won’t let it.”

Lois relaxed into his hand. “I thought you had died, Kal. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m indestructible, Baby,” he whispered, pulling her into his embrace.

Baby? “But a nuclear bomb blew you up!” she said, tightening her arms around him.

Superman chuckled lightly as if humoring her. “I’ll always come back to you, Lois.” He tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. Fire engulfed her from inside.

“Clark,” Lois moaned, opening her mouth to him.

Superman pulled back so suddenly she felt a cold draft. “No, Lois. Look at me.”

Lois opened her eyes. She felt bereft at the loss of his lips. What was wrong?

“Do you want me?” he asked.

She nodded, dumbly. Wasn’t it obvious? Couldn’t he sense her desire? Pathetic that it was.

“There is no more Clark. You call me Kal or Superman… or I’m gone. Do you understand?”

No more Clark? Her heart ached at that thought. But she craved this man. She needed him to love her. To make love to her. She nodded.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked softly as he kissed her again.

“Make love to me,” she whispered. She groaned with anticipation as his hands found her skin of her stomach, causing a flock of butterflies to escape.

“Say my name,” he demanded, running his hands over her.

“Kal,” she pleaded. “I want you, Kal.” She tried to put her hands under the band of his shorts, but it was too tight. “Kal?”

“New belt.” With a flick of his wrist, he unsnapped his yellow belt and then continued removing her clothing.

Lois stepped out of her shorts. “You wear too many layers,” she teased, resting her hands on his shorts again.

“First this,” he murmured and moved her hands up to his cape.

She was naked now and he was definitely too clothed. She unsnapped the cape from where it attached to his blue suit and was about to drop it on the floor.

“Hang it up. Respect me. Respect my uniform,” he told her.

Lois nodded dumbly. She didn’t like how he was bossing her around, but she needed him. She needed her Clar… Kal fix. She wrapped the cape around her neck and tied it there. “All hung up.”

Kal stood there in just his blue suit and red boots and stared at her with a hunger that made her body shiver. Or maybe it was because he had taken a step back away from her. Five seconds later, they were making love. Oh, God! That was fast. What was going on here? Was all the romance part of the Clark side? Was the Kal side just need, just desire, no love?

But her thoughts fell away as the pleasure increased. She was there… so close to being there. “Clark,” she moaned. “Oh, Clark, yes!”

When Lois went to wrap herself tighter around him, she discovered he was gone. She had nothing to hold onto but a draft of cool air. The cape was missing from around her shoulders. She heard the door open and shut. Clark was gone. Kal-El was gone. Lois was alone on her futon couch. Naked and uncomfortable and unsatisfied. Her body still craving the man who had just left her forever.

***

“Stay away from my wife!”

SPLASH!

Lois’s eyes flew open. “Clark!” She jumped off her couch, ran to her door, and pulled it open.

Clark stood next to the pool, glaring at it.

“Clark!” Lois couldn’t believe her eyes. It was really him. Glasses. No slicked-back hair. Slacks. Button-down shirt. She jumped into his arms and pressed her lips to his. “Oh, Clark!”

The real man was better than any dream. And this real man was kissing her back. He wasn’t angry about the police station. He wasn’t mad at her for refusing to take responsibility of a superhero with no memories. Her husband was back, and he loved her.

Clark carried her into her apartment… their apartment and shut the door. He set down his duffel bag and the basket. He hadn’t stopped kissing her. She wanted him. She needed him. Desired him more than she ever had. And she could tell he desired her as well.

A little bit.

Actually, after all they had been through, he should desire her more than this. So, the only explanations could be was that this wasn’t Clark or this was Clark and something else was coming between them. Something like… Lois broke off the kiss and leaned back to study her husband… something like the blue suit.

Why was Clark still wearing the blue suit? Hadn’t he known he was coming straight to her and she would want …? Lois continued to stare at him. Something was off… wrong.

She could feel his desire disappearing as the color drained from her face. He was wearing the black frames. The old black glasses, not the new frames they had bought in Niagara.

Lois swallowed. “Hi,” she said simply.

“Hi,” he said, just as simply.

Lois sighed and stuck out her hand. “I’m Lois, your wife.”

***

Something was wrong. Superman didn’t know what he did wrong, but Lois stopped kissing him and just stared at him. It wasn’t an angry stare. She wasn’t mad. It was a curious, inquisitive stare like she knew he wasn’t her husband, knew he wasn’t Clark, but didn’t know how she knew she knew.

It had been wrong to impersonate her husband. Superman knew this. So very wrong on too many levels. But when the Kents kept trying to convince him that he was also Clark and that he had to go ‘home’ to his wife — back to Lois, the rational side of himself had turned off and the irrational side — that wanted more than anything to make Lois happy — turned on.

For a moment there, he had thought it had worked. He had thought they would come through this door and she would want to make love to him. It wouldn’t matter to her that he wasn’t really her husband, because she loved him and she knew that he loved her. He thought he had convinced her that they were one and the same person. But he should have known better. If he didn’t believe it, how could she? He should have known she didn’t want this carbon copy of her husband; she wanted the real thing.

As Superman observed the color drain from her face with whatever clue it was she found, it was like she jabbed him into the deep freeze. He didn’t know if the pain he felt was from her realization that he — of all people — had lied to her or because it felt like she had poured liquid nitrogen onto his pants.

He watched her neck move as she swallowed. It was as if he were watching it in slow motion. And like a ripple in a pond as soon as she finished swallowing, he swallowed.

“Hi.”

It was a simple greeting. He felt no animosity or malice. No indication of her emotional state, so he echoed her word back to her. “Hi.”

Lois stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Lois, your wife.”

Yep. She knew he wasn’t Clark. On the other hand, she still considered herself his wife. His heart started beating again as if she had jumpstarted his heart with a defibrillator. He needed to answer. What should he say? The truth! Of course, you’re Superman! He stood for “truth” and “justice”, and that really should start with the woman he loved, his wife.

There was another quick jolt in his heart at the thought of the words “your wife.” A part of him had hoped Lois hadn’t noticed his physical reaction to her words. He didn’t want to explain to this woman about his love and desire for her.

Right, answer. He needed to say something, but it was really hard to concentrate with her legs wrapped around his hips. He had thought the extra layer of the suit would be enough of a buffer between them, but if she squeezed her legs one more time, he was liable to tear off her clothes and make love to her on the couch within the minute.

Actually, that option was sounding more tempting by the moment. That wouldn’t be making love though, ravishing would probably be a more accurate term. And he couldn’t do that to Lois. Well… he shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Superman cleared his throat, knowing he still needed to answer her. He removed his glasses, setting them down, and then took hold of her offered hand. “Lois, I’m Superman.”

A huge grin overtook her countenance. Then she did something he least expected. She leaned her head back and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Superman released the hold that he had of her bottom and let her feet drop to the floor. He really couldn’t have her so close at the same time as she laughed at him.

Lois held up her palm as if to tell him to stop as she gained control of her voice again. “I’m not laughing at you, Kal. It’s only…” She took a deep breath to try and stop the giggles from overtaking her again. “It was the first time you’ve ever said those words to me. It took a giant meteor hurtling towards Earth and you getting your mind wiped for you to finally admit that to me.”

He froze, his eyes bugging. She hadn’t known? The Kents were sure that she knew. Clark married her without telling her that…

Lois leaned and kissed his lips gently, leaving her hand on his chest. “I’ve always known, Kal,” she informed him and he exhaled. “But it’s good to finally hear you divulge it.”

“Who’s Kal?” he asked the question that had been burning at the forefront of his mind since she had first called him that at the police station.

“You are. Kal-El is the name your birth parents — Lara and Jor-El of Krypton — gave you before sending you to Earth.” She spelt his name for him.

“Kal-El,” he repeated back to her, bliss filling him. He did have a name other than Superman. Kal-El. He wrapped his arms around Lois and kissed her. His happiness was so great, he needed to share it with someone. He liked that Lois knew this about him and even felt comfortable enough with him to call him ‘Kal.’

Superman — Kal — stiffened as she deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her tongue asked permission to enter his mouth. He really shouldn’t allow those kinds of liberties between himself and Clark’s wife. It had been wrong for him to want them before. It wasn’t fair to Lois for Kal-El to expect the same kind of benefits that Clark had enjoyed as her husband. No matter how tempting they might be.

Carefully, he set his hands on her shoulders and drew his lips away. “No, Lois. Sorry. This isn’t right. I am essentially a stranger to you.”

Lois nodded slowly. He didn’t know if she was being hesitant in agreeing with him or if the ramifications of his words were dripping into her understanding.

Some of the tension he had sensed in her since their handshake seemed to melt from her body. Was it relief in the knowledge that intimacy was off the table for them or something else?

Lois moved to her bookshelf and picked up the glass fish that he recognized from the photo in the Daily Planet. “Does this look familiar?” she asked him, holding it up.

Kal took the fish and glanced at it, felt the weight of it in his hand, knew instinctively that he should recognize it, but he did not. “I’m sorry. No.”

She placed the fish back on the bookshelf and then she went the dining room table. “I left you some donuts.” She opened the box on the table and pulled one out. “You usually like these cake things. Eh, this is a little stale. Are you hungry?”

Kal followed her to the table and took the donut out of her hand, gazing at it. He liked these kind of donuts? “I can’t remember much of anything,” he told her. Not even the type of donut he liked. “I’m not hungry. I’m fine. Martha fed me brownies.” He handed the donut back to her.

Lois dropped the donut back into the box and dusted off her hands. “Oh.”

Kal retrieved the picnic basket from by the front door. “She made us dinner.”

Her eyes lit up with joy. “I love Martha.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. He was in total agreement there. “Me, too.”

He followed her into the kitchen.

“We should probably put the food away until then,” Lois said, turning and taking the basket away from him.

“Are you hungry?” Kal asked. Bill had said something about guessing that Lois had passed out at the police station due to lack of food and stress over Clark being missing.

“Kind of. I’ve only eaten donuts and a few peanuts since I left Niagara,” Lois admitted, opening the basket. She removed a plate of brownies. “Did I mention how much I love your mom?” Then she pulled out some sort of casserole and set it on the stove.

Kal sighed. He wasn’t Clark. He didn’t feel like Clark. Martha wasn’t technically his mom. He should really say something to Lois about that.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“I was just wondering how we met?” he said, which wasn’t exactly the reason he had been gazing at her like he had.

Lois was looking at a note from Martha that had come with the casserole, explaining how to reheat it. “Huh?”

“How did you and I meet?” he repeated.

She folded the note again and dropped it back into the basket. “Do you mind if I reheat this now? Just the thought of tortellini in tomato sauce is making me hungry.”

Kal shrugged. She turned on the oven. He watched as she bent over and removed shoes from inside of it. She kept shoes in her oven? Then she set the casserole dish straight into the oven and turned on the timer.

When she had finished, Lois faced him. “You — Kal — and I? Or Clark and I?”

He swallowed. She wasn’t budging on the assumption that he was her husband Clark.

Lois rested a hand gently on his arm. “I’ve got an idea. How about I only talk about you and me for the time being? Superman — Kal — you.”

Kal breathed a sigh of relief.

“That way,” she continued. “You won’t be confusing any of my Clark stories as memories.” Lois kissed his cheek. “When those memories start coming back, I want you to know that they’re real. No confusion. Is that okay?”

Kal’s cheek tingled where she kissed him and that combined with the warmth of her hand still resting on his arm had made his clothing feel smaller. Maybe Clark never wore the blue suit under his clothes. Yes, that must be it, he lied to himself. What he really should suggest was that they sleep apart, especially if just casual touches gave him such a strong reaction. He cleared his throat. “Fine by me.”

Lois took two plastic cups out of the cabinet and opened the fridge, sneered, and then closed it again. “Water, okay? Lucy — my sister — cleared me out of cream soda and, well, everything else worth drinking.” She indicated that he should sit down at the dining table and she brought two cups of water to the table. “It’s from the tap. Maybe you should sterilize the water with your heat vision first.”

Kal raised a brow but then did as she asked. He thought “heat” as he looked at her cup and promptly melted it. He gazed at the mess and jumped back. What had he done?

Lois grabbed a dishtowel and started mopping up the remaining water. “I’m sorry, Kal.” She laughed. “That was just a joke.”

“I didn’t know,” he replied calmly, but inside he was mortified. What must she think of him? After she finished mopping up the water, he sat back down and passed her his glass. “Take mine.”

She threw the towel into the kitchen sink and set her hand on his, giving it a little squeeze. “It’s okay. I have more.” A minute later she sat down opposite him with a new cup.

He loved her more at that moment than he had all day. She had taken his “accident” in stride and moved on. No harm, no foul.

Lois rested her hand on his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Kal could feel the electricity travel from her hand to his, up his arm, and straight into his heart, causing it to increase its rhythm and spread that electricity all over his body.

“About five… maybe six weeks ago, I went on a date with a real creep by the name of Claude,” Lois said.

Kal didn’t have any idea to what this story referred, but he did learn one very important thing from this sentence. Six weeks ago — five weeks before she married Clark — Lois and Clark either weren’t dating or weren’t serious enough to be exclusive or had broken up for some reason. He wondered what had changed.

“Claude took me to a fancy restaurant… a very expensive restaurant. I was thrilled because I had hardly two pennies to rub together until I got my first paycheck from Daily Books. That’s where Claude and I worked. He was fired a week later — but that’s another story.” She smiled.

Kal had no idea what the smile was for, but he readily accepted it and returned it with one of his own. Was she happy that Claude was fired? Probably, because she had referred to Claude as a creep. Or was she smiling, because it was another tale Kal would want to hear and she couldn’t wait to share it with him? Or was she just smiling because she was happy Kal was there and she got to spend time with him?

“Needless to say, Claude made reference to me ‘repaying’ him for dinner in no uncertain terms and when I told him ‘no way’ I’d rather…” Lois blushed and took a gulp of her water. “He excused himself to the men’s room. Instead he left the restaurant, leaving me with the hefty bill.”

Kal wondered what Lois had told Claude that she would rather do, but clearly it made her uncomfortable, so he decided not to press the point. How exactly did he fit into this story? Did he fit into this story? Where was this story going? He really didn’t care as long as she kept her hand on his.

“I ended up being forced to wash dishes.” Lois chuckled softly. “I don’t ever want to do that again. How I looked when Claude had picked me up and how I looked by the time I left the restaurant…” She shook her head. “Night and day. Cinderella and the pumpkin… a smashed pumpkin.” She squeezed his hand and smiled at him again, and he felt like floating. “Why you ever chose to rescue a mess like that…?”

His smile grew larger. He had rescued Lois? That was how they had met? Because of him, not because of Clark?

“It was pouring down rain. And I was drenched. I got on a bus to come home and then discovered it was the wrong one. When I got off, I was in a strange part of town.” She scoffed at her own words. “I’d been in Metropolis less than two weeks. The whole city felt strange.”

Less than two weeks? How long had she and Clark known each other before they had decided to get married? How could this woman who knew him for such a short period still know him better than anyone else? Well… anyone else besides the Kents?

“A dog attacked me, knocking me to the ground and my head against the sidewalk.” She took another sip of her water. “I must have smelled god-awful. All that stuff that I had spilled down the front of me while washing dishes, plus falling down on a wet Metropolis sidewalk.” She smiled weakly at him again.

Could this story possibly be true? Why would she lie? Could it get any worse? Could it get any better? Oh, yeah, he was in it. It was sure to get better.

“I got away from the dog — somehow — and ran down the street. At the corner, I slipped, twisted my ankle, and fell into traffic.”

It got worse.

Lois smiled at him. It was a dazzling smile that sent his racing heart rocketing off to the moon. No, “dazzling” wasn’t the right word, but it sure was close to the right word.

“Suddenly, I had the wind in my face and a pair of strong arms held me.” She squeezed his hand. “And I looked up and saw this face.” She let go of his hand and cupped his jaw.

Kal swallowed, relishing at this new touch. This was the story of how they met? It was no wonder their romance had been a whirlwind.

“Did we like each other right away? Me and you?” he asked softly, leaning towards her.

Lois paused as if the question seemed a surprise. “Well, we didn’t not like each other,” she responded, moving towards him.

“Was it love at first sight?” he asked timidly.

Her more-than-dazzling smile grew larger as she placed a light kiss on his lips that radiated through his body.

“Yep. You fell for me. Head over heels,” Lois told Kal with a wink as his jaw dropped.

“Seriously? You’re kidding me, right? I fell for you? That night?” Kal’s brow furrowed. Was Lois teasing him? Surely that was the night she fell for him. A man like himself had women — such as Linda King — practically throwing themselves at him. And he had fallen in love with a soaking-wet woman who smelled so badly she attracted dogs? That couldn’t be right.

The smile fell from Lois’s face. Kal watched as her eyes focused sharply on him and her tongue crossed her front teeth. There was something so extremely sexy in this current expression. If Kal had been listening to any other part of his body instead of his brain, he would have already been making love to her seconds later. As it was, Kal scooped her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Lois pushed away from him. “What? What do you think you’re doing?” she stammered.

“Kissing Clark Kent’s incredibly sexy wife…” he responded, going in for another kiss when it sunk in exactly what he had said. Quickly, he set her down and backed away. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Lane. I should never have presumed to… but when you licked your teeth like that, my animal instincts took over and I had to kiss you.” He was across the room now. It felt better having the entire room between them. “I know that’s no excuse for my behavior and…” Kal decided to shut his mouth at that point as he felt speaking was just digging himself into a deeper hole. He needed this woman to help him remember his past. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been to listen to his base instincts.

Lois put her hands on hips and glowered at him. Slowly a smile crept onto her lips, and she laughed.

Kal watched as her as she laughed. God, she was a beautiful woman. He looked away. Clark Kent’s wife, he reminded himself again.

“And yet, you somehow find it inconceivable that you would fall in love with me at first sight?”

Kal smiled weakly, almost sheepishly at her. Her logic was astounding. Of course, he fell in love with her at first sight. He had today, why not before?

“And you find it sexy when I pass my tongue over my teeth, like this?” she asked, demonstrating.

Kal swallowed and gave her a quick nod, sliding to the floor. Wasn’t it obvious what she was doing to him? He tucked his knees up to his chest in an attempt to hide true feelings for this woman.

Lois smiled at him. Not dazzling him, but definitely indulging him. “Well, that explains a lot.”

Kal waited to hear her reasoning — what exactly that meant — but she didn’t go on. Instead she walked towards him.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at you.” Lois knelt down in front of him. “I was surprised by your reaction, that was all. A woman doesn’t expect a man to kiss her… so… thoroughly after he insults her.”

Kal gulped. He had insulted her? “I… I didn’t mean… Of course, I fell in love with you at first sight. Why wouldn’t I? You’re the most…” He swallowed. Clark Kent’s wife, he reminded himself again as he glanced away.

“Go on,” she coaxed him from entirely too close. “You’re allowed to compliment me.”

“You’re his wife. I’m… I shouldn’t… It isn’t right that I…”

Lois touched his cheek and turned his face so he was looking at her again. “I’m your wife as well, Kal. I married you as well as him.”

“My wife?” he whispered, not wanting to think about the possibilities that came with those two words.

She nodded. “No secrets, okay? You can trust me. Tell me whatever is on your mind.”

Oh, no! He wouldn’t tell her that! “I love you,” Kal told her instead and then realized what words he had chosen and looked away again. He couldn’t think straight around this woman. He must be under some kind of spell… but… but he didn’t seem to mind in the least.

Lois turned his head so he was gazing at her again. She had to stop doing that. Under those doe eyes, she turned this Superman into Silly Putty. “And I love you, too, Kal.”

How come he couldn’t breathe? Something about this woman made him lose control. No. She loved Clark. She couldn’t love them both. “But you’re so beautiful… stunning, really… and smart. And poised and thoughtful and such a good listener and patient… I bet that’s why you’re such a great reporter.”

She grinned under his tidal wave of praise. “Well, see… your memory is already starting to come back.”

What?! No, those weren’t memories… Oh.

Lois smiled at him. She was just teasing him.

Kal exhaled and wondering why he couldn’t relax. Right. He was leaning against the door with his legs tucked to his chest with this incredibly sexy woman resting her chin on his knees.

“Kal?”

“Hhhhmmm.” Coherent speech was impossible at the moment.

“Would you still like to kiss me?”

That was the least of the things he wanted to do to this woman. “Yes.”

“I won’t stop you this time,” she whispered, and he watched as she closed her eyes.

Kal gulped and turned his head away from this evil seductress. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you may, Kal. I’m giving you permission,” she told him, leaning towards him.

He could feel her chest pressed against his shins. His fingers itched to touch her, but he knew it would be his undoing. “What about your husband?” he asked warily, knowing she was breaking through his barriers.

“You are my husband,” she replied.

“I mean Clark,” he whispered, his resistance faltering.

“Kal, you are Clark. And he is you. When you make love to me, I’ll be making love to him.”

Kal’s spine stiffened.

“All I’m asking for is a kiss,” she said, clarifying.

He cleared his throat. “I know to you we are the same person, Lois. But, to me, Clark might as well be someone else. How would it make you feel if Clark told you that you would be making love to him, but he would be thinking of someone else — I don’t know…” He picked a name at random, someone he knew they both knew. “Like Linda King?”

Kal knew the instant he said Linda’s name he had picked the wrong example. Lois back not only went stiff as a board, but that day-dreamy expression that had been in her eyes changed to something that could not be disguised. He knew it wasn’t anything but fury. Lois stood up and returned to the dining table.

“Do you want to make love to Linda?” she spat at him.

“No. I just chose a name we both…”

“Kal, whether or not you believe it, you are my husband Clark. You and Clark share the same body. Linda and I don’t,” she spoke slowly, enunciating each word.

He bent his head in shame. Lois was right. The comparison wasn’t quite the same, even if it felt the same to him. “To me… I’m sorry… I…”

“I’ll give you a pass this one time only, Kal.” Her voice was cold and sharp like a biting January wind. “Never say her name in my presence again.”

Kal gulped. Yep. Definitely the wrong name.

He stood up and wrapped his arms around her, knowing he had to comfort her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a history. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Lois was still stiff in his arms as she shook her head against his chest. “No. It’s ancient history, and it’s not important in the big picture.”

“Okay.” He accepted that. Linda and Lois had an ancient feud. He could understand that.

“Most recently though, she’s been trying to steal you away from me,” Lois whispered, finally allowing herself to relax in his arms.

“Clark?” he asked softly. That would explain her sudden anger at the mention of Linda’s name.

“No, you, Superman,” she replied.

Lois was upset that Linda had tried to take him from her? Lois loved all of him, not just the Clark part? So this feud with Linda wasn’t so ancient. He remembered Linda kissing him at the police station and mentally kicked himself again. He definitely was not going to mention that woman again. Linda who?

“Would you like to tell me another memory? Another Kal memory?” he clarified, not wanting to let go of her but wanting to change the subject.

Lois tightened her arms around his waist. “What would you like to hear? The first time I saw you in the blue suit? The time you kidnapped me because someone bugged my apartment? The time you took me to that beach in Costa Rica and made me that glass fish? The first time Superman and I kissed? Or the time you came to me in the middle of the night after a difficult rescue?”

Kal’s jaw dropped. He had to choose? Those all sounded like good stories to him, especially the one where he visited her in the middle of the might. But that one sounded a bit risqué. Had they made love after he had come to her? No! He wouldn’t ask about that story. The first time they kissed had potential and the first time she saw him in the blue suit.

“I wasn’t wearing my suit when I rescued you that first time?” he asked.

“Nope.” Then he heard her chuckle. “Well, you were wearing your birthday suit…”

“What?!” he backed out of her arms to look at her in the eyes.

“Under your navy blue athletic suit,” she explained.

He pulled her into his arms once more because he felt better with her there. “Minx.”

She giggled.

“Ha-ha. Make fun of the man with no memories,” he replied with pressed lips.

“I’m sorry. You’ve been through a lot,” Lois said as she caressed his cheek. “I know you must be scared.”

“To have the clock wiped clean and not know what you missed…” Kal murmured. Her touch felt too good.

“Well… you’ve traveled the world, and you have a wife and family that love you. You haven’t missed anything important.”

But it felt like he was missing everything that was important. Every memory of Lois. He wanted to know what his heart had done the first time he had laid eyes on her. True, it nearly exploded out of his chest when he saw that photo of them on the tabloid. He would love to know how it felt when he and Lois kissed for the very first time. Of course, he knew what it felt like when she jumped into his arms by the pool and kissed him. That could double as a first kiss for him.

“And thanks to you… saving us all from Nightfall,” Lois continued. “You’ll have time to recreate any really important memories that don’t come back to you.”

Like seeing Lois naked for the first time. Running his fingers over her soft skin for the first time. Making love to her for the first time. Oh, God! He needed to stop thinking about being intimate with Lois while he was holding her in his arms, or she would feel these thoughts on his body.

Kal pulled out of her embrace to gaze at her face. He cupped her jaw in his palm and ran his fingers over her lips. She was too beautiful for words. And she loved him.

Lois swallowed. “Or I could tell you about the night I first learned about the man from another planet. Or the time I discovered that Clark and Superman — or technically the man who rescued me that rainy night — were one and the same. Or the first time you and I made love…”

Somehow Kal’s lips found hers and claimed them for his own. She deepened the kiss, and this time he let her. Lois tasted sweet like milk and honey.

The microwave chimed once. Then twice. Reluctantly, Lois stepped back out of his embrace. “I should…” Her breath was ragged as she stared at him. She wanted him.

Everything about Lois told Kal that she wanted to make love to him. The way she fixed her gaze on him, the race of her heartbeat and her catch of breath, the way her hands had gripped his shirt while they kissed, and how her tongue had caressed his. He could even smell her desire. He didn’t know how he knew that scent was desire, except every time he breathed he had to fight himself from pulling her back into his arms. He swallowed.

Lois finally blinked. “I better get that casserole out of the oven before it burns…” she murmured, not moving, her hands still resting on his arms.

“I can…” Kal said, forcing himself away from Clark’s wife. Clark’s wife! he reminded himself again. He should never have kissed her like that. He opened the oven door and pulled out the casserole with his bare hands, setting it on top of the stove. “Where do you keep your plates?” he asked, not wanting to even look at Clark’s wife.

Yes, he shouldn’t refer to that beautiful woman as Lois anymore. Kal needed to keep it at the forefront of his mind that she wasn’t his; Lois was Clark’s wife. She might think that he was Clark Kent, but he knew the truth. He shouldn’t make love to Clark’s wife. “It would probably be best if you take the bed and I slept on the couch tonight,” Kal continued with a quick glance over to Clark’s wife to gauge her reaction.

Lois looked for a moment as if she were going to say something in protest, but those words — whatever they might have been — died on her lips as a smile replaced them. “You’re right, Kal. That’s a good idea.”

She seemed happier than he hoped she would be by this suggestion. He liked that he had made Lois happy, but he would be dishonest if he didn’t acknowledge that a part of him — about 89.6 percent to be precise — had wished she might balk at this recommendation and, therefore, felt disappointed that she readily accepted it.

Clark was one lucky man.

***

Lois licked her lips as she watched Clark scoop pasta onto the plates, her fingers drumming on her biceps. She didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn about acknowledging his true identity to himself. Was it an amnesiac thing? This obstinate attachment to right and wrong. Or was it paranoia, self-preservation, or just innate Kal-El?

If Kal had accepted that one fact — that Kal-El was also Clark Kent — they could be making love at this very moment instead of eating dinner. But in her note, Martha had recommended giving Clark time. And, at the moment, Lois was nearing the end of her patience. She wanted her husband and knew that he wanted her. She did not understand his reluctance.

Clark’s mother wrote that Clark… Superman was actually afraid of Lois… afraid that she would expect intimacy from him. Hadn’t she and Clark already dealt with that?

Oh, come on, Martha! They’re supposed to be on their honeymoon!

“Give him time,” Martha had written in her note with the cooking instructions for the casserole. “Give him space, but not too much space…”

Lois had given Kal time. How long was she supposed to be patient anyway? She hadn’t forced him to do anything. She had given him so much rope he was going to hang one of them soon. And she had the strange feeling it was her.

Oooh, bondage!

Lois hated that her physical desire for her husband was ruling her brain. She couldn’t think properly. He was her drug, and she needed her fix. She couldn’t believe how quickly she had become addicted to him and wondered when she would get her brain back.

You want it back?

She needed some form of release from her desires, but she refused to beg any man to make love to her.

I’m not above begging. Heeeere, Kal. Heeere, boy. Her inner voice whistled. I’ve got a treat for you.

‘That’s not begging,’ explained Lois to her inner thoughts. And it wasn’t like she could go into the shower and get it herself. Been there, failed that.

Tonight. Bedtime. Patience, Lois.

Lois stifled the urge to groan as she studied her husband’s backside. He turned and brought the plates to the table. Then he did a double take. “What?”

She quickly grabbed the silverware and napkins, wiping the drool from her mouth. She cleared her throat, hoping her thoughts hadn’t been written all over her face. “I was just wondering if you wanted to zip out and get us some wine and bread to go with dinner?” she lied.

“Zip?”

Right. No memories. Kal not Clark.

“Fly,” she clarified along with the hand motion.

His eyes widened and then scrutinized his plate of pasta as he started to eat. “No. I’m fine with water.”

Okay. That was weird. She set a hand on his sleeve. “Kal?”

Clark glanced at her and then returned his eyes to his plate. “Do you really need wine? This is really good. You should…”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he stated, clearly lying.

Lois wished he would stop lying to her. She knew every one of his tells. “Kal.” She set both hands on his, stopping him from eating. “Are you worried about getting lost?”

He gulped and then sighed. “A bit,” he whispered, still not looking at her. “I just found you; I don’t want to lose you again.”

She smiled, letting go. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re welcome to stay home as long as you like. I’m okay with water.” She raised her glass. “To us!”

Clark picked up his glass and said, “To new beginnings.”

Lois nodded. It was kind of like that. “New beginnings,” she repeated and tapped her cup to his.

To naked beginnings and happy endings.

She dug into her tortellini and actually moaned out loud as it touched her tongue. Martha was the best cook in the world, and now she was her mother-in-law.

Loving the Kents!

Lois really wanted to savor every bite, but as soon as she started eating she realized exactly how hungry she had been. She moaned with pleasure again, and her eyes closed. Lois remembered the other night how Clark had fed her pasta by hand. And whenever the sauce had dripped, he had leaned over and licked it off her. Wherever it had landed. Down her chin. Onto her chest. Her thigh. Then she would suck his fingers clean after every bite.

She stretched her arms above her head as yearning crept over her. The mutual bath afterwards had been a necessity.

Lois took another bite and tried to keep the moan from her throat by speaking. “You know, Kal. I knew I wanted to be a part of your family the moment I met Martha. I just didn’t realize I’d…” She glanced over at Clark and what she saw interrupted her. He was staring at her. His fork held mid-way to his lips and his mouth hanging open. His eyes were glazed over.

She raised a brow at his curious expression and brought another forkful to her lips with a shrug. A bit of sauce dripped down her chin and before she could wipe it away with her napkin, Clark leaned over and licked it off.

If Lois had thought his eyes had been big before, they were nothing compared to what they were now. Had Clark remembered their pasta and bath night? Had Martha been wrong? Maybe what Clark needed to get back his memory were some sensory memories.

Can I volunteer?

Kal jumped up out of his chair and ran into the bathroom. Lois was reminded of the time he accidentally admitted to her that he was still a virgin.

Lois went to the door and softly knocked. “Are you all right?” She was guessing “humiliated,” but she wanted to repeat what had happened the other time and hopefully knock a few memories loose.

“Fine,” he called to her in a garbled voice.

“Clark?” she whispered, laying her hand and head on the door.

Lois! Remember your dream. Don’t scare this man off.

“Can I come in?”

“Occupied,” he choked out.

Lois pressed her lips together. She sat down and continued eating her dinner.

Patience. Hating it.

Eventually Clark came out and, after a quick glance around the apartment, sat back down at the table.

Don’t say anything about him licking your face. Act like it was a normal, everyday occurrence.

Lois set her hand on his and gave it a little squeeze. “Are you okay?”

Clark closed his eyes and winced. He took a deep breath before apologizing. “I’m sorry, Lois. I don’t know what came over me.”

She flashed him a brief smile at him. She really wanted to tell him the truth, but she had promised to tell him only Superman memories. And that was definitely a Clark memory. “Ya think your mom would share her sauce recipe with me? You seem to really like it.”

He laughed softly to himself with a shake of his head. “I really don’t know her well enough to know whether or not she shares recipes.” He sighed and then mumbled to himself, yet loud enough for her to hear, “A man would have to be Superman to survive being married to this woman.”

Lois closed her eyes and pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. How could he say that about her?

Amnesia, Lois. He doesn’t remember about Pete.

She knew that but, even so, his words hurt. Every time she thought she had worked her way past it, there it was hanging in front of her again. Like she was being haunted by former best friend’s ghost.

Pete’s not haunting you. You’re imagining things. And anyway doesn’t he deserve a title bump to at least “lover”?

“Lois, is something wrong?” Clark asked.

“No. I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. And I fell asleep earlier while waiting for you but…”

Go ahead. Tell Kal about your Superman nightmare. I dare you, her inner voice taunted her, knowing Lois would do nothing of the kind.

“No luck, huh? Too wound up worrying about Clark?”

I know a cure for that!

Kal cleared his throat. “I noticed the blanket on the couch…”

Uh-oh! Here it comes.

“Yeah,” Lois said, moving her dishes into the kitchen.

Clark followed her with his dishes.

Lois grabbed the brownies, knowing she was going to need them, and went to sit on the couch.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

She sighed and took a bite of brownie. The deep richness of the chocolate was just what she needed.

Ah, Lois, I’m guessing Kal’s going to want an answer to his question.

Personally, Lois was tired and not at all in the mood for this argument.

***

“Lois?” Kal asked, standing next to her as she ate brownies on the couch.

She pressed her lips together and gave him a look of annoyance. “Where do you think it is?” she snapped, setting the plate down on the coffee table.

Kal crossed his arms and took another thorough look around the apartment. He even used his x-ray vision. Still no bedroom. “I don’t know why you’re so upset at me. Does it have to do with …”

Why did he bring that up? he scolded himself. Kal had no idea why he suddenly licked Lois’s face. Well… okay, he had some idea. A vision really. Of her sitting in his lap as he hand-fed her pasta. He didn’t know where that idea came from, except when she took a bite of her food and moaned: Poof! that image popped into his head. He thought about what it would be like if Lois were to take off her shirt and sauce dripped down her chest and he happened to lean over…

He hadn’t been able to move. Then she had moaned again and sauce dripped down from her lips. It seemed so natural that when he actually did it, the shock and surprise on Lois’s face seemed out of place.

Ever since he met Lois he had been having elaborate fantasies about her. There was that one where he made love to her while standing up in a cave. He couldn’t remember having fantasies before — obviously — but these visions were more than just pictures. His body felt whatever was happening in these daydreams. He could feel the taste of her lips. Actually feel the pressure of her body against his. So, when he had licked the sauce off her face… he had to run into the bathroom because he could no long sit there in front of her.

He couldn’t just go jump into the shower. Lois would have found that odd. So, he had locked the door and filled up the sink with cold water. He had just splashed some on his face when she knocked on the door and asked if he were okay. He told her he was fine and hoped she would go away.

With a couple of controlled short bursts of freezing breath, he had a thin level of ice covering the water in the sink. He had grabbed one of her hand towels and had stuffed into his mouth, finally allowing himself that moan of frustration inside of him to escape. As he untucked his shirt, Lois had knocked again, asking if she could come in. He had groaned into the towel and mumbled something to her about the bathroom being occupied. Truth was, he was doing all this because he wanted Clark’s wife… the woman he loved.

He had no longer been able to sit there while she spouted double entendres at him. He had unbuckled his cape, dropping it to the floor, and pulled down the top of his blue suit, leaving his chest bare. He had wanted to do so much more while dreaming his Lois fantasies. It would have been easy, but with her having been just on the other side of the door, that had neither been the time nor the place. So, with a flick of his finger to break the ice and the towel shoved into his mouth, he had dunked his face into the icy water.

Then he had heard her whisper, “Clark.” Hearing her speak her husband’s name instead of Kal’s had done more to deflate his current problem than the ice water. After another minute, he had removed his head from the icy waters at the sink, dried himself off, and sat down on the closed toilet. He wished he had someone he could speak to about these feelings he was having for his… Clark’s wife.

Kal had buried his face in his hands. He loved her. He loved Lois, heart and soul. He also desired that woman. He had wanted nothing more at that moment than to forget propriety and make love to the woman he loved. But he couldn’t do that to her. Lois deserved better than that. She loved and missed her husband. And, without his memories, Kal wasn’t Clark. He was still essentially a stranger. And she shouldn’t make love to a stranger, even if she loved the man who normally occupied this body. It would be wrong to do that to her. If she made love to him like that, it would be like making love to the shell and not the man inside. And since Kal was the man inside, he couldn’t do that to himself.

As Kal pulled himself out of this reverie and bent over to take a brownie off the plate, he realized that Lois had grabbed the back of her couch with her hands and the base of it with her feet. From this angle he could see up the bottom of her short shorts without the help of his x-ray vision. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. What she was doing took second precedence over how she was doing it. His mind could only focus on the how. Her butt wiggling and her breasts jiggling in the air as she pushed against her couch for some unknown reason. She wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear? Were these her pajamas?

Suddenly, her couch collapsed flat with Lois sprawled across it. Kal gulped as the ramifications of what she had been doing sunk in. Lois didn’t have a couch and a bed, but a couch or a bed. He took a step back. “No.” He did not have the self-control to sleep in the same bed as Clark’s wife.

Lois peered at him over her shoulder with a raised brow. She crawled to the edge of the newly formed bed. “As my husband you are welcome to share my bed, but suit yourself,” she told him.

“Clark is your husband,” he whispered with his last remaining bits of his willpower. His hands had formed tight fists by his side.

Kal listened as she drew in a long breath and slowly exhaled it. “Fine, Kal. If you don’t want to admit to yourself that you share a body with my husband Clark, that’s your choice.” She went to the desk, pulled off a manila envelope and Frisbee tossed it to him. “Here’s the proof that I’m right and you’re wrong.” Then she marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Kal was still staring at the wedding photograph of her and Clark, when she emerged a few minutes later. “I don’t see how…” he told her.

“Do you know the saying ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue’?” she asked him.

That sounded familiar, but only vaguely, so Kal shook his head.

“When a couple gets married, it is considered good luck to have each of those items,” she explained.

Okay, he nodded. He was with her so far.

Lois held out her hand. “See this engagement ring? This was your grandmother’s… your Nana Clark, you called her. This was our something old.”

He nodded.

Then Lois pointed at the photo. “My dress was our something new.”

“You look beautiful,” he told her with a quick glance to those chestnut eyes of hers.

She smiled briefly at the compliment and moved her finger up the picture to her hair. “I borrowed that barrette from my sister Lucy.”

Kal nodded again.

Lois pulled the photo out of his hands and put it back on her desk. Then she returned to him. With a sigh, she sat down. “Do you trust me?” she asked him.

He had put his whole life in her hands by coming here. Of course he trusted her. “Yes.”

She reached up to his chest and started to unbutton his shirt.

Kal covered her hands with his, stopping her. “Lois, please,” he begged.

“Trust me,” Lois told him, and she continued unbuttoning his shirt. When she had finished, she flung it open so that the Superman shield and blue suit seemed to visually pop out. “You are Superman, correct?”

“Yes.” That was the one fact he knew for certain.

“The man I married wore this exact suit…” she said, resting her hands on his chest. “Well, not this exact suit, because that suit burned up on reentry during the first Nightfall mission — but a suit exactly like this one, under the grey suit he wore when we got married. It was our ‘something blue.’”

Kal gazed at her, still not knowing where she was going with this argument. His brow furrowed as he guessed, “I’m your good luck?”

“No, Kal,” she stated and then smiled. “Well, yes. You have always been my good luck charm.” She caressed his cheek. “I wouldn’t be alive it weren’t for you. What I meant was, when I married Clark, because he was wearing this suit, I also married Superman. You are my husband as much as he is.”

His eyes bugged. He was?

“So, you may share this bed with me — sleep with me — with a clear conscience. We won’t be cheating on my husband, because you are my husband. Now, will you please stop beating yourself up about coveting me?” Her smile grew larger. “It’s okay to want to make love to your wife.” Then she winked and with a soft nudge, told him, “Besides, I’m pretty irresistible.”

Kal blinked. Irresistible? That was an understatement. It was okay to want to make love to Lois because he was married to Lois? He gulped. What should he do now?

“No pressure, Kal,” Lois said, removing her hand from his chest. “Your suit bag from the honeymoon is in the closet. I haven’t had a chance to do laundry; so, no guarantees on cleanliness. I’ll clear a couple of my drawers out for you tomorrow. I’m sure everything in your duffel is clean.”

Duffel? Oh, right. Jonathan Kent’s old army bag. Kal turned his head and saw it still sitting where he had dropped it when he came in.

“I’m finished in the bathroom, so why don’t you go get changed?” Lois continued as she got up and went to the closet, where she removed sheets and pillows.

Kal really didn’t want to wear anything of Clark’s from the honeymoon, so he retrieved his duffel bag and took it with him into the bathroom. He felt it was a little early to be getting ready for bed; he would much rather stay up and talk to Lois. Hear more of her memories of him.

Well… maybe the phrase ‘much rather’ wasn’t entirely correct — not by a long shot. But even though she had convinced him that they were essentially married, Kal still did not feel right making love to her so soon. He wanted to, obviously, but he had just met her several hours before. And he shouldn’t let his cravings rule their relationship. As Jonathan had said, “There is more to a marriage than sharing a bed.”

Kal went through the clothes in the bag. T-shirts, jeans, slacks, button-down shirts — both long and short sleeve — sweatpants, sweatshirts, underwear — briefs, hmmm? — and socks. He had also found a few pairs of silky boxer shorts. Were these his pajamas? But there weren’t any matching shirts. Did he sleep only in shorts? No, that would never do. He picked out a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt instead. Not as romantic, but he wasn’t looking to seduce Lois. Dreaming of it? Fantasizing about making love to her? Most definitely. But he wasn’t expecting it.

It wouldn’t be fair to Lois.

He packed the rest of his clothes back into the duffel bag. Kal shrugged out of the button down shirt, which he had never re-buttoned after Lois had opened it, folded it neatly, and added it to the rest of the clothes in the duffel bag. Or should he drop it into Lois’s dirty clothes hamper? He did live here now. He sighed. He still felt like a guest though. The shirt was basically clean, as he had only worn it for a few hours, so he put it into the duffel bag with his tan pants.

Kal stood before the mirror in his blue suit now. He almost wished he could sleep in this. It was comfortable, nearly a security blanket for him. He had woken up in a suit like this one — he had changed into one of the clean ones hanging in Martha’s closet. Taking it off… he gulped. Would it make him feel seem less super?

No, even he knew the blue suit had to come off. He unfastened the cape, folded it, and set it in the duffel bag with the red shorts. Would it be too weird, if he slept in just the blue suit? Yes, he told himself and finally took it off. He stood in front of the mirror naked. Like this, he could almost be Clark Kent… well, except for the missing memories. He reached for the blue suit again but stopped himself, forcing his hand to move on to the sweatpants.

He could do this.

Jonathan had given him a new toothbrush, which he used to clean the taste of tomato sauce out of his mouth. Plus, if he did end up kissing Lois — just kissing — it would probably be best not to taste of garlic. He had washed the gel out of his hair when he showered at the Kents’, but he combed his hair again, making sure he had dried it thoroughly when he had heat visioned it after his head dunking. Then he looked to see if he needed to shave again. Okay, that was just a stalling technique, he admitted. He had shaved right before coming over to Lois’s.

Kal took a deep breath and picked up his duffel. He could do this. He would just tell Lois he was tired. After all, it had been a long, emotionally-draining day. Maybe she would understand. He hoped she would understand. Because if she touched him… Kal exhaled. His body wasn’t as well hidden under these sweatpants as it was under the blue suit, the red shorts, and a pair of slacks. If she — who was he kidding? — when she turned him on, she would know it. He opened the bathroom door.

“Lois, I…” he didn’t finish. There was no point.

Lois was sound asleep, curled up in a ball in the center of the bed. How long had he been in the bathroom? It didn’t matter. He exhaled in relief. He now knew he could survive the night. He set his duffel down next to the closet and walked to the bed. He gently lifted Lois up and tucked her under the comforter, facing the edge of the bed. He figured he would get more sleep himself if he didn’t have look into her serene, beautiful face all night.

Maybe he should put a wall between them. For Lois’s safety. He glanced around and decided his duffel was probably the best choice. He placed it up against Lois’s back and realized that this bed was smaller than he expected. With the duffel in the bed, it left him barely a foot of space in which to sleep. He nodded. That would be okay. He was Superman. If he fell out of bed, he wouldn’t suffer more than a cold floor. Maybe he should sleep on the floor anyway? He glanced at the floor and then back at Lois in bed. He would much rather sleep on the bed. And with the duffel bag there… Yes, that would work.

Kal returned the brownies to the kitchen and washed the dishes. He covered up the left-over casserole and stuck it into the fridge before turning off the light. He wiped down the dining table. Found a broom and swept the floor.

He looked at Lois asleep in the bed again with yearning. He was exhausted. He really wanted to go to bed, cuddle up next to her, and sleep. No, he mentally kicked himself. The duffel bag would remain between them. For Lois’s safety. He swallowed and sat down on the bed in the small sliver of space afforded him between the duffel bag and the side of the bed. He glanced back at Lois and his heart filled with love.

Tomorrow would be a better day. At least, he would wake up to Lois’s company instead of a dirt hole. He laid down and let his thoughts drift off to dreams of his incredibly sexy wife.

***

Friday — Early morning

A tingling feeling woke Lois up. For the brief moment she opened her eyes, she could tell it was still dark, very dark. Middle of the night dark. She felt that tingling sensation again and realized there was a hand caressing her. Under her shirt, caressing her. Was Clark awake? Did he know what he was doing to her? She exhaled as his fingers continued to touch her.

Oh, God! That feels good.

Lois could feel his hot breath blowing over her neck. Clark’s body was warmly snuggled up against her back. She sighed. He felt so good. She shifted her bottom and bumped into him. She smiled.

Hello, husband.

Clark’s hand was so warm against her chest. She pressed her back more firmly against him and she heard him murmur the groan she had stifled. She decided not to chance waking him — if he was truly still asleep — and just savored cuddling with him.

Soon, even that wasn’t enough. She needed more. Lois wanted to turn over and kiss him, but she was still afraid what would happen if he woke up and realized exactly what was going on. She took the hand that was caressing her chest and slowly glided it down her body. Lois smiled as Clark moaned again.

Chancing discovery, Lois reached back and gently tugged on the soft material of Clark’s pants. He moaned again with approval. She felt his lips kissing her neck as his body tucked itself against hers.

Oh, God! She wanted this man. Her hand went back to his against her stomach as he pulled her more tightly to him. Lois gasped with surprise. Clark seemed to take over as he kissed her neck.

Lois could no longer hold in the moan of desire that radiated through her. And before the noise had hardly left her throat, he disappeared. Clark’s warmth, his kisses, his hand, and the rest of his body were gone, leaving her cold and alone. Lois flopped onto the bed in frustration as she heard the bathroom door shut.

Oh, no, he didn’t!

Lois sat up. Oh, yes, he did!

Are you going to let him get away with that?

Absolutely not! Lois thought, jumping to her feet. No more games. This was war!

***

Clark stood in the bathroom, leaning against the bathroom sink, trying to catch his breath and get a grip of the guilt that was overtaking him. He couldn’t believe that he had done that to Lois. What happened to his duffel bag? How had he ended up pressed up against his wife?

Oh, God! He was out of control. He had to leave. Where he would go? He didn’t know. But he had to leave. She wasn’t safe with him around. But before he left he needed to take a shower… a very hot shower and relieve this ache that was as close to pain as he could remember feeling. Of course, since he had no memory that wasn’t saying much. He hoped that Lois hadn’t woken up. Perhaps she would never know what he had almost done to her in his sleep.

He heard the doorknob rattle and was glad he had thought to lock it when he had come in.

“Kal!” Lois demanded. “Open up this door. Now!”

Oh, crap, she knew. And she was angry as hell about it.

“I’m sorry, Lois. It won’t happen again,” he murmured, not knowing if he spoke loud enough for her to hear him. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and turned on the shower.

“Kal, if you get into that shower without unlocking this door, I swear…” She pounded on the door with a sob.

He stopped with one hand on the shower door, his foot about to step inside.

“Please,” she pleaded softly.

X-raying the door, he watched her wince and heard her cry before sliding down the doorframe in misery.

“Open the door, Kal, please. Don’t do this to me.”

Maybe she just needed to use the toilet. Against his better judgment, he quickly — super quickly — unlocked the door and jumped into the shower with his back to the rest of the bathroom.

He couldn’t concentrate as he heard the door open and then, a few moments later, the toilet flush. The water went from hot to scalding, surprising him, but luckily not burning his tough skin.

Then the door to the shower opened and there stood Lois, glowering at him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Kal was about to ask her the same question, but swallowed it, figuring he didn’t deserve a rebuttal. He kept his back to her as he watched her over his shoulder, trying to hide as best he could from her gaze.

“Do you think it’s fair to turn me on like that and then leave?” she snapped, her hands on her hips.

He gulped. That’s what she was angry about? “I should never have…”

“Don’t give me that self-pity crap!” Lois said, stepping into the shower and slapping him across the face. “You know I want you as much as you want me.”

Kal just stared at her as the water from the shower soaked through her pajamas, causing them to cling to her body as a second skin. He gulped. He was a goner. There was no way he could escape.

“There’s no need to turn away from me. I know what your body looks like; I’ve seen it all before,” she continued to holler at him. “Do you think it’s as easy for me to …?” Her voice caught with emotion. “Because I can guarantee you that I’ve never been… never…” Lois’s voice dropped off as a brief expression of embarrassment crossed her face.

He decided that it was his time to speak as he turned to face her. “So, you want me to give you pleasure?”

“Yes!” she insisted with relief.

Kal nodded, determined to fulfill his promise to himself to do whatever he needed to make her happy. And if this was what she wanted, so be it. He turned and faced her. “Well, okay. Pleasure it is then.” He pressed his lips together.

“What’s the matter?” she asked as they continued to stand there without touching.

“I’m figuring out the best way to give you pleasure,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. Did you want to ask twice?” He started to panic, but then pushed that emotion aside. He could do this. True, he couldn’t remember the first thing about giving pleasure to a woman. Well, except for what that article had said. And, although Lois said that he could tell her the truth, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share that with her.

Her jaw dropped open, but she didn’t speak. When she still didn’t respond after another moment, Kal shrugged and knelt in front of her, pulling her shorts down. He accomplished that in the span of approximately two seconds. Then he stood there a full minute, trying to remember what he had read in that magazine on the best ways to pleasure a woman.

Lois’s voice shook as she asked in a higher pitch, “What are you doing?”

“Well, I read in Love Fortress International this morning…” he told her, sitting down on his feet and gazing up at her face. “That the best partner for a man is a happy woman…” He tried to remember exactly what the article had said. “And the best way to keep a woman happy… was to give her …” Remembering the details of the article actually turned out to be more difficult with her standing there half naked. He cleared his throat. His gaze moved from her eyes down to the wet, t-shirt clinging to her chest. And the focus of his thoughts went away.

“Kal,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “What… What are you doing?”

He glanced up at her again and saw surprise written all over her face. “I am going to give you pleasure.” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? Am I doing it wrong?”

Lois smiled weakly down at him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. “Frankly, Kal, I have no idea.”

“Huh?”

“No one has…” She swallowed, blushing. “Ever…”

“Never?”

She shook her head.

His eyes opened widely as he realized ‘never’ included Clark. “Ever?”

“Stand up,” Lois requested.

“I was going about it all wrong, wasn’t I? Oh, I’m so sorry…” Humiliation flooded him.

“Kal. Stand up,” she repeated, bending down and tugging him up to his feet.

“I just wanted to make you happy, give you pleasure, and I failed…” he said, standing.

“Kal!” Lois snapped. “Shut up!”

He closed his mouth and looked at her.

Lois took a breath. “I think for our first time — the first time that you can remember — you should just kiss me and see what happens naturally. Okay?” She glanced up at him.

He liked that idea. He could handle that. “Can I do something else first?”

“What?” she asked warily.

“You said that you know my body. Well, I don’t remember yours. Can I have a minute to just look at you?” he inquired hopefully. “Before I kiss you and get distracted?”

Lois smiled with a wink. “I think I might be able to handle a minute of pure voyeurism.”

Kal grinned as he pulled the hem of Lois’s soaking wet sleep shirt up and over her head. He dropped her shirt on the shower stall floor on top of her shorts. She now stood in front of him completely nude. His gaze focused in on the perfection of her chest. He didn’t know if he had seen other naked women before he lost his memory, but he knew this body was sure to distract him from any others that might pass by him. He reached out and caressed her arm down to her hand. Lois leaned against the shower wall, closing her eyes with a groan.

“Are you done?” she asked hoarsely.

He smiled. “Just getting started,” he replied, raising his other hand to touch her stomach. Her smooth, wet skin was almost his undoing. He almost pulled her to him and kissed her lips, but then his voyeurism minute would be gone and he really did want to see her entire body. He knelt down beside her and kissed her belly-button.

Lois made a little noise like a sigh, but didn’t speak. He sat back on his heels and let his hands glide down over her hips and down her legs to her feet. Her sweet little unpainted toes practically begged for him to kiss them. He lifted up one of her feet and brought it to his mouth.

Lois whimpered. “Kal.” Her breath was ragged now. “Not while I’m standing, please,” she begged.

Kal smiled. Not a ‘not ever,’ just a ‘not now.’ A promise of future gratification and bliss brought him nearly as much happiness in the present. He set down her foot and she sighed. He turned her around, so her back faced him.

This time, he glided his hands up her legs to her bottom. As he stood back up, Kal couldn’t resist and started to kiss up her back.

She moaned and Kal gently turned her around so that they were facing each other once more.

Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her naked body to his. “Time’s up,” she announced before kissing him.

This kiss was unlike any other kiss he could remember. Naked, wet Lois made a wonderful kissing partner. The way her skin glided against his in the water made his body sing with joy. Her hand slid down his chest and over his stomach leaving a trail of tingles. He sucked in a mouthful of air and it was full of the fragrance and taste of her.

“Lois!” This woman was driving him wild. “Lois?” Kal knew he was going to ruin the mood by speaking these words, but they had to be said. “Lois, are you using any precautions?”

She leaned her head against his chest. “No,” she admitted with a sigh. “My father wanted me to start on the pill, but I’m always forgetting to take it and… if you don’t take it daily, what’s the point, right?”

“I don’t know if it’s even possible…” he began.

“It’s possible,” she told him.

Kal gazed into her eyes. “How do you know that? Do I…?” He gulped. Was he already a father? Were there others out there like him? Was she already pregnant with his child? Was that why they had gotten married so quickly?

“Well,” she said with a slight chuckle. “You aren’t going to believe me when I tell you this, because really you had to have been there, but…” She laughed again with a shake of her head. “You really aren’t going to believe me.”

“Try me,” he implored, hating that there was another mystery out there he didn’t know about.

“About a month ago, I was visited by two men from the future…” Lois said, pausing with a glance up at him.

She was right, he wasn’t going to believe her. This was crazy. He raised a brow.

“One of the men tried to convince me to marry him — in the psycho’s defense, he had been drugged by pheromones. Anyway, he wanted me to marry him because he said I was destined to fall in love and marry…” She pressed her lips together and he waited anxiously. “A super strong, super fast, flying alien called Superman.” She shot him a grin.

Great. Lois was insane. “Why didn’t he want you to marry me?” he asked skeptically.

Lois bit her bottom lip in a way that instantly reminded him that they were standing naked in a shower. He was tempted to press his lips to that slightly pouting bottom lip and hear about this so-called time-traveler another time, but he really wanted to know why this man didn’t want them to get married and how she knew he could father children with an Earth woman. Darn his curiosity.

“Because our love is so great and pure that together with our children, we create a utopian society that is so boring he had to come back into the past and break us up.” Lois shot him another huge and nervous grin.

“So, what you’re saying is that precautions are a good idea?”

She looked at him with a stunned expression. “You believe me?”

“Absolutely not. Do you need me to run out and get some?” he asked, dropping the subject of the time-traveling men altogether. “Or did you want to go?”

“I thought he was crazy too, Kal. But you’ve got to remember that this was before I knew you existed. Back when I thought that the man who saved me from falling into the street was a figment of my imagination. This was before you saved the colossus plane… Do you know about that?”

He nodded. They were getting way off track from the reason for this conversation in the first place. “Do you still want to make love? Or do you want to convince me that you’re right?”

Lois crossed her arms and took a step back, her jaw tense and her lips pressed together. “You really don’t remember me at all, do you?”

Uh-oh. He said the absolutely wrongest thing to say to this woman at this juncture, didn’t he? He gulped, knowing Lois wasn’t going to want him to give her pleasure after all. “I’m sorry, Lois.” He smiled helplessly at her.

“I’m not making love to you until you believe me. It’s snowing outside, remember?” she snapped with a flick of her wrist gesturing the great wide world outside their apartment. Then she grimaced with a sigh. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” She set her head on his chest in defeat.

His brow furrowed as he gently caressed her hair. “It’s snowing? In late September? Really? It didn’t seem that cold outside today, either, huh? Wow! Strange they didn’t say anything in the paper about a snowstorm. Does it always snow this early in Metropolis? Are you cold, Lois? I don’t want you to catch a chill. Should I turn up the hot water?” He was rambling, so he turned towards the shower knobs, only to be pulled back into her embrace.

Lois’s entire face was lit up with so much happiness. She pressed her lips to his and thoroughly kissed him. “This! This is why I love you,” she told him. “Why I married you.”

Kal wasn’t quite sure what he had said or done to cause this turnaround, but he wasn’t going to mess it up by speaking again. He had learned his lesson. Do not talk while making love to Lois! He even put it on his internal notepad in permanent ink, bold letters, and, for added emphasis, underlined it twice. If he ever lost his memory again, this was the one thing Kal hoped he would remember.

***

Friday — A little later, but still very early in the morning

Lois woke up to find Clark still lying asleep on top of her. It was a good feeling and she wondered what it was that woke her up. Then she realized she could hear the shower running in the background.

Ooops!

“Honey,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “Cl… Kal?”

He gave a soft, contented murmured of a moan and shifted his position slightly, but otherwise remained asleep.

Lois swallowed. That movement was just enough of a motion for her to realize that he was floating just above her on the bed.

My, oh, my. You two were a bit tired, weren’t you?

She nudged her husband on the shoulder a little stronger. “You need to get up.”

“Huh?” he mumbled half-asleep as they slowly descended back to the bed. “I like where I am.”

She smiled. She liked where he was too. “We left the shower running.”

“Oh.” Clark sighed. “I better get that.”

“Would you?”

Yeah, you’re a bit trapped under a superhero at the moment.

Slowly, reluctantly, he peeled himself off her. Then he paused, kissed her, and lifted himself up so that he was looking down at her. He smiled. “This brings back memories.”

Lois gasped. Did it work? She gazed at him hopefully.

He bent his arms and placed another gentle kiss on her lips. “Tell me again why I didn’t make love to you the instant I got here yesterday afternoon?”

Because he’s a stubborn, self-pitying, foolish, and amnesiac Boy Scout.

Lois kept the smile on her face, but she knew in her heart-of-hearts that this was still Kal, and not Clark with all his memories. “The water,” she reminded him.

“Right,” he said, groaning and pulling himself entirely off the bed.

She listened to him plod over to the bathroom before the water turned off and he returned. “Wow! That’s some cold water,” he said, and she could see his body glimmer in a sliver of moonlight that pierced the darkness. All of his body. She swallowed, feeling desire rise in her again. She heard him kick his duffel bag from next to the bed. The bag flew across the room, hit the closet door, and fell to the floor.

Lois opened her arms. “Would you like me to warm you up?”

He grinned. “I don’t mind if you do. Thank you, madam.” Kal slipped into her arms.

Good morning, Kal!

And he wasn’t wearing precautions, Lois realized as the blissful feeling of oneness overtook her.

Suddenly, Kal’s eyes bugged out. He flew off her and hit the cinderblock wall, sliding to the floor. “What?! What was that?!” he stammered.

Lois drew her knees up to her chest, her heartbeat racing and her breathing rough. “That’s why we can’t make love without precautions, Kal.”

“But… But that was… So…” He stood up, his expression intense. “I need to feel that again.”

“Kal!” She held up her hand. “No.”

His face crumpled like he was a little boy and she had just taken away his favorite toy. “No?”

“If we start… we can’t stop.” She swallowed, the sensation of longing still holding her captive as well. “It feels too good to stop.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “You felt it as well?”

“Yes.”

“Lois!” A female voice called to her as someone started pounding on her front door.

Who in the hell?

Kal stared at the front door and covered his lap with a corner of the comforter. Lois tugged it over herself as well, essentially uncovering him. He turned his gaze away from the door and gave her a sharp look. She shrugged innocently with a smile. He grabbed a pillow off the floor and covered himself again.

“Lois! I heard a couple of crashes that shook the building. Are you all right?” Lois now recognized that voice as her blonde, boyfriend-stealing neighbor Mayson Drake.

“I’m fine, Mayson,” Lois called back sweetly and without moving from the bed. “Clark tripped and hit the wall.”

“Oh, God! Clark? Clark! What’s he…?” Mayson’s voice broke. “Are you okay, Clark? Should I call an ambulance?”

Lois rolled her eyes.

Thanks for the interruption, Mayson. We’re fine now. Go on home now. Nothing to see here. Bye-bye!

Kal turned and gave his wife another, even sharper look. “Clark?” he mouthed.

“Tell her you’re okay,” Lois hissed back at him. “Her name is Mayson. She lives upstairs. You two went to high school together. She’ll be more worried about you than me. She doesn’t trust me, so tell her you’re okay or she’ll call the cops.”

“Mayson?” Kal called to the door unsurely. He glanced back at Lois, who encouraged him to go on. “Thanks for worrying, but I’m fine. Just bumped my head.”

Lois gave him two thumbs up.

“Oh,” Mayson’s voice softened, almost in defeat.

That’s right, Mayson. Clark sleeps here now.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Kal continued. “I’m not really dressed to come to the door at the moment…”

Lois’s eyes went wide as she started to giggle.

“Oh!” Mayson replied. “Well, glad to hear that you guys are okay. Could you keep it down?”

Lois’s giggles started to overflow and she covered her mouth to mute them.

“Okay. Sure. Sorry about that, Mayson. See you around,” said Kal with another perplexed shrug to Lois, who was now rolling on the bed in a fit of laughter. He lay down next to her and kissed her, shutting off her giggles. “Am I missing something?”

Nothing important.

Lois waved the question out of the air. “Mayson tried to steal you away from me when we first started dating. It doesn’t matter.”

“But you won?”

She grinned. “I always win.”

He raised a brow. “Do you now?”

“I do.”

Kal shifted his position, so that his body caressed hers. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” she breathed. He was too close and her willpower was nil. “We’ve got to get another apartment with less nosy neighbors.”

He smiled in agreement. “Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” he asked, his eyes darkening with passion. She could tell he was recalling what had brought about his journey into the wall.

Her mind went blank as he kissed her.

Yeah. Sure. That’s where you were.

His hand coasted down her body. “I need to feel that again…” he said, shifting his body closer to hers. “What was it again? That it felt too good to stop?”

“You once described it as…” Lois thought for a moment for the exact words as she scooted back up the bed further away from him. She had no resistance to him or that feeling of oneness. “You bringing me within your aura.”

Kal stopped and appeared dumbfounded by this statement. “My what?”

“Aura.” How was she going to explain it to him? How had he explained it to her? “It’s like your protective candy coating. Your hard shell.”

Clark did not say that to you!

Kal raised a brow, crawling to her. “Candy coating?”

Lois flushed, biting her bottom lip. “Can I help it if you taste good?”

He kissed her. “You’re the one who tastes good,” he murmured, running his hand down her body once more. “But I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

It was very distracting to have her naked husband lying next to her. “Hmmm,” she replied as her hand gravitated to his chest.

He took hold of her hand as it started to move down his body. “Lois.”

“Right. Aura,” she reminded herself, looking away from him. “You described it like your own personal force field. Anything that touches you within a millimeter or two also becomes protected. Which is why your blue suit doesn’t get damaged when you get shot or blown up. Why I can fly in your arms with no ill effects. And, when we make love, you wrap me in your aura, like you wrap me in your red cape sometimes.”

“And without precautions…?” he asked, kissing down her neck.

Lois voice cracked as she tried to concentrate on the subject at hand. “Something extra happens. It’s like we become one. It’s a very powerful feeling. Irresistible. Unstoppable. Indescribable, really. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Kal’s lips moved from her neck down her chest. “Sounds like something worth trying.”

“This really isn’t the best time to tease Mother Nature. With your memories missing, you aren’t at one hundred percent right now. Probably not the best time to try and make a baby,” she reminded him.

“We’ve must have tried it before…” His lips were now nibbling at her earlobe.

“Uh-huh,” she groaned.

He kissed down her neck, past her chest to her belly. “So, there may be a baby growing right here now?”

“Uh-huh,” she admitted, not really wanting to dwell on the subject.

“Really?” He glanced up at her, surprised. “You might be pregnant with my child at this moment?”

Lois smiled weakly and shrugged.

“How many times were we careless?” he asked, starting to kiss her stomach again. “Or did we do it on purpose?”

“Three. Maybe four times. The first time was accidental. We were celebrating your successful return from the first Nightfall mission,” she confessed. “The other times were right after that. We just couldn’t stop ourselves. It felt so good.”

“So, when I bring you within my aura, does that make you bulletproof?” Kal’s lips returned to her shoulder. Her defenses were crumbling.

“Not a theory I really want to put to the test,” she told him, her voice hoarse.

He glanced at her. “Neither do I.”

Glad to hear it. Can we stop all this incessant talking now?

“Lois, where are the condoms?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

“Bathroom. Under the sink.”

Suddenly, he was back or maybe he hadn’t left. And at that moment, she didn’t care. He was done torturing her and was finally back where he belonged.

A while later, while they relaxed in the afterglow, Lois realized it felt like it was snowing in her apartment. Lois opened her eyes and saw that it looked like it was snowing as well. She exhaled and one of the ‘snowflakes’ blew back into the air.

“Kal?”

“Hmmmm?” he replied, his head resting on her chest.

“I think we broke the bed,” she told him, blowing more feathers up into the air.

He chuckled. “It was worth it.”

Lois couldn’t agree more.

***

Friday morning

Kal woke up the next morning in a small stream of sunlight that sneaked through the one small window in the living room. He had no idea what time it was. He didn’t care. He was tangled in a mess of sheets and feathers with the most beautiful woman in the world who made love to him like a wildcat. And if all those boxes of condoms in the bathroom were anything to go by, they could stay in this apartment blissfully making love for a long, long time without ever needing to leave.

Well, he might need to go out and get some sunshine every once…

Sunshine!

Was that a memory?

Yes, sunshine recharged his batteries.

He smiled. Lois and sunshine.

Maybe he should fly her to a deserted island in the south Pacific and…

Kal’s smile faded with a sigh. Right. Flying. He couldn’t remember how to do that properly yet. He wouldn’t want to risk hurting Lois.

He ran his fingers over her hair. It was dotted with little white feathers. She hadn’t been joking about busting the bed. He glanced around. The feathers were from the pillows. But it looked like he had torn the sheets and the mattress as well. Goodness! How were they ever going to survive, if he destroyed their bed every time they made love? Had this happened on their honeymoon as well?

Lois stirred and her eyes opened. She looked at him with one of those dazzling smiles of hers. He returned it. It was all he could do; when she smiled, he wanted to smile too. He was so in love with her. She batted her eyelashes a couple more times and that smile became even more dazzling… radiant! Her smile was like a big dose of sunshine. He could feel himself becoming rejuvenated just by looking at her.

“Good morning,” she said to him, giving him a kiss. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Feeling like I need another dose of your radiant sunshine, beautiful,” Kal replied, deepening the kiss.

“We’re going to have to replace this mattress today. I knew it needed to be replaced after the break-in, but…” She pulled back and looked at him. “Did you say sunshine?”

He smiled and then it faltered. “You mean I didn’t tear up your futon?”

Lois shook her head. “No…” She smiled weakly. “Well, maybe a little bit. But the burglars cut it up when they trashed the place, looking for information on you. We flipped it over, but it was only a matter of time…” She sat up, focused on his face. “Did you have a memory?”

Kal gazed at her hesitantly. “I like sunshine?”

Her entire face lit up. “Yes! Yes! What is it about sunshine?” she coaxed.

She looked so excited, he hated to disappoint her. “I don’t know, like it recharges my batteries or something?”

Suddenly, Lois wrapped her arms around him, pressing her mouth to his. “Oh, this is so wonderful. What else? What else do you remember?”

Kal swallowed. “You’re very distracting.”

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized, letting go of him. “You’ve got your memories back. What else? What else?”

He looked at her blankly. Sunshine, that had been it.

“Come on, Clark. I know you’re in there. What else do you remember? The first time we made love? The first time we kissed? The second time? When you introduced me to your parents? The first time you took me flying? The big pile of snow? What else?” Lois was practically begging him now. “Anything?”

Kal frowned; it pained him to let her down so. “Just that bit about sunshine, Lois. That was all.”

Her face fell for a moment, but then she placed a smile on her face that he instantly recognized as fake. “That’s okay. A little at a time. That’s okay. At least, you’re remembering something,” she said, patting his arm and crawling off the futon. He recognized the disappointment in her eyes.

“You hoped I’d be better this morning,” he murmured as his eyes stayed fixed on her.

She retrieved her robe from the closet. “Well, of course, I hoped with familiar sights, sounds, and feelings something would come back.” After she had her robe on, she grabbed the broom to start sweeping up the feathers. “I hoped after a good night’s rest…”

A new insight hit him in the chest, winding him. “You don’t love me at all…”

Her brow furrowed. “Of course I love you.” She dropped the broom and came over to the bed, sitting down next to him. “Why would you say that? We made love all night long.” Lois wrapped him in her arms, but he remained there stiff with this new knowledge.

“You weren’t making love to me. You were making love to him. To Clark,” he growled.

“What? That’s ridiculous.” She held him tighter. “There is no him. There’s only you.”

“You only made love to me because you hoped that it would trigger some kind of wave of memories,” he told her. He could feel her stiffen as if he had hit a nerve. “Well, I’ve got news for you, reporter lady. I’m not Clark. I’m Kal-El.” Kal pulled out of her arms and stood up. “The last son of Krypton.”

Lois’s jaw dropped as she stared at him as if he had slapped her across the face. He spun into his blue suit, red shorts, cape, and boots.

Slowly, carefully, she stepped off the bed and approached him. “Think about what you’re saying. There aren’t two of you. Only you, the man I love.”

Kal’s heart melted. Maybe she did love him after all. He caressed her cheek. He loved her so much. Then he winced at the memory of her begging for him to remember Clark’s memories. He crossed his arms. “Tell me that again. Only say my name.”

“Your name?” She swallowed.

He raised a brow. “Say, ‘Kal, I love you.’”

Her eyes hardened. “No.”

“What?!” Kal gasped. Was she admitting that she really didn’t love him?

“I’ve humored you long enough. I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as it has,” Lois told him. “There is no Kal-El. He doesn’t exist.”

Kal held out his arms, showing her his entire ensemble. “Then who am I?”

“Clark Kent,” she replied.

He took a step backwards away from her, spinning into a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and Clark’s glasses. “So you’d rather tell Clark that you love him?”

Lois’s jaw tensed. “It doesn’t matter how you’re dressed. There is only you. I love all of you. Not just the parts.”

He looked at her defiantly. “So, you don’t love Clark?”

“Of course, I love you, Clark.” She reached to hug him, but he stepped away.

Kal saw how naturally she said that she loved Clark. How easily it slipped off her tongue.

“I know you are frustrated by the lack of progress with your memories,” Lois went on. “But we’ll work through this together. Okay?”

He pinched his lips together. “Actually, I had stopped being frustrated by my lack of memories, until you told me you couldn’t accept me without them.”

“I never…” she snapped, her tongue running over her teeth.

His eyes formed slits. “It’s not going to work this time,” he interrupted, trying to ignore the way his blood had rushed when she had licked her teeth.

Lois flung up her hands. “What?! What’s not going to work?”

“Trying to seduce me back into your bed.” Kal glanced over at the futon. “What’s left of your bed.”

She glared at him. “I’ve never seduced you to do anything…”

“You’re right. I love you so much that I looked past the fact that you don’t love me - me, only him - me. I wanted to make love to you. Me! Kal-El. I loved making love to you, but now… even those memories are tainted. Because you weren’t loving me, only him.”

Lois closed her eyes and he could see the tears dotting her eyelashes. “There is no him!” she yelled. “There is only you!”

“Right,” he stated sarcastically, marching towards the door.

“Tell me this much, if you’re not him, how come you keep acting like the dense idiot I married?” she retorted, throwing the last intact pillow at him.

Kal took a deep breath and exhaled out the anger from her cruel words. “Goodbye, Lois.” He opened the door and left.

Two blocks away, he found an alley and spun into his Superman suit. Then he ran — super-ran — off, hoping to outrun the sound of her sobs. A minute later, when he reached the wharf and the water, he stopped, unable to go any further. He could still hear her crying.

***

Lois wiped the tears from her eyes. “Enough!” she told herself. Then she called up to the heavens, “He banished you, you green-eyed monster. You aren’t welcome here anymore.”

No! gasped her inner voice. He wouldn’t dare.

Stomping into the bathroom, Lois took a quick shower. Afterwards, she got dressed and tidied up her apartment. She had hoped that within that time whatever paranoia Superman had about his true self would have faded, and he would return home to apologize.

When half an hour had passed… then forty-five minutes since he had stormed out, Lois decided there was no point in waiting around for him, wallowing any longer. Time to be proactive. There was a superhero in Metropolis without a memory, and she needed to protect him — whether he wanted her to or not.

Idiot! Dolt! Blockhead! Oaf! Fool! Nitwit!

She had been calling that man she married a lot worse names.

Lois needed to find her husband. She started by telephoning the Kents. They weren’t at the apartment, so she called the café.

“Howdy-Ho, MJ’s Café. How may I help you?”

“Maisie, it’s Lois. I need to talk to Martha,” she told the café’s hostess.

“Lois?” Martha’s voice instantly calmed her. She loved that woman. “Is everything all right?”

“Clark’s run off. We had a big fight this morning because he thought I made love to him just to get his memories back,” Lois explained. It felt good to get this off her chest.

“Did you?”

“No,” Lois snapped a tad too defensively.

Just a little bit.

“Not entirely,” she continued.

“Did it work?” Martha asked hopefully.

“If it had worked do you think he would have run off?” Lois exclaimed wryly. “No, he still thinks he’s ‘Superman’ or ‘Kal-El’ or whomever. For some cockamamie reason he’s still in denial about being Clark. I’ve tried to be patient, Martha. Really, I have. I didn’t pressure him or anything. I was able to convince him that he and Clark were the same person… I think. That I was married to both of them. That he really, truly was my husband. But without his old memories, he says Clark might as well be another man.” She sighed. “I just want my husband back.”

“You made love to him?”

“Well, he started it!” Lois retorted.

“Uh-huh,” Martha didn’t sound like she believed her.

Lois wasn’t feeling the sympathy she had hoped for from Clark’s mom. She started pacing. “Well, he is my husband. And I had thought he had died. Excuse me for being in love with your son and wanting to express that love…”

“Lois!” Martha interrupted her. “I’m not judging you. If he made love to you that means he still loves you.”

“I know he loves me! Whoever he is, he always loves me,” she practically shouted at Martha before despair washed over her. “I just don’t know if that’s enough anymore. I don’t know what else to give him. Other than a good clobbering.”

“I find a good ear-tug and a slap to the back of the head work well with Clark,” responded Martha with some much needed humor. “But then again, I am his mother.”

“Anyway. I just wanted you and Jonathan to know, in case Mr. High-n-Mighty-Boots decides to stoop to our level and comes to you for help,” Lois said snippily.

“Lo-is,” Martha warned. “Time. Patience. Love. That’s what Clark needs right now. If I know my son, he’ll blow off some steam, realize what a lunkhead he’s been, and then he’ll want to apologize to you.”

How could I have forgotten ‘lunkhead’? Duh!

Lois sighed. Did she still want to be married to a lunkhead?

You know you do, her inner voice reminded her. You love that lunkhead. You’ll always love him.

“Thanks, Martha. I think I may need some time, too,” Lois told her and then hung up. She had wanted to add that she needed some ‘space’ as well, but it was ‘space’ that had caused all these problems in the first place.

Damn asteroids.

***

It wasn’t until he reached Central Park in New York City that Superman could no longer hear Lois crying. Maybe he hadn’t been hearing her at all. Perhaps it had just been the echo of the memory of hearing her cry. Either way, it wrenched his heart.

He had done that. He had hurt the woman he loved. Kal had promised himself, only yesterday, to do whatever needed to be done to make Lois happy. Why had he stopped doing that? He had tried to be mad at her, even tried to hate her, but he couldn’t. His initial anger had faded and he realized that he still loved her. And he knew he always would.

If Kal had just let her mourn the loss of her husband, he could be right there, right now, with her. But, oh no! He had to be selfish. Want her to love him for himself. She was right; he was a dense idiot. Kal sighed. But it felt like a lie, somehow, letting her make love to him… when it was really Clark she wanted.

Everything was busier in this city than Metropolis. In a copse of trees, he switched back into his Clark clothes, glad to have a way to blend in… disappear. He found a patch of lawn by the mini boat pond and sat down to figure out what to do with his mess of a life. The sunshine felt good on his face, healing.

It was serene here. Kal could almost block out the sounds of the city from his mind. He could imagine coming here with Lois and having a picnic with pasta salad, chips, lemonade, and grapes.

He leaned back into the grass staring up into the blue sky streaked with wispy clouds. Being the end of September it was sunny, but not hot. Cool, yet not cold.

They could eat grapes. He could hold one in his teeth and Lois could try to steal it away from him with a kiss.

“Do you age, Clark?” He could hear Lois talking to him. He looked around, but didn’t see her anywhere. He closed his eyes and pictured that picnic again. She had called him ‘Clark’, but he knew she was actually talking to Kal.

Lois could kneel down next to him, take his hands in hers, and lower her voice, “I know you’re strong and invulnerable, but does that mean you won’t get older?”

“I don’t know, Lois. I never thought about it. I came here as a baby and I’ve aged regularly since then, but now?” he could reply with a shrug. “I don’t know what a Kryptonian’s life expectancy would be here on Earth.”

She could place her hands on his face, gazing deep into his eyes. “Would you still love me when I’m old, grey, and frail, stooped with age, and speckled with liver spots, if you still looked as you do today? Would you want to leave me and be with a younger woman with your liveliness, energy, spirit, and youth?” He could even picture her swallowing nervously. “Someone still attractive like you?”

He could then cup her jaw with his palm. “You say that like you could ever be unattractive, Lois, which is impossible. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I will love you forever. It doesn’t matter how you or I might change with age or even if you or I should die. I will never be able to stop loving you.”

Lois could stare at him that way she does, as if she could see his very soul. Kal could almost hear her heart racing. He even remembered the way her throat moved as she swallowed again, “Then marry me.”

Suddenly, this peaceful image with replaced with a Lois in lingerie, feeding him chocolate dipped strawberries while straddling him. Oh, God! … some chocolate dripped down on her shoulder. He moved the strap of her negligee away from her shoulder and licked off the chocolate. Chocolate and strawberry and Lois…

Kal sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to calm his racing heart and ragged breath. What was wrong with him? Why was he having all these torrid fantasies about his wife?

He winced. His wife!

Lois Lane really was his wife, and he had just pushed her away.

Idiot! Dolt! Blockhead! Oaf! Fool! Nitwit!

He could just hear her voice, echoing inside his head, calling him those names. And he deserved it. He agreed with her completely.

Kal looked around. That picnic wasn’t a fantasy.

It was a memory.

And it had happened here.

In this park.

At this spot.

The grapes.

The picnic.

The proposal.

She had been talking to Clark, but it was to him she had proposed.

Oh, God! Lois really did love him.

***

Friday — Morning

Kal opened the door of the apartment. “Lois?’ he called, although he knew she wasn’t there. It was entirely too quiet.

His shoulders fell as he sighed. Had he really thought she would be here waiting for him? Especially after all those horrible things he had said. He saw that she had cleaned up the feathers from the popped pillows and felt another pang of guilt in his chest. She was right. He was a dense idiot.

First, he had made love to her. Then he claimed she didn’t love him enough. On top of all that, he had left a huge mess for her to clean up. He would be lucky if she accepted him back. He would be lucky if she spoke to him again.

The phone rang, and he froze. Should he answer it? It could be Lois. Or it could be someone else that he was supposed to know but didn’t remember, like Lois’s neighbor, Mayson.

Or it could be Lois, he repeated to himself and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello. I was told I could reach Clark Kent at this number. Is he there?” the man on the other end of the line asked.

Good question. Lois said that he was also Clark. Kal swallowed his pride. “Speaking?” He really shouldn’t be so unsure of himself, should he?

“Kent! It’s Joe at MDS. I didn’t recognize your voice at first. Man, where have you been?”

Another good question. Only this one he didn’t have an answer to. MDS? He had no idea who Joe was. Kal decided to try to fake his way through the conversation. “Around.”

“Around? Around? Want to be a little more specific there, Kent?” the man — Joe, was it? — sounded quite angry.

Guess faking his way wasn’t going to work. Where had Kal been? He had no idea. He woke up yesterday in Echo Canyon. Then he came into Metropolis. Before that? Space. He battled an asteroid. No, he couldn’t tell Joe that. Before Nightfall?

“Niagara Falls,” he replied, confident that his answer was at least honest.

“Niagara Falls? Oh, my God, Kent! Did you marry Lois Lane?” The man laughed as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“As a matter of fact, I did, Joe,” Kal replied. Not that I remember any of the ceremony or the honeymoon, he thought to himself unhappily. Why couldn’t those have been the first memories he recovered? Oh, no. Sunshine! Pah!

“You? And Lois Lane?” Joe seemed surprised by this news. “You married Superman’s girlfriend? Are you nuts?”

Well, yes, yes, yes, and it seemed more than likely, yes.

“He’s going to kill you!” Joe chortled.

Very possible, Kal agreed. His own stupidity would probably cause him to die of a broken heart. Instead he said, “Superman doesn’t kill people, Joe.” He sighed. What had Henderson told him? “Anyway, Lois never dated K… Superman.” The words constricted his heart. What have you done? he thought as the stupidity of his words to Lois were once again brought to the forefront of his mind.

“Sorry, Kent. Everyone’s probably ribbing you. Congratulations,” Joe backed off.

“Thank you.”

“So, when are you coming back to work?” Joe asked.

Work? He — Clark Kent — worked at MDS? Joe was his boss? Or his supervisor or something? Crap! He thought the Kents had said that Clark was a reporter. He was going to have to tell Joe the truth about his memories.

“It’s been a nightmare here since Nightfall with the grounding of flights on Sunday…” Joe continued. “And then all over again on Wednesday. Everything’s behind schedule. We could use our best driver behind the wheel.”

Clark Kent was a driver for MDS? “Joe, I’m going to have to be honest with you. I haven’t been the same since Nightfall…”

“You and me both, Kent,” Joe agreed. “But we need you, man. The higher ups wanted to fire you when you didn’t show on Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday. You didn’t even call. That’s not like you, Kent. I told them, ‘He’s the best deliveryman we’ve got. Let me track him down.’ If you don’t come in today, we’re going to have to replace you.”

Kal choked. What should he do? He couldn’t go to MDS. He didn’t know what MDS was, let alone where it was. And he certainly was in no condition to … what had Joe said? … ‘make deliveries.’ “I can’t, Joe,” he finally admitted, hating that those words were even a part of his vocabulary. “I’ve lost my mind.”

“Excuse me?” Joe replied curtly.

“My memories. They’re all gone. I have no idea who you are or what MDS is. Or even what MDS stands for. It’s gone. All of it.” He hated to admit this weakness to a stranger, but if Joe was being honest with him — and Kal suspected he was — the man deserved the truth. “I’ve had no memories for the last day or two. Maybe longer.”

Suddenly Joe was laughing, really laughing. “Man, Kent, Lois Lane must be some lay to wipe your memories like that.”

Kal growled. “Excuse me!” That was his wife the man was insulting. His hand was in a fist, and Joe was extremely lucky that Kal had no idea where MDS was.

“Look, Kent, if you had wanted a longer honeymoon, you should have said so, but I can’t accept such a phony baloney excuse. I can’t believe you. You’re usually such a stand-up and reliable guy.” Gone was the friendly co-worker. Joe was now all business. “But your performance has been slipping over the past few weeks. Trucks coming in late. Hours unaccounted for. I know she’s hot, but I hope she’s worth it. You’ve got enough vacation accrued, how about we call it a draw, okay? We’ll count this week and next week as your two weeks’ notice. I hate to lose a good driver like you, Kent, but we really cannot condone this kind of behavior. Sorry, but that’s the way it’s going to have to be.”

“I understand,” Kal stated, more than happy to part ways with this Joe fellow and MDS, whoever they might be. Superman might not kill people, but after that comment about Lois, Kal was seriously considering making an exception. “Just send my paycheck to the old address. I’ll have my folks forward it on to me.”

“Kent. You’ve got direct deposit,” Joe reminded him.

“Do I? Good. Any idea which bank? No, never mind. I’ll figure it out for myself,” Kal replied tersely, slamming down the phone. He looked down at Lois’s broken phone. Great. “Well, I don’t condone this kind of behavior either, Joe,” Kal grumbled to himself. “…but that doesn’t bring the memories back any faster.”

He took another look around the apartment. Where was Lois? He was feeling more and more lost without her. She would know what to do. She could have stopped him from being fired. He winced, plopping himself down in her desk chair. He never realized how much he needed her and, like an idiot, he had walked out on her!

Sitting on the desk, next to the now-broken telephone, was an open phonebook. Kal glanced down at it. Restaurants. MJ’s Café! Of course, Clark’s parents. They would know where Lois… Kal glanced at the broken phone again with a shake of his head and sigh. He tore the page out of the phonebook and stuck it in his pocket. He would find another phone somewhere.

Suddenly, Kal heard something. What was that ringing in his ears?

***

Meanwhile…

Lois marched into the offices of the Daily Planet past Jimmy, to whom she just flicked her hand in greeting, and straight into Perry White’s office.

“What in blue blazes?” Perry stammered with a growl as he stood up. “Are you forgetting who works for whom, Ms. Lane?”

“Clark’s missing,” she announced, slamming his office door. “He doesn’t see himself as Clark, only as…” She lowered her voice and gave him a pointed glance. “… you-know-who.”

“Great shades of Elvis!” Perry exclaimed before dropping back into his chair. “So, he’s out in Metropolis… as you-know-who? Saving people? Without his memory?”

“Possibly. Probably. I don’t know.” Lois threw up her hands and sat down. “I shouldn’t have let him go on thinking that Clark and Kal were different personalities within the same man. I should have just told him that he was Clark with…” She glanced out at the bullpen and lowered her voice. “Extra features and an extra fancy work outfit.”

“We’ve got to find him,” Perry told her. “He’s vulnerable without his memories. If he should believe the wrong person or talk to the Metropolis Star…”

“I know that. That’s why I’m here. If he does make a move as… you-know-who… I figure the Daily Planet will hear about it. Maybe I can get to him before he talks to anyone, before it gets out that even you-know-how can get hurt, and convince him to come home…” She sighed.

Then what, Lois? He thinks you seduced him. He thinks you used him to try to get Clark back.

“What would draw Superman out?” Perry asked.

Lois shook her head. “I don’t know. A fire? A train accident? A drive-by shooting? A cat stuck in a tree? Who knows what?”

Jimmy knocked on the glass door and stuck his head inside. “Chief! Robbery in progress at a jewelry store downtown.”

Perry exchanged a look with Lois. They were both thinking the same thing. “Jimmy, take Lois. And your camera.”

Jimmy grinned. “On it, Chief.”

Lois gave her boss a grateful smile, then marched to the door. “I’ll drive,” she told the photographer. “You navigate.”

***

Kal stood outside the perimeter of the police tape. He had arrived too late to help, but luckily the police hadn’t needed him to get everyone out safely and capture the bad guys. He knew he should just leave, run off, but there was something about this jewelry shop that seemed familiar. He hoped that the longer he stood here, the more likely the memory would make itself known.

Someone came up next to him and nudged him. “Superman, what are you doing here?”

Kal glanced over and saw Linda King. Great. Just what he needed on top of everything else. He pressed his lips together. “I thought they might need my help. It looks like I was mistaken.” If he could have flown here…

Linda King focused on his face for a moment, then ran her fingers up and down his arm. “I bought some champagne the other day, when I thought the world was going to end. Shall I put it on ice for us?”

He really didn’t want to. He wanted to be with Lois, but if his wife kicked him out for good, he would need a place to go. “Can I think about it?”

“I don’t want to be alone. Nightfall made me realize that life is… whatever it is…”

“But we don’t really have a relationship, do we?” Kal asked her.

“We’re friends,” she said hesitantly. “That’s a relationship.”

“I need to find my own memories, Ms. King. I can’t fake them with somebody else. I’m sorry,” he told her.

Linda pressed her lips together and exhaled. “Hi, Charlie.”

“Hello, Ms. King,” he replied. He was okay with her thinking he was the impersonator. Actually, he felt more like an impersonator than a hero at the moment. A nagging question presented itself to the forefront of his mind. “How do you know Lois Lane?”

“We went to college together,” she answered nonchalantly. “Lois was willing to sell her first big investigative article to me for one night with my boyfriend.” Linda sneered. “No journalistic integrity at all.”

Kal’s jaw dropped. Lois sold her article for one night with this woman’s boyfriend? No, that couldn’t be right. “Why would she do that?” he asked skeptically.

Linda grinned. “Because the first boy with whom she ever slept died. She wanted to prove to herself and others that sex with her wasn’t deadly.”

No. No, that couldn’t be right. Lois wouldn’t have to sell anything to get a man to sleep with her. He knew that sounded worse than he had meant. But had Lois offered herself for sex — not that she ever would — men would have lined up for the chance to prove she wasn’t deadly.

He winced. That was why Lois had reacted the way she did when he had said that a man would have to be Superman to survive being married to her. Her first boyfriend had died. He felt awful. Why hadn’t Lois just told him the truth? Maybe she already had and he just couldn’t remember.

“Which is worse, Ms. King: selling one’s article for some peace of mind or selling one’s boyfriend for an article?”

Linda King got an expression of sucking lemons on her face. “How’s life with the Mrs., Charlie?” she retorted.

“Fine,” he replied, crossing his arms and looking back at the jewelry store. He didn’t want to share his problems with this woman.

She raised a brow. “Is it now? How fine can it be if you’re considering drinking champagne with me?”

Linda was correct. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole, so he could just escape this conversation and the torment of remembering his stupid words to his wife.

“How does — Lola, wasn’t it? — feel about you parading around in this suit, thinking that you’re Superman? Giving people a sense of false hope?”

Kal gulped. Was that what he was doing? “False hope?”

“How do you think people feel when they see you? They think that Superman made it back from Nightfall alive. They think he’s still here to help. I know that’s what I keep thinking every time I bump into you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, not necessarily. Until you run into a burning building and don’t come out again, when you can’t fly up to help the crashing plane, or when the bullets don’t bounce off your chest. People aren’t going to want to see the Man of Steel being taken to the morgue, especially Lola,” she informed him. “Go home to your wife, Charlie. Appreciate what you have, not what you lost.”

“What if I can do those things?” he asked her, knowing that it was the wrong thing to say, but wanting so desperately to have someone, anyone — even Ms. King — need him, acknowledge his existence, Superman him, not Clark him. The hero, not the man.

Linda shook her head. “Now, who’s deluding themselves?” she asked him, kissing his cheek. “Look, Charlie, I’m sure it’s the man under the suit Lola loves. That suit — it’s just something you put on when you go to work. It wasn’t the suit that made Superman super.” A contemplative look came over her face. “I wonder if it came off…” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm again. “I guess I’ll never find out now.” She sighed.

Superman glanced at Linda with apprehension and took a step away.

Linda glanced past him. “Oh, look, it’s Lois’s lap puppy.”

Kal glanced at the young man with the camera to whom Linda had indicated with her head. Lap puppy?

“Superman!” the photographer called to him, raising his hand in greeting.

Great. Did he know this kid?

“Have fun playing Superman, Charlie. Give me a call if Lola gives you the boot. My number is in the book,” Linda said with a wave of her hand as she walked away. “Don’t run into any burning buildings.”

My God! Did that woman think Charlie doubled as a gigolo? He shook his head and turned to the young man who had stopped next to him.

“Hi, Superman.” The young man seemed almost nervous to be talking to him.

“Hello,” Kal replied casually to the man whose name he did not know.

“CK’s missing,” the young man told him.

Who? Wait. CK? As in Clark Kent? Was this guy Kal had spoke to on the telephone yesterday about Lois? What had been his name? James? “Clark Kent?” Kal asked unsurely, hoping he was on the right track.

“Yes! I’m sorry, Superman. I’m Jimmy Olsen. I work with Lois and Clark at the Daily Planet. Lois is going out of her mind with worry. Apparently, CK got hit in the head and lost his memory. He made it back to Metropolis yesterday, but wandered off again today,” Jimmy explained.

Lois was worried about him? Joy poured into his heart. Was their love salvageable? Kal looked around. “Is Lois here?” he asked, full of hope, but not seeing her in the small crowd of people milling around.

“She was, but she left,” Jimmy replied with a shake of his head. “She was pretty upset. She took off like a bat out of hell, once I got out of the car and said I was going to ask your help in finding CK.”

Vaguely Kal remembered hearing a screech of tires a few minutes before. Had that been Lois? “Is she still angry at me?” Superman asked Jimmy, his heart sinking back into his red boots.

“Angry? Nah… Well, maybe a little bit, but her emotions are all over the place because of CK. I’ve seen Mad Dog angrier. Like the morning after you took her to CK’s without her permission because you found out someone had bugged her apartment… Whew! She could have cracked concrete with her fist that day.”

Superman gulped. He had done that? Why had she married him again?… Did Jimmy just call his wife ‘Mad Dog’? “Jimmy, do you recall what Lois’s exact words were? Just now, before she drove off.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “She said she couldn’t get out of the car. I asked her, ‘why?’ She had been staring straight at the store. Apparently this was where they had bought their wedding rings.”

Kal glanced down at his bare hand, then back up at the store in front of him. Wedding rings? Was that why this store was so familiar? How come he didn’t have Clark’s wedding ring? Jonathan Kent had given him Clark’s glasses, his wallet, and his apartment keys, but not his wedding ring.

“But I’m thinking she was more upset about seeing you and Linda talking,” Jimmy went on. “Because when I asked Lois if she was going to get out and talk to you, you know to get the story, she said she thought she could see the whole story from where she was. Lois told me once that Linda would steal anything not nailed down. So, I told her that I’d ask you to help find CK for her. She said, ‘good luck with that’ and then took off. I guess you’re right. Lois is mad at you for some reason, Superman. Wonder why?” Jimmy asked.

Superman winced. Lois had seen him talking to Linda King, the woman from whom she bought a night of sex with her… He shook his head. That still didn’t make any sense. Why would Lois be so venomously enraged by Linda King if that had been the case? No, Linda hadn’t told him the whole true story.

“Or…” Jimmy continued when Superman didn’t speak. “Maybe Lois had warned you about Linda and seeing you two talking and not taking her advice infuriated her. I can see that.”

Oh, yeah. Lois definitely wasn’t happy about that. Oh, God! Hadn’t Lois said that Linda had been trying to steal Superman from her? And then she drove up and saw… what? Linda kissing his cheek? Caressing his arm? Idiot! Dense idiot. What was the matter with him? Oh. Right. Amnesia.

Should Kal run after his wife? And confess his innocence? No, he decided. Who knew where she could be by now? And without his flying ability, it would take twice as long to check the neighboring streets. Superman tried to smile reassuringly at Jimmy. “Lois is right though. There isn’t much of a story here. Robbers came in to Mazik’s Jewelers at gunpoint, the silent alarm went off, and they were stopped shortly thereafter by the police. If you want more details, check in with Sergeant Zymak over there. If you see Lois, tell her I will find Clark and have him call her…” His voice faltered. Except that he had killed Lois’s home telephone. “At the Daily Planet. Do you have their phone number?”

“Ah, sure. The Chief only gave me a hundred of these, but…” Jimmy blushed and pulled out his wallet, removing a business card. He flipped over the card and wrote a couple of numbers on the back. “This top number is my home number.” Jimmy looked even more embarrassed. “For CK, if he needs to reach me.”

Superman nodded.

“The second number is Lois’s home number, in case CK forgot it,” Jimmy explained.

“You know Lois’s home number by heart?” Superman asked the young photographer suspiciously. Maybe there was more to that lap puppy nickname of Linda’s than he had thought. “I didn’t realize that you two were so close.”

Jimmy’s face was bright red now with obvious guilt. “With her sister Lucy. I’m kind of, sort of, hopefully dating Lucy.”

“Ah.” Superman nodded, feeling better about this young man and worse about that Metropolis Star reporter. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Superman, do you mind if I snap a few photos?” Jimmy asked, holding up his camera.

Photos! No, thank you, Jimmy. Kal wouldn’t be surprised if he still had feathers in his hair. No, the super running had probably taken care of that. “I should start looking for Lois’s husband. The police took care of this crime and it would be wrong to give me credit for it by photographing me here. Once I find Clark, I promise to give you first exclusive on any Superman photos.” Superman nodded to him.

“Wow! Thanks, Superman. I would really appreciate that. But you’re right. CK comes first,” Jimmy replied.

Kal looked around and tried to figure out in which direction he had come. Spotting the street, he nodded again to Jimmy and jogged down to the corner, waiting to use his super speed until he was out of sight of the young man and Ms. King.

***

Superman spun back into his Clark clothes in that alley two blocks from Lois’s apartment and then jogged back home, hoping to find his wife there. Maybe he had beaten her home. Or maybe she had gone to a bar to drown her sorrows. No, doubtful. Kal realized with his memories gone, he didn’t even know Lois’s vices… if she had any.

He wrote Lois a note, in case she did return home, apologizing for destroying her phone and telling her he would try to reach her at the Daily Planet, if she didn’t want to wait for him at home. Then he rolled up the torn and musky smelling futon mattress — perhaps he should have heat zapped out the dampness from it before he stormed out this morning.

Of course, after the mishap with the glass the previous afternoon, Kal might have set the mattress on fire. He sat down on Lois’s desk chair and buried his face in his hands.

His mind naturally drifted back to making love to his wife early this morning. That she was so willing to share herself, give up that control that she seemed to hold on to so tightly, and trust him… Trust him to touch her. Trust him enough to allow herself to lose control to practically… who was he kidding? She did beg him. He smiled. She had begged him to take her right that moment — without precautions — because she wanted him, needed him. He couldn’t deny her. Tempting though it had been, Kal had wanted her to know that he would use precautions because she had said she wanted to use them. And he was glad he had gone to grab a condom. After seeing the number of boxes of condoms, he knew Lois and Clark were nowhere near ready to become parents.

He mentally kicked himself again. She had been willing to share her body with him completely. Willing to allow herself to become impregnated by him — an alien at that! — and he had still told her that he didn’t believe that she loved him.

He gasped. What if Lois was pregnant already? From those couple of times she and Clark had joined auras or whatever Lois had said they had done. What if there was a part of him already growing inside of her? That thought brought him peace, happiness, and so much joy. And not only because they could make love for almost nine months without precautions — and he could feel that oneness with Lois every time. But to know he would not be alone in the world.

Kal grimaced. He hadn’t been alone. He had had Lois. What if he had lost her with his foolish words that morning? What if she was pregnant and he still lost her? What if she was pregnant and never allowed him to see his child? Watch it grow up? See if it was like him or more like her? What if she no longer trusted him completely because he had been so cruel to her this morning?

His chest began to ache. He missed Lois. He missed all the different ways she smiled at him. She missed the way she enfolded him into her arms, like she would protect his vulnerable heart from pain.

He sat up. That was another memory. He couldn’t remember the details, only that he had been despondent and that Lois had held him. Not Clark. Him. Kal. Superman. He jumped out of the seat and picked up the damaged futon mattress under one arm and walked out of the apartment and went to find his wife. He would deposit the mattress in the dumpster on his way out of the complex. He needed his wife. Lois. Her.

***

Lois’s heart was aching. She had done it again. Abandoned Clark again. Left him vulnerable and alone… well, not quite alone. Linda King was keeping him company. And he had let her. Even after Lois had told him that Linda was persona non grata in their lives.

She banged her head against her apartment door. Why hadn’t she just gotten out of the car and punched Linda in the nose? It would have made her feel better.

Because Lois Lane isn’t in a relationship with Superman. She’s married to Clark Kent.

She was beginning to think that Clark’s green-eyed monster had come to live inside her.

Sorry, no occupancy.

Except for the fact that her idiot of a husband was acting just as much of muttonhead as he had before she had told him that Tempus told her she and Superman were destined to be together. Had his green-eye monster just gone on vacation and had come back with a vengeance?

That sounds very likely.

She opened her front door and instantly saw that Clark had come home. Who else would take their damaged mattress?

“Clark?” Lois called, hoping he would answer. She refused to call him Kal anymore. She should never have done that in the first place. It had only made him more confused.

But Kal is one heck of a lover, Lois.

She shut the door behind her and sighed. Yep, that he was. A shot of lightning flashed through her inner core — a memory of their lovemaking from this morning. She shifted her position and pushed herself off the door. She was just too addicted to that man of hers.

Kal certainly seemed more open to experimentation than Clark… Lois didn’t know that. She and Clark hadn’t had enough time together as a couple to know if he liked trying new things. He had certainly liked all that foreplay with food.

At least when Clark recovers his memories, he’ll still retain Kal’s new skills.

She moaned in anticipation. A man with the memories of Clark and the sex-drive of Superman. Wow, she was one lucky woman. Unless he was off banging Linda at this very moment.

Kal would never cheat on you. He has Superman’s morals. He hadn’t even wanted to sleep with you even though you were his wife.

Some morals! He wasn’t above insulting her when his ego was damaged.

Gee, I don’t know anyone else like that. Oh, right. Clark.

Whoever her husband was, he wasn’t there. He had come home and then left. Why?

Like you, waiting isn’t one of his favorite pastimes.

At the desk she found Clark’s note to her.

Lois, Sorry about breaking your phone. I’ll call you at the Daily Planet. S.

Lois pressed her lips together. “S” not “C”, but at least not “K”.

She winced. The Daily Planet. Perry was going to kill her. She had been sent out on the story and hadn’t even gotten out of the car. What was the matter with her? She had finally gotten her dream job, and she was going to mess it up before she even started.

Or maybe her husband hadn’t stuck around the apartment because he hadn’t wanted to see her. She glanced over and saw the duffel bag still sat next to the closet where she had left it this morning. So, he hadn’t taken his clothes. If he had planned on staying, why did he take that old mattress? Unless… unless he was planning on camping out somewhere with it, knowing she was planning on getting rid of it? Her heart ached.

Why had he smashed the phone? Who did he call? And why had it made him angry? Why hadn’t he suggested that she call to him without a telephone? Did he not want to see her face to face? Or was it simply he didn’t remember that he could?

Maybe Lois should just call out to him and see if he came back. To whom should she call? Clark or Superman? Certainly not Kal. But would he come if she called to Clark? Not if this morning’s fight was anything to go by. After this morning’s performance she refused to call him Kal! What if he didn’t come? What if — like Clark — he thought she was treating him like a dog?

Lois sighed. Glancing down at the note in her hand. He was planning on calling her at the Daily Planet. He apologized for breaking her phone, but not for breaking her heart. She stuffed the note into her pocket and headed back to her car.

A part of her felt bad for leaving Jimmy at the crime scene she was supposed to be covering.

***

Friday — Mid-day

Clark wasn’t sure where he should go. He wanted to call Lois and meet up with her and apologize, but he had to give her time to get his messages. Either the one from Jimmy or the one he had left at the apartment. He hit his head with his hand. Why hadn’t he just waited for Lois at the apartment? He could have unloaded his clothes into the dresser. Her dresser. He sighed.

It was obvious that the apartment wasn’t theirs. Superman wasn’t even welcome there because of the tabloid reporters — like Nunk — stalking out the place. Anyway, Kal didn’t know if she would forgive him for all his blunders.

If you’re not him, how come you keep acting like the dense idiot I married? Lois had yelled at him as he had walked out the door.

Obviously Lois liked dense idiots, otherwise why would she marry one? He was curious what sort of dense idiot Clark had been… Kal shook his head. He had been when he was Clark. Kal winced. He really wasn’t sure who he was. He wasn’t Clark. But he was feeling less and less like a superman.

Kal needed to talk to someone about the best way to get Lois to forgive him. He passed a newsstand and noticed the headline on Friday’s Daily Planet: “Superman Came Home: Where Is He Now?” Good question.

He pulled out Clark’s wallet and saw that he had paper money. If he was going to make phone calls, he would need coins. And he was curious what the Daily Planet was saying about him.

***

Kal closed the paper. They were taking the word of the deliveryman from whom he had gotten the newspapers the previous morning. No hard facts, only a quote from the driver saying, “He was there one moment. Gone the next. It had to be him.” Well, they got that right. It had been him. There were quotes from other people who had seen him in the blue suit around Metropolis. If he was guilty of giving people false hope, so was the Daily Planet.

Only it wasn’t really false hope. Superman was “home”. He was alive. Did Perry White know this? Had Lois told her boss that Superman had returned? That she had seen him, spoken with him? Of course, she did. She must have talked to Mr. White about Clark, and according to the Kents, Perry White knew Clark was Superman. Was that the best thing for the paper to do, given his current mental weakness? Especially since Kal couldn’t even remember how to fly?

On the back of the paper was a list of want ads and lonely heart ads. Kal wondered if enough time had passed and he could call Lois at the paper. He browsed the ads trying to kill more time. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He had had a dull ache in his chest since he had walked out on her this morning. Frankly, he missed her.

There was a telephone not far from the bench on which he sat. He pulled a quarter out of his pocket and dialed the number on the card Jimmy had given him.

“Daily Planet. How may I direct your call?”

“Lois Lane, please. She should be…”

“Connecting…”

Oh, good. Kal exhaled.

“Hello?”

Lois! Oh, her voice sounded so sweet to his ears. He could hear her heart racing. Did she know it was him? Was she as nervous as he was?

“Hi, Lois. It’s Kal,” he said with an attempt to sound casual.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone with that name.” Click. Dial tone.

Kal stared at the receiver in his hand. What had just happened? He hung up. He stood there a full minute, kicking his heart around with his feet and trying to figure out what he should do next. He wondered if he should try again, only this time not use names. He picked up the receiver, dropped in another quarter, and redialed.

“Daily Planet. Cat Grant, speaking,” said a woman. A different person than the man who had answered before.

“May I speak with Lois Lane?”

“I don’t think she’s here. She hasn’t been in the office all week.”

Kal’s jaw just hung there. What? “No, that can’t be right. I just spoke to her a minute ago.”

“Actually, I can see her desk right now and it’s bare, like she hasn’t even taken possession of it yet. I bet she’s still out chasing Superman. Is there something I can help you with? Or do you want to leave a message?”

“I was just on the phone with her. We got disconnected,” he tried to convince Cat Grant. “Can you double check?”

Ms. Grant sighed heavily, and he heard her chair scoot out as she stood up. “Nope. Don’t see her. Who should I tell her called?”

“Ah…” A good question indeed. “Her husband.” Yes, that, at least, was correct with no sticky issues of names to mess anyone up.

“Husband?” Ms. Grant choked on the word. “Lois is married?”

“Yes.” Kal felt hesitant about saying the word, but he knew it was the truth. Lois was his wife.

“I can’t believe she would do that to…” He could hear the shock in this woman’s voice. “Lois has a secret life. Wow! Who would have thunk it? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Ian Harrington, would you?”

“Who?” He drew a complete blank.

“Never mind. There’s my other line. I’m expecting this call. I’ll let her know you phoned. Bye.”

“Could you…?” Click.

Kal threw his hands up. The Daily Planet had a serious problem with phone etiquette.

What now? Calling back a third time seemed pointless. Maybe Lois really didn’t want to talk to him. Maybe she had left. He had been rude this morning.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and felt a piece of paper. Oh, right. The page of the phone book. He remembered Jonathan Kent offering to come get him if he had any problems with Lois. Kal scoffed, remembering what he had thought in response. No matter what, he would make it work with Lois. That hadn’t lasted long, Kal, my boy, he said to himself.

He still had one quarter left, jingling in his pocket. Maybe Jonathan Kent would be able to give him some advice.

***

Lois stared at her hand sitting on the telephone.

What did you do?

She picked up the receiver again. “Hello?” Oh, please still be there. He wasn’t.

“What in Sam Hill was that?” snapped Perry, in whose office she stood.

“I don’t know what came over me. When he didn’t say he was Clark, memories of our fight this morning flooded through me…” Lois admitted, ashamed by her anger.

“And what was your fight about? If I may be so bold?” asked her boss.

Lois sat down in a chair. “He accused me of not loving him. Only loving Clark.”

Perry blinked once, then again. “Come again?”

She sighed. “He refuses to admit that he’s Clark, because he doesn’t have Clark’s memories. He says that Clark might as well be another person.”

The Chief raised a brow.

“Okay. I admit, I allowed him to continue down that path instead of steering him onto the correct one,” Lois conceded, feeling honestly chagrined under her boss’s gaze. “But I didn’t want to upset him or scare him off. I just hoped his memories — his Clark memories, his memories of us — would return before I had to explain my actions. When he recalled the fact that sunshine recharged him this morning, I got too excited and assumed that all his memories were back. He got angry, saying that I didn’t love him, that I only wanted my husband back, and then he stormed out.”

Perry shook his head. “You need to fix this, Lois.”

“I know.” She ran a hand across her forehead. “Do you think he’ll call back?” she asked hopefully.

“Can’t say, darling. You have something he wants, so he might.”

Lois’s heart beat against her ribs. “What? What could I possibly have that he wants?”

“You.” And then her boss smiled. “I’ve never seen a man more in love.”

“That was Clark. We’re talking about… you-know-who, now,” she contested.

“Right. And what alias was he hiding under at the police station? Charlie King, wasn’t it? And who called here looking for Lois Lane yesterday morning, before Henderson picked him up? Charlie King. He loves you, honey.”

There was a light rap on Perry’s office door. It was Jimmy. Perry waved him inside.

Lois jumped to her feet. “Is it Clark? What line is he on?”

“Um… Lois, didn’t I just transfer CK to you?” said a perplexed Jimmy.

“No,” Lois growled. “It wasn’t him.”

A red flush crept up Jimmy’s neck to his cheeks. “Geez, Lois. I’m sorry. I was sure that was CK. Um… Chief, Alice on line two.”

Perry double finger pointed at the young photographer. “You got those Superman photos I asked for?”

Jimmy gulped. “You asked for Superman photos?”

“Great shades of Elvis! Weren’t you listening at the meeting this morning? Everyone was supposed to get me anything and everything on Superman? He’s still our top story. You ran into him at Mazik’s. Where are the photos?”

Lois turned and shot her boss a glare. He knew as well as she did that Superman wasn’t up for interviews. How could he sic his bloodhounds on him?

Yes, but Perry’s not supposed to know that Clark is Superman. He’s just covering for Clark by acting like the editor of this newspaper would.

Right.

“Um… Chief. I asked if I could take his picture, but he said that CK was his top priority. And since he hadn’t helped out at the jewelry store, he said it wouldn’t be fair to the MPD if I took his picture.” Jimmy shot his boss a nervous grin. “Then he ran off to look for CK.”

“You asked to take his picture?” Perry threw up his hands. “You are a news photographer now, Jimmy. You don’t ask! Next time you get the chance just take the photo.” Their boss growled in frustration and kicked them both out of his office. “Lois, get me the piece on the robbery.”

“Yes, Chief,” Lois replied, shutting the door behind her. She glanced at the desk that Perry had given her the other night when she had typed up her story about Superman, Nightfall, and the nuclear bomb. She saw Cat Grant at the neighboring desk grab her purse and hightail it to the elevators. At least Lois wouldn’t have to talk to her.

I wonder why Superman didn’t fly off.

Lois touched Jimmy’s shoulder.

“The Chief’s right, you know, Lois. I should have just taken Superman’s picture. It’s just — I was in awe of him — you know, talking to Superman. I was in fan mode, not news mode.” He shook his head. “It was a stupid mistake. Amateurish.”

“I understand, Jimmy. That blue suit has a tendency to distract one,” she told him.

Mission accomplished.

“What’s this about Superman running off?” she continued.

“Ah, yeah. We talked about you and Clark for a minute and then he jogged to the corner…”

Superman jogged?

“He didn’t fly off?” Lois inquired more specifically.

“Well, I didn’t hear that familiar swoosh, now that you mention it. No, I think he just ran off. Huh?” Jimmy thought about that. “Do you think he’s injured? Not able to fly?”

Was that why he wouldn’t go get wine last night?

“Good question. And it’s something I plan on asking him the next time we meet up,” Lois told her friend. “Why don’t we keep this between us for the moment until we have more information?”

Jimmy coughed. “Um… About that, Lois. Why didn’t you talk to Superman this morning?”

Lois glanced away. “I told you, Jimmy. Mazik’s is where Clark and I bought our wedding rings.”

“And it didn’t have anything to do with Linda King?” Jimmy inquired.

Yes, it had everything to do with bitch from hell.

“Maybe. A little bit. That woman just pushes my buttons,” Lois admitted. “I should write up that robbery article while I wait for Clark’s call.”

If he decides you’re worth calling back after you hung up on him.

***

“MJ’s Café. How can I help you?” said a sweet and friendly feminine voice.

Was this his mom? Kal didn’t think so. In as much as Kal fell in love at first hug with Martha Kent, it was her husband with whom he wanted to speak.

“Is Jonathan Kent available?” he asked tentatively.

“Hold on, sweetie. Jonathan! Your son is on the phone,” she called to Clark’s father.

So much for discretion. So much for Superman ever calling anyone Clark knew on the phone.

“I’ll take it in my office,” he heard Clark’s father respond. At least one person understood privacy.

“Hold on, deary,” the woman said to him.

There were a few moments of silence before Jonathan picked up. “Hello?”

Was Jonathan Kent having as much difficulty knowing how to address him as he was having addressing Mr. Kent?

“Hello, Sir. You told me that if ever I needed to, I could contact you,” Kal said much more confidently than he felt.

“Clark,” Jonathan said with a slight catch in his throat. “Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“I’m not quite sure where I am,” Kal admitted. He was in a small park across the street from a large bookstore. Mr. Kent would probably know if he described it, but that wasn’t why he had called.

“What can I do for you, son?” Mr. Kent asked Kal.

Kal really wanted to ask Clark’s father about MDS, but instead blurted out, “What kind of idiot was Clark?”

“My son is not an idiot,” replied Jonathan forcefully. “Did someone say he… you are?”

“Well…” Kal cleared his throat, wishing he hadn’t brought up the subject in the way he had. “Lois said something about me acting just like Clark…”

“You are Clark,” Jonathan reminded him and then he chuckled. “You have always had a bit of a stubborn streak.”

Stubborn? Kal thought they were talking intelligence. He shook his head. “Why would Lois call me a dense idiot then?” he asked. Technically, she had said that Clark was one, but he felt he had insulted this man’s son enough.

“Ah,” said Jonathan as if he knew to what Kal was referring. Kal could hear the man’s chair squeak as if he leaned back in it. “Son, Lois wasn’t calling you an idiot as in someone who is stupid — well, not stupid, per se…”

“Huh?” Kal was completely lost.

“A dense idiot is women-talk for a man who is stupid when it comes to women,” Jonathan explained.

“Oh.” Kal considered this information for a moment. “But we made love and…” Oh, God! Did he just admit to Clark’s father that he had made love to his daughter-in-law? What was wrong with him? Some Superman! “What I meant to say is that she asked me to…” He winced, thinking that wasn’t much better. “I mean…” What did he mean?

“And?” Jonathan inquired.

“And?” Kal repeated back weakly and most certainly with embarrassment. “And what?”

“I’m confused, son. You mentioned that you and Lois made love — all well and good. She’s your wife and it’s allowed. What else did you want to say?”

Kal cleared his throat and spoke more softly. “She seemed to like it?” he stated unsurely.

“She did or she didn’t?”

“Oh, no. She liked it,” Kal pushed through his embarrassment. “Very much so, Sir.”

Jonathan laughed. “Glad to hear it, son. What seems to be the problem?”

“Why would she call me a dense idiot then?” If he could give Lois pleasure, he couldn’t possibly be stupid about women. Right?

“Son, a dense idiot is a man who doesn’t understand women. A man can be good in bed and still not comprehend one iota about how to treat a woman.”

“Oh.” Kal thought about this clarification. “There are men who understand women?”

He heard Jonathan slap the table while he laughed. When he could speak again, Clark’s dad said, “No, son. None of us do. Some of us are better at faking it than others.”

Kal smiled. At least he wasn’t alone with this affliction. “What in particular did Clark do to earn him this title with Lois?” He wondered if Clark had used to speak to his dad about these topics. Or was it only with amnesia that he had suddenly felt comfortable enough with their relationship to delve in.

Jonathan had stopped laughing, but his voice seemed to indicate that he was still enjoying this conversation. “Son,” Clark’s father said with seriousness. “You need to stop referring to yourself in the third person. You are Clark.”

“Right.” Kal sighed. Another true believer. Was he being stubborn?

“Well, there was the time that you were upset with something that Lois did and you called her a streetwalker,” Jonathan told him.

Kal winced. Clark had called Lois a whore? She had been right; he was a dense idiot. “Why would she marry him… me then? And so quickly? They… we had dated for such a short amount of time before rushing off and getting married.”

“Love.”

“Love?” Kal couldn’t believe it would be that simple. “That’s it? How did they… we know it was forever-and-ever love?”

“How does anyone?” replied Jonathan.

“You weren’t surprised when Clark… I announced we were getting married? After dating for only… only…” Kal did some math in his head from the stories that Lois had told him the night before. “Two or three weeks?”

“We figured something was up when Lois stopped by to get your birth certificate,” Jonathan told him. “Maybe it was a little faster than normal, but we knew how much you loved Lois. Your mother was convinced that Lois was also in love with you. Plus there was all that stuff about you and her being preordained to be together and…”

“What?” Kal hadn’t expected this. “Preordained?”

“Well, back before you and Lois started dating, a couple of men from the future stopped by the store and told Lois that she was destined to marry her true love, who happened to a super fast, super strong, flying alien in a blue suit.”

Kal gulped. That did sound an awful lot like him. Were these the same men that Lois had mentioned the night before? Must be. He just couldn’t believe they were real. He was a super fast, super strong alien in a blue suit, and to some people that must be pretty unbelievable too. And supposedly he could fly. He sighed. He was good at going up, but even better at coming down.

“We knew it had to be true, because we heard about it on the very day that your mother had put the finishing touches on your blue suit. You hadn’t even seen it yet. It was obvious to me that you had fallen in love with Lois already.” Jonathan chuckled. “You were so happy just being around her, you couldn’t keep your feet on the ground. Literally.”

“I floated?” Kal was suddenly twice as interested in this conversation. Maybe his father knew the answer to his flying problems.

“‘Think happy thoughts!’ Isn’t that what Peter Pan says is the only way to fly?”

“Who?” Did he know someone else who could fly? Happy thoughts? “Really?”

“Sorry, son. I forgot there for a second. Peter Pan is a character in a children’s book you used to love as a child. Martha must have read it to you a hundred times,” his father explained.

Kal glanced over to the bookstore across the street. Maybe he should check it out. “Thanks, Dad, you’ve been a lot of help.”

Jonathan Kent seemed almost choked up as he replied, “Anytime, son. Would you like me to come pick you up and take you home?”

“Oh, no. I can figure out my way back to the apartment, but… but after the way I treated Lois this morning, I don’t think she wants me back,” Kal told him. So much for ‘happy thoughts.’

“Son, Lois loves you. She called here earlier looking for you. She wants you to come home,” said his father.

“She does?” Kal was perplexed. “Then why did she hang up on me when I called her at the Daily Planet?”

“She did?” Even Jonathan seemed confused. “What exactly did you say?”

“I said, ‘Hi, Lois, it’s Kal.’ And she said, ‘I don’t know anyone by that name’ and hung up,” he explained.

“And do you think she would have done the same thing if you had said, ‘Hi, Lois, it’s Clark’?” asked Jonathan slowly.

Kal sighed. “No, I guess not. Since it’s Clark she really wants.” He rolled his eyes; still not understanding why Lois preferred that bespectacled idiot over him. “But when I called back, Lois had already left.”

“Son. You. Are. Clark,” Jonathan told him once more.

“Yes, I understand that in theory, but without my Clark memories I feel like an imposter.”

“That’s just the amnesia talking, son. In essentials, you are still our son. Kind and generous. Caring and loving. Helpful and courteous. Curious and loyal.”

He forgot in love with Lois. “Stubborn and a dense idiot?” Kal suggested with a laugh.

Jonathan joined in with his laughter. “Nobody’s perfect. Not even you, son.”

***

Lois turned in her story to Perry. It wasn’t great. It wouldn’t earn her any prizes. Actually, she would be surprised if it didn’t end up buried on page three of the city section. She had done her job — not to the best of her ability, but she had done it nonetheless.

“Any word from Clark?” her boss asked her as he looked over the paper she had handed to him.

Lois shook her head. “I’m heading out to see if I can find him,” she lied. Honestly, she had no idea where to look for him. She just didn’t want to sit around the office waiting for a call that might never come. And she still needed to buy a new futon mattress to replace the other one if she wanted to sleep that night. Well, go to bed. Sleep would be debatable.

“Tell you what,” Perry said, reaching into a drawer in his desk and pulling out a beeper. “If Clark calls in or another big story happens where Superman might show up, we’ll beep you.”

Lois looked down at the small electronic device in her hand. “Thank you, Perry. I really appreciate…”

“We need that Nightfall interview before someone else realizes he’s back. You find him, call in, and have him pose for pictures. You owe me one. Got it?”

Lois nodded and then reminded her boss, “I can’t interview him about Nightfall until he’s remembers it.”

“Then hit him in the head until he remembers it!” hollered Perry.

Like that would do a whole heck of a lot of good.

Lois raised a skeptical eyebrow at this suggestion.

“Between your exclusive that Superman actually destroyed Nightfall and that mood piece we did interviewing people who had seen him walking around town in his blue suit, we’re looking more like a gossip rag than a newspaper. We need proof that Superman is back. We need him to verify your story. And we need Superman protecting Metropolis again to knock Metropolis Star off its axis for suggesting that Superman died in space. Those are the cold hard facts.”

“I just need my husband back,” Lois responded. “Everything else would be gravy.”

“And we need Clark back so I’m not down two reporters!” yelled Perry. “Now, get out of here and find Clark! And know that neither of you are getting a day off for at least six months.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Lois, backing out of her boss’s office. If she got Clark back, they wouldn’t need to leave town to make her life feel like a vacation.

***

Kal went inside the bookstore and after a quick glance around, he hopped onto the up escalator. Another quick glance around the mezzanine level and he headed upstairs again. As he stood on the escalator, he realized he forgot to ask Clark’s father what MDS was and if the man had his wedding ring.

“Yo, Kent!” called some guy going down the escalator opposite him. “Daily Planet send you back to the minors already?” Then the guy chortled.

Kal had no idea what that guy was talking about. The Daily Planet was a newspaper, not a baseball team. Had the newspaper hired him for his skills at sports? That seemed strange and unprofessional. But, knowing his strength, not unlikely.

He stepped off the escalator and took a look around the top level of the store. Bookcases to the right of him. Bookcases to the left of him. How could he find one book in this sea? He saw a sign for the Children’s section against the far wall and headed towards it.

“Clark?” he heard a voice call out. Kal ignored it, hoping the person would think they were wrong.

“Clark Kent!” she called out again.

Kal winced. He wasn’t going to escape her was he? He slowed his gait and turned around to smile politely at the pretty brunette woman who was approaching him.

“I thought that was you,” she said.

Darn! She hadn’t been positive on his identity, he could have ignored her.

“Hello,” he said, hoping he could fake a short enough conversation with her and escape without her discovering that he had no idea who she was.

“But, then again, a girl doesn’t forget the first man who made her orgasm during breakfast.”

Kal’s eyes bugged. He had done what with this woman? “Excuse me?”

She laughed and patted him on the arm, reassuringly. “What are you doing out and about without your memories, Clark?”

His jaw fell open this time. “Who are you?”

She gave him a saucy smile and extended her hand. “Lucy Lane, your sister-in-law.”

Now that she had said that, he could see the familial traits in this woman’s face. Kal tentatively shook her hand, before lowering his voice, “Are you saying that I cheated on Lois with you?”

Lucy gave a full-throated laugh. “Like either of us would be alive after such a scenario. Lois would have filleted us alive and hung our entrails on a staff as a warning to others.”

He blanched and gulped at her description. “So, you are saying that Lois gets jealous then?”

“She’s just a bit possessive of her belongings,” Lucy clarified.

Belongings? Kal liked the idea that he belonged with Lois. “Then that comment about breakfast…?”

She was laughing again. “Martha’s taught you a thing or two in the kitchen, Clark. You’re an amazing cook.”

Kal exhaled in relief. Lucy had been teasing the amnesiac. That seemed to be quite the hobby. He was relieved, but not at all amused. “I understand you are kind of, sort of dating Jimmy.” He might not have any memories, but he did remember everything since he had lost them.

Lucy shrugged. “He’s a sweet puppy.”

Poor Jimmy. He had liked the kid. But two very different women had described him as a puppy. Not good.

“So, Clark,” Lucy said, changing the subject. “What are you doing back at your old stomping grounds?”

His brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Daily Books. This is where you and Lois met. She told me all about it the other night. She said that she worked the newsstand and you delivered books and magazines with MDS.”

Kal must have given her a blank look, because she went on. “Metropolis Delivery Service.”

“Ah.” Finally, he knew for what MDS stood. But this wasn’t exactly the same story Lois had told him the night before. “We met here?”

“Yeah, Jimmy introduced you two in the back room,” she replied with a jab of her thumb towards a door with a pushbutton lock on it. “Lois told me all about it.”

He felt bad that he hadn’t recognized Jimmy at all. Although, Jimmy hadn’t recognized him as Superman either, which was good. It had probably been for the best since Superman hadn’t officially met Jimmy until this morning. Could it be just a coincidence that Kal ended up at the same bookstore where Clark met Lois? Was his subconscious mind taking him to places familiar to him, hoping to nudge a memory or two free?

“Did she tell you why we got married so quickly?” he asked her. That little fact was driving him insane.

Lucy lowered her voice. “This probably isn’t the best place to be discussing your relationship with my sister.” She threw him a pointed look.

Did Lucy Lane know that he was Superman? Clark’s parents had said that most people didn’t know. As far as they knew only Lois, themselves, and Perry White knew. Had Lois told her sister? Had Clark’s folks told Lucy?

“Tell you what,” she went on. “I’ll help you find whatever it is you’re looking for and then I’ll clock out. We’ll go across the street and share this amazing lunch your mom packed for me. There is way too much food for just one person anyway. And I’ll tell you everything I know about your relationship with my sister. Okay?”

Kal was so ecstatic that he reached over and hugged her. “Thank you!”

“Okay. Okay,” Lucy said, pushing out of his embrace. “I’ve only met you the one time and… What the hell! You’re family.” She grabbed him again and hugged him. “Mmmm-mmmm. I definitely know why Lois married you.”

He stepped back away from her. He might not have known much at the moment, but he knew what she meant by that.

Lucy smiled innocently at him. “You hug divinely.”

Yeah, right, sure, that’s what she meant. He wasn’t buying it.

Her smile turned mischievous. “And Lois has always had a soft spot for men who could hug.”

Kal raised an eyebrow at this woman, not knowing whether or not he should trust her. Or was she just teasing the amnesiac again?

“What are you looking for? Let me guess? A map book of Metropolis? I recommend the Thomas Guide. They’re the best,” Lucy said, actually skipping backwards and yet not breaking eye contact with him.

How did Lucy do that? Without hitting anything? Did she have eyes on the back on her head? Kal cautiously followed this strange woman.

As far as he knew Clark was an only child; certainly Kal was an only Kryptonian child. He could hear himself telling Lois, “I always wanted a brother or a sister.”

Then he could hear Lois’s voice inside his head, responding, “You can have mine.”

A small smile hinted at the side of his mouth at this thought, this memory. He guessed Lucy was kind-of his sister now too. He would be more careful what he wished for in the future.

Lucy stopped in the Local section and pulled said map book off the shelf, holding it up for him. “So you can’t get lost.”

He hadn’t been planning on buying a map book, but now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a pretty good idea. At least for the short term. Long term, he could leave it in Lois’s car… if she had a car. She had been driving a car when she left Mazik’s Jewelry, so she must have a car.

So, he would leave the map book in Lois’s car, if she gave him another chance, that is. He wondered how much of a dense idiot he could be and still be forgiven by his wife? It wasn’t a theory he wanted to test. He smiled politely at Lucy and said, “Sold. But I actually came in to find a book my father mentioned was one of my favorites as a child… Peter Pan. Ever heard of it?” He glanced at her hopefully.

Lucy patted his cheek. “You are so adorable, I could just eat you up.”

Kal swallowed and took a step back away from her reach. “Never mind. I’m sure I’ll find it myself.”

“Wait!” Lucy told him. “I’m sorry, Clark. This whole brother/sister-in-law thing is all new to me. I’m not quite sure how to act. I don’t have much experience interacting with Lois’s beaux, you know. No, I guess you wouldn’t know. Well, she didn’t have very many of them.” Lucy returned to the main aisle and headed directly to the Children’s section. “Did you want a picture book, story book, movie tie-in, Disney version, or the play?” she asked.

“Huh?”

Lucy’s speed talking had him reeling. Kal hadn’t known anyone could talk that fast.

“Everyone knows who Peter Pan is, Clark.” Lucy smiled indulgently at him. “He’s the little boy who never grew up.” They had reached the Children’s section now. “Picture books, I think, would be best. It was written by J. M. Barrie, and he gave all his proceeds from his play to a children’s hospital in London. I played Tiger Lily in the Smallville High School production.” She winked at him.

Lucy had completely lost him again and he tried to keep his polite smile on his face. He had only been listening with half an ear. His mind stuck on the fact that Lois hadn’t had many boyfriends. His sister-in-law scanned the large bookshelf and he found himself in awe at the selection of stories for children.

Finally, Lucy pulled out a book and held it up to him. “I think you’ll like this one. The pictures seem the most fantastic.”

Kal shifted the map book under his arm so he could look at the picture book with both hands. It seemed almost ridiculous to be researching his own trouble with flying by reading a children’s book, but as soon as he opened the book he was mesmerized. Fairies and pirates and Indians and mermaids and lost boys and the Darling children. He closed the book with a satisfied sigh.

“Happy thoughts and fairy dust,” he murmured to himself with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Then he realized that Lucy was still standing next to him, watching him. He cleared his throat. “I can see why I liked this story as a child.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a brother?” she asked him.

“I don’t think so. The Kents said that I was adopted. That I had been abandoned.” In a spaceship, but no need to harp on the details. “Why? Do I remind you of someone?” he asked as he handed the book back to her.

“Why don’t you buy it?” she suggested. “I’d buy it for you, but I’m flat broke.”

“I’m afraid I’m not much better off,” he admitted with a sigh. “I was fired from MDS this morning.”

“MDS?” Lucy seemed confused. “So what? Don’t you work at that newspaper of Mr. White’s… The Daily Planet?… now?”

“Do I? That’s what Cl… my father said, too. But… But…” He felt so lost. How could he be a newspaper reporter when he couldn’t even remember a world-famous children’s book? It would be like being a deliveryman without knowing the streets of Metropolis. Or a superhero who could not fly. Useless.

Lucy put the book back on the shelf and grabbed the crook of his arm, leading him from the Children’s section. “Come on. You can buy that book another time. Let’s get you the map book for today. I think it will be most helpful.”

After he had purchased the map book, with Lucy’s employee discount — thank you, new sister — Kal waited at the railing overlooking the ground floor as Lucy went to clock-out. As he stared downstairs at the newsstand — or what of it he could see from the third floor without using his x-ray vision — Kal imagined seeing Lois down there, wearing a white, lacy dress. He could see other men coming up and speaking with her, but for the most part she gave them the brush-off. Then Lois had looked up at him. There had been something in her expression that told him how much she loved him — and it wasn’t a little. And how if she could fly she would float right up to him and…

“Hi!” Lucy’s voice knocked him out of his daydream. “Ready?”

Kal swallowed, wishing Lucy had given him just a moment longer with his thoughts. As it was, the image drained away like water through his fingers. “Yes.”

Soon, they were sitting on the bench in the park across the street. Lucy pulled out a chicken sandwich from a cooler. “Would you like half?” she asked with a chuckle. “It’s way too much for me. I think Martha’s used to making your lunch, because…” She flipped open the cooler and showed him the Gatorade, huge bag of chips, and Ding Dong that had accompanied the sandwich.

It didn’t seem too large of a lunch to him. “Thank you,” Kal said as she handed him half the sandwich.

“Here. Take these too. After that breakfast this morning, I’m really not that hungry,” she said, tossing him the chips.

“Thank you,” he repeated, realizing that he hadn’t had breakfast this morning. “You’re too generous.”

Lucy winked at him. “You’re the only brother I’ve got. I’d like to keep you around for a while. I mean, Lois is great and everything, but I’ve always wanted a big brother.” She grinned. “And trust me, I’ve tried to trade Lois in, numerous times, but I’ve had no takers.”

Kal raised a brow, not knowing whether Lucy was joking or serious. He opened the bag of chips.

“I don’t have to tell you, right? I mean, you aren’t thinking of walking out on Lois, right?”

He blanched. He had already done that, hadn’t he? Walked out on Lois? All he wanted to do was walk back in. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to do that though.

“Because you’re the best thing that happened to Lois since…” Lucy paused in thought and then sighed. “Ever. She’s had a pretty rotten streak when it comes to guys.”

Kal couldn’t understand that. He envisioned men lined up for the chance to go out with Lois. Those big doe eyes. That killer body. Her smile. Her laugh. Her lightning fast wit and mind. Her refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer attitude. Not to mention the way words sounded together when she wrote. “You said you’d tell me why Lois married me,” he said, directing his sister-in-law from going down the wrong conversational path.

Lucy took a bite of her sandwich. “Because she loves you, of course.”

It wasn’t the answer he had expected, especially after her warning inside the store. He dipped his hand into the bag of chips and brought a couple of pieces of salty goodness to his lips. The next moment he felt his heart race as Lois replaced her sister on the bench next to him. He could feel the warmth of the sunshine and saw how it made Lois’s skin radiate beauty as it caressed her face.

As soon as he swallowed down the chips the image of Lois was gone. He reached his hand back into the bag as Lucy continued speaking, entirely unaware what was happening to the man next to her.

“I mean, if you were Superman, why Lois married you would be a completely different story, but since you’re not…” She shrugged. “There’s no other reason except love. I mean, it’s not like Lois is pregnant.” Lucy laughed and then covered her mouth as her eyes went big. “Ooops. I wasn’t supposed to know that.” She tossed him a huge, pleading grin. “Don’t tell Lois I told you.”

Kal raised an eyebrow. Those potato chips in his hand were on the verge of bringing that sexy picture of Lois back to the forefront of his mind. But he wouldn’t let himself be distracted, and he dropped the chips back into the bag. Lucy had brought up two topics that needed further evaluation. “Excuse me?”

Lucy leaned closer to him and whispered, “The first time you and my sister made love was on your wedding night.”

Kal gulped and felt a flush crawl up his neck to his face. “Oh.” Nope, he hadn’t known that.

Lucy certainly knew the details of his and Lois’s relationship he was missing. But he wasn’t sure he should be picking them up third-hand. His curiosity won out as he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Why? Were we saving ourselves for marriage?”

Lucy seemed thrilled to fill in the missing pieces. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I know Lois hadn’t and you?…” She looked him over from head to toes, then shook her head. “Nope. Impossible. You’re too cute not to have had some woman jump your bones at some point.”

He knew his cheeks must have reddened at this examination. If Linda King was anything to go by, Superman didn’t do so badly with the ladies… only Superman hadn’t shown up until after Clark and Lois were already dating. The other little thing that Lucy had said about Superman was nagging to be asked, but Kal wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it without Lucy connecting him to the man in blue. Finally, he just said, “I’m loveable, but Superman isn’t?”

“No. No. No. I didn’t mean it like that. And this is all conjecture, mind you, because Lois loves you. Head-over-heels in love…”

Every time someone said those words to him he felt the rug being pulled out from under him again. Lois loved him, and he accused her of not doing just that this very morning. He felt guiltier by the moment.

“What I meant was she’d marry Superman just because of his not being able to get hurt thing,” Lucy went on with a wave of her hand to wipe the idea out of the air.

“Invulnerability?” Kal’s jaw dropped. That didn’t make any sense, and he told Lucy so.

“Well, it’s not important. She didn’t marry him, she married you. I was just saying if he were sitting on this bench at this moment instead of you…”

“Why do think Lois would want to marry a man who couldn’t be hurt? Is she violent? A deranged killer or something?” he asked, pulling the Gatorade out of the cooler and taking a large gulp. He knew his words couldn’t be true, but he had to know what Lucy had meant by saying Lois wouldn’t have married Superman for love.

“No. Of course not. But Lois… You see Lois…” Lucy pressed her lips together with a pained expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, Clark. I don’t want you blaming Lois for…” His sister-in-law truly looked sick.

“What? Please, tell me. I love your sister more than anything. Please,” he was practically begging. Who was he kidding? He was begging. “I only want to understand her better.”

Lucy sighed. “Okay. But promise me you won’t blame Lois for your memory problems.”

“My memory? That has nothing to do with Lois.” Kal had no idea where Lucy was headed.

“I told you that Lois hasn’t had a lot of experience with guys, right? Well, there’s a reason for this. She’s jinxed.”

“Jinxed?” Okay. That wasn’t what he expected either.

“You know, bad luck. Lois has dated three, maybe four, guys… well, dated is the wrong word. Slept with. The first one died.”

“Died?” he gasped. Wasn’t that what Linda had said? “Did she…?” He couldn’t believe the words had even formed in his head. Of course, Lois hadn’t killed him.

“Lois had nothing to do with it,” Lucy reassured him. “The guy got bitten by a snake while camping. Lois was devastated by the whole event. She blamed herself for some reason. The next guy was in college, the student editor of the university paper. Lois had gone to him when one of her so-called ‘friends’ stole an article she had been working on. The next day, he threw her off the school paper, accusing her of trying to sleep her way onto the front-page.”

Kal winced. Not quite the same story Linda had told him. He knew that there had been something off with Linda’s version of the events. Lucy’s third-hand account made much more sense. No wonder Lois didn’t want him speaking of Linda, to Linda, or — and he winced again — suggesting that Linda was the person he apparently pictured while making love to Lois. Not that he ever would. He set down his sandwich. Now he knew why Lois had gotten so upset with him the previous afternoon when he had made that comparison.

“I’m not sure Lois ever really dated the next guy. I mean, she told Mom they were dating and, well, that might have been just to shut Mom up. All of us at the high school had assumed Mr. Blank wasn’t interested in women, if you know what I mean.”

Kal did and nodded for her to continue.

“Anyway, they were like this…” She put two fingers next to each other. “They ate out, watched videos in together, went to high school plays together, and even sporting events. That sort of thing. At the end of the school year, he got an offer to teach at a private school in Kansas City. Lois told me that they had just been friends, but…” Lucy shrugged. “Lois might have just been covering the heartache in discovering her boyfriend wasn’t really her boyfriend after all. Or worse, that she had sent him off to bat for the other team. A woman’s worst nightmare.”

He realized when Lucy said that Lois had ‘bad luck’ with men, she really meant ‘horrible luck.’ These were the men with whom Lois had shared herself? Opened up to? Made herself vulnerable to? He was beginning to think he fit along with this group just nicely. And it wasn’t a feeling he liked.

“Well, the last guy was some roving salesman that came into Smallville a couple of times a month. They started dating and one thing led to another… It turned out the guy was married. Lois only found out about it when he told her afterward. She was livid, as you can well imagine. Anyway, his wife left him. Lois blamed herself for the break-up of the guy’s marriage.”

“That wasn’t her fault. He sounds like a real creep to me,” Kal told her.

“You and me both,” Lucy agreed with a scowl.

“I still don’t understand why you’d think Lois would have married…” Kal wanted to say ‘me,’ but there was a reason they hadn’t told Lucy he was Superman, even if he didn’t know what it was. He was suspecting it had to do with her tendency towards gossip. “Why would she have been attracted to his invulnerability?”

“This is totally my theory, mind you. But, in her mind, Lois killed that first guy — literally. Killed her aspirations and a man’s integrity with the second. Killed a man’s desires for women with the third. And killed a man’s marriage with the fourth.” Lucy sighed. “And, right about now, she’s probably thinking she killed your memories.”

“That’s not true!” Kal defended his wife.

“See why I could have seen her rush into a marriage with the Man of Steel, because every man she touches seems to die in some way or another.”

“And Superman is invulnerable and can’t get hurt,” Kal stated. That was a load of crock. An ache burned in the pit of his stomach. “What can I do, Lucy? To reassure Lois?” He was at a loss on how to be forgiven by a woman who had been hurt so badly in the past.

Lucy grabbed the Ding Dongs out of the cooler, tore open the package, and handed one to Kal. “A grand gesture. Lois needs to see that you see a future for the two of you, even if you can’t see the past.”

Kal bit into the chocolaty cupcake, savoring the whipped cream center. A grand gesture, huh? He needed to tell Lois that no matter what, he wanted them to be together. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. That he loved her with or without his memories. He nodded. That was something he could do. How? That was another dilemma.

Lucy dusted off her hands. “I’ve got to head back to work. Do you want me to call Lois to come pick you up? Or Jimmy? Or the Kents?” she asked.

He patted the bag with his new map book inside. “I think I can find my way home now. Lois is probably busy at the Daily Planet anyway. I wouldn’t want to bother her.” Truthfully, he wanted to consider how to show Lois his ‘big gesture’ first.

“Okay. Good luck,” Lucy said with a wave. She dashed quickly across the street to the store. She turned and waved at him once more from the door before disappearing inside.

Lucy may have taken the cooler with her but she had left him with the Gatorade, chips, and the last few bites of his half of the sandwich. Without thinking, Kal pulled a handful of potato chips out of the bag and started to nibble on them.

Suddenly, that image of Lois sitting next to him in the sunshine was back. They were both sitting on this bench, having lunch. She had been eating potato chips too. He watched as her hand had dipped into the bag and the chips were brought to her lips. Then her tongue had come out of her mouth and licked her lips. He hadn’t blamed it in the least. He had wanted to lick those lips as well.

Lois had sighed. “There’s something about the rain — heavy rain — like we had the other night…” She had shivered.

Kal had continued to watch her, wondering if it had been him that had scared her when he had rescued her that night in the rain.

“But the sun,” Lois had continued. “The sun, like this, recharges my batteries. Makes me feel like I can take on the world. Do you know what I mean?”

He knew exactly what she had meant. He had felt an impulse to pull Lois into his arms and kiss her, but he had resisted. “Yeah,” he had finally replied, leaning his back against the bench. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Then one after another of her fingers had disappeared into her mouth to suck off the salt.

Kal moaned to himself as he remembered making love to his wife the previous night. He couldn’t think of anything else as he slowly, painstakingly ate chip after chip just to keep that memory of Lois at the forefront of his mind. Him in the present and Lois — all those weeks earlier — ate that entire bag of chips together.

***

Friday — Mid-Afternoon

Lois handed the cashier her credit card with her lips pressed together. So much for having paid down her bill last month. If this kept up, she would start seriously considering accepting that settlement offer from Lexco for Lex kidnapping her a couple of weeks ago. But she didn’t want Lexco to think she owed them — or that they owned her as a journalist — by accepting said offer. As it was there was only about a grand left from the wedding money her father had given her. She heard a strange beeping noise emerge from her purse.

“Sounds like your beeper,” said the salesman, and Lois’s heart jumped into her throat.

Clark!

“May I borrow your phone?” she asked, pulling out the beeper and glancing at the number. She showed the salesman the number and he dialed. He owed her that much after the purchase she had just made.

“Daily Planet. James Olsen speaking,” said Jimmy on the other end of the line.

“Jimmy! Did Clark call?”

“Yeah. That was quick, Lois. Yeah. It was really funny. When I said that you weren’t here he asked to speak to me or Perry. Do you think he’s gotten his memory back?” Jimmy asked.

“I can only hope so,” Lois replied. “What did he say?” She pulled out a notepad and a pen and wrote down the address Clark had left for her.

***

Lois climbed up the last flight of stairs and paused outside the double set of glass doors. As much as she wanted to run inside, she took a deep breath. Her husband owed her an explanation before she ran into his arms.

Don’t you mean an apology?

She opened the door. Clark and some portly man stood in the middle of a very dusty, extremely dirty, run-down room cluttered with debris. She had been expecting Clark to be alone and the addition of this other man threw her.

“What is this place?” she asked with disgust.

Weren’t you going to stay quiet until he apologized?

Clark ignored her question and introduced her to the man next to him. “Floyd, this is my wife, Lois.”

Floyd looked back and forth between them. “How about I give you a few minutes?” the man said with a jingle of old fashioned keys.

Lois passed him on the steps that led from the front door down to the room where Clark stood.

At the door, Floyd sighed and said in a mock-optimistic tone, “Take all the time you need, even the weekend. My wife’s cousin is getting married on Sunday and we’ll be busy with that.” Then he rolled his eyes like it was the last thing in the world he wanted to be doing during the last weekend of September.

Take all the time to do what? Leave?

“Thank you, Floyd,” Clark said, resting his hand on the decorative end of the banister. It came off in his hand. “Would you mind if we made a few repairs?”

Floyd looked at the knob. “I guess not,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

Repairs? Can’t we just condemn the place and go home?

Clark set down the knob and spread out his arms in a ta-da manner, a big grin stretched from one ear to the other. “So, what do you think?”

Lois crossed her arms, pressed her lips together, and raised an eyebrow.

What did you think of what?

Clark dropped his hands — apparently in defeat — but then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her around the room. “Lois, you need to look past the dust, past the stacks of old newspapers, the empty paint cans, and cobwebs.”

She rolled her eyes.

And see what? The cabinet door lying on the floor? The pool of black sludge in the sink?

Clark lowered his voice. “Superman could have this place cleaned and fixed up in a matter of minutes. Look at the bone structure, not its current clothes.”

Lois turned and found herself pressed against her husband’s chest. It felt warm and inviting. Steeling her nerves, she took a couple of steps back. “What’s going on here?”

“You mentioned this morning that we needed a new apartment. It has a bedroom, semi-private.” He led her into the adjoining room. “More private if we sleep upstairs in the loft.” Clark pointed to a small room that one accessed via a spiral staircase. “Or… it could also double as a baby’s room.” He placed a hand on her stomach. “Just in case.”

She gulped, glancing down at his hand.

“It’s larger than your current apartment, but not so large that guests could stay here if they visited.” He winked at her and then turned her towards the huge wall of windows facing a brick wall. “Plus, look at that private patio. We can look out, but no one can look in. I could…” He cleared his throat. “We’d finally have some privacy and some natural light.”

She turned his face towards hers. He looked so lost and helpless as he tried hard to impress her. It took every ounce of her determination not to give in to this charm, but she didn’t want to set a precedent. He had insulted her and walked out this morning. Lois didn’t want him to think he could get away with that kind of behavior without an apology. Clark would know better than to treat her that way…

Actually, the old Clark was an apology junkie.

Kal — this new Clark — needed to be taught.

The façade fell from his face and he snapped, “You hung up on me.”

Lois tightened the muscle in her jaw. Her gaze became sharper as she refused to rise to the bait of an argument. He owed her an apology, and until she got it, she would wait.

Clark crossed his arms and apparently had decided to wait as well.

Lois flipped up her hand.

Forget it. If he refuses to be man enough to apologize…

She turned towards the door.

Suddenly, Clark was in front of her again. “Lois, please…”

Hope came to her eyes.

This is more like it. We accept apologies in the form of begging, pleading, and chocolate.

Clark leaned his head against hers, accepting anything she had to offer him. “I’m so sorry about this morning, Lois. Please forgive me. I know you must be extremely angry at me because of how I treated you.”

Angry? Try livid. Irate. Furious.

“I’m not mad, Clark,” Lois told him, emphasizing the use of his name.

Not angry? Who are you? asked her inner voice.

“You should be. I acted like a total jerk …” he went on.

“I was angry, Clark. But mostly, I was hurt,” she admitted.

Oh, yes. Hurt. Hurt is much better than mad.

He winced. “I never…”

“Yes, you did,” Lois corrected him, and he looked away. “I hurt you and you lashed out.” She cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand and turned his face back to hers. “Somehow, I made you feel like I couldn’t love you without your memories. And that isn’t true.”

Clark swallowed and appeared uncomfortable that she knew him better than he knew himself. He turned towards the room again. “I know this isn’t the best place. But I talked Floyd down to nine hundred a month. We could have a fresh start. No tabloid reporters stalking us. This place could be ours instead of just…”

Lois set her hand on his chest, cutting him off. “For the time being, though, I think we should refrain from being intimate until your memories come back.”

Clark’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything she went on, holding up her hand.

“I realize that’s what you were trying to tell me yesterday. I know I’m the one who walked into your shower.” She stepped away from him and wandered around the room, pretending she was actually looking at the space instead of giving them more space.

What? You’re not going to mention that it was his fault that you were turned on in the first place?

“So you’re essentially holding your intimacy hostage and ransoming it with my memories?” he inquired with a raised brow. “I don’t think that kind of pressure is going to make them come back any faster.”

His tone was light and teasing, but Lois sighed in frustration anyway. “I cannot do this again, Clark. I cannot make love to you one moment and have you walk out on me the next. I can’t.”

Clark held out his hands. “That’s why I wanted you to meet me here, Lois. I just wanted to show you I wasn’t going anywhere. I’m never leaving you. That I’m looking forward, towards our future. I may say and do stupid things every once in a while, but nothing will stop me from loving you. If I had to choose between breathing and loving you, I’d hold my…”

“Don’t worry, Clark.” She smiled as she interrupted him. “Breathing is required. It’s not optional.”

“Neither is loving you,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “If I have to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m worthy of your love…”

Lois’s heart pounded.

Isn’t that what he said on that beach in Costa Rica, the day Superman made you the glass fish?

“You’ve already said ‘I do,’” she reminded him.

“I know, but I wanted you to know that this new me — this me, without memories — would love you forever, too, if I had to,” he tried to clarify.

“Had to?” Lois teased, knowing what he had meant.

“If the memories never return…” She heard him gulp, fearful of that future.

“Clark, the memories are already returning. Give them some time,” she whispered, caressing his cheek. Lois glanced around the room for a way to distract him from these thoughts. Then she remembered the loft. “Okay, husband. Fly me up the loft and show it to me. That staircase looks a bit wobbly.”

“It’s perfectly sound. I’ve already used it. You should try it for…”

Lois stepped back and crossed her arms. “Fly me!”

“Lo-is!” He glanced around cautiously.

Nervous about something there, Clark?

She raised a brow. “If this place is so private, nobody should see us. Fly me!”

“I think you should try…” he replied, walking to the staircase.

She stood her ground. “What’s wrong, Clark?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Isn’t he sweet? To lie to you like that?

Lois stepped back into his embrace. “You would never intentionally hurt me.”

“Never. Intentionally,” he agreed, kissing her forehead. “It’s the unintentionally I’m worried about.”

She kissed his cheek and headed for the spiral staircase. “Okay. Fly yourself and meet me up there.”

Clark blanched. Yep, she had hit the nail on the head. Superman couldn’t fly.

***

Kal gulped. No, not flying. Not now. Not after she finally forgave him for being a dense idiot. Again. She couldn’t see him fail like that.

Lois returned from the spiral staircase and hugged him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tell her? Tell her what? That he couldn’t fly? What’s a Superman who can’t fly? It was like a man who couldn’t… No, he wouldn’t jinx himself and even think that analogy. Sure, he could still be a hero, but he wouldn’t feel like a hero… His shoulders slumped as he tightened their embrace before whispering in her ear, “What’s a superhero who can’t fly?”

She leaned back and smiled. “Batman?”

Who? Kal’s confusion must have been obvious across his face, because she wiped the response out of the air.

“I know you can fly, Clark,” she said and lowered her voice. “When I woke up this morning because we had left the shower on, we were floating above the bed.”

His eyes opened wide. Really? “But… I … you…”

“It’s normal.” Her smile grew into a semi-embarrassed grin, and she licked her lips. Was it in anticipation of something? “We’ve even been known to make love midair.”

Making love, huh? Maybe he just needed more exposure to happiness and making love to Lois … “Happy thoughts and fairy dust,” he murmured, kissing down her neck.

“Pixie dust,” Lois corrected him.

Kal froze. She had heard him.

“Well, we could experiment and see what happens,” said Lois, grabbing his hand and walking over to the windows.

Experimenting? Ooooh. That sounded good. Kal smiled as that fantasy of strawberries, chocolate sauce, and Lois flashed across his mind. He definitely had ideas about that. Kal had a couple of new memories from that afternoon that he was willing to barter for intimacy. He wondered if they would be enough collateral for that fantasy.

“Or we could tackle the problem head on,” Lois continued, opening the door next to them and pushing him out onto the patio. She leaned over the railing and viewed what was below them. “An alley, good.”

“Good?” He gulped. “Was that ‘good’ as in nobody will see me fly? Or ‘good’ as in nobody will see me fall?”

“You won’t fall, Clark,” she said, patting him on the back. “You know you’re Superman, right?”

He nodded.

Lois patted the cement railing. “Up, up and away, cowboy.”

Kal raised an eyebrow. “Cowboy?”

She waved the name out of the air. “An old nickname.”

“Do I even know how to ride a horse, Lois?” he asked.

“No idea, but something we can easily remedy.” She grinned.

Lois was definitely a ‘brush the dirt off your pants and get back on the bicycle’ type of woman. It would be incredibly sexy if she wasn’t trying to make him fall off of this balcony.

She grabbed his biceps, looked him straight in the eyes, and told him, “You can do this.”

And he believed her. If she believed he could fly, he could do it. He had done it once before.

Kal handed her his glasses and started to pull open his shirt; her hand stopped him.

“You don’t need the suit to fly. Come on. Up on the railing with you.”

He cleared his throat as he stepped up. Nervously he looked down to the alley below. “I don’t know about this, Lois…”

She grabbed his wrist and asked one last question. “Still invulnerable?”

He winked. “I’m not allowed to die, Lois.”

She smiled at him and let go of his wrist. “You’ve got that right, buster.”

Kal took a deep breath and looked up into the blue, cloud streaked sky. He raised a fist into the air, as he had seen in those photos of himself in the paper, and thought, Sky. A moment later he was above the city. Kal pumped his fist in triumph. He had done it!

Wait! Had Lois said that he wasn’t allowed to die? She had married him for his invulnerability, just like Lucy had suspected. With this realization, he started to fall straight down.

“Nooooooooooo!” he called, his arms and legs flailing before he hit the garbage cans in the alley with a crash.

“Clark!” he heard her call from above him.

He waved feebly from a pile of dented cans. Kal didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to get up. He still couldn’t fly. He was pathetic.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. Today had been one complete failure. His memories still weren’t returning as he hoped. He had insulted his wife and walked out on her. He had gotten to the robbery too late. He had made Lois angry by talking to Linda King. And then again when he had called Lois at the office as Kal. He had learned that he had once called Lois a whore. He had picked the worst apartment in all of Metropolis to show to his wife. He had messed up while trying to fly. And to top it all off, he had discovered that Lois had married him because he couldn’t die. This had been the worst day ever.

Lois rounded the corner of the alley breathless as if she had run all the way from the apartment. “Clark! Are you all right?” she asked, flinging herself against his chest.

“I’m fine,” Kal replied tersely, wanting to step out of her embrace. “Invulnerable, remember?” He didn’t like the coldness in his tone, but all of his happy thoughts were gone.

“I’m so sorry, Clark. I shouldn’t have pushed you. It was way too soon. Please, forgive me.” Lois held tightly on to him and the ice in his veins soon melted into mush.

“Why did you want to marry me, Lois?” he asked. “What is so wonderful about Clark that after all the horrible things I’ve said and done, you can still want this wretched, disgraceful man?”

“Don’t say that!” she scolded. “I love you. When you aren’t the biggest, most pigheaded jealous fool in the universe, Clark, you can be gentle and funny and loving. You are so sweet that you care to take my thoughts and wishes into account when making decisions. So thoughtful that you reheat my morning coffee without me asking after it’s gone cold because you distracted me with hot kisses,” she said, turning his face towards her to place a soft kiss on his lips.

It felt like coming home.

“You are so forgiving, it could almost be considered a fault,” Lois went on with a wink, so he knew she didn’t. She placed his glasses back on his face. “When Claude was spouting lies about me, you refused to believe them. You love me more than anyone has ever loved me in my life. You make me feel that I’m worth loving. You always look for the good in people…”

As Lois continued gushing about Clark’s virtues, pictures of the two of them filled his head. All of them memories. Sweet, wonderful, emotional, sensory-filled memories, but the speed of their recovery made them as clear as pea soup. A smile on Clark’s face grew and grew as she continued to list all the things she loved about him.

Lois stopped speaking and stared at him. “Are you remembering something?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’m remembering how long it’s been since I properly kissed my wife,” he replied, dipping her for intense kiss. He was going to make her regret putting intimacy on hold for his memories.

Eventually, he pulled her back up and set her fully on her feet. Her knees weakened, and he had to grab her again so she wouldn’t fall.

“Whoa, Clark,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Where did that come from?”

He smiled mischievously, shrugged, and then pulled her back for another kiss. “So, how many memories do I need to trade you for a night of passion?” He bounced his eyebrows.

Lois swatted his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No?” He pouted before nuzzling her neck. “Because I was thinking we could stop by the store. I’ve been craving sundaes all day.”

“Sundaes?” she repeated, and then her smile exploded in size as if she knew what he was talking about. “You mean like strawberries, melted chocolate, and whipped cream?” She licked her lips.

Had that been a mutual fantasy that they had discussed? “Yeah? How did…?”

“Honey, that’s not a fantasy…” Lois beamed. “That is definitely a memory.”

His jaw dropped. “You mean, you and I…?” He swallowed as the image… the memory flashed across his mind again. “That was real?”

She nodded. “The pasta, also a memory.”

Clark kissed her again, his tongue dancing with hers. Oh, how in the world had he forgotten how delirious this woman’s kisses made him? “What about the bath? And the shower?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes and yes,” she also said between kisses.

If all those fantasies had been real? Had been memories? “How about the cave?” he dared. That couldn’t have been a memory.

“Oh, yeah. Completely unforgettable.” Lois moaned just from the thought of it. “That was the night you returned to Niagara from your first Nightfall mission.”

Clark swallowed. Nightfall? As in the first time he had fully joined her in his aura? No wonder it was such a strong memory. No surprise it had been that memory that popped into his head when he had kissed Lois by the pool yesterday afternoon. He kissed her again. The more he kissed her, the more the mess of memories in his head straightened into coherent thoughts.

He now knew what heaven felt like. Kissing this woman and remembering all the other kisses at the same time.

“Clark, I love you…” Lois murmured. He could feel her body reacting positively to his stimuli. She didn’t seem to be heeding her earlier request to refrain from intimacy as he kissed down her neck.

“I love you, too, Lois,” he replied. He knew for certain that she loved him. How could he have forgotten that?

“… But I don’t want to join the mile-high club,” she finished. “At least, not over Metropolis.”

The what? Her words slapped him across the face. Huh? Clark opened his eyes and realized — as she must have already — that they were floating over the city. He laughed.

“Happy thoughts and pixie dust?” Lois asked with a twinkle in her eye.

He grinned. “Happy thoughts and memories.” The way his memories were floating around in his head at the moment they might as well be fairy dust.

Lois smiled along with him.

“I’m so sorry, Lois. I can’t believe what an idiot I’ve been. I’ve done nothing but torture you for last twenty-four hours. Please know that I never meant…” he started rambling before her mouth covered his.

“Welcome back, Clark,” Lois said with bubbling merriment, kissing all over his face.

“Welcome…? How did you…?”

“No one apologizes just like you,” she replied. “You want to get out of here before we get spotted by a passing plane?”

“Yeah. I need to make love to… oh, darn!” Clark groaned.

“What? Someone calling to your super side?” Lois sounded as dejected as he felt.

“No.” He sighed as he landed them quickly and quietly onto the Clinton Street apartment’s patio. “We have to replace the futon mattress I threw out.”

Lois ran a finger down his chest in a zigzag pattern. She bit her bottom lip and smiled seductively at him. “What would you say if I said I have a surprise for you?”

“Surprise?” Clark led her back into the debris-filled apartment. “What? As in reminding me we can make love anywhere? That we don’t need a mattress?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Her pulse and breathing quickened as their mouths joined again. He took that as a ‘yes’ and started to unbutton her blouse.

“Clark!” she gasped. Again, he took this as a ‘yes.’

He lifted her bottom up so that their hips met and leaned her against the wall.

“Clark!” Lois’s voice cracked this time. Her hands unbuttoned his flannel shirt only to find his suit underneath. “Too many layers… let’s go home,” she murmured as her fingers danced across his ‘S’.

“How about a quickie first?” Clark suggested as his self-control diminished with every movement of her hand. “I can undress in less than a second, if that’s worrying you.”

Lois glanced around the room with thinly veiled disgust. “Here?”

“Wait here.”

***

Tentatively, Lois held her blouse together with one hand as she tried to control her raging ardor by catching her breath.

Wait? Why is this man always making you wait?

A cloud of dust descended from the loft.

What is he doing?

A moment later, Clark dropped in front of her. “May I give you a lift?”

Lois smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you sure, Clark? Floyd could walk in any minute.”

He grinned. “I locked the door. And I’ll hear him if he uses the key.” They floated upwards to the loft.

He had removed the piles of newspapers, empty paint cans, and dust. The small room seemed to sparkle in comparison to the rest of the apartment. Clark leaned her against the wall and started kissing her again.

“Clark!” she moaned more than spoke. She had to get this word out. “Condom?”

He held up a little square foil wrapped package.

“Where?”

“After that night at my folks’ apartment when we had forgotten to bring the condoms along, I started keeping one in my wallet,” he replied. “I found it this morning, when I bought a copy of the Daily Planet.”

“Clark,” Lois whispered between kisses. She really didn’t want to lie down on this hard floor. “I’ve got a mattress in the car.”

He moved his head back far enough to grin roguishly at her. “Later.”

Here they were making love in public. Again. They could be caught at any moment. It was dangerous. It was thrilling. Her body hummed with excitement.

Thank God he found his memories.

***

They panted in silence, trying to catch their breaths.

“Clark?”

“Hmmm,” he replied, his head resting against hers, but his brain probably unable to form words yet.

“How did we ever survive without this?” she asked rhetorically. Her fingers straightened his locks. “If I knew what you could do to my body… that I could ever feel like this… I would have knocked down those boxes and pushed you into that freight elevator the first moment you smiled at me the day we met.”

“That would have been surprising.” He chuckled. “And probably not unwelcome.”

“How are we going to work together? Side by side? Day in and day out? With me not able to go an hour without making love to you?”

“We’ll manage,” he murmured with a slight break in his voice.

“I’ll have to wear skirts more often,” she determined aloud with a nod of her head.

“Skirts?”

I don’t think Clark’s brain is at one hundred percent yet.

“This is much easier if I’m not wearing pants,” she explained the obvious. “Especially if someone could walk in at any moment. I could just pull the skirt back down…”

Clark gulped. “Better make that every half-hour, then.”

“Clark?”

“Yes, Lois?”

“You are going to want us to move in here, aren’t you? Now that we’ve christened the place?” she asked softly.

He smiled. “I must admit the apartment is growing on me. I did get my memories back here.”

“Actually…” Lois giggled. “If you want to live where you got your memories back, I’m sure we could get a nice cardboard box for the alley.”

Say what?

Clark pressed his lips together with a raised brow. “Ha-ha.”

Lois looked over his shoulder at the loft. “You know, Clark, this area would make the worst baby room ever, don’t you? The spiral staircase. Please! That big drop to the floor down below. And if we put the crib down there and we slept up here, you’d be in charge of getting the baby in the middle of the night so I don’t fall off the edge to my death in my sleep.”

Lois, shut up!

Her husband swallowed, but didn’t say anything.

“And if I’m pregnant, there is no way I could navigate that stairwell, especially with a huge belly,” Lois continued with a kiss to his cheek. “But, on the other hand, it would either make a great guest room, storage room, or office.”

“I love you.” Clark pressed a kiss to her lips. “No matter what.”

Great. You’ve succeeded in ruining the mood, Lois’s inner voice grumbled. Thanks.

Lois caressed her husband’s face. “And I love you. Let’s go home.”

He nodded.

“So, we’ll think about the apartment?” he asked her. “I could put down the security deposit. I got… Darn!”

Lois raised a brow and waited.

“When I withdrew the money from my checking account this afternoon for the security deposit, I didn’t have my memory. I completely forgot that I need to help my folks pay for the rent on the café,” he told her. His shoulders slouched.

She fastened her pants. “Do you want it that badly? Floyd said we could have the weekend to think about it.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’ll be lucky if this place isn’t gone by the morning.”

Lois took another look around the dump. This place could be gone by morning? True, the bone structure of the apartment might make it a place worth living in, once it was cleaned up, but the neighborhood didn’t look that great. She cupped his jaw with her palm. “We’ll take the weekend to think about it. If it’s gone on Monday, it wasn’t meant to be. If it’s still available, we’ll find the funds somehow. I’ve got a little left from the wedding money my father gave me.”

She dusted off her pants as he flew off the loft and returned less than a minute later, a plastic Daily Books bag hooked over his wrist. She gazed at him questioningly.

“I put the suit back on,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to carry it out or leave it in the car when we stopped for groceries.”

She nodded and slipped on her shoes.

What was he doing at Daily Books?

Clark scooped her up into his arms. As he flew them back downstairs to the main room of the apartment, he started howling with laughter.

Her brow furrowed.

What’s so funny?

Clark waved his laughter out of the air. “Batman.” He shook his head as tears of amusement came to his eyes. “A superhero who doesn’t fly.” He continued to chuckle.

***

Saturday — Mid-day

Lois pulled the Jeep Cherokee into a spot down the street from MJ’s Café.

“You so lost,” she told her husband.

“It was a draw,” Clark argued back. He dropped his voice when she met him on the sidewalk. “We finished at the same time.”

“You folded first,” she reminded him, nuzzling his neck.

“I did no such thing,” he retorted.

Lois knew he was arguing for argument’s sake and grinned.

You so won.

“You begged me to join you,” she said.

“That’s not true. I didn’t ‘beg.’” He pressed his lips together in a line. “I humbly requested your participation in the mutually agreed upon completion of said act,” Clark responded and then shot her one his best sheepish smiles.

He totally begged.

Lois raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You lost. You’re paying for lunch,” she informed him, her hand on the door handle of the café.

Clark stopped her from pulling it open by pressing a kiss to her lips. “If I admit defeat…”

A-ha!

“It’s only because you had a head start. Next time, we start the bet from when we’re fully clothed and not…” He lowered his voice. “… when I’m blissfully…”

She smiled curiously. “Blissfully?”

“Always,” he said, finally allowing her to open the door.

They were immediately enveloped in one of Maisie’s huge hugs. “Jonathan! Martha!” she called so the whole restaurant could hear. You could take Maisie away from the Smallville Diner, but you couldn’t take the Smallville Diner out of Maisie. “The kids are here.”

Lois turned to Clark and mouthed, Kids?

He shrugged.

“Where have you been all week?” Maisie asked, and then answered her own question with a little extra rosiness to her cheeks. “Never mind. You two are still on your honeymoon.”

Lois received a grin from Clark.

Well, if he didn’t say it all in that one look.

Jonathan came out of the office and Clark — closing the gap in three large steps — hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Clark?” Jonathan choked out.

“Yeah,” Clark responded as his dad tightened the hug.

Maisie laughed and elbowed Lois. “You’d think that they hadn’t seen each other in a year.”

Lois winked back. “That must have been some premarital advice speech.”

Clark glanced over his shoulder and shook his head at her. “Minx.”

Martha skipped past the men. “Lois!” And suddenly, Lois found herself in one of her mother-in-law’s all-encompassing hugs. “Welcome to the family, sweetie.”

Not one to want her emotions to get the better of her, Lois found she could not hold back the tears while in Martha’s embrace. That was what the Kents were now — her family.

More so than your own flesh and blood.

“Thank you so much, Martha,” Lois said, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“For what?” Martha asked.

For allowing you to seduce her son and become part of the Kent family?

“Raising such a wonderful man,” Lois replied and saw Clark and his father both turn and smile at her.

You’ve redeemed yourself from that earlier snarky comment.

“And the pasta. That tortellini casserole was delicious. You must give us the recipe for the sauce,” Lois insisted.

Oh, yes. It’s already a family favorite. Pasta and sauce. If they hadn’t run out of it, they would still be in the apartment now.

Clark shot his wife a ‘shut up’ look, and Lois wondered if he was reading her thoughts.

Martha smiled. “Clark has the recipe,” she informed Lois with a tap to her head.

Oooh-la-la. Many nights of pasta in your future.

The men walked up to them. Martha hugged her son. “Welcome back, honey. Do you want to sit out here or at the Chef’s table?”

At Lois’s perplexed expression, Clark explained, “In the kitchen.” He caught her eye. “Out here, if you don’t mind, Mom. We have some things to discuss.”

Right. Terms for the next winner-takes-all bet.

Lois covered up her grin with her hand.

Hmmm. What do you think we should have Clark do for you next?

The phone rang and Jonathan grabbed it with a wave at Clark. Martha kissed each of their cheeks and returned to the kitchen.

“What would you kids like?” Maisie asked, walking them over to a table.

They sat on opposite sides of a small booth. Lois didn’t even open her menu. “You know what’s good here, Clark. You order for me.”

He smiled at her.

“We’ve got pasta on special,” suggested Maisie.

“No!” both Lois and Clark barked at the same time and then laughed at their hostess’s shocked expression.

Clark cleared his throat. “We had pasta for dinner last night, Maisie. How about a couple of my mom’s famous chicken sandwiches, home fries, and some iced tea?”

“Sounds great. Hey, Clark, isn’t that what you were eating that first day we shared lunch outside of Daily Books?” Lois asked him after Maisie had walked off.

His smile grew with his nod and he leaned towards her, whispering, “You’re too far away. I need to kiss you.”

She leaned forward so he could reach her lips.

“Maybe I should move next to you,” he suggested, his hand caressing her arm.

“Do you want to make-out during lunch?” Lois teased him.

His eyes smiled a definite yes!

“We have things to discuss, remember?” she went on, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small notebook. She lowered her voice to under a whisper, “I need to interview you about Nightfall.”

“Not here,” he mumbled back. “Home. Later.”

Lois closed her notebook and tucked it away. “I wish that reimbursement check from my insurance company would get here already. I’m going crazy without a computer. How are we going to type up our article at home? I guess we’ll have to go into the office…”

“Or…” Clark reached across the table and took hold of her hands.

I like how he can’t keep his hands off you. You are so going to win the next bet.

“Or?” Lois raised a brow.

“I could pick up my old typewriter while we’re here and take that home with us,” he said and then bounced his eyebrows behind those dark-rimmed glasses.

Sigh. He has such gorgeous eyes. Where did his new glasses disappear off to?

She pressed her lips together as she kicked off one of her shoes. “I think you like that new futon mattress too much. What will you do when we move into a new apartment and that new bed I ordered arrives?” She took a sip from her glass of ice water Maisie had left on the table when she had seated them.

Clark’s jaw dropped. She loved his surprised face.

Lois pouted. “Are you upset? Did you want to help me pick it out?” She raised her shoeless foot to his leg and slowly glided it along his calf to his knee.

Surprised him again!

“Lo-is!”

“What? Did you think I was going to order something too soft or too… uncomfortable?” Lois lowered her voice as her foot reached his thigh, “Was I wrong when I figured that invulnerable meant that it didn’t matter what kind of mattress I bought? I figured that all you’d care about was how much clothing I wore or didn’t wear while lying on it.” She batted her eyelashes demurely at him. She slid her foot farther up his leg and smiled. “Was I wrong?”

Maisie brought their iced teas and Clark swallowed half of his in one gulp.

“Thanks, Maisie,” Lois responded for him.

The older woman spoke softly, “Cut it out, Lois, you’re killing the poor man.”

Clark started coughing as Lois rolled her eyes and lowered her foot.

“Are you okay?” Lois asked her husband innocently.

“Yep,” he said with a shake of his head. “Going to have to keep my shorts in the freezer.”

She laughed, slipping her shoe back on her foot.

***

Clark couldn’t believe that Maisie had said that to Lois. Didn’t she know about Pete? He thought Maisie knew everything about everyone in Smallville. Maybe it wasn’t common knowledge how close the two of them had become? Clark took hold of his wife’s hand. “I’m not going to die on you.”

Lois’s brow furrowed. “I know that.”

“Do you?” He gazed at her seriously. “I know you love me, Lois, but…”

“But, what?” she sounded positively terse.

Clark glanced down at their clasped hands. “Lucy told me about your bad luck with men…”

“Lucy told you what?” Lois spit the words at him.

“You didn’t marry me because of…” He tapped her hand against his arm. “My candy coating, did you?” His eyes met hers questioningly.

She pressed her lips together and tried to pull her hands from his, but he wouldn’t let go. “Is that what you think, Kal?”

Clark stiffened. “Are you going to call me by … my birth name every time you think I’m acting a dense idiot?”

She shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

“If you are suggesting that it’s my background that makes me a dense idiot, we’ve got a serious problem,” he told her. “I cannot help my background nor would I change it if I could.”

Lois pulled her hands free and moved over to his side of the booth. She caressed his face. “Nor would I.”

He relaxed at her loving expression.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, Clark,” she murmured, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I love all of you… candy coating and all.” She placed her hands on his chest. “Do I like that it takes a huge asteroid to give you a bump on the head? Sure. But I married you for all of you, not just one part of you, you silly goose.” Then a wicked expression came to her eyes. “Well…”

“Well, what?” Was there a something Super about him that pushed her from a maybe to a yes?

Lois’s hands glided up his chest and over his shoulders until she was hugging him. Her lips whispered into his ear, “If I had known what you were hiding under those red shorts of yours before we were married…” She moaned.

Clark gulped as he felt a flush crawl up his face. Oh, that.

She licked his ear. “Should we get lunch to go?” Her hand slid down his chest to his stomach.

He cleared his throat. “No…”

“Okay!” she said happily and a rush of cold air replaced her body as she returned to the other side of the table.

Maisie was right. All this teasing was killing him. Oh, but what a pleasant death it would be.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Besides my typewriter, there are some things I need to pick up from my folks.” He saw that his father was off the telephone. “Speaking of which…” Clark stood up and walked over to his dad. Thank goodness the extra layers from his Superman suit made the results of his wife’s machinations less noticeable.

His dad glanced up at Clark’s approach and smiled. “Something up, son?”

Clark tried, with some difficulty, to keep his face its normal skin tone.

Clearly, Clark hadn’t faked his non-discomfort well as his dad pressed his lips together in attempt to keep a laugh from escaping. His father failed miserably. Jonathan lowered his voice, “Ah. The tortures of young love. Do you need me to make excuses while you visit your summer home in the Arctic?”

Unable to hide his beet-red face any longer, Clark glanced down at the floor. “No, that’s okay, Dad. I need to learn to control…” He gulped.

“Your wife? Yeah. Good luck with that,” replied his dad with what sounded like years of experience.

“Myself.”

“Oh, yes. Much easier to control. I agree. I went that route myself in my younger days…” Jonathan reminisced.

“Dad!” Clark snapped a bit more harshly than he meant. “Sorry. I… Do you have a minute to speak in private?”

“Always.” His dad led the way to his office.

Once inside, Clark shut the door behind them and handed to his father the stack of hundred dollar bills he removed from his checking account the previous day to use as a security deposit on the Clinton Street apartment. “For the café’s rent.”

Jonathan held up his hand as he sat down behind his desk. “Keep it, son. You’re a married man now. You have your own expenses. Your mother and I will figure something out.”

“Dad, today’s the first. You need October’s rent. Please. Lois and I will make do.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll have the Daily Planet’s salary soon and MDS promised to pay me all my back vacation pay.” Clark failed to mention it was in lieu of severance. He still felt bad about failing to contact his former employer after getting Perry’s job offer. “Please. It would help me sleep at night.”

His father looked like he was fighting another burst of chortles. “Yeah, right. Like you’re doing any of that now.”

“Dad!” Clark groaned.

The man grinned. “Nothing wrong with that, Clark. Enjoy the honeymoon while it lasts, because it doesn’t last forever. Or so I’ve heard.”

Clark knew enough about his parents’ relationship to know that they were still as very much in love as they were when they were first married, if not more so.

“You need the funds to get yourself a new apartment. You can’t live in a basement,” his dad reminded him.

And Clark’s parents were probably ready for Lucy to head home. Not that they would ever admit it.

“Lois and I looked at a place over on Clinton yesterday,” Clark told him. “A real dump with potential. I could fix it up like…” He snapped his fingers. “But Lois…” He shrugged.

“Hated it?” asked his father, glancing up from where he was bent down to set the safe’s timer.

“It’s growing on her.” The son smiled, remembering the afternoon delight from the day before. “It’s on the top floor and has a patio that faces a brick wall. Perfect really.”

“But…?”

How could Clark explain to his father that it wasn’t a good apartment for children? They didn’t have children, but after their carelessness on the honeymoon, one could be on its way. Should this be something to even mention to his folks? Especially without discussing it with Lois first? No. That would be a bad idea. “Let’s just say, it’s not a place with growth potential.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you looking for a place that is? Already?”

Clark shrugged.

“Is Lois?”

Clark had assumed his father’s use of ‘you’ in his previous sentence had included Lois. He didn’t know quite how to answer that inquiry. Was Lois actively trying to be a mom? Absolutely not. But that sparkle in her eye when Kal had kissed her tummy and asked if she could be pregnant had told him she wasn’t completely adverse to the idea if the event had already occurred.

Jonathan sent him a reassuring smile at Clark’s lack of an answer. “You’re both young, son. No need to rush. Plenty of time before you need to worry about growing your new family. You need to get to know yourselves as a couple first.”

Clark placed a smile on his face. “Right.” He completely agreed, but the choice may have been taken out of their hands. He gulped. Was he ready for such a step? He knew he wanted children, but so soon? He and Lois needed to discuss this topic sometime when they were out of bed and not so easily distracted.

He decided to change the topic. “Dad, have you seen my wedding ring? I left it here with my glasses and wallet when I went to battle Nightfall the first time.”

Jonathan smiled sheepishly. “I locked it in the safe for you, Clark.”

“Why didn’t you give it to me the other day?”

“I didn’t think of it, actually,” admitted his father. “What with the wedding, Nightfall, and you losing your Clark memories and all. I forgot I put it in here for safe keeping.”

Clark nodded. “Dad, I didn’t just lose my memories of being your son; I lost all of my memories.”

“You didn’t seem to want that part of your life back,” his father said softly.

Clark winced. Maybe Lois was right. His Kal side was an idiot. “Dad, I love you and Mom. I wouldn’t lose you for the world. Truthfully, and I know this will sound crazy, but I was just scared of Lois. Frightened that she wouldn’t love me. Terrified she wouldn’t want me or even like me, if I was just…” He lowered his voice. “Superman.” He shook his head. “Ridiculous, I know. I knew as Superman nothing could hurt me, physically. But losing the love of a wife I couldn’t remember but knew I loved with all my heart scared me stiff. It was nothing personal against you and Mom. I’m afraid I wasn’t really thinking with my head.”

Jonathan sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Is that what Superman thinks with, son?”

“Dad!” Clark admonished him. “I meant my heart.”

“Right,” his dad replied, clearly not believing him. Then he winked at his son to let Clark know he was only teasing. They both laughed.

The safe beeped. His father typed in the code and reached in to retrieve the ring. Before Jonathan could shut the safe again, Clark super sped the rent money inside. Jonathan might not want to take the funds on principle, but as his father had reminded him recently, Clark could be quite stubborn. Where did Jonathan Kent think his son had learned it?

Jonathan handed him the ring and Clark slipped it on his finger, happy to have it back.

“Lois is probably wondering what happened to you,” said his dad, standing up. “Unless there was something else?”

Clark cleared his throat and glanced back at the closed door of the office. “You didn’t tell Mom about our little talk before I left for Niagara, did you?”

His father winked at him. “What talk?”

Clark exhaled with relief. Lois’s teasing remark about a premarital conversation between father and son had actually occurred. His father had given him some good advice about women, marriage, and how best to treat his wife. Clark wished he hadn’t forgotten some of that advice over the last few days. But he never wanted to admit that the conversation took place — that he had actually needed that advice — until it was time to have the same talk with his own son. Clark smiled. Son. He liked the sound of that.

He wrapped an arm around his father’s shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the greatest, and I love you.”

“I love you, too, son.” Jonathan seemed to glow from inner happiness at hearing these words from Clark. “I don’t need to tell you you’re the greatest, do I?”

Clark chuckled as they returned to the dining room. “Between you and Lois, I’m going to have to start buying bigger hats.”

Lois glanced up at their approach. The sandwiches and fries were already on the table.

Her husband slid into the booth and took Lois’s hand in his as a greeting. “Miss me?”

She smiled. “Every second. Clear everything up with your dad?”

Clark sprinkled his food with salt and popped a fry into his mouth. “He didn’t want to take the money. He said we needed it for our own place. Gave me the ‘you’ve got a wife now’ speech.”

“I’m such the ‘little woman,’ and I can’t possibly take care of myself,” Lois drawled in a Southern Belle voice as she rolled her eyes in agreement with her husband. “I’d much rather keep living in my basement apartment than have your folks lose this place.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled. She always said the right thing to make him double his love for her.

She pulled her hand free and picked up her sandwich.

“But I can’t, Lois,” Clark told her and then rushed on to explain. “I love you, but personally, I hate your apartment.”

“Oh, really,” Lois inquired.

“I hate that I can’t come and go as I please.” He lowered his voice. “As I need to.”

She nodded. “I know that, Clark. I told your mom after that first night I spent here — upstairs in their apartment…” She stared him in the eye as she licked her lips. “You know, in your bed — that we’d have to find another place soon. You need to be closer to heaven.” Lois picked up a fry, dipped in ketchup, and nibbled it down to her fingers.

Clark gaped at her, his sandwich hanging in front of his open mouth. Eventually he remembered to chew. He did so slowly as he thought about her words. He wondered if she realized what she had admitted to him and whether or not he should respond. Finally, he couldn’t resist. He swallowed down his bite of sandwich and said, “You told my mom what? When?”

Lois sucked her lips into her mouth as if hesitant to respond and then, leaning towards him, she blurted out, “I had said it in jest, Clark.”

For some reason, he didn’t believe her. Clark thought it had something to do with the sparkle in her eye when she had lied to him. “You told my mom, less than two days after our first real kiss, that you wanted to move in with me?”

She shot him a embarrassed grin, then shrugged. “I was in love at first kiss. So sue me.”

“First kiss? Like that first kiss in Receiving when you were trying to show Cat and Claude that you knew what a real man was?” He took a sip of his iced tea. “I never thanked you for that bit of confidence in me, by the way. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Lois sipped her drink as well. “And let’s just say, that first kiss released hidden desires inside of me that I didn’t know existed.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“What? You want to break up with me, because I saw a future with you from the beginning?” she mocked him.

“Never.” He lifted up her hand and kissed the back of it. He really wanted to kiss her lips, but they were too far away. “I could have done without all the torture though.”

“You could have done without the torture? Clark, you were lying to me!” She shook her head in disgust. “Don’t do that again.”

It was a command and not a question, so Clark decided not to answer it and move the topic back to where they should live. “So, have you thought any more about the Clinton Street apartment? Or…” He gulped, before lowering his voice. “Do you think we should look for something more family friendly?”

“Well…” Lois thought about his question, dipping another fry into ketchup and putting it into her mouth. “You could zap-zap me with your vision gizmo and see if you see anything…”

“Vision gizmo?” he asked incredulously.

Lois shrugged.

“I don’t know if I would recognize what we’re looking for at this early date,” he whispered across the table.

“Then we’ll wait and see. Either we stay at my place — and be extra careful — for the next month or so and look at moving in November when we know for sure…”

Clark did not want to stay in the basement apartment for another month.

“Or we move on with our life and if something…” She took a sip of her drink. “… develops, we deal with the repercussions then. We’re probably stressing over nothing.” She waved a hand. “I once had a doctor who said because of my backwards-facing uterus it would be more difficult for me to get pregnant.”

His jaw dropped as he stared at her. He snapped his mouth shut and took a quick glance around to make sure no one had overheard her. Then, in a soft voice, he said, “It’s possible that it wouldn’t matter, because I might have Super swimmers.”

Lois pressed her lips together for a moment and focused her gaze on his. She took a bite of her sandwich and continued to bore her eyes into his.

He was dying to know what she was thinking.

Finally, she said, “Honey, if your swimmers were all that Super, wouldn’t I be full of holes from where they escaped?”

Clark felt all the blood drain from his face. “I… I … Oh, God!… No!” That scenario had never crossed his mind. They would never be able to make love again with that fear buzzing around in his imagination.

Lois took hold of his hand. “I’m okay. We’re compatible. Your aura protects me, remember?” She smiled. “Maybe your swimmers are Super in another way we didn’t think of. Like they have an innate sense of direction.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he relaxed. “You know, we’re never going to make love without precautions again now, don’t you?”

She licked her lips. “Sure we will.” She closed her eyes and Clark could almost sense the feeling of oneness she was remembering from their night in the cave. Her eyes flashed open and Lois looked at him with such an intense expression of passion. He could hear her heartbeat quicken. Her skin was flushed. Her eyes were dilated. She wanted him. Then she blinked and focused on her sandwich and the expression was gone. “Someday, when we’re ready,” she murmured.

After that look, he was ready to push the table aside and take her at that exact moment. Clark took a cleansing breath and tried to concentrate on the conversation and lunch and not on making love with his wife. Not think of her mouth on his. Her hot and sweaty body. That little meowing noise she made. Failing miserably here, Kent.

He closed his eyes and thought about jumping into the freezing waters of the Arctic. Conversation. Right. What had they been talking about? “So, you do want kids?”

Lois’s eyes flicked back up to his. “Truthfully, yes. I always pictured an idealized future where I met a man with whom I would want to experience everything in life, including motherhood.” She squeezed their joined hands. “But, to be perfectly honest, Clark, I won’t make a good mother. Between my lack of patience and my role model…” He watched as she let that train of thought fade away with sadness. “Personally, I never thought I’d find… you.”

Clark picked up his sandwich and said, with nonchalance, “No matter how hard you try, Lois, you’ll never convince me that you’re the lucky one in this relationship. Sorry, I’ve got you beat, hands down.”

The sadness from her eyes disappeared and was replaced with love. His father, a genius. It helped that Clark hadn’t lied one bit with that statement.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Ask away.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

Lois giggled, embarrassed. Then she plunged ahead, keeping her voice low, “Why did Superman read Love Fortress International?”

He laughed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I had taken some newspapers from inside a few recycle bins,” he said, deciding not to mention that it had been a Met Star he had been stealing. “You know, to learn more about the wonder that is Superman.” He threw her a fake arrogant smile.

She rolled her eyes.

Clark continued on, “Tucked inside one of the newspapers was the copy of Love Fortress International. Curious, I skimmed through it. That article had detailed photos. I got quite an education.” He smiled naturally this time. He would always be thankful for that article. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

Lois blushed and looked down at her plate. “Did anyone see him…” She coughed. “… you reading it?”

“Sure. All the bugs, birds, and squirrels in the forest.”

She lifted her gaze back to his and smiled.

See, wife, he wasn’t a complete lunkhead even without his memories.

“So…” Lois said, taking another fry, dipping it in ketchup, and sticking it into her mouth. “I was thinking about the stakes for our next round…”

Clark grinned. He liked where her mind was going. “Really?”

“The loser cleans house for the week.”

He would probably be in charge of that anyway, since he could accomplish that task in seconds. “Not enough motivation for you to try and win. How about the winner makes dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” Lois gulped. “Clark, you really don’t want to eat my cooking.”

Clark pretended to revel in her discomfort. “You know you’re going to lose, don’t you?” he teased.

“Why don’t you make me dinner tonight, instead?” Lois batted her eyelashes modestly.

She really thought she was going to win, did she? Ha! He knew he could make her beg for it. He already had. “No, tonight’s no good. I’ve got plans. Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Plans?” Lois inquired.

“Yes, I know this great restaurant where they serve grilled fish…” he explained.

“Oh?”

“The restaurant is on the beach… Just off of Langosta,” Clark continued, wondering if she would recognize the name.

Her brow furrowed. “Isn’t that…” Her face lit up with bliss. “Clothing optional?”

Clark bit into a fry. This time, he wore the innocent expression. “Only if we decide to go swimming.”

***

Saturday Night

Lois leaned back against the log and let the lukewarm sand shift between her toes. It was dark out here on the beach. Too dark. She sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest. Finally, she heard the familiar swoosh of her husband returning from whatever emergency had pulled him away from their date.

“Hi,” Clark said softly, yet not apologetically.

“Hi.” Her tone was more curt and to the point. She was ticked off. Standing up, she dusted the sand from her skirt. “Let’s go home.”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. She could feel, more than see, that he had already changed from Superman into Clark. She didn’t feel like having his arms around her and pushed out of his embrace.

“Lois?” Clark sounded confused.

He shows up without an apology and he doesn’t know why you’re mad? Please!

Lois marched off down the beach, her sandals dangling from her fingers.

“I’m sorry. Is that what you want me to say?” Clark asked, following her. “You knew when you married me who I am.”

Men!

“I want you to actually be sorry,” she retorted.

“Am I sorry for locating that little boy who wandered away from his folks in the woods? No. Am I sorry for stopping that bullet during that mugging that went wrong? No. Am I sorry for digging through the debris after that mudslide and rescuing forty-two people, who would have otherwise died? Absolutely not.” He threw his hands into the air. “Am I sorry I came back here to spend a romantic evening with a woman who can’t cool her heels for an hour while I help other people… Hmmm. Let me think about that one.”

Gee, he sounds annoyed. Too bad he can’t tell time.

She turned around and faced him, fire in her eyes. “Three hours,” she corrected.

He stopped. “Excuse me?”

Lois threw one of her sandals at him and missed. “Three hours! I’ve been sitting here, ‘cooling my heels,’ for three hours!”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said quietly. This time he actually sounded like he meant it. But the apology still didn’t wipe out her anger.

“Three hours, Clark. You left me in a small town, in a strange country, where I don’t speak the language with no identification and no money,” she growled, throwing the other shoe. That one missed him as well. “I didn’t even know if you were going to make it back tonight or if I was going to have to sleep out here on the beach.”

“I left you my wallet. You weren’t without cash,” he reminded her.

Buzz. Wrong answer.

“Yes. Thank you,” she replied tersely. She proceeded to pull said object out of her little date purse and threw that at him as well. “At least, I could pay for dinner. Yes, thanks for not dining and dashing on me.”

Clark continued to follow her down the beach. “You could have gotten a room at the hotel.”

Lois rolled her eyes.

Buzz. Strike two.

“Like that wouldn’t have been suspicious, Clark. My credit card being used to pay for a hotel room in a town not fifty miles from the beach where Superman had taken me during our first interview. Wonder what she’s doing there? Having an affair with a man in tights perhaps?” She shook her head. “No, thank you. I would have slept out on the sand.”

“You’re being paranoid,” he told her.

Buzz. Third time’s a wrecking ball there, Clarkie boy. Sorry, but you do get a parting gift. A lifetime supply of guilt.

“Paranoid? After what we’ve been through? I don’t think so,” she grumbled. “Anyway, I didn’t bring a credit card and the money in your wallet barely covered dinner.”

“I said I was sorry, Lois. What more do you want from me?” he asked.

If you have to tell him that, this relationship has a serious problem.

Clark zipped around to the front of her, blocking her path. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“For starters, we’re supposed to be a team,” she said, hitting his chest with her fists. “I’ve been sitting here wondering why you didn’t bring me along with you.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow and lowered his voice further, “You just told me why, Lois. Clark and Lois are a team. Superman works alone.”

“It should really be ‘Lois and Clark’. That sounds better. And why?” she snapped at him. “Why can’t he work with Lois and Clark?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” he asked, setting his hands gently on her shoulders.

She sighed. “I just want to be a part of your life, Clark. All of it. I could write about what you’re doing for the Daily Planet. I don’t want to be left on some shelf somewhere collecting dust while you get to go and have all the fun.”

“Fun?” Clark shook his head. “Lois, I rescued forty-two people out of the mud alive. Forty-two out of fifty-four. There are twelve people who lost their lives tonight because of me.”

“Clark! There are forty-two people thanking their lucky stars you were there. It could have been much worse. It would have been catastrophic if you hadn’t been there,” she whispered, enfolding him into her arms and brushing her lips across his cheek. “I’m sor…”

Her apology was swallowed by his deepening their kiss. “I’d rather not talk about it. I need…” She could tell instantly from his stillness and his intense gaze she could sense more than see what he needed. Then he glanced away. “I’ll … I’ll take you home.”

No, that’s not what he needs.

Lois turned his face towards him. “Take me wherever you want. I’ll do anything to help. Just tell me, what do you need?”

“Distraction from my thoughts,” he murmured, running his hand through her hair and tucking it behind her ear.

Ooooh. You can do distraction, Lois. You’ve got that so covered.

She kissed him. More words would just get in the way. She didn’t start the kiss soft and gentle. She slammed her lips onto his and darted her tongue into his mouth. He accepted her suggestion with flourish and embellished on it.

They had reached the big rocks at the far end of the beach and Clark leaned her back against one of them. His hand slid under her dress to her bare behind. “Lois!” he gasped, pulling far enough away to look her in the eye. Well, he could see her. “Where are your undergarments, wife?”

You had been expecting a clothing optional swim, not an evening of sitting in the sand.

Lois shrugged and Clark pressed his mouth back onto hers.

Soft hands, no calluses. Another invulnerable bonus!

She couldn’t believe at how quickly she had changed from anger to passion to waves of ecstasy. Her hands moved up his bare chest under his shirt.

Wonder where the suit is? Oh, well. You’ll ask him later.

Lois pushed his t-shirt up and over his head, dropping it on the sand. It caught on his glasses and knocked them to the ground. He scooped her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He propped her against the rock and shifted his position so that he leaned slightly back. Suddenly, Lois’s chest felt sultry and warm.

“What did you do?” she whispered, almost panting. She wanted to tear off her own dress and expose her chest to the cool night air.

Clark’s mouth found hers again, his tongue darting into her mouth. “Experimenting,” he said between kisses. “Did you like it?”

Lois nodded and pulled his mouth back to hers.

“Would you like more?” he murmured.

Most definitely!

***

As they lay on the sand, the waves of water lapping at their naked bodies, Lois finally allowed herself a critique. “Wow.”

Clark kissed her cheek. “I like chicken.”

Huh?

Lois opened her eyes and lifted her head off his chest. She still couldn’t see him in the darkness. She really should eat more carrots.

How exactly did you end up on top of him, again?

“I like chicken, too,” she told him with some confusion.

What’s that got to do with the price of beans?

“For dinner tomorrow night, honey. You so lost.”

Lois wanted to be angry at him for bringing up their silly bet at this juncture. She wanted to cry ‘foul,’ but instead she started to laugh.

Suc-ker! This isn’t losing! This is so totally winning. He spun you around three, if not more, times on the merry-go-round and he has to eat your awful cooking! How exactly did you lose again?

“What?” Clark asked with disbelief. “Are you challenging me?”

“Nope.” Lois calmed her giggles enough to respond. “But if this is losing, Clark, I’ll cook for you every night.”

***

Sunday Morning

Lois lifted her head from where she had been writing in her notebook and looked at Clark, lying next to her. “And what happened after you crashed into the Nightfall asteroid, Superman?”

Clark grinned and kissed her bare shoulder. “I pushed the larger stray pieces of asteroid heading towards Earth and the moon away with my breath. And burned up as many of the little ones with my heat vision. Shall I demonstrate other uses for my heat vision, Mrs. Kent?”

“Okay, Clark. Stop it. I’m trying to be serious here. Perry has been waiting all week for this article. No more delays,” she said, pointing to the dining room. “Go over there and put on your suit.”

He shot her a faux-pout and then got off the bed slow enough for Lois to spank his bare bottom with her notebook. He removed his blue suit from the closet and spun into it with a ta-da gesture at the end. “Is this better, Ms. Lane?”

“Much,” she said, pulling the covers up and over her.

“Wouldn’t your husband prefer that you were dressed when we met, Ms. Lane?”

Lois smiled at him with a couple bats of those luscious lashes of hers. “Actually, my husband prefers me naked as much as possible.”

Superman crossed his arms and gazed at her with a raised eyebrow.

His wife rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess if you’re going to be professional about this…” She pulled herself off the bed and put on her fluffy robe that had fallen off the end of the bed during the night. “Is this good enough for you? That way you can type it up while I shower.”

He tilted his head lower. Was she punishing him for making her get out of bed? Minx. Of course, once the rough draft was written it would take him less than a minute to type it up. Plenty of time to join his wife in the shower and make sure she cleaned between her shoulder blades.

“So, you remember shooting off pieces of the asteroid after it broke up; therefore, it wasn’t the collision with Nightfall that caused your amnesia?” she asked.

“I thought we were keeping my amnesia need-to-know? As in the public doesn’t need-to-know,” he said.

Lois set down her pen. “Off the record then, Superman.”

Clark smiled. They could have years of fun with this ‘superhero and the reporter game.’ “Yes, I was still conscious after my collision with Nightfall, Ms. Lane.”

“Okay, go on,” she said, picking up her pen again. “Do you want it known by the general public that your heat vision is powerful enough to blow up rocks?”

“The general public already knows that I can heat up weapons with my heat vision and melt sand into liquid glass.” He gave her a naughty grin and shot off a burst of heat vision towards her. “Let’s keep the other uses of my heat vision…”

“Clark!” Lois snapped and started fanning herself. “Low blow, buster.”

He shrugged and blew a gust of cool breeze at the same spot.

His wife jumped into the air. “Stop it! Or you’ll know exactly how frigid I can be.”

Clark tried to feel chagrined but a smile still crept onto his lips. “My apologies, Ms. Lane.”

“We’ve got to practice being non-sexual acquaintances in public, Superman,” she reminded him. “Otherwise, Superman will be on the cover of Dirt Digger Weekly accused of having an affair with a married woman. A much worse sin than visiting an unmarried woman in her apartment in the middle of the night.”

This time, he truly felt guilty at her words. She was absolutely right. With her a full-time reporter now, the chance that Lois Lane Kent and Superman would bump into each other on the “job,” and on a daily basis at that, was more than likely. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ll stay in character.”

“Thank you,” said Lois, sitting back down. “Superman, you have said before that you can hold your breath for only twenty minutes at a time. Were you worried that using all that Super breath to push around asteroid bits would deplete your oxygen levels?”

He thought about that. “Actually, I didn’t consider it. I was thinking more about saving the moon and the Earth.”

Lois pressed her lips together and didn’t write down his answer. “Can we rephrase that to sound more positive?” she suggested.

He nodded. “I was more concerned about saving the Earth and moon from the Nightfall asteroid than with my own safety. I used my Super breath sparingly and concentrated on using my heat vision, which doesn’t deplete my oxygen levels.”

“We’ll work on that in the rough draft,” she told him, obviously not satisfied with that answer either. Nevertheless, she wrote it down. “Was that when the Asgard rocket exploded?”

“I discovered a large segment of asteroid spinning off towards the Asgard rocket about the time I decided not to use up the reserves of my breath. I was about to hit it with my heat vision when I was distracted by some smaller pieces of asteroid that crossed directly in front of my face. By the time I was able to refocus on the shard … it…” He lowered his gaze, guilt filling his entire being. “It must have been too close to the rocket, so when I zapped it with the heat vision, I must have … Oh, God! I blew up the Asgard rocket with my heat vision. It’s my fault if we have nuclear fallout here on Earth.” He sat down in one of the dining room chairs, his face dropping into his hands. “What have I done?”

Instantly, Lois was at his side, her arms surrounding him. “Do you know that for sure?”

He shook his head. “What other reason could there be? I was focusing on the asteroid chunk, but I was low on oxygen so maybe my aim was off just enough to hit the rocket? Or maybe the asteroid hit the rocket before I could destroy it? Either way, I’m the cause for the nuclear fallout that may rain upon the Earth.”

“Or maybe it was set to go off at impact? Or perhaps it was set to go off at a certain distance? Or possibly it was a combination of all of the above?” she suggested. “Or it was — I don’t know — the fault of the people who sent the Asgard rocket in the first place? If you hadn’t flown up there to divert it, the Asgard rocket would have still gone off and probably closer to the Earth than it did. And there wouldn’t have been anyone up there to get rid of all those radioactive remnants before they had rained down on us. Try as you might, husband, this world is a lot better off with you doing what you can than it would be without you in it.”

Clark lifted his eyes to hers and drank in the love he saw there, bolstering himself in her radiant sunshine. He pulled her into his lap. “And I think the world is a lot better off with you in it as well.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.

Lois responded with a growl of frustration. But not the kind of frustration he knew how to remedy. “How are we going to do this, Clark? We can’t keep our hands off each other for two minutes.” She patted him on the shoulder and pushed herself out of his lap. “Now, let’s try the question again. This time, don’t break down. You are Superman. Nothing scares you. Nothing upsets you. And nothing turns you on or I’ll make you Super freeze those shorts and put them back on.”

He chuckled, not because he didn’t think she would do it… he knew she would. But because Superman, as Lois painted him, was one bland fellow. “On the contrary, Ms. Lane,” he retorted, standing up and crossing his arms. “There are a lot of things that upset me: corruption, violence, greed, pollution, abuse of power, just to name a few. And there are things that scare me: a world without checks and balances for one, lawlessness, without good people like yourself who stand up and fight for the little guys in the world. And, Ms. Lane, I’m sure Clark has told you…” He winked at her. “My favorite turn-on is a bright sunny day.”

“Clark told me this?” Lois inquired, her lips pressed together so she wouldn’t laugh. “And how, pray-tell, would my husband know of your turn-ons, Superman? Is there something I should know about the two of you? Huh?”

He gulped. Failed that question as well. “Perhaps ‘turn-on’ wasn’t the correct term.”

She grinned. “Perhaps not.”

Superman took a deep breath and asked her, “I’m sorry, Ms. Lane, what was the question again?”

“Was that when the Asgard rocket exploded?”

He nodded, remembering. “Yes. There are many factors that may have caused the Asgard rocket to detonate. I had hoped to avoid nuclear fallout by not having the Asgard rocket to explode in the first place.”

“Will there be nuclear fallout due to the explosion of the Asgard rocket?” she asked, referring back to her notepad.

“That would be a question for the scientists,” he responded. “They’re better equipped to answer that question than I.”

Lois nodded, sitting down at the dining room table. “Are you radioactive?”

“As soon as I was able after returning to Earth, I was tested by Bernard Klein, PhD., over at S.T.A.R. Labs, and given a clean bill of health,” he replied.

“Really?” She glanced up from her notepad, not as Ms. Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet, but as Lois, his wife. “Are you?”

“Off the record. Honey, I would never have made love to you, never come within a hundred miles of you, if I had been radioactive,” he reassured her.

She tapped her pen against her pad. “Are you sure? I’m pretty irresistible.”

“True. It’s those darn magnets again, pulling us together.”

Lois smiled. “On the record…”

Clark nodded and went back into character.

“Where have you been since Wednesday?”

“Around.” He smiled innocently.

“Around anywhere in particular?” she hounded him.

“Let’s see, in the past week, I’ve been to outer space, Russia, Canada, Metropolis, Costa Rica…” Clark winked at her. “Mexico, France, Denmark, Columbia…” He couldn’t resist. “And my own private Utopia.”

Lois pressed her lips together. She was not amused. “So what happened after the rocket exploded?”

Superman closed his eyes. He vaguely remembered a bright light and a tremendous wave of energy. He pressed his mind, searching for what he had done, where he had gone, or if anything had struck him. Finally, he shook his head and sat down opposite her. “Off the record. I remember nothing.”

She gaped at him. “Nothing?”

“Zilch.”

“Did you get thrown off into space by the blast?” she inquired. “And the lack of oxygen to your brain caused your memory loss?”

Clark shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

“Did you try to fly home to beat the explosive force of the bomb?” she suggested. “That might explain the lack of radiation.”

“I don’t remember doing that, but it sounds possible,” he answered.

“Did you get blasted towards the sun, where the radiation was pulled from your body like a giant magnet and you had to stop by Mars on the way back to Earth for oxygen so that you could make it home?” Lois asked desperately. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to know what had caused his amnesia. “But the oxygen level on Mars was so low that it caused brain damage to some of your memories?”

Brain damage? He smiled at his wife. Clark really didn’t know, but brain damage would explain a lot. “If I say that one is correct — even though Mars is on the other side of us from the Sun — can I use the same excuse every time I do or say something you consider dense?”

Lois shot him a sour expression.

Clark sighed. He had thought not. It was a tempting excuse though. Honey, you can’t blame me for forgetting your birthday. I’ve got Martian brain damage. His eyes went wide as another thought occurred to him. He scratched his jaw, going for casual nonchalance. “Ah… By the way, Lois, when is your birthday?”

“You didn’t take a peek at my birth certificate?” Lois did casual much better than he did.

“I was little distracted because the most beautiful woman in the world was begging me to marry her,” he replied, taking hold of her hand across the dining table.

She tapped her pen against her notepad. “You do realize that you canceled out the ‘beautiful’ in that sentence by adding the ‘begging,’ right?”

He shot her a grin. “Martian brain damage?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you a hint. I’m a Libra.”

The blood drained from his face. They were already ten days into Libra. He gulped. “Lois?”

Lois looked down at her fingernails. “What would you do if I told you my birthday was on September 23rd?”

That was the day they got married. “Then I’d say you had yourself one terrific birthday. But that’s not your birthday.”

“No?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Clark stood up and walked over to the desk. One quick x-ray scan and he located the document they had just discussed. He sighed with relief before turning back around. “October 6th?”

“Cheater,” she accurately accused him.

He crossed his arms and pressed his lips together. “Your birthday is this coming Thursday and you weren’t planning on mentioning it to me, were you? You were just going to let it come and then get all pissy when I didn’t remember or hadn’t thought to ask… Lo-is! Do we really need to play these sorts of games?”

She looked down at the floor and at her foot rocking back and forth. “No. You’re right. I should have told you it was coming up.”

“Thank you.” Then he flashed her a grin. “When is my birthday, by the way?”

Lois threw up her hands, standing up. “How in the hell should I know? Krypton doesn’t have the same calendar as us.”

“Touché. How about, on which day do my parents celebrate Clark’s birth?”

She walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “Every single day of the year. Just like me.”

“Nice save,” he responded, kissing the top of her head.

“Thank you. I thought so too.”

Clark tilted her chin up and lightly kissed her lips. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll dash out and get us some breakfast?”

Lois threw him a big pout and batted her eyelashes. “All by myself?”

“Take a long shower and I’ll be back before you get out,” he replied with another kiss to her lips. “Trust me, I’ll be back.”

She smiled, unfastening her robe and letting slide down her arms to her hands, so that she walked to the bathroom naked. “Don’t worry, I know that.”

***

Inside the bathroom, Lois hung up her robe on the hook on the back of the door and reached inside her shower stall to turn on the water. When the water was at the correct temperature, she stepped inside and shut the door. She had been standing in the water just long enough to get herself and her hair wet when a pair of muscular arms snaked around her waist.

“That was fast,” she told him, turning around to give him a kiss. “Even for you.”

“That’s because I didn’t go for breakfast,” he admitted.

Lois grinned to herself.

Yep, totally irresistible. Lois — 1395, Clark — 5.

“Honey,” he murmured, deepening their kiss. “Do you remember me having my glasses on when we returned from the beach last night?”

Oh, darn. Stuck at home without his secret identity disguise. What shall you do?

***

Sunday — Late Afternoon

Clark watched as Lois opened the front door to the apartment and left it open as she carried a bowl of marinated chicken pieces out to the grill. He took one last x-ray glance around the whole courtyard. Clear.

Using his super speed, he blasted himself out of the apartment and into the sky. He zipped down to Langosta to see if he could find his old dark-framed glasses on the beach.

Between Nunk and a poolful of kids, he had been trapped inside all day. Lois had accused him of being paranoid. Actually, she had said “chicken,” but then claimed to be talking about dinner.

Maybe he was. She was right; he could have just put on a baseball cap and averted his face until he reached that alley two blocks away. But what if there had been a tabloid photographer outside the front door of the building who got a shot of him without his glasses? His new life with Lois was too important to risk it.

Clark hadn’t realized how dependent he had become on those frames since becoming Superman. Since before then, in fact. He sighed.

Superman landed on the beach, happy that it was still as deserted as it had been the previous night. It looked completely different in the light of day. He almost couldn’t believe he and Lois had made love on the sand.

It was almost laughable. He would take risks to make love with his wife, but he wouldn’t take any about being seen without his glasses. Only, he wasn’t laughing. It had been twice now he had been caught without his “disguise.” He was glad his wife had thought enough ahead to convince him to get a new pair while they were in Niagara.

Clark took one look and then another, trying to remember where on the beach they had been when Lois had pulled off his shirt. Over by the big rocks. He x-rayed the area and finally found the glasses, half-buried in the wet sand. One of the lenses broken. Terrific. He only hoped Lucy hadn’t forgotten to bring his new pair.

Superman picked up the glasses and took off into the air. The frames still looked okay. If he just replaced the lenses, these could work as his backup pair. He was thinking that if he made it through a whole pay cycle at the Daily Planet, he would treat himself to several more backups. If they had any funds left after paying the first and last month’s rent, plus a security deposit, on a new apartment.

He hovered above the courtyard and with a smile watched as his wife fumbled about trying to light the charcoal barbeque by the pool.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked, landing softly behind her.

Lois jumped, spilling her box of matches.

“Thank you, Superman,” she replied.

To Lucy and Jimmy — sitting nearby — her remark might have seemed sincere. But Clark caught her hint of sarcasm.

Lois stepped away from the grill and started to pick up the fallen matches.

Superman rearranged the charcoal to the correct position and had it started two seconds later. Thank you, heat vision.

His wife glanced up from where she was on her hands and knees picking up matchsticks. “Did you just stop by to rescue a damsel in distress, Superman, or did you come for chicken?”

“I understand Clark had some follow-up questions about Nightfall,” Superman explained, sticking to the script he and Lois had come up with for this farce in front of her sister and their friend. It was true, he did have more questions about Nightfall. Unfortunately, he still didn’t have any answers.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Superman, Clark stepped out to pick up the fixings for s’mores. He should be back soon.” Lois picked up the last match and stuck it back in the box. “You’re welcome to wait.” She stood up. “You’ve met Jimmy, of course.”

Superman nodded at him. And Jimmy grinned at being remembered.

“And this is my sister Lucy,” Lois said, indicating the slack-jawed brunette standing next to Jimmy. He remembered her well from their lunch in the park the other day.

“Nice to meet you,” replied Superman with another nod. He avoided shaking hands as Superman whenever possible.

“So, you took Lois on a date to Costa Rica, huh?” said Lucy, her awe suddenly disappearing. “She must have been putty in your hands.”

Superman tried hard not to change his facial expression, but he couldn’t avoid the discomfort flashing across his face. How could Lois have told her sister about last night?

“It wasn’t a date,” Lois jumped in, correcting her sister. “It was an interview.”

Oh, right. The first time they had gone to the beach. “I don’t date,” was all Superman could think to say. “I don’t want to make any woman a target for criminals.” So, he married her instead.

“Pity,” mumbled Lucy.

Jimmy shot his possible girlfriend a disturbed look. “And you wouldn’t do that to CK,” he defended Superman, even though Clark heard a hint of uncertainty to his friend’s tone.

“Clark knew where we were the entire time,” Lois told him.

“I’m sure Lois would prefer an hour on the beach with her husband to an hour with me,” Superman said innocently.

Lois started coughing on her sip of lemonade just the same. When she got herself under control, his wife avoided his eye and said, “That sounds nice. Maybe for our first anniversary, Perry will give Clark and me a few days off for a trip south.”

Oooh. A whole weekend at the beach with Lois. Superman raised a hand to his mouth to cover his smile.

“Oh, Lois! Clark’s glasses!” Lucy remembered out of the blue before taking them from of her purse and handing them to Lois. “Gosh, I hope he doesn’t have any trouble driving without his glasses.”

“He has his old pair,” Lois explained with a glance at Superman. “But they were giving him headaches.”

His wife, more like it, thought Clark. She never liked the black frames. Or, maybe she meant that losing them was causing him headaches. That was certainly true. “Clark is near-sighted, so I’m sure I won’t be cleaning up any extra traffic accidents. But I can take those over to him at the store, if it would make you feel better,” Superman suggested and, on cue, Lois handed him the glasses.

Just having a usable disguise in his hand again untied the knot in his stomach he had been fighting all day. As he was about to take to the air he heard the sound of a fire alarm.

“Jimmy, do you have your camera with you?” Superman inquired, hovering above the courtyard.

“Right here,” Jimmy said, pulling up his camera bag from beside his chair. “I almost forgot. I should get those action shots you promised me. Thanks, Superman. Perry would can me if I missed the opportunity twice.”

“I’m heading to a fire, would you like a lift?”

“Would I ever!” gushed Jimmy as Superman swooped him up in the cradle-hold he used for Lois.

They hadn’t been gone from the courtyard but a few seconds when Jimmy spoke up. “Do you always carry people like this, Superman?”

“Usually, Jimmy. Why?” the man in blue responded.

“Even Clark?” Jimmy tentatively probed, the discomfort in his voice shining through.

“Would you rather I didn’t carry you like this?” Superman set Jimmy down half a block from the smoking building. Clark could understand Jimmy’s point. He probably wouldn’t want to be carried in this manner by another man either. Next time, he would use the hold he used for his father, in which he stood behind and to the side of him and held onto him across the chest.

“Never mind. It’s not important,” Jimmy stated, wiping the issue from the sky. He pulled his camera out and jogged towards the fire as Superman disappeared in front of him in a blur.

Superman rescued the five people from inside the burning building and then went to stand outside with the crowd. He didn’t want the fire department to feel like he was usurping their duties. He had told the Fire Chief that when he had officially helped at his first fire. He would do search and rescue and only help with putting out fires when it became too dangerous for regular firefighters or when asked. That way the firefighters could concentrate on the fires without being distracted by searching for possible victims.

A blonde woman pushed through the crowd and came to a stop next to him as they watched the firefighters working. She slid her hand over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. “For old time’s sake.”

Superman took a step away from her, removing her hand from his chest. “There were no old times, Ms. King.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Linda said with a giggle.

“I would appreciate it if you would please refrain from taking such liberties with me, Ms. King. I am not interested in you in that way,” he told her in no uncertain terms.

Linda pressed her lips together. “Patched things up with the Missus then, Charlie?”

He raised a brow, but was interrupted from responding by a hysterical woman who approached him. “Superman! Please! Fluffy! Fluffy is still inside. Please, Superman. Please!”

He nodded to her and jogged back into the building.

Superman could hear Linda outside as he searched for the missing pet. The reporter had gasped and then started screaming, “Charlie! No! That’s a burning building! You’ll be killed. You stupid numbskull! You’re not Superman!”

He found the missing puffy white miniature poodle “Fluffy” scratching on a door to an apartment and set the dog outside, where he watched it run to its owner. He hovered above the apartment house and observed Linda with interest from within the smoke.

“See, your dog was outside the whole time! And now… Charlie…” Linda yelled at the dog’s owner. “Oh, God, Charlie!”

The reporter, who had humiliated his wife, was quickly becoming a frantic mess. If he was ever was allowed to mention Linda King’s name in his wife’s presence, he hoped it would be during another debate about everyone having a little good inside them. Even Linda had a soft spot for the poor, delusional Charlie King. But it was probably best not to mention Charlie’s friendship with the Metropolis Star reporter to his wife.

Linda ran to a fireman and grabbed his arm. “Superman ran into the building. He’s going to be killed. You must save him!”

Clark chuckled. He watched as the fireman shrugged Linda off his arm and looked at the reporter with concern. “Superman can handle himself, Miss,” the fireman told her.

“But he thinks he’s invulnerable,” she wailed at him.

“Ms. King,” said Jimmy from beside her, where he had been talking to witness. “Superman is invulnerable.”

“But that wasn’t Superman, you stupid pup. Superman’s dead. That was an impersonator who thinks he’s Superman,” Linda shrieked at the photographer.

Clark decided he better intercede before Linda told Jimmy about the amnesiac Superman she met a few days previously. He landed nearby and jogged up, dressed as Clark Kent. “Hi, Jimmy. Superman said he brought you here. Did you get a shot of him flying up through the smoke?”

“Hey, CK. No, I missed that shot. That sounds cool though,” replied Jimmy.

Linda King stood stiffly next to them, her eyes large with shell shock. “That couldn’t… it wasn’t Superman,” she stammered.

“It was,” Jimmy informed her, lifting up his camera. “And the Daily Planet has the photos to prove it.”

“But that couldn’t be…” Linda argued. “The real Superman wouldn’t…”

Clark resisted smiling as he watched Linda realize that it was the real Superman — not the married Superman impersonator — who had rebuffed her advances. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet,” he said, holding out his hand. “I understand you went to college with Lois.”

Linda’s jaw fell open, ignoring his hand. “No way! You’re Lois’s boyfriend? You? And the Ice Queen? Never!”

“Thank you, I think.” He smiled sheepishly. “And I would appreciate it if you would not speak about my wife in that manner, Ms. King.” He turned away from her and back to Jimmy.

Before he could suggest to his friend that they head back to the barbeque, Linda started ranting again. “Wife! You married Lois Lane? Are you nuts? The woman is a deadly killer! She murdered her first boyfriend!”

Jimmy’s looked at Linda with concern.

“Stop throwing around false accusations about my wife, Ms. King.” Clark gazed at the blonde reporter intensely and then his expression softened to pity with a shake of his head. “Come on, Jimmy. I’ve got everything I need here.”

“Me, too,” agreed Jimmy and they walked off.

Linda continued to yell at them.

“What’s the matter with her?” murmured Jimmy. “She’s psycho. No wonder Lois hates her so much.”

“Probably best not to mention this to Lois,” said Clark. His wife would not be happy to hear of him bumping into her old foe. Especially with his lips. Again.

Jimmy nodded in agreement.

“Wait here. I’ll run and get the car,” suggested Clark, jogging off as he realized that the Jeep Cherokee was back at the apartment.

“No need, CK. I’ll walk with you,” shouted Jimmy, but the man was already gone.

***

“Chicken’s ready!” Lois announced as Jimmy walked in.

“My, Lois,” Jimmy said, looking at the charred black pieces of meat being removed from the grill by Clark’s wife. “Blackened chicken. Yum.” His words didn’t seem to match his tone.

Lois shot him a glare. “The skin burned because of the sauce. It happens. Did you get any good photos of Superman?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answered. “I ran into CK. He gave me a lift back and then remembered he forgot to pick up chocolate bars for the s’mores and went back out.”

Lois handed Jimmy and Lucy each a plate with black chicken and a scoop of pasta salad. Out of the corner of her eye Lois caught her sister grimace at Jimmy.

Jimmy smiled weakly at Lucy and broadened the smile when he turned to Lois.

Wow, Jimbo! That’s some great fake smile he has there.

“You know, Lois, thanks a lot for the …” He cleared his throat. “… food, but I should really get these negatives back to the newsroom and develop them. Scoop the Met Star for the morning edition.” He set his untouched plate down on the table.

Lois watched as Lucy gratefully followed suit. “That’s so true!” she agreed with him too enthusiastically.

“You don’t need to go,” Lois suggested to her sister. “Since Jimmy’s going to be working…”

Did your sister actually just blanch at the idea of staying?

“He’s my ride,” Lucy said, picking up her purse and backing away from Lois and the charbroiled food. “Anyway, I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Lois pressed her lips together.

Your sister never let that stop her before.

“I’ll get you some paper plates and you can take it to go!” Lois said, running into her apartment. By the time she returned to the courtyard, her dinner guests had mysteriously vanished. “Humph!”

A tall, thin grey-haired man turned the corner of the courtyard. “Lois! There you are! You gave me the slip earlier, but I knew you’d have to return home sometime.”

The biggest non-sex-with-her-husband-induced grin that ever graced Lois’s face now appeared.

***

Clark arrived back at the courtyard from the parking garage with a bag of groceries just as Lucy and Jimmy were beating a hasty retreat. “Are you guys leaving already?”

Lucy gazed at him sadly and sighed. “It’s been really nice having you as my brother-in-law, Clark. A real adventure.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Had he done something to upset Lois? Although, for the life of him, he couldn’t think what. Had she wanted him to take her to the fire instead of Jimmy? She couldn’t be that mad, otherwise he’d be hearing her swearing up a storm.

Jimmy patted Clark’s arm and shook his head. “Have you been immunized against Typhoid?”

Clark still had no idea to what Jimmy was referring.

Lucy giggled. “Good one. Pizza?”

“Definitely!” Jimmy chorused. “Sorry, CK, we’d love to invite you to join us…”

“I don’t need pizza. Lois made dinner,” he explained the obvious.

Jimmy sighed. “If you say so, CK. I recommend you plead the need to go into the Daily Planet to write up the Superman story instead.” He lowered his voice with a glance back towards the courtyard. “I did.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “You lied to Lois?”

“It’s not quite a lie, CK. I do have to develop those photos…”

Yet for some reason Clark heard an unspoken “but” at the end of Jimmy’s statement.

Lucy and Jimmy each shot him another big grin.

What in the world was going on with them?

“If you want to survive into tomorrow, I recommend you do the same,” Lucy told him. “Perhaps you could convince your parents to invite you two to dinner?”

They were backing towards the exit now.

“Lois made dinner!” he repeated, exasperated. “Come on! It can’t be that bad.”

Lucy and Jimmy exchanged a look that Clark didn’t need to be telepathic to understand.

Jimmy shook his head. “We’re sorry to abandon you, CK, but… well… we’re not married to her. We don’t have to eat her food.”

Clark pressed his lips together as his so-called friend and sister-in-law left in a cloud of giggles.

“Fine!” he called to them. “More s’mores for us!”

Clark turned back towards the courtyard and literally bumped into a quickly departing Leo Nunk, who was mumbling, “No story is worth this!” He glanced up at Clark and shook his head. “Any last words?”

Not him too! Lois’s husband rolled his eyes and pushed past the man.

“Hey, it’s your own funeral, Kent!” called Nunk as he left.

Lois was sitting by the grill, her arms crossed, her lips pressed together, and her thoughts a million miles away.

Clark leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Clark,” Lois responded morosely. Then her tone became chipper. “Good news! I discovered a way to get rid of unwanted pests!”

Clark raised a brow, unpacking the s’more fixings from the bag. “Pests?”

“Never mind. Dinner’s ready!” she announced, handing him one of the plates from the table and a handful of silverware.

“Great! I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He smiled at her and she basked in the glow of his words. Then he looked down at the plate. It took all his Super strength to keep his lips turned up. Sitting on his plate was an unknown cut of chicken — reportedly — blackened beyond recognition and yet, at the same time, still gelatinous. “Wow! Lois. This looks…” He couldn’t think of a single positive sounding word. Why, oh why had Superman chosen truth as part of his credo?

“Awful? Gut-wrenching? Or perhaps just a simple ‘burnt’?” Lois suggested.

“I was leaning closer to interesting. I’ve never seen chicken quite like this before,” he told his wife honestly.

“Really?”

Wow, Lois must be grasping for straws if she actually took that as a compliment. She had warned him that she hadn’t born with the cooking gene. Okay, Kent, you’ve got to eat this. As her husband you can’t be the last nail in this coffin. A burial! Yes, that was exactly what this meal needed, Clark told himself.

He gazed at his wife lovingly and looked back down at the plate in his hand. He tilted down his glasses and x-rayed his food. Yep, still raw on the inside. Quickly, he heat zapped both of their plates so the food at least it wouldn’t be bloody or even pink.

“The pasta salad looks delicious,” he said as Lois sat down after bringing him a glass of lemonade.

Lois glanced at him and winked. “Perhaps we should save it for last.”

He winked back, picking up his chicken. “We’ve got s’mores for dessert.”

“Ooooh. Chocolate.” His wife grinned and then it faltered, as she watched his chicken go up to his lips.

Clark did a silent prayer thanking God for his invulnerability and took a bite. “Not bad.” Bad was too nice a word for how this chicken tasted. Horrible was a more accurate description. Horrendous and nauseating would work as well.

Lois glowed in his ‘praise’ and actually brought her own chicken up to her own lips. A second later she was spitting it back onto her plate. “Not bad?” she growled at him. “How in the world is this not the worst chicken ever cooked?”

“Well, technically…” Clark’s voice faded as he stopped himself from telling her that he had actually finished the cooking of the chicken with his heat vision.

“Have you ever had worse chicken?” Lois crossed her arms.

Clark thought about that, searching his memory for a nastier meal and coming up short. “No, but I might not have all my memories back yet,” he answered hopefully.

Lois slapped his arm and then started laughing. “Try the pasta salad. It’s edible. I’ve made it before.”

He took a bite and his taste buds danced for joy. He didn’t know if it was because the pasta salad was actually good or if it was just that, in comparison to the chicken, anything would taste good. “Tasty!”

His wife kissed his lips. “No tiptoeing around that word.”

“I…” Well, okay, he had to admit he had tiptoed around the truth when describing the chicken. “… love you.”

She smiled and grabbed the chicken off his plate, dumping it onto a third uneaten plate of food, which she carried to the trash. “Of course, you do, Clark.” She returned and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, kissing his cheek. “Everyone else bolted. You remained to face the wrath of Lois.” She added an eerie waver to her voice as she described her anger. “I don’t know why everyone else thought that I’d get mad because they didn’t like my chicken.”

Clark didn’t think it had anything to do with her anger, but more they wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the chicken as they could. He refrained from saying so. He had learned a thing or two since meeting Lois Lane… actually, being with Lois had been the best crash course on women he could ever take. And he had finally found something worse tasting than his feet to stick in his mouth.

***

Monday Morning

Lois handed Clark her coffee as they stepped into the elevator at the Daily Planet. Then she used both hands to straighten his tie. It was a crazy tie. Creative. Wacky. Colorful. Unique.

Just like your husband.

She wouldn’t change it, if he let her. He looked good in a suit.

“Nervous?” Lois whispered, kissing his lips lightly. Clark tasted a bit like the cake donut he was eating. They had gotten a late start and had grabbed breakfast on the go.

Well, it hadn’t been me who had suggested an early morning romp through the tulips.

“No. I can do this. If I can save the world, I can piece together a couple of words to create a readable story,” he replied, returning her kiss.

Oh, wait. Maybe it was me. Sorry.

Lois licked the powdered sugar off his lips and let her briefcase strap slide off her shoulder to the floor of the elevator. “I liked your final take on the Nightfall story. I just hope Perry won’t kill us for not turning it in sooner.”

Actually, it was definitely me. And I’m not sorry. Not sorry in the least.

“I did lose my memory for a couple of days,” he reminded Lois, leaning her against the wall of the elevator and kissing down her neck. “He can’t fault me for that, can he?”

Perry can do whatever he damn well pleases. He’s your boss. Now, is this what you two want to be doing during what could well be the last minute of privacy you get until you go home this evening?

Lois moaned and ran her fingers through Clark’s hair. Suddenly, his hands were empty and she was being thoroughly kissed as he lifted her against the side of the elevator. Her legs wrapped around him and she could feel him pressed against her. It was as if time were standing still as she felt him explore every inch of her body. The parts that were covered with clothing were caressed by his hands. The parts that weren’t, by his tongue.

The parts above the waist, you mean, Lois. It’s not like Clark licked your legs in the elevator. Much.

His hands glided up her legs, under her skirt, and up…

Up… up… and away…

Clark’s mouth came back to hers as the elevator finally chimed that they had reached the correct floor. Lois felt her feet return to the ground as a whirlwind straightened her clothing and hair, hung her briefcase back on her shoulder, and placed another light kiss on her lips.

Lois smiled at Clark and straightened his tie again. He held up her coffee cup, which now had what remained of his donut resting on top. The doors to the elevator opened and their first full day as reporters for the Daily Planet began.

***

The Epilogue

Several days before Halloween — Evening

“So,” Lois said, peering into the bedroom where Clark was lying on the bed still dressed in his business suit, staring up at the ceiling. “Let me get this straight, Mr. Glass-Half-Empty. You think that you only have bad luck?”

Clark sighed. “Yes, sometimes it seems the Fates have deemed it so.”

She pressed her lips together and leaned against the doorway. “And this counted as good luck?”

He was by her side holding her hands a moment later. “No. Never, Lois. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“So, it was bad luck?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. What I think about it really doesn’t matter, now does it? It doesn’t change the facts about what happened… or didn’t happen, as the case may be,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Let’s forget about it.”

Clark had been in a mood for the last two weeks. Depressed. Dejected. And in total denial of those feelings.

“No, I don’t think so. This is something we need to discuss. Firstly, let’s review your life… in terms of your good luck versus bad luck,” she said, as he slumped back to the bed. “In the past two months, you have become accepted and beloved for who you are by the entire world…”

“Lo-is!” he groaned.

“Good luck or bad luck, Clark?” she pressed on.

“Not the entire world,” he stated with a roll of his eyes.

Lois crossed her arms.

“Good luck, I guess.”

“You got and excel at your dream job at the Daily Planet. Good luck or bad luck?” she asked.

“Good luck. But Lois…” Clark started to whine and changed his tone to a retort. “I got fired from two jobs! Bad luck!”

“You and your parents are no longer under the thumb of Lex Luthor and Lexco.” Lois raised an inquiring brow.

He sighed. “Bad luck that Luthor kidnapped you and then died. Otherwise, good luck. But my parents will be living back in Smallville. It’s so far away…” His voice went soft.

Lois sat down next to him on the bed. She knew he would miss his parents on a daily basis now that they would no longer be living in the same city as him. Martha and Jonathan were more than ready, and actually thrilled, to consider Metropolis in their rearview mirror. MJ’s Café in Smallville was scheduled to open in the New Year.

Two points, Lois, for calling it like you saw it!

“Honey, it takes you two seconds to fly out to Smallville. Granted, my folks live there too, so luck-wise, it might be a wash.”

Clark gave her a half-hearted smile. “I bet your father was thrilled by the news.”

“There wasn’t any news to report to them, Clark. And stop thinking that my father hates you. He doesn’t. In fact, he’s happy to still be alive and not living on a charcoal briquette. So, you earned some bonus points with him during that whole Nightfall incident.” Lois nudged his arm. “Good luck?”

“It took me two tries to save the planet, Lois. Bad luck!”

He still saved the planet!

Lois harrumphed. “You met and married your fantasy woman. Good luck or bad luck, Clark?”

“Good luck. But then again, I was a total jealous idiot for the entire time we dated, so bad luck as well.” She saw him look at her out of the corner of his eye. “And you aren’t my fantasy woman, Lois. Dream woman perhaps, but you’re not quite kinky enough for my fantasies.” He shot her a grin to show her he was teasing.

We’ll just have to see about that, Clark Kent.

Lois glowered at him as her tongue crossed her front teeth. “Not funny, Clark.”

He reached up, cupped her jaw in his palm, and kissed her. “Just joking.”

Humph!

“And you got rid of that green-eyed monster by making love to a beautiful woman.” Lois shrugged. “Good luck or bad luck?”

“Losing my virginity to said beautiful woman — who also happened to be my wife — made me the luckiest man in the world.” He kissed her again. “Losing my memories and becoming re-infected by said monster, horrible insane luck.”

Lois licked her lips. “I don’t know about that. Losing your memories did gain you some new skills. I’ve been considering that very lucky indeed.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“You picked up some new skills as well, wife,” he said, moving closer to her. His hand coasted down her neck to her shoulder and then down her arm to her hand, which was sitting on her lap. Then he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “You weren’t the only lucky one in that scenario.”

“We moved out of my basement apartment that you hated into this one. You turned this trash heap into a home. The paparazzi don’t follow us anymore.” She laughed, thinking back to her barbeque fiasco. “Not after I offered Nunk some of my delicious chicken.”

Now, you only cook using your fingers on the telephone keypad. Excellent luck!

He joined her laughter. “Who knew your cooking skills were actually good for something?”

She slapped him playfully on the arm. Then her arm stayed on his as she felt his muscles.

Mmmm. Lois, how about we get this husband of yours undressed a bit? He’s wearing too many clothes.

“So, in the grand scheme of things, you see there is no such thing as good luck or bad luck,” she said, getting to the heart of her argument. “Things happen. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. It wasn’t the right time for us anyway. The one thing I can say for certain about you… when you fail at something, you try and try again until you get it right.”

“Oh? It was my sperm’s fault for not making you pregnant after we made love… what? Four times?… without precautions on our honeymoon?” This time the annoyed expression was on his face.

So, his sperm have no sense of direction. Big deal. There are worse things in life. Next time, I’ll be better prepared.

Lois gasped. Did her inner thoughts just say what she thought they did?

Me? No. Me say nothing! How about we get that husband into that costume of his?

“What?” Clark asked her with a perplexed expression.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just a strange thought crossed my mind.” Lois’s hands moved to his tie, loosening the knot. “Maybe it had to do with you being out in space, lowering your sperm count or something. Next time…” Oh, God! Had she really said that?

Yep!

“When we’re ready,” she amended. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble whatsoever, but until then…” She tugged on his tie, bringing his lips to hers. “We can keep in shape by practicing.”

“Practicing, huh?” A genuine smile graced his lips before she pushed him away.

“But first get undressed,” Lois commanded, jumping off the bed.

***

“Isn’t that how it’s usually done, Lois?” Clark inquired about his wife’s shift in priorities as he watched her open a cabinet in their wardrobe.

“I want you to try on the Halloween costume I got for you and make sure it fits,” she said, tossing him a white clothing box.

Clark rolled his eyes. What happened to making love? He spun out of his business suit and hung it on a hanger. “Lois, do we have to go? Perry would understand. I could say I had an emergency or something,” he suggested hopefully. “You know how much I hate wearing costumes.”

Lois stood up, holding a second white clothing box in her arms, and looked him up and down. “Right. No costumes for you.”

He glanced down at his blue suit he was still wearing. He crossed his arms and shot her a pressed lipped glare. “This isn’t a ‘costume’, Lois. It’s a ‘uniform’.”

“To-mah-to. To-may-to. Anyway, the Daily Planet party is mandatory. Perry said so. So…” Lois pointed up to the loft. “Why don’t you change up there?”

Clark looked with interest at her and then down at her box. “Why?” he asked slowly.

She hugged her box to her chest. “It’s a surprise. Go! And no peeking!” Lois practically ran into the bathroom.

Clark laughed, more curious than ever at what might be inside her box. But he could use his well-honed skill of patience to wait a few minutes.

“You don’t need to put it on over your blue suit, if you don’t want to…” Lois called from behind the bathroom door.

He raised a brow at that suggestion. With a shrug, Clark spun out of his blue suit and down to his briefs, hanging his suit up in the closet. Then he floated up to the loft to change into his costume. Why he needed to be up in the loft to change when he could just spin into the costume…? He shrugged. Lois hadn’t mentioned ordering costumes for them. He had just hoped if he had ignored the memo, they could get out of the party. Obviously not.

Clark flipped open the white box with dread. With relief, he looked at the contents. “What am I supposed to be?” he called down to his wife.

“You’re a smart man, Clark. You figure it out.” Her heard her titter and then start to swear. “Dammit, Clark! They gave me the wrong costume.” She sighed. “They promised me that this …” The laughter returned to her voice. “Oh, well, Wells had said … I guess fate is fate.”

“What?” Clark asked, his inquisitiveness was burning now. He had heard some kind of tinkling noise downstairs, but couldn’t place the sound.

“Don’t peek, cowboy.”

He glanced back down at the box. Cowboy? Black vest, beige shirt. Oh, yeah, that made sense. Sort-of. Was Lois dressing up at a cowgirl? Some sort of animal? Clark’s imagination was going wild with possibilities. He pulled on the shirt and vest and then pulled out the dark navy pants with maroon trim down the side. Didn’t cowboys wear jeans? At the bottom of a box was a pair of knee high black boots. Definitely not the cowboy boots he expected, more like English riding boots. Maybe he wasn’t a cowboy after all. Maybe it was more like post Civil War cowboy? A ranger?

He leapt down to their bedroom. “Okay. I’m dressed.”

Reluctantly, the bathroom door opened and Lois wearing… her calf-length Macintosh raincoat. So, she was embarrassed by her costume. Well, she had said they had made a mistake. She had tied up her hair so that her neck was exposed. So far, he liked it. She should show off that beautiful neck of hers more often.

Lois looked him up and down and a huge smile appeared on her lips. “Nice.”

He gazed down at the costume with skepticism, still not sure what exactly he was supposed to be. “Lois, are you sure this is a cowboy costume?” he asked.

She chuckled and walked up to him. “Let’s just fix a few things.” She bit her lip as she removed his glasses, setting them on the table next to their bed. Then she went back to the cabinet where she had removed the costume boxes and brought out a holster.

Okay, that would make him more of a cowboy… but…

Lois fastened the belt around his hips and then his thigh. “Oh, yes, that’s better.”

Clark took the gun out of his holster and looked at it. “Lois, this isn’t a pistol. It’s a…” His eyes went wide as he turned and looked at himself in the bedroom mirror. “A… blaster!”

“Uh-huh.” She wrapped her arms around him. “My very own space cowboy.”

If he was … Clark’s heart began to race. “Lois, do I get to see your costume now?”

Lois stepped away and a pout emerged. “No.”

“Lo-is?”

“Well, okay, but they messed up and gave me the wrong costume, so it doesn’t match yours…” she warned him.

“You were going to be Han Solo, too?” He winked. “Let me guess! C-3PO?”

She swatted at him. “Ha-ha.”

He tilted his head and saw her bare ankles. “No fuzzy legs, so we can scratch Chewbacca off the list.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and he heard the tinkling noise again.

“Lois, if you don’t open that coat, I’m going to peek…”

“Fine!” Lois pressed her lips together. “Cheater.” She opened her coat and exposed… Clark swallowed. Well, there was still a gold bikini, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of maroon scarves, Lois was draped in teal blue scarves. She dumped her coat over a chair. “It was supposed to be Princess Leia’s gold bikini, but… no! they had to go and mess…”

Clark cleared his throat. “No, this is fine.”

Lois looked down at herself and then at their full-length mirror. “Really? It’s a harem costume. And when I walk or move my hips…” She demonstrated and there was that tinkling noise again as the hanging coins and gold chains on her costume jostled together. She turned back to Clark and wiggled her hips. “I could always do the dance of the seven veils.”

He nodded enthusiastically.

She laughed. “Honestly?”

Clark nodded again as she pulled off one of the scarves and exposed most of her chest, except for the little bit still covered by the gold bikini.

She started to dance, jingling her hips and swaying her shoulders. She walked over to him, looking at him through the blue scarf.

“Lois, remember when I said that you were only my dream woman, not my fantasy woman?” Clark asked her, his voice sounding husky even to his own ears.

She batted her eyelashes innocently through a slit cut in the scarf. “Uh-huh.”

“I lied.”

Lois threw the scarf up into the air and he caught it. Then she turned around slowly, gyrating her hips as her hands and arms moved gracefully through the air. A smile grew on her lips. “Me, too,” she admitted.

She too, what? Lied? About what?

“These aren’t our Halloween costumes.”

Clark gulped as he fell into the chair. Did she really expect him to concentrate on what she was saying as she danced like that?

She bounced her eyebrows at him with delight, pulling another scarf off from her costume. Lois wrapped the scarf around his neck as she bent over to kiss him. “I hear that green is the new blue.”

What?! Clark had no idea what she was talking about.

Lois winked at him. “Peter.”

THE END

Disclaimer: I do not own these wonderful, sexy, and funny characters. I borrowed them from Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. I do not own Lois’s inner voice, whom I’ve nick-named Ivy, Nymph of Mischief; I borrowed Lynn S.M.’s muse from With Apologies to Female Hawk and she just won’t leave. (I mean, would you if you knew you could go on a honeymoon with Lois and Clark and could see and feel everything Lois does?) I borrow many lines of dialogue and many plot points from Bryce Zabel’s beautifully written and very entertaining episode: “All Shook Up” from the above-referenced television show. I do not claim to own them, but I have taken them and put them into a blender and come up with my own concoction. I would like to thank all the above-referenced writers, including Tony Blake and Paul Jackson whom I quote directly, for their inspiration.

I also borrowed a theme or two from Larry Niven’s article: Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex. Niagara (1953) is a film directed by Henry Hathaway, starring Marilyn Monroe and Joseph Cotton. The image Lois has of the dead Superman comes from Dan Jurkens’s artwork in Death of Superman (1992). Jedi Knights, Han Solo, Chewbacca, C-3PO, and Princess Leia are all borrowed from George Lucas’s Star Wars films. Princess Leia’s gold bikini is from Return of the Jedi (1983), a movie written by George Lucas and Lawrence Kasdan. The “Silly Putty” name is a trademark of Crayola, LLC. Peter Pan is a character created by J.M. Barrie from the play of the same name. “Thomas Guide” is a street atlas published by Thomas Bros. Maps.

I would like to thank my wonderful and superb Betas: DW and IolantheAlias! It was DW’s idea for Clark’s real Halloween costume to be Peter Pan. Thank you again for all your assistance. I would also like to thank Amber for her thorough and excellent GE job.

My Love

By Anonpip <anonpip@gmail.com>

Rated PG

Submitted March 2012

Summary: Clark loved Lois from the moment he met her, even if he didn’t understand why.

All characters are the property of Warner Bros, December 3rd Productions, ABC, and anyone else who may have a legal claim on them. The story, however, is mine.

A huge thank you to AntiKryptonite for beta-reading! This story was very awkward before her talented hands got a chance to work their magic.

Also thank you to Iolanthe for GEing this for me.

***

1993

I stared after her as she walked away, clearing my head before turning back to Mr. White. This interview wasn’t going that well, and getting flummoxed over a beautiful woman wasn’t going to help things.

Why would I get flummoxed anyway? It had been years since high school, when I was so wrapped up in all the ways I was different that I hadn’t really known how to fit in. By the time I got to my senior year and started dating Lana, I’d learned how to cover up my insecurity enough so that no one noticed. And once I did that, I had found that while I was never so popular that I had a gaggle of girls following me around the way some of the guys in college seemed to, I was also never short of female attention.

So why would one pretty girl, who also seemed a bit brash and egotistical, cause my heart to flutter a bit too fast and make me want to forget my interview with Mr. White — an interview I’d been dreaming of for years now — just to follow her? It was crazy.

Although a few minutes later, when I made my way out of the Planet without a job, I thought maybe I should have followed her anyway. Just in case, you know. It couldn’t have gone any more poorly than my interview had.

***

I shivered involuntarily. What was it about the big city? I’d only been here two days and already I felt like I had girl trouble. I didn’t usually have too much of that. While I had my share of admirers, and I did have trouble letting them down, I also tried not to lead anyone on, and so typically, I was able to let things fade into friendship. The few times I’d been interested in someone myself, that had generally gone well, too.

While Lana hadn’t noticed me at all before I got over my awkwardness in high school — which meant that back in those days I would have said girl troubles ruled my life — after that things had come easy. I hadn’t really spent anytime agonizing over Bailey before we started dating in my sophomore year of college, and then that relationship had seemed to fall apart slowly before settling into a good friendship my senior year.

Similarly, Jude and I had just sort of ended up together one night when I was in Ireland, and both were okay with it being over when people started getting suspicious and I felt it was time to move on. Although, I guess, now that I thought about it, maybe it was the fact that people were getting suspicious of me that made Jude okay with my leaving.

But nothing seemed that easy now.

On the one hand, there was Cat. Cat was attractive — there was no denying that. Not that you could deny it. She didn’t exactly hide her… attributes. And I sometimes thought that she would probably be a nice girl, if she could turn off the sexy seductress thing. I mean, she did own a sweatshirt and I imagined she hadn’t bought it simply to fool me. She probably didn’t walk around her apartment alone wearing the dresses she wore to work.

But she couldn’t seem to turn off the seductress thing, and that was a problem. A problem because she seemed interested in me, but I found it hard to be anything but a bit scared of her when she was like that. Besides, she wasn’t really interested in me. She was interested in the way I looked — she didn’t know me at all. I shook my head. I was attractive enough, I knew that. But I’d never attracted this sort of attention before, and I didn’t like it. I generally preferred to be part of the background.

And then there was Lois. Unlike Cat, who couldn’t seem to keep her hands off me when we were in the office together, I wasn’t sure Lois even knew I existed as anything more than an annoyance. To be fair, she didn’t seem to notice anyone else as a person either.

Perry and Jimmy were both fond of her (although it was hard to tell how much of Jimmy’s interest was because of the crush he had on her) and she seemed warmer towards them than anyone else. And still, she was hardly a warm ray of sunshine when interacting with them.

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what it was I was interested in anyway. Did I really want to be involved with someone as self-absorbed as Lois was?

But was she really? I wasn’t convinced. Sometimes she seemed so insecure.

I shook my head. Lois Lane was an enigma. And much as I may have wanted to, it was unlikely I’d ever solve this particular mystery.

***

1994

I knocked on her door timidly, not sure she wouldn’t push me away. If she bothered to open the door at all. I tried to remind myself that she’d asked for me earlier, and she’d run right into my arms. But then she’d seemed to collect herself, and the girl who had walked away from us all had seemed too closed off for anyone, even her best friend.

Was I even that anymore? Or had I pushed too hard and lost that role in her life?

I shut my eyes in frustration. I wanted to be a part of Lois’ life, any part at all. I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing her everyday. If she didn’t love me, and she had done a pretty good job recently of convincing me that she didn’t, then I wanted things to go back to the way they had been.

I sighed. I wasn’t sure that was possible. My behavior recently couldn’t exactly be seen as supportive. Lois had been infuriated with me before today, and I couldn’t deny that she had good reason.

The fact that I had been right about her fiancé probably didn’t justify my actions.

I knocked again, not sure if she hadn’t heard my first knock or was choosing not to answer. I listened for sounds in her apartment and could easily pick up her heartbeat. There were no tears or sniffles, though, so she wasn’t crying. Nor were there any sounds that indicated she was coming to the door to open it. I wasn’t sure if this could be classified as disrespecting her privacy, but I decided to glance inside. Just to make sure she was okay.

What I saw made my heart break. She wasn’t crying, even silently. She was just staring out the window. But the look on her face was worse than if she was crying. She was just so… blank. Her knees were curled up to her chest, with her arms around them. She wasn’t a ball per se, but close. And she was rocking herself slightly back and forth.

She just looked… dead inside. Or something. Just broken, I guess.

I sighed, not sure what to do. Should I leave her there since she wasn’t answering the door? Did she even realize I was here? Given the look on her face, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she hadn’t heard me at all.

It was that thought that made me decide. If she was having some sort of break down, and given the look on her face, I couldn’t say for sure that wasn’t a possiblility — it certainly would be a reasonable response to the events of the day — I needed to go inside. To make sure she was safe, and to get her medical help if necessary.

I ran outside so I could fly home. I had a spare key to her place — she’d given it to me months ago so I could feed her fish while she went to California for a few days to visit Lucy. Somehow she’d forgotten about it, or I could only assume so, since I didn’t think Lois would want to admit the level of comfort it would require to let someone else have a key to her apartment.

I was back inside and working my way through her many locks within two minutes. Still, despite the fact that working at normal speed, it took at least another minute before I was inside, Lois didn’t stir when I opened the door. Nor did she respond to the noise of the closing of the door, except to turn her head and look at me blankly.

Still, the look was reassuring. She wasn’t near catatonic or something.

I moved toward her slowly, not wanting to startle her, but when I got close, she moved over on the couch to make room for me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. She was okay.

“He was awful,” Lois said quietly, once I’d settled in beside her and taken her into my arms.

I didn’t say anything. What could I say? Now was hardly the time to say “I told you so”, and anything else would irk her. It wasn’t like I had made a secret of my suspicions.

“He had Superman locked up in a cage,” she said quietly.

I gasped, and mistaking the reason for that gasp, Lois nodded her head. “It was in the wine cellar where I found Henderson to deliver my statement. It was covered in glowing green and awful. Even Henderson looked sickened by it. It looks like Superman got away, but still. He locked him in a cage.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say. Obviously, I wasn’t supposed to know about the cage, and now was hardly the time for the Superman confession.

“He was even more awful than you thought, huh?” she asked, and I nodded. It was true. Somehow, despite the fact that I would have said I’d put nothing past Luthor, I hadn’t expected him to be so… purely evil. Of course, I wasn’t talking about the cage. That hadn’t surprised me at all.

It was his words about Lois. I had thought, as much as it had sickened me, that he really cared about her. I’d seen them together, and I had to admit, I thought he was sincere. But given his words just before their wedding, I had been wrong. No one could love Lois and think she was “too independent”. No one could love her and want to change her in any way. She was perfect. Utterly perfect.

I rested my head against her, sick with myself for being relieved at Luthor’s death. But if this was the only way for Lois to be safe…

She got quiet after that, and not knowing what to say, I stayed quiet, too. After a long time, maybe an hour, Lois sighed. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “After everything I put you through, you shouldn’t be here for me. But I’m glad you are. That you’re still my friend.”

“Always,” I whispered back. And I meant it. I would always be her friend. Given the way I felt about her, anything else was just too painful to comprehend. And while I may hope to someday be more than just her friend, for today, it was enough. It really was.

***

1995

I did lazy barrel rolls through the sky. Not that I felt much like doing barrel rolls. I was just hoping that pretending I was happy would make me happy. But I guess that trick didn’t work when you had a good reason to be unhappy.

Yeah, you probably can’t trick your brain into thinking you’re happy when you’ve just lost everything you ever wanted, right after you started to feel sure you were going to have it.

I sighed as I switched courses and made my way towards my apartment. I briefly considered a trip to Smallville, but decided against it. My parents would be great, I was sure of it, but I wasn’t really sure I was up for seeing them together — happy and in love.

While it clearly wasn’t true — I had other dreams as well — it felt as though that’s all I’d ever wanted. Someone to share my life with, the way Mom and Dad shared theirs. Someone who would know me for who I am, all of me, and love me anyway.

I had thought I’d found that in Lois. I had been sure of it. I mean, she’d never seemed even vaguely bothered by Superman’s being an alien. And recently, well, she was the one who came to see me and tell me she thought it was time we stopped playing games and admitted we wanted to be together.

So, if she wanted Clark and she wanted Superman… how could she not want me? My eyes shut in pain as I thought the words, as I realized that this was the heart of the problem. She didn’t want me. Even when Clark was no longer just an annoyance for her, and even when he came as a package deal with the superhero she’d been gaga eyes for since she met him, it just wasn’t enough.

And I knew that, really. I knew I didn’t deserve her. But I thought… I had really thought that it was going to work out.

She told me once that she loved me as a friend — the last time I handed her my heart on a platter. Maybe that was the problem. Had she gotten confused? Since that time, maybe she’d just learned to lean on me more as there was no one else around to lean on. And so she’d confused her friendly feelings for romance. And then when I presented her with a ring, she was struck with the startling realization that she had made a mistake. That she didn’t want me — she never had and she never would.

The phone rang, but I didn’t answer it. I wasn’t really in a good place to talk to anyone. It eventually went to my machine, and I sat in the dark apartment listening to the sound of my voice telling the caller that I’d call them back.

“Clark?” her voice, in the dark, sounded intimate, despite coming out of the tinny speakers of the answering machine. “I want to talk to you… Please. I think you misunderstood.”

Misunderstood? What was there to misunderstand? I asked her to marry me and she said no. It didn’t seem to me that there could be that many interpretations of what had happened there.

“I just want to talk, Clark. Please… Well, maybe you’re out. Just call me, okay?”

I moved over to the machine to turn the sound down, so I wouldn’t be able to hear it if she called again. I didn’t think I could bear to hear her voice right now. It just hurt too much.

I’d been in love with her for two years now. For two years, I’d done little more than pine for her while she adored my alter-ego, a criminal, an annoying DEA agent. Maybe it was time to move on.

But I wasn’t sure I could. I’d never felt this way before — this sure of my feelings. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Lois. How could I just move on? I wouldn’t ever meet someone else I felt this way about, I was sure of it. Maybe this was some sort of Kryptonian thing — maybe Kryptonians mate for life. And maybe if I had grown up on Krypton, I would have met a nice female Kryptonian, fallen in love, and stayed with her forever.

It seemed hard to believe I’d feel for her what I felt for Lois, but maybe.

But now I lived on Earth and while the people here do mate for life, it’s different than the way I feel. They claim ever-lasting love, but don’t seem to really feel it.

Although, that isn’t fair. My mom and dad seem to. So, it’s not like I fell in love with a being that isn’t capable of feeling that way. It’s just that she doesn’t feel that way about me.

I pulled the phone out of the wall so I wouldn’t hear it if it rang again, and headed to bed.

***

1996

I stared down at her face, relaxed in sleep. I couldn’t believe this was finally real. After all the time waiting and hoping, and then all the false starts, not to mention some pretty substantial mistakes on my part.

But that was all in the past. Today, everything was right with the world. I smiled down at her. I almost couldn’t believe it — it didn’t seem possible that something I had wanted for so long could actually be mine.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she asked, sleepily, smiling up at me.

“I’m busy,” I whispered back.

“With what?” she asked me with a smirk. “You’re just lying there.”

“Looking at my beautiful wife,” I told her, leaning in to give her a kiss. I saw her face light up just a bit as she comprehended my words.

“Suck-up,” she muttered before our lips met.

We were quiet for a long time after that, enjoying getting to know each other in ways that were still new to us. When we were finished, I thought Lois would drift right back to sleep, but she seemed awake now. “It’s a good thing we got rid of that curse, huh?” she asked me with a grin. “Whatever would we have done tonight otherwise?”

I chuckled. “You kidding? We’d probably be hot on the trail of some story by now.”

Lois’ mood seemed to darken slightly. “Am I that much of a work-a-holic?”

“It was a joke, Lois,” I told her. “And I said ‘we’, not ‘I’.”

“Based on truth,” she replied. “And you’d only be there ‘cause I’d make you.”

“You like to work hard. That doesn’t make you a work-a-holic. We are here, aren’t we?”

She smiled at me. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Me neither,” I told her, pulling her closer.

We lay in silence for a moment, before, her voice soft, Lois said, “You know, I never really thought I’d get married. For awhile, I didn’t really want to — you know, didn’t want to end up like Mom and Daddy. Later… I guess, I got over that. Realized all marriages weren’t like that. But then after the thing with Claude… Well, I doubted I’d even meet someone given that I swore off dating other reporters.”

“I’m glad you were willing to bend the rules for me,” I whispered, holding her closer.

She smiled up at me wanly. “And then after Lex… Well, I didn’t see how I could trust my own judgment anymore.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” I reminded her.

“Like almost marrying a crime boss?” Lois replied, her eyebrows raised.

“You are not the only one,” I told her. “Lots of mob bosses’ wives don’t know what they are getting into when they get married.”

“I don’t think they are quite that clueless. They may not know they are marrying into the mob, but they don’t think their husband-to-be is a giving, wonderful philanthropist.”

“Luthor was only so dangerous because so many people believed his façade. He was an incredible actor,” I reminded her.

Lois sighed. “It doesn’t matter, really. If I wasn’t so easily fooled by disguises, I would have known you were Superman immediately.”

“And that would be a bad thing?” I asked, surprised to hear this.

Lois shrugged. “Would you have believed I love you, Clark, if I had known you were Superman from the beginning?” She smiled slightly, and continued before I could answer, “Would I even have loved Clark? I don’t know if I would have been able to see past Superman long enough to really get to know you.”

I held her tighter, not wanting to admit that this made me a little glad she hadn’t seen through the disguise. Even if she was saying she agreed with that, it was still a sensitive subject for us.

“I didn’t really think I’d get married either,” I told her instead.

She looked up at me in surprise. “You? With your parents?”

I shrugged. “I guess I don’t mean I never thought I’d get married. When I was a kid, I did. As much as I thought about it. But not since I was… maybe thirteen or so. When I realized I was different. For the longest time, I didn’t even know how to have friends with this big secret between me and everyone else. And then once I got past that, I learned how to act normal…

“Well, I guess at some point I thought I could get married, but it wouldn’t be the kind of marriage I wanted. The kind Mom and Dad have, where there are no secrets. I didn’t want to marry someone who didn’t know about all of me, and yet, I didn’t see how I’d meet someone who fit everything I needed to let them know.”

“What’s on that list?” Lois asked me with interest.

I smiled at her, holding her closer to my side. “Someone who could accept me for who I am. Who loved me in spite of it. And then later, could deal with having to share me with the world, since I can’t imagine a life where I don’t use all that I can do.”

“That’s why I love you,” Lois interrupted quietly. “Or at least part of it. Sharing you with the world is the price I have to pay to marry someone who wants to make the world a better place. I think it’s a pretty good deal for me.”

I shrugged. “I’m married to someone who wants to make the world a better place. But I bet it won’t be too common for me to be sleeping in bed without you.”

Lois shrugged. “Well, okay, I married someone who wants to make the world a better place and has some extra help to do it. On the other hand,” she smiled at me devilishly, “I get to have sex on the ceiling. I think I’m still okay with the trade.”

I chuckled at her words, carrying her back to the ceiling.

Lois nuzzled into me. “Not quite yet.”

“We can just lie here,” I told her quietly, hovering with her lying on top of me. It was very relaxing. Intimate, but not sexual really. “This is exactly what I wanted,” I told her quietly. “Total acceptance, so I can do this and still be a normal husband.”

“You’ll never be normal,” Lois interrupted me to say. “You’re too weird.”

I shook my head at her teasing. “You’d be bored with normal,” I told her.

She grinned at me. “Is that why I love you? Because you’re weird?”

I shrugged, then wrapped my arms around her so she didn’t fall back on the bed.

“Can I ask you something?” Her face got serious for a moment and I nodded my head, wondering what she could want to know. “When you mention what you wanted, and thought of, it’s all about how your wife would feel about you. What about how you would feel about her? Would you have married me even if you didn’t love me just because I loved you?”

I thought about her words for a moment, trying to find the right words to express my thoughts. “No, I don’t think I would have. But you’re right. I wasn’t thinking it through that way. I guess I thought… if I met someone like that, they’d have to be someone special, and so I would probably love them.”

“And if you hadn’t?” she asked me.

“I hadn’t really thought about that, but I don’t think I would have married you otherwise.”

Lois nodded. “Probably not. If you were that sort of guy, you would have dated Mayson.”

I frowned slightly. Thoughts of Mayson still made me a little sad. Even if she hadn’t been right for me, she had still been a pretty great person. “Mayson didn’t like Superman,” I pointed out.

“You didn’t know that at first,” Lois replied.

I nodded. “I guess, since what I wanted was what Mom and Dad have, while I never explicitly thought it, being in love was important to me.”

“Well, lucky I’m so lovable then,” Lois giggled.

I pulled her face down to mine for a kiss. “That you are,” I told her.

“Sugar and spice, that’s me,” she smiled.

“I was thinking more passionate and sexy,” I told her as we floated back down to the bed.

“I’m okay with that,” Lois said after a moment of thought.

“Back when you did think you’d get married,” she said, leaning her head down on my chest, “was it like this?”

I chuckled. “Since I was a kid, no. I don’t think the naked woman part was really on my radar screen yet, but I’m pretty happy with it now.”

She reached out and tickled my side before placing a kiss on my chest. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“No,” I told her, my voice soft, as I wrapped my arms around her again. “It wasn’t like this. I was happy, but not like this. I was with someone I loved, but not like I loved you. I never imagined I’d love anyone as much as I love you.”

Lois lifted her head to look at me, tears in her eyes. “I feel the same way.”

“I know,” I told her, before kissing her again and effectively ending our conversation.

THE END

Lois Rules! — A Story

By VirginiaR <lc.virginiaR@gmail.com>

Rated PG

Submitted May 2012

Summary: What if canon Clark actually wrote a Lois Lane Manual for Alt-Clark?

By VirginiaR (for the story surrounding the Rules. The Rules themselves had many authors.)

Author’s Note: Inspired by Lois Lane 101 — A Handbook, compiled by: VirginiaR, Deadly Chakram, Lynn S.M., Darth Michael, Mouserocks, Shimauma, Framework4, Christina, Shallowford, Lara Joelle Kent, SJH, Classicalla, and Olive

***

Lois Rules! — A Story

Clark removed from the printer the set of rules for living with Lois Lane that he had compiled as a gift for the Clark in that other parallel dimension. H.G. Wells had stopped by briefly that morning to say that they had finally found the other Clark’s missing Lois. Herb had said he would be back later that evening with all the details. They were both sure Lois would love to hear all the dirt about the disappearance of her other self.

He three-hole punched the list and put it in a fancy binder. Clark would gift wrap his gag gift and have it ready for Herb to take back to the other Clark. He hoped that the other Clark would appreciate the humor intended.

Suddenly, his hearing picked up a radio call on a police scanner about men with guns at Tealburo Airport. Duty calls! Clark hadn’t yet had a chance to wrap up his gift, so he stuck it in his desk drawer, which he then locked. He would hate for his wife to see it and think he had been serious. He spun into his blue Suit and flew out the window.

***

“What’s this?” Clark asked as H.G. Wells handed him a thin gift-wrapped package.

Herb smiled knowingly. “Clark said it was a little something to celebrate finding your soulmate.”

The other Clark flipped open the folded label.

I hope this helps. Clark

PS: Don’t open near Lois

With curiosity Clark tore open the paper to reveal a fancy notebook. The cover indicated that the title of the book was:

Lois Lane 101: Rules To Live By

A Handbook on How to Understand, Survive, and Thrive in a Relationship with the Multicolored Kryptonite called Lois Lane

Clark chuckled. “I could use something like this.”

He flipped to the title page, and his chuckles turned to outright laughter. Handwritten in pencil in Lois’ distinct scrawl was the following note:

Really, Clark? Kryptonite? I’m not as bad as that, am I? Congratulations on finding your Lois, Clark! Hope you don’t give her as much trouble as my Clark gave me. L.

Clark turned the page. The handwritten notes continued through-out the list.

Rule #1 — Never talk to Lois while making love. (you never know what stupid thing you say will cool her off.)

- I can’t believe he considered THIS is Rule #1. Really, Clark?

- It’s simply not true! The only thing (besides this list) that cools my ardor is that one time he mistakenly called me “baby” while we were kissing. It’s derogatory, insulting, and freezes my inner core faster than super breath. THAT should be Rule # 1 — NEVER call me Baby!

- Of course, now that I think about it, Clark isn’t as verbose as he used to be in the heat of passion. I’ve often wondered why that it is.

Rule #2 — Feed chocolate, often. More than once a day, preferably.

- I’m mistaken; THIS should be Rule #1!

Rule #3 — Lois NEVER feels guilty.

- THIS is not true. There was that one time I… No, well, there was… no, I was right that time, too. Give me a minute…

Rule #4 — Always keep an eye on her, she’s slippery.

- Again, not true. He’s just gets distracted, and I cannot always wait.

Rule #5 — NEVER trust her when she says that she will stay out of trouble.

- I don’t LOOK for trouble, it just happens to find me.

Rule #6 — Keep well hydrated with coffee, wine, and cream soda.

- I also accept chocolate drinks such as real ice-cream shakes in the summer and hot cocoa in the winter (but it should be made with mini-marshmallows, real chocolate, and whipped cream, too).

Rule # 7 — DON’T let her see this list.

- Well, TOO late for that one, (See punishments under Rule #1), but really, Clark, don’t let your Lois see this.

Rule #8 — Water her plants for her; they’ll die otherwise.

- What? You’re supposed to water them once every other month, right? And intermittently with cold coffee?

Rule #9 — Even when Lois is wrong, she’s right.

- OK! WINNER! This should be Rule # 1!

- PS: I’m never wrong.

Rule #10 — When all else fails, refer back to rule #2.

- Part B — If chocolate doesn’t work, try an apology. You’ve probably done something to tick your Lois off, like writing this list.

- Part C — If A & B don’t work, remember Rule #9.

Rule #11 — Expect Lois to be high maintenance, but she is worth it.

- Completely false! Well, except for the part where I’m worth it — that part is right! I just like things the way I like things.

Rule #12 — Just be upfront about the whole Superman thing. It’ll save you a world of headaches in the long run.

- So very true! Of course, with you being out (really sorry about that — A-ha! I knew I felt guilt! Oh, wait, not my fault, totally Tempus’s fault — never mind.), this really isn’t an issue. Moving on…

Rule #13 — Don’t eat Lois’ food. When in doubt, order out.

- Okay, now this one just hurts. (adding extra day for punishment from Rule #1). I can cook. I do a mean pasta salad and a terrific hot fudge sauce. Dan Scardino says my Rumaki is to die for! (And, no, he didn’t mean that literally.) I’ve also recently learned how to pop popcorn and fry eggs and bacon.

Rule #14 — She’s top banana.

- No problem with this Rule. It’s true.

Rule #15: Chumpy is a word.

- Yes, it is. Just look it up in your dictionary. It’s there.

- PS: Don’t use it to describe me.

Clark set down the list and walked over to his bookcase where he removed his dictionary. Sure enough, penciled into the margin in Lois’ handwriting was:

Chumpy (adj): someone who’s a chump.

He returned the dictionary to his bookshelf with a quiet chuckle and went back to looking at his gift.

Rule #16 — She cheats at poker, but don’t call her on it.

- Not true! Perry cheats, I’m just good. Clark is horrible. He just can’t bluff to save his life. (Sorry.)

Rule #17 — Never get between Lois and a story.

- Obvious.

Rule #18 — Don’t let her hold any food intended for Bobby Bigmouth.

- Now there he’s being mean again. I only hold the desserts until I make sure we get good info. If Clark doesn’t want me to eat Bobby’s food, he should take me out to eat more often! Better yet, get me a little something to nibble on while we’re waiting for Bobby to show.

Rule #19 — No matter how ridiculous her hunch sounds, take it seriously. More often than not, she’s right.

- That’s also true. Now he’s just being a sweetie. He must have known I’d find this list.

Rule #20 — Lois doesn’t always follow her three rules to live by.

- Wonder what three rules he’s talking about?

Rule #21 — Keep away from people named Dan.

- Daniel was a dear. True, he stepped on Clark’s toes, had absolutely no taste when it came to art, and tried to steal me away from Clark, but it didn’t work, now did it?

Rule #22 — Keep away from people named Lex.

- So true. BTW — Lex has a creepy son Lex, Jr. This applies to him too.

Rule #23 — Keep away from people named Maxwell — especially if they are a doctor.

- More true than #21 and #22! If your Lois gets amnesia, best to take her home, and you be the doctor.

Rule #24 — Remember. As fragile as your own heart is, so is her own. She’s had a rough life.

- I’m going to cry. Clark Kent is the best.

Rule #25 — Actually, don’t trust anyone attracted to Lois. For some reason, she’s a slime-magnet.

- Hee, hee. Does he realize this includes the both of you, too, Clark? True about me attracting slime though (with one or two exceptions).

Rule #26 — If Lois says she’s not up to anything, she’s lying. She usually is. Feel free to stalk from a reasonable distance.

- I don’t lie! If I’m up to something, it usually takes place AFTER he asks. Stalk? Ha! Hover is more like it.

Rule #27 — In case stalking backfires, run. Or come up with lame excuse and run. If in Superman outfit, fake an emergency.

- I can so totally picture this happening… Why is that? Also, Superman doesn’t “fake” emergencies… does he? Grrrrrr.

Rule #28 — Be careful with her skull. She may seem thickheaded sometimes, but a bump on the noggin will make her forget the best guy in the universe is her boyfriend…twice…

- Twice? This happened twice?

Rule #29 — Quit looking at her legs, or you’ll never get any work done.

- So true.

- Addendum B — Same holds true of my chest.

- Addendum C — Same holds true of my eyes.

- Addendum D — Same holds true of my… (fill in the blank).

Rule #30 — Give Lois a break with the Suit, she may find you a little too irresistible. Attempt to save all hints at nookie for the bedroom (and that includes all attempts at seduction.)

- But I like the Suit! Okay, we’ve had a bit of bad luck flirting while he was in the Suit… but it was just that one time!

Rule #31 — Failing that, make sure all original photographs and evidence of said nookie is destroyed immediately. Saving it in a little box in your bedroom may not be enough.

- Videotapes are also out!

Rule #32 — Wait until Wells gives you two the okay (I know you don’t want to wait, but unless you do, you’ll lose her, and your worst fears will be confirmed.)

- Sigh. Sadly true. So, ask Wells to fix the problem before it’s an issue (as in today, before he leaves.)

Clark lifted his head and looked at Herb. “I’m supposed to wait until you give me the ‘okay’ for something. Do you know what this means?”

H.G. Wells flushed a bright red and cleared his throat. “Um…” He tugged at his collar. “He didn’t explain?”

Clark slowly shook his head. “No. Lois suggested it was something I should have you fix before you leave today. Does this ring any bells?”

The author appeared even more uncomfortable and gulped. “He didn’t tell you about the curse?”

“Curse?” Clark sputtered. “Lois and I are cursed?” He had been searching for this woman for over a year and only now did they mention a curse.

Wells waved his hand through the air trying to make whatever they were talking about seem unimportant. He failed miserably. “Easily fixed.”

“Uh-huh,” replied Clark, not believing him. He returned his eyes to the notebook to see if there were any more surprises awaiting him.

Rule #33 — Make sure she gets to accept you as a friend, but don’t forget to leave hints that you’re more than a little attracted to her.

- Awwww. That is what he did, and I fell head-over-heels. Of course, it helps that he always catches me when I fall.

Rule #34 — Double Fudge Crunch Bars are your friend. Keep a box of them in your drawer for emergencies. (Don’t tell Lois!)

- Is that where he keeps his secret stash? Ha Ha! Now I know!

Rule #35 — Lois does not like odd or strange gifts and/or art, especially sent anonymously.

- So true. Between the Prankster and Scardino, I can live without anonymous gifts. I even destroyed an expensive bouquet of flowers Clark sent me once. Of course, if he hadn’t sent yellow roses…

Rule #36 — Do not make her angry. Stay calm. No sudden movements. I know it will be tempting to fly off — don’t!

- Is that his technique? I always thought he stood his ground because he was invulnerable. Well, not always, at first I thought it was because he was such a good friend.

- True about the flying off. Don’t EVER fly off on me when I’m mad. It just ticks me off.

Rule #37 — Do feed after midnight. Do get wet. (Repeat)

- What am I a gremlin? Just because I happen to like late suppers and midnight snacks.

- Well, the wetness. That’s just a given. Baths: so relaxing, except at the Lexor.

Clark raised a confused eyebrow at Lois’ strange train of thought.

Rule #38 - If sprayed with a love perfume, do not allow yourself to be in close proximity to her for extended periods of time.

- What’s that supposed to mean!?

Rule #38a — Consequences include long nights pacing your living room from ceiling to floor and an eventual breakdown in your desire to keep your friendship intact in favor of making love to her (and possibly losing her in the process.)

- He paced his ceiling? Really? I almost made Superman cave? Who knew the power of a harem costume?

Clark cleared his throat. “Harem costume?”

Wells, whose color had only just returned to normal, flushed bright red again. “Funny story actually…” He waved his hand. “Another time, perhaps.”

Rule #39 — When Lois really is on top (i.e. the boss) at work, don’t let her either push you away or overwork herself. She really does need you now more than ever.

- At first I thought… So true. Behind every strong woman is a Superman.

Rule #40 — Do get her gifts, but make certain that she knows they would only be the kind of gifts you can give (that way there is no mistaking who they came from.)

- Clark once gave me a beautiful Christmas ornament that he told me that Superman had stolen from the heavens. (A star.) There isn’t another like it on Earth. I’ll treasure it always.

Rule #41 — 9 times out of 10 Lois will want to drive. Let her. She knows the basic traffic laws, but this does not mean she will follow them.

- What?! I don’t drive any worse than a Metro Cabbie. Okay, not helping my case here. Moving on…

Rule #42 — Anytime Lois offers to take you out for pasta, accept, and enjoy any said consequences.

- Hee hee. Do!

Rule #43 — Do not let Lois and Ellen or Sam Lane (or both) hang out together alone for longer than 1/2 hour at a time unsupervised.

- Half-hour! He left me alone with my mother on purpose! Grrrrr…

Rule #44 — The only time she’ll ever let you put her on a leash is when she’s pretending to be your concubine. (Don’t ask!)

- Oh, I had forgotten about that. Hee hee. Yeah, don’t ask.

- Addendum 44a — Do ask, but not us. This is another one to talk to Wells about.

- Addendum 44b — I still have the costume and the leash for when Clark has been a particular good boy.

“Leash? Concubine?” Clark asked.

Wells shifted from one foot to another. “Perhaps it’s not wise to know too much about one’s future,” he said elusively.

“Uh-huh,” Clark replied. Obviously he and Herb were going to have a serious discussion later that evening before the man left.

Rule #45 — If Lois starts acting odd, and I mean bizzaro odd — check DNA and make sure she hasn’t been replaced by a clone.

#45a — If she has been replaced by a clone, see Rule #22 for who has probably kidnapped the real Lois.

#45b — If she hasn’t been replaced by a clone, see Rules #46 — #48.

- Sadly true. But Clark was cloned first!

“Clones?” Clark wasn’t even asking Herb anymore. He just shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to know too much about one’s future.

Rule #46 — If Lois starts acting odd, and I mean bizzaro odd — check to make sure she doesn’t have amnesia.

#46a — If she has amnesia, see Rules #22 & #23.

#46b — If she doesn’t have amnesia, see Rules #45, #47, & #48.

- Apparently this has happened more than once.

Rule #47 — If Lois starts acting odd, and I mean bizzaro odd — her mind may be held hostage by Lex Luthor’s son, Lex Jr., follow her and destroy his Neuroscanner machine to free her mind.

#47a — If her mind isn’t being held hostage by the Neuroscanner, please see Rules #45-46, & #48.

- Sadly, also true. Lex Jr. had me tell Clark I wanted a divorce so I could marry him. Ugh. Actually, an imposter he hired to play him. Extra creepy. Something about that Luthor family…

Rule #48 — If Lois starts acting odd, and I mean bizzaro odd — and you two have visited a Virtual Reality experience video game recently, double check that both of you have actually left the game.

#48a — If you aren’t stuck in a VR game, please see Rules #45-47.

- The Luthor family strikes again. If you have a chance to accidentally knock Lex, Sr. off a cliff in the past before he has children, take it!

Rule #49 — From the moment Lois agrees to marry you until the moment you consummate said marriage (see Rule #32)

#49a — Do not let Lois out of your sight;

#49b — Make sure said marriage happens ASAP, so that it does not get postponed by either of your ex’s.

- Let’s see, Clark and I had one marriage interrupted because Lex kidnapped me and replaced me with a clone (right after I met you, by the way). Then after Clark rescued me… one of his ex’s showed up. (See Rule #44).

That other Clark had an ex-girlfriend that put Lois on a leash and made her a concubine? Clark shook his head. Their lives were just plain strange. Now if Clark had said that Lana had put him on a leash and tried to make him into her concubine…

Rule #50 — If you decide to take Lois on a romantic weekend to a private island resort, leave the blue Suit at home.

#50a — Check out the location before hand for criminal masterminds living nearby.

#50b — Take her camping instead.

- I admit, that weekend would have been so much better without the bugs and the psycho bent on literally stealing Clark’s body (don’t ask). The forced camping trip on the deserted island with Clark not allowed to use his superpowers turned out nicer than expected, before the men with guns showed up.

Rule #51 — Do not ever — and I repeat, EVER — expect or attempt to put Lois on a leash. She will almost surely never listen, and the backlash will be fiercely painful.

#51a — The only exception to this rule is if she is acting as your concubine. If you don’t know what this means, then don’t ask.

- This is basically the same Rule as #44, but it’s such a good Rule it bears repeating; so I’ll let it slide. (Maybe we should make THIS Rule #1!)

Rule #52 — Lois enjoys a good costume if the whole Superman-thing isn’t a dead giveaway. Be patient with her no matter what she decides to wear — whether she’s dressed up as a man or in a rather revealing harem costume.

#52a — Lois in disguise usually gets good results, no matter her purpose. Consider yourself duly warned.

- True, I’m a master at disguises. You’d think I studied under Mr. Make-up himself.

- I find costumes (or uniforms, as the case may be) are equally effective when they come off.

Rule #53 — Don’t ever, under any circumstances, use the memory wipe kiss on Lois. You want her with all her memories at all times. (See Rules #22, #23 and #46)

- The WHAT?!

“What is the ‘memory wipe kiss’?” Clark asked Herb.

H.G. Wells eyes opened wide. “That was a mistake. It should never have happened. Just never kiss Lois and think about wishing she could forget something at the same time.” He nodded as if not completely sure how this type of kiss worked.

“Okay.” Clark sighed. How was he ever supposed to kiss Lois after learning about this?

Rule #54 — Never mention Lois’ romance novel to ANYONE!

- True, but let’s go back to Rule #53 for a minute. What’s this about a “Memory Wipe Kiss”? Does this have something to do with the Twice from #28?

Clark chuckled. Obviously that other Clark was going to be in big trouble tonight.

Rule #55 — In addition to the aforementioned chocolate, be sure to stock up on ice cream. Vanilla is definitely to be preferred to rocky road.

- I like plain chocolate as well. For some reason, Rocky Road reminds me of Dan Scardino.

Rule #56 — If Lois gets a haircut, it may or may not have to do with you.

#56a — It may be because her viewpoint on life has just changed, (because she found out she’s in love with a man who moonlights in tights)

#56b — Or it may have to do with the ease of getting ready in the morning.

#56b-1/2 — Or it could be because she has found herself in a Tank story.

- Who’s Tank and why is (s)he writing stories where my hair gets cut?

#56c — Either way, she prefers the little white lie if you don’t like it. If it looks horrible (which it can) and you’re like me and you really don’t want to lie, be as complimentary as possible without telling her you hate it. I prefer to give her the small compliment and then ignore it until she cuts it again into a more complimentary style.

- WHEN did my hair look horrible? Oh, right, while I was jail. Never mind.

- I forgot about that discussion. Always be complimentary. No woman wants honesty if her hair looks bad.

#56d — Don’t forget: it doesn’t matter what her hair looks like, she’s still Lois Lane underneath.

- What he means here is that no matter how my hair looks, I’m always beautiful.

Rule #57 — Always offer her a taste of your chocolate dessert. If she really wants it, she’ll just take it anyway — so you might as well give her a polite out.

- Guilty as charged.

Rule #58 — If Lois is unable to be found, check the three likeliest places:

#1: The Daily Planet

- I love to work.

#2: Her favorite ice cream joint of the week.

- I recommend The Fudge Castle.

#3: Dangling over the jaws of death.

- Unfortunately, the ‘jaws of death’ changes location on a daily — if not hourly — basis. And Superman is never cc’d on the memo.

Rule #59 — To turn off babble mode, apply your lips to hers.

#59a — Repeat as often as necessary.

- Babble?! I don’t babble. I may ramble a little, but not a lot and not often. And there was that time we were discussing socks in a dryer, only we were really talking about how I may have been losing my edge, only I wasn’t because my edge is innate, and I so totally should have been the one who was nominated for the Kerth, not him. Of course, he had worked hard on that Nursing Home series, and I’ve learned that even Clark needs me to throw him a bone every once and while… What was the rule again?

Rule #60 — When Lois says that she doesn’t need or want you around, that’s usually when she needs you the most.

- He’s so sweet. Technically I always need him. I may not require him at every interview or every meeting with every source, but it’s probably always wise if he keeps an ear out for an unexpected call for help, just in case.

Rule #61 — When Lois is being threatened, it is perfectly acceptable to keep watch over her apartment all night long. Chances are she’ll need you close at hand.

- I’ll accept extra surveillance, but only because I’d be dead if he hadn’t done that. Just remember to do so in a manner where she doesn’t think you’re stalking her or think she can’t take care of herself.

Rule #62 — Exposing Lois to your Kryptonian birth-wife will bring out intense feelings of jealousy.

- Well, who likes to find out that your super-human fiancé, whom you’ve been chasing for three years, is already married? I think a bit of jealousy is understandable.

- What if I had said ‘yes’ to Lex? After Dr. Gretchen Kelly had brought him back to life… would that have meant that I would have still been his wife? You think about that one, Clark.

Clark lowered the notebook. “Kryptonian birth wife? I thought Krypton exploded and that everyone except me died?”

H.G. Wells’ eyes opened wide as he pressed his lips together. Eventually he said, “Well, in that dimension — not necessary in your dimension — there were a group of colonists who founded a New Krypton on another planet.”

“What is a Kryptonian ‘birth wife’?” Clark asked.

Clearing his throat, Wells said, “Apparently before Kal-El was sent to Earth to save his life, he was married to Zara.”

“Married?” Clark echoed. “Are you telling me that not only may my love to Lois be cursed, but that I might be married?”

“It’s more of an arranged marriage, nothing official,” Herb reassured him, waving the issue from the air.

“Uh-huh,” Clark grunted, flipping open the notebook again.

Rule #63 — To bring Lois out of her shell and start the process of friendship building, simply take to the Smallville Corn Fest.

- Not that you visit Smallville much after breaking up with Lana… I recommend the caramel apples — out of this world!

- Watch out for people pretending to be the EPA at the Irig farm, they are actually searching for Kryptonite, so they can kill Superman. Actually they are Bureau 39, a rogue government agency.

“A rogue government agency searching for a way to kill me isn’t something you thought I needed to know either?” Clark mumbled under his breath.

“Tea! Yes, tea sounds good. Would you like some tea, Clark? I’d love some tea. You don’t mind if I just pop into the kitchen and make some tea, do you?” Wells said, backing into Clark’s kitchen.

Clark pressed his lips together and harrumphed.

Rule #64 — Do not expect Lois to automatically be happy for you when you are nominated for an award, and she isn’t.

- I’m still waiting for a recount!

Rule #65 — Lois plays every game to win.

- What? I should play to lose? Why would I do that? The point of playing is to win.

Rule #66 — Ethics according to Lois: It is acceptable for her to x-ray your butt to check out your underwear. It is not acceptable for you to x-ray her butt to check out hers.

- And?

Clark’s brow furrowed. When had Lois developed the ability to x-ray?

Rule #67 — If Ultra Woman comes to town, use any means necessary to ensure that Lady Zara is nowhere to be found.

- Oohhh. There’s an interesting thought…

“Who is Ultra Woman?” Clark called to Wells in the kitchen.

“Lois,” Wells replied. “For a while Clark’s powers were transferred to her when he was shot by a red Kryptonite laser.”

“A what what what what?” Clark stammered.

“I’m sorry, Clark, what part of that did you want me to explain?” Herb asked.

“Red Kryptonite? Powers transferred? What?” Clark’s hands began to shake as he ran them through his hair, wondering how that other dimension had survived as long as it had.

“Oh, let’s see. Red Kryptonite effects your ability to control,” Wells explained.

“Control what? My breathing? My bodily functions? My abilities? What?”

“Yes, it could affect your control over your powers. Or it could influence your emotional well being. It seems to affect you differently each new time you are exposed to it.” Herb shrugged. “On the plus side, it doesn’t kill you.”

“Wonderful.” Clark took a deep breath. “When you said transferred? Do you mean borrowed, shared, or given?”

“We aren’t one hundred percent sure on that. We believe in that instance it was ‘given’, but as soon as the laser was fixed Lois happily gave the power back to Clark,” Wells reassured him.

“In that instance?”

“Let’s just say, I wouldn’t touch anyone while in a lightning storm, if I were you.”

Why? Why hadn’t he just turned around and walked out of the Daily Planet when that beautiful brunette walked into his life and kissed him? He could be happily married… Oh, what was he thinking? There was no way he could have ever been happily married to Lana Lang. He sighed. Just because all these crazy things happened to that other Clark and his Lois didn’t mean those things or anything like that would happen to him and his own Lois. He lifted up the notebook again.

Rule #68 — It really is the little things that count. Bringing her a perfectly made cup of coffee will impress her more than flying off to Paris for a plate of cheese, especially once she knows your secret.

- Did that finally sink in? How many years did that take, Clark?

Rule #69 — If she challenges you to not use your powers for an entire weekend, it’s not cheating to use them to save her life.

- He cheated?! Oh, I knew it, I just knew it. I so totally won that bet. What had we bet anyway? Oh, right. Gloating rights. Hee hee. He’s so going down.

Rule #70 — Lois may hate the holidays, but that’s only because she hasn’t yet spent them with you. Only you can change her mind about them.

- That’s true. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Clark.

Rule #71 — Lois’ favorite colors are red, yellow, and blue. Go large on the blue.

- And little on the red, except in the case of capes.

Rule #72 — If you need to stop Lois in rant mode, just kiss her.

- This sounds familiar. Oh, no #59 was “babble”, not “rant”. Wait a minute. Do I rant? I don’t rant. I may get angry and lose my temper every once and while, but I don’t “rant”. Hummph!

- Feel free to kiss her anyway, though. Just in case.

Rule #73 — If Lois needs a new plant for her desk, get her a cactus.

- I didn’t think cacti liked coffee.

Rule #74 — Never ever hide your boss in your closet — she’ll get the wrong idea.

- Really, Clark and Perry? I never thought that. Not even for 5 seconds. Maybe for 3, but not 5 seconds.

Rule #75 — Lois always gets her way. Don’t try to stop her, just go along, and you two will be fine (with a little super help).

- What? We can’t get out of scrapes without ‘super’ help. Thanks. Thanks a lot there, buster. I’m feeling like another challenge coming on.

Rule #76 — If you like Lois with long hair, don’t introduce her to Tank Wilson.

- Who is this Tank Wilson that Clark keeps mentioning? Is he a source of Perry’s?

- (after quick internet search) Oh, my God. Did you know that there’s a man out there who’s got some kind of weird hair fetish with me? I’m glad Clark’s already keeping an eye on him.

- I do have to agree with him that I have a nice neck though.

Rule #77 — Before you have to leave for NK, get Lois and fly her through a thunderstorm; that should keep her safe for a while.

- Thunderstorm? What like Resplendent Man? Uh… No, thank you. I don’t think I’d want to be Ultra Woman without Clark around to be my Superman.

- On the other hand… Then I might be able to do a #67… I withdraw my objections.

“Resplendent Man?” Clark scoffed.

“Yes, that was a poorly chosen name, wasn’t it?” Herb agreed.

Rule #78 — Keep her challenged.

#78a — If you want her to do something she wouldn’t usually do, make it a challenge.

- That doesn’t sound like a “challenge”; that sounds like a trick.

- And that works both ways, Clark.

Rule #79 — Don’t bet against Lois. She wins. Always.

- Yep.

Rule #80 — She does not carry a pistol, but lock picks, a Swiss army knife, maybe a billiard ball or two, a tennis racket, golf clubs, an assortment of board games, and a stolen DA’s beeper in her purse, which is why she travels Superman express. She will never get pass airport security.

- (laughing) Oh, that’s funny. I never thought about it like that. Is that why he told me to check my briefcase when we went to Smallville that first time?

- I only borrowed Mayson’s beeper, and I returned it, and I don’t steal (unless it’s necessary for a story).

Rule #81 — If Lois starts to open up to you about her feelings, STAY AWAKE regardless of how tired you are at the moment. Trust us, it’s worth it.

- Yes, please, don’t fall asleep while your Lois is talking. Big turn-off.

- Us? Clark, honey, you’re starting to talk about yourself in the plural again.

Rule #82 — When both of you start talking at the same time, let Lois go first. (After all, you were raised to be a gentleman.)

- I’m going to have to agree with Clark on this one.

- Clark being a gentleman: big turn-on. What? You think I fell for Clark because of his rock hard abs and flying ability? Please!

Rule #83 — Before you move in together, install a smoke detector in the kitchen.

- I resent the truthfulness of that suggestion.

- Also with my luck and your heat vision, probably best to install them in every room.

Rule #84 — Regardless of #83, Lois does rate 5 stars in the kitchen.

- Thank you. Nice save.

#84a — She also rates 5 stars on the ceiling or any other place you can imagine.

- Oh, is that what he meant? Hee-hee. Naughty, naughty Clark.

Clark cleared his throat and wondered — not for the first time — if Lois had expected her husband to find this version with her notes. He couldn’t believe she had meant him — the Clark who wasn’t her husband — to read some of these comments.

Rule #85 — Lois is in need of a good lock smith, or maybe she should just close her windows.

#85a — Not to bar Superman, but because other men either try to sneak in through or toss her out open windows.

- Good point. I never saw any reason to keep Superman out. Eventually, Clark… Superman / Clark reminded me to lock my windows. I kept my windows locked until he knocked. Let’s just say, I’ve replaced my share of windows due to emergencies when Superman didn’t have time to knock.

Rule #86 — When all else fails, refer to Rule #10 which refers to Rule #2.

- Huh? Which rule… oh, Chocolate. Yes. Important rule!

Rule #87 — When Rule #86 fails, refer to Rule #55.

- Let’s see if #2 covered chocolate, this one must have been… ah, yes, ice cream.

Rule #88 — When Rules #86 and #87 fail, combine those rules and serve Lois a hot fudge sundae.

- Ooooh! Sundaes! YES! Yummy! Don’t forget the whipped cream and bananas… and a cherry on top… Hmmm. Clark knows my weaknesses too well.

Rule #89 — Probably best if you just keep Lois away from all very (millionaire/billionaire) rich men, for example:

- Now that’s just an overgeneralization.

#89a — Lex Luthor tried to break her.

- Well, yes…

#89b — Bill Church endeavored to kill her.

- True, but…

#89c — Spencer Spencer aimed to make her his sex slave.

- Ewww. Also correct.

#89d — Bill Church, Jr. tried to blow her up.

- A-ha! That actually was Mindy Church! Bill Church, Jr. just wanted to shoot me and dump me in the Metropolis Landfill… never mind.

#89e — Patrick Sullivan wanted her for an ancient Druid sacrifice ritual.

- Some old friend he was.

#89f — Tim (and Amber) Lake sought her for their collection.

- But only as part of a pair.

#89g — Randy Goode attempted to ruin her reputation.

- By discrediting Superman.

#89h — Lex Luthor, Jr. tortured her and tried to bend her to his will.

- Okay, now, I’m seeing the pattern, but Clark shouldn’t be sexist. Many rich women, like Barbara Triveno, Mindy Church, and Amber Lake tried to kill me too. I’m not helping my case here, am I?

Rule #90 — If Lois has lost her memory, don’t give up.

- Okay, this is like the third or fourth time Clark has brought up the subject of me losing my memory. As far as I know it only happened that one time! (I still need to discuss with Clark about that Memory Wipe Kiss.) True, it was during the time we were supposed to be on our honeymoon, and I ran off with Lex and then Dr. Deter… Maybe he does have a point to bringing it up all the time. Never mind.

Rule #91 — Before saying “I do”, check Lois for hints of the broken ankle (or any other formerly broken bone/scar) she told you about.

- I fully support and agree with this Rule. How do you think it made me feel when I came back from la-la amnesiaville to find out that the man I love almost made love to someone else! Okay, going off-rant here. Good piece of advice. Maybe we should make this Rule #1.

Rule #92 — Keep Lois away from any kind of blonde. They won’t get along. (Linda King, Lana Lang, Toni Taylor, Toni Baines…)

- Mayson Drake, dog walkers named Tiffani, Penny Barnes, Mindy Church… I could go on, but do I really need to?

- As a personal rule, I don’t trust any woman who is blonde. It just makes my life easier. I only have a few exceptions to this Rule: Alice White and Martha Kent.

- Yes, I do realize that my mother is not included within those exceptions. And?

Rule #93 — Never imply, suggest, or hint that anyone (especially Linda King) is a better reporter than Lois, even if she got scooped. Just accept as fact that there is no one better. Trust me on this.

- Duh!

Rule #94 — Never lie or omit anything from Lois. She’ll find out about it sooner or later, and you’ll be in the doghouse. She’s got more spies, informants, and sources than Alice. Plus, she knows a guy who knows guys who knows guys.

- Clark once asked me if I would mind if we got a dog. I asked if the only reason he wanted one was to explain the doghouse sitting on our back patio. He never brought up the subject again.

- Okay, that’s not a true story, but it gives me a great idea for the punishment from Rule #1. (Makes note to self: buy husband a doghouse.)

Rule #95 — Remind Lois she needs to take a day off every once in a while.

- I take vacations; isn’t that what weekends are?

Ways to distract Lois into taking a day off from Daily Planet:

- This should be good.

#95a — Take off a day from work and Super duties yourself (Take a deep breath. It’s okay; you can do this. The world probably won’t end),

- I’ll believe it when I see it.

#95b — Bet her that you can go longer without using your powers than she can without working,

- I believe I won that bet.

#95c — Marry her, (Lois Lane, not a clone, not some New Kryptonian lady, her — See Rule # 91)

- Okay, I’d take a day off to marry him again. Throw in a two week honeymoon, and you’ve got yourself a deal.

#95d — Take her to Smallville,

- The Smallville Corn Festival is a lot of fun. Mmmm. Caramel apples.

#95e — (Extreme case — use only in a dire emergency) Ask Lois to get rid of some green K for you. Preferably in the Bermuda Triangle (then keep a long-distance eye on her. Who knows what kind of mischief she might get herself into while there?)

- He spied on me while I was on vacation? I can’t believe him. I didn’t spy on him. Well, okay, maybe I did, but it was for his own good! If it wasn’t for me, he might have gotten more seriously involved with Toni Taylor or Mayson Drake or never saved his folks from Mazik.

Rule #96 — Feed her fish. She will often forget about them in the pursuit of a story.

- I feed my fish! Never have I ever killed my fish during the pursuit of a story! That’s what I love about them, they’re self-sufficient pets.

Rule #97 — If said fish meet their timely (or untimely) end, comfort Lois and help her find new ones to torture erm… nurture.

- The only time I can recall losing any fish is when he was exposed to red Kryptonite and his powers went haywire because he could no longer control them, and it had been an accident. I forgave him. It hadn’t been his fault. The only reason I needed comforting was because I was worried about my husband, not about my… my… fish, who had been my friends and company for years, who I could talk to when my life went crazy… and I’m not crying over dead fish!

Clark could see the droplets of salt water that had stained the page and smiled. No matter how tough she claimed she was, the death of her fish had bothered her, but she hadn’t wanted to upset her husband. He sighed. Yes, Lois Lane was too easy to love.

He read again what she had written and gulped. Glancing up at Wells, he tried to calmly inquire, “Can you explain to me again how my powers go ‘haywire’ due to red Kryptonite?”

“It seems every time Clark was exposed to red Kryptonite it affected him differently, his emotions, his control, and then there was that one time he transferred his powers to Lois,” Herb explained. “When he lost control of his abilities, he couldn’t stop when he wanted to, he couldn’t turn off his heat vision, or control his strength. A little dose of green Kryptonite, and he was cured. At least red Kryptonite isn’t fatal.”

He nodded with understanding. It wasn’t fatal for him, that was. Clark returned his eyes to the list.

Rule #98 — Don’t worry about buying her potted flowers for her desk. She has a terrible black thumb when it comes to plants. Buy her cut flowers instead, as they are expected to die anyway (just remember to refill the container with water for her in the meantime.)

- What is this obsession with me killing stuff? Okay, so I’m not a perfect specimen of evolution like some people, but if he thinks that by marrying him it means I have to adhere to his code of conduct and start dancing around on sidewalks, so I don’t harm any ants, he’s got another thing coming to him.

- Rule 98a — Roses are nice. I like red for love.

Rule #99 — Remind her that yes, you are weird. But it works for you.

- I wouldn’t trade his weirdness for anything in the world. He’s right (oh, my God, did I just write that?), it does work for him.

Rule #100 — Even though Lois acts like she never wants children, this is just to disguise the fact that she’s scared of being a failure as a mother, as she assumes Ellen Lane was. (She wasn’t a complete failure, or Lois wouldn’t be the wonderful woman that she is.) Lois wants very much to have children and even broke down in tears when she learned that, biologically, we were incompatible to produce offspring. I’m sorry.

- Rule 100a — Always have hope that two people in as much love as we are can create something from our love.

Clark’s jaw dropped. “We can’t have children?” he stammered. “It’s impossible?”

“You know, I’ve never liked that word,” Wells said with a knowing smile. “No, not impossible.”

“Not…” Clark’s eyes dropped down to the other Clark’s last rule.

Rule #101 — When you’re told that you can’t have children, be there for her. Don’t give up hope, and don’t let her give it up either. Be there for each other. You might just be surprised with what the future holds.

- Rule 101a — Know that even the infallible Dr. Klein can be wrong.

- Don’t tell Clark, but I’m pregnant! I’m telling him at dinner. Shhhhh, it’s a secret.

Clark’s eyes brightened, and the tears that had pooled in his eyes, now streaking down his cheeks, were of joy. “She’s pregnant. It is possible?”

Wells shrugged. “I always said, Lois would make a great mother.”

- Good luck, Clark, and congratulations in finding your soulmate. I hope you two are as happy as Clark and I have been… well, as happy as we are now, I wouldn’t want to wish those early years on anyone.

Clark closed the Handbook and set it down on his desk, crossing his arms. “Now, I believe there are some things we need to discuss in greater detail.”

H.G. Wells blanched at the intensity of Clark’s gaze and cleared his throat. “You know, Clark, it isn’t good to know too much about your future.”

“Uh-huh,” Clark said. “Too late for excuses, Herb. Get talking. Let’s start with this ‘curse’.”

THE END

Author Note: “Rule #63a: Frequent exposure to the elder Kents is good for Lois” was removed from this story as alt-Clark’s parents were dead and canon Clark hopefully would know better than to remind alt-Clark of that fact in his gag-gift. It was still included in the original Handbook as such a handbook would be helpful for Clark should he lose his memories.

Gratitude: I would like to thank everyone who contributed to the Lois Lane 101 — A Handbook. Without you, this story would have not been possible. I would also like to thank Mrs. Luthor for beta-ing this story for me. My apologies and thanks to Tank Wilson for having a sense of humor while I teased him in my story. Thanks also to all of you who caught my context mistakes in the FDK and/or suggested extra lines (especially datasprite12, Michael, and Olive). Thank you all.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story were created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series, developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. These characters do not belong to me; they belong to themselves (although Warner Bros, DC Comics, and the heirs to Siegel and Shuster might disagree). These characters have invaded my psyche and forced me to write the following reenactment of their lives; although if you asked them, they might tell you that the plot is all my own.

A Lois and Clark Fairytale: Lois and the Beast

By Adam Labotka <arlfolc@gmail.com>

Rated G

Submitted June 2012

Summary: A classic fairy tale, retold with characters from Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman.

Authors note:

Many years ago there was a challenge on the message boards to rewrite a fairy tale using Lois and Clark as the main characters. After reading several I decided to do one myself. Beauty and the Beast has long been one of my favored fairy tales. I have read many versions of the tale, a few novel adaptations, and of course the Disney animated film. Throughout this story, you will see influences from these sources. And of course there is major influence from the television series Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. After so many years I have finally finished it, for my lovely wife who has periodically bugged me these many years I have let it sit unfinished. Those who knew us may remember we actually met through FOLCdom. So for Mother’s Day this year I worked on finishing it to provide her for putting up with me and giving me a wonderful daughter and another child on the way.

And now the story.

***

Once upon a time there was a kind prince who was well loved by his people. Under his leadership, the kingdom had prospered and everyone was happy. Well, almost everyone. There was a wicked sorcerer who hated the prince. ‘The peace the prince brought was so boring,’ thought the sorcerer, ‘he’d blow his brains out, only guns hadn’t been invented yet;’ there wasn’t anything for him to do. He looked into the future in disgust and decided he needed to do something to prevent Utopia, as that future land was called, from ever becoming a reality. So Tempus, as the sorcerer was called, stewed in his tower trying to come up with the perfect plan to stop the prince and his Utopia.

While Tempus plotted, Prince Clark continued to help his people as much as he could. When his parents died, the young prince began running the kingdom. He was not technically of age to be king. However, the council had decided that he, personally, was mature enough to rule without a regent. Throughout the land, people said he was as wise as King Solomon, because his judgments were always fair and correct. Little did they know that he was able to hear their heartbeats and could tell when someone was lying and therefore knew who was right and who was wrong. Through his special abilities, he had managed to bring peace to the kingdom. The people knew they could not get away with dishonesty under his rule. Clark was sure his parents would be proud of the way he was running their kingdom. Little could he imagine what Tempus had in store for him.

In fact, Tempus did not even know what he had in store for the prince yet, but it was going to be nasty. Tempus did not just want to get rid of him, he wanted to torture the Prince for a long time, really get to him. Tempus had hoped that after killing the king and queen he would have been able to usurp power and remake the kingdom in his own image, by becoming regent. Then that meddling prince had taken over and was ruining everything. He was definitely going to suffer.

Suddenly it came to Tempus: the perfect revenge. ‘The prince is very handsome and sought after by many beautiful women. However, the sappy fool believes in the fairy tale kind of love. ‘Doesn’t he realize that stuff never happens in real life?’ Tempus thought, scoffing. So Tempus would make sure that the prince never had the opportunity to find it. He would turn him into a hideous beast, as ugly as he was handsome now. His appearance would frighten his people and they would turn away from him. Even better, Tempus thought, smiling evilly, any woman would run screaming at the sight of him. Tempus knew that no woman could love such a revolting creature. So, to top everything, Tempus would make it so the spell could only be broken if a woman fell in love with the prince in his grotesque form. That, Tempus thought smugly, would ensure that the prince would always know what he was missing, constantly reminding him of what he had to live without. Satisfied, he began to cast the spell.

Shortly after Tempus began, Clark began to notice even more abnormal changes in himself. His teeth were becoming longer and more pointed much like fangs. Hair was beginning to grow in thick clumps all over his body. He was really scared, fearing his differences were causing these changes. What kind of monster was he becoming? Fearing what he might do once the transformation he seemed to be undertaking was complete, Clark demanded that everyone in the castle leave, for their own safety. He dismissed all his servants, but none of them would go willingly. They all wanted to stay and help their prince. Eventually though, Clark managed to get everyone to leave the castle and hid himself within, fearing what he would become.

Finally, Tempus finished casting his curse on the prince. It had taken several weeks and most of his strength, but he had done it. Exhausted, he decided he needed to take a few days off and regain his strength before going to taunt the Prince with what he had done. Who knew what frenzy the Prince would have worked himself into over the change, or how the townspeople would react? It would be very interesting to watch, Tempus mused. It was a very satisfied Tempus who went to bed that day.

When the villagers learned of the Beast in the castle, they feared for their beloved prince. It was widely assumed that the Beast had come and devoured him. They thought somehow he must have known the Beast would come and that was why he sent everyone away, in order to protect them. Once that conclusion was reached, the people only loved him more. Since beasts did not usually work of their own accord, the villagers looked for who would have sent the Beast. There was only one man in the land known to be unhappy with the prince, and that was Tempus.

While Tempus slept, the people fumed, sure that he was behind the death of their Prince. An angry mob, carrying the requisite pitchforks and torches, gathered around his tower. Tempers flared in tandem with the torches, reaching temperatures to rival those of the flames. Only one thought resounded through the minds of everyone gathered: revenge. As one, they threw their torches at the base of the tower, igniting it.

Tempus woke up sweating, thinking it was awfully hot for the season. Looking around, he quickly noticed why it was so hot; his room was on fire. Quickly, Tempus tried to come up with a way to save himself, but the only spells he could think of took hours of preparation, which he obviously did not have. His tower was far too tall for him to jump safely. Trapped, Tempus resigned himself to his fate, thinking that at least he had cursed the Prince and Utopia would never be. Comforted by that last thought, he was consumed in flames.

Clark remained hidden in his palace, not wanting anyone to see what he had become. As he grew, he continued to develop abnormal abilities. His gifts seemed almost magical, yet somehow they felt normal to him. Clark was unable to just sit by and listen when he heard people in trouble, yet he did not want to scare anyone with his grotesque appearance. So, he took to disguising himself in a black robe and hood, keeping his face completely covered and relying on his special vision which allowed him to see through the cowl as if it was not even there, when he went to help. He never stayed around longer than necessary, fearing people would discover his true form and be frightened of him. People began talking about the guardian angel that swooped in and helped people in need. It embarrassed Clark, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could not stop helping people, it was just part of who he was and he had to help.

Since the Prince was presumed dead, the council took it upon themselves to rule the kingdom. They were reluctant to name a new regent or king, so it was decided they would rule jointly, at least for the time being. And so life settled into a new routine for the kingdom as the years passed.

***

6 years later

Lois hurried through town, filled with excitement. Perry had promised that her new book would be coming in today. Every time she saw one of her books in print, she felt a deep satisfaction, like she was proving to the world a woman could write. If only she was able to publish them under her own name.

It had all been Perry’s idea, really. For as long as Lois could remember, she had loved reading and writing. She could remember just hanging out in the town bookstore, reading the books they had there and imagining herself in those far-off places. Perry, the owner of the bookstore, had befriended her early on, suggesting books and making a cozy place where she could come and sit and read. He even let her borrow some of the books to take home. But it had not been enough for her to just read the books. When she was fourteen she had started to write her own stories.

Lois still remembered the day she had finally shown her first story to Perry. She had just finished it and was feeling really proud of herself. Her dad, of course, had encouraged her to do what she wanted, and had been very supportive of her, buying her paper and ink. It had been no surprise that when she had shown him her novel, he smiled at her and said, “Princess, this is the best story I’ve ever read.”

Of course her daddy had said that, he was always saying stuff like that to her. She couldn’t trust her daddy’s opinion, so she needed to show it to someone else. Her first thought had been to show Perry. He’d tell her the truth. So, clutching her manuscript, she had run to the bookstore anxious to see what Perry would say. He had loved it too, and beamed at her. It had made Lois feel so proud of herself, but sad at the same time. She had told Perry, “It’s a shame I could never get this published.”

Perry had gotten this thoughtful look in his eyes. “Now darling,” Perry said, “Don’t be so hasty. I have this friend in the publishing business. He’d never publish a woman’s writing, but if I sent him this and told him it was from a friend…” Perry paused. “I know — my friend Lewis Lane. It’s similar to your name but sounds male. What do you think, honey?”

Lois had not really known how to respond, but had found herself agreeing anyway. And so Lewis Lane’s first novel had been published and was a great success. Every year Lois had written another one, and every year Perry had sent them to his friend for publishing. And now here it was, six years later and her sixth book should be coming in. Lois couldn’t wait to see it.

There was something about holding a published copy in her hands that made it seem all the more real. Breathless with anticipation, she arrived at Perry’s store. Bursting into the store, Lois exclaimed, “Is it here yet?”

Perry chuckled as he watched her burst into the store. ‘That’s just like Lois,’ he thought. With mock gruffness he said, “Why, hello to you, too.”

Lois stopped abruptly, “Oh,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Perry. It’s just I’m so excited and I forgot…”

Perry held back a chuckle as he cut Lois off before she could begin babbling, “It’s OK darling, I was just funnin’ with you.”

“Well?” Lois demanded impatiently.

“Well what, honey?” Perry said, feigning ignorance. He could not resist riling her up a bit. As he waited for the explosion, he thought back to the first day he had met Lois Lane. She had just been this shy little girl, barely eight, who had been staring longingly in the window of his shop. When he had told her to come in she had hesitated, but finally she had entered the shop. After a few minutes of cajoling, he had learned that she loved to read but could not afford to buy any books.

Perry had taken an instant liking to this little girl, and told her to go ahead and pick out a book; she could sit in the chair in the corner near the fire and read it there. That way, she did not have to worry about paying for it. After a moment’s hesitation, she had picked out a book and began reading. After that day, she had been a frequent visitor to his shop. Perry had come to view her as the daughter he never had.

Perry was suddenly jolted out of his musings by the explosion he’d been anticipating. “Perry,” Lois barked, “You know very well what I’m here for!” Boy had she come a long way from that shy girl over a decade ago.

“Oh,” Perry said, as if it was suddenly dawning on him. “You wanted to know if I’d gotten the shipment of new books yet. Well, let me think. Hmmmm…”

Lois waited impatiently. Perry was surprised that she was not actually tapping her foot on the ground. She normally was not so restrained, he thought, smiling inwardly. “Did you or did you not get the shipment of new books today?” she demanded.

“I think I remember it coming in today,” Perry said slowly. He was enjoying baiting Lois so much that he did not want it to end quite yet. Besides, it would not do for her to think he was a pushover. He watched her steam a bit more, and then he finally relented. “Yes I did, honey. Here you go the latest from Lewis Lane. I know how much you love his books,” Perry said with a twinkle in his eye.

Perry watched her face light up as she looked at the book. It was worth all the effort he had put into getting them published, just to see that look on her face when she saw them in print. He remembered the day she had shown him her first story. She had obviously been bursting with something when she had entered the shop, and he had wondered what she had on her mind.

She had been nervous at first, but eventually she had shown him the story she had written. To say he had been astounded would be an understatement. It was one of the best stories he had ever seen. He could hardly believe that a fourteen-year-old girl had written it. The sadness she had revealed when she commented about not being able to get it published had nearly broken Perry’s heart. It would be a shame to let such a story be overlooked simply because a girl had written it.

So, he had made up some story about having a publisher friend and convinced Lois to let him try and get it published under a male pen name. Then Perry had set about rewriting it in his own hand, so that it would look like he had written it, and then he had set out trying to find a publisher for it, passing himself off as Lewis Lane. It had taken him a while but he did find someone willing to look at the manuscript of the heretofore unknown Lewis Lane.

Perry had never let on how much effort had gone into getting it published, preferring to let her think it was just a simple favor from a friend. He knew she would be upset if she knew all the trouble he had gone to, but it was worth it to him. As much as he enjoyed this moment though, it could not last.

“Hadn’t you better get home before your father has to leave for the fair?” Perry asked. “I know he’d love to see the latest ‘Lewis Lane’ before he had to go. Besides, he could probably use some help with last minute tweaks on that invention of his.”

“You’re right Perry,” Lois said. “How much for the book?”

Perry almost laughed, they went through this every time. She always insisted on paying, but he would have none of that. They were her books, after all. “Now honey, you know better than that. How many times do I have to tell you they’re your books, and I won’t take a cent for them? You better go, now,” Perry replied, perhaps a bit more gruffly than he intended.

Lois relented, realizing that, yet again, Perry was not going to accept money from her. She felt bad that he went through all this for her and did not receive anything for it in return. He had always been so kind to her and she just wanted to repay him for all the kindness he had shown her. “Okay, Perry,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “Thanks for everything.”

Lois hurried across town, heading home, anxious to show her father her latest book. He had been skeptical at first, but every time she brought home a new book she could see the pride in his eyes. She loved her father very much. Before Perry, he was the only one she could really be herself around and not worry about being treated like an outcast just because she did not conform to society’s ideals for a young girl.

Lois arrived at home, but, just as she was about to enter, a voice stalled her. “Hello Beauty,” a deep, masculine voice said behind her.

Inwardly, Lois sighed. ‘Anyone but him,’ Lois thought. She hated the nickname Beauty. Sure it was nice to know everyone thought she was beautiful, but it also showed that that was all people thought of when they looked at her. They did not care what was beneath the surface. He was the worst of the lot too. Giving into the inevitable, she turned to face him, a false smile plastered on her face. She could not afford to annoy him.

“Why, hello Lex,” she said, false enthusiasm filling her voice. It sounded so hollow in her ears that Lois wondered how Lex could possibly miss it. Or maybe he just chose to ignore it. ‘Probably can’t imagine anyone not liking him,’ Lois thought with an inward sniff. Sure he was big and handsome, she thought objectively, but he was also arrogant, self-centered, and in general just a blight on society. She didn’t know what people saw in him.

He practically ran the town, too. Everyone was either too busy kissing up to him or terrified of him. If it were not for the fact that anyone who went against him or his gang of ruffians always ran into mysterious trouble, Lois would give him a piece of her mind. But she could not bear to let anything happen to her father or Perry. She cared for them too much.

While Lois was seething inside, Lex returned her smile and strode toward her, right over her prize rose bushes, trampling them. ‘How dare he!’ Lois fumed, almost losing control of her temper. She loved those roses and spent hours taking care of them. They were the only thing she had left to remember her mother. Her father did not normally like to tell stories about her mother. Lois was not really sure why but he always got very sad when Lois brought her up, but he did tell her how her mother had loved roses. He told her that her mother had planted these roses when she was carrying Lois, wanting to liven up the house for the child that was coming. Then he told her that her mother used to take her out with her while she tended the garden. Lois could vaguely remember being in the garden with her mother, enjoying the roses. Every time she tended the roses she felt as if she was keeping a part of her mother alive. ‘And now that arrogant, selfish, bast…’ she could not even think the word. Nice girls like her were not supposed to know such language.

Lex continued striding toward her, apparently oblivious to what was going on. If he had any clue what he had just done, he gave absolutely no sign. He still wore that same wide smile, one that did not quite reach his eyes, when he finally stopped walking and began to speak. “Beauty, I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said.

‘Yeah, too bad you found me,’ Lois thought. “Well now you’ve found me,” Lois said, hoping her contempt was not showing up in her voice. “What was it you wanted, Lex?”

With what he probably thought was a charming smile, he asked, “I was wondering if you’d do me the great honor of having dinner with me tonight.”

Well, he did not so much ask as demand, even though it was phrased like a question. Lois scrambled, trying to think up some excuse not to have dinner with him. She didn’t think she could stomach his company long enough. Or hold down her food. Finally, Lois managed to blurt out, “Oh Lex, I’m sooo sorry but I have to wash my hair tonight. I really wish I could. Maybe another night.” Hoping that would appease him for now and frantically wondering how she would avoid another night.

A dark look fluttered across Lex’s face, but was gone almost before Lois could see it. “Very well Beauty, another time it is. I do hope that certain things aren’t distracting you.” He glanced at the book she was carrying, “Really Beauty, don’t you think it’s wrong for you to be reading books? After all, a woman’s place does not involve reading.”

Lois nearly sighed with relief when he turned and left after that. The thinly veiled threats and the criticism of her reading had been almost more than she could handle. He made her so mad. She had to get out of there, just get away and think. She could not bear being near her poor roses any longer. She just ran away from the house, letting her book fall on the doorstep.

She ran as fast as she could, trying to get as far from Lex and her trampled roses as she could. How far she had come from that happy, excited mood this morning when she went to get a copy of her new book. Why did Lex have to ruin everything?

As Lois ran, she was not paying any attention to what was going on around her. She did not even realize that she was coming up to the cliff not far from her house. Suddenly she was at the brink, and she could not stop herself. She plummeted over the edge.

As she fell, Lois screamed.

***

Clark was out flying, enjoying the rush of wind as he raced through the air. He had only been flying for the past four years, but he had grown to love it. It almost made up for his hideous form. The loneliness of his isolation was not so bad when he was flying. He felt so free and alive that he wished he could spend all his time up here, but he felt an obligation to his people and tried to do the best he could to protect and guide them while remaining hidden.

At first he had thought it was his being different that caused his transformation. His parents had told him how he fell from the sky in answer to their prayers for a child. As he had grown, he had noticed things about himself that were not normal, well except maybe to practiced wizards, but then he was not a practiced wizard. So when he had begun changing into some sort of monster, it had been perfectly reasonable to assume it was from the same source as his other differences. It had not been until about two years ago when he had rescued this strange woman that he had known it was a curse and not inherent in his being.

He remembered that day clearly, as if it were yesterday…

He was flying around as normal, when suddenly he saw a woman falling from a nearby cliff. He caught her, but before he could return her to solid ground she looked at him very closely, kind of like she was looking through him, and it scared him. Few people looked at him like that when he was in disguise.

She began to speak, in a sure and confident voice, nothing like one would expect from someone who had just been plummeting to her sure death. “Hello, Clark. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

He nearly dropped her when she used his real name. How could she know? Everyone thought that Clark was dead, and no one knew that the Beast and the Angel were the same. Clark just stared at her as she continued.

“I know all about you, Clark. I know how you think that this transformation is due to the differences in you that give you the powers that make you the Angel. But I want to tell you it’s not, Clark,” she explained.

“An evil wizard named Tempus put a curse on you, causing you to take on this form. He wanted you out of the picture so he could take over and reform the kingdom in his own image. But his plan backfired and he was blamed for your death. His curse lingers on though. But as with every curse there is a counter,” she paused.

When she paused, Clark was tempted to shake her and demand she finish, but before his patience wore out she started again. “To break the curse, you must find your one true love. When she confesses her love for you of her own free will, the curse shall be broken and you will return to your natural form.”

After that she was silent, and since Clark did not know what to say he set her down and flew away. Clark did not know whether or not he should believe her, but she seemed to know so much about him he could not help but believe. After all, she had known his name. He was under the distinct impression she had gotten into trouble just to get him to rescue her so she could tell him about the curse as well. He did not know how he felt. He had been elated to know that it was not part of what he was, but at the same time he was depressed. For who could learn to love a beast?

After the encounter, Clark had wondered who the woman was and why she had gone to so much trouble to tell him about the curse. At the time, he had been too stunned by what she was telling him to think straight, but now that he had time to think about it all these questions he wished he had asked her were popping into his mind. So in order to satisfy his curiosity, Clark had set out trying to learn about her. He eventually learned that she was a local fortuneteller named Star, who made a living telling people’s futures. Well that helped explain how she knew, but he still had not figured out why she had done it. That answer had come later, when he recognized a family he had saved from a burning house visiting her. It turned out he had saved her sister and her family. She must have felt she was repaying him a debt. Now that he knew, he felt much better.

Eventually though he had come to terms with it. He no longer had the fear that a rampage would overtake him and he would hurt people without intending to. The realization that he was not going to change even further, or lose his capability for rational thought was a great relief, but in the end nothing really changed. It could not as long as he remained a beast.

His people avoided the castle. They were afraid of the dangerous Beast that lurked there, the one they blamed for killing their prince. Clark was glad the people had cared so much about him, but their hatred for his new form prevented him from revealing the truth. He doubted he could convince them, and while he was pretty sure they could not physically harm him, he did not think his heart would survive anything they did try to do to him. So he just let things stay the way they were. Every once in a while some cretin got it in his head to try and sneak into the castle and steal some of the priceless treasure they were sure the Beast kept hidden there. Clark was sick of people invading his home and trying to take what little he had left of his parents.

It had been almost seven years since his parents had mysteriously died in their bedchambers. No one had been able to figure out how they died. They had been perfectly healthy and then the next day they were found dead in their bed. It had caused quite an uproar, but when even the best physicians had been unable to come up with a solution, the furor had died down. And so the kingdom had mourned their deaths.

He remembered that at the time, one of his parents’ former advisers, a shady man named Tempus had tried to become regent. But since Clark had never trusted him, he managed to convince the council that he could rule without a regent, even though his coming of age birthday would be some time later. He had not really thought anything at the time, but after his transformation, and learning the true cause of it, he realized that this Tempus had probably also killed his parents. Clark felt a bit of guilt that he enjoyed the fact Tempus was now dead, at least he would not have to worry about Tempus interfering in his life again.

Suddenly Clark’s thoughts were pierced by a loud scream. Pushing his thoughts to the side, Clark raced towards the sound of the scream. He saw someone plummeting off a cliff. ‘Oh no, not again,’ he groaned inwardly as he swooped down and caught her. ‘Why do I always seem to have to rescue women falling off cliffs?’ Clark wondered. It seemed to be becoming a habit. Women were always falling for him, just not the right one. Quickly he returned her to the safety of solid ground, but before he could dart off again as he normally would, he saw her face.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was in a windswept disarray that made her look all the more alluring. Her eyes were pools of deep brown Clark could see himself drowning in if he looked into them long enough. Her lovely mouth was still parted in surprise at her sudden rescue, and Clark had to resist the urge to kiss her. That certainly would not go over well, he knew. Besides, with his fangs he doubted he could kiss her safely.

Suddenly, her voice snapped him out of his reverie, “You’re the Angel they talk about, aren’t you?” she asked, breathlessly.

Clark was tempted to laugh. Him an angel? More like she was the angel that had fallen into his arms. Unable to ignore her question completely, as he normally did on rescues, he gave a barely perceptible nod and flew off.

As he flew away, he recalled how he had thought jokingly about women falling into his arms, but never the right one. Well, cruel fate had finally sent the right one. He knew it was crazy, but ever since he had gotten a good look at her, he just knew she was the one. He had already fallen for her at just a glance. He did not even know anything about her. She was probably married already; beautiful women like that did not stay single long. She could also be a horrible person, or a complete dunce. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous to believe he was in love with her. Somehow, though, he could not quite convince himself of that.

As he flew home, Clark did not know whether it was better to have met her and know what he was missing, or to have never seen her. He entered the castle and removed his cowl, looking in the one mirror left in the entire castle. The first thing he noticed was his long, cruel looking fangs, designed for ripping and rending flesh. His brow was low and heavy, covered completely with fur, as was the rest of his body, making him look stupid as well as ugly. His eyes were almost completely hidden beneath bushy eyelashes, creating an almost sinister look. In anger and frustration he lashed out, shattering the mirror. He could never let anyone see him like this, let alone the angel he had just rescued. He could not take seeing the fear and horror in her eyes. It would break his heart.

***

Lois was still reeling from her brush with death when the Angel flew away. One minute she had been running away from Lex, trying to let go of her anger without making him angry, then the next she had been plummeting to her certain death. By some miracle though she had been saved. She had always been somewhat skeptical of the Angel people reported saving them, but now that she had seen him with her own eyes she believed.

He had been clad all in black, and his face was covered so she could not see it, but instinctively she just knew he had to be male. Something about the way he felt and moved told her that. Somehow, she had managed to ask him who he was, and she could have sworn he nodded in response. In all the sightings she had heard about, he never gave the slightest hint of a response to anyone. ‘So why had he responded to her? Why did he fly around helping people? What was he like under that disguise?’ Having now met the angel, Lois was filled with questions about him. ‘Why couldn’t he stay to talk to her? Was he afraid of something or just unable to converse?’ She wished she could see him again to ask, but short of falling off another cliff, which she did not want to try again, she had no idea how to contact him.

Frustrated, Lois began the long walk home. She had not realized how far she had run earlier; she had been so intent on just getting away from Lex and her trampled roses. Now she had to get back to see her father off before he had to leave for the fair. She only hoped her detour had not made her too late. She was also bursting to tell him about the Angel, though she was afraid he would yell at her for getting in trouble in the first place.

The sun was beginning to set and Lois shivered, not wanting to be out alone at night. Hoping she could make it home before it got too dark, Lois picked up her pace. Her dad would have left by now, he would have needed to leave at least an hour ago unless he wanted to ride all night to make the fair. She hated when he did stuff like that, hated the thought of him being out late at night. He often stayed late tinkering with his inventions, trying to get them just right before leaving, but this year he had promised not to do that. Who knew what might happen on some dark road?

She managed to make it home just before full dark set in, and was very relieved. Not that she was scared of the dark, she quickly reminded herself, she would just rather not be out in it. She was surprised to see a light on in the cabin; her dad must have left it on for her. She entered the house to see him sitting there waiting. “Daddy!” she protested. “You promised you’d leave before dark so you wouldn’t have to ride all night. You know I hate the thought of you riding alone in the dark all night.”

Sam sighed, he had known Lois would be upset when he did not leave like he promised, but he had seen the altercation with Lex outside and knew she would be upset. He had to stay and make sure she was okay, and was even considering canceling the trip to stay with her. Knowing Lois, she would not accept it but he was concerned about her. “Princess…” he began uncertainly. “I saw what happened outside… I had to make sure you were okay. I know how Lex upsets you. I couldn’t just leave you alone. Are you sure I shouldn’t stay?”

Sam waited for the expected outburst. He knew Lois would not like the suggestion, but he had to ask anyway. Sure enough, Lois responded, “I’m fine, Daddy. I know how important the annual fair is to you, and I don’t want you to miss it on my account.”

“Lois, I saw you run away, and you were gone a long time. I know this affected you more than you’re letting on. What happened?” Sam asked.

Lois sighed, she wanted to tell him, really she did, but she didn’t know how to start. Also, she was afraid of worrying him further. Slowly, she began to explain, “Well, you know how Lex and his attitude towards women always infuriates me, so I was already upset when he started talking to me. Then when he trampled over mom’s roses, it was all I could do not to lash out at him then and there. When he left, I just needed some release so I just started running. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going…” Lois trailed off, trying to judge her dad’s mood before continuing.

Sam did not like where this was going. Obviously something had happened to Lois, and she was afraid to tell him. If someone had hurt his little girl why he would… well he did not know what he would do, but it would not be pleasant. Trying not to let too much concern show on his face, he waited for Lois to continue her story.

“I didn’t notice the cliff I was headed for and I ran right off the edge,” Lois continued.

‘What?!,’ Sam thought. His little girl had fallen off a cliff? What had happened? How had she survived? He was glad she had, but it just did not seem possible.

“But then the most amazing thing happened. The Angel that people talk about came swooping down out of the sky and caught me. At first I was so shocked I didn’t even realize what was going on, but when he set me back on the ground I was able to gather my thoughts. He didn’t fly off immediately like everyone else says he does, and when I asked a question he answered me, I think. It looked like he nodded at least. It was amazing.” Lois still could not really believe what happened, but it was the most amazing experience of her life. She would definitely have to try and work it into her next novel.

Sam tried to digest what Lois had just told him. She had almost died! He did not know who or what this angel was, but he sent it a silent thanks. He did not think he could go on living if he lost Lois too… but he did not want to think about that right now. Besides, Lois was safe now and that was what was important. And it was just like her to be so unfazed by nearly dying. “I’m glad you’re OK Lois, but really you should have been more careful. You and I both know you didn’t even really believe this angel character existed before this, what would have happened if he hadn’t existed or hadn’t been nearby? You can’t count on it happening again.”

“I know, Daddy. I’m really sorry. I was just so mad I wasn’t thinking straight. I promise I’ll be more careful in the future.” Lois said apologetically. She was surprised he was taking this as well as he was, she had expected a big blow up at least. He had to be upset, but for some reason he wasn’t letting it show. She almost wished he would get angry and go into one of his lectures, at least then she would know what he was thinking.

“Good, now I think it’s time you got to bed. You were through quite an ordeal today,” Sam said. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

Lois shook her head. He was still insisting on staying? She would have to change his mind on that quickly; she did not want to be babied. She was twenty years old and capable of taking care of herself, even if it sometimes seemed the whole world refused to accept it. “No, you have to leave now to make it to the fair. You’ve worked very hard on your invention this year, and I’m sure it will be well received. I will not be responsible for you missing out. Go, now!” Lois exploded at her father. Then, in a small, concerned voice. “And be careful.”

Sam still was not quite convinced, but before he had a chance to respond, Lois said “I’ll be fine, really I will.”

Sam sighed, he had not realized his reluctance was so obvious. “Okay, princess,” Sam conceded, knowing his daughter would not budge. “I’ll leave now, and I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll be back in a few days. You take care of yourself while I’m gone. If you need anything, I’m sure Perry will help.”

“Goodbye, Daddy,” Lois said. “Good luck.”

“Goodbye, Princess,” Sam said, leaving the house. Then, quietly, mostly to himself, continued, “Be safe.”

***

Sam navigated his way carefully through the woods, heading towards the fairgrounds. It was very dark and he was having trouble seeing the trail, there was not even a moon out to help light his way. The meager light from the lamp attached to the wagon he had rented only radiated a few feet, barely illuminating enough of the trail to manage to stay on path. He shivered; there was something very ominous about tonight. How Sam wished there was some moonlight by which to see.

Several hours later, it became apparent to Sam that he was lost. None of the surrounding country was familiar, and he should have been nearing the fairgrounds, but there were none of the typical noises one would associate with the inventor’s fair. Suddenly lightning flashed overhead, illuminating a castle ahead of him. The sky opened, and a deluge came down, instantly soaking Sam. Not wanting to be caught out in the storm any longer than necessary, he headed for the castle and the shelter it promised.

The gates to the castle grounds were in disrepair and parted when Sam pushed on them. They groaned and creaked, protesting the effort to move them, but the struggle was no contest. Sam went inside and entered the castle looking for shelter. The interior was dark and foreboding, but at least it was dry, Sam thought. Lightning continued to flash, giving him glimpses of the inside of the castle. It was in surprisingly good repair for one that was apparently abandoned. There was no dust, no signs of age one would expect in a derelict building. But Sam was too tired and cold to do more than briefly wonder at it. He was soon asleep on the hall in the entryway.

***

Sam woke the next morning to the sounds of birds chirping and the sun streaming into the castle. In the light of day, he could see that the castle looked well cared for on the inside, despite the outward appearance of being abandoned. Surmising that someone lived here in secret, Sam was suddenly eager to leave the castle, fearful what the occupant, or occupants, might do if they found him invading their space.

Outside the sun was shining brightly, the air was crisp and clean with that after the rain smell. Everything looked so much brighter and cheerier in the day, no longer ominous like last night. Looking around, Sam noticed rose bushes lining the path to the castle. They were the strangest roses he had ever seen, they were a pale lavender color unlike any others he had seen. They were also among the most beautiful roses he had ever seen.

He smiled sadly, remembering Ellen’s love of roses. Before Lois was born, she had wanted to plant rose bushes to brighten up their cottage for their child. Sam had let her work the garden while he tinkered with his inventions. Occasionally he would come out and help, but more often than not he got caught up in his work and the day would pass before he realized it. Slowly though, she had managed to get the rose bushes to grow and bloom in the once barren land in front of the cottage. She had been so proud, Sam remembered.

Not long after that Lois had come into their life. Sam had been disappointed because he wanted a son to carry on his legacy, but he had tried not to let Ellen see it. He began to spend even more time on his inventions, leaving Lois and Ellen together to keep each other company. Now, he wondered, if he had not been avoiding spending time with them because of his disappointment in having had a daughter instead of a son. So went the first few years of Lois’ life. He regretted missing them now, especially after what happened to Ellen.

Just before Lois turned three, Ellen had begged Sam to go and purchase some more seeds for the garden. She had wanted to expand it as a birthday present for Lois. Lois was already becoming a frequent visitor to the garden, spending time there with her mother. But Sam had delayed, not wanting to leave his inventions to go. Eventually Ellen had gotten fed up and gone to town without him.

Sam nearly broke down and cried as he remembered that day. He had not even realized she had gone at first, barely acknowledging her when she said she was leaving and asked him to watch Lois. It was not until dusk Sam had even known anything had happened. Then his world had crumbled.

There had been a knock on the door, and on the other side was the town magistrate. From the look on his face, Sam could tell something had disturbed the normally stone-faced man. “Sam…” the magistrate began, unsteadily.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, concerned. The man was obviously having trouble with something.

“I don’t quite know how to say this,” he continued. “We found your wife outside town about an hour ago. She was… it was awful. We found her beaten, barely recognizable. It must have happened some time ago. There was nothing we could do; she was dead when we found her. We don’t know what happened, but apparently she had been waylaid and robbed. I’m sorry.”

Sam was stunned. Ellen was dead?!? Someone had beaten her to death over what, the piddling amount of money she had taken to buy seeds? He should never have let her go. He should have gone himself like he had promised. How was he going to survive without her? He had not even been able to respond.

The next several days were a blur, he was suddenly stuck a single father with very little idea how to care for a child. He had missed Ellen horribly; he still did. He cursed the time he had wasted with his inventions instead of spending time with her. Silently, he promised he would try to make it up by being the best father he could be. So he had cut down on his inventing, spending more time with Lois. He had encouraged her to do what she wanted to, denying her very little.

As she had grown, Sam had come to realize that she was not a disappointment. She was everything he could want in a child, even if she was not male. He had taught her to read and write when she had expressed an interest in doing so. He was proud of the young woman she had become.

Lois had come to love the roses as her only connection with her departed mother. Once she was old enough, she had taken over tending for the roses, which Sam had been doing up until then in memory of his wife. She lovingly tended them every day, rain or shine.

That thought suddenly brought Sam back to the events of the other day. He had been waiting at home for Lois to return, when he had heard voices outside. Through the window he had seen Lois and Lex talking. He did not like that Lex fellow, he was just too slimy, and he kept bothering Lois. That really upset Sam especially since Lois was not interested. But Lex was not one to take no for an answer, and he had set his sights on Lois. He watched in horror as Lex had trampled over Lois’ prized roses, sure that he had done it on purpose because they were something that she cared for, and Lex could not abide that.

It had taken all of Sam’s restraint not to rush out there and do something to Lex, but he had known that would only bring trouble. He had watched Lois valiantly hold her composure until Lex left, then run off. He did not blame her; his own fists were still clenched in rage. Sam had decided to stay until Lois returned home, even though he should be leaving soon, in case she needed his support. He had known she would have been upset at him for staying, but he had needed to be sure she was all right before leaving. Things had gone much as he expected when she returned. He had been glad to see the spark back in her, and had felt much better about leaving. Of course, he had ended up lost in the dark, which would upset Lois even more; he had best get home soon before she began to worry.

Coming back to the present, Sam decided to bring one of the roses back for Lois. Hopefully, it would make her feel better about losing her roses. Sam reached out to pluck one of the roses, and suddenly the sun was blotted out behind him and he heard a fierce growl. Fearfully, Sam turned around, thinking the master of this place had found him. Behind him, Sam saw a large, dark form towering over him, mere inches from him. The form blocked out the sun, and Sam was unable to make any features of the form out as a result. The aura of light surrounding the form made it all the more difficult to tell what it was, but what little he could make out had Sam shaking.

“How dare you defile my rose bushes!” a harsh, raspy voice boomed, with an eerie animal like quality.

Sam gulped, barely able to swallow through the sudden tightness in his throat. He stammered a reply, trying to explain himself, “I’m sorry, sir. I noticed your unique roses, and I wanted to take one for my daughter. She loves roses, and recently her own rose bushes were trampled. I meant no harm, I just hoped to cheer her up with one of these lovely roses.”

Sam scarcely dared breathe while he waited for a reply. Something in the figure’s posture softened, and it replied, in a much softer, though still somewhat feral, tone, “Take it and go.”

Not willing to waste a moment, in case it changed its mind, Sam took the rose and rushed off, quickly mounting his steed. Not daring to glance over his shoulder, he raced away through the woods not stopping until he reached home.

***

Clark had been unable to stay in his castle after looking into the mirror. He had taken off and just flown away as fast as he could, trying to outrun his thoughts. But, inevitably, they had caught up with him again, and he had stopped running and collapsed, emotionally worn out. Some time later, Clark was not sure how long, but judging from the sun he had been there all night, he made his way back home.

Upon his return, Clark noticed a figure in his garden. Anger welled up in Clark at the thought of yet another thief stealing from his castle. Quickly, he swept the castle but nothing seemed to be missing. Relieved, Clark was about to let it pass when the man reached out toward one of his flower bushes. His anger returned full force as he watched. Those roses had been a gift from Star, who had told him about the curse. When he had finally tracked her down, after their initial encounter, she had given him this strange rose and told him it would lead to his freedom from Tempus’ evil. Clark had not really believed her, but when he got home he had planted a cutting anyway. It had become his symbol of hope that someday he would be human again, or as close to human as he was before.

Now someone was tampering with the rose bush. Clark could not take it. He swooped down, positioning himself behind the man so that the sun was behind him and would blot out his features, unwilling to let anyone see him in this form. His animal nature taking control, Clark growled a warning. As the man explained himself, Clark’s reason reasserted itself. Ashamed of his outburst, Clark told the man to go and returned to the solitude of his castle. His loss of control was just a reminder of what he feared most, losing himself completely.

***

Lois waited impatiently for her father’s return. She worried about him whenever he went away, who knew what trouble he might run into on the road, especially late at night. Normally she would tend to her roses and try to take her mind off of it, but they were beyond care now. And thinking about it just upset her all over again. She could not concentrate on anything, not even her writing, and spent the time watching for her father’s return.

By the time the sun began to set, Lois was climbing walls. Her father should have been home hours ago. She was just about to give up waiting when he finally arrived home. “Daddy!” Lois exclaimed throwing her arms around him. “Welcome home. I was worried about you.”

“Hi Princess,” Sam replied, returning the hug. “Sorry I’m late, I got a little lost…” Trailing off, Sam produced the odd flower he had found to distract Lois from questioning him about getting lost. “I saw this and thought you might like it.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Lois exclaimed, taking the flower, totally distracted by it. “Where did you find a rose like this?”

Sam panicked for a second, not wanting to tell her about the castle, or the fearsome monster he had encountered there. Unable to come up with anything, he fumbled, “Uh, just happened to see it in a clearing in the woods over there,” gesturing in the general direction and praying she would drop the subject.

Lois could tell he was avoiding the subject, but rather than pressing it and make him suspicious, she decided to investigate later on her own. To allay her father’s fears though, she replied, “Oh, it doesn’t really matter. It’s so beautiful, thank you. I’ve never seen a rose like it.”

Sam was so relieved that she had not pressed the point, he decided not to press his luck. “Well it’s late Princess,” he said. “I think I should turn in. I’m tired from my journey. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lois watched her father go to bed, already planning to search for this mysterious clearing tomorrow. She might not have much to go on, but she was determined to make a good try of it. Satisfied, she headed for bed, intending to get an early start in the morning.

***

The next morning, Lois sneaked out as soon as she could without arousing suspicion. Her determination to discover where the unique flower had come from had not wavered all night, and she was barely able to contain her curiosity long enough to wait. She was not sure where to start, but she had an idea.

First, since she had never seen it before it could not be very close to the village. On the other hand, it could not be more than half a day or so’s ride, because her father had not been gone more than a day. Determined not to let lack of information stop her, she set off in the direction her father vaguely gestured.

After several hours of walking, Lois was getting tired. She was not used to going so far, normally she just stayed in the village. It had seemed so much easier back home when she had just been thinking about it. Not that she would let a little discomfort stop her, but she needed a rest. Only when she found a stump to sit on, did it occur to Lois she had not brought any food to eat. Well, she could live without food for one day. Might even do her some good.

Hungry, but unwilling to give in, Lois continued her search. As noon came and went, Lois began to wonder if her search would prove futile, as so far not a hint of her father’s trail, nor the wonderful rose had been found. Still, Lois pressed on, unready to admit defeat.

Soon after, Lois realized she would have to turn back if she did not want to be caught out after dark. Even now, she was not sure if she could make it home before nightfall. But she knew that if she returned, her father would do everything he could to prevent her from leaving again. Pushing her luck, she decided to press on a bit further before heading back.

Lois pressed her luck way too far, and began to notice the shadows creeping, telling her sunset was not far off. She cursed herself for being so stubborn, and began to look around the woods a tad fearfully, wondering what creatures night might bring. Lois decided it was time to turn back, and hoped she would not get lost or worse in the dark.

When she started home, Lois thought she saw something out of place to her right. Heading to where she could see past the trees easier, she could see a tower of some sort in the distance. Thinking perhaps salvation was at hand, from the encroaching darkness, she headed towards it. As she approached, she saw the tower was part of a large castle, surrounded by a high wall. Hoping whoever inhabited the castle was friendly, or at least non-hostile, she picked up her pace.

It was nearly dark by the time she reached the castle. Lois feared she might be stuck outside, but she noticed the gate was open. Hoping that it was a sign of friendliness, Lois entered the castle grounds. Upon entering, she gasped at the lovely garden she found herself in. Roses of every type, including several she had never seen before, bloomed everywhere she looked, including the one her father had brought.

She had found the source of the mysterious rose. Suddenly, she remembered her father’s fright and wondered what had been so terrifying. Briefly she considered fleeing, but when she looked back at the forbidding forest, decided she would rather confront the imagined horrors here than what she was certain would be out there.

Putting on a bold face, in spite of the fear she felt, Lois strode toward the castle. Upon reaching the entrance, she cautiously opened the door. Peering inside, she asked “Hello? Is anybody home?”

Her voice echoed loudly in the silence and Lois cringed. After a few moments without a reply, she let herself in. Slowly, she looked around. Suddenly, Lois yawned and she realized just how tired she really was from walking around all day. Searching around quickly, Lois found a soft couch to lie on, and promptly decided to use it for her bed. She was out mere seconds after lying down.

***

Clark spent a long time brooding and berating himself for almost losing control after the man fled. Eventually, he could not take being in the castle anymore and took off, flying aimlessly. If he had hoped to escape his thoughts though, it was not working. Thankfully, it was not too long before he heard a call for help. Donning his disguise, he raced to the rescue.

Afterwards, Clark was starting to feel a bit better. Helping others normally made him feel good about himself, as if he had a purpose for existing, even if he was a monster. He spent the rest of the day flying around and helping others in trouble.

When night approached he decided to stay out rather than going back home and possibly bringing back memories of what had transpired. He did not really need that much sleep anyway. He spent the night flying the countryside.

As the sun began to rise, he went to the top of a nearby mountain. He loved watching the sunrise, it was always so beautiful and invigorating. He always felt better when the first rays of the sun hit him, stronger somehow. The world was so beautiful from here, he felt so peaceful. He could almost forget the monster he was, gazing down like this.

Clark was drawn out of his reflections by a scream. ‘No rest for the weary,’ he thought as he raced off to the rescue. He spent the rest of the day flying around helping out as he could. This time, when dusk approached, Clark was beginning to feel tired so he decided it was time he headed home and got some sleep. Hopefully all the good he had done would help him forget about the earlier incident. More tired than he realized, he barely made it to his bed before collapsing into a deep sleep.

He woke early the next morning and immediately realized something was out of place with his castle. At first he could not place the feeling, but then he realized he was hearing a soft, steady thumping noise. After a few moments, it dawned on Clark that it was a heartbeat. Quickly scanning the castle, he saw a form lying asleep on a couch in his castle.

Despite his promises to himself, and his best attempts not to, the anger rose in him like a beast of its own. Storming through the castle, he approached the sleeping figure. As he neared the figure stirred.

“How dare you invade my castle?” Clark growled loudly. “What gives you the right to…?” He trailed off as the woman turned on him quickly, startled. She started backing away and tripped back onto the couch. As he looked into her terrified doe eyes, sudden recognition flooded him. It was the woman he had rescued the other day.

***

Lois was startled out of her sleep by the sound of something stomping through the castle. As she started to get up, a loud voice, with a strange bestial quality, growled at her.

“How dare you invade my castle?” it said, as she turned toward it.

There was a horrible looking monster growling at her. Suddenly frightened, Lois tried to back away but tripped over the couch she had slept on, ending up sitting on it again. This behemoth must be what had frightened her father. It continued growling at her, “What gives you the right to…?” Suddenly the monster trailed off.

The creature just stared at her. She was not sure what it was doing, but suddenly it seemed less threatening than before. Emboldened by this behavior, Lois jumped up and started yelling back.

“How dare you come storming in here, yelling at me, after you left the gate and door open. If you really don’t want anyone entering, why don’t you keep it locked up tight? Really, you think you’d at least find out why before you jump down my throat about it. Did it ever occur to you I might have a good reason? I didn’t want to be trapped out in the forest after dark. I just wanted shelter for the night. Honestly, it’s not like I was going to cause any harm.” Lois said quickly, hardly pausing to breathe.

It seemed to deflate before her. Quietly, and apologetically, it said, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I… I let my temper take control of me and I shouldn’t. It was wrong. Please, go. Leave before my control slips again.”

Lois’ fear was gone now, as she looked into its eyes, very human eyes, she noticed. Eyes that showed a pain and even fear that she did not quite understand, but something inside her made her want to reach out and sooth the pain away. She could not explain it.

“No, I suppose it is a bit suspicious to find someone in your castle, just like they own it. Maybe we should just start over.” Lois said, with more confidence than she actually felt. “Hi, I’m Lois. I was out in the woods and night was coming, so I sought refuge in your castle. The gate was open so I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

He, for now Lois thought of him that way, seemed utterly confused now. After a few moments, he replied, “Hi Lois, I’m Cl… Beast, you can call me Beast. That seems to be what they call me now. And you are welcome to shelter in my castle.”

Suddenly something clicked in Lois’ mind, and she was not sure if she should be afraid again or not. The Beast is what the townspeople called the monster that had been sent by the evil wizard Tempus and killed the Prince. Could this be the same one? Could this be the castle it had taken over? She had never known where it was.

“Are you the Beast that killed the prince?” She asked hesitantly, hoping not to anger him again.

A look of incredulousness fell upon his face. “Lois, I swear to you I never killed the Prince, nor anyone else for that matter. I’m not sure what happened to the Prince, but yes I believe this is his castle. It was deserted so I took refuge here, so as not to scare the townsfolk. I guess they assumed I had gotten rid of the Prince.”

Lois was not sure why, but she believed his story. Something she could not explain told her to trust him. “I believe you.” she responded.

Suddenly, his face brightened. He was obviously relieved she had believed him, which just affirmed her belief in him. She wondered what her dad had found so terrifying about him. Thinking about her dad reminded Lois he would probably be getting worried since she had been gone so long.

“I hate to cut this short,” she said, a touch regretfully, “but I have to be going. My father will be worried about me since I didn’t come home last night. I just hope I can find the way.”

The Beast’s face fell slightly. “Of course,” he said, his voice losing much of its bestial quality now that he had calmed down. “You’re from the nearby village aren’t you?”

Lois nodded and he continued, “I can show you the path, it’s a bit overgrown but you should be able to follow it. It’s a several hours walk…”

He trailed off and appeared to be pondering something. “Before you go, let me show you something. Follow me.”

Curious, Lois followed him, wondering what he might want to show her. He took her around the castle, towards a stable. In the pasture were several beautiful horses. She could not help but gasp, she loved horses but her father had not been able to support one. Why was he taking her here? Maybe it was something beyond the stable and pasture. To her surprise, he stopped near the pasture and gazed at the horses. Curious, she moved up to the fence next to him.

“These horses are some of my few companions. I feed them, treat them well, show them a little attention, and they don’t judge me by my appearance. I wish more people were like that,” the Beast said, a tad wistfully.

As he spoke, one of the horses, a pretty mare with a gray coat with scattered black flecks, trotted up by the fence and nuzzled Lois’ hand. Lois reached out and petted the mare on the head. “You’re right. People judge by appearance all too often,” Lois replied, briefly thinking of Lex.

“Well, you seem to have made a friend,” the Beast said, brightening. “She seems to have taken quite a shine to you. Why don’t you take her?”

“No, I couldn’t,” Lois protested. “It’s too much, she’s your horse.”

The Beast roared with laughter. “I have plenty of horses, besides it’s not like I ride them. This way you will be able to get home much faster. And I want to give you something, because you’re the first person who…” he paused for a moment, “hasn’t seen me as just a monster.”

Lois was not sure, but she suspected he might have started to say something else. Unable to resist the lure of her own horse, she gave in. “Alright, but I really should give you something in return.”

“That’s not necessary,” he protested.

“Nonsense,” she responded. “I know, I’ll come back and visit you again. You seem like you could use company sometimes.”

“I’d love that,” the Beast replied, grinning. “You’re welcome here any time.”

Something in the way his voice quivered told Lois that she had definitely made the right choice. With that settled, they saddled the horse, and he showed her the route home. As Lois rode home, she hoped her father would not be too worried about her.

***

Clark watched her ride away with a wistful smile. He still could not quite believe the events that had just occurred. He had lost his temper yet again. Ever since he had been changed into his present form, he seemed to have a hard time keeping it under control. And of all the times for it to happen, it had to be with Lois.

He still had a hard time believing that she had not fled out of his life forever, mere seconds after having stepped back into it. But instead of fleeing from him, as everyone else did, she had started yelling back at him. It was unbelievable. She had a courage and fire within her which only made him fall more deeply in love. Not that anything could ever come of it, she was too beautiful to be with a monster like him. She probably had someone back home anyway. Women like that did not stay single for long.

They had talked, the first time he had a real conversation in God knew how long. When they had introduced themselves, he had almost given his real name, but he could not do that. She would never believe what had happened to him. It was amazing enough she had believed him about not killing anyone. He had not been comfortable about it, but he had dodged around the truth, unwilling, and unable, to tell her the whole story.

As they had talked, he was more and more convinced that he had fallen for her. It was bittersweet talking with her, but he would not trade it for anything. His life might be hundreds of times harder now, knowing what he was missing, but for today he was happy. He would let himself dream until tomorrow, then he would let reality come crashing back in.

When Lois said she needed to go, he had taken her to the stables on a whim. He had wanted to give her something in return for just talking to him like he was a human again. When he saw the way her eyes lit up when she saw the horses, Clark knew he had made the right decision. After a little persuasion, he had managed to get her to accept his gift.

Then the most amazing thing had happened. He had not thought anything could be better than what had already occurred, but she had actually asked if she could visit him again. It was all Clark could do to keep his composure and not break out in tears. He had never imagined she would want to see him again. He agreed, and wondered when she would return. He hoped it would not be too long.

***

Sam was very worried about his daughter. It had not been too unusual when she was gone before he woke up. Lois was a very independent spirit, and he knew better than to try and control her. When she had not returned for lunch, he was a little worried, but while it was not common for her to not come home for lunch, it was not unheard of for her to stay out. By the time darkness started to fall, he was really worried though. What if something had happened to her? Unable to do anything with night encroaching, he went to bed and a restless night.

In the morning things were just worse. Lois was still missing, and he was convinced something had happened to her. He was going to go into town and organize a search party. Could, God forbid, Lex be behind this somehow? No, no he would not do anything like this. Besides, he would not get away with it. She was probably just lost in the woods somewhere. She must have taken the wrong path and gotten turned around. She would be just fine. She had to be.

First, he started searching the house for clues as to where she might have gone. He came across the flower, could she have… no, it was impossible. Besides she would never find the castle and that monster. When he was all ready to head to town and find help, Lois walked in the door.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, upset. “I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Lois said. “I got lost in the forest and I couldn’t find my way back in the dark. I came back as soon as I could.”

Sam immediately felt guilty for being gruff. “It’s okay, princess,” he said softly, hugging her tightly. “You’re back home and safe now. That’s all that matters.”

He quickly forgot his worries and was just glad to have his daughter back safe and sound.

***

Lois was relieved when her father had not asked her for details about what had happened. She knew he would be upset if she told him the whole truth. As much as she loved her dad, she knew he would never approve of her befriending the Beast. Somehow, she felt drawn to him despite his appearance, and she knew that he had no one else. He needed her, of that she was certain.

Lois was not sure when she would be able to visit him again, but she would be sure to do it as soon as she could. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to go back. She was restless, but felt she had to stay home to allay her father’s worries. Somehow she would just have to keep herself occupied at home.

She did go out a few times to tend to her new horse, hidden just out of sight of the cabin in the forest. She was really touched by the gift, though she did not really understand it. How lonely the Beast must have been to have given such a gift to the first person who talked to him without being afraid of his appearance. She felt so sorry for him; he must be so lost and alone.

Eventually, the day came to an end. She curled up in bed wondering about her new friend, how he handled being an outcast. Well, no more, she decided. Whatever happened, she would be his friend. Sometime later, she fell asleep.

***

By the time dawn rolled around, Clark had almost convinced himself that yesterday had been just a dream. There was no way Lois had actually showed up at his castle. Better yet she had even wanted to be his friend. It was impossible. He would never see her again.

Even when he heard hoof beats approaching the castle, he dared not get his hopes up. Surely it was not her, just some traveler passing by. It could not be her. Not until someone was entering the gates did Clark finally allow himself to think it might be Lois.

As he watched her approach, Clark smiled broadly. Just seeing her made him feel lightheaded. In fact, he realized with a start he was beginning to float. Quickly reasserting control, he hoped Lois had not noticed anything out of the ordinary. Chastising himself, Clark strode out to greet her.

“Lois,” Clark said, beaming. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.”

“You didn’t think I’d just take your horse and ride out of your life forever did you?” Lois teased.

Clark laughed, nervously. In a way that had been exactly what he had thought. Again he chided himself for his pessimism. Lois was continually surprising him.

They talked for hours about many different subjects. Sharing some of their likes and dislikes, just getting to know each other. All too soon it was time for Lois to head home. Their parting was bittersweet as Lois promised to return within the next few days. Clark watched her ride off, astounded by this wonderful woman who had entered into his life and gave him a sliver of hope again.

***

The last few weeks had been some of the happiest in Lois’ life. She had never really had any friends. The only people she was close to where her father and Perry, who was very much like a second father to her. She had never been close to the other girls her age because their interests did not coincide. While she loved reading and wanted adventure, they had all been interested in dolls and then later boys. It had not helped that as she had grown so did her beauty. The other girls had often been jealous and excluded her even more as they grew.

As for boys, while she had more in common with them, they rarely were interested in friendship. At least that was in the beginning, before she had caught Lex’s eye. After that, none of the boys would do more than glance at her before quickly turning and heading away. She knew he had probably threatened them. It had led to her having an isolated life.

She had always had her books, and later her writing to keep her company. As much as she loved that though, she now realized something had been missing. The Beast had become her only true friend, and today she was going to share her secret with him.

She had recently learned that he shared her interest in books and wanted to show him her latest writings. After all, much of it had been inspired by him. She hoped he would like it. She grabbed her latest copy and headed for her horse.

Lois was nervous when she approached the castle. She was a little apprehensive about how the Beast would react to learn about her writing and how she got her work published. Part of her was afraid he would look down on her and tell her women were not supposed to do these types of things. Screwing her courage to the sticking place. Lois entered the castle ground.

The Beast greeted her warmly as he always did. Smiling sheepishly, Lois said, “There’s something I want to tell you about.”

“What is it, Lois?” the Beast asked.

“Well…” Lois said, unsure of how to broach the subject. “Remember how we talked about our love of reading books? Well I had decided I would like to write my own at some point, so I started writing stories. Then Perry, did I tell you about Perry, he’s the owner of the town book store and well, we’ve always been close. I think he thinks of me like a daughter.”

Lois just kept talking, barely pausing to take a breath. She kept plowing through, knowing if she stopped she would not be able to get it all out. “Anyway, one day I finally showed him one of my stories, I just wanted to see if it was any good. I mean my father told me it was the best story he ever read but of course he’s biased and I couldn’t trust his opinion.”

She was full on babbling now and she just could not stop it. The words just kept pouring out of her mouth. She did not even dare look at the Beast, for fear of seeing his reaction. “Perry told me the story was really good, and I just couldn’t believe it. I said something, I don’t even really remember what anymore, about never being able to get it published because no one would take a young girls story and publish it. But Perry insisted he had a friend who would publish it, as long as we pretended a male had written it. So he made up the name Lewis Lane and got my first novel published.”

“I’ve had a few others published since then. The proceeds are all donated to charities, the publisher thinks Lewis is a recluse who doesn’t want any money, but really it’s because my father is just a poor inventor and people would notice if we suddenly had more money and we don’t want to bring any extra attention to ourselves.” Lois glanced up at the Beast quickly and saw a look of horror on his face. She stopped suddenly and looked away. She knew it, he did not approve of a woman writing and lying to get published.

“That’s entirely unfair,” the Beast said, a hint of anger in his voice. “You should be getting the proceeds from your books. You shouldn’t have to hide and give away all the money. That’s unbelievably wrong.”

It took a few moments for his words to penetrate. Suddenly she realized, the look of horror was not for what she had done, but the situation which prevented her from acknowledging her work and profiting from it. She felt her eyes tear up and tried, unsuccessfully, to prevent herself from crying.

“Oh Lois, I’m so sorry,” the Beast said tenderly. He moved as if to hold her, but stopped suddenly. Sensing he was afraid to touch her, Lois closed the gap and lay her head upon his chest. He encircled her with his arms and just held her. She felt so safe and protected in his arms, and eventually she was able to get her emotions in check again. They separated, but remained closer together than before.

“It’s not your fault,” Lois said, when she felt steady enough to speak again. “No one has ever quite understood like you did. The money doesn’t bother me though, really. I know it’s going to help people. The really important thing is getting my work out there. Though, I would love for it to be under my own name.”

“Thank you so much for understanding,” she told the Beast. “I wanted to give you a chance to read this,” she said, handing him her unpublished work. “It’s going to be my next novel, and I would love to know what you think of it.”

“I’m sure I’d love anything you wrote,” the Beast replied, smiling.

Feeling emotionally drained, Lois bid the Beast farewell and headed home.

***

As Clark watched Lois leave, he again marveled at the wonderful woman she was. He could tell she had been nervous as soon as he saw her. Little had he expected what she had told him. It had been a wonder to watch her keep talking on, hardly pausing for breath. It had almost made him breathless, even though he could hold his breath a very, very long time.

He had been amazed to hear about her writing, and thankful that she had been able to get published. But his anger had reared its ugly head when she told him about not being able to get anything for it. When he told her his feelings, she had surprised him again by breaking down and crying. He had wanted nothing more than to hold her, but had not felt he had the right.

But then Lois did something completely unexpected again. She had come to him and he had held her tightly to his chest. It had just felt so right, holding her there. He comforted her, helping to sooth her. He had never wanted to let her go again.

Clark had almost told her his whole story then, but he was afraid. He just was unsure how to explain how he had been transformed into a monster. Besides, if he told her everything about the curse, she would probably freak out and never want to be near him again. After all, the thought that he might love her as a man loves a woman would repulse her. And she would never return his love, so there was no point. He would still remain a beast forever.

Of course, Clark did have another secret he could tell Lois. He could tell her that the mysterious being known as the Angel was him. But he was afraid of scaring her away. After all, she probably would not take well to the fact he was probably some abandoned fay child. Knowing he was being cowardly, Clark had held onto his secrets.

Then she had given him her latest story to read. After she left, he had sat down to read it and was floored. It was obvious she had used him for inspiration. The story told the tale of a kind, but very lonely man who was isolated by a hideous appearance. He was very moved to see her treatment of him, and it was one of the best stories he had ever read. Especially because she had shared with him. As had happened so often of late, his love for her continued to deepen.

***

Deciding that now was time to close the deal with Beauty, Lex had to come up with the perfect ring. She was getting on in years and it was time to stop this foolish independent streak she often exhibited. He would tame her. He knew just what would finally end her reluctance to his advances.

Many years ago, Lex had come upon several strange crystals, of varying sizes. They had resembled some sort of emerald, but appeared to be magical. The glow it gave off enchanted Lex. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He had collected as many as he could find and brought them home.

Lex quickly set about getting the rock cut into gems for his use. They turned out to be very delicate, and he went through three different jewelers before finding one that could cut it without destroying the entire rock. And those that had destroyed his precious rocks, well they would not have a chance to fail anyone again. He had been left with a precious few gems in the end.

He would have one of these gems set into a betrothal ring. Surely then Beauty would accept and become his wife. He was certain the lure of the gem would be more than enough to break through her reluctance. She would finally belong to him as it was meant to be.

Satisfied, Lex went to retrieve a gem from his hiding spot.

***

As the days passed without Lois visiting, Clark began to worry. While true it had not been the longest passage of time between visits, Lois had been so emotional at the last one that Clark feared she might be avoiding him. Maybe he had overstepped some bound when comforting her. Or perhaps she was just embarrassed over losing control like that.

He briefly considered flying to the nearby village and checking to make sure she was okay, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It would not be right of him to invade her privacy like that, she would return if and when she decided to, and not a moment sooner. He would just have to be patient.

Clark realized he had been spending more and more time at the castle, and less flying around. He still left when he heard a cry for help, but he had been staying close not only to be with Lois, but to be near if she came to visit. He found himself reluctant to spend time away for fear he would miss even a moment with her.

Lois had become an essential component of his life in such a short time. If he were honest with himself, he had known she was a necessary part of his life since he met her. He was not sure what to make of the changes in his habits, but decided he still needed to fly and look for help beyond his normal range of hearing from time to time.

‘Now would be a good time to start,’ Clark thought. And if he checked on the castle more frequently it did not mean anything. Did it?

***

Lois groaned when she saw Lex approaching the cottage. She was planning on making another trip to the Beast’s castle and the last thing she wanted was to have to spend even a moment with Lex instead. Pasting a smile on her face as he drew near, Lois said, “Hello Lex. What brings you here this morning?”

Lex ogled her, as he was wont to do, as he said, “Why, to see you of course, Beauty.”

Suppressing a sigh at his continued insistence of calling her Beauty, Lois could not help but think about how much he looked like a snake when he smiled. She hoped it would not take too long to get rid of him, not feeling up to dealing with his presence today. It had been several days since she last made it to visit the Beast and she knew the Beast would be lonely and worried, especially if she did not see him soon.

Their last visit had been very emotional for her, and she hated to think the Beast might think she was avoiding him. She had just been busy, finishing up her novel and getting it to Perry. Copying everything to show the Beast had helped her a bit in that regard, but she had felt the need to go back and change things even more.

“I know you’ve been worried about not being good enough for me,” Lex continued, still wearing that snake-like grin. “But I wanted to assure you that you are the one for me.”

Lex pulled out a ring, capped with an eerie, glowing green gem. Lois was repulsed by the sickly light and wanted nothing more than to get away from it. Something about it just felt so wrong to her. Caught up in her revulsion, she barely registered his next words. “Marry me, Beauty,” he said, slipping the ring on her finger as she stood stunned.

Lois felt trapped. The revolting ring was on her finger, and Lex had just presumed she would take it. He had not even asked her to marry him. It was more like a demand. She felt her anger flaring, but knew it would be too dangerous to let anything show. She had to do something about it, though what that something was, she had no clue.

“Oh Lex, I just… I just can’t. It’s too much, too soon. I need some time,” Lois stammered. She removed the ring and returned it to Lex. “You have to understand, I’m just not ready for marriage yet. Just give me some more time, please?” She batted her eyelashes, in, she hoped, a coquettish way.

Not giving Lex a chance to reply, Lois fled into the cottage as quickly as she dared. She just could not be in his presence any longer. Once inside, she tried to get control of herself and slow her racing heart and breathing. She had no idea how to deal with Lex. She briefly considered talking to the Beast about it, but quickly dismissed it. She knew Lex was dangerous and could not bring herself to put the Beast in any risk. She would have to find a way to deal with it on her own. Lois wondered if she would be able to, without ending up married to such a monster.

Not for the first time, Lois wondered why some people were so beautiful on the outside and ugly on the inside and others were ugly on the outside and beautiful on the inside. Lex was certainly the former, while her Beast was most definite the latter. Lois started for a moment when she realized she was beginning to think of the Beast as hers. Unsure what to make of that, she once again left her home. This time she would make it to visit her friend.

***

Lex watched darkly as Beauty left. He did not understand what was preventing her from accepting his proposal. He had done his best to convince her she was worthy of him. He had even had a gem made from his magical crystal stash to show her. She claimed to need more time, but he sensed there was something else behind it.

Not one to be deterred, Lex decided he would have to do something about it. He decided to follow Beauty, carefully so she would not see him, and investigate. He looked around and found a spot where he could remain hidden and keep an eye out.

Lex did not have to wait long, as a short time later he watched as Beauty left the cottage. He followed, keeping his distance, as she headed into the nearby forest. He frowned as he watched her mount a horse. ‘Where did she get that horse,’ Lex mused. It was a fine specimen, and far beyond the means of her father. Suspicious, Lex decided to track the horse and see where they went.

Before setting off, he returned to his hidden stash and replaced the ring. It would be safe there until he returned. He would give it back to Beauty after removing whatever was causing her to hesitate. She would be his soon enough.

He followed the tracks left by the horse for many hours, refusing to give up. Eventually the tracks led him to a large castle. Lex frowned, ‘What is Beauty doing here,’ he wondered. Whatever it was surely involved that horse he had seen. Quietly, he approached to peer into the courtyard.

From his vantage point, he could only see a small portion of the garden inside, but he spotted Beauty easily. She was conversing with a figure just out of his vision. The voices were unintelligible at this distance, but the other figures voice was distinctively masculine.

Lex cursed quietly. Someone else was courting his Beauty. This would not do, he would have to remove this competition. Then suddenly the figure moved into his line of sight and he almost fell. Beauty was conversing with a hideous creature. Quickly moving out of view, Lex settled in to wait. He would take care of this beast once Beauty was safely away.

***

Clark turned as he thought he heard something outside the courtyard walls. Just as he was about to engage his special vision to check things out, Lois called his attention back, saying, “Am I really that boring?”

“Huh?” Clark mumbled, caught off guard.

“Well it sure looks like you’ve decided the courtyard wall is so much more fascinating than I am,” Lois said, teasingly.

“I’m sorry, Lois,” Clark said, apologetically. “I thought I heard something and was just trying to check it out.”

Lois started laughing uncontrollably. “If only you could see your face. That look, it’s just so out of place on your face,” Lois tittered.

Clark paused, thinking for a moment trying to imagine how he might look. He tried to picture his grotesque mug looking sorry, from Lois’ perspective. Suddenly, he started laughing with Lois. With a start, he realized for the first time he was not repulsed by the thought of his own appearance. That just caused him to guffaw even harder. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and it was all due to Lois.

“Thank you, Lois,” he said, tenderly. Whatever he might have heard earlier was completely forgotten.

“Thank you for what?” Lois asked.

“For being my friend. For accepting me as I am. For helping me forget, even for a moment. For making me feel…” Clark paused, afraid to give away too much. Not wanting to scare her by declaring his love, as he had come dangerously close to doing. “Just for being you,” he finished.

He saw Lois’ cheeks start to turn red. He was afraid he had said too much already when she replied, “You know, for a Beast, you are the sweetest man I’ve ever known.” She smiled at him softly.

Taking Lois’ arm in his, he led her on a stroll in the rose garden. Clark knew how much she loved being among the roses, so they often spent time here. His heart was so light and he had to keep struggling to make sure his feet stayed firmly on the ground. He had not been this happy for a very long time. He had nearly forgotten what it felt like.

***

He was determined to do away with this rival for Beauty. He had decided she must be under some sort of spell cast by this Beast, which had to be why she had rejected him. Once the monster was defeated, she would be his again. He lurked, waiting outside the castle, watching for Beauty to leave. Finally, as the sun was just beginning to set, he saw her ride out from the castle and toward home. Now was his chance. Once she was out of sight, he approached the castle stealthily.

As he neared the castle, he could see a figure upon a balcony watching something in the distance. Though he could not tell from the distance, he was certain it was the Beast he had seen Beauty with earlier. Wasting no time, he crept into the castle heading for his prey.

Upon reaching the tower leading to the balcony where he had seen the creature, Lex began his assent. When he finally reached the top, he was delighted to see the Beast still staring off into the distance. This was his chance. He quickly drew an arrow and knocked it, letting it fly.

With surprising quickness, the Beast turned toward him. Lex watched gleefully as the arrow headed straight for its chest. The arrow hit and shattered. Momentarily stunned with disbelief, Lex quickly recovered. The Beats must have some sort of hidden protection. Unfazed, Lex drew his dagger from underneath his tunic. He approached the Beast, certain he could finish it off in close quarters. The blade glinted in the waning sunlight. The gem in its hilt pulsed with a sickly, green glow.

***

Clark sat in the setting sun, watching Lois ride off. Using his abilities, he was able to watch her long after a normal man would have lost sight of her. It had become a habit of his, sitting on top of the tower watching her all the way home. He tried halfheartedly to convince himself he was just concerned for her safety, but deep down he knew he just was not ready to let her out of his sight.

He began to reflect on the time he had known Lois. She was such a marvel, and he realized he was hopelessly in love with her. She was just perfect, but she only saw him as a friend. However, he would treasure and hold that friendship dear to him for all eternity. That was all he could expect from Lois and it was more than he felt he deserved.

Suddenly, a twang broke Clark out of his reflections and he turned toward the noise just in time for an arrow to shatter against his chest. There was a man advancing on him holding a strange looking dagger. Clark sighed, wondering what brought another intruder to his castle. Was he here for fame or glory? Treasure? He just did not feel like dealing with it now. Luckily, he knew he was in no danger so he began to approach the intruder.

As they closed in on each other, Clark suddenly felt the oddest sensation. The room was starting to seem shaky and then his body flared in what he shortly realized was pain. It was a sensation he had not felt since before his transformation, before even his abilities had begun to develop. Confused, he looked around frantically trying to determine what was happening. When his eyes landed on the glowing gem in the dagger hilt, Clark instinctively knew it was harming him and could lead to his death. All he could think about was getting away from it.

“Not so tough when you have to face a real man,” Lex said as Clark retreated the way he had come. “Did you really think you could offer Beauty anything? You are just a monster.”

Lex continued to chase Clark all the way to the edge of the balcony. The pain intensified as Lex closed, but Clark had nowhere left to run.

“I shall enjoy watching you suffer before you die,” Lex sneered. “That will teach you to come between me and my desires.”

Lex plunged the dagger into Clark’s side as he roared in agony. Clark could not decide which was worse, the wound from the dagger or the increased proximity of the strange jewel. As Lex pulled the knife out and shifted his grip to make another stab, Clark flailed about wildly, knocking his attacker’s arm.

Lex watched in horror as his precious dagger flew from his hand and, unthinkingly, he lurched toward it. Grasping at as the dagger plunged toward the ground below, Lex lost his balance and reeled wildly as he too toppled over the edge. He managed to grab onto Clark’s leg as he fell. Clark’s relief at the dagger’s sudden disappearance was short lived as he too was pulled over the edge.

Clark shot his hand out quickly and barely managed to hold onto the edge of the balcony. The sudden stop jarred Lex loose from his leg, and Clark stretched his free arm trying to grab on but he watched in horror as the man fell and hit the ground below with a loud crack. Weak and barely able to hold on, Clark knew he was in trouble. He attempted to grab the ledge with his other hand but his strength fled him and his tenuous hold slipped.

Falling was a strange sensation for Clark, who was so used to having free reign of the skies. He tried in vain to fly but that strange jewel had somehow robbed him of all his abilities. He managed to stop for a brief moment, but gravity quickly reasserted itself as if it had resented all those times he had managed to defy its pull. His last thoughts were of regretting being unable to tell Lois he loved her. Then he hit the ground with a thud and knew only darkness.

***

As Lois headed home, she had felt an increasing sense of wrongness and foreboding, as if somehow she knew the Beast was in trouble. Pulling up on her horses reins, she brought the mare to a stop. She quickly turned the horse around and rode off at a gallop back towards the castle.

The race back was the longest the trip had ever been as the sense of dread grew inside her. Nearing the castle, she could just make out two figures grappling on a nearby tower. When she noticed a faint green, glow coming from the towers she gasped, knowing it was Lex grappling with the Beast. How he had come to be here, and why he was attacking the Beast she did not know, but somehow she knew it was her fault. Lex must have seen them together and decided to eliminate the competition for her attention.

Lois choked back a sob as she leapt from the horse to race towards the tower. She watched in horror as one figure toppled over the edge and pulled the other with him. For a moment, both were clinging to the edge then she saw one of them begin falling. She watched as the figure of Lex tumbled towards the ground landing with a sickening crack.

Quickly turning her eyes from the unmoving body, she saw the Beast struggling to hold on. Praying she could reach the top in time, Lois raced for the tower. Her hope turned to despair as she watched the Beast lose his grip and drop toward the ground below. She watched him fall as if in slow motion, feeling as she was moving through molasses. For a moment it almost seemed like the Beast stopped in his fall and she hoped to see the Angel rushing to his rescue. But alas it must have been her imagination as he continued his plummet into the ground, landing with a dull thud.

Time started to move normal again and she continued running to the fallen Beast. When she reached his motionless form, she collapsed next to him. Tears began to stream down her face as she held him and sobbed.

***

After a seeming eternity in darkness, consciousness slowly returned to Clark. Pain had been replaced by a certain numbness. He felt like he was floating, and for a moment began to wonder if he was dead. It was almost as if he was no longer attached to his body. Soon Clark began to feel a dull, distant ache.

As more awareness of his body returned, he felt something, or rather someone, pressed against him. Eventually he was able to recognize that it was Lois. Her crying was like a knife to his soul. He struggled to respond as he heard her plead, “Please don’t leave me. You just can’t. Come back to me please.”

‘I’d never leave you Lois,’ he thought, unable to speak. His body just would not respond it still seemed to be a long way off. He could not bear to hear Lois in such pain. Try as he might, his muscles just would not respond.

His heart was breaking as he heard Lois, barely a whisper, say “I love you.”

Suddenly the darkness Clark was trapped in exploded with light.

***

Lois continued weeping over the broken form of the Beast. Seeing him like this had helped her realize the depth of her feelings for him. And now it was too late. She would never know happiness again.

Suddenly, she felt movement below her. Startled, she sat up and watched as the Beast’s body began to float in the air before her. Lois watched incredulously as light began streaming off the beast, growing brighter and brighter until she could look no more and had to turn away.

When the light died down, she turned back to see the most handsome man she had ever seen looking at her. Before she could begin to voice a question, he said, “Lois, it’s me.”

Lois looked at the man very closely. He did not look familiar, except the eyes. She would recognize those eyes anywhere. She had gazed into them many times and saw the same concern and affection she always did. That is how she knew this was her Beast. “It is you,” Lois said, smiling.

Leaping into his arms, they kissed. It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Lois and she knew she was home now. And it was only the beginning.

***

EPILOGUE

Clark had never been happier in his life. Less than a year ago he had been wallowing in his own misery, convinced he would remain a monster forever. Then his salvation, Lois, had literally dropped into his life. He had loved her from the beginning, but never really dared hope for her love in return.

Lois had continually surprised him, first by standing up to him when he had lost his temper. Then she had gone on to befriend him. And though it took nearly dying, she had given him her love.

Upon his return to his natural form, he had revealed what happened to the entire kingdom. The council had ruled to coronate him as soon as possible. Within a month he was crowned king. He had never desired power for himself, but felt a duty to rule his kingdom fairly.

Today Clark had finally given the kingdom a new queen. Though not of royal blood, he had insisted he wanted to marry Lois, if she would have him. She had laughed when he said that. Her acceptance had actually caused him to lift off the floor. That had forced Clark to tell her about his double life as the Angel.

Lois had been remarkably understanding. She had encouraged him to continue, readily seeing his inability to not help when he could.

Now, as he danced with his beautiful bride, he again had to struggle to stay on the ground. Suddenly, he heard a far off cry for help. He had not wanted to tear himself away from Lois, but she had said “Go. You’re needed.”

Leaving the ball room as quickly as he dared, he smiled. Just as Star had promised, the rose she had given him had brought love into his life and ended the curse. Life was perfect.

***

Lois watched as Clark ran off to go help someone in need. She smiled softly as she thought about all the changes in the past year. She thought she had been content with her life, but now realized just how empty it was. Now she knew what true happiness was because she had found her soul mate.

Her life had completely changed the day that Lex trampled her flowers. She had not known it at the time, but that was the day she first met Clark. He had saved her from her own foolishness. She had just blindly run off a cliff only to be rescued by the mysterious Angel. Now that she knew Clark, it was so obvious he would do something like that with the gifts he had been given. Any other man would have used them to conquer as many kingdoms as possible. But all Clark wanted to do was help people.

When Clark had told her about his unique heritage and revealed that he was the Angel, Lois had been shocked. She had thanked him for saving her life that day. Clark had replied that she had saved his life that day.

He had told her how he was just going through the motions and had given up hope, until he had found her. His hope had been rekindled that day. Then he had said every day since then had been a blessing for him, because she was in his life. Her heart had melted, and if it was possible, she had loved him even more in that moment.

They had discussed what to do about his rescues. Lois knew he could never give up helping, so refused to hear anything about him giving it up for her. He would tear himself apart. However, he had insisted he would continue to remain anonymous and kept himself disguised. He said he was afraid for her safety, but Lois felt that deep down inside he was afraid the kingdom would reject him again.

Clark said he understood everyone being afraid of the Beast, and they had certainly welcomed him back readily when he revealed himself after the curse was broken. Some had even said he should have told them, they would have understood and stayed by his side. But Lois knew Clark did not believe it. And she was certain, even if he himself was not aware of it, the fear it would all happen again prevented him from showing his abilities openly.

Still, Lois had never been happier, and today she had become his queen. She told everyone the King was tired from today and had retired and she would be joining him shortly. She headed off to their bed chambers to await his return. Life was indeed perfect.

***

It was widely said that the only things that surpassed the Queen’s beauty were her quick mind and kind heart. The King often left meeting petitioners to the Queen, but when he sat in it was whispered he must have some sixth sense. Rumor had it that it was impossible to tell a lie before the King without his knowledge. They also said that sometimes it seemed as if the King could gaze right through you. But he was always fair.

Through the years the Angel continued to appear when needed, saving many people. It was widely said this was a sign that their reign was blessed from above. And under their rule the kingdom prospered for many long years.

As for Lois and Clark, they lived happily ever after.

THE END

A Little Advice

By Caroline K <kalinalea@gmail.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: January 2012

Summary: Set during the events of Season 2's "That Old Gang of Mine," Superman gets some much-needed advice from an unexpected source.

***

"Hello Mr. White," Superman said. "I understand you needed to see me."

Perry gave the superhero a grim look and offered his hand. "Yes, I do, Superman. Thanks for coming by." He waved in the direction of the chair. "Have a seat."

Superman sat obediently, facing the editor's desk. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked politely.

Perry didn't bother with further niceties. "Clark Kent was one of the most promising reporters I've come across in a lot of years, and he's the only one I've ever met who could work with Lois Lane." His eyes narrowed. "Lois is special to me, Superman."

Superman cleared his throat. "I know, sir. But…" He was going to ask where all this was headed, but the Chief interrupted him.

"I'm not sure she's going to get over this." Perry sounded almost accusatory. "She blames herself for what happened to Clark."

"She shouldn't. I've…heard what happened. It wasn't her fault."

"Maybe, maybe not. We both know that Lois takes crazy chances sometimes. But even though she might not think twice about risking her own life, she'd never have gone there that night if she'd known she could lose Clark. He meant a lot to her."

"She meant a lot to him," Superman said softly.

"He was in love with her," Perry said, giving Superman a shrewd look. "Did you know that?"

Superman's jaw clenched slightly before he answered. "Yes," he said. "I've always known that."

"Did you know that she was in love with him?" Perry watched his guest closely as his question hit home. He leaned back in his chair and gave it a few seconds to sink in before going on. "She was. Is. I'm not sure she knew it herself until Clark was gone and she thought there was no getting him back. But she knows it now and thinks it's too late."

"It is," Superman said, losing his battle to keep his voice steady. "It is too late."

"Bull!" Perry bellowed, surprising them both with his vehemence. "Judas Priest, son! You're Superman!" He glowered at the superhero before him and jabbed his finger at him for emphasis. "I want you to fix this, and I want you to do it now! I don't care what kind of cockamamie yarn you have to spin, but dammit, I want Clark Kent resurrected from the grave and back on the beat."

Superman blanched and then hung his head before saying in a low voice. "Clark took three bullets in the chest at point blank range in front of a room full of witnesses." He raised his head and met Perry's eyes, his face utterly bleak. "Clark Kent is dead."

"You're tellin' me the problem," Perry said, smacking his desk impatiently. "I know the problem. What I want is a solution!"

Superman took a deep breath. "If Clark Kent was found to be…not dead, and people figured out why, his life would be over anyway. It'd be a circus…a freak show. He'd have nothing to offer Lois, nothing to offer the Planet. Can't you see that?"

Perry's mouth lifted in a humorless smile. "That just means we have to make sure they don't figure out why." He leaned forward and looked at Superman intently. "Whatever we come up with — even if it's a little far-fetched — people are going to believe it for two very good reasons. One, because it's going to be plastered all over the front page of The Daily Planet, and The Daily Planet doesn't lie. And two, because Clark Kent was one of the good guys, and people want to believe that good things sometimes actually happen to the people who deserve it. They'll believe it because Clark champions the little people, the people who can't speak for themselves, and because he was young and handsome and had his entire life ahead of him. They'll believe it because they want to believe it. All we have to do is meet them halfway, and you watch — they'll do the rest themselves."

Superman sighed and slumped forward, relinquishing his superhero posture to rest his elbows on his knees and cradle his head in his hands. "You just said yourself that the Planet doesn't lie. Neither does Superman."

"Well, we're both going to have to make an exception in this case," Perry said firmly. "The world needs Clark Kent — and I mean the Clark Kent who wears a coat and tie to work. I happen to think that the pen — Clark Kent's pen — is mightier, even, than Superman. Clark still has work to do, stories to write, and I'm not losing him to blue tights and a cape without putting up one hell of a fight. Can you really just fly out of here and leave that work undone? Can you leave Lois? Let her grieve?"

"God knows I don't want to, Chief!" Clark looked at Perry in despair, his eyes wild. "But I've been over it and over it in my mind. How could I possibly have survived?"

"You were wearing a bullet-proof vest," Perry suggested, sounding excited by the idea. "You knew this assignment could be dangerous, and so you took precautions."

"Even with a vest, I'd be bruised," Clark pointed out, but he sounded more hopeful. "If anyone examined me…"

"They won't," Perry said. "I swear to you, son, we can do this. No one will question it."

"What if…"

"Yeah?"

"What if we said that Superman saved me using Dr. Hamilton's procedure? I mean, I've been dead a lot less time than Capone and the others. And if someone insisted on examining me, they wouldn't find anything unusual."

Perry raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, as long as it was just a quick once-over," Clark said. "I can alter my vital statistics so that they mimic a normal person's." There was just the slightest emphasis on the word 'normal.' Just the slightest, but Perry heard it and it made his heart ache for the young man in front of him.

"It could work," he said thoughtfully. "The science involved is way above the head of the average man on the street, and that's a point in our favor. They won't understand how it all happened, but they'll see your face on the front page and just be glad it did."

"You think?" Clark asked, sounding hopeful.

"I think it's worth a try," Perry said. "We live in a city with its own resident flying superhero. Folks here are conditioned to believe the unbelievable."

"Maybe," Clark conceded, "but there's still a risk, Chief. This could blow up in our faces. In my face for sure and maybe in yours, too, if the Planet backs me up." He looked at Perry hopefully. "Do you really think…do you really think she loves me?"

Perry threw back his head and laughed for the first time that day. "Son, I'm as sure of that as I am of my own name. She loved part of you at first sight…" he gestured at the brightly colored suit, "and the rest of you almost as long. And it's none of my business, but I can't help thinking the path to true love might've been a little more smooth if you hadn't confused the heck out of her by being two people."

Clark looked chagrined. "So how long have you known?"

"Oh, a long time now," Perry told him with a grin. "Since the heat wave not long after you came here. I got a kick out of boring you with those Elvis stories and watching you try to keep your eyes from glazing over. Very polite fellow, that Superman."

Clark smiled. "His mother used to wash his mouth out with soap if he wasn't. She probably still would, come to think of it."

"I talked to your parents," Perry said, sobering. "I got the feeling they don't like lying any more than you do."

"They hate it," Clark said flatly. "And I hate asking it of them." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "But what choice did I have?"

"It's none of my business, but don't you think the time has come to let Lois in on your secret?"

"I dunno, Chief." Clark shook his head.

"She's a whole lot better liar than you are, son. That'll be a big help right there. And if something like this should happen again…well, she'd've been spared a whole lot of grief if she'd known. It's been all I could do, frankly, not to tell her myself. She's a wreck, Clark."

"Won't keep her from killing me when she finds out I've been lying to her all this time," Clark said glumly.

"Well, look on the bright side — she can't kill you without some of that Kryptonite, and it's not too easy to come by."

Clark sighed. "This is Lois we're talking about, Chief. She's not going to let a little thing like needing Kryptonite stand in her way. She knows guys who know guys, remember?"

Perry's mouth quirked in a smile. "She's not going to kill you. But she just might if she finds out later and realizes you let her grieve for a man who wasn't dead."

"I'll think about it," Clark said, still sounding doubtful.

"Well, it's your decision," Perry said. "You just get Clark Kent alive again and turning in stories, and I'll go back to pretending I don't notice that he's in love with his partner or that he bolts out of my newsroom ten times a day."

Clark smiled. "Thanks, Chief." He stood up, shaking out his cape a bit. "I guess I'd better get on this whole resurrection thing. I'm going to see if Lois is around. I don't know if I'm ready to tell her…everything, but if she's taking this as bad as you say, I'd like to at least give her a little hope…let her know I have an idea."

"So what are you doing standing here?" Perry asked, making a good attempt at sounding his usual irritable self. "Get!" He waved his hand at the door. "Bring me back a story, and make it a damned good one."

Metropolis's resident superhero flashed his editor a blinding grin. "On it, Chief!" he said, and then he headed out to reclaim the life he'd thought he'd lost forever.

THE END

Luthor’s Revenge, Take 2

By Tank Wilson <tankw1@aol.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: December 2011

Summary: Lex is back — again — and determined to make his ex-fiancee and her annoying Boy Scout of a husband pay for everything they’ve done to him.

***

Lex Luthor winced in pain as he shifted his position in the wheelchair that had been his prison ever since his last encounter with Lois Lane and that infernal Boy Scout, Superman. He should be dead, and there were many days when Lex wished he had perished under the rubble of that underground subway station hideout.

But he hadn’t. A loyal underling, one he hadn’t ever paid much attention to, had found him and rescued him from the stony tomb. With his body wracked and broken, Lex had spent many agonizing months just getting healed to the point where he could sit up and feed himself. It had been more than two years and Lex was reasonably self-sufficient now, but he was forever consigned to spend his waking hours in a wheelchair. His legs had been crushed beyond any hope of repair. He would never walk again.

Someone was going to pay for the pain he’d gone through and the pain he continued to live with, and it was time to put into motion the method of that payment.

Lex adjusted the blond wig and smoothed the fake moustache before his appointment arrived. It had been years since Lex Luthor had been in any front page stories or his image plastered across newspapers, but it didn’t hurt to be a bit cautious. It was too early in the process to make a mistake now.

Just then there was a quiet knock on the door and a young woman poked her head through. “Mr. Thorul, your appointment is here.”

Lex nodded. “Thank you. Send him in.”

She pushed the door open and stepped aside to let a young man enter the office. He was moderately tall, around six foot or six one. He had dark hair that looked as if it hadn’t seen a regular barber in a while. He was a handsome man, but currently presented a somewhat scruffy appearance. Lex had done the research, and this fellow would be perfect.

“Come, sit down, Mr. … ?”

“Carstairs, Barry Carstairs, Mr. Thorul.” The young man nodded meekly and sat down.

“I understand that you used to be a Superman impersonator.”

“Yes, sir. I was the best, if I do say so myself.”

“So, what happened, Barry?” Lex waved in his direction, indicating the young man’s current appearance.

Barry frowned. “Things were great for that first year after Superman went public. I had more offers than I could handle. The money came flowing in. Everyone wanted Superman at their event, whether it was a big public gala or just a very special private affair. There was even talk of a feature motion picture. They couldn’t be enough of me — er — him.”

“But?”

“But after a while things began to cool down. Everyone was used to seeing the Man of Steel flying around. The offers tailed off. He just wasn’t that special anymore.”

Lex nodded in what he assumed looked like an understanding manner. “I see. The old familiarity thing again.”

Barry shrugged. “I guess. The last Superman gig I did was over six months ago, and that was for a little girl’s tenth birthday. I didn’t have my old costume anymore, so I had to use a cheap Halloween style one. It was actually pretty embarrassing.”

“I see. So, Barry, what are you doing now for employment?”

“Up until about two weeks ago I was employed at Fred’s Garage. I’m pretty handy with tools, and he needed the extra help.”

Lex folded his hands on the small desk he sat behind. “What happened two weeks ago?”

The young man shrugged again. “I don’t really know. One day we’re busy as all get out, the next Fred calls me in and says that he doesn’t need me anymore and that I’m being let go.”

“Ah, the continued unpredictability of business.” Lex had to hide his smile behind his hand. “I suppose it’s been pretty hard on your family.”

“I have no close relatives. My parents both died years ago, and any other family is in California. I haven’t had any contact with them for years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Family can be important in times of struggle. What about a girlfriend?”

Barry’s snort of laughter was hardly amusing. “No one for quite a while now.”

“Really? I’d think a big, handsome lad like you would have to beat the girls off with a stick.”

“That was true when things were going good. When I had the money and a little bit of celebrity I had all the women I could handle. But once a guy falls on a little tough luck, suddenly, as far as they’re concerned, you’ve ceased to exist.”

“I’m afraid I understand where you’re coming from, Barry, only too well, but I think I have a proposition that will help us both out. You need a job, and I just happen to have a need for a Superman impersonator. But not just any stand-in; I need the best.”

“That would be me.” Lex could see a little arrogance slip back into Barry’s demeanor. “So, what are we talking about here? I don’t have a costume anymore.”

“Not to worry. I’ll provide the costume as well as professional hair and make-up people to get you back to the proper look.” Lex saw that he had the young man hooked. “Now I can’t provide you with a steady income, but what would you say to five thousand dollars for a couple of days’ work?”

“I’d say, ‘Where do I sign up?’” Suddenly Barry got a bit of a wary look on his face. “This doesn’t involve anything illegal, does it? Even for that money I won’t do anything crooked.”

Lex chuckled. “No, nothing illegal. I just have a … short film project in mind. One that needs to star the Man of Steel, and that’s were you come in. Still interested?”

Barry nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah I am. The money will help pay a few bills until I can find another job.” He rose and shook Lex’s hand. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Barry. Make sure you leave your contact information with my receptionist when you leave. We’ll be in touch within a couple of days.”

Once Barry closed the door behind him, Lex picked up the phone on the desk. He pushed a single button. When someone picked up on the other end, he didn’t wait for a response. “It’s time to make the crucial acquisition. Put the plan into motion.”

Lex leaned back, a large smile growing on his face. He glanced down at the desktop as if looking for the humidor that used to always grace his office desk. There wasn’t one there. He really would have liked to smoke an expensive Cuban just then, but he wasn’t quite back to that kind of reality. Still, he had a lot to look forward to. The fun was just about to start.

***

Lois woke up to the feeling that something was wrong. She reached over and felt the emptiness in the other side of the bed. The sheets on Clark’s side of their bed were cold. He hadn’t come home at all last night. She frowned as she rolled over and sat up, knowing that she’d have to get going if she was going to make it to work on time. It didn’t look like there was going to be any quick trip to the Planet via the Superman Express this morning.

You’d think that she’d be used to it by now. It’s not like they were still newlyweds or anything. She couldn’t begin to count the number of times that she’d woken up alone, but it still made her crabby. She missed the way he would wake her up.

Of course, even though she’d had to wake up alone many times with Superman having been needed in the middle of the night, it was unusual for her to have to go to bed alone and wake up alone. She wondered what could be keeping Clark so long.

She threw on her robe and quickly moved down the stairs to the living room. Grabbing the remote, she turned on the television and flipped to LNN news. She watched it for several minutes trying to find something that might be occupying Superman’s time. She couldn’t think of anything less than a major disaster that would keep Clark all night like this. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She was beginning to worry.

There still hadn’t been any word on where Clark was an hour later when Lois arrived at the Planet. She quickly booted up her computer, hoping that maybe he had emailed her with some message telling her what he was up to, but her mailbox yielded only the typical clutter and spam that she usually had to deal with every morning. Her frown deepened and her anxiety level rose.

“Lois, where’s Clark?”

Lois looked up from her screen to see her Editor-in-Chief standing next to her desk. Perry had a sour look on his face. Great, he’d probably just come back from fighting with the suits upstairs, and that always put him in a bad mood. What was she supposed to say?

“I … I don’t know, Chief.”

His eyebrows rose. “You don’t know? Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you two living together?”

She rolled her eyes at Perry’s sarcasm. “Yes, we’re living together. And yes, we’re still happily married.” Her worried frown broke through. “It’s just that Superman contacted Clark last night about some bank robbery or something. Clark went out to meet with him, but he hasn’t come home yet. I’ve checked the newscasts, but haven’t heard anything about what Superman might have been doing last night. There hasn’t been a word on him.”

Perry’s brow furrowed in a concerned frown of his own. He reached down and gave Lois’ shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I wouldn’t get too worried just yet. Clark’s a big boy and can take care of himself. There are any number of reasons why he’d be late coming back home.” Perry plastered a fake smile on his face. “Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came off that elevator anytime now with a big story that will scoop everyone.”

Lois realized that her boss was just trying to make her feel better. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” He patted her shoulder. “Until he does, why don’t you get together what you’ve got on that Melville Construction story you’re working on and bring it into my office? Maybe a fresh perspective will help you find the angle you need.”

“Sure.” Lois knew that he was just trying to take her mind off Clark. There was nothing going on with the Melville story because there was nothing there. It was small time graft that wouldn’t even rate more than a page three filler.

Lois spent the next three hours in meaningless tasks. Her “brainstorming” session with Perry had been exactly what she had assumed it was going to be — pointless. There just wasn’t enough going on with it to make it anything more than a filler piece. Finally Perry told her to write it up and they’d find some place to put it in the Metro Section.

Lois had it finished and sent to Perry before lunch. She had taken a walk during her lunch hour hoping the exercise would help her keep her mind off wondering where Clark was. Normally she would spend the time window shopping. Nothing could take her mind off her worry.

When she got back to the Planet she noticed a small package on her desk. A brief flare of hope surged through her. Maybe it was from Clark. When she picked it up it just confused her more. It was a small box, plainly wrapped, with no tag or card. The only way she knew that the package was meant for her was that her name was scrawled in pencil on the plain wrapping.

“Jimmy?” He came over to her. “Did you see who left this on my desk?”

Jimmy shrugged and shook his head. “No. I didn’t see anyone.”

Frowning, Lois tore off the wrapping. The box was as plain as the wrapping had been. She pulled the cover off the box, and a gasp escaped from her lips. Inside the box was a pair of glasses. The lenses had been smashed, but she recognized them anyway. They were Clark’s glasses.

She fell into her chair and stared at the spectacles. The nagging worry that she’d been feeling all day blossomed into a full blown fear. A few tears began to spill from the corners of her eyes. Where was Clark? What had happened? Was he hurt? She wouldn’t allow herself to think of the alternative. She chewed on her lower lip as she frantically tried to figure out what to do.

Jimmy stepped up behind her. “What’d you get, Lois?” She didn’t answer, but he could see the tears starting to fall and the object in the small box that she held in her shaking hands. “Omigod, are those … Clark’s?” She just nodded. “Chief!”

Jimmy’s cry brought the esteemed editor out of his office. “What in Sam Hill is going on here?” He strode down the ramp toward them. “Jimmy, what are you hollerin’ about?” He suddenly noticed the state Lois was in. “Lois? What is it? What do you have there?”

She turned her head to look at him, holding the small box out as she did so. “These are Clark’s glasses.”

Perry stared at the broken spectacles for a moment and then put his hand on Lois’ shoulder. “Are you sure of that, honey? They could just look like Clark’s.”

“Then why send them to me … like this?” She tried to sniff back some tears. “Someone is sending me a message.”

“Are you sure, Lois? It could just be a prank.”

Lois glared at Perry. “Clark has been gone since yesterday. He didn’t come home last night, and I haven’t heard from him. Nobody knew that except me.” She set the box down on her desk. “I come back from lunch to find this box mysteriously sitting on my desk. There is no delivery boy waiting for a tip, no card, no note, nothing. Just the broken glasses of my husband. What am I supposed to think?”

Perry frowned. “Jimmy, call Inspector Henderson.”

Jimmy was just about to pick up the phone on the next desk when a shout came from across the room. “Chief, there’s a call for you on line one. The guy says it’s important.”

Muttering a few soft curses under his breath, Perry grabbed the phone Jimmy was standing by and punched the appropriate button. “White.”

He didn’t say anything. He just listened for a few seconds, his expression getting darker, and then he hung up. “That was a friend of mine over at LNN. He said they received a tape earlier that they are going to show in a couple of minutes. He wasn’t sure what was on it, but the producers over there are pretty spooked. He says they’re going to run it anyway.” Perry stepped over to the large television screen that hung from the ceiling of the newsroom and turned it on. It was always tuned to LNN.

The screen came to life just in time for everyone to see a middle-aged man come into camera behind the normal anchorwoman and whisper something in her ear. She seemed confused by what he said but simply nodded, got up, and left her desk. The man sat down in the chair and, after getting direction as to which camera to look at, stared straight ahead. His expression was grim.

“My name is Richard Daimler, and I’m a producer here at LNN. Approximately thirty minutes ago we came into possession of the tape which you are about to see. While we cannot vouch for its authenticity, we felt that the public had a right to see it, and decide for themselves. We have contacted the police, and immediately after airing this tape we will be co-operating with them in every way we can.” He paused to take a deep breath, his expression getting grimmer. “I must warn everyone of the graphic nature of the contents of this tape and strongly advise the young and those with weak hearts to turn away.”

Lois had a sick feeling in her stomach as the scene shifted from Daimler to a static-filled screen. The static stopped to reveal a scenario that instantly filled her with dread. A man in a wheelchair filled the screen, facing the camera. She recognized him immediately.

“Metropolis, I bid you greetings. I have been out of circulation for a while, so for those of you who don’t remember me, allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Lex Luthor.”

“Doesn’t that man ever stay dead?” Perry growled.

Lois could feel the bile rising in her throat. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not after all this time. Lex couldn’t have come back into her life. It just wasn’t possible. She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of the broken glasses still sitting there. It felt like a huge hand was squeezing her heart. It couldn’t be. Please, don’t let Lex have Clark. The image on the screen continued talking.

“As you can see, I’m not quite the same man I used to be. I am now, literally, a broken man. The condition I find myself in is a direct result of my last encounter with two specific individuals. One was my own former fiancée, Lois Lane, and the other was that ever annoying do-gooder, Superman.” His smile for the camera held no humor, no warmth. “Now, as we all know, I’m no saint. Never have been. But what kind of hero allows a man to be buried under a fall of brick and stone and then leaves him for dead? Nobody deserves that sort of fate, but that’s what your precious Superman and Lois Lane did to me.”

The camera panned back, revealing a scene out of one of Lois’ nightmares. Her hands flew to her mouth as a fear-filled sob caught in her throat.

“No.” It was all she could articulate as she fought to breathe.

Superman was on his knees, being held upright but some nondescript man that Lois had never scene before. Crisscrossing his chest were a pair of chains which appeared to be green. Lois could only think of one thing — kryptonite.

The hero seemed barely conscious. His eyes were closed and perspiration beaded up on his forehead. If she hadn’t known what was actually affecting him, she’d have thought he was drugged. But she knew that wasn’t the case. It was worse.

Luthor continued. “I’m sure all of you recognize my guest. Oh, and Lois—” he grinned evilly “—I hope you received that little package I sent.” Her hands were clenched so hard that her knuckles were turning white. Lex pointed at the chains. “I know what many of you are thinking. How is our vaunted hero, Superman, being held by mere chains? The answer is quite simple. These particular chains are coated with kryptonite. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the substance, in its natural state it is a crystal form of Superman’s old home planet. Somehow these crystals are radioactive. But don’t fear for me and my assistant. Kryptonite has little or no effect on humans. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for natives of the planet Krypton. If exposed long enough, the kryptonite can and will kill the Man of Steel.”

By now, everyone in the newsroom was clustered around the large television screen. There were muted whispers and mutterings of shock and disgust. Lois had one hand knotted into Perry’s shirt sleeve. It was as if she needed his support to keep standing. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Lex wheeled himself over next to the slumping hero. “Kryptonite has one other added benefit.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim, sharp letter opener. He used it to trace an angry line across Superman’s cheek. A thin trail of blood seeped from the wound. “Long before Superman succumbs to the effects of the kryptonite, it renders him powerless. No more ‘super’ man. He’s no more powerful than you or I. No more demigod flying above the clouds looking down on mere mortals like you and me.”

Perry had placed his arm around Lois. Her legs were like rubber as she watched her most hated enemy toy with her helpless husband. She could barely see the screen through her tears, and all she could do was hang onto Perry and keep reciting no, no, no, over and over again. Her mind kept screaming at her to turn away. Not to watch what she knew was going to happen. But she couldn’t turn away.

“Now, I thought about how this was all going to play out. I’ve had years to think about how I was going to get my revenge. I considered the melodramatic. I could’ve erected my own gallows and enjoyed watching Superman swing from the end of a thick knotted rope. Or I could have brought back the French Revolution and had a guillotine built. It might have been fun seeing the Man of Steel’s head rolling across the concrete floor.” He paused and gave the camera a smile any predator would’ve been proud of. “Instead I decided on keeping it simple and foolproof.”

Lex pulled a large caliber handgun from inside his jacket. Lois felt her breath leave her body. Her heart pounded hard against her breast. She thought she was going to have a heart attack — and part of her would have welcomed it.

“Vengeance is mine.” Lex placed the pistol to Superman’s temple.

A scream ripped through the stillness of the newsroom, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the horrific boom of the handgun. Lois fell to her knees, still clutching Perry’s shirt. Her throat felt inexplicably raw as fresh sobs wracked her body. Perry knelt to the floor and put his arms around her. He crushed her to his chest as her unquenchable tears soaked the front of his shirt. He held her until the hyperventilating caused by her crying finally brought about the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.

***

Luthor wheeled himself into the small storeroom located in the far corner of his current hideout. The room was bare except for a lone prisoner chained against the far wall. Luthor approached, a wide smile upon his face.

“Well, Clark, old man, your execution is the hit of the airwaves. I dare say it’s virtually the only thing that LNN has been running since the tape was delivered to them this afternoon. It’s caused quite a stir among the populace. I think my reputation has received quite a boost.”

Clark raised his head and tried to focus on his tormentor. “Why? Why kill that poor man instead of me?”

Lex chuckled. “Oh, don’t be in such a hurry to die, Clark. I can call you Clark, can’t I? I would think after all we’ve been through together that we’d be on a first name basis.” Lex reached out and slapped Clark across the face as he looked like he was drifting off. “Don’t pass out on me yet, hero. Today was just the beginning of a much bigger plan. Don’t believe that my vengeance is going to be that easy on you … or Lois.”

Clark, with great effort, lifted his arms, allowing the kryptonite-coated chains to hang loosely from the cuffs at his wrists. “I don’t think you’ll have too much say in when I finally die.”

Lex snorted in contempt. “Oh, don’t wimp out on me now, Superman. I’ve had enough research done on the properties of kryptonite to have a pretty good idea of how long you’ll be able to survive. I figure you’ll last at least a couple of more days, which should fit into my plans nicely.”

Clark shook his head slowly. “Again, why? Why drag it out?”

“Because this isn’t just about you, Clarkie boy. Lois rejected me at the altar, and again, she escaped with you when the two of you left me for dead. I cannot let such actions go unpunished. She must suffer also.” His smile grew wider and colder. “And she has started to. My sources at the Daily Planet have informed me that the indomitable Ms. Lois Lane fell to her knees and sobbed like a little girl after witnessing your execution.”

Clark glared at Luthor. “She’s my wife, what would you expect her to do?” The words were forced out from his clenched jaw.

Lex returned the glare. “Exactly that.” He spun his chair and faced away from Clark. “You know, I think I’ll let Lois stew for a couple of days. Let her really embrace her grief. Then I’ll have her brought here. She’ll find out that her beloved husband is still alive, which will give her a burst of hope. Then I’ll crush that tiny spark by showing her how hopeless the situation is for you and her. Her despair will come crashing back once again.”

Lex grabbed the wheels of his chair and savagely spun it back to face Clark. “Then I will kill her right in front of you.”

His laughter echoed off the hard, bare walls as he turned once again and headed for the single door in the small room. Clark’s head hung down as tears splashed to the floor.

***

Lois sat at her kitchen table in the dark. She hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights when she’d gotten home from her most recent useless day at the Planet. The last two days had been pretty much the same. She’d sit at her desk for a while, staring at the blank screen. Then she’d answer whatever questions Henderson would have for her. She’d return to staring at her screen for a time more until she would have to get up and run to the restroom to throw up when the memories of Clark’s murder became too intense to ignore any longer.

She would come out of the restroom only to be confronted by a worried Perry White. Not being able to deal with his pity, she would mumble that she wasn’t feeling well and go home where she would spend the rest of the day either crying or sitting in the dark waiting for the crying to start again.

But it was time for the crying to stop. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time wallowing in her grief. She couldn’t deny the pain; she didn’t want to. It would never go away; it would always be a part of her life going forward. A life that was now bereft of the best part of it. She would never forget Clark, would never stop loving him. His memory would stay with her until the end of her days.

But she needed to pull it together. Clark needed avenging, and for that to happen, Mad Dog Lane would need to come back. If she was going to make Luthor pay for the evil that he’d done to her, and to the world, she would need to focus on that task, and that task only.

She had spoken to Martha and Jonathan again yesterday, and they had all agreed that, for the time being, they should do nothing. The Kents would stay in Kansas for now. The problem was, the world had seen Superman being foully murdered by Lex Luthor, but only a very few people knew that Clark Kent had also lost his life that day. Officially, Clark was still only missing.

Henderson had given Lois the typical lip service about keeping a positive attitude and hoping that they would be able to find Clark unharmed. But given the circumstantial evidence — the fact that Lois had told everyone that Clark had gone out with Superman and the broken glasses she had received — she knew that Henderson assumed that Clark had been killed also.

But where was the body? Why hadn’t Clark’s body been found? Why was Lex keeping it? She would have thought that he’d want the extra notoriety from the public display of his handiwork. It was one thing for the people to be shocked and dismayed by a horrific scenario seen on television, but it would be quite another for him to be able to revel in watching the grieving throngs pass by the body at a public memorial.

He had something else up his sleeve, and knowing Lex the way she did, there was no doubt that it would involve her in some manner.

She got up off her chair and searched out her purse. Grabbing it from its resting spot on the table, she headed for the front door. She needed to see Henderson … tonight.

***

The silent man pushed Lois ahead of him as they entered the abandoned warehouse down near Hobbs Bay. The place was old, and the area had been neglected for many years. She doubted that there were any actual legitimate businesses within a several block radius.

She had spent most of the morning walking around the downtown area near the Daily Planet until the stereotypical dark sedan had pulled up beside her and a gruff voice had ordered her to get in. She would have gotten in the car even if there hadn’t been a gun gesturing her to do so. She had been waiting for them all morning. She had almost been ready to give up on them.

But just before noon they had come for her, and now, if her assumptions had been correct, she was where she wanted to be. She was at Lex Luthor’s hideout.

She was ushered into a small room, probably some sort of storeroom. There was nothing currently in it except for a single substantial metal chair. The silent man indicated that she should sit down. She did.

She didn’t fight the ropes that were tied around her waist, securing her to the chair, nor did she object to the zip ties used to secure her wrists to the unpadded arms. If Clark was ever going to have justice, she needed answers, and to get those answers she needed to see Luthor himself. It was still his game … for now.

The silent man left the room. She sat there by herself for several minutes. She allowed her rage to focus her will. Her grief was pushed aside to allow her anger for the man she hated most in the world to prepare her for her confrontation. He would not find her a weepy, broken woman who had lost her world, even though that’s what she had been for the last two days. She had to steel her resolve if she was to get justice for what had been done to her and the world and grant Clark his peace.

So it was with hate burning in her soul that Lois confronted Lex Luthor when he finally deigned to make his entrance.

The door was pushed open and Lex wheeled himself into the room. “Why, Lois, it’s so nice to see you again. You’re looking well. As well as can be expected, I guess. I’ve missed you.”

“Give me a gun. I guarantee I won’t miss you … several times.”

Lex chuckled. “Still the feisty one, I see. Is that any way to talk to your former fiancé?”

“Why can’t you stay dead?”

With a violent shove against his hand rails, Lex rolled quickly up next to the chair Lois was sitting in. He leaned in close. His voice was a menacing whisper. “No, I’m not dead. I survived in spite of your and that muscle bound consort of yours’ efforts.”

“Our efforts? It was your doing that brought the roof of that old tunnel down on us.”

“Yes,” he hissed. “And you and the cape blithely sped away, leaving me to die.”

“You were buried under tons of stone and concrete. There was no way you could have survived.”

“Really? Well, it looks like you were wrong again, Lois.” Lex backed his chair a few feet away. “You could say that fortune smiled on me that day because, by chance, my head lay between a couple of larger stones which protected it from any direct impact. So when my loyal retainer showed up to pull me out, I was still alive. Though not without serious injury, as you see.” He waved at his chair.

Lois held onto her anger. She felt no pity for the man or his condition. This was the man who had destroyed her happiness. The only feelings she had for him were disgust and hatred. “You should have stayed dead. There is nothing left for you. Your empire is gone. The carefully crafted facade of respectability that you had constructed was destroyed, and everyone knows you for who you really are. All that power that was once at your fingertips is no more. There is no more reason for you to exist.”

A cold smile turned up the corners of his lips. “There is one reason, Lois. It was the one thing that was uppermost in my thoughts every day during my long and painful rehabilitation. It kept me fighting to stay alive. It kept me pushing until I was as well as I could be. It drove me; it became my whole purpose for being.” Lex’s eyes burned with an intensity that showed his fragile grip on sanity. “Do you know what that was, Lois?”

“I can guess.”

“Of course you can. It was my need for revenge that kept me going. The revenge that I was going to have on you and that muscle headed partner of yours.” His smile turned barracuda-like. “And now I am going to have it.” Lex leaned his head toward the door. “Could you please bring in our other guest?”

Lois gasped as the silent man dragged a limp form into the room and dumped him a few feet in front of her. Chains, which glowed a sickly green in color, were wrapped around his body.

“Clark!”

A part of her mind admonished her for crying out Clark’s name when he was dressed in the spandex suit. Another part told her that it didn’t matter since Lex had known Clark’s dual identity prior to the cave-in which they had both thought had finished Luthor once and for all. Neither of those small parts of her mind was paid any attention to. Lois’ foremost thoughts were for the obvious pain and suffering her husband was experiencing.

He was barely conscious. He didn’t have the strength to stand. He was on his knees, teetering on the edge of falling over. It was obvious from the tautness of his facial muscles that he was in a great deal of pain. Tears sprang to Lois’ eyes. His agony sliced through her like a cold knife blade.

She turned back toward Luthor. Her eyes blazed. If she’d been the one blessed with heat vision at that moment, the intensity of her gaze would have turned her tears to steam and reduced Luthor to a cinder in an instant. More’s the pity.

“I don’t understand.” Her words came out almost as a growl. “Why the fake production? Who was the poor fool you sacrificed in your twisted madness?”

Lex made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “He was a nobody, a former celebrity impersonator. But as to the why, I would think that would have been obvious, my dear. It was part of my revenge.”

“You needed revenge against a Superman impersonator?”

Luthor gave her the kind of look a teacher would give a particularly difficult student. “Now you’re just being contrary. But if you want me to explain it to you, I will.”

“Lois?”

The sound was so soft she nearly didn’t hear it. She quickly turned her head toward Clark. His breathing was labored, and the whites of his eyes were definitely turning green. Lois knew that he wouldn’t survive much longer under these conditions. Fresh tears began to fall.

“Lois, you have to get out of here.”

Luthor’s laughter cut through the emotion in the room like a winter’s blast. “I’m afraid it’s a little late for that.”

“Don’t worry, Clark, we’re going to get out of this.”

“Hah! Always the defiant one, aren’t you, Lois? If I may be so bold as to ask, just how do you plan on getting out?”

Lois gritted her teeth. “You first; why am I here?”

Lex’s grin sent a shiver up her spine. “Simple, my dear; it’s all part of the plan. In order for my revenge to be truly fulfilled I had to not only end your miserable lives, but punish each of you as well. What better way to punish a loving couple, than to force each of them to watch helplessly as the other perishes.”

“But Clark isn’t dead. I saw a fiction perpetrated in a video.”

“Ah, but you didn’t know that at the time, did you? I had my man there at the Daily Planet when you viewed the tape on LNN. He even took a home movie of your reaction for me to watch at my leisure. It was quite entertaining. I confess that I watch it before going to bed every night.”

“You sick, twisted … ”

“I am what you made me. Never forget that, Lois.”

“But your revenge has been blunted now that I know that it wasn’t Clark who was killed.”

“Is it? I think not. You’re not a fool, Lois. Look at him. Look at your hero. You know as well as I do that he can’t last much longer. Superman will be dead before the day is out, and so will your darling husband, Clark Kent.” Luthor spun his wheelchair around. “But I think he will live long enough to see his beloved die by my hand.”

Lois glared at her tormentor. “So what now, you’re going to shoot me in the head while tied to a chair?”

“Oh, nothing so easy.” Luthor actually licked his lips in anticipation. “You deserve an extra measure of punishment, my dear. I would have made you my wife, but you rejected me.” Lex held out his hand, and the silent man, who Lois hadn’t noticed come in, handed him a baseball bat. “I’m going to take extreme pleasure in beating you to death in front of that pathetic creature you married.” Lex began to roll toward Lois.

Lois began to laugh, which caused Lex to stop and stare at her as if she’d lost her mind. Shaking her head, Lois gradually regained control of herself.

“How can anyone so stupid ever have been able to gain the position and power that you held? You must have had some pretty competent lieutenants because you obviously don’t have the smarts to have done it yourself.”

Lex narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “What are you playing at, Lois?”

“Overconfident to the end, aren’t you Lex? Why do you think that Clark and I were always able to defeat you, even when you had all the cards stacked in your favor … like now?” Luthor just frowned at her. “It’s your arrogance. You are so smug from your own arrogance that you can’t see the failings of your plans.”

Luthor’s predator smile returned. “Suppose you enlighten me as to the failings of my present plan … before I beat you to death.”

Lois glanced over at Clark. He was watching her, a slight smile on his face. “See, Clark knows what I’m talking about.” She turned her attention back to Lex. “Weren’t you the least bit surprised at my reaction to seeing your man bring Clark into the room?”

Lex seemed confused. “What do you mean? You were obviously distraught over his suffering.”

“Yes, clearly, I was terribly distressed and upset to see him in such pain. But I wasn’t surprised to see him alive. I expected it. Why else do you think I allowed your man to take me so easily?”

“Sorry, Lois, I saw the tapes of your reaction. You thought that your husband had been killed.”

Lois shrugged. At least as well as she could, being tied to the chair. “I admit it took me a couple of days until I figured it out. I allowed my grief to shut down my brain and just let my loss control my emotional state. But I knew that I’d have to snap out of it if I were to bring you to justice for what you’d done. It was then that I began to put it together.”

“Oh, please continue. I’m riveted by your narrative.”

Lois rolled her eyes. “First, why no body? Why hadn’t you dumped the body someplace where it would be found and your victory over your arch-nemesis could be displayed for all to see? I could just imagine how much delight you’d get out of watching thousands of mourners filing by their fallen hero, a testament to your victory.”

Lex nodded. “That would have been enjoyable, yes.”

“But you couldn’t risk a close examination of the body, could you?” Lois paused, watching Luthor as she did. He merely inclined his head, acknowledging her point. “But that wasn’t the only thing. You’re using kryptonite chains to hold Clark, but I seriously doubt that you’d be able to come up with two sets of such chains. Nor would you risk taking them off Clark, even for just the short time you needed for your little movie.”

Lex snorted his disbelief. “Are you going to tell me that you knew the chains I used on what’s-his-name were actually just painted green and not the real thing? Come on, Lois, you may be good, but you’re not that good.”

“Really,” was her frosty reply. “Okay, I’ll admit that I was too worried for Clark at first to pay any close attention to that. I assumed, like everyone else, that the chains were coated with kryptonite because they had rendered Superman powerless. But once I began to suspect something wasn’t quite right with the whole scenario, I forced myself to watch the video again … and again.”

“I’ll bet that was fun.”

Lois ignored Lex’s crack. “You forgot that I have had experience with kryptonite before. I’ve had the misfortune to have been exposed to it several times. I’ve seen it, I’ve handled it, and I know what it looks like. After reviewing your little video, those chains just looked wrong to me. That might not have been enough in itself to convince me of your hoax, but it was more ammunition for my suspicions. So I watched the video again.”

“Bully for you.”

“It was hard to watch your casual murder of an innocent actor over and over again, but the more I watched, the more I realized that the poor man didn’t look like Clark usually does when exposed to kryptonite. He looked drugged. Taken individually, or if I hadn’t been determined to bring you to justice, I might not have come to the conclusion that Clark was still alive.”

Lex rolled up a little closer to Lois. “Well, congratulations, Lois, you uncovered my little charade. I guess you really are the best investigative reporter around. Unfortunately, this is going to be your last investigation. You’re still here, alone, tied to a chair. Your beloved husband is still going to die, and I’m still going to beat you to death with this Louisville Slugger. So, I guess I still win.”

A smile slowly spread across Lois’ face. “Who said I came alone?”

Lex slammed the bat against the side of his chair. “What in the devil’s name are you playing at now, Lane!”

“Once again you’re so in love with your imagined brilliance that it doesn’t occur to you that things might not just follow according to your plan.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I expected you to kidnap me. In fact, I nearly walked the heels off my shoes waiting for you to make your move. But I never planned to step meekly into your clutches. I wasn’t the distraught, grieving zombie you expected me to be. Last night I paid a visit to our esteemed Metropolis Police Department and had an interesting conversation with Inspector Henderson. We decided that it might be a good idea if I wore a tracer — a small, inconspicuous tracking device taped to the small of my back that will lead Metropolis’ finest right to your doorstep. You were so confident in your own expectations that it never even occurred to you to have me searched when I arrived. After all, I would just be the grieving widow, not yet recovered from my horrific loss.”

Lex screamed incoherently in his rage as he propelled himself toward Lois. “I’ll kill you!”

He viciously swung the bat at Lois’ head. She leaned away as best she could while still being tied to the heavy metal chair. The bat missed her skull but managed to just clip the end of her nose. Lois yelped in pain as she felt the cartilage snap. Blood began to trickle from her nose.

“Put the bat down, Lex.” Henderson stepped into the room.

An animalistic growl escaped from Luthor’s lips as he hurled the bat toward the Inspector. Henderson flung his arm up to protect himself. The bat rebounded off his forearm, causing him to have to step back.

“I will have my vengeance!” Lex pulled a gun from his pocket and aimed it at Lois.

“Lex, no!” Clark’s anguished cry was ripped from his throat.

A loud boom reverberated through the small room. Lex was thrown from his chair. Lois’ shocked gaze shifted from Lex’s prone form to that of Inspector Henderson striding over toward the body. A curl of smoke still drifted from the barrel of his gun.

Henderson reached down and felt Luthor’s neck for a pulse.

“Is he dead?” Henderson nodded. Lois frowned. “Maybe he’ll stay dead this time.”

***

Lois fingered the large white Band-Aid on her nose as she looked at herself in the mirror. The door to the bathroom was open. “Clark, will you still love me when I look like the Wicked Witch of the West with my bent and crooked nose?”

Clark entered the room from the adjoining bedroom. He came up behind her, placed his arms around her shoulders, and laid his chin on the top of her head. He looked at her reflection. “Lo-is, the doctor said it was a clean break and should heal straight without any noticeable bump.”

She ignored him. “Maybe I should sue Henderson.”

“Henderson?”

She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “It’s his fault for being late.”

“It wasn’t his fault that Luthor’s man resisted so forcefully that it took a few minutes for them to subdue him.” Clark shrugged. “There were a lot of small rooms he had to check out before he found the right one.”

Lois frowned. “Why are you defending him? Any later and one or both of us might have died in that dismal place.”

“But we didn’t. We’re both safe and sound at home, in each other’s arms.” He gave her a squeeze for emphasis. “Only Lex died.”

Her look was pensive. “Yeah. Do you think we can count on him staying dead this time?”

He placed a quick kiss on her inviting lips. “Well, we saw the coroner take away the body, and by now they will have performed an autopsy. I don’t think Luthor will be coming back this time.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to … ”

She placed her finger over his lips. “Don’t say it!” She crushed her lips to his in order to ensure his silence. He lifted Lois up and held her close to his chest as he carried her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. With a smile that bespoke his love for her, he deposited her onto the bed. Her answering smile mirrored his.

The best friends, partners, and lovers had been through a terrible ordeal over that last few days, and they knew that they would have to take some time to talk it out. Their anguish and the fears they experienced would have to be brought to light before they could truly heal and eventually put the trauma behind them.

But not tonight. Tonight no words would be spoken. There would be no need. The only communication necessary would be expressed through their eyes … and their love.

Fin.

THE END

Late Night at the Daily Planet

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: July 2012

Summary: The Daily Planet’s Internet servers have connected with our world! Jimmy stumbles across some fanfiction about them. How will everyone react?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing from this. All Lois and Clark characters, plot points, and lines of dialogue belong to DC comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. I’m just having a bit of not-for-profit fun. I also don’t most of the fanfics mentioned in this story. Most of them are made up. Some actually do exist.

Author’s Note: This story was inspired by re-reading one of my favorite comedy stories on fanfiction.net. That story would be “At The Rivendell Internet Cafe,” by Fennelseed. The basic premise was that the Lord of the Rings characters hooked up to our world’s internet and proceeded to search their own names. It’s a really great piece, and I highly recommend that any LOTR fans read it.

Also note: Since this is a piece of pure fluffy comedy, I’m playing fast and loose with everything. And I do mean everything. This piece will also dance a fine line with the PG-13 rating, as the concept of nfics is brought up. But there is absolutely nothing graphic about this.

***

Clark Kent finished typing the last sentence of the article he was working on. It had been a fairly easy article to pound out — a routine drug bust down in Hobbs Bay the day before. He hadn’t even been there when the police had made the bust, neither as Clark nor as Superman. He’d taken Lois to a romantic dinner in Paris, at one of their favorite restaurants. But his friend, Bill Henderson, had given him all the details that afternoon when the station had released an official statement to the press, and the article had practically written itself.

He sent off the story to Perry, then stretched mightily in his chair. Glancing at Lois, he could tell that she was close to finishing her own work, but wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet. To give himself something to do, he closed out the window he’d been working in and clicked on his email. There wasn’t anything remotely interesting or pressing there; he could deal with the few new emails in the morning. Besides, no one was expecting a reply this late at night. Only a handful of employees were still in the building. Everyone else had left for home hours ago. He contented himself to deleting the spam, then closed out his email.

Opening his internet browser, Clark ‘s fingers tapped lightly, hesitantly on his keyboard. The paper had just switched to a much better internet provider that morning. The speed alone was enough to impress Clark. It could almost keep pace with him. He started to search things just for fun, reveling in the blazing speed of the search engine. He was just about to look for a recipe for the next day’s dinner when a voice cut through the unnatural stillness of the bullpen.

“Hey, CK, check it out!” Jimmy said, coming over to his desk. The man pointed at Clark’s computer. “You ever Google yourself?”

“I…what?” Clark asked, sputtering and choking on the sip of water he’d taken.

“Sounds dirty,” Lois said, sliding over to her husband’s desk to join them. She gave Clark a wicked look.

“A man has needs,” Perry said, poking out from his office. He shrugged. “It’s only natural.”

“Perry!” Clark said, going scarlet as his blush bloomed.

“Not that I’m prying,” Perry quickly amended, his hands up in a gesture of pacification. “What you do on your own time is none of my business.”

“Hmmm, I’d like if Clark would Google my Yahoo,” Cat Grant practically purred. She slunk over to join the rest, all crowded now around Clark’s workstation. She put her hands on Clark’s shoulders.

Lois slapped Cat’s hands away. “Get your claws out of my husband,” she snapped. “Or I’ll be sending you home to Arthur Chow with a couple of broken fingers.”

Cat shot Lois a scathing look. She opened her mouth to retort, but Jimmy spoke first.

“No, no,” Jimmy said, coming to Clark’s aid and shaking his head. “It’s a search engine. Like Yahoo. You use it to look up information,” he clarified, in response to Cat’s somewhat mystified look.

Clark sighed and turned his attention back to Jimmy. “No, can’t say that I have.”

“Really?” Jimmy asked in disbelief. “You never searched your own name to see what comes up?”

“No,” Clark replied, shaking his head. “Why would I want to do that?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Because it’s fun, CK. Here, let me show you.”

Jimmy reached over his friend, pulled up Google, and typed in Clark’s name. A second later, a multitude of information popped up on the screen. Clark turned green as he scanned the links. Lois put her arms possessively around his neck and looked over his shoulder. The blood drained from her face, leaving her stark white as she too read the links.

“Clark,” she said, sounding ill.

“I…” was all he could muster.

There, splashed across Clark’s browser, in every single link, were the damning words.

Clark Kent is Superman.

By now, Perry had sidled up to the desk as well, curiosity getting the better of him. He read the words on the page in silence, nodding to himself. He chuckled a little bit.

“Oh. My. God,” Jimmy said, his eyes wide and staring. They looked about ready to pop right out of his skull. “CK? Is this true?”

Clark felt ready to faint. Or vomit. Or maybe both. Possibly at the same time even.

“CK?” Jimmy asked again, now concerned. He turned to look at his friend. “CK?”

“So, wait a second,” Cat said, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You’re Superman?”

Clark felt trapped. What could he possibly say? All he could do was to weakly nod his head in affirmation.

“You’re Superman?” Cat repeated in a demanding tone. Then she shook her head. “I don’t get it. You can have any woman in the entire world. And you chose her?” she asked, jerking a thumb in Lois’ direction.

“Jealous?” Lois asked, giving Cat a look that could kill. She tightened her arms around Clark even further.

“Confused,” Cat retorted.

“Well, I knew it was bound to come out sooner or later,” Perry said, shrugging.

“Bound to come out? You knew?” Clark squeaked. “How?”

“Of course I did,” the editor chuckled. “I’m not the editor of the world’s greatest paper just because I can yodel, you know.”

Clark only swallowed hard, which was difficult now that his mouth and throat had gone completely dry.

“Oh man, this is so cool!” Jimmy said, slapping Clark on one shoulder. “My best friend is the most awesome guy on Earth! I mean, you were before, CK. But this is just…wow!”

“Uh…thanks,” Clark said, trying to formulate a complete thought. The gears of his mind seemed frozen in place.

“Hey,” Jimmy said, scrolling through the list of search results as something caught his eye. “Look at this!” He pointed to the screen, his finger just a scant centimeter from the monitor’s surface.

Clark looked at what his friend was referring to. “Fanfiction?” he asked, voicing the question to no one in particular.

Jimmy nodded. “Stories based on beloved characters in television, movies, books, games, what have you,” the photographer explained. When everyone gave him a strange look, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, might have read some Star Wars fanfics before.”

“But…that doesn’t make any sense,” Lois said, shaking her head. “We’re not fictional characters in a story. We’re flesh and blood people. And yet…there’s stories apparently written about us.”

“Maybe we hooked into an alternate dimension’s internet,” Clark sighed, surprised that his mind had lurched back into motion. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Clark, and he squirmed uneasily under their gazes. “Long story,” he said.

Lois reached over and grabbed Clark’s mouse. She guided the arrow on screen to the link for the Lois & Clark FanFic Archive. A moment later, the screen came up. A ticker on top boasted over 3,600 stories on the site. Lois clicked on the first story listed on the site, tapping her nails on the mouse button while it loaded. Everyone peered over Clark’s shoulder as they scanned the story.

“That never happened!” Clark protested, pointing to the story in question.

Jimmy shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“But, it’s a lie,” Clark pressed.

“It’s fiction, CK. It’s not meant to be real.”

“I know what fiction means,” Clark mumbled, just loudly enough for his friend to hear him.

Cat grabbed the mouse and clicked back to the main page, looking for a new story. Clark gently shooed her away.

“Hey!” Lois said, as Cat commandeered the mouse.

“Stop hovering,” Clark pleaded as he tried to get Cat to back up. “We have plenty of computers here. Go find your own, please.”

Cat and Jimmy sulked, but moved away. Perry hesitated for a minute, then acquiesced. Everyone found an empty desk of their own, switched on the computer there, and pulled up the website. For a long time, nothing could be heard except for the soft clicking of mouse buttons as they all perused the archive.

Lois frowned, then moved away to grab her half-empty coffee mug from her own desk. She took a sip, steadying herself, it seemed. Then she returned to Clark’s desk. Without a word, she seated herself in her husband’s lap. Clark’s free arm and hand snaked around her waist, holding her securely to him. But his face kept getting whiter and whiter as he clicked through different stories.

In the short span of time while Lois had gone to retrieve her coffee, he’d employed his super speed to peruse close to a hundred of the stories listed on the site. It appeared, from the submission dates, that the site had been gathering stories about Clark and his loved ones for years. And not a single one of them were true. Oh, some were based on the true adventures he’d lived through, but they often quickly diverted from fact into pure fiction.

Lois pointed at a story title. “Let’s see that one.”

Clark obliged, clicking the hyperlink. He laughed aloud when he read the author’s disclaimer. It stated that for the purposes of the story, Lois was not dating Lex Luthor because the idea was gross. Clark couldn’t agree more.

“I like this author already,” he commented with a chuckle.

“Hey! Lex was nice to me!” Lois protested. “Well…at least, before he decided to blow up the newspaper in order to manipulate me,” she added quickly. “And before I knew that he’d tried to kill you. Or had me cloned. Or tried to take advantage of my amnesia. Hmm…okay, objection withdrawn.”

Nearby, Jimmy was shaking his head as he scanned the story before him. “Geez! I’m paired with your sister in a lot of these stories,” he said, directing his voice towards Lois.

“I’m sure Lucy will be thrilled,” Lois replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Cat complained from her desk. “Here’s one where you and I are together,” she said, looking at Jimmy.

“You still owe me, from our bet,” Jimmy teased.

“We’re still distantly related,” Cat snapped back.

“It’s still not illegal,” he retorted.

“It’s still gross,” Cat replied.

Jimmy slumped his shoulders dejectedly and clicked on a new fanfic.

“Great shades of Elvis,” Perry complained as he commandeered Lois’ computer. “This person wrote about my death!”

“I see that one,” Lois replied. “That author seems to enjoy killing/hurting people in his -her? — stories. Must be some sicko.”

“Oh dear Lord!” Perry exclaimed as he clicked a new story. “I think I just found a worse one. A list of a hundred ways to kill Superman!”

“What!?” Clark said, his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah. Pretty creative ways if you ask me.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Clark said sarcastically. He clicked on a few new ones and shuddered. “Oh yeah? What about this Tank person?”

“What about it?” Cat asked.

“He…I’ll assume it’s a he…seems to have an obsession with my wife’s hair. He manages to give her a haircut in almost every story.”

Lois shuddered. “Creepy,” she said. Her eyes darted quickly over the screen before her. “Although, I do have to agree with the assessment he gives my neck. It is rather nice.” She smirked at Clark.

“And it’s all mine,” he said possessively.

Lois whacked him playfully on the arm and snickered. Clark growled lowly and kissed the neck in question. Lois sighed, momentarily in heaven. If it wasn’t for this fanfiction thing, she’d insist on being whisked away to their home to take advantage of Clark’s nuzzling in private.

“Uh, CK, you’re not gonna like this…” Jimmy said, his voice trailing off.

“I can hardly wait,” Clark replied.

“There’s a whole section on here about people finding out about…well…the Superman thing.”

Clark groaned. He’d noticed that quite a few stories involved Lois finding out his secret. He searched the archive until he found what Jimmy was looking at. Sure enough, there was a whole list of stories posted. Some centered around Lois discovering the secret. The rest had others discovering his dual identity. Most seemed to be people he was close to. Quite a few centered on Jimmy or Perry finding out. But others froze his blood in his veins.

“Why?” Clark wondered aloud, miserably. “Why can’t people leave well enough alone?”

“Because,” Lois said, giving him a reassuring peck on the cheek.

“That’s not an answer,” Clark replied, feeling himself growing slightly grumpy all of a sudden.

“Because it’s so ridiculous, the way a stupid pair of glasses and some lame excuses so thoroughly throw people off and hide the fact that you moonlight in tights.”

“They aren’t really tights, you know,” Clark countered. “Just Spandex pants.”

“Actually, it’s more of a unitard, isn’t it?” Lois smirked.

“Well, whatever,” Jimmy said. “I give you credit for having the…uh, guts to parade around in public like that. It’s not like the suit hides much. I certainly wouldn’t have the courage.”

“Clark,” Cat purred from her computer. “I never knew you and Mason got so close.”

“We didn’t,” Clark said, his stomach twisting into a knot. He still didn’t like to think about how relentlessly Mason Drake had chased after him, or of how he had been too late to save her from that car bomb. “She was interested and I really wasn’t.”

“Not according to some of these stories,” Perry commented. “Judas Priest, you’d think you were about to marry her in this one.”

“And here’s one where you had a baby with another woman, before Lois,” Jimmy said.

“Clark…” Lois said, mock warning in her voice.

“Lois, honey, you know I’d never do that.”

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you squirm a little sometimes.” Lois flashed him a wide grin.

Clark rolled his eyes.

“Well, this one has you getting pretty amorous after being exposed to some red Kryptonite,” Cat helpfully pointed out. “Too bad you went after Lois in it. Why is it always her?”

Clark grimaced and clicked on another story, then just as quickly exited it. “Well, that’s depressing,” he announced.

“What?”

He’d clicked out of it too quickly for Lois to see anything.

Clark sighed. “That one had you and our baby dying in childbirth.”

“That is depressing,” Lois said, frowning.

“Oh, it gets better. Apparently I survived for half a year without you, then killed myself.”

Lois shuddered. “Would you really do that?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Clark sighed. “Lo-is.”

She gave him a pleading look, but Clark tried to ignore it. He really didn’t want to wander down the paths of the hypothetical. He was dealing with enough stress at the moment. Lois, for her part, allowed him to have his way. Besides, she could always talk to him about it at home.

“Hey, CK. Check this one out. There’s a manual on here for dealing with Lois,” Jimmy said, trying to hide his immense amusement.

“A manual? What am I? A household appliance?” Lois complained. “I’m not really high maintenance. They know that, right?”

Clark tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh. “No, really, honey. You’re fine. Now that we’re married, that is.”

“Clark!”

“You’re treading dangerous waters, there, son,” Perry warned.

“Hey, anyone? What’s slash mean?” Cat suddenly asked, from where she’d taken over Walter’s desk.

“Slash?” Jimmy asked. “I don’t see any of that on here.” He sounded really confused.

“I went to a different site,” Cat offered.

She quickly rattled off the address. There was silence for a moment as they all typed it into their browsers. Jimmy laughed, tried to stifle it, failed, and choked on his own spit.

“Slash,” he said, catching his breath. “You know.”

“No, we don’t,” Clark said, his heart sinking.

“You know,” Jimmy tried again. “Two dudes paired up romantically. Or at least, sexually. I think it stems from Star Trek fics. Like Spock-slash-Bones.”

“Or in this case,” Perry said, clearing his throat. “Clark and Lex.”

Clark had been taking a sip from the bottle of water on his desk. He reflexively spit the drink out, thankfully not in Lois’ direction. He coughed and choked as the rest of the water whooshed down into his lungs. Lois reached around her husband’s back and thumped him, hard. Clark continued to cough.

“Luthor?” he squeaked, after he regained his breath.

“And apparently enjoying it,” Perry said, nodding. “Clark, you know, don’t take this the wrong way, but, uh, I never took you as the dominate type. And I certainly can’t see Lex being at all submissive.”

“But…” Clark sputtered, looking for words. “He’s not…I’m not…he was a killer. He hated me. I despised him. These people…these writers, they do realize that, don’t they?”

“Of course they do,” Jimmy said, shrugging. “That’s what makes it appealing for some of these writers. The element of ‘what if?’…know what I mean?” Everyone turned to openly stare at him. “Okay, I might have written some fanfiction in my time,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “Never the slash stuff mind you.”

Clark looked at his monitor and typed in the address Cat had mentioned earlier, pulling it from memory. He hoped nfic stood for non-fiction. However, as he scanned a new story, it became quite obvious that was not the case. It was nothing short of very graphic, very adult material. He quickly backpedaled out of that story.

“Oh, Lois, here’s one about you and me,” Cat purred, teasing her. “I don’t know whether to be flattered that someone wrote about me, or offended that they paired me with you.”

“Quick, Clark, give me your garbage pail before I throw up,” Lois retorted with a snort.

Clark chuckled. He was embarrassed, but he clicked on a new link anyway, his curiosity awakened and taking control. His eyes popped open at what he read on the screen. And yet, he couldn’t stop the slow grin that unfurled on his face.

“Honey,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I never knew you were into that.” His voice was a whisper in his wife’s ear.

Lois smacked his chest, hard. “Keep it up and you’ll be in the doghouse for sure,” she warned him, though he could tell she was only half serious.

“Oooh, I just saw one about that,” Jimmy said, snapping his fingers and going back to the other window he had open. “Ah yes, here it is. Clark magically turned into a dog when we all thought he’d been shot and killed.” He paused. “Huh. Now that miraculous resurrection makes a ton more sense.” He shook his head.

“And here’s one where Lois makes him wear a collar,” Cat said, her eyes gleaming in amusement.

Clark felt himself wishing for invisibility. He tried to make himself as small as possible in his chair. Leave it to Cat to find some of the kinkier stuff. This was pay-back for teasing Lois, he thought.

“Never took you for a wild one,” Cat continued, shooting Lois and Clark both a glance. “Either of you. But I have to say, I approve.”

“For God’s sake, it’s fiction,” Lois said, squirming uncomfortably now. “There is no wearing of leather or chains or God only knows what else.”

“Pity,” Cat said, giving her a smug look. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” Perry said, roaring a laugh and slapping his thigh. “Here’s one about you and me. Oh boy, you’d do just about anything for a raise, huh?”

Jimmy paled. “Sorry Chief, I don’t need the extra cash that badly,” he quipped.

Perry continued to laugh. “Not according to this.”

Lois grabbed the mouse from Clark again and guided it to a new story. “Oh hey, one about you and Jimmy!” she announced to him.

Clark rolled his eyes and his cheeks reddened. He could feel the heat burning there in his embarrassment. Jimmy must have found the same story, and he shot Clark a look.

“Well, you know,” he teased. “You are a good looking guy, CK.”

“Sorry, but you just aren’t my type,” Clark said.

“Those luscious, dark locks of hair. That strong jaw line.”

“Ok, very funny,” Clark said.

“Those rich, chocolate eyes.”

“You two wanna get a room?” Perry teased. “I think the copy room is empty.”

“Don’t encourage him, Chief!” Clark admonished.

Perry only laughed even harder. Clark’s face burned as another heated blush overtook his features. Lois giggled at him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Aww, we’re just having fun,” she said, putting on a mock pout.

“I know,” Clark grumbled with a sigh. “It’s just…weird. All of this.” He gestured to his computer screen. “Don’t people have anything better to do with their lives than make up stories about us?”

“Of course they do,” Jimmy said, looking up from his screen and shrugging. “But, CK, no offense. Until you’ve tried it, you have no idea how addictive it gets.”

“I get what it’s like, to enjoy writing so much. That’s why I made it my profession. But to write about other people…”

“Uh, son, you know you do write about other people for a living?” Perry asked, drawing his words out longer than necessary. “The only difference is that you get paid to do it.”

Clark squirmed a little under his boss’ gaze. “Well, sure, but…I don’t…make up stuff about them.”

Perry raised an eyebrow, deliberately prodding Clark. Lois saw the look and giggled. Clark sighed.

“I give up. It’s late. I’m going home. Come on, Lois.”

“Those last few fics get you all hot and bothered?” Cat teased him.

“As a matter of fact, no,” Clark replied. “I’ve just had a long day, that’s all. I had the Mayor’s speech that I covered, Lois and I made some significant progress on the string of headless corpses showing up in major intersections around the city, plus I had three house fires, a car accident, two shootouts, and a cat stuck in a tree as Superman. I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”

“You want some company?” Cat said, licking her upper lip seductively. “There’s this one I found where you, Lois, and I…”

“Cat,” Clark said, cutting her off firmly but politely. “I really, really don’t want to know.”

“Suit yourself,” Cat grumbled.

Clark was about to stand and shut his computer down when the lights in the bullpen flickered and then went out. He stopped moving instantly, though he could see fairly well in the dark. In fact, the dark was little more than an annoyance to him.

“What in Sam Hill?” Perry asked, slowly standing. “A power outage?”

“I don’t think so, Chief,” Clark said, moving towards the large window of the bullpen. Looking out, he hummed thoughtfully. “Nothing else is dark. Must be something just with this building.”

“Oh, well, that’s just perfect,” Perry complained. “Because we don’t have anything important to do here.”

A moment later, the lights and power came back. The computers they had all been using beeped as they restarted themselves. Three minutes later, they had finished booting up. Jimmy was the first to delve back into the internet. Rapid clicking sounds emanated from his keyboard.

“Hey!” he cried. “It’s all gone!”

“Not your story notes, I hope,” Lois said sympathetically.

Jimmy shook his head. “I just typed in CK’s name again. Nothing. Just the boring stuff. His articles. His Kerths and Merriwethers. The usual. I even tried typing in those web addresses we were just on. It’s like they just…vanished.”

“Jimmy, don’t you think that’s a good thing?” Clark asked, seeing that the younger man was a little troubled.

Jimmy sighed. “I guess.”

Cat pouted. “I don’t know. I was kind of enjoying it.”

Lois rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you late for your flight to Tuscany with Arthur Chow?”

Cat flashed her a winning smile. “Um…no. Not when it’s a private plane, Lois.”

Lois rolled her eyes again. “All right. I’m with Clark on this one. I’m going home.”

“Boy, marriage really has changed you,” Cat said, muttering under her breath.

“What was that?” Lois snapped.

“I said, marriage really has changed you,” Cat repeated, louder this time.

Lois crossed her arms defensively. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“The Lois I left behind when the Planet blew up would be eyeball deep in research already, wanting to know exactly what just happened with the internet. But this Lois…this married and in love Lois…is going home?” Cat made a terrible face, as though she’d sniffed something with a pungently disgusting odor. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

Lois was stunned for a moment. “You’re right,” she conceded after a long pause. “I guess I have changed. Cat…oddly enough, it was good to see you again. Come on, Clark.”

Clark cleared his throat. “Um…” he stammered for a moment. “Can we all just…forget about what we saw tonight? Please?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Perry said.

“Me too, CK,” Jimmy swore.

Everyone’s attention pivoted to Cat.

“Okay,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I know nothing.”

“Thanks,” Clark said gratefully. “Goodnight, everyone.”

He helped Lois into her coat before slipping into his own. Lois took his arm, linking their arms intimately, though Clark could feel the extra possessiveness behind the touch tonight. Lois had been especially territorial ever since Cat had waltzed into the newsroom for a visit while she was in Metropolis. He didn’t mind it. If anything, it made him love her even more. Together, they went to the elevator bank, punched the button, and left the bullpen for the night.

***

Tempus chuckled to himself as he spied on the Daily Planet through the book-sized portable viewing screen in his hands. He reclined comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, back in his own universe and time. It was a hellhole of decency and pleasantries, and of overwhelming boredom, but he thought it best to lay low for a while since his escape from the Metropolis Institute for the Criminally Insane. He’d been lucky that the peacekeepers of his own time had sent yet another bungling fool to come and collect him. He’d killed the man, stolen his time window, and vanished for several months, hiding out in a different time.

When he’d finally chanced looking into his own time, he’d been struck with a brilliant idea. He’d immediately stolen the necessary equipment, then had gone back in time again. Another quick theft had landed him a janitor’s coveralls. Slipping into the Daily Planet building had been all too easy. It had been like taking candy from a baby to saunter past the men who were rewiring some of the electrical equipment in preparation for the switch in internet servers. One swift move had switched out their device with the one he had stolen.

The innocuous device had tapped into the internet of another universe.

Specifically, a universe in which Superman was no more than a myth.

Tempus thought that perhaps it might be time to visit that universe for a while. The only thing that had prevented him from going there so far was the overly tantalizing chance to make Clark Kent’s life a living hell. Today had been a trial run.

The results had been far from satisfactory. Tempus had heard that the device tended to overload the power supplies. Apparently his had done so. And what was worse, was that it had apparently fried itself in the power surge.

Well, that was a small matter in his mind. It didn’t make much of a difference that it had failed so quickly. It didn’t bother him that it hadn’t destroyed Superman. It had had one redeeming quality.

It had been fun.

THE END

The following is a list of the real fics mentioned in the story:

“Great shades of Elvis,” Perry complained as he commandeered Lois’ computer. “This person wrote about my death!” — The Passing of a Legend, by Deadly Chakram

“I think I just found a worse one. A list of a hundred ways to kill Superman!” - 100 Ways to Kill Superman by Deadly Chakram, VirginiaR, Lynn S.M. , Alisha Knight, Marcus Rowland, Darth Michael, MrsMosley, Christina, Lara Joelle Kent, ccmalo, Morgana, Shallowford, Ultra Woman, Female Hawk, and Framework4

“And here’s one where you had a baby with another woman, before Lois,” Jimmy said. — Chip Off The Old Clark by Stopquitdont

Clark sighed. “That one had you and our baby dying in childbirth.” — Distraught by Mouserocks

“Hey, CK. Check this one out. There’s a manual on here for dealing with Lois,” Jimmy said, trying to hide his immense amusement. - Lois Lane 101 — A Handbook by VirginiaR, Deadly Chakram, Lynn S.M., Darth Michael, Mouserocks, Shimauma, Framework4, Christina, Shallowford, Lara Joelle Kent, SJH, Classicalla, and Olive

“Oooh, I just saw one about that,” Jimmy said, snapping his fingers and going back to the other window he had open. “Ah yes, here it is. Clark magically turned into a dog when we all thought he’d been shot and killed.” He paused. “Huh. Now that miraculous resurrection makes a ton more sense.” He shook his head. — A (Super) Brief Paws in the Heroic Life of Clark Kent by Deja Vu

Any and all others I made up, as far as I know. If any of them do exist, it is purely a coincidence.

Identity

By bobbart — Bob Bartholomew <bobbart_99@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: November 2012

Summary: The LnC writer Mary Potts created a wonderful funny short, titled “Phero-Moan My Lovely,” that considered what might have happened if Lois had not recovered from the pheromone that she was exposed to in the episode “Pheromone, My Lovely.” This story explores the same concept and considers what might have happened in the time immediately following that episode if the effect of the pheromone on Lois had persisted.

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. I have no claim on the pre-existing characters whatsoever, nor am I profiting by their use. The new story elements are mine. No infringement is intended by this work.

This is an adaptation of the Season 1 episode “Pheromone My Lovely” written by Deborah Joy Levine. This story was inspired by the humorous short “Phero-moan My Lovely” which was written by Mary Potts (Queen of the Capes) based on the same episode.

***

Chapter 1 — Morning

Revenge + 40 hours

Clark opened his eyes to a darkened room. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was just past 2:00 am. He didn’t have to see anything to tell him that he wasn’t alone. He knew that even before he’d opened his eyes. The warm body pressed up against his made that fact impossible to miss.

He’d always been careful to avoid particularly deep… entanglements… with the fairer sex. Clark had never wanted to commit too deeply a personal relationship with a woman with whom he wasn’t willing to share the secret of his abilities. As a consequence, he hadn’t dated seriously in high school or college, and had never allowed a situation with a woman get to the point where there would be any confusion about his being interested in taking a relationship ‘to the next level.’

However, from the moment he’d met Lois Lane, Clark had known that his previous rules for female relationships were about to be thrown out. Being around her was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. With the slightest gesture or word, she had the ability to evoke reactions from him, both good and bad, that no other woman had ever done. From the moment they’d met, he’d been trying to figure out how to interact with the enigma of a woman. The one perfect certainty in his mind was that she was ‘The One.’ This was the woman who he desperately wanted to find a way to let all the way in. In the months he’d known her, they had progressed to being friends. He wanted more — far, far, more — but his lack of experience in these matters left him unsure of how to move their relationship forward. Now, with Lois asleep beside him, the puzzle that was their relationship had taken on a whole new level of complexity.

On Tuesday, there had been a photography shoot in the Planet offices for a perfume company. There had been models all over and some very strange scents. It was later that day that Lois had started acting strangely, but at the time Clark hadn’t realized how out-of-character she was.

Wednesday morning everyone was acting crazy with feelings of love. And Lois had decided that she was in love with him. He’d managed to avoid her all day, but in the early evening she’d shown up in his apartment and tried to seduce him with the dance of the seven veils. It was easy to see that she wasn’t herself, and he’d managed to fend off her almost comical attempts at seduction.

But she wouldn’t leave. Even worse, she had put so much energy into her seduction attempts that it was clear to Clark that she was on the verge of collapse. There was no way he would kick her out of his apartment in her condition. Not surprisingly, she’d been very cooperative when he suggested that she sleep in his bed. However, once she learned that he was planning to sleep on the couch, she came out and curled up next to him.

His couch was comfortable, but it just didn’t work with both of them on it together. Finally, Clark had given in and they had moved to his bed. He’d only gone along with this because he’d been successful in getting Lois to change clothes into a set of sweats. The only clothes she’d brought were a trench coat and her seven-veil costume. They’d settled into bed with him under the sheets in sleep-shorts and a t-shirt. She’d been on top of the covers in the sweats.

Now Clark was paying the price for being a sound sleeper. Lois wasn’t where he’d left her. She was under the covers and pressed up against him. And worse, at least from the perspective of his resisting the advances of his extremely attractive partner, she’d managed to discard the sweats he’d provided. She’d also found a way to remove his t-shirt without him waking up. This meant that they were in bed with the two of them pressed together bare skin to bare skin.

The feeling was unbelievable… and terrifying. He needed to end this now.

He started to try to separate himself from her. At his movements, she started to stir but ended up simply tightening her embrace. Clark decided to try another approach. “Lois, wake up,” he said, shaking her a little.

This time she woke up. It took her a second to realize where she was but after a second, she looked up at him and smiled. ”Make love to me, Clark.”

That was too much. Clark practically jumped out of bed and retreated to the far side of the room. ”Lois, I can’t. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

She sat up on the side of the bed. She wasn’t smiling any more. ”I know what you’re saying,” she said in the saddest voice Clark had ever heard from her. ”I’ve been here before. I thought you were the one man that liked me.”

Then her shoulders visibly slumped. ”Everyone hates me. Stay away from Mad Dog Lane,” she parroted. ”She’s a real bitch.” Lois had started crying even before she’d finished her last sentence. Not only that, she had started shivering in the cool night air.

That was too much for Clark and he went back to the bed. Clark sat next to her, picked up the blanket from the bed and pulled it around her shoulders. ”You’re the most beautiful and desirable woman I’ve ever met.”

“You’re just saying that,” she said dejectedly, looking at the floor.

“Lois, please look at me.”

She looked up at him. ”Lois, if I believed that you were really interested in me, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to let you go.”

Her smile suddenly reappeared and she threw her arms around him. “I do want you,” she declared.

“But you aren’t yourself,” he countered. Clark was aware of every inch of her skin pressed against his. He could also feel each of her tears as they moistened his shoulder. ”Something happened to you yesterday. You don’t love me.”

“Yes I do,” she pleaded. Then Clark felt the gentlest kiss on his neck.

“Lois, this isn’t you. Just a few days ago I’m sure you didn’t love me.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” she countered.

“But these feelings aren’t yours. I think one of the perfumes affected you.”

“Probably. But whatever happened didn’t change anything. It just made me realize how much I wanted to tell you about how I feel.”

“What are you saying?” Clark asked, suddenly even more confused.

Lois was continuing to kiss his neck and shoulder. ”I’ve been pretending you didn’t matter for a long time. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to love you.”

“That’s the perfume talking,” Clark countered. ”Think about it. Before yesterday you weren’t even attracted to me.”

“That’s not true,” Lois said softly. ”I started liking you right from the beginning. Then I started respecting you when tricked me after I stole your story. Then when we were working on the cyborg boxers story, I learned that I could trust you. It was in Smallville, when we had so much fun, and you almost died, that I realized how important you are to me. And when you almost left Metropolis during the heat wave, I realized that I loved you.”

“What?” Clark exclaimed softly, genuinely surprised. ”You didn’t say anything. You haven’t treated me any differently.”

“I was scared,” she said, barely above a whisper. ”Everybody hates me. You’re such a great guy. All the men like you and most of the other women want you. I… I didn’t think I could tell you. Then yesterday I realized that you had to know how I feel. You’re so wonderful that I just have to be with you.”

“But Lois, this isn’t you. When you’re yourself you don’t want to be with me.”

“You mean that you don’t want to be with me,” Lois wept, as she started to cry again. ”You hate me too.”

Her sobs were killing him. Clark could feel the tears running down his back. He couldn’t do this anymore. ”Lois, I don’t hate you. I’ve been in love with you almost from the first.”

“You’re just saying that,” she countered.

“No. My heart has belonged to you ever since I saw you at Luthor’s ball.”

Lois pulled back so that they were face to face. Her arms were still around his neck, but now he was looking at her tear-streaked face. She seemed to be waiting for him to say more. She was so beautiful, but in this moment, Clark could see a fragility that Lois would normally never show. She was hopeful, that was clear. But she was also afraid. A moment ago she’d put her heart on the line by admitting her developing feelings. Could he do any less?

“Remember the night at the Daily Planet right after we met,” he said after several long seconds. “The time that I brought you Chinese food for dinner?”

She smiled weakly. “A good horse is like a member of the family,” she quoted.

Clark smiled at her recollection of that moment. “Do you remember telling me not to fall for you because you didn’t have time for me?”

“But Clark…” she started, but Clark silenced her with a finger pressed gently to her lips.

“It was already too late,” he continued. ”I’ve dreamed of a time when I could tell you how I feel. I’m just afraid that you’ll hate me when whatever happened wears off.”

Her smile had been growing the whole time. God she was beautiful when she smiled. ”You mean…?” she asked.

“Lois, I really do love you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

Lois’s mouth was against his in an instant.

Clark had kissed Lois when he’d almost left Metropolis during the heat wave. That time she’d been too in shock and hadn’t really returned the kiss. This… This was magical. Kissing Lois — really kissing her, with her whole-heartedly kissing him back, was everything he’d always dreamed.

After the most wonderful few minutes imaginable, Lois pulled back again. This time her face was aglow with happiness. ”I love you, Clark.”

The absolute truth made his response too easy. ”I love you, Lois.”

Her responding smile was truly dazzling. Then she pulled herself up against him in a hug that conveyed her emotion. Clark suddenly became aware of Lois’s bare breasts pressed against his chest.

Earlier Lois had been kissing his neck, but now she had worked her way up to his ear. ”Make love to me,” she whispered. Deep in the back of his mind, a quiet voice told him that when Lois’s normal personality returned, he would lose his love forever. But in that moment, with so much of Lois’s bare skin pressed against his, Clark ignored that voice and cooperated with the inevitable.

***

Chapter 2 — After

Revenge + 46 hours

Lois woke up and realized immediately that she wasn’t at home. Before she could spend any real time reviewing her memory, she had a second realization… she wasn’t alone in bed. Then it came back to her. She’d gone to Clark’s. She was in his bed. And she was naked. One quick glance in his direction told her that so was he. She’d never felt so good waking up in the morning in her entire life.

She rolled over and slid up next to the well-muscled body next to her. He was sleeping on his back with the covers pulled down so that his upper torso was exposed. Seeing him now took her back to that day right after they’d met when he’d answered the door wearing only a towel. Clark was an incredibly attractive man. She reached out and ran her hand gently across that chest. Not only did he look good, but he felt good as well.

As she caressed his skin, memories of their lovemaking last night came rushing back. Being with Clark had been far beyond anything in Lois’s experience. Now she had a reference point for differentiating having sex and making love. After last night, she never wanted to settle for ‘just sex’ again. Of course, she never intended to do either with anyone but Clark ever again.

As she gazed at her lover, she’d continued the more or less random motions of her hand on his body. He felt so very good, but simply caressing his sleeping body was not going to be enough. The motions of her hand weren’t causing him to wake, so it was time for stronger measures. She shifted her attention to his face, ran her hand through his hair, then kissed him as gently as possible on his lips. ”Wake up, sleepyhead.”

His eyes fluttered open and there was an instant of confusion, but as soon as he saw her face Lois could see the memories of the night come flooding back. It was fun to watch him go through the same recollection process that she had only a moment before. It was extra pleasant to see those memories trigger a smile. As he started to smile, she leaned in and kissed him again, much harder this time. ”You’re pretty when you sleep,” she said.

That triggered an even brighter smile from Clark. She’d watched that smile disarm almost every woman that she’d seen interact with Clark over the past few months. How had she let so much time go without making this man hers?

“Pretty? I thought men were supposed to be handsome,” he said with a note of mirth.

“No. You look way too good for handsome. But how about sexy?”

He thought about that for a second. “I think I can accept that. And, if you think I’m pretty, then I can accept that too… from you.”

Then he pulled her closer. A few seconds later she was lying on top of him. His chest felt good when she’d caressed it with her hand, but that had been nothing compared to the electricity being generated by his bare chest against hers..

“You feel… fantastic,” he said.

The desire in his voice was unmistakable. ”That’s exactly what I was thinking about you,” she confirmed.

She felt his hands slide down her back and buttocks. The feeling of his hands caressing her skin was so powerful that she was almost shivering from excitement. As she was basking in the exhilaration his touch was triggering, she could see in his expression that he was experiencing the same passion that his touch was eliciting in her. “This… Us being like this… is every dream I’ve had for the past few months come true,” he said after a moment.

No more words were necessary. She lowered her face to his and they had their first real kiss of the morning.

When, a long time later, they separated, Clark looked at her for a long time. ”I love you, and nothing is going to change that, but I think you’re still being affected by whatever caused you to… lose your inhibitions.”

He was right. Something had changed. None of these feelings were new, but they were so overwhelmingly powerful. She knew that one of her strengths as a reporter was that she never let herself be driven by emotion. Others called her reckless, but she thought that others let their fear get in the way. Fear, and all the other emotions, had always been something that she’d ignored. But now, the feelings were so… wow! If other people felt things like this all the time, no wonder they did things differently than she did. For the first time in her adult life she had no second thoughts about acting on the tidal wave of emotion. “I think you’re right,” she conceded. ”But I don’t care. I feel great, and I have you, so everything is fine.”

“Can you tell how you feel different?” Clark asked.

She concentrated for a few seconds. ”My emotions are stronger… or maybe brighter. It’s like I’ve been wearing dark glasses and suddenly I can see the world… feel the world… in bright colors. Also, I feel very comfortable opening up to you. Loving you… and having you know it feels great. Knowing that you love me makes it even better.”

“I still worry that you’re going to hate me later,” Clark said somberly.

How could he have any doubts about what they were sharing? “How could I hate you? I love you. And you love me.”

“Do you feel different any other way? I mean besides how you feel about us,” he asked.

“I feel less… I don’t know. Angry? On edge? I feel sort of like I did when I was young. Maybe like when I was back in high school. I feel an optimism that I haven’t felt for a decade or more.”

“Are all your memories intact?”

She thought for a moment. Everything seemed to be there, but the memories felt different. “I think so. I remember things that bothered me in the past. It’s just that now they feel different. I guess I realize that for the most part the world wasn’t really out to get me. I can see now that I’ve spent too much time fighting and worrying about things when I should have simply relaxed and enjoyed the world. I feel really good about life this morning.”

“It sounds like whatever else has happened, you’ve been given a precious gift.”

She thought for a moment and realized that she agreed with Clark. “I think you’re right. But feeling better is only a part. The best part of what’s happened to me is that I have you now.”

She shifted against him and he must have read the amorous intent from her body language because he pulled back ever so slightly. ”There’s something you need to know. Something about myself that I’ve been keeping secret. Given the state of our relationship, I need to tell you before things go any further.”

A sudden fear washed over her. Was this something that was going to keep them apart? ”If it’s bad, I don’t want to know,” she pleaded, suddenly the tiniest bit fearful.

“It’s not bad, at least I hope you don’t think it’s bad.”

“Then tell me,” she said as the fear disappeared. ”I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to know everything.”

He sighed deeply. ”There isn’t any good way to say this. Umm, I suppose you’ve noticed how much Superman likes you?”

“Yes,” she answered. ”But that doesn’t matter anymore. I only want to be with you.”

“Well, it does matter. You see, the reason that Superman finds you so attractive is the same one that I do. I’m Superman.”

She loved his sense of humor, but this wasn’t the time for a joke. “Very funny, Clark. And I suppose your dad uses super powers to work on his farm,” she countered.

“Don’t you remember my telling you that I’m adopted? Well, I am. It’s just that my birth parents were a little farther removed than for most orphans.”

“You’re serious?”

“Look around,” he said in a mischievous tone.

Laying on Clark it had been easy to focus on only him. He was really pleasant to look at, and he felt even better. Now she looked around and realized that the room didn’t look quite right. Then she looked past Clark’s face. There was the bed — four feet below. ”We’re floating!” she exclaimed.

“I told you,” he said with a crooked smile.

She was trying to process all this. Clark was Superman. That did explain a few things, such as Clark’s utterly fantastic body, but it really didn’t matter very much. ”Was that the only secret that you needed to tell me?” she asked.

He looked surprised at her casual tone. ”Yes. I thought it would be a big deal.”

“It might have been, before whatever changed my outlook. But for now, I’m just glad that you’re Clark and that your secret isn’t anything that will keep us apart.”

“Now that you know, you do understand that we have to be extra careful,” he cautioned. ”If anyone realizes that you are the one special person in Superman’s life, you would become a target for people trying to get back at him.”

The way Clark said “the one special person” sent a warm feeling through her. “I get it,” she answered pleasantly. ”But the only thing that the world will see is that I’m the one special person in Clark Kent’s life. If you can behave yourself in public when you’re dressed as Superman, then so can I,” she said calmly.

“Now that we’re together, it will probably be easier,” Clark said thoughtfully. ”In fact, if we’re careful, you should be even safer. If Clark Kent and Lois Lane are a couple, it’s less likely that anyone will think to use you against Superman.”

“Clark Kent and Lois Lane a couple,” she mused out loud. ”I like the sound of that. But you know what I think sounds even better?”

“What?”

“Clark and Lois Kent”

His eyes went wide, but to her relief she could tell that his reaction was surprise, not terror. ”I…” he stuttered.

She could see that he still didn’t get it. “You said that you were dreaming of a relationship with me. But we both know if you just wanted to sleep with me, you could have done that as Superman months ago. So, am I wrong in thinking that’s what we both want?”

Clark was silent for long enough that she started to have doubts. ”No, you aren’t wrong,” he confirmed finally. ”I’ve known for some time that you were the only woman I wanted in my life. Lois, I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for you. I do want to spend my life with you.”

His confirmation triggered another rush of joy. “Good! Then let’s get married. Your being Superman will come in handy. We can get married in Las Vegas as soon as you can fly us there.”

“No,” he said flatly.

He could be so exasperating. ”Why not?”

“Because that’s the one line I can’t cross until we know that when your — good feelings — wear off, you really do want to be with me.”

“I’m sure of how I feel,” she offered.

“But I’m sure that you aren’t yourself. I love you, and that’s why I can’t take you across that line.”

Every time he said, ‘I love you’ was like a warm wave washing over her. She took a second then considered the rest of what he’d said. ”Do you promise that as soon as I’m back to normal, we’ll get married?”

“If you still want me,” he replied, a nervous tone in his voice.

“I will,” she said brightly.

“I hope you will. If this… relationship was to be wrong, and you were to hate me for starting it, I’d never forgive myself.”

“You’re such a worry-wart.”

“Lois, I…”

She put her hand to his lips. “I understand. You’re going to worry. That’s part of what makes you the man that I realized I loved.” She removed her hand and they shared another deep and passionate kiss. “Enough talking,” she said sharply. “I want to have a good reason to be late for work.”

***

Chapter 3 — Public

Revenge + 51 hours

It was nearly noon when the elevator door opened to admit Clark and Lois to the Daily Planet bullpen. Clark took only half a step before he paused and looked around nervously. This morning was going to be the “coming out” for his and Lois’s new relationship. With Lois still obviously under the influence of that perfume, he was sure to be the subject of negative opinions. Clark just hoped that whatever came their way, anything bad would be directed at him and not Lois.

Despite the assurances that Lois continued to offer, he couldn’t completely quell doubts about the decisions that the two of them had made with respect to their relationship. Even though their friends and coworkers were going to learn this morning of their new relationship, Clark’s parents were not. He wanted to give this thing a chance to mature — and to give Lois a chance to snap out of whatever had affected her, before stepping into that challenge. If he and Lois were still engaged when the weekend arrived, he’d fly them both to Smallville to share the news.

He felt Lois’s hand slide into his. She was probably wondering why he’d stopped. “This is a good sign,” he said aloud.

“What?” Lois asked.

“All those decorations are down. Don’t you remember? Yesterday morning the whole place looked like someone set off a Valentine’s Day bomb.”

“I remember,” she said wistfully. “I liked the decorations.”

Clark was tempted to comment on that observation, but thought better of it. In Clark’s mind, her attitude was just one more indicator that Lois was still not herself. “We’d better report in to Perry,” he said, looking in the direction of the editor’s office. “He seems to be free now. Based on what I saw yesterday, Miranda exposed most of the people in the office to that stuff. We need to know if anyone else is having the lingering effect that you are. And Perry deserves to know about our changed status.”

“You mean this?” Lois asked with a smile, holding up her hand and showing off her engagement ring they’d just purchased.

“Yes. I have a feeling that as soon as he hears what happened, both of us are going to hear an Elvis story.”

“You think he’s going to be mad?” she asked, a slight tone of concern in her voice.

“Not at you,” Clark answered reassuringly. “I think he’ll tell you some story about a time that Elvis rushed into a situation before he got advice from the Colonel. As for me… yes, Perry’s going to be mad.”

They started across the bullpen towards Perry’s office. About half-way there, Clark noticed Jimmy leaning against a desk rubbing his forehead. “Hey, Jimmy,” Clark called as they approached.

Their young friend jerked as if the sound had caused him pain. Then he held up his hand defensively. “Please CK, not so loud,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

When they reached him, Lois reached out and put her hand on Jimmy’s shoulder in a consoling gesture. “What’s wrong?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“The headache. Just like everyone else here.” Jimmy was clearly in pain.

Clark and Lois looked at each other. “What headache are you talking about?” Clark asked, also keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at them as if this headache was common knowledge. “You mean you two don’t have it?”

They both shook their heads.

“That crazy love stuff wore off sometime late last night. When I woke up this morning, I had one of the worst headaches of my life.” He looked back and forth at them for some sign of understanding. “Everyone who was exposed says the same thing and has the headache today. If you don’t have the headache, then I guess you two didn’t get exposed.”

“I did,” Lois said without hesitation. “But I don’t have a headache this morning. I feel great.”

“I think somehow I managed to miss it,” Clark added quickly. “You said it wore off last night?”

“Yeah,” he answered, rubbing his forehead again.

“Do you have any idea when?” Clark asked.

“No. I fell asleep around 10:00 p.m. My memory is fuzzy, but I think it wore off some time after that. From what I’ve heard from everyone else in the office, that was about as long as it lasted for anyone.”

“So you don’t know of anyone that it hasn’t worn off yet?” Lois cut in.

“No. For everyone I talked to, when they woke up this morning, the craziness was gone.”

“Jimmy, after it wore off, did you feel any lingering effects? I mean, were you sure that it wore off completely?” Clark pressed.

“Sure, CK. Aside from this headache, once it’s gone, it’s gone. I can’t believe the things I was feeling while I was under the influence of that stuff. Why?”

Lois started to say something but Clark cut her off. “Thanks, Jimmy. Lois and I need to talk with Perry while he’s free.” As they moved away from Jimmy, Clark pulled in close to Lois. “I’m sorry about cutting you off, but I want to see what Perry knows, and tell him about you… us… before the rest of the office finds out.”

“That’s okay,” she replied brightly. Then she took advantage of his proximity, leaned in, and gave him a quick kiss.

“Lo-is,” he mock pleaded.

His protest just made her smile even brighter. ”I can’t help it. We haven’t kissed for at least fifteen minutes and if you’re going to get this close, what do you expect me to do?”

He just had to smile at her attitude. She had a cheerfulness that was infectious. ”I love you,” he said quietly. The words were out before he even realized he’d spoken aloud.

Lois threw her arms around him and this kiss lasted far more than the second or so of the previous one. Her attack caught him off-guard, but Clark quickly decided to simply enjoy the moment. He put his arms around her and made sure that this was a kiss worthy of office gossip.

When they separated, Clark was unsurprised to find that the whole room had gone quiet with all eyes pointed in their direction. ”We need to see Perry now,” he whispered to Lois.

As they turned toward the editor’s office, he discovered that Perry was watching them with the same intensity as everyone else. When they reached his office, their editor motioned them to come on in. Lois went first and Clark closed the door behind them. He was certain that there wouldn’t be any yelling — yet — but this still needed to be private. As soon as the door closed, Perry opened up with, “What in…” But that was as far as he got.

“We’re engaged!” Lois exclaimed, sticking her hand under Perry’s face to show him her ring. “Perry, when Clark and I get married, will you give me away?”

The older man looked back and forth between them for a second. “Clark?”

Clark sat down in the chair near the door. “Whatever happened here in the office the other day affected Lois.”

“Son, it affected nearly all of us.”

“You don’t want to give me away?” Lois asked in a disappointed tone.

“Darlin’, if that’s what you want when you get married, I’ll be happy to do the honors. But…”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed as she ran around his desk and hugged her boss.

“As I was about to say,” Clark continued even before Lois released her editor, “Lois is still under the influence of whatever it was.”

Lois finally finished her hug and returned to the far side of the desk where she sat next to Clark. “Obviously,” Perry said, after he regained his composure.

“Do you know if anyone else in the office is still under the influence this morning?” Clark asked.

“No,” Perry replied. “This stuff has caused a real mess, but I’ve been asking around, and for everyone else it wore off last night. Lois, honey, how do you feel?”

“I feel great. I’m in love with the greatest guy in the world,” Lois said brightly. “But for right now I’m also ready to get to work. Clark and I talked about this on the way in this morning. He used Jimmy’s photographs to identify the woman that was spraying the stuff that smelled like old socks. She’s a perfume maker named Miranda. If you give us the go ahead, we’re going to start the investigation right away.”

Her sudden change to such a businesslike tone caught Perry off guard. “Sure, you go ahead but I’d like to talk to Clark for a minute.”

Lois stood so that her back was to Perry. Then she smiled at Clark and mouthed the words, “You’re in trou-ble,” without making a sound. Then with an even brighter smile and one more quick squeeze of Clark’s hand, she opened Perry’s door and left the two men alone.

As soon as the door was closed, Perry’s face clouded over, “Clark?”

“Perry, you have to believe me when I say that I only want the best for Lois.”

“Since when does ‘the best’ mean taking advantage of her when she’s under the influence of that drug?” Perry asked in a voice that clearly conveyed his displeasure.

“You must be able to tell that she’s not crazy like everyone was at first,” Clark countered. “You see, the first 36 hours or so it was easy — well, not exactly easy — but I was able to keep my distance. Something seemed to change in her after that time and it got a lot more complicated.”

“About 36 hours you say?”

“More or less,” Clark answered.

“That’s about when the effect started wearing off for most people. A few seemed to have it go on a little longer but no one — that is, no one but Lois — was still under the influence when they woke up this morning.”

“Was everyone in the office affected?”

“Everyone I’ve talked to. If you and Lois both got it, I’m surprised you remember things that clearly. Many of us have only vague memories of while we were under the influence.”

“You got it too, Chief?”

“Yeah, and I’m in some trouble for it, but for now let’s stay focused on you and Lois.”

“Okay. Well, somehow it missed me. But Lois got it and I was her target. That first day and a half, she was like some crazy caricature of a person in love. She was so over-the-top that I could never take her advances seriously.”

“That fits the pattern,” Perry commented.

“But after that she was different. She was much more rational. Instead of just throwing herself at me, she became serious. The first day or so, when I told her no, she just ignored me and tried harder. But late last night, she accepted my rejection and… she started crying. We ended up talking and she told me… well, that part’s private. But she convinced me that there was something real under the craziness caused by the stuff. The reason that I let anything happen with her is that I’m convinced — she convinced me — that even before the drug, she’d been interested in something between us.”

“Okay, I’ve seen the way you two interact so I guess I can accept that, but engaged?”

Clark sat up straighter in the chair. “I know how it probably looks. But I have to ask you to accept that this is between me and Lois. I will say that I want nothing but the best for her. I also intend to do everything I can to help her get back to normal. And, when she does return to her old self, I won’t try to duck the consequences of my part in this.”

Perry sat quietly for a few moments just staring at Clark. “If you were any other man, I’d ride you out of here on a rail. But you… Well, I still might if you don’t do your best to do the right thing by Lois.”

“Her well-being is more important than my own,” Clark said earnestly.

“It better be. So get out there and send her in.”

Clark left the office and headed for Lois’s desk. He was surprised to see Cat sitting across from her with the two of them apparently engaged in a friendly conversation. He reached the desk just as Lois chuckled at something Cat must have said.

“Good morning, Cat,” he said as a way to signal his presence.

Both women looked up at him and went silent. After a second, Lois started giggling and Cat followed immediately. “Lo-Lo tells me you two are engaged.”

“Lo-Lo?” Clark asked, looking at Lois.

“Yeah,” Lois replied. “Remember when we were in bed this morning I told you that I felt an optimism that I haven’t felt since high school?”

Clark blushed at her mention of the way they had started the day, but based on what he’d seen when he approached the two women, Cat already knew. “Yes,” he said.

“Well, my nickname in high school was Lo-Lo. At the time I was happy with that name and I think it fits me better the way I feel today.”

“So I should call you Lo-Lo?”

“I think I’m going to go by that in the office,” she answered. Then she reached out and took his hand in hers. “But you, my love, can call me by any name you want.”

“Lo-Lo,” Clark said deliberately, “Perry wants to see you.”

“I figured,” she said. Then she turned to Cat. “This was great. We’ll definitely talk more later.”

“Good luck with Perry. Remember that he means well,” Cat offered cheerily.

He watched Lois head into Perry’s office then turned to Cat. “What’s the catch?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t stand Lois. If you’re planning something…”

“Down boy. I promise that I mean her no harm.”

“Then I don’t understand,” Clark admitted.

“You were right. I can’t stand Lois. But that’s only because she’s selfish and arrogant so much of the time. Lo-Lo, on the other hand, seems to be a very different woman. I think everyone is going to like working with her.”

Clark considered this. “You’re probably right, but Lo-Lo is only here temporarily. She could recover at any time.”

Cat frowned. “I almost hope she doesn’t. I like my new friend.” Then she looked at Clark. “And Lois barely gave you the time of day. I don’t think Lois will be happy when she finds out what you and Lo-Lo have been doing.”

Clark turned to look at Lois… Lo-Lo, sitting across from Perry in his office. Lois had never looked that cheerful when she was being subjected to one of Perry’s Elvis stories. “I’m afraid you might be right, but as much as I like Lo-Lo, I owe it to her to try to bring Lois back.”

She looked at him seriously. “Lois doesn’t deserve you. Lo-Lo does, but not Lois.” With that Cat stood and headed for her desk.

Clark headed for his own desk and had settled down to plan the investigation into what happened at the Planet. He’d barely started when he heard, “CK” and looked up to find Jimmy standing next to his desk.

Clark remembered to keep his voice down. “Hi, Jimmy. What do you need?” he asked softly.

“Umm…” he stuttered.

“You’re curious about me and Lois?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t mean to stare, but you two can’t kiss like that in the middle of the office and not expect to raise questions.”

“I understand. Well, for now here are the highlights. We’re engaged and she’s still partially under the influence of that love-stuff that hit the office. Good enough?” Clark asked in a no-nonsense tone.

“Yes,” Jimmy answered defensively. It seemed that he could tell when he was being told to not ask too many questions.

“Good,” Clark continued, “That picture you gave me yesterday was just what we needed. The woman that was spraying the stuff that probably started all this…”

“You mean the stuff that smelled like old socks that some kind of animal had been nesting in?” asked Jimmy.

“Yeah, that woman,” answered Clark. “Her name is Miranda and she has a perfume shop here in Metropolis. I need you to dig up all the information on her that you can find.”

“Sure thing CK. I’ll have some information within the hour.”

As Jimmy started away, he almost bumped into Lois returning from Perry’s office. “Oops, sorry Lois,” he said. “CK told me that you two are engaged. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, she replied. She showed Jimmy her ring. “Isn’t it great?”

“Sure. You and CK make a great couple.”

“I agree. And you can call me Lo-Lo.”

“Lo-Lo?”

“Yep. From here on out it’s going to be Lo-Lo and CK forever.”

***

Chapter 4 — Threat

Revenge + 3 days

Clark was pleased that the wrap on the pheromone story came so quickly. To his great pleasure — and relief — Lois proved almost as adept as ever when it came to conducting an investigation. Unfortunately, he came away form this effort worried about her lack of aggressiveness. She didn’t seem to have the energy and drive that normally came to his mind when he thought of his partner. Fortunately, her intelligence and intuition were there in full force. Still, it was unsettling to see today’s version of Lois react with joy and understanding to situations where he knew that regular Lois would be angry and sarcastic.

He was in the process of working on edits to their pheromone stories. All together, they had three different joint articles on Miranda and her love potion. Lois had taken the lead to develop the bulk of the article on Miranda. The focus or that story was how she’d tried to poison the entire city. Clark had taken the more technical article which outlined the science behind Miranda’s concoction. It was up to Clark to put the finishing touches on both of them. After Lois had turned in her first story yesterday, Perry had asked Clark to work with her until she ironed out her style. For the time being, Clark was doing a final edit pass on all her work. She’d accepted this gracefully, and that worried him too. Under normal conditions, Lois would never have so calmly accepted his reworking her words.

They’d done a third story that described Miranda’s attack on the Daily Planet. Lois had worked with Jimmy and discovered that the Daily Planet was only one of three “test sites” where Miranda had spread the stuff. While the Planet was her high-profile target, she also released it in a nearby museum and the restaurant next door. Based on Lois’s research, there had been several hundred people exposed.

Two facts turned up about Revenge that had Clark especially worried. First, there was a way for the pheromone solution to affect someone permanently. That was what Miranda had intended at the end. Second, of all the victims that Lois had found, everyone had recovered completely in less than 48 hours. It was early in the process, but it sure seemed like Lois might have been unusually sensitive. It appeared reasonable to believe that her reaction was the same as what the one hundred percent solution would have done. If that was true, Clark needed to get used to the idea that Lo-Lo might be here to stay.

Of course, if that were to prove to be the case, Clark was extra glad he’d finally given in to her advances. He hated to think what might have happened to Lois if she’d fixated on Luthor instead of him. The idea of Lois as Lo-Lo being in love with Luthor, and acting toward Lex the way she was now treating him, made his skin crawl. Whatever happened, he was committed to do what was best for her. He’d try his hardest to bring her old self back, and if she never returned, he’d be the best companion and husband for Lo-Lo that he possibly could.

“Clark, where’s that last story?” Perry’s bellow broke his muse and he went back to typing.

“And where’s Lo? I want to do a more in-depth follow-up on the other Miranda attacks.” Perry had tried to call her Lo-Lo just once. It just didn’t sound right when he’d said it. After that, he started calling her “Lo” and that seemed to work a lot better. The name thing reminded Clark of his interaction with Jimmy. He was “CK” for Jimmy and “Clark” for everyone else. Now “Lo” was Perry’s name and everyone else seemed to be happy using “Lo-Lo.”

“She said she had some business out of the office and left about an hour ago,” Clark answered his editor. “I expect her back any minute now.”

Perry grumbled for a second. “Tell her to see me as soon as she gets back.”

“I will, Chief.”

A few minutes later, Clark had just finished sending his story to Perry when he heard a most unpleasant voice from across the room. “Is Miss Lane in the office?” It was Luthor. He’d just exited the elevator and had gone over to Cat’s desk.

“No,” Cat answered. “Lo-Lo had something that she needed to take care of. Clark might know when she’ll be back.”

“Lo-Lo?” Luthor asked with disdain.

“That’s what she likes to be called,” was all Cat answered.

Luthor looked his way and caught Clark watching his exchange with Cat. His expression twisted into a sneer for only an instant. Then he seemed to calm himself and started toward Clark’s desk.

“Do you know when Miss Lane plans to return?”

Clark glanced at a nearby clock. “Any minute now. You’re welcome to wait at her desk.”

Luthor started to turn away, but checked himself and turned back to Clark. “I must admit that you managed to surprise me,” he said casually.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

“I pride myself on being able to predict how people will act when presented with unexpected situations. Because of my relationship with Miss Lane, and your position as one of her coworkers, I’d formed a mental image of you.”

“I’m flattered that you find me to be worth your time.”

“You aren’t,” he snorted in an insulting tone. “It’s Lois that is worth my time. In any case, I didn’t have you categorized as the type of… person that would take advantage of a woman the way that you are abusing Lois.”

Fortunately, Clark had anticipated a comment like this as soon as Luthor started speaking to him. Still, the intensity of the surge of anger that Luthor’s accusation triggered, caught him by surprise. Clark almost delivered a sharp response, but managed to remember that he needed to address Luthor as Clark Kent would, and not the way he’d speak to him as Superman. “Why do you say I’m abusing Lois?” he asked in a cold, but controlled voice.

“You may remember that I was here the day after Miranda’s attack on this office. I know that Lois was affected and that by pure chance seemed to fix her attentions on you.”

“So?”

“So I learned at the airport today that you have used her compromised condition to convince her that you two were involved in an intimate personal relationship.”

“Our relationship is none of your concern,” Clark said, his anger starting to get the better of him.

“You seem to have forgotten that before this incident, Lois and I were dating,” Luthor said confidently.

“Based on her actions over the last few days, you don’t seem to have made much of an impression.” Clark knew he shouldn’t get into this sort of argument with Luthor, but after his interactions as Superman, he had very little tolerance for this evil little man.

“Be careful Mr. Kent. You aren’t in Smallville, Kansas anymore.”

Before Clark could reply, there was a voice from across the room. “Why does Clark need to be careful?” Lois was approaching from the direction of the elevator.

Luthor turned to her and changed his tune without skipping a beat. “My dear, Lois. I was just pointing out to you co-worker that the consequences of ill-considered actions or words in a city such as Metropolis can carry more weight than might be the case for a small town.”

She never lost her smile. “That’s true,” she said closing the distance to Clark. “And it’s something I’m sure I’ll remind him of many times after we’re married.” As she reached Clark, she slipped her arm through his and casually kissed his cheek. “I missed you,” she said earnestly, gazing up into his eyes.

She was the perfect antidote for Luthor’s hate. “Me you too,” Clark replied softly.

After another second, she turned to Luthor. “Did you come to congratulate us,” she asked, brightly.

The genuineness of her tone seemed to set the billionaire back for an instant. “Lois, I came by because I wanted to speak with you.”

“Go ahead,” she said simply. “And call me Lo-Lo.”

Her suggestion to use that name seemed to hit Luthor like another blow. “May we speak in private?”

“Sure, we can use an interview room.” She gave Clark’s hand a squeeze as they separated and she led Lex to the small room. After he entered, she closed the door and sat. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You need to reconsider your relationship with… Kent. He’s taking advantage of you.”

She simply smiled. “No he’s not. Clark is perfect for me. I’m lucky to be with him.”

“Lois, you don’t know what you’re saying. I’m sorry to say this, but I believe you’re still under the influence of Miranda’s compound.”

“Of course I am,” she agreed quickly. “Everyone in the office knows it. But that doesn’t matter. I’m happy with who I am and I know what I’m doing. Clark is so perfect and being in love like this is the best thing ever,” she gushed.

“Can you hear yourself? That’s Miranda’s drug talking. You don’t sound like Lois at all.”

His unwillingness to listen managed to irritate her just a tiny bit. “Lois is gone,” she said sharply. “I told you, I’m Lo-Lo. Lois was a stick in the mud. I’m making new friends and having a lot more fun than she ever did.”

Lex’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious. Lois… you and I… I thought we might have something special.”

“Maybe,” she said, a bit more thoughtful this time. “Lois seemed to enjoy it when you two were together. But you’re way too stiff for me. I want to have fun. I like pizza and beer and laughing at bad movies. You might have been right for old Lois, but Clark is my dream come true.”

Now Lex seemed to be getting angry. “Lois, I swear…”

“She’s not here,” she insisted, feeling suddenly defensive and fragile, “I told you. I’m Lo-Lo.”

His look turned even harder as he reached out and grabbed her arm. “LOIS,” he shouted, “I swear I’ll find a way to reverse the effects of this poison and we’ll be back together.”

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpered in pain.

The door opened suddenly and there was Clark. “Lo-Lo, are you okay?”

She pulled free from Lex’s grasp, rushed over to Clark and threw her arms around him. She had started to cry and Clark could feel the wetness of her tears through his shirt.

“You need to leave,” Clark said sternly to Luthor.

“This isn’t over,” he said as he brushed past them. Just outside the door, he stopped and turned back to face them. “I will bring Lois back.” Then he turned and headed away.

Clark held her for several minutes until it seemed that her crying had ended. “Lo-Lo, are you all right?”

“No,” she said softly as she squeezed him tighter. “He hates me.”

“He hates anyone and anything that doesn’t go his way.”

“He hurt me,” she said in disbelief. “I don’t remember him being like that.”

Clark moved his head so that he could whisper in Lo-Lo’s ear. “We need to talk about Luthor. I’ve seen things as Superman that he never let anyone else see.”

She went still. “Talk to me,” she said in a surprisingly somber tone. Even so, she didn’t loosen her hug by even the slightest margin.

“There have been a few things,” Clark said softly into her ear. “Back during our first assignment together, you know, the space transport, I heard enough that convinced me that he was deeply involved in the sabotage and may have been involved in the death of Dr. Baines. Then, right after I appeared, do you remember that series of tests that Superman was subjected to?”

She nodded her head without looking up.

“That was Luthor. Those are the only two things I know about for sure. But based on those things, I started noticing when he was nearby. You’ll remember that he was conveniently right there to shoot Max Menken. It’s interesting that Menken was the only person that could have said where the money for the cyborg experiments came from. Then you were investigating the Metro gang, and again Luthor appears right in the middle of things. After that there was the smart kids brain boost drug, and he was right there again. And again the key person that might be able to provide a link to the money source ended up dead. And finally, the heat wave that almost drove me away from Metropolis…” she hugged him even tighter, “…it turned out to be his nuclear plant.”

Clark paused to see if she was going to say anything. After a long moment, her head still pressed up against his chest, she finally asked, “Why didn’t you tell me what you knew?”

“Luthor is very smart and incredibly careful to never leave any evidence. The only stuff that I’m really sure of are those things that only Superman saw.” He hesitated but wanted to get the rest out. “We hadn’t really known each other that long and, to be honest, I hadn’t earned that level of your trust. I was sure that if I — Clark — came to you with this, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“You’re probably right,” she said after a minute of silence. “Lois was very nervous about trusting you. First, you were so green. Then you turned out to be so good at what you do. But the scariest part of all for her was that you were so nice and so handsome. You left her off-balance and confused. You were making progress but she wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet.”

“We need to talk about Lois,” Clark said directly.

“Yes?” she asked defensively as Clark felt her hug tighten ever so slightly.

“You’re sounding more and more as if you think Lois is a completely different person,” Clark said nervously. “I’m…”

“I’m scaring you, aren’t I?” she suggested softly.

“A little,” he admitted.

She released her hug and looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Clark. I know who I am. I really do. I haven’t forgotten that I’m really Lois. But I also know that before this… change, there were a lot of fears and emotions that were driving me in a very different way. It’s easier to talk about the old me as if she was a different person, but it doesn’t mean that I’ve lost track of who I am. It’s just that for right now, I feel so good about what this change has allowed me to experience.”

“I heard some of what Luthor said. I heard the way he insisted on calling you Lois.”

“I didn’t like the way he used her name,” she said, just the slightest note of anger in her voice.

“I’d been thinking that I’d rather call you Lois. I want you to know that I loved you before. But after what I just heard, I think I’m in the Lo-Lo camp for a while.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “It will be a lot easier for me — especially for now — if you’d call me Lo-Lo. But I also know that when you speak to me as Lois, it means something very different than what Lex meant. I meant what I said earlier. I really am okay with you calling me Lois. And I understand that the way I sound might be a little scary. I’ll try to do better.” She took a deep breath. “But please don’t use my Lois name for the rest of the day.”

***

As Clark walked up to his apartment, he looked down at Lois’s hand holding his own and couldn’t help but wonder at the way the changes in his relationship with her felt so natural. As such, he wasn’t particularly surprised when she insisted on coming with him to his place instead of heading to her apartment.

“Go on in,” he said, holding the door open for her.

She went in first with him right behind. Clark closed the door and turned to her. “Now…”

He never finished his sentence. She literally jumped toward him and attacked him with a powerful and sensual kiss. After only an instant of initial surprise Clark was more than happy to return the kiss with all the desire that had built up over the months since he’d met this incredible woman. The first kiss blended into a second, and then a third.

Some number of minutes later she pulled her face back just an inch or two. “I’ve been dying to do that all afternoon,” she said with a very satisfied smile.

“If that’s what happens when you walk me to my apartment, we’re going to have to make a habit of this.”

“Clark, I did something today that I’m nervous about. I hope you aren’t mad.”

“You excel at doing things that make me worry, but I doubt I’ll be mad. What did you do?”

“Look around.”

Confused, Clark looked out into the center of his apartment. There were several suitcases near the bedroom. “Suitcases? Where did those come from,” he asked.

“They’re mine,” she said, a nervousness still in her voice. “If it’s okay with you, I want to move in with you.”

“Lo-Lo, being with you is… incredible, but this seems awfully quick for such a big step. Are you sure that this is what you want?”

“Yes it’s quick. And I know this is forward on my part, but it’s how I feel. I… I just don’t want to be alone right now. The truth is that I can’t imagine ever wanting to spend another night away from you, but for now I’d be happy if you’ll let me stay with you for the rest of the week.”

She was looking at him hopefully. This was probably a bad idea, but she felt so fragile. Before he could reply, she tried again. “Please, Clark. At least let me stay for a few days.”

Clark could see in her face just how much she wanted this. And he had to admit, at one level, he wanted it too. That voice from the first night was back and reminding him that this was probably a very, very bad idea, but he’d done fine so far ignoring it so he simply said, “Welcome home, roommate.”

***

Chapter 5 — Results

Revenge + 20 days

Lo-Lo opened her eyes to find that she had anticipated the alarm clock again. On workdays, the alarm was always set for 6:15 a.m. She woke up this morning to find that the clock read 6:11. This wasn’t unusual, since her system was adapted to getting up at this time. Part of her wished that she’d gotten those extra four minutes of sleep. Still, she did appreciate that she didn’t have to deal with being startled awake by the alarm. She reached over to the clock and turned off the alarm, then turned to face the other side of the bed. The sight of Clark asleep next to her brought a smile to her lips every morning.

She was happy that she and Clark had meshed so well. She’d worried that Clark was going to find living together to be awkward. But from that first day, it had been the most natural thing in the world. Even so, he’d still tried to get her to go home after the first few days were past, but she could tell that he was doing it out of concern for her, and not because he really wanted her to leave. They’d had a slow and carefully reasoned conversation and he’d been easy to convince that it was okay for her to stay. In the end, while she knew he was worried about her long term welfare, she also knew that he loved her being here with him.

She slid over and worked her arms around his sleeping form. As usual, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her without seeming to wake up. Sometimes she thought these were her favorite kisses of all. They weren’t the deepest or most passionate kisses, but she always thought that these felt like pure statements of the love Clark felt for her. As she snuggled closer to her sleeping fiancé, she realized just how much she loved her new life.

As she lay pressed up against Clark, her body quickly reminded her of her seemingly omnipresent arousal. She still wondered how much of that was Revenge, and how much of that was sleeping every night with someone that could easily be a male model. Whatever the reason, her desire was nearly unquenchable. Fortunately, Clark seemed to draw as much pleasure from helping her deal with this aspect of Revenge as she did. In any case, right now she just wanted to cuddle.

She spent a few minutes in Clark’s arms before she decided that it was time to get the day rolling. “Clark,” she said softly. “We need to get up.” Then she gave him a few seconds to stir. After another moment, she decided stronger measures were called for. This time she nudged him a bit and said, slightly louder this time, “Clark.”

He finally stirred and opened his eyes. When he realized that her face was within an inch of his own, he gave her a quick — but not too quick — kiss. “Good morning,” he said.

She could tell from his voice that he wasn’t a hundred percent this morning. “You’re tired,” she observed aloud. “I woke up at 3:00 a.m. and you were gone. Was it a busy night?”

“I’m sorry,” Clark said sincerely. “I hate not being here when you wake up. I must have been dozing lightly at around 2:00 a.m. because I heard the police report about an apartment building fire at the edge of Suicide Slum. You were sound asleep and I thought I’d be back before you noticed I was gone.”

“I understand,” she said reassuringly. “We’ve talked about this before. I have to adjust to life with the ultimate emergency worker. I know that if you aren’t here, it’s because someone else needs you. But Clark, I’m still worried about how tired you’ve been since Nightfall. I don’t think you’ve completely recovered from that first impact that left you with amnesia.”

“You’re probably right,” Clark said tiredly.

“Probably?” she replied with a smile and note of challenge.

That triggered the first bright Clark Kent smile of the day. “Okay, you’re certainly right. But I’m getting stronger every day.”

“I still think that Superman should have taken a few weeks off after the Nightfall crisis,” she said with a hint of worry. “You know that you mom told me to make sure you took it easy so you’d recover after Nightfall. As strong as you are, that was nearly too much even for you.”

“Lo, you worry too much,” he defended. Clark had started using Perry’s variant of her name the day after the big fight with Lex. She knew that Clark preferred to use ‘Lois’ all the time, but he also knew that her preference was the different name that reflected her new life. Reconciling her new life with the old one continued to be a challenge for both of them.

She put her hand to his cheek. “Who else is going to worry about my super man?”

He pressed his cheek into her hand. “No one. At least, not the way you do. Not the way Superman… I need. And we’re both lucky to have you,” Clark said with sincere affection. “I don’t know what would have happened if I’d gotten amnesia and you hadn’t been here to tell me who I was.”

“It’s like I keep telling you,” she said trying to lighten the mood. “Our being together is destiny,”

Clark kissed her again and glanced at the clock. “We need to get started,” he said, a slight note of urgency suddenly present in his voice. “Remember that we have an early appointment at Lex Labs to go over your test results.”

“Is that today?” she asked brightly. “Do you remember your promise?”

“Of course. And if the tests come back the way we want, I’ll be delighted to keep that promise.”

“You’d better. And I’m still going to hold you to flying us to Las Vegas so we can get married immediately.”

“It’ll be my very great pleasure,” he said as he kissed her again.

***

Lo-Lo couldn’t help tapping her foot impatiently. “Why is it that any time you have to meet someone whose title is doctor, you always have to wait for them?” She and Clark were waiting at a table in a sterile-feeling room at Lex Labs. When they’d arrived, they’d been shuffled into this room and told to wait for a Dr. Jensen. That was more than ten minutes ago. The old Lois would have probably already walked out. However else she’d changed, a lack of patience was one thing that she continued to share with her earlier self.

A minute later, the door opened and a middle-aged black woman came in. “Good morning. I’m Doctor Althea Jensen, the team lead on the Revenge project. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I wanted to be sure I had copies of all your test results so you can take them with you.” She closed the door and placed her material on the table. “You must be Lois Lane,” she said offering her hand.

Lo-Lo shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Jensen. This is my fiancé Clark Kent.”

Dr. Jensen shook Clark’s hand. “Mr. Kent.”

The doctor sat down in the chair across from Lois. She put her papers on the table between them and looked a Lo-Lo. “We’ll get right to it,” she started in an all-business tone. “Ms. Lane, you are still under the influence of Revenge.”

Lo-Lo felt the disappointment wash over her. She wouldn’t be getting married today. “Are you sure?” she tried. “I feel fine.”

“I’m sure you do,” Dr. Jensen replied, still all business. Then the doctor smiled just a tiny bit. “Feeling well doesn’t mean you’re under the influence of Revenge, but if you are affected by Revenge, you will certainly be feeling well.”

Now she was talking in riddles. “What? Doctor, please,” Lo-Lo said. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Doctor Jensen’s smile faded. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve been talking about this with the other researchers too much. Let me clarify by going over how Revenge works. That will also go a long way toward your understanding the nature of how you’re still under the influence of this drug.”

“Go ahead,” Lo-Lo said.

“Let me warn you both that this is a little technical. I know that neither of you are scientists, but I think you’ll be able to follow. Okay?”

“Doctor Jensen,” Clark replied, “We’re both reporters. Less than six months ago, we were involved in an investigation into the EPRAD space transport. As long as you don’t get too deep, I’m sure we’ll be able to keep up.”

The doctor looked at her for confirmation. Once she nodded in agreement, the explanation began. “Revenge is all about brain chemistry and how that affects your actions and emotions,” she began. “There are two key areas that govern most emotional triggers and how we process those emotions. The first is a structure called the amygdala. It does many things, but the one that we are concerned with is the function of associating thoughts with emotions. This includes those emotions that govern attraction, aggression and sexual responses. For example, when you see or remember a bad experience, it’s the amygdala that ties that thought to an emotional reaction of anger or sadness. It has a similar functionality for feelings of affection and sexual excitement.

The doctor paused and looked at her. “Ms. Lane, you introduced Mr. Kent as your fiancé?”

“Yes,” Lo-Lo confirmed.

“Do me a favor and look at him. Do you find him physically attractive?”

The doctor paused as Lo-Lo looked at Clark and felt her face flush as a wave of arousal washed over her. Lo-Lo looked back at the doctor to find that she was watching her intently.

“Um, Yes,” Lo-Lo answered.

Dr. Jensen’s knowing smile told Lo-Lo that her physical reaction had not gone unnoticed by the older woman. “That, Ms. Lane, is also the amygdala. The other element we need to worry about is a structure called the anterior cingulate cortex, which we usually just call the ACC. If the amygdala is the engine for our emotions, then the ACC is the brake. The ACC acts to mitigate the effects of those emotions triggered by the amygdala. Mostly it keeps us from overreacting when we feel an emotional surge.”

She paused but neither Lo-Lo nor Clark seemed to have a question. “Okay, so let’s talk about Revenge. It acts on both those regions. First, it essentially shuts down the emotion-governing function of the ACC. While it’s in full effect, as it is during the first 36 hours after exposure, a person has no mechanism to prevent them from acting on every emotion that they feel.”

“Couldn’t that be dangerous?” Clark asked. “What if someone got mad?”

She smiled at Clark as if he were a quick student in a classroom. “Very good, Mr. Kent. Revenge also affects the amygdala so that it is incapable of producing the hormones and chemical signals that trigger anger and aggression. Thoughts that would normally trigger anger simply don’t produce a reaction. At the same time, Revenge amplifies those elements that trigger feelings of well being and sexual attraction. The combination of the effects on the amygdala and the ACC give you the behaviors that were documented during the 36 hour period of primary activity.”

“But Lois isn’t acting anything like she did during that time,” Clark insisted.

“I’m sure she’s not.” Then Dr. Jensen pulled a sheet out of the stack in front of her and glanced at it. “Our evidence indicates that 578 people were affected to Revenge.”

“That many?” Lo-Lo asked. Her initial investigation had suggested only about half that.

“Yes. The Daily Planet was the smallest of the three tests that Miranda performed. All but seven of those 578 people returned to normal after 36 hours. Those seven had the same reaction at first, but it didn’t wear off the same way as for everyone else.”

Dr. Jensen paused long enough to make sure she had Lo-Lo’s attention. “For those people, including you Ms. Lane, both the ACC and amygdala remained impaired. Your amygdala has recovered the ability to produce anger triggers, but only to a greatly reduced degree. At the same time, the production of the sexually related triggers remained artificially high. The effect on the ACC is similar, but it’s more difficult to determine when the amygdala is out-of-balance. We are continuing to investigate, but the evidence suggests that the ACC is not working at its normal levels.”

She pushed an envelope toward Lois. “Here are your test results. You’re blood chemical levels and EEG scans are entirely consistent with the other six victims. You are in a state of continual positive emotional and sexual stimulation combined with an impaired ability to control your reactions to those feelings. So, going back to what I said when we began, if you are affected by Revenge, you will certainly be feeling well.”

“Is Lois in any danger from these imbalances?” Clark asked, concern clearly in is voice.

The doctor shook her head. “From what we can tell, there’s no apparent physical danger from her condition,” she said in a reassuring tone. “They’re significant enough to affect behavior, but not enough to endanger her health.”

Clark sighed, visibly relieved. “Will I… recover?” Lo-Lo asked.

“We really don’t know,” the doctor admitted. “The data we have indicates that you, and all the other long-term victims, appear to be completely stable. There are no indications that your body is correcting this on its own. At this time, the opinion of the research team is that without something to reverse the effect of Revenge, it is possible that you may remain the way you are now for the rest of your life.”

***

“So we can’t get married,” Lo-Lo said once they were both in the car.

Clark looked as sad as she felt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can yet.”

“It’s because I’m not a whole person,” she replied dejectedly.

Clark didn’t respond and it seemed clear that he couldn’t think of anything to say. He reached over and squeezed her hand, then started the car and headed for the Planet. After a few blocks, he seemed to think of a new approach to try to lessen the blow. “She really didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already suspect,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Do you think they’ll develop a cure?” Lo-Lo asked, more to keep Clark talking that any real interest in the answer.

“I don’t know. They seem to have a good understanding of the mechanism of Revenge. She seemed confident that they’ll come up with something.”

There had been something in his voice. He sounded like he wanted her to go back to being Lois. “If they develop a treatment, do you want me to get… fixed?” she asked, slightly afraid of his answer.

“I want you to be healthy,” he replied immediately.

“But what if my feelings — my attraction to you — are only because of a broken armadillo…”

“Amygdala,” Clark corrected.

“Whatever. What if without that extra boost, I don’t love you anymore?”

Clark considered this for nearly a minute. “I hope with all my heart that what we have is real enough to survive. If it’s not… It will hurt. A lot. But at least you’ll be able to make decisions about where you go from here knowing that it’s not because you were suffering from the aftereffects of a chemical attack.”

He paused again, but Lo-Lo had no response so he continued. “I have to believe that what you told me that first night will prove true. We are where we are today, because you convinced me that you were falling in love with me before Revenge.”

“I was,” was what she said, but ‘I hope I was,’ was what she thought. She took a second to quell her fears, then continued. “But without Revenge, I might never have shown it. I’m afraid of how I might be without the drug. I just don’t know how I’ll act. From my perspective now, I don’t understand why I acted the way I did before Revenge. I’m afraid there’s something I felt, or something I thought, that I’m missing.”

“You said you were scared of showing your feelings… scared of being hurt,” Clark suggested.

“I was. And I was angry. I feel like I was angry all the time,” she explained.

“You were certainly a lot more — intense,” Clark commented.

There was that tone in his voice again. Then she had it. Clark missed that intensity. “Clark, did you like old Lois better than me?”

Clark pulled the car to a stop and turned to her. “Honey, there is only you. Remember, I was in love with you from the beginning. I swear that’s true,” he pleaded.

“No. You were in love with her!” she retorted with a flash of anger that popped out in spite of Revenge.

“Now you aren’t being fair. You know I love you.” He really sounded like he meant it.

“Then marry me. Today!” she begged.

Clark looked like he was in pain. “Lo, we’ve been through this before. I wish I could. But…”

“You might as well call me Lois,” she snapped back at him. “She’s the reason we’re stuck. She might come back and not like our relationship.” Lo-Lo barely got the words out before she started crying. “She’s the one you want to be with,” she sobbed.

Clark leaned over and pulled her into a hug. At his touch, she felt the anger slip quickly away, but the hurt was still there. She needed him so much. She loved him so much.

“Lo, please,” he pleaded. “We’ve been over this. You’re only one person. The old and new versions are both the woman I love. I owe it to both parts of you to do the best that I can for all of you.”

“I’m just so scared,” she whispered through soft sobs. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose me.”

***

Dinner had been pleasant as always. Clark cooked and they’d cleaned up together afterwards. She’d been worried that after the events in the car, there would be an uncomfortable tension between her and Clark all day. Fortunately, that hadn’t been the case. She guessed that it had something to do with Revenge. Once she’d gotten past that moment, she found her cheerfulness return quickly. Clark also helped. He’d been even more attentive than usual all day and she loved him all the more for that.

They were just finishing the dinner dishes when there was a knock on the door. Clark lowered his glasses and looked in the direction of the door. “It’s your mom,” he said.

Lo-Lo felt herself frown. “I’ll get it,” she said tiredly. She crossed the apartment, pasted a smile on her face, and opened the door.

Lo-Lo started to say hello, but never got the chance as Ellen cut her off. “Lois, once you told me the news about the Lex Labs results, I knew that I had to see you tonight.”

Her mom was the only person with whom she interacted on a regular basis that still called her Lois. She’d given up asking her mom to call her Lo-Lo after the first few days. “Hello, mother. Please come in.”

Ellen Lane came in, took off her coat and handed it to her. While she was hanging her mom’s coat on the hook by the door, Clark stepped out of the kitchen and tried to greet her mom. “Good evening, Mrs. Lane. Would you like some tea?”

Ellen looked at him coldly and said, “No,” her voice filled with venom. From the moment that her mom had met Clark, and learned of his relationship with her daughter, Ellen had been barely civil to her fiancé. After a cold few seconds, her mom turned to face her. “We need to talk,” she said urgently.

This tone was never a good sign. Lo-Lo headed for the sofa and sat down. “Okay, let’s talk,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful. Where was that Revenge attitude fix when mom was here?

Ellen indicated Clark with her eyes. “When we spoke on the phone, I’m sure that I told you that I wanted to talk without him nearby.”

Even Revenge couldn’t keep her from feeling a burst of rage at the way her mom had referred to Clark. “You did, mother,” she said in as controlled a voice as she could muster. “But anything we need to talk about, we can talk about in front of Clark.”

“I can leave,” Clark offered.

“No!” Lo-Lo said sharply. “I want you here. Now come and sit with me.”

Clark’s eyes widened for just a second at her tone, but his smile told her that he didn’t mind her commanding attitude. In a flash, she realized that for just that instant she’d acted the way she would have as Lois. No wonder Clark smiled. When he sat beside her, she immediately took his hand in her own.

Her mom’s eyes remained locked on their clasped hands for a solid second or two. Then she got to the reason for her visit. “Now that you know your condition, you need to stay away from… him,” she said sternly. “When are you going to move out?”

She just had to smile at her mom’s audacity. “Mom, you know that isn’t going to happen,” she said easily.

“You still have your own apartment, don’t you?” Ellen asked.

“Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I don’t need an apartment of my own anymore. And that’s not the issue anyway. I’m not going to leave Clark.”

Her relaxed reply seemed to catch her mom off-guard. “But the test results… He’s taking advantage of you. You know that now.”

“I don’t know any such thing. It’s not as if I lost my memory from the time before I got hit with Revenge. I was in love with Clark before that,” she said confidently.

“That’s the Revenge talking,” her mother countered. “My daughter would have never been interested in someone just off a Kansas farm. You had aspirations. You were dating Lex Luthor.”

“We weren’t dating. I just had dinner with him a few times.”

“How many times did you go out for dinner with the farmer here before Revenge?”

“His name is Clark, mother.”

“Fine,” Ellen said sharply. “How many times did you go out for dinner with Clark before Revenge?”

She paused for only the barest moment. “That doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Yes it does,” Ellen countered. “You told me that Lex Labs is working on a treatment for your condition.”

“So?”

“After we talked I called them and was able to speak with Dr. Jensen. She told me that no one under the influence of Revenge is able to make decisions about… personal issues. I’m going to meet with her so that she has a correct picture of how much Revenge has changed you.”

“Mother, I know that I’ve changed,” she tried to explain. “But can’t you accept that I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life? I don’t care if this is part of being exposed to Revenge.”

“That’s why you have to leave. The drug has you all confused. You’ve turned away from your future because that poison has twisted your mind to think this… man is what you want. He’s just using you. He doesn’t really love you.”

That was too much. Clark’s love was the single thing she needed to count on most. It took several seconds to regain her composure. Then she stood. “Mother, please leave.”

“What?”

“I said leave. When you’re ready to accept me and Clark being together, you can come back.”

Ellen stood and walked quickly to the door. She took her coat and walked out leaving the door standing open behind her. Lo-Lo walked slowly to the door and closed it. She heard Clark following and when she turned away from the door, he was right there. “Clark, hold me,” she pleaded.

His arms went around her. “I do love you,” he offered. “More than anything.”

“I know.”

“But as much as I hate to admit it, your mom has a point,” Clark added. “The decisions you make now aren’t necessarily the ones you would make if not for Revenge.”

She pulled him tighter. “I know that too… and that scares me most of all. I really am afraid that if I ever go back to the way I was before, I won’t love you anymore. I don’t want to live that way. What I said to my mom was true. I’ve never been happier than I am now. I’m sure that if Lois had known what this would be like, she would have jumped at it.”

“I kept hoping you’d see me,” he mused aloud.

“She… I… She was so scared of being hurt,” she explained. “And so angry. I just don’t trust her. If that all comes back, I’m afraid she’ll do something stupid.”

“Stupid?” Clark asked fearfully.

“I know her. I know everything she did and felt, but the reasoning she used to make decisions just seems completely wrong. Her fear makes her nasty. There’s a good chance that she’ll shut you out. Or even worse, she’ll attack you.”

“Why? Won’t you — Lois — remember what you and I have talked about… what we’ve shared?”

“If she doesn’t, it will be really bad.” Lo-Lo closed her eyes and concentrated for a few seconds. “You know she’d been taken advantage of before.”

Clark nodded slowly.

“I’m sure she’ll think all the worst that my mom does. She’ll feel violated. And since she liked and trusted you, she’ll feel betrayed.”

Clark shuddered at the thought. “All we can do is hope that she… that you’ll remember what we’ve had.”

“Even if she does, there still might be a problem. She’ll be angry because she’ll feel like she didn’t make the decision to start our relationship. She can get so very angry.” Lo-Lo pulled Clark into an even tighter hug. He felt like a life preserver in a storm. “I’m afraid of what she might do.”

“I’m afraid of that too,” Clark said solemnly.

***

Chapter 6 — Court

Revenge + 6 weeks

As Lo-Lo approached the county court house, she could hardly believe that it had come to this. Two weeks ago, she’d finally reached the point where she felt comfortable in her new life. First, and most importantly, Clark had agreed to start making detailed wedding plans. Also, after no small struggle, she’d found a writing style that suited her new outlook and that Perry had declared to be acceptable. And, the most unexpected development, she had a new best girlfriend.

In some ways, it felt odd that she was setting aside at least one night each week for a girls night out, but it was so much fun. At first, she almost hadn’t done it. After all, what could be better than spending every evening in Clark’s arms? But he’d convinced her that she needed to get used to being out in the world with her new personality. Even with Clark’s encouragement, it probably wouldn’t have happened without Cat’s help.

Lo-Lo was grateful that Cat had made such an effort to be her friend. Who would have thought that the columnist would become her best friend? In her Lois days, she’d never gotten along with Cat. But as had been the case with her relationship with Clark, Revenge allowed her to see the positive aspects of Cat that she’d dismissed before. There were still parts of Cat’s personality that Lo-Lo didn’t exactly admire, but they didn’t seem to be a big deal anymore. Cat was just a fun and free-thinking person. Lo-Lo didn’t understand why Lois had been so up tight about the things that Cat did. Their girls-night-outs were a blast. After the third time out together, Cat had even stopped trying to get her to “sample” any of the men they met on these outings.

She found that she enjoyed clubbing more than she ever remembered as Lois. She danced and flirted a bit with the men she met on these evenings, but she had no interest in letting it go beyond that with anyone but Clark. There had only been one instance of a man trying to not take “No” for an answer, but Cat had intervened and everything had turned out fine. Afterwards Lo-Lo had been so impressed with the way Cat had flattened that jerk that she’d gotten her friend to promise a few lessons in handling that kind of man.

But then, just as she thought she’d hit her stride, she got the call that Lex Labs had developed a cure for Revenge. Dr. Jensen had suggested that she take it right away. For Lo-Lo this was a no-brainer. She loved her new life and wasn’t interested in a cure, so she declined.

That news led to a long talk with Clark that evening. He thought she should take the treatment. In fact, he was really worried about the fact she didn’t want to risk going back to being Lois. He spent most of an evening trying as hard as he could to convince her that she should take the cure. However, once she made her position and feelings clear, he’d reluctantly agreed to support her decision. But since that day he’d refused to talk any more about wedding plans. Clark didn’t know that since that night, every time she thought about their now-obviously-cancelled wedding, she broke down in tears. She knew that he loved her, but he loved Lois more. She feared that no matter what their future held, he’d always long for Lois over her.

She stopped on the sidewalk looking up the steps that led into the courthouse building. “I don’t want to be here,” she mused aloud.

Clark had been true to his word and had not let go of her hand the whole time they’d been walking toward the building. “I know,” he said reassuringly. “But we don’t have a choice. Your mom was way more determined than we thought she’d be.”

“She can be that way, but there’s more going on here than just my mom,” Lo-Lo replied, never taking her eyes off the imposing building in front of them. “I know she wanted to do this, but I don’t think she would have been able to make it happen on her own. I think she’s getting legal and financial help from somewhere else.”

“Your dad?” Clark suggested.

She turned to Clark. “No. I was able to reach my dad and he didn’t know anything about any of this. He didn’t even know what Revenge was.”

“Then… who?” Clark asked, clearly confused.

“Lex,” Lo-Lo said accusingly.

“Luthor?” Clark countered in a tone of disbelief.

“Don’t you remember the way he acted when he found out that I wasn’t interested in him?” Lo-Lo challenged. “I do. I can still hear his, ‘I will bring Lois back,’ echoing in my mind.”

“Sure,” Clark counted in soothing tones. “We always figured that was why he was funding the Lex Labs research into Revenge and developing a cure.”

“And they succeeded,” Lo-Lo cut him off. “But then I refused to take it.”

“And you think that moved him to help your mom? I guess it makes sense. When he decides that he wants something, the man can be very determined. And he wants you.”

“No,” she said sharply. “He wants Lois. I’m nothing more than something that’s keeping him from her.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

“Lo, he’s got to figure that even if he were to force you to undergo the treatment for Revenge, you’re likely to remember that you aren’t interested in him anymore.”

“The way I am now, he’ll never have me. He knows that. I’m sure he also knows that one-half of the people who have been treated for long term Revenge have little to no memory of the time they were affected. He’s got to figure that my taking the cure for Revenge gives him a fifty-fifty chance of getting me back. I’m sure he sees those odds as too good to pass up.”

Clark seemed to consider her words. “I don’t think Dr. Jensen is part of the plan… at least not knowingly. Even she said that the evidence continued to show no long-term health risk to remaining untreated,” Clark said supportively.

“But she’s scheduled to speak against me in this competency hearing. I’m convinced Lex is behind this. There had to be some special pressure applied to get this in front of a judge. Especially to get this to happen so quickly.”

Clark glanced at his watch, “Lo, we need to get inside. The proceeding is about to start.”

They reached the courtroom with only a minute to spare. Lo-Lo’s lawyer, Cynthia Bryce was already there and ready. She released Clark’s hand and continued to the front of the courtroom alone. Cynthia had insisted that it would look better if Clark didn’t sit with her, so he was in the gallery in the back of the courtroom.

After another minute, the bailiff told them to stand and the judge entered. He sat down, looked at the papers in front of him and turned to his bailiff. “Harry, is everyone here?” He seemed to have a nice voice.

“Yes, Judge.”

The Judge looked around the room. “Ms. Ellen Lane has challenged the competency of her daughter Ms. Lois Lane and is seeking power of attorney for the purpose of compelling her to receive medical treatment. Are both Ms. Lanes present and have representation?”

The lawyer sitting next to her mom stood. “Yes, your honor,” he said. “I’m Bob Jones and will be representing Mrs. Ellen Lane.”

The judge turned to face her table.

Cynthia stood. “Your honor, my name is Cynthia Bryce and I’m representing Ms. Lois Lane here beside me,” Cynthia said, gesturing in her direction.

“Very well. Before I begin, let me review what we’re doing. This is not a trial. No one is accused of a crime. This is a hearing and based on the information and testimony presented, I am charged with deciding if Mrs. Ellen Lane will be granted the authority she is seeking.” Then the judge turned to the opposition table. “Mr. Jones, your opening statement please.”

The other lawyer stood up. “Thank you, Judge. On November 28, my client’s daughter, Ms. Lois Lane, was a victim of a chemical attack. The chemical was a drug called Revenge that altered the personality of its victims. The majority of those victims spent 36 hours in various states of believing that they were in love. In most cases, these individuals spent that time in pursuit of the first person that they saw for which they felt any attraction. Fortunately, for almost everyone that the drug affected, the symptoms wore off after approximately 36 hours. Generally speaking, those people who were afflicted with Revenge deeply regretted the things they did and the decisions they made while under the influence.”

“Unfortunately for some, such as my client’s daughter, the drug did not wear off completely. She has continued to suffer from a personality change due to the chemical. Research performed by Lex Labs discovered that there were seven victims — Lois Lane and six others — who remained affected by Revenge after the 36 hour period of primary exposure. Approximately two weeks ago, Lex Labs developed a treatment that completely reverses the effect of Revenge. We are here today because in her affected state, Lois has refused the treatment. It is our intent to show that due to the chemical, she is not in a position to make this decision. Our petition for power of attorney is only to compel Lois to receive that treatment. Once she has been cured of her exposure to the drug, she is free to get back to her own life with no further interference or loss of rights to make her own decisions.”

The whole speech sent a chill through Lo-Lo. Everything he said was true. What if they could convince the judge that she was unable to make decisions for herself?

“Ms. Bryce, your opening statement please,” the Judge said.

Cynthia stood. “Thank you, your honor. My client doesn’t contest the fact that she was and is affected by the Revenge drug. However, after considering her options and with due deliberation, my client has declined treatment. Our view is that this is a disagreement between Lois and her mother and it is our intent to demonstrate that she is fully competent and that there is no basis for stripping Lois of her right to make her own medical decisions.”

“Very well,” the judge said. “Mr. Jones, please present your arguments.”

“Dr. Althea Jensen, please take the stand.”

Dr. Jensen took the stand and was sworn in. Lo-Lo struggled to pay attention while Dr. Jensen went over the way Revenge altered brain function. This was all old news and Lo-Lo really wished Clark could be sitting with her. This was very stressful and she wanted him next to her so that he could hold her hand.

“So they have the same pattern of regret as the people that were only affected for 36 hours?” the other lawyer said, suddenly in a tone loud enough to capture Lo-Lo’s attention.

“That is correct,” Dr. Jensen answered. “We were actually surprised how similarly the other six people reacted after they were treated for Revenge. Three of these people have amnesia very similar to the short-term victims. For all of them, the brain chemistry was very similar to the short-term affected.”

“Dr. Jensen, based on your knowledge of those treated, did all of them take the treatment voluntarily.”

“No, only two of the affected took the treatment voluntarily,” she replied. “The other four were compelled to do so.” Lo-Lo hadn’t heard this part before. So she wasn’t the only person that liked their new life. That very thought gave her hope that she’d get through this.

“So, just like Lois, they did not want to be treated.” Lo-Lo didn’t like the voice of her mom’s lawyer. He sounded so much like a… lawyer.

“That is correct,” Dr. Jensen replied.

“Why were they treated?”

Now Lo-Lo was listening intently. She had an urge to blurt out, ‘Yeah, why!’

“There were other people that worked to compel them. Three of the four were married and had abandoned their spouse. For them, the spouse was involved in the decision. However, my involvement was in administering the treatment, not in arranging for the person to be there.”

At this point Cynthia stood. “Your honor, I object to this line of questioning. Dr. Jensen is offering hearsay.”

“Your honor,” the other lawyer cut in, “this is only foundational. We will be presenting testimony from the individuals. Dr. Jensen’s testimony is important as she is one of the few people that have interacted with all of the victims of the extended time Revenge affliction.”

The judge paused for a few seconds. “Given the nature of what we are trying to achieve, I’ll allow this. But Mr. Jones, I expect to hear from the individuals that Dr. Jensen is describing. Please continue.”

“Thank you, your honor,” he replied. “Now, Dr. Jensen, have you met with any of these people since they were treated?”

“Yes, all of them.”

“And, after the fact, how did they feel about being treated.”

She turned and looked directly at Lo-Lo. “Every one of them thanked me for giving them their life back.”

“What about the four who were treated against their will?” the lawyer asked.

“They have been the most thankful,” Dr. Jensen answered.

Lo-Lo had known all this, but it scared her nevertheless. She suddenly had an image of Lois locked behind a door trying to get out. Lo-Lo knew she was doing the right thing. But what if she wasn’t?

“Thank you, Dr. Jensen.” And Mr. Jones went back to his desk.

Cynthia stood. “No questions.” Lo-Lo was glad that Cynthia had briefed her on the plan. Since they were not going to challenge the technical testimony, there were no issues of fact about which to ask Dr. Jensen.

“Doctor, you are dismissed,” the Judge said.

Mr. Jones had never sat down. “We call Clark Kent,”

Lo-Lo knew this was coming since Clark had been served with a subpoena. She was sure that Clark would never deliberately hurt her, but he had this bad habit of telling the exact truth no matter what. That might work against them.

The lawyer went after him as soon as he was sworn in. “Mr. Kent, what is your present relationship with Lois Lane?”

“We’re engaged to be married.”

“Isn’t it true that she also lives with you?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Prior to Lois being exposed to Revenge, were you engaged?”

“No.”

“Were you living together?”

“No.”

“Were you involved romantically?”

Clark hesitated. She could imagine him reviewing what she’d told him about her pre-Revenge feelings. “Not really,” he answered after several long seconds.

The layer paused for a second. “Mr. Kent, what does ‘Not Really’ mean? Were you and Lois Lane actively involved in a romantic relationship prior to her exposure to Revenge?”

Clark let out a long sigh. “No,” he said in a morose tone.

“Are you familiar with the behavior that Dr. Jensen described earlier as the norm for the initial exposure to Revenge?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Did you see how most people acted during the first 36 hours after they came in contact with the drug?”

“If you mean where the people would aggressively pursue the person with whom they became infatuated, then yes, I saw that at the Daily Planet.”

“During that attack on the Daily Planet, was Lois exposed?”

“Yes.”

“Who did Lois lock on to?”

“Me.”

“At the time, how did you feel about her behavior?”

“It was scary. I knew Lois wasn’t acting like herself. I did my best to keep things under control.”

“So you were in control of yourself?”

“Yes. By chance, I missed being exposed. I’m not sure how.”

“What did you do during that time? I mean with respect to Lois and her attentions.”

“I kept my distance.”

“Why?”

“She clearly wasn’t herself.”

“So you could see that a person under the influence of Revenge was not in control of their actions?”

“Based on what I saw, I’d have to agree with that.”

“Mr. Kent, have you seen the medical data from Lois’s tests?”

“Yes.”

“So you know that from a medical perspective, she is still suffering the effects of Revenge?”

“I know that the reports say that she hasn’t completely recovered. I also know that her behavior now is nothing like when she was first exposed.”

Lo-Lo expected the lawyer to challenge Clark on that last part, but instead he let it go by.

“Lois moved into your apartment on December 1,” the lawyer continued without missing a beat. “Do you believe that she would have done that had she not been exposed to Revenge?”

“No. She would not.”

“I’m done,” said Mr. Johnson.

Cynthia stood up and went over to Clark. “Mr. Kent, are you from Smallville, Kansas?”

“Yes.”

“Did you and Lois do a story from Smallville before she was exposed to Revenge?”

“Yes.”

“When the two of you were in Smallville, where did Lois stay?”

“We both stayed at my parent’s house.”

“So when Lois was at your parent’s house, where did she sleep?”

“In my old room,” he answered. Then he added quickly, “I slept on the sofa.”

“While you were in Smallville with Lois, did you go to the corn festival?”

Clark flashed his first big smile since he’d taken the stand. Lo-Lo had come to love the corn festival. They both viewed that Smallville trip as the first small beginning of their romantic relationship. Cynthia thought it would be critical since it established a pre-Revenge foundation for her most obvious post-Revenge decision.

“Yes. It was fun. We did the carnival events, the dance, everything.”

“So while you were on that assignment, you took Lois on a date to the corn festival?”

“Yes.”

“So before Revenge, your relationship was, if not romantic, more than just coworkers?”

“Yes.”

“And the two of you were interacting in ways that were foundational for a developing personal relationship.”

“Yes.”

“No more questions.”

Clark smiled brightly at Lo-Lo as he returned to his seat in the gallery. That seemed to go well.

“I call Perry White,” said Mr. Jones

Perry took the stand and was quickly sworn in. Mr. Jones wasted no time in getting started. “Mr. White, how long have you known Lois Lane?”

“Almost five years. I hired her right out of college.”

“Is she a good reporter?”

“She’s the best on my staff.”

“Prior to the Revenge exposure, did Lois usually work alone?”

“Usually, but not always. I have partnered her with other reporters from time to time.”

The lawyer offered Perry a sheet of paper. “Mr. White, here’s a list of articles from the Daily Planet. Please look at the list and tell me if it looks familiar.”

Perry took the list and looked at it for a moment. “This looks like a list of Lois’s work from early 1993.”

“Where did this come from?”

“As part of the proceeding, I was asked to prepare several lists of articles published in the Daily Planet that Lois authored. This is one of those.”

“Mr. White, this indicates that in the month of March 1993, Lois authored fifty-three articles. All of these are marked with Lois Lane as the only reporter. Does this seem correct based on your recollections of the publishing history of the Daily Planet and Lois’s contribution?”

“I believe that this list is correct.”

He handed Perry another list. “Mr. White, this list is from the month of October 1993. It indicates that in that span Lois authored fifty-seven articles. Forty-eight of these were solo and nine were co-authored with Mr. Kent. Please look at this list and tell us if it looks correct.”

Perry looked over the list. “It does.”

“Okay, one more list. I promise that this is the last one. This list covers the articles for the past month up through last Friday’s edition of the Planet. This indicates that this past month, Lois has been involved in forty-six articles. Of these, forty-one with Mr. Kent and five have been with Catherine Grant. Please examine this list.”

“This looks right.”

“Do you have an explanation for the recent lack of solo articles from Lois?”

“She’s had a hard time adjusting after Revenge.”

“Mr. White, do you know if Lois has ever been recognized for excellence in reporting?”

“Yes,” Perry answered, pride clearly present in his voice. “She’s won the Kerth award for exceptional journalism three years in a row. She’s always sworn she’ll win a Pulitzer.”

“Based on her body of work and she talent she showed in earning those Kerth awards, do you believe Lois Lane could win a Pulitzer?”

“Absolutely. She has the skill and the fire.”

“Fire?” the lawyer asked.

“Fire,” Perry reiterated. “Son, in the news business it isn’t enough to be a talented writer or even a good investigator. You have to have a drive… a hunger for getting to the bottom of things. You have to eat and breathe your profession and commitment. That’s fire.”

The lawyer paused as if considering a follow up, but after only a second or so, he moved on. “Mr. White, who is Lo-Lo?”

Lo-Lo felt her mouth drop. Somehow, she hadn’t expected to hear that name during the trial today.

Perry hesitated for a long time. “That is Lois’s nickname in the office.”

“When was the first time you heard her use the name Lo-Lo?”

“The day after everyone else recovered from Revenge.”

“Since she has been going by Lo-Lo, have you ever heard her speak of Lois as if she were another person?”

Perry hesitated again. He looked like he was in pain.

“Mr. White,” the lawyer said, more intently this time. “Have you heard her speak of Lois as if she were someone else?”

“Yes,” Perry replied reluctantly. “But it just makes it easier for her to differentiate the time before Revenge.”

“Of course,” the lawyer said, his voice thick with disbelief. “Let me clarify an earlier point. Lois only started using this different name — Lo-Lo — after the Revenge attack. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Perry admitted in a defeated tone.

“Mr. White, in your professional opinion, in her present condition, does… Lo-Lo have what it takes to ever win a Pulitzer?”

Perry simply sat mute.

“Mr. White. Consider that the whole point of this hearing is to do what’s best for Lois. We are trying to determine if being under the influence of Revenge has affected her in a negative way. So, in her present condition, will she win that Pulitzer?”

“No.” Perry answered, barely above a whisper. “She’s lost the fire.”

***

Chapter 7 — Consequence

As Cynthia stood and asked Perry some follow-up questions, Lo-Lo found that Perry’s words continued to echo in her ears. “She’s lost the fire.” Perry was saying that she wasn’t the award-winning reporter that she’d been before Revenge.

But she was so happy. Did she have to be miserable — like she was when she was living Lois’s life — to be a good reporter? Now that she thought about it, Perry had been telling her all along. Not only was she no longer the best, she wasn’t even good enough to get a solo article accepted for print. It hadn’t come up when he was on the stand, but she’d probably submitted twenty or more stories of her own to Perry over the last month. He’d rejected all of them. He’d been kind — maybe too kind — in the way he rejected her stories. However, now it was clear that he was rejecting them because she wasn’t working up to his standards. She’d thought it was just her writing style, but now she knew it was more.

“Samantha Smith, please take the stand.”

Mr. Jones voice snapped her out of it. Samantha Smith? Who was this? Did Cynthia finish with Perry already? Before Lo-Lo could ask Cynthia what had happened, the door at the back of the courtroom opened and a pretty young blonde woman came in. Lo-Lo watched her as she was sworn in. She looked like she didn’t want to be here any more than Lo-Lo did.

“Ms. Smith, do you have any experience with Revenge?” Mr. Jones asked.

“Yes. I work as a production assistant for Concepts advertising. I was in the Daily Planet offices the day that Miranda released Revenge in that area.”

“What was your reaction to the chemical?” Mr. Jones seemed to have softened his voice. When he’d questioned Clark and Perry, there was an edge to his voice. Now he sounded much friendlier.

“My memory of the incident is kind of fuzzy. I’m one of the people that ended up with partial memory loss. What I do remember was a feeling of attraction and arousal for Jason.”

“Who is Jason?”

“Jason Casey, one of the photographers that worked on the shoot.”

“Did you know him very well before that day?”

“He was a regular contractor for my company. I’d worked with him off and on for nearly a year. A few times, we’d been part of the same group that went out for drinks after we finished a shoot.”

“So you were casual friends.”

“Yes, but that was all. We’d never been on a date or anything.”

“But things changed that day?”

“Yes. I remember that before that day, I’d found him attractive, but I was too shy to tell him. That day he was much more than that. He was the sexiest, most virile man I’d ever seen. All I could think of was that I had to do whatever I could to get him into bed.”

“Are you aware that is the normal reaction for a person that’s just been exposed to Revenge?”

“I know that now.”

“What happened after the initial dose of Revenge wore off.”

“The details are fuzzy, but I remember that I’d convinced Jason to take me to his place. We were there almost continuously for more than a day. The second morning I remember waking up feeling different. It wasn’t just about sex anymore. I remember thinking how lucky I was that Jason had accepted me. I was in love and wanted to be with him forever. In fact, I proposed to him that morning.”

Lo-Lo felt a chill run through her at the similarity of that point.

“But you didn’t get married?” Mr. Jones continued.

“No. He put me off and suggested we just live together for a while. I remember being disappointed, but as long as I could be with Jason, I was happy to be with him on whatever terms he wanted.”

“How did your friends and family react to your new relationship?”

“My friends were mostly supportive. Some of them commented that I didn’t seem to be acting like myself, but there wasn’t any obvious change. I had more trouble concentrating on work, especially when I’d been away from Jason for a long time. My family didn’t like him at all. They thought he was taking advantage of me.”

“When did you find out that you were one of the people for whom Revenge didn’t wear off?”

“Lex Labs contacted me a few days after the attack. About two weeks later they told me that I was still under the influence.”

“Did Lex Labs contact you after they developed a cure?”

“Yes. Dr. Jensen called me personally.”

“What was your reaction when she told you that there was a cure?”

“I refused it. I loved being with Jason and didn’t want to give that up.”

Lo-Lo could hardly believe how similar their stories were. No wonder they put this girl on the stand. Her experiences mirrored Lo-Lo’s own.

“Did anyone try to change your mind?”

“Yes. All my family. I refused them all. I was convinced that they just didn’t understand how much I was in love.”

“What finally happened?”

“About 10 days ago my sister convinced me to get a flu shot. But she’d tricked me and it was actually the Revenge antidote. My family had bribed one of Dr. Jensen’s assistants and convinced him to steal a dose of the Revenge antidote. Dr. Jensen was really angry when she found out and she’s been very supportive in my care since then.”

“Your sister and family… Did they know that you didn’t want the treatment?”

“Yes. They all, especially my sister, acted against my wishes.”

“How do you feel about your sister now?”

“I thank her every day for freeing me.”

“What is the status of your relationship with Jason?”

“When I look back at it now, the whole thing with him feels like a terrible nightmare. It’s like I was riding along in my body but I didn’t have control. It was sort of like sitting in the back seat of a car with a crazy person driving. That person, the person I was under Revenge, couldn’t see how wrong it all was. How wrong he was. I’ll never forgive him for taking advantage of me. He knew what he was doing and knew that I couldn’t help myself. Knowing all that, he used me. I’ll hate him for the rest of my life.”

“We are here to try to get Ms. Lane over there to take the Revenge antidote. Do you have anything that you would tell her based on your experience?

She looked at Lo-Lo. “I’m the one person here who knows how you feel. I’m sorry to tell you this, but it isn’t real. Think about it, if you were really that into him, you would have done something before. I understand that in your present condition, you won’t believe me, but I’m telling you the truth. Get the antidote and get your real life back.”

“No further questions.”

Cynthia got up. “Ms. Smith, I am sorry that you are having to recall this. I’ll keep my questions brief.”

Samantha simply nodded.

“You said that prior to Revenge, you had only a casual relationship with Jason?”

“That’s right.”

“So you hadn’t been to his home town or met his parents?”

“No.”

“If you had been working closely with him for several months… If you had been comfortable enough with him so that you had stayed with him on a field assignment… Do you think it might have been different?”

“Maybe. But none of that happened.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

“Ms. Smith, you are dismissed,” the judge said. Then he looked up at the clock. “It’s just about lunchtime. We’ll break now and reconvene at one o’clock.”

***

Lois sat with Clark at a sandwich shop down the block from the courthouse. She’d barely absorbed Perry’s testimony when that girl threw her for a loop. Now she was here with Clark and he looked like he was more out of it than she was.

“Clark, are you okay?” she asked.

He looked up at her. He worried a lot, but the stress was extra evident on his face. “Not really. I’m trying to absorb all this.”

She squeezed his hand. “You heard what Cynthia said when we broke for lunch. The fact that I changed after Revenge is not a legal basis for stripping me of my rights. For something that drastic, they have to establish that I’m a risk to myself or to others. Failing that, they have to show that I’m clearly impaired in some way. Unless they have something much more compelling, the judge should have no choice but to rule in my favor.” Lo-Lo paused for a moment. “Clark, did you hear me?”

“That girl…”

“You mean Samantha?

“That was so wrong. She was violated.”

“But she’s not me. We had a relationship.”

“Did we? Lois, I love you but the similarities between your story and hers are scary.”

She let his use of her ‘Lois’ name pass. “You’re right. If it was just my judgment, then I wouldn’t trust my feelings. But I remember how I felt before. I remember what we did together before.” She looked at Clark hopefully. After several seconds, she could tell that he was not going to smile. “But that’s not enough is it?” she finally asked.

He looked up and she could tell that he was forcing himself to try to smile for her. “Yes… No… I don’t know.” Then his head dropped back to the table. “Honey, I keep hearing those words.”

“Words?” she asked.

“What Samantha said, ‘I’ll hate him for the rest of my life.’ But it’s you I hear speaking those words.” Then he looked up at her. “I want you to have the best life possible. I want you to be happy. But what if there’s a part of you inside that is crying to get out?” Then barely above a whisper. “…what if the part of you that’s Lois is crying to get away from me?”

He was too good a person for this. She knew that she had to reassure him that their relationship was real. “Clark…”

But suddenly Clark looked at his watch in panic. “Lo, I just remembered. Superman is supposed to make an appearance at an orphanage at 12:00 noon today. With all that’s happened, I forgot until just now.”

“Will you be able to be back for the afternoon session?” she asked.

“Yes. This is only supposed to go on for an hour.”

“Then go. Other people need you, too.”

He stood, but before he left, he turned back, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she called as he hurried away. But as she sat there alone, she couldn’t help but think that given the nature of their situation, love might not be enough.

***

Clark loved to help in places like the Metropolis Children’s Home, but today he wished they’d just finish. After he’d made his appearance and the appeal for help for the orphans, he’d been obligated to stay around so that other dignitaries and officials had their chance. It should have taken 20 minutes, but now it was less than five minutes to 1:00 and they were still making speeches.

When the clock hit three minutes to one, he decided it was time to go. He stood suddenly, “I’m sorry,” he said, interrupting the orphanage director who had been speaking. “I’m needed elsewhere right now.” He didn’t wait for a reply and used some super speed to get himself to the courthouse in only a few seconds.

By the time Clark made it back into the courtroom, everyone else was in place. Lo was whispering intently with Cynthia and didn’t see him arrive. He’d barely sat when the bailiff told them all to stand for the judge. When the judge was ready, he turned to Mr. Jones. “Are you ready to continue?”

At that point Cynthia stood. “Your honor, Ms. Lane would like to address the court.”

The judge looked at Mr. Jones. “Any objection?”

Jones whispered to Lo’s mom for a second the replied, “No objection.”

“Go ahead Ms. Lane,” the judge said to Lo.

Lo stood. Clark could see how nervous she was. “Well, first off, for the record I’m not happy that I could be brought to court with the potential to have my rights stripped in this way. I am an intelligent adult and feel that I can defend my decisions. However, the proceedings this morning made an impression, and I am ready to undergo the procedure to reverse the effects of Revenge. I make this offer on the condition that upon receiving the treatment, this action will be dismissed with prejudice.”

Clark had to fight the impulse to jump up and yell, “No.” What was Lo doing? Didn’t she realize that in a very real sense, curing Revenge could cost Lo her life? Clark calmed himself and noticed that Mrs. Lane and her lawyer had been whispering. Before Clark could even think to listen in, Mr. Jones stood. “Your honor, Mrs. Lane is ready to agree to those terms. Since this action is limited to compelling her daughter to get this treatment, once that occurs, our action in front of this court is moot.”

“How long does the treatment take?” the judge asked.

Mr. Jones checked a paper on the table in front of him. “The treatment is a simple injection. However, there are side effects while the treatment is taking effect that require the presence of a medical staff. It would be best if this were done in a hospital environment. We can set it up for this afternoon so that Lois can be monitored overnight. There is every reason to believe that the entire treatment will have run its course by 9:00 am tomorrow.”

“Ms. Lane. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m sure,” she said solemnly.

“Then we will reconvene at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon,” the judge replied. “If Ms. Lane has gone through with the procedure, we will dismiss the proceeding. So unless there is something else…”

“I’d like to say one more thing,” Lo cut in.

“Go ahead Ms. Lane.”

“I’m doing this because Clark asked me to. He’s always wanted me to get the treatment and has been worried from the very beginning that he was taking advantage of me. I was the one that didn’t want the procedure. I like my new life and I love Clark. I’m scared to death that if I get — fixed — then I’ll lose everything that matters. But now I realize I can’t keep hiding.” Then she turned to face her mom. “He’s a better person that you can possibly imagine.” Then she turned back to the judge. “That’s all I wanted to say. Thank you.”

“Court is adjourned,” the judge said sharply.

***

Lo had been exceptionally quiet after they left the courtroom. When they arrived at their apartment, there was a message waiting. She was due to check into Memorial General Hospital. Dr. Jensen was already there with her staff. They would begin the procedure as soon as she checked in.

They arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later. They would have been there sooner, but Lo had insisted they stop at the Daily Planet so she could give Perry some papers.

At the hospital, they entered through the emergency room and went to an admitting office. Lo’s mom and Dr. Jensen were there waiting.

“That’s all you packed?” Mrs. Lane exclaimed looking at Lo’s small overnight bag.

“It’s only one night.” Lo defended.

“But you know you probably won’t want to go back to his apartment.”

“It’s our apartment. Besides, I’m not going to hate Clark when this is over.”

“But… I thought… Lois, you heard what that Samantha girl said.”

“Yes,” Lo said calmly. “And I talked to her during the lunch break. It was different.”

Mrs. Lane tried to pursue the issue but Lo’s refusal to say any more finally quieted her down. It took another ten minutes to complete the admission forms but they were finally ready. When they’d finished the forms Dr. Jensen turned to Lo. “You’ll need to remove all your jewelry,” she said.

Lo took off her necklace and her earrings and put them in her overnight bag.

“You ring too,” the doctor added.

“Can’t I please keep just this on?” she pleaded.

“No. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow it.”

She reluctantly pulled it off. She started to put it with the other jewelry, but suddenly turned to Clark. “Please hold this. Since I can’t be with you tonight, will you promise to keep this with you?”

“I’ll keep it close,” Clark promised.

“I’ll take you to your room,” Dr. Jensen said. “We can start the treatment as soon as you change clothes.”

Clark started to follow behind but Dr. Jensen stopped him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kent. I can’t allow anyone else in the room while we’re administering the treatment.”

“But I want him there,” Lo-Lo pleaded.

“I understand,” Dr. Jensen said in a tone that made Clark believe that she meant it. “But I can’t allow it.” The doctor turned back to Clark. “Come back later this evening. Lois will be in room 137. Depending on how she responds to the treatment, and if she wants to see you, then you may be able to visit for a few minutes.”

Lo turned to Dr. Jensen. “Could you give me and Clark a minute?”

“Sure,” she replied. She stepped out of the room leaving Lo and Clark alone.

As soon as the door was closed, Lo threw herself into his arms. “I’m scared,” she told him.

“Me too,” Clark admitted.

“If I don’t come out on the other side…”

“Lo, don’t say that. You’ll be fine.”

“This body will be fine. But I might not survive. In case that happens, I want you to know how much I love you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “The world may call you Superman, but they have no idea how truly good you really are. You are the best thing that could have ever happened to me and I’m the luckiest woman in the world just to have shared your love for these few weeks.”

“Lo… I wish there was some other way. If… I don’t know how I’ll go on without you.”

Without a word, Lo let go and went quickly out the door. Clark stood in a stunned silence for a few minutes then started out. On his way through the emergency room, he heard a report of a massive car pileup at the edge of town. He headed out the door so that Superman could be the person Lo loved.

***

It was well after 6:00 p.m. by the time Clark made it back to the hospital. The car accident was a mess with many people injured and trapped in their cars. In many cases, Clark had flown the car to the hospital with the injured people still inside.

After he was finished at the accident site, he did a quick patrol of Metropolis and ended up sitting on the top of the LexCorp tower television mast. Clark did enjoy the irony of sitting on top of everything that Luthor held most dear, but the truth of the matter was that he simply loved that view of Metropolis.

When he arrived, the hospital seemed busy, so Clark headed right for Lois’s room. He was just down the hall when he heard the unmistakable sound of Lois’s voice in distress. He rushed to the door of her room and looked through the small window in the door. Lois was in the hospital bed and seemed very upset. She was yelling at Dr. Jensen…

“Let me out of here!” There was venom in her voice that he couldn’t remember ever hearing before.

Dr. Jensen was trying to reason with her. “Lois, you have to try to remain calm. Remember that we talked about this.”

“You can’t keep me here,” she yelled. “I have things to do. I need to find that son-of-a-bitch!”

“Lois, please, this isn’t helping.”

“The coward! Where is Clark!?”

“I told you. I asked him to stay away.”

In that instant something changed and Lois’s screams turned to cries of anguish. “How could he betray me like this? He… he took such advantage of me. He used me… He used me over and over. I thought… I thought he was my friend.”

Dr. Jensen took advantage of Lois’s change from anger to anguish to comfort her. “Lois, you will get through this. You need to focus on being calm.”

Lois’s despair seemed to flash suddenly back to anger as she turned and looked intently at Dr. Jensen. “You be calm! You weren’t the one who was betrayed by a friend. You try being used the way I was and see how you like it.”

Then Lois turned her head away from Dr. Jensen. In the process of moving her head, her vision locked on Clark. Her eyes went wide and Clark could see her rage boiling. “You bastard! I hate you!”

Dr. Jensen’s head spun around and she saw him. She rushed to the door. “Mr. Kent, I told you to check with me first. You can’t be here. Leave now!”

Clark fled as quickly as he could without using any of his powers. As he hurried out of the hospital, he couldn’t manage to tune out Lois’s shouting voice echoing from behind him.

“I know you can hear me!” His super hearing and sensitivity to her voice made it sound like she was right behind him. “I thought you were my friend! Lo-Lo’s gone! You hear me? She’s gone for good and I’ll hate you forever!”

***

Chapter 8 — Perspective

Clark had never been in this place before. There was a stark beauty to the area, but he never realized before how nice quiet could be. It was too bad it didn’t appear that he could freeze to death. That would probably be best for everyone.

As near as he could tell, he was a few hundred miles from the South Pole. The Antarctic summer meant that he wasn’t sitting in the dark, but that wasn’t the point. When he’d fled the hospital with Lois’s voice echoing behind him, he’d wanted to get as far away from everyone as he possibly could. He’d succeeded in that, but he’d failed to get away from himself.

He’d been wrong in the worst possible way. He’d hoped that what Lo had told him about her feelings before Revenge had been true. But now, that had been exposed for the fantasy that he’d always feared. Lois, the one person that he’d ever met that he most wanted to like him, was going to hate him forever.

He’d let his parents down. He’d let himself down. But worst of all, he’d let her down.

What were his parents going to say? When he’d taken Lo to Smallville for Christmas, it had been so great. His mom had loved being able to talk with her about him. Really talk, not just the parts that everyone else knew about. Both of his parents knew that he and Lo had started their relationship with the cloud of Miranda’s Revenge over them. But Lo had convinced them of how she felt as thoroughly as she’d convinced him.

He’d lost track of how long he’d been here. When you’re at the South Pole, you can’t exactly use the sun to tell the time. At least, you can’t if you don’t know how to interpret the sun’s position against the landscape. If he’d thought about it, he should have brought a watch. Then again, it would certainly have frozen.

Still, it had been long enough. He had to be ready when Lois came looking for a reckoning. After what he’d done, he owed her whatever price she deemed necessary. She already had Superman’s secret identity. He hoped that for his parent’s sake, she would keep that secret. But that secret, along with as full and complete interview as he could grant, would almost certainly get Lois that Pulitzer that she wanted.

It was time to start getting his affairs in order. He took off and headed north. In less than a minute he’d found his bearings and another few seconds later he was landing in Smallville. It was still dark and not even the other local farmers were awake yet to see Superman landing at the Kent farm. Clark retrieved the spare key and let himself in. The kitchen clock told him that it was 5:00 a.m. Good, he could wake up his parents and it would only be slightly earlier than normal.

He went upstairs to their room and knocked lightly on the doorframe. “Mom, Dad, it’s Clark.”

He heard his dad’s voice. “Clark, what are you doing here at this time of the night?”

“Hi, Dad. I need to talk to you and mom. Could you please get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”

“Sure, son. Give us a minute and we’ll be right down.”

Clark took advantage of the delay to change and look around his old room. Lois had slept here during that story where Bureau 39 was digging up the Irig farm. Clark’s eyes lingered on the double bed that had replaced the single that Lois had used that first visit. When he and Lo had spent those days here at Christmas, the single bed was simply too small. Clark felt himself choking up and sensed the tears starting to flow again. He was going to miss her so much.

By the time his parents came down, Clark had regained some of the composure that he’d lost in his room. Martha came right over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Clark, what’s wrong?”

“Lois got the anti-Revenge treatment. Lo’s gone.”

“What?!” Martha exclaimed. “I can’t believe she lost that competency hearing. What do they use for rights in Metropolis?”

“She didn’t lose. But the trial showed her the parts of Lois’s life that she’d lost. Then there was this woman. She was just like Lois in that Revenge had kept working on her. She told the story of how she hated the man she’d been with, and how it ruined her life. That part scared me and I think my fear drove Lo to get the antidote.”

“Can you back up a little and tell us exactly what happened?” Jonathan asked.

Clark sighed heavily and sat down. “I’d say that her decision was because of the testimony of just two people. There was that girl that I just told you about and Perry. The other lawyer asked Perry all about how Lo was as a reporter compared to Lois. He got Perry to admit that she’d lost much of what made her great. Perry ended up admitting that she’d lost the fire that she’d had before Revenge. I think that got to her nearly as much as my reaction to the girl. After the lunch break, Lois volunteered to get the treatment to reverse Revenge.”

“I know that you wanted her to get the treatment all along,” Martha said. “You’re clearly upset, so there must be more than you’ve said so far.”

“We… I always hoped that Lois’s recovery would be a good thing. I hoped she’d be happy about our relationship. But… well, I went back to the hospital later yesterday evening to see her. When I got there, the Lo part of her seemed to be completely gone. And Lois… she was very angry. When she saw me she said… she said that I’d betrayed her. She said that she’ll hate me forever. I can’t get her voice out of my head.”

“Surely she didn’t mean it that way,” Martha offered. “We talked a lot over Christmas. I was worried that what you and Lois were doing was a mistake. But she talked all about how she’d viewed you before the Revenge. I’m sure that she really cared for you, and it wasn’t just the drug.”

“That’s what I thought… what I hoped,” Clark said. He paused for a moment. “That girl at the trial who I mentioned a moment ago, her name was Samantha, well after she was cured of Revenge she regretted everything she’d done. And she hated the guy she’d been in love with during that time. From what I saw in the hospital last night, it looks like Lois is going to be the same way.”

“What are you going to do?” his dad asked.

“Go back to Metropolis and face her.”

***

It was 6:45 a.m. when the elevator door opened providing Clark entry to the Daily Planet bullpen. There was some activity, but nothing like it would be in another hour or so. Given that Lois would be home today, Clark had to wonder if this was the last time he’d ever stand here. He already knew that he was going to offer to quit the Planet and leave Metropolis, if that was what Lois wanted. Given what had happened, she wouldn’t want to continue working with him.

A clacking of heels drew his attention. “Cat? What are you doing here this early?”

She looked up and smiled. “Clark, you know me better than that. You should have asked why I’m in the office so late. I had a long night and it’s only just ending.”

That brought the first hint of a smile to Clark’s face since he’d seen Lois in the hospital. “Sorry, I should have known.”

“No worries,” she replied. “Where’s Lo-Lo? I didn’t see either of you after that court travesty her mom forced on her. I have a lead on that post office call girl ring that she and I were working on.”

“Lo… Lois is at the hospital. She decided to get the Revenge antidote.”

Cat had been standing next to her chair. At this news she dropped into it heavily. “Why?” she asked in disbelief.

“Stuff that came up in court,” Clark answered. “I’d rather not talk about it. Lois got the treatment last night, and based on what I saw afterwards, Lo is gone.”

“What you saw afterwards?” Cat asked.

“I saw Lois in the hospital. I was looking through a window in the door to her room. She was very angry… at me. When she saw me she… she started yelling. She… wasn’t happy.”

Cat reached over and took his hand in a comforting gesture. “I’m so sorry. Lo-Lo really loved you. She’d matured so much in these weeks. I was beginning to think that Lois was right there with her. Except for Lo-Lo being so cheerful and nice, I swear that I was working with Lois. Based on everything I saw, I would have sworn that even if the old Lois came back, you two would remain together.”

“Thanks, Cat. But that’s not how it worked out.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I need to talk with Perry. Based on what Lois wants, I might not be around anymore.”

Cat looked like she wanted to say something but ended up merely nodding. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading for Perry’s office.

Perry’s presence this early came as no surprise. Clark knocked lightly and Perry motioned him to come in. “Did Lois talk to you yesterday afternoon?” Clark asked, as soon as he was in the office.

“Yes. I’m not sure what to think of it. I know that Lo didn’t want to take the antidote. But to tell the truth, I wasn’t that shocked that she decided to go ahead either. I thought that the two of you would be in together after she got out of the hospital.”

“That was the plan. But based on her reaction to seeing me last night after the treatment, I think it would be best if someone else picked her up.”

“What happened,” Perry asked.

“Lois… well, she doesn’t seem to be happy with the way our relationship changed while she was under the influence of Revenge.”

“You knew that was a possibility right from the first,” Perry reminded him.

“Yes. And I won’t duck the consequences. But for this morning, I think you’re the right person to get her from the hospital if you can get away.”

Perry took a moment before he responded. “Do you know what this is about,” Perry asked, holding the two envelopes that Lo had carried into the Planet yesterday.

“No,” Clark replied. “I thought it might be an assignment. All I know is that she wanted to drop it off before we went to the hospital.”

“I don’t know what it is either,” Perry admitted. “There’s a small envelope for me to open after she’s out of the hospital. I guess it contains instructions for what to do with the larger envelope.”

“It’s almost like Lo gave you her will,” Clark speculated morosely.

“Son, I know this hurts, and I’m sorry, but we both knew that if there was any way to give Lois her life back, you had to give her that chance.” They were both quiet for a moment until Perry finally asked, “What time should I pick her up?”

“Nine this morning,” Clark answered,

Perry checked his watch. “I’ll be there. She’s at Memorial General?”

“Yes. And thanks Chief. I’ll be cleaning up here and I’ll be in my apartment if Lois want’s to find… or avoid me. I don’t want to make a scene here.”

“You’ll be cleaning up?” Perry asked.

“I have to assume that she’s going to ask me to leave. I need to get my ongoing stories ready for you to reassign.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Perry offered.

“You didn’t see her.”

***

It was after 9:30. Where was Lois? The waiting now was something of a change of pace for his morning. He’d been using his super speed rather freely until just a few minutes ago. He’d had to be careful — using it there in the office — but it had come in handy for categorizing his working notes. There were now five clearly marked piles on the top of his desk. Each pile had a cover sheet detailing the state of that investigation. He’d also included notes on what he believed to be the remaining steps to bring each investigation to fruition.

Here at home, he’d used that speed to make sure the apartment was as clean as he could make it for Lois. Being here was really the hardest part. After living here for all these weeks, her scent permeated the place. In the past, Clark had always loved the fact that even when she wasn’t home, just walking in the door reminded him of their life together. This morning, all it did was remind him of those last words, “I’ll hate you forever.”

He glanced toward the entryway. There were three large suitcases packed and ready to go. Lo had insisted on giving up her apartment just before they’d learned of the Revenge antidote, so all her stuff was here or in storage. She’d need a place to live, and he was clearly not going to be part of that. The suitcases were there as a visible olive branch. He was abandoning his apartment to her and moving out and on.

Despite the waiting, Clark was startled just a bit when he heard a key slide into the lock. The door opened and there she was. He stood as she started walking slowly across the room toward her. “Lois, I’m sorry that it’s come to this,” he offered.

“What,” she said, apparently confused.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said. And then his words kept rolling out. “I really did think you wanted us to be in a relationship. You were so convincing. I should have known better but I…”

By the time he’d run out of words, he was standing right in front of her. Then without warning, she dropped her bag, lunged at him and threw her arms around him. He was so in shock that his own arms just hung at his side.

“Clark, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

Now it was his turn to be confused. “What?” he asked.

She broke the hug and pushed back a bit. Her hands were still there on his shoulders and she didn’t seem upset. “I don’t hate you,” she said seriously.

He knew that should make him feel better, and to some extent it did, but his confusion was getting in the way. “But last night in the hospital…”

“You didn’t see what you thought you did,” she said abruptly.

“But you said…” he stuttered. “And I heard you yelling as I was leaving the hospital.”

Lois let out a long sigh. “Do you know why Dr. Jensen told you to stay away?”

“I figured it was to try to avoid something like what happened. We both heard Samantha. Once she was clear of Revenge, she hated the man she’d been seeing. I figured that the doctor wanted to be able to talk to you first and find out if you wanted to see me.”

“That was part of it, but there was something else.” She paused and looked around for a second. “Can we sit down? I have a feeling that we have a lot to talk about.”

She didn’t wait for his reply. She picked up her overnight bag and headed for the chair in the main living area. As soon as Lois sat down, she pulled an envelope out of her overnight bag and put it on the coffee table.

“What’s that?” Clark asked as he sat down on the sofa across from her.

“Those are the lab results showing that I’m free of Revenge and my brain is back working normally.”

“Oh,” was all Clark could think to say.

“You never got briefed on the details of how the Revenge cure worked, did you?” Lois asked.

“No. We… Wait, how’s your memory? Do you remember the time you were under the influence of Revenge?”

“I remember everything,” she replied.

“Then you must remember that we never wanted to look into it.”

“Yes, I remember,” she answered. “Dr. Jensen insisted on briefing me yesterday before she gave me the antidote. Her team found a chemical mixture that affects the amygdala in the opposite way as Revenge. It stimulates the anger and rage centers. They found that after a few hours of that imbalance, the amygdala went back to normal. The excessive rage also caused the ACC to have to work extra hard to clamp down on the processing of that rage. That seemed to bring it back to normal as well. Do you understand what that means?”

“Not really,” Clark replied half-heartedly.

“It means that during the treatment, a person is going to be angry. It also means that person is no more responsible for what they say or do than a person would be during an initial exposure to Revenge.”

Not responsible for what they say… Maybe there was still a chance for them. “So you really don’t hate me?”

She smiled. “No. I’m not sure it’s possible for me to hate you. Not with all my memories intact.”

“After what I heard last night in the hospital, I was sure you were going to have the same reaction as Samantha,” Clark commented.

“I should have told you this part yesterday.” Lois said, as she shook her head. “Remember when I told my mom that I’d talked to Samantha during the lunch break?” She paused long enough for Clark to nod. “Well, it turned out that her situation was not as much like ours as it looked. She’d never had a real relationship with that guy. And he really was taking advantage of her. The problem wasn’t just Revenge. The problem was that the guy was a slime ball and the Revenge kept her from seeing it. Once I talked to her, and heard the rest of the story, I decided to go for it. I knew how careful of my feelings you’d been all along. And I feared that we’d never be able to get anywhere in our relationship with Revenge in the way.”

Those words, combined with her genuine smile, finally broke the tension he’d been feeling. He felt a wave of relief followed closely by a wave of fatigue as he released the stress he’d been holding in. It was really true that Lois didn’t hate him. Whatever followed now, that fact was the most important. However, just because she didn’t hate him, didn’t mean that she wanted to continue their relationship. “I’m glad,” he said finally. “I couldn’t bear you hating me. I’m also glad that you have your memories. I was scared to death that you’d be one of those people who lost their memory of their time on Revenge. I think that would have been almost as bad as if you had ended up ha… mad at me.”

“I had a plan,” she replied. “Perry told you about that envelope I gave him?”

“Sure, he asked me about it this morning.”

“It contains a diary of my… Lo-Lo’s time with you. I wrote it as a message for myself. That way, if the amnesia did occur, I’d have my own account of what had happened while I was… missing. There’s a note asking Perry to try his hardest to get me to read it. I gave it to him because I figured that if I had amnesia, he’d be the person I trusted most.”

“That was brilliant,” Clark observed. “That was part of how I always knew you — I mean Lois — were there. Lo may have lacked your intensity, but the Lois Lane intellect was right there every day. Do you think it would have worked?”

“I hope so. I tried to include the important stuff. For example, Lex has his own section. I wanted to make sure that what you told me, and what I’d seen, didn’t get lost. Cat has her own section too. But that one is more about keeping that friendship going.”

“Do you think you will want to?” Clark asked.

“I think so. But I’m not sure it will work. Being Lo-Lo was sort of like living in a sugary fog. Without that fog, many of the wilder things she does are going to annoy me again.”

“I think you made Cat a better person,” Clark said. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, the whole you could be even better for her than Lo was. So what else was in your letter to yourself?”

“There’s note after note about how cautious you tried to be about what I — Lois — would want. “

“I did try,” Clark confirmed. “I wasn’t sure that I always succeeded in finding a balance between what you… Lo wanted, what I wanted, and what I thought you as Lois would want.”

He paused but she said nothing. “Now that you’re yourself again, do you know what you want? Clark asked.

“I want to know who I am,” she answered. “I’m not sure I can be her anymore.”

“You mean Lo? I wouldn’t expect you to be,” Clark tried to reassure her.

“No. Without Revenge in my system, I don’t think I could ever be Lo-Lo. What I mean is that I’m not sure I can be Lois anymore.” There was a hint of fear in her voice.

He moved so he could see her face. “I don’t understand. You are Lois. The test results…”

She tilted her head to indicate the envelope with the results. “Those say that my brain is working correctly. But the Lois I used to be… the Lois you fell in love with… the Lois from before Revenge… she’s gone as surely as Lo-Lo.”

What was she saying? “Lois, I don’t understand. I… You’re scaring me.”

She leaned back into the overstuffed chair and stared at him intently. “You’re the problem,” she said.

“Please, Lois, I’ll help any way I can but I really don’t understand.”

She stood and walked across the room. When she reached the far wall, she stood there for a minute before turning to face Clark. “Last night I remember yelling at you that Lo-Lo was gone forever. When I walked in that door a few minutes ago…” she glanced at the front door to the apartment, “…and saw you, and I felt my reaction, I became sure that the Lois you knew before Revenge is just as gone.”

She paused, but since he was still lost, he just waited for her to continue.

“Old Lois was a loner,” she continued. “She knew that she had to fight everyone and everything because no one cared about anyone but themselves. That Lois also knew that love was only for fairy tales. Then some magic happened, and for six weeks this cynical woman got to live in one of those fairy tales. She found herself in a world where she had real friends that cared about her. She found a real-life Prince Charming that loved her so much that he’d give up everything he had for her.”

Clark found himself blushing at her comparison. “Aren’t all those good things?,” Clark asked.

“Of course,” she said abruptly. “That’s the problem. I’m Lois again, but I don’t want my old life back.” Then she paused for a second. “No, that’s not true. I want part of my old life but I also want what Lo-Lo had. While I was under the influence — while I was Lo-Lo — I knew how good that life was. That’s why I fought so hard to avoid the cure. But me — Lois — I don’t know if I can live that life. Lo-Lo had all that, but I’m not sure I can.”

“You can have as much of that life as you want,” Clark countered. “Cat was telling me just this morning that she saw the real Lois all the time and enjoyed working with you. Perry… Well, Perry does want that aggressive edginess back in your work, but I’m sure you can get that without sacrificing yourself.”

She considered that for a moment. “What about you, Clark? What do you want?”

“I want you to be happy.”

“That’s not an answer,” she barked, her voice thick with irritation. “You know what I’m asking.”

Her look left no doubts in his mind that she was demanding a much more complete and direct answer. This was raw Lois Lane. It was a look that he’d never really seen from Lo. There’d been a few flashes, but it was like comparing a shock of static electricity to a bolt of lightning. “You said that you have all your memories,” he replied. “If you do, you know what I want.”

“Tell me,” she threw right back at him.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Lois, I want you. I have from the beginning and I can’t imagine a future where that isn’t true. If you want me to spell it out, I love you.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want Lo?”

“Of course I want Lo,” he replied sharply. Then he took a second to calm down. The full Lois was much better at getting on his nerves. “We never talked about why I preferred to call you Lo instead of Lo-Lo like you wanted me to.”

“It was easier to say?” she suggested in a sarcastic tone.

“No. It was so that I never lost sight of the fact that the person I was with was only one half of the woman I fell in love with.” Clark paused for a moment. “But what about you? The reason that we got involved the way we did is that you — as Lo — convinced me that you — as Lois — had started to want… me. Can you at least tell me the truth about that? As Lois sees it?”

That request seemed to put her on the defensive. “The things that I said about how I felt before Revenge were all true.” She said softly.

“So can you believe that it’s you — the whole you — that I really want to be with?” Clark asked, half-afraid.

She seemed to be considering how to respond. After a moment she started back across the room. But this time she went by the chair and sat on the sofa next to him. She reached over and gently took his hand. She stared at it for a long moment doing nothing but rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand. “There’s something else in that diary that I gave Perry,” she said as she lifted her eyes to meet her own. “I always knew that you were in love with the Lois version of me, not the simplified person that was Lo-Lo. When I was Lo-Lo, knowing that you wanted something that I couldn’t be… That was the only thing you did that ever caused me pain.”

“So where does that leave us?” Clark asked hopefully.

Her expression turned thoughtful. “There’s this girl I met a few weeks ago. She has a name a lot like mine. She told me that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.” Lois paused to let that sink in for just a second.

Then Lois leaned toward him in a gesture that he hoped he was reading correctly. The kiss started out tentative and hesitant. Here was a woman he’d been sleeping with for more than a month, but this felt more like a first kiss than anything is his experience. And as this tentative, almost chaste kiss lingered, Clark became convinced that this was the single most wonderful kiss he’d ever shared with this woman who was the center of his life.

When they finally separated, despite the fact that her eyes were closed, Clark could see that Lois had felt the impact of that kiss. A moment later, she opened her eyes and her smile almost cost him control of gravity. “It won’t be as smooth this time,” she said with a soft seriousness. “I’m sure we’ll fight.”

“Lois, I’ve known that was going to be the case from the moment we met.”

That evoked an even brighter smile. One that Clark had feared he was never to see again. “Do you have my ring?” she asked.

Clark pulled it out of his pocket. “I’ve kept it with me since the hospital,” he said.

“Then if you’re sure…” and she let that hang.

Clark shifted quickly to his knees. “Lois,” he said with extra emphasis, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she answered, as tears of joy started to flow.

She held out her hand and he placed the ring back where it belonged. The kiss that followed was every bit as wonderful as the previou sone.

THE END

Hattie Kaplin, Reporter – Matchmaker Chronicles Volume 1C – N

By KenJ <ken.janney@kjanney.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: October, 2012

Summary: Hattie is now in her twenties and is working at the Daily Planet, on the city desk as an investigative reporter under the editorial direction of the team of Lane and Kent who were promoted to co-editors-in-chief when Perry White retired. This story is a sequel to “After Summer Camp – Matchmaker Chronicles Volume 1C – A.”

Disclaimers: The characters in this story are property of DC, December 3rd productions and Warner Bros., except those I created. No copyright infringement is intended. I have just borrowed the characters for a short time.

/ denotes telepathic communications./

A/N – Hattie Kaplin has had a long standing relationship with Jon Kent and the entire Kent family, but, she doesn’t know that he is Kam-El or the fact that the Kent clan is the super family.

Hattie is now in her twenties and if this part were to be cast for TV, I would picture a red headed Scarlet Johansen in the part.

***

Chapter 1 – Hattie

June 2028

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Universal Locator designation

Alpha 023 x Gamma 004 x Tau -120 Canon universe also called – Prime

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Henrietta (Hattie) Kaplin shot out of the elevator just as soon as the doors were open far enough for her to squeeze through. She hurried down the ramp and almost pounced on her desk. She dropped her bag on the floor next to her chair and was simultaneously turning on her computer with her other hand. She dropped into her chair and almost pounded her desk in frustration with how long it was taking her computer to boot up. Once it came up she logged in and brought up her word processor and started typing furiously.

Five minutes later she finished typing and started proofing her story. Satisfied that it was worthy she LANed it to Lois Lane and Clark Kent, co-Editors-In-Chief of the Daily Planet. Once she hit the send button she sat back and relaxed for a few seconds, knowing that the relaxation would be short lived.

While she waited she thought back on her history. She had started at the planet a few years ago as a gofer and then worked her way up to research assistant. She had actually helped Lois Lane on some of her assignments. She had learned a lot from Lois; how to pick locks, how best to disguise herself, she even gave her singing lessons in case she had to work as a chanteuse as part of a cover story. Once she had moved from research she had done the obits and the dog shows just like everyone else, paying her dues, as it were. Her big break had come two years earlier when Perry White had retired. Lois and Clark had been promoted to co-Editors-in-Chief leaving the city desk open. Lois had offered her the job and she had jumped at the chance. Since then she had been working on bigger and better stories all the time. She had slowly built a stable of informants so that she could keep her finger on the pulse of the city.

Her reverie was short lived because a little over a minute after she sent the article she heard Lois call her from the doorway of the editor’s office.

Hattie closed the door and moved over in front of Lois’ desk.

Lois was looking at a printout, presumably of Hattie’s article, and she took her time with it. Finally she put it down and picked up her blue pencil and started making some notations. While she was writing she said, “You did good on this one Hattie, almost as good as me at the same point in my career. There are just a couple of word changes. You tend to reuse the same word over and over. You ought to start using the Thesaurus function in your word processor to come up with synonyms to mix it up a little.” Lois picked up the sheet of paper and handed it back to Hattie and said, “Make these changes and send it back to me. Good job!”

Hattie was flushed with pride at this praise coming from her hero and mentor. She said, “Thanks! I’ll get it right back to you.”

As Hattie turned to leave, Lois couldn’t help a small smile of pride at the job her protégé was doing. She was serious in her statement that Hattie was doing every bit as good a job as she had done at the same point in her career. Mulling on it some more she thought, <She’s good and so was I, but, it wasn’t until I was teamed up with Clark that I, we, became great. Like me she has the hard hitting news down. I wasn’t much on the touchy feely stuff, but, Clark brought that into the partnership and we both profited. Maybe I should team her up with someone. I think I’ll talk it over with Clark when he gets back from his rescue.>

Hattie made the changes and sent it back to Lois and in the evening edition was a story:

“Kam-El Rescues Window Washer, Metro-Serv Culpable.”

By: Hattie Kaplin

“A window washer suspended from the roof of the Foundation building on a hanging scaffold was rescued by Kam-El when the cable attached to one side of the scaffold broke as a result of chafing of one of the cables against a decorative ledge on the side of the building. Sudden increasing wind conditions caused the platform to sway from side to side and one cable rubbed against a decorative ledge, causing that cable to part, nearly dropping the worker to the ground. He was able to grab onto the framework to keep from falling. Then the remaining cable parted due to the lack of support from the first cable. But the worker held on tenaciously until local superhero Kam-El caught the platform and leveled it out. He then flew it and the worker safely to the ground.

This reporter has been investigating Metro-Serv, a company which contracts services such as carpet cleaning and window washing to businesses in Metropolis. There have been numerous violations of federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration regulations which have now been documented and turned over to the authorities.

This latest is a breach of a safety regulation and it nearly cost the worker his life. Each cable on this type of equipment should be capable of sustaining the weight of the entire unit independently. The company chose to use a cheaper, lighter cable which could not sustain the weight as a cost-cutting measure.

It is this kind of lack of consideration for the safety of workers of Metro-Serv that causes untold numbers of injuries and deaths in this city each year.

If it hadn’t been for Kam-El another would have been added to that list today.”

Story continues on 2A

***

Later

When Hattie walked in the door of her apartment she was wearing a loose cover-up. She dropped her gym bag containing her gi on the floor next to her washer and her bag next to the sofa. She pulled off the cover-up to reveal a slim, trim athlete’s body in the royal blue spandex work out gear of a halter top and short shorts that she routinely wore under her gi when at the Dojo. After changing into a set of sweats she put the gi and her workout gear into the wash and started it. Then she called and ordered take-out Chinese for dinner. While she waited for it to be delivered, she opened her laptop and started reviewing the results of some research she had done into the operations of Metro-Serv’s sister company, Metro-Staff.

There had been a rash of industrial espionage incidents and the most likely suspects were temp workers, both technical and non-technical that had been placed by Metro-Staff.

She had been reviewing the files for a while when there was a knock on the door. She moved over, plucked her wallet out of her purse and pulled out a few dollars to pay for her meal and then answered the door. When she did, she gasped and stepped back in surprise.

The individual at the door chuckled and asked, “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Jon! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen much of you since you and Jen got back together. How is she doing, by the way?”

“I think she’s over the worst of it. The death of her parents really hit her hard. I was just on my way home from work and was passing by. I thought I’d stop in and see how you were doing. Jen asked me to invite you to dinner at our place. Jen would like to ask you a favor, that is, as long as you’re available.”

Just then the delivery boy showed up with her dinner. She said to Jon, “Hold that thought.” She turned to the delivery boy and said, “Here you go. Keep the change.” She accepted the bags and turned back to Jon and holding them up said, “Dinner. Let me put this in the fridge and grab my things. I’m not about to turn down Jon Kent’s cooking.”

A couple of minutes later they were in Jon’s car headed for the apartment.

When Jon opened the apartment door, Jen was there waiting for them. Hattie said, “Hi, Jen,” and walked over and gave her a hug.

Jen said, “Hi Hattie. I’m glad you could make it. How have you been?”

“Oh, I can’t complain.” Looking around Hattie spotted a copy of the evening edition of the Daily Planet on a side table and started to grin. She stepped over to it and picked it up. Opening it she turned around and held it up for them to see. Her article was the headline of the evening edition. She said, “Ta da!”

Jon and Jen were both duly impressed and listened as she read her story aloud to them.

Jon said, “Wow, that’s some story! Do you think this series of articles exposing them will be a Kerth worthy series?”

Hattie replied hopefully, “I don’t know, we’ll have to wait and see. I’ll be doing follow-ups for a week or more.” Getting a faraway expression she said, as if reciting memorized facts, “At this point in her career, Lois Lane had won a Kerth, let alone been nominated for one. I can’t top that record but, if I can win one for this I will come close to tying her record.”

Jon started laughing. He said, “When are you going to stop competing with my mom?”

Hattie replied, “I’m not competing with her. Well, maybe, but not really. I mean, it’s just that, well, she’s my hero and I want to be as good as her so bad I can taste it.”

Putting on a serious expression, Jon said, “Okay, that I can understand. Speaking of taste, I have a suggestion to make in that case.”

Jon had her full attention. She asked, “What is it?”

He couldn’t hold the serious expression and he started to chuckle as he said, “If you want to be just like my mom, go out and buy a case of Double Fudge Crunch bars. If you weren’t already like another daughter to her, if you shared them with her she’d adopt you.”

Hattie slapped him on the arm and with a sheepish expression said, “I already have a case in my desk. I can see why she likes them so much. They’re really good!”

They all started laughing even harder.

When they all settled down some, Jen asked Jon, “What are you cooking for dinner?”

“I hadn’t decided. What do you guys want?”

Hattie said, “I had ordered Chinese and it’s sitting in my fridge, so, anything else.”

Jon looked at Jen and asked, “Italian?”

Jen nodded.

Jon said, “Italian it is. You ladies can make yourselves comfortable. It’ll take at least half an hour.”

Jen hooked Hattie’s arm and said, “Take your time. Hattie and I have to talk.”

Jon nodded and headed for the kitchen.

Jen pulled Hattie over to the sofa and they sat down together. Jen said, “I hope you don’t mind Jon bringing you here tonight. I needed to talk to you.”

Hattie waved off any apology by saying, “That’s never a problem. I jump at any chance at a home cooked meal, especially Jon’s cooking.” She paused in thought for a few seconds and then resumed, “You know for a long time I wished that the relationship that Jon and I have was different than what it turned out to be. It’s like we were just destined to be friends and nothing more.” She hastened to add, “He never led me on or anything, but, you know how it is. He’s just a great guy and any girl would want to have a relationship with him. If I can’t be married to him, I’m just glad to have him as one of my best friends. I’m also glad that he found someone that he did feel he could marry. I’m also glad that I like you. If I didn’t it would be easy to hate you.”

“I know how you feel, Hattie. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’re getting married. Actually, that’s why I asked Jon to invite you over tonight. The ceremony is in a couple of months and I am planning my bridal party. I would like you to be in it. Would you consider being one of my bridesmaids?”

Hattie started to tear up and said, “Oh, Jen, I don’t know what to say. Thank you, yes, I’d love to be one of your bridesmaids. At least that way at the reception I’ll have someone to be with. Otherwise I was going to be coming to the wedding solo.”

“Oh, Hattie, don’t you have anyone you’re dating?”

“Who has time for dating? I’m working on winning my Pulitzer.”

***

For the next couple of weeks along with doing the follow-ups on the Metro-Serv expose, Hattie was working on the investigation into Metro-Staff. Their offices were on the forty-fifth floor of a building in downtown Metropolis. Hattie had managed to get on the good side of one of the employees. This person didn’t like what she could see was going on around her and after seeing Hattie’s expose of Metro-Serv had contacted her at the Planet.

Her informant had told her that within the next couple of days there would be a meeting attended by the head of Miralabs which had originally been named Lexlabs as part of Lex Luthor’s old empire. This really got Hattie’s attention. She knew all about Lex Luthor and the problems he had presented to Lois and Clark. She found herself hoping that history was repeating itself, at least in some aspects. If some of the advances that Miralabs was making were the result of industrial espionage it would make some story especially if Metro-Staff was providing the spies.

Hattie found a rooftop across from and a little above the offices of Metro-Staff and started a surveillance. Using binoculars she was able to see almost everything that went on in the director’s office. Mostly it was dreary routine but the supposed meeting wasn’t going to occur until the next day. Now that she was sure that she had a ring-side seat she could follow through and get the goods on them.

When she got back to the Planet there was a phone message for her from Jon. She called him at his office at STAR Labs.

“Hi, Jon. Hattie. You called?”

“Hi, Hattie! Listen, Jen wants to go over dress patterns with you. Are you available tonight?”

“Is a Jon Kent cooked meal included?”

She could hear him laughing as he replied, “If that’s what I have to offer to get you to come over then so be it. What do you want?”

“Well, we had Italian the last time. How about Chinese this time?”

“Shrimp Stir Fry sound good?”

“Excellent! My mouth is watering already. What time?”

“How’s 6:30 sound?”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, I’ll drive the Jeep. See you at 6:30.”

***

That evening over dinner Hattie was telling Jon and Jen about her latest investigation. “So I have this crow’s nest that looks right down into the office. I’m going to be up there to document the collusion of Miralabs with Metro-Staff. If I can prove that Metro-Staff’s personnel are stealing secrets for Miralabs I’ll have them cold.”

Jen asked, “Won’t that be dangerous?”

Hattie replied, “Nah, I’ll be far enough away, they won’t even know I’m there.”

Jen said, “All the same, please be careful. Remember, I need you in my wedding party.”

“I’m not about to forget that. I’ll be careful.”

***

Later, in bed, Jen turned to Jon and said, “I think you need to keep an eye on Hattie. She’s so much like your mother it’s scary. She could be getting in over her head.”

“You’re right. She has always been driven to be just like mom. I’ll have to adjust my schedule to give me some free time when she’s in her crow’s nest.”

Jen asked, “Jon, why didn’t you wind up with Hattie? You’ve known her a long time and you’ve been friends since middle school.”

“The way Mom and Dad explain it, it’s a Kryptonian thing. When we meet the one we are to be with we just know. I knew the minute I saw you on that raft that you were the one. It just wasn’t the same thing with Hattie. Yeah, we hit it off as friends, but, that’s all it could ever be with her. She just didn’t have what you have.”

Jen giggled and said, “Yeah, for one thing I’ve got you, but, I know what you mean. I felt it when you pulled me out of the lake. I just knew you were the one and I’m not Kryptonian.” She scooted over and started kissing him.

This started a period of intimacy.

Afterward, Jon lay next to her caressing her and kissing her. She said, “Wow! It just seems to get better every time. How do you do it, please me so much, I mean?”

“It has to be because we are soul mates. Now I know how Mom and Dad feel. It’s a special relationship, a very special relationship. I feel sorry for those that don’t find their soul mates.”

“All I know is, I’m glad you found me. I’m glad you were patient with me too. I was wrong to blame you for my parent’s death. Your family can’t be everywhere at once. You can only do so much.”

“In a few years you’ll be getting powers yourself. Are you going to be okay with that? You don’t have to take a pendant, if you don’t want to you know. I’ll love you just the same.”

She looked deep into his eyes and said, “Having the powers from the pendant will make it so that I live as long as you do. I want that. I want to be with you as long as I can be. Who know, maybe I’ll like having the powers.”

“I hope so because, I want you around for as long as I can have you, and with the pendant that means a long time.”

“I have a class of fourth graders to teach tomorrow, so, I’d better get some sleep.” She kissed him goodnight and, still naked, nestled against his chest. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep and he lay there cuddling and stroking her, the love of his life and soon to be wife.

***

Chapter 2 – Hattie and Kam-El

June 2028

Hattie was prepared. She had a telephoto capable digital camera and a mono-pod. She had selected a mono as opposed to a tri-pod because it was easier to carry and conceal.

Taking the elevator to the basement garage, Hattie went over to her Jeep. As she was crossing over to it from the elevator she hit the button on her key fob to release the locks. She opened the back hatch and pulled out her disguise, a workman’s coverall. She shook it out and stepped into it. Her skirt was bunched up around her hips but that would simply make it look like she had a paunch and add to the disguise. Into a passport pouch went her ID, driver’s license and a $20 and she hung this around her neck. After zipping up the coverall she put a ball cap on her head, pulling her hair through the back opening in a pony tail. It was at that point that she realized that she had forgotten her running shoes and she thought, <Oh well, I’ll just have to wear these heels. At least they are my short ones. If they had been stilettos they would have been very obvious.>. She picked up her mono-pod and clipped the fake sponge mop head to it. Into the cleaning tote went the camera and some rags went in on top of it. Picking up the tote she closed the hatch, hit the lock button and started her five block trek to her lookout building.

Once there she took the elevator to the top floor, moved to the stairs and went up to the roof access. She used her lock picks to open the door and then left a wad of paper in the strike plate to prevent the lock from engaging.

She moved over to the coping and set up. She had a quick disconnect on the base of the camera for quick set up so she slid the release and placed the base in the receiver on the monopod in place of the mop head.

When she looked through the rangefinder she saw the head of Metro-Staff just turning away from his window. She watched as he crossed his office and exited. After a minute he returned to the office.

Hattie turned on an infra-red laser that was attached to the camera. With the laser on the window it would pick up vibrations affecting the glass and translate them into sound. She started the recorder. Hattie started snapping pictures. After almost fifteen minutes he had a visitor, the head of Miralabs. She still had an hour’s worth of audio capacity and probably another thousand picture capacity when she heard a squeak as the door behind her opened.

Hattie knew that this meant trouble because there was no reason for anyone to be up here. Slowly she turned and saw two toughs come out onto the roof through the door.

The first one said, “The boss was right. He said he saw the sun being reflected from something. See what we have here?”

His partner grunted an acknowledgement.

The first one, obviously the leader said, “Okay girlie, give me the camera and no one will get hurt.”

Hattie said, “Come and get it.” While saying this she hit the quick release of the camera, separating it from the monopod. As the thugs started to move in her direction she hit the lock on the monopod and pulled it open to its full six foot length. She allowed the camera to dangle from her neck by the strap as she whirled the monopod around like a bo staff. Crouching almost like a sprinter in the blocks, one foot under her center and the right foot back with her left arm out for balance and the middle of the staff in her right hand laying up along her right arm and extending three feet past her fist.

As soon as the leader came in range she spun the staff around and brought it down, with force on his left elbow at a nerve plexus. He felt his whole arm go numb and let out a shout of pain and surprise and stumbled back.

Hattie twirled the staff around using a two handed grip, the staff performing a figure eight in front of her to keep the other assailant at bay but he started to reach into his coat, obviously for a firearm. Hattie closed with him and swung the staff again, hitting him on the right side of the neck. His right arm stopped responding to his will as his entire right side went numb.

Before Hattie had a chance to recover the leader lunged at her and almost fell into her, knocking her backward. Her left foot hit the parapet, her heel caught and she fell backwards over it into space. As she went over she screamed. “Hhhhheeeeeeeellllllllpppppppp!!!!!!!”

***

As she was falling past the tenth floor suddenly a black and red clad superhero swooped in and caught her. He continued their descent and as he did she shouted, “No! No! Take me back up! Up not down! We have to catch those guys.”

Kam-El looked back up over his shoulder and used his x-ray vision. In a deep voice he said, “They’re not there now. They could be anywhere.”

He landed with her on the sidewalk. Surprisingly she still had her staff in hand; she hit him with it and said, “Thanks a heap! I didn’t get enough of that meeting and we didn’t catch those thugs.” Reaching up she grasped the zipper and yanked it down displaying her frustration. She shrugged out of the shoulders and pushed the coverall down. She revealed her long shapely legs as she did before she pushed her skirt down. Jon was looking at her feet and noticed that one of her heels was missing and was ready to catch her when she finally went to put weight on that foot. He did see her legs and when he did he flashed back in his memory to the last time she had gone with him, Jen and his siblings swimming a few years before. It was before Jen’s parents had died in the accident. Hattie always wore a one piece suit because of her fair skin while his sisters and Jen all wore as little as they could get away with. Thinking about that he thought about Jen and what they shared and he started to smile.

Hattie saw this smile as he was apparently gazing at her legs and she thought, <I guess he likes what he sees.> She was distracted by this and that is when she tried to put her weight on her left foot. The missing heel threw her off balance and Kam-El caught her.

Getting herself back together and thinking about the job at hand in an increasingly sarcastic tone she said, “You’ve been a tremendous help. What good are you?”

Chagrined he replied, “You could at least thank me for saving your life.”

As she was picking up the coverall and throwing it across her arm Hattie said, “Well, yeah, thanks, but, next time, try to catch the bad guys, okay?”

Kam-El said, “Okay, next time, I’ll try to do that. Are you okay?”

Hattie, feeling very disappointed said, “Yeah, I guess so.” She continued in a subdued tone, more to herself than to him, “Stupid rookie mistake. I let them know I was there. Shoulda been more careful.”

Jon offered his hand, “By the way, I’m Kam-El. Haven’t I seen you around?”

Hattie took his hand and shook it as she replied, “Yeah, Hattie Kaplin, Daily Planet.

Kam-El said, “I think I’ve read some of your stories. You do good work; it reminds me of Lois Lane’s writing.”

Hattie started beaming at this statement, she asked, “Really, you think I’m that good?”

Jon said, “I think you are.”

It suddenly occurred to Hattie that she had a five block walk back to the Planet, on a broken heel, so she asked, “If you don’t mind, could you give me a lift to the Planet?”

“Sure.” Jon leaned down and picked Hattie up with one arm behind her back and the other under her thighs. In this position the slit in her skirt opened to show off her very shapely legs. She wrapped her free arm around his neck and as he lifted off got a huge grin on her lips.

Jon flew her slowly to the Planet and using his super breath blew open the large windows opening onto the bullpen. He flew her in and set her on her feet near her desk.

Kicking off her heels and seeing just where he had put her she looked at him and asked, “How did you know this was my desk?”

Jon pointed at her name plate and said, “It has your brand on it.”

Chagrined she said, “Oh, yeah, I guess it does. Well, thanks, Kam-El. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.” With a little grin he added, “I’ll try to do better next time.” He lifted off and slowly flew out the windows before putting on a burst of speed.

Hattie watched as he disappeared out the window and had a dreamy expression as she turned to her desk. As she did she suddenly realized that everyone was staring at her. She mentally shook herself and asked, “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever seen one of the supermen before?”

One of her co-workers said, “Yeah, but we’ve never seen you with a man before. Way to go!”

Rolling her eyes she dropped into her chair and pulled her camera off of her neck and plugged it in to download what she had gotten. Once the download was started she opened her bottom drawer and pulled out another pair of shoes. They were really the wrong color, but, they would have to do until she got home. She picked up her short heels and looked at them with disappointment in her eyes. She thought, &lt;These were my favorites. I hope they can be repaired.&gt; Stuffing them into her bottom drawer she went back to her computer to see just how much she had gotten.

Standing in her doorway, Lois, was an interested observer. She sent a thought, /Jon, do you realize that the stunt you just pulled with Hattie is a close duplicate of when your father made his debut and he flew me in the same way?/

She received, /Yeah, I remember you telling us the story. Hattie wants so much to be like you, I just couldn’t resist./

/I think you really made an impression. Are you going to be her special superman the way your father is for me?/

/I’ll take her on as my special project, if that’s what you mean. After all, she is one of my closest friends, almost like a sister./

/Just be careful, okay?/

/I will./

***

Later that afternoon Hattie had a call from her informant. “Daily Planet, Kaplin.”

“Ms. Kaplin, I saw what happened. It’s a good thing for you that Kam-El was around.”

“Yeah, if it hadn’t been for him I’d have been a big red stain on the sidewalk. Listen, I got some pictures but those goons got to me before anything really incriminating was said. When will the next meeting be?”

“Since they know you were watching they aren’t going to do any more face to face meetings. I’m going to have to be careful. If they find out I tipped you off it could be a problem.”

“Darn! Okay, if you hear anything, let me know, but, be careful.” With a thoughtful expression, Hattie hung up the phone. This was going to require some thought.

A little later she had another call, “Daily Planet, Kaplin.”

“Well, Kaplin, what are you doing this evening?”

Immediately she brightened, “Hi Jon! No plans. What’s up?”

“How about dinner? Jen wants to get your opinion on some of the reception arrangements.”

“Sure, what are you cooking?”

“I was thinking about Indian tonight.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your dad and the time he spent teaching you how to cook. If you didn’t have a good job at STAR Labs you could open your own restaurant.”

“We already had one of them in the family. My Great Uncle Mike had one. Of course, that was years ago. Want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, I’ll drive. What time?”

“Does 6:30 suit?”

“Yeah, 6:30 will be fine. I have some things to finish up here. I’ll come right from work.”

“See you then.”

***

The next day Hattie came up with a plan. Banking on the fact that they would think that she wouldn’t return to the same place she had been caught just the day before, she picked up the equipment she would need from the equipment locker.

After work, when it was dark she headed out. For this mission she changed out of her work clothes and donned her ‘snooping’ clothes, a form fitting and flattering black cat suit. She carried her lock picks and other tools in a couple of pouches at her waist. One of the items she carried was a telescoping baton. It could be used like an eskrima (1) as a defensive weapon.

She returned to the same rooftop she had been on the day before. She had a digital recorder in a waterproof container and the same type of infrared laser that had been attached to the camera in one of the pouches. It had a sighting device so that it could be aimed. Staying below the coping around the edge of the roof as much as she could she sighted in the laser and locked it in position. Turning on the voice activated recorder she left the roof. She would check on the recorder every other day to replace the memory chip and see what she had recorded.

When she kneeled down to place the recorder she came down on something hard. “Ouch! What’s that?” She picked it up and realized that it was the heel she had lost. She thought, &lt;Well, I’m glad to find you. Now I can have those shoes repaired. I wonder if the mop head is here as well?&gt; She felt around and found the errant mop head. It really wasn’t that important, it was just that it had a quick release mount attached. She put both items in the pouch the recorder and laser had occupied.

***

The next day she was in the office all day doing research just grabbing a cheese sandwich from the machine for lunch.

At 5:30 Hattie shut down her computer and grabbing her bag, headed for the elevator and took it down to the basement garage. Her first stop was going to be the crow’s nest to pick up her memory chip. As she left the elevator and headed toward her Jeep she hit the remote unlock button. As usual she could hear birds chirping in the girders above her head and suddenly she felt something wet and warm hit her outstretched hand. She looked up to see the source of this material and saw the birds. Looking at her hand she saw that the bird had accurate aim and had bombed her. She reached into her bag to get a tissue to clean it off.

About the time she finished wiping her hand and wadding up the tissue she was knocked off her feet when her Jeep exploded.

Within seconds the overhead sprinkler system started spewing water.

Seconds later Kam-El flew in and landed next to the flaming wreckage. When he shouted, you could hear the anguish in his voice, “Hattie!”

She must have been knocked out momentarily, but the water from the fire sprinklers had awakened her. She was just sitting up when she heard him and she replied, “Yeah, over here.”

He turned at the sound of her voice and spotting her, sped over and kneeling, enveloped her in his arms. He was choked up and almost crying.

She was startled by this outpouring of emotion and thought, &lt;This is more attention than I expected. I wonder, could he be interested in me? Why else would he react this way? Do the supermen have human spouses? I wonder.&gt;

In a shaky voice, Jon said, “I thought I had lost you.”

“I’m okay. I guess we can thank that bird.” &lt;He thought he had lost me???&gt;

“What bird?”

Gesturing vaguely at the ceiling she said, “The one that used my hand as a restroom. I stopped to clean up and that kept me from getting into my car.”

As he was helping her to stand he said, “It sure looks like you’ve ruffled some feathers so I guess it’s only fair that some feathers saved you. What do you want to do about this?”

“It might be a good idea to let whoever did this think they succeeded.”

They were beginning to hear sirens in the distance and approaching. The Jeep was still burning but the overhead sprinkler system had been spewing water, including the ones over their heads. Hattie’s hair was plastered to her skull and her suit was soaked.

“Do you want to talk to the police or not?”

Looking at her clothes and reaching up and feeling her hair plastered to her head she said, “I think … not. Can you get me outta here?”

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

“My apartment. I need to change out of these wet clothes, then, if you don’t mind, Jon Kent’s apartment.”

Jon sent, /Pop?/

Immediately he got a response, /What is it Jon?/

/Hattie’s car was bombed in the parking garage. She’s okay. She wasn’t in it when it went up. I’m taking her to her apartment. Can you come to the Planet and deal with the police for me?/

/Sure thing. You take care of Hattie./

/Thanks./

Jon picked her up and flew off just as the first responders were arriving. Without thinking about it he flew her to her apartment. At her door he stopped her and asked, “Do you want me to dry you off?”

She was distracted and asked, “What? How?”

He stepped back and said, “Just stand there a sec. A little heat vision will take care of it.”

Hattie could feel the heat. It wasn’t like being baked in an oven, more like standing outside in the sun on a summer day. She could feel her clothes and hair drying. She reached up and even though her hair was now dry it was still matted down.

When he was done she pulled out her keys and opened the locks. When the door opened she gasped. The sight that greeted her was appalling. Her apartment looked like a cyclone had passed through. Everything was thrown around, cushions were cut open, drawers pulled out and dumped, even her freezer was emptied. She moved into the kitchen and picked up a bag of frozen vegetables. They were still partially frozen. She said, “They were here only a short time ago.” She moved into her bedroom. It was the same story. One small comfort was that her clothing was intact even if it was spread all over the floor. She looked at Kam-El and asked, “Can you help me pack all of this stuff up? I want to take it with me.”

At super speed Kam-El picked up, folded and packed her clothes. He did experience some little embarrassment as he was picking up her underwear. He had never been intimate with her that way and this was the first time he was seeing what she liked to wear under her clothes. Very feminine, lacy underwear and some plain, utilitarian things as well. Her night wear was the same mix, whew. He actually started to blush. To him it was like going through his sister’s lingerie drawer. When he had completed this task he asked, “What next?”

When she turned to face him at his question she noted the color in his cheeks, at least what wasn’t covered by his mask. She said, “Just take me to Jon Kent’s apartment.” She thought, &lt;Why is he blushing? Does he wonder what I look like in some of my underwear? Perhaps a nightie?&gt;

“I’ll take you and then come back for your luggage.” Once outside he picked her up and flew off.

The door of Jon Kent’s apartment was answered by Jen and seeing Hattie in her disheveled condition and Kam-El she asked, “Hattie, what happened?”

“You’re not going to believe it. Can I bunk with you guys for a few days?”

Jen stood back and allowed Hattie to enter and after she had passed Jen gave Jon a quizzical look that Hattie couldn’t see. He nodded imperceptibly so Jen put her arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch.

Kam-El said, “I’ll be right back with her luggage.”

Jen said, “Alright, go ahead.” As soon as Kam-El turned away Jen sat next to Hattie and put an arm across her shoulders.

***

Chapter 3 – Uh – oh

July 2028

The reaction finally settled in and Hattie started to cry. Jen tried to comfort her as best she could without knowing the story. Slowly, the story came out, in between sobs.

Shortly, Kam-El returned with Hattie’s luggage which he put in the guest bedroom. When he came back out he said, “I don’t think I’m needed here any longer. I’ll check back on you later.”

Hattie said, “Thanks, Kam-El. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

He nodded his head and exited.

A few minutes later Jon Kent entered and said, “I just saw Kam-El fly away. What was he doing around here?” As if he just spotted her he asked, “Hattie! What are you doing here?”

“Jon, am I glad to see you! You’ll never believe what happened. First my Jeep was bombed. It’s just dumb luck that I wasn’t in it when it happened. Then Kam-El took me to my apartment. Wait a minute, how did he know where I live? I wonder. Anyhow, it looks like my apartment was searched. Fortunately, I was carrying my laptop in my bag so they didn’t get that. I don’t know what they were looking for and I hope whatever it was they didn’t find it. My guess is that it was Metro-Staff. They know I’m after them. Kam-El was a tremendous help. You know, I think he likes me. I could tell. I just wonder.” She fell silent for a minute then she looked at herself and said, “I guess I need to get out of these clothes.” She stood up and moved into the guest bedroom to change.

When she closed the door, Jen gave Jon another quizzical look. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “We can talk later.”

Hattie was thinking about her encounter with Kam-El as she was getting out some clothes to change into. He had said he would be back later to check on her. Subconsciously, thinking about him must have influenced her decision as to what to put on. She pulled out a lacey turquoise bra and matching thong. She found a light blue scoop neck top and a short dark blue skirt. She pulled out her comb and brush and worked on her hair. She decided that it would require a shower and proper care before it would look right and she hoped she would have a chance to do that before he returned. Giving it up as a lost cause, until a shower she put down her utensils, picked up her clothes and rejoined Jon and Jen in the living room.

Jon said, “You look a lot better.”

Hattie replied, “Thank you. I feel a little better. Mind if I use your shower?”

Jen said, “Not at all. Make yourself at home.”

Jon asked, “Who’s hungry? It’s steak night. I was planning to make sides of mac n cheese, green beans and a salad.”

Hattie said, “Comfort food; just the thing. Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have friends like you guys.” She headed toward the bathroom for her shower.

Once the door to the bathroom was closed, Jen turned to Jon and asked, “Okay, what happened?”

“Well, she was almost killed. Somebody booby trapped her car. I didn’t get there until it had already happened. I thought she was dead. I’m afraid I might have let my guard down and reacted emotionally. I don’t know if it will be a problem or not. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“You’re going to need to be extra careful.”

“Don’t I know it? I’m going to go start dinner while she’s in the shower.”

“Okay, I need to work on my lesson plans for next week. Shall I bring my book out and work at the table? I can keep you company that way.”

Jon leaned in, gave her a kiss and said, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have keeping me company. What can I carry for you?”

“It’s in my bag. I’ll get it and join you in a minute, Lover.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and with a wicked little grin said, “The joining will be much later.”

Jen giggled and looked toward the bathroom as she said, “I don’t know if I can be quiet enough not to disturb Hattie. You know, I really feel sorry for her. She doesn’t have a boyfriend. She says she’s too busy chasing a Pulitzer.”

A few minutes later they were in the kitchen.

Jon was starting the meal preparations as they were talking. Jon asked, “Who are you matching her up with in the bridal party?”

“I was thinking about your cousin, Jimmy Junior. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that might just work. He’s a good guy. He’s been working for the Gotham Gazette. I hear he just got an offer from the Planet. His specialty is human interest, mood type pieces. The word is that Mom and Dad asked him to come over especially. The editor of the Gazette was complaining that it was nepotism and poaching, but, what could he do about it? It isn’t like he had a long contract or anything.”

Suddenly Jon received a thought, /Jon, you busy?/

/Kinda, is it important?/

/No, it can wait a while. The police have finished their investigation. They pulled the security tapes and ID’d the bomber. There’s an APB out for him. I can give you the details later./

/Thanks, Pop. I’ll get back to you./

Using finger quotes, Jen said, “Okay, I saw “the” look. What’s up?”

“That was Dad. They ID’d the bomber. I’ll need to get together with him later.”

Just to be on the safe side from that point on Jen talked about her fourth grade class while Jon finished the meal. Hattie came out after her shower and joined them and was fascinated by some of the anecdotes Jen told about her students.

They spent the rest of the evening together and then Jon and Jen said they were going to bed so all three went off to change.

After they were in their bedroom, while Jen prepared for bed, Jon spun into his Suit and flew out through the bedroom window to meet with his dad.

***

Remembering that Kam-El had promised to look back in on her later, Hattie decided to wear a semi-transparent nightie and put this on over her bra and thong. She was still restless after what had happened so she put on a robe and went out to the living room and turned on the TV with the sound off and the closed captioning on.

She was half asleep when the door quietly opened and in stepped Kam-El.

She was instantly awake. She stood and walked toward him. In a hushed tone, so as not to disturb Jon and Jen in their bedroom she said, “I knew you’d come.” Her face began to flush with her thoughts. She said, “I know that you have feelings for me. I heard what you said.” She started opening her robe. “I heard the emotion in your voice when you thought I had been killed in the explosion.” She finished undoing her robe. “You said that you had been afraid you had lost me.” She pulled the robe open and allowed it to fall to the floor revealing almost her entire body to his view. She was excited and it was evident because her nipples were hard and erect and her lacey bra did nothing to hide their condition.

Jon was embarrassed and looked up as if praying to a higher power for strength. When he looked down he looked at the TV.

She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She said, “You don’t have to hide your feelings anymore.” She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. He really didn’t reciprocate and she pulled back and with a funny almost disgusted look on her face said, “That felt like I was kissing my brother.” She stepped back and seeing that he wasn’t looking at her, feelings of inadequacy started to assert and her voice started to lost its quiet register. Her volume started to increase as she asked, “Am I that ugly that you can’t even look at me? Do I disgust you that much?” The hurt was very evident in her voice as it finished on a high and rather loud note.

Jen was in bed waiting for Jon’s return when she heard raised voices in the living room. She slid out of bed and grabbed her robe and started putting it on. She didn’t immediately go into the living room because it could just be the TV.

Kam-El said, “I’m sorry Hattie. I … I can’t really … “

With this statement some of the hurt she had been experiencing was removed. If this was the case, then there was no hope of a relationship. “You can’t be with Earth women, is that it?”

“Well, no, that’s not it.”

This statement brought all of her anger back and she almost shouted, “If that’s not it, what’s the problem? I know you have feelings for me. I have feelings for you.” She reached up and cupped her breasts as if offering them to him.

Jen heard this clearly, <That surely wasn’t the TV.> she moved toward the door of the bedroom.

Again he said, “Hattie, I … I can’t .. I …”

He still wasn’t looking at her so she gasped the sides of her nightie and pulled it off over her head so that she was standing there in just a couple of bits of lace. All the bra did was outline her breasts without concealing them. She said, “Look at me! Am I that hard to look at? Am I that repulsive?” She started weeping in frustration at his apparent rejection.

Just then the bedroom door opened and Hattie heard Jen gasp very loudly. Then Hattie heard Jen say, loudly and angrily, “Hattie! What are you doing?” Jen looked at Kam-El and saw that he was looking at the silent TV and NOT at Hattie.

Hattie half turned toward Jen and holding out her hand in Kam-El’s direction said, “Kam-El … he came to check on me.”

In a tone of her voice, that of someone who was exasperated Jen said, “You’re not exactly dressed for visitors.”

Defensively, Hattie replied, “I am for him. He has feelings for me, I know it.” She reached down and picked up her robe and started to put it back on.

Jen transferred her attention to Kam-El and said, “I think it’s time she was told.”

Hattie looked back and forth between Kam-El and Jen and asked, “Told? Told what?”

Kam-El pointedly looked and Jen and said, “You’re right.”

Jen asked, “Why did you come in through the door anyhow?”

“There were people outside. They would have seen me. I thought she would be in bed.”

Hattie was getting the impression that these two knew each other better than she ever could have imagined. As they were talking she had finished fastening her robe.

Jen said, “She is one of your best and oldest friends. Don’t you think you can trust her by this time? I think you can.”

As Hattie was listening to this exchange Kam-El’s voice had started to change. It became a little less deep, took on a new tone and timbre, became less and less formal, softer, more friendly, more … familiar.

Kam-El nodded his head and said, “You’re right, of course.” He reached up and removed his mask.

Hattie stood there in shock. It was like a bomb had gone off in her brain. Her thoughts were in a whirl. <Jon??? Jon Kent! The guy I have known from middle school, my best friend … he … is … Kam-El!?!?! Kam-El! I just tried to seduce Kam-El, Jon, I just tried to seduce Jon! But, if he’s Kam-El, then that means that Clark Kent, Clark Kent is Superman and OH … MY … GOD …that means that Lois is .. Lois Lane is Ultra Woman!> Hattie felt faint.

In a dazed state Hattie clutched her robe closer. As she was cinching the belt tighter, in a distracted manner, she said, “All of these years, all these years I’ve been spending all my spare time with the super family. I basically taught you French. You taught me Algebra. No wonder I could never be as good as Lois Lane, she had a super edge.” She was slowly becoming slightly hysterical.

Jon said, “Actually, Mom didn’t have her powers back until I was ten.”

Hattie didn’t understand this and said, “What? How?”

Jon started to move over to comfort her, but, Jen shook her head and moved over in his place to comfort Hattie. She said, “Now you can see why it never would have worked out for you with Kam-El. He’s … already spoken for.”

Hattie turned to Jen and put her arms around her, buried her face in her shoulder and started crying. She said, “Oh, Jen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Jen patted her back and then made a hand motion, twirling her finger around indicating that Jon should change which he did.

Jon stepped over to them and placed a hand on Hattie’s shoulder. He said, “Hattie, we need to talk.”

She stopped crying and nodded in understanding. They moved over to the sofa. Jon turned the TV off and when he sat down, Jen sat in his lap, facing Hattie.

Hattie said, “I never even suspected. I call myself an investigative reporter and I never for a moment considered the possibility that the entire super family was right there under my nose the whole time.”

Jon said, “That’s not too surprising Hattie, we’ve had a lot of practice hiding and after all you and I almost grew up together. You just saw me as your friend, the guy you studied and played games with. You are like a sister to me and I do have feelings for you. Hattie I do love you. I love you like a sister. The only one I have stronger feelings for is Jen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It wasn’t until recently that you were in need of assistance. It just sorta worked out that I was in the area when you needed me and yes, I was heartbroken when I thought you had died in that explosion. I didn’t really, deliberately keep it from you, it’s just family policy. We have only ever told our spouses. There have been some close, very close friends that have figured it out on their own, but, mostly it’s just relatives. It’s actually for their safety as much as ours. If it became known that someone knew who we were, think what a criminal would do to get the information. We don’t want to risk that.”

“But, I would never tell. I don’t care what they would do to me. They could stick burning bamboo stakes under my fingernails and I wouldn’t tell.”

“We know you wouldn’t Hattie, but, we wouldn’t want you to have to go through that.”

Hattie asked, “But, what about Jen? Won’t she be susceptible to that kind of torture, or worse, as the wife of one of the supermen, they could threaten to kill her if you didn’t do what they wanted.”

“That would only be for a short time. What you don’t know, what nobody outside of the family has known till now is that all of our spouses are super as well. In just a couple of years, Jen will be a superwoman and all of our children will be super.”

“You mean that if I had married you, I would have become super?”

“Yes.”

“How does it happen?”

“By being together, by being intimate our spouses bodies are changed over time and when they have reached the point that they are half Kryptonian we can have children and they have powers.”

With a thoughtful look Hattie said, “If you and I were intimate, could you make me super?”

Jen replied, “I’m sorry Hattie. Jon is spoken for. Remember, he and I are getting married in just a few weeks. I guess he should explain.”

“Hattie, there’s something about Kryptonians. We are driven to find that one person, the only person that completes us. It’s called a soul mate and once we find our soul mate, they are the only one we can be with. I’m sorry, Hattie. It’s a case of love at first sight. If it doesn’t happen immediately, it won’t happen. It happened immediately with Jen. You and I were already friends but the first time I laid eyes Jen, I knew she was the one. Plus, it isn’t that simple. It takes up to three years.”

“I guess I’ve lost out all around then.”

“No Hattie! Don’t think that way! Just because I’m not the one we’re still friends, now, more than ever. You’re part of this family, whether you want to be or not. You’re almost as much a part of this family as Jen is, in fact you’ve been with us longer.”

Suddenly a thought hit her, she said, “Wait a minute, I just thought, if you’re Kam-El then Lara is …”

Jon finished for her, “Ultra Woman two.”

Hattie asked, “How did that happen?”

“That’s a story for another time.”

Jen looked at the clock and said, “I have a fourth grade class to teach tomorrow. I need to get some sleep and I need Jon in bed with me. Are you going to be okay?”

Hattie thought for a second and then said, “Yeah, I guess so. I still have a lot of questions though.”

“We have a lot of time to answer them. Now that we don’t have to hide everything, we can talk.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll go to bed, but, first I’m going to change into, something a little less … revealing.”

Jen and Jon both chuckled and said, “Goodnight Hattie.” They both gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed for their bedrooms. Hattie went to the guest room and Jon and Jen to theirs.

***

The next morning at breakfast Jon told Hattie that the bomber had been identified and that the police were after him.

They decided that she should work from the apartment for a couple of days.

Hattie told Jon about the recorder and he retrieved the chip for her while putting a new one in place.

After listening to it she called the police and asked to speak with Inspector Cardona.

“Cardona here.”

“Inspector, this is Hattie Kaplin.”

“Ah, Ms. Kaplin. Superman just brought in our person of interest in the bombing of your car.”

“Superman, which one?”

“Oh, it was Superman himself. I heard about your incident and that Kam-El was the one that saved you. Do you have some kind of pull with the supermen that they go out of their way to help you?”

This simple question yanked her back in her mind to the previous night and the conversation they had had. She knew now just what it meant to be in on the family secret and just how important it was to guard that secret. She knew instantly that in order to protect Jon and the rest of his family she would need to lie, or if not lie outright, at least muddy the water somewhat. She phrased her answer carefully, “Not that I am aware of. I think that they help anyone when the need arises.” She decided not to press her luck any farther and change the topic by asking, “Has the bomber talked yet?”

“No, we’re still grilling him.”

“What I have here might just help to get him talking. I have a recording of the conversations conducted in the offices of Metro-Staff.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. I’m not going to ask how you acquired this recording.”

“Good, that way I won’t have to lie to you. It would not be admissible in a court of law as evidence, but, I think you will find it to be very interesting. The director of Metro-Staff hired the bomber that booby trapped my Jeep. He also sent the team out that ransacked my apartment. They were trying to find out just how much evidence I had on them. The most interesting thing for the bomber is that he was scheduled to be ‘taken care of’ so that he couldn’t testify later. It could make interesting listening for the bomber.”

“I’ll send a courier over to get it. Where are you?”

She gave him Jon Kent’s address and while she waited she copied the file to her laptop.

Phone conversations and other meetings were recorded and all incriminated Metro-Staff in her attempted murder and also the corporate espionage.

***

After a time she had a call from Inspector Cardona. “We played that recording for the suspect and he copped to the gig and cut a deal. He’ll plead to a lower charge and testify against Metro-Staff. We got enough out of him to get a warrant. We are going to go after them on the attempted murder charge, but, who knows just what we might turn up in the search. You’re interest is in the corporate espionage, right?”

“Right, can I get whatever you dig up?”

“Would you like to be there for the bust? It was your recording, after all, that busted this case wide open. You get the exclusive.”

“Inspector, a team of wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

She typed up what she had and e-mailed it to Lois and Clark.

The police notified her when they were set to do a round up and she was there for the take down.

As anticipated all of the evidence she needed to make the link between Metro-Staff, the industrial espionage and Miralabs was uncovered.

Her articles exposing Miralabs and the corporate spying being done by Metro-Staff won her not only a Kerth nomination but the award itself and this was just a few months farther into her career that Lois was when she won her first Kerth.

***

The wedding went off without a hitch. The bride was radiant in her white gown. Pete Ross, husband of Jen’s cousin and closest relative, Lana Lang Ross, gave her away as the stand in for her deceased father. The groom looked very dashing in his tuxedo with a white cummerbund and white tie. Lara Kent Lee was Matron of Honor and Mike Lee was Jon’s best man. All of Jon’s sisters and Hattie were in the bridal party as bridesmaids and all of Jon’s brothers and his cousin Jimmy Olsen Junior were groomsmen. Hattie as a bridesmaid was paired up with Jimmy. Hattie and Jimmy hit it off and both had a thoroughly enjoyable evening, dancing the night away. When it came time for the tossing of the bouquet, Hattie caught it. The garter was caught by, you guessed it, Jimmy Junior. There was some rather raucous cheering and encouragement as he was putting the garter on Hattie’s leg to keep going higher and higher. She called a halt when it was at mid-thigh which is when the photographer took the picture. Nobody let on, but, there just might have been some collusion on the part of the girls and guys to have it turn out that way.

Jimmy Junior had been told to keep his new job a secret, so at the wedding he had limited himself to family and his work at the Gotham Gazette. The fact that he was also a reporter and could converse on her level attracted Hattie to him immediately. The fact that he was also part of the family and knew the family secret fostered conversation. Since he had been told that she knew the family secret, it established a lot of common ground for a relationship.

The wedding was on Saturday and Jimmy had convinced Hattie to give him her address and phone number so that he could call her some time.

On Monday, to her complete surprise that same groomsman started working at the Daily Planet.

***

Oh, and, by the way, when Jimmy Olsen Junior started at the Planet, he was teamed up with Hattie Kaplin. He brought the same balance to the writing team that Clark had to the team of Lane and Kent. Before long the reporting team of Kaplin and Olsen were the inheritors of the title, ‘The Hottest Team in Town’ and before too much more time had passed, Hattie really became a member of the family by marrying Jon’s cousin.

THE END

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eskrima

Stick used in hand to hand combat either singly or in pairs.

Glasses

By Mary P. Potts aka Queen of the Capes <queenofthecapes@gmail.com>

Rated: G

Submitted: December 2012

Summary: Superman’s having vision problems? Why doesn’t he just wear glasses?

***

“I need WHAT?”

“Glasses.”

“Run that by me again?”

Dr. Klein sighed in exasperation. “Glasses. Glass-es. Little frames with glass lenses in them, that are worn on the face to improve eye-sight.”

“I know what glasses are, Dr. Klein,” Superman grumbled irritably.

“That weaponized beam that Parker hit you with apparently caused damage to your corneas,” Klein explained further, “making your eyes hyperopic, which is why you can no longer clearly see objects that are close to you.”

Superman raked a hand through his hair. “Look, Dr. Klein…”

“That’s a lamp,” Klein informed him, causing the superhero to sheepishly turn a few degrees so that he was actually facing the scientist.

“Dr. Klein,” Superman tried again, “there must be some mistake.”

“There’s no mistake,” said Klein, shaking his head. “You need vision correction, Superman. Otherwise, I don’t see how you’ll be able to keep on doing this.”

Superman sighed.

Klein patted his hand. “There, there, Superman,” he said. “It won’t be so bad. Lots of average people wear them.”

“I know,” said Superman.

Klein pulled him in the direction of the door. “Just come with me, and we’ll see if we can figure out a prescription for you. The sooner we get this settled, the sooner you can get your life back to normal.”

***

It was all Martha Kent could do to stifle her giggling. Jonathan had already given up trying to hide his amusement. “You know, dear, they really don’t look bad on you,” she said.

“Mo-o-om,” Clark whined.

“I think they make Superman look smarter,” she continued, causing her husband to burst out laughing.

Clark sighed. “That’s it. I’m calling Bernie about those contacts we discussed.”

***

Superman landed behind the hold-up man and grabbed his gun before he had a chance to react. The clerk and the few customers who had been in the convenience-store cheered. “Is everyone here all right?” he asked them.

There appeared to be no one injured among them. “We’re okay now, Superman,” said the clerk. “Thanks!”

“Good,” said Superman, smiling. “In that case, I’ll just escort this gentleman here to…oh no.” He suddenly grimaced, much to everyone’s confusion. “Um, could nobody move, please?” he asked. “I…um…I think I just lost…um…”

A young woman, spotting a glint nearby, bent and picked up the fallen lens. “Is this yours?” she asked.

“…yeah,” said Superman, sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“I never knew you wore contacts, Superman,” said a man.

“Uh…” said Superman.

“You should switch to glasses,” said an older woman. “I think they’d make you look cuter.”

Now Superman was positively blushing. He mumbled something indecipherable, and then flew off to the police station with his charge.

***

“Look! It’s Superman!”

“Superman will save us!”

Clark landed in the main lab of the Cadmus facility, amidst the throng of panicked scientists. “What seems to be the trouble, gentlemen?” he asked them.

One of the scientists pointed to a flashing display on a nearby screen. “It’s the reactor on level 3,” he said. “It’s ruptured somehow, and if we can’t get someone down there to fix it in the next 60 seconds, this entire compound could be blown sky high!”

“Leave it to me,” said Clark.

It didn’t take him very long to find level three, and sure enough, there was a large cylinder in the middle of the floor, connected to a number of pipes, one of which had clearly broken down the middle. It would be easy enough to weld it shut. He focused on the crack and hit it with the full force of his heat vision. The alarms soon stopped blaring.

Now, the room was completely blurry.

Clark winced. He blinked away a pair of useless, melted globs and tried to feel his way toward the door. He had just reached what must have been the hall when a blob moved toward him, becoming even blobbier as it approached.

“Superman?” it said. “Are you all right?”

Clark tried to smile nonchalantly. “Of course,” he said. “I’m perfectly fine. Er…which way is the exit?”

“Oh, you can’t miss it,” said the blob. “It’s just down this hall, past the intersection and around the next corner.”

“Good,” said Clark.

“It’s clearly labelled,” the blob added helpfully.

“Of course it is,” Clark said, nodding. “Well, er, goodbye!”

He left via the ceiling.

***

He tapped on the window.

“Come in,” she called.

He stepped inside. “Good evening, Miss Lane.”

“Superman!” she said, giving that broad, soppy grin she reserved only for him. “I was hoping you’d drop by.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was addictive, this woman. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right,” he told her. “That stunt you pulled earlier—”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, just a few nicks and scratches,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse. How about you, though?” she asked, suddenly looking at him intently. “Have you been all right lately, Superman?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he gulped. “Pardon?”

“I’ve been hearing all kinds of odd stories about you, lately,” she went on, reaching up to lay a hand on his crossed arms. “Is something going on with you?”

For a while, he eyed her window longingly. Then he sighed. “I’ve…been having a little…adjustment issues,” he admitted.

“Adjustment issues?” she echoed.

“That brush with Parker damaged my eyes,” he told her. “They’re hyperopic, so I’ve had to start wearing contacts. The problem is, I keep losing them or melting them…one time both at once.”

Lois shrugged. “So switch to glasses,” she said, patting his arm encouragingly.

He stiffened. “Lois…”

“No, really,” she said, smiling up at him. “They’re bigger, so you wouldn’t likely lose them as easily, and you could always pull them down when you had to use your vision gizmo. At the very least, you should start carrying a pair for those times when—”

“Lois,” he interrupted, “I can’t wear glasses.”

She looked at him in puzzlement. “Why not?” she asked.

Now he was really getting uncomfortable. If he had any sense, he’d leave right now. “I just…can’t be seen in glasses,” he muttered, already regretting the words.

Lois glared at him. “Superman!” she snapped, clearly appalled. “I can’t believe you! You, of all people, letting vanity get in the way of saving millions of lives?”

He latched onto this. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “It would look stupid, Lois. I have my image to maintain.”

She shook her head, and then patted him on the arm again. “Superman, don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I can’t imagine anyone who would look better in a pair of glasses than you.”

He squirmed uncomfortably.

“In fact,” Lois went on, oblivious to his sudden distress, “I bet they might even enhance your features a little. Make you look smarter, more sophisticated…” She smiled at him, clearly studying his face intently. “In fact, I think I can just picture—” She lapsed into silence. The smile faded.

Clark looked at her, nervously. “Lois?”

“We’ll talk to STAR Labs about getting you Lasik,” she said.

THE END. :)

Fireworks (2012 Summer Ficathon)

By VirginiaR. <lc.virginiaR@gmail.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: August 2012

Summary: Lois and Clark meet by accident while visiting Walt Disney World nine years before Clark’s fateful interview at the Daily Planet.

***

Homespun

Lois was hot, so hot she felt like she was melting. She scoffed. And she had thought it was hot in Metropolis in the summer. That heat had nothing on the 98 percent humidity that was Florida in mid-June with one hundred percent teenage hormones on rampage.

She couldn’t believe her mother, dumping her and Lucy with Daddy for the first two weeks of summer break. Actually, she could. Almost as much as she could believe her father double-booking himself at a medical conference during the same time.

Oh, how Lois could feel the parental love overfloweth.

At least the medical conference was being held at the Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando, so their father had no other option than to buy his daughters week-long passes to the park while he was busy conferencing.

It was the best family vacation yet, one where she didn’t have to spend more than an hour a day — if that — with her family. Well, save Lucy, but her baby sister was okay, since she was in the same boat as Lois.

Lucy and Lois had latched onto a group of other teenage girls whose parents had dragged them to the conference. Unfortunately, they were all young teenage girls like Lucy. Fourteen was the median age, Lois being on the high end of that at almost seventeen.

She just had to suffer through one more year of high school and living at home with alchy mom, and then off to Met U.’s prestigious journalism school. She should be a shoe-in, what with her internship at the Daily Planet starting when she returned to Metropolis, and next fall not only would she be Senior Class President, but as the only member of the Bulletin staff that had been writing articles for three years, she had already been appointed Editor. Not to mention being valedictorian since… well, birth.

Lucy and the five other thirteen and fourteen year olds had gone off with a mother of one of the girls. After days of being the seventh wheel on rides she was ready for a taste of freedom and being alone. If she was going to end up on rides by herself, she’d much rather they were rides she chose.

All this freedom finally gave Lois a chance to people watch. She had been watching the couple in line behind her for almost ten minutes now. She actually felt sorry for the guy. He was kind of cute in that homespun sort of way — dark brown hair and bespectacled. His blonde — enough said — girlfriend was piling on the sugary sweet-talk that Lois could tell was fake from a mile away; from here it was giving her a stomach ache.

Blondie was pouting at him and batting her eyelashes. “Come on, Scout. This line is for-ev-er. We’ll be here all afternoon. Why don’t we go on another ride? Pete, Rachel, and Joe went to Pirates of the Caribbean. I bet if we hurried we could join them in line.”

Lois wished they would. All Blondie’s whining was making her head throb.

“Lana, it wouldn’t be very fair to cut ahead of all those other people who had been waiting in line,” he countered, clearly not planning on giving up his spot. Good for him! Bad for Lois.

Blondie harrumphed into another pout, crossing her arms. “You’re no fun.”

Lois rolled her eyes, and she could’ve sworn the boyfriend caught her because a flash of amusement zipped across his features before disappearing. Wow! Homespun was quite handsome when he smiled.

Blondie thankfully didn’t speak again as the line moved forward. Then she splayed her hands across his broad chest. “Scout, you haven’t kissed me all day,” she nagged.

“It’s too hot,” he replied vaguely, not responding in-kind to her overly affectionate PDA.

It was hot, but Lois hadn’t met a teenage boy yet who would turn down a chance to press himself closer to a willing girlfriend — no matter the weather. Homespun was angry at Blondie, that was clear, but why? Lois wondered if she could figure it out before they got to the front of the line. There were so many annoying things about Blondie; narrowing it down would be difficult, but Lois was up to the challenge.

Blondie kissed Homespun’s neck and along his jaw to his mouth, and he seemed to stiffen in discomfort at the action. When he didn’t join in the kiss, Blondie gave up. She dropped the cutesy act, pouting and overly sweet affection, and spoke to her boyfriend in what Lois assumed was her normal voice, “I’m going to get soaked, Clark.”

Well, duh! That was the whole point of the ride.

“And?” Homespun replied, thinking along the same lines as Lois.

“This humidity has already done a number on my hair; if I get soaked I’m going to look like a drowned rat,” Blondie went on.

And? Lois wanted to say. Wasn’t the saying ‘drowned cat’, anyway? Rat fit Blondie better though. Why did Blondie come to the amusement park in that dress? Winds, water, dizziness, and long waits were to be expected and should be planned for. Blondie appeared ready more for a barn dance.

“I like the fifty foot drop. It makes me feel like I’m flying,” Homespun responded softly.

“Flying?” Blondie scoffed with a shake of her hair. “Just what you need on top of everything else.”

“Lana!” Homespun gasped, glancing at Lois who was trying to fade into the faux mountain façade of the line.

“Come off it, Clark, you’re too uptight,” Blondie hissed back. “Nobody here cares if you’re different. It’s not like they’ll ever see you again. Relax.”

Lois waited a full minute, counting to sixty and all, before glancing back at Homespun. He didn’t look all that different to her. She had no idea what Blondie was talking about.

The line moved forward and around a curve. From this vantage spot, Lois could see that the line continued on at least the same length they had already waited before disappearing inside. She bet that they had only gone through a third of the actual line. Suddenly, that lemonade she had drunk an hour before seemed to hit her bladder. She gazed at the seemingly endless line. She would never make it. If she left the line to hunt down a restroom, she’d have to start back at the end of the line again. She groaned.

“Are you okay?” Homespun asked, and Lois realized he was addressing her.

She smiled in embarrassment.

“Of course she’s fine, Clark. Even when nobody’s in trouble you insist on offering help,” Blondie grumbled.

Lois ground her teeth together and fought the impulse to shoot out her hand and give ol’ Blondie a good karate chop. Her sensei had taught her better than that; to only use her skills in defense, not to start an offense… no matter how offensive the person was.

“Actually,” Lois countered, disliking that Blondie had spoken for her. “I was thinking how they should have restrooms along the line if they were going to make us wait so long to get on a ride.”

“We would be more than happy to hold your place if you wanted to run off,” Homespun volunteered.

Lois’s bladder rejoiced. “Would you?” she asked.

“Oh, so it’s okay to hold a stranger’s place in line, but going and joining our friends wouldn’t be fair?” Blondie snapped.

Homespun ignored his girlfriend and said to Lois, “Go on. Your place will be here when you get back. I promise.” He was so nice. What in the world was he doing with a witch like Blondie?

One good deed deserved another. “You know, I think I saw a shop over near the restrooms. I bet you could get a hat or poncho so you didn’t get wet,” Lois suggested.

“No, I don’t…” Blondie started saying as if she wouldn’t want to go anywhere with Lois.

Lois couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like she was going to dunk Blondie in the river, no matter how much she deserved it.

“Yes!” Blondie changed her mind, even to Lois’s surprise. “That’s a great idea.” She wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s neck and kissed him. “Wait right here.”

Homespun raised a brow, and responded dryly, “With bells on.” Guess he didn’t appreciate being spoken to like a dog.

Lois wished she hadn’t made the suggestion. She wanted to spend less time with Blondie, not more, but it wouldn’t be a good deed if she wasn’t giving Homespun a few minutes of peace. She ducked under the ropes and Blondie paused as if she didn’t know what to do. Well, she shouldn’t have worn a dress to an amusement park. It was as smart as wearing high heels on a hike.

Homespun got an annoyed expression on his face and scooped Blondie up into his arms, like she weighed nothing, only to set her down on the other side of the rope.

“Thanks, Scout,” Blondie purred.

Lois rolled her eyes. “The ropes do have latches on each end if you can’t duck under,” she said.

“I know,” the girl responded. “Clark just likes any excuse to help people.”

It didn’t look that way to Lois. She pointed out the gift shop to Blondie and called, “I’ll meet you here when I get out.”

A few minutes later, feeling much refreshed, Lois returned to the gift shop. She looked all around, but didn’t see Blondie anywhere. She guessed Blondie wanted to be with Lois as much as Lois wanted to be her.

Lois was about to give up and head back to the ride, when she heard a familiar giggle. She couldn’t believe it! Homespun had promised to save her place in line. She came around the corner to confront him, only to find Blondie’s arms around a completely different man with sandy blond hair.

“Oh, Joe,” Blondie giggled again as ‘Joe’ kissed up her neck. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

Lois’s jaw dropped. Blondie was cheating on Homespun! Did he suspect? He must. No wonder he was mad at her. Why didn’t he stand up to her? Or dump her sorry butt?

“I can’t believe you! Your boyfriend is so nice. How can you cheat on him?” she roared.

Blondie paled and glanced over her shoulder back towards where they had left Homespun.

“Do you know her, Lana?” Joe asked nervously.

“Just some nosy kid next to us in line, Joe,” Blondie answered, before facing Lois. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, kid? I bet they didn’t hear you in Metropolis. You wouldn’t understand.”

Lois placed her hands on her hips and glared. She knew all about cheating and the aftermath of its destruction. “Why don’t you explain it to me then?” This should be good.

Blondie lowered her voice. “Scout isn’t like other guys.”

“He’s not?” Joe asked, surprised.

Blondie’s eyes widened as if she had forgotten about him. She pressed her lips together and turned back to Joe, hissing, “Clark wants to wait until marriage.”

Lois’s jaw dropped. What a witch! How could she disclose such a secret about her boyfriend to another man?

Joe roared with laughter.

Blondie pointed at him. “If you say one word…”

“I doubt anyone would be all that surprised. He is a Kent after all, and you know how upstanding they are,” Joe said this as if it was a bad trait. He wrapped his arms around Blondie’s waist and pulled her against his chest, running a hand up her leg and under her skirt. “Is that why you let me hit all those home runs?”

Blondie giggled and swatted away his hand.

Ugh. Lois had seen and heard enough. She started marching back towards the ride, but was having serious doubts about it. Did she want to be the one to inform Homespun that Blondie was stepping out on him?

Blondie chased after her and grabbed her arm. “Don’t tell Clark.”

Lois hadn’t been planning on it, but she didn’t want to be party to this deception if it wasn’t her decision. By telling her ‘not to tell’ Blondie had made up her mind for her. “Why didn’t you just break up with him, if you wanted to date Joe?”

“Look, I’m planning on telling him as soon as we return to Smallville tomorrow. I just didn’t want to ruin our senior class trip,” Blondie explained.

“Ruin it for who?” Lois retorted. She bet Homespun would have been much happier not to spend his whole senior trip with his unfaithful girlfriend.

“He’s such a straight arrow. Always having to do the right thing. Always insisting on helping everyone. It’s like he can’t help himself. I want a boyfriend not a boy scout. This will crush him.”

So far everything Lois had heard improved her image of Homespun, and worsened her opinion of Blondie.

“You don’t know Clark. He’s… different,” Blondie said again as her excuse.

Lois pressed her lips together. “How?”

Blondie paled, and lowered her voice. “Let’s just say he’s not like everyone else. He’s…” She stopped herself from saying too much.

“A virgin?” Lois filled in the blank. “You should try it sometime. It’s not as bad as being a cheating skank.” She marched back to the ride, planning on telling Homespun what a ‘ho’ his girlfriend was. She jumped the rope, and said, “Excuse me. Just heading back to my space,” to all the people between her and her spot.

Homespun was standing another ten feet further along than when they had left. He had his face buried in his hand.

Blondie’s words echoed in Lois’s ears. He would be crushed. Lois couldn’t bear to be the one to cause Homespun any more pain. With a sigh, she pushed her way along the line back to her spot.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Lana’s not coming back, is she?” Homespun asked softly after a minute.

“No.”

“Joe?”

Lois nodded. Well, now she knew why he was so mad at Blondie. She wished she didn’t though. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm in comfort.

“Me, too, but it wasn’t wholly unexpected,” he replied, glancing down at her hand, which was still on his arm.

Flushing, she removed it. Luckily the line moved, and the faux pas was forgotten.

Maybe not entirely forgotten as she couldn’t erase from her mind how strong and muscular and warm his arm had been. Blondie was stupid. If Lois was ever so lucky to have such a man interested in her, she would jump at the chance.

She blushed, her heart racing; she was embarrassed at where her thoughts had gone after one innocent touch. The last thing Homespun needed at this moment was to have the messenger of his break-up — a kid, no less — crushing on him.

“I’m not blind, you know, or stupid,” Homespun said, still speaking softly so the others in line couldn’t hear.

Lois didn’t have a response to that. She didn’t really want to talk about Blondie anymore.

“I’ve known about it for a while,” he said, chuckling with a shake of his head. “There are no secrets in Smallville.”

“Why didn’t you tell her you knew?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Ever since I told her something about myself I’d never told anyone else, she’s been acting odd. I kept hoping that all the clues she kept dropping was just my paranoia… I wanted to believe she wouldn’t do this to me. Maybe I am blind and stupid,” he groaned. “Do you know what she told me last month?” He shook his head. “She told me that she couldn’t go to prom with me, the guy she’s been dating all year, because her mom was making her go with Joe.”

“And you bought that?” Lois asked in disbelief.

Homespun laughed. “Well, yes… but you’ve got to know that her mom has always hated me. I’m from the wrong class.”

“There’s a class system in Smallville?” Lois asked incredulously. She had thought that Smallville was in America, not turn of the century England.

“Apparently. So, I went with Rachel Harris instead. Boy, did that ever tick Lana off.” He chuckled. “She wanted to have her cake and eat it too.”

“Putting aside your melodrama for a moment. What is with that saying?” Lois asked, moving forward with the line. “Don’t most people want to eat their cake? I mean if you don’t want to eat it, why not give it to someone who does? Why hoard it? It’s my cake, and I’m not going to eat it or share it with anyone!” Lois said with her best impression of an evil laugh.

Homespun roared with laughter at her joke, and his whole face lit up, making him twice as handsome. “Let me guess: philosophy major?”

Lois blushed. He thinks I’m in college. She decided not to correct this mistake. “Journalism.”

“Really? Me, too. I start Midwest U. in the fall,” Homespun said, almost gushing with excitement. “How about you?”

“Met U.,” Lois said, glancing away. She figured he must be eighteen, and she was almost seventeen. She wasn’t a kid, and he didn’t think so either.

“That’s a good school.”

“Yeah,” Lois said. She didn’t want to talk about colleges anymore. “I’m doing a summer internship at the Daily Planet.”

“Wow! That’s impressive. I’d give my eyeteeth to work at the Daily Planet,” he said. “I’m just working on the farm. Summer’s kind of our busy time.”

So, Homespun was a farm boy from a town so small they actually called it Smallville. No wonder his t-shirt clung to his chest and biceps. Lois had never really thought about all those people from small towns or from farming communities. She had just assumed they were all hicks. She realized she herself would’ve put Homespun into a class too, just as Blondie’s mom had. She looked down, ashamed to be lumped into such company.

“Do you live in Metropolis?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah.” She didn’t want to talk of home, even though this had been probably the longest and best conversation Lois had been a part of, with anyone outside of Lucy, since she arrived in Florida.

“How can you stand it? All those people! All that noise! This place drives me nuts. I guess when my folks signed me up they didn’t think about the screaming,” he said.

“You didn’t sign up for your own senior class trip?” she asked in amazement. She’d probably be the first one, just as an excuse to get away from her mom.

He blushed and looked down at his foot drawing crescents with his sneaker. “Money’s tight. I’m going to Midwest on a football scholarship.”

“Wait. You’re going on a football scholarship to study? Wow! You are full of surprises,” Lois said, wishing this guy would start saying something to make him less attractive. “Gee, when Blondie said you weren’t like everybody else, she wasn’t kidding.”

He blanched. “Lana said what about me?”

Good going there, Lane. It doesn’t matter how attracted you are to this guy, he’ll never be interested in you. “Nothing. Nothing.”

Homespun looked at her incredulously.

“Okay. Fine. She was trying to get me to understand why she’d cheat on a great guy like you, and she said you weren’t like everybody else,” Lois explained sticking her foot further into her mouth as he winced and leaned against the faux mountain wall in humiliation.

“I can’t believe she told you. I can’t believe I trusted her to keep my secret,” he mumbled.

Lois wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Please, don’t feel bad. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered.

He stood up straight, causing her arm to fall free. “I’m not ashamed. I’m proud of who I am,” he said, nodding. “Line’s moved.”

They moved forward.

“But then…” Lois shut her mouth. It was none of her business.

“I was just imagining what you thought of me,” he murmured. “That crazy guy from the line, who can’t even make his girlfriend happy.”

She cracked a smile. “Not that crazy. I came back, didn’t I?”

He looked her in the eye and said with utmost seriousness, “It’s a good ride. You didn’t want to lose your spot.”

“Damn straight!” she said, and then covered her mouth. Homespun was probably pretty religious to make a vow to wait until marriage in this day and age. Midwest farmer’s son and all. “Sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A journalism major who apologies for her choice of words?” he teased.

She laughed. “First Amendment.”

“All the way, baby!” he agreed.

“Don’t call me ‘baby’,” Lois insisted.

“Right. Sorry, women’s lib. You know everything about me, and I don’t even know your name,” Homespun said.

“No names,” she said, not wanting to think of him as anything more than Homespun.

“Just two strangers who cross in the night?”

That sounded awfully romantic, Lois thought, but she was only sixteen and not interested in going all the way with a guy yet. She smiled. The nice thing about Homespun was she knew he would never pressure her to. “Something like that,” Lois murmured, her voice rough. “Except that it’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“Right.”

“Blondie was right about one thing, though,” she said, and his eyes widened in anticipation of what that could be. “This line is taking for-ev-er!”

He laughed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Lois blushed.

“So, everybody here knows why I’m by myself. How about you?”

Lois told him her story as the line continued to meander back and forth until before they knew it, she was next.

“How many?” the attendant asked.

“Two,” Homespun answered for her.

“Four and five,” said the attendant, pointing to their seat assignments.

“Ladies first,” Homespun said, taking lane five.

They climbed into their boat and they were off. The boat went under an overhang and a sudden waterfall splashed Lois.

She squealed in surprise and could hear Homespun chuckling behind her. “That wasn’t funny,” she said, glancing back at him.

He grinned. “Yes, it was.”

Oh, so he thought it was funny when someone got wet, huh? She’d show him!

The ride went over a small dip and around the bend, through the darkness, and the singing diorama.

Lois started to sing along with “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah”. It was a catchy tune, and like “It’s a Small World” one that stuck with her.

Homespun whispered in her ear. “You have a beautiful voice.”

His breath on her damp neck sent shivers down her spine. The way they set up seating in these boats, it almost felt like she was sitting in his lap.

“Cold?” he asked against her neck again.

Cold? Hello? Florida. Mid-June! Lois shook her head and her ponytail flapped in the darkness. She took her hand off the bar in front of her as she turned back to look at him, and smiled. As she turned forward again, her hand dropped down and came in contact with his shin. She pulled her hand away quickly, not wanting him to think she had caressed his leg on purpose. She wasn’t that kind of girl, but with Homespun she might make an exception.

The boat went around another bend and climbed started to climb.

“This is it,” she heard him murmur.

The boat reached the top of the fifty foot drop and Lois’s eyes widened. She hadn’t remembered how big of a drop it really was. Instead of screaming, she bent forward and tucked herself up into a ball as the boat seemed to hover there for a moment before it fell.

SPLASH!

Everyone was laughing about how wet they were, everyone but Lois; she was bone dry. She glanced back at Homespun and he wasn’t wet; he was drenched. She started to laugh.

“I’m soaked!” he said, laughing. He shook the water off his arms. “How am I wet from head to toe and you’re hardly damp?”

Lois winked at him. “Trade secret.”

The boats stopped, and they disembarked.

She grabbed his glasses off his face. “Here, let me get those,” she said, drying the lenses on her dry cotton shirt.

His blue t-shirt clung to chest even more tightly than before, she noticed. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

“Wow. I wouldn’t even recognize you without your glasses. You look so different, like another guy entirely.”

“I do?” He seemed surprised by this revelation. “Better?”

She shrugged. “Different.” Better without the glasses and without the slicked back hair, but she knew better than to try to change something about someone they couldn’t help. If he needed the glasses to see, it wasn’t her place to tell him he’d look better without them. Either she liked someone for all of who they were, or none of it; it wasn’t right to pick and choose. She’d keep the wet t-shirt look though.

As they walked on, she handed back his glasses. They saw a bunch of people stopped in front of some video monitors.

“What?” Homespun asked, glancing at the pictures. He turned and pointed at her. “You ducked!”

Lois grinned, skipping back into the sunlight. “All’s fair in love and war!”

***

Firecracker

Clark watched the lithe nymph skip out of sight and felt he must be the luckiest man in the universe.

When he had laid eyes on her a mere hour before, he had thought his entire world was over. It was love at first sight and lying, cheating Lana was draped over him like a bad toupee.

Clark knew that Lana was having difficulty with the knowledge that he wasn’t like other guys, and she had sought comfort in Joe’s arms. He just hadn’t realized how much comfort. Why hadn’t he just confronted Lana at the hotel two nights before when he could hear them going at it from three floors away? Sure, he could have punched Joe for stealing his girlfriend, but Clark knew that Joe was taking an opportunity where he could. Joe was just that sort of guy; stab a guy in the back just to steal the coins from his front pocket. Anyway, Joe hadn’t seduced Lana away from Clark. She had gone willingly.

And Clark had let her go just as willingly.

He had spent the entire previous day with Pete and Rachel; Lana had said that all she wanted to do was lie by the pool. Fine by him. His friends knew something was up between them, but Clark knew this wasn’t the place to have a fight, especially when — knowing Lana — yelling would be involved, and things that he really didn’t want said could be screamed for everyone to hear. So, he had tried to put off the inevitable until they got back to Smallville, and Lana could scream at him until the cows came home… literally.

Lana must have realized he knew something was up by his cool behavior. Not that their relationship had been very hot lately, especially after he told her that he thought he should wait until marriage. That was when the whole conversation about his abilities had come out. He had been gaining these different abilities for the past few years, and he wanted to wait until he was more mature and had more control over his new powers. Clark hadn’t meant for them to come out then, or like that, but she had demanded to know why. Instead of being understanding and willing to wait, Lana had gone in the other direction.

His folks hadn’t agreed with his choice about telling Lana, but they had told him that he was eighteen now and had to face the consequences for his own actions. The decision about whom he could trust and who would have him turned over to a lab to be dissected like a frog, now lay solely with him.

This morning, for some reason, Lana had insisted on playing the part of the dutiful girlfriend, not that anyone had bought the act. Clark had actually separated them from the group to tell her to cut it out and stop acting all fake, when he suddenly had become sidetracked. He hadn’t really meant to follow the pretty brunette into line at Splash Mountain, especially with Lana on his arm. There was just something about how this girl’s heart beat that had hooked him around the neck like a leash and dragged him along.

Now, she was alone, and he was alone, and Clark wanted nothing more than to be alone together with this girl… woman. He had to stop thinking of women as girls. He wasn’t in high school anymore. He was a man, and that person, who had gotten him soaked on the log ride, was most certainly a woman. A woman who wanted to be a reporter, just like him. It was kismet.

He couldn’t believe he met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with already, and, he laughed, in line at Disney World. She was going to think he was rebounding from Lana’s deception.

Was he?

No, what he was feeling for this girl… woman — geez, he wished he knew her name — was so different from anything he had ever felt before. He had gazed into her eyes and, not only did he feel like he could do anything, he had felt as if he could literally float.

His dad had once told Clark that he had to be careful around firecrackers. Get too close, and he could get burned; put one in his hand, and he’d have a life-changing experience. That was what this girl reminded him of — something that required that kind of warning label. She had exploded into his life like a firecracker, so he had been calling her that in his mind: his little life-altering firecracker.

Clark turned the corner into the sunshine and realized she was gone. Please tell him that wasn’t it! His heart froze in his throat.

Then, her words echoed in his mind: All’s fair in love and war.

Well, if that was the case…

He closed his eyes and listened. There she was, over to the right. He opened his eyes and scanned in that direction. He found her leaning against a railing, looking straight at him. Was she wondering “what’s next” too? He didn’t care as long as whatever came next included her.

He made a beeline directly to her and hoped he didn’t use any extra speed to do so. Was she testing him? How much about his abilities had Lana told her? Was Firecracker seeing if it was true? Or was she trying to lose him: that weird recently-dumped guy who had latched on to her at Splash Mountain? Her smile that greeted him told him he was welcome.

“Hi,” Clark said, somewhat breathlessly, not because he was breathless from rushing over to her — hardly! — but because she simply took his breath away.

“Hi,” she replied, almost shyly. In line they had had an excuse to talk. Now, if they stayed together, it was a choice. He had made his, had she?

“I bet you want to go find your friends, now. You don’t have to stay with me. I’m used to being alone,” she said, and his heart ached for her.

Was Firecracker giving him the big brush off? Or was she just giving him an ‘out’ in case he wanted to leave?

“Nah!” Clark said, trying — he hoped — for casual nonchalance as he leaned against the railing next to her. “I can be with them anytime.” He only had this one day to be with Firecracker and he planned on making the most of it.

He heard her stomach rumble, surprised that he was so attuned to her. It had taken weeks of practice to recognize Lana’s heartbeat, but with Firecracker it had been the first thing he had noticed. It was as if all the extra noises that had pounded his head upon coming to this place faded away. Oxymoronic as it might sound, but being with Firecracker was like finally finding his peace and quiet.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked. “I think one of the cafes over in Fantasyland has fruit and salads?”

Terrific; for a moment there, she had looked at him like he was nuts. “Do you have a special diet that you need to follow? Because I, myself, have a hankering for a hotdog.”

“I thought…” Clark shook his head. He thought because Lana ate like a bird to try to keep her figure just so, that every woman did, especially one as beautiful as this one. “Hotdogs sound perfect.”

Would it be wrong to ask Firecracker to marry him at this moment?

She hopped off the railing with the grace of a gazelle and started heading off, and he slid right in step with her. He liked the way Firecracker walked. She walked fast as if she knew where she was going and wanted to get there as quickly as possible. He smiled. He was a fan of speed himself.

Firecracker didn’t stop, never slowing down, weaving in and out of the crowds like an expert, until they had reached the snack bar line. He wondered what she was like behind the wheel of a car.

“Why don’t I get this? Do you want to… uh… dry off?” she suggested, reaching out and placing her hand briefly on his chest. He had forgotten that he was soaking wet.

Had Lana told her about his heat-vision?

“Sure. Thanks,” he said hesitantly. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head, reminding him that a guy always paid for meals. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Let me…”

Firecracker pushed against his chest. “Go already!” She grinned at him. “My treat.”

Clark wanted to protest, but he knew Firecracker was a modern woman from the big city. Would she interpret his being a gentleman as him being a chauvinistic pig? Did he really want to waste precious minutes arguing with her over this? “I’ll get the next one,” he insisted, if for no other reason but for them to still be together at suppertime.

When he came out a few minutes later, Firecracker was leaning against the snack bar counter, tapping her foot to a tune playing through the speakers overhead. He had never seen anyone look more alluring doing nothing. He swallowed.

“Great! You’re back,” she said as he walked up. She picked up two hotdogs in one hand and a drink. “Your lunch is on the counter.”

Clark found two more hotdogs and a lemonade. He cracked a grin. If she kept this up, Smallville might never see him again. He sat down next to her at the small table she had chosen and accidentally bumped her leg with his. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but didn’t move his leg away.

Firecracker polished off one of her hotdogs and then pulled out her map of the park from her back pocket. She spread it out on the table between them. Picking up her lemonade and taking a long sip, she asked, “Where would you like to go?”

He wanted to say, ‘anywhere she went’, but he figured that sounded more corny than the Smallville Corn Festival. “Let’s see…” he said, leaning forward and scanning the map. One name popped out at him: Spaceship Earth. “Have you checked out Epcot Center yet?” he asked. Lana had refused to go to that section of the park for obvious reasons.

“Nope. It was packed our first day. The girls preferred to get their inner princess on, so we mostly hung out around Magic Kingdom, and we never made it back,” she said, leaning back. “I was planning on hitting it today, but Splash Mountain had called out to me.” Her leg slid along his until her ankle hooked around his.

Clark closed his eyes, and held his breath. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it, or she’ll move it away. But he couldn’t ignore it as her touch made his heart race. He must have stiffened in the process of trying to act natural and she, misinterpreting, moved her foot away. He could breathe again, but felt bereft from the loss.

Firecracker nudged his shoulder with hers and kick-started his heart again. “So, where do you see yourself in ten years?” she asked.

With you, was the obvious answer, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “I’d like to travel the world, and learn some languages. This is really my first big trip out of Smallville.”

“Do you have a passport?” she asked, taking another bite of her hotdog, leaving a bit of mustard on the edge of her top lip. She licked it away with her tongue, and he took off his glasses to wipe away the steam.

“Uh… no,” he said.

“First thing you need to do when you return home is to get one. A good reporter needs to be ready to go where the action is at a moment’s notice. I’ve been building up a briefcase with anything a reporter might need to have at a moment’s notice,” she said. “You’re a boy scout, what do you suggest should be in there?”

Clark flushed. How had Firecracker known he’d been a boy scout? Then he remembered that Lana had used her ‘Scout’ nickname, while they had stood in line.

Firecracker put her hand on his arm for a moment. “I’m putting you on the spot. Sorry,” she said with a smile. “If I get too intense, just let me know; it’s one of my flaws. I’ve never met anyone my age who already knows they want to be a journalist, like me. That’s why I’m so excited about my internship at the Daily Planet, to see an actual working daily newspaper in action. I’m hoping to follow around real journalists, but I’ll probably be nothing more than a gofer: fetching coffee, making copies, sorting mail, taking messages, and that sort of thing.” She stopped to take a sip of her lemonade.

He brushed passed her error that she had flaws. She had never met anyone her age who wanted to be a journalist? His brow furrowed. She couldn’t already be at Met. U. without having met other Journalism majors, therefore, she hadn’t started college. If she was just about to start college, she probably would have visited Met U.’s journalism department, being that she lived in the city, or at least stopped by the offices of the university newspaper, so he concluded she hadn’t graduated high school yet. How old was Firecracker? Or, more correctly, how young was she? His eyes widened. He accidentally on purpose dropped his napkin. When he got out of his chair to pick it up, he scooted his chair an inch further away before sitting back down.

Clark picked up his second hotdog and thought this through as he took a bite.

Firecracker was an intern at the largest and most important newspaper in the country, if not the world. By law they couldn’t hire anyone under the age of sixteen, ipso facto, Firecracker had to be at least sixteen. That wasn’t so bad. He was eighteen. Pete had a girlfriend back home who was sixteen; perfectly legal as long as they didn’t do anything.

He sighed in relief. Well, marriage was certainly off the table. He chuckled. Had he really wanted to get married at eighteen anyway?

She glanced over at him with curiosity. She had such a maturity about her both in looks and personality that he had naturally assumed she was as old, if not older, than him. That was girls for him, always keeping him on, or knocked off, his toes. She hadn’t corrected his assumption, though. Was she telling him the truth about the Daily Planet? He figured with her rambling on about the internship, she was.

Firecracker popped the last bite of her hotdog into her mouth, picked up the map, and grabbed his hand. “Come on, Farm Boy, let me show you the world,” she said.

Well, if she insists, Clark thought, allowing her to drag him to the nearest monorail station.

While Spaceship Earth wasn’t exactly what he had hoped, a planetarium type show, it was still an interesting time-travel look at Earth’s history.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Firecracker said, after they had walked out of the exhibit.

“Just thinking,” he said.

She had stood next to him on the moving sidewalk, and his arm had naturally gone around her waist, so they wouldn’t get separated. They were a perfect fit, her and him. When they stepped back into the light, his arm had fallen off, and he was thinking of a way to get it back there. Maybe somehow move it to her shoulders. Something more subtle than the yawn and stretch move, which he had seen other guys use.

“I’d like to go there someday,” Firecracker said.

“Where?” Clark asked, as they hadn’t been talking about any place in particular.

“Space. I’d love to be the first journalist to travel into space.”

“Me, too,” he murmured in agreement.

She elbowed him in the gut. “Well, you can’t; I’ve called dibs.”

He laughed. “Fine. The first male journalist in space.”

“What a story that’d be, huh?” she said, almost wistfully.

“Woman reporter tops man in space?” Clark teased, showing her the future headline.

“What?” she gasped, giving him a sharp look.

“Beats! Beats man into space,” he hastily corrected.

Her lips were still pressed together as she raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Don’t get smart with me,” Firecracker said, folding her arms.

Not possible, apparently.

“I’m perfectly serious. I’m going into space someday, and it’s going to be the story of the century. You’ll see,” she said, pointing at him. She hadn’t been joking about her intensity.

“Then you’ll have to take me with you,” he responded, tweaking her nose. “Because I’ve always wanted to float.”

“Learn to swim.”

They were standing at the edge of the lake. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder in perfect timing. “If you throw me in there, I’m bringing you with me.”

Firecracker laughed. “Trust me, big boy, you don’t want to see me wet.”

Clark grinned, doubting her statement. “We’ll see about that.”

“Don’t challenge me, or you’ll know what it’s like to get soaked twice in one day,” she replied.

That warning he decided not to discount.

She took hold of his hand and started leading him through the crowds again, and around the lake, where they came to the Mexican pavilion, or the first nation in the World Showcase. “Told you, I’d show the world.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” he said, having a sudden urge to kiss her. So, he did. On the cheek.

“Wise policy,” she responded, pointing to a ride. “Ready to get on another boat?”

Clark patted his chest. “Yep. I’m dry.”

Unlike their previous experience, this boat ride was more like the tunnel of love: a dark, romantic, gentle cruise through Mexico’s history. Although, in all fairness to Splash Mountain, that had been where Clark had met Firecracker. So, in a sense, it had been the tunnel of love, too.

Firecracker leaned her head against Clark’s chest after he wrapped his arm around her shoulder once more. If just holding her in his arms made his body tingle with excitement, what would a kiss do? He needed to plan the right moment. He didn’t want to rush things or he would scare her off. He was older, and probably more experienced in these matters, but he was so nervous about timing it just right. It would be their first kiss, but hopefully not their last. He was moving faster than he ever had before, because he only had this one day. If he never had the chance to see his true love again, at least they would have this one perfect day.

His opportunity approached as the boat entered a plaza with fireworks projected overhead. She pointed at them and glanced over at him with a smile. This was it. His big moment.

“Isn’t this romantic?” she asked, and then her eyes went wide with shock. “Not that I’m asking you to kiss me or anything.” Her eyes went wider. “You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. We haven’t even exchanged names. Probably best if you don’t kiss me. Forget that I even brought it up.” Then she hunched into a ball of obvious embarrassment. The moment was lost, and the ride ended.

Firecracker was quiet, which was strange for her. She talked like she walked, at a hundred miles per hour with direction and a purpose.

There was a little shaded notch in a wall, and Clark pulled her into it. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said with enough force that he didn’t believe her.

A lock of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail, and he brushed it back. “Would you like me to kiss you?” Because he would, if she did, just to be a gentleman and all.

She glanced down at their feet, and murmured, “I’ve never really been kissed.”

“A beautiful girl like you?” Clark said in surprise. “Are all the guys in Metropolis idiots?”

Firecracker’s eyes flashed into his. “I said ‘really’. Of course, I’ve been kissed. Just not ‘really’. Not by a guy I really wanted to kiss me. Not by a guy who really wanted to kiss me. Scratch that. They all wanted to kiss me, but they were really bad at it. You know what I mean?”

He smiled. He could guess. “Shall I wait for another romantic moment, or shall we just get it over with now?”

Clark was hoping for now, because if he kissed her now, then he’d probably be able to kiss her again later as well. But after that review of the other kisses she had received, he got a little self-conscious. What if she didn’t like his kiss either? He had only kissed three, no four girls. He hadn’t received any complaints, but this kiss was more important than all those other girls combined. Because this kiss would be with her.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Firecracker asked softly as if unsure of his answer. “This isn’t some rebound jealousy-inducing thing for Blondie, is it?”

“Who?” he asked, being purposely obtuse.

“Blondie. Your girlfriend,” she said with emphasis.

“There’s no one besides you,” Clark whispered, meaning every word.

“Eeep!” she squealed, her eyes widening probably because he was close enough to kiss her at that very second. “Then you better wait until you find a romantic moment and then kiss me until my toes curl.”

His brow furrowed. “Until your toes what?”

“I heard once that a really good kiss will make a girl’s toes curl.”

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” he inquired.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

“No pressure or anything,” he grumbled, placing his lips on her forehead, because after all this talk of kissing he needed to reward his mouth.

“Oh!”

“Oh?”

“That felt nice,” she murmured. “You have soft lips.”

He smiled. There was more where that came from. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Oh!”

Clark moved towards her mouth, but she put up her hand and stopped him.

“No?”

“I thought we agreed on later, during a romantic moment,” she said.

“We had. This is later, and I thought it was romantic,” he said.

“It was? Oh, and I just ruined it again,” she groaned. “What made it romantic?”

The moment was over anyway now. He took her arm and led her back into the sunshine.

“Well?” Firecracker asked.

There was just no getting away from the question, was there?

“There was all that talk of kissing, and you said my lips were soft,” he replied, not really wanting to discuss it. If he had to explain why it was romantic, it must not have been very romantic for her. “And it was you.”

“What was me?” she asked.

“I was kissing you, and that’s what made it romantic… for me,” he explained.

“Oh. Oh!” Firecracker stopped. They were out in the open, walking into another land’s pavilion. The bright early evening sun washed out the color, and the humidity tempted even him to perspire. “And I stopped you. Sorry. Kiss me now.”

He grinned and slid his hand into hers. “Nope.” He started walking, and she had to follow.

“Why not?”

“Not romantic enough,” he said with a wink.

“I’m still me. You’re still you. We’re still us. What’s not romantic?” Firecracker pressed on. She’d make a fine reporter someday, in that she never gave up.

“I like the sound of that,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“What?”

“Us.” He smiled.

“What if I kissed you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t stop you,” Clark said with a grin. That was a true statement.

“But it wouldn’t count,” Firecracker said with a nod.

“Why not?” It would count for him.

She rolled her eyes. “If I kissed you, instead of you kissing me, how in the world would my toes curl? Therefore, it wouldn’t count.”

“You might make my toes curl,” he teased with a wink.

“In your dreams.”

Guaranteed.

“Anyway, I want to experience my toes curling, so if I make your toes curl, I’m not experiencing it, you are,” Firecracker explained. “I need to experience life to the fullest, how else will I ever be able to write about it?”

Clark tugged her into a gift shop, found the silliest pair of Minnie ears and stuck them on her head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

“Changing the subject.”

She laughed, and ducked around the other side of the display, pulling out a pair of equally silly Goofy ears, attached to a Mad Hatter’s hat and plopped it down on his head.

“No, no. This won’t do,” Clark said, shaking his head, making his Goofy ears wave.

“Why not?” she giggled.

“Because Goofy would never make Minnie’s toes curl,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her nose.

Her eyes twinkled. “So, true!” She pulled the hat off his head and stuck it back on the display and set down her Minnie ears. “I’ve got an idea.”

She tugged his hand and pulled him to the other side of the store. There was a hideous selection of ties, most of which had silhouettes of Mickey Mouse on them. Out of the group, she pulled one that looked like it had been splattered by cartoonist paint, and one that looked like a rain of fireworks. She looped the cartoon splotch tie around his neck and proceeded to tie it.

“What are you doing?” Clark asked.

“You’re going to be a professional soon. You’ll need to start wearing ties,” she said.

“Not that tie,” he corrected.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because it looks like a mistake,” he said, with his hands on his hips.

“It has style,” Firecracker said.

“Not my style,” Clark informed her.

“Then what’s your style?” she asked.

“Not that!” he said, laughing.

“Fine! Pick your own ties,” she snapped, pulling it over his head and dumping it back on the display. “I just wanted you to have something to remember me by,” she whispered.

He cupped her jaw in his palm. “Who says I won’t remember you?” He would never forget her.

Firecracker looked around and plucked something off a display and took it to the cashier.

“No. You don’t need… Please, don’t waste your money,” he said, as she completely ignored him.

She turned around and pinned a black feather on his t-shirt.

“What is this for?”

“So you can fly.”

Clark flushed. “You listened to every word of our conversation, didn’t you?” he murmured.

She shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

He glanced around the shop. “I should get you something.”

Firecracker set her hand on his shoulder, and leaned close, whispering, “Make me curl my toes, and I promise you I’ll never forget you.”

Clark cleared his throat. “Challenge accepted. I’ll make your toes curl, if it takes all night.”

She blushed demurely. “I’m meeting my sister on Main Street by ten.”

He slid his hand into hers and ran from the store. “Then we best start waiting in the next line.”

They went on a couple more rides, then ate dinner — his treat — over at the Chinese pavilion. Firecracker hadn’t stopped talking the entire time. She had an opinion on everything and wasn’t shy about expressing it, but she didn’t discount his ideas and opinions either. They talked about politics, art, movies, and music. She had told him why she hated her family, and he had told her why he loved his. By the time they hopped back on the monorail to return to the Magic Kingdom, Clark knew he could spend the rest of his life talking with her.

Firecracker had suggested that for their final ride of the evening, they do another round on Splash Mountain. The line wasn’t as long as it had been when the sun was overhead, but it was still long enough that they missed watching the sunset, or maybe it was because he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

It was dark outside by the time they got their seat assignments for the boat.

“You’re going to get soaked,” Firecracker warned him.

“I’m waterproof,” Clark replied with a grin.

The next boat pulled forward, but before the gates opened, Firecracker waved her index finger at him.

“What?” he asked.

She pressed a quick kiss onto his lips that he felt down to his toes.

The gates opened and she stepped forward, but he still stood there in a daze.

“Come on,” she coaxed.

“I don’t think I should go,” Clark murmured.

Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“Electricity and water don’t mix,” he replied.

Firecracker pulled him towards the boat. “Get in!”

Oh, how could she tease him at that very moment with a kiss? He felt like he was going to float into the air, he was so happy. If he felt like this from a little peck, what would happen when he finally kissed her? He had it all planned out; it would happen when…

Firecracker set her hand on his leg, and not only left it there, started caressing it. She shouldn’t do things like that. Someone could get hurt.

The ride seemed to move faster, and yet slower at the same time. Faster since Clark knew it was the last ride that they had time for. Slower, because he knew he would kiss her when it was over. Before he knew it they were teetering over the edge of the fifty foot drop again.

Firecracker screamed and then ducked. As the water came towards him in a torrential rush, he exhaled, pushing some of the water forward and over the seat in front of him, drenching his hot little Firecracker.

“Ooh! I’m soaked!” she growled, and then laughed with a shake of her head, spraying off the water. “How did that happen?”

Clark shrugged sheepishly.

“Great,” she grumbled. “I warned you that you didn’t want to see me wet,” she said, stepping out of the boat and turning towards him. Through her pastel lavender t-shirt he could see a hot pink bra.

He gulped.

“Your glasses are fogged again,” Firecracker laughed, removing them. “Only this time, I don’t have a dry shirt.”

Why else would his glasses be steamed?

Clark let the group from their run pass them out the exits; he took her hand and led her over to the side. “Spread your arms and close your eyes,” he whispered.

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Trust me.”

She shrugged and compiled.

Scanning down the front of her, he dried her shirt to barely damp, and no longer see-through.

“Whoa,” she said with a shiver. “They’ve got heat lamps! Mmmm. That felt good.”

Clark grabbed her arm and led her outside. “Only at night,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” she said, patting her shirt. “They’re amazing. I’m practically dry, and you’re still soaked.”

A loud explosion thundered overhead. “What the…?”

“Fireworks!” she gasped.

Then Clark remembered that they had always returned to the hotel before the fireworks show, due to the noise upsetting his sensitive hearing. Now, he was caught right under it. He winced as another loud explosion rocketed the air.

“You okay?” she asked, looking at him and not the fireworks.

“Fine,” he lied as another bang made him tense.

Firecracker set her hands over his ears, trying to deafen the sound. He gazed down at her big doe eyes staring up at him.

Another, and another, and another explosion of color and thunder boomed overhead. With each one Clark sank lower to the ground. They were mostly alone here in this section of the park with everyone else at the lagoon for best fireworks viewing. He was thankful for that, at least.

Firecracker still had her hands over his ears, and he was holding his hands over hers. She gazed at him with worry. “It’s just fireworks, Clark. You’ll be okay,” she reassured him. He could barely hear her over the ringing in his ears.

“It’s so loud,” he mumbled. Even Kansas thunderstorms weren’t this loud. Well, at least not for this long.

She pulled his head to her, so that one ear pressed against her chest and the other one was covered by her arms surrounding it. His strange reaction to the fireworks didn’t scare her, but instead brought out a nurturing side she had never shown.

“You’ll be all right soon,” she murmured, over and over.

Before long, all he could hear was her soft voice and the beat of her heart with the occasional thunderous boom, which didn’t seem so bad now. He could feel her fingers running through his hair. It felt wonderful.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, knowing he had ruined the last romantic moment of the day.

She shrugged. “My sister used to react the same way whenever our parents fought.”

“I’m not used to loud noises,” he said feebly, by way of an excuse.

“Really? Hadn’t noticed,” she teased.

Clark knew that he couldn’t let this be her final impression of him. He still owed her a souvenir.

He stood up. The noise of the fireworks, still exploding overhead, no longer bothered him as long as he concentrated on her heartbeat. Glancing around he found an even more secluded spot on a pathway shaded by trees. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the alcove.

Clark ran his fingers over her cheek. “Thank you,” he said.

Firecracker looked up at him, and he could hear her heartbeat increase, which made him smile. She knew what was coming and she was excited by the prospect. So was he.

His hand curved around to the back of her head as his mouth moved towards hers. Softly, gently he applied pressure, but not too much. After the first few feather light kisses, he opened his mouth to deepen it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands moved down her back to her waist. They both pulled the other closer.

Clark didn’t know about her but, while his toes weren’t curling, he felt as if they were floating. Up above the trees, the air felt fresher, less humid, more smoky from the fireworks, more electrically charged. The thunder from the fireworks seemed louder, but not as loud as Firecracker’s heart beating. He tightened his grip around her waist.

He knew he couldn’t fly; that this was just an illusion of the kiss. He neither opened his eyes nor removed his lips from hers, not wanting this beautiful weightless feeling, this moment, this kiss, to end.

Firecracker moaned and pressed her body more against his. He hadn’t thought that they could get closer without him breaking his vow. He had been wrong. He could feel every point where their bodies joined. It became unexpectedly quiet. A cool breeze reminding him of the dampness of his clothes with only the faint echo of distant fireworks.

Suddenly, it was very important that she knew his name; between kisses, he whispered, “I’m…”

“Clark Kent, I know,” Firecracker murmured, breathlessly. She was going to make one hell of a reporter. “I’m…”

Her name got lost in another crack of fireworks, louder now for some reason. Their kiss deepened again, and he went back to concentrating on the beat of her heart. Eventually, Clark felt the ground under his feet return, and as the fireworks had stopped, he knew their time together had come to an end.

He let go just enough to gaze into her eyes, smiling.

Firecracker returned his smile and licked her lips. “Now I’ve been kissed,” she said and her smile broadened into a grin. “No way I’ll forget you now, Clark Kent.”

Clark bent to kiss her again, but they were interrupted by a crowd of people leaving the lagoon and headed past them.

Her eyes widened. “The fireworks! They started at nine thirty! I’m supposed to meet Lucy at ten. I’m so late!” And before Clark could ask her name, she melted into the crowd and disappeared.

“Wait!” he called, but she was gone.

Clark closed his eyes to listen for her heartbeat again, but there was too much noise now that she was gone from his side. What had she said earlier? She had to meet her sister on Main Street, wasn’t it? He took off faster than he should, careful that he neither touched anyone nor was seen going too fast. When he reached Main Street a few minutes later, he still couldn’t find her. Even with his abilities, had he gotten there too late?

A hand clasped his shoulder. “There you are, man. We haven’t seen you all day. Rachel headed back to the hotel an hour ago to look for you,” his friend Pete said, suddenly beside him. “Where’s Lana? You guys kiss and make up?”

“She’s with Joe,” Clark mumbled, still scanning the crowd filing past them searching, hoping that Firecracker was among them.

“Sorry, man, I know…”

“I’m not,” Clark replied.

Pete chuckled. “Finally! Does this mean I can stop being nice to her?”

Clark glanced at his best friend. “That was being nice?”

As Pete shrugged, Clark continued to look for the brown-haired girl with the big brown eyes.

“Man, what have you’ve been doing, Clark? You’re soaking wet and you’ve got leaves in your hair,” his friend chortled, picking them out.

Clark had no idea how those got there.

“Lois!” screamed a girl. “We’ve been waiting forever. Where have you been?”

Clark heard a familiar heartbeat, turned his head and saw a group of young teenage girls, one of who launched herself into Firecracker’s arms. He smiled. Lois. It was a name as unique as Firecracker herself.

“Ew,” Lois’s sister said, plugging her nose and her eyes widened. “Lois Lori Lane, have you been smoking? Daddy is so going to kill you!”

“No, I haven’t been smoking, Lucy. I’d never do that!” Lois made a face.

“Well, you totally reek of smoke. We’ll tell Daddy you went to a bonfire. Were you hanging with some smokers?”

“Smoking hot,” Lois mumbled, causing Clark to grin. He’d accept that answer. He watched as her brow furrowed, and she lifted her shoulder to her nose, sneering. “How did that happen?”

Clark watched as she froze, her hand coming to her lips, and then her head tilted up to gaze at the sky, entirely oblivious to Lucy’s yammering on about her own day. Lois smiled, and whispered, “He really is like nobody else.” She didn’t seem to think that was a drawback.

“Hello? Earth to Clark? Whatcha been doing?” Pete said. “Leaving me and Rach high and dry without our best bud on our last day here.”

Clark nodded towards Lois. “I met someone.”

Pete turned and followed his gaze. “Who? What? Where?”

“The brunette with that bunch of kids,” Clark murmured, unable to take his eyes off Lois.

“That mousey girl with the pigtail? Oh, man, she’s so rebound material.”

Clark glared at him. How could he think Lois was mousey? She was ravishing.

Lois glanced over and caught him starting.

Clark grinned and waved.

Her face lit with a smile, before her sister grabbed her arm. “Come on, Lois! Dad’s going to kill us; we’re so late.”

“Chill, Lucy,” Lois said absently. “He probably won’t even notice.” She broke eye contact with Clark as she turned to leave. She glanced over her shoulder one more time and whispered a husky, “Thanks for curling my toes, Farm Boy.” Then she was gone.

Clark grinned. Oh, he definitely was going to marry that woman someday.

Pete elbowed him. “Really? Her?”

“She’s a firecracker.”

“Really? Her?”

Clark shrugged as they started moving towards the exit themselves. “Hey, have you ever heard of ‘curling a girl’s toes’?”

Pete looked at him as if he was nuts. “Is that a good thing?”

“Apparently.”

“Who knew?” Pete said, in disbelief. Then groaned. “Great. One more thing we don’t know about girls. We’re never going to understand them, are we?”

Clark chuckled. “That’s the game, man. The trying.” And what a game it was.

***

Epilogue

Daily Planet…

“That’s right, Professor Carlton called me about you. I haven’t seen him in…” Perry White looked over Clark’s resume. “Let’s see here. Editor, Smallville Press. Where’s that?”

“Kansas, Mr. White,” Clark explained. He couldn’t believe he was here: The Daily Planet. The best newspaper in the world, interviewing with the Editor-in-Chief, and somewhere wandering about was a brunette Firecracker.

Mr. White’s phone rang, and he held up a finger to Clark before answering it. “Oh, tell him to keep his pants on…” he shouted. “If Carlini’s can’t deliver on time, find a place that can!” Mr. White started to take his pulse, glancing over at Clark. “Can you believe I had to buy a blood pressure monitor last week?”

Clark nodded. “Paava leaves.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The Yolngu tribe in New Guinea eat paava leaves to relieve stress. It puts them in a meditative state. Maybe you should try it,” Clark suggested, hoping to impress this man with his vast knowledge.

“Oh, well, I see you’ve done some traveling.”

“Well…” Clark said with a smile and shrug. “A bit.” He opened his briefcase to pull out his writing samples. “I have some samples of my work.”

“Oh, good,” replied Mr. White, taking the papers from Clark. “Good. Let’s take a look.” He paused at the first one. “The Borneo Gazette: ‘Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko’?” He swallowed. “Kent, I’m sure these are fascinating stories, but you see, son, this is the Daily Planet…” he started to say, when a woman with a brunette bob burst into his office. “Lois! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” He indicated Clark, who was rising out of his seat.

Lois Lane. She was even more beautiful than she had been all those years ago. All those memories and feelings rushed back over him. He still loved her on second sight.

She nodded to Clark, immediately dismissing him. “I think there’s a story here. I think we should have this guy checked out- you know the crazy one from this morning. He was an engineer at EPRAD…”

Clark’s heart, which had rose with anticipation of this meeting, thudded into his shoes. She didn’t remember him. Why would she? He knew her for less than a day all those years ago. For him, not one day went by without him checking the Daily Planet for her byline and thinking of her. Before that, he had gotten copies of the Metropolis University newspaper sent to Midwest U’s library so he could read her stories. He had been building up his experience, trying to find a place where he fit, but in reality he was working his way here, to her. He always knew she was what he wanted.

“Lois, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” Mr. White said, indicating Clark.

Her gaze returned to him as Mr. White introduced them. “Lois Lane… Clark Kent.”

Lois’s eyes widened as a grin appeared, and she grabbed Clark’s hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. “Clark Kent? The Clark Kent? Of course, you are. What an honor to finally meet you.”

She knew who he was? As a reporter? “Um… yeah. You too, Ms. Lane.”

“The Clark Kent?” Mr. White questioned with a brow raised with disbelief.

Uh-oh. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Yes, the Clark Kent. I’ve been following his career for years,” Lois said, grabbing his portfolio out of Mr. White’s hands.

She had? Why? Did she remember him?

Lois started flipping through the portfolio, and rolled her eyes at his first article. “The Knob-Tailed Gecko story is first? I mean, it’s a cute science piece, but really, first? Oh, please, Perry; don’t tell me you dismissed Mr. Kent here because he had put his stories in chronological order, instead of order of importance? You really should put that story about catching those Jamaican gunrunners towards the top. It was amazing, even though it was one of your early stories. Oh, the human interest piece on the Nigerian Princess before her wedding to…” She waved her hand, searching but coming up short. “What’s his name? I loved the bit when she taught you how to waltz. Then there’s that story about following the smuggled Chinese indentured servants to Gotham City. Top rate. You should really translate it into English though.” She flipped through the stories in his portfolio and bringing those to the forefront. “And, of course, Mr. Kent is the one who scooped me on the Congolese gun runners. I arrived two days after he left.” She shot him a scowl.

Clark’s jaw hung open. His portfolio, she was completely disorganizing it.

“What?” stammered Mr. White, grabbing the file out of her hand, and going through it again.

Lois smiled at Clark and winked.

Did she remember him?

Mr. White glanced up and then between the two of them, his eyes narrowing. He pointed both his middle and index finger at Lois and then moved it to Clark. “How long have you two known each other?”

“You just introduced us, Perry,” Lois said innocently.

Clark smiled, remembering why he had fallen in love with her at first sight.

Mr. White pointed at Lois again. “You, out.”

“You should give him that theatre piece, on trial. He’ll prove himself to you,” Lois said, not budging.

“I assigned you the theatre piece,” Mr. White reminded her, pointing towards the door again.

“And? That mushy stuff is his forte, anyway,” Lois said, heading for the door.

Mushy stuff?

“Lois, I expect my reporters to do the assignments assigned to them!” Mr. White barked.

“Just give him the job already; I need him to help me with the Messenger story,” Lois said, not backing down.

“You want to partner with him?” Mr. White said.

Lois smiled at Clark again. “A reporter of his caliber, definitely. My tenacity. His tact. My cutting the red tape; his following the rules. Metropolis won’t know what hit it.” She shut the door after passing through it.

Mr. White looked at Clark suspiciously, placing his hand on his pulse again. “If she wasn’t the best damn reporter I’ve ever worked with… How long have you known Lois?”

Nope, the editor hadn’t bought Lois’s innocent act.

“One day,” Clark answered truthfully.

Mr. White raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Think you can handle her?” he asked.

“Honestly, no, sir, but I’d die for the chance,” Clark replied, figuring what a pleasant death it would be. Thank goodness he hadn’t found anything that could harm him.

Mr. White chuckled, and handed Clark back his portfolio. “Couldn’t have asked for a better recommendation than that. She’s tough, but if she’s right…” He grinned. “Okay, I’ll give you a trial run. Ask Lois about the particulars on the theatre piece. We’ll see how you do on that before we go about assigning you a desk.”

Clark smiled and held out his hand. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. White.”

“Scoot, before I change my mind,” the editor replied with a shake of his head.

Clark picked up his briefcase and dropped in his portfolio.

As he passed Mr. White, he heard him mumble, “It’ll be like Norcross and Judd again, I swear.”

Clark shut the door to the editor’s office and fixed his eyes on Lois, who was standing next to the conference room. She waved him over.

“Mr. White said you’d give me the particulars on the theatre piece he assigned you,” he said, following her inside.

Lois shut the door and backed him into the table, her body pressed against his and her finger pointed in his face. “It’s taken you long enough to arrive in Metropolis. Nine years, Farm Boy! Nine long years, I’ve waited for you! Give your eyeteeth to work at the Daily Planet. Ha! Do you know why I’m the reporter I am? Keeping track of you! That’s why. You jump countries faster than a flea infestation, and you’re more invisible than a stealth bomber. I had hoped you’d come to Metropolis upon graduation from Midwest, but, NO, you went and traveled the world, freelance! Do you know how hard it is to track a freelance reporter? I don’t want you to think that I’ve been waiting around for you. I have kissed other guys…”

She had?

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ve kissed other women.”

Clark shrugged sheepishly. He may have.

“But none of them lived up to that kiss you gave me. You not only made my toes curl, it was like you floated me up into the stars,” she said as a dreamy quality came to her voice.

He smiled. Yes, he remembered it well.

“Anyway, after waiting all those years for you to come to me, I started trying to chase you down. I got two Kerth awards because of you, Homespun, trying to find stories to investigate in the countries where you were. I almost caught you in the Congo, too. You couldn’t have stayed there two more lousy days?!” She slapped his arm with her hand. “Finally, I had to use my secret weapon.”

She remembered. Oh, boy, had she remembered. His brow furrowed. “Homespun?”

Lois blushed with a shrug. “Homespun Goodness.”

Oh, really? Clark smiled, liking that description. Wait. “Secret weapon?”

She grinned. “By the way, tell your mom I just finished all the jam she sent me for Christmas.”

“You contacted my mom?”

“First things first,” Lois said, her finger pointing at him again. “You still a virgin?”

The color drained from his face. “What?!” How did Firecracker know about that?

She pressed her lips together. “Blondie said you wanted to wait until marriage.”

Clark’s eyes widened as he gulped. He would kill Lana! Okay, he wouldn’t, but it was very tempting. Was that how Lois thought he was different from other guys? So, what exactly was she asking?

Lois lifted up his left hand and threaded her fingers with his.

Oh. He smiled. “The position’s still open if you want it.”

She leaned forward and set her lips on his, murmuring before her kiss, “How about we see if you can curl them twice?”

THE END

Disclaimer: This story is inspired by the characters created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series, developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. The characters do not belong to me; they belong to themselves (although Warner Bros, DC Comics, and the heirs to Siegel and Shuster might disagree). Many thanks to all the writers on the above-referenced show, especially Deborah Joy LeVine, from whose wonderful Pilot I borrow dialogue directly.

Walt Disney World Resort is owned and operated by The Walt Disney Company. All Disney characters, songs from any ride or film, any facts regarding or from Disney’s films (such as Dumbo’s feather), facets of the Walt Disney World Resort, and any of its rides, including but not limited to Splash Mountain, El Rio del Tiempo (the Mexican pavilions time tunnel of love), Pirates of the Caribbean, It’s a Small World, and Epcot Center’s Spaceship Earth, still remain with The Walt Disney Company. I have only borrowed the location (or a modified alt-world facsimile of it from the early 1980s) as the backdrop to my story. I have gathered most of my information about the Walt Disney World Resort in the early 1980’s from my memories, and from Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Disney_World), and owe them a debt of gratitude.

The Splash Mountain ride described in my story did not exist at any Disney park in the early 1980s. Because the Splash Mountain ride from Disneyland inspired this particular story, the single file boat was the one described in the story, and not the double-seater boat that is currently in use at Disney World’s Splash Mountain. Since the main characters both lived in the Eastern section of the USA, it made more sense for them to visit Disney World than Disneyland.

“Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah” music by Allie Wrubel, lyrics by Ray Gilbert from the Disney movie “Song of the South” sung by James Baskett.

“It’s a Small World” music and lyrics by Robert B. Sherman and Richard M. Sherman.

Author’s Note: This story was part of the 2012 Summer Ficathon Challenge by Mrs. Mosley. The story needed to: 1) Use the pre-assigned prompt (here = The Art of Fireworks). 2) Theme: Summer, and 3) Post by 9/1/2012.

Gratitude: I would like to thank my Beta Readers, Mrs. Luthor and IolantheAlias for their advice, cheering on, and experience knowledge in grammar. Many thanks to SQD for her excellent and hilarious G.E. work. You guys are the greatest!

The European Adventures of Lois Lane

By Mozartmaid < mozartmaid@gmail.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: December 2011

Summary: Lois thinks she’s headed on an investigation in the Congo — but when her plane is mysteriously rescued outside of Paris, she is suddenly on the trail of the story of her life.

***

I honestly love to fly.

At least, I did until now. The turbulence over the last hour has gotten progressively worse, and despite reassurances from our captain, it doesn’t feel like it will improve before we reach Paris. If the turbulence wasn’t bad enough, there has been a one-year-old sitting three seats in front of me who has been screaming almost since we left Metropolis. And no matter how many times the mother glances over her shoulder at me and the other passengers apologetically, I can’t seem to forgive the woman for subjecting her child to what is obviously torture — namely, flying.

Did I mention that I love to fly? Normally I do. Normally I love watching the world get smaller below me, and watching all of my problems disappear with the distance. I always book the window seat, and when we left Metropolis, I was treated to the most beautiful golden sunset. The clouds were fluffy as cotton and the rays of the sun seemed to paint them in colors that would rival a canvas by Monet. I felt as if I could just reach outside the plane, the clouds would be solid beneath me, and would carry me away from the insanity that is my life.

But somehow, six hours later, as we reach the edges of continental Europe, we are in the middle of a thunderstorm. Don’t they warn pilots about these things? Aren’t we in a modern enough world that harrowing storms are avoidable? But according to our intrepid captain, the storm only worsened as we crossed the Atlantic. It is almost as if France is punishing me personally for having been stupid enough to fall for one of its countrymen. The French, it seems, have it out for me.

Ever since I took high school French, that country and I haven’t gotten along. I always trip over the slippery verbs, and recently I managed to trip into a relationship that should have come with a warning label. His name is Claude de Bernac, which sounds all sexy and European, but that was as far as the name took him.

Since my high school journalism class, my life has been about uncovering the hidden truth — yet I didn’t see this one coming. I had on love-blinders, if you will, and I promise never to wear those misguided shades ever again. Claude was tall, dark, and handsome. He was smart and sophisticated, and he told me I was the most amazing woman he had ever met. I mean, what girl doesn’t want to hear this from six feet of handsome, right? Except, I should have listened with my computer turned off and my notebook closed. I should have seen the rat coming in his Giorgio Armani. The hunky Frenchman stole my story — but what’s worse is that I let it happen.

I mean, I didn’t hand over the files and agree that he could put his byline instead of mine on the article. But I may as well have. You see, I let him in and I fell in love — a fatal mistake in this business. I had been warned in college about the shark type journalists, who will do anything to one-up you on a story. I had had experience with that thanks to Linda King, who was once my best friend. You’d think I’d have learned… But no, I had to experience one cut worse than being betrayed by a friend. I had to be betrayed by a lover.

And ever since I saw my story printed under his name two months ago, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave Metropolis. Because things just snowballed from there. I found out he had slept with the “social” columnist Cat Grant, who gladly digs her claws into any man who happens to walk by. And then Claude got nominated for a Kerth Award for my story. Now, I protested and told my editor that he stole it, but I had no proof. Claude had really done a thorough job — stealing all of my files and copying them onto his computer, meanwhile erasing them from mine. He is the lowest of the low, the pond scummiest of them all — and yet, I couldn’t prove it. People laughed behind my back, saying I was just jealous or upset because I had learned that Claude didn’t really care about me. They have no idea how deep the betrayal goes — Claude de Bernac did irreparable harm to my already fragile trust in the opposite sex.

So I did what any sensible journalist in my position would do — I looked for an excuse to leave for a while, claiming I was hunting down the story of the century. If I have to rebuild my reputation, then I’m going to do it in style, with a story worthy of the Pulitzer, not just a Kerth. I am not planning on walking back in to the Daily Planet without a prize-winning story in my hands, even if I have to go to the edge of the earth to get it.

I am heading to Africa in a few days, to the Congo to follow up on some leads I scrounged up in Metropolis. There’s a gunrunning operation down there that I am convinced is funded by big money in Metropolis, but I have to go there to get the evidence to prove it… My evidence is sketchy at this point, and it will be dangerous to get my suspicions confirmed. But it is the only lead I have that can get me far enough away that I can avoid looking at Claude’s gorgeously smug eyes for a while. I just hope there’s something usable there to write a story good enough to restore Perry’s faith in me. And I simply refuse to go back to Metropolis empty handed.

***

The turbulence is getting worse. People who were trying to sleep start waking up and looking to the crew to explain what is happening. Most of the window shades are drawn, though a few people open theirs to take a peek at the weather causing the turbulence. Just as quickly, they pull the shades down again, afraid of the chaos outside, I assume. We are all asked to stay in our seats and even the flight attendants are looking just a little bit worried, despite reassurances from our captain. Suddenly, I’m rattled by a huge jolt of motion. I swish up my window cover to look out and see lightning has struck one of our wings, snapping the edge off it! I’m afraid we are going to crash in earnest. The cabin goes dark, except for the emergency runner lights on the floor, and some sunlight from a few of the shades that are half-open. We start losing altitude and the pressure in the cabin drops. Oxygen masks come down, and I’m horribly reminded of every action movie I’ve ever seen with a plane crash in it.

I sit back, taking a few deep breaths, and try not to indulge too heavily in the feeling that my life is flashing before my eyes. Yet I can’t help thinking of all the regrets I’ve had in my life. How I never let anyone in — except people who can hurt me, like Claude. How I pushed away my mother and avoided my father. How I get easily annoyed by my baby sister and her penchant for any man in jeans. How I didn’t push myself hard enough to go after the Pulitzer sooner —

The plane is dropping quickly out of the sky. Passengers are panicking around me, while stewardesses are practically shouting in imploring us to remain calm — yeah, right! The screaming baby needs no apologies for his behavior now, and I squeeze my eyes shut as tears run down my cheeks. I think selfishly how I am only twenty-five, but then I look at the baby in front of me and am reminded by how unjust life can be. You can try to do everything right, and you still might get the short end of the stick…

Suddenly, we are leveling out, even regaining a little altitude. People are puzzled as we were all certain we were done for. There is no accounting for how the captain is able to right the plane, not with a broken wing. I glance outside my window, trying to make sense of why we seem suddenly to be flying safely and are beginning a near normal descent into Charles de Gaulle airport.

I look outside, and then look again, baffled by what I see. The early morning sun is breaking through the clouds on my side, but I swear I see a hand on the broken wing. There seems to be a man outside the plane! How did he get there? What was he doing? I press the button above me for a stewardess, determined to help him. Maybe someone had it out for him and was trying to kill him? Maybe we got caught in the cross hairs of something bigger going on and that guy was the victim or the perpetrator — or something!

I feel my reporter’s instincts kick into overdrive. I glance again, trying to lean to get a better angle to see out the tiny window, but all I see is a hand and maybe some of his arm. The sunlight is bright on my side, and the glare off the remaining part of the wing makes it hard to see anything clearly. The flight attendants are still trying to calm people who are in shock. We are getting closer to landing, but I feel like it is imperative that someone corroborates this story! I look again and press the button. I can see someone’s still there, hanging onto the wing, but still no stewardess comes to me. I sigh with frustration, unbuckling my seatbelt and stand up. “Excuse me! Does anyone see that guy!” I ask people nearby, pointing outside my window, but people are too wrapped up in their own concern to take any notice of me.

A flight attendant waves at me to please sit down, though I refuse to do so. Just then, we hit the tarmac, and I’m bounced back into my seat, hitting my head on the light panel. I look again out the window, wondering what’s become of the man dangling off the plane, but he’s gone. Had he been killed when we landed? My stomach lurches in disgust, and I wave down the flight attendant.

At last — since we’ve stopped — she comes to my seat. “Yes?”

I glance out the window, now suddenly feeling a bit crazy. Had I really seen a man? I mean, it seemed like we were going to die and the mind can play tricks… I shake my head. “Nothing. Just — a little shaken up, is all.”

Amazingly we landed. The captain’s communication is restored and though he references and apologizes for the ‘rough landing,’ he acts like it was just another day at the office. I can’t stop staring out my window, wondering what I just saw. Surely it wasn’t a hallucination — the wing is staring at me, half-broken. Several passengers have noticed it, but no one else seems to have seen what I saw. They are simply too grateful to be alive as they hurry to get off this plane. As I descend the steps of the plane, I look around, searching for any evidence of a dead or injured man where we landed. I hear passengers around me swapping stories about how they think the pilot pulled off the landing, but I don’t hear any mention of the man I am certain I saw on the broken wing of the plane. I jot down a few notes about what I hear to include in the story I will write about this. But I can’t walk away without investigating the plane itself a bit further. So I pull out my press pass as I step out of line to inspect the wing. Security tries to stop me, but I insist that I am a reporter and they know this landing will be all over the front page tomorrow anyway.

“I want to speak to someone higher up. The public deserves to know about this incident!” I insist.

The two security guards confer and turn to call over a supervisor. This is my chance. I duck around them to get over to the wing, knowing I have only a few seconds to inspect it.

I don’t see any blood, or any other signs of struggle, other than the broken wing itself. It would have been impossible for anyone in the luggage compartment to get out to the wing, let alone hold on to it for any length of time, and I wonder again if I imagined it. I am about to walk away when I notice something. It could just be the bend of the metal, but on the smooth surface of the wing, just a few feet from the rupture, is an imprint — of a hand.

I pull out my camera and take a photo, quickly heading back to where I was talking to the guards. They apologize but insist that I can’t take a look at it until the investigative police arrive. Since I already have my evidence, I say I understand and head on my merry way, trying desperately to hide the grin on my face.

I start walking to the terminal, wondering again about what happened. But one thing is for certain. This is front-page news, and I’ll have a story to send to Perry within the hour.

After going through customs and getting my luggage, there are already reporters asking the people on board about their experience. I find myself smirking, knowing my first-hand account will be a far better story than what the reporters on the scene will write. I still listen, though, to those around me. No one saw what I saw, though a few mention the broken wing. I question my sanity a bit, but I have photographic proof that someone had held on to the plane… This picture could be my Pulitzer!

Normally my first instinct would be to call Perry. But I still have the puzzle about what I think I saw, and I hesitate. I am still a little shaken up over the whole thing, and I know news won’t wait, but surely it can wait until I get to my hotel and think this through? It is after all, only about three in the morning in Metropolis…

I get in a waiting taxi and am whisked away to my hotel, between the L’Avenue de l’Opéra and the train station St. Lazare, a neighborhood that feels a bit like Metropolis in its shopping choices. I pull out my camera and try to remember some French to ask about getting my film developed.

“Où… les photos?” I try.

The taxi driver smiles and says, “Ah, voulez-vous prendre des photos?”

Prendre I know means ‘take.’ Afraid I’ll be given the tourist trek around the city, which I don’t have time for, I shake my head. “Non — pour développer?” I say with a gesture pretending I’m looking through already taken photos. I must look ridiculous, but he seems to understand my meaning.

With a disappointed shrug, he says something about asking at the hotel. I sigh, and look out my window, suddenly noticing for the first time that I am really in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

We are riding along the river Seine. It’s still pretty early in the day, but the sunlight is beautiful on the golden horsemen on one of the bridges, calming some of my anxiety from my adventure in the skies. I look to my right, across the river, and see a huge domed building. I ask my driver what it is, and he mumbles something that sounds like ‘invalid’ and ‘Napoleon.’ I make a mental note to look it up in my guidebook later. We ride on, and I’m struck by the contrasts here in Paris with the world I know in Metropolis. My city is surrounded by water; here, it runs through the heart of the city. The bridges here are beautiful and elegant, while most bridges in Metropolis are merely practical. There are parks in the middle of the city, but they seem to embrace the city around it, rather than shut it out like Centennial Park.

I lean back in my seat, suddenly wishing I had planned to spend more than just two days in Paris…

At last we make it to my hotel. It’s off of the grand avenue, at the top of which is the impressive opera house. I like to pretend I’m cultured enough for opera, but honestly, the lure of it has always been a bit beyond me. The taxi driver points to a small shop near the hotel with a Kodak sign in it, and I assume he’s trying to tell me that I can develop my film there.

I say “Merci,” and hand off my luggage to the concierge. My first order of business is to get this film developed.

***

I pick up the film an hour later, and take my notes to a nearby café to finish my story. It’s almost six in the morning back home, and I know Perry will be at the Planet soon. I have all of the details of my story except for the strange anomaly I saw. I think I would have chalked it all up to exhaustion and adrenaline, except I have a photo that says otherwise. It’s sitting in its envelope in front of me, daring me to look at it and question my sanity. I take a breath and open the folder. It’s as clear as when I saw it a few hours ago — there is a definite imprint of a hand on the plane. But what’s even weirder is the imprint is deep in the wing — as if someone exerted pressure, and not just normal human-holding-on-for-dear-life kind of pressure.

I stare at the photo, and think back to those frantic moments on the plane. The picture is proof that I had seen someone, but what he was doing out there — I sip my coffee, a crazy idea forming in my mind. Had this man — actually saved our plane?

I laugh aloud — yet now that I’ve thought it, I can’t let the idea go. I know that we lost electrical power, and the pilot had most definitely lost control of the plane. We had been heading for a nosedive when I spotted the man outside on the wing. But that was when we started sailing a bit more smoothly. I shake my head, torn between disbelief and thinking that if I’m right, then I’m on to the biggest story of the century.

But now I have to find this guy. And get him to confess to what, Lane? Being able to fly and being strong enough to rescue a plane out of the sky? It was utterly ridiculous, and would be beyond extraordinary if it were true. I down the rest of my coffee and pay, gathering my things. I know I have to at least get the story of the near crash to Perry. As for the possibility of a superhero rescuing us — that will have to wait until I can get more proof.

Because then, I’ll have the story I’ve been waiting for. The story that will put Lois Lane back on top.

***

I realize time is ticking past and I need to call Perry so he can get a heads-up on my plane story. I quickly gather my things and head for the door. My notebook and the picture are wrapped snugly in my arms as dreams of a Pulitzer start dancing in my head. Part of me really wants to tell Perry the whole truth, but the other part — the part that’s an ace reporter — knows there is a greater story here and I need to find out the details first.

I head to the door, lost in my thoughts, when I bump into what feels like a solid wall. My papers and photo go flying and I snap off an angry retort at the man who has bumped into me. We lean down at the same time to gather my things, though I try to move faster, worried that he’ll spot my picture. He passes me my bag and offers a hand for me to stand up.

As I take his warm, solid hand, I look up into his face, and I’m momentarily made breathless by what I see. He’s broad-shouldered and handsome, with thick black hair that begs for fingers to be run through it. He’s wearing smart-looking glasses that set off his strong jaw. His warm brown eyes burrow into mine, and I find myself at a loss for words — a rare thing, trust me.

“Sorry — mademoiselle,” he says, switching between languages, which tells me immediately that he’s an American.

“No problem,” I say as I take back my things. I see him glance at my photo and then his eyes quickly meet mine. There’s a brief moment where I swear he looked worried at what he saw, but just as quickly it was gone.

He hands me my small Paris map book, which I haven’t even cracked open yet. “Are you a tourist, then? I mean, have you been here before?”

“I — I’m just passing through, actually. Only here for another day,” I say, my hand still tingling from contact with his.

“Oh,” he says, seemingly disappointed.

“You?” I ask. He’s in a suit, so I take a shot in the dark. “Are you here on business?”

“Sort of. I mean, yes. Yes, I am.” He fumbles adorably with his glasses as he clears his throat. He’s obviously flustered, and I’m terribly charmed by his bumbling. I hear vague warning bells in my head that I shouldn’t give him the time of day, but my jump-first-ask-questions-later side pushes me forward, knowing I’ll only be here another day, and it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in a little flirtation, which could help repair my wounded ego a bit.

“Look, I’m sorry to bump into you like that. Could I buy you a coffee?” he asks. Then, maybe feeling the need to clarify he goes on. “I mean, we’re both Americans — it’s your first time in Paris… And I am sorry to run into you — ”

I smile at his nervous ramblings, knowing my own penchant to babble. “Um, sure. Why not?”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I need to phone Perry. I can’t let myself get distracted by a handsome face. I look around for a phone booth and then glance apologetically at my sudden companion.

“Why don’t you get a table? I have to call my office.”

He nods, and I make my way to a phone booth in the cafe. The phone immediately starts speaking French to me, and I have no idea how to dial internationally. There’s a code for the States, so I try that, throwing in a few francs, hoping I’ll get a connection. After a few frustrated tries, I finally make it through to the Planet.

“I need to speak to Perry White. It’s Lois Lane.”

I glance through the glass window at my sudden coffee date, when I notice I stupidly left my folder containing the picture and my notes with him. He hasn’t touched them, thank goodness but I need to hurry up and talk to Perry before Mr. Handsome gets curious about my work.

At last, Perry answers.

“Perry! Hi, it’s Lois! Look, just wanted to let you know I landed in Paris. But there was a freak accident with our plane. We got caught in a thunderstorm and a bolt of lightning cut through the wing. I thought we were goners but — we made it.”

I hesitate. I really want to tell him about what I saw… But something tells me to keep it to myself a little while longer. I have to learn more first. Then, when I have all the details, I’ll be able to give Perry the scoop of the century.

“That must have been one heck of a pilot,” says Perry speculatively.

“Yeah,” I say, the truth on the tip of my tongue. I shake myself out of it, watching as the cutie in the glasses waits patiently for me to get off the phone. “Anyway, I’ll have the story written up and faxed to you within a few hours. You should have it in time for the afternoon edition.”

Perry gives me a little praise, and I hang up the phone reluctantly. I have the picture to prove what I saw, but for some reason I can’t explain, I want to hold back what I know from my editor. Part of me is worried, I know, that he just won’t believe me. And since I have no way to explain further about who might have rescued the plane — it’s just as well that I don’t say anything yet. I need solid facts or I’ll never be able to repair my reputation.

I make my way back to the table, and immediately slip the envelope with the photo and my notes safely back into my bag, away from prying eyes.

“Everything okay?” my new friend asks innocently.

“Yeah… “ I say. When he offers nothing in return, I prod, “So, what’s your name?”

“Clark Kent,” he says with a disarming smile.

“Lois Lane,” I say looking him in the eyes, daring him to recognize who I am.

“Of the Daily Planet,” he supplies to my surprise, and I feel flattered. “I’ve read your work. You’re very good.”

I take in the stroke on my wounded ego. “Thanks. I was good…” I say vaguely, thinking of my stupid mistakes with Claude.

“And now — you’re not?” he asks, apparently not buying my self-deprecation.

“Well, I am still good, I guess,” I say, the photo I failed to mention to my editor making me self-doubtful. “I mean — look, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” I deflect.

He relents easily, suddenly looking up as the waitress approaches our little table. He looks at me, but I shrug helplessly. “I know only a little high school French.”

“What would you like?” he asks me, and I tell him I’d like a café latte.

He orders for both of us in what I can only assume is flawless French. I’m impressed, yet unfortunately also reminded of Claude. I look down at my napkin, questioning my sanity at having a coffee with this handsome stranger. The last thing I need right now is to get distracted by a man. I am tempted to just get up and bolt — but it’s just a coffee. A coffee with a handsome man won’t kill me.

Clark notices my discomfiture I think, as he looks at me apologetically again. “Is everything all right, Miss Lane?”

I smile despite myself. ’Miss Lane’? Really? Where was this guy from? ”Call me Lois,” I say.

Our coffees arrive. While I search the sugar container for something resembling a fake sweetener that I’m familiar with, I notice Mr. Hard Body throws in three teaspoons of real sugar.

“Quite a sweet tooth there, Clark,” I say good-humoredly.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I like to live a little,” he says with that smile that should come with a warning label.

I figure it’s time to get down to brass tacks. Before I find myself swept up in those lovely chocolate brown eyes — and who doesn’t love chocolate? — I need to find out exactly who I’m dealing with.

“So, you’re here on business? What kind of business do you do?” I ask, trying not to sound too much like an abrasive reporter, but failing.

“Well, um, I’m a reporter too, actually,” he says somewhat hesitantly, and I suddenly feel my hackles rise. Not a reporter — anything but that. Could he know something about my story? Is that why he asked me for a coffee? I resist the urge to look in my bag and confirm that I still have all of my notes and the photo. I feel the blood drain from my face, seeing Claude’s betrayal happen all over again.

“So — come across any good stories, then?” I ask pointedly, hoping to catch him if he is interested in what I know. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice —

“No, not really. I’m only here in Paris, passing through, really. I am a freelancer and have been traveling across Europe.”

I almost breathe a sigh of relief. A travel writer. That’s pretty harmless.

“Oh, been anywhere interesting?” I ask, though part of me just wants to leave. I really don’t want to deal with another reporter — even if he just writes travel stories. I decide I will only give him until I finish my coffee. He may have all the time in the world freelancing, but I have a deadline.

“I just got back from Morocco,” Clark says. “The spice markets there are the best in the world — ”

He starts telling me about his travels, which sound interesting, but I honestly can’t take the time to listen to him. The photo is burning a hole in my bag and I only have two hours before I have to get my article submitted. Besides, the last thing I need in my life is a handsome distraction — especially one with a reporter’s instinct.

“I’m sorry, Clark, really I am,” I say, cutting into his detailed description of some fruit seller in the Moroccan market. “But I have a deadline. I really have to go,” I stand abruptly and gather my things to leave.

He nods understandingly, and I try not to notice his look of disappointment. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at me. “Could I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks.

I’m taken aback by this new offer and hesitate, seeing the earnestness on his face. “I — I don’t think that’s a good idea, Clark,” I say, trying to let him down gently.

“I’m just saying — you don’t know anyone in Paris. I know this city like the back of my hand. What do you have to lose? Let me buy you dinner.”

His offer sounds tempting. And it would be preferable to me ordering in and watching television in French that I won’t understand…

I waver, “All right. Meet me — here, at eight?” I suggest, not trusting him enough to tell him where I’m staying.

He smiles. “No problem. I’ll see you later… Lois.”

He stands up and takes my coat off the hook, holding it for me like a gentleman. His manners make me smile inwardly.

“See you at eight. Mr. Clark Kent,” I say, feeling his eyes on me as I head out of the café.

***

I get back to my smallish hotel room and unpack my portable word processor. I try not to think about my little meeting with Clark Kent, and begin working instead on restoring my reputation with the story about the almost plane crash. I lay out my notes, setting aside the envelope with the photograph. I need to look at it again — is there any way I could include what I saw in the article and still retain my credibility? It’s so frustrating, because it could be a huge story — and yet, if I don’t have much to back it up, I could say good-bye to my reputation forever.

I sit with the photo in my lap a moment. I remember from journalism school that you have to sometimes resist the temptation to throw in a tantalizing tidbit when you don’t have all of the facts. But still — if I could use this photo to prove someone had literally rescued our plane out of the sky —

I open the envelope and my stomach lurches to discover that it’s empty! I search frantically through my bag and my notes, but it’s absolutely gone! The negatives are gone as well, which tells me that the photo wasn’t just lost, it was stolen!

Mr. Hard Body. Clark Kent must have sniffed out my story and is trying to scoop me! I should have known! How could I be so foolish after having been duped so recently by Claude? Foolish, Lane! I’m so angry with myself for having relented even for a moment. I’m not twenty-four hours out of Metropolis and already letting another reporter get the best of me!

And what does he expect at dinner tonight? Is he going to use my photo as blackmail to get the rest of the story? I simply can’t believe his gall — or my own gullibility!

I pace in my tiny hotel room. I need to calm down. I still have the basic story to turn in to Perry. I will deal with Mr. Kent later.

Sometimes I write my best work when I’m angry. I hope now is one of those times. Clark has no idea how thin is the thread on which my career hangs — but what would he want with a scoop like mine if he’s a travel writer? I sigh painfully as I realize how fully I was duped. Of course he’s not really a travel writer — that was just a ruse to get my trust. Who does he work for, I wonder?

I bang furiously on my keyboard, thinking how I will confront him tonight at dinner. He owes me at least that much for stealing my photo!

At last, I finish the story — without any reference to the mysterious hand imprint on the wing. It’s just as well. I had no proof besides the photo, and unless the mystery person steps forward, I have no one to corroborate my story. Lane, you should still be satisfied, I tell myself as I reread what I’ve typed. It’s still a strong story.

After all, it’s not every day that you fly on a plane that nearly crashes and live to tell about it.

***

After I send my story to Perry, I begin to get ready for dinner with the backstabbing Mr. Kent. I decide to look as devastatingly beautiful as I can pull off, so he can see what he might have had the slightest chance with if he had played his cards right. Part of me wants to confront him the moment I see him, shake those handsomely broad shoulders of his, and berate him for trying to steal my story. But even I know that you can catch more flies with honey. I need to find out exactly what he knows and why he wanted my photo in the first place.

Clark is irritatingly punctual, not even giving me the chance to get angry with him for standing me up. He also looks quite delectable in his evening suit. This would be a very romantic date except for the fact that I haven’t known him a full day and he has already betrayed me!

“You look lovely, Miss Lane,” he says, and I roll my eyes, wondering how many gullible women he has lured into his arms with that line. I will not be taken in by his charming manners!

“So where are we going?” I ask coolly, avoiding taking his proffered arm.

“A little Japanese restaurant near here. Is that all right?”

I nod and we begin to walk. Inwardly I am fuming. I want so much to turn to him and berate him about the photo — but a girl’s got to eat. And I certainly can’t afford Paris dinner prices on the little I have saved up — and, my leeway on the Daily Planet expense account doesn’t go as far as covering fancy dinners.

I hear my heels click angrily on the pavement as we walk side by side. We head off the main Avenue de l’Opéra and up a quiet side street.

“So, why me?” I decide to start him off easy, so by the time we are eating dinner I’ll be able to get him to tell me exactly what he’s up to.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“Why did you want to take me to dinner?” I clarify, secretly thinking he probably wanted to probe into my story and ask about my mysteriously missing photo!

“Well, I told you,” he says honestly, seemingly surprised by my question. “Since you don’t know Paris all that well, the least I could do is show you around.”

He says it innocently enough, but I know there is more to the story.

“So what brought you to Paris, then? A travel story?” I say a little sarcastically, imagining him gloating over having swiped my photo. Travel journalist, my Aunt Fannie!

“Well, actually, I’m on my way to Rome. But I like to stop in Paris when I can. And the Japanese restaurants here around Opéra have been getting quite a reputation. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try one of them. Ah, here we are.”

We sit down, and we’re each handed a huge menu. It’s only in French and Japanese, neither of which I can speak. I glance helplessly over at Clark. “Will you order for me?” I ask, hating how dependent I sound.

“Sure. What do you like?”

I give him my rundown of the kinds of sushi I like and the things I avoid, like raw eel. I had a bad experience with it once — and no matter how good the restaurant, I plan to avoid it at all costs for the rest of my life.

Just before we are set to order, Clark excuses himself to use the restroom. I’m left to sit and point at the items Clark had chosen, utterly humiliated by my inability to speak any French to the waiter except “Merci” and “Oui.”

Clark seems to be taking forever in the bathroom, but at last, he emerges. “Get lost on the way to the boy’s room?” I tease, as he sits back down at our table.

He brushes my comment off and settles into his seat. I stare at him a moment, thinking. I realize I’m trying desperately to size him up, but he doesn’t register on any of my usual male categories. Yes, I’m sure he’s betrayed me — but he also seems like a sweet, upstanding guy. The man is confident, yet he doesn’t seem egotistical. He seems intelligent and honest — except that he isn’t honest, which I plan to prove by the end of dinner.

He clears his throat, and I realize I’ve been staring. “Sorry,” I apologize. “Just thinking.”

“What about?” he asks.

“Well, you,” I answer honestly. “Where are you from?” It’s an innocent enough question, yet I see him blanch for just a second. I’m suddenly intrigued. Maybe he is hiding something under that gentlemanly exterior after all.

“Well, I’m from Smallville… It’s in the Midwest, Kansas.”

“Smallville?” I laugh. “Surely you’re kidding. That is a joke of a name!”

“Honest truth. If I had a map handy, I’d show you. It’s not far from Wichita.”

Our sushi dinner arrives, and I try to make more small talk as I struggle with my chopsticks. Mr. Smallville manages them with no problem, I’m shocked to see.

“So how did a small town farm boy end up traveling the world?” I ask, genuinely curious about how a guy from a small town could end up as a reporter — and possibly one intent on scooping me.

“Well, I always loved to write. And in college, I found myself as a journalism major. And I figured, if I’m going to write about the world, I need to see it first. Actually, what I hope to do is a land a position at the Daily Planet someday.”

I try not to glare at him. So that’s what this is about? Was he trying to scoop me so he could get my job at the Planet?!

That was the last straw. “So, is that why you stole my photo?” I suddenly demand, unable to keep up the polite exterior any longer.

He looks up at me, a little offended. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the photo that was in my bag when I went into the café but had mysteriously disappeared by the time I got back to my hotel room!” I try not to draw the attention of people sitting nearby, but I can’t help that my voice goes up an octave or two.

“If you thought I stole a photo from you, why did you agree to come to dinner with me, then?” he asks pointedly.

“Because I wanted to face you. So you admit it? You stole it, hoping to scoop my story!” I say, brandishing my chopsticks at him like an accusatory finger.

“What? No, I did no such thing! Will you please calm down? You’re drawing attention to us.”

Noticing he’s right, I sit back in my chair, my chopsticks safely resuming their duty as utensils and not weapons of war. “Now, tell me about this photo. Maybe I can help you find it.”

I scoff. “Yeah, right. I know you have it, Mr. Kent — and you just want to have the story that goes along with it! I know all about your type!” I say, realizing he is just as deviant as I had suspected.

“Look, I just want to help you. What was the photo of?” he asks innocently.

I cross my arms, looking across the table at his blameless chocolate brown eyes. What if he is telling the truth? Have I been betrayed so many times that I can’t spot an honest man anymore? But — how else would the photo disappear? Had I really lost it? Have I lost my touch so badly that I have resorted to accusing an innocent man?

I hesitate a moment, and then lean slightly towards him. “Are you really just a travel writer?” I ask, narrowing my gaze at him.

“What does that have to do with — ” he begins, but I hold up my hand.

“Just — answer the question,” I demand, my chopsticks in the air, dangerously close to becoming a weapon again.

He pulls out his wallet and shows me a press pass that reads: Clark Kent, Travel Writer, Borneo Gazette.

I raise my eyebrows at that. “Borneo, huh? Long way from Kansas.”

He smiles a little as he replaces his wallet in his pocket. “It’s just a one-year contract. Like I said — it’s given me a way to write about and see the world. So — you can trust me, I promise. I’m not after your story, Miss Lane.”

Oh, he looks so innocent… The wounded reporter in me wants to hold all the details close to my chest and not tell a soul till I know more. But the woman, and the girl who is desperate for a friend in the world wants to trust him.

I debate a moment longer, but realize the story is already sent to Perry, and the photo is lost. If anyone does find it, it isn’t likely to be anyone who can do anything about it…

I sigh, “I better not regret this.”

He smiles warmly at me. “I just want to help.”

“Well, my flight over was pretty uneventful — except for the screaming baby — ”

“Lois, can you hold that thought?” he asks suddenly. He sets his napkin down, looking a little bit worried.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Uh — I just remembered I was supposed to meet this friend of mine… But he doesn’t carry a pager. He’s in the area though. I’ll be right back!” He says all of this as he stands up to leave, leaving me speechless.

How could he just up and leave like that? — especially after he finagled me into telling him about the photo in the first place! Weird guy!

Well, he won’t get a second chance to hear my story, that’s for sure!

I look around the restaurant, suddenly feeling very alone. Oh God, what if Clark doesn’t come back? What if he was just looking for an excuse to leave me with what will be a bill that I absolutely cannot afford? I feel my palms start to sweat with panic. This can’t be good. I was such a fool to come here with him anyway — and besides, I still don’t know if he was telling the truth about the photo —

I start to think of escape plans. I could just up and leave — it’s been done before. It’s not normally my MO, but I could do it. I’ve gotten out of tighter jams before, after all…

The waiter comes by several times and I debate whether I should just ask for the check and leave. But part of me hopes Clark hasn’t abandoned me. I kind of liked him — even if he is a reporter.

The longer it takes for him to return, the more my panic grows. I can’t even eat the rest of my meal. I feel totally abandoned and foolish.

Clark suddenly walks back in and I glance at my watch. He had only been gone twenty minutes, but it had been enough to work me up into a frenzy.

He sits back down at the table and looks over at me with concern. “Everything all right?” he asks.

I feel even more stupid. I had imagined all sorts of crazy scenarios in his absence, and they all sounded ridiculous now that he had come back.

“Sorry about leaving you like that,” he says kindly. “Now, where were we?”

I shake my head. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Clark. Can we just enjoy the rest of dinner?”

His eyes meet mine across the table and I suddenly feel terribly awkward. I had completely expected him to leave me in the lurch. It was so strange for him to leave like that, and yet come back.

I think he notices the bewilderment on my face because he looks at me with that boyish smile of his and asks with a half-laugh, “What is it?”

I feel myself blush. I was ready to paint him as sneaky as the rest, but now I am not so sure. I usually have a good instinct for people, but Clark Kent is a puzzle. He seems genuinely kind, and yet I get the distinct feeling that he is hiding something.

I move my sushi around on my plate a bit, thinking. I look up at him, wondering if he will come back to the issue of my photo. I am reluctant to bring it up again, not wanting to sound petty. I feel like if I accuse him again, I will somehow be in the wrong, though I don’t know why.

“Would you like dessert?” he asks.

I look at him sharply. “At a sushi restaurant?” I whisper, a little disgusted at the thought.

He laughs, “No, I know the best place to get ice cream, over on the Ile-St-Louis. It’s called Berthillon, and it’s world famous.”

“World famous ice cream? Now you’re talking!” I say with a grin. Excellent ice cream can make up for a lot, in my book.

Clark motions for the check and pays. I’m terribly tempted to try and see the amount, curious how much the lovely meal cost him — a reporter like myself, but he is circumspect with the check. He is a gentleman as we leave the restaurant, helping me into my coat and holding the door. I swear, they don’t make men like this guy anymore. Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow.

We start walking down towards the bridges, taking the side streets, which are quiet this time of the evening.

“Lois, I’m sorry I left earlier… But, I still want to help you — if you want,” he hastily adds.

I sigh inwardly. I had hoped he had forgotten. But he wouldn’t be a reporter if he didn’t try to follow up on a lead… And, I still need to find the photograph.

I hesitate.

“Lois, you can trust me,” he says, stopping in the covered passage that leads to the Louvre, just off Rue de Rivoli.

I almost want to stomp my foot in anger. I hate it when men say that! Because it always means just the opposite!

“Please don’t patronize me, Clark,” I say. “Look, I think you’re a nice guy and you mean well, but you missed your chance! I don’t share stories — it’s gotten me into too much trouble in the past. Now, I want to believe that you didn’t take my photo, but I hardly know you.”

He seems to chew on that a moment. “You’re right, I’m sorry… Look, let’s just walk and enjoy the rest of the evening. I promise I won’t ask about it again.”

***

Walking back to my hotel, I’m surprised by how much I enjoyed the evening I had had with Clark Kent. After dinner, we had walked to the Seine and admired the golden glow of lights on the water. He took me to that little ice cream place he mentioned — and Rocky Road has nothing on the flavors there! I will have to go by there again tomorrow for another scoop…

We talked of mundane things, and Clark’s travels — He managed to make me forget for about an hour that I was a reporter on a mission. Something no one has been able to do — ever.

I hate that I went to dinner with him, because there is no possibility of a future — not even a short-lived dating future. He’s leaving for Rome tomorrow afternoon, and I am leaving for the Congo tomorrow night. I’ll never see him again.

I sigh in frustration as I enter my hotel room. I know it’s just as well. As wonderful as it was to be with Clark tonight, I still have a mystery to solve. I need to find that photo — and the story behind it. Clark was a nice distraction, but first thing in the morning, Lois Lane the reporter has to get back to work.

I change out of my dress and slip into my pajamas. I turn on the TV, knowing I’ll understand very little of it… I almost hope there are some ‘Ivory Tower’ reruns on. Even if they are dubbed in French, I’ve watched them so many times I would know what’s going on.

When I start flipping through the channels, I stop on the news channel. They’re showing a group of people who had been evidently trapped in a Métro car earlier this evening. It had apparently been ablaze and then the fire had mysteriously extinguished. Eyewitnesses said an extremely cold breeze was felt as the fire went out — like a ghost passing through the car. Well, at least from what I could understand — ‘phantôme’ means ghost, right? Like Phantom of the Opera?

Then the camera pans to the Métro car, where a door had been opened from the outside, though no one saw who opened the door. I stand up beside my bed, inching closer to the TV screen. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like a hand pushed the door forcibly open — bending the frame of the door —

I make myself sit down on the bed. No one has noticed the detail, which is so apparent to me. Someone opened that door — and I think it’s the same someone that saved my plane.

I obsessively go through my bag one more time, just in case I really had misplaced the photo. But of course it’s not there.

I recline back on the bed, thinking. What is going on here? There seems to be someone out there, saving people. I wonder if it’s just in Paris… and why hasn’t the press picked up on it yet? I feel my blood pumping with excitement — and my stomach is in knots. I know this is the story of the century — and I somehow let the evidence for it slip through my fingers, and yet fate has presented me with the opportunity to recapture my evidence — if only I could get down to that Métro car and get a picture.

Excitement pouring through me, I toss off my nightgown and pull on sweat pants and a hoodie. It’s after midnight, so I figure there’s no need for me to work at looking elegant, even if I am in Paris. I’m just a reporter, and this story has my name written all over it.

***

I head to the station that had the problem, and I suddenly wish I had donned something more flattering than my sweats. I forget that the lights are bright in the Métro, and even after midnight, Parisians look fashionable. But I brush it aside. I’m not here to be seen. In fact, I’m hoping I can get by any remaining security that might be at the station to snag a photo.

I have to change two trains, but I finally arrive at my stop, Arts et Métiers, one stop away from my destination, Réaumur Sebastapol. I wait until the passengers all clear the platform so no one will see me. The Métros have all been rerouted around where the accident was. I take a peek down the dark Métro tunnel, feeling a breeze coming from the abyss of darkness. At least I know no trains will be whizzing by as I make my way underground to the stopped Métro car. I take one last look around me, to make sure I’m not seen before walking the narrow path against the wall of the Métro tunnel.

The way is slippery, and I’m pretty sure I hear some rats squeaking nearby. But I can see the light on the other side, at the next stop, slightly blocked by the damaged Métro car. As I near the station, a rancid smell hits my nose, and I wonder if the station would be better named Réamur Cess-pool! I’ve smelled some funky Métros in Metropolis, but none have come close to this particular noxious smell. At last, I make it to the station. No one seems to be around, which surprises me, as I expected to at least have to deal with a police officer or two. But just one work light remains on in the middle of the station.

Before I step back onto the platform, my eye catches a movement. Or more like a swift wind in the air. Then, standing about twenty feet away from me, I see none other than my date from earlier, Clark Kent! He had appeared — seemingly as if out of thin air! I hang back in the shadows, watching him closely, trying not to breathe, lest I catch his attention.

Suddenly, I see him take the door of the Métro, and flatten it out with his bare hands! I realize in that instant, that this has to be my mysterious plane rescuer — and now, he’s covering his tracks! I stare at him, in curiosity and maybe even a little fear. Who is this guy, and what is he capable of? But even though I’m nervous, seeing him bend steel to his will, I know that he isn’t dangerous.

I am also now certain that he did steal my photo — he obviously doesn’t want people knowing what he’s doing. But it’s so strange — why would he help strangers, only to disappear all the evidence of it? I slowly back into the shadows, not wanting him to see me. I realize how major a story I have on my hands — a man who can bend steel and fly?! This would put me on top for sure. But I have to tread carefully. I need to learn more about him first. Why is he here? Why does he hide?

As I make my way slowly back through the darkness to the other Métro station, I also realize that I will never make it to the Congo.

Because now I have a story to follow up on — in Rome.

***

It was not a problem to change my ticket, but it will be harder explaining it to Perry. I can tell him I’m on a lead, but I don’t know when I’ll have enough information to give him the full story. I don’t want to blow this. I kind of liked Clark. I don’t want to hurt him, but he has certainly gotten this reporter’s attention!

I made sure my ticket was for a little later in the day than Clark’s. I don’t want him to know I’m following him — okay, stalking him. But I am. My plan is to observe him for the next few days… I know I really want to interview him, but I have a feeling he would deny any claims I have. He’s too mild-mannered to admit to openly saving the day. I start wondering if maybe I can help him. I could do an exposé on him to give him some confidence — and boost my career in the process.

But I need details, and the only way to get them is to watch him.

As I board the plane to Rome, I suddenly wonder if I was overly cautious in booking a later flight. Did Clark actually just fly to Rome, under his own power? I can’t help imagining being in those strong arms of his, flying over the Mediterranean… I stop myself. I can’t believe I’m even thinking about a man who can fly!

I look up at the flight board for my gate. I notice the gate for Casablanca, which would have been the first leg of my journey towards the Congo. Am I being ridiculous? Maybe I imagined more than I actually saw… and now I’m giving up a big story in the hopes of pursuing an even better story. I take a deep breath, accepting my decision — something tells me that Clark Kent is worth the effort.

Despite my adventurous flight over the Atlantic, I have no trepidation about getting back on a plane. I’ve traveled quite a lot in the States, when I was the cub reporter willing to hunt down any story. It got me some respect in the news business, but I haven’t won any awards yet that would make my name well-known by all.

I have knots in my stomach as we fly towards Rome, though it has nothing to do with the flight itself. I want to learn more about Clark Kent, and I do want his story, but I know I have to ask myself how far am I willing to go to chase it down. What if he really wants to be left alone? He is a nice guy — yet, with his abilities, I know he could be so much more. Maybe, he just needs a little push. And I could be the one to give it to him.

When we land in Rome, I head to the hotel I booked from Paris. It’s a little more rustic than the Paris one, but it suits me. The colors are more muted, stronger, earthier. I have never been this close to the Mediterranean before, but I have to say, it’s a nice change from Metropolis. My parents never traveled to Europe when I was a kid, and I only spent one semester abroad in Ireland with an exchange program. This is my first real taste of continental Europe — and so far, it hasn’t been disappointing.

After I unpack, I head out into the city, to strategize how I will investigate Clark Kent — and maybe even get him to admit his secrets. How did he get his powers? And would he ever consider giving Lois Lane an exclusive interview?

As I sit outside at a café, it occurs to me that hunting down Clark Kent is not going to be easy. It was a chance meeting in Paris — and unless he has to rescue me — Wait. That’s it! I almost spill coffee as I sit up straighter in my chair. I have to contrive an incident where I am in just enough danger that Clark will have to step out of the shadows and rescue me! Then, confronted with seeing me again and the fact that I know his secret, he will have to give me the exclusive!

I start formulating a plan in my head… maybe I could wander into a dangerous neighborhood late at night… or hire some goons to pretend to rob me. That would be safer and guarantee that I would need a rescue. I pay for my coffee and start wandering the cobbled streets of Rome, ruminating on my idea. I have to get his attention without him suspecting that I am on to him. And if he rescues me — would he stop long enough for me to see his face and call him out on his superhero feat?

As I ponder this, I step into the street, just as a speeding Miata is heading my way. I swear it seems as if time stops for a second, as I see my whole life flash before my eyes. But then, I feel sort of a rush of wind, and am suddenly standing back on the sidewalk, the Miata honking furiously that it had nearly missed me. It was him. I know it was — yet he is already gone! I’m tempted to call out his name, but I don’t want him to know I’ve made the connection yet. Though I realize, he may already know that I am suspicious of him since I was supposed to be on a plane to Africa this afternoon.

I realize too that a set-up isn’t likely to help me catch him in action. He just proved to me that he moves faster than a speeding bullet, and he won’t sit still long enough for anyone to notice him.

This is going to be tougher than I thought.

***

I wander the city for the rest of the afternoon, half taking in the sights, but really thinking about my superhero dilemma. Part of me regrets trying to chase him at all — he obviously doesn’t want recognition. Would I have been better off salvaging my reputation by going after the story in the Congo? I could still go — but I am also intrigued by the challenge Clark Kent has presented to me.

I wonder how he got his powers… Was it a freak accident in a lab? Was he a soldier suped up by the government that went rogue, with his own agenda? I laugh at that thought. Somehow Clark Kent didn’t seem like the soldier type — he is more… boy scout material, I think.

He knows I’m here in the city. I wonder if he will seek me out at all, if he knows I’m on his trail. I don’t plan on telling Perry anything until I can speak to Clark Kent in person again. I hope he will open up to me… I mean, to be able to fly? Again I wonder what else can he do — and more importantly — how.

I head back to my hotel, my head full of theories about Clark Kent. I decide to toy with the idea of writing a story, just to see how it would read. Could I deliver his story and not use his name, thereby solidifying my place in journalistic history yet still keeping his secret? I know Perry will be able to read between the lines, though. He’ll know I know, and he may demand that I reveal the identity of this amazing man — er, super man?

I definitely need to write out the story — just to see it all in print and clarify things in my own mind. How much do I really know? How believable would the story be?

I sit at my desk and open my word processor. I start writing a follow-up piece about the near plane crash, and being rescued by a man who can fly… Then I write about the Métro car incident… I realize halfway through that it’s obvious I’ve seen who the mystery rescuer is. I can’t write the story without giving him an identity.

I put in a short paragraph about him being an international journalist, which is vague enough. I can’t bring myself to write his full name, so I just substitute C.K. Can I make this article work with so little detail about his identity? People are also going to want to know how he got his powers — and I haven’t a clue!

I hear a knock at my door, remembering I had ordered some laundry to be dry-cleaned earlier. What quick service!

I open it, still half-distracted by my article. I just don’t know how I can write it without revealing more of the identity of —

I’m looking at the floor, but my eyes slowly wander upwards when I see the leather dress shoes… and grey dress pants… and a light blue dress shirt — with an oddly loud blue and gold tie — and then, him. The guy that has me distracted from my original mission and has me questioning my own sanity.

“It’s you,” I say breathlessly. I stare at him a moment. He shifts his glasses up his nose in an adorable gesture and clears his throat.

“May I come in? I’d rather not have this conversation in the hallway,” he says, and I gesture for him to enter. I secure the door, and look over at my word processor. It’s facing away from him, but all it would take is a little walk around the room and he’d know I was writing a story about him — or thinking about writing a story about him. But if I rush over and slam it down, he’ll know something’s up. So instead, I edge casually over to the desk, in the hopes of distracting him from it entirely. He looks pensive, and I feel terribly embarrassed. I think about the story I was writing about him, and though it portrays him in the best light possible, there is still a part of me that was thinking of sending it to Perry without a word to Clark about it. After all, he is halfway around the world — maybe no one would notice it here in Europe…

“Lois, I thought you were going to Africa,” he says at last.

“Um, well, I was. I just — decided to take a detour,” I say, realizing that though I know who he is, he doesn’t necessarily know that I know… He could think… oh God, that I followed him here because — I was attracted to him!

I feel my cheeks flush scarlet. I can’t decide what is worse. The thought that he would kill me if he knew I was chasing his secret or the fact that he thinks I am so lovesick over him after our little dinner that I gave up a story to chase him down in Rome! I feel nauseous. This is worse than embarrassing. This is humiliating.

“Lois, I — I don’t know what to say. I’m surprised to see you here — ”

“How did you know I was here?” I challenge, daring him to admit the truth.

“Actually, I — spotted you at the airport. But I couldn’t catch up to you. I asked around and found out you were staying here.”

I eye him skeptically. I just bet he did exactly that — except I know I booked a later flight than his, so he couldn’t possibly still have been at the airport. And — he saved me from a Miata this afternoon. But I can’t say that yet — because, actually, this gives me the perfect in with him. Why not pretend to be enamored of him? I can learn all of his secrets and then — we can see about that article being written.

I manage to reach behind me and close the word processor. I then look over at Clark and start walking towards him with purpose. I grab his hideously loud tie and pull him close to me. Even though I’m laying it on thick a bit, I do feel a rush in my veins. I am attracted to this man — or super man, or whatever he is.

“Lois?” he asks in puzzlement, his voice cracking just a bit.

“I — I guess I’m just sorry that we only got that one dinner… and we didn’t even share a good-night kiss.”

I can’t believe my own boldness. But it’s working. He’s not asking me about my word processor or the photo — he believes that I followed him here because I wanted to carry our tryst a bit further.

“What about — Africa?” he chokes out, partly because I’m holding his tie hostage.

“Africa will still be there,” I say, leaning closer into him. I look into his chocolate brown eyes — he is so handsome. And maybe playing him a bit will be good for me. I will do my best not to break his heart — but it couldn’t hurt to repair my own ego, could it?

We stand there, practically nose to nose, and I wait. Why won’t he kiss me? I can tell he’s attracted to me as well… Come on, Kent. We’re both adults, I urge with my eyes.

“Clark? What are you waiting for?” I whisper.

He leans in, his breath on my cheek, smelling slightly of peppermint and fresh air. I realize he has been flying recently as I put my hand on his shoulder; the fabric is cool to the touch.

“I — ” he hesitates, but begins to lean in.

Our lips are about to meet, when I hear a buzzing noise coming from my table. It’s my beeper. I pull abruptly away, suddenly remembering that Clark Kent is just a story, and I have to tell Perry something about why I skipped Africa to come to Rome.

The spell is broken. “It’s work,” I say, looking around helplessly. “I have to tell Perry White, my editor, why I’m here,” I reach for my pager, stepping away from him. I realize I was more affected by his nearness than I had any right to be, trying to focus as I reach for my pager.

Thank goodness we didn’t actually kiss!

He appears to be searching for a reason for me to give Perry why I’m here, and I bless him for it. Why does he have to be such a good guy — and be the story of the century?

“I heard there was a jewelry heist in one of the palazzos… It’s not normally my thing, but you could certainly use that. I heard this isn’t the first time they struck. There was another theft about a week ago in Milan… It could be a big story,” he offers.

I want to kiss him in earnest now. A series of jewelry heists would be the perfect excuse to give Perry!

“Since you seem to know about it — how about working with me on the story?” I offer, before I can even think it through. He is a travel writer — and a secret superhero. Would he buy the bait so I can get close to him?

“I’d love to help you… But the byline should be all yours,” he answers, surprising me.

A selfless superhero? Careful Lane, or you might just fall for Clark Kent in earnest.

***

After Clark leaves, with a promise that I will meet him at the scene of the latest jewelry heist in a few hours, I call Perry. He is surprised to hear I have decided to skip out on Africa, but he trusts my instincts. I feel my belly flop with nerves, knowing I’m gambling with Kent. Either he will open up to me and let me write a story about him in full disclosure, or he will realize I’m playing a double game with him and disappear. I still plan on writing the story either way, but it would be so much better if my reluctant hero backs me up.

I head out into the city after my call with Perry, intent on finding out what the papers in Italy have already said about this jewelry heist. I know I’m being ambitious, hoping to understand the Italian, but I am confident that with a dictionary in my hand I can at least find out the basic facts as a starting point for my own investigation.

When I go to the newsstand, I’m relieved to find a paper in English, written by the Italian press called ‘Corrieri della Sera.’ I pay a few lire and settle down at a café near the Spanish Steps to get as much background as I can from the local press.

Unfortunately, there is little said about the heists… I know from experience with the Daily Planet that our international versions of top stories aren’t as detailed as the originals, and I have a sinking suspicion this may be true for this paper. All the paper says is that a diamond necklace was stolen, worth a lot of lire — I can’t make the exact conversion, but my estimate is that it’s over 2 million US dollars. No suspects were named, but police believe it was either someone highly skilled or at least someone who worked at the palace.

I sigh and glance at my watch — I have about forty-five minutes before meeting Clark at the Palazzo Barberini. I hope to beat Clark to the Palazzo to do some snooping of my own and find out if anyone has been recently hired or has left since the jewelry theft.

I consult my map and plan my route to the Palazzo. I would try and take a tram, but the maps for those are tiny and confusing, and the metro in Rome is nothing to speak of. So, I’m off on foot… A true city girl, I’m attracted to the busyness and bustling feeling of Rome. What unsettles me a bit — and not necessarily in a bad way — is how everything feels so old and foreign.

The streets are uneven, and the colors of the buildings in the sunlight often distract me, making me lose my footing now and then when I look up. Everything looks like a movie set, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve stepped into another world.

In a moment of me admiring the dramatic statues in the Piazza Navona, I feel a tug on my arm. I turn, and see a small boy scamper off with my bag. I shout ‘Hey!’ and run after him, my impractical heels having difficulty finding an even footing on the cobblestones. I tumble head first into the stone pavement, humiliated on two counts. I can’t believe a smart city girl like me allowed herself to be robbed — by a kid, no less! — and that I didn’t have the grace to catch myself before I fell. I get up, my wrap floral dress a little worse for the wear, and my pride bruised a bit more than my elbow.

One man comes over to help me up, saying something incomprehensible in Italian. The best I could understand was ‘normale’ with a shrug of his shoulders, which I best interpret as ‘this happens all the time.’

I say ‘grazie’ and brush off his offer for further assistance. I am grateful that at least my passport is safe in my hotel room — but my credit cards, my pager — everything else has been taken.

I hear the bells chime across the city, and I realize I only have fifteen minutes to meet Clark, leaving me no time to investigate on my own. I really don’t want to face him like this. I want to appear capable and alluring — not bruised and in need of rescuing.

As I limp away towards the rendezvous point, I realize I could use the situation to my advantage and appear the helpless damsel in distress. But I resist wanting to play on Clark’s sympathies. I want to get him to open up to me because he trusts me, not because I manipulate him into trusting me. I hate women who manipulate — like Cat Grant. I refuse to be that girl.

At last, I make it to the Palazzo Barberini. Clark is waiting on the steps, looking more handsome than I remember. He sees I’m a little worse for the wear and comes over to me immediately.

“Are you all right? What happened?” he asks solicitously.

For just a moment, I think of tossing myself into his arms and playing up the drama. But it’s just not me. So instead, the armor comes up, and I push him away.

“Fine. Nothing a little investigating won’t cure. So, what’s the story?” I say brightly.

His concerned gaze meets mine, and I look away. I don’t want his sympathy — I want his trust. And if I become the simpering damsel, there’s no way he will tell me the secret that he keeps so close to his chest. He needs to see I’m strong, capable, and can be counted on.

I look back up at him, willing him to see I’m fine. After a moment, he nods. “I read the paper and talked to one of the security guys. This palazzo is mainly a painting gallery. The jewelry stolen was from the private collection in the main house. It sounds like an inside job.”

I nod. “Are they letting people back into the museum?”

“Yes, that is still open. But I don’t see what good it will do to go poking around there. What we need — ”

“ — is to know who works there,” I finish for him, and he looks at me with happy surprise.

I stop a moment too, pleased that we are on the same wavelength.

“Yeah, exactly. So I found out that there was a crop of new hires about two weeks ago, shortly after the heist in Milan. Three men and two women were hired from an agency that supposedly does a thorough vetting job for important clients. The agency has an English name though; it’s called Personnel Matters.”

I look at him with stunned admiration and maybe just a bit of jealousy. “You did your homework, Kent. I’m impressed. Are you sure you’re not an investigative journalist?” I tease only slightly.

He has the grace to look humble and shakes his head. “No, but I somehow find myself investigating stories more than I mean to.”

I’ll just bet he does. Having superpowers has to make one curious, I would think. And a superhero with an altruistic streak would certainly be loath to let unsolved crimes go by the wayside.

“So, do you think there is anyone we should talk to here? I can check the Daily Planet database later for the company name… that could be our next lead.”

“How far are you willing to go to pursue it?” he asks, and I suddenly wonder by the soft tone of his voice if he’s talking about more than this jewel heist story.

I self-consciously push my hair back behind my ear. “Well, um… I don’t know, Clark. How — how far are you willing to go?” I ask, hearing a shaking in my voice that I didn’t expect. He steps up closer to me and gently rubs his thumb over the side of my jaw.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks, making my insides melt, his eyes looking me over for damage. I’ve seen how strong he is, yet he keeps it all in check. His touch is feather light on my face, yet I know it will leave a mark — on my heart.

I step away from him, trying to focus. “I’m fine, Clark. Really, I am,” I say, feeling far from it.

“Um, so… what do you think we should do?”

Some misguided ideas cross my mind that make me blush, but I quickly shake myself out of it. I want to see the extent of Clark’s abilities, and one way to test him is to get him to do some investigating with me.

“Well, I was thinking of getting inside the palazzo. You know, see what we can see. Maybe talk to some of the people who work there.”

“I don’t think we’ll find much in the museum,” he says with uncertainty.

I roll my eyes at him, glad that he still has something to learn from me. “We only start with the museum — the goal is to get inside the palazzo itself. Now come on! And try to keep up!” I say, tugging him towards the ticket window to the museum.

***

We enter the museum, and I tell Clark to leave his jacket and tie at coat check. I want him to look more casual in case we have to blend in. He seems skeptical at the idea, but suddenly notices I am not carrying a purse.

“I — er, lost it,” I mumble, hoping he’ll drop the subject.

He touches my arm, gently coaxing me to look at him. “Lois, were you robbed? Is that what happened on your way to meet me?”

I nod, but shrug it off. “It’s no biggie. I’ll call my credit card companies when I get back to the hotel. It happens all the time in Metropolis.”

His thumb gently strokes my forearm and my heart starts doing flip-flops at his touch. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything. Just ask.”

I nod and regretfully pull my arm away from him. I’m still astonished at how such a powerful man can also have the capacity to be so gentle. Just another little mystery to solve about Clark Kent.

We head into the museum, pretending to care about the Caravaggios and the Raphaels the museum has on display. I immediately start looking for closed off areas that might lead into the main house.

It’s late in the afternoon, and lucky for us, there don’t seem to be many of the obligatory museum workers whose job it is to make sure you don’t touch anything. I also note that there are not many security cameras around — only near the valuable pieces. This will help our chances of slipping into the lived-in part of the palazzo without being seen.

At last I see a corded off stairway. I wave to Clark who seems genuinely interested in some painting with a woman draped in some diaphanous gown. In annoyance, I call to him and eventually he comes over.

“What did you find?”

“This!” I say triumphantly, ducking under the rope. “Come on!”

He hesitates for just a second, but then quickly follows me. We find ourselves in a marble stairway. There are several doors, and the ones I try are locked. I glance at Clark, and he semi-inconspicuously pulls down his glasses and shakes his head.

He turns to me, “I think we should try further upstairs.”

I try not to let my jaw drop, but I think he may have just literally looked through those solidly closed doors! It’s just a theory, but I will definitely keep an eye on him using that particular trick again.

He beats me up the stairs and suggests we try the door in the middle. I don’t have my handy credit cards to try and swipe through the lock, but I do have a bobby pin. I pull one out of my hair and start jimmying the lock. But these are old European locks, and I think they work differently than the standard issue ones I’ve often come across in Metropolis.

I glance at Clark. “I can’t get it open.”

“Here, let me try,” he offers. “Look down the stairwell and make sure no one’s followed us.”

I give him a wry smile, betting he’s about to do something only he can and wants to have me out of the way to do it, but I do as I’m told. When I turn back, he has the door open — imagine that.

“Well, guess you’re useful for something after all,” I tease, trying to see if there was any damage done to the lock, but Clark’s hand is covering the handle.

He smiles bashfully and gestures that I should enter first.

We are suddenly in a plush, carpeted hallway. It’s a little narrow, and I wonder if we got lucky and found ourselves in the servants quarters.

I gesture for Clark to follow me as if I know where I’m going, which I do not. But I can’t help smirk at the idea that this powerhouse of a guy is willing to follow little old me around. Could he really be doing it because he’s falling for me? I feel flattered and a little guilty if it’s true. I’m only using him for a story after all. Lois Lane cannot have another love debacle on her hands. Right now, it’s time to focus on the career, and hopefully I’ll manage to get Kent to help me get back to being top banana at the Planet.

I hear some girls chatting in Italian. Great. I forgot that little detail. How are we supposed to find out what they know when we can’t speak the language?

Clark suddenly steps ahead of me and begins talking to the two maids — in Italian. Is there no end to the man’s talents?

“Scusiamo, io sono Clark Kent, uno reporter americano e io cerco informazione della collana rubata?” he says in a lilting voice. I wonder just how many sides there are to Clark Kent… the flying superhero, the European linguist, the Houdini who sees through doors and gets through locked ones…

The girls giggle and answer him. Obviously, they are swept up in his handsome good looks, which irritates me irrationally. I cross my arms and pretend to understand something of what is being said.

My ears perk up when I hear the name Lex Luthor.

“What’s he doing here?” I ask, though Clark motions for me to wait a moment as the girls finish telling him their story. Lex Luthor is a famous philanthropist in Metropolis and someone whom I’ve suspected for a while has been involved in less than savory dealings. In fact, he was one of my ‘out there’ suspects for who might be behind the gunrunning in the Congo. Suddenly, this jewel heist story just got very interesting.

We leave a few minutes later, with the girls still smiling and giggling. Clark doesn’t say a word until we are back wandering in the museum.

“What was that all about? And when did you learn to speak Italian?” I ask, still surprised by his skill. Are languages another one of his powers?

“One question at a time. I learn languages easily,” he answers casually. “And yes, they did mention Lex Luthor. Do you know who he is?”

“Unless you’ve been hiding under a bushel, you should know who he is, too! He’s an important and very rich philanthropist in Metropolis. But — ”I hesitate. This is my story after all, and the more I tell him, the more likely he could do the whole story himself. I just don’t want to be in that position again…

He seems to notice my dilemma and looks directly into my eyes. “Lois, it’s okay. I won’t steal your story. Scout’s honor,” he says, raising his three fingers in a scout salute that is so adorable I relent.

“Okay, okay. I know…” I say, knowing I have enough dirt on him so that even if he does double-cross me, I could have his story printed before you can say, ‘stop the presses!’ “Lex Luthor is known for a lot of charity work. But he also is a billionaire. His company makes ordinary household products like paper towels and plastic cups. But I recently discovered he also has a whole other hush-hush branch of LexCorp that is called LL Industries, and they do all this secret technology work… I also think he has his hand in a few other pies around the city, including some mob dealings — which is where my lead in Africa came from — ”

“Lois — you’re babbling. Get to the point,” Clark says, shaking me out of my Mad Dog Lane babble mode.

“Oh, sorry. Anyway, it would be great for my — um, our story if I can tie Lex to these thefts,” I correct myself, hoping he doesn’t focus on me calling the story my own. “So what did Mopsy and Flopsy upstairs have to say to you?”

“Well, they are not the new hires from Personnel Matters, but they do know the gossip around the palazzo. It seems Mr. Luthor was here for dinner about a week ago with an opera singer. And the opera singer was admiring the necklace Mr. Brandini, the owner, had on display. Apparently, Lex offered to buy it from him, but Mr. Brandini refused, saying it had sentimental value or something. And get this. It is the sister stone to the Hope Diamond.” He pauses to let that sink in a minute. I feel my eyes grow wide as saucers as the story seems to grow bigger by the minute. “Legend has it that the Hope Diamond was stolen from a statue of Sita, a goddess in India. The diamonds were the eyes. It was always assumed that the second diamond was lost… but here it has resurfaced.”

I am intrigued by his story. This will make a heck of an article and I feel my reporter juices pumping.

“Did you learn anything else?” I ask, still reeling from the fact that Lex Luthor is somehow tied up in this.

“Yes, in fact. Apparently the opera diva Lex Luthor is seeing is performing tonight at the Teatro Costanzi.” He suddenly gives me a megawatt grin as he offers me his arm. “Lois? How do you feel about seeing an opera tonight?”

***

With my credit cards stolen, I have to rely on the wardrobe I already have for the opera tonight. Back in my room, I stare at the two evening dresses I have packed, trying to determine which I should wear tonight. I need to be stunning, but I also should wear something that I can move in freely if we end up doing some investigating backstage. I have a long burgundy dress and a flirty black one that is mid-length. Somehow the black one seems too sweet for the opera, so it will have to be the long burgundy one, even though the short train on the back will make any daring movements absolutely impossible.

As I dress and do my hair and make-up, I can’t help the flutter of excitement I feel in my stomach. I can’t wait to see Clark dressed up in a suit again, and even though I know nothing about opera, I’ve always thought it would be romantic to go to one. Clark took care of the tickets this afternoon, and I have no idea what we are even seeing, except that it is in Italian.

Since we got a late start, we decided to skip dinner together and just meet at the theater at seven-thirty, as the opera starts at eight.

I arrive just a little bit late, but Clark is there, looking so handsome in his black and white tux that it would give James Bond a run for his money. I cover a small smile as I take his arm, deciding that hanging out with Clark is far better than trudging through the jungles of the Congo would have been.

“So, what exactly are we seeing, Mr. Kent?” I ask playfully as he hands me my ticket.

“Così fan tutte, a comedy by Mozart,” he says unhelpfully, as I only recognize the name Mozart, but know nothing about his music. “The title means ‘they are all like that.”

“Who? Men?” I say, trying to bite back the bitterness in my tone.

“No, actually, women,” he says, concealing a smile at my retort.

“So, what is it about?”

Clark describes the basic plot as we walk through the lush marble lobby, and are ushered to our seats. “It starts out with two sisters who are in love with two men. They praise them and say how none can compare to them. The men, with the help of a devious ‘friend’, say they need to test the fidelity of the women.”

“Ha!” I scoff. “It’s the men who should be tested for fidelity!”

“Well, they are tested as well, but it’s not the main point of the plot. Anyway, the men pretend to go off to war and return dressed as Albanian princes. Each tries to woo the other’s love.”

“I’m sure the women are smart enough to see through that disguise! After all, it’s not the clothes that make the man! No one could fool me for a second in a disguise…” I say, confident in my ability to see through ruses — it is part of my job, after all.

“Anyway, one of the sisters resist, and the other succumbs, but by the end, both the girls have fallen in love with the other suitor.”

“That is ridiculous. And I suppose the men are blameless in this little scheme?” I ask, feeling a little smug that my suspicions about the inanity of opera are proving accurate.

“Well, that’s what makes this opera so interesting. The ending libretto is ambiguous as to who is to blame, and even who ends up with whom. It’s up to the director to decide how it ends,” Clark finishes, sitting down next to me in our little box.

I’m prepared to be bored and even annoyed by the opera after Clark’s little summary, but as the music starts, I’m completely carried away to another place. Yes, the plot is silly, but it also shows how ridiculous people can act when they are in love — or when they think they are in love. It’s not until the middle of the first act, though that I remember the opera diva, as her necklace suddenly catches the light.

“Clark!” I lean over to whisper in his ear. “Is that the necklace that was stolen?”

He pulls down his glasses and looks over them. I wonder again what he can do with his eyes… someday I hope he’ll tell me. He nods, “Yes. I can’t believe she has the audacity to wear it on stage like that. If anyone who knows about the theft is here tonight…”

“We have to get backstage at the end and try to talk to her,” I say, settling back into my seat.

Clark looks over at me and smiles. “So you like it? You don’t mind staying till the end? I mean, we could go during intermission — ”

I shake my head, “No, it’s fine… I mean, I like it.” I try to tell myself that I have just discovered a passion for the opera, but honestly, I am almost more enjoying sitting next to Clark Kent.

The next act has me more intrigued by an opera than I ever thought could be possible. I find myself edging ever closer to Clark during a love duet about hearts pounding and passion. My hand slips into Clark’s, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. I glance over at him, and he offers me a sweet smile that has my insides fluttering with excitement. Is it the opera or the man that has captured my attention so completely?

I’m swept up by the music more than the story, and I definitely feel more than I’ve allowed myself to feel in months. There are moments that have me laughing — like the maid pretending to be a doctor to cure the men who have pretended to be poisoned. Who thinks up these plots?! But there are also moments that have me near tears, with the sheer passion and joy of the music. I’m so happy that Clark brought me here, even if it was just for a story. I know, that however this all turns out, going to the opera with him will be a memory that I’ll cherish forever.

When the final curtain falls, we don’t sit around to applaud for half an hour, like the rest of the audience seem prepared to do. We have to get backstage to talk to the diva in the necklace.

She played the more serious sister, and I wonder if she has a formidable offstage personality to match the intensity with which she sang tonight.

Clark leads me outside and around to the back of the opera house. The air is warm, and the full moon is just starting to come out. I still feel the vestiges of the magic created in the opera house, and I don’t want to lose this moment.

I suddenly stop and pull Clark’s arm to look at me.

“What is it, Lois?” he asks.

I look up at him, thinking of how since the moment he rescued my plane out of the air he has intrigued me. He’s one hell of a story, but he’s also an incredible guy as well. I have this feeling that it could all end any second. That he’ll see through my motives or he’ll just disappear because he can. And I can’t let him go without knowing, what it would be like —

I suddenly reach around his neck and pull him towards me. He gets the idea and pulls me closer to him. Our lips meet, and I feel the electric intensity of passion between us. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my hands can’t help themselves from pulling him closer, feeling the long planes of his back, the strength of his arms, and the silkiness of his hair.

Moments later, we stop kissing, though both of us are breathing a bit raggedly. I feel as if I’ve just drunk a fine champagne. I almost want to dance with the joy of it, of him. I suddenly don’t care who he is or where he is from or how he got his abilities. All I can think is that Clark Kent is one hell of a kisser.

“Lois,” he says intensely, holding my hand to his chest.

I realize I have to stop him. I can feel he wants to confess his heart to me, and I don’t want him to. I don’t want to hear that the kiss affected him the way it did me. I don’t want to fall for him — I can’t! Even with this necklace story, I still need his story… Don’t I? If he’s a secret government agent or some experiment gone awry, the world needs to know about it — doesn’t it? And if it helps boost me to international renown —

I take a step back from him, terribly torn. He’s a reporter, as well. I still don’t know how much I can trust him. After all, aren’t I being just as double-crossing by trying to scoop his own personal story? Suddenly I’m nauseous, sensing this has all gone wrong. I should just let the Clark Kent story drop, yet the reporter in me tells me that would be a stupid thing to do. I need his story to save my career. A jewelry heist is one thing. But a super powered man — is a completely different ballgame.

“Lois? What is it?”

“Nothing… I’m fine. I think we need to hurry, though. Who knows how long after the applause we’ll have to talk to the diva?”

He seems hesitant, and I know he wants to talk about the kiss we just shared. But I can’t let him. I pull him along instead to the backstage entrance.

It’s much easier than I thought it would be to get inside. No one is standing guard except for a stagehand finishing a cigarette. She doesn’t give us a second glance as we walk right past her into the backstage entrance. I guess people don’t expect snoopers after an opera — maybe that’s only at rock concerts.

We spot the singer at a backstage dressing table. But just as we are about to approach her, I see Lex Luthor and three Italian police officers in tow approaching her from the other side of the stage.

“That’s her. I told you it wasn’t me who stole the necklace!” Luthor says, pointing at the singer.

Clark and I move to the shadows to watch the scene unfold behind some of the offstage scenery.

The soprano looks up in horror and then in shock as the policemen come towards her with handcuffs. She glances at Lex and starts screaming at him in Italian.

“Io non sono un ladro! Era un regalo! Lo ha dato me!” she is crying, stomping her foot, and gesturing wildly at Luthor. Lex is saying something in Italian to the officers, but in a lower voice.

I glance at Clark, and he shakes his head. “She says she’s not a thief. That it was a present from Luthor. But Luthor says she has stolen other things from him as well.”

I look back at the drama unfolding before us, and sure enough, a gold watch is found in her bag by one of the officers. She looks in shock at the police, but she has lost her case.

“She obviously has been set up!” I cry to Clark, indignant. “We have to prove that Luthor set her up!” I am almost ready to jump in and tell the police myself that the singer couldn’t possibly have stolen the necklace, that Luthor is not the most honest of men, that — But Clark’s hand on my arm stops me.

“Lois… do you really want to get further involved in this? I mean… it could be a big story, but it could also be dangerous if what you told me about Lex Luthor is true.”

“Clark! She’s innocent. The least we can do is try to help! If I send a write up about this to Perry tonight, the international press will be all over it, and they will have to start investigating Luthor. Come on, Kent! We have a story to write!”

***

On the way back to my hotel room, all I can think about is the kiss that Clark and I shared after the opera. The strains of the music still play in my mind, and the sensation of being in Clark’s arms still resonates in my body. I’m helplessly smitten, right when I can least afford to be.

At least I have the jewelry heist story to write with him. I glance over at him in the cab, wondering what it would be like to do this sort of stuff all the time with him in Metropolis. Would he ever consider working for the Daily Planet? I know he has some sort of superhero agenda tied up in his travel writer persona, but a selfish part of me would love to work side by side with him on a daily basis.

I stop myself. Am I really saying that I’d like him as a partner? That I can trust him? Maybe… yes. No. I mean, he still hasn’t even hinted at what he’s capable of to me. Maybe he still doesn’t really trust me. And why should he? I have the makings of a Pulitzer Prize winning story on my word processor about him, if only I could get him to talk to me about it.

I think about just questioning him, blatantly. But I know that would be a mistake. If he’s worked so hard to hide what he’s really capable of, then he is quite likely to take off and leave me if I press him on it. And that scares me. I’m starting to like having him around…

At last, we arrive at my hotel room. It almost feels like a date, still dressed up from the opera and just enough sexual tension from that kiss between us to make me interested in what could happen next, but we still have work to do.

“I think we could use some coffee,” Clark says, heading over to the little counter top with coffee supplies.

“That’s perfect. I’ll start writing,” I say, pulling out my word processor.

While Clark is busy with the coffee, I open up my computer and connect the cable for the internet. Clark is taking forever with the coffee — it’s an Italian press, which takes some patience to work with. I’ve just been ducking down to the nearby café in the morning, not even daring to attempt working that bizarre contraption.

I open a new file, feeling guilty about the file about Clark on my computer. I am tempted to come clean with him, but I know it wouldn’t end in him doing the same with me. If he knew I was pursuing him because of a story, I’m certain that he’d disappear out of my life forever. And while losing the story on him would be disappointing, losing his company would hurt even more.

Finally, Clark comes over with a steaming cup of coffee. I take a sip, shocked by how much stronger it is than the Daily Planet sludge I’m used to. “Now this is a cup of coffee!”I say brightly.

Clark nods, taking an appreciative sip. “Yeah, the Italians are really good at opera and coffee. Though Turkish coffee is even better in my mind…”

He starts describing to me his coffee experience in Turkey while I start on writing the story. Eventually his attention is drawn back to what I’m writing and he pulls up a chair beside me. We decide to write an editorial on whether or not an opera diva could be considered guilty of stealing the jewels or was it more likely her billionaire boyfriend set her up. Clark suggests that we don’t mention Lex Luthor by name until we have more proof. My fingers are itching to include his name in the story, but even without Luthor it still reads as an interesting piece that will definitely need a follow up.

I look over at Clark as he reads back through the story for errors, and I feel excited at the thought of writing another story with him. Oh, what am I saying? I should be doing this alone — I should be trying to figure out how Clark got his powers! I should not be fantasizing about having a partner! It’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place!

I sigh, and Clark glances at me a little defensively. “What? That comma is misplaced — I didn’t change the meaning, I only — ”

“No,” I shake my head, secretly enjoying watching him squirm. “There’s one thing missing in this article.”

Clark looks seriously at the page, thinking hard. “I don’t think so. It reads pretty easily — your editor will be pleased.”

I swing the keyboard slightly over to face me and take control of the mouse. I go back to the top of the document and stop at my byline.

“It’s missing your name,” I say, typing it in next to mine. “You did say you are a freelancer, right?”

“Lois, you don’t have to,” he says, but he looks pleased.

Yes, I do, I think, wanting to appease my own conscience. If I do end up using his story in all of this, I want him to know that I am not always selfish. That I can recognize when someone is genuinely helping me.

“Perry will be pleased that I have a partner on this. He’s already relieved I didn’t go to the Congo. Besides, you wrote half of it — your name deserves to be on there with mine. And didn’t you say you hoped to write for the Daily Planet one day?”

Clark suddenly grins happily, and I feel my insides melt with pleasure. “Thanks, Lois,” he says. “ You’re a good friend.”

***

“Lois, this is a great little story you sent me — has a real human interest angle with the opera singer. Not your usual line, but it suits you,” Perry was saying to me on the phone the next day.

“Thanks, Perry. I hope to have a follow-up for you soon — ” I begin, but Perry interrupts.

“But who the hell is this Clark Kent? And why is he on your byline?”

I swallow, knowing this was coming. “Well, he’s a freelancer I met in Paris. We — were on the tail of the same story and, well, we ended up writing it together,” I say, feeling my cheeks flame.

“You? Working with a partner? I thought you learned your lesson in that department, Lois,” Perry chides. I knew he wasn’t going to buy it. “Is there more you aren’t telling me?”

I feel embarrassed that it suddenly looks like I can’t hold my own alone. That maybe I met someone who I feel something for and am letting it interfere with my work. I can’t let Perry think that about me. He’ll never trust me to go solo again. Oh why did I put Clark’s name on the byline? Why? Because he deserved it, and you know it.

“Lois? What exactly is your interest with this Clark Kent character?” Perry persists.

The reporter in me suddenly takes over; the woman who fought through journalism school and worked her tail off for a spot on the Daily Planet’s payroll starts speaking and I can’t shut her up. “Well, actually, Clark might be a story all on his own. I can’t say much more than that, Perry, except — he’s pretty incredible. But I’m working with him to get the real scoop. I have to get him to trust me first, to confide in me. This one might be the big fish I’ve been looking for. You just got to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Lois. I just hope you know what you’re doing… Is this Kent character dangerous?” Perry suddenly asks, assuming his parental role that he does from time to time, a side to him that I find as endearing as I do aggravating.

“No, Perry. He’s not dangerous. He’s — well, I’ll tell you more when I know more. But for now, just know I’m safe with him. I’ll call soon when we have the follow-up to the jewelry thief piece, okay?”

“Okay, Lois. Just be careful.”

I hang up the phone, feeling slightly ill. I did it. I put Clark under Perry’s radar. Clark’s secret will have to come out eventually, one way or another — especially if Perry starts questioning me more about him. I only hope that Clark confides in me before I’m put in that position.

***

I meet Clark later that afternoon for a coffee at a sidewalk café.

“Perry loved our story! He’s looking forward to the follow-up,” I say cheerfully as I sip my latte and conveniently leave out the part about me mentioning why I was willing to work with a partner.

“That’s great! I really appreciate you sharing your byline, Lois,” Clark said, beaming a heart-stopping smile in my direction. “You helped me realize a little dream of mine, to write for the Daily Planet.”

I am torn apart by guilt; he seems to trust me so implicitly, and I fear I’m walking an ever finer line between being his friend and betraying him.

I shake off the feeling and go straight to business, avoiding my conscience all together. “I think our next step should be to interview Lex Luthor,” I suggest. I’ve been dying to get an interview with him in Metropolis for months. And this could be a perfect in!

“Is that a good idea, Lois? He probably knows who you are — and if he is as suspect as you say, do you really want to get on his bad side?”

“Clark, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t think we need to worry about anything. We simply go to his hotel and say we are concerned about the allegations brought against his girlfriend. He doesn’t need to know why we are there exactly. And maybe he’ll give something away — or maybe,” I say leaning in conspiratorially, “we can do some snooping while we’re there!”

“You seem to enjoy snooping,” Clark says in a teasing manner.

I shrug casually. “It goes with the territory — but it is a lot of fun!”

***

“Venice?” I turn to Clark with annoyance. Just when I think I have Luthor in my sights…

Clark and I questioned the front desk at the luxurious Westin Excelsior for nearly an hour until we finally got it out of one of the bellhops that Luthor had left for Venice this morning. We — well, I should say I — almost got us kicked out when I pushed the issue, but luckily Clark is a smooth talker, and very diplomatically explained that we were looking out for the billionaire, trying to keep him out of a scandal or some such nonsense.

That’s when a bellhop pulled us aside and said that Luthor was on his way to the famed City of Bridges.

“We have to go after him!” I say, thrilling as well to the thought of seeing that enchanted city. “We could be in Venice by this evening, Clark!” I say, seeing his eyes sparkle with the idea as well — but we could be there even sooner if he let me in on his little secret. I can only imagine what it would be like to fly in Clark’s arms over Italy to Venice…

“Hold your horses there, Lois… I think we should try to talk to the opera diva first. You know, get her side of the story?” he suggests reasonably.

“Absolutely,” I relent, and shake myself out the daydream. “Let’s go then.”

As we walk side by side through the cobbled streets, I get the feeling something else is weighing on Clark’s mind. I am almost afraid to ask him, thinking of all the little ways I’ve tricked him into trusting me — honestly, he has all the reason in the world to be worried.

Clark eventually seems to screw up some courage and turns to face me, his brown eyes serious and compelling. “Lois? As much as I’m enjoying pursuing this story with you — I can’t help feel that’s all this is about — a story.”

That stops me dead in my tracks. Because it is true. This is all about his story.

“What do you mean, Clark?” I ask innocently, but inwardly my heart’s in turmoil.

“I mean, I thought we were doing this story to get to know each other — maybe even romantically?” he asks with some confusion. “I mean — that kiss the other night — was — ”

“Spectacular,” I say almost unconsciously under my breath, remembering, but quickly recover. “I mean, yes it was — nice. But — what are you asking me, Clark?”

He seems to struggle to muster up some more courage, but eventually looks me in the eye again, his earnest expression cutting through my heart like a knife. “I guess — when this story is all over — what then? Will we just go our separate ways?”

I haven’t thought of that. I have only thought of the end result — of somehow getting Clark’s story, and hopefully getting him to support me writing it. But — beyond a story?

Maybe I could turn this back on him. He’s the travel writer — the man who has to be everywhere at once — and the only person who can pull it off more credibly than anyone else I’ve ever met before, too.

“Well, don’t you have an obligation to the Borneo Gazette?” I ask forcefully. “I mean, what if your next assignment is in South America or Australia? What then, Clark?”

“The Borneo Gazette is only a stepping stone for me, Lois…” He looks thoughtfully at me, maybe even a little hopeful. “Do you think — I mean, if it were possible — do you think there could be a place for me in Metropolis? At the Daily Planet?”

I turn to him with a quizzical expression, wondering why a powerhouse like him, with his amazing abilities, would want to settle into working in one city as a journalist. The whole world could be his. I don’t flatter myself for one moment to believe that he would want to do it just for me, even if there is an obvious attraction between us. He had mentioned, after all, that he had always dreamed of writing for the Planet. But the look in his eyes — he seemed to be looking for more from me that just this one story.

“Clark — ” I begin, torn between wanting to let him down gently that I can’t make any such promises and wanting to give him hope that he could have exactly what he wanted. “Can we just finish this story? And see where the road takes us?”

He sighs, seeing that I am not ready to give him any sort of commitment — partner or otherwise — and nods in acquiescence. “Sure. Maybe this story will get your editor’s attention. And maybe you could put in a good word for me?” he asks me hopefully.

I start walking again, not looking at him. Thanks to me, Perry now knows that Clark Kent is a story in and of himself. No doubt, Perry would hire him — but he’d want to know the whole truth about him first. One way or another, I have to get down to the bottom of the mystery that is Clark Kent.

***

The diva has left the building — er, prison.

Apparently, it pays to be an opera singer. They need her at the opera house tonight because some bigwig refuses to listen to a stand-in, so she was released on bail. This gives Clark and me an extra shot at interviewing the people backstage, and also hopefully the diva herself.

No fancy dress tonight, though. Clark, after a little coercion from moi, has agreed that we need to get backstage during the performance. This will require some undercover work, namely pretending to be part of the cast.

We stake out nearby the opera house, waiting for said cast to arrive. Our goal is to blend in and say we’re part of the chorus. We don’t have to wait long, as by seven o’clock, singers are arriving. I tug at Clark’s sleeve and we head towards the door.

“Is this really going to work, Lois?” he asks doubtfully.

Honestly, I’m not sure, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone manning the door. People are just going in willy-nilly.

“Sure? Why not? Let’s go!” I say, following a guy into the stage entrance.

I tap Clark on the arm purposefully, “Tell this guy we’re replacements for the chorus and ask where we can get dressed.”

Clark rolls his eyes, but breaks out his Italian and charm. The guy is friendly, though he looks at Clark a bit skeptically. He eventually accepts Clark’s explanation and points us down a hallway. Perfect! We’re in!

As we make our way, we hear a soprano warming up. I’m pretty sure it’s our diva and I gesture to Clark to follow me.

“She sounds busy, Lois. Maybe we should try during a lull in the action on stage…”

“Clark! This may be our only chance! Now, come on!”

Clark and I make our way to the dressing room and knock on the door.

“Scusi, Buena sera, Madama,” Clark begins when she opens the door. I hadn’t paid much attention the other night, but now I notice how beautiful she is in person. Her curly brown hair is piled high on her head, accenting her round brown eyes and her small up-turned nose. She’s standing in front of her mirror in an eighteenth century corset and stockings, petite and beautiful. I try not to feel a stab of jealousy as Clark talks to her sympathetically.

She gestures wildly with her hands and seems outraged as she explains something to him. I assume she’s describing the circumstances of her arrest. When Clark mentions Luthor’s name, her face scrunches up and she crosses her arms angrily. By her expression, I’m guessing she is no longer enamored of the billionaire.

A few moments later, another knock sounds on the door. I assume it’s time for the show or something, but instead a messenger pops in with a note for la diva.

“Grazie,” she says and reads the note. “Signor, cosè molto interessante! Benissimo!” she cries, gesturing for Clark to read the note.

I feel totally out of the loop and wait for Clark to clue me in.

“What’s going on?” I ask at last, seeing the diva grab onto Clark’s arm as he reads.

“It seems Madama Costini has been freed of all charges. They found the supposed thief,” he says, but then leans towards me confidingly, “But I’m guessing it’s more likely they found the scapegoat that Luthor paid to set her up.”

Clark turns to ask the singer something else and she nods, “Sì, io lo penso assai.”

Clark nods at me in return, “She agrees. She told me the reason he’s going to Venice is that there is a rare green gemstone discovered there, brighter than an emerald. She said it was brought there by some wealthy Americans twenty-odd years ago and suddenly Luthor has an interest in it.”

“Maybe we can catch him at his own game,” I say, thinking of the advantages we have on our side with Clark’s abilities.

“You seem awfully sure of that,” Clark says with surprise, making me a little uncomfortable. Had I just given something away?

“Well, why not? Lois and Clark have done well so far — now we have the follow-up story to declare Madama Costini’s innocence, and we have a lead on Luthor. What more do we need?”

Clark smiles and then turns back to the diva, “Cantano belissima questa sera! Ciao, Madama.”

She smiles in return. “Grazie mille, Signor! Ciao!”

We leave her dressing room and head back towards the backstage area. “I guess it’s pointless to get dressed up then, huh?” I say, feeling a little let down as I eye a ruffled maid’s costume that I would rather die than admit that I’d like to try on. I secretly love undercover work.

“You sound disappointed, Lois. I’m surprised. Can you actually sing opera?” he asks me with a teasing note in his voice.

“Passably, yes — maybe, I don’t know…” I say, knowing the limit of my talents probably doesn’t include opera. “But we wouldn’t have had to sing. Anyway, it’s a moot point. The diva is free of all charges, and we have a lead. Now all we need to do is head to Venice. Could you book us a hotel?”

“One room?” he asks, and I detect a hint of nervous anticipation in his tone.

“Well, why not? We’re adults. I am still out some credit cards, remember?” I say a bit more caustically than I mean to, recalling Perry harrumphing at me about being more careful.

Luckily, my Rome hotel was already paid for, but I have no way of pre-booking another hotel. And heck, I admit that being confined to a hotel room with Clark Kent has its appeal. I don’t know what is tempting me to play with fire, but I have a feeling my boy scout won’t let a lady sit out in the cold.

“Well, it is high tourist season. Will the Planet reimburse our expenses? This isn’t exactly a Gazette story so — ”

I roll my eyes, knowing I’ll have to sweet talk Perry a bit. “It won’t be a problem,” I say confidently. “Let’s just hope we can get a hotel at all.”

***

I always thought that taking a train across Europe would be a highly romantic experience. I never counted on the intrinsically slow nature of Italians, which apparently extends to their train system. We literally have been stopping every half hour for at least fifteen minutes at every stop. I look longingly at Clark, wanting desperately to ask him to whoosh us out of here and up into the skies towards Venice, but I know that is impossible.

But I can’t resist saying, “Why didn’t we just fly?”

I have the pleasure of seeing him squirm at this a second, and I try to hide my smile. What must it be like for him to be able to fly — and to have to hide it at every turn?

“It would have been much quicker to just hop on a plane,” I qualify, letting him off the hook.

“I hate planes… and besides, what better way to see the countryside?” Clark says, gesturing to the lush rolling Tuscan hills around us.

“I suppose so,” I answer, though the summer heat is making it difficult to appreciate the scenery around us. Italians apparently don’t believe in air conditioning or gratuitous use of deodorant, and the train car is stuffy and full of sweaty passengers. “I just hope Luthor doesn’t skip town before we can get there.”

A strong, oily odor suddenly catches my nose, which is a difficult thing to do considering the odiferous confines of the train. I look at Clark, who wears an expression that tells me he has smelled it, too.

“That’s odd,” I say. “It smells like — ”

But before I can say anything further, Clark stands up and says to me, “I — need to find the restroom.”

He says it so panicky and moves so quickly towards the back of the train, that I am certain he is checking out the smell of burning oil. In this heat, I could easily imagine a fire breaking out on the train, and I know that Clark will somehow figure out how to stop it. I am tempted to follow him and see exactly what he does, but the ticket controller appears just as I am about to stand up.

“Biglietti, per favore,” he says, barely looking at me but writing something in his semi-official looking notebook.

“Just a sec,” I murmur in frustration, trying to keep an eye on where Clark is heading as I stand in my seat to dig through my purse for my ticket. Of course, I can’t find it there, so I look in my work bag. I at last pull it out and hand it to the grumpy ticket man.

Clark reappears a moment later, looking frantic and with a smudge of soot on his face. I look behind him and see a train technician waving at Clark to come back. The man’s face is wide with astonishment and maybe just a bit of fear, and I realize that Clark has been caught doing something…super.

The man starts calling out in Italian and passengers around us suddenly take an interest in Clark and begin asking questions. The train worker is eagerly pushing towards us, and the excitement is growing in the train car as news of whatever Clark just did starts spreading.

Clark looks helplessly at me, but offers me his hand. “Do you trust me, Lois?”

I swallow, tamping down my excitement. I wonder if this is the moment I will finally learn the secrets of Clark Kent.

I eagerly reach for his hand and nod, “Of course, Clark. I trust you with my life.”

That seems to be enough for him, as he nods curtly to me and I see his jaw clench in determination.

We stand up and his arm is suddenly wrapped tight around my waist. I think I hear him whisper, “Hold on,” and we’re suddenly out of there, up and over the train and into the skies…

“Lois? …Lois. Wake up, we’re here.”

Clark is standing above me, holding out his hand to help me out of my seat. I have a momentary flashback to the dream, but realize that’s all it was — a dream.

I take his hand and he smiles at me. “I can’t believe you slept most of the way.”

“Well, I am saving up energy for Venice… I didn’t say anything in my sleep, did I?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“No, nothing you wouldn’t say to my face, Lois,” he answers with his charming smile. “Come on, we have our hotel to find.”

The train station Santa Lucia is right on the edge of Venice. We step out and it’s like we’re suddenly in a postcard, complete with gondoliers and lush Italian villas all around us. The sun is warm and bright, making the lagoon waters that surround Venice look aquamarine. Clark leads me to the ferries that serve as trams around the city.

We are crammed together like sardines with other tourists who I assume are Venetians. As an old woman bumps me with her bag, I am tossed into Clark’s chest. Finding close proximity to him more comfortable than rubbing elbows with nearby passengers, I linger there into an almost hug.

I feel his hand rest on the small of my back and feel my heart begin to palpitate at our nearness. I look over Clark’s shoulder at the view around us and can’t believe I’m standing in his arms in one of the most intriguing and beautiful cities in the world.

We get to our stop, just past the famous Rialto Bridge, a large white bridge with room for a tiny market on it. Clark pulls out a map, but looks perplexed.

“It can’t be that hard, Clark. It’s not rocket science! What street are we looking for?” I ask, snatching the map from him.

I have to admit, the map is an unhelpful tourist map, only laying out the important streets and attractions. Our hotel appears to be on a canal, which means we either have to swim, fly, or take a gondola. Since I have no inclination of getting into Venice’s murky waters, and Clark has been reluctant to share his super powers with me, the expensive gondola ride is our only option.

“Gondola, anyone?” I turn to Clark with a smile.

“Those things are too overpriced — neither one of our papers would expense it. Let me see the map again.”

He takes it back from me and I start to lose my patience. “How else can we get there?”

“Maps of Venice are notoriously inaccurate. There has never been an exact map of all of the streets in the city. Part of the charm is getting lost. Though I think we can get to our hotel this way…”

Clark takes my hand, pulling me through the labyrinth of streets, vaguely in the direction of our hotel. I’m fairly certain we’ve got turned around and are heading in the complete wrong direction, when at last we arrive at a street entrance to the hotel.

“Well, I’ll be,” I say in surprise. “Who knew you had an inner compass?”

He seems to take that as the compliment it was. “I learned how to navigate directions in boy scouts.”

I bet you did Mr. I-can-see-through-walls…

We arrive at last to our humble little room. And I mean little. There’s only one queen size bed, and it takes up practically the whole space. I try not to think about sharing that bed with Clark, but move instead to look out the window. All I can see is the building across from us and hear the low swish of gondolas passing by in the canal below us from three stories below.

I turn back to Clark and he looks at me apologetically. “This was all I could find. I’ll gladly sleep on the — ” he looks around, noting that the only furniture in the room is an armoire, a small table and two chairs. “ — the chairs. You can have the bed.”

As generous as this offer is, it’s totally impractical. The chairs are small and don’t even have arms on them. I give him a pat on the shoulder, admiring his chivalry, as I laugh, “Clark, it’s no big deal. I trust you. We’ll share the bed.”

I swear I see him gulp at this prospect and it makes me continue to giggle. Can Clark really be so innocent? All the more reason to understand his reluctance to share his secrets, I suppose, though I wish he would open up to me, even just a little.

“So, where do you think Luthor is hiding?” I ask, changing the subject from the awkward topic of the sleeping arrangements.

“Actually, he’s not hiding. He’s in plain sight,” says Clark cryptically so I ask him to elaborate.

“I, uh, heard that he’s hosting a masked ball this evening.”

Sure he heard, I think to myself. Super-style probably.

“A masked ball? Wasn’t Carnivale months ago?”

“Yeah, well, I guess it doesn’t matter when you’re a billionaire,” Clark grumbled.

“I suppose… and how did you, um, hear about this party? We only just got to Venice.”

“When we, you know…. Checked in. I overheard someone mention it,” he says quickly, and I swear he’s turning red.

I know he’s lying, though I nod. “Right… you overheard it…”

He looks at me oddly and I wonder if he knows I know… something about him. I put on a bland smile, covering the moment of awkward almost acknowledgement of his super skills. “Well, I guess that leaves us in need of a costume, right?” I say brightly.

Clark looks relieved and nods. “Yeah… so, let’s go explore the city.”

***

Exploring the city is not as easy as it sounds. The canals make navigating where you want to go pretty tricky, unless there is a bridge nearby. After some strange turns and false starts, we end up on the main street with all of the tourists swarming around us. Admittedly, we are also tourists, but I like to try to blend in at least a little.

Clark and I have fun going in and out of various shops, trying on different masks. I try on a bright yellow one, but I feel like I look like a canary… or a chicken. Clark tries on several different ones, including a Harlequin patterned one and a hilarious mask with a long nose. We both have a laugh over that one.

At last, Clark picks up a black Zorro type mask, and I suddenly have an idea. What if Clark had a secret identity? Maybe he’s been so reluctant to show anyone what he can do because he’s afraid he would lose his private life, sort of like that dream I had on the train… But if he had a disguise, he could maintain his private life and still help people.

I smile and tell him the mask is a good choice, but turn away from him as I contemplate this — and my article. My article could do more damage than good if it’s not handled properly. Maybe I should tell Clark that I know about him, that I want to help him. I don’t even have to mention my article… He has so much hero potential, yet he hides it deliberately.

Clark and I purchase our masks; mine a dark blue number with silver stars and silver and black streamers and Clark, his simple black Zorro mask.

As we walk back to our little hotel room, I grab on to Clark’s arm. “So… do you like our masks? Do you think they’ll get us in to Luthor’s party?”

“If we’re careful, I suppose so…”

I roll my eyes, “We don’t need to be careful. We need to get in!”

“I have a feeling with you, that won’t be a problem,” he sighs and I can’t help but laugh because he’s right. I’m pretty good at getting in just about anywhere.

***

Clark and I head out later that night to the Palazzo Dario, apparently a famous and cursed house in Venice, for the party.

“Why do people say it’s cursed?” I ask as we leave the hotel, the desk clerk having mentioned this bit of lore when we asked for directions.

“Well, apparently, all of the owners of it have died. But it’s beautiful and has a prominent place on the canal. And technically, Luthor doesn’t own it; he’s just borrowing it for the night,” Clark explains as we find our way to the Grand Canal.

We cross a bridge and walk leisurely along the Grand Canal until we come to the Palazzo Dario. Three tiers of arched windows are the villa’s prominent feature, and like quite a few buildings in Venice, the villa sort of lists slightly to one side. In fact, one can get seasick just walking around Venice, as water is constantly moving under and through the city and adjusting the foundations of buildings.

As we head in through the garden, Clark stops me and points to an engraving on the entranceway in Latin. “I think this may be the origin of the legend of the curse: genio urbis Joannes Dario sub ruina insidiosa genero. My Latin is a little rusty, but basically it means ‘I see Joannes Dario in insidious ruin under this city.’ Nice guy, whoever added that bit to the property.”

Actually, it gives me the creeps. I grab onto Clark’s hand and we head to the door where a line has formed for people to go in to Luthor’s party.

A man is standing there in a Turkish outfit, checking names off his list.

“Clark, I don’t think our masks are enough! We need to know who’s on that list!” I whisper to him, but he seems to have it all under control.

“Shh, Lois… I am trying to — ”

“Read lips?”I suggest for him helpfully, trying not to laugh, since he obviously has no better idea how to explain what he’s actually doing.

Clark nods vaguely in answer and then tilts his head. Though the voices are low at the front of the door and even in front of us, I’m assuming Clark can somehow tune them in. I have to admit, he sure is a handy guy to have around in a pinch.

At last it’s our turn to present ourselves to the Maitre D’. Clark gives him some Italian names and we are miraculously waved in.

I smirk a little, wanting to push the issue for him to tell me at last how exactly he does what he does, but our setting quickly distracts me. I’ve been to some fancy parties in Metropolis, but never have I seen such Old World decadence as this on display.

The ceilings are low and wooden, supported by alabaster columns. The yellow walls almost look golden in the wash of light from the chandeliers and nearby candles. I feel entirely out of my element, yet I’m enchanted by the soft colors and the sound of a string quartet playing in the other room. The windows are open, letting in a cool evening breeze from the canal. An elaborate dinner buffet is laid out in one corner of the room, manned by servants dressed in Turkish outfits.

“What’s with all the turbans?” I ask Clark, who seems to be a natural fountain of knowledge when it comes to customs and history.

“The architecture is based on Turkish styles. Luthor must be keeping with that theme.”

I nod, suddenly hearing a stir in the room. “Hey, I think our host is about to make his appearance.”

Clark looks to where I’m pointing. We are on the far side of the room, so I tug him to follow me to get a better look at Luthor. I feel confident that he won’t recognize me with my mask, though I wish I had gotten one like Clark’s that ties around the back instead of carrying mine on a stick.

“Buena sera, amici!” says the Metropolis billionaire, who doesn’t even bother wearing a mask to his own masked ball. “I’m so happy to be here in Venice with you all tonight. I missed out on Carnivale season and so, I thought we’d have a little of our own fun while I’m in town.”

People all around us applaud. I think I spot some of the pilfered jewelry on Luthor, but I can’t tell for sure. I pull Clark through the crowd to get a closer look. I notice a green gem stone that I think is the stone the opera singer in Rome mentioned. As we get closer, it suddenly glows brighter.

Clark trips at my side and I admonish him to be more careful. But when I turn to look at him, I notice he suddenly appears very ill.

“Lois… I … need to sit down,” he says, unexpectedly leaning heavily on me. He starts to feel like a stone wall about to topple on my shoulder, so I do my best to quickly pull him over to a chair.

“Clark! What’s wrong?” I ask frantically. For a guy with some kind of super powers, it seems terribly strange that he would just all of a sudden fall ill.

I feel his forehead, which though a little warm, seems nothing out of the ordinary. “I’ll be right back,” I say, stepping over a few feet to get him a glass of water.

I sit down next to him and hand him the glass. “Clark? What happened?”

“I — I don’t know,” he says, taking a sip. “I feel a little better…”

My attention is drawn back to the small dais where Luthor is standing, as he calls our collective interest to a coffer on the stage.

“Madame e uomini,” he says, clasping his hands together. “I want to share with you a treasure. An American treasure that was brought here about twenty years ago. I’ve managed to convince the Lido family to part with it, and I intend to return it to Metropolis where it belongs.”

I look anxiously back at Clark, who still looks a little pale, but seems to be doing a bit better. He looks worriedly at the box next to Luthor and I’m beginning to have a suspicion that something to do with Luthor’s box is causing Clark’s sudden illness.

Luthor laid his hand on the box in preparation of a big reveal. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present here, to this select group, a rock whose properties my scientists believe could be our next natural energy source!”

He opens the lid, revealing a large glowing green rock, and Clark suddenly collapses against me.

Luthor goes on about how the rock was previously undiscovered, and then on about some nonsense about how it has a radioactive property to it that would be perfect for clean energy, if only his team can locate the elusive mine where the rock came from. The audience is captivated by it and Mr. Luthor, but I am more concerned about how to help Clark.

I turn back to him, who even though sitting down, looks like he’s struggling to stay upright.

“Clark! Clark!” I cry to him frantically in a low voice, trying to shake him to focus on me and yet not draw attention from people nearby. “Look at me! What’s wrong?”

He starts sweating — something I’ve never seen him do! — and I worry that he is getting worse.

“Lois, you have to get me out of here… I’m… not well,” he says weakly, reaching for my hand.

“I can see that!” I say worriedly, getting more alarmed by the second. I stand him up, moving his arm so it’s wrapped around my shoulder. “Can you walk?”

He nods, and we start heading towards the balcony. Let me tell you, half-carrying a tall, superpowered man, is no easy task. It’s like he’s made of lead or something.

I move him to the far side of the room, where we can get on to the balcony that overlooks the river. I hope the fresh air will help him. I sit him down on a bench and kneel in front of him, reaching up to cup his face between my hands as I try to get him to look at me.

“What’s wrong, Clark! You have to tell me!” I say, searching his eyes.

I glance over his shoulder, and see the crowd in the room is still distracted by the glowing box of rock being discussed by Luthor. Essentially, we are alone, and as I look back at Clark, I suddenly feel the gulf between Clark and me because of his secret. I have no idea how to help him, and his stoic silence about what is wrong is sending me into a near panic.

The silence I have been keeping about what I know about him has finally gotten to me, and I feel the dam of tears start to break, worried over how to help him.

“Clark, listen to me. You can tell me what’s going on,” I begin. “I know you’re different… I — know that you’re — special. And I want to help… you have to tell me what’s wrong — ” I implore, tears beginning to clog my throat.

I look up at him, seeing the pain he’s in and how his eyes widen at my confession. “What do you know, Lois?” he asks raggedly.

“I just know that you can do things that no one else can. That — you can fly!” I say breathlessly, just saying it aloud feeling thrilling and terrifying at once. “You — you rescued my plane in Paris, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t answer, seeming to get weaker, but his head lolls to the side.

“Clark!” I cry in alarm, moving his head to look at me. “What is it that’s doing this to you?!” I blurt out in frustration.

“Lois — we have to get out of here — ” he murmurs and I nod, glad to have something to focus on, to do to help him. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and manage to swing Clark’s arm over my shoulders again.

We head back inside to the party with the intention of making a beeline to the door, when I hear a voice behind me say, “Is that Lois Lane of the Daily Planet crashing my party? Has the Planet finally found the resources to go international?” says the voice in a scoffing manner.

I freeze and manage to turn with a weakened Clark on my shoulder to face Lex Luthor. I realize I left my mask on the balcony, having been so concerned about getting Clark out of there.

“Sorry, Mr. Luthor, I couldn’t resist,” I say with a small forced smile. I hope that Luthor can’t see the tracks of my tears and doesn’t look too closely at Clark. His mask is all askew and nearly soaked through with sweat.

“My people have told me you’ve been hounding me for an interview for quite a while, Miss Lane. But sneaking into my party, all the way in Venice is a little extreme, even for you,” he says, tsk-ing at me in a condescending manner.

“Well, I, um, hope maybe we can have that interview?” I try to say gamely, though honestly my attention is much more focused on Clark, as he feels less and less stable at my side.

“What happened to your date, Miss Lane?” Luthor says, stepping towards us.

“Um, the lobster didn’t agree with him,” I say, making a move to swing Clark back towards the door. “We’ll just be leaving…”

As Luthor gets closer, Clark appears to get worse, and I notice Luthor’s green ring starts glowing. I suddenly get the connection and realize that the rocks Luthor has are poisonous to Clark!

I turn away from Luthor in the hopes that he’ll let our little intrusion pass and let me and Clark out of there with no trouble.

“Miss Lane, I would hate for word of my new energy source to hit the press before I’m ready. Can we agree that when I am ready that I will grant you the exclusive interview — but only if you don’t say a word about it beforehand?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Luthor,” I say, pleased to be offered an interview at last with the magnate, but nervous that Clark has all but collapsed on my shoulder.

Luthor steps closer to us, and pats Clark on the shoulder with his beringed hand, causing Clark to wince. “You should get dates made of stronger stuff, Miss Lane. Asabi will see you out.”

We get out of the house, and I help Clark make it over to a long stone bench in the garden. He’s still sweating a bit and breathing heavy. “Clark? You okay? Do — do you want to go to a hospital?” I ask, but as I pretty much expected, he shakes his head. Whatever his secrets are, I doubt he wants doctors prodding around them.

“No… no doctors. I’ll be… fine, I think.”

“Clark?” I say, still a bit frantic, as he won’t look me in the eye. I have no idea how that rock hurt him, but I’m worried it’s permanent or is somehow still affecting him.

“I just need a moment…” he says. I sit with him there, so many things unsaid between us. He knows I know now, and I’m terrified that as soon as he feels strong enough, he’ll disappear and never tell me the truth about himself. And I want to know not just because of my story, but because, well, I like Clark — a lot, if I’m honest. I can’t imagine what it must be like to carry the burden of his secret alone, but if he would trust me with it — well, hell, I may even kill the story, if he really wants me to! I just want him to be all right!

I sit with him on the bench, and he lies down, laying his head in my lap. I stroke his hair, taking off his mask and look down into his eyes, my own still wet with tears.

“Clark?” I ask quietly after a moment, “Do you have any idea what caused this?”

He shook his head, “I’ve never seen it before — Lois, I’ve never felt so weak, so — ill in my life.”

“Clark…”I begin brokenly. “Can you tell me… about — ?” But I can’t continue, unsure even how to phrase my question. I want to know where he got his powers, what all he can do, and why. Moreover, I want to know why he feels forced to hide it all.

He smiles weakly at me and reaches for my hand, laying it on his chest. “Lois, I’ve never told anyone about me…”

“Are you — a government experiment?” I ask and I’m relieved to see a smile on his face.

“No. No, I’m not. Honestly, I barely know myself how I do what I do.”

I puzzle over this a minute, carefully watching him. He’s breathing more normally and he’s stopped sweating, but he still seems pretty weak.

“Do you think it was that rock Luthor had?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it must be… All I know is that at the moment, I feel like I could barely hold a puppy, let alone an airplane…” he mutters.

I venture tentatively, “So it was you? In Paris?”

His eyes look up at me, the glare from the lights reflected on his glasses. I take them off, so I can see his eyes.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I whisper, stroking his hair.

“Yeah, it was me,” he answers, his eyes not meeting mine, and with a tone of defeat in his voice.

He begins to sit up and I hand him back his glasses. “I… think I’ll be okay,” he says.

The air is still around us, and only the faint sound of music is heard coming from the house. I feel like there’s so much to say to him and I hope now he’ll answer some of my questions…

Story or no, I suddenly just want to help him, to understand him. “Let’s get back to the hotel and talk. What do you say?” I ask, and he takes my hand.

***

Clark and I make it back to the hotel. He seems to get better by the moment, but he’s quiet. We don’t say a word until we reach the safety of our room.

“Clark? How do you feel?” I ask tentatively.

“Well, normal, I suppose,” he says with some confusion.

“Normal for you?” I prod.

“Well — ” he pauses a moment and pulls down the rim of his glasses, staring intently at one of our walls. Then his shoulders slump, defeated.

“What is it?” I ask, intrigued and hopeful that he’ll fill me in.

He looks at me a little embarrassedly and shrugs, “Well, normally, I can — see through things, like walls.”

So I was right!

“You can?” I say, trying not to give away that I already suspected as much. “What else can you do?”

“I — was born this way, sort of, with special abilities.” he admits. He turns to me, eyeing me carefully and I realize he’s trying to decide how much he can trust me with.

“Clark, I only want to help. To understand you,” I say, even as the article on my hard drive taunts me. What will it be, Lois? The man or the story?

His expression appears sad, and more than a little worried. “Lois, you have to understand that knowing my secret is dangerous. It’s why I — try not to stay in one place too long.”

He takes off his glasses, looking at them in his hands. “I became a reporter because it was the best way to be right on top of what’s going on in the world. I even thought of becoming a cop, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of ever having to use a gun. And I went international — ”

“ — because it was easier to stay hidden?” I suggest, and he nods.

I walk over and sit next to him, taking his hand. “Clark, what you can do — it’s amazing and — ”I hesitate.

“ — newsworthy?” he says derisively, and I cringe.

“It is — but, Clark — I promise. I won’t say anything until you’re ready,” I say, realizing that I only hope I can keep my promise. Perry is going to want to know the scoop on Clark, and the story on my computer makes me sound like a hypocrite.

“Ready?” Clark scoffs fearfully. “Lois, no one can know my story. Ever. It’s too dangerous. For my parents. And now for you.”

I see his Zorro mask on the coffee table and I reach over to pick it up. “Have you ever thought of a disguise?” I say, voicing my idea from earlier.

He shudders, “What? Like some comic book figure? No thank you!”

“But wait, Clark, think about it a second,” I say, warming to my topic. “If you had a disguise, then maybe you could stop running, settle down somewhere and have a normal life.”

He takes the mask from my hands, contemplating it. “I don’t know… I’ve hidden for most of my life. I can’t imagine stepping into the spotlight as some dressed up superhero… And besides, I first have to get my powers back…”

“Do you feel any better?” I ask with concern.

“Yeah, just like a normal guy,” he says, shrugging sheepishly.

He sits on the bed, playing with the mask and his glasses, and I can tell he simply has no desire to discuss this further with me.

I sigh and move towards getting out my pajamas.”Look, why don’t you get some sleep. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

He looks up at me with a lopsided grin. “So, I guess that means we share the bed?”

I’m relieved to see him teasing me, giving me hope that he isn’t entirely defeated. I give him a playful smile. “Sure. Just don’t try any funny business, mister!” I say teasingly, and head to the bathroom to put on my pajamas.

***

I look at myself in the mirror, thinking about what Clark had told me — or didn’t tell me. He still is secretive about how he got his abilities, and it seems that that secretiveness is stemming from a desire to protect his parents.

My stomach is in knots, thinking about what I’ve told Perry and what’s on my laptop. Can I brush it all off? Could I erase the story and tell Perry that I was wrong? Clark is such a nice guy — no matter how big a story he is — and I can’t just out him for the sake of a headline. Especially now that I know there is something out there that can hurt him. At the same time, I don’t like him skulking about in the shadows either. He has true hero potential, if he could just find a way to use his abilities and still have a private life as Clark Kent.

I’m contemplating this as I head back into the room. Clark is on his side, his eyes closed, but I’m fairly certain he’s just pretending he’s asleep.

I get in bed next to him and turn off my lamp. I resist the urge to reach out to him, to hold him. He seems so lost and alone in the world.

I lie awake restless, feeling guilty about my article. Maybe I don’t have a right to publish it, at least not until Clark is ready. I’m torn, honestly. Because I feel like if he could get a little nudge, he wouldn’t be so afraid of the spotlight. But if I print the story without him knowing, I will have betrayed his trust. I know all too well what that feels like, and I never want to cause him that kind of pain.

I’m suddenly itching to get on my laptop. I glance at the clock and see that almost twenty minutes have passed since I crawled into bed. Maybe Clark really is asleep and he won’t notice if I work on my computer.

I get out of bed in the dark, and go over to my laptop on the desk. I know the light will be bright when I turn it on, but hopefully it won’t wake Clark. And if it does, I can just tell him I’m working on a follow-up story about the strange rock we saw tonight.

I open the password-locked file and repress a sigh. This article has Pulitzer written all over it — but I simply won’t use it to destroy Clark.

I start hitting the delete key, backing up over the part that hints at C. K., the travel journalist extraordinaire being the man behind the superpowers. I read through it again, debating whether I should just delete the whole file or keep it hidden on my computer. If I ever do convince Clark to step into the spotlight —

“Hey, whatcha doing?”

Clark is suddenly in front of me and I jump, thinking he was tucked safely away in bed. I panic and hit another button, trying to close the file. But instead, I see a bar flash up on the screen that reads ‘sending.’ My story, about a super powered man who rescued a plane out of the air and saved a burning metro car, is being sent to Perry’s computer! And I can’t stop it!

“No, no, no!” I say helplessly to my screen.

“What’s the matter?” Clark asks, coming around to look at my computer screen.

“Um, nothing… just a — computer glitch,” I stall, in a panic. Can I call Perry and tell him to ignore the story? Oh, God, I know that won’t work — he’s going to want more details, a picture — he’s going to want to print it!

I feel sick to my stomach. I’ve done it. I’ve betrayed Clark. He’ll leave me, like all the others, and this time it will be entirely my fault.

“Lois? What’s the matter?” he asks, coming to stand by my shoulder as I helplessly try to cover the screen with my fingers.

“Um, it was a story about the rock we saw tonight. I didn’t mean for it to be sent yet. But… I can’t stop it,” I stammer powerlessly.

“Was it incomplete?”

“The important parts are there… but… Clark, I have to call Perry. Now. It’s imperative,” I blabber, beyond panicking.

The file finishes being sent, revealing my story again on the screen. My fingers can’t cover it enough and Clark gently removes them from the screen. He reads it over my shoulder and I just want to crawl up on the floor and die.

“I’m so sorry, Clark,” I say earnestly, feeling tears start to form, though I try to hold them back. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

I can’t turn to look at him, but I can feel that he is suddenly closed off to me. Whatever connection I had felt with him is gone — destroyed by my own careless ambition.

“I should have realized you had put the pieces together sooner,” he begins quietly. I hear pain in his voice — the pain of betrayal. “That was why you came to Rome, isn’t it? That photo you had… you knew — you knew it was me then?” he asks calmly, though with a chill to his tone that frightens me.

I force myself to turn and look at him. “Clark — please, you have to understand! It started out as a story, yes — but — ”

“But what, Lois? You needed a story and I was the perfect candidate. I understand. You wanted to get back on top and you had to use anyone you could to get there,” he says bitterly, each word stabbing a wound deeper into my heart. It hurts so much because it’s true.

“I was erasing it! I meant to erase it — and I hit the wrong button! It was all a mistake, Clark!”

“Yes, it was. I should never have trusted you, Lois,” he says, reaching for his coat. I step over to him to stop him.

“Please, don’t go! I’m going to call Perry and kill the story! I swear! You have come to mean much more to me than a story! I’m so sorry, Clark!”

“I have to go,” he mutters, stepping around me towards the door.

I feel desperate, so scared that he will walk out of my life forever. I have to make him understand!

“Clark, please! Don’t you see? What else should I have done! I saw you save our plane! Of course it was a story! A huge story!” I cry desperately. ”And I only made the connection that it was you when I saw you in the Paris Métro! That was after we met! I didn’t know what to do! I — ”

He points an accusatory finger at my word processor, his voice shaking as he speaks, “You’ve had that story on your computer longer than that. If you — if you cared at all, you would have killed the story when we were still in Paris, Lois. You followed me to Rome for the story!”

I feel defeated, knowing he’s right. I only had the story on my mind at that point. It wasn’t until the other night, when we kissed and shared the opera together that I realized that I was falling for him.

“Clark, please! I will do everything I can to kill the story — but if Perry insists on publishing it — ” I take a deep breath. I know how this will sound, but I think it could be the only option — and the only chance I may have of seeing him again. “I can tell your story how you want it to be told, Clark. I’m sorry to have — betrayed you like this, but please, if it goes to print, let me help.”

“Right, so you can go win your Pulitzer?” he says sarcastically, cutting me to the quick. “I’m sorry, Lois, but it’s over. Whatever it was… Good-bye,” Clark, full of hurt, moves to the door as he speaks, slamming it behind him.

I crumple to the floor, feeling more devastated than I have at any point in my life. I blew it, in so many ways. Clark could have been The One, and I was too blinded by my own pain and circumstance to see it.

And I may have just lost him forever.

***

Tears stream down my face as I struggle to stand up, shaken. I walk over to the phone, my nerves making my struggle with the dialing codes and Italian operators worse than normal, but at last I make a connection through to the Planet.

“It’s Lois Lane. I need to speak to Perry White immediately!” I say forcefully, wiping the tears off my cheeks with a tissue.

I’m put on hold for a moment, but then the connection is lost. In frustration I slam down the phone again and redial, with a little more success this time.

“I was disconnected. Lois Lane for Perry White. Please hurry!” I say to the Daily Planet operator in near panic. All I can think of is Clark leaving, to go God knows where, never to be seen or heard from again. At least not by me. I’ve lost him! I’ve lost him forever!

“Lois?”

“Hi, Perry. Yes, it’s me. Did you just get my article?” I ask frantically, hearing the strain in my voice.

“I sure did, but Lois, honey, it’s a little far-fetched don’t you think? I mean, I know you were almost in a plane crash, and we heard about the fire in the metro. These incidents obviously happened — They have even baffled experts on both sides of the ocean… But Lois, I simply can’t print it as is.”

Relief fills me and I close my eyes, blessing Perry for having a cool head. I guess it’s true that he didn’t become editor of a major metropolitan newspaper because he can yodel. It takes me a moment to come back to the conversation as I struggle to calm down, and I ask Perry to repeat what he said.

“It could be a story — there’s obviously something going on over there, but Lois. I need more proof. Now, what have you got on this Kent fellow you’ve been writing with? You said something about a story there?”

I quickly gather my thoughts, as I have to make sure that no matter what, Perry does not make the connection between my story and Clark Kent. “It was nothing… just my overzealous reporter’s instincts kicking in,” I laugh nervously into the phone. Tears constrict my throat as I think of Clark. I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again. I almost mention Clark’s desire to someday work at the Planet to Perry, but my doubt of ever seeing him again stops me. I don’t know if he’d even accept an offer to work at the Planet now.

“Lois, from the first day you came into my office I knew you had a good nose for a story. Now you’ve got two leads that haven’t amounted to a hill of beans. Is everything all right?”

The concern I hear in Perry’s voice is almost my undoing. But I have to pull it together and let him know that I still have what it takes to be his top reporter. Lois Lane may be down, but she’s certainly not out.

“That jewel heist story I sent the other day — I have a follow-up on that,” I say quickly, reminding him. I suddenly get a little excited again as I think back to the party. I was so distracted with Clark’s reaction to the rock that I had almost forgotten about Luthor! “Get this… I got into a party tonight and none other than Lex Luthor was the host! He’s peddling this green mineral he found as the next clean energy source. But I’m not so sure about how he wants to use it. He wanted it hush-hush, which seems a little suspicious to me.”

“Luthor, huh? Didn’t you tell me a few months ago you thought he might not be all that he appears?”

“Exactly… so… I will do a follow-up on that.”

“Sounds good. Keep me posted, Lois. And stay out of trouble!”

“Thanks, Chief,” I say affectionately and hang up the phone.

I sit quietly for a moment, thankful that I at least know that the story won’t go to print. But I still lost Clark. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, but at least his secret will be safe.

I sigh, looking out the window, up at the moonlit sky. An incredible loneliness sweeps over me as I realize I’m back to square one.

Only now, my heart isn’t just broken… it’s shattered.

***

I don’t know how long I sat on the floor wallowing in self-pity, but when I look up again I see that it’s almost one in the morning. I should feel some measure of relief that the story won’t go to print, only all I can picture is the hurt look on Clark’s face when he left the hotel.

I lie down in bed and close my eyes, and still see it. I had put the story before the man and even though I realized it, it was still too late to keep from losing him.

I turn over on my pillow, trying to get comfortable but it’s no use. I’m exhausted, but can’t fall asleep. All I can feel is the empty heartache, knowing that Clark is gone for good.

I glance at my clock and see it’s after 2 AM… I’ll never get any sleep now.

As I toss and turn in bed, my thoughts go back to the party this evening, and the rock that had hurt Clark. What exactly was Lex Luthor doing with it? And why would he want to use it for energy when it obviously has properties that affect some people? Granted, Clark is a special case, but still — that rock seems to have dangerous powers that can’t necessarily be good for the environment.

In frustration, I kick off the covers. I can’t do anything about getting Clark back, but maybe I can help him in some small way by somehow stopping Luthor from using that rock in his new pet project. It at least gives me something to do — and may keep me from going crazy over how to win Clark’s trust back… if I ever see him again.

I get dressed and head out into the quiet streets of Venice. The narrow alleys and passages are all well-lit, but oddly empty. I’m so used to Metropolis where there are always people in the streets at all hours of the day and night, that this emptiness creeps me out a bit. I don’t have Clark’s sense of direction, but luckily there are signs that point to the main streets and to the main canal. I decide to head to the Grand Canal, mainly so I can more easily find my way back to Luthor’s villa, but also to get out of the deserted streets.

A few blocks from the villa, I hear what sounds like a fistfight coming from straight ahead. I’d rather not venture into the lonely back streets of the city, so instead, I make my way closer to where they are fighting. I stick to the shadows so I won’t be seen or heard. Two men are standing in a small square, throwing punches at a third man. I mostly see only shadows, as there is only one streetlamp in the far corner of the square. I hope I can sneak by without them noticing me, so intent are they on pummeling their victim.

“Where’s Lois Lane? We know you were with her tonight,” I hear, and stop in my tracks. I back up into one corner the square, crouching by an ancient well, and focus all my attention on what’s going on. Cold realization knifes through me. They have Clark!

“Mr. Luthor doesn’t take kindly to reporters snooping around in his business. We want to know what she told you. If she prints what she saw tonight — ” said the man ominously.

“I told you… I don’t know anything,” Clark says weakly and I feel surprise and gratitude that he is trying to protect me, especially after what I did.

The men punch him again, and I hope that Clark will somehow regain his strength quickly to fend them off. He throws a couple of good punches, but I wince as one fist locks with his jaw. I watch from the shadows, tempted to even up the odds in Clark’s favor a bit, but suddenly I see another figure step out of the shadows that stops me from making my presence known. It’s Lex Luthor. His green gemstone ring blinks wickedly in the yellow streetlight.

“Gentlemen, we’ll find Miss Lane. This one is obviously no more use to us. Get rid of him,” he says in a chilling voice that at once confirms my suspicions about the billionaire’s character.

Clark, who now is lying on his side, bleeding and out of breath, seems relieved they have stopped. Yet I see the two goons come up behind him a few seconds later with a rope and tie his hands behind his back and his feet. What are they going to do to him? I am prepared to follow wherever they take him, yet I watch in horror as the two goons lift Clark and swing him into the canal!

Clark’s name comes out of my mouth in a gasp. The goons quickly leave with Luthor and I rush to the side of the canal. The water is murky and God knows how deep, yet I can see air bubbles coming to the surface.

I look around, looking for something or someone to help. There is no one, and Clark’s only chance is me! I kick off my tennis shoes and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to think of the scariness of diving in such stagnant city waters. Instead, I think of Clark, who has been selflessly saving people for who knows how long. I think of Clark, giving me the best kiss of my life after the opera. I think of how I’ve come to quickly rely on his companionship — and how quickly I shattered his trust with my story.

I dive in; the waters are much colder than I expected. I feel around in the dark, trying to locate him with my both my hands and feet. I can’t find him. I come back up for air in frustration and try to see if the lights of the city can help me out at all. Not seeing anything below the surface, I take another deep breath, thanking my parents for scuba lessons when I was fifteen. I dive back in, reaching as low as I can.

I open my eyes under water for a mere second, catching at last a glimpse of Clark’s white shirt. My lungs are burning for air, though I reach one inch further and grab onto his shirt. He’s heavy as a stone, but he seems cognizant as I feel his arm reach for my hand. I pull, and I feel him struggle. I can’t hold my breath any longer though, and quickly go up to the surface for more air.

He’s still down there, alive, and struggling! I take another breath, determined that I will get him in the next dive. He seems ready for me this time, as he grabs onto me when I reach him. But he pulls us both down lower. I start struggling, wondering what’s happening. But just as quickly, we’re rocketing to the surface, up and out of the water, and land, side by side on the sidewalk of the canal.

I cough water out of my lungs and turn to Clark. He’s lying on his back, his glasses gone, and his eyes closed. His hands are unbound, but his feet are still tied. I reach over and untie them, then move to check his vitals.

“Clark!” I cry fearfully, and roll him over to put my ear to his chest. My body feels heavy from the strain of diving in the cold waters, and I’m shivering, but I can’t worry about that yet. I need to make sure Clark is all right.

As I lean on his chest, I realize he’s not breathing! I put my ear to his chest, desperate to hear a heartbeat. I know he somehow jumped or flew us out of the water, so I know he’s alive, but I don’t know by how much. I start pumping on his chest, like I’ve seen medics do. I don’t have any actual CPR training, and I hope that whatever makes him super will help him survive me pounding on his chest. I plug his nose and blow into his mouth, resuming pumping on his chest at where I hope is the right spot. At last, he gasps and turns on his side, coughing up whatever water is in his lungs.

“Clark!” I say through tears, throwing my arms around him. “You made it!”

His arm comes around me and we both sit up, waterlogged, cold, and bedraggled. We look out at the dark canal for a long moment, contemplating what had just happened.

“You — you saved me, Lois,” he says with incredulity, his voice thick from the waters or tears. I can’t tell which.

“Of course I did. Clark, I’m so sorry — I — ”I can’t get out anything more coherent after that, as I suddenly fall into helpless sobs.”I never meant to — hurt you, Clark. I was so blind — stupid — Claude made me so angry — I — ” I went on and on, blubbering like a baby. But I had to pull myself together; he had to know that I had talked to Perry, that his secret wouldn’t be revealed.

“Clark — I killed the story. Or rather, Perry killed it,” I admit. “He said there wasn’t enough evidence in the article and he’s right. You don’t have to worry, Clark. No one will know about you, unless you want them to know. I’m so sorry… so sorry, Clark,” I say, my eyes grimy with the water from the canal and my own salty tears. It wasn’t until after I stopped talking that I realized Clark had managed to pull me into his arms at some point.

“It’s okay. It will be okay,” he murmurs in my ear, an undeserving balm to my betrayal.

We are quiet a moment, until Clark breaks the silence, his voice distant and sad, “I — almost let them kill me, Lois. Or at least I didn’t stop them from doing their worst,” he says and I look at him in shock.

“Why would you do such a thing?” I ask in horror, cupping his cheek to bring his face around to mine.

“I thought — it’s all over. My secret. I thought… that you didn’t really care about me. When they threw me in the canal and I got away from that ring Luthor wore, I finally thought of my parents. That’s when I started to try and get out of the ropes. I thought I had to get back to them and protect them from the fallout of your article… And then I would disappear…” He turns to me, his eyes full of a cautious gratitude, “But it wasn’t until I saw you diving into those waters to save me that I began to hope again.”

I reach around and hug him again. “Look, I know we’ve only known each other a few days… but Clark — I wouldn’t dive into those icky waters for just anybody,” I say, my voice trembling between laughter and tears. “I am so sorry that I betrayed you. I did get caught up in my own story — but you” — I sigh, shaken by the emotion of the night. “You took my breath away and I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

My arms wrap around his neck and we lean in, forehead to forehead. “I don’t know where we go from here. But — can you give me a second chance?” I ask tentatively, looking into his soft brown eyes for any sign that he can forgive me.

He suddenly leans in further, and our lips meet. Passion and relief soar through my core, and I feel like I can’t get enough of him. Our kiss grows deeper and more ardent, as his fears and my insecurities melt away in the wave of a burgeoning love that washes over us. I realize how deep I’ve fallen for him — I’m terrified, yet I trust it, as I trust him. His arms wrap tighter around me, and my fingers feel the corded muscles of his neck, his whole being welcoming me home.

Clark manages to stand up, carrying me in his arms as he makes our way back to the hotel.

My tears continue to fall, as I feel my heart at last letting him in and acknowledging the things I did wrong. Despite my mistakes and despite his weakness, Clark is still strong enough to carry me — and all of my baggage.

And all I want is to help him carry his.

***

I start shivering the moment we step into the hotel. The waters were much colder than I had expected, though Clark seems to be doing fine.

We say little to each other on the way back, though I think an unspoken understanding lies between us now. I know he tried to protect me from Lex’s goons, and he knows that I risked my life to save his. It doesn’t make up for what I did, but I hope it’s a start, a bridge to earning back his trust.

I quietly excuse myself to the bathroom and take a hot shower. More tears spring to my eyes, and I’m not at all certain why. I guess I was so afraid I had lost Clark because of that stupid article, and then I almost really lost him! But he’s here, safe and sound, and I can only hope that he will let me help him now.

When I come back in the room, Clark passes by me with a small smile and goes to take his own shower. There is a tension in the room that feels unresolved, and I know Clark is still worried about something. I brush out my hair and put on my pajamas, waiting for him to return to the little room.

He comes in a few moments later, wearing sleep pants and a black t-shirt. My mouth waters just looking at him; he is a beautiful man, but I’m also learning he has a gracious heart. I sit down next to him on the bed and touch his shoulder. “What is it, Clark?”

“Lois, even though your article wasn’t printed — it’s still out there, in your editor’s hands. I read it, and though the trail doesn’t lead directly back to me,” he sighs heavily and I feel the burden of my actions weigh on my shoulders. “I just worry what would happen if the truth ever did get out. I worry about my parents. What would happen to them…”

“Why? Because they have a hero for a son?” I say encouragingly, still not understanding his desire to hide from the world. “Clark — I would think they would be proud of you, for stepping into the spotlight — ”

He pulls away from me, and walks over to the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Lois, you don’t understand… I am not some government experiment — I — ” he looks at me expectantly, yet holds back. “I can’t tell you.”

I wince at this, wanting more than anything for him to trust me again. “Clark, I won’t say anything unless you want me to, I promise. Clark, I want to know about you, because I want to know you. Not for a story, just because — you’re the greatest guy I’ve ever met,” I say simply, my heart on my sleeve. He’s already exposed his weak points to me, the least I can do is try to be honest with him from here on out.

He runs his hand through his hair and glances at the clock.

“I can’t explain everything here, Lois… and not now… I feel better, like the effects of that rock may not be permanent, but — can you just let it all drop for now?”

He looks so tired and uncertain. I nod and make my way over to my side of the bed.

I get under the covers and turn to face him. His eyes watch me. I can see affection in them, but also wariness. I think he wants to believe in me, but I have hurt him. I’m exhausted and more tears come to my own eyes, so emotionally spent. Clark reaches to turn out the light and then quietly whispers, “Come here.”

I gladly move into his embrace, a situation that only a few hours ago I thought would be impossible. I don’t know what it is that draws us to each other, but it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced. The hard-bitten reporter in me is mute with awe; she would have never expected this turn of events.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, barely even realizing I’m saying it until I feel the gentle squeeze of Clark’s arms in response.

I still feel so cold from the water, but I realize that I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant having this moment with Clark. The feelings I have for him terrify me — because even though I trust him implicitly, I worry that he feels he might never be able to trust me again.

“You’re shivering, Lois,” he says with gentle alarm in my ear.

He rubs his hand up and down my arms, starting a different kind of shiver in my body. I sink deeper into his arms and I begin to feel a little warmer. There’s no demand from him, as I would expect from other men. There’s only comfortable rightness, a sense of peace, despite all of the questions and doubts between us. We lay like this for what seems forever, or maybe it is just for a moment.

But the security and consolation I find here, in Clark’s arms, I want to hold onto forever.

***

I wake up to warm sunshine on my face. I reach across the bed, but Clark isn’t there. Panic hits me a moment until I open my eyes fully and see him by the window looking out at the canal. The sun is shining on his perfect bare chest, and I relive a delicious memory of pillowing myself on that bit of perfection last night.

I suddenly sneeze and shiver a bit, realizing I must have caught a cold during our watery excursion.

My sneeze catches Clark’s attention. “Bless you,” he says, handing me a tissue.

“Thanks,” I say, taking it.

I lay back in the bed, my head starting to pound. I feel a bit miserable actually… which makes me ask, “How do you feel?”

He looks at me with a boyish smile, his hands on his hips. “Actually, I feel — super.”

“Does that mean you have your powers back?”

He nods. “Yeah, I do… But Lois, you — you don’t look so well,” he says in some sympathy.

“I’m freezing,” I say, secretly hoping he’ll come back to bed and warm me up.

“I can help with that,” he answers with a grin that tells me he gets my drift.

But instead of crawling into bed with me as I expect, he stands over me and asks me to lie still. Puzzled, but game to whatever he has planned, I wait a moment, watching him. He seems a little hesitant, embarrassed even, when suddenly, the comforter feels warm and toasty. I look questioningly at him.

He points to his eyes, giving me a shy smile. “Heat vision.”

“Really,” I say in awe, naughtily thinking of how that little trick could be used in other ways…

He brushes it off with a shrug before I can question it further. I’m glad he feels like he can trust me with showing me his special skill, yet I can tell he’s not ready to explain it all to me yet. “Look, you need to rest… But we can’t stay here in Venice. Luthor is looking for you. I thought we might go to the Mediterranean for a bit.”

“I really don’t want another train ride, Clark. And getting on a plane when you’re sick — ” I complain, already even dreading moving from this lovely toasted comforter.

He looks at me like he’s cooking up a plot and I’m suddenly intrigued. “What is it?” I ask, loving that he looks so playful.

“Well, how would you feel… about flying — with me?”

***

Clark and I stand in the tiny alley behind the hotel. The roofs are so dense in this part of Venice that it would be highly unlikely that anyone will see us taking off. Our bags are packed and he tells me to wait a moment. In a swoosh of air the bags are gone and so is Clark. I look up in the sky, but all I see is the glare of the sun, and maybe a speck of something that could be Clark, but anyone just looking up would think it’s a very large bird… or a very tiny plane. I’m not left to wait for him for long, though, and within moments, Clark is back by my side.

I feel my heart beat with anticipation. I don’t care if I have a slight cold. All I can focus on is being seconds away from flying in the arms of the man of my dreams. The man of my most impossible, improbable, out there dreams!

He scoops me up in his arms, my legs dangling over his left arm, as his right cradles my back. I wrap my arms around his neck, breathing in his clean shirt and his own particular scent that makes my toes curl.

He whispers, “Ready?” I nod, excitement pouring through my veins. We suddenly move straight up and above Venice, the rooftops looking like a patchwork quilt of browns below us. I hold on tighter to Clark as we sweep towards the Mediterranean, my heart in my throat at the view, and overwhelmed by the amazing man who has stolen my heart.

We fly over the Tuscan hills of Italy, rolling green hills peppered with tall spiky trees, peculiar to the area. It’s not long before we see the Mediterranean Sea itself, spread out in all of its glory below us. This far north, the sea is a crystalline aquamarine that changes in the light between green and cobalt blue. We sweep past Nice and Monte Carlo, shimmering jewel-like cities on the coast.

But the scenery only holds my attention part of the time. Because flying with Clark Kent is… wow. I thought I loved flying before, but this trip is spoiling me for any future travels in an airplane. Give me CK-Express, all the way!

Soon we slow down and I ask Clark where we are.

“Marseilles. It’s the oldest port town in France.”

As we come into land on a hillside, the afternoon sun shines golden on the mauve, pink, and sandstone city. The hundreds of sailboats in the harbor are surrounded by the city itself, a haven for sailors for centuries.

When we finally touch ground, I’m reluctant to leave Clark’s arms. I cling to his neck. Wanting to show him in some way what he just shared means to me, I smile and kiss him chastely on the cheek. “That was…wow,” I say stupidly, hearing how lame it sounds even to my ears. But the wordsmith in me is simply too gob-smacked to come out with anything more coherent.

He smiles charmingly in return and gently sets my feet on the earth. I’m a little unsteady and I hold on to his arm a moment longer.

“It’s all right, Lois. You can lean on me,” he says gallantly, and I take his arm as we turn towards the city.

***

We wander aimlessly through Marseilles for the rest of the afternoon, trying to put both my mistake and Clark’s secret out of our minds. I think we both realize that we need some time just getting to know each other. As much as I don’t want to jump into a relationship and while I’m sure Clark is trying to figure out just how much he can trust me, there is definitely something between us that can’t be ignored. But nothing is going to move forward until we can be completely honest with each other. Even I — the queen of federal disaster relationships — can admit that. As for Clark, I think he’s been alone for such a long time, that he has no idea how to open up about himself — or at least open up about his super side.

Throughout the afternoon, he avoids any reference to what happened at Luthor’s party or with my article, and instead regales me with stories of growing up on a farm. Before meeting Clark, I would have chalked up this topic to being an automatic snooze fest. However, I find his quaint life in Smallville surprisingly endearing. He tells me about his parents, who sound kind and supportive — the very opposite of my dysfunctional family. And although his parents seemed to be the ones to instill in him a sense of responsibility about his powers, they also raised him with an underlying fear. And while I give the Kents kudos for raising such an amazing son, I want more than anything to take the fear about sharing his powers away from him. I wish I knew what the key was to getting him to step out of the shadows and into the light. The world needs a hero like Clark Kent.

“Tell me about yourself, Lois,” he asks me now, having told me everything fit to print about the Kents and his life in Smallville.

“Well, I grew up in Metropolis… I have a younger sister, Lucy… and I went to Met U for journalism. As for all the details in between — ”I hesitate. Not because I don’t want him to know more about me, but I’m afraid that he just won’t understand. That compared to his perfect childhood in Smallville, I’ll look sad and pathetic, and I don’t wear those attributes well.

“Lois, you can tell me. No judgment. Honest,” he smiles and squeezes my hand gently.

“Well, my ‘home’ — if you can call it that — was not full of farm chores and home cooked meals around the dinner table, talking about your day,” I begin, the coziness of the Kent farm still fresh in my mind from Clark’s description. “At my house, Mother would often be sitting in the lounge chair getting drunk, while Daddy burned steaks on the barbeque, trying to explain why he was kissing Mrs. Belcanto in the church parking lot…” I say in a painful rush, thinking back to those strained years of my youth before my parents finally gave up the pretense and got a divorce.

“Oh, Lois… I’m so sorry,” Clark responds, his tone sincere. Usually when I admit to guys about my family’s sordid past, they are either turned off entirely or full of pity. I don’t sense that Clark pities me, just that he understands and accepts me.

His open heart prompts me to go on, telling Clark more about myself than I have ever told anyone. “‘Trust’ was never in my family’s vocabulary. So I sort of grew up assuming everyone had a secret, which is what lead me to journalism. I wanted to uncover the truth and deliver justice in a way that had always been denied to me,” I admit bluntly.

But seeing the look of almost horror on Clark’s face I try to explain why it’s different with him. “But Clark, since I’ve met you, I’ve realized that sometimes a secret can be a necessary thing, even if it doesn’t make sense,” my tone softens as I stop in the street and turn to face him. “You know, you were right before. I had been only after your story, your secret because I thought as a journalist, the world has a right to know — but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I realize that sometimes it’s not uncovering the hidden secret that matters. It’s getting to know who a person is because you like that person, even when they have a secret. Clark, there’s something about you that just makes sense to me. So I’m willing to trust that you have a secret for a reason, and I promise I won’t pry,” I finish, looking up at him earnestly.

Clark cups my cheek in his hand, his soft brown eyes searching mine. I feel so vulnerable and yet entirely safe when he looks at me like that.

“Thanks, Lois,” he says softly. “I promise, when I’m ready — you’ll know all of my secrets,” he assures me as we resume our walk.

I ruminate over this a moment, still frustrated that he won’t fill me in on details about himself just yet, so I try another tactic. “Why did you leave, though? If Smallville was so wonderful, why get a job with the faraway Borneo Gazette?” I can’t help probing. “Call it the reporter in me, but I really want to know,” I jab his arm playfully.

He lets out a big puff of air as if preparing himself for something and pulls us off the main street so we can talk in semi-privacy. “Lois, you know some of the things I can do — ” Some? What else can he do? ”People in small towns talk. I left before people could get suspicious of me or my parents. And besides, I do feel it’s my obligation to help where I can. Only it gets complicated — especially when I get nosy reporters on my trail,” he says crossing his arms, though his playful tone belies the sharp words.

“I guess I deserved that,” I mutter.

He punctuates his statements with hand gestures. “But you do see my point? Lois, I’m willing to forgive you because I do know what it’s like to be a reporter and to feel the need to chase down a story.” He looks at me earnestly, moving closer to me. “But, can you understand why I don’t want mine splashed all over the news?”

“But Clark, that’s my point! It doesn’t have to be Clark Kent’s name in the headline. I keep telling you that you need a disguise — then you could have a private life and maybe — ” I stop myself, unable to say what I really want to say.

“And maybe what, Lois?” he asks softly, and I wonder if mind reading is one of his super skills.

I glance away from him, totally undone by the look of encouragement in his soft brown eyes. “And maybe you could settle down… in Metropolis. Look, I’m sure Perry would hire you,” I assure him, meanwhile mentally backpedaling on how I could introduce Clark to Perry without raising my editor’s suspicions about what Clark really can do.

“It sounds like a dream, Lois. But I need to be out there, helping people where and when I can. And trust me, it’s better if I keep moving from place to place. Even if I find a place where I’d rather be…”

He looks so sad and lonely when he says this, yet I don’t see why he won’t give my idea a try. I’m so sure Clark could pull off wearing a costume and keep his personal life… Besides, with that body in spandex, who would be looking at his face?

***

“How about a trip over to Chateau D’If?” Clark suggests a little later after walking around the harbor.

“Okay… what is it exactly?” I ask, as usual, completely oblivious to many of the historical landmarks in the cities I visit.

“It used to be a prison. It was also the inspiration for ‘The Count of Monte Cristo,’ after an infamous prison break,” he says, but I look at him blankly.

“Is that like the Three Musketeers?” I ask, trying to catch the reference.

He nods with an indulgent smile in my direction. “Close. At least written by the same guy.”

Clark must see my slightly lost expression because he quickly adds, “But I also hear there are great views of the Mediterranean from there.”

“Better than from above it?” I half-whisper with a giggle. “I don’t think anything will top that, Clark. Ever.”

He looks at me with a pleased smile and then leads us over to the ticket counter for the boat trip to the chateau.

The hum of the motor makes it difficult to talk as we cross the inlet, but I enjoy the trek all the same. I love the wind in my hair and the crisp smell of the sea, as it reminds me of my earlier flight in Clark’s arms. Speaking of Clark, he comes up behind me, wrapping his arm loosely around my waist. We look out across the horizon, admiring the deep blue of the water and the contrasting jagged sandstone cliffs that make up the island where the chateau is located.

At last, we are let off the boat onto the tiny island. Clark and I walk hand in hand up a hill to the chateau itself. We wander around the outer wall, admiring the view of the sea, and Clark points out various landmarks across the way sprinkled around Marseilles. He then rambles on about more of the history and lore surrounding Chateau D’If, but I ignore most of what he says and just take in the beauty around us, wishing I had my camera.

We wander back into what Clark tells me is the main ‘keep,’ which to me seems just to mean the main building. It’s about four stories tall, square in shape, with an open roof. Each level has several prison cells, and the open format makes it possible to see all the levels above and below.

As we walk back in at the top level, a boy about six or seven is playing on the railing. His parents have their backs turned to him and I roll my eyes at the carelessness of parents on vacation. But suddenly, the boy pulls himself up to nearly stand on top of the railing. I glance at Clark, and almost in the same moment, I see the boy slip and tumble over the side.

“Clark!” My call comes strangled out of my mouth, as I know he’s the only one who can do anything to save the boy in time. Sure enough, quicker than I can blink, the boy is in Clark’s arms as he sets him gently back onto the ground.

The parents turn around just then, and the boy, though flabbergasted at having been rescued by a man who can fly, immediately begins telling his parents what happened.

“I just pulled you back from the rail, son,” Clark explains, giving the boy’s parents an expression that says you know how kids exaggerate.

The British tourists look puzzled, especially as their son continues to babble on about the man who can fly. Clark plasters on a smile and then looks at me helplessly. He quickly says his good-byes and comes to my side, taking my arm.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles, and he ushers us away before any more questions can be asked.

***

“Clark, look, that was a perfect example why you need a disguise!” I say when we get back to the hotel room.

“No, that’s exactly why I need to stay hidden. Don’t you see? If people start realizing that a man exists who can fly and is invulnerable, has super speed, and can hear long distances — ” he shakes his head in frustration. “I’ll never be left alone!”

My mouth drops at the list of powers he just names, but I quickly cover my shock and move to sit next to him, hoping he’ll see my point.

“Clark, that’s exactly why you should become a public hero! And if what you say about superspeed is true, then you should have no trouble getting in and out of a disguise lickety-split!”

He looks at me helplessly and then shakes his head, burying it in his hands. “Lois, it will never work…”

“Will you at least think about it?”

His eyes turn to me, incredulous, like he can’t believe how pushy I’m being. But I can’t and I won’t relent. First, for him — so he doesn’t have to hide what he can do… and maybe, for me as well. Because if he had a secret persona, then maybe he would be inclined to stay in one place. Maybe — he could work at the Planet with me… and we’d see where things go.

“Lois… I think you mean well, but you just don’t understand. My parents raised me to hide these abilities. Otherwise, I could end up in a lab somewhere, being dissected like a frog. If they knew — ” he says ominously.

I cross my arms in exasperation, not understanding why when he has all these abilities he’s so terrified of showing them to the world. “Knew what, Clark? What is so horrible about being able to help people that you feel the need to hide?”

His brown eyes bore into mine, full of doubt and fear. But then he suddenly looks resigned and he lets out a long sigh. “I think the only way I can convince you that this is just foolish is to take you to meet my parents. Maybe they can talk some sense into you.”

***

After a long flight in Clark’s arms, we finally land at the Kent farm. I’m a little sleepy, having dozed off several times during the long if rather comfortable flight. Clark sets me on my feet and I stumble a bit. I grab onto his shoulder as I smile up at him, “It will take me a second to get my land legs back.”

He smiles in return and gently rubs my shoulder. “Take your time.”

After a moment, I finally turn to take in the scenery around us. We’re definitely back in America, as I notice the rambling old farmhouse set amid a golden field of wheat in front of us. As we walk up the porch, there is an immediate sense of hominess here that makes me understand a little bit about why Clark feels so strongly about protecting it.

“Mom?” he calls as we enter.

A petite blonde woman comes rushing over to us, a grin on her face. “Clark! I’m so glad to see you! I didn’t think we’d get a visit for another month!”

He hides it quickly, but I see a trace of guilt on Clark’s face. He’s been busy traveling the world… and trying to save it.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet — ”

“Lois Lane,” I jump in, reaching to shake her hand.

Mrs. Kent looks back at Clark and then at me again with a puzzled expression, and Clark looks a little embarrassed.

“We met in Paris,” Clark sort of explains.

Mrs. Kent’s smile widens and she gives Clark a little wink. He rolls his eyes and then quickly changes the subject.

“Is it all right if Lois and I stay for supper? There’s something we’d like to talk to you and Dad about.”

“Of course, honey,” Clark’s mom answers, though she gives me a curious look. “Your father will be back in about an hour. Dinner will be ready shortly after.”

***

The Kent farmhouse is a far cry from the cute cafes and restaurants in Europe, but part of me likes it here better as I’m quickly charmed by the cozy atmosphere. I watch in awe as Mrs. Kent cooks up dinner, and though I try to help, she promptly sees that I have no skill in the kitchen and sends me to help Clark set the table.

“It’s a really nice home here,” I say, coming up next to him as he lays out the forks and knives.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it,” he responds with an easy smile.

Just then, the front door opens and a man who I assume is Clark’s father enters the house. Mrs. Kent comes marching in and helps her husband with his coat.

“Jonathan, I told you to leave those boots on the porch. They track too much mud in here,” she admonishes, though she reaches up to give her husband a kiss.

“Oh, I forgot, Martha,” Clark’s dad says as he steps back on the porch to shed his boots.

When he comes back in, Martha gives him a beaming smile. “Dinner’s almost ready… And Clark’s brought a girlfriend,” she stage whispers with a grin, but both Clark and I hear her clearly.

“Clark? It’s been a while, son. That Borneo newspaper keeping you busy?” Mr. Kent says, coming over to give Clark a hug.

Clark brushes off the light reproach and turns to me. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Lois Lane. She’s also a reporter. For the Daily Planet.”

I shake Jonathan’s hand and can’t help but feel happy if not surprised at the note of admiration in Clark’s voice.

“Dinner’s ready!” Martha calls and we all head to our respective seats.

***

After dallying with small talk for the first half of dinner, Martha and Jonathan can’t contain their curiosity any longer and ask us how we met. Clark and I exchange glances and give them a watered-down version that does not include me chasing him down for a story or my near printing of said story.

I, however, casually mention flying to Marseilles and Clark’s parents exchange looks of worry.

Clark jumps in, “I’ve told her about my abilities, Mom and Dad. It’s okay.”

They don’t look convinced, so I chime in, “Honestly, I think it’s wonderful what Clark can do.”

“Just please, don’t print anything in the Daily Planet about our son,” says Jonathan fearfully.

I feel my cheeks flush with shame thinking of the near miss, but Clark covers my hand in his, encouraging me.

“I’m not planning to, not without his permission,” I clarify. “But — I do have an idea that I think would bring Clark back to the States on a more permanent basis and make it much easier for him to help people.”

I hear Clark sigh in resignation, knowing I’m determined to bring up the costume idea, but his parents lean in with curious looks on their faces. They obviously would love to have their son closer to home.

I take a deep breath, knowing this is my big sell. I have to get them persuaded to my side, so perhaps they’ll persuade Clark. “I think that if Clark had a disguise of some kind, he could rescue people in another persona, meanwhile retaining a personal life as Clark Kent.”

All three Kents exchange looks of uncertainty, but I push ahead. “All I’m saying is that Clark will help people no matter what he’s wearing because that’s who he is. But if he could do it in a disguise, I think he could be so much more.” I glance at Clark, who I notice has found another pair of glasses at some point since we arrived at the farmhouse. “I think Clark could be a symbol for goodness, for hope. People need him… And meanwhile, he could also live as normal a life as possible as himself…”

The dinner table was quiet a moment. I look down at my plate, certain I’ve lost my case. But then I hear Martha clasp her hands together and when I look up, she’s beaming.

“I think it’s a great idea, Lois. I’ve believed for years that Clark had his abilities for a reason. And I could certainly sew something for him…”

“Mom — ” Clark groans.

“We should at least try, honey,” Martha says, glancing between me and Clark as she gives me a reassuring smile.

“But won’t people recognize our boy? Won’t they wonder who and what he is?” asks Jonathan a bit pessimistically.

I wonder about the ‘what’ in his question but Martha quickly answers with a laugh. “Jonathan, I think Lois has a point. And besides, if we put Clark in some brightly colored spandex suit, I hardly think people are going to be looking at his face!”

I smile back at her, happy that she sees my point. The men at the table groan with uncertainty, but I think with Martha Kent on my side, I have won the battle.

***

Clark left me with his parents while he flew back to Marseilles to get our things. We plan to stay in Smallville at least a few days to get Clark into a costume, and according to the TV, Lex Luthor is back in Metropolis anyway. It seems my overseas adventures are over, at least for now.

While Clark is gone, I sit around the kitchen table with the Kents drinking a cup of tea for my little cold, and listening to stories about Clark growing up. I thought this would be filled with awkward moments and vague explanations, but instead I heard endearing stories about Clark lifting his first sofa, outrunning a herd of horses, and then the slightly more embarrassing stories of Clark learning to use his other special abilities. I wondered if Clark would mind his parents telling me about all of this, but I figured he wouldn’t have left me alone with them if he hadn’t wanted us all to get to know each other.

So I sip my tea and sit back, learning a little about the mysteries that surround Clark Kent.

It’s funny, a week ago I had thought I needed to go to the most dangerous corners of the earth to feel alive and focused again. Now, I feel like I am right where I need to be, listening to two adoptive parents telling me stories about their superpowered son.

Wait — adoptive?

“Where did Clark come from when you adopted him?” I ask, thinking it’s an innocent enough question.

But the cozy atmosphere in the room lifts as Martha and Jonathan Kent glance at each other uneasily. I obviously hit a nerve here.

“Look, I appreciate you explaining the why about Clark, but obviously the how is a bigger secret.” I sigh, slightly frustrated that all of the Kents seem to only go so far in telling me the truth about Clark. I meet the gaze of both of his parents, hoping to reassure them that I am only trying to learn about Clark, and not undermine him. “I mean the best for Clark. I just want to understand him… I — I think I’m even falling in love with him,” I admit before I can stop myself, surprised that admission is so close under the surface. I’ve barely acknowledged this to myself, and I don’t know why I suddenly said it, but it feels right.

I look across at Clark’s parents and feel a tightening of emotion in my chest I suddenly want to be a part of their secret little club, to at last feel like I belong somewhere. Clark is the first person I’ve ever met that I feel entirely at home with, and I just hope that his parents will eventually feel the same about me.

But I don’t want them to think I’m trying to pry the truth out of them. They already know I’m a reporter. They can’t help thinking that I’m only fishing for a story. So I try to be as honest with them as I’d like them to be with me. “I… I didn’t mean to say that. I know what you must think. Clark and I have only known each other for five days… but these five days have been the most extraordinary of my life,” I breathe out in a rush of remembrance… the plane rescue… seeing Clark bend steel in the Paris Metro… his kiss… flying in his arms…

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing anything here. Clark already said he’d tell me when he was ready. And I’m willing to wait until he is…” I lean forward in my chair, looking the Kents straight in the eye. “But you have to realize that when Clark does make his appearance as his new alter-ego, there will be questions. Not about Clark Kent, but about the hero. And we should all help him prepare how best to answer them.”

“And you mean how to answer them in the Daily Planet, don’t you, Miss Lane?” says Mr. Kent with some skepticism.

I nod, knowing that was coming. “Look, all of the newspapers around the nation — heck, around the world! — are going to want to know who this new superhero is. As I’ve told Clark, when he’s ready to tell his story, I’ll be happy to tell it how he wants it to be told. Trust me, it’s much better than the tabloids picking up the story and running with their own theories…”

Mrs. Kent nods in agreement as I speak, then turns to her husband. “She’s right, Jonathan. Clark is ready to step out in the public eye… We have to trust her to tell a version of the truth that will satisfy the public and not have them hounding after Clark to reveal his identity.”

I smile and nod encouragingly, so happy to have met an advocate in Martha Kent. Just then, we hear a whoosh outside the door and Clark is back with our things.

I stand up to greet him, but become quickly alarmed when I notice his face is covered in soot and his shirt and pants are torn.

“Clark, what happened?”

He sets the suitcases down and takes off his glasses to wipe them clean. “A fire in Madrid, on the way back,” he says casually, dusting off some more soot on his pants. “But it’s all right. I saved a family… I just need to go change.”

Clark takes off up the flight of stairs and I stare at his departing broad shoulders, admiring how easily he takes responsibility, especially without any praise or recognition. It just makes me love him that much more. I turn around and see Clark’s parents watching me.

“You really do care for him, don’t you, Lois?” asks Mrs. Kent gently.

I nod and give her an assured smile, “Yeah, I do.”

***

I wake up the next morning in Clark’s bed. As per the orders of his parents, he slept downstairs. I thought it was a quaintly old-fashioned arrangement, but neither Clark nor I mentioned we had already shared a bed in Europe and had not in fact devolved into lust-crazed individuals. But, his parents’ house, their rules, I suppose.

I slept soundly, comforted by the creaking sounds of the farmhouse, and being surrounded by things that were just so — Clark. I had taken a few minutes last night to peruse his shelves, admiring his high school football trophies and odd little knickknacks that bespoke of a youth full of happy memories. Lying in his bed, I easily had felt Clark’s presence and in that comfort, had fallen instantly asleep.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I hear now and rub my eyes, stirring out of slumber. The bright yellow sun streams through the curtains, and I see Clark leaning against the doorframe, wearing jeans and a blue and red plaid shirt watching me.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, walking over to me, as I sit up a little in bed.

“Yeah… what time is it?” I wonder, feeling like I somehow overslept.

“Just after nine,” he answers with a grin.

“Is that all?” I grumble, tossing myself back under the covers. “Unless Perry pages me I’ll just lie here a little while longer…” I murmur, but then sit right back up. “Oh my gosh! Perry!” I cry, remembering that my wallet and pager were stolen in Rome. “I usually check in once a day — he hasn’t heard from me and I don’t know what I will tell him about Luthor — ” I start in a panic.

Clark’s reassuring hand rests on my arm, stopping me. “Relax, Lois. While I was getting our things in Marseilles, I heard about an art heist… I don’t think it has anything to do with Luthor this time, but I wrote up a piece this morning, figuring you’d need something…and I think we should tread carefully about what happened at Luthor’s party anyway,” he says, and I presume he’s referring to the rock that knocked him for a loop.

I give him a quick kiss on the lips, thoroughly grateful for his help with the backup article. “You’re my hero,” I say sincerely, meaning it in a hundred different ways.

I pull back from the quick kiss and meet his eyes. His eyes move to my lips, and we lean in about to kiss properly, but instead his smile widens. “How about some breakfast?”

***

After a delicious country breakfast, complete with ham and grits, Mrs. Kent announces that she is ready to start on Clark’s costume. He grumbles appropriately, but I think I see a look in his eye that he’s ready to tackle the challenge, and might even be looking forward to it.

Clark and I make our way to the living room as Mrs. Kent gathers her supplies. She comes trundling in with stacks and stacks of fabric, and Clark goes over to help her set it all out around the room.

She beams at me, telling me her ideas as she sets up her sewing machine. “I went into town early this morning and found yards and yards of spandex on sale. The clerk gave me a strange look, but I just said I was helping with the neighbor’s Halloween costumes this year.”

Clark rolls his eyes and looks over at me, crossing his arms across his chest. “Please, just try not to make me look like a clown, Mom.”

We go through swatches of color choices, first looking for colors that might help Clark blend in. But greens, blacks, and grays just don’t suit the goal here. I remind Mrs. Kent that we need something to make Clark stand out, to make him a larger than life hero, so that mild-mannered Clark Kent could never be associated with the alter ego.

She drapes various loud fabrics and patterns on Clark that make him look like everything from a circus performer to Elvis. She also quickly cuts out a few test patches and, going off my Zorro idea, we try out a number of different masks. But none of them seem to work, and especially not with his glasses. He looks more like nerd than a hero.

“Well, I don’t see why I should wear the glasses when I’m helping people,” he says, taking them off. “Besides, the only reason I wear them is to keep me from using my abilities in inopportune moments… As this… hero-whatever,” he says with a vague wave of his hand, “I’ll need full access to my abilities.”

“Yes! And it will also help distance Clark Kent from your alter-ego,” I add. Mrs. Kent is still mixing and matching colors to find the right combination. I eye Clark critically, appreciating how handsome he looks, even when wearing his blue and red flannel shirt. In fact… he looks very good in it — maybe even hero good?

“What about blue and red, Mrs. Kent?” I ask, my gaze fixed on Clark. “We had that red cape cut to try with the green, but did we try blue?”

“No, I don’t think so. Give me about twenty minutes, and we can try one in blue… this pattern is pretty straightforward…”

I walk over to the sewing area, which looks like a rainbow exploded in the floor, and fish around for the prototype red cape. Clark’s a tall guy, and Mrs. Kent cut quite a long cape for him, so I struggle a bit to bundle it up in my arms and bring it over to him.

“Do I really need a cape?” he asks, eyeing it suspiciously as I sort out which end is the top.

“I think it will look good when you’re flying,” I say, liking the mental image of Clark in a cape… and maybe little else…

“It will help with the aerodynamics, I think,” Mrs. Kent calls from behind her sewing machine.

I unfurl the yards of fabric and drape it around Clark’s shoulders. I unbutton his shirt a bit and tuck the collar in, tacking the cape inside to try and get an idea how he’d look in it with a blue suit. “Well, I love the cape, but the flannel’s got to go, Farmerboy,” I kid and Clark pulls me onto his lap as we plop on the sofa. I wrap my arms around his neck, fiddling with his cape behind him.

“Thank you, Lois,” he says simply, out of the blue, and I fix my attention on his eyes. He’s smiling happily, and seems more relaxed than I remember seeing him since I met him.

“Whatever for?”

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m actually looking forward to this whole costume thing. I think there’s real potential in the idea. And as much as I love traveling around the world, I really would like to be one place for a while.”

I continue to play with his shirt, and the cape that keeps slipping from it, my fingers finding their way to his chest. “And… could that place be Metropolis?” I ask, my heart moving to my throat as I fill with hope.

“Well, I would like to meet your editor first… you know, see if there’s a job possibility there,” he hints good-naturedly, though I cringe a bit.

I sit back from him a little, my eyes suddenly focused on a speck of dirt on his shirt.

“Lois? What is it?” he asks, his voice warm with concern.

“Clark… I have to tell you something,” I say firmly, determined that I lay all of my cards out on the table. “Now, let me preface this by saying that I’ve done all I can to disassociate you from the article I sent Perry… but I did sort of hint that you might be a story, too…” I say, wincing in shame.

He sighs, sets me aside off his lap and stands up, the cape slipping out of its tenuous hold in his shirt. “When were you going to tell me this?”

“Well,” I grimace, “I’m telling you now,” I start gamely, but keep talking, hoping he’ll understand. “But Clark, I think if we can debut your alter-ego before I introduce you to Perry — and you play up your mild-mannered, charming farm boy self, I don’t think he’ll notice.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, and pulls his collar out of its tucks. “I really hope you’re right, Lois.”

Just then, Mrs. Kent comes over to us, slicing through the tension as she holds out what look to be shiny blue pajamas to Clark. “Okay, Clark, try this on.”

***

“Clark?” Mrs. Kent calls from outside the bathroom. “Does it fit?”

Silence from behind the door.

“Clark?” she asks again, glancing at me. “Come out so Lois and I can see.”

“Um… I really don’t want to, Mom,” Clark says in a voice that is almost squeaky.

Mrs. Kent and I share a giggle, but she tries again. “Come on, Clark. It can’t be that bad.”

We wait a moment longer, and then Clark opens the door, his hands on his hips, which draw my eyes to his waist… and lower.

I feel my cheeks flush, “Oh, my…” I say a little breathless.

Clark harrumphs and crosses his arms. “I look ridiculous.”

When I can focus again, my gaze takes in the full effect. The spandex highlights every little perfect detail of his body, and with his arms folded across that chest, well, he cuts quite an imposing figure.

“Hmm… maybe we can… sort of cover that area,” Mrs. Kent grumbles, walking over to her sewing machine. She digs around and comes up with a pair of red spandex briefs. “Try these over the suit,” she says, and I burst out laughing.

“Are you serious? Do you really think I should — draw attention?” he shudders embarrassedly, covering the, er, offending area with the briefs his mom hands him.

I try to contain my giggles over Clark’s maidenly modesty, while Mrs. Kent looks at him frankly. “Well, like Lois and I keep saying, Clark — people will definitely not be interested in looking at your face.”

***

After a few more additions, Clark is ready to try on the full costume with the cape. This time when he steps out of the bathroom, both Mrs. Kent and I are speechless.

“I look silly, don’t I?” Clark asks nervously, walking over to a mirror.

“Clark,” I say, coming up behind him. “You look amazing.”

His eyes catch mine in the mirror, and his lip twitches in an almost smile. He stands up straighter, slicks his hair back with his fingers and takes another look at himself. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” I smile, glad I don’t have heat vision, as I’m sure I would catch Clark’s cape on fire with the dirty thoughts starting to spin around in my mind as I eye him in the suit.

“Wait! Clark, I think something’s missing,” said Mrs. Kent, coming up behind us. She holds up a large patch with a stylized ‘S’ on it. She comes around to the front of Clark and lays it across his chest. It definitely looks better.

“What does it stand for?” I ask, wondering too where it came from.

“We don’t know,” said Mrs. Kent, adjusting the patch until it sits squarely above and over Clark’s pecs. “It was on Clark’s baby blanket when we found him.”

“Found him?” I query in surprise, and wonder how a baby like Clark could get left anywhere. “So, you didn’t adopt him then?”

Mrs. Kent exchanges a look with Clark and he nods slightly, as if he is giving her permission to tell me something.

“Lois, we found Clark… in a field… and — in a spaceship,” she says in all seriousness. “We think… well, that he came from another planet.”

I look at Clark with fresh eyes, who is looking back at me nervously in the mirror. His shoulders slump slightly and he seems uncomfortable with the topic. “How do you feel about your costume clad hero now, Lois?” he says in a slightly defeated tone.

I come over to him, laying my hand on his massive, shiny blue chest. “Clark… I think you’re wonderful, and the world is about to find out just how wonderful you are, too,” I say confidently and he smiles warmly in return, relief filling his eyes.

“I hope you’re right,” Clark says, sounding more confident.

“I am right. You’ll see.”

Mrs. Kent moves me out of the way so she can start pinning the patch in place, and I stare at it a moment. “And you have no idea what it stands for?”

Both of them shake their head. “Well, I’m pretty sure people are going to wonder… Why not have it stand for your alias?”

“And what alias do you think would work, Lois?”

“Well, with all the things you can do — I mean, superspeed, the vision thingy, and flying — you’re more than just an ordinary man, Clark,” I state, assessing the possibilities. “I think you are the suped up version of your everyday hero… how about — Superman?”

***

“Clark, I need to get back to Metropolis,” I say a few hours later, after having helped Mrs. Kent tidy up the fabric-strewn living room.

Clark sighs and gazes contemplatively at his new suit slung over the sofa. “And you really think people will buy into Superman?” he asks warily. “You don’t think people will be afraid of me?”

I step over to him, and lay my hand comfortingly on his chest. “Clark, I have no doubt that Superman will be the greatest hero Metropolis has ever seen — the world has ever seen! And we’ll make sure that people understand you’re here to help. Especially with this reporter writing your story,” I add playfully, trying to lighten his spirits. He’s obviously already feeling the responsibility of what it will mean to live a double life, and I don’t want him to fear it — but embrace it. I glance up at him, meeting him in the eye. “Clark, it will be okay. You’re not doing this alone. You’re parents are wonderfully supportive — and I’m here.”

“I know, Lois,” he says softly, cupping my cheek in the way that sends shivers down my spine. “It’s just, when you’ve hidden so long like I have, it takes a lot to believe that people will accept you.”

“Clark, they will. Trust me. The world needs more heroes these days… But we must find a moment that’s good enough for your debut. Either a big rescue or a good PR moment… I don’t know, but we must be on the lookout for it. Which is another reason to get back to Metropolis,” I start pacing, beginning to check off a mental to-do list. “But I don’t want to step a toe into the Daily Planet until I have a top story — which will either be you or Luthor, frankly…”

In my maelstrom of plans, I happen to glance back at Clark, who still looks decidedly worried. “What is it, Clark? I told you, we’ll write your story together, when the time is right — ”

“No, Lois. It’s Lex Luthor. Do you really have to pursue that right now? He’s dangerous. As soon as he learns you are back in Metropolis — ”

I interrupt him, seeing where he’s going. “What’s dangerous is letting him get away with whatever scheme he’s planning, Clark. Anyway, he’s back in the city, and I know guys who know guys who can figure out what he’s up to without me getting directly involved.”

He eyes me with uncertainty, no doubt seeing danger in my methods — but then he lets out a light laugh of exasperation. “Lois… are you always like this?”

I simply grin at him in return. “You’ll get used to it!”

***

Clark drops me off at my apartment a short time later. On the way to Metropolis, he complained that his costume was too tight under his regular clothes, but honestly, it only made me giggle. I still can’t wipe the delectable image from my mind of him stepping out of the bathroom in just the blue suit. Darn right it’s tight! And in all the right places too!

As we start to fly over the city, I get a little misty-eyed. It’s so beautiful up here… I snuggle a little deeper in his arms, my heart full of emotion as I think of how distraught I was when I left this city. And now, here I am in the arms of the most amazing man. Almost unconsciously I cling tighter to him. I worry what will happen if I can’t convince Perry to hire him. Or worse, if the whole Superman thing doesn’t go over as well as I hope it will. I’d never admit it to Clark, because I believe in him, but it will take some very good PR on my part and support from the Planet to really sell the idea. Clark has to sell it too… But I worry that if it doesn’t go just right, he’ll leave…

I get pulled out of my musings as Clark asks for directions to my apartment. I navigate him to it, slightly amused at looking for my apartment from a bird’s eye view. Never thought I’d be coming in for a landing on my back doorstep before! At last, he sets me on my balcony, and I’m quite happy to be home again. “You know, it doesn’t matter how far I travel, I’m always happy to come back to Metropolis.”

“I feel that way about Smallville. But I will admit, there is something that calls to me here in the big city,” he says, gazing out across the Metropolis skyline with a look I thoroughly recognize as a burgeoning love for this great city.

“Mmmm… I know what you mean,” I say, taking in the distant noises of cars and life and the buildings that surround my neighborhood.

Clark tears his gaze from the skyline, and suddenly pulls his glasses down and looks intently at my apartment wall. “Whatever are you doing, Clark? My apartment is perfectly safe, I’m sure,” I say with some amusement.

“Well, Luthor may not know you’re in town just yet — but it doesn’t mean I put it past him to spy on you… But everything looks fine from here.”

“And what are you going to do now?” I ask, fumbling through my keychain for the key I never use, the one to my back door balcony.

His eyes come to rest on mine, and then slightly lower, and I thrill to realize he’s thinking of kissing me. I step up to him, turning my face up to his. “Well, I need to look for an apartment,” he begins, but I think he’s beginning to be distracted by other thoughts.

I give him a little smile that I hope appears sexy. “You could always stay here with me, Clark,” I suggest, but as I expect, his farm boy sensibilities are a little offended at the idea and I almost laugh.

“Lois, I’m happy to date you — but we’re still getting to know each other,” he starts, but I hush him up quickly by placing my finger on his lips.

“We can keep getting to know each other… especially in one of my favorite ways,” I whisper, leaning up to kiss him. His arm comes around my back, pulling me to him, and my hands find their way to his hair. His tongue explores mine, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. All too quickly, he pulls away.

“Maybe we can meet for dinner later?” he suggests, and by his breathless tone, I surmise that he is more affected by our kiss than he lets on.

“Here in Metropolis or further afield?” I tease, imagining flying in Clark’s arms again across the Atlantic… or to Hawaii…

“Well, it will be too late to eat dinner in Europe… so how about we stay in Metropolis tonight? I’ll be back to pick you up around eight?”

“I can’t wait,” I smile.

He reluctantly steps away from me, squeezing my hand gently as he lets me go.

“See you then, Lois.”

“Meanwhile, don’t try saving the city without me!” I chide lightly, as he starts to lift away.

“Don’t worry, Lois. When it’s time for me to make my appearance on the world’s stage, you’ll be the first to know.”

***

It’s nice to be home after all of my adventures. My fish have been taken care of by my neighbor, and seem to have survived the experience. I have a stack of mail to sort through, but I don’t mind.

I think about the torrent of emotions I was going through in those days before I left for Europe. Evidence of it is still in my apartment: a few dishes left in the sink, my untidy bed, and my closet and dresser drawers slightly spilling over in disorder. I had been hurt, humiliated, and completely lost. Now, even though I am uncertain exactly what my future with Clark will hold, I believe there can be one. I’m hopeful that we’ll manage to get him a job working with me at the Planet, and I plan on helping him manage his second job moonlighting in tights as much as he’ll let me.

I check my messages, including the remote ones that I would have been alerted to if I hadn’t lost my beeper. A disconcerted Perry is on one of them, asking about a follow-up to the Luthor story. I really have nothing to give Perry, which isn’t good at all. The longer I wait to chase down Luthor, the more time he’ll have to wriggle his way out of whatever he’s planning. I think of calling a few of my contacts, like Bobby Bigmouth, but honestly, I don’t want anyone to know I’m back yet. I don’t want Luthor to get wind of it, and I don’t want Perry to know until I have my big story lined up.

I sigh, looking at the clock. It’s only just after three. I have plenty of time before my date with Clark. I know Clark would worry if he knew what I was thinking, but I don’t want him anywhere near that green rock stuff, which we might encounter again if he went with me to investigate Luthor. I need to find out what that sneaky magnate is up to, and I’m going to have to do it on my own.

***

I swing open my closet door, searching for a viable disguise to sneak into LexCorp. I smirk a little as I eye my quirky wardrobe. Is it any wonder that I had thought of putting Clark in a disguise? I’ve been dressing up since I was three!

I snatch my long red wig and a generic overalls work suit, hoping to blend in with the maintenance crew. If I plant myself as one of the lowest on the totem pole, it should be doubtful anyone would recognize me. As an afterthought, I grab a black baseball cap.

I stuff my disguise in a black duffle bag and head out of my apartment. I think briefly of calling Clark to tell him what I’m up to, just in case it all goes wrong. But just thinking of him facing that green rock again makes me nauseous with worry. Besides, I’m not going to confront Luthor. I merely want to have a look around and see what I can see.

I leave my things in a locker at a nearby train station, and I slip into the ladies room to change into my disguise. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, pleased by the transformation.

A while back, before I left for Europe, I had a guy dig me up a work badge for LexCorp Towers. I had no intention of using it then, but I’m sure glad that I have it now. I easily sneak in at the basement employee entrance. But finding my way to Luthor’s penthouse will be another matter altogether. At least I know the general direction. Up.

I take a few wrong turns, oddly ending up in a wine cellar. I guess when you’re a billionaire you need a cache of wine even at the office!

At last, I find an elevator and take it up as far as it will go. It stops on the 60th floor, as the last ten are evidently for privileged personnel only. “Drat,” I mutter, stepping off the elevator to look for a stairway entrance.

I walk down a few innocuous hallways, uncertain how I’ll get off this floor besides taking the elevator back down. But having come this far, I’m not going to back out now.

I see a tall beautiful black woman approach a different elevator that has a key swipe pad next to it. This has to be the elevator that leads to Luthor’s suites. I remember seeing a cleaning crew cart down another hallway, and I quickly double back to see if it is still there. Luckily it is, and I quickly run to grab it.

I race back to the elevator just as the woman steps in.

“Wait! Please!” I cry in a faux French accent.

The woman doesn’t even glance at me, but luckily the cart jams the door open so I can get in.

I almost offer an explanation, but the woman is either preoccupied with something, or I am totally below her radar.

“Mr. Luthor does not like his employees taking the main elevator,” she addresses me coolly, still not looking at me, but burying her nose in a day planner. “If he sees you, he’ll fire you. Better get off before I do if you want to keep your job.”

She pushes a button, and shortly the elevator stops at the 64th floor. “Merci,” I say and quickly exit.

This floor looks like a hotel, with lots of doors leading to who knows where. But I need to get up to the penthouse. I watch the elevator floor indicator and see that the woman gets off at the top floor. I try calling it back down, but notice there is another card swipe pad. The elevator won’t come back down to this floor without the key card.

I start wandering the hallways, looking for another way up, slowly pushing my cart. I notice security cameras above me, and my heart is pounding with worry that any moment I’ll be discovered. At last, I come to a stairwell.

I abandon my cart and begin to climb. Two flights up, I try a door, and as I feared, it is locked. I have a feeling they will all be locked, but I continue climbing. At the 70th floor, I’m a bit out of breath, but try one more time. Nothing. I rest against the door a moment, thinking I was foolish to have come here, especially without my handy superpowered boyfriend…

There is at least one more level of stairs to go, and because I’ve made it this far and I’m curious as to what can be on the next level, I continue to climb. This door has a long push handle across it, but doesn’t seem attached to any alarms, so I go through it.

I’m on the roof. I step outside, and I’m immediately three feet from the edge of the tallest building in Metropolis. I can’t even see the street from up this high. Feeling a moment of vertigo, I quickly step back so I’m pressed against the entrance to the roof. I hear a loud noise from behind me and I realize it’s a helicopter. I edge my way around the roof entrance structure , and see Lex Luthor himself heading to the helipad carrying the box I had seen in Venice. I move closer, sticking to the edge of the building, and a gust of wind suddenly snatches my cap and skews my wig. Before I can right it, Luthor sees me!

“Grab her!” he shouts to one of his goons.

I yelp and spin around, heading back the way I came. Only the door is locked shut! I slam at it helplessly, and then feel two strong men grab me on each side. “Let go of me!” I cry angrily. They drag me over to where Luthor is next to the helicopter. He pulls my wig off and grins wickedly at me.

“You do love disguises, don’t you, Miss Lane?” Then he looks to his goons and gestures to the helicopter. “She’s coming with us. I don’t have time to deal with her here. But I want to keep an eye on her.”

I protest, realizing how stupid it was to come here all alone, without even telling Clark what I was up to. But before I can even kick again at the goons holding me, a handkerchief comes to my mouth and I’m suddenly very sleepy…

***

I wake up in the luxury helicopter, tied into a plush leather seat, with my feet and hands bound. I’m facing away from Luthor and his copilot, so they can’t know I’m awake. I glance around me and see the box of green rock is strapped into the seat next to me.

I lay my head back, straining to hear what they are talking about over the muffled noise of the chopper. I close my eyes, in case anyone decides to check on me, and let my head slip down. It’s best to appear as innocuous as impossible, at least until we land.

“We’re about 35 miles out of Smallville, Mr. Luthor. But I just heard a tornado warning come through the wire. We should head back to Metropolis and try another day…”

“No, we’ll make it. I’ve been searching for this rock too long… If there’s a depository as large as my men say there, then I want to see it. I’m the only one who can confirm it is the same type of mineral from my sample. We’ll be fine. Continue the course.”

“But Mr. Luthor — ” the pilot protests, and I silently agree.

“I don’t pay you to second guess me, Captain. Now, stay the course!” Luthor answers in a tone that brooks no argument.

I begin to worry in earnest. Luthor is sending us into a death trap!

As we near Smallville, winds are obviously starting to pick up. The helicopter is still on course, but it feels like we’re being tossed around a bit. The box with Luthor’s rock in it tumbles to the floor, tossing the green mineral into a corner.

“Sir, we need to turn back! Now!” the captain cries, his voice filled with anxiety.

“No! No twisters have been sighted yet, Captain. We’ll make it. We’re almost there!”

We continue a little ways further, and I watch the storm brewing outside my window. Thunder and lightning abound, and I suddenly see a terrifying sight as a twister starts forming out of the clouds.

I can keep silent no longer, and I cry, “A tornado! There! It’s forming!”

Luthor peeks behind the seat at me, but notices his precious rock on the ground. He crawls over the seat to pick it up, but as he bends to get it, I kick him in the rear with my bound feet, knocking his head on the door. I struggle to unbuckle my seatbelt, as I cry over my shoulder, “Turn this thing around, Captain!”

“I can’t! The winds are driving it now!” he screams in return.

My seatbelt is a latch belt, and I manage to get my forearm under the clip and scoot forward in my seat to loosen its length. I crawl out from underneath it and land with a thud on the floor of the helicopter. We’re starting to fishtail a bit, but I have to give credit to the captain for keeping us as steady as he has.

I know our only real chance is Clark — if he even knows I’m up here! But he can’t come anywhere near the chopper with that green rock!

I scoot towards it, debating how I can get rid of it. Luthor suddenly stirs awake, though he seems a bit out of it. He reaches upwards to lift himself up, though his hand grabs for the door handle!

“Mr. Luthor!” I cry, but it’s too late. The door swings open, just as we dip sideways. He manages to pull himself up, but the rock slips to the edge, about to teeter out of the chopper. I realize this could be my chance to get rid of the thing once and for all and I slither a bit further on the floor and kick it out.

I glance up at Luthor, who looks at me with hateful anger. “You — what have you done?!”

Furiously, he pushes on my shoulder, sending me almost out of the chopper entirely! I can feel the winds licking at my heels, and the chopper dips sideways. I slip out further, and I grab onto the side of the door with both of my tied hands. I can hear the winds whistling fiercely around us. I glance up and see Luthor looming over me. The winds begin to howl and I realize we’re about to be sucked up into a funnel!

“Help!” I cry, wanting desperately to call for Clark. “Help, please!”

Luthor gets knocked to his feet by the shifting chopper, and my grip is slipping from the rail, when suddenly, I feel arms wrap around me. It’s him. He came!

“I’ve got you, Lois,” he says in my ear, as he tucks me into his arms. I see they are wrapped in the blue spandex, and even in my distress, I can’t help but smile. His moment to become Superman has finally arrived.

Suddenly we’re pulled away from the winds, and before I can blink Clark sets me down by the storm cellar on his farm. Mr. and Mrs. Kent are there, and they quickly take me inside. The winds are less here than they were in the air, but the storm is rapidly increasing. I glance at Clark, new in his suit, his cape fluttering behind him.

“I have to go, Lois. You’ll be safe here,” he says, taking off into the air.

I climb down the stairs of the cellar, and we pull the doors closed above us. I watch through the slats, unable to keep my gaze from the sky as Clark — no, Superman — flies back up to rescue the helicopter.

Soon, the winds become too great and I can’t see anything further, so I step back into the cellar with the Kents.

I glance at them and smile. “This is it. This is his moment. The moment heroes are made.”

***

Mr. Kent dug out an old radio he had left down here in the storm shelter just for these kinds of emergencies. It takes him a while, but at last we get a channel from Wichita, even if it is a little crackly.

“…three more twisters spotted in and around Smallville. Everyone is advised to take cover as winds pick up…”

It seems an eternity as we wait. A million thoughts go through my head… Did Clark rescue Luthor’s helicopter? Was Luthor still wearing that ring? Will Clark be able to get away before it can hurt him?

“He’ll be fine, Lois,” his mom says to me, patting my arm, apparently seeing the worry on my face.

I wonder if she knows… Clark had seemed completely oblivious as to the existence of the green rock before Venice…

“Mrs. Kent — ”

“Please, call me Martha. You’re practically family now, Lois,” she says with a warm smile.

I smile weakly in return. Although I’m touched by the gesture, I’m worried about what could happen to Clark. “Martha — do you know about a green rock that affects Clark? When we were in Venice, Mr. Luthor had a large sample of it, and he said it had come from here, Smallville.”

“I’ve never seen any green rocks around here. And how could it affect Clark?”

“It hurt him,” I begin warily.

“What do you mean, it hurt him?” she responded in some alarm.

“It made him weak — he even briefly lost his powers.”

She looked fearfully at me. “We’ve never seen anything that can hurt our son… And why are you telling me now?”

I told her my harrowing tale of being in Luthor’s helicopter and about pushing out the large chunk of rock.

“Luthor thought he found a deposit of it in Smallville. He brought his sample to check it against what his men found… But he also wears a ring made of the stuff and I just worry what will happen to Clark if he gets too close — ”

“Hush a moment! I think they’re talking about Clark — ” Mr. Kent interrupted, his ear bent close to the radio.

“…two of the twisters never touched ground. Inexplicably, they seemed to have been rerouted, as if the wind suddenly changed direction…”

We all exchange relieved glances.

“Is his breath really that strong?” I ask, mentally going over the catalogue of super powers I know about.

Martha shrugs, “Well, he once sneezed and sent the tractor almost a mile away… so I think it might be possible…”

“…just in. Mr. Lex Luthor, Metropolis’ philanthropic billionaire, has been rescued from his storm-ravaged helicopter. We don’t have details yet, but we know he was rescued out of the sky… More later, when we understand what exactly happened…”

I smile broadly at the Kents. “Clark’s okay, then! And the world has just heard their first story about Superman, though they don’t know it yet! It means I have to get cracking on the Daily Planet’s story… I hope Clark gets back soon. I want Perry to get this ASAP,” I say, getting up from the stool I was perched on as I look for pen and paper in the musty shed. There’s got to be something to write with down here…

I glance at the Kents, and they eye me with a worried expression. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Lois?” asks Mr. Kent.

I do my best to reassure him. “Clark will pre-approve every word, I promise. He’s already made himself a hero — we simply need to give him a proper introduction.”

***

About an hour later, we were able to return to the farmhouse. The electricity was out, but Martha was kind enough to set me up with her old typewriter and a few candlesticks.

I had scribbled some notes on cardboard with a pencil I had found in the shelter, surprising both of Clark’s parents with my resourcefulness.

I begin writing my piece on Superman, meanwhile worrying what is taking Clark so long to return. The storms have passed, and besides the electricity being off, everything seems to be all right.

I’m busy typing away, when I see a figure on the back porch. I know it’s Clark and I rush over to open the door for him.

I throw myself in his arms, noting that his uniform smells of cool air and even a little smoke.

“Lois,” he breathes with relief into my hair, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“What happened? Is everything all right?” I ask as we step into the kitchen. He looks a little tired, but there’s also a spark of excitement in his eyes. His hair is tousled, and there are smudges of dirt and soot all over him; he looks wonderful.

“Lois — it was amazing,” he began, taking a seat at the kitchen table while I pour us some lemonade. “After I left you, I went back to the helicopter. The look on Luthor’s face was priceless. I’m pretty sure he thought he would always be the only truly powerful man in Metropolis,” Clark says a bit smugly, but then shrugs his shoulders as if shaking off the moment of one-upmanship. “Anyway, I instructed him to take a seat, which he did and strapped himself in. I landed them just outside downtown Wichita. He was dumbstruck, Lois. I don’t know if he was grateful or angry, but I hope it changes his perspective on some things….”

I reach over and put my hand on Clark’s. “What about the ring? I didn’t notice if he had it on. I was so worried — ”

Clark’s eyes met mine, full of warmth that I am so concerned. “I was fine, Lois. I did see the ring. Which is why I directed him to stay in the helicopter. If I had picked up him and his pilot, I would have fallen like a stone out of the sky… Don’t worry, he has no clue that his rescuer and the guy who stumbled all over himself at his Venetian party are the same man.”

“That’s a relief… You know he found a deposit of the stuff. That’s why he was in Smallville.”

Clark, to my surprise, nods. “More about that in a second… Now the twister I saved you from did land. I couldn’t stop it, but I saw two others forming across the horizon. I was able to blow those two off course, so they never even touched ground. Then, I flew back to where the one landed, and immediately felt the green rock in the ground. It was near Shuster’s Field, where my parents found me. But the twister actually helped. I watched from a safe distance as it scattered some of the rock, and buried the rest of it underground. The remaining bits above ground are not enough for Luthor to bother with… I think he’ll drop that project now. At least, I hope so.”

I nod in satisfaction, glad that Mother Nature was able to lend a hand. “And the third twister? What happened?”

Clark’s buoyed spirits seem to fall a bit. He clears his throat and then continues his story. “I wasn’t in time to stop it….It — took out a small town. I flew down after, and blew out a few fires, helped rescue a few people. But it wasn’t enough, Lois. There were a few injured… and so many people lost their homes…” He lays his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

I rub his back soothingly, under his cape. “Clark — but you did so much. The people are grateful for what you did, I’m sure.”

He nods, and glances up at me. There are tears in his eyes, but a shining hope there as well. “I was so worried what they would think — seeing this caped man flying around them — but they were all so happy to see me when they saw why I was there. After they got over their initial shock, they just asked me to help. And I did… It was — really rewarding.”

I smile at him, and lean over to kiss his cheek. “I told you that you are a hero.”

He gives me a lopsided grin, and then notices my typewriter. “Already writing your piece, I see,” he says, though there is no recrimination is in his voice. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

We spend the next hour or so going over my article, and adding things to it. What it boils down to is the birth of a superhero. We decide to lead with “Superman saves billionaire and towns in twist of fate” as the main headline. If I can write a glowing few sentences about Luthor, then maybe he’ll back off my tail, at least for a while. We also decide that we will tell Perry that I got a ride back with Luthor from Europe, and that was how I got my interview — well, sort of interview. If you call spying at an exclusive Venetian party and being held captive on a billionaire’s helicopter an interview! But I know I have enough information to make the article work. We will mention he’s working on a green energy project, but not go into details about the mineral. That way, I will have all my bases covered: an ‘interview’ with Luthor, painting him as a normal businessman struck down by a twist of fate, and distance Clark from the story altogether by not including him in the byline.

I still have my sights on taking down the billionaire, but I think it will have to wait for another day. Clark’s debut is more important; the real meat and potatoes of the story is explaining who Superman is and why he is here. We work on that bit well into the night, knowing the wording will have to be perfect. I even convince Clark to let me take a picture of him in the suit. We stage it so he’s in the air, in profile, so there’s no doubt he can fly.

And since Clark’s name is not even in the byline, there’s no possible connection between him and Superman, so I can introduce Clark to Perry a few days after the article runs.

Having our plan worked out, and the article written, I am now exhausted. Clark excuses himself to change out of his new work uniform, and I rest my head on the kitchen table.

Just for a moment…

***

“Lois! You’re back!” Perry beams at me the next morning when I come into the bullpen.

“And I’ve got a heck of story for you, Chief!” I say, waving my copy at him excitedly.

“I hope it’s about this flying man I heard rumors about last night. Not a single news outlet knows how to explain it, so they’ve been tiptoeing around the story. Some are saying the pilot who reported it was just in shock and didn’t know what he saw,” Perry says, but quickly gets engrossed in reading my story.

I wait expectantly, and after a moment, he looks up at me with a smile. “Great shades of Elvis, Lois, this is fantastic! And — have you actually talked to this Superman?”

I nod, handing him the photo of Superman and say what Clark and I had worked out the night before. “He only had a moment after he rescued the helicopter, but yes. I got the exclusive, Chief! And even a photo!” I only feel a little stab of guilt in that Clark can’t take direct credit for some of the story. But he needs to be off the byline in order to sell the new superhero.

“So you got your interview with Luthor, after all. Well, good going, Lois. We’re glad to have you back. And this has got to go to print right away. We’ll beat all the other papers in the country with this!” Perry says gleefully, and then over his shoulder he shouts so the whole newsroom hears him, “Copy!”

***

The next morning, Clark is at my door bright and early.

“Hey there,” he says, and flashes this morning’s Daily Planet at me. My article is above the fold and I smile ecstatically at him.

“Perry loved it! And the rest of Metropolis will, too! I’ve already gotten calls from several media outlets. They want to meet Superman, and I’m the only connection they have so far.”

Clark’s smile vanishes. “What did you say to them, Lois? Because I don’t want people thinking you can just call me up on the phone. I have no doubt that criminals would want to take advantage of that.”

I shake my head, reassuring him. “No. I said it was a fluke meeting, that I have no idea if I will see you — er, him again. But Clark, I think the next step needs to be a press conference. You know, introduce yourself to the city. State that you want to stay in Metropolis. People are endlessly curious about you…”

“I know,” he says resignedly. “That’s been part of my problem, even before the costume. But hopefully if Superman makes a few public appearances explaining himself, then that will be all that’s necessary.”

I grab my coat and briefcase and then smile at Clark. “So, are you ready to meet the editor of the world’s greatest newspaper?”

***

I watch Clark as we enter the Planet building, his gaze soaking up every detail. The building itself is about eighty years old, and it definitely has an imposing style to it that I hardly even notice anymore. We stop outside in front of the globe, Clark staring at it in awe.

“I can’t believe I’m really here,” he almost whispers.

I laugh good-naturedly at his open admiration. “You’ll get used to it, Farmboy,” I say, tugging him along. Honestly, I do know what he means. I remember the first time I stepped into this hallowed building, thinking of all the great reporters that had gone before me. And seeing that wonder in Clark secretly makes me smile.

When we get up to the bullpen, no one even notices Clark. He has his hands in his pockets, and he keeps looking around a bit like a lost tourist as he follows me closely.

My heart starts fluttering as we near Perry’s office. I hope Perry is off the scent of Clark being a story, and he will just see him as a good journalist — and a potential new-hire.

I tap on his door, and he waves us in, finishing up a phone conversation.

“… Okay, Alice. I’ll see you at eight… love you, too. Bye.”

“Chief, I’d like you to meet Clark Kent,” I present with a bit of aplomb, and Clark reaches to take Perry’s hand.

Perry smiles, then his expression turns a little suspicious as he glances back at me. At first, I feel my throat close up with fear, wondering if he’ll call me out about Clark being a story — or worse, mention Superman and Clark’s name in the same sentence. But as Clark’s ‘interview’ gets underway, I begin to realize Perry’s suspicions stem from another source.

“So you were a reporter in Borneo, huh, Kent?”

“Yes, sir. Though I’m from Kansas,” Clark says frankly, and we all move to have a seat. Clark waits till I’m seated before he follows suit, and I see Perry takes notice of the gesture.

“And you two met in Paris?” Perry says with that suspicious squint still in his eye, looking at me and then at Clark.

I step in, trying to keep the business at hand — getting Clark a job here — on track. “That’s right, Chief. Clark, er, Mr. Kent and I sent you a few stories while I was over there.”

Perry leans back in his chair, crossing his fingers on his chest as he thinks a minute.

Suddenly, he looks us both square in the eye. “Now, I don’t think office romances are a good thing. They go too easily awry, as you well know, Lois,” Perry says sternly, this pointedly directed at me, and I feel myself blush.

Clark glances at me with a ’now what?’ expression, and I get it entirely. Do we let Perry know that there is something between us and risk Perry sending Clark unequivocally packing?

Clark clears his throat and pulls out his CV and some articles. “Here’s some of my work, Mr. White. Miss Lane here is just helping out a fellow reporter,” he says. So it’s the colleagues route/no sparks angle. I roll my eyes. Perry won’t buy it.

Perry reads over Clark’s papers carefully, every now and then glancing at us with an unreadable expression. Then, he sets them down with a thwack on his desk and nods. “All right, Kent. You can have a trial run. Work with Lois on a few stories… “ Perry points at me. “Your first assignment is to do a follow-up on Superman. See if you can find out more about why he’s here and what he’s doing.”

It takes all of my effort to not look over at Clark at this mention and give him a conspiratorial wink. “We’ll do our best, Chief,” I manage with a straight face.

As we get up to leave, Perry pulls me aside, while Clark politely waits by the door. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you two are smitten with each other. But Lois, honey, please be careful. I don’t want what happened with Claude to happen with Clark. I trust your judgment on his reporting skills — the pieces you turned in together were certainly strong — but he still has to prove himself to me, you hear? No free rides.”

I nod gratefully to Perry. “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

Just then, Jimmy rushes in and runs smack into Clark, scattering papers everywhere. Clark bends to pick them up, apologizing profusely. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and he awkwardly hands back the papers to Jimmy. I realize suddenly that he did it slightly on purpose. I had suggested to him to play up the mild-mannered farmboy… I guess he took me at my word.

“Let’s get out of here, Kent. We’ve got work to do,” I say, purposefully stepping around Jimmy.

Clark follows me and I flash a quick smile at him. “You were perfect,” I whisper when we’re clear of Perry’s office.

“I don’t know if your boss really likes me though,” he answers with some trepidation.

I plop my stuff on my desk and look at Clark resolutely. “He’s your boss now, Kent. And you’ll win him over soon enough,” I wink at him, to soften the blow of my hard tone.

Clark suddenly turns his head as if he’s listening to something.

“What is it, Clark?” I ask, worried.

“Fire — down on 16th Street,” he says in a low voice so as not to attract attention. He glances over his shoulder at Perry’s office. “What should I do?”

I grin at him, and tug playfully on his tie. “Go save the day — I’ll be right behind you to get the scoop,” I say gleefully.

Clark suddenly smiles and starts taking off towards the elevators.

I grab my coat and a notepad, and I notice Perry watching me.

“Got a lead already, Lois?”

I simply grin and wave at him as I head out of the bullpen. “Keep the presses warm, Perry! I have a feeling I’ll be back with a headline!”

And so it begins…

***

EPILOGUE

~Paris~

We sit outside a quiet café on the Ile-St-Louis, right in the heart of Paris, about to enjoy an authentic Parisian meal. Clark flew us here for our ‘anniversary’ — a month ago today we entered each other’s lives and changed them forever.

“Here’s to almost one month working at the Planet, Clark,” I say lifting my champagne glass to his.

“And what a month… Never in all my wildest dreams could I imagine working for the Planet and finding a way to use my abilities out in the open.”

We clink our glasses together and take a sip.

“And here’s to your nomination for the Pulitzer, Lois Lane,” Clark adds with a wink in my direction. “Maybe next year an article with both our names on it will get the nod.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Clark, and you know it,” I say honestly, still a little guilty that our relationship had started because of my blind ambition to get his story.

He shrugs and takes another sip. “I’m just glad everything worked out,” he says, his focus shifting to our meal that has just arrived. I can’t pronounce a thing Clark ordered for us, but as I dig in, all I know is I’m eating a lovely chicken with asparagus and mashed potatoes — all of which sounded better in French but taste as heavenly in any language.

As I enjoy my meal, I realize there is more I want to say, need to say to him. I put my fork and knife down and look over at the man that has changed my life in so many ways in just a few short weeks. “Clark,” I begin hesitantly, though with just that one little word, I suddenly have his entire attention. I clear my throat, summoning courage, as Clark stops eating and patiently waits for me to continue. “I know sometimes I put up a tough front, especially at the office — but you do know, don’t you?” I fumble with my napkin, thinking of the few dates we’ve been on, the kisses we’ve shared, and all of the little adventures we’ve had in between. But I’ve never said those three words — I guess I’m still afraid that he’ll suddenly walk away from me, uncertain if he really thinks I’m worth sticking around for.

Clark reaches across the table and takes my hand, “Know what, Lois?”

I clear my throat, looking at my plate, unable to meet him in the eye, just in case his feeling isn’t as strong as mine… He scoots his chair closer to mine, and with his other hand, he lifts my chin so I’m forced to look in his eyes. “Know what?” he asks, softer, in a tone that melts my heart.

I sigh, take the plunge, Lois, I silently coach to myself. Then, suddenly it’s not hard, as I look in his eyes and I see there what I’ve seen all along. A friend, a partner — and I just know — he’s the one.

“I love you,” I breathe, and it’s as if I open a door to a world of new possibilities with those three words. I’m suddenly taken aback by the sheer force of it.

I realize now that Clark has always been more than a news headline to me, and certainly more than the man in a cape who flies.

He’s been my story… my own private knock-your-socks-off-you-won’t-believe-this story.

Because I see it there in his eyes — he loves me, too.

THE END

Appendix:

Paris is all about the cafes. Here are some pictures to help give you an idea:

Terminus Cafe, which is in the neighborhood of Opera where Lois’ hotel is, where I picture L&C having their first meeting, across from St. Lazare train station:

Terminus Cafe at Concorde Opera

Exterior Terminus Cafe

St Lazare train station

But to give you an even better idea of the neighborhood, here is the famous Cafe de la Paix:

Cafe de la Paix

Cafe de la Paix, exterior

TheLouvre arcadewhere Lois and Clark stop a moment.

Berthillon ice cream

Paris at night

ROME!

All the places I mention are real. Some you may know already, some you may not…

Spanish Steps

Palazzo Barberini

Piazza Navona 1

Piazza Navona 2

Teatro Costanzi

Remember this line?

“I find myself edging ever closer to Clark during a love duet about hearts pounding and passion.”

Here’s a really excellent version of the duet (a little risque too!), with English subtitles. For those of you not used to opera, the first part is recitative, or speech singing — wait about 2 minutes in for the duet to start.

Cosi fan tutte is one of my favorite operas! My nickname, Mozartmaid, comes from this opera’s Despina — she’s a little like Lois, though she’s much more practical than her. Feisty, smart, and has been wounded in love. From the same company, here’s ’In uomini’ which has Despina tell the girls how they should not trust men, but learn to use them to their advantage.

Clark gave you the short version, but here’s a more detailed version of the synopsis of the opera.

Only the best for Lex Luthor: Westin Excelsior, Rome

Grand Canal, Venice Take your pick — every picture is beautiful!

Rialto Bridge, Venice

Palazzo Dario/Ca’ Dario

“Palace Dario is a beautiful palace on the Grand Canal not far from the Salute church. It is finely decorated with many coloured marbles and Istrian stone. It was built for Giovanni Dario, originally from Dalmatia, in 1487 and designed by Pietro Lombardo. From its very earliest beginnings though, the building has been deemed cursed because its owners have all, even up until recent times, have seen cruel deaths. Inscribed on a part of the building, is a message in Latin: “genio urbis joannes dario” in “ sub ruina insidiosa genero” that maybe confirms the curse theory.

Venice, Ca’ Dario curse

Pictures of Palazzo Dario

More information about Palazzo Dario

Venice from the air

Marseilles

Chateau D’If

Inside Chateau D’If, where the boy fell

This is the cafe I’m picturing for the final scene.

Double Jeopardy

By Stopquitdont@bellsouth.net

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: May 2012

Summary: In a world where nothing is what it seems, can our favorite couple find their way home?

I started writing this story two years ago, but the idea developed long ago. It took a while to pull it altogether. I would like to thank everyone who helped with this monster. You know who you are (better than I do <bg>)! Thanks to everyone who read when I posted to the boards and double thanks for the feedback.

I want to give credit to the writer(s) of the movie of the same name. I saw it years ago and felt it could be a jumping point for an L&C story. I was right!

Most of the characters belong to DC Comics- no infringement was intended.

***

Loud applause arose around the bullpen as the young woman smiled widely.

“Very nice, Lane,” Perry White told her as he held up that day’s copy of the Daily Planet. Lois Lane had certainly become a valuable asset to his newsroom in the four short years she’d been on staff. She’d even earned her first Kerth already, even though she’d only been a beat reporter for eighteen months or so. And if things kept going the way they were, she’d take home another of the coveted awards this year.

“Thanks, Perry,” Lois said as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “What I really need is a raise.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you have been chasing that for a while, huh?”

Lois tapped the paper Perry had laid on the desk. “And I think that should be worth something.”

“Me, too.” Perry turned and bellowed for everybody else to get back to work before striding back to his office.

A few more congratulatory remarks were made before Lois settled to tackle her next front page headline. As a beat reporter you were only as good as your next story and she was beginning to be known as the best. Her phone rang and she grabbed it on the second ring.

“Lois Lane?”

“Lois, darling, I’ve been waiting all day to hear your voice.”

“Lex,” she said with a grin. “It’s nice to hear you, too.”

“And will it be equally nice to see me?”

“Of course. When?”

“How’s tonight?”

“Unless something major comes up,” Lois told him.

“Seven?”

“Sounds good.” She looked up when Jimmy Olsen motioned for her. “Lex, I have to go.”

“The news doesn’t stop for our private lives.”

“No, afraid not,” she replied. “Tonight.”

“I will be chomping at the bit until then.”

Lois barely dropped the phone back in the cradle before she was off and running. Jimmy informed her on the way to the elevator that something huge was breaking at EPRAD.

***

Jimmy ran to keep up with Lois as she weaved her way through the crowd outside the space center. A throng of reporters was already there to witness the latest in the on-going saga of the space program. Most recently there had been an attempt to build a station that would hover just outside the atmosphere of Earth. It was the belief of many scientists that such a reality could mean unlimited possibilities for mankind. With the absence of gravity, research in fields only dreamed of before could become a reality. However, the most recent in a long line of accidents and miscalculations had set back the timeline on the project again.

“All right, people,” a man in a white lab coat called as he stepped up to the microphone. “If you’ll quiet down, we’ll inform of you of the latest news.” He waited until he could finally be heard above the hum of voices. “This morning we were given the official okay to release the news that the Space Station Luthor will go up as planned.” Cheers and clapping rose from the crowd.

“I thought the accident set things back?” Lois shouted to be heard.

“Several benefactors stepped forward and their help has allowed us to continue.”

“You mean Lex Luthor?” came another shout.

“Mr. Luthor has always been a major contributor,” was the answer. “Certain other… hindrances have also been taken care of and we’re confident now that the launch can proceed without further delay.”

“You mean people had to be hushed,” was Lois’ sarcastic remark. She knew there had been a lot of people paid to keep quiet about the accidents at EPRAD, even if she’d never been able to prove it. And she’d tried for weeks, but so far every lead had come to a dead end.

“We won’t dignify that with a response, Ms. Lane.” Professor Daitch knew Lois well. When she’d been investigating the ‘incident’, as it had been officially dubbed, the poor man had been hounded relentlessly by numerous news organizations. He hadn’t fared very well against Mad Dog either.

“Now,” another official continued, “we will release an official press announcement. Selected publications and news stations will also be invited to the launch.”

“That’s all for now,” said the first man. Another began passing out the briefs.

“Can you believe this?” Jimmy asked as he read over the paper in his hand. “There’s nothing in here about any of the incidents.”

“Nothing the government does surprises me,” Lois replied as she made her way toward the building.

“Where we going?”

“To get some answers.”

Jimmy shrugged and followed. There was no way they were getting anywhere close to that building, but he’d learned a long time ago that you just didn’t argue with Lois Lane.

***

Jimmy had been right- they’d been unable to get into EPRAD. And when they’d failed to be able to corner any of the scientists, they decided to call it a day and head back to the Planet to do research. But even that hadn’t gone so well.

“I hate to do this, Lois, but I’ve got a date,” Jimmy said as he looked at his watch.

“No problem. We’re not getting anywhere.” Lois, too, glanced at her watch. “Oh, dang!” She shot to her feet, suddenly remembering she’d made plans tonight as well. If she hurried, she’d just make it.

Thank goodness she only lived a few blocks from the Planet. She opted to leave her little hatchback in the parking garage and take the bus, hopping off a block over from her apartment. One day soon she was seriously going have consider trading in that heap of metal for something more stylish. Cutting through the alley in the middle of her block, she went up the back stairs. Five locks later, she was tossing her things on the chair in the corner of her living room.

“Hi, Charlie,” she told her fish as she dropped a few flakes in the odd-shaped bowl. Another glance at her watch told her she only had ten minutes for a shower if she wanted to put on any make-up at all.

Not sure what they were doing to tonight, Lois opted for a cocktail dress, blue with short sleeves. While this wasn’t her first date with Lex, she certainly didn’t want to give him the impression that she wanted to warp their relationship into overdrive either.

Relationship? Did she have a relationship with Lex? They’d gone on nearly two dozen dates over the last couple of months. And while they’d spent so much time together, she felt that she really didn’t know him at all. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked; they had. It was part of her nature to ask questions and she’d asked dozens, all of which he’d answered as honestly as he could. Yet there still seemed to be so much about him she didn’t know.

Did one ever know someone like Lex Luthor? He was a billionaire! A powerful businessman.

And yet he’d asked her out and continued to do so. She was very impressed with him, too. He was an intelligent man, able to carry on a conversation about nearly any subject in the world. He loved the opera, the theater, and jazz. He had his own private cook, a Mr. Belvedere, and a personal assistant. Lois found it flattering that such a worldly man was interested in her.

Too starry-eyed to question it at the moment, Lois had just finished dressing when Lex’s driver called for her. Oh, well, she’d think about his motives later.

***

A week later, Space Station Luthor launched without a hitch. Lois’ research ran dry and she gave up the chase on that story. Perry assigned her to another story that she felt was a waste of her time. It involved a government agency and their belief that aliens might exist.

“This is such bull,” Lois muttered as she picked the lock on a warehouse in Suicide Slum.

“You have to admit, Lois,” Jimmy said as he followed her inside, looking around to make sure they weren’t being followed. “If someone wanted to hide something, what better place to do it than in the middle of this neighborhood?”

Lois chuckled along with her *partner* for the day as her eyes searched her surroundings. Honestly, she had no idea why Perry insisted she needed a partner. She worked alone!

Focusing on her surroundings, she peered at the rows and rows of file cabinets and shelves of… junk! “Look for anything…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah,” she said through another snort of laughter. She chose a file cabinet while Jimmy went straight for the odd-looking pieces of metal lying around. There were tons of files with names of places -— cities, she guessed. “Smallville?” she whispered. “Where the hell is that?” Pulling the file out, she opened it to read what could be so important about a place with such a name. It was in Kansas. “Of course it is,” she mumbled as she read on. “Target landed at… Hey, Jimmy, come here.”

He hurried over to see what she wanted. “Yeah?”

“Are these numbers coordinates?” she asked as she pointed out what she thought was a location.

“Looks like it.” He pulled an object up to show her. “Look at this.” It looked like a globe, but it was made out of some kind of metal she’d never seen before. And it was cool to the touch, extremely cool. “Isn’t that weird?” he asked when her eyes widened on first touch.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“No idea. I found it in that.” He turned and pointed to what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a small spaceship. It appeared to be made of the same sleek metal as the globe, with a large symbol on the nose. The symbol was a makeshift triangle with a stylized ‘s’ in the middle.

“Oh, how rich,” Lois said with a bark of unbelief. “Where do you think they get this stuff?” Jimmy shrugged and went back to his search and she continued to read the file she held. Apparently a ‘target’ landed in Smallville in 1966. Someone listed only as CO believed this target to be the transport vessel of an unknown threat. The file went on to say that because the target vessel was so small it was deduced that there was no way it could have contained a very large specimen, possibly even an infant. Further, it was the belief of an agency known as B39, that the ‘threat’ might have presented itself in the form of a being that closely resembled humans. It was theorized that an infant might have been sent to be raised among the population to later be programmed to call in an invasion force.

“Hey, Jimmy, can you believe they’ve tracked people in a place called Smallville because they think an alien landed there when he was a child?” And they definitely believed it was a male.

“Did they target a specific person?” he asked as he found a small box that was heavier than it looked. Inside was a glowing rock. “Check this out!”

Lois stepped over to where he was, her face taking on the eerie, green glow of the clump inside the box. “What is that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied as he snapped more pictures. He’d already taken dozens. There was no way he’d get out of this place without getting the goods before he left.

A loud clack echoed through the large building causing them both to look toward the entrance.

“We need to get out of here,” Jimmy deduced as he shoved the round globe he’d found into his pocket. When Lois arched a brow at him, he shrugged. “Who knows when you might need a little leverage?” He closed the box on the odd rock, and then he and Lois headed toward the back to see if they could find another way out.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to S.T.A.R. Labs. One of the scientists there had become a very good confidant to Lois during an investigation last year and had since proven to be a trusted friend. They wanted him to analyze the strange globe.

***

“Are we doing the right thing?”

Her wide blue eyes begged for him to tell her this was the only choice they had. “It’s the right thing,” he assured her and leaned to kiss her lips softly. “You’d never be happy unless you did this.”

“I know,” she said and glanced down to where her hands gripped his sides. “No regrets?”

“Lana, we’ve had a good life together. But the fates have other plans for us now.”

“I know,” she repeated the same words. It was all she knew to say. “One day the world will know how great you are.”

“And you,” he said as he smiled at her. “Go save the world.”

For the first time since they’d met to say good-bye, she smiled back at him. “I’ll always love you, Clark.”

“I love you, too,” he replied, kissing her one last time. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as she pulled away and climbed aboard the train. She was bound for Asia and for greatness herself. Lana Lang was a brilliant researcher and she’d isolated a strain of bacteria believed to be responsible for a raging virus threatening to kill half the population in southern China. With the isolation of the deadly substance, Lana was needed to help put together an inoculation to fight the disease. She’d already helped mix a vaccine to protect those not yet infected.

She had been Clark Kent’s high school sweetheart. They’d continued a long-distance relationship during college. When he’d graduated from Mid-West, he’d gone to be with her while she finished medical school in California, taking odd jobs where he could. Being in a large city had helped him with his… uniqueness. But in the end, it still hadn’t been enough. His own ambitions and aspirations were calling to him so loudly he couldn’t ignore them. Once again, they’d maintained a relationship across the miles as he traveled a bit to hopefully appease his desires. Then it was Lana who was needed. In the end, they’d decided that it was better for them both to move on. They’d known for some time that the fire that had once danced between them had faded into the pleasant glow of friendship.

And they were okay with that.

Lana waved at Clark as the train pulled away from the station. He smiled and waved back. Sure, he loved her and always would, but as a close friend. When she was gone, he turned and headed back toward town. He was off to South America tomorrow to cover a story about arms smuggling. With any luck, and this story, he’d have a desk at the Daily Planet before the end of the year.

***

Lex Luthor stood on his balcony looking out over his city.

And it *was* his city.

“Sir, the doctor says things are going better than planned.”

“Excellent.” Lex turned and smiled at Nigel. “And dinner? Does Andre have it in hand?”

“It might be his best yet,” the older man told him with an emotionless English accent.

“Is my lovely date on the way?”

“Coming up as we speak.”

“Even better.” Lex loosened the belt on his smoking jacket with an evil leer. Tonight was going to be a very good night.

***

The first thing Lois was aware of when she woke up the following morning was that she had the worst headache of her life. She rolled over onto her back, threw an arm over her eyes, and groaned. How much champagne had she drunk? Beside her the bed moved and she froze. She wasn’t alone!

Refusing to open her eyes for fear of what, or who, she might see, she became aware of another very disturbing situation. She was naked!

“Good morning, dear,” came a masculine voice as it drew closer to her. A bit of relief washed over her when she recognized the voice. It belonged to Lex.

She shifted her arm enough to confirm the voice was indeed Lex’s. He was grinning widely at her and kissed her shoulder, her bare shoulder.

“Did you sleep well?” Another kiss on her shoulder.

Panic like she’d never known washed through her as her mind searched to recall the events of the night before.

She was blank. Totally blank.

Lex kissed her neck. “You were incredible last night.” His voice was husky and even through her haze she couldn’t mistake the reactions of his body now.

Suddenly it was all too much. She sat bolt upright, her eyes searching the room frantically. They were definitely in his room. She’d seen it once, when he’d given her a complete tour of his home.

“Lois, what’s wrong?” Lex asked as he sat up next to her.

“Lex,” she managed as her eyes met his. He stared at her with concern and… was that annoyance? Or…?

She looked away, again trying to figure out what was wrong with this picture. “I, I…” she stammered as she threw her legs over the edge of the bed, careful to hold the covers tightly around her naked body. “I don’t remember what happened last night,” she managed quietly after a moment.

When she turned, Lex was standing beside the bed. She jerked her head away quickly because he was obviously not very ashamed of his state of undress. “Well, you were a bit… How do I say?” He’d pulled on his pants and he looked over at her and smiled. “You had a few drinks.”

“And you took advantage of that?” Anger replaced the confusion and she shot to her feet.

Lex had the grace to look scandalized. “I assure you, I did not take advantage of you. You were very willing.”

“How could you tell if I was drunk?” Her voice had risen to just below a shout.

“You were far from drunk,” he insisted. Now he was the one who seemed to be getting upset. She was accusing him of unspeakable things and he didn’t appreciate it. “Surely after all this time you know me better than that?”

Was he right? They’d been seeing each other for nearly four months now. He wouldn’t have taken advantage of her.

Would he?

“I’ll let you get dressed and call for breakfast.” He threw on his robe and left her alone.

“What’s wrong with you, Lane?” she asked herself as she slipped into her… clean clothes. Cleaned, pressed clothes.

What did Lex do? Call for Nigel or Mrs. Cox to take her things out once they were in bed? Her eyes widened at that thought.

Surely not.

As she dressed she searched her mind again for what happened the night before. Dinner- she remembered dinner. They’d danced, they’d laughed, she’d sung for Lex. She remembered a kiss- a kiss she had initiated. There had been more kisses.

And he’d opened a bottle of champagne. They’d toasted to the future. She’d had a glass and a second one. After that…

Nothing!

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. And as she did, she began to calm. By the time she made it out to the dining room, Lex had breakfast set out.

“Lex, I’m really sorry I accused you of anything.”

“It’s okay, my dear.” He held her chair as she sat down. “Let’s have breakfast and make plans to visit the country soon. You told me last night you’d like to go horseback riding.”

As he sat down, she recalled telling him that. Maybe the night was coming back after all. She took a drink of her juice, deciding that there were probably worse things than being Lex Luthor’s lover.

Over the rim of his own glass, Lex smiled- just enough to be noticeable- as he watched Lois drink her orange juice. Soon. Very soon, he thought as he watched her swallow.

***

Perry had watched his best reporter for over a month now. There was no doubt about it- there was definitely something wrong with Lois. He’d first noticed when she had come in the newsroom one morning with glassy eyes and the calmest demeanor he could ever remember from the feisty little woman. Since then, her fire had almost completely burnt out. She’d lost her edge, unable to produce a front-page article in five long weeks. And within the past week, she’d been unable to produce anything. The clincher was when she came to work this morning and handed in her resignation.

“Dr. Lane’s on line two, Chief,” Jimmy said as he stuck his head in the door.

Snatching up the receiver, Perry didn’t waste time. “There’s something wrong with Lois, Dr. Lane.” He’d tried to talk to her, but she’d kept telling him she was fine; things were fine. Then he’d moved on to bullying her as her boss, but that had caused her to back away more. Now this! Somebody had to tell him something pretty darn quick.

“Mr. White, I assure you Lois is fine. She’s getting married next week.”

“What?!” That was the first Perry had heard of that.

“She and Lex will wed next week in a private ceremony in New York. This is what she wants, Perry.”

A glance at the young woman packing her things told him that there was no way this could be what she wanted. Perry knew Lois better than anyone, especially her father. Hell, the man on the phone hadn’t seen her in three years until last week. Lois loved her job, or she had. The fire, the spunk- there was no way Lois was in her right state of mind. She was too docile!

She certainly wasn’t acting like a woman in love, either. And why had the infamous doctor surfaced after so long? Not to mention his new and sudden interest in his daughter. He’d been in the newsroom three times since making his reappearance.

“Mr. White, are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Listen, I’ll get back to you.” He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. Perry walked over to the glass and tapped to get Jimmy’s attention. The young man hurried into the room.

“Watcha’ need, Chief?”

“I need you to go get that hotshot new kid from research and you two get back here. I have a huge assignment for you.” He never took his eyes off Lois as she finished her packing. Without a second glance, she picked up her box of things and turned to leave. If no one else thought her behavior odd, Perry certainly did. And he would prove it. There was something going on with Lois and Luthor and when he was finished digging for the truth, everyone would know it, too.

“So help me, Luthor, if you’ve done something to her,” the editor mumbled as he watched the elevator doors close on the young woman he’d come to see as the daughter he’d never had.

***

Clark couldn’t help but whistle as he walked down the sidewalk toward the Daily Planet. All of that traveling, all of that chasing story after story, lead after lead, had finally paid off. He’d hopped the globe in search of the largest stories so that he’d be able to prove he deserved a desk on the newsroom floor of the greatest newspaper in the world.

Of course, he’d also hopped the globe for other reasons, too. Reasons that had kept him from being able to settle for very long in any one place. But he’d figured out just a few short weeks ago how to handle those reasons as well.

He stopped in front of a news rack and grinned widely at the man on the front page of the Planet. Dressed in blue with a red flowing cape, Superman had become a fixture in the skies above the city, and even a few places around the world. The creation of an alter ego gave him an opportunity to use the abilities he’d developed to help those in need without losing himself in the process.

Another grin appeared as he completed his journey into the lobby and took the stairs up to the newsroom floor. Most papers he’d worked in around the country and the world stuck the newsroom on the bottom floor, sometimes as high as the fifth. Not the Daily Planet, though. As far as he knew, no other paper in the world placed their newsroom on the top floor. And as he stepped out into the hustle and flow he’d come to crave, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath. There was nothing quite like the smell of ink in the morning.

Clark quickly found the editor’s office and knocked softly. A gruff voice called for him to enter. Inside was the man he’d looked up to since college. “Mr. White?”

“Yeah. You Kent?” the man asked without lifting his head from the print he was editing.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, causing the other man to raise his head. “It’s an honor to meet you.” Clark crossed the room and held out his hand.

Perry rose and shook the offered limb. “An honor, huh? You kissin’ up already?”

It took a moment before Clark realized the man was toying with him. He had the grace to blush, but still said, “Would it help?”

“Well, it might,” Perry replied as he sat down again. He leaned back and studied the young man carefully.

“I brought samples,” Clark told him as he lifted his briefcase.

The editor waved him off. “Now what kind of editor would I be if I hadn’t seen your work by now?” Again Clark blushed. “Come on, Kent. You’re an international sensation in the reporting world. I wish I’d taken a chance on you the first time you applied.”

“I have to admit, that rejection is why I’ve worked so hard the last few years,” Clark said as he shifted in his seat.

“Does that mean you’ll slack off if I give you the job?”

“Not a chance,” Clark assured him. “I intend to set the city on fire.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Perry leaned forward and picked up a file. “This is the offer I’m making.”

Clark reached out to take the file and opened it slowly to read the contents. “Wow! This is very generous.”

“Yeah, well, I expect you to produce front-page material within the first week.”

“Does that mean I have the job?”

Perry rose and walked around in front of his desk, glancing out at the empty chair on the floor. The suits downstairs had forced him to fill it. He’d held it, as long as he could. But even he had to admit that it was time. Focusing on the young man in front of him, he smiled, the first one since Kent had entered his office. “Welcome to the Daily Planet.” He thrust his hand out again and received a strong, enthusiastic shake.

“Thank you, sir. You won’t be disappointed,” Clark said as he stood so that his eyes were level with Perry’s.

“No, I’m sure I won’t.”

And he wouldn’t. Perry had wanted to hire Kent for a while now- had almost hired him before Lois quit.

That thought made him sigh heavily. He didn’t like to think about her. It was just too damn disheartening.

He gave Kent another once-over with his usual critical eye. He’d do, Perry decided. The man was young, hungry and the best journalist since…

Well, no doubt there would be another reporting sensation at the Planet before long.

***

Clark looked up for the third time in five minutes. The young man three desks down kept staring at him and it was beginning to unsettle him. When he’d felt he’d had enough, he pushed to his feet and closed the distance between them.

“Excuse me?” Clark said softly. When he’d first stood, the other man had lowered his head like he was busy on his computer. Clark knew better though. The poor guy’s heart was thundering against his chest

“Yeah?” he asked without stopping his typing.

“Did I do something wrong?” The man’s fingers stopped and he slowly turned to look at Clark. “You keep staring at me. I’ve looked several times, but I couldn’t find a single crumb.”

The man stared at him for a moment before he laughed softly. “No crumbs. “ He glanced back at Clark’s desk. “The woman that used to sit at your desk was a good friend. It’s just strange seeing another person sitting there.”

His expression softened and he smiled sadly. “I understand. Should I move?”

The other guy stared at the now-occupied desk for a long while before he smiled. “No. I just needed to say good-bye.” He stood and stuck out his hand. “Jimmy Olsen.”

Clark shook the proffered hand, a bit more at ease with the scrutiny he’d been getting all morning. “Clark Kent.”

“Anybody who’s anybody knows of your work.”

A blush tainted Clark’s cheeks from the praise. He’d had to get used to that lately. Being good at what you do seemed to earn quite a bit of recognition. “Thank you.” He looked back at his workstation. “I just hope I can live up the legacy of the woman that once sat at that desk.” Clark, too, had heard of Lois Lane. She had been an inspiration and another reason he had wanted to work at the Daily Planet.

“Yeah, well, she was one of a kind.” Jimmy missed Lois so much that it hurt. She’d been gone for nearly six months and it still didn’t get any better. “But enough of that,” he managed after a second. “How ‘bout we grab a beer after work?”

“Not tonight, Jimmy. We have a meeting,” Perry told the young man as he walked up behind Clark.

“Oh, damn! And I have some research I need to get together for you.” He clapped Clark’s shoulder. “Let’s pick a day next week, Clark.” And he was gone.

Clark watched as Jimmy hurried toward the back of the newsroom before focusing on Perry. The man was standing there looking a bit anxious about something. “Is there anything wrong, Mr. White?”

Perry scratched his head a second, then motioned for Clark to follow him into his office. Once inside he grabbed a file off of his desk. “This is a bit of research on an organization that is elusive in most circles. I just got these notes from a friend of mine down in Interpol. I was asking about something else entirely and he sent me this. See what you can find out for me?”

“You got it.” Clark reached to grasp the file, but Perry didn’t let go. His eyes met the older man’s and he waited for him to continue.

“This is hush-hush, you hear? Come only to me with this and don’t mention you’re working on it to anyone.”

“Not a problem.”

“Good.” Perry finally released the file and waved the young man from the room.

Clark looked back in time to see Perry rub the back of his neck. Was it his imagination or was the man looking a bit ragged today? Of course, the shadows he’d seen in the man’s eyes the day before when he was hired kind of spooked him. He’d never seen a person look quite so haggard.

He sat down at his desk and opened the file in front of him. “Wow!” he said to himself as he read the contents. Perry sure thrust the big guns at him. Glancing at the editor again, he couldn’t help but wonder what the man wanted with research on the Delconto Organization. Being able to travel the way he’d done over the last few years, and his ability to blend in, had allowed him to see and hear things most people couldn’t. Of course, his hearing and eyesight was a bit better than most, too.

The Delconto Organization was projected as the largest international trade business in the world. It was also rumored to be the largest crime syndicate. According to the file, Interpol, FBI, CIA, ATF, and DEA all believed the group to be trading much more than commercial and consumer goods. No one knew for sure exactly who ran the group, but every law agency in the world would love to have absolute confirmation and proof to bring down that empire. Juan Delconto had started the business back in the fifties, but since then it had changed hands. Of course, law enforcement believed the exchange was for purposes of detection. And Juan Delconto had passed away in the eighties. So…

Where did he start with such a large undertaking? The CEO of the company, the legal arm, was listed as Leslie Luckaby. Luckaby was a young Australian businessman who had inherited the company from his grandfather, Frank Luckaby.

That was as good a place as any to get started, Clark mused as he called up the research engine on his computer. It should be easy enough to document the legal aspects of the organization. Once that was done, he’d branch out from there to see where the not-so-legal aspects seemed to lead. It was his experience that crime syndicates often set up legal businesses to cover for the illegal activities going on behind the scenes. A man, or several, was often chosen to be the front man, and most of the time, the fall guy when things began to unravel. Whoever controlled the Delconto Organization was very meticulous because apparently it had been operating since the fifties without coming apart. That meant they were extremely careful or that a lot of money exchanged hands to make sure they were always a step ahead of the law. The latter was probably more correct and if so, an investigation of any kind could throw up flags, giving the group time to cover their tracks again.

A few minutes later he took his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. The heaps of information he’d found already told him it was going to be a long day.

***

Lex stared down at the woman lying on the bed. Her brown eyes were full of pain, the sweat beading on her face. She screamed out as another contraction wracked her body. “You can have something as soon as you’re done,” he assured her. “Are you certain there will be no affects on the baby?” he asked the doctor standing beside him.

“None. I’ve run all of the tests myself.”

“That’s what I pay you for.” Lex crossed his arms and watched as the woman struggled in her agony. He was enjoying this- watching her, knowing she was in pain. There was pleasure in knowing another suffered. It made him feel powerful, even more so than usual.

“Why don’t you help her?” asked the nurse at the woman’s side.

“Help her what? I can’t have the damn kid for her,” was his sarcastic reply.

Another yell and the midwife announced that was enough. Slowly the baby eased into the world. A few wipes, a clean nose and mouth, then a soft cry filled the room. The woman let out a long, deep breath.

“What?” the mother asked. She hadn’t known the child’s sex; it had been denied her.

“It’s… it’s…” The older woman looked up at Luthor with wide, horrified eyes.

“What?” he demanded angrily.

“Sir, it’s a girl.” And she turned around to hold the baby up so he could see for himself.

“That’s impossible!” He glared down at the child as if she were an offending object. His eyes shot back to the doctor. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” the man insisted nervously. “The tests revealed a male.” The tests *had* revealed a male… along with a female. But Luthor didn’t need to know that bit of information.

Just then the woman screamed out in pain again. The midwife passed off the baby girl to a nurse and focused her attention back on the laboring mother. “There’s another baby!”

“Yes,” Lex breathed, an evil smile crossing his face. “Hurry up,” he ordered. “Bring my son into this world!” He watched, complete satisfaction in his expression, as another baby was born. “There he is,” he announced as he saw for himself that this baby was indeed a boy.

“I’ll be damned,” uttered the doctor as he moved over to examine the other baby. He glanced at Lex out of the corner of his eye to make sure his act had the desired effect. “This is quite a surprise.” He hoped his duplicity didn’t show.

“You didn’t know?” Luthor asked as he moved a bit closer.

“Not a clue,” he lied as the examination continued for several minutes before the child was pronounced completely healthy.

“Excellent!” Lex turned to leave, but a soft voice stopped him.

“May I see them?”

Walking back over, Lex glared down at the woman. “You’ve impressed me today. And that’s not easy to do,” he said to the woman. He looked up at the nurse. “Give her some painkillers.” With the briefest of touches, he smoothed her hair back off her head. “When you wake, you can feed my son.”

“I’d like to see them now.” She grasped his jacket. “Please, Lex.”

He stared at her for a moment before he nodded. “Just a second. He needs his rest.”

The nurse brought the baby boy over so that the child’s mother could see him. “He’s gorgeous,” she said.

“Of course. He’s my son,” Lex boasted, then waved to have the child taken away.

“And the girl?” Another nod and the child was brought over.

“Look at her. She’s amazing,” the mother crooned.

She missed the expression on Lex’s face. “Now, time to rest.”

“Thank you,” the woman told him.

“It’s the least I could do for the mother of my son,” he said and managed a smile. “Now, go to sleep, Lois.” And he snapped his fingers so that the waiting nurse would bring the drugs forward to render his wife helpless. It was how he preferred her to be, but with the pregnancy it had been almost impossible. She’d been kept calm, only with just enough juice that wouldn’t harm his unborn son. Once she was out, he turned and strode from the room.

“I hear congratulations are in order, sir,” Nigel told Lex as he followed him into his office. He’d been waiting just outside the birthing room.

“Yes, Nigel. He’s quite the little man.” A fair amount of pride oozed from his voice as he lit a cigar. “But we have a problem. The bitch had the audacity to spit out a female brat!”

“Well, that’s… most…”

“Unfortunate,” Lex finished for him.

“How awful,” Nigel added.

“Yes, quite.” Lex drew from his stogy before he turned and looked out of the window.

“I would be more than happy to take her,” came another voice as he entered the room.

Lex turned back to see the doctor in the doorway.

“The research potential,” he put in. “These children are the first of their kind,” he pointed out.

“Yes, yes.” Luthor sat down and studied his desk for a while before he looked up at the other men in the room. “I think I should keep her for now. She could possibly come in handy later.”

The doctor was disappointed, but he knew better than to argue with Lex Luthor. One tended to become unhealthy very quickly if he did.

“Nigel, I will need a competent caregiver.”

“By nightfall,” he told his employer and disappeared, much the way he usually did when Lex said he needed something.

“Are we online?” Lex asked the doctor.

“Everything is going as planned. The tests have all documented his strength and speed. I’ve got initial results on his vulnerability as well.”

“And have you found anything that can keep him docile?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I’m sure there’s something.”

“I want it found!” Lex snapped, his face clearly expressing his position.

The doctor had to swallow hard. Luthor expected perfection, as he always did. “It will be done,” he assured him finally.

“Good.” He turned his chair around so that he could stare out at his city, effectively dismissing the doctor. In a matter of months, he’d not only have Metropolis in the palms of his hands, he’d have the world.

Outside in the corridor, the doctor stopped and leaned against the wall to take a deep breath, his evil grin wider than Luthor’s. Few men had ever actually gotten the upper hand on Lex Luthor. He had done it. Not once, but several times. Although there was the risk of Luthor finding out, he was clearly proud of his accomplishment. With any luck, by the time Luthor could sort out this mess, he would be drinking mixed drinks on white sands of some deserted beach halfway around the world and Lex Luthor would be a memory.

***

Clark had spent every spare moment over the last two weeks trying to find out what he could about the Delconto Organization. The more he learned, the more confused he became.

Frank Luckaby was the CEO until his death four years earlier. On paper, every aspect of his empire was completely legal. There was not so much as a single report from any agency that believed Frank had been anything other than what he was supposed to be. All research told Clark the man was squeaky clean. When he passed away, his grandson inherited the infamous organization.

Clark learned that Leslie was the grandchild of Frank and Erin Luckaby. He was the son of Alexander Luckaby, the only child of the elder Luckaby. There was tons of information on Leslie since he’d taken power, although very little before that. Born in Australia in 1971, he was secreted away to boarding school at the age of ten. There he was apparently groomed to take his place at the helm of the family empire. He’d been a star athlete in college, graduated with honors, and was a notorious playboy. More recent information mostly consisted of his various business ties and associations. Leslie appeared just as legit as his grandfather had. Where things got interesting was when Clark tried to find information about Leslie’s father, Alexander.

Alexander Luckaby was born in 1954 in France, making him only eighteen years old when his own son was born. He’d married just months before Leslie was born in the Bahamas. Ariana Carlin was nearly five years older than Leslie and just as rich and powerful. Apparently Alexander was not very interested in following in his father’s footsteps because he moved from the family home in 1975 to their estate in France, where he began setting up an investment company. There was nothing else about Alexander after 1984. He went on a trip with his father to Ecuador and never returned. There was no death certificate or any other information about him after that. It was as if he just disappeared off the face of the earth.

“Weird,” Clark said to himself. Maybe it was time to take a trip out to Australia. He could nose around a bit, super style. Of course whatever he saw or heard couldn’t be proven very easily, but he’d at least be able to understand what direction he should go in from here.

***

Perry threw the paper across the room, effectively scattering it all over the floor. He actually felt ill.

“Ah, Chief, do you need us to come back?”

He looked up to see Jimmy and Clark standing in the doorway, no doubt taken aback by his outburst. When he tossed the paper, he’d done it vocally. Not usually one to use overly colorful words, today warranted much more than that. “Just give me a minute,” he finally managed as he dropped his head over on his propped up hands. He’d never felt quite as old as he did today.

Jimmy had picked the paper up and closed the door. “This is what she wanted, Perry,” he told the older man in a defeated tone.

“How the hell does she know what she wants, Jimmy?” Perry shouted without lifting his head. “She’s so doped up she doesn’t even know who she is!”

Clark stuffed his hands in his pockets when Jimmy gave him a pained expression. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was sure he’d find out, eventually. When Jimmy laid the paper on Perry’s desk, he couldn’t help but notice the picture of Lois Lane, on the front page of the Metropolis Star. Apparently she’d had a baby.

“You know we don’t know that for sure,” Jimmy said as he sat on the edge of Perry’s desk.

“I know that!” the man said as he lifted his eyes, more conviction behind his green orbs than he’d ever had. “I know her,” he repeated again as he stood to his feet. “She didn’t do this. None of it. And I don’t want to ever hear you say different again.” He pointed a warning finger at the man.

Jimmy had the grace to look thoroughly chastised. “Sorry, Chief.”

“Yeah, well, you know how I feel, boy,” he said in a slightly softer tone. Perry rifled through several papers before looking back up at the two men. “I need you two to cover that big shindig Luthor’s holding tonight to celebrate the return of the occupants of the Space Station.”

“Ah, Perry, maybe we should trust Clark and…” He looked at his editor with a serious expression. “… bring him all the way into the investigation?”

Perry glanced over at Clark. The man had been at the Planet less than two months, but he’d already proven himself to be completely competent and more than trustworthy. And he was the best investigative reporter he’d seen since Lois. They could use his help. “Yeah,” he said as he met Jimmy’s gaze again. “Maybe it’s time.”

Jimmy nodded and the editor walked around his desk to lean against the front. “Clark, as you know Lois Lane was a reporter for the Planet up until just over ten months ago. One of the fiercest, driven women I’d ever had the pleasure and privilege to have work for me, this girl was also easily the most frustrating, too. Pigheaded…”

“Stubborn,” Jimmy added with a slight smile.

“Single-minded and absolutely brilliant,” Perry continued. “There wasn’t a story this girl couldn’t crack.”

“I’ve read her work,” Clark spoke up when there was a lull in Perry’s tale.

“Reading it and seeing her actually work are two totally different things,” Jimmy said, a look of awe on his face.

“Yeah,” Perry agreed as he smiled back at the younger man. “Well, things were on the fast track for Lois. She’d won a Kerth, was a shoe-in for another- which she subsequently won, by the way.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Then she starts to lose her drive and waltzed in here one day, handed in her resignation, and walked out. She was married the next week and now…” He lifted the paper on his desk. “She’s had a baby.”

Clark’s eyes shifted to the paper again before focusing on his boss. “And you think things weren’t quite right about her marriage and pregnancy?”

“I *know* things weren’t right!” Perry bellowed, causing Clark to raise his brows in surprise.

“Perry believes her *husband* did something to her,” Jimmy put in, a note of disgust in his tone.

“I’m telling you, Jimmy, she was fried the day she came in here telling me she’d found her life’s partner.” The man gestured with his fingers, remembering clearly what Lois said to him that day. “You forget I’ve got a boy that was an addict. I know what it looks like.”

“So you two started an investigation to prove things weren’t right with Ms. Lane?”

Both of the other men laughed at the name Clark referred to Lois as. “Son,” Perry began, “I do love to hear her still referred to by her maiden name.” He placed the paper he held back on the desk. “Me and Jimmy and Jack have been working on this relentlessly, but…” He held up his hands in defeat before letting them fall to his sides again. “We can’t so much as find a fly in that man’s penthouse.”

“Penthouse?”

Jimmy looked at Clark like he had two heads. “You don’t know who she married?”

“Ah, sorry. I was more interested in her abilities as a reporter.”

Perry laughed out loud as he reached forward to clap Clark’s shoulder. “Damn, I really like you, boy.”

“Told you he was one of kind, Chief.”

“So you did.” Just then a knock sounded on the door. Perry motioned for the other man to enter. “Clark, you do know Jack?”

“Yes. He’s done some research for me a time or two.” He smiled at Jack.

“CK’s a great guy.” Jack plopped down in the chair beside the man he’d just mentioned. “You won’t believe what I’ve found, Chief.” He glanced up at Clark, exchanging a look with his boss at the same time.

“He’s good, son. We were just letting him in on things. Jimmy thinks he could help us.”

“Well, I sure wish someone would,” Jack said.

“You found something?” Jimmy urged.

“Lois didn’t give birth to just a baby boy. She gave birth to twins- a boy and a girl.”

Perry and Jimmy stared down at the boy with stunned expressions. “What?” the editor managed after a moment.

“My source tells me the girl was born first and Luthor was furious. He looked like he was about to unleash hell in the room, then bam!” Jack slapped his hands together. “The boy was born.”

“But there’s no mention of a girl in the announcement,” Jimmy said, still stunned by this revelation.

“Yeah, well, there’s a baby girl in that penthouse.”

All of the men were quiet for a long moment before Clark spoke. “I hate to interrupt here, but you never mentioned who her husband is.”

“Damn. And you call yourself an award-winning journalist,” came Jack’s smart remark.

“You have to overlook Jack,” Perry spoke up. “He says exactly what’s on his mind.” He pushed the other man’s chair with his foot.

“I like honest,” Clark admitted.

“He’s certainly that,” Jimmy added. “Lois married Lex Luthor.”

“The billionaire savior of the city?” At their ‘I can’t believe you said that’ looks, he had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry, I was just repeating all those press releases. Personally, I suspect a man in his position didn’t get that way by totally legal means.”

When Perry looked at Jimmy with a smile, the younger man gave him an ‘I told you so’ expression.

“Isn’t he at least twenty years older than Ms. Lane?” Clark asked another question that was on his mind.

Jack snickered. “At least. I believed Perry on that reason alone. Why would a knockout like Lane marry an old codger like Luthor? I mean, damn!”

Jimmy shuddered along with Jack. “So, you in?” he asked Clark.

“What exactly am I agreeing to?”

“We want the dirt on Luthor. We want to prove he’s done something to Lois. And we want to get her away from him.” Perry said that as if it should be obvious.

“What about Lois’ family?” Clark wanted to know. Surely if there was something amiss with Lois, her family would be first to help them with their campaign.

“Her mother died when she was sixteen. Her sister’s a junkie and we think her father’s on Luthor’s payroll,” Jack let him know.

“Dr. Sam Lane?” Clark asked in surprise.

“You know him?” Perry wanted to know.

“I know of him. Sam is one of the most respected orthopaedic doctors in the country. He’s developed a line of prosthetics for athletes that are being heralded as the most advanced of the kind.”

Jimmy went around Perry’s desk and opened a bottom drawer. He retrieved a file and thrust it toward Clark when he made it back to the front of the desk.

Clark was thumbing through the contents when Perry spoke. “Lane Center for Sports Therapy received a generous influx of funding the day before Lois announced she was leaving the Planet.”

“We’ve been unable to trace the money or contact Sam since,” Jimmy finished. “He was at the wedding- there were pictures.”

“But I haven’t even been able to see him at his practice,” Jack told him. “And believe me. I can see things most people can’t.”

Clark glanced at Jack. Did he have super vision, too?

“He used to be a petty thief,” Jimmy explained as he slapped the back of the younger man’s head.

“My talents help your butt out, don’t they?” Jack and Jimmy exchanged a few friendly punches before Perry cleared his throat.

“Things aren’t right and I just want to prove it.”

Clark finally lifted his eyes from the file to his boss. “Has anyone tried to acquire some kind of legal papers to get Lois out of there?”

“Perry’s tried everything,” Jimmy told him. “But being as how he only had a hunch to go on that she was drugged…” The man stopped speaking and shrugged.

“How about seeing Ms. Lane?”

“Ha!” Perry barked. “I’ve been run out of Lex Towers so many times… I think the only reason he hasn’t had me arrested for trespassing is because of the bad press it would cause him. And with all the hype surrounding the Space Station, the last thing he needs is the editor of the largest newspaper in the world making waves for him.”

“Why haven’t you just done that anyway?” was Clark’s next question.

“Well, a man in my position can’t make accusations about such a powerful man and expect to keep his job.”

“Yeah, I guess that would be committing professional suicide.”

“Not to mention the fact that we feel Luthor is the devil,” Jack spoke up. “The devil is feared for a reason. People tick him off and they disappear.”

Clark didn’t doubt that. If the man was evil enough to drug a woman to get her to marry him, he was capable of anything.

“And I can accomplish much more from here,” Perry added.

Clark nodded in agreement. He hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Lois Lane, but he felt he knew her a bit through her work. Out of respect for a fellow reporter, he’d help all he could. “I’ll help all I can.”

“No trails,” Perry said with pointed finger. “Strictly hush-hush. When we bring that bastard down, we want it to be a total surprise.”

“Got it.” Clark rose and motioned toward the door. “I think Jimmy and I have an appointment tonight.”

Perry and his newest reporter shared a look that put the older man completely at ease. He’d chosen well. Kent would help them get to the bottom of this situation once and for all.

***

Clark and Jimmy stood near the entrance to the balcony on the south side of the conference room at EPRAD. Six of the thirteen occupants of the Space Station Luthor had returned earlier that day. They’d made their public appearance, giving a brief narrative of their time in space. Now everyone was taking advantage of the party Luthor had arranged to celebrate their success. Initial research performed aboard the station offered promising results.

“There he is.” Jimmy nudged Clark as Lex Luthor entered the room. “I would love to wipe that arrogant smile off his face.”

“Let’s do it legally, Jimbo.” Clark clapped his shoulder to help calm the younger man. Since he’d been invited into the investigation earlier, he’d given a lot of thought to the man they were dealing with. He’d also combed through a few stories he’d come across in his time at the Planet, and now that he looked deeper, he felt that a mysterious ‘Boss’ referred to by several petty law breakers could be Luthor.

Clark had to give it to Luthor- if he really was the ‘Boss’- what better disguise than to hide in plain sight?

With that thought, he had to roll his eyes. He, of all people, knew how effective such a disguise was.

And none of that was doing him a bit of good right now.

“Should we divide and conquer?” Jimmy asked him after a moment.

“Yeah.” He went one way and Jimmy the other. He listened carefully to any conversation that might help them, but most revolved around the space exploration. He was careful to tuck enough information away so they’d have enough for an article for the morning edition.

“Clark?”

He turned and was surprised to see a familiar face from his past. “Lana!”

“It is you,” she said with a smile and immediately stepped up to give him a fierce hug. “How are you?”

“I’m great. And you?” He glanced down at her. “You look amazing.”

“So do you.” She fingered the bow tie of his tux.

She’d always loved him in a tux, he recalled as he smiled at her praise. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you.”

“How’s the job?”

“Fantastic. I worked freelance for a couple months before being hired on at the Planet.”

“I know. I’ve read your stuff. As good as I always knew your writing would be.”

Again he smiled, and used it as a cover to locate Luthor. He was still chatting with various people in the crowd. “How did things go in China?”

“They went well. We stopped the spread of the bacteria and even isolated the source.”

“I knew you could do it.” He reached out and squeezed her elbow. As much as he’d missed his friend, he really wanted to be anywhere but here with her now. He needed to be listening in on Luthor’s conversations and watching his moves. “And now?” he managed after another quick peek at the elusive billionaire.

“I was asked to join the research team on the space station.”

His brows rose in surprise. Only the top scientists and doctors in the world were invited aboard. “Wow! And to think I once dated a famous doctor.”

“Hush,” she said, blushing from his praise. She noticed his eyes travel around the room for the third time. “Are you working?”

Meeting her gaze, he gave her an apologetic expression. “Sorry. Does it show that badly?”

“It does. You’re usually more focused when we talk.”

“Let me make it up to you by taking you to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Why not join me for dinner at my parents’ house instead? Mother and Daddy are both off to who knows where and I’d really like to stay in.”

“Name the time.”

“Seven.” She looked down at her watch. “Speaking of time, I have a debriefing in ten minutes.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on Clark’s cheek. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t. It was good seeing you, Lana.” She grinned at him widely before hurrying across the room. He sighed once she was gone, then searched for Luthor again. He’d moved off to one side to speak to a couple of men, so Clark tuned his hearing in so that he could find out what was going on. The noise of the crowd was too loud for him to make out what they were saying, but Luthor looked angry with whatever the taller man had told him. After a brief exchange, they all left through the back door leading toward the parking area.

As discreetly as possible, Clark slipped out so that he could follow. Peering from behind a generator at the side of the building, Clark could see Luthor, the gray gentleman that had been inside, a darker haired man, also from inside, and two other men that had been waiting on them outside. He recognized the other men as Bill Church, Sr., another of Metropolis’ wealthy philanthropists, and his son Bill, Jr. He tuned in his hearing to listen.

“Luthor, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t like it.”

“Game? This is no game! I have perfected the research.”

“I cannot stake my reputation without proof.”

Bill Sr. was the CEO of Cost Mart, a national wholesale chain. He was also on the board of directors of Church Pharmaceutical. Their specialty was the manufacture of many different kinds of medicines. Some of the experiments conducted there had even led to breakthroughs in several fields. Clark had recently learned that a few could make common ailments such as earache and sore throat non-existent. Of course, that was the legal and moral side of the company. Word on the street was that Church’s lab conducted experiments in mind control. Those experiments, along with others he was rumored to have conducted, were not so honorable.

“I have proof. I’ve had my top scientist working on this for years.” He dug through his jacket and pulled out a card. “Come by tomorrow at noon. You can see for yourself.”

Bill took the card sceptically. “If what you say is true, then we can start the research. But must I remind you that my lab has done this several times? Each one has ended the same way.”

“Believe me, Church, I’m well aware of those experiments. But your little creatures were created in petri dishes. Mine were conceived, carried like a normal pregnancy, and delivered just like the next crumb catcher. Can you say that?”

“You know we can’t, Lex,” the older Church said.

“And can you say you’ve created twins in your *lab*?” Luthor busied himself for a moment lighting a cigar. “Believe me, Bill, these things are incredible. Eat, poop, and God help me, scream just like any other brat.”

“Still, they’ll have to survive the six-month threshold,” the younger Church added.

Luthor drew from his cigar, then blew the smoke right in the other men’s faces. “I know this will be ongoing for years, but surely an advance won’t be too much to ask when you see the results.” Luthor slung an arm around Bill, Sr.’s shoulder as he led him toward a waiting car. “If their own mother can’t tell, it’s fool-proof. Besides, this could make us rich beyond our wildest imaginations, even richer than we are now. Add the mind control and you could create the perfect army. The government would pay billions.”

Bill stopped at his car and smiled. “Hell, we could create the perfect wives.”

“Amen to that,” Luthor said with a chuckle. “Now… can I count on you?”

“Yes,” he answered as he grasped Luthor’s hand in a firm shake. “If they are anything like you say, I’m in.”

“Fantastic!” Church and his son, along with one of the other men climbed into the limo and drove away. Luthor watched until the car disappeared, then his smile faded. “Nigel, those *men* you hired to do that job in Suicide Slum were at the Tower earlier. They want more money.” Lex drew from his cigar again. “Give it to them.”

“Yes sir,” the man answered with an evil grin.

They made their way back inside and Clark let go of the breath he’d been holding. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Luthor had insinuated that a woman had conceived and delivered twins that he’d somehow *created*. What did he mean? Were the babies some kind of experiment? He’d all but said so. What did that mean?

And could the woman be Lois? Were his own children some kind of sick experiment? If so, what kind?

Deciding that he’d ‘sit in’ on Church’s observation the following day before he told Perry or the others, he went back inside to follow Luthor’s movements the rest of the night. If this man slipped, Clark was going to be there to witness it.

***

The following day Clark landed on the roof of Lex Towers just before noon. He searched for and quickly disabled the lone camera trained on the roof door. He found a secluded spot behind two large air conditioning units and watched with super eyes as Bill Church, Sr. arrived a few minutes later. He tracked Church’s movements through the building and up to Luthor’s office. They exchanged greetings before a woman entered the room pushing a portable baby crib, much like the ones at the hospital. Inside were two sleeping infants.

“Remarkable,” said Bill Church Sr. as he looked into the crib at the babies.

“Quite,” agreed Luthor. “I had hoped to show you the remarkable advancements in mind control with the mother, but… she was under the weather.”

“I think this is enough proof.”

Luthor gestured to Nigel and the woman left pushing the babies. “Does that mean you want a piece of the pie?” Luthor asked when they were alone.

“Twenty percent now, twenty in six months and the rest at the five-year mark.”

“Five years?” Luthor yelled.

Bill took a step back at the man’s outburst. “Lex, you know we need that long to ensure the viability of the tissue. These things die faster than they’re created.”

Lex strode across the room, clearly angry at the offer put before him.

“And what are you up to anyway?”

“Excuse me?” he wanted to know when he faced Bill again.

“You’ve introduced that thing as your son.”

“Well, I can’t very well advertise his creation, now can I?”

“I guess not.” Bill turned and started toward the door. “Final offer. Take it or leave it.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one that asked for a buy in?”

“But you’re the one that needs to insure your little venture remains secret until you’re ready to announce your success to the world.”

Luthor’s brows rose at the other man’s audacity.

Bill smiled and waved his hand at Luthor. “Looks like we’re going to be quite rich.”

“Looks that way, Bill.” Luthor said through clenched teeth as he watched the door close behind him. “I can’t wait until that imbecile gets that smirk wiped from his face.”

“Should I deliver a message?” Nigel asked, his hands clasped behind his back. He was completely relaxed and it showed.

“Not yet. Unfortunately Bill’s right. I can’t have him divulging my secrets.” Lex stepped behind his desk and started searching through a pile of papers.

“When is the meeting with the lawyers in Sydney?”

“Not until the bastard is a year old.” Lex dropped to his chair, a heavy sigh escaping as he did. “This should have been easy, Nigel. Marry, have a son, inherit an empire.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done?”

“Not until the transfer is complete,” he reminded him.

“And I’m sure you didn’t count on every mole in the ground scurrying to the pile for their share of the pie either.”

“Yes, well, the funny thing about rodents is that they are easily exterminated.”

“Yes, they certainly are.”

Luthor laughed softly as he pulled a cigar from the box on his desk.

Clark let his vision sweep from Lex’ office further up. Inside a room on the top floor, a woman sat cradling one of the babies who had been returned to her. Though she reminded him nothing of the pictures he’d seen, there was no doubt the woman was Lois Lane. The babies were her twins. She continued to rock and hum softly to the child she held. His heart broke for her. She looked so lost, so defeated. Yet there was something about the way she cared for the baby in her arms.

“What did he do to you?” he whispered as he continued to watch another second. He finally decided it was time to let the others know what he’d heard.

A final glance and he was gone.

***

Perry just stared at a spot across the room and Jimmy paced back and forth behind the chairs as they took in the things Clark had just told them. Jack was off doing whatever it was Jack did to produce results. Most of the time they didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.

“That’s a sick bastard,” Jimmy said again for the third time.

“What empire is the man inheriting?” Perry wanted to know. “Lex Luthor has already inherited his empire. He was the only son of Lionel Luthor. He took control of all of his father’s assets when Lionel was murdered ten years ago. It was worth billions and he’s increased his wealth tenfold since then. He’s not having money problems either. We’ve checked all of that. No corporate take-overs imminent.”

“And what’s all that six-month, five-year crap? Viability of the tissue?” Jimmy was stumped. What was Luthor doing? More precisely, what had he done?

“Church. It has something to do with Church…” Perry was more or less talking to himself as he searched through the files he had on his desk. When Clark had gotten back to the Planet earlier, he was working on the investigation.

“What does Church’s lab do?”

“On the top floor, they head some of the most advanced medical research of our time. In the basement, anything that isn’t legal or ethical,” Jimmy informed him. “You name it, he’s probably done it.”

“We should start there. He mentioned his lab had already created whatever it is Lex thinks he’s created.”

“That’s all well and good, CK, but the things done in that part of the lab aren’t exactly advertised.” Jimmy sank to the chair next to Clark.

“Start with funding,” Perry spoke up. “Look into who funds Church’s lab or his enterprises. From there, look into the funding of Lex Labs.”

Clark picked up on Perry’s line of thought. “How about the physicians on the board?”

“The ones at Lex Labs should be easy enough to identify,” the editor said. “Jimmy, go back over that list of contributions Luthor’s made in the last ten years. See if there are any connections between him and Church.”

“On it, Chief.”

“Good. Now, that piece you two turned in from last night was great stuff. And unfortunately, I need you both to get me some printable copy for tomorrow.”

“We understand,” Clark said as he stood to follow Jimmy out. This investigation was important to Perry, but they couldn’t work on it all the time. They had other work that needed to be done as well.

***

Clark watched as Lana laid her head back and laughed. He’d joined her for dinner and was glad he had. She’d cooked, something she didn’t often do but when she did, it was remarkable. Her mother was a famous chef, even had a cooking show on television. Marge Lang was in Los Angeles at the moment to film a special for upcoming episodes of her program. She’d also taught her daughter how to cook. It was one of the many things he missed about Lana.

When she’d calmed, she looked at Clark, her expression growing in intensity. “Have you… been dating?”

“Not since moving to the city.” He leaned up and set his coffee cup on the table. They’d settled in the den on the sofa so they’d be more comfortable. “I was involved for a brief time with a woman in Brazil.”

“Why brief?”

“It was never serious. A couple of friends having a good time together.”

“Like us?” she wanted to know as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he agreed as he lifted his hand to tuck the hair on the opposite side of her head. “Like us.” His voice was soft, his eyes boring into hers. When she leaned forward, he met her halfway. Their kiss was immediately passionate and out of control.

When they spoke again, it was lying on Lana’s bed in her room. Both were sweating and panting from their exertion. There had been a brief pause in their explorations for Clark to zip out for protection before they’d given in to their most primal needs.

“Why is it always like this with us?” Lana asked him.

“I have no idea,” Clark said with a chuckle. He rolled over and kissed her shoulder before pulling her closer. “We have ten condoms left.” He waggled his brows at her.

“You’re insatiable.” She rolled over and kissed him firmly. “Were we destined from the beginning to never be anything more than lovers?”

“I like to think of it as friends with benefits.” He nuzzled her neck, causing her to giggle. He loved to hear her giggle.

“You’re impossible.” She dropped her head back to give him better access.

“How about we do the next one on the ceiling?” he asked as he floated them from the bed.

“You know I don’t like to fly,” she protested.

“But there’s so many ways than actually leaving the ground,” he whispered huskily as he nuzzled her neck. They dropped back onto the bed as Lana’s soft laughter filled the air and they surrendered themselves once again to their desires.

***

Clark closed the door of his apartment before seven the next morning. He’d said good-bye to Lana in the cab outside EPRAD. She was leaving in a week to spend the next two years of her life in space. There were tests and training she’d have to go through first, though. He’d miss her, but knew there was no future with Lana.

She’d known about his super side since they were kids and had always kept his confidence. She was his biggest supporter when he confessed that he needed to use his abilities to help others. Until they’d made their decision to part before she left for China, they’d always talked on the phone, even when they were split up. But when they’d decided it was finally the end, they’d also decided not to stay in contact. Maybe a Christmas card or birthday note, like any other friends would do.

He didn’t regret last night, though. It seemed they’d always had sort of an understanding about their physical relationship. They’d shared themselves the first time on prom night and though they’d never had an extremely active sex life, they had, on occasion, been unable to control themselves. Clark had never seen himself as a man who’d engage in such a relationship, though it was impossible for him to deny that he might never have the kind of life he craved. He was just too different from other men and he’d be hard pressed to find a woman to share a life with him. Lana was one in a million. She would have stayed with him, if either of them had been willing to give up their hopes and dreams for the other. Fortunately, they both loved and respected the other enough not to ask for that choice.

Clark also knew now that what he felt for Lana had never been more than deep friendship. She was beautiful and intelligent and he was incredibly attracted to her. Yet he’d never really felt that extra… something he should have felt when he looked at her. His heart didn’t skip a beat when he thought about her. And he had never been able to picture them later in life, with kids, growing older together. When they’d talked right before she left for China, she’d admitted the same things to him. She loved him, respected him, cherished him as a friend, and wasn’t the least bit ashamed to sleep with him. He just wasn’t her soul mate.

Did anyone have a soul mate? His mother swore that he’d know when he met his. She’d said he’d fall in love at first sight. Life might work against him- she might even deny it- but he’d know her. Whether or not fate brought them together was another story.

Flipping through his mail, Clark couldn’t help but smile. He loved his mother beyond words. She was an incredible person. Although he wasn’t sure he believed her. She was a softy and a romantic at heart.

***

Before the small team could make it very far in their research into Luthor and his affairs, things seemed to go crazy. One catastrophe after another beckoned the Man of Steel and with each rescue came an equally explosive story for the Planet. They stole time away from their real jobs and lives when they could to investigate Luthor, but time was at a premium. When they finally managed to catch their breath, it had been six and a half months since the birth of Lois’ twins.

“This list is so long I might never get finished,” Jack said as he chose another name and entered it into the search engine on his computer.

“Lex Labs received the second allotment Church mentioned,” Clark said as he continued to read over the papers he held. “I just don’t understand why he needs it, though. I can’t find a single subsidiary of Lex Enterprises that isn’t operating in the green.”

“Look in places you wouldn’t expect. Try his personal accounts,” Jimmy told him.

“Those have more money than his business accounts.” Clark leaned back and sighed heavily. Over the last few weeks this investigation had become an obsession for him as well as Perry. Since he’d seen Lois that day as she rocked her baby, something inside him yearned to help her. He hadn’t needed super eyes to know all was not well with that woman.

“I don’t think it’s a matter of needing the money,” Jimmy said. “You mentioned they said something about a buy in and insurance. I believe Church found out what Luthor’s done, whatever that is, and wanted a piece of the pie. Luthor gave it to him to keep his mouth shut.”

“No doubt,” Clark replied as he looked again at the disbursement of money into Luthor’s accounts. He’d really hid it well. A casual observer wouldn’t have been able to spot it.

“Hey, I think I’ve finally found a crumb trail,” Jack announced. “A biologist left S.T.A.R. Labs three years ago to work at Lex Labs.”

“That happens all the time,” Jimmy said, dismissing the information.

“Yeah, but does the physician pick up an entirely new field of study? And continue the research of a known quack?”

“What?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“Says here he picked up Dr. Carl Mambo’s research in 1995, but abandoned it again in 1996 for more human experiments.”

“Carl Mambo? Isn’t he the doctor that did research on cloning?” Clark asked.

“Yep. He’s successfully cloned frogs, chimps, and livestock. However, he is currently a resident of the Gutheridge Center for the Mentally Insane.” Jimmy whirled his finger in a circle beside his head. “A real nut job.”

“Didn’t Lois interview him once?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yeah. He was ticked with her article.” The man laughed as he remembered that piece. “So who decided that kind of insane research should be continued?”

“Dr. Paul Lang.”

“What?” Clark stood and strode over to look at the screen over Jack’s shoulder.

“Lang. Says he was a professor at MU, worked for the Mayo Clinic on genetics projects, and most recently he’s been playing around with fertility studies.”

Clark straightened and stared down at the computer. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Paul Lang was Lana’s father. At one time he’d felt sure the man was going to be his father-in-law. How did he not know the man worked for Lex Labs? Sure, he’d known he was doing infertility research at one time, but he had no idea the man was even the least bit interested in cloning.

Jack noticed Clark’s loss of concentration. “CK, is everything okay?”

“Paul is my ex-girlfriend’s father.”

“Really? Did you know he was into any of this?”

“No idea. Let me look at that.” Clark scrolled through the information for a moment before he walked back over and sat down again. Paul Lang had worked for S.T.A.R. Labs when he and Lana were together, but according to the computer, he’d also been working with Mambo before the man was declared insane.

“Fertility, cloning… You guys don’t think Luthor’s scientists have figured out how to clone humans, do you?”

“That’s ridiculous, Jack,” Jimmy said as he chuckled aloud.

“Think about it. Clark said Luthor referred to the babies as creatures. Church wants to document the viability of the tissue. Of course, it’s highly likely that Luthor’s trying to pass his twins off as clones. It wouldn’t be the first time a wacko double crossed other wackos.” He looked at the two men for a second. “Didn’t he say that they could create the perfect army?”

All three men stared at one another for several long minutes, laughed nervously, then suddenly they all sat up and began tapping furiously on their computers.

“How the hell do we prove something like that?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“Damn good question, Jimbo,” Clark remarked as he scanned a web page he’d called up. This thing got crazier by the second.

***

Lois stared down at the spilled juice on the table. There was white powder near the bottom of the glass. She turned it up and watched the thick substance pour out slowly. As she heard footsteps coming toward her room, she quickly picked up a napkin and mopped up as much of the gritty material as she could. Just before the door opened, she carefully stuffed the paper into her pocket. Glancing up at the camera above the table, she was sure she hadn’t been seen. Not exactly certain why she’d done so, suddenly it seemed vital for her to know what was in her morning beverage.

She smiled up at the woman who helped her with the twins. Didn’t she say her name was Sara?

And why couldn’t she remember after all of this time? The girl had been helping her for over six months now.

No matter. The girl was nice and often argued with Lex for her. Anybody who did that was okay in her book.

***

Jack pulled the collar up on his jacket and waited patiently. It was a quarter to three. Not long now.

Two minutes later, the door opened on the bottom floor of Lex Towers and out strolled the two women with the baby carriage. They crossed the street and entered the park through the west entrance. He waited until the bodyguard took up his post on the bench near the fountain before he approached and sat down on the bench directly behind the one the women sat on.

“Afternoon ladies,” he said with a smile, though he didn’t turn around to look at them.

“Hey,” Sara said as her face turned bright red. “Mrs. Luther, say hello to the nice man.”

Lois gazed across the park, apparently looking for Jack over there.

“Behind us,” Sara whispered.

Again, the woman just stared unseeingly ahead.

“How old is the baby?” And why was there only one? Always one. What about the little girl? Had they done something to her? Why didn’t they bring her out?

“Seven and a half months old now,” Sara informed him. Just then the baby began to cry. Sara stood and peered down into the carriage trying to discover the source of the child’s discomfort.

“Could you… discard this trash for me?”

Jack was surprised to hear Lois speak. She hadn’t done that since he’d begun coming to the park nearly five months ago. He leaned forward as if he was checking his phone for a call so he could glance at the bench. She dropped a ball of paper on the ground, still staring ahead. Neither Sara nor the bodyguard had seen what she’d done.

“We need to get back to the penthouse, Mrs. Luthor,” Sara turned and told her. “This little one is running a fever.” She helped Lois stand and Jack watched them leave. When the guard followed them through the gate, he reached down and picked up the paper. It was a napkin. He opened it carefully, noticing that there was a thick grit on the inside. He folded it back in, got up, and hurried out of the park. His patience had paid off. Perry had asked him some time ago to see if he could manage to check on Lois now and then. He’d done that in various ways. Sara, whom Jack had learned was the nanny, brought Lois to the park every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Whenever he was able, he was there as well. And it appeared Lois wasn’t as fried as Perry thought she was. If his guess was right, that lady had just given him the mother lode.

***

“I’ll be damned!” Perry said as he read over the report Jimmy had just given him. They had taken the napkin Lois had left for Jack to Bernie Klein at S.T.A.R. Labs for him to analyze. Being as the man had worked with Lois on more than one investigation, they all felt he could be trusted. Bernie was also told not to disclose anything about anything to anyone. It had taken him nearly a week to get the results. “I was right all along.”

“What was it?” Jack wanted to know.

“It’s a mind-altering drug, capable of rendering total and complete psychosis.”

“Holy hell,” Jimmy declared. “We have to get her out of there.”

“How?” Clark wanted to know. “We can’t waltz in there and declare that Luthor has been giving her drugs.”

“Clark’s right. We have to have proof.” Perry scratched his head as he continued to read the report. “If Lois got this to you, she’s not totally gone.”

“How did she know to give it to you?” Jimmy asked Jack.

“No idea. That was the first time she’s ever indicated that she’s aware of the world let alone anything else.”

“Could we… prick her skin? Get a little blood and have it tested?” Jimmy threw out. Anything was better than doing nothing.

“How? When big brother’s watching every move she makes?” Jack had actually thought of the same thing, but he hadn’t been able to come up with anything that wouldn’t raise suspicions.

“Let me think on it a day or two. In the meantime, I have a friend at the Forty Second who owes me a few favors.”

“I thought we decided some time ago the cops were on the take, Chief?” Jimmy asked his boss. They’d gone to a couple of detectives before only to have things happen that were unmistakable warnings.

“Yeah, yeah. I should have contacted Bill from the get go. But right now I need you all to hustle down to City Hall to cover the inauguration of our new mayor.”

All three nodded and left. Progress was slow, but at least they were making some. With any luck, Lois might actually be back where she belonged before she turned gray.

***

Lead after lead failed to pan out and none of the men could figure out that it was actually Lois who had been receiving the drugs. Bill Henderson, Perry’s friend in the police department, had told him that without absolute proof that Lois had consumed the substance, there wasn’t much they could do. The detective had also issued a grave warning to his old friend. Bill suspected Luthor of several illegal activities, but had been unable to prove any of it. He also pointed out that Luthor was powerful enough to cause them all to disappear. One didn’t take on an opponent like Lex Luthor unless one had serious ammunition.

On top of that, the news world refused to rest. There was barely time for any of them to eat, let alone work on their secret investigation. Clark tried a bit when he could, but between the Planet and Superman, there wasn’t much time left in the day. They had to settle for the fact that Lois seemed to be fine. Jack continued to go to the park when he could, although Lois had stopped coming. He’d asked Sara about her a time or two and was told she was fine.

What Sara was unaware of was that Lois was more than well. Since the discovery of a foreign substance in her juice, she’d stopped drinking it. She’d moved the table in her room so that the camera missed her pouring the offending liquid into the plant in the corner of the room each day. Her mind was once again as clear as a bell and she’d almost laughed aloud when Asabi grumbled about the dying plant in the corner. Thank goodness it was replaced with another one.

With the clarity of mind came an unimaginable realization, followed closely by numbing depression. However, it was in the wee hours of the morning, as she sat and stared out at the night sky, that she came to the conclusion that if she was going to get out of the mess she was in, she’d have to drag herself out of her funk. She had to get out, for herself and for her children.

That also caused her a fair amount of pain. She was mother to two children that were made during a night she couldn’t remember at all. Hell, she couldn’t remember much of anything, other than the fact that she’d married the devil. She’d been shocked to discover nearly two years had passed since she’d given up her position on the newsroom floor of the Daily Planet and walked out of her life and into that of… whatever she was in now.

But her babies were blameless. They didn’t ask to be brought into the world. They were also part of her and it was her responsibility to protect them. She fully intended to do that.

Lois watched and she listened, a task made easier because everyone thought she had lost touch with reality. She’d taken to roaming the halls and was allowed to do so because Lex felt she was harmless. Of course, she had to stay within the main living areas of the penthouse.

She discovered that the only place there was a camera was in her room. When she went to any other room, there was usually someone there. That was, until Lex declared her ‘gone’. After that, she was nearly ignored. That was when she started hearing things.

Lois huddled as far in the corner as she could get. She was hidden behind the floor-length drapes that covered the wall of windows in the expansive ballroom. She’d listened as Lex grunted and growled through his encounter with Mrs. Cox. He’d declared that the best yet. Wanting to vomit, she thanked God he was having sex with everyone else but her these days. Apparently he found it beneath him to bed a wife without a coherent thought.

“Inform the doctor we will begin the final stage of Lois’ treatment next week,” she heard Lex tell his assistant.

“Very good.”

Loud clicks resounded around the room as the woman walked away. Lex called out to her just before she exited the room. “Ask Lang if he’s still interested in taking the girl?”

“Has she become a problem?”

“You know me well enough to know I don’t trouble myself with such trivial things.” Cox laughed. “I want a few tests run and since I need the boy, the girl will have to do.”

“Do the tests involve operation super cell?”

“Yes. Most fortunate we have an extra puppet to play with, huh?”

“Most fortunate, but what about… your wife?” The woman practically spat the last words.

“My wife hasn’t a clue she’s even alive. And when we start the shock treatments, she’ll do whatever I want her to do.”

“Honestly, Lex, I will never understand why you felt you had to marry that woman and claim her bastard as your son.”

A few hurried strides and a loud pop, as if skin had contacted skin, nearly caused Lois to shriek. She had to bite her lip to control herself.

“Don’t you ever question my motives again!” Lex yelled. “I might show you favor by allowing you to please me, but you are nothing more than an employee. One that can be replaced. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Cox managed after a second. “I’ll make the call right now.” This time Mrs. Cox’s steps were closer to a run.

Lois was glad Lex left right behind Mrs. Cox, so she could slip from the room. She was standing outside another room a while later when she overheard Cox tell Lex that Lang would pick the girl up a week from Friday. Lex was furious to have to wait that long, but finally stopped cursing long enough to make another call about one of his utility companies. Even as Lois slowly walked back toward her room, her mind was already jumping ahead to how she’d save her daughter.

And she knew that was who Luthor was talking about. During her pregnancy there had been times of lucidness that she remembered, even if she wished she couldn’t. Those were times when Lex made sure to let her know that he wanted a boy and only a boy.

It took her all afternoon and half the night, but she finally formed a plan.

The next day was Wednesday and she went with Sara to the park. She nearly wanted to cry when she saw Jack sitting on the bench near the fountain. When she’d dropped that napkin, she really hadn’t known who he was. But she did now. She recalled that he’d begun working at the Planet right before she left. If he was here, Perry had sent him. That was a good thing.

She waited, until Sara took the baby closer to the fountain for a better look. “Pretty day,” she said and looked up.

“Very,” Jack said and that was all.

A few minutes later she was on her way back toward the Tower.

***

“What do you think it means?” Jimmy asked Perry as he read the note Lois had dropped.

“I have no idea. All I know is if she wants you to leave a baby doll in that bathroom, you’ll damn well leave it there,” Perry told him.

“Are you sure you haven’t been seen?” Jimmy asked Jack again.

“Who would think it’s the same person?” Jack grinned as he leaned back in his chair. “A young professional, a work-out freak taking a break, a bum in dirty clothes, even an old lady. Come on, Jimbo, give me more credit. I only go as myself enough to let her know I’m still coming.”

“Sorry, bro,” Jimmy said as he clapped the other man’s shoulder.

“Does anybody know where to buy a doll?” Perry wanted to know.

“We’ll get Clark to do it,” Jimmy said as the other man arrived late to the meeting.

“Huh?”

“Lois left another note.” Perry held it out to him.

“A doll?” He looked up at everyone.

“Who knows?” Perry stood and rounded the table. They’d decided to meet in the conference room tonight. “Go get us a doll, Kent. Jack, you rustle me and Jimmy up a disguise. We’re all going to the park Friday.”

***

Lois wasn’t a very patient person by nature. However, the life of her daughter depended on her today. She’d waited. She’d waited two days. Now she waited for just the right time. Jack wasn’t on the bench today, but she was certain he was here. Too much was riding on it.

“This little one needs a change,” Sara said as she peered down into the carriage.

“May I?” Lois asked. She did that now and then, so it wasn’t a surprise to Sara. In fact, she’d gotten the baby ready to go to the park. Caring for the twins was really all Lois did. That and staring out the window.

“Sure. The restroom is over there. Be quick or you know who will come looking for you.” Sara motioned to their guard sitting patiently on the bench across from the fountain. He was reading a paper today, trying to look interested.

“I will be quick.” Lois stood and began walking toward the building on the other side of the fountain. Her heart began to slam against her chest. This was it. She was more nervous now than she’d been earlier in the penthouse. She’d kept waiting for someone to come after them, having found her deception. Yet she knew all too well her little girl wasn’t often looked in on while she was alone. Lex left that task to her and Sara and didn’t often trouble himself to make sure the girl was even alive. The baby girl had also been sleeping, which meant that bought them a bit of time as well.

“I’m just gonna have a smoke,” Sara told her as she waited near the bench.

“I won’t be long,” Lois assured her again.

“I’ll be here.”

The guard didn’t even glance up as she entered the ladies room. It was empty, no doubt made possible by her friend. She quickly shut herself up in the handicap stall and sighed heavily when she noticed the car seat sitting on the toilet. Inside was a doll almost the same size as her twins.

“That boy’s good,” she said softly as she extracted the doll and replaced it with her own daughter. “Mommy loves you, Sweetie.” She ordered her tears not to come. There would be time for those later. Right now this was what she needed to do. If she took this child back to that penthouse, she would definitely never see her again. At least this way Perry would make sure she was safe. More than anything Lois wanted her safe. If that meant she had to part with her for who knew how long, so be it. She would be in very good hands. A final kiss and Lois tucked the doll into the carriage carefully, then hurried from the stall before she lost her nerve.

Outside, she walked back over to Sara, careful not to get too close. “I’m tired,” she declared and kept walking.

“Okay,” Sara said, stepped on her cigarette butt, then followed.

A woman was about to enter the ladies room when a man stopped her. “Sorry, Miss. Overflowed. We have to clean up the mess.” He waited until she was gone before he motioned for the lady across the walk. The young woman hurried over and into the restroom.

“Holy hell!” came the exclamation from inside.

“What is it?” he called in.

“You’ll have to see it to believe it. Is the coast clear?”

“Yep.” The man pushed the broom he held across the pavement as the young woman exited carrying the car seat. “Is that…?”

“Yeah.”

“Get to… Hell, I don’t know where to go.” Jimmy looked toward the entrance at Perry, who nodded and left the park.

“Go to Clark’s place. He’s the newest of the crowd. No one would think to look there.” He pushed the broom further down the walk as the woman carried her baby toward the opposite exit of the park. No one even looked twice.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was bouncing the crying baby trying to quiet the little bundle down. When the door opened and Perry and Jimmy entered, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh, thank God!” He immediately shoved the baby into Perry’s arms when he stepped down into the living room. “I have no idea what to do with a baby.”

“Ah, come on, Mommy. You’re a natural,” Jimmy kidded because Jack was still wearing part of his disguise. He’d been the young woman at the park.

“Look at you,” Perry crooned to the baby, who was still crying a bit. “You look just like your mother.” He looked up at Jimmy. “He’s soaked. Call Clark and tell him to bring diapers and some Similac. Tell him to grab a couple of bottles, a pacifier, wipes, and…” He looked at the tag in the child’s clothes. “Size twelve-month clothes. And tell him to be quick about it.”

***

Clark made it to his place thirty minutes later. When Jimmy phoned him, he was surprised to learn about his shopping trip. But by the time he made it to his place, he’d deduced what Lois had done. Why was the question, but as he stepped through the door of his place to find three frantic men and one screaming baby, he learned he’d been right.

“Get that milk ready,” Perry told him immediately.

Hurrying over to the table, Clark was glad he’d had the foresight to pick up a case of ready-to-feed bottles of formula, along with a package of sterile nipples. He dug in the bag for a moment, then turned in time to receive the baby Perry was handing off.

“Give me a little break, Kent. He’s pretty upset.”

Clark put the bottle down on the table so he could better shift the baby in his arms. “Oh, hi there, big guy,” he said softly. “You’re soaked.” He held the baby with one arm while he pulled the diapers from the bag. He tossed the pack to Jack. “Open those and hand me one.” He’d taken out the wipes and threw them at Jimmy. “I need that, too. There’s powder in the bag.” He walked over to the sofa and placed the baby on the cushion so he could take off his wet clothes. He’d soiled through the diaper as well as his onesie. “Come on, now, I’ll have you all dried up in a second,” he told him as he worked with all the skill of a father with several children. A few minutes later, he was lifting *her* to his chest to rub a hand over her bare back. “It’s the girl,” he told everyone else.”

“Yeah, well, we figured that from the note,” Jack said as he continued to watch the other man. “Pretty sure that’s the only way she could get her out of the penthouse. She’d never been to the park.”

“Who? The baby girl?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Jack answered grimly. Something wasn’t right about that baby and it was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

Clark continued to rub the baby’s back, effectively calming her. “Isn’t that better?”

“I’ll be damned,” Perry said as the baby stopped crying.

“Where did you learn all of that, CK?” Jimmy asked him.

“I worked in an orphanage in China and in the children’s wing of a hospice in South America. I was also the Davies’ babysitter for three years.”

“You were a babysitter?” Jack snorted at that as he flopped down in the chair across from the couch. “Sorry, CK, but we’ll have to ask you to turn in your man card.”

“Their son wouldn’t stay with anybody else and he was a package deal. He had two baby sisters.” Clark stood and walked back over to dig a package of onesies out of the bag. By now the baby seemed very content in Clark’s arms. “So, how did we get Lois’ daughter?”

“She left her in the restroom,” Jack told him. He leaned up and grabbed a piece of paper off the coffee table. “Along with this note.”

Clark took it and read aloud. “Protect her. Her life depends on her disappearing for now. I call her Perry. Yes, Perry.” He looked up at the others. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Perry moved over to sit on the sofa. “If Lois felt she was in danger, she’s in danger.”

“But what do we do with her?” Jimmy asked as he went to the fridge for a drink. “Lex will scour the city.”

“We have to get her out of the city. Take her somewhere safe, where he would never think to look,” Jack put in.

Clark had gone back to the sofa to redress the baby and as he did so, the perfect place came to mind. “I know a place.”

“You do?” Perry asked him.

“I’ll take her to my parents. No one would think to look for her there.”

“That might work,” Perry said with nod.

“Do you think your folks will take her?” Jimmy asked as he pulled a chair from the table closer to the group.

“You have to know my mom, Jim,” Clark said as he turned the baby to sit on his lap. “She believes it’s her life’s mission to help save the world, in any way she can. If that means taking in a baby whose mom thinks she’s in danger, then she’ll take that baby in.”

“We don’t know for how long,” Perry pointed out.

Clark glanced down at the baby. “Mom won’t care. Isn’t that right, Perry?”

“Guess Lois lost her mind after all,” Jack joked of the baby’s name.

“Wise guy,” Perry told him. “How soon can you get a flight out?”

“I can be out and back in two days,” Clark lied. Unfortunately, he had to cover for himself. Being as he’d have a passenger, he’d have to fly at night. And he’d take the time to help his mother settle the baby in.

“We’ll have to come up with a cover story,” Jimmy spoke up. “An aging couple can’t suddenly have a baby appear from nowhere. And if anybody comes asking questions…”

“Leave that to me,” Perry spoke up. “I know guys who know guys.”

“Are those the same guys Lois used to know?” Jimmy asked. She’d said that to him several times. The way she seemed to get things done, he believed her, too.

“Both of you drank some of that smart sauce tonight,” Perry said with a pointed finger, causing the other men to laugh. “So, we have a plan?” Perry said as he stood up. “Will you be all right alone with the baby, Clark?”

He glanced at the child who suddenly found his watch fascinating. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

“Better man than me,” Jack said as he rose. “She is a cute kid though. Could almost pass for yours, CK, with that dark hair and dark eyes.”

Jimmy clapped him on the shoulder on his way by. “Call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be okay. Won’t we, Sunshine?” Clark lifted the baby and turned her so he could look at her. Jack was right; she was adorable.

And her mother must have all of her senses, as Perry had said. She certainly loved this little person. Only a mother who loved her child so completely could leave her for others to take care of to save her life without knowing what the future held. That was a definite sign that Lois hadn’t completely lost her mind.

If Lois trusted them to keep her daughter safe, they weren’t about to let her down. He didn’t know her at all, but this act made him respect her beyond words.

***

Sara hovered just inside the door to Lex’s office, nervous about going in. Something was wrong with Lois. She’d refused to allow her to come with her into the library with her and the babies. When they’d returned from the park, Lois had gone straight to the bedroom, lifted the baby girl from the cradle, and took her and Xavier to the library. She’d all but locked the door to keep her out. It was past the twins’ bedtime and Lois still refused to allow her in. And she refused to come out.

Lex finally looked up from what he was reading to see Sara. “I hadn’t realized I’d asked you to come see me tonight,” he said with a smile. He stood and walked toward the young girl, his expression becoming predatory in nature.

“You didn’t.” Sara wouldn’t look at him.

“No matter. I don’t mind a bit of pleasure if you don’t.” He was about to reach for her when she stepped back. “What?” he demanded. “Am I not good enough for you now?”

“It’s not that, Mr. Luthor. It’s…”

“Spit it out, girl!”

“Mrs. Luthor,” the woman said so softly Lex had to strain to hear her.

“What about her?”

“She’s shut herself up in the library with the babies and won’t let me in.”

Lex stared at her for a moment before he strode from the room. He wasn’t sure what the hell that bitch was up to, but he’d find out. Didn’t she know he paid good money to make sure that boy was cared for like he was truly a Luthor?

Lois’ head snapped up when Lex flung the door to the library open.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Reading,” she lied and knew immediately he didn’t buy it. She hadn’t read anything in months.

Lex tucked his hands behind his back and walked toward her slowly. She had the carriage sitting next to her and moved a bit as he approached. Was it his imagination or was she trying to shield the carriage from him? “Why do you keep the babies from Sara?”

“We were okay.” Her heart began to pound loudly. In seconds he would learn of her deception.

He stopped in front of her and leaned over to get a good look at the babies. Xavier looked up at him and smiled. But the girl just laid there. “What’s wrong with her? It’s not time to sleep.” He’d insisted on very strict schedules for them both. He wasn’t about to let some snot nosed brat put a crimp in his style. When his hand touched her, his eyes snapped to Lois. The baby doll was jerked from beneath the covers as the anger boiled deep within the man fuming as he hovered over the frightened woman. “What the hell is this?! Where is the girl?”

“Somewhere you’ll never find her.”

Lex stared at Lois for a moment before he smiled. “Welcome back, Ms. Lane.”

She thrust herself to her feet to stand off against the man she’d come to loathe. “I’ve been back for a while!”

“What did you do with the girl?” he asked, his voice calm and cold.

“I gave her to the bum on the corner!”

Lex drew back and slapped Lois so hard she felt as if her jaw was broken. “Get her back! Now!”

“Go to hell!” Lois spat as she looked up at him from her position slumped over the chair she’d fallen on. He drew back again and she stood up, squaring her shoulders as she did. “Go ahead. Do it. Then explain why your wife looks like she’s been beaten to a pulp when we arrive in Australia.” That made him drop his arm, clenching his jaw tightly enough so that she could hear his teeth grind. “I told you I’ve been back a while.” Long enough to hear that Lex had married her because he’d had to. His dear father had owned an empire and had left him the throne- providing he met certain stipulations. One of which was the need to have a wife. He couldn’t claim his inheritance without her. “I’m sure Daddy left instructions should your wife be mistreated.”

He stepped close enough that she could feel his breath when he spoke. “You’ve bought yourself a reprieve… For now. But as soon as the transfer of power is complete, you will no longer be needed.” She stood just a bit taller, practically daring him to do something. “Now, tell me where she is,” he said, a controlled, clipped order.

“Over my dead body.” Now that she’d stood up to him once, she began to feel herself come alive again. Her daughter was gone, safe by now, and there was no way in hell she’d ever tell him where she was.

Not that she knew anyway.

Lex glared at her for several minutes before he turned and walked toward the door. On his way by Sara, he backhanded her hard enough to knock her to the floor. He never stopped and didn’t see that she hit her head on the way to the floor.

“Sara!” Lois yelped and ran toward her. It only took a minute to realize the hit on the head had been a fatal blow.

In his office Lex paced back and forth as he waited for Nigel. He’d snapped out an order for one of the maids to get him when he’d been on his way back. It was only a few moments before the English gentleman walked into the room.

“How may I assist you this evening, my good man?”

“That bitch has done something with the girl.” He continued to pace, unable to stand still. It wasn’t often he wasn’t in control and when he wasn’t, it caused him great distress.

“The baby girl?”

“Yes, the baby girl, Nigel!” he yelled. Stopping in front of the bookshelves, he shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “We have to find her.”

“I’ll put our best men on it, sir.”

“Do that. And if they don’t find her by dawn, they better not go home!” He snatched up an object on the shelf and turned to throw it against the wall, shattering a picture hanging there.

Damn that woman!

And damn the man that forced him to be in a position to have her here.

But Lex would win. Good men had tried to bring him down without success. He’d be damned if Lois Lane would do it.

Mrs. Cox stepped into the room as Lex threw another object at the wall. “Mr. Luthor, Sara is dead.”

He stopped and whirled to face the tall, dark woman. “Good. The bitch should have done her job.”

“Sir, she had a family. A family that might ask questions.”

Pure rage washed through Lex and he turned toward his desk. He reached down, heaving as he lifted the furniture, yelling as he flipped it over. “Get Nigel. He will know what to do,” he finally managed when he’d calmed enough to speak.

“Yes, sir.” The woman turned and left without another word. She was still upset with Lex over how he’d treated her in the ballroom.

Lex stumbled over to the double doors and out onto his balcony. Taking several deep breaths, his mind began to calm. This was his city. He was in control.

And no one was going to take that away from him.

***

Clark landed in the backyard and hurried in through the door of the farmhouse. “Mom!” he called. The light was on in the den so she was still up.

“Clark? I didn’t know you were coming out…” She stopped when she saw her son standing on the other side of the table… holding a baby.

“I need you to hold her for a second while I zip back to Metropolis and handle a couple of things.” He carefully placed the sleeping baby in his mother’s arms, then disappeared in a flash. He flew back to his apartment to gather up the baby items he’d purchased earlier. He even grabbed the soiled clothes. He deposited the trash in a bin two blocks over, double checking to make sure he hadn’t left behind any evidence that a baby was ever in his home. One last look and he gathered up the bag containing the baby things, along with the car seat, and flew back to Kansas.

Martha was sitting at the table gazing at the angelic face of the sleeping child when he made it back. “Why did you have a baby?” she asked him immediately.

He set the bag and seat on the table, then took out the dirty clothes so he could carry them into the laundry room adjoining the kitchen. When he was done, he sat down to look at his mother. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time,” she assured him.

“Well…” He started slowly and twenty minutes later, his brows rose as his eyes pleaded with his mother. “So?”

Martha smoothed a hand over the baby girl’s head. “You poor dear. And Lois,” she said as she looked at her son. “It’s been so long. Do you think you and the others will be able to help her?”

“We have to believe we can. Perry won’t stop until he does. Lois is like a daughter to him.” Clark pointed at the baby. “Will you keep her?”

“Oh, Clark, of course we will. I’ll explain everything to your father in the morning.” Jonathan had already gone to bed.

“Thanks, Mom. I knew I could count on you guys.” He reached over to touch the baby. He’d spent the afternoon with the baby and had grown quite attached. He’d miss her when he left. “You do realize it might be a while before we can reunite her with her mother.”

“I think we’ll manage.” Martha grinned as she continued to gaze at the small baby. “I just wish she could have gotten her brother to you, too.”

“Yeah.” He rose to put away the things he’d brought. “Perry said he’d take care of the paperwork to explain her appearance here.”

“We’ll need something. And she’ll need things.”

“I’m gonna stay for a couple of days to help you get her settled. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“You can bring your old crib in from the storage shed. And I think there’s a few other baby items there as well.”

Clark nodded. “How about tonight? Where should she sleep?”

“Your cradle is in the attic. You can get that.” She rose and went upstairs.

When Clark found her, she was in his room. The baby was lying on the bed, still sleeping, and his mother had cleared a space for the cradle. He set it where she indicated.

“I’ll make up the bed.”

Clark’s head snapped around to her as she headed for the door. “What? She’s sleeping in here?”

“For tonight. Your father’s asleep. We can set the crib up in our room tomorrow.”

He glanced at the baby when she left he room. He hadn’t counted on the baby spending the night with him. As she sighed in her sleep, he smiled. It didn’t matter where she slept. Perry needed someone to take care of her, and he was ready for the task.

When Martha had the cradle made up and the baby tucked in, she looked up at her son. “What’s her name?”

“Perry.”

“Perry?” He nodded. “Unusual for a girl.” Another soft touch before the woman headed for the door. “Five comes early.”

“Night, Mom.” Clark watched the baby sleep for a moment before he stepped over beside the bed to take his shirt off. As he settled on the bed, he couldn’t stop trying to figure out what direction to go in with the investigation. But there was so much running through his head.

Why did Lois feel Perry was in danger? Was Luthor planning to harm her? Did Lois know what it was? How long had she been lucid? Since she’d given Jack the napkin with the drugs in it?

He glanced over at the sleeping baby again. Doing what he was doing- it was a lot considering he didn’t even know Lois.

Yet Perry knew her. He loved her and wanted to protect her. In the short time Clark had been at the Planet, he’d come to see his editor as a wise man. He was compassionate and loyal, even if he rarely let that side of himself show. Clark not only respected that, he’d come to view Perry as a friend. And something inside him told him that Perry was right- Lois was in trouble with Luthor. He’d help Perry prove it. He’d help Lois no matter what he had to do.

***

It was all Clark could do to concentrate today. He’d covered an accident this morning and needed to finish the story on it, but his mind kept going back to the baby he left in Kansas. She was adorable. Cute dimples filled her chubby cheeks and her bright eyes constantly searched her surroundings. In the two days he’d stayed to help his folks get her set up, she’d begun to recognize his voice. She’d turn her head toward him when he spoke and smile. God, he loved her smile. And when she cried, his heart felt like breaking. She’d wrap her tiny hand around one of his fingers and he’d melt. He’d taken the time to show her the farm, talking to her softly. She liked the animals- cooing and squealing loudly when she saw one. He’d cradled her tenderly to rock her to sleep, cleaned baby food from her face at mealtime, and learned how to change dirty diapers at super speed. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten to them. All that mattered now was that she was taken care of. He liked Perry- liked her smile, liked her big beautiful eyes, her round, full cheeks. When she laughed, he felt warm all over. Clark had fallen completely in love with a seven-month-old baby girl.

“Kent, you done with that piece on the accident?” Perry yelled out into the bullpen.

“Just a minute,” he answered as he shook the cobwebs from his head. He’d just have to force himself to concentrate.

“Perry wants us to stay late tonight,” Jimmy told him as he dropped a couple of photos on Clark’s desk. “Says he wants to discuss which direction to go in.”

“Not a problem.” He finished up his article as Jimmy went back to his desk. With any luck, somebody would have better ideas than he did. He was lost. Luthor had covered his tracks well. If something didn’t give soon, they might never be able to bring down the ‘Boss’.

***

Nigel walked up beside Lex just outside the balcony doors. They had to stand close to the building under the awning because it was raining.

“Have they found her?”

“Not so much as a trace. It’s as if she disappeared from the face of the planet.”

“And the bodyguard?”

“Floating down the river as we speak.”

Lex lit the cigar he’d been holding, taking several long draws before he spoke again. “I spoke to Lang. He disobeyed a direct order.”

“Again?”

“This one might bite us.” He blew out another puff of smoke. “He didn’t put the implants in place.”

“It might be for the best, sir. If they’d been activated and the baby died, her true biology would have been discovered much more quickly.”

“Better to be agonizingly slow with the eventuality,” he practically spat at his right hand man. “If I know White, he’ll have her examined to see if I’ve poisoned her or molested her or…” He stopped and threw the cigar on the cement, stomping it out. “He has her.”

“We’ve traced his steps, retraced, and even plundered through his trash. We’ve even combed through everyone connected with White. Not one trace of a baby.”

“What about the Kent fellow?”

“He’s only been working for White a short time. A man like Perry White would never put that kind of trust in a man so easily or quickly.”

“Yes, you’re right. We can’t get a single mole in that place. They all fear the man. How about bugging devices?”

“He sweeps the Planet daily. They’d be found and those *can* be traced.”

“Damn that man,” Luthor said in disgust. “He’s been a thorn in my side for years.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and gazed out across the city. “What now, Nigel? What do we do now?”

“I say cut your losses. Forget the brat. Claim your empire and fade into the background.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have much worse trouble than Perry White.” Lex faced Nigel with raised brows. “Delconto has put you on his hit list.”

“What?!” True fear washed over Lex. If he’d been placed on Juan Delconto’s hit list… “We have to act fast,” he said with desperation in his voice. “When did you find out?”

“Today. A friend of a friend who owed me a favor wanted to warn me. Otherwise, we would not have known until it was too late.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Days. Hopefully.” Nigel’s voice was just as unemotional as it always was.

“Then we need to get busy.” Lex turned and went inside. Nigel followed and carefully closed the doors.

***

Jimmy tapped his pencil as he scanned through another article. They were back to searching for crumbs again. Clark was doing much the same thing while they waited for Jack and Perry. The younger man entered the conference room first.

“I’m pretty sure I know the reason there was no official investigation into the disappearance of Lois’ baby,” Jack said as he dropped to a chair.

“Because she doesn’t legally exist,” Perry remarked as he stepped in and closed the door.

“What?” Clark asked as he lifted his eyes from his computer screen.

“According to sources in Vital Records, the only child born to Lex and Lois Luthor was a baby boy. Xavier Franklin Luthor is listed as a single birth.” He tossed one of the papers he held across the table.

Jack shook his head in disbelief. “How do you do it? I hardly ever see you leave that office.”

“Now, son, I wouldn’t be a man in my position if I didn’t know things.”

Jack chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. “At least we know the only one we have to worry about looking for her is Lex himself.”

“And being as his arm seems to reach across the country, that might be worse than having the cops looking for her,” Jimmy added gravely.

“Yeah, well, I hope this will throw him off the trail for a while.” Perry handed Clark some more papers. “Birth certificate, social security number application, immunization… Of course, we should get her to the doctor for a thorough exam because if my hunch is right, the poor thing hasn’t had a single shot yet.”

Clark had been reading the papers and after the first section on the top page, he hadn’t heard much else of what Perry had said. His eyes shot up to his boss and he thrust himself to his feet. “What the hell is this?”

Perry’s expression was a bit apologetic. “Now, calm down, son.”

“Calm down? Perry, this is…” He glanced down again before his eyes went back up to the older man’s. “We can’t…”

“Think about it, Clark.”

Jimmy snatched the papers and read a second. “Well, it’s certainly one way to keep questions at bay.”

“Jimmy, there’ll be tons of questions,” Clark argued.

“Read on. The last paper says you were engaged to the mother, but she perished in a car accident before you two left Brazil. And it’s true. The death part. Maria died a month before you came back to the states.”

“Yeah, I know.” Clark knew the woman named on this paper. She had indeed been pregnant and she had died in a car accident. But her baby was living with her father in Chile now.

“I covered my tracks well. Favors were traded to make sure Luis and his daughter cannot be found. They are happily enjoying their new home as we speak.” Perry grinned widely.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jack said as he dropped his feet back to the floor and sat up in his chair. “You’ve fixed it so that Clark is that baby’s father?” he asked his boss.

“Yes,” Perry answered as he sat down. “You said yourself the baby looks like him. Another positive in our corner to keep the questions at bay. I even got her a passport and according to flight records, she and Kent flew QueenAir into the states.”

“And don’t tell me,” Jack said. “Oliver himself provided you with the manifest.”

“As a matter of fact,” the older man said.

Jack could only laugh and shake his head. Perry knew everybody and they all owed him a favor. Except for the ones that knew anything about Lex Luthor that could help them.

Clark slowly sat back down, flipping through the papers in his hands. With a little ink and a few repaid debts, he’d become the legal father of a baby girl named Perry Ella Kent.

“Don’t worry, son. When all of this is over, I have the proof to get you out of this, too.”

The younger man looked up at his editor. “Perry, it’s not the fact that I’m essentially this child’s father. It’s just…” He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “What happens if this turns into months or worse, years? What about that little girl then?”

“We have to think about now, Clark. Right now we have to do this. And the only way I knew to protect her is like this. If Luthor starts looking, it’ll be as if she was always there and he just didn’t know it. Besides, you’re new man on the totem pole. Luthor won’t look at you too hard.”

“But…” Clark just stared at the papers. How in hell did he do this? It wasn’t that he was exactly averse to being Perry’s father. On the contrary. He’d found himself thinking more than once over the last two days about her really being his. But that was insane and so was this. This would never work. This would never keep her safe. And right now that was the most important thing. If Lex *did* look deeper…

“Clark, this will work,” Perry told him softly. “It has to.”

Clark looked up at his boss. He’d seen that look so many times in Perry’s eyes. It was the love he had for Lois. She must be something incredibly special for Perry to be banking so much on helping her. As the large, soulful eyes of baby Perry flashed through his mind, he decided that *she* was definitely something special. This might be insane, but…

“I hope so.” He flipped the papers again, then carefully placed them into an empty manila folder lying on the table. “I’ll get these out to Mom.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. There was no going back now.

“Hey, genius,” Jack spoke up. “Have you thought about what you’re gonna say if folks ask why little Perry’s out in Kansas instead of here with her daddy?”

Perry arched a brow at the boy’s bravado. “We’ll cross that bridge if and when it comes. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

“Hey, what about her name?” Everyone turned to look at Jimmy. “Won’t it be obvious who she is by her name?”

“I have a feeling nobody knows what she called that little girl,” Jack spoke up. “They never brought her to the park. Never even talked about her. My source says the baby was rarely out of Lois’ bedroom. It seems Lex didn’t want anybody to know she was alive.”

Clark couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of himself. He’d been worried about being labeled that little girl’s father while she’d never even had a life at all.

There was a long silence while each man was lost in his own thoughts. Perry clapped his hands together to signal it was time to get to work. “Let’s get the goods on this bastard and put him behind bars where he belongs.”

***

Lex looked out over the city that he claimed as his own. No one could touch him from this position. No one could topple him from his perch atop the throne he’d built.

No one but himself.

“Sir?”

Lex turned to face the English gentleman he’d hired many years ago to handle his affairs. Nigel had come highly recommended and so far he’d proven himself to be worth every dime he paid the man. “Yes, Nigel? What is it?”

“The girl’s body was found this morning.”

Lex heaved a heavy breath and slumped into the chair at his desk. “Then it’s time.”

“Yes, sir.”

An evil grin spread across the billionaire’s lips. “Ironic isn’t it, Nigel? The one place I fought to get away from will become my shelter from the storm.”

“It’s just temporary, sir.”

“Yes, indeed. Now…” Lex sat up with a renewed confidence. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Does everyone know their jobs?”

“To the letter. Eleven o’clock marks the time.”

“Eleven.” Lex lit a cigar and twirled his chair to face the window. “She’s beautiful; she’s seductive; she’s mine. Soon the world will know the power of a great leader.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Nigel. He smoked his cigar with all the arrogance of a man without a care in the world.

***

Clark and Jimmy had gone down to Suicide Slum at daybreak when a body of a young woman was found. A young white girl being found in the Slums was cause for concern. She might be a runaway or a missing person. And if she was, they would make sure her family got her body for proper burial.

It turned out she was just a junkie who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The guys decided to head on to the Planet and get the article written up so they might get a little extra time to work on the Luthor investigation.

It was an hour later before Jack made it in. He was on his way to give Jimmy some research he’d done for the other man when the picture lying on Clark’s desk caught his eye. He stopped and lifted the image to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was.

“Sara!”

“What?” Clark looked up from his screen.

“This is Sara, Lois’ nanny.” He thrust the picture back into Clark’s line of vision.

“Are you sure?” Jimmy wanted to know. He’d heard the other guy’s exclamation and came to listen in.

“I saw her three times a week for months. I am positive.”

Jimmy and Clark exchanged a glance before they both headed for the elevator. They needed to talk to Bill Henderson and see if he could get the autopsy pushed forward as quickly as possible. And to see if this girl had a life outside her employer.

Jack was left holding the picture and sighing sadly. He’d really liked that girl. She had no idea she’d been in bed with the devil.

***

Lex grinned as he lit a cigar. He might as well have one last stogy. A glance at his watch informed him it was nearly eleven o’clock. Just about show time.

“Tell my wife I’d like to see her,” he barked his order without turning toward the servant he knew was behind him.

“Yes, sir,” came the answer.

When Lex had found himself in need of a woman for certain… scientific purposes, he’d thought of Lois. He’d been entertaining her at the time, so it was natural she would be his choice.

He laughed aloud. Who was he kidding? He’d set out to gain the young reporter’s trust and had eventually attained and conquered the formidable Lois Lane. From the time she’d gone to work as an intern at the Planet, she’d caused him nothing but utter distress. At every turn she was waiting with pen in hand to document his shortcomings. And on more than one occasion, she had. Too bad she didn’t even know it.

He’d thought it would be fun to tame that beauty. But she was much too brash for his tastes. He preferred women who submitted the moment he spoke and she’d never do so without the help of some form of persuasion. Lex had never been one to need an outside influence to get a woman into his bed. He wasn’t about to start with Lois. He had enjoyed watching her suffer though. Soon he would also put her in her proper place. He blew a large smoke ring into the air and squinted so that he could more clearly see the street below.

Inside her room, the servant informed Lois that Luthor would like a word with her. What could he possibly want?

Lois cringed to know he wanted her at all, in any way. She sure as hell didn’t want him.

Lex was peering over the balcony wall when Lois stepped outside. She made her way to him and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You beckoned?” she said sarcastically.

Lex turned with an evil smile. “Ah, Lois. You always did know how to talk to a man.” He took a slow sip from the brandy bottle on the wall between his propped up arms, then promptly slapped her to the floor. “I hope you enjoyed your time as my wife.”

Lois wiped the blood from her mouth as she glared at him. “I would have rather died than be made into your wife.”

“We can accommodate you.” He lifted the bottle for a hearty gulp. “How’s my boy this morning?”

Lois had enough of his threats. “Leave Zay out of this. This is between me and you.”

“Zay? You’re calling him Zay?” He laughed aloud for a moment.

“I refuse to call him *Xavier*. That’s the name *you* gave him,” she spat in return.

He eyed her closely for a moment, and she held her breath, expecting another resounding slap. Instead, the customary spark of evil flashed in his eyes. “Don’t you see that he’s part of this. Hell, he *is* this!”

“This what?” she wanted to know. She knew Lex had married her and conceived a child with her to claim a fortune. But why her? He couldn’t stand her and hadn’t failed to remind her of that fact over the last few days he’d known she was lucid. And what was all the crap about tests and viability of tissue and Dr. Lang- whoever he was?

Lex seethed in anger and grabbed Lois around the neck. “This!” His grip tightened as he flung curses and obscenities at her. He’d wanted to do this months ago. If it weren’t for the demands of a deranged, old fool…

The world began to swirl around her. Grasping desperately at Lex’s fingers around her neck, Lois’ world faded to black.

***

“Mrs. Luthor, wake up.”

Lois came to her senses as Nigel shook her. “Wh… what happened?” The first thing she was aware of was that she was still outside on the balcony.

“You went crazy. Don’t you remember?”

“What?” Lois was looking around, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. Just then the doors flew open and a group of police burst in.

“Don’t move, Mrs. Luthor,” one of the officers told her as he trained his gun on her.

“What?” At first Lois had thought they were there to take care of her, but they were pointing their guns at her. Her dim senses picked up Nigel’s voice.

“I heard her say she’d kill him. He asked her to calm down. Then she just… ran at him, pushing him over the edge.”

Lois’ mind was a blur. What had Nigel just said? Her breathing was becoming fast and labored. She turned horrified eyes to the balcony wall where officers were looking over the side.

“Poor bastard. Horrible way to go.”

Lois gasped for air. They couldn’t mean what she thought they meant.

“Mrs. Luthor, you’re under arrest for the murder of your husband. You have the right to remain silent…”

His words faded as she was pulled to a standing position and cuffed. Lois had grown numb. She wanted out of this life but not this way. She had never wanted Lex dead. Okay, yeah, so given half the chance she would probably have choked the life out of him. But…

When they were almost to the door, she remembered something very important. “My son! Wait! My son is asleep in his room.” She fought against her restraints.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Luthor. Mr. St. John has agreed to contact your father to come for him.”

“No, not Sam. Call Perry. Call Perry White.” Lois’ words drifted off as she tried to comprehend what was happening to her. She was led out of the penthouse and into the elevators, desperately trying to recall what happened. The last thing she remembered was Lex choking her, then everything was black. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that Perry would get her son. That was all that mattered.

***

Clark was on his way to his desk from the copy room when a staffer turned up the volume on one of the monitors. There must be a breaking story coming in. He’d just gotten back from an accident across town, so he hadn’t heard anything else.

“As we speak authorities are escorting Lois Luthor from the penthouse she shared with her husband at Lex Towers. Witnesses say she had been suffering from a deep depression and finally broke. Before anyone could stop her, she pushed her husband over the balcony wall. Lex Luthor was pronounced dead at the scene.”

Clark’s eyes snapped across the room where an equally stunned Jimmy Olsen stood with his mouth hanging open.

The door to Perry’s office banged open and he was practically running toward the elevator. “Get Mayson Drake on the phone and have her meet me at the Hall of Justice. We need an injunction so that we can get that baby out of there!” When he stopped to wait on his ride down, he searched out Jack in the crowd. “Jack, I need you to find Lucy Lane and get her cleaned up. And I need it done yesterday! Clark, high-tail it to Lex Towers and see what you can see. Make sure they don’t take that baby out before we can go get him.”

The other men began to scramble as soon as the doors closed Perry off from view. It seemed all hell had broken loose and they’d had nothing to do with it.

***

Thank God Lois was taken to the Forty Second, Perry thought as he entered the building a few minutes later. He’d had to beat his way through the throng of reporters outside just to get in. Inside was just as chaotic with policemen and other officials scurrying around. Bill Henderson met Perry halfway across the room.

“What the Sam Hill is going on, Bill?” the editor demanded.

“Somehow I knew this one would get you out of that newsroom,” Bill remarked. He motioned for Perry to follow him and went into his office and closed the door.

“It was messy as hell, Perry.”

“I don’t give a rat’s cheese about Luthor. Good riddance! Lois didn’t do this!” His voice was just below a shout and he stood, hands on his hips nearly shaking with controlled anger and tension. When he’d run out the newsroom, he hadn’t grabbed his jacket and his tie sat slightly askew around his neck. He could have cared less.

“Well, Perry, everyone there says she did.”

“They all work for Luthor! They’d say anything for a paycheck.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think they’d protect their payday now?” Bill challenged the other man right back with fire and passion of his own. He was one of very few men that actually dared stand toe to toe with Perry White. “With Luthor dead, his wife would have inherited the warehouse.”

“We both know a man like Luthor is not about to die without stipulating where all of his money goes. There were more prenups than Elvis had hairstyles.”

“That may be so, but even I can’t do anything about this one, Perry. She needs a damn good lawyer. With any luck, she can get time in an institution on a plea of temporary insanity.”

Perry stared dumbfounded at his longtime friend. “That’s it?” he asked in a calmer voice.

“Perry, I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Bill. Not after all we’ve been through.” He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “Just say you’ll turn a few stones before you pass judgment.”

“I can turn all the stones you want me to, but this one might be out of my hands.” And he had the grace to look apologetic. “Look, I can get you two minutes.”

“With Lois?”

“Yes.” He motioned for Perry to follow him and they made their way down the hall toward the back of the station where the holding cells were. Stopping outside a door, Bill ordered the guard to take a smoke break. “Two minutes,” he reminded his friend.

Perry stepped inside the room to find Lois pacing back and forth. She stopped when the door opened and looked up at Perry. She reminded him of a caged and terrified animal. She was not the picture of someone who had killed her husband or even one who had wanted to. Her eyes were red and swollen, brimming with tears as she stared at him.

“I didn’t do it, Perry,” she said in a strangled tone.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Lois Lane was no murderer. “Ah, I know, honey. And I’m gonna prove it.” He hadn’t known how much he’d missed this woman until just now. It was more intense than he thought possible. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Perry managed to whisper, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Just get my baby out of there. Don’t let his goons take him off to do God knows what with him,” she pleaded.

“I’m headed to the Hall of Justice when I leave here so I can get an injunction.”

She nodded and took a few more steps across the room. “How’s…?”

Perry waved her off. He wasn’t sure if they were being monitored or not. And he wasn’t sure how far Luthor’s reach truly was. But knew it was possible for even a man like him to be able to reach places from beyond the grave. “Working out well.”

Another nod and she was pacing again.

He wanted so badly to reach out to her, but he didn’t know this woman anymore. The change in her posture told him such an advance might not be as readily accepted as it would have at one time.

A tap on the door, then it opened. “You have to go. The DA is on the way,” Bill said when he stuck his head in the door.

“Nothing,” Perry said as he looked at Lois. “Say nothing until your lawyer gets here. Mayson Drake. I need her at the Hall of Justice for a bit, then I’ll send her right on over.”

“Thanks, Perry.” She managed before more tears came. She quickly turned and faced the wall.

Perry’s heart broke to have to leave her there. Reluctantly he tore his eyes from her back and left. So help him if Luthor wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him.

***

Mayson Drake was a tall blonde woman with as much attitude as she had intelligence. She didn’t play games, jumping for the jugular the instant she was handed a new case. She was one of the best lawyers on the east coast, probably in the country. Once on the fast track to the District Attorney’s office, she chose instead to continue private practice so that she was able to hand pick her clients. She’d been Perry White’s lawyer for years. She’d also become Perry’s friend. That was why she knew what he needed now.

By the time Perry arrived at the Hall of Justice, Mayson was waiting for Judge Burke to announce he was ready to hear her emergency order for temporary custody of a minor child.

“Mayson?” Perry called as he stepped inside the building.

She turned from where she was talking with a man and motioned him over. “We have a hearing with Burke,” she informed him immediately.

“Then you know what I need?”

“Come on, Perry, I’ve known you for entirely too long.”

He smiled at her and together they walked toward the room where they would try to convince a judge to allow them the right to take custody of Lois Lane’s baby boy.

Minutes later they were sitting down across the desk as a middle-aged Asian woman moved her chair closer to the furniture so she could read over the file Mayson extended o her.

“I represent Perry White, editor of the Daily Planet. He asks that you grant him an emergency order of custody of Lois Luthor’s son.”

The woman looked up at them. “On what grounds?”

“Mr. White is Ms. Luthor’s power of attorney and under the circumstances, he feels it is his responsibility to care for the minor child until such time other arrangements can be made.”

The judge read for a moment. “I am not versed on Mr. Luthor’s final arrangements.”

“Begging your pardon,” Mayson told her. “His arrangements are separate and apart from hers. His death reinforces the power of attorney and Mr. White is within his rights to act on her behalf. She would want her son cared for and protected.”

“Does she have family members that could take the child?”

“The only family she has suitable to care for the child is a sister and she’s out of the city at the moment. Mr. White could take this child immediately.”

“And future arrangements? Mrs. Luthor’s future is dire and I can’t see Mr. White in a position to care for the child indefinitely.”

This time Mayson had to look to Perry. She didn’t know anything about what he planned beyond today. “There’s a young man that works for me,” Perry blurted out. “He has a baby daughter about the age of Ms. Luthor’s son. Granted, his folks are caring for the child while he gets settled- he just came to work at the Planet a few months ago. He’s a good man and a great father.” Perry didn’t know about the last part, but he did know Clark was one of the best men he’d ever met. He wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that, but just knew that he was. And these babies really needed to be together. Of course, that was something else he couldn’t talk about.

The judge sat back and stared at the aging man for several moments before leaning forward again. “This might not be the wisest thing I’ve ever done, but…” She picked up a pen and scribbled on the top document. “I’m granting the emergency order. I want to see you back here in a month with proposal in hand for the child’s future care. If that young man is what you say he is, and if Ms. Lane will agree to her son’s placement with him, I’ll grant him temporary custody.”

It sounded like hot air escaping a balloon when Perry sighed heavily. “Thank you, Your Honor.” This was one burden off his mind. At least Lois’ little boy would be in good hands.

“Thank you,” Mayson repeated for him as she stood and shook the judge’s hand. The papers were tucked into an envelope and they hurried from the building. Perry was about to break speed records getting to Lex Towers.

***

Clark had clawed his way through the crowd outside Lex Towers trying to find out anything he could about the accident that claimed Luthor’s life.

And he was pretty sure accident was a better way to describe it instead of murder. Granted, he didn’t know Lois at all, but would she have killed her husband? Had things gotten so desperate for her that she was led to a situation like that? Did she think that was her only way out? Would she do that knowing she still had two children who depended on her?

What about Perry now? She was in Kansas with his parents. He stopped and thought about that for a minute. Hell, Perry had really just become his daughter. A man like Luthor had probably even made provisions for his death and that meant Lois was in serious trouble. She wouldn’t so easily get out of this situation.

“Clark!”

He turned from where he was trying to get a soda from the machine in the lobby to see Perry and a young woman pushing their way in.

“Grab one of those officers and come with me.” He never slowed on his way toward the elevators. When Clark caught up, Perry nodded to Mayson. “Clark Kent, Mayson Drake. She’ll be Lois’ attorney.”

“Good to meet you,” the woman told him with a nod. She was on the other side of Perry, making it impossible for them to shake.

Clark returned her smile. “And you.” He stepped into the elevator with the others, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I take it you got the injunction?” he finally managed.

Perry waved the envelope at him. “Nobody’s left with him?”

“Nope. I’ve had a guy watching the parking garage as well.” He’d wanted to use his x-ray vision to make sure the baby was still inside, but with so many people coming and going it had been nearly impossible. But there had been no one leaving with a baby.

“I have papers to pick up the Luthor baby,” Perry told the officer. “I need you to make sure they hand him over without trouble.”

“May I?” The young man took the envelope and carefully extracted the paperwork. When he was satisfied, he tucked them back inside. “No problem, Mr. White.”

Clark looked up as the numbers ticked off the floors. He was glad when they made it to the top. Ms. Drake kept glancing at him and it was beginning to make him a bit uncomfortable. Granted, she was a beautiful woman and under other circumstances he might not have minded the attention. But…

The doors dinged and they all rushed toward the inner sanctum of the penthouse. Another officer stepped into their path.

“No one’s allowed in,” he told them.

“We just came for the baby.” Perry shook the paper in his hand.

A detective stepped forward and read over the order. “Take him to find the baby, then escort them downstairs.”

The group was led into a room, then another. Room after room was empty.

“Where is he?” Perry wanted to know.

“I have no idea,” the officer replied. “We’ll ask one of Luthor’s people.” He left the room as the impatient editor cooled his heels in the hallway outside the master suite. They’d even checked in there. They’d found the baby’s crib, but it was empty.

A few minutes later the officer returned with a short, portly Hispanic woman. “Thea says that Master Luthor is not here,” he repeated what the woman had told him in broken English.

“Where is he?”

“Me not know,” she informed him. “Mr. Asabi took him right before Mr. Luthor fall.”

“That son of a…”

“Calm down, Perry,” Mayson spoke up. “We have the order, so we’ll put out an APB. We’ll find him.” She was already dialing numbers on her phone and when there was an answer on the other end, she began barking orders.

“No wonder I didn’t see anyone leave with him,” Clark said, mentally kicking himself for not trying to look earlier.

“It’s not your fault,” Perry told him as he went into the room that had been Lois and the babies’ room. He rooted around until he found a bag and stuffed it full of things. “We need to get back to the Planet,” he declared when he’d packed a bag.

“Yeah.” Clark followed him out into the hall. “I’m gonna look around a bit.” He motioned toward another elevator on the opposite end.

“Do that, but be careful. I can’t have you in jail, too.”

He nodded at Perry, then hurried away. For the next few minutes he took a look around Lex Towers super style. What he found wasn’t really a surprise. The place had more secret tunnels and passageways than the White House was rumored to have. The thing that did confuse him was that below the parking garage there seemed to be even more, only he couldn’t really see it. It must have been lined with lead. Going down to get a better look was a bit tricky. He’d had to do it quickly to avoid detection. There were still a few guards scattered around.

“Loyal even after death,” he whispered as he pushed against a metal door. On the other side was what looked to be an apartment. Very nice, very tastefully decorated. Beyond that was another small apartment. Then another and another. There seemed to be endless rooms and corridors- a small city of bunkers. If he was reading the markings on the metal correctly, this had once been a fallout shelter. Why had Luthor built his empire on top of a bunker? It seemed the man had been like an onion, layers upon layers of mystery and intrigue, all so nasty it stung to think about it.

When he failed to find anything that could help them in their search for Perry’s brother, he headed back to the Planet. There would be a lot to do and the older Perry was probably fit to be tied.

***

Perry stomped through his newsroom a week later, slamming the door to his office. Jimmy watched him through the window as the older man threw an object off his desk at the wall. He eased from his seat and carefully opened the door to the chief’s office.

“Perry?”

Perry was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. He lifted his eyes to meet Jimmy’s. “They denied her bail.”

Jimmy shut the door and took the seat in front of Perry’s desk. “Chief, she couldn’t have done what they say she did.”

“I know. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell those nitwits all morning.” Perry leaned back in his chair. “Hell, they’ve already convicted her. Say she resented Luthor for making her give up her career. His reps are saying she chose to stay home with her son; that it wasn’t Lex that asked her to quit.”

“We’ll get her out of this, Perry.”

“We have to Jimmy. I promised that girl a long time ago I’d always take care of her. I can’t let her down.”

“We won’t.” Jimmy didn’t know that for sure, but he’d shake down every bum and businessman in the city if he had to in order to help his mentor with this.

“Where are we on finding the baby?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Perry’s voice rose in intensity. “Where could they have taken him?”

“Me, Jack, and Clark have picked through every single property he owns. We’ve contacted dozens of his constituents and even under threat of arrest, no one is turning over on him. If nothing else, they were terrified of Lex Luthor, even in death.”

With a swipe of his hand, Perry cleared his desk. He thrust himself to his feet and turned toward the window. “Leave me alone, Jimmy,” he said in a calmer, emotionless tone.

The younger man didn’t say a word, just got up and left, closing the door behind him. He hadn’t see Perry like this in… well, ever! The man sure loved that girl.

“He’s coming apart at the seams,” Jack noted as he stepped up to Jimmy’s side while they looked through the window at the man on the other side.

“Yeah.” He watched a moment before focusing on Jack. “Got anything?”

“Nada!”

“Damn!” Jimmy shook his head in disbelief and despair before heading back over to his desk. This might actually be the case that finally led the best editor in the world to retirement.

***

Clark bounced Perry on his knee while he made faces at her. It was amazing how a tiny person could change your entire outlook on life. He hadn’t flown back to see her much after leaving her with his folks, but in the last two weeks he felt she needed to know that someone loved her and cared about her, even if it wasn’t her mother. Truth was he was the one who needed the reassurance.

He’d also realized this little girl needed someone to protect her and care for her because she was blameless in whatever it was that had happened between her mother and father. Clark had been mildly upset with Perry for legally attaching him to the baby without asking him first, but now he knew it was something that he was glad Perry had done. His legal status as her father would ensure she always had a home. He might not have wanted something like this at this stage in his life, though there was no way he’d just turn her out. With Lois in jail, she had no one.

Jack had tried to find Lucy. Perry had initially intended to clean her up so he could use her to get custody of Lois’ son. Though now they really didn’t need her. There had been another tense moment when Clark learned Perry had spoken for him again during his meeting with Judge Burke. But looking at Perry, he couldn’t stay upset. He was already caring for Perry, he might as well add her brother to the mix. Besides, twins shouldn’t be apart.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Jonathan asked Clark. He’d just finished telling his parents about the situation with Lois and her son. In two weeks’ time, he would go with Perry and make it official. He’d become Xavier’s legal guardian. He’d toyed briefly with the idea of legalizing Perry as well, but Perry reminded him that until they knew more about Luthor and his death, they should leave things the way they were. Maybe, he’d said, in a few weeks they’d be able to get Lois to sign an affidavit so that little Perry would become her legal daughter as well.

Clark looked at the baby grinning widely at him. “Yeah, Dad. It’s what I want to do. They should be together.”

“That’s a lot of work, son.”

The young man looked up at his mother. “It’s a lot to ask you both. I know that, but please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Oh, honey, we don’t mind this kind of work,” Martha told him as she smoothed a hand over Perry’s head. “To have babies in this house again…” She sighed and sat down. “But, son, you don’t even know this woman. And you’re essentially taking the responsibility for her children. Clark, we’ve read the things in the paper. It’s not looking good for her. Are you prepared to raise these babies? If she’s convicted, it would be years before she got out.”

“What about then?” his dad wanted to know. “She’d want them. Could you give them back then?”

He pulled Perry up to his chest and patted her back. “I’d deal with that when the time came. All I know is that right now, this little girl needs someone to take care of her. I can’t explain it, but I *have* to do this.”

His parents exchanged a look before they both smiled. “It seems our son has finally found something he likes more than flying.” His mom patted his knee.

The baby leaned back to look at Clark and blew through her lips happily. “Yeah,” he answered with a chuckle. “I guess I have.” He played with the baby for a moment before he looked back up at his parents. “I’ll start flying out to help more. Maybe I can spend my nights off here to give you guys a break. I could even bring her out to Metropolis some.”

“Clark, that little beauty is home and we’ll love her like our own,” his dad assured him as he stood up. “Help out as much as you can.” He turned and headed outside. There were chores that needed doing and he couldn’t get to them from inside the house.

“Are the checks enough, Mom?”

“It’s too much, Clark. You don’t have enough left for yourself.”

“Perry’s helping. And Jimmy and Jack. They’re really great guys.” He smiled as he thought about the men he worked with. They really were special people. They were sacrificing a lot to help out Lois. She, too, must be something special. Clark found himself looking forward to meeting her. He’d been made an official part of her legal team- an investigator. He’d join Mayson and her legal assistant in two days when they went for their first briefing with Lois to set up her defense strategy.

In the meantime, a beautiful, dark haired baby girl wanted to play.

***

Clark met Mayson outside the Hall of Justice. Lois was still being held in county lock-up and would remain there until after the trial.

“Mr. Kent,” the young lawyer said as she stepped up beside him at the entrance. This time she extended her hand.

“Ms. Drake.” Clark shook her hand and smiled despite how uneasy he’d felt around this woman the last time they were together. He was looking at her face this time and her smile was very beautiful.

“My assistant couldn’t make it. I might need you to take a few notes for me,” she told him.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he told her as they started walking.

“It’s hard to believe men like you exist these days.” She continued toward the door and he fell in step beside her.

“I’m just doing what I can.”

“What you can is helping with the investigation or maybe testifying in court. Agreeing to take custody of a woman’s baby, a woman you don’t even know… Well, that’s something else entirely.”

Clark reached out to pull the door open. “I have a boy scout complex.” When she quirked a brow at him, he grinned. “At least that’s what I’m told.”

“Complex is probably the only way to explain this.” She smiled again and stepped up to the desk. Less than five minutes later, they were waiting in a conference cell reserved for lawyers and their clients.

A few moments later, Lois was led into the cell and sat down across the table from them without lifting her head. Even with her head down she looked as defeated as a person could.

“Lois, I’m Mayson Drake and this is Clark Kent.”

Slowly her eyes raised and Clark nearly gasped when he saw the shadows in her dark orbs. What had this woman been through?

“Is it safe to talk?” she wanted to know.

Clark glanced around to make sure they were not being bugged. But Mayson was the one to answer.

“Yes. It’s illegal for the police to listen in on our conversations. I’m going to be your lawyer.”

“All I want to know is that my babies are okay.” When she said that, a bit of fire flashed in her eyes.

“Babies?” Mayson asked. “As in more than one?”

“Yes. Babies!” Lois whispered fiercely. “I have twins- a girl and a boy.”

Mayson looked to Clark for answers. “Her daughter was never documented. Luthor didn’t want the girl.” He didn’t miss the look from Lois. “Lois felt her life was in danger and got her out. She’s safe.”

“Is she?” Lois asked as tears filled her eyes, pleading with Clark or Mayson to tell her something.

Clark’s gaze went to her and his heart leapt. She was… tearing him apart. Those large eyes looked so much like Perry’s. “She is,” he assured her as he reached into his front shirt pocket and pulled out a picture. “It was taken yesterday.”

Lois took the photo and held it like it was a fragile piece of glass.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Mayson told Clark. He merely nodded, much more intent on watching Lois. “Mrs. Luthor…”

“Lane. My name is Lois Lane.” Her eyes lifted and Clark swore she transformed before his eyes. “That’s the first thing I want. I want that to become legal.” Her eyes shifted to Clark. “Where’s Zay?”

“Your son?” he asked.

“Yes. I call him Zay because I can’t stand that name.” She focused on Mayson again. “Can I change that? His name?”

“Should you be worrying about that right now?”

“Let’s get something straight, Ms. Drake. The only thing I worry about is my children. Make me Lois Lane again. Change my son’s name to Collin Jerome Lane, then work on my defense strategy.”

Clark’s brows shot toward his hair. Jerome? Why Jerome? His middle name was Jerome.

Mayson seemed to understand Lois better than Clark thought she did. The woman smiled and opened her briefcase to take out several papers. She made a few notes on her notebook, then looked back up at Lois. “I’ll have the papers back here this afternoon for your signature. With Luthor dead, you have all rights concerning your son. But if the girl was never documented…” She stopped when Clark touched her arm.

“Trust me on that one, Ms. Drake. We’ll discuss it later. Just know that she’s okay.” He waited until she nodded before he moved his hand.

Lois glanced between them, then looked at the photo again. She didn’t know this Clark Kent but if Perry did, then he must be okay. Besides, he had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Speaking of your son…” Mayson pulled out another paper. “Perry asked me to get you to consider signing a petition to grant custody to someone who can be trusted to care for him until this is over.”

“You never told me where he was,” she said to Clark.

He shifted uncomfortably. He hated to have to tell this woman they hadn’t found her son.

Her eyes dropped away. “They have him, don’t they?”

They being Luthor’s people, Clark knew without asking. “We’ll find him.”

“You’ll try.” She wiped a stray tear and sighed heavily.

“And when they do, we need to be sure he’s cared for.” Mayson pushed the document across the table in front of Lois.

The woman read a moment before her eyes snapped up to Clark. “You want my baby?”

“I will take care of him until you can,” he replied as his eyes tried to explain what he simply couldn’t. There was this strange pull from Lois and it was upsetting his equilibrium.

“Who are you?”

“I work at the Planet.”

“A reporter?” He nodded. “With Perry?” Another nod. She looked down at the release form. “If I sign this, it’ll be filed before anyone can use it to say I’ve given away my son?”

“When you sign it, you’re transferring custody straight to Clark.” Mayson wasn’t as polite as Clark. She used his first name, obviously comfortable doing so. “It will be filed as soon as I leave here. We have a hearing with Judge Burke the week after next. She’s agreed to grant the petition if Clark is deemed suitable.”

“Are you?” she asked him directly.

“I have a good job, plenty of food, a clean, safe home. Don’t smoke, no drugs, and last time I checked, I wasn’t on any wanted lists.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said that, but it had come to his mind and he’d decided to do what Jack did- say it. When Lois began to laugh, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Cross dresser? Gay? Married?” she asked between fits of laughter.

He chuckled softly. “Ah, jeans are about as racy as I get. Not gay and not married. Although I’ve been called a mama’s boy a time or two.”

When Lois finally calmed, she looked at him intensely. “Are you a good reporter?”

“I’m okay. Haven’t won that first Kerth…”

“And you think you will?” she challenged.

“I know I will,” he shot right back. She was sizing him up and he wouldn’t disappoint her. There was something about Lois he couldn’t explain- she was… seriously affecting him.

Mayson had watched the exchange, a little disappointed at first. Then she remembered where this woman was.

And promptly wanted to kick herself. Thinking those terrible thoughts… But never mind that. She had a job to do. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out several papers. “This is Clark’s profile I’ve been putting together for the judge. Background check, financial history, job history… He’s an accomplished journalist, Ms. Lane. He’s won a couple of foreign awards. He has decent savings and money in his checking account. Only two credit cards with no balance, no other debt, no medical bills- in fact, no medical history.” She glanced at him, but he shrugged.

“I’ve never been sick.”

“What?”

“Really good genes,” he said and again, Lois smiled.

“Anyway,” Mayson went on. Her personal interest in Clark Kent would have to wait. “He graduated Mid-West with honors and athletic nods. He was even offered a contract to play professional football. His parents own their own farm in Kansas. He’s a good candidate to take custody.”

Lois continued to stare at Clark and was impressed that his gaze didn’t waver. This was a special man; she could see it in his eyes. But why would a man who didn’t know her want to do something like this? “What’s in it for you?” she asked him.

“I’ll know he’s safe and protected and you’ll have peace of mind.”

“You don’t know me,” she told him.

“No, but Perry does. And he says you’re worth it,” he said softly.

Whether it was the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes, she couldn’t say. But this was the right man to help her. “If Perry trusts him, so do I,” she said and finally looked back at Mayson. “I didn’t kill Lex.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened on that balcony?”

“Well, that could be a problem…” She tucked her hair behind her ear, sighed heavily, and slowly began to speak.

***

Mayson and Clark left the Hall of Justice over an hour after they’d gone in.

“It doesn’t look good, does it?” Clark asked Mayson as they made their way down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

“Honestly?” she asked as they stopped at the crosswalk. When he gave her a ‘tell me’ look, she sighed. “Lois has no one to corroborate anything she’s said. And we can’t use the report about the drugs because there’s no proof that she ever actually consumed any. She quit taking it when she first found them so there’s probably nothing in her system. Our only witness to anything is Jack. And he can only say that Lois gave him the napkin with the drugs in it and that Lois appeared drugged. It’s a drop in the bucket.”

Clark scratched the back of his head. It looked as if Luthor had sealed Lois’ fate, even from the grave.

“Tell me about the girl,” Mayson spoke up.

“Not here,” Clark said as he glanced around. “You should come to the Planet so Perry can help with the explanation.”

She smiled. “I should have known Perry would have something to do with it. I swear that man has his hands in more things…”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed with a chuckle. “Listen, I have to go. Work doesn’t stop.”

“No, unfortunately not.” Mayson suddenly seemed a bit nervous. “I’ll call Perry about sitting down for a rap session to discuss which direction we’ll go in.”

“I’ll be there.”

“And if I need you to run down anything…”

“Just call me. I’m on the directory.”

She gave a slight nod, then dug around in her bag to pull out a card. “I’ll write my cell down, in case I’m needed on the spur of the moment.” She penned her number, then extended it to him.

He took it, another smile across his lips.

“Maybe… we could have a drink sometime?”

Clark stared at her for a moment. He knew he’d read the vibes coming off this woman correctly. She was interested in him on more personal level. This was the last thing he needed right now. A relationship with the lawyer trying to help Lois could spell trouble. And they’d all have their hands full for a while. He didn’t- they didn’t- have time for this. Yet the look in her eyes, her smile- Mayson was a pretty lady and he found himself attracted to her as well. Even if thoughts of Lois Lane kept nagging at him.

“Ah, maybe we could,” he finally answered. He held up the card. “I’ll call you.”

“Do that.” She smiled again and turned to leave.

He waited until she was in her car across the street before he left. A second later a familiar sonic bomb echoed through the air.

***

The actual investigation on Luthor had to be put on hold until after a defense strategy could be worked out. It was three days later when Mayson made it the Planet to sit down with Perry and Clark. The editor quickly set them up in the conference room and ordered Jack to brew them a fresh pot of coffee.

“Jack and Jimmy here…” Perry waved his hand at the two men. “… will be joining us. They’ve got a stake in all of this, too.”

“That’s fine. Lois pretty much gave me complete discretion with her case.” Mayson took off her jacket and sat down. “Where’s Clark?”

“Covering an accident on the Stafford Turnpike. He’ll be here in a few minutes.” Perry sat and rifled through a few files before he leaned back in his chair. “Any news on the boy?”

“I was hoping you’d heard something,” Mayson answered. The police investigation was pretty much stalled. No police agency in the country wanted to touch the case until Perry started making threats about articles on cover-ups and police corruption. For the near month that the man had attained emergency custody, a nationwide dragnet had been cast to search for Collin Lane, as he was now known. Mayson had the change pushed through in less than twenty-four hours- a record in any jurisdiction. Even though Perry was being viewed as an idiot for taking on LexCorp, the fact that Collin was missing was now international news. The guys that knew guys that Perry knew were as varied as they were different. Luthor’s people couldn’t take that child anywhere in the world without being found eventually. Yet so far, they were doing a pretty fair job keeping him hidden.

“We’ve printed just under a million posters and nothing,” the old man said in a defeated tone.

“We’ve searched every building, house, henhouse, doghouse, and outhouse from here to Florida,” Jack spoke up. “You wouldn’t believe the number of outhouses!” He snorted comically at his own joke as he prepared coffee for the others.

Mayson grinned as she glanced up at the young man. No doubt Perry actually had them search every one of those places.

“Shoot us straight, Mayson,” Jimmy said as he sat down across the table. He’d met the lawyer before. “Lois is in trouble, isn’t she?”

“ Barring a miracle, yes.” She watched as the life seemed to drain from Perry’s face. He’d thought she could change the other woman’s fate. Truth was she wasn’t sure anyone could help Lois now.

A knock resounded on the door a second before Clark stuck his head through. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as he entered and closed them off again. “Mayson,” he said courteously. She flashed him a brief smile in answer. “Looking any better?” he asked her. He took a seat and grabbed a cup to pour himself some of the coffee in the pot on the table.

“No,” came her grave answer. “The best we can hope is an insanity plea with time in a hospital, not guilty on grounds of temporary insanity.”

“And Lois is actually gonna let you use that?” Jimmy asked her.

“She doesn’t have a choice. Unless you guys turn up something before the trial, we’ll have to go with it.” She shifted so she could look at Perry. “Lois told me something I didn’t know.” When Perry met her gaze, she went on. “She said she has a daughter.”

Perry glanced at Clark, then back to Mayson. “What I’m about to say can’t leave this room,” he warned her. “And being as you’re Lois’ lawyer and we’re discussing her case, I’ll consider anything I say just as confidential as her legal strategy.” He waited until she clasped her hands together across her lap, then leaned forward. “Legally, Lois doesn’t have a daughter.”

“I know. I checked.”

He glanced at Clark again, silently asking him if it was okay to tell her everything. When he gave a nod, he scooted closer, as if someone might hear him. “The baby girl was born first, effectively thrust aside by Luthor. He didn’t want her, so I imagine that’s why there was nothing about her birth on the certificate.”

“So, how did you find out?” She shook her head. “Scratch that. Just go on.” She knew Perry way too well. He had a way of finding out things that should be classified by the government.

“No doubt he used the girl to help control Lois. Otherwise, he’d have probably just gotten rid of her.” He scratched the back of his head. “Anyway, Jack here started going to the park a while back so that he could make sure Lois was okay.”

“That’s how he got the napkin with the drugs?”

“Yeah. She stopped going to the park for a while. Then one day she was back. Another note asked Jack to take a baby doll and leave it in the restroom close to where they always sat.”

“And you exchanged the doll for the baby?” Mayson deduced.

“We thought it was the boy until we read the note she left with her.”

“What did the note say?” She looked around at the others who were all listening patiently.

“It said the baby was in trouble. Protect her and that Lois called her Perry.”

The woman couldn’t help but smile. Obviously Lois thought a lot of the man in front of her. “Okay, so where is she now?”

“At my folks place in Kansas,” Clark spoke up. He sat up closer to Mayson as well. “But it’s important that her real identity stays secret. For whatever reason Lois wanted this and we’ll keep her as long as we need to.”

“Your parents just took her in?”

He made a funny face. “Well… legally, they took in their granddaughter.”

Mayson’s eyes widened at that implication, then her head snapped around to Perry. “What did you do?”

“I called in a few favors. It’s all on the up and up,” he assured her.

“I’m sure it is.” He was about to say something else, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t want to know.” Facing Clark again, she asked, “And you just let him do this? Without really knowing Lois?”

“I’ve met her. I saw enough to know I’ve done the right thing.” His voice was quite adamant. If Mayson wanted to argue about this, he’d give her a good one. “It doesn’t matter why I did it. It’s done. She’s… mine and until Lois is out of this, she’s got a safe, loving home.”

The woman couldn’t believe this man. Taking in a child that wasn’t his, then agreeing to take another. All without even knowing the woman he was doing it for. Was he for real? Was it genuine? Or did he have a motive? What did he want for his part in this? As she looked at him she realized the answer. He wanted to help- plain and simple.

“All right then,” Mayson said after a few minutes. “Let’s get to work.”

Clark exchanged a look with Perry before they settled in to see if they could find a way to get Lois out of the hole Luthor had cast her in.

***

Clark jogged down the hall toward the courtroom where Judge Burke would hear the review of Perry’s emergency injunction. Mayson and Perry turned toward him and motioned for him to hurry up. They were sitting down a moment later. Judge Burke read through the file before lifting her eyes to the three people across from her.

“I have reviewed the recommendation from Mr. White for his choice of custodian of the minor child…” She read again. “Collin Jerome Lane. I wasn’t sure why Ms. Lane changed his name, but that’s her prerogative. Ms. Drake has prepared a very thorough background of the candidate in question, Mr. Clark Kent. The social worker that made the home visit had a glowing review of you, young man,” she said directly to Clark.

He gave her a slight smile and a nod.

“This is a highly unusual case. Even though I’ve been pressured by various organizations and individuals… And that’s no admission of anything,” she said to Mayson. “I stand by the decision I made to grant the emergency injunction. I have watched your plight to find the boy, Mr. White, and I want it put on record that I will do anything I can to assist in that search.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Perry told her.

“Whomever has taken Collin Lane is committing a crime because as of this moment…” She signed a piece of paper. “He is the legal child of Clark Kent.”

Clark let out a deep breath. It felt almost like he’d gained custody of his own child.

“I’ve spoken to Ms. Lane and she assured me this is what she wants. I wish you luck, Mr. Kent. And I see no reason to review this case until Ms. Lane asks for a review.” With a bang of the gavel, Clark’s fate as single father to another child he didn’t know was sealed.

Mayson stood and lifted the strap of her case over her shoulder. “I received a call this morning from a friend. He’s also a former DEA agent. He’s a private investigator now, very good at what he does. He’s seen all the media attention surrounding Collin’s abduction and wants to help.”

Clark and Perry exchanged a glance. “We could use all the help we can get,” Perry said.

“I’ll tell him to get in touch with you at the Planet.”

“Good.” Perry looked at his watch. “I have a meeting with a source.” He clapped Clark’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you how much what you’re doing means to me, son.”

“I have pretty good idea,” Clark answered. And he did. He could see Perry’s emotions on his face, in his mannerisms. It nearly killed him to have to watch the man crumbling, but lately that’s what had been happening.

When Perry was gone, Mayson motioned toward the door. They started out, walking side by side. “I know things have been crazy, but I was wondering if you’d like to have that drink.”

Clark looked up at her. “How about Friday? I’m flying out tonight to see Perry. I’ll be gone until then.”

“Oh, okay. Friday, at Mulligan’s in the Bay?”

“That sounds great.” He reached out to touch her arm. “Thanks for pushing things through so quickly.”

“I just hope we can find the little fellow.”

“Me, too. I have a meeting next week with the National Center for Missing Children. The director feels sure we can get this on the international watch list.”

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” He smiled and turned to leave.

Mayson watched him walk away. Kent had to be the most special man alive. And he was damn good-looking to boot. What more could she ask for?

***

Lois paced her tiny cell the way she always did. They’d put her alone because of who she was married to. Too many people disliked Luthor and several had already tried picking a fight with his widow. Though several had also thanked her.

“Good evening, Mrs. Luthor.”

She whirled around when she heard that voice. “Nigel. What are you doing here?”

“Let’s just say I’m protecting my interests.”

“Your interests died on the pavement below the Tower.”

He did something he rarely did- he smiled. “Ah, but working for Lex Luthor was an invaluable experience. He taught me well.”

“You mean you learned how to stab people in the back like he did on a regular basis.”

“Call it what you will.” He shrugged as best he could with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Just cut to the chase, Nigel.” She crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to do anything other than what she’d told him to do.

“We have your son.”

Her arms slowly dropped and she stepped over to the bars. “Where is he?”

“Safe, for now.”

“Don’t you dare do anything to my baby,” she whispered.

“Relax. He’s important to a lot of people. And right now, so are you.”

“What?”

“It seems Mr. Luthor had incredible legal ties before his death.”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” she snapped and turned to pace back toward her bunk.

“Those ties forced him to place an undisclosed amount of money in an offshore account…”

Lois turned back to look at him, a smile starting to stretch out across her? face. “Seems my dear husband needs me even in death. Or should I say his Mr. Belvedere does?”

“I only want what’s owed me,” Nigel continued. He reached into his pocket and extracted a few papers. “Sign these and your darling son will remain healthy and happy.”

“I need more insurance than your word.”

“Then how about this? Don’t sign them and he’s dead by dawn.”

Her horrified eyes searched his to see if he was telling the truth. “If he’s so important, you can’t afford to kill him,” she ventured. What did she have to lose at this point?

Nigel studied her for a moment before he pulled a small, metal device from another pocket. He clicked the keys on the front, then held it up so she could see the screen.

“Collin,” she breathed as she watched the little boy playing on the monitor. He was laughing at someone she couldn’t see.

“Yes, little *Collin* is quite content with his new nanny.”

As Lois continued to watch, the woman came into view. “Lucy?”

“Strange what kinds of incentives get a junkie to clean up her act.” He turned the machine off and put it back in his pocket. “She calls him Collin, too.” He shook the papers. “Sign them and she continues to care for him.”

“You have to give me your word as an agent.” Nigel had once been a spy and tended to be loyal to no end.

“You have my word.”

She quickly penned her name to the papers and shoved them toward him. “That’s not all, is it?”

“Perry White.” Nigel stuffed the papers back into his jacket. “He’s getting under too many people’s skin. We need him to stop his investigation.”

“I can’t make Perry…”

“You can if you want him to live.”

An involuntary gasp escaped before she could stop it.

“The people I’m employed by now have the power to strip him of his good name and discredit him in the world of journalism. Is that what you want?”

She looked away from him.

“Make him stop.”

“What’s in it for me besides his life?”

“Ten years on an insanity conviction. If he continues, recommendation for the death penalty.”

“Lex has already taken my life,” she spat at him.

Nigel stepped back and held out his hand. For the first time Lois saw another man that had been lurking in the shadows. He turned over the paper in his hand and started flipping through the pictures he held. “Look at them. The DA, the judge who’ll hear your case, even prospective jurors have already been appropriated. Your conviction is already paid for. But you’re right. Death would be too easy. Life in prison without the possibility of parole… well, that would be a fate worse than death. And to have to spend all of that time in solitary confinement, unable to have visitors except the guard that delivers your meals… It would be most unfortunate.”

“Wasn’t that the whole reason for this? Somebody uglier and more evil than Lex set this all up and you helped him.”

The man behind Nigel took the pictures and handed him some more papers. “The agreement’s drawn up. Think about it, Mrs. Luthor. Ten years and you’re able to see your precious children again or look at your own cold image for the rest of your life.”

“Perry wouldn’t want me to sign it.”

His fierce gaze held hers as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Yes,” he said when there was an answer on the other end. “Break his arm.” He pulled the small monitor out of his pocket again and passed it to the man behind him who turned it on and held it up so Lois could see. She watched as a man approached her son sitting on the floor. He lifted him up, then flipped him upside down by his leg.

“No!” she yelled. “I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt him.”

“Put him down,” Nigel said into the phone and the crying, frightened baby was shoved toward his frantic aunt.

Lois’ cold stare never wavered as she signed the forms and tossed them back. “I want him back when this is over.”

“I assure you, Mrs. Luthor, you can have him back when this is over.” He waited for the man to gather up the all of the papers, then disappeared as mysteriously as he’d appeared.

For the first time in a long time Lois didn’t feel like pacing. She dropped to her bunk, completely defeated. That bastard had won. He’d won it all.

***

Clark laughed fully, his eyes dancing with joy. He felt good tonight- the first time in a long time.

“You have a gorgeous smile,” Mayson admitted. His smile faltered a bit as he looked at her, the intensity of it causing her to blush. “Wow. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

“Don’t be.” He reached out to squeeze her upper arm. They were sitting at the bar sharing that drink they’d set a date for. “I happen to think you have a great smile, too.”

She blushed even more, then leaned up on the bar. “So, how are you adapting to single parenthood?”

“It’s… different. Exhausting, exhilarating, and scary.” He grinned, more to himself than to her. He’d spent the last two days with Perry and he’d had a blast. She was pulling up, laughing a lot, and babbling. “She took her first step yesterday.”

“That’s great,” Mayson said with enthusiasm she wasn’t sure she felt. While she was happy for him, it was something she couldn’t understand. She had this… thing about kids.

“Doing… that,” Clark tried to explain. “It’s made me feel more… alive than I’ve felt in a long time.”

“And all of that fathering the child of a woman you barely know.”

“Strange, huh?” He took a sip from his beer. “I have no idea why I agreed to do any of this, but I’m glad I’ve done it now. I’ll just be glad when we can bring her brother home with her.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she asked, her expression as disbelieving as she felt. Men just didn’t do things Clark had done.

“Yeah. Want another drink? Or would you rather take a walk?”

“Let’s walk.” Mayson emptied her glass and followed Clark out into the cool night air.

They strolled along the riverfront for a while talking about their respective jobs, things they’d done in college, and places they’d been. Mayson had also traveled a bit. She’d decided to become a lawyer to right the many injustices in the world. Her father had been a policeman, her mother a homemaker. She’d been an honors student, in a sorority, and was offered a position in the DA’s office. She was smart, funny, and driven. Her job was important to her and she worked hard. Clark found himself incredibly attracted. It had been a long time since he’d met a woman he wanted to spend time with. It was the wrong time, and she was the wrong woman, yet he couldn’t stop his attraction to her.

He had to force himself to keep from thinking about Lois Lane, something he’d done a lot of since he’d met her. She was… incredible. Even after everything she’d been through there was a fire in her eyes not many women possessed. Clark wished he’d met her a few years ago. He was sure he’d have fallen…

Fallen for her?! That’s why it was important to get her out of his head. Lois was… She had a lot on her plate. The last thing she needed was for some strange man to become infatuated with her. And how would that do him any good? She was in jail- would probably be there for a *long* time. Lois might have moved him, but he couldn’t let her get under his skin.

That was why he should just stop thinking and concentrate on the woman at his side. Never mind how he felt about Lois Lane, a woman he didn’t even know.

A woman whose children he was legally responsible for.

The whole situation was so incredible it was almost laughable.

But not tonight. He wouldn’t think about all of that tonight.

He and Mayson continued to talk and walk. She lived in the theater district, just down the block from the Imperial.

“Great place to live,” he commented as they continued toward her building.

“Yeah. I might not seem the type, but I love the pace. This section of the city rarely sleeps.”

“Must make getting your rest hard.”

“Top floor,” she said as she pointed up. “And a very modern building. The super put in soundproofing.”

Clark laughed softly as they stopped just outside the gate that led to the front doors. “I sure hope you didn’t drive tonight.”

They both laughed because he was only just now mentioning it. “No. I take a cab when I go for drinks. And I love Mulligan’s.”

“It’s a great place.”

“Maybe we could go again.”

The hesitation in her voice was endearing and he found himself drawing closer to her. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “I was thinking about dinner at Callard’s.”

“Dinner’s good,” she said and swallowed the lump in her throat.

His eyes flashed to her lips just before he leaned in to kiss her softly. It was a light touch, leaving him wanting more. But he drew away. “Tuesday night?”

“At seven?”

“I’ll meet you there.” Another brush of his fingers across her cheek and he walked away. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard her sigh. He felt like doing it himself. Mayson was a great woman and he’d enjoyed himself tonight. It had been entirely too long since he’d spent time with a woman. He’d been so busy he’d barely had time to think. He deserved time for himself. And Mayson was an easy person to be around. Sure he’d see her again.

And maybe he’d kiss her again.

***

Clark was typing furiously when Perry stepped up beside him.

“Get all of the files you have on the Luthor investigation and bring them to my office.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, just strode over to Jimmy’s desk and repeated his request. Ten minutes later, Clark joined both men, along with Jack behind the closed door of the editor’s office.

Perry looked up at the three men. They were all holding large stacks of files. “Is that all?” They confirmed that it was. He pointed toward a trunk on the floor beside his desk. “Put it in there.” When they had, he dropped a stack of his own in and slammed the top down. The lock clicked and he stood up again. “It’s over.”

“What’s over?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“The case.” Perry sat back down, fully expecting his action to dismiss the men.

“Wait a damn minute,” Jack spoke up. “I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this thing for her, for you!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Perry asked as his head snapped up so he could look at the man. “It’s what she wants. I’ve been arguing with her since dawn. She wants it closed. Said if I didn’t she’d have Mayson strip Clark of his custody of Collin.”

“She can’t do that,” Clark argued. “She must not have read them through. The only way she can influence custody again is to be out of jail.”

“Yeah, but the bastard who’s making her do this can take custody permanently.”

Realization dawned on them all.

“She’d being threatened,” Jimmy deduced. “More reason we should continue this investigation.”

“If we do, they’ll break Collin’s little legs. Is that what you want?” All three men stared at him in shock. “I tried to talk some sense into her, but it’s too late. She signed a deal with the prosecutor. The judge is going to sign the order in an hour sentencing her to ten years in the state prison.”

“I don’t believe this,” Jack said and walked out, slamming the door.

“She can’t do this. All of that work. We’re close Perry, I know we are,” Jimmy begged him.

“Just… let it go, Jimmy,” he said between clenched teeth. He was so furious with that girl. He’d known she was stubborn, but he hadn’t realized just how much until today.

Jimmy threw up his arms and went to find Jack. Maybe they’d skip out on the rest of the day and get wasted. They certainly deserved it after all they’d done.

“What about Perry and Collin?” Clark wanted to know.

“That won’t change. They’re still yours.”

“You mean she doesn’t want us to stop looking for him?”

“I don’t want us to stop. I’ll quit investigating Luthor, but if we find that baby, all bets are off.”

“How can we find him without investigating Luthor?” When Perry didn’t answer, Clark turned in anger. He was so upset he jerked the door completely off the hinges. He quickly stood it against the wall, then strode toward the stairwell. How could he be mad at a woman he didn’t know?

He flew straight to the county lock-up only to be told Lois had already been transferred to the prison. Clark couldn’t believe how quickly the wheels of justice could move when enough money changed hands. Frustrated beyond belief, he flew aimlessly for a while, trying to sort out why it was suddenly so important to help a woman who didn’t appear to want it. When nothing came to mind and he began to feel so wound up he couldn’t see, he turned toward Kansas. He needed to hold the little girl who could ground him more effectively with just a smile than even the biggest story could.

***

“Clark, do you want to go?”

He looked up at Mayson and tried to smile, but it was forced. “Maybe we should. I’m not very good company tonight.”

“She made her choice,” Mayson pointed out.

“I know. Sometimes it’s hard to accept what others feel is the right thing.”

“Not much we can do about it.”

He laid his fork down and wiped his mouth. “Isn’t there?”

She smiled at him. “You got me. I’m a lot like Perry. I don’t give up.” She leaned forward on the table. “I’m not sure what game Nigel’s playing, but I intend to find out. He ordered Perry not to investigate. Not me.”

“Nigel was the one who threatened her?”

“Yeah. We have him on tape going in. The officer who turned his head is being brought up on charges for taking bribes. And he’s talking.”

This time Clark’s smile wasn’t forced. “I like your style.”

“Enough to go to a game with me Thursday night?”

“Absolutely.” Clark held her gaze, allowing himself to soak up the vibes coming from the woman who made him tingle when he was near her. It was strange to feel that way about a woman other than Lana. He’d dated other women, even kissed a few. Some were incredibly attractive and he was drawn to them. But this- how he’d felt with Lana and now- it felt heady and exciting. It almost felt like he was doing something wrong. Was it supposed to feel that way?

Who cared?

“Let’s get out of here,” he told her and stood up. He dropped enough money down to pay for dinner and for a nice tip, then held Mayson’s coat for her. They walked to her place again, talking much the same way they’d done the week before. But this time Mayson reached out to hold his arm. He smiled over at her, silently encouraging the contact. He liked the attention of a beautiful woman and she didn’t seem to mind giving it.

Halfway to her place, he heard a cry for help. He stopped and looked at her with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Mayson. I need to go.”

“What?” She was completely surprised by his abrupt announcement.

He kissed her cheek and turned to leave.

“Clark?”

“I’m really sorry,” he called over his shoulder as he hurried away. The call sounded urgent.

It was later, when he was settling in bed that he thought about his quick exit. As much as he liked Mayson, he needed to be Superman. More now than ever. Superman gave him focus.

Superman also caused him to end more relationships before they really started. He couldn’t very well tell every woman he liked about his super side. Lana had known him since they were kids, so it was never an issue with her. She understood his need to help and encouraged him to do so. He could run out on her just before they had sex and she wouldn’t rip him apart the next day because of it. But others, including Mayson, didn’t know that. And he couldn’t tell them.

That was why he often distanced himself when a woman showed interest in him. It helped that he didn’t find many women attractive enough to act on it. Sure, he’d dated just for the company and he’d probably do so again. But his attraction to Mayson was a bit stronger than most. And he was sure he’d confused the hell out of her tonight.

She didn’t deserve that. He should just bow out gracefully.

Only he didn’t want to. He wanted to see her again.

And for the first time in his life, he decided this time he’d do what he wanted to do. Everything else could be dealt with. He’d call her tomorrow and apologize. Hopefully she’d still want to go to that game.

If she did, he wouldn’t run out on her.

***

Clark apologized to Mayson and she accepted. They made it to the game together, then dinner again. A movie the week after that. They enjoyed each other’s company and spent time together as often as they could. Superman had even left them alone, for the most part.

Work was relentless, but Clark handled it like a pro. His writing was first rate. What he didn’t enjoy was watching Perry slowly go to pieces. The editor often came to work without shaving or even combing his hair. He didn’t speak as much as he once did, and he rarely came out of his office. And he absolutely refused to talk about Lois Lane. The one thing he did without fail was his weekly plea on the early news show for the safe return of Collin Lane. He also joined Clark every other week to meet their rep with the National Center for Missing Children.

Jack and Jimmy began to shine as well. Jimmy’s photography was beginning to draw attention. His work was featured regularly nationwide. Jack was often asked by various law enforcement agencies to handle delicate research for them. Clark also learned that Jack had a brother. Denny had just turned sixteen and started an internship at the Planet. He was the newest runner, which basically meant he was a glorified errand boy.

But what really brought out the best in Clark was fatherhood. It might have been forced upon him, but he had never done anything quite as satisfying. Perry was growing in leaps and bounds. She would turn one in less than a week and it was hard to tell who was more excited- Clark or his mother. The older Kents cherished their new role as grandparents. Perry was the light of their eyes and they lavished love on her as if she was their own. Of course, by now she was.

Inside the walls of the Metropolis Women’s Prison, Lois Lane rarely moved from her bunk. She stared at the wall, unseeing and emotionless. She rose each morning to go to breakfast, worked her morning shift, went to lunch, worked her evening shift, went to dinner, then sat until time to sleep. But most of the time she simply lay awake staring the ceiling. Thoughts of one day seeing her children again filled her mind. Other than that, it was hard to tell she was even alive. Lex Luthor had robbed her of everything.

***

Perry looked up when Clark pecked on his door.

“Chief?” he said tentatively as he stepped into the room.

“Yeah?”

“My folks are coming in this weekend for Perry’s birthday. I was wondering if you’d join us for the party.”

The old man stared at him for so long he was sure he’d say no. Finally he smiled, the first one Clark had seen in weeks. “I think that would be fun. I’d love to see that little beauty.”

Clark returned his smile, letting go of the breath he’d been holding. “Good. Friday night at seven.”

“Your place?”

“Yeah. And bring your appetite.” He was about to leave, but turned back again. “Bring Alice, too.”

A shadow passed over Perry’s face. “She might not be able to make it.” He leaned back and sighed heavily. “She and I have been… taking a break.”

“What?” Clark went back and sat down in one of the chairs.

“Guess I haven’t exactly been myself.” He made a sour expression. “Can’t say I blame her. I’ve let this thing with Lois eat me up.”

“Maybe it’s time to accept that she really doesn’t want help,” Clark ventured. Lois had refused to see anyone, even Mayson. She’d refused letters as well. She had sent one to Perry, telling him that she’d accepted her fate and that it was time for all of them to move on. She’d expressed her gratitude to them for making sure Perry was cared for. And her final request was that if they ever did find Collin, to kiss him and tell both her children how much their mother loved them.

“I think maybe it is,” Perry said after a moment. He stood and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. “What can I bring along to this shindig?”

“Just yourself, and Alice if you can get her to come.” Clark had only met Mrs. White once, but he’d liked her immediately. She reminded him of his own mother. “Maybe you could ask her to come as a date. Take her for a walk after or maybe for coffee. Romance her again.”

“I think you might have something there, son. I think I will ask her.”

Clark stood up with a wide smile on his face. It was so good to see the shadows behind Perry’s eyes lift, if only for a second.

“Speaking of romance,” Perry said as he walked with Clark to the door. “How’s it going with Mayson?”

The younger man knew better than to ask how Perry knew he was seeing Mayson. It wasn’t a secret, but they hadn’t advertised it either. Perry just seemed to know everything. “We’re getting to know one another slowly.”

“Good idea. Just don’t take too long. Life’s short and things tend to get away from you.”

A reference to the many changes Perry had seen over the last few years. “I know, Chief.”

The editor clapped his top reporter’s shoulder as Clark stepped through the door. “Now go get me something for the evening edition, would you?”

“No problem.” Clark went back to work with a little more optimism than he’d had that morning. Maybe there was hope Perry would come around after all.

***

“This looks great, Mom,” Clark remarked of the spread she put out for Perry’s birthday party. The counter was covered in food- burgers and dogs Jonathan had grilled on the balcony. It was cold out, but they’d opted for the traditional summer fare anyway. Streamers and balloons were everywhere and the cake was tucked next to the stove, still covered.

“Make sure we have enough ice,” she told him. “And make sure there’s enough beer and soda.”

“Mom, we have enough for an army,” Clark assured her as he checked the supply for the third time. He couldn’t ever remember his mother being so wound up about something. They’d briefly discussed having the party on the farm because of the risk to Perry, but in the end decided that they really wanted to share this special day with their friends. After all, they wouldn’t have Perry without the others.

A few minutes later Jack and Jimmy arrived together, along with Denny.

“Man, CK, your mom knows how to put out the pig,” Jack remarked. “I haven’t seen this much food since Thanksgiving at the shelter.”

Clark and Jimmy laughed at the other man. Jack and Denny had been homeless for a while right after their parents died. They’d often gone without enough to eat and it still amazed them when there was more than enough to go around.

“Hey, Clark,” Denny asked softly. The boy was painfully shy. “Can we really eat as much as we want?”

“Yes, you can, young man,” Jonathan answered for his son. He stuck out his hand to greet the boy. “I’m Clark’s dad, Jonathan.”

“Denny,” the boy replied as he shook hands with him. “Think it would be okay to get a drink?”

“Absolutely.” Jonathan motioned for the boy to follow him into the kitchen.

“Don’t be a nuisance,” Jack warned him.

“He’s at home,” the older Kent informed him. That made Denny smile brightly.

“So where’s the birthday girl?” Jimmy wanted to know. He hadn’t seen the baby since the day they took her from the park. Clark had tons of pictures, but it wasn’t the same.

“Good question.” Clark went in search of his little girl. She was sitting in the clothes basket at the end of his bed, all of his clean socks lying on the floor. She looked up at him and grinned, those bottom teeth shining brightly. “Hey you.” He bent to lift her out and carried her to the living room.

“Wow! What a knock-out,” Jimmy exclaimed. He grabbed her little hand and shook it. She pulled away and fell over on Clark’s shoulder. “Aww, she’s adorable, CK.”

“I still say she could pass for your real kid,” Jack told them as he peered at her over Clark’s shoulder. “Maybe you’ve fed her too long.”

“What?” Clark said with a snort of laughter. Jack said some of the craziest things.

“Mom always said that if you feed a kid too long she’ll start to look like you.” He flopped down on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table.

“Jack, you are so full of…”

“Watch your mouth!” Martha scolded before Jimmy uttered the dirty word.

“Yes, ma’am.” He went over and held out his hand. “I’m Jimmy Olsen. We’ve talked on the phone.”

“I know who you are, honey.” And she ignored his hand to hug him instead, pleasantly surprising him.

“Hey, CK, I love your mom,” he said without releasing her.

She laughed as she leaned back to look at him. “You sure are a handsome fellow.”

“Oh, yeah, CK,” Jimmy said as he turned and threw his arm over her shoulder. “I love her.”

Clark laughed as he rubbed Perry’s back. After a few minutes she decided she wasn’t shy anymore. When she wriggled to get down, Clark bent and set her on her feet. She’d learned to waddle quite well lately and was off in search of something new to discover.

“I swear, Clark, you were born to be a daddy,” Jack remarked as he watched the other man.

“You’ll be a great one someday, too.”

“Whatever,” Jack nearly laughed out and sat up to get a better look at the little girl who felt he was interesting. “Jimmy’s right,” he whispered to the baby. “You’re a gorgeous baby.” Her hair was curly and unruly and she had the biggest, dark eyes. Dimples covered her cheeks and plump, red lips looked puckered all the time. She and Jack played the staring game for several moments before she decided he was okay and smiled at him. “Oh wow! She smiled at me!”

Clark laughed at his enthusiasm as he went to answer another knock at the door. Mayson grinned at him from the other side. “Hey you,” he told her and held out his hand.

She took it and stepped inside. “I was worried about what to wear.”

He glanced at her, an appreciative glow in his eyes. She was wearing jeans and a form-fitting sweater under her brown leather jacket. “I like this,” he told her softly. She shrugged out of her coat and he hung it up, then pointed to the table near the closet where the gifts were. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that?” Jack wanted to know. He was still playing the ‘stare and smile’ game with Perry.

Clark continued to hold Mayson’s hand as they stepped down into the living room. “Mayson, this is Perry,” he said as he bent and ruffled the baby’s hair with his free hand.

Mayson pulled her hand from Clark’s and bent to get a better look. “You’re just too cute,” she told the baby.

Perry looked up at her, trying to decide if she was okay, too. When she couldn’t make up her mind, she went back to her game with Jack.

“A little shy, huh?” Mayson asked as she stood up.

“Yeah. Mom says she’s getting better though.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen and the woman followed him. “Mom, this is Mayson. Mayson Drake, Martha Kent.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kent,” Mayson said as she extended her hand.

“Where we’re from, we hug,” Martha explained and promptly did so. The younger woman was as surprised as Jimmy had been.

“Well,” Mayson said as she looked at Martha. “I think I like that,” she managed so softly she could barely be heard.

Clark glanced from her to his mother, a smile on his face. He placed an arm around Mayson’s shoulder and pulled her close to his side. Jonathan walked over with Denny.

“I like this kid,” Jonathan remarked as he approached the others.

“Dad, this is…”

“Mayson,” he finished for his son. “You’re as pretty as Clark said you were.” He, too, leaned forward for a hug.

“Thank you, Mr. Kent.”

“Jonathan and this is Martha.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“How about something to drink?” Jonathan asked her.

“I’ll get her something,” Denny offered and ran back over to the cooler. He’d been denied his childhood so long, it was hard to believe he was as old as he was.

“What do you have?” Mayson wanted to know.

“Soda, water, tea, and beer,” Martha answered as she set out the plates.

“A beer would be good.”

Denny was about to reach into the cooler, but stopped. “Jack, am I allowed to get that?”

“Ah, well, maybe I should,” Jack told him as he got up to go into the kitchen. “Might as well get one for myself,” he mumbled as he reached into the ice.

There was another knock, then the door opened. “Let’s get this party started,” came Perry’s booming voice.

Clark smiled widely as he looked around. Alice was with him. “I’m glad you both made it.” He met them and hugged Alice closely.

“Strangest thing,” Alice started. “I got a call today from a man that said he had seen me around and wanted to know if I’d like go on a date with him. Said he’d show me a real good time. Good food, a few laughs, and nightcap with a few friends. Said he’d even take me for a walk.” She cut her eyes toward Perry. “I haven’t walked in the city in a long time.”

“Sounds like fun,” Clark told her as he shot Perry a glance.

The older man’s eyes had fallen on the baby while his wife was introduced to everyone.

“Hey, there, sweetie,” Perry crooned to the curious baby as he bent to lift her up. The child stared at him warily. “I’m your Papa Perry. We have the same name.” She glanced toward Clark, then stared back at the older Perry. “And you look so much like your mother.” A lone tear rolled down the man’s cheek just before he leaned forward to kiss her face. When she began to squirm, he placed her back on her feet. “Okay, I get it.”

She ran toward Clark, seeking safety in his arms. “Hey, it’s okay. Papa Perry is a great guy,” he told her as he held her.

“Eat!” she said loudly.

Everyone laughed aloud.

“I second that,” agreed Jack on his way to the kitchen.

***

Clark walked along with Mayson after the party. Perry had fallen asleep a short time ago, exhausted from the night’s events. She’d screamed when Clark put her hand in her cake, after she’d stared at it for three full minutes. She’d torn open her gifts with gusto, laughing with each new discovery. She and Jack had played their game again. Denny gave her a piggyback ride. And she’d finally allowed Perry to hold her. It had been a great party with lots of laughter, something they’d all desperately needed.

Jonathan had found a new buddy in Denny and they’d made plans to go out to Hobbs Bay the next day to go fishing. Denny had never been fishing. Martha and Alice were going shopping. Both couples were ‘double dating’ tomorrow night. Perry had left just before he and Mayson did for that walk with Alice. Superman had even managed to leave them alone tonight.

The only thing that unsettled Clark was Mayson. She seemed to have had a good time like everyone else, but Clark had spent a lot of time with her alone and he’d begun reading her moods. There was something… not quite right with her tonight.

“Mayson, does it bother you that I have Perry?” he asked. He’d noticed the way she looked at the little girl. As much as he enjoyed his time with Mayson, if she had a problem with Perry, then he had a problem with her.

The woman sighed and glanced up at her building. They’d managed to get all the way to her place on small talk. “Why don’t you come up and I’ll tell you what’s on my mind?”

He, too, glanced at the building. He’d never gone up to her apartment at the end of the night. In fact, tonight was the first time she’d been to his place. They’d been taking things slowly, simply enjoying the building attraction. “Okay.”

They stepped into her place a few minutes later. The living room was large and open. The kitchen was off to the side, part of the larger room. A door on the far wall was probably the opening to the bedroom. Clark ventured across the space and looked out of the tall, wide window. There was a huge balcony that stretched out in front.

“Nice,” he said of the large outside area. There was a patio table and chairs, a grill, and a fireplace.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mayson kicked off her shoes on her way to the bar near the window.

“I think I’m good.” He turned and went over to take a seat on the end of her loveseat.

She sighed before sitting opposite him. “You having Perry doesn’t bother me.”

“It just seems like it does. I saw the way you looked at her.”

Mayson tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, deciding she could tell him the truth. “Clark, I lost a daughter three years ago.”

His brows rose in surprise. “What?”

“She was three months old. Her digestive tract was enlarged and it became infected. The infection spread to her bloodstream.” Mayson stared at a spot on the floor. “She went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up again.”

Clark closed his open mouth. He was stunned. As wonderful as Mayson was, maternal in any way was not part of her personality. “I, ah, I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“If I look at Perry like…” She half smiled and looked around like she was lost. “… I’m studying her, it’s because I’m trying to picture what my baby would have looked like if she’d lived to see her first birthday.”

Clark stood and went over to kneel in front of her, taking one of her hands in his. “I’m glad you told me.”

“If I look at you like I can’t believe you’re real, it’s because I’m wondering how one man can be so much different than the next one.”

“Did he leave you?”

“No. We fell apart when the depression consumed us both. I simply meant that in my line of work, I see all kinds.” She leaned closer, their noses nearly touching. “You’re just too good to be true.”

Clark pressed his lips to hers in a brief touch. “I’m real,” he assured her.

“I know.” She was about to kiss him again when her television automatically turned on. He glanced over at it, a questioning look on his face. “Timer. I don’t like coming home to a quiet apartment. And I’m usually not in this early.”

“This early?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“What can I say? I’m a workaholic.”

He grinned, then kissed her again before he stood up. “I’m going to say goodnight.” He pulled her to her feet and toward the door. “Do you want to join me and Perry tomorrow for an outing at the zoo?”

“I would love to.” She held his face with both hands so she could kiss him soundly.

“Wow,” he said when she drew back. “Maybe you should tell me things about yourself more often.” He clasped his hands behind her back, holding her close. “Do you mind me asking what your daughter’s name was?”

“Her name was Grace.”

“Very pretty.” Just then her phone rang. He laughed softly before placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Tomorrow.”

She nodded and watched him leave before grabbing her phone. “Hello?”

Clark shoved his hands into his pockets as he headed down the hall. He and Mayson had just turned a corner in their relationship. If he wasn’t careful, they would be pretty serious before long.

Would that be so bad? She was a great person. Beautiful, intelligent, sexy, and best of all, she was attracted to him. There could probably be worse things than taking their relationship to the next level.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, Superman was beckoned. He sighed and took the stairs down and out the back. He had a full day planned tomorrow. Maybe the rescue wouldn’t take too long.

***

Lois had nearly died the day her babies turned a year old. She’d received a card in the mail and for the first time, she’d opened it. Inside was a picture of a happy little girl. Her precious Perry was happy enough to smile. It was more than she could ask for. The older Perry had made sure she was in very good hands.

After crying herself to sleep, something changed for her. It seemed her mind cleared and acceptance took the place of the desolation. Resigning herself to her life now, Lois slowly became cold and bitter. Her raw edge was back, even rougher than it had ever been. She’d bite heads off for telling her good morning. And she managed to get herself into several fights. Solitary confinement wasn’t the most pleasant experience, though every time she came away just a bit stronger than before. Deciding it was time to do more than just sit and stare, she began to go to the library. The online version of the Planet became her lifeline to the world.

And she found herself drawn to the articles Clark Kent wrote. He was good, she admitted after reading his tenth straight front page story. He wrote emotion into his work that she’d never been able to capture. Her writing had a bite to it, whereas Clark’s had feeling.

Later, when the professional admiration wore off, Lois found herself strangely attracted to Clark on a more personal level- something completely irrational considering where she was. The day she’d met him she’d been surprised by how she’d been affected by him. His dark eyes seemed to look straight into her very soul. And as much as she argued with herself that she should think about other things, time after time, her mind came right back to that man. It was crazy. She was in prison- would be for a decade of his life, and he was seeing her one time attorney, Mayson Drake- if the picture she’d seen on the society page was anything to go by. The couple had been captured dancing at some big party given by the mayor. After staring at the image of Clark and his blonde bombshell for nearly an hour, she decided that it was best to push insane notions from her head once and for all. It just wasn’t so easy to do.

With thoughts of Clark came thoughts of her son. She’d agreed to give him custody. Why? She’d signed her son over to a perfect stranger. Why had he agreed to be guardian to a stranger’s baby? Was he naturally trusting? Did he do things like that all the time? Why had Perry chosen that particular man? All questions she could have answered if she’d agree to have visitors. But she wouldn’t do that. She didn’t want to see reminders of what she’d so carelessly tossed away. She also felt the people who had once been part of her life should just move on.

Reading the Planet was also where she’d learned of an incredible phenomenon known as Superman. As the reclusive wife of Lex Luthor, she’d been denied access to television or live radio or any other form of news. So finding out about something so out-of-the-world as Superman was quite a shock. A man could actually fly. The media, and the man himself, claimed that he was from another planet called Krypton. Lois had laughed so hard when she’d read that she was almost sent to the infirmary for medication because the guards thought she was losing her mind. Then she read more articles, saw pictures taken by Jimmy. She’d seen pictures of Perry shaking hands with Superman. There seemed to be tons of evidence that this was no joke. This man, this person actually existed. But was he really from another planet? Clark had written the official announcement to the world. Did he believe this was real? Did he believe Superman was from this place called Krypton?

When Lois wasn’t reading or doing her assigned work detail, she spent countless hours working out. She’d decided that when she left this place, she’d leave stronger in mind and body.

But what was she going to do when she left? She’d given up her career and was unsure if she even wanted to go back to reporting. Calling herself good in her chosen profession was a joke. A decent reporter would have never been so easily taken in by another person. It didn’t matter that it was a man who’d fooled her. She was embarrassed by the way Lex was able to take advantage of her. And she couldn’t even claim she’d been blinded by love because she hadn’t loved Lex at all. In the beginning, there had been a bit of attraction, but never anything stronger. It had been exciting to think she’d turned the head of one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Now it was plain the only reason Lex had entertained her at all was because he needed somebody for whatever insane reason he’d used her for.

What exactly had he used her for? By his rantings she was sure one reason was to have his son. She’d overheard Lex and Nigel say something about inheriting an empire. What did that mean? Lex had already inherited his empire. His father was dead and had left everything to his only son. She’d also heard things about research and some doctor that Lex mentioned often. She’d seen the doctor and now that her mind was clear, she could remember him. She could also remember a lot of things, even if she wished she couldn’t.

After deciding it was time to do something other than staring into space and feeling sorry for herself, time began to pass more quickly. Six months, six long months had come and gone as she remained a guest of the state. Six months of her children’s lives that she’d lost. Six months- a mere few minutes in the unimaginable stretch that would rob her of her very essence.

***

The door slammed back against the wall of the darkened apartment as the couple stumbled inside. Clark lifted Mayson up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he backed her against the wall. His lips left hers and seared a trail down her neck. He drew back to look at her, smiling as he did, then slipped his hands under her shirt to push it over her head. He couldn’t help but appreciate her full bosom. She was larger than Lana and his fingers ached to touch her. Grasping her under the tops of her hips, he turned to carry her toward the bedroom.

“Lock… the door,” she gasped between kisses to his neck and face.

He gazed around her head so he could click the lock before striding through the room. Mayson reached out blindly to open the bedroom door. Clark sat down on the bed holding her on his lap. His hands searched out new places while his lips plundered hers. He paused only long enough to look at her again before finally surrendering to the unbelievable sexual tension that had been brewing between them for the last few months.

***

Mayson returned from the bathroom to find Clark sitting up against the headboard laughing softly as he looked at the boxes in his hands. “What’s so funny?” she asked as she climbed back on the bed and snuggled up beside him.

“Six different brands?” he asked her with a quirked brow.

“Well, I wasn’t sure which one you’d like.”

He chuckled as he tossed the items back on the nightstand. “I like the one that gets us down to business the quickest.”

“Funny.” She stretched slowly, relieving the tension in her muscles.

“At least I have proof now that you’re obsessive.” He reached out to smooth his hand over the leg she’d thrown over his.

“I’m not obsessive. I just like being prepared.”

“Prepared is buying the box of condoms with twelve in it. Six different boxes of twelve is obsessive.”

“So sue me.” She leaned over to kiss him beneath his ear.

“Nah. I might want to try one of the other brands.” He grunted when she nudged him in the side, laughing softly at her expression. Just then the television clicked on. “That could get annoying.”

“Sorry.” She reached over him to grab the remote to turn off the set, but stopped when she noticed the news was covering something about Superman.

‘Superman was in Suicide Slum today and for a change, he wasn’t responding to a shooting or some other gang related incident,’ the newscaster was saying. ‘He was in attendance at the brand new City of Joy- Metropolis’ answer to the growing orphan population.’

As they watched, Superman cut the wide ribbon stretched across the gates. An entire block in a less then reputable section of the city had been transformed into a children’s village.

“Can you believe that guy?”

“What?” Clark asked when Mayson spoke.

“He’s the biggest criminal in the world, yet he expects the law to just treat him like he’s some kind of savior.”

Clark’s brows rose nearly to his hair in surprise. She’d never said anything against Superman before. Well, she’d never said anything at all about him. But he was stunned she felt this way. “Ah, you don’t like Superman?”

“Like him? I’d love to lock him up.” Mayson pressed the button and the television screen went black.

Wow! She didn’t just dislike Superman, she wanted him out of the skies. He shifted sideways so that he could look at her. And for the first time, he really looked. What else didn’t he know about Mayson? He found out just a few months ago that she’d had a baby. He hadn’t asked her anything else about her baby, and Mayson hadn’t told him anything. Had she been married or just involved with someone? She wanted to arrest Superman, thought he was…

“Why do you think he’s a criminal?”

“Clark, he’s a vigilante!” She stared at him in disbelief. How could Clark not see Superman for what he really was?

“A vigilante?” He shifted again. “Because he helps stop crimes?”

Mayson shifted and sat up. “Because he takes it upon himself to interfere in police matters.”

“Interfere? So the three hundred and sixty-two drug dealers, rapists, murderers, thieves, child molesters, and various other criminals he’s helped get off the streets should have been left to do as they pleased?”

It was Mayson’s turn to quirk a brow at him. “Are you some kind of Superman groupie?”

“I write a lot of articles,” he was quick to tell her. He had to calm down or he’d tell her a bit more than he wanted to.

“Sounds like you keep track of what he does.” She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

“I don’t keep track.” Clark pushed a hand through his hair, trying to relax a bit. He glanced at the nightstand, wandering if he should put his glasses back on. If she felt this way…

“I just think he should leave the law enforcement to the professionals.” She was picking her clothes up, carefully folding the garments. When she’d gotten up earlier, she’d put on Clark’s button up shirt.

“Every official I’ve ever talked to tells me they appreciate his help.”

“I would, too, if someone was doing my job for me.” When she’d run out of things to do, she faced him, leaning against the dresser. “He’s a loose cannon.”

“Loose cannon?”

“Yeah. One day he’ll go too far.”

Clark wanted to squirm under her scrutiny. He really didn’t like the distaste he saw in her expression. “What do you think he’ll do? Decide to be judge and jury and hurt someone?”

“Well, if he’s inclined enough to help the way he does, he obviously has feelings. It’s my experience that men tend to be pushed too far when they’re angered.”

“And you think he’ll get mad enough one day to… snap someone in half?” Clark let out a snort of laughter. That was absurd. He’d been angry before, but he’d never thought of hurting anyone.

“Technically, he could.” She ventured back over and sat down on the edge of the bed closest to him.

“Don’t you think if he wanted to hurt someone he’d have done it already? He saves people’s lives, Mayson.” He shifted and dropped his feet to the floor.

“What happens when he responds one day to an accident and causes more damage than he offers help?”

Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that a thousand times? he asked her mentally. That was why he’d taken dozens of classes. He was a certified paramedic. He’d been trained to handle explosives, earned his certificate to handle firearms, and even logged over twenty hours training with the fire department. The guys of the Sixth Street Station had taken dozens of pictures- it wasn’t every day one trained Superman how to fight fires. He was registered to handle bio hazardous material, knew how to evacuate an entire city, and he’d even taken the training for hostage negotiations. And at that moment, he’d love nothing more than to tell Mayson that he had also graduated from the police academy. The city of Metropolis didn’t think he was a liability- they’d given him a badge.

All of that were things he’d thought over very carefully before he’d decided to make his public debut. And within the first month, he had the permission of nearly every agency in the country to do what he did. But Clark couldn’t very well tell Mayson that, not as Clark. If he went to her later as Superman, she’d know who he was. At the moment, he didn’t think he wanted her to know. He’d entertained the idea of telling her several times before they’d become intimate. However, he was male. And being male, he had needs and desires. Those had swelled to uncontrollable lately. When she’d blatantly told him after dinner that she wanted him for desert, he’d been unable to find a single reason why she shouldn’t have him.

She sighed and smoothed a hand across his back. “I guess I’m still learning things about you.”

“What?” Her abrupt change of subject threw him.

“I didn’t know you liked Superman so much.”

Yeah, well, you don’t know I *am* Superman, he thought to himself. I kinda’ need to like myself. But he chose instead, “He’s a remarkable individual.”

“I admit, the things he can do are incredible. I just don’t like his reasons.”

“Wanting to help is a bad thing?”

“No, not bad.”

“Look deeper, Mayson.” He couldn’t stop himself. If she wanted to pass judgment on somebody, she needed to at least know them a bit better. “You call him a criminal. I happen to know he’s done nothing illegal.”

“Writing a few articles about him…”

“Articles that I had to do a ton of research to be able to write.”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry I brought it up.”

Clark had to remind himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. “No,” he managed. “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about it.”

She smiled at him. “Why don’t we talk about something else?” Kissing his neck, she said with a smile, “Or not?”

He forced a smile, easing into her touch. How could he possibly do anything more with her now after the things she’d revealed tonight? He almost shouted when his phone rang. “Sorry,” he told her as he reached for his jeans. He dug the item out of his pocket and flipped it open gratefully. “Hello?”

***

Typing the same word for the fifth time, he finally pushed away from his desk in frustration. Clark had been trying to concentrate on the article he was writing, but it was proving an almost impossible task. His mind kept going back to his conversation with Mayson two nights ago. They’d eaten dinner at a cafe not far from her place, and had planned to see what performance was the hottest theatrical release that week. However, Mayson had wanted to do something a bit different. Hell, Clark had been wanting to do the same thing for weeks. The only reason they hadn’t engaged in a sexual relationship before now was because he was struggling with telling her about his secret identity. In light of what he’d learned, he was glad he hadn’t told her.

He and Mayson had been on countless dates, spent hours talking. Yet she’d never mentioned her distaste for the Man of Steel until the other night. Granted, he hadn’t asked her about it either. If he was honest, he’d been a little afraid to. He was scared she’d feel exactly the way she did. She hadn’t said she disliked Superman because he was alien, which would have really stung his ego. But thinking of him as a criminal was just as bad, if not worse. How did he handle this? Clark really liked Mayson. She was everything he could ask for, except for that one thing. How did he continue to date her knowing that she didn’t like a huge part of who he was? Of course, she didn’t know *he* was the criminal she wanted off the streets either. Would it make a difference if she knew? Would she… use that information against him? Surely not.

He sighed in frustration because he just didn’t know. If he told her and she turned on him, that would be a bad thing. If he didn’t tell her and kept seeing her, that would be just as bad. Every time he was with her, he’d feel conflicted. Part of him was ashamed of himself for having already slept with her without telling her who he really was. Another part of him felt angry. Well, angry was not exactly the right emotion. He was torn. He liked her and while he didn’t exactly regret what they’d done, he wasn’t sure he could do it again. Clark had learned a long time ago that in order to be happy, he had to be true to himself. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with his abilities. He was at a place he needed to be now and if he continued to see Mayson with this standing between them, he was afraid it would cause himself a bit of self-doubt. He couldn’t go there again.

Before he could come to any solid decisions, a call for help sent him toward the stairwell. He’d just have to deal with this later.

***

The man’s hands shook as he tried to mix the ingredients in the beaker. He felt so old. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

“Do you have that formula ready?”

He looked up at the other doctor in the room with him. “Just give me a minute.”

“Dammit, Sam, we should have been done with this by now.”

“Don’t you think I know that, Paul?” He pushed the glass container away from him, effectively sloshing the contents all over the counter. He had to get out of this. He had to tell someone.

Tell them what, Sam? he asked himself. Tell them you made a deal with the devil and now everyone you’ve ever cared about has suffered because of it?

Paul Lang stepped over to Sam’s side. “You don’t understand the seriousness of this situation, old man.”

“I understand all too well,” Sam thundered back, facing off with the other man. Paul was an imbecile. He shouldn’t have a license to practice medicine. Hell, he probably didn’t. Why Lex Luthor had sought him out to do research for him was beyond him.

He didn’t understand, Paul thought. He couldn’t. If this drug was not ready when Bill got there… He stared off with Sam for a minute before he turned and stomped back to his workstation. He’d gone too far this time. He’d made one too many deals. Keeping up with all of the duplicity was getting confusing. One slipup and he was dead. But if he could just manage a few more days, he’d be on a plane to a new life where no one knew who he was. And hopefully where his past would never be able to find him again. Thank God Luthor was dead. If that man had learned what he’d done, Nigel would have cut him into a million pieces and fed him to the fishes. Of course, if Bill found out what he was doing…

Unable to stand another second, Sam strode across the room and into the small office. He slammed the door and rooted around in the desk for the bottle of liquor he kept there. He’d drown his troubled thoughts so he’d at least have a few blissful moments of respite. As he dropped down in the chair, images of happier times floated through his mind. “What have I done?” he asked himself again- the same question he asked hundreds of times a day.

***

In an office building in downtown Sydney, a team of lawyers greeted a man and his assistant as they entered the room.

“It’s good to see you again, Alexander,” one of the lawyers said to the balding man across from him.

“I can’t say the same of you,” he replied in a clipped tone that left little doubt he wanted to get right down to business.

“Yes, well…” The man sat down and pulled out a file. “We are ready to proceed if you can produce the proof your father required.”

Alexander glanced at his assistant, who opened a briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “Marriage license, birth certificate, everything the old bastard wanted me to do.”

“We were hoping to meet your wife,” one of the others spoke up.

“She is a bit under the weather. Having our son took a lot out of her.”

“He’s over a year old.”

“And she was extremely fragile.” He pulled out another piece of paper. “I assure you she’s being cared for.”

The paper from Mrs. Luckaby’s doctor was read over carefully. “I do hope she is well soon.”

“Yes. Are we ready to sign all of the papers?”

“More than ready.” A few very important papers were spread across the table and Alexander quickly penned his name to them all. “You will have the money in your account by day’s end.”

“Very good.” Alexander stood as his assistant gathered up all the documents they needed and stuffed them into the briefcase.

“We are sorry about all of this,” the man who was clearly the one in charge said.

“I’m sure.” Alexander strode out of the room without another word. He and the older man with him stepped into the elevator and he released the breath he was holding. “I hope that old man turns over in his grave. All of his careful instructions, his idiotic demands, and for what? His *son* gets his damn money with a dead wife and a cloned son. Doesn’t it make you all tingly inside?”

“It would warm my heart,” the other man said in a deadpan tone. “If I had one.”

Alexander grinned at him. “Yes, it probably would.” They stepped out of the elevator and hurried to the waiting limo. “How is my first born?” he asked after pouring himself a glass of champagne.

“Blissfully unaware.”

After drinking nearly half of the bubbly, he held the glass out to inspect it. “Wouldn’t *Daddy* have a stroke if he knew that wimp didn’t carry Luckaby blood either?”

“Good thing he’s dead, or he would die if he knew his money had just been passed to a Luthor.”

“Mother was a wild one, wasn’t she?” He grinned evilly as he polished off the rest of his drink. “Ah, Nigel, I do regret not being able to play with Superman a bit before all of this unfortunate mess. He would have been wonderful entertainment.”

“I do like the fact that he’s not crimping our style though.”

“Oh, a definite plus of being dead.” Alexander, or Lex, pulled out a cigar and lit it with a deep drag. “So, tell me, have you found the good doctor yet?”

“No. And Dr. Lane has disappeared as well.”

“No doubt Church had something to do with that.”

“I’m sure.”

“And Delconto? Did he buy my little swan dive into the streets of Metropolis?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.”

Lex grinned even wider. He loved being able to fool people so easily. Granted, by killing himself off he’d cut one arm of his power and control. He’d planned to gain more power and wealth than any man alive by selling his research to the government. His son was thriving, growing as normally as any other child. Governments, agencies, and nearly anyone in between would pay any price for what he’d achieved. To be able to create people at will… Add the mind control drugs and the possibilities were limitless.

No matter. Lex, or Alexander Luckaby, had fulfilled his dead father’s demands by having another son. The old man had left explicit instructions in his will that Alexander leave another heir before the rest of the Luckaby empire would be his. Not only that, he’d had to do so within a marriage. Hence, his marriage to Lois Lane. Lex had chosen her specifically, for not only his need for a wife, but his need to control her. That nosy bitch had involved herself in one too many of his affairs. It hadn’t set well with him, so he made an example out of her, although she had no idea.

“How is my dear wife?” Framing her for his murder had been a stroke of genius, not to mention the satisfaction he got from knowing her imprisonment caused the mighty Perry White the worst heartache imaginable.

“Wasting away in an institution full of unfortunate souls like herself.”

“And that insufferable brat?”

“Enjoying island life with his aunt. Should we continue to look for the baby girl?”

“Good riddance. If White wants her, or whoever he pawned her off on, then let them have her.”

“Tell me, sir, if you can’t follow through with your original plan, why do you keep the boy?”

“Just because Lex Luthor can’t sell to the highest bidder, doesn’t mean Alexander Luckaby can’t. And knowing his mother’s frantic is a bonus.”

“I’m sure, but won’t there be too many whistles going off if Alexander suddenly reappears?”

“Patience, my dear Nigel. Patience. That’s why I’m keeping that brat. I’ll enjoy a quiet existence somewhere… Asian, maybe. Then when that kid’s made it to his fifth birthday, Bill Church will fall all over himself to get the files on his creation.”

Nigel eyed him carefully before speaking again. “And by the time he figures out he’s been duped…”

“I’ll be off to some other luxury hideaway to bask in the irony of it all.” He drew from his cigar, blowing out with a smile. “But before I can do any of that, I need that damn doctor. I want to be sure we have all of his research.”

“And his total loyalty.”

“Luthor style.” They laughed at their sick joke as the limo continued to carry them through the streets of Sydney.

***

Mayson watched as Clark picked over his food. They’d had dinner at his place tonight because Clark had said he wasn’t in the mood to go out. They’d ordered take-out and he’d opened a bottle of wine. Talk had revolved around his latest case for the first part of the meal, but now they were hardly speaking. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a week. Every time she called, he made an excuse not to see her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to…

“Clark, do you regret starting an intimate relationship?”

His head snapped up and he looked at her. How did he answer that? “No,” he finally said. He didn’t regret it. He’d wanted to make love with Mayson and it had been a wonderful experience. Not exactly what he needed it to be, but it had still been very nice. He lowered his eyes back to his plate.

“Is something wrong with Perry?”

“No.” This time he smiled when he looked at her. He loved that little girl. Talking about her always brought a smile to his face. “Perry’s great. In fact, I think I’m going to bring her out next week. I miss her.”

“You’re going to keep her all week?”

“Yeah.” He stood and picked up his plate to carry it to the sink. There was no sense to keep playing with his food. He wasn’t hungry.

“Clark, we have reservations at LaBlanc next week.” They’d made plans weeks ago for him to join Mayson at some convention in France. It had something to do with one of her clients and she’d attended the last three years. She’d asked him along hoping to finally consummate their relationship while they were alone.

He sighed and turned to look at her with regretful eyes. “I’m sorry, Mayson, I forgot about that. I’ve already told Mom I could take Perry. She and Dad are planning to take a vacation- sort of a second honeymoon.”

Mayson just stared at him in disbelief. They’d talked about this trip several times. He’d been looking forward to going, or so she thought. Surely, he would have known about a trip his parents were planning. He talked to them every single day. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this to me.” She stood and jerked the plate off the table before stomping over and nearly slamming it into the sink.

“Mayson,” he pleaded. He hated to see her upset. But he didn’t want to go to France with her either. He wasn’t even sure why he’d agreed in the first place. She’d just been so convincing. And he’d been… struggling with his attraction and desire. Now, though… He sighed again. He’d done that a lot tonight.

She was halfway across the room before she whirled back around to face him, fire in her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on with you? You’ve avoided my calls, and when we have talked, you’ve barely said two words. When I saw you at the Planet earlier in the week, you’d looked as if you hadn’t wanted to see me at all. And don’t get me started on the reception I got earlier.” She’d leaned in to kiss him and he’d turned his head at the last second so she’d kiss his cheek.

Clark looked away from her. He’d thought about her attitude toward Superman nearly nonstop for the last week. He’d finally decided that he really liked Mayson. She was a great person and fun to be around. He wasn’t ready to give that up. But when he’d seen her, something ugly within him reared its’ head. How could he keep seeing her if she didn’t like him?

Then again, how could he blame her if he wasn’t completely honest with her either? No matter what decision he made, it probably wouldn’t be the right one.

“I… have been having trouble at work,” he lied. He just couldn’t do this. Not tonight. He was tired of being alone and seeing Mayson was what he wanted.

For now.

“That’s no excuse for how you’ve been treating me,” she told him.

“No, it’s not.” He forced himself to approach. He reached out to rub her upper arms briskly. “I’m sorry.” This was more difficult than he thought.

“Yeah, well…” And before she could say anything else, he kissed her.

This will help, he thought as he worked his mouth over hers. She was still the same woman he’d come to like. She couldn’t help how she felt. And if it wasn’t for his incessant need to be two people, she wouldn’t feel that way to start with. For the first time in a long time, he cursed his other side. When Mayson groaned, he began to chant: shut up and enjoy yourself.

She drew away from him. “Do you want to…?” He nodded. “I have protection in my bag.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Mayson was obsessive about almost everything, including their need for protection. “Did you bring all six boxes?”

“No,” she replied with a chuckle. “Just a big one.”

Clark smoothed his hands up her back, his right hand gripping her neck so he could pull her back in for another kiss. It’s not right, his conscience yelled at him. This doesn’t feel right. But he kicked those thoughts to the back of his mind as he walked Mayson backward toward his bedroom. When Mayson’s hands began to roam, rational thought fled in a rush. He was ready, willing, and able and he was going to take advantage of the fact that she was, too. They’d talk about everything else later. Much later.

Mayson was the one who tore her mouth from his a moment later. “Clark, don’t you hear your phone ringing?”

“Huh?” He’d almost made it to the point of no return and it took him a second to clear the cobwebs from his head.

“Phone.”

Just then his machine kicked on. “Yo, CK, get your butt to the Planet. We think we’ve found Collin.”

Clark’s eyes cleared in a split second as he jerked up the receiver on the nightstand. “What?” he wanted to know, skipping all pretense with the young man on the other end.

“Yeah, man, this investigator waltzed in a little while ago and tells Perry he thinks he knows where Collin is. Has some pictures he took yesterday.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” More like two, but he couldn’t tell him that. And he couldn’t get there that quick without causing suspicion. He dropped the phone back down and looked up at Mayson with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. I have to go.”

“I’ll come with you.” He nodded and they hurried into the other room. But before they made it to the door, her phone rang. “Sorry,” she said as she answered. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’ll be there.”

“Your turn to be sorry,” he deduced as he slipped his jacket on.

“Call me later?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, then kissed her quickly before they left. She went toward her office and he headed into the alley to fly to the Planet.

***

Clark ran through the door of the stairwell and straight to Perry’s office. It was after nine and the newsroom was nearly empty. Perry, Jack, Jimmy and a man Clark had never seen were all in the editor’s office.

“Clark, this is Dan Scardino. He’s a private investigator. The Center contacted him to help with the search and I believe he’s found our boy.” Perry held out the photos he’d been looking at.

The image showed a little boy on a beach. The child looked a lot like Perry. “Are you sure this is him?” Clark wanted to know as he looked up at Dan.

“Pretty sure.”

“Where is this?”

“An island town in Spain. I followed a hunch and well…” The man grinned, a crooked expression Clark was sure he was proud of. More precisely, he was proud of himself for doing something no one else had been able to do.

“What made you look there?”

“Get this, CK, he’s at his grandfather’s place,” Jack spoke up.

“What?” His eyes snapped over to the other man.

“The house on that island belongs to Sam Lane,” Jimmy explained. “He bought it because of the frequent trips to see family.” When Clark’s brows rose, he went on. “Ellen Lane was actually born Ella Delconto.”

“Whoa!” Clark held up his hand to stop him. “She was born who?”

“Delconto, as in Juan Delconto, as in…”

“The Delconto Organization?” he asked, stunned beyond belief.

“That’s the one,” Jack said with a wide grin. He sat on the edge of Perry’s desk and crossed his arms. He’d been the one to find out that little gem earlier today, by accident. “I was cleaning out some old files on Perry’s computer, only it wasn’t Perry’s computer.” He pointed to the machine he was talking about. There was another computer on the small table behind Perry’s desk. “It was Lois’ computer. Perry wanted some information she had on there about a stock trading scam she was covering right before she quit. Anyway…” He quickly moved on because he knew talking about Lois was a very sore spot with the boss. “I came across some personal files. One was some information about her mother- mostly estate type stuff. That’s when I found that Ellen’s estate had never been settled because Ellen Dyson had never filed her legal name change in New Troy.”

“Damn,” Clark mumbled as he dropped to the chair behind him. What did it all mean?

“So, do you want me to fly back over and get him?” Dan wanted to know. “With an international custody order I can bring him back as a representative for the Center.”

“I think I’ll go out myself,” Clark said as he stood back up.

“I’ll book you a flight,” Perry said as he picked up the phone.

“Don’t bother. I have a friend that owes me a favor,” Clark said as he started toward the door. “Told me if I ever needed anything… I’ll get him to fly me over.”

“Don’t forget to take your papers. And when you get there, I’ll have contacted the Center’s rep.” By Center, they meant the Center for Missing Children. Over six months later, they were still pouring resources into their search for Collin Lane.

“Got it.” He stopped and stepped back over to Dan. “Thank you,” he told him and extended his hand.

“You’re welcome,” Dan answered and shook the offered limb.

“Good luck, CK,” called Jimmy.

Clark had to wave because he was halfway to the stairwell. Suddenly he couldn’t get out of the building fast enough. He spun into his suit on the way up and zipped by his place to leave the photos he was still holding. He’d imprinted the image of the little boy in his mind and wouldn’t quickly forget what he looked like. In less time than it would have taken to book a flight, Clark was hovering over the house in the background of the photographs. The address had been written on back of one, so he was able to find it easily enough. A quick scan allowed him to see that there was no one there. It was quite early in the morning in Spain, so a baby should be sleeping. Only the bed in the small bungalow was empty.

He landed just outside the back entrance, the one near the ocean, and checked the door. It was unlocked. He went in to find that whoever had been there had left in a hurry. A hurried effort to pack had been made, but many things had been left. The small clothes on the floor and bed were proof that a baby had indeed been in this house. If the color was any judge, the child was also a boy. He was so frustrated he wanted to yell. They’d been so close.

He searched through the house for anything that might tell him where they’d taken the boy. When he found nothing, he picked up a small football. Tiny teeth prints marred the end, testament that Collin was teething. Perry was, too. She was cutting hers on her doll’s hand. He couldn’t help but smile.

Then he felt like crying. It was as if his baby boy was missing. He couldn’t stop the snort of incredulity. Collin *was* his son- legally anyway. Would they ever find him?

A final glance, then he tucked the football into a bag he found in the bottom of the closet. He picked up all the baby items he could find- not sure why he felt he should take them- before he left. He’d return tomorrow morning as Clark so he and the rep could call the local police. There would be an official investigation.

And there was going to be an unofficial investigation, too. He didn’t care what Perry said or what Lois wanted. He was going to resurrect his research.

He was also going to find that little boy.

***

Perry held his head in his hands, something he did a lot of these days. Clark had just returned from his trip to Spain. Collin had been gone by the time he got there. That meant someone, somewhere had warned them. But who? They wouldn’t find out unless he reopened the investigation, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“How will she know we’re back at it?” Jack wanted to know.

“I’ll know,” Perry said as he looked up at the young men across from him.

“Perry, surely you see the importance of us finding out…”

“I know, Jimmy! How well I know.” Perry stood and walked around behind his chair, more frustrated than he’d ever been in his life. “Lois is terrified they’ll kill Collin.” She’d finally agreed to talk to him on the phone today, and she’d pleaded with him to just stay out of it. She’d even asked him to stop looking for Collin. That was where he drew the line. He told her that the only way he’d back down was over his dead body. She’d held the phone in silence for a while, then told him as sternly as she could to drop it. Her attitude had actually made him mad. Didn’t that girl know he was only trying to help her? Didn’t she know that if they could find out what was going on, they could stop whoever was still controlling Lex’s interests?

“How will they know we’ve done a little research on the computers?” Clark wanted to know.

“How did they know Dan was in Spain and that they needed to get him out of there?”

Clark sighed and looked away. Perry had a point.

“All the more reason to look into this dang thing,” Jack spoke up. “Somebody’s jumping the fence and we need to know who.”

Perry turned and looked out of the window, watching the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city. At one time he’d loved this place. Lately, he was contemplating retiring to his lake home. He was too damn old for this kind of stress. “Just let it go,” he said, a note of finality in his voice.

Jack threw up his hands in disbelief just before he left the room. He was disgusted with his boss. There was something to be found, if they could just look.

Jimmy shook his head sadly and followed the other man out.

“Maybe I could try to talk to her,” Clark suggested.

“Give her time, Clark. She talked to me today when she’s adamantly refused until now. Something’s changing. She’ll break before long.”

“Do we have time to wait?” When Perry didn’t answer, Clark sighed and left him standing at the window. Would Perry ever recover from any of this?

***

“Where the hell is he?” Lex demanded of Nigel.

“I have no idea, sir. Asabi has disappeared and he won’t answer the private lines.”

“So help me I’ll separate his body and spirit myself!” He was livid. Nigel had told him just minutes ago that Collin, Lucy, and Asabi had disappeared from Spain. “Have you looked everywhere?”

“Everywhere. I have even had a fellow look in the lion’s den.”

Lex swiped his hand across the desk in front him, sending everything on it flying. “Find that kid!”

“We will, sir.”

“You better.” Nigel turned to leave. “And, Nigel…” When he turned, Lex pointed at him. “When you do, kill the girl and take her sister a picture.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled before closing the door behind him.

Lex kicked the phone lying on the floor across the room. He was losing control. And he hated to lose control.

He also hated being Alexander Luckaby. He’d hated Frank and had hated being his son. The day his mother told him his biological father was really Lionel Luthor was the day he was set free. And as soon as his mother was buried, he’d been only too happy to make sure the arrogant son of bitch who’d made his life a living hell paid for all of his sins. If it hadn’t been for the fifty-three billion reasons now tucked away in various accounts around the world, he would have never bowed to that man’s vanity-driven ego.

***

Clark rolled over and nearly fell onto the floor. He’d laid down on the sofa at Mayson’s place to wait on her to finish a conference call involved with work and had fallen asleep. A glance at his watch told him she’d been on the call for nearly an hour. He sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair several times trying to rid himself of the sleepy haze that surrounded him. In the other room, Mayson seemed to be in a heated debate. It might very well be a while before she was done. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise, he thought as he rose to head into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He had to shake his head as he opened the cabinet. Every glass was perfectly situated on the shelf. Mayson wasn’t just obsessive- she was obsessive compulsive.

Taking his water, he ventured into her living room, glancing at the photograph she kept on the table between her chairs. Baby Grace had been a beautiful child. And the lone image was the only visible proof Mayson had ever been someone’s mother. She’d only recently put it out- told him that seeing Perry and opening up to him had given her the strength to do so.

The view from her window was spectacular. You could see all the way to the bay. They’d had dinner at Mulligan’s earlier. Mayson had told him she was sorry he hadn’t found Collin, yet something about her posture said otherwise. Then they’d argued about the trip to France again. Perry was coming in and he was going to spend the week with her. Mayson was less than thrilled that she’d have to make the trip overseas alone, but she finally let it drop. He’d walked her home and had intended to kiss her goodnight and leave, but he felt unusually lonely tonight. Her lips had practically begged him to kiss her. One had led to two, then a stray hand cranked up the excitement, and before he could stop himself, he was laying her across her bed. Now he was glad she’d received the call that had interrupted them. He’d been strangely detached, as if he was on the outside looking in, even in the little they’d done. He’d been relieved when she apologized and went to answer the phone.

As he took another drink from his glass, he realized he was preparing himself to say goodbye to Mayson. She was a great person, and he cared for her very much. She could be a good friend, but that was all. She wasn’t who he wanted to make a future with, and he just couldn’t keep acting like she was. He realized earlier, even though he’d known before then, that her aversion to Superman was just a bit much for him to deal with comfortably in the context of a serious relationship. If she felt like that, there was no way he could tell her he was the Man of Steel. And if they were going to continue to see one another, he had to tell her.

And he couldn’t… wouldn’t do that. Not now.

Turning back to take his glass to the kitchen, his eye caught the shimmer of something sticking out of Mayson’s bag where she’d dropped it on the coffee table. A closer look told him it was a metallic envelope. He was going to keep walking, but what was written on the card made him stop. ‘Baby Doll’. Knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself, he reached down and pulled the envelope from the bag. He set his glass down and against his better judgment, he took the card out.

“What the hell?” It was an anniversary card.

A what?! It was signed, ‘Still loving you, Dan’.

“Do you always make it a habit to read other people’s private things?”

Clark looked up at Mayson, a thousand questions running through his mind at once. “Do you make it habit of forgetting to tell your boyfriend about your husband?”

She stomped over and snatched the card from his hand. “We’re separated.”

“So you *are* still married?”

“Legally, yes.” She stuffed the card back into her bag.

“Damn!” Clark snatched up the glass on the table, not caring that the water flew out over his hand and arm, and went to the kitchen to drop it in the sink.

“Clark, let me explain.”

“You just did,” he said as he turned to look for his jacket.

“We’ve been separated for years…”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re married and whether or not you respect the vows you took, I do.” He couldn’t believe he’d felt guilty for starting a relationship with her when he was being less than honest. She was doing the same thing!

“Don’t do this,” she pleaded as she followed him to the door.

“Do what? Get upset because you forgot to mention your husband?” He jerked on his jacket.

“Like you have room to talk.”

He stopped with his hand on the door, then turned to look at her. “What?”

“You forgot to mention that you moonlight in tights.” She crossed her arms over her chest, begging him to deny it.

For his part, Clark didn’t even blink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t. After I told you how I felt about Superman, I got to thinking about your reaction and what you said. After you ignored me, I knew there was more going on with you. I did a little research of my own.”

“And you’ve found nothing that suggests I am who you say I am.”

“You’re right. You have covered your tracks well. But, Clark, I’m one of the best lawyers in the world because I’m not blind. A background check revealed way too many inconsistencies.”

“You’ve done a background check on me?” He couldn’t believe her. She was beyond obsessive. Mayson glanced away from him. “Do you do that with everyone you date?”

“No!” But her expression said something different.

Clark put his hands on his hips and sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. What did he do now? Someone knew his secret, had checked him out. And now she was mad at him.

“Why don’t we call it even?” she asked as she stepped closer to him. “You’ve betrayed me as much as I’ve betrayed you.”

His brows rose nearly to his hair. “Are you serious?” When she just stared at him, he threw his hands up and paced around her.

“The fact that you’re here is proof enough to me that I’m right,” she said as she turned to watch him walk away from her.

He whirled back around to face her. “I’m here because if you decide to spout your theory aloud, my family will suffer for it.” He was still unable to admit to her that she was right, although she probably took that statement as admission on his part.

“Clark, I don’t give trust easily. And I would never betray it either. I… I love you. I’d never hurt you.”

He just stared at her for several moments before he leaned over to pull the envelope back out of her bag. “No, I guess you wouldn’t,” he told her sadly, then thrust the card into her hands before he left. He might have decided to end his relationship with Mayson tonight, but knowing she was married and didn’t tell him hurt like hell. If she could hide something like that, what else was she hiding?

Never mind he’d been hiding something from her.

But he wasn’t married. He wasn’t still in touch with a spouse. And… He stopped just before he stepped into the stairwell. Dan? As in…

He went back to her apartment, causing her to gasp when he stepped back in suddenly. “Dan? Scardino?”

“Yes,” she answered softly.

“The private investigator you contacted to come help Perry?” She glanced away from him. “Just how close are you and your husband?” Wow, he thought. Mayson was nothing he thought she was. If she still had some kind of relationship with Dan, why had she started anything with him? She’d actually told him she loved him.

“We’re friends, Clark. Close friends. We grew up together, were high school sweethearts, stayed together through college. Marriage seemed to be the most natural thing. We just couldn’t get past the emotional devastation of losing Grace.”

“And if you find a way through that?”

Mayson’s eyes finally met his. “I love Dan, but I’m in love with you. You’re the only man I’ve ever cared about besides him.”

Clark was the one to glance away this time. She looked so sincere. And after everything… “Mayson, I do care for you.”

“But you’re not in love with me?”

He sighed, refusing to look away. “No. I respect you and I was obviously very attracted.”

She looked down at the floor, nearly dying inside.

He took a step closer. “I’m sorry.”

When she looked up, she smiled. “I’m not. I’ve had a great time and I’m glad I know you. All of you.” Closing the distance between them, she reached up and cupped the side of his face. “I didn’t leave a trace when I was checking things out, and I made the background check look like it was part of your file for Collin.” Her thumb smoothed the soft skin under his eye. “I hope, in time, we can be friends.”

Clark smiled and reached out to squeeze her upper arm. “Me, too.” Leaning forward, he kissed her briefly. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.” She’d pulled her hand away and folded her arms again. “No one will know I know,” she said as he stepped into the doorway. When he faced her, she added, “But I think I like that you’re not admitting it.”

He didn’t say a word, just walked away. In a strange way, he kind of liked that she knew.

***

The man looked down into the wide eyes of the little boy before him. “Amazing,” he said. “Absolutely amazing.” He straightened up and smiled at the man beside the boy. “I have to hand it to ole Lex. He didn’t quit digging until he uncovered the largest treasures. Too bad his greed cost him his life.”

“His arrogance cost him his life,” the other man corrected him. “So, can I trust that you will honor your previous deal with my former employer?”

“If he continues to grow as healthy as he is now, I’ll even throw in a ten percent bonus.”

The tall, foreign-looking man smiled. “Very good.” He snapped his fingers and a woman stepped forward to pick up the boy. “I will be in touch every six months.”

“I’ll look forward to your next visit.” Bill Church waited until the man was gone with the boy before he called his son into the room. “How far along are the doctors in achieving the results we’re after?”

“Very close,” answered the younger Church. “However, we need a test subject.”

“Use Lane’s other daughter. I hear she likes juicing up anyway.”

“Oh, how ironic.” Bill Jr. laughed softly. Both Lane women in the same lifetime!

Bill Sr. sat down at his desk, totally agreeing with his son. He’d been glad when Lex married the oldest Lane girl so he could keep her out of everyone’s affairs. She had been a reporter and a good one, interfering more than once in his many endeavors. Lex had been all too happy to get her under control and Bill was more than willing to let him. And he could care less that she now sat in a cell for killing Luthor. Hell, if he’d been able to do it without getting caught, he would have killed the bastard years ago. Lois had done the world a favor- or at least his world.

Irony- what a wonderful thing! Lex had purposely chosen Lois for his test subject only to have her turn on him. Bill would use her sister, and neither woman would know that one of the men responsible for so much of their heartache was none other than their own dear daddy. Yes, irony was the spice of his life.

***

Nearly three months after his break-up with Mayson, he was convinced her knowing was a good thing. She’d often call him after a particularly difficult rescue and ask him how he was. ‘Just wanted to check on you,’ she’d say. She never asked him again if he really was Superman and she never referred to it either. Much like his mother, she always spoke of him as two separate people. Yet there was that little underlying current. He’d gained a true friend. It was nice having someone around that knew, even if he didn’t share that part of himself with her the way he did with Lana. He might never be in that place with Mayson, but he liked the place they’d chosen.

And Superman had kept him busy. It seemed everybody in the world needed him lately. Even when he wasn’t in the suit. One major story after another kept him at the Planet later nearly every night. What time he did have, he’d fly out to see Perry. Since keeping her the week his parents went on vacation, he’d ached to have her with him all the time. The little girl filled a void he hadn’t been aware was slowly eating up his spirit. He’d had to hire a sitter and Superman was grounded, but it had been the best week of his life. It was the most exhilarating as well. She’d grown so much since that first day. It was truly amazing watching all of the changes.

How was it a baby had the power to make you rethink your perspective on life? Sure, he’d often thought about marrying some day and starting a family. But he’d never actually thought he would. He was different than other men and he wasn’t even sure if he could have children. He and Lana had talked about it more than once, had even wanted to find out for sure if it was possible. Of course, their plans changed. After breaking up with Lana, he came to the conclusion that a wife and children might not be in his future. His time with Mayson was great, but he’d never felt it would be anything serious. He’d never dreamed becoming an accidental father might actually be the best thing that ever happened to him. Perry was a breath of air he had come to need just to function. He was seriously entertaining the idea of bringing her out to live with him on a full-time basis.

Of course, that idea didn’t come without risk. Whoever was still running LexCorp might still be looking for her, although he wasn’t sure why. While he wanted her with him, there was no way he’d place her in danger unnecessarily. Before he made a decision like that, he’d have to be sure it would be safe for her to be in the city.

That was why he was thinking of doing a little reading- reading that Perry wouldn’t approve of. He could always go over Perry’s head… straight to the source.

He’d thought a lot about Lois lately. Perry still tried to send her letters and get her to allow him to see her. Clark hated the days his editor went to the prison; he came to the newsroom angry and upset. More than once Clark thought the older man was going to cause himself to have a stroke. Alice had even spoken with him about Perry’s stress levels. Yet every week he made that trek to Glendale, just outside Metropolis. And every week he came back about to blow a gasket.

Jack and Jimmy had given up on Lois. They were angry and had a right to be. They’d done nothing but try to help her and she adamantly refused. They’d stopped writing her a long time ago. And it only took her refusing to see them three times before they stopped going to Glendale. Jimmy had said he felt like his best friend didn’t trust him anymore and it hurt.

Though Lois was a relative stranger, Clark was beginning to feel like he knew her. He’d heard so much about her through Jimmy and Perry- Jack didn’t know her that well either. He’d read everything she’d ever written, which told him a lot about the kind of person she’d been. Since the day Jack said he’d been stripping her computer and run across personal files, he’d found himself wanting to read some of those files himself.

Would she talk to him? She’d spoken with him once, allowed him to take custody of her son. He hadn’t been back to visit her with Mayson or with any of the others. He just didn’t feel like he had the place. Did having her daughter give him a place? She’d accepted that card on the twins’ birthday. Would she accept another one? Should he try?

He sighed heavily. He just didn’t know what to do anymore. Feeling like he could help and not be able to was driving him insane. There was no guarantee he could find out anything more than the little they’d discovered already. Yet he felt like he had to try or he’d go crazy.

Pushing to his feet, Clark went up to his loft in search of some paper and a pen. The open box of blank cards he kept for various occasions caught his eye. Maybe he should try using one of those. She’d accepted a card. He hated to use Perry that way, but if it would ultimately help her mother, the ends would certainly justify the means.

***

Lois had transformed into someone even she didn’t know. The pity had slowly been replaced with seething anger, followed by an overwhelming desire for revenge. Only the person she wanted to get revenge on was already dead. It just wasn’t fair. That maniacal bastard had stripped her of absolutely everything, including the right to have the final say. Yeah, she might one day step foot outside this prison and Lex would still be dead, but she’d never get back all he’d taken from her. Years of her life- gone. Years of her children’s lives- gone. Hell, they wouldn’t even know her when she got out. Somebody else was raising them. Those people were their family now. They’d be all those kids knew. What right would she have to take that away from them? Away from the family who was taking care of them?

Thank God Lucy was caring for Collin. At least he might have a few morals when he grew up. She snorted humorlessly at that. Morals, my ass, she thought as she entered her cell after her morning work detail. Lucy was the very definition of free spirit. A wild child from birth, Lucy was defiant right down to her core. She’d put her folks through hell. Became the girlfriend of a gang leader at fourteen, the hard drugs were only a year behind. In and out of rehab until she was eighteen, the younger Lane disappeared for nearly three years. When she resurfaced, she was as strung out as any junkie Lois had ever seen. And that junkie was caring for her son. Was that better than a nanny hired by LexCorp? Nigel had said Lucy was clean, but Lois had been around long enough to know that once a junkie, always a junkie.

She dropped heavily on her bunk, noticing that there was an envelope on the small table attached to the wall. Those ignorant guards just couldn’t take a hint. She’d told them more than once that she wanted all mail returned to sender. And if the mail didn’t have a return address, then just trash it.

Snatching the envelope off the table, she realized it was from the same person who’d sent the pictures of Perry that now hung on the wall. She glanced up at the happy baby in the image, then decided to take a quick peek.

‘Lois, I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything- I don’t even know you. I just felt it was time for… something. Time to *do* something. He’s gone, dead and buried. Won’t you let us help you?’

She looked at the new picture that was in the card. Perry- her precious Perry. Her hair was longer, curly. She had a mouth full of teeth and her little ears had been pierced. She was wearing a denim dress that looked a lot like overalls. She was adorable.

The card was signed ‘Clark’. As in Clark Kent? Did Clark Kent have her baby girl? Why? Why had Perry chosen a stranger to care for her girl?

What did it matter now? Someone had her and she didn’t. That was all she knew. Perry was being cared for and that was enough.

It had to be.

Lois wiped the tear that spilled from her eye- the first in months. She’d resolved long ago that crying wouldn’t help her now. Nothing would.

And nobody will, she thought as she ripped the card in half. She’d almost torn the picture as well, but she just couldn’t. That little girl hadn’t asked for any of this. Hell, she hadn’t asked to be born. With shaking hands, Lois searched out her tape and put her newest treasure on the wall. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have one of her boy to go with the others. Why couldn’t Clark find him? Then he’d have both her children.

When she turned back around, she pushed Clark Kent and thoughts of her daughter from her mind. She had to push them out or she’d go crazy. Thinking about things she couldn’t change was useless and it wasn’t about to get her out of here any time soon.

***

Lex, or Alexander Luckaby as he was known these days, was livid. Those idiots he’d hired couldn’t find their way out of a room with only one window, let alone a small boy. Nigel had searched everywhere for *Collin* without success. Just when they thought they were getting close, they’d hit another dead end. He needed to find that brat.

He needed to figure a way out of this mess he’d gotten himself in to. So far since his ‘death’ he’d stayed reclusive, hiding himself away from the many prying eyes of the world. But he was tired of that kind of life. He liked people and being with them. More precisely, he liked controlling them. He’d been unable to do much of that in his forced seclusion. What he needed was to get back to the world.

What he needed was to get that boy back. He was the key to a future where he was king of the world. If only he could track down Asabi. So help him that tall pile of bones was going to pay for stabbing him in the back.

***

How could you love someone so much and feel like you were beginning to hate the person that gave her to you? Clark asked himself that every time he looked at the little girl growing and thriving in his care. He hadn’t brought her out to live with him for fear of losing her to the same evils that had taken her mother away from her. He had stepped up his care though. He spent both of his days off in Kansas and every other month, Perry spent a week with him in Metropolis, despite his fears. It was how he felt about Perry’s mother that had begun to gnaw at him.

Lois hadn’t answered that first card. It hadn’t come back, but she hadn’t answered either. He’d waited… and waited. Finally he’d sent another, with much the same message. Six cards and six months later, he, too, was beginning to feel the same way Perry, Jimmy, and Jack did. Perry had even stopped his weekly visits to Glendale, choosing instead to go just once a month. The twins’ second birthday was on fast approach and Clark had never felt so frustrated about anything in his life. He wanted desperately to help Lois- almost felt a *need* to help her. But until she felt like she was ready to help herself, there wasn’t much he could do.

***

“No!” shouted the little boy as he stared up at the man smiling at him.

“Absolutely amazing,” Bill Church Sr. said as he looked into the face of his future. A future with untold potential.

“He’s just a boy,” said the woman holding the child.

“A very, very special boy,” was the remark from Bill Jr.

“Are we still on track?” asked Asabi as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

“You’ll have the funds within the hour,” was Senior’s answer.

“Very good.” He motioned for the woman to take the boy out of the room. “We shall see you in six months.” He turned to leave.

“Keep coming here,” Bill told him. “It’s safer. We’ve had several inquiries into our practices lately.”

“As you wish.” The man bowed and walked out.

When they were gone, Bill Jr. looked at his dad. “I’m telling you, Dad, that’s her.”

“Then I want her back here by dark. We’re already nearly a year behind in the studies. The other subjects are too easily manipulated.”

“You know who would make a good test subject? Superman.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, boy,” Bill told his son as he sat down at the table in the small room. They’d met with Asabi to inspect the boy at a new location this time. It had been risky bringing others to their hideaway, but they hadn’t had much choice. They’d been visited by one too many government agencies in recent weeks. It wouldn’t do for one of Lex’s minions to be seen coming or going from one of their properties in the city.

“It would just be an incredible experiment,” the younger Bill said as he poured himself a drink from the bottle on the table. “All of that power reduced to a blubbering idiot…” He laughed softly at the thought of Superman acting like a child. “And if we could control his mind…”

“How do you propose we get control of him? Not to mention the fact that the good doctors have just barely been able to perfect the formula for humans…”

“I know, I know.” He took a long sip from his glass.

“Why are you still here?” He looked up at his son with a stern expression. “I told you to get Lucy Lane back here.”

“I’m going,” he whined like a child, putting his glass back on the table.

Bill Sr. rubbed his temples as his son left the room. That boy was more trouble than he was worth.

Outside the door a man tucked himself against the wall as Bill Jr. walked past him. What now? What was he supposed to do? He’d been working in Church’s lab for nearly a year now and before that in Luthor’s lab, creating drugs that could literally strip a man of his mind. He’d watched and monitored some of the strongest men he’d ever seen as they’d been transformed into babies again. Now they wanted to test those drugs on his daughter. Well, not if he could help it. Sam Lane hurried in the direction of his meager room. He’d grab a few things, then he’d do what he should have done from the beginning- he’d help his family.

Sam went back to the lab, thanking the powers that be that Paul was not there. He grabbed a sample of the mind-altering drugs they’d been concocting, then slipped out of Church’s compound. He hotwired a truck and drove away without a second look from anyone. He wasn’t exactly a prisoner, but Bill had made it clear that it was easier for him to stay within the walls of his prison.

And that was what it was. He’d sealed his fate with his eyes wide open- knowing exactly what he was doing. The lure of all of that money Luthor had offered him was too great to pass up. Take a little money not to interfere with Luthor’s marriage to his daughter. It seemed simple enough. However, when he began to notice the changes in Lois, he said something to Lex. That had been a huge mistake. He was escorted from the room that very day, never to be returned home. Fear for his girls’ lives kept him in that lab working day and night. People had already died. He’d watched Nigel gun down several young men and women who had failed to comply with one request or another, so Sam never doubted Lex would do exactly what he said he’d do. When Lois had become pregnant, then after the birth, there were more lives to fear for.

But the hour of his greatest shame was the one where he went with Paul Lang willingly from one tyrant to another. Of course, Lex was dead. His daughter was in prison and unless he wanted to go for countless crimes, he’d keep his mouth shut and work next to a man that was almost as much a maniac as Lex. He later found out Paul was working for Bill Church. More precisely, he was selling Lex out. Or was he just straddling the fences? It was impossible to tell where Paul’s loyalties laid. He’d given up trying. All he knew was that Lang was evil, had done some despicable things and threatened to do unimaginable evils unless Sam helped him. And he had, until today.

He’d allowed his daughter to be locked away, although he wasn’t sure how he could help. But she probably thought he’d helped put her there. He’d allowed his grandson to be taken who knew where and until tonight by one of Lex’s nameless puppets. He hadn’t known exactly why the child had been carted away, but after overhearing the conversation in Church’s office, he knew now. Asabi saw the boy as a pay check. And what was with all the mumbo jumbo about the boy being ‘amazing’ and ‘special’?

It had been all he could do to keep quiet in his hiding place as he gazed at the woman holding his grandson. He’d loathed that child at one time because Luthor was his father. He realized now, the boy was also part of Lois. But what made him nearly shout out was the woman. Her hair was shorter, her face fuller. She looked peaceful and healthy. She looked like his little girl again. That was the reason he would not allow her to be *his* test subject. She- Lucy Lane, his youngest daughter- was the reason he was risking his neck now. To hell with his life- it was over. His business had probably fallen apart by now. His associates no doubt believed him dead. He’d save Lucy. He’d save his grandson.

***

Lucy stood looking out the window of the house she had lived in for the past six weeks. Asabi had moved them so many times in the last year it was hard to keep count. If it wasn’t for the little boy sleeping in the other room, she’d have been gone long ago. It didn’t matter what they did to her. She’d ruined her own life with the endless stream of booze and drugs. If the law caught up with her, she’d be in the state prison with Lois. But that baby boy needed someone to protect him. He was the reason she got up each morning and he was the reason she stayed.

She turned to look at the dark-haired child lying on the bed. Fear had kept her from wavering where he was concerned. They’d threatened to break his legs, his arms, his fingers. She’d believed them when they said they could find him anywhere. Just look at all the places they’d been. It took a lot of money and endless resources to keep them on the move. What they said must be true.

Movement off to the side caught her eye, scaring her at first. The bush beside the steps moved and she took a half step backwards. When a man jumped over the rail and landed on the porch, she almost screamed.

“Daddy?” she whispered. She moved to the door and opened it slowly.

“Grab a bag and let’s get out of here before Asabi gets back,” Sam said by the time he stepped inside. He was stuffing clothes into a bag before she could move.

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting you out.” He stopped and looked at her. “What are you waiting for?”

“They’ll find us.”

“We’ll hide in plain sight. If they try anything, they’ll go down.”

“Plain sight?”

“When we leave here, we’re going straight to Metropolis.”

Lucy stared at him like he had lost his mind. “We can’t do that.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“I have to.” She waved at the boy.

“He’s coming, too,” Sam said and continued to gather a few things for them.

“Daddy…” she pleaded and reached out to grasp his arm.

“Lucy,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “If you stay, they are going to turn you into a lab rat.” He stared at her, trying to explain in his expression what he couldn’t voice. “Please, honey. Let’s just leave. We’ll go to Perry White. He’ll know what to do.”

She glanced back at Collin, then nodded. Quickly she helped her dad gather a bag for the baby and for herself before she carefully lifted the boy from the bed. She followed Sam out and down the street to a waiting van. He closed them up in back and sped away.

***

For the third time in the past month Perry was contemplating retirement. The situation with Lois had dampened his fire for news. He was at the point where he could almost care less. It would be so much easier to just get up every morning and head down to the dock to drown a few worms in his search for Old Nelly. Old Nelly was rumored to be the largest bass in Lake Murray. She was the reason he’d bought a house in Cutler’s Cove six years ago. His ringing phone was a welcome distraction.

“Perry White.”

“Meet me on Carver Road, at the motel across from Jones’ Diner. Room six on the side. Come as quick as you can get here and Perry… bring the posse. We’re going to need a police escort out of here.”

There was a click, telling him the caller had hung up. He’d thought that was the strangest call in the world, then his mind registered what his ears had heard. “I’ll be an Elvis impersonator!” he shouted and jumped to his feet. “Kent!”

Clark looked up to see his editor running out of his office. “Get your butt in gear. Jimmy, call Henderson and tell him to get a team of his trusted men down to Carver Road Motel. Jack, we need the rep from the Center here ASAP!”

“Chief?” Clark asked him, his heart beginning to pound. The Center meant there might be word about Collin.

“I just got a call from Sam Lane. Let’s go get our boy!” Of course, he hadn’t said he had the boy, but Perry knew enough to know this was it. This was what they’d been waiting for. “Get Mayson on the phone,” he told Clark as they stepped into the elevator.

“Wait up. We’re coming, too,” Jack shouted as he and Jimmy ran to the car with them. Both were on their cell phones. By the time they reached the parking level, all of them were talking. They hurried in the direction of Perry’s car and two minutes later, Clark was driving them out onto the street.

“Carver Road?” he asked, unsure which direction to go.

“Take I-36 toward Glendale. It’s exit 16.”

“Henderson says to tell you he’ll pick you up at exit 3 for an escort. He’s blocking the northbound lane,” Jimmy said as he leaned up over the seat. “What did he say?”

“Just to get there and bring the boys in blue.”

“And you’re sure it was Sam Lane?” Jack wanted to know.

“Yeah, Jack, I’m sure. It took me a second to recognize his voice, but it was him.” Perry held tight to the door as Clark weaved in and out of traffic.

“You do know this would be quicker if you’d just fly us out?” All three men glared at Jack when he spoke to Clark. “What? It would, but I guess considering we might have half the police force with us in two minutes…” He pointed up ahead at the dozen or so cars on the interstate overpass.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let him know we knew,” Jimmy whispered fiercely.

“I just think it’s crazy not to tell him we know. I mean, come on. Clark’s our friend and it would be so much easier for him not to have to make up those lame excuses.”

Clark whipped the car to the side of the road halfway up the ramp to the interstate, then shifted so he could see the other men in the car. “What?”

Perry reached over and grasped his shoulder. “We know you’re Superman, son. We’ve known for a while now. We…” He cut his eyes at Jack. “… agreed we wouldn’t say anything because we felt you had a good reason for keeping it from us.”

“Tell ‘em, CK,” Jack said. “You would have told us eventually. We’re family, right? Family sticks together and you were going to let us in on it sooner or later.”

Clark looked at his wide expectant eyes and wanted to hug the younger man. Jack didn’t give trust easily. To have him feel so strongly toward him was amazing. He’d thought about telling them more than one time, especially lately. “How?” was what he finally wanted to know.

“I swear Jack’s got Mad Dog blood,” Jimmy told him. “He figured it out.”

“And you felt you should discuss it with them instead of me?” Clark wanted to know.

“Come on, CK, I talk about everything with Jimmy and hell, the Chief already knew. He knows everything.”

Not being able to do anything else, Clark smiled. “I would have told you,” he let Jack know as he carefully pulled back onto the road.

Jack clapped Clark’s shoulder over the seat, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with us.”

“Yeah, CK,” Jimmy added. “But personally, I’m glad you know I know. It makes knowing a lot easier.”

“I’m glad you know, too, Jimmy.” And he was. He liked having others who knew. Others he could talk to. “So, Sam said he has Collin?” Clark asked of Perry, closing the discussion on his alter ego for now.

“No. But he’s got him.”

“I wonder how,” Jimmy said. “The man’s been MIA for a while now. Do you think he’s had him this whole time?”

“Oh, for his sake he better not have,” Perry told them. “I’ll kill that man myself.”

As they reached the waiting police cars Clark blinked his lights, allowing the escort to take the lead. Several more marked and unmarked cars fell in behind. The thirty-mile drive barely took fifteen minutes. Police cars swarmed the motel, surrounding it completely. A swat van that had been the second vehicle to arrive emptied the fully-dressed team onto the courtyard. Within seconds, every door had been kicked open to make sure the building was secure. They were about to go through number six when it opened.

“Don’t shoot,” Sam Lane said as he stepped into the doorway with his hands held up. “My daughter and grandson are coming out.”

Lucy, clutching Collin, slowly exited the room and was immediately swept toward the police van by two officers.

“Collin!” Clark breathed and was on his way toward them until Perry held him back.

“Let them do their jobs, son.”

The five or so minutes he waited were pure torture. Finally the van doors opened and Henderson stepped out holding Collin.

“Let’s go, Kent,” he shouted and the man was off.

Clark was ushered into the opposite door of the cruiser Henderson had shoved the baby into. A female officer was holding Collin when Clark closed the door. The car sped away, following another vehicle and with one behind.

“Hi there, little guy,” Clark told the boy as he looked at him. The poor fellow looked scared to death. His wide eyes searched back and forth, trying to keep up with everything that was happening. “I sure am glad to see you.” He reached out tentatively to touch his hand. The stress and commotion was just too much. The boy primped up and started to cry.

“Maybe you should take him,” the officer suggested. She looked more terrified than the child.

Collin screamed loudly, but didn’t fight as Clark pulled him over onto his lap. “I know you don’t know what’s going on, but I promise you’re safe now,” he spoke softly as he put the boy against his chest. “I know. I know,” he soothed as the baby kept crying. He fought for a minute, then gave up and let Clark hold him. “Shhh,” he told him, smoothing his hand over his back. “Shhh.”

By the time they made it back into the city, Collin had calmed to a whimper. His soft hiccups vibrated through Clark’s chest as he continued to struggle with what was going on. The police car pulled up to the back entrance of the station and Clark was guided inside. The representative from the Center for Missing Children was there and so was Mayson Drake.

“Clark!” She and the rep, along with a couple of other people, were waiting inside the conference room. “Poor thing must be scared to death.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed as he held the boy while he sat up to look around him. His eyes met Mayson’s and filled with tears again.

“Oh, honey, don’t cry.”

“Stop!” he yelled and slapped at her.

Clark grasped his hand gently and tucked it by his side. “Calm down, little man. It’s going to be okay.” The boy’s eyes met his and they stared at one another. Collin must have decided the man was okay because he looked around at everyone else.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kent,” the rep spoke up. “We just need to go over a few things and we’ll close this case. Something we’re more than ready to do.”

Clark returned the smile from the other man as he glanced at the child he held. He talked with the rep and the other men he learned were also from the Center. One was liaison to the child protective services agency on Clark’s behalf. The details of official transfer of custody were all completed, the men congratulated Clark and left him and the boy alone with Mayson.

“All of the paperwork is done,” Mayson told him. “As soon as Bill gets here, you can take him home.”

Home, Clark thought as looked at the boy. He had what he’d been praying for this last year and suddenly he was scared senseless. He had no idea what kind of trauma this child had been through, how difficult he’d behave, or even how he’d suddenly ended up in a motel outside the city. Who’d had him? Why? Who would be looking for him now?

A large hand smoothed down the unruly black hair on the baby’s head as he looked at him. Collin was just as gorgeous as his sister. He had the same chubby cheeks and wide, brown eyes. He couldn’t wait to see them together. Would they remember one another? Would they get along?

Were his parents ready for another toddler? Was he?

Before he could think about any of that, Henderson, Perry, and the others came in.

“Oh, wow, look at you,” Jimmy said as he got his first look at the baby. Collin glared at him, pulling away slightly.

“Kid, we are so damn glad to see you,” Jack thought he should know.

“Language, Jack,” Perry reprimanded the younger man. He rubbed Collin’s arm and smiled brightly. “Your mama’s gonna see me now whether she wants to or not.”

“Does this mean we’re back in business?” Jack wanted to know.

“All bets are off,” Perry answered without looking away from the boy. Jack pumped his fist, more than ready to get back to the investigation.

“Okay, so we’ve questioned Sam a bit,” Henderson spoke up, cutting into their reunion. “He was on Luthor’s payroll until the high dive.” Henderson wasn’t exactly sad the man was gone. “He was recruited by Paul Lang to help create a mind-altering drug. That’s where he’s been until three days ago. He overheard a negotiation between Bill Church and Asabi. Asabi, along with Lucy Lane, have had the child. Lucy was found in the gutter right after Lois was locked up. She was cleaned up and taken to Spain to care for the baby. She was also drugged to keep her nice and calm.”

“Sam overheard this exchange and what? Finally decided it was time for him to be a man?” Perry wanted to know.

“He claims threats were made, that he stayed and did the work to keep his girls and the boy alive,” Bill went on. “But when Church ordered his son to bring Lucy back to be the test subject for this new drug, Lane leapt into action. He said he felt Lois, Lucy, and Collin were safer in the spotlight.”

“How did he find them?” Clark asked.

“I have no idea and he hasn’t said. I guess he knew who to ask and where to look.”

“Why clean Lucy up if you’re just gonna pump her full of pills again?” Jack spoke up.

“The drugs she was given were a lot different than the street stuff she was taking. But she’s a mess. Her mind is almost like mush. She’ll have to undergo some serious rehab before she’ll be lucid enough to testify against Luthor.”

“Testify against Luthor?” Jimmy asked him.

“Oh yeah. Nigel took her to Spain and kept her there. That’s international kidnapping. And if my hunch is right, Luthor ordered that kidnapping long before he went for his little flight. Anyway, Sam Lane has a long night ahead of him answering questions about his last few months. Kent, take that boy home and hold him tight.”

“Don’t worry, Bill. I intend to.” Clark smiled at Collin who was still staring wide-eyed at everyone.

“We’re hoping Sam can help us locate Nigel and Asabi and anybody else who might pose a threat. But if you feel you need protection, don’t hesitate to ask for it. I’ll make some calls and have a little muscle sent out to Kansas if I need to. You do intend to take him to the farm?”

“In a day or two,” Clark confirmed. He didn’t know for sure, but he believed Henderson knew little Perry was Lois’ child, too. Of course, he’d learned today that many people knew all kinds of things.

“You’ll have to bring the baby into the hospital tomorrow for an exam. I would have ordered it tonight, but Lucy assures me that since he’s been with her he hasn’t been harmed.”

Clark’s eyes shifted from Bill to Collin. He hadn’t thought about anything being wrong with the baby. He guessed it made sense to have him checked out though. Maybe he’d even give him a once over Superman style in a little while to make sure.

“It’s a mad house out there,” Bill said as he opened the door.

“We knew this wouldn’t stay quiet long,” Perry spoke up. “Ready?” he asked Clark.

“Yeah.”

The rep from the Center had gone out the front door to give a statement to the mass of press that had gathered in such a short time. Sometimes it was amazing how quickly the news world found out things. Clark followed Perry out the back where he’d parked. He tucked Collin’s head against his chest and got into the backseat of the car.

“I’ll call you,” Mayson said as she held the door and looked in on him.

“Thank you,” he said as he gave her a half smile.

“Just take care of him.” She closed the door and watched the car pull away.

***

“Hey, CK, when we get to your place, if you’ll make me and Jack a list, we’ll scoot out and get Collin a few things he might need,” Jimmy said as he looked over the seat from his position beside Perry in front.

“That would be good, Jimmy.”

“Bill gave us this bag.” Jack indicated the black duffel beside him. “It has a few clothes and diapers.”

“That’s good.” Clark rubbed the boy’s bottom. “I believe he needs a change.” Collin was still staring at everyone as if he was scared to death. Poor guy didn’t know what was going on. If Clark could make this easier for him, he certainly would. The boy had been through so many changes since his birth.

Wide, questioning eyes looked at Clark. His small hand went up to touch his cheek. “Cup,” he said clearly.

“Are you thirsty, big guy?”

“Ah, do you think he can drink from a straw?” Jimmy passed back a large Styrofoam cup from the front.

Clark held it out, offering it to the baby. Collin looked at it a second before he leaned over and grasped the straw with his lips. He definitely knew how to drink from a straw because he sucked hard, gulping down whatever was in the cup. He paused long enough to take a breath, then sucked again. The whole time he never took his eyes off Clark’s. Finally he drew away and looked over at Jack.

“He sure looks a lot like his sister,” the younger man said as he smiled at him.

“Stop!” Collin shouted at him and tried to hit him.

“Hey, hey, I’m your friend,” Jack informed him as he held up his hands. Collin leaned over and smacked the closest hand. Jack laughed softly. “You know how to give five!” He waited for him to do it once more and wasn’t disappointed. The boy slapped his hand against the bigger one again, then sat back to glare at Jack. Jack glared right back.

Collin glanced at Clark before looking at Jack again. Finally he offered up a little smile.

“Oh wow! He has dimples just like Perry,” Jack said excitedly.

Clark’s hand smoothed over the side of Collin’s face. He’d placed the cup in the holder so he could better hold the boy. It was good to see the child have an expression that displayed something other than uncertainly and fear.

“Ah, man, CK, the bottom feeders are at your place,” Jimmy spoke up as they neared Clark’s building.

“Like Perry said, we knew this was going to happen. We’ve made his abduction international news.”

“I’ll pull up and get out to come around and help you fight this crowd,” Perry said as he parked on the curb. He rushed around, along with Jack. “Hey, back off,” he shouted to the reporters clamoring for a word from them.

“How did you find the boy?” came a question.

Clark took a deep breath, tucked Collin’s head against his chest- much to the little guy’s protests- then stepped out when Perry opened the door.

“Mr. Kent, are you glad to have the boy home?”

“Yes,” Clark answered as he moved slowly through the throng.

“Why did Mrs. Luthor grant you custody?” came the next question.

“Lane,” Jimmy corrected. “Her name is Lois Lane.”

“What’s your association with Ms. Lane?”

“Where’s he been?”

“Who had him?”

“Will LexCorp push to regain custody?”

The questions came one after another as they worked their way toward Clark’s apartment. They finally made it to the door and closed themselves safely inside.

“Wow! Do we act like that?” Jack asked as he stepped down into the living room.

“Lois did when she was at her prime,” Jimmy said with a chuckle. “You should have seen her.” He dropped to the sofa and propped up his feet.

Clark took Collin to the bedroom and laid him on the bed to change him. The boy didn’t protest, just stared at him intently. While Clark changed him, he gave him a quick once over with his super vision, relieved that nothing seemed to be amiss. No scars, no healing bones, and no evidence of any other kind of abuse. It appeared Lucy was telling the truth and that Collin had been taken good care of. When he was done, Clark picked the boy back up. The child’s eyes searched his new surroundings carefully. How many new places had the child seen in his short life? They went back out to the other room and Collin’s eyes spotted the toy box beside the couch. He struggled to get down, so Clark set him on his feet and he immediately went to search out something to play with. Clark was relieved to see him at ease enough to play. He supposed the boy had learned to adapt.

“That poor kid’s probably been through the ringer,” Perry deduced as they all watched him.

Collin rooted around in the toys for a moment before finding a ball. “Ball!” he yelled and turned to show it to Clark.

“That’s right, son, that’s a ball,” Clark said and knelt to look at the item with him.

“Ah, man, now you have twice the responsibilities, CK,” Jack said. “Why did you agree to all of this? And for a woman you don’t even know?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” Clark said as he watched Collin go back to the box. “They needed somebody to take care of them.”

“Well, like I tell all my other buddies, they don’t make ‘em any better than you.” He stood up and went in search of something to drink.

“Son,” Perry spoke up. “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

“What choice do I have, Perry?” Clark told him. “They can’t take care of themselves.”

“Ball!” Collin had found another ball, and he promptly threw it at Clark.

The man chuckled and reached blindly for the toy. “How about I fix us all something to eat?”

“I need to get home to Alice,” Perry said. “Jimmy, think you can swing back by and put the paper to bed tonight?”

“You want me to do it?” His wide eyes told him he was stunned.

“Sure. I need to smooch with my wife tonight.” Perry started toward the door. “You have plenty of time though. Run to the store for Clark and have dinner.”

“I won’t let you down, Chief,” Jimmy said with a wide grin.

Clark stood and clapped Perry’s back. “Give Alice a smooch for me, too.”

“Hey, hey.” Perry pointed his finger at him. “See ya, big guy,” he said with a wave at Collin.

“Bye, bye,” was his answer from the curious child. He even threw up a small hand.

“Well, I’ll be Elvis’ manager.”

Clark laughed softly before heading toward the kitchen. “Let me call my folks and I’ll get that list ready.”

“Take your time.” Jimmy clicked on the TV to search for something to make noise.

Collin turned and ran toward the set. He stopped just inches from it and stared. “Jump! Jump!” And he did exactly that.

The younger men laughed. “Maybe he wants to hear some music,” Jack offered.

Jimmy clicked it over to the video channel and Collin started to dance. “Oh, wow!”

“Check it, CK. He likes music like his sister!”

Clark laughed and turned away as his mom answered the phone. “Mom?”

“Hi, son. Is everything okay?”

“Mom, we found Collin.” There was a long pause on the other end, then his dad joined the conversation.

“You got him?” the man wanted to know.

“We have him. Just a little while ago.”

“Is he okay? Was he hurt? They hadn’t done anything to him, had they?” His mother fired questions at him so quickly he couldn’t answer.

“Mom, calm down. He’s great. Scared, but in great shape. He was with Lois’ sister. We still don’t know what they held him for.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s home and that’s all that matters,” his mother told him.

“When are you gonna bring him out, son?” his father wanted to know.

“Tomorrow maybe. Or the next day. I want to get him acclimated a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be ready for him,” he was assured. “Give him a hug from his Papa.”

Clark couldn’t help but smile. His folks had insisted these kids were their grandchildren a long time ago. Nana and Papa was what Perry called them. Hell, she called him Dadda. It had just seemed the most natural thing for her to do and the first time she’d said it, Clark was blown away. It felt right. And being as how he took care of her like a father should, he thought it was justified. Apparently everyone else did, too. They’d never referred to him as anything other than daddy around Perry.

He said his good-byes to his parents and located his notepad. He jotted down a few items for Jack and Jimmy to pick up for Collin. He would have to go buy more clothes later, but the guys could pick up enough to get him through the night.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Jimmy told the other man as he took the list and started toward the door. When they opened it, Mayson was about to knock. “Hey, come on in. We were on the way to grab some things for CK.”

“Clark?” Mayson called after she closed the door. Collin turned from the TV and looked up at her. “Hey there, Collin.”

He ran to the kitchen, hiding behind Clark’s leg. “Stop!” he shouted at Mayson.

Clark chuckled softly. “I think that’s his favorite word,” Clark said as he tried to walk over to the counter with the items he’d fished out of the fridge. He was thrilled Collin felt comfortable enough to seek shelter with him. The boy clutched his leg tightly so it made moving difficult.

“I made a few calls and had a patrol stop out front and issue a few warnings.”

“Thanks. I’ll give an official statement in a day or two.” Clark pulled out the cutting board and grabbed a knife. He glanced down at the boy still clinging to his leg. “Hey, little man, how would you like a snack?” He opened a banana and held part of it down for him. Collin eyed it carefully before taking it. He eased away from Clark enough so he could look around the kitchen island at Mayson. “Looks like he’s checking you out.”

Mayson smiled over at the boy. “That’s okay.” She watched Clark as he worked to get dinner prepared.

“Do you want to join us for dinner? Spaghetti and salad. I figured he’d eat that.”

Collin went back around and held up his hand to Clark. “More!”

“You want the rest?” He gave the boy the banana and went back to chopping veggies. He glanced up at Mayson, then did something he’d never done in front of her- he used his powers. His hands became a blur and when he was done, so was the salad.

She looked up at him and grinned. “Nice, Mr. Kent.”

He laughed aloud and turned to lower his glasses so he could heat the water in the pot for the pasta. The gas stove would cook it quickly, but he often helped it out by getting it to boiling. “So, are you staying to eat with us?”

“Yeah, I guess I am hungry. And being as how your check for my services never reached the bank…”

He turned to look at her with a quirked brow. “A lawyer who works for food. I could handle that kind of fee.”

They laughed together as he continued to work. Collin had drifted back into the living room to dance in front of the TV.

“I’ve asked Dan to come on board as an investigator for Lois.” Clark looked up at her. “I’ve also filed for Post-Conviction Relief- a PCR. She might not want the help, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m convinced things are not what they seem.”

“This PCR, what will it do?”

“I’m using it for sentence reduction. She agreed to plead guilty and made that deal without proper legal representation. If I can get a judge from another jurisdiction to hear the relief request, I think we can get her bounced out of there in half the time she agreed to.”

“Tell me how a judge agreed to give someone ten years for a murder conviction anyway? Doesn’t that carry a thirty-year minimum sentence in New Troy?”

“Yes, but the agreement was for murder in the third degree.”

“Wouldn’t Luthor turn over in his grave to know his cronies dealt her down so far?”

Mayson laughed at that. She jumped in surprise when a small hand smacked her leg.

“Stop!”

“Just tell me what I did and I’ll be glad to,” she told the boy with a smile.

He glared at her, a confused expression on his face.

Clark pulled one of Perry’s cups from the cabinet and poured the little guy some milk. “How about this, son?”

Collin looked back at him where he’d knelt at the end of the counter. After a moment, he walked over and took the cup. “Ta-ta,” he mumbled around the spout.

“You’re welcome,” Clark answered. Ta-Ta was the same thing Perry said to say thank you. Collin pulled the cup away from his lips and offered Clark a wide smile before running back in the other room. “Wow,” Clark breathed, blown away by the child’s bright grin.

“Looks like another kid has you wrapped,” Mayson commented.

Clark stood and walked back around to the stove. “Yeah, well, it’s easy to do when you have chubby cheeks and dimples.”

“Maybe I should have gained a few pounds,” Mayson mumbled as she watched Collin.

“Careful,” he cautioned. “I have super ears.”

“Yeah, I know.” They looked at one another, then smiled again. They often bantered like that when they were together, although this was the first time he’d made references to his super side. Clark had gained a true friend in Mayson. He was very glad he’d met her.

***

Clark sat on the window seat and watched Collin sleep. The boy had been terrified to close his eyes. He’d cried for nearly an hour. They’d walked, rocked, sang, listened to music, and even took a second bath. Finally Clark floated off the floor and flew Collin around the apartment. To his amazement, it had calmed the child almost immediately.

What must that child think? The first few months of his life he’d been cared for by a nanny and a mother so out of her mind she probably didn’t know who the baby was. Then the nanny was ripped from him and he was swept away by God only knew who. Nigel had kidnapped Lucy to care for him. Obviously he’d done that just so Lois would agree to sign part of her life away. But why? Luthor was dead, and Nigel was the star witness. Lois had already been in an impossible position. Why have her agree to only ten years?

How had Collin gone from being with Nigel to being with Asabi? He guessed Asabi had taken Collin for financial reasons. Who was paying him to keep that child? Why would they? Did having Luthor’s son give someone power over his estate?

A reporter outside his apartment had asked if LexCorp would try to regain custody. He’d asked Mayson about it. She’d assured him that a corporation could not attain custody of a child. When Lucy was able to testify who her kidnapper had been, LexCorp would be further discredited. Clark was just thankful Luthor didn’t have any living family members who might step forward with a claim on the boy. While he might not have asked to be an instant daddy to twins, he couldn’t imagine handing them over to anyone else other than their mother.

Looking at Collin, Clark couldn’t help but see Lois in his features. His small stature and curious eyes could both be attributed to his mother. He also had her lips. From what Jimmy said, Collin had her fire as well. There was a definite resemblance between mother and son. Of course, Perry looked like Lois as well. They were both gorgeous children and he was glad he’d gotten a chance to know them. The sacrifices he’d made and would make were nothing compared to the rewards. And if he listened to Jack, they could even pass for his children. He’d said at dinner tonight that it was uncanny how much Collin looked like him, even more so than Perry.

He laughed softly as he rose and walked over to ease into the bed beside ‘his’ son. If Collin was an early riser, he’d need a bit of rest to keep up with him. He’d also need his strength, both mentally and physically, for the physical exam Henderson insisted on.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day Lois finally talked with Perry, too.

***

Lois was angrier than she’d ever been in her life. Hadn’t she told Perry she didn’t want to see anybody? Hadn’t she told Mayson she didn’t need her help anymore? No meant no!

The guard made her go to the attorney visiting area even though she protested quite loudly. She’d been told that if she didn’t go, it would mean a week in solitary. That wasn’t a place she wanted to go. She couldn’t read the on-line version of the Planet. And unless she finished up in laundry, she’d miss her chance today to read it.

The door opened and Lois stepped in. Perry had been pacing behind Mayson where she sat at the table. He stopped and looked over at the woman he’d once felt was his daughter. This one was no one he knew. She was lean, leaner than before, toned to perfection- maybe even too much. Her hair was mid-length, feathered in layers- quite different than any style she’d ever worn. But what kept Perry from recognizing her was the haunted expression on her face. She was void of emotion, a cold glare casting shadows behind her eyes. The scowl matched her defensive posture.

Deciding to remain as defiant as she possibly could, Lois didn’t even blink when she saw Perry in the room. “I thought I told both of you I didn’t want to see you.”

“We found Collin,” Perry told her right away.

The arms Lois had clasped across her chest fell slowly to her sides as the expression on her face was transformed in an instant. “What?”

“He’s with Clark as we speak.”

Her eyes filled with tears no matter what she insisted her body do, so she whirled toward the door, unable and unwilling to show how affected she was.

“All of the paperwork has been done,” Mayson spoke up.

“They won’t take him away again?” she whispered, interrupting whatever the lawyer was trying to say.

“Not if we can help it,” Perry said, moving toward her. He couldn’t stand to see her like this.

“That’s just it,” Lois almost shouted when she faced them again. “You can’t stop them. No one can. If Lex wanted that child for whatever sick reason, those orders will be carried out even now. His cronies were paid well to remain loyal. And death didn’t void the contract.”

“Lois,” Mayson tried. “We have things under control. An international warrant has been issued for Nigel’s and Asabi’s arrest.”

“Lucy?” she asked. Her sister had been caring for Collin. What did they do to her?

“She’s going to be in the hospital for a long time, Lois. They’d been giving her some kind of experimental drug.”

Lois looked at the other woman. “Probably the same stuff they were giving me.”

Perry nodded. “Yeah, yeah. S.T.A.R. Labs is comparing the two. If we could have made a connection with you…” He shoved a rough hand across his thin hair.

“I made my choices, Perry,” Lois told him as she pulled out a chair and sat down. They were here and wouldn’t leave until she’d listened to them.

“No, Lois, Luthor made them for you. He took away your right to say no when he shoved those pills down your throat.” Perry sat across from her, pleading with her to understand. She knew he was right, but if he knew Lois, she felt ashamed of herself and probably embarrassed by the situation she’d gotten herself into.

“And look where it got me!”

“Excuse me for being so blunt, but you signed the damned papers.” Perry had passed frustrated a long time ago. If this girl wanted to do battle, he’d accommodate her.

“What choice did I have?” she asked him as she thrust herself back to her feet, glaring at Perry. “They would have broken my boy’s legs.”

“And now they won’t be able to.” Perry rose and faced off with her. “So why don’t you get off your ass and quit feeling sorry for yourself so we can push Luthor’s arrogance down his cold, dead throat?!

Lois stood there, her chest moving up and down in an effort to control her anger. She hadn’t been able to let it out, not like she’d wanted to.

Mayson stood and reached out to grab Perry’s arm. “Why don’t we all just sit down and talk this over rationally?”

Perry and Lois squared off for several more minutes before they slowly sat back down.

“Now, Collin is safe. Child protective services has released him to Clark and they’re getting to know one another. As far as keeping him safe, I think we have that covered. LexCorp is in the limelight and if I have anything to do with it, we’ll keep them there. Trying anything to harm Collin would be a grave mistake.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out a few papers. “Being as you don’t want to help yourself, I felt someone had to. I’ve filed a PCR- post conviction relief. Most of the time this kind of relief gets a conviction overturned, negating the need for a new trial. But in your case, you agreed to a plea bargain.”

“So a PCR would only be used to reduce my sentence,” Lois finished for her.

“I see you’re versed in law.”

“Yeah, well, I have a little extra time these days,” she answered sarcastically.

Mayson gave her a lopsided smile. Lately she’d come to truly feel sorry for this lady. She wished there was more she could do to help her. Unfortunately, she was doing all she could do. “LexCorp is not filing the paperwork. It might take a while for the PCR to come through.”

“I’ve got time,” she said with the same flippant tone again.

“In the meantime, we’re taking up the investigation again,” Perry told her.

“I swear, Perry, if you get my babies hurt…”

“Nobody is going to hurt either of those kids.”

She looked down at the table, suddenly feeling ten years older.

“Let’s go over what will happen with this relief appeal…”

Lois stared at a spot on the table while Mayson talked about the PCR, locating another judge, and shaving five years off her sentence. That meant she’d still be here for five *long* years. That was over four years from now. How in hell could she do that time without losing her mind? She already felt she’d go crazy. Getting up day after day, doing the same things over and over, and never being able to see her babies…

“Would you like to see them?”

Perry’s question made her head snap up, her eyes searching his. “How could I, Perry? How could I bring them here then get up over and over when all I’d want to do is see them again? It’s been a *long* year, but I’ve managed to be able to open my eyes every day without seeing them around every corner. To have them visit…” She turned her head, sniffing a little as she did so. “I just can’t do that to them.”

“Do that to them? Don’t you think they’d want to see their mother?” Perry asked her.

“I know they would.” She stood and paced over to look out the small window. “It’s been a year. They probably don’t even know who I am now. Why bring them here? To this horrid place to see their mother locked up like an animal? It’s bad enough I’ll have to tell them some day that I killed their father.”

“Stop that now!” Perry got up and went to her. “You didn’t kill Luthor. He killed himself.”

“Something happened on that roof and I can’t tell you what. All I do know is Lex is dead and I’m in jail for his murder.” She wiped her face, squared her shoulders, and faced Perry. “I won’t see the kids here. I just can’t. Obviously I can’t stop Mayson from doing whatever she’s doing, and I can’t stop you from investigating Lex now. So, you do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do.” She started toward the door.

“When all of this is over, I’ll expect you to finally admit that sometimes there’s another way to do things than just your way.”

Her sad eyes met Perry’s again. “Yeah, well, right now, nobody’s way is doing a bit of good, is it?”

He could only watch as she knocked on the door and left. He sighed heavily before facing Mayson. “Do whatever you have to do. The checks will keep coming and if you need anything else, call me. We’ll all do what we can on our end.”

“We’ll find it Perry,” Mayson said as she stood up. “We’ll find whatever Luthor was hiding from the world.”

He certainly hoped so. There was too much riding on it.

***

Clark had listened from outside the curtain as long as he could. He’d taken Collin to the hospital as Henderson had wanted him to do and the boy was taken into an exam room. The doctor had thought it best Clark wait outside, to help keep the boy calm. However, it hadn’t worked very well. The toddler began screaming from the time Clark passed him off to the nurse, and he hadn’t stopped yet. Nearly ten minutes later, Clark had enough. He pushed the curtain aside and stepped up to the bed.

“Collin, son, listen to me.” His eyes snapped up to the woman holding the child’s arms. “Let me.” She glared at him, but released her hold on the child. Clark lifted the boy up and smoothed his hand over his bare back. “Is this really necessary?” he asked the doctor. “You’ve taken x-rays and found nothing. Ears, eyes, chest are all clear. What do you need blood for?”

“We need to make sure there are no drugs in his system? period Please, Mr. Kent, Inspector Henderson said it has to be documented.”

And he knew Bill was right. It was better to be safe than sorry. If there were drugs in Collin’s system, it could have severe effects on him later. Or the deadly stuff could have already had consequences. He just hated to hear him cry. He’d calmed a bit, obviously convinced Clark was his shelter from the storm because he’d wrapped his small arms around the man’s large neck. Clark squeezed his eyes closed a moment before nodding his consent. He pried Collin from his neck, who immediately began screaming loudly again. “Son, listen.” He held one of the flailing arms, carefully tucking him against his side. “I’ll hold his arm,” he said to the nurse. She nodded and waited for Clark to get Collin situated for her to draw the blood. The boy struggled and screamed louder, but Clark managed, very painfully, to hold him until the procedure was finished. As soon as it was over, he pulled the child back to his chest. This time instead of seeking shelter, Collin pushed against him.

“Stop! Stop!” he shouted, then slapped Clark’s face.

“I know, son, I know.” He allowed the boy to fight until he’d drained himself. He finally stopped struggling and whimpered, hiccups the tale-tell sign that he’d been upset. Clark carefully lifted his hand and wiped the wet face staring up at him with sad, questioning eyes. “I know you don’t understand, but this had to be done.” He shifted him to the bed and began to redress him. Collin didn’t fight, just laid there, sniffling and watching him carefully. When Clark had him redressed, he picked him up and faced the doctor. “Are we finished?”

“Yes. Collin seems healthy and well nourished.”

“Good.” He smoothed a hand over unruly hair. “Thank you.”

“I’ll send my report to Henderson.”

Clark nodded and he and Collin left the hospital. The child did a fair job ignoring him on the way downtown. They stopped for a Happy Meal and the boy refused to eat. Clark tried to reason with him, but it was no use. They made their way to the Planet and up to Perry’s office.

“Hey, CK. Collin, my main man,” Jack said and held up his hand for a high five. The boy stared at him for a moment before slapping his hand in return. “That’s my boy!”

“Looks like it’s just me he’s mad at,” Clark commented as he tried again to get the boy’s attention.

“Why’s he mad?”

“I took him to the hospital to be checked over and held him while they took blood.”

“Ouch! Hey, come here.” Jack held out his hands to grasp Collin under his arms. “Let’s me and you go find some donuts.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Clark said as he relinquished the angry boy over to the younger man. Collin wasn’t exactly happy to go, but he didn’t fight either. After watching them walk away, Clark continued to Perry’s office.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be taking care of that boy,” Perry insisted as he looked up from sorting files on his desk.

“Jack’s got him.” He indicated with a quick wave of his hand. “He’s a little upset because of the exam today.”

“I can understand that.” He lifted a file and read a moment. “I have all of your notes in a box. You can hit the ground running when you get back. Of course, it’s still a time permitting thing. There’s something there, but we can’t pull you and Jimmy off the daily beat to work on it exclusively. It’ll be all Jack does, unless he’s needed for something else.”

“I take it you saw Lois today.”

“Yeah.” Perry looked at him sadly. “This has really broke that girl. I’ve never seen someone so… angry.”

“She has good reason to be angry,” Clark defended her.

“Oh yeah, I agree. The bitterness is what really tore my heart out. She’s let this taint all that’s good in her. Said she didn’t even want to see the kids.”

“What?”

“I asked if she’d like to see her babies and you’d have thought I’d sentenced her to ten more years.”

Clark glanced out at Collin. How could she not want to see them?

How could she in that house of hell? If Lois was anything like he suspected her to be, she didn’t want to expose those children to that kind of environment. And she probably felt that if she saw them once, she’d die having to leave them behind again.

“I guess I can understand a little of how she feels,” Perry interrupted his thoughts. “I know I’d die having to look at my babies through a glass wall. Not to mention watching them leave with someone else again.”

“Then having to think of nothing but that,” Clark finished. “She’s probably managed to get her mind to a place she’s able to breathe.”

“Yeah, she said as much.” Perry walked around the desk and squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “I believe I’ve found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow with you, boy.”

Clark chuckled and dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Hey, guys,” Jack said as he and Collin came into the room. “This fellow likes chocolate donuts.”

“He *is* his mother’s son,” Jimmy spoke up as he walked up behind them.

Collin just looked between them, chocolate covering his lips. He held his donut out, his lips puckered as he chewed. He took another bite, staring at everyone like he thought they’d lost their minds.

They all shared a brief laugh as they watched him.

“What do you say, big guy? You ready to cut me a break?” Clark reached out tentatively, almost relieved when the boy leaned over, giving permission for the man to take him. “Guess that chocolate’s helped with your anger.”

“Maybe we should send a few hundred pounds to the prison,” Jack commented and picked up a few files from Perry’s desk. “Later, CJ,” he told the boy. He waved over his shoulder as he went off to work his magic. If there was something to be found, that boy would find it.

Clark and Collin took their leave, allowing Perry and Jimmy to get back to work. Outside on the sidewalk, Clark rooted around in the backpack he’d brought along with some of Collin’s things in it to search out a wipe. As he cleaned the toddler’s hands, he glanced up at him. “What do you think we should do today?” The boy was more interested in the people rushing by around them. And the noises and cars and shouts… it was as if it all excited the little guy. “How about the park? Would you like to go play?” He lifted him from the top of the news rack he’d sat him on to clean him up and they headed toward Centennial Park.

The boy’s head jerked back and forth as he looked at all of the new surroundings. “Haven’t you ever been to the park?” Clark asked him. By the time he stood the little fellow on his feet beside the jungle gym, he’d deduced that Collin had probably never been a lot of places. He’d make it a point to go speak with Lucy Lane as soon as she was able.

Collin stood staring up at the slide and the other kids running around. He glanced back at Clark, who was kneeling behind him waiting patiently. A little girl’s shriek made him jump and his expression indicated he might cry. But after a moment it passed and he took a step. A glance at Clark who smiled, then a step. Before long, the curious child was climbing the large platform up onto the jungle gym. With an expression that must have been part of his genetic make-up, he flopped down and pushed like he’d seen the other kids do. Clark caught him at the bottom of slide and was rewarded with a wide grin.

“Look at that!” He quickly placed him on his feet because impatience had set in. Collin was off at a run. By the third slide, he laughed aloud. “Oh wow!” Clark lifted him up above his head, smiling at the sound the child made. He was rewarded with another laugh. “I like that!”

Down again, the boy was headed toward the swing. He jumped up and down, glancing back at Clark to come help him. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” he shouted over and over.

“Okay, okay. I get the hint,” Clark said as he went over and lifted the boy into a child swing. “This is a swing,” he explained as he set the seat in motion. A sharp intake of breath told him the child was scared. He immediately reached out to stop the swing.

“No!” the boy said and pushed his hand off the seat. “Go!”

“You’re a brave one, huh?” He set him moving again, realizing Collin had been surprised by the motion of the toy. After several moments, surprise had been replaced with pure excitement. And his laughter started again.

“Go!” The boy jumped up and down in his seat, laughing and shouting happily. “Jump! Jump!”

Clark laughed with him. The string of jumbled words was impossible to understand, but Collin was sure enjoying his playtime. Soon enough he was bored with the swing. He ran toward the merry-go-round and showed no fear as Clark spun it hard. From there he was climbing the rock wall. He took a turn on the seesaw with Clark, then he was off to climb the monkey bars. When he tired of that, he spotted the pond off in the distance. His quick moving feet made short work of the distance between him and the water. Clark caught him right before he jumped in.

“Whoa!” He grabbed Collin by his arm and lifted him around. “It’s a little too cool to get in the water. Besides, you really don’t want to swim in that dirty water.” He set him back on his feet. “No,” he told him firmly and pointed at the pond.

Collin glanced at the water, then back at Clark. His eyes drifted off as he saw a goose. “Duck!” he yelled and pointed.

“No, son, that’s a goose.”

“Doose!” He was after the poor bird before Clark could stop him. He even managed to pull a feather from its tail causing the animal to turn and peck at him. The boy’s shriek pierced the air and he held his little hand against his chest.

“Did he get you?” Clark knelt and reached out to grasp his hand so that he could inspect the damage. Fortunately there was only a red mark. “It didn’t break the skin. I think you’ll live.” He pulled the hand up and kissed the bruised skin.

“Boo boo,” Collin said as he inspected his hand.

“No, no boo boo. It’s red, but it’ll be okay.”

“Tis it.” He shoved his hand back toward Clark’s face.

Clark kissed it again, then smiled. “Is that better?”

“Yep.” He smiled back then set off in search of something else to do.

Amazing, Clark thought as he chased after the little boy. He was discovering everything for the first time and Clark was enjoying discovering it with him. It was also amazing how caring for a child could completely transform your perspective. He might not have asked to care for two children he didn’t even know, but he was completely rewarded by doing it. As he watched Collin, he decided that the dark haired little boy was going to change his life completely- that boy and his sister.

***

The items on the desk flew across the room as the man swiped his hand over the surface. If he read one more article…

“Can you believe the audacity of those people?” he asked Nigel as he came into the room.

“Yes, sir. Quite.” The older man couldn’t understand why Lex was so angry. That brat was out of their hair. Good riddance, he thought as he remembered the days of listening to the awful screaming. Not to mention the smells and that revolting food they constantly spit all over the place.

“That’s *my* son!”

“Maybe I should remind you that he’s no one’s son.” Nigel felt he should point out that the child was not even human. He was an it, a thing Lex had commissioned Paul Lang to create.

Lex heaved to catch his breath as he stared at Nigel. “Who do you think you are? No one speaks to me that way!”

“My apologies, sir. I just don’t think we should lose perspective here. The objective would be lost.”

“What objective, Nigel? Without the boy we have nothing.”

“I beg to differ. You have billions of dollars and a new life.” He shrugged. “Of course, you could always just create another one.”

“You know, Nigel, sometimes you just…” He stopped his rant and stared at the other man. “… have a pretty good idea.” An evil smile had spread across his face and he turned to dig through a drawer on his desk. “Is there any word on our dear doctor?”

“Not yet. It seems he was working for Church.”

Lex’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Lane told police that he and Lang had been working for Church. They were trying to perfect the drugs you had Lang start developing.”

“Do you know if they succeeded?”

“They made it to the testing stage. If it’s any consolation, Church is fit to be tied. Lang’s disappeared on him, too.”

Lex pulled out a file and quickly flipped through it. “Let me look over a few things and you make some calls for me. By next week we’ll be on our way to the city. With any luck, we’ll also have little Xavier back where he belongs.”

“She changed his name,” Nigel pointed out.

“His name is Xavier!” He leaned over and scribbled several numbers. “Call these people and see how they feel about LexCorp.”

“Right away, sir.” Nigel took the paper and headed out of the room.

Lex sat down and smiled as he thought about reclaiming his position at the top of the world.

***

Clark landed outside his parents’ house just before midnight. Collin had fallen asleep a little quicker tonight, thanks to the trip to the park that afternoon. The boy had run until his little legs could barely move any longer. They’d grabbed take-out and watched a cartoon while they ate. After his bath, Collin danced in front of the television for a while. The toddler kept rubbing his eyes, clearly very tired. But just as the night before, he fought the pull to sleep. When he was finally out, Clark changed into his suit and tucked the boy under his cape before flying out to Kansas. He would have kept him longer, but he just couldn’t wait to see the twins together.

Martha was waiting in the kitchen when he went in. “Oh, look at him,” she said when Clark pulled the edge of the cape away. She reached to take the boy.

“I’ll go get his things real quick.”

Martha barely knew he was gone before he was back. He spun back into his regular clothes and stepped closer to his mother. She was staring down at the sleeping baby, a wide smile on her face.

“Did Dad get his bed ready?”

“Yes. It’s in the room with Perry.” She smoothed her hand over his angelic face. “His hair is so long.”

“We can get it cut when he gets settled in. Do you want me to carry him up to bed?”

“I can do it.” They walked together up to the room that was once Clark’s. Another crib had been added to the room, arranged alongside the other so the two babies could see one another when they woke. It would give them a chance to study one another. Martha gently placed the baby boy in his bed and tucked the cover around him. “Sound sleeper,” she commented.

“Hardly,” Clark answered as he set the bags he had near the closet. “Last night was awful. He cried and fought until he was worn out. He didn’t cry tonight, but he wouldn’t be still until he simply passed out from exhaustion.”

“Oh, this poor baby,” his mother crooned as she looked down at Collin. “He must be so confused and terrified.”

“I’ll stay with you guys at night as long as you need me to,” Clark told her as he walked up her and put arm around her. “I hate placing all of this on you guys.”

“Are you kidding? Jonathan and I are having the time of our lives. Clark, we’ve always wanted a house full of kids.”

“Surely not at retirement age, Mom.” He guided her toward the door. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up Collin.

“So we’ll have a house full of grandkids.”

Clark rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Mom, you know they’re not your grandkids.”

“Not by blood,” Martha said as she pulled away and placed a hand on her bedroom door. “Love’s thicker anyway.”

Before Clark could say anything else, his mom closed herself off in her room. He just shook his head and went back into his old room to make himself a place to sleep on the floor. He wanted to be close in case Collin woke up during the night and was scared.

Thank goodness he could float, Clark thought as he spread out the blanket he’d taken from the closet. The last few days had caught up with him because he was more than ready to lie down. For the first time in a long time, he even managed to let his mind rest as he placed his head on his pillow. Tomorrow was a new day.

***

Collin’s wide eyes moved back and forth frantically as his bottom lip poked out in a pout. He was just about to start screaming when his eyes fell on another pair of brown orbs staring right back at him.

“Baby,” said the little girl clutching the top of her crib and looking at her visitor. Perry wasn’t as shy as her brother. “Hi, baby!” She waved her little hand at him and smiled.

The boy had no idea what to do. He just sat there, staring at her.

“Dadda!” The little girl yelled out and looked down at the man lying on the floor. “Dadda! Baby! See baby!”

Clark slowly rolled over and looked up at Perry. “Hi there, sunshine,” he managed as he struggled to his feet. “How’s my big girl?” He reached in and picked her up, kissing her cheek.

“Baby! See!” Perry leaned toward the other crib, smiling and babbling.

“Yes, sweetie. That’s Collin.” He pulled her up and settled her on his arm. “Hey, big guy.” The boy stared up at him, his lip quivering on the verge of crying. “It’s okay. This is Perry. She’s your sister.”

“Baby,” Perry said again and tried to climb into the crib with Collin.

“Here.” Clark eased her down in front of the boy. She sat for a moment before crawling over on her knees, her hand going up to touch the other baby.

“Hi, baby!”

Collin scooted backwards away from her. “Stop!” He swatted at her, smacking her in the face.

Perry’s smile faded and she primped up. “No!” she yelled at him. “No hit!”

“That’s right, Perry,” Clark said as he leaned over to grasp Collin’s arm. When the boy looked up at him, he shook his finger at him. “No hitting! That’s not very nice.” Immediately the boy began to cry, large tears welling in his eyes. “I know you don’t understand, little man,” Clark said as he picked him up, soothing a hand over his back where he lay against his chest.

Perry stood up and watched her daddy hold the new baby. “Baby cry.”

“Yes, Perry. The baby’s crying. He’s scared.” Clark leaned over and scooped up the other child and sat down on the floor. He situated them so they could look at one another. Collin’s head was lying over on Clark’s shoulder, but after a few minutes he leaned up to look at Perry.

“Baby,” the boy said of Perry.

“That’s right, son. Perry.”

Collin leaned over to touch the girl, the same way she’d done him. “Baby,” he repeated.

She laughed, her teeth shining brightly. “Baby.”

“Collin,” Clark told her again.

Perry looked up at him, then back at her brother. “Baby.”

Clark chuckled softly. “I guess baby will do.” He kissed her head and eased them both to the blanket so he could get up and get the things he needed to change them.

Perry sat wide-eyed as Clark changed Collin. When he pulled her down, the boy stood up and looked around the room. He watched Clark for a second, then turned to walk away, curious about his new surroundings.

“Wait up, big guy,” Clark said as he finished changing Perry at super speed. He held her as he went to grasp Collin’s arm right before the child started down the stairs. There was a gate at the bottom, but they’d never put one at the top. Clark would take care of that later in the day. He allowed the little guy to walk down the stairs as he held his hand. When they stepped into the kitchen, Jonathan looked up from his coffee.

“Hey there!”

“Hi, Papa!” was Perry’s happy response. She struggled for Clark to put her down, then hurried over for her morning hug.

“How’s my sunshine this morning?”

“I happy!” she said.

“Good.” He kissed the top of her head and allowed her to go greet Martha. He looked up at Collin, who still held tight to Clark’s hand. “Hey, Collin. Papa’s glad to see you finally.”

The boy stared at him, but for the first time meeting someone new, he didn’t tell him to stop. He glanced up at Clark, pulled his hand away, then walked over to stand next to Jonathan.

“Do you want a hug, too?” the older man asked him. He didn’t wait for an answer, just lifted him up to sit on the table. “You are one handsome fellow. And so big.” He was taller and more solid than Perry. The boy just sat there staring at him.

“That’s amazing,” Clark said as he watched the exchange. “He usually yells ‘stop’ when he meets a new person.” He sat and took the coffee his mom offered him. She’d put Perry in her highchair and went back to get the toddlers’ breakfast.

Collin reached up to touch Jonathan’s face, offered him a smile, then looked toward Clark. “Cup!”

“We can do that,” Martha said, handing him a full sippy cup.

The boy took it and sucked happily, still eying the man who’d called himself Papa. After a moment, he clutched the cup against his chest so he could speak again. “Eat!”

The adults laughed softly and Jonathan settled him in his lap to feed him. “Is this okay?” he asked the boy. “We’ll have to get another highchair.”

“Are you guys sure it’s okay that he’s here? I can tell Perry…”

“Tell Perry what?” Martha wanted to know as she set food in front of the little girl. “Sorry, we have to turn him away because my folks can’t handle two. Don’t be ridiculous, Clark. He needs us.”

Clark looked over at the baby. He was leaning forward to get another bite; Jonathan couldn’t feed him fast enough. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think I need them both,” he said softly. He looked up when his mom placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on, son?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel… so many things since Perry came into my life. And yesterday, watching Collin discover new things- I felt…” He sighed, unable to describe how he felt. “I just wish their mother would at least see them. You know she told Perry she couldn’t. Said if she saw them and had to let them leave, she didn’t think she could make it through the rest of her time.”

“Clark, that poor girl is probably so mixed up,” Martha observed. “I know I’d be if someone stripped me of my dignity, my identity, and my freedom.”

“I guess so.” Clark glanced over at Perry, then to Collin. “This is just such a weird situation. But I’m grateful to Lois for bringing these guys into my life.”

“So are we, boy. So are we,” Jonathan agreed as Collin reached out to grasp his hand so he could bring the spoon to his mouth. The man chuckled. “I guess I’m not fast enough.”

“More!” Collin said as he looked up at Jonathan.

“Okay. We have plenty.” The man leaned over and touched his nose to the boy’s, causing him to stare like he’d been burned. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Collin reached up to touch his nose. “Nose.”

“That’s right.” He touched Collin’s nose. “Nose.”

Collin struggled around and touched his nose against Jonathan’s. “Lub u,” he said with a wide grin.

The old man’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief. “I love you,” he managed as he smiled back.

“How ‘bout that?” Clark said as he watched the exchange. “Lucy must have done that with him. I plan on talking to her in a few days.”

“That poor girl.” Martha poured more coffee before she sat down to her own breakfast.

“I think I’ll take this big guy out to help me on the tractor today,” Jonathan announced after they’d finished their breakfast.

“You two be careful,” Martha warned him.

“We will.” Jonathan had risen and was headed for the door. He stopped and turned back toward the table. “Tell ‘em bye-bye, Collin.”

“Bye-bye,” the boy said and waved his hand.

“Bye.” Clark was still smiling when they went out. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so worried about him.”

“No. He’s going to be just fine.”

“I wonder why he’s taken up with Dad so quickly.” Clark handed Perry’s cup to her.

“Are you jealous?” his mom wanted to know.

“Mom, no. I’m thrilled he’s so trusting. I was worried about him that first night. I kept thinking ‘what have I done?’ But seeing him with Dad is great.”

She reached over and grasped his hand. “He’ll be more than okay.”

Clark smiled at her. “I know. Look how I turned out.”

Perry began to chant something no one could understand, but she seemed happy enough.

“Oh really?” Clark asked her as he stood and scooped her out of the chair. “How about me and you see what we can get into today?” She grasped his face and planted a solid, sloppy kiss on his lips. “Ah, sunshine, that’s the best thing in the world.”

The little girl’s laughter rang out around the room as Clark tickled her. They drifted outside to enjoy the beautiful day.

***

Three days later Clark was back in the city, knee deep in a story about mistreatment of patients at an assisted living center. He was also eager to get back to his research of Luthor and LexCorp. He’d stayed with his folks to get Collin settled and make sure he had all he needed before he came home. To his amazement, the toddler seemed to be completely at ease on the farm. And by the time dinner was cleaned up that first night, the twins appeared to be friends. The day he left, they watched from the porch, holding hands. He couldn’t be more thrilled.

He’d come back to find notes on this story waiting on him. Perry said it was top priority because his ninety-year-old mother-in-law lived at this particular center.

“Hey, CK, how does Collin like the farm?” Jack wanted to know as he pulled over a chair next to Clark and sat down.

“He loves it. And he’s crazy about my dad.”

“What does he think about Perry?”

“They seem to be the best of friends. He’ll take her hand and lead her around the yard. It’s so cute.” Clark grinned as he thought about them together. “She’s always trying to kiss him.”

“I’m glad they like each other so much.”

“Me, too.”

“But I’ll tell you again. You’re one of a kind.” He clapped the other man’s shoulder. “Now, how about I talked to the medical examiner and he told me a few interesting things? Do you remember the girl found in Suicide Slum I said was Sara?” Clark nodded. “She was the daughter of Judge Carl Beckham. He’s the circuit court judge from Rolland County. Well, he and his wife have filed a lawsuit against Luthor’s estate. They contend that because she was working for Luthor when she died, he was responsible for her safety.”

“What was the cause of death?”

“Head trauma.”

Clark leaned back in his chair. “Really?”

“Yep. It gets better. Luthor’s body was so badly traumatized, the assistant examiner signed off without an autopsy.”

“What?” He sat up straighter, placing his forearms on the desk.

“But…” Jack grinned widely. “The head ME had already ordered tissue and blood samples be taken. I called Mayson and she’s getting a court order for the samples to be turned over to Bernie at S.T.A.R. Labs for analysis.”

“What’s she hoping to find?”

“Anything to help Lois.” Jack stood up, shoving his chair in the general direction it had come from. “I’m off to see what other mysteries I can uncover.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

As interesting as that information had been, he needed to make some headway on his story. He made a couple of calls and left to talk to the director of the center. Luthor and his secrets would just have to wait.

***

Jonathan made a wide turn with the tractor and dropped the blades for the final cut. He’d been mowing all afternoon and he was more than ready to be done. He and his grandkids had plans tonight and he was anxious to get home. As he pulled alongside the edge of the field next to the road he noticed the black SUV sitting in the driveway of the Irigs’ place. He’d seen the truck several times today and wondered if the people inside were lost. Glancing over he noticed that the windows were dark, too dark to see inside. Even the front glass was black. Just as he reached the back side of the field, it hit him what they were doing there.

He reached down and picked up his phone. At this angle, they couldn’t tell what he was doing. He was glad Martha and the kids had gone into to town today to spend time with Maisey and her grandkids. That was probably why the truck was still there.

“Hello?” Martha answered his call.

“Don’t come home,” he said casually. “Stay with Maisey. I’ll have Clark pick you up.”

“What’s wrong?” she wanted to know.

“There’s a strange vehicle here. They’ve been watching the house all afternoon. I just figured out who they could be.”

“They want Collin,” Martha deduced.

“Sit tight.”

“Be careful, Jonathan.”

“I will. I’ll drive over to Wayne’s barn. They didn’t show up until after I’d been plowing a bit. They might not know who I am.”

“Okay. We’ll be here.”

“Okay.” He ended the call, then dialed his son.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” Jonathan hardly ever called him from his cell.

“There’s an SUV watching the farm.”

“Be there in three.”

By the time Jonathan pulled up in Wayne Irig’s barn, Superman landed beside the mysterious truck. They were taken by surprise and before they could pull away, both men were bound and cursing loudly for the interference. Ten minutes later, Sheriff Rachael Harris found the men lying on top of the hood of their truck. Jonathan walked across the road as she pushed one of the men into the back of her police cruiser.

“What’s going on, Jonathan? I got a call from Superman saying these men were trespassing.” Rachael smiled at the older man. “I wish he’d stuck around. I’d love to meet him.”

“I wonder why he was all the way out here,” Jonathan speculated.

“Me, too.”

“Those two have been watching the place all afternoon. Reminded me of thieves casing a target.”

Rachael glanced at the angry men in back of her car. “Yeah, well, we’ll find out what’s going on. I’ll see how many charges we can stick ‘em with so they’ll want to rethink watching anybody again.”

“We appreciate it, Rachael.”

“No problem, Jonathan. That’s what neighbors are for. I’ll send a truck out for their vehicle in a bit.”

Jonathan nodded and watched her pull away. Clark was waiting on the back porch when he made it to the house. “They’re off to county lock-up.”

“Good. I’ll call Rachael tomorrow and see what’s going on. And I’ll call Henderson to see about getting you an agent out here to keep an eye on things.”

“I normally wouldn’t want something like that, but I might not be able to stop anybody from taking Collin by myself.”

“Should I take them back to the city with me?”

“No.” Jonathan reached over to squeeze Clark’s shoulder. “The alarm system is working and Betsy is dead on.” Betsy was Jonathan’s shotgun.

“Just call if you need anything.”

“I will, and I did.” He smiled at his son. “I’ll let Martha know she and the kids can come home. Want to stay for supper?”

“I wish I could, but I’m close to cracking a case Perry has me on. I’ll check on you tomorrow if I’m able to get away.”

“We know you will.

“Give the kids a hug for me.” Clark floated up off the porch.

“I will.” Jonathan watched as Clark disappeared in a flash. He hated to have to have a guard on the place, although he felt it was best to have someone help keep Collin safe. Worst case scenario, they’d take the kids to the city and stay with Clark. None of them could do this alone and he’d be darned if anyone was going take his grandson away.

***

Clark had just finished his piece on the assisted living community when the elevator dinged and Henderson came down the ramp. He stood and waited for the man to reach him.

“Let’s go to the conference room, Clark,” Bill said immediately.

“Should I grab Perry?”

“Yeah.” Bill headed to the other room while Clark pecked on Perry’s window and motioned for him to follow him. They went in with the inspector to see what kind of news he had for them. Clark had contacted him the day before about the visitors to his parents’ farm. “The two goons are known associates of the Delconto Organization.”

“Delconto?” Clark asked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that.

“Apparently the group put a hit out on Luthor right before he died. We’re told the order came straight from the top.”

“Luckaby?”

Bill looked at Clark and shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, Kent, but Luckaby’s a puppet. He truly is oblivious to everything that’s going on. He does what he’s told to do, draws a fat pay check, and sips fruity drinks on the beach during his down time. If brains were dynamite, I don’t think the kid would have enough to blow his nose.”

Perry let out a snort of laughter. He had a staff member like that. Ralph was still around for the comic relief offered. “If Luckaby’s just a puppet, who in hell is the head of that monster shop?”

“We have no idea. Honestly, before we learned of the hit on Luthor, we thought maybe he was.”

“We suspect he was the syndicate head known as the ‘Boss’,” Clark told him.

“Yeah, we’ve thought that for some time. We just never could get anybody to flip on him.”

“Never could? Does that mean somebody’s talking now?” Perry asked him.

“A small time drug pusher says he was running coke in the District on order from Nigel himself.”

“I’ll be an Elvis record collector.”

Clark chuckled at Perry’s latest Elvis analogy. He could sure come up with some good ones. “That’s not nearly enough to do anything serious, is it?”

“Unfortunately, no. We need to find out who all the players are. The what, why, how, and anything else that can stick. We need to bury Luthor so deep in his own muck, that Lois will look like an angel for pushing him off that balcony.”

Perry made a face at that. “You believe she pushed him?”

“Well…” Bill pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m not really sure if I believe it or not. At first I thought maybe she was just ripped from whatever Luthor was force-feeding her. I know she said she’d stopped ingesting his tonic, but I thought he’d managed to get something else in her another way. Her blood tests when she was locked up came back clean. She insisted that Luthor choked her until she passed out.”

“Didn’t I read a report that supported that claim?” Clark asked, pulling another chair out.

“The county physician said it was a distinct possibility that she was choked. Small vessels around her eyes were broken, which suggests that she was deprived of oxygen.”

“It still wasn’t enough to counter the eye-witness testimony of St. John,” Perry spoke up.

“No. St. John was one of Her Majesty’s top agents, and since he’s been in the US he’s clean as a whistle, so…”

“His testimony would have held clout.” Perry leaned back in the chair he’d taken so he could study the other man.

“I hate to say it, but yeah.”

“Okay, so let’s get back to why Delconto had men at the farm,” Clark said. He’d been thinking about that for a moment and it was suddenly a very scary thought. That organization was a heck of a lot more dangerous than anything Luthor could have created.

“We asked if they were there for the kid. They assure us they have no interest in the boy. They were waiting on Luthor’s group to make their move.”

“So the bad guys were going to snatch the other bad guys?” Perry wanted to know.

“Yep. If Luthor couldn’t be taken down, they were going to rip into his estate to see what they could use.”

“And you believe them?” Clark asked.

“Yes and no. I do believe they wouldn’t harm Collin. The thing about that group is that if you’re the target, *you* are the target. They have never made it a practice to… break your son’s legs because you couldn’t live up to your end of a bargain. They’d… wipe out the kid’s inheritance, but wouldn’t touch him.”

“Strange group,” Perry said.

“And as deadly as they come,” Bill put in. “I’ve called in a few favors and two guys should be all set up on the farm with your folks and the kids, Clark.”

“Good.”

“But we’ve got to kick this investigation into high gear. I’ll only be able to keep them there for three or four months, tops.”

The men looked up when Jack knocked on the glass. “Clark, you’ve got a call from Bernie Klein on line two,” he said as he stuck his head inside.

“Take it in here,” Perry told him.

Clark went over to the phone in the corner. “Clark Kent.”

“Mr. Kent, this is Bernie Klein. I was asked by Ms. Drake to compare a few samples.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Clark replied with a quirked brow. Mayson hadn’t said anything about work Bernie was doing for her or that it had anything to do with him.

“One of the samples was blood taken from your custodial son.”

“Collin? Mayson wanted you to analyze Collin’s blood?”

“Yes,” Bernie answered. “She wanted to make sure there were no drugs in his system. You know, like the ones I identified from that sample Jack brought me.”

Clark had wondered if they’d been feeding Collin drugs, but he just seemed to be as normal as the next kid. Now his heart sank. If Bernie was involved… “Collin?”

“No, no. His blood was clean. No drugs of any kind.”

Clark let go a huge sigh of relief.

“There’s just something else, something I hadn’t expected.”

“What? Is there something wrong with him?”

“No, he’s healthy and growing normally. But, Mr. Kent, I think you and Ms. Drake should come hear this in person.”

A million things ran through his mind. What could possibly be wrong? Why did Bernie feel it warranted a personal visit?

“Mr. Kent, can you come today?”

“Ah, yes, Dr. Klein. I’ll contact Mayson and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

Staring at the handset once he’d replaced it, Clark couldn’t begin to imagine what else could be wrong? Well, Bernie did say Collin was healthy. So what could he have found?

“CK? What’s wrong?” Jack asked him.

“Dr. Klein did a little analysis for Mayson and he’s found something.”

“What?” Perry wanted to know.

“He didn’t say. He wants to see me and Mayson in person. Are we done here, Bill?”

“Yeah. Perry and I can talk a bit of strategy without you.”

He nodded and left the room, stopping at his desk long enough to call Mayson. By the time he reached S.T.A.R. Labs, he was nervous. What if there really was something wrong with Collin? He’d flown to the lab in his suit and landed in an alley a block over to change. When he reached the front entrance, Mayson was waiting.

“You’re getting as quick as I am,” he told her as he reached her side.

“I was in the area when you called me.” She didn’t break stride on their way toward the building. “Bernie didn’t say what this was about?”

“Just that he found something he hadn’t expected.” Clark held the door for her. They were given passes and beeped right in when they gave their names to the lady at the desk.

Bernie looked up when they entered his lab. “Oh, I’m glad you two could make it so quickly.” He motioned them closer as he picked up a paper lying in front of him. “I’ve studied Collin’s sample over and over. No drugs, as I said on the phone. In fact, his immune system is one of the healthiest I’ve ever seen. His DNA is quite remarkable. The…”

“Dr. Klein,” Clark interrupted him. He’d worked with Bernie on a couple of cases and knew the man’s tendency to go off on tangents.

“Yes, yes. Well, I compared his DNA to Ms. Lane’s, just like you wanted me to do, Ms. Drake.”

Clark glanced at her, but didn’t say anything.

“He’s definitely Lois Lane’s son.” He walked over to an x-ray reader and poked two slides from a nearby table onto the board. He clicked the light on and pointed to short lines. “This is Collin’s profile. You can see here…” He indicated an area with his finger. “…this part of the profile is a perfect match to his mother.” He pointed toward an almost identical area on the other film.

“Excuse me for asking, but why would you check to make sure he was really Lois’ son?” Clark didn’t understand that reasoning.

“Ms. Drake wanted to be absolutely certain we had the right child.”

“I don’t trust Luthor’s cronies,” she told him.

He indicated understanding with a nod of his head.

“We also wanted to make sure neither profile had been compromised by any of the drugs.”

Clark could understand that. “So what did you find that you didn’t expect?”

Bernie scratched his head, an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you sure that file you sent me was on Lex Luthor?” he asked Mayson.

“I’m positive. Lex was accidentally stabbed during a fencing exhibition. I know the physician who treated him at Mercy. He took the blood samples personally.”

“Then we have a couple of serious situations.” Bernie put another slide up on the light board. “This is Luthor’s profile.”

Clark looked at it a moment before he stepped closer. “They don’t match,” he finally said softly.

“No, Mr. Kent, they don’t. This is the sample that should be shared between father and child.” He pointed to an area with his finger. “As you can clearly see…” He pulled the film of Collin’s profile down and overlapped it on top of Luthor’s. “They don’t match.”

“I’ll be damned,” Mayson said aloud.

Bernie turned and smiled. “I’m not done.” He walked over to the table and opened another file. “According to the only samples taken by Rich Laughlin, the known Luthor sample does not match those of the man who’s buried under that tombstone in the Gardens.”

Both Clark and Mayson gasped aloud. “What?” they said in unison.

“The sample Rich took from Luthor’s body does not match the one taken at the hospital when Luthor was injured. Either one of the samples is the wrong one or…”

“Luthor’s not dead,” Clark said as he looked at Mayson.

“That son of a…”

“But we have to find him. We can’t prove a thing without him.”

Mayson nodded at Clark. “Unfortunately. The prosecutor would argue that the samples were mixed up. Blah, blah. But this is great work, Bernie.”

“Can I get a copy of the report?” Clark asked the doctor.

“Oh sure. I have one for each of you.” He dug out a file and handed it over.

“Thanks again, Bernie,” Mayson said just before they headed out the door. “Poor Lois,” she said as she handed over her badge at the front desk.

“Yeah. She might actually be thrilled to know she didn’t have that monster’s children.”

“I just wonder whose children she did have,” Mayson said as they made their way toward her car. “Let me give you a lift back to the Planet.”

“Sure.” He climbed in and read over the file as they made their way across town. “I wonder who the mysterious father is. And how did she get pregnant and think it was Luthor’s?” He shivered involuntarily at that thought.

“Makes you wonder what all that maniac did to her.”

“Hey, Bernie’s report says that the longer she’s off the drugs, the more she’ll remember while under their influence. If that’s true, she might be able to tell you herself one day.”

“If she will, Clark, you forget that she’s a tough nut to crack. She’d closed in on herself and acts like she doesn’t want to help herself at all.”

Clark held up the file. “Maybe this will change her mind.”

“Let’s hope so. I’ll see if we can get in to see her tomorrow. Do you want to go with me?”

“Yes. Maybe she’ll open up if I bribe her a bit.” He waggled his brows and grinned.

“You’re so full of it.” Mayson smacked his leg as she maneuvered her car into the garage below the Planet.

“Perry’s gonna have a stroke when he finds this out.” Clark climbed from the car after they’d parked and waited for Mayson to come around. They made their way upstairs and promptly stunned the other men with their news.

***

Stepping down off the plane onto the tarmac, Lex took a deep breath. “There’s nothing like the smell of Metropolis,” he commented as he looked around. It was so good to be back.

“Welcome to Metropolis, Mr. Harris,” a man told him as he reached out to take the bags an airport crew member had set on the concrete.

“Yes.” Lex, or David Harris as he was known as now, climbed into the back of the waiting limo. He’d come to reclaim everything that was rightfully his. To hell with everything else.

The car was in motion and out on to the main road before David tore his eyes from the passing scenery to look at the tall, dark-haired man across from him. Nigel had nearly died when he’d had to die his gray hair black. Shaving his goatee had been battle as well. But these were all things that couldn’t be helped. David had to wear a blonde wig, of all things. And grow a mustache. How hideous!

No matter. If it got him what he wanted, he’d wear a paper sack over his head.

“Any news on the doctor?”

Nigel looked up at him. “We should be hearing something any time now,” he replied with an evil leer.

“And the boy?”

“Guarded twenty-four hours a day by two of Henderson’s men. We have to be careful how we tread, too. Delconto had men in Kansas.”

“What?”

“Apparently he still wants a piece of the pie.”

“Is he planning to take the boy?”

“I’m told he just wants his money.”

David took a cigar out and lit it. “Send him a peace offering from Harris International. See if he’d be interested in forming an alliance against LexCorp.”

Nigel smiled evilly. “How… twisted.”

“Well, it’s mine. I should have it. I formed that company and I can tear it apart.” He drew from his cigar again. “What do you say we have a bit of fun?”

“I’ll set something up at once.” Nigel pulled out his phone and dialed.

David took another satisfying draw from his stogy. Yes, fun was what he needed. He’d been shut away much too long.

***

Jack and Jimmy were both set up in the conference room sifting through the mounds of files they had on the Luthor investigation. Clark was off to make copies of something or other while Perry had gone home early to take his wife to dinner. The team had been working nonstop for the last few days to find anything they could, but so far had been unsuccessful.

“Hey, CK, are you having the birthday party for the twins at your place?” Jack asked when the other man entered the room again. Collin and Perry’s second birthday was only a week away.

“Yep. My folks will be here Friday night. Believe or not, they’re driving out. Thought it would be a *good* trip for the kids.” Clark chuckled as he sat down.

“What about the guards Henderson sent out?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“Poor guys have to follow them all the way to the city.” He shook his head. “I really hate they need protection at all.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Jack spoke up.

“Guess so.” Clark went back to perusing some paperwork, but was interrupted just minutes later when Bill Henderson came in. “Hey, Bill, what brings you here this time of night?”

“Clark,” he indicated with a nod of his head. “Guys,” he said to the other two. “We found Marge Lang dead tonight. Her sister called from Cincinnati. Said she hadn’t heard from Marge in three days and insisted we go check it out. She’s been dead for at least a day.”

“How?” Clark asked in stunned disbelief.

“Overdose. We won’t know for a week or two exactly what.”

“And Paul?”

“MIA. Seems he’s been missing for a while. Marge told her sister he was working on a top secret project that was going to make them a fortune.”

“No clue what it was?” Jimmy asked him.

“No. We did find something interesting. Apparently Paul had a private lab on his property. We’re seeking a search warrant now.”

“Why the warrant? Isn’t it a crime scene?” Jack threw in.

“If the lab had been within the same building we wouldn’t have to get a warrant.” Bill turned toward the door. “You know, you need to consider a career with the force, Jack. You’d make one heck of a detective.”

“Yeah, well, if I can’t make a go of this journalism stuff, I’ll think about it.” Jack gave him a grin, one that told him there was no way he’d ever consider joining the police force, and Bill smiled back, knowing there was no way a former thief would ever see the legal side of a badge.

“I’ll let you know if that warrant comes through.” Bill waved and he was gone.

“This just gets more interesting by the day,” Jimmy put in.

“I totally agree,” Clark said as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. Lana would be devastated. She adored her mother. Lana was also on a space station and not due to get back for another year.

“You okay, CK?” Jack wanted to know.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He sat back up and shifted through a few papers. What were they missing? They’d been combing through countless information and weren’t a bit closer to proving Luthor was still alive. It was as if the man had disappeared off the face of the planet.

***

Lois was angry again. This Drake woman just didn’t give up. The guard had come and demanded she go meet with her lawyer… again. It looked like she’d have to blow her stack to get the woman off her back. She’d signed her life sentence. This prison was where she’d be for the next decade, minus a year.

When she stepped inside the interview room, Mayson was not alone. Clark was with her. Had she given permission for him to come here?

“Hi,” he said and stood up.

“What do you want?” Lois asked them both and stood near the door.

“Some information has come to our attention that we think you should know,” Mayson told her. “Please come sit down.”

“Just spit it out.” She intentionally kept her eyes on Drake. Clark’s expression was just too raw for her taste. And he was still standing, staring at her.

“We have reason to believe Lex is still alive,” Mayson told her. If Lois wanted blunt, that was what she’d get.

That made Lois blink. She relaxed her defensive stance just a bit and slowly moved toward the table. “What?”

“I asked Bernard Klein to run some blood tests for me and the man who fell from Lex Towers was not Lex Luthor.”

Lois grasped the back of the chair and looked away. That… that… bastard! “He set me up.”

“It looks that way.” Mayson pulled out the report of the test results and pushed them across the table.

With a shaking hand, Lois picked up the sheet and read it carefully. Finally she sat down, noticing that Clark did, too. “Of course, you’ll have to prove this beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

“Yeah. I’m waiting for the court order now to exhume the body. If our examiner can prove it’s not Luthor…”

“Won’t I still be here for killing whoever it is?” Lois interrupted Mayson.

“Not if the exam can prove that the poor fellow died of something other than trauma from the fall.”

“That would have to be one hell of an examiner. Wasn’t the trauma pretty extensive?”

“Why don’t you let us worry about that?” Mayson said and pulled another file from her briefcase. “We do have something else we need to tell you.”

Lois cut her eyes at Clark, who had been watching her since she came in. “What?” she demanded, stabbing him with a fierce glare. “Do I have a growth or something on my head you find interesting?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how you do it,” he answered, not the least bit affected by her outburst.

“Do what?”

“Sit there and not even ask. How you’ve been here this whole time and not once asked about them.”

“Not asking keeps me sane,” she shot at him.

He leaned forward, staring at her as intensely as she was him. “I get that. I really do, but at the same time the not knowing would drive me insane. You gave your son to a perfect stranger and you don’t even want to know if I mistreat him. For all you know, I could have been some kind of pervert who gets his jollies from little boys. Or girls for that matter. You do know I’ve got her, too? I’ve had her from the beginning.”

“I think this meeting is over,” Lois said as she pushed herself to her feet and turned to leave.

“They’re not Luthor’s,” Clark told her as he stood up again. That made Lois freeze halfway to the door. “Bernie found out.”

“Are they mine?” she asked without turning around.

“Yes.”

“Why would you ask that?” Mayson spoke up.

“I remember things.” She returned to her chair and stared at the top of the table. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clark ease back to his seat. “I was inseminated.”

“What?” Mayson was the one to lean closer now.

“The night I conceived, Lex drugged me. The next morning I just thought I’d drank too much champagne and well…” She waved her hand to indicate what she couldn’t say.

“And now you remember you were inseminated?” Mayson jotted something on a piece of paper.

“Yeah. The same doctor that oversaw the delivery of the twins did it. He and Lex kept talking about the whole thing being an experiment. I guess I know now that it was.” She glanced away, trying to stave the tears in her eyes. “Do you know who the donor was?”

“No,” Mayson answered regretfully. “All things considered, I feel pretty sure the sample wasn’t a donation.”

Her eyes snapped back to Mayson’s. “Oh, great! Lex snatched part of some other schmuck’s life away from him, too.” She laughed dryly. “Won’t we be a pair?”

“Lois, we might never find out who the father is,” Mayson let her know.

“Yeah.” Lois tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at a spot on the wall. Clark was glaring at her and it unnerved her to no end. He was right. She should ask, but she just couldn’t.

“They’ll be two next week,” he offered.

“Yeah,” was all she said.

He opened a file he’d brought with him and pulled out a picture, pushing it across the table in front of her. “They look good together.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to study the wall. She couldn’t look.

“Why don’t you want to help yourself?” he wanted to know. “Fight him. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“What will it get me?” she asked as her eyes snapped back to his.

“It might get you out of here. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to get back to these guys?” He shook the picture at her. “Lois, they’re wonderful people, being raised by a man who seems to love them more than their own mother does.”

She shot to her feet, glaring at him. “I love my babies! Don’t you ever assume I don’t. But you’re not in this place. You don’t know what it does to your mind. To a mind, I might add, that was already sloshed by whatever that psycho did to me. Most days I wish I had been the one to fall off that balcony.” She reached down and snatched up the picture. “Knowing I might see them again is the only thing that keeps me going.”

Clark stared right back at her, almost smiling when she glanced down at the image.

“Oh, God!” she gasped as her eyes went back to the picture of her twins. “They’re…” She sat back down, unable now to look away.

“They like riding on the tractor and watermelon. Watermelon is better than cake,” he said with a half chuckle. “I taught them how to swim two days ago. He’s a little bigger and extremely protective of Perry. She calls him Baby. They’re getting matching bicycles for their birthday. Mom’s teaching them their alphabet. Collin’s learning to milk the cow.” He smiled and held his hands up. “His hands are barely big enough, but he won’t stop trying. I’m told he gets his determination from you.”

She finally lifted her eyes to his. “I just can’t see them in here,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly.

“They look… happy… healthy.”

“They are. Perry’s potty trained and Collin’s just about there. He’s caught up quickly since we got him.”

“Lucy? Did she say anything?”

“She’s not lucid enough to tell us much right now. All the drugs, all the stress… she just finally broke.” Clark shifted in his seat. “Your father was the one to find them.”

“He was working for Lex,” Lois said as she let her eyes fall back to the picture.

“Unfortunately, he’ll have to spend a bit of time in jail, too, for some of the unethical things he’s done,” Mayson told her. “He’s agreed to help us as much as he can though.”

She nodded, then looked back up. Her eyes swept across the file Clark had open in front of him and she saw another picture. She reached for it without asking. “This is the doctor,” she said of the man in the photo.

“Paul Lang,” Clark told her. “We believe Luthor’s trying to find him because his wife was found dead.” He leaned forward, placing his arms on the table. “Do you remember anything else that happened to you?”

“Mostly I was kept… nice and calm. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. The drugs drained the life out of me. I just didn’t care. When they learned I’d conceived, I was kept locked away. The drugs changed, enough not to hurt the baby. They didn’t know I was having twins until they were born.”

“Perry didn’t have a birth certificate.”

Lois looked at Clark. “I thought not. She was never allowed out of the penthouse. The doctor always saw her there.”

“Lang?” Mayson wanted to know.

“Yes. He was the only one Lex let near them. They made reference to them living to see six months old. It was vital to them both. There was also something said about their fifth birthday.” Her eyes met Clark’s. “What’s wrong with my babies?”

Clark’s heart broke. She looked as if she was about to cry again. For some reason seeing her so distressed was awful. He couldn’t explain what he felt, but knew he’d definitely never felt quite like this before. “There’s nothing wrong with them,” he assured her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said with a half-smile. “Bernie’s run countless tests on Collin and Doc Brown back home says Perry is as healthy as a horse.”

“No crazy blood disorders or funky, incurable diseases?”

“No.”

Her eyes went back to the four on the paper. She missed them so much. Of course, she’d never really known them through her drug-induced haze. How would she ever catch up if she got out of this place? Some days she felt it would be best if Lex had just killed her.

“Lois, Perry told me about something Jack found on your computer.” Lois looked up at Mayson. “Your mother… she was a Delconto?”

“As in the daughter of the most notorious crime boss in the world,” Lois told her. “I found that out by accident when I was investigating a gun smuggling ring in the Congo. I asked my father about it and he refused to tell me anything. I do know we spent summers in Spain until I was ten. I was told my grandfather had died and that was that. We didn’t go to the service and mother never mentioned him again.”

“I’ve tried to find out more information about her birth and why she changed her name, but I keep hitting a brick wall,” Mayson said. “I plan on questioning Sam about it.”

“Ask the bastard if he knows who fathered my children,” Lois spat.

“We’re doing all we can to get you out of here,” Mayson wanted her to know.

“I know you want to help, and I know you’ll do all you can, but if Lex Luthor wanted me here, here is where I’ll stay.” She looked over at Clark. “I have no idea why you agreed to do what you’ve done… Why would a man take on the care of two kids that belong to a woman he doesn’t even know? I’ve asked myself over and over again if you’re for real.” She reached down to lift the photo. “All I know is you’re keeping my babies away from whatever evils Lex had planned for them.” Looking at the image again, tears filled her eyes. “What do they call you?”

If he thought he felt bad earlier, he really felt awful now. She must be so mixed up. He glanced away, unable to stand watching the despair in her features any longer. “Lois…”

“It’s okay. I think you’ve earned that title.” She smiled at him and an understanding seemed to pass between them. Her eyes drifted over to Mayson. “Does it bother you that he’s caring for two toddlers that aren’t his?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“I think I’d be a little pissed if my boyfriend was doing what he’s doing.”

Mayson grinned and glanced at Clark. “We stopped seeing each other like that a while ago.”

Her eyes widened and she looked distressed. “Please don’t tell me you two split up because of…”

“No, no, no,” Clark assured her quickly. He looked over at Mayson. “I think we were always better suited to be friends.”

Lois studied them both for a moment, until she was satisfied their break-up didn’t have anything to do with her or her kids. “I’m gonna keep this,” she told Clark and held up the photo.

“I brought it for you,” he told her. “And when I send pictures of their birthday party, don’t send them back.”

She stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table. “See ya’, Clark Kent.” With a sad smile, she turned and left.

Mayson stuffed her files into her briefcase and rose from the table. “I can’t imagine what she feels.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed as he took up his file and followed Mayson from the room.

“What are you going to do when we get her out of here?”

Clark looked at Mayson with questioning eyes. “What?”

“Clark, I’ve seen you with those babies. How are you going to give them back to their mother?”

He stuffed his free hand into his pocket and walked in silence, his mind whirling. He’d thought a lot about what he’d do when Lois was able to come for her kids. Truth was he didn’t know how he’d handle it. While Collin hadn’t been with him as long as Perry had, he meant just as much to him. He loved those babies. Giving them up was unthinkable. “Maybe we should get her out first,” he answered evasively.

Mayson understood completely. She would feel the same way he did. And knowing Clark and his big heart, he didn’t want to have to think about parting with those little people. But he was right. They needed to get Lois out of prison first.

***

Paul Lang was either incredibly naive or an idiot. He had kept meticulous records. Every detail of how he created various mind control drugs for Lex Luthor was spelled out. He’d indeed continued Carl Mambo’s research and had extended it to include some of his own, and there were details of an apparent in vitro fertilization procedure. Clark had discovered another side to the man he thought he knew.

Henderson had gotten the search warrant for Lang’s private lab and seized tons of incriminating evidence into the various illegal activities of both the doctor and the elusive Lex Luthor. Bill had taken copies of what they’d found to the Planet and turned it over to Perry and his boys. Of course, it was done with the understanding that they had no clue where it had all come from.

Jack patiently sifted through some of the information they’d found in Lang’s lab. He just couldn’t believe the sheer amount.

“You know, he was smart enough not to ever use actual names,” Jack stated.

“Yeah. The most minute detail… except for that.” Clark scribbled a few notes into his notepad, then grabbed up another piece of paper.

The silence in the conference room was interrupted by a messenger. He delivered a book to Clark from Detective Henderson.

“What is it?” Jack asked peering across the table.

“Looks like a journal. The note from Henderson says it’s Paul Lang’s. They found it in a safe deposit box at his house.” Clark opened it slowly. It soon became clear that this was more than he could have asked for. He looked up at Jack. “This is what we needed. It says Luthor came to him in ‘86. That happened to be a good thing because Paul had accumulated several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of debt to the wrong people. He cut a deal with Luthor to keep from losing any body parts.” Clark paused and read a few more pages.

“Lang started doing various things for Luthor. Seems the mind-control drugs have been used by Luthor for years. Lang states that Luthor’s ultimate goal was to see if he could make a person think that they were someone else entirely.” Clark flipped a few more pages. Jack noticed he stopped, staring at the pages in shock.

“CK? What is it?”

“Lois was the first guinea pig for the new drugs for total mind control. It started out as a test, but Luthor became obsessed with her. He married her because he had to, although Paul didn’t know exactly why.”

“Man. Poor Lois.”

“Yeah.” Clark read a couple more pages before his wide eyes met Jack’s again. “She was also a guinea pig for another reason. Luthor *needed* to have a son. But get his, he was infertile.”

“What?”

“Yep. He paid Paul to get Lois pregnant.” He read on. “I know the connection to Mambo now.” He looked up at Jack. “The twins were supposed to be clones.”

“Clones?” Jack snorted. “Don’t tell me that quack actually thought he could create human clones.”

“Not only that, he convinced Luthor he had discovered a way for a woman to conceive a cloned embryo.”

“Please tell me Collin and Perry are not clones.”

“No. Remember the in vitro research from his lab?” Jack nodded. “It seems Lois was the mother.”

“And the father?”

“Luthor thought Paul was creating a clone child. Paul, however, states here that the possibility of a clone living more than five years was highly unlikely.”

“The five-year mark Lois mentioned,” Jack observed.

Clark nodded. “Paul took a sample from one of his clients and with Lois’ egg, created the twins.” Clark flipped a page. “He was ecstatic with that little surprise.”

“God, that’s awful. So who’s the father?”

“That’s the strange thing. He almost boasts about his accomplishment, yet never mentions the name of the father. He does say that it’s sweet justice to beat Luthor at his own game.”

“So Collin and Perry were fathered by Joe blow so Luthor could have a son? Explains why he wasn’t crazy about the unexpected girl.”

“He didn’t need her,” Clark pointed out.

“This is too weird.” Jack leaned back in his seat. “What do you tell those kids when they ask about their father one day? No offense, CK.”

“None taken. They *will* ask some day.”

“What else does it say?”

“That Lang sold all his dirty little secrets to Church.” Clark stopped on the last page. “My God! He killed Ellen Lane.”

“What?” Jack sat up straight.

“He was having an affair with her.” Clark’s eyes met Jack’s. “Lucy’s his.”

“Damn!”

“Ellen wanted to end the affair, but his jealousy got the best of him. Apparently he and Sam knew each other in college and competed for Ellen’s attention. When she married Sam and had Lois, Lang married Marge and moved across the country. He buried himself in work and the advances in his research are what caught Luthor’s eye. Lang moved back to Metropolis to work for Lex Labs because the money was too good to pass up and he met up with Ellen again. Two years later, Lucy was born. He wanted Ellen to leave Sam and start a family with him, but Sam threatened to take Lois away from her. She stayed, Paul went crazy, and she was found dead of an apparent heart attack.” Clark read over another page. “He knew she was Delconto’s daughter.” He finally looked up at Jack. “He turned on Lex because Karen Lang was supposed to be Mrs. Luthor.”

“Karen?”

“Paul’s sister. He believes Luthor killed her. She disappeared just months before their wedding and has never been found.”

“What a whacked, twisted son of a gun. Hell, both of them.”

“You can say that again.”

“And Lois was convenient to use?” Jack threw a few papers across his desk.

“Paul liked the irony of Luthor’s choice.”

“Do you think Sam Lane knows any of that?”

Clark shook his head. “I doubt it. Paul kept making references to things happening behind Lane’s back.” He flipped the book onto the table. “I guess we’ll ask him.”

Jack leaned back so he could prop his feet up on the table. “Hell of a way to find out about your wife’s affair and the child you raised.”

“This whole thing is one hell of an affair.”

“You can say that again. I would love to get my hands on Lang and Luthor. Give me five minutes alone with them. Somebody would talk.”

“I know, Jack. I know.” Clark slowly read through the journal again. Of course, to get his hands on Luthor, he had to prove he was alive and find him. That was like finding a needle in a haystack. Sighing heavily, he decided to call it a night. They’d made it about as far as they could today. They’d start fresh again tomorrow.

***

“I think we have a problem, sir,” Nigel told his boss.

“Well, spit it out,” David said as he stared across and up at the building that used to be his. He’d had to settle on living in an apartment next to Lex Towers until he took possession of his prized high rise again.

“Our source in the department tells me that White and his crew have discovered that the man who fell from the penthouse balcony is not you.”

David’s head jerked around and he stared at his assistant. “Damn! How in hell did they discover that? I thought that nitwit signed off on the autopsy.”

“Apparently there were samples taken before the case could be closed.” He stepped over and poured David a drink. “I have also been told that Marge Lang was found dead. It is believed that Paul fed her too many of the research drugs.”

“What is that fool up to?” He took a drink from the glass Nigel had given him. “Still no sign of him?”

“I believe we have finally located him.”

“Let me guess. On a little remote island off the Mexican shore?”

“Actually, I think he’s a guest of Juan Delconto.”

David spit his brandy across the room. “Holy hell! If that man learns of what Paul’s done for me…”

“I am well aware of that, sir.”

Harris slammed his glass down onto the desk, breaking it into several pieces. “We might not have a choice but to snatch that kid. We have to have him to prove my claims. And if I can get him before Delconto, I can use him as a bargaining chip.”

“I’ll send a couple of guys today.”

“Do that.” He walked over to look out of the window again. What had he gotten himself into? More precisely, how did he get himself out of this mess?

***

Clark walked slowly toward his door. He’d left work a while ago to attend a rescue as Superman. He’d decided to get himself a cup of coffee and walk home. It was a gorgeous night and he liked to soak up the sights and sounds of the city whenever he could. He grabbed his mail from the box out front and was reading over a bill when he opened the front door.

“Dadda!”

He looked up to see Perry climbing the stairs toward him. “Sunshine!” He tossed the mail over onto the bookshelf and hugged the little bundle of energy in his arms. He kissed her face several times before he looked up to see his mom in the kitchen and his dad coming in from the bedroom. “Hey, I didn’t know you guys were coming in tonight.”

“I hope it’s okay,” his mom wanted to know.

“More than okay.” He kissed Perry again and set her on her feet. “Where’s Collin?”

“Staring out the window. He likes the window seat,” Jonathan told him.

Clark headed into the bedroom to find the boy kneeling on the seat and peering out the window. “Hey, big guy!”

Collin turned and grinned at him. “Hi, Dadda!”

“Oh wow! You called me Daddy,” Clark said as he picked the boy up and hugged him close. Collin loved to see Clark come for visits and showered him with love every time, but he’d yet to call him daddy. Collin leaned back in Clark’s arms enough so that he could rub his nose against his. “Lub u.”

“Oh, son, I love you, too,” Clark said and kissed his lips. He hadn’t realized just how much until lately. The twins had become a very important part of Clark’s life. They made him feel complete in a way nothing ever had- not even being Superman. He had to put the boy down because the little fellow was ready to go play.

“Dinner will be ready in two,” his mom called.

Clark stepped into the kitchen, loosening his tie as he did. “Is everything okay? You seem…”

Jonathan glanced back to make sure the kids were playing. “We decided to fly out today. There was another strange vehicle at the farm.”

“Where are the guards?”

“One’s out front. The other one will relieve him in a little while.”

“Why didn’t you call me, Dad?” Clark threw his jacket into his bedroom, along with his tie.

“We can’t keep calling you every two seconds, Clark,” his mom spoke up as she set the bread on the table.

“You call me whenever you need to,” he insisted. “I don’t want anything to happen to any of you.”

“They don’t want us,” Jonathan reminded him.

Clark looked over at the little boy digging toys from the box. “Yeah, I know. Hopefully this will all be over with soon. We’ve learned some pretty incredible things over the last few days.”

“Eat, Dadda!” Collin said as he ran across the room and held up his hands to Clark.

“Yeah, big guy,” he told him and lifted him in his arms. It was amazing how comfortable the boy had become in the short time he’d been in Kansas. He was almost as outgoing as Perry now. What would he be like in a few months’ time?

Clark looked at him. Would he be with them in a few months’ time? Would they be able to get Lois out of prison and she take them away? Would some maniac snatch him and hide him away from them again?

“Let’s eat,” Martha told them all as she reached to lift Perry up.

Pushing away his troubled thoughts, Clark settled Collin next to him in his highchair. He received a huge grin and decided that for tonight, he’d just enjoy having his family together.

***

The first thing she was aware of when she came to was that she was definitely not in her cell. The walls were burnt orange and the air was warmer. This was not the prison. She looked around the room, shocked beyond belief when she noticed that through the window she could see water- lots of water. She stood up and stumbled toward the open double doors. Not more than fifty yards in front of her was the brightest white sand she’d ever seen. The surf was crashing and receding on the beach. The sun was shining, the reflection off the sand nearly blinding.

“I see you’re awake.”

She looked through the doors, down the long, wide porch to see an older gentleman sitting at a round table.

“Come join me, dear. I’m sure you’re famished.” He waved a hand at the spread of food in front of him.

Shaking her head, she managed to make it to a chair and drop heavily. She was still groggy as hell, but she was also thirsty. She drank down over half of whatever juice it was in the glass in front of her before she looked up at the man. “Who are you?”

“Oh, Lois, I’m hurt you don’t remember your grandfather.”

Staring at him wide-eyed she realized this was her mother’s father. “Juan?”

“It has been a while. What? Twenty years?” He took a sip from his coffee cup, then smiled at her. “It was never my choice. Ella made the decision to leave.” He set the cup back down. “Changing her name- now that was a bit too much. If she was ashamed of her heritage…”

“Why wouldn’t she be? You lead one of the largest crime syndicates in the world.”

He laughed softly. “Call it what you will. I call it business.” He waved his hand. “It affords me the things I want. This island, this house… Your mother used her share of the money to start a new life.” Juan folded his hands across his lap, gazing at Lois. “I would have come for you sooner…”

“You should have never come for me at all. I was in enough trouble as it was.”

“Oh, please. Lex Luthor isn’t dead.” He shook his finger as he grinned. “Granted, he threw me for a minute.”

“Yeah, he threw me for more than a minute.” She picked over the fruit before deciding on a piece of watermelon.

“I did not even realize you were his wife until the news broke that you were accused of his murder.” He lit a cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. “A friend of his tells me you have also delivered twins.”

“Did that friend tell you they weren’t Lex’s?”

“Oh, yes.” He watched her for several moments before he shifted in his seat. “You didn’t know that until recently, did you?”

“My lawyer had some tests run and found out.”

“Yes, when they found out Lex was alive.”

Lois stared at him. “You probably know everything that’s going on, don’t you?”

“I know enough. Unfortunately, I’ve lost my contact inside S.T.A.R. Labs. But I’m sure not much more can be learned from running blood tests. At least not with Lex’s blood.”

She studied him while she ate for a moment. The longer she was awake, the better she felt. And the clearer her head became. Her instincts weren’t completely gone either. “You know who the father is,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“I know a lot of things,” he said as he puffed on his smoke again.

“Why did you take me?”

“The scientific implications, of course,” he told her as he snuffed out the cigarette. “I wish I could say it was because you’re blood, but…” He grinned and held his hands out widely. “Money and power is greener than blood. Ella made her choices. Those choices cost her gravely. I have other kids. My son will one day take over my empire.”

“According to every major law enforcement agency in the world, the Delconto line died on a plane off the coast of California.”

“Yes. Lex should have taken lessons, shouldn’t he? If you want to die and stay dead, do it right.” He chuckled softly. “And you always, always have to be careful where your fluids are… just in case some wacko or scientist decides to start studying them.” He glanced at the food on the table. “Eat, drink. You’ll be taken care of here. My physician will give you a day or two to settle in before he begins the tests.”

“What tests?” she demanded.

“Standard physical, a few blood tests. We have to make sure there were no adverse effects from your pregnancy.”

“Why would there be?”

“Oh, no, dear. Too soon.” He stood up and a man came out of nowhere to help him. That was when Lois noticed that he could barely move his legs. He moved, with assistance, toward a wheelchair that had been provided by another man. “Until later, my dear.” He waved his hand without looking back and was wheeled away.

Lois looked around, noticing the careful eyes watching her. They weren’t easily seen, unless one was looking for them. She ate for a moment, then stood up and went back to her room. Although comfortably decorated, it was essentially bare as well. A comfortable, overstuffed bed with fine linens. A closet full of nice clothes. A bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and anything she could possibly want for a bath. However, there was nothing she could remotely use to hurt herself or use to get away. No telephones, not even lines. No television, no radio. And as she drifted around the porch, she discovered she was locked away from the rest of the house. Walking out onto the beach, she also learned there was a gate to separate her from the main yard. She could reach the beach area, but even that was cut off from the rest of the shore by large rocks that protruded far enough out into the water to make swimming around them hazardous and possibly deadly. So while she was free to a point, she was just as much a prisoner here as she’d been in Metropolis.

And she wasn’t in Metropolis. She wasn’t even in the states. She could tell from the color of the sea water, the pristine bleached sand on the beach. Where was she? And how in hell did she get out of this?

Sighing heavily, she sank to the sand where she’d ventured out. What now? How long would she live this hell before she was finally able to do the only thing in the world she truly wanted to do?

What were they doing right now? Were they with Clark? Was he holding them? Telling them their mother loved them? Did he rock them to sleep? Did he kiss them? Rub their noses with his own the way she’d done? The way she’d done with Lucy when they were kids?

Clark Kent- what kind of person was he? She’d felt immediately comfortable with him the first time she’d met him. He had trusting eyes. If Perry thought he was a stand-up guy, that was enough for her. He had to be. Perry was the best man she knew and he didn’t make snap judgments. He knew when someone was good and when they weren’t. That was why she should have listened when he told her to get away from Lex.

Lois sighed deeply and looked out across the ocean. Where was her life headed? Would it be shipwrecked indefinitely or would she someday be swept back out to sea? Was she destined to just float along, lost in the ebbs and tides that made the world go round?

Glancing back up at the house behind her, she realized something she hadn’t before. She came from a strong line of people. Granted, that line might be as evil as they came, but still strong, determined, and confident. She came from a line of intelligent people. Her father had once been one of the foremost medical minds in the world. She was good at her chosen profession- before all of this. What she needed to do was pull herself together and find out what the leader of the crime world wanted with her. If she could manage, surely the person and reporter she’d once been could figure out how to get herself out of this mess she’d fallen in.

***

Clark hated to work while his folks and the kids were in town, but a few things needed to get done. He’d gotten up early to get it done so he could spend the day with the twins. He finished up his latest story for the Planet before calling up a program with information on the Luthor investigation. He read through some information before he pulled up an older search.

“Damn! Why didn’t I see that before?”

“See what, CK?” Jack asked as he walked up. Jack came in early most days so that he could cut out early. He’d recently started playing with a band at a little place in the jazz district.

Furiously punching the keys, another program flashed on the screen. “Leslie Luckaby…”

“Luckaby?”

“More precisely, Alexander Luckaby. Jack, what was Lex’s given name?”

“Alexander Xavier Luthor… You don’t think?”

“I do think,” Clark said as he stood up. “He named Collin Xavier Franklin. I need to take a little trip.”

“But Alexander disappeared years ago.” Jack turned and punched a few keys so that he could look at Clark’s files. “Right about the time Lex Luthor made his debut in the business world. Damn!”

“Get me some pictures,” Clark told him as he backed toward the stairs. “If you can find any.”

“Got it.” Jack hurried toward his own computer as Clark disappeared.

A few minutes later, Clark landed in a secluded area in Sydney and hurried into the building that housed the Delconto Organization. Slipping past security and dodging cameras, he made it to the top floor. When he opened the door to the CEO’s office, he almost turned around again.

“What the hell?!” The young man in the plush chair pushed the naked woman up from his lap, grabbing blindly for the robe lying across his desk.

“I’ll just…” The young woman motioned with her hand, then disappeared into the bathroom.

Leslie Luckaby stood up and put on the robe, keeping his eyes on Clark the entire time. “I don’t know who you are…”

“It doesn’t matter. I need to ask you some questions about your father.”

“Alexander?” Clark nodded. “Why do you want to know about him? He went to Ecuador with my grandfather and didn’t come home again. Probably got drunk and a local cut his goods off for messing with his wife.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“There’s one hanging in the lobby.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of the robe. “Look, Mr…”

“You haven’t seen him in the past year?”

“No. I told you…”

“Thank you.” Clark turned and left a stunned man standing in the middle of his office. He made his way back down to the lobby and when he found the portrait of Alexander Luckaby, he could only shake his head in disbelief. “I’ll be damned.” He asked a few questions and within a few minutes, he was sitting down across the table from the attorney in charge of Franklin Luckaby’s estate.

“Look, Mr. Kent, we are not authorized to tell you anything.”

“I beg to differ. As an investigator for the attorney in charge of securing the future of the Luckaby line, I would say that whatever you’re hiding is vital to my young client’s future. If my research is correct, Master Lane is Franklin Luckaby’s grandson. As his grandson he’s entitled to a healthy trust.” Clark didn’t know that for certain, but it was a good guess. Most wealthy people set up trusts for children and grandchildren.

The attorney looked a little uneasy. Finally he took a deep breath. “Mr. Luckaby called us last week and told us the boy died. When we get the official death certificate, we’ll transfer the money into Mr. Luckaby’s account.”

“I’m sorry, but those plans will have to be put on hold. Collin Lane is alive and he is the son of Alexander Luckaby and his wife.”

The man stared at Clark for several moments before he turned to his computer. After three or four minutes, he looked back over at Clark. “Lane? As is Lois Lane?”

“Yes.”

“Wasn’t she Lex Luthor’s wife?”

“Yes. I will call the attorney in charge of this case. I think you and she need to discuss a few things.”

“Yes. I believe we do.” He stood and motioned toward the phone on his desk. “Please, Mr. Kent, call the attorney and set up a video conference. I’ll have my secretary bring in all the necessary numbers.” He hurried into the other room while Clark phoned Mayson.

He gave Mayson a quick rundown of what was going on. She was stunned, but immediately cut the connection to make some calls. A mere fifteen minutes later, she was on the vid screen in the conference room discussing Luckaby and details of his estate. The lawyers in Sydney were shocked to say the least. They were also angry. If what Mayson was telling them was true, Alexander Luckaby was in serious trouble.

When the video conference was over, Clark stood up. “Thank you for listening.”

“We will get the necessary samples for you by the end of business tomorrow. This has to be proven and documented.”

“I understand.”

“We will also get orders for DNA from Leslie and the banked blood of Franklin. The man made a donation every chance he got while he was alive. He was paranoid that something would happen. When Alexander was small, he banked his blood as well. We’ll express it all to the lab Ms. Drake indicated.”

“We’ll fax the results back as soon as we have them.”

“Very good.” They shook hands again and Clark left.

He landed back in Metropolis and hurried up to the newsroom. Henderson was in with Perry. “What’s going on?” he asked Jack, who was perched on his desk watching the windows of the editor’s office.

“Not sure. Bill came in two minutes ago and shut himself in with Perry.”

Right about then, Perry looked up and motioned for them to come in. “Hey, Jimmy, I think we’re being paged.”

The three men entered Perry’s office and waited for whatever it was that needed to be said. None missed the fact that Perry looked like he was about to drop.

“Lois is gone,” Bill finally spoke up.

“Gone? Where?” Jimmy asked, his heart thundering in his chest.

“She and another inmate got into a fight last night. They beat each other to death.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Finally they were all prompted into action when Perry fell to the floor.

“He’s out cold,” Clark said as he assessed the man’s condition. “Call an ambulance.”

Bill called for help on his phone while the other man struggled to help their boss. Twenty minutes later, Perry was on his way to Mercy Hospital.

“I’ll go with him,” Jimmy told the others.

Clark nodded and watched as they carted the old editor out of the newsroom. “What the hell happened, Bill?” he wanted to know.

“Apparently the leader of one of the gangs wanted Lois as her… friend. She and her gang held her down and raped her with whatever they could get their hands on. But that girl had spunk. She kicked and clawed, knocked out the two gang members, then went to whaling on the leader. They passed licks with chairs, crushed each other’s faces into the bars, dragged each other across the floor… It was a bloody mess.”

“Where is she?” Clark wanted to know.

“They’re holding her in the morgue at the prison until her father tells us where to send her body.”

Clark was halfway to the stairwell before Henderson yelled at him. “Where are you going?”

“I need to get permission from Sam for an autopsy.”

Bill could only grin because Clark was gone. “Smart boy,” he said to Jack. “I’ve already asked the doctor to give us permission.”

“Did he?” Jack wanted to know.

“Yeah. But he wants Bernie Klein to do the exam.”

“Another smart man,” Jack said as he went to answer a phone.

“See ya’, kid.”

***

Mayson found Clark standing on the balcony, leaning over on the wall. “Thought you might need a refill,” she said as she set a full bottle of beer up beside his arms.

“Thanks.” He tossed his empty bottle across his shoulder and it landed with a crash in the large can he’d put out next to the door. He chuckled softly at the reprimand he received from his mother.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah.” He took a long gulp from his beer, then turned to lean on an elbow so he could look at Mayson. “I haven’t said thank you for everything you’ve done.” Mayson had rushed every known application and subpoena through as fast as she could. They were waiting on results from Bernie, but they now knew a lot more than they had a few days ago.

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what I do.”

“Yeah, well…” He took another drink from his beer.

“It was a great party,” she told him, mainly to have something to say. They’d celebrated the twins’ second birthday.

“The look on that kid’s face…” Clark smiled as he remembered the surprised expression on Collin’s face when he saw all of the people and balloons and decorations. The cake had been a huge hit. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to get all of the chocolate out of his hair. The bicycle was another hit. He rode a path through the apartment before he’d dropped from sheer exhaustion. Perry hadn’t made it as long as he had. They were both sleeping in the loft where Clark had made them a makeshift bed they had all shared since they came to the city. He’d been sure to install a gate at the top of the stairs, though. Collin had nearly fallen down the ones at the farm.

“What are you going to do when Bernie confirms Lois’ death?”

“I’m going to get you to file the necessary papers to declare Perry her daughter, then I’m going to apply to legally adopt both of them.”

“What?” she asked with raised brows.

“Come on, Mayson. They’re mine. You’ve seen that. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Give them to the state? Sam’s going to be in prison for a while. Lucy’s still so fried she doesn’t know her name and they don’t belong to Luthor. Right now, I’m all they have.”

“And you’re prepared to keep them?”

He glanced toward the door. “I think I’ve been prepared to keep them for a long time now.”

“So you’ll commute, Superman style, back and forth to Kansas the rest of their lives? What happens when they’re older and start asking questions?”

“Actually, my parents looked at a place near Perry. They told me they’ve been thinking of moving to Metropolis for a while. They know I want to be a bigger part of the kids’ lives and I won’t take them from my folks.”

“The solution is for your parents to give up the family farm and move to the city with their son?”

“The solution is for my folks to choose love over bricks and mortar.” Clark slugged down the rest of his beer.

“For kids that are not even blood…” She stared at him, glanced at the apartment, then smiled. “I have *got* to move to Kansas.”

“Why?”

“So I can catch myself a good husband.”

Clark laughed as Mayson drank down some of her beer. “I thought you and Dan were working on things.”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m not the best reporter in the city for no reason,” Clark leaned back over on his arms across the balcony wall. “Are you? He could have come with you tonight.”

“Yeah, you would have been totally okay with that.” There was no sarcastic tone in her voice. Clark really would have been okay if she’d brought Dan along tonight. “How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“No. I don’t have enough time to think, let alone date.” He tilted his head to the side when his hearing kicked in.

“You need to go?”

He listened for another moment before he shook his head. “No. Emergency crews have it.” They stood in silence, staring at the side of the next building. His balcony offered a horrible view, but it was secluded and private. He glanced at the woman beside him. He’d come to cherish his friendship with Mayson. She asked questions he needed her to, even if he didn’t want her to ask them. And she’d gone above and beyond the call of duty for Lois and the investigation to help her. It would be days if not weeks before they had the results from all of the tests Bernie was running, but at least they had a solid direction to go in.

Martha yelled from inside that some of their guests were preparing to leave, so Clark sighed and stood up. “Come on. Walk me inside,” he told Mayson, throwing his arm over her shoulder as they headed toward the door. Tomorrow was a new day- more time to think about Lois and her situation.

Just like every other day.

***

“We have major trouble brewing,” Nigel told David as he entered the office.

He looked up at him, a little pissed to be interrupted from his call. “Yes, let me call you back,” he told his caller. When he’d replaced the receiver, he leaned back in his chair. “Do tell.”

“A source inside the prison says that Lois was killed three days ago.”

“Good. That trash is out of my hair for good.”

“Not good. My source is better than that, sir. She’s not dead. It was meant to look that way.”

“For what reason?”

“Because Juan Delconto wanted it to.”

David’s face turned white and he sat up and leaned on the desk. “Why?”

“For the same reason he wanted Paul Lang. He’s furthering the doctor’s research.”

“And the boy?” David asked as he stood up.

“Still being guarded by Henderson’s men. And Kent’s always around, too. Delconto will wait until there’s no trace.”

“Yes, yes.” David paced from behind the desk. “We need to get him before Juan does.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do?” Nigel had been desperately attempting to get his hands on that kid without being seen.

“Don’t be a smartass, Nigel!” David clipped out. “He thinks Paul can help his condition,” David deduced as he paced back and forth.

“How could knowledge of the pregnancy and birth of cloned children help him?”

“How do I know?” he snapped. “But you know Paul was into more than cloning. Maybe some of that research he was doing in fertility and cell reproduction is what Juan’s after.” He walked over to the window. “We have do something. Anything!”

“Just tell me what.”

“If I knew what, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!” he shouted and picked up a paper weight off his desk and threw it across the room.

***

It had been two weeks since the birthday party. Bernie had performed the autopsy on the body from the prison and determined that it was not Lois Lane. Henderson had launched a full investigation of the prison and the warden, looking for evidence of how Lois had gotten out of the institution without notice. Apparently the security system had been down that night for service. There had been extra guards on duty, but of course the fight in D-block had led to a lockdown and the extra manpower had been shifted to the troubled area. Being as it was the same block that housed Lois, it should have been easy to explain what happened. However, she’d just disappeared without a trace.

Bernie had learned a few other disturbing things as well. The samples sent from Sydney were quite telling. The man born as Alexander Luckaby was indeed Lex Luthor. He was also the biological son of Lionel Luthor, not Franklin Luckaby. It was also proven that Leslie Luckaby was not the biological son of Lex either. Bernie ran a few other tests and found out that Luthor was infertile, just as Paul Lang’s journal had stated. Franklin Luckaby’s lawyers informed them that the elder Luckaby had set strict guidelines for his son to be able to inherit his share of the Luckaby fortune, including marriage and sons. Thus, the need for his marriage to Lois and the birth of her son. That man had created such a tangled web, Clark was sure they’d never get through it all.

“Clark?”

He looked up from his computer to see Mayson coming down the ramp. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Let’s talk in the conference room.” She motioned with her head and he stood up to follow her.

“What’s going on?” he asked when the door was closed.

“I just got a call from Sydney. Even though Leslie and Collin are not biologically related to Luthor, they were legally tied to him. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Lex was really Alexander, and while that presents a whole lot of complications here in the states, he filed his marriage to Lois and the birth of Collin in Australia, under the Luckaby name.” She held out a piece of paper to him. “Collin just became a very wealthy little fellow. And because he has a sister, she’s as rich as he is. Franklin did specify male offspring to carry on his name, but he made provisions for any females born.”

Clark read over the papers outlining the trust. “We don’t want this money.” There would be a deposit made to an expense account once a month until the children graduated college. They would then inherit over ten billion dollars each. Of course, there would be a check to pay for tuition, all the way through school. Another would be available for a wedding of their dreams, and another trust for two children each.

“Consider it payback, for them losing their mother,” Mayson told him. “I’ve thought this over. I’ve asked tons of questions. The lawyers in Sydney want to wash their hands of this whole mess.”

“So give the money to the twins?”

“There’s also a healthy sum to continue the investigation to help Lois.”

“What?”

“They want to smooth this over, make themselves look good. They also want us to find out what happened to Alexander’s first wife, Arianna. Her family’s prepared to fork out another billion for positive results.”

“It’s blood money, Mayson.”

“No, it’s old, family money. Yes, Franklin and now Leslie is paid by the Delconto Organization, but it’s more of a benefits package. They never gave them enough to make them rich. They needed stooges and they got good ones.” She tapped the paper. “This would allow you to buy your parents a house here and they can keep the family farm.”

He looked up at her. “That’s playing dirty.”

“Yeah, well, I do what I have to do.”

He quirked a brow at her. “How big is your check?”

“You know me better than that. I won’t take a dime without your permission.” She glared at him, giving him back the same expression he gave her. “I could accept on behalf of the kids without your permission. Is that what you want?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he said as he stepped around her, looking down at the papers.

“No, but Clark, think about it. They owe Lois.”

“Money won’t replace what she’s lost.”

“No, but it will sure as hell give her enough ammunition to rub it in somebody’s face one day.”

Clark finally turned back to Mayson. “I’ll talk this over with my folks and Perry, Jack, and Jimmy. If they think it’s a good idea, then we’ll take it.”

“Good.” She turned to leave. “I’ll call when I know anything else.”

“I’ll be here.” Clark’s eyes fell back down to the paper in his hands. What would he do with all of this money? Granted, the kids would end up with a ton when they were grown. Still… it was too much to contemplate. He glanced up to see Jack and Jimmy in the bullpen. No time like the present to see what everyone else thought.

Ten minutes later he was sitting across from Perry’s desk waiting to hear what he thought.

“Not everybody with money acts like Luthor,” Jimmy pointed out. “Perry and Collin will have morals and values. They’d use it wisely.”

“I’m not worried about that, Jimmy. Is it right to take it to begin with?”

“Hell, yeah,” Jack added. “Payment for all the crap!”

“Jack, I didn’t do what I’ve done for payment.”

“I know that, CK. It’s just…” He sighed in frustration, not able to explain what he felt.

“Mayson’s right,” Perry spoke up. “Luckaby money is old, family money. Franklin’s great, great grandmother was the wife of a duke. A rich duke that inherited even more money from his uncle, who had no children. When the duke died, the wife got the money. She married Gordy Luckaby, who knew how to invest all of that loot. Harold Luckaby bought into the insurance industry right before the Great Depression. His Australian money multiplied in the wake of America’s misfortune.”

“So how did Franklin end up working for Delconto?” Jimmy asked.

“Franklin’s sister was Juan’s third wife,” Perry answered.

“And you say I can root out info,” Jack said with snort.

Perry chuckled. “Yeah, well, I can find out things when I threaten to write unsavory details of people’s lives and business practices.”

“Way to go, Chief,” Jimmy said with a grin.

“The sister wasn’t Ellen Lane’s mother was she?” Jack asked.

“No. Ellen was born to his second wife, Lorna. Anyway, it’s believed that Delconto hired Luckaby to keep him quiet.”

“A case of your enemies closer,” Clark spoke up.

“Something like that.” Perry leaned his forearms on the desk and looked over at the other man. “Clark, take the money. You can use it to help Lois. When we finally get her out of all of this, she’ll need money to re-establish her life. Mayson deserves the payday and I’m sure Jack and Jimmy here wouldn’t mind helping you spend some of it. You could hire them to help find out what happened to Arianna Carlin.”

He glanced at the other men, then at the papers. “I still want to talk to my parents.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on and do that. Then call Mayson to get things squared away.”

He nodded at Perry and stood up to leave. How much more twisted would this story get before it finally worked itself out?

***

Clark rounded the corner at the end of the block from his apartment. He heard his mother scream and shot off like a rocket. He made it inside just in time to see her slam the bathroom door closed on an advancing man. “Hey!” he yelled, causing the man to turn with wide eyes. The intruder barely had time to blink before Clark had him tied up and lying on the floor at the end of his bed. He pulled out his cell and dialed Henderson’s direct line. “Bill, this is Clark. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think there was just an attempted kidnapping at my place.” He listened a second. “Yeah, he’s okay. My mom locked them inside the bathroom.” He listened again. “Yeah, got it.” He closed his cell and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mom?”

“Clark?” She opened the door and wrapped her arms around his neck. “They tried to take Collin.”

“I know.” He released his mother and kneeled to hold his arms out to the twins. They were glued to Martha’s legs, but went willingly into his arms. “I’ve got you.” He kissed each head and stood with a child in each arm. “What happened?”

“Your father went to the store and two guys came in the door. The guard chased one out, but that guy was coming in after him hard.”

“He’s tied up now.” They walked past the man lying on the bedroom floor and into the living room. Clark sat in the chair and they waited until Henderson got there. When the guy was loaded into a cruiser and on his way to county, Bill came back in to get Martha’s statement. Jonathan arrived in the middle of everything. He hurried to his wife to make sure she was okay after asking about the kids.

“I’m pretty sure they were working for whoever wants this kid.” Bill reached over and rubbed the boy’s head, who tucked his face into Clark’s neck. “I hate to say it, Kent, but you need to get these kids out of here until we can figure all of this out.”

“Where am I supposed to take them, Bill?”

“Somewhere with only one way in and one way out.”

Clark turned his head so that he could kiss Perry’s face. Bill was right. They needed to be protected, but he needed to be here to help with the case. He’d speak with his folks and they’d figure it out. Somehow, someway they’d keep this boy safe.

***

“This is a damn mess,” Perry said as he sat at the conference room table. Clark had taken his folks and the twins to Perry’s lake house, for now. Dan Scardino had agreed to be their personal guard until something more permanent could be figured out. Jack had wanted to go with them, but reluctantly agreed he could be more helpful using his computer skills.

“My question is who wants him?”

“Luthor,” Jack answered immediately.

“But hasn’t he served his usefulness? Luthor has his money.” Luckaby’s lawyers had tried to stop him from keeping it, but the account that the funds had been wired to had ceased to exist. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. The money was just gone.

“Wherever that’s at,” Jack said as he looked through some papers. “Find that money, find that bastard.”

“We know that, Jack,” Jimmy pointed out. They’d been looking for the fifty billion that had vanished into the recesses of the virtual world.

“How about smaller accounts?” Jack pushed his laptop around in front of Clark, who was sitting closest to him. “Twenty-eight billion dollars was deposited into an account under the name David Harris of Harris International ten weeks after the money was wired to Luckaby.”

“Harris International? Isn’t that the oil tycoon?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah. Reclusive playboy, takes over flailing businesses.”

Clark leaned closer. “He’s leading a bid to take over LexCorp.”

“But Harris is a loaded in his own right,” Jimmy went on.

“Twenty-eight billion is nothing to sneeze at, Jimbo.” Clark turned the laptop back toward Jack. “See if you can find out where the money came from.”

“On it.” Jack went to work, flashing through screen after screen.

“Busted!” Jimmy shouted and ran out of the room. He came back a second later carrying a photo he’d sent to the printer from his computer. “This a picture of David Harris taken at Metropolis International Airport by a friend of mine in the gossip business. Who does he look like?”

“A lot like Harris,” Jack pointed out as he turned his computer around to show them the picture on the screen. He was right; the two men did look alike. But if you looked carefully…

“Luthor!” Clark breathed.

“I’d say so.” Jimmy hurried over to pick up more photos they’d dug out. He put them up on the board to compare them side by side. “Luthor, in all of his haired glory. Luthor, as Alexander- bald as hell. And could this be Luthor, as David Harris?” The last picture showed a man with hair, although not a lot. It was dirty blonde and short. It also looked like there had been an attempt to disguise himself behind the mustache that Harris was known for.

“Only one way to find out if we’re right,” Clark announced and stood up.

“It’s nearly midnight, son,” Perry spoke up.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna take a peek super style.” He waggled his brows and left. Flying high over the building where it was rumored Harris was staying, he carefully trained his vision on the occupants inside. David, or Luthor, was entertaining a woman. Poor girl, Clark thought as he continued his visual search. He stopped when he saw a man sitting in a chair in another room. The man was listening to classical music and drinking some kind of alcohol. He was also someone Clark knew. He was Nigel St. John with black hair. “Got ‘em!” he said with a fist pump, then zipped back to the Planet.

“Well?” Jack asked the time he walked in.

“He’s Luthor. I saw him and Nigel.”

“I’ll call Henderson,” Perry spoke up. “Of course, he’ll need more than a hunch to make a positive ID.”

“We’ll find him something,” Jack said as he went back to work on the computer.

“Sorry to run out on you,” Clark spoke up. “But I need to go check on my kids.”

“No problem, CK. We have this covered.” Jimmy waved him off and he left them to work while he went to make sure his twins were okay.

***

Frustrated didn’t begin to explain how Clark and the others felt. They couldn’t find a legal reason to check into David Harris’ legal identity. They’d done a background search and couldn’t find a thing that said Harris wasn’t who he said he was. They continued to dig into Luckaby’s business, into Luthor’s business, and into everything else they could find to comb through. The men who broke into Clark’s place said that a man paid them to go snatch the boy and take him back to a warehouse. The warehouse was swept, the man was found. The man said he was contacted by phone. The money was left at the warehouse for him to pick up. The phone call was traced back to a prepaid cell. After days and days of searching, nothing.

Clark decided to accept the offer from the Luckaby estate. Refusing to hide, he used some of it to upgrade the security at the farm and pay two fulltime guards who would work around the clock to protect his son.

And he was his son. With each day that passed, Clark fell more in love with those kids. It didn’t matter how they’d come to him. It didn’t matter how insane the situation was that was keeping them with him. All he knew was that he loved those kids and they’d become vital to his existence.

Legal avenues were pursued, not-so-legal avenues- thanks to Jack- and every stone turned. The man known as David Harris practically dared them to prove he was Lex Luthor. They’d traced the money, but were unable to discover how it got into his account or where it came from. They hit wall after frustrating wall.

They were unable to find out what happened to Lois or where she was. Whoever took her, had covered their tracks too well.

The days dragged by, and then the weeks. Eventually the months slipped away. Before anyone knew it, nearly another year had passed. As spring descended on the city, so did the hope of a breakthrough in the case.

***

Lifting her sunglasses to cover her eyes, the woman hefted her small backpack onto her back and hurried across the street. It had been a long trip to get here, but she’d finally made it. Glancing at the paper in her hand, she looked up at the building to make sure she had the right place. She smiled and opened the door of the little shop.

“Good morning,” came the cheerful voice of the lady behind the counter.

“Good morning. I came about the ad.” She laid the paper down and pointed to the ad she’d circled.

“Oh, yes ma’am. You want to rent the apartment?”

“Yes. Can you show it to me?”

“Sure.” The lady led her through the small building; it was a book shop. “Do you think you’ll be okay living above the business?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said as they continued into the back.

“That’s the entrance you’ll use when the shop is closed.” The woman pointed to the back door. “We lock the shop door.” She motioned for Lois to follow and they went up. There was a small landing at the top of the stairs. The woman stopped and unlocked the door. There was a kitchen, living area, and a bedroom with a full bath. “Nothing fancy.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I lived here until I married. The kids have each taken their turn here. Nice for a single person.”

“It’s great,” she repeated her approval. “The add says it includes utilities?”

“Oh yes. Everything’s included, even satellite television.”

She nodded, looking around again. She walked over to the window and looked out over the square. There was going to be a festival soon. Folks were scrambling to get set up.

“You’ll love it here. We sure have.”

She turned and smiled at the woman. “I’ll take it.”

The older woman smiled back. “Good. How about a cup of coffee?”

***

The slim redheaded woman settled in easily enough because she didn’t have but one bag. After taking dust covers off the furniture, she walked over to look out of the window at the commotion on the square. The annual Corn Festival was in full swing. She still couldn’t believe there was a ritual devoted to corn.

But it didn’t really matter. She was only in Smallville for one reason. She showered and dressed, then headed toward the ongoing festivities in town. There was going to be a dance with a live band tonight. She was told most people around came out, so she figured that was her best shot to do what she needed to do.

Dressed like the local folks in jeans and a tee-shirt, she ordered a barbeque sandwich from a stout gentleman she was sure might be a cross dresser. Surprised by how tasty the food was, she chose a bench on the edge of the makeshift dance floor and looked around. She hated her new glasses, but they helped her hide in plain sight.

“Again, Daddy!”

She turned to the excited squeal of a little boy behind her. He was jumping up and down as his dad retrieved the balls from an attendant at a game booth. When the man turned her way, she nearly fell off the bench.

“That’s him!” she breathed as her eyes fell on the boy again. He was so tall! Beautiful black hair was tousled on top of his head. Chubby cheeks were filled with dimples.

And his smile…

Tears filled her eyes as she watched him hold the softballs for…

“Clark,” she whispered. As she watched, the man she’d just spoken of stopped and turned around. She quickly busied herself with eating, pasting a fake smile on as she watched the dancers. When he threw his first ball, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d heard her.

What was she thinking? He *had* probably heard her.

The little boy shouted and cheered when Clark knocked down the milk containers again. He was so adorable. His eyes danced in the multi-colored lights beginning to twinkle to life in the setting Kansas sun.

“Uncle Jack, Daddy won me a bear!”

The boy ran a few feet away and into the waiting arms of another young man. She remembered him. He’d grown up a bit since she’d seen him last.

But what nearly took her breath away was the little girl in the arms of the man beside Jack. Perry! Her precious Perry. She looked so much like her brother. They were wearing matching outfits- Collin in overalls and Perry in a dress that was made like overalls. They both had on red shirts under their denim and white tennis shoes.

They were both gorgeous.

And Jimmy… Wow! He was certainly a handsome man now.

Walking behind Jimmy and Jack she recognized Mayson Drake, who was walking arm in arm with a tall, dark-headed man. Clark greeted everyone, then they headed toward the rides. She stood and drifted around the craft booths, keeping an eye on the small group. Clark rode ride after ride, played several more games, and bought ice cream cones for the twins. He smiled widely, laughed with them, and held them like they were the most precious things in his world. He had been a very good choice, she thought as she drifted to another display.

As she rounded the corner to stay hidden from the others, she saw someone else that caused her breath to hitch. “Perry!” she said as she looked at the older man. He was laughing and holding Alice’s hand. They were walking with another woman and the man from the barbeque stand. The man and woman must have been husband and wife because his arm was around her shoulder as they walked along. They chose a large table near the bandstand and after a few minutes, Jimmy and Jack joined them. Another young man came up with a girl. They laughed and talked, then the younger boy and girl left. As she continued to watch, little Perry ran their way.

“Nana!” She crawled into the lap of the older woman she didn’t recognize. Clark and Collin sat down and before long Mayson and her companion joined them. As she continued to watch, she realized the other older couple must be Clark’s parents. Clark ordered food and fed the kids. He happily ate the fries they offered him and kept their little faces wiped.

He’d done a wonderful job with them, she thought as she continued to watch. Both children talked a mile a minute and Clark patiently answered all of their questions. His smile didn’t look forced and his laugh reached his eyes. He was happy.

Happy with her kids. Wiping the stubborn tears from her cheeks, she started back to her place. She’d needed to see they were okay. She’d need to know that Clark wanted them, loved them. Even if he’d never bargained to be anyone’s daddy when it was thrust upon him, she needed to know he was okay with it. Not only did he look okay, he looked as natural in his role as father as he seemed to be in his role as reporter.

Lois had been back in the states for a few days, learning how to blend in with her surroundings. She had a plan and part of that plan had been to make sure her kids were okay. She’d done a check on Clark Kent and learned that he was a good reporter- had won several awards. He was boasted as the hottest ticket in town. Several billboards around Metropolis displayed his picture. He seemed to be as clear-cut as he came off. No record, graduated high school and college with honors. He was an athlete, star of the football team. He lived in an unassuming part of town, although she’d learned that he had a very healthy bank account. He’d recently made an offer on a house near where Perry lived. The only thing that troubled her had been lack of information on the twins. There had been tons of pictures of Clark with Collin the day they’d gotten him. There were several follow-ups, then nothing. Kent had done a good job of keeping them out of the spotlight.

She’d talked with the lady who ran the diner the day before. The twins lived in Smallville with Clark’s folks. He visited as often as he could, and they went with him to the city at least once a month. Maisey also told Lois that the elder Kents and their grandchildren were planning to move to Metropolis so they could be closer to Clark.

She stood in the window of her apartment above the shop and watched the people coming and going at the festival. Her eyes searched until she found the table where Clark and the others sat. She was close enough that she could make them out clearly enough. Pulling a chair over so she could sit down, she left the lights out and watched her children play.

“Soon,” she promised them softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

***

“Hey, CK, we had a blast in Smallville,” Jack informed him as he came over and dropped on the edge of his desk. “Thanks for asking us out.”

“No problem, Jack.” He grinned at the man.

“Although I am glad your folks are moving to the city. I have a feeling Denny would have asked to live with them, too.” He and Clark shared a laugh and talked about their weekend.

Clark looked up when the elevator dinged and Henderson entered the newsroom. “Kent, got a second?”

“Sure.” He stood and patted Jack’s shoulder. “Later.”

“Got it.” The man disappeared the way he always did.

“What’s up, Bill?” Clark asked when they were alone in the conference room.

“The occupants of the space station are coming home early. I thought maybe it would be easier for Lana to hear about her folks from you.”

“Yeah. When?”

“Tonight. We can get in right after debriefing. Meet me at EPRAD about seven. One more thing… we found Paul Lang.”

“Where?”

“On a beach off the coast of Spain. The local police found him a week ago. A friend of mine from Interpol just happened to catch the memo and called me. Scardino flew out last night and he just called a little while ago.”

“Is he talking?”

“Sorry, Kent, Lang was dead. Gunshot to the back of the head. He was executed.”

Just then the door banged open and Mayson entered. “We’ve finally caught a break!” She opened her suitcase and took out several photos. “Dan took these this morning- Spain time. He emailed them to me. This is a compound about sixty miles from where Lang’s body was found.” She looked up at the men. “You did tell Clark?” she asked Henderson.

“Yeah. What are these?”

“This compound is owed by Pedro Renaldo.”

“Pedro Renaldo?” Henderson asked.

“As in the man believed to be the son of Juan Delconto?” Clark put in.

“That’s the one. Dan said he spoke with some of his buddies from his law enforcement days and they tell him that up until six weeks ago, there was a man at the compound in a wheelchair.” She produced another photo. “This man.”

Bill jerked the picture up. “Juan Delconto.”

“Didn’t he die several years ago?” Clark wanted to know.

“Right around the time several agencies got together and decided to launch a major investigation into his organization,” Mayson added. “That’s why every division of every agency in the world was scrambling to find out who his next of kin was.”

“Ella was his only legal heir. However, it was believed that he’d fathered nearly a dozen sons. Pedro being the oldest.” Bill looked at the photo again. “That’s him though.”

“Wait. If this compound was owned by the alleged son of Delconto, wasn’t he investigated?” Clark thought he should ask the obvious.

“Thoroughly. We believe that bribes were paid to make records disappear.”

“But look at the photos,” Mayson pointed out. “It looks like a war took place there. Dan is working with Interpol to secure warrants to go in. We should know something by tomorrow.” She took out yet more pictures. “There’s something else.”

Clark snatched up the images she laid out. “Lois!”

“No wonder we couldn’t find her. We were looking in the wrong place,” Bill spoke up.

“And for the wrong person.” Clark shuffled through the pictures, then looked back down at the more recent ones. “Why wasn’t somebody notified when she was spotted?”

“Dan says that branch of Interpol has been working for years to get something on Renaldo. I’m sure a woman being at the compound was an everyday occurrence.” She started picking up the pictures. “I’ve sent copies of all of these to your office,” she told Bill. “I have a deposition in an hour. I’ll call when I hear something.”

Bill turned after she left. “I have to go, too. This is major.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell Perry when he comes in.”

“Where is that old news hound?”

“Closing the deal on the Planet.”

“What?”

Clark grinned. “He bought the Planet from Stern.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Bill shook his head and left.

Before Clark could make it back to his desk, Jack came rushing over, grinning from ear to ear. “Who’s your daddy?” he asked Clark.

“Jonathan Kent, I hope.”

“Funny.” Jack shoved a piece of paper in front of Clark. “Where’s Bill? We need to see if he can use this.”

“What is it?”

“DNA results from a cigar I lifted from a party at the Lexor Hotel two nights ago. I filled in for my buddy Ron as waiter. And guess who one of the guests was?”

“Who?”

“David Harris.”

Clark’s eyes snapped from Jack’s down to the paper. “They match Luthor’s?”

“Yes sir!” Jack was grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re right. Henderson needs this.” He took the paper and ran from the room. Bill was crossing the street when he made it downstairs. “Bill!”

When Clark caught up to him and explained what he had, Bill started grinning. “I’ll try to get a warrant by close of business.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

The Inspector nodded and hurried down the block to where he’d parked his car. Clark stuffed his hands in pockets and looked around. What now? He’d go tell Perry and the others to sit tight, then maybe he’d fly to Spain, offer his eyes for a super search on that compound. If Lois had been there, where was she now? Had they… killed her? Taken her somewhere else? He needed answers and he was much too impatient to sit around and wait for them to come to him.

***

Superman flew to Spain and was greeted by officials there with the utmost respect. They were more than pleased to have him go out to Renaldo’s compound and take a look around. His super eyes might be better than all of theirs combined. He arrived only moments after the teams of investigators did, having just been allowed by a judge to enter the grounds. The place was huge, spanning several miles along the coastline and into the interior of the small island off the mainland. It appeared there had indeed been some kind of war. Bodies were lying everywhere; the smell of rotting corpses hung heavily in the air.

“What happened?” Superman asked the lead detective.

“We think there was a shootout among them. We haven’t deduced why yet, but most of these men have the same tattoo.” He bent to show Superman an emblem on a dead man’s arm. “It is believed that once you enter the Delconto Organization, they brand you.”

“And once in, this is the only way out,” Superman said as he waved his hand at the carnage.

“I’m afraid so.”

He continued further onto the estate, counting casualties as he went. By the time he reached the main house, he was up to seventy. More bodies were inside. It took a while to search through the main rooms because of the sheer size of the house. Another wing spanned out toward the water. When he reached the eastern section, he made a huge discovery. Down a tunnel and several steps was an entire bunker. It appeared to be a lab of some sort. It looked as if it had been abandoned in the middle of some experiment or other.

“In here,” shouted an officer.

Superman entered the other room, which was obviously a morgue, judging from the metal drawers in the wall. As they pulled out several, his thought was confirmed.

“We’ve hit the jackpot,” came the voice of another man. He pulled out a drawer with a body lying on it who looked like…

“Juan Delconto!”

Superman turned to see Dan Scardino enter the room.

“Superman, I didn’t know you were coming out for this.”

“Yeah, thought I could lend some eyes.”

Dan chuckled softly and slapped his shoulder. He was quite a character, having become friends with Clark over recent months. “Looks like the old man died before the turf war.”

An officer leaned up and looked at the others. “No obvious wounds.”

“Get him out of here and to the examiner. I want to know by daybreak tomorrow what killed him.”

“Not a problem.” The young man began preparing the body for transport as the others kept milling through the mess left behind.

Superman pointed out things not so obvious to regular eyes as he made way through the house. When he stepped into the secluded room close the beach, he stopped. “Lois,” he breathed. He could smell her. He’d only seen her twice, but she’d been in this room. “This is where they kept Lois Lane,” Superman told the detective with him.

“It was cut off from the rest of the house. Gated, even the beach was blocked by boulders.” He waved toward the surf.

“Not to mention the watchtowers,” Dan pointed out as he entered the room. “We need to find something with a little DNA on it.”

“Will this work?” Superman asked as he came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush.

“You know it will,” Dan said with a grin and opened a bag for him to drop the item in. “Where is she now? We’ve looked and can’t find her body.”

“I’ll search again. Did you find Renaldo?”

“In his car in the garage. It seems he was trying to make a getaway,” Dan told him.

Superman nodded and was about to leave, but turned back. “What can you tell me about Paul Lang?”

“Executed,” Dan informed him. “How he got to the beach is beyond me.” Dan pointed out across the water at a speck of land just barely visible. “He was found on that island. Obviously the tide washed him over there. From the looks of things, he was killed sometime during their little war.”

Superman left the room and began carefully searching the grounds and house again. Although close to a hundred bodies were discovered, none were Lois Lane. He was headed back out to where the police had set up a makeshift headquarters when Dan caught up with him. “Ten of the bodies didn’t have the Delconto tats.” He steered the Man of Steel toward the bodies that had been separated from the others. “This guy…” He indicated which one with his foot. “… is a known associate of Intergang.”

“As in Intergang in Metropolis?” Superman asked.

“As in Bill Church,” Dan said with a grin. “If my theory’s correct, Church sent a crew to eliminate the competition.”

“Why would they agree to a death sentence? From everything I’ve heard, people know it’s suicide to confront Delconto.”

“Don’t ask me, but that’s what it looks like.” He waved a hand toward one side of the compound. “The fence wire has been snapped open over there and you can clearly see where several men came through. I think it was an execution-style assignment. In and out, everybody dead and nobody knows they were here.”

“Then what went wrong?”

“Anybody’s guess.” Dan shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “All I know is that the sons of bitches took care of themselves for us. The organization will fold now. At least seven of the nine believed to be sons of Delconto have already been identified among the dead.”

“That still leaves two,” Superman said grimly.

“Yeah, but if they’re running, we’ll find them.”

“I hope so. I’ll debrief the detective before I go.”

“No problem. Thanks for the super peek.”

“I wish I’d found more to help.”

“Me, too.”

Superman walked away, leaving Dan to stare at the mess left by whatever force had swept through the place. Could the infamous Delconto Organization really have been toppled here?

And where was Lois?

***

Clark waited inside a room at EPRAD for Lana to arrive. He hated to be the one to tell her that her folks were gone, but knew it was best coming from him. The door opened and she stepped inside.

“Clark!”

“Hiya, stranger,” he said as he folded her into a warm hug.

She drew back to look up at him with a frown. “What?” She could tell by the way he’d hugged her something was wrong.

“That obvious?”

“I know you too well.”

He took her hands and led her over to a chair. Once they were seated, he finally raised his eyes to hers. “Lana, something’s happened.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “She was found dead a few months ago.” Lana sat, stunned, her mouth hanging open, her eyes filling with tears. “The investigation points to…” He looked down where his thumbs rubbed the backs of her hands. “… your father killed her.”

She jerked away from him and stood up. “Liar!”

“I’m not, Lana,” he said softly as he pulled a file across the table. “There’s a copy of the reports in there.” He stood and she backed away from him. “That’s not all. Your father was found on a beach in Spain. He’d been… executed.”

She just stared at him, unable to utter a word.

“We believe he was working for Lex Luthor, then Bill Church, and at the end for Juan Delconto.” He jerked a finger toward the file. “There’s excerpts from a diary we found in his lab. He had an affair several years ago with a woman named Ellen Lane. He fathered a child with her.”

Lana suddenly smiled. “Clark, why are you teasing me like this?”

“I’m not teasing you, Lana. I’m very serious.” The smile slowly faded from her face and she glanced at the file. “The woman’s name is Lucy. We’ve confirmed that Paul was her biological father. And, Lana, he killed Ellen Lane. He admits it in the diary.”

She stared at Clark for a long while before she moved over and dropped to the chair. Slowly she opened the file and began reading. After a few minutes, she picked the file up and threw it across the room. “How could he?”

“I know,” Clark said soothingly as he sat back down in front of her. “The entire mess is unbelievable.” She looked up at him with huge tears in her eyes and he reached for her, holding her while she sobbed. When she finally calmed, he took her to his place and spent the night retelling everything that had happened. He held her while she cried some more, then while she slept. He couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through her mind.

Nearing dawn, Lana came out to the living room where Clark sat on the sofa tapping away on his computer. “Did you sleep out here?” she asked of the cover on the cushions.

“Yeah, what little I slept,” he said as he looked up at her. “How do you feel?”

“Lost,” she said as she sat down beside him, leaning her head over on his arm. “You could have stayed in there with me.”

“I know.” He turned his head and kissed the top of hers.

“Clark, do you think we did the right thing when we separated?”

“What?” He shifted so he could look at her.

“Everything we’ve done leads us right back to each other,” she pointed out. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. “And I’ve missed you so much.”

He covered her hand on his face and gently pulled it away. “Lana, I’m not alone now. I have… kids.”

“Oh yeah, by my sister’s sister,” she said as she stood up and headed into the kitchen for something to drink. “I want to meet her,” she said, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

“She doesn’t know yet. Lucy was drugged with some potent stuff your father was mixing up. She’s lost her mind.”

Lana took a drink from the can of soda she’d gotten from the fridge and walked back over to lean against the bookshelf. “Will she ever be right again?”

“The doctors doubt it. I’ve tried to talk with her a couple of times. She’s like a child now.”

She turned and looked at the pictures on the shelf. “Are these the kids?”

“Yeah. Collin and Perry.”

“Perry, for a girl? How odd.”

“Lois named her after Perry White. She was…”

“The star reporter for the Planet,” Lana finished as she turned back around, holding the frame in her hands. “I remember her. She interviewed Daddy once.” Looking back at the picture, she frowned a little. “You know, Clark, they kinda’ look like you.”

“Jack says that all the time,” he said with a chuckle.

Lana replaced the frame and went to sit back beside him on the sofa. “Are you happy?”

“As a dad?” She nodded. “Like nothing I’ve ever known,” he said with pride. “They complete me the way I’ve always longed to be. With them, I feel like I belong.”

“Oh, Clark,” she said and leaned into his side. She knew how much he’d struggled with his true identity. “I guess I need to get to the police station. There are probably tons of things I have to take care of. Will you come to a memorial service for my mother?”

“You know I will. What about your father? You need to say good-bye to him, too.”

“Yeah, but under the circumstances, I think that one will be private.”

“I’ll be there, too,” he told her and wrapped an arm around her.

“You’re a good friend,” she said against his body.

“So are you.” He continued to hold her, allowing her to be comforted as long as she needed. Now that her parents were gone, he was all she had in the world.

***

David Harris hurried out to his car through the pouring rain. He had a meeting across town and he couldn’t be late. Nigel was off on an errand so he was alone in the back of his Lincoln. When the driver turned left instead of right at an intersection, David leaned forward.

“Where are you going, you idiot?” No answer. “Did you hear me? The meeting is at Seventy-second and Grand.” Still no answer. “Stop the damn car!” He reached for the handle and the locks clicked.

“Just sit back, Harris, we’ll be there soon,” came the unusual voice from the driver.

“Where’s Leon? You’re not Leon.” The driver said nothing else as the car was maneuvered through the afternoon traffic. Harris continued to rant during the entire forty-minute trip. The car finally pulled into the parking area of an abandoned manufacturing plant. When they stopped, they were inside the actual building. The doors clicked open and Harris immediately jumped out. The small driver got out as well.

“I’m going to…” David stopped when he saw the barrel of a gun pointed at him. “What is the meaning of this?”

The driver lifted a hand and took off the cap, shaking long, red hair free. “Sorry about the color, dear, but I thought it suited me.”

“Lois!” he breathed, his eyes wide in shock. “I was told you were dead.”

“Yeah, your men did a bang-up job.”

“Those were no men of mine!”

“Oh, I know that, too.” She eyed him for a minute. “You know, for a dead man you look pretty decent. The blonde hair sucks, and so does the mustache, but…” She shrugged, keeping her gun trained on him the whole time.

“I suppose you want payback.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t want payback. I want what’s rightfully mine.”

“You want money?”

“No,” she said with a wide grin. “I want to *know* you’re dead.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll fry.”

“I don’t think so,” Lois said, cocking the gun. “You see, I signed a sweet little deal to serve ten years. Two of which are nearly over. I won’t get time for leaving my nice comfortable bed in the state pen because I was taken from there against my will. And I can’t be convicted of killing you again. It’s called double jeopardy, a protection in our justice system that says a person can’t be convicted of the same crime twice. So see, my dear husband, I can finish out my time. Can you?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He shouted out in pain and fell up against the car when Lois shot him in the leg.

“You don’t think so? You took me from my life, filled me with drugs, forced me to marry you, after you impregnated me with some strange man’s sperm!”

Lex laughed evilly. “Don’t you know, *wife*, that your precious babies are nothing more than an abomination?”

“Don’t you know, Boss, not to trust the cronies who work for you?” She smiled when his grin faded a bit. “Paul was smarter than you give him credit for.” When his brows rose, she nodded. “Yes, my dear, I know the doctor’s name. He and I spent a great deal of time together recently.” She walked around, more in front of Lex from his position holding himself up against the car. “He was stabbing you in the back and you were too dumb to know it. Your *cloned* son was conceived in a petri dish, my egg and his *father’s* sperm.”

“You’re lying,” he said. “I saw the results myself.”

“Results can be doctored. But what do you care? Perry White knows he’s not your child. And if I know Perry, by now the best doctors in the world also know he’s not a clone.”

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He moved like he was going to grab her and she shot his other leg.

“You bitch!” he yelled and fell to the ground.

“Hurts so much more than a faked fall from Lex Towers, doesn’t it?” She kneeled and ground the barrel into one of his wounds, causing him to shout out in pain. “Just tell me why. Why did you pick me out of all of the women you could have chosen?”

“You were…” He gasped for breath. “… the only one smart enough to figure it all out.”

“And the irony is…” She used the gun to lift his face until their eyes met. “I did.” She stood up and dug into her pocket for a necklace, dropping it on his lap. “Juan says to send you his best.” She drew back and popped him in the head as hard as she could, rendering him unconscious. Glancing at her watch, she dropped the gun beside him on the ground. Her prints wouldn’t be on it; she’d worn gloves. She hurried across the empty building and uncovered another car. She drove out, across the yard, down a path at the back of the property. The car was parked so that she could look through binoculars and watch the police arrive to find David, AKA Lex Luthor, slumped on the ground. Satisfied they had him in custody, she drove toward the main road.

***

Clark pushed through the crowd as Lex Luthor was wheeled into the penal wing of Metropolis General Hospital. Henderson had gotten the call that local police on the outskirts of town had found the man, shot in both legs, and had taken him into custody. While they’d been unable to secure a search warrant on the evidence Jack had discovered to force David Harris to prove he was Lex Luthor, Bill had been able to get a bench warrant for Lex Luthor’s arrest. He was wanted on charges of fraud. The description that went out matched David Harris, so when he was found bleeding on the concrete in that plant, he was arrested.

“So far he’s refusing to say a word,” Bill told him as he reached Clark in the throng of reporters.

“No idea who shot him?”

“Nope. But I’d like to shake the guy’s hand.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed and followed Bill inside.

Two hours later, Lex was ranting and raving because his lawyer wasn’t there. And he wasn’t admitting he was Lex Luthor.

“Police have found the body of a man they believe is David Harris,” Bill told Clark as he approached him in the hallway. They’d been standing outside Luthor’s room talking when the Inspector got a call at the desk. “And get this… the gun found with Lex shoots the same kind of bullet found in Harris’ head.”

“We couldn’t get that lucky,” Clark said in disbelief.

“We’ll know in a few hours.”

“Call me. I have to get to the Planet and write this up.”

“You got it,” he called because Clark was halfway to the exit. Just when he thought things couldn’t get stranger, they did.

***

Clark didn’t make it home until nearly midnight that night. No sooner than he’d closed the door when there was frantic knocking on it. He pulled it back open to see an anxious Lana on the other side.

“I think I know who the father of the twins is,” she said as she pushed in around him.

“What?” he asked as he shut the door and stepped down into the living room, cutting on a light as he did.

“I found this.” She held up a small, black book. “It was in Daddy’s safe.”

She had Clark’s attention because Paul Lang had basically told the world the things he’d done in his other book. He walked closer, reaching out to take the book. He flipped through several pages before his shocked eyes met Lana’s.

“They look like you for a reason,” she said, large tears in her eyes. She’d met the twins a few days earlier and had fallen completely in love. Clark had shown up for her mother’s memorial service and the private one for her father. It had been a long, trying couple of weeks, but Clark had been her rock. “Remember the tests Daddy ran for us?”

When they’d been together and seriously talking marriage, they’d confided in Paul Lang Clark’s amazing abilities. He’d run a few tests for them to determine if Clark could father children. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“I know he told us you couldn’t, but…” Lana glanced down at the book.

He read through the pages again, unable to believe what he saw. “No way,” he breathed.

“It’s true.”

Both Clark’s and Lana’s heads snapped up when the new voice entered the conversation. Lois was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Paul told me before he was shot.” She was standing with her arms crossed, leaning on the jamb as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“How did you get off that island?” Clark wanted to know as he walked toward her.

“The first question I would have asked was how I got in your house.” She pushed off the wall and held out a hand to Lana. “You look exactly like your father described you… And a little like my sister.”

Lana took the offered limb with a wide-eyed expression on her face. “Why? Did he tell you why he did what he did?”

“Money, of course. It’s the evil that rules the world.”

“And Clark?” Lana wanted to know.

“He hated Clark.” She glanced at Clark as she retrieved her hand from the other woman. “More precisely, he loathed his biology.” Lois walked around Lana and dropped heavily on the sofa, leaving them to stare at her. “I do have to say it was genius what he was trying to do. It just blew up in his face.” She leaned back into the cushion and propped her feet up. “How ‘bout something cold to drink, Kent?”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him as he went to retrieve a few beers from the fridge. Somehow he felt Lois needed something a bit stronger than cream soda. He gave one to each woman and opened his own bottle.

“Damn, that’s good,” Lois said after she took a long gulp. “I haven’t had a beer in… well, it’s been a while.”

Lana was sitting on the chair watching Lois carefully and Clark decided to pull a chair over from the kitchen. He watched his guest as he drank from his bottle. She was everything Jimmy had described her to be. Yet nothing that he’d said she was.

“How are our babies?” she asked Clark, looking directly at him.

He glanced down at the book he still held. “This is true? They really are mine?”

Lois stared at him for several moments before she leaned up to dig in her pocket. She tossed him a small, black device. “Paul’s flash drive, with all of his notes on it. Bernie will confirm it. He just needs a little tissue from your cheek.” She pointed at him, swirling her finger in a circle.

Clark looked at the computer drive for a moment before he pushed it into his pocket. “I’ll see him in the morning.”

“Make it early,” Lois told him. “By the time the morning edition of the Planet comes out, all hell’s gonna be broke loose.” She downed the rest of her beer, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Why did they kill him?”

Lois looked over at Lana with sad eyes. “Juan’s son killed him when he failed to save his father’s life. Juan had a rare blood disorder that slowly ate him up inside. He took me from the prison and tried to find Collin because he thought the blood flowing through Collin’s veins could save his life.”

Did she know? Clark asked himself. She’d said Paul hated his biology, but did Lois know what that meant?

“I doubt anything could have saved him,” Lois went on. “Paul tried to tell him that in order for a transfusion to work, the donor blood had to be a match. Collin’s blood didn’t match Juan’s. Paul showed him the research. Mine did though.” She snorted a wry laugh. “Figures my blood would match the devil’s.” She tapped her empty bottle on the table and Clark leaned forward to replace it with his own. She shot him a half smile before turning it up. “The tests didn’t work and Juan died anyway when he caught cold.”

“And the shootout?” Clark asked her.

“I heard the shots all the way from the airstrip. When the plane circled back around, it looked like World War Three was taking place.”

“Plane? How did you get on a plane?”

“Juan’s son, Mikel, took me out. When Renaldo went crazy and shot Paul, Mikel came for me. Just as we made it through the hidden entrance on the west end of the compound, we heard the first shots. Within minutes the place sounded like a war zone.”

“It looked like one, too,” Clark told her and stood up to go get more beer. She’d emptied the second bottle as well. He tossed the empties, grabbed two more cold ones, and pushed a dinner plate his mother had sent home with him the day before into the microwave. Lois looked pale, like she hadn’t eaten in a while. And if she kept drinking so quickly, she’d be drunk soon.

Lana rose and looked for the purse she’d dropped in her excitement earlier. “Could we talk more… about my father… when I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out? I’ve been in conferences all day and I’m wiped.”

“I’ll tell you anything I can,” Lois assured her.

She nodded and turned to Clark, looking for and receiving a hug.

“Call me tomorrow,” he told her.

“I will.” She turned, but looked back up at him. “Congratulations, Daddy,” she said with a grin.

He laughed softly as she left. When he sat back down across from Lois, he placed the hot food in front of her. “Eat. You look like you could use it.”

“Did you cook it?” she asked as she took the fork he offered.

“No. Mom did.”

“Oh, oh,” she mumbled around the tasty morsels in her mouth. “This is delicious.”

“Squash casserole, pork chops, and wild rice. Nothing special.”

“Very special when you’ve had fruit and tacos for months.” She stuffed another bite into her mouth. “And before that it was prison slop.” She moaned as she continued to eat. “I think I like you, Kent.”

“Yeah, well, that might be a good thing,” he said softly as he took a drink from his beer.

She polished off the food before looking up at him. After she downed more beer, she wiped her mouth with a napkin he’d given her. “All things considered, I’m glad it’s you.”

“You don’t even know me,” he told her.

“No. Not with my head. But the first time I met you I knew there was something about you… And it has nothing to do with your biology.”

“You keep saying that. What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Paul told me you’re Superman.”

Clark’s eyes widened as he stared at her.

“Don’t worry. No one knew that he’s you. Juan just thought he’d used Superman’s sperm to impregnate me. And Renaldo didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He knew Paul was a doctor trying to find a cure for his father’s illness.” She played with the fork, staring at her plate. “You don’t know me either, but you took my little girl.”

“What choice did I have?”

Her eyes lifted to meet his. “Is that why you did it? You didn’t have a choice?”

“She needed someone.” Clark shrugged. “I could have worked something else out if I’d really wanted to.”

“And you didn’t… want to?”

He smiled at her as he thought of his beautiful little Perry. “Those big, brown eyes just kind of…” He squeezed his hand into a fist, trying to explain with his action what he couldn’t with his mouth. Little Perry had captured his heart with a single look. With all of Perry’s resources, something else could have been worked out for her. Truth was, he hadn’t really wanted her anywhere else.

“And Collin? You agreed to custody.”

His gaze fell back to hers. “I did that because he should have been with his sister. But…” He swallowed as he looked at her. The same thing he’d felt the first time he met her washed over him. That… wave of heat, like he was unbalanced. It was new to him where a woman was concerned. What was it about her? “The first time I met you there was just something about you,” he repeated softly what she’d told him a few moments ago.

Lois stared for a moment, then smiled at him. So much was said in that gaze. And so much more was left unsaid. “They stay with your parents…”

“At first we took Perry out there because we needed to… hide her. Mom and Dad fell in love and well, I just couldn’t take them away from them.” He took another drink of his beer.

“It probably helps with you being Superman, too,” she concluded.

He nodded, then glanced away, unsure what to say to her. “Does that bother you?”

“That you’re Superman?”

“That I’m different and the father of your twins?”

“No. I’m just glad I know it’s you. You don’t know how much I worried about it being some… maniac with strange diseases or some psycho who’d come to stake claim to his rights one day. I was so glad when Paul ran tests at the compound and told me I was healthy. Of course, that was before he told me you were the unknowing donor. He did that just two days before he died.” She drank from her bottle again. “I think he suspected he was going to die and wanted to clear his conscience. He confessed to killing my mother, fathering Lucy, and what he did to you. He said the only reason he didn’t kill you was because he couldn’t figure out how.”

Clark couldn’t help the smile that edged its way onto his face. “Is a bit difficult,” he said.

“I can imagine.” She finished her third beer before she looked over at him. “Does it bother you?”

His head snapped up so their eyes met. “What? Being Collin and Perry’s father?” At her nod, he grinned full out. “I’m already their daddy. Being their father is just gravy.”

“Sounds like something Jimmy would say,” Lois said with a smile as she stood up. “Do you mind if I crash here tonight? I saw a space in the loft big enough to make a makeshift bed.”

He rose to his feet. “You’re more than welcome to crash here, but take the bed. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

“I can’t run you out of your own bed.”

“You can break in, use the toilet, eat my food, and drink my beer, but you can’t sleep in my bed?”

She allowed the smile to turn into a soft laugh as she made her way into the bedroom. “How do you know I used the toilet?”

“I didn’t. Although I’m pretty sure after three beers, that’s where you’re going.” He watched as she entered the alcove leading to the bathroom, her laughter bouncing back to his ears. What now? Lois Lane was in his apartment and he’d never felt so utterly off balance in his life. He couldn’t explain it. She’d moved him the first time he’d met her, but he’d explained it away that she was a pretty woman and he liked pretty women. But this, this… whatever it was that he felt was unlike anything he’d felt before. But what did it mean? What was going to happen tomorrow?

He was going to confirm that his twins were really *his* twins!

Wow! That would make his year.

He was about to take Lois’ plate to the kitchen when his phone rang. “Hello?”

“Of all that’s holy in Memphis, Kent, she’s done it!” came Perry’s excited voice over the line. “She’s nailed that two-timing, double dealing bastard to the wall. Not only that, she’s got the goods on Delconto and has blown his organization to hell and back. Wait till you see the morning edition! For the first time in over three years, there’s gonna be a by-line with Lois Lane’s name on it!”

That was what she meant by all hell breaking loose, Clark figured as he listened to Perry rave on.

“Said she’ll see us tomorrow. Get some sleep, son. Mad Dog’s coming home!”

Clark couldn’t help but laugh as he hung up. Perry hadn’t given him a chance to say a word.

“Hey?” He turned to see Lois standing next to the bed with his sweats and one of his tee shirts on. “Wake me by six, would ya’?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up to her neck.

He chuckled and gathered up the mess from the living room. By the time he’d rinsed the dishes, he could tell by her breathing she was fast asleep. Was she that comfortable with him? To fall asleep so easily in his place? In his bed? What did that mean?

Stop it, Kent, he told himself. Poor girl’s been through hell and all he could think about was how attracted he was to her.

His mind rushed forward to the next day. There would be so much to do. Mayson needed to be called, motions filed to keep Lois out of jail, tests run to confirm the twins’ biology…

Lifting a photo of Collin and Perry, he couldn’t help but smile. They really did look like him. He’d always written it off to wishful thinking. Wouldn’t Jack be stoked? He couldn’t wait to fly out to the farm so he could hold them. His mom and dad would tell him they’d told him so- the many times they’d said the twins were their grandchildren.

Glancing at the sleeping woman in the other room, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he’d be able to hold them any time he wanted to. Lois wouldn’t go back to prison- Luthor was alive. She’d want her life back- was already taking steps toward that goal.

And she’d want her kids back, too. He’d be forced to share them with her.

She *would* share. There was no way he’d give them up now. They were his, no matter what a blood test said. He’d taken care of them, loved them for nearly two years. They were as much his as they were hers now.

Would she fight him over them?

He wasn’t going to find out tonight, so he made his way quietly into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Changing into a pair of shorts and a worn tee shirt, he went out to make up the couch. He settled after cutting all the lights and stared up at the ceiling. Things could change in the beat of heart, he thought as he listened to the steady rhythm from the other room.

Why was it having that woman in his house didn’t bother him more than it did? It almost felt like she was where she was meant to be.

That’s crazy, Kent, he told himself as he rolled over on his side. Closing his eyes, feeling the lethargy overtake him, he was glad tomorrow was another day.

***

The feeling that someone was watching him forced him to open his eyes. Two, large brown orbs were staring at him. Lois was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, leaning on the coffee table.

“I’ve been watching you, trying to picture you as that guy in blue tights who can do so many things,” she said softly.

“Superman is something I do,” he told her without moving.

“Yeah. Clark is who you are. You were raised Clark Kent, you’ve had a life as Clark, and…” She let her eyes roam over him a second. “You kinda’ look like a Clark.”

He chuckled softly. “What does a Clark look like?”

“You,” she said with a grin. She reached out to touch his arm, squeezing experimentally. She smoothed her hand down to his side, further to his leg. He’d slept on top of the cover so she was able to touch the skin on his thigh.

“What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “It’s just hard to imagine a man doing what you do. I mean, you feel like a man.” She pulled her hand back and settled so that she was cross-legged in front of him.

“I am a man.”

“Yeah, I know. A very beautiful man, too.” She looked into his eyes, a slight smile on her lips. “It’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around all of this super stuff.”

“You said it didn’t bother you,” Clark couldn’t help but say. If his super side did bother her, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

“It doesn’t. But I was in prison when you made your debut as superhero.”

Clark smiled then. She wanted to see him do something super. “Why don’t you just ask?”

“Okay. Show me what you got.” Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and he lifted up off the couch. He drifted above her for a second before he floated back down to the cushions.

“Satisfied now?” he asked her. He was still lying in virtually the same position he was in when he woke up. Only now he was grinning like he’d just stolen a cookie from the jar.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” she asked him with glint in her eye.

He laughed out loud. “I can see now you’re going to be high maintenance.”

“Yeah, but I’m worth it,” she replied with laughter in her voice.

His smile faded a bit and he held out his hand. “Want to go up with me?”

“Float?” He nodded and she automatically grasped his hand. They rose into the air, in exactly the same positions they were in from the couch and the floor. Her first instinct should have been to brace herself, but for some reason she knew she was perfectly safe in this man’s hands. She glanced around her, at the furniture below them. Her excited eyes met his. “Now this impresses me… a little.”

He laughed aloud again. “Somehow I knew it would take more than this.” He lowered them back until they were on solid ground.

“Will you show me some other stuff?”

“Sure.” He made a move to get up but she placed a hand on his chest.

“Not now. We have time.”

He relaxed back into the pillow, half lying on his back now. She had leaned back against the table and was watching him. “I know I have bad hair in the morning…”

She chuckled, but didn’t look away. “I just wanted to get to know you.”

“By looking at me?”

“You can learn a lot from just looking at someone,” she told him.

“Yeah,” he said as he rolled back to his side so he could see her better. “I guess you can.” They remained that way for a long while, simply looking at one another. When Lois’ eyes filled with tears, Clark pushed himself up on his elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Over four years of hell catching up with me,” she replied and pushed herself up onto her knees, attempting to get up. Her eyes met his when he reached out to grasp her arm. He understood that she felt lost and mixed up even if he could never really understand the true depth of what she felt. Hell, she didn’t even understand it herself. More tears stung her eyes, a sob escaped her lips.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and that was her undoing. Her body sagged and he flung his legs over the edge of the couch so he could pull her into an embrace. She clung to him where she kneeled on the floor, her face buried against his chest. Clark smoothed his hand over the back of her head while she sobbed loudly, her body wracked in pain and frustration. He felt like crying himself. He couldn’t begin to imagine how she felt, but he was fairly sure this was the first time she’d allowed herself to do this.

It was nearly twenty minutes later before she’d calmed and loosened the hold she’d had on his shirt. “Your shirt’s wet,” she told him without moving.

“It’ll dry,” he assured her, running his hand through her hair.

“You could be a pervert who gets his jollies with little boys for all I know and I’m clinging to you like you’re my lifeline,” she mumbled as she turned her face further into his body.

He laughed softly, but held her closer.

“My knees hurt,” Lois said a few moments later.

Clark floated them up so he could reach out with his other arm and pull her completely onto his lap, cradling her like a baby as he sat back down. In this position he could look at her face. His hand, on its own accord, came up and he caressed her cheek.

“Do you hold our babies like this?” she wanted to know as she looked up at him, content to stay like that.

“All the time,” he told her, pulling her closer, the hand that had caressed her face, now playing in her long red locks.

“Lex didn’t like the red hair. Of course, he never really liked me much anyway.”

His hand stilled. “When did you see Lex?”

“When I shot him,” she said, her eyes falling to a spot on his chest, her hand picking at the material of his shirt.

“You were the one who shot him?” She didn’t say anything. “Maybe we should keep that to ourselves.” And he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was Superman! He couldn’t condone actions like that.

Lois struggled to sit up, and with his help, sat down beside him on the couch. “I, ah, I had planned to kill him.”

“What?” Clark asked as he leaned up on his forearms where they rested on his knees.

“You don’t know what went through my mind, Clark.” She wiped the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “All the pain, the confusion…” Pulling a leg under herself, she stared off across the room. “He’d drugged me daily, convinced me I’d done things, made me marry him.” She leaned her head back to take a deep breath. “He used me to create what he thought was the first clone pregnancy and child. He… raped me over and over.”

Clark looked away, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He’d never loathed a person more than he did Lex Luthor at that moment.

“I gave birth to children I really didn’t know. I loved those kids, but at the same time I…” She swallowed hard. “I’m ashamed of how I felt.”

“You thought they belonged to Luthor,” he said softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her, but she’d pulled away emotionally. He could feel it.

“Even later, when I learned they didn’t belong to him.”

“Lois, everything you’ve felt is understandable.”

“Then you know why I wanted to kill him.” She stood and paced across the room. “I could have gotten away with it, too. Or at least served the rest of my time for it. I’d been convicted once…”

“Yeah, but could *you* have survived it? Survived knowing you took another person’s life?”

She turned in front of the bookshelf and looked at him. “That’s why the slimy bastard is still alive.”

Clark tried to hide the grin, but had to catch a book she picked up and threw at him.

“It’s not fair!” Her voice wasn’t angry or bitter. She felt relieved to actually be able to feel so light after all that had happened.

“What’s not?”

“That you know me so damn well and you don’t even know me at all!” She stomped into the kitchen, flipping on the light as she did. It was just beginning to get daylight outside and it was a little dark in the apartment. She’d been fine in the dim light while they’d talked, but she was thirsty and hungry and couldn’t see well enough to find herself something.

When she opened the fridge, Clark stood up. “What are you looking for?”

“Food and this…” She opened the can of cream soda and drank for a moment before she sighed in contentment. “I definitely like you, Kent.”

“Because I drink cream soda?” He reached in to grab the eggs and butter.

“Oh yeah.”

He laughed softly as he made his way over to the counter beside the stove. “Toss me the cheese and that ham in the top drawer, will ya’?”

“What ya’ cooking?” she asked as she dug out the items he’d requested.

“Breakfast.” He gathered the dishes he needed and grabbed a knife. “You do like omelets, don’t you?”

“Really?” she wanted to know as she stepped up beside him.

He grinned at her as he worked. After a moment, his hands became a blur. When he was done, he was dropping the vegetables in the egg mixture.

“Now that was a little impressive,” she told him as she leaned over on the counter.

“You should see me take out the trash,” he said and waggled his brows.

She laughed at him, watching as he finished their breakfast. When she sat down and took her first bite, she moaned appreciatively. “Yeah, I definitely like you, Kent.”

He laughed as he took a bite of his own breakfast. He definitely liked her.

Too much, he thought as he watched her. His arms and body still tingled where he’d held her. As he watched her eat, he realized that not only was she going to set the reporting world on fire, she’d set him on fire as well.

He was in *big* trouble!

***

Lois was standing in the doorway leading out to Clark’s balcony. She’d showered and changed into the clean clothes she’d brought with her the night before. The sun had finally come up and by now the morning edition of the paper had been delivered to most of downtown Metropolis. She was waiting for Clark to finish his turn in the bathroom so they could face the day.

The phone rang just as Clark stepped back into his bedroom. He threw the towel he was drying his hair with across his shoulder and answered the phone by his bed. “Hello?”

“I’ve already talked to Mayson. The writ she filed last night was signed at five thirty this morning. Ticked Judge Brenner off to no end, but Lois won’t have to go back to jail while all of this is worked out.”

“How did I know you wouldn’t wait until morning to get something done?” he asked Perry.

The older man laughed softly. “Yeah, well, I’ve worked too damn hard to get that girl out of this mess.”

“Yeah,” Clark glanced over at the woman they were discussing. She was still standing in the doorway, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

“Have you seen the paper this morning?”

“Not yet.”

“Boy, she’s something else.” Perry looked at the paper he was holding. “She assured me she had the goods to back this up. And she’s never let me down before.”

“Somehow I don’t think she’s going to this time either.”

“All right. Hightail it down here. She’ll want to see you, too.”

Clark couldn’t stop the smile as he replaced the receiver. Maybe he should have told Perry he’d already seen Lois. She turned and smiled at him. Damn! She had the most gorgeous smile.

He shook his head and began buttoning his shirt. “Sorry. I should have finished dressing in the bathroom,” he told her as he walked over to the closet to find a tie.

“I’m not,” she mumbled as she came over to peer in next to him. “You have good taste in clothes,” she told him.

“Thank you.” He pulled a tie from the hanger.

“Please tell me you’re not wearing that.”

“What’s wrong with my tie?” he asked as he looked down at it.

“It’s the loudest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said and began flipping through the rest on the hanger. “On the other hand, it’s probably the tamest in the bunch.”

“Funny,” he replied as he wrapped the material around his neck and tied it at super speed.

“I wish I’d waited for you to dry my hair,” she told him with a grin.

He chuckled and reached down to grab a pair of shoes.

“Why *do* you have a hair dryer? The black ones,” she pointed out.

“These are black,” he said as he glanced up at her.

“Those,” she indicated with her foot.

“What’s the difference?”

“Put on the shoes, would you?”

He shook his head, but grabbed the pair she’d pointed out. He went over and dug out a pair of socks from his dresser, then sat down on the window seat next to her to put them on. “Should I change my shirt? Or is this one okay?”

“No, no. It goes good with the tan pants.”

Laughing at her, he leaned over to pull his socks on. She watched him while he slipped into his shoes, then tied them.

“Why didn’t you do that fast?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.”

“Your life is so weird,” she observed as she pushed her hand through her hair.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied and stood up. He motioned toward the bathroom. “I need to go comb my hair.” She nodded and he left in a blur, whipping her hair around her face. By the time it settled, he was back.

“Okay, how do you do that without messing it up again?”

He chuckled softly as he whirled around the room straightening up and making the bed.

“I could have done that,” she said as he stopped next to her again.

“Next time,” he said as he grabbed the coat that matched his pants. “You ready?”

She took a deep breath and glanced at the door. “As I’ll ever be.” She stood and followed him into the other room. “Do you mind if we stop by the Apollo hotel for a second?”

“The Apollo?” he asked as he opened the door.

“That’s where I stayed when I first got to the city.”

“You were here before last night?”

“Yeah,” she answered as they walked down the steps and toward the sidewalk.

“I guess we have a bit more talking to do,” he observed as they stepped up to the curb so he could whistle for a cab.

Oh, yeah, she thought as the car stopped in front of them. Wait until you find out I’ve seen the kids, she said to herself silently. Somehow she felt he wouldn’t like that too well.

***

Lois looked up at the Daily Planet almost in awe. It felt like this was the first time she’d seen it. It had been so long since she’d been here. She had butterflies in her stomach as big as birds.

“Ready?” Clark asked as he touched her back gently.

She glanced at him, shifted the bag she held on her shoulder, then nodded. She allowed Clark to guide her in and onto the elevator. They didn’t say anything on the ride up to the news floor, but she had no doubt Clark could hear the blood rushing through her veins. Her heart was about to beat a hole through her chest. By the time the doors opened on the bullpen, she felt lightheaded.

“You okay?” Clark asked her softly.

“Yeah,” she assured him without looking away from the commotion. It was easy to tell a major story had broken. Runners were hurrying here and there, reporters shouting at one another, phones were ringing off the hook. She slowly stepped out to the edge of the rail overlooking the action.

“Please tell me my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me?”

She turned to look into the blue eyes of Jimmy Olsen. “Jimmy,” she breathed as she stepped forward.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, sighing in relief. “Damn, girl, it’s good to see you,” he whispered as he hugged her.

“And you.” She finally drew back so she could see him. “Look at you.” Her hands grasped the sides of his face. “You have grown up on me.”

“How ‘bout you?” His fingers trailed through her long hair. “I have to tell you, Lois, this red is kinda’ sexy on you.”

She laughed as she hugged him again. “I sure have missed you.”

“Oh, God, I’ve missed you, too.” He pulled away and glanced over at Clark. “Don’t tell me you went to that guy first.”

Lois glanced back at the man behind her. “What’s wrong with Kent? He seems to be an all right fellow.”

“I don’t know, Lois. He parades around here as an award-winning journalist, but between you and me, he writes touchy-feely crap.” He and Lois both shuddered, then laughed aloud. He threw his arm around her shoulder and started them down the ramp. “Come on. The old man’s ‘bout to have a cow. I think seeing you will calm him down.”

Clark grinned and followed along behind them. On the way to the Planet he’d called Dr. Klein, who told him to drop by as soon as he could. But he also told him he’d need DNA samples from the twins, too. He planned to fly out in a little while and swab their mouths so that he could find out if they really were his biological children.

And as he watched Lois and Jimmy talk, he decided to push those thoughts away for now. There would be plenty of time to think about that later.

Jimmy pushed the door open to Perry’s office and the older man and Jack looked up from where they were hunched over his desk studying some papers. Jack glanced at the Chief and grinned widely.

“Damn, lady, you don’t how glad we are to see you,” Jack said and walked over to her. “I’m Jack.” He extended his hand.

Lois glanced at the limb, then stepped up to hug the other man. He seemed stunned momentarily, but managed to wrap his arms around her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For sitting on that park bench so many times.” Leaning back, she smiled at him. “And for taking my baby out of that park and away from that monster.”

For once, Jack was speechless. He blinked several times, then nodded. He stepped away from her to allow her time with Perry.

In all of his years in the profession he’d chosen, the profession he’d dreamed of having as a kid, nothing had ever been quite as satisfying as standing in front of the one person he’d longed to see in his office again. Large tears rolled down his cheeks and he sighed, a breath he’d needed to take for years.

Lois ignored the tears spilling from her eyes and crossed the distance to him. She clung to him as tightly as he clung to her, both crying softly.

Clark reached up and tugged on Jack and Jimmy’s sleeves, motioning for them to leave the others alone. All three of the younger men backed out of the office quietly and closed the door. They’d allow Perry and Lois to reunite in private.

“So, how did you find her?” Jack wanted to know as they huddled around Clark’s desk.

“She found me,” he told them. “She was at my place when I got home last night.” Clark sifted through his messages, glancing back at the people in Perry’s office.

Jimmy looked that way, too. “She is something else.” He stepped over to his desk and came back with the morning paper. “Check this out.”

In blazing sixty-point headline was the title: The Fall of the House of Luthor. Below the fold was another equally large headline: Juan Delconto- Modern Day Godfather.

Clark grinned as he read over the articles.

“Two more articles are inside,” Jack told him. “Hell, the first half of the paper is stuff she sent in. Perry says it’s all legit.”

“It is, Jack,” Clark said as he continued to read. How had she done this? She knew details they’d only dreamed of knowing. Of course, a lot of what they’d learned was there, but details they hadn’t suspected were clearly outlined. She’d named people, places, times- crimes that had gone unsolved. He’d looked into a couple of the events she’d mentioned himself only to hit a dead end. He glanced at the office again. She and Perry were talking.

“Is that her?”

Clark and the guys looked up to see Mayson coming down the ramp.

“The one and only,” Jimmy spoke up.

“Is all of this true?” she asked of the paper she held as she made it to their side.

“Perry says it is.”

Mayson looked toward the office. “The red hair suits her. No doubt she dyed it so she could blend in. If what she’s written here is any indication, she’s been snooping around for a while.”

Clark had just finished the articles and he nodded his agreement. “If she’d been caught…”

“That’s Lois,” Jimmy said. “She has a way of getting information you’re sure she should have died getting.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she’d manage it,” Mayson said. “The woman I met in that prison was *not* this woman.” She shook the paper to indicate what she meant.

“Guess she finally decided that somewhere inside Mad Dog was still alive,” Jimmy added. He looked over Mayson’s shoulder when Perry motioned for them. “I think they want us to come back.”

Perry was laughing happily when the others came back in. Lois was sitting in his chair, grinning widely. “Here’s what you need to corroborate everything in those articles,” Perry said and tossed Jimmy a flash drive. “Copy it all and bring it back to me. Henderson will need some of that.”

“Got it, Chief.”

“Mayson, we’ll need some of those pictures of the compound- pre and post war.”

“I’ll email them to Jimmy.” She stepped forward and held out her hand to Lois. “It’s good to see you on this side of the fence.”

Lois shook it with a smile. “It’s good to be on this side.” She held the hand a second longer. “Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Mayson told her sincerely. When she drew her hand away, she looked up at Perry. “If I help bring a smile to that man’s face…”

Lois looked up at him. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Perry rubbed her shoulder, refusing to get more than a few feet away from her. “Now, Jack, get Henderson down here. And, Clark, since you don’t need me to buy you a plane ticket, I’d appreciate you flying back to Spain and following up on what she’s got. Find out everything that’s going on there.”

Lois’ eyes moved over to Clark, who nodded his consent. “Hold on.” She leaned forward and put her arms on the desk. Looking directly at Clark, she asked, “He knows?”

Clark reached over and closed the door. “They all do,” he told her.

“Well, damn. Here I thought I knew something nobody else did,” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

“You know?” Perry asked her.

“Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t be a person in my position if I didn’t know,” she repeated something he’d said to them all more than one time. Everyone laughed aloud at that.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Perry said.

“Well, since you all know… Clark has to see Bernie in a little while. We think he can prove who the twins’ biological father is.”

They all stared at Lois. “Really?” Perry was the one to say. “Why does Clark…?”

“I told you they looked like you,” Jack interrupted the older man’s question, slapping Clark on the arm.

Clark chuckled at his reaction. He knew Jack would say ‘told you so’.

“Wait. I’m not following,” Jimmy spoke up.

“Clark was engaged to Paul Lang’s daughter years ago. She knew about him and they wanted Paul to test to see if they could have children together because of their differences,” Lois began the explanation.

“And he used the sample Clark gave him to test,” Mayson finished for her.

“Yeah,” Lois confirmed. “When Lex went to him to help him have another son- he helped impregnate Arianna so Leslie could be born, too- he decided to double-cross Lex. Lex believed the twins were clones. He’d ordered them created so he could have his son, but so he could sell the knowledge at the same time. He didn’t bargain on twins and certainly not on one of them being a girl. Although when I got her out of there, he was going to give her to Paul. Paul told me he would have sold her to Church. And by the time anyone knew she wasn’t really a clone, he would have disappeared.”

“Thank God you had the presence of mind to get her out of there,” Perry said as he leaned on the corner of the desk.

“Yeah,” she said as she looked away from Clark. They’d been staring at one another.

“I guess the two of you and I need to have a conference,” Mayson said as she checked her watch. “Let me know when Bernie has the results, Clark.”

“I will.”

“Lois, you are needed at a hearing this morning to have the charges against you officially cleared.”

“Okay.” She stood up and looked around. “Thank you all for everything you’ve done.”

“Are you kidding? Perry would have fired us,” Jack spoke up.

They all laughed.

“This guy’s full of…”

“Get out here,” Perry interrupted Jimmy’s remark. “Get yourself cleared so we can get back to work. You *are* coming back to work?”

“I think I want to,” she told him as she stepped around the desk. “But I need a little time to gather myself together first. Maybe a couple of weeks?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I think the owner would be all right with that.”

She grinned at Perry. “I still can’t believe you bought the Planet.”

“As much blood, sweat, and tears as I’ve put into this place, I figured it might as well be mine.”

Lois leaned over to hug him again. “Well, I’d be honored to work for you, Mr. White.”

He laughed softly. “Can that crap.” He stood and looked at the others. “Don’t you all have something to do?”

Jack and Jimmy said good-bye to Lois and left so they could get to work. Lois looked over at Clark. “Are you heading out, too?”

“Yeah. I need to get a swab from the twins before I see Bernie.” She nodded. “Will I see you later?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d let me hang out at your place until we get the results.”

“You know where the spare key’s at,” he told her with a smile as they exited Perry’s office.

“Are you kidding? I picked the lock.” When he looked at her, she shrugged. “I wanted to see if I could still do it.”

“Look under the black flower pot, would you?” He patted her shoulder and stepped over to his desk.

“You have my desk?” she wanted to know as she ran a hand over the surface.

“I’ll be more than happy to give it back to you,” he informed her as he looked through the mail that had been dropped off already.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take that one,” she told him, pointing to the empty desk across the isle. “Start fresh. Create something new.”

He looked up at her, a soft smile on his lips. “I think that’s a great idea.”

She smiled back, then reached to pick up a picture he had sitting on his desk. It was one of the twins taken at their birthday party. “I’ve missed both of them,” she whispered.

“Lois, don’t do that. It won’t do you a bit of good to keep looking back.”

“I know. It’s just…” She set the frame back down and looked up at him, taking a deep breath for courage.

“I know,” he informed her.

And he did. Or at least he understood. How was that possible? How was it a man she didn’t know could make her feel so at ease?

Feel so alive?

Glancing away, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I guess Mayson’s ready,” she said as the other woman came out of Perry’s office and headed for them.

“Yeah.” Clark reached out to squeeze her arm. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” She looked at him another moment before she stepped around him and went with Mayson. The sooner she got her life back, the sooner she could start to live again.

But how exactly did she do that? How did she begin to rebuild herself? When she wasn’t sure who she was anymore?

***

Clark landed in the back yard near the barn and smiled at his playing children. They had noticed him and were off at a full run toward him. He bent and caught them both, hugging and kissing each as he stood back up. Both were chattering away as he crossed the lawn to the blanket his mother sat on where they had been playing. It was nice out and Martha had decided to take advantage of it.

“You did?” Clark asked Perry. She told him she’d learned to ride her bike… or at least he thought that was what she’d said. She talked much more clearly than Collin, but when she was excited, it was hard to understand everything she said.

He set them on their feet and they were off again. He waited until they were on the swing set before he sat down with his mom.

“I didn’t know you were coming out today, son.”

“Yeah.” He watched the kids for several more moments before he looked at his mom.

“What?”

“Lois is back.”

“Back?”

“Out of prison, in a hearing as we speak to clear her of the charges against her. Luthor was found and is in jail.”

Martha sat for a moment before her eyes drifted over to the twins. “It’s too soon,” she said softly. “I’m not ready to give them up.”

“Mom, don’t.”

“Don’t what? I can’t help it, Clark. Those kids are my life. And you can’t tell me you’re okay with handing them back over.”

“No, I’m not.” He sighed and looked back at them. “But I might not have to.”

“What?”

This time when he looked at her, he was grinning. “Lana found another diary that her father left in his safe. In it, Paul claims the twins are mine.”

Martha’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Remember when Lana and I were talking about getting married?”

“The tests Paul ran for you,” she finished for him. She remembered what a difficult time it had been for Clark. When Paul had told them Clark would never be able to father children, Clark had been devastated. He was so sure that if he married Lana, he would ruin her life. The woman had stolen Martha’s heart when she’d declared that it didn’t matter if they ever had children. She just loved Clark. It had broken Martha’s heart when they’d split up, but she’d come to realize since then that Lana hadn’t been her son’s soul mate.

“Apparently Paul lied to us so that Lana and I would separate. He didn’t exactly appreciate my differences.”

Martha gazed over at the twins. “And he said he used your sample?”

“That’s what he claims.” Clark reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic bag Bernie had given him. “Dr. Klein is going to run a DNA test to make sure. I have to swab the inside of their cheeks.”

“How soon before we know?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully.” He grinned at his mother. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Oh, honey.” She covered her mouth with her hand as tears filled her eyes. “Blood or not, they’re ours.”

“I know, Mom. But wouldn’t it be nice to know they really are mine?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just stood and went to play with his twins. He’d get his sample, but right now he wanted to see if he could hear them laugh.

***

Bernie shook his head as he pushed the long swab into the plastic tube. “I still can’t believe this,” he said as Clark closed his mouth.

“You?”

The older man looked at him. “Yeah. I guess this is a bit surreal for you.”

“Just a bit.”

“I’ll try to have this done by tomorrow morning. It usually takes forty-eight hours, but I’ll work through the night. I’m as anxious to see this situation come to a conclusion as I’m sure you are.”

“Thanks, Bernie,” Clark told him as he clapped his arm. He hadn’t told Bernie that he was Superman, or even super, just that he had been engaged to Paul’s daughter once and the man insisted on running fertility tests before he’d allow Clark to marry his daughter. Dr. Klein thought Paul was a mad scientist, like everyone else.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know.”

He thanked Bernie again and headed back to the Planet. He caught up on a few things before flying out to Spain. He’d wanted to see Lois before he left but she was apparently still with Mayson. By the time afternoon wound into evening in Metropolis, Clark was letting himself into his apartment.

“Hey. I was wondering when you might get here.”

Lois was sitting on the sofa, her bare feet propped on the coffee table. She’d raided his clothes again, sporting a pair of his shorts and another of his tee shirts. She was flipping through his photo album and nursing her second beer, if the empty bottles were an indication of how many she’d had.

“Do you not have any clothes of your own?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Not many,” she said as she looked back down at the book.

Damn! He shouldn’t have said that. She’d been in prison for… well, since she’d left the Planet. Of course she didn’t have many clothes!

He took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry. That was…”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not. Your clothes are comfortable.”

His eyes met hers and they smiled at one another. “Then wear whatever you want,” he told her as he pulled off his tie.

“Leave that shirt on the dresser.”

He stopped halfway to the kitchen, his brows rising toward his hair.

“I like the color,” she told him, again looking at the photos. Her eyes flashed to his for a moment and he could see the amusement in them. He shook his head and continued his journey into the kitchen.

“You hungry?”

“Yep. I would have ordered take-out, but I was broke after I bought you more beer.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he told her as he stood up from his perusal of the items in his fridge.

“I drank it all.”

“I could have bought more.”

“How did you get so much money?” she asked as she closed the book and placed it on the cushion beside her.

“Well…” He closed the door to the fridge and walked over to sit down on the coffee table in front of her. “You know that Luthor was born Alexander Luckaby.” It wasn’t a question; her article proved she knew. “He filed the marriage to you and Collin’s birth in Australia under his given name. The lawyers for the Franklin Luckaby estate felt that since Collin and Perry were legally the grandchildren of Franklin…”

“That they should have the money?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah. They have huge, huge trusts waiting on them when they graduate college. More for school, their weddings, and an obscene amount for their care. Mayson called me earlier and said that since Alexander’s been found, and so has the money he inherited from Collin’s birth, the estate lawyers are going to amend the settlement.”

“They want the money back?”

“Ah, no. They are going to increase the trusts, the monthly care payments, and they want to talk to you about an appropriate amount for you.”

“For me?” He nodded. “They want to what? Give me hush money?”

“I felt the same way, but then I thought, what the hell? Somebody should pay for what he did to you.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Think of it this way. You can give Luthor something to think about while he rots in Striker’s.”

“What?”

“Tell him. Tell him that the money he worked so damn hard for is where it should be- in your bank account.”

Slowly a grin crept across her face. “Wouldn’t it just rub him raw to know that I was spending his precious money?”

“It would,” he agreed with a grin of his own.

She looked at him for a moment before she patted his leg. “Well, since you’re loaded, why don’t you order us some seafood? I’d love a great, big lobster. Ooo, and scallops! The last time I had scallops was when I snuck one from Bobbie’s bag right before…” She stopped, her grin fading.

“You ate from Bobbie’s bag and got away with it?” he asked, recognizing immediately her withdrawal at the mention of the past.

“Oh, no. He knew I’d eaten one. Please don’t tell me Bobbie is your source now?”

He was glad to see her perk right back up when he changed the subject. “‘Fraid so. Jimmy introduced us.”

“Traitor,” she said and sat back.

“How about an admiral’s platter from Callard’s?”

“You don’t really have to buy seafood,” she told him, although she hoped he would.

He waved her off and reached over for the phone on the table beside the couch. He ordered an admiral’s platter with plenty of garlic/cheese bread. “I’ll grab a slab of chocolate cake at the Fudge Castle on the way to pick it up,” he said as he put the phone back.

“Thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and lifted the photo album back up. “Hope you don’t mind that I took this out.”

“You wear my clothes and you think I’d be upset because you looked at my pictures?” He laughed wryly as he stood up and headed toward his bedroom.

She shook her head in amusement as he disappeared. Lying back on the sofa, she clicked on the television. When Clark came back in, she was flipping through the channels. She almost gasped when she looked up at him. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a tight, white muscle shirt. And he was wearing flip flops. It should have been illegal for a man to look the way he did at that moment. He’d left his glasses off and when their eyes met, she didn’t try to hide her admiration.

Damn! He’s modest, she thought as a deep blush crept up his neck and face.

She grinned at him, a bit different than the ones she’d been giving him, then blinked and pointed at the TV. “I guess the world knows Lois Lane is back.”

Clark had to remind himself to breathe before he could look away from her. He was male and there was absolutely no way he could have mistaken the look she’d just given him. Lois liked the way he was dressed and told him without saying a word. Of course, he liked the way she was dressed, too, but had desperately covered his appreciation. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable around him. Somehow he felt flirting with her would definitely spook her, but obviously she wasn’t a bit shy about flirting with him.

Every news channel had the same thing on. They were covering Lex Luthor’s rise from the grave, Lois’ overturned conviction, and the disbandment of the Delconto Organization.

“Looks like you’re a household name,” Clark observed as station after station talked about her cracking the case.

Clark glanced at the clock on the wall because he’d taken his watch off already. “I should head out to get the food. You want to go?”

“Nah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Too comfy.”

He chuckled at her and checked his pocket to make sure he had his keys. He went back to the bedroom to grab his glasses, then jogged up the steps to the door. “Back in twenty.”

“I’ll be here.”

The entire way to Callard’s all he could think about was how good that woman looked lying on his couch. His clothes were a little big on her, but couldn’t have been sexier. She had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was small, too small if you asked him, even if her muscles were well toned. Her skin was tanned, a testament to her recent proximity to the beach. The red hair looked good on her, although her natural dark brown would be even more gorgeous, especially long. When he’d seen her at the prison, her hair was shorter.

No matter how good she looked in his house, right now she needed a friend. Lois might be showing a strong exterior, but inside she was a mess. The fact that she so easily broke down with him that morning proved that. And that was just the beginning. How much worse would she get? She hadn’t even seen the twins yet. How would she react when she did? It bothered him that she hadn’t said much about them, though he hadn’t missed the expression on her face when she was looking at the pictures earlier. She loved her kids. Yet she was lost. He just hoped he could help her find her way again. Everything else would have to wait.

***

When he got back, Lois had made sweet tea and set the table.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, looking up from where she stood on the other side of the table. “I haven’t sat down to a meal at a real table since I went to Perry’s for Christmas the year before I… left. I don’t count dinners with Lex. Or eating at a prison table.”

“I thought you were comfy on the couch,” he said as he dug their meal out of the bag and set it on the empty end of the table.

“I was, but…” She shrugged and poured their tea. “I was full of alcohol, too.”

“Tea’s fine.” He took out the huge lobster he’d ordered. “How ‘bout a piece of tail?”

“Well, sure, if you’re offering.” When he dropped the lobster on the plate, and nearly fell over in shock, she bent over laughing. “Damn, you have a dirty mind!”

“Like you didn’t mean it that way,” he defended himself, the heat from his face burning him up.

She laughed another second, then took a breath. “No comment.”

His hand slipped, nearly causing him to push the lobster in the floor. “Shut up, will you?” he finally managed when he recovered enough to stop his hands from shaking.

Lois bit her lip as she helped him serve up their food. She didn’t say anything else until they were seated and she’d taken the first bite of her lobster. “Ah, wow!”

“Good?” he asked, dipping some of the shellfish in the butter that came with their meal.

“Fantastic!”

He kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was definitely one of a kind. Bold, brazen, and uninhibited- a lot like Jack. Having her around was going to be an adventure.

At least, he hoped she was going to be around.

“Should I crack that for you?” he asked her when she started to struggle with the shell.

“Yeah. Do your… thingy and get all the meat out.” She dropped the lobster on her plate and looked at him expectantly.

He grinned before reaching for her plate. His hands became a blur and when he handed it back, a pile of lobster meat was lying to one side, the shell on the other.

“Thank you,” she said and picked up the plate to push the shell onto the empty tray. “Now I have room for everything else.”

Clark chuckled as he continued his meal. They ate in silence for a long while. He smiled at her audible approval of her food from time to time, pleased to see her eat so well.

“Sorry about eating like a mad woman. We only had ten minutes to swallow our garbage while I was in Glendale.” She’d eaten twice as much as he had.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. In fact, he wasn’t sure what to talk about at all with her. The twins, sure, but he wanted her to be the one to mention them. And in the next breath, she did.

“How soon before we know if your little swimmers hit their target?”

How many times had he shaken his head in disbelief where this woman was concerned? She was hilarious! “Tomorrow.”

She nodded and stuffed another shrimp in her mouth. “Do you think maybe we could… see them soon?”

“I can go get them now, if you want me to.”

Looking down at her plate, she suddenly felt lightheaded. There was nothing she wanted more than to see her babies, but at the same time…

“I, ah, I’d like to wait, until we know,” she told him without lifting her eyes from her plate.

“Lois, I can’t begin to pretend I know how you feel…”

“Good, because I’m not sure I know myself.” She quickly scarfed down the rest of her meal and stood up to take her plate to the kitchen. When she turned, Clark was standing there.

“Don’t bottle it up. Let it out, whenever you need to.”

She stared at him, stubborn tears spilling over her lashes. “It’s just so unfair,” she whispered.

“I know.” He reached out to grasp her arm.

Wiping her face stubbornly, she sighed heavily. “Look, I will probably take you up on that offer so much, you’ll get tired of wet shirts. But tonight, I’d like to talk about something else, anything else. As much I need to break down from time to time, I need to laugh and smile, too.”

“Perry was right.” She quirked a brow at him. “You are a brilliant woman.” His eyes danced in amusement, causing her to laugh softly.

“Have I told you I like you?”

“Yeah, a time or two.”

She pushed him against his chest. “Go finish your dinner so I can wash these dishes.”

“You don’t have to wash the dishes.”

“I want to do it.”

He was about to protest again, but the look in her eyes changed his mind. She needed to do this simple thing. So much had been taken away from her and this was one way she was using to feel whole again. He nodded and went back to his meal while she started the dishwater. A few minutes later, he dropped his plate in the pile of suds and smiled at her. He allowed her to finish while he put away the extra food. The plate he’d ordered came with enough for an entire family.

“Ready for that chocolate?” he asked when the table was clear.

“Can we eat it in the living room?”

“Sure. How about a glass of milk to go with it?” She gave him her approval with a nod of her head and finished wiping down the counters. When she made it to the couch, Clark was already eating his cake and watching baseball.

“Oh, no. A sports freak,” she commented as she sat and pulled her leg under her.

“Funny,” he mumbled around a mouth full of cake. “We can watch something else,” he said when he’d swallowed.

“No, this is fine.” She put a piece of cake in her mouth and sighed. “This is, too.”

He chuckled softly, taking a drink of his milk before he sat back.

“I thought Superman ran around saving people,” Lois said as she turned on the couch to face him, pulling her other leg up, too.

“He does. But Clark needs to lay around watching baseball every now and then.”

She could understand that. “It must be so hard being you.”

“It was before I created Superman. I was able to do all of these wonderful things to help people, yet I wasn’t.”

“For fear that someone would figure you out?”

“Yeah. What kind of life would I have if the world knew Clark Kent was also an alien from another planet?”

“None,” she answered. She glanced at the television and a news brief came on about the very person they were just talking about. “Must be odd to see yourself like that.”

“And all over every kid’s toy, tee shirt, and billboard in the city,” he finished as he leaned back to lay his head on the couch.

“Oh, God! I can’t believe I didn’t remember that!” She reached out to grab his arm, her excitement running through her and straight into him. “Clark, do you know how you got here?”

“To Earth?” She nodded. “Yeah. A spaceship. Duh!” he said in a mocking tone.

“Bite me,” she threw right back at him. He was about to shoot another smart comment at her, but her hand covered his mouth. “Do you have your ship?”

“I did,” he answered when she moved her hand. “It was stolen from the farm years ago.”

“I know where it is,” she told him, almost shaking. “Or where it was. It might still be there. We can look, of course. And you probably will. Although it’s been over four years. They could have moved it by now.” She stopped when he grinned at her. “I know. I babble.”

“Babble away. I like hearing you talk.”

“Do you want to hear about the ship or not?” She quirked her brow at him.

“Okay. Tell me.” He shifted so that his arm was propped on the back of the couch and he held his head with his hand.

“Jimmy and I were checking out this quack one time. Or I thought he was a quack. But since you’re here, and can do what you do, he might not have been a quack after all. There was a warehouse with all of this… junk in it. There was what appeared to be a spaceship there with your shield on the nose.”

Clark perked up when she mentioned his shield. He rose and walked over to the bookshelf, retrieved a piece of paper and pencil, then draw a picture at super speed. “Did it look like this?” he asked her when he was done.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Jimmy told me about it once,” Clark replied as he went in to his bedroom. When he came back, he was holding a round, metal ball.

“That’s the globe we found.”

Clark sat down next to her and held it up. It immediately began to glow. She jumped when the hologram of Clark’s birth father appeared. Sitting mesmerized, she listened to the messages from father to son sent across time and space.

“Wow,” she whispered when it fell dark and dropped back into Clark’s palm.

“Jimbo gave this to me right after he told me about the warehouse. We went to check it out, but it was empty.”

“They had a file on Smallville.” He nodded that he knew. “I remember thinking, ‘where the hell is Smallville?’” They both laughed softly.

“Guess I should be happy that particular lead ran dry.”

“Damn right. Mad Dog would have…” She stopped and looked at him. “I’m glad it ran dry, too,” she told him seriously. “Back then I wouldn’t have thought twice about ruining your life.”

“Back then? Would you think twice now?”

“You can’t possibly think I’d tell any…” She stopped again as she took a deeper look into his eyes. “I didn’t give them away.”

“I know you didn’t. And I had no intention of mentioning, but…” He looked away and sighed. “Please don’t take them away from me,” he whispered.

Lois leaned up and rubbed his back. He’d sat down and leaned over to place his elbows on his knees. “Why would I take them away from their daddy?”

Clark’s head snapped around and his eyes met hers. “I hope we’re adult enough to work something out.”

“Clark?” She waited until she had his attention. “We’ll work something out.” When she saw the relief wash over him, she wanted to reach out and hug him. He was adorable.

Lois became aware that she was still rubbing his back. She glanced at her hand, but didn’t move it. He didn’t seem to mind either.

Clark finally managed to take a breath and looked down at the table. He’d been worried about losing the twins.

Well, not worried exactly. But to hear her say she wouldn’t take them…

He closed his eyes and suddenly became aware that she was touching him. And it felt *so* good. When he looked up, she was staring at the table, too. “I have a penny or two,” he said after a brief silence.

Lois blinked, patted his back, and smiled at him. “Not tonight.”

“Okay,” he relented. He felt bereft when she pulled her hand off his back. She sighed and laid her head over on the couch so she could look at him.

“Thanks for sharing that.” She indicated the globe with a pointed finger.

“Thanks for not ratting me out.” They laughed as he stood up to take the globe back to the bedroom. “Hey, I was thinking maybe you might want to go shopping. Grab a few things you might need.”

“What’s a matter, Kent? You want your clothes back?” She grinned at him as he sat back down. “I can give them to you.”

Clark reached out and placed his hands on hers to stop the progression of material up her body. She was going to give the shirt back. “Keep it on.”

Her eyes twinkled as she lowered her hands. “That modesty thing really works for you.” He promptly blushed more, causing her to giggle. “I wish I’d met you five years ago.”

“Yeah? So you could have taken a bite out of my steel butt? No, thank you.” He threw his feet up so he could prop them on the coffee table.

“You’re right. Mad Dog was a different person. I would have thought that blush was an act.”

“It’s a practiced art,” he said as he leaned back again.

She laughed aloud. “I can see that.” This time she was the one to lean her arm on the back of the cushions. “So, tell me what team you like?” She indicated with her head that she was asking about his taste in baseball teams.

And he saw it as her need to unwind. He told her which teams he liked in the college arena as well as pro. While she seemed genuinely interested, he could tell part of her mind was a million miles away. He kept talking about sports, then told her what his favorite movies were. Television shows, game shows, and music- they discussed everything in the world that wasn’t related to Luthor. She’d talk soon, he decided, and when she did, he would listen.

He would listen for days if she needed him to.

***

The next morning started much the same way it had before. Clark felt like someone was watching him and when he opened his eyes, Lois was staring at him.

“Please tell me you don’t do that all the time,” he said, burrowing himself deeper into the cushions. He’d been out as Superman for a while and he was tired.

“What? Watch people while they sleep?”

“Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“Nah, just those who float.”

He opened his eyes again, a smile on his face. “My mom used to squeal every time she’d come in to get me up for school and I’d be three feet above the bed.”

Lois chuckled at the thought of a poor mother finding her son in the air instead of on his mattress. “I can see that.” She took a sip from the water bottle she was holding.

Clark noticed she’d changed into a pair of his sweats and appeared flushed. “How long have you been up?”

“Nearly an hour. I had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I went for a run.”

He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. “I guess I was more wiped out than I thought.” He flung an arm across his forehead.

“Guess I should have let you sleep.”

“No, no. It’s okay.”

“Was it bad?”

He pulled his arm down and turned his head so he could look at her. “Huh?”

“I heard you go out. And when you came in you sighed a few times on your way in here after your shower. I figured you’d been to a rescue.”

“Yeah.” He rolled back onto his side. “A little boy was caught in the crossfire of his father’s drug deal. He was shot three times.”

“Oh, God,” she said with a gasp. “Is he… did he die?”

Clark stared at a spot over her shoulder for a moment before he nodded in the affirmative. “He was dead before I got there. His mother was so fried she didn’t know what planet she was on and his father said ‘good riddance’.”

“You’re kidding?!”

“I wish I was.” He blinked several times before his eyes finally focused on hers.

“Is he still alive?” she asked him, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips.

Her attempt to lighten his mood worked and he smiled back. “Only because of my incredible restraint.”

“I would have choked him with my bare hands,” she said and took another gulp from her bottle.

“I believe it.” He reached over his left shoulder with his right hand trying to scratch an itch. He grunted when he couldn’t quite reach it, and Lois leaned over to help him out. “Down,” he said. Leaning forward to search out his discomfort brought her closer to him. She looked directly at him, her face only inches from his.

“Is that it?” she asked him after watching him struggle with her close proximity a second.

His eyes flashed down to her lips for the briefest second before focusing on hers again. “Ah, yeah,” he managed, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Even though he said she’d found the spot, she didn’t move- just kept scratching. “How is that you can feel an itch then you can catch a bullet with this thick skin?” Her hand moved to another spot.

“Ahh,” he breathed, closing his eyes to gain a bit of control. Having her that close was threatening to send his senses into overdrive. “Aura,” he said after a beat.

“Aura?” Her lips were quirked in a knowing grin. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she didn’t stop.

“Uh huh,” he told her, refusing to open his eyes. “Like a force field around me.”

“That’s what protects you?”

“Yep.” He had to bite his lip to keep from grunting. What she was doing felt good, even if it was about to drive him mad to have her so close.

“And how is it a simple thing like someone scratching your back feels so good?”

“Because you’re in it.”

“Oh, baby, I’m no where close.”

That made him open his eyes to look at her. And he wished he hadn’t. The little devil knew exactly what she was doing to him. What would she do if he closed the distance and kissed her the way he wanted to? He should- just to crawl under her skin the way she did his. That little glint in her dark orbs nearly set him on fire. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she told him, grinning wider. Her hand stopped scratching and smoothed down over his side.

“Are you this bold all the time? Or do you just trust me enough to play with fire?”

This time it was Lois who swallowed the lump in her throat. Her grin faded and she pulled her hand from his side as she eased back down to the floor.

“Hey,” he said as he pushed himself up on his elbow. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” She took another drink of water. “I guess I should stop messing with you.”

“I wasn’t implying that you stop.” Damn! He shouldn’t have said anything. He enjoyed her flirting, even if it was sending him into a perpetual state of arousal.

“Sheez, aren’t we indecisive?” The grin was back as she quirked a brow at him.

He chuckled at her. “I like it that you feel so comfortable with me. But you have to know that it *does* affect me.”

“Yeah, I know,” she told him, the flirting glint back in her eyes. “As long as you know I do it because *you* affect me.”

All humor was gone. His expression was immediately serious, and he could feel the electricity jump between them.

“And yeah,” she said as she continued to stare at him. “I guess I do trust you.” She looked away and laughed softly. “Crazy, huh? I barely know you, but I think I’ve trusted you from the first time I saw you.” She picked at a string on the rug.

“No crazier than me feeling as equally comfortable with you,” he said softly.

Her head came up and her eyes met his again. “Really?”

“Yeah. You might drive me crazy, but I think I can live with it.” The corner of his mouth edged into a half smile. “As long as you know that I *am* a man.”

Her eyes swept his body approvingly. “How well I know,” she mumbled as she stood up.

“You do know I can hear you?”

“You do know I want you to?” she shot right back, brow arched in challenge.

That caused him to laugh. Yeah, he knew.

She turned up her bottle again on her way toward the bedroom.

“Where ya’ going?”

“To take a shower,” she said as she wiped her mouth without turning around. “Want to wash my back?” Her grin threatened to split her face when she heard him laugh again. She absolutely adored that man. Why was that? Why had a strange man from another planet gotten so far under her skin in such a short time?

And he hadn’t done it on purpose. He was just… there. Lois suspected what made him so attractive had nothing to do with his alien side. There was something about him so completely different than any man she’d ever met. It was as if she could feel him.

Crazy, she thought as she stripped and stepped into the shower stall. People didn’t *feel* other people. Yet the more she was around Clark, the more she actually thought she did. Did that have anything to do with the fact that they shared children together? Was it some weird alien thing on his part? When they’d been so close out there, it was all she’d been able to do to keep from leaning forward and kissing him. He was so beautiful. Another strange thing to think of a man, although it was the only way she could describe him. Whatever it was, Lois liked this Clark Kent.

And she loved messing with him.

It wasn’t that long ago Lois thought she’d never feel anything remotely similar to desire for a man again. Clark Kent had changed that. He’d set her on fire with his mere presence. And she knew she was playing with fire messing with him so boldly. She just couldn’t stop herself. No, she’d never been like this around any man, though she’d always been direct. In the past, if she was interested, she showed it. If she wasn’t, she was honest about that, too. Flirting and flaunting her femininity had just never been part of who she was.

Was that another testament to how much she’d changed?

Glancing toward the door, she found herself wishing he really would come wash her back. She knew he wouldn’t, but…

Reminding herself what a screwed up mess she was right now, she told herself Clark Kent couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Well, maybe for one reason, but that was because she’d worked him into a frenzy. Even as she thought that she knew it wasn’t true. Clark was different.

But as different as he was there was so much in front of her right now. No man needed the complication being involved with her would surely bring.

***

Another call for Superman pulled Clark from the couch after Lois went to shower. On the way back he stopped and grabbed breakfast. He stepped into the bedroom to grab some clothes when Lois came out of the bathroom. She was wrapped in his robe, drying her hair with a towel.

And she looked just as good as she did in his shorts.

“Hey,” she said as she made her way over to the dresser.

“Hey.”

“Shower’s all yours.”

“Breakfast is on the counter.”

“Thanks.” She pulled the towel down and dug around in her bag.

“What’s wrong?” he asked of her expression.

“I have *got* to get some clothes. I can’t wear your sweats in public.”

“Well, you *could*,” he said with a sly smile.

She let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, you’d like that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled as he rooted around in his closet for a pair of pants.

“You do know I can hear you?” she repeated what he’d told her earlier.

“You do know I want you to?” he shot right back.

She laughed softly as she went back to drying her hair. “Think maybe I could wash my underwear?”

“That might be a good idea. Somehow I don’t think mine would look quite the same on you,” he said as he decided on a pair of slacks.

Lois let her eyes glide over his backside. “No, I don’t believe they would.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the way she said that. He turned and dropped his pants on the bed, along with a shirt. “What happened to all of your things when you…?” He stopped, unable to utter those words.

“Lost my mind?” she finished for him. He made a face, still not able to voice what he meant. She stopped moving the towel and furrowed her brows. “You know, I’m not sure. I know I moved them to the penthouse. Of course, where my stuff went from the penthouse is anybody’s guess. I wasn’t able to take anything with me to prison. Had to buy it all right there.” She stopped drying her hair again. “You don’t know anything about how money appeared in my account every week, do you?”

“I’d say ask Perry,” Clark said and turned away from her.

“Yeah, well, I know he was the one putting it there to begin with, but funny thing happened. It increased shortly after the first time I met you.”

“That *is* strange,” he commented as he flipped through his shirts.

“Yeah,” she replied with a hint of a smile on her face.

“I’ll get Jack to look into where your stuff’s disappeared to,” he said when he turned back around. She was drying her hair again, thank goodness.

“He seems like a good kid.”

“He is. He and his brother, Denny were homeless for a while after their parents died, and he stole to feed them. But he’s grown up a lot.”

“Not this shirt,” she told him as she picked it up from where he’d tossed it on the bed.

“Why not? I always wear that shirt with those pants.” He placed his hands on his hips and stared at her.

“Because I’m gonna wear it,” she replied with a smile.

“Really?”

“Yep.” She walked over to his closet and pulled out a belt. “Too big,” she mumbled and put it back. She rummaged through his selection for a moment before she sighed. “I need to gain a few pounds,” she decided. When she looked at him, he turned away. “I suppose you think I’m just fine. Nice and thin, the way most men prefer.”

“I’m not most men,” Clark said as he stuck his wallet in his back pocket. He’d changed into a pair of jeans when he’d come back from his rescue earlier.

“Does that mean you think I could use a few extra pounds?”

“Yeah,” he told her as he looked back at her. “You are a little small.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Does that mean you like big women?”

“What?” he asked her.

“Well?”

He shook his head, again, and searched out his flip flops. “I don’t think liking a person has a thing to do with their size. I’m more attracted to a person’s personality.” He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom when he finished speaking.

“You’re attracted to my personality?” she asked him.

“Oh yeah,” he said with a grin and headed into the living room to pick up his glasses from the coffee table.

“Where ya’ going?” she wanted to know as she followed him into the other room.

“To buy you some clothes.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a snort.

“Would you prefer to wear my robe?” he wanted to know as he stopped at the bottom of the landing.

“Well, no…”

“Okay, then.” He jogged up the steps and reached for the doorknob. “Back in twenty.” He left her standing there with her mouth half open, whatever she was going to say stuck in her throat.

Buying her some clothes was a good excuse to get some air. Being near Lois sent his equilibrium into a tailspin. What he’d felt earlier when she was messing with him was hard to describe. Torture was the word that came to mind. He’d felt desire before. He’d acted on his desires, fulfilled them. Yet one look at her and he’d realized he’d never even been close. The powerful surge he felt from her actually scared him. It had taken every ounce of willpower to keep from touching her, tasting her. She’d been so close. Her full, inviting lips seemed to call to him. When she’d drawn away, he was both relieved and disappointed.

And now all he wanted was to be close to her again. He was like a drowning man who had gotten a fresh breath of air. He wanted more. *Needed* more. From what she said she felt something for him. Thrilled and apprehensive all at the same time, he knew he’d have to tread carefully. Lois had a long way to go to climb out of the emotional abyss she was trapped in.

There were also two other people to think about. But maybe their mutual attraction to one another was a good thing where the kids were concerned. It sure couldn’t hurt.

***

Lois had just finished drying her hair when the phone rang. Thinking maybe she should let the machine answer, she headed into the living room. By the third ring, her impatience ran out and she picked up the receiver beside the couch.

“Hello?”

“Ah, yes. I need to speak to Clark, please.”

“He’s not in. Could I take a message?”

“Tell him Bernie Klein called…”

“Dr. Klein, it’s Lois.” She was glad to hear his voice. He’d once been someone she liked and looked to for help from time to time.

“Lois! How are you? I read the articles. Great stuff. Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Bernie,” she said with a smile. “You needed to speak with Clark?” she prompted. Bernie had a tendency to be a bit scatter-brained if you didn’t keep him on topic.

“Oh, yes. I have some results for him.”

“Good results?” she asked, her heart suddenly slamming against her chest. She hadn’t realized until just now how important it was for the twins to be Clark’s.

“Well, I think so. He *has* been raising them and they call him daddy…”

“Yes?” she asked him loudly, tears filling her eyes.

“Yes,” he said, the smile apparent in his voice. “Without question.”

“Lois? What’s wrong?”

She turned to see Clark standing behind her, concerned eyes looking at her.

“It’s Bernie,” she said and held out the phone.

He didn’t know whether her tears were a good thing or bad thing. He almost didn’t want to answer the call.

Almost.

His eyes never left Lois’ as he stepped closer and took the receiver. “Bernie? It’s Clark.”

“Clark, good. I’m glad I caught you.”

“Tell me,” he said, still eyeing Lois. She hadn’t given him the slightest indication either way.

“Congratulations, Daddy.”

He dropped the bag he held and sat down on the couch. “Really?”

“Really. And, Clark, you could have trusted me enough to tell me you were… a little different.”

“Wh… what?”

“There’s not a glaring difference. It didn’t jump out at me or anything, but your DNA is remarkable, as well as the twins’. Perry is almost an exact match. Collin’s profile closely resembles Lois’. Tell her I destroyed the sample. I’m sure the state doesn’t need it anymore. Oh, and I destroyed the others, too. Although I have a copy of the profiles on a flash drive for you. It’s locked up tight, though.”

“Dr. Klein?” Clark managed after the man’s stunning revelation.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to know you have a trusted confidant.”

“I appreciate that,” Clark said with a smile.

“Again, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Clark returned the receiver and sat staring at the top of the coffee table, allowing the information to sink in. They were his; they were really his children.

Lois moved around and sat down on the table in front of him, reaching out to take his hands. “Please tell me this is what you wanted.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I wanted this,” he said softly, turning his hands over to hold hers. He’d fantasized many times about the twins actually being his. To have that fantasy turned into reality was something he couldn’t describe. It felt… amazing.

She gave him a watery smile, but couldn’t say a word.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then choked back a sob.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she said as another sob escaped.

Clark pulled her into his arms and she cried in earnest. She clung to him, burying her face against his neck, trusting him to chase away her demons again. He held the back of her head with a large hand while his other spread out across her back. This time he did cry with her, silent tears that rolled down his cheeks. At that moment he knew how much she’d lost. He’d been robbed of precious moments, too. This was certainly never how he’d pictured having kids.

A long while later, she took a deep breath, but didn’t pull away. “You smell good,” she mumbled against his skin.

He laughed softly and turned his face so that he could sniff her neck. “So do you.”

“I smell like men’s body wash.”

He laughed again and drew back far enough to look at her. “Better?” he asked as he lifted his hand to caress her cheek.

“I really am happy with the results,” she said with a sincere expression.

“Me, too.”

“Gravy, remember?”

He shrugged with a cheeky grin. “Sue me.”

Lois laughed softly and leaned back away from him. She reached over and grabbed the bag he’d set down. He’d bought her a simple pair of gray slacks, a gorgeous burgundy blouse, and a pair of black loafers that would probably go with a ton of different outfits. There were also black, sheer socks and new underwear. Granted, not the sexiest underwear she’d ever had, but definitely a far cry from the prison rags she’d worn.

“How in hell did you know what sizes to buy?”

“I’m Superman,” he teased her as he stood up. “It’s another super power.”

She laughed out loud as she followed him into the bedroom. He continued through to the bathroom so he could shower and she took out her new clothes to get dressed. Super power or not, he’d done a heck of a job, she thought as she admired herself in the mirror on his dresser. The only thing missing was a new bra. But the one she had would do for now. Clark had even remembered to get a black belt. Maybe she’d let him go shopping for her. She hated shopping.

“Nice,” he said as he walked up behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you,” she told him with a serious expression.

“You’re welcome.” He reached out to squeeze her arm, gave her another look that left little doubt just how much he liked what he saw, then stepped over to the closet to look for a tie.

Lois took a deep breath, reminding herself there was so much to do. She didn’t have time for what her body was telling her she wanted. Although she was having an equally hard time trying to convince her mind, too.

A glance at him told her that maybe knowing Clark Kent was a good thing. Besides, thinking about him was better than the pain and bitterness any day.

***

Much of the day was spent with Lois in conference with Mayson and Perry, after fighting through the throng of press at the Planet. She’d suddenly become the news, a very different situation for her. But a few mumbled ‘no comments’ and a strong arm from Clark helped them ease into the building easily enough. They’d probably be hounding her at Clark’s place when they found out she was staying there.

Her situation was discussed at length. Although a bit reluctant, Lois mentioned a few of her intentions for the future. Mayson also spent the afternoon on video feed with the lawyers in Sydney. She and Lois had discussed a few figures and the details of the settlement were quickly outlined. Final papers would be ready in a day or two. Apparently the foreign law firm wasn’t all that concerned about her legal status in the states. According to Australian law, her children were the legal heirs to the Luckaby fortune.

Clark flew to Spain again and by lunchtime, he had a follow-up ready for print. Lois had detailed the Delconto Organization’s rise to the criminal world. She told of Hernandez Delconto, Juan’s father, who took over an Asian opium operation during World War One. Hernandez plowed through Asia, the Middle East, then into his home country of Spain. By the start of the next World War, he was a force to be reckoned with. His import/ export business was the perfect cover for his drug operation. He later began smuggling arms to support the many militia around the world. Juan hit the ground running when he took over the organization with a laundering business. By the end of the eighties, it was widely known that Delconto was also a front for an international hit group as well as being known for its many trade endeavors. Illegal alcohol, drugs, arms, and even humans were transported around the world, sold to the highest bidder.

Lois had gotten every bit of her information first hand. Juan had confessed his many sins on his death bed. He’d also provided proof to some of the horrors he’d described. There were shipping forms, manifests, videos, pictures, account numbers, personal logs, and numerous other items of proof. Juan had named names, supplied numbers. He was taking as many as he could to hell with him.

One of the men he’d provided some very incriminating evidence on was Lex Luthor. By day’s end, Henderson had turned over enough evidence to the prosecutor to put him away for a long time for crimes ranging from embezzlement to murder. There was even the mention of the state seeking the death penalty.

Martha had waited patiently until late evening to call Clark about the DNA results for the twins. He’d asked her if he could bring Lois to dinner and they’d tell them everything. She’d hung up the phone with a smile on her face. She knew, but she didn’t say so.

Close to five, Clark looked up to see Jimmy and Lois in Perry’s office. They were all laughing and talking, catching up the way a family does when they’ve been apart for a while. He hadn’t told them about the results Bernie had given him, so he figured now was as good a time as any.

“Hey, Jack, can you join us for a sec?” He was halfway to the boss’ office when he’d yelled out to the other man.

“Sure thing, CK.” Jack crossed the room and they walked in, one after the other.

“Hey, guys. Got a minute?” Clark asked when he went in.

“Sure, son. What’s on your mind?” Perry said from his relaxed position, leaning back slightly in his chair, his hands folded across his lap.

Clark looked over at Lois, his expression asking for permission to share their news from the morning phone call. She nodded with a smile and he took a deep breath. “Collin and Perry *are* mine.”

Jack and Jimmy both shouted out loud.

Jimmy jumped to his feet and bear hugged Clark. “Congratulations, CK!”

“See? You’re gonna learn to listen to me,” Jack told him as he took a turn hugging his friend.

Clark laughed at him as he stepped back from their exchange. “Thanks, guys!”

“How do you feel about this?” Perry asked Lois. Leave it to him to make sure his ‘daughter’ was okay.

She glanced up at Clark, a grin on her face. “I think he’ll do.”

Perry laughed heartily and stood up to walk around the desk. “I think it’s ironic as hell, but I like it.” He reached out to shake Clark’s hand, pumping it vigorously. “I could say I knew what I was doing way back when.”

Clark smiled as Perry released his hand. “I guess you did.”

“Mayson mentioned that she’d need to talk to you about the legalities when the results were in,” Perry told him.

“Yeah. She said we’d discuss it tomorrow.”

Jack and Jimmy had been talking a mile a minute behind Clark. Finally Jack reached over and squeezed Lois’ shoulder. “How ‘bout you and Clark come hang out with me and Jimmy tomorrow night? I play with a band on Friday nights at Lennie’s.”

“That sounds fun,” she told him. “Clark?”

“Yeah. It does.” His eyes flashed at her, before he focused on the other man.

“Great!”

“Hey, CK, can you see if Carrie down in advertising will come along?” Jimmy asked him.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Are you kidding? I have to ask a girl out like ten times before she says yes. You look at ‘em and they’re ready to go.”

Clark rolled his eyes at Jimmy. “They do not.”

“Oh, yeah? How many times did you ask Mayson out before she went?”

“I didn’t…” He stopped, his cheeks turned red, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“See?” Jimmy said again.

“See what?” Lois wanted to know.

“He didn’t even have to ask her. *She* asked him out,” Jimmy said with a grin. “Women love him.”

“They do not,” Clark argued. “Besides, if Carrie agreed to go if I asked her, how would that help you?”

“Bar. Drinks,” Jack spoke up. “I swear for a reporter, you are the slowest guy in the world.” Jack shook his head and headed out the door. “See ya’ later,” he threw over his shoulder. “I have work to do.”

Poor Clark let his head drop toward his chest, laughter threatening to overtake him. Perry, Jimmy, and Lois were all snickering as well.

“On second thought,” Jimmy started, “maybe I *should* ask her myself.”

Clark looked at him. “Maybe you should.”

Jimmy chuckled and clapped his shoulder before he headed out to finish up his work for the day.

“And you hired this guy?” Lois asked Perry, motioning toward Clark.

“Ah, he’ll do,” Perry told her, the same thing she’d said of him earlier.

Lois cocked her head to look up at him. “Yeah,” she agreed.

“All right,” Perry announced. “You two get out of here.” He walked back around the desk, confident they’d do as they were told.

Clark stepped through the door and waited for Lois to come out. “How are you?” he asked her. He hadn’t seen her very much during the day and wanted to make sure she was fairing well.

“I’m good. Mayson says we have a legal mess with Lex.”

“I thought the judge overturned the conviction?”

“He did.” They stopped next to his desk. “But I signed a marriage license with Lex Luthor. He never legally changed his name.”

“So… your marriage shouldn’t be legal,” Clark said. He knew the law enough to know that much.

“Right, but…”

“I knew there would be a but.”

“He also filed a license in Australia as Luckaby. Apparently I signed that as well. However, with the information in Paul’s research, I might have legal grounds to void any marriage. Mayson said she’d have to check into things, call the Australian consulate, yadda, yadda.” She motioned with her hand.

“How long does Mayson think you’ll be in limbo?”

“Two weeks or more. But she said she’d work as quickly as possible. Guess what else?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“What?”

“By the end of the week, I’ll be as rich as you.”

“Really?” His lips spread into a smile of his own.

“The new settlement will need both our approvals when the final draft is done.”

“Both? Why?”

“We’re in this together,” she said matter-of-factly.

Clark’s smile faded a bit as he looked at her. “Speaking of our… relationship… Mayson wants to talk to both of us tomorrow.”

“Yeah. She told me. We’re supposed to meet her at ten.”

“Okay.” He glanced back at his desk. “I’m done here.”

“Okay.”

Clark looked at her a moment, wondering if she was ready to meet her twins. He hadn’t even asked her to dinner before telling his mother they’d come.

“What?” she asked. She could tell there was something on his mind.

He sighed and glanced away for a second. He was actually nervous about asking her to go with him. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if she said no.

“I’m ready,” she told him, relieving him of the need to ask. She wasn’t sure how she knew what was wrong with him, but she knew. Another of the strange things about this new relationship she’d have to analyze.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said with a wide smile. “Let’s go by the apartment so I can change into something more comfortable before we go.”

“Not fair,” she told him as she walked beside him up the ramp.

“You don’t like your clothes?”

“Oh, I love ‘em. But a pair of jeans would be even better.” She looked down at her feet. “And some new sneakers. Those things I’ve got are awful.”

“Then we’ll make a pit stop.”

They stepped into the elevator and turned as the door closed. “You can’t keep buying me clothes. Someone’s gonna start to think I’m a kept woman.”

Clark laughed when he realized she was teasing him. “I could just give it all to you and play the part of the kept man.”

“Hand it over,” she told him with an outstretched hand.

Keeping his eyes on hers, and a hint of smile on his lips, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Her eyes looked down at it when he put it in her hand. And when her brown orbs flashed, he realized his mistake. She stuffed his wallet into her bag and turned around to look at their reflections in the shiny, metal doors. He was shaking his head when they opened on the bottom floor.

On the sidewalk they hailed a cab. Clark didn’t say a word other than give the cabby directions to City Place- the closest mall.

“How ‘bout that?” Lois said after a few moments of silence. He looked over to see her holding his wallet open. “Your picture on your license is actually pretty decent.” Her head snapped up so she could look at him. “I’ll have to get a new one. Dammit! I hate going to the DMV.”

“Do what I do. Go to one out of the city, where it’s less crowded. It’s all state anyway.”

“Smart, Kent,” she said and began her perusal of the contents of his wallet again. “Look at them!” she said as she found a picture of the twins. They were covered in mud.

“Dad took that the weekend of the Corn Festival. They were helping him wash the car, but found out that playing in the mud was a lot more fun.”

Lois lifted her head and stared out the window, all pretense of a smile gone.

“What?” he prompted.

“I saw them that weekend. Saw all of you,” she said without looking around at him.

“In Smallville?”

“Yeah. I’d only been back in the states for a few days. I’d done some searches on the net and found out about the festival. I made a few calls and learned that you were all going to be there.” She shrugged. “I wanted to see.”

Clark was the one to look the other way now. He was… upset that she’d done that. That she’d been so close, yet remained so far away.

“I wanted to see you, with them.”

“What?” he asked as he turned his head back to her.

“I wanted to watch you with them without you knowing I was doing it.” Her eyes met his. “I had to know that you really loved them.”

“Of course I love them.”

“But you didn’t know they might be yours. I wanted to know if you loved them without knowing their biology. I know,” she said of his strange expression. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand why I needed to know that, but I did. And I saw. Then I had to take care of all this other stuff before I could be with them.” She reached out to grasp his arm. “Please understand.”

“Lois, I might never understand everything, but I will try to accept the things you feel you need to do,” he assured her. And he meant it. He’d do everything he could to allow her to do what she felt she needed to in order to cope with all that happened to her.

“Even if it makes you mad?”

He sighed and glanced away. How was it she knew him so well? “Yeah, even if it makes me mad,” he confessed and turned back to offer her a smile.

She studied his eyes for a moment before deciding that he meant what he said. Squeezing his arm, she relaxed and offered him a smile in return. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” He settled back in for the remainder of the ride while she continued to look through his wallet. “Having fun?”

“Yep. Two credit cards- smart man,” she supplied. Her eyes widened when she found another card. “Clark Jerome Kent.” His license hadn’t had his full name on it, but his social security card did. “I’ll be damned. You and Collin share a name.”

“Yeah. I’d thought that funny at the time.”

“I named him after my brother.”

“Your brother?” He didn’t know she had a brother.

“Mmm,” she mumbled as she continued to look through his personal items. “He died when he was four months old. Heart condition.” She lifted her eyes to his. “That’s why my mother started seeing Paul again. Daddy withdrew in his depression and I guess she was lonely.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.” She gave him a sad smile, then thumbed through his money. “Wow! Do you always keep this much cash?”

“Not until recently.” He shrugged. “I figure I have it. Why not use it?”

“I know how much the new expense check will be every month, but how much is it now?”

“Too much.” When she gave him a stern glare, he said, “Twenty thousand. Don’t tell me the new one will be more than that?”

“Okay. I won’t tell you.” He laughed softly as she looked up at the mall stretching out in front of them. “It’s amazing the things you miss.”

“I know. When I traveled overseas, I was often in tiny villages without running water.”

“Oh, thank God, Lex paid his bills,” she said in exasperation.

Clark laughed again as he opened the door when the cab pulled to stop. “Pay the man, would you?”

Lois wasn’t a bit bothered by opening his wallet and pulling out enough money for the ride and a generous tip. When she stepped out on the sidewalk beside him, she held out the leather case. “Maybe you should hold onto this.”

“I don’t know. I kinda’ like the idea of being kept.” He pushed his hands into his front pockets and started for the entrance of the mall.

She sighed in frustration and hurried to catch up to him. As he stopped to hold the door open, she reached out and stuffed his wallet into his back pocket, grinning widely at the hitch in his breathing. Her eyes flashed to his and with more gumption than she should, she smoothed her hand over his rear.

“Nice, Kent.” She patted once and went inside before he could fully process what she’d done.

Clark had to close his eyes when she touched him. A flash of white heat surged through him like a bolt of lightening. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Hell, he’d told her that her teasing affected him. A glance at the devilish grin on her face told him she knew exactly what she did to him. If he wasn’t such a gentlemen, he’d give as good as he got.

Shaking his head, he gathered himself together enough to catch up with her. She was looking through a window at a pair of shoes. He prayed he’d have the strength to put up with her because she was certainly exhausting.

Exhilarating, but exhausting.

***

“Ready?” Clark asked Lois as he stepped up behind her. She was looking out of the door leading to the balcony of his apartment. They’d spent an hour or so at the mall buying her a few new clothes. And he was sure his eyes were going to hurt from staring at her. The snug fitting blue jeans wrapped around her like a glove. She’d chosen a plain white blouse that allowed everyone to see exactly how female she was. Of course, the new bra she was wearing helped out a bit in that area as well.

He laughed inwardly when he thought about how badly she’d embarrassed him picking out that particular item. Lois had noticed the clerk was openly flirting with him and couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. When she’d tried on a bra, she’d stepped out of the dressing room and asked him if it made her breasts look perky. She’d even asked him to squeeze them to make sure. He’d nearly died right there when she’d declared that he didn’t have a problem doing so when they were alone. Of course, the poor clerk was barely able to check them out after that. But she hadn’t flirted with Clark anymore.

Lois turned and grabbed the jacket she’d picked out from the window seat. When she looked up at Clark, she was the one whose breath hitched. He was wearing jeans, one of those muscle shirts under a button down denim shirt, and a black leather jacket. And he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“What?” he asked when she kept staring at him.

“Do you look decent in everything you wear?” she asked as she slipped her jacket on.

He glanced down at himself, then shrugged. He looked the way he always did, but if she liked it…

He grinned and clicked off the lights on their way toward the door. Clark led her toward the back of the building, stopping when they were in the shadows of the alley. He turned toward her, a smile playing on his lips when he heard her heart beginning to race.

“Don’t be nervous. I don’t plan on dropping you.”

“Funny, Kent.” She pasted on an expression of pure bravado, daring him to show her what he had.

“I’ll have to…” He motioned toward her and reached out to grasp her sides. His eyes held hers as he lifted them off the ground. “Hold on. We’ll have to go up pretty quickly.” She’d barely placed her hands on his shoulders when they became a flash. When he stopped, she had a death grip on his arms, but her eyes were searching her surroundings. Her face was flushed and her heart thumped slightly different than before. She was excited, he realized.

“That was awesome,” she said breathlessly. Her eyes came back to his, flashing in anticipation.

“More?” Seeing her reaction thrilled him. He couldn’t remember wanting to fly this much in a long time.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed and relaxed her hold on him.

“It’ll be easier like this,” Clark said and shifted her so he could reach down and lift her in a cradle hold. Before she could protest, they were moving. Lois’ arms had automatically circled his neck when he’d grabbed her. Her eyes darted here and there as they flew and slowly she began asking him questions about things she saw. He was glad she’d relaxed and wasn’t scared. It was May and the night was warm, but flying so high meant that the air was chilly.

“Are you cold?” he asked her.

“No.” Her arms tightened around his neck. “You’re nice and toasty.” He chuckled softly and continued his narrative of their flight.

“Hold on,” he finally told her and descended toward the ground. They landed just behind the barn. He stood there, holding her, looking into her eyes. Slowly he lowered her feet to the dirt.

She eased back, but not completely out of his grasp. Her eyes moved away from his so she could look around.

“Lois, I’m not sure what you’re expecting, but they’re little. And they don’t understand everything.”

“I know, Clark.” She pulled away from him and entered the barn. There was a cow in a stall who looked like she was about to explode. “Is she going to have a baby?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he walked up beside her. “Collin and Perry aren’t really shy, but…”

“What?” she asked him. “Just say whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

“I just don’t want you to… withdraw if they don’t exactly…” He sighed and looked over at the cow.

“Clark, I know they won’t jump into my arms and yell, ‘Mommy!’ They don’t know me and I don’t know them. I know it’s going to be hard and we’ll have to get used to each other.”

He smiled and reached out to place his hand on her back. “It won’t take them long. They’ll be crazy about you before you know it.”

She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking how long it would be before he was crazy about her. This man had tilted her world on its axis. And unlike when Lex had upset her existence, she liked this disruption. With a nod, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Think we could go see them now?”

“Yeah.” He held up his hand for her to go out first and he fell in step beside her. When they neared the house, they noticed his father was on the back patio. He looked up from the grill and smiled.

“Hey there,” Jonathan offered.

“Hey, Dad.” Clark stepped over and kissed the side of his father’s face, an action that stunned Lois. “Dad, this is Lois.”

“Hi, Lois,” he said and stepped forward to hug her.

Hot tears stung her eyes, but she ordered them to stay put. She wasn’t going to start that already, even if she hadn’t expected this man, this strange man to hug her. “Jonathan, right?” she asked when he drew back to look at her.

“Yes, ma’am. And I’m glad to finally see you.”

She tilted her head and looked at him. “Are you?” she asked, unable to stop herself. She hadn’t meant to say that, but she really needed to know if this man was okay she’d come to make waves in their peaceful lives.

Instead of taking offense, Jonathan recognized her question for what it truly was- her need to assure herself that someone cared about her. He pulled her back into another hug and sighed. “I’m not made that way, Lois,” he told her softly. “I’d much rather have you here with those babies than anywhere else in this world.”

This time when he withdrew, a couple of tears slipped through her carefully erected defenses. “Sorry,” she mumbled and wiped her face quickly.

“Don’t be,” the older man told her. “Now, go on in the house with Clark so I can finish our dinner.”

She nodded and turned toward the door. Clark was smiling softly and he allowed her all the time she needed to be ready to go inside. Her feet moved slowly, one step after the other. Clark held the door as she stepped inside. They walked through the small entry and entered the kitchen, causing Martha to look up from the stove, a blindingly warm smile on her face. Lois now knew where Clark got his warmth.

Were her twins like that? Had the Kents’ disposition rubbed off on them any?

“Lois!” Martha said as she started toward her, outstretched arms. The younger woman was smothered in another hug before she could protest, even if she wasn’t about to. She kind of liked these hugs. “It is so good to meet you,” Martha said when she held Lois at arm’s length.

And she meant it. Lois didn’t have to ask this time. These people were probably the most genuinely sincere she’d ever seen. “I’m glad to be here,” Lois told her and realized that she was telling the truth. She’d briefly, very briefly, toyed with the idea of just drifting away, blending into the world and leaving her children to be raised by their father. But that was before she’d seen them in Smallville. Before she’d seen for herself what a great person Clark was. She’d only watched him then, but she knew. She knew he was one of a kind.

She’d also known she wanted desperately to meet him, too. Now she was glad she had.

“Daddy!”

Lois jerked her head toward the sound of the small voice as fast moving feet carried a little whirlwind across the kitchen. Clark bent and held out his arms, but Collin stopped when he noticed they had a guest. He finished the journey to his father slowly, carefully watching her as he went.

“Hey, big guy. Where’s your sister?” Clark asked him as he gathered him in his arms and stood up, kissing his face as he did.

“Hi, Lady,” Collin told Lois with a flip of his hand to imitate a wave.

“Hi, sweetie,” Lois squeaked through her tears. He was so beautiful. She hesitantly reached out and was shocked when Collin did the same. “Oh,” she managed as her fingers stroked his small hand.

“Don’t cry,” he told her, concern written all over his face.

She laughed softly, but the tears still rolled down her cheeks. Collin watched her for a moment, then gently pulled his hand away and grasped Clark on both sides of his face.

“Did you bing me sumpin?” His head nearly touched Clark’s as he looked the man in the eyes. Being that close surely made his features seem even larger than they were.

Clark leaned forward so that they were touching. “Sorry, pal, the only thing I brought today was this pretty lady to see you.”

Collin turned his head, without pulling it away from Clark’s. “Otay,” he said and grinned at Lois.

If it hadn’t been for Martha standing beside her, she was sure she would have fallen down. His smile was amazing. It sent warm sparks down her spine. Her hand went up to cover her mouth as she slowly smiled back.

“Her not purdy, Daddy,” Collin said as he looked back at his father.

“Collin!” Clark rebuked.

He smiled, an expression that she was sure he practiced. “Her bootiful!”

Clark laughed and hugged the boy close to his chest. “I have to agree, son,” he told him, then set him on his feet. “Why don’t you go tell Perry I’m here?”

“‘Tay.” And he was gone.

Lois watched him run down the hall and disappear through a door on the other end.

“You okay?” Clark asked as he reached out to smooth his hand over Lois’ shoulder.

She could only nod because she was too choked up.

“Let me take your jacket,” Martha spoke up. Lois shrugged out of it and Martha thrust it toward Clark. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

She was about to tell Martha she had when Perry came barreling into the kitchen, followed closely by her brother. Lois watched as Clark greeted her much the same way he had Collin. She wasn’t as impressed with their guest, too caught up in wrapping her father around her finger. Perry held Clark’s face the same way Collin had, but she kissed his lips, nose, and cheeks before she’d had enough. Leaning back in his arms, confident he’d hold her, she finally looked over.

“Hi,” Lois said softly.

“Hi,” she returned, but instead of reaching out to touch Lois, she wrapped her arm around Clark’s neck and leaned her head over on the side of his. “What’s your name?” she asked, sweetly.

“My name is Lois,” she answered automatically.

“My name is Perry,” the little girl returned.

“I know. Your daddy told me.” If she wanted to talk, she’d be more than happy to do so. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Collin had reached out to hold Clark’s leg and was looking up at her, apparently interested in what she had to say.

“Is he your friend?”

“He is,” Lois told her. “And he said you might like to be my friend, too.”

Perry sat up and smiled at her. “Yes!” she said enthusiastically. She wriggled to get down and Clark set her on her feet. “Come see.”

Lois glanced at Clark, who nodded. “Where are we going?” Lois asked Perry, wiping the tears from her face.

“To drink tea,” Perry informed her.

“I don’t want to,” Collin whined, but he followed anyway.

Clark sighed as he watched them disappear into the dining room that had been turned into a playroom. He smiled at his mother when she wrapped an arm around his waist.

“She’s very pretty,” his mother said. “I know where the kids get it from.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Clark replied, pulling her closer to his side.

“Does that mean…?” she asked him, a hopeful expression on her face. She knew he was, but she needed to hear it.

“Yeah, Mom. They’re mine.”

“Oh, Clark!” She hugged him tightly, tears of her own making tracks down her cheeks. She pulled away suddenly and hurried toward the door. “Jonathan!” she yelled when she opened it. “He is!”

“Hot dog!” the older man shouted back.

Clark laughed softly and picked up Lois’ jacket from the chair he’d draped it over and went to hang it up. He put his in the hall closet, too, and headed toward the playroom. He propped against the frame and watched as Lois drank tea with her children. She was so intent on her task, she didn’t even notice him. Both kids were talking a mile a minute and somehow she seemed to be keeping up, even dropping in her own comments and questions. He shook his head as he continued to watch. His mother pulled on his shoulder, and when he noticed she was holding the camera, he stepped out of the way.

The first flash made Lois look up at them.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Martha said as she held up the camera.

“No.” Her eyes glowed as she smiled at each child.

“Nana wikes pitchas,” Collin told her.

“I do, too,” Lois said. She was rewarded with another cheeky grin as he continued to pretend he was drinking tea.

Perry was the one to plop her cup down and declare she was full. “Want to go swing?” she asked her new friend.

“Oh, yes,” Lois replied. “I like to swing.”

Neither child waited on her, just jumped up and ran back toward the kitchen. Lois stood and walked through the door. “I guess I better hurry.”

“Looks like it,” Clark said with a grin.

“Here, son, go take pictures,” his mother told him as she held the camera out. “I have to finish the potatoes.”

Clark took the large device and went after the trio. He’d had to buy his mother a top of line camera after she’d worn out her third one. This one seemed to be faring better from the nearly constant use.

Jonathan was laughing softly as he watched Lois push each child on their swings. Clark clicked off a few pictures before his father held out his hand.

“Go join them.”

He relinquished the camera to his father and went to take over pushing duties so Lois could swing, too. Both children were laughing and yelling back and forth. Soon enough so was Lois. He was so thrilled to see her this relaxed and enjoying herself so much. He had been a bit worried about how the children would react to her, but Lois had said the magic word to Perry- friend. His little girl loved making friends. She spoke to everyone when Martha took her shopping in town; she didn’t meet a stranger, unlike when she’d first come to live on the farm. And if Perry deemed someone a friend, that was good enough for Collin. At the same time, if Perry disliked someone, her brother wouldn’t let them so much as look at her. He was very protective of his sister.

Clark looked up when his mother called them to dinner. The twins set off at a run and he walked with Lois toward the house.

“Still okay?” he asked her.

“Oh, Clark, you’ve done a fantastic job with them.”

“My parents have done a wonderful job,” he corrected her.

“I see how they look at you.”

“Does that… bother you?”

“Absolutely not.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “What bothers me is that we’re out here and I’m not seeing them smile.”

Clark chuckled softly as she pushed against his chest, then hurried up the steps. He ran after her, as ready as she was to see them smile again.

***

Lois chose to sit across from the twins so she could see them both, instead of having to move her head back and forth to see them. Luckily the table was round, enabling her to see everyone fairly clearly.

“Oh, Jonathan, this steak is delicious,” she commented after about three bites.

“Thank you,” he said and reached over to pat her arm.

“And the potatoes…” She moaned appreciatively.

“Lois likes to eat,” Clark told them.

“Me, too,” supplied Collin and demonstrated by stuffing a potato into his mouth.

Lois laughed softly as she looked at him. He allowed her a glimpse of his dimples before he stuck another bite of his food with his fork. She noticed that Perry was eating, but not as enthusiastically as her brother. Martha noticed Lois was watching the girl.

“Perry is all girl. She’s… dainty.”

“I see,” Lois said and the little girl smiled at her. Both children sat on booster seats strapped into the dining chairs. It was amazing how much they’d grown. Perry’s hair was long and wavy, tied up in piggy tails. Collin sported a neat, close haircut, making him look like a little man. Glancing from them to Clark, Lois realized that they did indeed look like him.

Clark looked up from helping Collin with his steak, noticing Lois seemed to be lost in her thoughts. “Hey?” He reached over to touch her hand and she blinked so she could focus on him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just noticing how much they really do look like you.”

Martha grinned at her husband. “We’ve always thought so, too. But of course, we figured it was just wishful thinking.”

Lois let out a snort of laughter. “I’ll bet that was odd as he… Hey, pass me the salad,” she interrupted herself from uttering the swear word at the last moment.

Martha laughed out loud. “Yeah, it was,” she agreed. Her eyes met Lois’ and they both laughed again. “Jonathan forgets himself sometimes, too.”

“Sorry,” Lois replied with a blush and ducked her head toward her plate. She dug back into her food with abandon. In mere minutes she was done. Martha and Jonathan exchanged a glance, but kept eating their own meals. “I eat fast. Consequence of starving in prison. When I first went, I still ate slowly and went to bed hungry a few nights. Of course, considering it *was* prison food, I guess I went to bed hungry a lot.” She stopped when the older Kents stared at her.

Clark hadn’t slowed down. He had gotten used to her babble rather quickly. “She babbles,” he pointed out around a mouth full of food.

“Sorry,” she said again. “I haven’t talked a lot in the past few years and now that I can…” She shrugged helplessly, a deep blush washing over her face. “Okay, I’m nervous as he…” She glanced at the twins who were watching her intently as they ate. “I’m petrified.”

“Why, dear?” Martha asked her.

Lois stared at her as if she had three heads. “Are you kidding?” She waved her hand around the room as if that should explain everything. When Martha gave her an understanding smile, she let out an exasperated breath. Leaning back against her chair she felt hot tears sting her eyes again.

“Lois, don’t,” Clark whispered. “They understand.”

“I know,” she breathed, wiping her cheeks.

“Daddy?” He reluctantly tore his eyes from Lois and looked over at Collin.

“What, son?”

“Is her otay?”

“Yes, big guy, she’s okay.”

His large, bright eyes went to Lois and she swore his expression was one of complete understanding. “Div her a teenex.”

The adults laughed softly as Clark stood up and retrieved the *Kleenex* from the buffet by the door. “Here. Take a teenex,” he told Lois as he pulled one from the box and held it out to her.

She laughed again and accepted the offer. “Thank you,” she said to Collin.

“Welcome,” he replied, then shoved more potatoes in his mouth.

Why had she waited so long to come meet these little people? Lois asked herself as they finished their dinner. Her eyes flashed to Jonathan’s when he offered her another gentle touch. She and Martha exchanged an entire conversation across the table, without ever saying a word. She talked a bit with the twins, but mostly they ate. They were good eaters, and it showed. They were healthy, with beautiful olive-colored skin and shiny hair. Martha and Jonathan took really good care of them and it showed.

***

“Will you come back to see us?” Perry asked Lois when Martha announced it was bedtime. Clark explained they were on a schedule, although not too strict. But Martha liked for them to go to bed close to the same time each night. He did say they could stay up a bit later if she wanted them to. Lois insisted they stick to their routine, saying there would be plenty of time for them to be together from now on. He’d argued briefly, but she’d told him she’d like to talk with his parents for a while.

“I will come so often you’ll get tired of seeing me,” Lois told the little girl.

Perry smiled brightly, the dimples in her cheeks as deep as Collin’s. “Wois, do you hug your friends?”

A lump jumped into Lois’ throat and she forced it down so she could answer. “Yes, Perry. I like to hug my friends.” She nearly passed out when Perry launched herself at her, wrapping her small arms around her neck. It took her a second, but she finally managed to get her body to react to what her brain was telling her. Lois folded her daughter against her body as new tears filled her eyes. She cried softly as she held Perry for the first time since the girl was seven months old.

Collin looked up at Clark from where he sat on his father’s lap and was about to say something, but Clark covered his mouth with a large hand. “Not now, son.” He smoothed his hand over his cheek, gazing at him to keep his attention long enough for Lois to reunite with Perry. It worked for a moment. Finally the little boy turned toward the others.

“Is her otay, Daddy?”

“She is now, son,” Clark told him as he watched Lois withdraw and cup Perry’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Lois told Perry. “I really needed that hug.”

“‘Night, Wois.” Perry kept watching her as she grasped Martha’s hand so the older woman could lead her up to bed.

When they were gone, Collin slid off of Clark’s lap and walked over to Lois. “I wike to hug, too.”

Lois reached out to grasp his tiny face and rubbed her nose against his. She’d done that to both of them from the time they were born.

Collin looked up at her with a bright smile. “My daddy do that,” he let her know.

“Does he?” Her thumbs stroked his cheeks as she gazed at him. Deciding she’d waited long enough, she pulled him to her chest to hold him like she’d done her daughter. His small arms squeezed tightly, wrapping her in a warmth she’d missed desperately.

Collin wasn’t as understanding as Perry, withdrawing from the hug long before Lois wanted him to. “See ya’,” he said and ran toward his grandfather. Jonathan bent to lift him in his arms and they went up to bed.

When they were gone, Lois sighed and looked over at Clark. “I miss them already.”

“I know.” He reached over to squeeze her arm. “We can come back day after tomorrow. Or you could stay. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind.”

“We have that meeting with Mayson tomorrow,” she reminded him.

“I forgot. Sorry.”

“But maybe I could come back this weekend. I mean, you could, too, but if you can’t…”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Martha said as she re-entered the room. “I’ll make up the extra room.” She sat down in the chair across from the sofa where the younger couple were sitting.

“Thank you.”

“Lois, you don’t have to thank me. They *are* your children.”

“They’re yours, too,” she said flatly as her eyes bored into the older woman’s. Martha was unable to utter a word in reply. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you all about.”

“What do you need to talk to us about?” Jonathan asked as he sat down in the other chair beside his wife.

“You are planning to move to Metropolis?” Lois asked the older couple.

“Yes. We close on the new house in two weeks,” Martha told her.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking… a *lot* of thinking. I’m not gonna take the kids away from you.” She stared down at her clasped hands.

“What?” Martha glanced at Clark, who was obviously hearing this for the first time, too.

“You’re all they know.”

“Don’t you think they’ll want to live with you once they get to know you?” Jonathan spoke up. As much as he didn’t want to lose his twins, he didn’t want to keep them from their mother either.

Lois shrugged, unable to look at them. “Truth is I’m not sure I trust myself to take care of them.”

“Don’t be silly,” Martha told her. “You’ll be wonderful when you settle in.”

Clark sat up on the edge of the sofa. “Why don’t we take one day at a time before we make such huge decisions?”

“I thought you’d be thrilled,” she said when her eyes met his.

“Thrilled? Lois, if you think I’m thrilled because you’ve more or less decided that you don’t want to raise your kids, then you have a lot to learn about me. No, I don’t want to lose them. But I don’t want you to give them up either. And you don’t have to. We can raise them together.”

“Clark, you don’t want me and all my baggage around all the time.”

Clark scooted closer to Lois and reached out to lift her chin until she looked at him. “I want you with your kids. And since I’m not going anywhere, then yeah.” He smiled at her, his hand dropping to grasp hers. “I want you around.”

“You’ll change your mind,” she told him, a deep frown on her face. She’d thought about this nearly nonstop since she’d first seen the kids tonight. They adored their grandparents. How could she take that away from them? And how in the world could any of them want her around all the time? There was so much going on in her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel… normal again.

“And when I do, I’ll kick your butt to the curb,” he joked, hoping it would have at least a little effect on her. He let out a long slow breath when her mouth quirked toward a smile.

“Clark, why don’t you take Lois to look at the house?” his mother put in. “That storage space over the garage could be turned into a nice little apartment.”

Clark’s face lit up. “Mom, that’s a great idea!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lois spoke up.

“You don’t have to,” Clark said as he reached down to squeeze her knee. “I know for you.”

She finally allowed the smile tugging her lips to spread out. “If someone had told me about you, I’d have called them a liar.”

“He is a good boy, isn’t he?” Martha asked as she stood and patted her son’s shoulder. “As much as we love talking with both of you, five o’clock comes early.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lois said quickly and jumped to her feet.

“Don’t be, honey.” Martha reached over and grasped Lois’ arm as she led her toward the kitchen. “We are thrilled to finally have you here.”

“I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me…” Lois began.

“We expect you to love your children,” the other woman said. They stopped next to the table and Martha faced her. “And since you turned them over to strangers to raise because you felt they were better off than with Lex Luthor, then I’m positive you already cherish them.”

Lois stared at Martha for a moment before she leaned forward and hugged her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Oh, honey,” was the soft reply. When they drew apart, Martha smiled and cupped Lois’ cheek. “Make my boy take care you.”

Her eyes glanced over to where Clark was acting like he wasn’t listening. “I think I can handle that.”

“I have no doubt,” Martha replied with a knowing grin. She went over to the counter to pack up the goody bag she was sending with them.

“You’re welcome here any time,” Jonathan told Lois as he gave her a warm hug.

“Thank you.” She turned toward Clark, who held out her jacket for her to slip it on. She gave him an appreciative glance and he smiled at her.

When he’d put his jacket on and given his parents hugs, he steered her out the back door. “Do you mind holding this?”

“Sure,” she replied and took the bag. “What choice do I have?”

“You could always fly us home,” he joked as he bent to lift her into his arms.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” she said as she wrapped her free arm around his neck.

He chuckled and lifted them into the air. “We can go up a little slower this time since no one can see us.” And he could watch the wonder on her face. She liked flying.

And he liked flying with her… like this. He’d never really done that before. Never had someone to share himself like that. Lana had always known about him, accepted him. She just didn’t like flying, at all. The poor girl could get air sickness in an elevator. She’d told him they had to give her a sedative so she was able to fly to the space station.

“This is the only way to travel,” Lois said after a moment.

“I agree. Of all my powers, this one is the best.”

“Absolutely,” she said as she looked out across the passing scenery. “Did you tell your parents that I know about you?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you must have because they didn’t mention it tonight.” She looked around at him. “Do the twins know?”

“They know I can do some amazing things. I’ve never tried to hide it from them. It’s who I am, so why hide it from them? I know I hide it from the world, but family’s family. I don’t want to hide from family.”

“I’m glad I know, too. I’d hate for you to hide this from me.”

“Then I guess I’m glad we didn’t meet any sooner.”

Lois leaned her head against his. “I don’t know. Under different circumstances…”

“It’s over now,” he said softly.

“I know.” She sighed, for all she’d lost, for what could have been, for what lay ahead.

Clark pulled her just a bit closer, a pang of regret for what she’d lost knotting in his stomach. If he could give her life back…

But that was yesterday. They couldn’t change a thing. All they could do was forge ahead. He’d meant what he’d told her; he wanted her around. All the time. It was amazing how much she’d gotten under his skin in such a short time.

By the time they reached Metropolis, Lois was sound asleep. He landed in the alley and carried his load inside. He laid her down on the bed and had to pry the bag his mother sent from her hand. He figured it was reflex for her to hold it so tightly. He’d noticed she often clenched her hands, holding things with a little too much force. After setting the bag on the nightstand, he reached down to pull her shoes off.

He smiled as he remembered her trying to decide on which pair she wanted the most. He’d solved her problem by purchasing both pairs she’d picked out.

As carefully as possible, he slipped her jacket off. He grabbed the extra quilt from the window seat and spread it over her, deciding that she’d have to sleep in her clothes. He wasn’t about to make her uncomfortable in any way. And taking her clothes off would not only do that, it would make him extremely uncomfortable.

Not being able to stop himself, Clark smoothed his hand over the side of Lois’ face. In her repose, one wouldn’t know the demons that plagued her. He hoped that with time, a lot of patience, and few hundred hugs from two of the most gorgeous toddlers in the world, those demons wouldn’t accost her as horribly as they did now.

He straightened up and grabbed the bag from the nightstand to take it to the kitchen. After putting the food away, he went to change. He settled on the couch and closed his eyes to listen to the steady thump of Lois’ heart. He, too, was soon fast asleep.

***

Violent thrashing sent the blanket on top of Lois flying off the bed. She moaned, she grunted.

“NO!” she yelled and sat straight up. Her eyes searched frantically for the man who had just been on top of her. When Clark reached down to grasp her arm, she swung wildly. “Get away from me!”

Her action caught him off guard and the smack across his face was hard enough to knock him to the floor. He landed on his backside with a thud. His grunt of surprise brought Lois to her feet. She squared her feet and was ready to do battle.

“No more!” she went on. “You won’t do it again!”

“Lois,” he tried softly. “It’s me, Clark.”

She stood over him breathing heavily, as formidable an opponent as he’d ever seen. She stared at him for a moment, then suddenly her face cleared. Her eyes focused in the dim light and she let out a defeated breath before dropping back down on the mattress.

Clark moved slowly toward her. “Lois?”

Her hands were shaking and she was still breathing like she’d been running. She ran a hand through her hair, then bent over to rest her arms on her knees.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he stood up. He didn’t get too close, allowing her the time she needed to recover. She nodded, but didn’t speak. “Want some water?” She shook her head in the negative, gulping in deep breaths now. All of a sudden she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Clark could only stand there as he listened to her. She was sick. Deciding that a possible rebuke was better than doing nothing, he went into the bathroom and wet a cloth in cold water. Satisfied that she was finished throwing up, he bent over and placed the cloth on her face.

Lois sighed in relief and sank backward, confident Clark would be there. He didn’t disappoint her, kneeling so that he could hold her against his chest and continue to wipe her face with the cloth.

“Better?” he asked after her shaking seemed to ease a bit.

“No,” she mumbled into the cloth, turning her face further into Clark’s hand.

“Do you need to throw up again?”

“No,” she breathed.

Clark moved the cloth over her face and held her while she recovered. After a while, he shifted her so he could pick her up.

“I need to brush my teeth,” she managed when she realized he was going to carry her out of the bathroom.

He set her on her feet in front of the sink, then motioned with his hand toward the door. “I’ll go get you something to drink.” She nodded her head as she struggled to get her brush ready. He wanted to help, but decided she might want to be alone. He left her there and went to the kitchen to pour her a glass of Sprite.

Lois brushed her teeth, washed her face, and flushed the toilet before going into the other room. Clark was stepping back into the bedroom when she came out. “Do you have some aspirin?”

“Ah, yeah.” He hurried back into the kitchen and was back by the time she sat down on the side of the bed. “Here.” She took the pills and the soda, gulping them down quickly.

“Thanks,” she told him.

“You’re welcome.” He had knelt down so that he could see her face and he watched her carefully as she turned up her glass again.

“Sorry about knocking you down.”

“Not a problem. I should have known better than to grab you while you were dreaming.”

She nodded her head, then set the glass down on the nightstand. “Why does Superman keep aspirin in his house?”

He smiled. Leave it to Lois to ask him that. “I keep them in case Mom or Dad needs them when they come. And believe it or not, from time to time I feel like I need them.”

“I guess everybody does get tired sometimes, even a super man.”

“Sometimes.” He watched as she picked at her nails, not even attempting to look at him. “I have really good hearing.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor as one nail flicked at another.

He waited, but still she sat. Finally he sighed softly and stood up. “If you need anything…” Just a nod. He tore his eyes away from her and went back into the living room. He couldn’t force her to talk to him. She would when she was ready.

Clark stretched back out on the couch and sighed again when Lois clicked the light off. A moment later, the bed squeaked, telling him she’d resettled to go back to sleep. He turned over and looked up at the ceiling, desperately wishing again that he could help her in some way. It actually hurt him physically to see her in so much pain and distress. He was positive she didn’t even know how to help herself. She was floundering, struggling to cope, to make sense of everything.

This time he was the one to jump in surprise when Lois sat down across the top of his legs. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard her come in. He watched her while she sat there, wrangling with her demons even though she was wide awake.

“I can remember things… Things that happened while I was drugged.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, but didn’t look at him. “The first time he gave me drugs was the night Paul inseminated me. The first time he raped me was on our ‘wedding’ night.” She made quotation marks with her fingers when she said wedding. “It was… strange. I remember thinking ‘this doesn’t feel right’. So I told him no.” She glanced toward the door, wiping her cheek as she did. “Only he made it clear that in his world, no was not a word I could use with him.” She sighed and laid back, staring up at the ceiling. “He told me later, after the twins were born, that the only reason he ever had sex with me was because he was bored.” Her head rolled so that she could look at him. “He left me alone after the kids were born. Thank God. If I’d had to worry about becoming pregnant…” She let out a snort of laughter. “I guess he controlled women because of his inadequacies as a man.”

Clark folded his pillow so that his head was higher, allowing him to see her better. It was dark in the apartment, the only light coming in through the window in the bedroom. But he was pretty sure that was the way she wanted it.

She moved her head to look at the ceiling again. “Even nearly being raped in prison didn’t scare me as much as actually being raped by Lex.” Lois lifted her head and looked at Clark with a smile. “You know what’s funny? He was worse than my first boyfriend. At least he’d been a teenager and had an excuse not knowing what he was doing.”

Clark just kept looking at her, offering support the way he felt she needed at the moment- by being there, listening.

Lois shifted so she could prop her arm on the back of the couch, leaning her head on her hand. “I don’t even know now what the attraction was. I guess I was flattered that he was interested in me. Third richest man in the world courting a struggling reporter- who wouldn’t be impressed?” Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light and she could see his eyes. “I never thought I’d be able to be alone in the same room with another man, much less sit on him.” She grinned at him.

His lips quirked, but he still didn’t speak. And he didn’t move. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable in any way.

Her smile faded and she dropped her eyes to stare as she picked at the couch cushion. “I don’t have that dream often, but it has the same affect every time.” Again she looked at him and smiled. “Although the reaction was a bit different when I woke up this time.” When he barely acknowledged what she’d said, her smile faded. “Why the hell don’t you say something?” she asked him, a single tear spilling from her eye. “I’m pouring my heart out here and I really need to know if I make you sick.”

“What?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Do I?”

“Why would you think that?” She didn’t answer, just looked away from him.

Clark sat up, which brought his face within inches of hers. “What he did to you wasn’t your fault.”

“Thirteen times,” she whispered, still looking down. “And every time felt like he took a piece of my soul with him.” Clark hesitantly reached out to rub her upper arm, unable to respond to that. “How do I get that back?”

“Lois,” he said softly and waited for her to look at him. “I don’t think you’ll ever get it back, but you can put all of that into a place where you’ll be able to live again.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before she lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. She didn’t say another word, just gave him a look that begged for him to help her. He pulled gently on the arm he was still holding and she fell over on him. As his arms wrapped around her, the first tears left her eyes.

Clark tucked her head under his chin and held her close while she cried. This time was worse than the first one. His heart broke for her. He’d gotten to know Lois Lane through Perry and Jimmy, and he knew what a strong woman she’d once been. He’d seen glimpses of that strength in the last few days. As far as he knew, he was the only one who’d seen her break. It would be a struggle. It would take time, more tears, and incredible patience, but he believed that if she’d allow herself, she could heal. She could one day be that strong, independent woman she’d once been.

And the world better look out. Somehow he felt she’d be even more formidable on the other side than she had ever been. Luthor probably had no idea just what he was creating.

“I feel like… hitting something,” she sobbed a while later.

“I know.” He held her a bit tighter.

When she finally calmed enough to talk, she asked, “Can I hit you?”

He laughed softly. “You’ve done that already.”

“Yeah. But I was asleep.” The laughter rolled through his chest, against her cheek. And it was contagious. The crying stopped and the humor finally bubbled over. “I’m serious,” she mumbled after she calmed. “I’d at least like to remember it so it’ll make me feel better.”

Clark smoothed the side of her head, allowing her all the time she needed. She burrowed into his chest, apparently comfortable where she was. “I could… take you to the South Street gym.”

“To box?”

“Box, kick box, wrestle. It might help.” He was only saying it to help lighten her mood, but she wasn’t laughing. Or even smiling. He could tell by the way she’d tensed up that she was actually considering it.

“I used to take self-defense classes. I did it back then so I’d be prepared… just in case.” She pushed away from his chest and wiped her face. “Fat lot of good that did me.”

“Lois, you were drugged.”

“How will I ever be able to look at myself in the mirror again and not ask if there was more I could have done?” She shifted and dropped her feet to the floor. She’d pulled them up on the couch earlier. “I could have said no.”

“You did say no,” Clark reminded her.

“To the damn dates,” she spat as she stood up.

“How could you have known what kind of monster he was?”

“If I’d opened my damn eyes, I would have seen it!” she yelled at him. “I was a better judge of character than that. I knew Claude Benoit wanted to seduce me for my story. I knew Paul Herrin was sleeping with my roommate. And I knew Lex was going to hurt my baby girl. How could I *not* know he was using me? Why didn’t I know what he was?!” She threw up her hands and stomped into the other room. The light clicked on and Clark could hear her jerking open a drawer. He’d barely dropped his feet to the floor when she came back through. “I’m going running.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out.

“So?” she asked as she dropped on the chair and stuffed a foot into one of her shoes. She’d changed into a pair of sweats already.

“Lois,” he tried again.

“What?” She finished her task and stood up. The hair on her head whipped around her face and Clark was standing on the top of the landing, dressed in sweats and sneakers. “Where are you going?”

“With you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” She stomped up the stairs and reached for the door.

He actually flinched at the tone of her voice. The pure rage that spilled through surprised him. So did her defiant and aggressive posture. “Fine!” It was clear how she felt, so he’d go back to bed. He didn’t need this crap anyway. Lois never faltered as he bounded back down the stairs and flopped on the couch. The door slammed loudly and he let out an exasperated sigh. He’d handled that all wrong. Sure, he didn’t think it was a very good idea for her to go out running at three in the morning, but he didn’t have a place to object. Lois was just… Lois. She might be the mother of his kids, but that didn’t give him the right to tell her not to do something. They might be moving toward becoming good friends, but he still didn’t have claims on her.

And none of that meant a damn thing right now. He was mad. More precisely, he was hurt. He was only trying to show her that he was concerned for her. Even telling himself that this was just another coping mechanism didn’t matter. She wasn’t angry at him; she was angry with herself. Still, it didn’t make a difference. Clark was stubborn and when his feelings were hurt, he didn’t handle it very well.

He glanced at the door, briefly considering going to look for her. That would make her even madder. He could follow her from the air, but if she found that out…

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d just wait here. She wouldn’t be gone long.

Ten minutes later he was almost grateful that his hearing picked up a news break on the radio in the apartment next door. There was a pileup on the freeway. One last look at the door and he zipped out of the apartment. Lois would be here when he got back. Maybe he’d try talking to her.

Maybe by then he’d be calmed down, too.

***

Lois wasn’t back when Clark finished with the wreck on the freeway, and it was nearly dawn. By now he was a bit apprehensive. He zipped back out, flying around the neighborhood looking for her. He went to the Planet, to Perry’s, even Jimmy’s. Everywhere he took a super peek, she wasn’t there. Reluctantly he flew back to the apartment so he could shower. It was almost time for him to go to work. He decided that Lois was a big girl and could take care of herself. She’d done so up until now. Surely she could keep on.

He finished his shower, managed to eat a bite, then left for work. Lois knew where the apartment was; she’d come back when she was ready.

And what if she was never ready? his wayward mind asked him. What if everything was just too much for her to handle?

He made it to work, sat down, and called up his email before Perry came out of his office.

“Where’s Lois?” the editor asked him.

“I don’t know,” he answered without looking at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Clark looked up at him. “She went running early this morning and hasn’t come back.”

“Hasn’t come back?” Perry asked as she propped his hands on his hips.

“No.”

“Well, what in Sam Hill happened?”

“Look, Perry,” Clark started, his frustration returning full force. “She had a nightmare last night and didn’t handle the aftermath very well.”

The fire seemed to drain from the old man. He relaxed and sat down on the edge of Clark’s desk. “How was she doing before then?”

“I thought she was doing okay,” Clark admitted as he leaned back in his chair. “We went to see the kids last night and she was happy. Even planning to go out tomorrow and spend the weekend with them.” Clark pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “We talked a while when she first woke up,” he started when he looked back at Perry. “Then she got angry and stormed out.”

“What was she angry about?”

“She’s incredibly angry with herself over everything that’s happened. She feels she should have known what kind of person Luthor was, should have known what he was going to do.”

“She’s letting the guilt eat her up,” Perry deduced.

“Yeah. I tried to talk to her…” Liar, he told himself silently. If you’d tried very hard, she might not have left.

Perry stood up and reached over to squeeze Clark’s shoulder. “Lois is tougher than you think. She’ll be okay.”

Clark gave him a nod, a wry smile on his face. Perry’s expression said he didn’t totally agree either, but what could they do? He went back to his office and Clark went back to work. Or at least he tried to. He was worried about Lois and until he knew what was going on with her, he doubted he’d get a whole lot done.

***

At ten, Clark walked into the building that housed Mayson Drake’s law practice. He was immediately admitted into her office and was surprised to see Lois sitting in front of Mayson’s desk. She’d obviously showered because she was wearing different clothes. She and Mayson were laughing as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey,” he told her as he sat down, not taking his questioning eyes off her. She, however, barely looked at him.

Mayson didn’t miss the exchange between them, but she didn’t say anything. “The lawyers in Sydney won’t have the final proposal ready for you until Monday,” she informed them, thinking it best to skip pretenses and get down to business. She and Lois had been talking about the relentless pursuit of the media when Clark came in.

Clark tore his eyes away from Lois so he could focus on Mayson. “That’s fine.”

“I also wanted to address the legal issues involved with the twins…”

“What legal issues?” Clark asked.

“Well, I assumed both of you would want to formally legalize Perry’s birth.”

“How *did* you get away with keeping her all of this time?” Lois asked Clark, her eyes boring into his.

“Perry knew guys,” Clark began.

“Who knew guys,” Lois finished, very familiar with that phrase. She turned her head back to look at Mayson. “How do we do that?”

“Dan has contacted the midwife who delivered the twins. We have a formal statement of her involvement with Luthor, including the birth of both children. That, along with the evidence Paul Lang supplied, is enough to get a legal birth certificate. And to amend Collin’s. But…”

“There’s always a but,” Lois said dryly.

“This one isn’t so bad,” Mayson told her as she swiveled her chair back and forth slightly. “I think we should wait until I get the judge to decide on the legality of your marriage before we make a move with the children.”

Lois nodded, completely agreeing with her. She didn’t want anything to connect back to that monster.

Mayson looked from Lois to Clark, who kept glancing toward the other woman. He was obviously upset about something, but she wasn’t about to ask in front of Lois. “If we’re going to wait until the other decisions are made to move on Perry’s birth, maybe we should wait to discuss the rest of the situation as well.”

“What situation?” Lois asked, interrupting Clark from doing it.

“Clark’s the biological father,” Mayson pointed out. “I would assume he’d want to be their legal father as well.”

This time Clark turned his head to look at Lois. He really hadn’t thought about the legalities involved with being the twins’ father.

“Maybe we should wait,” Lois supplied.

“I’ll do this any way you want to do it,” Mayson assured them.

When Lois didn’t say anything else, Clark spoke. “Just let us know when everything comes through.”

“I’ll do that,” Mayson told him.

“Is that all?” Lois wanted to know.

“For now.”

Lois nodded at Mayson and stood up. “Thank you, for all you’re doing.”

“Not a problem,” Mayson said again. She watched the other woman hesitate before she turned and left the room. Clark, who was still sitting, sighed heavily and stood up. “What’s going on, Clark?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied. “She’s having a hard time dealing with everything that’s happened.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I know.” He glanced toward the door, then pushed his hand through his hair. “I’ll call you,” he told Mayson.

“I’ll be here,” she replied and watched him leave. She’d really hoped the exchanges she’d seen between those two weren’t a figment of her imagination. She loved Clark and wanted to see him happy. Although now she wasn’t sure Lois was who could help make that possible.

By the time Clark made it out of the building, Lois was gone. Whatever was going on with her must be worse than he’d first thought. Or she was fighting the healing process. He felt it was probably the latter. But what could he do? She was going to do what she wanted to do and there was nothing he could say that was going to change that.

***

Lois and Clark were supposed to join Jack and Jimmy that night to listen to Jack’s band play. When Lois didn’t return to the Planet, Clark bowed out. Jack was smart enough to know there was something going on and didn’t attempt to protest. Lois was still MIA when Clark went home, though he could see where she’d been there earlier in the day. He ordered pizza to eat while he watched the baseball game. It wasn’t what he really wanted to do, but what choice did he have?

He’d finally gotten over his wounded ego trip and was worried about Lois. He also knew he’d probably compound the problem if he went looking for her. Halfway through his pizza, his cell phone rang.

“Hey, CK,” came Jack’s voice when he answered. “Something’s wrong with Lois.”

“What?” he asked, leaning forward on the couch.

“She drank a lot and she’s falling over some guy she said she went to college with. They’re talking about renting a room next door at the Salem Arms.”

His first instinct was to jump up and fly to the club, but like it or not, Lois was a grown woman. “Ah, Jack, Lois is a big girl…”

“Clark, I know something happened between you two, but don’t let her do this. Jimmy’s talked till he’s blue in the face…”

“Jack…”

“Come on!” Jack’s voice gained a little momentum. “Just get off your ass and come talk to her.”

Before he could say anything else, Jack hung up. Clark closed his cell and stared across the room. Should he go? Should he take the risk that she’d hold his interruption against him? Her huge, soulful eyes flashed in his mind and he stood up. Luthor had devastated Lois and it had ruined her self-esteem. A one-night stand with a virtual stranger wouldn’t help matters any. It was worth the risk, he decided as he slipped his button up shirt on over his muscle shirt. It wasn’t cool enough for a jacket, so he pocketed his keys and headed out. She could stay angry at him for a month, but he had to try to keep her from making a huge mistake.

He entered the club a few minutes later and immediately spotted Lois on the dance floor with a blonde-haired man young enough to be illegal. Before he could cross the room the song ended and she headed toward the bar. She wrapped her arms around Jimmy from behind, causing him to wince in discomfort. He’d obviously been dealing with an inebriated Lois all night and he looked about ready to burst. A deep breath for courage and he started toward them. Lois moved from Jimmy over to another man he didn’t know. She stood between his legs, wrapped her arms around his neck while he grasped her buttocks, they grinned at one another, then kissed. He had to stop and look away, fury surging through him like he’d never known before. Although he didn’t have the right to be jealous, he was. Incredibly.

Clark reached out to pat Jimmy’s shoulder when he made it close to the bar. The poor guy looked up, relief flooding from him in waves.

“CK!” He thumbed toward the couple trying to devour one another. “Please take her home.”

The pleading look on Jimmy’s face convinced him that protecting what was left of Lois’ virtue was worth any rebuke she threw his way.

“Lois?” he said and reached out to grasp her arm firmly.

She pulled away from the man she was kissing. When her eyes focused, she grinned widely. “Clark!” One swift turn and she had her arms wrapped around his neck. “Dance with me.”

“Not tonight, Lois,” Clark said sternly and pried her arms out from around him.

Her smile turned to a scowl. “Aren’t we the party pooper?”

“Come on,” he told her, reaching over to the bar to grab her bag.

“I’m not ready to go,” she told him, tugging against his hold.

“Yes, you are.”

“Hey, pal,” the man said as he stood up. “Take your hands off the lady. She’s leaving with me.”

Clark’s eyes swept across the other man before settling on his face. “Not tonight.” Again he pulled on Lois’ arm.

She jerked away from him. “Later, Clark. Greg and I have plans.” Her eyes flashed as she gazed at the other man.

“I know. He’s going home to his wife and you’re coming with me.”

“Wife?” Lois looked at him. “Greg,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Are you married?”

The man pushed his left hand into his pocket. “No,” he said loudly. “Let’s just go get that room. In a little while you won’t care if I’m married.” His brows danced seductively at her.

Clark rolled his eyes and reached out to grab her arm again.

“Let me go,” Lois told him harshly. When his expression challenged hers, she stepped closer. “Don’t make me say things you don’t want people to hear.”

Whatever it was in her eyes, it was enough to convince Clark that he was wasting his time. He released her arm, thrust her bag into her hands, and turned to leave.

“CK!” Jimmy stepped over to block him from leaving. “Come on, man, take her with you.”

“She doesn’t want to go with me,” Clark told his friend. “Let her do this. Maybe it’ll jar some sense into her.”

“You can’t mean that?” Jimmy asked with a horrified expression.

“No,” Clark said in a low, defeated tone. “But I can’t have her shouting things I’d rather the world not know about me.”

“Oh, this is bull,” Jack announced. He’d walked up to catch the end of the exchange between them. He stepped over and grasped Lois by the arm. Despite her squealing and loud protests, he threw her over his shoulder. “Grab her bag,” he told Jimmy and headed toward the door.

“Hey, put her down,” shouted ‘Greg’.

“Back off!” Clark told him sternly and followed the other men out.

Lois was still shouting and had started pounding Jack’s back by the time they reached the end of the block. He bent back over and stood her on her feet. “Shut up!” he told her. Her mouth clamped closed and she stared at him. “You’ll thank me for this tomorrow,” he said and released her arm to Clark.

“Don’t you dare,” she told him.

“Dare what? Stop you from making a huge mistake?” When she glared at him, he glanced back at the bar. “Fine. I’ll rent the room myself. Hell, I’ll take a few pictures so you’ll have a reminder tomorrow.” For the second time in twenty-four hours, Lois hit Clark. Only this time she’d done it on purpose.

“Go to hell,” she breathed before she snatched her bag from Jimmy. She jerked her arm from Clark’s grasp and stormed across the street.

“Damn!” Jack commented. “That’s pure fire and ice right there.”

“She’s messed up, Jack,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I know,” the younger man said. “How could she not be after all she’s been through?” He shook his head, then turned to go back to the club.

“Need me to help, CK?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“Nah.” Clark clapped the other man’s shoulder before heading out after Lois. She walked with determined purpose, albeit in the opposite direction of the apartment. He wasn’t sure where she was going until she came to an intersection he recognized. Lois hurried across the street and into Lex Towers.

The elevator to the penthouse was sealed, so she made her way toward the stairwell. It took a few minutes but she finally managed to pick the lock on the door leading to the luxury apartment she once lived in. Lucky for her there was a fair amount of light coming in through the massive windows that made up the outside walls. Clark stayed in the shadows, watching her more with his super vision than anything else. Once inside the penthouse, she walked slowly, gazing around her. She stood in the doorway of the room with the cribs. When she’d had her fill, she headed toward another room. It must have been Luthor’s suite because he could tell that she’d started to shake as she looked around. After a moment, she eased further into the room. He could hear that she was crying, her sniffling a sure sign. As he watched, she pulled a fencing sword off the hanger on the wall and began lashing at the furniture. She swung with violent force, bringing the metal in contact with the mattress over and over. She moved from the bed to the nightstand, then a chair at the foot. With each swing sobs wracked her body.

Clark had never felt so awful in his life. What must she feel to be so distraught? What could he possibly say or do to help her?

When she’d completely worn herself out, she sank to the floor. Her sobbing had subsided. She must have been all out of the energy to even do that. Slowly she stood and started toward the door. She picked up her bag where she’d dropped it when she went in, then continued through the dark apartment. She was about to go back out the way she’d come in, but stopped and hurried back into the first room. A cabinet door in the corner banged against the wall loudly and she dug around for several moments. When she emerged again, she was holding a small shoe box. She stuffed it into her bag before she got up to leave.

Her aimless ramble took her through the park. With no particular purpose or direction, she walked in circles before finally heading toward Clinton. Clark flew ahead of her, spun into his sleep shorts, and settled on the couch to make it appear he’d been there a while when she came in. She didn’t even look at him, just hurried into the bathroom.

His head turned toward the bedroom and he sighed in frustration. Not much he could do until she decided she was ready to talk. When he heard her open the fridge and pop a top on a beer, he decided that maybe he should say something.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Have you ever been to hell?” she asked after slugging back half her brew. “Why don’t you go? You might like it.” She’d gone back into the bedroom and by the sounds she was making, she was packing.

He stood up and walked to the doorway. Sure enough, Lois was stuffing clothes into the backpack she’d had when he first found her in his apartment. She stopped her packing and walked over to pick up her bag. She dug inside for a second, then tossed some money on the bed.

“I’ll be out of here as soon as I’m done packing.” She indicated the money with her head. “For the things you bought.”

He glanced at the money, but didn’t speak. What was going on with her?

She finished her packing, then grabbed the beer from the dresser where she’d set it. After it was empty, she headed back toward the kitchen to toss the bottle. She went into the living room to look around, making sure she had all of her stuff. “I’ll see Mayson tomorrow and tell her what I want her to do about the twins.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“Just pick up the damn papers when she gets them ready.” He’d stepped back into the other room and was standing between her and the door. “Get out of the way. You’ve already ruined my night once.”

“Really?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you think *Greg* would have done a bit more than that?”

“By giving me what I want?”

“You want meaningless sex with a stranger?”

“I want you to get out of my way,” she said, punctuating each word.

“No,” he replied. “I don’t exactly know what’s going on with you, but…”

“You’re in my damn way is what’s going on!” she shouted at him.

“Fine!” He stepped aside. “Go! Go do whatever it is you feel like you need to do.” He held up his hand toward the door.

Lois stomped past him, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to grasp the banister. She stared down at the floor for so long Clark thought maybe she’d gone to sleep. “I’ve been there,” she said softly, so softly he almost had to use his super hearing. “To hell.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“You might know, but you can’t possibly understand what I’m going through.”

“No, I can’t,” he told her as he took a step toward her.

“I don’t understand myself.” She looked up toward the ceiling, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. “I feel like dying,” she finally admitted.

Clark did, too, he decided as he reached out with a hesitant hand. His grasp was gentle as he squeezed her shoulder. He needed her know that he was here for her, although he didn’t want to send her off on another tangent.

“I should have never come back.” She shrugged away from him and climbed the stairs. “Take care of them,” she said just before she opened the door and left.

Clark was standing in the middle of the small alley leading out to the main sidewalk when she looked up. “Sleep on it, Lois. Come back in and go to bed. If you still want to leave tomorrow, I’ll get you a plane ticket, bus ticket, or a car. Just don’t leave while you’re like this. What’s one more day?”

“Time enough for me to feel worse than I do today. This won’t go away, Clark.”

“You’re right. It won’t. You can run to the ends of the earth and it’ll still be there. You can walk away from your own kids and it will still be there. You can pick up a different guy every night of the week and it won’t take away the pain.”

“What will? Playing mother of the year? Or chasing stories to my next Kerth? Oh wait. I know. You can turn on that Kansas charm and seduce me into your bed. Maybe *Superman* can make me feel like a woman again.”

“Can you say that a little louder? I don’t think they heard you in Gotham City,” he said fiercely.

Lois continued their stare down for a moment before she whirled around and went back inside. Clark threw his hands up in frustration and followed her in. She’d obviously taken him to heart because she’d dropped her bags on the floor and was toeing off her shoes. She reached over and swiped up the money she’d carelessly tossed on the bed earlier, threw it onto the nightstand then jerked the covers back. She didn’t bother to turn the lights off before she crawled onto the bed, clothes and all.

“Don’t you want to take your clothes off?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked sarcastically.

Clark huffed his agitation and stepped into the room to turn the light off. Damn, if she wasn’t a stubborn woman! He flipped off the rest of the lights and dropped onto the couch. And he was giving up his bed for this treatment?

“Superman is a whole lot easier to deal with than this,” he mumbled to himself as he flopped backwards. Of course, being super was what got him involved with this woman to begin with. Well, not technically. Perry did that. But his super side had forever tied him to that woman. How would he handle her instability?

***

Lois hadn’t slept well at all. Clark heard her get up four times before he decided he wasn’t going to sleep any either. It was nearly dawn so he rose and went to gather his clothes so he could shower. He was as quiet as he could be, even though she wasn’t sleeping. He could tell by her breathing. She had the covers pulled up to her neck tightly and she didn’t move. He glanced her way and her blink told him she was staring across the room. He finished gathering his clothes and went to shower. Lois would talk when she was ready.

If she was ever ready.

When he went back into the other room, she was sitting on the window seat with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them. There was a cup of coffee on the window seal and he almost smiled. If she felt well enough to drink coffee, there might be hope.

He pulled a button down shirt on over his muscle tee and stepped over to the mirror to comb his hair. It was Saturday- the first one he’d had off in a long time. He planned on flying out to see his babies for the day. He grabbed his shoes and went out to the living room to slip them on.

“Can I still go?”

Clark looked up to see her standing in the doorway, looking for the world like a lost child. “Of course you can go,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Do you need to take a shower?”

She nodded, wiping the tears that were spilling from her eyes, then turned to go back in the other room.

He sighed as she gathered up her clothes and went to take a shower. Over the steady spray of the shower, he could hear her sobbing. Then she started to talk angrily.

“You won’t win! You can’t win. I won’t let you.” Her breathing was labored and hard between her crying. “Dammit, I won’t let you,” she said again. The chanting continued in the same vain until the shower stopped. She was sniffling now, obviously trying to get control of her emotions before she came out. He stopped listening and went to grab some coffee for himself.

When she came into the kitchen, he was writing out a check for the light bill. “I need to drop this in the mailbox out front when we leave.” She didn’t say anything, just went over to dump the rest of her coffee in the sink and rinse out her cup. He sealed the envelope for the bill, then closed his check book. He returned it to the drawer he kept it in, turning the lock after he did. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” She disappeared into the bedroom and when she came out, she was carrying the small backpack. “Is it okay to take this? I have some things for Collin and Perry.”

“Yeah. Just slip it on.” She did and he led them out the door. “I’ll be right back.” He ran to the front and put the bill in the drop box. She was in the back of the alley, where they’d taken off from last time, when he came back. “We’ll have to get up and go in a hurry today.” Nothing, but she did lift her arm. He reached down to pick her up and was off. It didn’t even cause her to blink today. He didn’t slow down until they were high enough not to be seen. And then it was only enough so Lois could breathe easily. He figured the sooner they got to Kansas the better. She wasn’t in a talking mood.

They made the journey in silence, but the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. He landed beside the barn and set her down. He held up his hand for her to go ahead of him. Although she looked totally distraught, she started walking slowly toward the house. They were just about there when the back door banged open.

“Daddy!” Perry ran toward Clark as quickly as she could, her feet leaving the ground when she was within a foot of Clark. He reached down and caught her, swinging her around.

“Hi, sunshine!” They exchanged their usual nose rub and Clark gave her an appropriate dose of kisses. “How’s my big girl?”

“I’m good!” She looked over and grinned at Lois. “Hi, Wois!”

“Hi, Perry,” Lois said with a watery smile.

“Did you come to play?”

“I did.” She pulled the pack from her back and opened it. “And I brought these.” She held up a bag of donuts. “For our tea party.”

“I like donuts!”

“I thought you might.”

Perry struggled against her daddy’s grasp and he set her on her feet. “Come on,” Perry told Lois.

Clark could see Lois was still struggling, but at least she was willing to play with Perry. They went inside and he followed a few moments later. “Hi, Mom,” he said and kissed his mom’s cheek.

“What’s wrong with Lois?” Martha whispered when Lois and Perry had entered the playroom.

He grasped his mother’s arm and pulled her out to the porch. “She’s struggling pretty badly.”

Martha looked back at the house. “That poor girl.”

“Don’t expect her to act like she did the other night. She’s in a really bad place right now.”

“We’ll just have to carve her a wide berth.”

“Oh yeah,” Clark agreed as he opened the door to go back in. “Where’s my boy?”

“On the tractor with his grandfather. I can call them.”

“I’ll go out and find them.” He grabbed a biscuit from the basket and grinned when his mother swatted his rear. As he crossed the backyard, he decided that maybe what Lois needed today was to be here with Collin and Perry. They’d sure made him feel better on more than one occasion when he was down. If that didn’t work, he didn’t know what would.

***

By lunchtime, Lois was smiling and laughing as she played with the twins. They’d had tea, drove toy cars through the house, had a race on the swings, rode the tractor with Jonathan, and explored the farm. Even though she looked happy, Clark could tell that the smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes. He saw the deep shadows marring her expressions, but she plowed along as bravely as she could. She shared donuts with the twins and gave each a toy- Perry a rag doll, and Collin a football. She also had new outfits for them both.

She was certainly resourceful, he thought as she gave the kids their gifts. Mayson probably gave her an advance on her money.

Lois shared a picnic lunch with the twins on a blanket near the pond. They blew bubbles and flew a kite. Clark was happy to allow them this time to spend alone. He helped his dad make some necessary repairs. Wayne Irig’s son was going to move into the bunk house near the south side of the property and care for the cattle when his parents moved to the city. They’d discussed leasing the farm, but would make a final decision later.

By dinnertime, Lois looked a lot better than she had earlier in the day. She talked mostly with Collin and Perry, although she answered the few questions his folks asked her. As much as Clark loved visiting his twins, he was glad when it was time for bed. Lois read the bedtime story on the sofa after the kids were bathed and in their pajamas. Each one gave her a hug, then went up to bed. Lois had told Martha and Jonathan that she would stay next time and after Clark said good-bye to his parents, they left.

When they landed outside the apartment, Lois hurried inside. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and went in behind her. She was sick again, but this time he left her on her own. He kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the couch, deciding to give Superman the night off. He’d been out a few times today and things seemed quiet.

Lois showered again before she left the bathroom. She was wearing a pair of Clark’s shorts and one of his shirts when she went into the kitchen. Although Clark’s eyes glanced at her from time to time, he didn’t lift his head from where it rested on the back of the couch. He was trying to appear interested in the game.

After pouring herself a glass of milk, she went back to the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, she clicked the light out. He sighed heavily and forced himself to remain seated. This was beyond ridiculous now. She needed to talk, even if she didn’t want to.

“Would you accept an apology?” Lois said from the other room, trusting him to hear her. “Don’t answer that. Just…” She sighed. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I’m just tired of hurting… all the time.”

“It’ll get better,” he said loud enough for her to hear him without shouting.

“I know. I’ve just never been very patient.”

He smiled at that. No kidding! He hadn’t known Lois but a few days and already knew that much about her.

“I want to wake up and breathe without dragging air into my lungs to do it. I want to work like I used to, not wonder if each new thing I uncover is related to that monster. I want to… look at men without wanting to choke the life out of them just for being male.” The covers ruffled and she sniffed again. “I want to love my children without hating how I got them.” She was silent for a long time before she said, “I want to call their father my friend and not want to rip his eyes out at the same time.”

Clark’s head snapped toward the bedroom.

“I don’t mean to, Clark. I don’t want to. I happen to think you’re an amazing person. And you’re the hottest son of a bitch I’ve ever met. But at the same time…” She sniffed again. “I don’t hate you or anything. And I’ve only had that thought once or twice.”

Since she’d mentioned it, Clark could completely understand how she felt. She blamed any and everybody for what happened to her, including him. It was natural to do so, and whether she realized it or not, it was also a huge part of the healing process.

“I’d rather tease you and flirt with you shamelessly,” she admitted after a long silence.

He laughed softly. He’d rather she did that, too. He’d missed her teasing, no matter how much it affected him.

“Thank you… for stopping me last night.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, although he wasn’t sure she heard him. The relief he felt knowing she hadn’t spent the night in a hotel room with… *Greg* made him lightheaded. If she’d gone off with that man…

“Thank you… for listening.” She burrowed into the bed and sighed. “I love our twins,” she felt he should know. “And I haven’t felt as alive as I did today in a really long time.”

“I’m glad,” he said. She was quiet again and before long her slow, steady breathing told him she was asleep. She probably needed to sleep. More correctly, she needed to rest. He briefly wondered if she’d see someone, get a prescription to help her sleep.

He shifted so he could lie down. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

***

She was watching him; he could feel it. He slowly opened his eyes and she was right there.

“Hey,” she told him softly.

“Hey,” he replied without moving.

Lois just stared at him, not saying a word. He stared back for a moment, then closed his eyes again. She could sit there the rest of the night if she wanted to. He was tired. Superman had been needed a while ago and it was draining as hell keeping up with her. Not that he had.

There was movement, then she sighed. He opened his eyes when she grasped the fingers of the hand he had draped over the side of the couch. Lois was lying on a bed she’d made up on the floor. Suddenly he realized that she fought against him so hard, against herself so hard, because she was scared. She was probably closer to being terrified. For a woman who’d been independent and strong, able to care for herself, it was almost impossible for her to cope with the fact that she’d been stripped of her self-control. What she needed more than anything was to feel safe again. Until she did, she wouldn’t be able to regain her confidence.

Did she feel safe with him? She’d moved her bed next to him and held his hand- it must indicate some kind of trust in him. As he smoothed his thumb over the fingers that held his, he made up his mind that if being close to him made her feel better, she could hold his hand all the time.

She went back to sleep, and after watching her a while, so did he. When he woke up again, she was sitting on the floor, leaned back against the couch so that if she turned her head, their faces would be inches apart. She was still holding his hand where it hung across her shoulder. The television was playing a cartoon movie and she was actually laughing now and then. He moved a little, squeezing the hand she held. She turned her head and looked at him.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked him.

“Uh uh,” he told her and shifted so that he was lying more fully on his side. He’d been on his stomach when he woke up, the same position he was in when she reached up to hold his hand earlier. His new position brought his face closer to her head. The small of her shampoo, or his, invaded his nostrils. “You smell… manly.”

That caused her to laugh. “If you’d buy some decent shampoo…”

“What’s wrong with my shampoo?”

“Nothing, for you.” She released his hand and shifted so she could see his face. To prove her point, she reached up to play with his dark hair. “How do you manage to get all of that gel out?”

He let out a grunt of laughter. The hand she’d released came up to smooth across her back. “Heat vision.”

“Really?”

“Mmm,” he said and closed his eyes. She was still playing with his hair and it felt good.

“Hey, Clark?”

“Umm?”

“I noticed that Perry talks better than Collin.”

His eyes opened again so he could look at her. His gaze was reflected right back while she waited on his answer. “We had Perry a year longer,” he told her. “Doc Nate says that he’s right on course.”

“Okay,” she said and laid her head over against his arm. “That feels good.” He was still rubbing her back. His hand stopped and he was about to draw away. “Don’t stop,” she begged. He put his large hand back and moved it around on her body again. “I went to see Lucy.”

“How is she?”

She lifted her head to look him. “In a lot of ways she’s probably better off than I am.”

“Don’t say that,” he said softly.

“Would you miss me?” The teasing glint was back in her eyes and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe when I didn’t have anybody else to talk to.”

She elbowed him in the chest, causing him to grunt. “You know what, Kent? You can just bite me.”

He pulled her arm up to his mouth and bit her before she knew what happened. She jerked her arm away, her mouth hanging open as she stared at him. “You told me to,” he said innocently.

“What if I told you to jump off a bridge? Scratch that. You wouldn’t even hit bottom.” She turned back around and leaned up against the couch with a sigh.

The hand that had been on her back went around her chest and grasped her by the arm so he could pull her back, closer to him. “Want to jump with me?” he asked next to her ear.

“It depends on where we’re jumping to,” she replied as she lifted her hand to grasp the arm across her chest. “Or what we’re jumping into.”

Her close proximity threatened to send his system into shock. But for the life of him, he couldn’t pull away. His thumb stroked her shoulder and he turned his head into the side of her face, inhaling deeply.

“Clark,” she breathed, his action causing her to close her eyes. Her hand squeezed his arm tighter.

“Do you realize what you do to me?” he asked her softly. “Just being in the same room.”

She swallowed hard, her body feeling completely alive.

Clark shifted so that he could push her hair off the side of her face with his other hand. “Help me, Lois. Help me find the woman under all the pain.” He rubbed his face against hers. “If you affect me this much now, just think how much you’ll move me then.”

Lois felt the tears sting her eyes. How could she possibly cry anymore? She shifted so she could turn around. Clark recognized her need and wrapped his arms around her, giving her the comfort she sought. When she’d cried herself out, she drew back to look at him.

“I’m really high maintenance.”

“I like a challenge,” he said with a grin, his hand going up to cup her cheek.

She let out a humorous snort before leaning over to rub her nose against his the way their twins did.

Clark was the one to pull her back into another hug, needing the time to calm his raging nerves. She’d sent him into hyper drive and his body was behaving like a teenager.

From a damn touch! On the nose!

When he drew back, she was smiling. “Let’s go do something fun today,” she said as she pulled away and stood up.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “What do you like to do?”

“I could name a few things,” he mumbled as he sat up.

“Still hear you,” she called over her shoulder on the way into the bedroom.

“Still want you to,” he declared as he stood to gather up all of the covers. He zipped through the apartment and put the folded cover in the window seat. Lois stopped what she was doing and grinned at him.

“Not very original,” she said.

“Might not be original, but it *did* impress you.”

“And how would you know that?” she asked as she folded her arms across her body.

“Your eyes… they tell me way too much about you.”

“Then maybe I should start wearing shades.”

“Ah, but I can still see your eyes.” He shook his finger like that was a no-no as he stepped around her to get clean clothes out of his dresser.

“Damn! I forgot about that.” Lois snapped her fingers, still smiling widely. She had so much fun teasing Clark.

“Should I cook breakfast or do you want to go out?” Clark was pulling a shirt from the closet.

“Let’s go out. I know this great little place in Hobs Bay.”

“Lola’s Cafe?”

“How did you know?” she asked as she turned his way.

“I like to eat, too.”

She threw a shirt at him, then started toward the bathroom. “Me first.” She stopped in the archway and looked back. “Or you could just join me.”

Clark grinned, then pulled his head out of the closet to grin at her. “What are you going to do the day I take you up on that?”

Her eyes swept the length of his body before settling back on his. The dark orbs were nearly black now, a few naughty thoughts undoubtedly dancing around in her head. “I could think of a couple of things,” she told him honestly.

The grin faded from Clark’s face as they stood there staring at one another. His body was screaming at him, the attraction for this woman undeniable.

“I have to tell you another reason you unnerve me so much is because I’m so damned attracted to you,” she told him softly.

“And that bothers you?”

“No. It…” She glanced away to break the tension between them. “Okay,” she said when she looked back at him. “It *does* bother me a little. Not that I don’t like being attracted to you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just have all of this stuff… rambling around in my head. Then when I look at you…” Her eyes went back to his. “The storm can be raging out of control, but one glance at you and…” She glanced toward the bathroom. “I’m going to shower now because I’ve said too much.”

Before he could say a word, she disappeared behind the bathroom door. He sighed heavily because he knew how she felt. He was so incredibly attracted to her it was starting to be painful to be close to her. Lois was unlike anyone he’d ever met. And he was pretty sure he hadn’t even scratched the surface on her true personality yet. Granted, with all that had happened to her, he might never know the person she was, but he was certain the person she was going to become would be one heck of a woman. He was glad he’d met her.

***

Lois had put on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt that accentuated all of her feminine positives. Damn, Clark thought as he started toward the bathroom. He was glad he was a man.

“Hey?”

He stopped and turned back toward her. “Yeah?”

“Do you have Jimmy and Jack’s numbers stored in your cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I call them? I think I need to apologize to them for how I acted the other night.”

“Lois, they understood. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have called me or helped me get you out of there.”

“Yeah, I know, but I would still like to apologize.”

Clark smiled and pointed toward the living room. “It’s on the table beside the couch.”

She gave him a grateful nod of her head and went to make her calls. Clark closed himself off in the bathroom and a little while later, they were stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“You know, if we had a car, we could drive up the coast. Maybe have a picnic on the beach,” Lois said as they walked along.

“Do you like the beach?”

“I love the beach. I also like the mountains. Not so crazy about the outdoors… you know, camping, hiking, stuff like that.”

Clark chuckled softly. “I can see that.” He held up his hand and waved a cab to the curb. They crawled in and Clark gave the cabbie an address at the bay. They shared breakfast over light conversation, mostly about the places Lois missed. She told him about several of the restaurants she liked eating at, where her favorite grocery store was, and where she used to rent movies. He was content to listen, sprinkling in questions here and there. When they stepped outside again, Clark hailed them another cab. Lois was the one to look at him in surprise when they pulled to a stop outside the city, in front of a car dealership.

“Clark?”

“What?” He glanced at the building. “There’s a silver Jeep I’ve been eyeing for a while. You’re right. We need a car.”

“We?” she asked him with a quirked brow.

“We,” he stressed as he gently guided her toward the sales lot at the end of the building. “I know how you feel about me, sweetie. You’re not going anywhere.”

She glared at him, but he just waggled his brows back at her, causing her to laugh softly. They stopped next to a Jeep and Lois looked at it carefully. “You have good taste in cars,” she told him.

“Yep,” he replied as he opened the driver’s door and popped the hood.

“What are you looking for?” Lois asked as she stepped up beside him.

He smiled at her as he looked around at the engine. “There *is* more to a car than putting gas in it and driving it.”

“I know.” She stuck her lip out in a pout. Actually, she didn’t know. She’d always done exactly what Clark said- put gas in and drove. Okay, so there probably was all kind of things you had to do to take care of one.

When Clark was satisfied, he closed the hood. Moving back to the door, he sat down behind the wheel.

“Mr. Kent,” called the salesman as he approached the vehicle. “Are you ready to buy that thing yet?”

“Yet?” Lois asked him from where she stood beside him in the open door.

“I’ve looked at it a time or two,” Clark told her.

The man stopped a few feet away from them. “I have the paperwork ready to go, Mr. Kent. You can be out of here in less than thirty minutes.”

Clark looked over at Lois. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“What are you asking me for?”

He arched a brow at her. “Do you like it?” He stressed every word.

She sighed and pulled on his arm for him to get out. When he had, she took his place in the driver’s seat. She set the rearview mirror, flipped the visor down and looked at herself in the mirror there, then smiled at Clark. “Yeah, I like it.”

He grinned back at her before turning to the salesman. “Do the paperwork.”

“Yes, sir. Just meet me inside whenever you’re ready.” He turned and hurried toward the building. He’d been trying to convince Clark to buy the Jeep for a while now.

“Clark, this car is brand new,” Lois said as she leaned over to peer at the dash. “There’s like less than two miles on it.”

“Good.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets as she climbed out. “You look good in it.”

“Oh, honey, I look good in anything.” She patted his chest and started toward the building.

He chuckled and shook his head. So true, he thought as he watched her walk from behind.

So, so true!

***

After signing all of the paperwork, making a call for insurance, and waiting until the Jeep was detailed for delivery, the couple climbed into the new vehicle and drove up the coast. They drifted in and out of a few antique shops in a small, beach town. From there they headed toward a large thrift market Clark knew about. Lois haggled with several vendors over things she wanted, which amused Clark to no end. They grabbed sandwiches from a cafe beside the road and headed down to the beach for a picnic lunch. Luckily they found a park with tables. They inspected the lighthouse at the end of the pier, then took off their shoes to walk in the edge of the water while they talked.

Although it was May, the beach was still fairly empty. Up until now, talk had revolved mostly around things they’d done as teenagers, places they’d been, and people they’d known. Lois had done a lot of the talking, but she’d asked dozens of questions when Clark talked about traveling. Afternoon was beginning to wind into early evening, but neither seemed to be in a hurry to get anywhere.

Lois shook her head again to get her long hair off her face. “I think I’m going to get a haircut. Something short, easy to take care of.”

Oh, God, Clark thought as he looked at her. Don’t do that. You’ll expose that delicate neck and…

“What?” she asked, noticing the look on his face. He blushed and looked away, a sure sign his thoughts hadn’t been exactly platonic. She grinned widely, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “Would you miss my long hair, Clark?” she asked in a girly voice.

“Shut up,” he told her and edged her toward the water. She’d teased him relentlessly today.

Laughing softly, she dodged the surf. Clark was so great to hang out with. He’d had to leave her hanging a couple of times today to go be Superman, but he’d hurried back both times. It was so odd hanging out with the Man of Steel. Yet it felt as natural as breathing. Something else she refused to mull over. Lois didn’t understand why she felt so comfortable with Clark; she didn’t care. She’d decided earlier in the day that he made her feel good and she wasn’t about to analyze it.

“Hey, Clark?”

“Umm?” He was looking down at the sand, trying to find perfect shells.

“I know I’m a mess.” That caused him to lift his head toward her. “I know I should probably talk to someone- a professional. But I feel comfortable with you. And well, I thought I could talk to you. You *did* say you’d listen.”

Clark grasped her arm to stop them so he could look into her eyes. “You can talk to me all you want to. I can’t promise I’ll know what to say or how to respond…”

“I’d just like for you to listen. You don’t have to say anything.”

“I have super hearing,” he reminded her as he tugged on his lobe.

“And I might use it sometimes. You know, like I did last night.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You sure it won’t be too much for me to dump on you?”

“Tell you what… You dump on me and I’ll dump on you.” She furrowed her brows in question. “Like I did the other night after that rescue. Sometimes I need to vent.”

A smile spread across her face. “Deal,” she said and held out her hand to shake on it.

He shifted the bucket they’d brought to the beach with them after depositing their shoes in the car so he could grasp her hand. “Deal.”

“I might… get loud sometimes,” she told him without releasing his hand.

“I’ll stand on the balcony. Or the top of the building.” She laughed softly. “Whatever you feel like you need to do,” he told her.

“Okay,” she replied as she looked into his eyes. He had such great eyes. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Take your glasses off.”

He glanced around them. There were a few people, but not really a crowd.

“Come on. We’re a hundred miles from Metropolis. Nobody knows you. Well, except for that crazy man at the flea market.” There had been a man at the flea market that recognized Clark and asked Lois if she was Lois Luthor. Clark had to haul her off to keep her from tearing the man’s eyes out. She’d been fairly lucky following her expose on Lex in regards to being hounded by the media. Sure, there had been a few bottom feeders hanging around the Planet the next day, but most had left her alone. She’s wasn’t sure why that was, but she was grateful.

“Why do you want me to take off my glasses?” he asked.

“You have great eyes and I’d like to see them.”

Those great eyes glossed over and he swallowed hard. Lois really did a number on his system. He continued to hold her gaze as he pulled his frames from his face, folded them up, and stuck them in the pocket of the shirt he was wearing. “Better?”

“Much,” she told him, her own eyes glistening in the afternoon sun. She grabbed the bucket from his hand and went back to combing through the shells. Clark wanted to collect enough corkscrew shells to make the twins a necklace. “Found one!” she yelled and bent over to retrieve her prize. “Why didn’t we go see them today?”

“Because you wanted to do something fun,” Clark reminded her as he picked up another shell.

“Oh, yeah. Will you fly me out later? I’d like to stay with them a day or two.”

“Sure,” he said as he glanced at her. “I think you need to stay with them a while alone. Well, not really alone since my folks will be there. But alone. You know, without me.”

“Clark?” He shut his mouth. “Don’t ever say you don’t babble.”

Chuckling at her, he went back to his search. They had half a bucket full when they made the trek back to the car.

“The only thing I hate about the beach,” Lois said as she rubbed her feet together to rid them of the sand.

“Grab your shoes. There’s a spigot over there.” Clark pointed toward the water supply. They washed off, put their shoes back on, and set out toward Metropolis. There was about an hour of daylight left when they turned the corner onto a street Lois recognized.

“Are we going to Perry’s?”

“Nope. I’m taking you to see the house I bought.”

“It’s on the same street as Perry?”

“Across the cul-de-sac. We’re the only two houses at the end of the block.”

“Wow!” Lois said as they pulled to a stop in the driveway. “It’s beautiful.” She tore her eyes away from the structure to look across at Perry’s house. He’d done a few renovations since she’d been here last, but it still looked the same.

“Come on. We can’t go in because I won’t get a key until we close.”

“I could pick the lock,” she suggested as they went up the steps on the end of the front porch.

“Lois,” he warned. “Just peep in the windows, would you?”

She was already glued to the first one. “Dining room?”

“Yeah. The kitchen’s off behind it. There’s a large den at the back and another room that I’d like to use as an office.”

“Living room,” Lois commented as she peered through the window on the other side of the front door. “How many bedrooms?”

“Four. And a loft on the third floor.”

“Nice,” she said as she headed back toward the steps. Around the back, through a gate, the paved drive led to a huge garage. “How many cars do they expect you to have?” The building could hold two and stairs on the side led up to what must be the space he and his parents had mentioned that could be an apartment. “How big is that place?” she pointed.

“Right now it’s just one huge room with a bathroom. If we renovate, it could easily be transformed into a small apartment. For that matter, we could use part of the garage, too.” He shrugged as he walked toward the back of the house.

“A pool!” Lois said loudly. There was an in-ground pool to the right of the patio.

“You like it?” Clark asked with a smirk on his face.

“How can you afford this place?”

“It was headed into foreclosure. I offered the payoff to the mortgage company and they accepted. I got it for less than half what it’s worth.”

“Get out of town!”

“I’m working on it,” he joked. The new house was in a subdivision just outside the city. If one had to live outside the city, this was the place to be. Away from the hustle and bustle, it was still close enough to make the commute so short that you wouldn’t miss the convenience.

“Funny,” she told him as she walked closer to the pool area. There was a fence that closed the entire section off from the rest of the backyard. “Maybe there should be an alarm on this gate,” she suggested, thinking of the twins’ insatiable curiosity.

“And another one in the pool itself. That’s the first thing I looked into before I made an offer on this place.” He pointed toward an area in the back corner. “I thought maybe I’d build a play area back there. Big jungle gym with some of that spongy flooring to keep them as safe as possible.”

“Small enough to put a top on it so that they won’t get burned in the heat?” she asked him timidly.

He grinned at her. Even though there were quite a few shade trees in the large lot, the added protection from the sun would be a nice addition. “Yes, Mom,” he groaned, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“When do you think they’ll want to call me that?” Her smile had faded and she was walking toward the back of the yard.

“Before you know it,” Clark said and went after her. “You’ll get tired of hearing it.”

“I doubt that,” she told him as she leaned to sniff a rose. There was a small garden beside the garage.

“They’ve seen pictures of you. I’m surprised they haven’t put the two together yet.” It was only a matter of time though. Especially with Perry. She’d inherited her mother’s curiosity.

“You showed them pictures?”

“Sure. We’ve talked about you with them, too. It really is surprising they haven’t remembered it yet.”

“I guess they will.” She pointed toward the garage. “Can I pick the lock on this one?”

“No.” He waved her toward him. “Come on. Let’s go bowling.”

“Bowling? Ah, no.” She walked past him, looking up at the windows on the side of the house. “At least you won’t have to do a lot of work to the place.”

“Yeah. It was just renovated two years ago. The couple that lived here divorced. He lost his cushy CEO position and she moved back out west.”

“Did they have kids?”

“Nope. Yuppies from California, came over when he got a job with LexCorp.”

“What?” she asked she stopped.

He nodded. “Mayson was the one that told me about this place. Dan found out about it.”

“Dan? He’s been mentioned before.”

“Dan Scardino. Ex-DEA turned private detective. Also Mayson’s husband.”

“Husband? But I thought you and she…”

“We did. She and Dan were separated at the time. Although she didn’t mention she actually had a husband when we first started dating.” He winced as he remembered the night he found out.

“Ouch!”

He shrugged helplessly. “We moved on. She and Dan are actually back together.” He motioned with his thumb behind him. “They’re buying the house next door.”

“No,” Lois breathed.

Clark nodded in the affirmative. “Which works well for me. You know…” He made a flying motion with his hand.

“Guess it would.” She started toward the car again. “Maybe you should build a balcony outside your bedroom window.”

“There’s that brilliance again.” He’d already thought of that. He pulled the keys out of his pocket. “Want to drive?”

“I can’t. Don’t have my license. Remember?”

“Sorry. I forgot.”

“Will you take me to get it when Mayson gets me all worked out?”

“Sure. Then I’ll let you drive me home.” He winked at her and they climbed in. “Where to?”

Lois stared at the house for a moment before looking at him. “Can I live with you?”

His brows jumped up in surprise. “What?”

“Live with you and the twins… in the house,” she clarified. “I’d really like to be close to them.” She looked back out of the window. “And to you,” she whispered.

“Ah, well…”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just get a place near the Planet. Maybe I could keep your apartment.” She pulled her seatbelt on and snapped it.

“Jack and Denny are moving into my place,” he said. “Lois, I would love for you to live with us.”

“No you wouldn’t. You hesitated…”

“I was just surprised you asked. I know Mom mentioned renovating the garage…”

“That’ll be good, but I just don’t want you going to all of that trouble for me.”

“Like having you live with me wouldn’t be trouble?” He meant it in a teasing manner, but the flash of Lois’ eyes told him it hadn’t come off that way. Her head jerked around and she stared out the window.

“Can we just go now?”

“Lois, I didn’t mean it that way.” He reached out to touch her, but she shrugged his hand off her arm. He felt like kicking himself. They’d had a really good day and he had to go and ruin it. “Listen to me,” he started. “I was teasing you. Kinda’ like you do me constantly.” Nothing. “If you think you’d be comfortable living with me, you’re more than welcome. I’d love to have you that close to the twins. Hell, we’ve been living together for the past few days anyway. And I hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere. I just want you to realize what a huge commitment that is.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she said softly.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to live with us for that reason.”

“I want to be with my kids and I want them to be with you.” She finally turned around to look at him. “I want them to be with their grandparents…” She stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. “I can’t live with you. I’d be edging out your folks.”

Clark smiled at her. “Maybe that apartment above the garage would be more suited for them.”

“What?”

“Mom and I talked about it yesterday. She thinks it’s time I take care of the kids more. And since you’re their mother and you’re here…” He finished with a shrug and turned the engine of the car over.

Lois sat back and looked out the window again, a faraway expression on her face. “Your mom is… unlike anything I’ve ever thought a mom should be. Mine left long before she died. Her depression over losing Collin, then her strained marriage… Lucy put a smile back on her face for a while, but she was lost by then. I went through six different nannies before Lucy. Four after, before I declared myself old enough to take care of both of us.” She sighed as they stopped for the sign at the end of the road. “I was only ten. Then mom died a few years later and I moved out a year after. I’ve been on my own ever since.” Her eyes shifted to the large, warm hand that covered hers. “She told me that she’d always wanted a daughter,” Lois whispered, talking about Martha. “And she doesn’t even know me.”

“You two are going to be good friends,” he said softly, slipping his fingers through hers as he maneuvered them into traffic.

“I hope so,” she said so softly he had to use his super hearing. “Hey,” she said suddenly, perking back up. “Let’s call Jimmy and Jack and see if they want to hang out tonight.”

“Sure. What do you want to do? Dinner? Dancing?”

“Ah, no. I don’t think I want to see another club for a while.” That made him chuckle. “Is it too corny to stay in and play a board game or something?”

“Not if you like Trivia. Jack loves that game. We usually try to play at least once a month.”

“Call ‘em. They’ll come for you.”

“Come on, Lois, they’d come if you asked, too.” She rolled her eyes at him, so he retrieved his hand from hers and pulled out his cell phone. Jimmy answered on the second ring and informed Clark he was a lifesaver. The poor guy had been about to explode from boredom. He’d been on an early date and now he was on his own. He’d called Jack, but didn’t get an answer. He agreed to grab chips and beer and be at his place by seven.

He had to leave a message for Jack, but the other man called back before they made it into the city. He informed Clark he’d thought of calling to ask them the exact same thing. He’d grab pizza and he and Denny would be on the way. When he told Lois they had plans, her whole body seemed to relax. She’d been worried they wouldn’t come because of her. Suddenly Clark was looking forward to showing her just how much everyone cared about her.

***

“Wow! That’s really good,” Lois said of Clark’s homemade salsa. He and Lois had stopped off at the store to grab what he needed to make the dip. It was sort of a standing tradition that he make salsa when they all got together.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You have eaten my cooking.”

“Omelets are one thing, but not many people can make good salsa. I should know. I’ve eaten every variety known to man in the last few months.”

Clark made a sour expression. That was the reason he’d picked up supplies to make a different dip as well, so she’d have a choice. “How ‘bout this one?” he asked and scooped some of the white mixture up on a cracker to offer it to her. Instead of taking it from him, she leaned forward and accepted it with her mouth. The expression on her face, the feel of lips on his fingers… His mouth went dry and his entire body vibrated. Did she have any idea what she was doing? One look told him that this time she didn’t. Or she wasn’t trying to fry his brain with her incessant teasing. She was merely tasting the food.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “Much better than the salsa.”

Clark couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Had he ever been so aroused in his life? And she was just eating a cracker. He shuddered involuntarily to think what she could do if she *tried* to turn him on.

“Clark?”

He blinked several times but it didn’t help. Stepping around her quickly, he bolted for the bathroom. He had to take a cold shower.

“Clark, what’s wrong?” she asked him, hurrying to grab him by the arm.

Before she knew what was happening, he’d grabbed her and pinned her against the wall, holding her arms above her head, his face close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. “You’re what’s wrong,” he whispered. And just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go.

She was left to catch her breath when he closed the bathroom door. It took a minute, but she finally realized what had happened. A giggle bubbled up and spilled out. “Poor baby,” she said, knowing he’d hear her. “Can I help it that I’m so… me?”

Inside the bathroom, Clark hung his head and laughed. That was why he was so attracted. She was quirky and a bit conceited, although she had every reason to be. She was brilliant, beautiful, and full of more fire than ten women. A second with her was better than ten minutes flying.

Damn! He was in trouble.

When he finally came out of the bathroom, he had the grace to blush when their eyes met. He’d been a little ashamed of how he’d reacted to her. Yet at the same time he’d been so excited he was breathless. He’d read about people feeling the way he felt, but thought it merely descriptive prose. He now knew it was very possible to feel an actual rush from an attraction to a woman.

Lois was talking with Jimmy when Clark came out and she flashed him an evil grin. She loved knowing she affected him like that, even if it did scare the hell out of her. Soon enough Jack joined the group, explaining that Denny was spending the night with his friend, Kenny.

“I was hoping to finally meet him,” Lois said of Denny’s absence.

“He likes it at Kenny’s house because Kenny’s dad hangs out with them. He’s helping Kenny restore a ‘66 Mustang.”

“Sweet,” Lois commented.

“It will be when they’re done. Fire engine red, black ragtop… Lucky kid.” Jack leaned over to pull out the board to the game.

“Come on, Jack. You do good by Denny,” Jimmy said, clapping his friend’s shoulder. They had this conversation all the time so he recognized the expression on Jack’s face.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish I could give him more.” Jack was only five years older than Denny, but he worked hard to provide for his brother. “Speaking of which, CK, could you loan me some money? Denny’s got to have a laptop for school next year and after the bills, I just don’t have the extra cash.”

Clark looked up from stuffing a chip in his mouth. “Sorry, Jack. No can do.” He winced and nearly spit the food in his mouth out when Lois smacked him against the chest. “Ouch!”

“Oh please. That didn’t hurt. But what the hell do you mean you can’t give him the money?” She was glaring at him like he’d lost his mind.

“I can’t give him the money for a laptop because I gave it to Jimmy. He’s building Denny’s laptop.”

Lois had the grace to look ashamed of hitting him. Her eyes shifted to Jimmy.

“CK asked me a few weeks ago about building him one when Denny asked Martha if he could come out to the farm this summer and work to earn the extra money to buy the computer.”

“Yeah, and everybody knows Jimmy’s the best tech guy in the city,” Clark pointed out. He was smiling when he looked at Jack, but the expression on the young man’s face sobered him instantly.

“If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times. You’re one of a kind, CK.” Jack held up his hand for a manly shake, which Clark was happy to give. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah. I want a copy of that boy’s graduation certificate.”

“Come on, man, I’m serious. I can’t let you do that.”

“No, but Denny can accept a gift. Better yet, it’s an investment. That kid’s going to college on a full ride. And I’m investing in his success now.”

“You have my permission to bust his chops if his grades slip this year.” Jack finished handing out the pieces for the game. “Now, I have to warn you, Lois. I’m the trivia champ.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, taking up his challenge. “Move over, champ. There’s a new girl in town.”

“Are we in trouble?” Clark asked Jimmy.

“So much trouble,” Jimmy replied as he shook his head.

Two hours later, the small group was laughing, shouting at one another, and having a good time. The salsa and dip was gone, the pizza had been eaten, too many beer bottles were crowding the trash can, and the fun wasn’t over yet. Lois and Jack were neck and neck on the game, vowing it wouldn’t end until one stumped the other.

“You two do know that Clark could answer nearly all of the questions in that stack?” Jimmy asked them as they bickered back and forth.

Clark was shaking his head at Jimmy, trying not to be seen.

“What does he mean?” Lois wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Clark answered and emptied his beer.

“CK wouldn’t use his vision to cheat,” Jack pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Jimmy said. “But he doesn’t need to read the cards.”

“Jimmy, why don’t you ask Lois the next question?” Clark bit out between clenched teeth, kicking the other man under the table.

“Ow!” Jimmy just wasn’t getting it. “I just thought as long as we’ve been playing this, Jack would have figured it out by now.”

“Figured what out?”

“Come on, Jack…”

“Jimmy…” Clark tried again. “Do you want to stop having game night? That’s what’s going to happen if you keep talking.”

Jimmy looked back over at Clark and shrugged. “Just thought they’d want to know.”

Lois had watched the exchange, then her eyes settled on Clark. “You know all of the answers, don’t you?”

“No!” Clark said quickly, too quickly.

“Bullsh… OW! That really hurt, Superman,” Jimmy said when Clark kicked him again.

“Do you know?” Jack asked him. “I mean, it’s okay if you do because you still play. And that’s really cool. You’re Superman and you’re sitting here playing Trivia with us.”

“Now that’s impressive,” Lois said softly as she chose another card from the stack. She didn’t miss the glance Clark gave her. “Okay, Jack, show me what you got.” She shot him another question and he rattled off the answer. He shot her one, and they continued that way for twenty minutes. They’d chosen to sit in the living room to play and when she came back from a potty break, she sat down on the floor between Clark’s legs. Clark and Jimmy had been eliminated some time ago, so they were merely serving as referees at this point. Both she and Jack were competitive as hell.

Clark only hesitated a second when she sat down between his legs. His hand touched her shoulder now and then, his body touching hers when he’d lean forward for whatever reason, all of which they seemed completely comfortable with. When Jack finally stumped Lois, Clark reached out to rub her shoulders with both of his hands.

“Poor baby,” he repeated what she’d said about him earlier.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said.

“Who’s the man?” Jack asked after he’d quit celebrating so excessively.

“Okay. You’re pretty decent,” Lois relented.

“Decent? Decent? I wiped the floor with you.”

“After…” She glanced at the clock. “Three hours!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tossed back at her. They laughed and started to gather up the game to put it away.

Lois leaned back more fully into Clark, her arms hanging over his knees. She laid her head back so she could look at him upside down. “So, can you really answer all of the questions?”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“Does being Superman make you some kind of genius?”

“No. It does cause my brain to work a bit faster than normal. I can read like a million words a minute.”

“He can type that fast, too,” Jimmy put in. “I’ve replaced six keyboards on his computer already this year.”

They all laughed aloud. “I try not to get in such a hurry,” Clark informed them.

“So, CK, when are we moving houses?” Jack asked after a moment.

“Hopefully by the middle of next month. I’d really like to be in the house before Father’s Day so we can have a barbeque.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy spoke up. “Me and Jack have already decided we’ll be more than happy to keep the pool used for you.”

“You can clean it, too,” Clark said as he leaned forward to prop his elbows on Lois’ shoulders, allowing his hands to drape in front of her.

“Why would we clean the pool when you can do it in like two seconds?” Jack asked him.

“Yeah, Clark, why would they?” Lois wanted to know, looking back at him again.

“Keep your two cents to yourself, would you? I’ll make you keep the grass cut.”

“No problem. I’m sure I can find the number for a good crew.”

Jack and Jimmy both laughed. “As long as you don’t ask her to cook,” Jimmy threw in.

“You know what, Jimmy. I used to like you,” Lois told him, causing him to laugh again.

“So, are you coming back to work soon?” Jimmy asked her after a moment.

“I don’t know. I might get to know my twins for a while first.”

“They’re the best,” Jack let her know. “Perry can bat those big, brown eyes and I’m totally whipped.”

“I remember neither of you knew what to do with her that first day,” Clark said.

“Well, no,” Jack replied. “She was small and squirmy…”

“And poopy,” Jimmy added, causing another round of laughter. “She was great though. But Collin… that kid is a tiny Clark. His heart’s way too big.”

“This guy has a big heart?” Lois asked, a teasing glint back in her eyes.

Clark pulled a hand around and cupped her chin so that he could tilt her head back. “Watch it, Lane. I can set your pants on fire with a glance.”

“Promises, promises,” she told him, that flash behind her eyes.

He grinned at her, but didn’t comment, just released her chin. “Has she always been impossible?” he asked Jimmy.

“Oh yeah,” he exaggerated. “Poor Ralph’s ego is probably still stinging from the last cut down she delivered.”

Lois covered her face with her hands. “Oh, damn! I forgot about that.”

Jimmy reached over to pop Jack on the arm. “The entire newsroom stopped. Hell, I even think the phones stopped ringing.”

“What did she do?” Jack asked, taking a drink of his beer.

“Well, you know Ralph thinks he’s all that anyway. So, he asks Lois daily to go out with him. Drops a few innuendos, some of which are rather raunchy. This one day he swaggers over to Lois’ desk, calls her ‘beautiful’, which she hated, then proceeds to tell her how he’d make her throw rocks at all other men. She stares at him for a moment, then sweeps everything she can off her desk.” He demonstrates with a wave of his hand. “Grabs Ralph and hauls him over on top of her as she falls up on the desk and starts to tell him, very loudly, to get busy.” Jack’s eyes widened in shock. “She’s yelling and moaning like they’re already going at it, saying how good he was…” Jimmy stopped so he could laugh. “Poor guy never knew what hit him. After a few minutes, she pushes him backwards and declares she needs a cigarette.” He slapped his knee a few times in his laughter. “The bastard was so… excited, he had a wet spot.”

“Which you pointed out to everyone,” Lois let them know.

“Hey, I just thought I’d help you out a little.” They all laughed, Jack trying to picture Ralph after embarrassing himself like that.

“I can see you doing that,” Clark pointed out.

“Yeah, so don’t mess with me,” she warned him with a pointed finger.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh, now that would be rich,” Jack said. “Clark being mowed down by some dame.”

“Hey! I’m not some dame.”

“No, no. I know. I was trying to picture something like that. Any woman telling Clark no…”

Lois glanced up at Clark. “What? You think women always say yes to him?”

Both of the other men replied, “Yes!”

“Not all the time,” Clark said to defend himself.

“Name one time she said no,” Jimmy challenged him.

“Me and Lana broke up. And so did me and Mayson.”

“Oh right. Who did the breaking up?” Jack wanted to know.

“Well…” Clark stopped and smiled. “Okay. But with Lana it was mutual. We just had separate dreams.”

“Uh huh. And to this day she’d jump back on you like white on rice,” Jack said as he stood up to take his trash to the kitchen.

When Clark didn’t say anything, Lois looked around at him. “I got that vibe, too,” she told him.

“Yeah, so? Lana and I have known each other since we were kids. You tend to be comfortable with people you know so well.”

“So explain us.” Lois looked at him with a very serious expression.

“I’m a man, you’re a woman,” Clark told her with a waggle of his brows.

“Smartass,” she mumbled as she settled back again.

“Man, CK, you like playing with fire,” Jimmy said as he stood up, too. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you have a wet dream in the middle of the day.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe Clark’s audacity as he put the chair he was sitting in back under the table.

“You guys don’t have to go,” Lois told them.

“Unfortunately I do,” Jimmy replied. “I’m opening up shop for Perry tomorrow. He and Alice are going to see Richard.”

“Where is he?” Lois asked.

“Rehab… again. Maybe this time it’ll stick. He nearly died from the last overdose.”

“I wish he’d get straight. I went to see Lucy and it was hard seeing her like that, knowing all of the recreational drugs she abused helped put her in that state.”

“I think Richard’s going to make it this time,” Jimmy said. At least for Perry’s sake he hoped he did.

“How ‘bout Jerry? Where’s he?”

“On the west coast, doing pretty well. Doesn’t come home nearly enough, but he’s out of trouble and working.”

“Good.” Lois smiled as she remembered Perry’s sons. Both had strayed far from the lessons they were taught growing up. But Perry had loved them and never gave up on either one.

“All right,” Jack said when he came back from a trip to the bathroom. “It was fun. Don’t get up,” he told Clark when he noticed the other man was about to stand. He clapped his hand instead. “Lois, keep this guy straight.”

“How do you do that with a joker that can fly away from you?”

“True,” Jack said as he bounded up the stairs. “Come on, Jimbo. You’re driving me home.”

Jimmy finished putting his dishes in the sink and headed for the stairs. “Later, guys. We had a blast.”

When they were gone, Lois sighed and laid her head over on Clark’s leg. “Comfortable?” he asked her.

“Very,” she answered and closed her eyes.

“Still want to fly out to stay with the twins?”

“Would it be too much trouble for you to take me first thing in the morning? It’s already past twelve in Kansas.”

Clark glanced over at the clock. “Yeah. Guess everyone’s in bed.” His eyes fell back on the woman lying against him. Her position was pure torture now that they were alone. Of course, it hadn’t been exactly easy when the guys were there. His hand went up and he smoothed the side of her face. She’d closed her eyes, content to stay where she was.

“That feels good,” she told him.

“Are you really going to cut your hair?”

“Do you want me to?”

Clark ran his hand through her long locks, trying to imagine what it would look like in her natural color. “I don’t know. I kinda’ like it.”

“Do you like the red?”

“Ah, well, I’d rather see the natural color.”

She opened her eyes to look at him. She’d turned just enough to see his face. “I thought you were partial to blondes.” Both Lana and Mayson were blondes.

“I’m partial to Lois Lane,” he admitted softly. His hand cupped her cheek, his body once again humming with suppressed desire.

“Would you go out with me?” she asked him as they stared at one another.

“I thought we did that today.” His thumb rubbed the skin under her eye, his skin tingling from the warmth radiating off her.

“I mean a real date, like where I take out my best perfume, the one I bought after seeing ‘Love Affair’- the good one, not the remake- and put a dab behind my knee, even though I have no idea why? That kind of date?”

His thumb stopped moving and he stared at her. “Are you ready for that?”

“I didn’t mean tonight or even tomorrow. I just wanted to know if you’d go… when I’m ready.”

“Yes, I’ll go.”

She shifted and stared across the room. “What if I’m not ready for… a year?”

“Then I’ll have a while to let the anticipation build.”

“I’m serious, Clark.”

“I am, too.” He reached down to pull her hair back with both hands, smoothing it out to fashion a ponytail.

“Will my living with you upset anyone?”

“What?” he asked, pausing to hold her hair up.

“Some woman won’t be upset because you’re shacking up with your babies’ mama,” she said with an exaggeration on the last part.

He chuckled and started playing with her hair again. “I’m not seeing anyone,” he told her. “You should know that by now.”

“Why not?” She leaned her head backwards again. “You’re gorgeous, rich, single, gorgeous, successful, funny. Did I say gorgeous?” When he grinned, she laughed, resting her head back completely. She missed the expression on his face. “Why aren’t you dating?”

He shrugged, unable to say anything because the position of her head reminded him just how close they were.

She looked at him when he didn’t say anything. “Sheez, Clark, maybe you do need a girlfriend.”

“You know what? All of that teasing is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said as she drew away from him and stood up. “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Okay,” he said, swallowing his disappointment because she’d gotten up. As torturous as it was having her lying on him, he would much rather have her near him than in the other room. Spending the day with her had shown him a glimpse of how good things could be… with her around. He’d already decided to call Mayson the next day to find out if she could push the closing on his house through a bit quicker. He stood up when she stepped through the doorway into the bedroom. With a sigh, he zipped around the apartment cleaning up from their game night. Seconds later he was digging his blankets out of the window seat. He turned from spreading the last blanket on the couch to see Lois standing behind him.

“I had a good time today,” she told him.

“Me, too.”

“The car’s great. And the house.”

When she wouldn’t look at him, he stepped around the coffee table. “What?” he asked her.

Her eyes slowly met his. “Could I have a hug?”

He smiled and immediately wrapped his arms around her. “Want to talk?”

“No. I just wanted a hug.” Her arms had slipped under his open shirt. Thank God he was wearing his muscle tee, Lois thought. Of course, she wouldn’t have asked otherwise. She’d just had an overwhelming desire to feel him hold her, for him to reassure her that she was still okay. “Why do you wear these tight shirts?”

“I don’t know,” he said through a laugh. “I had to buy some shirts when I was in a little village in South America once and these were all they had. Every man there, it seemed, wore them. Probably has something to do with the heat.” He shrugged as best he could while holding her. “Guess I got used to them.”

“I know I like ‘em,” she mumbled against his chest.

He squeezed a bit tighter, then withdrew so he could look at her. “Better?”

“I think I can make it through the night now,” she assured him, offering him one last smile before she headed to bed.

Clark chuckled and went to use the bathroom before he went to bed. When he came out, Lois was sound asleep. Some of the incredible pressure she was feeling must have been released today. She was learning to find that balance she needed, to heal. A final glance and he went to settle on the couch. That lady had gotten under his skin, and he was loathe to do anything about it. He wanted her near… all the time.

He closed his eyes with a smile on his face, looking forward to another day with Lois Lane.

***

As promised, first thing the next morning Clark flew Lois to Kansas. The usual rounds of kisses were dispersed, they all ate breakfast together, then Clark announced he had to get back for work. Lois walked him outside while the kids were finishing their food.

“Thanks for bringing me.”

“Any time,” he assured her. They stopped next to the barn. “Have fun.”

“I will.” She glanced out across the field. “Will you come out some?”

“Oh, yeah. I try to make it out every other day, when there are no emergencies or breaking stories.” She nodded her understanding. “You gonna be okay?” he asked, reaching out to touch her arm.

“Oh, yeah. I’m petrified, but I’ll be okay.”

“Just go with what you feel.” She smiled at him, causing his heart to do a little flip. “Hey, are you okay for money?” He reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“I’m good. Mayson gave me an advance. Oh, I forgot about that proposal.”

“I’ll check on it today.” She nodded again. “Want a hug?” She let out a breath of relief and stepped forward when he held out his arms. This felt so right, Clark thought as he squeezed tightly. When he drew back, he noticed there were tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

“Lois, I can’t stay.”

“I know.” She wiped her face and smiled bravely. “I want to do this. It’s just…” Her large, soulful eyes spoke volumes. She was scared and she felt safe with him.

His hand went up to cup her cheek and he offered her warm smile. “Call me, any time.” He pulled his hand away and dug a card out of his jacket pocket. He also took out a pen so he could scribble his cell number on the back. She took the card with a grateful expression.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

“Okay.” He stepped back and became a whirlwind. When he stopped, he was dressed as Superman and she had a brow arched at him. “Impressed yet?”

“Nah,” she told him with a grin.

He chuckled and lifted into the air. Hanging about twenty feet from the ground he gazed at her a final time, then was gone. He smiled when he heard her say wow. He missed her already, but knew she needed to do this. She needed time with the twins to help gain the confidence she needed to become their mother. She’d be okay; she was in good hands.

Lois walked slowly back toward the house, feeling more lost than she had when she was with Lex. Why was it that she felt this way about Clark Kent? From the first day she’d met him she’d felt comfortable with him. The feeling had only been confirmed when she started getting to know him. He was one of a kind and right now she missed him horribly.

Just then the back door banged open and two little tornadoes bounded down the stairs. Her frown was replaced with a smile as she looked up into two of the most beautiful faces she’d ever seen. She’d be okay without Clark for a few days, she decided. There was more than enough to keep her busy.

***

Metropolis went crazy over the next few days, as it often did. Clark chased down a few more follow-ups to Lois’ exposes, cracked a new case, and worked overtime as Superman. He’d talked to Mayson about the new proposal from the lawyers in Sydney, which nearly blew his mind. There was more money involved than he’d ever dreamed of in his life. But Franklin Luckaby had been an extremely wealthy man and with Leslie’s share already divided out, the twins would receive the rest. It would be hard to get used to having so much money, but Clark figured there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it now. He and Lois both had agreed to take the money.

Clark hadn’t managed to get to the farm except for the few minutes that he’d made it out to get Lois’ signature for the proposal. And that had only been the same afternoon he’d dropped her off. She’d called him three times, but each time he’d been too caught up to answer the call. When he’d tried to call back, she’d been occupied. By the time he made it back to Kansas, it was late Thursday evening.

Landing in the front yard tonight, Clark headed toward the porch. He’d just stepped off the steps onto the porch when Lois spoke.

“Where the hell have you been?”

His head whipped toward the swing where Lois was sitting. He hadn’t even heard her there. “I’m sorry. I’ve been swamped.”

“How will you ever be able to help take care of them full time?”

“Things will be different once we’re settled in the new house,” he tried to explain as he stepped in her direction.

“I’m sure. You’ll sleep a few doors down.”

The tone of her voice surprised him. She was angry, really angry. “Look, there’s nothing I can do to change the fact that I couldn’t come…”

“But there’s something you can do to change the fact that you’re here.” She stood up and stepped toward the door. “You can leave.”

“Lois,” he tried again as she pulled the screen door open.

“Don’t Lois me,” she said fiercely as she stepped over in front of him. “You have responsibilities now. You have more than just that damn Planet to answer to. And I know Superman is a large part of who you are, but even that has to be put on hold sometimes. Just because we weren’t in Metropolis with you this week, doesn’t mean we didn’t need you as much as whatever you felt was more important.”

Damn! She was gorgeous when she was upset. That passion was incredible to behold. He couldn’t wait until she completely unleashed it again.

“Stop looking at me like you want to jump me!”

He looked away, thoroughly ashamed of himself. He wasn’t thinking exactly that, but…

“Go home, Clark. And don’t come back until you’re ready to be part of this family.”

Before he could say a word, she went inside and closed the door. He sighed heavily and hung his head in shame. She was right. He did take too much for granted where the care of his kids were concerned. This was the first week in a long time he hadn’t flown out at least every other day. So why was this week any different? Yeah, Lois had needed the time with the twins, though he could have at least made a better effort to support her. He knew how fragile she was, and he knew how much she’d come to rely on him.

He looked up when the door opened and his mom stepped onto the porch.

“Mom…”

“Don’t you mom me,” she started as she stepped up to him. “I should tan your hide.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Clark, that woman is a mess and for some reason she feels like you’re her anchor in the storm. You should have come or called or something.”

“I know.” Clark looked down in shame.

“Now, you get yourself back to the city and you think about this. When you decide it’s time for you to grow up and be the man she needs you to be, you call and you better grovel like you’ve never groveled before.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned around and started down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom and looked up. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she replied, the frustration ebbing away.

“I talked to Mayson. I’m closing on the house Monday.”

“Oh, good. I’ve been weeding through things, packing up some stuff…”

“I’ll get a good company for the move.”

“Okay, son. Go on now.”

He nodded and walked out away from the house so he could change. He lifted into the air and floated just above the roof so he could look back. The curtain on the window of the room Lois was staying in was open and he could see Lois sitting on the bed crying. Feeling worse than he’d felt in a while, Clark slowly headed toward the east coast. Not sure how he’d handle this, he felt lost.

Clark had just changed into his sleep shorts when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“I’m surprised you’re not too busy to take your call.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose when he recognized Lois’ voice. “Believe it or not, I feel horrible.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t feel horrible when you were doing it. That’s the problem with people. They do things, knowing it’ll hurt people, but they’re not sorry until someone points out just how lunkheaded they’d been.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t staying away intentionally.”

“Intentional or not, it’s done. The damage included.” She was silent for a long moment, then she sniffed. “Clark,” she breathed. She sounded as if she was going to say something else, but then the phone buzzed in his ear, indicating she’d hung up.

He slowly closed his cell and sighed heavily. What had he done? She needed someone she could count on. Too many people had let her down in her life. He wasn’t sure why she’d decided that he was her safe harbor, but that was what he wanted to be. He wanted to help her, wanted to be the one she could turn to. Yet he had a horrible way of showing it.

As he lay down on the bed, inhaling deeply her fragrance where she’d slept on his pillow, he vowed that whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he’d become the person she needed him to be.

And he’d become the father Jonathan Kent had been to him. He’d never had as much to lose before. Superman or not, award-winning journalist or not, he was not about to trade his new life for the world.

***

Clark called the farm the next morning to apologize, but Lois wouldn’t talk to him. He flew out for lunch, taking the time to do so, and again, she barely spoke to him. He played with the twins for a bit, then flew back to the city. That evening he was back in Kansas. He shared dinner with his family and was in charge of bedtime duties that night. He went downstairs when Collin and Perry were asleep to find Lois sitting on the porch swing.

“I’ve said good-bye to my folks already,” he told her, receiving nothing in return. “I, ah, I have to fly back because I have to meet a source at dawn.” She still didn’t speak, just stared ahead unseeingly. “You look great with the kids. They seem to adore you already.” Still nothing. “I’m sorry, Lois. I don’t know how many times I can tell you that.” When she didn’t say anything, he sighed. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fly back and just leave you here? Are we going to do this when you come back to the city?”

“Who says I’m coming back?”

His brows rose in surprise. “If you want to see the twins, you will because they are. I’m closing on the house Monday.”

She turned her head slowly and glared at him. “Are you telling me that if I want to see my kids I have to play by your rules?”

“No. I’m just saying they’re coming to Metropolis to live with me.”

“And what if I think it’s time they live with me?”

“Wow! You are the most impossible woman on the face of the planet!” He’d had enough. If she wanted to be difficult, he’d help her out. “You’re not taking my kids away from me.”

“Oh really?” she asked as she stood up to face off with him.

“Yes, really!” he stressed and stared her down. They played that game for a moment before she did something that Clark would have thought impossible. She raised her knee quickly and dropped him to his knees. He felt like he’d been hit with a baseball bat. Or least what he thought it would feel like. Pain shot through him like he’d never felt before. Lois had kneed him in his groin and he could actually feel it.

“I said I wouldn’t do this,” she said angrily. “I said I wouldn’t let you get to me.”

He looked up at her with pained filled eyes, trying desperately to breathe.

“I needed one person I could count on,” she whispered, then ran down the steps toward the barn.

Finally able to drag in enough air to see clearly again, he slowly moved his hands away from his body and fell over to sit on his butt. He drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees as his stomach calmed. It seemed he learned more and more about his physiology every day. He’d never exactly attempted to see if something like that could hurt him, and now that he knew, he wasn’t likely to try it again.

He looked up at the large structure across the yard and sighed. He’d messed up and he couldn’t change it. Until she was ready to accept that there wasn’t much he could do or say to make much of a difference. Showing her that she *could* count on him was all that was left. He’d work extra hard to prove to her that he was completely different than any other man she’d ever known.

Glancing at the barn again he wondered if it was worth it. Was this what he wanted? Did he want some kind of… relationship with Lois Lane? Sure, he was tied to her now because of the twins, but did he want more? She was complicated, a complex person with layers on top of layers of pain and confusion that would probably take years to peel away. Was that what he wanted? Each day would bring another set of rules to a game he wasn’t sure how to play. Could he keep up? Did he even want to try?

As he stood up Lois’ soft crying penetrated his hearing. That sound, that simple, heart-wrenching sound told him with a resounding yes, that he did want her. In whatever capacity she’d accept him. *If* she ever accepted him again, he thought as he stepped off the porch and headed toward the barn. She had climbed the ladder up to the loft and was staring out the open door at the sky.

“Can I come up?” When she didn’t answer, he floated up because he was still a bit sore. His feet touched the hay and he walked over to the door. “I used to love the hayloft. Had my first camp out up here.” He walked over to where she was and sat down on the other end of the hay bale. “I appreciate you showing me that I’m not as invulnerable as I thought.”

“Pain is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?”

“Okay, I get it. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Just go home, Clark. I’m still too mad to make up right now.”

He sighed heavily and stood up. “Just for the record… No matter how angry I get, I’d never physically hurt you.” Not receiving so much as a flinch to indicate she’d heard him, he disappeared in a flash. He flew hard and flew fast- trying desperately to make sense out of things. Was mere attraction worth all of this?

Back in the loft, Lois leaned over on her knees. She hadn’t been angry in a really long time. Mad maybe, but not angry. Even when she’d been put in prison, she was more confused than angry. Of course, a million other emotions she didn’t understand all warred for a place inside her mind to occupy. She gave each one a position of high esteem for brief periods, but anger was the one emotion she hadn’t let come out to play. And now she knew why. People often did stupid things when they were angry. Or said stupid things. She’d certainly done that tonight.

With a huge sigh she stood up and headed inside. The Kents were in bed so she was careful to be quiet. Lifting the phone from the cradle on the table in the hall, she dialed a number she’d already memorized. The machine picked up on the third ring.

“Clark,” she started softly. “I’m sorry.”

It was merely a whisper, but Clark listened to it four times. That was all she’d said.

And it was enough. It gave him a glimmer of hope that things weren’t as hopeless as he thought they were. He’d fly out for breakfast after meeting his source. Then maybe he’d invite her to go for a walk.

***

Martha turned from the sink when Clark stepped through the back door. “Hi!”

“Hey.” He looked around, then listened, unable to hear a sound. “Where are the kids?”

“They went to town with Lois for breakfast. I think she wanted to see if we trusted her enough to be alone with them.”

“Do you?” The shocked expression on his mother’s face told him he’d said the wrong thing. He pushed his hands in his pockets and sighed- something else he did a lot of these days.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”

“And I’ll go wash my mouth out with soap.” He turned on his heel and started for the door.

“Don’t you dare fly to town and check up on her,” his mother warned him.

“Not about to. I’m going to see if Dad has some good, hard work for me to do.”

“Yeah, like anything you do would be hard,” his mother spat at him.

He waved over his head and kept walking. His dad had been putting up new fence posts in the field behind the pecan grove. He’d finish it for him and hopefully burn off a little steam in the process.

Deciding he might actually be seen if he put up the posts using his powers, he picked up the post hole diggers at the back of the barn, hung his top shirt on a hook, and headed toward the field. His father had made a bit of progress, nearly half the posts in on this side. He tied a length of string on the last post and set to work.

Lois walked along behind the twins as they ran toward the field where their father was working a while later.

“Daddy!”

“Daddy!” Both kids were yelling and running.

Clark put the tool down and turned to greet his tornadoes. Collin reached him first and he swung him up, hugging and kissing him on his face.

“Dad-dy,” Perry whined and jerked his pant leg. “My turn.”

“Your turn?” he asked as he kneeled. He set Collin on his feet and pulled Perry against his chest. He kissed her face, then rubbed her nose in their usual greeting. “Hi, sunshine,” he told her with a grin.

“I love you, Daddy,” Perry told him, a small arm still wrapped around his shoulder.

“I love you, too, sweetie.”

“What ‘bout me?” Collin asked.

“I love you, too, big guy,” Clark told him as he reached out to pull him to his other side.

Collin giggled and wiped his small hand across Clark’s large cheek. “You dirty.”

“I’ve been helping out Papa.”

Collin looked up at the posts, then on to where he saw Jonathan coming their way on the tractor. “Papa!” he yelled.

“Hey, hey. Wait until he gets here,” Clark told him, holding him around his body. “Remember what I’ve said about running in the path of the tractor?” The boy nodded. “Daddy would be so sad if something happened to you.”

“I be caful,” Collin told him, then waited patiently until Jonathan pulled alongside them and stopped.

“Well, look what I see,” Jonathan said as he opened the door of his closed cab. “How about my two favorite people join me for a ride?”

Collin and Perry squealed and ran toward the tractor. They’d long ago learned how to crawl up the large machine. Clark had purposely chosen that particular model for his father because of the oversized cab. There was more than enough room inside for the two booster seats Jonathan had built and installed so that the twins could ride along with him. Both children settled and waved at their parents.

Clark waited until they’d made it to the end of the fencerow before his eyes met Lois’. “Hey,” he said and turned to go back to work before she could answer.

Lois walked over and bent to lift a post, dropping it in the hole he’d just finished. She held it while he packed it down. She was the one who tied the string on to measure the next section. And without a single word between them, they worked together until they reached the corner. He stepped over to the end of the row and looked down the length to make sure it was straight.

“Not bad,” he said, then pulled his watch out of his pocket where he’d put it to keep from messing it up. “No wonder I’m hungry,” he said and grabbed the diggers so he could head toward the barn.

It was Lois who sighed this time before hurrying to catch up to him. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she said softly, glancing over at him as they walked.

“Damn straight. Have you seen our kids?” He waggled his brows at her as they stepped inside the barn.

Despite herself, she chuckled under her breath. The sink on the back wall was too inviting, and she stepped over to wash her face. It was pretty warm out today and she was sweating like a horse. “Dang that super skin of yours,” she said as she bent to splash water on her face. Clark was dirty, but he hadn’t sweated a drop.

He put the tool back and walked over to wait until she was done so he could wash off as well. “What’s wrong? Can’t take the heat?”

“Bite me, Clark,” she said as she pulled a couple of paper towels from the roll hanging beside the sink so she could wipe her face.

“Somehow I don’t think you’d enjoy that as much as I would,” he said and bent to wash his face.

“Yeah, well, catch me on a good day.” She wiped her neck, then her arms. “Sometimes there’s just no substitute for a little kinky action.”

Clark paused, hands halfway to his face- full of water- as his mind processed what she’d said. Heat shot through him as the multitude of wild scenarios flashed behind his eyes. After all that had happened between them, despite the angry words, even if they hadn’t smoothed their disagreement over, his thoughts took off faster than Superman. He finally managed to clear his mind enough to throw the water in his hands on his face. He stood up, a wide grin on his face, water dripping down on his chest.

“Do you sweet talk all the guys like that?”

Lois stopped in her wipe-down and looked over at him. “Just the ones who go on picnics with me and my twins.”

Clark kept his eyes on her as he pulled down a couple of towels. “What’s on the menu?”

“Fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits, and fresh fruit.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

She watched him as he finished his clean up. After he’d thrown the paper in the trash bin, he shrugged. “A man needs to eat.”

“He needs to breathe, too, but I don’t hold that against you,” she told him as she turned and started toward the other end of the barn.

Clark shook his head and chuckled loudly as he followed her out. Ten minutes later they were headed toward the pond on the back side of the property. They planned to have their lunch under the large oak next to the water.

With their blanket spread and the food laid out, Clark sat down to help Collin make his choices. Lois put food on a paper plate for Perry before helping herself.

“Do you have enough?” Lois asked Clark.

“For now,” he assured her, reaching into the cooler to dig them out something to drink. “Does anybody here drink… kool-aid?”

“Me!”

“Me!” came the answer from both kids.

He gave them each a bottled kid’s drink, then pulled a soda out for him and Lois. She took it with a slight nod of her head. An entire conversation passed between them as they looked at one another. He tore his eyes away from hers to concentrate on the twins. They all talked and laughed while they ate, content to let things rest for now.

“Daddy?” Perry asked when most of her meal was gone.

“Yes, sunshine?”

“Is Wois my mommy?”

Clark halted the progression of his chicken to his mouth and looked over at his little girl. She’d finally figured out who Lois was. He placed the food back on his plate so he could pull Perry over onto his lap. “Do you know what a mommy is?”

“Uh huh,” the little girl said with a nod of her head. “A mommy is a nana, dis younger.”

He laughed softly and hugged her close. “Something like that.”

“Is her?” Collin asked.

“Yes, Collin… And Perry,” he said as he tickled her ribs. “Lois is your mommy.”

When Perry recovered, she grasped Clark on both sides of his face, her eyes staring into his from an inch away. “Can I call her mommy?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Clark said as he leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Collin finished his chicken, wiped his hands, and looked over at Lois. “I call you mommy?”

Lois blinked several times to keep from crying. “I’d like that,” she told him softly.

“‘Kay,” he answered, downed his drink, then jumped up to go explore a bit.

Perry climbed off Clark’s lap and walked over in front of Lois, waiting patiently for her to pick her up. When she was settled so she was facing Lois, Perry’s small hands reached up to hold her cheeks. Her small nose rubbed the larger one in front of her, causing the woman to squeeze her eyes closed tightly.

“I love you, Mommy,” Perry said, then slipped off her lap, chasing her brother.

Lois swayed, her emotions nearly overwhelming her. Clark scooted over and reached out to grasp her shoulder. “Pretty amazing, huh?” She could only nod as she looked up at the twins, large tears spilling from her eyes. “Lois,” Clark whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Her eyes met his for a second, then she stood up so she could go play with Collin and Perry.

This time when Clark shook his head it was for an entirely different reason. He was happy for Lois.

And glad she’d made even a little concession where he was concerned. Maybe later they’d be able to talk. He stood up and headed toward the pond where his three favorite people were skipping rocks. Or where Lois was trying to demonstrate how to do it. This is the life, he thought as he picked up a rock, kneeling beside Collin to show him how to hold it the right way. He’d never make the mistake again of letting any of them feel like he didn’t cherish them.

***

Clark had ignored three phones calls and two news briefs on TV while he spent the rest of the day with his family. They all ate supper, then he and Lois shared bedtime duties. A note on the table when they came downstairs informed them that Martha and Jonathan had gone for a drive and the dishes were waiting.

“Subtle, Mom,” Clark said as he started the water.

“You could have these done in like two seconds,” Lois told him as she carried over dishes from the table.

“And deprive you of the experience? Not a chance,” Clark said with a grin as he started washing the glasses.

They washed in silence for a long while before Lois turned and leaned against the counter. “I’m gonna stay with Collin and Perry until the move.” She stopped drying the bowl she held and looked up at him. “That is if I haven’t earned a bed at the shelter.”

Clark rinsed the dish he held, albeit a little difficultly because Lois wouldn’t move, then he moved it over to the drainer, passing it from one hand to the other behind her back. The movement brought him to stand directly in front of her. His eyes went down to hers. “You mean if you don’t take them away from me.”

“I guess sorry means sorry only after you make someone feel like a total heel.” She shoved him backwards, dumped the bowl on the counter, and stomped out the front door.

“Damn, Clark, you must like the taste of your foot,” he said to himself. He finished the dishes at super speed before he went to try to smooth this latest crisis over. Lois was sitting on the top step, her arms wrapped around her body, rocking back and forth. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t far from it. He sat down on the porch behind her, a leg on either side of her body. Slowly he leaned forward and surrounded her with his arms. That stopped her rocking and put his face next to hers. “Sorry means sorry and I need to learn that.” He held her tighter, somehow knowing that right now she needed this. Her body was stiff in his grasp, the tension so thick he could feel it. “I’m not letting you go,” he soothed, moving his hands over the tops of hers to slip his fingers between hers. If it was possible, she was stiffer, more defiant. “Let it go, Lois.”

“I can’t,” she breathed.

“Not all at once…”

“Not all of it ever,” she pointed out.

“No, not all, but some of it. A lot of it.” He turned his face into her neck. “Right now. Right here. Scream, laugh, cry- do whatever you feel like you need to do.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know what I feel like I need to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to go claw his eyes out,” she almost shouted. “I want to hit him- hard. I want to make him feel as small as he made me feel.” By now she was shaking, her body not relaxing a bit under his. “I want to kick him where it hurts.”

“Ouch,” he said softly.

She turned her head toward his, her lips almost touching his. “I’m ashamed of myself for doing that,” she told him, talking about what she’d done to Clark.

“Don’t be,” Clark said, pushing his wayward thoughts away from their extremely close proximity to one another.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked him.

“At the time it hurt like hell,” he pointed out. Unable to stop himself, he rubbed his cheek against hers.

She drew away enough to look into his eyes. “How is it you felt that anyway?”

“I have no idea. It shocked me to no end when the pain shot through me. My stomach hurt all night.”

“I’m…”

“Shhh,” Clark interrupted her. “Sorry means sorry. You’ve said it already.”

She must have believed him because she relaxed into his arms. “Will you hold me for a while?”

“All night if you need me to.” And he tightened his arms.

“Thank you… for staying today.”

“I’ll have to go to work tomorrow.”

“I know.” She sighed and melted even further into his body.

Clark was content to sit there with her, listening to her heart beat. It thumped fast at first, then gradually slowed down. When she slumped, he realized she was asleep. How must she feel? Tension so bound up inside that you lash out at others for no reason? He suspected that as bad as her outbursts had been, he hadn’t seen the worst yet. When that dam finally broke, it was going to be catastrophic. He just hoped they all had the strength to survive it.

***

Work called the next day, so Clark hurried around the city chasing down leads. More of the aftermath from the stories about Luthor and Delconto managed to make it back to print for the Monday edition. It would probably be months before they could all put that behind them enough to move on.

Clark was winding down things to head home when Jack dropped on the edge of his desk. “I found out where Lois’ things are.”

He looked up at the younger man. “Yeah?”

“In the wine room of the penthouse. There was a storage room with boxes in it. Some of them contained her things. Her furniture was in another room next to it. My bet is Luthor put ‘em in there and forgot about ‘em.”

“Somehow I don’t see that man forgetting about anything,” Clark said as he stood up.

“How’s Lois doing with the twins?”

Clark stopped gathering his things and smiled as he remembered her expression when Perry and Collin whispered ‘goodnight, Mommy’. “They’ve figured out she’s their mother.”

“I’ll bet she was a little stoked.”

“Right now, Jack, I think that’s the best therapy she could have.” He clapped the younger man’s shoulder and finished shutting down his computer. “See you later.”

“You got it.”

Clark had every intention of heading back out to Kansas, but Superman was needed first. As soon as he was done, he called out to speak with Lois. She assured him that she was okay, so he decided to head home to get some sleep.

Monday dawned clear and bright, albeit busy as hell. Clark was chasing down a lead at dawn. He’d barely made it back to the office when Mayson called to tell him the bank was ready to close on his house. By noon he had the keys to his new place, had contracted a moving company to pack up his parents’ things on the farm and move them across the country, and another piece written for the front page. He ducked out of work early to head over to the house and make plans to start renovations on the garage apartment for his parents. With a clear direction and something to look forward to, Clark couldn’t wait to get his family to the city.

***

“So, we’re set then?” Clark asked as he polished off the pie on his plate. He and his folks had decided that as soon as he was done with the renovations, which he estimated to be by the weekend, the moving company would gather them up and haul them eastward.

Martha looked around and sighed.

“Mom, you don’t have to do this,” Clark said as he saw the expression on her face.

“Yes, we do,” she told him. “Collin and Perry need you and Lois and we need them.” She stood up and gathered up the dirty dishes from the table. “We’ve just been here a long time, son. There are a lot of memories in this house.”

Jonathan reached over to cover her hand with his. “We’re taking those with us.” The couple exchanged a look before Martha finished her task. “Now, are you two set?” They were alone at the table because the kids had already gone to bed.

“Not much for me to do,” Lois said as she stood to carry her coffee cup over to the sink.

“Actually, I do need you to do something,” Clark announced. “Mom, Lois is going with me tonight.” He stood up as if he was ready to go.

“I am?” she asked as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah. Well, please. I need you to look at something.”

Lois was sure he’d practiced that expression. The one that looked like a hurt puppy dog. If he’d look at her like that, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to deny him very much. She knew now where Collin picked up that particular art.

“I’ll have you back bright and early for breakfast,” he went on.

“Go on, honey,” Martha told her.

Lois glanced at Martha, then looked to Jonathan, who grinned. “All right, but no funny business,” she warned Clark in a teasing tone.

“Ha, ha,” he crooned as they headed toward the door. “Thanks, guys,” he told his parents and led Lois out into the yard. Before she could take three steps, he scooped her up and took off. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck, the gasp returning from his surprise take-off.

“You didn’t change tonight,” she pointed out.

“Not tonight,” was all he said as they headed toward Metropolis. He landed in the backyard of the new house in the shadows and set her on her feet.

“Why are we here?” she asked.

“I need you to pick out the room you want.” He grasped her hand and tugged her along behind him toward the house.

“Clark, any room would have been okay. You’re being good enough to let me stay…”

“Just come on.” They walked across the patio and up onto the back porch. He unlocked the door and flipped the lights on in the mudroom.

“You’ve had time to get the lights on?”

“Good friends,” he stated. “Jack made some calls for me. All of the utilities are on, the phone will be on tomorrow, and hopefully I’ll have most of my stuff in here by Friday.”

She stopped just inside the large den and looked back at him. “You’re gonna move in before us?”

“Well…” He stopped when he saw the expression on her face. “Maybe just my stuff,” he went on. “I can come out and stay in Kansas until we can all stay here together.” The flash in her eyes told him that was exactly the right thing to say and do. This was another of those things Lois felt she needed. And he wasn’t about to deny her.

Lois drifted through the large house, clicking on lights as she went. Upstairs she went from one room to another, then back again. “This place is great, Clark,” she finally decided as she stopped in the hall outside the two biggest rooms. One was obviously the master bedroom because it had a bathroom. Of course, the other one had a bathroom, too, although with just a shower stall in that one.

“I was thinking we could turn the third floor into storage and a playroom.”

“Good idea, but they can’t be up there alone until they’re much older.”

“Yeah, I know.” He walked over and peered into the large master bedroom. “So, which room do you want?”

“Clark, I’m not taking your room away from you.” She could tell by his posture that he was indicating the master suite.

“If you weren’t moving in here, my folks would have had this room.” He shrugged as if that should explain everything.

Lois folded her arms across her chest and sauntered over to the doorway where he stood. She peered inside, then grinned at him. “You know, we could always share.”

That glint was back in her eyes, indicating she was in a teasing mood. “We could,” Clark replied as he stepped so that he was straddling the threshold and leaned back on the frame. Of course, we’d have another decision to make then.” Her arched brow asked him to explain. “We’d have to pick out a bed.”

She felt good tonight, more than willing to play this game. “What’s wrong with yours? I happen to think it’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you rather have a king-sized bed? I kinda’ like to stretch out when I work and my bed is a bit confining.”

Her smile faded, the teasing glint gone as well. She turned and stepped into the room, walking over to look out of the window. It was on the side of the house next to the empty end of the cul-de-sac. Perfect for a balcony so Clark could come and go in super guise.

“Hey, what did I say?”

“Nothing,” she lied. The room also boasted a fireplace. It was the perfect room for… “You’re right. We’d have to choose a new bed. I only work on clean surfaces.”

As she walked over to inspect the fireplace, or pretend to, dawning flashed for Clark. She was curious about his past. More precisely, his bed’s past and the women he’d had in it. Of course, the only women who’d been in that particular bed was her, his mother, and Lana slept there once. He’d purchased the bed when he’d moved to the city and nothing had ever taken place in that bed more exciting than sleep. A fact that painfully reminded him just how long it had been since he’d…

“You know, we could always just use your bed.”

Lois’ head snapped around so she could look at him. “What?”

“Jack found your things, furniture included.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked over to look out of the window. “And I have to tell you, your bed is really nice.”

“Yeah,” she said, heading toward the closet. “Nice and clean.”

He walked over and stuck his head in the door of the closet. It was large enough to be a room on its own. There were shelves and drawers as well as plenty of room to hang a wardrobe.

“My bag of rags would get lost in here,” Lois commented as she stepped over to a full length mirror that had been installed in the middle of one wall.

“I have a feeling you could find a few more things to fill the space.” Clark pulled out a drawer in a section designed for jewelry. His mother had declared the closet extravagant.

“The closet in the other room would probably be more my size,” Lois declared as she started back that way. “Damn!” she mumbled when she stepped into the other storage space. It was almost as large as the other one.

Clark chuckled at her. “Every closet in this house is huge.” He’d followed her into the other room. “So, which room do you like?”

“The one with you in it,” she said under her breath as she inspected the bathroom.

His smile widened as he sat down on the window seat. This room offered a smaller version of the storage space like the one in his apartment. As he sat there, Lois came out of the bathroom and walked over to click the light off. She’s already clicked the one off in the other room. Enough moonlight was shining through the window to see Clark clearly enough. She walked over and sat down beside him.

“You know, if you *really* want to share a room…” he teased, but she didn’t smile. He reached over and smoothed his hand across her back. “Is it that important?” he asked her, meaning her apparent need to know about his love life.

She obviously understood what he meant because she shrugged. “Crazy, huh? To wonder about something like that when I’m so damned messed up.” She laughed softly, a humorless sound. “I have no idea what you’ve done to me, but I can hardly think of much else. I mean, yeah, I think about the stuff that’s happened to me, think about getting through the next minute. It just all comes right back to you at the end of the day. For the past few days I’ve been thinking about us living together.” She stopped and stared across the room, silent for a long moment. “And that makes me think about your bed.” Her eyes came around to meet his. “It also makes me a little… nuts thinking about who might share that bed with you,” she whispered.

“I thought that’s what we were talking about,” Clark said, his eyes dancing in the light.

“Clark,” she whined, obviously not back to the teasing mood of earlier.

His hand reached over to grasp hers. “I thought I told you I’m not involved with anyone.”

“Not right now.”

“And the only person I see myself being involved with in the near future is you.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Besides, it would be way too kinky for me to share my bed with someone else if you’re already in it.”

“Dammit, Clark!” she barked at him and pulled her hand away from his. “You’d feel funny as hell if I really wanted to do that.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing her back again. “I’d probably feel…” He grunted when she elbowed him. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his side, ready to put her mind at ease a bit. He wasn’t sure why she felt she had to know, but he was quickly getting to the point where he’d tell her anything. Hell, she already knew his biggest secret. “Lois, I have been in a very serious relationship.”

“With Lana?” she asked, not looking up from a spot she found interesting on the floor.

“Yeah. She and I *were* intimate. Even after we decided to separate, we would… sleep together from time to time when we saw each other.” He shrugged helplessly. “We knew each other and you tend to be comfortable with people you know.”

“Explain us.” They’d said these same exact things before.

He laughed softly as he pulled her closer and reached out with his free hand for one of hers. “I guess it’s like my mom says… when you find your true best friend, your heart and soul will know long before your mind does.” She hadn’t said best friend, but he wasn’t about to tell her that Martha had said soul mate. He was sure that might cause her a bit of unease.

Was that what Lois was? His soul mate?

“You think we’re true best friends?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I hope so. You know way too much about me not to be.”

“Oh please. Quite a few people know you’re Superman.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know what color my underwear are,” he said softly. He wasn’t really sure Lois knew either, but she had been living with him. So…

That caused her to laugh out loud. “That might make a difference,” she said when she’d calmed, reveling again at how his laugh and smile affected her. His eyes squinted nearly shut and his whole face lit up, making him even more beautiful than he normally was- if that was possible. “Did you sleep with Mayson?” She asked that question directly, no smile on her face at all. She hadn’t meant to be so direct, but she’d been wondering about it for a while and well, she wanted to know.

“Yes,” he answered just as directly. “A couple of times.” He looked down as his thumb stroked the back of the hand he was still holding. “In her bed.”

Did that mean he hadn’t slept with anyone in his bed? Or just that particular bed? Or…? When she looked up and his eyes met hers, she received her answer. He hadn’t slept with a woman in the bed at his apartment.

“I had a single bed until I moved to Metropolis,” he went on.

“Must have made… work difficult.”

“It made work nonexistent,” he clarified. “Lois, I had a life, even a love life, but I’ve never been… promiscuous either. I think you should… feel something before you share an experience like that.”

“I would hope you’d feel something,” she joked, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders by his revelations.

He laughed again, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “That might make a difference,” he repeated what she’d just said to him.

“You felt something for Mayson?”

“I did, and I still do. I wasn’t… in love with her, but I did care very deeply for her. She’s become a dear friend, and I love her that way now. Does that bother you? Will it bother you when she moves next door?”

“Actually, there’s something about Mayson that makes you want to be her friend,” Lois confessed. “I’ve never had a female friend before,” she said softly.

“Then I hope you two become closer.”

They sat in silence for a long while, Lois staring down at the floor, tons of different things whirling around in her head. “So how kinky are you?” was what popped out of her mouth.

Clark wasn’t the least bit shocked by her question. He was quickly learning to expect the unexpected with Lois. Her mind jumped off on all kind of wild tangents and most of the time, she asked exactly what was on her mind. “Oh, I don’t know. Sex on the ceiling is good.”

Her eyes automatically glanced up at the ceiling. “It would definitely be interesting,” she commented as she stood up.

“Where you going?”

“To look at the ceiling in the other room. I want to see which one looks more comfortable.”

Clark laughed, partly because her comment was funny and partly to cover the electric current that shot through his body. He got up to follow and sure enough, she was standing in the middle of the master bedroom looking up at the ceiling.

“Just pick a room already,” he said as he reached out to tickle her sides.

“Don’t you… do… that,” she said and moved to get away from him.

“Why? I want to hear you laugh.” And he backed her against the wall where he could tickle her relentlessly. Her laughter echoed throughout the empty room. “Say uncle,” Clark said as he continued his assault.

“What if I turned the TABLES?” She finished in a breathless grunt because she’d grabbed him by his shirt and with one swift move, he was the one in the corner laughing.

“Mmm, a woman who can handle her half of the work,” he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Lois’ hands stopped attacking him and she stared up into his eyes. “Lex threw me up against the wall so hard once, I bled for two hours. Still have the bump.” She demonstrated by reaching back to touch a spot on her head.

Clark’s smile vanished and he swallowed hard. Why did she feel like she needed to tell him that now?

“He liked making me submit with the lights on. Said he… performed better when he saw the fear in my eyes. He gave new meaning to the word kinky. Only with him it wasn’t kinky. It was sick and disgusting and painful and…” She stopped and glanced down at his chest. “Oh God! You’re not wearing a muscle shirt tonight.” He had on a button down shirt, but he’d left his muscle tee off. Before he knew what she’d done, his shirt was wide open. “Wow! Look at that.”

Absolutely not! he thought, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the wall. Please don’t touch me, he chanted mentally. She was grasping the sides of shirt, but if she touched him…

Her eyes finally left his chest and drifted back to his face. “What’s wrong, Clark?” she whispered. Her hands loosened just a bit on his shirt.

“You know what’s wrong,” he told her, taking a deep breath through his nose.

“Would you ever do me like that, Clark?”

That caused his head to snap up and his eyes flew open. “What?”

“Would you toss me around like that? Would you want to see my eyes? Would you want me to stand up? Would you want me to please you no matter how much it hurt me in return?” By the time she finished her string of questions, tears were rolling down her cheeks. And even before she asked them, she knew the answers.

He lifted his hands and cupped her face, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “You have big, expressive eyes that would definitely be worth watching. But I’d never want to see fear in them. I’d never put fear in them. Excitement maybe. Anticipation is nice. Never fear.” He’d wanted to say more. He’d wanted to say he’d give anything to see desire in her eyes. This wasn’t the time though. He dropped his hands to grasp her hips lightly. “I’d never want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

Her large, expressive eyes searched his for a long moment before they glanced back down at his chest. A second later her hands went up and she reached out to touch him. “You are *so* beautiful,” she told him softly.

His fingers squeezed reflexively on her hips. “So are you,” he replied. His body felt like it was vibrating with pent up desire as her warm hands branded him. She smoothed over his pecs, stopping directly over his nipples to squeeze ever so slightly. She ventured on, moving her hands down over his stomach and back up his sides.

“You have caused me to rethink everything.”

“Like what?”

“Not all men are slimy, manipulative pigs.” He smiled. “Attraction is definitely something I can still feel.” The smile faded. She swallowed as they continued to stare at one another. “Sex might actually be something wonderful again,” she said softly. “Instead of some dark, twisted act used to control others.”

Clark lifted his hand back to her face, then leaned his head over to touch hers. “Lady, you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, then pulled her into a hug. His hands smoothed over her back, his body humming from the contact between their bodies.

“I think I do,” she mumbled against his chest.

He laughed softly and splayed his hand over the side of her head. She drew away from him and moved her hands down to grasp his. “Are we gonna stay here all night?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking we might try out the pool. The bank sent out a crew to clean it this afternoon.”

“We don’t have suits.”

“Sure we do,” he said, his eyes flashing devilishly. “Our birthday suits.”

She swatted him on the chest. “You are terrible.”

Laughing again, he wrapped his arm around her and guided her toward the door. “Come on. I’ll buy you a sundae at the fudge castle.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Clark grasped Lois and swung her up into his arms before floating them down the stairs. She protested mildly, but her giggles told him she was having a good time. Clark buttoned his shirt after depositing her on her feet in the den. They cut all the lights, then they headed toward the city. A deep understanding had been established between them tonight. Both knew about and accepted the other’s attraction. Both understood it was strong enough that they would act on it should either indicate that was what should happen. And both accepted that to rush this attraction, to rush this friendship would cause irreparable damage.

***

Life had a way of bogging down to a near crawl, making you incredibly miserable. It also had a way of flying by in the blink of an eye, until you felt like you’d missed everything. This was one of the fast weeks. Lois was in conference with Mayson two different days as well as on the phone with Henderson another day. The prosecutor was rolling quickly with his case against Lex, hoping to work out a plea bargain long before the case could go to trial, a situation that wouldn’t hurt Lois’ feelings one bit. She was not looking forward to testifying against him.

Clark had rushed to work each morning to tackle his stories so that he could get to the new house to work on the garage. Superman was on a limited-rescue basis; he didn’t go out unless it was for major emergencies.

And he talked to Lois every morning and every night, if he didn’t fly out to see them. She told him she understood he wanted to get done with the renovations and would be okay if he didn’t visit much.

“Damn, Clark, this place looks phenomenal,” Jimmy said as they stood in the middle of the new living room in back of the garage.

Rather than cutting the space in the original garage, he’d expanded behind the building. There was an entrance into the new space from inside the garage as well as a separate entrance with a large covered patio that extended out into the backyard. There was a small living room, a kitchen, and a laundry room with a half bath. The expansive, open space on top of the garage was now two bedrooms and a modern bathroom. The area above the new addition was a covered, screened porch so that his parents could sit outside on nice nights. It boasted new patio furniture and a fire pit. With the help of Jimmy and Jack, the aid of low visibility at dusk, and the fact that the lot was fairly secluded, Clark was able to complete the outside in three days. It would have been done in mere minutes if he’d been able to use true super speed. But the possibility of being seen forced him to work at a slower pace. The inside was done much quicker, aided by the fact that Mayson pushed all of the permits through in record time.

“Your folks are gonna love it,” Denny told him. He’d come along with Jack to help with final clean-up.

“I think so,” Clark said as he looked around with a smile. The only thing missing was the furniture, but he was going to let his folks decide what furniture from the farm should go in. New stuff could be added later if it was needed.

“So, Lois is really gonna stay in the house with you?” Jack asked, a grin quirking his mouth.

“In her *own* room,” Clark pointed out as he gathered up the vacuum he’d used to give the floor a final once-over.

Jack shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Clark, my man, let me talk to you.” Clark stopped and looked at him. “I need your man card. No horsing around this time. Hand it over.” He held out his hand to his friend. Clark just chuckled at him.

“Leave him alone, Jack,” Jimmy spoke up. “Lois is in a bad place right now.”

“Yeah, I know. But come on, Jimmy. You have to admit- she’s hot!”

“Lois has always been hot. You should see her dressed in a business suit. Wow!”

“Would you two stop?” Clark said as he stepped out the door of the new house. The others followed behind him and he locked up.

“I’m just saying,” Jack continued. “If the mother of my kids was moving in with me, and she looked like Lois, she would never have to ask for a shoulder to cry on.”

“She doesn’t,” Clark said under his breath as he headed for the back door of the big house.

Jack jogged to catch up with him. “Did I hear that right? My man isn’t as blind as I thought he was?”

Clark stopped at the bottom of the stairs and sighed. “I have x-ray vision,” he pointed out.

A knowing grin spread across Jack’s face. “You know, that ignorant, blissfully unaware attitude works for you.”

“So, exactly what *is* going on with you two?” Jimmy wanted to know as he walked up and grasped Clark’s shoulder.

“Nothing,” Clark breathed, immediately feeling ashamed of himself for how he felt. While he would love to have an intimate relationship with Lois, he wasn’t about to put his desires ahead of her needs. And right now she needed something much deeper than just a physical relationship.

“By the way you said that you want more,” Jimmy said.

“I shouldn’t have said it quite like that,” Clark began to explain. “We’re friends, can’t help but be, considering we have two kids together.” He glanced back toward the pool where Denny was sitting on the diving board. “Jimmy was right, though. Lois has a lot going on and more than anything, she *does* need that shoulder to lean on.” His eyes moved to Jack. “And yes, I can see how beautiful she is.” That was all he was giving them. “Grab your suits, would you? I’ll drop the steaks and we’ll see how cool that water is.”

Jack and Jimmy exchanged a knowing look, then headed inside behind Clark. They were going to test out the pool and grill some steaks- it was part of the deal. They help Clark, they get food. Playing a while was an added bonus.

For the remainder of the evening the guys ate, passed around insults, and swam. Lois was mentioned once or twice, but they seemed to respect Clark’s unspoken request to respect her by not turning her into fodder for gossip. And by not talking about her, it kept Clark from dwelling on the fact that he was so incredibly attracted to her.

***

Clark had finished moving all of his things into the new house. He’d also helped Jack and Denny settle in his apartment. They were stoked to be out of the one-room efficiency they’d lived in for entirely too long. But Jack had chosen to stay in the less expensive place in order to save some money. It had paid off, too. He told Clark that he hoped he’d have enough money to buy Denny a really nice car by the time he graduated. Denny was on track for a scholarship and his big brother insisted he’d have to have a car for college. Jack was banking on Denny getting into a good school. He also wanted to reward the younger brother for a job well done.

With everything done on his end, the only thing left to do was wait on the moving truck bringing his family home. Martha and Jonathan had rented a small motor coach to bring the twins out from Kansas, insisting that the experience would not soon be forgotten. The truck would get in later today, but his family wouldn’t make in for three more days. They were having a good time on the road and weren’t in much of a hurry.

Sitting on the porch of the house, Clark was waiting on the truck. The movers had called earlier to say they should be there by six. He looked up when a sleek, silver sedan pulled into the driveway. A dark-haired woman wearing shades climbed out and smiled at him.

“Lois?”

“Hey, flyboy.” She pulled her sunglasses off as she approached him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m supposed to move in,” she replied as she stepped up the stairs and sat down beside him.

He chuckled at her answer. “I thought you were with Mom and Dad.”

“I hopped a plane from somewhere in someplace a while ago so I could surprise you. Are you surprised?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the car. “How did you get a car?”

“It’s a rental.”

“I meant the fact that you don’t have a license.”

She smiled and reached into the bag she’d dropped beside her. Flipping open her wallet, she showed him her new driver’s license. “Landed in Alton and hit the DMV in Glover. Was in and out in two seconds. Well, not really, but…”

“And where did you get a car for the driver’s portion of the test?”

“Jimmy’s mustang is still a sweet ride.”

He smiled at her satisfied grin. She’d accomplished something on her own and she was proud of herself. “It’s good to see you,” he told her as his smile faded a bit. He hadn’t been able to get to Kansas in three days. They’d talked on the phone, but this was much, much better.

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said and leaned over to bump her shoulder against his.

Clark’s eyes moved from her face to her hair. She’d had it trimmed and dyed it back to its natural color. And it was as amazing as he knew it would be. “The hair…” Clark lifted his hand and slipped his fingers through the long locks.

“Like it?”

“Oh yeah,” he breathed. His eyes bored into hers as heat simmered between them. Would it be like this every time he saw her?

“I won’t promise I’ll keep the length long. It’s hot as hell with all of this hair.” She smoothed her hands over the length hanging down by her face.

“I’m glad you let me see it like this.” His hand was still buried in the back of her hair. It was so soft and felt…

More precisely, it made him feel… glad to be a man. She looked so much different with the dark brown than the red. Gorgeous either way, but the natural color took his breath away.

They continued to stare at one another a moment, then Lois reached out to slap his knee. “What do you say we have dinner after the movers get here?”

“If they can manage to get the truck unloaded before midnight.”

“If the time starts getting away from us, I’ll go pick us up some take-out.”

“Sounds good.” He finally smoothed her hair down and let his hand drop away from her. He was about to say something else when the truck rolled up out front. “To be continued,” he uttered as he stood up.

“In its entirety,” she put in as she went after him. She’d thought of little else but this man the last few days and couldn’t control the overwhelming urge to see him. Martha had suggested she call him, ask him to come see her.

How was it that woman knew how she felt? She and Martha had become the best of friends since she’d been in Kansas. The older woman’s insight into life, love, and healing was what she’d needed most. She was glad she’d gone out to the farm.

Martha also knew how Lois felt about her son, even if Lois didn’t know herself. When she’d insisted she couldn’t call Clark and ask him to stop what he was doing to come to her, Martha suggested flying out the rest of the way. Both she and Jonathan understood Lois’ need to be with Clark, so she hugged the kids and booked a ticket to sanity.

That was exactly what she felt like. That she was hovering just outside the realm of sanity and being with Clark grounded her, made her feel that she could wake up again, face the challenges ahead of her. He made her feel safe and gave her direction she so desperately needed. She didn’t understand it; she didn’t want to. All she knew was that she needed Clark Kent.

***

Lois froze when she walked past the doorway of the master bedroom. Her stuff, her bed and other bedroom furniture that had once been in her apartment were there. A few boxes sat around, too, and her clothes were in her closet. She hurried to the other bedroom and gasped. Clark’s bedroom was completely arranged. All of his things that had been in his bedroom in the apartment were there. A few of his mementos that had been in his former living room had been placed on a bookshelf that looked new. His clothes were hanging in the closet and his toiletries were in the bathroom.

He’d chosen for her. He’d given her the biggest room. This was his house, but she had the nicer space, the biggest closet.

The fireplace.

Tears filled her eyes as she leaned against the frame and stared at his bed. This man was unbelievable. Easily the most compassionate, generous soul she’d ever met, Clark Kent was also the only man she’d ever met that made her feel like this. Would he be there when she decided she was ready for a deeper relationship with a man?

“Hey, that box goes in the twins’ room,” Clark told her as he stepped onto the top floor landing. He was headed toward one of the other bedrooms when he noticed her wipe her face. He stopped next to Lois. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said with a smile as she faced him. “Nothing at all.” She shifted the box she held so her hand could go up to cup his cheek for a second before she continued toward the other room.

Clark glanced inside the room and grinned. There had never been a question which room he’d give her, but he’d asked which she wanted. When she’d been indecisive, he reverted to his first choice. It looked to be the right one.

Thankfully the moving company sent over four more local guys to help unload the truck. It was Saturday afternoon and they didn’t want to have to pay out any more overtime than they had to. With so many hands, and Martha having marked everything clearly, the furniture was inside the houses by ten. Lois had run out to grab Chinese take-out and when Clark found her, she’d set up the table near the pool, complete with candles and a bottle of wine. The torches surrounding the area were lit to ward off the bugs, casting a warm glow.

“Wow! This is great,” Clark said as he dropped on a chair at the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She sat down and lifted her wine glass. “Here’s to… our new life.”

“May it be full of healthy, happy babies. Or two anyway,” he said with a grin.

She laughed and sipped her wine, but pulled the glass back and made a sour face. “I just can’t help it. Wine doesn’t taste the same anymore. Lex drank it religiously.”

“I can slip out and grab something else,” Clark said and made a move to stand up.

“Cold beer or cream soda?” she asked as she leaned over to open the top on the cooler beside her.

He chuckled as he grabbed one of the food containers. “You choose. I’ll drink whatever you have.”

Lois tossed him a soda and popped the top on her own. “I thought you might like the wine.”

He shrugged as he stuffed part of an egg roll into his mouth. He chewed, then swallowed. “I can drink it or not. I prefer a cold beer if I drink alcohol.”

“I used to love wine, but…” She glared at the bottle on the table. “Did you see the cellar?”

“Luthor’s?” She nodded. “Yeah.”

“He collected wine from all over the world. When he was searching for a particular bottle, he was more of a nightmare than usual. God help everybody if he didn’t find it.” She shook her head and turned up her soda. “Luckily there’s cream soda,” she said as she set the can down on the table.

“Absolutely,” he agreed as he took a drink from his can. They exchanged a glance, then dove into their food. Talk was mostly about the kids and what they’d been up to since Clark had seen them last. They discussed putting them in the same room for now, which both agreed was a good idea. They were still too young for their own rooms. And besides, they’d always shared a room. One would be lost without the other anyway.

“Mayson says that there will be a hearing next week,” Lois said as they cleaned up from their late dinner.

“She told me,” Clark said as he walked over to toss the trash in a can just over the pool fence.

“Will you come?” Lois wanted to know when he stepped back over to the table.

“I will,” he told her. “Want to come watch me unpack?”

She glanced at the pool. “I was thinking we’d go for a swim.”

His eyes drifted to the blue water glistening in the dancing lights. “We do have suits tonight.” He looked at her. “Or I do.”

“I have one.” And the surprise was evident on his face as she quickly peeled her shirt off. Lois was wearing a bathing suit underneath her clothes, which caused the air to leave Clark’s lungs in a rush. “What’s wrong, Kent? Did you think I’d be… naked underneath?” She tossed her shirt in his face and turned around to slip off shoes so she could finish undressing.

“The thought did cross my mind,” he mumbled as he watched her lower her pants. He was behind her and had a perfect view of…

His eyes flashed back up to her face when she whirled around to face him. She quirked a brow at him. “Nice… suit,” he commented. She was wearing a one piece that looked like it belonged on a diver. He guessed she chose the modest clothing because she needed the security it provided. But it didn’t matter. To him, she looked incredible.

“Uh huh,” she said as she looked at him. “Are you going to change or wear your underwear?”

“Maybe I like the suit I was born with,” he tossed at her, a gleam in his eyes.

“Suit yourself. I’m going in.” She walked over to the steps leading down in to the water and was only in to her knees when a second wind indicated Clark was back. She watched the water bubble and he surfaced near the rope.

“Thought you were coming in.”

“Show off,” she said and eased further into the water. “Some of us don’t have super skin. We like to ease in.” She sank down so that the water came up to her neck. “This feels nice.”

“This is nice,” he clarified, then disappeared under the water. When he came up, he was in the deep end. He shot up and grabbed the diving board. With one swift move, he was standing on the end, looking back at Lois.

“No cheating,” she said. “And I want a flip.”

“One flip coming up.” He bounced and executed a perfect flip without using his powers.

Lois lifted her arms from the water and clapped. “Nice.”

He disappeared under the water and came back up two inches from her. “Your turn,” he said

“I haven’t dived since college.” But even as she said it, she swam toward the ladder at the other end. A moment later her head came up after she’d performed an equally graceful move as Clark.

Clark clapped the same way she had. “A perfect ten.” He watched as she swam underwater, surfacing in front of him.

“I think I’m gonna enjoy this pool,” she said as she moved toward the steps in the shallow end. She sat on the bottom one which kept her submerged up to the top of her chest.

Moving over to sit next to her, Clark leaned back, ducking his head to wet his hair. They sat in silence for a while before Lois looked over at him.

“I’ve been writing.” She waited until his eyes met hers. “About everything. I felt like I needed to… *do* something. And once I started writing and it made me feel better…” She sighed, a sound that meant she was satisfied with whatever she’d written. “I think I’ll keep writing. Maybe turn it into something readable.”

“A novel?”

“Maybe,” she answered with a shrug. “What do you think?”

“I think if it makes you feel better, I’ll buy you a truck load of paper or flash drives to save it on.”

She smiled at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Clark shifted to face her. “Write it, Lois. I’d love to read it.”

“I will,” she said and shoved Clark backwards. “You’re it.” She was off and swimming as hard as she could.

Clark chuckled softly and followed. He even did so at normal speed, prolonging the fun as long as he could. Of course, they played for nearly an hour before deciding they’d had enough. Wrapped in towels, Clark took Lois to see the new apartment. She raved on and on about how good it looked.

“I wish I’d had parents like yours,” Lois commented as they stepped out of the little house a while later. “To want to do things like this for them.”

“I do what I can,” Clark said as he leaned against the post holding the cover over the patio up.

“And how about tonight? You’ve stayed all night. No one yelling for Superman?”

“I’ve been working overtime tonight.” He held the towel around his neck on either end, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Then dry me off, would you?” She opened her towel for him to dry her suit. “I’m getting cold.”

His eyes glossed over as he swept the length of her body.

“You need a girlfriend,” she said in exasperation.

“What I need is for you to stand still.” He managed to control himself long enough to shoot a blast of heat vision over her body, drying her suit.

“You know,” she said as she tucked the towel back around her shoulders. “That vision thingy could be just as kinky as the ceiling.”

“Dammit!” Clark mumbled under his breath as she walked away. Every time he thought his traitorous body would cooperate with his rational mind for a minute, she went and said something that sent him soaring right back to that place where he could easily get himself into trouble.

Shaking his head to clear away the naughty things rattling around inside, he went after her. He chose to deliberately steer the conversation toward safer subjects for the next few minutes. Then he purposely begged off, claiming exhaustion from everything he’d been doing the past week. She seemed to accept that and closed herself off in her room. He sighed heavily and went to bed- alone. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but if he didn’t, he might do something he’d regret. And he’d never forgive himself for that.

***

An alarm tore him from his sleep the next morning. Superman spent the first few hours after dawn fighting a fire at an office building just inside the business district. Luckily he’d heard the fire call from the station close to the house. Every fire crew within ten miles had been called to help. Clark had the situation under control in minutes, saving six people in the process. He helped with clean-up, then sped home for a shower.

Lois was jogging up the stairs when he came out of his bedroom. She’d been for a run. “Hey,” he said, appreciating the affect sweat had on her body. Her skin glistened, causing a flash of a different kind behind his lids. One of her skin, sweat, and his skin.

“Clark?”

He blinked several times before focusing on her. “Sorry. I was…” He stopped and glanced away. He’d been two seconds from telling her exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Thinking about me?”

“Oh yeah,” he breathed, then blushed furiously when he realized just how he’d sounded. “I think I need to go find some breakfast,” he said and stepped around her to start down the stairs.

Lois grasped his arm to halt his progress. “I think about you, too.”

“Not like that,” he said under his breath. He was staring down, refusing to look at her.

“Yes.” When he turned toward her, she smiled at him. “Like that.”

“Lois, whatever this is, I won’t ever force anything on you.”

“I know that.” She wiped the sweat from her face with her palm. “I also know that the things I think when I look at you should be the last thing on my mind. Everything I’ve been through… everything ahead… None of it matters. It doesn’t matter that I cry myself to sleep now and then. It doesn’t matter that I have a hard time controlling the shaking when I think about… *him*. It doesn’t matter that I still get butterflies when I look at my children because I’m wondering if I’m doing everything right.” She took a breath as she continued to look at him. “It doesn’t matter that we’ve only known each other a few weeks. Or that I break out in hives when I think about having sex again. My body refuses to cooperate. It just reacts and my mind isn’t far behind.”

He gulped hard, feeling the intensity of the moment washing over him. She felt the same way about him as he did her. He turned and lifted his hand to cup her face. “Looks like we’re in this together then.”

“Good,” she said as her hand came up to cover his on her face. “I didn’t want this to be one-sided.”

“Not one-sided a bit,” he told her as he dropped his hand away.

“Where are you going?” she asked as he started down the steps.

“To get breakfast. I’m starved.”

She shook her head with a laugh and went to take a shower. Things were about to get a bit more interesting around here. And for the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to the future.

***

The rest of Lois’ furniture had also been in the storage room at Lex Towers. Her stylish but uncomfortable sofas were now the centerpieces of the formal living room of the house. Her small dining table fit perfectly in the kitchen and her fish tank would be a topic of conversation for the den. Clark’s more comfortable sofa was positioned in front of the wall that would hold a new television. Clark had explained that he wanted a larger set to hang there- to see the games better. He’d left his dining table for Jack and Denny, along with a few other pieces of furniture. As they surveyed the house, they decided they needed to go shopping. The larger space was desperately empty despite having both sets of furniture in place already. New big kid beds would be purchased for the twins so they could make the transition from their cribs. Even though Jonathan had converted the baby beds into daybeds, it was past time for new ones.

Clark closed the door of the trophy case he’d put in the oversized front hall. His lonely Kerth award was now joined by two more.

“My Kerths!” Lois said as she walked over to stare at the case.

“I hope they’re okay here.”

“They’re…” She tore her eyes away from the trophies and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, grinning back.

“Oh, Jack called when you were in the garage. He said, and I quote, ‘tell CK that the new furniture is bitchin’.”

Clark laughed as he headed back toward the den. Lois was sorting through the things he’d unpacked, giving him instructions where it should all go. He’d told her he’d do all the work in a blink, but she insisted on helping. She’d chosen spots for his various trinkets he’d collected while traveling. It appeared now that she’d moved on to photos, if the array of frames spread out on the coffee table and couch were an indication. He reached down to lift an image he’d never seen before. It was of the twins when they were very small.

“Three days old,” Lois told him. “It’s the only picture I’ve kept close. I was completely lucid that day. Sara took the picture.” She moved over to look at the image with him. “I had mine blown up from a wallet.” Her fingers smoothed over the glass covering the photograph. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” His eyes met hers. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Thank you… for giving that sample.”

“Lo-is,” he breathed. The look in her eyes conveyed more gratitude than she could ever show him. He adored those wide, expressive eyes.

“I thought we could hang it in the middle of the wall in the hallway.”

“I think that’s a great place for it.” He went in the other room and carefully chose the right spot. When he’d finally placed it on the hanger, he stood back to admire it.

“Now, hang these around it.” She shoved a stack into his hands.

He chuckled and went to retrieve more hangers. She certainly wasn’t shy about keeping him busy. Of course, he didn’t mind working with her either. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top with no shoes. Putting the house together slowly allowed him plenty of time to catch glimpses of her perfectly sculpted body. He hadn’t realized just how toned she was.

“Hey, Lois,” he said after eyeing her for the tenth time in the last two minutes. “I was thinking we could use part of the third floor for a gym.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Kent?” she asked as she put a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, I’m telling you that you’re fat and need to drop a few pounds.” He rolled his eyes as he walked across the room to pick up another photo.

“I know I’m small,” she said briskly. “But I’ve gained seven pounds,” she told him defensively. “I eat, but every now and then I still get sick.”

Clark stopped to look at her. “Lois, I think you’re doing great. Mom told me you’ve been upset a time or two about your weight. And you *do* look better. I also happen to think the muscle tone is impressive. I thought you might want to keep up with your workouts.”

“You like my muscles?” she asked, although she still looked rather upset.

“I do,” Clark said as he lifted his hand and smoothed it over the arm propped on her hip.

Her eyes moved over to watch his hand. It stopped at her elbow and she looked back up at him. “Go back to work,” she told him and stepped back over to grab the last few frames from the coffee table.

After a couple deep breaths to steady himself, Clark zipped around the house hanging the pictures and putting away everything he could. When he stopped, he grinned widely at Lois. “It’s lunch time and I think we should grab a sandwich on the way to the antique mall in the Corridor.” The Corridor was a popular shopping district on the outside of the city and it just so happened, this was the side it was on.

“Philly steak with extra peppers?”

“And lots of cheese,” he said as he went to retrieve his wallet and keys from the counter. After she grabbed her shoes and bag, they headed out. The rest of the day was spent shopping, talking, and laughing, all of which was exactly what they needed.

Stopping off at the store, Clark grabbed the stuff to grill burgers for them for supper. They ate just before dusk, swam for a while, then put away a few of the things they’d purchased that afternoon. Plans were made to shop for the new electronics the following day and they both headed up to bed. Settled with thoughts of the other on their mind that night, they fell asleep quickly. Life was certainly better today than it had been a few weeks earlier. It was also very, very different.

***

On Monday Clark headed to work while Lois stayed at the house to write. They’d talked to the twins that morning and Martha said they’d be in the next evening. Lois was going to go to the market for a few things they needed before everyone else got there. They also had to have other supplies. Clark had said he could stop off to shop on his way home, but recognized the look in her eyes to feel that she’d accomplished something, that someone depended on her for something. He even went so far as to jot down a couple of items he needed from the store as well.

She wrote for an hour or so, then headed out to do the shopping. She stopped off at the Costmart, sure she’d find a wide variety there. And she wasn’t disappointed. She chose everything on her list and a few things that weren’t. She decided to put off buying groceries until after lunch because she’d decided to surprise Clark.

Clark was talking with Jack, laughing at something he’d said, when the younger man patted his shoulder. “Damn! That’s the best looking woman in two states.”

Swiveling his chair so he could see who Jack was talking about, Clark smiled when his eyes fell on Lois. “You do know that’s Lois?”

“You do know if I was a few years older you’d have a bit of competition?”

Chuckling at his friend, his eyes met Lois’ as she made her way down the ramp. She’d chosen something casual to wear today- slacks and a form-fitting blouse- which made her look as good as always. As she neared his desk, Clark noticed she was holding a bag.

“Hey,” he told her, still leaning back in his chair.

“Hey.” She glanced up at Jack. “Hi, Jack.”

“Hi, Lois. You look great.”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

His face lit up as if she’d agreed to go out with him. “Told you, buddy.” Jack patted his shoulder and went to find more work to do.

Clark laughed as the other man walked away.

“What was that all about?”

“He’s young and male.” His eyes glanced at the bag she held. “What’s in the bag?”

“Lunch. And a couple of things I bought the kids I wanted to show you.”

“Why don’t we head to the conference room?” He stood and led the way.

Lois looked over toward Perry’s office. “Where’s Perry?”

“Meeting with the board.”

“Ah…” She set the bag on the table and pulled out a couple of containers. “Hope you like grilled chicken fettuccini.”

Clark’s eyes flashed at hers, but he didn’t say anything, although Lois didn’t miss it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he lied and sat down, reaching over to grab one of the plates.

“Nothing my foot.” Lois sat and glared at him. “Tell me.”

“You don’t want to know.” He took the top off his lunch, looked at the food, and sighed.

“Clark, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.”

Clark paused, the fork halfway to his mouth, then sighed again. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I love pasta.” He sat back and looked at her.

“I know we’re not… whatever we’re not, but I’d love for us to be truthful with each other.”

“Me, too. And the truth is pasta metabolizes a bit differently in my body for some reason.”

“Makes your blood sugar go up?”

“Ah, no.” He leaned up again, prepared to eat the dish no matter how much he didn’t want to. Not that he didn’t want to, but well, eating it with Lois… “Pasta makes me…” He felt his face burn in embarrassment.

“Makes you what?”

“It… excites me,” he finished in a quick whisper, shoving the first bite in his mouth.

Lois’ brows furrowed for a second, then dawning flashed. “Oh,” she replied. She ate for a minute, then looked over at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he replied. A slow smile spread across her face as she continued to eat. “You don’t have to be so… happy with my discomfort and embarrassment here.”

“Yeah, I know.” She chewed the food she’d shoved into her mouth before grinning widely. “I’ll be sure to learn how to cook pasta.”

He nearly choked on his next bite. “You would,” he said and pointed toward the bag. “Show me what you bought, okay?”

She pulled out two little outfits, then showed him two of the cutest swim suits. She informed Clark she thought they would be perfect for the twins. She also had bought each a pair of flip flops. He couldn’t help but be thrilled with her enthusiasm. Lois was proud of her choices and it showed.

They finished lunch and she packed up to leave. There was more shopping to do, she explained, and headed out. Just as he did every time he was with her, Clark felt like he’d been hit with an electric jolt. Suddenly he looked forward to getting done with work so he could go home.

***

Clark took a quick peek inside the house when he got out of the Jeep. Lois was sitting in her room on the floor against the wall under the window. She was nursing a beer and she’d been crying. He zipped upstairs and stopped outside the door. “Lois?” She didn’t even acknowledge he’d spoken. He hesitantly stepped inside and walked toward her. He sat down and leaned against the wall beside her. “Hey.”

She turned up her beer as she stared unseeingly across the room.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he looked across the room, too. What happened since lunch? To put her in such a mood?

They sat there for over ten minutes before she spoke.

“I went to see Daddy after lunch.”

His eyes moved back to her. “He upset you?”

“Oh yeah,” she replied sarcastically. “That bastard sold me out for a million dollars.” She jerked her head around to look at him. “Do you think that was a fair price for my sanity? Or how about my womb?” His brows rose a bit, but he didn’t answer. “His daughter was exchanged for money… like she was a piece of meat!” She slugged back the beer, then looked at him again. “You know what he said? ‘At least you can have more children’. At least I can have more children?! What kind of crap is that?”

“How does he know you can have more children?” If his guess was right…

“Working with doctor feel-good gave him a chance to look at all the research and records.”

That was what Clark thought. No matter Sam’s motives for helping get Collin out of a madman’s grasp, the man was a scientist to the core.

“I know, in some twisted, deep ravine inside his infinitesimal brain, he thinks he did this amazing thing by rescuing Collin. But that one thing doesn’t make up for all he’s done.”

Clark pulled his leg up and rested his arm on his knee while she vented.

“I have a hard time thinking sometimes because of the hokey dust he created!” Polishing off her brew, she slammed the bottle down beside her. “So, how ‘bout it, Clark? Want more kids? You might be able to get a real steal now. He needs money for a good lawyer.”

She ran out of steam and they sat there in silence for a moment. Finally she answered the biggest question on his mind.

“I don’t even know why I went to see him.” Staring at a spot near the door, she nodded her head. “Yes, I do. I needed to look him the eyes while he explained to me exactly why he did what he did. I needed to hear him say he willingly took that monster’s money.”

“And now?”

“And now…” She sighed heavily. “I feel… violated on an entirely different plane.” She turned her head so their eyes met. “He might as well have been the one raping me.”

Clark reached out and hesitantly touched her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, and if I could have gotten my hands on him…” Lifting both her hands, she made a squeezing motion. She yelled loudly in frustration. “There… I feel better.”

“Good.” They lulled into another silence. Finally Lois stood up.

“I think I’m gonna turn in early tonight.”

It was still light out, but Clark didn’t say anything. He stood up when she made it clear she meant what she’d said. “Don’t you want some supper?”

“Not tonight,” she replied.

That was his cue to leave. She’d pulled away and he was not about to push her. The last thing she needed tonight was to fall into the abyss of anger and pain that seemed to call to her all too often. He pushed his hands into his pockets and left. As he stepped into his room he heard her door close. His enthusiasm from earlier quickly slipped away.

Clark closed his own door and slowly changed his clothes. Inside his bathroom he noticed the new aftershave on the sink. He also had a bottle of shampoo, shower gel, and a new toothbrush. Looking around he noticed the other changes. There was an entire bathroom set- new rug in front of the shower, another under his feet at the sink. The rugs matched the soap dish, tissue holder, and trash can. It seemed Lois had been busy today.

Downstairs he found she had shopped for the kitchen as well. A very nice tablecloth with matching napkins and pot holders were all in their places. Stainless steel canisters, matching salt and pepper shakers, and a brand new coffee pot all lined the counters. There was a new place setting for four in the cabinet.

Everywhere he looked he saw things she’d bought. New pillows in the den, a rug in the mudroom, another at the front door. There were curtains in every room- beautiful, rich colors. Yes, she’d been busy. Had she put everything in place this afternoon? As a way to vent her anger? She’d said she’d come to the Planet after stopping off at Costmart. Surely she hadn’t done this earlier.

She’d stayed busy, trying not to think about the things Sam had told her. But at some point it had all hit her- hard.

He was glad when he heard a call for Superman. At least if he was doing something, he wouldn’t be in the house near her knowing he couldn’t be with her.

Lois heard the sonic boom that indicated Clark had left. She rolled over and pulled the covers up around her neck tightly. Not tonight, she told herself. Tonight she wanted, *needed* to clear her mind and take a break from her demons. She closed her eyes and was glad when her body began to relax. A short time later, she was asleep.

***

It had been a while since he’d felt like someone was watching him, but he knew even before he opened his eyes. Lois was sitting on the bed next to him, watching him sleep.

“Hey,” he told her.

“Hey.” She cocked her head to the side as if she was studying him. “Do you know you snore when you sleep?”

“Only when I’m really tired.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Just messy. A chicken truck wrecked on the interstate, then there was a mudslide in California.”

“That’s why you smell like dirt.”

“I showered… twice,” he defended himself. He still hadn’t moved, lying on his side facing the middle of the bed.

She leaned over and sniffed. “Might need another one.”

He chuckled softly and closed his eyes. “It’ll have to wait till daylight.”

“That’s still at least three hours from now.” She watched him for a moment. “Can I stay here?”

His eyes opened again. “In my bed?”

“I won’t bite, Clark,” she told him sharply.

“I know that. Besides, if you do, you might lose some teeth.”

She laughed when he waggled his brows. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he answered, closing his eyes back. He was still pretty tired.

Lois stretched out on her side so she could watch him, her hand tucked under her head.

“Are you gonna watch me the rest of the night?” he asked without looking at her.

“Maybe.”

Any other time he’d be thrilled to have her in his bed. But tonight he was beat. Even so, he reluctantly opened his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“Razor blades.”

“Razor blades?”

“You didn’t have those on the list. You had aftershave, but not blades. I thought it odd, then I figured it made sense. I mean, you can’t shave like normal people. You’re invulnerable.”

“I use my heat vision. The aftershave cools the burn.”

“It burns?”

“It… tingles.”

“And your hair? Do you cut it the same way?”

“Yep.”

“Can I watch you shave in the morning?”

“If you’ll go to sleep.”

“Sorry.” She closed her eyes, but they popped right back open.

“What?” he asked, having kept his open, knowing that wasn’t what was really on her mind.

“Lex is ready to make a deal with the prosecutor.”

That brought him wide awake.

“He’s trading some of his dirty little secrets for life in prison.” She rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling in the dark. “He won’t plead to anything about me until he talks to me.”

“Are you up for that?”

“Yeah. I want closure.”

Clark could understand that.

“He wants to talk to you, too.”

“Me? Why?”

“He’s found out the kids belong to you.” She shrugged. “Probably wants to face the man he feels out done him. Mayson’s trying to talk the prosecutor out of both meetings.”

“Is that why I haven’t heard about it yet?”

She nodded and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Clark. “Are you up for that?”

“I’d only talk to him if you wanted me to.”

“I don’t *want* to do it myself.”

“You know what I mean.” He sighed and rolled over to throw his arm above his head.

She pushed up on an elbow to look at him. “I’m curious to know what the hell he wants.”

“Me, too,” he admitted, glancing up at her.

“Thanks,” she said, knowing he’d go. Her eyes moved down to his chest. He hadn’t put a shirt back on after his shower tonight. “Why don’t you have hair on your chest?”

“I don’t know,” he answered through his laughter. He rolled back over and reached out to grasp her side. “Why don’t you?”

“Very funny.” Lois shifted and turned on her other side, facing away from him. She grinned when his arm settled around her. “This is nice,” she said after a while.

“Mmm,” he replied through his haze. He was almost asleep again.

She sighed and threaded her fingers through his where his hand rested against her stomach. A girl could get used to sleeping like this, she thought as she closed her eyes. Moments later, she was asleep, too.

***

His body became aware of the proximity of the female lying close to him before his mind did. He was instantly on alert, fire raging through him. This is bad, he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths to control himself. But the smell of her shampoo, the shower gel she’d used, and the scent that was uniquely Lois all worked to remind him just how male he was.

Don’t move, he said to himself as he felt the change in her. Please don’t move.

Her hand smoothed over his arm and she leaned her head back against him. The rapid drum of her heart told him she was affected by their position as much as he was. She shifted and he moved so she could lie on her back, which brought his hand to rest on her stomach. Her wide, dark eyes met his and they stared at one another.

“I think we should go out soon,” Lois said softly.

Clark moved his hand, just a bit, to feel her solid abs, he told himself. “Friday night?”

“Let’s make it Wednesday,” she replied.

He smiled and rolled over onto his back, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too,” she shot right back. She, too, was breathing heavily. They both lay there, staring up at the ceiling, until they could breathe normally. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever had sex without doing a thing,” she finally said.

Clark’s lips spread into a smile, then he started to laugh. Before long, they were both laughing. “I’m gonna shave. Still want to watch?”

“Yep,” she answered and jumped to her feet to follow him into the bathroom. Two minutes later, she was staring at him with wide eyes. “Wow!” Her hand went up to feel how close he’d gotten. “Think you could shave my legs?” She stuck one of her limbs up.

“It’ll burn.”

“Burn or sting?”

“Sting. Are you sure?”

“Yep.” She moved so that she was sitting on the counter, her leg lying across the sink. He shook his head and moved his eyes up her skin, searing the short stubble as he went. When he was done, he smoothed his hand up to her knee. “There.”

“Don’t forget this one.” She hopped down, ran around him and threw up her other leg. He chuckled and repeated the unconventional shave.

“Nice and smooth,” he announced when he was done.

She ran a hand over the skin to check his work. “Too bad you can’t do bikini lines,” she mumbled.

His eyes glanced at her for a second before he whirled around and headed back into the bedroom.

Lois giggled and closed the bathroom door. When she came out, Clark was putting on his tie. “I saw this really great tie yesterday.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t buy it,” he answered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she stopped and asked him.

“Nothing. I just meant you bought so much…”

“It was my money,” she defended herself.

Clark looked over at her, recognizing her expression immediately. “Lois…”

“Lois, what? If I want to buy stuff, I can.”

“I know you can,” he tried again. “I just meant…”

“I know what you meant.” She tossed the box in her hand at him, then turned on her heel and stomped from the room.

Clark caught the box that had been sitting on his dresser. He hadn’t noticed it last night. He took the top off and felt like kicking himself. Underneath a hand written note was a tie that looked like a drawing, only without color. The note explained that it could be colored with the special pens included. Lois thought he might like for Collin and Perry to color it for him. ‘Just because’, the note stated.

“Dammit!” he said and finished putting on his clothes before going to look for her.

She was standing at the window in the den, staring out at the pool. He walked up behind her, not quite touching her, but close enough she could feel his breath on her ear. “I like the things you bought. The stuff in my bathroom was the perfect color. I want you to feel at home and if you want to fill this house with things, please do.” He lifted his hand and squeezed her upper arm. “The tie is great. Thank you.”

Lois remained stiff for several more seconds before she relaxed a bit. “I take everything the wrong way.”

“No. I said it the wrong way.” He tugged gently to get her to turn around. “I really do like the stuff.”

“I just wanted…” She looked around, unable to explain what was on her mind.

“I know.” Clark opened his arms and she stepped forward into the hug he wanted.

“This is a switch,” she mumbled against his chest.

“Huh?”

“You wanting the hug instead of me.”

Clark chuckled as he squeezed tighter. “Yeah, well, even Superman needs a little TLC every now and then.”

“Just let me know. I’m more than willing to help you out.” She drew back so she could smile at him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Clark gave her another quick hug, then pulled away to go cook breakfast. Before he left for work, they were laughing again. One emotional disaster averted.

Thank God.

***

Cursing his abilities for the third time, Clark was finally able to land in the alley next to the Planet so that he could pick up the Jeep from the parking garage and head home. The rest of his family should be home by now and he’d wanted to be there before they got in. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone needed Superman today. When he turned the last corner, he couldn’t help but smile. The coach his parents had rented was pulled alongside the curb just past the house. Lois’ rental was gone, which put the frown back on his face temporarily. He pulled into the drive and heard the sound of laughter and splashing coming from the backyard, so he headed in that direction.

“Hi, son,” his father called from his position in front of the grill.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Daddy!” Perry climbed out of the pool and came running.

Clark had just enough time to toss his jacket on a lounge- where had that come from- before he bent to catch his wet little girl. “Hey, Sunshine!” He held her close, sighing to finally have her home. He drew back and they exchanged their usual nose rub before he kissed her several times. She started laughing loudly. When she’d had enough, she struggled to get down and he set her on her feet. Collin wasn’t as happy to see him. He was still in the pool with Lois. Clark walked over to the edge and smiled down at them. “Hey, son.”

“Hi, Daddy. I’m swimming with Mommy.”

“You are?”

“Uh huh. Watch!” And he went under the water and swam to the side. “See?” he said when he came up and grabbed the side.

“Wow!” Clark bent to touch his hand. Collin had learned to swim a while ago, but he was so proud of himself.

“That’s great, big guy!”

“Let me go get changed so I can join you.”

“‘Kay.” The boy told him and turned to swim back to his mother.

Clark’s eyes lifted to Lois’ who was smiling brightly. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“They wanted to get in.” She shrugged and went back to playing with her boy.

With a shake of his head, Clark stood back up and moved over to where his dad was grilling burgers and dogs. “You didn’t have to cook.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Besides, we’re enjoying watching them play.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“In the kitchen getting everything else ready.”

Clark glanced up at the house. “Where’s Lois’ rental car?”

“The company picked it up a little while ago.”

“Maybe we need to pick out a second car. We’re not in the heart of the city anymore and calling a cab every time you go somewhere seems like a waste of money.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jonathan finished flipping the burgers, then grinned up as his son. “The house is great, boy. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. Just a couple of nice rooms would have been okay.”

“Are you kidding? I can offer something a bit nicer and I did.” Clark leaned over and kissed his dad’s cheek before stepping around him. He grabbed his jacket and jogged up the back steps. Martha was on the way out when he entered the mudroom. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hey yourself, handsome,” she returned and stuck her face over to accept the kiss she knew he was going to give her. “Hang your shirt up so it’ll dry,” she told him before going out the door he was holding open.

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughed softly after she went out, then went to find his swim trunks. Five minutes later, he was tossing a squealing little boy across the pool. Lois yelled at him to no avail. Collin loved the rough play and Clark was only too happy to oblige. Perry, however, was much too timid. She remained firmly in the shallow end of the pool. She and Lois played together for a while, then he moved in their direction with Collin. They all played until Martha called them to eat.

“Here’s to our first family dinner in our new home,” Jonathan said, holding his glass of iced tea up.

“Here, here,” Lois added with her own glass. The other adults joined in and she grinned at Clark when their eyes met. Their life was going to be very different from now on and she was looking forward to it. For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t wait for another day.

After dinner, after bath time, Clark carried Collin in to sleep in his bed. Perry would join Lois because they’d failed to purchase the twins’ new beds yet. They made plans to do so the next day. Clark was going to meet them at a popular furniture store not far from the Planet right before lunch. They planned to pick out new beds, then share lunch. Hopefully, things would stay calm enough for Clark to get away long enough.

Once Perry was settled, Lois went downstairs to get a cup of coffee. There was a light on in the room Clark wanted to turn into an office. She grabbed her coffee and walked over to the doorway to watch as Clark’s hands became a blur as he worked. He was building a set of bookshelves. When he stopped, the wood was assembled. He stepped back to admire his skills.

“Not bad.”

He turned to see Lois behind him. “You’re the only person that can actually scare me.”

“Sorry.” She walked over next to him. “Do you plan on building all of the furniture for this room?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.” He pointed toward a wall. “I want to put three of these on that wall, which will fill it up. I’d thought about an oversized desk that can accommodate a work station on either side.”

“Why one on either side?”

“You need a place to work.” He leaned over to pick up the scrap wood left over from the shelf. When he stood back up, she was looking at him with an expression he hadn’t seen before.

“You’re adding me to every aspect of your life.”

“You’re already there,” he told her as he stepped past her to deposit the pieces of wood into a can. “I thought I’d use these to make Perry a dollhouse for her birthday.” Lois was right in front of him when he turned back. “What?”

“It’s where I want to be,” she said softly.

“Good,” he replied with a smile.

Lois lifted her hand and touched his cheek, smiled at him, then headed out the door. Clark was left in stunned silence, the tingle where she’d touched him lingering on his skin. That woman was not only part of his life, she was quickly becoming part of his very being. She’d moved in and took over, and he wasn’t about to ask her to leave. She was where she wanted to be.

She was where *he* wanted her to be.

Lois had settled and wrapped her arms around Perry when Clark made his way upstairs. She could see his outline as he stood just outside the door for a moment, then headed toward his room. With a smile on her lips, she closed her eyes. She hadn’t lied to him; she was exactly where she wanted to be. It might not be the most rational place to be, but it was certainly the place that made the most sense. Everything about him just seemed to make sense to her. In her crazy, mixed up world, Clark ‘Superman’ Kent made sense.

With a satisfied sigh, she hugged her daughter closer and waited for sleep to wash over her.

***

Mayson called the next morning and told them that a hearing was scheduled for Friday morning. She also informed them that Lex wanted to see them both on Thursday. When they informed her that they would, indeed, see Lex, she set up separate meetings on Thursday. That meant there was nothing for them to do until then but take care of their family and go on their date Wednesday night. Lois had mentioned it several times. Martha seemed to be fueling the excitement and anticipation, which caused a smile to grace Clark’s face nearly all the time. They also managed to pick out new beds for Collin and Perry.

Early Wednesday evening found Clark standing in the middle of his bedroom trying to decide what to wear on his date. He’d mentioned that he wouldn’t mind getting dressed up, a statement that sent Lois on a shopping trip. Now, as he stood there looking down at his choices, he wished he’d gone as well. Finally he chose a charcoal suit with a crisp, white shirt and a solid tie. He’d just finished dressing when his mother stepped in the room.

“Hey,” she said softly as she approached him.

“Hey. Is my tie straight?” He worried with the item for the tenth time since putting it on two minutes ago.

“Relax, son.” His mother walked over and pinned a red rose bud to his lapel. “There. Very handsome.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he said with a smile. “Is she ready?”

“For the date?” she asked, reading deeper into her son’s eyes and question.

“For any of this,” Clark clarified.

“She’s ready, Clark. And she needs this,” Martha told him. “Just… be patient, always tell the truth, and love her like crazy,” his mother finished in a whisper.

Clark’s smile faded and he looked at her with as serious an expression she’d ever seen on his face. “I already do,” Clark whispered back.

“I know,” Martha let him know as she checked him over. “Now, go have fun.”

“We will.” Clark grinned and left the room. He was informed on the top of the steps that Lois would meet him downstairs in ten minutes, then the older Kent hurried into her bedroom. Not sure what that was all about, Clark continued downstairs to wait for his date.

He checked the oil and other vital fluids in the Jeep, made a last check to make sure it was clean, then walked back inside. It was still three or four minutes before he finally looked up when Lois stepped off the stairs. His breath left him in a rush. She was wearing a little black dress with thin straps. Her hair hung loose around her creamy shoulders, framing her face. There was a silver necklace around her neck, with matching earrings on her lobes. A beautiful silver watch was wrapped around her left wrist, and she was holding a small black clutch to match her dress. Long, perfectly toned legs ended in shoes with a slight heel.

And he could smell the faintest scent of perfume that accentuated her own fragrance. The entire effect was so profound it made him lightheaded.

“Clark?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

He blinked several times to get his bearings. “Ah…” His eyes swept down her body again. “Wow!” His hands had been in his pockets, but he pulled one out to wave at her. “You look…”

“Is it that bad?”

“Oh, baby, it’s that good,” he mumbled and stepped forward to hold out his hand. “Ready to go?”

She smiled widely. “Yes.” And she took his hand, allowing him to lead her out of the door. They’d said goodnight to the twins already and left Martha and Jonathan on the steps grinning at them.

***

When Clark glanced at her the sixth time in two miles, Lois shifted so that she could see him clearly. “What?” she wanted to know.

He grinned, but waited until they stopped at the stop sign before he looked at her. “Lois, you look sensational.”

“Really?” she asked, glancing down at herself. “I was so nervous it was… over the top. But then I saw you, and well…”

“Well what?” he asked as he turned left and headed further away from the city. “Should I have dressed up more?”

“Are you kidding?” Her eyes were wide and very appreciative as they swept over him… again. She’d been tongue tied when she’d first seen him. “Clark, you look… sensational,” she repeated the same thing he’d told her. “I love that tie.”

Clark ran his hand over his tie with a frown. “You don’t like my other ties?”

“Actually, I don’t think you could pull off solid very often.”

“I’ll take that to mean you like my ties.”

“I love your ties,” she said softly as she settled back in her seat. When he pulled onto the interstate, her eyes went to him again. “Where are we going?”

“To dinner,” he informed her.

“Har, har,” she replied and decided to enjoy the ride. Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a bed and breakfast.

Clark placed his hand on hers when her frantic eyes refused to meet his. “Relax. They happen to have one of the best restaurants around.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Sorry.”

“No need to be.” He squeezed her hand before he jumped out and ran around to open her door. As she stepped out, he held up a red rose. “For you.”

Her eyes snapped down to the flower, then back up to his. “When…?”

“My secret,” he insisted and stuck out his arm. She slipped her hand in the crook and they walked inside. Lois was surprised when the hostess greeted them by name.

And she was floored when they were led into an empty dining room lit entirely by candlelight. Hundreds of candles were everywhere, casting a warm glow on the entire room. In the middle of the room was a beautifully decorated table, with flowers and more candles. Once seated, Lois found it difficult to tear her eyes away from her surroundings. Soft music was playing in the background, completing the effect.

“Clark, this is…”

He looked up from his menu to watch her gawk at her surroundings. “Too much?”

Her eyes came around to meet his, her expression almost making him want to skip right to desert. Only the desert he wanted had nothing to do with dinner.

“If this is what you do for a first date, I can’t understand why any woman would walk away from you,” she said very seriously.

Clark closed his menu and laid it aside. “This date is a bit more special than any other I’ve ever been on.”

“Why is that?”

He reached across the table and lightly touched her hand, his fingers stroking her skin gently. “A first date never meant as much to me.”

The sound of his voice, the look in his eyes- she felt a rush of heat through her body. Why this man? Why now? After everything she’d been through?

Her hand flipped over quickly and she wrapped her fingers around his. “It means everything to me,” she confessed.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Clark glanced down at their joined hands. This felt *so* right. *She* felt so right. Her hand in his- it was exactly where it should always be. His eyes went back to hers and they stared at one another for a long moment before Lois smiled.

“I think we should order pasta.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her. “I think I’ll have seafood.”

She pulled her hand away and opened her menu, glancing at him with a wicked grin on her face. “Ah, come on. What’s the fun in that?”

Clark laughed softly and went back to perusing his dinner choices. It was going to be a *long* night.

A long, exciting, *hot* night.

***

Had dinner ever been as good as it was tonight? Lois thought as she walked along holding Clark’s arm. Had she ever had such a nice time on a date?

After leaving the restaurant, they’d driven to a park just a few miles from the house. It was much different than Centennial Park in the heart of the city. It boasted fountains, benches, play areas, and even a pond; two in fact, but there was more vegetation. Large trees of every variety, small trees, bushes, and flowers of every kind known to man grew everywhere. One pond was large, offering visitors a choice of activities. Paddle boats, regular boats, and kayaks were available to rent. Or you could bring your own. There was a bridge across the neck from one side to the other. A creek wound its way through the woods, offering more opportunity for visitors to enjoy the outdoors. During the summertime, on the south side of the park, there were amusement rides of all kinds.

“Want to go over?” Clark asked as he motioned toward the flashing lights of the carnival in full swing.

“Dressed like this?”

“Then how about we check out the concert?” He started them walking again.

“Concert?” she asked as they stepped off the bridge and headed toward the back end of the park.

“Summer concert series. They showcase local artists. On Saturday mornings at the amphitheater, there’s an artisans’ fair.”

“Local talent?”

“Mmm,” Clark answered with a nod.

“Maybe we could come out Saturday.”

“Maybe.”

Lois looked around the park as they walked, the music beginning to slice through the night air. “The kids would love this place.”

“I can’t wait to bring them to play.”

“I know.” They continued on until they reached the top of the wall above the stage. Rock seating had been stacked up a hill, giving the effect of being a natural part of the landscape. They chose a spot in the middle of the wall at the top and sat down. They listened for nearly twenty minutes before a new group was introduced. Lois gasped when she recognized the keyboard player. “Jack!” she breathed.

Clark looked over at her with a smile. “His group is good, but his true gift is writing. Some of his songs are amazing.”

“Shhh,” Lois hissed, entranced by the music she heard. Jack’s group only played four songs in their set, but all four were fantastic. She clapped enthusiastically when they were done. “That was great,” she said after.

“I thought you’d like it.” He stood and held out his hand. “Ready?”

“We’re leaving?”

“Just moving on to the next part of our date.”

She kept her eyes on his as she took his hand and rose to her feet. He led her back to the car and drove them toward home.

“Clark?” she asked when they turned on their street.

He just smiled at her as he drove past the house to the end of the cul-de-sac. There was an empty lot between their house and Perry’s, owned equally by each of them. He parked and led her through the sparse thicket toward the back of the property. They faced one another and Clark smiled at her.

“Are your shoes tight?” he asked her.

“What?”

He pulled his glasses off and tucked them into his inside jacket pocket. Her eyes were wide, questioning as she watched every move he made. His hands went down to grasp her sides. “Let me give you the moon,” he told her and the air rushed around her. When they stopped moving and hovered among the stars, Lois gasped. He hadn’t taken her up this far before. The stars looked close enough to touch. “There she is,” Clark pointed out the moon hanging in the blanket of blackness. From this distance it was huge.

“Oh, Clark,” she breathed as she looked around. “This is… “

“I know.” He glanced at the stars. “I never get used to it.”

“How could you? This reminds you just how small you are.” Her eyes kept searching her surroundings, awe all over her face. This was beyond stunning. They hung there in silence, Clark allowing her to soak it all in.

Of course, while she was busy taking in her surroundings, he was busy staring at her. Had he ever seen a woman as beautiful as this one? Not being able to control his wayward limb, his hand lifted and he trailed his fingers down her neck, from below her ear to her shoulder. His action caused her to bring her eyes around to meet his.

“Will you go out with me again?” he asked her, not even close to what he wanted to say, but the safest by far.

“Yes.” Not an instant of hesitation in her reply.

His hand opened and he barely touched her shoulder as he moved it over and down her back. It came to rest on her side again. “I think I should take you home.”

That surprised her. By the way he said it, things had changed from a few moments ago. The expression on his face had changed, and he kept his eyes averted from hers as he brought them back down to Earth. They were parked in the driveway when Lois reached out to grasp his hand, effectively stopping him from getting out.

“I’ve had a wonderful time.”

“So have I.” He smiled, but it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. He tried to get out again, but she was still holding his hand.

“What happened, Clark?” she prodded softly. “One minute you were with me up there and the next you were gone.”

Clark sighed and eased back against the seat. “Lois, you move me like no woman ever has.” His free hand gripped the steering wheel, though he was careful not to grasp it too hard. “Being with you tonight, holding you close…” He turned his head to look at her. “It was time to come home before my blood started boiling.”

He was being a gentleman. His explanation was tame compared to what he truly felt. But he wouldn’t tell her the depth of his feelings. Not now. He felt it was too soon, felt she wasn’t ready to handle it.

She wasn’t… ready to handle it. Maybe ready to hear it, but it *would* be too soon.

“Aren’t you gonna open my door?” she asked him.

He laughed, her expression telling him she completely understood. She completely accepted it, even if she didn’t want to. He saw that, too. Her eyes were too expressive not to see it all.

He jumped out and hurried around to open her door. They talked softly and laughed a little on their way up to her room. They stopped at the door and Clark cupped her cheek. “Thank you.”

Her hand covered his, her eyes searching, begging for more. More than she’d ever had before. More than she’d ever felt before.

Don’t do it, he told himself even as he leaned forward. Just one touch, on and off before she knows I’ve been there.

He’s going to kiss me, she chanted silently as his face moved closer to hers. Oh, oh…

And he was there. His lips touched hers, soft, gentle, undemanding. He tasted *so* good!

Gone before she could stop him, she was left standing there with her eyes closed, stunned by how good it felt to be kissed by Clark Kent.

“Beautiful,” Clark whispered as his thumb stroked the skin under her eye. Her eyes opened and he smiled at her. “Goodnight,” he said.

Left to watch him walk the distance to his bedroom, Lois missed him already. “Goodnight,” she whispered. He stopped and looked back at her, then stepped into his room. When his door was closed, she was finally able to take a breath. It was another moment before she could move. Inside her room, behind her door, Lois wanted to sing. She hadn’t felt this lighthearted, this good in a years.

And suddenly all she could think about was their next date.

***

The lighthearted feeling was completely gone, replaced by overwhelming dread. Sickening, painful aching washed over Lois in waves as she paced back and forth beside the table while she waited for the guards to escort the devil into the room.

“Lois, you’re making me nervous,” Mayson told her. The lawyer had refused to allow Luthor to see Lois alone.

“I’m making *you* nervous?” She snorted a wry, humorless sound, clearly indicating she felt Mayson didn’t have a thing in the world to be nervous about. The door clanged and she stopped, fear washing over her in waves. She wished Clark was here, but he would see Lex after she had. The prosecutor refused to honor the madman’s request to see them both at the same time.

Lex stepped into the room and his evil leer washed over his face. “Lois, darling,” he drawled.

“I’m not your darling,” she told him coldly.

“Ah, I see you’ve already regained a bit of your fire.” He hobbled over to the table as best he could with his hands and feet shackled, and with a bullet hole in each leg, and dropped on a chair. “So, how is my wife these days?”

“I’m not your wife either,” Lois said. She refused to sit down, not wanting to be in the room with that slime longer than she had to be. “Just tell me why you wanted to see me.”

“A man has the right to see his wife.”

Lois stepped forward and slammed her hand down on the table, bringing herself face to face with him. “I am not your wife!” She stressed each word as she said it.

His brow arched and his leer deepened. “That’s the reason I chose you,” he said softly. “I just *had* to taste that fire.”

Mayson shot to her feet and reached out to grab Lois when she lunged for Lex. “Sit down, Lois. Don’t give him the satisfaction,” Mayson told her.

Lois stared him down for a long while before she finally eased to a chair. “I should have killed you when I the chance,” she bit out.

“That goes both ways,” Lex admitted, the smile on his face slowly dissipating. “Tell me, are your… little bastards well?”

Mayson placed a hand on Lois’ arm to disarm the next explosion. “Mr. Luthor, I don’t think that’s called for. Her children are none of your business. Your lawyer has informed you that the DA has filed a motion to bring charges for the many crimes you’ve committed against my client.”

“Yes, which is utterly ridiculous. Lois married me. She is my wife. I did not rape her.”

“Yes, you did,” Mayson spoke up before Lois could. “Paul Lang has supplied evidence to support that fact, as you will find out during the hearing tomorrow. Now…” Mayson stood up. “Being as you have nothing further with my client, I think this meeting is over.”

“Oh, but I do have something for your client,” Lex said with that tone that left little doubt that he’d been hiding something. “You see, Paul Lang was not the only doctor who worked for me.”

Lois felt a moment of panic. What in hell did he mean by that?

“My personal physician performed a few tasks for me that Lang knew nothing of.”

“What tasks?” Mayson asked him, sitting back down.

“Oh, no, Ms. Drake. I will not divulge such precious information until I have a signed agreement that I will not be charged with the rape of my wife.”

“A charge of rape is not going to make much of a difference in light of the murder charges, Luthor,” Mayson spoke up, all pretense of formality gone.

His eyes bored into Lois’, who didn’t waver a bit. “It will make a difference to me,” he replied. “I will know that *she* knows I’ve gotten away with what I’ve done to her.”

“Go to hell!” Lois spat at him and stood up to leave.

“I assure you that you want to hear this information,” he called after her. “It involves your children.” That stopped Lois at the door on the other side of the room and when she turned back toward Lex, he grinned. “I thought you might be interested.”

“What about my children?” she asked as she walked back over to the table.

“I want my deal.”

“You tell me what I need to know or I will climb over this table and choke you with my bare hands,” Lois said between clenched teeth.

“You will go back to jail.”

“It would be worth it,” she insisted.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Lois turned back toward the door. “I’d rather the DA ask for the death penalty,” she said and tapped the window for the guard to open the door. “Even if it means you’re never charged for anything you did to me.”

“The girl is dying,” Lex said as she stepped through the door. Lois froze. The expression on her face was worth it, he thought as he grinned at her. “A nasty little bacteria is eating her up as we speak. She’ll be dead by Christmas.”

Lois went back again, a thunderous roaring in her ears. “What?”

“She was injected with a little concoction my physician was experimenting with.” He shrugged. “Another test involved with the mind control drugs. We wanted to see how her death affected you. But then things got out of hand and, well, I figured if Lang had her when she died, no great loss. She meant nothing to me anyway. The boy either for that matter.” He laughed aloud. “Actually, he meant fifty billion dollars to me.”

“This bacteria,” Mayson began. “Was designed to work slowly?”

“Oh, yes. In fact, I’d bet your little angel is a sickly child. You’ve probably been told she has cancer, which the attack on her system closely resembles.”

Lois and Mayson exchanged a look, then slowly Lois smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell her doctors what to look for.” This time she did leave. Clark was waiting in the hallway a few rooms over when she came out. “He’s mad!”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. Go see what he wants with you, so we can get out of here.”

“Okay.” He reached out to squeeze her arm before heading in the direction she’d come from. He stepped into the room with Luthor a few minutes later.

“Ah, you must be the anonymous sperm donor,” Lex said with a smile. “Of course, you’re not so anonymous anymore, are you?”

“Cut the crap,” Clark told Lex.

“Looks like Perry White has a taste for reporters with attitudes. Tell me, Mr. Kent, are you sleeping with my wife?”

Clark cut his eyes at Mayson, who shook her head in disbelief. Luthor was trying to get under his skin, but he was not about to give him the satisfaction. “What do you want, Luthor?”

“I just wanted to the meet the man Paul felt should father *my* children.”

“Your children?” Clark asked incredulously. “You have a hell of a way of viewing things.”

“I am a man of vision and the only way to achieve brilliance is to pursue greatness.”

“Is that what all of this was to you? Lois is a human being, not some piece of meat you can do with what you want to do.”

Lex grinned widely. “You *are* sleeping with my wife.”

Clark, who had remained standing when he walked in, leaned over the table to bring his face close to Lex’s, placing his hands on the surface to hold himself up. “Just so you have something to think about while you’re waiting to die in this hellhole, I don’t have to rape her to get what I want.” Clark stood up and turned around to leave, but stopped at the door. “And, Luthor, nothing is quite as sweet as stoking a fire into a raging inferno.”

Mayson snickered as she stood up to follow Clark out. “The charges *will* be filed,” she told Luthor before she left, too. Clark was leaning against the wall taking deep breaths in through his nose when she made it to the hall. “Nice, Kent,” she told him and tugged on his jacket so they could leave. Lois was standing in the parking lot looking fit to be tied.

“It’s about damn time!” she snapped and jumped in the car. “Come on, Clark. We have to meet your parents at S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“What?” He looked between the women as he stood beside the car holding Lois’ door to keep her from closing it.

“Lex told Lois that his personal physician injected Perry with some kind of bacteria that was supposed to kill her.”

“WHAT?!” he nearly shouted.

“Relax,” Mayson told him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “Her super blood must be fighting it off because Lex said she should be ill. And last time I saw her she was wide open.”

“She’s on the way to Bernie for tests to make sure,” Lois told them. “So let’s go!”

Clark gave Mayson an apologetic look before hurrying around the car.

“I’ll see you at the hearing tomorrow morning,” Mayson shouted as they drove off.

An hour later, Bernie came out of his lab carrying a happily chatting Perry. He gave the worried parents a wide grin. “I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry about this child being sick,” he told them.

“Hi, Daddy,” Perry said as she fell over into Clark’s arms.

“Hi, baby,” Clark said as he held her close.

“Uncle Bernie gave me a sucker.” She showed him her prize. “Hi, Mommy!”

“Hi, sweetie,” Lois told her.

“Perry definitely inherited your blood, Clark,” Bernie went on. “Any bacteria that might have been there is long dead.” He reached out to hold Perry’s hand. “Come see me again, Perry.”

“I will. Bye-bye!”

“Thank you, Bernie,” Clark told the doctor and carried his little girl out into the hallway. His parents had stepped out to allow Collin to walk a bit and when the boy saw his daddy, he ran that way. Clark bent to catch him with his free arm and smiled at him.

“Well?” his mother wanted to know.

“She has super blood,” Clark told her.

“Bernie doesn’t believe she’ll ever be sick,” Lois finished the explanation.

“That’s my girl,” Jonathan announced and reached out to take her. “Who wants ice cream?”

“Dad!” Clark whined when both children yelled their agreement.

“Oh, hush, boy,” his dad said. “Getting poked with needles deserves a little ice cream.”

“Give it up, Clark. Grandpa outweighs Daddy,” Lois told him as she wrapped her arm around his back and leaned over to tickle Collin.

Clark laughed softly, giving up his protests. They’d all eat ice cream today. For once he was glad to be Superman. If he hadn’t been…

Well, the alternative probably wouldn’t matter. If he hadn’t been Superman, these babies probably wouldn’t exist in the first place. But he was really glad Perry had inherited his super blood. It had saved her life.

***

It was barely three in the morning and Lois was up- again. Finally giving up trying to go back to sleep, she got up and padded out of her room. She stopped in the doorway of the room the twins shared. They were both sound asleep in their new beds they had all picked out. One was pink, one blue- toddler size. Clark said they could get bigger ones later. He wanted them to be little as long as they could. So did she. After a final look, she headed toward another room where she knew she could find a bit of solace.

Why Clark had become so important to her well-being she’d never know. The door was only half closed, the way it usually was. He left it open for her, she was sure. Venturing inside, she could see he was lying on his back tonight. One arm was above his head, the other resting on his stomach. He had kicked the cover aside in his sleep and she got a full view of his perfectly sculpted body. She’d never seen him go to bed without a pair of shorts on, but tonight all he was wearing was the tight boxer briefs he wore instead of traditional underwear. The cloth stopped mid-thigh, accentuating his toned muscles. Black- he was wearing back underwear. Underwear that sat low on his stomach where perfect abs gave way to…

She tore her eyes away from his lower body, feeling herself burn in embarrassment. Clark was certainly built a lot differently than Lex.

And even as that thought entered her mind, she forced it right back out. Lex Luthor didn’t have a place in this house. Yet he was the reason she was awake. Almost painfully anxious about tomorrow’s hearing, she didn’t think she’d be able to sit still until it was over, much less sleep.

Standing in the middle of Clark’s room in the dark ogling his near-naked body wasn’t going to get her back to sleep either. But it was much better than thinking about Lex, she had to admit as she stood there looking at the man on the bed. He was beyond gorgeous. She moved closer, gently eased onto the mattress, and reached out to touch him.

By the time the mattress moved, Clark was awake. He’d been on the edge of sleep all night, his thoughts too troubled to rest. He’d been thinking about everything that happened earlier in the day and was keyed up tighter than a stretched rubber band. He’d been flying, taken three showers, worked on the furniture in the office, checked on the kids, and had been lying here for a while wondering if he should just go ahead and get up. When Lois’ hand touched him, he kept his eyes closed. He was curious to see what else she’d do.

And excited as hell. He’d almost jumped up when he realized she was standing in the room looking at him. After his last shower, he’d left his shorts off and he was briefly worried about his state of undress with her in the room. But undoubtedly she liked it. Or didn’t dislike it. She hadn’t run screaming from the room.

Her hand smoothed over his solid pecs, down just under his arm. The hair in his pits was a faint white, indicating he’d used a bit too much deodorant. She liked his deodorant; it smelled really good.

Her hand kept moving, across his shoulder, over his arm, to his hand. He had a lone freckle on the back of his left hand. Her finger touched the mark and she smiled. He had great hands.

She continued down, onto his stomach. Could she hear his heart beat? It was slamming rapidly against his chest; her touch driving him wild.

“I know you’re not asleep,” she said softly.

His lips curved into a smile, but he didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

“You feel…” She leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder. “Dangerous.”

“Huh?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at her.

“Have you ever wanted something you know might not be good for you? Something that you know is the best thing in the world you could ever have? Something that’s the safest, most gentle thing you could think of even though it’s also the scariest thing in the world?”

He brought the hand down from over his head and smoothed his way up her arm. “Lois, we don’t…”

“I know that. I really know that,” she said as she sat up, leaning on her elbow. “We don’t have to do anything. But God help me, Clark, I want to,” she told him softly.

He leaned up on his elbow so they were face to face. “I don’t want to scare you…” He lifted his free hand and touched her face, threading her hair through his fingers. “… but I want that, too.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

“I know.” He continued to play with her hair, moving it behind her ear. “I made a decision a long time ago that because I was different, I would have to be careful who I shared an experience like that with. Lana and I were together six years before we ever slept together. Yeah, we started dating when we were fifteen…” He shrugged, grinning widely. “Mayson and I were together six months before we were intimate.” He watched his fingers trail down her arm. She was wearing a tank top, exposing her creamy shoulders. “I’ve met other women I was attracted to. Some I’ve thought about that with.” His eyes met hers. “But I have never met a woman that I was attracted to the way I am to you.” His voice was low, husky with pent-up desire. “When I look at you, I’m very glad I’m a man.”

“I’m glad you’re a man, too,” she told him and grinned. He chuckled softly as he lay back down, bringing her with him. He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed tightly.

“God, lady, I’m glad I know you.”

“I’m glad I know you.” She held him around the waist, scooted a little closer, and threw her leg over his stomach.

“Even if it might kill me,” he mumbled.

She giggled and sighed heavily. “I’m staying.”

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head, then closed his eyes. He might have to take a swim in the Arctic at dawn, but he was going to hold this woman tonight.

Lois, too, was content where she was. Her libido screamed one thing, her mind another, and her heart still another. She’d figure it out, eventually.

They’d figure it out together. She closed her eyes and relaxed for the first time that night.

***

Thankfully Lois was gone when Clark woke up, but it still didn’t help ease the tightly wound tension in his body. Holding Lois the way he had for those few blissful hours reminded him painfully that it had been a while since he’d had sex. It also reminded him how much he missed it.

Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true. He *did* miss having sex, though right now he didn’t want just a quick physical release. He wanted so much more, which he was fairly certain he could attain in a relationship with Lois Lane. He’d admitted to his mother right before their first date that he already loved Lois. It wasn’t a lie. He did love her, baggage and all. It didn’t matter to him what she might have to deal with in order to heal. It didn’t matter to him if it was months before she was ready to progress past friendly affection. It might be heart wrenching, physically painful, and frustrating beyond belief, but for her, he’d wait as long as she needed him to.

He showered and went to find the woman of his dreams. She’d showered and dressed already.

“Hey,” she told him when he came into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said, offering her a bright smile. “I missed you when I woke up.” He told her as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I thought I’d let you sleep. You looked so peaceful.” She looked up at him, her eyes studying his.

He lowered his coffee cup and lifted his hand to touch her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Can we fly?”

He chuckled softly. “We can.”

“Then yes. And I want to do something fun. Really fun,” she told him as she started toward the door. “The twins are watching TV in the den.”

“Yeah, I saw them. Are you going into the city with me this morning?”

“If you don’t mind,” she said as she stopped to look back at him. “We have to be at the Hall of Justice at ten anyway…”

“Maybe after the hearing we can go look at another car. You guys need one here.”

“Perry won’t mind you ducking out on him?”

“Are you kidding? He’s going to get a nice little bowtie to put on the Luthor story.” Clark took another drink of his coffee.

“True. Down in ten,” she called as she went through the doorway.

Clark went out to the den to say good morning to his kids before they left. Twenty minutes later his mom had come to sit with the twins so they could head to the city. Lois hung out at the Planet until time to go the hearing at the Hall of Justice, looking into information on Lex’s personal physician. If something hinky was going on, Mad Dog was determined to sniff it out.

As the time for the hearing approached, Lois became more agitated. She snapped at both Jack and Jimmy before they left, which she immediately apologized for. Perry gave her a warm hug and told her to hang tough. On the way to the hearing Clark had to grasp her hand to keep her from biting her nails.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her.

“Yeah.” She pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve a bit of the stress slamming into her especially hard today. “I just want it over with.”

Clark rubbed her hand with his thumb as he made the final turn toward the parking garage next to the Hall of Justice. They had to sit in the Jeep for several moments to allow Lois the time to work up enough nerve to get out. There was a huge crowd of media already gathered outside the building waiting to hear the fate of Lex Luthor. Wisely, Clark took them in through the back entrance. Mayson had called him earlier and instructed him to do so in order to save Lois a little stress. The hearing itself was going to be bad enough. Luthor’s crimes were going to be detailed for the court. And even though the DA had agreed to a plea bargain, the judge could decide against it and order Luthor to be bound over for trial.

“How are you doing?” Mayson asked Lois when they made it to where she was standing outside the door of the courtroom.

“I’m… here,” she said. “But you didn’t have to be.”

“Of course I did,” Mayson replied with a smile as she rubbed Lois’ shoulder. “I’ve been with you guys from the beginning and I’ll be here until the end.”

“Do you realize that might be years?” Lois asked her. “It won’t be over until the bastard’s dead.”

“Then I’m glad we’re friends.”

Lois gave Mayson a smile of appreciation as they were called in to speak with the DA. The deal was outlined and he briefly explained what would happen during the hearing.

And before Lois was truly ready, they were watching the bailiff bring a shackled Lex Luthor into the room. She shivered involuntarily as his cold eyes met hers, but she didn’t look away. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He leered at Clark, then sat down beside his attorney. The judge entered and court was called into session.

The district attorney was a middle-aged man with a proven track record for getting justice. He’d helped put away some of the biggest criminals in the city, but this case was, by far, the biggest of his career. He outlined several of the charges against Luthor, including fraud, racketeering, kidnapping, and murder.

“This brief says that you are adding additional charges,” the judge said as he read over a paper in his hand.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the DA replied. “We have charged Mr. Luthor with kidnapping, criminal neglect, imprisonment, medical interference, assault, nine counts of rape, and four counts of sodomy.”

Clark’s eyes widened just a bit when the new charges were read. He’d known Luthor had raped her, but sodomy? That was…

Luthor truly was a sadistic individual.

Beside him Lois bounced her leg at a frantic pace, her hands nearly white where she was squeezing the edge of her seat on either side of her.

“All charges are in relation to a single victim?” the judge wanted to know.

“Yes.”

“Is she in the courtroom?”

“Yes. But, Your Honor, we are respectfully requesting that she not be acknowledged. I will read the statements myself detailing the crimes which led to these additional charges,” the prosecutor said.

“Objection,” came the quick response of Sheldon Bender, Luthor’s attorney. “My client is entitled to face his accuser.”

Lois’ leg stopped and she held her breath.

“Come now, Mr. Bender,” the judge said. “Your client is well aware who his accuser is.”

“Yes, Your Honor, but Mr. Luthor states that he will reject this deal unless his accuser gives a statement.”

Spots danced in front of her eyes as Lois sat there. Mayson had assured her she wouldn’t have to speak at this hearing. There was more than enough evidence to support her claims in the form of statements they’d attained from different people that worked for Lex. Now that the monster was behind bars, everyone he’d ever wronged was coming forward. Since his initial arrest, charges had been added almost daily to the already incredibly long and mind boggling list of atrocities.

“Are you kidding me?” came the remark from the bench. “Mr. Luthor, don’t you think you’ve humiliated this poor woman enough?”

“Your Honor!” Bender protested.

The judge held up his hand. “Relax. I am not making her do this. And just for the record, Mr. Luthor, I don’t care if you reject this deal or not. You will be bound over for trial and I can assure you there is more than enough evidence to present to a jury.”

“Then my client pleads not guilty to all charges.”

“Suit yourself,” the judge told them.

Luthor tugged on Bender’s sleeve and the balding man leaned down to listen to his client for a moment. Whatever Luthor said caused him a great deal of surprise. He argued with him for a moment in hushed tones.

“Mr. Bender,” the judge spoke out.

Bender sighed heavily, then looked back at the man on the bench. “Your Honor, my client wishes to take a brief recess to speak with the DA.”

“I don’t think we need a recess.”

“He’s willing to agree to a new deal.” Bender looked toward the DA. “One I’m sure the prosecutor would be only too happy to hear.”

“With the court’s permission,” the DA spoke up. “The state is willing to hear him out.”

“Very well,” the judge said. “You have ten minutes.” The bang of the gavel gave them a brief reprieve.

Lois turned to Mayson with wide eyes. “I can’t do this,” she said fiercely.

“Relax. You’re not.” Mayson jumped up and went to find out what that monster was up to.

Lois practically ran from the room. Clark followed her out to where she was pacing back and forth in the hall.

“I can’t do it, Clark,” she said as she looked up at him, not slowing her journey across the tile.

“You don’t have to.”

But that didn’t make her feel any better. Her short heels clicked as she nearly stomped down the hall then back again. Clark recognized her need to vent some and wisely stayed across the hall. Mayson came out a few minutes later, a grim expression on her face.

“You were right, Lois. The bastard’s mad.”

“What does he want?” Clark asked her.

“He’s willing to plead guilty on all charges if she details for the court what he did to her.”

“NO!” Lois said immediately.

“Lois, he’s willing to take whatever sentence the judge deems fit.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“He’s willing to lay his life on the line.”

“Just to hear me say it out loud?” Lois shook her head in disbelief. “That sick, sick, twisted, perverted… bastard!” She walked a few paces away and threw up her hands. “Either way I’ll have to do it. If I don’t go in there now and do it, I’ll have to at his trial.”

“Lois, you don’t have to do this at all,” Clark told her.

“Yes, Clark, I do. If I don’t, he’ll get away with it. Is that what you want?”

“I want you healthy and able to breathe every morning when you wake up.”

“I want that, too,” she said. “But it won’t happen if I don’t do this.”

“Lois, he has so many charges on him…”

“Clark, I know…” She shoved a hand through her hair in frustration. Stopping a few feet away from him and Mayson, she stared toward the exit where she could see the gang of reporters on the other side of the door. This was absolutely not what she’d wanted to do today, but… “It’s like pulling the Band-Aid off fast,” she declared when she turned around. “Let’s go send this monster to hell.”

Clark watched helplessly as she walked past him, back inside the courtroom. “Mayson, you can’t let her do this.”

“I can’t stop her,” the woman told him. He was about to protest further, but she placed a hand on his chest. “Clark, you might not want her to do this, but I think she has to.”

“But…”

“If you can’t handle it, stay out here.” Mayson left him standing there arguing with himself.

The absolute last thing he wanted to do was go in that room and listen to Lois talk about the things Luthor did to her. But he couldn’t stay here and let her do this alone. Against his better judgment, he took a deep breath and went inside.

The unorthodox situation was explained and the judge agreed to pass sentence after Lois testified.

“Now, you understand that you do not have to do this, Ms. Lane,” the judge said after she’d taken her oath.

“As long as you understand that I do,” she said, looking straight at the graying man.

He seemed to understand completely and nodded his head. “Very well. Let the record show that Lois Lane is ready to give her statement.”

Lois sat down, took a deep breath, and looked straight at Lex. The DA stood up and walked closer.

“Ms. Lane, we will keep this informal. You just tell the court what you wish to say.”

“Could you move?” He’d stopped between her and Lex. If she was going to do this, she was going to look that devil in the eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“I need you to move. If he wants to hear me say it, then I need to look at him when I do.” The DA, too, seemed to understand and moved back over near his table. She met and held Lex’s gaze while she began to speak. “Just so you know,” she said directly to him. “This will be the abridged version. I won’t drag this out for hours so you can get whatever sick, perverted pleasure you hope to receive from it.” Lex gave a nod of his head, a huge grin on his face. “I met Mr. Luthor at a charity event several years ago. He agreed to an interview. During that interview he was charming and impressive, and I agreed to see him again. We saw one another over the course of few months before I shared dinner with him at his penthouse one evening. The next morning I woke up in his bed. At the time I thought I’d had too much champagne and lost my mind. Since then I’ve learned that Lex himself helped me to lose my mind. I was drugged.”

“Objection,” Bender said.

“Your Honor,” the DA protested.

“Mr. Bender, the agreement was that she speak freely,” the judge reminded the attorney.

Bender sighed and sat down as Lex tugged on his sleeve.

“Please continue, Ms. Lane,” the judge told her.

“Just weeks later I found myself married to Lex, another affect of the drugs. And it became painfully clear why he’d wanted to get married. The first night he drugged me, he had Dr. Paul Lang inseminate me. Of course, the drugs were supposed to make me believe the children were his. I did until much later.” She tucked a wayward hair behind her ear, still intent on looking at Lex. “During our *marriage* I was drugged daily. Most of the time I didn’t know who I was or where I was. I was pregnant with twins I never bonded with because I was denied that right. I birthed those twins inside a room in the penthouse with nothing for pain. Lex needed a boy so my little girl was never acknowledged. Her birth was never registered. He needed my son to collect money from his other life, but my daughter was kept to control me. She was six weeks old the first time he threatened to kill her if I didn’t perform oral sex on him.”

Clark’s brows shot toward his hair and he looked away. No wonder she felt like clawing men’s eyes out!

“That became a weekly event. He’d hold his hand around her neck until I fell to my knees in front of him.” Lois paused to allow her hatred to give her enough strength to continue. “I discovered the drugs in my juice and stopped taking them. When I became lucid enough to think for myself, I got my daughter out of there. When he discovered she was gone, he hit me, killed the babysitter, then framed me for murder.”

“Ms. Lane, I have to ask you to describe…”

“I know,” she told the DA, interrupting him. “After I was off the drugs for a while, things started coming back to me. The first time I figured out things weren’t quite what they seemed was on our wedding night. He had sex with his secretary. Or at least the secretary for that week. He went through a lot of those. I’d check missing persons reports. I’m sure some of those women have never gone home again.”

“Objection!”

“Mr. Bender, please sit down,” the judge told him. “Continue,” he said to Lois.

“Of course, the sex with the secretary was after he’d raped me. I realized things didn’t feel quite right, so I told him no.” She glared at Lex, conveying in her dark eyes just what she thought of him. “No was not a word I was allowed to use. We never had a conventional relationship. I slept in one room, he in another. I slept alone, he slept with whomever he wanted to. The night he found out I was pregnant he raped me. Told me it was a reward for being such a good girl.”

Clark’s leg was the one bouncing now. How had she lived through that?

“After that, he left me alone until Lang told him I’d reached my first trimester. He celebrated that by holding me down across his desk. That was the first time he sodomized me.” Her eyes jumped to Clark briefly. He looked miserable. Why couldn’t he have stayed outside? He’d never want to touch her again after today, let alone go out with her tonight.

Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t want to go tonight. She was going to want to spend the next three days taking scalding showers and trying to scrub her skin off. She was already beginning to literally feel that monster.

She went on to describe each and every time Lex raped her, leaving out how those encounters had made her feel or the fact that she’d bled for hours after the last one. She’d hid that from him, hoping at the time that she’d lose the baby. Then she couldn’t have imagined a sweeter revenge. But now… He’d made that one count the most. He’d made her scream in pain and further humiliated her because he’d made her watch while he raped another woman just an hour later.

Lois stopped talking when Clark shot to his feet and hurried from the room. Lex turned to watch the other man leave, then grinned even wider when he looked back at her. Lois glared at him again.

“After all you’ve done, I’m still here. But look at you. Getting your jollies listening to the woman you kidnapped and raped repeatedly talk about what you did to her. I hope you enjoyed it because unless you become big Bubba’s bitch on the inside, this is the last time you’ll ever get your jollies, and never again from a woman.” She finished with a satisfied sigh when she saw the expression on Lex’s face cloud over. “Is that enough?” she asked the DA.

“More than enough,” was the answer.

“You can step down,” the judge said.

Lois stood and held her head high as she walked past Lex and Bender. She thought about going after Clark, but she’d started this. She had to see it through to the end. Mayson reached up to pat her shoulder when she sat down.

The judge sat there for several long moments before he looked up. “I have never had an accused man agree to lay himself at the mercy of the court just so he could hear something so…” He just shook his head. “Mr. Luthor, your request tells me that you are indeed a very disturbed man. However, because you have chosen to put yourself in such a position, I am inclined to pass judgment quickly and firmly. The people of this state deserve closure. For your victims, you owe them nothing short of justice. I am not saying it is right or even the best thing to do. However, I feel it would be a burden on the state to house you for the remainder of your life. Considering the evils you’ve perpetrated, it’s an expense I’m not willing to inflict on my constituents.” He picked up a pen and wrote for several seconds. “Stand while I pass judgment.” After Luthor was on his feet, the judge looked him in the eyes. “Lex Luthor, in accordance with the laws of this state and in light of the nature of your crimes, by your own admission, New Troy seeks justice. You are hereby sentenced to die by lethal injection for your crimes at a date and time no more than ten years from this date, barring appeals fail to render a different outcome. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The bang of the gavel resounded loudly, echoing inside Lois’ head. It was her turn to get up and hurry from the room. Clark was standing just outside the bathroom with his head lying against the wall. He looked up when she breezed past him into the women’s room. She barely made it to the toilet before she emptied the contents of her stomach.

“Did you hear?” Mayson asked Clark outside when she made it to his side.

“No.”

“Lethal injection.”

Part of him wanted to cheer. But his more rational side wouldn’t allow him to celebrate any man’s impending doom. Not even Lex Luthor’s. He was more angry that men snapped and became like Lex Luthor. Of course, he didn’t really believe Luthor had snapped. He believed he’d always been rotten.

The ladies room door opened and Lois stepped out. Her face was white, her hands were shaking.

“Are you okay?” Clark asked her.

“Are you?” she wanted to know as she stepped closer to him.

He offered her a sad smile and reached out to cup her cheek. “I’m better now that it’s over.”

“Me, too,” she said and wiped her face with the paper towel she was holding. She noticed he was holding a towel, too. “It made you sick?” she asked in a whisper.

“Lois…” he breathed. It had made him sick. For the first time since he was little, Clark had thrown up. But they didn’t need to talk about that now. Not here.

“Lois, you were amazing,” Mayson told her, interrupting their exchange. “Strong beyond anything I could have ever imagined.” She reached up to clap Clark on the upper part of his arm. “You might want to take lessons from this woman.”

“Believe me,” Clark told her. “I am constantly taking notes.” He held out his hand and was relieved when Lois took it. “I think we’re going home,” he told Mayson.

“I’m filing a motion Monday for an expedient decision on Lois’ legal state,” she called after them.

Lois stopped and turned toward the other woman. “Thank you.”

“Thank you. You made sure today that a serious threat to society was put away.”

With a sad nod, Lois tightened her grip on Clark’s hand and allowed him to walk her out. When they settled in the Jeep, he turned toward her. He was about to say something when she spoke.

“We need to get to the Planet. I have to write this up before I lose my nerve.”

“Don’t you think that can wait?”

“Clark, I *need* to do this.” Her expression begged him to understand. She couldn’t explain, just felt that if she didn’t do this now, she’d never be able to do it.

He finally sighed and twisted back toward the wheel. “Okay,” he said and started the car. As he drove, he recalled the things she’d said. Mayson was right. Lois was a very strong woman. She hadn’t needed to do what she’d done. Yet she’d sat there, stared her captor- her rapist- in the eyes and told everyone what was done to her. He knew how much it had cost her to do it, what it was going to cost her. She’d done it and now she’d tell the world she’d done it.

They pulled into the parking garage of the Planet and climbed out of the car. The subdued mood clouding around them felt stifling. Clark watched as Lois seemed to walk on autopilot into the building. Nothing was said on the elevator ride to the newsroom.

“Use my computer,” Clark told her and held out the chair for her.

She gave him a grateful smile and sat down. “Why don’t you write a tag for the article? You were there, too. It would be a great addition.”

She wouldn’t look at him, but he heard the desperation in her voice. Why desperate? “I’ll see if Jimmy will let me use his computer.”

“I can use his…”

Clark placed his hand on her shoulder. “Stay. Please,” he said. She nodded and turned her eyes to the screen. He left her and walked over to Jimmy’s desk. Jimmy relinquished his station and went to say hi to Lois. With a sigh, Clark shrugged out of his jacket and got to work.

Lois spoke with Jimmy, then pulled open the bottom drawer on the desk to put her bag inside, smiling when she saw how neat Clark’s workstation was. Her eyes lit on the picture on the corner of the desk of her two babies. That was what she was working so hard for, she thought as she called up a program on the computer. For them and the man across the room. Glancing at Clark she felt sick all over again. He must think her horrible and filthy now. How could she ever look at him again? He’d told her he was better now that it was over. What did that mean exactly? He’d been sick. Clark was Superman. Superman didn’t get physically ill. Had it all repulsed him that badly? How much would her presence affect him now?

And why was it so important to know exactly what he’d been thinking? How he felt? More than anything else right now, that was what she wanted to know. Needed to know.

It was important because she was banking everything on that man. She wanted… something with him.

A life! She wanted a life with him, she admitted. No matter how irrational, she wanted a life with him. Was it possible now? Had she ruined everything?

Had Lex ruined everything? Had Lex ruined the rest of her life? Even now? Even though she was free of him?

But she’d never be completely free of Lex Luthor. He’d always haunt her, in some way, in some form, Lex would be with her for the rest of her life.

Right now, though, she was going to tell the world that at least one day it would be free of him.

***

Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time since they’d gotten home, Clark was beginning to wonder if he should see Bernie about getting an oxygen tank. It would probably be easier to have a steady supply. He and Lois had written up their pieces on the day’s events and headed home. She’d told him she just wasn’t up to looking at cars today, even though he hadn’t asked. Just as they pulled into the driveway, she’d also told him she wasn’t in the mood to go out either. He’d known she wouldn’t be. He also knew she was hurting.

Martha knew when they got home, too. She’d looked devastated because Lois was in pain, but she hadn’t said anything. She’d graciously cooked dinner for the small family and offered to take the twins home with her and Jonathan tonight. Lois, however, said she wanted them to stay with her. She managed to smile and laugh a bit as she played in the pool with Collin and Perry after the kitchen was cleaned. And even though she included Clark in their play, she still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. She insisted on handling bedtime duties, so Clark was relegated to staring at the wall in the den because he still hadn’t picked out a new television. He’d also left his old one for Jack and Denny. Maybe he’d head to the electronics store tomorrow. At least with a TV, he could have watched the game.

Deciding that working on the furniture in the office was better than doing nothing, he got up and headed that way. He’d sanded the last bookshelf and was cleaning up when he looked up to see Lois standing in the doorway. “I was beginning to think you had already gone to bed.”

“I have too much on my mind.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. For the first time since they’d left the Hall of Justice, she held his gaze. “That’s understandable.”

“How about you?”

“What?” He picked up a towel to wipe his hands.

“What’s on your mind?”

He cocked his head so that he could really look at her. She wanted the truth and nothing less would do.

“Please tell me,” she said. “Because it can’t be worse than I’m imagining. I realize your opinion of me has probably changed now.”

“What?”

“Excuse me for being raped repeatedly.” She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. “I knew if I told you exactly what he’d done, it would make a difference.”

“Lois, it does matter than you suffered. I hate that you did. You didn’t ask for any of that. But what difference is it supposed to make? I feel the same way now that I did before today.”

“It’s made some kind of difference. You didn’t even speak to me on the way to the Planet. Or on the ride up to the newsroom.”

“Oh, Lois,” Clark said as he tossed the towel on one of the shelves. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I didn’t think you wanted to talk. You seemed so distant.”

“I was distant. I was thinking about how much what you heard was going to effect us.”

He walked over to her and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “I hope it brings us closer together.”

“How? How could it?” she asked and turned around to walk back into the den. “After what you heard, after all of that, how can you stand to look at me, much less touch me?” She stood in front of the fireplace, staring at the screen, her arms crossed over her body.

Clark walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her. His hands gripped her wrists, his face rested on her shoulder. “You mean like this?” He smoothed his hands over hers, back up her forearms. “Like this?” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Or this?”

With each touch she’d tensed. When his face touched hers, a sob escaped. Then another.

“Or how about like this?” Clark asked as he turned her toward him and pulled her against his chest. She slowly began to cry. Her arms unfolded and she reached around him to grasp the back of his shirt. He held her while she let go one more round of grief and frustration. When she calmed, Clark ran his hands up and down her back. “Nothing, *nothing* could change how I feel about you.”

She pushed away from him and wiped her face as she put some distance between them. “You can’t honestly tell me that you weren’t a little sick listening to what you heard.”

“Yes, I was. Physically. That’s why I left the courtroom. But, Lois, Luthor forced you to do those things. If you think *you* somehow make me sick because of those horrible things, you have a lot to learn about me.” She slowly turned to face him. “I was and I still am horrified that he… humiliated you like that. To think of how badly he hurt you makes me want to forget I’m Superman and kill him myself. But this idea you’re trying to create is not going to happen. I could never be sickened by you. After all of that, you’re still here and you’re still beautiful and…”

“Desirable?”

“You have no idea how much,” he told her as took a step in her direction. “When you came to me last night, and let me hold you…” He took a breath. “That was incredible. The trust you put in me… I told you last night and I’ll tell you again, except this time I’ll say it clearly so you can’t mistake what I mean… I am incredibly attracted to you. I find you so desirable, it hurts at times.” He moved to stand just inches from her. “And I want you as much now as I did last night.”

“How can you, Clark?” she groaned. “How can you possibly want to be where he’s been?”

Clark sighed heavily and glanced away from her. “My first instinct is to kiss you senseless and make love to you right here, right now.” Her brows crept toward her hair and his eyes went back to hers. “I know that’s not possible. But I promise you, I *want* you. I want to make love to you, but when I do… And yes, I said when. *When* I do, it will be *nothing* like that.” He stepped a little closer, nearly touching her. “I want to replace those memories with wonderful, exciting memories that leave little doubt about where I want to be.”

She stood there staring up at him, searching his eyes for any hint that he didn’t mean what he’d just said. His words set her on fire. She wanted him to make love to her, too. Yet she was terrified. Although the conviction she saw and felt from him left anticipation deep in the pit of her stomach. He’d do what he said. One day, Clark Kent would replace those nightmares with sweet memories. Finally she smiled. “Well, okay then.”

“Okay then,” he replied with a smile of his own. “Now, since we didn’t get to go on our date tonight, what do you say we do something here?”

“Like what?”

“We can play cards or a board game or…”

“Look at cars on the internet?”

“Race you to the computer.” His eyes flashed, but it was too late. She was halfway to the kitchen. The laptop was on the counter. They decided to set it up on the coffee table so they could sit on the couch and settled to spend the next couple of hours haggling over which vehicle would be best. Clark was relieved that another breakdown was behind them. Patience, he reminded himself. He needed tons of patience. As long as he had that, his time would come. The time when he’d be allowed to hold Lois the way he truly wanted to.

As they sat there looking over the choices on the computer, Lois kept snatching glances at the man beside her. Jack was right. Clark was one of a kind. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he could get past what he’d heard, but she had too much vested in him not to find out just how deep his feelings ran. She’d lost her heart to this man and couldn’t ignore it even if she wanted to.

***

‘Even though the sentence seems to have been dealt unbelievably fast, the public is screaming it was the right path to take. When the evils of Lex Luthor were first revealed, disbelief swept across the city. After all, he was the biggest benefactor Metropolis has ever had. As the evidence came forth that indeed Lex Luthor was everything he’d been described to be, the public demanded justice. Well, yesterday they got it.’

Lois turned from watching the television broadcast from where she sat at Clark’s desk.

“I like this a lot better,” Clark said as he held up a copy of the Daily Planet. The next morning nearly every news channel was broadcasting the final chords of Lex Luthor’s swan song. Lois’ article was splashed across the front of the Planet with Clark’s sidebar below the fold.

“You know,” Perry said as he stepped out of his office. “I think you two should try a little piece together,” he told Lois and Clark.

“Funny you should mention that,” Lois started. After perusing the net for vehicles for a while the night before, she’d mentioned that the only thing she regretted in the whole Luthor, Delconto situation was that Bill Church seemed to be getting away with way too much. Clark agreed that the Costmart CEO was as dirty as Luthor. That sent them surfing through the net where they uncovered several inconsistencies, which was easy considering they knew where to look. They decided they would work together to bring down the final leg of criminal activity in Metropolis in the form of Bill Church and Intergang.

For the next week and half, the team of Lane and Kent worked to root out all of Church’s dirty activities. Martha was only too happy to sit with the twins. She saw the work as therapy for Lois and secretly hoped the extra time with Clark helped them grow closer.

The first venture of the new reporting team was as volatile as it was successful. They had a huge argument over creative differences just two days into the investigation. By the fifth day, Lois was the one to say she was sorry first, citing she missed Clark too much to care who was right or wrong anymore. That led to an emotional apology from Clark and a short, late night date out by the pool. They simply sat staring at the water and holding hands- reconnecting. The next day they were on fire. The Friday before Father’s Day the first Lane/Kent byline graced the front page in huge sixty-point headline.

“Let’s hope this isn’t a one-shot wonder,” Perry said as they stood around the newsroom celebrating the fall of Intergang.

“Maybe not,” Lois said as she cut her eyes at Clark. They had a date that night and all she could think about was getting out of there so she could get ready.

“Don’t forget,” Clark said as he looked around at Jack and Jimmy. “Cook-out at our place on Sunday.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Jack told him. “And we’re swimming, right?”

“Swimming, eating, maybe playing a game of basketball.” He was going to put up a goal over the garage doors tomorrow.

“We’ll be there,” Jack told him. “Early. Your mom invited us to breakfast.” He patted Clark’s shoulder and was gone.

“She invited me, too, buddy.”

“I’ll be sure to sleep in,” Lois joked as she stood up.

“Oh, funny, Lane,” Jimmy said as he wrapped an arm around her neck in a mock choke. “How long’s it been since you had a noogie?”

“Don’t you dare!” Lois said loudly.

Clark’s phone rang and he laughed as he picked it up. “Clark Kent.” His smile faded as he listened for a moment. “When?” He listened again. “Yes. She’ll be there.” Lois was waiting patiently when he hung up. “Lucy is asking for you.”

“What?”

“She’s asking for you.”

Lois grabbed her bag and took off for the elevator. Clark just made it through the doors before they closed.

“I’m glad I’m Superman,” he said with a chuckle. She grinned at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her mind was on her sister.

Luckily traffic cooperated and they made it across town to the hospital where her sister was receiving treatment in less than forty minutes.

“Ms. Lane,” said the charge nurse as she met them at the front desk. “Your sister has made quite a turn.”

They walked along beside her toward the wing Lucy stayed in. “Why such a drastic turn?”

“Well, it’s not exactly drastic.”

“If she’s lucid enough to want to see me, it’s quite drastic,” Lois argued. “I was here a couple weeks ago and she barely knew me.”

“After the detox, her mind cleared. Her new treatment has succeeded our expectations.”

“What new treatment?”

The nurse stopped them. “Your father has been treating her.”

“My father?!”

“Believe me, we had our doubts. However, his treatment has produced visible results.” She turned and opened the door on the closed wing. “As you will see.”

When they stepped into the room occupied by her sister, Lucy looked around and smiled. “Lois,” she breathed.

“Lucy,” Lois whispered as she looked at her baby sister. Her dark eyes were wide and clear. Moving around to sit across from Lucy at the small table, Lois reached across to grasp her sister’s hands. “How are you?”

“I’m better,” she replied. “Really better. My mind is clear for the first time in a long time.”

“I’m so glad to see you,” Lois told her softly, tears filling her eyes.

They shared a wide smile before Lucy’s eyes glanced up at Clark. “Who’s your friend?”

“Lucy, this is Clark.” Lois motioned for him to come closer. “This is Collin and Perry’s father.”

“What? I thought Lex… Perry? Did you get remarried and have another baby?”

Lois laughed softly. She forgot that Lucy didn’t know everything.

“Lois, you’ve been in prison. When did you have time to get pregnant?”

“Lucy, Collin has a twin sister- Perry.” Lois was about to dig in her bag when Clark flipped out a photograph. She gave him a grateful glance and took the picture to show Lucy. “See?”

“Oh,” Lucy gasped as she saw the image. “Look at them!”

“Lex is a maniac,” Lois told her. She gave Lucy the abridged version of the past few years and when she was done, Lucy looked back down at the kids in the picture.

“They’re gorgeous.” Her eyes lifted to meet Lois’. “I miss Collin. He kept me sane for so long.”

“Maybe I can bring him to see you.”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah.”

Lucy looked up at Clark. “I’m really glad you’re their father, and I don’t even know you.”

“Well, why don’t we change that?” Clark stepped forward and sat down in the other chair. “Clark Kent,” he said and held out his hand.

Lucy took his hand and smiled. “Lucy Lane. And I’m really glad I can remember that with clarity now.”

“Me, too.” Clark held her hand just a beat, then drew away. “Can you remember any juicy stories I can use to blackmail Lois… you know, just in case I might need to one day?”

“Don’t listen to him, Luce.” Lois said as she pushed his shoulder. “He’s a practical joker who loves to give me a hard time.”

Lucy laughed softly, but proceeded to tell Clark a story she did, in fact, remember about her sister. For the next hour or so the sisters caught up and included Clark in their conversation.

Lois held Clark’s arm as they walked out as he smiled down at her. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, Clark, I can’t describe how I feel.”

“Well, however it is, I love seeing it.”

She stopped them beside the car and grinned up at him. “Wait till you see me after our date tonight.”

“Still want to go?”

“Are you kidding? If we don’t go, I won’t talk to you for a week.” She patted his cheek and held out her hand. “Give me the keys. I’m driving.”

“Did I ever tell you I love an assertive woman?”

“No, but get used to it,” she replied as she took the keys. “I’m the most assertive woman you’ve ever met.”

“I have no doubt,” he said and climbed into the car. They both kept grins on their faces as they headed home.

***

Clark told Lois to dress comfortably because they were going to ‘play’ on their date, whatever that meant. He also told her they were going to be outside and since it was hot, she chose a stylish pair of shorts and the burgundy blouse Clark loved so much. He hadn’t told her that, of course, but she hadn’t missed the admiration in his eyes when she’d worn it the first time. She chose solid white sneakers with low-cut socks, stuffed a little money, even though she knew she wouldn’t need it, and her ID in her pocket and went to find her date.

In the middle of the den stood three of the best looking people she’d ever seen. Clark, too, wore shorts, khaki with a light blue shirt buttoned down over a muscle shirt. Both Perry and Collin were dressed to match their father- khaki shorts, blue shirts, and white sneakers.

Clark nudged Collin and he stepped over in front of Lois. He held up a white rose she hadn’t seen before now. “Mommy, will go out wif us?”

“Oh, honey, I’d love to.” She took the rose and smoothed a hand over the side of his face. When she straightened up, she smiled at Clark.

“I kinda’ thought it would be fun to hang out with all of my favorite people.”

“It would be terrific fun,” she agreed.

“Mommy, you look purdy,” Perry told her as she reached to take the little girl’s hand.

“So do you, Perry bug.”

They piled into the Jeep and headed for the park where she and Clark had been on their first date. They walked along behind the twins as they explored their surroundings, running from one new thing to another. Dinner was corn dogs and French fries from one of the vendors at the carnival after several rides. They took a short boat ride to give their food time to settle before going to play a few of the games. More rides, a walk on the trails, and a brief perusal of the latest band playing at the amphitheater before they headed for the Jeep to go home. Both kids were fast asleep by the time they pulled into the driveway. Lois carried Perry up to bed followed by Clark with Collin. They tucked them both in, gave out goodnight kisses, then stepped into the hall.

“Well, Mr. Kent, that was the best fun I’ve had on a date in a long time.”

Clark smiled as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “I aim to please.”

“Do you now?” She walked slowly toward her door. “How about joining me for lunch tomorrow?”

“If you don’t mind stopping off with me to pick out a television. I’m pretty tired of that empty wall down there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said. Her smile faded a bit and she reached out to touch his face. “Until tomorrow, Mr. Kent.” And before he knew what happened, she stepped forward and kissed him softly.

His mouth was still hanging open when she closed her door. His lips still tingled when he settled on the side of his bed a few minutes later. He’d been on stunned autopilot as he dressed for bed. With a huge grin and a satisfied sigh, he fell back onto his mattress. “Wow,” he managed to breathe and fell asleep a short time later with a wide smile.

***

Sunday morning dawned clear and beautiful- the perfect day for a cook-out. Clark and his father had spent most of Saturday making sure the yard was perfect, the pool was clean, and everything was set for their guests. Martha served breakfast on the patio, going all out to make Jack, Denny, and Jimmy feel at home. The small group ate, talked, and laughed as they shared their morning meal. By mid-morning Collin and Perry were ready to go swimming. Clark made sure they were loaded down with sunscreen and turned them loose with Jack and Denny. He sat with Jimmy and Lois and talked while his parents went to visit with Perry and Alice.

By noon, the grill was smoking and more guests had shown up. Perry and Alice ventured across the street and took up camp with the older couple of the house. Denny was inside discovering that a toddler had mad skills on a video game he loved, while the younger Perry shared tea with Jack. Jimmy set up a computer for Lois in the office while she talked with Mayson and became acquainted with Dan.

Dinner was eaten under the new canopy Clark had put up the night before to block the sun a bit. Thankfully it wasn’t an overly hot day.

“Okay, okay,” Jonathan announced when most everyone was done eating. “My wife informed me that this year I had to pass the Kent torch to my son, since he’s a father now. To me, and to him, he’s been a father since we first got little Perry, but…” He waved a hand in indecisiveness. “Anyway…” He took the gift Martha held out to him and passed it to Clark. “Happy Father’s Day, son.”

“Dad, you guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well, you know your mother,” Jonathan told him, causing everyone to laugh.

Clark opened the gift and grinned. “On second thought, I’ll take this one.”

“Damn straight. Those cost me a pretty penny.”

“Season tickets to the upcoming season of Knights football,” Clark said as he held up the item in his hand.

“Hey, who’s your buddy, CK?” Jimmy asked.

“Don’t worry, son,” Jonathan told him. He tossed Jimmy and Jack both a box. “You can go with that sorry joker.”

“But I’m not a father,” Jimmy protested.

“No, but you’re my son’s friend,” Martha said with a smile. “Enjoy!”

“Hey, wow! Mrs. K, Mr. K, this is too much,” Jack spoke up.

“Now, as far as we’re concerned, you *are* a father. He might be your brother, but you’re taking care of him,” Martha said.

“Speaking of which,” Denny said and held out a small box to Jack. When his brother looked at him with questioning eyes, Denny pushed it toward him. “Open it.” There was a card inside with a date and time on it. “Your group’s playing the showcase at Centennial Park.”

“What?” Jack and his group had been trying to get in the showcase for months. It was where all the hottest talent in the city came to show off their skills. It was also the jumping board for several successful careers.

“Happy Father’s Day, Jack,” Denny told him.

Jack looked as if he’d cry, but smiled at his brother instead. “This is cool.”

“Well, since everyone else is giving out their Father’s Day gifts,” Mayson spoke up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box to give Dan.

“Is it season tickets so I can join Clark there for the football games?” he asked enthusiastically, which caused another round of laughter. His wide grin faded into a shocked expression when he realized what the picture he was looking meant. “Really?” he asked Mayson.

“Really. I wanted to be sure so I waited. I know you missed the first sonogram…”

“Sonogram?” Lois asked.

Dan turned his picture around. “Looks like I might be a daddy, too,” he said with tears in his eyes. Everyone cheered and congratulated the couple.

After the excitement died down, Clark gave his father the keys to his new mower. Jonathan had been miserable with nothing to do all day, so Clark bought him a riding mower and all the accessories to take care of the property. But his real gift was for both of his parents- a weekend away, at a nice place in the mountains about a hundred miles north. He and Lois, Jack and Jimmy, along with Mayson, had gone together to give Perry and Alice a similar gift, which humbled the other couple to no end. Jonathan also received a couple of hand-drawn pictures from his grandkids, which he raved about. They had pictures for every man there as well, including their father. Clark hugged and kissed them both, declaring their gift the best yet. They both also had given him a new tie, very loud, very Clark.

As the afternoon wound down, Perry and Alice, along with the Kents, ventured across the street to play a game of pool in Perry’s game room while the younger people stayed behind. Clark managed to get the other men out to the driveway to play a game of basketball. Mayson and Lois sat on the patio to watch and shout insults. Collin and Perry stood at the fence and watched, when they weren’t drawing on the cement walk with their chalk.

Clark and Dan took on all three of the younger men and were holding their own pretty well. After shifting points back and forth, falling even once again, Clark stood bouncing the ball as he stared at the other guys.

“You know,” he said. “We’re making this too easy.”

“Want to put up some stakes?” Jimmy asked him.

“Yeah,” Clark said, still bouncing the ball. “Let’s play for…”

“Losers buy all the beer for the poker game next week,” Jack spoke up.

“We could do that, but that kinda’ cuts Denny out,” Clark said as his eyes moved from one man to the other. “Beer and… tuition.”

“What?” Jack asked.

“Losers buy the beer for the poker game for us big guys and tuition to Barclay Academy for Denny.”

“Clark, that’s not even funny.” Barclay Academy was the best high school in the city. To have Denny attend would be a dream come true. It would also be impossible. BA was as expensive as college.

“I happen to know the coach and he’s looking for a catcher for the baseball team.” Clark caught and held the ball. “If Denny can pass the entrance exam, he’s in.” He threw the ball at Jack. “That is if you lightweights can put the ball in the net.”

Jack stared at Clark for a moment, then dropped the ball, making it bounce again. “Game on.”

Clark grinned and went to work, but he refused to cheat by using his super powers. Jack and Jimmy were both quite skilled, proving to be more than he could handle at regular pace.

“Did you let us win?” Jack asked Clark.

“Jack, you know I wouldn’t do that,” he insisted.

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“Double or nothing,” Dan spoke up. “Losers have to cook steaks for the Fourth.”

“Now you’re talking,” Jimmy spoke up.

“I got one better,” Clark added as he reached into his pocket to pull out a set of keys. “If we lose, the keys to a nice used truck are Denny’s, too.”

Jack stopped bouncing the ball and looked at the older man. “Okay, what gives, CK?”

“Nothing. I just think that if Denny’s gonna be a senior at one of the most prestigious schools in the city, he should have a car.”

“Clark, I can’t accept that,” Jack spoke up.

“Jack,” Denny whined.

“You haven’t beaten us yet,” Clark pointed out. “Now, bring your A-game.” He gave the younger man another look and within minutes the men were tearing up the court. Clark fought hard, harder than he had the last game. But it wasn’t enough. Without super help, he and Dan really were no match for Jack and Jimmy.

“This is too much,” Jack told Clark as he stared up at him when their game was over.

“It’s not enough,” Clark replied. “An investment, remember? Besides, when your band wins that showcase, he’s gonna need that truck to haul your sorry butt to all your gigs.” Clark wrapped an arm around Jack’s neck and pulled him closer to rub his head. They wrestled for a moment before Jack reached out and hugged Clark. He drew back just as quickly as he’d grabbed him and walked away.

“Is that what you wanted, CK?” Jimmy asked him.

“Yeah. Thanks, guys,” he told Jimmy and Dan.

Lois had watched from her chair and when Clark went toward the cooler for a drink, she got up to go speak to him. “That was priceless,” she informed him. “But why didn’t you tell me about it? I could have helped.”

“The whole school thing came about just yesterday. And the truck- I bought it from Dan this morning. He asked me if I knew anyone that might want it. I’m sorry I excluded you.”

“I’m not. Well, I am, but…” She turned around to look at Jack and Denny talking. “The look on his face and that hug…” She turned back and hugged Clark much the same way Jack had done.

Clark was left to watch her hurry inside. If he’d known something like that would affect her that way, he might have done it a long time ago.

“Clark?”

He turned to face Mayson. “I wanted to say I’m sorry I sprang that announcement the way I did. I should have spoken with you first.”

“I thought we had gotten past the awkward stage.”

She smiled at him. “We have.”

“Good.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I’m thrilled for you two.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t be able to relax until the kid is twenty.”

That caused Clark to laugh out loud. “At least he or she will be clean.”

“Very funny, Kent.”

He and Mayson shared another laugh as they joined the others. Lois came back a few moments later and rejoined the group. After talking and sharing a few drinks, a dinner of leftovers was enjoyed under the canopy. They all went swimming and eventually the day came to an end. It had been a very good Father’s Day as far as Clark was concerned. He would sleep soundly tonight, he thought as he carried one of his sleepy children in to bed.

***

After putting the kids to bed, Lois disappeared inside her room. A few moments later she was standing in Clark’s doorway. “Clark?”

He looked around from dropping his glasses on his nightstand and smiled when he saw Lois. She’d already dressed for bed and was walking toward him slowly. She was also holding two gift-wrapped boxes. “Hey, you. I thought you were beat.”

“Yeah, well…” She shrugged as she stepped up in front of him. “I, ah, I have a couple of gifts… I would have given them to you earlier, but I wanted to share these privately.” She held up the boxes.

“Lois, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Just sit down and open them,” she ordered.

The look in her eyes told Clark she was worried about how he’d feel about the gifts. Whatever was in the boxes he was sure he’d be thrilled. He took the boxes while he held her gaze, then settled on the edge of the bed. Lois slowly sat down beside him as he took the top off the first box. Inside was a book. Opening it, he found it was a photo album. Inside were pictures of the twins, obviously taken when they were younger. His questioning eyes went up to meet hers.

“Sara was a good person,” she explained. “She knew I’d need those even if I didn’t at the time.”

Clark’s eyes went back to the book. There were a couple of a very pregnant Lois and even a sonogram shot. Other pictures progressed from what was obviously the day they were born up until the age Perry had been when he got her.

“I wish there were pictures of Collin when he was with Lucy. There might be somewhere. I’ll have to ask her.” Lois touched the edge of a page. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. Thank you.”

“I went to the penthouse once,” she told him. “I had these hidden. I was surprised they weren’t found during the searches to find Lex’s dirty secrets.”

Clark remembered that night. She’d been upset, with him, among other things. He’d followed her, watched her from the shadows. He came to the end of the book and closed it. “Thank you,” he told her again when he looked up at her.

“One more,” she pointed out.

“I can’t imagine you giving me anything I like more than the pictures,” he said as he took the top off the other box. He lifted the papers inside and read for a second before his eyes filled with tears. “I was wrong,” he croaked out. The papers were the revised *legal* birth certificates for his twins.

“Perry exists now,” Lois said.

“Perry Ella Kent,” Clark read.

“Collin Jerome Kent,” Lois told him. “You don’t know how hard this has been to keep from you. And I’m sorry I did, but Mayson called me Wednesday. I have a new legal status, too.” Clark lifted his eyes to hers. “I am legally Lois Lane, single, unmarried. The judge ruled that because I was drugged and held against my will, the marriage, to either guise of that madman, was illegal. At least in the states. The authority in Sydney recognized the union, but annulled it on grounds of mental instability of the groom. So, in every country in the world, I’m a legally free woman.” She pointed to the papers. “Which allowed me to do that. I know we were supposed to discuss this with Mayson, but I figured you wouldn’t mind if your children were yours and…” She stopped when Clark leaned over and kissed her.

She’d been off and running and Clark couldn’t think of any other way to stop her. His hand lifted and held her face as he deepened what was meant to be a brief peck. But one touch was not enough and it was much too sweet not to linger a moment.

Lois sighed and lifted her hands to both sides of Clark’s face. He tried to withdraw, but she deepened the kiss even further.

He moved the boxes to the bed so that he could bring his other hand over to her side. That caused her to break the kiss and draw away. Her wide eyes searched his and it broke his heart to see the fear and apprehension behind her dark orbs.

“Lois,” he said softly. “It’s just me. And just a kiss.”

“On a bed,” she said as she stood up. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it slipped out.

“To me it’s just a kiss anywhere,” he insisted as he looked up at her, his expression begging her to understand. “A touch will never be anything you don’t want it to be.”

“And what if I want it to be more? Because I do. I want you to touch me whenever you want to, however you want to. And kiss me- you’re a great kisser. At least I think you’d be a great kisser. The soft, gentle ones have been great.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I want one thing, but I feel something else. Well, I feel that, too, but at the same time…” She stopped and looked away.

Clark reached out and took one of her hands, gently tugging her toward him. “Just a touch,” he said. She moved over to stand in front of him, between his legs. “I want to touch you.” He held her gaze as he moved both hands out to her sides, right above her hips.

In their position, Lois had to look down just a bit. She moved her hands back up to hold his face. They stared at one another for a moment before she leaned forward to kiss him again. It was an undemanding touch and she drew back to look into his eyes again.

“Just a touch,” he repeated. He flexed his hands on her sides, itching to move them down. She felt so good and his blood was starting to boil. But she was scared. He could hear her heart race. She was also determined. Slowly enough for her to adjust to what he was doing, he moved his hands to her hips. When she didn’t try to stop him, he smoothed them further, onto the skin of her thighs below her shorts. She’d recently started wearing the sexiest little sleep shorts. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was deliberately trying to seduce him. Of course, all she had to do was look at him.

Her hands moved down to his neck, then over his shoulders. He was still wearing his muscle tee and the skin she could feel was warm, soft, inviting. Pure desire washed over her and she leaned forward to kiss him again. One touch, two, then she moaned and licked his lips. But before he could react, she pulled back quickly. His eyes were closed and he was breathing a little harder. He liked that, she thought as she watched him. His fingers tightened around her legs, and he sighed. He really liked it. Feeling braver from his reaction, she leaned back in for another kiss. She licked his lips three times, yet he never attempted to open his mouth and force his way into hers. He really does mean what he says, she decided.

She was the one to move her hands back up to his face and turn his head just enough so that he could open his mouth. His lips actually parted more on a sigh than anything and when they did, she probed forward with her tongue. A deep guttural moan escaped Clark’s mouth and his hands moved back up. When they went around to grasp her rear, she shoved away from him. His hands dropped and his eyes opened.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No, I am.” She moved back within his personal space. “Just a touch.”

“Yeah, but I could have found another place…” Her mouth was on his again. She asked for and received permission back into his mouth. Her hands made a searing path from his face to his neck, then his shoulders. She stopped abruptly, but didn’t pull away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not touching me at all now.” She studied his expression, deciding that he was safe. Clark would never hurt her. It was only fair to expect him to want to touch her, even her rear. “Please, Clark.”

Hesitantly he put his hands back on her thighs, moving them to the backs so that he could pull her a bit closer to him. “You feel so good,” he said softly. He stopped when his fingers felt the edge of her shorts at the top of her thighs. Clark’s mind clouded once more when she kissed him again. Getting lost in the movement of her mouth on his, he brought a hand up to cup her cheek so that he could deepen the kiss the way he wanted to. He felt the brief hesitation, then she was pouring everything she had into it. Caught up in the moment, Clark’s hand went back to her body, moving down her side and finally back around to her backside. She drew away from the kiss, but not out of his arms. His eyes bored into hers as he slowly moved both hands over her body, gently squeezing. She leaned her head over and placed it on his while she took several deep breaths to steady herself.

Clark’s hands moved over her gently, warmly. They moved from her rear to her thighs and back again, up to her sides. Steadily moving, steadily building the heat in her body. She kissed him briefly, then leaned back to look at him. “I want to touch you.”

Large hands gripped her hips and Clark shifted them. He was the one standing and she was sitting on the bed. His eyes stared into hers as his fingertips skimmed over her cheek. It took her a moment, but she finally reached out to place her hands on his hips. He stood a bit higher than her, which put his stomach almost right in front of her face. Her eyes flashed to the cloth covering what she knew to be perfectly sculpted abs. As much as she’d like to touch him there, she wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t know if she was feeling bold enough to allow him the same pleasure. Looking back up at him, her hands moved over his hips, down to his thighs. His lips met hers and she allowed her palms to smooth their way to the backs of his legs, up, over his butt. He moaned and she flexed her fingers. He had the best butt she’d ever touched.

Not that she’d touched many or even wanted to, but this one was fantastic. Of course, she knew that already. Had seen it anyway… under cloth. And had been pretty sure it would feel as good as it looked. But it felt better.

And she babbled even in her thoughts. She giggled and Clark leaned back to smile at her.

“What?”

“I babble when I think.” His brows furrowed and she blushed. “I was thinking about how good you feel.” And her hands smoothed over him again. “Very nice,” she told him. Her eyes moved away from his, down, past his waist. And her hands stopped moving. Gulping hard, she stood up. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”

Clark reached out to grasp her sides. “Lois, it’s just a touch. Yes, you affect me, but it’s just a natural reaction. It doesn’t mean I want to do anything more.”

“You don’t?” she asked surprised.

“Well, of course I do. Hell, I think I’ve wanted you from the first time I met you.” He tugged gently when she looked as if she’d run. “That doesn’t mean I expect anything. It doesn’t mean I’m hoping for something more tonight. Yeah, I’d love to, anytime you felt you were ready. But *only* when you’re ready.”

Searching his eyes to make sure he was telling her the truth, she sighed and leaned over to lay her head on his chest. “I will be ready one day.”

“I know.” His hand threaded under her long hair and he gently massaged her neck. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”

“Okay.” She leaned back to look at him and grinned. “You *are* a great kisser.”

“So are you,” he said with a smile and leaned to give her a soft peck.

She drew away and backed toward the door. “Goodnight… Daddy.”

“Goodnight,” he said as she stepped out of the room. A deep sigh to collect himself when she was gone, he knew he wouldn’t get a bit of sleep tonight. He could still feel her hot hands on his body. She had no idea what she did to him. He couldn’t stop the reaction of his body if he tried. He hated that it made her feel uncomfortable.

Hell, he was terribly uncomfortable. He mentally kicked himself and reached down to pick up his gifts. Thank God he had something else to focus on so his body had time to calm. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand and settled in bed. Wow! he thought as he closed his eyes. Soon, he told himself. Soon she would be ready to put her complete trust in him. He just hoped he was up for the task of guarding her trust.

***

Lois woke in a cold sweat, again. She’d done so at least ten times in the last month. Since the night Clark first touched her and she touched him, he was nearly all she thought about.

They’d settled into a familiar routine of caring for the twins, working, and sharing a home together. They went on dates, alone and with the children. They shared dates at home, sitting alone and talking when the twins were sleeping. Family game nights became a popular pastime and so did heated kisses stolen throughout the day. They kissed one another, touched one another- a hand, an arm, shoulders, back, even legs, but they hadn’t shared another night like the one on Father’s Day. And Lois was beginning to itch to do so.

She threw her legs over the side of her bed and headed in the one direction she knew she could find solace. Frowning when she found Clark’s bed empty, she looked toward his bathroom. But the door was open and the lights off. He must have gone out as Superman, she thought as she went downstairs to continue her search. A lot of times he’d grab something to eat after a rescue. Maybe he was in the kitchen. She found him lying on the couch in the den watching a ballgame on the large television they’d finally managed to purchase.

“Hey,” she said when she stepped into the room.

“Hey,” he answered and smiled at her. “What are you doing up?”

“Looking for you.”

He smiled wider. She hadn’t done that in a while and he was missing her horribly. He’d thought briefly a couple of times to go to her the way she did him, but decided against it. There was no way he’d make her uncomfortable if he could help it. It was bad enough his body instantly reacted when he thought about the night they spent touching one another so boldly for the first time. He hadn’t spent so much time alone since he was a teenager. He was ashamed of how he’d begun to handle the unspent tension, but it was preferable to making her feel like he couldn’t control himself.

She walked over and sat down across his thighs. “Can I make a confession?” she asked right away.

“Sounds serious.” He struggled so that he was sitting up a little more against the arm.

“It is serious.” She sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Clark, the night we… well, on Father’s Day- that was a huge step for me.”

“I know.” He reached out to touch her arm.

“And we’ve been touching and kissing regularly ever since. It’s great, heated even. But…” She looked at him, her eyes darkening a bit with desire. “I want to touch you like that again.”

“Lois, you can touch me like that anytime you want to.”

“Clark, you know I’m not gonna walk up to you and say, ‘hey, let’s make out.’”

He chuckled softly as he realized what she meant. He hadn’t tried to touch her like that either. Shifting so that he could sit up, he leaned to kiss her softly. “Never doubt that I want to touch you all the time. But you have to understand that being that close to you… turns me on.”

“And it’s hard,” she said, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It is hard. It’s hard to walk away. Don’t get me wrong. I will. Every time until you’re completely ready for more.”

“I know it’s hard and I know it’s unfair to ask you, but I think I need you to… be with me and walk away, so I’ll know.”

“Know that I’m willing to give and not take?” he asked. When she nodded, he cupped her cheek. He kissed her softly, then moved so that he was kneeling on the floor between her legs. “Do you trust me?” he asked as he reached out tentatively to place his hands on the tops of her thighs.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Then relax. Lay your head back and give yourself to me.”

She stared at him, unsure if she could do that.

“Go on, baby. Relax.” He stretched her arms out and smoothed his hands up both toward her shoulders. Up over her neck, he smiled when she laid her head back. He leaned forward to kiss her neck, then moved his lips down to her shoulder. She was wearing a tank top and her creamy skin begged for attention. “Relax,” he repeated when he felt her tense. His hands moved to her sides just under her armpits, then down, barely skimming her sides. He went across, on to her hips, gently tugging so that she was sitting more on the edge of the cushions. He leaned up when she started to tremble. “Just a touch,” he reminded her. “It’s all just a touch,” he said and smoothed his palms over her thighs, onto the bottom part of her legs. He reached down and touched her foot before making the path back up. When she seemed to melt into the couch, he moved his hands across her stomach. He hesitated briefly before going up further. When she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him, he moved his large hands up, covering her completely.

Before she could say or do anything, Clark leaned forward and kissed her. His hands hadn’t moved, allowing her time to get used to the feel of him there. She was the one who moaned and wrapped her arms around him. He took that as incentive to continue, gently smoothing, giving her time to adjust- to draw away if she needed to. His mouth tore away from hers and he kissed down her neck again.

“You feel so good,” he breathed. One of his hands went around her side, down her back, and in his excitement, he pulled her a bit closer. The movement brought her body up against his, causing him to moan.

Lois abruptly stopped kissing him and shoved him backwards. Clark’s eyes focused on her instantly, watching her breathe heavily.

“Not tonight,” he told her and reached out for her gently. “Don’t push me away. I’m Clark. You know me.” His hands ran down her arms, then back up to grasp her face. “I would never ever hurt you. Yes, my body responded. Yes, you felt good pressed against me. And yes, we can stop, but if we do, I’m going to hold you.” He kissed her softly, then drew back to look at her. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” She eased up on the edge of the couch and pulled him back to her again.

Clark continued to stare at her while he moved his hands back to her hips, over her thighs, and back again. He gently kneaded, his fingers probed. He smiled when she sighed and dropped her head back in pleasure. He kissed her neck, eased her back against the cushions again. His lips moved down further.

“Oh,” she breathed in surprise. Her eyes flew open and she reached out to grasp Clark’s head. She didn’t stop him though, just watched him kiss her over and over. So intent on what his mouth was doing, she didn’t realize his fingers moved again.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “Just a touch,” he whispered and pushed his hands further under her body. “You have a nice butt, too,” he told her with a smile. But she didn’t smile back. She was breathing heavily and she’d started to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” She shook her head with determination. Clark’s smile faded as he leaned back over to kiss her.

Suddenly Lois pushed him back and sat up. Her posture changed, the determination clearly evident. Her lips went back to his, causing him to moan when her tongue forced its way into his mouth.

Her movements grew bolder, more insistent. As she sat up and wrapped herself around him, he realized something was wrong. He tore his mouth away from hers and rested his head against hers. “Lois,” he said softly to get her attention. Gently, he pulled her arms out from around his neck. When her questioning eyes opened and stared at him, he brought her hands up to kiss her knuckles. “You said you trust me.”

“I do. But why did you stop?”

“Because you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

“What?”

“Just now. Something changed.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I do, but not because you feel like you’ve got to do it or just to get it over with. I want you to want me because you want *me*. I want you to want me because you want to make me feel good, because you want me to make you feel good.”

Lois sagged back against the cushion, moving her arms to cover herself. She felt exposed now, embarrassed, after being so open with him.

Clark reached out to grasp her hands. “We can’t make love completely until you learn to be comfortable with me. I want you too much to rush this.” He watched as he trailed his fingers across her neck, her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her as he leaned to kiss her.

“I’m…”

“Perfect,” he countered between kisses.

“Yes,” she told him. She liked his kisses, his touches, even if she was back to trembling. Her eyes flew open when he gripped the edges of her shirt.

“Tell me yes,” he whispered, hovering just above her, his eyes boring into hers. He wanted to see her completely.

“Yes,” she responded automatically. Unable to touch him, she gripped the cushions on the couch as he removed the material.

When she was uncovered, Clark could only stare. “Perfect,” he repeated in a whisper. She’d closed her eyes, but the trust she had shown by allowing him to see her blew him away. His eyes moved down her body and that was when he stopped. He moved to the side to allow the light from the TV to shine on her. “Lois, is this…?”

“Teeth marks,” she replied, sighing heavily as she stared up at the ceiling. She’d been hoping the dim light was enough to hide the scar. But of course, Superman could see clearly in the dark.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, smoothing his fingers over the light mark. “Are you sure you’re… okay now?”

She lifted her head to look at him. “What?”

“He didn’t cause any permanent damage, did he?”

Paul had pronounced her healthy, but what if she wasn’t? She hadn’t felt like she was unwell in any way. “Maybe I should get a good check-up… by a doctor that’s not a quack.”

Clark smiled at her. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” she said and brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “And just so you know, I have a couple of other scars. I’m pretty sure there’s teeth prints on my butt…”

“On your…?” She nodded and he glanced down. “You’re kidding?”

“No. Thankfully he didn’t like… other kinds of… sex things,” she said and turned her head in embarrassment. “I could imagine that would have hurt like hell.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed automatically, glancing down without really meaning to. He’d rather look to make sure, but…

“I have scratch marks down my back,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “He liked to hear me beg him to stop.”

“Damn,” Clark breathed. He leaned over to kiss her, just to reassure her he cared that she’d suffered. “Just so you know, I’m not that kinky,” he joked, hoping to make her smile.

She not only smiled, she laughed softly. “I don’t know, Clark, begging might be fun with the right person.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

He grunted and kissed her neck. “It might be,” he said as his body registered the heat from hers. “This is too close,” he said, but didn’t pull away.

“I want you closer.” His head came up so he could look at her. “Touch me, Clark,” she whispered.

His eyes searched hers, trying to find any hesitation, any doubt, any indecision. He saw trepidation, but the determination and desire clouded it over heavily. Moving her to lie down, he leaned to kiss her while he continued to touch her, love her the only way he could.

And God, how he loved her. He felt so strongly right then. He leaned up to gaze at her, but she turned her head.

“Don’t look at me,” she told him.

He remembered her saying Luthor liked to watch her. He leaned over and kissed her neck, sucked her earlobe into his mouth, and delved his tongue into the cavity. “You feel so good, Lois.”

“You… what you’re doing…” She completely released herself to him for a brief time, allowing him to touch her, kiss her, love her… It was so unfair to them both, but it was all she could offer right now. Was it enough?

Clark drew away from their kisses a few moments later and turned around to drop on the floor. He was the one shaking now, from the incredible tension in his powerful body. Lois rolled onto her side and wrapped an arm around his chest as she leaned up to kiss his neck.

“Clark,” she breathed.

His hand came up to grasp her arm, and he turned his head enough to kiss her. “I love you,” he told her when he broke the kiss. It was time she knew that, time he admitted it out loud.

That stopped her probing lips. Her eyes opened and she stared at him. “I, ah, I… What?” She knew he cared for her, knew he was attracted, but this was more than she imagined.

And it was too much to hope for. Did he mean it? Could he love her? With all of her faults? All of her insecurities?

Clark shifted just enough so he could see her. “I love you, Lois,” he told her again. “You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to know.”

She studied his expression for a second, clearly seeing the depths of his feelings behind his dark eyes. He meant every word. Her hand came up to cup his cheek as tears filled her eyes. “I love you, too, Clark,” she whispered.

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“I think I’ve loved you my whole life.” She couldn’t believe he’d doubt her feelings.

She couldn’t believe her feelings. Never had she felt things like this for a man. This man had become part of her very being and the only way to describe it was love.

Clark smiled and kissed her again. “And because I love you, I’m going to help you put your shirt back on.” He shifted onto his knees and helped her sit up. When the material fell back around her, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I knew men could be different, but…” She turned her head and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he returned and squeezed gently. They drew apart and he held her hand as they made their way upstairs. He kissed her softly at her door and closed himself off in his bathroom. She’d given him a very special gift tonight, and while it was worth every second, his body was so tense he felt like he was going to explode. Touching her, seeing her, feeling her- it had worked him up to nearly explosive levels. He decided that when she finally trusted him enough to completely give herself over to him, it would be worth every second, every bit of tension and frustration, and every second he’d spent alone lately.

And just thinking about that day was enough to get his blood boiling again. He had to take a deep breath and shake his head to clear it. He was almost grateful when his hearing picked up a call for help.

***

The first rays of sunshine came through her window the next morning and prodded her to wake up. Lois stretched, long and slow, uncoiling the tension in her muscles as she did. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Clark standing in her doorway watching her.

“Hey,” she told him softly.

“Hey,” he replied. He walked over and sat down, carefully placed his hands on either side of her, then leaned to kiss her. “Good morning,” he said when he leaned up.

“Good morning.”

“Let’s pack up the kids and take a trip,” he said suddenly.

“Where to?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere, anywhere.”

“We could… go to the beach,” she suggested.

“I know this place down the coast where you can rent a cabin right on the ocean,” he replied. “Or we can stay at the resort in Folly. It has its own water park.”

“The kids would love it.” She struggled to sit up, gratefully taking his hand so he could help her. “Can you get away?”

“Already called Perry… just in case. He said we’ve been plugging away pretty hard, so…” He pushed her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss her there. “Want to go? We can stay as long as three days.”

“Will we… have to share a room?”

His eyes went to hers. “Only if you want to. And only to sleep. I don’t expect a thing other than a beautiful smile or two.”

She kissed him soundly. “Let’s go.”

His lips spread into a smile and he kissed her again, moaning when she allowed him to deepen the touch. He drew back and stood up. “I’ll pack up the twins while you get ready. We’ll stop for breakfast.”

She was left to watch him walk away- a sight she certainly appreciated. The view from this side was incredible. An hour later, they’d grabbed a couple of bags, said good-bye to Clark’s parents, and set off for a bit of fun. They spent the next three days at a full service resort in a beach community a short drive from Metropolis. They spent the days on the beach, in the water park, or exploring the town. They shopped, ate wonderful food, and laughed more than they had in a while. They chose a room with a king-sized bed and tucked their twins in between them at night. Though they held hands constantly, touched frequently, and kissed often, they wisely kept everything else modestly tame. It was as if they’d made an unspoken agreement to share this time together as a family.

They went home with their first set of professional pictures, having had them taken at the resort. The sitting had been in the pool area on the bottom floor and the photographs turned out to be remarkable. They had tons of snapshots as well. It had been a wonderful trip, giving them much-needed time together.

***

Work set in with a vengeance upon their return. Lois ventured into the Planet three days a week, just to get her feet wet, she’d said. The other days she stayed home with the twins and wrote about the things that happened to her. Clark, however, was running himself ragged. The Planet called early every day and Superman called late every night. Things at home were a struggle to keep a grip on. He and Lois fought a lot, over work and more personal things. One week faded into two until they both snapped. He had flown from one rescue to another and hadn’t made it home in two days. When he finally walked in the door, Lois was sitting on the couch in the den staring at the television.

“I almost called the cops,” she said as she glanced up at him. “I thought someone was breaking in.”

“Lois, please don’t start tonight.” He walked through the den toward the hallway. He was beat. Too beat to spar with her tonight. They’d done enough fighting the last couple of weeks.

“When am I supposed to start?” she asked him. “You’re never home long enough for me to look at you let alone say anything to you.”

He turned and let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Go to hell,” she spat at him and shot to her feet.

“Very mature, Lois,” he said and followed her into the kitchen.

“Mature?” she asked as she turned around to gawk at him. “You don’t even know what that word means! You, in all your mature, *super* glory, fly in and out of here, barely stopping long enough to even know what your kids look like anymore.”

“I know what my kids look like!”

“Oh, yeah. I bet you have no idea.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you even check your messages today?”

He looked away, putting his hands on his hips while he waited for the next round of her barking. And that was what it seemed like today. He’d seen too many people die today to placate her.

“Well, Mr. ‘I’m so on top of things it doesn’t matter if anyone needed me’, go upstairs and take a look at your son.”

“What?”

“Go look at your son!” she ordered and pointed in that direction. When he didn’t move, she stomped over to the switch on the wall and slammed her hand on it to cut it off. “Fine. But don’t get your sorry ass up and look at him tomorrow.” She stormed out and up the stairs. The house shook when she slammed her bedroom door.

Clark heaved a frustrated sigh and walked over to click off the TV, cut the rest of the lights, and head upstairs. He wasn’t even going to check to see if there was dinner for him. He’d seen the take-out packages. Besides, he was much too wound up to eat. He just wanted a hot bath and to fall in bed. He paused at the top of the stairs and glanced at the room the twins slept in. Deciding to see what Lois thought was so damn important, he walked over and peered inside. Gasping in shock by what he saw, he rushed over to kneel beside Collin’s bed. His small left arm was bound in a brace and lying on a mound of pillows. His little fingers were blue and swollen, his knuckles scraped badly.

Not wanting to touch him for fear he’d hurt him, Clark jumped up and hurried into Lois’ room so he could find out what was wrong. He didn’t bother to knock and she looked up in surprise on her way out of the bathroom. “What the hell happened to him?”

“He fell off his bike.” She grinned sadly. “He was so excited. He called you six times to tell you he’d learned how to ride without his training wheels.” Her smile faded and she reached out to pull the covers down on her bed. “He swerved to keep from hitting Perry and over corrected. I heard it crack from twenty feet away.”

Clark felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He snatched his phone from the case on his side. Thirteen messages. They’d called him so many times.

“Don’t even think about smashing that phone before you listen to that kid’s messages. I want you to hear how he felt.” She climbed into her bed and pulled the cover over her lap because she’d remained sitting. “Perry was more upset than Collin because she just knew it was all her fault.”

Large tears filled Clark’s eyes and he looked away. Hadn’t he learned his lesson before about leaving his family hanging?

A soft cry from the other room pulled him from the impending self-pity trip and he hurried in. Collin was whining, trying to move his arm.

“Hey, big guy,” Clark said softly as he kneeled beside the bed. “Don’t move your arm.”

“It hurts,” the boy cried.

“I know, son. Maybe we can give you something to help with the pain.” He looked up when Lois held out her hand. He took the two small pills she was holding.

“I go potty,” Collin said as he struggled to get up.

“Here…” Clark placed the pills on the nightstand and reached down to lift the boy up. “Daddy’ll help you.” He carried him down the hall to the bathroom and brought him back when he was done. Once he had him settled, he propped his arm back up and helped him take the pain medicine. “Should he take so much?” he asked Lois, who was still standing by the bed.

“One was not enough. I guess he’s his father’s son.”

“I called you,” Collin said as he looked up at Clark with pain filled eyes.

“I know. I was busy and couldn’t answer.”

“You not call back,” Collin said as large tears spilled from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Clark said, crying himself. He lifted his hand and smoothed Collin’s hair off his head. “I should have called.”

“I ride by myself,” came the tired voice.

“I know. Mommy told me.” Clark leaned to kiss his head. “I’m really proud of you,” he said softly.

“Don’t cry, Daddy. I okay.”

Clark smiled through his tears. “I love you, Collin.”

“I lub you, Daddy.” He smiled and closed his eyes.

Clark continued to rub his head until he was back asleep. He gently kissed his swollen hand and stood up. Lois had left them alone and he stopped in the hallway to listen to his messages. Collin’s excited voice talked so fast he barely understood that he’d told him he could ride his bike with no training wheels. Another excited message. By the third one, he wasn’t as excited. One simply asked, ‘where are you?’ The last two sounded as if the little guy’s heart was broken. One from Lois telling him to call. Another blessing him out. Then a frantic call-

‘Clark, where the hell are you? We’re on the way to the emergency room.’ She sobbed. ‘Collin broke his arm’.

One from his mother. One from his father. There was one from Jack. He’d never heard so many colorful words from the young man. The last one was from Jimmy. He sounded disappointed more than anything.

Clark closed his phone and leaned his head back against the wall, guilt and regret washing over him. How could he have done this to them again? Hadn’t he learned his lesson from the first time? He lived with them now. How could he? Yes, his job at the Planet was important. Yes, being Superman meant a lot to him. But nothing meant as much as the people in this house. He opened his phone and called his mother’s phone. It was off at this time of night, but he left a very apologetic message to her and his father. He left similar messages for Jack and Jimmy before he looked in on the twins once more, then headed toward Lois’ room. The light was still on and this time she’d left the door ajar. She was sitting in the middle of her bed working on her laptop. He didn’t say word until after he’d sat down on the bed.

“How did you get him to the ER?”

“Ambulance. Alice brought your folks and Perry to the hospital and Jimmy came to bring us home.” She didn’t look up at him, just kept working.

“Will you go with me tomorrow to pick out another car?”

“It’s being delivered in the morning.”

He just nodded. Leave it to Lois to have taken care of that on her own. They should have bought a second car long ago. Most days he left the Jeep for them, but for some reason he’d taken it two days ago when he left for work.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Still typing.

“I should have learned from when I made the mistake the first time about my incessant need to help.”

“Yeah, and you’d been doing so good. How do you spell…? Never mind. Got it.”

“I know the only way I can make this up to any of you is to show you how I feel.”

“Uh huh,” she replied and kept typing.

He sighed when he realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “I really am sorry,” he said softly and stood up. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed toward his room. He felt so bad he thought he was going to break down right there in front of Lois.

Lois looked up as he disappeared into the hallway. Poor guy did sound horrible. Maybe she could have been a bit more compassionate.

Why? He wasn’t compassionate this afternoon. He wasn’t anything. She’d needed him, needed his strength. She’d been so sure she was going to break down before she could help Collin.

Glancing toward the hallway, she shifted and dropped her feet on the floor. Damn him, she cursed as she walked toward his room. He was hurting and she couldn’t stop herself from going to him. It didn’t matter that his pain was his own doing, she needed to see him, hold him. His bedroom door was open, but the bathroom door was closed. She could hear the shower running and when she stepped over to the door, she heard Clark crying. He’d never done that, never even hinted he could. Sure, she’d seen tears in his eyes, but this was raw, biting pain. She wanted to go hold him now desperately. The door was locked though, an obvious indication he wanted to be alone.

Clark finally pulled himself together and decided that feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to repair his fractured relationship with his family. He finished his shower, pulled on his underwear, dried his hair with a towel, and headed in to bed. He didn’t even know Lois was in his bed until she reached out to touch his back after he sat down. His head snapped around and their eyes met.

“I still love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, even if I haven’t showed it very much lately.” Clark swung his legs around and laid down on his side to look at her across the darkened space between them.

“Will you let me hold you tonight?”

He blinked. “After all I’ve done to hurt you?”

“Love is love,” she told him, something she’d heard from Martha earlier that day. She’d broken down when they got home, so upset from Collin getting hurt while in her care. Through her sobs, she’d wondered why any of them would want her around. The older woman had smiled and said, ‘Love is love.’ She also said, “‘You can’t stop it just because you’re hurt or angry either’”. Smart woman, Lois had thought. Very smart woman. No matter what Clark had done, she loved him desperately and in doing so that meant she needed to support him the same way he’d done her countless times over the last few months.

Clark moved over until his head was lying on her shoulder. She held him the way he did her, smoothing one hand over the arm that was thrown across her stomach. “I don’t deserve any of this,” Clark said after a long while.

“You deserve to be happy, just like everyone else. I think sometimes you stay away because you think if you mess up bad enough, you’ll start to believe you don’t deserve us. Then if you were to lose us, you wouldn’t be so disappointed.”

“Do you feel like that?”

“All the time at first. But then… Clark, I’m so in love with you, there’s no way I could lose you. We might fight. We will disagree. But I don’t want to ever be apart from you.”

“I don’t want to be apart from you either,” he said. “And I’m going to make a change. I’m not alone and it’s time for me to treat you guys like I should.”

“Then you think we can go out again?” she wanted to know.

He laughed softly, tightening his hold on her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Will you stay home tomorrow and help me with Collin?”

“Absolutely. You can go to the Planet if you want to.”

“Nah. I want to stick close to my little man.”

“Okay.” Clark closed his eyes and before long, the stress and frustration caught up with him.

He and Lois slept in a tangled web of arms and legs, restless and anxious. But they woke up with a clearer understanding the next morning.

***

Collin sat on the porch steps staring at his bike. Every now and then his little finger went over to his other arm to scratch as best he could. His cast itched him. He couldn’t wait to get it off.

“Hey, big guy, whatcha’ doing?” Clark asked as he sat down beside his son. It had been six weeks since Collin had broken his arm. Clark was taking him in today to get the cast off.

“I wookin at my bike.” He’d been riding it with his broken arm for three weeks now. He loved his bike.

“Ready to show off without that cast?”

“Tink I could have a new one for my birstday?”

“A new one?”

“Uh huh? I big boy one?”

Collin had seen a bike in a catalog that first week after breaking his arm. The sleek, black racer had been all he’d talked about since then. It came without training wheels. Lois had declared it huge, even though it was still small enough for their boy. “Maybe,” Clark said as he rubbed the boy’s back.

“Daddy, will you work all da time affer my cass off?”

“No, son. I work four days now. No questions.” He’d worked that out with Perry the first week after the accident. He needed to be home with his kids more and the only way to do that was to work less. He really didn’t need the money anyway, but liked being a journalist. Perry understood his need for his family was greater than his desire to have a career. Besides, Clark did more work in four days than most men did in two weeks. Lois helped him out, too, so the Planet hadn’t lost.

“How ‘bout Superman?”

“Well, he’s grounded unless it’s something really big. No more going two days without taking a break or coming home.”

“Pomise?”

Clark ran his hand over the side his son’s head. “Promise. You ready to go get that thing off?”

“Uh huh.” Collin stood up and ran inside. He came back out, followed by Lois and Perry. They were dressed and ready to go.

“I thought you two were staying here?” Clark wanted to know.

“Perry wants to see for herself that Collin is okay.” Lois rubbed the top of the little girl’s head.

“Then let’s go,” Clark said as he bent to pick his daughter up. “He’s okay,” he told the girl again for the thousandth time.

“Okay.”

Clark buckled her into her seat in Lois’ new SUV. She’d chosen a monster of a vehicle- a Tahoe, one of the larger ones. It comfortably seated eight, large enough for them all to go places together, Lois had explained when it was delivered. They had actually looked at the Tahoe, moving it to their short list. Hers was black with an appropriate amount of chrome. Jack said she looked like she worked for the Secret Service. Clark was just thrilled she had a car at home all the time now.

“When are you gonna let me drive?” he asked as he buckled himself into the passenger’s seat.

“When are you gonna let me wear your cape?”

Clark leaned over on the console so he could grin at her. “That can be arranged tonight,” he said softly, waggling his brows at her.

Lois snorted at him. He was relentless. Since Collin broke his arm, they’d reached a new level of understanding. He was home now when he should be. When he was working, he called at least three times a day, even when she was working, too. He cooked on his days off, made sure his parents had ample time alone, and told her as often as he could he loved her, which was about every other minute. They also touched more, held hands sitting on the couch, and talked about everything. Weekly date nights were a religion, ranging from elegant dinners to baseball games. There was also one day of the week that was spent with the twins- swimming, having tea parties, going to the carnival, and just about anything else you could think of. Clark had groveled to his friends and spent as much time as he could with them as well. Cook-outs were a favorite weekend event. He’d reverted back to wonderfully attentive and completely irresistible.

Irresistible on all levels. He positively exuded sexuality. Though they hadn’t shared another night like the one in the den, they did have pretty heavy make-out sessions. He wasn’t shy about touching her either, often patting her on her rear or fondling her breasts when they kissed. She wasn’t quite as bold about touching him, but didn’t protest when he did either. And his incredible restraint had impressed her to no end. It had earned him immense trust in her eyes. It had also made him nearly impossible to resist. Lois had decided on more than one occasion that it was time to cross that final threshold, only to chicken out halfway to his room. She didn’t mind a bit sleeping in his arms, and her body begged him to lavish more attention on it. But she also accepted his need to hold back. Poor Clark spent more time showering lately, and it wasn’t because of his need to get clean. She wanted to give him what he needed, but her mind just wasn’t as cooperative as her body.

“You’d really look good in it,” Clark whispered. “Of course, you’d look good out of it, too.”

“Clark,” she said and cut her eyes toward the back.

“Relax. They’re watching cartoons.” Lois’ truck also had a television in it, to keep the twins occupied when they went somewhere. It was invaluable when traffic was backed up.

She glanced at him. He had that look on his face- the one that told her he was more than ready to become lovers. And right now, so was she. “Tell you what… you sit over there and be a good boy, and I’ll think about trying it on for you soon.”

“Mmm, the images that creates…” He sat back and sighed dreamily. He’d give anything to see her in his cape. Nothing but his cape.

A little while later, Collin was making a face as he stared down at his pale arm. “It tinks!”

“We’ll take care of that,” said the nurse and brought over a pan of soapy water to carefully wash his arm.

“See, Perry,” Lois told her. “His arm is just fine.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” she asked Collin.

“Nope.” He moved it to prove his point. The break hadn’t been very bad, so he’d only had a cast up to his elbow. “I ready to ride my bike!”

“Isn’t that how you broke your arm?” the nurse asked.

“He hasn’t slowed down a bit,” Clark informed her.

“Good. Take care of this arm,” she told Collin as she dried it.

“I will.”

They walked out a few moments later, the twins admiring their stickers. Clark reached over to grasp Lois’ hand as they made their way to the car. She looked up at him and smiled. Talk revolved around the birthday party coming up in a few days. Dinner was eaten out by the pool that evening to allow Collin to swim without his cast sleeve on. He also rode his bike.

***

Turning three years old was a huge event at the Kent home on Saturday afternoon. The backyard was packed with all of their friends. Clark reluctantly allowed Dan to be grill meister so he could spend the extra time with the twins. Dan and Mayson had finally moved in next door as well.

Right before it was time to sit down to eat, a new guest arrived.

“Lana!” Martha greeted the young woman who walked around the house.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” the younger woman said as she hugged Martha.

“Nonsense. You were invited.” By Martha herself. She hadn’t consulted Clark, but was sure he wouldn’t mind. Taking the gifts Lana held, Martha steered her toward the crowd.

“Lana!” Clark stopped his game of hopscotch with Perry when he saw the woman with his mom. He hadn’t seen her since that night in his apartment a few months ago. She’d been called back to work for EPRAD on a top-secret project. He’d spoken with her on the phone, but he always enjoyed seeing her. He walked over and gave her a warm hug. “How are you?”

“Good. You look great. And the house…” She glanced up at it. “Look at Perry… She’s so big.”

“Collin’s in the pool with Jack and Denny.”

“Wow!” she commented when she saw him. “He can swim!”

“Lois taught him.”

She glanced around Clark to see the woman he’d mentioned sitting by the pool talking with Mayson. “Hi.” She waved at her.

“Hi, Lana. Come have a drink,” Lois said cheerfully, even if she really didn’t feel cheery. Lana was a reminder of the past. Lois knew she wasn’t to blame for her father’s mistakes, but still…

“Be nice,” Mayson whispered.

“I will.” She cut her eyes at Mayson and they laughed.

The blond-haired woman sat up so that she was closer to Lois. “Why is it I don’t bother you, but she does?”

“She doesn’t… not for that reason. I see Lana, I think Paul. And we all know what Paul did.” She shrugged and took a drink of her beer.

Lana and Clark talked for a moment before she glanced at Lois again. “She doesn’t like me, does she?”

“She doesn’t like your father,” Clark told her honestly.

“Neither do I,” she admitted.

“Come meet everyone.” Clark wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her over to introduce her to Jack, Jimmy, and Dan. Lana talked briefly with little Perry and Collin before settling at the table to talk with Jonathan. After a few moments, Dan announced it was time to eat. Clark was surprised when Lois sat next to Lana.

Dinner was a laughable, conversational affair. Presents were a hit, especially the new bike and the dollhouse.

“Clark, you did a wonderful job,” Lois said of the dollhouse. She couldn’t believe the detail he’d put into the house and the furniture. He hadn’t let her see it before today, working on it nearly every night for the past two weeks.

“It’s gorgeous,” raved his mother. She’d made tiny curtains to Clark’s specifications and even cushions for the furniture, but he hadn’t let anyone see it until now. All of the adults were gathered around the table it was sitting on, in awe of the toy.

“I wike it, too, Daddy,” Collin spoke up.

“Well, it just so happens…” Clark moved over to the other end of the table and uncovered another creation- a farm.

“Oh wow!” the boy yelled and jumped up and down.

“Oh, Clark,” Lois gushed as she got a look at the other toy. It looked just like the Kent farm in Kansas, complete with barn, tractor, and animals. Again the adults all raved over his work.

“Think you could make a Daily Planet?” Perry asked as he bent to peek through the window of the farmhouse.

Clark chuckled as he watched his family study his woodwork.

“Daddy?” Perry asked as she tugged his shorts. “Do I get a new bike, too?”

She was hoisted into the air as he smiled at her. “Do you really want a new bike?”

She seemed to think about that for a minute. “Not really. I’d rather have a new doll.”

“You mean one that might fit in this box?” Lois asked her as she held up a gift-wrapped box.

Perry jumped up and down after Clark set her on her feet, then she opened the doll that was nearly as big as she was. There was also a brush so the little girl could spend hours playing with the baby’s hair.

“Her’s purdy,” Collin told her as his fingers touched the new doll.

“Her name is Wois,” Perry informed him.

“Hi, Wois,” he said to the doll. “Want to go for a ride?” he asked Perry.

“Yes, please.” She tucked her new doll under her arm and held Collin’s hand as he led her to the wagon. When he was sure she and Wois were safely settled, he grabbed the handle and pulled them down the driveway.

“Don’t go past the Elm tree,” Lois called. “You need to fence in the driveway,” Lois told Clark and smacked his chest, hard.

“Ow!” he said.

“Come on, CK, you didn’t…” Jack stopped and stared at him. More precisely, his chest. “How did she do that?” Clark’s chest had a bright red spot where Lois had hit him.

Clark rubbed the spot and shrugged. “She can get into my aura,” Clark informed him. “Actually, she seems to be in it all the time.”

“Kinda’ like crawling under your skin? Your super skin?”

“She doesn’t crawl,” Clark told him. “She jumps in with both feet.”

“I heard that,” she called across the patio from where she’d gone to check on the twins.

“I think she has super powers, too,” Jimmy said.

“Oh, she does,” Clark let him know.

Lois cut her eyes back at him, a wide grin on her face. Maybe she’d see just how far she could get under that super skin later.

***

Lana was the last guest to leave, just after dark. She and Clark were standing on the patio talking when Lois came out of the house.

“Thank you, for not asking me to leave,” Lana told Lois.

“I’ll admit that I’d thought about declaring you an enemy by default, but you can’t be held responsible for your father’s actions.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I know, too, that you mean a lot to Clark.” Lois smiled up at him, then moved closer to his side to wrap her arm around him, his automatically coming up to hold her. “So, I guess you mean a lot to me.”

Lana’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow! Really?” Her eyes flashed from one to the other.

“We’re not living in sin or anything,” Clark joked, but grunted when Lois elbowed him.

“We are… creating something wonderful,” Lois corrected him.

“I like the sound of that… something wonderful. You certainly deserve it,” she told Lois.

“Thank you.” Lois accepted the hug the other woman offered, then looked up at Clark. “I’ll read the story tonight.”

He nodded and she went inside. “I’m glad you came,” he told Lana.

“Me, too.” She stepped forward and hugged Clark. “Take care of those babies,” she said when she pulled away.

“I will. And call soon.”

“I will.” She turned and hurried down the driveway.

Clark made sure everything was cleaned up from the party and carefully transported the new dollhouse and farmhouse into the extra room upstairs. He and Lois had decided that the top floor was too far away for a playroom. So the extra bedroom was used as a guestroom and playroom, for now. When the house was secure, he took a quick shower. Toweling his hair as he exited the bathroom, he stopped and nearly passed out when his eyes fell on his bed. There, wrapped in his cape, was Lois. The towel he held slipped through his fingers to the floor as he stood in disbelief.

“What’s-a-matter, Clark?” she asked in a whiny voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“A minx has my cape,” he managed as he closed the distance to the bed and sat down, facing her. “You gonna let me see what’s under this?” he asked and lifted an edge of the material.

“Nothing,” she replied.

He swallowed hard. “Nothing?”

“Not one thing… except me.”

He stared at her, his body beginning to hum. “Are you…?” His eyes flashed down over the red cover. “Oh, God, I’m not sure I have that much patience,” he whispered when his eyes met hers again.

“You don’t need it,” she told him softly.

His brows crawled upward. “What?”

Lois lifted her arm to rub his bare chest. “I think it’s time to see if you feel as good as you look.”

Clark laid his head back and took a deep breath. He was more than ready to see if she felt as good as she looked. But he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do. He took a deep breath and looked back down at her. His hand went up to cup her face. “Are you sure?”

“Clark, if we don’t soon do something, I might blow up, too.”

He gave a little snort. “I do that daily,” he mumbled as he rolled over and stretched out beside her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what? Lois, I’ve been right where I want to be.” He was propped up on an elbow and he leaned over to kiss her softly. “Well, maybe not exactly where I want to be,” he said huskily as he stared down at her.

“Is it okay that we leave the lights off?”

“I have super eyes,” he reminded her as he lifted the cape lapped across her chest. He could see naked skin underneath and he smiled. “May I?” he asked, holding the material.

“Please,” she replied.

He slowly pulled the red cover back and exposed the left side of her chest. She was the one to move the other side down. Clark’s mouth covered hers as he slowly became acquainted with Lois more intimately. She moaned and deepened the kiss, causing him to melt further into their encounter. His lips moved from her mouth, down her neck, around to nibble on her ears.

Before she knew what was happening, his mouth was driving her wild. Though her body was tense and was trembling, she gave back as good as she got. When he became caught up in the moment and allowed his body to react, she became rigid, unresponsive.

Clark lifted his head to look at her. “I have to respond. It feels too good not to.”

“I know,” she said shakily. Her hand reached out to smooth over his chest, trying to give back some of the thrill he’d been giving her.

“Damn,” Clark uttered as his eyes closed. Just the feel of her hot hand on his skin made him dizzy with desire. His own hand began to move, down to her stomach. She really was naked, he thought as his fingers made contact with even more skin. Opening his eyes again, he moved his gaze down, watching as he uncovered her completely. “Damn!” he said again.

“I’m way too small, aren’t I?” she asked, a blush creeping over her face to be exposed to him fully.

“You’re small, but you’re gorgeous,” he told her and leaned to kiss her again. His hand continued its journey, trying to touch her everywhere. He’d waited on this for so long; she felt incredible. “So nice,” he breathed. And nearly enough to make him delirious with pleasure. His entire body felt like it was on fire. He pulled away and rolled onto his back, heaving to catch his breath and give himself a bit of a reprieve.

Lois leaned over to look down at him. “Too much?”

“Way too much?” he whispered, refusing to open his eyes. “And not nearly enough,” he went on when he was able to look at her.

Her lips came down on his, her hand moving over his arm, across his stomach. She moved her head up so she could look at him while her palm soaked in the feel of his silky skin. The air hissed through Clark’s teeth as his right hand gripped the sheets. She hesitated momentarily, having never touched him quite so intimately. She’d seen him in nothing but his underwear, but touching was completely different.

And completely scary.

Completely exciting.

Was every part of this man perfectly sculpted? Suddenly she wanted to see him. She rolled over to flip the lamp on. His eyes were studying her as she turned back to him.

“Take these off,” she said softly, tugging his briefs.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She moved back enough for him to strip. She noticed that he was trembling nearly as much as she was. Slowly and deliberately she ran her eyes over his body. “Clark,” she breathed. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said and reached over to grasp her face while he kissed her. When she moved closer, he drew her back to look at her. “Baby, you’re shaking.”

“Yeah,” was all she said as she kissed his neck.

“Maybe we should stop,” he said when her shaking increased.

“Uh uh,” she said as she bit her bottom lip.

“We should at least stop long enough for me to take precautions.” He grinned at her, but sucked in a deep breath as her lips touched his skin again.

She nibbled near his ear before looking at him. “I saw a doctor a while back, in case this moment came earlier rather than later. And just so you know, she ran every test known to man. I’m perfectly healthy. Too thin, but all of my organs are working fine. No permanent damage. I can even still have children, hence my need to take the pill.”

He smoothed a hand over her back to sooth her a bit. Her trembling was driving him wild. “I can still wear a condom if you want me to.” When her brows furrowed, he shrugged. “I thought maybe you’d feel better if I kept certain things to myself. You know, the whole… invasion thing. And damn, that came out wrong.”

Lois kissed him quiet. “That’s thoughtful, but really, Clark, I need you.”

“Then why are you shaking so much?”

“I’m scared. The last time I was this close to a man…”

His finger covered her lips. “Not tonight, baby. I wish I could just lay here and let you do this so you’ll be comfortable, but I *have* to touch you.” And he moved his hands down her back, over her hips.

“Can you stay on your back?”

“Oh yeah,” he said with a grin.

“Clark,” she whined and leaned forward to kiss his neck. “Hold me.” His arms wrapped around her back and he held her close, allowing her the time she needed to become comfortable with him.

“Oh, God, Lois,” he breathed. Just having her lie in his arms was threatening to dissolve his control

“What would you do if this is all I wanted to do?”

“I’d soon be asleep. Because you are driving me to the edge of my limits in a hurry.” His hands smoothed down her back again, relishing in the fact that she’d placed so much trust in him.

Suddenly she wasn’t content being still any longer, causing the breath to hiss from Clark’s body again.

“You okay?” he managed to ask her after a moment.

She nodded determinedly, even as the first tears slipped from her eyes. A sob escaped her lips and he grasped her sides.

“Stop, baby.”

“No!”

She was determined to do this, to face her demons and there was no way he’d stop her. Clark wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she struggled through her fear. His hands moved up so that he could hold her face and he kissed her, softly at first, then more insistently. He was gentle and deliberate, distracting her from her apprehension. Slowly it worked. She began to kiss him back. He nearly shouted when she seemed to get lost in their haze.

Gorgeous, glowing, and amazing. That was all he could think as he looked at this woman. She’d been through so much, overcome so many demons. And she loved him… both emotionally and physically.

But there was no afterglow. She rolled to her opposite side, held herself drawn up in a ball, and began to softly cry again.

“Ah, baby, don’t,” Clark told her as he rolled over and held her. His hand smoothed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” She turned to look at him. “Clark, that was fantastic.”

“Better than fantastic,” he said with a smile. “You are amazing.”

“I don’t mean to cry,” she said as more tears slipped from her eyes.

“Hush, baby. I understand.” His fingers skimmed her cheek and he kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She managed to smile, feeling better by the second. Clark was slowly replacing every bad memory she had. “Do you feel better?”

“Oh, I feel incredible.”

“Want to do it again?”

“And again and again,” he said as he nibbled her neck. “But we don’t have to do it tonight.”

“We don’t *have* to do it at all.” She grinned at his horrified expression. She reached out to grasp his neck and tugged, pulling him closer. The first time had proven that she could do this, that she could love Clark the way he deserved to be loved. This- she wanted this time to be for him. Her gift to him. “Make love to me, Clark,” she told him.

By the sound he made, she would have thought him in pain… only she knew better. It meant a lot to him for her to say those words, to allow him this. It meant a lot to her. She’d wanted him for so long and now she was ready. Her body didn’t shake this time, it trembled in excitement. The fear was being replaced with total and complete trust.

In her haze, she opened her eyes to stare at the man she loved. Clark was the one shaking now.

“Clark?”

“That was…” He kissed her again, then rolled so that he was holding her close to his chest. “I had no idea sex could be that good.”

“This from the man who’s had sex on the ceiling,” she said with laughter in her voice.

“Baby, I just crossed another plane of existence.” His hand smoothed over her back. “Wow!”

“It was pretty good, huh?”

“Better than good,” Clark corrected her. “I feel like I just came home for the first time,” he told her after he realized exactly how he felt.

“Like you’ve found your other half?”

“Like I’ve found my other half,” he agreed, pulling her closer. They lay there in silence for a long while before he sighed in complete contentment.

“Happy?”

“Very,” he said. They held one another and drifted to sleep, smiles on their faces. Sometime during the night, Clark covered them up when Lois became chilled. When she snuggled closer, the grin returned to his face. Of course, now he was probably going to have a permanent smile.

***

She was watching him. He could feel her eyes on him long before he woke up. Finally he forced his lids up and her large, expressive brown orbs were staring at him.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” he replied, lifting his hand to play with her hair. “Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time,” she told him.

“What’s wrong?” He knew there was something on her mind.

“Nothing. I was just looking at you.” Her hand smoothed over the side of his face. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”

He smiled at her. “I’m afraid I’m not exactly my type.”

“I hope not. That would be *too* kinky.”

Laughing softly, he shifted her so that he could reposition her leg over his body.

“Will you move into my room with me?” she asked him. “I’d move in here, but the other room is bigger. And it has that nice closet.”

“You want to share a room?”

“Well, duh. We can’t have sex all the time if you’re way over here.” She said it as if the answer was perfectly obvious. But she smiled at him.

“Should we move my bed or use yours?”

“Let’s go pick out a new one. Or you could make us one? You did such a great job on those toys.”

“Wait until you see the desk I’m making for the office.”

“I saw the plans, but it’s always hard to picture the real thing until you see it. I was thinking you could make the furniture for the dining room, too.” They still hadn’t put furniture in that room. They’d looked at a ton of different styles and designs, but nothing had appealed to them both.

“Sure.” His eyes shifted to where his hand was playing in her hair. “Your hair is amazing,” he said absently.

“Don’t say that. I was thinking about getting it cut.”

His eyes went back to hers. “Please don’t. Not right now.”

“Then you wash it and brush it.”

“I will if you’ll keep it a little longer.”

“You would, too,” she said as she shifted completely on top of him, causing him to grunt.

“Lois,” he whispered, grasping her hips.

“What?” she asked innocently, knowing perfectly well her position was compromising his resolve.

“That feels…” he whispered as she kissed his neck.

“How about this?” She moved around to the other side, sucking a lobe into her mouth.

“My God,” he breathed and titled his head to give her better access. So lost in his euphoria, he failed to notice that something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t until what she was doing went from sensual to frantic that he refocused on the woman above him. Her expression was fierce, determined. Her fingers were digging into his chest and she was crying. “Lois,” he said softly. She didn’t stop. Clark’s pleasure was quickly becoming discomfort because her fingers were clawing. He seriously needed to figure out how she was able to get inside his aura like this. Finally deciding enough was enough, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “Stop!” he said with a bit of force. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.”

Her body sagged against his and she pushed her hands around to hold him, her crying becoming sobs. “I don’t know what this is,” she admitted when she’d calmed a bit.

“I know,” he told her, holding the back of her head. She was so emotionally spent it was a miracle they’d made love at all the night before. He knew the main reason she’d probably done it was to prove she could, and while part of him felt ashamed of himself for taking advantage, another part was relieved. Living with Lois was torture at times. She kept him constantly excited. He was also a bit hurt that she’d used him that way. And yet, he couldn’t have denied her either. She’d needed to do this. If not now, at some point and time. Since he was completely in love with her, he was the only one she was going to do this with.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments.

“I’m not,” he said and meant it. They continued to sit there in silence, Clark stroking her back and head, offering her the comfort she needed. And the comfort he needed.

“Clark?” she asked a while later.

“Hmm?” They’d woven a spell around themselves and he didn’t want to disturb it.

“Will you still move in the room with me?”

“I will,” he assured her.

“Can we still have sex?” She leaned back to look at him. “Not now, but sometimes.”

“Lois,” he said and moved his hand around to cup her cheek. “We can have sex any time.”

She smiled and kissed him softly. When she drew away, she shifted to get up. “Want to take a shower with me?”

“Are you ready for that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, pausing just before she pushed off the bed.

“The light will be on,” he told her.

Her eyes bored into his, an expression that seemed to explain what she couldn’t with words. She needed to do this, needed to see for herself that Clark was Clark, and he was never going to hurt her. “I think I want to see your package.”

Clark shook his head with a grin as she hurried into his bathroom. He threw the cover back and followed her in. How in hell was he going to be able to stand taking a shower with this woman? Naked, dry Lois was one thing. Naked, *wet* Lois was another. Seeing her in the pool was enough to send him to the Arctic for an ice bath.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the shower. Her back was to him, thank goodness. He smoothed his hands over her skin. He could see the scars she’d mentioned. His eyes flashed down. The other scar was high on her left cheek. His hand went down, his fingers tracing the outline the ugly mark made.

Lois held her arms up close to her chest as he moved his hands over her back and bottom. He was looking at her scars, no doubt brooding because she’d suffered. She loved that about Clark- that he cared so much. “Not very pretty, are they?”

“Why in hell did he feel he had to do this?” Clark asked aloud, more to himself than her.

She turned around to face him, but gasped when her eyes swept across his chest. “Oh, God,” she breathed, her hands going up to touch him. “I’m so sorry.”

He bent his head to see the marks she was referring to. “It’s okay, Lois. They’ll be gone in a few minutes. They’ve already started to fade.”

“This makes me no better than Lex,” she spat.

“Stop it,” he insisted. “Don’t bring him into this.”

“He’s already in this! He is this!” she snapped, her eyes flashing wildly as they met his.

“No.” Clark grasped her shoulders. “He only has a place if you continue to give him one.”

“He has a place because he took it,” she hissed.

“He has a place because you give it to him,” Clark barked back his insistence.

“Yeah, I give it to him.” She stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. “I’ll finish my shower in my room.”

“Lois, wait,” Clark said as he stepped out on the rug.

“Why? So you can tell me next that I gave it to him then, too?” she asked as she whirled around to face him.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“You were the one who started this, studying my scars. *You* asked why he’d done it.”

“Are you always so damned literal?”

“Are you always so damned infuriating?”

“Infuriating? Lady, you give new meaning to the word.” He snorted unhumorously and threw up his hands. “Why do I even bother?” He turned and stepped back in the shower. Before he could close the door, her hand flew up to stop it.

“Yeah, why do you bother? Of course, you don’t have to anymore. You got what you wanted last night.”

Clark’s expression was surely as shocked as he felt. “Is that what you think?”

“I think I’m too tired to keep trying to pacify you because you get bent out of shape over my emotional instability. Sorry you can’t handle the fact that I was raped, over and over. Sorry I haven’t quite recovered from that because the mighty Superman has been my friend.”

“It’s not me who can’t handle this. You’re the one who has to remind me constantly. Lois, I’m sorry you were raped. I also know it, too well. You don’t have to remind me. And I know you’re not over it. I didn’t ask you to let it go or forget it happened. Excuse me for wanting to take a shower with the woman I love and asking her to leave her rapist where he belongs- in that prison he’s going to die in.” He made a move to turn toward the shower spray, but looked back at her. “Superman has never been your friend. *I* have.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that should change.” She slammed the door closed and stormed from the room.

Clark sighed heavily and finished his shower. He dressed slowly in jeans and a tee shirt. He was off today and had planned on working around the house. He went to check on the twins, who should be waking up by now, but a note on their door told him they were gone with Martha shopping. That was probably best, he thought as he glanced at Lois’ closed door. He made his way downstairs and prepared the coffee machine. He needed a strong cup this morning.

Could he keep doing this? Lois was so volatile, going off when he least expected, about things that really didn’t make much sense to him. He was sure it didn’t make sense to her either, but she was so confused still. After all this time, she wasn’t much better than when they’d first met. He couldn’t imagine how unstable she’d been when she first went to prison. Had they treated her for depression? More than anything she was still very depressed. She needed to speak with someone a bit more qualified to help her than he was.

Lois walked into the kitchen a while later, clearly as agitated as she’d been upstairs. Clark was sitting at the table with his laptop. Before he could close down the page he was on, she saw it. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he lied and closed his computer.

“You’re not a good liar.”

“Among other things,” he mumbled as he stood up.

“Why were you looking at files on me?”

“I wanted to know if you had any treatment in prison.”

“So, now you think I’m a quack?”

“No. I just think you’re having a hard time healing.”

“Are you a doctor now, too?”

He sighed and looked at her. “Lois, why are you mad? Right now? Why are you so mad?”

“Because you’re an ass!”

“Why am I an ass? Because I asked you not to bring Luthor into our intimate moments? I asked last night and it didn’t tick you off enough to stop making love to me.”

“Go to hell, Clark.” She turned and snatched open a cabinet.

“See? Off and running again. But I’ve noticed that you only do this with me. I’m not a rug you can wipe your feet on when you get upset. I have feelings, too, Lois. How do you think I feel when you blow up and I have no idea why? How do you think I felt when you cried after we made love last night? My heart was breaking, but I can’t tell you that because I have to be strong for you. When is somebody gonna be strong for me?”

“Oh, poor baby,” she said sarcastically when she turned around. “What the hell are you whining about? You got your fancy tickled!”

Clark looked at her, not recognizing the woman before him at all. She was deliberately picking a fight and he didn’t know why. Right now he didn’t care either. That last statement had cut to the core. “And since it was the first and last time, I’m glad I enjoyed it,” he said with a deadpan tone.

“Typical male response,” she snorted out.

“I’m not your typical male,” he informed her as he dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink.

“Why? Because you didn’t push me to have sex sooner?” He sighed in frustration, but didn’t turn around. “It wasn’t exactly like you were deprived or anything. I can see why you don’t keep girlfriends long now.” She opened the fridge to look in. “Who wants a man who would rather spend time alone than sleep with her?”

Clark saw red. He took several deep breaths to calm himself, then turned to walk over to her. He reached out to spread his hand on the door of the fridge and slammed it closed. “At least when I’m alone I don’t have to hear all this yapping!”

The sound of his voice, the look in his eyes- it was enough to cause Lois to take a step back. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving.

“I’ve tried. I really have,” Clark went on, his voice still harsh, his expression still thunderous. “I’ve eaten more crow than I think I should have so you could have time to heal. But dammit, Lois, I can’t do this anymore. I know couples disagree and I’ll be the first to tell you that a good fight can solve more problems than ignoring each other. But this is ridiculous. I never know where I stand with you when you get angry like this. If we were fighting over something I’ve done, I’d argue all day. But I can’t… I won’t pay for another man’s sins. Lex Luthor did unspeakable things to you. I know that. I know that nearly killed you. I know you must have wanted to die. You didn’t though. You survived. You walked away. But you’ll never beat him if you keep giving him control.” Clark took a deep breath, holding his head back to help him regain control. He’d gotten entirely too angry. “I knew the first time you were intimate again would be tough for you. Maybe even the first few times. But at some point you owe it to your lover to go to his bed alone. Without Luthor.” He took a step toward her and was glad when she didn’t back away. “I know it might be years before you actually make love and not see him when you close your eyes, but if you open up your heart and believe in the trust you’ve built into your relationship, one day it’ll only be you there when you slip between the covers. And that man you finally give yourself to completely will be the luckiest bastard on the face of the Earth.”

“That man? You say that like it won’t be you.”

Clark looked away from her, his eyes filling with tears. “I want it to be,” he said when he looked at her again. “But right now, it’s not. There’s too many of us in this relationship.”

“So that crap you spouted about being without me was a line?”

“No. I want you with every fiber in my being. But I want *you* and only you.”

“You knew coming into this that I had baggage,” she said in defense.

“Baggage is one thing. This anger, this bitterness- Lois, please. If you love me, go see somebody. Get well. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to the twins to be healthy.”

“I owe it to you?”

“You owe me nothing. I just don’t want to keep going in this circle and wake up one day wondering why we did this for so long.”

“You don’t want to wake up and regret wasting your life with me,” she said as tears blurred her vision.

“I don’t want to wake up and find that you’ve had a complete breakdown. Or worse,” he whispered.

Lois looked away from him, the first rational thoughts she’d had all morning beginning to penetrate her armor. He was right. She didn’t want him to be, but he was. She still felt like she was going crazy some days. Those were the days when the least little things could set her off. Days like today, when she argued and said hurtful things and wasn’t even sure why she’d been angry in the first place. One thing set her off, then everything after that seemed to tick her off.

“For all you fight and claw, I’ve seen a glimpse of what’s lying under that bravado.” Clark stepped close enough to reach out and rub her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “I want to see that fire unleashed.”

“I’m not that person anymore.”

“You probably never will be who you once were, but you can be strong and passionate and intense again.” He moved until his body was touching hers and bent his face to kiss the side of her head. “You can be incredible,” he whispered. “If you’d just believe it.”

He didn’t try to touch her, just stood there giving her the opportunity to come to him. She leaned her forehead over on his chest. When she pushed her arms around his neck, he enclosed her in his strong embrace. She didn’t cry this time. He suspected she was nearly cried out.

Lois turned her face into his neck and inhaled. “I love you. I do love you… so much,” she told him.

“And you deserve to love and be loved,” he told her as his large hands held her, smoothing her sides and back. “You deserve happiness.” Clark kissed her shoulder. “You deserve to have a lover and friend. I want to be that lover, Lois. I want to be the best friend you’ve ever had. You just have to let me.”

“It’s time, Clark. I’ll see somebody.”

He squeezed tighter, lifting her from the floor as he straightened up. He walked with her in his arms toward the den, causing her to giggle. Releasing her so he could sit down, he tugged her hand, asking her to sit on his lap. She did and he held her close. It was nearly an hour later before she eased off his lap and went to make a call she’d been trying to avoid.

***

Therapy was the best thing Lois had done since she’d been with him. Seeing Dr. Friskin had given Lois back a confidence she’d been missing. The nightmares didn’t come very often anymore and when she and Clark were alone, he felt they were truly alone.

Therapy was also the most frustrating thing she’d ever done. One of the first pieces of advice she received was that she needed to heal herself before she could offer anything to anyone else. That meant Clark still slept alone. It also meant that other than kissing, hugging, and touching, he was relegated again to pleasing himself in order to relieve the incredible sexual tension that seemed to be ever present. Of course, this time he was better able to deal with it mentally because he’d begun to attend sessions with Lois. Dr. Friskin believed that since Lois insisted that she was going to make a life with Clark, they should understand one another. He learned that she lashed out because deep inside she believed he’d eventually do to her what Lex had done- what every other man in her life had done. She might not truly believe Clark would physically hurt her, but she did believe he’d hurt her, and her subconscious wanted to get it over with. Under close supervision so that the fire could be doused, they exploded several times over their bruised psyches. Clark now understood her a little more, and he also understood a little more why he lashed back the way he did. A part of him wanted to make her feel as bad as he did when his feelings were hurt. And it was all perfectly natural- human nature.

But the bigger part, the part that had come to cherish Lois Lane wanted to protect her and love her the way she deserved to be. He also wanted her to love him back. That was all he’d ever wanted- a woman that loved him as much as he loved her.

And she did. She loved him fiercely. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. If she didn’t love him so much, she wouldn’t fight so hard to get well either. She loved her kids, would die for them. But she wanted to get well for him. ‘Collin and Perry are wonderful gifts,’ she’d told him. ‘They’re our gift. But you- you’re my gift. You’ve given me yourself completely, and I want to give you no less.’ That had moved Clark beyond belief. There was a time he felt set apart from this world because of his alien biology. He felt set apart now because of her love.

He just wished she was at a place she felt comfortable enough to resume their sex life, he thought as he watched her bend to pick up the toys on the den floor. It had been nearly three months since they’d first made love. Thanksgiving had come and gone. Christmas was only a couple of weeks away. And as much as they’d worked on her healing and their relationship, he missed her. He’d only had a taste and it wasn’t even what he’d truly wanted, but some of Lois was better than none. He put her needs before his most of the time, had done so religiously up until the last few days. But ever since their date the week before, all he’d been able to think about was making love to her. They hadn’t done anything special, just dinner and a movie. Something had changed though. The subtle touches felt different, more pronounced. The look in her eyes was different, deeper.

She dropped on the couch beside him and leaned her head over on his shoulder. “How did we get so many toys?”

“You like to shop,” he said with a grin. He wouldn’t touch her, couldn’t touch her. He was entirely too aroused at the moment. Thank God he was wearing loose fitting pants so she wouldn’t notice.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I have to finish that article on the robbery at Finster’s Jewelers.”

She reached out to grasp his hand. “I love you, Clark.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

He called her baby all the time. He was the only man that could do that and get away with it. It sounded sexy as hell when he said it.

Lois sighed. She was so happy, in a much better place than she’d been the day they had their biggest blow out yet. Seeing Dr. Friskin was the best decision she’d ever made. And as she sat there, inhaling Clark’s shower gel, she wondered if the good doctor would agree she was ready to give herself to this man. Her body certainly agreed it was time. Not making love with Clark the last few months had been the most difficult thing she’d ever abstained from. She wanted him constantly, especially lately. She was glad she’d taken the time to heal because he deserved to make love with her and her alone.

Turning her head to kiss his shoulder, she knew she’d healed enough to give him what he craved. She was ready. She’d left Lex at a session of therapy nearly six weeks ago. That had been a cleansing session and she was finally able to move on. And she’d been thinking of nothing but just how she’d do that for the last week. Tomorrow, while Clark worked, she was going to make some changes in the house. Then he’d come home and they’d get dressed and go to the Kerth awards.

Speaking of which… “Are you nervous about the awards tomorrow?” she asked him.

“Nope. My baby’s gonna win her third Kerth,” he said matter-of-factly, still staring at the television. He wasn’t watching it, of course. The time she’d kissed his shoulder, his whole body had jumped to attention. He briefly wondered if she might be up to helping him relieve a little tension tonight.

“What about you?” Lois asked and sat up. “You’re nominated for one, too.” He was nominated in a different category, and they were nominated for one together- the story on Intergang.

He shrugged. “I’d rather you win.”

“You mean that, don’t you?”

His eyes moved to hers. “I mean that,” he said softly, then sat up to kiss her fiercely. He pulled away abruptly and stood up. “I’m going to bed.” And nearly ran from the room. If he didn’t get away from her, he was going to explode.

“Poor baby,” she whispered. Just one more day, she thought as she stood up to cut the lights. One more day and she’d finally give him his heart’s desire.

***

“You look bootiful, Daddy,” Perry told him as she straightened his tie.

“Thank you, Perry,” he said and leaned to rub his nose against hers. He stood up and turned when Lois walked into the den. His breath left him in a rush and his mouth went dry. She was wearing the black dress she’d worn on their first date… No she wasn’t. This one was new. “Nice dress,” he said. “Nice woman,” he went on. “New dress?”

“Yes. My other black number was too tight.” She held her arms up and whirled around. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds!”

“You look amazing,” he breathed.

“So do you.” It was the first time she’d seen him in a tux. He certainly made it look good.

“Wow, Mommy,” Collin said as he came in from the other room. “Will you go out with me sometime?”

“Of course,” she told him and leaned over to rub his nose with her own. “How about Sunday?”

“Okay.” He grinned at her, then went to plop down in front of the TV.

“Here, Daddy,” Perry said as she tugged his pants. He looked down and took the rose she was holding for him. “Thank you.” He gave her a smile, then walked over to Lois. “For you.”

“Thank you,” she replied as she took the bud. They stared at one another until the bell rang. “Must be Denny.” The young man was sitting with the kids tonight because Clark’s parents were joining them for the awards ceremony.

Clark tore his eyes off her and went to open the door. “How many times have I told you that you’re home when you come here?” he asked the young man. “You don’t have to ring the bell.”

“Remember that when I walk in on a hot interlude,” he joked. “Wow! Lois, you are a knock out!”

“Thank you, Denny.”

“Stop gawking at my date, boy,” Clark said as he reached for Lois’ coat. He held it up while she slipped in it. “Hey,” he yelled at the twins. “Be good and don’t beat Denny too badly.”

“They always do,” Denny said as he went over to tickle his two favorite people. He often sat for the twins to earn extra money. Clark insisted on paying him.

The couple said good-bye to the twins and set out for the city. The ceremony was taking place at the convention center and was packed with the elite of the journalism world. Clark was as far from that place as he could get without leaving. His mind was firmly on the woman hanging on his arm, pride welling within him when he noticed quite a few men seemed to be looking at them with a bit of envy in their eyes. That made him keep her tucked close, and she hadn’t strayed very far from him. He’d thought he was going to blow up when they’d danced. She’d moved in close, her leg between his, her hot breath whispering across his neck, his ear. By the time the dance was over, he was sure he was smoking.

“Clark, you’re sweating,” Lois whispered as they drew apart slowly.

“Yeah,” was all he said as he stared at her. He watched as her eyes widened, then darkened in understanding. “Come on. I think they’re ready,” he said and motioned with his head toward their table. He was more than relieved it was time to start. Another second next to Lois would have sent him spiraling out of control.

They left the ceremony a little while later, laughing and holding three new crystals. Both won in their category and they won the award they were nominated for together. Although there was a table full of people there to congratulate them, they were too wrapped up in one another to notice the others very much. The drive home seemed to be electrically charged. They kept exchanging heated glances and Lois kissed and nibbled on Clark’s hand. Denny congratulated them on their success and headed out. Clark placed their crystals in the case in the hallway and went to find Lois. He looked in on the kids and found Lois in her room. She was stoking a fire.

“Hey,” he said as he walked in, being sure to keep a respectable distance. He was still a bit worked up from being so close to her tonight and didn’t want to tempt fate. He noticed that her bed, or rather her mattress set, was lying on the floor. Looking around he noticed her furniture was gone. “Where are your things?”

“My clothes are in boxes in the closet,” she answered him as she straightened up from the fireplace.

“Why?”

“I’m getting new furniture.”

“Really?” She nodded. “Why?”

“Because I feel there should be furniture in here that we both like.”

“What?”

She smiled at him as she slowly walked his way. “Your clothes are in the closet, too. We’ll move your other things in as soon as you build our new furniture. I was going to just move rooms, but then I thought about the beautiful furniture you make and decided I’d rather have something we both like that you’d made.”

She had come to stand inches in front of him. “You’re ready for me to move in?”

“I’m ready.” She lifted her hands and placed them on his chest. “I’m completely ready.”

Clark took a deep breath, grasped her face, and dove in for a deep, passionate kiss. He drew away to rest his forehead on hers. “Please mean that.” He was more than completely ready.

“I mean it, Clark.” And to prove it, she pulled on his tie. “Shut the door.”

Clark looked up and blew hard at the door so it would slam closed. He stood there, anticipation like he’d never known building as she pulled his tie from his suit. Lois held his gaze as her hands slipped under the edge of his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders. It fell in a puddled heap on the floor. Being constantly aroused for weeks, Clark was much too impatient to undress slowly. He reached down and jerked his shirt open, sending buttons flying around the room. He sighed when her hot hands seared a path across his chest. Her grin told him she appreciated the gesture.

“I can’t wait,” he told her and reached down to grasp her hips. With one swift motion, she was lying on the mattress and he was kneeled above her, working furiously to get his belt undone. She must be as impatient as I am, he thought when she leaned up to help him.

“Show me, Clark. Show me how much you want me,” Lois whispered.

“I don’t want to scare you.” His hand slipped under her hair and he kneaded her neck, barely able to stand the heat between them.

“Show me,” she repeated more firmly.

Clark’s eyes flashed and a second later, his mouth covered hers as he laid her back again. As the kiss deepened, his hands worked furiously toward his prize. “Oh, God,” he breathed when he realized she was urging him on. He drew back to look at her, wide-eyed and waiting- expectant. “Are you still taking the pill?” He thought she was, but wanted to be sure.

“Yes.”

He grinned and leaned back in, intent on a quick conclusion to months of built up tension. He glanced down and realized what he was doing. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted slow, deliberate, passionate sex. Sex that meant something. This would be release and nothing else. He slowly reached up to cup her cheek as he kissed her again. He felt her pull his glasses off his face, then her lips branded his skin. She kissed his cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyes.

That was what he wanted. He took his time, enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. She was warm and so…

“Beautiful,” he breathed, reaching forward to smooth his hand over her stomach. He leaned to kiss her there, dipping his tongue into her navel. He loved kissing Lois. To be able to do so freely and completely was nearly breath taking.

“Right there,” she told him when he found that sensitive spot behind her ear.

Clark felt the wave wash over her, crashing with intensity. She seemed to melt into the bed as she fell on the other side of her euphoria. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as she was at that moment. Lois was finally and completely free. Wanting to feel her, to be there with her, he leaned to kiss her neck as he pulled her even closer. Her eyes focused just as he felt his very soul merge with hers.

“Clark,” she breathed and wrapped her arms around him.

Incredible, he thought. He’d known she’d be passionate when she was finally free of her demons, but this was nothing he’d imagined.

And he couldn’t believe how much it meant to him. He’d never loved her more.

The storm had passed, but it left behind brilliance he’d never known possible from a physical release. His lips descended on hers and he held against her briefly.

“I thought I loved you before,” Clark said as he looked down at her again. Another kiss and he sighed and fell over on his side, throwing an arm across her body. “If sex is going to be like this all the time, I’m damn glad I’m Superman.”

She giggled and turned over to face him. “So, that’s what it’s like?”

“Trust me, I’ve never had sex like that in my life,” he told her, and reached up to smooth the hair off her face.

“I love you, Clark.”

“Oh, baby, I love you.” He moved over and kissed her again, then tucked her into his body.

“Was it worth it?”

“The wait?”

“Yeah.”

“As frustrating as it was, it was worth every second. Although I hope we don’t wait three more months before we do it again.”

“Oh, no. We *have* to do that all the time.”

Clark chuckled and rolled onto his back. “What better time to get a start on round two?”

She laughed but slipped on top of him. Round two was no less intense and no less breath taking.

They moved into the master bedroom together the next day. Clark made new furniture, including a large bed- with plenty of room to work.

And they worked on it often. She’d mention her past now and then, and she’d even cry from time to time, but she’d finally given herself to Clark completely. And he was loving every second.

But he’d had no idea she’d meant *have* to quite so literally. They made love everywhere, sometimes several times in a day. She’d told him she was glad he was Superman and could recover so quickly. He was, too, because she wanted him all the time. They’d made love in every room of the house, in the garage, in the cars, sitting outside on the patio in a chair. Snow was falling that night and they were wrapped in a blanket, but they’d had sex. Nowhere was off limits, including the Planet. Lois was suddenly as insatiable as she’d been reserved. He spoke with Dr. Friskin about it and she assured him it was quite natural. Her desire would wane away, she told him.

Two weeks later, she was still just as amorous as she’d been the first week. On Christmas Eve, they put the twins to bed and made love under the tree. Then in their room. Of course, they were at it again before the twins got up to see what Santa brought them. Later Christmas Day, with the house packed with people, Lois had cornered him in their bathroom. He’d made love to her right there.

‘If you’re so worried about this’, Dr. Friskin had said to him. ‘Why are you condoning it by participating?’

Was she kidding? He was participating because he’d never felt so good, so alive. And the sex was incredible. Why would he stop?

How utterly whacked was that? he thought as he walked up the driveway dragging the trash can. The New Year had come and gone. February was almost here.

And Lois was still insatiable. The only break he’d gotten was the week she was on her period. If you could call it a break. She’d teased him relentlessly. Of course, she’d helped him with the tension, too, but still…

He looked up at the woman standing in the window upstairs. She was waving at him. He grinned and waved back. When he made it inside, she was standing at the stove.

“Are you cooking?”

“Funny, Kent.”

He teased her all the time about her cooking, even though she was becoming a really good cook, with help from his mother. “Smells good, baby,” he said as he bent to kiss her neck. Hell, he was as bad as she was. He could have very easily made love to her right there.

She turned around to look at him. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What?”

“I chose my family over my career. I mean, yeah, I work. Hell, I won a Kerth last year. But I would much rather be home with my kids than in the city running the rat race.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We were at play group today and I overheard some snooty little heifer talking about how she’d never give up her career for a man, no matter how many beautiful children he gave her.”

“Heifer?” he asked, with a raised brow.

“Clark!” she whined.

“It’s just words, baby,” he told her and reached out to hug her. “Are you happy?”

“Well, I thought I was, but then I got to thinking.”

Clark pushed her back and looked at her with concerned eyes.

“I don’t think I am happy.”

“What?” he asked, fear washing over him. He was happy. “Lois…” he started, but stopped when she grinned.

“I’m not happy because something’s missing.”

“What’s missing? Honey, if I’ve done something…”

“This is missing.” She pushed a book across the counter toward him. It was a bride’s magazine. “I hadn’t meant to ask you like this. I wanted something a bit more romantic.”

Clark’s eyes snapped up to hers. “This is what’s missing?” he asked as he pulled a box out of his pocket.

Lois’ mouth fell open as she got her first look at the gorgeous ring inside.

“I bought it with the intention to ask you to marry me at Christmas, but…” He shrugged. “It just didn’t seem like the right time. I was waiting on Valentine’s Day.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying today for a different reason. Clark laughed softly as he hugged her close.

“Is that a yes?”

“You didn’t ask yet,” she told him as she drew back to look at him.

“Lois,” he said, his smile fading into a serious expression. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Yes, yes, yes!” She kissed him hard, then drew back to hold out her hand. He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her again. “I love you, Clark.”

“I love you, Lois.” He laughed again when their eyes met. “Feel better now?”

“I feel so much better. I didn’t know how much I wanted to be your wife until today.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“More than ready.” She grinned at him wickedly. “Besides, if we keep having sex the way we’ve been doing, we’ll need to be married.”

His brows rose. “You’re not…?”

“No, no. I’m not pregnant. But I want to be married for real before I am the next time.”

“Next time? Do you intend to get pregnant again?”

“Well, I’d like to… one day.”

Clark reached out to cup her cheek. “I would love for us to have more babies.”

“Good.” She kissed him solidly. “Go get the babies you already have ready for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walked toward the door.

“Hey, Clark?” She waited until he turned back. “Can we get married sooner rather than later?”

“Why the rush?”

“There’s no rush. I’d just like to have a spring wedding.”

“Spring? *This* spring?”

“Yes, this spring.” She rolled her eyes at him.

He cocked his head to look at her. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Since I was ten,” she told him.

Every little girl imagines her perfect wedding. Lois just told him that their wedding was the one she’d been looking forward to her whole life. He closed the distance to her and kissed her again. “Am I your knight in shining armor?” he joked.

“You’re my wind in blue and red spandex sails,” she answered with a grin.

He laughed softly.

“What’s so funny?”

Clark turned to look at his mother and father who’d come for dinner the way they did most nights. He held Lois close as he grinned even wider. “I cast her across the stormy seas,” he replied. Lois laughed again.

Martha just shook her head. Those two were always full of something.

Clark’s eyes went back to Lois’. “What do you say we have a *Kansas* spring wedding?”

“Oh, that does sound good. The twins would love it. And we could make out in the hayloft,” she finished with a waggle of her brows, causing him to laugh.

“Did I hear wedding?” his mother asked.

“Yes,” Clark answered without looking away from the incredible woman before him. “We’re getting married… in the spring.”

“Hot dog!” Jonathan shouted, but he’d have to wait to congratulate his son because the boy was kissing his fiancée.

***

Clark whirled Lois around in a circle, then dipped her back deeply while he kissed her neck. They were dancing in the living room, still celebrating their engagement. Even after a week, it seemed surreal to Lois. Just months ago she would have sworn she’d never get married again. They were in the middle of a party Jack and Jimmy insisted they have. The house was packed with all of their friends and family, everyone having a wonderful time.

“Hey, CK, mind if I cut in?”

Clark lifted his eyes from Lois to look at Jack. He was about to tell the young man that he did mind, but thought better of it when he noticed the expression on the young man’s face. “Take good care of her, Jack,” he said as he stepped back, slowly releasing her.

“Absolutely,” Jack replied as he stepped in front of her.

Lois smiled at him as she lifted her hand to his shoulder. “Thank you, for the party,” she told him.

“Thank you, for taking care of him.” He glanced over at Clark, who was now dancing with Lucy. She’d been doing so well that she had been released from the hospital. The prosecutor, with a lot of prompting from people who cared for Lucy, decided that pressing any kind of charges against her would not benefit anyone. Lucy had been introduced to her other sister, Lana, and had been staying with the other woman, trying desperately, with the help of Dr. Friskin, to make sense of her life as well. The younger Lane woman was also working at the Planet as a research assistant.

“Clark means a lot to me,” Jack went on. “He’s the big brother I’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah. You mean a lot to him, too.” Lois couldn’t believe how much the young man before her had grown up. Jack was a very special person. “He told me that he was impressed that you and Jimmy never made a big deal out of him being Superman.”

“To us he’s just Clark.” Jack whirled her around. “But he’s so much more, too.”

“Yeah. I feel the same way about him.” It was hard to describe. Most of how they felt about Clark had nothing to do with the fact that he was super.

“He needs you, Lois, as much as you need him.”

“I know. I hope I can be all he needs.”

“You just have to be here. That’s all he needs.” They danced for a minute before he smiled at her. “You do know if I was a little older, CK wouldn’t stand a chance?”

“Oh, I know.” They laughed briefly as the dance continued.

“I’m glad you’re here and I’m glad you’re well.” He leaned over to hug her tightly. “And I’m glad you put up with me like CK does.”

“Oh, Jack, I love you as much as he does,” she replied as she held him. He drew back and she smiled at him. “I hear we’re gonna have another party soon. A graduation party.”

Jack glanced toward his brother. “That kid’s really gonna do it, Lois. Thanks to CK.” Denny’s senior year in high school had been outstanding. He’d already had three schools offer to have him study there.

“I think that kid’s gonna do it because of you,” she answered.

They stopped moving as Jack looked back at Denny. “What am I gonna do without him next year?”

Just then Lucy stepped up to them. “Hey, Jack, would you like to go for a walk?”

Lois grinned when his eyes met hers. “Oh, I think you’ll find something to do,” she answered the question he’d asked.

“Maybe I will.” Jack leaned over and kissed Lois’ cheek, then grinned widely at Lucy. “Come on, gorgeous,” he said as he threw his arm around her shoulders. “Let me show you the play set I’m helping CK build.” It was a bit cold out, but he’d keep her warm if she got cold, he decided. Who was he to turn down such a sweet request from a pretty lady?

Lois looked around the room. Jimmy was dancing with Lana, of all people. He’d actually been out with her three times, which was… weird at first. But Clark had insisted he was completely okay with it if that was what they wanted to do. Judging by the way there were looking at each, it was definitely what they wanted to do, among other things.

She snorted softly and walked across the room to cuddle with her twins. They had been dancing earlier with one another, which was adorable. After a hug or two, they were off to find something else to do. She noticed Martha was sharing a laugh with Alice, Perry and Jonathan were talking about the stock market. Mayson and Dan were cuddling, something else Lois found hard to grasp. Clark was laughing at something Denny said. When he felt her eyes on him, he looked up and grinned at her. That man had become her life. He’d worked through her defenses, showed super human patience, and loved her like crazy. She would give him no less.

***

“I think the party was a success,” Lois said as she picked up Clark’s foot and sat down on the couch in the den.

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t have to clean up.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said as she swatted him with one of the pillows. “You were done in like ten seconds.”

He laughed as he caught the pillow and tossed it back at her.

Lois smoothed her hand over his foot, down his leg. He’d changed into his sleep shorts earlier. “I never get tired of your body.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Watch it, Kent. I’ll cut you off.”

He sat up and kissed her below her ear. “Don’t do that. After you’ve been so thoroughly taking care of me lately, I’d die if you cut me off,” he said softly.

“Do you think I’m insatiable?”

“Insatiably, uncontrollably, wonderfully, perfect.” He nibbled her lobe, causing her to giggle.

The giggle subsided when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. She turned and kissed him, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. He’d helped create a mad woman, she thought as her hands threaded into his hair. Since she’d finally, finally learned that this man was her other half, she’d given herself over to him completely.

Well, almost completely, she thought as she maneuvered so that she was straddling him. He’d turned and sat against the back of the couch so that they could continue their latest quest to please one another. The twins had gone home with their grandparents tonight to give them some time alone and she wasn’t going to waste it. She was also going to cross the final barrier between her and this incredible man.

Drawing away from the wonderful, full lips plundering hers, she slipped to her knees between Clark’s legs. They’d made love in every possible position and in nearly every place imaginable. He’d loved her completely, his lips and mouth bathing her entire body on more than one occasion. But she’d yet to show him the same appreciation. Her hands had branded him more than once, but…

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked as she drew away from a kiss.

“I think I maybe I do,” she said as she smoothed her hands over him slowly. His breath hissed through his teeth and he laid his head back to enjoy what she was doing. They’d done this more than one time. Lois loved to watch him while she touched him with her hands. She’d done it often. Yet she’d never been this daring, this bold.

“Oh, God, Lois,” he breathed. He knew certain aspects of their sex lives might be something he would never receive from Lois, considering how thoroughly Luthor had humiliated her with those acts. Though he’d longed to experience it all with her, he’d relegated himself to the fact that it probably wouldn’t happen. Now though…

“What? Don’t you want me to do this?”

“Yes!” he shouted, then leaned over to kiss her. “It’s just… give me a minute.”

She smiled at him, thrilled with how she made him feel. She’d thought she’d never affect a man like that again. But with Clark, she wanted to.

“Just watching you… Don’t do this unless you really want to.”

“I really want to,” she assured him and kissed him before he could say another word.

A new admiration for the woman she was washed over him as he looked into her eyes. They’d talked about how Luthor had subjected her to such deep humiliation.

Luthor had made her do unthinkable things- had degraded even the simple act of touching someone. Then he’d done it again, over and over. True intimacy was the one thing Lois had the most trouble dealing with. She knew Clark was nothing like Luthor- would never force her to do anything. Yet she’d been unable and unwilling to indulge him in a truly gloriously pleasing, wonderfully intoxicating experience that only comes from physical intimacy… and deep love. And now that she had, his respect for her grew.

“Clark, when we make love and you…” She waved her hand to explain what she couldn’t speak. “I feel like you… own me.”

His brows rose, a horrified expression on his face.

“Not like that,” she was quick to tell him. “It’s as if I become part of you, become yours.”

“I feel that way every time we make love.”

“I do, too, but the other… it’s different. I can’t explain it. All I know is that I want to, I *need* to feel the same way.”

“And you think this will make you feel that way?”

“Only one way to find out,” she said with a grin. She stared at him for a moment, then pushed up so she could kiss him.

Right then, he’d indulge her anything, one experience fading into another.

“Clark… oh, God, I felt it. I still feel it,” she told, then held his head while she kissed him, running her tongue over his again and again.

“Damn,” he breathed.

Two minutes later, Lois was smiling at him with all the love she felt for him. He kissed her softly once more.

“I love you, Lois,” he told her when he drew back.

“I love you, Clark.” Another kiss before she hugged him close. “So, you gonna let me do that some more?”

“Oh yeah,” he breathed as his hands held her close, causing her to laugh softly. He couldn’t believe this woman was real. How had Jor-El known when he’d sent his baby boy away so long ago that some day the man his son would become would find a woman that could not only match him step for step, she had the power to bring him to his knees? After a moment, he drew back and grinned at her. She smiled back and before long they were laughing. Coming home had never been so sweet.

***

Perry White sat back in his chair and grinned widely at the picture on the front page of the Planet. Wedding announcements didn’t usually make the front page, but this one was special. Clark Kent had been a gamble Perry had taken at a time when his heart was broken over the loss of his daughter. That gamble had paid off. His daughter had come home and all was right in his world.

The Planet proclaimed Lane and Kent the hottest team in town. They’d found their way to one another after overwhelming trials and obstacles. Lois survived life with a maniac, brought beautiful life into this world, and created something special with an extraordinary man. They’d make it, Perry thought as he looked at the happy smiles on the faces of the couple in the image Jimmy had snapped.

“I wonder if he knows he’s going to be a daddy again,” Jack asked as he looked down at the photo over Perry’s shoulder.

“He’ll know soon enough.”

“You did it again, Chief,” Jack said as he clapped the older man’s shoulder. “You knew what she needed even when she had no clue.”

“When are you going to learn, boy? I’m not a man in my position because I can yodel.”

He and Jack laughed out loud. All was well with the world again. The Daily Planet was a beacon in a city of injustice. Perry White’s kids were all well and home where they should be. Superman was flying the sky and had his super woman.

And Lois Lane was married to Clark Kent.

What could be better than that?

THE END

The Diagnosis

By Lynn S. M.

Rated: PG for a couple of mild swear words

Submitted: August 2012

Summary: Lois and Clark must deal with their younger son’s diagnosis of autism. This story is a prequel to the author’s “Echolalia.”

Disclaimer: Jeremy, Todd, and Dr. Connolly are my own creates; all other characters mentioned herein are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers; I am just borrowing them for some nonprofit fun.

This story is a prequel to “Echolalia.” The stories can be read in either order, although each one does have minor spoilers for the other.

My thanks to my BRs Anti-Kryptonite and my BFF Margot. This story is a much different, and a much better, story for their suggestions.

As always, all feedback welcomed.

***

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Todd has autism.”

The doctor’s pronouncement sounded like a death knell to Clark. The son he thought he would have did not exist. Todd would never speak. Never get married. Never even have a friend. He wouldn’t play baseball or attend a prom. Todd’s life would be so much less than Clark had thought it would. So much less than Clark wanted for his son.

Clark set his jaw and pinched his lips into a tight line, the diagnosis tolling in his mind. Autism. He hadn’t wanted to believe it.

He remembered how that word had first insinuated itself into the family.

It was Ellen who had been the first to notice something amiss. The conversation she and Lois had was burned into Clark’s brain. It had occurred in the kitchen a couple of months after Todd’s first birthday while Clark had been playing with Jerome in the living room. The door separating the rooms had been open, and the conversation was audible even without his super hearing.

Ellen had approached Lois with a concern and hesitation that was not at all typical of her. “Lois, have you taken Todd to see Dr. Klein lately?”

“Of course, Mother. I’ve taken him to all of his well-visit appointments.” Although Clark could not see her, he could readily imagine Lois rolling her eyes as she said this.

“Well, maybe you should take him again, soon. He’s not behaving like other children his age. He should be pointing and imitating people by now. I think you should have an expert check him out. Ask Dr. Klein to refer you to a neurologist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Todd!”

“Lois, surely you’ve seen that his behavior is very different than Jerome’s was.”

As was her wont, Lois approached such an uncomfortable conversation with a frontal attack. “So, he’s a little different than his brother; ‘different’ doesn’t mean ‘bad.’ You always have to have something to complain about. Can’t you just be happy for me that I have a wonderful family? Are you so jealous that you have to infect me with your worries?”

Clark had been surprised that Ellen didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, Lois’ mother took a deep, calming breath and tried again. “Lois, I’m a nurse. I’ve seen lots of kids and I know. Todd’s not reaching his milestones. There is something wrong. And the sooner you address it, the better off Todd will be.”

“Oh, so now I’m a bad mother, just because I don’t rush Todd off to the doctor at your slightest whim.”

Clark could tell that Ellen’s store of patience had run out. He had to admit to himself that although he thought Ellen was way off-base, she was actually the one handling the conversation in a more reasonable fashion.

“That’s my grandson whose life you’re playing with. OK, I tried to break it to you gently, but you’re just not listening. So here it is: I think Todd has autism.”

“You’re insane. He doesn’t rock. He looks at us. He likes to be cuddled. He’s nothing like autistic kids.”

“Lois, I know what he does and doesn’t do. I’ve baby-sat him enough. But I have also seen plenty of kids with autism. Not every autistic kid behaves the way you describe. Just go, have him checked out.”

Clark briefly considered interrupting his game with Jerome to go into the kitchen to smooth things over: to calm Lois down and to support her against Ellen’s accusations of Todd having autism. Before he had a chance to do so, however, the conversation came to an abrupt end.

“I think it’s time for you to leave. Good night, Mother.”

Of course as soon as the children were in bed, Lois railed aloud against her mother’s advice. Clark, ever the optimist and the proud father, had fully agreed with Lois. Ellen’s notion had seemed preposterous at the time.

***

Two sentences. Two short, simple sentences. That’s all it had taken to shatter their world. Lois’ mind reeled, and she looked to her husband for support. He wore an emotionless mask — his Superman “I will not show my feelings” face.

Lois’ thoughts returned to their younger son. Todd had been such a happy baby. And so interactive. He used to be even more outgoing than Jerome had been at that age. He had made perfect eye contact. Smiled at people. Who could have imagined it would come to this?

Lois and Clark had both thought him a genius. Before he was even a year old, he could hand them a requested letter from an alphabet puzzle. Lois remembered that she had beamed with pride, and bragged to everyone who would listen, willingly or not, that Todd was going to win his first Kerth award at a younger age than even she had done. How could he not, when he was already showing signs of literacy far beyond his handful of months?

And it wasn’t just his ability to recognize letters that was unusual. He could also pick out specified shapes from his shape puzzle before he was a year old. And not just triangles, squares and circles, but also more complex shapes such as trapezoids and hexagons.

He had apparently inherited Lois’ musical abilities, as well. He was tapping his foot in perfect rhythm to songs before he was even able to cruise. Clark had been the first to see it, and at first Lois had been skeptical. After all, one of the few things that Clark did NOT do well was music. She remembered vividly the delight she’d felt when Clark put on some music and Todd proved him right.

Todd had had such a promising beginning.

Lois wondered when their son had first started showing signs of autism. She reluctantly admitted to herself that Ellen had not only been right, but she had seen the warning signs quite a while before anyone else had.

Lois had only allowed herself to believe that something was wrong a couple of months later. She had taken Todd in for his well-visit checkup and to receive his latest round of immunizations. When he got the MMR vaccine, he started screaming bloody murder. Shortly after they arrived back home, he had developed a fever. A call to the doctor had reassured her that this was not unheard of and that she should just treat it as any other fever. The fever went away in a few days, but Todd was never the same afterward. That marked the beginning of his retreat into himself.

At first, the changes had been subtle. Their elder son Jerome had started to complain that Todd wasn’t smiling at him or playing with his toys anymore. Lois had dismissed the concern; she had just figured that Todd was still feeling a little under the weather and wasn’t up to smiling or playing. But now she realized that Jerome, who had always been extremely close to his younger brother, had picked up on changes she herself should have seen.

The weeks that followed were among the most painful of Lois’ life. Long after Todd should have recovered fully from his fever, he was showing less and less interest in the world around him. His behaviors changed in other ways, as well. He used to babble, but he ceased doing so. He lost the few words he had had. She couldn’t remember the last time he had called out for Mama or Dada.

He stopped exploring his surroundings. He would just sit and stare. Well, ‘stare’ was putting it charitably, since his eyes were unfocussed. She could clap her hands an inch in front of his face and he wouldn’t even blink.

Her once-cuddly baby now did not seem to want to be touched. If she rubbed his back, he showed no awareness of her presence. His muscles wouldn’t even become more tense or lax. And if she went to give him a hug, he would whine and bat her away.

Sometime between Jerome’s complaint and Todd’s full deterioration, she had confided her fears to Clark.

“I think Mom may be right about Todd.”

“What?”

“He’s changing, Clark. We’re losing him. I’ve been doing some reading, and I think Mom’s right. I think he has autism.”

“That’s crazy. No one in your family has autism. And I doubt anyone in my biological family does, either; it’s a human condition.”

“I’ve been reading up on autism. There are three primary characteristics associated with it: Impaired social interaction. Check. Todd isn’t even looking at us anymore. Impaired language skills. Check. He’s lost his words and isn’t even babbling. And restrictive and repetitive behavior. Check. He has stopped playing with his toy car by rolling it on the floor. He just holds it upside down and spins its wheels. And he has regressed into playing dump-and-fill games for hours on end. If I try to stop him, he starts to cry.”

“You’re reading too much into his behaviors. He’s fine. You’ve been thinking too much about autism and now you’re seeing things that aren’t there. He’s probably just teething. Don’t the books say that that affects kids’ behavior?”

“It’s more than that, Clark. I’m going to take him to see Bernie tomorrow.”

Clark sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “All right, honey, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll go with you.”

Dr. Klein had then referred them to Dr. Connolly, a pediatric neurologist. Bernie had reassured them that the assessment for autism was not invasive and wouldn’t risk the discovery of Todd’s mixed lineage. Autism was determined by observation of behavior, not by any blood or urine tests.

That’s what had led up to today. And even though Lois had suspected that Todd was autistic, she still was not prepared for the doctor’s verdict. Nothing could have prepared her for that. And her glance at Clark revealed that he was in shock as much as she. Probably more so, since he had remained in denial about the possibility through it all. She knew he had come along today simply to humor her and to show his emotional support. Of course he was too considerate to say so, but she knew him.

Lois never thought she’d ever wish to be wrong about anything, but she had indeed fervently hoped that she was wrong about Todd.

Dr. Connolly asked them if they had any questions. Clark asked the first one, “What’s the cure?”

Dr. Connolly finally showed a hint of sympathy. “There is none. You might want to consider alternate living arrangements for him so that the experts can work with him and so that you can focus your attention on your other son.”

Lois was outraged. The shock from the diagnosis was replaced with a firm resolve. “You mean institutionalize our baby? Like hell we will! Come on, Clark. If the ‘good’ doctor won’t help our son, we’ll do it ourselves.” She left the office, dragging Todd with one hand and Jerome with the other. Clark followed quietly behind.

***

Clark sat in silence during the car ride home, still trying to digest the diagnosis. Autism. Incurable. Lifelong. He grimaced. He had always thought *he* wasn’t normal, that he didn’t really fit into society; but from what the doctor had said, he was at the very center of the bell curve compared to Todd. At least Clark could hold ordinary conversations, he knew how society expected people to behave and he was able to blend in, to pass himself off as just a regular guy. Todd would probably never be able to do any of that. Todd might be half-human, but people would see him as being more alien than Superman.

Autism. Incurable. Lifelong. There wasn’t anything Clark could do about it. He had finally met a villain he was powerless against. How do you fight a foe like autism? You can’t. He could do nothing to help Todd. Nothing.

Every time he glanced at Todd, he saw his own shortcomings, his own helplessness, his powerlessness. He also saw his guilt. No one in Lois’ family had autism. He didn’t know about his biological family. But autism had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? So it had to be his fault. Either he carried the genes himself, or else the autism was caused by the interactions between human and Kryptonian genes. It had been a miracle that he and Lois could even have any kids. It probably was too much to hope that both their children would both be healthy and of sound mind.

Todd’s autism was his fault, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

***

Lois saw Todd plop himself down in front of his shape sorter as soon as they returned home, dump it out, and proceed to put the shapes back in. Lois knew that he would stay there for hours repeating that process, if she let him. Normally, she would intervene to try to guide him into a more productive activity. But not today. Today, she was on a mission. She had been learning a bit about autism before, but now she would learn everything there was to know, and she would get her son back!

Lois was dimly aware of Clark and Jerome entering the house behind her, of Clark mechanically hanging up Jerome’s coat and of him slumping into a chair while Jerome went over to Todd to try to join him in his play. Lois’ mind was on the Internet searches she planned to conduct.

***

Superman set down the mother and daughter, then turned to the fire chief to let him know that the building was clear. After a few sentences, he flew back in to blow out the fire.

He left the scene as soon as he could. The girl couldn’t have been much older than Todd, but even their brief interaction showed that she could do so much more than Todd could. She had made eye contact with Superman. She had smiled at him and waved goodbye when he took off. She interacted more with him in those few minutes than his own son had in months.

That nonverbal exchange had been sheer agony. But as painful as that interaction had been, at least Clark knew he had saved her life and that of her mother. He was able to do good for them. Thanks to him, they would be able to go on to have full lives. Normal lives. He was able to make a positive difference.

He wished he could do something for his son, but he knew he couldn’t. And every time he saw Todd, it was a knife to his heart. His son needed help that he couldn’t give. His heart ached for his son, but he could do nothing for him.

He had been spending more and more time lately on Superman duty; he might not be able to help his son, but at least his caped persona could help other people. Performing rescues helped him to feel a little less powerless.

A part of him felt guilty for abandoning Lois so much of the time, but he reasoned with himself that even when he was home, they didn’t exactly spend time together. She was too busy investigating autism online in the hopes of finding something they could do to help Todd. He couldn’t really blame her; after all, she was just doing what he was — trying to find some way to help, some way to feel that she was making a difference. He hoped that she could find something useful in her research. But the neurologist had said that autism was incurable and lifelong; if the expert didn’t know of any cures, how likely would it be that Lois would find one on the Internet?

Clark concluded that Superman had been busy long enough this evening. Time to return home.

***

Lois was drained. Every moment in the past three weeks that she wasn’t busy with her reporting or with taking care of Jerome and Todd had been spent researching autism. She had read websites until her eyes glazed over, placed phone calls to schools, therapists, insurance companies, government agencies, and a wide range of businesses claiming to help children with autism. Although she had learned a lot, she was left with more questions than she had had to begin with.

There was so much still unknown about autism. What caused it. Whether it could develop after birth or whether it was congenital even in cases where the more obvious symptoms didn’t manifest themselves until the child was months or even years old. Whether there even was one single cause. Whether it was possible to recover from it. What the prognosis for a given child might be. Whether it was becoming more common, or even what the prevalence of it currently was. What the physical manifestations of autism were. Seemingly simple questions that often resulted in highly charged debates with no definitive answers.

She wished she could talk to Clark about it, but he had been spending almost all of his non-work time in the Suit.

She heard the familiar whoosh of Clark’s return. He closed the bedroom window and spun into his black silk pajamas.

Lois fought the growing resentment she felt toward him. Once again, he had returned only after Todd and Jerome were in bed. He hadn’t seen his sons awake for more than three hours in as many weeks. For that matter, he hadn’t even seen Lois awake outside of work much more than that.

Clark commented, “That fire was nasty, but I managed to rescue the building’s residents before they were hurt.”

Lois snapped, “Jerome and Todd had a good evening. I did, too. Thanks for asking.”

Clark’s shoulders stiffened and he bit out, “What’s your problem?”

“You are. You’re never here.”

“You knew I was Superman when you married me. I thought you understood that I’d have to leave you alone when somebody needed me.”

“I do. I do understand that. Really. But I thought you understood that being a father means juggling your responsibilities. And you *did* understand that right up until Todd was diagnosed. But in the past three weeks, you’ve been as bad as you were back when I turned down your proposal. You ‘re hiding in your cape. You’re trying to escape the reality of Todd’s autism by rescuing other people. Try helping rescue your own son!”

Clark’s voice became low in both pitch and volume. “You think I don’t want to? You think I wouldn’t help Todd if I could? If I could give up my life in exchange for making him normal, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t. Don’t you see that? There’s *nothing* I can do to help him. And that hurts. So, yes. I am helping the people I can help. I’d rather help Todd, but I can’t fly in and snatch him from the jaws of autism. And it’s hard. It hurts more than anything else ever has.”

Lois wanted to rail at him that Todd needed him. That *she* needed him. Jerome, too, for that matter. And he had abandoned all of them. She wanted to scream that she was hurting, too, and not only could she not fly off, she had to pick up the slack he left every time he flew out the window.

She realized that she had already started to let Mad Dog Lane out on a rampage; a part of her wanted to continue in that vein. But she knew that that approach wouldn’t help. One thing she had learned in her years of marriage and motherhood was that one needed to pick one’s battles very carefully, and to consider the long-term effects of one’s actions. Although yelling at Clark right now would certainly be satisfying, it wouldn’t solve any of their problems; it would only add to them.

So she just stood still, breathing deeply until she could master her emotions a bit. She then put her hand on one of Clark’s folded arms and looked him in the eyes. She forced herself to speak in a gentle voice. “I know you’re hurting. I am, too. But you’re wrong. Dr. Connolly was wrong, too. There *are* things we can do to help Todd. They won’t be as easy or as fast as rescuing someone from a burning building, and they won’t all work, but we can help Todd get the most out of life. He may never fully recover, but he can improve.”

Lois thought she caught a glimmer of hope in Clark’s eye, but his voice remained skeptical. “What can we do?”

“There are all sorts of therapies out there. Applied Behavioral Analysis. Sensory Integration Therapy. Special diets. Biomedical interventions. Patterning. Massage therapy. Secretin. Some of the stuff being hyped looks like snake oil to me, but there is scientific evidence for Applied Behavioral Analysis. And some of the alleged therapies seem to have a lot of anecdotal support.

“But I could really use your help. There’s so much information and misinformation out there that it would take me months to read it and sort it all out. And one of the few things that pretty much everyone agrees on is that the earlier positive interventions are started, the better.

“Think you could do some super-fast reading and let me know what you find out? There’s no way we could afford all of the therapies, even if we did want to try them all. Most aren’t covered by insurance, and a lot cost thousands of dollars each.”

Clark’s eyes regained a spark she hadn’t seen in them for a very long time.

***

That discussion was a turning point for the whole family. With Clark’s speed-reading ability, he quickly surpassed Lois in terms of autism-related knowledge. He also read a few books by Temple Grandin, and encouraged Lois to read them, as well. Dr. Grandin started life as affected by autism as Todd, but she grew up to earn a doctorate in animal science and became a successful entrepreneuse. The more-humane cattle chutes she had designed were used in slaughterhouses throughout the country. She also was a nationally-renowned speaker who gave presentations at both animal husbandry and at autism conferences. She invented a “squeeze machine” that many people on the spectrum found calming. And although her personal life seemed pretty barren to Clark (she did still have autism, after all, and she seemed to prefer the company of animals to that of other people), she herself felt that she had a satisfying life. And really, Clark realized, it was her own opinion of her quality of life that mattered, not his. Clark knew that Dr. Grandin’s successes were not at all typical of people on the spectrum — or of neurotypical people, for that matter — but that she was able to accomplish so much and have such a fulfilling life showed that it was possible for someone with autism to do so. There was hope for Todd, after all.

Lois and Clark explored the myriad of interventions for autism and chose several to pursue. Some didn’t seem to yield any results, others yielded such minimal results that they were set aside to free up their temporal and monetary resources for more effective treatments. Progress was painfully slow, but it was real.

Several months had passed since they had started trying various interventions; they tried a new one every three weeks or so, and they were a few days into their most recent intervention. Clark had just finished spending an hour or so engaging in floortime with Todd. (“Floortime” had been one of their earlier interventions which had been proving successful enough for them to continue indefinitely.) When Todd settled down to play a solitary dump-and-fill game, Clark asked Jerome to join him for a game of checkers. (Clark knew that siblings of kids on the spectrum often got short shrift in terms of their parents’ time, and he was determined not to let that happen with Jerome.) While they were playing, they talked about everything from how hard Jerome’s math class was to the latest antics of his friend Joe. Their conversation was accompanied by the plop, plop, plop of plastic shapes being dropped into Todd’s shape sorter, followed by the sound of the pieces being dumped from the shape sorter back onto the floor so that Todd could begin putting them back in again.

After about 15 minutes, Clark was alerted by the quiet that Todd had stopped playing with his shape sorter. Clark immediately looked up to see Todd standing. Clark watched to make sure that his younger son wasn’t going to get into any mischief; he certainly didn’t want a repeat of the previous week’s spice-dumping incident. But instead of heading toward the kitchen, Todd approached Jerome’s chair and reached his little arms around his brother to give him a quick hug. He scampered off almost before Clark realized what had happened, let alone before Jerome could turn around to reciprocate the hug.

Clark was stunned; a part of him didn’t dare believe what he had seen. That had been the first hug that Todd had given anyone in months. It made Clark realize how much Todd was once again interacting with his environment and even with people. Clark couldn’t wait until Lois got home to share the news with her.

Clark saw that the hug had affected Jerome as much as it had himself. His older son was smiling, but his eyes were moist. After a minute, Jerome managed to say, “He hugged me, Dad.”

“Yes, son, he did.”

Clark knew that their whole family had many years of challenges and hard work ahead of them. He didn’t know how much progress Todd would make, or whether he would ever be able to live independently. But he now knew that it was possible that the sky was the limit; their affectionate son was starting to come back to them.

The satisfaction Clark found in rescuing strangers was nothing compared to the joy he felt in being able to help his own son. He mentally paraphrased an old commercial: Parenting was the toughest job he’d ever love.

THE END

As you may have surmised, much of this story is at least partially drawn from my own life. This includes some of the seemingly-outrageous abilities of the very young Todd. My son was indeed able to identify complex shapes, ranging from trapezoids and hexagons to letters of the alphabet, before he was a year old. He also was able to tap his foot to music before he could even stand without support.

I have tried numerous medical, dietary, and behavioral interventions with my son; some have shown dramatic results, others no results whatsoever. Although Andy is still extremely affected by autism, he is far from the zombie he had been at his worst. The greatest improvement came precisely three days after we started the first intervention — putting him on a gluten-free, casein-free diet. That was when he gave me the first hug he had given anyone in months. I haven’t the words to describe how powerful that moment was for me, but I wrote this story in part to try to convey both the depths of helplessness I had felt leading up to that point and the elation that can result from a simple hug. (Incidentally, I had been fortunate in that my son’s neurologist pointed me to Temple Grandin’s books right after he confirmed Andy’s diagnosis of autism.)

I discovered that, as mentioned in the story, there are a plethora of therapies available which range from very beneficial to pure quackery; many are in a grey area somewhere in between. Please do not assume that inclusion of a therapy in this story is an endorsement of that therapy; I tried to mention therapies of varying effectiveness to keep the story more true to life. Also, what helps one child might not help another. The two pieces of advice that I think everyone in the autism community would agree upon are: 1) Do your research, and 2) Start as early as possible whatever interventions your research leads you to believe are appropriate. (Well, actually, it is best to stagger the starts of interventions so that you would have a better idea of which one was proving to be effective.) The importance of early intervention cannot be overstated.

Please note that, while I have tried to be at least somewhat balanced in this story, I have touched upon several very controversial topics. Among them, whether vaccine injury causes or contributes to the severity of autism in at least some cases, whether biomedical interventions are effective, to what extent environment vs. genetics is responsible for autism, and even whether people with autism should be seen as having a medical condition which should be treated/alleviated as much as possible or whether they should instead simply be respected as having neurological differences. I’m sure my views on at least some of these topics will be easy to discern, but I did try to be fair to “the other side” in each issue.

Also be aware that Dr. Connolly was a bit old-fashioned; his advice to institutionalize Todd would have been more likely to have been given by a doctor decades earlier, when it was thought that autism was caused by “refrigerator mothers.” (<shudder>. Thank God we’ve come a long way since then.)

References

http://articles.sfgate.com/2003-05-14/news/17491408_1_autistic-children-autism-neurodevelopmental-disorders

http://templegrandin.com/templehome.html

I am purposely refraining from posting references to any interventions, but I would be more than happy to share those with anyone who asks. Also, if anyone wishes to know more about autism or what it is like for me to raise a child on the spectrum, I would be happy to answer any questions.

Despair

By Mouserocks <mouserocksnerd@gmail.com>

Rated: PG-13 for major angst and drama

Submitted: March 2012

Summary: This takes place almost two years after the end of season four. Lois has died six months prior to this piece while she was pregnant. Clark is in despair, and this is his first day back to work since she’s been gone. This is the alternate (and somewhat happier) ending for “Distraught.”

A/N Takes place almost two years after the end of season four. Lois has died six months prior to this piece while she was pregnant. Clark is in despair, and this is his first day back to work since she’s been gone. This is the alternate (and somewhat happier) ending for my other tale “Distraught.” Not entirely necessary for you to have read that one first, but it would give you a better impression. This tale picks up after Clark leaves the Lanes’ apartment, and goes a slightly different route from there.

A/N: WHAM warning. I wrote this in an extreme fit of depression, so only I can take the blame for the events that happened in this story. I apologize if this offends anybody. Do not read if you think this may be a trigger or if you are uncomfortable with the topic of depression or suicide. I don’t however own any of the people or places represented in this story. They are owned by Warner Brothers and DC.

***

Clark stood before his counter, staring at the lead box. It was just sitting there, innocuously — for the time being, anyways. The second he opened the lid, it would not be so innocuous, he knew.

His eyes burned with how many tears he had shed today and the tears he still had yet to shed.

He still couldn’t believe it. Perry White knew the truth. He’d finally had the gumption to tell him. And Lois’ parents. They knew now too. Part of Clark was still shocked at himself for revealing so much — after all, it was ingrained in his core to never tell anyone the secret. And yet he had done it. Briefly Clark marveled at how far gone he must really be.

This was not, in fact, how he’d imagined his day going. Actually, he had hoped it would go much better than this. That’s why he’d gone to the Planet.

No one had expected him to be at work today. Sure, it had been six months — but Clark knew very well that Perry was giving him as much time as he possibly needed or wanted off from work. After Lois and the baby had died, no one had wanted to leave his side. His parents had stayed with him for three straight months, with the occasional fly-out for Clark to stay at their place with them. And they showed up just about every other week as it was now, so it wasn’t like he was alone often. As it was, they had just been here this last weekend. Not to mention the fact that Perry and Jimmy dropped by periodically — Jimmy more often, usually with pizza and a movie. Even Lois’s parents were at their — his, he corrected — home oft times, checking in on Clark, not letting him slip out of their sight for a moment longer than necessary for fear that it would mean his life.

Even Superman had dropped off the face of the earth for about four months. In fact, the only reason he even donned the cape at all was because it was a large scale disaster — several tornados had torn through his home state, and Clark was finally prompted into action. There was large speculation about why, but Clark never hung around long enough to give a quote of any sort — Lois Lane and Lois Lane only could write articles about Superman. Only she would ever get a full scale, accurate interview- and Lois would never be there to do that again.

To his parents, the fact that Superman had returned was a good sign. A sign that they could breathe easy once again. Superman was back. Nothing to it anymore — oh, sure, they still worried. But the future didn’t look so bleak.

To Clark, Superman’s return put the nail in his coffin. It was hard — beyond hard — it was excruciatingly painful to spin into the suit and fly off at any given moment, without Lois there to provide an excuse, without her dangling over yet never falling into the jaws of death, without her there to come home to.

When Superman returned, that was when Clark had started planning. Putting on smiles, making an effort to appear all right. Making things perfect. Slowly gathering up his supplies — two weeks ago he broke into Star Labs and stole the lead box and the items within it. The box sitting before him now.

He hadn’t known when would be the right time. Every time his mind had wandered back to this lead box that was stuffed in the back of his closet, something else had come up. Someone would call for Superman’s help, the phone would ring, someone would come over, or he would be prompted to write an article with the information Jimmy or Perry would send him- asking ever so carefully and politely if he “felt so inclined” to take a look at this information, or write this op-ed piece, all from home.

Clark allowed himself a small laugh at that. Perry had taken him off of op-ed pieces ever since he wrote one about a new children’s park and given it a rather bleak outlook. Okay, it had been more along the lines of a very dark slant. Perry had emailed him later on that, while the piece was very well written, it lacked a certain amount of fluff for the Sunday paper, and he was going to have Ralph add some stuff to it. Clark had opened the paper up on Sunday to find he shared a byline with Ralph on the article — and Clark hadn’t written a word of it.

The first surprise Clark had given his boss was when he turned in, completely out of his own volition, an article about Superman. In fact, the only article that anyone had been able to get about Superman. About a month ago, now. When Perry had asked him how he got it, Clark had lied, saying he was walking aimlessly about Metropolis when he’d ran into him mid-rescue, and feeling the impulse to get something out of it for the Daily Planet, had stuck around to see what happened. He told Perry that Superman approached him afterwards, and gave him a look of pity and a couple of quotes.

That part wasn’t so much of a lie. Clark often gave himself looks of pity and mostly distaste. Every time he stepped in front of a mirror.

But Clark knew the biggest surprise had been when he’d returned to work today. No one had seen that coming. Even Clark hadn’t expected it from himself — but the second he walked through that bullpen and saw Lois’s desk, he knew exactly why he had done it.

He did it because today was the day.

It was the right time. Going into the Planet this morning had shocked him — and he realized that he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t someday find himself at his desk at the Daily Planet, without Lois, just working tirelessly at his desk as he used to. He couldn’t just go out and get quotes for articles, interview people — even go get a coffee — without Lois being at his side. He didn’t think he would ever recover that much.

And so, here he was. Clark checked his wristwatch — five minutes. Five minutes and his suicide letter-email would be sent out to everyone whom he thought deserved it. Five minutes to do the deed. He hoped Perry would be able to find the obit — which was more along the lines of a full-blown article — on his computer all right. For a moment, he considered whether or not he should have left that there. Maybe he shouldn’t have said he was Superman — let the public guess, draw their own conclusions — but no. He did not want to perpetuate his lies even through his death. The world would have to know. They would have to learn to let go of their dependence on their savior — he couldn’t let them believe that even though Superman hadn’t been seen in a while, that maybe he’d come back, just this once, just for them… No. He couldn’t do that to them. The people deserved to know.

Clark breathed in deeply. His hands hovered above the latches to open the box, not moving to open it as he let everything, all his memories, the faces of the people he knew and loved, flood through his mind. When his mind finally rested on Lois’s face, he popped the lid.

Immediately he was washed over with a strong sense of pain — so much so that it almost knocked him back a step. But it did not — could not — equal the amount of emotional turmoil he was in right now. Clark neared the box again and perused his choice of weapons. Before him sat a shard of pure kryptonite — which, if he so chose, he could use as a dagger. He allowed his fingers to graze over it briefly, before feeling burned and quickly removing his hand. Now that was problematic. He couldn’t very well stab himself if he couldn’t even pick up the weapon to do the deed.

Clark shook his head, wincing as he felt his head throb when he did so, and moved on. He picked up the vial of liquid and examined its glowing, green contents. This would work, he thought to himself. Poetic- Lois and their son had died in a much similar fashion of kryptonite poisoning. He nodded to himself. Yes, this will do.

Clark slowly began to walk away with the vial in hand — when an insistent-sounding knock sounded on the door, causing him to jump and drop it. The vial shattered upon impact with the ground — Clark’s reflexes not being quick enough to catch with his exposure to kryptonite. Some of the liquid splattered onto his hands at his desperate attempt to grab it, and he recoiled in pain at the burning sensation — a scalding heat that seemed to sear straight through his skin and into his blood stream. He attempted to dry his hands off on his pants. The burning sensation remained. Clark swore and scrambled back to the box, removing the gun and holding it firmly in his hands.

There was another knock on the door, this time accompanied by Perry White’s gruff voice. “Kent? Kent?! KENT! If you don’t open this goddamn door soon, I’m gonna have a fit — hell, I’ll bring the entire Metropolis police force down on your ass just to get this door open!! Clark Kent, do you hear me?”

The door handle jiggled, followed by a frustrated response by Jimmy. “Chief, stop shaking the door! I can’t get it open if you keep doing—”

“Try harder. KENT!”

Clark’s eyes widened as he realized they were trying — and with Jimmy’s skill as a lock picker — most likely going to succeed at getting inside, whether he liked it or not. He trembled. No. They couldn’t stop him. There was nothing stopping him anymore. He looked at the weapon he held in his hands, trembling all over — half from pain of kryptonite exposure, and half from fear.

Fear? Had he really just thought that? Clark had believed there was nothing left to fear — certainly not death. Not when Lois was gone already. No, fear of being stopped. Of being found, he justified his reaction.

Sweat broke out on his brow- likely from the kryptonite exposure. Nothing else. He raised the offending weapon to his temple and rested it there for a moment, closing his eyes briefly. He focused on the feel of the cold gun metal against his feverish skin, reveling in it. It was like a splash of cold water, a grip on reality. And with the feeling came a strong sense of clarity that had abandoned Clark ever since Lois had died.

Suddenly the door burst open and Perry White stormed through leaving a very surprised looking Jimmy behind him. Perry froze in horror at the sight of the young man before him. Clark stood facing his counter, so that Perry could just make out his profile as he stood there, gun pressed to the temple of his forehead, hands trembling and eyes shut tightly against the pain.

Perry had seen some pretty harrowing things in his lifetime. But he swore to himself, nothing would ever perturb him more than this image, even if he lived as long as Superman would.

Provided Superman didn’t end things right now.

Perry swallowed hard. Clark hadn’t pulled the trigger yet, even though he’d had the time. He took that as a good sign and tentatively spoke. “Clark.”

Clark was struggling to remain on task, but Perry’s firm yet careful voice sliced through his mind. His mind was swirling, and it was only a firm determination that kept him standing on his own two feet. What he really wanted to be doing was curling up into a ball on the floor in pain — a pain that had gone beyond a mild irritation now, and had settled deep into his bones.

“Clark,” Perry repeated. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Clark heard the genuine fright and concern in Perry’s voice. But most of all, it was the simplicity of his words that had shocked him. Four words that made him actually think about what he was doing. The cold clarity had returned to him, and for a moment he saw what he was doing, saw how despicable it was. How despicable he was. He was a terrible person. He didn’t deserve to have people care about him so. He didn’t deserve to live.

“Please,” Perry reiterated upon seeing the younger man set his jaw firmly. Clark’s eyes still hadn’t opened since Perry had walked into the room, but he could still see the arguments that Clark was having with himself. Perry had known the man long enough now to know exactly when he was thinking and his precise thought process.

Clark swallowed hard, still opting to not open his eyes. If only Perry weren’t here, or Jimmy. There would have been no hesitation on his part. Then he wouldn’t have to think about it, about the effect it might have on them to have to experience it, let alone watch it happen. That struck him suddenly, and once again was filled with a mixture of sadness and self-loathing. What would this do to everyone around him? Perry, Jimmy — his parents? What would the world think when they’d discovered Superman had committed suicide? He had forced himself past the issue before, but couldn’t help but face the facts now. Clark grasped the gun in his hand tighter — if he didn’t, he feared it would slip out of his hands, he was shaking so much.

“You don’t have to do this, son.”

Clark breathed as deeply as possible, a sharp pain entering his lungs along with the necessary oxygen. I’ll just be back here in a week, he thought to himself. He heard Perry take in a sharp breath, and was finally prompted to open his eyes and seek out his boss, not removing the barrel of the gun even a hair away. He realized all too soon that he had spoken his sentiments aloud. I must be really out of it, he actually thought this time. The dry feeling in his mouth and the dizziness confirmed that fact for him.

Perry stared into the young reporter’s eyes and noticed for the first time in his life how tortured and haunted they were. Broken, he thought. Clark Kent was broken. The pressure of being Superman, coupled with the deaths of Lois and their baby boy, had destroyed Clark. Suddenly he felt as if he saw things through Clark’s eyes, and recognized the why. Clark Kent had died when Lois had. All the man felt he had to do was finish the job. Perry became even more horrified at the realization. What could he do to convince a dying man that life was worth living?

Suddenly Sam and Ellen Lane raced up, breathless. Jimmy threw his arm out to keep them from entering the room and frightening Clark off, but it didn’t matter. They were both frozen stock still, staring past the form of Perry White to the look of the tortured man with a gun against his skull. Our son-in-law. Sam Lane swallowed hard. If it had been anything other than a gun, he would have been able to do something. If it was poison, he could have tried to administer an antidote- anything he could have tried to fix. With a gun, it could all be over in less than a second.

Clark’s eyes registered their arrival, and subconsciously he grazed his finger lightly against the trigger. He could no longer hear everyone’s heartbeats skip, or the catch in their breaths. But he could vaguely see the recognition of danger in each one’s expression — his vision was blurred by tears and a stinging pain.

“Please, Clark. Don’t. For us.”

Clark turned his eyes to look at the young photographer. Jimmy’s words sounded as haunted as he felt. Clark’s gut clenched up. Jimmy was like a brother to him, and his best friend at that. He trembled violently now, fighting with himself, begging his inner self for some sort of release from this emotional bondage while at the same time trying to physically wrest the gun away. He fell to his knees, weak from the long term exposure to the kryptonite that sat in the open lead box. Now and only now, Clark felt his arm drop with the gun loosely held in his shaking hand. He stared at the weapon for a few excruciatingly long moments.

Finally, Clark turned his eyes to his boss’s once more, looking sadder and in more pain now than he had ever felt before. He whispered his next words.

“Help me.”

Then the world went black.

***

Ralph sat at his desk at work, bored out of his mind. He had just finished his article, and Perry and Jimmy had run off after Clark, so he officially had nothing left to do. He took a sip of his coffee, and prepared to open up a game of solitaire when suddenly a message popped up in the corner of his screen saying that he had one new email. Shrugging, he clicked on the box, and opened his email. He frowned at seeing the name attached and glanced at Clark Kent’s desk. The man wasn’t even here. He shrugged it off again, and it opened.

As he read the short message, he suddenly gasped and dropped his coffee mug, where it spilled and shattered on the floor beneath him. The people in his area looked at him briefly, wondering what was going on. Ralph continued to stare at his computer screen and brought his hand up to cover his mouth, eyes widening in horror as he reread it. “Holy. ..” he trailed off before suddenly jumping out of his seat. He couldn’t sit still. Not after discovering something so horrifying. It suddenly didn’t seem right that a moment ago he had been bored out of his mind and ready to play a stupid game.

Not when Clark Kent had just declared himself dead by suicide.

His mouth went dry and Ralph turned to the nearest person. “Gil, did you get an email from Kent?”

The man turned and looked at his inbox. “Uh, yeah, I did. Let’s see what the poor guy said — “

“Don’t bother. Call MPD. Now.”

“What?”

“Now.” Gasps started flying up around the office as more and more people began reading Clark’s suicide note, and everyone began moving about frantically at the realization that it might very well be true.

Ralph heard his own heartbeat against his eardrums, and he had to strain to listen as Gil finished his call to the police. “How long ago? Okay. Yes, yes I know. All right then. Thank you.” He hung up and looked at Ralph with a notable amount of fear in his eyes. “She said they’ve already had a call to head out to that area and sent a team out there along with a medical crew.”

Ralph felt his eyes widen. So it was true. He looked around the office and suddenly realized everyone had been trying to listen to the phone call. The bullpen sat in still silence, the realization sinking in.

Clark Kent had committed suicide.

***

The heart monitors in the room began beeping wildly. Perry White shot straight up in his chair, suddenly alert. He watched Clark as his form began to shake and tremble and he tried to fidget restlessly out of the leather straps that bound his wrists. A doctor rushed into the room to make sure everything was all right.

Clark had worked himself into a full blown panic. His eyes roved endlessly behind his closed lids, and he felt as though his heart was going to pound straight out of his chest. “N-no,” he muttered. “Nnn. .. no… L-Lo… LOIS!” He suddenly shouted and pulled his eyes open and himself up into as much of a sitting position as possible.

Clark blinked a couple of times to get used to his surroundings. A doctor was hovering over him in mild shock. Perry was sitting on the edge of his seat, leaning forward out of concern. Clark felt his heart slow down and managed to bring his ragged breathing under control. He tried to put his head in his bandaged hands, but found them bound to the sides of the bed. A look of confusion spread across his brow as he tugged against the straps. Nothing happened.

Suddenly a look of fear spread across his face. His eyes darted around the room, as though in search for kryptonite. He started to panic again.

“Kent,” Perry’s voice soothed. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on Clark’s bandaged one. “It’s all right. Calm down. You’re all right.”

The heart beat on the monitor slowed down dramatically as Clark nodded and tried to bring himself under control, to the point of his heartbeat almost being nonexistent. Clark lay back down, mind unsettled. He closed his eyes, leaving Perry wondering if he had fallen asleep. The editor stood and moved as if to leave the room.

“Perry?”

Perry turned around to face the haggard-looking man in the hospital bed. His eyes remained closed. “Yes, Clark?”

There was a long pause before his eyes fluttered open and those dark brown irises stared up at him. Perry swallowed. They didn’t seem as haunted as they had last night. “Thank you,” Clark whispered, voice hoarse.

Perry felt his heart break and nodded, eyes tearing up. “No problem.” He looked to the floor, both of them just thinking about the incongruity of it all. “I’ll just… um, go get Dr. Klein and tell him you’re awake. Oh, and, uh, your parents are here, too.”

Panic flashed in Clark’s eyes before it subsided and he nodded.

Perry nodded in response. “Right. So. I’ll just go get them then.” He tapped the door jamb twice before leaving the room.

Clark sighed and relaxed as best he could into the uncomfortable bed. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing his mind to wander, mulling over all that had happened last night.

“Clark?” a soft, familiar voice called out to him.

Clark opened his eyes and saw his parents standing in the doorway, eyes puffy and red. His mother had tears staining her cheeks, and even Jonathan’s eyes had become wet at seeing Clark like this. Clark could see the fear, the pain standing out in their eyes, and he immediately realized how terrible a thing he had been planning on doing. Lois was like their daughter, too, and it was their grandson who had died. They were hurting as much as he was. He couldn’t hurt them any worse.

After all, Clark knew what it was like to lose a son.

Clark swallowed past the lump in his throat before making an effort to speak. “Mom?”

She rushed toward him and embraced him in the fiercest hug he had ever known. He tried to return it best he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her shoulder, and in response she squeezed him tighter. His father came up and set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It would be all right.

***

Two Years Later

Clark sat at his desk at the Daily Planet, finishing typing up his story before printing it out. “Come on,” he muttered to himself as the printer slowly spit out his document. His phone rang and he sighed as he picked it up. “Clark Kent, Daily Planet.” He listened intently to the mysterious source on the line, jotting down notes as he did so, and nodded as the conversation finished. “Well thank you very much. I’ll run this by my employer.”

It took everything in Clark to speak evenly and end the call without revealing to the source just how important this information could be, in the right hands. Clark jumped up out of his seat and made his way over to Perry White’s office, notepad in hand. He nearly knocked Jimmy over in the process.

“Whoa, CK, watch where you’re heading.”

“Sorry Jimmy.” Clark kept moving. Jimmy shouted after him.

“Wait, Clark, don’t interrupt Perry — he threw me out once already—”

Clark just waved him off as he burst into Perry’s office without even knocking. “Chief, I think we oughta check out this lead more. You remember the Vanderworth case? I just got a call from a source and he says—”

“Kent,” Perry growled. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” He gestured to the pretty brunette woman sitting in the chair nervously. Clark quickly surmised that this was a job interview and shut his mouth promptly.

“Oh. Sorry.” Clark stood there still, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t just let this chance slip away. It had a lot of potential. Even some Superman potential. He looked expectantly at Perry.

Perry sighed. “Clark Kent, meet Laurel Carter.”

She stood awkwardly and outstretched her hand eagerly. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve read most your work.”

Clark shook it, thinking briefly how pretty she was before shaking that thought from his head. “Nice to meet you too, Miss Carter.” Then he turned back to Perry White, glancing back at the woman every now and then. “Anyways, Chief, so this guy says that some of the evidence in the first round of trials was forged and—”

“Clark, what happened to that other article you were working on, the one about the car remodel—”

“Already done, Chief.” He tossed the copy he’d just printed onto Perry’s desk.

“Now listen here, Kent, I—”

Clark suddenly got a far off look that Perry recognized as his listening pose. He cast one last glance at the woman with a smile. “Gotta run, Chief. Miss,” he nodded her direction before bolting out the door.

Perry sighed, before throwing out for good measure, “And don’t call me Chief!” He smiled at the young woman who was curiously staring at Clark’s receding back. “If that man wasn’t… the, uh, best reporter I’ve got…” Perry froze and looked into the woman’s hopeful face. A feeling of deja vu washed over him, and something clicked in his mind as he watched her expression. He had to be picky with his staff members, he knew, and he didn’t have much room for hire — but he had been pleasantly surprised before. Besides, the look on Laurel’s face showed that she had some obvious interest in the reporter — and by how many times Clark had glanced her way during the brief time he’d been in here… let’s just say it went beyond mere politeness. Perry thought a moment, looking over her references and credentials. Finally he sighed, deciding to test her. All she needed was one trait. One trait he was looking for…

“Look, Miss Carter, I understand that you want a job here, but great shades of Elvis! You’re aiming pretty high. I have lots of reporters out there with a lot more experience than you’ve got, and they’re secure in their sources and don’t stop at the first sign of danger. What do you think you have that I can’t find in any other… hack reporter?” His lips twitched at using the term.

A fire ignited in her eyes. “Look, Mr. White, I might not have the same amount of experience as… as Mr. Kent there, but you can bet your ass and my paycheck that I’ll be worth my weight. I’m a damn good writer and I’m not afraid to live on the edge and I won’t give up.”

She suddenly seemed to remember herself and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, frowning slightly. Right as she was about to open her mouth again to protest, Perry White grinned.

“Damn, you’re a spitfire.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

His grin widened. “No, that’s a good thing. Our office has been missing exactly that sort of spirit for… well, for too long.” He sorted through some papers on his desk, passing her one. “Look into this. Bring me back an article by Friday and if I find it successful, you’ve got yourself a job.”

She positively beamed. “Thank you, Mr. White! Thank you so much.”

He held out his hand for a shake. “No problem, Carter. Oh, and Carter?” She turned at the doorway. He tried to hide his smile.

“Welcome to the Daily Planet.”

As she smiled and bolted from his office, Perry let out a laugh at the irony of it all. Maybe, just maybe, this would work out.

THE END

Contractually Bound

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: June 2012

Summary: They say that the first year of marriage is the hardest. No statement is ever truer than when Kal-El, Prince of Krypton, is forced into a marriage that he never knew about. But it may just be the best thing that has ever happened to him, if he only lets it be. An alternate universe story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing. All characters, plot points, and recognizable dialogue belong to DC comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions and anyone else with a stake in the Superman Franchise. I don’t own Ruce A’ne either. He too, belongs to DC comics and anyone else with a stake in the Batman franchise. I do, however, own Fasa, who is modeled (mostly) on my orange tabby, Mufasa.

Author’s Note: This plot bunny was spawned by a discussion on the Lois and Clark fanfiction message boards, speculating on what might happen if Lois and Clark were forced into a marriage for some reason or another. Of course, my muse immediately rubbed her hands gleefully together and went to work on the idea. For this story, please imagine Krypton as resembling Earth, but as being way more technologically advanced. Their society, however, is more archaic, with lords and a common class, and one Supreme Lord of the planet.

Kudos: To Female Hawk, for giving me the idea to set this on Krypton, thanks to her wonderful story, “The Wedlock Wall.”

Extra Love And Thanks: Go out to AntiKryptonite, for being the world’s best, and most patient, beta reader! Thanks hun! As always, your suggestions have made my work so much better.

***

Prince Kal-El strolled down the worn dirt pathway, hands swinging slightly at his sides. A gentle, warm breeze caressed him as he walked, and the fresh smell of rain-washed soil filled his nostrils. He breathed deeply, enjoying the scent, and a smile crossed his lips. Trees lined the path to either side, forming a sort of green, leafy tunnel for him to walk through. Some sunlight filtered through the branches above, dappling the ground with patches of shadows and light. Birds chirped all around, their myriad voices bringing another smile to the prince’s lips. He began to whistle a little tune of his own.

The attack came without warning.

Two figures jumped from the trees as Kal passed beneath a strong oak and a sturdy maple. The prince planted his feet, instantly assuming a battle stance. Just two attackers. He could do this. In fact, he shouldn’t have any real problem with this fight. Not against these two, at any rate.

The first man came at him. Kal sidestepped at the last second, ducked, and rushed headfirst into the gut of the other man. He caught the man off guard. His attacker doubled over, the wind knocked from him. Kal spun to face the first attacker. The man ran at the prince again. Kal let him come. At the last moment, Kal shifted his position. Instead of crashing into Kal, the man found himself caught in the prince’s grasp. Kal used the momentum to flip the man. The attacker hit the ground, flat on his back. A grunt escaped him as he hit the dirt. The second man had recovered by now and the prince spun to meet him. The man brought his arm back to slug the prince, but Kal was aware of his intentions. He deftly caught the fist in his palm, squeezed tight, and twisted the man’s wrist until he yelped in pain. Kal swept his foot around in the same instant, bringing it behind the man’s knees. The man stumbled and fell as Kal released his grip on his fist.

Kal grabbed a low hanging branch from the maple tree. He swung his body back and forth, until he had the momentum that he wanted. With a final push forward, he launched himself at the younger of the two attackers. His feet firmly collided with the man’s chest, sending him flying backwards. The man hit the ground with a heavy thud and a groan. The older of the two men threw himself at Kal’s legs. Kal fell forward, hitting the ground face first. He kicked hard, trying to shake the man. His right foot caught the man in his shoulder, and the man grunted with pain. It was enough to break the man’s grip on Kal’s legs. Kal scrambled quickly to his feet. He was about to launch another attack when a deep voice spoke out.

“End simulation.”

The world around Kal and his attackers shimmered and vanished. Kal and the others froze in their tracks, breathing hard. They were no longer in the sunny outdoors. Instead, they found themselves looking at the stark gymnasium in the basement level of the Supreme Lord’s palace. Beyond the walls, thunder rumbled in the night and rain lashed at the high windows. A flicker of lightning briefly illuminated the night. All three of the men looked up to see the Supreme Lord of Krypton, their father, Jor-El. He was watching them intently, but no expression showed on his face.

“Dad?” Kal asked as he reached down to help his older brother, Ching, from the thick black mats that lined the floor. Ching took the proffered hand as he hauled himself to his feet. “We were just having a little fun.”

“I know you were. And I dislike interrupting. But, Kal, I need to speak with you,” Jor-El said simply. His voice gave nothing away. “Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in my chambers.”

“Is everything all right?” Kal asked, concerned.

He could usually tell from his father’s voice if he was in a good mood or not, but this time, he had nothing to go on. It worried him more than if he knew for a certainty that his father was mad.

Jor-El nodded. “There is a matter which I need to discuss with you. I would rather not get into it here. I know that you’ll probably tell these two as soon as we are finished speaking. You always do. But I’d rather that you and I discuss things in private first.”

Kal nodded in return, swallowing around the sudden lump of fear that had formed in his throat. “I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.”

Jor-El turned and swiftly exited the room. Kal turned to his younger half-brother, Jai, and helped him to his feet as well. Jai dusted himself off and rearranged his shirt, which had twisted around his body somewhat in the fight. He grimaced as he watched Jor-El’s retreating form.

“Wonder what Dad wants,” Jai said, wondering aloud. “I couldn’t tell if it was something good or bad.”

“Me neither,” Kal sighed. “And that worries me.”

“Well, better you than me,” Jai said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Kal laughed despite himself and slapped Jai on the back. “Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime.” Jai winked at him.

“Best not to keep him waiting,” Ching said, rubbing his shoulder where Kal had kicked him. “Let’s hit the showers.”

Together, the three brothers exited the gymnasium and meandered through the rest of the gym facility. Only a few machines were still in use this late in the evening. A few of the Council Elders still remained. Ken Tai was busy with a set of weights while Trey leisurely strolled on a treadmill, his gaze fixed on one of the video monitors that hung from the ceiling. A couple of the palace security guards were talking idly while they worked their arms and legs on some of the other machines. Kal didn’t care to look and see who else was there. His mind was a hundred miles away. What could his father possibly want to speak with him about? He sighed softly and followed Ching’s lead to the locker room. As if on autopilot, he barely registered as he unlocked his private locker, gathered his things, and headed into the shower.

“You pulled a few good moves in our fight, Kal,” Ching said approvingly over the splash of the water.

“Thanks,” Kal replied, lathering his ebony hair with shampoo, then rinsing it out again. “Told you I could take you both on and win.”

“I’d hardly call that winning,” Ching said, his voice echoing from the neighboring shower stall.

“I had you both flat out on your backs,” Kal said, defending his victory. “We’ve always agreed that disabling the attackers constitutes winning.”

“I agree with Ching,” Jai said, from the stall on the other side of Kal. “If Dad hadn’t come in and stopped us, we would have beaten you. I still had plenty of fight left in me.”

Kal snorted slightly to himself in amusement. The way he saw it, he’d had both of his attackers on the ground. Had it been a real fight, he would have simply knocked them both unconscious and fled the scene, or he would have found some way to bind them tightly and have the palace security or perhaps the army take them away. He’d have to schedule another mock battle with his brothers soon, he decided. Then he’d prove them wrong with a decisive victory. Though all three had served in Krypton’s military, Kal was by far the strongest of them, though not the most aggressive. He’d actually been relieved when a knee injury two years ago had forced his early release from the military. He still trained his body like a soldier, and although his knee had since healed, too much stress on the joint still occasionally gave him some trouble with it.

“Just you wait,” he said, his voice a teasing promise. “Next time there will be no dispute over the winner.” He reached for the soap and tweaked the temperature of the water so that it was as hot as he could stand.

“Fifty gold coins say that Ching and I wipe the floor with you,” Jai said. Kal could just picture the big, goofy grin plastered on Jai’s face.

“You’re on,” Kal said with a laugh. “Easiest fifty coins I’ll make.”

Kal kept his voice as light and airy as he could manage. Inside, though, he was nervous. He kept hearing his father’s voice in his mind, the words replaying over and over. His eyes barely saw his surroundings. Instead, he saw only Jor-El’s expressionless face. A deep sense of foreboding pervaded Kal’s entire body as he decided that his father couldn’t possibly be waiting to give him any sort of good news. If he had, there would have been at least a hint of a smile or sparkle in his eyes. Kal would have heard the laughter coloring the edges of Jor-El’s words. No, Kal was certain that bad news was coming. He just wished that he could figure out what that news might be in regards to, so that he might be able to prepare himself.

Kal gave his body a final rinse, then turned the water off and swiftly dried and dressed. Moving out of the shower room, he scrutinized his appearance in a mirror. He finger combed a few locks of hair into place and smoothed down a small crease on his shirt. A fine shadow of stubble had sprouted on his cheeks and chin; he’d get to them in the morning. He wasn’t sure that he trusted himself with a razor blade at the moment; his hands were shaking ever so slightly as he worried over his imminent meeting with his father. Finally satisfied, he made ready to leave the room, throwing his sweaty clothing into the laundry chute and relocking his locker.

“Hey,” Jai said, poking out from the shower room and towel drying his hair. “You’ll let us know how things turn out, right?”

Kal couldn’t help but to smile at his half-brother. “Don’t I always?”

“Good. You know you can talk to me any time, day or night. My door is always open.” He paused. “Except for tonight. I’ve got Nita coming tonight.”

Kal shook his head. “Another concubine? Jai…”

“Hey,” Jai said, a little defensively, “just because you and Ching choose not to partake of the professional care services, doesn’t mean that I have to follow suit.”

Kal shook his head again. It was no use arguing with Jai; he and Ching had already had this same argument with their brother numerous times, and had never gotten anywhere. Although Jai himself was son of Jor-El and one of the concubines, a Mia O’sen, Jai had never seen anything wrong with taking full advantage of the women that the palace kept on staff for the lords’ pleasures. At least, Kal thought to himself, his mother, Lara, had taken Jai in like one of her own after Mia had died birthing the half-prince. Kal smiled wistfully at the memory of his mother. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe that it had already been twelve years since her own passing.

“I know. I know,” he said, placating his brother. “See you in the morning then.”

The prince made good time as he set a quick, purposeful stride through the palace. It was far better just to man up and face whatever his father had to discuss with him. Stalling for time would only make things worse for him in the long run. Before long, he reached the door to his father’s private chambers, on the uppermost level of the palace. He hesitated for a long minute, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. Finally, he gathered up enough courage and knocked resolutely on the door.

“Enter,” he heard his father’s muffled voice say from beyond the thick wood.

Kal took a deep breath, steadied himself, and released the breath again. He firmly grasped the handle and pulled the door open. Holding his head high, he crossed the threshold into the Supreme Lord’s living quarters. Jor-El sat before him in a plush, high backed armchair, in front of his large fireplace. A cheerful fire blazed merrily in the hearth. As Kal watched, his father gently closed the book he’d been reading and set it on the side table next to his chair. Jor-El sighed and Kal thought that his father seemed to have aged in the thirty or so minutes since he’d requested that Kal join him in his quarters. Concern gnawed at Kal’s mind and heart.

“I came as quickly as I could,” Kal said, bowing slightly. Never before had he felt so awkward in his father’s presence. Jor-El managed a weak, nervous smile, and Kal recognized the uncertainty behind it. That unnerved him even more. “Is everything all right, Dad?”

Jor-El nodded absently, searching for the words to begin. “Everything is fine, Kal. I’m sorry if I have worried you. I’ve been debating how best to approach this with you, and nothing has seemed right. Please, sit.”

The prince did as he was bid, and Jor-El poured him a glass of rich, dark wine from a bottle that stood on the table with his book. He passed the glass to his son. Kal swirled the liquid around and inhaled the heady scent. His eyes widened a little as he recognized the rare bouquet.

“Aged one hundred years,” Jor-El said, in response to his son’s questioning look. “Some of the finest wine ever produced.”

“This must be quite the discussion that you have planned,” Kal said guardedly.

The Supreme Lord sighed and nodded. “Kal, do you remember when you were very young, and Ching came down with a case of the Red Fever?”

Kal shook his head. “I’ve heard stories of that time, but I don’t have any memory of it. My professors used to say only that it was one of the worst epidemics ever to sweep across this planet. Hundreds of thousands died. Millions were infected before Dr. Lyne found a way to treat and cure the disease.”

Jor-El nodded. “Not one of the worst. The worst. It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember it though. You were just barely two years old at the time.”

Kal grew more concerned. “Is…there isn’t another outbreak, is there?”

His father shook his head. “No. Nothing that dire.”

Kal breathed a sigh of relief, but shook his head. “I’m afraid that I don’t understand what the Red Fever has to do with anything then.”

Jor-El’s gaze focused to some point that was a hundred miles away as he lost himself to the memory. “Ching was only six. Such a tiny child. He somehow caught the virus towards the end of that epidemic and he grew weaker by the day. I was terrified that I would lose him and that you or Jai or Lara would catch it as well. I summoned the best doctors to his aid, but none could help, though they had tried from the very first to find a way to cure the disease. I even tried to find a cure myself, but the Fever was beyond my skill to heal. Desperate to find a way to save the planet, I pleaded with Samm, though we had always been rivals. I begged him to find a way to save my boy. I begged him to find a way to save our planet. He agreed to do all that he could. He admitted that he’d already begun trying to find a cure, but that he didn’t have the resources that he needed to be of any real use. So I furnished him with a lab and all the equipment that he could possibly want or need. I pulled every able-bodied scientist and doctor to assist him. And I promised him that if he succeeded, he could have anything that he wanted. He had only to name his price, and I would gladly pay it. It took him two long, sleepless weeks, but he finally isolated the germ that was causing the illness, and found a way to kill it. Your brother was the first to receive the cure. Within a day he was as healthy as ever and was able to come out of the quarantine that we had been forced to keep him in.”

Kal nodded warily. “I don’t think that I’ve ever heard that story before.”

Jor-El continued as if Kal hadn’t spoken. He seemed completely lost to his memories. “Samm and his assistants worked around the clock to produce enough of the cure to treat all of those who remained alive. But the damage had been done. Hundreds of thousands had succumbed to the virus. When it was all over, I swore to uphold my end of the bargain. Samm could name his price. He must have known what he wanted from the very start. He never hesitated to name it when I approached him. We drew up a contract that very evening and never spoke of it again. Until now. Now the time has come for me to pay what I owe.”

Kal’s brow crinkled in confusion. “And what is it that you owe him?”

“You.”

Kal choked as he swallowed a sip of the exquisite wine. “Me?”

“At the time of the Red Fever, Samm and his wife, Elle, were expecting their first child, a girl. He wanted the child to have the best possible future. She would need to be betrothed to some noble lord’s son for that to happen. You know that the Lyne family isn’t well off, even as far as the lesser noble houses are concerned. And, I admit, I saw a personal gain in the matter. Samm had always been my rival in every way. Politics, professional matters, even in dueling matches. Lesser noble or not, he had the ear of many of the Elders. And so, I saw an opportunity to make him my ally. I did not balk at his price. We arranged a marriage between his unborn daughter and you.”

“What?” Kal asked, blinking in surprise, his mouth agape. “Why have you never told me about this?”

“I guess…I guess I always assumed that you would anticipate having a marriage arranged. It is the way of things among the nobility.”

“Yes,” Kal agreed, a hint of venom in his voice. “It does seem to be the way of the nobility. Selling their children into marriages just to improve their own business dealings.”

“Kal…you don’t understand.”

Kal shook his head, becoming angrier. “Oh, I understand perfectly well. Your back was against the wall, and since Ching was already bound to Zara since birth, you only had one son left to give away. Well, one trueborn son. You couldn’t promise away Jai. Only half his blood is royal, after all.”

“Kal…”

“But there’s something else that I just don’t get. Until tonight, I never even knew that Dr. Lyne had any children, let alone that I was to marry his daughter!”

Jor-El sighed. “He has two girls. Lois and Luci. He has no sons, a point of shame to him, as I understand it. Marrying off the girls to noblemen was his only chance of securing them a comfortable future.”

“And which am I to wed?” Kal asked in a bitter voice. He couldn’t believe that this had been kept a secret from him for so long.

“Lois.”

“Lois,” Kal said, trying the name out. It came out sounding more like a death knell than a name.

“Son, I know that I should have told you sooner. I just never really knew how to bring it up.”

“Why now?”

“Our contract stated that Lois would need to turn twenty-one before the marriage could be valid. That was today.”

Kal put down his glass of wine when he realized that his grip on it had become so tight that he was in danger of shattering the delicate crystal. He’d hardly touched the wine, and although it was one of the best that he had ever tasted, he found now that he had no desire for it. He stood and crossed the room to the large windows that overlooked the gardens. Not much could be seen in the pounding rain, though the occasional flash of lightning offered fleeting glimpses of the rain-slicked trees and shrubs. A heavy silence blanketed the room, punctuated only by the rumbling of thunder and the rain lashing the glass of the windows. Kal thought that the raging storm fit his mood perfectly.

“Mom knew of this?” Kal finally asked in a quiet voice.

Jor-El nodded, though Kal was not looking at him. “Yes.”

“And she never said anything either.” It was half a question, half a statement of fact.

“I asked her not to. I don’t think she would have known how to tell you either. She was never happy with the circumstance surrounding the contract. She felt as you do. She felt that I had all but bartered your life for Ching’s.”

“And you? Do you agree?”

Jor-El sighed as he thought. “Yes and no. I regret that things happened the way that they did. But I do not regret the match. I have met the girl you are to marry a few times when I have gone to visit with Samm. She is a rare beauty and a sweet girl. I think this match is a good thing.”

Kal snorted. “Right. Because all that matters is what the girl looks like.” His voice was hard and cynical.

“Kal,” Jor-El gently ventured after a moment.

“I want to see this contract,” Kal said, acidly cutting his father off. He turned to face him, his features hard in his anger.

The Supreme Lord nodded. “I thought that you might.”

He handed the prince a slim, leather bound folder from where it sat beneath the book he’d been reading. Kal took it and flipped it open. Just two pages were inside, written in Trey’s neat script. Kal would recognize the Elder’s handwriting anywhere. At the end, he recognized his father’s neat but sprawling signature, Dr. Lyne’s tight, spidery script, and the signatures of two of the Elders who’d borne witness to the contract. Kal turned back to the window and silently read the contract to himself, using the light of the fire to see by. He read it over three times to himself, looking for some loophole to get himself out of this undesired situation. But his heart sunk lower at each reading. The contract was iron-clad. No loophole existed.

“Kal, please say something,” his father prodded him. He sounded genuinely nervous at Kal’s silence.

“I had always thought that maybe my situation might be different,” the prince said, his back to his father as he gazed out at the storm. His voice had lost some of its venom and had turned soft and low. “I had always hoped that when it came time for me to marry, that it might be to a woman of my own choosing. Someone that I would love. I don’t want this, Father.”

“You will marry her,” the Supreme Lord said, his voice brooking no argument. “You have no choice.”

“And if I refuse?” Some of Kal’s anger began to seep back into this voice.

“Kal, I have never needed to order you to do anything. Please, don’t make me start now. You ```will marry the girl, and I will not hear any further arguments. Is that understood?”

The prince sighed and dragged his fingers through his now dry hair. “If it pleases you, I will take my leave now, Father.”

“Go,” Jor-El said, sighing in his turn, and waving towards the door. “I’m sorry, my son. Please believe that.”

Kal nodded his acknowledgement as he left the windows and came around the armchairs. He dropped the contract on the side table as though it were a poisonous snake. He stared at the flames that were dancing in the fireplace for a long, thoughtful moment.

“One last question. When will this happen? Or am I to guess at that as well?”

“In two weeks’ time.”

“What?” Kal asked, incredulous.

“In two weeks, Samm and his daughters will arrive and the ceremony will be held. I already have the palace staff on alert to make this an event to remember.”

Kal swallowed hard. He had thought for sure that he would have more time. Two weeks was hardly anything. And it seemed that he would not be given a chance to meet his bride-to-be beforehand. It was all very disturbing to the prince. He shook his head in a silent protest, then squared his shoulders and exited the room without another word. Jor-El watched him go, a look of pain crossing his features.

Through sheer willpower, Kal kept his head held high as he made his way to his own living quarters. He opened the door and entered into his living room, then shut the door behind him. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the solid wood. All of his energy seemed to drain from his body, leaving him feeling exhausted. He leaned the back of his head against the door for a few minutes and closed his eyes. His father’s words echoed in his mind. His heart was heavy. True, it wasn’t as though Kal had his heart set on marrying another. He hadn’t yet met a woman special enough to give his heart to. But to be ordered - no, sold! - into a marriage with someone he’d never met, let alone knew existed, hurt beyond words.

“I’m the second son,” he whispered to himself. “Ching should have been the only one to be matched like this. I’m only the second son. Maybe that makes my life worth less than Ching’s?”

He pushed himself from the door and moved to the bedroom where he stripped out of his clothes. He carefully put them aside and then slipped into his sleep clothes. Sighing, he moved to his favorite recliner in the living room. He glanced at the cold hearth, considered lighting a fire, then decided against it. The darkness matched his mood all too perfectly. He sat heavily in the chair and watched the storm as it continued to rage beyond the floor to ceiling windows. He sat forward in the chair and rested his head in his hands.

How had this happened? One minute, he’d been living his life exactly as he’d wanted it. He’d been carefree and happy. In the next, he’d discovered that his life had been sold for the life of his brother. He’d instantly been saddled with a life that was no longer under his own control. He didn’t regret that Dr. Lyne had been able to save Ching. He didn’t regret that the whole planet had been saved. He regretted only the price of that salvation. But what could he really do? His hands were tied. He couldn’t make a liar out of his father. Running away from the palace to pursue some anonymous life would never work. His father would employ every spy and member of the planet’s military to find him. And he couldn’t embarrass his father by refusing to show at the ceremony. Kal simply had no choice. His fate was sealed. He hoped only that being married to this stranger would be bearable.

Kal barely slept that night. He spent most of the night staring out of the windows, the same bleak thoughts churning over and over in his mind. He watched as the storm came to a raging peak, then as it tapered off and eventually died. When he did sleep, his dreams were dark and fitful.

Finally, just after dawn, he gave up on trying to sleep. He threw on some comfortable clothing and went for an early walk in the sprawling palace gardens. His brothers often teased him for spending so much time among the flowers, but Kal found the gardens to be one of the most relaxing places on the entirety of the palace grounds. He smiled a little as he left the palace and stepped into the growing sunshine. The morning was cool and crisp. It was refreshing and seemed to recharge Kal, even lifting some of the heaviness in his heart. He jogged down the footpaths to one of his favorite spots - a gently sloping hill ringed by ancient trees, though the hill’s crown was utterly bare. The green grass was springy beneath his feet as he left the stone path. He could hear and feel the mud squishing beneath his running shoes, and the scent of the damp soil invigorated him.

At the crest of the hill, he paused to look around, though he was barely winded. He threw his head back and studied the rain-washed blue of the sky and the thin white rags of clouds that were lazily drifting past. After a few moments, he continued on, making his way to another one of his favorite spots, and the place where he really wanted to be this morning. His long legs made swift work of the small distance. In no time, he found himself in the midst of the rose gardens. Roses of every color, shade, and variety grew in this section of the gardens. His mother, Lara, had been the one to plan this section, and had personally seen each bush planted. Roses had always been her favorites, and, as a result, they had also become Kal’s favorites.

Kal found a dry bench and sat. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the sweet scent of the flowers. As always, it was almost overwhelming as memories of his mother came flooding back to him. Her gentle smile. Her light, airy laugher. Her kind way of speaking. Her reassuring nature. The way that her eyes had always sparkled with a love of life and of those around her.

For the next hour, Kal sat in silence, listening to the songs of the birds nearby and breathing in the perfume that was lingering in the air. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself and his two brothers as very young children, walking with their mother or sitting on benches as she read to them or told them tales from memory. Those had been happy days. And the memories of them never failed to bring a bittersweet smile to his face. He sighed softly.

“What am I going to do, Mom?” he lamented softly, his voice barely audible, even to his own ears. “In two weeks, I’ll be forced into a marriage with a complete stranger. I don’t want this. But I don’t know what choice I have. I feel so betrayed. I feel so lost. I don’t know how to be a husband to someone I’ve never met. What if we don’t get along? What if I can’t love her? What am I going to do?”

But if Lara knew, she was silent. Kal hung his head. Often, he found that he could come to this place with his problems, and could almost hear his mother’s voice in his mind, helping him. But this time, Kal did not feel reassured. He could not imagine what his mother would have told him, if she could have.

“Kal?” Ching’s voice rang out in the morning air. “Are you here?”

“Over here,” Kal called out miserably. Ching would find him in a moment, regardless of if he spoke up or not, he knew.

Kal’s memories faded like so much mist. He no longer saw the ghosts of what had once been. Instead, he saw the solid flesh and bone of his brothers as they advanced towards him, side by side. Both of them looked concerned, with twin creases across their brows. When they reached Kal, they sat on either side of him on the bench.

“I thought we might find you here,” Ching said, looking at the roses surrounding them.

The storm had ripped some of the flowers to shreds, and their petals were plastered to the drying stone footpath. Kal’s eyes were fixed on a section of scattered red petals that lay like a pool of blood not twenty feet from where he sat.

“Congratulations. You found me,” Kal said with a sigh. He was not in a mood to joke with his brothers. He was still mourning the loss of his freedom. He stood, preparing to leave. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Sit,” Ching commanded him.

Kal shook his head. “I’d rather be alone.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Jai said, grinning impishly. “Because we intend on sticking with you today.”

“Guys…”

Jai shook his head. “Whatever Dad said to you last night must have really bothered you. What kind of brothers would Ching and I be if we let you suffer alone?”

“Yeah, it did upset me,” Kal admitted, sitting back down. “How’d you know?”

“You weren’t in your room when we came to ask what happened last night. We checked your usual haunts and found you here. Do you realize that you have certain places that you visit when you are in certain moods?” Ching said, shrugging. “When you are upset, we usually find you here.”

“I’m really that predictable?” Kal asked, surprised. He’d never really stopped to think about any patterns that he might have fallen into over the years.

Jai nodded. “You have no idea.”

“There’s a lot of happy memories here,” Ching observed. “It’s a good place to try to forget your troubles, even if only for a little while.”

Kal nodded. “It is. This might sound weird, but I feel close to Mom here. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to get over things.”

Ching nodded in return. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“So,” Jai said, swinging his legs a little. “What’s the trouble this time and how can we help?”

Kal shook his head. “This time, there’s nothing that either one of you can do.”

“There’s got to be something,” the younger man pressed.

“Not this time,” Kal repeated. “What Dad told me last night…” He shook his head. “I’m…getting married.”

“What?” the two brothers said with one voice.

“That’s what Dad wanted to talk to me about last night. He has this contract with Samm Lyne to marry me with Samm’s oldest daughter.”

“Samm has children?” Ching asked, surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“Apparently, not many people do,” Kal said, folding his hands on his lap. “Dad says that Samm has two daughters, but no sons, and is supposedly ashamed of that fact. So he doesn’t talk much about his family. And you know that he and Elle haven’t been happy together in years now.”

“Right,” Jai said, nodding thoughtfully.

“Dad’s never spoken of an arranged marriage for you before,” Ching said, troubled.

“I know,” Kal said, casting his eyes downward to study the stone footpath.

“But why would he keep a birth-wife secret?” Ching continued, confusion written on his face. “It’s not like it’s a rare practice or anything. And he was always upfront with me about Zara. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s just it,” Kal said. “Lois isn’t my birth-wife. Dad wrote up a contract to arrange this marriage when I was two years old. He promised Samm anything he wanted if only he could find a way to save you from the Red Fever. Samm wanted a good match for his unborn daughter. You were already promised to Zara. And Jai is only half a prince, no offense. So I was the one chosen to pay the price.”

“I’m sorry,” Ching said, putting a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.

“A marriage isn’t so bad,” Jai said, trying to make Kal feel better. “I mean, look at Ching and Zara. They’re happy together. Nauseatingly so, in fact.”

“We are happy,” Ching said, nodding.

“I know you guys are,” Kal said glumly. “But you grew up knowing Zara and that someday you’d be married to her. I’m getting thrown head first into this. I never knew of this marriage. I’ve never met the bride. I never even knew that the bride existed until last night. I feel like the whole world has gone upside down. And I have no idea what to do about this.”

“There’s not much that you can do,” Ching said gently. “You just have to make your peace with the situation. And try to stay opened-minded. The El family has a long history of arranged marriages that worked out well. Zara and me. Mom and Dad. Our grandparents. And so on through the line.”

“That’s all well and good,” Kal argued. “But there are plenty of arranged marriages that haven’t worked out. We’ve seen them fall apart. Samm and Elle. Lux Uthor and his late wife.” He shrugged. “Uncle Dav and Aunt Mille.”

“Kal, you’re one of the most open, caring people that I know,” Jai said, looking his older brother in the eyes. “If anyone can make this work, it’s you. I’m not just saying this either. I truly believe it.”

Kal managed a weak smile, though Jai’s words did little to make him feel better. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome. Now, when should we schedule the bachelor party for?” Jai’s grin overtook his entire face.

Kal shook his head and laughed, despite himself. “Oh no. Not on your life.”

The three stood and began to walk back to the palace for breakfast.

“Come on! I’ll get you a few of the concubines. They can show you some tricks,” Jai pressed, grinning. “Catira always asks when I’m finally going to convince you to seek out her services.”

Kal shook his head again. “No thanks. I’ll pass. You can keep the concubines to yourself.”

“Fine,” Jai huffed in mock indignation. “Go ahead and disappoint your wife on your wedding night. I won’t be held responsible for your lack of knowledge. I tried.”

Kal chuckled a little at Jai’s words, though they brought to mind another uncomfortable thought. The wedding night. How was he supposed to fulfill his marital duties with a woman that he didn’t know? It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to do. He just knew that he was already uncomfortable thinking about doing such things with a complete and utter stranger, no matter what label was given to her. He suppressed a groan of dread and followed his brothers through the palace to the main dining hall.

Jor-El was already there, speaking with Trey and some of the other Elders. Kal greeted them all by force of habit. He really wasn’t aware of what he was saying or who he was saying it to. He took his seat and kept his eyes downcast. Servants came bearing silver trays of food, and set them in front of each of the noblemen. Kal didn’t eat very much. He spent more time pushing the food around his plate with his fork. What he did eat, he barely tasted. He only had the most fleeting of impressions of scrambled eggs, thick slices of pan-fried toast, crispy bacon, and strong black coffee. The coffee was the only thing that he finished entirely. The hot beverage warmed him and seemed to take away some of the emotional chill that he was feeling. He kept his eyes downcast for the entire meal, and mercifully, Jor-El kept the Elders in conversation. No one had a chance to try to speak with Kal or notice his melancholy. That was just fine by the prince. Although the conversation at the table never ceased, Kal did not hear a single word of it.

When he could no longer pretend any interest in his food, he took his leave of the table and headed back to his rooms. Once there, he paced like a caged animal, though he took comfort in the fact that Ching and Jai hadn’t followed him just yet. Finally, he could stand being indoors no longer. He grabbed up his portable music player and strapped the small device to his left bicep. Popping in the ear buds, he swiftly made his way back outdoors. He nodded to various members of the palace staff as he went, nobles and servants alike.

Once outdoors, he chose one of his favorite playlists, then cranked up the volume and began to run. He forced out all of this thoughts and concentrated only on his breathing and movements. He let the music crash over his body and fuel his movements as though it coursed through his very veins. The old trick never failed him. It was not long before he lost himself to the music that was blaring in his ears and the slow burning of his leg muscles as he made laps through the gardens. His pace varied as he went, ranging from a slow trot when he needed to calm his heart and lungs, to a ground eating sprint after each period of rest. Soon, the prince was cloaked in a fine sheen of sweat and his clothes clung wetly to him. Mile after mile he ran, until at last his damaged knee began to protest. Regretfully, he slowed his pace and returned to the palace. But the run had done wonders for his mood. He was still unhappy at the situation he was facing, but at least he didn’t feel quite so depressed anymore. Jai’s words lingered in his brain. Could they be true? Could he make this forced marriage work?

Kal shook his head, trying to dispel his thoughts. He simply didn’t want to think about his impending nuptials. His mind, however, kept turning to his looming marriage regardless of his wishes. One thing in particular kept bothering him. Samm had often visited with Jor-El at the palace. Kal had known the good doctor all of his life. And never once had Samm ever let it slip that he was a father. Was he truly ashamed of only having girls? Kal couldn’t fathom ever being ashamed of any future children of his. Boys or girls, Kal was certain that he’d be Krypton’s proudest daddy, if and when the day ever came. It seemed heartless to feel any other way. And yet, Dr. Lyne had always seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. Kal enjoyed his visits. There had to be some other reason why Samm never spoke of his daughters. Kal just wished that he could figure out what that other reason might be.

“There you are!” Jai exclaimed as he and Ching ran into the prince in the palace hallways. “We were looking for you.”

“I went for a run,” Kal shrugged, tucking the earphones into the collar of his shirt.

“So we can see,” Ching said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“It helps me clear my head. You guys know that.”

Jai nodded. “We do. But we would have gone with you.”

Kal shook his head. “I needed to be alone for a while. But thanks.”

“Feeling any better?” the half-prince asked.

“A bit, I think. I’m not really sure,” Kal said, speaking honestly. “I still don’t like this whole thing and I’m still coming to terms with it. But I have no choice. It might be a different story if I could at least get to know Lois a little before we’re thrown into a marriage together.”

“Well, I can’t help you with that,” Ching said with an apologetic smile. “But, Jai and I are going to go into the city to have a little fun. Care to join us? It might do you some good.”

Kal nodded. “Sure. Give me twenty minutes.”

Ching grinned. “Make it fifteen, little brother.”

“Twenty-five,” Kal said, grinning as they fell into their old game.

“Ten and not a minute more.”

“Twenty and I’ll buy the first round of drinks at the bar.”

Ching snorted. “You were buying the first round anyway.”

Kal chuckled and walked off, heading back to his quarters. He showered quickly and dressed, choosing comfortable clothing that was still fit for the Supreme Lord’s son to be seen in public in. He rejoined his brothers and together they rode into the city, taking Kal’s understated vehicle. The short trip was made in relative silence.

“Here,” Kal said, to his personal attendant and driver, Jak, once the vehicle came to a stop . He handed the young man a couple of gold pieces. “Have a good afternoon. My treat.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Jak said, his eyes wide.

Kal was always generous with him, but never before had the prince dropped any amount of gold in his hands. Usually, it was a handful of coppers or a few silvers. In any case, it had always been enough to treat Jak to a movie, some drinks, or any number of things that he might want to do, buy, or see. This much gold could entertain him for several months, if not the entire year.

“Don’t mention it,” Kal said offhandedly. “You know that I appreciate your services.”

Jak nodded. “Have a good afternoon, my lord. Just call when you are ready to leave.” He patted his right pants pocket where he kept his phone.

“Thanks,” Kal said with a smile.

He turned with Ching and Jai, and together the three brothers entered into their favorite bar. Kal waved at the bartender as they took their regular table in the far corner. This early in the afternoon, the place was pretty quiet. Since the place also served pretty decent food, a few people sat enjoying an early lunch. The presence of royalty in the bar earned them a few interested glances, but no real surprise. Kal and his brothers had long ago started making their presence in the city known. They had agreed that it was better to walk among the people and see the world that they lived in first hand. How could they ever hope to lead Krypton effectively if they stayed locked behind the walls of the palace? Kal, in particular, enjoyed being among the common men and women that they ruled over. He made it a point to acquaint himself with as many of them as possible. Ching thought that was taking things a little too far. It was one thing to interact with the commoners. It was quite another to become overly friendly with them.

The manager approached their table as soon as they sat. The three gave their orders; they hardly ever veered from their usual sandwich and drink requests. The manager scurried away to fill their order, bowing profusely at the three young lords as he did so. Kal glanced around at the familiar bar, feeling relieved to be beyond the palace walls. It was always a breath of fresh air for him to be among the common people. Though his father afforded Kal and his brothers as much freedom as he could, life in the palace was sometimes far too formal and stuffy for Kal’s liking.

“Feels good to get out of the palace,” Kal said, voicing his thoughts.

Ching nodded. “It does.”

“Zara didn’t want to come?” Kal asked.

Zara sometimes liked to come along on the brothers’ excursions into the city. She didn’t always accompany them, but it had been a while since she had last tagged along. Kal didn’t mind either way. He loved Zara well enough, but sometimes it was nice just to have some time alone with his brothers.

“She…thought it best that…just the three of us go together this time,” Ching said, choosing his words carefully.

“You told her, didn’t you?”

Ching nodded warily. “I had to, Kal. The palace staff are already starting to prepare for the ceremony and feast. I thought it would be better if she heard the whole truth, not the half rumors that are floating around.”

Kal sighed. “You’re right. So…what then? She sent you two to provide me with some sort of distraction? Is that why we’re in the city today?”

Jai and Ching exchanged an uneasy glance. Kal did not miss the look and nodded in understanding.

“Are you mad?” Jai asked.

Kal sighed again. “No. In fact, in a way, it’s kind of nice to be distracted.”

Jai grinned widely. “So…what should we do first today?”

“I don’t know,” Kal said, shrugging. “I don’t mind just wandering. Anything to take my mind off what’s to come. I mean, what if I don’t like her? What if…what if she hates me?”

“Why would she hate you?” Jai asked, surprised at Kal’s concern.

“Well,” Kal said, searching for the right words, “she’s being thrown into the same situation as me. She’s never met me. What if…I don’t measure up to her expectations?”

“You’re a prince,” Ching said, shrugging. “She’ll probably feel privileged to have been chosen for you.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Look, Kal, I’m not saying that I agree with this,” Ching reassured him. “You know that I hate the idea of arranged marriages as much as you do. Still, you have to admit, the Lyne family might be well regarded, but for a noble house, they aren’t that well off. Your future wife…Lois…will be better off married to you.”

Kal made an exaggerated grimace, but did not reply as the manager approached their table again. The portly man quickly placed each of the lords’ orders before them on the table, then retreated to collect payment from two other men who had finished their meal. Kal swirled his glass of wine absent-mindedly before taking a sip. It wasn’t the refined wine served in the palace, but it was about as good as the barkeep could afford, and Kal liked it well enough.

“You know,” Jai said, swallowing a bite of his lunch, “you have a real gift for worrying. And aside from what Ching said, you’re forgetting the obvious.”

“And that is…?”

Jai spread his arms as if to embrace the room. “We are three very good looking guys. Now, sure, I’m the best looking one, but that’s beside the point.”

Kal nearly choked on his wine as a burst of laugher seized him. Jai grinned widely and Ching slapped Kal on the back.

“Jai-El, the modest,” Ching laughed.

The rest of their lunch was spent talking of happier things. Kal felt himself relaxing a bit as he and his brothers joked around. Some of his worries seemed to melt away. When he had finished, Kal stood and paid the bill despite the barkeep’s insistence that the meal was on him. Jai and Ching were into their second round of drinks, and playing a trivia game that appeared on the video screens placed around the room. Kal knew that he had at least forty-five minutes before his brothers would be ready to leave the bar, and longer if they opted for a third round of drinks. He wanted some time alone to wander the city, so he waved off Jai’s request that he stay and have another drink with them.

At last, he managed to leave his brothers behind. Exiting the bar, he lost himself among the throngs of people rushing from place to place. His pace was swift and purposeful. He was, he thought, a man on a mission. The passersby barely gave him any mind as they swirled around him to either side. A few openly stared at the prince as he walked by them. But most were too wrapped in their thoughts and private affairs to even notice the royalty in their midst. Kal barely noticed the stares. His mind was fixed on his goal. It had taken root in his mind when Jai had mentioned his gift for worrying, and had steadily grown and flowered in his mind as he had eaten his lunch. Why not try to break the ice with his bride-to-be with a gift? At first, he had been at a loss. What could he possibly give his future wife that she might like? Finally, it had hit him. How could he possibly go wrong with a piece of jewelry?

Suddenly, he found himself at the shop that he was looking for. As he entered, a small silver bell rang, alerting the owner to the presence of a customer. The owner was a tall, thin, and balding old man by the name of Len Shan. He bowed deeply when as he recognized Kal. Kal offered the man a friendly smile as he approached the counter.

“My lord, you honor me with your presence. How may I serve you today?” Len said as he bowed.

Kal took a moment as he swept his eyes around the room. The sheer volume of things to choose from was overwhelming. Gems of all shapes, sizes, and colors sparkled beneath the pristine glass cases that lined three quarters of the shop. Did he want a ring? A bracelet? A necklace? Earrings? Did Lois even have pierced ears? What about an elegant watch? An ankle bracelet? His head was already swimming, and he felt like he was in danger of drowning at any moment.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Kal admitted. “I’m looking for something special.”

“Might I be so bold as to guess that it is for the lady you are to wed?” Len asked, his eyes downcast.

Kal chuckled. “Word does spread quickly. But yes. That’s why I am here. I want something elegant, but unique. Something that isn’t overly flashy. Understated, yet brilliant and beautiful.” He sighed. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m being very helpful. In fact, I think I’m making myself even more confused than I was a minute ago.”

Len looked Kal in the eyes and smiled. “Ah, but you have been helpful, my lord. I think that together, we can find this special piece. I have many fine and rare items. Let me bring some of them out for you to see.”

Kal nodded, and the thin man began to breeze around the shop with the air of one who knows exactly where everything is. Rings, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets all appeared before the young prince with a speed that seemed incapable of coming from the aged man. Kal inspected each one of the pieces in turn. All were beautiful, but none seemed to really speak to him. One by one, he ruled each of them out. A look of apprehension flickered in the shopkeeper’s eyes. Kal sighed inwardly. This was the one thing that he disliked about being in the city. Everyone seemed to be afraid of offending the princes, as though they might order them into the city jail if they displeased the brothers.

Kal shook his head. “I’m sorry. None of these feel right to me. I thank you for your time anyway.”

Len frowned and thought. Kal turned and made ready to leave the shop.

“Wait!” Len exclaimed. “My lord! Please! I had forgotten. A new shipment of items just arrived yesterday morning. I have it in the back. I haven’t had the chance to put any of it on display yet. Perhaps there is something in that shipment that might interest you.”

Kal had turned back at the man’s call. He nodded. After all, Len Shan had a reputation of being the finest jeweler in the city, and of carrying the most unique pieces on the planet. If he didn’t have the right piece, what hope did Kal have of finding it elsewhere? Encouraged by Kal’s nod, Len swept away to the back room. A moment later, he reappeared with a heavy box. One after another, he popped open the boxes held within and placed them on the countertop before Kal. Still, nothing seemed right to the prince. He sighed lightly, becoming discouraged. Finally, Len brought out the final piece. He opened the small box and placed it before Kal for his inspection. Kal’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the piece. He knew in an instant that this was what he’d been looking for all along.

Nestled within the black velvet box was a multi-rayed star of pure white diamond. The multitude of facets caught the bright store lights and reflected it back. It seemed to flash and glow with the white fire of an actual star, plucked from the heavens and cooled into an icy crystal. It was not a huge gem, but it was all the more beautiful for its simple, petite elegance. A slender chain of the finest silver supported the tiny star. Kal nodded, breathless.

“This is it,” he finally managed to say. “It’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I’ll take it.”

“An excellent choice, my lord,” Len said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “This particular piece is the very last thing that the designer made before his death. Truly a one of a kind item.”

Kal nodded again and paid the store owner, thanking him sincerely for his help and his time, as well as his patience. Then he slipped the box into the breast pocket of his jacket, close to his heart. He only hoped that his future bride would love the necklace as much as he did.

***

The days flew by too quickly for Kal’s liking. But at last, the day of his wedding arrived, bright, sunny, and warm. It seemed that the last of the colder, rainier late spring weather had been chased away by the early summer. The bright, shining sun did little to improve Kal’s mood though. He’d never quite made his peace with being sold in marriage to Dr. Lyne’s daughter. But the bitter disappointment had boiled down to a nervousness that would not relent. For several days now, the prince had been on edge. He could barely sleep. And when he did, his dreams were fitful and dark. It left him somehow more exhausted than when he’d initially laid down to sleep. He found himself able to eat even less than he was able to sleep. His stomach roiled and lurched each time he sat down to eat. It was as though a flock of millions of butterflies had taken up residence within his abdomen, and they were restless, fluttering about every second of the day. Kal counted himself lucky if he was able to eat more than a few bites of food at any given meal. He felt as though he was surviving on coffee alone.

But that seemed like nothing compared to the nervous energy that now gripped him. The day had arrived. No amount of brooding or complaining or self distraction had managed to postpone the inevitable. He stood now in his chambers, staring at his reflection in a full length mirror. For what felt like the thousandth time, he adjusted the ceremonial robes he was wearing. He frowned and shifted the material back the way it had been sitting, then shifted it again. He was painfully aware of his appearance. Every eye on the planet would be fixed on him and on his soon-to-be wife; if not in person, then on every video monitor in every public place and private home. And, more importantly, his wife would be seeing him for the first time as the man she would be bound to for life.

He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, but found that it did little to help. He picked up his comb and fixed his hair for the fifth time that hour, brushing back the small curl of ebony hair that lay draped on his brow. He frowned, liking the look of it pushed back even less. He shook his head in frustration, and the stubborn lock of hair fell forward again. He decided to leave it be. Why should he pretend to be something he wasn’t? And slicking back his hair made him feel like a liar. Never before had he ever worn his hair like that. He combed out the look and styled it to his usual way.

“Let Lois see me as I am,” he mumbled to himself. “She deserves better than to be lied to in any way on this day.”

A knock sounded on his door. Kal took a deep breath.

“Enter,” he said after a moment.

Jai and Ching entered a second later. Both were dressed in their finest clothing, from their crisply pressed shirts, ramrod straight ties, tailored jackets, and freshly purchased pants, all the way down to the proper shine on their shoes. They were in gray, the perfect medium that tied them to the groom in black and their father in the white robes that he would be wearing. Kal was mildly jealous that they got to wear a normal shirt and pants combination, instead of the robes that made Kal feel slightly ridiculous.

“How are you holding up?” Ching asked him, as Kal fidgeted with his robes again. He leaned against the wall with his left shoulder.

“About as well as can be expected,” Kal replied, fixing his collar. His shoulders slumped for the briefest of moments. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

Ching nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“You’ll do just fine,” Jai said, giving his brother a reassuring smile. “And you look great.”

“Thanks,” Kal said, sounding more confident than he felt.

“It’s not so bad,” Ching said, trying to be helpful. “Trey will do almost all of the talking. You just have to stand there and let him perform the ceremony. The most you’ll have to do is repeat the vows after him. Then we’ll all just move onto the feast. Just try not to look so depressed. Everyone expects this to be a happy occasion.”

“Right,” Kal nodded. “This is the easy part. The hard part will come tonight when all is said and done, and Lois and I are left trying to figure out how to make this work.”

“You’ll do fine,” Ching said, echoing Jai’s words. “You’re a great guy. I’m sure Lois will love you.”

Kal looked dubious. “Easy for you to say. Zara’s been in love with you since you two were both children.”

There was another knock at the door. Jai opened it, admitting Jor-El into Kal’s chambers. Their father was dressed in the crisp white robes of the Supreme Lord’s office, the El family crest proudly emblazoned across the chest in a muted silver. It somehow seemed to compliment his strong features and salt and pepper hair, and gave him a commanding, but benevolent, look. He was a stark contrast to his son, dressed all in his black ceremonial robes. The three young princes greeted their father, though Kal’s distraction was obvious. Jor-El glanced at Ching and Jai.

“Might I have a word with your brother in private?” he asked.

“Of course, Father,” Ching said. He gave Kal a squeeze on one shoulder. “Good luck, bro.”

Jai slapped Kal lightly on the back before he went. “Best of luck. See you at the feast. And don’t forget to smile.” He pointed his fingers to the corners of his mouth and moved them upwards as he demonstrated a huge smile for Kal.

Kal chuckled at his little brother’s antics. “Oh, thank you so much,” he said dryly. “It’s a good thing I have you here to show me what a smile looks like. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jai grinned impishly. “You’re welcome!” he shot back with a laugh, swiftly closing the door behind him as he exited Kal’s chambers.

“Kal,” Jor-El said simply.

Kal didn’t respond. For two weeks now, he’d barely spoken with his father. At first, he’d been too angry to speak to him. It had been a struggle for him to keep a cordial tone when he’d spoken to Jor-El whenever they were in the presence of the Elders. But as the anger with his father had subsided into an unhappy acceptance of his actions, it hadn’t gotten any easier to talk to him. Kal found that he simply didn’t know what to say. He found himself all but speechless. Now, he merely readjusted his robe’s collar again. Jor-El stepped around him and shifted the robes until they sat perfectly on his son. Kal sighed and shut his eyes for a brief moment.

“I haven’t had to fix your clothes for you since you were a little boy,” the Supreme Lord said softly as he shifted the fabric.

Kal nodded. “Yeah. I remember that. I think the last time was when Mom died.”

Jor-El smiled gently. “Between you and your brothers, you three always had a tie half coming undone, or a shirt twisted in some odd direction. I never could figure out how you’d manage to do that so quickly. I’d look at you and you’d be in perfect order. I’d turn away for a moment and when I’d look back, it was like you’d been through a hurricane.” He shook his head in amusement.

Kal chuckled quietly. “I remember that too. It used to drive you and Mom nuts.”

Jor-El laughed and shrugged. “You three were kids. It was to be expected.”

“Dad…”

“There,” Jor-El said, as he smoothed down a slight crinkle in the robes. “Perfect.”

“Dad,” Kal repeated, his eyes pleading with his father. “Must I go through with this? Is there no way, no loophole…?” He knew in his heart what the answer was, but he still couldn’t resist one final attempt.

Jor-El shook his head. “I am sorry, my son. But you must marry the girl.”

“What if…what if this marriage doesn’t work? What if Lois hates being married to me?”

“I have faith in you, Kal. I know that you’ll find a way to make it work.”

“Great. You and my brothers have more faith in this than I do.” Kal’s shoulders slumped again.

“Try to keep an open mind about this,” his father said, placing both hands on the prince’s shoulders. “It will be far easier to make the transition that way. Believe me.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Good. Now come. It’s time.”

Kal loosed a heavy sigh of regret. He dejectedly followed his father through the palace, down to the chambers where the Council of Elders held all of the important ceremonies. Each step forward felt like a step made towards some intangible prison. Kal felt his heart sink as the time slipped away and the distance between himself and his fate steadily closed. Reaching the doors to the chambers, Kal forced himself to take a deep breath. He held it for several heartbeats, then slowly released it. He squared his shoulders and forced the sadness from his features. He determinedly affixed a passable smile to his face. He knew that it didn’t resemble his usual, genuine smile, but he hoped that the inconsistency would be chalked up to the nerves of a groom on his wedding day. Kal took another deep breath and pushed open the doors to the chamber.

All of the Elders were in attendance, as well as many of the noble families. Kal’s eyes swept the room from one side to the other as he entered the room. He wasn’t surprised by the turn out. No doubt they all saw this marriage as one of the happiest occasions for the royal family since Ching’s marriage six years prior. Kal’s heart sank as he recognized the irony of the situation. Today was the happiest day on the planet for everyone except for himself. And possibly for Lois. Still, he stepped into the room with his head held high, a fake sense of calm collectedness masking his true feelings. He nodded politely at the various lords and ladies, friends and Elders, even to the few servants who were in attendance. His stride was purposeful and confident, his bearing fit for a prince and reflecting the authority that he carried. Finally, he made his way to Trey, each step feeling heavier than the last, until his legs felt absolutely leaden. In a soft voice, Kal greeted the Chief Elder, then turned and waited for his bride to enter the room.

Several long minutes passed. Kal began to half hope, half fear that Samm Lyne had decided against the marriage for some reason. But all thoughts were banished in the next instant.

The door slowly opened. Samm and Elle Lyne entered the room, followed by a young woman, the bride’s sister, Luci. The three swiftly made their way to their seats and sat. All eyes were riveted on the door as the figure of a second young woman came into view. A low murmur coursed through the room before silence took hold again. Kal wondered briefly if any of them had ever known of Samm’s daughters. The woman advanced, dressed in crisp black robes, similar to Kal’s. As she steadily drew nearer, Kal got a better view of the woman. He felt certain that his eyes were growing wider with his bride’s every step closer. His father hadn’t been lying to him when he’d said that Lois was a rare beauty. Kal didn’t think that he’d ever seen a woman so beautiful before.

She was a slender, shapely woman with dark hair and soft brown eyes. Though she did not make eye contact with Kal as she walked, he felt his heart skip a beat. At least one of his fears was laid to rest. He’d worried that he’d never come to even be remotely attracted to his wife-to-be, let alone find a way to turn this forced wedding into a functional marriage. But he definitely felt an instant attraction to his bride. He only hoped now that her mind and personality were as alluring, as blindingly beautiful, as the outside. At last, she finally took that last, vital step and faced Kal. Her eyes locked onto his, and Kal felt his heart melt. But Lois’ eyes were unreadable. Kal only hoped that she found his own looks to be pleasing. New worries seared through his mind. Were his robes sitting perfectly on his frame? Did his hair look all right? Should he have gone with the neater, slicked back look?

“My lords and ladies, we are gathered here on this most joyous day to bear witness to the union of Prince Kal of the house of El, second son of the venerable Supreme Lord Jor-El, to this woman, Lois of the house of Lyne, firstborn daughter of the esteemed Dr. Samm Lyne.”

Kal swallowed hard. This was it. The moment that he’d been dreading for two weeks. As Trey began the ancient ceremony, Kal’s fate was sealed. He felt as though he were locked in some impregnable cage with the stunning stranger before him. Kal tried to force such thoughts from his mind. He tried to focus on what Trey was saying. And for the most part, he was successful. But even so, there were a few moments when the Elder’s voice faded from Kal’s mind as new fears, new questions occupied his thoughts.

What was Lois like? Would she like him? Would he like her? What would it be like to share his living quarters with this woman? Could they make this marriage work?

“My lord, please repeat your vows after me,” Trey said, pulling Kal from his thoughts, as he bound Kal’s hand to Lois’ with a length of exquisite silk. “I, Kal, of the house of El, hereby do solemnly pledge myself to thee, Lois, of the house of Lyne. From this moment, henceforth, until my dying day, I commit myself to you as your husband. I promise to always honor you and protect you, in sickness and in health, in times of happiness and times of turmoil, in times of bounty and times of wanting. There shall be no others that shall take your place in my life and in my heart.”

Kal solemnly repeated the words, knowing in his heart that he meant what he was saying. Not only because he found his bride beautiful, but because the union of marriage was a sacred oath to him, regardless of the path that had led him to it. He noted, however, that the wording of the vows was not quite fair. Nothing was said about giving his fidelity to the woman standing before him, though he knew that Lois’ vows would require her to make that oath.

“My lady, please repeat your vows after me,” Trey said, shifting his gaze from Kal to Lois. “I, Lois, of the house of Lyne, hereby do solemnly pledge myself to thee, Kal, of the house of El. From this moment, henceforth, until my dying day, I commit myself to you as your wife. I promise to always honor you and support you, in sickness and in health, in times of happiness and times of turmoil, in times of bounty and times of wanting. I pledge my eternal fidelity to you and promise to bear your children; sons to carry on your name and daughters to brighten your days. There shall be no others that shall take your place in my life and in my heart.”

Lois spoke the ancient words, and Kal was captivated by her voice. It brought an ache of joy to his uncertain heart to hear such a beautiful sound. He wondered what was going on in her mind, behind those incredible eyes of hers. Did she feel as he felt? Did the vows mean as much to her as they did to him? Or was she already plotting some way to try and get out of this marriage? For the first time since he’d learned of the contract that bound them, he hoped that Lois would give this marriage a real chance. If she was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, he could imagine himself falling for her.

“My lords and ladies, honored guests, it is my deep pleasure to pronounce this union complete. I now present to you your newest royal couple, Prince Kal and Princess Lois. May their marriage be long, happy, and blessed with many children.”

The room exploded into thunderous applause as Trey made his announcement. Kal and Lois were untied from one another, and they turned to face the gathered nobles who’d witnessed their union. Together, they endured the applause for a long moment. Then, as soon as it was socially acceptable, they strode from the room, Lois trailing Kal by the customary two steps. Kal stubbornly kept the fake smile plastered to his face, though inwardly, he was disgusted by the archaic tradition that forced his new wife to walk behind him.

Behind the newlyweds, the rest of the guests began to file out of the Council’s chambers, as soon as Lois had cleared the door. Kal led the way through the palace to the grand ballroom where the elaborate wedding feast would be served. He could scarcely wait to get to his destination. At least then, he might be able to have a word with Lois. Plus, it would afford him a chance to slip a little out of the spotlight as the guests mingled with one another. So it was with a sigh of relief that he entered the ballroom.

Kal led Lois to the dais that had been set up for them, then turned to his wife. He gave her a shy smile but before he could speak a word, his brothers converged on them. Kal sighed inwardly. Normally he’d be happy to be rescued from a moment like this, but now, it felt more like an intrusion.

“Kal! Congrats, bro!” Jai said, reaching him first. He drew Kal into a back-slapping hug.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Congratulations, little brother,” Ching said, approaching with Zara.

“Congratulations,” Zara echoed.

“Thanks,” Kal said. He leaned in and hugged Zara, and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You look great, Zara.”

Zara blushed and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Lois,” Kal said, turning to his bride. “I’d like you to meet my older brother, Ching, his wife, Zara, and my younger brother, Jai. You’ll be seeing a lot of them, now that we’re…family.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his face going scarlet as he lost the battle to suppress an embarrassed blush.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Lois said, looking uncomfortable.

“Welcome to the family,” Ching said, smiling brightly.

“It’s so good to have another woman around,” Zara said with a grin. “Trust me, these guys are all very sweet, but it will be nice to have another woman to talk with and hang out with. I look forward to getting to know you.”

“I’m sure that you two will become great friends,” Ching said, smiling at Zara. He gave her a quick kiss on the head. “Kal, Dad’s coming.”

Jor-El quickly crossed the room to where his sons and daughters-in-law stood, talking in a loose circle. A few times, he stopped to briefly greet a nobleman or noblewoman, including Lux Uthor, the third wealthiest nobleman on Krypton. But, still, Jor-El steadily drew nearer to his sons. When he finally closed the distance, he greeted Lois with gentle familiarity. His smile was soft and genuine as he spoke with his new daughter-in-law.

“Lois, my dear. You look stunning,” he said.

“Oh, uh, thank you, my lord,” she said. It was clear that she was growing more uncomfortable by the moment.

Kal couldn’t really blame her. He was uncomfortable enough; he could only imagine how Lois felt in such a new and overwhelming setting.

Jor-El smiled warmly. “No more of this ‘my lord’ business. We are family now. Jor is fine. Kal, may I have a word with you, in private?”

Kal nodded. “I’ll be right back,” he promised Lois.

He turned and followed his father off to a secluded corner of the room, until they were standing before a series of floor to ceiling windows that commanded a view of the immense river that ran past the palace to the west. It was nearing sunset, and the sky was painted in bold reds and gold, with puffy pinkish clouds. The red sun hung low in the sky, a suspended ball of fire that turned the peaceful river into molten gold. Night was coming.

Specifically, Kal thought with a mental shudder, his wedding night.

He both looked forward to it, if only to put this day behind him, and dreaded it, for he’d be alone with Lois. He knew in his heart that he’d never be able to follow through with his expected marital duties. He just couldn’t bring himself to lay with a complete stranger. But what would Lois think? Would it be a relief to her as well? Or did he risk insulting her? He ran his hand through his hair. It was a habit that he’d had since he was a child. Whenever he was ill at ease, or even embarrassed or deep in thought, his hand forever found itself raking though his hair. He’d tried to break the habit several times before, but it was so deeply ingrained in him, that he’d never been successful. Jor-El finally faced his son.

“Kal,” he said, looking his son in the eye, “I know that this has been a rough day on you. But I am proud of the way that you have handled yourself thus far. And I am grateful for your cooperation. I had feared that you might do something rash to try and get out of this marriage.”

“I wanted to,” Kal admitted, casting his eyes down at the floor, “but I knew that there was nothing I could do. Anything that I might have done would have only brought shame and would have eroded your reputation of being a man of your word. I couldn’t do that to you, even if it meant my unhappiness.”

“And are you unhappy now?” Jor-El asked gently.

Kal shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve barely gotten to say two words to Lois. I have no idea what she’s like.”

“Is she not attractive though?” his father asked knowingly.

Kal chuckled. “Very.”

Jor-El’s chuckle matched Kal’s. “I thought that you might agree. Now go. Enjoy your feast.”

Kal wanted to argue. It wasn’t his feast. It was his father’s feast. Kal just happened to be the one that everyone was celebrating. If the prince had had his way, there would have been no wedding and no feast this day. But he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t start the same argument with his father all over again. It was too late anyway. So, instead, he just nodded.

“All right.”

And yet, he still wanted to say more, to express his fears to his father. But now was not the time. So Kal squared his shoulders again and waded back into the thick of the feast. He wanted desperately to have a moment alone with Lois. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. For the rest of the evening, he found himself pulled into one conversation after another. Every single guest wanted their moment with him to express their congratulations to him, and their wishes for a long and happy marriage. Several of the nobles monopolized his time, and Kal found it hard to break away from them to move on to speak with others. Much of the conversation Kal barely heard, even when he was speaking with his good friends, Ruce A’ne among them. His mind was elsewhere. He tried to keep an eye on Lois, looking for an opening to speak with her. But she was in the same predicament as he was. She was never alone for a moment. Kal was grateful to see that someone was always with her, to introduce her to the vast array of lords, ladies, Elders, and other honored guests. At least she wasn’t being thrown to the wolves all on her own. He only wished that he could be the one at her side.

Hours passed. The brilliant sunset faded into the bruised purple-black of twilight, then into the deep black of night. Countless stars flared into life in the sky above and the twin moons rose, full and bright. Kal counted himself lucky when each new course was brought out, and the guests left him alone for a short time so that they all could eat. But even then, he was never alone with his wife. Servants constantly bustled about, driving Kal nearly crazy. Only once did he get a moment to speak with her briefly, just before the dessert course was served.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he said to her, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear over the low roar of the feasting nobles. “It wasn’t my idea for this huge…production.”

“Oh…it’s okay,” Lois said, groping for words.

“After dessert, I think we’ll be able to slip out of here, if you’d like to.”

“I, uh…”

But Lois wasn’t permitted to finish her statement. Servants came and placed their desserts before them, then Jor-El stood to toast the new couple. Kal sighed in frustration. It just wasn’t fair. He had been trying all night to break the awkward ice between Lois and himself, but each time, his efforts had been thwarted.

At last, the toasts and the dessert course was finished. Guests began to leave and Kal finally saw his opportunity to slip out of the feast unnoticed. He nodded at Lois and she nodded back. A look of worry was on her face, mixed with relief that it was finally time to leave the feast. Inwardly, Kal’s feelings reflected the same warring emotions. He led her out of the ballroom, deftly avoiding the pockets of guests who were still celebrating. Lois followed behind him, dutifully keeping the traditional two steps behind him. As soon as they were in the hall and alone, Kal stopped and turned to Lois.

“Lois?”

“Yes?”

“I, uh…would you mind walking beside me?”

“That…wouldn’t be proper. Tradition clearly states…”

“Hang tradition,” Kal said, smiling gently. “You are my wife now. I will not have you treated as if you are beneath me.”

“As you wish,” Lois replied.

“Thank you,” Kal said.

With Lois by his side, Kal took them through the palace. He supposed that he should point out the various rooms and wings that they were passing. But he felt drained of all energy. He could take her on a tour in the morning. So he took the quickest route back to his own chambers.

“Here we are,” he said, upon reaching the doors to his own rooms. “Home sweet home.”

He pushed open the door and allowed Lois to enter first. Kal’s cat, an orange tabby, came rushing to the door to greet them. The cat cheerfully meowed at them. He wound himself around Lois’ legs, rubbing and purring.

“Looks like Fasa likes you,” Kal said, for lack of anything else to say. Now that he was totally alone with Lois, he found himself shy and uncertain once more.

“Fasa?” Lois asked. “Like the hunter-turned-hero of the old myths?”

Kal nodded and closed the door behind them. “It’s always been one of my favorite stories. Well, here we are. These are our living quarters. Everything I have is now yours. I hope you’ll be comfortable here. Please, make yourself at home.” He moved through his chambers as he spoke, until he was at his bedroom.

Lois nodded but said nothing. Kal searched for words, but found none. To busy himself, he went to his dresser and pulled out a sleep shirt and pants. He ducked into the bathroom to change. Once behind the closed door, he let out a quivering sigh. This was turning out to be more awkward than he’d anticipated. What should he do now?

“Break the ice,” he whispered to himself. “But how?”

Still pondering his situation, Kal finished changing and reentered the bedroom. Lois was stripping out of her robes. She paused and swallowed hard, facing Kal, and let the material pool around her ankles.

“Wh…what are you doing?” Kal asked. He tried not to stare and averted his eyes. He toed the carpet of the room self-consciously.

“I…thought…you’d want to take what is rightfully yours.”

Kal shook his head. “No. Please, get dressed.”

“Am I not pleasing to you, my lord?”

Kal shook his head again. “It’s not that. You’re beautiful. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

“Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Still, Lois bent and pulled the robes around her body once more.

“Look, Lois, you don’t…belong…to me, or to anyone. It wouldn’t be right for me to just…take…what you’re offering. I’d like it if we got to know each other though. Here…I have something that I’d like to give you.”

Kal crossed the room and went to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and rummaged for a moment. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the small, black velvet box and handed it to Lois. She took it after a moment’s hesitation. She opened the lid and sucked in a breath when she saw the multi-rayed star necklace that lay within.

“What? Why?”

Kal shrugged. “I thought that you might like it. I wanted this marriage to start off on a good foot. I hoped that it might help…”

Lois cut him off, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “You thought what? That you’d buy my affections? That you’d make one gesture and I’d fall into your arms? Well, you’ve got another thing coming. The only reason I am here is that I had no other choice.”

“Lois, neither one of us had a choice in this.”

Lois nodded. “And just because we’ve been forced into a marriage doesn’t mean that I have to like it. My father might be thrilled with this match, but I’m not. If it were up to me, I’d be off doing my own thing. I’d rather be a working commoner then a princess stuck in a marriage with you. So you can just keep your little gift. I will not be bought!”

She snapped the lid of the box shut and hurled it at Kal. He moved one step to the side a second before it would have crashed into his forehead. His jaw hung slack with disbelief. He’d meant the gift to be a gesture of his good will and his willingness to give this marriage a fighting chance. How had the tables turned on him so quickly? He bent and picked up the box from where it had landed, his heart sinking. He placed the box on the top of his dresser and shook his head. He went to his closet and pulled out an extra blanket and pillow.

“What are you doing?” Lois demanded.

“You can take the bed,” Kal said, disgusted by the turn of events. “I’m going to go sleep on the couch. Come, Fasa.”

With a meow, the cat followed Kal out of the bedroom and to the living room. Kal lay on the couch on his back. Fasa jumped up and lay on his chest. Hot tears of sadness and frustration pricked at Kal’s eyes. He fought them back and stroked the cat’s back. Though he was exhausted, Kal found sleep to be elusive for a long while.

The next morning, Kal woke early. He followed his usual routine of caring for his cat and getting himself ready for the day. And yet, he felt lost. What was he supposed to do today? There would be no council meetings that he could lose himself in, of that he was certain. He’d seen many of the Elders imbibe a bit too deeply at the wedding feast. He was sure that most of them would be spending the day sleeping off their hangovers. He imagined that the case was the same for Jai; he had still been partying heavily when Kal and Lois had snuck out of the affair.

Kal frowned as his memories surfaced. Last night had not gone well with Lois. In fact, it had been nothing short of a disaster. He’d hoped to have a little of Jai’s humor to distract him from the catastrophe that had been his wedding night. His frown deepened when he realized that he’d soon have to face Lois. What was he supposed to say to her? He feared to further fuel her anger with him. It would only make it that much harder to try to fix things between them. Would she allow him to even try to fix things? She had made it quite clear to him the night before that she wasn’t in the least bit interested in being married to him.

“I don’t really blame her,” Kal said aloud, sitting on the couch and scratching Fasa behind the ears. “Neither one of us planned for this marriage. I just wish that I could find a way to make things right. Any ideas, buddy?”

Fasa stared at him and blinked, then yawned widely. Kal smiled at his furry companion.

“Thanks,” Kal said, giving the tabby a final pat on the head. “You’ve been a big help.”

Kal began to pace before the large windows of the room. The day was overcast. Huge black clouds hung heavily in the air, threatening a storm. A stiff wind had picked up. Kal could see the trees in the gardens swaying mightily. His stomach growled as he stopped to watch the trees. A thought crossed his mind and he smiled. He strode from the chamber, leaving Lois to sleep. He swiftly made his way through the palace and down to the kitchen. The palace was eerily quiet, even for this early hour of the day. Usually Kal saw or heard at least a few Elders around, or a courier rushing off to deliver a message. But today, there was no one. Kal wondered if he was the only one, aside from the servants, who was awake.

When he reached the kitchen, a pleasant warmth and delicious smells greeted him. He slipped inside, listening to the jangling and clinking of dishes, the bubbling of various pots, and the hiss of meats cooking on the wide stovetops. The cooks bowed to him respectfully and he greeted each of them by name. But there was one in particular that he was looking for. Kal smiled as he finally caught sight of the man that he sought; an older man with graying hair and a drum of a belly.

“Kal!” the man said, smiling when he saw the prince. “My sincerest congratulations to you and your new bride.”

“Thanks, Jon,” Kal said. “My sincerest compliments on the feast that you and your staff prepared last night. People will be talking about it for years to come.”

“Thank you,” Jon replied. “Marthe said that the event was something to behold.”

Kal nodded absently. “Oh? Was she there? I didn’t see her.”

Jon nodded. “She wouldn’t have missed it for the world, though she didn’t stay long. You know that we both love you and your brothers like you were our own.”

“If only that could be the case,” Kal said, as he ushered Jon to a more private area, where they could speak without being overheard. “I’d trade in all the comforts of my life in a heartbeat for the freedom that comes along with being a commoner.”

Jon frowned. His prince had never really spoken like this before. Sure, he’d sometimes vented his frustrations to Jon when he was having a bad day; things that he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing with his father. And he knew that Kal often confided in Jon’s wife, Marthe. After all, Marthe had been the princes’ nursemaid since their births. In fact, Kal had become so close to them both that the Kens felt almost like he was the child that they had never been able to have on their own. But never before had Kal sounded so depressed, so defeated. It worried Jon.

“What’s wrong, son?” Jon asked. He’d been calling Kal “son” for years as a sign of his affection for the young prince.

Kal sighed as he slumped against the wall. “Married life is hard.”

Jon nodded and smiled, suppressing a chuckle. “It is. But you’ve not even been married a full twenty-four hours yet.”

Kal grimaced. “I know. And already my marriage is a disaster.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. But Lois and I haven’t started out on a very good foot. I think she hates me.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case. But it’s going to take you both some time to adjust to the situation,” Jon assured him.

“I know.”

“So what are you doing here then? Hiding out? Trust me, it never works.”

Kal smiled a little at Jon’s light teasing. “I’d hoped that you could fix me up with some breakfast. I want to bring it to my chambers as a surprise for Lois. Sort of a peace offering, I guess you could call it.”

Jon chuckled. “That, I can do. I can send it up to your rooms, if you’d like.”

Kal shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d rather bring it up myself. I don’t want Lois to see me as some spoiled little rich boy. I want her to see the person that I really am.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jon said, nodding. “Let’s get you a couple of plates, shall we?”

“Thanks, Jon,” Kal said, brightening for a second.

Together, the two men planned out a breakfast. Kal loaded a tray with scrambled eggs and bacon, sausage and hash browns, bagels, butter, and various types of jellies. He added a couple of dishes of fresh fruit slices and mixed berries. Coffee he could make in his own small kitchenette within his chambers. He hesitated a moment as he surveyed the breakfast that they had compiled. He felt nervous about returning to his rooms. Would Lois be awake? Would she think that he’d abandoned her in his rooms?

“Go,” Jon urged him. “Nothing will get accomplished standing around here all morning. Unless, of course, you want the food to get cold.”

Kal smiled gently and laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks again, Jon.”

“My pleasure,” Jon said, waving Kal back out through the kitchen. “And good luck.”

Kal nodded and hefted the tray so that it rested on his shoulder and the palm of his hand. From behind, he would have looked like any one of the servants who worked in the palace. He easily made his way back to his living quarters, as though the tray of food weighed nothing. He slipped quietly back into his rooms when he reached them, then quickly set the table in his dining area. He didn’t often get much use out of the dining set, but today he was glad for it.

He poked his head into the bedroom, but Lois was still asleep; only the top of her head was visible beneath the sheets. He didn’t want to wake her, so he set the hot food into a food warmer for the time being. Then he settled himself on the couch, lay on it lengthwise, and picked up the book that he was in the middle of reading. He found his place in the book and began to read, with Fasa coming to rest on his legs as he stretched out. About an hour later, Lois entered the living room. Kal was instantly on his feet, shutting the book as he moved.

“Good morning,” he said, as cheerfully as he could against his thudding heart.

Lois groaned. “We’re still married, aren’t we?”

“Yes…” he ventured, hesitantly.

“Then there’s nothing good about it.”

Kal ignored the remark, though it cut him like a knife. “Hungry? I brought us some breakfast.”

He moved to his small kitchenette and took the food out of the warmer, and started the coffeemaker. He set the food out on the table before Lois could answer. She looked warily at it, then to Kal. She seemed to be analyzing the situation and Kal’s motives, and her brow crinkled. Kal held his breath, awaiting Lois’ reaction. A spark of hope flared in his heart as she eyed the spread, and he allowed himself to feel pleased with what he had done.

“So…what? Am I not good enough to join everyone in the main dining room? Are you that ashamed of being married to me? Just what is it with you? You know, I thought my father was bad, but at least he allowed me to dine with other people. This is just plain insulting! Kept locked out of sight like I’m some sort of animal or something!”

The venom in Lois’ voice stung Kal’s feelings. His heart sank and the breath was driven from his lungs, as though he’d been physically hit. The hope in his heart came to a sputtering death and he felt absurdly ashamed of the breakfast he’d brought to his rooms. Once again, his gesture had backfired. What was worse, was that he didn’t understand how that had happened.

“No!” he sputtered. “I just thought that you might be more comfortable eating here. That it might…take some of the pressure off. Besides, no one else seems to be awake just yet. I think they must have partied too hard last night.”

“Oh,” Lois said, though her tone was not apologetic. She hesitated for a moment, as though deciding something. “I guess I could eat.”

“Great,” Kal said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. He’d lost it all at his wife’s outburst. “Please, have a seat.”

Lois slowly approached the table, as though it or Kal might bite. Kal let her come at her own pace. He thought that he’d seen wild deer that were more trusting than Lois was, and a lot less skittish. He contented himself to taking his seat and pouring himself a cup of coffee. His mind raced. What could he say to her? He felt certain that if he said anything, he’d inadvertently offend Lois again. To give himself a reason not to say anything at all, he took a sip of his coffee. He winced, added another spoonful of sugar, and took another sip. Lois finally took her seat across from him.

“Can I pour you a cup of coffee?” he asked, doing his best not to let his nervousness show.

Lois nodded. “Please.”

With a mental sigh of relief, Kal took Lois’ mug and poured her drink for her. He watched as she took the mug and prepared the drink, committing the amounts of sugar and cream to memory. In the future, perhaps he would surprise her by preparing her coffee for her in advance. He kept his silence, but soon the quiet began to grow too uncomfortable for his liking.

“So…” he started to say, groping for words, while swallowing the blackberry he was eating.

“So…” Lois said back, just as lost for words.

“I, uh, thought that maybe you’d like a tour of the palace today. This is your home now, and I want you to feel comfortable here.”

Kal mentally kicked himself. That hadn’t come out exactly the way that he’d wanted. He waited for Lois to explode. But instead, she only nodded.

“I guess that’s probably a good idea,” she said, swallowing a piece of bagel. She sounded almost resigned to her immediate fate.

“Great,” Kal said, feeling a small smile crossing his lips. “Look, about last night…”

“Forget it,” Lois said, cutting him off. “What’s done is done. For better or worse, we’re stuck together. I don’t like it. And I’m sure that you don’t like it either. All we have to do is keep up this facade until we can figure out some way of getting out of this thing.”

Kal shook his head, his heart sinking once more. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“It has to be. You’re the prince. Throw some of your authority around. I’m sure that the Elders will race to do your bidding.” Some of her earlier venom had crept back into her voice.

“That’s not…I don’t…”

“Make it happen,” Lois said, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t intend on living out my days in some loveless marriage.”

“Do you think that I find this situation ideal?” Kal asked, the embers of his own anger finally stirring. “I didn’t ask for this either. If I could have gotten out of this marriage, I would have done so two weeks ago when I found out about it. I would have saved us both the time and aggravation. But there’s nothing that I can do.”

He drained the last of his coffee and set the mug back on the table, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. He shifted his eyes to stare at the far wall and took a moment to calm himself again. Getting angry would serve no purpose. And he didn’t want to start a fight with Lois. He finally softened and turned his gaze back to her. He was surprised that she hadn’t yelled back at him. He’d been more than certain that she would. But she simply sat there, staring at him with a cold look of disgust on her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have gotten upset. It’s just that this whole situation is stressful…for both of us.”

Lois said nothing. She only folded her arms across her chest. Kal was certain that if looks could kill, he’d already be a smoldering pile of ash. He shook his head again. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what he could say or do now that might help to smooth things over. His hand raked through his hair. Then he stood and began to clear the dishes from the table. When he was done, he gathered his courage and addressed Lois again.

“Lois?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying. I really am. I just have no idea of what I’m doing here. Please, be patient with me?”

Lois nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Kal breathed a sigh of relief. “So, do you still want that tour?” He knew that his voice sounded timid, but he didn’t particularly care.

Lois rewarded him with a tiny smile. “Sure.”

“And you’ll walk by my side?”

“What if someone sees?”

“Let them,” Kal said, shrugging. “I’m not exactly known for being a stickler for tradition. Drives the Elders crazy. Besides, no one cares much about that outside of the most formal of occasions.”

“Okay,” Lois agreed.

Together, they made their way through the palace. Kal showed her every nook and cranny of the place, from the deserted gym in the basement to the Supreme Lord’s chambers on the uppermost level. They did not enter every place, but at least Lois would know where the places were located if she ever needed or wanted to go to them. A few times, they came across servants busy at their various jobs. Kal stopped each one and introduced Lois to them by name, greeting them all with warm familiarity. He silently hoped that Lois didn’t think he was putting on some kind of act to impress her. They also came across a few Elders, and Kal introduced Lois to them as well. He took a special delight in introducing Lois to Marthe and Jon Ken. Of all of the palace staff, he’d grown extremely close to them both. Lois politely spoke with each person that Kal introduced to her, though by the end of the tour she looked as though her head was spinning.

“These chambers here belong to Ching and Zara,” Kal said, gesturing to the doors. “I hope that you and Zara can become friends. She’s really great and I think it’ll be good for you both to have another woman to talk with. I know that Zara wasn’t kidding when she mentioned needing another woman around. She’s been saying that for the last few years now.” They moved on down to Jai’s chambers. Kal pointed them out. “These are Jai’s rooms.”

“He lives here? In the palace?” Lois asked, genuine surprise in her voice.

“Well, sure. Where else would he live?”

“Well, it’s just that…I’ve always been told that…half-blooded sons and daughters of the noble houses aren’t usually afforded the same luxuries as the full-blooded children.”

“Jai is my half-brother,” Kal said, nodding. “But my father loves him just the same as Ching and myself. I can’t speak for the other noble houses. I know that many of the nobles force their concubines to terminate any pregnancies that arise. Others send both mother and child out from their estates in exile. Others might allow the child to remain. I can only speak for my father. And he affords Jai every possible comfort. He can never assume the throne, of course. The law is quite clear on that, though Ching and I disagree with many, if not most, of the laws. But in all other ways, Jai is our equal and his bloodlines make no matter.”

They had paused before Jai’s doors. They opened unexpectedly and Catira G’rat stumbled out of the chambers, holding her slender heeled shoes in one hand. Jai was right behind her, clad only in a thin pair of pants. He was holding his head and looked quite ill. With his free hand, he was gripping the doorframe as a way to remain standing.

“Morning, Jai,” Kal said brightly.

“Sssshhhh!” he slurred. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“I am not,” Kal said, smiling. “But the ridiculous amount of wine that you consumed last night is.”

“Well, someone had to party it up,” Jai said, squinting against the bright lights of the hall. Behind him, the chambers were dark, the shades drawn tight against the daylight. “Oh heyyyy, sis! How’s my big brother treating you?”

“You’re still drunk,” Kal said, shaking his head. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not as drunk as…as…as…yeah, I’m still drunk.”

Kal gently smiled. “To bed.”

“That’s where I just came from…” Jai began to protest.

“Okay…go back to bed. Alone.”

Jai grimaced and put his hand to his head again. “I guess.”

“Sleep well,” Kal said, and ushered Lois down the hall before his brother could say anything else.

“Jai is, uh, charming,” Lois said coolly.

“Please don’t judge him based on what you just saw. He just needs to sleep off the wine. He’s not usually like that.”

Lois snorted her distaste. “Who was that woman?”

Kal hesitated for a moment. “One of Jai’s…luxuries,” he said at last.

Lois nodded in understanding. “So it’s not enough that he’s a concubine’s son. He needs to lay with them too. Do you two share the same pool of women? Or does the royal house of El keep enough women on staff so that you each have your own harem?”

Kal gaped. How had he once again become the recipient of Lois’ anger? He hadn’t done anything wrong! Jai was the one who’d invited a concubine in to share his bed, not Kal. But Lois was taking it out on him anyway.

“I don’t have a harem,” he said, defending himself.

“Uh-huh.”

“I swear! Ching and I don’t believe in the practice. He’s very devoted to Zara. And I just find the whole idea abhorrent.”

“Riiiight.”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“And why should I believe anything that you have to say?”

“Lois, why would I lie to you?”

“To placate me. To make yourself feel better. Look, I don’t really care. You could father a child with every woman on Krypton for all that I care. Just stay away from me.”

Lois took off down the hall in the direction of Kal’s rooms, leaving him standing stunned in the hallway. His fists balled up as he struggled not to scream out his frustration. Everything had finally started to smooth out while he was showing Lois around. And now, the peace had been shattered like a plate of fragile glass. And it had all been because he’d had the bad luck of nearing Jai’s chambers as his brother had sent one of the concubines on their way. All hope for getting on Lois’ good side vanished from Kal’s heart. He turned away from the direction that Lois had gone and strode from the palace, out into the howling wind. He jogged quickly to the rose gardens, collapsed on a bench, and let his pent up tears fall.

Kal remained in the rose garden until late in the afternoon. The usually comforting setting did nothing to alleviate his grief. He kept thinking about Lois. It was clear that she hated him. And Kal had no idea how to change her mind. She didn’t have to love him, or even like him. But he wished that they could at least find a common ground; a place where they could both be on civil terms. He hated the fact that he kept inadvertently making her mad. But what was he supposed to do? Not talk at all? Kal hung his head as fresh tears stung his eyes.

He didn’t hear anyone approaching. He didn’t see the figure as it rounded the corner and entered the boundary between the lilies and the rose gardens. He was far too wrapped up in his own feelings of utter despair and hopelessness.

“Kal?”

The young prince groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was to talk to anyone, least of all his father. His father was the reason why he was in this mess to begin with.

“Son, what are you doing out here?”

Kal quickly wiped away the evidence of his crying as his father came nearer. His tears made him feel like a child. He didn’t want his father to see them; it was far too embarrassing. He cleared his throat and moved over so that Jor-El could sit on the bench as well. Kal sighed as Jor-El sat.

“Son? What’s wrong?” The Supreme Lord placed a comforting hand on Kal’s back.

“Everything,” Kal admitted in a voice so soft that it could barely be heard above the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind.

“That’s quite a lot,” Jor-El said gently. “How about we narrow it down a bit?”

“Lois hates me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is true, Dad. I can’t seem to do anything right by her. Everything I say and do makes her mad. I don’t know what to do.”

Jor-El nodded. “You need to be patient. Remember, it’s not just your world that changed overnight. Hers changed too, and even more dramatically. She’s living in a new place where she doesn’t know anyone. She’s had to leave both family and friends behind.”

“I know that. And I’ve been trying to help her adjust. But it’s like she doesn’t want me to do that. It’s like she prefers to stay mad at me, even though this wasn’t my fault. She’s already asked me to find a way out of our contract.”

“I see.”

“This is a disaster, Dad.”

Jor-El smiled tenderly at his son. “It may seem like that now, but give it time.”

“I’m trying to. I really am. But…we’re both miserable. I’m sorry, Dad. But I agree with Lois. Is there a way to get out of this? Some way that we can pretend at a marriage for some acceptable length of time and then quietly end it? Some way that won’t bring shame to either of our Houses?”

Jor-El shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, son, but the law is the law. All marriage contracts between noble houses are unbreakable. You know that as well as I do.”

“Then I wish I was a commoner. At least they have some freedom to marry who they wish.” Kal’s voice was harsh and bitter.

“Well, like it or not, you are a prince of Krypton and nothing can change that.” Jor-El’s voice sounded weary, as though he too, was shouldering Kal’s grief.

“The price of privilege,” Kal sighed. “Just…tell me. What am I supposed to do? Tell me how to fix this and I will do it.”

Jor-El sighed as well. “I don’t know. Every woman is different. Zara could hardly wait for the marriage ceremony that bound her to Ching. Your mother and I had only met a handful of times before our wedding day. She came to me as a shy young woman. It took her a few months before she was at ease living in the palace. Perhaps Lois just needs some time.”

“It’s not that Lois is shy,” Kal said, remembering full well the depth of her angry rants. “I think she honestly hates everything about this situation.”

“You must learn to ignore the anger. Look past the words that she says. Find out what it is that she really wants and needs.”

“She wants her freedom.”

“She is no prisoner.”

Kal shook his head. “There may not be chains or bars holding her here, but this marriage might as well be a prison, to both of us.”

The Supreme Lord seemed to have nothing to say to that. A silence fell between father and son. Only the wind and the rustling leaves made any noise. Even the birds had gone mute before the impending storm. Kal wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for the silence, or if it made things even worse. He stared into the distance, trying to figure out what to do next. Finally, he could take the quiet no longer.

“So, were you looking for me?” Kal asked. “Is that why you came out here?”

Jor-El shook his head. “No. But like you and your brothers, I sometimes come here when I want some time alone to think. Your mother’s spirit is strong in this place.” He quickly gestured to the surrounding section of the gardens. “How I wish she were here now.”

“Me too,” Kal agreed. “I feel like she would know what to do. And I miss her.”

“So do I. She would have been very proud of the man you’ve become, Kal. I hope you know that.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You remind me of her in a lot of ways. Your smile is hers, as is your gentle nature. She was just like you in the way that she dealt with the palace staff and the common people. She knew each of them by name, and that of their families. She’d stop a courier to ask how his wife and infant child were, or she’d visit the kitchen to check on the cook whose mother was ill.”

“I remember a little of that,” Kal admitted. “There’s so much that I never really paid that much attention to, back then. I wish that I had. But I remember everything from the times when it was just Mom, Ching, Jai, and me, out in these gardens. Mom would read to us or tell us stories. I remember thinking how lucky we were. I knew that other children of nobles often didn’t get to spend much time with their parents. They used to tell us how their nursemaids were their sole caretakers in many cases. There was always a lot of resentment behind that. In fact, I think that’s why Lord Nor is so…intense. So I was always grateful that you and Mom spent as much time with us as you possibly could, and that Marthe was only there to help you raise us, not to do the whole job for you.”

A light drizzle began as Kal finished speaking. He looked up and squinted against the drops as he examined the sky. The clouds looked even blacker and more ominous than they had that morning. He frowned. He’d have to go back inside, and that meant facing Lois. Had she cooled off by now? He hoped so. He wasn’t sure that he could handle another one of her angry tirades.

“We’d better head indoors,” Jor-El said, as he too studied the sky. “Unfortunately, I have work to attend to. I’ll catch up with you and Lois at dinner. I hear that Jon is making your favorite meal tonight.”

Kal nodded, but he inwardly dreaded the meal. Things were awkward enough between Lois and himself. He could only imagine what a family dinner was going to be like. He knew that he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances before the Elders. They had been given the day off, and would not be dining with the royal family that night. Kal was infinitely glad of that fact.

The prince dejectedly walked through the white marble halls of the palace, slowly working his way back to his own rooms. He groaned as he caught sight of Ching and Jai walking together. They were coming his way, and Kal had no opportunity to avoid them. Jai, at the very least, was looking much better than he had a few hours ago, though he did not look quite back to normal yet. Kal knew from the smiles on their faces that they were going to stop him to talk. He wasn’t in the mood, but at least it would delay the inevitable. Anything was more welcome than facing his wife at the moment.

“Kal! You dog! How was the wedding night?” Jai asked him, slapping him on the back and with a suggestive wink.

“Not good,” Kal said, shrugging out of his brother’s touch.

Jai frowned. “I told you that you should have gotten in some practice with Catira. How badly did you disappoint your bride?” His tone told Kal that he was trying to crack a joke, but it fell flat on Kal’s depressed mood.

“Jai, stop,” Kal snapped, his voice a little harder than he’d meant it to be.

Jai sobered a little, as though Kal had physically slapped him. “What happened, bro?”

Kal quickly filled his brothers in on the rough start that he and Lois had made of things, though he didn’t go into too much detail. They both nodded sympathetically as he briefly recounted his plight. Ching sighed.

“That’s rough,” he told Kal. “Anything I can do to help?”

Kal shook his head. “Nothing that I can think of. Unfortunately, this is one thing that I need to handle on my own. I just don’t know where to begin.”

“Well, hanging around here won’t get anything accomplished,” Ching said.

Kal frowned. “You sound a lot like Dad sometimes, you know that?”

Ching shrugged. “Yes, actually. I believe that you and Jai have made that quite clear to me in the past.”

“Ching’s right though,” Jai offered. “You should go talk to her. And, Kal, good luck. I mean it. I hate seeing you upset.”

“Thanks,” Kal said, nodding. “I appreciate that. Well, here goes nothing.”

With that, he strode off down the hall. He did not look back at his brothers as they stood there watching his progress. When Kal finally reached his own rooms, he hesitated for a moment before the door, then resolutely grasped the knob and entered. Fasa came running, meowing a greeting as he came. Kal smiled a thin little smile and picked the cat up. He kissed the tabby’s head.

“Hey, buddy,” he said to the cat. “Miss me?”

Fasa only purred in response and rubbed his head against his master’s chin. Kal bent back down and placed the cat on the floor again. He wandered into the living room, and found Lois on the couch. She had a small selection of trunks around her and she was going through them. She looked up and fixed Kal with a cold stare as he entered the room.

“Have a nice time with your concubines?” she asked, as she pawed through a trunk filled with books.

“I told you. I don’t believe in the practice,” Kal said, sighing. He padded over to the other side of the room and sat in an armchair. “I don’t want to argue about it. You can believe me or not. But I’m telling you the truth.” He paused for a moment before adding, “What’s in the trunks?”

“My father’s servants brought some of my things up while you were…doing whatever it was that you were doing.”

“Did you need…” Kal paused and corrected himself. “Did you want any help unpacking? I made some space for your stuff in my closets and dresser. And there’s plenty of room on my bookshelves.”

“No,” Lois said, closing the trunk of books. “I’m leaving most of this stuff packed. It’ll cut down on what I need to repack when I figure out a way to get out of this marriage.”

“Lois,” Kal said, his voice gentle and pleading. “I was in the gardens this morning after we…separated in the hallway. While I was out there, I talked with my father. I begged him for a way to end this. There is no loophole, no way, to put an end to this. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t give me that. He’s the Supreme Lord. He can do whatever he pleases.”

“No, he can’t,” Kal said. “The law is the law. The Elders will never let him change it. They have to approve of major changes like that. He can’t just write a new law, or erase an existing one, just to suit his own needs…or those of his children.”

Lois glared at him and said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Kal said after a moment, fully aware that he was repeating himself. “I really am.”

“Sorry for yourself, I’ll bet.”

“No,” Kal replied, shaking his head. “For you.”

“What do you mean, for me?” Lois’ voice had an edge to it that warned that Kal was treading on dangerous ground.

“I can’t stand seeing people be unhappy. And usually I can try to find a way to change that. But this time, there’s nothing that I can do. I want to see you be happy. And I don’t want you to hate me.”

Lois sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions. “I don’t exactly hate you.”

Kal blinked in surprise, but Lois refused to elaborate any further. He cleared his throat.

“Well, for the record, I don’t hate you either,” he offered.

Lois nodded, but said nothing. Kal sighed softly. Fasa jumped up on his lap, purring. As the orange tabby settled himself down, Kal stroked the animal’s back in a thoughtful manner. At least, he thought wryly, the cat still liked him. Lois hadn’t admitted to liking him at all, but not exactly hating him was a start, he supposed.

“So what’s the deal with the cat?” Lois asked, a few minutes later. “Did you buy him hoping that it would make you seem like a nice guy? Because a guy with an animal can’t possibly be a bad guy?”

Lois’ question felt like a slap in the face.

“Of course not!” Kal said, offended. “Fasa’s been my buddy for almost five years now.”

Lois arched her eyebrow and Kal pressed on.

“My brothers and I were in the city. We make trips in quite often. Well, one summer day five years ago, we were kind of wandering aimlessly when we came across this alley and Jai made us stop. He said that he thought that he heard something. We listened, and after a minute, Ching and I could hear it too. These little plaintive mews were coming from behind some crates. We went over to have a look and found three little kittens weakly crawling around their mother. She was dead. It looked like she’d been gone for a day or so. The kittens weren’t weaned yet. In fact, they were so young that they had probably only just opened their eyes within the week. I picked up Fasa.”

Kal scratched the cat behind his ears. Fasa contentedly closed his eyes and continued to purr.

“He was dirty and half starved, and he was covered in fleas. But it was his eyes that really got to me. They seemed to be pleading for help. I decided right there to take him home and nurse him back to health, with every intention of keeping him around. I was instantly in love with him. My brothers felt the same way about the other two kittens. Ching took the grey female and Zara named her Thalia, after the mythological warrior woman who’d overcome incredible odds. She said that it was a fitting name for a kitten who’d lost her mother so young. Jai chose the male calico, and named him Zarthax, after the giant of the old tales, because he was the smallest kitten of the group. Like my brothers, I’ve always had a thing for the stars and the stories that go along with the constellations. And I’ve always been partial to the tale of Fasa, so the choice in names was easy for me.”

“So you found a couple of kittens and decided to make yourselves feel good by rescuing them. Then I guess you dumped them on some unsuspecting servant to care for them until they were well enough. Well, aren’t you the big hero?”

Kal gaped and shook his head. “Not at all. We cared for the kittens ourselves. For weeks we were all short on sleep, waking every few hours to feed them until they were old enough to eat on their own. And, well, for the last five years, we’ve been rewarded a thousand times over by the affection these cats have given us in return. I couldn’t imagine my life without Fasa. He’s kind of like my child in a way.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure these cats are very lucky and all. But there are thousands more out there that you haven’t saved.”

“Lois,” Kal gaped again. “Why are you trying to make me out to be the bad guy here? You’re the one who asked about my cat. And yes, I know that I can’t personally save them all. There are plenty of cats and dogs and all sorts of animals out there that need help. That’s why Ching, Jai, and I got our father to increase funding to the planet’s shelters. But I guess you wouldn’t understand that. You seem to only want to see the negative side of things.”

Kal stood, placing his cat on the floor as he did so. His hand passed through his hair as he turned away from the beautiful, infuriating woman sitting on the couch.

“Where are you going?” Lois demanded.

“To get freshened up for dinner. My father expects us both to be there.”

“I’m not going,” she said determinedly.

“You know what, Lois? That’s fine. I don’t care. You do whatever you want.”

Kal strode to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Fresh tears pricked his eyes and he wiped them angrily away. Why did this woman affect him so deeply? If another nobleman or noblewoman had spoken to him in such a manner, it would have rolled right off Kal’s back, like drops of rain water. But everything was different with Lois. And he was starting to hate that fact. So he vented all of his frustration into the hot tears that spilled out of his eyes and raced down his cheeks until he had no more left to give. Then he washed his face and straightened his clothing. His eyes were a little red from crying, but he thought that he looked passable. At length, he squared his shoulders and exited the bathroom.

When he emerged, he found that Lois had changed into clothing more fitting for dinner. She had combed out her dark, shoulder length hair and was sitting in the living room in one of the armchairs. Fasa was on her lap, and she absently stroked his back. Her gaze was fixed to the windows. Beyond the glass, the rain fell in a light, silver sheet while the heavy black clouds raced by overhead. Kal sat in the other armchair, opposite from Lois. She did not break her stare. She did not speak to him. That was just fine with Kal. He sat in silence, listening to the patter of the rain on the windows. Silence was better than facing Lois’ wrath.

Eventually, it came time for them to make their way to the dining room. Kal silently guided Lois through the halls. Dinner was even more uncomfortable than Kal imagined it would be. Lois said next to nothing, and when she did speak, it was not to him. She wouldn’t even look in his direction. Kal felt himself growing ever more withdrawn from the conversation. Even Jai was subdued, as he still battled the last remnants of his hangover. When the meal was finished, Kal wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved. On the one hand, he was out of his family’s scrutiny. On the other, he was once again alone with Lois. He was determined not to say anything. If he didn’t speak, she couldn’t twist his words on him.

Not another word passed between them for the rest of the evening. Lois went to bed early, taking along one of her books. Kal made up the couch for his bed again and turned his video monitor on. He put the sound as low as he could while still being able to hear it, and tuned into his favorite sport. He silently cheered on his favorite team, the Red Suns, though they did not win the game, losing by a paltry eleven points. It was late when Kal finally crawled beneath the sheets and slept, with only Fasa to keep him company.

Lois awoke before Kal did. She quickly dressed herself for the day and carefully applied her makeup. She knew that she would be expected to attend the meals and that the Elders would be there. As a result, she would be expected to look her best. From all that she had been told in preparation for this sordid marriage, the Elders and the Supreme Lord rarely stopped working during the day. Even meal times were utilized to discuss matters of the utmost importance. Satisfied with the way she looked, Lois padded to the living room.

Kal was still asleep on the couch. The blankets were half hanging off him and he lay sprawled on his stomach. His head was turned to one side, though the pillow had fallen to the floor. Fasa was laying stretched out on Kal’s upper back, and his head was resting on Kal’s exposed cheek. Neither of them stirred at Lois’ presence in the room. Fasa’s paw twitched once or twice, as did his nose, but he was only engrossed in a dream.

Despite herself, Lois cracked a small smile. She couldn’t deny that the sight was heartwarming. And any man that would allow an animal to sleep on his face like that couldn’t be all bad, could he? At the very least, she was now sure that Kal hadn’t lied to her. It was obvious that the cat hadn’t been some ploy to get her to trust him. And yet, it wasn’t enough to change her mind about things. She still had every intention of finding a way out of this marriage.

And she still found herself funneling her anger towards the prince. Some part of her recognized that she was being a little unfair. He was simply the only accessible target that she had. She couldn’t take out her anger on the Supreme Lord. And her father was now miles away, wrapped up in his laboratory work; of that, she was certain. Did he even miss her? Lois doubted it. He’d barely acknowledged her existence when she’d been living at home with him. He was always too busy with his work and his mistresses.

But, as she stared down at the sleeping man on the couch, a thought came to her. Perhaps she would watch Kal more closely. Perhaps he wasn’t the spoiled little rich boy that she had anticipated being married to. Though she hadn’t known him long, he hadn’t actually done or said anything that remotely matched what she would have considered a spoiled prince to do. She knew, however, that it could all be an act. Time would tell. He would either remain the same cordial young man she’d been exposed to thus far, or he would grow bored of the act that he was putting on and show his true colors. She knew that she had all the time in the world. She could sit and watch and wait.

Kal began to stir and Lois quickly back-pedaled out of the room. She had only enough time to see Kal smile in his half awake state and reach up to pet Fasa’s head. She fled to the safety of the bedroom and took a seat in the plush reclining chair that stood by the window. Lois nervously picked up her book and pretended to read. A few minutes later, she heard Kal shuffle to the doorway. She looked up when he knocked on the open door.

“Good morning,” he offered, as politely as he could. He rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and yawned.

“Good morning,” Lois said, keeping her voice flat and neutral.

“Sleep well?” Kal asked.

“Well enough.”

“I just need a minute to grab some clothes,” Kal said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh…go right ahead.”

“Thanks.”

Kal quickly grabbed an outfit and went off to get changed. As he pulled on his shirt, he couldn’t help but to feel a little hopeful. He and Lois had just had a small conversation and she hadn’t taken her anger out on him. Granted, it hadn’t been much of a conversation, but it was a start. In his mind, he could hear his father’s voice. The Supreme Lord was fond of the saying “on the long road, take small steps.” And a lifetime of being married to Lois was certainly going to be a long road. Even a baby step like the successful conversation that they had just shared was a step in the right direction. Or, at least, Kal hoped it was.

He took his time as he shaved and then dressed for the day. His thoughts kept spinning back to Lois. How could he ensure that they continued to have peaceful exchanges? Would breakfast be any less awkward than dinner had been the night before? Had there been some turning point for Lois, where she had decided not to act as if Kal was the bad guy? He shook his head as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He simply didn’t know. And that held a certain amount of uneasiness for him. He wished he knew how to handle this situation.

Finally deciding that he could no longer hide out in his bathroom, Kal exited and knocked on the bedroom door again. Lois set aside her book once more. She looked at him expectantly.

“Can I come in?” Kal asked.

Lois shrugged. “It’s your room.”

“No,” Kal said, shaking his head, “it’s not my room anymore. It’s yours.”

He wanted to add that maybe one day it would be theirs, a place that they shared equally, but he held his tongue. A thought like that would only infuriate Lois. Lois looked at him a moment, as though trying to determine if he was making a joke.

“Come in,” she said at last.

Kal did as he was bid. He sat shyly on the edge of the bed, facing Lois as she sat in the chair. He ran his hand through his hair, looking for a place to begin.

“I, uh, thought you might like to know what will probably happen today,” he said finally, dropping his eyes to the room’s thick beige carpeting.

“Oh?”

Kal nodded, encouraged when Lois failed to explode at him. “We’ll be expected to have breakfast in the main hall. The Elders will most likely be there. There will probably be some discussion about some matter or another. Then my father, Ching, and I will go to the main receiving hall. Once a week, we hear petitions from the commoners and lesser nobles. Depending on how many we have, we could be there all day. So I won’t see you for lunch. We’ll all be together again at dinner, then the rest of the night we’ll all get some free time.”

“So…I’m expected to do…what, exactly?”

“Nothing,” Kal said. “You’ll have all day to yourself. I can arrange for Jak, my personal attendant, to take you into the city if you’d like. Jai and Zara won’t be hearing the petitions, so they’ll be around if you want some company.”

“Why won’t they be hearing petitions?”

“Jai isn’t a full-blooded prince, and therefore can never ascend to the throne. The law doesn’t explicitly forbid him from hearing petitions, but the Elders frown on his presence. So he almost never sits in with us. And Zara is a woman. The law actually does forbid her to sit in on the petitions.”

Kal saw Lois’ color rise in anger even before she spoke. He held his breath, knowing that she was about to explode.

“That’s ridiculous!” she said, fairly fuming. “She’ll be the Supreme Lord’s wife one day, when Ching ascends the throne.”

Kal nodded, surprised that, for once, she wasn’t finding a way to blame him. It was true that Lois’ voice had risen and that she was angry, but he could tell, just by the way that she held herself, that she was furious at the situation, and not with him. Grateful for that fact, Kal pressed on.

“I know. And I agree. But the way that the laws are now, Zara will never have any true power. Ching and I both hate it. Our hope is to one day change the laws. We’d like to see equality…for men and women, for trueborn children and those who aren’t.”

“I thought you said that the Elders were pretty stubborn.”

“That’s true, but Ching and I hope to influence future decisions on who else is initiated into the Council. If we can do that, we can hopefully find others who believe as we do. If we can successfully fill enough positions with like-minded individuals, then we can one day amend and change the existing laws. It’ll take us probably all of our lives, but we feel that strongly about it.”

“Why…why are you telling me all of this?” Lois looked at Kal as though she thought his confessions suspicious.

“I…just thought that you’d like to know. I didn’t want you to think that I was abandoning you this afternoon. And that…well…the circumstances aren’t exactly as I would like them to be.”

“That isn’t what I meant.” She shook her head. “I mean, why tell me about all of your future plans?”

Kal shrugged. “You’re my wife, whether you and I like this marriage or not. You are my equal. From the moment that I said my vows, I also pledged to withhold no secrets from you. Lois, I want you to know everything there is to know about me. I don’t want you to feel like there’s a part of me that is hidden from you. And, I need you to know all of my plans, my thoughts, my beliefs, my hopes for Krypton’s future. There is a very real possibility that we’ll never find a loophole to get out of this contract that our fathers forged. And one day, I will be helping Ching run this planet. I can’t do that without all of the support that I can get. My hope is that we can be friends, and that I’ll have your support when I need it. You’ve proven to me just now that you hold some of the same ideals that I do.”

Lois nodded, thoughtful. She glanced at the clock on Kal’s bedside table as she sought something to look at. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to look at her husband at the moment. She wasn’t sure that she even could. For Kal’s part, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

“I guess we’d better get going,” she said at last, her voice sounding somehow uncertain in the wake of all Kal had just divulged. “It wouldn’t be proper to show up late.”

Kal nodded silently, though he wondered what Lois felt about his confession.

Once more, they walked through the palace halls together. Kal’s spirits were much higher than the previous day. Though Lois had become angry when he’d explained things about Zara and Jai, she hadn’t directed her fury at him. It was a huge relief to him, though he dared not hope too much that things would soon be patched between them. He’d actually been thrilled that Lois had been upset over Zara’s lack of power. He felt the same way over the disparity between the way that Krypton treated its men and women. Though Kal knew that he’d never ascend the throne, it had become one of his personal projects to one day influence a change in the laws. In some ways, he actually enjoyed the challenge that it presented.

Kal found himself more intrigued by his wife than ever before. Before, he’d only found himself attracted to her looks. Now, perhaps, he could find himself attracted to her mind too. He wanted to tell Lois this. He really did. But he couldn’t find the words. And it was too soon for him to know much about the stranger who shared his living quarters. He knew that he’d have to find some way of breaking past her defensive walls and getting to really know her. He just had no idea how he might accomplish that.

They were the last to arrive at breakfast. Already, Jor-El and the Elders were deep in conversation about a potential new trade route with a distant planet. Kal personally didn’t like the idea. The Algonians had products that might be useful to Krypton, but he just didn’t trust the people. They were a harsh, warlike race of beings. Kal feared that accepting them as trading partners would make the planet vulnerable to them. He found himself lending his opinions to the discussion, though it put him at odds with several of the Elders, including Trey. Kal shook his head to himself. Trey was a good man and extremely intelligent, but far too trusting sometimes. One day, his blind faith would cause trouble; Kal was certain of that.

After breakfast was over, Kal only had a few minutes to speak with Lois in private. She declined his offer to go into the city, even though Zara offered to go with her. Kal sighed. Lois was still resisting any inclination that she might have towards growing more comfortable with her situation and surroundings.

For her part, Zara did her best to try and engage Lois in conversation, but Lois claimed a headache and headed back to her rooms. Kal only hoped that Lois would change her mind. He thought that perhaps Zara had the best chance of getting his wife to open up. Wasn’t that part of what female friendships were about? Telling each other things that they would never tell a man? Helping one another through their personal problems? Kal chewed his lower lip in thought as he followed his father and the Elders to the main receiving hall to hear the week’s petitions.

Once in the wide, long room, Kal barely glanced at the various marble busts and rich tapestries that adorned the walls. He didn’t take note of the thick red carpet that ran down the center of the room, or of the exquisite details that were worked into it with gold and silver thread. He simply took his seat at Jor-El’s left hand, while Ching sat on the right. The Elders took their seats in a series of raised benches off to the left side of the room. A silver bell was struck, and one of the young servants entered the room. He bowed before the Supreme Lord and the two princes, then begged permission to bring in the week’s petitioners. Jor-El nodded, and the young man hurried to open the wide doors to allow the nobles and commoners in.

As usual, the noblemen and noblewomen were the first to have their petitions heard. Kal always disliked this part of the process. All of the nobles had such petty problems. This lord broke his oath to send money to that lady’s cause. This lord accused that lord of cheating while dueling. This lady sought a way to ensure that that lord pledged his son to marry her daughter. It disgusted Kal. He felt it to be a waste of time. The commoners were the ones who usually truly needed the help. There were always disputes over land boundaries or those seeking justice against some thief. Occasionally, there were impassioned pleas for work. One of those arose this morning.

A young man of perhaps fifteen presented himself to the Supreme Lord. His parents, he said, were dead, and he had a twin sister to look after. He’d tried in vain to find work, but no one would give the young orphan a chance. Was there any way that the Supreme Lord could help them? Jor-El rubbed his chin in thought.

“You look like a strong boy,” Kal offered.

“Thank you, my lord. I am. I can work hard.”

“How old are you?”

“I’ll be sixteen in two months, my lord.”

“We could train him to join the palace security,” Kal said to his father. “You know that Bilan Hend’son could always use more on his staff. He’s forever mentioning it.”

Jor-El nodded. “A wise suggestion.” To the boy, he said, “Do you believe that you could handle the responsibilities that are inherent in such a position?”

The young man nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord. I will not let you down. I swear it.”

“That is good. Report to my Chief of Security. Gen Arry here will take you to him.”

The young man bowed deeply, still uttering his thanks. He did not stop until Gen Arry, one of the top security officers, led him from the room to report to the Chief of the Palace Security.

Another petitioner stepped forward. Kal tried to pay attention. But as the hours progressed and the line of petitioners continued to move, he found himself losing focus from time to time.

He wondered what Lois was up to. Had she changed her mind? Was she spending time with Zara? With Jai? He doubted that she was with his younger brother. She’d looked positively furious when she’d discovered that Jai opted to utilize the services of the palace concubines. He decided that she was probably avoiding Jai. Or had she possibly changed her mind about going into the city? He’d given her Jak’s number so that she could contact him if she chose to spend the day out. Or was she holed up in his…their…personal chambers?

He wished that he could go to her and possibly continue the process of melting the titanic block of ice that was between them. But he couldn’t leave, not even when the silver bell rang again, indicating an hour’s break to eat lunch. There just wasn’t enough time. Instead, Kal distractedly munched on his sandwich.

“You seem to be in slightly better spirits today,” Jor-El observed.

Kal shrugged. “A little.”

“Things getting better with Lois?”

Kal shot a look at the Elders, but the men were all deeply engrossed in their own conversations. He shrugged again.

“Not much,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “We talked a little today and didn’t wind up in a fight. So…I guess things are a little better.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Ching said, trying to be helpful.

“I know. I just wish that things could get better, faster.”

“Patience,” Jor-El reminded him. “On the long road…”

“…take small steps. Yeah, I know.”

“She didn’t seem all that keen on getting to know Zara,” Ching said, thinking aloud.

Kal nodded. “I think she’s trying to make herself dislike everyone and everything. She doesn’t have another outlet for her frustrations.”

The young prince went silent as his own words echoed in his mind.

Was that why Lois kept lashing out at him? Was she forcing herself to hate him just because she felt as though she had no other power in their relationship? Was it because he was the safest, and only, attainable target? Perhaps he should stop feeling sorry for himself. Perhaps he should stop taking her anger personally. Maybe she would grow tired of trying to hate him and come to be more open to forming a potential friendship with him, at the very least. He thought that he could live with that.

“Kal?” Ching asked. “Hello? Krypton to Kal…are you there?”

Kal shook his head, scattering his thoughts. “Huh? What?”

“Are you okay? You just completely spaced out on us.”

“Sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts,” Kal apologized.

“Let me guess. It was unfamiliar territory?” Ching teased him.

Kal laughed, and gave his brother a light punch in the arm. “You would know about that better than I would, bro.”

Jor-El tolerantly shook his head as he watched the antics between his two oldest children.

Soon, the bell rang again and more petitioners entered the chamber. Kal once again did his best to keep focused, and for the better part of the afternoon session, he was successful. But as the afternoon wore on, he once again found his mind wandering. He was almost eager to see Lois again. He still wasn’t sure what he could say or do to help her get more comfortable around him, but he was determined to find some way of doing that. When the last of the petitioners had been heard, dealt with, and escorted back out, Kal breathed a sigh of relief. He stood and stretched, working the kinks out of his body from having sat in one position for too long. That was always the worst part of the process for him. He’d much rather be on the move - working out in the gym, or walking in the gardens, or any number of other physical activities.

He wished that he had time now to take a quick walk, but it was almost time for dinner. He would only have enough time to try and find Lois. He walked through the palace with Ching, glad for the company. They spoke together in low voices, subdued from the long hours of sitting at court. Ching offered his brother a smile as they reached Kal’s chambers.

“Good luck,” he said, knowing that Kal and Lois still had plenty to work through. “See you in a bit.”

“Thanks.”

Kal opened the door to his living quarters. As always, Fasa greeted him at the door, rubbing against his legs and meowing. Kal bent down and scratched the cat behind the ears, then straightened.

“Lois?” he called out.

“In the living room,” she said.

Kal swiftly covered the distance and found Lois alone. She was watching the video screen. A very old movie was playing and Lois did not shift her gaze from it. Kal flopped into one of the armchairs, watching Lois. The movie came to an end and Lois turned the screen off. She seemed indecisive as to whether or not she was going to speak. Kal rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, sitting in the main hall and listening to the petitions felt like it drained his energy. Today had been one of those days, as there had been a few particularly hairy situations to deal with.

“So,” Kal asked, cautiously, “what did you wind up doing today?”

“Nothing much,” Lois said in clipped tones. “I watched some old movies that I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Alone?”

Lois fixed him with a cold stare. “No, I invited all of Krypton to come in and watch with me.”

“I just thought that maybe you would have wanted some company, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t in the mood, okay?”

Kal put his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Okay. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

But Lois’ anger seemed to have been once more fueled. It was as if she was trying to make up for lost ground from the civil conversation they had shared that morning. Kal’s heart sank again. His plan to find some common ground with Lois was dashed before he could even figure out how to implement it. He waited for the inevitable, and Lois didn’t disappoint.

“No, don’t give me that. You meant something by that remark. So, come on. Man up and spit it out.”

“I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought that maybe you were…I dunno. A little lonely? I mean, you’ve been uprooted from everything that you knew and stuck here. That can’t be easy. I know that I would be feeling lonely, if it had happened to me.”

Lois’ eyes flashed in anger. Kal slumped his shoulders in defeat. Before she could argue back, he stood and crossed to the windows. He looked out over the gardens that he so dearly loved and wished again that his mother was still around. Maybe she would know what to say or do to help smooth out his relationship with Lois.

The wall clock chimed softly. Kal looked up and sighed. It was time for dinner. But his appetite had fled.

Lois was quiet at dinner, as she had been at every meal so far. So was Kal. He spoke very little, even though his brothers did their best to pull him out of his shell. Ching, in particular, looked worried at the sudden change in Kal. Kal ate even less than he spoke. He felt badly about how things were going with Lois. It made him feel slightly ill, if he were to be perfectly honest. He pushed around the food on his plate. Finally, dinner was over and he could leave the dining hall.

He was grateful when Lois went to bed early. Then he swiftly changed into his workout clothes. He again strapped his music player to his left arm, put in the earphones, then blasted the music to drown out the rest of the world. Straight down to the gym he went, nearly running in his desire to get to that sweet haven of his. He’d always found working out to be a great way to funnel his frustrations into something proactive. It was as though the more sweat that poured from his body, the lighter he felt emotionally, as though it purged both physical and mental toxins from his body. It helped him to focus his thoughts when he needed to, or transported him away from his problems, depending on how he channeled his thoughts.

On this night, Kal simply focused his anger and frustration into movement. A well-worn punching bag received some of his pent-up frustration. He wasn’t a violent man by any means, but it felt good to work his muscles and focus only on his movements and the sensations that his body felt in response. It felt good to feel the burning in his muscles as he worked them. For three long hours, Kal moved from machine to machine, working every part of his body until his entire being was exhausted and his bad knee was on fire. He staggered back to his rooms, threw himself into the shower, then promptly passed out on the couch.

What he did not know was that Lois heard him when he returned. She hadn’t been sleeping all that well in the unfamiliar setting, and had been jarred awake when Kal slipped into the room to grab some fresh clothes, though he’d been as quiet as possible. Her curiosity was peaked. Just where had Kal been? She thought it likely that he’d been visiting the concubines. For some inexplicable reason, the idea infuriated her. True, she knew that she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t care who he invited into his bed, or whose bed he climbed into. But that hadn’t really been the truth. She wanted nothing to do with the prince, but yet, she also didn’t want anyone else to be able to lay any sort of claim to him. Was it just possessiveness on her part?

She admitted to herself that it might be. But she also knew that it also stemmed from the anger she’d always held towards her father. Not only had he traded her life away for a chance to climb the social ladder, but he’d never been a faithful man to his own wife. Lois blamed him for her mother’s depression and drinking problems, though she knew that the latter had started even before Samm had begun his affairs with some of the other lower born noblewomen. It simply galled her that the young prince was so like her own father. She wanted to cry, but she refused to allow herself to do so. A better idea formed in her mind instead. She’d trap Kal in his lie that he never visited the concubines. She’d keep an eye out. If Kal continued to disappear, she would start to shadow his movements at night and expose him for that cad that he was. Smiling to herself for the first time in weeks, Lois dropped off to sleep.

***

The very next day, Lois began to keep a careful watch on her husband. She discreetly watched every move that he made when she was around him, from the way that he cut his food to the way that he spoke to the people around him. His clothing, the way that he carried himself, the hand motions that he used when he spoke - Lois scrutinized it all. And she kept a running tally of how many times he disappeared at night. Her fears were confirmed when she realized that he snuck out more often than not. She decided that the time had come for her to begin to shadow his movements around the palace.

Still, she had to admit that the more that she watched Kal, the more he surprised her. He was so unlike the spoiled, rich brat she had anticipated being married to. He was, instead, friendly and warm to everyone that he came across, even the lowliest of the palace staff. He had no airs to him. Lois saw him on more than one occasion rush to help one of the hired staff. She had watched as he ran ahead to open a door for a woman whose arms had been full with an overflowing basket of neatly folded laundry. She had watched him as he had stopped a courier when the young man was rushing through the palace, and offered to deliver the messages the man had for Ching and Jor-El. Lois had even seen Kal help the kitchen staff as they unloaded a truck filled with food. She had watched in awe as he’d slung a bulging sack of flour over his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. When some of the white powder trickled out of the bag and onto his black shirt, Lois had been sure that Kal would get angry. Instead, he had only laughed and brushed it from his clothing with a smile on his lips. Then he had joked around with Jon, the master chef.

When Kal was with his brothers and Zara, Lois saw a whole other side to him. Any sort of formality fell away to reveal a man who was quick to laugh and possessed a wry sense of humor. His smile came easily when he was with them - a devastatingly bright and wonderful thing. Lois found it hard not to be affected by it. When Kal was with the others, he seemed to be the eternal optimist, always trying to find a good spin on things, even when circumstances were less than ideal. He had a sharp, quick wit, and Lois envied how easily the jokes flew from his tongue.

On a couple of occasions, Lois had joined Kal, Zara, Ching, and Jai when they went into the city. It had surprised her when they had entered their favorite bar and ordered a round of food and drinks. Lois had anticipated that they would be going someplace fancy. The place wasn’t exactly run down, but it was clear that it was in need of some work. But none of them seemed to notice. If anything, Lois thought that the group relaxed even further while they were there.

At first, Lois had thought that maybe Kal had chosen the place to subtly prove a point about the kind of man that he was. But she dismissed the thought when she realized that no one was staring at the group of young royals, and because the barkeep so familiarly brought over a set of darts after the meal was through, in anticipation of the rounds that they usually played before leaving the establishment. It was more than obvious that they often frequented the place. And when they had wandered through the city, Lois had watched Kal’s polite and attentive interactions with those who were bold enough to approach him. It was hard for Lois to hide her smile when Kal stopped to sink a basketball into a hoop when they passed a small park and the children within had called to him.

At meal times in the palace, Lois kept her eyes and ears open. She watched every move that Kal made, considered every word that he said. She grew more surprised as she listened to Kal as he spoke with his father and the Elders. His words were always thoughtful and he always seemed to weigh them in his mind before he spoke. It didn’t make him the most talkative one of the bunch, but it made his words insightful and well planned. And as Lois began to really listen to what he was saying, she caught even deeper glimpses into Kal’s heart and mind. Always, his thoughts seemed to be focused on what would be best for the common citizens of Krypton. He was mindful of the nobles as well, but his real concern lay with the lowest members of society. It often put him at odds with the Elders, but that never seemed to bother or sway Kal at all.

But when he was alone with her, Kal was a different person entirely. He became shy and withdrawn. He spoke very little. His smiles were scarce. His sense of humor vanished. Lois knew that it was mostly her fault. Kal remained ever cordial to her, but she often loosed her anger on him. She knew that what she was doing wasn’t fair. But anytime she felt herself growing attracted to the man that she was married to, she remembered his disappearances at night and the fact that she had not chosen this marriage. Then her ire would rise and she’d verbally attack Kal. Each time, she would see the hurt in his eyes, and he’d grow somber, cold, and distant again. Any progress that he’d made in loosening up around her would be lost in a flash. After a time, it seemed that he stopped trying to get on her good side altogether. His disappearances grew more frequent, and grew much longer in length. And Lois grew angrier each time.

True, some nights, Kal chose to stay within their chambers. Lois was able to discreetly watch him from the hall each time that he chose to stay in for the night. Most of the time, she watched as he settled in to watch a game on the video screen. He kept the sound as low as possible, mindful that Lois was supposedly sleeping a few doors down the hall. His cheers were hushed whispers and fist pumps into the air whenever the Red Suns scored. A few times, Kal invited his brothers in to watch with him, and Lois was impressed that even they were mindful of keeping the noise level to the barest minimum.

Other times, Kal simply relaxed with a glass of wine or a cup of coffee and settled in on the couch or an armchair with a book. He seemed to devour them. In the month that they had been married, he’d plowed through at least six sizable books that Lois was aware of. Still other times, Kal sat with his computer on his lap, typing the night away. Lois was curious as to what he was doing on it. Was he writing up proposals to bring before his father and the Elders? Was he making his plans to meet with his concubines? Lois simply didn’t know and it drove her crazy. During the days when Kal was busy with his royal duties, Lois tried to find out. But, she just couldn’t get past the password protection on the machine.

A few of the nights, Kal merely lay on the floor, playing with his cat. Kal would dangle a toy for the cat to attack or use a tiny red laser to make Fasa run about the room. At first, Lois thought it was cruel of Kal to do that. After all, the cat would never capture the miniscule red dot on the floor. But as she watched, she grew to understand that the cat looked forward to these playtimes, and got excited whenever Kal neared the drawer of the side table where he kept the small device. Fasa would attentively sit before Kal on the floor, golden eyes wide and expectant until the laser appeared.

It didn’t take a genius to see that Kal was devoted to the little animal, and that the cat was just as devoted to Kal. It was not a rare sight for Lois to see the two snuggled up together on the couch or in a chair. Oftentimes, Fasa would wedge his head beneath Kal’s chin and go to sleep, while Kal quietly stroked the animal’s back and watched the video monitor or read. It was a heartwarming sight, and even Lois couldn’t find a way to twist that back on Kal in some negative light.

Lois found herself becoming closer to Zara as the days marched on, despite her best efforts to stay as aloof as possible. She thought that Zara was a sweet woman, and envied the fact that the other woman had not been forced into a loveless marriage. And, she had to admit, Kal had been right when he’d guessed that Lois was lonely. She missed her sister terribly, at any rate. In some ways, it was nice to be away from her mother and father’s incessant fighting and verbal brawling, though now she was living a similar situation with the young prince. Instead of being a bystander of the verbal warfare that she’d grown up in, she was now an active participant. So to ease some of her loneliness, she sometimes spent time with Zara, and as a result, a friendship started to form between them. It helped Lois to have another woman to talk with, even if she studiously avoided talking about Kal with her.

As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to a full month since their wedding day, Lois noticed something interesting. The days when she and Kal managed not to fight were usually the nights when Kal stayed within their chambers. But if they fought, Kal was almost guaranteed to sneak out of the chambers at night once he thought Lois was asleep. Lois was certain that Kal was drowning whatever sorrows he had in some concubine’s bed. At least he had the decency to go to them, she thought often, though not without disgust. At least he wasn’t bringing them back to his chambers and forcing Lois to wander aimlessly while he lay with another woman, or worse, doing so while she was in the chambers still. It was enough of a thought to make her stomach roil and her anger rise.

After the first month was up, Lois grew bolder. She began to follow Kal whenever he slipped away in the night, hoping to catch him in his lies. She would go to bed and pretend to sleep, listening intently for Kal to make his move. When he would finally slip away, she would follow from a distance, hiding behind whatever she could, just in case Kal ever turned to look back. But he never did, always being either too distracted to notice his second shadow, or with his music blasting in his ears, making him oblivious to all else that was around him. Lois was thankful for that, and for the fact that Kal always chose to slip away at late hours when the whole palace seemed to be asleep. No one witnessed her attempts at sleuthing out the truth.

For two months, Lois followed Kal, but she never caught him meeting with any women, or men, for that matter. The thought that Kal might have different tastes had crossed her mind on more than one occasion as she pondered why he refused to even bring up the topic of their marital duties, even when they were getting along.

Instead, she found herself following Kal either out into the gardens or to down to the gym in the basement level of the palace. In the gardens, he merely walked, usually with his portable music player strapped to his arm. Sometimes he jogged, using only the small pools of light from the lights that lined the pathways to see by, along with moon and starlight. Lois did not follow him the first few times, but then began to wonder if his little trysts were taking place deep within the gardens under the cover of darkness. So she began to follow him through the gardens whenever he went out into them. And still, she found him to be doing nothing more insidious than taking a late night walk or run. Sometimes, he would break from his jogging and lean against a tree, looking up into the vast expanse of stars above. He would stay like that for a long while, sigh, and then go back to his running.

Whenever the weather was bad, and sometimes even when it wasn’t, Lois followed Kal down to the gym. The first time, Lois had wondered with disgust if Kal’s women were meeting him there, but even she had to admit that the idea was pretty farfetched. And yet, she liked it best when he sought refuge in the gym. For in that place, she found that luck was with her. The gym had one wall of sound-proof two-way glass. Lois was able slip into the room behind the glass, and watch to see what Kal was up to.

He would disappear only for a minute or two, and reemerge with a towel around his neck and a plastic bottle of water. Then he would speak aloud, activating either the video screens to watch his favorite team play or turning on the music system. Lois didn’t recognize a lot of the music, but it almost all had upbeat tones that she figured would be a great motivator to work out to. Some of it even had her tapping her toes, despite her efforts to remain neutral and her desire to stay annoyed. Some of the music she recognized as being classical, though it had been reworked as rock and roll, with swifter, heavier beats. Those were the ones that she liked the best, though she never stayed for very long. Kal gave her no reason to stay. He’d hop on a treadmill or another machine and lose himself to his workout. And his visits to the place almost always lasted for an hour or better, most often closer to two hours.

Lois had no real reason to mistrust that he was only working out when he was there. She watched as his body grew even leaner, tauter, and more muscular over the course of the two months that she spied on him. She had to admit that he’d been in top physical form when she’d first met him. That hadn’t been too difficult to notice. But somehow, he became even more toned and stronger as time went on. Had the circumstances been different, she might have even allowed herself to admit that he was attractive. He was, in fact, the most attractive, most handsome man that she had ever seen. And when they weren’t fighting, he was one of the most decent men that she’d ever known. His personality made him even more attractive to her eyes.

Three months had now passed since their forced marriage. And Lois had failed to find anything suspicious about Kal. She found herself unsure of whether she was relieved about that or not. On the one hand, Kal seemed to be genuine. He hadn’t lied to her. He wasn’t cheating on her with anyone else. On the other hand, it meant that she had been wrong about him. And Lois hated being wrong.

She was annoyed. Annoyed that Kal was a good man. Annoyed that she had misjudged him. Annoyed that there was no way out of this marriage. Annoyed that, despite her best efforts, she found herself falling under his spell. And she took it out on Kal.

One fine, sunny morning, she erupted in savage fury at Kal for no good reason. She wasn’t even sure why. But it was her worst outburst yet. Kal actually paled as he stood in the path of her wrath, looking for all the world like a stricken animal. She had even seen a glimmer of a tear form in one of his soft brown eyes. Chocolate eyes. Like the chocolates he had brought her. The very gift that had caused her to explode.

Kal had not been in their rooms when Lois had awoken that morning. She had been a little taken aback by that. They had just had three days of relative peace between them. Kal hadn’t snuck out of the rooms at night. He’d even begun to open up around her a little, though he seemed to attempt to keep as much distance as he could. But within fifteen minutes of Lois climbing out of bed that morning, he had returned. A pleased smile had been on his lips and he had handed her a red velvet box filled with expensive, rich chocolates. Lois had been touched by the gesture, but instead of thanking him, she’d gone on a twenty minute rant. She had accused him of all sorts of horrible things, including that he was trying to buy her love.

When she was done, Kal’s shoulders had been slumped in defeat and lines of misery marred his face. He’d left without another word. Perhaps he had been too stunned to speak. Perhaps he’d felt on the verge of saying something that he would regret, and had left in order to not voice it. Lois had simply watched him go. She hadn’t tried to stop him.

Now, sitting alone in their chambers, Lois slowly cooled off. She began to even feel a little guilty about her outburst, and more than a little sorry for having snapped. She wondered what Kal was doing, what he was thinking. She wondered if she ought to apologize for her behavior. After all, Kal hadn’t actually done anything wrong. But he never returned to their chambers, nor did he attend the meals in the main dining hall. Part of Lois worried that she had really crossed the line this time.

Late that night, Kal finally returned from wherever he’d been all day. He was only in their rooms for a few brief minutes to check on Fasa, then he left again just as quickly. He did not speak. He did not even look at Lois. But Lois looked at Kal. There was still a world of pain in his eyes and an air of depression around him. As always, Lois made the decision to follow her husband. This time, however, the motivation was borne of a desire to make sure that he was all right, rather than a gnawing suspicion of what he might be up to.

As silent as any shadow, Lois followed Kal through the white marble halls of the palace. She knew Kal’s route well enough by now. She knew even before she saw him exit the building, that he was heading out into the gardens. Lois did notice, however, that he wasn’t dressed in his usual loose-fitting jogging clothes, nor did he have his music player with him. She bit her lower lip in thought as she followed him out into the night.

A heavy fog had fallen as the night had rolled in. It was thick enough to obscure everything around her. Still, she knew Kal’s path. She had to follow extra closely, to ensure that she didn’t lose him in the thick white fog. But, she reasoned, the same fog would also help to hide her from his eyes as well. So she pressed on. As she anticipated, Kal made a beeline for the rose gardens. But instead of standing in place or beginning to run as he always did, this time Kal found a bench and sat. Lois quickly hid herself behind a tall, full hedge. She was close enough to hear Kal’s heavy sigh, though it sounded somehow muffled in the blanket of fog. When he began to speak, Lois nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Mom,” Kal sighed. “I’ve all but given up. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried talking to Lois. I’ve tried giving her gifts. I’ve tried giving her some space. Nothing has worked. I’m out of ideas. I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s killing me. I want to make her happy. I really do. But…she hates me.” Kal’s voice was soft and low as he spoke aloud to the air around him.

A chill ran up Lois’ spine as Kal spoke to the empty garden. She suddenly felt very guilty about having followed Kal out here. Clearly this was a very private moment for him. Lois felt like an intruder. And yet…she couldn’t pull away, not just yet. She was curious as to what else Kal might have to say.

“This marriage…I’ve failed at it,” Kal continued. “What’s worse is that I’m ruining Lois’ life as well. Dad says to be patient. I’ve tried that. Nothing is working. You know what, Mom? I have never envied Ching before in my life. He’s the firstborn son, and the heir to the throne. I’ve never envied the pressures and responsibilities that go along with being the crown prince. He was betrothed since his birth, something that I once thought that I had escaped. But now…now I find myself envying his marriage. He loves Zara, and she loves him. Part of me has fallen for Lois. But she’ll never feel the same way. She’s made that clear enough.”

Kal paused and took a breath. When he continued speaking, his voice was thick with unshed tears. “I don’t need her to love me. But I can’t bear to be bound to someone who won’t even allow a friendship to sprout between us. I just…I don’t know how I can live my life like this. How can I make Lois live the rest of her life like this? It’s not fair to her. I just don’t know what to do.”

Lois swallowed around a lump that had taken up residence in her throat. The misery in Kal’s voice had broken through every defensive wall that she’d constructed. And what was more, she was stunned to realize that even after all that she had said and done to him over the last three months, he was still concerned about her, maybe even more than he was concerned about the state of his own heart. And Lois had to admit to herself that his heart couldn’t possibly be in any worse condition right now. She’d repeatedly torn it out of his chest and stomped all over it.

But yet, he was concerned with her feelings, her heart. He’d admitted it, out loud, though he hadn’t known that she was listening. He’d been genuinely remorseful over Lois’ unhappiness. He’d said that he wanted to make her happy. And what had she done? She’d been cruel to him, throwing salt into every wound that she managed to make. It was now her turn to feel badly.

“Please, send me some kind of sign, Mom,” Kal begged the night air.

Lois heard the absolute despair in Kal’s voice. She heard the quiet sobbing coming from the man. He sniffled a little, and Lois peeked around the hedge. Even through the fog, she could see his dark silhouette framed by the small pathway lights. She could see that his head was in his hands. She could see the shaking of his shoulders as he released his pent-up grief. In that moment, her heart sank.

She had done this to him.

He’d been nothing if not kind and accommodating towards her. He’d never forced himself on her. He’d been respectful of her space and her privacy. He’d tried to give her gifts. He’d tried to talk to her. And the only times that he’d grown angry and argued back with her, she had goaded him into it.

Perhaps it was time to make amends. Perhaps it was time to stop punishing him for something that was never his fault to begin with. Perhaps it was time to sit down and talk to him.

But not now.

Lois felt badly enough that she was spying on Kal right now. She certainly didn’t have the nerve to walk up to him and admit that she’d eavesdropped on such a private moment. She could always talk to him tomorrow. She turned and fled the gardens, as silently as she could. Tears were in her own eyes, now that she had seen the extent of what she’d done to Kal.

Back through the palace she breezed, until she was safely back in Kal’s chambers. Once there, she stripped out of her damp clothing. She was chilled to the very bone, so she took a hot, but quick, shower, and then changed into dry things. Her husband was still not back when she slipped into the large bed.

She tried to sleep, but it remained elusive. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her husband’s defeated form. Though Kal had spoken so quietly in the gardens, his words echoed in her mind, growing louder with every repetition until it seemed as though they had been screamed in her ears. She tossed and turned, though she could not shake the guilt that she felt, until she at last fell into an exhausted asleep.

Her sleep was anything but restful. She awoke often from her troubled dreams, which kept putting her back in the gardens over and over again. In the last of these dreams, she came upon Kal, not as a living man, but as a corpse swinging from a tall, sturdy tree. Around his neck was a sign that said simply, “Forgive me, Lois.”

She awoke with a heavy heart but a grim sense of determination. She would talk to Kal. She would hear him out and see what he had to say. And above all, she would not take her frustrations out on him. She only needed to find some uninterrupted time so that they could both get things out into the open and start clearing the air.

She swiftly got herself dressed and ready for the day. But she had slept later than she anticipated, so the prospect of speaking with Kal before breakfast was dashed. She accompanied him down to the main dining hall, but her courage had left her. She kept silent as they made their way through the palace and all throughout the meal.

After breakfast was finished, Kal, Jor-El, and Ching went to hear the week’s petitioners. Lois had forgotten about that. In the past, she had secretly looked forward to those days. It meant that she had no chance of running into the prince during the day. But today, the prospect of not seeing Kal until dinner time bothered her. Now that she had come to the decision to try to make amends, she wanted to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. She wasn’t used to admitting that she had been wrong, but she knew that in this case, she had to take that first, frightening step.

Dinner wasn’t the proper time to approach Kal either. Instead, Lois pushed the food around on her plate, eating very little. She noticed that Kal didn’t eat much either. Was he still troubled over their fight the previous day? Lois imagined that he was.

Once dinner was over, she walked in silence with Kal back to their rooms. Several times, she tried to gather up her courage to speak. But she wasn’t sure of where to begin. Each time, the words died in her throat before she could utter a sound. Once back in their chambers, she sat on the couch in the living room. Kal settled into one of the armchairs and began to skim through the channels on the video screen. He finally settled on a documentary about one of Krypton’s very first scientists, though Lois could tell that he was distracted and wasn’t really paying attention.

“Kal,” she finally said.

In an instant, his eyes were on hers. There was a wealth of apprehension swimming in those twin chocolate pools. But before she could utter another word, there was a knock on the door. Kal looked torn for a split second.

“Yes?” he asked her after a moment.

Lois sighed, her courage gone again for the moment. “Nothing. You’d better get the door.”

Kal looked uncertain but nodded slowly. He stood from his seat and went to answer the door. Lois heard the door open and Jai’s voice wafted through the rooms. She frowned. Of course one of Kal’s brothers would have to come calling on him just as she was about to have an important conversation with him.

“Hey,” Jai said, and Lois could hear the smile in the younger man’s voice, though she couldn’t see him. “I’m kind of bored. I was thinking of heading down to the gym. You want to come and spar with me?”

Kal hesitated for a second. Lois wondered if he was thinking of what she might have been about to say to him. But his indecision was over almost before it began. Lois knew that he was terrified of another fight with her. She also knew that he’d be willing to do anything to avoid having another fight.

“Sure,” he said at last. “I could use some exercise.”

“Great. I’ll meet you down there,” Jai said.

“See you in ten minutes,” Kal promised.

He shut the door as Jai departed, then ducked into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he reemerged dressed in his workout clothes. He was out the door before Lois could turn around to even look at him. For a while, she debated whether or not to go down to the gym and discreetly watch. She ultimately decided not to go, but after nearly two hours had passed, she grew more and more anxious. Finally unable to stand it any longer, she left the rooms and went down to the gym.

When she arrived, Jai was just leaving. From the room behind the two-way glass, Lois surveyed the gym and wondered if she should hurry back up to the rooms before Kal could return. But as she debated, Jai left and Kal turned to one of the various machines. It appeared that he was going to stay for a while longer. Lois pulled up a chair and turned the volume up in the room so that she could hear what was going on next door.

“Night,” Jai threw over his shoulder as he made his way out.

“Night,” Kal said back as he adjusted the weight stack on the machine he was sitting at. “And thanks. I really needed that.”

“I know. That’s why I came to ask you to join me, instead of asking Ching to come.”

“So good to know that I wasn’t your first choice,” Kal quipped.

“Sorry, bro, but he’s better with a drei than you are.” Jai shrugged.

“And I’m still better than you are,” Kal said, grinning, though it seemed forced.

Lois wondered if he was still fretting over their near conversation from earlier.

“See you in the morning,” Jai said.

“See you,” Kal echoed. “Sleep well.”

After Jai had gone, Kal commanded the computer system to play some music. Lois recognized it instantly. He often played this particular playlist when he worked out. Kal stretched and began to pull down the bars of the machine, working the muscles of his arms. Lois watched in fascination. Even through the material of his t-shirt, she could see the muscles of his body rippling and flexing with his movements. She had watched him at the gym before, but she’d never taken too much of an interest in what he was doing. She had always been too focused on whether or not he was meeting with other women. But now she watched him in rapt attention.

When he’d completed several sets on the arm machine, he wiped his brow with the red towel that was hanging around his neck. It perfectly matched his shorts, though those both clashed with his blue shirt. Lois had the fleeting impression of one of those superheroes on the shows that she had seen as a child. They had always had odd looking or strangely matched outfits.

As she watched Kal, he peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt and headed to one of the treadmills. He started to walk, but soon increased to a jog, then a fast run. Lois thought that his body was a thing of beauty as he easily kept up the pace that he had set. She watched as he ran and the music played, one song blending into another until she was unsure how many had played since Kal had first stepped foot on the machine. She watched as he slowed and wiped his sweaty brow. She watched as he took the white and red water bottle and took a few mighty swigs from it, never breaking his pace, never faltering in his steps. Then he sped back up again.

Lois wondered how many miles he covered as he legs ate up the distance. Five perhaps. Maybe a little more. But at last, Kal slowed and stopped. He hobbled over to one of the benches in the room, facing the two-way glass. Lois panicked for one split second, wondering if he somehow knew that she was watching. But in the next instant, she let out a shaky laugh. Of course he couldn’t see her. Kal wasn’t even looking at the mirrors that were on his side of the glass. He was methodically rubbing his knee, as though it pained him greatly. After a few minutes, he seemed to be feeling better and he stood again. He paced a little, testing the joint. Apparently satisfied, he gathered his belongings and made ready to leave the gym, powering down the music system with a few verbal commands.

Lois scurried out of the observation room and outright bolted back to the chambers that she shared with Kal. As she fled down the halls, she was thankful that there was no one to watch her progress. She reached the rooms and let herself in, then took a seat on the couch. For a minute, she struggled to calm her breathing and to compose herself. After another perhaps five or ten minutes, she heard Kal enter. She stood, steeling her nerves.

“Lois?” Kal said as he entered the living room. “I thought you’d be asleep by now. I was just down in the gym.”

He was still shirtless. Reflexively, he held his sodden blue shirt against his chest. Lois wondered if he was shy or if he was worried that his partially undressed state would offend her. Or perhaps he felt as though clinging to the shirt would somehow protect him from her usual wrath.

“I know,” Lois said gently. “Kal? Can we…talk? I…have some things…that I really need to speak with you about.”

Kal looked caught off-guard. His eyes grew wide and distrustful, as though he were trying to decide if he had done something wrong. Lois thought that he resembled a cornered animal. A terrified, cornered animal.

“Please?” Lois added, hoping to alleviate some of his fear.

Slowly, Kal nodded. He swallowed hard. “All right. But…I should probably get cleaned up first. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Lois said, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Kal quickly ducked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. His heart was racing, not from the time he’d spent in the gym, but in fear of the conversation that was now looming. He pressed his back to the wooden door and sighed. He’d thought for sure that Lois would be asleep by now. He stripped out of his sweat-drenched clothing, shoved it down the laundry chute, and turned the shower on as hot as he could stand. The hotter the water, the cleaner he felt.

As he stepped beneath the spray of water, his mind whirled and his stomach clenched. What could Lois possibly want from him? He was pretty sure that he hadn’t done anything wrong, at least not today. He’d barely even had time to say two words to Lois. Unless…was she angry that he’d chosen to go with Jai earlier when she’d tried to talk with him? Kal grabbed the soap and scrubbed his body angrily. Why had he done that? Mentally, he berated himself. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, he was certain that he’d be on the receiving end of Lois’ wrath once more.

He began to rinse the soap from his body. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation of the hot water on his tired muscles. As he stood there, appreciating the relief that it brought, another thought occurred to him. Lois hadn’t actually sounded mad. She hadn’t commanded him to speak with her. She hadn’t demanded that he sit down and talk right as he got back into the chambers. She had actually asked him if they could talk. She had said please. She had even sounded a little unsure of herself. It was almost enough to make Kal hopeful that maybe he wasn’t going to be subjected to another one of Lois’ verbal assaults.

Kal lingered in the shower as long as he could, then slowly dried, shaved, and dressed. He knew that he was stalling, and knew that Lois probably knew it as well. He combed his damp hair, then sighed as he stared into the mirror, leaning against the countertop. It took all of his nerve to finally exit the room and walk back to where Lois awaited him in the living room. But at the last moment, his courage abandoned him. He headed to the kitchenette instead.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asked her, still stalling.

“Sure.” She sounded just as scared to get into whatever discussion she had in mind.

Kal nodded absently, and prepared two mugs of steaming coffee. He fixed Lois’ cup first, remembering how she had made it on their first morning together. She’d never varied the amounts of sugar and cream, so he felt confident enough to make her drink for her. Then he fixed his own. With a mug in each hand, he entered the living room again. Lois had started to rise to go and fix her drink, but Kal handed her the one that he’d made for her.

“Thanks,” she said, sounding surprised.

“You’re welcome.”

He started to sit across the room in one of the armchairs, but Lois shook her head.

“Come sit on the couch with me?” She patted the empty cushion next to her. “Please?”

“I…all right,” Kal stammered, his heart hammering in his chest.

He moved across the room to the couch. After a second of indecision, he sat as far from Lois as he could. The middle cushion of the couch was both exceedingly small a space, and as wide as an ocean, all at the same time. Kal sat sideways on the couch, drawing his legs beneath him. His eyes dropped to his lap. He tried desperately to think of something to say. In fact, they both seemed to be struggling for a place to begin. They both took a sip from their mugs as they thought.

“How…how did you know how I like my coffee?” Lois asked after the first sip.

“I watched as you made it that first morning when we had breakfast in these chambers,” Kal said, staring into the depths of his own mug. “I thought that knowing how you like your coffee might..I don’t know…come in handy one day. I just haven’t had an opportunity before now to fix you a cup. Or the nerve. Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad.” He brightened a little inside.

They both lapsed into another silence. Once again, Kal found himself at a loss as to what he could say. Part of him was desperately curious about what Lois wanted to talk to him about. The other part of him dreaded it. He took a thoughtful sip of his drink, and savored the hot liquid as it coursed down his throat.

“Kal,” Lois said, breaking the silence for him.

“Look, Lois…I’m sorry,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “You wanted to talk earlier and I left with Jai. I’m sorry. You must be furious with me. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do anything to make you mad. At least…not intentionally.”

“Kal,” Lois said again, effectively silencing the prince. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I don’t?” Surprise flooded Kal’s voice and his eyes briefly flickered up to look at Lois.

“No,” she said. “If anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Kal said, scrutinizing her features, as though they would clue him in. “You haven’t done anything.”

“Sure I have,” Lois said. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’m so sorry for that. I know that it doesn’t sound like much. But it’s true. It’s just…this marriage…this whole situation…I haven’t taken to it very well.”

“Is it really that bad being married to me?” Kal asked in a small voice. He spoke so softly that Lois almost didn’t hear it.

“Oh…no, of course not,” she tried to reassure him, sliding a little closer to Kal. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s all been my fault. I’ve been frustrated and angry at this situation, and I’ve been taking it out on you. It wasn’t fair of me. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman and I’ve been…atrocious. I can’t believe that you’ve put up with me for this long.”

“It hasn’t been ideal,” Kal admitted, feeling uncomfortable. “But, well, I don’t blame you for being mad. And I don’t blame you for wanting to fight back. I haven’t enjoyed the circumstances surrounding this marriage either. But…what changed your mind? And why now?”

Lois sighed and shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed to admit this. But…I’ve been watching you these last three months.”

“Watching me?”

Lois nodded, her face flushing. “I’ve watched how you interact with people, to try to see what kind of man you are. I’ve even…followed you…when you’ve left the chambers at night. At first, I wanted to prove to you…and to myself…that you were a louse and that you deserved my scorn. I was so sure that you had lied to me about never bedding any of the concubines. I wanted to catch you in a lie. But, after a while, I realized that you hadn’t lied to me. It made me furious to see that you were doing nothing more sinister than taking a walk or spending a few hours at the gym.”

Kal arched an eyebrow, more amused than anything at Lois’ admission.

“And now?” He gave her a tentative smile.

She returned his smile with a small one of her own, one of the very first that Kal had seen from her, and one of the first that she had directed at him. She looked relieved that he wasn’t angry over her confession.

“Now, I’m glad that that’s all that you were doing. And I admit that I was wrong about you,” she said, her voice going soft. “Can you forgive me for all of the horrible things that I’ve said and done?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Kal said gently. “We’ve both done said and done some things that didn’t help matters. That much is true. But…I have no hard feelings towards you. And I’m willing to give this a second chance, if you are. I’d like for us to be friends, at the very least.”

“I’d like that,” Lois said, brushing a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, like a shy young girl.

“So…friends?” Kal asked, sticking his hand out towards Lois.

She took his proffered hand and shook it. “Friends.”

It was the first physical contact they had had since their hands had been bound at the marriage ceremony, and the first time they had touched under their own power. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity through the prince. He wondered if Lois had felt it.

Kal’s smile bloomed on his face as the last bit of his pent-up worries left him. He could do this. He could make a fresh start with his wife. For the last three months, he’d been craving the opportunity to put the fighting behind them and to give friendship the chance to take root. Now, it seemed that his prayers had finally been answered.

“What a mess this whole thing has been,” he said after a while, chuckling lightly and shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Kal said, shrugging, “up until two weeks before our wedding, I didn’t even know that your father had any children, let alone that I’d been promised to one of them. And now look at us.”

Lois’ eyes clouded for a moment, and Kal worried that he’d said something wrong. “My father rarely tells anyone about Luci and me.”

“Why not?” Kal was instantly attentive and frowning, all traces of his amusement gone.

“He’s always been ashamed that he never had any boys. The only thing he ever felt girls were good for was arranging marriages that would help him climb the social ladder. I can only imagine how much it must have thrilled him to have a clear opening to unload me on the Supreme Lord’s family.” Lois’ voice had turned bitter.

“I’m sure that’s not…”

“It is,” she said, cutting him off, though her ire was not directed at him. “And the thing is, it’s partly my fault. Despite tireless efforts from my family, I was never a proper young lady, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. I’ve always been loud and opinionated, and that drove my father crazy. It’s no wonder he would never allow you to meet me before the wedding. He was probably afraid that you’d run off rather than be stuck with a woman who can’t hold her tongue and who’d rather climb a tree than learn how to sew.”

“That just shows you how little your father knows about me,” Kal said, with a shy smile.

Lois looked at him quizzically. “What does that mean?”

“For the last three months, I’ve admired how unlike other women you are. Okay, so I haven’t enjoyed being on the receiving end of your frustrations, but I’ve liked that you question and challenge things. You’re not content to just take things as they are. I respect that. In fact, I’d always hoped that the woman I’d end up marrying would have a mind of her own. A mind like yours, to be perfectly honest. It’s pretty refreshing. You have no idea how boring it is being around noble young women who are more interested in playing the part of a proper young lady than in showing any sort of real personality. It’s like a slow death.” He grinned at her. “And, for the record, I have no use for a woman who sews,” he added in a teasing tone. “Now, a woman who will accompany me for a run, or out horseback riding, or in finding new issues to bring to the Elders’ attention…that’s the kind of woman I prefer.”

“You’re taking awfully well to the fact that I’ve just admitted to being the black sheep of the Lyne family,” Lois said, though she could not hide her grin.

Kal shrugged. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly your standard, garden-variety noble lord.”

Lois laughed, and Kal thought that he’d never heard so beautiful a sound before in all of his life.

“I’ve noticed,” she said.

“My father is okay with that, but it drives the Elders absolutely crazy.” Kal grinned, and his eyes sparkled. “Add to that fact that Ching and Jai are both like me…”

“That Elders aren’t big fans of that, huh? I mean, from what I’ve seen, they seem sort of…exasperated by you sometimes.”

Kal shook his head. “Yeah. The Elders have mostly stopped trying to discourage our behavior, but once in a while Trey or someone will try to talk us out of becoming too friendly with the commoners, or from going into the city without an armed escort, or roll their eyes when they catch one of us climbing a tree or something. It galls them that we never listen.”

“Why don’t you?”

Kal shrugged. “If the Elders had their way, my brothers and I would live in a protective bubble, never truly experiencing life. Our mother never wanted us to live like that. And neither does our father. That’s why he allows us as much freedom as he can.”

“That must be nice.”

“It is.” He nodded.

“My father was a lot more strict. I think that’s why Luci and I always resisted becoming proper young ladies. Well, at least, I did, a lot more than Luci did.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I really am glad that you’re not one.”

Lois grinned. “I never thought I’d hear that.”

“It’s true!”

“I believe you.”

“So…can I ask you something?” Kal asked, hesitantly.

Lois nodded. “Sure.”

“You said before that you followed me to see if I was going to the concubines. That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Lois nodded again. “It does. My father…he’s only a lesser noble, and he’s never had his own women on staff. But that has never stopped him from having affairs with some of the other lesser noblewomen. I thought…”

“You thought that I was just like him,” Kal said gently, finishing her thought.

“Yeah,” Lois said, nodding. “I know that I had no right to be mad, even if you were seeking them out. It’s part of your…privileges as a lord.”

Kal snorted his disgust at the idea. “If it was my decision, the practice would stop altogether. I believe that two people should be faithful to one another when they marry. Of course, I also believe that these arranged marriages should also stop. It isn’t right to, for all intents and purposes, sell people in exchange for the chance to better your own social network, or as a way to secure better business dealings. Your father sold you in marriage to try to provide for you. Mine sold me as a way to ensure that Ching lived. In both cases, we paid the price for our fathers’ business dealings.”

Lois smiled at him. “You know what? The more I get to know you, the more you surprise me.”

Kal smiled back. “In a good way, I hope.”

“In a very good way. In fact, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“Well, that’s good. Because we have a lifetime together to be friends. I want you to know, Lois, that you can talk to me about anything. You can ask me anything. I’ll never lie to you. I swear it. You deserve better than that.”

Lois was quiet for a couple of minutes before she ventured another question. “Kal…about that necklace you gave me on our wedding night. What was the real reason you gave it to me?”

Kal dragged a hand through his hair and his face flushed a little. “The day after my father told me that we were to be wed, I was in the city with my brothers. I was pretty upset over the news, and mourning what I saw as the loss of my freedom. I mean, I had always known that it could be a possibility, that’d I’d wind up having to wed whoever my father chose for me. But, I had begun to hope that I would be free to marry a woman of my own choosing. Anyway, they were sort of teasing me, trying to get me out of my bad mood. I was saying that I was worried over how we’d both take to this marriage. Jai said that I had a gift for worrying. That gave me the idea to get you something. I wanted to give you a gift to show you that I was open to giving this a shot, and that I hoped we could get along. I wanted to find something completely unique for you. I didn’t want to get you something that was so common that you’d see it everywhere. I wanted you to know that you’d be very special to me, no matter what happened or what the circumstance of our marriage was.”

Lois dropped her eyes to her nearly empty coffee cup. She began to fidget with it. “And I went and threw it at your head. Wow, did I ever make a good first impression.”

Kal smiled a little and shrugged. “I’ve had worse things thrown at me.”

Lois gaped. “You’re the prince! Who would have dared to throw something at you?”

Kal chuckled. “Okay, maybe not thrown at me, but the summer when I was eighteen, Ching and I went fishing. Ching caught a fish and hauled it to shore so fast and so enthusiastically that it went flying backwards and hit me right in the face.” Lois laughed as the image flashed before her eyes. “It took months before Ching and I could see a fish without bursting into a fit of laughter.”

The prince adjusted his position on the couch, shifting so that he could bring some relief to his knee. He knew that he’d been pushing himself too hard in the gym over the last couple of weeks. There had been times where he’d visited it two or three times in the course of a day. He rubbed the joint absently.

Lois nodded towards his knee. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Kal said, still rubbing the joint. “I’ve just been pushing myself a little too hard lately. And that has been causing my knee a little bit of pain in the last week or so.”

“If you have pain, why continue to push yourself?”

“It’s a little hard to explain,” Kal said with a shrug. “But, I find the gym to be kind of a haven of sorts. I can work out my feelings there - if I’m stressed or upset or just have a lot on my mind. I’ve just overworked my knee, that’s all. If it gets bad, I can ice it or take a painkiller. It’s no big deal.”

“What happened to it? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Kal sighed. “My brothers and I have all served some time in Krypton’s army. I was participating in some training exercises one day. I’m still not entirely sure how it happened. We were getting a lesson on the different types of explosives and how to handle them safely. One minute everything was fine. The next minute, things were going off. Everyone started to run, including me. There was a lot of fire, and smoke, and noise. I happened to look back and saw one of the guys laying on the ground. He’d been thrown by the force of one of the explosions. He was burnt badly, and he was dazed, but he was trying to get up. I was the only one who saw him, so I turned back. I was helping him get to safety when another explosive went off. The shockwave threw us several feet and I landed the wrong way on my knee. It was the only real injury that I suffered, thankfully. But it was enough to end my military service early. I don’t usually have any issues with the knee, unless I really put a lot of stress on the joint or it suffers a blow when my brothers and I spar.”

“And the other man?”

Kal shook his head sadly. “He didn’t make it. His burns and other injuries were too severe. He lived another two days, then died as an infection spread over his wounds, despite the doctors’ best efforts.”

Lois’ hand flew to her mouth. “That’s terrible!”

“Yeah. He was a good man, and my friend.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lois offered.

“Thanks,” Kal said sincerely.

The prince drained the last long swig from his coffee mug and grimaced. The liquid had gone cold as he had talked. Across the couch from him, Lois did the same. Kal was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“Would you like another cup?” he asked.

Lois shook her head. “No, but thanks. I’ll never sleep tonight if I have another one. I’ll be bouncing off the walls.”

Kal grinned playfully. “You know, that might be fun to watch. And certainly different from the Lois that I’ve seen so far.”

Lois laughed a little. “Yeah, not going to happen.”

“Can I ask you something?” Kal asked after another minute.

“Sure. It’s only fair.”

“Well, I don’t mean to sound offensive or anything. But…your name. It’s not Kryptonian, is it? I’ve never heard that name before.”

“It’s not,” Lois confirmed. “But my father is obsessed with the culture of some obscure little planet called Earth. He has been, ever since he first started as a research assistant before he moved on to becoming a doctor. In fact, he’s the one that got your father interested in the planet, from what I understand. Lois is some Earth name that he liked.”

“It’s a pretty name,” Kal offered, giving her a sincere smile.

“Really? I’ve never been all that fond of it.”

“Really. I like it. It’s unique and it seems to fit you somehow. There’s no other woman on Krypton like you, that’s for sure.”

Lois arched her eyebrow, trying to decide if that was a compliment or not. But Kal was smiling and he looked like he was telling the truth. Lois nodded her acknowledgement. A companionable silence fell between them.

“Can I ask you something else?” Kal asked after a couple of minutes. Embarrassment was in his voice and his face was flushed.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I know that you told me about why you view the concubines so…coldly. And I know you hate being forced into this marriage. But there’s something I still don’t quite understand.”

“What’s that?”

“Well,” Kal said, swallowing hard, but plunging ahead. “That first night. Our wedding night. I went to get changed for bed and came back out to find you…offering yourself to me. Then, the very next day you told me to stay away from you. It just doesn’t make any sense to me, whatsoever.” He shook his head for emphasis.

Lois sighed and frowned. She hadn’t thought of the mixed signals that she had likely sent out.

“All my life,” she finally said after a long pause to think, “I’ve been groomed to be your wife. I’ve been told what to do, what to say. It’s been drilled into my head what was expected of me, as the wife of a nobleman. That I’m supposed to walk two paces behind you. That I’m supposed to offer myself to you so that you can take your pleasure and so that I can produce your heirs. That first night…I was scared. All I could do was remember the lessons that had been driven into me for my whole life. I figured that you would be angry if I didn’t fulfill my end of the wedding night duties.”

“You were scared?” Kal asked, surprised. “Could have fooled me.”

Lois hung her head, ashamed. “When you told me to get dressed, I sensed that you were unlike what I had anticipated from a noble lord. And when you gave that necklace to me, I lashed out because I didn’t want to acknowledge that you seemed like you might actually be a decent guy. In fact, every single time I fought with you, I did it for the same reason. And, I’m embarrassed to say, you were the only target I had to vent my frustration and anger about the whole situation to. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to hurt you. Not because of who you are. But because…”

Kal cut her off with his soft voice. “…you had no other way to fight back against the situation.”

Lois nodded. “Exactly.”

“Oh, Lois,” Kal said, his voice soft and low. His heart was breaking for the breathtaking woman before him. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“You’re sorry?” she asked, incredulous. “I’m the one who should be sorry. And I am. I’m not proud of the way I handled things.”

“Hey now, no more apologizing,” Kal said gently. “What’s done is done. It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re giving this a fresh start, remember?”

Lois brightened. “True.”

Beyond the windows of the room, the twin moons had long since set. The night was growing old. Kal stretched and yawned mightily, despite his best effort to hold it in.

“I’m sorry,” Lois said, shaking her head. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” Kal said, rubbing his eyes.

“You are not,” Lois said, a half smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I should let you get some sleep. It’s getting late anyway.”

“I’m fine. I can stay up if you still want to talk,” Kal pressed.

“Like you said, we have a lifetime to talk.” Lois rose from the couch. She hesitantly, but tenderly, cupped his cheek in one hand. The gesture only lasted a second, but it set Kal’s heart to soaring. “Goodnight, Kal.”

“Goodnight, Lois.”

Kal watched as Lois moved off to the bedroom. His heart was aching in his chest. But this time, the ache was a good pain. Lois didn’t hate him. She’d talked to him. She’d been open to his questions and had taken an interest in him. She had apologized for their rough start to their marriage. And not once had they fought.

The change in her attitude made her even more beautiful to his eyes. He shook his head and made up the couch so that he could sleep. He crawled beneath the blankets and sighed to himself. In the span of two hours, his dark little world had suddenly been flooded with light and promise. He could scarcely wait for the morning, for then, he would have another chance to be with his wife. Already he knew that even if she never grew to love him, he had begun falling for her.

Kal awoke with a smile on his face and a cat on his back. The little creature was curled into a ball and purring even in his sleep. Kal yawned and Fasa woke at the sudden movement and sound. He stretched and left as Kal shifted on the couch. After a moment, Kal wiped the sleep from his eyes and pushed himself up off the couch. Standing, he worked a kink out of his neck from sleeping in a bad position, then moved off to the kitchenette to start the coffeemaker.

Peeking into the bedroom, he saw that Lois was still asleep, so he quietly grabbed some clothes from his closet. He dressed quickly, then made his coffee and settled down at his computer. He drank slowly as he checked up on the current news before making a move against his brothers in a game that he had going with them. It was still very early when he finished, took care of Fasa’s needs, and slipped out of his chambers.

He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. He simply let his feet take him where ever they wished. He felt like singing and dancing, his heart was so light. At least, he hoped that Lois wouldn’t change her mind when she awoke. His heart faltered for a moment as the possibility crossed his mind. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Lois couldn’t possibly take back all the things that she had said last night, could she? No, Kal was fairly certain that she wouldn’t do that. They had made so much progress last night.

He kept walking, even as he was lost in thought. When he finally broke from his inner reflection, he found himself in the rose gardens. He smiled and stopped walking. As usual, the gardens were deserted at this early hour. He sat on his usual bench and breathed in the clean scent of the flowers. For a long time, he was silent, just enjoying the early morning sunlight and the warm breeze that seemed to caress him.

“Mom,” he finally said, “I don’t know if you had anything to do with Lois’ change of heart last night. But if you did, then thank you. I really do want this to work out. I’m…I’m starting to fall for her. I know that sounds crazy. We’ve only known each other three months, and we’ve only just started to get along. But I think that I might be falling in love with her. I think you’d like her. She’s got such a fiery, independent spirit. She reminds me of you in that way. And she’s beautiful.”

Kal stood, squinting up at the sky. He knew that he should return to his rooms. He wanted to be there when Lois woke up. The whole day was his to do with as he wished. And he planned on spending every available moment with his wife. He quickly retraced his steps back inside. As he neared his chambers, he saw Ching and Jai approaching. They were talking in low tones, but their laughter was evident in the smiles that they bore. Kal waved and hurried his pace to meet them.

“Hey, bro!” Jai grinned at him.

“Good morning,” Kal greeted them both, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“You’re looking rather…happy this morning,” Ching observed, grinning from ear to ear.

Jai’s eyes widened. “Did you and Lois finally…?”

“…come to an understanding?” Kal finished for him. “We did. The fighting is behind us.”

“How did you manage that one?” Jai asked, his jaw slack in disbelief.

Kal shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. It was all Lois. She changed her mind about things. We wound up having a good, long, productive talk last night once I got back to my chambers after you and I sparred, Jai.”

“I’m happy for you,” Ching said, clasping his younger brother on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you looking so relaxed again. It’s been far too long.”

Kal nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know. It’s good to feel like my old self again.”

Jai nodded as well. “Yeah, for the last few months, you’ve been walking around looking like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had me really worried about you.”

“Thanks.” Kal chuckled a little, unable to contain his mirth now that he didn’t have to fear Lois anymore. “It felt that way.”

“We’re going into the city later with Zara. Do you want to come?” Ching asked.

Kal shook his head. “Normally I’d say yes. But I think I that I want to spend the day alone with Lois. No offense. Maybe next time though.”

“None taken,” Ching assured him. “You should enjoy some time with your wife.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jai said with a wink.

“Thanks,” Kal said. “I better get back inside. I’ll see you guys at breakfast.”

With that, Kal strode away to his chambers. Lois was just coming out of the bedroom as he closed the door softly behind him. He smiled sheepishly, as though he’d been caught doing something wrong.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Lois said. “Sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” Lois said, moving to sit on the couch.

Fasa jumped up on the couch next to Lois and lay down. He looked at her expectantly, and she scratched him behind the ears. He began to purr and closed his eyes, completely content. A minute later, Kal was at Lois’ side, handing her a steaming mug of coffee.

“So,” Lois said, nodding in the direction of the door. “Where’d you go this morning?”

Kal noted with immense relief that there was no animosity, no accusation in her voice. He breathed a mental sigh of relief. Feeling confident, he lowered himself onto the other end of the couch.

“I was up pretty early, so I took a walk. I just couldn’t really sit still. I ran into my brothers in the hall. They wanted to know if we’d like to go into the city with them today.”

“Oh? What did you say?”

Kal dropped his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I said that I wanted to spend the day with you.”

Lois nodded. “I think…I think I might like that.”

A relieved smile spread over Kal’s face and he released the breath that he hadn’t even realized that he’d been holding. “I’m glad. I’d like to take you on a little tour, if that’s okay with you?”

“Um, didn’t we already do that?” Lois arched her eyebrow at him playfully.

“Yeah, but that was the boring stuff. I’d like to show you my favorite spots.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Great,” Kal said. “Let’s go down to breakfast, then we can spend the rest of the day together, just the two of us. After my tour, we can do whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Lois agreed.

They both stood. Kal noticed as Lois moved that there was a glimmer of light at her neck. As he took a second look, he saw that she was wearing the necklace he had purchased for her. For three months, the box containing it had sat on his dresser, unmoved since he had placed it there on their wedding night. To see Lois wearing it now made his heart soar. She truly had decided to give their marriage and budding friendship a real try, hadn’t she?

They walked to the main door to the chambers. Kal opened it and held it wide for her to pass through first. She was about to step into the hallway when Kal spoke again, stopping her in her tracks.

“Lois?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks again…for giving me a second chance. You have no idea what that means to me.”

Lois shook her head. “I should be thanking you for giving me another chance. I know that I didn’t deserve one.”

“Of course you did,” Kal countered.

He gave her an encouraging smile. He had the fleeting thought that in the last twelve or so hours, he’d done more smiling than he had in the slightly more than three months since he’d learned that he was betrothed to a complete stranger.

“Come on,” he said gently, nodding towards the hallway. “Let’s get some food.”

That morning’s breakfast was shared just between the royal family. The Elders had the day off, as it was the weekend. Kal found that his unburdened heart had led to a loosening of his tongue. For once, his comments were not few and far between. He joked with his brothers as easily as he had before his marriage.

Jor-El noticed the change in his son. For the last three months, the young prince had been sullen and withdrawn. He had rarely smiled and his laughter had become scarce. But now, it was as if some miracle had restored his son to him. The Supreme Lord said very little, but was content to sit back and watch. A small, satisfied smile crossed his lips as he did so. Nothing escaped his watch. He saw the way that Kal prepared Lois’ cup of coffee. He heard the way that he spoke to her. He watched his son’s subtle body language. All of Kal’s tension had melted away and been replaced with his former, easy confidence. All of his pessimism had fled, allowing his sunny, optimistic nature to shine through once more.

Kal knew that his father was silently appraising the situation. He caught Jor-El’s eye once during the meal. He subtly nodded his affirmation that, yes, things were beginning to get better. Jor-El shot his son a wide smile that Lois missed, as she had turned to speak with Zara.

When the meal was over, Kal took Lois back through the palace. He took her straight to the gardens. He began his tour with the gently sloping hill ringed by trees. Together, they crested the small rise in the ground. At the top, Kal took a deep breath, and turned his face to the sky. He closed his eyes against the bright, hot sun, then turned again to Lois.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“This spot,” Kal clarified. He gestured widely.

Lois looked around and shrugged. “It’s nice, I suppose. There’s not much here though.”

“Ah, but you haven’t seen it at night,” Kal said, grinning. “It’s my favorite spot to come look at the stars.”

“Do you do that often?”

Kal nodded. “I do. Or at least, I try to. I’ve always been fascinated by the night sky. Haven’t you?”

Lois nodded. “In a way, yes. When I was a kid, I used to look out of my bedroom windows at night. I’d see the stars and wonder about what was out there, in space. I’d wonder if there was some other little girl looking out of her window, wondering the same thing. And I’d wish that I could go out among the stars, exploring. I yearned for the freedom that would bring. Silly, huh?”

“No,” Kal said, shaking his head. “It’s understandable. I think we all yearn to escape our lives once in a while.” He fell silent for a moment, then spoke again. “I’d like to bring you back here tonight. There’s going to be a meteor shower, and the weather is supposed to be perfect for viewing it.”

“I’d like that,” Lois said, giving him a shy smile.

They began to walk again. Kal took Lois to the rose gardens. She hadn’t yet ventured to them during the daylight hours. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked upon the vast, orderly rows of rosebushes. She drifted away from Kal, moving from bush to bush, looking at the flowers and stopping to inhale their unique scents.

“This place…it’s beautiful,” she said at last.

She delicately fingered the petals of a tangerine colored rose. Kal approached her to stand at her side.

“My mother planned this section of the gardens,” he said softly. “It was her favorite place. And it’s become one of mine too. It’s peaceful here. I find that it’s a good place to think. I sort of feel like my mom is still close to me when I’m here.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Lois asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you brought me here. But it seems like a pretty personal place.”

The prince shrugged. “I just thought that you might like it here. And, well, I figured that if it is a good place for me to unwind and relax, it might be the same for you as well.”

“Thank you, for sharing this place with me,” Lois said, giving him a sincere smile.

“I’m glad that you like it.”

“I really do,” she assured him. “So…do you have favorites here?” she asked, gesturing to the vast array of blossoms.

“Those pink ones there, and these orange ones here. They were Mom’s favorites,” Kal said, pointing to the flowers in question. “I guess that’s why I like them so much.”

“I like them too,” Lois admitted. “Your mom had good taste.”

Kal chuckled. “That she did. You know, I think she would have really liked you.”

Lois blushed deeply. “Really?”

“Absolutely. She would have loved the same things about you that I told you that I like about you. Your spirit. Your mind. Your unwillingness to just go along to get along.”

“I wish I could have known her,” Lois said in a quiet voice.

“Me too.”

For the rest of that day, Kal took Lois around, showing her his favorite places. He took her to the palace library and showed her the little nook by the western windows where he enjoyed reading sometimes. After grabbing a few slices of bread from the kitchen , he took her to the pond that was well stocked with brightly colored fish. Lois delighted in crumbling the bread and tossing it to the fish, their shiny, almost metallic looking scales flashing in the sunlight.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted, as she crumbled her first piece of bread.

“Really?” Kal couldn’t hide the shock in his voice.

Lois nodded. “Proper young ladies don’t stoop to feeding fish. At least, that’s what my dad always said. He was always so afraid that I would grow up to disappoint my lord husband by seeming…uncivilized.”

“That’s really sad,” Kal commented, his voice a soft murmur.

“I always resented that, even as a very young child,” Lois sighed. She took another slice of bread from Kal’s hand and threw little pieces to the fish. “I always felt so…restricted. So…suffocated.”

“Well,” Kal said, “if it makes you feel any better, you’ll never have deal with that again. Whatever you want to do, you can. And whatever you don’t want to do, I’ll never force you to do.”

“Thank you,” Lois said, giving him a brilliant smile.

“You know,” Kal said, thinking aloud, “I think I have something that you might really like.”

“What’s that?”

“Something your father would never have approved of in a million years,” Kal answered with a sly smile. “Come on.”

He took her to the stables and introduced her to the men who worked there, and showed her the horses that the building housed. The stable keepers were all very polite and Kal spoke with them with gentle familiarity, as he did with all the palace staff.

“So, what do you think?” he asked Lois.

“Well, you’re right. Dad never would have approved of my visiting a stable.”

“That’s not all,” Kal said. “I want you to choose one of the horses here and it will be yours.”

“I…what?” Her jaw dropped open.

Kal grinned. “The last eight horses in here don’t belong to anyone specifically. Choose any one of them and that one will be yours.”

“Why?”

“You can’t very well accompany me out when I go riding without a horse of your own,” Kal grinned. “Well…I guess you could if we shared a saddle. But I think you might have more fun with a horse of your own.”

Lois laughed. “My father would be having a fit right about now, if only he knew.”

Kal chuckled. “I know.” A mischievous smile crossed his lips.

“So…which is yours?”

Kal walked to the midnight black stallion that stood in his stall not thirty feet away. “This is Chief. He’s been mine for the last ten years, ever since he was born. His father was Metro, my first horse.”

“He’s beautiful,” Lois said sincerely, admiring the horse.

Lois took her time looking over the other horses in the stable. She reached out and petted the heads that eagerly poked out from behind the doors to investigate her. Kal handed her a couple of carrots, and she broke them and fed them to each of the beasts. But she kept gravitating to a roan stallion, Kent. Kal smiled when it appeared that Lois had made her choice.

“Kent’s a good choice,” he commented. “He’s got a very even personality. And he’s one fast horse. He’s about the only one here that can keep up with my Chief.”

“He sounds perfect,” Lois said, stroking the horse’s nose.

“He’s all yours. My gift to you.”

The smile that she gave him was blindingly beautiful, and Kal found himself falling deeper and deeper under Lois’ spell.

“Can we take them out now?”

“Absolutely. Do you know how to ride?”

Lois shook her head. “No.”

“Oh. Right.” Kal’s cheeks colored. “Proper young ladies don’t ride horses.” His voice was rich with sarcasm.

Lois laughed. “That’s about the size of it.” She looked a little embarrassed.

“We’ll start small,” Kal said, giving her a smile in return.

For the next hour, Kal showed Lois how to get the saddle and bridle on her new horse, how to mount, and how to use the reins to control the animal. He noted, with immense satisfaction, but no huge surprise, that she was an extremely fast learner. He felt confident that the next time they took out the horses, she would probably be able to keep pace with him and Chief without much of a struggle. And how he looked forward to that!

After the lesson, they continued their tour. Each time they left one of Kal’s favorite places, he asked Lois if she wanted to do something else. He didn’t want to make the day all about him. Each time, she refused. She admitted to enjoying the personal look into Kal’s world, a look she seemed to crave, now that she had come to trust him. And Kal couldn’t deny that he enjoyed showing her such personal glimpses into who he was. He wanted her to know all there was to know about him. He needed her to see every nuance of his heart. And as he unfolded his world before her, he was rewarded with glimpses into Lois’ heart and mind.

By the end of the day, Kal was certain of one fact. It made his knees weak, his head spin, and his heart pound. He’d never experienced such feelings in all of his life. He’d never thought that he ever would. But it was true. Impossible, perhaps. But true.

He was in love with his wife.

Late that night, Kal led Lois back to the gently sloping hill. He was carrying a large blanket in one arm and a small basket in his other hand. Lois matched him, stride for stride. She wondered at Kal as she threw furtive glances over to him. The weak moonlight was just enough to highlight his strong features. No weariness showed on his face, though she thought that surely he must be getting tired. He’d been up and about longer than she had been. And while she had taken a quick power nap after dinner in preparation for the long night ahead, she knew that Kal had not. He’d headed to Ching’s rooms for a while to watch a game on the video screens. But Kal still looked as eager and alert as ever. She smiled in the dark.

They quickly reached the small hill. Kal set the basket down and unfolded the blanket. He smoothed down a couple of wrinkles and gestured for Lois to sit. As she sank down onto the faded blue blanket, Kal did the same. Lois sighed in contentment and looked towards the heavens. Above, the sky was a vast, deep black portal amid the surrounding trees. Stars glittered, innumerable, and with lights that rivaled the gem clasped at her neck.

“I…don’t see anything,” she said after a while, disappointment evident in her voice. She looked over at Kal and scrunched her brow. “Why aren’t you looking?”

Kal chuckled. “It won’t start for a little while.”

“Oh.”

“I thought that maybe we could make a toast though,” the prince said.

He reached into the basket and pulled out a slender bottle of deep red wine. It was one of the most vintage bottles that he could get. In fact, it was of the same rare bouquet as the wine that his father had served him on the night when Kal had found out that he was to be wed. The prince had begged a bottle from his father after the game had ended and he’d left Ching and Zara’s rooms. Jor-El had only smiled and happily had one of the bottles retrieved from the wine cellar. They had talked as they waited for the wine to arrive, and Jor-El had expressed how relieved he was that Kal and Lois were finally starting to get along. Now, Kal easily uncorked the bottle, even in the dim lighting, and poured two glasses of the strong, heady liquid. He handed one to Lois.

“What should we toast?” she asked.

“How about…new beginnings?” the prince answered with a grin. In the next moment, he’d turned serious. He stared intently into her eyes. “Lois, the fact that we’ve been able to overcome our rough start to this marriage means the world to me. The moment I first saw you, when you walked down that aisle towards me, I thought you were the most beautiful woman on all of Krypton. And I knew, in that same instant, that I wanted us to get along. I knew that I would do whatever I could to make you happy. Thank you, for giving me that chance.”

He raised his glass and clinked it against Lois’. They both took a sip of the rich wine.

“Kal…I…” Lois’ voice faltered and broke as she groped for words. “Today has been one of the happiest days of my life,” she confessed after a moment. “Today, for the first time, I felt like I was worth something. Like I was someone special. Like I was something more than a tradable commodity. I know that my parents love me, but it was hard growing up in a household where my parents seemed more concerned with keeping score in their fighting than with what their daughters were up to. And, from a young age, I was more of Luci’s mother than her sister. But you…you’ve treated me like a true person, for who I actually am. You’ve…encouraged me…to be who I really am, not who society says I should be. You’ve opened up my whole life for me, in a way that I’d given up hope could ever happen. Thank you for that. And for giving me another chance to make things right between us.”

“Today was only the beginning,” Kal promised her, his voice a solemn vow. “I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how special you are. I…” His voice trailed off.

“What is it, Kal?”

“Nothing.” He was grateful for the darkness that hid his blush.

“Please?”

“It’s just that…I don’t want to scare you, Lois,” he relented after a moment.

“Scare me?” she repeated. “I’ve been blindly thrown into a marriage. I’ve had to leave behind everything and everyone that I knew. And I’ve survived that. I don’t think anything could possibly scare me now.”

Kal took a deep breath and slowly released it in an effort to calm his nerves.

“Today was one of the best days of my life too,” he admitted. “Lois, I think…I know…I’ve spent the day falling in love with you.”

His words were quietly spoken, but they might as well have been a bombshell. Lois had to struggle not gape to in surprise. She blinked rapidly, trying to process what her husband had just said. But there it was, a naked, heartfelt confession that she could not - did not - want to ignore. She smiled gently at him and reached for his hand. They both felt a sudden jolt of warmth and electricity at the contact.

“I think that I spent the day doing the same thing,” she finally said.

Kal’s face exploded into a smile. Lois had the fleeting thought that his smile brought about the noonday sun to the night. She smiled shyly at him in return.

“Lois, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Oh, I think that I have an idea. Knowing how you feel…I’m just as happy to have heard that from your lips.”

“Speaking of lips…would it be all right if…I kissed you?” Kal’s voice was soft and uncertain. Was he pushing things too fast?

“I’d like that,” Lois nodded.

Slowly, Kal set aside his wine and moved towards Lois. He desperately wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips on his own, now that he had surrendered his heart to her. But he was afraid. He’d never found a girl worth kissing before. What if he messed it up? What if he kissed too softly, or too roughly? What if there were no sparks to speak of between them when their lips finally met? What if Lois thought that he was a horrible kisser? Would she change her mind about him? Would he revolt her?

Stubbornly, he tried to push aside his doubts. He slid closer to his bride, and gently cupped her cheek with his hand. In an instant, her hand flew up to cover his own. Kal’s heart stopped beating for second, until he realized that she wasn’t going to pull away. Her touch was gentle and accepting, a simple gesture of encouragement. Feeling bolder, Kal leaned in, his lips seeking those of his wife. His eyes slid shut as the distance between them steadily closed, then vanished altogether.

Their lips touched, and all thought left the prince. He was aware only of the sensations that coursed through his veins. He’d worried about sparks. It was as if every firework on Krypton had suddenly been set afire and exploded in the night sky. His lips caressed Lois’, and to his surprise, he felt her responding. What had begun as a shy meeting of flesh soon turned hungry and passionate. It was only when they were both in dire need of air that they reluctantly parted.

They were both flushed and breathing heavily. Kal felt as though his flesh, bones, and blood alike had been kindled with some wildfire. His heart was pounding so heavily that he felt like it might burst from his chest at any moment, and go flopping into the springy grass beyond the edges of the blanket. He felt lightheaded and giddy, as if he were drunk. The sensation staggered him. He’d never known before that a single kiss could be so powerful, so sensual, so soul-shatteringly beautiful, so utterly life-changing.

“Wow,” Lois breathed when they parted.

“Wow,” Kal echoed.

“That was…”

“I know.”

“I never knew…”

“Me neither.”

They both laughed a little, a light but slightly embarrassed and uncertain sound. They both knew that some invisible threshold had just been crossed. Neither one was quite sure where things would go from this moment. Each secretly hoped that things would only somehow get even better from there on out.

To give themselves something to do to avoid talking, they both reclaimed their glasses of wine and sipped slowly. Kal drained his glass, then set it aside. He lay back on the blanket, folding his hands beneath his head and looking up into the sky. Above, the twin moons were beginning their descent in the west and the stars lay scattered about like so many unreachable diamonds. Kal felt a deep contentment overtake his body. Ever since his childhood, the stars had offered him a sense of comfort and peace. Over the years and as he had grown, the constellations had become his friends. He enjoyed watching as each new season bid farewell to some of them and welcomed in others.

Beside him, Lois set down her empty glass. She, too, lowered herself to lay upon the blanket. She gazed up at the stars, only inches from Kal’s body. She was content to lay there in silence, listening to the songs of the night frogs and crickets. She felt at peace, though Kal’s kiss still had her blood on fire and her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

“Do you know the different stars?” Kal asked after a while.

Lois shook her head. “Some, but not many. My father wasn’t interested in teaching me much about the stars. But I can tell you almost everything that he knows about Earth.” There was a world of derision in her voice.

“You and your father…don’t get along, do you?”

“It’s not really that,” Lois sighed. “It’s just…I never really got to know him well enough to decide whether or not we got along. He was always so busy with his work. Luci and I never really got to see him all that much. And when we did see him, he usually wound up fighting with Mom or trying to enforce rules so that Luci and I grew up the way that he wanted us to. The few times that none of those things happened, all he could really talk about was his work and his fascination with Earth. I used to wish that I could find a ship that would send me to that planet just to get away from life here on Krypton.”

“I’m glad that you didn’t,” Kal said. “Otherwise, I would have been robbed of the opportunity to get to know you.”

Lois blushed. “Now that I know you, I’m very glad that I couldn’t run away to Earth. Can you tell me about the stars?” she asked hopefully.

Kal nodded. “Of course.”

For the next hour, Kal pointed out the various stars and constellations to Lois. He added in the old myths, the stories that he had memorized as a young child. Zarthax, the giant, after whom Jai had named his cat. Thalia, the warrior woman of legend, who Zara had named the kitten that Ching had rescued for. Harond, the blacksmith, who myth said made armor that could withstand any beating without taking dent or scratch. Ragnok, the stalking lion. Othon, the winged horse of Thalia. And of course, Fasa, the hunter-turned-hero, who was Kal’s favorite since childhood. He pointed all of these constellations out, as well as some of the lesser stars that ruled the night sky.

With his free hand, he reached out to Lois. Fingertips met and heat was kindled. Lois’ smaller, slender hand slipped into Kal’s large one, and their fingers entangled of their own accord. Both smiled at the effortless contact and at how right it felt.

The first streak of light flashed across the sky. Lois squealed in delight, pointing excitedly. Kal laughed at Lois’ childlike reaction, though inwardly, he felt the same excitement. More shooting stars followed the first. Soon the sky above was scarred with one white hot flash after another, each light flaring into life and dying into darkness again in less than a second.

“It’s so beautiful,” Lois commented after a time.

“I know,” Kal agreed.

“Is it always like this? My father never allowed Luci or I out of doors after dark, except for rare, special occasions.”

“No,” Kal answered. “Showers like this happen only once a year. Why didn’t your father allow you outdoors at night?”

Lois sighed. “He said it was for our protection. I think he wanted to ensure that we couldn’t take advantage of the dark to run away from home.”

“Would you have?”

“Part of me would love to say that I would have. But probably not. I wouldn’t have known where to go or what to do. But my father only saw a willful, wild child who did whatever she wanted. So he tried to control whatever he could.”

“Wild child?” Kal tore his gaze from the sky and looked at Lois. One eyebrow was arched in skepticism.

Lois nodded and smiled mischievously. “Mmm- hmm.”

“Tell me?”

“I don’t think you really want to know. The stories aren’t that interesting.”

“I really do. Come on. Please?”

Lois hesitated. “Okay. When I was five, my cousin got married. Ten minutes before we were supposed to leave for the ceremony, I found a patch of mud and destroyed my dress. When I was twelve, my dad invited your father to our house to share some research data. He called me in to say hello, figuring that your dad would be interested to see how his future daughter-in-law was doing. I’d decided that it was a fine day for climbing trees. I’d gotten a little stuck on the way down and tore my clothes. I think I even had twigs and leaves sticking out of my hair. I must have horrified your father. I know that my father was absolutely appalled.”

Kal snorted a laugh. “It’s pretty hard to shock my father. He’s got three sons who’d sooner spend the day at a soup kitchen than attend a feast filled with decadent foods and wines.”

Lois giggled a bit. She had no doubts that Kal spoke the truth. Another companionable silence fell between them. Their hands remained clasped, their fingers intertwined. Kal’s thumb stroked the side of Lois’ hand, as though it had a mind of its own. Above, the meteor shower continued, becoming even heavier before it began to taper off once more. After a while, only the barest hints of shooting stars still raced across the sky. Kal yawned and looked towards Lois.

“Kal,” she said, her eyes leaving the sky and peering at his face. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Thanks for coming with me. It means the world to me that I can share this kind of stuff with you.”

“Is that the end of it?” she asked, flicking her eyes back to the sky for the briefest of seconds.

“Yeah,” Kal said. “Oh, there might still be a few that will continue until dawn, but the main attraction is over, so to speak. Are you ready to head back inside?”

“I think so.”

They disentangled their hands from one another, both silently mourning the loss of the contact. They stood, and Kal quickly gathered up the wine and glasses. With nimble fingers and deft hands, he folded the blanket and tucked it under his arm. He grabbed the basket with the wine in the same hand. His free hand sought out Lois’ as they headed back into the palace. Now that he’d made contact with her - had touched her, had kissed her - he craved as much of it as possible. Being apart from her, even by a scant few inches, set an aching, longing feeling in his heart.

The feeling surprised him, as did the fact that it had all happened so quickly. Not two days ago, he’d felt like his marriage had ended his life, destroyed his happiness, with no chance of ever reclaiming the person that he was. But now, he could not imagine his life without the woman at his side. He hoped with all of his being that she felt the same way about him.

When they reached their chambers, they reluctantly released one another’s hands. Kal quickly put away the items that he carried, while Lois prepared herself for bed. She rejoined him in the living room, where he was tapping away at his computer. Fasa watched from a nearby chair, his yellow-orange eyes half closed. Kal looked up and shut the lid as Lois approached.

“What were you writing?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Just…some personal stuff.”

“Like a diary?”

Kal chuckled. “No.”

A mischievous grin overtook Lois’ mouth and eyes. “I’ll bet it is! ‘Dear Diary, today I kissed my wife.’”

“Watch it. Or I might have to do it again,” Kal mock threatened.

“I might have to let you,” Lois replied, her brown eyes twinkling.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” she almost purred. She let the words sink into Kal’s mind. After a moment she spoke again. “So…what were you really doing?” she asked, deftly changing the subject back.

“Just writing.”

Lois raised one eyebrow questioningly. Kal felt all of his defenses melt away.

“I like to write,” he said, by way of explanation. “Sometimes messages to friends, sometimes proposals that Ching and I want to present to the Elders. But mostly, I just like to come up with little stories. They aren’t anything great, but I enjoy it.”

“Can I read them?”

Kal ‘s face flushed in embarrassment. “They really aren’t that good.”

“I don’t mind.”

Reluctantly, Kal nodded. “Okay. Anytime you want, you can just access Kal Docs 2 on the computer. My password is Fasalot.”

“Fasa…lot?”

Kal blushed a little again, his face going crimson. “One of my little nicknames for the cat.” He paused and yawned widely.

“We should get some sleep,” Lois said, letting him off the hook for the time being.

Kal yawned again, then blinked rapidly. “I guess you’re right.”

He stood and grabbed the blankets that he used for his makeshift bed on the couch. Lois came to his side and placed one warm hand on the bare flesh of his arm. Kal stopped dead in his tracks. He looked questioningly at his wife.

“What are you doing?”

“Making up my bed,” he answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, though confusion clung to the edges of his words as well.

“Would you…like to…sleep in your own bed?”

“What about you?”

Lois smiled shyly. “I meant, would you come share the bed with me…like a normal husband and wife.”

Kal’s mouth opened and worked for a moment, but no words issued forth. After a minute, he tried again.

“I don’t want to pressure you, Lois. I don’t want you to feel like we’ve had one perfect day together, and that now I expect…certain privileges. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It won’t. Trust me, if I didn’t want you to share the bed with me, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Kal had to admit that there was a certain logic to that. “Okay,” he said after a moment. If anything, he looked forward to a whole night of having Lois less than an arm’s length away. He’d been silently dreading spending the night in a whole different room from her.

It did not take him long to prepare for bed. His energy was fading fast, and he looked forward to climbing into the familiar comfort of his own bed. His couch was comfortable enough, but so far, in the three months that he’d been sleeping on it, he’d rolled right off it a good five or six times as he’d dreamed, one time smacking his arm on the coffee table so hard that he’d borne a large bruise on it for a week.

When he entered the bedroom, Lois was already tucked beneath the sheets. She smiled somewhat nervously as he approached, pulled back the blankets, and slipped beneath them. He smiled back, a self-conscious curving of his lips. He leaned over and kissed Lois again, and the sparks that flew were more impressive then the thousands of shooting stars that they had seen that night.

“Thank you for the perfect day, and the prefect night,” Lois whispered to him as he shut off the bedside lamp.

“I love you, Lois.”

“I love you too, Kal.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Lois snuggled against Kal as she settled into her pillows. She sighed contentedly and sleep took her. Kal lay awake for a time, marveling at the feel of his wife’s body pressed against him. His mind traveled back over the events of the day. With a tentative, trembling hand, he lay on his side and wrapped his arm around Lois. She murmured in her sleep, but they seemed to be happy sounds, and Kal took them as encouragement. He wished he could stay awake all night, basking in the warm, happy feelings that had replaced all of his prior sadness and despair, and which had suffused his body with a joy that he’d never known was possible. When sleep did finally take him, he had a smile on his lips, and in his dreams, he and Lois still lay beneath the starry sky in the gardens.

***

The remainder of the summer passed by too quickly for Kal’s liking. He’d always loved the summer, for he enjoyed being outdoors as much as possible, as well as the long hours of sunlight that went along with the warm weather. Fall came on swiftly, crisp and cool most days. Kal and Lois took advantage of the fair weather as often as they could. Some days, they strolled in the gardens, hand in hand. Other days, they mounted their horses and took off beyond the walls of the palace, tearing across the countryside, racing each other across vast, grassy fields. And still other days, they wandered the streets of the city with Zara, Ching, and Jai.

The five had become a tightly knit group. Lois even found herself overlooking the fact that Jai took full use of the palace concubines. She found his wit and sense of humor to be a breath of fresh air. She decided that she would have loved to have had a younger brother like him. With Zara, a true sisterhood had been forged. Where once Lois would have spent her free time away from Kal alone in their chambers, she found herself now rarely ever choosing to be on her own. Days when the men were busy with their royal duties were days that Lois and Zara spent together. And as for Ching, he was often the most stoic of the group. But Lois often got to see the wealth and depths of his mirth come bubbling to the surface. Lois found herself loving Kal’s family, and wishing that her own had been like his.

Kal found himself increasingly entranced by his wife. Her beauty smote his heart. And her mind intrigued him. Once she let go of her anger, he found that she was often quick to laugh, swift to make a joke, and always ready to smile. He was, quite simply, at his happiest when he was with her. And during the times when they were apart, he found his thoughts straying back to her constantly. He still fulfilled all of his duties as prince, but he no longer took any real joy in them, not to the same degree that he once did. What he wouldn’t have given to have Lois by his side as he did so!

Where he’d once enjoyed, and even looked forward to, the days when the petitioners came to court, he now nearly dreaded them. They had once been a safe haven for him, a legitimate excuse to avoid Lois and her wrath. Back then, the days at court had seemed too few and far between, and had seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. Now that Lois and Kal had come to love one another, however, it felt like those days came far too often and dragged on for several lifetimes. He missed Lois during those hours, and would have done anything to have her at his side as he listened to the pleas set before him. He still gave his full attention to the people that had traveled to state their case before the Supreme Lord and his sons, but he could not help the moments when his mind did actually stray for a moment.

And as the months passed and the seasons turned, Kal and Lois fell deeper in love.

In one thing only did they hesitate. They had not yet consummated their marriage. Though they both wanted to, they each also felt that they were still learning about the other. They were both still learning what this new love meant. And so, they had not yet dared to cross that line. It left them both sometimes very frustrated. Kal had spent many a night awake in their bed, yearning to be one with his wife. But still, they were mostly content to explore their relationship at a pace that made them both feel comfortable. Neither one wanted to risk the progress that they had made by rushing into things.

The leaves on the trees had fully turned to vibrant shades of reds, blazing orange, shocks of yellow, and deep, bruised purples by the early autumn. It was then that Krypton held its annual dueling tournaments, in homage to the sun-god, Rao. The tournament was to be held beyond the palace walls, in a large field where there would be room enough for all the spectators to gather.

For weeks, the field was prepared. The ground was inspected to ensure that it was level, so that no one combatant was at an advantage or disadvantage against another. Stadium seating was installed to meet the demands of the hundreds of thousands that would flock to the event. Fencing was put into place to protect the fighters and the spectators alike. Video screens were attached to high poles, so that those sitting back too far back from the field might be able to see better. At the north end of the field, a raised viewing box appeared, so that the royal family might enjoy the event in every comfort. Around the field, in strategic locations, others took place for the highest of the noble families on the planet.

Anticipation grew heavier with each passing day. The common folk looked forward to the week-long holiday. The nobles grew restless as they practiced their moves at their own estates. Not even Ching and Jai were spared from the sense of expectancy that settled over the planet. Lois and Kal rarely saw the two men, starting a couple of weeks before the event was to begin. They were almost constantly sparring with one another down in the gym or in the clean, cold, outdoor air. Kal sometimes joined his brothers, for it was expected that all three of the princes would participate in the event. But for the most part, he neglected his practice, and instead spent his days with Lois.

“Don’t you want to get in any practice?” Lois asked him as they strolled through the rose gardens, late one afternoon. Her arm was linked intimately with his. “The tournament starts tomorrow.”

“Not really,” Kal said, shaking his head.

“That confident, are you?” Lois teased him.

Kal grinned. “Nope. But I know what I am capable of. Wearing myself out today won’t make a difference.” There was a note of disinterest in his voice.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you enjoy dueling?”

“It’s not my favorite thing,” Kal admitted with a shrug. “I don’t mind it, per se. But I’ve seen too many people get hurt over the years at these things. My father, however, loves the tournament. In his youth, he was all but undefeated. I think your father beat him on a couple of occasions.”

“But it’s not for you.”

“Exactly. I like sparring with my brothers in hand to hand combat sometimes. It’s a great way to keep fit and to blow off a little steam now and again. But the duel…” He shrugged again and let his voice taper off.

“You do it for your father, don’t you?”

“Exactly.”

“I guess…we’ve both done things in our lives for our fathers,” Lois said. “Even though they haven’t been what we would have chosen for ourselves.”

Kal smiled gently at her. “Hey now, I told you. You never have to do anything for your father again. Not if you don’t want to.”

“I know. So, this duel…”

Kal shook his head. “My father has always wanted to see one of his sons win,” he said with a sigh. “But none of us ever has. He’s not ashamed of it. But I think, deep down, it is still a little disappointing. It’s like he wants to relive the glory of it through us.”

Lois let the subject drop. She could see that Kal was less than thrilled at the prospect of what the next day would bring. To distract him, she pulled him into a fierce kiss. He eagerly returned her show of affection. Time stood still and all thought ceased to exist. There was only them. Sky and ground, sun and wind - everything vanished. There was no reality but their kiss. Nothing else held any meaning. When they eventually parted, they both felt as though a roaring wildfire was surging through their bodies.

That very night, they finally united fully as husband and wife.

They took it slowly at first, getting to know one another’s bodies fully at a leisurely pace. And though Kal had gotten a fleeting glimpse of his wife’s body on their wedding night, when he’d entered the bedroom to find her slipping out of her robes, nothing had prepared him for the feelings that flooded his veins now. On their wedding night, she had been ready to submit herself to him, as unwilling and frightened as she was. But now she trusted him, loved him, and he in turn loved her, with every fiber of his being. It made all the difference in the world to him.

But the longer they spent getting to know each other’s nakedness, the greater the fires roared within them. They abandoned their slow worship of one another and joined together hastily. Both were somewhat embarrassed by the quickness of their union, and so, twice more that night, they made love again. Both times, they deliberately kept their pace slow, drawing out the sensations, enjoying every single moment together. Each time, they unwillingly parted in order to recharge themselves, wrapped in each other’s comforting embrace. It was late indeed when they finally both fell asleep.

The next day dawned bright and fair. There was a crispness to the air that was diluted by the warm shafts of sunlight that poured down from above. Neither Kal nor Lois wanted to move from their comfortable positions in the bed. Lois was snuggled against Kal’s side, resting in the crook of his arm with her head on his chest. Kal cradled her against his bare flesh with one arm. The other was tucked behind his head, trapped between his ebony locks and soft pillow. His cheek rested against the top of Lois’ head. He placed a tender kiss in among her own dark tresses.

“Do we really have to go?” Lois asked, her voice more a sigh than anything.

“I’m afraid so,” Kal said, just as softly, with more than a hint of regret. “Believe me, I’d much rather spend the rest of the day just like this.”

“All right,” Lois grumbled as she pushed the blankets aside.

Kal chuckled and slid out of the bed on the opposite side from Lois. They both dressed quickly. Kal dressed in his dueling clothes - a pair of fine black pants and a matching short sleeved shirt. Upon the breast of the shirt was the El family crest, wrought in silver thread, large and imposing across the muscled hardness of his chest. Both garments had built-in padding to protect his body - a light, thin, flexible layer of effective armor that Lois’ own father had developed some thirty years prior. A specialized pair of low-cut boots went with the ensemble, the soles specially designed to have the maximum grip on the grass and dirt of the dueling field. The outfit fit rather tightly, minimizing the wind resistance and giving the combatant the freedom to move as swiftly as possible. There was no slack for the drei to get caught on, no extra material for a competitor to grab as they fought. The entire effect was sleek, purposeful. All of the fighters would be wearing the same regulation uniforms, each with the sigil of their own house, noble and common alike.

Lois eyed his outfit appreciatively, causing Kal to chuckle again.

Kal, for his part, could not stop staring at his wife. She was wearing a simple, but elegant dress of palest yellow. It contrasted nicely against the spill of her long dark hair, but complimented her creamy skin perfectly. The neckline of the garment plunged just enough to be sexy, but without baring too much. As she had every day since they had put an end to their bickering and begun their romance, she wore the multi-rayed star necklace about her neck. Kal had since commissioned a matching set of earrings, which now almost always adorned his wife’s ears. Her rings matched the color of her dress.

An involuntary groan escaped Kal as he gazed upon the woman that he loved.

“What?” she asked, knowing full well what thoughts were occupying his mind. Similar thoughts were coursing through her own mind.

“I think we’d better take my own, separate vehicle,” he said. “I want to be able to make a quick escape as soon as it’s socially acceptable.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Lois laughed and shook her head. “You are incorrigible.”

“You have no idea.”

“Imagine the scandal if people realize!” Lois teased him in mock horror.

Kal grinned wolfishly. “Let them talk,” he said, his voice a low, husky growl.

Three hours later, they had eaten their breakfast and Jak had driven them out to the field of battle. The rest of the family was already there when Lois and Kal arrived. They arrived to find that most of the seats on the erected benches had already been taken. And already, some verbal brawls had broken out as people squabbled over who was sitting where, who could not save seating for missing relatives, and who had gotten up and therefore forfeited their place. Most did not take note as the royal family filed into their viewing box and took their seats.

“So, who do you think will win today?” Ching asked as he settled into the chair on Kal’s left.

Kal shook his head. “I don’t know. But Lord Nor is always a good bet.”

“Nor?” Lois asked, from her place at Kal’s right side.

Kal nodded. “Nor Uthor, son of Lux Uthor. He’s one of the best duelers on the planet.”

“He’s ruthless and cold-hearted,” Zara put in. “I don’t think he’s ever faced an opponent yet that he hasn’t hurt in some way.”

“And he’s allowed to continue fighting?” Lois asked, truly horrified.

Kal nodded. “It’s all part of the risk taken when you step out onto the field.”

“Are you defending him?” Lois asked, incredulous.

“No,” Kal said, shaking his head. “If anything, I despise Nor. Zara wasn’t kidding when she said that he’s ruthless.”

“What do you mean?” Lois asked, her brow scrunched in confusion.

Ching cleared his throat. “We can’t prove anything,” he reminded his brother.

“That doesn’t mean that he’s innocent.”

“Prove what?” Lois asked.

Kal sighed. “In the past ten years or so, two of the Uthor household servants and six concubines have gone missing. Nor has a terrible temper and a short fuse. We think that he may have…”

“…killed them?” Lois finished for him.

Zara and Jai nodded.

“The Uthor family says that the girls - it’s always the women - ran away from their estate,” Jai said, his voice dripping with disgust. “All we know is that they never turned up again.”

“Can’t you do something?” Lois asked, aghast.

Ching shook his head. “How? We have no evidence to prove any wrong-doing.”

“If we had anything to go on,” Jai assured her, “we would.”

“In a heartbeat,” Kal added grimly.

Beyond the walls of their viewing box, a hush settled over the crowd. Trumpets blared in the late morning air. The princes grew silent and attentive as the Master of the Tournament took the field. He raised his hands for complete silence. The spectators happily gave the man what he sought. He began to speak, his voice echoing over the field via the speaker system that had been put into place that morning.

“My lords and ladies, may I direct your attention to the Supreme Lord, our most beloved Jor-El?”

Jor-El stood as a cacophony of cheers broke out over the assembled spectators. A smile crossed his lips and he endured the applause for a moment before he raised his own hands for silence. It took a full minute for complete silence to fall. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“My lords and ladies, nobles and commoners alike, I bid you welcome to this tournament. Each year, around this time, we celebrate the most ancient of our traditions. We duel in the spirit of friendly competition. We celebrate the last of the mild weather before the cold of winter sets in. And we honor our heritage. So it is with deep pleasure that I declare this year’s tournament officially underway.”

Another roar of thunderous applause and cheering broke out. The Master of the Tournament patiently waited until most of the noise had died down. Then he spoke again, announcing the first of the match-ups. He held a small square device in his hands, and it randomly generated the pairings for the matches. The first set of competitors took to the field to the delight of all. The tournament had truly begun.

For the rest of the afternoon, pairing after pairing took their turns battling it out. There was no break. Kal and the rest of his family ate their lunch in their viewing box. Lois noted that Jor-El and Ching watched the fights with great interest. Zara, too, looked as though she was somewhat enjoying the event. Jai was grinning from ear to ear as he and Kal commented to one another on the various techniques that the fighters were employing. But for the most part, Kal eyed the event with polite disinterest. Oh, he applauded the victor of each round. But he looked, for the most part, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Lois found herself feeling much the same as her husband. The duels were interesting in their own way. And a few times, she found herself holding her breath as the fighting got close. But she would have preferred to be doing just about anything else. The only saving grace was that Kal was with her, his hand often in hers. He frequently bent his head to hers and whispered in her ear. Each time, a little thrill shot through her body. She found herself wishing for the day to end so that she could return to the palace to be alone with her husband.

She got her wish when the last pairing of the day was announced. Since none of the El family had been called to fight, Kal and Lois were able to slip away. None of the spectators would notice. Everyone’s eyes were riveted on the field. Kal had Jak take them back to the palace with all speed. As the vehicle ghosted over the land, Kal seemed to relax.

“So, what did you think?” he asked his wife.

Lois shrugged. “There were some moments of excitement,” she admitted. “But I can see why you aren’t really a fan. I do hope that young commoner is okay though.”

Kal nodded. Lord Nor had been set against one of the common people. Though the man had fought valiantly, Nor had proven to be the stronger fighter. He’d broken the man’s left arm and had knocked him unconscious. Dr. Bard K’lin had rushed onto the field to tend to the man’s wounds. It had been the only thing that had stopped Nor’s attack.

“Lord Nor really is brutal,” Lois continued.

“He is,” Kal agreed unhappily. “I almost wish that he would do something against the rules of the tournament so that he could be barred from it.”

The rest of the trip was made in silence. Kal and Lois went directly back to their chambers upon arrival. Kal could not wait to get out of the tournament attire. Though the uniform wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, it still wasn’t Kal’s first choice in clothing. He sighed as he realized that he’d be forced to wear the uniform for the rest of the week, or at least until he lost a match and was thereby eliminated from the competition. If honor had allowed for it, he would gladly have taken a dive in one of the rounds to escape further fights.

The following day passed in a similar manner. Kal and Lois took their own separate vehicle to the tournament, in hopes of finding an opportunity to sneak away early. Lord Nor was chosen to fight another duel in the midmorning. His competitor fared little better than the man had the day before. This time, the fighter in question hit the dirt hard and spit out a tooth. Nor was declared the victor of that round.

Kal was called to fight towards the end of the afternoon. He easily outmatched his opponent, one of Lord Nor’s brothers, an ugly man by the name of Drull. Lois could see that Drull was strong, but not very smart. It seemed that Kal effortlessly stayed three steps ahead of the man. Kal’s victory was enough to ensure that he would be called again to fight.

The week dragged on. Each day passed in the same way. Kal and his brothers were now called to fight daily, sometimes more than once. Jai was knocked out in his third round. Ching made it seven rounds, but was ultimately defeated by a young lord named Ruce A’ne, a close friend of the El family, and the second richest man on the planet.

The match-ups continued and the eliminations progressed. Kal managed to stay in the game, winning each of his fights. Some he won easily. Others were close calls. Eventually, on the final day of the tournament, only two fighters remained. Kal-El, prince of Krypton, and Lord Nor, son of Lux Uthor.

Lois’ heart sank as the match was declared. She’d seen the damage that Nor had dealt to his opponents over the course of the week. He was even more brutal than Kal and his family had said that he was. The fact that Kal was to face him chilled her down to the very marrow of her bones. She looked worriedly at her husband as he stood from his seat and strapped on the elbow and knee pads that would protect the sensitive joints.

“Kal,” she whispered, as she caught him by the door to the viewing box. “Don’t. Please. Nor scares me.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, giving her a smile and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

Her hand flew up to cup his cheek. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

He pulled her gently into his embrace and kissed her deeply, passionately. After they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. I love you.”

With that, he was out the door. He strode confidently onto the battlefield, accepting the drei that Jak held ready for him. He twirled it before him with ease. Though he did not care for dueling, the weapon was an all too familiar extension of his own arm. From the opposite end of the field, Lord Nor stepped towards him. There was a grim determination on the man’s face. Kal didn’t think he’d ever seen the man smile, unless he was beating someone in the duel. The prince set his jaw, determined to win this fight. He would do just about anything to keep Nor from becoming the victor. Besides, Kal was well aware of the amount of money that the victor’s purse held. He intended to win it so that he could send it to various parts of the planet where it was most needed.

“Ready,” the Master of the Tournament said from the safety of the sidelines. “Set. Begin!”

Kal had adopted a defensive stance, his feet planted firmly on the ground, his knees flexed. He’d been watching Nor duel since they were both children. He’d often thought of Nor’s style as lacking the finesse of a charging bull. That didn’t mean that Nor wasn’t cunning. But he was almost purely an offensive fighter. He took little interest in defense. Kal knew that he could use that knowledge to his advantage. He wouldn’t even have to goad Nor into his blindly offensive fighting style. He was already there, having been worked up by his fight earlier that afternoon. Nor raced straight at Kal, his drei raised before him.

Kal waited until the last possible second. Then he sidestepped, neatly avoiding Nor’s attack. At the same moment, Kal twisted his body. The drei arced before him, and landed heavily across Nor’s back. Nor roared in rage as Kal scored the first hit. The crowd roared in delight. Nor didn’t miss a beat. He whirled to meet Kal. For a second, the two didn’t move, and silently regarded each other. Then Nor attacked again; the drei whistled as it cut through the air. Kal only barely managed to avoid being hit as he nimbly jumped back. He struck out, but Nor avoided it this time.

Nor rushed Kal again, sweeping the weapon before him. Kal wasn’t quick enough this time. The rounded end of the drei crashed into his arm with brutal force. Kal’s upper arm exploded into pain, despite the protective padding that was built into his uniform. He barely had time to react before Nor was on the move again. Kal leapt out of the way, ducking into a roll as he hit the ground. Instantly, he was on his feet again, looking for an opening. But Nor wasn’t inclined to give him the slightest edge. He struck again, knocking Kal straight in the chest. The force drove the air from the prince’s lungs and doubled him over. He staggered backwards, clutching his chest. He could practically feel the bruise sprouting on his flesh already.

Kal gasped and sucked in a lungful of air. A determined look settled over his features. He advanced towards his rival. Nor had a grim smile on his face. Clearly, he was pleased with how the battle was going thus far. Kal took only a few steps forward, then stopped and waited for Nor to make his move. He didn’t have to wait long. Nor came at him. Moving quickly, Kal ducked into a low crouch as the drei whistled in the air above his head. In the same fluid movement, Kal struck. His drei caught Nor directly in his knees. The man stumbled forward and crashed to the ground. Kal was instantly up again, always moving. Nor struggled to his feet before Kal could land another blow.

Blind with rage, Nor struck out. Kal brought his drei up defensively, effectively blocking the blow before it could hit him. The clash of the two weapons rang out as they met in midair. A low murmur rippled through the crowd. Nor tried again, to the same result. A third time, Nor attempted to hit the prince. Kal parried the blow easily, then saw an opening to make his own attack. He feigned a blow to Nor’s right side, then swiftly pulled out of the maneuver and struck his rival’s unprotected left side. The rounded end of the drei crashed into Nor’s side. But Kal had made a critical error when he made his move. Nor saw the switch coming and let Kal strike him. Instead of defending his left, Nor arced his drei before him. Kal was too late in trying to ward off the attack. Nor’s weapon struck him full in the face.

Kal was sent reeling backwards. He lost his footing and went down on his backside, hard, though he had somehow retained his grip on his weapon, keeping him in the game. His head rang from the force of the hit. It had been hard enough to jar his teeth. His lower lip was split wide open. Blood gushed from the wound and Kal could taste the salty, metallic tang as some of it flowed into his mouth. Kal shook his head, as if to clear it. His left eye began to blacken and swell. He gingerly brought his hand up to his face. His nose was mercifully unbroken, though blood flowed from his nostrils, like some bizarre form of war paint. He brought the back of his hand to his busted lip, then pulled it away to examine the warm, sticky red fluid that marred it. Kal rolled his head from side to side as he stood, working out a knot that had formed in the muscles when he’d been struck.

The spectators were roaring riotously now. The sound was one rolling, crashing wave without beginning or end. It simply was, as though it had always been and always would be. It wasn’t possible to tell if they were shouts of outrage at the less than honorable move on Nor’s behalf, or if they were shouts of pleasure as the fight took on a new, serious turn. Kal suspected that there was a mixture of both in the tumultuous noise. He was aware of only two things - the young lord before him and Lois, whom he could see just over Nor’s right shoulder. She was standing in front of her seat, yelling, though he could not make out the words. But he could see the worry etched in her face. He nodded to her, trying to reassure her that he was all right.

Nor shifted his stance and blocked Kal’s view. Kal couldn’t tell if Lois had seen his gesture or not. The other young lord was sneering at him, pleased with the blood that was flowing from his opponent. Kal’s hands clenched tighter on his drei. He could almost feel his knuckles going white from the force of his grip. His head was buzzing with pain, but he tried to push the sensations from his mind. He simply refused to lose to Nor.

Nor gave a bestial roar as he charged. Kal stood his ground, his weapon held defensively before him. Nor and his drei crashed into Kal. The two weapons sang at the collision. Kal was pushed back a couple of feet, though he did not lose his footing. Two drag marks marred the ground, marking where his feet had scraped. Kal used Nor’s momentum against him. Before his rival could pull away to launch another attack, Kal pushed with his drei, forcing Nor back a step. In the same motion, he twisted his drei into Nor’s stomach. Kal lifted, his muscles straining. Nor’s feet lifted a few inches off the ground. But before Kal could flip the man, he twisted out of Kal’s trap. Nor hit the ground once more, but he was momentarily stunned. That was all the opportunity that Kal needed. He jabbed with his drei. The rounded end connected first with Nor’s stomach, doubling him over. Then, as fast as a striking snake, Kal jabbed again, this time hitting Nor square in the chest. Nor stumbled and fell, going to one knee.

From his position on the ground, Nor made his move. He swept his drei at Kal’s legs. Kal saw the move too late. The heavy staff crashed into the back of his knees, setting Kal’s damaged knee into a volcano of agony. He went down even as Nor stood before him. Two quick steps later, and Nor was upon him. He swung. Kal caught the drei in his chest as Nor jabbed with it, and was laid flat on his back.

Immediately, he tried to rise. Nor loomed over him, grinning malevolently. Kal stuck out with his drei, blindly hoping to make contact with his opponent. It smashed into Nor’s inner thigh, close to his groin. A look of pain crossed the young lord’s features and the drei fell from his nerveless fingers. He crumpled to the ground. Kal jumped to his feet, quickly struck Nor in the chest, and laid the man out on his back. With a swift kick, he sent the drei out of the man’s reach, then planted the end of his own weapon in the middle of Nor’s chest. Around the two fighters, the onlookers exploded into cheers.

Their prince had won the fight.

The Master of the Tournament announced the prince’s victory, though his voice could barely be heard over the cheers and whistles of the gathered crowd. Kal handed his drei to Jak once his personal attendant reached him, giving the man a grateful smile as he did so. Then he reached his hand down, offering it to Nor. Nor looked contemptuously at the proffered hand. He roughly pushed the prince’s hand aside and then pushed himself up out of the dirt and grass, wiping his palms off on his pant legs as he stood. Kal shrugged. He hadn’t really expected Nor to take his hand, though he knew that offering to help his opponent up was the proper thing to do. He bore no ill-will towards the man for what had happened in the fight, though his head still hurt and it was becoming difficult to see out of his puffy, blackened eye. But Nor, he knew, held too much pride, too much arrogance to take the hand of the man who’d bested him. The two men had never gotten along before, and Kal knew that his victory on this day would only further fuel the numerous grudges that Nor held against him.

Kal turned and limped towards the sidelines. His damaged knee was aflame from the beating it had taken when Nor caught him in the legs with his drei. He flopped down into a chair, somewhat ungracefully as the knee buckled and gave out. Dr. Bard K’lin was at his side so quickly it was almost as if he’d materialized out of thin air. In a flash, he was checking Kal’s wounds. A small, pencil thin metal tube was in his hands, which emitted a beam of yellow laser light. As the light hit Kal’s broken skin and lip, the bleeding came to an abrupt stop. The doctor gently applied a clear, soothing salve to the wounds to promote the rapid healing of the areas, including the skin around Kal’s black eye. Then he gave the prince a small, white pill to swallow, which would help to kill the pain that was buzzing throughout his entire body. Kal swallowed the pill down with a large swig of water. Then he was on his feet again, half limping, half striding, back to the center of the playing field.

The Master of the Tournament once again announced Kal as the victor. He hung a small, gold medallion around Kal’s neck, and handed him a large, red velvet satchel filled with gold and silver pieces. Kal held the winner’s purse up with both of his hands, so that the assembled spectators could see. Then he lowered it and spoke, his voice ringing clear over the sound system. The crowd immediately quieted, so that they could hear what he was saying.

“My good people of Krypton, this winner’s purse I give back to you. Every coin in this satchel will be spent on various projects to improve your quality of life. This I promise you.” He paused for effect, knowing the next portion by heart. It was the winner’s duty to announce the end of the tournament. “I thank you all for coming to this year’s tournament, and sincerely hope that you have enjoyed yourselves. Now, go forth. Eat, drink, and be merry. And may the winter to come be a gentle one for you all.”

Kal tossed the sack of coins to Jak, who stood a few steps behind him. Jak caught the item with a muffled “oof.” Together, they left the field. Kal headed directly back towards the viewing box where his family awaited him. Lois was the first out to meet him, heedless of proper etiquette in her worry for him. She flung her arms wide as she drew close. In a second, she had cleared the distance and was wrapped in Kal’s strong embrace. She hugged him back as tightly as she dared, and his hand stroked the back of her head.

“Kal, oh Kal,” she said, her voice still heavy with worry for him. “You’re hurt. Is there anything that I can do?”

“I’m fine. A little sore though.”

Lois instantly relaxed some of her grip on him. “Oh. Sorry.”

Kal chuckled. “No, you’re fine. You aren’t hurting me.”

Encouraged, Lois stretched on her toes and kissed him gently. “My hero,” she murmured against his lips.

“Ow,” Kal whispered, once her lips left his.

“Oops.”

Again, Kal chuckled. “Actually, pain never felt so good before,” he said, winking at her.

To prove his point, he bent his neck to kiss her again. This time, the kiss was not gentle. It was deep and full of passion, and promises of more to come when they were finally alone. The sound of a throat being cleared forced Kal and Lois to break their kiss. The rest of Kal’s family stood behind Lois, waiting their turn to congratulate their champion. Lois obligingly slipped out of Kal’s arms and stepped to one side, though she remained nearly within an arm’s reach of him.

“Bro! That was amazing!” Jai crowed. He pulled Kal into a back-slapping hug. “The way that you took out Nor. It was a thing of absolute beauty!” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “You have got to start practicing with me more often. I thought for sure that Nor had you beaten like ten times in that fight. But man! You pulled it off!”

“Jai’s right,” Ching said, grinning from ear to ear. Unlike Jai, who looked unable to stand still, Ching was composed. “You certainly pulled it off. But you’re rusty, little brother. You could do with some practice.” He winked at Kal.

Kal snorted good-humoredly. “I stayed in a lot longer than either of you did. I’d say that makes me better than you guys.”

Ching snorted in return. “Just luckier.”

Kal chuckled. “I had to fight Nor. How was that lucky?”

“Well, you escaped him without any broken bones,” Zara teased. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky.”

Kal tried to grimace, but his laughter twisted the look into something else entirely. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t get hit in the face with a drei.”

Laughter broke out among all the young royals. Jor-El approached, having gotten side-tracked by speaking with Dr. K’line. He silently eyed his son up and down for a moment. But his smile lit up his entire face.

“That was well fought,” he finally said approvingly. “You certainly did not face an easy opponent. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kal said, smiling widely. The move made his split lip throb in protest, though it did not begin to bleed again.

The Supreme Lord gave his son a hug, then patted his shoulder. He smiled at the young prince again, and fingered the gold medallion that hung against Kal’s chest. He inspected it for a long moment. Then he smiled again, this time wistfully.

“I have always wished to see the day when one of my sons would win the duel, as I did in the past. Tonight, we shall feast in your honor.”

“Dad…I…you don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I do. My son was victorious in a battle against a very worthy opponent. This calls for a celebration.”

“I’d really rather just get some rest,” Kal protested, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

“There will be time enough for rest before the feast. Dr. K’line says that you are more than fit for a celebration tonight. Besides, you know that it’s tradition for the winning house to host a feast.” He paused for a moment, and assessed the way that Kal stood, noticing that the prince still somewhat favored his injured knee. “How does your knee feel?”

“Better than before,” Kal admitted. “The pain pill is starting to kick in. Nor just caught me off-guard, that’s all. I’ll be fine soon enough.”

In truth, the raging inferno it had been not long before was now closer to a cozy campfire. It still hurt, but not as badly. Kal knew that within the hour, the pain would likely be nothing more than a hazy memory. He was eager for that moment to come, so that he could stand and walk in comfort again. He only hoped that the feast his father had planned would be a small affair. He was exhausted from the fight. It hadn’t been easy to stay ahead of Nor. All Kal really wanted at the moment was some time alone with Lois, and possibly a nap.

“Come on,” Kal said, wrapping his arm around his wife’s slender waist. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds great,” Lois said, eager to be alone with him.

“Ching,” Kal said, pulling his brother aside and whispering confidentially to him. “Make sure that Dad keeps this feast as low key as possible. Please?”

“I’ll do what I can, but you know how Dad is when he gets an idea into his head.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kal sighed. “Try anyway.” He glanced at Lois and a thought came to him. “Oh, and make sure that Dad invites Lois’ parents and sister.”

None of the Lynes had been present at the tournament at any point during the week. Three extra chairs had sat empty in the royal viewing box each day. And each day, Kal had seen disappointment flood Lois’ features, though she had admitted that she wasn’t surprised in the least. Samm almost never took off from his work, and he had always felt it inappropriate to have the women in his life view the sport.

Still, Kal knew that she hadn’t seen them since the wedding. At first, she hadn’t wanted to see them. She’d been too furious with her father for the arranged marriage. She’d been relieved to be away from her mother’s incessant complaining, belittling, and drinking. She’d even been too upset to want to see her own sister. And ever since she and Kal had put aside their feud, she had been too busy failing in love with, and getting to know, every aspect of her husband. But now, Kal knew that she was beginning to miss her family terribly. He only hoped that they would show up to the feast.

Kal and Lois made their slow way back to their vehicle. Jak met them there, having rushed off to the hovercraft as soon as he saw that Kal wouldn’t be needing his assistance. He knew that his lord would want to leave for home at the first available moment. Kal still limped a little, as the fire in his knee still burned, though now the campfire had died down to smoldering coals. He waved to Jak as he approached.

“My lord!” Jak said, grinning widely. “What a well-fought victory!”

“Thanks, Jak,” Kal said, as he let go of Lois so that she could get into the vehicle. He clasped the man on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“The people can’t stop talking about your win,” Jak said, as he slid behind the wheel of the vehicle. He often acted as a source of information for the prince, filling him in about things that he might otherwise miss.

Kal settled himself into the back seat, and hugged Lois to him. “Oh?” he asked, only half interested.

Jak nodded. “I overheard a lot while I was making my way back here. The people are glad to see you as the champion.”

“Lord Nor isn’t well loved,” Kal said with a sigh.

“No, he isn’t,” Jak agreed, shaking his head. He put the vehicle into drive and guided it over the land. “The people aren’t blind. There are many who are upset over the way he fights. Many are saying already that he should be barred from the event in the future, for the sole reason of hitting you in the face like that.”

Kal shrugged. “It wasn’t an honorable move, I’ll admit that. But it’s not technically against the rules either.”

“Okay, I have to ask,” Lois cut in. “What exactly is against the rules? Because it seems to me like the fighters can get away with just about anything.”

Kal shrugged again. “Well, killing your opponent for one.”

“How civilized,” Lois retorted.

Kal chuckled. “Continuing to hit your opponent after they yield. Hitting an opponent after a match is decided by the Master of the Tournament. Attacking the Master of the Tournament. Attacking one of the doctors as they try to help a fallen or injured fighter.” He sighed. “Not much, is it?”

Lois shook her head. “No.” She looked again at the handsome face that was now marred with bruises and streaked with blood and dirt. “He really did a number on you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her again. “Nothing’s broken, so that’s a good start. For now, just consider them as…battle wounds.” He grinned at her.

Lois couldn’t help but to laugh at her husband’s playful look. “It’s a good thing that I love you,” she said, shaking her head in amusement, and patting his cheek gently.

“Hear that, Jak? The lady loves me,” Kal teased as he sank deeper into the supple leather seat.

Jak didn’t respond. He merely chuckled and shook his head.

It didn’t take long before they found themselves back at the palace. By then, the fire raging in Kal’s knee was fully extinguished. He was once again able to walk without favoring the injured joint. Silently, he thanked the rapid healing effects of the medication that Dr. K’line had administered to him. But his posture and gait spoke of the weariness that went straight down into his very bones. He slowly made his way back to his chambers, Lois at his side.

They were both thankful to be the first ones back at the palace, for even the palace staff had been given each day off from their labors so that they, too, could enjoy the event. There was no one to stop them to talk as they made their way through the white marble halls. No one was there to comment on Kal’s victory. No one was there to ask him how he felt about his win. Kal was more than grateful for that fact. He wanted nothing more than to lay down for a while before the feast and the onslaught of questions, comments, and back-slaps that he was sure would be coming his way.

They made their way back to their rooms with no incidents. Once inside, Kal stripped off his tournament uniform and shoved it unceremoniously down the laundry chute. He was immensely glad that he would not be seeing it for another year. He paused for a moment to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror that stood in the bedroom. He inspected the bruises that covered the vast majority of his chest, and the injuries that he had sustained to his face. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but he also knew that it could have been much worse. Having battled Lord Nor, he truly was lucky that nothing had been broken or fractured. Still, he knew that he’d be sore for days.

With a sigh and a look of longing at his bed, Kal stripped out of his underclothes and headed into the shower. The hot water soothed his aching muscles and drained some of the pent-up tension that was still coiled like a spring within his body. He could not, however, shake the memory of Nor’s look of absolute contempt when Kal had offered to help him to his feet. He knew that Nor had always hated him, as well as Ching and Jai. But Nor’s eyes had been almost murderous when Kal had kicked away the drei and, in doing so, claimed the victory.

Easing himself out of the shower once he was finished, Kal gingerly tended his wounds. He had a small tube of the salve that Dr. K’lin had used on the wounds on his face, and he reapplied it to the broken skin. It tingled a bit at first, but it was a good feeling that felt as though it was working right away on making the skin repair itself. Kal slowly dressed, his muscles feeling too sore to move quickly, and his bruised chest feeling somehow tight. Finally satisfied, Kal exited the bathroom and collapsed on the bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, though he felt guilty about that. He desperately wanted to be with Lois - to hug her, to kiss her, to make love to her. But he simply wasn’t able to keep his eyes open any longer. He couldn’t summon the strength to call to her, though she was only just down the hall in the living room.

Fasa jumped up onto the bed, and attempted to climb onto Kal’s chest. He gently shooed the cat away towards his feet. The last thing he was aware of was feeling the cat’s warm, light frame laying across his ankles before he drifted off to sleep. The rhythmic purring deep within the cat’s chest was soothing.

Kal slept deeply and dreamlessly. When he awoke, it was a scant three hours later, though he felt as refreshed as if he had slept all night long. He sat up and stretched, then winced as his chest protested the sudden movement. A glance out of the windows told him that the feast had to be drawing near. The sun had already gone down, and only the very brim of the horizon still held any of the bright reddish orange of the sun’s last rays. Kal looked around, and frowned when he didn’t see his wife. He’d hoped that she would have come into the bedroom while he slept.

“Lois?” he called out.

His frown deepened when he received no response. He pushed himself up out of the bed. Fasa meowed unhappily at being forced out of his nice, comfortable spot. He skittered to the opposite side of the room, his tail twitching in annoyance. Kal had forgotten that the little fur-ball had been using his ankles as a bed.

“Sorry, buddy,” he apologized to the cat.

Fasa looked at him, his tail still whipping back and forth. Kal chuckled and headed to the living room, but the room was empty when he arrived. Lois was nowhere in sight. There was a faint smell of coffee coming from the kitchenette, but the leftover brew was cold to the touch when Kal laid his hand against the glass pitcher. Lois must have made herself a cup right after he had fallen asleep, he reasoned.

But that still didn’t tell him where she had gone. He yawned and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. His hand moved to rub the back of his neck as he stood in the kitchenette, lost to his thoughts. Should he look for her? Should he prepare for the feast? Had her family arrived? Was she with them now?

As he stood there, trying to decide what to do, the door to his chambers opened. His head instantly perked up from where it had been resting against his chest. He could hear Lois’ soft laughter.

“Lois?” he called to her.

“Kal?” Lois’ pace quickened when she heard his voice.

He stepped out from the kitchenette and into the living room, meeting her there.

“Feeling any better?” she asked, as she examined his bruises through the undone buttons on his shirt.

“A little. Sorry that I fell asleep before.”

She offered him a soft, loving smile. “It’s okay. You needed your rest. Even Marthe said so.”

“Did she now?” Kal teased, before planting a kiss on Lois’ forehead.

“Oh yes,” Lois said as she gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Hmm…and when did you two become such good friends?”

“Right around the time I decided to stop making you my punching bag,” Lois said, winking at him. “We had a long talk about you right after I fell in love with you. She told me all sorts of stories about you.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lois nodded. “She’s got a million of them.”

“Well, obviously she didn’t tell you anything that managed to scare you away,” he teased.

At the sound of her name, Kal’s old nursemaid had appeared in the doorway. A knowing, contented smile was on her face as she watched the prince and his wife interact. Kal’s face lit up to see the older woman, though he was so focused on Lois that he hadn’t realized at first that Marthe was in his chambers. It had been too long since he’d last had an opportunity to really speak with her or Jon. He crossed the room with eight long strides and engulfed the woman in a gentle hug.

“Marthe!” he exclaimed joyfully. “What are you doing here?”

“Lois asked me to stop by. She said that you took quite a beating in the tournament today.” She eyed the wounds on his face as worriedly as any mother would.

“Yeah,” Kal said, somewhat sheepishly. “It could be worse though,” he insisted.

“She also told me that you won.”

Kal nodded.

“Well, congratulations.”

“Thanks. You and Jon didn’t make it to the tournament?” He was a little surprised.

Marthe shook her head. “There was a chance that Jon would need to prepare for a feast tonight. And you know that I’ve never been too much of a fan of the duels. I’ve seen too many people get hurt.”

“You and me both,” Kal said with a grin.

“Kal, I asked Marthe if she had any ideas of what you could do for the bruises that you suffered.”

“I have the salve that Dr. K’line gave me.”

Lois nodded. “I know. I just feel like maybe there’s something else that we can do to get you healed quicker. Is there anything that you can do for him, Marthe?”

Marthe didn’t answer right away. She pulled the open fabric of Kal’s shirt away from his chest and eyed the ugly yellow-purple skin of his chest. She winced at the sight, knowing how much it must have pained her surrogate son. Then she inspected Kal’s injured face for a second time. She nodded thoughtfully.

“I have a soothing bath salt that may do the trick,” she said after a moment. “You can soak in it each day, then apply the doctor’s salve when you are done. I won’t swear that it will speed things up for certain, but it can’t hurt. Let me run down to my quarters to get it.”

“All right,” Kal relented, catching a glimpse of Lois’ face.

He could tell just by looking that she wanted him to try the home remedy. And really, who was he to say no to the woman that he loved? he wondered to himself.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Marthe promised him, before bustling out of the room.

Kal listened as the door to his chambers opened and then shut again. He gazed at Lois, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He shook his head and smiled a little at her.

“I told you that I’d be fine,” he said softly. “You didn’t have to search out Marthe.”

“Sure I did. You see, I have this amazing husband, and he’s hurt. And I would do anything in my power to see him made whole as soon as possible.” She grinned playfully at him while trying to give him a sultry look to let him know just why she wanted him to be pain free so quickly.

Kal chuckled and was about to speak when the intercom in the room buzzed. Lois crossed the room to it, almost tripping over Fasa as he streaked past, batting a green stuffed mouse across the floor. Nearly breathless from the close call, Lois answered the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sis!” Jai’s voice was peppy over the device. “Just thought I’d let you know that your family just arrived. Also, tell Kal that he needs to hurry up and get down here soon. Almost everyone is here now, and we can’t start the feast without the guest of honor. And some of us are starving!”

“Will do, Jai. And tell my family I’ll be right there?”

“You got it!”

The intercom clicked as Jai hung up his end. Lois turned to Kal.

“Go on,” he encouraged her. “I’ll be down in a bit. I’m just going to get changed after Marthe gets back. I can’t wear this down to the feast. Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve seen your parents and sister. You should probably have a little time alone with them.”

Lois nodded. “All right. But don’t take too long.” She crossed to him and kissed him deeply.

Kal groaned as their lips parted, regretting that they actually needed to show up to the celebration.

“Love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too,” she whispered back.

With one last glance backward, Lois left the chambers. Kal flopped onto the couch and waited for his old nursemaid to return. He settled himself deeply into the cushions, enjoying the opportunity to relax before the onslaught that he was certain the feast would bring. But, in the sudden silence caused by Lois’ departure, he felt profoundly lonely. He laughed a little at the thought. Half a year ago, he’d thought that his life was over when he’d discovered that he was promised to a stranger. And now, he felt that his life had only truly begun once he and Lois had fallen in love. His life would only ever be over if Lois was not in it.

A few minutes later, Marthe reappeared, a small, round canister in her hands. She delivered it right into Kal’s waiting hands and smiled at him.

“Thanks, Marthe,” he said, smiling back.

“My pleasure,” the woman replied. She continued to grin at him.

“What?” he asked, curiously.

Marthe shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just…”

Kal raised his brows, now completely confused. “What?”

“You and Lois are adorable together.”

Kal chuckled. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. It makes me very happy to see you so much in love. I was so afraid, when I saw how unhappy you were just after the wedding. My heart broke for you then. But now…” She shrugged as her voice trailed off.

“It was so hard, at first,” Kal confessed. “But now, I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I love her, Marthe. More than I ever knew it was possible to love someone.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth, yet he felt no shame in admitting them. Not to Marthe. She had always been like family to Kal. In a way, he’d felt as though she and Jon were a second set of parents to him. They had always been there for him, had always offered advice, had always loved him like he was their own.

Marthe smiled at him knowingly. “I’m thrilled for you, honey. I really am.”

“I guess Jon told you about my little…discussion…with him the day after the wedding?”

Marthe nodded. “He did. And about the other visits you had with him.”

Kal sighed at the memory, though he was unsurprised. He’d been so devastated by Lois’ reaction to his gift, and towards him in general, on his wedding night. It had felt good to talk with Jon the following morning, brief though the conversation had been. He’d also sought out Jon on a number of other occasions, fleeing to the safety of the palace kitchens where he knew Lois would not think to look for him. Jon had always lent a sympathetic ear to him, and had freely offered his advice when Kal asked for it. Most of it had backfired, however. Lois had been too strong-willed in her campaign to hate everyone and everything in the palace. It seemed like ages ago, or even a different lifetime altogether.

“Ancient history now,” Kal said, shrugging, as if to cast off his memories of those trying first three months.

“I’m glad,” Marthe said with another gentle smile. “Well, I’d best be off. You have a feast to attend.”

“Yeah,” Kal said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I do.” He hefted the canister of bath salt. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.”

The prince pushed himself off the couch and gave his old nursemaid another hug. “You’ve always been the best,” he said with a smile.

“I’ve always had the best to look after,” Marthe said with a wink.

With that, she swept out of the room. Kal heard the door to the chambers shut behind her, leaving him, once again, utterly alone. He took the bath salt to the bathroom and set it down on the rim of the tub. Then he got himself ready for the feast. It didn’t take long, and he soon found himself making his way to the grand ballroom. The room exploded into applause as he entered, and it was all Kal could not to grimace.

Once again, his father had gone overboard. At least three dozen of his father’s closest friends and other high ranking nobles were in attendance, as well as the entire Council of Elders. Kal lost the battle not to blush, and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He’d never been very comfortable with being the center of attention. But, he endured the attention as best he could, his eyes sweeping the room until they locked with Lois’.

She was standing by the windows. He could see Samm, Elle, and Luci standing with her. They seemed happy enough. He could see Lois laughing at something that her sister had said, while Samm and Elle grinned. Kal wondered what the joke had been, but he was immensely happy to see Lois enjoying herself.

Suddenly, Kal realized that he wasn’t sure how he felt about the Lyne family. At least, he wasn’t sure how he felt towards Samm. Kal had grown up admiring the man, and had always been on good terms with him. But after learning how thoroughly Samm had tried to suppress all the magnificent aspects that made Lois the incredible woman she was, Kal was unsure how to approach the man. He didn’t resent the good doctor. He knew that Samm had only done what he’d done in an effort to make his daughter fit the mold of what society expected of a noble young woman, even one of a lesser noble house. And yet, it bothered Kal to no end that his precious Lois had been limited in what she had been allowed to do. It angered him that Samm had found his daughter to be such a source of shame that he’d hidden her away, and never once spoken of her. It was as if Samm had simply pretended that Lois hadn’t existed. And that was inexcusable in the prince’s eyes.

It was an effort for Kal to keep the frown from showing on his face as he made his way over the threshold and into the heart of the ballroom.

As he walked, he decided that he could at least try to be happy around Samm. He could try to pretend that the man hadn’t done the things that he’d done. For Lois, Kal would slap on a happy face and do his best to interact with her father as normally as he could. It didn’t mean that he’d have to forgive Dr. Lyne’s actions. But he could be civil to his old friend.

Congratulations poured in from every side as Kal strode through the room. He gave his polite thanks to each well-wisher as he walked, never slowing his pace. At last, he found himself before his wife. His hand reached out to take hers. As they connected, it suddenly felt to Kal as though he could finally breathe again. All was right in his world. He could face this feast, so long as Lois was by his side. He lovingly placed a kiss on her forehead.

It was funny, he mused to himself. Before Lois had entered his life, he’d relied on the presence of his brothers in situations like this. They had been a source of comfort for him. But now, he wasn’t even aware of where they stood in the room, or if they were there at all. He felt as though he needed only the woman to which he was wed. Having her by his side would make this event tolerable, maybe even slightly enjoyable.

“I missed you,” he whispered to Lois.

“I missed you, too.”

“Samm,” Kal said, cordially sticking out his right hand. Samm took his hand and shook it. “Good to see you.”

“And you,” Samm said pleasantly. “That was some fight this afternoon. I had it on the video monitor as I was tending to my work,” he explained as Kal’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Lord Nor is not an easy opponent to best.”

Kal chuckled, despite himself. “You’re telling me.”

“That’s quite the shiner,” the doctor said, his gaze flicking to Kal’s black eye.

The prince shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

In truth, Kal could feel the effects of the salve already working on the bruised flesh and broken blood vessels. Already, some of the swelling seemed to have fled. It was getting easier to see out of the eye. With any luck, Kal figured that it would be back to normal in two, maybe three days, without the slightest hint that it had ever been injured.

Samm seemed to appraise the way that Kal stood with Lois. The prince’s arm was now wrapped around his wife’s waist. She was pressed into his side, a comfortable, happy smile on her face. A small smile touched the doctor’s lips. Kal did not miss it as it flared into life.

Was Samm pleased that Lois hadn’t embarrassed the family by acting the part of a proper young woman? Was he contented to see that she was happy with the choice in her husband? Was he thrilled that Kal was happy with the woman that he’d been wedded to? Was it merely just a look of relief that he’d accomplished his goal of unloading his daughter on the royal family? Kal wondered which reason had caused the doctor’s smile. His gut told him that perhaps it was all of these things.

“My daughter was just telling me how happy she has been here,” Samm offered.

Kal smiled, planted another kiss on Lois’ temple, and hugged her a little tighter to his side. Lois’ arm encircled Kal’s waist in response, and she sighed ever so softly. Her eyes fluttered blissfully shut for a brief moment.

“I’m glad,” Kal responded. “She’s made the palace so much the brighter with her presence. I want you to know that I love her deeply, Samm.”

Samm nodded. “I am pleased to hear that. I had been worried that…” He stopped and groped for the proper words.

“That…?” Kal prompted.

“My daughter…well…she can be a handful, sometimes.”

Kal was thunderstruck. Was Samm really getting into this, here and now? Was he really saying this right in front of Lois? He frowned and made the instantaneous decision to cut off the good doctor before he could say more.

“Samm, I assure you that I love everything about Lois. Especially all of the aspects that set her apart from all the other noble women that I have ever met. It’s refreshing to see a woman with a mind of her own and a determined, free spirit. My hope is that you encourage Luci to be the same way.” His voice was cordial, but with an underlining hardness to it, in an effort to close the discussion before it could progress any further. “Krypton could use more women like Lois. It would be a much better place.”

Lois looked up at Kal’s face in astonishment. She wasn’t surprised at Kal’s words. She wasn’t shocked that he had defended her. His tone, however, had been unexpected. She’d rarely heard her husband put anyone in their place like that before. And she’d never seen her father shocked into silence.

For his part, Samm seemed to be at a loss for words. Elle gave her husband a smug look, one that all but said that she had told him to keep his mouth shut. And Luci wore a half-concealed smile of encouragement, which she extended to Kal.

“Please, forgive my husband’s misguided tongue,” Elle said, shooting Samm another reproachful look. “He rarely thinks before he speaks. And never before he acts.”

“I didn’t…” Samm said after a moment, groping for words. “That is…I never meant any disrespect.” His words were hastily spoken, in an effort to appease both his wife and Krypton’s prince.

Kal nodded, at a loss for words himself. Samm’s entire face and neck had gone scarlet with embarrassment at Kal’s rebuke. Samm’s hands moved restlessly, as though wrestling with the words that lay caught within his mind. A minute passed before the doctor seemed to find the correct wording.

“It’s just…well…I’ve done some things in my life that I regret,” he admitted, hanging his head. “I’ve tried to be a good father. I’ve tried to raise my girls to be what society expects of them. And maybe I was wrong to do that. I can’t take back the past.”

“No, you can’t,” Kal agreed gently, feeling some, but not yet all, of his disappointment in the doctor fading away. “But you can try to be better in the future.”

“And I will,” Samm said, nodding.

Samm was saved from further embarrassment as the first course was served. Kal guided Lois to the long banquet table that had been set up in the center of the ballroom. He found himself seated at his father’s left side, near his dear friend, Ruce A’ne. He was grateful for that, and soon lost himself to easy banter with the man. Ruce was a couple of years older than Kal was, closer to Ching’s age. But the two had a strong friendship, to the point where they considered each other as brothers of a sort.

As they talked, Kal’s eyes swept the length of the table. He was surprised to see Lux Uthor at the feast, though it didn’t surprise him that the man was alone. His sons, Nor, Ran, and Drull, had apparently opted not to attend the celebration. That was perfectly fine with the prince. In fact, he preferred it that way.

The celebration lasted long into the night. Kal politely chatted with each of the Elders and visiting nobles. Lois was almost constantly at his side, though he encouraged her to spend some time with her family. He even managed to hold another conversation with Samm, late in the evening. They did not discuss Lois, simply because neither of them felt like getting into an argument, though Samm did apologize again for his earlier remarks. Instead, they spoke about Samm’s work. He had a new theory that those with Kryptonian genetics would possess a host of powers in the presence of a yellow sun, like that of Earth. Kal listened respectfully, but found the idea to be slightly farfetched.

Kal did find himself able to spend some time talking with Lois’ sister. He took an immediate liking to the girl. In many ways, she reminded the prince of his wife. She had the same eyes; twin brown pools of endless depth that held so much fire and intelligence within them. He loved the fact that, like Lois, Luci wasn’t afraid to speak her mind openly to him, though she was, perhaps, a little shier than her older sister. Still, it was refreshing to see that, despite Samm’s best efforts, he hadn’t succeeded in squashing everything that set his daughters apart from all the other women Kal had ever met.

Kal was mildly surprised when Lux Uthor approached him between the main course and dessert. The noble lord heartily congratulated the young prince on his victory in the tournament. Lord Uthor seemed genuinely impressed with the way that Kal had handled himself in the fight, and apologized for his sons’ absences. Kal waved the lord’s concern away. He understood that none of the men would have the desire to attend the feast.

Dutifully, Kal made conversation with everyone, but his mind stayed with Lois. There were times throughout the night when she was not with him, instead, holding private conversations with her family. He could see the happiness on his wife’s face, could see just how much she had missed them, despite everything else. He noticed too, that they were just as happy to see Lois. Elle became so involved in catching up with her daughter that she never reached for a single glass of the expensive wines that were freely flowing that evening.

Luci was often at her sister’s side, and Kal could see just how much the two had missed each other. Constant touches between the two imparted friendship and love between the siblings. And once their smiles blossomed, they did not fade so long as the two were near each other. Once or twice, he could even see Lois babbling excitedly about something or another, but he was too far away to hear what it was about.

At last, the celebration began to wind down. Lords and ladies alike took their leave, dispersing in small groups. Kal felt a rush of relief flood his body as the room began to clear. It was well after midnight when the last family, the Lynes, finally bid the royal family farewell. Kal could see the conflict in Lois’ eyes as she said goodbye to her family. On the one hand, she loved them and missed them. And on the other, he could see that she was relieved to have that comfortable separation from them so that she could fully be herself again. Kal took her hand in his once the Lyne family was gone, and led her back to their chambers.

***

Winter came on strong that year. Almost weekly, storms dumped their heavy loads of snow upon the planet, turning the landscape into a white and crystalline world. And though the weather didn’t allow for many walks in the gardens, it did lend itself to nights spent cuddled before the fireplace in Lois and Kal’s chambers. Sometimes, they spent the nights alone in their rooms. Lois would snuggle into Kal’s side on the couch, watching a movie with him, or reading a book while he read one of his own choosing, or making love with him before the roaring fire in the hearth. They savored each one of those nights, wondering how they had ever survived the long, dark winter nights alone.

Other times, they played games with Ching, Zara, and Jai. They switched off which of them would host the game nights, and Lois was struck with how differently each of the brothers’ chambers were decorated. Kal’s rooms had always been comfortable, neat, and orderly; though the assortment of trinkets wouldn’t have otherwise meshed together, had they been displayed in anyone else’s home. Ching and Zara’s rooms were decorated in a similar fashion, though the crown prince collected military paraphernalia. And Jai’s rooms were a nearly chaotic mess of out of place objects - a sweater thrown over the back of the couch, a book left in the kitchenette next to the coffeemaker, a mug of cold tea left on a bookshelf.

Each time they assembled, the men would bring their cats, so that they could play with their siblings. Lois delighted in watching the fur-balls interact, wrestling on the floor or chasing each other from room to room. It was impossible to tell which cat was the biggest troublemaker.

When they gathered together for game nights, Lois saw even further differences between the Supreme Lord’s three sons. Ching was an absolute expert at games of strategy. Lois and Kal both excelled at word games, though occasionally Lois’ choice in words came into question. Zara proved to be a card shark and Jai was a wealth of random trivia. A number of times, Jor-El even joined them, and Lois was surprised when she saw the Supreme Lord arguing over whether or not a “barn cat” counted as a farm animal in one of their games.

Lois found herself enjoying the company of Kal’s family more than ever. It had been nice to be with them during the summer months. Yet she had always preferred being out and alone with Kal. Now that the weather forced them indoors, she still loved every moment of the time spent alone with her husband, but it was wonderful to have the others around to help pass the time, and to prevent her from going stir crazy. Still, there were scattered days when the bitter winds stopped blowing and the temperature was warm enough for her to venture outdoors with Kal. On more than one of those fine days, the others had joined them as they went out to enjoy the sunshine and the cold, fresh air.

On one such day, though it was barely above freezing, Lois and Kal decided that they needed to get out of the palace. It was too cold to go far, but they could at least stroll the palace grounds. They bundled up in thick, warm clothing, and headed out of the palace walls. They met Zara in the halls as they walked, and invited her to join them. Before long, all five of the young royals were walking in the gardens. Steam rose into the air at every breath. Snow crunched beneath every booted step. Conversation and laughter soon rang over the snow and ice-encrusted landscape.

At one point, Kal found himself trailing his brothers. He looked at Lois and put a finger to his lips, signaling for her not to speak. She frowned at him in confusion for a moment. Kal winked at her and she nodded, still unclear as to his intentions. Then the prince stooped low, scooping up a handful of snow. He quickly balled the white, powdery stuff and lobbed it at the back of Ching’s head. The toss went wide, however, and struck Zara instead. The snowball made a soft thunk! as it struck the hood of her coat. She wheeled around and fixed Kal with a look of mock annoyance. Then she gathered some snow to make a retort.

Kal put his hands before him, in a placating manner. “Now, Zara,” he said, feigning fright. “Don’t make any rash decisions here. That wasn’t meant for you.”

“Oh, really?” Her eyes twinkled in merriment.

“That was meant for your husband.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she teased.

“Well…yes,” Kal shrugged.

Zara laughed and launched her snowball. It struck Kal in the center of his chest.

“Of course, you know, this means war,” Kal said in a dramatic voice, bending to collect more ammunition.

“Hit me if you can,” Zara taunted him.

Ching grinned widely, stepping up to Zara’s side. “Don’t you hit my wife, Kal. I’m warning you.”

“Ooh, I’m scared now,” Kal said, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. He made himself shake a little as he taunted his older brother.

“I’m warning you,” Ching said again, quickly grabbing some snow and forming it into a ball. He bounced it lightly in the palm of his hand.

Lois also grabbed a handful of snow. Having watched a couple of the snowballs being made, she mimicked the motion and soon had a hard packed projectile in her hands. It brought back a very distant memory to her, of having done this with her own flesh and blood sister, once long ago.

“You’ll have to go through me to get to Kal,” she offered, stepping before her husband.

Ching considered for a moment. “That’s fine by me,” he grinned. “I bet you throw like a girl anyway.”

“Hey!” Lois said, in mock indignation at Ching’s gentle teasing.

No offense had been meant, she knew, and so she took none. She was all too familiar with Ching’s sense of humor.

She reared her arm back and tossed the snowball. It arced through the air before her, cutting through the space between Ching and herself. Ching attempted to sidestep the attack, but the ground beneath him was slippery with half buried patches of ice. The snowball exploded against his chest half a second before he slipped. He went down hard, landing on his backside in the snow. He erupted into laughter.

“What an arm!” he praised Lois. “You’ve got better aim than Kal. Not that that’s all that difficult, mind you.”

“Hey!” Kal said.

“The truth hurts, baby brother,” Ching retorted with a shrug, as he pushed himself up out of the snow to stand. He brushed some of the white flakes from his coat with one gloved hand.

“Guys, guys, can’t we all just get along?” Jai said dramatically, stepping in between his two older brothers.

A glance passed between Kal, Lois, Zara, and Ching.

“No!” the four said with one voice.

Four snowballs struck Jai. One took him in the chest, another in the legs, another in the middle of his back, and the last in the back of his head. That was all that it took. An all out war ensued. There were no alliances. It was every man for himself, one lone warrior facing four powerful foes out in a frozen wonderland.

Snowballs whizzed through the air, some hitting their targets, some missing by mere inches. Dull thwacks! and thuds! resounded as the snowballs hit their marks. Peals of laughter rent the brittle air, causing a few nearby icicles to shake loose, fall, and shatter into hundreds of shining pieces. Good-natured insults and teasing were tossed as easily as the snowballs. Tears of laughter were frozen on every face, and every eyelash turned to crystal. Muffled “oomphs!” occasionally blended into the chaos.

At one point, Kal found himself under attack from all four of the others. He wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, and he muttered good-humoredly about the unfairness of the situation. Then he promptly launched a wad of snow at his wife. It struck her in the upper arm. She responded by tossing a lightly packed snowball at him. It was so loosely packed together that it began to break apart in mid-flight. Kal started to make fun of it, but then became glad that it had been structurally weak as it whacked him in the face. His open mouth was instantly filled with snow. The finger he’d been pointing at her with drooped in defeat. He gently wiped away the flakes from his eyes and spit out the excess snow in his mouth. Lois was standing not more than ten feet away, her hand to her mouth in genuine horror.

“Kal!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face like that!”

Kal nodded. Then he grabbed up a large handful of snow. Lois backed up two nervous steps. Her hands flew up before her chest, as if to ward off the coming blow. But Kal wasn’t balling up the snow. Instead, he launched himself at her, snow spewing from behind his feet as he dashed towards her. Lois squealed and tried to flee. But Kal’s long legs easily covered the distance faster than Lois could manage to move. He tackled and landed atop her. Cold from the snow instantly soaked through the thick layer of their clothing. A mischievous gleam was in Kal’s eyes and his mouth was twisted up into a roguish smile. The hand filled with snow made its slow way towards the opening at the neck of her coat.

Lois saw the move and her husband’s intention. She instantly grabbed his wrist and twisted, trying to force it back closer to Kal. Her strength was no match for his, but he allowed her to make some headway regardless. Or perhaps he was just distracted by the close proximity to her. With a final shove, Lois forced his hand back. The snow dropped from his palm back down to join the rest on the ground. As quick as lightning, Lois scooped up a handful and shoved it down the neck of Kal’s coat.

“Gah!” he cried out at the unexpected turn of events, twitching at the sudden onslaught of cold.

Behind him, Zara, Ching, and Jai burst into a fit of laughter. Ching helped Kal to his feet, as Kal twisted and tried to shake the snow out of his coat. Jai went to Lois, offering his hand to her. She gratefully accepted, and once she was on her feet, he clapped her on the shoulder.

“That was awesome,” he said with a smile.

Lois laughed and brushed a now wet lock of her hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “Thanks, Jai.”

“No problem, sis. It’s just so great to see someone getting the best of my dear big brother.”

Kal shivered a little as the snow melted and seeped through his clothes. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he asked Lois, a little surprised by her maneuver.

“Once,” she admitted. “I guess I was about ten and Luci was about six. It was my first and last snowball fight. Until today, that is.”

“Let me guess,” Kal said, zipping his coat up higher to cut the wind that was slinking its way beneath the heavy waterproof fabric. “Your father found out?”

“What else?” Lois said with a shrug.

“And proper young ladies don’t roll around in the snow,” Kal sighed, unhappily giving his best guess as to what Samm’s words had been.

Lois nodded. “Exactly.”

Kal shook his head and his fists balled, independent of his conscious mind. He gritted his teeth, effectively biting back the scathing comment against Samm that was burning on his tongue. The muscle in his jaw ticked. Lois did not miss that, and she moved to Kal’s side. She rubbed his arm soothingly.

“It’s okay,” she said in a low voice.

“No, it isn’t,” Kal growled. “Lois, since the moment I started to learn about you, your father’s actions have bothered me. It isn’t right that he tried so hard to stifle your nature.”

“Kal, I appreciate that you feel that way. And I love you for it. But that’s all in the past now. Now, I have you and this wonderful life of freedom that you’ve opened up for me.” She smiled at him as his own smile ghosted over his lips. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’m freezing.” Her teeth were chattering ever so slightly.

Kal nodded. “All right.”

The others murmured their agreement. They were all covered from head to toe in a thick, crusty layer of snow. Their clothing was sodden from where their body heat had melted some of the snow. Jai was shivering visibly and Zara was blowing puffs of air into her gloved hands. Ching’s hair was plastered to his head from a mix of melted snow and sweat from the exertion of the fight. With one last look back at the battlefield, the five young royals headed back indoors.

At the door, they brushed as much snow as they could from their coats and clothing. But they still managed to drag some indoors with them. The heat that greeted them seemed unbearably high after the frigid outdoor temperature. Instantly, they felt as if their frozen faces and fingers were beginning to thaw. An ache set in as their bodies adjusted to the warmth, but it was a good feeling. Droplets of melted snow dripped from their clothing, leaving behind small pools on the marble floors; a visible trail of their passing. The soles of their boots squeaked too loudly as they walked, each one heading to their own chambers to get changed into warm, dry clothing.

Later that night, Kal and Lois relaxed in their own chambers. Kal lit a fire in the living room’s large hearth. Fasa settled down before the blaze and dozed off on the soft carpeting. Lois and Kal snuggled together on the couch, clutching steaming cups of hot chocolate. Kal held Lois close, completely content to watch the dancing flames while outside the snow began to come down once more. He’d dreamed of moments like these, back before he’d ever wed. He’d envisioned the peaceful quiet and comfortable embraces before a roaring fire while the snow fell beyond his windows. He had just never been able to picture who the woman in his arms would be. But now, Kal could not imagine it being anyone besides Lois.

The next morning, Kal awoke before Lois. He groaned as he rolled from his back to his side. It was so tempting to just close his eyes and go back to sleep. He didn’t want to leave the warmth of the blankets, nor did he want to leave Lois’ side. But, he had a plan to stick to. And in order for him to have enough time to do what he needed to do, he was going to have to get out of bed. With a sigh, he pushed the blankets away and swiftly dressed. He bent and placed a kiss on his wife’s head. Lois murmured contentedly, but did not otherwise stir. Kal was glad of that. He wanted to surprise her when she awoke.

He shuffled off to the living room, still more asleep than awake. First things were first, he reasoned, as he changed his course. He ducked into the kitchenette and made a strong cup of coffee for himself. The caffeine seemed to rejuvenate him almost instantaneously. He drained his mug quickly, enjoying the hot beverage as it slid down his throat. Then he padded softly over to one of the largest closets in his chambers. He rummaged for a few minutes, looking for the boxes that held what he was looking for. Finally, he found the ones that he wanted. He piled them on the coffee table in the living room, then brought out a ladder.

As the sun rose in the east, he began his work.

Three hours later, he was still going strong, though he was nearly finished with his task. He hummed various tunes as he worked, ascending and descending the ladder with ease, as if his body knew no fatigue. He was so engrossed in his work that he never heard Lois enter the room.

“Kal?” she said softly.

The prince had been climbing the ladder again. Lois’ voice took him off guard. He missed the next step, lost his balance, and fell. Luckily, he’d been close to the floor, but the maneuver still caused him to fall on his backside. He chuckled after hitting the floor and shook his head at his own clumsiness. He rubbed his lower back and backside absently.

“Morning, Lois!” he said cheerfully.

“Morning. What…what is all of this?”

The room was completely bedecked in snowflakes of every size and shape. Some were made of crystal, others of colored glass of every hue. Strings of multicolored lights hung about the room. Kal had been tacking up a string of them when she’d entered the room. Fasa was happily playing with the end of the strand, batting it with his paws. He meowed at Lois as she moved further into the room, then went back to playing with the lights, testing a blue one to see if it was edible.

“They’re decorations for the festival of Winter’s Deep,” Kal said, standing. “Didn’t you ever…?”

Lois nodded as old memories surfaced. “I think when I was really young, my father used to decorate. Not as elaborate as this, of course. A few lights here. A couple of snowflakes there.” She gestured absently. “But then he got so focused on his work that traditions like this one fell to the wayside. Mom was always too tipsy to climb any ladders. After a while, I guess I just sort of forgot about it. And since Dad was always too busy to take us into the city to see the displays and join in the festivities, it’s never been big on my list of priorities.”

“Please, tell me that your parents at least exchanged gifts with you?” Kal pleaded.

Lois nodded again. “Yeah, that we always did. Nothing huge. Just small tokens really.”

“Good,” Kal said. “We do the same thing. Most people would think that we probably go all out for the holiday. But we just exchange a few tokens. My brothers got me a rare signed, first edition copy of my favorite book last year. And Jai got all of the cats new laser pointers.”

“You give gifts to the cats?” Lois asked, surprised. She looked at Kal as though he’d suddenly sprouted a second head.

Kal chuckled. “Well, sure! They’re people too.”

“You are one weird guy, Kal-El.”

“I know.” He laughed again, grinning from ear to ear. “So…do you like it?” Kal asked, spreading his arms as if to embrace the entire room.

“I love it,” Lois answered, a huge, loving smile curling her lips. “Did you do all of this just for me?”

“Yes and no,” Kal admitted. “I wanted to surprise you by having it all done before you got up. I almost made it, too.” He gestured to the last strand of lights that he had been hanging when he’d fallen from the ladder. “Winter’s Deep has always been my favorite holiday. I love that the whole planet takes the week off from work. I love going out and finding the perfect gifts to give. I adore going into the city to see the various displays, and the huge celebration on the last night.” He grinned widely. “There’s a certain magic to this time of the year.”

“I’ve never really felt that way,” Lois said in a small voice.

Kal crossed the room and cupped her cheek with one hand. He gently tilted her head to look up at him. “That’s because you’ve never celebrated it with me,” he assured her. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

“I’m already starting to like this holiday a little more,” Lois said as their lips parted, her eyes still closed.

“I thought you might.”

“Just one thing, Kal.”

“Yeah?

“You do know that the festival of Winter’s Deep is a month away, right?”

Kal laughed lightly. “Of course. But it was my mom’s tradition to decorate early. As soon as the Harvest Festival was over, she would start pulling out the boxes of decorations and getting them ready for Winter’s Deep. She loved having the decorations and lights up for a long time so that she could admire them. It was her favorite holiday. The same goes for my dad as well. I guess I’ve just always been sort of programmed to follow in the traditions that they’ve set down. I guarantee that when we go out into the rest of the palace today, it will be fully decorated.”

“Your whole family is so unlike anything I ever imagined growing up,” Lois said, sitting down in an armchair.

Kal shrugged and ascended the ladder. “We get that a lot, actually. The problem is, people expect the ruling family to have to be formal and…I don’t know…uptight all the time. The truth is, we’re no different than anyone else. Oh, we have more responsibilities than any other noble house, but we’re exactly the same in every other way.”

He began to tack up the dangling strand of lights. Fasa meowed up at him as the last section moved beyond his reach. Kal descended the ladder, moved it, and went back up. He repeated the cycle until at last the lights were fully up. Fasa paced at the foot of the ladder, disappointed that his toy had been taken away. Kal bent, scratched the cat’s orange head, then reached over to a puffy red ball. He threw it, and the tabby bolted after it, making happy little noises as he ran.

As Kal had predicted, the rest of the palace had been transformed overnight. Every hallway, every room was tastefully decorated. Lois could scarcely believe that it had all been done in one night. She imagined that the palace staff must have worked the whole night through. She stopped Kal often to admire the work as they moved through the palace.

She even sensed a change in Jor-El when the family gathered together that morning for breakfast. He seemed to be happier, lighter-hearted, and more mirthful than he’d ever been before. True, she had seen a different side to the Supreme Lord ever since she had first come to live at the palace. But there seemed to be an extra twinkle in his eye, an extra bounce in his step now that the holiday decorations had popped up all over the palace. She decided instantly that she liked the changes that she was seeing in the royal family.

Still, the world did not stop just because the holiday was approaching. Kal was still kept busy. There were still meetings for him to attend. There were still projects that he was working on, spreading out the last of the money that he’d won in the duel a couple of months prior. There were still petitioners to be heard each week. Whenever he could, Kal tried to work from his own chambers, drawing up proposals and figuring out the logistics of how best to achieve his goals. Almost every time, he asked Lois to sit with him. She became his sounding board for ideas and he looked to her for help, listening to her ideas and incorporating them whenever he could.

Lois busied herself as best she could when Kal wasn’t around, often spending her days with Zara, plotting with the other woman on what they could buy for the rest of the family for the Winter’s Deep gift exchange. Days flew by in the blink of an eye. Nights flew by even faster. Weeks rushed past as if they were merely hours.

At last, the first day of the holiday week started.

As always, the holiday began a week before the shortest day of the year, and culminated on the solstice, when the night was at its longest and the sunlight was at its weakest, most fleeting time. Lois found herself growing fonder of the holiday with every passing day. Since the entire planet was at rest from their usual labors, that meant that even the ruling house could step back and take a much needed break. And Kal utilized every possible free moment to be with his wife.

The week passed by in the span of a heartbeat. Lois felt that it had barely begun before the solstice arrived. The day was clear, not a single cloud marring the sky above. It was a welcome change from the steady, but light, snows that had been falling sporadically throughout the previous week and a half. As the early sunset flared into the sky, the Supreme Lord and his family left the palace. They headed into the heart of the city, to participate in the grand festival that was held there each year. Lights of every color shone in the gathering darkness, from the silver-white of the distant stars to the deep red of the Kryptonian sun. Soft greens, vibrant oranges, icy blues, regal purples; the vast array of colors dazzled the eye, and gave the illusion of casting a cheery, physical warmth to the icy outdoor air.

As they wandered through the crowds, Jor-El took his leave of his children. He waded through the mass of people, seeking out his old friends. Kal glimpsed his father starting up a conversation with Lux Uthor, Jen Mai, and Lord Ra, Zara’s esteemed father. The prince smiled. It was always good to see his father unwinding at this time of the year. He knew what pressures usually weighed so heavily on the Supreme Lord’s mind, so it was a relief to see his father having the opportunity to relax a bit. The pressure of ruling was one of the greatest reasons why Kal was glad only to be Ching’s heir - and only until his brother and sister-in-law produced a son of their own.

Inwardly, Kal wondered if that would ever be the case for them. Though he knew that they had both been trying, and though they both deeply desired children, it seemed fate had other plans. Four times now, Zara had miscarried early into her pregnancies. One pregnancy had actually proven itself to be filled with hope and promise until it ended in a stillborn son born months too early. It broke Kal’s heart to know of the pain that Ching and his wife harbored in their hearts. He stopped at the wishing well in the center of the park where the festival was being held, dropped in a coin, and wished for an end to Ching and Zara’s sorrows.

Draping his arm around Lois, Kal strolled with his brothers and sister-in-law through the festival. Booths of every type had sprouted up all along the perimeter of the park. Some merchants sold trinkets. Others were selling food and drink of every kind. Steam rose into the air as meats cooked on portable stove tops or over open barbeque pits. Kal’s mouth watered at some of the delectable odors that hung thickly in the frigid air. He purchased sample-sized portions at a number of the vendors, both because he desired to taste as much as he could, and so as to not favor one common merchant over another. Lois followed his lead, thrilled to be experiencing such a wide variety of food.

As they wandered through the festival, they stopped and talked with many people. Most were common folk who desired to express their wishes for a happy Winter’s Deep and for the new year that it kicked off. Some added their sincerest thanks for the work that the royals had done to better their lives, directly or indirectly. Others were nobles who they were friends with. Kal greeted them all graciously, stopping to chat with each one for a few moments, and wishing them well for the upcoming year.

For a long time, Ruce A’ne walked with them. Lois noted to herself that the young man was very much like Kal and his brothers. It was no wonder that they had become such close friends. And yet, she had to admit that he was more like Ching than like Kal. He had the same sense of formality to him that underlined even his most playful of moments. Still, he was a good man, that much Lois could see. He had the same sense of concern for the common people that Kal had.

After a while, the group grew cold. Not even their heavy coats seemed able to cut the chill of the air. Zara began to tremble a little in the cold. Ching lovingly wrapped his arms about her, but it didn’t seem to be enough. Lois pressed into Kal’s side and he held her tightly. When she also began to shake, Kal smiled at her.

“Want to go back home?” he asked her, nuzzling his frozen nose into the top of her hat.

Lois shook her head. “I want to stay. I’m enjoying myself. I’m just cold.”

A smile crossed Kal’s lips. “Stay here with the others.”

“Where are you going?”

“I think this calls for some hot chocolate,” he replied with a grin.

“You buying?” Jai piped up, suddenly interested in Lois and Kal’s conversation.

Kal laughed. “Of course.”

“Great! Make sure mine has marshmallows,” the younger man said. “The little ones. Not the big ones. Ooh, and whipped cream too.”

“Ruce? You want one too?” Kal asked.

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry,” Lois said. “I’ll miss you until you’re back.”

“You won’t even notice that I’m gone,” he promised her.

Kal turned from the group and headed through the crowd, already missing his wife’s presence. It was only slightly more than two hours before midnight now, when the fireworks would be shot off to ring in the new year. Still, he knew that something else was happening this night before that would happen. His father had refused to tell him just what was going on, but had assured him that he would be very pleased indeed once it struck ten o’clock. Whatever it was, Jor-El had been excited about it, and Kal was nearly at his wit’s end as curiosity ate at him like a hungry, insatiable beast.

Kal carefully but swiftly made his way to the closest booth selling hot beverages. Unfortunately, half the city seemed to have the same idea. Kal craned his neck in every direction, looking for a booth that was less crowded. He finally spotted one, way back towards the entrance to the park. He quickly jogged towards it. Only a few people were in line, so he joined the back of it, pulling his hat down tighter around his ears to keep the cold at bay.

Meanwhile, the crowd’s attention was riveted to a raised stage that stood some thirty feet above the ground. At the stroke of ten, spotlights clicked on, illuminating the metal causeways and multi-tiered platforms. A roar of excitement swirled through the gathered mass of bodies. A peal of an electric guitar rang out, inciting the crowd even further. Cheers and whistles grew to a deafening level as the music group took to the stage. As the guitar riff faded, Kal’s smile grew. So that was what his father had planned.

Back with Kal’s family, Lois smiled. She knew, even before the band’s name was uttered, that the group on stage was Kal’s absolute favorite. Their music was what her husband often worked out to. And, Lois had to admit, she had grown fond of the group as well.

Par Whyt, the Royal Public Relations Manager, announced the group to the screaming crowd below. Lois had met the kindly older man a handful of times, and liked him well enough. Then another riff of the electric guitar shattered the brittle air and the concert began. Lois found herself entranced by the clear sounds and tapping her toe in time to the beat of the drums. Ruce, Ching, Jai, and Zara were all swept up in the music as well, though she knew that none them loved the band as much as Kal did. The music swelled and grew, louder and more feverish as each minute passed; an entire ocean of sound crashing around them, drowning them in a sweet embrace and obliterating the rest of the world. Nothing existed except for the music that surrounded them, pushed and pulled at the crowd, beats that could be felt deep within one’s chest and which forced hearts to beat in tune with it.

No one was aware of the black-suited figures as they slipped through the crowd.

Since Lois and the rest were towards the back, almost no one saw as the attack was launched. Needles flashed, coldly reflecting the numerous lights that were strung in the area. Ching, Jai, and Ruce fought hard. But there were simply too many of them. A blow to the back of Ruce’s head knocked him out. He fell to the ground and one of the masked attackers kicked him to one side. Another jabbed a needle into Ching’s neck. In the next instant, the Supreme Lord’s heir crumpled to the hard packed snow, his eyes rolling in his head. Zara and Jai were the next ones down, though Jai managed to hit a few of the attackers. Lois heard the muffled “oomphs” as the half-prince made contact with the others. Lois did the only thing that she could think of. She started to scream for help, hoping to attract attention.

Several of the closest onlookers finally turned in the direction of the royal family. But the attackers were prepared. Five of them opened up canisters that had hung from their belts. Smoke immediately issued forth from the breaches. Then they threw the shiny metal containers into various parts of the crowd. People began to choke on the gas.

Panic ensued.

The screams changed from an enthusiastic cheer for the band into blood-curdling screeches of fear. Bodies began to run in every direction. The music came to an abrupt halt. Lois pounded on the chest of one of the attackers who was trying to subdue her. She clawed at him, trying to escape. A hand twisted in her necklace, choking her. A second later, she felt the sharp sting of a slender needle as it punctured the skin of her neck. Blackness engulfed her and she knew no more.

Kal, meanwhile, had finished obtaining the hot chocolate that he’d left to get. He heard the change in the screams and began to rush back towards where his family was, the cardboard tray of drinks clutched tightly in his hand as though it would help in some way. He fought his way back through the crowds as they swirled around him in a blind panic. Finally, he reached the spot were Lois and the rest of his family had been. They were gone. Ruce was starting to come to, miraculously not trampled by the crowd. Kal dropped the tray he was holding. Hot chocolate exploded in every direction as the cups hit the ground. He ignored it, though some splashed onto his pants and burned his skin. He bent down and helped Ruce to his feet.

Something glittering on the ground caught Kal’s eye. He bent again and retrieved it.

Lois’ necklace; the chain snapped.

“Lois?” Kal cried, twisting this way and that, desperately looking for his wife. “Lois?”

He knew instinctively that the attack had been to kidnap her and the rest of his family. If it hadn’t, he was sure that Ching and Jai would have gotten Lois and Zara safely to one side, and then would have plunged back into the crowd to help. They never would have just turned tail and ran with the rest of the crowd. The simple fact that he did not see his brothers, or the women, confirmed his worst fears.

Ruce shook his head as he stood. “No use,” he said, wincing against a sharp pang of pain. “They’re gone.”

“What happened?” Kal demanded of his friend. “Where is everyone?”

“We were attacked,” Ruce said.

“By who?”

Ruce shook his head again. “I don’t know. They were all hooded and masked. I couldn’t see…”

“Which way did they go?”

“I don’t know.” He gingerly shook his head again. “They knocked me out before they took the others.”

“Did anyone else see what went on?”

“Maybe,” Ruce said, biting his lower lip in thought. “Everyone was caught up in the music though, at first.”

“Kal!” Jor-El’s voice cut through the frigid air.

The last of the crowd was finally dispersing. Security guards were getting the stragglers under control. Others were approaching the gas bombs, though they had since stopped releasing their contents. It had been a precise, surgical strike. Kal had no illusions about that.

“Dad!” Kal called back as the Supreme Lord rushed to his side, Bilan Hend’son hard on his heels. He waved to his father, hoping to convey with the gesture that he was unharmed.

The Chief of Security jogged past, never stopping, though Jor-El did. Instead, Bilan continued on, rushing to speak with the members of the band who had been on stage. From their vantage point, it was possible that they had seen something of use, including which way the kidnappers had fled.

“Are you all right?” Jor-El asked, engulfing Kal in a relieved hug. Then he pulled back, concernedly looking over his son for any obvious signs of injury.

“I’m fine,” Kal assured him. “I wasn’t here when it happened. I was getting drinks for everyone.” He gestured to the trampled ground around them, the once white snow now flecked with splotches of brown from the spilled drinks. “I heard the screams and ran back, but I was too late. They were already gone.”

“They left me behind,” Ruce said thoughtfully. There was a hint of an apology to his voice, as if he could have done more.

“Maybe they were only after my family,” Kal said, looking down at the diamond star necklace in his hand.

He sighed, unzipped his coat, and put the gem in the breast pocket of his shirt, close to his heart. The organ gave out an ache of sadness at the motion and Kal’s breath caught in his throat for the briefest of moments. Then he zipped up against the cold once more. He shoved his hands into his pockets as the realization settled in.

Lois was gone. His brothers were gone. And so was Zara.

Kal had no doubts that he would have also been taken if he hadn’t left to get drinks. Only dumb luck had saved him from that fate. Part of him wondered if he should consider himself lucky for that, or if it would have been better if had had been taken with them. He finally settled on lucky. At least, by being free, he could do something to find his family’s kidnappers. He swore to himself that he would find a way to get them all home safely.

Jor-El shook his head sadly, helplessly looking around. “I’ve always feared this.”

“Dad…” Kal said gently, putting his gloved hand on his father’s shoulder.

“I’ve always been terrified that one day my children would be targeted. But I trusted too much in how stable and quite the planet is. And now, my family is paying the price for my naiveté.”

“Dad, we don’t know exactly what the reason is for this.” Inwardly, however, Kal had to admit that his father was probably right. Someone had targeted the house of El. But for what reason?

“I can imagine well enough,” Jor-El said regretfully.

“Ransom.” It was not a question.

Jor-El nodded. “Most likely.”

“Then we have time,” Ruce said, trying to be helpful.

“He’s right,” Kal said, nodding. “If it’s ransom they’re after, they won’t dare to hurt them…whoever they are.”

Bilan approached the Supreme Lord and the prince. The band members followed him in a tightly packed group, some of them still clutching their instruments, as though the various guitars, drumsticks, electric violins, and other items were a part of their own bodies. The Chief of Security waved over his lords to the side, away from the scene of the attack. As Kal, Ruce, and the Supreme Lord moved, security took over the area, carefully beginning the process of looking for evidence. Kal shook the hands of each of the band members in turn. The thought flashed in his mind that he’d always wanted to meet them, but he had never thought that it would be in a scenario like this.

“My lords,” Caff, the lead guitarist, said, his voice infused with sadness. He bowed deeply to them. “I am terribly sorry for what happened here tonight. We will do anything we can to help.”

“Thank you,” Jor-El and Kal both said as one.

“Did you see anything?” Kal asked pleadingly.

Caff shook his head. “Not much. The lights are somewhat blinding up on stage. But when we noted the change in the crowd’s mood, I saw about a dozen or so men dressed all in black far in the back. They were running, carrying bodies between them. I called out, but I’m afraid that even with the microphones, my voice got lost in the uproar.”

Kal nodded. It had been impossible to hear anything above the panicked roar of the crowd.

“Which way did they go?” the stoic Chief of Security prompted. His voice held a note of deep impatience.

Caff pointed. “Straight out of the park. They were moving as fast as they could, I think. It was hard to tell from so far away. And then the crowd erupted into a panicked flight and I lost sight of them. But they definitely were heading out towards the streets when I last saw them.”

“They could have gone anywhere with a vehicle,” Kal sighed. “There’s no way of knowing.”

Since all of the vehicles on the planet had switched to hovercraft technology over two centuries prior, there would be no tracks to follow. There would be no impressions in the snow to distinguish any one vehicle from another. Kal’s heart sank as his thoughts broadened.

Not even a boot print would be recoverable to help in identifying the culprits. The entire area was trampled into an indistinguishable mess. Kal’s head drooped to his chest for a few seconds. He steeled himself, then looked back up at his favorite band. Using sheer willpower, he kept his voice even, pushing aside the tears that threatened to manifest in his speech.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been most helpful.”

“Is…is there anything that the gang and I can do? Anything else at all?” Caff looked as heartbroken as Kal felt.

Jor-El shook his head thoughtfully. “At the moment, no.”

“We can get the word spread around,” Caff said with a shrug. “See if anyone else has any information that they can come forward with. Although, you undoubtedly have better resources then we do.”

Jor-El thought for a long moment before replying. “Not just yet,” he finally said. “I need time to think. But I’m most grateful for the offer. And I may yet take you up on it.”

“We’re here for you if you change your mind, my lord,” Caff said, nodding. By some unspoken agreement, it seemed that he was the spokesman for the group, just as he always was when the band performed. “Please, let us know if there is anything further that we can do.”

“We’ll keep it in mind,” Kal promised, forcing a smile onto his lips. “Thank you again.”

“Our pleasure, my lord,” the guitarist assured him.

The group turned and took their leave. Kal stood rooted in place, completely numb. He no longer felt the cruel bite of the wind. He no longer felt the stiffness in his freezing fingers and toes. He no longer even saw his surroundings. He knew only the shattering of his fragile heart as it lay torn and bleeding within his chest. His shoulders slumped in despair. He tried to force his mind to work, but it was as if it had frozen solid.

“Kal?” his father asked. The worried tone suggested that the Supreme Lord had called his name more than a few times already.

“Huh? What?” Kal said as he broke from the daze that had crept over him.

“I said let’s reconvene at the palace,” Jor-El said gently. “There’s no more that we can do here.”

Kal shook his head. “No.”

“Kal…”

“I want to stay. I want to help Bil and the others look for clues.”

Jor-El frowned. “I can’t allow that.”

“But…”

“Kal, no. We don’t know who else might still be in the area looking to snatch you away as well. I won’t risk it. I can’t.” His voice was desperate, terrified.

“I’ll be fine,” the prince began to protest. “There’s a ton of security guards here.”

“No.” The Supreme Lord’s tone brooked no argument. Then, after a few seconds, he softened. “Let Bil and his team work. They are the best. I’m sure they will find something.” There was confidence in the Supreme Lord’s voice, but his haunted features belied the feigned poise.

Kal knew his father well enough. Arguing would be a fruitless venture. Nothing would change his father’s mind. He hated when Jor-El so stubbornly made up his mind.

“Ruce?” Kal asked, looking towards his old friend for help.

The man nodded, knowing the unvoiced question immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks.” Kal shot a pleading look at his father.

“All right,” Jor-El relented. “Come on.”

“I’ll report back as soon as I have more information,” Bilan swore.

Jor-El nodded his assent. Then, trailed by Kal and Ruce, he left the area. As they retreated, Kal threw a forlorn look over his shoulder. Bilan’s team was diligently combing the area, looking for the slightest clue. Many were on their knees, attempting to make some sort of sense out of the trampled mess of snow. Kal trusted them completely. And yet, he would have given anything to be with them, helping. He felt utterly useless, knowing that he was headed back to the palace to await further word. He knew that the waiting would be one of the hardest things that he would ever have to do.

An hour later, Kal found himself back in the palace. He was in his father’s private study, pacing before the large windows. A nervous energy gripped him, though he felt bone-weary in every way. He could not force himself to sit still. He was a caged animal, a stalking wildcat, though no bars imprisoned him. On some primal level, he felt as though sitting down would somehow bring him further and further away from finding his family’s abductors. He knew the idea was ludicrous, and yet, he could not shake it. He looked towards his father and lines of concern creased his brow.

Jor-El was standing before the rightmost window. His right shoulder was pressed into the window’s frame as he leaned against it and gazed out into the black night beyond. The twin moons had long since set. But stars twinkled overhead, a multitude of distant diamonds set into the heavens. Kal had always sought comfort in the familiar sight. Now, they seemed cold and unfeeling, oblivious to the pain in his heart. Jor-El held a cup of tea in his hand as he absently stared out into nothingness. The drink had long since gone cold, but he clutched the mug as though it were his only lifeline. His finger tapped incessantly against the side of the black mug. It was the only move that the Supreme Lord made. The rest of him was alarmingly still, as though he were nothing more than a disturbingly lifelike sculpture.

To the side, Ruce sat slumped in an oversized armchair. The red crushed velvet seemed to swallow up even his muscular form. His eyes were riveted to the deep red carpet on the floor. His right hand stroked and rubbed his chin without pause. He looked every bit as haggard as Jor-El did. He looked every bit as terrified as Kal felt.

No one spoke. It was as though they had all gone both deaf and mute. The very air in the room seemed somehow heavy and oppressive. Kal felt as though it was a physical weight against his body. And though the room was more than spacious, he could not help but to feel claustrophobic. That set his pacing to an even greater urgency. At every pass of the wall clock, he glanced over to check the time. All the while, he had to bite back the terrified tears that had taken up residence in his eyes. Every once in a while, he would nearly lose the battle. His vision would become obscured as he tried to see through a prism of unshed tears, and he’d have to wipe them away with a trembling hand.

Two hours later, there was a soft knock on the door. But within the study, it was so dead quiet that the knock sounded as loud as gunfire. All three men in the room started at the unexpected noise; so accustomed they had become to the uneasy silence. Each rap of knuckles against wood brought simultaneous hope and dread to Kal’s destroyed heart. He stopped his pacing in mid-step. He glanced over at his father again. The Supreme Lord had the same dueling emotions of hope and fear written on his face. He stared at the door, but did not move. He looked incapable of speech. Kal dutifully moved to the door and opened it.

A disheveled and exhausted looking Bilan Hend’son entered the room along with Par Whyt, the Public Relations Manager for the palace.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lords,” the Chief of Security apologized. His gaze did not meet theirs. “I know it is late.”

Kal’s heart bled anew. This was not good news, he instinctively knew.

“Nonsense,” Jor-El said, his voice thick with dread and exhaustion. “What have you found?”

“Nothing yet, my lord,” the man said, his voice slightly quivering with his unease.

“Nothing?” the Supreme Lord repeated, as though unable to comprehend the word.

Bil shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s no trace left behind. At least, none that we’ve been able to uncover yet. It may be that we might have better luck once the sun is up. My men have their orders. We’ve cordoned off the entire area so that no one can enter and tamper with the scene. I’ve posted guards to ensure that no one comes near to the place, as unlikely as that prospect is. We’ll start fresh at first light, if it pleases you.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

Bil hesitated for a moment. He looked ready to say something else, but it was clear that he was biting his tongue.

“Yes? What else is there?” Jor-El asked with a sigh. He looked nearly ready to collapse.

Bil and Par shared a brief glance. But, though the look lasted only a second, an entire conversation took place within it.

“My lord, I know that it is late. I know that you must be exhausted. But we must give thought to how we are going to handle this,” Par said gently. “The public will demand an explanation for what happened during the festival.”

“We need an official story,” Kal said, understanding immediately.

His tongue felt leaden as he spoke the words. He slumped into a second overstuffed armchair, across from Ruce. He felt completely drained, now that Bil had admitted to finding no evidence of who had stolen the prince’s loved ones. His stomach twisted into knots and he fought down the taste of bile in the back of his throat.

Jor-El took a seat on the black leather couch in the room. He motioned for Bilan and Par to do the same. The two men did as they were bid. They both wore looks of apprehension on their faces, though the Supreme Lord had never once done anything to cause them to fear him. But, Kal knew, never before had the two men been in such an extraordinary circumstance.

Jor-El seemed to be weighing his words, and everyone waited for what he would say. “I’m torn,” he finally said.

“Torn, my lord?” Par asked.

Jor-El nodded. “We need to tell people the truth of what happened. I’m just torn on how much we should actually say.”

“Dad?” Kal asked. “Shouldn’t we admit the whole truth?”

“I’m not sure that is the wisest course of action,” his father replied thoughtfully. “We will let the people know there was an attack during the Winter’s Deep festival. Word about that will have spread by now, regardless. We will give them the details on what happened - that it took place as the music began, that gas canisters were thrown into the crowd, and that black-suited and masked suspects were seen at the time of the attack.”

“And what about the fact that they abducted your children?” Ruce asked gently.

The Supreme Lord sighed wearily. “I’m not sure if it is wise to let the planet know about that.”

“What?” Kal demanded, aghast. “How could it possibly be a bad thing? Maybe someone saw something. Maybe someone knows what happened. Shouldn’t we be spreading the word and encouraging people to step forward with any information that they have?”

“Yes,” Jor-El admitted. “But there are risks to that. What if we get inundated with false leads? We’d be wasting precious time.”

“That’s better than sitting here spinning our wheels fruitlessly,” Kal argued. “Right now, we have zero leads.”

“What if we cause the kidnappers to get spooked?” Jor-El said softly, his eyes dropping to his lap.

“What do you mean?” Kal asked.

“I mean, what if asking the public for information scares the people that have Ching, Zara, Jai, and Lois? What will they do? Will they panic and hurt…or kill…them? I’m not willing to take that chance.”

“What if they do that anyway, Dad? Are you willing to risk their lives?”

“Of course not.” Jor-El sighed again. His hand raked through his salt and pepper hair, in a perfect mirror to his son’s habit.

“Both are risky paths, my lord,” Bil said gently. “But we must decide on a course soon. We should get the information out to the public in time for the morning’s news reports.”

“What course would you take, if it was your child’s life on the line?” the Supreme Lord asked, looking and sounding as vulnerable as a child himself.

Bil sighed and thought carefully. “I think…I think that I would put the information out there. But I would word it carefully. I wouldn’t use the word abducted…at least, not yet. Whoever has your children must want something from you. Let us be patient and see what it is that they want. Sooner or later, they will seek us out. I’m sure of that.”

“I won’t just sit here and wait to have demands made of me,” Jor-El argued. “Too much is at stake.”

“It may be our only choice,” Bilan said sympathetically. “We may not find any clues at the scene of the attack, even with daylight on our side.”

“So what would you say then?” Kal asked, growing impatient.

Bilan looked towards Par. The Public Relations Manager squirmed uneasily in his seat.

“Well,” Par said after a moment. “We could say that the young lords and ladies went missing in the attack. I think Bil’s right in reserving the word abducted until we know more. We could ask the public to keep an eye out and to report anything that they might have seen to us.”

“The military will help,” Kal swore, his mind racing. “I’ll talk to a few of my buddies to make up a plan to search for them. Send them the gas canisters. I’m sure someone must know something about them.”

“Yes,” Jor-El said, looking determined once more. “Tell them they have my permission to tear apart the entire planet if they need to. So long as they find my children.”

“We can’t use them all,” Ruce said thoughtfully. “We can’t leave the palace undefended. What if this abduction is part of some greater plan?”

“You think it’s a diversion?” Kal asked, the thought taking him off-guard.

Ruce shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s possible.”

“Good point. I’ll have the First through Fifth Legions put on protection detail.”

Jor-El nodded his approval. “Exactly what I would suggest,” he said. “Par, I want the information posted in every public place and delivered to every private home by dawn. Can you do it?”

Par nodded determinedly. “It’ll be a close one, but my staff can do it.”

“Good. Let’s get started,” the Supreme Lord said.

“I won’t fail you, my lord,” Par swore, taking his leave.

“My lords, you’ve been through a lot tonight,” Bil said, his usually stoic voice thick with pain for the Supreme Lord and prince. “Let me contact the military leaders for you. You have enough on your minds.”

“I’d appreciate that, my friend,” Jor-El said.

“We’ll find them,” the Chief of Security vowed.

“I hope so,” Jor-El replied, his gaze shifting to the windows, out into the darkness beyond the glass. “I can’t lose them.”

Bil stood and silently made his way out of the room. Ruce also stood. He crossed to Kal’s side and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. With a gentle squeeze, he tried to reassure the prince. Kal looked up at him, his brown eyes glossy behind a sheen of unshed tears. And yet, despite his pain, there was genuine gratitude held within those soft brown orbs.

“Kal, if there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to call me. Day or night, I’ll be there for you. Even if it’s in the middle of the night and you just need a friendly ear. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Kal said, managing a weak smile for his friend. “And thanks.”

“Anytime,” Ruce assured him.

With that, the young noble exited the room, leaving Kal and his father alone. Kal ran his hand through his hair and sighed in despair. The silence in the room was oppressive, making Kal more uncomfortable. Part of him wished that Ruce had stayed. And yet, the greater part of him was grateful to be alone with his father. He’d tried so hard to keep his tears in. Now, perhaps, he would finally have the opportunity to shed some of them in private.

The Supreme Lord stood from his seat and paced to the window. As he had before, he leaned into the window frame, looking out at the sleeping planet that he ruled over. Kal watched in silence, looking for something to say. But every time he tried to open his mouth, a lump formed in his throat, rendering him speechless.

“Kal,” Jor-El said, his voice sounding years older than he truly was.

The prince was instantly on his feet and at his father’s side.

“We’ll find them,” Kal said, echoing Bilan’s promise.

“My son. Oh, my son,” Jor-El said, hugging Kal close. “I’m so glad that at least you are safe. My heart couldn’t bear it if you had been taken too.”

“I’m here,” Kal said, holding his father close and rubbing soothing circles on the older man’s back. “I’m here. I’m safe.”

“I’m terrified for your brothers,” Jor-El said. Kal felt the first of his father’s tears splash onto his neck as they fell. “And for Zara and Lois. I’ve failed them.”

“No,” Kal said, a hitch in his voice. Only once before had he ever seen his father shed tears, when Lara, his one great love, had passed away. It unnerved Kal to see the strong, gentle ruler of Krypton reduced to a sobbing, heartbroken man. “You haven’t failed them.”

“I have,” Jor-El said, clutching his son still. “I should have done…something. Anything to prevent this from happening.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Kal said gently. “None of us did.”

He knew that Jor-El had a tendency to blame himself for things, even when they were not his fault. He knew also that until Ching, Zara, Jai, and Lois were found, his father would obsess over what he saw as some failure on his part. As though he should have been able to see into the future to prevent this tragedy from happening. As though he were some sort of superhero that should have been able to swoop in and save the day.

With a sudden start, Kal knew this to be true of himself as well.

He felt as though he should have been there. He felt that he never should have left Lois’ side. He’d failed to keep his wife safe. He’d failed to protect his brothers. He’d failed to defend Zara. Shame burned Kal’s heart. Logically, he knew that he should believe the very things that he was telling his father. Logically, he knew that there was probably nothing he could have done to alter the outcome of events. Being with the others would have only gotten him captured as well. It was a struggle to remind himself that his freedom now gave him the ability to find out who had taken his loved ones. And when he did find where they were, he would rescue them. He would make sure that the guilty parties paid for their crimes.

But for now, he had to be a rock for his father. He had to be a pillar of strength for the Supreme Lord to lean on. He was the only one that Jor-El had now.

“What if we don’t find them?” Jor-El said, unashamedly airing his fears. “What if something happens to them?”

“We’ll find them,” Kal said again. “We’ve got to.”

His voice broke as his own tears finally began to fall. For a long time, they both stayed as they were. They clung to one another, each the other’s only lifeline to the world. Both men let their tears flow, unchecked. Neither one spoke another word. They didn’t have to. They didn’t have the strength to.

It was just before dawn when Kal finally collapsed into the armchair in the study and fell into a troubled sleep.

Kal awoke screaming. His eyes snapped open of their own volition even as his lungs emptied the last bit of air they carried. After a long moment, his scream trailed off into nothingness and died. Gulping for air, Kal looked around the room, for the moment disoriented. It took him a full half a minute to realize that he was in his father’s study. He allowed himself to close his eyes again, trying to calm himself. He was covered in sweat and his broken heart was pounding so violently that it was fairly smashing itself against his ribcage.

A few minutes later, his breathing finally evened out, his chest no longer heaving with the effort to suck in enough air. His pulse slowly began to go back to normal. But the ache in his heart only grew.

He’d hoped beyond hope that his dreams had been just that; figments of his overactive imagination. He’d hoped to find himself within his own chambers. He’d hoped to find himself entwined in his wife’s embrace. But now that he was awake, he knew that his nightmares had been undeniable truths. He was not in his own chambers. He was in the chair in his father’s study; the same one that he had finally passed out in late the previous night. He wasn’t in Lois’ arms. The embrace that wrapped his body was only from a throw blanket that he’d somehow become entangled in as he’d slept. And Lois was still missing.

Kal groggily disentangled himself from the blanket that cocooned his body. Glancing around, he found himself alone in the room. There was no trace of his father, or anyone else, for that matter. For that, he was glad. No one had witnessed his scream. His body was sore and his neck was stiff from falling asleep while sitting upright. But it was the pain in his heart that bothered him the most. It was unbearable. A lump formed in his throat, and he tried valiantly to swallow around it.

The door to the study opened, taking Kal by surprise. He jumped a little at the nearly inaudible sound, then turned to it to find himself looking at his father. Jor-El looked worse than he had the night before. Kal wondered if the man had slept at all. But the Supreme Lord’s head was held as high as he could manage, though he looked hollowly at his son.

“Dad?” Kal asked. “Are you all right?”

Jor-El sat on the couch and Kal sank back onto his chair.

“No,” Jor-El confessed.

“Did you at least sleep at all?”

The Supreme Lord nodded, a shallow bobbing of his head. “A little and not at all well, I’m afraid.”

“Me too,” Kal admitted. “My dreams…” he let his voice trail off.

“Mine too,” his father agreed, understanding what had been left unsaid.

“Any news?” Kal pleaded.

A shadow crossed Jor-El’s face, darkening his drawn features even further. Pain and fear danced in his eyes.

“Nothing yet,” he finally said. “I was just speaking with Bilan. He’s had a fresh team out working since dawn.”

Kal leaned his head back against the chair and let out a quavering breath before speaking. “What about leads?”

Jor-El shook his head, ever so slightly. Kal nearly missed the movement altogether.

“Not yet. But Bil assures me that it is still early. Most people aren’t even awake yet.” Jor-El sounded completely unconvinced.

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Kal pressed, fisting his hand and hitting the chair’s arm in frustration.

“Par has suggested that we make a live statement over the video screens this morning. I was coming to let you know that I agree. We’re shooting it in two hours.”

Two hours. It might as well have been a lifetime to Kal.

And yet…

It afforded him some time. Time that he needed. Time to make himself look presentable. Time to compose himself. Time to figure out what he might say, if he could force down the bile that lay ready in the back of his throat, waiting for the chance to come rushing to the surface.

“Good,” was all he managed to say.

“Go,” Jor-El said gently. “Go prepare yourself. I need to do the same.”

“You’ll be okay?” Kal asked, concerned.

“I’ll be fine,” his father replied, though his voice was thick and tired, and not at all convincing.

Kal nodded and stood regardless. He knew, just by looking at the man’’s face, that Jor-El wanted a moment alone. Unable to say another word, Kal left the study. Stepping out into the hallway, he made his somber way to his chambers. He felt incredibly alone, as though he were somehow shut off from the rest of the planet. His head hung to his chest as he walked; he was barely aware of anything more complicated than the marble floor beneath his feet.

Reaching his chambers, he took a moment to steady himself. Then he opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Fasa greeted him instantly, meowing and weaving himself around Kal’s legs. But the prince couldn’t even manage a false smile for the cat. The tabby sensed the shift in his master’s usual mood and cried up at him again, as though in an attempt to alleviate some of Kal’s hurt, or perhaps asking how he could help. Kal finally squatted down to pet the animal, and Fasa nuzzled against him. But Kal took no joy from it.

He was all too aware of how empty and lifeless the chambers were. In the months since he and Lois had fallen in love, the sounds of her voice and her laughter had nearly always filled the rooms with warmth and comfort. Her gift of gab had never ceased to brighten Kal’s world. Even in those early days, when they had so often been at odds, the rooms had been filled with life somehow. Now, without Lois, the place seemed cold and dead. In an instant, the familiar series of rooms was no longer Kal’s home. Kal felt incredibly bereft and his heart ached with renewed agony.

Knowing that there was nothing else he could do, the prince moved to the bedroom. He stripped out of clothing that he’d been wearing the night before, and shoved it down the laundry chute as though it burned his hands to touch the fabric. He set aside the star necklace, which had resided in his shirt pocket, against his heart, and made a silent vow that he would find Lois and return it to her. Then he headed into the shower. Methodically, he washed and dried himself. Wrapping a soft, white towel around his hips, he stared into the mirror. He barely recognized the face that stared back at him from within its depths. His cheeks and chin were dark with a layer of stubble. But it was his own eyes that Kal didn’t recognize; they actually scared him.

His soft chocolate eyes were bloodshot and lifeless. It was partly due to the fact that he’d only slept about three or four hours, he knew that. But he also knew that the greater reason was his absolute terror for his missing loved ones. Beneath his reddened eyes, large, dark bags lay, making him look haggard. Tight lines of worry had been carved into his features. It was as if he’d turned into one of those undead zombies that ambled about on screen in some of the horror movies he’d sometimes watched with Jai. He certainly felt the part; more dead than alive.

With a sigh, he carefully began to shave the stubble from his face. But his mind wandered as he worked at his task. Were his brothers safe? Were Zara and Lois safe? Who had taken them? Why? Was it truly some pathetic attempt at ransom, as his father seemed to believe? When would they know for sure? What would the demands be? How much longer would it be before Bilan found a lead? Would he even be able to find one? What if his loved ones were hurt? Was Lois scared? Could she take any comfort that the others were with her? What if he never saw his loved ones again? What if he lost Lois? How could he ever hope to live without the woman he so completely loved?

A bubble of near panic grew within Kal, distracting him from what he was doing. He ran the razor over his skin again, nicking himself in the process. A bright spot of blood welled up over the broken flesh. Kal sucked in a breath at the sudden sharp sting of pain and was instantly shaken out of his tumultuous thoughts. He tended to the small cut, then finished shaving the rest of his face. When he was done, he rifled through his medicine cabinet until he found a small vial of eye-drops. He squeezed two drops in each of his eyes, then squinted against the cleansing burn the drops caused. When he opened his eyes and blinked several times to clear his vision, he saw that the drops had been largely successful in eliminating the redness they had held just moments before.

With a sigh, he left the bathroom and ducked back into the bedroom. He carefully selected his clothing, mindful of the fact that he and his father would soon be making a public statement. He finally settled on dull gray pants and a matching shirt. It fit his mood without being overly mournful. He would not -could not - envision his brothers, sister-in-law, and wife as anything but alive.

As he was tying a tie about his neck, there was a soft knock on his door. He strode to the main door to his chambers and opened it. Jak stood in the hallway, his grief over the situation unashamedly written on his face for all to see. He bore a tray in his hands; Kal could see the food piled high on it.

“My lord,” Jak said, his voice rough with his own sadness. “My sincerest condolences to you. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

“Thanks, Jak,” Kal said with a weary sigh. “Come in, please.”

“Is there anything that I can do for you, my lord?”

Kal shook his head. “Not at the moment.” He ushered the man into the living room and nodded at the tray that Jak held. “Did my father send you to ensure that I eat?”

Jak nodded, embarrassed. “He’s worried about you.”

Kal sighed. “Is anyone making sure that he’s eating?”

“When I left him, he was sharing a bite to eat with Bilan Hend’son.”

“Good.” Kal stood in place, looking lost. At last, he strode over to the kitchenette. “Care for a cup of coffee?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Please, my lord,” Jak said graciously.

It wasn’t the first time that he had accepted a drink from his prince. Despite their vastly different stations in life, the two were fairly good friends.

Kal came back into the living room a moment later, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. He handed one mug to Jak, then settled down onto the couch next to him. But he found no words to say. Jak seemed to understand, and he focused his attention on the glass coffee table before him, as though it held the secrets of the universe within it.

“Eat something,” Kal said after a long moment. “Please.”

“My lord, you need to eat as well,” the man gently returned. “You have to keep your strength up.”

“I’m not hungry,” Kal said, shaking his head.

Jak gave him a sympathetic look. “My apologies, my lord, but I have orders to ensure that you eat something.”

Kal sighed resignedly. After a few minutes of indecision, he finally reached for a warm, flaky pastry. He tore it absently with his fingers, shredding it down to small pieces which he could easily pop into his mouth. The food turned to ash on his tongue, despite the sugary sweetness it held. It was an effort to swallow. He found himself taking large sips of coffee to wash the sticky treat down his constricted throat. His stomach protested every bite, threatening to send the food back up his gullet and out of his body once more. It was a battle to force the food to stay down, while his stomach twisted into cold knots of fear for Lois, his brothers, and Zara.

Once he and Jak finished their breakfast, they parted ways. As always, Jak had his phone with him, standing by, ready to carry out his prince’s every request. Now more than ever, he knew that Kal needed his aid.

Kal strode back through the palace, the stark white halls cold and unwelcoming. The festive decorations adorning the palace made a mockery of his dismal mood. For the first time in his life, Kal loathed the cheerful lights and elegant snowflakes. He tried not to think about them as he made his way back to his father’s chambers.

The rest of the morning passed in slow motion for Kal. And yet, when he tried to think on what had taken place, it all seemed a blur, each moment indistinguishable from the next. He had an overwhelming sense of vertigo and he could not seem to remember any details, even as the events unfurled before him.

He and his father broadcasted a message across the whole of Krypton, once again giving the details of the attack and stressing that the young royals had gone missing. Jor-El pleaded for information - any information - about where his children were. But what words were used, Kal couldn’t say. They barely registered in his racing mind as he stood there, rendered mute by the lump that stuck fast in his throat. It was all Kal could do to keep a concerned, yet stoic, mask affixed to his face. It simply would not do to show his absolute desperation.

After the cameras clicked off, Kal finally allowed his mask to crumble into nothingness. Once again, he felt his muscles tighten in worry while others seemed to relax into numbness. He sat heavily on his father’s couch, even as his hand flew up to rake through his raven hair. Across from him, Bilan Hend’son and Par Whyt stood.

“That was well spoken, my lord,” Par said approvingly.

“And that will replay how often?” Jor-El asked, nodding his thanks.

“Every hour.”

“Good. What is our next move, Bil?”

“We wait,” the Chief of Security said, his voice weary.

Kal wondered if the man had had any rest since the attack had been launched. He looked tired enough to drop right in his tracks. Kal felt a twinge of remorse for the man’s exhaustion.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Jor-El complained, getting up from his seat and starting to pace.

“I know it’s difficult, my lord,” Bil said, his normally detached demeanor melting away to warm compassion. “But we have no choice now. My hope is to have some information on the gas canisters soon, at the very least.”

It was an effort for Jor-El to acknowledge that Bil spoke the truth. Kal could tell by the way that the muscle in his father’s jaw ticked. But, after a moment, the Supreme Lord nodded again, and his shoulders slumped in a defeated manner.

Kal couldn’t blame his father. He felt the same way. He would have done anything - given anything - to be doing something proactive. Instead, he was reduced to aimless pacing whenever he grew weary of sitting. His fists constantly balled and relaxed again. The muscle in his jaw ticked, a prefect mirror of his father’s. His hand raked constantly through his hair. Tears of sadness and frustration constantly pricked at his eyes; Kal felt that most of his energy was spent keeping them from spilling down his cheeks.

Time dragged by slowly. Every heartbeat took a year to complete. Every minute was a lifetime. Every hour, an eternity.

A knock sounded on the door of the study. Kal’s heart leapt to his throat, lodging up against the lump that had yet to dissipate. The sensation nearly choked Kal. With a great effort, he stilled his relentless pacing and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Bilan crossed to the door and opened it. Kal’s breath caught as the door swung open.

An extremely distraught Trey stood beyond the threshold, wringing his hands before him. He was flanked by a low-ranking security officer. Bil ushered the two men into the room.

The Elder was clearly not well. His watery eyes and red, runny nose gave that away all too well. His left hand clutched a crumpled white handkerchief.

“Trey,” Jor-El said, greeting the man politely enough. Kal did not miss the well-hidden kernel of disappointment in his father’s voice. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”

“Yes, my lord. I know.” The Chief Elder’s voice was nasally. Kal could hear the congestion that clogged the man’s chest and head. “But I may have some information on your missing children. It isn’t much. But it may help.”

The words hit Jor-El and Kal both like a physical blow. This was it. The first possible lead they had on where their loved ones had vanished to. Father and son both staggered to chairs and sat down shakily. At a nod of encouragement, Trey took a seat as well.

“Well?” Jor-El demanded eagerly. “Out with it. Please.”

The Elder let out a mighty sneeze that he caught with the handkerchief he had with him. “Excuse me,” he apologized.

“Please, Trey, tell me that you know something,” Jor-El pleaded.

Trey sighed, a heavy, congested sound. “Only this. And I don’t even know if it means anything. But, I was thinking about the events that occurred yesterday. And well, it seems to me that whoever abducted my lords and ladies had to have known exactly what the sequence of the festival events was going to be. But we change that every year, to keep the celebration fresh and exciting.”

Bil rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And very few people know what the exact order of the events are.”

“Right.” Trey nodded. A fit of coughing seized him and he struggled to catch his breath. “I was in charge of setting the event up this year. But with this virus that I’ve caught, I wasn’t able to oversee it.”

Understanding flooded Kal and a tiny spark of hope ignited deep within his soul. “Who did you tell, Trey?”

The Elder took a deep breath and almost sighed out his next words. “Jen Mai. I entrusted the event to Jen Mai.”

Kal’s attention snapped to Bil and the security officer who had escorted Trey to the Supreme Lord’s chambers. “Where is Jen Mai now? I want him brought here now.”

The officer shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to another. Kal noted the man’s unease and hesitation.

“What is it?” he asked, dread creeping back into his voice once more.

“Begging your pardon, my lords, but…” the man stopped and cleared his throat. “Jen Mai has gone missing. We looked for him as soon as Trey told us his tale. No one remembers seeing him after the attack happened last night.”

“Missing? Missing?” Jor-El roared, though Kal knew that his father wasn’t blaming anyone. He was distressed over the situation. “Find him. Bring him to me. I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen. Just make sure that it does.”

The officer bowed deeply. “As you command, my lord.” He made an abrupt turn on his heel and hurried to carry out his orders.

Jor-El closed his eyes briefly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep, controlled breath.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he said after a moment, looking in the direction that the low-ranking security officer had fled. He sighed heavily. “Bil, have the military look for Jen Mai as well. We need him found so we can question him.”

Bil nodded, pulled out his phone, and spoke rapidly into it. Kal didn’t hear a word of what was said. His mind was a thousand miles away. Jen Mai. Kal might have known. He felt that he should have known. The Elder had always unnerved the prince. There was just something about him that Kal had never fully trusted. But because he’d never been able to put his finger on it, he’d never been sure if he’d been imagining things. And now, his family was paying the price for his silence.

But what did Jen Mai want? Kal couldn’t quite figure out what the man’s motives could possibly have been. As one of the Elders, the man had a sacred duty to protect the royal family and the planet. To do anything else was treasonous, and punishable by death. It would take courage to turn his back on those duties. Courage that Kal had never seen the man exhibit before in his life. Jen Mai rarely did anything unless he was sure that he had the backing of someone else.

Kal frowned as the thought struck him. Jen Mai wasn’t working alone. He was working with someone else. Or, he thought as his frown deepened, he was working for someone else. Someone that he trusted. Someone powerful. Someone that Jen Mai fully expected to come out on top of this situation.

But who that was, Kal couldn’t begin to guess. The Elder was a well-connected man. He knew every noble man and woman on the planet. Even narrowing down the list to Jen Mai’s closest companions wouldn’t be of much use. That list was almost as large as the entire population of nobles living on Krypton. Several of Jen Mai’s friends weren’t even Kryptonian; he’d secured close working relationships with many of the alien races Krypton was allied with.

“Bil,” Kal said suddenly, before he’d even realized that he was speaking.

“My lord?”

“I need you to ground every ship on Krypton. I want this whole planet on lock-down mode. No one leaves. No one enters. No shipments of trade goods, no transports full of people. Nothing leaves the ground. Nothing lands. I want only our military aircraft in the sky.”

“We keep Jen Mai on this planet,” the Chief of Security said, nodding.

“Check with the military,” Jor-El said, picking up where his son left off. “Find out every ship that has left this planet. It should not be many, with the holiday grounding most flights to begin with.”

“Consider it done,” Bil said. “Passenger lists. Destinations. If Jen Mai fled this planet, we’ll know the when and where. And we’ll dispatch our own men to bring him back.”

Another knock sounded at the door. Kal didn’t dare to hope that someone had already stumbled across Jen Mai. He wasn’t naive. He waved down Bil as the man stared to rise. Instead, Kal went to the door himself. He opened it to find Jak behind the door.

“Jak?” Kal asked. “What’s going on?”

The younger man was pale. It was clear that he was in shock. A crumpled piece of paper was clutched in his hand. He held it out to his prince, his hand trembling violently.

“My lords,” Jak finally said, his voice gone hollow. “You’d better see this. I found this affixed to the front gate. The security cameras didn’t pick up anyone, according to one of the guards I spoke with. They went offline for the span of a minute. Short-circuited. By the time the guards went out to see what had happened, there was no one around. I just happened to be walking with my friend, Dani, when we came across the note.”

Kal took the paper from Jak’s tight grasp and unfolded it. He read the words swiftly. There wasn’t much to read. There was no elegance to the words, but they were the most powerful that Kal had ever read, and they sent him crashing to his knees.

“Kal?” Jor-El called, instantly at his son’s side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s…it’s the ransom note we’ve…been expecting.” It was an effort to choke out the words; his throat had gone bone-dry and tight as a drum.

“What do they want?” Jor-El asked, as he helped his son to his feet.

Kal couldn’t look at his father. “Everything.”

“What do you mean, everything?” Jor-El asked, gently taking the note from Kal’s hand.

“Everything,” Kal repeated. “They want us to surrender everything to them. They want us to disband the Council of Elders. And they want us to abdicate our right to the throne. If we don’t comply,” Kal swallowed hard, “they say that they will…”

“Will…?” Bilan gently prompted him.

Kal swallowed hard once again. He could barely speak the next words. “They will kill one captive per day.”

The prince barely made it back to his seat before his rubbery legs gave way beneath him once more. His mind was reeling. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew exactly why his family’s kidnappers wanted the Council disbanded. Only the Council had the authority to try the abductors with treason, once they revealed who they were. But if the Elders had no power, they could not sentence the kidnappers. There would be no official charge of treason. The traitors would escape death.

Looking at his father, Kal saw all the color drain out from the Supreme Lord’s face, leaving him stark white. Kal had seen his father in almost every mood. He’d seen Jor-El happy, sad, playful, mischievous, contemplative, indecisive, loving, confused, ill, angry, and even scared. But pure terror was something that Kal realized he’d never before seen cross his father’s features, at least, not until that very moment. His heart broke for his father.

“What do we do?” Kal quietly asked, not just to Jor-El, but to the entire room.

“The note says we have twenty-four hours to make our reply over the video screens,” Jor-El said. “Until then, we utilize every possible second.”

“I agree,” Kal said. “But…what if…?” He couldn’t bear to voice the rest of his question.

“We’ll do what we need to,” Jor-El said. “If stepping down is what we have to do, we’ll do it. I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave the people of Krypton in the hands of some monster. But I don’t see another choice. I will not knowingly condemn my children to death.”

Kal shook his head. “Normally, I’d agree. But I don’t trust this. What’s to stop whoever has Ching and the others from killing them after we abdicate?”

“We can try to work out some exchange,” Bil offered.

My lord,” Trey stammered, his mouth working overtime, though barely any sounds issued forth. “You can’t be serious!”

“Serious?” Jor-El said, reacting as though the word held some unknown meaning.

Trey blushed deeply. Clearly, he’d said the words before he realized he’d been speaking. “You cannot abdicate the throne. You cannot give in to these demands.”

“The lives of my children are at stake here, Trey,” the Supreme Lord argued impatiently.

“I know, my lord,” the Chief Elder replied in a placating tone. “And I cannot even begin to imagine what you are going through. But, clearly, whoever took them is insane. Are you so willing to hand over the rule of the entire planet to a lunatic? At the risk of sounding indelicate, my lord, you still have Kal. You still have an heir to the throne.”

Jor-El sighed deeply, seeming to age right before Kal’s waking eyes. “I know,” he said, his voice only the barest whisper. “I know. I know that the planet should be my first priority. I know that I can’t just hand over my power to a madman. But…how do I condemn my children to death? How do I ignore that? How can I possibly live with myself, if I do nothing while they are murdered?”

“By knowing that you did the right thing,” Trey said.

Jor-El shook his head sadly. “Is it the right thing? Is it the right thing to turn away and let die the people who you are sworn to protect?”

“I don’t have the answers,” Trey admitted gently. “All we can do is hope that you will not be forced to make your decision.”

“We’ll utilize every moment to try to find your children. We’ll get them back,” Bil swore. “Until then, I’ll run this note with my guys. There has to be some clue within it that we can use to track down whoever sent it.”

“That’s Jen Mai’s handwriting,” Jor-El sighed. “That much is clear to me. But do what you must.” He handed the Chief of Security the paper. “Leave us for a while,” he added, gesturing in the same moment for Kal to stay.

Everyone filed out of the room, respecting their lord’s wishes. Only Kal remained, rooted to his chair as though he had become a part of it somehow. Jor-El said nothing. Perhaps he had no words left to him. Kal’s own tongue refused to work. He was desperate to alleviate as much of his father’s pain as he could. He just had no idea what he could do or say. He merely sat there, hoping that his presence was a comfort to his father.

Kal leaned his head against the high back of his chair. His entire body felt numb and heavy. All of his energy had bled out of his body the second he read the ransom note. The demands were ridiculous; Kal was well aware of that. And yet, he would gladly pay any price to ensure that the others were safe. He’d give his own life if he had to. But, in this situation, he had the nagging gut instinct that this was a trap. Something told him that the abductors did not mean to follow through with their end of the bargain.

Kal closed his eyes in thought, the lids feeling too weighty to keep open. And though he did not mean to, for a short time, he dozed. He dreamed a little, a series of nightmarish flashes that seared through his fear-drenched brain like jagged bolts of lightning.

He was back at the tournament. Jak handing his drei to him. Lord Nor standing opposite him, battle-ready and hungry for Kal’s blood. Dreis clashing in midair. Explosions of pain as Kal’s body suffered blows at Nor’s skilled hand. Fighting back and gaining the upper hand. Nor laid out on his back in the short green grass. Kicking Nor’s drei away. The Master of the Tournament declaring Kal the victor. Kal reaching down to help Nor to his feet. The murderous look of hatred held within Nor’s eyes. No. More than just hatred. Vengefulness.

Kal’s eyes snapped open, the tattered remnants of his nightmare clinging to the edges of his mind. He gulped in a large lungful of air, calming his racing heart. But he knew. His dreams had not been just dreams. His subconscious mind had been showing him what he had missed so many months prior.

In an instant, Kal knew, without a shred of doubt, who had plotted against his family.

***

Lois gradually came to consciousness, though patches of fuzzy blackness still clung to the edges of her mind and vision. As her mind slowly became capable of focusing, she became aware of various truths. The first thing that she knew with absolute certainty was the pain in her head. A deep, throbbing ache had settled in behind her eyes; a concert in her brain that was comprised entirely of drums. It made her a little nauseous. She had to take slow, deep, and controlled breaths in order not to vomit.

The next thing that she knew was that she was staring into the face of an ugly, greasy man. She felt like she ought to know who it was. She knew that she’d seen him before. But where? She analyzed every part of him, trying to place him. The shoulder-length blonde hair. The deep set, malevolent eyes. The sinister twist to his mouth. But her head was too fuzzy to think straight. She thought that Kal would know the man instantly, even if his head was ringing the way hers was.

Kal.

In a flash, she could see the scene in her mind. Kal was on the tournament field, facing the final opponent of the games.

Lord Nor.

That was who she was facing now.

She groaned, partly in pain. But the greater part of the groan was born from the knowledge that she was staring into the face of such a cruel, sadistic man. An involuntary shudder ran through her body as she tried to shrink away from the man’s stinking breath.

“She’s awake,” he said, speaking over his shoulder to someone Lois couldn’t quite see. He sounded oddly relieved.

“You’re lucky that she survived,” another voice growled, coldly neutral. “That was a risky amount of tranquilizer.”

“I couldn’t take any chances,” a third voice said, sighing heavily, as though he had explained it all before. “She got the same dose that the others did. It can’t be helped that she didn’t react to it in quite the same way.”

More of Lois’ vision cleared as the three men talked. She was conscious now of where she was, but she almost wished she could have remained blissfully unaware. She was in a dank stone room that was only just above freezing. She was propped up against one rough gray wall. The cold seemed to seep right through her coat and into her very bones. She tried to move away, and panicked when she realized that her entire body was paralyzed. Only her head and neck seemed capable of movement.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you with this mission,” the second man complained. “You really screwed this up, Thark.”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but how did I screw it up? She’s alive.”

“Barely,” a new voice said. “Another outburst like that, however, and I will cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs.”

Lord Nor stood up and put his back to Lois. He swiftly stepped away from her, widening her field of vision. She could see now that she was in a cell. Heavy metal bars imprisoned her in her own separate cage. Next to her, on her left, was Zara. And across the room, directly before her and Zara, were Ching and Jai respectively.

Nor stepped out of the cell and swung the door shut. The metal protested with a slight groan, the hinges in dire need of oil, though the metal was shiny and new-looking. In the next moment, the door clanged tightly shut. Lois heard the lock click as the key turned within it.

“Tell me again,” Nor said, his voice dangerously calm, “why there are only four here? Where is Kal-El?” The words hissed from his mouth as though he were a poisonous snake.

Lois watched as the young man, Thark, blanched. He was no older than her sister. Lois almost felt sorry for the kid. Almost. Perhaps she would have felt bad if she didn’t know that he had something to do with her abduction. But hope flared in her heart. If Nor was asking about Kal, it meant that he hadn’t been taken. He was still free. And she knew if that were true, he would find a way to rescue her and the others.

Thark wrung his hands together, clearly distressed. “My lord, I’m sorry. The other prince. He wasn’t there when we made our move.”

“Where was he?” Nor demanded.

Thark shook his head in a desperate plea. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but I don’t know. All I know is that we followed our orders. We waited for the music to begin. Then we made our move. He just…simply wasn’t there when we attacked.”

“Useless excuses!” Nor growled. “You had orders to bring me all of Jor-El’s children!”

“What do we do about that?” one of the other men asked Nor.

Lois could now see the two other men who were in the room with them. Nor’s brothers, Ran and Drull. She hadn’t yet had the displeasure of meeting the two, but she had seen their handiwork in the tournament, months before. They had struck her as less intelligent than their older brother, Nor, but just as brutal. It was Ran who had spoken.

Nor sighed heavily and waved dismissively at his brothers. “Kill them all.”

“B…b…but, my lord!” Thark stuttered. “It wasn’t our fault!”

Nor rolled his eyes. In the next second, he produced a knife, from where, Lois couldn’t tell. The steel flashed coldly in the overheard lights—a bright, shining silver. Nor deftly brought the edge to the man’s throat and slashed through the fragile skin. Silver steel turned to sickly crimson as Thark’s lifeblood spilled from the open gash. Nor grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, wiped the blade clean on the jet black material, then allowed the body to collapse to the floor. Thark thrashed about for a minute or two, but every frantic beat of his heart only forced more of his blood out onto the floor. His movements grew ever more feeble until at last, he expelled one final, shuddering breath. His body gave one more involuntary jerk and then lay still.

Lois would have turned away if she had been able to. But her body was still incapable of carrying out her wishes. Instead, she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that Thark’s blood wouldn’t creep into her own cell. She wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Clean this up,” Nor instructed his brothers. “And kill the others. You know what to do. I want no one left alive to turn on us. And I want no evidence.”

Lois kept her eyes shut as tightly as she could. But she couldn’t block out the sounds. She heard the other men pleading for their lives; perhaps a dozen or so different voices reached her ears. She heard the charging sound of the brothers’ energy guns. She knew the distinctive sound well enough. Her father had used smaller, similar versions of the guns in his laboratory work, though the ones that he had used had channeled the energy into thin, precise lasers. The guns emitted a beam of pure energy that was capable of causing even steel and stone alike to simply cease to exist. It would easily vaporize flesh and bone.

Dull, pulsing sounds bounced off the stone walls as each man was shot. The stone room magnified the sound, amplifying it beyond anything that Lois could have imagined. She felt the shock waves that rippled through the surrounding air as they rocked her body. She felt the reverberations thrumming in her chest.

After a long while, she finally ventured to open her eyes again. Ran and Drull were gone. There were no bodies in sight; not even Thark’s lifeless corpse lay on the floor, though the sticky puddle of dark red blood still lay congealing where it had gathered.

A terrifying numbness still cloaked Lois’ body. She could feel the cold as it bit through her coat, but none of her limbs would obey her commands. She tried to call out to the others, but she found her vocal chords to be just as unresponsive as her body. That terrified her even more. She’d always relied on her voice when all else failed.

From the looks of things, the others were in the same situation. No one moved. No one spoke. Lois closed her eyes again, unwilling to stare at the pool of Thark’s blood any longer. At least, she thought, it hadn’t made its way into her cell, though it had come close.

After a while, Lois dozed off, the effects of the tranquilizers still running through her veins. She didn’t dream. She was merely enveloped in a thick, black oblivion. When she awoke once more, she groaned as she found herself still confined to the cell. She hadn’t really expected to be anywhere else. But, she had hoped that her imprisonment had only been some sort of horrific nightmare. If it had been, she would have allowed herself to cry on Kal’s shoulder, while he held her, rubbed soothing circles on her back, and murmured calming words into her dark tresses.

There wasn’t a single thing in all the world that she wouldn’t have given to find herself safely back in her husband’s strong arms in their chambers at the palace.

Thinking about Kal brought a stab of longing to her heart. She missed him fiercely. Ever since she had fallen in love with him, he’d been her rock, her strength. He’d given her a reason to find hope and beauty in the world around her. He’d become her life, her heart, her very soul. To be apart from him had become painful, even if he was merely down the hall watching a game in Jai’s room, or hearing petitioners in the main receiving hall.

To be separated from him now tore at her heart with savage agony. She wished that she could see him, or, at the very least, hear his voice. She could have taken comfort in that. It was a struggle to remind herself that she should be grateful that he wasn’t with her.

Kal was safely out of Nor’s grasp. He was free. And he would be looking for her. He’d be searching for his brothers. He’d be trying to find Zara.

Lois knew that when Kal wanted something, he’d move the heavens and Krypton alike to achieve it. There was no doubt in her mind that he would find them. The thought was comforting, but in a distant, abstract way. She wished that he could be there now, rescuing them all from the bleak, frigid prison they were being held captive in.

An itch began to plague Lois’ nose. Without thinking, she moved to scratch it with a gloved hand. As her protected fingertips touched the cold flesh of her nose, she suddenly realized that she could move again. Her body was no longer paralyzed. A wave of relief rolled over her. Immediately, she pushed herself away from the icy cold stone wall, though she could not escape the freezing floor. Her legs still felt rubbery and her whole body trembled, though if it was more from the cold or from the drugs that still half lingered in her body, she could not tell.

“What happened?” Lois asked finally, glad that her vocal chords were also cooperating.

Zara breathed a sigh of relief. “Lois, thank Rao. We were getting worried about you.”

“Worried?” Lois repeated, confused.

Zara nodded. “Your body reacted particularly badly to whatever drugs Nor’s men used on us. The rest of us have been able to move and speak for a while now. And you wouldn’t wake up when we called to you. I even shook you a little.”

“Where did Nor and the others go?” Lois shot a fearful look around the room.

“They left us for time being,” Jai said, leaning against the bars at the front of his cell. “They said something about delivering a message.”

“What do they want?” Lois asked, crawling to the front of her own cell.

Ching shook his head. “We don’t know. Ransom, I expect.”

“Ransom?” Lois scrunched her brow. “What could they possibly want? The Uthors are the third richest noble house on the planet. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” Ching agreed. “I’ve been trying to figure it out myself.” He shook his head again. “There’s a deeper motive here. I just wish I could figure out what it is. My head’s still sort of…fuzzy from the tranquilizer. It has to be about power though. I’d bet my life on that.”

“Kal’s still free,” Lois said. “He’ll find us.” She hoped she sounded convincing.

“I hope so.” Ching’s eyes slid over to the drying blood that stained the gray stone floor. “I hope so.”

“He will,” Lois said, mustering up all of her conviction into those two words.

And yet, she still harbored a healthy amount of trepidation. Lord Nor wasn’t known as a man of patience, by any stretch of the imagination. What if he grew bored of whatever sick game he was playing? What if he killed one of them? What if he killed them all? What if Kal was too late to save them? What if Kal came looking for them and got captured himself? What if Kal got himself killed while trying to save them?

Lois knew that if Kal died, she’d never be the same person again. If he died and she somehow managed to live, life as she knew it would be over. She didn’t want to live in a world without Kal. She needed him, as much as she needed air to breathe. And if he died trying to save her, she would never forgive herself for as long as her heart continued to beat.

Tears of panic began to well in her eyes and she roughly wiped them away with the back of one gloved hand. The small beads of moisture rolled off the waterproof surface, making the dull material suddenly glossy where the wetness had been streaked. She hugged her knees to her chest, in an attempt to make herself feel more secure. It was a habit of hers ever since she was a child, huddled in her room, listening as verbal warfare raged between her mother and father. But the technique failed her now. It only made her heart ache all the greater for Kal’s solid, loving embrace.

After a time, Lois heard footsteps coming down a flight of steps that lay off to her right hand side, though she couldn’t see them from the angle of her cell. But she could hear the heavy tread of boots as they descended the metal steps. Each one sounded as loud as a crack of lightning, and made her heart thump in terror. And yet, when the owner appeared before her cell, he didn’t acknowledge her or the others. Instead, the man got on his knees and began to scrub away the dark stain of dried blood that marred the floor. Lois’ nose crinkled at the acrid smell of the various chemicals as the man worked.

The manservant did his work without pausing. He never once looked up. He never once spoke. He simply focused on the grisly task set before him. When he was finished, he packed his supplies back up into the small bucket that he carried with him, and swiftly made his way back out of the dungeon.

“Who was that?” Lois ventured to ask, once she was sure that the man was out of hearing.

“His name is Rygel,” Ching said, spitting the name out like a curse. “He’s Lux Uthor’s right hand man.”

“If Rygel’s around, you can bet that Lux has a hand in this kidnapping,” Jai added, his dark eyes flashing with rage. “I’d hoped that maybe Nor and his brothers were doing this on their own.”

“Why?”

Lois was pretty certain that she didn’t want to know the answer to that question. But she couldn’t help asking it nonetheless. Sometimes, she thought of her curiosity as some strange form of curse. She bit her lower lip as Ching sighed.

“Nor, Ran, and Drull are all muscle,” Zara said in a hushed whisper. “They’re thugs, brutes. Nor has a slippery tongue, that’s true. But Lord Uthor is smart.”

“So if he’s the one behind this…” Lois said, her thoughts whirling at a dizzying pace.

“You can be assured that whatever the plot is that he’s cooked up, it will be hard for my father to find a loophole.” Ching frowned. “He won’t make it easy for anyone to find us.”

“Kal will find us,” Lois repeated, though her heart had sunk considerably at Ching’s words.

To give herself a purpose, Lois began to test the bars that made up her cell. She tried twisting them, pushing on them, pulling at them, all in a vain attempt to find a loose one. She tried to shake the cell door, with no real hope that the lock might give way. But she was unwilling to rule out any possibility. She instructed the others to do the same, all to no avail. Finally, she curled her knees to her chest again, reluctantly giving up for the time being.

Silent tears welled up in her eyes again. She managed to hold them back only by sheer willpower. She felt utterly powerless, utterly helpless. And that frustrated her beyond words, enraged her, truth be told. In the time that she had known Kal, even before she had come to fall in love with him, she’d never had such feelings before. She had been powerless to prevent her arranged marriage, that much was true, but she had found a way to fight back, by trying to hate her new husband. When she had fought with Kal, he’d allowed her to have all the power. He’d rarely ever fought back, except to defend himself against whatever untruths she had flung at him. And from the moment that she’d made amends with him, he’d surrendered all of himself to her. He’d empowered her. He’d done everything in his ability to give her every sense of freedom and power that he could. To suddenly lose control of everything angered Lois, and soon her ire rivaled the intensity of her fear.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she never heard the footsteps coming back down the steps into the dungeon. She wasn’t even sure of how much time had passed since she wandered down the dark paths of her bleak thoughts. Instead, she was startled when Lux Uthor and his sons appeared before her cell.

Krypton’s third wealthiest man stood in the center of the room, surveying the four cages with a cold eye. He peered into each cell, appraising the occupants silently, the same way that a person might view a commonplace animal in a zoo. He nodded to himself, as if in response to some inner monologue. Then he turned to his sons.

“You stupid fools,” he said, his voice deadly calm, showing no emotion. “Four out of five isn’t good enough.”

“I know,” Nor agreed.

“It’s not our fault the men that got sent out were incompetent,” Ran argued.

Lux frowned. “Of course it is, you idiot. You chose the men for the job, didn’t you?” He sighed. “What’s done is done, I suppose. There’s not much that we can do about it now. We’ll have to make do.”

“What do we do now?” Drull asked.

“We stick to the plan,” Lux replied. “We improvise if need be.”

“But with Kal-El still free, will Jor-El bend to our demands?” Nor asked, crossing his arms before him as he leaned against one stone wall, just to the side of Ching’s cage.

Lux nodded confidently. “Oh, I think he will. That fool won’t look at it from a logical perspective. He won’t count himself lucky that he still has one trueborn son left to carry on his bloodline and right to rule. He’ll only see that he’s missing the rest of his family. He’ll want these four back as well. That will be his undoing. He will bend to our demands, and then we’ll have him. Krypton will be ours for the taking. The reign of the Els will be over.”

“And when Jor-El abdicates? What do you want us to do with these four?” Nor asked.

“Kill the men, if you wish,” Lux shrugged dismissively. “Take Zara for a concubine if you so desire. At least you know that she’ll never bear you any half-blooded mongrels.” His voice hit a note of disgust as he referenced Zara’s failure to produce a living heir to the throne of Krypton.

“Touch my wife and I will kill you,” Ching growled.

“And the other?” Drull asked, ignoring the crown prince entirely, eyeing Lois as though she were a piece of meat.

Lux looked her over. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, smacking the back of his youngest son’s head. “Once Jen Mai is set up as Chief Elder, I plan on having him annul the marriage between her and Kal-El. That is, of course, if I don’t decide to just kill the boy.”

“You mean…?” Ran asked, letting his voice trail off. He blinked stupidly at Lois.

Lux smiled evilly. “Boys, say hello to your new mother.”

Lois worked hard to stifle a shudder of revulsion. The thought of being separated from Kal and of being forced to marry Lux made her feel sick to her stomach. She flinched away as Lux bent down and took a closer look into her cell.

“I’ll never marry you!” Lois asserted defiantly. “My husband will find you. And you’d better watch out when he does.”

Lux laughed, his vile eyes dancing in amusement. “Let him come. Let him challenge me. It’ll save me the effort of having to hunt him down myself.”

“He’ll break you in half,” Lois said contemptuously.

“I think not,” Lux replied evenly. “For all of Kal-El’s physical prowess, he’s too gentle a soul to ever prevail in a real fight. He doesn’t have the guts to go for the kill.”

“You don’t know my husband very well,” Lois shot back.

She knew that she was bluffing. She knew that Lux was right. Kal was a force to be reckoned with in a fight, that much was true. But he was a gentle soul. He’d never go for the kill, even if a fight demanded it. He’d try to find a way to subdue his opponent without causing them harm. And in a fight against someone like Lux or his sons, that would be Kal’s undoing.

His gentle heart would cost him his life.

Lux wasn’t fooled by Lois’ boasting. “Ah, but I do know your lord husband. Quite well, actually. There isn’t anything he can do that I haven’t already anticipated.”

Lois spit at the man, the action seeming to happen independent of her brain. Her body simply reacted to the man. Some of it hit his right cheek. Lux wiped the spittle off his flesh with one finger. He clucked his tongue and shook his head.

“Now, now,” he said, his voice smooth and eerily calm. “You really ought to behave yourself. I don’t know what vile behavior your precious prince allows, but I will not stand for such things.”

Lois backed away from the man as he spoke, until her shoulder blades connected with the freezing, solid wall behind her. The threat in Lux’s voice was unmistakable. She had no doubts in her mind that he would not hesitate to kill her if she ever displeased him. As the knowledge sunk in, she wondered if Lux’s late wife had met a similar fate. She wondered if that was what had happened to the missing members of his household staff. Kal and the others had said that the girls had never turned up. Lois knew now, for a certainty, that Lux possessed the technology needed to make a body simply vanish into thin air.

Nor cleared his throat. “And if Jor-El does hold out?”

“We stick to the plan,” Lord Uthor said, straightening back up and stepping away from Lois’ cell. “We cannot afford any moments of weakness. We will carry through with our threats.”

“Yes,” Nor agreed, nodding his head. “But which one do we kill first?”

“That one,” Lux replied, flicking his hand casually at Jai’s cell. “The half-prince. If Jor-El is stupid enough to test me, I want you to send the boy’s head to him. Understood?”

The three young lords nodded. “Yes, Father,” they said, their voices blending into one.

“Good,” Lux said, his voice deadly calm. “Now then. I have things to attend to. Drull, I want you to keep an eye on the video screens. The second the Supreme Lord makes his statement, I want to know about it. Ran, I want you to come find me if anyone comes sniffing around. I don’t care if they are selling cookies. I want to know about it.”

The two men in question bowed, then scurried off to attend to the duties their lord father had set before them. Nor stayed behind, awaiting his orders.

“And me?” he asked, when Lux failed to speak. “What task would you have me do?”

Lux thought for a moment before speaking. “Arrange a security detail.”

“I’ll lead them myself,” Nor swore.

“No,” his father said, shaking his head. “I want you with me. We have work to do. You have one hour. Then I want you in my study.”

“As you wish,” Nor said, bowing stiffly.

The two men turned and started back up the stairs. Lois heard each footstep, each one sounding like a death knell. She let her defiant mask fall from her face as her insides turned to jelly. Doomed was the only word that came to her mind. Doomed to lose Kal if he tried to save her. Doomed to lose Kal if he didn’t, though Lois knew that would never be the case. Doomed to be forced into marrying a monster. Doomed to be killed with a careless word the second she displeased that same monster.

“Man, that was gutsy,” Jai said, giving Lois an approving, though unsteady smile. “Talking back to Lux like that, I mean.”

“Thanks,” Lois mumbled. She tried to give Jai a smile.

But the young man was pallid white. Lux wanted to kill him. He’d so casually pointed at the half-prince as the first one to kill, should his ransom demands be ignored. He’d given the decision less thought than he would which piece of fruit to eat at breakfast. Lois’ heart broke for the youngest son of Jor-El, even as she was gripped with terror for him.

“You’ll be okay,” Lois tried to reassure him. “He won’t hurt you. Your father and brother will see to that.”

Jai didn’t look reassured in the least. He still gripped the bars of his cell tightly. His whitened knuckles matched the bloodlessness of his face. His eyes were wide and staring, not seeming to really see anything.

“I swear,” he said in a small voice, more to himself than anyone else. It was, perhaps, a prayer to any benevolent force that might chance to hear him. “If I live through this, I’ll never touch another concubine again. I don’t want to die. I’m too young to die. I haven’t even lived yet. Please, don’t let me die.”

“Jai,” Ching said, carefully threading his hand through the cell bars, until he could touch his brother’s shoulder. “Snap out of it. You have to focus now. Okay? Falling apart won’t do any of us any good. All right? I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe. Okay?”

Jai finally seemed to focus on his older brother. He tremulously nodded his head. “I’ll try.”

“Good man.” Ching gave him a smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. “We need a plan.”

“Plan?” Jai repeated, as though the word was foreign. “Plan for what? We’re stuck inside cages.”

Ching sighed. “I know. But there has to be something that we can do.”

“Like what?”

The crown prince sighed again and shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But I’m working on it.”

“Ching…” Zara’s voice was pained and frightened as it cut through the freezing air of the dungeon.

Lois’ head snapped around at the sound. Zara was doubled over, clutching at her abdomen. Her face - what Lois could see if it - was drawn into a roadmap of pained lines and pinched flesh. Moans escaped her lips and tears wetted her cheeks. As Lois’ eyes swiftly assessed the other woman, they came to rest on her groin. A dark, red stain had bloomed there; blood seeped through the woman’s light colored pants as if from some horrific, open wound. Lois felt her own blood turn to ice in her veins.

“Zara?” she squeaked out, the sound entangling itself in her vocal chords, as though it feared to come out into the open. “What’s happening?”

“No,” Ching said, his voice a ghostly, hollow whisper. “No.”

“Zara?” Lois repeated. “Ching? What’s happening? I can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is.”

“There’s nothing you can do. I’m…” Zara said, her voice rough as she struggled against the severe agony that had overtaken her body. “I’m…having a…” she groaned again. “Miscarriage,” she finally uttered, through gritted teeth.

Lois’ heart stopped beating for the slightest moment as the fragile organ shattered into a thousand bloody pieces. Zara’s pain suddenly became her own, though Lois could only imagine a fraction of the other woman’s distress. Lois knew that she could not possibly understand a tenth of the emotional anguish that her sister-of-the-heart was experiencing. Sympathetic tears pricked at Lois’ eyes.

“What do I do?” she said, asking Ching and Zara both in the same breath.

The usually cheerful crown prince looked mournfully at his wife. Tears were racing down his cheeks. Lois realized, in that moment, that she’d never seen the man upset before. And now, she was looking into the face of heartbreak itself.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he said, repeating his wife’s words. “She needs a doctor. Oh Zara, I’m so sorry.”

“I…I…didn’t know that you guys…” Jai stammered.

Ching shook his head. “We didn’t tell anyone. It was too early. Only five weeks along. We wanted to be sure this baby would survive.”

Lois wished with her whole heart that she could trade cells with Ching. He needed to be near his wife. And Zara needed her husband at her side, to take whatever comfort she could from having him at hand. Lois felt strangely inadequate to be of any source of solace for the grieving couple.

“I’m so sorry,” she offered, feeling as though she was failing them somehow by offering such simple words. “Truly, I am.”

She reached her hand through the bars that separated her from Zara. The other woman took her hand, grateful for the small bit of consolation that it held. She held on tightly, as if it were her only lifeline, her only way to stay connected to the world. Lois let her, taking a small amount of comfort in the contact as well, though the very thought made her feel guilty. She felt she had no right to take any comfort from the heartbroken woman. She was supposed to be giving support, not taking it.

“Help!” Lois shouted, in an effort to attract attention to the emergency that was unfolding. “Somebody help! We need a doctor! Is anyone there?”

But the dungeon was empty, aside from the four young royals. The dull stone of the room flung her words back at her, mocking her. They echoed as they bounced off the walls; a small chorus of derisive voices. If any of the sounds penetrated the thick walls, Lois never knew. No one came to see what the ruckus was about. No one summoned any aid for the bleeding princess. No one even came to the door to tell them to be silent.

After a while, Zara’s pain seemed to lessen. Her grip on Lois’ hand loosened. She no longer moaned in agony. But she continued to hold Lois’ hand. It still remained her lifeline. Her moaning did not cease. But the sound of it changed. It was no longer born of excruciating cramps. It was the mournful, soul-chilling sound of a heart shattering, of dreams snatched cruelly away, of hope dying.

Lois could not help but to allow her tears to match those of Zara and Ching.

***

“That’s it!” Kal said, his voice taking on an excited edge as he tried to shake off the images his dreams had stirred up. “That has to be it.”

But the room around the young prince was empty. His father was nowhere in sight. He stood and stretched, wondering where the Supreme Lord was. Kal felt himself suddenly recharged, however. His depleted energy levels had been topped off while his dreams had shown him what his waking mind had been blind to. The steel-stiffness of his depressed body fell away. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, powering his limbs in a way that he’d only ever felt in a battle before.

He knew that Lord Nor had his family; knew it with absolute certainty, though he had no hard proof. And Kal was determined to get them back.

He needed a plan in order for that to happen though. And he needed help. This was one battle he knew he could not fight alone. He began to pace as thoughts surged through his racing mind. He could almost feel the rapid firing of his synapses as he tried to slow his thoughts enough to make sense of them all. Pacing didn’t seem to help any. If anything, it only seemed to fuel his brain into an even greater frenzy.

He knew that he needed to find his father. Needed to find Bilan. Needed, perhaps, even to seek out the friends that he had in Krypton’s military. But would anyone believe him?

In the next moment, Kal left his father’s study, completely focused on what he had to do. He stalked through the halls of the palace, like a wildcat searching for prey. His mind was entirely fixed on the knowledge that Nor had been the kidnapper. And, Kal knew, in all likelihood, so were Ran and Drull. The three brothers were rarely apart. What one did, the others almost always did as well.

His eyes saw nothing except Lord Nor’s murderous, vengeful eyes. His ears heard nothing except distant echoes of sound from those he passed in the halls. As if spoken through layers of heavy cotton, the words directed at him were muddled and muffled until they were no longer intelligible and no longer had the power to divert his attention. He was only dimly aware that he was no longer on the tournament field, though his mind imprisoned him back on the field on that fair fall afternoon. He nodded distractedly as he walked, some tiny part of his mind registering the servants he was passing.

He was only pulled to full attention when he came across Gen Arry, one of Bilan’s most trusted security officers. The man was on a patrol of the palace when Kal found him. He bowed when he saw the prince making a beeline for him.

“My lord,” Gen said respectfully.

“Gen,” Kal said, trying to muster up a smile for the man and knowing that he was failing miserably. “Have you seen my father?”

Gen nodded. “I saw him not ten minutes ago heading to the main receiving hall.”

“The main receiving hall?” Kal echoed, wondering aloud. “For what?”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but I don’t know.”

Kal shook his head. “Thanks, Gen. You’ve actually been a great help. I appreciate it.”

The royal prince quickened his step as he changed course, picking out the swiftest route to where his father would be. As he rushed through the palace, his mind began to work anew. What could his father want in the main hall? Had he chosen to give in to Nor’s demands?

He shook his head again. His father would never do that without having Kal at his side. And although Jor-El feared what might happen to his children if they failed to comply with the ransom demands, Kal felt sure that the Supreme Lord was resolute on allowing Bil’s team more time to try and find Ching and the others.

After what felt like a year of half-walking, half-running through the halls, Kal was finally in sight of the main hall. He reached the doors in record time, throwing them wide as he burst into the room, breathless. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. He wondered why that thought hadn’t occurred to him before.

Jor-El stood talking with a small group of people. Kal needed only a split second to identify them. Lord Ra, Zara’s esteemed father. Samm, Elle, and Luci Lyne, Lois’ family.

It made perfect sense, Kal thought to himself, as he forced his legs to propel him forward once more. Why wouldn’t the women’s loved ones be with them now? Kal had been so preoccupied with his own worries that he’d quite forgotten Zara and Lois’ families. The thought shamed him.

Still, he kept his head held high as he crossed the room. Jor-El broke off whatever he was saying to Lord Ra as soon as he heard the doors to the chamber open. He waved Kal forward. It was all that Kal could do to retain a dignified pace. He wanted to run screaming through the room that he knew who had their loved ones. But now that he had found his father, the idea seemed absurd to him; that a dream had given him the answers his waking mind hadn’t been able to figure out. And yet, as bizarre as the idea now sounded to his mind, he knew that his father would listen to every word. He knew that his father would take him seriously. He only hoped the others would as well.

Luci Lyne broke away from the loose group of nobles. She headed straight towards Kal, for in the few brief times that they had met, the two had instantly gotten along. Samm Lyne called for his youngest daughter to come back, but the girl was heedless of her father’s wishes. Kal picked up his pace to meet her, and engulfed her in his arms as soon as the distance between them had vanished. Luci was crying; tears stained her cheeks and her eyes were red and glassy. Boldly and unashamedly, she hugged the prince tightly and sobbed on his shoulder.

“Kal,” she worked out between heaving sobs, “I’m so afraid.”

“Me too,” he admitted, his voice a whisper in her ear as he held her. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure that your sister is found, safe and sound. All right?”

“Who could have done this?” she replied, sniffling.

Kal knew the question hadn’t been directed solely at him. Luci’s tone suggested that she was asking anyone and anything around them. He rubbed her back a few times, trying to impart some fraction of comfort to her.

“That’s what we’re going to find out for certain,” he vowed.

Luci pulled back and studied his face. “Thanks,” she said, giving him a trembling smile.

Kal returned the smile with a tiny one of his own, hoping the gesture would further console the girl. Then he crossed the rest of the room, Luci by his side.

“Samm. Elle. My Lord Ra,” he said, greeting each of them in turn. “We need to talk.”

“I’ve just been telling them all that we know,” Jor-El said, “little though it is.”

“Can we sit down?” Kal asked, looking around the room. “Not here. Someplace more private.”

“Is something wrong?” Jor-El asked, noting his son’s unease.

“I think I might know who the abductors are,” Kal replied in a hushed tone. “But I don’t want to speak of it in the open. We already know that Jen Mai was a traitor and a spy. I don’t know who else might be.”

There was no one else in the room except for their small group. But that did nothing to alleviate the prince’s sudden worry.

“My private chambers then,” Jor-El said, nodding. “A wise call, Kal.”

Kal could only nod back as his mind started to race once more. Together, the group of lords and ladies cut a path through the palace to the Supreme Lord’s private living quarters. Jor-El bid them all to take a seat in his large living room. But Kal’s nervous energy refused to allow him rest. He paced before the floor to ceiling windows, though he never once looked out over the view it afforded him of the snow and ice covered gardens, once so beautiful to his eyes but now seeming grotesque and misshapen.

Jor-El quietly closed the door to his chambers, after alerting one of the palace security guards that they were not to be disturbed unless by Bilan Hend’son himself. The guard nodded his understanding, then moved off down the hall to patrol. Satisfied, the Supreme Lord turned, crossed the room, and lowered himself into his favorite chair.

“Now then,” he said, clearing his throat. “Who is it that you believe did this, my son?”

Kal took a deep breath, like a diver about to plunge into a deep pool, then slowly released it. “Lord Nor and his brothers.”

“Nor?” Jor-El repeated, as though unable to believe his ears. “Nor Uthor?”

The prince nodded. “I’m almost positive.”

“How?” his father asked. “Have you come across some new evidence? Did Bil tell you something that he didn’t tell me?” His voice was desperate, imploring Kal for some solid shred of evidence that could be used to justify a full-scale search of the Uthors’ estate.

“No…not exactly,” Kal stammered, now even more aware of how ludicrous his theory sounded. “I sort of…dreamed it.” His face went crimson as he uttered the words, and he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

“A…dream?” Jor-El asked, his prior hope deflating before his son’s very eyes.

“I sort of…fell into a light doze earlier,” Kal said, feeling ashamed of the admission, as he sank into a chair. “And I feel awful about that. I feel like I should have been doing…I don’t know. Something more proactive. But when I was asleep, I kind of found myself back at the tournament that was held a few months ago. I could see the whole thing so clearly, in a way that I hadn’t at the time. It was like the whole event was unfolding in slow motion. When I defeated Nor in the final duel, the way that he looked at me…I thought it was just hatred at first. But I know now that there was vengefulness in his eyes.”

“So…my daughter is missing because…Lord Nor Uthor is upset with you for besting him in a duel?” Lord Ra asked gently, trying to puzzle out all of the pieces. He did not sound convinced, but his tone did not condemn Kal’s words as fanciful imaginings, the way Kal had feared they would.

Kal shook his head. “No. At least, that’s not his whole reason, though it wouldn’t surprise me if it was a part of it. Nor holds grudges like you wouldn’t believe. He’s always hated that his father isn’t the Supreme Lord. He’s always despised the fact that there are no daughters in this family that he could have been promised to, thereby granting his family a toehold into the ruling family.”

“And what of Lord Uthor himself?” Zara’s father asked. Kal couldn’t be sure if Lord Ra believed him yet, or if he was merely humoring him. “Do you believe that he is also involved?”

Kal shook his head again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Lux has always been friendly with our family. He’s even a friend of yours, my lord. I just don’t know. And I won’t know, until we bring in the whole family for questioning and search their estate.”

“Lux can’t have anything to do with it,” Samm said with certainty in his voice. “He wouldn’t dare harm Lois. His son, Nor, is promised to Luci.”

Kal couldn’t help it as his jaw crashed to the floor. He stared at the good doctor, wide-eyed and unblinking. His entire body went rigid as his blood turned to ice and froze in his veins. A ghostly, imagined dagger stabbed at his heart and twisted there, causing further agony. His mind skidded to a halt and, for once, he was incapable of forming a single thought. With an effort, he closed his mouth again.

“What?” he asked, hoping that he’d heard wrong somehow.

“I’m not proud of it,” Samm admitted sheepishly. “You see, Nor’s birth-wife died in the Red Fever epidemic. For whatever reason, Lux didn’t arrange another one right away. But when we were expecting Luci, Lord Uthor approached me and offered his son up as Luci’s birth-husband. I saw a good opportunity to secure a prosperous future for her, and accepted the contract that Lux produced. I realize now that I made a mistake. And I wish to Rao that I hadn’t done it. But the contract is iron-clad, the same as yours to Lois. I can’t undo it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Kal felt himself growing ill at Samm’s confession, felt as if the entire room had been slanted to one side, felt himself sliding closer to some vast, ominous abyss. He couldn’t blame his old friend. There couldn’t have been a way for Samm to know that Nor would grow up to be a sociopath. But his stomach roiled all the same. His head rang with phantom warning bells; a clamor of alarm and fear and an intense desire to protect the young girl seated before him.

“I’m sorry,” Kal uttered, unsure if he was expressing sympathy to Luci, asking Samm’s forgiveness for opening that particular can of worms, or merely speaking as a way to hold onto his tenuous grip on reality.

“Kal,” Jor-El said, looking his son in the eye, and jarring him back to the present. “These are serious accusations. You are accusing the Uthors of treason of the highest level. This isn’t something we can treat lightly.” There was no reproach in his voice, only an earnest hope that Kal knew the gravity of what he was saying.

“I know,” the prince returned evenly and with all seriousness. “You know that I would never say anything unless I was more than one hundred percent certain. I know I don’t have any actual, physical proof. And I know how absurd it all sounds. I can’t explain it. But I know that I’m right. Please, you have to believe me.”

“I do,” the Supreme Lord sighed gently. “I know that, in your heart, you believe that you’re right.”

“I am right,” Kal insisted. “And we’re wasting time sitting here discussing it when we should be coming up with a plan to get our loved ones back.”

“What did you have in mind?” Elle asked. She hadn’t yet said anything, but now that she did, her words silenced the young prince for a long moment.

He shook his head again, trying to loosen his tongue, now that it had gone leaden. “I don’t know yet. We could send a contingent of military officers to the Uthor estate to check things out. But without hard proof of wrongdoing, Lux has every right to turn them away. And I don’t want to risk tipping Nor off that we’re on to him.”

“That’s even if Nor has them stashed on his father’s estate,” Lord Ra said thoughtfully. “The Uthors have more than one estate and several buildings scattered all over this planet. And, they have Jen Mai on their side. He has far too many contacts. Who knows who else might be enticed by the thought of an easy victory?”

“Another good point,” Kal conceded.

“But…” Elle said thoughtfully. All eyes turned to her. “Wouldn’t it look strange if they suddenly just took off to one of their other homes, just as the royal family is abducted?”

“It would,” Jor-El nodded, a tiny flicker of hope skittering over his features.

“What if we sent someone to the Uthors’ estate?” Luci asked. “Someone innocent looking. Just to check things out.”

“We can’t risk them knowing that we’re on to them,” Lord Ra said, sounding much more inclined to listen to Kal’s theory now. “They may hurt our loved ones…or worse.”

“If they’re even the ones to have them,” Samm added gloomily.

“Luci’s right though,” Kal said after a moment. “We could possibly send someone over there…under another guise.”

“Like what?” Jor-El asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe someone looking for Lord Uthor’s help in the search.” He ran his hand through his hair as he thought.

“Or maybe someone in disguise,” Luci offered. “Someone to poke around right under their noses, without the Uthors being aware they are even there.”

Kal’s entire face lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s a great idea.”

Jor-El looked dubious. “Breaking and entering?” he asked quietly. “It would be one thing if we had any sort of hard evidence…”

“It’s not breaking and entering if the Uthors allow them to walk inside their estate,” Elle offered, shrugging.

“Exactly,” Kal said, nodding excitedly. He stood and began to pace again, and his hands flew as the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Lord Uthor always has a security detail patrolling his estate, ever since that group of drunk commoners tried to break in…nine or ten years ago. All I would need to do is disguise myself as one of the officers, and I could slip in unnoticed. I’m sure of it. Meanwhile, we can station some of our guys a discreet distance away. One call for help, once we have proof, and we’ll have them.”

“No.” Jor-El’s voice was soft, yet it rendered every tongue stiff and every vocal cord mute.

Kal shook his head. “No?” he asked after a long moment.

“No. This plan of yours…I admit that it has merit. So much so, that I am inclined to follow it through. But…you will not be the one to do this.”

“I have to be the one,” Kal insisted grimly. “I’ve been in the Uthors’ manor before. I know my way around it. How many of our security officers can say the same thing?”

The Supreme Lord shook his head. “I said no. There must be another that we can send to do this task.”

Kal balled his fists. “I need to be the one,” he said again. “I won’t ask someone else to put their life on the line for my family.”

“And I will not allow you to put your life on the line,” Jor-El said, his temper flaring in his worry. “If all is as you say, then Lord Nor isn’t to be trusted. What if he discovered what you were up to? If he is capable of kidnapping my children and threatening me with their deaths, do you really think he would hesitate to harm or kill you as well? Look at how badly he wounded you in the duel, under what should have been friendly circumstances.” His voice softened a notch. “I can’t lose you, Kal. I just can’t.”

Kal opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again. He could hardly breathe around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. His father was pallid white, all of the blood drained from his face. Never before had his father been so scared before. The look on the Supreme Lord’s face went beyond terror to some new dimension of fear, so vast, so uncharted, so unexplored that there was no word for the depth of fright that was written in the man’s features. Kal’s heart bled anew for his father.

“Dad…”

“No,” Jor-El firmly repeated. “I will not lose you. I will speak with Bilan, and ask him to find someone well-suited to the task.”

“How soon can we get this going?” Samm asked, fidgeting in his seat. “Kal’s right about one thing. We’re wasting valuable time.”

Jor-El nodded thoughtfully, though distractedly. Kal knew his father was still worried about his insistence that he be the one to go undercover into the Uthors’ estate. Kal avoided his father’s gaze, and instead, studied the plush crimson carpeting on the floor.

The Supreme Lord rose from his chair even as Kal sat back down in his. With a few long strides, Jor-El crossed the room. He picked up his phone and had Bil on the other end just a few short heartbeats later. He instructed the man to come to his chambers, alone, and with all speed.

Bil must have been close by, for less than fifteen minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. Jor-El admitted the man into his chambers. The Chief of Security looked even worse to Kal’s eyes than he had that morning. It seemed a miracle that he was still on his feet. His eyes were bloodshot and half drooping, staring at everything but seeming to see right through the world. His hands twitched and trembled. Kal guessed that Bil’s jitteriness came either from a lack of sleep, far too much coffee, or a twisted combination of both. As he had earlier, Kal felt a stab of sympathy for the man.

“My lords and my ladies,” Bil said, greeting them all in a voice that was thick, tired, and heavy with worry.

“Bil,” Jor-El greeted him. “Come in. Come in. Take a seat.”

Bil did as he was bid, taking Kal’s seat after much prodding from the prince. The Chief of Security sank down into the overstuffed armchair with a sigh. Kal wondered when the man had last sat down. He looked bone-weary and on the verge of collapse.

“I don’t have many new updates to report,” the man said, casting his eyes to the floor. “I am so terribly sorry. But we did track down the gas canisters.”

“And?” Jor-El asked, his entire being perking up the slightest bit.

Bil shook his head. “There isn’t much to go on. They were stolen from the armory. It must have been last night, before the festival. We tracked down everyone with access to it, but they all still have their key cards.”

“And can we account for where these people were when the canisters were stolen?” Jor-El asked.

Bil nodded. “Unfortunately, we can. Everyone was either at the festival or at their own homes surrounded by guests. Every single one of them has an alibi.”

“So someone…short-circuited the locks?” Kal asked.

Bil nodded again. “Only long enough to take what they wanted. The locks were reset afterwards, which is why no one thought to check to see if anything was missing.”

“And they only took the canisters?” Samm asked, unable to hold his tongue.

“It looks to be that way,” the Chief of Security confirmed. “I’m sorry that I don’t have better news.”

The Supreme Lord shook his head. “I know you’ve been working hard,” he said, his voice gentle and understanding, despite the fleeting look of disappointment that flashed across his features. “We all appreciate your efforts. But my son thinks he may have a lead.”

Bil’s exhausted eyes snapped open, wide and staring. “Oh?” he asked.

Jor-El nodded. “Tell him, Kal.”

Encouraged, Kal related his entire tale from the start. Bil listened intently, all his focus on the prince’s words. He nodded thoughtfully as Kal spoke, though he did not interrupt to ask questions. He simply waited until Kal was done speaking, then carefully examined each piece of information that had been offered up. Once Bil was certain of all that Kal had said, the prince laid out the tentative plans they had come up with.

“It’s a risky plan,” Bil finally said, rubbing his chin, after a long silence blanketed the room. It had taken him a few minutes to digest everything that had been discussed. “But…I like it. We can get this going right away. I’ll need some time to assemble a team, and to get the logistics down. But…we should be able to get this done tonight.”

“It must be done tonight,” Jor-El countered. “We’re running out of time. The note that was sent to me…I do not wish to see if they are bluffing. I won’t risk my children’s lives.”

“And we’ll need time just in case Nor, Ran, and Drull aren’t the abductors,” Lord Ra said, shooting Kal an apologetic look.

Kal nodded back, not offended by the man’s remark. Although he knew in his heart that he was right about Nor, he also knew he had to be open to the possibility that he could be mistaken.

Jor-El stood and moved to one of the bookshelves that lined the far wall of his living room. He reached out, almost blindly, and plucked a map from the cherry-colored wooden unit, so familiar he was with his books. He brought it to the coffee table, unfolding it as he walked. He placed it down, smoothing out the creases where the paper had been folded. Bil studied the map silently, though he nodded to himself, in response to some inner dialogue that he did not share with the rest.

Kal tried to be patient. But every second that Bilan did not speak was pure torture, like a knife thrust into his guts and twisted around, tightening them as it continued to move. It was all Kal could do to remain still, standing just behind the man’s left shoulder, looking at the map as Bil’s finger lightly traced a line here or tapped a spot there.

At last, mercifully, Bil spoke. “This will work,” he declared, the faintest hint of a pleased smile tugging at the far corners of his mouth. It was, Kal thought, the happiest look he’d ever seen on the overly stoic man’s face before. “I’ll place troops here, along the eastern edge of the Uthor estate. This line of trees and brush will conceal them a bit, though it would be better if it wasn’t winter and everything was in bloom. Still, we can make this work. I’ll have some men patrolling here in the south as a decoy. To draw their eye elsewhere. We’ll send in one, maybe two men to have a look around.”

Jor-El nodded his approval, a slight look of relief ghosting over his face. He let out a heavy sigh that spoke of how glad he was to be doing something proactive. Kal’s feelings matched those of his father.

“Do it,” the Supreme Lord instructed.

“At once,” Bil said, standing. He seemed to be completely recharged by the turn of events, all prior weariness gone from his body, as though it had never been.

“If they find nothing…” Jor-El said, letting his voice trail off.

“We’ll pull the men out of there right away,” Bil agreed, finishing his lord’s thought.

“And if they do find something?” Samm asked.

“We’ll have the men secure the area while we move the rest of the troops into position. We’ll take Lord Nor and anyone else we find, place them under arrest, and question them until we can sort this whole mess out. In the meantime, the rest of the men that we have will continue to search other places, just to cover all our bases.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “For the time being, my lords and ladies, I suggest that you stay within the confines of the palace. There is no telling what else may happen.”

Jor-El nodded. “I want you to arrange a security detail to guard each of our personal chambers. I’ll have the staff prepare the guest rooms for you,” he said, looking at Lord Ra and the Lynes. He shifted his eyes back to Bil. “Ensure that a careful watch is kept on my son’s chambers. He is not to leave them for any reason.”

“Dad!” Kal sputtered in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Kal. But until this threat is over, you are confined to your quarters. I want to be extra careful that you stay out of trouble.” He gave his son a knowing look.

“I want to help!”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Jor-El said sharply. “I cannot lose you.”

Kal reluctantly nodded. The stark, naked fear on his father’s face was like a bucket of ice water thrown directly into the prince’s face. Jor-El was terrified that Kal would find a way to put himself in danger. The Supreme Lord was petrified of having all three of his sons taken from him. So he was exercising the only power that was left to him, mistrustful that the headstrong young prince would ignore his wishes.

“As you…wish,” Kal managed to choke out, remorse peppering every word.

Jor-El sighed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Unable to speak, Kal only nodded, then quietly left the room. Bil was on his tail as he went, stopping only to instruct two of the palace security guards to escort the prince to his living quarters. Then the Chief of Security turned down a different section of hall, all but running in his haste. Kal, on the other hand, walked slowly. His limbs felt sluggish, as though he were attempting to walk through some vast, unseen wall of syrup. The very air around him seemed to protest his every footstep even as it crashed against him, threatening to squeeze out the very breath from his lungs. Anger and fear dueled within him. He felt a cold knot twist in his stomach and he could taste the coppery tang of it in his mouth, like that of blood.

He was aware of the looks that the staff gave him as he passed; glimpses of pity and raw fear laid unashamedly open on every face. No one tried to stop him to offer a word of condolence. No one made so much as a halting step forward. Kal sighed inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how grim and pained his face must have looked. And his security detail wasn’t helping things. He tried to remember when the last time had been that he’d had security tailing him, but remained unsuccessful. Krypton was such a stable planet. There had never been fear of any rebellions, uprisings, wars, or takeovers from neighboring planets, not for at least a thousand years or so.

Kal frowned as he reached the corridor where he and his brothers had their chambers. He slowed his step, then halted before Jai’s door. Behind him, the two security officers took two more strides that blended together, then stopped and waited for his lead. Kal gulped around the lump in his throat, then reached out and touched the shiny brass doorknob that lead to his younger sibling’s chambers.

“I’m going to take care of my brothers’ cats,” he informed his escorts, without so much as a backwards glance over his shoulder.

He knew that he was stalling for time. His brothers’ personal attendants could always step into the chambers to ensure that the cats had enough fresh food and water. But Kal would have done anything to prolong being shut up in his quarters. He took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and stepped over the threshold into Jai’s rooms.

He made his work short, aware that if he took too long, his guards would, in all likelihood, come looking for him. And Kal didn’t want that. He wanted a moment alone. When he finished, he moved on to Ching and Zara’s rooms and repeated the same series of tasks. Scooping a generous helping of dry food pellets into the cat’s dish. Dumping out the water and replacing it with fresh, cold water. Cleaning the cat’s litter box. Petting the animal so that it didn’t feel so lonely.

It was eerie, to be in his brothers’ quarters without them there with him. The rooms were too quiet, too still. It made them all but unrecognizable. A chill ran up the prince’s spine and an even greater heaviness settled onto his already squashed and struggling heart. He wondered distractedly if it was possible for so much emotional weight to cause the overworked organ to literally falter and pop like an overripe fruit or overfilled balloon.

When he could no longer put off heading to his own chambers, Kal did so with his head hung, his chin resting on his chest. He saw only his feet as they plodded the remaining distance to his rooms. The resistance in the air was a force that threatened to turn him back. Every step forward left Kal wondering how on Krypton he’d managed to make any headway. His fingertips brushed the knob to his chambers and his stomach flip-flopped in his abdomen. Dread suffused every part of his mind and body. There had been a time, in the early days of his marriage, that the same feelings had washed over him every time he had reached his door. But never once had it been so soul-crushingly difficult to summon the willpower to grasp the handle and open the door.

Kal bit back the anguished cry that had begun to form in his throat. He fought off the shudder of dread that threatened to wrack his entire body. He inched his fingers forward so that their loveless caress of the metal allowed his palm to come to rest on the doorknob. He took a deep, calming breath and gathered his courage, aware, so painfully aware, of the eyes of the two security guards on his back. Their gazes were unwanted additions to the already overwhelming amount of weight he was carrying within his tattered heart and shredded soul. With an effort, he opened the door to his chambers, slipped inside, and shut the door behind him.

The silence within his chambers deafened him, staggered him, almost brought him to his knees. Kal leaned his back against the solid wood, glad, at the very least, for the barrier it provided between himself and his security detail. The closed door turned his chambers into a refuge and a prison simultaneously. He felt instantly relieved and claustrophobic, the two emotions fighting each other for dominance. In the end, loneliness won out, and fear. He sank to the floor, his back still to the door. He felt both drained and bursting with an overabundance of energy. He was lost, adrift on some immeasurable, volatile ocean of raging emotions, with no lifeboat, no driftwood to cling to, no life jacket to keep him afloat. And he was sinking, as surely as a stone tossed into a lake made its rapid descent to a permanent, watery grave.

Fasa sauntered over to him, stopping to yawn and stretch just before he was within Kal’s reach. The cat meowed at him, eyes searching his master’s face, as though he could read the emotions written upon it. The tabby came closer, until he finally climbed onto the prince’s lap so that he could nuzzle Kal’s face with his head. Kal obligingly scratched the cat behind his ears and under his chin, eliciting an immediate start to the cat’s purring. But Kal took no notice, no joy, no comfort from the tabby’s presence. He wanted only to know that his brothers, his sister-in-law, and his wife were safe. He wanted only for this nightmare to be just that, a nightmare relegated to the past, unreal and lacking the power to hurt him and his family in any way.

How long he sat there, propped against the wooden barrier between himself and his guards, Kal couldn’t tell. Minutes, hours, days - time lost all meaning, all influence on his life. But eventually, he stood, letting Fasa scamper away from him as he did so. It amazed Kal that he hadn’t shed a tear while he sat there. He wanted to, needed the sweet release that it offered, needed to unburden some of the painful weight that sat on his heart and in his chest, crushing him, driving the air from his lungs, slowly killing him as he struggled against it. But none would come, as though his entire body had gone completely dry, making it physically impossible for any moisture to pool in his eyes to spill wastefully down his cheeks.

He moved to the living room and began to pace before his windows. The short winter day was coming to a close beyond the massive windows. Only the barest rim of the horizon was still awash in a bold orange that stood defiant of the encroaching purple-black of night. Kal gave up pacing when he found that it only made him feel even more trapped than before. He looked after Fasa’s needs, though the distraction was far too brief. He attempted to read, but after reading the same line ten times and still not knowing what it said, he gave up. He flipped through the channels on his video screen, but found the sudden influx of sound to be unsettling without Lois’ presence to offset it. He flicked the monitor off again and tossed the remote to the far end of the couch. He went back to pacing.

He was trying to obey his father’s wishes. He was attempting to place his faith in Bil and his team. He was doing his utmost to keep to his word that he would do as his father commanded - to stay within his chambers until the threat was over and the abductors brought to justice. But every moment spent doing nothing was agony, torture unlike anything that Kal had ever experienced. It clawed at him from the inside out, tearing his guts and organs into bloody shreds. It made him want to scream out in frustration, in hurt, in terror. It filled him with such adrenaline that made him feel as though he could move mountains, divert rivers, tear down walls, and fly into the heavens to snuff out the stars.

He tried to rationalize with himself. He tried to convince himself that Bil and his team would be successful. He tried to make himself see that there was nothing that he could do that the others could not. And yet, he knew, even as he thought these things, that they weren’t true. His gut instinct told him that he was the one who needed to explore the Uthors’ manor. He’d been there before. Not many others had. Lux was very particular about who he allowed into his home. Kal felt certain that his foreknowledge was an advantage that would mark the difference between the mission being a success or a failure.

Resolve grew in him. It washed over his body; a cleansing wave that took away his fear, took away his depression, took away his feeling of being hopelessly lost. It gave him a purpose, a reason to continue to fight. He knew what he had to do, though the knowledge filled him with guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” he whispered to the empty, lifeless room around him, his voice barely audible to his own ears.

He crossed the room, then picked up his phone. His fingers glided easily over the buttons, without him even needing to guide them with a conscious thought. He listened as the phone sprang into life, dialing the one person he could trust. After a long moment, the other end picked up and Kal let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Ruce? It’s me, Kal. I need your help.”

***

Half an hour later, Kal swallowed the last of his sandwich, which he’d whipped up from a few items he had in his modest pantry. He wasn’t hungry, and the food tasted like dirt in his distracted, fearful state, but he knew that he needed the fuel it would afford his body. He’d eaten so little since the night before, when he’d been blissfully unaware of the attack that had been waiting for his family. He unceremoniously drained the last sip of water from his glass, then washed it in the sink in his kitchenette. He knelt down, petted Fasa on the head, and enjoyed the sensation of the cat’s deep, rhythmic purring for a moment.

“Be good,” he whispered to the feline. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Kal zipped his thick coat up to his neck, stepped over to the windows in his living room, and opened it. He stepped out into the frigid night air and closed the sliding door behind him. From his vantage point on his narrow balcony, he watched the palace security patrols; dark shapes moving against a slightly less dark backdrop. Timing his movements so that he would not be caught, he dropped a length of rope down to the ground after securing the top to the railing. As he slowly and silently descended to the frozen ground below, he was infinitely glad that he still had some of the items he’d used in his brief military career, though he hadn’t made it much past the training stage before his injury had forced his withdrawal from the force.

Once on the ground, Kal tugged on the rope enough to dislodge the hook he’d used to bind it to the railing, then he quickly coiled it and placed it into the pack he carried on his back. Luckily for him, the night was clear. Only a few shredded rags of thin clouds hung nearly motionless in the sky, outlined in silver-gray from the moonlight. The twin moons were close to full and threw down more than enough light to see by, but the light was cold, distant, and unfriendly to his upturned face. With a quick glance around to ensure that no one was in the vicinity, Kal hunched his shoulders against the freezing temperature and quickly headed off to the small, rarely used, and all but forgotten servant’s path along the outermost rim of the gardens. The path was badly overgrown, and branches from various trees and hedges reached out towards him with groping fingers, begging him to stop and take note of them. He shouldered them aside, trying not to make any noise that would give himself away.

At last, he was far enough along the path. He stopped and looked around, trying to find what he needed. He chewed his lower lip absently as he searched. Then he saw it. One of the trees nearby was perfect. The branches started fairly low and grew out at almost regular intervals. It would be easy enough to climb. Kal would barely have to exert himself. And one thick, hopefully sturdy, limb reached out enough to kiss the top of the high stone wall that encircled the gardens; that ancient sentinel which protected the palace, though there had never been an attempt to breach the palace grounds, not for more than a thousand years.

Kal quickly made his way to the tree, then jumped up to grab a low branch. Using his upper-body strength, he easily pulled himself up into the tree. Carefully, he picked his path through the tangle of limbs and branches, testing each hand-and foot-hold before fully committing his weight to them. The limbs were heavy with snow and slick with ice in places. A few times, he had to scramble to hold on as a hidden patch of ice appeared beneath his booted feet, despite his great care and the specially designed treads on the bottoms of his footwear. But at last, he made it to his target. Slowly, and with deliberate care, he eased himself out onto the limb, crawling across it on his belly, using his hands to grip the bark ahead of him and his toes to propel himself forward.

The limb groaned beneath him, so laden as it was with its heavy load of snow. Kal only hoped the added stress of his body weight would not cause the wood to crack. His hands reached forward, grabbing with fingers that were swiftly going numb. He wished desperately that he could put on his gloves, but the thick material was too ungainly for such a delicate operation. His feet pushed him forward, the rough bark sliding beneath his stomach as he moved. The limb let loose another agonized grunt.

“Just a little further,” Kal whispered; to himself or the tree, he wasn’t quite sure. “Almost there.” It instantly became a mantra. “Just a little further.” Reaching ahead, grabbing the bark. “Almost there.” Pushing ahead with his toes, inching his body forward.

At last, Kal was at the wall. With infinite care, he lowered himself to the top of the stone wall, going so slowly he hardly felt he was moving at all. He crouched there, atop the wall, for a long moment, looking out, searching. Then he finally saw it, headlights moving in the distance, coming ever closer. Kal held his breath, hoping the approaching vehicle was the one he sought. As the hovercraft neared the wall, it slowed to a crawl. A small smile curled the edges of Kal’s mouth for what felt like the first time that day. He’d recognize Ruce’s vehicle anywhere.

Kal reached into his pocket and withdrew the small flashlight from within the confines of the thick material. With fingers too numb to feel it, he pressed the button, aiming the thin beam of light down to the snow-encrusted ground beyond the gardens. Ruce saw the signal. He edged the vehicle forward, throwing it into park ten feet from where Kal was. Kal put the device away, then eased his rope and hook from his pack once more. He drove the hook as deeply into the snow and ice as he could, then tugged on the line to see if it would hold. It looked steady enough, so he tossed the line over the side and began to slowly let himself down. The line was about five feet too short, so Kal released the rope once he reached the end, and allowed himself to fall the rest of the way. He landed feet-first in the snow, then quickly retrieved his rope once more.

He opened the passenger door of Ruce’s vehicle, tossing his pack over his shoulder into the back seat as he sat. The heat within the hovercraft was more than welcome, and Kal pressed his frozen fingers to the vents before him, sighing gratefully as the warmth seeped into his digits.

“Thanks for coming,” he said to his old friend. “I owe you one.”

Ruce nodded. “Like I said, anything I can do to help, you can count me in. So…where to?”

“Your place,” Kal said without hesitation. “I’ll explain what I need to do on the way.”

“Next stop, A’ne Manor,” the young lord said with a grin. He put the vehicle into drive, guiding it over the frozen landscape with all speed.

As they moved further from the palace, some of the tension within Kal began to unfurl, slowly at first, but more swiftly as he grew closer to A’ne Manor. The farther they got from the palace, the more Kal felt his emotions changing. Despair gave way to hope. Fear fled before a sense of determination. Powerlessness bowed down to purposefulness. Restlessness became calm collectedness.

In only one thing did he still hold any reservations. He’d deliberately disobeyed his father’s wishes. He felt horrible about that. He had never done a thing like this before. Oh, sure, he’d climbed a tree as a young boy when his father had told him not to. He’d snuck out into the gardens at night as a teenager to visit with the stars when his father had thought him fast asleep in his bed. But this wasn’t the same as a boy pushing the envelope to see what he could and could not get away with. This…this was an outright betrayal. And it was eating away at Kal’s conscience, like some vast, hungry beast that could not be sated.

He sighed to himself and then steeled his emotions once more. There would be plenty of time to beg his father’s forgiveness once his brothers, sister-in-law, and wife were safe. Any punishment that Jor-El might deem necessary to dole out would be well worth it, if only Kal knew that the people he loved were safe and sound. He would spend the rest of his life apologizing for betraying his father’s trust, for utterly defying his command, if only he could hold his wife in his arms again. Kal had heard a saying once, though he could no longer recall where he’d heard it. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Kal hadn’t agreed with it at the time, at least not totally. But in this one, dire situation, he found himself siding with the saying. In his heart, he knew he was doing the right thing.

Ruce cast a concerned look at the prince, and Kal realized belatedly that he’d been silent for a long time. Clearing his throat, Kal began to speak. As quickly and concisely as possible, he filled his friend in on his plans. Ruce nodded thoughtfully as he drove, peppering Kal with small questions and concerns as the prince laid bare his intentions.

“Of course, you realize, I’m going with you,” Ruce said, after Kal lapsed into silence once more.

Kal shook his head. “No. I need to do this alone.”

Ruce shook his own head in return. “You don’t get a choice in this.”

“I’d say that I do. This is my family, Ruce. I won’t ask you to put yourself in danger for them.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing that you don’t have to ask. Kal, look, you know that you and the others are like family to me. You guys are all I have, ever since my folks died. I have every right to help you in this. And, let’s face it, you need me.”

“Ruce…”

“No, Kal,” the young noble said, cutting the prince off before he could argue. “You do need me. One person alone isn’t going to be enough. What if someone’s hurt? You need a second set of hands in this.”

Kal sighed and slumped in his seat. He hated to admit it, but his friend was right. He would be better off with someone else at his side. It would be for the best if he had someone to watch his back, to ensure that this desperate rescue attempt did not fail. He sighed again and consigned himself to his fate.

“Okay,” he finally said, nodding. “You win. You can come.”

Ruce nodded, but did not speak. He crested a small hill and there it was before them; A’ne Manor, in all its glory. The young lord quickly brought his hovercraft around the back, to one of the numerous garages that held his collection of vehicles. He pulled into the empty spot that stood waiting for them, then put the vehicle into park and killed the engine. Kal grabbed his pack from the back seat and followed his friend through the door that connected into the manor itself.

As quietly as any mouse, the two men raced through the halls, unwilling to attract the attention of any of the staff. Kal knew that Ruce’s manservant, Alph, would likely inform the Supreme Lord that his fugitive son was in the manor if he caught sight of him. But at this hour, the entire place was subdued; even the kitchen was eerily silent as they passed it.

They made it to Ruce’s living quarters without incident. Kal breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut behind them, releasing a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He followed Ruce into the living room, shedding his coat as he walked, then sank into the dark brown leather couch. He took a deep, calming breath. He’d made it this far. He was out of the palace. He was at A’ne Manor. He was approximately a third of the way through with his plan already. He even felt slightly ahead of the schedule he’d concocted in his mind.

“Stay here,” Ruce said. “I’ll see what I can do as far as disguises go.”

Kal nodded his consent and dropped his head into his hands. He did not watch as Ruce left the chambers. He was absorbed wholly within his own thoughts. Were his brothers okay? Had Nor hurt them? Would he truly kill one of them if Jor-El failed to turn over his throne to him? Was Zara okay? Was Lois okay? Was she scared? Had either of the women been hurt or…violated? Kal shuddered at the thought. He wasn’t a violent man by any stretch of the imagination, but he would make Nor and his brothers pay if they had laid so much as a finger on either of the women.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Ruce spoke from behind him, so lost to his thoughts he had become. He’d never even realized how much time had passed.

“I think I found just the ticket,” the man said. He came around Kal’s right side and dumped a bag onto the coffee table. “What do you think?”

Kal carefully picked through the items. He studied each one as if it held the secrets of the universe, turning each object over to explore every angle. Most he placed into a pile of what he found useful. Others he disregarded. He felt bad about being overly critical, but it was absolutely vital that he was certain of every single item.

“These suits look great,” he said, holding one of the black shirts up, inspecting it with a pleased, but critical eye. “Nor won’t be able to tell the difference between these and the ones his own men wear.”

“We don’t have any of the medals or anything that the Uthor family’s guards wear,” Ruce said unhappily.

Kal shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The very newest of the Uthors’ security guards don’t have any. And I happen to know that Lux just added to his ranks about three weeks ago.”

“Lucky for us.”

“Well, something had to go our way,” Kal said, trying to convince himself that his plan was foolproof. He gestured to the various make-ups and prosthetics that lay on the table. “You sure you know how to apply this stuff?”

Ruce made a face at Kal. “Of course I do. A’ne Endeavors created these. Now, be quite and sit still. I’ll do you up first.”

Kal slid to the edge of the couch. He clamped his mouth shut over the light retort that was burning on his tongue. He closed his eyes and let Ruce get to work. As his friend’s hands swept over his face again and again, Kal tried to picture what the final product would look like. The prosthetics felt odd against his flesh; not quite cold but not warm either, heavy on his skin though they barely weighed anything at all. Ruce worked with an efficiency that Kal hadn’t quite expected, before the prince remembered with a jolt that Ruce almost always personally tested out the products his company created. Of course he would be familiar with applying the assortment of fake scars and pockmarks.

Kal tried not to think of how much time was slipping by as he and Ruce prepared themselves for the next leg of their mission. But at last, Ruce declared Kal to be finished. Feeling relieved, the prince took the rest of his disguise into the bathroom to change. He fought the impulse to examine Ruce’s handiwork in the mirror. He wanted to get the full effect once he was dressed. Quickly, he changed his clothes, then looked in the mirror.

A stranger looked back at him.

A thin, pinkish scar ran down the center of his left eye, the surrounding flesh still puckered as it healed, old though the wound appeared. A similar wound sprouted from the corner of his mouth, twisting it down to a permanent half-scowl. Raised red acne had magically popped up all over his face. His nose was a different shape altogether, longer and more bulbous. Kal smiled to himself, and watched as the stranger in the mirror did the same. He slicked back his hair, hoping to further transform himself, then slipped on a false pair of glasses.

“Perfect,” he said, seeing no trace of his former self in his reflection.

It took Ruce slightly longer to get his own disguise into place. Kal gaped as he looked at his friend, once he emerged from the bathroom. Ruce was not recognizable. The twenty-seven year old looked closer to fifty, with gray hair at his temples and old battle scars randomly appearing on his face and neck. He sported a thin line of a mustache above his upper lip and a neatly trimmed, graying goatee on his chin. Some extra padding to his suit made him appear heavier than he truly was.

Kal shook his head. “Incredible,” he breathed.

Ruce shot him a wry smile. “I know I am.”

He knelt on the dark green carpet of the room and tied on a pair of boots before helping Kal store things into some of the extra deep pockets of their guard-suits. Kal shoved a couple of silver pouches into one pocket on his left leg; experimental energy-boosting drinks that Ruce’s company was developing. A strong, slender pocket knife went into a different pocket. Ruce stuffed a small electronic device into his own pants pocket. He clipped a stun gun in a holster to his belt and handed another to Kal.

“Here,” he said, as Kal took the weapon. “This dial here is the setting. A three will take down almost anyone without killing them.” He gave the dial on his own gun a demonstrative twist. “A five is lethal.”

Kal frowned as he looked at the weapon in his hand. He didn’t like it one bit, but it was a necessary evil. With a sigh of regret that things had to be this way, he checked the setting, then holstered the gun. He promised himself that he would not draw the weapon unless it was absolutely necessary. But he also admitted to himself that he would need the weapon just to complete his disguise, if nothing else.

A few minutes later, the two men finished storing away everything they might need in their mission. Kal checked the battery life on his phone and set it to silent mode, then slipped it into his right pocket once he was satisfied. He nodded at Ruce. A nod passed between the two; the time had come. The next leg of their rescue mission was officially underway.

Back through A’ne Manor they went, hearts in their mouths. They slunk from shadow to shadow as they went, though not a single servant was to be seen. At last, they were back in the garage. Ruce selected one of his larger vehicles, one which would accommodate everyone once they freed the captives. As soon as they were clear of the garage, the young lord jammed his foot down on the gas. The hovercraft shot forward faster than Kal would have believed possible, though the new engine technology that A’ne Endeavors had created made the vehicle no louder than a baby’s sigh.

“Ruce,” Kal said after a moment, as his friend expertly guided the vehicle through the black night.

“Yeah?” he replied, somewhat distractedly.

“Thank you for this. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.” The words almost stuck in his throat as emotion swept over him.

“You’re welcome. You know I’d do anything to help.”

“I know. You’ve always been there when I’ve needed you.”

“So have you,” Ruce said quietly.

It did not take long to reach the Uthors’ estate, Lux Manor. Ruce put the car into park half a mile away from the place, behind a screen of trees and a slight rise in the ground. It didn’t fully hide the vehicle from sight, but it was the best they could hope for, and the hovercraft’s dark paint job blended neatly into the night. And, more importantly, it was not in the vicinity of where Bil planned to station his team.

Out they trudged, into the bitter cold of the night, as the wind began to pick up. Kal could not get over how far the temperature had plummeted in the brief time since he had slipped out of his chambers. He wondered briefly if his absence had yet been noticed. But the thought didn’t last long. It was only one searing flash across his mind, and it faded faster than the shooting stars he’d shared with Lois on the night they had fallen in love.

But the biting cold did have one distinct advantage. Not many guards were outdoors. Kal and Ruce were able to slip onto the Uthors’ estate grounds without any difficulty. Finding a well-worn path of hard-packed snow indented with the impressions of numerous boot soles, they quickly blended into the patrol that was braving the elements. The few times that they passed other guards, they were given no more than a cursory glance. Such was the misery of being stuck out in the snow on duty.

As they rounded a corner of the estate, a commotion broke out. Guards went rushing out into the night. They were all yelling, but Kal couldn’t make out what any one person was saying. At last, coming around a tall evergreen hedge, Kal could see a small knot of bodies engaged in a fight. He longed to know what was going on. His heart ached for whoever was on the receiving end of the punches that were being thrown; he could tell even from that distance that it was only one, maybe two, against many. He took a step towards the ruckus, then stopped as Ruce grabbed his arm.

“We can’t,” Ruce hissed under his breath.

“We can’t just leave whoever that is.”

“We have to,” Ruce insisted. “This is our chance to get inside. It may be our only chance.”

Both man clamped shut their mouths as Lord Ran Uthor rushed past them, his coat half hanging off in his haste. He pulled on the dangling sleeve as he went, never stopping to give Ruce and Kal so much as a sideways glance. He shouted to the guards involved in the fray, but Kal wasn’t listening to what was being said. Ruce was right. This was their chance to get inside. Still, it was not without regret that Kal turned and swiftly made a beeline for the door.

The warmth of Lux Manor slapped Kal in the face like a physical blow. It was almost unbearably hot inside. He quickly pulled off his hat and unzipped his coat. He couldn’t just dump the items; he’d need them again when he and the others would make their escape. Assuming he could find them. Assuming that his certainty of Nor’s involvement was not misguided. He would have to make do with wearing the bulky coat indoors.

“And just what are you doing here?”

The voice came from behind them and Kal started at the unexpected sound. He turned slowly, swallowing hard as he did so. He knew the voice well, would know it in any circumstance, even if he could not see its owner. He sent out a quick prayer that his disguise would hold up. This was it. The true test had finally come. He forced down his features so that they would not reflect the node of fear that had crept back into his guts and found the familiar place it had been occupying since Lois and the others had been taken.

“Sorry?” he asked, pitching his voice deeper than it was. It sounded forced and stupid to his ears.

Jen Mai sighed in exasperation. “It’s sorry, my lord,” he reminded Kal, as though he’d done so a hundred times before. “I thought Lord Uthor ordered you new guards to safeguard the prisoners?”

“Oh, right,” Kal said, dramatically bowing in apology. “We were just on our way. My lord.”

Jen Mai arched a skeptical eyebrow and pointed. “That way,” he said, shaking his head. He gestured to the opposite direction from which Kal and Ruce had been facing.

“Right. Sorry, my lord,” Ruce said, coming to Kal’s aid. “We got a little turned around.”

“When will Lord Uthor hire people who know what they’re doing?” the Elder complained under his breath. “Down the hall. Take your first two right turns. And try not to screw up anymore today.”

“Yes, my lord,” the two men said, bowing.

They turned from Jen Mai and hurried down the hall, trying to maintain a dignified pace even as they escaped the scrutiny of the Elder’s gaze. It was difficult for Kal not to throw a glance backward. He wanted to know if the Elder was watching their progress. His breath was held within his lungs, despite his best efforts to remain calm. Seeing Jen Mai had caused his heart to seize up in his chest. He knew now that his instincts had been correct. Jen Mai was working with the Uthors, though Kal still couldn’t be sure if Lux was directly involved. Though the Elder had mentioned “Lord Uthor,” he could have easily been discussing Nor, Ran, or Drull.

Only sheer willpower kept Kal’s body from turning around to see if the man was still watching them. From where the willpower had come, the prince couldn’t say. He hadn’t thought himself capable of keeping his calm collectedness, not in a situation like this. This wasn’t some prickly political issue to solve. This wasn’t the heat of battle, when his body seemed to act almost independently of his thoughts. This was desperation at its very worst, where Kal’s mind seemed to have enough time to question his every movement.

The hall before him seemed to stretch out into eternity. Every step forward seemed to make the distance between himself and his goal become somehow torturously longer, not shorter. So, it was with immense relief that he finally reached the first right turn and moved out of the possibility of Jen Mai’s watchful eyes. The new section of hall seemed a veritable sanctuary, and his aching lungs finally spilled out the breath they had been holding. They passed a few patrolling guards, but no one stopped them. There was nothing notable about the two brand-new guards, and so there was no reason to bother with them. Before long, Kal and Ruce reached the second right turn and froze in their tracks as they rounded the corner.

Lux and Nor Uthor were emerging from behind a hidden door. Their backs were to Ruce and Kal as they shut the door behind them. Kal backed up one step before he realized his feet were moving. He forced himself to stop and watch the two lords before him, memorizing where the door was before it faded into a perfect camouflage with the surrounding wall. The thought occurred to him that he should flee to the safety of the hallway he’d just left. Fresh worries seared through his mind. Would his disguise hold up? What if Nor and his father stayed around the area? How would he and Ruce find a way to get to the captives then?

As the prince debated these things in his mind, the two men turned and saw Kal and Ruce. Lux fixed them with a cold stare. Kal felt as if his entire disguise was stripped away, leaving him naked and vulnerable before the powerful lord. Powerful and evil, Kal knew now. The simple fact that he’d seen Lux emerge from a hidden door with his son confirmed for Kal the unhappy knowledge that the man was also in on the kidnapping and extortion plot.

Kal didn’t turn away from Lux’s piercing gaze, even as he heard the pounding of feet coming from behind him. To turn was to admit fear. To turn was to admit wrongdoing. And he refused to blow his cover for any reason.

The squeaking of wet boot soles on the marble seemed painfully loud to Kal’s ears, but at least it served to divert Lux and Nor’s attentions. Both men’s heads snapped up to look at the guard that came running up.

“My lords,” the man said, breathless from his sprint through the immense mansion.

“What is it now?” Lux growled in annoyance.

“We’ve been breached!”

“Breached?” Nor asked. “Explain.”

Kal’s heart nearly stopped. Had someone noticed them? Had the dots been connected? It was a fight to keep his features neutral, on the chance that the man was not actually speaking about Ruce and himself.

“Two of Jor-El’s security guards tried to sneak onto the estate. And there is a small contingent of their men snooping around to the south.”

“What?!” Lux roared, his dark eyes flashing with unrestrained fire. Kal had rarely ever seen the man lose his temper before, and now that he was witnessing it, it sent a jolt of fear into his heart.

“My men apprehended the two trying to sneak in from the east side. They were disguised as our own.”

“They must know…or at least, suspect,” Nor muttered to his father.

“It would seem so.” Lux sighed as his composure returned. His gaze flickered from his son to the security guard again. “Where are they now?”

“The main hall,” the man said. “They were only just brought in now. We are awaiting your command.”

“Very well,” Lux replied evenly. “Let’s see just what they thought they were doing. Have them brought to my study.”

Nor nodded. “You two!” he snapped, pointing at Ruce and Kal. “Don’t just stand there staring!”

“Yes, my lord,” Ruce said when Kal failed to speak. “What would you ask of us?”

“Guard this hall,” the man all but spat at them. “No one comes down here, period. Kill anyone who does. I don’t care if it is one of your own. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, my lord,” Ruce said, bowing his head slightly.

“Good. If you fail me, I will have your heads.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kal said, finally finding his voice, despite his parched mouth. “Of course.” He only just barely remembered to put on his feigned deeper voice.

Not another word was said to them as Lux and Nor followed after the guard who had sought them out. Kal watched them as they disappeared around the corner, and strained his ears to listen to their retreating footsteps. When they were truly gone from the area, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

“That was close,” he whispered to Ruce. “I thought for sure they recognized me.”

“I thought so too for a second there,” Ruce admitted. “Now, how do we get this door open?”

“There has to be a switch or something,” Kal said, examining the wall before them.

The short hall branched off to a T intersection before them. And in the center of it lay the hidden door, though it was so expertly placed that it was nearly impossible to tell that it was there. Kal approached the wall and ran his hands over the expensive cherry-colored wood. He knew the wood had been imported from the furthest planet that Krypton had trade routes with, and that it cost close to ten times more than any other wood because of how hard it was to come by. Most of Lux Manor used the same type of wood, and Kal calculated that the wood in just this hallway alone cost more than most commoners made in a year.

“It has to be here somewhere,” he mumbled to himself, growing more anxious by the moment. “Come on. Come on. Come on. Where are you?” He was talking to the wall now, as if pleading with it would magically make the door spring open.

His questing fingers glided over the decorative pieces that had been carved into the wood. As they caressed the image of a majestic stag, the antlers gave way beneath his touch. There was a soft, but audible click, and the door silently swung open towards them.

“Nice work,” Ruce commended him. “What did you touch?”

Kal showed him the secret switch he’d accidently discovered. “Let’s go.”

“After you.”

Lights shone beyond the doorway, illuminating a metal staircase leading down to some underground area. The stairs were so crude, so stark and unadorned, that it was hard to conceive of them being part of Lux Manor at all. Kal took a deep breath and crossed over the threshold. Down the stairs he went, while Ruce followed, shutting the secret door tightly behind him. Exquisite wooden walls gave way to naked stone, and the almost summery warmth of the mansion was quickly vanquished by a frigid iciness that rivaled the outdoors. Kal shivered a little as he descended the steps, but he did not slow to do so much as pull his coat tighter against his body. Every footstep set the metal beneath his toes ringing, and the surrounding stone threw the noise back at him.

At last, he reached the floor. A wall ran along both of his sides, but the left side quickly opened up and spilled into another chamber. A chamber filled with cells. Four were occupied. One stood empty. The closest of the imprisoned bodies were huddled with their backs to him, trying to share body heat as best they could between the bars that separated them from their neighbors. At his approach though, four heads snapped up to peer at him, eyes wide and wondering what new indignities they would be forced to suffer.

Kal’s knees nearly buckled in relief when he recognized his loved ones.

He had to grip the bars of Lois’ cell to steady himself after stumbling forward. Instantly, she was on her feet, her dark eyes flashing. She punched his fingers as hard as she could and Kal’s mouth dropped open in surprise, as he momentarily forgot his disguise.

“Get away,” she said, her voice as hard and cold as the stone and metal that held her prisoner. “Just get away from us.”

“Lois,” he said, his voice going soft as the fear in his body started to once more uncoil. “It’s me.”

“Me,” she sneered, obviously not impressed by his eloquence. “You all look the same to me. Just as mean and stupid as the men you work for.”

“Lois,” he said, trying again. “It’s Kal. By Rao, I’ve been so worried about you.”

Lois seemed to recognize his voice this time, though she looked dubiously at him. “Kal?” she finally ventured to ask. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. He removed his false glasses, hoping she’d recognize him a little better.

His wife’s face broke out into a huge smile. “It is you! Oh, Kal, I knew you’d come.”

“Are you okay?” Kal asked, looking her over for any outward signs of injury. “Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”

Lois shook her head. “I’m fine. But Zara needs a doctor.”

“Zara?” he asked, looking over to the next cell, where Ching’s wife lay on the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes. He could not miss the dark stain of blood covering the front of her pants. “Oh no. Was it…?”

“Another miscarriage,” Zara said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she looked away from him. Her voice sounded calm, but hollow to Kal’s ears; not quite accepting of the situation, but somehow resigned to the fact that she had lost another baby.

“I’m so sorry, Zara.” Kal’s gaze swept over the cages. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry for you guys. So has Dad.” His eyes moved again to Lois. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too. I was so relieved when I realized Uthor’s men hadn’t gotten you too.”

Kal pressed against the bars of Lois’ cell and she did the same. A second later, their lips met in a deep, desperate kiss. Kal felt life returning to his destroyed heart, felt the fragile, jagged pieces reassembling themselves within his chest. Just seeing, hearing, feeling his wife was enough to erase all the sorrow he’d been carrying. He could feel Lois’ hot tears as they rolled down her cheeks and met his own flesh. He raised his hands to cup her face through the bars and gently wiped the salty droplets away.

“Sssh. Sssh. It’s okay,” he whispered against her lips as they both broke to take a breath. “I’m here now. I won’t let anything else happen to you, I promise.”

“Oh, by the way,” Jai said from his cell, his voice edging towards panic, “the rest of us are just fine, thanks for asking.”

“Ruce and I will get you out of here,” Kal swore, reluctantly stepping away from Lois.

“Good to see you, little brother. But Lux has the keys,” Ching said, standing at the door of his cage, gripping the bars with white-knuckled intensity, though his eyes were solely fixed on his own wife.

“Figures,” Kal said, eyeing the locks on the cells and replacing the frames on his face.

Of course Lux had gone with old fashioned lock and key setups for the makeshift prison. Most people had stopped using such antiquated technology centuries ago. Key cards had been all the rage for a long time, and many still used that system, though biometric readers had recently come into vogue. Kal found himself wishing that Lux had used any of the electronic systems to lock the doors. Ruce had a number of small devices on him that were capable of short-circuiting such systems. It would have allowed them to open the cages within seconds.

“Can you get us out?” Jai asked, his face stark white in terror. Kal couldn’t even begin to imagine what had spooked his baby brother so badly.

“I’ll find a way,” Kal assured him. “In the meantime, here.” He withdrew the small silver pouches that he’d stuffed into his pockets. He handed each of them one. “It’s an energy drink. I’m guessing you need it.”

In truth, they each looked haggard. Kal imagined they probably hadn’t gotten much, if any, sleep, not in such dire cold conditions. And there was no evidence that they had been fed either. He knew the energy drinks would be just what they needed. It would afford them enough energy to get out of Lux Manor and back home to the palace, where they would properly be cared for. Plus, it had the added benefit of warming a person from the inside out, though A’ne Endeavors had deemed that a flaw with the formula, and was still actively working to fix what the company saw as a major problem.

Ruce took out one of the small devices he’d taken with him. He went first to Zara’s cell. A wide blue laser shot out from the device, and he quickly scanned her body. A few seconds later, he read the result on the tiny screen, then moved on to the next cell. He nodded thoughtfully as each reading flashed on screen.

“No injuries,” he announced to Kal. “Some trace amounts of a powerful tranquilizer in their systems. Not enough to be of any concern now. But Zara needs to get to a doctor regardless.”

Kal nodded absently, still eyeing the locks. He hadn’t planned for this. He’d anticipated electronic ones. But it made sense, in a weird, twisted way. Lux loved technology, and was often one of the first people to try out a new product. But he also had a fondness for antiques. And the locks Kal was looking at now certainly counted as antiques.

Finally, a thought occurred to the prince, and he reached for his pocket knife. Flipping it open, he inserted the blade into the lock on Lois’ cell. For five long minutes, he worked at it, trying to find the sweet spot that would allow him to unlock the inner mechanism. His heart thudded so loudly against his ribs that he was certain the entire manor must have been able to hear it.

With one final attempt, he twisted the knife and was rewarded with a satisfying click. In the next instant, Lois had the door open and was in his arms. He held her tightly to himself, and felt all his inner darkness fading away with the sunlight she brought to his life. Judging by the way her arms tightened around his neck, he was certain she felt the same way.

After a long moment, he disentangled himself from his wife’s embrace. Ruce had followed his lead, and already had Zara’s door unlocked. The young lord stepped inside the cage and helped the princess from the floor, allowing her to lean on him as she stood. Kal didn’t stop to watch. He began to work at Ching’s lock, his hands shaking and clumsy from the cold in the room and from trying to work too fast. He was all too aware of how long it had been since he and Ruce had discovered the hidden prison chamber.

“Easy, Kal,” Ching said, trying to calm his younger brother’s nerves. “Slow and steady.”

Kal shook his head. “We’ve only got a very short window of time to get you guys out of here. There was a plan to send in a couple of Bil’s men to find you, but they got caught. Lux and Nor went to interrogate them. Who knows how long that might last? We have to move now.”

Another frenzied shove at the lock finally opened it. Kal sighed in relief. In the next second, the door to Ching’s cell swung open and he was crossing the distance to Zara. Kal watched as his brother embraced his wife. He saw the tears flowing anew from Zara’s eyes, and his heart broke once more for them. Ching held Zara tightly to him, his hand stroking her head, trying to impact some comfort to her - comfort she’d been denied as they had sat in their separate cells. Kal heard Zara say something as she buried her head into Ching’s chest, but it was too muffled to make out over the rapid beating of Kal’s own heart.

“I know,” Ching murmured, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. Sssh. Sssh. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Zara moaned in anguish, a soul-twisting sound. Kal could see the shaking of her shoulders as she wept.

“I promise you,” Ching said, rubbing her back, “we will have a healthy baby one day. I’ll find a way. Some treatment. Something. I promise.”

His heart breaking for the couple, Kal forced himself to look away. He had to stay focused. Time was passing by. The longer they stayed in the dungeon, the greater the chance was that their rescue mission would be discovered. And that was a chance they could not afford to take.

“How are you doing over there, Ruce?” Kal asked, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice, despite his efforts to tamp it down.

“Almost there,” the man replied.

Ruce was already working on Jai’s cage, as the man inside paced restlessly. Kal knew that something was wrong, something deeper than just their confinement, based on Jai’s erratic movements and colorless face. He wanted to ask. He really did. But he had to keep Jai focused on their escape. Ruce swore under his breath as he worked at picking the lock until it finally opened. The door to the cell swung open with a loud groan.

“Thank you,” Jai said gratefully. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Jai,” Kal said, taking his brother by the shoulders and shaking him gently. “Jai, look at me. I need you to focus now, okay? We need to get out of here. I need you to help me now, all right? Can you do that for me?

Kal discreetly shot a look at Ching. An unspoken message passed between the two brothers in that glance. Ching nodded his head slightly.

Jai’s eyes finally focused on Kal. The man swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good. I want you to help Zara, okay?”

Kal knew that he needed to get Jai to focus on a task, any task. He needed to stop fixating on whatever had so badly unnerved him. Helping Zara would give Jai something to do. And, Kal knew, if it came to a struggle, he would need Ching free to fight. He was a much better fighter than Jai was, and the best shot with a gun out of the three of them.

“Okay,” Jai said again.

“Good man. Let’s get out of here.”

Ruce led the way back up the metal stairs, this time going slowly so as to minimize the noise they were making. Zara leaned heavily on Jai, in pain or from her grief, Kal couldn’t tell. Lois followed the pair, then Ching, with Kal bringing up the rear. At the top of the stairs, Ruce cautiously opened the door a crack, just enough to be able to survey the hallway. Kal knew it to be utterly abandoned as the man pushed the door open further, then slipped out into the hall.

“Hurry,” he whispered back, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. He waved them on with one hand for emphasis. “The coast is clear.”

Like silent ghosts, they all slipped out into the hallway, one by one. Kal closed the door behind him, sealing off the hidden chamber as though it had never been. Ruce led the group down to the first intersection, then cautiously checked the hall it connected with. He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over everyone. Then he nodded, unwilling to make a single unnecessary noise. As a unit, they all moved forward, hearts in their mouths.

The trip back down this section of hall seemed somehow impossibly longer to Kal than it had been when he’d been trying to find his family. He flexed his fingers, brushing them against the grip of the gun hanging holstered at his side. His nerves were balanced on a knife’s edge as they rounded the corner and began to traverse that last, vital section of the hall. After that, they would be out in the open. Kal only hoped luck would favor them and that no one would be there to witness their escape. The hall had seemed to stretch into eternity earlier, when Jen Mai had sent Ruce and Kal on their way. Now, it felt as though it took only two short steps to reach the end. Ruce stopped and peered out into the open expanse of the mansion’s sizable entranceway.

“Guards,” he whispered back. “Let’s wait a moment.”

Kal could hear voices speaking out in the main chamber, but he could not see who spoke them. Ruce pointed; the men were off to the left, hidden behind the wall. Kal tried to listen to what the guards were saying, but he could not make it out as the voices echoed in the vast, open space, the sounds tumbling over one another until they knotted into an unintelligible mess. Another voice cut in, barking orders Kal couldn’t quite catch. He heard the squeaking of wet boots on the floor as the men began to move.

“They’re being sent out, probably to deal with Bil’s men in the south,” Ruce whispered again. “Let’s go, while there’s still time.”

They moved out from their meager shelter, darting across the open floor. With great care and all speed, they made for the door that would take them outside, hopefully beyond the gaze of any of the guards, though Kal didn’t hold much hope for that. Chances were great that the watch on the estate grounds had been doubled, now that Bilan’s men had been discovered. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that all the guards had been sent to the southern end of the estate.

Kal also knew it was only a matter of time before someone noticed what was going on.

They had almost attained the door when Lord Nor came striding down the grand staircase in the middle of the room. He gave a bestial roar as he caught sight of the fleeing captives. Kal’s hand shot to his weapon. He drew it from its holster and pressed it into Ching’s hand, along with his phone.

“Kal? What are you doing?” the crown prince asked.

“Take it. You need it more than I do. Get them out of here, Ching. Please, make sure Lois stays safe. And…tell Dad that I’m sorry.”

Ruce opened his mouth to speak, to take Kal’s place as the diversion. But before he could, Kal pushed the gun and phone firmly into his brother’s hands. Then he ran. Away from his family. Straight towards Nor.

A yell erupted from Kal’s throat as he rushed towards his foe. All of his focus was aimed at the young lord before him. He pushed all thoughts of his family from his mind. He needed a clear head for this battle, more than he’d ever needed it before. Kal ducked his body at the last moment, bending at the waist, and plowed his shoulder directly into Nor’s midsection, driving the air from his lungs. He crashed into Nor with all the force he could muster, and succeeded in sending the man sprawling.

Kal chanced a look back, and saw his family watching, mouths open. “Go!” he ordered them. “Get out while you can!”

Ching seemed indecisive for a split second, but then he nodded and ushered everyone towards the doors. Kal breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to face his old rival.

“You,” Nor said, staggering to his feet and wheezing out the words furiously. “I don’t know who you are, but I will kill you for this.”

Kal opened his mouth to make a retort, but did not get the chance as Nor aimed a blow at his face. The prince barely missed receiving a punch to his jaw. But Nor’s fury had been stoked to levels Kal had never before seen, not from Nor, not from anyone. It made the man even more volatile and unpredictable than normal. Kal recognized that fact too late. But it didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that he keep Nor busy. What mattered was that the people he loved got to safety. Looking at the fire burning in Nor’s eyes, Kal knew it would be nothing short of a miracle if he survived this encounter. He was oddly at peace with that knowledge. He would happily lay down his own life to ensure that the others made it home, safe and sound.

Nor lunged, striking Kal in the center of his chest. The prince staggered back three steps, reeling from the force of the impact. His body exploded into pain from the hit but before he could even wonder if anything was broken, Nor was on him again, tackling him to the ground. The prince felt his bad knee pop and twist into an excruciating position. He could not stifle the sharp cry of pain that bubbled up into his throat and out passed his lips. Kal rolled, trying to get off his back, trying to pin Nor to the ground to subdue him, but the pain in his leg hobbled even that simple movement at first, until Kal funneled all his efforts into it.

The two men tussled on the floor, rolling one over the other again and again in an effort to gain the upper hand. Nor shouted for back-up, but he’d misjudged the placement of his guards. Most of the men had been sent back out into the cold night to keep a lookout for any further intruders. No one came to his aid as he yelled.

Rolling Kal once again onto his back, Nor took advantage of his position to slug Kal in the face. The right lens of the false glasses cracked into a spider-webbing of thin fractures, though it did not shatter. It was the only thing that protected the prince’s face from taking the hit. Nor growled and ripped the frames from Kal’s face, throwing them halfway across the room. His hand flew up to the prosthetic scar above Kal’s eye, hoping to deal some damage to the wound. As his fingers reached the phony scar and touched the rubbery “flesh,” a look of surprise crossed the young nobleman’s face. In the next moment, he was ripping the scar from Kal’s face, heedless of the fact that some of Kal’s actual skin was being removed along with the false skin.

“Kal-El,” Nor said, smirking, as the prince’s face started to become recognizable. “What a pleasant surprise. At least I’ll get to kill you. In fact, I think I’ll kill you last, once my men recapture the rest of your pathetic family. I want you to watch as they suffer and die at my hands.”

“Touch my family again and I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands,” Kal spat back, muscles straining as he sought a way to break Nor’s vice-like grip on him.

But Nor was too strong, even for Kal, and he had a better vantage than the prince did at any rate. He forced the prince’s head up, then smashed it against the marble floor. Stars exploded before Kal’s eyes and his head rang. He managed to reflexively kick out, his knee colliding with Nor’s body, right in his stomach. A look of pain shot across Nor’s face, and Kal took the opportunity he had been given. Shoving aside his own pain, Kal struck out. His fist crashed into Nor’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Both men heard the snap of bone, and Kal wondered if he’d broken his own knuckles in the process as pain shot up the entire length of his arm.

Still, the injury barely slowed the prince’s rival. Despite himself, Kal was, in a strange, remote way, impressed. Nor grabbed Kal by the throat, his grip like steel around the soft, vulnerable flesh. Kal blindly tried to reach for the pocketknife in his pocket, but his angle was bad and he could not reach it. That did not stop him from continuing to try, and Nor was too distracted to notice.

“I could crush your throat right now,” Nor gloated over him. “It wouldn’t take much.” He spoke through gritted teeth against the shattered bones of his lower jaw. His grip tightened a notch to prove his point. “But that would be far too easy on you.”

Again and again, Nor smashed Kal’s head into the hard, solid floor. Kal’s head erupted into a steady stream of agony and his vision faded to flashes of Nor interspersed with flashes of white-hot, searing nothingness. Time seemed to stand still as he tried to fight the abuse his body was suffering, though part of him knew he’d been fighting Nor for only a minute or two, at the most. Kal kept striking out with his fist, pummeling it against Nor, in the man’s face, in his chest, wherever he managed to land a blow, while his other hand kept questing for the knife he had hidden away in his pocket. Darkness encroached on the edges of Kal’s mind. It was a fight just to remain conscious.

At last, Kal worked the pocketknife free and flicked the blade open. With a roar that matched the burst of strength he had worked up against Nor, he pushed his assailant back enough to stop the next attempt to hurl his head into the cold, solid floor. But his vision was hazy with hurt and the darkness that beckoned him to surrender himself. He relied on instinct alone as he slashed with the weapon. It took Nor across his cheek; Kal was rewarded with a hiss of pain, a sharp curse, and a line of torn and bleeding flesh on Nor’s face. Kal stabbed, and only just missed impaling Nor’s left eye.

Nor roared in response to Kal’s actions. With a backhanded swing, he sent Kal’s knife flying. The weapon raced across the smooth floor, spinning as it went, like a child’s toy gone wrong. In the next instant, Nor pulled his own knife. The blade inched closer and closer to Kal’s exposed throat. Kal reached up and grabbed Nor’s wrist, making his grip as tight as he could while wrenching it from side to side, in a desperate attempt to break free from the deadly position he was in, though his vision began to swim in and out of focus. He forced his feet into Nor’s midsection, and attempted to flip the man off him. But his damaged knee buckled at the movement, and Kal bit back a cry of pain.

The prince gave one final twist to Nor’s wrist. He must have hit a nerve, for the lord’s fingers suddenly released their grip on the knife. Nor made an attempt to grab it with his other hand, but Kal was faster and knocked it away to join the pocketknife several feet away on the floor. He didn’t want to use the weapon; the chance was too great that Nor might somehow wrest it from him to use on him again. It wouldn’t take much, as Kal tenuously held on to his rapidly fading consciousness. Again, Nor forced Kal’s head into the marble floor. Kal only just barely held on to consciousness, blacking out for a second before he pulled himself to alertness once more. He managed a weak punch to Nor’s already shattered jawbone.

The punch took the last remnants of Kal’s energy. His injuries were getting the best of him. Nor’s grip fastened about his throat and Kal found that he did not have the strength to fight, though he dearly wanted to. But suddenly, Nor lurched forward. His grip relaxed and his eyes rolled up into his head. His mouth went slack and he keeled over to one side.

That was the last thing Kal saw before his eyes closed and nothingness washed over him.

Above Nor, Lois stood rubbing her elbow. The sheer force she’d used to smash into the back of Nor’s head had been hard enough to jar her entire arm and most of her body. A stinging pain bloomed. But she did not stop to tend to her pain. She bent and retrieved Nor’s gun from where it hung at his side. She trained the barrel on Nor’s unconscious form, just in time. Lux Uthor came rushing down the stairs, mercifully unarmed, Lois could see. She placed her finger on the trigger, and swiveled her eyes back to Lux’s son.

“Not another step,” she threatened. “Or I’ll blow his head off.”

Her voice quavered the slightest bit as she spoke. Her heart was thudding faster than she had ever thought possible. It had been, ever since she had thrown a glance back at Kal, seen him struggling, and made the split-second decision to run back to his aid, before Ching or any of the others noticed her absence. Now, however, her concern lay solely with her husband.

“Kal?” she called to him. “Kal? Come on, answer me. Please, answer me.”

He did not answer, did not stir. Lois fought down the bubble of panic that rose within her. She chanced a glance at his unmoving body, and was relieved to see that his chest still rose and fell with breath, labored though it seemed. Her eyes flickered back to Nor.

“Come now,” Lux said, his voice as smooth as the finest silk. “You don’t really think that you have the guts to pull that trigger, do you? Do you really think I believe it?”

Lux took another measured step forward. Lois met his eyes, her own blazing.

“Care to test that theory?” she said, her voice as cold as the ice and snow beyond the walls of the mansion.

Lux’s hands went up in a gesture of pacification. But he also stopped moving, much to Lois’ relief. She tried to tell herself that she really would kill Nor if she had to, but wasn’t so sure Lux was incorrect in his assessment. She wasn’t made of strong enough stuff to take a life, was she?

“I’m sure we can talk this out,” Lux said. His voice was still soft and steady in an attempt to appease her.

“I’m sure that we can’t,” she shot back.

On the floor in front of her, Nor groaned and began to stir. His eyes flickered open and his hand automatically flew up to touch the tender spot on the back of his head. Lois redoubled her grip on the gun.

“Don’t move,” she hissed. “Not unless you want to die today.”

Nor twisted his head ever so slightly to look at her. He stopped cold when he saw his weapon in her hands and the hardened look on her face. But his eyes were calculating. Lois could see that much at least. She wished Kal would wake up. She needed his help. She felt certain he would know what to do. But he still wasn’t moving at all, his breathing the only outward sign that he was still among the living.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Lois’ heart seized up with dread. This was it. She was about to die, along with Kal. She hadn’t even had the chance to tell him one last time that she loved him. She hadn’t been allowed one final kiss, one she would have committed to memory in every single way. She hadn’t been afforded a farewell. She hadn’t gotten to make love to him one last time. She’d never had the chance to start a family with him. She would never know what it would be like to grow old with him.

All of these regrets seared through her mind in a flash. And yet, she was grateful for all the time she had been given with Kal. She was thankful for the love she’d found with him. She was happy she’d given him a second chance. She was thankful for the way he’d accepted her, as she was, and for all the encouragement he’d given her to be herself.

An involuntary shudder ran up her spine as she listened to the pounding footsteps behind her. But she did not pull her gaze away, did not close her eyes as she awaited the inevitable. She merely moved her vision from Nor’s face to Kal’s. If she was to die, she would do so looking at the man who held her heart; her husband and her best friend.

“I love you, Kal,” she whispered.

“Nobody move!”

Lois’ knees nearly gave way beneath her as she recognized the voice. Bilan Hend’son. She’d only met him a few brief times, but she would know that voice anywhere. Her heart leapt in her throat. They were saved, if indeed it was not too late for her husband.

***

Kal felt himself slogging through a wasteland of darkness that tried to hold him back, as if he were stuck in some thick, invisible sap that weighed down every movement he attempted to make. He was amazed as he completed each step, and simultaneously wondered if he’d have the strength to take another. Yet step after step, he moved forward, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, that gave him the slightest impression of where he was. In fact, the monotony was so intense, so completely uniform that after a while, he began to wonder if he was actually moving at all, or if he was somehow stuck in place, like some unseen treadmill.

Sometimes, he thought he could hear voices in the dark, both male and female alike, but they echoed terribly, like souls shrieking in torment. He thought that he could recognize them, but always, as soon as he got close to remembering where he’d heard them before, the memory would slip away faster than sand through his spread fingers. It frustrated the prince, possibly more than the heaviness that had settled into his limbs, and which threatened to stop him in his tracks. Somehow, he knew that he couldn’t stop. To stop was to admit defeat. To stop was to die.

And he desperately didn’t want to die.

After a while, some of the syrupy thickness in the air seemed to let up. His movements came easier, and he allowed himself a chance to take a deep breath of relief. But he felt so tired from the long battle he’d fought to get to that point. And yet, he could not stop, could not allow death to catch up to him.

For a long time, he wandered in the dark, still lost, still trying to find his way home. He pressed on, searching for any sign of a way out, silently pleading for some shred of evidence that his loved ones were safe. He wasn’t sure how long he waded through the darkness. Hours? Days? Weeks? He couldn’t be sure. Time had no hold in that place. He was aware that time had to have been passing by, but it seemed almost unimportant somehow.

Eventually, he felt his entire body grow lighter, and his feet seemed to lift right off the ground, though there was no way of knowing for sure. No ground could be seen, just as there was no sky, no roof, no indication of what lay above. He felt as though he were floating, up, up, and away to whatever was above him. Kal had one fleeting moment of panic, and he fought the impulse to yell out. But he did not fight the sensation as his body rose. Instead, he found that the higher he rose, the more at peace he felt. He felt relieved too, as if his body were floating to the surface after spending too much time underwater. Up and up he went, faster and faster until at last he felt that surely he could not go any higher. He felt himself break through some invisible barrier, felt it as surely as he would have felt himself coming to the surface in the palace pools during a swim.

Slowly, Kal opened his eyes. He had to blink several times to dispel the haze that lingered before his field of vision, obscuring everything. He found himself looking straight up at a plain white ceiling that seemed oddly familiar, despite the fact that it could have been anywhere. For several long minutes, he merely studied the blank canvas before his eyes, trying to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was Lord Nor’s ugly face scowling down at him as he repeatedly smashed Kal’s head into the cold marble floor of Lux Manor. Another surge of panic bubbled in his chest and seized his heart, but after a few calming breaths, he came to realize that that wasn’t where he was now. Gradually, he became aware of the feather softness beneath him; a warm, comfortable bed. The faint trace of laundry detergent still clung to the sheets gently draped over his body. He took comfort in that knowledge. It meant he wasn’t in immediate danger of being killed, or dying some horrible, painful death.

Kal slowly moved his head to his right, trying to decipher where on Krypton he was. He was greeted with a tightly balled mass of purring orange fur. Kal smiled. Fasa. Which meant that he had to be home, in his own chambers. A wave of relief washed over his body, loosening some of the tension that had been steadily building back up within him.

Beyond the sleeping cat, Kal could see the large windows in the chamber. It was the dead of night, that he could see at first glance. It had been dark when he and Ruce had implemented their prison break plan. But as Kal continued to look, he noticed that something was off. The night didn’t look quite right to him. The moons were the wrong shapes. And the stars were in the wrong positions. There was no way this was the same night.

Gingerly, Kal moved his head to the left. Pressure was building in his skull, making it feel as if it were stuffed full of cotton, and there was a deep, dull ache that seemed to emanate from the very center of his brain. His head felt enormous, as big as the very palace he lived in. He shut his eyes against the sensation, even as he lolled his head to the side. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. His heart caught in his throat.

Lois.

His wife was sitting in a chair that was pushed up against the bed. She was slumped forward, her upper torso sprawled across the thick emerald green comforter. Her arms were crossed beneath her head and her face was turned towards him. A lock of dark brown hair spilled over her face, obscuring one closed eye. She was breathing evenly, fully immersed in the realm of sleep, her lips slightly parted. But even in sleep, there were lines of worry creasing her face, though Kal thought he’d never seen so beautiful a sight in all his life.

A huge smile curved Kal’s lips and the last bit of fear his heart had been harboring vanished instantaneously. Lois was safe. She was home, with him. And she did not appear to be injured in any way. Gently, Kal moved his arm, noticing for the first time the various intravenous lines and wires that ran into the back of his left hand and his inner elbow, with one running down to his finger to a device that was monitoring his heart rate. He chose to ignore the tangle of plastic that was attached to him for the time being. He needed to touch his wife, needed it as much as he needed air to breathe.

Slowly, delicately, he raised his hand, keeping it only an inch or two above the bed sheets, and reached out to her. At last, he attained his goal. His hand brushed her soft cheek, felt the warmth of her perfect skin. At his touch, Lois stirred sleepily. Her eyes fluttered open even as her brow crinkled in confusion over what had awoken her. As her eyes focused, her gaze unerringly found his and a smile erupted over her face.

“Kal!” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as the fear and tension melted out of her features. “Thank Rao! I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

“It’ll take more than a fight with Nor to get rid of me,” he said, smiling at her.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Lois said, as if repeating the words would somehow convey just how relieved she was.

“Me too,” Kal said. “What happened? Are you all right? The others…?”

“Everyone’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m fine.”

She was on her feet in the next second, moving ever closer to him. Carefully, she threaded her arms around his chest and pressed her lips to his. Over and over they kissed, unable to get enough of each other. Fear and sadness died in those kisses, resurrecting hope and happiness in their wake. Kal gently enveloped Lois in his own arms, holding her as closely and securely as possible. He never wanted to have to let go again, never wanted to stop kissing the woman who was his soul mate.

“I love you,” he murmured, over and over, against her lips and between kisses. “I love you.”

At last, however, she pulled away from him, needing a breath. Kal groaned at the loss of her lips on his. Lois cupped his cheek in her hand for a minute, studying his features as if in disbelief that he was awake. Then she smiled again, slipped her hand away from his flesh, and hurried across the room to the doorway.

“Hey!” she called, sticking her head out into the hallway. “Everyone! He’s awake! He’s awake!”

Kal winced against the volume of Lois’ cry. He’d had headaches before, but none quite like this. He wondered how badly he’d been injured in the fight with Nor. At the very least, his right hand was wrapped in a soft cast, and his chest ached with every breath he drew. But his thoughts scattered as, one after another, his family entered the room. Jor-El, Ching, Zara, Jai, even Samm Lyne and Lord Ra. They all filed into his room, each of them looking as though the weight of the world had just been lifted from their shoulders.

“Kal!” Jor-El cried, rushing over to engulf his son in a relieved embrace. “Oh, Kal. I was so worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” Kal said, trying to reassure him. “I’m fine.”

Jor-El did not immediately pull away at Kal’s words. Instead, he continued to hold his son to him. Kal could feel the man’s entire body trembling, could hear the hitch in his breathing as he sought to master his emotions. He patted his father’s back with his good hand, trying to dispel the last of the Supreme Lord’s worries. For a long time, Jor-El merely held him, not saying anything, until at last, he pulled away, allowing the others to hug Kal as well. Kal could see that his father’s eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Zara,” Kal said, as the woman bent to hug him. “Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though Kal could see the flicker of sadness in her eyes at the thought of the child she had so recently lost. “The important question is, how are you feeling?”

Kal tried to shrug, and winced a little as pain shot through his body. “Sore,” he admitted. “And like my head is splitting in two.”

“Here,” Samm said, offering him a small white pill. “Take this. It should help some.”

Kal took the proffered tablet and swallowed it down with a gulp of cold water from a glass that Ching handed him. The iciness of the water stung his parched throat, but the pain was more than welcome. He drained the glass with five large gulps, then handed it back to Ching, giving him a grateful smile.

“How long was I out?” he finally ventured to ask, thinking back to the odd placement of the stars beyond his windows.

“Four days,” Samm said, gently breaking the news to him.

“Four…” Kal closed his eyes and let his voice trail off. He knew that if he’d been unconscious for so long, his wounds must have been grievous indeed. He opened his eyes again. “What happened?”

“Your skull is fractured,” Jor-El said, sitting down in the chair Lois had been sound asleep in. He looked weary enough to fall down where he’d been standing. “And some of the ligaments in your knee were torn.”

“You also managed to fracture some of the bones in your hand,” Samm said.

“Something about slugging Nor so hard that you broke his jaw,” Jai grinned. “Nice work on that, by the way.”

“Uh, thanks. I think.”

“And you have three broken ribs,” Samm said, shaking his head at Jai’s obvious delight in the blow Kal had landed against Nor. “You are one injured young man.”

“We were so worried when you didn’t wake up,” Ching said, and Kal swiveled his eyes to look at his brother. “We thought we might lose you.”

“The injuries to your head are very severe,” Samm continued in a grave voice. “It took us quite a while to stabilize you enough to get you out of Lux Manor. All the scans I did couldn’t tell us much, in terms of whether your brain had suffered any injuries itself. I looked for the obvious signs, and didn’t see any, but sometimes the scans don’t show us everything. And the longer you slept, the more worried we became. It looked more and more like you were going to slip away from us.”

“I’m sorry I put you all through that,” Kal said, his voice sinking to an embarrassed whisper while his cheeks reddened. “I never meant to scare you like that.”

“We’re just happy that you’re okay,” Jai said, patting him on the foot. It was the closest body part within his reach.

“And I’m just happy that you guys made it out of there safely. What happened? I don’t remember anything beyond fighting Nor.”

Kal struggled to sit up a bit, despite the slight incline of his body as the pillows propped him up. But his strength hadn’t yet fully returned, and his limbs turned to liquid as he tried to push himself up. His broken ribs protested the movement as well. Samm put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Easy,” he told the prince. “Try not to move too much. You need to rest up and heal.”

“Okay,” Kal relented, trusting the man. After all, he was a well-respected doctor.

“Well,” Ching said, clearing his throat. “Jai, Ruce, Zara and I all did what you told us to do. We made a beeline for the doors. I didn’t want to leave you behind, Kal, believe me. I’ll regret that for as long as I live.”

“I told you to go,” Kal said, placing the blame for his condition squarely on his own shoulders, where he felt it belonged. “I needed you to get everyone to safety. I thought I could handle Nor on my own.”

Ching nodded. “I knew you were right. I knew Ruce needed my help in clearing the way for Jai, Zara, and Lois to get out of there. I had planned on making sure the coast was clear, then coming back for you. But someone must have raised the alarm, or maybe it was because Bil’s men had been captured. I’m not sure which. The grounds were swarming with guards. Ruce and I wound up having to seek cover while we traded gunfire with Uthor’s men.”

Kal slightly paled. “Are you…were you hurt?”

Ching shook his head. “We’re fine. Ruce took a bullet in his shoulder, but he’s fine. He’s been calling here about every two hours to check on you.”

Kal groaned. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten his friend hurt. “You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Absolutely. Dr. K’lin has been tending to his wound, and Ruce says that Alph is practically hovering over him. It’s driving him crazy, of course. But he’s fine.”

“That’s good,” Kal sighed, giving the tiniest of nods. His head didn’t feel like it could handle any greater movement. “I should call him…let him know…”

“Later,” Samm said. “It’s the middle of the night. And you shouldn’t be exerting yourself in any way.”

“But, it’s not…” Kal began to protest.

“Anyway,” Ching continued, clearing his throat and effectively cutting Kal off, much to the obvious relief of Samm. “Ruce called for backup at that point, knowing that Bil’s men were waiting for our own spies to call them in. In no time, our men had overwhelmed Uthor’s guards. As soon as we could, we went back for you, but Nor had already knocked you completely out. You’re only here right now because of your wife.”

“Lois?” Kal asked, wonderingly. “What do you mean?”

Lois blushed a deep crimson. “He’s exaggerating.”

Ching shook his head. “I’m not,” he told Kal.

“It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” she protested.

“Are you kidding?” Zara asked, beaming proudly at her surrogate sister.

“Your wife slipped away from us during the frenzy,” Jai explained. “She took advantage of the fact that we were preoccupied with sneaking out of the place. We didn’t notice she was gone until we ducked for cover during the gunfight.”

“I couldn’t just leave you to fight Nor all on your own,” Lois said, her words spilling out in a rush.

Kal arched his eyebrow at her. “What did you do?” His voice held only curiosity, mixed with a pinch of amusement, but no real surprise. He didn’t think Lois could do anything to surprise him anymore.

“I went back for you,” she admitted. “I knocked Nor out before he could kill you.”

“She did more than that!” Jai proudly crowed. “She took his gun and trained it on him. She threatened to kill him if Lord Uthor made any attempt to get near you.”

“Jai!” Lois admonished, clearly uncomfortable.

“Aw, come on,” Jai whined. “Take credit for what you did. You’ve got guts, sis. Real, hardcore guts.” He gave her a brilliant grin and patted her shoulder affectionately.

“I probably wouldn’t have actually pulled the trigger, you know,” Lois shot back gently, still unsure if that was actually true.

Jai shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You made Lux believe you would, long enough for our guys to get in there and make the arrest. Face it, sis. You’re a hero…or…heroine, I guess is the correct word.”

“Lois,” Kal said, shaking his head with infinite care, so as not to aggravate his wounds. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could have been hurt…or worse.”

Lois shrugged. “I didn’t really make a conscious decision to do it,” she confessed. “I just sort of…reacted. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Kal sighed. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you either,” he said. “Any of you. That’s why I snuck out of the palace to come and rescue you.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, collecting his energy. He was so tired, but he had so much more to learn and say. He simply refused to sleep again, not just yet. He’d slept for days already. “What about Bil’s men? Did they…did they get out safely?”

Samm and Jor-El exchanged a weighted look. Neither one seemed willing to speak.

“They were hurt,” Zara finally said, stepping up to the plate when no one else spoke. Her voice took on a low, soothing tone, so as not to upset her brother-in-law.

“How badly?”

Zara swallowed hard, uncomfortable now. “Worse than you. But they’re alive and they’ll heal.”

“It’s my fault,” Kal whispered.

“No, it isn’t,” Jor-El said, taking his son’s hand tenderly in his own, and giving it a small, gentle squeeze.

“Yes, it is,” Kal insisted. “It was my plan, to send people in covertly. And I was right there when Bil’s men got caught. I should have done…I don’t know…something…to protect them, or to get them out of there.”

“No,” Jor-El said again, smiling softly at him. “If you had, you would have been captured too, and then where would we all be? Hmmm? You would all be prisoners…or worse.”

Kal shook his head silently, guilt and shame welling up within him. His father might have been right, but the prince was unable to feel anything but responsible for whatever injuries the other men had suffered. He had been right there. He’d wanted to help. But he hadn’t. It was as simple as that, to his mind.

“You have an incredibly brave daughter, Samm,” he said instead, trying to force his thoughts away from the dark, brooding place they were heading.

“I know,” the older man said, nodding. “I’m proud of her.” His hand was resting atop Lois’ shoulder in a loving manner.

The admission brightened Kal’s dark mood considerably. At least Samm had changed his mind about how he viewed Lois, and the unconventional actions that she so often committed. He hoped the change in Samm would promote some healing between father and daughter. He thought that maybe it already had, as he saw Lois fairly beam with pride at her father’s words.

“Where are Elle and Luci?” Kal asked, noticing for the first time that the two women were not present.

“In the guest chambers, sound asleep,” Samm said. “Neither one has gotten much sleep since the abduction. And when you were brought in with such grievous injuries…” he shrugged. “I thought it best if they sleep now, since they were finally able to. I’ll let them know that you are awake soon enough.”

Kal nodded. “All right.”

“Speaking of sleep, you need to rest,” the doctor added.

“I will,” he promised. “But not just yet. Samm? Do I really need all these wires and whatnot anymore?” He gestured helplessly at the tangle of tubes and wires, and the various machines they were attached to. “I feel kind of like a robot.”

Samm nodded, then proceeded to remove most of the plastic that was attached to Kal. Only one intravenous line he left in, as it was delivering a steady dose of medication to the prince’s beaten and battered body. Kal felt better and better as the lines vanished from sight. He’d always had a healthy hatred of needles and medical machinery.

Kal sighed, relieved that he only had the one small needle in his flesh now. “Thanks, Samm.”

“You’re welcome,” the doctor smiled.

“Could you guys give me a few minutes alone with Dad?”

Heads nodded and Kal heard various murmurs of agreement. One by one, everyone left the room. Lois was the last to go, throwing a glance over her shoulder at him as she went, as if he might disappear in a puff of smoke if she took her eyes off him even for a second. He gave her the slightest of nods, letting her know that he wanted her to come back to the room when he was done speaking with his father. Now that he had her back, he was unwilling to let her leave his sight for long.

Jor-El remained seated at his son’s bedside, his features still taut with his lingering concerns for Kal. Kal gave him a little smile, hoping to alleviate some of that worry. But now that he was alone with his father, the prince found himself lost as to where to begin. He groped for words in his mind, which was still slightly foggy with a persistent haze of pain, though the pill Samm had given him had already done wonders for him. His head was no longer splitting in two. Now, only a concert of drums was playing within the walls of his skull.

“So…” Kal said after a moment. It was a weak way to begin, but he could find no other words. “I guess I have two questions. How mad are you? And…when did you discover that I was missing?”

Jor-El sighed quietly, expelling one long breath in a thoughtful manner. “It was probably about an hour and a half, maybe two hours after you went to your chambers. Word had spread around the palace that we were in lock-down mode. Marthe went to your rooms to bring up some food for you. Your guards knew she was cleared to enter your chambers, and when you did not answer after she knocked, she knew something was wrong. She and the guards went into your rooms, only to find that you were not there. She came to me in a panic.”

“I can’t imagine what you must have thought,” Kal said guiltily.

Jor-El smiled wryly at him. “Call me crazy, but I knew immediately what had happened. I knew in my heart that no one had snuck in to smuggle you away. I knew you’d gone to help. I should have known better than to trust that you’d stay in your chambers, from the very beginning. But I was so wrapped up in…everything that was going on at the time. I never stopped to think about how stubborn you can be when you are set on a goal.”

“Am I that predictable?” Kal asked, mildly surprised that Jor-El was blaming himself for Kal’s actions.

The Supreme Lord nodded. “Only when you are that committed to a cause. It’s an admirable quality, and one I hope you never lose.”

“Dad,” Kal said after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry. You gave me direct orders to stay within my chambers. I went and deliberately disobeyed you. You were right to want to try to protect me. It was selfish of me to go out there…to risk leaving Krypton without an heir to the throne. To risk leaving you childless. But…I couldn’t just sit by, doing nothing. I mean, I tried. I really did. But I couldn’t do it. I never meant to worry you. You must be furious with me. And disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Jor-El asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Well…yeah,” Kal said, confused over his father’s calm reaction thus far. “I almost got myself killed out there. I didn’t save Bil’s men when I had the chance. And I flat-out ignored your warnings not to go on the rescue mission myself.”

“Oh, Kal,” Jor-El said, shaking his head, a smile playing across his lips. “It’s true I was terrified for you. But, I think that, all things considered, you did what you needed to do. What we all needed you to do. It doesn’t mean that I’m thrilled with it. Far from it. I wish only that I could have protected you. But, you were right in saying that Bilan’s men probably weren’t the best suited for the mission. They acted rashly and they got themselves caught. But, if it hadn’t been for you…you and Ruce…maybe the others wouldn’t be here right now. They told me all about Lux’s plans,” the Supreme Lord continued.

“Plans?” Kal asked. “I didn’t…there wasn’t enough time to ask. Does that have anything to do with how scared Jai was when I got to him?”

The Supreme Lord nodded. “It is. Lux and his sons never planned on letting Ching and Jai live, even if we had surrendered our claim to the throne. You were right about that. But they still planned on holding their lives above us, if we failed to allow them to bully us into submission. Lux ordered Jai to be the first one killed if we didn’t relent our positions.”

“That would explain it,” Kal said thoughtfully. “And Lois and Zara?”

“Zara was to be given over to Nor as a concubine…or killed. It was left up to him,” Jor-El said, frowning. “And Lux planned to kill you and take Lois as his own wife.”

The words slapped Kal like actual blows to his face. He fought down a surge of bile that rose unexpectedly into the back of his mouth. To imagine that…that sadistic criminal being married to Lois was enough to make Kal ill.

“No,” Kal said, horrified. “No.”

“It’s all right,” Jor-El said soothingly. “Lux and his sons are safely locked away in the city jail, under heavy guard. They cannot so much as sneeze without us knowing about it.”

“And Jen Mai?” Kal asked. “He was there, at Lux Manor. I saw him. Did we get him too?” He feared that the Elder might have somehow gotten away. One of the man’s strengths was slipping away, unobserved, whenever he needed to fade into the background.

Jor-El nodded. “We got him too. He made a bargain with Bil to give us as much information as we could possibly want.”

“In exchange for…?” Kal knew the man was up to something. Ever the opportunist, Jen Mai wasn’t likely to give away anything without looking for something in return.

“Life,” Jor-El said. “He knows he’ll be charged with treason. And he knows he’ll be facing a death sentence.”

“So he gives us all the information he knows, and in return, he gets to live out his days in prison,” Kal said, finishing his father’s thought.

“Exactly. Provided, of course, that the rest of the Elders are willing to be lenient during the trial and sentencing.”

“What’s there to know that we don’t already?” Kal asked. He could not fathom what other information the Elder could possibly have. “Was there more to the Uthors’ plot?”

“Not exactly,” his father said. “But Jen Mai was privy to a lot of Lux’s dealings. He says that the missing women from the Uthors’ estate were killed, and their bodies vaporized.”

“Which is why we never found them,” Kal said, understanding immediately.

“Right. He also swears that Ara Caln did not die of natural causes. He insists that Lux poisoned his late wife.”

“But the medical reports stated…” Kal began to protest in confusion. He wondered at himself for a moment. Had he actually almost defended that monster?

Jor-El nodded. “I know what they said,” he said quietly. “But remember, there are toxins out there that can simulate a heart attack and can dissipate to nothingness within minutes. They are rare, and incredibly expensive, but, well, that was never an issue for Lux.” There was regret in his voice, at having been duped so thoroughly over the years of Lux’s feigned friendship. There was sadness mixed in his tone and features as well.

Kal nodded ever so slightly at his father’s words, mindful of his head injuries, as the puzzle pieces all slid into place in his mind. It made sense, on some twisted level, that Lord Uthor had murdered his own wife. Ara Caln had always been an independent, opinionated woman. It was the reason why her marriage to Lux had fallen into shambles so easily. And, Kal realized with a shudder, it was probably what had gotten her killed. Lux hated to look bad in any way. And Ara had, on a few occasions, argued with him in public, throwing less than flattering light on some of the proposals he’d made.

With a sinking feeling, Kal knew that everything he loved about Lois would have gotten her killed as well, if Lux had taken her for a wife.

“So…what now?” Kal asked, carefully steering his thoughts away from the path of what might have been.

“There will be a trial, of course,” Jor-El said. “We didn’t start it just yet because I could not bear to be parted from you. And neither could the others. We’ve barely left your chambers since you were brought home.”

“So…you guys have been camped out in my living room this whole time?” Kal asked with a playful grin.

Jor-El laughed. “Basically, yes. I think your cat has enjoyed the company though. At least, he hasn’t made any complaints.”

Kal laughed at that. He reached over and petted the tabby’s head. Fasa stirred, opened one eye, looked at Kal, and promptly yawned before going back to sleep.

“Now that you are on your way to recovering, we can figure out when to hold this trial,” Jor-El continued, easily switching gears to a more serious note again.

“Right,” Kal agreed. “Of course.”

He was in no hurry to see the trial begin. He knew exactly how it would play out. He knew exactly how it would end. Lux and his sons would be found guilty of high treason; there was no way they could prove that what they had done wasn’t treason. They would have to be insane to even try. And they would be sentenced to die.

Kal had seen it before, on two or three occasions when there had been a need to try murderers, for the sentence was exactly the same. The convicted men would be placed in a machine that would break down their bodies, and their molecules would be dispersed over the universe, and to all of the countless galaxies held within it. It wasn’t a pleasant way to die, if indeed there was a pleasant way for one’s life to be cut short.

And as much as Kal despised the Uthor family, he did not wish to witness their execution. He never wanted to bear witness to anyone’s life coming to such a horrid end, no matter what they had done to warrant the punishment. But he also knew that even if he were to petition for a sentence of life in prison, the Elders wouldn’t likely agree to it. He would try, if he could. At the very least, he could try to convince Ching or Jai to petition the Elders on his behalf, though he wasn’t sure how much luck he might have with that. Though both of his brothers hated the use of the death penalty as much as he did, Kal wondered if their stance on the matter might not have been skewed now that their own lives had been in peril. In fact, Kal felt his own conviction about the death penalty slipping ever so slightly from his normally staunch position on the subject.

“You don’t have to attend, if you aren’t up to it,” Jor-El said, frowning as Kal went silent.

Kal shrugged. “We’ll see,” he answered in a non-committal way.

“Kal,” Jor-El said again, his voice going soft and low. “I want you to know something. I want you to know how very, very proud I am of you. And…I’m sorry. More than you will ever know.”

“Sorry?” Kal gaped, caught off-guard. “I went and did everything you told me not to do. I’m the only one who needs to be sorry here.”

Kal could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d expected to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for the shame and terror he’d put his father through. And now, with the dust of his betrayal settling, his father was instead praising him? Kal couldn’t have been more shocked if his father broke out into a song and dance routine right there in his bedroom.

The Supreme Lord nodded. “It’s true that you went against my commands. And I wish it hadn’t needed to happen that way. But, I should have listened to you, when you first told me of your plan.”

Kal shook his head, just barely enough for the movement to be seen. “No, you were right.”

“No,” Jor-El said, “I wasn’t. If I had listened to you, I could have ensured that you went in there with the proper backup. If I had, perhaps you wouldn’t have been hurt. I should have anticipated that you’d find a way to sneak out.”

“Dad…”

“There is something else,” his father gently cut in.

Kal raised one questioning eyebrow. He couldn’t begin to guess at what else his father might have to tell him. At least, he reasoned to himself, it couldn’t possibly be any more shocking than what Jor-El had already told him. Could it?

“I thought you should know…before I approach the Elders. But…Kal, I plan to invoke a very ancient law. One that has not been used in well over five hundred years. I see no reason why the Elders would seek to block it with what power they wield.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” Kal asked.

He tried to think of every obscure law he knew of, but his head felt too cloudy to think straight. He could only force himself to be aware of the fact that Krypton had laws, but he remained unable to call to mind anything more complicated than the most basic of them.

“I plan to name both Ching and you as my heirs. Officially. When I die, you will both be raised to the role of Supreme Lord,” his father said in a solemn voice.

Kal’s mouth opened, but he could not speak. He felt shell-shocked. Dimly, he wondered if he had heard right. It couldn’t possibly be. He was the second son. He was never meant to be the Supreme Lord. His role was to subtly support Ching when he became the Supreme Lord.

“Does Ching know?” Kal finally asked, his strangled voice coming out an octave higher than was normal. For some reason, that was the only one of the thousand questions that were swirling around his clouded mind to actually make it onto his tongue.

Jor-El nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “He does. If it were up to him, he would have already brought the matter before Trey and the rest of the Elders.”

“I’m…I’m not…really sure what to say,” Kal stammered, groping for words as he went. “I’m not really sure that I’m right for the job.”

“Kal, I have watched you grow from a helpless newborn into a strong, kind, and compassionate man,” Jor-El said gently. “I know, without a doubt, that you are perfect for leading this planet. A good leader leads not through commands, but by example. You have never asked anyone to do anything that you yourself would not do. A good ruler doesn’t favor one tier of society over another. You care not just for the nobility of this planet, but for all the people, down to the lowliest of the commoners. A true leader doesn’t always do the popular thing. He does the right thing, no matter what. He listens to both his head and his heart when making important decisions. I have seen all these things in you. Trust me, Kal. You will be one of Krypton’s greatest leaders. Ching will be as well, but I believe that you will surpass him.”

“Even if that were true,” Kal started to say.

“It is,” Jor-El gently cut in.

“Even so,” Kal tried again. “Is it really wise to have two Supreme Lords?”

“It’s true that not many rulers have chosen to invoke that law,” his father said, running a hand through his hair. “But I believe the planet will benefit from both of you stepping up to the role. You and Ching are so likeminded, it’s as if you share one brain.” He smiled gently at Kal. “And, just as importantly, you bring balance to one another. Ching is a lot more…well, ‘by the books’ than you are, though you’re more opened-minded attitude is sometimes exactly what is needed. Your rashness is tempered by Ching’s sometimes too restrictive self-discipline. Your brother has a mind for the more of the specifics of the law and for the logistics surrounding a situation. You are more likely to listen to what your heart tells you. And that is sometimes what needs to happen in a situation. Remember when that young kid came looking for a job? The one you sent to train for the palace security staff?”

“Of course I do. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Jor-El smiled again. “Ching admitted to me later that he’d be concerned with whether or not we really needed another member of our security staff. But you…you saw not only the chance to placate Bil, but also the opportunity to give someone the chance they so desperately needed. Krypton needs people like you and Ching to lead it. And…there is one other thing.”

“What?”

“There is a bond between you and the people, unlike any I’ve ever heard about. Oh, I hear the buzz and the gossip, the pulse of this planet. The people love Ching, that is true enough. But they have an affinity for you that goes beyond their love for Ching. You’ve never held back anything when dealing with the masses, especially with the commoners. So, yes, I think that having two Supreme Lords is just what Krypton needs.”

“I…I’m honored,” Kal said, his voice choking up slightly. No other words came to him.

“You should rest now,” the Supreme Lord said, standing. “You need to let your injuries heal.”

“I will,” Kal said, feeling himself growing ever more tired, though he shoved the feelings away. “Can you tell Lois to come in, please?”

Jor-El nodded, unwilling to deny his son anything. Kal desperately needed to rest, that much was true. But, he had only just returned from where he had been teetering on the brink of death. The Supreme Lord would not - could not - ask Kal to wait to have a private word with his wife.

“Absolutely,” he said, smiling at his son.

He turned to leave the bedroom, but Kal stopped him before he could take more than three steps.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can you hand me Lois’ necklace, please?” He gestured vaguely to where he’d left it before he’d went on his rescue mission. “I promised myself that I would return it to her once I found her.”

Jor-El smiled. He quickly scanned Kal’s room until he saw the diamond star sitting atop the dresser. He crossed to where it was, plucked it gently from where it was resting, and placed it in Kal’s waiting hand.

“Thanks,” Kal said.

Jor-El nodded, but did not speak. Instead, he turned and quietly left the bedroom. Kal sighed as he subtly shifted his body, settling himself deeper into the pillows that were supporting him as he lay in his bed. He closed his eyes for the span of four heartbeats, enjoying the sensation of being home, in his own chambers, knowing that his loved ones were safe and sound, knowing that the threat to them was truly over. Kal felt that he could not be more grateful, nor could he ask for any greater gift.

Taking a deep breath, and fighting off the sleep that was steadily encroaching on him, he opened his eyes. A moment later, Lois appeared in his doorway. Kal smiled at her, encouraging her to come closer. His wife’s face blossomed into a smile as well, and she swept into the room, until she was at his bedside. He patted the mattress when she made a move to sit in the chair. She took the hint and sat instead on the bed next to him. Kal shuffled over slightly, allowing her to have more room. The movement jostled Fasa, who blinked unhappily at his master before indignantly jumping down and leaving the room. Kal chuckled and carefully threaded his left arm around Lois’ waist, mindful of the single intravenous line that snaked out from his skin.

“Hey,” he said, smiling gently at her.

“Hey yourself,” Lois smiled back.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, the words catching in his throat. “You shouldn’t have attacked Nor.”

“I had no choice,” she protested, though her voice was soft and low. “He was going to kill you, Kal.”

“I know,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m grateful that you saved my life. I really am. But…well, if he had hurt you, I never would have forgiven myself. Still…thank you, for saving me.”

“Hey, we’re even,” Lois teased him gently. “I seem to remember you risking your life to break me out of that cell.” She shuddered involuntarily.

Kal gave her a shallow shrug, and winced at the slight stab of pain that ran through his broken ribs. “Funny thing about that. It seems that I don’t take well to having the love of my life kidnapped.”

Lois giggled at him, a light, airy sound that melted Kal’s heart. “Hmm. That is interesting,” she teased again.

“Shocking, I know,” Kal grinned. “But, in all seriousness, I need you to know something.”

“What’s that?” A line of concern flickered across her brow.

“You didn’t just save my life when you attacked Nor. You saved my life the moment you entered it. I was nothing before I met you. You’ve given my life meaning. You’ve given me a reason to believe in love. Thank you.”

“Kal,” Lois breathed, her voice hitching in her throat. “I don’t know what to say. Except…you did the same thing for me. From the moment we met, you’ve encouraged me to be who I am. You’ve empowered me. You’ve given me a reason to love life. You’ve given me a reason to trust in love. For so long, I didn’t believe that love truly existed. I mean, look at the family I came from. I thought it was the normal thing, for two people to barely tolerate each other. But you proved to me that that is the exception to the rule, and not the norm. So, thank you, for saving my life, in every single way.”

“Here,” Kal said, placing her necklace into her hands, after his words once again threatened to fail him. “I promised myself I would return this to you.”

Lois’ face brightened even further. It was clear she hadn’t realized Kal had been in possession of the piece of jewelry. But then again, it had been half-buried among various vials of what Kal could only assume were the medications Samm had been administering to him.

“My necklace!” Lois exclaimed, breathlessly. “I’d thought for sure it was lost forever.”

Kal shook his head, the movement the barest minimum needed for it to be seen. “It was on the ground right where you and the others had been standing, out in the snow,” he explained.

“Thank you,” Lois said, tearing her eyes from the gem to meet her husband’s gaze.

“We’ll have to get you a new chain,” he said, gesturing to the broken silver links.

“It can wait,” Lois replied, brushing a lock of Kal’s hair from his brow. She placed a soft kiss in the exact spot she had just cleared. “First, you have to get well. Oh, Kal, I can’t even begin to tell you how afraid I was that I might lose you.”

He smiled gently, and reached up slowly to brush his fingertips over her cheek. “I’m fine now, really. A little worse for wear, but I’ll be fine. Your father has made sure of that. All of this,” he gestured vaguely to his wounds, “is only temporary. What matters is that you and I are here…safe, and happy, and together. And that we always will be.”

“Daddy’s barely slept since you were brought home,” she said, nodding.

“And I’m thankful for all he did,” Kal agreed, pulling his hand from her face and dropping it wearily back down to rest on the comforter.

“The whole planet has been in a state of near-mourning,” Lois confided in him. “Ever since that night.”

Kal’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

His wife nodded. “Word got out about the rescue and your involvement, almost as soon as Bil’s team made the arrests. Your father was forced to make an official statement, to dispel the rumors that were flying about. People have been keeping vigil over the palace, as though just by being here, they could…I don’t know. Will some strength into you, maybe?”

“Wow,” Kal said, floored.

He hadn’t expected that. Some part of his mind wondered what other surprises the night would bring. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more, at least not until he had some rest.

“Here, let me show you.”

Lois picked up a small, portable video screen. She fiddled for a moment with the device, until she brought up the closed-circuit security cameras. Squinting at the numerous boxes that appeared on screen, she finally selected one which showed the view outside the palace walls. Then she held it up so that Kal could see.

Thousands of people stood beyond the walls, a sea of faces so densely packed it was difficult to see where one body ended and another began. Some were holding their children close to them. Some had their heads bent to one another, their lips moving in unheard conversation. Some, Kal thought, appeared to be wiping at their eyes. Most were silent, gazing intently at the palace where their injured prince lay.

Entire legions of military officers stood at attention, their silent, stoic presence keeping order without the need for words. And cutting the crowd, in three spots that Kal could see, long aisles stood open wide. Kal watched as a family of six made their way down the open walkway, all the way up to the very front of the crowd. There they stopped, and each one of them lit a candle before placing it reverently on the ground. The youngest, a girl of perhaps four or five, placed down a single flower as well. Intrigued, Kal reached towards the small screen, and selected a different view of the crowd.

His breath caught in his throat as he sucked in a rush of air. Stretching out in every direction, the scene at the walls and gates was the same. Lit candles and small tokens lay there, the merry flames lighting up the night. If fire truly could cure injuries, Kal felt certain that the amount of candles standing vigil in the dark would have easily cured every hurt anyone had ever experienced in all of Krypton’s history.

He was instantly humbled at the outpouring of support that he saw on the screen. And yet, it made him uncomfortable at the same moment. He was more than content to be the man in the shadows, the one who stayed to one side while others basked in the limelight. Being the center of attention, even in a scenario like this, always made him ill at ease.

“Wow,” he breathed again, trying to form a coherent thought. With all he’d learned that night, he felt as if his head was about to explode. “Please, no more,” he begged. “No more.”

Lois obliged in turning the device off. “The people love you, Kal. Not that it’s so hard to see why.”

Kal shook his head. “Those people should be home, where it’s warm and comfortable. Please, have Dad tell them I’m all right, so they can stop their vigil. I appreciate the support, but they shouldn’t be milling about in the cold.”

“All right,” she agreed. Then, it seemed a new thought struck her. “Are you hungry?” she suddenly asked.

With a start, Kal realized that he hadn’t eaten in days. Even before he’d been injured and lost to the black void he’d wandered in as he’d fought to live, he’d barely touched any food. His stomach let out a low rumble in response, but he was getting so tired now that he didn’t think he’d be able to summon enough energy to chew. And, he suspected, one of the bags hanging from the pole with his intravenous line had to be providing his body with some form of nutrition.

“A bit,” he answered truthfully. “But I’m more exhausted than anything. I don’t think I could chew anything.”

“What about some soup?”

Kal nodded again, a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I think I could do that.”

“I’ll be right back,” she promised him, as she slipped out of his embrace.

In another moment, she was gone, out of the room. Kal felt lonely as he waited for her to return. Involuntarily, his eyes closed, and he dozed for a short time. But it was a light sleep, and before long, he fully reawakened as he heard Lois coming back into the room. She had a small tray in her hands. Kal inhaled deeply through his nose. He smiled when he caught the unmistakable aroma of his favorite soup.

“Hey. Did I wake you?” Lois asked.

“Not really,” Kal replied. “I was sort of in a light doze. Besides, I’d rather be awake and with you. I can sleep any time. Being with you is far better medicine.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, smiling at him.

She brought the tray over to the bed, then carefully climbed back up to sit atop the comforter. She placed the tray on her lap, and a healthy plume of fragrant steam wafted up past her face. She dipped the spoon into the broth, then brought it to Kal’s lips. Kal eagerly ate what she offered up, savoring the comforting taste of shredded meats and vegetables before swallowing it down.

“I could get used to this,” he smirked at her, causing her to laugh. “A beautiful woman, tending my every need…” he let his voice trail off as he winked at her.

Lois snorted back another laugh. “You don’t need to be hurt in order to have that,” she retorted with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Kal chuckled. “That’s true.” He ate another spoonful of soup.

The food was quite good, one of the tastiest renditions Jon Ken had ever created. Although, Kal thought to himself, he couldn’t be sure that wasn’t just because he was happy to be alive and able to eat anything at all. Or if the added layer of flavor didn’t come just from the fact that his wife was there, tenderly feeding it to him as he recuperated from his injuries.

He accepted spoonful after spoonful from her. After savoring the first few mouthfuls, his appetite exploded and he all but wolfed down the remaining food. Finally feeling somewhat sated, he sighed and lay his head back, gingerly, so as not to aggravate his injuries. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Lois stood and set the tray off to one side.

“You should sleep,” she said, bending and kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his lips.

“Stay with me?” Kal asked, when she started to move away from the bed. “Please?”

“All right,” she said, just as unwilling to part from him.

Carefully, she lowered herself back down to lay beside him on the bed. Delicately, she arranged the intravenous line that was hooked into his arm so that it would not be in any danger of being tugged loose as she snuggled up beside him. She finally lay still, her body pressed tightly against his, and she let out a sigh. Kal echoed her as his world was finally fully put right again, like the final piece of a vast, complicated puzzle being locked into place. His wife was once more at his side, safe and unharmed. He took comfort from her even breathing, and his hand grasped hers. As always, their fingers intertwined without the need for conscious thought. His thumb ran over the side of her hand, reveling in the soft touch of her flesh.

“Kal?” she said softly.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lois.” Kal’s grin overtook his entire face.

“I can’t wait until you’re healed completely,” she murmured.

“Me too,” he agreed. “On the upside, however, I’ll probably be able to take some time off from my duties around the palace.”

“Probably?” Lois asked, her voice taking on the same wry edge his had taken.

“Well,” Kal began, now turning serious. “I guess Dad didn’t tell you the news, huh?”

Beside him, Lois shook her head. “What news?”

“Dad’s planning to officially name me as his heir. Along with Ching,” he clarified.

“So one day…”

“Ching and I will both be Supreme Lord. And you’ll be Supreme Lady.”

“That’s…” she fumbled for words, her mouth open in shock. “Congratulations, Kal. You’ll be an excellent ruler. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he said, still feeling somehow unworthy of the appointment. “But, well, I’ll only be a good leader because I’ll have you at my side. You’ve helped make me the man that I am, Lois.”

She shook her head again. “No, that’s not true. You were a ‘one in a billion’ kind of man well before I ever met you.”

“No, Lois,” he said, speaking earnestly. “You’ve changed me, ever since the day we met. I’m a better person because of you.”

“I think the medicines are affecting your mind,” Lois teased him.

Kal chuckled. “Despite the fact that my head feels stuffed with cotton, I’ve never thought so clearly before.”

Lois twisted in his arms, flashing him a brilliant smile. She kissed his lips, and he responded, almost hungrily. As their tongues danced to that most ancient of tunes, Kal felt as though Lois’ love alone would cure his ailments. He felt stronger already.

After a time, they broke from their kisses. Kal’s entire body was abuzz with the warmth and comfort that Lois’ show of love had infused his body with. He lay back into his pillows, feeling breathless from the intensity of their kisses and the powerful emotions they invoked. Next to him, Lois settled back down, and Kal silently encouraged her to snuggle closer. She obliged and laid her head on his shoulder, while he wrapped his arm carefully around her body. She sighed in contentment, and Kal did the same, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

Completely at peace for the first time since Lois and the others had been captured, Kal surrendered himself to the realm of blissful sleep.

***

Months passed by, each one bringing Kal further and further from his injuries. Lois’ family stayed on at the palace for a long time, with Samm fretting over the prince’s health, despite the fact that Kal only got stronger with each passing day. Normally, Kal would have complained about the constant worry over his recovery. But not this time. This time, he willingly submitted himself to Samm’s daily check-ups without a word of protest. Head injuries were not to be taken lightly. And, more importantly, it appeased Lois, who fussed over and worried about his wounds even more than the good doctor did.

Once Kal was feeling stronger, he had undergone an operation on his severely damaged knee, with Samm correcting the problems within the joint. The recovery process was slow, leaving Kal frustrated that he couldn’t do all of the physical activities he enjoyed - sparring with his brothers, going for a run, playing sports. And yet, he still did not complain. He was alive. His family was alive. And that was all that truly mattered to the prince. His temporary discomfort and limitations were a small price to pay for that knowledge. Besides, Samm had been able to correct some of the lingering issues from the previous injury to his knee. And once the joint was fully healed, Samm was all but certain that the knee would no longer trouble the prince, no matter how hard he worked it.

Lois seemed to enjoy the fact that her family was around - a stark change to how she normally seemed to view such close proximity to her parents. But, ever since Kal had come out of the coma he’d slipped into at Lux Manor, he’d noticed a dramatic change in the Lyne family dynamic. Samm no longer attempted to control anything his daughters did or said. Kal even saw him encouraging them on a few occasions. Elle had mostly stopped her criticisms, from what Kal could tell, though she still rivaled Lois in her ability to speak a mile-a-minute without pausing for breath. And Luci had become rather close with Jai, forming a close friendship with the half-prince.

Kal smiled to himself as he thought of his younger brother. Jai had become almost another person since the abduction. He’d become more serious, more attentive to ruling the planet. Whereas the half-prince had once avoided the main hall on the days when petitioners came to the palace, seeking help and justice, he now regularly attended. The Elders hadn’t been thrilled at first, but a sharp word from Jor-El had silenced any further grumbling. Jai never spoke much during those long hours at court, but he had admitted to Kal that he was still getting used to all that went into those days.

And, Kal knew with certainty, Jai had forsaken the palace concubines. That had been the biggest surprise out of all of the changes he’d witnessed in his brother. Though Lois had told him of Jai’s half-pledge, half-prayer while locked way in Lux Manor, Kal had harbored his severe doubts that the half-prince would ever truly stick to his promise. But Jai had done it, and Jor-El had dismissed the women the palace had once kept on staff. Ever since Lara’s death, the Supreme Lord had taken no joy in the professional care givers, and now that none of his sons sought out their services, there was no reason to continue keeping them on staff. Most of the women had gone on to work for other noblemen. Some had taken the opportunity to pursue other careers. Nita, one of Jai’s favorites, had gone on to marry one of the young chefs who worked in the palace kitchen, and now worked alongside her new husband. Catira G’rat had gone on to work for Arta Ch’w, who had recently become the third wealthiest nobleman on the planet, now that Lux Uthor no longer held the title. Kal had even heard rumors that the two had hit it off so well, that it looked likely that Catira might soon become Lady Catira Ch’w.

Kal sighed as he looked out over the gardens from his perch high above. He leaned against the railing of his balcony, enjoying the warmth of the early summer sun. Even from that height, the fragrant smell of the various blossoms below wafted up on the warm breeze. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in contentment, letting his mind wander freely.

And yet, as he thought back over the spring and winter months, he still could not help but feel slightly uneasy. He had, out of duty, attended the trials of Lux Uthor, his sons, and all of the members of the Uthor household who had been instrumental in the abduction, as well as that of Jen Mai. The former Elder had proven himself forthcoming with as much information as he knew, his cowardly colors once again showing as he betrayed the Uthors in an effort to save his own life. He had offered up every detail of Lux’s plot - how Lux had come to him, how he’d offered to make Jen Mai the Chief Elder once the planet was under his control. He had admitted to knowing for years of how Lux and his sons had been responsible for the deaths of the women who had worked for them, and had named Nor as the main killer, which had not surprised Kal in the least. Jen Mai had also confessed to being the one to suggest to Lux the poison which had taken the nobleman’s late wife’s life, though the former Elder swore he had had nothing to do with obtaining the rare, deadly concoction.

The former Elder had been stripped of his title and sentenced to die. Truth be told, Kal had been surprised at the sentence. He had thought for sure that Trey and the other Elders would have opted to spare Jen Mai’s life. Bil had promised Jen Mai that he would speak on his behalf, in exchange for the man’s cooperation in the proceedings. But the former Elder’s actions at the end had not made the Council lenient towards him, not in the least bit. On the one hand, Kal was bothered by the look of absolute betrayal Jen Mai had worn when the sentence was passed. On the other, the man had been so crucially instrumental in the abduction of the royal family that if his life had been spared, it would have left Kal permanently on edge, even if Jen Mai never had contact with another person in his entire life. Only one comfort was afforded to the disgraced former Elder. His body was not broken down to the molecular level. He was allowed to choose his death, and he had opted for a poison which stopped his heart less than a minute after he’d swallowed it down.

Lux and his three sons had all been charged with high treason, as well as the murders of their household staff. Lux had faced the added charge of Ara Caln’s death as well. Their trials had been short and they had all predictably been found guilty and sentenced to death. Lux had made a desperate attempt to grab for Bilan’s gun, but the Chief of Security had been watchful for such a move and easily foiled the attempt. The whole time, Lux had threatened that he’d take his own life before allowing the Elders to disintegrate his body down to the molecular level. Kal didn’t doubt that Lux had spoken the truth. The nobleman had always wanted to live and die by his own rules. But, in the end, Lux’s life had ended in the cylindrical chamber that made up the molecular disbander. The only saving grace, the only small bit of comfort that Lux had been granted, was that his life was cut short before that of his sons. He hadn’t needed to watch his children vanish into nothingness. And Kal had to believe that even a man as evil as Lux had to harbor some love in his heart for his children.

Not even Rygel, Lux’s manservant, had been spared. He too had been found guilty of treason, for it was he who had stolen the gas canisters that had been used in the initial attack on the royal family. His was the last life the Elders had put an end to. Most of the guards the Uthors had used to keep watch on the estate had been blissfully unaware of what had been going on behind closed doors. Many had simply attributed the increase in security to nothing more sinister than a fear that if the princesses and princes could disappear, then who was to say that no attack would be made on the third wealthiest family as well? They had been spared, but others had been aware of the situation, and were found guilty of treason as well.

The sentences for all the men had been carried out right there in the Council’s chambers, as soon as the verdict had been declared. Kal hadn’t planned on witnessing their deaths. It made him sick to the very pit of his stomach. And yet, he had stayed. He had resisted the almost overwhelming urge to rise from his seat and exit the chambers when it came time to carry out their sentences. He had forced himself to watch as the men were put into the molecular disbander and witnessed as they slowly became transparent, then vanished altogether.

Kal hated to admit it, even to himself, but there was a small part of himself that had been glad that he’d forced himself to watch. Seeing, with his own eyes, each of those lives end had reinforced only one thought in his mind. Never again could they threaten his family. It was the only thing that allowed Kal to sleep soundly at night. It was the only thing that chased away the nightmares which had plagued him from the time he’d come out of his coma until the trials had concluded.

A darkness descended on Kal’s mood almost as surely as a raincloud would blot out the sunshine. Shaking his head to scatter his thoughts, Kal forced himself to return to the present, at least for the moment. The sun was still shining brightly, and the warm rays soaked into his skin, dispelling the last of the mental chill that had gripped him. He sighed softly to himself and idly scratched an itch on his left forearm. But despite his efforts to remain in the present, his thoughts once again followed their own paths.

Once the trials had come to a close and the public outrage towards the Uthors had subsided somewhat, Jor-El had approached the remaining Elders. He had laid out his proposal to them, to name both of his trueborn sons as his heirs, so they would both be raised to the role of Supreme Lord upon his death.

Kal hadn’t been privy to that conversation, nor had Ching. But their father had filled them in on all that had been said. There had been some astonished murmuring within the chamber, so rare it was that a Supreme Lord called upon the ancient law which made it legal to do such a thing. But there had been very little discussion about Jor-El’s request. All of the Elders had been in agreement that naming both Ching-El and Kal-El as the crown princes was the best thing for Krypton. As with all other formal occasions, the announcement had been broadcast over the entire planet that very same afternoon.

Kal still hadn’t been able to get around very well at the time, and had mostly been confined to the palace. But Jak had been his eyes and ears, reporting back to his prince nightly on all that he heard and saw. He had provided Kal with insight into the mood of the people, and all the feedback had been positive. The people loved their prince, and were eager to see Kal named as the Supreme Lord’s successor.

The ceremony itself had been postponed until after Kal’s head injury had made significant progress in healing, and after the surgery on his knee. The event had taken several hours, as Trey led the Elders through the ancient rituals that governed the ceremony. Kal had been grateful for the fact that it happened so close to his knee surgery. It had meant that he’d been able to spend the majority of the ceremony seated in a comfortable chair. And while that hadn’t actually lifted any of the attention from him, it had made him feel far less self-conscious than if he’d been forced to stand before the people who had gathered to witness his coronation. It had also given him the perfect excuse to have Lois at his side for the entire event, as she aided him whenever the need arose. As a result, his good hand had been in hers for nearly the entire event, save for a few brief times when he’d been forced to interact with the Elders, when he’d sworn his oaths upon the Book of Law and the ceremonial Scepter of Rule. Still, Lois’ presence had made the long-winded event tolerable, and Kal had taken comfort and strength from her as she silently sat beside him, gently squeezing his hand every now and again to send a message of reassurance to him.

Sometimes, Kal still couldn’t believe that he was now officially heir to the throne. True, he was one of two heirs, but it still occasionally stunned him to know that he would one day truly be in charge of the planet. No longer was he his brother’s heir, in the event that Ching never had a son of his own. The responsibility weighed heavily on Kal’s mind whenever he dwelled on that fact, even though he knew he’d always taken his perceived role as Ching’s future advisor just as seriously as he now took his role as the future Supreme Lord.

But it had helped to focus him a bit. He now took his duties as prince far more seriously than he ever had, and even found some of his faded joy in doing those tasks returning. He still missed Lois terribly on the days when he was at court hearing petitions, but he found his mind straying less and less as he listened to pleas and helped rectify the injustices set before him. And, Kal had to admit, it felt good to be doing those things once again. After he’d woken up in his chambers, after the fiasco at Lux Manor, he had been forced to take a step back from his duties as he healed.

At first, his fractured skull had been the greatest source of concern. Samm had fretted over every move Kal had made, and had requested that Kal spend a great deal of time in bed. Kal had obliged the good doctor, but only because his confinement was made bearable by the fact that Lois was constantly at his side. Although, Kal thought with a smile, Samm never would have approved of most of the activities the bed-ridden prince had engaged in while he’d recuperated. At least, not while he was still on the mend.

Then, once his head had healed enough so that Samm wasn’t continuously clucking his tongue over Kal’s every movement, he had undergone the surgery to repair his knee. At first, he’d been in fits of pain after the procedure, even with the painkillers Samm provided to him. He simply hadn’t been able to concentrate all that well the one day he’d attempted to sit at court with his father and brothers, and that had put an end to that experiment. Later, he had been kept busy with rehabilitating the joint, which forced him to miss more of the petition days.

But now, life was finally starting to settle back down for Kal. And that was a very welcome breath of fresh air for him.

Kal smiled to himself as he continued to lean on the rail of his balcony, still enjoying the warm shafts of sunlight that were slowly tanning his exposed skin. He watched as a pair of birds lazily flew by, wings outstretched but unmoving as they drifted on the thermals high above.

All in all, Kal reasoned to himself, he’d gotten off easy with all the minor inconveniences and adjustments which had so recently thrown his life into turmoil. It could have been worse. He could have been permanently disfigured or disabled. He could have lost his life. He could have been too late to save his loved ones.

He knew that Ruce was having a much harder time with the recent adjustments to his own life. Some weeks after the ceremony which had officially named Kal as Jor-El’s legal heir, the Council of Elders had met to discuss the gaping hole in their number, now that Jen Mai was no longer one of them. A replacement had been needed.

Kal hadn’t even been aware that the Elders had begun to discuss the matter, not until they had fully debated and voted on the issue. Ruce had almost unanimously been chosen to fill the empty seat on the Council. Kal had heard whispered concerns that the man was far too young to be raised to the prestigious title of Elder, but that had been the only real concern. No one doubted that he had proven himself worthy and loyal with his actions in aiding Kal’s efforts to save the rest of the royal family from Lux Manor.

Kal had been, and still was, ecstatic over the decision. Ruce was a perfect choice, in his mind. He was devoted to helping the poorest citizens of Krypton, and was capable of remaining fair, no matter what the circumstances. He was also devoted to seeing justice prevail over the planet. And, if Kal were to be completely honest, having Ruce on the Council was the first step in changing the outdated and unfair laws, as he and Ching had always hoped to achieve. Still, it meant that Kal hadn’t seen much of his friend, for Ruce’s time was now spent committing each of Krypton’s laws to memory. The prince didn’t envy that at all. He’d agonized over learning them throughout his entire life, until each one had imprinted itself into his memory in some way, shape, or form, though he was by no means an expert on all of them.

Kal watched the birds until they moved beyond his sight. Then he pushed himself away from the railing, rubbing his forearms where his weight had forced the stone to make little indentations in his skin. He squinted as he looked towards the sun, shading his eyes with one large hand. It was getting late in the afternoon, though the sun still hung somewhat high in the sky. Still, Kal felt that he’d dallied enough out on his balcony. He had work to do, and he had every intention of finishing it by the end of the night. With a contented sigh, he tore his eyes from the nearly cloudless sky and turned. Inside his chambers, on the opposite side of the glass, Fasa lay on the floor, attentively watching Kal’s every move. When he realized that Kal was looking at him, the tabby stood and plaintively meowed at him. Kal chuckled, opened the door, and reentered his chambers.

Fasa wound himself around Kal’s ankles, begging for attention. Smiling, Kal bent and scratched the cat’s head. Fasa purred and closed his eyes as Kal’s finger moved to scratch behind the tabby’s ear. After a few minutes, Kal stood and went to his computer, where it sat waiting at his desk. He settled himself down into the leather chair, then flipped open the computer’s lid. A document was already open on it, waiting for him to finish what he’d been working on before he’d taken a break out in the sunshine.

Kal paused for a moment, re-reading some of the things he’d written, absently chewing his lower lip as he did so. He nodded to himself as he read, pleased with the wording he’d chosen for the proposal he had been crafting for the last two weeks in fitful starts and stops, utilizing what little spare time he’d had. Reaching the end of the document, he paused and thought for another couple of minutes, getting himself back into the right frame of mind before he laid his fingertips to the keyboard. He began to type at a nearly furious pace, the words springing to mind at a thousand miles a minute. He felt he could barely keep pace with his own thoughts, which often seemed to be the case for him as he wrote, when he thought about it. It was, for him, a completely natural process, like he’d been born to write.

For another two hours, he worked diligently, typing at a frantic pace in between periods of re-reading and editing. But at last, he felt like he’d said everything he wanted to say, had clarified everything that seemed even remotely ambiguous. Reading the entire document again, he felt very good about it. He’d have Lois take a look at it when she got back home from spending the day in the city with her mother and sister. Kal wondered how late it would be when she would finally return. He missed her, though she had only been gone since just before lunch.

As if on cue, Kal heard the door to his chambers open. He stood from his desk and stretched mightily, rolling his shoulders to work out a kink that had formed as he’d inadvertently hunched over his computer. He yawned mildly, realizing only now how long he’d spent staring at the computer screen, and he rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. In another moment, Lois entered the living room, a couple of bags dangling from her forearms. She let them slip off her arms to fall in a heap on the floor as she rushed to Kal.

“Hi,” she said, as she flung herself into Kal’s waiting arms.

“Hi,” Kal replied, barely getting the word out before pressing his lips to hers.

As he always did, Kal felt his heart skip a beat at the contact with her soft, inviting lips. He moaned a little into her mouth, unable to help the feelings that were running through his body. Lois responded, kissing him back with an even greater intensity. When she finally pulled out of their kiss, they were both breathless and slightly flushed.

“I missed you,” Kal said, resting his forehead against hers.

“I missed you too,” she said, her arms threaded around his neck.

“Did you have a good day in the city with Luci and your mom?”

Lois nodded. “I did. Although, it would have been even better having you there with us. You know, Mom’s…different…now that she isn’t drinking so much. I still wish she would stop completely.”

“Well, she’s making progress,” Kal said encouragingly. “At least she’s making the effort.”

“True. But, Kal, I have to say it. I hate the extra security that’s around now. I feel like I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone watching my every move. It’s creepy.”

Kal shrugged a little. “Dad’s terrified that someone else might try what the Uthors did. Give him some time so that the paranoia can wear off. I don’t like it any more than you do. But it’s the safest thing right now.”

“It’s the creepy thing,” Lois asserted once more.

Kal chuckled and gave her another light kiss.

“It’s so good to be home,” Lois sighed. “No watchful eyes. Just you and me. Alone.” Fasa meowed as he ran by, batting at one of his toys. Lois giggled and rolled her eyes in amusement. “Okay, make that almost alone.”

“So…did you buy anything good?” Kal asked, briefly removing his flesh from hers as he nodded at the small pile of bags, effectively changing the topic.

Lois shrugged. “A couple of things.”

“Care to tell me?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Not even a hint?” he teased back, putting on his best puppy-dog face for her.

“Nice try.”

“Aw, come on. Please?” He put a small, feigned whine into his voice, and enjoyed the smile that crossed his wife’s lips.

“Later,” she promised him. “How did your day go?”

She broke from their embrace and settled on the couch. Kal sat beside her, snaking his left arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“It was all right,” he said, shrugging. “The petitions didn’t last as long as I thought they would. It was kind of a nice surprise, if you want to know the truth.”

“I thought you liked hearing them,” Lois teased, smiling at him.

“You know I do,” he replied, grinning. “But, well, fewer petitions is always a good sign. It means no one is really having any problems. Plus, it gave me some free time, which was nice.”

“And…you used your time to beat Ching and Jai in a game or something?” She winked at him playfully. “Down in the gym perhaps, now that your knee is getting better?”

Kal chuckled. “Are you kidding? Your dad would kill me. I did, however, finally finish writing up our proposal to bring before my dad and the Elders.”

Lois’ eyes widened. “You did? That’s great!”

Kal nodded. “It took long enough, I know. I’d like you to give it a read before I send it to Dad though. You’re good with catching my mistakes.”

Lois nodded. “Of course.”

“I still think it’s a great plan,” Kal said. “You are one smart woman, Lois.” To drive home his point, he kissed the side of her head.

It had been Lois’ idea to install video equipment in the more remote and poorer sections of the planet, ones that would be linked to a similar set up in the palace. That way, on petition days, the poorest of the common folk could set their pleas before the Supreme Lord and his sons, without having to travel the distance to the palace. Many of them could not afford to take the time away from their livelihoods, nor could they afford the expense of such a trip. And, it would promote job growth in those areas, as there would be a need for extra guards to watch over the gathered crowds as they waited for their turn to speak. Kal had fallen in love with the idea immediately, and together, they had laid out the plans and worked on the document that Kal had finished writing that afternoon.

“I know,” Lois shot back at him, still teasing him. “And you are one smart guy for recognizing that.” She grinned as Kal chuckled.

“The proposal is still up on the computer,” Kal said. “That is, if you want to have a look now.”

Lois hesitated. “Maybe later,” she said after a moment. “I just want to sit and relax with you for a little while.”

“Okay,” Kal nodded. “No objections here.”

He leaned back into the couch, content, for the moment, just to be sitting there, one arm wrapped about his wife. He sighed slightly, completely at peace, and looked out of the windows. The sun was beginning to set, and the unseen painter of the heavens was busily at work with a palette of reds, oranges, pinks and golds. Beside him, Lois fidgeted on the couch before slipping out of his embrace.

“Something the matter?” he asked, as she stood from the couch.

She shook her head. “No. But I have a gift for you. I was going to give it to you tonight sometime after dinner, but well, I’ve never been very good at being patient with stuff like this. So, you’re getting it now. Unless…you want to wait?”

“Whatever you want, honey,” he said, surrendering to her sudden babbling.

Lois bit her lip in thought. “Well…I guess now is better. I mean, I’d hate to slip and say something to ruin the surprise.”

“Ooo-kay,” Kal said, dragging the word out. There were still times when Lois completely baffled him. He tried to guess at what Lois might have bought him, but came up blank. He couldn’t even begin to imagine why she’d gotten him a gift. It wasn’t a holiday, and his birthday had been several months prior.

Lois continued talking as she crossed the room and began to root around in her pile of shopping bags. Kal heard the bags crinkling as she rifled through them, instantly rejecting some of them, and delving into the depths of others before setting them aside.

“I finally got a chance to slip away from Mom and Luci late in the day. You know, I think Mom’s becoming an even bigger coffee addict than she ever was with her alcohol. Now where did I put…? Anyway, she went to get a cup of coffee and Luci wanted one of those sticky pastry things that you like. And I was able to slip away to get you…ah! There it is!”

Lois triumphantly held aloft a wide but slender object. It was wrapped in cheerful yellow paper with blue and green swirls. She grinned, crossed the room, and handed it to Kal. He stood as he accepted the gift, meeting her partway across the room, her sudden explosion of energy prompting him into motion. He smiled at her as he examined the paper.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “that’s all the wrapping paper that they had at the store. It’s kind of tacky, if you ask me.”

Kal chuckled. “Only you would worry about that,” he teased.

Lois shook her head. “No, that’s not true. I watched you obsess for twenty minutes about using blue or red paper when you were wrapping Jai’s Winter’s Deep gift.”

Kal laughed again. “Okay, you got me on that one.”

“I always do,” Lois grinned. “Well, come on. Don’t just stand there. Open it.” She eagerly gestured at the gift he was holding.

Kal stifled another laugh that was dancing in his throat, and set to work carefully unwrapping the item in his hands. His finger slid between the paper and the tape, easily breaking the bond that held the two together. Then he peeled the paper away. He was curious to see what lay beneath, but he kept his movements deliberate, mostly because he was enjoying watching Lois bounce up and down on the balls of her feet in impatience. He bit back an amused smile, and instead, pulled the rest of the paper away.

Within the wrappings was his favorite childhood book. His own had fallen apart years ago, and he’d regretfully parted with it. He’d never replaced it, having grown too old by that time for the silly stories and rhymes held within its tattered pages. But now, Lois had bought him a replacement.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, oddly glad to see the book again.

“Open it,” Lois encouraged him again, still grinning proudly at her gift to him.

Kal did as he was bid, and opened the front cover. There on the title page, he saw Lois’ neat, tight, elegant script. He read the words, then read them a second time as his brain worked to process them.

Daddy,

Will you read this to me, when I arrive?

Love,

Your baby

Kal’s knees buckled as the words finally broke through the paralysis that had overtaken his brain. He took a step backwards, his calves connecting with the back of their couch. He gripped the piece of furniture with one hand, steadying himself, forcing his body to remain upright. His entire world shifted crazily on its axis, and he felt a sense of vertigo.

He’d felt that sensation in such a wonderfully positive way only once before in his entire life. That had been the day when Kal had fallen in love with his wife. He had thought then that he would never again experience such a rush of joy, such unbridled love, such complete and utter shock and awe. He had been wrong. This news, if his sluggish mind and half-formed thoughts were correct, rivaled the intensity of that fairy-tale night nearly a year before, when Lois and Kal had kissed beneath a starry summer sky.

“Lois,” he breathed, surprised that his voice was working when the rest of his mind seemed to have shut down. “Are you telling me…?”

Lois’ grin widened even further and she nodded. “You are going to be a daddy,” she confirmed for him. “In about eight months.” She lightly patted her still-flat stomach for emphasis.

That seemed to kick-start Kal’s frozen thoughts. His smile exploded onto his face, blinding Lois more than the horizontal shafts of sunlight that were spilling into the room from the departing sun. The cheerful wrapping paper slipped from his fingers and drifted to the floor, where Fasa immediately investigated it. The book itself worked its way free of his other hand, and fell to the couch cushions with a ruffling of pages. Kal barely noticed these things as his body suddenly galvanized into action.

He stepped to Lois and grabbed her about her waist, drawing her into a fierce hug. He easily lifted her off the floor and spun in a tight circle with her. Pearls of his laughter escaped his lips, unchallenged as they bubbled up out of his chest and throat. He kissed her deeply.

“That’s incredible!” he finally managed to say, putting his wife back down so that her feet reconnected with the floor. “I can’t believe it! A baby!” His grin grew even wider as he imagined the little person growing within his wife’s womb.

“Well,” Lois said, laughing a little herself, “we have been married for more than a year now.”

“It’s just…I never thought…we haven’t been trying…” Kal sputtered, finding himself incapable of completing a coherent sentence.

Lois placed one finger to his lips, silencing him. “I know. But sometimes, things happen when we least expect it. Like when I fell in love with you.”

Kal shook his head, still attempting to force his brain to get back up to its normal speed. “I’m so happy,” he finally managed to say. “I’ve always wanted to be a daddy.”

“I’m happy too,” Lois said, her hand fluttering back to her stomach for a moment. “You know what’s weird? A little more than a year ago, the thought of being your wife…and the future mother of your children…it terrified me. But now,” she shook her head, smiling. “Now, I can’t be happier. And I can’t wait to meet this little person.”

“Me too. I can’t believe I have to wait a whole eight more months to meet this little one. But, I have to ask. When did you find out?” Kal finally said, impressed with his ability to think clearly.

“Yesterday. I saw Dr. K’lin right after he checked on the progress you are making with your knee. You had that meeting with the Elders.”

“Right,” Kal said, nodding. “I remember.”

“Well, after you rushed off to your meeting, I asked him to stay. I had taken a home test that morning, before you woke up, and it was positive. But, I wanted to be sure. So, Dr. K’lin ran some tests and confirmed it for me. I didn’t want to say anything in front of you. I wanted it to be a surprise if I actually was expecting, so I could find some creative way of telling you.”

Kal nodded. “Sneaky,” he said, grinning.

“No one else knows,” she assured him. “I wrote the inscription in the book when I was out today, then had Jak take it to the checkout for me. He might suspect something’s up, but that’s about it. Still, Kal…I’m worried.”

Kal’s smile immediately faded. “Why? Is something wrong? What did Dr. K’lin say?”

Lois shook her head, reached out, and rubbed Kal’s bare forearm soothingly. “Oh. Nothing. That’s not what I meant. I’m fine. The baby is fine. It’s just, well…I don’t know how to break the news. To Zara and Ching, I mean. They’ve been trying…and they’ve had such lousy luck.”

“Hey now,” Kal said gently, lifting her chin up so that she looked at him, instead of down at the carpet, where her gaze had dropped. “It’ll be okay. They aren’t going to be mad or anything.”

“I’m not worried about them being mad, Kal. I just don’t want to upset them. It’s hard for them. Last week, when Zara and I were out, she couldn’t stop sighing every time we passed a family with kids. She thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”

“I know,” Kal admitted. “I know how much she’s hurting. Ching too. That last miscarriage was the hardest one yet, I think, for both of them. But, well, I have a little secret to confess.”

“Oh?”

“Ching keeps asking when you and I are going to start our family. He’s told me at least three times how much he wants a niece or nephew. And forget about Jai. I think he wanted us to get pregnant on our wedding night.”

“So…you think Zara and Ching will be okay with this?”

Kal nodded gravely. “I do.”

Lois breathed what sounded to Kal like a sigh of relief. He guided her back to their places on the couch, then pulled her into his embrace once they were settled. His hand moved to cover her stomach, and he marveled at the fact that there was a life hidden beneath the layers of skin and muscle. He was astounded that something so wonderful could be created. It rendered him nearly speechless to know that their love had made a new little person come into existence. It was almost overwhelming to him. He sat in stunned silence for a few long minutes, never moving his hand from its protective guard of his wife’s midsection.

“Incredible,” he murmured, unsure if he was talking to himself or to Lois. Then, directing his voice at her, he spoke again. “I love you, Lois.”

“I love you too, Kal.”

“And thank you.”

“For what?”

Kal grinned at her. “Where do I start? For giving me a baby. For being my wife. For everything that makes you who you are.”

“My sweet prince,” Lois returned, kissing his forehead. “Thank you for being who you are. My husband. The father of my child. My best friend. And my soul mate.”

“I still can’t believe this,” Kal said, shaking his head a little. “I can’t believe how much I already love this child.”

“I know. I feel the same way. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Kal nodded, then fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. He frowned before pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly dialing the familiar number. After two rings, Jak picked up.

“Hey, Jak,” Kal said brightly into the mouthpiece. “Do me a favor, please. Cancel my appointments for tomorrow. All of them. Yes, even the meeting with the Elders. We can reschedule them for the same time next week. Sure, sure. Sounds perfect. Thanks. Goodbye.”

Kal ended the call and put the phone away.

“You just cancelled some very important meetings,” Lois pointed out to him.

Kal shrugged. “Nothing is as important as going out tomorrow and buying stuff for the baby’s room.”

Lois giggled a little. “Kal, sweetie, we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet. And we won’t for some time.”

Kal grinned. “Oh, it’s a boy. Definitely.”

Lois laughed. “Oh, really?”

“Yep.”

“And how could you possibly know that?”

“Father’s intuition,” he replied with a sly smile.

“It could be a girl,” Lois retorted playfully.

“It could be. And that would be just fine by me. But it’s a boy for sure.”

He was teasing her now, and she knew it. She whacked him playfully on the arm, which only elicited another laugh from her husband. Kal had a hundred witty responses waiting for her, all jockeying for the leading position on his tongue, but he swallowed them all down. Instead, he kissed Lois deeply, and gave his tongue a new mission of exploring her mouth. She pushed him backwards and crawled on top of him, never once removing her lips from his. Kal’s embrace tightened around her as he lay there on the couch, kissing his wife, his hands roaming up and down her back and through her hair.

For a long time, all they did was kiss, heedless of the passage of time, heedless of their own need to breathe, it seemed. But eventually, they parted, and Kal was astonished to see how late it had gotten. They were expected at dinner in only ten minutes’ time. Lois seemed to realize it as well as she looked at the clock and sighed. Kal fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, which had mostly come undone as they’d kissed, though he had no memory of it happening.

“We don’t have to go down,” he said, in response to Lois’ look of disappointment. “I can have Jon make us up some plates so we can eat here.”

Lois hesitated for only the most fleeting of seconds before nodding. “I’d like that. I’m not sure that I can hold in this secret, and I’d prefer to talk to Zara and Ching privately when we tell them. Besides, it’s been far too long since you and I have had the chance to sit down to a nice, quite meal, just the two of us.”

“You read my mind,” Kal said, grinning from ear to ear. “Let me just call down and…”

“Dinner can wait,” Lois replied, gently cutting him off.

She rose from the couch, taking Kal by the hand as she did so. Kal willingly followed her lead. His heart was bursting with love for the incredible woman he was married to. It only made sense that he follow her as she led him to their bedroom, where that love would take physical form. And as he trailed behind her, his hand in hers, he had only one thought.

He was truly the luckiest man on all of Krypton.

***

“Kal, sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“Down in Kel’s room, trying to get him ready.”

“Still?” Lois asked, sounding amused, even in her impatience. “We have to be downstairs in twenty minutes.”

“I know,” Kal called back, sighing. “Try explaining that to our son.”

Kal heard Lois’ light footsteps coming closer as she made her way down the hall. He tried once more to get the shirt he was holding onto his squirming, protesting two and a half year old son. But the boy wasn’t having any of it. It had been all Kal could do to wrestle his son into his tiny pants and shoes.

“Come on, please?” Kal pleaded with his child.

“Noooooo! I want mooooommmmmmy!” Kel wailed around the drool-covered fingers that were shoved into his mouth.

Kal sighed, feeling all but defeated. Kel could be just as stubborn as his mother, when he wanted to be. And today, apparently, he wanted to be stubborn. Normally, the prince didn’t mind it. But today, he just didn’t have the time. He needed Kel to cooperate. Kal looked helplessly at Lois as she strode into the room, shoeless and still putting on one of her earrings.

“Help me,” Kal pleaded.

Lois chuckled at the sight of her husband. He was on his knees, one strong arm wrapped around the waist of their son, while the child thrashed and squirmed, drool dripping down the hand that was half-shoved into his mouth. She laughed even harder at the look of absolute desperation on Kal’s face. The man could broker peace between feuding lords - she had seen that first-hand on numerous occasions - but he was totally lost when it came time to persuade an unwilling child away from the dangerous edge of falling into a full-blown tantrum.

“Mommy!” Kel said, brightening considerably at the sight of his mother.

“Hi, sweetie,” Lois said soothingly, kneeling as Kel broke free of his daddy’s grasp and rushed into her arms. “How come you won’t let Daddy get you ready?”

“Want you,” Kel said in injured tones.

“Sorry,” Kal said, apologizing to his wife. “I really tried.”

“It’s all right,” Lois said, accepting the shirt that Kal held out towards her, like a drooping white flag of surrender. She slipped the garment easily over Kel’s head and helped him pull his arms through the sleeves, now that he was suddenly being compliant. “There, that’s not so bad, huh?” she asked him.

Kel rigorously shook his head, emphasizing that no, it really wasn’t so bad after all.

“Thanks,” Kal said, with a relieved sigh. “You are a miracle worker, you know that?”

“I try. But, weren’t you going down to Jai’s room for a pep-talk?” Lois asked.

“Yeah,” Kal said, standing and nodding. “I was.”

“You still have time, if you want to go.”

Kal shifted his weight and awkwardly scratched his left ankle with his right foot. “I don’t know,” he managed to say, sounding as indecisive as he looked. “I wanted to give you a hand around here, so you’d have enough time to get ready.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m mostly ready.”

Kal hesitated for a moment. He really did want to see Jai before his brother walked down that aisle to be wed. But he also knew that Lois had her hands full. Then a thought struck him.

“Kel,” he said, looking his son in the eye. “Want to go visit Uncle Jai with me?”

Kel grinned widely. “Uh-huh!” Then, he paused, thoughtful for a moment. “And Lin too?”

Kal nodded at his boy. “Sure. Your sister can come with us.”

“Okay!” Kel bounced in place for a moment. He was about to race out the door of his bedroom when he suddenly turned and ran past his father instead. He went to the miniature armchair and grabbed a well-worn, well-loved, tan and white stuffed dog, affectionately named “Woof.” He hugged the stuffed animal tightly. “Can Woof come?”

Kal chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving him behind.”

Kel gave a squeal of excitement and hugged the toy even tighter. Kal affectionately ruffled his son’s hair, careful not to make it messy.

“Come on,” Kal said, “let’s go get Lin.” He looked at Lois. “She’s ready to go?”

Lois nodded. “All set.”

“Great. I’ll meet you down in the Council’s chambers. I won’t be long,” he promised her.

Lois chuckled and patted his arm. “I know. And thanks.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him lightly on his lips.

Kal nodded, then left the room, heading to his daughter’s bedroom, Kel trailing him. Lin was laying on her back, staring sleepily up at the mobile hanging above the crib. Kal smiled down at her, making cooing noises. Then he reached in and gently picked her up. She was only six weeks old, and Kal marveled at how tiny and perfect she was as he nestled her against his chest. He held her close, her head resting on his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, then turned to his son.

“Ready, buddy?”

Kel nodded and took his father’s free hand. Together, father and son left their chambers and walked out into the halls of the palace. Kel was relatively subdued as they walked, which Kal took as a blessing. He wasn’t sure he could juggle a hyper two and a half year old and a six week old at the same time. Not without Lois. Or at the very least, Marthe.

Kal smiled inwardly at the thought of Marthe. His old nursemaid was now nursemaid to his own children, whenever he and Lois were both occupied, or just wanted a little time to themselves. They didn’t utilize her services often, loathe as they were to be parted from their children, but it was nice to know that she was there at hand if they needed her. And, Kal thought to himself, a kinder, more trust-worthy woman could not possibly be found. She had told the two proud parents on more than one occasion how much she loved to watch over the little ones. Kal knew that it stemmed, in part, from the woman’s own, never fully realized, desire to be a mother.

It took only a few minutes to get to Jai’s chambers, and Kal let his son do the honor of knocking on the door, an honor that the child seemed to take very seriously. After a brief moment, Jai came to the door, already dressed in his ceremonial robes. He grinned when he saw who his visitors were and immediately picked his nephew up. He tickled Kel quickly, causing the child to shriek with laughter.

“Unca Jai!” Kel laughed.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jai said, smiling brightly. “Hey, bro,” he said, looking at Kal. Then he kissed his niece’s head.

“Jai!” Kal grinned, slapping his brother on the back with his free hand. “Looking good!”

“Thanks.”

“Big day! Are you nervous?”

“Nah! I’m good…I think. You guys just missed Ching though.”

“Ah,” Kal nodded, stepping into Jai’s chambers, and following him into the living room. He was shocked at how neat and orderly the place was. Kal didn’t think he’d ever seen Jai’s rooms without some element of chaos to it before, and for a split second, he wondered if he’d wandered into the wrong chambers by accident. “Did he come for a pep-talk too?”

“Yeah,” Jai said, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Oh. Well…want another one?” Kal teased.

Jai snorted a laugh. “That’s funny, Kal. It seems to me like you were the only one of us who needed a pep-talk on his big day.”

Kal’s face darkened for only the slightest of instants. He still felt badly about how he’d handled his own wedding day. He still felt guilty that he’d once viewed that day as the worst day of his life. He knew now that his marriage had been the true beginning of his life, not the end of it. He glanced quickly at his son, looking to see how much of this he was listening to, but the boy was crawling on the floor, making Woof investigate Jai’s bookshelves, engrossed in a conversation with the stuffed toy.

Jai’s grin faded. “Kal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up…”

Kal shook his head and shifted Lin’s weight a little. “No, it’s fine,” he said, gently cutting his brother off. “I did need the support you and Ching gave me that day. I’m still grateful for it. Knowing you guys were rooting for me, and that you were so confident I’d find a way to make my marriage work meant the world to me. It still does. Anyway,” he said, waving the air vaguely with his free hand, “that’s not why I’m here. To rehash the past, I mean. How are you holding up?”

Jai’s smile returned. “Just fine. Except, well, the waiting is killing me. I can hardly sit still. I just hope I don’t flub the few lines I have to say.”

His older brother laughed. “You’ll do just fine.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” Kal assured him. “Trust me. I’ve been through it before. It’s easy.”

“I guess that’s true,” Jai smirked.

“You’re a lucky guy, Jai. She’s a good woman.”

“I know.” Jai nodded thoughtfully. “And to think…this almost would have been impossible, if her birth-husband hadn’t…”

“I know,” Kal said, cutting him off again. “I know.” He sighed heavily.

He didn’t like to think about the circumstances which had opened the door for the romance that had blossomed between Jai and his wife-to-be. He didn’t like to dwell on the idea of what might have been. It still made Kal very uneasy, still threatened to freeze the blood pumping through his veins, still sent chills racing up his spine.

Luci had almost been wedded to the late Lord Nor Uthor.

Promised to him from her birth, Luci would have - should have - become Lady Luci Uthor. And, Kal reflected somberly, it was likely that she would have wound up becoming another one of Nor’s victims. She had too much of the same fire that Lois had; the fire that Kal so dearly loved but knew Nor never would have tolerated. The only thing that had saved Kal’s sister-in-law from that fate had been Nor’s execution. Kal felt a wave of guilt wash through him as he once more felt grateful for the fact that Nor’s death had set Luci free from the contract that had once bound her to the sociopath.

Beside him, Jai must have been having similar thoughts. He sighed heavily, dropping his eyes to his hands, which lay folded in his lap. A silence fell between them, neither one quite sure what they could say now to disperse the lingering darkness of those thoughts. In the end, Kel was the one to break the silence.

“Unca Jai?” he asked, wandering over, his deep brown eyes wide. “Play with me?” Then, with a glance at his father, he added, “Peeees?”

Jai chuckled along with Kal, and just like that, the heaviness in the air was gone. “I wish I could, buddy.”

“But…” the little boy protested.

“Kel,” Kal said gently. “Today is a big day for your Uncle Jai. He’s marrying your Aunt Luci. Isn’t that exciting?”

Kel enthusiastically pumped his head up and down in a fierce nod. Then he promptly went back to playing with his stuffed dog. Without looking up, the boy furrowed his brow, a perfect copy of Kal’s look when he did that. “Aunt Luci play too?”

“Soon,” Jai promised the child. “Very soon. I promise.”

“Okay,” Kel said solemnly. If his Uncle Jai made a promise, that seemed to be good enough for him.

“Man,” Jai said after a moment, fidgeting with collar of his robes. “I don’t know how anyone can stand these robes. I feel like the collar is choking me.”

Kal laughed, bit down a teasing retort, and nodded sympathetically. “I know just what you mean. Anyway, I’d better get going. I promised Lois I’d meet her down there. And besides, I’m sure Dad will be here any minute to check on how you’re holding up.”

“Thanks, Kal,” Jai said. “It means the world to me that you popped in here before the ceremony.”

“Hey, my baby brother is about to take the most wonderful, most life-changing step in his life,” Kal grinned. “How could I not stop to make sure that you’re still in one piece? Or fleeing from the palace in terror?”

“Wait, I thought having children was the most wonderful, most life-changing event,” Jai replied, a teasing edge to his voice. “I’m quoting you directly here, from two and half years ago when my favorite nephew was born.”

“That’s true,” Kal conceded with a laugh. “But, well, one step at a time, bro. One step at a time.”

Jai chuckled, then stood. Kal did the same. The two brothers embraced in an awkward hug, careful not to crush Kal’s newborn daughter between them.

“I’ll see you at the feast,” Kal said, smiling brightly and patting Lin’s back with infinite gentleness. “Remember, you’ll do just fine. Kel? Come on, we need to let Uncle Jai finish getting ready.”

“Okay,” the boy said, running to his daddy’s side.

“Say bye to Uncle Jai,” Kal said, smiling down on his son.

Kel turned and waved one small hand. “Bye, Unca Jai!”

“Bye, kiddo,” Jai said, waving back.

Kal took his young son’s hand and led him out of Jai’s chambers. They passed Jor-El as he neared the same door they had just exited through. The Supreme Lord gave them a smile, but he looked preoccupied with ensuring that the event to come went smoothly. He was always a bit on edge when it came to large events, especially those that the entire population of Krypton would be viewing on their video screens. Kal offered his father a winning smile, then patiently took his children down to the Council’s chambers.

Heads turned as he entered, his daughter now fast asleep on his left shoulder, his son grasping his right hand. The boy looked a little overwhelmed at the sheer number of people in the chambers, but he was all smiles. Kal thought that one day, his son was going to be quite the little heartbreaker, as the child began to wave at the people he passed.

Kal, however, felt slightly awkward as he walked up the center aisle, just as he always did when he found himself at the center of people’s attention. The gathered lords and ladies openly stared at him; he could feel their eyes on him even without looking. He knew they were all curious to catch a glimpse of the new little princess that had been born to the royal house of El, despite the fact that Lin’s perfect little face had been splashed across the planet’s news right after her birth. That too, had made Kal slightly uneasy, even through the immense pride he had in his expanding family.

It was with a sigh of relief that Kal found his seat, up at the front of the room. Lois was already there, sitting next to Zara and Ching, quietly chatting with them. Kal slipped into the row, and Kel launched himself at his mommy. Kal smiled and greeted his brother and sister-in-law, while Lois easily lifted her son into her lap. She bopped Kel’s nose lightly with one finger, and the child laughed, his eyes sparkling. A second later, Kal leaned in a gave his wife a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Miss me?” she asked, teasing him.

“Always,” he replied sincerely.

Ching rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Are you two ever going to leave the Honeymoon Stage?” he teased.

“Well, that depends,” Kal retorted. “Are you and Zara ever going to?”

His brother laughed. “Well played, Kal. Well played.”

Ching shifted a little in his seat, adjusting the couple’s four month old daughter, Tara, in his arms. Like Lin, the girl had found the events of the day to be more than exhausting, and was passed out on his shoulder. Kal leaned over and kissed the baby on her head, inwardly smiling at how much Ching doted on his daughter. No child could ask for a more grateful, loving set of parents, Kal thought to himself. And no two people had ever been more deserving of the beautiful little girl. Kal’s only regret was that Tara was destined to be an only child.

Zara had not wanted to conceive again after the miscarriage she had suffered as Lux Uthor’s prisoner on that terrible Winter’s Deep, a few short years prior. The loss had been too great. In fact, it had nearly broken her and Ching. So they had stopped trying for a time, preferring to step back and take some time to heal. Zara had even admitted to being ready to stop trying altogether, and simply live out her days childless; that had been the depth of her wounds.

But, as fate would have it, Dr. K’lin had begun to experiment with a relatively new treatment. Kal had never pried to find out just what was involved with the actual treatment, but it had something to do with simulating the energy of a yellow sun’s rays, and had been based on the theories set forth by Dr. Samm Lyne. Zara and Ching had debated about trying it for several long months, before finally deciding that it was worth a shot. Within a month after starting to work with Dr. K’lin, Zara had once again been with child.

Dr. K’lin had overseen the entire pregnancy, treating Zara often twice a week with the specially developed lasers Lois’ father had fabricated. And somehow, the treatment had worked. Zara had managed to keep the pregnancy. But it had been a rough nine months, and she had been confined to bed rest for nearly the entire time. She had never once complained, and Kal gave her a lot of credit for that. Being confined to his bed when he’d been recovering from his fractured skull had nearly driven him up the walls, even with Lois constantly at his side. And yet, whenever he’d asked Zara how she was doing, she had only ever been all smiles and gratitude for the child that had been growing within her.

It had been the delivery which had proven to be the most difficult. She had managed to go into a natural childbirth, and they had all thought that the worst was over. But fate had pulled one last, cruel trick. Complications had arisen as she went through the last stages of labor, and Zara had nearly died as she struggled to bring her baby daughter into the world. In the end, Dr. K’lin had had to cut the girl from Zara’s womb in an emergency surgery.

Zara had never once regretted it, but the damage to her body had been done. Severe bleeding had occurred, and there had been no choice but to remove Zara’s womb. It had been a heartbreaking development for the new parents, even as they celebrated the birth of their child. Kal knew Ching had always envisioned himself surrounded by many children. But he also knew that his older brother could not possibly love his daughter anymore fiercely than he did.

Tara was, quite simply, the center of Ching’s universe.

“How’s my favorite niece?” Kal asked, gazing at the child.

“She’s doing well,” Ching replied, beaming at his daughter. “You were with Jai just now?”

“Where else?” Kal asked, grinning. “He’s chomping at the bit to get down here.”

Ching laughed. “I know. It’s good to see him so excited about this. You know, there was a time when I never thought I’d see the day when Jai would be in love. Let alone getting married.”

“I know.” Kal nodded his agreement. He paused for a second. “I passed Dad in the hall when I was coming down here. He looked stressed out.”

“Well, you know Dad. He always worries when it comes to these huge events.” Ching made a half-hearted shrug, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby on his shoulder.

“Exactly. I offered to help him with the planning, but he refused.”

Ching gave him another half-shrug. “He told me. But he didn’t want anything to distract you from the impending birth of your daughter.”

“Yeah,” Kal sighed. “I know. And I appreciate that, but I wish I could have taken some of the stress away from him.”

“He wouldn’t even let me help.” The man sighed. “So, how’s life with two kids treating you?” Ching asked, winking at him, and changing the subject in one smooth move. He asked Kal that same question on a regular basis, always in a teasing manner. “Getting any sleep yet?”

Kal chuckled. “I got a full four hours last night,” he grinned back. “My daughter is a night owl.”

He lightly rubbed the infant’s back in a soothing manner. He didn’t mind the interrupted sleep in the least. Tending to his daughter was worth it, and made the sleepless nights bearable. In fact, Kal enjoyed the moments alone with her in the small hours of the night, while Kel and Lois remained blissfully wrapped in their own dreams. Kal loved holding the girl, soothing her, rocking her, and talking to her until she fell back to sleep, safe and tiny in his strong arms.

Ching snorted a laugh. “Tara’s becoming one too. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Tara’s only response was to suck on her thumb, her breathing deep and even as she slept. Kal smiled at the baby and nodded.

“Great,” Lois said, never taking her eyes off her son. “They’ll be well prepared for sleep-over parties when they get older.”

“Hmm, aren’t we rushing things?” Kal asked, gazing at his daughter with such love that he felt his heart would surely have to burst open. “I thought we agreed that we want her to stay this tiny for as long as possible.”

Lois giggled a little at her husband’s joking tone. “Well, if we do that, we’d probably be too busy to have any more babies,” she said, winking at him.

“More?” Kal squeaked out, his eyes going wide as a slow grin spread over his face. “I do like the sound of that.”

Still, he felt guilty even as he said it. He always felt badly about his ability to have more children, when Zara and Ching could not. But a quick side glance at his older brother reassured him that there were no hard feelings. In fact, Ching looked quite amused as he watched Kal and his wife interact.

In Kal’s arms, Lin started to fuss in her own dreamland. Carefully, he shifted her so that she no longer rested against his chest, but lay, instead, in his arms on her back. Kal quietly rocked his body from side to side, humming almost inaudibly. It wasn’t a specific tune, just one that Kal made up on the spot, though it had notes of familiar children’s lullabies held within its folds. Kal stifled a grin as the thought struck him that not even in this one simple task was he ever one to be a conformist.

For a few long minutes, Lin continued to fuss, until, at last, Kal’s efforts soothed away whatever dream or discomfort she was experiencing. Her breathing evened out and she grew quiet and still once again. Kal ran a finger over one of Lin’s tiny pink cheeks, then brought it to her dainty, petite hand. Even in her sleep, she instinctively grabbed hold of it with a tight grip. And, as always, Kal’s heart absolutely melted.

A few minutes later, Samm and Elle Lyne entered into the room. They swiftly made their way to the same row as Kal and his family. Both smiled at the sight of their two grandchildren. Kel’s small face broke into a huge lopsided grin, one that so perfectly matched his father’s. Samm scooped the boy into his arms for a few minutes, before setting him back down on Lois’ lap. Then he fondly bent to kiss his granddaughter.

“How are my grandkids?” Samm asked, never taking his eyes off Lin.

“Doing well. How are you guys?” Kal asked, his eyes flickering up to Samm and Elle briefly, before resting back on Lin’s face. She had a sort of hypnotic effect on him, he thought wryly. Both of his children did.

“We’re well, thanks,” Elle replied.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Kal said, still rocking Lin in his arms. “I’m so thrilled that Luci and Jai…” his voice trailed off as Lin started to wake and cry. “Shhh…” he tried to soothe her. “It’s okay. Daddy’s got you. It’s all right.”

Lin quieted down again as Kal bounced her in his arms. She stared up at him, her eyes a perfect copy of her mother’s. Next to Kal, his son was staring attentively at his baby sister.

“Lin?” he asked.

Kal smiled at his son. “She’s okay, buddy.”

“Sure?” he asked, looking dubious.

Kal chuckled. “Positive. See? She’s fine.”

“Okay,” the boy grinned.

Kal grinned right back at his son. Another minute later, Jor-El finally slipped into the empty seat that was waiting for him. He reached out his arms, eager to have one of his grandchildren filling them. Kal dutifully handed his father Lin. The Supreme Lord’s face positively lit up, and all of the tension in his features that had been there earlier melted away as he cradled the infant.

“Hi there, baby girl,” the Supreme Lord cooed. His voice grew lighter as he talked to the baby princess, warming the hearts of everyone who could hear him.

“Daddy?” Kel asked, breaking Kal out of his thoughts.

“Yes, pal?”

“Up?” the boy asked.

“Sure!” Kal beamed as his son practically took a flying leap off Lois’ lap and into Kal’s.

In a second, he had the boy settled on his lap, his son leaning back into his chest, seemingly completely content. Kal kissed the top of his son’s head affectionately.

Nearby, Samm chuckled and Elle’s smile grew wider. Samm looked about ready to say something, but as he opened his mouth, the doors to the chambers opened. A hush settled over the gathered crowd as Jai stepped confidently into the room. Kal could see that his brother was having a hard time maintaining a dignified pace, so eager he was to begin the ceremony. Everyone in the room stood as he entered, and Kal picked up his son, resting the child’s weight on his hip. Kel snuggled into his side and rested his head against Kal’s neck. Once more, the prince’s heart swelled with pride and love as he held one of his children close.

Jai strode to the front of the room. Kal could see his brother’s lips moving as he quietly greeted Trey. Then Jai’s eyes swiveled out over the crowd, taking stock of the lords and ladies who would bear witness to the union between Luci and himself. He saw his family in the sea of faces, which wasn’t hard, as they were sitting up front, and he nodded at them. Kal nodded back reassuringly. Jai looked a little nervous to Kal’s knowing eyes. His little brother was still obsessing over whether or not he would trip over the words when it came time to recite his vows.

A moment later, the doors to the chambers opened a second time, this time admitting Luci into the room. Just as Lois had been, a few short years prior, the young woman was dressed in the black ceremonial robes the occasion demanded. In his mind, Kal was instantly transported back to his own wedding day. Lois had taken his breath away then, with nothing more than her stunning looks. Later, she had proven that her mind was just as alluring as her body. And once they had learned to get along, Kal had instantly been under her spell as he fell in love with her personality. It hadn’t been hard at all for him to fall in love with his wife, once they had put aside their injured feelings over being sold into a contracted marriage by their fathers. Everything about Lois was so beautiful, so wonderful, so ideally suited to his own personality.

As always, Kal felt a surge of love and gratitude well up within his chest as he thought about the woman he was married to. He knew, in his heart, that no more perfect match could have ever been made for him. And he found himself thankful for the contract that had been forged when he was younger than his own son was now, which had bound his life to Lois’. That didn’t mean that Kal had suddenly taken a liking to the archaic tradition of arranging marriages between children and unborn babies, not in the least. But, in this one instance, he found himself thankful for it.

Kal rocked his son absently as he watched the marriage ceremony begin. Now and again, he found himself rubbing circles on the boy’s small back. Kel stuck his fingers in his mouth and silently endured the ceremony, clutching his stuffed dog the entire time. Once or twice, the child became so quiet and still that Kal was sure he’d fallen asleep. But each time, when he peeked down to check, the boy was wide awake, looking about the room with wide, curious eyes.

Before long, the ceremony drew to a conclusion. Kal blinked in surprise at how fast it had flown by. He had been so terrified on his own wedding day. And he’d harbored so much dread for the unknown element that his wedding night had held, that the ceremony had seemed to take the better part of a year to get through. But Kal now realized that it had only taken about an hour.

After Jai and Luci departed from the chambers, Kal stood again, and walked down to the feast with his family at his side. His free arm was around Lois’ waist; the other was holding Kel close. A quick look at Zara and Ching revealed an exact duplicate. Side by side, the two couples walked through the halls, in flagrant defiance of the traditions which demanded that the women trail the men by two steps. Kal caught a few shocked looks as he passed some of the other nobles, but they mostly attempted to hide it. Only Trey looked at the princes with patient resignation, if not acceptance that they would never change.

Once at the feast, Kal sought out Ruce. It was good to see the man, Kal reflected. He hadn’t seen his friend since the day after Lin had been born, when he’d come to welcome the new baby into the world. For a long time, the two men chatted, Ruce’s new wife joining them for a short period of time before drifting off to speak with Zara. Kal liked the woman a lot, and thought that Ruce had chosen his wife well, though Kal still could not believe that his friend had somehow managed to escape a birth-marriage. At last, Kel grew restless in his father’s arms. Kal smiled patiently at the boy, then took his leave of Ruce. He set Kel down on the floor, and the boy happily scampered off to play with some of the other young children who were in attendance. The prince took comfort that Marthe’s watchful eyes never strayed from the child.

For the rest of the evening, Kal made small talk with the other lords and ladies. Most of them politely asked how his young family was doing. A few of the more brazen lords attempted to forge marriage contracts between their children and Kal’s. Kal shot down each offer as politely as he could, which earned him more than one frown. And, from the looks of things, it seemed Ching was in the same position. A number of times, Kal saw his brother shake his head emphatically, and reflexively clutch Tara even tighter. But both brothers were resolute in their staunch refusal to sell their children into marriages. Each child would be given the chance that neither brother had ever had: the chance to grow up free to love and marry whoever they deemed worthy. And for Kal, that meant that his children could choose another noble or the poorest commoner. It made no difference to him, so long as his kids grew up happy. So long as his kids had the chance to love someone as wholly, as fiercely, as purely as he loved Lois.

The feast itself was a rather nice event, Kal thought as the night wore on. He hadn’t enjoyed his own at all. He’d barely tasted the food that night. He’d barely touched the expensive wines that had so freely flowed. He had barely been able to exchange two words with Lois that night. And the thought of the festivities ending had filled Kal with terror, because it would leave him alone with a total stranger. He hadn’t felt ready for that, not in the least.

But tonight, everything was different. Kal sampled every single dish that came out. He savored every bite of food, delighting in the tender meats and steaming vegetables, the rich pastries and cakes, the savory seafood. Jon had well out-done himself, and Kal planned on letting him know that, first thing in the morning. Throughout the night, Kal took the opportunity to sample several of the wines that were being passed around, never drinking much, but enjoying the ones he did try. Several of the wines were newly imported from other planets that Krypton traded with, and it was anyone’s guess as to when Kal would next be able to sample them. He made a mental list of the ones he would attempt to purchase at a later date.

But best of all, the thing Kal loved the most, was that this time, Lois was almost constantly at his side.

That knowledge set the prince’s heart to soaring. Every time he touched her, every time he looked at her, his heart did a flip-flop in his chest. It made the entire event more than enjoyable. It made it actually a pleasurable experience, which took Kal off-guard when he realized that fact. Of course, there was the added bonus that he wasn’t the center of attention, and could slip out of the spotlight to the comfortable sidelines as much as possible. Jai was the center of attention, the one everyone was honoring. Well, Kal thought, Jai and Luci. Kal was more than thrilled that that was the case; that the two of them had gotten together and had formed a loving bond that seemed as solid as the one he shared with Lois.

And, he thought wryly, this time, he looked forward to retiring to his chambers at the end of the feast. He looked forward to putting his children to bed and then climbing into his own, with Lois. Perhaps, if either one of them still had any energy left, they would join together and make love. A slow smile spread over his lips at the thought, and he shot Lois a discreet glance. But she was thoroughly engrossed in a conversation with Zara, each of them holding their respective daughters close to their chests, each swaying as they talked, rocking the girls ever so gently.

He was slightly disappointed that Lois missed the look he’d sent her. But, in the same moment, saw Jai finishing a conversation with Lord Ra, so he took the opportunity to saunter over. He hadn’t had a chance yet to speak with his brother since he’d visited Jai in his chambers, hours before.

“Congrats, bro,” Kal said, thumping his baby brother on the back in an affectionate manner. “Welcome to the better side of life.”

Jai flashed him a thousand watt smile. “Thanks, Kal.”

“And you didn’t even flub your vows,” Kal teased him.

“No, I didn’t,” Jai laughed. “I almost cut off Trey as he was speaking them though, when I went to repeat them.”

Kal chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that. I saw the look Luci gave you when you did that too.” He shook his head in amusement.

“Aw, man. You saw that too?” Jai groaned good-naturedly. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Kal shook his head again, laughing. “Nope.”

“Good to know.”

“What are we teasing Jai mercilessly about now?” Ching asked, coming up alongside Kal.

“His race to repeat his vows before Trey finished speaking them,” Kal said.

“Ah,” Ching replied, raising his eyebrows in his humor and shrugging. “Got it. I can work with that.” He winked at his youngest brother.

“Oh, man,” Jai groaned again.

He looked ready to attempt a retort as Lois wandered over, holding a fussing Lin in her arms. She was flanked by Marthe, who was ushering a toddling Kel over to his daddy.

“Hey, guys, “ Lois greeted them in one fell swoop. “Jai, congrats again.” She leaned in and gave her brother-in-law a quick peck on the check. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. Are you heading out?” Jai asked, shooting a glance at the clock.

The feast still had at least another hour. Possibly even longer, judging on how deeply the gathered lords and ladies were still imbibing. Only a few scattered handfuls of people had already left.

Lois shrugged slightly, patting the baby’s back gently, trying to soothe her. “Sorry, Jai. I really am. But this little one needs a diaper change and a feeding.”

Jai nodded in understanding. “By all means then.” He leaned in and kissed his niece’s head. “Night, sis,” he said, looking again at Lois.

“See you in the morning,” she assured him.

“Maybe,” he winked at her. “Depends on how well the wedding night goes.”

Lois shook her head, amused at Jai’s incessant antics. “That’s my sister, Jai,” she said, in mock admonishment.

Jai grinned and shrugged. “And, your point is…?”

Lois playfully slapped his shoulder. “Goodnight.”

“Are you taking Kel too?” Kal asked.

“Yeah. It’s way past his bed time.”

“Nooooo!” the child protested, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand. “Not sleepy yet!” He stifled a yawn.

Kal smiled at his son. Then he bent and picked the child up. He smiled at Marthe. “I’ll take it from here.”

Marthe shook her head. “You should stay and enjoy yourself. I can help Lois easily enough.”

“Thanks,” Kal said, shaking his head. “But I don’t mind.”

Marthe nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “All right.”

“Aw, you’re taking my favorite little man away?” Jai complained good-naturedly.

Kal nodded. “He’s tired. He needs to go to sleep.”

“Nooooo! Wanna stay up!”

“See? He wants to stay and party,” Jai argued.

Kal chuckled. “You are a bad influence,” he said, a teasing tone on his tongue.

“Of course I am. I’m cool Uncle Jai!”

Kal exchanged a look with Ching. A mischievous grin appeared on both men’s faces.

“Just you wait,” Ching said.

“Wait? For what?”

“We are so going to influence your children,” Kal finished for Ching.

“Children? Hey, give me a break here guys. I’m only a newlywed!” Jai paled a little as he spoke the words. Clearly, he hadn’t yet given much thought to the inevitability of starting his own family.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ching said, shrugging.

“Aw, not cool, guys. Don’t freak me out like this.”

“Freak you out like what?” Luci said, slipping to her husband’s side.

“Oh, nothing,” Kal said, the mischievous look still dancing in his eyes. “We were just heckling Jai a little, that’s all.”

Luci raised her brows in a perfect imitation of Lois. “About?”

“Babies,” Jai offered, gulping around the word.

Luci nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Kal, am I going to have to tell my sister that you are scaring the wits out of my new husband? On my wedding night?” She put her hands on her hips, though Kal could tell she was at least half-joking.

“Uh…no,” he stammered, rubbing his son’s back as the boy yawned again.

Ching snorted a laugh and Luci turned to him. “You know, Zara and I are pretty close too,” she warned him.

“And on that note, I’d better get my son to bed,” Kal said, effectively disentangling himself from the conversation. “Congratulations again, Luci. I’m thrilled for you. Come on, Kel. Say goodnight to your aunt and uncles.”

Kel frowned. “Night.”

“Night, buddy,” Ching said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

With that, Kal turned and left the feast, stopping only to bid his father goodnight. Then he entered into the hallway. As the doors shut behind him, cutting him off from the festivities, he was enveloped in a blissful silence. His body sagged the tiniest bit with relief to be out of the public’s eye again, and from the lords and ladies who had been trying all night long to match their children with his own. He shifted Kel’s weight on his hip, then quickly made his way back to the chambers he shared with his family.

Once inside, he quickly got Kel ready for bed, getting him changed into the child’s favorite pair of pajamas and tucking him into his bed. As soon as the boy was settled, Fasa jumped up and curled into a ball, guarding Kel’s feet. Then Kal sat on the edge of the small bed and picked up the book that Lois had given him on the day he’d discovered that he was going to be a daddy. He thumbed through the book and found his favorite short story - a tale about a puppy who wanted a boy to love, and who had a few adventures before finally finding the right child to befriend. Kel was sound asleep by the time Kal finished reading the second page, so he gently set the book aside, kissed the boy’s forehead, and headed into his own bedroom.

Lois was there, sitting in the rocking chair she’d set up by the windows. She was gently rocking in it, humming a lullaby as she nursed their daughter. A slow, peaceful smile unfurled over Kal’s lips as he gazed upon the woman he loved and the tiny girl who had him wrapped around her little finger. He quickly crossed the room and kissed Lois’ head, causing her to smile up at him.

She didn’t speak. But her humming morphed into a low, whispered singing. Mesmerized by the sound of her voice, and the love he had for her, Kal sat on the edge of their bed. But before long, Lin had eaten her fill and fallen asleep. Lois started to rise from the chair, but Kal silently stood, reached for his baby, and whisked the girl off to her own room. He gently kissed her head, then laid her in her crib, before heading back to his own bedroom. Lois was already beneath the blankets when he entered, a loving, inviting smile on her face as he stepped into the room. Kal beamed a smile back, closed the door, shed his fine clothing, and joined her in the bed. They made slow, gentle, deliberate love that night.

When they were done, Lois curled up into his side, laying her head on his chest, just above his heart. Kal’s arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer as he lay on his back. His pulse was still racing, but he was completely at peace. Lois’ free arm draped across this stomach, and she squeezed his body in a tight hug. She breathed a sigh of contentment and her eyes fluttered shut. Kal could not hold back the smile from crossing his lips, and he leaned his cheek against the top of Lois’ head. His own sigh matched her own.

“I love you, Kal,” she murmured sleepily as he stroked her dark hair.

“I love you too, Lois,” he replied, “so very, very much. You are the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

Kal lay there for a short time, still awake, marveling at his life. He was more than lucky, he knew. His father had managed to arrange his marriage to the only woman on Krypton Kal could ever possibly give his heart to. Though their life together had started on a difficult note, they had both learned to look past the anger they held. And what they had found hidden behind each other’s defensive walls was nothing short of a beautiful, blinding, heart-altering, life-changing love they could share with one another.

In Lois, Kal had found his partner, his best friend, his love, his family, his very heart, and his home.

THE END

Café Americana

By Morgana <cynthia.mccoy533@gmail.com>

Rated PG

Submitted September 2012

Summary: What happens When Lois’ favorite uncle falls in love, but is too afraid to let the woman of his dreams knows how he feels? Sound familiar? Somehow, Clark has to keep Lois from playing matchmaker while trying to crack the case of a mysterious jewel robber. How to do that, when their wedding is only two weeks away? All in a day’s work for Lois and Clark!

Although he only made one appearance on Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Mike Lane has popped up quite a bit in fan fiction. Wouldn’t it have been great if the series writers had decided to make him a semi-regular like Dr. Klein?

This fic takes place in the same universe as my story ‘Stranger in our Midst’. It occurs between the time of Clark’s proposal and their evening garden wedding. A few people suggested that the segment regarding Rhapsody Knits and Café Americana could possibly stand on its own. At the time I was far too busy working on ‘Stranger’ to give it another thought. But in the back of my mind a small story was brewing. What if the owners of these two establishments very much wanted to became more than just friends? How to overcome the obstacles? Somehow Uncle Mike has to do this while planning a rehearsal dinner and catering Lois and Clark’s wedding reception!

There is also mention of a character call Lady Polara Lo. She is Clark’s maternal grandmother and her influence on Clark’s life will be explained in another upcoming fic called The Globe.

It is not necessary to read ‘Stranger’ in order to enjoy this story, but I won’t try to stop you!

Oh, since this is taking place in the ‘Stranger’ universe, Lois only dated Lex Luthor to interview him, Dan Scardino never showed up and Mayson Drake is just an Assistant District Attorney.

Many thanks of appreciation to several people: Anti-Kryptonite, UltraWoman, KenJ and most of all HappyGirl and Iolanthealias! Without their editing, this story would have been a complete mess! If I have left anyone out, please believe it was only because my memory is not what it once was, but that does not mean your contribution was any less valued.

Most of the characters and some of the dialogue are property of DC Comics and December 3rd Productions. I only borrowed them for a little while and will make not a dime of profit.

And now, gentle reader, without further ado…

***

Prelude

Midnight — Lois’ Apartment

“Clark, we have to get this whole mess straightened out immediately! Our wedding is only two weeks away!”

<<Honey, it’s going to be okay. After all we’ve faced since our engagement, this ought to be a piece of cake!>>

Even over the phone line, Lois could hear the smile in her fiancé’s voice and see him running his fingers through that luscious black hair. The visual made her smile — just a little. “Yeah, compared to the New Kryptonians this is the kind of normal Earth problem all engaged couples face when dealing with family and wedding arrangements.”

<<Yeah, it will be over soon and we can get on to more important things.>>

“Like our honeymoon?” she asked slyly.

<<Exactly! Hawaii awaits!>>

“OK, Farmboy. I’ll take your advice and get some sleep. See you in the morning.” They exchanged goodnights, hung up their respective phones and prepared for bed.

***

But Lois could not sleep.

Hugging close to her chest the stuffed bear Clark had won for her at the Smallville Corn Festival years ago, her mind raced, contemplating how they had tried several attempts to work around this current problem. After all, they were ‘The Hottest Team in Town’. They had endured tougher challenges than this particular situation! Earlier in the day they’d sat hunched over their desks making furtive phone calls, begged, pleaded and cajoled sources for assistance. Over lunch, Lois had asked Diane if any of her social connections could be of assistance. Unfortunately, there had been no relief from that quarter. Heck, she even called Seattle and asked Cat for help!

Even Superman, for all his powers, was helpless in this situation.

The couple’s level of frustration had ratcheted up a few notches as time grew shorter. Clark went on more than the usual number of rescues to ease his stress while Lois cleaned, organized and went over her insurance policies.

At the moment her apartment and desk at the Daily Planet were pictures of cleanliness and organization.

“What are we going to do?” She moaned into her pillow. Suddenly a plan fully realized bloomed in her mind. She must ask the one person in Metropolis with the needed connections to handle this problem. Hoping against hope for a solution she finally eased into a light sleep.

***

Part One

Early Morning — Café Americana:

He stood at his habitual spot just outside the café looking across the busy street to Rhapsody Knits, glancing at his watch and restlessly awaiting the arrival of the yarn shop’s owner.

“Good morning, Mike!” One of his regular customers called out, interrupting his ‘sentry duty’.

“What? Oh, good morning… Sherry,” he replied, wishing the woman would make her order and go away.

“What’s the special muffin today?” she asked.

“Rhubarb and strawberry,” Mike replied over his shoulder in an absent-minded manner. He was anxious to get back to his watching, thus missing the patron’s positive response. Sighing to himself, he walked over to Karen, the café’s hostess, and asked, “How’s the morning till?”

She tossed a long sinuous braid of red hair over her shoulder and answered cheerfully, “Just fine, Mike. Folks are raving about the new chocolate croissant!”

“Good! My niece suggested we add them to the menu. Her fiancé got the recipe from a little café in Paris.”

The hostess’s face split into a huge grin. “He’s got great taste in food and his choice in a future wife. Say, how many more days until the big event?”

“Ah! Less than two weeks and counting!” Mike responded with an equally large grin. The conversation over and the receipts checked, Mike returned to his vigil.

***

Only five paces away in the background, Ryan the head waiter and his assistant Zachary, who was swiftly going over breakfast orders, also observed their boss’s behavior.

“She hasn’t gotten in yet?” Zachary asked

“Nope, can’t you tell? He’s all nervous and stuff,” Ryan answered while smoothing his neatly trimmed brown mustache.

“Oh brother! It’s going to be a long morning if she doesn’t show up,” Zachary groaned.

At that precise moment, both men noticed a petite, handsome Asian woman in her mid-fifties wearing a light floral dress walk past the restaurant with quick determined steps. And then cross the street towards Rhapsody Knits. The waiters knew their boss was also aware of the woman’s approach. They noticed with wry amusement as he ducked hurriedly back into the café and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Here we go again,” Ryan said with a chuckle.

“This happens every morning,” his companion responded.

“Don’t worry, one of these days he’ll open up,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, but when? The busboys are betting he’ll just keep playing sentry duty and suffer in silence,” Zachary grumbled while shaking his nearly bald head.

“Really?” Ryan said in surprise. “I thought the wait staff had a betting pool riding on Mike finally asking her out by summertime. Oops! Get to your station. Here she comes!”

With studied casualness, the waiters sauntered over to expectant breakfast patrons and ignored the rapidly moving owner of Rhapsody Knits, Grace Chen.

“Good morning, Ms Chen. May I help you or is Mike getting your usual order?” Karen asked.

“Oh yes, my usual order of green chai tea and a yogurt parfait.” Her expression was a cacophony of amusement and confusion. “Excuse me; did you say Michael was getting it for me?”

Karen stammered and her face flushed red in a vain quest for the right words. “A…absolutely! Mike always bags up his usual morning customer’s breakfasts. A…all part of the service, you know!”

A shadow of a smile flitted across Grace’s delicate features and she answered in a gentle voice, “Of course it is. I shall wait here by the door until he comes out.”

At that moment, a smiling Mike Lane bustled out of the kitchen holding a crisp white paper bag with the name Café Americana emblazoned across the front. He walked past Karen as if she didn’t exist and went straight for Grace.

“Good morning!” he boomed with more enthusiasm than necessary. “Here’s your fruit parfait and hot water. The chai tea bag is on the side, not in the cup, as per your request.”

“Thank you, Michael, that’s very kind. I’m running a bit late today; my family is town and staying with me in the brownstone. Today we are attending my niece’s graduation from medical school.”

“You don’t say? Then it’s a big day in your family!”

“Yes, indeed. Lisa is the first doctor in the family. By the way, I know it is the middle of the breakfast rush, but may we speak for a moment?”

“Sure, Grace. Let’s step away from the cashier.” Turning to Karen he said, “Mind the wait staff for a few minutes please.”

Karen complied with a brief businesslike nod of the head. “Sure thing, Mike.”

The couple walked outside and talked in the same location Mike had stood sentry only ten minutes before.

Grace bowed her head, than looked up at her friend. “Um… well, Michael, I never got a chance to express my gratitude to you for having Mr. Kent write that lovely article about my shop. Nearly a year later and customers are still talking about it. In addition to that, Metropolis General has sent a few recovering cancer patients over to learn how to knit or crochet. It has done wonders for their morale.”

“Express your gratitude? Aw, c’mon, Grace it was high time the great work that you and the Rhapsody Knits staff and local artisans do was properly recognized. Besides, Clark was only too happy to write the story. After all, he did win a Merriweather award for it.”

“True, but I want to do something nice for you, so why don’t I knit a pair of comfy merino wool and silk socks? If the café can spare its owner for a minute, let me take some measurements to assure a custom fit.”

“Really?” Mike’s hands lay on his chest in surprise. “A pair of socks from the extremely talented owner of Rhapsody Knits? I’m flattered. Sure, I can spare a few minutes.”

Mike tried hard to conceal his sense of utter glee as he and Grace made their way across the street to her quaint yarn shop.

***

Exactly as she promised, Grace measured his foot and ankle and had him back at the café in no time at all. The breakfast rush was now in full swing. This was his favorite time of the day, when workers from all over Metropolis came in to grab breakfast and then select a sandwich for lunch. Many of these folks were regulars like Grace. He heard several of them call out his name in greeting and he returned the compliment. He was in the very midst of ringing up a large breakfast order when he heard a familiar voice — in high babble.

Mike looked up to see his beautiful niece Lois running towards him. “Oh! Uncle Mike! There you are! Thank goodness. It’s awful! It’s HORRIBLE!”

“Slow down! Slow down! Where’s the fire?” he inquired while skillfully bagging up the order. He could see his normally unflappable niece was in full panic mode. Especially since she was wearing a crisp plum two piece linen suit — with green flats. He decided it was best not to mention it. Knowing Lois, she had more suitable footgear stashed away in her desk.

“Oh, it’s terrible! Uncle Mike, the rehearsal dinner has been canceled!”

“What? Come again?” he asked.

“Mother and Daddy were supposed to work together on getting a restaurant and sending out the invitations to the wedding party and a few close friends.”

Mike closed his eyes and said, “Oh, boy.” He turned to Karen and said, “Take over here.” He guided his niece over to his ‘sentry post’ outside, studiously ignoring stares from the customers waiting to pay for their meal. Patiently, and for the second time that morning he had a private conversation with a special woman in his life.

Lois, now far away from listening ears, launched full throttle into total babble mode. “Yeah, well, fireworks always start when they get together, but I figured just this once for their daughter’s sake they could act like adults. They had picked La Cira, where Cat got engaged, than changed the location to Arabella’s, but Daddy wanted to use their banquet room, while Mother was determined to rent out the entire restaurant.”

“Why? There are only going to be forty people at the wedding and fifteen at the rehearsal dinner, right?”

“Mother feels we ought to have guests at the rehearsal dinner who aren’t invited to the wedding.”

“Uh huh.” Her Uncle said. “Let me guess. Some public relations guys from her publishers to help plug her latest medical mystery? By a brief interview at her famous journalist daughter’s rehearsal dinner?”

Lois stopped in mid-babble and said, “Mother couldn’t be so crass. Could she? Anyway, let me finish. They got into a huge dust-up with the manager because they couldn’t decide. The poor man had to have an answer, and since they couldn’t give him one he canceled the whole event and refunded their deposit.”

“Ellen strikes again,” Mike disgustedly muttered.

“Never mind that! We have people coming in less than two weeks! Clark and I have called in favors to every high-end restaurant in Metropolis. There’s absolutely nothing available for that Friday night!” I thought that maybe you might know someone who could open their place for us. Otherwise I don’t know what we’ll do!” Lois leaned against the wall, her eye filled with unshed tears. Despite the earliness of the hour, his niece suddenly looked very fragile and young.

Mike’s heart gave a lurch. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders and gave an affectionate squeeze. “Honey, there is one place available: Café Americana!”

“No! Absolutely not! Your staff is already catering the reception. It’s too much!” Lois’ eyes flashed in determination.

“What, are you kidding? Remember, I learned to cook in the army! Fifteen or one hundred and fifteen, it’s all the same to me. Besides, the banquet room ain’t gonna be used that Friday night anyhow.” He gave her chin an affectionate tap. “Come on; let your ol’ uncle have a little fun!”

“B…but Uncle Mike,” she replied meekly.

“No. It’s done. This rehearsal dinner will be a smash, just wait and see. Don’t worry about a thing. I will handle Ellen.”

***

There were not too many people in the world Lois Lane had utter respect for besides her fiancé. Mike Lane was one of them. She nodded in submissive acquiescence.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois noticed Grace Chen walking in the restaurant, obviously searching for someone.

“Uh, Uncle Mike, I see Grace is here.” Lois’ voice changed; there was approval in her teasing tone.

She watched as her uncle’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Grace looks like she wants to ask me something.” He absentmindedly patted Lois’ hand and fairly danced away from his niece to speak with Grace. Lois observed all this with wry amusement. At last, something sweetly unexpected besides a headline story to occupy her mind during all the wedding chaos. <I knew it! Mike’s got a thing for Grace! Wait until I tell Clark!> She was about to leave the café when Mike said. “Lois, don’t leave. I’ll have Ryan pack up a chocolate croissant and a low-fat latte mocha.”

“Good morning, Grace. How are you?” Lois asked.

“Just fine, thank you. How are the wedding plans?”

“They are coming along great, but Clark and I will be very glad when it’s over.”

Grace gave a heartwarming smile that reminded Lois of Martha Kent. She said, “Oh, have fun with the plans and excitement! Sooner than you can imagine possible, the first anniversary will have come and gone. Has Michael told you about his socks?”

“Socks?” Lois answered, slightly confused by the change in conversation. “What socks?”

Again, Lois could not miss her Uncle’s face turning an even deeper shade of red.

“It is a thank-you present for Michael. After all, he was the one who told your fiancé about my shop. Without that article we might not have gotten as much support for our artisans knitting items for cancer victims.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Grace…” Mike interjected.

“Uncle Mike’s right! What you and the group of knitters are doing is a help to many cancer victims in Metropolis,” Lois said.

“Thank you both. But, since it’s getting busy around here, I simply wanted to ask Michael what color socks he wanted.”

“Oh, uh… brown.”

“Perfect. Brown it is. A pair will be ready by the end of the day tomorrow! Bye Michael! Nice to see you again, Lois.” With those parting words, Grace made her way through the doors, carefully dodged a car while crossing the street to her shop.

Mike’s eyes gazed after her in loving appreciation. His niece looked on in bemusement and could not help teasing him gently. “So, Uncle Mike, what’s going on with Grace?”

“Nothing,” he murmured.

“Really? That’s not what I’m seeing.”

“Hey, kiddo, turn off those reporter’s instincts. There’s no story here!”

“Uh huh.” Her brown eyes glittered merrily, a complete change from the panicked bride to be who had stormed in mere moments before.

He was about to say more, but at that moment, several hungry customers came into the café, Ryan arrived with Lois’ breakfast, and one of the cooks was signaling him. “Uh… Lois, I would love to continue this conversation, but I have to get back to my job as owner/manager of this establishment. Now, remember about the rehearsal dinner. There’s plenty of room for fifteen guests. Bring everyone over around 7:00 p.m. Oh yeah, tell Dr. Pete Ross I don’t want him eating me out of house and restaurant! The last time he and his buddies from the hospital were here the kitchen ran out of flapjack mix!” With those words he handed the bag over to his niece, kissed her on the cheek and moved towards the kitchen.

“Thanks, Uncle Mike!” she called after him and quickly left the restaurant.

Part Two

Late Morning — Daily Planet

Clark smiled to himself as the familiar cadence of Lois’ heartbeat reached his ears. He was getting a little concerned, especially after their conversation late last night. The problem with the restaurant reservations was another in a long line of delays and problems with getting married. They were both almost to the point of cancelling everything and eloping. Maybe do something crazy — like get married on a hilltop — just them and some broken down old justice of the peace presiding as they exchanged vows.

At that moment, Lois stepped off the elevator, scampered straight down the ramp and with a happy expression on her countenance moved towards her fiancé’s desk.

“Clark… oh good, you’re here. Great news! We don’t have to worry about the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. Uncle Mike said we could have it at his place! One thing’s for sure: Mother won’t try to change things around. And another thing: Daddy trusts his brother’s cooking. Oh yeah, and one more thing — we, have to set up Uncle Mike with Grace Chen.”

Jimmy, who was discussing his latest Superman photos, smiled, patted his friend on the back and moved away. He knew better than to put himself ahead of Lois.

“Good morning to you, Lois. Now what’s this about Uncle Mike and his old friend Grace?” Clark leaned back in his chair and smiled, pleased to see his fiancée in a better mood than last night.

“Exactly! Mike needs a date for our wedding and it has to be Grace Chen.”

“No, we are not matchmaking! It never works out,” Clark responded emphatically.

“Tell her, Clark, that’s definitely not a sport for the faint of heart,” Science Editor Janet Owens said in passing.

“I’d rather go into a Boston bar in the North End wearing a Yankee baseball cap!” Steve called over from his desk.

“What are you guys thinking of?” Diane chimed in as she sipped her coffee. “Matchmaking almost never works.”

The voice of the Daily Planet’s editor boomed out, “Who’s matchmaking with whom?”

“Nobody around here, Chief,” Clark said with a shrug.

“Good, ‘cause this ain’t the lonely hearts club, it’s a great Metropolitan newspaper which ain’t gonna be so great if my staff aren’t working,” Perry said as he barreled over to the reporting team.

“Hey!” Lois shouted to the newsroom at large. “My fiancé and I were having a private conversation!”

“Not with your voice that loud, Lois,” Eduardo shot back, trying without success to hide a snicker.

Lois rolled her eyes in irritation and was about to respond when Perry said, “Never mind! What headline-grabbing story have you two got for me today?”

Lois sat down at her desk, took a sharp yellow number two pencil, began twirling it around her fingers and said, “You know, Chief, we’re researching sources and checking our facts…”

“In other words, you and Kent have nothing. Perry remarked casually. “Come on, kids, I’m not asking for a Pulitzer Prize piece, just enough material to fill six inches of space. Which does not include your Uncle’s love life. Get on it. Oh, by the way, Lois, nice suit, but the shoes don’t match!” So saying, Perry ambled over to Steve in the sports section to see what sort of havoc he could raise in that part of the bullpen.

Looking down at her feet, Lois squeaked. “I’m wearing green flats with a plum suit? Now I know this whole rehearsal dinner thing is getting to me!” She dived into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a pair of black pumps. “Wow, Perry’s in a foul mood,” Lois remarked as she kicked off the offending footgear.

“Bet the suits upstairs are giving him a hard time again,” Clark said sighing.

“Nope, not this time. Alice is forcing him to stick with his diet. She wants him to fit into his new tuxedo for the wedding and keep his cholesterol down.” Turning to her computer monitor she continued. “OK, the discussion about Uncle Mike and Grace can wait until later. We need to write a story for this evening’s edition. It’s time to contact Bobby Bigmouth.” Lois put the receiver to her ear and asked, “By the way, what are your parents doing today?”

“Mom is shopping and Dad has gone to the Home Station store for lumber.” Clark lowered his voice considerably while saying, “He’s making additional shelves for the ‘special closet’.”

Lois nodded, understanding immediately just which closet in the townhouse would be receiving the elder Kent’s personal attention. “Right. I’m sure Jonathan knows just what to do. Oh yes, don’t forget to tell them they are invited to the Café Americana for dinner this Friday night. Mike wants all of us to taste the food he’s preparing for the reception. Oh, did I tell you last week Martha’s recipe for rosemary biscuits is a definite as well as filet mignon?”

“That’s great! Mom will be very proud; that recipe has been in the Kent family for generations.” Clark hesitated a moment then said, “When are you calling Sam and Ellen to let them know Mike is handling everything?”

“Hmm, right after I contact Bobby. They know not handling the restaurant reservations properly was a big mistake. But they’re still my parents. Mother will probably bring up the subject Friday night at the food tasting,” Lois groaned.

“Right. After what they did to our rehearsal dinner plans, would it be too much to ask for a nice quiet evening as one big family?” His handsome face held a thoughtful expression.

“I’ll see what I can do. But don’t get your hopes up! Maybe Mike can ask some of his old army buddies to stand guard while we eat. Consider it early training in combat…Lane family style!”

A slow, easy smile spread across Clark’s face. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “There is only one member of the Lane family I want to have ‘combat’ with. But since we have to wait a little while longer, is there anything I can do to make the rest of Friday night better?”

Lois’ face grew flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes darted around the newsroom hoping no one noticed their intimate tête-à-tête. “Well, how about taking me to someplace simply amazing after dinner for dessert? Say maybe — Paris? I always wanted to see that lovely bakery where those sumptuous chocolate croissants are created.”

His eyes sparkled at the suggestion. “Hmmm, that might be arranged…”

Suddenly, Perry stormed past their desks and barked, “Lois! Clark! In my office! A story has landed in my lap that’s just perfect for The Hottest Team in Town!”

The partners looked at each other with quizzical expressions. “Bobby and my parents will have to wait,” Lois muttered as she put the receiver back in its cradle.

“This can’t be good. Perry has that look on his face,” Clark said as he funneled long fingers through his thick dark hair.

“The one with the toothy grin?” Lois groaned.

“That’s the one,” Clark answered nervously.

“Great. You know what that means.” They filled their lungs with air and simultaneously shouted, “Jimmy!”

He came bounding over to them a questioning look on his face. Placing both hands together and bouncing on his toes, he spoke in a joking tone. “My Lady and Lord, you bellowed?”

“Jimmy, stop playing games. The chief wants to see us in his office pronto. Be ready for anything!” Lois snapped as she stepped towards Perry’s office.

“Sure. Photography no problem. Story sidebars no problem. Doing research…big problem! The chief wants me to sharpen my skills as a photojournalist. So research is out. It’s kinda like a promotion! But feel free to use my protégé, Jack.”

“Jack?” Clark said. “No offense, he’s good, but he’s not in your class.”

“Lane! Kent! Get a move on, you two! The colonel didn’t have this much trouble getting Elvis into the studio!” Perry roared from his office.

“No time to discuss this now. Just tell Jack to get his computer warmed up!” Lois said as she followed her partner.

***

“Now maybe dropping this project in your laps this close to the big day is asking a lot, but what would you two say to a juicy case? This will be a great story. Guaranteed,” Perry said as he paced the cramped office and rubbed his hands in anticipation.

“Any chance of sharing the gist of the case with us — this century?” Lois asked as she made herself comfortable on the plaid covered couch.

“Oh sure, sure. You kids have been so busy with your wedding; I haven’t had the heart to disrupt the plans with any story that required mountains of research and hours of time. In any case, there has been a series of jewelry store robberies in the Topaz district of Metropolis. The robber’s MO is always the same; he uses tear gas to subdue his victims, then proceeds to steal the loose stones since they are easier to fence. Both of you work with Inspector Henderson and his people turn over every stone to bring this crook to ground. Those golden-throated sources of yours have to know something.”

“Funny, we were just getting ready to call one when…”

Jack knocked on the door, and then stuck his head inside the office. “Hey Lois and Clark! I’ve got some dude on my phone looking for you two. He says his name is Bobby…”

“Bigmouth!” The partners said together.

“He must have ears to match his stomach!” Perry said. “Well, don’t just stand there. Answer the phone! There could be a Kerth award on the other line!”

Jack jumped out of the doorway as the two reporters raced past him.

“No matter how long I work here, I’ll never get used to those two!” Jack said as he made his way back to his tiny cubicle.

Racing back to their desks, Lois set the call to conference mode so Clark could listen in. “Bobby, tell me you have the goods on this guy robbing the Topaz district.”

“Oh yeah him,” Bobby said in a tone bordering on respect. “Don’t know his name, think he’s new to Metropolis. But I’ll tell you what, he doesn’t use a gun. There is a partner who’s only there to help carry the loot. He’s pulled four jobs, all as smooth as silk and perfectly timed. Kinda like a good soufflé. Word is there’s going to be another big loose gem shipment coming into the district probably in the next couple of days. It’s a sure bet he’s going to pull another job.”

Clark jumped into the conversation and said, “Great, Bobby! What do we owe you? A large pizza with all the works?”

“Nah, consider this my wedding present,” he said. “After all, you guys — at least Kent does — provide the best tips!”

Lois worked hard to keep from laughing. “Bobby, speaking for both of us… that’s sweet.”

“Think nothing of it. Just have a great time on your honeymoon. Gotta go. I smell a tuna fish salad that’s just dying to be my new best friend!” Without further ado, the snitch ended the phone call.

Clark joined Lois at her desk and said, “Great, we now know this guy isn’t interested in hurting anyone, he just wants loose gem stones. It should be easy to track him down.”

“This has been a great day so far!” Lois’ eyes searched the newsroom, looked at her fiancé and whispered, “Farmboy, what else does this fantastic Paris bakery of yours have besides croissants?”

Clark’s mind went back to his early days of backpacking through Europe. He remembered the scent of freshly baked breads and pastries which had just emerged from ancient stone ovens and how those aromas tantalized the nose of a lonely young man far from his homestead. How the taste of the hot crusty breads made him yearn for the simple Kansas farm and all its familiar comforts. There were an assortment of pastries, breads, and delicate sweets to satisfy anyone’s fancy; he choose chocolate croissants for Lois because of her penchant for the flavor.

After describing the shop he said, “Honey, it will be a treat, especially after dinner at Mike’s.”

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose. “Considering we are less than two weeks away from getting married, my parents have botched our rehearsal dinner, Mother will probably attend the tasting — only to change the menu, Perry’s dropped this ‘juicy case’ in our laps… it better be!”

Clark stood up, smoothed his tie and said, “Look, I’ll get the conference room set aside so we can do some research on this guy — maybe ask Jack and Stacy to help. At least we don’t have to worry about your uncle’s love life right now.”

The brunette’s head snapped up quickly, she smiled and said, “Oh yes we do!”

Part Three

Mid-morning — Early Evening Rhapsody Knits

Martha Kent pushed gently on the heavy wooden and glass door of the store. As she stepped inside, the delicate sound of tiny bells chiming and the insistent ticking of an old wall clock reached her ears. <How lovely!> she thought as the last emanations of the bells faded away. Not only did the entry bell’s quaint tinkling bring back memories of a simpler time, but the yarn shop itself was a sweet mixture of past and present.

To the right were several tall, carefully marked large shelf units filled with colorful yarns of every possible weight and description. Cashmere blends for sweaters and socks, bamboo DK weight yarn for snuggly baby items and thick alpaca for hats and garments of all types. Perched on top of each black wall unit were body forms displaying elegantly knitted or crocheted sweaters, shrugs and shawls. Martha eyes flitted, from one perfectly created item to another. Her fingers began to twitch eagerly, ready to begin a new project. Being an experienced welder, she had coaxed life from cold inflexible metal, but to have a pair of hand carved bamboo needles in her hand and feel skeins of yarn become a lush comforting bed throw or warm garment — such creations demanded real skill!

Martha was so enamored with the beauty of the place that she did not see or hear anyone.

“May I help you, my name is Grace Chen?” an elegant middle-aged Asian woman said, approaching her.

Slightly startled, yet quickly regaining her composure, Martha answered, “Yes. Do you have any yarn suitable for knitting a bulky sweater coat?”

“Which color did you have in mind?”

“A variegated wool yarn, heavy cream with touches of red or burgundy. I want something that will work with much of my wardrobe. This sweater will be worn in a barn as well as in the classroom!” Martha said, her eyes twinkling in delight.

Grace nodded. “Perhaps Peruvian yarn might do the trick. Please come with me.”

The two women walked over to a high black shelf unit with several nooks each filled with yarns from Peru. Grace worked with her examining the various yarns and shades of cream and red. As they did so, more customers entered the shop and were helped by Grace’s assistants. Martha was duly impressed by the shop owner’s smooth efficiency. This was much better than the shop she frequented in Smallville. The aged, dilapidated and disorganized store was run by a crusty old woman, more interested in foolish gossip than helping her customers unearth the items they needed.

Working with Grace Chen was a welcome change and sheer joy. It was almost like going shopping with an old friend, wise in the ways of the knitter’s craft. Shortly they found exactly the color and amount required for the pattern.

“This will work perfectly. I better take one skein extra just in case, especially since I live in Kansas. Thank you so much, Mrs. Chen.”

“You are most welcome! But you need not worry. We can easily ship additional yarns or tools to you — Mrs.?”

“Kent. Martha Kent,” she responded.

Grace’s mouth formed a small smile. “You would not be related to the Daily Planet reporter, Clark Kent?” she asked.

Martha’s face beamed with pride. “Yes, he is my son. His father and I are here helping him prepare for his wedding to…”

“Lois Lane! Michael’s niece!” Grace said.

Martha laughed. “Exactly! Clark had told me about the article he had written on Rhapsody Knits. I should have mentioned it when I first entered your shop. But there were so many exquisite yarns, patterns and tools here that cannot be purchased in Smallville I completely forgot all about that.”

“Thanks to your son’s writing such a compassionate article, a number of crafters in yarn guilds stepped up to create warm hats and gloves for cancer victims. Please tell him hello for me.”

“I will indeed! There is so much to do with less than two weeks before the wedding, but I have been itching to take a peek inside Rhapsody Knits, and now that I have this yarn it will knit up beautifully. Clark will hear about this tonight over dinner. Speaking of which, I need to get a move on if I’m going to make a decent meal for my husband and Clark.”

Grace laughed as she rang up and packaged the yarn. “If your cooking is half as good as Clark’s writing, dinner will be delicious!”

Martha thanked Grace again, gathered her purchases and with a last look around reluctantly exited the yarn shop.

***

After Martha Kent’s departure, Grace assisted a steady stream of customers, some demanding, some pleasant and a few nervously approaching the art of knitting for the first time. It was a typically busy yet profitable day at the well-known Metropolis establishment. In between helping customers and directing her small staff, Grace sat behind the cashier desk and worked industriously at her computer and on Mike’s sock. The navy blue merino wool and silk blend felt warm and reassuring under her skilled fingers.

Inevitably as with all her projects she thought about the person who would eventually wear the article of clothing. <He is a most pleasant man, very gentle and loving, the kind who will stand by your side no matter what may come. Ah, if only he would open the door of his heart and bid me inside. There must be a reason for his reluctance.> She put the partially completed sock down and thought with a pang of sadness. <But perhaps I do know what obstacles stand in his path, yet am too afraid to give them a voice?> She continued to muse about her friend for the course of the day. Conversations they had shared in the past convinced her that he felt loneliness like the rustle of dead leaves in the wind — a sad empty feeling she knew all too well.

She remembered one instance in particular where he complained bitterly that Lois would end up an old maid with a display case full of prestigious but dusty old awards — yet no one to love — if she did not leave the newsroom every once in a while and have a real life.

A tiny smile tugged at her lips, <Perhaps he should follow his own advice and get out of that restaurant ‘every once in a while’ himself. It seems the Lanes are a family driven to be the best in their chosen fields. But not long after that conversation Lois began working with a mild-mannered young man named Clark Kent and the rest, as they say, is history.>

She sighed. <Sooner or later I have to decide whether to wait for him to make the first move or move in a different direction.> Looking down at her handiwork a decision bloomed in her mind. <Perhaps these socks will force a tiny wedge into his heart and we can begin to be more than friends?>

***

A few hours later Grace watched the door close behind her last customer of the day, a young woman anxious to recreate a complex shawl from her Grandmother’s old Icelandic pattern. They had worked hard to find the proper materials and tools to duplicate the pattern just as she had remembered its appearance to her as a child. It was an exacting task, but seeing the happy expression on the customer’s face when the correct materials had been assembled was reward enough for Grace.

Now with practiced ease she began the routine of closing the shop for the evening. First, she and her staff restored all the misplaced skeins of yarn and backfilled any sparse shelves. The floors and shelves were carefully swept and dusted and all the display items were brushed for lint. The register was emptied and locked and the black and gold bank bag readied for its nightly drop.

“Michelle, Christine, you can leave. I will make the drop tonight,” Grace said.

“It is getting dark. Shouldn’t we do that together?” Michelle asked with concern.

“Oh, I should be fine! Look across the street at that dinner crowd over at the Café Americana. Many people are milling around on the street, especially near the bank! Both of you go home. See you tomorrow morning!” She hugged both women and sent them out the door.

She locked the front door behind them and turned over the ‘Closed for Business’ sign. Lights in the large display window shone down onto numerous paraphernalia of the knitter’s craft.

Just before turning off the display lights she stood at the door of the shop gazing across the darkening busy street and saw Mike Lane greeting customers entering Café Americana for their evening respite. Leaning against the doorway Grace watched him for a time, her thoughts considering the friendly energetic man once more.

Many was the morning she would see him standing just outside the restaurant greeting customers and looking after people having their breakfast in the bright, morning sunshine rather than inside. They had gotten into a comfortable morning routine, she picking up her usual order and pretending not to notice he had been outside waiting for her to appear he pretending Grace was just another customer. Yet there was a tug of happiness, a string of joy which seemed to grow tighter as time passed and their friendship deepened. Mike was always catering her artisan events and she was a sounding board for incidents happening at the restaurant.

Theirs was a sweet, comfortable friendship, a place to come into after the storms of the day, yet Grace’s heart yearned for more. She was going to be fifty-five next month. Her children were grown and off on their own adventuresome lives. Her late husband Jeffrey had been an excellent provider, good father and a considerate husband, but their marriage had been more of a friendly business liaison punctuated by affection. After his death, Grace had sold their landscaping business and with single-minded purpose turned her love of the knitting craft into the comforting new reality that was Rhapsody Knits. For several years she endured widowhood with its expected loneliness. After her own brush with cancer she needed — no wanted to take on a new adventure, one of the scariest of all — falling in love.

The gentle chime of the wall clock reminded Grace of the time. She gathered up bank bag and her leather handbag, stepped outside, locked the heavy wooden and glass door and made her way across the street towards the bank.

“Good-night, Grace!” Mike shouted from his customary post.

“Good night, Michael!” She called back. A curious trill of contentment went through her being when she caught sight of him. With a happy smile playing on her lips, she walked on, satisfied at the end of a busy day.

Part Four

Four Days later at Café Americana

Early to late evening

Weekday evenings at the Café Americana were busy affairs, Friday nights especially so. Most workers, particularly the young married professionals and conservative businessmen, frequented the restaurant for its relaxed, unpretentious atmosphere and comfort foods. After a long hectic week, it was a great place to signal the beginning of the weekend.

The restaurant hummed with the sounds of a dozen conversations, some groups boisterously letting off steam, while others were muted with the distinct undercurrent of tension. The clinking of glasses against dishes seemed to sway in time with the atmosphere. Displaying easy, practiced precision moves, busboys noiselessly whisked away debris from the previous diner’s meals, skillfully replacing dirty dishes and soiled linens with gleaming cutlery, china and fresh white napkins. The wait staff moved to and fro between calmly taking a patron’s order in the main dining room, to the planned hysteria of the kitchen. They returned minutes later, bearing metal trays heavily laden with choice dishes, the mouthwatering aromas tantalizing the senses of all who breathed them in.

Managing the scene like a general patiently guiding his troops was Mike Lane overseeing any and all situations — whether it be getting a high chair for a small child or making sure there were enough mints for departing guests and whatever else was needed.

Whatever else meant this particular evening was presenting samples for Lois and Clark’s wedding reception meal to the happy couple and their parents. Ensconced in a large horseshoe-shaped booth sat the Lane/Kent party — the two families were laughing and exchanging stories.

Mike studied the group thoughtfully. Clark wore a charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt and a burgundy paisley tie — a definite improvement over the loud neckwear the young man usually sported. A quiet smile tugged at Mike’s lips. His niece was wearing a black suit with a burgundy paisley scarf. He wondered if the tie and scarf were planned or a happy accident? Either way it was a sharp indication of how much his niece had changed. In the past if a guy had appeared on a date wearing a tie that matched her scarf she would have promptly ditched the scarf — and the guy.

Martha and Jonathan were a loving couple of long standing; he recognized and missed the sense of teamwork and friendship there’d been between himself and his late wife Rita. After all these years, the once crisp memories had softened to a pleasant glow, but he treasured them still.

His brother Sam had worked hard to put aside old differences with Ellen to make their daughter’s wedding and reception a successful event. So far, he was the picture of fatherly pride and happiness. Even Ellen was on her best behavior, considering her elaborate plans for an overblown, fancy wedding for her daughter had been dashed in favor of a quiet ceremony. They had both behaved like adults until this whole rehearsal dinner debacle! No matter what happened, Mike intended both meals to be a complete success — despite the bride’s parents!

“Daddy!” Lois exploded, “Don’t tell Clark that story, he’ll think the worst of me!”

“Princess,” Sam Lane said with a sly wink, “he might as well understand the whole woman and not just the reporter.” Turning to Clark, he began relating the tale of how Lois burned the kitchen curtains in her one and only attempt at making French toast. When the story reached its painful conclusion, Lois’ face had grown flushed with embarrassment and mortification. Sensing his future daughter-in-law’s discomfort, Jonathan launched into an equally embarrassing tale about Clark, which the young man took in stride.

Ellen wanted to tell her own Lois story, but at that moment Mike appeared with another platter of food for them to taste. “Hey, enough embarrassing stories about the kids!” Mike said. “It’s time to sample the finger sandwiches, hors d’oeuvres, main dish and sides! Nunzio has been working in the kitchen all day whipping up his expression of the very best dishes for next week. Ha! The crowd at Arabella’s couldn’t make anything this good. I’ll bet Lex Luthor’s chef, Andre Fournier, couldn’t come close!”

The group savored the lavish samples and most were in agreement with the choices, except for Ellen. Apparently she felt that cucumber sandwiches with butter were too fattening. “After all, I’m thinking about the health of the guests. Look at Jonathan! The last thing he needs is extra calories!”

Martha had opened her mouth to say something when Clark, placing a restraining hand on his mother’s arm, hastily intervened. “Ellen, maybe a substitution can be made, perhaps cucumber and arugula sandwiches with goat cheese and Italian parsley instead of butter? This way it satisfies everyone.”

“Everyone except me,” Jonathan grumbled, nettled at the barb Ellen had tactlessly tossed his way. Although he had not known Jonathan very long, Mike knew the comment had hurt. The elder Kent was a product of his Midwestern upbringing. He had confided in him that Martha was the cook in their home and she always tried to make healthy, nutritious meals. It wasn’t her fault that he liked to sneak over to Maisie’s diner for helpings of her famous thick ham sandwiches and heavy desserts.

Mike was impressed at how deftly Clark had stepped in and smoothed over what could have been an uncomfortable situation. World travel and living in Metropolis had given Clark a sense of grace that his father as a Kansas farmer lacked. But for all the years he had known her, the utter thoughtlessness Ellen Lane sometime displayed was beyond him.

He figured now was a good time to step in before another word could be spoken. “Anybody want to try the rosemary biscuits?”

“Rosemary biscuits? Biscuits cannot be served with filet mignon and asparagus!” Ellen said in aghast.

“There is nothing wrong with biscuits and filet mignon. Besides, this is Martha’s recipe and Nunzio loves the idea,” Mike fired back, despite his earlier determination to remain calm.

Ellen responded quickly, “Nunzio is an excellent chef, but biscuits for my daughter’s wedding reception? Mike, how could you?”

Her former brother-in-law uttered a quick prayer, and then sat down next to her and said, “Easy, I made an executive caterer’s decision. Besides, the wedding cake you picked out is delicious! That’s your special contribution to the reception. So be happy!”

“Come on, Ellen, relax!” Sam said. “Mike’s doing a great job!”

Mike looked at his big brother and shook his head. “Nope! All the credit goes to Nunzio; I just provided the recipes.”

Happy applause ensued and requests for additional samples were heard. Lois leaned over to Clark and whispered so only he could hear. “At this rate, we’ll be too full to eat anything in Paris!”

“Well, by the time we get there Amandine should just be taking baguettes and croissants out of the oven,” Clark whispered back.

Mike’s face suddenly went still as Grace entered the restaurant wearing a stunning white pants suit. Not a few of the male patrons, including Jonathan and Sam, gazed in appreciation at the well-dressed woman as she moved serenely towards the booth. She came over and placed a gentle hand on Mike’s shoulder. In her other hand was a small green shopping bag with the stenciled logo ‘Rhapsody Knits’.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said to the table occupants. Then turned to Mike and said in a tone only meant for him, “Good evening, Michael.”

“H…hello Grace. You look gorgeous!” Mike whispered as he stood. “What is the occasion?”

“Remember, my niece graduated from medical school. The Yuang family is out tonight celebrating. We are going to see ‘A Little Night Music’ in the theatre district.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful piece of theatre, I’m sure the entire family will enjoy it!” Martha said enthusiastically.

“Yes. We were about to leave when I remembered to give you your presents.” So saying, with a gentle bow of her head, Grace, using both hands, presented the bag to a surprised Mike.

“Well!” Sam’s deep baritone could be heard at the next booth. “That’s a first; my brother is speechless!”

Mike felt happy butterflies flitting inside him as he took the bag. Inadequate words of thanks danced on his tongue, but Grace quickly spoke up.

“I wasn’t sure which suit you were wearing to the wedding, so I made four pairs of socks: navy blue, heather grey, black and chestnut brown.”

“Aw, Grace, this is too much. Thank you!” Now, fully recovered, Mike’s voice was firm and strong. The kindness and sentiment of the gift deeply touched him. He began to open the bag, but Grace laid her delicate hand on his work roughened one and said, “Please look at them later. I really should not have been so rude and disturbed this family gathering.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” Lois piped up. “In fact, if you weren’t going out with family we would ask you to join us. Right, Uncle Mike?”

“Yeah! Uh, no! I mean…”

“What Mike means, Grace, is that you are a friend of his, so that makes you a friend of ours.” Jonathan spoke in his usual gentle, quiet tones, but the depth of meaning was clearly evident.

“Thank you, Mr. Kent! I see where Clark gets such excellent manners.” Grace responded her eyes sparkled with delight.

Just than Mike noticed a tall, impeccably dressed Asian gentleman in his early to late fifties enter the restaurant. The man’s expression seemed tight with anxiety as he intensely searched the faces of the patrons and then spotted Grace. With a fluidness of movement which belied his age, he quickly walked around the tables and past waiters until he reached their booth. For some bizarre reason Mike felt uneasy. Why was this man looking for Grace? More importantly, who was he to her? A friend? Perhaps even more than a friend? She did say the family was going to celebrate her niece’s graduation. Was this fellow — her date? Insidiously the uneasiness coiled into something small and ugly he had not felt since Rita was alive — jealousy.

The newcomer nodded acknowledgement to everyone in the booth and, turning to Grace, said, “There you are! All and sundry are waiting. Remember, the curtain goes up in forty-five minutes.”

“Ah yes, but please, let me introduce you! Everyone, this is Raymond Yuang, my older brother. It is his daughter’s brilliance and determination to become a doctor we honor this evening.”

Mike felt as if a solid steel vise had released his heart. He beamed a warm smile. “Brother? You’re Grace’s brother? She has mentioned you on a few occasions.”

Raymond’s face relaxed a little and he spoke quickly. “Yes, I’m from San Francisco. My wife and I have been here in the past to visit our daughter. My sister has mentioned you as well, but unfortunately we have never crossed paths.”

Mike, now all smiles and congeniality, shook Raymond’s hand and said, “We need to correct that problem. Please come by for dinner tomorrow night and bring the family.”

“I am afraid that will not be possible. My family and I are flying to London tomorrow evening for a brief vacation. But perhaps on our return we can come for dinner?”

“Great! I look forward to it!” Mike answered.

Raymond said good-bye to everyone, turned to his sister, and escorted her outside.

Mike looked back at his guests, a lopsided grin on his face and jerking his thumb in the departing siblings’ direction. “Isn’t that great? He’s her brother.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Sam answered deadpan.

“She seems like a perfectly charming person. Mike, who is she?” Ellen asked.

“Mother, that is Grace Chen. She owns the knit shop across the street. I told you about her. Clark wrote a piece on the shop last year.”

“You two write so many articles, how can anyone keep up? Still, if she made socks for Mike perhaps she can make a sweater for me? There’s this darling pattern…”

Martha very diplomatically interrupted and said, “Uh, I think the socks were made as a present. Grace is too busy to with her shop and other matters to knit a sweater for just anyone. Besides, aren’t we here to sample food for the reception?”

Ellen, outdone again by no less than a Kansas farm housewife, did something very rare — she held her tongue.

For the remainder of the evening the group eagerly went over plans for the wedding and reception. The main topic was arranging sufficient tables and chairs to accommodate forty people in the townhouse backyard. Once the arrangement for the tables was in place, the equally thorny problem of seating the guests came next. Fortunately this was all settled by the time they reached coffee and cake. It was at this point, Clark mentioned that he and Lois had plans and would be leaving soon.

“Why?” Jonathan asked, “What’s going on, son? Perry gave you two another assignment?”

“Yes!” Lois answered, grabbing for a credible excuse. “We are trying to write an article about a series of jewel robberies and we need to contact a source!”

“Right,” Clark added, touching his glasses. “I forgot to tell you about this meeting, Dad. Lois and I will be out late, so you and Mom can enjoy the rest of the evening. Don’t worry about waiting up for me at the townhouse; it’s going to be a long night.”

“Just one minute, young lady!” Ellen interjected. “I have not seen your wedding gown since it arrived from the seamstress. Lois, you and Clark will have plenty of time to lurk around seedy back alleys and cemeteries, but I really would like to see this gown — such an unusual design. I’m sure Martha would like to see it as well. This back alley person can wait. Lois, please gather up your things! Its late, but maybe the three of us can catch a cab outside.”

Lois looked pleadingly at her father, but received no assistance from that quarter. “Your Mother’s right, Princess. Besides, isn’t this all part of mother/daughter bonding while planning a wedding?”

Mike looked at her and shrugged, but at the moment he was assisting one of the waiters with a problem. This time Lois would have to effect her own escape from Ellen. He watched as she fought hard to be gracious. With an effort, Lois smiled sadly at her fiancé, whispered something in his ear and departed with her mother and Martha.

Sam said. “Nice dinner and food tasting, brother. As usual the selections were exceptional. Jonathan. Clark. Want to share a cab?”

“Well, son, care to come back with me to the house?”

“Yeah, Dad, I guess our ‘stake out plans’ have been put on hold,” Clark sighed, trying to hide his disappointment.

Jonathan Kent looked at his son, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Don’t worry, son, there will be other days.”

Both men shook hands with Mike and thanked him for an excellent sample tasting. Joining Sam by the front doors, the three men exited the restaurant.

Part Five

Lois’ Apartment

Late Evening

Ellen and Martha stared at the shimmering silver creation suspended from the dainty pink satin-covered hanger, each woman’s countenance bearing a very different expression.

Martha gazed serenely at the dress, silently approving of her future daughter-in-law’s choice. The garment was nearly an exact copy of the gown worn by Clark’s maternal Grandmother, Lady Polara Lo. The official historian of Krypton was a regal yet tragic figure, one who filled in many of the cultural and historical gaps in Clark’s knowledge of his home planet.

To know Lois would be attired in a similar earthbound version of the gown filled Martha with pride. Her son had chosen well. Here was a woman happily willing to embrace both halves of Clark’s unique heritage. She glanced quickly at the solid gold bracelet on the younger woman’s slender wrist. Since the night of their engagement, neither she nor Clark had been seen without them on.

Ellen, on the other hand, did not agree with her daughter’s choice.

“This is what Clark will see you wearing as you walk down the aisle?” she queried.

“Yes! I love the design,” her daughter responded with firm resolve.

Turning to Martha, hoping to draw her in as an ally, Ellen asked, “What do you think?”

“Since Lois is the bride; the wedding dress really is her choice,” Martha responded with equal firmness.

“Naturally you agree with her!” Ellen turned away from them both and sat heavily on one of the settees.

Lois looked first at her Mother and then at Martha, helpless to say or do anything. It was just like Ellen Lane to create a scene in order to get her way.

“Talk to her,” Martha mouthed silently, as she began to furtively pick up her jacket and make for the door.

Lois gently laid the dress across the other settee and gazed at it lovingly. Even if Lady Lo had not appeared in the strange holograph wearing the silvery garment, she probably would have picked something similar, but how to make her Mother understand? Then quickly she came to a decision.

“Mother, neither you nor Martha have seen me in the dress completely finished. Why don’t I put it on?”

“Really? But I thought — oh, never mind, yes, put it on!” Ellen sighed as she shook her head.

Lois grinned and carefully, almost reverently picked up the gown. Then with a burst of energy ran towards her bedroom. She could hear Martha and Ellen talking in low tones. Oh how she wished for Clark’s superpowers — especially hearing — right now!

***

“This is so exciting watching our children take such a huge step together! I can hardly wait for their wedding day!” Martha said, trying to lighten the gloom which seemed to settle over Ellen like a fog.

“I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you only have a son, whereas I have two headstrong daughters, neither of whom listens to my suggestions.” Ellen turned her head towards the closed door of Lois’ bedroom and sighed even deeper this time. “It’s just that from the moment a woman sees her tiny baby girl for the first time she dreams of seeing that same child all grown up and wearing a fabulous wedding gown. But Lois wanted to do everything regarding the gown on her own; she didn’t even ask my advice about the fabric.”

Martha sat down next to Ellen and patted her on the back. She spoke consolingly, choosing her words with the utmost care. “Perhaps Lois meant to surprise all of us; the gown appears to be perfect — even regal — for her. It’s almost as if she were marrying someone of royal blood.” Realizing she had made a slip, she quickly continued, “Not to say my boy is a real prince, but shouldn’t every parent feel that way about their child? Besides, without your help Lucy and Lois might still be at the engraver’s trying to pick out invitations!”

Ellen smiled a little at that and said, “Neither one of those girls knows how to deal with a tradesman, but we got the best invitations for the money!”

“See! What did I tell you!” Martha beamed.

“Still,” Ellen sighed, “the dress is the centerpiece of any wedding. Maybe when I see it on…”

Suddenly the sound of a door opening, accompanied by the barest whispers of satin moving sensuously, reached both women’s ears. A vision of loveliness clad in soft glistening silver swept serenely into the room. The off-the-shoulder gown had a formfitting waist which flowed into a full skirt. Although Lois was small-framed, the gown did not overwhelm her. Rather its easy feminine lines enhanced her beauty. She was no longer an Earth woman, but a citizen of Krypton, Lady Lois, fitting consort to Kal-El, First Lord of Krypton.

“Oh my,” Ellen said, her voice cracking a tiny fraction. “You do look like royalty. The dress is perfect.” Tears sprung to Ellen’s eyes. She got up from the settee, excused herself and went in search of a tissue.

“D…did she like it?” Lois asked in a small voice as she smoothed down the fabric with a shaky hand.

“Oh, honey, how could she not help but like it? It’s a gown fit for a queen!”

“I…I overheard some of the conversation between you. Martha, do you mind if I talk to my mother for awhile?”

Martha was about to say something when Ellen came in, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Lois gathered her skirt and ran over to her mother, hugging her fiercely. She pulled back and studied Ellen’s tear-stained face. By excluding her from helping in the step-by-step creation of the gown, she had stolen a precious rite of passage. How would she feel if her daughter behaved in a similar fashion?

“Mother, forgive me for the way I’ve acted regarding the dress. It was unfeeling and wrong. Your help in putting together this wedding has been fantastic. Honestly the cake, the flowers, Lucy’s gown…”

“Remember the invitations? Wayne and Sally Irig thought they were very unique,” Martha chimed in.

“Thank you both, I feel so much better after seeing it on you rather than the hanger…”

Before Ellen could finish her sentence, the jingle-jangle of keys was heard in the hallway as well as two voices giggling mischievously. A cacophony of harsh metallic clicks assaulted their ears as multiple door locks were swiftly, almost savagely opened.

Lucy burst into the apartment, her head turned toward the hallway talking to her date in a teasing light voice, “Come on in, Jimmy. They won’t be home for at least an hour…maybe more!”

Her older sister stood up, crossed her arms and gave her sister a hard stare. The gracious Kryptonian noblewoman vanished, replaced by a decidedly annoyed Earth woman. “Sorry to disappoint your plans, Luce; we got home early!”

“Oh! I thought you weren’t going to be back until very late.” Lucy’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Hmm, I’ll just bet you did!” Ellen muttered.

All of a sudden Lucy realized what her sister was wearing and gasped. “Lois, the dress is fantastic!”

Jimmy’s mouth hung agape, but he quickly closed it. He had never seen his friend and colleague in so feminine an outfit. Clark was indeed a lucky man. “So, Lois, maybe I shouldn’t see you like this…?”

Lucy turned to see her date then playfully hit him on the shoulder. “Lunkhead! You’re not the groom!”

“Yeah, but your sister looks so — well — nice?”

“James Bartholomew Olsen, I’m wearing the most amazing dress ever and the only word that comes to mind is nice?” Lois fumed.

Jimmy shrugged and ran his hands through short cropped black hair. “Uh, Lois, you’re like my big sister. What else am I supposed to say?”

Mollified, Lois gave a curt nod and said, “OK, I can accept that. But you better not utter a word to Clark. Otherwise Perry is going to be looking for a new staff photographer!”

A sweet grin spread across the young man’s face. He raised his hand and said, “Scout’s honor!” He turned to Lucy, took her hand and said, “I had a great time, are we on for tomorrow?”

“You bet!” Lucy answered with a happy gleam in her eyes.

Martha spoke up at this point and asked, “Jimmy, if you’re driving, can you give me a lift back to Clark’s townhouse?”

“Uh, well, I used the motorcycle this evening.”

“Great!” Martha said, clapping her hands in excitement. “It’s been a couple of weeks since I rode a chopper. Do you have an extra helmet?”

“Yeah…it’s downstairs,” Jimmy responded, trying hard to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Fine, let’s get going. These ladies need to get their rest.” Martha said her goodnights to everyone and gave Lois a careful hug so as not to crush the gown. Then she and Jimmy exited the apartment.

Ellen shook her head, “Riding a motorcycle? That woman knows no limits!”

Lois and Lucy exchanged looks. That was the reason why Martha Clark Kent was so young at heart, she was always testing her limits, whereas their mother was tightly confined in hers.

“Well!” Ellen said happily, “Now that Martha is gone, we can sit down for a nice mother/daughters chat! Lucy, can you put on some tea while your sister changes out of that lovely gown?”

“Sure thing, Mom.” Lucy replied and quickly made herself busy in the kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling out cups, teabags, honey and a tin of shortbread cookies. She opened the tin and breathed in the scent of freshly baked cookies. “Hey, Sis!” she shouted. “Where did you get these? They smell delicious!”

Lois emerged from her bedroom wearing a Kansas State University t-shirt and black sweats. “Oh, Clark got them from a little teashop…” Lois eyed the tin nervously; the ‘little teashop’ was in Edinburgh, Scotland.

“Wow! He finds the best stuff! I wonder if he can share his contacts with me? After all, he’s family now.”

Ellen came over, took the tin out of Lucy’s hands and began arranging the golden brown cookies on a plain white plate. “Honestly, Lucy, there are plenty of stores in Metropolis. Bothering Lois and Clark every time you need something is impolite and annoying. Now, let’s all sit down and enjoy ourselves. It’s been a long time since I spent a quiet evening at home with my girls.”

Once the tea and cookies were set down on the coffee table, Lois and Lucy made themselves comfortable on one settee while Ellen ensconced herself on the other. At first conversation was slightly stilted; the younger Lane women rarely had a quiet evening with their mother. Once Sam Lane ripped himself away from their lives Ellen had had to work hard as a night nurse in Metropolis General’s ER. The position was brutal in both physical and emotional trauma, yet somehow Ellen managed to provide for them.

Lois remembered her mother’s only escape — reading trashy detective novels. One particular day Ellen decided she could write a better story than the ones she read. Over the course of a year, the incessant clack of typewriter keys was heard in the Lane kitchen. It took another year to pitch the manuscript around publishing houses until finally a small struggling firm took a chance and printed her novel.

The critics were lukewarm at best to Ellen’s efforts, but the general public enjoyed reading her detective story set in the corridors of a major research hospital.

The Lane family was in a better position financially, but the years of neglect on Sam’s part and Ellen’s pursuit of her next novel had estranged both parents from their children.

Lois had escaped by moving out at eighteen and attending New Troy University on a journalism scholarship. Without her sister’s attention and guidance, Lucy had become a party girl until she had the misfortune of meeting Johnny Corbin — a two-bit thug and sponger who eventually became the madman Metallo.

After Johnny’s death Lucy had taken a seriously look at her life and decided she desperately needed direction in her life. With her parents’ blessing and not a little financial assistance she had gone back to school on the west coast. Upon graduation, she returned to Metropolis and seriously pursued her career in sports medicine.

So now the three women sat in Lois’ apartment, determined to make up for lost time and be a family once more.

“So, how did the sample tasting go?” Lucy chirped.

“Surprising well,” Ellen said. “Even if your uncle thinks rosemary biscuits go with filet mignon.”

“Mother, the menu is fine.” Lois turned to Lucy and in a conspiratorial whisper said. “Uncle Mike may just have a girlfriend!”

The heavy ceramic mug hit the coffee table. “Excuse me. What girlfriend? When did this happen? Mike hasn’t looked at another woman since Aunt Rita passed away!”

“Oh, your sister’s just embellishing the event.” Ellen rubbed her chin and continued, “Although I must say he did look very relieved when he discovered Raymond was her brother and not a boyfriend.”

“See, there is something going on between him and Grace!” Lois crowed in triumph.

“No, he’s still in love with Rita,” Ellen snapped back.

“Mother, how can anyone have missed the exchange between them? And you call yourself a writer?” Lois responded.

Lucy watched as her sister and mother engaged in a lively verbal tennis match until she shouted, “Enough!”

Lois and Ellen looked at Lucy as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh, I guess we should fill her in. But young lady, this is what happens when you don’t attend family functions…”

Lucy swallowed her comments. Her mother was right, but the chance of spending time with Jimmy Olsen was not to be missed!

Ellen smiled, sipped her tea and began, “Now, as I was saying, it all started when Mike offered those delightful hors d’oeuvres…”

Part Six

Early morning — Daily Planet Newsroom

Even tourists who aren’t terribly food conscious could not fail to be awed by their first encounter with a Paris boulangerie shop window. Despite the recent emergence of ‘Twentysomething’ coffee shops and ‘fast food cafes’, Parisian boulangeries-patisseries have managed to withstand globalization, mass production and questionable marketing techniques by continuing to produce quality breads, pastries and cakes that are eye-catching, sumptuous, and just plain yummy. With one on practically every corner, you will never go croissant-hungry, but if you’re looking for that extra-special baguette or raspberry tart, here’s a guide to ten of the best bakeries in Paris…

Lois read hungrily about the different boulangeries and their products. Her mouth began to water and her stomach protested the lack of nourishment. She and Clark had tried on more than one occasion to sneak off for a brief date to Paris and sample some of his friend Amandine’s freshly baked wares. Sadly, something always came up, whether it was Superman rescues, wedding-related issues or this blasted jewel robbery case they were working on.

“At this rate, we’ll get there some time around our second wedding anniversary,” she sighed softly.

“Smooth, Lois, making plans for the second anniversary when the wedding hasn’t taken place yet!” Jimmy said as he walked to her desk with a large roll of stiff, heavy paper and a file folder under his arm.

“First, you have to have time to make plans for an anniversary,” she growled, looking up at him. “What have you got there?”

“A map of Metropolis’ Topaz district, indicating the time and places of the jewel heists by our friend, The Phantom.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re falling for that silly tag Eduardo stuck on this guy?” Lois shot back.

“I heard that!” called her amused colleague from the coffee station.

Ignoring the comment, Lois took the roll of paper from Jimmy and continued. “So setting aside our thief’s cheesy nickname, where did you get time to do all this?”

“I didn’t. Jack — with a little assist from Stacy — did. After all, I am a full-time staff photographer for a great metropolitan newspaper,” he said, mimicking Perry’s deep southern accent.

“Yeah, right,” Lois muttered as she began studying the sheet, her face growing more thoughtful as she read.

“Is the conference room free?” Lois asked.

“It is now, honey,” Clark’s voice carried over from his desk.

His fiancée looked at him askance. “When did you get here?”

“I…uh…came in just a second ago…from the …copy room,” he said while adjusting his tie.

Lois quickly took the hint, and after handing the map over to Jimmy, announced, “Let’s meet in the conference room in ten minutes. We need to go over this material and figure out when “The Phantom” is going to strike again.”

“Phantom? What Phantom?” Clark asked innocently.

Shaking her head in bemusement she continued, “Honestly Clark, you really need to keep up! That’s the new moniker of our mysterious sleep gas using jewel thief.”

“Hey, three seconds ago it was cheesy. What happened?” Jimmy asked.

“Woman’s prerogative — I changed my mind,” Lois said as she sauntered up the ramp.

“Honey, where are you going?” her fiancé inquired.

She turned around and looking rather sheepish, said, “Downstairs to grab a Double Fudge Crunch bar. Suddenly, I feel hungry.”

***

Exactly ten minutes later the trio was poring over the map and information provided by their research assistants.

“Jimmy, this is first rate stuff. I have to hand it to the research team of Jack and Stacy — the really delivered the goods. This map is very detailed, giving the date, time and location of each of The Phantom’s victims,” Clark said.

“Yeah, they do work well together. Stacy has encouraged him to reach for his full potential. Since Jack has completed his GED, she has even convinced him to attend college this fall.”

Lois looked up from her scrutiny of the file and said in a teasing tone, “Are you saying it takes two of them to equal one of you?”

Her colleague looked at her, moved his head slightly and smiled, “Well, since you put that way…”

Lois rolled her eyes in mock fury and went back to reading the file. At that moment there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” Clark called out.

Jimmy opened the door and Stacy Hunter peeked around the doorframe. When Stacy had first arrived in Metropolis her hair had been long and held in a ponytail with a dark brown plastic clip. Now, with a little encouragement from Lois and Diane, her brown hair was cut into a manageable style and the ugly horn rim frames of her glasses were discarded for lighter wire frames which opened up her face. The result was an attractive young lady, growing into her new city lifestyle and work environment.

Despite working in the Bullpen with all manner of odd personalities, most of whom she got along with famously, she was still a little shy around Lois and Clark. After all, it was because of their work as journalists that she wanted to work for the Daily Planet, and that it was here that her abilities as a researcher were always being used by The Hottest Team in Town.

“Come in, Stacy, Jimmy and Clark were praising your work. I think it is excellent — all this information about the stores. But what is this repair reference to Metrophone?

Stacy entered quickly and laid another file folder on the conference room’s already cluttered table. “That’s what I came to talk about. The day before each one of the robberies, Metrophone sent a team of repairmen out to each of the stores. I called all the stores to ask them about it and apparently there was intermittent heavy static on the phone lines, usually a day or two before the robberies. A repairman showed up to fix the faulty line. They would enter the shop, always followed by a security guard and work on the phone box. The repairman departs, the phone static problem is ended. A couple of days later — The Phantom strikes!” Stacy’s brown eyes lit up in excitement.

“Nice lead; one repairman showing up at a shop is fine, two a coincidence, but all five high-end jewelry stores having static on their phones? Impossible. It has to be part of The Phantom’s MO,” Clark said.

“Hmmm… maybe Eduardo’s got something there. After all, the guy is as smooth as silk. Uses sleeping gas to knock out all the customers and staff. No time to sound an alarm…” Jimmy broke off in mid-sentence. Then he stared at Stacy. “What does the repairman do while he’s there? After all, the security guard is watching him every step of the way?”

Clark was about to speak when Lois noticed a familiar far off look in his eyes as nervous fingers began fiddling with his tie.

“Hey, Clark! Why not ask No Knees Nolan if he has any leads on this guy and possibly his crew?”

Her fiancé’s gave her a grateful smile. Then, turning in Stacy’s direction, he said, “Nice work, this is an excellent lead. Maybe my source can corroborate it.” With those words he dashed out of the conference room.

Over the past few months the young woman had gotten used to Mr. Kent’s odd disappearances, but at this point she was a little surprised. As she shook her head, the freshly cut hair swung freely. In disbelief she said, “Mr. Kent doesn’t have to corroborate anything. Jack and I already did. I called Metrophone and asked if there were any records stating the need for line repairs in that area. No complaints about static on the phones were reported and no repairman was ever dispatched to those locations.”

“Oh,” Lois said in a small voice, but she recovered quickly. “Well, don’t worry. If I know Clark, he’ll find something to link The Phantom with his next crime…” <Oh great, she thought, how am I going to get Clark to do that?>

After Stacy departed the conference room, Jimmy asked, “Which one of the jewelry stores was the next target? If the Phantom is working a cluster pattern either of these two locations could be his next target.”

“Cluster pattern?” Lois’ expression was puzzled.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answered. “See — these three stores are at the top of the Topaz District, these other two are on the bottom. Two locations remain — Lazar’s to the bottom right and CJ Abelhammer’s in the center.”

Lois leaned over the table to examine the map further. “Hmmm… this whole pattern theory of yours might just work. If so, then Lazar’s store might be his next target. Ask Stacy or Jack to contact both stores, ask if they have experienced phone static, and, if so, when.”

Jimmy bounced expectantly on his toes. “Ok, that sounds good. Hey isn’t Lazar’s where CK got your ring?”

His colleague bit her lip and looked down at the sparkling diamond on the third finger of her left hand. It was modest by many people’s standards, but the simple perfect gem meant the world to Lois. She looked at Jimmy and nodded quietly. “Yeah, Mr. Lazar is a lovely man. I would hate to see anything happen to him or his staff.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get this Phantom Guy.” Jimmy spoke confidently as he packed up the map and files.

“We?” Lois fixed the earnest young photographer with a sharp glare, yet could not help smiling.

“Yeah. It’s been awhile since I’ve come along on a genuine Lane/Kent stakeout. Hey, the pizza — with extra pepperoni — is on me! Besides, the chief’s been badgering me to get more front-page photo material. In a stakeout like this there are bound to be plenty of action shots, especially if Superman shows up!”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with impressing Lucy, would it?” Lois said, arching her eyebrow.

Jimmy was about to strongly deny it, but nervously shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “Guilty as charged.”

Part Seven

Late Evening — Topaz District

Metropolis’ world famous Topaz District was a cacophony of sights, blaring noise and hurrying people during daylight hours. Ill-tempered bicycle messengers frantically weaved in and out of traffic in the narrow old streets, delivering items from less prestigious jewelry stores in Metropolis. Hotdog, pastry and soda vendors hawked their hot and savory wares to business folk too rushed for a proper meal. Impeccably dressed international gem merchants flew in from every corner of the globe for trade in their ancient business. This particular street, Austen Court, attracted some of the best gemstone cutters in the world. In the Topaz District young men — and a few determined women — were trained in the delicate art of precision diamond cutting. One slip of the hand could render a priceless rough diamond into a worthless piece of crystallized carbon. On any given day loose gems and diamonds worth millions were exchanged, examined and stored.

Lazar’s jewelry store and its rival, CJ Abelhammer’s held the largest collection of loose gemstones in the famed district.

Earlier in the day Clark had approached Mr. Lazar and informed him of the possible danger to himself and his staff. The older gentleman, with his trademark genteel manner, thanked Clark for his timely warning, but he was sure no harm would come to them.

“Young man, if I ran from every threat of theft, Lazar’s Jewelers would not exist. Please go ahead with this stakeout of yours. We will continue to conduct business as per usual. Tonight is our monthly inventory, so although the store shall be closed for business at the usual time, we will most definitely be here.” His eyes lit up when he said, “Please give my regards to your lovely fiancée.”

On any typical business day, the Topaz District literally teemed with people moving about from one shop to another. But every evening at five o’clock precisely the doors to the prestigious stores were shut. Then traffic quickly dwindled until the streets were empty and silent. Only a few cars remained parked and before long they would vanish as well.

But currently a certain silver Jeep Grand Cherokee was parked across the street from the jewelry store and Lois and Clark sat in the front seat; they had been on stakeout since closing time watching patiently for anything out of the ordinary. The fading aroma of pepperoni pizza hung petulantly in the air. Jimmy had eaten the last cold slice over an hour ago.

After taking a sip of low-fat mocha latte, Lois trained her powerful Zeiss binoculars on the storefront while Clark looked inside via his x-ray vision. Neither could discern anything unusual besides Mr. Lazar and his staff of two younger men moving about the display cases.

“Just another ‘exciting’ stakeout with Lois and Clark. We have been here since five o’clock, and so far nothing more interesting than a delivery of priceless gemstones has happened.” Jimmy spoke in bored tones into his microphone.

“Is this training for writing future articles?” Clark asked. “You have been faithfully keeping electronic notes every hour on the hour.”

“Yeah, were you planning on writing this story?” Lois said suspiciously.

“Hey, it’s Wednesday; you two are getting married on Saturday. I want Lucy to help me look for a new suit tomorrow after work. I can’t do that if we are sitting here on stake out again. But to answer your question; no not originally, but at the rate this so called heist is taking place, I might have to because you two will be on honeymoon in Hawaii!”

Clark could not help but smile to himself. The contemplation of a week spent in a tropical paradise with his future wife brought very pleasant thoughts to mind indeed. “Yes, we are really looking forward to Hawaii,” he said dreamily. “Still, I thought you were backing up Jack and Stacy, researchers extraordinaire? According to them — and No Knees Nolan, The Phantom is using a stolen Metrophone vehicle and pretending to be a repairman.”

“Yeah, Jack said Lazar’s Jewelers store had a visit from a ‘repairman’ yesterday, so if The Phantom is keeping with his schedule, Lazar’s gets hit tonight.” Lois suddenly went quiet, bit her lip and turned to her fiancé, “Oh Clark, why was Mr. Lazar being so stubborn? Anything can happen! After all, a few years back Metallo robbed his store! It would be awful if he or any of his staff were hurt. He helped you find the perfect engagement ring for me, and our wedding bands.”

“Don’t worry, Lois; nothing will happen. Besides they have plenty of security.” Clark spoke in such a manner as to remind her that Superman could move fast enough to prevent anything from happening to the older gentleman. He squeezed her hand and looked compassionately into her pleading brown eyes, all but forgetting their colleague’s presence.

Jimmy, on the other hand, had no intention of being ignored; noisily he cleared his throat and said in a serious tone, “Uh, Lois, mind if I ask a personal question?”

Lois turned slightly in her seat to look at him and then said reproachfully, “In the middle of a stakeout? Isn’t this the wrong time to be asking personal questions?”

Ignoring her comment, Jimmy shrugged, took a deep breath and said, “No time like the present. Do you think Lucy might be interested in a guy like me?”

Lois scrutinized Jimmy’s face as best she could with only streetlights filtering into the Jeep; she had suspected such a question had been looming on the horizon. Ever since his Friday night skating date with Lucy, he had been slightly nervous around Lois. He must have been contemplating this conversation, perhaps earnestly searching for the right moment to broach the subject, one fraught with minefields and traps of all kinds.

Lois, deciding to go easy on him, spoke lightly. “Sure Jimmy, why wouldn’t she be interested in you? After all, didn’t Ultra Woman tell me you were cute?”

He smiled thoughtfully at the comment, rubbed his nose and replied, “That was a really nice compliment from the lady. But without sounding like a jerk, I’ve grown a good deal both personally and professionally since then. My father has led an exciting life as an undercover agent, yet it didn’t leave a lot of time for Mom and me.” Jimmy hesitated and then continued. “What he does is important, yet I don’t want to be the kind of person he is. It’s time to sink roots and I’m serious about having a good relationship with the right woman… like you and CK have together. So it’s important to know before my heart gets involved, is Lucy thinking along the same lines?”

She thought for a moment. Jimmy deserved a good woman to share his life and if that woman could be her sister he needed to know if his chance was a realistic one. “Lucy has matured since she went to back to school. Her life does not revolve around fun and dating Neanderthals anymore. She’s very serious about having a successful career in sports medicine. Not monetarily, but where it counts, in helping athletes return to their sport after being injured.”

Clark’s quiet rumble was heard through the Jeep. “Jim, if you feel strongly about dating Lucy. Then by all means communicate with her your thoughts and intentions honestly. It is the absolute best way to begin any relationship. Having secrets or being inconsistent — a jerk — is the best way to end a relationship before it begins.” He looked sidelong at the beautiful woman by his next to him. He was a word class lunkhead for not revealing his secret sooner. He — and Lois —had learned the valuable lesson of honesty and openness in their life together. He dreaded the thought of Jimmy wasting time and making the same blunder.

Jimmy’s eyes were gazed in deep thought as he considered the conversation and his possible future with another woman named Lane. The couple watching him knew that the Jimmy who sat at Cat’s wedding reception six months ago flirting shamelessly with three young women had departed forever. Lois could not imagine having a better brother-in-law, but there would be plenty of time for that later. Meanwhile, they had a thief to catch.

Suddenly, Clark’s head cocked to the side and he began to listen intently. Lois sensed rather than saw in the grayness of the Jeep’s interior, his expression of concentration. She was about to say something to cover his imminent departure when a loud, metallic rending sound, cracking the smooth night air, wrenched her ears.

“What was that?” Jimmy whispered.

“If I’m not mistaken, it was the sound of a door being pried off its hinges! I’m going to call for the police.”

“But CK, don’t you have your fancy new cell phone?” Jimmy said.

A momentary silence filled the car, while Clark anxiously tried to figure out an excuse. Even Lois was at a loss for words. Clark groaned internally and decided to call MetroPD. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the bulky gray plastic device. He punched in the security code numbers, than 911. A message flashed up informing him he was out of the designated call area.

Snorting in disgust he said, “So much for technology! You two stay here. I’ll find a phone booth and call the local precinct.” So saying, he unlocked the door and bolted out of the car.

His partner called after him in a loud whisper, “Clark! Be careful, you don’t want those guys to see you!”

Jimmy tried to look after his fleeting form, but it was just too dark. “There he goes again! Your fiancé disappears at the drop of a hat! One of these days he’s going to do that when we really need him!”

Lois was grateful her friend could not see her biting on her lower lip. But right now she needed to deflect Jimmy’s attention away from Clark’s disappearance and back to Mr. Lazar’s jewelry store.

“Keep down, but be ready with your camera,” she whispered.

“Gotcha. Hey, look over there!” Jimmy said.

The incredulous tone in the photographer’s voice caught her completely off guard. From across the narrow street the spill of the street lamp provided an excellent view of Lazar’s. A strange heavy green mist or gas seemed to coil up malevolently from the floor. They watched in horrified silence as the owner and his two assistants began to shake, cough, and then without opening their mouths collapse. The gas grew thicker, so much so that it quickly obscured their view. Suddenly, without warning, the lights within the store winked out.

“Oh no!” Lois shouted. “We’ve got to help them.” She reached over to open the car door, but Jimmy held her shoulders fast.

“Lois, wait! Remember what CK said!”

Before she could answer, they witnessed two beams of light erratically highlighting the green mist within the darkened store. The harsh sound of shattering glass — probably the display cases — reached their ears. The front door abruptly flew open and some of the eerie looking green mist billowed outside. Lois and Jimmy could hear men’s voices sharply arguing.

A man’s voice squawked, “There ain’t enough here for all the risk! Let’s blow this taco stand before it’s too late!”

“No, my information cannot be wrong! Perhaps there are more loose gems in the safe,” a cultured voice responded.

“How are we supposed to open the safe? Old man Lazar is the only one with the combination! Look, we’ve got enough swag from this job! Let’s go. “ His partner snapped back in anger.

“No! Lazar owes me! I could have been the best diamond cutter in the District!”

“Sounds to me like The Phantom and his buddy are having a difference of opinion,” Jimmy snickered quietly as he released Lois.

Suddenly, a well-known sonic boom ripped through the night air, and a brilliant flash of red and blue sped past the Jeep and into the store.

Loud shouts of angry protests were heard from within the shop. Despite the hard illumination from the street lamps, neither Lois nor Jimmy could see into the building. Gradually the sounds of struggle stopped, only to be replaced by the reverberation of metal grating against itself.

“Come on, Jimmy!” Lois fairly launched herself out of the Jeep, with the photographer only two steps behind. They raced to the open door, barely heeding the gas, when the Man of Steel emerged with two men wearing gas masks, each holding their bound hands in front of them.

Lois stood in front of the trio and folded her arms, looking very authorative in her blue suit. “What do we have here, Superman? A couple of jewel thieves?” she said smugly.

Superman responded with his usual disciplined politeness, “Given their familiarity with the layout of the store and what The Phantom said about Mr. Lazar, it sounds to me like they are a couple of disgruntled former employees. Good thing they weren’t carrying guns.”

The older of the two men, perhaps in his late forties, raised his he head and barked, “I don’t believe in guns — OK? Somebody’s bound to get caught in the crosshairs. I use a little sleeping gas, wait for it to take effect, break in the back of the store, grab the loose gems and run. Nobody gets hurt, no fear of eyewitnesses talking. It’s a better, more elegant way to commit a crime.”

Jimmy, in the midst of frantically snapping pictures of the trio, smiled triumphantly, “Hmm, ‘elegant crime’… that oughta make a great quote! It should look nice under these shots — tomorrow’s edition is gonna sing! The headlines should read, ‘THE PHANTOM AND PARTNER NABBED BY SUPERMAN!’”

“The Phantom?” the assailant said, “Who came up with a cheesy moniker like The Phantom?”

Lois smiled, “A colleague of ours at The Daily Planet. He is going to be pleased to know you are a ‘gentleman’ thief after all!” she began to yawn, “Maybe I should get away from that gas, it’s making me sleepy.” Turning towards Jimmy she asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m a little woozy, but listen, police sirens. CK must have gotten a hold of Henderson.”

While this exchange took place, Superman gently deposited both assailants on the cold concrete sidewalk, flew swiftly inside the store and brought out Nicholas Lazar and his assistants. He checked their pulses to make sure no one was in need of a quick trip to the hospital. Once the examination was completed, the hero approached Lois and Jimmy.

“The fresh air should revive them.” He said. He cocked his head to listen. Now if you will excuse me. I am needed elsewhere.” Without another word, the Man of Steel flew into the night.

“Wow, that was quick,” Jimmy said as he watched the swiftly disappearing figure. “You know, Lois, ever since you and CK got engaged, Superman seems…well, a little standoffish.”

Lois felt her face flush. She was grateful the street lamp’s light was so harsh, otherwise Jimmy might have picked up on it. Before she could reply, she heard familiar footsteps behind her and Clark’s voice say, “What did I miss?”

Before either Jimmy or Lois could answer Clark, they turned as one at the sound of deep coughing — Mr. Lazar was rapidly reviving. All three raced to his side and knelt down beside him.

“Sir, please take it easy,” Clark said soothingly. “You and the others must have been exposed to sleeping gas; it will take awhile for the effects to wear off.”

The old jeweler looked at the younger man. Incredibly, despite the night’s events, his bright blue eyes held their familiar twinkle. “Right now, the night air has the crisp bite of champagne! It positively tickles my nose.” He breathed slow shallow breaths through his mouth and continued. “Mr. Kent it, appears you were correct this morning. Wh…what happened?”

Clark turned to Lois, his eyes quietly asking her to fill in the old gentleman.

Instead the task fell to Jimmy as he enthusiastically launched into a spirited description of the last five minutes.

By the time Jimmy finished, Mr. Lazar was sufficiently recovered to attempt standing. “Incredible. You say this…Phantom robbed my store? Where is he?”

“Over there,” Jimmy pointed to the criminals still sitting on the curb near the Jeep.

“That’s The Phantom!” he gasped… “Why, it’s none other than my former pupil, Phil Slater, and Reese Lloyd, one of my former salesmen!”

“Could Reese have used his insider information to help plan this heist?” Clark asked.

Mr. Lazar snorted. “Reese? He’s so dense he couldn’t find an emerald in a small canister of diamonds!”

“Hey!” the smaller man shouted, “that’s not true!”

“Some part if it must be!” Lois laughed. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here!”

Abruptly the night’s quiet was shattered again when Henderson’s police car and a patrol vehicle roared into Austen Court.

The police read The Phantom, aka Phil Slater, and his partner Reese their rights. As they were putting the assailants into the patrol vehicle, Nicholas Lazar related that Slater had had a promising career until his penchant for stealing gemstones was discovered. Reese had been his fence, selling the purloined items on the international black-market. This particular revelation added the final touch to the story. Jimmy was granted not only photo credit, but a contributing byline as well.

“What a great article! Perry will be singing Elvis songs all day!” Lois chuckled. “Even a little thing like Clark and me getting married can’t stop The Hottest Team in Town from breaking a story!”

***

It was a long time later after giving Henderson a statement, the trio returned to the newsroom and wrote up an account for the morning edition. Jimmy was so excited about the fantastic pix and byline that he wanted to call Lucy immediately and share the good news.

Lois adroitly put a stop to that thought. “Not a good idea, Jimmy. Lucy’s got to be at work-study early in the morning. Why not save the big news until tonight? Tell her over an excellent dinner.”

“Yeah, Jimbo, make sure it’s a quiet place, perfect for serious conversation,” Clark said as he leaned back in his chair.

“This has been a great night! Thanks, CK! Oh, thanks, Lois, for the ‘sisterly’ advice.” He patted Clark on the shoulder and surprised Lois with a quick hug. “You two are the best!” With those happy words he bounded up the ramp and disappeared inside the elevator car.

Lois waited until the elevator doors snapped shut. Then she whirled around and slapped Clark lightly on his shoulder.

“Nobody’s around, so you don’t have to pretend that hurt!” She snapped peevishly.

Part Eight

Two a.m. Daily Planet Newsroom

“Hey!” Clark said, clutching his arm, “What was that for?”

“No matchmaking my foot!” Lois began pacing back and forth in front of Clark’s desk. “You gave all this great advice to Jimmy, but you won’t help my Uncle Mike get together with Grace! What’s that all about? Some kind of cockamamie double standard against my family? Ok, so maybe my parents aren’t the poster children for staying together, but Mike and Rita did. The only thing that ended that marriage was death. Now my uncle has a possible second chance at love and you want me to ignore it. What about caring for Mike’s needs and wanting to see him happy?” Lois sighed and wrapped her arms around herself.

Clark’s expression transformed from startled bewilderment to complete comprehension. He stopped Lois from pacing by gently holding her shoulders and looking into those sweet deep brown eyes. As he spoke softly and slowly, his voice — that familiar rumble — entered her ear and caressed her sensuously all the way to her toes.

“Lois … Honey. Mike’s situation is different from Jimmy’s in so many ways. From everything you told me, his marriage to Rita was happy: home, children, a successful business they built together. Think about what you’re saying. As a mature man who’s lived a full life, he might deeply resent anyone pushing him into a relationship. If you really insist on nurturing their friendship, then by all means, encourage Mike to bring a date. If his choice is Grace, fine. But, afterwards, let them take it from there.”

After a few moments Lois nodded her head in acceptance. “Oh, Clark, you’re right. It’s just that Mike Lane has been more like a father to me than my own father. Oh, Daddy and I are getting along much better these days. Still, it’s hard to ignore all those years growing up when Mike and Rita were there for me. I watched him suffer while Rita was dying and helped him grieve when she passed away. He’s been lonely for such a long time. He deserves someone special.”

“With a family like ours to support him, he’ll never be lonely. As for finding someone special, only time will tell if Grace is the one.” Clark cupped his long fingers under her chin. “Mike will find someone, honey, but it has to be at his own pace — not yours.”

Lois looked at him intensely. Her lower lip trembled and her brown eyes brimmed with unshed tears. She whispered softly, “Like you found me?”

He nodded then opened his arms wide to gather her close. Lois held him tightly then spoke, her voice slightly muffled. “Thanks for not letting me make a mess of things.”

He answered in a slow western drawl, “No problem, Ma’am, all part of the service.” Releasing her, he walked back to his desk, sat down and hastily wrote an e-mail. “Speaking of which, we have given quite enough to Perry and the Daily Planet for awhile. I’m leaving a note to Perry, letting him know we are going on vacation, starting today.”

Despite herself, she chuckled softly, remembering once again all the reasons she loved this man.

“Now that this case is wrapped up, Miss Lane, would you care to accompany your fiancé to a much mentioned boulangerie for coffee and a freshly baked chocolate croissant? Oh, and did I point out the croissant or as they say in French pain au chocolat will be baked by a woman named Amandine… and — she lives… in Paris?” Clark bowed low and offered his arm to Lois.

A warm grin of sheer pleasure spread across her face. “Why, kind sir, I thought you would never ask!” She took Clark’s arm and together they walked up the red staircase towards the Daily Planet’s darkened rooftop.

Seconds later the familiar sonic boom was heard over Metropolis…

Dawn — Paris

The flight over was brief, all too brief for Lois who had flown the Atlantic Ocean before. Of course she had never seen it from this vantage point. She had never had the chance to appreciate the vast blackness below or the sea of stars above. In the inky blackness of the waters below, occasionally small points of light quickly appeared and just as quickly were swallowed up by the night. Lois reasoned they must be vessels of all sorts plying their trade upon the Atlantic. Wrapped securely in Clark’s voluminous red cape and wearing a pair of jeans and a light blue cashmere turtleneck, Lois was protected from the chilly air of Earth’s upper atmosphere.

They had stopped at their respective homes and changed clothes. Clark’s parents were sound asleep as befits folks who get up with the chickens. Lois’ mother was not staying at her’ apartment that night, which she counted as fortunate, and Lucy was sound asleep. Lois imagined the argument that would have ensued about her running around Metropolis at all hours of the night. Their former attire had been slated more for working in the newsroom and tackling jewel thieves. But her business suit and matching pumps were definitely not suited for a leisurely early morning breakfast and perhaps a quiet stroll along the Champs Élysées.

They landed in a darkened alley behind the bakery. Lois’ nostrils were offended by the anomalously mixed scents of freshly baked bread and garbage. She could hear the frightened hiss of a cat swiftly departing.

Clark chuckled, “I guess we scared the little guy.”

“You would be nervous too if a man and woman came upon you from the sky! We probably disturbed him in the middle of hunting a mouse.”

As they talked, they stepped cautiously out of the alley and onto a quiet, wide sidewalk. The night was slowly passing away and the streetlights were still on. Hand in hand they walked to the bakery shop called Chez Morel. Lois inhaled the sumptuous smells of freshly baked breads and heard her stomach rumbling.

“Sounds to me like somebody’s hungry,” Clark said.

“Farmboy, the only thing I’ve had in the past eight hours is a couple of soggy pizza slices and a low-fat latte. My stomach is looking for some serious food.”

The couple walked swiftly to the front door. Just as Clark reached to pull it open, a man hastily exited. He was rapier thin with a long face. In his right hand he held a long baguette and in the other a chunk of crusty bread. Seeing Lois, he bowed and held the door open with his foot.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” he smiled, taking in her beauty and totally ignoring Clark.

Lois bowed her head in quick acknowledgement of his kindness. The man smiled as they passed and let go of the door, right on Clark’s backside. If it were not for his quick reflexes, the door would have shattered.

Neither Lois nor Clark cared; their senses were being treated to a sumptuous culinary heaven.

The boulangerie’s space was large; on the left side stood a long marble green countertop covered with colorful pastries; éclairs, religieuses and tartes. On the right were white marble counters of different heights displaying all manner of breads: long elegant baguettes, thick country white bread, ring shaped breads called couronnes and the delightful sweet bread that looked like a muffin with a round dot on top, the fluffy brioche. Along that wall behind the counters were dozens of baskets filled with all manner of bread loaves, rounds and rings delicately sprinkled with herbs.

Some early morning customers milled about, their netted shopping bags already filled to capacity with the boulangerie’s wares. The female staff members working behind the counters were in the process of bringing more hot and crusty breads from the shop’s rear.

“Jacques! Combien de fois devrais-je te dire de ne pas claquer la porte sur le nez des clients? Mon Dieu! Cet homme!” [Jacques! How many times do I have to tell you not to let the door slam on customers! Mon Dieu! That man!]

The owner of the voice was a tall woman on the wrong end of middle-age. Her short cropped hair was as white as snow. But if her hair spoke of age, her unlined face belied it. With the exception of a few delicate lines around her mouth and eyes Amandine Morel looked younger than her sixty-two years. Her bright blue eyes shone with good humor, as she approached the couple, a small, knowing smile on her face.

“Bonjour, Clark! Back in Paris so soon? Surely your newspaper cannot afford to keep sending you here on such short assignments? She turned to look at Lois. “My young friend, you mentioned she was pretty, but said nothing about her being beautiful. This must be…”

“Madam Morel, my fiancée, Lois Lane,” Clark finished her sentence.

“Of course!” Amandine wiped her hands on a flour dusted apron and then enthusiastically shook Lois’ hand. “Mademoiselle Lane, it is a pleasure to meet you. Clark has spoken of you ever since he started working at the Daily Planet.”

Lois felt her face flush and said meekly, “Thank you. Clark has always told me about your shop. Just looking around the shop with the breads and pastries is fantastic!”

“Wait until you taste some!” Clark said with a grin.

Amandine laid a gentle hand on Clark’s shoulder and said, “Show her around, pick whatever food you wish. Tell any of the ladies I said it is my present to you.”

“C’est gentil, Amandine, mais vous m’avez donné de la nourriture gratuitement dans le passé. Je devrais” [Amandine, that’s kind, but you gave me free food in the past I should…] Clark started.

“No my young friend, accept this gift. It is a pleasure to see both of you so in love and happy. After all, isn’t that what life should be?”

“Thank you,” Lois said. She was already eying the brioche and croissants.

“You are most welcome! Please come back again. Do not forget to bring at least one wedding picture! Please excuse me; sadly I must get back to work. May you both have much success and happiness in your life together.” The tall woman enveloped them both in a quick hug. Then with long legged strides, moved effectively past customers and disappeared into the back.

“She is quite impressive,” Lois said.

“Yeah, she is.” Clark commented. “Almost every time I come to Paris I stop by to pick up something wickedly delicious. Now…what strikes your fancy?”

“Are you kidding, Clark? What doesn’t?”

***

It was still dark when they emerged from Chez Morel carrying a pink and blue bag filled with sweet and savory delights. They each held a large paper cup of coffee — freshly brewed from Amandine’s own kitchen. Early morning pedestrians were beginning to fill the wide sidewalks. No doubt workers either returning from work — or on their way — just like in Metropolis. Lois smiled to herself thinking of the similarities. Even in romantic Paris work still had to be done.

They passed several people and a few caught her eye. One was a heavily made up middle-aged woman, trying desperately to look ten years younger. Her slash of bright red lipstick formed an odd contrast to the dull red, black and gray scarf carelessly wrapped around her neck. In front of her another, much taller woman, with blonde hair, was more sensibly attired in a chic black suit with a crisp white blouse. She was obviously a fashionable lady who knew what worked for her.

A trendy young couple wearing black business suits walked by purposefully, the man was pushing a baby carriage which had floating above it a lovely pink balloon. Lois could hear the happy sounds of an infant cooing. The soft noise made her heart do a tiny dance, and for a moment her thoughts wandered into previously forbidden regions.

Behind them they heard the plaintive voice of a woman; her Midwestern accent reminded Lois of Stacy Hunter.

“Jordan! Slow down, boy, we’re almost there! The couple turned around to see a slender young woman with very long brown hair. She wore faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt. She was walking a magnificent golden retriever. The friendly dog strode right up to Lois and Clark, wagging its tail furiously.

Clark knelt down and patted the dog’s head. Its golden fur felt warm and silky under his long fingers. “Hey, boy, you’re a good dog. Must smell our food, huh?”

Je suis… sorry. Lui …well trained et normally lui ne pas courir to strangers. [I’m sorry! He well trained and normally doesn’t run up to strangers.] She said breathlessly in a mixture of French and English.

“You’re from America, right? Which part?” Lois asked.

“Oh good, you speak English! I’m working hard to speak only in French. It’s getting easier, but it’s nice to take a break. My name is AnnKay, from Casper, Wyoming. I’m here studying History at the Sorbonne. This frisky fellow here is Jordan and he does smell your food. I recognize the bag as coming from Amandine’s boulangerie. Sometimes — when he’s good — she gives him a treat, we are on our way there now.”

Clark stood up with a wistful expression. Amandine was a kind woman indeed, always ready to help a starving student or budding journalist. “Well, you don’t want Jordan to miss his treats.”

“Thank you! Enjoy Paris! With that, AnnKay walked — or rather was pulled on — towards the bakery.

Lois shook her head adamantly. “Don’t get any ideas! We already have a cat! Pepper won’t be too happy sharing us with a dog — no matter how beautiful!”

“Yeah, well we can table that discussion for another time.” He took her arm. “Right now we need to visit Notre Dame before the spotlights are turned off. It really is quite a sight.” Touching his glasses, he said, “Walking from this section of the city might take too long…”

“Are you saying we should go there by Superman Express?”

Clark nodded. He figured that in the twilight, no one would see them moving at accelerated speeds. Without another word, Lois hopped into his arms and off they went!

It took all of five seconds to reach the ancient building, its imposing form jutting into the brightening sky. It was an impressive sight, all history, mystery and romance wrapped into one structure. They decided to sit on a nearby bench to drink the remains of their coffees and share a chocolate croissant.

“Flyboy, next time we come back make it around midnight. Paris at night is so…romantic.” Lois said around a mouthful of the delightful pastry.

“Romantic?” her companion said with a teasing tone. “The Lois Lane I met years ago would never have used the word, much less apply it to herself.”

She took a contemplative sip of the still warm brew then said. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that Lois no longer exists! She wouldn’t be sitting here taking in the sights and sounds of Paris, only days before exchanging vows with a guy from Kansas.” Her brow furrowed. “She’d be probably too busy trying to dive into a case of bank fraud or busting a drug ring.”

“Hey! Don’t ever stop ‘diving and busting’…its one of the many things about you I love!”

In happy response, she laid her head on his strong shoulder and sighed in what could only be described as utter contentment. They sat on that bench, talking and contemplating the future and all the joys and frustrations that future would bring.

Slowly, softly, the greater luminary of the day began to rise and take its place in the early morning Paris skies. Their conversation dwindled to a pleasant quiet.

“Are you getting tired, Honey?” Clark asked as his long fingers stroked her cheek.

“Now that you mention it. Yes, maybe it is time we went home. Lane and Kent the reporting team might not be working, but Lois and Clark still have a few things to do before they exchange their vows.” She attempted, but failed, to stifle a yawn.

“We should find a quiet dark spot to…you know.” Clark made a sweeping motion with his hand as he stood up.

She took his arm and smiled up at him, “OK. Just be careful with Amandine’s presents! We don’t want to drop anything over the Atlantic.”

Part Nine

Early Morning — Late Evening — Café Americana

As was his habit Mike Lane stood just outside the door of Café Americana, watching regular early morning customers faithfully order their usual breakfasts. Of course, he had another motive for his sentry duty, but the lady in question had not yet arrived. It had been a few days, and he was curious to know how the graduation celebration had gone. Suddenly he saw her coming up the street, moving with her usual purposeful stride, looking absolutely lovely wearing a light peach colored dress. She had been to the florist; her large canvas shopping bag held a bouquet of stargazer lilies surrounded by sprigs of baby’s breath, their fragrant scent carried on the wind to his appreciative nose.

Grace came up to him smiling. “Good morning, Michael!”

“The same to you, Grace. It’s been a few days since I last saw you. How did ‘A Little Night Music’ turn out?”

Her eyes lit up with the memory of the evening. “Oh! It was as everyone said: ‘powerful, moving and yet very entertaining’.” My niece thought it was a great graduation gift. It’s a pity the visit could not last a few days longer. They wanted to be in London to catch an Egyptian exhibit at the British museum. It is the second half of their vacation before Lisa begins working at Metropolis General.”

“Well, I have no doubt they’ll have a great time. Tell Raymond they have a standing invitation at the Café Americana for dinner.”

“I will do that, kind sir. Is my regular breakfast order ready?” Grace asked.

Mike shook his head. “No, not yet. For some strange, but happy for the restaurant, reason, it’s unusually crowded this morning. Hey, my guys are fast, but not that fast!”

Grace smiled in acknowledgement, “Very well, I can wait.”

“Great. So,” Mike asked hesitantly, “what plans do you have for the evening?”

“Uh…nothing really. I’m meeting a friend — well, actually he’s a business acquaintance of Raymond’s — for drinks at La Cira.”

Mike suddenly felt as if his heart was going to drop and his mood change from contentment to disappointment. “Drinks… at La Cira? Tonight?”

Yes, Sidney Finch will be in town for a few weeks and Raymond wanted me to look after him — show off the sights of our grand city.” Mike studied her face closely and could see she genuinely meant to play tour guide to this newcomer to Metropolis. Still, he could not help but feel that the man was invading his territory — spending time with his lady. He was so deep in thought he failed to hear her next words.

“Oh, what were you saying?” He asked.

“I said, ‘Why not come with us’? It will be grand fun! As a lifelong Metropolis resident, you could probably provide a much better tour and better stories too!” Grace’s eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Oh no, no. Three’s a crowd,” he responded gruffly.

Grace looked at him. A puzzled expression marred her face. “Is it? I didn’t think spending time with each other and another person constituted a crowd.”

Just then Ryan, who had been standing a few feet away, came over to Mike, explaining there was a problem at one of the tables.

“Uh, I have to go, Grace. Enjoy your dinner. I mean your smoothie, ah, yeah. Listen, have a great day.” With those words he bounded off.

Ryan unfortunately was a hapless spectator to the brusque latter part of the exchange between the two friends. He witnessed the confused expression on Grace’s face and the disappointment and hurt on his employer’s. The younger man wanted to say something encouraging to Grace, but decided instead to continue his duties and keep the matter to himself.

***

Mike Lane went through the entire day being utterly unlike the friendly, easygoing man his staff knew and loved. He barked at the waiters; spoke in a surly manner to suppliers, and accidently disconnected one long-time patron while making reservations. The final straw came during the dinner rush; he thought one of Nunzio’s kitchen assistants was not moving fast enough on a particular order. Mike decided to create the dish himself. Unfortunately, his mind drifted to Grace, wondering if she was having a pleasant time with her brother’s ‘business associate’. He was called away for a moment and the dish was completely forgotten. When it emerged from the oven it matched his temper — burnt to a crisp.

Thankfully Nunzio was such an expert chef; he was able to recreate the dish in record time.

The situation had gotten so bad, Ryan had mentioned to Zachary and Karen that one of them had to talk with Mike and let him know his behavior was ruining the harmonious work environment of the restaurant and annoying his employees.

Ryan was completely unaware that Mike was in the cloakroom and had overheard his conversation. The café owner felt very ashamed, realizing he was taking his worry and disappointment out on everyone. After all, Grace had the right to date and have drinks with anyone she chose. His staff, one and all, was hard working and dependable. Truth be told, any and all mistakes or problems that evening could easily be traced back to his terrible attitude.

It was time to make amends to everyone — especially Grace.

Mercifully, the evening finally ended. It was after closing for the night, when all the kitchen and dining room cleaning was completed, that Mike gathered the entire staff together and apologized for his behavior. He went out of his way to make amends to Nunzio and the young apprentice. Once that necessary, but unpleasant, chore was completed, he dismissed the staff and the café was closed for the night. Now it was well after midnight and he sat, a solitary figure contemplating the events of the day in his mind and feeling very sorry for himself.

He started thinking. <Talking to Grace like that this morning was inexcusable. Snapping at her was mean and cruel. Why did I let her go out by herself with that Sidney Guy? Why didn’t I go with her? Who knows, it might have been fun to spend time with her, even if this other person was around. Maybe we all might have had a lot of fun! Ryan or Karen could have run the place while I was out enjoying myself. Café Americana has become my life since Rita died. It is long past time to move on, like Rita begged me to. Grace and I have to talk. It’s high time she knows my feelings for her!>

Just then he heard a gentle tapping on the door of the restaurant. Enough of the unpleasant mood lingered for him to want to answer in an angry voice, “We’re closed!” But he didn’t. Instead he looked up and saw Grace’s concerned face. Anxious that something might have happened to her, he rushed across the empty restaurant, dodging tables and chairs in the process, then fumbled with the lock and swiftly jerked open the door.

In a rough voice he scarcely recognized as his own, he said, “Grace! What are you doing here at this hour? Is everything all right?”

She looked into his face and said breathlessly, “Michael, I saw a single light on and you sitting alone. I thought perhaps something was wrong. Are you all right, my dear?”

The use of the words ‘my dear’ made him pause, take a deep breath and say in a gentler tone, “I’m fine. What happened to your ‘date’?”

Hurt and not a little impatient, she retorted, “Sidney was not a date.” She sighed tiredly and asked, “May I come in and have a seat? We really need to talk.”

Mike realized he was being something of a cad, stepped away from the door and gestured for her to enter, “Sure, make yourself comfortable. It’s been a long day.”

“For both of us.” She sat with serene poise in the wicker back chair he offered her. Wearing a pair of comfortable blue jeans and a faded red shirt she looked years younger. Patiently, she waited until he sat down beside her and then in a quiet voice spoke. “Maybe it was a date… at least from Sidney’s and my brother’s prospective.”

“Terrific, sounds to me like your brother was fixing you up,” Mike said morosely.

“Oh, don’t blame Raymond. After all, he’s my brother and has always wanted to see me happy and taken care of. But in any case, Sidney and I did have drinks, which progressed into dinner. He wanted to eat at Arabella’s. Which, you will admit is a pretty decent establishment. Sadly, I don’t remember tasting the food. He is a brilliant conversationalist, a perfect gentleman who walked me to my front door at a decent hour and even kissed my hand good night. Sadly during our time together and after arriving home, I felt the evening was a complete waste of time. My brownstone seemed so lonely and quiet; the walls were caving in on me. I had to get out, so I came here.”

“Oh, why is that?” Mike asked, curious despite himself.

“Because regardless of his qualities, personality and warmth, I didn’t want to spend time with Sidney Finch. All I could think about was…”

“Yes,” said Mike breathlessly.

“You,” she answered.

Suddenly he felt the walls of gloom tumble down, to be replaced by something like a shaft of sunshine, like something akin to joy. Words failed him, all he managed to push from his throat was a weak, “Oh”.

“Yes,” she said her voice and manner turning as shy as a young schoolgirl.

Mike’s heart was full, almost too full for words. Still he knew he had to keep talking, say something. “My lady, we have to talk, but first, can I make you something to eat? Apparently, Arabella’s food wasn’t good enough to tempt you.”

“At this hour? It’s got to be after midnight,” Grace replied.

“Ah, it’s much closer to one o’clock in the morning. What better time to indulge in an early breakfast?” Mike said, shrugging his shoulders.

She laughed, and her voice reminded him of bells tinkling. They stood up and Mike gallantly offered her his arm, which she gratefully took. Their steps were none too steady — they were too busy shaking with laughter — as they moved into the restaurant’s sparkling clean, stainless steel kitchen. Like a couple of excited teen-agers, they began to rattle off ideas for the morning’s feast.

“What about freshly ground Blue Mountain coffee?” he said.

“Eggs and toast?” she said.

“Toast? Woman, be serious — brioche!” he snorted in derision. “This is one of my famous breakfast brioches, so light and fluffy it will melt before the bread touches your tongue.”

“Yum! There’s a few remaining from yesterday’s breakfast?” she asked hopefully.

“Nope, but I can make us some!” he replied.

“Ah, no, remember… brioche takes two if not more raisings. We don’t want to be here when the morning staff arrives!”

He laughed heartily, “You are a baker — forgive me, I forgot.

“Forgiven. Forgotten. Besides, there’s more to me than just knitting!”

“Maybe brioche is out of the question, but there’s still some yeast rolls from tonight’s dinner.”

Laughter bounced off the walls. There was an easy camaraderie between the two — always had been from the first day they met.

“So, you really didn’t want to go out with him?” Mike said, picking up the conversation.

“Well, perhaps it was a pleasantly different way to spend the evening. But no, dear Michael, I really wanted to be with you. Why else would the invitation to join us be given? He was a pleasant enough fellow, a businessman, successful to be sure, yet not a man for me.”

“I’m a businessman.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “He makes ugly steel pipes for industrial sewage. You are a great deal more creative — and colorful!”

“Speaking of creative, I can whip up a mean salmon omelet.”

She made a contented humming sound, then, “Michael, that sounds positively decadent!” she laughed.

“Very well then, my lady, one ‘positively decadent’ salmon omelet with all the works coming up!” Mike’s voice sang out. He was feeling more alive than he had all day. He pulled open the massive door to the stainless steel walk-in refrigerator and began removing scallions, red bell pepper, fresh dill, Portobello mushrooms and a small piece of salmon.

All the ingredients were laid on the thick oak chopping table. With swift, expert knife stokes, Mike sliced and chopped the vegetables as Grace took out an iron skillet and laid it on the Wolff stovetop. Returning to the walk-in fridge, she searched diligently and found a tub of creamy butter. With quick movements she put two pats onto the skillet, watching as they slowly started to simmer, melt and gently bubble.

“Here, you’ll need this for the eggs.” Her kitchen mate handed over a small delicate wire whisk and a mixing bowl which held six large eggs.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Grace said. She began cracking the eggs with one hand.

He looked over to her and sighed. “Aha! A woman who knows how to crack an egg! That’s the way to a man’s heart.”

“Yes, well, when a woman finds a man who cooks, now that’s a real treasure!” she countered.

For the next few minutes they bantered and talked. Making their late dinner — early breakfast would be as much fun as eating it. Once the omelet was plated, Mike removed the yeast rolls from the warming tray. With a flourish characteristic of chefs everywhere, he placed the food in front of his guest.

“This is a work of art. I don’t know whether to eat it or take a picture. Thank you, Mike.”

“You are more than welcome. Come on, let’s eat!”

Picking up plates, forks and their coffee cups the couple made their to the staff dining table. Mike placed his items down, turned to Grace and taking her items, settled them into place as well. He then held the chair out for his ‘date’. As soon as he was seated, they tucked into their food.

As they lingered over the remains of the meal, Grace realized just how much she had wanted someone to share her life with. How special sharing something as simple as preparing a meal together made her feel. The only question remained, did Michael feel the same? Was he truly willing to make the next step? They had complemented each other throughout the evening. Now what?

“Michael, this was sinfully indulgent, just as you promised. If I were not so afraid of gaining weight from the high-quality breakfasts created in this kitchen, I wouldn’t always order a yogurt or muffin.”

“Come and sample whatever strikes your fancy. My door is always open to you, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”

They sat quietly for a while in the kitchen sipping freshly ground Blue Mountain coffee, flavored with just a hint of Amaretto creamer. Now was the moment to relax, absorbing the warmth and solace of each other’s company.

“This is nice,” she whispered.

“Grace,” Mike said tentatively.

“Yes?”

“Since you opened the shop years ago, Rita and I valued your friendship. A…after her death, my heart became brittle. Yet you remained a steadfast friend, gently pushing me to live again — for my children, friends, customers and myself. You called me to see how I was doing long after everyone else’s life returned to normal. I will always be grateful to you for that. It took a lot of courage; some…times I wasn’t very pleasant.

Remembering that awkward painful time she wiped a solitary tear from her cheek, took a short breath and spoke. “It was a hard task. You were in so much hurt… so much grief. But how could I not help? After the sudden death of my husband, there was a support system for me to lean upon. God, without them recovery would have been impossible. Still, bit by bit, step by agonizing step the foul darkness receded. How could I not help my friend do the same?”

“But Grace, three years later when you were ill with cancer, it nearly tore me apart. I wanted to say something, to let you know how deeply I felt. Fear stopped me in my tracks. Now the wasted time seems like a tragedy. I wasted even more time by standing every morning…”

“By the café’s front door and watching me walk to the shop. I think I have always known what you were doing.” she said, taking his hand.

His eyes opened wide in surprise. “You did?”

“Yes, and I felt the same way. But it did not seem appropriate to get involved with someone who had lost their wife to that same terrible disease. Once my cancer went into remission, it seemed unfair to expect anyone to perhaps have to suffer through such an ordeal again. Oh Michael, I wish…” The friends looked intently at each other. Words were useless.

On impulse, they leaned over the table and their lips met in a full sweet gentle kiss.

“Wow,” Grace giggled as their lips separated.

“That was groovy,” Mike said with a lopsided grin.

“Groovy? We are showing our age, Michael Lane; you for using that term, and me for understanding it!”

He touched her forehead with his middle finger and ran it through her sleek black hair liberally streaked with gray. “That’s fine with me. We suit each other perfectly. You my lady, are to use another old phrase, ‘outta sight’. We should stop wasting time and enjoy a real date.”

“A real date?” she snorted. “This is a real date. It is so much better than what happened earlier this evening.”

“Don’t you mean last night? It’s almost three o’clock in the morning.”

There was a brief moment of silence as they realized that in a short span of time they had gone from being friends to becoming a couple. Mike took her small hand and squeezed it gently.

“Oh my, I have to get home get some rest! In a few hours the shop has to be opened.” Grace said.

Mike leaned over the table and said in a husky voice, “What do you say to taking a little time off and enjoying tomorrow — today — with each other?”

She giggled nervously and then asked shyly, “Can we do that?”

“Sure we can! Haven’t we spent years building our respective businesses and hiring good people so we can take a day or two off every once in awhile? Listen, Lois is getting married on Saturday. Today is Thursday. I need a new suit to wear for the event. My very talented, very beautiful friend knitted four different pairs of colored socks. She has to help me pick out a suit that’ll look good for a wedding and smashing with one pair of those socks.”

Grace kissed him on the cheek. “Your friend knows just the place for such a suit!”

“Great! Uh, Grace, would you like to come with me to Lois and Clark’s wedding — as my date?”

“Yes,” she said, squeezing his hand.

He came around the table, pulled her to her feet and kissed her mouth. “Thank you! Let me tidy up this mess and leave a note for Ryan telling him I won’t be at work today. Besides, it high time I gave him more responsibility. Then my lady, I’ll escort you home.”

A short time later a very happy Mike and Grace exited Café Americana and walked down the street, arm in arm. The darkness of the spring night surrounded them, but between them and in their hearts a light as bright as the sun shone, promising many more such days to come.

Epilogue

High above Café Americana, Superman and Lois watched the couple walk serenely down the street.

“Lois, I think Uncle Mike is going to make a request to increase the headcount at our reception by one.”

“Oh, Clark, this makes the entire evening perfect. Uncle Mike and Grace look awfully cozy together. Who cares if he asks to increase the headcount? After all, he is the caterer! Wait until I tell everyone my uncle is dating Grace.”

“If he’s half as happy as I am, they won’t be dating for long.” He looked at his fiancée and noticed something on her cheek. “Hey, you’ve got a smudge of chocolate… let me take care of it.” Clark leaned close and kissed the confection from her face.

She giggled and said, “Only a few days more, flyboy.”

“I can hardly wait! Visiting Paris was an appetizer. Our honeymoon in Hawaii will be the main course,” Clark said.

“…and dessert.” Lois finished his thought. With his enhanced vision, he could see her eyes raking over his body.

“Minx! I’m taking you home before we skip the wedding and everything else!”

“No way, flyboy! We waited this long, we’re going the distance!”

So saying, the couple laughing in anticipation of their new life together flew on into the early morning darkness.

THE END

Burn

By HappyGirl <michelloyd@aol.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted January 2013

Summary: A summer 2012 ficathon story. (The title was the prompt.) Things are not going well for Lois after her disastrous almost-wedding to Lex, but don’t worry; it’s a ficathon story, and that means warm fuzzies.

***

Lois kicked off her sandals, dropped her sand-covered bag on top of them, closed and locked her front door, and let out a long sigh of relief. Normally she loved the beach, but being dragged there by her sister and mother in a transparent attempt to take her mind off her aborted wedding to Metropolis’s biggest criminal wasn’t her idea of a good time. Wearily, she headed for the bathroom to clean up for bed.

She felt the first warning twinge as she pulled her cover-up over her head and a second one when she peeled her swimsuit off. Tossing the damp, sandy garments into the bathtub, she peered at her reflection in the mirror. Yep, the makers of her “waterproof” sunscreen had obviously been guilty of false advertising. Other than the pale silhouette left by her bathing suit, her entire back was already rosy and well on its way to bright red.

A cool shower calmed the flames temporarily, but by the time she stood—clean and towel-wrapped—brushing her teeth, she knew that it was going to be an uncomfortable night. Padding into her bedroom, she rummaged through her lingerie drawer, searching for the least chafing nightclothes she could find. Reluctantly, she settled on the one gown she hadn’t worn for weeks, ever since she’d thoroughly embarrassed herself with the tacky move of thinking that it was appropriate attire for a serious talk with Superman. Unfortunately, its thin spaghetti straps, low cut in both front and back, and silky material made it by far the most comfortable garment for her sensitive skin.

Telling herself firmly that it was only a piece of clothing and not a memento of the time she’d made three serious relationship mistakes in one day, she slipped the offending nightie over her head. She tried to settle down to sleep, but after a few minutes she realized that she needed some medicinal help. Turning the lights on again, she rummaged through her medicine cabinet for a couple of Tylenol and reached for the mentholated skin cream.

***

For the third time that evening, Clark told himself that this would be Superman’s last slow flight over Metropolis before he turned in for the night. Not that he’d found anything worth stopping for on the last two rounds; he just dreaded another night of trying not to think about Lois and counting the days until the Daily Planet was finally up and running again. Perhaps subconsciously, he left Lois’s neighborhood for last. She hadn’t been home the last two times he’d passed over her apartment, and even in these relatively quiet days when there was no Daily Planet to send her on dangerous errands, he’d sleep better if he knew she was safely in her bed. When Lois’s apartment came into view, he was relieved to see the light coming from her bedroom window. She was home, finally. He was mentally reciting all the reasons why it would be wrong to actually x-ray into her bedroom when he heard Lois cry out in pain. In no time, Superman had wrenched her living room window open and stood in her bedroom, gaping wide-mouthed through her open bathroom door.

***

Moments earlier

Lois twisted from the waist. She brought her arm around from one side and then from the other, but to no avail. She tried reaching over one shoulder, but that didn’t work either. It was no use. She was never going to be able to get any of the cream onto the center of her back where her skin stung the worst. Maybe she could use some kind of tool. She looked around her bathroom for inspiration, but nothing jumped out at her. Where was that loofah back-scrubber that Lucy had given her? She bent over to look in the under-sink cabinet, and in the process she knocked the heavy jar of cream off the counter. It fell, hitting her bare foot right on the sensitive spot at the base of her big toenail. As she instinctively straightened up, she banged the top of her head on the corner of the still-open medicine cabinet. She let loose a scream from a combination of pain, surprise, and frustration.

She would have followed up the scream with a string of choice expletives, but

at that exact moment she heard a grating noise from somewhere in her apartment and, almost simultaneously, a deep, familiar voice from her bedroom.

“Are you all right?”

She hadn’t seen Superman in weeks, and now here he was standing in her bedroom staring at her while she was dressed in nothing but a flimsy nightgown. Before she could answer, he seemed to realize that she wasn’t in any actual danger and began pouring forth a stream of awkward apology.

“I’m so sorry, Lois. I had no right to just barge into your apartment. I heard you yell out and…”

She held up one hand to stop him, even though the movement made her mouth twist in a small grimace. “That’s okay, Superman, it’s not your fault. I guess with all the times I’ve yelled for you to rescue me, you must have sort of an automatic response to my screams.”

He didn’t look very reassured. “I was just finishing up my regular patrol when I heard you,” he stammered. “I should have—”

“Knocked? On the window, maybe?” she asked, rubbing her bruised head in spite of herself. But her attempt to tease Superman out of his obvious embarrassment didn’t work the way it always did on Clark. Well, used to work on Clark, anyway. The two of them hadn’t exactly spent a lot of casual time together lately.

A concerned frown creased Superman’s brow and he said, “You’re hurt. What happened to your head?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nothing serious; just clumsiness.” Moving carefully, she closed the cabinet and picked up the jar of cream from where it had rolled next to the toilet. “I dropped this on my toe and then I bumped my head on the corner of the cabinet. It’s been one of those nights.” He made a little gesture of sympathetic inquiry, so she explained, “I went to the beach today, but my sunscreen didn’t work very well.” She held up the squat, round jar of skin cream by way of illustration. “This stuff works pretty well on sunburns, but I can’t reach the middle of my back.”

Superman blinked once or twice, but then he seemed to recover. “Please, allow me,” he said smoothly, stepping calmly into the bathroom and reaching for the jar.

Oh, no. That was not what Lois had meant at all, but it would only make things even more awkward if she refused his offer. As he took the jar from her unresisting hand, she realized in a sickening flash how the whole scene might easily be misconstrued. After all, she’d known more than one girl in college who regularly made use of the ‘Could you please rub this on my back?’ ploy to attract a guy’s attention. What if Superman thought she’d screamed on purpose so she could try the same thing on him?

She was frantically searching her brain for a graceful way out when Superman’s fingers touched a cool dab of cream to her very sore back and she made an involuntary flinch.

“Sorry,” his rich voice rumbled in her ear.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, wondering whether he remembered the last time he’d seen her in this outfit. Who was she kidding? There was no way that either of them would ever forget that night.

“Wait a minute,” he said, setting the cream down on the edge of her tub. “I have another idea.” Catching her eyes in the mirror, he motioned for her to stay still. Then he took a couple of steps back and said, “Tell me if this is too cold.”

Lois felt a stream of soothing air across her sore skin. “Wow! That’s amazing!” Turning to face him, she rolled her shoulders experimentally. “It feels completely better.”

“I’m glad.” He actually smiled for a brief moment, but then he glanced toward the door to the living area. “I should be going,” he said. “Sorry again about…well, breaking in. I’ll stop by Clark’s place and ask him to come fix the window for you.”

Lois had been so focused on Superman that she had completely forgotten about the damage he’d done on his way in. “Don’t bother,” she told him. “I’ll just call the building manager in the morning.” At the sudden widening of his eyes, she assured him, “I won’t tell him how it happened.”

“Well, I should be going.” He turned to make his way through her bedroom. She grabbed her robe from the foot of her bed and followed him into her living room. Luckily, he stopped to examine the damage to the window frame, so she caught up to him before he took off.

“Superman,” she started, wrapping the robe around herself and tying its belt in a half-bow. He turned, and when her eyes met his, she almost said, “Never mind,” but somehow she found the courage to go on. “I want you to know that I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Didn’t do what?” he asked, one eyebrow rising in confusion. She wished she had stuck with the ‘never mind’ option.

“I didn’t wear this—” she motioned to indicate the silky gown that peeked out from the bottom of the robe “—or cry out like that to try to…you know…lure you here under false pretenses or anything. I mean, I know we parted really badly the last time I saw you, and…well…I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry. I don’t really feel…that way…about you anyway.”

“Lois, I know you wouldn’t—” he began, but then he stopped. “You don’t?” He sounded genuinely surprised. Not necessarily disappointed or relieved, just surprised.

Lois picked at an imaginary bit of lint on the back of her loveseat. “No, I don’t.” Then another possible misunderstanding occurred to her and, still not meeting his eyes, she hastened to add, “I never loved Luthor, either. I never really thought I did. But I really did think I felt that way about you; I wasn’t lying that night.” She glanced up just long enough to see him looking at her intently, obviously trying to puzzle out where she was going with all this. “I thought so then, but I was wrong.” Her eyes returned to the safety of the loveseat as she shuffled her bare feet a little and wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice was almost a whisper, but she forced herself to finish. “I found out too late who I really love, but he doesn’t feel the same any more.”

The sound of Superman’s gasp made her look up. He took two steps toward her, his cape swaying slightly as he walked. “Any more? Who doesn’t love you any more?” His brown eyes bored into her as if he were trying to use his x-ray vision to search her brain for the answer.

She turned her head away and waved him off. “It doesn’t matter, Superman. He just wants to be friends, and that’s all I have a right to expect after the way I treated him.” One hand snuck up to wipe an errant tear. Taking a deep breath, she faced her hero with her chin up and a watery smile on her face. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles. I just wanted you to know that I won’t be bothering you with any more unwanted attentions.”

She expected him to say goodnight and fly away. That’s what he’d always done before. But not this time. Instead, he walked toward her and started to reach for her, but held his hand back at the last instant.

Bending his head to look into her eyes, he asked in a tight, very unherolike voice, “Is it Clark?”

When she didn’t answer, he pressed her. “Lois, please tell me it’s Clark.”

Finding her throat too tight for talking, Lois just nodded. “I broke his heart,” she choked out, her eyes fixed on the toes of Superman’s shiny red boots. She could feel her face crumple into despair, but she stumbled on with her confession. “He handed it to me like a gift, and I threw it back at him. It’s a wonder he’s still speaking to me at all.”

Suddenly Lois found herself enveloped in a cocoon of blue Spandex, a strong chin resting on the top of her head. “Lois…oh, Lois! You’re wrong about Clark. It’s not too late; he never stopped loving you.”

She shook her head sadly against Superman’s solid chest. “You don’t know how I treated him.” She pushed away just enough to look up into his face. “I was cruel. Did you know that…that day, the day when I asked Clark to have you meet me here…I’d just rejected him? Then I asked to see you in the next breath. What was he supposed to think? How heartless could a woman be?”

Superman swallowed hard. “I’m sure he was hurt. But I’m just as sure that he loves you and forgives you. And I’m sure he needs forgiveness from you as well.” He released her from his embrace and gave her an encouraging little smile. “Talk to him, Lois. Tell him what you told me. Trust me, you two will be pretty even on the forgiveness front.”

Lois just shook her head. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Superman, but Clark already told me that he just wants to be friends. It would be completely unfair of me to press him for anything more. He told me that he lied when he said he was in love with me—that he was just saying it to stop me from marrying Luthor.”

“And you believe him?” Superman asked. “Because I don’t.”

She shook her head. “No. He loved me. It was written all over his face that day. But afterwards…the way I rejected him and then ran to you and then to Luthor…the way I refused to hear anything Clark had to say about Luthor…he fell out of love with me. Any man would.” She looked at him with a determined glint in her eye. “I’m not going to hurt Clark by bringing it up again, and you have to promise me that you will never tell him anything about my feelings for him.”

Surprising her again, Superman shook his head. “I can’t promise that, Lois.”

“What do you mean you can’t promise that?” Of their own accord, her hands began waving in time with her words. “It’s not your secret to tell! I thought Clark was your friend. If you went to him and told him that I’m in love with him, you’d just be ripping open old wounds and making it impossible for us to be friends the way he wants us to. Why would you do that to him?”

“Because I know that you’re wrong, Lois,” Superman pleaded. “Clark loves you. He never stopped loving you. He will always love you.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he closed the distance between them and lifted his hands tenderly to her face, forcing her to look into his. “Lois, I will always love you.”

Looking up at Superman, Lois was shocked by what she saw. With that one, life-changing declaration, every vestige of the aloof hero melted away. All that was left was naked, unashamed adoration. She’d seen that look once before, and there was no mistaking it. Hardly daring to breathe, she reached up and traced the fingers of one hand slowly across his forehead, using the other hand to gently caress his cheek.

“Clark?” she breathed. He just nodded. Running both hands almost frantically over his face, neck, and hair, she said, “Oh my God, it’s really you! I can’t believe it.”

She reached up to plant a hard kiss on his lips. She pulled back to discover Superman—no, Clark—grinning at her—a true Clark Kent grin like she hadn’t seen in a long time. Then she slapped him right in the middle of Superman’s S. “And you…all this time…”

“I know,” he said softly, catching both her hands in his. “Forgive me? Please?” His earnest eyes held hers, full of hope and pleading in equal measure.

“Only if you’ll forgive me,” she replied, suddenly shy.

“Done,” he answered without a second thought.

“And done,” she agreed.

He bent his head to seal their bargain with a second kiss, slower and more tender than the first. She reached her arms up around his neck, he wrapped his around her back, and she didn’t feel even a twinge of pain—just the perfect warmth and comfort that she’d been sure she’d never know again.

THE END

Wrong Trilogy, Book 1: Another Dimension, Another Time, Another Lois

By VirginiaR. <lc.virginiaR@gmail.com>

Rated PG-13 for adult themes and WHAMs a plenty.

Submitted: June 2012

Summary: This time Tempus succeeds in destroying Utopia with unrealized consequences. Now, it’s up to Lois to save the day before time runs out. Set in an alt-canon-dimension (but not alt-dimension). A Dark Comedy, emphasis on dark. Wrong Trilogy, Book 1. Each book in this trilogy is stand-alone and can be read in any order.

Author’s Comment: This is Book 1 of my Wrong Trilogy and is a prequel to Book 2. It is a stand-alone story, but I suggest reading it before reading Book 2. That being said, you may – however – read the three Books in any order (the wonders of time-travel stories). Should you decide that this story is entirely too dark for your taste, feel free to skip it and move on to the lighter Book 2. Book 1 is not required for understanding Book 2 (or, for that matter, Book 3) of the Trilogy. The Books are set chronologically in alt-Clark’s life.

Author’s Notes: I moved “Witness” to its rightful spot after “Man of Steel Bars”. Flashback and/or dream sequences, as well as inner dialogue, are all shown in Italics. ~ Surrounds Lois’ inner dialogue (replacing “.”) ~

***

Prologue

Clark knelt beside her grave. He came here often just to talk to her, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Since meeting and falling in love with Lois Lane – that Lois Lane who was tossed into his dimension by Tempus – he realized that there could be no Superman without her… some version of her. Sure, he could rescue people, stop the bad guys, and breathe in and out, but without a Lois Lane he felt empty inside, unable to truly live. Without a Lois, there was only this façade; there was no Clark Kent, no one who truly understood him. Without her love and support, he didn’t know how long he could keep up this life.

It troubled him that he was being selfish, that he would change this newly discovered Lois’s destiny because he needed her, that she wouldn’t get a choice in the matter… Not that she would choose the alternative.

True, he rescued people every day without this being a dilemma. He had even saved that other Lois before without this being a problem. This time it felt different. His motivation felt different. Even though he knew he was saving her so that her current fate would change, he was also saving her in hope that she then would save him from heartache. That was the selfish part.

If she knew why he was rescuing her, would she resent him? Would she think that he felt she owed him something? Would he ever be able to convince her that he would be happy just having her in the world? Breathing in. Breathing out. Knowing she was safe, hopefully happy. He would not expect anything nor should he. He would love her. He didn’t require that she return his love.

Actually, it would probably be better for her if she didn’t. Friendship would be nice though, having her available to talk with, to laugh at his jokes – pathetic as they might be, to challenge him. With Lois Lane in his world – or in this case, him in her world – he would be a better man… a better Superman.

Clark heard a sound behind him. Without turning his head from where it rested against Lois’s tombstone, above her empty grave, he knew H. G. Wells had arrived to take him on his journey.

“Are you sure about this, Clark?” H. G. Wells asked him and not for the first time.

“We’ve been over this, Herb. Lois needs me. Without my interfer… help, she won’t survive.” And without her neither would he. “I promised I would save her.”

“Lois is dead, Clark,” Wells reminded him. “The decision is yours and yours alone.”

Clark sighed.

“I know this was my idea, but now… I’m not sure,” Wells went on. “I hate leaving any dimension without a Superman.”

Clark nodded. He hated that too. “Isn’t that why you suggested this in the first place? So her world wouldn’t be without a Superman? If it doesn’t work, I can always return. At least, this new Lois will have a second chance at life.”

“I’ll come back in three months, Clark, in case you decide to return home.”

Clark took one last long look at the gravestone. He would miss her – his Lois. He didn’t want to leave her, but the other Lois needed him. He closed his eyes and pictured her in his mind. ‘I will always love you,’ he told her, reassured her… reassured himself. He would never – could never forget her. This woman he had never met, never saved.

He stood up and picked up his suitcase. He glanced around this ‘world.’ He would miss this dimension. It was so different from the one where he was going. This was home. He sighed. “Let’s go,” he told H. G. Wells.

Clark was taking a huge risk. If this other Lois discovered his secret, she would have the power to destroy him. Unlike any bad guy he had met, this woman had that power over him. Should she choose to be, Lois could be more deadly to him than Kryptonite.

***

Chapter One

Meanwhile, in another dimension at another time with another Lois…

“What do you mean baby Clark is dead?” Lois screamed at H. G. Wells.

The man had turned the color of ash. “He’s not breathing,” Wells responded in monotone, clearly in shock.

“That can’t be!” Lois argued with him, taking the no-longer-glowing green rocks off the baby. “Clark? Clark?” she called out to the universe. “He can’t be dead.” She picked up the unmoving infant and held him to her chest. “He just needs to be away from the Kryptonite and get some sunlight,” she explained to the author. “He can’t be dead,” she repeated. “He can’t be.”

Tempus – whom it took longer than expected to knock out – was starting to rouse himself from unconsciousness. He blinked his eyes a few times then he focused on Lois and the baby.

“You killed him, you sick deviant of a man! Who kills a baby?!” Lois hollered at Tempus, tears running down her face. She kicked the man in the stomach and then the crotch.

“It worked?” Tempus replied in a grinning daze, between gasps for air. His face froze and he murmured, “I feel funny.” Suddenly, Tempus seemed more a collection of atoms and less a solid mass. A breeze passed through Rocky Cove and Tempus disappeared.

Lois turned to Wells. “Where did he go?”

Wells gulped. “I believe he erased himself from history. Superman or one of his descendants must have saved the life of Tempus’s mother, father, grandparents, or great-grandparents at some point. With Mr. Kent gone, Superman is no longer around to save them; therefore, Tempus was not conceived.”

She set the baby down on the ground in a patch of sunlight. “Come on, Clark. Survive.” She started to give the baby CPR. “You don’t need to have superpowers, Clark. I just want my best friend back. Please.” She didn’t know what she was doing. She knew CPR for adults, but this wasn’t an adult. This was a baby, a roughly three-month old infant, from another planet. She had no idea if she was doing any good, but she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t. This was Clark.

Wells set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Lane.”

“Live! G*d damn it, Clark. Live!” She begged the still infant as she rubbed his chest. “Live. You aren’t allowed to die, Clark.” Sobs wracked through her. “I love you.”

Some time passed as she wept over the body of baby Clark. Wells set his hand on her shoulder again. “We need to go, Ms. Lane. I should get you back home.”

Lois pierced him with a cold, sharp glare. “We aren’t leaving Clark,” she told him, her voice hoarse.

“All right, Ms. Lane. What should we do with him?” the writer asked softly.

“We should put him back in his ship. The Kents need to find him,” she announced, getting to her feet and picking up the infant.

H. G. Wells seemed perplexed. “What would be the point…?”

She ground her teeth together and spoke through pressed lips. “Better them than Bureau 39.”

He nodded and they walked back to Shuster’s field in silence. They found the ship and Lois set the body inside. She rested her hand on the globe. This was the same sphere Clark had found at the warehouse – the globe that Jack had stolen from him and then sold to some collector. Clark had never told her what he had learned from it. He… never could now.

She picked up the sphere. The green continents of Earth melted into red continents. “Krypton,” Lois whispered and tucked the globe next to baby Clark. Maybe it had healing powers. Maybe it would save Clark from this fate. Then she picked up the lid of the ship and fastened it shut.

“Shall we return to the time-machine, my dear? Or do you want to say a…” H.G. Wells’s voice petered out.

“How are the Kents going to know he’s here? Clark said his folks had found him at dusk. They had seen the meteor crash and went to investigate and found him, but if the ship has already landed…?” Lois looked around. “It’s almost dusk now. We need to do something to draw their attention to baby Clark.”

H. G. Wells appeared unable to think. It would have to be up to Lois. Clark needed her.

“Would you be able to fly the time-machine…?”

Before she had finished speaking, Wells started shaking his head. “It doesn’t ‘fly’,” he explained.

“We’ll have to start a fire, then,” she said and looked around for the necessary things to make a fire. “The smoke should get the Kents’ attention and make them stop.”

Soon, she had a small fire started.

“Blow!” Lois ordered to Wells.

He did as he was told.

She put some wet leaves on the fire to make it smoke. Before long the fire started to spread.

“Great, Lane,” she admonished herself. “Burn down Smallville Forest.”

They heard someone coming, and Lois grabbed Wells’s arm, dragging him behind a group of trees.

“Hurry, Martha. We need to get this fire out before it spreads further. Take your shovel and dump dirt before the fire,” said the same young Jonathan she and Clark had met earlier that day.

Lois was thankful she and Wells were upwind of the smoke and fire, thankful that they wouldn’t be seen. Not thankful for the extra dose of smoke in her lungs. She got as close to the ground as possible and covered her nose and mouth with her jacket, trying not to cough. She didn’t want Jonathan and Martha to see them.

In what felt like a matter of minutes later, Jonathan – with a line of black soot across his cheek – came into Lois’s view. “Who do you think would…?”

“Jonathan!” Martha interrupted. “What’s that?”

“Gosh, Martha, it looks like something out of the Saturday matinee at the picture show,” said Jonathan, gazing into the sky. “If it crashed… yeah, it could have started the fire… maybe. Do you think it’s a Russian space probe or something?”

“Or something from another world?” Martha suggested. “These markings don’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before on Earth.”

“Well, I know an ‘S’ when I see one and that’s definitely an… Martha! Don’t!”

Lois winced at the description of Superman’s ‘S’ crest. She listened as Martha opened the lid of baby Clark’s space casket.

“Oh, Jonathan. It’s a baby!” Martha gasped with joy.

Lois’s heart leapt. Clark’s alive? she thought. The Kryptonite didn’t kill him?

“Martha,” Jonathan said coolly. “Don’t touch him, honey. I don’t think he’s…”

Tears crept down Lois’s face. Baby Clark was still dead.

“Oh, Jonathan,” she could hear Martha sob. “To die so young. What a waste of life. If only…”

“I know, Martha. Come on. Let’s take him home and give the fellow a proper burial,” Jonathan suggested softly.

“Yes. Let’s,” responded Martha, even more quietly.

Lois waited until the Kents had departed with baby Clark before she spoke to H. G. Wells again. “You’ve got to stop this. We’ve got to go back in time to before Clark died and stop this from happening.”

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lane,” said Wells as they started back to Rocky Cove and the time-machine.

“You should be. You’re the one who brought Tempus into the past in the first place,” she snapped at him. “We’ve got to fix this.”

Wells nodded. “Though I don’t know how.”

“By going into the past one hour, maybe two – to before Tempus killed Clark – and saving the baby Clark,” Lois growled with more than a little annoyance.

“But as you have seen Tempus wiped himself out of the future by this act, Ms. Lane.” H. G. Wells stopped and gazed at her with sadness. “If Tempus no longer exists in the future for me to bring into the past as soon as we leave 1966 – this current time stream – it will be like Clark never existed at all. You will not remember him and neither will I.”

Lois’s jaw hung open. “Are you saying that rescuing Clark is impossible?”

Wells pinched his lips together. “I don’t like to use that word, Ms. Lane. Let’s just say, it will be more difficult, much more difficult.”

“If Tempus doesn’t exist in the future to come into the past to kill baby Clark, how come Clark’s not alive?” she asked. It felt like a migraine headache decided to move into her head to stay.

“It’s hard to explain, Ms. Lane.” Wells sighed and collected his thoughts for a moment. “Because Tempus changed the timeline by traveling to this point and erasing himself from the future, he has shattered time.”

Lois’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What does that mean? Shattered time?”

“Time is like this line…” Wells picked up a stick and drew a line in the dirt. “Because Tempus changed history so drastically, at the point where Tempus, me, you, and Mr. Kent arrived in 1966 – or probably more precisely at the point in time where baby Clark died – our timeline split or shattered into two separate dimensions.”

Wells drew an off-shoot of his line in the dirt, so it looked more like a ‘Y’. “In this line…” He pointed to a spot on the original line past where the two lines intersected. “Baby Clark still grows up to become Superman. Time wasn’t changed by our visit into the past, at least, not to any large degree.” He sighed and moved the point of his stick to the new shorter, off-shoot line. “This is us. Tempus created this new dimension by killing Clark as a baby and erasing himself from the future. As soon as we get into the time-machine and return you to 1995, you will no longer remember Clark or me or this visit to 1966, because it didn’t happen. Because Tempus shattered the timeline we – even I – can only move forward in time from this point in time. By shattering time – Tempus has closed, or broken, the door for us to go further back into the past.”

“So you can only go back in time to the point when baby Clark died?” Lois tried to understand.

“Precisely.”

“So, how are we going to save Clark, precisely?” she asked.

Wells took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“But it’s not impossible?” Lois threw his word back into his face.

“No, not impossible,” he said slowly, unsurely. “If I can figure out a way to change this new dimension’s future, so that Tempus does exist, that will repair the door into the past for us to go back and rescue Clark as a baby.” Wells extended the off-shoot line so that it went past the intersection point and ran parallel to the original line.

Lois stared at the two lines in the dirt. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that without being able to remember that Clark existed in the first place?” she inquired tersely.

“It shall be difficult,” he replied.

She crossed her arms. “So, what you’re really saying is that saving Clark is not impossible, just more like improbable?”

He gave a barely noticeable nod in defeat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t accept that answer. I refuse to forget my best friend and leave him to die in the past – to cease to exist.” They arrived at Well’s time machine. Lois sat down and opened her briefcase. She pulled out a notebook and pen and started writing. She described who Clark Kent and Superman were and what had occurred that day briefly. She wrote her contact information at the Daily Planet down at the bottom of the page. Then she tore it out of the notebook and handed it to Wells. “What do you know about Tempus? His parents’ names? Where he came from? Anything?”

Wells shook his head softly.

“I refuse to believe that you of all people would bring someone from the future into the past without knowing something about them, doing some kind of background check.” Lois flipped to a clean page, before handing him the notebook and pen. “I want you to write down everything you know about Tempus, every little thing. You will then give that to me. I’ll research this man and his ancestors, any of them I can find, and I’ll use all the resources at my deposal at the Daily Planet to locate them. In the meantime, you will use your time machine and go into the future. You’ll invent something or find someone who can invent something to either fix our broken door or who will help us figure out which of Tempus’s ancestors was supposed to be rescued by Superman and now won’t. Or maybe you will figure out a way to jump to another dimension – our parallel dimension – and their future, where you can figure out this information. Together we will save Clark.”

Wells handed his sheet of information back to Lois.

She scribbled at the top. Clark Kent is real. Research Tempus to rescue Clark from dying in the past. H. G. Wells will help you. Lois slipped this note into the side of her briefcase.

As long as she held on to this hope of saving Clark from this fate, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on the fact that he was dead. Until she gave up hope completely, Clark would still be alive. She was still mad at him for never telling her his big secret and for letting some time-traveling future Neanderthal do the job for him. Duh! There was no way in hell she was going to let Clark die before she had a chance to tell him off some more.

Lois stepped onto the time machine and sat down. She slapped the bar in front of her as H. G. Wells stood there in a daze. “Okay, take me home, Wells. Let’s get started. We need to rescue Clark. He’s counting on us.”

***

Lois lifted her head off her desk and rubbed her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? At work? Her cheek felt damp. Great, I’ve drooled.

It must have been that investigation she had been working on into the wee small hours of the morning had drained her of energy. Mayson Drake’s death. She stretched, yawned, and blinked her eyes.

That had been one strange dream. She shook her head. It had seemed so clear, so vivid, so real. She had been in love with a man, a handsome man with dark hair and glasses, and muscular physique. Him, she could remember, his name, not so much. She remembered how he had taken her into his arms and floated them over the fence.

Lois thought about that one detail again. That didn’t make any sense. People don’t float. She shook her head. Anyway, her dream man had disappeared, literally. And there had been a baby. Their baby? The baby had dark hair, so it could have been. But the baby died too.

Her chest ached at the thought of her baby dying. She wished she could remember the baby’s name. She had never wanted children before, never considered it a possibility. But this baby… she pined for this baby in a way she had never longed for anything in her life before.

It was a fog. Blurry, yet, so intense. She had never felt for any real man what she had felt for… what’s-his-name in her dream. Not even Lex. She pushed Lex out of her mind; she didn’t want to think about him.

Lois remembered that they had yelled at each other – her and the man with the glasses. No, not yelled, argued. She had still loved him, but she had been mad. He had done something to make her mad – lied to her, most likely. That was what most men she met did, with the exception of Lex. Lex had always been honest with her, which was why Lois Lane hardly ever dated anymore. Which was why Mayson’s death had affected her so strongly. She would miss her one female friend, her best friend. She sighed.

If only she could meet a man who could sweep her off her feet like her dream man. Literally. Oh, to have a man like that in her life. She would turn to pudding in his arms. She scoffed at her foolishness. Men like that just didn’t exist, at least not in this universe. Dan Scardino was interested in her, but she wasn’t sure about him. He seemed more Mayson’s type. Lois just didn’t feel for him what she had felt for the man in her dream.

“Lois!” Jimmy ran up to her desk. “There you are. Eight minutes to spare. Perry’s birthday. Remember?”

She winced. She had forgotten. Again.

Jimmy pulled out a wrapped birthday gift from behind his back and handed it to her. “Love me?”

Lois rolled her eyes. “What did I get him?” she asked and then answered her own question, “Checked suspenders?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

She wondered how she knew too.

Didn’t you get him checked suspenders last year? a man’s seductive, somewhat hesitant, voice asked inside her head.

“Didn’t I get him checked suspenders last year?” she asked her partner.

“Gift horse, mouth,” Jimmy mumbled, scratching a nasty rash on his arm and then raising his voice. “Well, he liked them, didn’t he?” He turned and indicated their boss, standing across the bullpen and yelling at someone. It looked like Cat Grant. Oooh. That would make her day. Perry White was wearing said checked suspenders.

Lois felt like rolling her eyes again. Terrific.

“Do you have a card?” Jimmy asked.

“Card? Card?” Lois started patting down her pockets. She had a card, didn’t she? That seemed familiar. She stuck her hand into the side pocket of her briefcase and pulled out said card.

“Who has always got your back, Lois?” Jimmy winked at her as he scratched his arm again.

“You’re the best, Jimbo! Thanks.” She smiled appreciatively and then took a closer look at the red mark on his arm. “Wow, that must be some itch.”

He shrugged and tugged down his sleeve. “Oh, this. I get it every year around this time since I was a kid.” Jimmy was still a kid, a junior underling, but he was her junior peon, her personal photographer. No other staff writer had their own personal assistant or photographer, and she had both in one man. Perry loved her and, better yet, he knew Lois’s worth. Her boss knew who consistently brought in his front-page headlines.

“It looks painful. Isn’t there some kind of cream you can put on it?” she asked him.

“I’ve tried everything. My doc says not to worry about it though. It’ll go away.” Jimmy nodded and returned to his desk.

Lois noticed another piece of notebook paper that had fallen out of her briefcase pocket when she had retrieved the card.

She picked it up and looked at it. Scribbled across the top of the paper she had written: “Clark Kent is real. Research Tempus to rescue Clark from dying in the past. H. G. Wells will help you.”

Lois didn’t remember writing the note. She had no idea who Clark Kent was nor who, or what, Tempus was. H. G. Wells? The author? The very dead author? Please! What kind of crap was this, Lane? Notes for a novel?

Did she come up with this crazy story idea while out drinking the night before? No, she had been working on that Resurrection drug story with Scardino. She had turned it in this morning before passing out on her desk. Anyway, she knew better than to drink so much that she couldn’t remember. It hadn’t done any good for her mother, so how could it do her life any good?

The rest of the note was in someone else’s handwriting and was a list of some sort. She could hardly read the handwriting at all. “Hmmm. That’s strange.” She shrugged and tossed the paper haphazardly onto her desk. She grabbed the gift and yelled, “Happy Birthday, Chief!” as she crossed the newsroom towards her boss.

***

Chapter Two

Lois floated up and over the city in the arms of this handsome stranger, a handsome stranger who ate a bomb, saving the space shuttle Prometheus. Then he lifted her and the colonists up and took the whole spaceship to the space station. He flew. He was strong. He was modest. That bomb didn’t faze him.

She borrowed a space suit from the station and in his arms he flew her back to Earth. He hadn’t worn anything – other than his blue suit, his uniform. A bright blue skin-tight suit with cherry red shorts, which brought her attention to his muscular body, and the “S” crest on his chest. Too bad that big red cape covered his derrière.

She sighed, wishing she could cuddle up to him and kiss him. Oh, but he was above such petty, human drivel – he was too important, too perfect to waste time on romantic notions like that. He was amazing. He was bigger, better, and braver than any man she had ever met. He was her own personal superhero. He embodied the word ‘super’. Yes, that must be his name: Superman.

“I’ll be around,” he called to her.

He better be! He was hers!

Those men had burst into the Daily Planet and put her – Lois Lane, defender of the people, Constitutionally-protected fourth estate – through the wringer! Hooked her to a lie detector. Please! Like she knew anything about the man to begin with. Superman. An alien? Well, if something looks like a duck, walks like a duck, talks like a duck, the chances are pretty good it is a duck. And Superman looked like no green-skinned alien, but – then, again – no man on Earth could be so perfect.

Especially not what’s-his-name, her clumsy, mud-brown eyed, junk-food eating, example of a Neanderthal “partner” – the way he had rushed into the Messenger warehouse to ‘save her’. Give her a break! She rolled her eyes. How could Perry assign her – Lois Lane, three-time Kerth award winner – a partner!?!

Lois had never believed in aliens. That was ridiculous. Small, silver-eyed, telepathic green fellows. Please! She lived in reality, not in fantasy-land. But Superman, she moaned. He could make her believe in anything. Anyway, he was Super-MAN, not SuperAlien.

She and Mr. Green Jeans were up in an airplane. Those psycho-military-rogue-government types were using them for bait. They wanted to kill Superman! Like Superman would hone in on her? Please! She could never be so lucky. They were going to throw her from the plane? She needed to distract them. Hack-from-Nowheresville was crushing on her. She could use that to her advantage.

“I want to kiss Clark good-bye,” Lois told them. She took her “partner’s” head in her hands and pressed an impressive kiss onto his mouth. He fell for the kiss, hook, line, and sinker. She could say one thing about Smallville, he sure could kiss. “Take the one on the right,” she whispered into his ear after the kiss.

Lois was falling, falling, falling. “Superman! Superman! Superman! Superman!” Oh, this was ridiculous. She was going to be a splotch on the ground. Henderson wouldn’t find one bone intact with which to identity her. “Superman! Superman! Superman! Help!”

Suddenly, he was there, and she was there in his arms. He heard her. He rescued her. He was real. It wasn’t a one-time meeting. He was hers! She was definitely his.

“You do read minds,” she murmured, breathless just being in his arms. Okay, and also breathless from having been pushed out of an airplane at twenty-thousand feet without a parachute and screaming her lungs out the last thirty seconds, but she would never admit that to anyone.

“Not really. But I do have pretty good hearing,” Superman replied with a smile.

Was he teasing her? Did he have a sense of humor? Did he find her suggestion ludicrous? Thank God he couldn’t read her mind. The things she had been thinking about him since he had first taken her into his arms… Oh, to actually do some of those things with him. She wondered if he was a man. Did he have all the parts of a man? If so, would he float if they made love? Would he move so fast…? Stop, thinking about these things, Lois! You’re a grown woman, for Pete’s sake. You’re Lois Lane, not Cat Grant. You’ll never make love with Superman.

Superman set her down on the roof of the Daily Planet. There was a missile headed straight for them. Bureau 39, Jason Trask, shot a missile at Superman! How dare he?! Superman rushed up to intercept it. The bomb exploded, and when the smoke cleared, Superman was gone. Missing. Disappeared. Forever.

“No!” Lois screamed, bolting straight up in bed. She was breathing so hard, she was almost panting, gulping for air. It had just been a dream, a fantasy, a nightmare. Her skin still tingled from where Superman had held her. He was unlike any man she had ever encountered. “Huh.”

She had never thought of herself as the school-girl fantasy type. Romantic, definitely. But superhero fantasy? Crazy, Lane. Just plain crazy. She didn’t need a man to rescue her.

Lois fluffed her pillow, lay her head back down, and closed her eyes.

***

Perry came out of his office and even though Lois was waiting on hold, she flagged him down. “Hey, Chief, you ever hear of a covert government agency called ‘Bureau 39’?” she asked him.

With curiosity, he stepped closer to her desk. “You got something on this ‘Bureau whatsit’?”

“Thirty-nine.” Lois shook her head. “I heard about it somewhere. Just wondered if it really existed.”

“What does it deal with?” he asked her.

She looked down and shifted her pencil around on her desk. “Aliens,” she mumbled.

Her boss’s eyes bugged, then he spotted someone coming down the ramp towards Lois’s desk. “Jimmy!” Perry yelled and the photographer jumped. “My office. Pronto!”

Lois was thankful for the interruption. She couldn’t believe that she told Perry about something from her dream. What was wrong with her?

Jimmy asked her with his eyes if she knew what was up. She shrugged her reply.

She watched the office, but the door was shut and she couldn’t hear her boss shouting. Usually Perry only shut his door when he screamed at his staff.

A package arrived. Curious and tired of bad music, she hung up her phone. She cut through the tape at the bottom of the box and lifted off the lid. Inside was the most hideous mobile/statue thingy with pictures of a bunch of floating eyes and an upside-down mouth. Lois raised a brow. What the hell? She picked up the attached card.

Anyone can send flowers, Dan.

She pressed her lips together. Well, that had been a waste of money. Hopefully, he hadn’t paid much for it.

Lois was about to drop it in the trash when said gift-giver appeared next to her desk.

“Hi. I see you got it.”

She smiled politely at Dan and placed the ‘thing’ on her shelf instead. She would get rid of it once he was gone. “Oh… uh, yeah… Thanks. You shouldn’t have.” She hoped he never did again.

“I thought this would be something you could really appreciate,” he replied.

How? She wondered and moved on. “Well… So…”

“So, if you remember, a while back we talked about us maybe going out,” Dan said with ample amounts of Scardino charm.

Lois remembered him wanting to go out with her and her not being sure. “Dan, I’m flattered, I really am. It’s just… I’ve been seeing Clark…”

“Who?” Dan exclaimed.

“Huh?” Lois had no idea why she had said that. Clark? Who was that? Then she remembered. He was the man from her dreams. No, not the man of her dreams. That would be Superman. Clark was that hick reporter from Smallville of all places. The one she had kissed on the plane. Why would she ever consider dating him? True, he had been one hell of a kisser, but he was a figment of her imagination. Why would she tell Scardino she was dating him?

Her expression must have been muddled because Dan appeared concerned. “You okay, Lois?”

“Yeah, fine.” She shook her head and tried to concentrate on Dan. “Let me think about it.”

“Okay,” he replied hesitantly.

Great. The one decent guy to ask her out since Lex… Actually, Dan was the only guy who had asked her out since Lex had… It seemed like men were intimidated to follow in the footsteps of the third richest man in the world… since Lex had died in her arms.

Lois didn’t want to think about that, about Lex dying, about what might have been, about his last words being that he loved her.

And here she was already scaring Dan off.

Jimmy and Perry emerged from the Chief’s office. Thank God! A distraction. Then she felt a pang of remorse, because her photographer looked as if someone had run over his dog.

“Lois,” her boss said and then noticed Dan. “Agent Scardino.” Then Perry dismissed the DEA Agent out of hand.

“Jimmy, what’s the matter?” Lois asked. Her friend did seem a bit paler than normal.

“My doctor’s been murdered,” Jimmy told her.

“Alan Golden. They found his body this morning,” explained Perry.

“He just called me yesterday. Left me a message on my machine. I was gonna call him back today…” Jimmy’s voice faded.

“Lois,” Perry hinted with just her name.

“I’ll look into it,” Lois reassured him, grabbing her bag.

“Chief, I want to go with her,” Jimmy insisted.

“Now, Jimmy…” Perry resisted.

“Please, Chief, I’ve known Dr. Golden my whole life.”

His boss patted Jimmy on the shoulder. “All right, son. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry to hear about your friend,” Scardino said to Jimmy before turning back to Lois. “They say that good things come to those who wait. I’ve got time.”

She smiled at him. Good, she hadn’t scared him off completely. What was the matter with her? Creating fake boyfriends? “Come on, Jimmy.”

***

The Chief stood at Lois’s desk with Jimmy, Lois, and Sarah – the latter being another life-long patient of Dr. Golden.

Lois and Jimmy had stopped Sarah from being kidnapped when they went to interview her. Sarah was twenty-two, just like Jimmy, born at Fort Truman, just like Jimmy, and had a rash on her arm that reoccurred every year, just like Jimmy. Something was certainly going on. The other patient, G.E. Mallow, who Dr. Golden had been trying to reach, had disappeared, according to Detective Wolfe.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home, either of you, until we know what’s going on,” Perry was saying. “Lois, why doesn’t Sarah stay with you until the police are able to catch that blond guy Jimmy chased off?”

Lois felt uncomfortable. There was nothing worse than invasion of her privacy, especially by a psych major. She wanted to sneer at the suggestion, but everyone’s eyes were on her. “Can’t MPD find her a safe house?” she suggested, hating that it sounded like a whine.

“And lose the story, never. Jimmy, you’re staying with Alice and me.” This was not an invitation but an order.

“Thanks, Chief.” There really wasn’t any other response acceptable.

They all looked at Lois again. Fine! “Sarah, you can stay with me.”

“Thanks,” Sarah murmured gratefully.

“As long as you don’t analyze me,” Lois continued through pressed lips.

Sarah raised a brow and leaned forward towards Lois. “Just how long have you had this fear of self-discovery, Lois?”

Lois stared at the young woman. She couldn’t be serious. Oh, God! She is serious. The reporter glanced at her boss with a loss for words.

Perry and Jimmy exchanged a look. Then Lois watched as the Chief faded away with a gesture that read, “I’m not touching that one”.

Thanks, Perry.

***

“You know, he didn’t seem that special to me. Except for the flying and the uniform, he could be any ordinary guy,” said Clark from behind her as she was trying to get the sketch artist to get Superman’s look just right.

“Ordinary? Give me a break,” Lois retorted before leaning in to examine the drawing closer. “What we’ve got here is an example of human evolution, before and after. Clark is the before. Superman is the after.” She glanced over her shoulder at Clark and his crooked glasses, his tie over his shoulder, his jacket slipping off his shoulder as he munched on a cake donut, with his hair a mess. “Make that the way, way after.”

Perry was pacing around the packed conference room of the Daily Planet. “Last night our publisher called me into his office and asked me one question. The question was: ‘How come the Daily Planet hadn’t nailed down the Superman story since it literally dropped in our laps?’ Now, I took this as a personal criticism and I assured him that each, and every one, of my staff would chip in. Would not rest until Superman was ours. Now, is that clear?”

“No!” Lois stammered. “You can’t be serious. I’m the one Superman flew with. I wrote the original piece. I found him.”

“Actually, he found you…” Clark corrected her.

“Thank. You. Kent,” she replied tersely. “Perry, this isn’t fair. I should have the exclusive on the follow-up. Those are the rules.”

“The rules are off,” Perry rebutted her. “This is too big.”

“But he’s mine!” Lois demanded, almost whining as she stood up. Then she realized everyone in the office was looking at her and had interpreted her words as she had said them, not as she had meant them to mean. “Mine… as in my story. Story, mine.”

She could hear Clark chuckling behind her. Wonderful. Just what she needed. Smallville thinking he was better than she was, that she was a joke as far as Superman was concerned.

“From now on Superman is fair game. Every reporter for himself…” Perry said, and then turned to Lois. “Or herself.”

Lois turned around and sat down on the table. “I’ll find him,” she said more to herself than to Clark, who was sitting next to her.

“How? He could be anywhere. Mars. The north pole.”

“I’ll find him,” Lois assured her colleague.

“What if he doesn’t want to be found?” Clark asked her.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t he want to be found?” Just like some hack reporter to come up with a crazy idea like that.

“What if all this frenzy isn’t what this guy expected? Maybe he’s gun-shy,” Clark suggested.

“That’s ridiculous. He has no reason to hide. Especially from me,” Lois responded. Superman couldn’t possibly think that she would ever hurt him? Expose him? Would he? Not her? She would never do that to him. Not even – and she couldn’t believe these words even passed through her mind – not even for a Pulitzer.

Cat Grant walked up from where she had obviously been eavesdropping on their conversation. Just like a gossip columnist. “Mmmm-huh. Wait a minute. I get it. You and Superman joined the ol’ Zero Gravity Club up on the space station, didn’t you?” Cat laughed as if even the thought of this was preposterous.

“Excuse me?” Lois told her through pressed lips.

“Oooh. It’s okay. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe,” reassured Cat. “No one would believe it anyway.”

Lois turned away from the skank and saw that Clark was laughing at her. She couldn’t believe it. Was that what Clark thought of her?

Lois opened her eyes.

Another dream. Another Clark dream. Another Clark dream about Superman. What was it about this man her subconscious could not let go of?

Lois fluffed her pillow and shifted her position.

Sometimes she dreamed of Superman. Sometimes she dreamed of this fictitious partner Clark. Sometimes she dreamed of them in the same dream, but never at the same time.

Some horrible dreams were just regular dreams with neither man.

It was strange that she never dreamed of Dan Scardino. Of course, with all these men in her dreams, she should probably keep the real ones real.

Lois closed her eyes. Maybe this time she would tune in to Superman and just Superman. There was nothing like being humiliated in one’s dreams, well, better than in reality. Superman would never humiliate her. She closed her eyes again and pictured that sexy man in blue, hoping her subconscious would take a hint.

Lois heard that there was a bomb threat. She jumped into a Metro cab and rushed down to the scene. She had just gotten there, pushed through the crowds and had approached the old City of Metropolis Post Office when the bomb exploded. She was knocked to the ground.

No! Had Superman just gone in there? She thought he had. Surely a man who could swallow a bomb could survive. Couldn’t he? But a building falling on him? Her head hurt, but as usual, she pushed past the pain and focused on the story.

Where was Superman?

As the smoke cleared, Superman stepped out the door. He seemed a little fazed, more surprised than anything, but certainly uninjured. Only his uniform – his cape slightly tattered around the hem and covered with dust – showed any evidence that he had been in the building when it had exploded.

“You’re hurt,” he said to her, touching her forehead with a bandage. He had just been blown up in a building, and he only thought of her safety. She would never find anyone more super than that.

There was Clark, talking to the MPD bomb squad. When had Clark arrived? Where did Superman disappear off to? No, wait, it had been Clark who had been concerned about her head. Why… how had she confused the two men?

Someone had blown up Superman on purpose?

“That poor man,” she murmured.

“What man?” replied the ever-clueless farm boy.

“Superman. He comes here to help us… Can you imagine how he must he feel?”

“I think so,” said Clark.

Actually, that was a strange thing for Clark to say. Had he been attacked while trying to help someone? Did he really know what it was like to walk Superman’s boots or was he just conjecturing – supposing – making conversation?

Had Lois been ‘attacking’ Clark since he arrived at the Daily Planet? Was that what he had meant? He had only been trying to help Lois, and she had done nothing but put him down, insult him, and try to hurt him – not physically, of course, but emotionally, mentally, or self-confidently. Was that even a word? Self-confidently? She shrugged.

Why had she been doing that to Clark? Maybe she should stop? She considered that.

If Clark couldn’t handle her ribbing, he might as well find out sooner rather than later that he wasn’t ready for the big leagues. She would stop when he gave up or when he proved to her that he belonged. So far, he had done neither.

***

“You know I can tell a lot about you from the way you organize your kitchen,” Sarah called from where she was preparing a bowl of cereal in Lois’s kitchen. “I’m taking this course in applied psychology…”

Lois, her lips pressed together as she held on to the two big curlers in her hair, rushed into her kitchen to refill her coffee mug. “Sarah, I warned you not to analyze me.”

“Oh, right,” replied Sarah uncomfortably as Lois left the room again. “That’s exactly what I would have said about you from the way you organize your kitchen,” Lois’s houseguest called after her.

The reporter stopped long enough to unroll her curlers and shoot a nasty look at the young woman. The doorbell rang, and Sarah volunteered to answer it. Lois just shook her head and continued back into her bedroom.

“Hi, is Lois home?” Lois heard a familiar male voice ask Sarah.

“Maybe. Can I tell her who’s here?” responded Sarah.

“Yeah, I’m a friend,” said Dan.

Crap! She needed to get out there and intervene but only half of her hair was styled and she didn’t yet have her skirt on. Lois hurried to finish getting dressed as she continued to listen in on Sarah and Dan’s conversation.

“A friend? A boyfriend? A friend friend. Or just a friend?” Sarah grilled him.

No, no, no! Sarah wasn’t allowed to chase away the only man who had asked her on a date in the past year. Lois hopped out of her room, putting on her shoes.

“Gee, if I had known that there was going to be a test, I would have studied,” Dan gave back to her houseguest as much as she was giving to him.

Sarah laughed.

“Who are you?” Dan asked as Lois rushed to the door.

Lois nudged Sarah away, explaining, “She’s a friend.”

“Just a friend,” Sarah clarified before Lois could send her away with a ‘leave us alone’ look.

“What are you doing here?” Lois asked Dan.

Dan walked past Lois and into her apartment without invitation, sitting down on her sofa. “You’re working on that murder of that Dr. Golden, right?”

“Ah… well…” Lois stammered at his rudeness, suddenly wary about having wanted him to drop by unannounced, and exchanged a perplexed expression with Sarah, who appeared concerned. Was Dan there in an official capacity?

“Well, I’ve been assigned to investigate a shipment of a drug called Tysian from Metropolis General,” continued Dan.

“Yeah… So?” Lois inquired, crossing her arms. Good for him. Did this mean he’s staying a while longer in Metropolis? Or what? Why is he telling me this? What did it have to do with the price of eggs? Or, more importantly, her story?

“So, I thought you might be interested to know that Tysian is a highly regulated drug that was ordered by Dr. Golden. Only – it turns out – that his signature was forged on the order form,” Dan finished.

A-ha! Their investigations were crossing. Again.

“Why is Tysian so heavily regulated?” she asked.

“Well, nothing good,” Dan explained. “Too much of the stuff can lead to an overload in the brain synapses, causing death.”

Yep, not good. Why would Jimmy and Sarah’s doctor, or someone impersonating their doctor, order Tysian? She wondered what the standard use for the stuff was and why was Dan Scardino telling her about it. Had Dan come to her apartment wanting for them to work together again? Like they had with Resurrection? Lois thought that was a big no-no for government agents? Of course, Dan was known for breaking rules. Or was he just here to ask her on a date? And this Tysian lead was just a way to soften her up? Before Lois could ask him any of these questions, her phone rang. She shut the door and hurried to answer it.

It was Jimmy, calling from the office.

“Jimmy! What’s up?” she asked him.

“I’ve dug up some information on Mallow,” Jimmy replied.

“So what are you doing here?” Sarah asked Dan. “Really?”

At her intense expression, Dan stood up. “I was just giving Lois some information about her case.”

Dan came over to Lois on the phone. She asked Jimmy to hold and looked at Dan expectantly.

They stood there for a moment just looking at each other. Did Lois really want him to ask her out? Did she really want to accept? What would be the worst that could happen? No, don’t think that! What could be the best that could happen? No, don’t think that either. She should never raise her expectations.

“You know what you two are doing is classic,” interrupted Sarah between mouthfuls of cereal, indicating the two of them with her spoon. “You’re both thinking the exact same thoughts, but you’re hoping that the other person is going to talk first.”

Lois shot her houseguest a glare.

“Um… Lois, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you…” Dan took another glance at Sarah.

“I… uh… left something in the bathroom,” Sarah said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder as she finally realized her presence was hurting more than helping. “Excuse me.”

With a sigh, Dan glanced at the phone on Lois’s shoulder. “I’ll catch you later,” he told Lois.

She felt sad at his departure; it had been nice to have a man look at her that way again, like her input was important. That was just how Clark looked at her. She shook this thought out of her head.

“So, what did you find out about Mallow?” Lois asked Jimmy on the phone, with a wave at Dan as the DEA Agent shut the door.

***

As Lois drove to meet Perry’s old navy buddy, Sailin’ Whalen, her mind drifted back to her dreams from that morning.

Lois sat at her desk when her sister waltzed in wearing her – Lois’s – grey suit.

Lucy started out by giving Lois a hard time. “Who called me last night, in tears, because she had stolen a story from Clark Kent?”

“I did not steal Kent’s story,” Lois defended herself.

“You stole it,” repeated her sister. Lois could never pull a fast one on Lucy.

“I competed for it. And I won!” Lois retorted, putting her own spin on the facts.

Lucy didn’t buy it.

“I stole it!” Lois confessed, mortified by her behavior. “I have never stolen a story before in my life. How could I do that? It’s him! It’s Superman!” Yes, she would let the blame fall where it belonged. It wasn’t her fault. “I mean, ever since he held me in his arms… there’s something between us, Lucy. I know it. There’s this connection.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Lucy told her.

“I am ashamed of myself. I’m ashamed of myself.”

“And you’ll never do it again?” Lucy coaxed her.

“I won’t. Never again,” Lois promised.

“And you’ll apologize to Clark Kent?”

“Not in this millennium,” Lois guaranteed her.

What was it about that Clark fellow that got under her skin? Why would she break all her steadfast rules to steal his story, admit it to her sister, but not to the man himself? She was a cut-throat journalist, but she had never been that cut-throat. Had she?

Even her dream self knew she was too obsessed with Superman. Lois scoffed at this. Two versions of herself, and both were enthralled with a hot man in blue tights and a cape – she sighed – a man who could literally sweep her off her feet. This was bad. Really. Really. Bad.

***

Chapter Three

After Lois’s meeting with Sailin’ Whalen, she returned to the Daily Planet where she bumped into Jimmy and Sarah in the lobby, returning from a quick lunch. Lois had just finished explaining to them what the admiral had heard about Dr. Golden’s ‘mind control’ studies as they arrived back to the bullpen.

“Jimmy! Where’s that photo sheet you promised me a half hour ago?” Perry barked from behind them, causing the young photographer to jump.

“I’m on it, Chief!” Jimmy replied and then continued under his breath. “Who needs drugs to control people, when you can use fear?”

Sarah chuckled and Jimmy jogged off.

“Lois, you got three calls while you were out. All of them from someone named Scardino,” Joe, another researcher, said, handing over the messages.

“Three calls?” Sarah asked, taking the messages out of Lois’s hand. “Can we say a little persistent?”

“Maybe it’s something important,” Lois told her between pressed lips.

“Oh, let’s see…” Sarah said, flipping through the messages. “What about dinner tonight? Dinner tomorrow? Lunch?”

Lois reached out for her messages, and Sarah handed them to her.

“That’s really important.” Sarah raised a brow. “So, what’s going on between you and Dan?”

“Nothing that’s any of your business,” Lois retorted.

Sarah set down her books, pulled up a chair to Lois’s desk, and sat down, waiting expectantly for Lois to explain. Lois looked at Sarah. Her gut instinct was to give the young woman the brush-off, but then Lois decided she needed to discuss her feelings with someone. At times, Sarah’s pushiness reminded Lois of her sister Lucy. Lois sat down and leaned towards Sarah, lowering her voice.

“We met a couple of weeks ago. Our paths crossed on an investigation into the death of a friend of mine, Mayson Drake, an Assistant D.A. who…” Lois swallowed. It was still difficult speaking of Mayson. “Who I was supposed to meet for a deposition. I had been running late. Anyway, I saw her car explode. She had been inside.”

Sarah patted her hand. “I’m so sorry. That must have been difficult for you.”

“It was. It still is. Mayson was my best friend in Metropolis, my only real friend it seemed. After I had started dating Lex Luthor…” Her eyes clouded. Why had she brought up Lex Luthor?

“You dated Lex Luthor?” Sarah gasped. It seemed Lex’s name still had weight in this town a year after his death.

“Lex and I had been on a date, when we got delayed here… in the office… by terrorists. They shot him. He died in my arms.” A tear ran down Lois’s cheek, and she wiped it away. “Just after he told me he loved me.”

“Did you love him?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” Lois said automatically, but that wasn’t really the truth. “No.” That answer didn’t seem right either though. “I don’t know. No, not really, but our relationship was still new. It could have developed into love, I guess. I don’t know. He was Metropolis’s largest philanthropist. He was powerful and well-connected. Who knows what it might have been or if there would have been more?” Lois shrugged. She liked talking about Lex less than Mayson.

Sarah stared at her for a moment. “If he had been broke and just a regular guy with no connections, what would you have thought of him?”

Lois’s eyes widened. How dare Sarah ask her that? Did she assume that Lois had just dated Lex for his money and for the doors he could open for her? Had she? What had Lois known about the man himself? Really? Was she that shallow?

Sarah knocked the question out of the air with a flick of her wrist. “That doesn’t have anything to do with Dan, or… does it?”

“No, of course not. Well, except that Dan is the first man who has asked me out since Lex died,” Lois told her.

“Are you ready to be back out there?” Sarah inquired. “Is that why you’re hesitating?”

Was she? Lois thought about that. Did her reluctance to say ‘yes’ to Dan have anything to do with Lex? “No. I don’t think so.”

“What about Mayson? Is it that being with Dan reminds you of the death of your friend?” Sarah pushed buttons that Lois didn’t know had been installed.

She smiled at the young woman. “You’d make a great reporter.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather stick with literal minefields in a person’s psyche than figurative ones on the streets of Metropolis,” Sarah told her with a wink. “Now, what’s with the avoidance, Lois?”

“I don’t know…” Lois looked down, shaking her head. She wanted to say ‘yes’ to Dan’s invitations to dinner, but in her heart… her heart yearned for Superman. Her eyes bugged. Superman? She glanced up at Sarah who was still examining her. “I’ve been having some dreams about this other man and, well, Dan just pales in comparison.”

“Dreams?” Sarah raised a brow with concerned interest. “Tell me about this dream man.”

Lois gazed upwards before closing her eyes and sighing. “He’s perfect. He’s a…”

“Excuse me, Ms. Lane,” Joe said, coming up to her desk and handing her a fax. “This just came through.”

The reporter nodded her thanks as she took the paper. She glanced at Sarah. “Back to work.”

Sarah pointed to her, standing up. “We’re going to finish this later, Lois.” Then she winked again. “At our next session.”

Lois rolled her eyes, but she had to admit she did feel better since talking to the psych major. She couldn’t believe that she was going to tell the girl about Superman. No, she would never tell anyone about him.

She looked down at the fax. It was about Katherine Wilder, the daughter of Alan Golden’s old army partner at Fort Truman. She went to Perry’s office, knocking on the open door. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“Ah… No. No, no, no,” replied the Chief, glancing up from the photo sheet that Jimmy had just handed him.

“The Medical Association came through on Dr. Katherine Wilder,” she told the two men. She turned the fax so that they both could see the woman’s picture at the top. “Look familiar? We saw her when we were dodging the claws of Nurse Berke.” Lois took another glance down at the paper, reading. “She’s on the staff at Metropolis General.”

“Hhhmm. That’s where Dr. Golden worked,” said Perry.

“Coincidence?” asked Lois, doubting it. There were rarely real coincidences in her investigations.

Suddenly, gunfire burst through the windows of Perry White’s office; Lois, Perry, and Jimmy dropped to the floor. Perry dove under his desk. Lois curled up into a ball. Jimmy grabbed his camera and slithered out of the door on his stomach.

Several minutes passed as the gunfire continued. Lois heard the approach of police sirens and crawled to the far side of Perry’s desk away from the rain of bullets. When the barrage finally stopped, she did a crouching duck-walk over to the windows. What was going on?

She heard someone shout, “He’s collapsed!”

Hesitantly, Lois peered over the window sill to see if it was over. She saw Jimmy taking photos of a young man with a gun. The shooter was lying still on the street.

A policeman cautiously approached the gunman and felt his throat. “He’s dead!” he called to his partner with a surprised tone to his voice.

“But we didn’t even have a chance to open fire,” his partner answered.

The first officer shrugged. “He doesn’t have a bullet wound.”

Jimmy glanced up at Lois, waved to get her attention. When he was sure he had it, he pointed at the gunman and then he pointed at his own arm.

A chill crept down her spine.

Perry, standing next to her, spoke the words stuck in her throat, “The gunman’s got a rash like Jimmy and Sarah. Could this be the missing G.E. Mallow? And had he been brainwashed?”

Lois glanced down at the fax still in her hand. It looked like she would be having a conversation with Dr. Wilder.

***

Lois sat alone in her car as she thought about her interview with Katherine Wilder. Had the woman been threatening her when she told Lois that bad habits could be hazardous to her health? It seemed like it. Plus, the good doctor seemed to be lying about her relationship with the bondsman who posted the bail on the blond man Detective Wolfe had picked up for trying to kidnap Sarah.

Lois tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel of her Jeep Cherokee. It was nights like this when she thought it might be nice to have a partner, or at least someone to talk with, instead of sitting there by herself. She had Jimmy, as much as he was, but Lois had suggested that he spend the night in, especially since someone was out to turn him into a brainwashed assassin.

Plus, Jimmy seemed genuinely interested in Sarah. Good for him. He deserved someone. She sighed. So did she.

As she waited to follow Dr. Wilder to wherever she might go that night, Lois thought more of Clark, the partner in her dreams.

“So, where do we start?” Clark asked Lois as he gathered up his stuff from the conference room table.

Lois raised a brow. We? The rookie would need her help on a story as big as Superman, but after laughing at her, he certainly wasn’t going to get it. “We?” she chuckled. “There is no we.”

Then Clark said the most ridiculous thing Lois had ever heard. “How do you know I don’t have the inside track on finding Superman?” Please. As if!

But then not a couple of hours later, Lois overheard Clark on the telephone. “Really? He’s there now?… Great!… Give me the address again… 344 Clinton. Tell him I’ll be right over. Don’t let him leave.”

Lois wasn’t going to let him get the edge on her story. She burst through the doors of 344 Clinton Street. There stood Clark, talking to some portly – and that was being kind – fellow in a place that looked like it hadn’t seen a tenant in years. A place abandoned mid-remodeling it appeared.

“Lois!” Clark gasped in shock.

“Where is he?” she demanded to her co-worker.

“Who?” he asked her in confusion.

Right, Smallville. Who else?

“Where am I?” She changed her question as the realization that Clark hadn’t been coming to meet Superman dawned on her.

“My new apartment,” Clark retorted to her humiliation.

Lois pressed her lips together. Maybe she had been right about partners all along: best to keep to herself, instead of trying to rely on others.

Of course, according to her dreams, she had been the one trying to steal Clark’s story. It was a line she had never crossed. That was a line she would never cross. But then again, she had never come up against a story – or a man – like Superman.

Lois limped into the bullpen, a large black garbage bag and the heel of one of her shoes in her hands. Mud was smeared across what was left of her shoes, her calves, her skirt, her jacket, her neck and her forehead. She had bug bites covering her arms, legs, and chest. She looked like she had been lost for hours at the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility, because she had been lost for hours at the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility.

She had been sent on a wild goose chase. And what had she gotten out of it? A Godzilla doll dressed up in red shorts with a gold “S” painted on its chest. And what had Kent gotten with her out of the way? A Superman story. The Superman story. Her Superman story. The story that he was in Metropolis to stay.

She got up from her desk and walked over to Clark’s. Well, more like limped with her missing high heel. Ever the gentleman, he stood up as she approached.

“You set me up?” she grilled him, knowing the truth, but needing to hear him admit it.

“Yes, I did,” he confessed. Well, this was more than he had done when she had thrown the map in his face when she had limped in that morning.

“Congratulations, Clark. You win,” she said, offering her hand to him. He had earned her respect by not fearing her and by not letting her steamroll right over him. She had promised herself to treat him as an equal once he had done that, though she had never thought he would. He sure had earned his stripes.

Clark reluctantly shook her hand. He looked like he felt bad for what had happened to her. Good! He should feel bad. Maybe he would be sure never to treat her that way again.

“I didn’t win,” he told her.

“You got the story, and you took me down a peg in the process. I guess I deserve that. You worked hard, and you earned your success.” These words were hard for her to say, but after the way she had treated him, stealing his story, she knew she owed him the truth. And maybe this whole episode meant he would stop acting so moony-eyed around her. They were adults, and the Daily Planet wasn’t high school.

“Thank you, Lois. That means a lot to me,” he said.

“Well, I hope so,” she replied smugly. “Cherish this moment because, Clark, you’ll never experience this again.”

“Hey, Lois,” Clark called out to her while she walked back to her desk. “What have we got going on tomorrow?”

“Now, there you are using that word again, Clark. There is you. There is I. There is no we,” she clarified for him. He was still determined to be her “partner”. When would he learn she didn’t need a partner?

“Not yet,” he challenged.

“Not ever,” she corrected.

“We’ll see,” he continued on. God, would this man ever let her have the last word?

“How long can you hold your breath?” she asked him as she left for the lockers. It better be a long time, Kent, because she was NEVER becoming his partner.

Lois chuckled and then sighed. She wondered what it would be like if Clark was sitting next to her right now. She glanced over at the passenger seat of her car.

Strangely enough, she could picture Clark there, looking at her like she was his entire world. She could picture him in her life, even as that partner she had vowed she never needed. For some reason, Clark seemed like the type of guy for which she would make an exception. But with her luck, just as they started to talk about something serious or personal, like how she was dealing with Mayson’s death, he would probably make some lame excuse and bolt… even in the middle of a stakeout. Typical!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the passenger side door. “Open up! Police!” called a male voice, jarring Lois from her thoughts. Then she saw Dan’s face beaming through the window at her.

“Scardino, what are you doing?” she asked him as he climbed into her car, carrying a wicker basket. She couldn’t help the smile that naturally came to her lips from this surprise, and she wasn’t someone who liked surprises. Ever.

“I got dinner,” he said. “Your office told me you were on a stakeout and I thought… hmm… you might get hungry.” He pulled out a bottle of wine and proceeded to open it. “I got some great Thai food.”

“How did you know that I liked Thai food?” she inquired.

“Lois,” he said, laying on that Scardino charm again. “I am an undercover cop.”

So, he had been doing his homework. Impressive. “What else do you know about me?”

Dan grinned and handed her a glass of Chardonnay, bouncing his eyebrows and avoiding the question. “Shall we toast?”

“To what?”

“How about: to the future?” Dan replied.

Lois’s heart began to pound in her chest. “Whose?”

“How about ours?”

“You never stop, do you?” She shook her head. No matter what she said or did, he kept coming back for more, at a hundred miles per hour. She felt like hitting him with a Stop sign.

He chuckled and then his expression turned serious. “Lois… when you live the kind of life I do, you learn really fast that time is a precious commodity, and every minute that goes by that we’re not together seems like a terrible waste.”

For the first time in a long, long time, Lois actually found herself speechless.

Dan raised his glass. “Carpe diem.”

She chuckled. “Considering the hour, Carpe night.”

He joined in her laughter as they sipped their wine.

“I hope you like it spicy. I got some chicken in coconut curry sauce,” Dan said, opening the basket. “And of course, beef in peanut sauce with fried green beans.”

“Sounds good. If you like it hot, you should try my rumaki some time,” Lois countered. “It’ll blow your socks off.”

Dan smiled. “Just call it a date, and I’ll be there.”

Lois tensed. She liked Dan. She liked that he liked her. She liked that he was here. She liked that he was real, not imaginary. She liked that he wasn’t going to give up on her, despite all of her hang-ups.

But…

She didn’t know if she wanted to like him for more than a friend just yet. She certainly didn’t want to rush into anything, and Dan seemed to live only in one speed: fast. She lived a dangerous life too as an investigative journalist, but that had just made her more cautious in her relationships instead of less. She needed to test the relationship waters before she dove in. She had been hurt too many times before.

“Dan, I like you,” she admitted and watched as his big grin faltered.

They both heard the unspoken ‘but’ hanging between them.

“Look, Lois, as I told you, I’m willing to wait,” he said, trying to stop her from breaking up with him before they had even had one date. “Unless this thing with Clark is… well… serious.”

Lois’s jaw dropped. She forgot she had told him she was dating a guy named Clark. “I have a confession…”

Dan’s interest was piqued.

“Clark is my imaginary friend.” She shot Dan a huge, embarrassed grin. That was better than explaining the truth: that Clark was a co-worker in her dreams, a man that she wouldn’t dream of dating, because her heart belonged to Superman.

“Imaginary friend?” Whatever he had been expecting this hadn’t been it.

“I use him as an excuse when I want to get out of something…” Lois told him. That seemed to be a viable explanation, and a good use for “Clark”. She was definitely going to hang on to him.

“Like going out with me?” Dan’s tone was light and his words rhetorical, but she could tell he was hurt by this confession. “Why are you telling me this?” Then his eyes brightened. “Is it because you’ve changed your mind?”

“As I said, Dan, I like you, and if this does develop beyond friendship, I don’t want that lie hanging between us, but relationships aren’t something I dive into. I’ve learned the hard way that I need to be cautious.” She reached over and touched his arm. “Let me get to know you better before I decide if rumaki is a date or just a dinner with a friend.” Then she laughed. “Or a death sentence. I’m really a horrible cook.”

He joined her laughter. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

***

There was a festival of sorts in the streets outside of the Daily Planet. Everywhere Lois looked there were people selling Superman trinkets, Superman t-shirts, Superman balloons, Superman dolls, and photos with a Superman cut-out. There were little boys dressed up as Superman and grown-ups waving Superman flags. They were giving the Key to the City of Metropolis to Superman. ‘He so completely deserved it,’ thought Lois.

She waved and called out to him, but either he didn’t remember her… No! Of course, he remembered her; he must not see and hear her in the din. With his Super eyesight or his Super ears, of course, he should be able to see and hear her. He looked uncomfortable and self-conscience with all the adoration, as opposed to Lex Luthor, who knew how to work a crowd.

The crowd faded, and Lois found herself at a charitable auction. Bid on a date with a bachelor for blind children. Nobody actually cared about the blind children. They cared, but that was not why any of them were really there. She had gone there to bid on a date with Superman, but he hadn’t even noticed her, and she had been outbid. Way outbid. By forty-five thousand dollars. Superman had walked right past her like she was invisible.

So, she did something she rarely ever did. She went to drown her sorrows.

Lex Luthor came up to her at the bar and refilled his champagne glass, after she had refilled hers for the third time. Actually, the man was polishing his boots with a napkin. What was this, the wild west? It was an uncivilized move for someone like Lex, but personally, she didn’t care. All she could feel was self-pity because Superman hadn’t noticed her.

“I’m sorry that I had to cancel our lunch; it’s just that Superman is such a big draw,” she told Lex.

“Yes, and apparently, not only for you,” responded Lex. It almost sounded like he was jealous of her attentions to Superman. That was ridiculous. Lex Luthor jealous?!

Lois glanced over and saw Superman laughing and holding the hand of the bejeweled woman who had bid that outrageous amount of money for one afternoon with him.

“I thought you’d like to reschedule,” Lex continued.

She thought about that as she watched Superman with that wealthy widow. “Yes, I’d like that. Very much.”

Lex raised his champagne glass to her. “So would I,” he said and then drifted off.

Lois was left at the bar with a tentative date with the third richest man in the world. Why did this thought depress her? She was still nursing her champagne when a familiar man sat down next to her.

“A date with Superman, huh?” Clark said.

Just what this evening needed: Kent to come and make fun of her. “What are you doing here? Barn dance let out early?” Misery loved company? Ha!

He chuckled. “I filed the Morris story. You’re very welcome.”

Frankly, Lois didn’t care as she took another sip of her drink. “I was saving for Tahiti,” she admitted to her colleague. “… but a date with Superman… that would have been a real adventure.” She pictured Superman and her on the beach in Tahiti, him having flown them in for the afternoon. She sighed as reality set back in, her emotions on the edge. “Oh, Clark. He doesn’t even know I’m alive. Maybe it was stupid of me to think that he cared.”

“It’s not so stupid, Lois,” Clark murmured, again with a tone like he understood exactly how she felt. “Did you ever think that Superman was afraid to reveal himself? His true feelings?”

Lois thought about that. “Hhhhmmm.” Was Clark saying what she thought he was saying? That Superman actually liked her? “Hhhhmmm.” That would be nice. She had to admit that Clark was pretty observant. Maybe he had noticed something that she hadn’t. Some way that Superman had looked at her when she wasn’t looking at him, but that was a ridiculous idea. Lois was ALWAYS looking at Superman. How could she not? He was… well, Superman.

“Come on. I’ll get you a cab,” Clark told her as he helped her to her feet.

Then it was the middle of the night and someone was persistently knocking on her door. Lois dragged herself from where she had fallen asleep on her bed – on top of her covers and still in her robe – and over to the door. But when she got there, there wasn’t anyone there. She went into her kitchen to get a drink of milk. She drank straight from the carton; something she would never do, if anyone else was there.

“Lois Lane?” a voice from the darkness of her apartment asked, startling her.

“Who’s there? I’ve got a…” She grabbed a metal spatula and held it up. Pathetic! “…weapon!” In a defensive stance, she reached back and turned on the kitchen lights, but she still couldn’t see anyone.

“Jimmy?! Where are you?” She slowly started approaching her living room. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny!”

“No. It’s no joke. It’s just me,” said that voice again, more hesitantly and nervously than before. Only this time the voice was coming from a head of a blond man, a head floating in midair without a body. “I’m the Invisible Man.”

Lois screamed and fainted.

“Lois! Lois!” Sarah was shaking her awake. “You’re having a nightmare, Lois. Wake up!”

Lois blinked her eyes and focused on the young woman. “Huh?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Sarah said more softly, sitting down next to her on the bed. “Are you all right?”

The reporter pulled her knees up to her chin. “Yeah. A nightmare. Superman didn’t even notice me.” She sighed despondently.

Sarah raised a brow. “Superman?”

Lois gazed upwards before closing her eyes and sighing, relaxing into her pillows. “He’s that man from my dreams, I told you about. He’s perfect, really. He’s a superhero. He’s super strong, super fast, invulnerable, and he even flies. And when he holds me in his arms…” She shivered with another sigh.

“A superhero?” Sarah’s jaw was hanging open now.

The reporter’s defenses shot up. “Yeah. So what if he is? Everyone dreams of their perfect man.”

“Sorry,” explained the young psych student. “I just didn’t expect that from you. You seemed so based in reality, but from everything you’ve told me about the death of your two friends, I can see why you’d be attracted by a superhero. Someone who could protect you from life’s pain. Someone who could fly you away when life got too rough or fly you into the heat of a story. Someone who couldn’t die. Yep. Definitely your perfect mate.”

Lois smiled. It felt good to have someone validate her feelings for Superman.

“But Mr. Perfect is looking straight through you, like you’re invisible?” Sarah asked. “Doesn’t sound too super to me.”

“Clark thinks that Superman is just shy, that he’s hiding his true feelings for me,” Lois explained.

“Clark? Who’s Clark?” Sarah asked, confused.

Oh, crap. Why did she have to bring him up? Sarah was going to have her committed. Lois pushed Sarah out of the way and climbed out of bed. She went into the kitchen, opened her freezer, and pulled out her half-gallon of ice cream with the spoon still inside it from the last time.

“Lois?” Sarah asked again, taking two bowls out of the cupboard. “Who’s Clark?”

Lois sighed. “Clark is my partner. Kind of. Sort of. In my dreams. It’s like I’m reliving the last year and a half of my life in my dreams. Only now, my life is perfect.”

“So, was this before or after you met Lex Luthor?” Sarah inquired as Lois filled her bowl with ice cream. “Is he alive and well in these dreams?”

Lois’s brow furrowed. The first dream was set about the time she introduced herself to Lex at his White Orchid Ball. Only instead of going stag after Mitchell canceled at the last minute, she had brought Clark as her ‘date’. So, Lex was definitely alive in her dreams. Did these dreams have to do with him? “Yeah, and he’s jealous of my interest in Superman.”

“And you have a partner at work,” Sarah stated. “Do you need a partner?”

“No!” Lois exclaimed.

“You want a partner though?” her houseguest rephrased.

“No! Yes. Well, I don’t know. I never thought I did, but Clark…” She sighed. But what about Clark? “He and I mesh together really well. I’m logical. He’s emotional. I’m city. He’s country. I’m pushy. He’s polite. He’s not afraid of me. He doesn’t let me push him around. He actually stands up to me when he thinks I’m wrong, not that I ever am, mind you. But he also takes care of me like a best friend,” Lois explained. “He’s a yang to my yin.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Okay. So, in this ‘perfect’ dream world you’ve created for yourself, you’ve got two men or three men actually: ‘the super man’, ‘the best friend’, and ‘the rich man’, right? Are you involved with any of them?”

Lois shrugged and took a bite of her ice cream. “Love takes time. And I’ve got all the time in the world in my dreams to catch Superman’s eye.”

“But, Lois, that’s all Superman is: a dream man, a fantasy. He isn’t real. He doesn’t exist. And never will. Clark is also a fantasy, but a different kind. He’s your co-worker who you always beat out for stories. He supports you emotionally, but he also keeps you on your toes professionally, right? So, Clark’s more real, but he doesn’t exist either. And Lex? Well, he’s dead.”

The smile dropped off Lois’s face. Why had she told Sarah about her dreams?

“Lois, it’s classic, Psych 101.” Sarah looked down into her dish of chocolate ice cream. “Okay, look, have you ever had Rocky Road ice cream?”

Lois looked at Sarah skeptically. “I think that’s a bad example if you’re going to be talking about relationships.”

“Just a metaphor, Lois. Just go with me.”

Lois scoffed, but continued to listen.

“Now, if I told you that you could have one ice cream flavor for the rest of your life. What would it be? Rocky Road or chocolate?” asked Sarah.

Lois had figured out the metaphor. Men as ice cream. Good example, Sarah. She smiled, leaning back against the counter. “Well… I don’t know. I guess I have to try the Rocky Road before I decide.” Was Superman Rocky Road? The answer was simple. Give her a spoon!

Sarah pointed at her. “That’s the point. Clark’s chocolate. It’s good and all, but you’ve had it.”

“Yes, but you can put hot fudge on it and whipped cream.” Lois grinned. “And nuts.”

“Right. You take the great guy that Clark is and add all the super hero bits and you get… Superman! He’s the sundae with the works. Chocolate ice cream, whipped cream, nuts, cherry.” The young woman smiled. “Bananas.”

“Oh, bananas,” Lois moaned as she rested her head on her palm and thought about eating that banana split. Her bowl of chocolate ice cream seemed to pale in comparison.

“Don’t take me there,” Sarah begged her.

Lois grinned. She didn’t think that Sarah was talking about food anymore, although, neither was Lois.

“Okay, now, this Scardino guy, he’s Rocky Road. He’s different, interesting, chunky. He’s a mix between plain chocolate and the sundae.”

“You know, Sarah, if you go around trying every flavor that comes out you’re going to get awfully fat,” Lois said, taking the last bite from her bowl, like she was one to talk.

“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you. Superman is the sundae. Do you really want to have a sundae all the time? He’s just a fantasy. He won’t seem so special if he’s around all the time. What you want is a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I’m telling you, Lois, it’s time to take out that little pink taster spoon and try Rocky Road.” Sarah got up, set her empty bowl in the sink, and went into the other room. “Anyway, you’ll always have your chocolate sundae in your dreams.”

Lois leaned back against the counter and thought about that. “Not necessarily.” She sighed. “I think I’d really miss my chocolate sundae if I couldn’t have it.”

***

Chapter Four

There was a knock at the door. Lois hadn’t gotten much sleep. Between her stakeout with Scardino, which kept her up until three in the morning, then her Superman nightmare and ice cream pig-out therapy session with Sarah, Lois was running only on one cylinder, or was it half a cylinder? Dan had called her about ten that morning and told her that his researcher was finally able to hack into Golden’s old military files; he was on his way over to tell her what they had found.

She was still in her grey morning sweats. After all that ice cream the night before, she had taken some time to work some of it off. If she was going to scare Scardino off with how she looked like in the morning, she might as well do it before they got intimate. Oh, God, was she thinking about getting intimate with Dan?

But luckily, the man on the other side of the door wasn’t Dan, it was Jimmy. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I think I left my wallet here last night,” he told her, following her into the kitchen, where she set down the plant she had been watering.

“I was just about to get dressed,” she responded, heading towards her bedroom. “Help yourself to some fruit.”

Lois pulled a blouse and vest set out of her closet. It was a bit conservative, but she didn’t want to lead Dan on. It wasn’t like she owned Cat clothes anyway. “I’m surprised that Perry let you go out alone,” she called to Jimmy. She held up the shirt in front of her as she looked in the mirror. “Katherine Wilder leave her house?”

Suddenly, she saw a very angry, very determined Jimmy standing behind her in the mirror with her large kitchen knife. At the last second, she dropped her clothes and turned, grabbing his arm and twisting it away from her. The knife fell and scattered across the floor. She pushed Jimmy over, ran out of her bedroom, picking up the knife, and tried to open her front door. For some reason, it wouldn’t budge. Had Jimmy locked it?

Before Lois could try anything else, Jimmy seized her shoulders and threw her across the room. He was stronger than he looked.

Lois faced him and tried to talk sense into him. “Come on, Jimmy! Jimmy, it’s Lois! You’ve been brainwashed.”

Jimmy paid her no heed. He picked up her tall standing lamp and, using it like a pole, knocked the knife out of her hand. She kicked him in the gut, pushing him against her chair, which broke both her lamp and the chair, but it bought her enough time to get to the door and unlock it. Unfortunately, that was when Jimmy hit her in the back of the legs with the pole of the lamp, bringing her to the floor.

“What’s going on out here?” yawned a half-awake Sarah. “Jimmy!” she screamed, but he ignored her.

Jimmy sat on top of Lois and pulled the cord of the lamp around her neck as Lois tried to keep him from tightening the cord.

“Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy, it’s me! Lois!”

Sarah threw the plant that Lois had just watered at Jimmy’s head, but he ducked out of the way. She picked up Lois’s phone and instead of calling for the police, she threw it at him. Sarah wasn’t really helping, but at least she was distracting Jimmy from pulling the wire tighter.

“Jimmy, stop, please,” Lois begged as her front door opened and Dr. Wilder, Mrs. Wilder – the doctor’s mother – and some bearded guy walked into her apartment.

Sarah jumped onto Jimmy’s back to try and hold back his arms.

“Warrior,” Mrs. Wilder called out to them. “Stop!”

Both Sarah and Jimmy froze and turned to her for more instructions.

“Sarah, go stand in the corner. Jimmy continue to kill Lois Lane,” Mrs. Wilder finished.

The young woman let go of Jimmy and went to stand in the corner like a robot. Jimmy tightened the cord around Lois’s neck.

“You’re killing me,” Lois croaked.

“I don’t want to, Lois. I have to,” explained Jimmy, twisting the cord around his hands.

A risky idea flashed in Lois’s mind. Relaxing for a fraction of a moment, Lois closed her eyes and whispered, “I’m dead.”

Jimmy relaxed his hold on her, long enough for Lois to shift her body. She brought up her knees, pushing him off balance and towards her, then she head-butted him. “WARRIOR!” she shouted, guessing that was the code-word to controlling the brainwashed zombies.

The bearded man ran from the room.

“Hey, Lois, what did you do that for?” Jimmy asked, rubbing his head.

“Jimmy! Jump out the window!” ordered Mrs. Wilder.

He looked away from where Lois was coughing on the floor, trying to regain her breath. “I don’t think so, Lady.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Mrs. Wilder as she and Katherine Wilder started for the door.

“Stop them,” ordered Lois, her voice still hoarse.

Both Jimmy and Sarah grabbed the two blonde women and held them with their hands behind their backs.

A few seconds later, a bleeding Dan Scardino brought, at gunpoint, the bearded man into her apartment. Dan looked between the Wilder women and the bearded man. “Something tells me that you folks aren’t Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

“Warrior,” Lois repeated, collapsing on the floor in relief. She wanted to make sure that the Wilders didn’t try to re-control Jimmy and Sarah while Dan was handcuffing the bad guys… or gals, in this case.

***

“Jimmy will be fine,” Perry informed Lois in his office later that day. “Now, I can understand if you don’t want to partner up with him anymore… uh… being that he tried to… um… kill you…”

Lois waved that idea out of the air. Jimmy was her lackey, and she wasn’t going to lose him over a little brainwashing. “Well, as long as I get to still control him…” she started to say as she rubbed the red line on her throat.

“I just went to visit Jimmy and Sarah at the hospital. They’re having the antidotes administered as we speak. He’ll be deprogrammed and back at work later in the week,” Perry told her. “Of course, being that he tried to kill you, you might still have a bit of leverage there without the drugs.” He smiled knowingly.

She returned the smile. They both knew that Jimmy’s guilt meter would say that he owed her for a long time in the future.

“But I don’t want you to take advantage of the kid,” Perry warned her.

Lois rolled her eyes. Where was the fun in that? With her lips pressed together, she returned to her desk.

“The last time I saw that expression on your face, you were sticking a plunger in my stomach,” said Dan, appearing at her desk. He had a bandage on his forehead covering the gash he had earned during his battle with Jimmy prior to the photographer reaching her apartment.

“Hi,” Lois said softly, still tired from her lack of sleep from the night before and her battle for life this morning.

“Hi… uh…” Dan said, pulling a notepad out of his jeans pocket. “I’ve got some background information on Tysian I thought you might want to know about…” He flipped through his notepad as he looked for the right page.

Sarah was right. Superman hadn’t come to her rescue that morning when her life was on the line. He was just a fantasy. On the other hand, Dan had been there for her that morning. She had rescued herself, but he had been there. Plus, he was real, not imaginary. “The only thing I want to know is: would you like to go out?”

Dan’s gaze returned to hers. He hadn’t been expecting that question, and it made him speechless for a moment. She enjoyed that startled expression on his face.

“You mean, like on a date?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yeah, on a date,” she clarified.

His face lit up with joy and enthusiasm. “Well… Yeah! I mean…”

“Great. You’re on,” Lois said, picking up her briefcase.

Still startled, Dan asked, “Just out of curiosity, did something happen that I should know about?”

Lois glanced over at Jimmy’s empty desk. In her dreams, it was the one where Clark sat. She felt a tug of longing to have a man like that in her life. But he was just another fantasy. She shook her head and smiled at Dan. “Come on. How about a late lunch? Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, sure. How about an early dinner instead? Or I know this terrific ice cream parlor. Do you like ice cream? They make the best Rocky Road…” Dan gushed.

Lois felt a wave of familiarity to his ramblings. “Shut up, Scardino.”

He winked at her. “Call me Dan.” That was what he had kept telling her while they worked on Mayson’s murder together when she had refused to call him anything other than his last name.

“Dan,” she corrected, smiling. “So, they make the best Rocky Road, huh? I’ll have to try me some of that.”

***

“So were you and Jena more than just partners?” Lois asked Scardino as she leaned back, setting her napkin on her empty plate. The Indian food at this restaurant was good, a bit spicier than she normally liked, but good. Bobby Bigmouth had recommended the place to her the last time she had brought him food. She would have to thank him.

Dan looked down. He liked to joke around, but she could tell he felt uncomfortable talking about the personal stuff. Sometimes looking at Dan was like seeing her feelings in a mirror. That thought gave her a chill.

In order to let someone really know you, you have to let them see you as you really are, Lois told herself. Was Dan letting her see the real him? As soon as you let someone see you as you really are, they end up using it against you, she then thought. She pressed her lips together. Certainly enough men had done that to her – used her own flaws and insecurities against her. So she had created this disguise of a tough-as-nails woman, but inside she was very different.

“Yes,” Dan admitted. Then he changed his mind. “No.”

Lois raised an eyebrow and waited. She had had complicated relationships like that. Take Lex.

“When you work with someone closely, like Jena and I did, naturally you form a tight bond.” He sighed. “I was in love with her, madly in love.” Dan shrugged. Lois guessed in an attempt to defuse the intensity of his words. “But to her, I was just her partner, a fellow agent. I had started to change her mind, wear her down. I had even pictured us getting married someday. But let’s not talk about Jena…”

Marriage is about sharing everything you have, even if you don’t feel like it, said a voice inside her head that sounded strangely like Clark. Was Clark pro-marriage? Of course, he was. He was from Kansas!

~So is divorce. Just ask my mother,~ she snapped back in her head.

Lois pressed her eyes together and shook her head. Was she having an argument with Clark inside her head while at dinner with Dan? Was this a dream flashback? Or something else?

“Are you okay, Lois?” Dan asked her, taking hold of her hand across the table.

She looked down at their hands and felt… nothing. Not hope. Not excitement. Nothing. With Lex she felt a little thrill of pride that the world’s third richest person – second richest man – had been interested in her. With Superman she felt fireworks. But with Dan she was numb.

“I…” Lois swallowed. Lex was dead. And Superman a fantasy. Dan was real, she reminded herself. “I understand. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened with Lex if he hadn’t been shot.”

Dan nodded. “I guess we have more in common than I thought. I hadn’t realized that you two had been so close.”

You don’t need to bid for my attention, Lois, whispered Superman in her ear.

Lois turned to look at Superman, but there was no one there.

You’ll always be special to me, Lois, Superman continued. You’re the first woman who ever… His voice seemed to falter as if searching for the correct words. Her heart raced in anticipation.

“Lois. Lo-is…” called Dan, waving a hand in front of her face. “You seem a million miles away.”

She was a million miles away. Superman just told her that she was special to him.

“Sorry, Dan. All I feel like doing is crawling into bed. Do you mind?” she asked before explaining. “It’s been a long day, and I didn’t sleep well last night.”

His eyes popped for a moment, before he answered, his voice rough, “Sure. I’ll just go pay the check.”

Lois’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t wait to get into bed with Superman. Dream of Superman, she corrected as she felt her cheeks redden. She was glad Scardino had already gotten up to pay and hadn’t seen her blush. By the time he had returned, she had gotten her color back under control.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe I should take you to the hospital and have the E.R. doctors check you out,” suggested Dan.

“I’m fine. The EMTs already examined me. I just need some sleep,” Lois said, standing up. “Take me home, and get me to bed.”

Dan swallowed. “Lois, I like you a lot, but I think that’s a bit much for our first date,” he teased her to let her know that her words could be construed another way.

Oh, God! What had she been saying to him? She decided to play it off like a joke. “So, no double entendre with your curry sauce?”

“No, thank you,” Dan replied faux-sternly, taking her arm. “But if you want to give me a goodnight kiss at your door, I can honestly say it won’t be turned down.”

She patted his chest. It didn’t feel as good as when she patted Clark’s chest. There was something solid about the way Clark felt. She sighed. But Dan’s chest was real, not imaginary. “Why don’t we save that for a time when I’m right in the head?”

“So…” Dan paused as he unlocked her car door before going around to climb in the driver’s side. “Never?”

Lois stood there for a moment, contemplating why she wanted him to actually open the door for her. She didn’t need a man to open doors for her; so why was she suddenly expecting such chivalrous behavior from Dan? She pulled open the door and sat down.

Once they were inside the car, he repeated his jokey question, “Never? Or lunch in a couple of days and then dinner Saturday in a week?”

“I’d like that,” she told him with a smile. And that was the truth. She hadn’t been all there for this first date and it seemed like she was getting a second chance to make a first impression on him. She would take the opportunity and run with it. She needed to get Superman and Clark and her dreams out of her conscious mind and back into her subconscious. “Lunch, that is… and dinner.”

***

She and Alan Morris – the original Invisible Man – were locked inside the air-tight vault at the Gold Repository and they were running out of air.

“Superman, where are you?” Lois gasped with her last breath.

Suddenly the wall crumbled and in came Superman. He took her in his arms and looked at her like there was no other woman in the world. He leaned towards her almost as if he were going to kiss her… oh, please, please, kiss her. Just this once!… but then the police SWAT team came in through the hole in the vault Superman had made.

Or at least, Lois thought Superman had wanted to kiss her. She was woozy from the lack of oxygen. He pulled her into an embrace instead, and in some ways that was better than a kiss. It showed her that she mattered to him and that he had been worried. Actually, his expression had reminded her of the way Clark gazed at her sometimes when he didn’t know she was looking at him looking at her.

Superman scooped her into his arms and carried her outside. It was the most wonderful combination ever imaginable: Superman, sunshine, and fresh air. Lois could stay in that moment forever.

But the image faded as Lois’s alarm clock reminded her it was Wednesday. Jimmy would finally be returning to the Daily Planet after his ‘deprogramming’ at the hospital. Not that she would ever admit it, but she had missed the kid. It seemed quieter around the office without his silly comments and eager smile.

She really needed to stop thinking of Jimmy as a kid. He was twenty-two now. But for some reason ‘kid’ just seemed like the right word for him. Like a kid brother.

***

A huge bouquet of red and white striped tulips emerged from the elevator in the arms of the floral deliveryman. It headed straight for Lois’s desk.

“Lois Lane, ma’am?” the deliveryman said to Lois, handing her his log. “Sign here, please.”

She smiled at him and signed. “Thanks.”

“Whoa! Lois! Agent Scardino on a stakeout at a florist’s shop?” Jimmy teased, coming around the corner.

Lois decided not to dignify Jimmy’s remark with an answer. “Oooh. A note.” She opened it and began reading, “‘Dear Lois. Sorry, but I need to reschedule lunch; I have to go out of town. Should be back by Saturday. Can’t wait. Yours in tulips, Dan’.”

She set down the note and sighed. At least it wasn’t another hideous mobile statue thing.

***

Lois sat at her desk – once again on hold – staring at the card Dan had sent with the flowers. ‘Yours in tulips, Dan.’ What did that mean? Her heart had ached with disappointment when she had read his note. That was something, wasn’t it? Better than the numbness she had felt at dinner when he had held her hand.

She should really be working on the Intergang angle and how it connected with Multiworld Communications. Technically, since she was on hold, she was working.

Lois kept thinking back to her date with Dan. She had asked him to tell her about his current case: dead end. She asked him to tell her what he did for the DEA: change of subject. Dan told her that his work was strictly off limits. He would not, could not talk about it. He had said this while taking her straight home. They had both forgotten about the Rocky Road. Probably not a good ice cream flavor for a first date anyway, Lois thought to herself.

The sound of the hold music changed. Super. Kenny Loggins. If she had a partner, then she could leave him with all the boring ‘calling everyone on the phone’ and ‘waiting for hours on hold’ part of her job, and she could be out pounding the pavement, getting the story.

“Partners?” Lois grumbled to her boss.

“You and Kent. The experience of the battle scarred veteran paired with the hunger of the exciting fresh talent,” enthused Perry as they walked out of the elevator and down into the bullpen.

“I’m not that scarred. And he’s not that exciting,” she clarified.

“Your tenacity. His tact. Believe me, Lois, the two of you… there’s chemistry there. It’s gonna make for great stories.”

Chemistry? Her and Superman, without doubt, but her and Kent? He must be kidding.

“But… Perry, partnership is like marriage.” This time it was definitely a whine.

“That’s right. You’ve got to work at it,” responded her boss.

“It takes patience and understanding and a willingness to be supportive,” Lois told him, like she had any experience with either… a partnership or a marriage. Or even a long-term relationship.

“I know, honey,” Perry said sympathetically, patting her arm. “Fake it. Now, go find your partner.”

She turned around and saw Clark leaning against the receptionist desk. Had that been a hint of sadness in his eyes before he smiled at her? Had he heard what she had said to Perry? Did he not like being lumped together with her as much as she hated being lumped together with him? No, he had always wanted to be her partner. She remembered the day of the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility like it had been the day before. He had practically begged her to be his partner. Perry must have finally caved to shut him up.

“Howdy, partner,” Clark said, waving a blue folder at her. “What sounds better? ‘Kent and Lane’? Or ‘Lane and Kent’? ‘Kent and Lane’? ‘Lane and Kent’?”

“Neither,” responded Lois, annoyed. Truthfully, she liked Clark. As a colleague. A reporter. And maybe even as a person. She just didn’t want or need a partner.

“‘Lane and Kent’ definitely,” replied Jimmy from behind Clark.

“Why?” asked her ‘partner’, turning around.

“Tradition. Abbot and Costello. Martin and Lewis,” explained Jimmy. “The straight man always goes first.”

Lois pressed her lips together. Terrific. They’re making jokes already. “Either way, it will never work,” she informed Clark.

“Come on, it won’t be that bad,” said an ever-optimistic Clark.

“It will be that bad. It will be worse,” Lois replied.

The sound of a dial-tone in her ear let her know that whoever she had been on hold with had hung up. Had they ever come to the phone? Had she heard them? Was she too distracted with the memory of becoming Kent’s partner? Either way, she hung up the phone. No point of remaining on the line.

Lois shifted some papers around on her desk, trying to find something, anything to connect Multiworld Communication’s Bill Church, Jr. to Intergang. Perry’s yelling matches with Mr. Stern were getting progressively worse. Their publisher would be selling the Daily Planet and the only bidder at the moment was Multiworld Communications.

No. Not memory. It couldn’t have been a memory, unless it had been a recollection of her dream, which truthfully, didn’t make sense. How come she could remember her dreams so vividly recently, when she never had before? It was like they were invading her conscious self. She shook this line of thought out of her mind and went back to work.

***

Chapter Five

Jimmy leaned against Lois’ desk as she talked on the phone with the Daily Planet’s publisher. “Mr. Stern, Lois Lane here… Well, no, Perry isn’t in right now, because he had to… uh…” She looked at Jimmy wide-eyed, trying to think of an excuse to explain the Chief’s absence. “Had to…” Suddenly, an idea struck her. “Meet a source that would only talk to him.”

Jimmy gave her the A-OK hand signal with a big grin.

“Uh… No, we haven’t gotten any more on the Intergang connection, but we’re working on it,” Lois continued into the telephone as she watched Jimmy’s grin fade. “Well, yes, I know I speak for Perry when I say that it would be a bad idea to sell… Oh, sure, no problem… Well, say hello to the Eiffel Tower for me,” she said, trying to sound chipper. “Oh. You’re in Rome now. Ciao!” With a sigh, Lois hung up the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell him that Perry had been kidnapped?” Jimmy asked.

“Because that’s the one thing that would make him sell. One more crisis and BOOM! We all will be writing headlines about Oprah’s latest diet. We’ve got to keep this thing quiet,” Lois explained.

The travel editor ran up to Lois and Jimmy and held up two photos. “Bali or Seychelles?”

“Perry isn’t here now, Karl,” Lois told him.

“I need an answer now. The Sunday magazine closes in five!”

Lois looked between the two pictures with a shrug. “Well… Run both.”

“That means I need more copy,” complained Karl.

Lois’ eyes grew large as she realized that she had just doubled Karl’s workload.

“Oh, God!” growled Karl, who ran off.

***

The next morning, Lois was back on the phone with the publisher with more excuses. “No, Mr. Stern, I haven’t seen Perry this morning… Maybe he had car trouble… Yes, I realize that Multiworld Communications needs an answer in forty-eight hours… You know, you might want to reconsider your position on… Oh, of course… Well, I’ll tell him to call you as soon as I see him.” Her cheeks hurting from all her fake-cheerfulness, she hung up phone.

What was she going to do? Perry was kidnapped. The police had nothing but her sketch of the man who kidnapped him, but they had accomplished zip. She was running the Planet solo and trying to find her boss at the same time. This was exactly why she needed a real partner. Someone off whom she could bounce ideas.

“You’re waiting for me to talk about it… to open up. See, this is exactly why I hate partnerships,” Lois stated the obvious to her new partner.

Clark put down his pencil and actually sounded annoyed when he asked, “Why?”

“Because your partner is always there for you whether you want them there or not. Because your partner is there to share your troubles. Well, I don’t feel like sharing,” she announced.

Clark held up his hands and paper in mock-defeat.

“Okay, so I don’t get along with my father,” Lois admitted. “Big deal.”

“No big deal.”

“I mean haven’t you met anyone so wrapped up in their work that they don’t have time for anyone or anything?”

“Is this a trick question?” Clark asked, apparently saying that those words could describe her.

“Okay. Okay. But at least I don’t have kids.”

“Oh, Clark.” Lois sighed to herself. “Where are you when I need you?”

Jimmy walked up behind her and handed her a pile of photo sheets. Lois didn’t even look at them before handing them back to him. “Jimmy, I have to go out for a while. Hold down the fort.” Then she walked out of the newsroom as he stood behind her, his mouth ajar.

“Isn’t that what they said to Jim Bowie at the Alamo?” he called to her.

***

Lois removed a message taped to her computer. The fresh air from her walk around the block had done her worlds of good. The hotdog sustenance hadn’t hurt either. Well, not yet, at least. She was ready to face the hell that was her life again.

“Jimmy!” she called out to her partner in crime, who came running. “Bobby Bigmouth called. He’s identified the police artist sketch of Perry’s kidnapper. Gene Newtrich. He’s a soil engineer.”

“Soil engineer and part-time kidnapper,” responded Jimmy.

She continued to read down the note. “We’ve even got a working address.”

“What are we waiting for?!” said Jimmy with enthusiasm.

Lois shook her head. “Sorry, Jimmy. One of us has to stay here.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and lowered his voice. “You do realize that the Chief wouldn’t want me in charge, don’t you? I’ll go, and you stay.”

“You do realize that Perry isn’t going to care if I don’t find him,” Lois retorted, throwing the strap of her briefcase over her shoulder and heading for the elevators.

As she rode the elevator down to the street level she could picture the same type of conversation with Clark…

“Clark, I think I should go alone…” Lois said, grabbing her briefcase and putting on her coat.

“Okay,” Clark replied, taking a step back.

“It’s just that he would be more comfortable…” she continued, explaining.

“More comfortable talking to someone he knows. I get it. Go.” He nodded, sending her on her way alone.

Lois stood there speechless. Clark had agreed with her? “Sometimes, you surprise me.”

That would be a nice change: a partner who backed her up and didn’t argue when she was clearly in the right.

***

Lois walked up to the door of Gene Newtrich’s office and looked at the security keypad to open the door. “There must be a zillion combinations to that thing,” she mumbled to herself. How in the hell was she going to get inside? She tried to look through the smoky glass of the door, but no such luck. It was just too dark. Then, she tried to type combinations into the keypad, hoping that some random mishmash of numbers would work.

Five minutes later she was still standing there, typing away. Nothing.

She heard someone coming, whistling. She went around the corner of the hallway and hid. A janitor came to Newtrich’s door and opened it. She watched which numbers he plugged into the keypad and then gave herself a fist-pump ‘all right!’ gesture.

A few minutes later the janitor left and Lois typed the same numbers into the keypad. Success! Ha! Who needed a partner with computer know-how, when she had brains, tenacity, and dumb luck?

The sixty-four thousand dollar question was why a soil engineer was in on a plot to kidnap Perry. She went through drawers randomly. She saw maps and files. Nothing of interest jumped out at her. Over by the door she found some building plans. “Newtrich has got to be tied to some larger organization,” she told herself. She flipped over some papers and underneath found the substructure plans for Cost Mart. “Newtrich works for Cost Mart! Cost Mart is run by Bill Church, Jr., which means that Newtrich might work for Intergang.” She folded up the plans and snuck back out of Newtrich’s office.

Now, it made sense who had kidnapped Perry. This was the type of stuff they needed down at the police department. Only she couldn’t tell them without disclosing her act of B&E. Crap. She would have to visit Cost Mart on her own. First though, she needed to study these plans.

***

“What are you writing?” Clark inquired, sitting down next to Lois at her desk.

“The story,” Lois stated the obvious.

“Saying what?”

“Dr. Sam Lane is performing these surgeries secretly,” she said, reading off her computer screen as she typed.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Sure, I’m sure.”

“Well, I’m not so sure we were at your father’s office last night,” Clark told her.

Lois turned to look at him. “What?”

“Maybe I was home asleep. And you were watching a late movie on TV,” he suggested.

“What is with you?” Lois gazed at Clark like he had lost his mind. “We took those pictures?”

Clark put the photos taken at her father’s office of the mechanical body parts into his inside jacket pocket. “What pictures?”

“Clark, this is the biggest scandal in boxing history.” There she went, stating the obvious again.

“No doubt about it,” Clark agreed with her. “Look. We print this, whoever killed Allie is going to want your father out of the way, too.”

Lois swallowed, realizing what he said could very well be true.

She sighed. Clark had been right, she thought to herself as memories of her dream distracted her from the Cost Mart plans again. Unlike what happened in reality, in her dreams it had been Clark who had found her father’s secret office behind his bookcase instead of her.

Strangely though, when she had gone to her father’s office with Clark, there had been an earthquake; yet, there hadn’t been one when she had gone there by herself. Must have been some weird component of the dream state. True, when she had been there alone – in real life – she had almost been caught by Max Menken and one of his boxers. Although, luckily for her, they hadn’t seen her duck into her father’s examination room and out another door.

Lois knew that Clark’s suggestion had been right, because that was exactly what had happened to her father when the article had been published, instead of buried as it had been in her dream. Her father had gone underground and ended up in witness protection after he had agreed to turn state’s evidence against Menken and his boxers.

She hadn’t seen her father for longer than five minutes before he was relocated. Five minutes to tell him she loved him, and five minutes for him to tell her – for the first time in his life – that he was proud of her, despite all that had happened to him because of her article. She wondered if she would ever see Dr. Sam Lane again. Some of the cyborg boxers had been taken into custody, some disappeared, so her father still had a reason to hide.

Was that what her dreams were? Wishful thinking? Or was it something else? Was it a window into another life?

Lois went back to studying the plans. And back to coming up with bupkis. She wished Clark was real; she could use his input. Of course, if Clark had been real, she would have ended up in Perry’s doghouse for pulling her punches on her father’s involvement with cyborg boxers.

Lois stormed out of Perry’s office past a whistling Jimmy. “I’ve seen it before, but I’ve never been in it.”

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, following her back to her desk. They passed Clark, who joined them.

“Perry’s doghouse.”

“Police academy graduation,” Clark said, telling her of his ‘doghouse’ story.

“Nice.” She went to get a cup of coffee. She had some auto show crap. Clark went along with her and she told him, “I guess we’re not partners anymore.”

“Guess not,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry, Clark. Really.” She actually was being honest with him. She liked working with Clark.

“It’s just as well.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just as well. You don’t want to be partnered with a hypocritical reporter who talks a good game but backs off the minute things hit too close to home.”

Clark smiled. “Yes, I do.”

This Clark fellow better stop saying things like that to her or Superman might have competition for her heart. She grinned for the first time all day. Who was she kidding? Superman had no competition.

Eduardo walked up to her desk and looked over her shoulder at the plans. “What’s this?”

“Cost Mart substructure plans. I found them…” She cut herself off. No need to spread her evil deeds around. “Never mind.”

He glanced at her knowingly, and then took another look at the plans. “This might be something, Lois. There are two full basements in these plans,” he told her.

“They need lots of room for excess merchandise?” Lois guessed.

“Look,” Eduardo said, pointing at what he was describing. “The loading docks line up to this first level basement. But this second basement is only accessed through this one passenger elevator.”

“Which means they don’t use the sub-basement for storage. What do you think is down there?” she asked him.

“How in the hell should I know? Cost Mart’s your story, Lane.” Eduardo shrugged.

“Thanks, Eduardo,” Lois called to his departing back as her phone rang. She picked it up and, still focused on the plans, said, “Lois Lane.”

“Lois!” she heard Perry’s voice whisper to her over the line.

“Perry!” she gasped. Jimmy walked by, and she caught his eye. “It’s Perry.” Back into the phone she asked her boss, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m a prisoner. Bill Church, Jr. has me. He’s head of Intergang,” he said.

“I knew it! I knew it!” She turned to Jimmy. “Bill Church is the head of Intergang. He’s holding Perry prisoner.”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Jimmy. “Ask him where he is.”

“Oh, right. Perry, where are you? Perry? Perry?” She set the phone back down. “We got disconnected.”

“At least we know he’s alive,” Jimmy reminded her.

“Yeah,” Lois agreed with him, her eyes drawn back to that sub-basement on the Cost Mart plans. For the moment.

***

Lois wasn’t sure how to get that sub-basement elevator door to open. Jimmying it with a paperclip took time and wasn’t working. The elevator door opened and there in front of her stood Perry with a couple of thugs behind him.

“Lois! Run, honey, run!” he barked.

She turned to run and one of Bill Church’s men cocked his gun and shouted, “Stay where you are!”

Lois froze and turned back to Perry, Bill Church Jr., and his two henchmen. Some heroine was she.

“Ms. Lane,” Bill Church, Jr. said with a sigh. “Your timing couldn’t have been worse.” He turned to the man Lois recognized as Gene Newtrich and asked, “Is there room for two in that landfill?”

Perry pushed his elbow into the henchman behind him and then karate chopped him on the back. With this distraction Lois tried to run again, but Gene followed her. Taking her boss’s example in stride, Lois used one of her martial arts moves to knock Gene in the neck, flooring him. As she turned to run off, Bill Church Jr. grabbed her, holding her against him at gunpoint. By this time, Perry had the other henchman’s gun and was pointing it at them.

“Nobody get excited and Ms. Lane might live to see another sunset,” Church told them, his gun pointing at Lois’ neck. “Perry, put the gun down. This gun has a delicate trigger mechanism, and I wouldn’t want it to go off accidentally.”

With a defeated shake of his head, Perry did as he was told.

“How about us?” said a voice behind them.

They all turned around to find Inspector Henderson and a couple of uniformed police officers standing behind them. Lois took the momentary diversion to punch Church in the gut and get him to drop the gun. After a small scuffle, the officers had the billionaire in custody.

Lois embraced her boss and then turned to the inspector. “How did you know we were here?”

“I got an anonymous tip from one Jimmy Olsen,” replied Henderson with a smirk. “He told me I might want to check out the sub-basement at Cost Mart, because otherwise Ms. Lane was going to make the MPD look bad again.”

The reporters laughed. “At least he did it anonymously,” Lois said with a wink to her boss.

***

Perry’s laughter caused Lois to peer into the Chief’s office. She saw Jimmy standing by her boss’s desk.

“Lois, get in here!” Perry called to her, waving her inside.

She walked up to the desk.

“I was just telling Jimmy how I stopped one of Church’s henchmen with a karate chop. You know, Elvis was into karate.”

“It was impressive,” Lois backed up Perry’s story.

“Almost as impressive, I’m sure, as your story, Chief,” said Jimmy, unfolding the paper revealing Perry’s story, Billionaire Church Revealed as Head of Intergang.

“Well, I haven’t had a byline in seventeen years,” Perry told them proudly. “It’s nice to know I still got the juice.”

“Nice to know that Mr. Stern’s not selling the paper,” Lois agreed with her boss.

“Oh, I think we’re safe for a while,” he told her.

Lois nodded and headed back to her desk, where she found a message from Dan, saying he wouldn’t be back in time for their date that night. She sighed. Guess she was spending another night celebrating with her old friends: Ben & Jerry.

As she started straightening up the papers on her desk, her mind began to wander.

“This is terrific follow-up,” Perry told Lois and Clark, reading their copy. “By the way, Kent, where were you when all this went down?”

“I went for help,” Clark replied, but Lois could hear the hurt in his voice at their boss’s implication.

“No criminal charges against Dr. Lane… oh, that’s great,” Perry continued reading, ignoring Clark’s response. “Oh, this is nice, Lex Luthor offered to testify as a character witness before the medical ethics board. Well, good for Lex,” said the Chief, turning to his reporters. “You know he carries a lot of weight in this community. Well, it looks like my instinct was right… you’re a great team. Circulation should hit the roof with this piece.”

“So, I guess that means we’re partners full-time now?” Lois asked, reading between his lines.

“No, no, no. Let’s not overdo a good thing. Only when the time is right,” said Perry, tapping his head. “And only on special stories.” Their boss tossed back their copy and headed for his office.

“What did he mean, ‘where was I?’” Clark asked her almost whining.

“You were looking for help,” Lois said, supporting him. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.” She headed towards her desk to grab her briefcase, but for once Clark didn’t follow.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, clearly moping. She could tell it had hurt his pride, what Perry had said.

“Clark, if it makes you feel any better, even Superman got there too late,” Lois told him, turning back to her desk. He still didn’t follow. “Are you coming? Or are you going to stay there and sulk?”

Clark tossed down his pencil, set his jaw in his palm, and pouted, glancing at her with puppy dog eyes. Did he want her sympathy? Please! She rolled her eyes, tsk-ed him, and walked away. She wasn’t going to beg, and she could do without a celebration dinner with a surly partner.

Lois sighed and went to pull on her coat. In her dreams, holding off on the story had allowed her father to get the goods on Menken. Her father didn’t get his medical license suspended. He didn’t need to go into witness protection, because Superman had caught all the cyborg boxers and they ended up in police custody.

It was weird though. Lex Luthor shot Max Menken both in reality and in her dreams. It had been because of that incident that she really started to care for the billionaire. She didn’t understand why Superman wasn’t the man to rescue her in her dreams. He had arrived, but only after Lex shot Menken. Sure, Superman was busy dealing with and catching the cyborg boxers at the time. Why were her dreams showing him in less than favorable light when they had never done so before? Superman was her hero. Shouldn’t he always be heroic?

Picking up her briefcase, she thought again how Menken had taken her at gunpoint into the alley. Lex had come out the back door of the Daily Planet building and Menken had turned his gun on Luthor. “You double-crossing…” he had said, before Lex had shot him.

A cold chill dripped down her spine. Lois hadn’t been in danger. The only gun pointed towards her at that moment was Lex’s.

Lex hadn’t saved her; he had shot Menken to shut him up. Why did Menken call Lex a “double-crossing” something or other? How had Lex double-crossed Menken? It didn’t make sense.

Had Lex been involved with the cyborg boxers? Lois knew that Lex had kept his fingers in many, numerous pies. How had Menken financed her father’s research? From where had the money come? Sure, he had money from boxing and his gyms, but that much? Was that why Lex volunteered to speak on her father’s behalf with the medical ethics board, before her father had gone into witness relocation? Or had he done that because of her?

She set down her briefcase. Lifting up the receiver of her phone she called MPD. “Inspector Henderson? Lois Lane. Is there any way I could take a look at the evidence in my father’s case? Menken’s gym and the cyborg boxers?… Yes, I know it’s closed, but something doesn’t feel right.” She rolled her eyes at his questioning her curiosity. “I was just wondering, where did Menken get the money to finance the surgeries?” She sat down in her chair and shrugged out of her coat.

***

“You know you should have discussed this with me before you took this on,” Clark told Lois, setting down his coffee on her desk. “I mean, we’re a team.”

Yeah. Sure. Right. That was what he meant. Men! “Sometimes players have to wait on the bench while other players run with the ball.”

“You’re in over your head in this one, Lois,” Clark replied.

Thanks for the vote of confidence there, partner. Lois picked up her coffee. “If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the story.” She took a sip of her coffee. It burned her tongue. That was strange. A minute ago her coffee had been cold. She shrugged it off. “Besides, I’m first and foremost a professional. And I would never do anything to compromise my personal safety or the integrity of my work.”

Jimmy walked up behind her with a suit bag in his hand. “Lois, this just came for you. The dry-cleaner said he had a terrible time with the… uh…” He unpacked the ‘outfit’ – a yellow leotard with bright yellow feathers around the neck and wrists, as well as a feather tail. “… the feathers.”

She grabbed her costume away from Jimmy but not before seeing the smirk across his and Clark’s face. Great. So much for her integrity.

***

Lois walked down the street outside the Daily Planet. There was music, balloons, and joy in the air. It was the Daily Planet Carnival for charity. She had been looking forward to this for months. Why didn’t she feel happy to actually be there? She was eating cotton candy, the best fair food available… well, next to caramel apples. She sighed. Was it because she was there alone? Or that her life felt empty for some reason?

Her dreams had progressed to her time at the Metro Club. Instead of backing her up at the office, Clark had invaded her undercover turf, because he felt she couldn’t handle the assignment on her own. What was with her subconscious anyway? She had handled the undercover work just fine on her own in real life. Why, suddenly, did subconscious think she had needed the backup of her partner?

“Step right up! Step right up, folks,” hollered Jimmy. “And have your futures told by Madam Blavatsky. She knows all, she sees all, and she tells all.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Jimmy’s sales pitch. “How much of my dollar is going to charity?” she asked him with mock suspicion.

“One hundred percent! One hundred pennies of your dollar will go to charity. See your destiny with Madam Blavatsky!”

Lois chuckled, taking a bite of cotton candy. “Okay, I’m sold.”

“Lois, is that you?” Perry asked hopefully, emerging from the tent dressed… well, dressed up as a carnie fortune-teller, a female one: dark wig, turban, and long red nails. “Honey, I cannot keep these fingernails on. How in thunder do you women…” He adjusted his falling boobs. “… put up with all of this is beyond me?” He grabbed a man passing on the street. “Come on…” He pulled the man into his tent. “Come on, Lois!”

A man with dark hair, glasses, and a flannel shirt passed by on the street. “Clark?” she murmured and automatically went to follow him.

Perry returned at that moment and took her shoulders, guiding her towards the tent. “Lois, I’m about to lose a customer,” he said, it his female Madam Blavatsky voice.

She nodded and entered the tent with him to fix his nails.

Less than a minute later she heard shouting, “Look out! Look out! I can’t hold this!”

Lois dropped Perry’s hand and stepped back out of the tent to see a man on a crane over the stage, teetering with a huge speaker. He was yelling for another man, playing guitar below him, to move. The other man couldn’t hear him due to his headphones.

It’s too dangerous, Lois could hear Clark tell her.

A sudden chill gripped her. “Clark?” she whispered, looking around. Why had she heard his voice? It must have been in her mind. Clark didn’t exist, she reminded herself, and yet, she found herself looking to the sky and hoping to see a flash of blue and red from another man whom she didn’t expect to see either. “Superman,” she said aloud, but her call went unheeded in the din.

“Hi, Lois,” said Dan, suddenly appearing out of the crowd with a grin. “You call?”

“Look out below! Get out of the way,” the man holding the speaker hollered, but the guitarist continued to ignore him. “I can’t hold it! Look out below!”

Lois gasped and turned into Dan’s chest as the speaker fell and flattened the guitarist.

“Great shades of Elvis!” Perry shouted, pulling off his wig. “Somebody call the EMTs! Come on, Scardino, Olsen, and you there…” Their boss pointed to a burly man, waving him to follow. “Let’s see if we can move that speaker off that man!”

There was a blonde woman standing at the side of the stage and screaming, “Calvin?!”

Lois just stared at the scene unfolding in front of her as Dan went with Perry and the others.

Superman hadn’t come. He didn’t exist. Why couldn’t he exist?

***

Chapter Six

Clark was dressed in a navy sailor’s coat and distinctive ‘man of the docks’ appearance. He was even sporting a mustache and goatee and different glasses. This was his disguise?! Please. If Lois could see straight through it…

“I came to see the show,” was his lame excuse.

“You will ruin everything,” Lois said, pacing her small dressing room.

“It looks like you’re really close to the story,” he retorted, heavy with sarcasm.

“I am. For your information, I spent the entire afternoon with the leader of the Metros, in his inner sanctum…” Okay, she had been serving drinks and trying not to get her butt pinched, but still…

“Wearing this?” Clark asked softly, touching the yellow feathers around the neck of her chicken costume. She slapped his hand away.

“And who are you supposed to be? Popeye the sailor man?” she retorted. If he was going to make fun of her costume…

“Five minutes,” the stage manager called from in the hall outside her dressing room. She rushed to the door and shut it, so no one would see her together with her partner.

“Go away,” she told Clark in a hissing whisper.

“I’m here to back you up,” he informed her.

“I don’t need back-up.”

“I think you do. I mean, how did you get so close to this guy anyway?” he asked, sounding distinctly jealous.

Great! Clark was the overprotective, jealous type. Just what she needed in a partner. If she made him think she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as he obviously believed her to be, maybe he would back off.

“He’s a man. I’m a woman. Do you want me to draw you a diagram?”

Whatever response was on Clark’s lips died, when the stage manager called to her again, “Places! That means you, sweet thing.”

“What did you find out so far?” he said instead.

“Johnny and his sister don’t actually see eye-to-eye. There’s some type of power struggle going on. Now, fly!” Lois told him, shooing him out of her dressing room.

“And miss your debut?” He chuckled. “I think I’ll stick around.”

“Clark, you will stick out like a sore thumb,” she warned him.

“Well, thanks for worrying, but…” Clark started.

He was interrupted by a knock on her door by the stage manager, “Let’s go!”

“I think you’re on…” Clark continued with a pinch of her cheek before leaving out the curtain. “Sweet thing.”

If Lois had time, she would wipe that smirk off his face with the floor, but she was wanted on stage, so it would have to wait. She shot his departing back one last growl before going to the mirror and removing her robe. She checked that her chicken’s head hat was on straight and her butt wasn’t showing too much out of the bottom of her leotard. Show time! God, sometimes she hated undercover work.

Dan caught up with Lois at a booth where she was knocking down milk bottles with a baseball. She was angry, angry at Dan for blowing her off, angry at Clark for thinking she wasn’t up for a little danger in her work, and angry at Superman for not existing in the real world.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at Dan without giving him the regard of looking at him when she spoke.

“Are you mad at me, Lois?” Dan asked as if it were a new experience with him.

Oh, please. Why in the world shouldn’t she be mad at him? He sent her flowers to break their lunch date. A box of chocolates arrived after his last minute phone call to cancel their dinner date. Chocolates! And then he showed up here, at the festival, without prior notification that he would be coming. Right. She should be ecstatic. She threw one last baseball and stormed off. “Yes, I’m mad at you.”

Dan grabbed her prize and followed after her. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you showed up here unannounced and just assumed I’d be free to see you,” she growled.

“You are, aren’t you?” he asked, handing her the crab-thingy prize she had just won.

Gee, thanks. Just what every woman wants to hear – her lack of a social life stated so baldly. “And because you think gifts solve everything!” Lois pressed her lips together, shaking her toy. “And you won’t talk to me about your work,” she said, getting to the crux of the matter.

“Hold on, Lois. You know that’s not personal. And I’m here because I want to be with you whenever I can,” he replied with his usual amount of Scardino charm. “It’s not some dumb guy thing, Lois. I’m a federal agent and you’re a reporter. Our professional loyalties conflict. Not to mention the fact that if you know too much about what I’m doing your life could be in danger.”

He didn’t just say that, did he? “Oh, so that’s what this is? You protecting the little woman?”

“Sometimes,” Dan admitted.

“I don’t need protecting,” Lois told him straight out.

“What do you need? What do you want, Lois?” he asked.

She threw up her hands and stomped off.

***

“What are you talking about?” Lois asked confused.

“Toni asked me to meet her at the club this afternoon,” Clark said, smiling nervously.

“For what?”

“Well, I’m a man. She’s a woman. Would you like me to draw you a diagram?” he retorted as his nervous smile turned beaming.

That line sounded familiar, Lois thought, pressing her lips together as she crossed her arms. He better not be implying that he would cross that line? He was her partner. Hers!

Perry came through the newsroom and passed by Lois’ desk. “Lois. How’s the…” Her boss paused as he took in her outfit. “… undercover work coming?”

“Fine, Chief…” Lois replied, lifting her raincoat up higher on her chest. “Fine… fine…”

“Well… I didn’t think you’d…” He chuckled with a glance at Clark. “… chicken out on me.”

Clark laughed with Perry as their boss walked off and Lois glared at her so-called partner. She owed him a good throw-down, but it would have to wait. She had a story to write.

***

Lois’ home phone rang.

“Hello, Lois,” said Bobby Bigmouth’s voice in her ear.

“Did you get what I was looking for?” she asked him.

“I don’t see any duck. I wanted Peking Duck, Lois,” he told her.

“They didn’t have duck. You have to order it in advance.” Lois rolled her eyes as she dried her pots and pans. Once a month, she cleaned all her kitchen items to get rid of the dust so no one would notice she really didn’t cook.

“Oooh. Slippery Shrimp! I love Slippery Shrimp. Mmmmm. Nirvana.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“It’s what you asked for. A code name. Project Nirvana. Hey, Lois,” Bobby continued. “Are you sure your boyfriend Scardino is with the DEA?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected.

“All right. All right. It’s a figure of speech,” replied Bobby with a chuckle. “According to what I’m hearing on the street, he’s not DEA. He’s FDA.”

“What?” Had Dan been lying to her?

“Food and Drug Administration, Lois,” Bobby explained. “He’s one of those guys who can say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to guys who want to market new drugs.”

“Well, you must have the wrong Scardino,” she responded. Dan better not be lying to her.

“All right. All right,” Bobby said between bites. “If you say so.”

“Well, what else did you get?” Lois asked, picking up some sticky-notes and a pencil.

“Project Nirvana has something to do with Intergang. I don’t know what, and I’m not sticking my neck in that noose and you didn’t hear it from me, and that’s all I know. And you know what else: we’re even.”

Whoa! Bobby Bigmouth was scared of Intergang? “Bobby. Bobby. Bobby!” she tried to interrupt.

“Great dumplings, Lois,” Bobby said before hanging up.

“Bobby?”

Terrific. He was gone.

***

“Lois, I had no choice. Now, Toni will stop looking for a leak.” Clark turned and picked up something from the other counter to finish making his tea. “At least my cover’s still safe.”

“Well, Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year!” Lois threw up her hands in mock joy.

“Sometimes on a team, the person carrying the ball gets hemmed in and she has to hand off to another member of the team, who’s in a better position to score,” he said with a pleasant smile. He really liked tossing her words back into her face, didn’t he? And what in the hell did he mean by ‘score’?

A knock at his front door interrupted that very question on her lips and they both looked at the door.

“You better go. She’s here,” he told her.

“Who? How do you know who it is?” she asked incredulously.

“Because I’m expecting a… dinner date,” he said. Then he clarified. “Toni.”

“Oh.” So that was how it was, was it? Was that with whom he was going to ‘score’? Lois ground her teeth together. Was that how he did his undercover work, did he? “I get it. You don’t have to draw me a diagram.”

Toni knocked at the front door again.

Clark crossed his arms and smiled at Lois with satisfaction. “You’re jealous.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Jealous? Are you out of your mind?” Lois scoffed. She wasn’t jealous! That was ridiculous. She was in love with Superman. Clark wasn’t even a blip on her radar. Please! Ha! Only… Only… Only…

He grabbed her shoulders. “You better hide, Lois. She can’t see you here.”

If he was going to blow her cover, maybe she should blow his! “I don’t want to hide!” She fought him as he pushed her into his bedroom.

“I’ll find some way to distract her and then you sneak out,” he suggested.

“No!” Lois continued to fight. “Ya!”

Clark held up a finger to her face in a warning to keep quiet.

Lois heard him go and open his front door as she simmered in his bedroom.

“Once again, I’m in your debt,” Toni told Clark. “I thought I’d pay you back with a home cooked meal. How does lasagna sound?”

“Delicious,” Clark responded.

Lois rolled her eyes. “Delicious!” she mouthed. Of course he would fall for a woman who could cook! Men! They were all alike. She heard the door shut and then their feet coming down the stairs.

“Nice place,” Toni said.

“It belongs to a friend of mine. He lets me stay here whenever I’m in Metropolis,” replied Clark, waving at Lois to stay hidden. She crossed her arms and glowered at the two of them.

Clark put his hands in his pockets and plied Toni with his charm. “You know you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” she told him, unpacking the bag of groceries she had brought with her.

“Do you always get what you want?” he asked.

“Not always. How about you?”

“Let’s see,” Clark said, turning Toni around, dipping her, and pressing a kiss to her lips.

The nerve of that man! Lois’ jaw dropped. He was supposed to have a crush on her! Then Clark waved for her to leave as he kissed Toni. Oh, so it was just a cover for Lois to escape. Yeah, right. Well, she knew when she wasn’t welcome, she thought and tiptoed out of the apartment. She stopped to take another glance at them and Clark, somehow knowing this, continued waving her out.

When she was at the door, Clark lifted Toni up from the dip.

Toni’s attention was glued on Clark. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

Lois rolled her eyes. Clark wasn’t that good of a kisser. Then she softly shut the door behind her.

Yeah, he was.

She sighed as she recalled the kiss they had shared on Trask’s airplane. She stood at Clark’s door for a moment and remembered that kiss again. How Clark’s lips had felt against hers. How she had felt in his arms. How safe and protected. How treasured he had made her feel. She pursed her lips again. Now, he was kissing Toni Taylor – the head of the Metros – with those lips! The jerk! Those were her lips!

No. That’s not what she meant, Lois told herself, marching down the steps back to her car. She wasn’t jealous of Toni. If she was jealous of Toni, it would mean that she had feelings for Clark… And she most certainly did not have feelings for Clark!

‘Okay,’ Lois admitted to herself as she sat down in the driver’s seat of her car. She did have feelings for Clark.

She had angry, mad, fists of fury feelings for her partner, but certainly not romantic feelings!

Lois sat up in bed, adrenaline rushing through her blood. “Oh, no. No. No. No.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and ran her fingers through her hair. She had totally wanted to switch places with Toni and be the one kissing Clark.

***

Lois handed Sarah a bowl of chocolate ice cream. “I just want one man, one whole man. Is that too much to ask for?” she said, starting to pace her living room. “And what do I have to choose from? I have one man who’s really wonderful, but he’s a figment of my imagination. I have one guy who’s really exciting to be with, but he won’t talk to me about his work. What do people talk about if they don’t talk about what they did all day? And one guy who is out of this world – literally.” She plopped herself down on the sofa next to Sarah and started to dig into her own bowl of ice cream.

“I thought you had given up the Superman fantasy,” Sarah replied.

“Well… my head has, but my heart is… uh… conflicted,” Lois snarled with tight fists.

“So it would seem,” replied Sarah, taking a bite of her ice cream.

“Could we just go over my options?” Lois suggested.

“One wonderful guy, who doesn’t exist. One exciting guy, who wants to control the conversation. And one superhero who is unattainable – literally. Oh, should I throw in the dead guy, too?”

Lois rolled her eyes. “No. I’ve given up on him.”

“I thought you said that his body was stolen from the morgue. Maybe he’ll come back to life,” Sarah suggested with an eerie tone to her voice, wiggling her fingers. “Ooooohhh.”

Lois raised her eyebrow and pressed her lips together. Like that would ever happen.

“Don’t look at me like that, Lois. It’s just as likely as you ending up with a man from your dreams, isn’t it?” the psychology student reminded her.

Sighing, Lois acknowledged nonverbally that once again Sarah was right.

“Or, it could be, that none of them is right for you,” Sarah recommended, thankfully getting back on topic.

“You know, you seem to have this new annoying little habit of repeating back to me everything I just said,” Lois told her.

“I just learned it. It’s called reflecting. Sometimes we can’t hear what we’re saying unless someone reflects it back,” Sarah replied, setting down her bowl of ice cream and holding up her hands to impersonate a mirror.

Lois gestured back to her in the same manner. “They make me really mad!”

Sarah chuckled, picking up her bowl again. “And what do you think you might want to do about that?”

Lois thought about that for a moment and then screamed in frustration.

***

There was a knock at her door. She approached it with her usual caution.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, sugar blossom,” said a strange voice. “Dan.”

Lois opened the door with annoyance.

“Hello, I’m doing a survey of women who resent having gifts sent to them. Please answer True or False,” said Dan, pretending he was taking notes. “Wrapping paper offends me?”

Lois refused to answer.

“Uh-huh. I’m psychologically unable to receive gifts?” he continued with a big silly grin.

Still no answer.

“Gifts are okay, I just can’t stand the guy sending them?”

“It’s not about the gifts, Dan,” Lois told him, walking away from the door. “It’s about trust.”

Dan sighed, his smile falling from his face, and followed her inside.

“It’s not just dangerous for you to know what I’m doing, Lois, it’s dangerous for me,” he told her, sitting down on her sofa.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Dan,” Lois said, entering the living room with a tray of food. “I’m saying, you don’t trust me.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Dan’s beeper, causing him to growl in frustration. “I… uh…” Dan started to say as Lois looked over his shoulder at his beeper, memorizing the number of the person who just paged him.

Lois covered up her snooping under the guise of handing him a cup of coffee.

“You’re looking for something that doesn’t exist,” he said, pocketing his beeper again. He sounded distinctly distracted as he continued speaking, “The perfect man. The perfect relationship. The perfect life.” He stood up. “Excuse me,” he told her, heading for her phone.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and smiled knowingly to herself. “Nirvana?”

“What?” he gasped.

“The perfect life,” she restated. “Nirvana. Utopia. Camelot. Eden.”

“Yeah. Those places don’t exist, Lois. The real world is what we have to deal with,” he stated, being more serious than she had ever seen him before.

The curtains behind him fluttered in the breeze, causing Lois to look past him and into the darkness.

Dan looked down at his beeper with a roll of his eyes. “Super.”

Lois imagined Superman landing at her window and being annoyed at finding Dan in Lois’ apartment. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips. Would Superman be jealous of Dan?

***

Lois picked up the phone at work and dialed the number she had seen on Dan’s beeper the night before.

A recorded voice answered. “You have reached the office of Charles Knox, president of Omnicorp. Please leave your name and number and the purpose of your call. Thank you for calling Omnicorp.” Beep.

She hung up with pressed lips. Looking around the office, she saw Jimmy and Perry absorbed in some sort of nature program. She got up and approached them.

“Jimmy, I need you do to some research. I need you to find out everything you can about Omnicorp and Charles Knox. He’s the president.”

“Okay,” Jimmy responded, his eyes never leaving the television.

“I’m going to meet a source,” Lois told them.

“Okay,” Perry replied in the same monotone voice as Jimmy. He also was completely absorbed in the TV.

She looked between the two men and shook her head.

***

Dan walked down a dark hallway, late at night. He was dressed uncharacteristically in a suit and tie. Lois almost didn’t recognize him. Even his hair had been combed and was under control. He walked past and then turned back to a bespectacled, balding man in an adjacent hallway.

Dan held out his hand to the man. “Hi, Charles Knox, right? Dan Scardino: FDA.” When the man ignored his hand, Dan pointed at the man’s briefcase. “Is that…eh… the money?”

The man lifted up the briefcase, unfastened the locks and opened it up so Dan could see the bundles of money inside. “Let’s talk dates,” the man said to him.

Dan’s natural silly personality slipped out. “We hardly know each other, but hell, if you’re paying…”

Mr. Knox pointed his finger in Dan’s face. “Go be Chuckles the Clown on your time. On my clock, shut your mouth.”

Dan took a deep breath.

“Now,” Knox continued. “We want FDA approval on the drug, and we want it by the first of the year, and we want it guaranteed.”

“You got it,” Dan agreed.

Knox set the briefcase down on the ground and left.

Dan rolled his eyes and picked up the briefcase. He turned and looked around the next corner of the hallway, before heading to the elevator. Had he heard her?

When she saw that Dan was alone, Lois made her move. She stepped up behind him and said, “So, this is what you didn’t want me to find out about?”

His eyes popped in surprise as the elevator dinged. Dan grabbed her arms and took her inside with him. Then he double-checked that no one saw them talking before the elevator doors shut.

“Lois,” he hissed, turning to her. “There are things going on that you can’t know about.”

“Really?” she replied, leaning against the wall of the elevator and glancing down at her notepad. “Like you posing as a corrupt FDA researcher and the man you just met with is the president of Omnicorp, who wants you to push through a new pain killer called Nirvana that the DEA thinks might have mind-altering effects?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m a reporter. A reporter! Remember?”

“Lois, I need you to stay out of this,” he insisted.

“So that’s why you won’t talk to me about your work? You don’t trust me,” she replied. “You think I’m going to print whatever I’m going to find out about this, don’t you?”

“Lois! Stay away from this,” he ordered.

“Excuse me?” Lois retorted, stepping out of the elevator.

“Stay…”

“What am I? A house pet?” she snapped as the elevator doors started to close on him.

He pushed his way out of the elevator, but not before the door shut on him and the briefcase.

“I want you to know I would never use someone close to me just to get a story. So, here, I want you to have these,” Lois said, throwing her notepad at him. “These are all my notes on your stupid case. Good luck!” She turned on her heel and marched out of the building.

***

“Hi,” said Clark, coming up behind Lois in the newsroom.

“Where have you been?” she asked, filing some paperwork. “I’ve already finished the story.”

“Well, save room for a sidebar on Toni Taylor. I’ve just been saying goodbye,” he told her with a slight shrug.

“A touching farewell, I suppose,” she replied, heavy with the sarcasm, as she walked back to her desk.

“She wasn’t all bad.”

“Well, nobody is all bad, Clark, or all good,” she explained to her naïve partner. “Except Superman.”

“Naturally.”

“Superman, for example, would not have tried to cut me out of the story by ratting on me to the opposing team. It’s a good thing I got myself back into the game and scored the winning touchdown,” she gloated, crossing her arms in pride.

“Well, sometimes, the quarterback has to fake a throw to his primary receiver in order to free up his secondary target,” responded Clark, obviously a lot better versed in football jargon than she had expected.

“I’m getting really tired of fumbling around with all these football metaphors.”

“Me, too,” he agreed. “I pass.”

“Let’s drop the ball, okay?”

“Okay.” He grinned. “But tell me, honestly…” Clark continued, leaning against her desk so their faces were less than a foot apart. “You weren’t the slightest bit jealous of me and Toni Taylor?”

Lois grinned. Oh, he was going to play that card, was he? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she denied. “Me, home alone, in a shlumpy robe, crying into a tub of Rocky Road.” Ha! Showed him! It had been plain chocolate, not Rocky Road. “In your dreams, Kent.” As she said these words, Lois felt herself narrow the space between them by half.

For some reason, he kept smiling, as if he were perfectly at peace within her personal space.

“In. Your. Dreams,” Lois repeated.

Lois pulled her Jeep Cherokee into her parking space under her apartment building. She sighed and leaned against her steering wheel. She had a real man interested in her for the first time in a year and all she could do was think about Clark… the man of her dreams.

***

Chapter Seven

Lois put on her full-length, pale-pink, silky nightgown with matching robe. She had bought it over a year ago after Lex had saved her from Menken. She had thought that maybe, someday, something might develop romantically between her and Lex and she wanted to be ready. Instead Lex had died before their relationship had ever made it that far, before she had ever let it get that far.

She wasn’t quite sure why she had put on the nightgown. It wasn’t as if she hoped Dan would show up and whisk her off her feet. She didn’t. Actually, Lois really didn’t want to see him after their fight earlier that night. So, for whom had she put on this outfit?

Lois took off the robe and climbed into bed, turning off the light. She tossed and she turned, unable to get comfortable.

Was she hoping that a superhero would show up at her window and take one look at her in this nightgown and… What? Nothing. She sighed. Superman had always been – would always be – a fantasy, that unattainable goal of perfection. She scoffed at herself. Nirvana.

Lois turned the light back on. Sleep was avoiding her. She looked at the telephone. She got out of bed and pulled a romance novel off her shelf: Where the Lost Aprils Are.

Lex was dead. He had died in her arms, professing a love for her that she had never returned. Sure, she had admired the man: his accomplishments, his connections, his generosity. Now, she was beginning to think she never really knew the man behind the façade.

She looked at her bedside telephone again, this time placing her hand on the receiver.

Dan. She didn’t know what to think of Dan Scardino. He obviously didn’t trust her. She knew that discretion was an essential part of his job, but if he thought she was the type of person to blab everything she heard from her ‘boyfriend’ on the front page the Daily Planet… well, he really didn’t know her at all.

Truth be told, the one person she wanted to call on the phone at this moment and talk to… wasn’t Dan. It was her best friend; not Mayson, but a man who didn’t have a telephone… well, not one that Lois could access any more than she could Mayson’s.

Lois climbed out of bed and got dressed in her black leggings, a tank top, and a navy flannel shirt she had used once on an undercover assignment. It reminded her of the flannel shirts Clark often wore on his days off.

She walked out of her building. It was late, and she knew it probably wasn’t the best time of night for a stroll, but she wasn’t doing herself any good lying in bed and not sleeping.

344 Clinton Street. It wasn’t that far away. Actually, from her dreams, she knew exactly where Clark lived; she hadn’t needed to do the drive-by she had done on her way home from her stake-out on Scardino earlier. She knew she had never walked down Clinton before, even though it was nearby, even if she did almost daily, or nightly, now in her dreams.

She needed to go and look at the apartment and prove to herself that it wasn’t the same place as from her dreams, prove to herself once and for all that Clark didn’t exist. He was a figment of her imagination. If she could do that, then she could move forward towards forgiving Dan for not trusting her.

It was a long walk because she had taken it slow, but Lois made it there in less time than she expected. She felt kind of silly – kind of nervous – as she stood on the sidewalk outside of his building. She knew she was at the right locale, although she recognized it more from her dreams than by the building number. Reluctantly, she climbed the steps. Higher and higher. She kept hoping that around the next bend, the next corner, the building would change and it would stop looking like Clark’s home.

Before she knew it, Lois was standing in front of his double front doors. It looked exactly the same. She swallowed. Here it was; the moment of truth.

Hanging from her wrist was a miniature flashlight. Either she beamed her flashlight into some stranger’s apartment, and they called the cops on her and she spent the night trying to figure out how to explain her way out of her actions without sounding insane, or her light would show Clark’s apartment: the apartment with the staircase just past the door down into the living room, where his couch, coffee table, and TV were.

She took a deep breath and let the light shine in. There were no curtains blocking her view into the dark apartment, because no one was living there. She could see the staircase down into what should be Clark’s living room, but it was covered in dust and debris. Piles of newspapers and paint cans littered the place. Lois took a step back, her hand up at her mouth.

It looked just as it had when she had barged inside that day she thought Clark had been meeting Superman. The apartment appeared to be in the same condition: abandoned because Clark didn’t exist to move into it. She switched off her flashlight and ran down the stairs.

***

As Lois approached her apartment she saw a familiar figure sitting on her front stoop.

“Hey,” said Dan.

“Hey,” she replied.

“I thought…”

She waved for him to stay seated as he started to stand. “Go on… Sit down.”

“I thought about what a jerk I was,” he told her.

She sat down next to him and rested her hand on his knee a moment. “Oh, Dan.”

“I thought given the size of my jerkiness, I thought maybe roses, maybe jewelry, maybe a Lear jet…”

“We both overreacted.”

“I didn’t bring you anything, Lois, because I don’t want to dazzle you. I just want to be with you, so can we…” He motioned towards the door with his head. “… talk?”

“Sure,” she replied, patting his knee and standing up. “Come on inside.”

***

Then next morning, early enough that Lois hadn’t gone to work yet, but late enough that the sun had already made its appearance, she was on the phone with her substitute therapist and friend, Sarah.

“So, basically, what you’re saying is…” Lois said to Sarah. “That all my life I’ve attracted men that are controlling or incomplete or downright liars because… because…” She was at a loss.

“Keep going,” Sarah encouraged her.

“Because I like being treated that way?” That couldn’t be right. “But if I like that kind of man, and I get that kind of man, why am I not happy?”

“We both know you like chocolate, right?” Sarah asked.

“Is it that obvious?” Lois mumbled.

“But you know it’s not good for you. The older and wiser we get, the less tolerance we have for something that’s not good for us,” Sarah told her, sounding older than her years.

Lois sighed in defeat. Please tell me, she thought, that Sarah doesn’t want me to give up chocolate, too?

“You’re not a victim, Lois. So, stop acting like one. You know who you are going to end up choosing. You’ve known it all along. There’s only one answer. The problem is accepting the fact that you’re scared; you’re scared of moving forward with your life, scared of moving closer to someone new, scared of letting go of the tight control you have over your life and your emotions enough to let someone in. So, you need to ask yourself, are you ready for that next step?”

“How come you never ask the simple questions?” Lois inquired.

“Hey, Lois, I would if I knew any easy answers,” Sarah replied.

***

Lois and Dan sat next to each other in the gallery of the courtroom, waiting for the trial of the Wilder women to start. The Wilder women were the doctor and her mother who had kidnapped Jimmy and Sarah, brainwashed them using the drug Tysian, and turned them into assassins. Perry, Jimmy, and Sarah sat on the other side of Lois.

Sarah leaned forward and looked encouragingly at Lois with a nod towards Dan. The reporter saw the DEA Agent intercept the glance. Fantastic. Dan reached over and took hold of Lois’ hand.

“Not now, Dan,” she whispered, moving her hand away. She didn’t want anything, anything, to distract that slimy lawyer, the one that the Wilder women had hired to defend them. “We need to talk afterwards.”

“Oh, great. The ‘we need to talk’ talk,” she heard Dan grumble to himself. He leaned back and spread out his arms – one of which went behind her back – and started bouncing the knee of his crossed legs, anxiously.

Sarah – who had still been leaning forward – caught this exchange and gave Lois a pointed nod. Lois gave a quick shake of her head.

A buff man sporting a grey business suit and a pony tail, sitting behind Scardino, stood up and walked out of the courthouse. Lois hardly noticed him, except that his exit caused her skin to form goose-bumps. Was she developing a Spidey-sense? Why had that man left? Why had he even been in the courtroom if he was going to leave during the opening arguments?

Do you smell something? Lois heard a serious male voice whisper in her ear.

“Superman?” she murmured. She hadn’t smelled anything, only now…

Dan turned his eyes to her. “Huh?”

“I smell something. Do you smell something burning?” Lois asked, leaning towards Dan.

“No,” he replied with a casual shake of his head before refocusing on the trial. Then he stopped. “Yes.”

“Smoke!” they both exclaimed at the same time and jumped to their feet.

Dan looked behind their bench. “Bomb!” He grabbed the smoking briefcase as people started running from the courtroom screaming.

Perry, Jimmy, and Sarah ran out the opposite end of the bench. Lois stood there stunned that it wasn’t her Spidey-sense that had warned her of the bomb, but her Super sense… Superman.

Dan ran into the center of the courtroom, set the bomb under the judge’s huge and now abandoned desk. Then he returned to Lois, pulling her down between the benches and covering her with his body just moments before the bomb exploded. The desk shattered, shooting pieces of wood throughout the room. Parts of the roof crumbled down upon them from the jolt.

When it was over, Dan shifted from his protective position over Lois and shook dust and debris off his back. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

Lois nodded.

“If I had to guess I’d say that was meant for me,” Dan said. “I better call in the lab guys.”

“Lois, honey?” Perry called, coming back into the courtroom and waving away the smoke to see.

“I’ll see you later,” Dan told her with a pat on her arm before heading out the exit.

Lois still didn’t speak, didn’t move other than to nod.

Superman. Superman had saved her life. Superman had saved the life of everyone. And he didn’t even exist.

***

Lois, she heard a male voice call her name. She turned and looked around the newsroom. There wasn’t anyone close by. That was strange. She resumed typing.

Jimmy walked by her desk. “Jimmy! Did you hear something?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“It sounded a little like my name. You didn’t say my name, did you?” she inquired.

“No.” Jimmy glanced around. There wasn’t anyone who appeared to be calling to her.

Lois, the voice repeated.

“There it is again.” She froze and looked around.

“Lois, I didn’t hear anything,” Jimmy told her and shook his head, walking off.

Lois.

“Clark,” Lois whispered, again searching for him, her blood rushing with anticipation. But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because he wasn’t real.

***

There was a knock on Lois’ apartment door. She opened it to find a copy of the Daily Planet with the headline Omnicorp’s Knox Arrested in big letters being held in front of her face.

“Congrats!” said Dan, lowering the newspaper to show Lois his beaming face.

“Dan.” Of course. Who else would it have been? “Come on in.”

He lowered the newspaper further to show that he had brought her a bouquet of flowers.

Lovely.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted as he walked inside, handing her the flowers.

Lois carried the flowers into the kitchen and pulled a vase out from a cabinet under her counter. “I wanted to…” she called to him. Then she noticed he was right there in the kitchen with her, not waiting in the living room, and she lowered her voice, “Thank you.”

Dan smiled at her and leaned against her counter, stealing a grape from a bowl of fruit she had been washing before he had knocked. “My pleasure. Just don’t make it a habit.”

Lois shrugged. It wasn’t a habit, per se. It was just her life. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, right. The ‘talk’.” He rolled his eyes. “Do I need to sit down?”

She set the vase of flowers on her counter. “I don’t know… but I want…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted. Actually, she was sure. She wanted Clark Kent, but Clark wasn’t real. He was a figment of her imagination, just as Superman was. Well, not quite as much as Superman. Superman was more on the fantasy end of her imagination. Dan was real. She needed to live in reality if she wanted to remain sane and not hear voices calling to her when nobody was there. Lois waved her hands through the air. “Kiss me!”

“What?” Dan choked on the latest grape that had entered his mouth.

“I want to move our relationship to the next level. I want you to kiss me,” Lois told him, standing up straighter. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips and waited… And waited. And waited.

“No,” Dan replied.

Lois winced. “Get out!” How dare he? He had been throwing himself at her for weeks now, only to suddenly withdraw?

“No,” he repeated. “Not like this.”

“You’ve been leading me on,” she snapped at him, marching to her door. She twisted all the locks but still could not get it open.

“No, Lois,” Dan repeated again and caressed her arm with his hand. “I’m not rejecting you. I just don’t want our first kiss to be forced.”

She still felt humiliated. “Forced?!” She just wanted to get it over with, so that they could move on.

He reached for her hand, and he took it in his, leading her to the couch. “I want our first kiss to be natural, memorable for how wonderful it will be, emotionally based, not fear based. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now, and I don’t want to ruin it by rushing into things.”

“Rushing?” she echoed.

“You’re not ready, and, as I told you before, I’m willing to wait until you are,” Dan whispered.

Lois leaned against his chest, relaxing as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Wait?” She didn’t want to wait. This kiss had been hanging in front of her all day like an omen, taunting her, growing bigger and heavier with its implication.

Dan kissed her forehead in the way Clark was apt to do when she was feeling bad and Lois melted further into his chest, wishing it felt like Clark’s chest. Wishing it was Clark’s chest.

It could be nice, she tried to convince herself. Dan really wasn’t a bad guy. He liked her. He was willing to work with her and accept her for the mess that she was. He was real.

She glanced up at him and he seemed blurry through her unshed tears. “Why is this so scary?” she asked him.

“Because you’ve been hurt before. Me, too. It’s scary for me as well, Lois. That’s why I want our first kiss to be perfect,” he murmured, brushing away the tear that crept down her cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want perfection, Dan. I just want to feel…” Protected? Safe? Trusted? Special? Cherished? Loved? Clark made her feel all those things. No. She just wanted to feel something. Anything. She had been numb too long.

“Come on.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Let’s go celebrate. Let me take you out for dinner. You hungry?”

Hungry? Possibly. Even her stomach was numb. She nodded.

“Do you like hot dogs?” he asked, pulling her to her feet.

Celebratory hot dog? Lois laughed, her mood instantly lighter. Sometimes Dan was too much, just the kind of too much she needed. “Yes, I like hot dogs,” she told him.

Dan had stopped moving, and Lois bumped into his chest. She glanced up at him to see why he had stopped and suddenly felt his hand on her cheek. His lips lightly graced hers in a simple, natural, everyday kiss.

It didn’t make her feel like a prized possession like Lex’s kiss had.

It didn’t make her feel like she was floating like Superman’s kiss.

It didn’t tug at her heart and soul like Clark’s kiss.

But it did make her feel something. She raised her hand up to his head to pull it back when he started to move away. He came back willingly for the second kiss, deepening it.

When he moved away again, she murmured, “Perfection.”

Not because it was the best kiss she had ever had. It certainly could not compare to the passion of kissing Superman when he was doused with Revenge nor to the love of Clark’s kiss when he left during the heat wave. But because it was just the kind of kiss she needed at that moment. It, at least, was real.

***

Lois walked into the newsroom the following Monday morning with a new outlook on life. She hadn’t had a single Superman / alternative life dream all weekend. She felt good, and it showed. It must have showed because as soon as she sat down at her desk she overheard a conversation between her boss and her photographer.

“Jimmy!”

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Who’s that at Lois’ desk?”

“Lois.”

“Nah. I know my top investigative reporter and that ain’t her. Sure, she has the general features of Lois, but it can’t be Lois. Lois doesn’t smile like that. Lois doesn’t glow.”

Jimmy finally got that the Chief was joshing with him. “Now that you mention it, Chief. There is something other-worldly about that woman. What do you think it might be?”

“She could be a clone.”

“Do you think she was brainwashed?”

“Possible, Jimmy. Possible.”

“Hypnotized?”

“Or maybe that toe-dragging boyfriend of hers finally got around to remembering that she’s a woman and that he’s a man.”

“Ya think, Chief?”

“Very funny, guys,” Lois interrupted, shooting them a nasty look.

Perry bounced his eyebrows at her. “So, Lois, you and Scardino have fun this weekend?”

She rolled her eyes. “No comment.”

“Oh, come on, Lois. What did you two do?” Jimmy needled her.

“Gentlemen, and I am using this term loosely, they do call it a private life because…” She coughed for emphasis. “Because it is meant to be private.”

“Oh, he definitely kissed her,” her boss said to Jimmy with a side-long glance.

“About time.”

The Chief raised his voice so that the whole newsroom could hear. “Lois Lane and Dan Scardino finally kissed. Who had this weekend in the pool?”

Lois plopped her head down on the desk. Just let this day be over.

Perry set a hand on her shoulder. “Lois, honey, just teasing you.” Then he lifted his hand and his voice, “Paulson, over to the courthouse. Church is having a pre-trial hearing this morning. Go see what’s up with that.”

“Yes, Chief,” called Paulson with a wave from across the room.

Jimmy slid into the chair next to Lois’ desk. “So?”

Lois raised her head and gave him a look that he didn’t need translated.

“Later, then. Gotcha,” Jimmy said, jumping to his feet.

With a sigh, Lois started to move papers around on her desk. The Wilder trial had been postponed while the bomb was being checked into to see if it was related or unrelated to the women or if it was targeted at an unnamed DEA agent, who had happened to be in the courtroom at the time. Omnicorp Knox arrest? Already written. Was there something else she could be working on? Was there something to distract her from memory of Dan’s lips on hers when he had kissed her goodnight the night before?

Too late, and the memory flooded her once more. She sighed. She recalled their first kiss and how she had compared it to her first kiss with Superman…

Her brow furrowed.

Superman had kissed her?

When had he?… She didn’t… he hadn’t… Revenge! Oh, God! She was remembering dreams she hadn’t even had. How was that possible? The Revenge outbreak had happened months after the Metro Club incident. Lois’ hands began to shake as she ran them through her hair. She closed her eyes and pictured again kissing Superman out on the tarmac after he had caught Miranda… after he, himself, had been dosed with Revenge.

“Lois Lane, I love you,” Superman told her, and it took every ounce of her willpower to stop from throwing herself into his arms.

“Oh, Superman, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” she gushed, enthralled not only by his words but their possible meaning. “Oh, but you’re not yourself. So, I couldn’t take advantage of the situation.” It was tempting, oh, too tempting, but if Clark could stop himself from benefiting from her infatuation, she could be as noble with Superman.

Superman nodded with understanding. He, like Clark, would not take advantage of her while under the influence of mind-altering drugs.

Unlike some other men. Lois grimaced, pushing out of her mind the thought of what had actually happened after the models had visited the Daily Planet. She returned her thoughts to her Superman fantasy.

“Oh, what the heck!” she exclaimed and pulled Superman’s face to hers.

He didn’t kiss her.

She kissed him!

Superman hadn’t stopped her from kissing him; in fact, he actively joined in on the kiss. She wrapped her arms around the Man of Steel, and he embraced her as well, dipping her and deepening the kiss.

It was the most divine kiss – if kisses could be described as divine – she had ever felt.

She and Superman had let themselves go, allowed the pleasure of the moment to carry them away.

Never had such a kiss thrown open the doors to Lois’ wanton side.

Never had Lois known she had a wanton side until she had kissed Superman.

He made her feel like a woman in a way no man ever had.

If Lex hadn’t pulled them apart, they might have floated into the sky from the pure joy of it.

Lois opened her eyes and exhaled. Oh, man, Superman could curl her toes with his kisses. If only he were a real man. She sighed with desire and with regret. She forced that fake kiss out of her mind, locking it into an inner cabinet to be explored again later when she was alone. As far as fantasies went, Superman took the cake, and he was welcome to eat it as well.

She went back to straightening her desk. She hadn’t been able to push all thoughts of that passionate kiss with the superhero out of her mind. She felt positively flushed. Dan certainly hadn’t made her that hot with his kisses.

Lois instantly felt chagrined by these thoughts. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that he couldn’t hold a candle to her fantasies. No man could.

Anyway, Dan’s kisses had been chaste in comparison. If she were going to judge his kisses properly, she should compare it apples to apples, instead of apples to… well, a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream, nuts, and cherry on top. If she were to compare Dan’s kisses with anyone, it really should be Clark.

Her brow furrowed again as she picked up a file and fanned herself. Kisses? Clark had only kissed her that one time in Trask’s plane, hadn’t he?

She closed her eyes and once again brought up her first kiss with Dan to the forefront of her mind. Let’s see, she had contrasted Dan’s kiss to Superman’s, but she had initially also measured it up to Lex and to Clark.

Lex was understandable. She had kissed him on several occasions, and even less passionately than the chaste kiss she had shared with Dan. So, between those two, Dan was the clear victor in the kissing department. Although, in Lex’s defense, their relationship hadn’t progressed far enough for their … she sighed. Actually, it had. But Lex had insisted on treating her like a prize porcelain vase with which he needed to treat with care.

Lex and Lois had dated, but she had never been able to fall in love with him or feel like they were in a relationship, because she never felt loved and desired by him. Treasured, yes. Respected, yes. He wanted her, yes. But desired? Not so much.

A woman wants to know that she affects a man, physically. She wants to know that she causes him to sometimes lose control just being around her. Lex had never lost control. Ever. Even when Miranda had sprayed him with Revenge, Lex had stayed in control. Perhaps he had loosened his grip on a string or two of that control and complimented her more specifically than usual, but that had been it.

Superman’s kiss had made her feel desired. In fact, Superman’s kiss had made her feel like the most desirable woman on Earth, in the universe. But, she reminded herself once more, Superman was just a fantasy, and if her fantasy couldn’t make her feel desired, no one could. Yet, Lex never had made her feel that way. Not once.

Unlike Clark. Lois winced. She didn’t want to think of Clark. Thinking of him always made her chest ache. True, a part of her had been happy not to see Clark in her dreams over the weekend. But another – a larger – part of her missed him.

If she were going to evaluate Dan’s kisses, it really should be against Clark’s – all three of them. Lois realized she was still fanning herself with the file and immediately stopped before she started the newsroom gossip mill to go into overdrive. Thank God, Cat wasn’t in yet. Why did thinking of kissing Clark make her hot all over? Oh, right. The second time he had kissed her had been when he had said goodbye during the heat wave.

That didn’t make sense, and she thought about that again. She hadn’t dreamed about that incident either. She dropped her head into her hands. What was wrong with her? She was having memories of imaginary men from her dreams and yet the memories were of dreams she couldn’t remember. The memories were there, somewhere in her head, but they were being elusive. Unless they popped up the forefront of her mind like that Superman kiss or – Lois gulped – or when Clark had kissed her goodbye.

She remembered that kiss like it had happened yesterday. It was the kiss that had made her start to see him as a man and not just her partner. Maybe she had dreamed about it, but hadn’t been woken up by the dream, so it had stayed in her subconscious. Clark had been going to leave Metropolis and head back to Smallville.

Smallville, Kansas. What a name! She shook her head, like there could ever… Lois gazed over at her computer.

No. It does not – could not – exist.

She pulled her keyboard in front of her and pulled up the Daily Planet’s atlas program. It took a few pages and even more clicks to get to a close-up of the state of Kansas.

The screen blurred in front of her. She blinked to clear the tears from her eyes as her heart thudded in anticipation. That couldn’t be right. Yet, there it was! Located between Wichita and Topeka.

Smallville.

Lois’ eyes went wide. How? She had never written a story on Kansas. She had never traveled through the state, never even gave the state a second thought until Clark Kent. She hadn’t even made it through the entire ‘Wizard of Oz’ book, and Lucy had been obsessed with ‘Little House on the Prairie’, not her. There was no logical reason why Lois would have ever looked at a map of Kansas. There was no reason she should have this information bouncing around in her head. Okay, Smallville might be a real place, but Clark Kent was certainly not real. End of story.

She cleared the screen and went back to cleaning her desk. She needed a distraction. She needed a story. She needed some fresh air. She needed a Double Fudge Crunch bar, a whole box of them. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out… nothing.

Darn! Her top box was empty. Lois picked up the box, flattened it, and tossed it into the recycle bin. There sitting on top of her second box of Double Fudge Crunch bars was a piece of notebook paper. She tossed it onto her desk and pulled out a candy bar. She would hit the gym tonight. Dan was out of town, so she could spend an extra hour on the Stairmaster.

Lois tore open the candy bar with her teeth, spit out the tab, and stuck the chocolaty goodness into her mouth. She sighed, finally relaxing as the smooth silky flavor filled her taste buds. She glanced down at the paper she had removed from her drawer.

Her hand fell from her mouth and what remained of her candy bar dropped to the floor.

At the top of the piece of notebook paper was written in her handwriting: Clark Kent is real. Research Tempus to rescue Clark from dying in the past. H. G. Wells will help you.

Lois’ hands began to shake and she pushed her chair as far away from her desk as she could. “No,” she told herself out loud. “It can’t be.” It must be a coincidence. It couldn’t possibly be the same guy. It couldn’t.

No. No. No. No,, she thought.

Clark Kent wasn’t real. He was her partner in her dreams. He wasn’t real.

Then why had she written herself a note, telling herself that he was real? A note she didn’t remember writing, despite it being in her handwriting. Her hand went to her mouth. Was Clark real? And if he was real… What did that mean about Superman?

No, she told herself. Even if Clark somehow had once existed in an alternative universe, there was no possible way that Superman was anything more than her fantasy. He was just too wonderful, too special, too perfect, too out of this world to ever have been real.

But what about Clark? His apartment existed. His hometown existed. Why didn’t he exist? She stood up and walked to her desk, leaning over to read the note without actually touching it.

… rescue Clark from dying in the past.

Tears formed in her eyes and she wiped them away. Clark died? In the past? Clark didn’t exist because he had died before he was supposed to? He was supposed to be here? At the Daily Planet? As her partner? But for some reason he died, stopping that event from ever happening? Was that what she was telling herself in the note?

No, that couldn’t possibly be right.

That was insane.

But then, how did she have these memories?

Clark was a figment of her imagination. Just like Superman. Well, okay, not like Superman. Actually, he was the opposite of Superman in many ways, but imaginary just the same.

Lois nodded to herself and went to retrieve her chair. Back at her desk, she wadded up the piece of notebook paper and held it over her trashcan.

But…

What if he were real?

Her heart started to beat a rhythm she had only felt since Clark had kissed her lips and told her goodbye.

She loved Clark. She might not admit it to herself in her dreams, but she loved him. If he were real…

Lois flattened the notebook paper on her desk and tried to press out all the wrinkles.

If there were a way to save him… to make it so he did exist…

Eduardo walked by and Lois flagged him down, glancing again at that strange note she had pulled from her desk drawer. “Hey, Eduardo, you ever heard of someone named ‘Tempus’?”

Her colleague shook his head. “Tempus isn’t a ‘who’, Lane, but a what.”

“A what?” she repeated.

“Tempus means ‘time’ in Latin. Didn’t they teach you anything in school?” he told her before continuing on his way.

“Apparently not,” she snapped back. Like Latin was something she would ever need in 1995 Metropolis.

“Research ‘time’…” Lois murmured to herself as she reread the note. “…to save Clark?” How did one research ‘time’? What had she been thinking when she had wrote that? Why didn’t she have a recollection of writing the note?

Lois focused again on the line Clark Kent is real. Oh, if that were true? Research Tempus to rescue Clark from dying in the past. Clark was real, but he had died in the past? How had he died? How could he have died in the past? Researching time would save Clark? And how could researching time save someone who had already died? Why would she phrase “time” as “Tempus” if she didn’t know that Tempus meant time? And why in the world would a dead science fiction author – not to mention how? – help her save Clark?

Okay, she would pass on the “Tempus” and “H.G. Wells” references for now and instead look at the rest of the note. The handwriting wasn’t all that clear; it certainly wasn’t hers either. She pressed her lips together. She pulled open a different desk drawer and removed her magnifying glass, hoping she might be able to read the note more easily if the letters were larger.

After studying the note a while longer, she came to realize several things. First off, the characters on the right side of the note were numbers.

Secondly, the person who had written the original note was of European origin. She recognized the tail at the top on the number ‘one’ as well as the lowercase ‘g’ appearance of the number ‘nine’. Not to mention, the ‘zero’ with the line through it and the seven that looked more like a backwards capital ‘F’. Claude used to write his numbers like that. Whoever wrote this note was from Europe. Americans weren’t taught to write like that.

Thirdly, the numbers were cased together in groups of four numbers: xxxx – xxxx. Was it a phone number? No, phone numbers had seven not eight digits to them.

Fourthly, and perhaps not lastly, some of the words on the left hand side of the note were possibly names. Jamesison? Thurtonian? Marianna? People’s names? Place names? Ship names?

Lois sighed, rubbing her temples. She was not going to figure out a way to save Clark today; that was obvious.

She needed to get out, get some fresh air, and clear her head. What had Perry said? Church was having a pre-trial hearing? Yes, she would go to that.

***

Chapter Eight

“Mr. Church, are you bitter about your time in jail?” a reporter asked Bill Church, Jr. as he walked out of the courthouse.

Lois’ jaw dropped and her feet froze on the bottom step. What in the hell?

“No. No. I’m certainly not bitter,” answered Church. He spotted Lois on the edge of the group of reporters and made a beeline to her. “Ah! Lois Lane!”

“Don’t tell me you made bail?” she said, stunned.

“Bail?” Church chuckled with glee. “No. They’re dropping the charges.”

“What?!” she roared.

He winked at her. “All you need is a good lawyer,” he replied, pointing back at his resident Intergang crocodile. Bill Church, Jr. continued down the courthouse steps, talking to the swarm of reporters surrounding him. “Anyway, I’ve just signed to write a book about the whole experience; it’s called Why This is The Greatest Country on Earth.”

Lois rolled her eyes and shook her head. Here was another billionaire able to get away with kidnapping and attempted murder. Why was she surprised? Lex had…

Lex? Surely Lex hadn’t been like the Churches? Lex had been a good man, an honest businessman, a philanthropist. He wasn’t someone who would kidnap or murder…

Except he had.

Lex had killed Max Menken.

In cold blood.

Right in front of her.

Suddenly her thoughts gravitated to what Lex had said to her that night he had visited her apartment, following his discovery of her undercover work at the Metro Club.

“I only know that if I were a smart reporter looking for answers, looking for the source of all the problems in West River, I wouldn’t look any farther than Toni Taylor,” Lex had said.

Lois had taken him at his word and hadn’t looked any farther. Why had she done that? She never took anybody at his word, especially a man. Yet, Lex had always had a way of making her do just that by telling her what he had thought she should do. And she had followed his suggestions, like she had no brain cells of her own.

God, Lois said to herself as she shook her head, you’re blind when it comes to men.

After Toni had ended up in prison, the Riverside district had all been bought up by Lex – and at fire sale prices at that – and he had moved forward on his own redevelopment plans. Until his death.

Lois shook her head. It was at times like this, she wished Lex were alive, so she could ask him for the truth. But Lex was dead. A light bulb came on above her head, making her eyes pop. Lex may have been dead, but Toni Taylor was still very much alive. It was about time Lois paid Clark’s old flirt a visit.

***

The year inside had not been good to Toni Taylor. Gone was the casually confident woman who had coolly taken over the Metro Gang from her brother Johnny. The brother had been killed when the Toasters had come in to do some damage at the Metro Club. Lois and Toni themselves had barely made it out alive. Lois shook her head.

Johnny had survived in her dreams. Lois didn’t know how the addition of Clark Kent to the equation had changed things so drastically. Clark had told her that he had saved Toni in the fire, too, and that was why she had offered him a job as bartender. How had Clark had time to save both of the Taylors? Lois knew that Clark was wonderful, but did he have secret powers as well? Was he an ex-navy SEAL or something? He certainly had the body for it.

Lois pushed all thoughts of Clark out of her head. She wasn’t here to learn about Clark. She didn’t even want to think about Clark at the moment. She was here to learn about Lex Luthor, the real Lex Luthor.

She sat down at the table where the ex-head of the Metros sat. Toni’s well-coiffed hair had been cut short and there was a scar across her cheek which had been added since the last time Lois had seen the woman. Toni’s eyes also had developed a hardness that Lois didn’t recognize.

“Well… Well… Well… If it isn’t the late, great Lola Dane,” Toni scoffed with a sneer at the reporter. Lois and Toni had never been friends, even without the addition of Clark Kent.

“Hi, Toni. I wanted to ask you about your relationship with Lex Luthor,” Lois said, getting down to business.

A slow curl of a smile came to Toni’s lips as she leaned back in her chair. “Ah… I was wondering when you were going to discover your idol was made of brass instead of gold.”

Lois swallowed the bitter taste that suddenly appeared in her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Toni chuckled. “I heard he was shot and died in your arms, dying trying to save you.” Her laughter became harder, more harsh, almost evil. “A bit anticlimactic for such a man, don’t you think? Ironic?”

“How?”

“Come on, Lola.” Even after learning Lois’ real name, the woman had refused to call Lois by it. “You wouldn’t be here if the scales hadn’t finally fallen from your eyes.” Toni had hit the nail on the head with that remark. “You want to know my relationship with Lex? Officially or unofficially?”

“Unofficially?” Lois echoed, a chill making the hairs on her arms stand-up. Then she remembered what Lex had told her. “Lex said that you had offered him a partnership of sorts.”

Toni shook her head with pity. “I didn’t offer Lex anything. I thought at the time I had been the one in charge but, the truth of the matter is, I was putty in that man’s hands. I had fallen into his carefully orchestrated trap. Lex got what he wanted out of our relationship and left me with the trash to be picked up.”

Lois pulled out her tape recorder. “Do you mind?” she asked, knowing this was probably a story she would learn more from on second hearing.

Toni shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like he can follow through on his threat from the grave, can he?”

The reporter turned on the tape recorder.

“I loved Johnny. It was Lex who convinced me that I’d do a better job at managing the Metros. He wanted to get rid of my brother as head of the Metro Gang. Johnny was running it into the ground by not moving with the times. Lex wanted to build a ‘Riverfront Redevelopment’ project on our turf. Johnny was giving him a hard time.” Toni rolled her eyes. “Johnny was really good at being a thorn in someone’s side if he wanted to be. Lex came into the Metro Club one night for a late pick-me-up…”

Lois’ brow furrowed in confusion. Pick-me-up? Lex wasn’t into drugs, was he? No. Not Mr. In-Control. “Do you mean a drink?”

Toni laughed heartily from her belly. “Oh, Lola, honey. Did you really think our waitresses dressed that way for tips alone?”

Lois’ shocked expression made Toni laugh harder. “What? You didn’t know you were being groomed to be a gentleman’s companion?” She smirked at Lois’ discomfort. “I wonder what little Miss Innocent Reporter would have done with a solicitation charge?”

The reporter took a deep breath. Toni wasn’t done with her story, and Lois desperately wanted to hear it. For now, she would discount the idea that she had actually gone undercover as a call-girl instead of waitress as pure payback for putting the woman in jail and not really true. “So, Lex Luthor came into the Metro Club…” Lois led Toni back to the topic at hand.

“And we hit it off. He invited me back to his penthouse for dinner later that week and discovered we had mutual interests in the West River. Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I’d come to his penthouse for a late night supper as we daydreamed about getting rid of Johnny and making the Metros go legit. Then one night Lex suggested we stop fantasizing and make it a reality. It was Lex who gave me the four prototype ‘Toaster’ guns. It had been developed and discarded by a division of Luthor Weapons a few years before.”

Luthor Weapons? Lois made a note on her pad. That – at least – was a fact she could double-check. Perry would want independent corroboration of Toni’s story.

“I had caught four guys trying to set fire to an old warehouse and hired them to torch West River,” Toni continued. “— but the whole plan had been Lex’s.”

“If that were true why haven’t you told this story before? Why didn’t you tell anyone about Lex’s involvement at the time of your arrest?” Lois responded, defending her old boyfriend.

“When he visited me while I was tied up at the torched garment warehouse, Lex insinuated that he could have me killed in prison if I said anything,” Toni explained with a shrug. “After he died I figured what was the point? Legally it doesn’t change anything – accusing a dead man of a crime.”

“Why tell me, then?” Lois asked warily.

Toni sighed. “Lex and I were seeing each other during the time he was also dating you. I should have been suspicious when he tossed you that rose.” She shook her head. “That’s how gentlemen used to choose companions at the club, by offering her a rose. If she accepted it, then it meant she accepted everything that came with it. If she didn’t, then the man would have to try elsewhere. It was Lex’s way of telling me that we were over and he had moved on to his next conquest.” Toni scoffed at herself.

Lois thought about that rose she had caught from Lex at the end of her song. Had he really expected her to bed him after that? Was that the real reason he had stopped by her apartment after her shift at the club?

“And I had thought he had done it so others in the club wouldn’t know we were lovers,” Toni finished.

Lois raised a brow. “Are you saying that you and Lex… had progressed past dinners?” This really shouldn’t shock Lois. Had she actually thought Lex had been as celibate as her during their relationship?

A sly grin crept to the corner of Toni’s mouth. “As you know, there was nobody quite like Lex between the sheets.”

Lois’ jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe that, at least not in a positive way. Lex had been so reserved, so cold. She then informed Ms. Taylor, “Lex and I hadn’t… we weren’t intimate.”

“But you and Lex dated for months,” Toni remarked.

“Yes,” Lois almost whispered as she looked away.

“Why would he bother with you?” Toni inquired. “What were you to him? You weren’t rich. You didn’t have anything he wanted.”

Lois pressed her lips together at the offending statement, refusing to dignify it with a response.

Toni studied Lois. “Good God! By not giving yourself to him, you presented a challenge to Lex, a puzzle for him to solve.”

“Excuse me!” Lois snapped. “Lex loved me!”

Toni raised a brow. “Lex Luthor didn’t know the meaning of the word. He used someone until he had gotten from them what he needed and then he discarded her like trash.”

“Really?” Lois took in this information with a grain of salt.

“Really. I’ve had the opportunity to speak with Miranda – you know that perfumer who created that Revenge drug – once or twice in here before she got killed. She had a similar experience with Lex.”

Lois gulped as Toni chuckled. She hadn’t heard of Miranda’s death and then made a mental note to look it up in the archives.

“You presented Lex with a problem: your goodness, your naiveté, your quest for justice, your dogged search for the truth. Could he form public opinion through you? Well, obviously he could. Could he make you turn against everything you held most dear? Would you hand your very soul to the devil without knowing it? Pity he died before ever finding out.”

“Lex was not the devil,” Lois said, getting more uncomfortable by the minute in this room as if the walls were closing in on her. “He never would have treated me like that!”

Toni sighed. “Why not? That’s how he treated me. That’s what he did to Miranda. And I bet an extra year in this hell hole that we weren’t the only ones.”

The guard entered the room. “Time.”

Lois grabbed her recorder and switched it off. “One last question,” she said, standing up. “Do you know a Charlie King or a Clark Kent?”

Toni shook her head and shrugged as the guard led her back to the door. “Should I have? Did they work for Lex?”

“No,” Lois replied, closing her notebook. “He doesn’t exist. Neither of them.”

***

“Lois!” Perry called as she returned to her desk after a detour to the Fudge Castle. “Honey, did you hear?”

Lois stared at the Chief with confusion. Hear what? Had she missed some big event because of her Toni Taylor interview. Looking at Perry with interest, she waited.

“Bill Church, Jr. They set him free on a technicality after that bastard kidnapped me!” Perry growled.

Oh, that. With a resigned sigh, Lois nodded. Old news. “I heard.”

Her boss raised a curious eye brow at her reaction… or lack thereof. “Doesn’t it make you want to do an exposé of the D.A.’s office?” he suggested lightly.

“Not really,” she replied honestly.

“Not really? Then pray-tell what are you working on that holds more interest to you?”

Lois continued to stare at Perry, unsure if she wanted to share her latest findings about Lex yet or if she wanted to wait for more concrete facts.

She remembered Toni’s accusations of Lex.

Lois felt as dead as the man who literally died in her arms. A man, whom, until recently, she thought she had known, but now knew had been using her. What was more humiliating was that others had known about Lex’s character and hadn’t told her. She lowered her gaze from the Chief without a word. Of course those who knew weren’t the type of people to confide in her in the first place.

“Lois, honey? Is something bothering you?” Perry asked softly. There was no fooling her boss.

Actually, after her interview she felt more raw than her usual hard-boiled self. Lois stood up without another word and brought her tape recorder into his office. She rewound the tape, hit play, and left as Perry re-entered. “I’m going to find Bobby,” she informed her boss.

If anyone knew Lex’s true nature, it was Bobby Bigmouth.

***

Lois stopped at her favorite Italian restaurant and bought a four-course meal. Then she sat in her Cherokee, waiting for Bobby to appear. She had left messages at all of his message spots. The food smelled heavy as her earlier ice cream sundae, with the works, upset her uneasy stomach. She needed to feed Bobby well if she wanted him to tell her all that she wanted to know.

Was this why Superman had come into her dreams? To show her the truth that she had been blind to before? Was Superman her subconscious’ way of telling her to review all of her interactions with Lex? That made sense. Her subconscious wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the information as it reviewed it, so it had concocted this superhero fantasy it knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. What she didn’t understand was how Clark had become tied into these memories.

“Lane! An appetizer and tiramisu? What have I done to deserve the royal treatment?” Bobby asked from her backseat, a cannelloni already dangling from his lips. As usual the man had entered her car without a sound.

“Bobby!” Lois gasped and then waited a moment for her voice to catch up. “Have I thanked you recently for not being evil?” Her hand clutched at her chest to calm her heart.

Bobby’s eyes closed suspiciously as he folded the food bags within his arms. “You called me to thank me?”

“No.”

He relaxed a bit. “Do you need more information on that boyfriend of yours? Dan?”

Dan? Lois thought blankly, having no idea about whom Bobby spoke for a moment. Oh, Scardino. Between Clark and Lex she had forgotten all about him. She placed a fake smile on her face. “No. As I’m sure you already know, Dan and I are fine.”

“I don’t doubt it. I heard the man finally kissed ya. About time,” Bobby replied, less nervous about her taking back the food she had brought him.

“Is anything that happens within my apartment walls actually private?” she snapped.

His lips curved upwards. “He also kissed you at the restaurant last night, Lois,” Bobby reminded her.

Oh, right. Lois decided to switch the channel back to the one she wanted to focus on. “What have you heard about Lex Luthor’s involvement with Max Menken, the Toasters, and Toni Taylor?”

Bobby took a forkful of pasta and studied her as he chewed – unusually silent. When he swallowed, he finally spoke, “A four-course meal for information over a year old about a dead man?” He sounded suspicious again.

“I hoped the more food, the more you would tell me,” she admitted. “I need to know.”

“There were rumors around the time that Luthor was shot that the Boss had also been killed,” he told her.

“The Boss? Bobby, why didn’t you tell me?” she inquired.

Bobby shrugged. “You never asked.”

Lois ground her teeth. “Tell me everything you know, Bobby. Did Lex lie to me?”

“Yes,” he stated baldly.

“Did Lex date other women while we were together?”

He stopped eating and gazed sadly at her. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you warn me? Why did you let him play me for a fool?” she sputtered, in disbelief. She had always thought of Bobby as… well, maybe not a friend, but at least a friendly source.

“You didn’t want to believe it.” He was digging back into his pasta.

“If you say ‘love is blind’ I’m taking the tiramisu back,” she warned him.

“No, not love. Ego. Your pride wouldn’t listen,” Bobby clarified. “You wanted to believe the line he fed you, Lane, because his attention made you feel important. If it’s any consolation that towards the end, his last few months, he had cut most of his ties with the other women.”

“He had?” Lois felt a little flicker of hope that she hadn’t been a complete sucker. That Lex had at least been honest at the end about loving her. Then she caught the disclaimer and her heart sunk. “Most?”

“Well, there was Mrs. Cox and the Japanese twins.” Bobby shrugged. “Perhaps they had been just employees…”

“Japanese twins?” Lois echoed.

“Yes, they were his live-in concubines. I heard he had them sterilized when he had hired them, so he could have his way with them whenever, wherever, and however he liked.” At her expression which must have been full of revulsion, he clarified, “Mind you, they were just rumors.”

“Can you get me their names?” she asked, her jaw muscle twitching. It was another lead. She had no desire to ever speak to Mrs. Cox. She had always hated the woman. She believed the feeling had been mutual.

“I’ll ask around,” Bobby replied hesitantly. “They didn’t speak English.”

Lois glowered at him, not wishing to be discouraged and also not wishing to discuss her deceased boyfriend’s sexual habits. Thank God she had decided to wait with Lex. “Did he have anything to do with Max Menken’s boxers and my dad?”

“Gee, Lane, I thought it was well known that Menken wore briefs,” Bobby retorted with a chuckle. Then he held up his hands in self-defense. “Sorry, it was too tempting. I had heard of the two of them meeting on several occasions. Apparently Menken was the middleman between Luthor Weapons Division and …” He paused as he gazed at Lois with sadness. “A doctor who was working on Luthor’s super soldier project.”

Lois forced the bile in her throat back down into her stomach. So, Luthor was behind the cyborgs her father was working on for Menken. The boxers must have been the test study. Was that why Luthor offered to go before the Medical Ethics Board on behalf of her father? He didn’t want to lose his Dr. Frankenstein? She was glad her father had turned state’s evidence at the end and ended up in Witness Protection. She only hoped it was enough to save him from Luthor’s grasp. Those cyborg boxers were still at large.

She realized that Bobby was oddly silent as he watched her. “You okay, Lane?” he asked between bites.

Lois waved away his concerns. “Tell me everything. Tell me about the women Lex used to get what he wanted.” She wanted to hear about everyone, but she would start with the painful stuff first.

A half smile appeared at the corner of Bobby’s mouth. “This is starting to sound like more than a one meal meeting.”

Terrific.

***

Antoinette Baines. Miranda. Toni Taylor. Lena Harrison. Mrs. Cox. The Japanese concubines. Gretchen Kelly, MD. Diana Stride. Claudette Wilder. Amber Lake. Lisa Rockford. Lois Lane. And those were just some of the women Lex Luthor’s name had been linked with during the few years before his death. The ones that Lois had recognized. Lex had also screwed over lots of men. Lois didn’t think quite as literally, but who knew? This Lex Luthor was a complete stranger to her, so perhaps.

Dr. Kelly had been Lex’s personal physician. Lois had met her after Lex’s death. Odd woman. Now the strange possessiveness the woman seemed to have over Lex’s body made more sense, if she had known him intimately. Lois shivered in disgust. She had always wondered if the good lady doctor had been involved when Lex’s body went missing from the morgue. Not enough interest to check it out, just a stray thought. It still wasn’t something she really wanted to check into.

Lois finally opened the last lock on her front door and went inside her apartment. She closed and locked the door before heading directly into her bedroom. She pulled out that pink nightgown and robe set and threw them into the trash. Even though she had never worn them with Lex – thanking God every minute of every day for that! – she doubted she would ever be able to put them on again without vomiting.

She peeled off her clothes and stepped into a shower as hot as she could make it without scalding her skin. Lois scrubbed her entire body until her skin hurt. After drying her hair and getting dressed into sweats she had bought after Lex’s death, she went through all of her clothes, stacking them into three piles: worn while with Lex, never wore around Lex, and couldn’t remember. The first and third piles were going to be washed or dry-cleaned again. The dress she had been wearing when they had first kissed would die a fiery death. Luckily, her clothes from hostage night at the Daily Planet were “evidence” and already out of her reach. She hoped they had met a similar end.

Lois had hired professional cleaners – or actually Perry had hired them for her – after Jimmy had attacked her, so her apartment surfaces had already been industrially cleaned. She now removed fabric cleaner from under her kitchen sink and went to scrub down every seat, sofa, and chair Lex had touched in her apartment while they had dated. She knew she was being paranoid, especially after all this time, but she knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable in her apartment until it was done.

She had done the same thing to her rug after the pheromone incident. Then she had rearranged her furniture to remind her less of that night.

When every piece of fabric seating had been cleaned, Lois went into the bathroom and threw up the bile that had been sitting in her stomach all day. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

She wished that Clark were there to hold her, take care of her, to tell her it was over, and her life could only get better now that Lex was gone. Only Clark wasn’t there. He’d never be there.

Lois leaned against the wall next to her toilet, pulled her knees to her chest, and let out the tears she had been holding in since she had come across that note this morning. She missed Clark with every fiber of her being, which was crazy because she had never actually met Clark. He didn’t exist. How was her life supposed to get better without him?

***

Chapter Nine

Lois sat at her desk in the bullpen. She just sat there. She didn’t currently have an active story, well, unless one counted following around the Church Group’s police state forces at all hours of the day and night.

What was the point of sleeping? When she closed her eyes she either had nightmares of Lex or fantasies of Superman or, worse yet, more dreams of what her life with Clark would have been like. Maybe she should consider those “dreams” nightmares as well. She had been avoiding her bed like the plague and just catching a few zzz’s here and there on the sly. Like while at the office, where it was too loud and distracting to fall into REM sleep.

She felt dead tired like a zombie and probably looked like one too. Everyone seemed to be avoiding her like one, three. She had actually made Wally run out of the office in tears an hour earlier, not that she minded or felt guilt about it; she hadn’t. He deserved it after bragging about his mayoral call-girl scandal article. She rolled her dry eyes. Like that wasn’t the same story he tried to push through while the Chief had been held hostage by Bill Church, Jr. a few weeks earlier. Same bad story. Same bad info. She shot it down before Perry could. Speaking of which, her boss wasn’t happy with her either.

Someone passed by her desk and dropped off some phone messages. They didn’t say “Hello”. They didn’t pass “Go”. They didn’t want to go straight to Lois Lane’s “Jail”. They swooped in like Superman and anonymously left the papers on her desk and disappeared again.

Lois choked back a sob. Just like Superman. She was hearing voices again, hearing them while she was awake: his and Clark’s. Not that she was ever fully awake or asleep lately, so technically it might be considered dream state.

Her eyes shifted down to the piece of paper. Dan called. Again. She wadded up the message and tossed it into the trash. She didn’t want to talk to him and hear his uber-happy voice hum in her ear, or hear the latest excuse he had for staying in DC. She could live without that.

A shadow darkened her desk as someone dared to lean against the partition that separated her from lesser reporters. “Have I done something to offend you?”

Lois glanced up and saw Dan gazing at her with a curious interest.

“Dan,” she stated, not having the energy to say or do more.

“I was getting worried about you, Lois. You weren’t returning my phone calls and, according to the florist, you put a cease and desist order on all flowers. Then I saw this…”

Dan tossed a copy of yesterday’s Daily Planet onto her desk. The headline: ‘Toni Taylor says Lex Luthor was Mastermind Behind the Toasters’ screamed up at her, causing her head to throb.

“Why didn’t you call?” he asked.

Lois raised her shoulders but couldn’t even complete the shrug.

Dan knelt down beside her desk, closer, more intimate. He took hold of her hand. “Lois?”

“What was there to say, Dan? The man whom I had admired and thought loved me, and who I had considered loving in return, had turned out to be a maniacal madman bent on stealing my soul.” Lois lifted her gaze to his. “What if you had discovered that Jena had actually been an undercover plant for Intergang? Would there be anything I could say or do to make you feel better?”

Dan’s expression changed to one she had never seen there before. Had she actually slapped him across the face? She couldn’t remember. He pulled her into his arms and held her. “I’m so sorry, Lois,” he whispered. His lips kissed her cheek. “You shouldn’t have been dealing with this alone.”

No! Her mind and body screamed.

Dan kissed her again, this time closer to her mouth.

Lois stiffened, recoiling from his unconditional love. This feeling was too foreign.

He caressed her wet cheek.

Why was her cheek wet? Oh, God! She was crying. No! Lois Lane does not break down and especially not in the newsroom.

Her hands went to his chest to push him away.

Dan moved his lips to hers and gently whispered a kiss onto her mouth.

Push! Her mind screamed. Her fists pulled instead and deepened the kiss as a sob escaped.

“What’s going on out here?” boomed Perry’s voice.

Yea! Her boss would rescue her from this man who was determined to make her feel something.

“Scardino!” Perry was growling now.

“Mr. White,” Dan replied, but refused to move away from her embrace.

“About time you showed up!”

Crap. Perry was in on it.

“Get her out of here. Take her to bed and keep her there for at least twelve hours!” the Chief ordered.

Lois’ head bobbed up.

What?! gasped a voice inside her head, which strangely sounded like Clark’s.

A smile crept to Dan’s lips. “Excuse me?” At least, she wasn’t the only one who heard that double entendre.

Perry actually had the audacity to blush. “Sleep. That woman needs it. You’re going to make sure she gets it. Use your weapon to keep her there, if you need to.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at her boss.

Lois decided it was best if she just buried her head in the DEA agent’s chest and died now. That was when she heard the titters around the office. Wonderful. Everyone had heard what she had.

“Your gun!” Perry clarified with a wave of his arm to silence the room. “And the rest of you, this is the Daily Planet, not the Dirt Digger Weekly! Get your minds out the gutter!” He returned to his office and slammed his door shut.

“You heard the man, Lois. I’m to take you to bed,” Dan said, expressing with his smiling eyes that he seemed to like that idea very much indeed.

“Fine!” she retorted angrily, pulling her briefcase out from under her desk. “Let’s go!”

“What?” Dan gulped with surprise.

“You want to get me to bed. Fine.” She glowered at him before storming to the elevators. “Be careful what you wish for, buster.” Lois pressed the elevator button three times while she waited for Dan to catch up. She turned and looked over her shoulder, wondering where he was.

Jimmy was shaking Dan’s hand and gazing at him with sympathy.

The elevator doors opened and Lois called to her occasional boyfriend, “You don’t get your butt up here now, buster, and I’m going to start without you.”

Dan jumped and rushed to the elevators, making it inside just before they closed to the cheers of her office. “We don’t have…”

“Damn straight, you’re not going to get any of this!” Lois let him know as she gestured to her body.

Dan sighed.

Another man echoed with a sigh of relief, a man who wasn’t in the elevator with them.

“I certainly am not going to bed,” she called out to Clark, waving her fist in the air. How dare he tell her with whom she could and couldn’t have relations! If she wanted to have sex with Dan, she would.

Please, Lois, you’re exhausted, Clark whispered in her ear. You need to sleep. I’ll be there with you.

Lois winced at his words. Her shoulders slumped. She missed him too.

“Where are we going then, Lois?” Dan asked uncomfortably from beside her.

The last place she wanted to go was her own apartment. Even after all her cleaning, she could still picture Lex there. “Your place.” Her brow furrowed as she realized she didn’t know where that was. “Where do you stay when you’re in Metropolis, Dan?”

He smiled weakly and shrugged an embarrassed shoulder.

***

Clark, Lois, and his parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent, were all laughing when they walked into the Kent farmhouse. Jonathan carried the suitcases and Martha held a bag of corn from the festival.

Martha exhaled. “It’s just an old farmhouse, but it’s home,” she explained to Lois, as she stood next to a modern type painting.

Lois stared at the painting wondering what it was.

Martha noticed her gaze. “Oh, it’s my latest. What do you think?”

Lois still was at a loss on what to say about the painting. She never had been one for art, but she was determined to make up for her mess-up earlier with Jonathan, when she accused him of being a closeted cross-dresser, by being overly enthusiastic, even if it wasn’t exactly how she felt. “I like it.”

Martha grinned encouragingly at her.

“What is it?” Lois caved.

Clark’s mother looked at her as if it were obvious. “It’s a bowl of fruit.”

It was?

Thankfully, Clark jumped to her rescue. “Mom, Lois and I need to receive a fax tomorrow.”

“A fax?” Martha said hesitantly.

“A facsimile. It’s a machine. A person can put a piece of paper in at one end and the person at the other end can get a copy if they have a fax machine too. It’s sort of technical,” Lois explained helpfully.

“Oh, I was just thinking that if you’re expecting something,” corrected Martha, uncovering her fax machine. “I should check the paper.”

Embarrassed, Lois started to ramble her excuse. “Uh… I didn’t mean… that I… I just… I… I… I … I don’t even have a fax machine.”

“Oh. Out here these days, you have to have one,” Martha told her.

Lois smiled with a sigh, determined to keep her mouth shut from that point onwards. She could see Jonathan, and hear her partner, pressing their lips together to keep the chuckles from escaping. Both men were failing miserably.

“Uh… Lois, you’ll be in Clark’s room. Clark, you’ll be on the couch,” Martha told them.

Lois was looking at Clark as he nodded his understanding.

“Unless you two are…?” Martha said suggestively.

Lois turned to look at Clark’s mother as her words sunk in. The reporter’s eyes bulged. “No! We’re not!” She chuckled with a roll of her eyes and then she repeated herself softly, “Ah. No. We’re not.” They were certainly not that kind of partners.

“Oh!” Martha nodded with an oopsy grin. She grabbed her husband’s arm as he was about to sit down and dragged him off to the kitchen. “Jonathan! Why don’t you help me?”

Jonathan was clearly at a loss as to why. “What?”

Finally Lois was alone with Clark. No, not finally! She exhaled. Only, finally, she could stop being on her best behavior.

“Not exactly what you had in mind, huh?”

Lois pressed her lips together skeptically. “Well, let’s see. So far I’ve been given a glimpse of ritual crop worship, treated as your girlfriend, and I insulted your parents. No, no, I couldn’t have planned this.” She shook her head in amazement.

Clark chuckled. “You’re having more fun than you want to admit.”

“Oh?”

“True. You had three hotdogs at the festival,” he reminded her.

“Well, that goes to show you how much you don’t know about me. I only eat like that when I’m miserable,” Lois told him. Like she would ever tell him the truth: that she ate like that all the time and then spent all her waking hours in the gym. She’d never tell him that! Nor would she tell him the truth: she liked Smallville. Everyone, including his parents, were so nice. Nice! Just like Clark. She hadn’t even heard his parents argue. Not once. It wasn’t normal.

“Oh,” he scoffed in disbelief.

“You boys go ahead and make up the couch,” Martha suggested as she and Jonathan came back into the living room. Jonathan was holding a pile of sheets and blankets for Clark’s ‘bed’. “I’ll show Lois to her room.” As they left the room, Martha asked her, “You aren’t allergic to down pillows, are you?”

Clark’s mom was just too wonderful and thoughtful for words. No wonder Clark was the way he was.

***

Lois awoke in bed. A warm body snuggled up behind her. For a moment, she reveled in the feeling, pretending it was Clark, yet knowing it was not. Unfortunately, a moment was as long as her conscience would allow her. It was a strange, unfamiliar bed.

Strange and unfamiliar mean the same thing, Lois, a voice whispered in her ear. Unless you meant strange as in odd.

She rolled her eyes. ~Clark, stop editorializing my thoughts.~

“Good morning,” Dan murmured, kissing her cheek. “This feels nice. Maybe next time we can try it with a bit less clothing.”

Lois was still fully dressed in her suit. Well, her shoes were off and her jacket, but she still wore her blouse and slacks. “Mmmmm,” she responded without making reservations. He was right. This did feel nice.

“You fell asleep on the couch while we were watching Lethal Weapon.” Dan pulled her closer to his chest. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“What time is it?” she asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes and attempting to sit up.

“You’ve only slept for nine hours. According to your boss, you need three more hours of bed time,” Dan informed her without actually being informative as he held her. “So, what’s your weapon of choice for me to keep you here? I have my preferences, of course…”

“Breakfast,” Lois replied quickly, before he suggested something a bit more intimate. “Room service?” Her mouth felt fuzzy from lack of cleaning. “Do you have any complimentary toothbrushes that came with your room?”

Dan pouted and gave her some puppy dog eyes that might have worked, if she hadn’t recently found out that the beau before him had been yet another in a long line of creeps.

“I’m not ready, Dan. You promised not to rush me,” she reminded him.

He nodded and loosened his grip. “I’m sorry, Lois. You’re absolutely right.” He sighed. “Can I just say, and that it’s no surprise to some of us here, that you happen to look fabulous in the morning?” he said, pouring on an abundance of Scardino charm into his smile which accompanied these words. It helped lighten the heaviness that had settled onto her chest when she thought he had been pressuring her a minute before.

I told you after our first night at the Lexor that you looked pretty decent, murmured Clark’s voice. Because you do. Nobody looks ‘fabulous’ first thing in the morning, Lois, case in point…

Lois focused on the man in bed with her and noticed he had a definite case of bed head as a lock of his longish hair stuck straight up in the back. She stifled an unintentional giggle behind a hand. Dan quickly patted his head.

“Thanks,” he muttered, turning to climb out of the other side of the bed.

“Wait!” Lois said, reaching out to touch his arm as she wished Clark’s words hadn’t made her react like that. Dan hadn’t deserved her laughter.

He stopped, glancing back at her.

Her hand moved up his arm to his cheek.

Dan leaned closer with hope in his eyes.

She ran her thumb over his cheek. “Thank you, Dan, for rescuing me from myself.”

A smile lit in his eyes. “Anytime.” He moved closer and she accepted the kiss he placed on her lips.

Her hand fell from his cheek to his neck before pulling him towards her. Dan relaxed against her shoulder, then against her side. She turned towards him so that their chests touched. Dan set his hand on the bed to steady them, so they wouldn’t fall. It worked for a few moments, then he reached up to use it to embrace her and they fell onto the bed, Dan on the bottom. The movement jarred their lips apart.

Lois stared down at him, speaking the words flowing through her mind, “That was nice.” It was clear to both of them her words were an understatement.

Dan’s smile broadened as his arms encircled her once more. “If you thought that was nice…” He rolled them over so that he was on top. He gazed into her eyes as his hand ran over her hair. “Lois,” he whispered, his lips about to descend on hers again.

Suddenly, Lois felt her heart beating way too fast; it had gone into panic mode. She wasn’t seeing Dan anymore, but Ralph. His slimy hands pinning her down – the first time in her life being unable to fight off her attacker – while his cigarette stained yellowed teeth pulled the buttons off her blouse, and his humid breath blowing against her chest…

She was unable to breathe. She pushed hard against his chest. “No!”

Dan nodded and pulled back. “Right.”

Lois followed his movements, sitting up. Air filled her lungs, but her blood still pounded in her ears. She knew Dan wasn’t the regular scum that she attracted. He wasn’t Ralph. Now that he wasn’t lying on top of her, her panic seemed unjustified. She knew Dan was a good man. He hadn’t been trying to assault her, no matter what it had felt like to her.

She rested her hand against his cheek again and he lifted his eyes to hers, searching for whatever had made her flinch. She needed to say something to fix this or she would lose the only decent man whom she had ever dated. “I like you, Dan. You aren’t like the guys I’ve dated in the past.”

“Psychopathic billionaires?” Dan threw out, a clear attempt at humor, and then grimaced at his mistake as she dropped her hand and stood up.

“Yeah. Like him,” Lois said, walking towards the bathroom. “And the other not-so-rich psychopaths I’ve dealt with.” She stepped into the bathroom, ready to close the door on yet another relationship. Something made her pause. What was she doing? She had just told herself that Dan was a good man, yet here she was pushing him away. He stopped when she said stop. He pulled her from the edge of her sanity. He was real. Alive. Here. Now. Not lost in time.

She opened the door and caught sight of Dan sitting on the bed, silently swearing at himself. She leaned against the doorframe, a smile dancing to her lips, and watched him until he noticed her.

“Was there…?” Dan asked, slightly embarrassed, unsure, and a little less like his cocky normal self.

“I like to drive,” she told him, hoping he would understand what she was saying. Something she had never told another man before. Something she had never trusted another man enough to tell him.

“Okay?” Dan was plainly lost with her analogy.

“I’m a terrible co-pilot…”

Wrong metaphor, Lois.

“Back seat… side car driver? Whatever!” She ran a hand through her hair and tried not to let that jealous voice inside her head that sounded like Clark talk her out of finishing what she wanted to say. “It’s a control mechanism. If I’m not steering… I tend to get nervous, panicky… more likely to slam on the brakes. Let me do the driving, and you’ll get where you want to go a hell of a lot faster.” Lois raised her brows, asking him if he understood, if he was okay with that.

Lois watched the confusion grow on his face until realization dawned. It seemed to take forever, but it was probably closer to seconds. He leaned back against the pillows, his hands resting behind his head, and beamed at her. “So, what you’re saying, is that you like to be on top?”

She returned his grin and added a wink to let him know he guessed correctly, before returning to the bathroom.

***

Lois and Dan walked hand-in-hand down her hall to her apartment. They had spent the morning talking, laughing, and having a leisurely breakfast in bed, then kissing some more. Dan had seemed to have gotten her message and hadn’t charged ahead, pulling her into the abyss.

“Well, that was nice,” Dan said, repeating her words from earlier. “We should do that again sometime. How does tonight sound?”

She smiled and pulled out her keys. “What do you have on the schedule today?”

Dan shrugged. “Grunt work, I could probably blow it off until later. Did you want to play hooky?”

Lois was about to say something about liking work when Clark’s words echoed in her memory bank. Haven’t you ever played hooky, Lois? It’s just, you know… fun. Being someplace, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing.

Suddenly, she realized Clark was right. She needed to try something new. “Hooky sounds like fun,” she whispered, leaning against Dan. “I’ve got to shower and change…”

“Showering sounds good,” Dan agreed, wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her.

A boost of adrenaline from knowing she was going to be doing something she shouldn’t, because she really should be working, rushed through her. Lois deepened the kiss and soon this embrace with Dan wasn’t just a kiss anymore; it was more. “Do you want to come in?” she asked huskily.

“Is that a trick question?” Dan murmured between kisses, his breath as ragged as hers.

Lois bit her bottom lip. “Only if you want it to be,” she replied naughtily, knowing her words could be taken more than one way.

“Lois,” Dan moaned, turning her doorknob and getting them out of the hall. They stumbled backwards into the living room, but never let go of one another.

Dan froze and pulled her closer, but not affectionately. He glanced nervously around the room. “Something’s not right. Wait here,” he told her.

Yeah, right, she agreed sarcastically.

“Lois, do you often leave your living room windows unlatched?” Dan asked, drawing out his gun.

She stared at her tall living room window off the fire escape. It was open a crack and a cool morning breeze tickled her neck. “Super…” Lois breathed his name.

“Or did you leave it open for me?” Dan interrupted as he shot her a mischievous grin.

True, Dan was known to come in – usually uninvited – through her living room windows, but she hadn’t left it open for him.

She hadn’t remembered leaving it open at all.

Maybe she had.

With her lack of sleep recently, she could see herself leaving her window open in case Superman all of sudden burst into reality and, realizing he couldn’t live without her, needed to see her. She didn’t recall doing that, but her memory wasn’t exactly without holes at the moment. “No, I don’t remember…”

Dan nodded, all business, as he held up his hand for her to wait where she was. He walked through her kitchen and then down the hall to her bedroom. Soon, he called to her, “Lois, do you have a grey exercise mat that you leave just outside your bathroom?”

Lois raised her lip with a confused scowl. “No,” she responded, pulling herself away from her windows and down to her bedroom.

Dan was kneeling down in front of said mat, looking at some wires. He glanced up at her. “It looks like someone has paid you a visit.”

She gulped, saying the first name that came to mind. “Joe Arlo.”

“Joe-the-Blow?” Dan repeated, standing up. “Yeah, this looks like his style. Any reason in particular he’d be after you?”

“I visited his hotel room yesterday morning. He was making something and had a Metropolis Museum of Art map in his toolbox. Perry and I thought he was in town for the ‘Church Group’ fundraiser at the museum this Saturday because Bill Church, Senior, has been buying up art left-and-right. The museum goes ka-plow and Church’s new investment suddenly becomes much more valuable than before,” Lois explained their theory.

Dan took a step towards her and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “It looks like someone thought you were getting too close.” He led her out of the bedroom and back into the living room. “Too bad. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to play hooky after all.”

Picturing Superman at her windows and seeing the bomb on her floor, made all her passion for Dan fly out the window.

Only Superman had never been there.

Lois felt something else towards Superman, a tingling feeling. There was something that reminded her of how she felt when she thought of Clark, something that wasn’t easily transferred to another man. Lois bit her lip as she walked to her living room windows, hoping, searching for a blur of blue, a flash of red, a golden ‘S’.

Dan dropped the phone and rushed to her side, moving her away from the windows. “Lois, someone is trying to kill you. Could you not make it easier for them, please?” He indicated that she should sit down on the sofa and picked up the phone again. He set it to his chest. “You’re not staying here alone tonight,” he ordered, putting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry. This is DEA Agent Scardino. I need a bomb squad over at Lois Lane’s apartment. The address… oh, you have it.”

Lois’ jaw tightened. She wasn’t, was she? It was her apartment. Her life. Her decision on who she’d share it with. She picked up her briefcase, pulled out her cell phone, and flipped it open. “Jimmy, I need you. My apartment. Now.” She closed her phone.

Soon, her apartment was crawling with MPD, the bomb squad, tech people dusting for fingerprints, and smirking inspectors. Okay, only one inspector, but that smirk was big enough for two. Only Henderson could make Lois feel like an idiot for doing her job well. Finally, Jimmy arrived.

“What’s up?” her photographer asked, glancing at the mob scene tramping through her stuff.

“Someone planted a bomb in my apartment. I need photos for my story,” Lois stated the obvious.

“Anyone we know?”

“Joe – the Blow – Arlo,” she replied, waving towards her bedroom.

Jimmy nodded with no surprise and went to worm his way through the police to the crime scene.

“What’s he doing here?” Dan asked, speaking to her for the first time since Henderson et al had arrived.

“Jimmy? He’s my partner and where I go, he goes,” Lois snapped, standing up. “Since I need a bodyguard, I choose him. At least, I can still get my job done.”

“Bodyguard?” Dan voice softened. “I was hoping for that job.” His Scardino smile slipped onto his face. “Your body is very important to me.”

“You’re busy,” she reminded him. “Jimmy will make sure nobody touches my body.”

Henderson chuckled nearby.

Dan’s head turned towards the police inspector. “Not that it is any of your business, Inspector, but Lois was talking to me.”

Lois rolled her eyes.

Henderson held up his hands in mock self-defense, adding, “You mean about you, Agent.”

She crossed her arms. Boys!

Dan returned his gaze to Lois for a moment, confused. He still didn’t get it that Henderson understood her better than he did. “Do you think it’s safe enough to pack some of Lois’ clothes for tonight?” he asked the police inspector.

Henderson craned his neck around Scardino to glance at Lois and his chuckles reappeared. “Probably not.”

“What’s that…?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dan,” Lois told him.

“See,” mumbled Henderson.

“What?” Dan disagreed with her. “You’re staying with me tonight and that’s final.”

“Ooooh.” Henderson editorialized from behind them again.

“Do you mind?” Dan retorted. “This is a private conversation.”

Henderson’s smirk was back. “First of all, no, it’s not; half the guys here heard it.” The titters around the room seconded that remark. “Secondly, I do mind. I enjoy watching Lois clean the floor with DEA Agents.” He shrugged. “But, hey, that’s just me. And thirdly, I’ve gotten… No, I can’t say it out loud or all bets are null and void.” He grinned at Lois’ scowl.

“I’ll take that bet,” called a man from across the room. “This one’s different, Henderson. He can take her.”

Scardino turned to look at the room full of men with disbelief before taking Lois’ arm and dragging her into the semi-private hall. “What in the hell was that about?”

“I’m not staying with you tonight, Dan,” Lois informed him in no uncertain terms. “Thank you for last night, but I’ve got things to do and people to investigate, which I can’t do if I’m sequestered.”

“Lois, you can’t be serious. Somebody is trying to kill you,” Dan’s tone had changed to patronizing.

“And this is different from every other day, how?”

Jimmy joined them in the hall. “All set,” he told her, completely unaware he had walked into a private conversation.

“Jimmy, Dan doesn’t want me to be alone tonight. Can you stay with me?” she asked her photographer without moving her focused gaze from Dan’s face.

“No prob, Lois. You’re the boss.” Jimmy shrugged. “I had nothing going on tonight anyway, in case you cared. Hey, now we can go to the Church art thing tomorrow together.”

“Sure,” Lois replied as she watched as realization slowly appeared in Dan’s eyes. She turned to Jimmy. “I’m driving.”

“Like there would be any other way,” Jimmy joked, heading down the hall.

“Lois,” Dan pleaded softly.

She had explained to him that very morning how important control was to her and the first chance he got, Dan tried to take it away.

“What? I’m playing by your rules. You didn’t want me to be alone tonight. I won’t be alone.” Lois raised a brow at Dan. “Give me a call if you want to date a grown woman, instead of a little girl who needs your protection.”

“Lo-is,” Dan groaned.

“And make sure the boys lock up when they leave. I’ve got a story to write,” Lois said with a flip of her wrist as she followed Jimmy down the hall. God, she hated it when Clark was right.

***

Chapter Ten

Lois brought Jimmy some blankets and set them next to him on the couch. “Sorry about the accommodations.”

“It’s okay, Lois. I’m used to sleeping on the couch,” Jimmy teased.

She wondered if he was referring to their weekend at the Lexor over a year before, when she had gotten the bed – both nights. Seniority had its perks.

Or the time he had crashed on her sofa after they had been exposed to Miranda’s Revenge perfume and Ralph had followed her home. Okay, true, she had been working the dock strike and hadn’t been sprayed. Actually, Jimmy had followed her home too, but she had allowed him to stay after Ralph had pushed his way into her apartment on some phony-baloney excuse, and Jimmy had to pull him off her. At least, Jimmy on pheromones wasn’t an acquaintance rape waiting to happen. Still, she had locked her bedroom door that night.

Or was he referring to the night after she had witnessed the murder by Mr. Make-Up, Sebastian Finn? Lois would have crashed at Jimmy’s place, but his cramped quarters made a frat house look quiet, cozy, and clean.

“Thanks, again, Jimmy. I appreciate it.” She decided after all the times he had helped her out, it was about time he heard some gratitude.

Jimmy leaned back against the couch and raised a brow. “So, why aren’t you letting Dan be your bodyguard?”

Usually what she liked about Jimmy was that he never probed too deep or asked her the hard questions. Lois pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. He went all over-protective on me…”

“You don’t want a boyfriend who worries about your safety? Especially after finding a bomb in your bedroom?”

Lois remembered how Clark snuck his way into her story at the Metro Club. She had hated him for it, but when push-came-to-Toaster, she had been glad he’d been there. “Well, when you put it that way…” She was beginning to wonder if she had made too big a deal of Dan’s overreaction. Great, she groaned inwardly to herself. Was she going to have to apologize to Dan?

“Don’t worry about it, Lois. Guys like Scardino enjoy the chase,” Jimmy reassured her.

Well, at least she wouldn’t have to practice saying… ugh… I’m sorry. She shivered.

Jimmy bent down and pulled out a magazine from his overnight bag. “Goodnight,” he said with a wave.

“Love Fortress, International?” Lois scoffed.

“Hey! I don’t comment on your reading material,” Jimmy said, offended. “Spencer Spencer is my man. There are some thoughtful hard-hitting stories in this magazine.”

Lois rolled her eyes. She had heard that argument before. “It’s a skin magazine, Jimmy, and I can’t believe you brought that into my home.”

He raised his hands in disbelief. “He takes on serious topics. I read it for the stories.”

“Sure you do. I bet a magazine like that is a front for who knows what… prostitution – at the very least,” she told him. “Come Monday morning, I’m going to do an all-out investigative dig on your ‘man’ Spencer Spencer and Love Fortress Corporation and see what pops up.”

Jimmy grinned. “You’re going undercover at the Love Fortress?”

Lois glowered at him. “Nobody knows where Spencer Spencer’s real Love Fortress is, but I bet I could… if it came up in my investigation. I meant find the place, not that I’d go undercover there as one of his floozies.” She shivered his disgust. “Been there, done that.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know you were signing up to be a call girl with the Metros when you went undercover at the club,” Jimmy said, ribbing her.

Lois went to closet, pulled down her spare pillow, and threw it at him – a perfect shot in the back of the head.

“Just stating the facts, there, Lois!” He laughed.

“Ha ha.” Lois marched to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

***

Standing outside the art museum, Lois held a complimentary glass of wine in her hand and tried to appear as just another guest at the show.

Last night after filing her story about the bomb in her apartment, she rewarded herself with a good night’s sleep. Mmmm. She had dreamed of that November when the heat wave had struck Metropolis – over a year ago. This time instead of pollution and global warming, the city government had blamed Superman for the rise in temperatures. She scoffed at the thought. Lois couldn’t believe that the people of Metropolis… that she had been so naïve to believe them – him, Lex Luthor. Not that she had, unlike other reporters.

Lois might as well add the nuclear plant’s leak to the list of Lex Luthor’s devious deeds that she had learned about since his untimely death. She shivered. She couldn’t believe she had liked him, had bought his lies. He had ended up being the worst liar of them all because he had made her feel like a blind fool, both professionally and as a woman. Good riddance.

She closed her eyes and thought again of the kiss Clark had given her – late at night in the office. She felt Clark cup her jaw in his hand. He leaned towards her and placed his warm lips on hers, no subterfuge, no undercover masquerades, but because he wanted to. He loved her. Her mouth opened slightly as she once more experienced Clark telling her goodbye as he could no longer live in the city that had kicked out its hero.

She had woken up that morning, crying and begging Clark not to leave, not to fade away in the morning’s light. But like in her dream, when the heat wave nightmare was over, Clark was still not there.

Jimmy had even heard her crying and knocked on her bedroom door to find out what was wrong. What could she tell him? She was dating a terrific, if not over-protective, man but she longed for someone else? Someone from her dreams? Someone whose voice whispered in her ear when he wasn’t there?

Dan appeared out of nowhere, dressed in a suit and tie for a change. Lois wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as he looked.

“Hi,” he said, full of boastful charm.

Oh, look, it’s Mel Gibson, Clark’s annoyed voice popped into her head.

“Hi,” she replied to Dan, ignoring Clark. After Jimmy’s rebuke the night before she had been feeling a bit guilty of her treatment of Dan. “Look, there’s something I have to say…”

He smiled. “Me, too.”

Lois couldn’t help but return his smile. He appeared to feel remorse for his patronizing behavior the day before. Maybe their relationship could withstand yet another bomb blast. Before she could say anything else, Perry moseyed up beside them.

“Bomb squad boys are in the museum, dressed as guards, doing a sweep. Be out here in a few minutes, so let’s get ready for an exclusive,” he murmured, setting his hand gently on her shoulder for a moment before he turned away from Lois, spotting someone across the patio. “Olsen! Where’s your camera, boy?” He marched off to yell more at her photographer.

Lois shook her head, taking another sip of her wine. “Anyway, I guess we should try and find the bomb, catch the bad guys, blah-blah-blah, so we can get out of here and talk.”

“Good plan,” Dan replied. “Except the whole part about you finding the bomb. Do you have a death wish or something?”

She pressed her lips together. Had this man heard a word she had said the previous morning in his hotel room? So much for full-disclosure. “How about you let me do my job and you do yours before I change my mind about what I had to say?”

Dan gave her a mock salute, then leaned close to whisper, “So, who here’s selling illegal drugs?”

Right. DEA. But it was too late, Dan had made her smile again. She leaned close to him and replied, “Anyone here with the last name ‘Church’.”

He grinned. “Ooooh. Are those pigs in a blanket?” he asked, scooting off to an hors d’oeuvres table.

She followed him. “It’s salmon pâté on a cracker.”

Dan shrugged and stuffed one in his mouth. That man had a cast iron stomach; no wonder he survived her rumaki.

“You should really try one of these,” he suggested, turning to Lois and accidentally knocking the sticky hor d’oeuvre against her white dress.

She brushed the crumbs off her dress. Her purse slid off her shoulder and landed with a thunk on the ground. As she picked up her purse, she inadvertently grabbed a bit of the tablecloth as well. There was something under the table. She scooted underneath for a closer look, realizing she had found the bomb. It looked big and nasty with lots of wires and a big container of boiling or bubbling who knew what.

“Lois?” Dan called. He must have realized she disappeared. Observant, that one. She reached out to pound on his shoe, when she heard Perry’s voice.

“You know, Scardino, I kind of took a private vow to steer clear of you two, but I can’t help myself…”

Lois rolled her eyes and smacked Dan’s shoe. He jumped. “Lois!” Dan glanced down at her and she waved. “Lane!” he continued, growling with annoyance. Oh great, had he thought she meant something else?

“Oh, come on, stop playing around here,” Perry snapped at him.

She pounded on Dan’s foot again and indicated that she found something under the table with both her eyes and a hand gesture.

“You’ve got to make up your mind on how to treat her and be consistent,” Perry went on, not having noticed her. Way to be observant there, Chief. “Now, go get her!” Lois’ boss nudged Dan, bumping him into the table.

“Lois!” Dan called panicked, bending down and lifting up the tablecloth.

“Lord, it’s worse than I thought,” mumbled the Chief, backing away from the table.

“Bomb!” Lois hissed, crawling out from under the table. “There’s only four minutes left on the clock.”

“Go! Get Perry and as many people as you can away from here, now,” ordered Dan. “Where are those bomb squad guys?”

“The guards!” Lois reminded him.

Dan nodded and ran to find a guard.

Lois turned to search for her boss and caught sight of Mindy Church, who looked at the table and then Lois standing next to it. Her eyes widened and then she backed up with a nasty glare of frustration at the reporter. Bingo! Thanks for the confession, Min.

The DEA Agent returned with a guard in time to catch sight of Lois tackling Mindy Church about fifteen feet from the hors d’oeuvres table with the bomb. He shook his head as he walked up to assist.

“Looks like somebody here knew about the bomb,” Lois informed him, sitting on top of the woman in the skin-tight pink dress that could have easily been pilfered from Cat Grant’s closet.

Dan grabbed the blonde out from under Lois and held tightly onto her arm, so she couldn’t run off. He used his other hand to help Lois to her feet. “You just don’t know how to run from danger, do you?”

Lois grinned and flipped up his tie. “It’s what you like about me.”

“Are you two a thing?” Mindy cooed in her baby voice. “You are! Not a happy thing, but still a thing.”

“Let’s go get something to eat, Mrs. Church,” Dan insisted, leading her towards the bomb. Mindy refused to be led forward. “That looks like a confession to me,” he said to Lois.

Lois agreed with a nod.

“Bomb’s defused!” announced a member of the bomb squad, coming out from under the table.

Mindy glowered at Lois as Dan passed the blonde to another guard. “This one confessed. Arrest her.”

“I most certainly did not!” retorted Mrs. Church, her baby voice suddenly gone.

Lois raised an eyebrow at Dan.

“How do you do that?” Dan inquired with amazement. “I bet if we dropped you in the middle of the Atlantic you would land on some lost mine from World War Two.”

Lois shrugged and wrapped her arms around Dan’s waist.

He grinned, lifted up her chin, and placed kiss after kiss on her lips.

***

Lois woke up and started to brush her teeth to find the water shut off. Great. What a way to start the day. Luckily, she still had that bottled water she had bought earlier in the week on a whim. She telephoned the landlady to find out about the pipes and was told her landlord, Mr. Tracewski, was already on the job, but that it would take several hours to fix. It looked like she would be showering in the locker-room again today. She had barely hung up the phone before someone had knocked at her door.

It better not be Clark, informing her that he sat on that bench across the street all night in the cold night air, watching her apartment. No matter how much Lois thought the world of her partner, that was just creepy. She was a witness, not a victim. Frankly, she really didn’t want Clark to see her in her schlumpy pajama shirt and boxer shorts. If it hadn’t been laundry day – some time earlier in the week – she wouldn’t have worn them. Especially knowing that if something had happened and Superman had needed to come into her apartment to rescue her the night before…

Oh, God! Why hadn’t she thought of that? What if it was Superman on the other side of the door checking up on her and he saw he like this? Clark was one thing, but Superman was something else entirely. She would definitely do laundry today. Only the water was out. Well, she’d certainly be purchasing herself a nice feminine set of pajamas or maybe something silkier…

“Oh!” Lois said to herself opening the door; it wasn’t Clark. Wow, Mr. Tracewski, putting the ‘super’ in super. She chuckled at her lame joke before letting the man in and heading into her kitchen. “Mr. Tracewski, your wife said it would be a couple of hours. As you can see the water is not exactly working. I’ve not been able to…” She turned back to her landlord and saw him walk stiffly into her apartment. She had never seen the man so rigid. “Mr. Tracewski, are you all right?”

Mr. Tracewski stepped towards her and wrapped his hands around her neck.

Thank God, her self-defense courses automatically kicked in. What happened next was kind of a blur. She fought her super super tooth-and-nail. Literately. She actually bit the man. Was that before or after she had kicked him in the jaw? Suddenly, Clark was there, talking to the man. Why was he talking to him? She wondered as the room went dark.

The next thing she could remember was that she was in Clark’s arms. He was on the floor, holding her, and she was coughing. Breathing, more gasping for air than breathing. But Clark was there. Clark was there. Clark was there.

Lois reached up as well as she could and wrapped her arms around him just to reassure herself.

“Clark,” she whispered, ‘was there.’

“Clark” had said he would protect her.

“Clark” had said someone wanted to kill her.

“Clark” had been right.

She felt Clark’s arms pull her tightly against his chest, and she felt safer than she had ever felt before.

Safer than if she had saved herself.

Safer than with any man she had ever met.

Safer than with Superman.

Lois never wanted to leave.

Her eyes opened into her dark bedroom. Lois knew without looking at that clock that it was still the middle of the night. “Clark,” she whispered, her voice sounding hoarse like Mr. Make-Up’s strangulation had just occurred. “He tried to kill me.”

I’ll find him, Clark said out of thin air or memory.

“No,” she told him, trying to pull the man, whose voice she kept hearing, back into her arms. All she caught was air. “Please, don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

Okay, I won’t, he replied. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m here.

Only Clark wasn’t there. She was all alone.

***

Lois pulled her lock picks out of her briefcase and started to work on the door. It was an old-fashioned lock so it took a little longer than she would have liked to get it open. Finally, she was able to turn the knob. She put the lock picks back into their little case, and the case back into her briefcase, before withdrawing her flashlight.

She knew better than to try the lights. First of all, she didn’t need to draw unwanted attention onto herself. Secondly, she figured that the power wasn’t turned on. She carefully maneuvered around the empty paint cans and the piles of newspapers to make it down the stairs.

It was Clark’s apartment all right. She could see the landing where he had put that little cart, the landing that overlooked his joint living room and kitchen. She could see the built-in bookcases – currently empty – where he would have kept all his books and mementos. She could see the brick archway that led into his bedroom.

Side-stepping around more piles of debris, she headed into that room. Shining the light around the room, she could see the spiral staircase leading up to his loft and the bank of windows looking out to his patio that faced a brick wall. She touched the brick archway, leaning against it, not exactly sure what she was looking for.

Lois had known with one hundred percent certainty that she wouldn’t find Clark here. She had known that before she had left her apartment. She hadn’t found him the other night when she had come. It was just an empty shell without Clark and yet, despite that, she felt closer to him here than she had at her apartment… than even at the newsroom where she must have spent more hours with him than anywhere else.

It was quiet here. It reminded her of him: his serenity, his kindness, and the fact that his door was always open to her, no matter what the reason or what the hour.

She walked through the area – as best she could – where Clark’s bed usually was located and through the other archway into the kitchen, circling back into the living room. There were a couple of tall stacks of newspapers near where Clark would have put his sofa. She sat down on the floor and leaned gently against one of the stacks, making sure not to send it toppling.

He really wasn’t there.

She rested her head on her knees and, although her entire being ached at his loss, she didn’t cry. She closed her eyes, thinking back over every memory dream she ever had about him. She relived every caress of her cheek.

Every time he had looked at her as if he could see deep into her soul.

Every smile.

Every laugh.

Everything.

***

Lois! Clark’s voice called to her out of the stillness.

She opened her eyes to his apartment. Oh, crap. She had fallen asleep. She understood by the fact that she could now see around the apartment that the light came from the windows not from her flashlight. She looked down at the object; her flashlight was out. Had she turned it out or had she left it on, letting the batteries die? Not really wanting to debate that question at the moment, she replaced it in her briefcase.

Lois stood up and brushed off the dust from her pants and coat before stretching and heading up the stairs to the front door. At the doorway, she heard voices outside and the sounds of people clomping up the stairs.

Her heart began to race. Were they coming here? Should she stay and hide? Or should she make a run for it?

Run!

Yeah, she was thinking the same thing. Swiftly, Lois went through the door and around the back corner – away from the staircase leading to Clark’s apartment – where she pressed herself up against the wall.

“I should have the key here,” a man was saying and Lois could hear him jingling keys.

“It’s already open,” a different man’s voice said and she winced. Hadn’t she shut the door?

“Open? Oh, I hope squatters haven’t moved in,” grumbled the first man’s voice again.

Lois took a chance and stole a glance around the edge of the building. Her heart, which had just started to calm down after making it around the corner, started pounding in her chest again.

The man with the keys was the same portly man she remembered seeing Clark with when she thought he had been meeting Superman. The. Same. Man. The landlord was real. He wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

“So, do you still want to see the place or not?” the portly man asked the younger man in the suit. “I did get up extra early to show it to you.”

Lois stole another glance around the corner to get a better glimpse of the new prospective tenant. Could it be Clark?

Sandy blond hair.

Not Clark.

‘He’s dead,’ she reminded herself. ‘Stop looking for him everywhere.’

The men walked into the apartment and Lois took this opportunity to run to the stairs and out of the building entirely.

***

Ten days later, Lois stood with a half dozen of her colleagues in front of the TV sets in the newsroom as LNN announced, “… and Love Fortress International had no response to this morning’s Daily Planet story. The paper reported the Love Fortress magazine and night club operation were little more than a cover-up for crime, including gambling, prostitution, and money laundering…”

Doesn’t LNN know that as a business – honest or otherwise – Love Fortress cannot ‘respond’ to…?

Perry’s voice spoke over the announcer’s and cut off Clark’s dig on LNN’s lack of grammatical correctness, “Well, you sure scooped that pretty boy!”

Lois turned around and smiled, basking in his pride. “Hi, Perry.”

“I just stopped by to congratulate you. This is a heck of a story,” he replied with a grin. Nobody could be happier whenever they scooped LNN, so she guessed Perry had a pretty good life.

Jimmy joined them, but his lips were pressed into a line. He wasn’t happy about her exclusive. “Yes, that is a heck of a story, Lois.” His words were the opposite of his tone.

“Jimmy, weren’t you assigned to this piece, too? I was kind of under the impression that you two were permanent partners,” Perry said with a wink.

“Well, we’re not permanent permanent partners yet, Chief,” Jimmy said, shooting daggers at Lois as they walked back to her desk.

“No, that would be a big step, Chief,” Lois agreed in a playful tone, trying to keep the self-satisfied grin off her lips.

“The kind of thing a person would have to think through,” Jimmy retorted with another laser sharp gaze at his partner before he caved. “Lois! I cannot believe the number you did on my man, here.” Jimmy groaned, tossing his latest copy of Love Fortress International onto her desk.

Perry picked up the magazine, chuckling. “Son, that’s a skin book.” That didn’t stop the Chief from flipping through it.

“Spencer Spencer takes on serious topics, Chief. I’ve read him so much, I feel like I know him,” Jimmy tried to sell his snake oil to their boss.

Perry continued laughing and Jimmy took back his magazine before the Chief walked off.

Lois rolled her eyes. Isn’t this where I walked into this conversation? she asked herself. “No one knows him, Jimmy, he hides out from everyone.”

“If I had the looks, the cars, the women he has, I’d hide out from everyone too,” her photographer retorted.

Saved from furthering this discussion, Lois answered her ringing telephone. “Yes?” She covered up the mouthpiece and whispered to Jimmy, “It’s Spencer Spencer.”

“Oh, my God! The man himself,” Jimmy replied reverently.

Lois hushed Jimmy before uncovering the receiver. She said, all business, “Hello?”

“Ms. Lane. Lois. Spencer Spencer here. Quite a colorful article you did on my little operation. I’d like to make you a proposal,” Spencer Spencer purred into the phone. “What would you say to meeting with one of my spokes models, and let’s give you an accurate picture of my world? I can make it worth your while.”

Luckily, Lois’ faux charm-detector went off immediately; with all her exposure to Scardino she knew the fake stuff when she heard it. “Mr. Spencer, I have an accurate picture of your world and a truly disgusting place it is. Read part two tomorrow.” She hung up.

“Lois!” Jimmy gasped.

“Mister Charm,” she muttered. “Probably sitting there in his legendary silk pajamas, drinking absinthe, girls massaging him…” She grimaced. “I’ve had enough exposure to that world, thank you.”

Jimmy threw up his hands and walked off.

Lois chuckled and saw Dan standing over by the vending machines. She wondered how long he had been there. He looked like he was fighting the machine for a soda. She got up and went to join him. “I know you think I’m not thinking about it. Just because I’m not talking about it, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it.”

Dan had dropped the bombshell on her after the art show the previous weekend that he was thinking about asking for a transfer to Metropolis office, so he could be closer to her. Before he made any decisions, he had wanted her opinion. She hadn’t said ‘yes’, but she hadn’t said ‘no’ either.

“Lois… relocating is a very big step. I said I’d wait and I will wait,” he said, finally extracting a soda from the machine. “— until you’re sure about us.”

“I’m glad you understand.” She sighed, stealing the rest of the coins out of his hand. He was finally starting to be aware of her control issues.

“Of course, if I was the paranoid type, I might think you’d been avoiding the whole thing,” Dan went on. Frankly, he still sounded pretty paranoid to her.

Lois set a hand on his chest and laughed. “Of course not! Avoid it? Of course I’m not trying to avoid it.” She plugged his money in and extracted a plastic cheese sandwich from the machine. “Did you ever notice how lousy the cheese sandwiches are in this machine?”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m just saying you can’t get a good cheese sandwich. I’d kill for a piece of Camembert, the really good kind from France. You notice it’s tough to get good Camembert outside of France?” she said, prying back the plastic wrap covering her sandwich.

“I’m so glad you’re not avoiding this whole thing,” Dan replied so sarcastically it dripped from every word. “Very, very happy about that.”

Lois didn’t know what was holding her back from moving forward with Dan, except… except that she was still having trouble sleeping. She was afraid to close her eyes and fall into her dream world.

The thought of moving forward with Dan seemed ridiculous if she figured out the clues on that piece of paper and could somehow save Clark. Saying “yes” to Dan felt like giving up on Clark, and she just wasn’t ready to do that yet.

Perry came by from the stairwell. “Oh, Lois. You busy?”

“No, no. I was just speaking with…” Lois said, turning towards Dan and noticing he was no longer there. When had her boyfriend wandered off? Or stormed off? She hadn’t noticed which, or when. “Nobody, apparently.” She shrugged and headed for her boss’s office.

As soon as they were in his office, he started in on her. He brought up the dark circles under her eyes. Between her Lex Luthor articles and the Churches trying to blow her up numerous times, and now her latest in-depth article on Spencer Spencer, he was worried about her health.

“Perry, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m not working too hard,” Lois reassured him. “Can I go back to work now?”

“Now, Lois, I read you like a book. Things get a little rough in your life, you wrap yourself up in your work…” Perry said as he closed the office door. “ – like it was going to save you.”

“Look, Chief, I’ve got to draw the line here,” she said, putting her foot down on his interference. “I have a professional life and I have a personal life, and Dan wants to move to Metropolis to be closer to me.” Tears came to her eyes out of nowhere. Oh, God! Why was she bringing this up to Perry?

“Lois, don’t you think you ought to try dating first?”

“Well, you see…” I’m in love with a man from my dreams. “I really like Dan…”

“Then there’s no problem,” Perry replied as if the matter were solved.

Lois looked at her boss as if he were crazy. “Yes, there is Perry!” I like Dan, but I love Clark. On the other hand, Clark’s not real and Dan is. Well, actually, Clark’s real too, but he’s lost… out there somewhere, waiting for me to rescue him. Only I don’t know how.

How could she explain the mess that was her life without being locked in a padded cell? “Have you ever thought you found someone who was exactly right for you, but then you found out some… thing, that you never knew about them that you thought could wreck it all?” Well, that summed it up nicely, there, Lois. Here’s your key to the psycho ward, she told herself.

“Yes.”

She was floored. He understands?

“After Alice and I got married, I found out her right leg was an inch shorter than her left…” Perry continued.

“Chief…” Lois tried to explain that their two problems weren’t even in the same hemisphere of being alike.

“She used to wear these shoes with little wedges in them, made in Portugal,” Perry went on and Lois got absorbed in his story. “And on our wedding night, we’re standing there in front of each other… uh… in the… all together…”

Lois blushed. She couldn’t believe that Perry was telling her this story.

“And she’s listing off to the starboard. Her secret was out. But, you see, it didn’t make any difference to me, because I love her,” Perry finished.

Her boss really did understand her. That was just the story Lois needed to hear. She shouldn’t give up on Clark because she loved him. It didn’t matter to her that he somehow died in the past. He was supposed to be here in the present, and she would continue to work on those clues until she figured exactly how to rescue him from dying in the past and bring him back into her future.

Then she realized neither she nor Perry was speaking; he was just looking at her, waiting for her reaction to his story.

“Oh, Chief, that’s beautiful,” Lois told him with all the emotions flowing through her.

Her boss smiled.

Right answer, Lois, and thanks for not giving up on me, Clark whispered in her ear.

~Never, Clark.~

“Listen now.” Oh, dear, Perry wasn’t finished giving advice. “You and Dan have got to deal with whatever it is, and I don’t mean over a sandwich at your desk.”

Dan? Oh, crap, Perry thought she had been talking about Dan? “Where do you mean?” she was somehow able to mumble, hoping her boss wasn’t going to give another piece of advice about taking her boyfriend to bed.

“Get out of town, so you can focus on what really counts.”

“Oh, well, Perry, I think I’m disciplined enough to not be distracted by work,” Lois started to ramble, trying to find a way to get herself out of this conversation. The phone rang and her boss picked it up.

Actually, maybe Perry had a point. She needed to get out of town. Go to Smallville! Check out things on the ground, so to speak. Do some reconnaissance. See how much of her dreams was real and how much – Superman – was just dreams. It had been forever since she had taken a vacation day. She wondered if the Daily Planet could live without her for a week. Or two. She would take two weeks if it meant spending all her time focusing on rescuing Clark.

“It’s for you,” Perry said, handing her the phone.

“Hello?… Yes, what?” Lois told the person on the other end of the phone who was telling her about some headless corpses in a shallow grave. “Are you sure?”

He was sure and wanted to know if she was interested in checking them out.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Lois hung up the phone. “My police source just said that they just found four bodies, all male, in a shallow grave. First two identified as being last seen at one Spencer Spencer’s club, Love Fortress!” She turned to run out the door, but then she realized, she forgot to tell her boss the best part. She giggled as she turned back around. “And get this! They were all headless.” She grinned in victory. Jimmy’s false idol was going down!

“Good Lord.”

She went to run out the door again until the Chief’s voice stopped her.

“Hey, Lois!”

Lois turned back to look at him.

“A word to the wise. Honey, there will always be another headless corpse, but true love comes around maybe once,” he reminded her.

O-kay. That was weird advice even for Perry. Lois continued out of his office and almost plowed right into Jimmy.

“Hey, Lois, I guess you haven’t seen your desk?” he told her.

“My desk?” she repeated in confusion as she headed towards the object in question, only to find it covered with another huge bouquet of flowers. Terrific. “Let me guess: Dan?”

He appeared from behind the pillar next to her desk with a big grin. “Yes, of course,” Dan announced with a wink. “Who else?” He put his elbows down on her Spencer Spencer research binders as he gazed at her like a love-sick puppy.

She sighed. This was just what she needed. “Dan. That’s so…” Lois searched for the correct term.

Annoying? Excessive? Over-the-top?

~Shut up, Clark. Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.~

“Sweet,” she finally chose, although Clark’s suggestions had been closer to the mark.

A-ha!

Lois pulled the binders out from under Dan’s elbows.

“But?” Dan inquired.

“We have to talk.”

Dan looked uncomfortable with her use of those words.

I don’t know, Lois, those sounded like good words to me, Clark said in that jealous tone he got whenever she talked to Scardino. The only other time she had ever heard Clark use that tone was in her dreams whenever she talked about or to Lex.

“And we will talk, Dan,” Lois pushed her way through the awkwardness. “Right after I get back. I’m sorry. I just have to get this statement, but we’ll do this,” she called to him as she carried her stuff out of the office. “I swear!”

Lois glanced back at Dan as she stood at the elevator and witnessed a moment of despair crash over his expression before he hid it behind another one of his charming smiles. She sighed. If she wasn’t in love with another man…

***

Chapter Eleven

Lois walked out to her car to find it blocked in by a freight truck.

“Great,” she grumbled. As she went to find the driver to ask him to move, her phone started to ring. Balancing her binders precariously, she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “Yes, hello?” she said into her phone.

“Ms. Lane, you have an overseas call. Please hold,” a man on the other end told her.

“No! No! I can’t… Argh!” she said to deaf ears, already having been placed on hold. “Oh, yes, I’ll hold…” She continued to pace in front of her car looking for the driver of the truck. “Hello?… Hello?… Hello?… Hello?… Hello?… Hello?” she repeated into the phone, hoping someone would pick up.

“Please hold. I’m transferring,” the voice on the phone finally said.

“Yeah. I’m holding,” she said into the phone. Who in the world is calling her from overseas? Did this have to do with her Spencer Spencer article? She noticed someone removing boxes from the truck in front of her, and she flagged him down. “Hey, do you think you could get someone from Maintenance to move this truck. I’m blocked in.”

The man said he would.

“Hello?” she said, hoping her call would come through and tell her what so important as to call her on her cell phone.

She heard a creak or a groan of metal above her and glanced up. The Daily Planet flagpole tipped and started falling almost directly on top of her. Lois froze in her spot, dropping both her binders and cell phone on the ground, not to mention her jaw. Next thing she knew, she heard a crash and she was laying on the sidewalk five feet away with Dan Scardino on top of her. The flagpole had flattened the newsstand she had been standing in front of moments before. Dan was littered with the debris from said newsstand.

“Are you all right?” he asked, shaking his head and sending dust particles off from his hair.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I know that doesn’t seem like enough to say… Wow, look at you…” she mumbled. She could feel Dan shaking. From fear? Had he been as afraid for her safety as she had been? “You’ve gotten me out of a lot of jams, but I’ve never seen you like…”

Dan kissed her, cutting off the rest of her gratitude.

***

Once again balancing her Spencer Spencer research binders with the addition of a huge gift basket, Lois stumbled into her apartment. She had just had time to dump her binders and drop her keys down when there was a knock at her front door. Unable to see around the gift basket – ‘large enough to flee Cuba in’ according to Perry – to look through her peep hole, Lois just opened her door.

Dan leaned against her doorframe. “You forgot to ask, ‘who is it?’”

She rolled her eyes and slammed the door in his face. Jerk!

He knocked again as she walked into her kitchen to throw away the gift basket. She ignored him. He knocked again, louder. Between pressed lips, she called out with Mindy Church sweetness, “Who is it?”

“Dan,” he answered in a silly voice.

“Who?”

“Dan!” he repeated tersely.

“I don’t know anyone I’d want to let in my apartment by that name,” Lois responded, crossing her arms and refusing to answer the door.

“Your idiot of a boyfriend, who you soundly need to hit in the head with a 2x4 for once again interfering with how you live your life,” he replied.

Lois opened the door with a satisfied smile. “Oh, him.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan instantly apologized. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

She nodded at the obviousness of that statement.

“How is it that I’m allowed to save your life, but not criticize how you open your door without checking for bad guys?” Dan inquired, following her into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

Lois didn’t dignify that question with a response.

With more intelligence than he had shown recently, he decided to move on. “Want to tell me what that thing was?” he asked with a hint of jealousy. Probably because the gift basket had been larger than the desk-covering bouquet of flowers he had brought her when he had stopped by the office earlier.

“Promotion for some stupid tropical resort,” she told him, walking into the kitchen and pulling out the only thing in her cupboard, a box of chocolate cookies. She returned to the living room to sit down on her sofa. She set down the box and took a bite of a cookie. “Perry is practically forcing me to invite you to go with me.”

“Me?” Dan raised a skeptical but delighted eyebrow as he sat down next to her.

“Perry thinks it would be good if the two of us had some time together outside of Metropolis to focus on our relationship, to decide what we really want,” she said, standing back up to retrieve her binders.

“Doesn’t sound all that bad of an idea,” he replied.

“I told him ‘I’m too busy’,” she said.

“Yeah, well, your work would be a lot safer than spending an uninterrupted weekend alone with me,” Dan teased.

“Hold it. Hold it!” she retorted, lifting up her hands. “I’m not the one canceling dinner and lunch at the last minute to rush off to some undisclosed location to meet a source… oh, wait, that could be me, but it hasn’t been. Four of our last six dates were canceled or delayed because of your job.”

“What are you saying?” Dan asked.

Did she really need to idiot-proof it for him?

If the shoe fits…

~Oh, shut up, Clark!~ she groused at that jealous voice inside her head.

“I’m saying I don’t think you could let the Drug Enforcement Agency get along without you for two whole days,” Lois clarified, taking another bite of her cookie.

“And you would rather write about other people’s lives because it would be less dangerous than living one of your own,” he tossed back at her. “Which, knowing your life as I do, I’m surprised you’ve lasted as long as you have.”

She pressed her lips together. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, before he got an uncomfortable expression on his face and shifted his body position. His beeper must be vibrating.

“Someone want you?” she asked innocently.

“No,” Dan lied, shifting his position again and looking even more uncomfortable.

Lois took the last bite of her cookie with a grin as she waited for him to fold.

“Yes,” he grumbled, pulling his beeper out of his pocket and walking to her telephone. He dialed the number, talked into the receiver for a few minutes as she started flipping through her binders. Eventually, he returned. “I’ve got to go,” he apologetically admitted.

Big surprise there.

“Go,” Lois insisted. If she had a meeting with a source, she wouldn’t want him holding her back.

Dan walked to the door and opened it. “You know, I could do it, if you could.”

“Wanna bet?” she dared him.

He laughed nervously and nodded. “Bet.”

Lois grinned, taking a bite of another cookie. He was so totally going to lose, but there was nothing he could do about it. That resort didn’t even have telephone service.

Dan winked at her and left.

Sighing, Lois took another cookie out of the box.

What was she doing? Didn’t she just decide that very afternoon that she was going to Smallville and investigate Clark? Figure out how to save him? Not run off on some romantic tropical vacation with Dan.

When she had gone to Perry to ask for the time off, he had misunderstood and offered her the promotional trip to her own private island resort to work on her relationship with Dan. She couldn’t very well tell her boss that she didn’t want to go off with her clearly smitten boyfriend, who had just saved her life – again – but instead wanted to go chase down leads about some man she had met and fallen in love with in her dreams. That would be a one-way ticket to Bedlam.

And maybe Perry was right. Perhaps a weekend in the sun, relaxing at some fancy resort was just what she needed… before she left on her solo vacation to search for her true love.

***

A small white motor boat with a blue canopy meandered through the islands off the coast of South America. Lois could hear the call of tropical birds and the titter of animals. She could smell the fragrance of lush flowers and the salt of the sea air. It was hot and humid and, despite all that, felt wonderful. She was starving for some of that famous tropical fruit everyone was always raving about. That bland airline meal she had picked at, and reluctantly eaten, happened hours ago. She thankfully had bought and eaten a large Double Fudge Chunk Bar upon arriving at the duty free shop at the Rio airport. She only wished the heaviness in the pit of her stomach and the dried salt on her cheeks would go away.

The boat finally approached a dock. The captain unloaded her three suitcases and a couple of beach chairs.

“Excuse me? Do you know where we check in?” she asked him as she stumbled along in her high heel cork beach shoes with the first of her bags. He waved vaguely up the small beach and into the trees. “Well, the brochure said something about a ‘welcome hoki luau’.” The man completely ignored her. “I guess, we’ll just wait for the hotel jitney,” Lois mumbled, pulling on her stylish white sunhat.

Jimmy climbed out of the boat with her umbrella – she did burn easily for a brunette – and his one small bag. He seemed happy to be there. He wore his sunglasses, shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt that really should have been left on the rack at the store. She didn’t blame him. When one got called, two hours before departure, to go on a romantic tropical beach vacation in the islands because the boyfriend – or should she say former boyfriend – of one’s partner had been called into work at the last minute, one was allowed to be ecstatic about it.

“I know what this is. Casual elegance, Lois,” Jimmy was saying. “We shouldn’t be distracted by the simple rustic beach, into thinking that there really isn’t a…” He turned back to the boat, but the captain had already cast off and left them standing on the dock. “You’re kidding me. I thought these fancy places had better service than that? I didn’t even have a chance to tip him. Did you tip him?”

Lois shook her head. “Nope.”

They stood on the dock for minute longer until they could no longer see the boat. With a sigh, they each picked up one of Lois’ remaining suitcases and moved ashore.

***

Lois relaxed on the sun chairs, her umbrella unfurled against the heat of the day, as she waited for Jimmy to return from his trek in search of said tropical island resort. Relaxed was the wrong word. Grumbled probably fit her mood better. Perry! She swore at her boss from under her breath once more. If she hadn’t listened to her boss, if the Chief hadn’t meddled, she could be on her way to … well, Kansas.

“Are you working?” Jimmy scoffed, sitting down the other beach chair.

“I’m writing my will,” she retorted. Actually, she was writing down everything she could recall about what Clark had told her about himself, but that wasn’t something she was planning on sharing with her partner. “That way when they find our bleached bones, someone will know my last wishes.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “Well, if these are my last minutes, who better to spend them with?”

Lois refused to look at him, instead groaned inward looking to the sky and wondering why she had invited her partner to join her on this bad idea to begin with.

“Alone in paradise with a beautiful woman. It’s almost biblical.” Jimmy shot her a grin.

She returned a scowl and put down her umbrella. Obviously Jimmy hadn’t done much in the way of reading the Bible. She got up and tried to walk around. She thought better when she paced. Unfortunately, pacing in these non-beach shoes was a trial at best. “While you were out looking around, you didn’t happen to find any proof that there actually is a hotel now, did you?”

“No,” he reluctantly admitted. “But why wouldn’t there be a hotel?”

“Well…” Lois hated it when Jimmy was right. “Maybe no one built one or maybe we’re on the wrong island or …” Her eyes opened in fright as her imagination went wild. “Maybe this is a penal colony.” She could hear Jimmy chuckling at her theories. “Or maybe no living being has ever been here in the history of the Earth. Why don’t you go and take another look around?” she suggested.

“No, Lois. Use your head. Look…” He pointed towards where they disembarked from the boat. “There wouldn’t be a dock here unless this was some kind of inhabited island. Secondly, this place is too nice for a penal colony, if they still have those nowadays. Let’s just wait for the hotel to come out looking for us. They’re expecting us, so when we don’t show up, they’ll look for us. If you’re so desperate to find the hotel, I’ll lend you my shoes and you can go tromp through the tropical vegetation. I’m staying here.”

Lois sighed. She hated to do so, but she gave Jimmy another point. He was being logical. What he said made sense. Only… only, something about this place, this whole trip felt off to her, and she didn’t like that. “You know what we need. We need a flying superhero to come and save us and fly us back to…” She flipped her hand. “The closest bit of civilization.” Wherever that might be. Rio?

“Yes, Lois. But there’s no superhero here. It’s just Joe and Judy Regular.”

She scowled at him again. He didn’t have to remind her of that. She looked off towards the water. “Superman, where are you?” she whispered in defeat.

Eventually, Lois took off her impossible heels and paced in her stocking feet, but even that seemed futile. The boat ride had taken them around forty-five minutes, if not longer, so it would be stupid to try to swim back to wherever it was they had come from. She plopped into her chair with an exasperated sigh.

Jimmy blissfully ignored her. He had opened his shirt and was soaking up the rays.

She pressed her lips together. “You’re going to burn.”

“Oh, right,” he said and started digging through his bag. “I picked this up in the gift shop at the Rio airport.”

He showed her a brown bottle of what she could only imagine was goo, but was probably suntan lotion.

Jimmy confirmed her theory. “It’s supposed to give me a natural Brazilian look. That should impress the ladies when we return home, huh?” He bounced his eyebrows.

Ugh.

She heard a sound, and it wasn’t one that she liked. It sounded wild and animalesque. Gulping, Lois hesitantly turned her head to look past where Jimmy was sitting. There, standing at the edge of the beach, was a tiger, a large and very hungry looking tiger. She knew coming to this island was a mistake.

Jimmy opened his bottle of goo and started slathering it upon his bare chest, unaware of their reception committee. With a grimace, Lois covered her mouth and nose at the smell, which was a mixture of turpentine, coconuts, and tar. It was noxious at best and rivaled only the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility for the worst smell in the history of smells. She wanted to cough. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to ask Jimmy to go feed himself to the hungry tiger just to get her away from that smell, but she didn’t. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to breathe. She didn’t want to attract that big cat’s attention any more than they already had. She had no idea how they were going to escape the animal.

Then Lois saw the tiger wrinkle its nose and run off.

With an amazed chuckle, she held out her hand. “Why don’t you give me some of that stuff?” she asked, when she was finally able to speak again. She had no desire to get closer to that smell, but it was worth it if it repelled wildlife. She coughed to clear her throat as Jimmy shrugged and poured a dollop of brown stuff into her hand. “Jimmy,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “Have you ever heard of tigers in South America?”

“Paranoid much there, Lois?” He laughed, pouring more goop into his hand. “No, Lois, tigers reside in India and southeast Asia. Here we have panthers and jaguars, but I doubt they’d be on an island this far from the mainland either. The worst we’re liable to come across are snakes and some big ol’ nasty bugs. Nothing to worry about.”

Lois swallowed down the bile stuck in her throat. Snakes? Bugs? Other than mosquitoes? She hoped this tiger repellant worked on those too. With much disgust she started rubbing the sticky stuff on her arms. She belatedly realized that it probably would stain her nice white travel dress, but since they were going to die on this island, what did it really matter?

***

More hours passed by before Lois and Jimmy decided nobody was on their way and they should hunt for some food and water. It was better than staying on the beach and being hunted herself; luckily, they hadn’t seen another hide nor hair from the tiger. She dug through her luggage and changed into a pair of shorts and skimpy top that basically covered her bra, tying in a knot at the center of her chest. Thankfully, she had also packed some flat white sandals. This outfit was much cooler and one hundred and ten percent more comfortable.

Jimmy eyed her choice of apparel appreciatively until her looks-could-kill expression convinced him to look for food. Sometimes she wished she had heat-vision.

What this weekend would have been like if Scardino hadn’t bailed on her at the last minute, Lois had no idea. He had been working on a case of some missing transplant drugs, the kind that helped reduce the chance of rejection by the host body – she couldn’t remember the name. He was afraid that someone was using it to do some unscheduled transplants on their own. In other words, human organ trafficking. It was all very interesting, but off-the-record.

Just as he had arrived at her apartment to go to the airport, Dan had gotten beeped to come into the office on another lead. With a shrug, a kiss to her cheek, and a mumbled apology, Dan had run out the door, claiming he would catch up with her at the airport. Lois hadn’t waited until her front door had closed; she had picked up the phone and called Jimmy. She wasn’t going to hold her breath for supposed boyfriend to catch up with her now.

After rescuing her from the falling flagpole, her resistance to his charm had wavered. Dan had shown that he really cared for her as he risked his life for hers again, but it seemed only during those times when her life was in danger did she really matter. Heaven forbid he put her ahead of his job for two days running…

Lois found a pool of water where it seemed a small creek emptied itself. She tried to bend down to fill their one water bottle full of water. Two seconds later she fell headfirst into the water.

Jimmy chuckled, coming back into view carrying with a small bunch of bananas. “Whatcha doing?”

“I thought a swim might be nice,” she retorted. She pooled her hands to take a sip of water.

“Eww, I wouldn’t do that, Lois,” he suggested. “Who knows what kind of germs are floating around in that pool?” He grimaced. “Let’s see, if we can get a fire started and we’ll boil the water before we drink it.”

“If you’re taking orders, I’ll have a double café espresso with non-fat milk and whipped cream,” Lois said between pressed lips, dropping the water back into the pool. Jimmy had earned himself another point.

“I saw some coconuts back there. I’ll see if we can crack one open on a rock to use for a pot.”

Yep, heat-vision would definitely be coming in handy about now.

He set down the bunch of bananas and reached over the edge of the pool to help her out. With a jerk of her hand, Jimmy plopped into water next to her.

“Refreshing.” He gave her a nasty glare and her expression sweetened.

“I thought so too,” Lois replied with a bat of innocent eyelashes before she splashed him. She climbed out of the pool and reached down to help Jimmy.

“No, thanks, Mad Dog. I’ll help myself,” he told her, moving down the pond.

“Sorry, Jimmy. I just hate being laughed at,” she confessed, still holding out her hand. She would have been dead meat, literally, if it hadn’t have been for Jimmy and his goo. At least the dip in the pool had rinsed off some of the sticky substance. It never had rubbed in properly.

This time, Jimmy accepted her help and she pulled him from the pool. “Thanks, Lois.”

“You go find those coconuts and see if you can crack them while I get changed again, and try to start a fire.”

“You? A fire?” Jimmy seemed genuinely surprised. “You got some matches in one of those suitcases, Houdini?”

“No, but I did happen to take one year of girl scouting before my parents broke up.” She patted her head with a finger. “Let’s hope some of it stuck.”

“My apologies, boss,” he said with an elaborate bow.

Lois raised a brow. “Partner.”

Jimmy smiled. “Partner.”

***

Lois started the fire using the old string on a stick trick, even though Jimmy had volunteered the use of his camera lens to intensify the light. Her partner heated up a coconut and banana soup for dinner. They leaned back against a large rock and passed their one coconut “bowl” between the two of them.

“Do you want to hear something funny?” Jimmy asked after they had been quiet for some minutes.

“Oh, please!” Lois pleaded. She could use some humor after the day they had undergone.

“Me, too. Whatcha got?”

She slugged him on the arm.

Jimmy coughed. “I’ll go first then.” He exhaled and rubbed his bicep. “I got another postcard from my dad. He’s been in Vegas, blowing up some old casino. Before I got your call, I had been thinking, more like daydreaming, that maybe he’d visit me this weekend.”

Lois glanced at Jimmy, an unfamiliar ache of guilt tugging at her chest. She knew that Jimmy and his father had never had a terrific relationship. He idolized his dad, and his dad kept letting him down time after time. Jimmy had eventually transferred some of his paternal worship onto Perry, who had been more than happy to accept it, being that his own sons had given up on him years ago. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. You didn’t have to come,” she said softly.

“What? A weekend with a beautiful woman on a tropical island or one spent at home waiting for my dad not to show…” Jimmy shrugged. “That’s a no-brainer, Lois.” He smiled at her.

She kindly returned it.

“He didn’t say he was coming… My dad hasn’t been to Metropolis in four years. And he isn’t one for using the phone. I just get the postcards every once in a while. Anyway, it was nice to have my job to fall back on. I’m kind of hoping he does show, and I’m not there to welcome him with open arms this time.” Jimmy sighed. “Well, a handshake at least.”

“‘Little boy blue and the man in the moon’,” Lois replied.

“Huh?”

She shook her head. “An old Cat Stevens song,” she explained.

“Oh.” Obviously not catching the reference.

“My turn,” Lois said, slapping her knee. “I’m glad you’re here with me instead of Dan.”

“Really?” Jimmy replied with a hopeful eyebrow.

“It was getting too serious, too fast between us, and, well…” She looked away. “I don’t love him.”

“Oh?” He seemed more interested.

Lois sighed, putting a hand to her head. “I tried… but someone…” She winced at her gaff. “Something keeps getting in the way.”

“Someone?” he inquired softly, again with too much hope.

She pinched her lips together, not wanting to tell him of the man from her dreams. Telling her pseudo-therapist Sarah was one thing. Telling Jimmy was quite another. The note she had written to herself had said that Clark was real, but that he had died. His voice kept whispering to her, inside her head, where only she could hear him. Not only did Clark talk to her, but he answered when she responded. So, either she was tiptoeing down the road to Nutsville or somehow she had this otherworldly connection with Clark. She hoped, rather than knew, that it was the latter. It was the uncertainty that scared her.

Lois didn’t believe she wasn’t crazy; so, Clark must somehow be reaching out to her from beyond the grave. Acknowledging Clark’s existence out loud would be the quickest route to a padded room, she knew, but if she kept all these shaky feelings bottled up much longer they were going to explode. Maybe there was a way to talk about Clark without revealing that he wasn’t real.

“I met someone,” she reluctantly admitted. Well, not technically met.

I’ll accept that answer, Clark whispered.

“Then why aren’t you with him?”

Lois took a sip from their coconut, still not looking at Jimmy. “He’s… gone.” Talking about Clark out loud hurt, like she was experiencing his death again for the first time all over again. She took a couple of deep breaths to control her emotions. The last thing she wanted to do was cry on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Gone?” Jimmy said weakly. “Oh, Luthor.”

She coughed, almost spilling their bowl. “No! Ugh. God, no! Do you really think I could have feelings for that… that…?” She shivered. Finally she found a phrase to describe her deceased boyfriend. “Sorry waste of a human being?”

“Human waste of a human being,” Jimmy mumbled and then cleared his throat. “Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love for. Love is love, Lois.” He tossed her an apologetic smile. “I’m glad it isn’t him.”

“Cl… He’s a reporter…” Lois knew she couldn’t say more about her working relationship with Clark without giving away the fact that he didn’t exist… not outside her dreams in any case. She laughed. “He’s a bespectacled farm boy from Smallville, Kansas.”

Jimmy gazed down at their soup warily as if the coconut soup had psychedelic effects. “A farm boy? From Kansas? You?”

Lois shrugged. “He’s sweet. Kind. Considerate. Selfless. Genuine. Smart. Honest. Trustworthy. He treats me better than any man…” Ever. “I’ve never met another man like him… he’s unique.” I love him. She sighed.

“I bet he wouldn’t have followed you home after being sprayed by Revenge,” Jimmy grumbled.

She thought about the dream she had lived the night before. She had woken up that morning in tears. Clark had been such a gentleman when she had been dosed with Revenge. She couldn’t believe she had showed up at his apartment in a harem costume and practically begged him to make love to her. Clark had too much respect for her to take advantage, even when Lois knew he had been dosed as well. Not too much respect to bruise her ego, because he had finally caved by the next morning. Unfortunately, her dream self had gotten to her senses back by then.

Unfortunately?

~My dreams,~ she reminded Clark. ~If I want to make out with you in my dreams, I don’t see why you should get a say so.~

Thanks. But I don’t have the power to change your memories or your dreams. I’m just an echo. A figment of your wishful thinking.

Lois sighed. She knew that. That dream had been so much different than the experience she had lived in reality.

“Oh, Lois, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Jimmy was instantly apologizing, misreading her reaction.

She held up her hand. “It’s okay, Jimmy.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, thinking of Clark. For some reason, Clark always made her feel better. She thought, with a wry smile, of how she had believed he had looked like Superman. Ha! Wouldn’t that be a lark?! If Clark was Superman? She rested her head on her knees. Oh, to have her ideal man and her fantasy man rolled up together into once nice delicious package. Now, that would be a fantasy.

“Lois?” Jimmy said gently, almost a whisper. “I’ve been thinking.”

She glanced over at him as he awkwardly paused.

“After what Toni Taylor said about Luthor… and what you found out about him and Menken and some of the other people he dealt with…” Jimmy paused again as if he didn’t want to voice the words.

“Uh-huh,” Lois encouraged him to continue.

Her partner cleared his throat. “Do you think Luthor might have been the one behind Ralph’s murder?”

Lois sucked in a breath and grimaced as gristly images filled her head. First, what Ralph had tried to do to her while he had been laced with pheromones. Secondly, what had happened to him several weeks later – just days after she had mentioned the event to Lex to explain why she couldn’t move their relationship forward just yet. She pushed these two thoughts immediately back out of her mind. Reaching over, she took Jimmy’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Jimmy.”

“Hey,” he said with embarrassment. “I tried to kill you myself. Let’s just call it even.”

“Some things are worse than death…” She gulped, leaning against his shoulder. “But nobody should have to die like that, not even Ralph.”

Without Lois wanting them to, the crime scene photos her police source had shown her flashed through her mind again. Ralph had been beaten up, stripped naked, tortured with things… forced where they shouldn’t, mutilated, and then left hanging upside-down to bleed out. He had been covered by rats when police finally discovered him.

She pushed the image away again and replaced it with another one from her dreams that always made her feel better: Clark holding her tightly in his arms and rocking her back and forth. Mr. Make-up had just attacked her and Clark had saved her. She could still hear her echoing voice, ‘Please. Don’t leave me.’ She could almost feel Clark’s arms holding her once more.

I won’t. I’m here. I’m right here. Even though she knew Clark wasn’t really there, she could feel the memory of his lips brush the top of her head. He can’t hurt you anymore.

For some reason, these words combined with Clark’s embrace always seemed to calm her. Even if they were as far from the truth as truth could get.

“I’m going to have to disagree with you there, Lois,” Jimmy interrupted this memory. “Ralph got what he had coming to him. Not that I would have…”

Lois patted his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t have, Jimmy.”

Luckily, she and Jimmy had been in the middle of the stake-out at the Lexor at the time and had airtight alibis for Ralph’s murder. Not that either of them had reported the incident at her apartment to the authorities… just to Perry, who had promptly fired Ralph. Not that Perry had acted with decorum himself during the whole pheromone outbreak at the Planet, but there were certain lines that should never be crossed, under the influence or not.

“Of course, I don’t know how Luthor would have found out about it, unless…” Jimmy looked down at her.

“Yes, I told him,” Lois confessed.

“Would he have…? I mean, we both know what the Boss was capable of, but do you think Luthor liked…?” She heard more than saw Jimmy suck his lips inside his mouth to stop himself from saying anything further.

Lois swallowed. “I’ve never told anyone this, Jimmy, but Lex had what he described as an ‘ark’ built underground. Basically, it was a bunker that had supplies and room to hold three hundred people in case Nightfall had actually struck.” She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “He invited me to move into it with him. He had actually replicated my apartment in it. He asked me informally, mind you, to be his ‘companion’ if the rest of the world was destroyed. So, yes, he liked me enough.”

Jimmy’s jaw fell open.

“I turned him down!” Lois said in her defense. “If the world was going out with a bang, no way in hell was I going to miss it.”

He hugged her with the arm around her shoulders. “Of course, you would. You’re not one to hide from life’s problems.”

“Awwww. Aren’t they adorable?” said a strange voice as two men appeared out of nowhere, pointing guns at them.

“Okay. Now, I’m wishing I didn’t accept your invitation, Lois,” Jimmy mumbled, holding up his hands.

***

Chapter Twelve

Lois and Jimmy found themselves chained up in some kind of underground dungeon. She had been swearing under her breath at Perry, Dan, herself – for not having stood up to either of the two aforementioned men – and Clark for not being here with her.

Hey! What did I do? Clark asked.

~You went and died on me,~ she reminded the voice inside her head silently.

I’ll be more careful next time, he retorted in a teasing tone. I hate to have inconvenienced you any by dying.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she admitted to herself – reluctantly – that yes, Clark did have it worse than her.

“Lois,” Jimmy’s voice said from the next cell over, interrupting her moment alone with Clark. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you…”

“Jimmy,” she said quietly, having an inkling of where he was headed.

“No, Lois, please let me finish,” he said, plowing ahead. “I have admired you for a long time… years actually.”

“Jimmy,” she interrupted again, louder this time, really not wanting this information to be more than an unspoken theory.

“I love you, Lois.”

The words now hung between them. “You don’t want to fall for me, kid. I can’t take hurting another decent man right now. I’m a mess. I can’t be intimate because I freak out if someone holds me wrong. I don’t know if my head’s screwed on tight or if my brains are falling out. I’m hearing things. I don’t know if the man I love exists anymore.” Lois exhaled as those pesky tears dripped down her cheeks. “I can’t lose you too; you’re the only friend I have left.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Jimmy responded in that optimistic tone of his that always made her smile. “And it needed to be said, since I know we’ll be dying in the next few minutes…” his voice wavered.

“Why? Have you heard something?” she replied wryly, trying to bring levity to their situation while changing the subject.

Jimmy took her change of topic and ran with it. “That big muscley jerk took my watch. The watch my dad gave me for my birthday a couple years back.” He sighed. “Do you know it automatically changes the time to whatever time zone you’re in? It was like the coolest thing my dad ever gave me and that thug stole it!” Jimmy rattled his chains, trying to get free. Neither of them liked this medieval torture chamber. “They wouldn’t have stolen it if we were going to survive.”

“Right. Because thieves always kill those they steal from,” she mumbled.

“Huh?” Jimmy stammered.

Lois turned and faced her friend, telling him in no uncertain terms, “I’m not dying today.”

“What?”

“I’m not dying because some psycho rich man has got it in for me,” she repeated. “Clark needs me,” she whispered to herself, speaking his name aloud for the first time since mentioning him to Sarah.

Always.

She harrumphed. ~Of course, you could have showed me a little more affection while we were both under the influence of pheromones.~

Like that wouldn’t have blown up in my face, Lois.

“Who’s Clark?”

Dammit, she grimaced. Jimmy had heard her speak Clark’s name. “The man I love,” she admitted reluctantly.

“I thought you said he left you,” Jimmy said with confusion. “And since you don’t love Dan, I thought…”

“I’m naturally going to fall for you?” Lois said with a roll of her eyes. “I love you, Jimmy, I do, but like a brother – a little brother.”

I’ve heard that one before.

~Not helping matters, Clark!~

“Can you at least tell me where on your list I rank?” Jimmy asked with hope.

Lois groaned. “I don’t rank the men in my life, Jimmy.”

He looked at her with a puppy dog expression.

“No!”

“I’m tied up in chains here, Lois. Give me something to live for.”

She snorted. “Fine!”

This should be enlightening.

~You really don’t know how to be quiet, do you, Kent?~

I had a good teacher, he retorted.

~Smart aleck.~

“Mel Gibson,” Lois started, knocking Clark down a peg for being an obnoxious know-it-all. “Clark… CK, for short… um…” She wasn’t ready to say the full name of her dream man out loud to anyone yet; she would just tell him old Jimmy’s nickname for Clark. She didn’t really want to include this Jimmy on the list at all, but having saved her life once again on the previous day, she felt like she should throw him some kind of bone. “Brad Pitt, Antonio Banderas, James Olsen, and Dan Scardino.” Dan only got last place because he wouldn’t have bought horrible tiger-repelling suntan lotion at the airport, he had failed to treat her as an equal, and, oh yeah, stood her up… AGAIN. At least Jimmy knew who was driving their relationship. Her.

Jimmy exhaled with relief. “I can live with that. So basically if we removed the three old guys who wouldn’t be caught dead with an investigative reporter.” He grimaced. “Bad choice of words. Anyway, if any of them were found dead in Metropolis, I bet you would find them first.”

“Flattery will not move you up the list,” she warned. “And those actors aren’t much older than I am.”

“If this CK guy doesn’t want you, would you settle for me?” Jimmy suggested. “If we survive this dungeon and make it back to Metropolis and everything, would you give me a chance?”

Lois tugged on her chains, hoping to break her way free. She concentrated at the lock on the cell door of bar, wishing again that she had heat-vision. But since she had never been able to get the Force to work either, it was doubtful she would instantly become Superwoman…

You don’t need heat-vision to be a super woman, Lois.

She ignored Clark and tried to think of another way to get herself out of this conversation. Finally, having tried everything else, she took a deep breath and screamed, “Help! Superman!”

Lois, Clark groaned in agony. Please stop.

Jimmy raised a brow at her odd request for help. “Uh… Lois?… Whatcha doing?”

“Well, what if there was a superhero out there with super-hearing, and he was looking for us, but couldn’t find us because we were locked in this lead-lined bunker?” she explained, not making a dent in his skepticism.

Oooh! She had forgotten to add Superman to her fantasy list of men vying for her. ~Let’s see, if I bump Mel Gibson down to third and put Clark back in his rightful first place spot, I could slide Superman into second…~

Superman would come in second to me? Clark replied, his voice cracking in awe.

~Well, he may look hot in skintight spandex and be a fantastic kisser, but he still lives in my daydream castle in the sky. In other words, while he does show up amazingly well in my dreams, I haven’t yet gotten him to manifest himself in reality,~ she justified her crazy logic. ~You, on the other hand, Clark, keep me company both in my dreams and out and also happen to be a fantastic kisser. Therefore, you have beat him out for the top slot.~

Lois felt a sense of calm come over her as a warm relaxing feeling radiated throughout her body.

“Superman?” Jimmy scoffed. “Wonderful, Lois, you really have finally dropped off the deep end.”

“I’m not insane. I’m just hypothesizing that since Batman exists, why not a Superman?” she retorted.

~Want to back me up here, Clark? Got any great factoids to support my theory?~

I really don’t think anything I could give you would help your sanity defense any.

“What?” she growled at Clark.

“Huh?” Jimmy replied.

“I thought I heard something,” she said as an excuse on why she had answered Clark out loud.

They were silent for a few minutes again, listening to hear if anyone was coming. When it was clear that no one was coming, Jimmy went back to Lois’ least favorite topic of conversation. “So, there’s no way I’d even get a chance?”

“Look,” Lois snapped, hoping to find a way to shut him up. “Would it make you happy if I told you that if neither of us find anyone by your thirtieth birthday, I’ll go on one date with you? Until then, can we just drop the whole subject?” she said, pleading to have one man in her life not treat her as a sex object.

Hate it that you’re so loveable, Lois? Clark chuckled. That was some bone you threw him.

“Oh, you want me to be your fall-back husband?” Jimmy gushed. “I can live with that. “

“One date,” Lois snarled.

“So, can I tell people we’re engaged?” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything.

“No! It’s one date. One date! Eight years from now. If you don’t have someone and I don’t have someone. And we’re both alive,” Lois corrected him, her voice rising with each word.

Jimmy grinned. “I can wait.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Lois grumbled. “I plan on being happily married to Clark by then.”

If that’s a proposal, I accept.

She could feel Jimmy’s gaze on her, so she turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Uh… Lois, just yesterday you were planning on coming on a romantic weekend with Dan,” Jimmy reminded her. “And now you’re saying you want to marry this CK fellow. Isn’t that kind of quick? Especially for you.”

She would have shrugged, but her arms were tired from being suspended above her head for so long. Jimmy was completely correct. What if after she found Clark, he wasn’t the man of her dreams?

It wasn’t like that hadn’t happened before.

It had.

Often.

Actually every time.

“You’re right, Jimmy. You’re absolutely right. I haven’t even met…” She coughed. “Seen him in…” She searched for the correct word. “Forever. I don’t know if things will work out between us. I don’t know. All that I know is that I think about him all the time. I can’t get him off my mind. I dream about him every night and wonder what my life would be like with him in it. And, yes, I tried to forget him by getting into a relationship with Dan. That clearly was a mistake.” She rolled her eyes up to the chained hands above her head. “I know that now. Look at me, I’m out of control, I’m babbling. I never babble.”

You’re kidding, right? You’re a brook.

“I heard that!”

“What?! I didn’t say anything,” complained Jimmy, staring at her with wide eyes.

“You were thinking it,” she grumbled, daring him to say differently.

Jimmy shrugged.

“Okay, so maybe I babble a little, but never about men. Ever! But Clark’s different,” Lois said, still defending him. “He’s not like other men.”

You can say that again, Clark mumbled in agreement.

“So, if Mr. Wonderful is the one, why aren’t you together now?”

“I didn’t know he was ‘the one’ at the time. He was just my best friend and then when I saw him kissing T… another woman…”

“He kissed another woman?”

~Yeah, Toni Taylor,~ she scoffed inside her head. ~How was it, Clark?~

Not as nice as kissing you.

“It was just a distraction, so I could get away…”

“Right,” Jimmy said with a heavy dose of disbelief.

“It was!” Lois defended Clark again. “He loves me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He does!” she roared.

I do.

“Sounds like it. So, he kissed this other woman and…”

“I stormed off. He accused me of being jealous. I claimed to be angry at him butting into my story, but the real reason was because of that kiss. Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was angry because I wanted him to be kissing me, not her.”

“I know that feeling,” Jimmy mumbled.

“I was jealous; I just refused to acknowledge it at that time,” she admitted.

“So what happened to CK?” Jimmy asked.

“He left town. Disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” he questioned doubtfully.

“Yeah. Well, I’m not sure what happened. That’s why when I… we get out of here I’m going to spend my vacation – the next couple of weeks – hunting him down. And when I find his butt, I’m going to drag it back to Metropolis with me, where he belongs.”

“Sounds like he has commitment issues,” her partner replied.

Lois heard something that sounded like a key in the lock and her eyes flashed in that direction. “Clark’s not like that!”

“Uh-huh.”

The door opened and in walked the henchmen who had captured them out by the pond.

“Finally! I thought I’d ended up in hell,” Lois mumbled, more to herself than to her captors.

“I want my watch back,” Jimmy demanded, either ignoring Lois’ comment or he hadn’t heard it.

“Pipe down,” the bearded thug responded, opening the door to Lois’ cell. “Your host requests the honor of your company upstairs.” He unfastened her hands from the manacles and dragged her from the cell.

“I think I’ll have to pass. As much as I’d like to leave this torture chamber, I forgot my party clothes,” Lois said, rubbing her wrists.

“Spencer Spencer said it was a come as you are,” the man retorted.

“Not Spencer Spencer!” Jimmy said with dismay. “He’s my man.”

“I told you he was scum,” Lois called to her partner as she tried to break free from the strong man with the gun. “Maybe you’ll think twice about whose dating advice you’ll take from now on.”

“Let us go!” Jimmy yelled, pulling on his chains. “Or I’ll cancel my subscription to Love Fortress International!”

The henchmen both looked at Jimmy as if they couldn’t care less, but the distraction was long enough for Lois to use her elbow to jab the strong one’s gut.

“Hey, hold it,” said the bearded man, jabbing a syringe into her thigh. “Nap time, honey.”

Lois lost all will to fight and to keep her eyes open and suddenly felt extremely relaxed and tired.

The last thing she could remember was hearing Clark’s voice echoing through her head, Fight it, Lois! Fight it.

***

“Come on. Wake up,” some male voice coaxed through a thick fog. It wasn’t Clark’s or Jimmy’s.

Lois felt extremely tired, but at least she was sitting down. She didn’t want to wake up, but someone was slapping her cheeks.

“I’ve had lousy dates before, but this is ridiculous,” the deep voice continued. He sounded quite full of himself.

She pulled her eyelids open to find herself tied to a chair in some ornate and tackily decorated office. Whomever had slapped her face was now gone. Her chair was surrounded by six cross-bows at close range. Either someone was paranoid, or her reputation had preceded her. Lois couldn’t think of another reason for the overkill on the weapons.

Facing her was a man with what could have been either badly highlighted, sandy blond or salt-and-pepper hair and a goatee; Lois wasn’t quite sure which. He was sitting inside some kind of wood box with only his head exposed so he had to drink his martini with a straw. Classy.

“Hi-ya, toots. I’m Spencer Spencer. Welcome to my windowless lair,” he told her.

“You’re Spencer Spencer?” He wasn’t at all what she expected. She examined his box thingy closer. It seemed to be some kind of medical device on wheels. “I thought you’d be…” She couldn’t think of a single polite thing to say that wouldn’t make him activate the crossbows. “– taller.”

“You look lovely when you’re revolted,” he spit out at her.

“I don’t know what you’ve got going on here, but…” She had no hope. Not even the suggestion of hope of being rescued. What could she possibly say?

Tell him something, Lois!

“Authorities will be here any minute.”

“You mean your six foot some-odd tall DEA agent of a boyfriend? Well, that would be just hunky dory with me,” he said with a big smile. “I much prefer his body to Shorty downstairs…”

Lois gulped, not knowing what to make of that statement.

“But doubtful, since we’re not on American soil. You know, I was going to kill you for all that crap you wrote about me, but then I thought you might like an exciting career opportunity,” he said, trying to charm her again.

It really wasn’t going to work; she didn’t know why he was trying. “What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“You can be my sex slave,” he suggested.

“Kill me,” she stated. ~Sorry, Clark.~

“I know. I know. The body. Maybe I shouldn’t hide it in a box. Maybe you imagine it worse than it is.”

“Maybe,” Lois responded cautiously.

“You couldn’t imagine worse than this!” he roared at her. “My only chance with girls like you is shooting them up with cobra venom and then it’s iffy, but all that’s going to change now, thanks to modern medicine.” He pushed a switch with the side of his head. A curtain fell, revealing a painting of a tall, debonair Spencer dressed casually in a button-down shirt and slacks.

Lois shrugged. “You don’t look so bad. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s not what I look like now,” Spencer informed her with annoyance. “That’s what I would have looked like if your DEA agent boyfriend hadn’t decided to blow you off.”

The headless bodies, whispered Clark.

“The headless bodies! It was you!” Lois gasped. Dan had said something about transplant drugs being stolen and having a new lead. The four headless men! Of course. She beat Dan to the punch, yet again. Too bad she wouldn’t be able to live long enough to rub it in his face.

Spencer grinned at her leap in logic. “Oh, yes, you’ll do nicely as a sex slave. I always liked a little spunk in the bedroom.”

There was a commotion outside the door, and the strong man pushed Jimmy into the office. “He said he’s willing to give you what you want.”

“No!” Lois shouted. “Jimmy, no!”

“Shut up!” Spencer Spencer snapped at Lois as he looked the young photographer up and down. “I don’t know…” He turned to the thug. “Blow!” He refocused his attention on Jimmy after the thug had left. “Mess up, and she’ll look like a goalie for a dart team.”

“Okay, Spencer, here’s the deal,” announced Jimmy. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but Lois has to be set free.”

“What?” Spencer responded, surprised.

“Jimmy!” Lois pleaded. She didn’t want him to lose his head.

“How good of shape are you in?” Spencer asked him.

“I’m drug free. I eat well. I exercise. My body is in top condition,” Jimmy bragged with some embellishment.

“No, he’s not. Jimmy lives on pizza and junk food. He gets winded running down the block…”

“Lois,” Jimmy groaned, shooting her a pleading look.

“I think you should also know, this man is insane,” she told Spencer.

“Lois!” her partner scolded her.

“That really doesn’t matter, honey. I’m not going to need his head,” Spencer reminded her. “How old are you, kid?” he questioned Jimmy.

“What?” the young photographer exclaimed with a frightened glance at Lois. “What did he mean by that?”

“Jimmy,” Lois warned.

“How old are you?” Spencer repeated to the young man, taking another look at him. “And take off your shirt.” He glanced over at Lois. “Your other boyfriend is what thirty? Older?”

“I’m twenty-two.” Jimmy slowly started to unbutton his shirt and murmured to Lois under his breath, “What does he want exactly?”

“Your body,” Lois murmured back with a head bob towards the picture behind Spencer. “Literally.”

Her partner’s eyes popped wide open as his hands went up defensibly. “Well, you caught me, Spencer. It’s just like she said. I use drugs all the time. If it isn’t prepackaged and full of chemicals, I don’t eat it. I never exercise. I have heartburn and diabetes. The doctors have given me six months to live.”

Lois rolled her eyes. Jimmy lied worse than Clark. Correction. No one lied worse than Clark.

Thanks.

“Pescado! Get your butt in here!” Spencer yelled and a dark-haired man wearing a suit sauntered in. He didn’t look like an average everyday thug. “How much time have I got?”

“The way your vitals are going, sir, forty-eight hours. Possibly less,” replied the man with a Spanish accent. “Then you’ll be too sick to operate.”

Lois swallowed. This man was Spencer’s doctor?

“He isn’t the specimen I wanted…” Spencer looked Jimmy over once again. “I’d hoped I’d be taller… Nevertheless, Doctor, prep for surgery.”

“Let Lois go,” Jimmy pleaded for her again. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

The psycho magazine publisher grinned at Jimmy. “I’m not letting her go. You wanted to have sex with her. I’m giving you this chance.”

Jimmy gulped. He shot Lois an apologetic glance as the strongman thug returned and hauled her friend away.

***

Lois paced back and forth in her cell. She had to help Jimmy. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if they cut off his head.

Think, Lois. How can you get out of here? Did you check the door to the cage? Clark suggested.

“What? Did Superman heat-blast it or something?” she muttered out loud, because she was alone in the room.

I don’t think they shut it properly.

Lois walked to the door and sure enough, the cage door had closed, but not enough to latch. “I love you, Clark!” she cheered.

I love you too, honey, but I’d prefer not to be married to a former sex slave.

She ignored Clark’s comment as she crossed to the door of the room and peered out. Up a floor and down a hall, she found the operating room, where they were still prepping Jimmy for surgery. He was strapped down to a surgical table. Somehow she was going to have to get into that room.

As she snuck around a corner, Lois found Pescado’s nurse getting dressed. Finding a lose brick, Lois knocked the woman out and stole her surgical garb, including a cap and mask to hide her hair and face.

Lois walked into the operating room and glanced down at Jimmy. He looked up at her, fear in his eyes as he begged for mercy. She winked to let him know it was her.

Jimmy tugged at his straps, trying to get free.

Some vote of confidence there, Jimbo.

Pescado was checking the equipment. “Heidi, check his bindings,” he ordered.

Lois nodded, crossing to the far side of the operating table, where she loosened instead of tightened the straps that held Jimmy’s wrists and head down.

The doctor turned to young man holding up a syringe.

“Time to go nighty-night,” said Spencer with glee from his box behind Pescado.

“After I get his head off,” Pescado explained to Spencer. “I’ll freeze his body with liquid nitrogen.” He pointed to the tank above Jimmy.

Jimmy gulped and shot another panicked glance at Lois as the doctor cleaned his neck once more.

Lois came up beside the doctor, trying to think of a way to distract the man.

“After I finish giving him this shot, Heidi, I want you to hand me the scalpel,” Dr. Pescado informed her.

She nodded – as she was pretending to be Heidi the nurse after all – and set her hands down on the tray of surgical instruments. Jimmy flinched as Pescado pinched his arm to pop a vein for the tranquilizer, but Lois hit the doctor over the head with the tray before he could inject it into Jimmy’s arm. She grabbed the syringe, stabbing the doctor with it instead.

“Guards!” shouted Spencer. “Get this woman out of here!”

Jimmy unfastened the rest of his bindings and pulled himself up with the cord to the liquid nitrogen.

“Jimmy, no!” Lois screamed, diving over the table and knocking him off to the other side. The operating table fell down next to them.

The cold liquid air blew onto the doctor instead, freezing him as he passed out from the sedative, and he thudded down to the floor.

“Admit it, Lois, you like…” Jimmy started to say, before the first shot rang out.

The room was filling with a nitrogen fog and the guards couldn’t see at whom or what they were shooting. Lois pulled the operating table between them and the doorway. She and Jimmy hid behind it as bullets bounced around every surface of the room. They heard a thunk and the shooting stopped.

“Superman?” Lois whispered in hopeful disbelief, her heart banging against her ribcage.

They peered over the top of the table and saw a man standing in the foggy doorway with the two guards knocked out at his feet. As the fog cleared a little bit, Jimmy said, “Dad?”

Dad?

The man crossed his arms, staring at Lois and Jimmy. “A little far from home, aren’t you, son?”

“I’m on assignment,” Jimmy responded stiffly, climbing to his feet. “Lois and I came to check out a romantic island resort.”

Mr. Olsen took an obvious gaze around the destroyed room and raised a brow. “How does it rate?”

“I’m going to give it a fail,” Jimmy said, turning to his partner and holding out a hand to help her up. “Lois?”

“Definitely,” she said, still wondering how Mr. Olsen, so-called structural engineer, had found them.

“Romantic?” Mr. Olsen examined Lois with his eyes again.

She pressed her lips together at the obvious once-over as she took Jimmy’s outstretched hand and got to her feet.

“Lois is the woman I’m going to marry,” Jimmy announced, tossing a joking grin towards Lois, taunting her to deny it to his father. He must have heard that crack about him torturing her down in the dungeon.

Mr. Olsen craned around his son to take a better look at her. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Lois replied, matter-of-factly, calling Jimmy’s bluff.

“What?” gasped Jimmy.

What?! Clark sputtered at the same time.

“If neither of us find the person of our dreams by the time I’m forty, Jimmy has graciously offered to marry me, so we don’t die alone, and I have accepted,” she explained.

Lois, that’s a dinosaur sized bone!

~He offered to lose his head to save me. Anyway, I have already found the man of my dreams,~ she told Clark with a self-satisfied smile. ~So, Jimmy will never get his chance.~

“Well, then, I guess I should introduce myself,” Jimmy’s father said, holding out his hand. “Jack Olsen.”

“Lois Lane.” She shook his hand.

“Who’s the guy is in the box?” Jack asked with a nod towards Spencer Spencer.

The liquid nitrogen fog had dissipated enough for her to see over to the back corner of the room where Spencer Spencer had been located. He was dead. Shot through the head by one of his guard’s bullets. Heidi was crying over the frozen body of Dr. Pescado.

Lois and Jimmy exchanged a look and she decided to let him field that answer.

“Spencer Spencer,” Jimmy replied. “He wanted to attach his head to my body.”

Jack raised a brow to that information. “Well, it looks like I got here just in time,” he said, wrapping an awkward arm around his son’s shoulders. It was an uncomfortable embrace that ended seconds later.

“How exactly did you do that, by the way?” Lois asked, following the two men out of the operating room.

Jack shrugged. “The watch I gave Jimmy has a GPS – or Global Positioning System – device on it. I just homed in on the watch. When I dropped by the office to ask you to lunch, son, Mr. White said he didn’t know where you were, because you were supposed to be at work.”

“On assignment with my partner Lois Lane, Investigative Reporter,” Jimmy answered. “I guess Perry didn’t get my message.”

“Then Lois’ boyfriend showed up, looking for her…”

Lois rolled her eyes. Lovely. Just what she needed.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Jimmy grumbled. “Wait! My watch.” He turned around and pulled it off the inert wrist of the strongman. “Thank you,” he told the man before dropping his arm back on the ground.

“But why would you look for us?” Lois wasn’t convinced she was being told the whole story. “How could you get here so quickly?”

Jack Olsen smiled with a shrug. “I have friends.”

“Friends?”

“My dad’s ex-army, Fort Truman, remember. He’s got friends everywhere,” Jimmy responded by way of an explanation. Sometimes he could be so naïve. “Oh, Dad, remind me to tell you what Dr. Golden did to me.”

Lois still wasn’t convinced by Jack’s vague tale. “Tell me more, Jack.”

“What matters is that you two are safe,” replied Jack with more evasion.

“Who do you work for again?” Lois questioned.

“Olsen Civil Engineering.”

Uh-huh.

“Dad blows up some of the biggest stuff in the world,” Jimmy gushed.

Lois didn’t doubt the validity of that statement.

“Your boyfriend… Dan,” Jack said, not giving up on that title for Scardino yet, even though she had. “ – was worried because after the DEA raided the Love Fortress corporate offices, he found information that Spencer Spencer – I liked the exposé, by the way – lives on a private island east of Rio, near where the two of you – Dan and you, that is – were supposed to be spending this weekend. Since you hadn’t come to work either, we agreed it was too many coincidences.”

“On assignment,” replied Lois. “Thankfully Jimmy stepped in when Dan backed out at the last minute.” She smiled at her friend.

Jimmy shrugged. “Some of us prefer to spend the weekend with a live woman to headless dead men,” he replied, trying for casual but not quite carrying it off.

“I called a few old army buddies and presto, here I am.” Jack sighed. “And you didn’t even need me.”

“Of course, I need you, Dad!” Jimmy clarified. “If you hadn’t clobbered those thugs…”

Lois jumped in. “We could use a lift home.” If he gave them that, she would be willing to overlook his preposterous cover story. For now.

“I’ve got a heli outside,” Jack said, nodding in the direction they should go.

Good riddance, Love Fortress! Hello, Smallville!

***

Chapter Thirteen

Back at her apartment, Lois sat on her sofa. She was freshly showered and happy to be home; yet, at the same time, itching to be off.

“Lois, I’m really sorry about your island vacation,” Perry apologized to her over the telephone. “I’m sure you’re too overwrought to put words…”

“I’m sending you the story as we speak,” she interrupted, clicking ‘send’ on her laptop.

“Terrific!” her boss said with enthusiastic relief. “Will I see you two in the office tomorrow?”

“Well, I don’t know about Jimmy; after all he was the one who was almost beheaded. I was just being recruited as an unwilling sex slave,” she said, finally able to laugh about their experiences. She shook her head. Sometimes her life was stranger than fiction. “I believe Jimmy said he was going to catch up with his dad. Me? I’m ready for that vacation you tried to sell me on before this whole mess. I’m taking a week… no, two. I need to clear my head, reset my priorities.”

“Two whole weeks? On vacation? You?” Perry couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Lois, honey, Dan is good for you. If it wasn’t for him…”

“Chief, please. Don’t defend him. When it comes down to it, he wasn’t there for me when he said he would be. If it hadn’t been for Jimmy, my cobra-venom filled, sexually assaulted body would be washing up on the shores of Metropolis.” She thought about the tiger. “Or worse.” Then she reviewed those choices again. Nope, she would have rather been eaten by the tiger.

“Okay, Lois, let’s not sugar coat things… “ Perry continued. “You know my thoughts on this subject. You sure you want to go off on your own, right now?”

“Why? Does some other psycho billionaire, who I don’t know about, got it out for me?” she scoffed. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Chief. I plan on looking up an old friend.” Lois typed Kansas into her map program on her laptop as someone knocked on her door. “Got to go; my dinner’s arrived. See you in two weeks.” She hung up the phone and walked to the door. Glancing through the peep-hole, she saw a large pizza box. “I ordered Chinese!” she said to the person on the other side of the door.

The pizza box lowered and was replaced by a large box of chocolates. She could see Dan’s hopeful face peering over the top of it.

“No, thank you,” she said through the door, not opening it. “I gave at the office.” She returned to her laptop and typed in a request for directions from the Topeka airport to Smallville.

“Lois,” Dan called. “Open up, babe. We need to talk.”

Babe? Is he nuts?

“Apparently,” she grumbled, still ignoring the man at her door.

“Lo-is!”

“Dan,” she said, not getting up from her seat. “The last man who called me ‘babe’ is currently underground at Whispering Pines Cemetery. For your safety, it’s not recommended that I open the door.” True, she hadn’t killed Ralph herself, but dead he was.

“Lo-is,” Dan pleaded again. “Let me apologize.”

“No.”

“Please give me a second chance.”

“Second? You blew your second chance months ago, buster,” Lois retorted.

“Lois, can we please not have this conversation through the door,” Dan begged.

With a groan, Lois stood up and walked to her front door. She unfastened her locks and swung open the door. “Dan, I don’t want to see you anymore. Whatever I felt for you is gone.”

His face fell. “What?”

“I don’t love you. It’s not working between us. I’m with someone else now,” Lois stated coldly, starting to shut the door. She had no patience left.

“Who?” Dan growled, sticking his foot in the doorway. “And don’t dare tell me it’s Clark…”

“Jimmy,” she replied without hesitation.

Jimmy?

“Jimmy? That kid?” Dan scoffed.

“Jimmy’s a man. I’m a woman. Do I need to draw you a diagram?!”

“He tried to kill you!” he reminded her.

“Irrelevant.” She waved a hand through the air, wiping away that issue. “Maybe it could have been you, but it wasn’t. You had more important things to do than spend an uninterrupted weekend alone with me. So, you see, it’s over between us. I can’t go back. I’d much rather be with a man who’s there for me even when there aren’t bombs going off and people trying to kill me. Please leave.” She kicked his foot out of her doorway and shut the door in Dan’s shocked face. She relocked her locks and returned to her laptop.

Lucky Jimmy.

“Dan told me not to tell him it was you,” Lois replied. “So, I gave him what he asked for.”

Um… Lois…

“No, Clark, nothing happened with Jimmy. Never been there, never going there, would rather die,” she said, scrolling down the screen.

I don’t think Dan asked for that, Lois. You didn’t have to embellish the truth.

“What? You want me to call him back and apologize?” she scoffed. “Fat chance. That man never takes ‘no’ for an answer. I had to phrase it in a way that he knew that my ‘no’ meant ‘never again’.”

Remind me never to break your heart, Clark gulped.

“I don’t think you’ll ever forget this, Clark,” she mumbled, saving the map and heading to a weather website to check out what she should pack.

I believe you might be right there, Lois.

***

Lois pulled her rental car into a parking space outside the Smallville Diner. She was starving, not having eaten since picking at that in-flight meal. She really ought to start bringing her own food on flights, she told herself. She had thought about driving all the way from Metropolis, but after looking at the map, she determined it would take a minimum of two twelve-hour days in the car – one-way – just to get to Smallville.

She instead dipped into her Tahiti fund and bought herself one coach ticket to Topeka and a week in a convertible, saving herself between forty-eight to ninety-six hours of research time for the extra expense. She didn’t know if she was going to find anything in Smallville. She hoped to find something: a birth record, a death certificate, a school transcript, someone who knew Clark at some point. She needed to know, once and for all, that she wasn’t crazy.

She opened her car door and went into the Smallville Diner. It was just as she pictured it: rows of booths lining the windows and a scattering of free-standing round tables, each covered with a checkered plastic tablecloth. There was also a long counter for individual seating.

“Please Seat Yourself” invited the sign, so she did. There was one booth open in the back by the restrooms. Not ideal, but she didn’t want to sit at the counter. Actually, she was kind of surprised that the diner was still busy at – she glanced at her watch – one forty-five on a Tuesday.

“Hi, there,” the friendly blonde waitress said, sliding a glass of ice-water across the table in front of Lois. “You waiting on someone, hon?”

‘All my life,’ Lois thought, before answering out loud. “Just me.”

“Okay. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Still dressed in her Metropolis clothes, Lois figured she indeed stuck out in the middle of Nowheresville, Kansas. She knew she should have worn her jeans.

“And you’re not here for the cattle auction, are you?” the waitress guessed correctly again.

“That obvious?” Lois joked, more to herself than at the waitress. “Vacation.” She took a sip of her water and accepted the offered menu.

“You driving between Wichita and Topeka?” the woman hazarded a guess. “You’re a little off the beaten path. You lost?”

This waitress asked more questions than Lois had while interviewing the President. Of course, Lois had only been allowed the one question. She pressed her lips together, still wishing she had come up with something better. ‘If you had twenty-four hours to spend doing anything you want, how would you spend them?’

If you were a major league baseball player, which position would you play and why?

~Potato. Tomato,~ Lois retorted.

Lois raised her eyes and focused them on the waitress, realizing that the woman was still next to the table, waiting for her answer. What had she asked? The waitress’s hair was styled differently and she was wearing a uniform instead of jeans, but – Lois blanched – this woman had been in her dream. Lois searched her brain trying to remember the woman’s name. Then she noticed her nametag: Maisie. Of course! “Neither,” she informed her.

Maisie knows everything about everyone. If there’s information to be had in Smallville, Maisie has it, Clark whispered in her ear. Tread carefully.

Lois couldn’t believe her good luck. “I’m searching for a friend of mine. I’ve misplaced him,” she continued, dismissing Clark’s groan of humiliation.

Maisie eyed her skeptically and Lois had to agree with her assessment. Only someone like Clark – a one in a million type man – would know two such different women.

Lois pulled her gaze away from Maisie’s to the menu, deciding it was best not show her hand too soon. “So, what’s good?”

“Everything,” Maisie informed her. “But we’re out of pulled pork and meatloaf. Oh, and the peach pie. The cattlemen wiped us out.”

Lois took another quick glance at the menu. “I’ll take a burger, fries and…” She flipped a page. “Is that real ice cream shakes?” she asked in amazement and saw a softening of Maisie’s hard expression. “Chocolate, please.” At least, she wasn’t one of those city girls.

Maisie took the menu and disappeared behind the counter. Lois retrieved a notebook from her briefcase and started to review everything and everyone she could remember from when she and Clark had come to Smallville to investigate the “EPA” digging up Wayne Irig’s farm.

Wayne Irig. Martha and Jonathan Kent. Rachel Harris. Lois added Maisie’s name to the list.

Wayne’s my dad’s best friend and neighbor, Clark had told her when they had come to Smallville in her dream.

Clark had taken Rachel – now Sheriff Harris – to the prom. It wasn’t much to go on, but Lois had somewhere to start. Back on the island she had started to jot down everything personal she had learned about Clark since he had started at the Daily Planet. She decided to review these facts again now.

He was a year older than her, so born in 1966, graduated high school in 1984. He had played football at Midwest University and graduated with a degree in journalism, probably in 1988. Lois made notes. How did he pay for college: football scholarship or student loans?

Before that, Clark had grown up on his parents’ farm in Smallville, and after college he had traveled the world, including Borneo, Nigeria, England, and China. Where else would he have picked up Chinese? Can one pick up Chinese? Had he studied the language in college? He also knew French. Lois added France to the list.

She glanced up as Maisie set down her chocolate shake. The diner had almost cleared out in that time. “Where did everyone go?” she asked the waitress in awe. “Was it something I said?”

Maisie chuckled. “Cattle auction. All week. Next auction starts up at two thirty.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained it, she thought before another brainchild struck her. “It’s not as crazy as the Smallville Corn Fair, is it?”

“Festival,” Maisie corrected before going on to reassure her. “Oh, no. It’s fairly tame. The cowboys can get rowdy at night, but other than the extra mouths to feed and more trucks in town, most people wouldn’t notice them.”

Lois released a breath of relief. “I’ll be in town a few days. Is there a hotel you can recommend?”

Maisie looked at her with pity. “Oh, honey. We’ve only got the Gold Nugget Motel out by the state road, on the edge of town. I wouldn’t recommend it to the likes of you, anyway.”

The woman from Metropolis didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved. Had there been a gold rush in Kansas? Must be a ‘nugget’ of golden corn.

“Plus it’s probably booked up with cowboys,” Maisie continued. “And we’ve got the smaller Smallville Inn here in downtown. It’s a bit pricier, but nicer too.”

‘Thank God!’ Lois thought.

“But I happen to know it’s full up with ranchers this week.”

Her heart dropped. Crap. The nearest town was forty-five minutes away. “Terrific,” Lois grumbled. “Isn’t there anywhere else? A bed and breakfast? A room I could rent for the week? Something?”

“Well…” Maisie hemmed and hawed.

“Anything!” Lois pleaded. She could tell Maisie knew of a place and the reporter leaned forward in anticipation.

“Some friends of mine have kind of a working farm vacation resort thing. You know where city folk pay to come and pay to work, eat, and sleep on a real farm. It’s not really a BnB, although food’s included. You earn your keep. Doing chores, collecting eggs, milking cows, and the like.”

That forty-five minute commute wasn’t looking too shabby in light of her only option for staying close to town.

“I can call and see if they have room,” Maisie volunteered.

“Can you ask your friends if I can pay extra instead of doing chores?” Lois suggested. Chores would dig into her precious research time. She had come to Smallville to look for Clark, not to get her farm on.

“I don’t know if she’ll accept, but I’ll ask. I know funds are limited and the chores a plenty since the accident,” Maisie responded with a sigh.

Accident?

A ding of a bell announced Lois’ burger was ready and her stomach growled in response.

Less than a minute later, Maisie set down the plate and a bottle of ketchup. “Who’s your friend? Maybe I can point you in the right direction?”

Lois took a bite of a thick steak fry and moaned with satisfaction as she pondered her choices.

This was it. Either Maisie would tell her what she wanted to know or protect her own, as Clark said people were apt to do. With Clark dead – Lois winced every time she thought those words, because her heart contracted in physical pain – what possible reason was there for Maisie or anyone to hide? Still, Lois didn’t want to say his name. What if she hit a brick wall? But – on the other hand – how was she going to find out any information if she kept Clark’s name to herself?

Not yet, Lois. We don’t know how or when I died. It’s best if you do some digging first before asking questions.

Lois decided that Clark was probably right about erring on the side of caution. It wasn’t her usual form, but this wasn’t her typical case. She wouldn’t want to spook anyone by dropping Clark’s full name too soon, no matter how tempting it was to know if Miss Know-It-All Smallville had heard of him. On the other hand, she hadn’t come half-way across the country to not ask the hard questions. “I’m looking for a friend of mine who went missing, someone named…” She pressed her lips together and then exhaled. “Kent,” Lois finally spit out.

Maisie gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, hon. I don’t know any Kent in Smallville. Let me go call The Farm and see if they’ve got room for you.” She knocked on the table, despite it being Formica instead of wood, and took a few steps back towards the kitchen before stopping. The waitress turned back to Lois and asked, “You don’t mean Martha and Jonathan Kent?” Then she waved that idea out of the air. “Nah, the Kents aren’t missing. I’m betting you mean someone with the first name Kent, right?” She shrugged and continued on to the diner’s kitchen.

Lois felt like she had fallen through the ice of a frozen pond. The French fry in her mouth was calling to be swallowed, but instead she coughed it out into her hand. She started to shake as the icy shivers and goose bumps overtook her. She pressed her frozen hands to her face only to remove them from the sweating heat she found there.

Clark Kent was real. His hometown existed. His parents lived there. Lois was getting closer to Clark with every moment. Would she really find him?

You’re the best reporter Metropolis has ever seen.

There had to be some record of Clark somewhere. She couldn’t have created all these facts out of thin air.

She took a bite of her burger to warm herself up.

Maisie didn’t return until Lois had finished. “I talked to Martha. She says she has room. She doesn’t know of any local Kents beside her and her husband Jonathan. Are you sure it’s ‘Kent’? There’s Ken Small of the Smallville Smalls, but if I were you…” Maisie lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t seek him out. He’s a few ears short of a bushel, if you know what I mean.”

Lois nodded even though her brain went numb at Martha’s name. “Martha? Is that Martha Kent?”

“Yes. How do you know Martha?” Maisie inquired suspiciously. Then she rolled her eyes and answered her own question, “Oh, right, I mentioned the Kents earlier, silly me.”

“You said that there had been an accident,” Lois probed.

“Jonathan broke his spine a few years back and can’t walk. He’s stuck in a wheelchair. It’s been tough going for a while and they sold off a fair portion of the farm to the Irigs. Plus, Martha’s had to take over most of the duties at the farm herself. She hires hands when she can, but everyone else has their own lands. They hit upon this B&B idea. They are the sweetest couple. I promise you’ll love them.” The waitress grinned. “They make me believe in true love, even if I haven’t found it for myself.” Masie noticed a new customer walk into the diner and went to greet them.

Lois set both of her hands on the table to steady herself. Jonathan was in a wheelchair? Martha had taken over the farm work? They rent out their house to guests? They’ve sold part of the farm? She tried to take deep breaths but somehow she started hyperventilating instead. The room began to swim.

Lois, please. I need you to be calm.

At hearing how uneven Clark’s usually composed voice sounded, she got control over the tears filling her eyes and was able to breathe again. ~I’m fine.~ She wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to let Clark know it.

Maisie walked back up. “But if you don’t feel like chores, I can call Lawrence and see if they have room at their motel.” She gave Lois a grimace as if she didn’t recommend it.

Lawrence? Oh, right; that was the name of that town forty-five minutes away. “No, I’ll stay with Kents. Who knows, maybe they have a handsome son or farmhand for me to fall in love with,” Lois insinuated, knowing full well that Clark was their son.

“Nope, they never had any children and, sorry, all the hunky farmers in town are taken.” Maisie winked at Lois. “Martha’s hired Owen Poister as a farmhand…” She raised a lip in disapproval. “Sweet as can be, but I don’t think you’d find him much to look at.”

Lois’ jaw dropped as Maisie’s words echoed in her mind. They never had any children. How could that be? Clark had to exist. He had to. There were too many coincidences for this one fact to be wrong: Clark’s landlord in Metropolis, Clark’s parents, Maisie, the Irigs, and Smallville for heaven’s sake. No, Clark existed, and Lois wouldn’t rest until she got to the bottom of why nobody knew about it.

***

Lois got the directions to the Kent’s farm from Maisie. Even though Lois had been there in her dreams, it wasn’t like she had driven.

Clark was being his usual reticent self. She didn’t have a problem with that – him still being a voice inside her head and all, a voice which she seemed to follow blindly and argue with occasionally. It wasn’t like she had put two and two together and come up with sixty-four. She knew hearing Clark’s voice – and Superman’s that odd time or two – wasn’t normal… or sane.

And Lois wasn’t following Clark’s commands like some nutso with an AK-47. He hadn’t suggested that she go to Smallville. That had been her idea and her idea alone. She had still kissed Scardino despite Clark’s objections. So, in her opinion, in spite of everything, she was in full control of her mental capacities.

Clark wasn’t the type of man to beg or coerce or belittle or be nasty. Not in her dreams and not as a voice from beyond. Lois always liked that he had this quiet confidence about him, as if he was in on some big world secret – like he was the President’s son or something – that was his “get out of jail free” card. He would never cash it in. He wanted to make it on his own merits, but knowing it was there as his back-up plan made him daring and was part of his charm.

In her dream-life and in reality, Clark was the only one in the office – save Perry – who stood his ground when she went on one of her rampages. He was the only one willing to tell her ‘no’ to her face. She trusted him. He seemed only to fear for her safety. So when she had one of her cockamamie plans, instead of trying to talk her out of it until he was blue in the face, Clark just usually went along. Maybe he had Superman’s unlisted phone number.

Then Lois laughed, glancing down at the directions that Maisie wrote out on the napkin. Lois had forgotten for a moment that Superman was just a figment of her imagination in these dreams, a way for her subconscious to point her towards the bad that Lex had done in her real life. Her latest dream – point of fact – seemed to disprove this theory though, because in it Lex wasn’t the bad guy. He had been the victim. Lois shook off this thought.

Apocalypse Consulting. She had found the story on her spoil-herself-rotten night at the Lexor. She treated herself after enduring several weeks of sleepless nights at home after Ralph had forced himself on her. The Lexor was a treat, indeed: silk sheets, a big screen television, a sunken tub, a huge gift basket of snacks, and Security just a phone call away. Everything that a woman needed to pamper herself.

Lois had been in said sunken tub, relaxing in a bubble bath when Lex had called and offered her company. No, thank you, she had explained again.

Actually, she hadn’t treated herself. It had been Lex who had proposed that she spend the night at the Lexor after she explained what had happened with Ralph, and she had taken him up on the offer. She had insisted on paying for it herself but found the room comped “care of management” when she had arrived. Only when Lex had asked about the view had she noticed Congressmen Harrington in the building across the street. Luckily, she had her briefcase with accoutrements handy.

Perry had put her and Jimmy undercover the next few nights as a honeymooning couple. Lois doubted anyone actually believed them to be a real couple. Not the front desk clerk. Not the bellhop. Not the maid. Especially since Cat had accompanied them to demonstrate all the toys with which the honeymoon suite came equipped. The writer of Cat’s Corner had to see for herself Lois and Jimmy as a married couple.

Lois had decided not to tell Lex about the investigation, not wanting to look like she was using his gift with another man. She didn’t care that everyone else knew. Lois refused to share the room or story with any other reporter but Jimmy. Between Claude and Ralph, it was amazing she was willing to trust another reporter again.

I’m not like them.

“I know,” she whispered.

Her mind drifted back to last night’s dream. Lois could say this much for Clark, he was much better company than Jimmy, who didn’t like to play games and only wanted to watch mind-numbing TV.

Lois had still broken into Apocalypse Consulting alone, just as she had in real life, but this time the sprinklers went off, drenching the offices and herself. She hadn’t had time to find the video of the tsunami and warn Lex because of it or discover that her credit card had fallen out of her bag. She also ended up tied up on the docks with Congressman Harrington before she could nail his sorry butt to the front page for taking bribes. Luckily, Clark found them and Superman was there to save the day.

“Clark,” she murmured with a sigh.

Her mind now meandered back to the dreamy kiss they shared on the hotel bed because the maid had barged in on them. Somehow Clark had known… Maybe he hadn’t… Perhaps he had thrown the camera and Lois onto the bed as an excuse to kiss her and the maid just happened to walk in at that point and time.

You know I’d never have done that, Clark whispered.

“No, you aren’t the type of man to tell a woman you love her,” she snapped. “Especially with your lips.”

What are you mad at me for?

“Why do you think?”

Only silence answered her angry retort.

Lois sighed before finally replying to his question, “You didn’t kiss me because you wanted to, Clark. You kissed me as a distraction.”

I was just doing what you asked.

“Asked? I asked you to kiss me? Ha! I never did any such thing, and you know it.”

Suddenly a memory from her undercover stint at Metro Club flashed across her brain…

Clark tossed Lois over his shoulder as she struggled to get free. That no-good partner of hers.

“You’ll pay for this, Kent. I swear you will,” Lois informed him in no uncertain terms.

“It’s King, remember,” Clark hissed back at her with a spank to her bottom.

“Benedict Arnold is more like it,” she mumbled as the door of the club opened and one of Toni’s henchmen watched.

“Make sure you throw out that trash,” the henchman said.

“I had no choice,” Clark told Lois as he walked her away from the backdoor.

“You had a choice!” Duh! “You could have pretended that we were sharing some fleeting moment of passion, but you didn’t think of that, did you? No!”

“No, but I’ll remember it the next time we’re in a closet,” Clark retorted as he paused in front of the two dumpsters behind the club.

“Don’t even think about it,” she told him.

“It’s for your own good, believe me.”

“No! No! Nooooooooooooo!” she screamed, as he dumped her unceremoniously onto a pile of rotten vegetables.

“So that night at the Lexor was you ‘pretending that we were sharing a fleeting moment of passion’?”

It was only fleeting because you weren’t ready for it to be any longer.

“I knew I was right. You didn’t want to kiss me at all. I was just a distraction,” Lois said, her voice rougher than it should be when one argued with someone who wasn’t there.

Trust me, Lois, I wanted to.

“How? How can I trust you, Clark?” Lois threw up a hand in disgust. “You’re just a voice inside my head. Probably not even Clark’s real voice, just my wishful imagination supplying answers to all of my questions.”

Clark sighed. I wish there was a way I could refute that, but there isn’t.

“See, I’m just some wacky woman from Metropolis trying to reconnect with the parents of her ghost boyfriend. So tell me, Clark,” Lois said in her best reporter tone of voice. “If you were really there, describe the kiss from your point of view.”

I didn’t hear any complaints, he recalled.

“Exactly!” Lois shook her head.

What’s that supposed to mean?

What kind of lunkhead was this guy she had fallen in love with anyway? Did she have to spell it out for him? “If you didn’t hear any complaints, why did you stop kissing me?”

Oh.

~Oh?~

You do realize that these feelings you have for me now, aren’t how you feel about me in these dreams, right?

“I guess you’ll never know that for sure, now will you?” she shouted into the dead air. Sadly, Lois had to admit Clark was right… to a point. Not that she would ever say so verbally. She didn’t do that.

Even though Clark was the sweetest, kindest, most open, most honest, genuine, most all-around good guy she had ever met, he had already hurt the dream her – on several occasions. True, they were all unintentional, but that didn’t stop her heart from aching. It didn’t stop him from inadvertently nudging her towards other men, men who couldn’t hurt her with their unattainability.

The first time was when Clark told her, albeit teasingly, that he wasn’t attracted to her, while being exposed to pheromones, after she had thrown herself at him. Secondly, when he kissed her and then abandoned her during the heat wave. And thirdly, at the Lexor, when he kissed her… and stopped kissing her as soon as the maid had left, not a minute later to make sure the maid wasn’t coming back, but the instant the door had shut. He had just gotten up and picked up the camera like nothing had happened.

Lois herself had laid there and had to catch her breath for at least five seconds, because that was what kissing Clark did. It took her breath away. It was why she kept thinking about his kisses outside of her dreams. It was why she was lost in the middle of nowhere trying to determine if he had truly lived, so she could start to work on how to figure out how to stop him from dying… in the past. So she could make this dream man a reality.

She hated that in these dreams she treated Clark as a buddy and Lex as an ideal. True, she had been attracted to the scumbag in real life as well. What Lois just didn’t understand was how she still could be fascinated with Lex in these dreams after everything she had learned about the man? Why would her subconscious still like Lex with Clark standing right next to her? Those aspects of the dreams felt more like nightmares.

How she could still go and have dinner with Lex after confessing – under the influence of Revenge – her true feelings for Clark? She knew that her feelings had been real. Even her dream self knew, though she tried to deny it to herself. Liking Clark scared her in the way liking the unattainable Lex Luthor or Superman didn’t. Clark was within her reach, and because of that, she was within his. Lois knew that if she let Clark touch her, he would have the ability to hurt her more than someone like Lex or Superman ever could. Her dream-self knew somehow that these two men would never open their hearts fully to her, that they would always be holding something back from her… it was what attracted her, the mystery behind the closed door. Clark had no mystery. What was it that dream Maisie had said about him? Oh, yeah. “What you see is what you get.”

Lois had once asked Clark which power he would rather have invisibility or flight… She had always thought invisibility was the answer. Now she wondered if her true answer should be x-ray vision. If she could see into the soul of men and see whether or not they were good or evil… Now that would be a superpower worth having.

Thinking of superpowers reminded her of Superman and his super-duper kiss from the tarmac after he caught Miranda’s Revenge plane. She didn’t have long to revel, because there was the sign pointing to The Farm’s driveway.

About time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lois questioned, once more focusing on her driving.

Do you have to drool over Superman all the time?

“I didn’t ask you to eavesdrop on my thoughts,” she rebutted. “And it’s not ‘all the time’.”

Lois, I don’t have access to your memories, only to what you are currently actively thinking about. The way you were thinking about that kiss with the Man of Steel…

“I bet he is,” Lois moaned.

Really makes me feel that you lied to me about being numero uno on your list.

She bit her bottom lip as she pulled up next to a truck. “I bet you’d look hot in the blue suit too,” she murmured suggestively.

Lois! Clark squeaked. My folks!

Lois threw up her hands. ~Where? Where are your folks? Right. Not anywhere where they can hear me arguing with their dead son. If you’re going to insist on being persnickety, I’ll just stick with our inner dialogue,~ she grumbled. ~I hope we find out how you died soon, so I can get you out of my head and return my thought setting to private.~

Clark didn’t respond as she climbed out of her car and popped the trunk to retrieve her suitcase.

The farm and farmhouse looked pretty much the same as it had when she and Clark had visited in her dreams. Perhaps not as well maintained, but Lois hadn’t expected it to be without Clark. It felt weird walking up to a real house that she had dreamed about, but never before visited in real life. She got that eerie feeling she had when she had visited Clark’s apartment that first time.

Her gaze fell onto the new wheelchair accessible ramp built onto the front porch and suddenly Jonathan’s accident seemed more real than the gossip at the diner. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She needed to keep in control of her emotions. Okay, here went everything.

As Lois shut the trunk, she spied Martha coming out of the house. She was just as Lois dreamed her to be. Martha smiled. It was a friendly smile, but it was nowhere as reminiscent of the smile Lois had first seen on the woman’s face in her dreams. This woman might have her great big love in Jonathan, but Lois could see she wasn’t complete. Like her, Martha wasn’t whole without Clark.

“Hi, I’m Martha Kent,” Martha said, holding out her hand. “Maisie said she had sent us a tourist from town. I didn’t catch your name, though.”

Lois walked up the steps of the house, wanting nothing more than to envelop this woman in her arms in their shared loss.

“Honey, is everything all right?” Martha asked.

It was then that Lois realized that one of tears she had been pushing down deep inside her had escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Fine,” she croaked. “Dust.”

“Oh. Sorry. Dirt road. It gets like that in the summer,” Martha said with a shrug, leading the woman from Metropolis into her home.

Jonathan rolled his wheelchair into the living room. “Hello,” he said before holding out his hand. “Jonathan Kent. Welcome to The Farm.”

Lois reached to shake his hand, trying to keep her emotions in check. There were so many filling her she didn’t know where one started and the next one ended. Guilt. Heartache. Loneliness. Love. Happiness. And then back to guilt. She didn’t know if the emotions were entirely her own or if Clark’s agony at seeing his father in a wheelchair was affecting her – or if it was a mixture of both. “Lois Lane,” she finally sputtered.

Jonathan rolled back to let her pass. “Where are you from, Ms. Lane?”

“Lois, please,” she corrected him, sitting down on the couch so that they would be eye-level. “Metropolis.”

“You’re far from home,” Martha replied.

Lois nodded and gazed around the living room. She remembered distinctly seeing memories and keepsakes of Clark’s while at the Kent house in her dreams, but now there was not one photo of Clark. Had they erased him from their lives? She couldn’t picture Martha or Jonathan doing anything like that. They loved their son so much. Maybe they just didn’t keep his photos out where their guests could see them and ask uncomfortable questions.

“Can I ask what happened?” Lois inquired, doing just that.

Jonathan shrugged. “I fell off a ladder while painting the barn. Stupid, really…”

“Jonathan!” Martha admonished him. “Accidents happen. They don’t make one stupid.”

Lois touched Jonathan’s arm briefly. “I’m sorry.”

I should have been here.

“Maisie said you were looking for a man,” Martha inquired with a glance at her husband. “A man named Kent.”

Jonathan chuckled, taking hold of his wife’s hand. “I hope you’re not disappointed, but I’m already taken.”

“The Kent I’m looking for is closer to my age,” Lois answered with a wink at Jonathan. “Perhaps you have a handsome son you’re squirreling away in the basement…”

Martha stopped behind Jonathan’s chair, her hand griping her husband’s shoulder. “I wish,” she said, her voice rough. “I can’t have children.”

Jonathan covered her hand with his. “We can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Lois instantly apologized for her tasteless joke. Maisie had told her as much; Lois had just hoped… “I’m sure you would have made a wonderful mother… parents to any child out there.”

“If we ever found a babe…” Martha stopped as both she and Jonathan’s faces drained of color. “Excuse me, I need to…” Her hand covered her mouth and she ran out of the room, clearly overcome.

“It’s been almost thirty years, you’d think…” Jonathan’s voice trailed away. He cleared his throat. “Since we discovered we couldn’t have children,” he explained.

Lois dragged her eyes away from where Martha disappeared into the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…” She dropped back down onto the couch, her chest tightening as she once more held her tears at bay. She wanted so much to share her pain with these people. Share their pain. She hadn’t known for sure until she had seen them deny Clark with her own eyes. They weren’t lying. They had no children.

The reporter stared into Jonathan’s face searching for some clue, some hint of Clark there. Nothing. They looked nothing alike. They didn’t share the same eyes nor build, hair, or complexion. Clark looked nothing like his parents. Yet, Clark existed – she knew that, deep in her heart, that was true. These people were his parents in her dream. She wouldn’t let this setback destroy her goal.

Then the answer smacked her in the face and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before.

“You couldn’t adopt?” Lois said weakly, clutching at this last shred of hope that had just popped into her mind.

“No.” Jonathan shook his head and left it at that. That one word did more to crush her spirit than anything else.

Martha returned and handed Lois a form to fill out: liability release for doing the chores and a price list for the week’s stay. “Meals are included,” Clark’s mom informed her.

The price seemed too fair for people who needed to have strangers do their chores instead of being able to hire more hands. Lois wondered if that was because she was expected to do chores, because they didn’t know better – not that she would ever make that assumption again – or because they needed to keep the price low to attract people to the middle of nowhere in Kansas.

“I really do need some time in town to look…” Lois said before her voice faded. If she couldn’t find Clark here on The Farm, how could she find evidence of him in town? “As I mentioned to Maisie, I’m willing to do chores, just nothing anywhere near the animals. I’d pay more for the exemption,” she offered, hoping they would take her up on it, not only for her sake but theirs. Clark would never forgive her if she had it in her power to help his folks and didn’t.

“That’s not necessary,” Jonathan began to say before Martha interrupted him.

“Of course, it’s necessary. The low price is in exchange for doing chores. If she’s not willing to do chores and is willing to pay for the privilege not to…”

“She said she’d do chores, Martha,” Jonathan argued.

Lois was beginning to suspect that Martha hadn’t burdened her husband the extent of their debt. Maybe it was time to compromise. “How about I pay extra to not do as many chores?”

They negotiated a price that felt more generous to Lois, yet still fair to the Kents. Then they settled down to discuss chores.

“What farm experience do you have?” Jonathan asked.

“None,” Lois replied.

“Do you cook?” Martha inquired.

“Not if you like to eat,” Lois answered.

Martha and Jonathan exchanged a look.

“She can muck stalls,” Martha suggested with a shrug.

“What?!” Lois’ eyes widened and she moved to pick up her bag and bolt for that motel in Lawrence.

Lois, you threw Jimmy a dinosaur bone…

~Fine! But I don’t want to hear word one about my Superman fantasies ever again.~ Lois let go of the handle of her bag.

Deal.

She pressed her lips together, then forced herself to say, “That sounds reasonable.”

Martha seemed impressed by Lois’ quick turnaround. “I’ll show you the ropes tomorrow. Dinner is served at six o’clock sharp. You can clean up afterwards, while I feed the animals. Let me show to your room.”

Lois grabbed her suitcase and followed Martha upstairs. They stopped outside the same room where Lois had stayed previously – in her dreams – Clark’s old room. Lois’ heart began to beat faster in anticipation.

Martha unlocked the door and then handed her a set of keys. “The other key is for the front door. We ask that you restrict your comings and goings to before ten o’clock at night as a courtesy to the other guests. We have breakfast after the animals are fed and the eggs gathered, so around seven in the morning, but that means we meet for coffee at six.” She turned and paused at the stop of the stairs. “And we ask to be notified should you bring home any guests.”

Lois’ jaw dropped before she quickly reassured Martha’s departing backside, “That won’t be happening.”

“Good!” Martha replied from the stairs.

Lois exhaled, carrying her suitcase inside the room and shutting the door. ~You better be worth it,~ she murmured too softly to be considered outside of her thoughts.

She set her suitcase on the chest at the foot of the twin bed and took a glance around the room. She could see nothing of Clark’s. Then again, if his parents were using this as a guest room they probably would have removed anything personal. She sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, once again asking herself what she was doing in Kansas.

“What am I doing, Clark?” she whispered. When he didn’t answer, she said, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

Farm accidents aren’t uncommon. If I had been here…

Clark sounded so lost she wished she could wrap her arms around him. It was his biggest weakness and what she loved most about him, that he cared too much.

Lois clapped her hands together decisively. She couldn’t sit around here crying about things they couldn’t change, when there was research to be done. “Come on, Kent, we’ve got a couple hours left before dinnertime. Let’s run into town and find your birth certificate.” She stood up and picked up her briefcase. Clark didn’t respond.

***

Chapter Fourteen

~What do you mean, you don’t think we should look for your birth certificate?~ Lois hissed at Clark after she parked the car in front of City Hall. She spoke inside her head because she didn’t want to be overheard, since she had the top down on the convertible.

Don’t get upset if you don’t find anything.

~Clark? You want me to find you, don’t you?~

Of course, but… His voice faded.

~But?~

Just don’t be surprised, okay? Anyway, the details of my birth aren’t important. To rescue me, the note said you have to stop me from dying. It’s my death that’s important.

Lois rolled her eyes. Yeah, how was she supposed to concentrate on the day he died, if she had no way of traveling through time to stop it? She dropped her head on the steering wheel.

Lois?

“Time!” she said, flinging up her hands.

A couple walking on the sidewalk turned around and shot her a strange expression.

What?

~Tempus is time!~ she repeated what Eduardo had told her. ~I’m supposed to research time. Time-travel! H.G. Wells… author of…~

‘The Time Machine’! Of course. A hint of Clark’s usual optimism shone through his words before fading again. The dead author of ‘The Time Machine’.

Lois sighed. ~Right.~ She shoved open the door of her rental car, bringing her briefcase with her. ~But since we don’t know on what day you died, let’s start at your birth and work forwards.~

Oh. I see.

She shut and locked her door, which almost seemed pointless with the roof down and, well, being in Smallville. Then again, as she well knew, crime could happen anywhere. She went inside and looked at the directory, finally deciding on Vital Statistics.

Lois approached the clerk at the appropriate counter. “I’m trying to find the birth certificate for a friend of mine. He was born in 1966. I believe he was adopted in Smallville.”

The clerk handed her a form. “It will be fifteen dollars and I’ll need to see a state issued photo ID.”

The out-of-towner looked over the form. ~Clark, what’s your birthday?~

I’m not sure. Adopted, remember.

Lois groaned and filled out Clark’s name on the form and the year. “I’m not quite sure on his birthday,” she said, passing the form back with her driver’s license and cash.

The clerk looked over the form and then raised his eyes to hers. “I don’t know who this guy is you’re looking for, but I can tell you right off the bat that the Kents don’t have any children.”

“Can you just do the search or not?” she asked sharply.

Flies with honey, Lois.

~I don’t like flies, Clark. Why would I offer them honey?~

“I’ll see what I can do,” replied the clerk, gesturing behind her. “Have a seat.”

Lois sat down in a huff. ~You have to have a birth certificate, Clark. Or you couldn’t be issued a driver’s license or a press pass or be able to rent an apartment or get a bank account or attend college or get a passport and travel abroad. All of which I know you’ve done.~

I told you this was a bad idea.

She crossed her arms, annoyed. Why couldn’t Clark just tell her his birthdate? Why hadn’t she looked at his driver’s license the last time he opened his wallet to pay for something? She would have to concentrate on that tonight when she went to sleep, if she could. She had no idea if she could control what she did or looked at or said in her dreams. Probably not, or she wouldn’t act like some virginal school girl every time Superman made an appearance.

I don’t think you act like a blushing school girl with Superman.

~Thoughts. My own!~ she reminded him.

Lois sat for an hour waiting for the clerk to call her back to the window. Alone. Twiddling her thumbs. Bored out of her skull. Clark wasn’t talking to her, and she missed him. Her gaze focused blankly at the generic poster on the wall. The tagline was “Nutrition: It’s Good For You!” Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. The man already had access to her inner most thoughts, fantasies, and dreams, would it really be so bad if he commented with reassurances every once and a while? She was happy that he had. It had reminded her that he was exactly the type of man she had thought he was: good, kind, decent, wholesome, all-American ghost. She sighed and got to her feet as the clerk waved her back to the window.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lane, but there’s no one matching that description born in Smallville in 1966,” he told her.

“Excuse me?” That couldn’t be right. She looked past him to his desk and saw a dusty old book sitting on his desk. He certainly had done the legwork. “Is that the ledger? Can I see it?”

The man shrugged and brought the book to the window, flipping it open to the correct year. “As you can see, only seventeen baby boys were born in Smallville that year. And as I know each of them personally, I know that none of them can be the man you are looking for.” He slammed the book shut. “He must have been born elsewhere.”

Lois groaned and turned away from the window.

Thank you.

“Thank you,” she called back ungratefully to the clerk. ~Don’t you start patronizing me, Kent. Look what it did for Scardino.~

The clerk did the legwork you asked for. He did his job and he answered the question you asked. Just because he didn’t come up with the answer you were looking for is no reason to be surly. I warned you…

~So, you’re talking to me again? Just to tell me you told me so?~ she growled at that voice inside her head.

Fine. I’ll shut up.

“No!” Lois said out loud and then winced. Damn, he got her to admit that she liked having him talk to her. She hated the silent treatment. ~You better not be smiling,~ she snapped.

I wish I could, Lois. I wish I could.

***

Lois crawled into her twin bed that night both mentally and physically exhausted. She didn’t know why having conversations with Clark drained her of so much of her energy. Perhaps it was the stealthy way she had to be deceitful with the Kents about knowing their son.

Clark had been fairly quiet after they… she… had returned to his parents’ house. She wondered if he was there somewhere in the background of her psyche, sulking. He hated that he hadn’t been around to catch the ladder that caused Jonathan’s accident. He hated that his folks were forced to open their home to strangers – for money – just to make ends meet. He hated that he couldn’t help, that he couldn’t be there for them, that he couldn’t wrap his arms around them and hold them.

Lois knew all this without him saying one word. It was just another example of how wonderful a man Clark was that he cared so much about his parents. Then again, if her parents had still been together and in love after thirty-some odd years… she exhaled and pulled the covers over her.

Thank you, Lois.

“For what, Clark?” she murmured into her pillow. She felt like she had done more today to disprove his existence than prove it.

For doing this. For helping out my folks. For not giving up on me. For everything.

“So, you owe me one,” she mumbled.

I guess if you save me, we’ll finally be even for all those times I’ve saved you. Clark chuckled softly, regretfully. It wasn’t as if he regretted saving her, but regretted that he couldn’t do it anymore, which didn’t make any sense.

~’All those times’, Clark? What, twice after I witnessed Winninger’s murder? And one of those was from a skateboarder.~ Lois’ eyes started to droop.

Right. Twice. Clark sighed and then grumbled, I saved you at the Metro Club as well.

~Huh?~

Goodnight, Lois.

“Goodnight, Clark.”

***

As Lois stepped up to the outer doors of Clark’s building, she heard a yell in the neighboring alley. She turned to look down the alley and found a dusty Clark, picking himself up out of a pile of trash. That was a strange place for him to be at a time like this. What was it with Clark and trash lately?

“Clark, what are you doing here?” she asked. Did he think recreating his accident would help recover his memories?

“I live here,” Clark explained. That had to be one of the worst excuses he had ever given her.

Unable to help herself, she chuckled. “No, you don’t. Not in the alley.” She continued towards him. “Did you hear something?”

Clark grabbed her arm and turned her back the way she had come. “Uh. Yeah. That was me. I was looking… for clues.”

“Here?” Lois said, trying not to scoff. Yep, Clark had thrown himself into a pile of trash to get back his memories. Poor Clark. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure, fine,” he replied with a smile.

She almost believed him.

“Any news about Superman?” Amnesiac Clark just sounded odd as he changed the subject. He didn’t sound like Clark, and Lois still wasn’t used to it. It was like he was pretending to be himself.

“No, not yet,” she said with disappointment. She had kissed the red caped man before he left to battle Nightfall and, yet, Lois felt no guilt at wanting to spend her final minutes with Clark. She liked Clark. Even broken, he made her feel… whole.

“What if… he’s confused, like me?” Clark asked her. “And he wants to help, but he can’t.”

That made sense. Of course, Superman would want to help. That was who he was, but he ate a bomb in front of her. He got blown up in a building. He stopped a tsunami. The only thing that ever reportedly could hurt him was Kryptonite – but there wasn’t any proof that stuff existed. There was no way he could be confused “like Clark”.

“Superman wants to help… and he will,” she finally said.

“How can you be so sure?” Clark questioned.

“I know Superman,” Lois replied, reassured by this one fact she knew to be true. No one on Earth knew Superman better than she… well, not anymore.

“Well, I’d like to know him too, so, I can believe that,” Clark said as they continued to walk out of the alley. He must have been feeling the weight of the asteroid bearing down on them like the rest of humanity.

It sounded so weird to have Clark not know anything about Superman. He had known the Man of Steel as well as Lois and, at times it had seemed to her, even more so.

“Could you tell me about him?” Clark continued, almost pleading.

Lois smiled, as she always did, when she thought about Superman. What could she say? He was “Super” and he was a “Man”. She had nailed it on the first try. “Superman… is the type of man who makes things happen. I mean, he’s good looking and good, but the thing you notice most about him is how much you can count on him. I remember the first time he saved me… and only me…” When she had been pushed out of Trask’s airplane. When she was sure that her life was over, no second chances, no do-overs, Superman had been there for her. She really did count on him… all the time. Only Superman hadn’t saved “only her” that day. Superman had also saved Clark.

Lois realized that she had kept on walking, but Clark was no longer following. She turned back to him and he had a different expression on his face – like he was no longer pretending to be himself. “Clark? Are you remembering something?” Oh, please!

He smiled a big smile, a Clark Kent has the scoop of the century smile. “Yeah. I think so.”

Lois sighed in relief. She would much rather spend her last minutes on Earth with Clark, than his twin pretending to be him. “Well, let’s get back to the Planet. There’s a story to write. I mean, everybody’s meeting there for impact.”

Clark set his hand on her arm briefly and she felt a sizzle of… something tingly. Electricity? Magnetism? “Lois, wait. Can I meet you there?” he inquired. “I have something to do first.”

She smiled and tried not to roll her eyes. An overdue library book perhaps, Clark? “Sure, don’t be long,” she said, walking off.

He stopped her again. “Lois. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For whatever it is that you’ve done for me that makes me feel so good about you,” he said with that Clark Kent charm she loved so much.

“Oh, Clark,” Lois said, caressing his neck down to his chest for a brief moment. Touching him like this increased that tingly feeling she had felt before. She could feel it dancing around her whole body now. She wondered what it was: Fear? Anticipation? Butterflies? “Whether or not that memory of yours comes back, I want you to know I think you’re terrific.”

“Likewise.”

She really did admire him, and Lois knew in her heart of hearts that Clark admired her too. She just wished he would say it… could remember it… could tell her one time before time ran out… “I mean, I love you.”

Clark’s eyes popped in their sockets. He was in shock and he wasn’t telling her that he loved her too.

Oh, God! Oh, God! What had she done? Lois thought that if she told him she loved him, again – this time stone cold sober – he would finally admit his true feelings for her.

She needed to hear someone say it to her before her life ended.

Someone who believed it.

Maybe Clark still had no memories of loving her.

Or perhaps she was wrong and Clark didn’t love her, like she loved him.

Oh, God! She did love him like she had told him she had.

Why wasn’t Clark speaking?

She better say something else. A disclaimer. Yes!

“Like a… a brother,” she clarified.

His shocked expression turned to understanding as he nodded.

Lois laughed away her confession as if it had really been a gaffe and walked off, wincing in pain as soon as she had turned the corner so that Clark couldn’t see her. She set her hand on the building and took a couple of breaths of air, trying to keep the tears from forming.

She loved Clark.

And Clark really didn’t love her.

She should have known when he hadn’t been attracted to her while under the pheromone’s influence.

Well, that was that. She had tried. Loved and lost, as they say. Now, she knew. Clark was her friend and only her friend. Her best friend. She would make that relationship work… somehow. She would push these thoughts and feelings she had for her best friend into the darkest corner of the deepest closet in her mind and be done with them.

At least, Superman still loved her… and, barring that, there was always Lex.

Lois did love Superman, but she had never thought anything would ever come of it. She had hoped, but never really believed. He was Superman after all. Above all these petty human desires, except when inebriated on pheromones. At least, he had expressed his love for her. Maybe she should try harder there, now that she knew that there could never be anything with Clark.

Lex’s admiration might not touch her soul as much as Clark’s had, but she liked him well enough. Though, not enough to be as invested as she had been with Clark; therefore, a barrier between her heart and the pain of rejection she currently felt would protect her from ever having to feel this way with the billionaire.

When her tears were firmly at bay, she took a couple more steadying breaths and then marched off towards the Daily Planet, ready to move on with her life, whatever Nightfall determined that life to be.

Several blocks away, Lois heard it. The familiar swoosh of Superman taking flight and she turned to look up into the sky, catching only a glimpse of his red and blue before he disappeared into the heavens. It was like a breath she had been holding tight against her chest finally was able to be released.

Yep, Superman would always be there for her, in the nick of time. Lois knew she could always count on him. He would never let her down.

***

After the final shovel load from the stall, Lois once again thanked her lucky stars that she had been born and raised in the city. This was dirty, stinky work and although it wasn’t difficult, she could quite easily live without it for the rest of her life. She couldn’t believe that there were people from the city who actually paid the Kents for shoveling… manure. And to think, she herself had negotiated with these people to pay more. She would never underestimate Martha again.

Usually a wise choice.

~Ha Ha, funny boy,~ she grumped at the voice inside her head, the voice who had begged her to help out his folks, promising to help her with the chores, and from whom she hadn’t heard once that morning.

I’m at your beck and call, Lois.

“Bull!” she snapped, dropping the shovel on top of the wheelbarrow full of soiled wood shavings before picking up the handles of the wheelbarrow to push it outside to the pile Martha had shown her after breakfast. When Clark didn’t respond right away, she went on, “Where were you when your mother wanted me to gather eggs? I asked not to be around livestock and the first chore they give me is fetching eggs…”

You’re kidding me, right?

“The moral support would have been nice,” she said, reaching the pile and upturning the wheelbarrow onto the compost. “I’m telling you, I’m seriously thinking about changing my mind about you. I didn’t come all the way out to the middle of Nowheresville…”

I don’t know, Lois, Clark interrupted as she hoped he would.

‘Secretly hoped’ was more correct, but she wasn’t sure if she had any secrets from the man since he moved inside her head. “Go on.”

“Did you say something to me, Lois?” Martha asked, leaning out of the hayloft above her.

Lois gulped. She had forgotten to speak silently to Clark. She had thought she was alone. “No,” she called up to the woman. “Just talking to myself.” Then she added to herself, ‘And your son.’

I’m sorry, Lois. I should have warned you. Mom’s great at sneaking up on people.

~Is that where you get it from?~ she sniped rhetorically, moving upwind from the compost pile and leaning against the fence of a corral. She eyed the horse running around inside of it with suspicion, in case it thought of joining her. When it showed no interest in her, she exhaled with relief. ~Clark, I don’t think she’s your mom. I haven’t seen any evidence of you in the house. Maybe someone else adopted you.~

Martha and Jonathan Kent are the only family I’ve ever known, Lois. They’re my Mom and Dad. Where did you look?

~All the common rooms and the unoccupied bedrooms upstairs. I want to check out the basement…~

That’s a good idea. Since my folks opened the house up to strangers it’s possible they don’t want their personal life on display. Maybe my father’s office…

~That’s their bedroom now. First floor and all,~ Lois reminded him.

Right. Clark’s voice sounded soft and full of guilt.

~It isn’t your fault, Clark. Accidents happen.~

I should have been here for them… for him.

~Clark!~ Lois felt like swearing at the man. ~Are you going to stick on the farm for the rest of your life? You have a life in Metropolis, a job, friends who love and admire you. I’m certainly not giving that up to come and muck stalls for the rest of my life, so you can watch your parents like they were two-year olds.~

Nor would I ask you to.

Good! ~Nobody will blame you for not being here. You’re dead after all. It’s not like you decided to die, right?~

He hadn’t committed suicide, had he? No, not Clark. He loved his family too much. She couldn’t see him give up on life. Hell, he hadn’t given up on life, he was still living – even if it was vicariously through her.

No, Lois. I don’t think so. I really don’t know. It’s so frustrating… to know that I lived, but not have all the memories in focus or in a spot where I can reach them at a moment’s notice.

~Sorry, my mind isn’t up to par,~ Lois griped.

Not everything is about you, Lois. I’m the one not up to par here. It’s like I lived, but can’t remember it. Like that time I got amnesia and forgot who I was.

~Amnesia?~ She didn’t want to remember that part of her dreams, of the pain it caused her when he hadn’t said anything when she told him she loved him.

During Nightfall. I… I bumped my head…

~Oh, right. You fell into some garbage during the eclipse. You got amnesia from that? Is that where you disappeared off to while I was covering Superman?~ She was trying to be casual, hoping he didn’t know how far along she had progressed with her dreams.

Not like her dream-self had really noticed Clark’s disappearance at first. Her focus had been all-consumed by the Man in Blue. Lois wasn’t keen on who she was in these dreams. How could she only miss Superman and not the wonderful man at the next desk?

It was so strange living through that time again in her dreams. They didn’t feel like dreams anymore, but nightmares – especially in light of Clark’s non-answer to her confession of love. Not to mention everyone else panicking, fearing that life was going to end, causing them to do and confess things that they wouldn’t have otherwise. Even EPRAD had thought the asteroid was going to hit until the end. They had sent up the Asgard Rocket to blow it up, but – Lois rolled her eyes – it missed. The one chance to save the Earth, and the damn rocket had missed its target!

Lois still remembered standing next to Perry in the newsroom, holding his hand as they watched the countdown clock on LNN tick closer to zero. And then nothing. Nothing! Not even another eclipse. It was like everyone on Earth was holding their collective breath. One minute passed, then another and another. Then someone on the street started cheering. It was over. Nightfall had passed by Earth!

It didn’t hit? It missed Earth? Clark seemed as astonished as she had felt… as everyone had felt.

Everyone had thought that Nightfall was going to destroy the planet: EPRAD, NASA, the Russians, the President and even Lex had built his ark. Her brow furrowed.

Lex must have known about Nightfall in advance. There was no way he could have had that bunker ready to go in four days’ time– even with his resources. Then she remembered that back when the Messenger and Prometheus had blown up, Lex had offered up his own Luthor Space Station.

The creep! Lex had known for months – possibly years – that Nightfall was coming, but instead of warning the people of Earth, he had built himself an underground lair to save three hundred of his closest friends. Ugh. She shivered with disgust again about having believed his lies.

It all seemed kind of silly to still fear Nightfall in her dreams, when she knew that the asteroid came close but never stuck the planet.

It passed by Earth? Clark repeated, still sounding dumbfounded by this development.

~It had been close. Twenty-seven thousand miles outside of Earth’s atmosphere or thereabouts.~ Or had it been one-hundred and twenty-seven thousand miles? Lois shrugged. Professor Daitch had been convicted of gross negligence, inciting riots, etc. Poor man. He didn’t deserve the censure. Sure, he had made a mistake, a huge mistake, but better to err on the side of caution than not. It was probably best to lock him away for his own safety due to the number of death threats the scientist received after the scandal broke.

It missed?

But that was yesterday’s news.

~Let’s go into town,~ Lois suggested to the grumbling Clark, pushing off the fence post and heading for the house. ~See what they have by way of school records on you.~

“Lois, don’t forget to refill the stalls with clean shavings,” Martha called from up in the hayloft.

The reporter stopped in her tracks and grimaced. ~You owe me big, Smallville.~ She straightened her work gloves, grabbed the wheelbarrow off the compost pile, and headed around the side of the barn.

It missed?

***

That night Lois sat at the dining room table, her head throbbing.

Clark had, once again, dived into his quiet sulk upon returning from town before dinner. There had been no record of a Clark Kent ever having attended school in Smallville, which was strange because in Lois’ dreams Rachel Harris had said that Clark had been her prom date. It would be pointless to go to Midwest University and check their records. If Clark had never attended high school, the chances of him ever having made it to college were pretty slim. Of course, Clark had never made it to Metropolis either. When had he fallen off the grid?

After visiting the Smallville High, Lois had spent the rest of the afternoon flipping through the last ten years of the Smallville Post archives to see if there were any records or obituaries on Clark. Nothing. Not even a whisper. It was as if he had never existed.

She couldn’t believe someone from Smallville could die without it showing up in the Smallville Post. They were so thirsty for news in this small town that every accident, every school award, every pothole, every fair prize, every piece of gossip was reported in the paper, and even then it was hardly the size of the Daily Planet’s Metro section. Tomorrow she would check the next ten years back 1985-1975.

Could the reason that there was no mention of Clark anywhere in Smallville be because Martha and Jonathan had home-schooled the boy and hid him away in the basement? Lois just couldn’t imagine them doing that to Clark, especially now that they had opened their home to paying guests. Next on her list was exploring said basement after they had gone to sleep to see what they might have stored away.

“Everything all right?” Jonathan asked.

“A little bit of headache,” Lois admitted, rubbing her temples.

“Didn’t find your illustrious Kent then?” he teased.

“No,” Lois grumbled, accepting a piece of apple pie from Martha. “It’s like he disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“Nonsense,” Martha said with a reassuring nod. “People just don’t disappear. Maybe you’ve got the wrong town, dear. And Kent is a fairly common name, both as a first and as a last name.”

Lois wanted to correct Martha, knowing darn well as a reporter that people ‘disappeared’ all the time, but she didn’t feel like an argument. “No. This is the place,” Lois said, tempting Clark to interrupt to tell her to ‘shut up’. He hadn’t said word one since they… she had returned to the house.

“How do you know?” Martha said with curiosity.

~Oh, I don’t know. His parents are here. I’ve met them before… but only in my dreams. Oh, by the way, they’re you.~ No, Lois couldn’t tell Martha that.

“He’s always telling me stories from back home. Smallville isn’t a name I could come up with on my own. It’s so….” Lois noticed both Martha and Jonathan’s expressions and decided it was probably best not to knock their hometown. “Quaint.”

“Oh,” Martha replied with a smile, clearly humoring her.

“So, what’s your Kent like?” Jonathan asked.

“He’s tall, six foot easily, with dark hair and the kindest eyes…” Lois swallowed, realizing she was starting to gush about these people’s son. There was something about Clark that screamed he was someone to brag about. “He wears glasses though,” she said, trying to make Clark sound less like a Greek god and more human. She coughed to clear her throat. “He’s sweet and so kind and loving. Selfless. Genuine. Wry humor. He’s the strong and quiet type, yet caring and honest. In a good way,” she reassured them quickly. “— not the kind that tells you that you look bad, even when you do. He sees the best in everyone, even if they don’t deserve it. He’s definitely a glass-half-full kind of fellow.” She looked at Martha out of the corner of her eye. “Handsome.”

Martha grinned. “Tall, dark, and handsome. Hmmmm. He sounds perfect. Nope. Nobody around here fits that description.” Clark’s mother nudged her. “Does he have any flaws?”

Lois had never thought about it, but Martha was spot on. Clark was tall, dark, and handsome. When she added that to his personality, no wonder she was so enamored with him. She laughed, realizing that they were waiting for an answer and here she was off in la-la land thinking about Clark again. What had been their question? Flaws? “Yeah, he gets jealous easily, but not stalker jealous though. He’s forgiving to a fault.” She rolled her eyes in tender annoyance. “And he’s overly cautious.” ~Not to mention that he’s dead.~

“I take that back. I knew it! You came here to steal my husband,” Martha kidded, giving her husband a beaming smile. “Well, except the physical description doesn’t match.”

“I’m not tall anymore,” admitted Jonathan with laughter. He leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek. “And my hair isn’t dark. Anymore.”

“But you’re still handsome,” Martha whispered just loud enough for Lois to catch it.

Maisie was right. These two were in love, and they didn’t mind anyone – and everyone – knowing it. No wonder Clark turned out the way he did with the Kents as his folks.

“He sounds like a fantasy,” Martha continued. “Nobody is that perfect, honey. You might want to start readying yourself that he’s been lying to you, or you could be setting yourself up for some serious heartache.”

“But he’s real,” Lois told her adamantly. “I guess he sounds a bit unbelievable, but – trust me – he’s not perfect. He’s my partner…” Her laughter died as she looked down at her plate. Okay, that sounded a bit vague. “…at work…” That sounded even more odd. All that gushing and now she was saying that they just worked together and that he disappeared. “He couldn’t have made it all up,” she whispered not wanting to go down that path. “Why would he lie?”

Martha went over to the freezer and pulled out a carton of vanilla ice cream. She scooped out a huge portion and dumped it on Lois’ warm pie. “Here, honey, it looks like you could use this.”

Lois gazed up at the woman and smiled. Why couldn’t she have been born into this family? Unconditional love. She had heard about it but thought it fell into the world of mythology, like Santa Claus, unicorns, fairies, and… she gulped.

Flying superheroes, Clark finished her thought. That one phrase, though spoken softly, forlornly, and almost as if to himself, made her realize what it was about Clark that attracted her so.

“He believes in me,” Lois told the Kents. “I have to believe in him.”

***

Chapter Fifteen

At breakfast the next morning, Lois’ felt despair begin to wash over her. She wished Superman were real and that he could fly in and save the day, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was on her own. Only she could save Clark.

Her mind went back over her exploration of the Kents’ basement during the middle of the night while the Kents were asleep. The basement doubled as a storm shelter, laundry room, and cold storage – for all of Martha’s canning. There hadn’t been anything there either, unless it was squirreled away in a box or in storage or very well hidden.

Lois had looked through some of the boxes but had only found Martha’s art supplies packed away. Clark’s mother didn’t have the time or energy for hobbies now that she had a farm to run essentially on her own. Lois hadn’t seen any evidence of children’s toys, sleds, high chairs, gardening tools, old school papers, artwork, or anything that implied that Clark or any other child had ever lived there.

This self-imposed assignment was beginning to appear bleak indeed. How could Lois think about starting to save Clark from dying if they couldn’t prove that Clark had even existed, let alone whence in time to rescue him? Lois sighed. Even if it were possible to contact the dead H.G. Wells and he did happen to actually have a working time machine… her research had hit a dead end.

Clark’s continued silence was disturbing as well. Lois was beginning to feel like she had imagined the whole thing, created him out of her fantasies. It didn’t help that with each failure the voice inside her head spoke to her less. The teasing banter from a couple of days before seemed almost a distant memory.

Shivering with the dread that she had become one of those people who listened to the strange voice inside her head and followed it blindly, Lois wrapped her hands around her coffee mug in hopes of warming herself. This thought made her feel cold, physically cold. Lois had been so sure that Clark was real. Maybe Sarah was right; Clark and Superman were just figments of her imagination, placed in her head by her subconscious to help her deal with the grief of Mayson and Lex.

Only Lex was a horrible man. Lois wasn’t grieving his death any more. Superman had pointed her to the truth about him. Good riddance.

Maybe a good therapist was what she needed to overcome her grief at losing her best friend, Mayson Drake, but that thought made Lois nauseous. She hated psychiatry, ever since her mother sent her to see a shrink when her parents got divorced. What a waste of time that had been.

Even Lois had to admit that creating a fictitious handsome co-worker with whom she fell in love – of all things – who just happened to have died in the past, and whom she needed to save, sure did sound like a desperate cry for help if she had ever heard one. Sarah would probably tell her it was a manifestation of Lois’ subconscious, giving her a way to feel like she had some control over life and death. Lois really hated psycho-babble. Perhaps she really was mentally unstable. She certainly felt like she was losing control… and her mind. At least that part of her mind where Clark lived.

She sniffled. She hated to think this, but Mayson’s death seemed not to matter compared to the loss of Clark – her true best friend. If she were to lose him completely, now… Oh, God! She didn’t even want to contemplate how empty her life would become, and a fresh wave of despair rolled over her.

Lois didn’t know if this melancholy was her frustration at not finding anything or if it was something on Clark’s part. She refused to give up on him, but with each longer bout of silence, it felt as if he was letting go.

I want you to be happy, Clark whispered as if confirming her worst nightmare.

~Don’t, Clark!~ Her throat constricted as she held in the sob.

“Lois, honey, are you okay?” Martha asked, sitting down next to her.

Lois shook her head, unable to speak. Clark couldn’t leave her. She wanted more than anything to wrap her arms around him and have him tell her everything would be all right. If he left she would be all alone in this. She needed her partner more than ever.

“Come on,” Martha said, patting Lois on the shoulder. “I need your help in the fields today. The physical exertion will get your mind off things.”

Reluctantly Lois rose to her feet and followed the petite woman. She did not want to do farm work, but she wanted to be alone with her thoughts – or lack of thoughts – even less. The thought of wading through more piles of back copies of the Smallville Post on this beautiful summer’s day seemed more like torture.

Two hours and about a bucket of sweat later, Martha stopped the tractor and pulled out a small picnic basket. “Break time,” she called to Lois who was straightening up the hay raked up by the tedder Martha’s tractor was pulling.

They leaned against the big machine despite the combined heat of its motor and the heat of the day. At least they were standing in its shadow. Martha handed her a thermos of water and a scone.

“Before Jonathan’s accident, I used to bake all the time,” Martha murmured. “I loved how his eyes would light up at the smell of fresh baked goods when he walked in from the barn or fields.” She sighed. “Now, I only bake on Sundays after church. I know I should be resting, but it’s one of the small pleasures I allow myself… under the guise of necessity.”

Lois didn’t understand why Martha was baring her soul to her. Maybe she felt the kinship they were supposed to have because of Clark.

“You don’t paint anymore?” Lois asked.

Martha gazed at her with amazed confusion. “How did…?”

“The painting in the living room…” Lois said quickly to cover her mistake.

“Ah… No. I don’t have time or energy for hobbies anymore.” Martha informed her, another sigh escaping. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“I take martial arts classes. Self-defense is important in Metropolis.” And in her line of work.

“That sounds more like exercise. What do you do for fun?” Martha corrected.

Lois scoffed, taking a gulp of her water. “Fun? What’s that?” She had fun with Clark playing games at the Lexor, talking with Clark on stakeouts, on assignments, and just hanging out with him. Not that she would ever admit it in her dreams, but Clark’s addition to the Daily Planet had made her happier than she had been in years. In reality, searching for Clark was the only thing she had done for herself in a long time. In her real life, the only fun she had was her investigations, her work. Clark had made her see that there was more to life than just work.

“That crushed expression that you get from time to time,” Martha said, nodding at Lois. “This man – Kent – causes that, doesn’t he?”

“Can’t put one past you,” Lois confessed.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did he do?”

~He up and died on me.~ Lois swallowed. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him. I think he’s letting me go for my own good.”

Martha stared at her. “Do you love him?”

“More than I thought it was possible to love someone,” Lois whispered. Her dream self might repress the emotion, but she knew the truth. “That’s why I’m here, looking for him.”

“And does he love you?”

“I thought he did, but…” Lois said with a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“So, what’s the problem? If you don’t mind me asking,” Martha probed.

How could explain Clark communicating with her from beyond the grave if they couldn’t even find said grave? If no one but her, it seemed, ever knew he had lived? “He’s not at a hundred percent at the moment…” Let’s just expose the tip of the iceberg there, Lane.

Martha nodded with understanding. “Jonathan has always been my rock, but these last few years I’ve had to be the strong one.” Her eyes flashed up to Lois’. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m no hothouse flower.” She chuckled. “I’m more like one of those weeds you can’t get rid of even if you pull it up by its roots.”

Clark’s mom sounded a lot like her, Lois thought.

“It’s hard for Jonathan having to rely on me for so much. These first couple of years after the accident have been difficult on both of us, switching roles. Years ago…” Martha said, flipping up her hand as if to say ‘many, many years ago’. “Jonathan had to have back surgery. I went into town and got a job and had be the sole breadwinner for a while. He hated that. It made him feel less than a whole man. I’d known it was only temporary, and eventually we made it through. This new life of ours isn’t temporary, Lois. This isn’t what I signed up for, but you know what…?” She smiled at Lois. “That doesn’t matter. We’re together. I love him, and I wouldn’t trade the way he looks at me for a nine-to-five anywhere, because at a hundred percent or not, Jonathan’s still my world… it’s making him see that…” Martha exhaled and took a drink from her thermos.

Like father, like son.

Lois took another sip of water. ~That’s exactly how I feel about you, Clark,~ she reminded him, hoping he was listening. ~Let me be your rock. Just hold on.~

They heard a noise that sounded like another tractor. A man – probably a few years younger than herself – pulled up. Lois was happy for the distraction from their conversation and from getting back to her back-breaking chore. She wondered if this was the farmhand that Maisie had mentioned, the one not worth looking at. Who knew? Every man looked bland to her when compared to Clark and Superman.

“Thomas!” Martha said, waving. “Whatcha doing over here?”

Thomas cut off the engine of his tractor and walked up to them. Lois racked her brain trying to remember the name of the farmhand. She hadn’t thought it was Thomas.

The man stopped in front of them and, despite her dirty attire and dust stained face, gave Lois the once over like a prized pig. Lovely.

“Thomas Irig, Lois Lane. Lois is staying with us from Metropolis. Thomas is our neighbor,” Martha said by way of introductions.

Irig. As in Wayne Irig? Lois hadn’t known that Mr. Irig had a son. She waved her weak greeting.

He nodded at her, recognizing a dismissal when he saw one. “Martha, Sheriff Harris is bothering my dad again about donations for the campaign.”

“You mean guilting him for a donation?” Martha replied between pressed lips, letting a tsk escape.

Lois’ brow furrowed. This didn’t sound like the Rachel Harris she had met when she and Clark had come to town during the Corn Festival.

“I hate to ask… and you know my dad would never say anything and just give the money. When will it end, Martha? It’s been over ten years since Walt…” Thomas looked down at his feet, his voice fading off.

Martha patted his arm reassuringly. “You want me to send Jonathan into town and give the Sheriff a what for?”

Thomas smiled. “Yeah. That would be great. You know Dad and I can’t… aren’t welcome…”

“Why would Rachel do that?” Lois asked, interrupting. She was unable to hold back her curiosity any longer.

Thomas’s face went white. “Rachel?”

Martha just stared at Lois in disbelief.

“I liked her. She’s professional and does her job well, even if she was a bit flirtatious with Clark…” Lois stopped herself, realizing she had said too much.

“Who?” Martha sputtered. “Who?”

“Sheriff Harris. Rachel Harris,” Lois clarified at their stunned faces. Wasn’t that whom they were talking about?

“Do you think that’s funny?” Thomas snapped at her. “What kind of sick joke is that?” He looked to Martha for an explanation. “Who is this woman, Martha?”

Martha placed a calming hand on Thomas’s arm before turning to Lois. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Lois, or where you got your information, but the Rachel Harris from Smallville is dead.”

“What?!” Lois gasped, stumbling backwards away from them, dropping her thermos. “She can’t be dead? How could she be dead? You just were talking about her re-election campaign.” Her hands began to shake.

“Rachel’s brother Max is Sheriff,” Thomas practically spit at her. “He’s the one seeking blood money from us.”

Lois’ eyes flashed between Thomas and Martha as she put more space between them. “Rachel’s dead?” Oh, God! Was this it? Both Clark and Rachel were dead? Had something happened on prom night, killing them both? No wonder she hadn’t found anything about Clark. He died before leaving high school. Had they purged his school records because of that? She gazed into Martha’s eyes looking for a clue.

“Lois?” Martha asked slowly, carefully, as if she had discovered a ticking-time bomb in the reporter. “How do you know about Rachel?”

“They went to prom together. They did the two-step and the tush-push together, whatever that is,” Lois explained what they clearly already knew.

“Yeah! Well, everyone knows that Rachel was the tush-push champ…” Thomas said, before Martha’s raised hand silenced him.

“Who, Lois? They who?”

“Clark and Rachel, of course?” stammered Lois, backing up as the air surrounding her suddenly felt heavier, thicker.

“Lois, Clark who?” Martha asked, staring Lois in the eye.

“Kent, of course. Your son. The man from my dreams.”

Okay. Obviously that had been the wrong thing to say, Lois told herself as Martha’s jaw dropped open. Thomas was staring at Lois like she was nuts.

“Lois, I don’t have a…” Martha started to say before her face drained of color. “Clark?”

Lois nodded. Was the mortar loose in Martha’s brick wall? “Clark Jerome Kent. Your son,” she repeated, pressing on and holding eye contact with Clark’s mom, hoping for a flicker of recognition.

The woman looked sick. Physically sick.

“Clark went to prom with Rachel Harris,” she reminded them.

Instead Martha grabbed hold of Thomas’s sleeve for a moment as she gathered her bearings.

“Rachel went to prom with my brother Walt,” Thomas informed her.

Lois felt as if her world was spinning. “Walt?” Had Clark not been adopted by the Kents because he had been born an Irig? Or was he adopted by them? Had he had been named Walt… or Walter? No wonder she couldn’t find any record of Clark. Relief washed over her. Was this a clue at last? She looked at Thomas. He was lanky and even taller than Clark, and his complexion was darker than both Martha and Jonathan. “Your brother Walt, what does he look like?”

“Walt’s dead,” Thomas said coldly.

She knew that already and brushed that fact aside with a flick of her hand. “He and Rachel died on prom night?” Lois inquired.

Thomas gave a short nod. “Car accident. Max said Walt had been drinking.”

Drinking? That didn’t sound like Clark, who was overly cautious. She couldn’t picture him drinking and driving. Maybe it was this incident that made him so careful. “What did Walt look like? Was he taller than you? Dark hair? Glasses?”

Martha’s eyes shot up to Lois’ in an intense way the reporter had never seen them. “Walt had deep auburn hair like his mother and was about your height,” the woman stepped closer to her. “What are you really doing here?”

Lois gulped. Got it, Walt wasn’t Clark. Where was Clark? Why hadn’t he taken Rachel to prom? Had he died before then? The way Martha stared at her reminded her of another man from Lois’ dreams. Not that Superman had ever looked at her like that, thank God! “I’m searching for Clark.”

Thomas looked back and forth between the two women, completely lost. “Martha, what is she…?”

Martha ignored him as she stepped towards Lois again in an even more aggressive manner. “Who do you work for?”

Normally one to hold her ground, Lois couldn’t help but take another step backwards, holding up her hands. She and Martha were on the same side. She needed to make Clark’s mother to see that. “I’m just looking for answers, Martha,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Who do you work for?” Martha repeated.

“Where I work doesn’t have any bearing on why I’m in Smallville,” Lois said, knowing well how some people felt about the fourth estate. “I’m here to learn about Clark. That’s all.”

“The government? Some wacky fringe group?” Martha continued to rattle off. “A tabloid?”

Lois’ face hardened. “I’m not a tabloid reporter! The Daily Planet deals only in real news.”

She watched as Martha’s anger doubled. “Get off my land!” the woman roared, pointing off into the distance.

The reporter decided it was time to get away from this field, these people. She turned around and ran deep into the field, through the tall grass. In the next field, the Kents were growing corn, and she pushed her way through the tall stalks. Lois kept running until she couldn’t run any longer; then she walked, stumbling forward through her tears, through the blindness, through the fog inside her head.

Eventually, Lois came through the corn to a small meadow between fields. She saw a hill topped with trees and aimed for it. Trees meant shade from the noon-day heat. At the top of the hill was a small plot of rocky land enclosed by a broken-down picket fence. Lois stepped over the low fence and sat down amongst the shadows and rocks. Her hands came to her face and she wept. Martha’s rejection, on top of Clark’s disappearance, brought back all her feelings of inadequacy her own family had piled on her.

She pushed past the pain and tried again to look at the facts. That was what she liked about news. It was all about cold, hard facts – there was no emotion there, just knowledge. Rachel Harris was dead. Lois still couldn’t believe it. Another person, who was alive and well in her dreams, had died. What was her brain trying to tell her? What did it all mean? How did these puzzle pieces fit together?

Something in Martha’s expression had told Lois that Clark had been real. The woman had acknowledged his name with her eyes, and it had made her defensive as if she was worried that Lois was going to do something to harm her dead son. How was Lois going to convince Martha and Jonathan that she wanted what they wanted? For their son to be alive and well again. She sighed. Maybe being part of the Kent family was just another pipedream she was going to lay aside, like having her father’s undying admiration and her mother’s respect.

Looking around she noticed that it wasn’t a rocky fenced meadow as she had originally thought. These rocks were old tombstones. Some had crumbled from years of neglect and disrepair and appeared to look like rocks at first glance. She had ended up in a graveyard.

Lois would have shivered at the creep factor had she been a lesser woman, but she had never been scared of cemeteries. She knew that dead bodies did not rise again in the form of vampires or zombies. She was too levelheaded to believe in such mumbo-jumbo; not too levelheaded to believe in ghosts apparently. Or aliens. Or time travel.

She tried to read the names or dates on the broken rocks.

Jonas K. – 1876.

Mary Smalls Kent – 1882.

Charles Kent – 1880.

Abigail – 1892.

Jerome – 1892.

Laura – 1892.

Samuel Kent – 1896.

This obviously was the Kent family graveyard. She assumed the dates were when these people died. 1892 must have been a difficult year plagued by sickness or violence. Her heart ached for Jonathan’s relatives.

Lois noticed that someone had placed flowers on a small grave in the corner. Wildflowers. They were wilted from the heat of the day, but fresh enough that it couldn’t have been more than twenty-four hours, thirty-six tops, since they had been laid there. She moved closer, kneeling down to try and read the etching. The name had been scratched into the stone by hand and not too deeply at that. She spit into her hand and used the liquid to make the indentations in the rock more pronounced.

Clark Kent – 5-17-66.

That couldn’t be right. Clark was a year older than her. That must be his birthdate.

She rubbed on the rock even further, but that was the only date on the rock.

Why would they only put one date? If this was right…

Lois sat up and stared at the grave marker.

No wonder she couldn’t find a record of Clark in Smallville. He never lived long enough to go to school, let alone high school, let alone college, or Metropolis. She had fallen in love with a baby, a baby who had died before she was even born, before she herself had been conceived. How old had he been when he died? Ghosts didn’t age, did they? No, that was ridiculous. She knew that the man from her dreams, the man to whom she had given her heart, was real. And yet, she also knew that this grave belonged to him.

Lois placed her hand over the slight curvature of the earth by the marker. Tears welled up in her eyes again. “Clark,” she said to him. “I finally found you.”

Were her dreams just dreams or repressed memories? Or a mixture of the two? How could she have memories of him as a man when he had never been a man? How was that possible? Clark Kent must have at one point been a real man, a reporter, her partner, her friend.

So, if he was supposed to have been a man, then how had his destiny been changed?

If there was a way to go back in time to “save” Clark from dying, there must also be a way from someone else to go back in time and kill him. Kill him as a baby. She could not believe that this was an accident. He was supposed to be alive, and since Clark wasn’t alive, someone must have done this on purpose. A tear rolled down her cheek and landed on his grave, dampening the soil as she grimaced at that thought.

What kind of sick bastard killed a baby? Why? Why would someone go back in time and kill the sweetest man of Lois’ acquaintance? A man who everyone seemed to have liked? What could Clark have possibly done to anger someone to such an extreme? Or had she – she was “Mad Dog Lane” after all – ticked someone off enough to go back in time and kill the man Lois loved?

It’s always about you, isn’t it? Clark murmured.

“Who did this, Clark? Who killed you?” she asked him. She asked the universe. She would accept a response from anyone who had a suggestion.

I have no answers, Lois. You’ll have to ask my parents about my death.

“I’m not really on their ‘friends and family’ list at the moment,” Lois reminded him, too overjoyed to hear his voice to berate him for abandoning her.

She sat there running her fingers through the dirt and dried grass on his grave, not wanting to leave, not knowing where she could go, reveling in being physically close to him, even a baby version of him.

Lois had the answers to the two questions she had come to Smallville to find. Was Clark real? And if so, when had he died? Yes and May 17, 1966. She sighed, not wanting to consider that this had been the easy part of her quest to save Clark.

How in the world was Lois supposed to save someone who died as a baby? And if she did, would he still grow up to be the same man from her dreams? Would Clark be Clark?

And if her dreams were really repressed memories, how could the absence of one man change so many lives for the worse? Johnny Taylor? Rachel Harris? Jonathan Kent? All of them were alive and well in her dreams. Even Ralph was still around and giving her grief. Clark had been there for her to lavish her attentions on. She had spent that night of the pheromones at Clark’s apartment doing the dance of the seven veils instead of being attacked at her own.

In her dreams, her and Lex’s relationship hadn’t progressed to the point of him inviting her to spend the night. Hopefully, it never would. Therefore, she had no reason to tell Lex about Ralph barging into her apartment and… because that event never happened. Thank God! No, it hadn’t happened, thanks to Clark. If she needed another reason to love Clark she had it. Well, if that didn’t cement Jimmy’s theory about Lex having Ralph murdered in her opinion, nothing would.

What about Superman? How did he play into this whole crazy scenario? Did he? Or was he still just a figment of her imagination? If time-travel was possible, and at this point Lois had to believe it must be, then it was feasible that Superman wasn’t just part of her psyche put there to tell her how horrible a man Lex Luthor really was. How had Clark dying as an infant stopped Superman from appearing and saving all those people on the Prometheus? No matter how many times she turned the puzzle piece, she just couldn’t get Superman to fit in anywhere. There was something about him that was too unique.

***

Lois stayed by Clark’s grave for hours. She didn’t want to leave. It had taken her months since she had first been introduced to Clark in her dreams until she had gotten to this point – to finding him in her real life – and leaving felt like abandoning him. Clark might try to leave her for her own good with his silence, but it wasn’t going to work. She loved him and, do or die, he was stuck with her until the bitter end. She wasn’t going to take the easy road and let him drop by the wayside.

She kissed her fingers and pressed them against the stone where Jonathan or Martha had etched Clark’s name. “This isn’t goodbye, Clark. I’m going to find you and bring you home.”

Lois stood up, dusted herself off, and stepped out of the graveyard. She walked down the hill towards the afternoon sun. It was hot; blistering hot as only August in the Midwest could be. She was thirsty, dirty, and sweaty. A cool breeze came through the trees and cooled her off for a moment.

Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn?

A smile slipped onto her lips. “Only those who care, Clark,” Lois told him.

She found the road that encircled the field of corn and started walking down it in the general direction to the Kents’ farmhouse. She didn’t know what kind of reception she would find there. She needed to talk to Martha and Jonathan and explain what she wanted to do for their son, but she didn’t think they would be in the mood to talk.

Lois had gone over and over Martha’s words in her head as she sat at Clark’s grave and wondered what had frightened his mother? Prying? Repercussions? Why had the Kents buried Clark in an almost unmarked grave in an abandoned graveyard? Had they actually been Clark’s birth parents and didn’t want Smallville to know about their private pain of losing a child? Had it been that they had never mentioned Clark’s birth and subsequent death to the authorities? If they weren’t his parents, why hadn’t they contacted the authorities when they had found the child – dead or alive? Had they been scared of being charged with Clark’s murder? Did they know who Clark’s birth parents were? Had they rescued Clark from someone who had abused him, but he had died anyway? Were they now scared that Lois would send someone to dig up Clark’s grave? She would never do that to them or to Clark.

She had lots of questions for them regarding Clark’s death. Any information they could give her would place her that much further along the path to rescuing him… once she figured out the problem of time travel and the dead author H.G. Wells.

“Clark, do you think you could contact Wells from where you are? In the beyond?” she suggested. Why not? She had come across weirder “pseudo-science” since learning about Clark. Come on, head transplants? Please.

No, Lois, I cannot contact H.G. Wells from wherever I am. There’s you, and there’s me. There is no beyond. That I can communicate with you is miracle enough for me.

Well, so much for Clark being her happy medium. Lois sighed. It was miracle enough for her as well, but no reason to spout any more useless romantic lines with which they couldn’t follow through. Personally, she was still a little ticked off at him for not telling her that he loved her after she confessed that she loved him during those last few hours before Nightfall was supposed to hit. She still loved him, and as far as she could tell, despite it being quite a while since he had said the words, Clark loved her as well.

“Any advice on winning over your mom and dad?” she asked, hoping to keep him active enough in conversation that he wouldn’t go and disappear on her again.

Be honest. Since they think you lied to them – came here under false pretenses – this isn’t the time to candy coat anything.

“I haven’t come here under false pretenses,” Lois rebutted. “I told them from the beginning that I was here searching for a man named Kent.”

Lo-is, Clark groaned in a way she hadn’t heard in a good long time.

She continued to defend her argument, trying not to let the smile grow larger on her lips and let Clark know how much she enjoyed this annoying aspect of their relationship. “Okay, fine. I grant you I didn’t tell them that ‘Kent’ was ‘Clark Kent’ their son. I also didn’t tell them that I can speak to you and that you invade my dreams with memories of our life together. But as you know, I’m not a big fan of padded rooms.”

I don’t invade your dreams, Lois, Clark retorted. They’re your memories, from your point of view. I have no control over them.

“Right. You’re a figment of my imagination. I get it,” Lois responded. He really could be quite frustrating with his hands-off approach to her life.

Thanks for not giving up on me, he said softly.

“Not in my vocabulary,” she reminded him, kicking a rock further down the lane.

I’m still amazed that you love me.

“Yep, there are no depths to my stupidity,” Lois grumbled. She didn’t remember him being such a chatterbox before.

In case you’re wondering, I’ll always love you.

Yeah, right. She’d believe it when she saw it. “Always is a long time. Sure you want make such a long-term commitment there, Clark?” Lois could picture the man from her dreams cringe at her words.

You’re the one who proposed, Clark reminded her playfully. I’ve already done my part on the ‘not even death will us part’ portion of our lives. Top that!

“I never gave up on you,” she murmured.

Clark faded into silence again but even so she could feel his guilt. It wasn’t her guilt. She had nothing to feel guilty about, so it must be his.

It wasn’t until she rounded the corner on the work road and could see his parents’ farmhouse that he spoke again.

This relationship isn’t healthy for you, Lois. If you can’t figure out a way to go into the past…

“Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Kent,” she replied through pressed lips.

Clark continued on as if she hadn’t interrupted, I don’t want to hold you back from having a real life, of having a real relationship with a real flesh and blood man, whom you can hold and touch and with whom you can have children… He paused and she heard him sigh before reluctantly admitting … with someone like Scardino.

Lois stopped and threw her hands into the air. “Dan? I broke up with Dan because of Dan, not because of you,” she shouted. “And at this moment, sex and children are the last thing I need. What I need to know is whether you’ll be there for me, Clark, or if you’re going to abandon me every time this gets hard?”

As long as you want me, Lois, I’ll be around.

“Ha!” She started stomping on down the road. “Do you love me?”

I’ve never stopped loving you.

“Then stop making decisions regarding my life without consulting me. If I decide that this relationship is unhealthy for me or that I could do better, you’ll be the first to know.”

Got it.

“Until then, we’re in this together.” She lowered her voice as she got closer to the farmhouse.

I just want you to be happy, Lois, Clark told her.

“Happy? I am happy!” she growled. “I have a man who loves me more than life itself. What makes you think I’m not happy?”

She could hear Clark’s chuckles echoing inside her head. No idea.

***

Lois could see her stuff on the porch piled next to the front door before she even walked up the steps. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Pulling open the screen door, she tried to open the main door. Locked.

She picked up her purse and found that Martha had removed the keys she had given to Lois a couple of days before. No, wait. Lois had put them in the pocket of her jeans after she had locked her bedroom door that morning. She felt her pocket and then remembered, she had left them next to her plate on the breakfast table. Crap.

Tossing the strap of her purse over her head and across her chest, Lois knocked on the door. There was a twitch on the living room curtain, but the door remained closed. “Martha? Jonathan?” she called.

More silence.

~So, this is where you picked it up? The silent treatment?~

Maybe we should just go…

~I’m not walking away, Smallville.~

“Martha, I found Clark’s grave,” Lois said to the door. “I know he died as a baby. Please, I need to talk to you about this.” She waited a minute before continuing, “Clark wasn’t supposed to die. He was supposed to live and grow up, be a reporter with me – my partner at the Daily Planet.” Her annoyance at their lack of response got the better of her. “I told you that he wasn’t one hundred percent at the moment!” she yelled.

Lois, please, Clark coaxed.

“I would never do anything to hurt him or you.” Lois took another deep breath and went on. “He wasn’t supposed to die back in 1966. Someone killed him. I’m just trying to figure out how, why, and who. There might be a way for me to bring him back, to save him…” Her voice trailed off. They weren’t ever going to believe that she could travel back in time and save their son. She hardly believed it. She closed her eyes and laid her head against the door. “Please. His ghost speaks to me.”

Is that what you think I am? A ghost?

~You got a better term?~ Lois retorted.

No. I guess ghost will do, but aren’t they supposed to have like a noncorporeal body or something?

~Not really the time, Clark.~

Right. Sorry.

“I know that this all sounds surreal. Trust me, it’s even harder for me to believe. I’m someone who believes in facts, not magic or fairytales. But Clark talks to me,” Lois said, speaking once more to the closed door. “He loves you and misses you. I’m sorry that you never got a chance to know him, because he’s everything I told you about last night – this morning – and more. He really is the best man I have ever…” Dreamed of meeting? Met in her dreams? “I wish you could remember him.”

When there was still no answer, she accepted her fate. From her briefcase she removed all but twenty dollars in cash from her wallet. She wrote her home phone number on the back of one of her business cards and stuck it into an envelope with the money. She looked around the door in vain for a mail slot or place to put the envelope. Not finding anything, she pushed the envelope into the doorframe.

“The money is to cover the cost of my room and board for the past couple of days. If you change your mind and want to talk to me about Clark, I’ve also enclosed my contact information. Please, I would love to tell you what a wonderful man your son was supposed to grow up to be,” Lois said, taking one last shot. She waited another minute, but when it seemed that the Kents were definitely not coming to the door, Lois picked up her stuff and headed to her rental car.

“I guess it’s just you and me, kid,” she said to that voice inside her head as she sat down behind the steering wheel.

One more minute, Lois. Can we just wait one more minute? Clark pleaded softly.

Lois could hear the raw pain in his voice. He loved his parents and could only remember them ever loving him. He didn’t have memories of them disappointing him, or not being there for him, like she had of her parents. Ever the optimist, Clark still held out hope that they would open the door and call her back. Just for him, she yearned for the same thing, to feel Martha’s arms surround her and hold her, hug her for Clark, to have someone believe her about this voice inside her head.

After another two minutes of staring at the closed front door of the Kents’ farmhouse, Lois turned the key and backed up the car.

***

Chapter Sixteen

“Whooo-Hooo! Olsen, you owe this old Memphis newshound twenty dollars, son,” Perry called as Lois slunk into work two days later. Her boss wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I knew you couldn’t stay away for two weeks. Jimmy here thought you’d make it a week.” The Chief nudged the photographer who joined them at Lois’ desk.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Lois echoed softly, not really wishing to be there, but not knowing where else to go. She didn’t know how to even start progressing on how to save Clark, and just sitting around her apartment was driving her nuts. She needed to keep busy. She threw the Chief a smile that didn’t remain as soon as he turned back to his office.

Jimmy sat down on the corner of her desk. “Did you find him?”

Lois had forgotten that she had told Jimmy about Clark. “Yes and no.” Yes, she now knew Clark existed, and she had found his grave, but no, because he was still dead. She decided to change the subject. “Hey, Jimmy, get this. While I was out of town a psychic moved into my building downstairs, Star!”

Jimmy looked at her with a perplexed expression. “Star?”

“That’s her name: Star.” Lois stretched her hands out like she was showing it to him up in lights.

“Oh. Psychic, huh? Maybe she can locate your missing beau,” he suggested with a good amount of wry humor.

At least, Lois thought he was joking. They shared the same opinion when it came to psychics, right? Of course Jimmy didn’t believe in psychics… did he? “Ha, ha. Very funny, Jimmy,” she said through pressed lips, just in case he had been serious. So much for diversionary tactics.

He sighed and then the smile on her friend’s lips faded. “Uh… Lois… um… while you were gone… uh…” Jimmy seemed even more uncomfortable than when he had confessed to her on the island that he loved her.

“What?” Lois asked, trying to reassure him that they were okay.

“No. It’s nothing,” he said with a shake of his head before standing up. Then he paused. “Oh! I almost forgot. Toni Taylor committed suicide.”

“What?!” Lois gasped, leaning back in her chair. “No, I don’t believe it. How?”

“Sheet through the bars on the top bunk of her cell,” he told her.

“I just…” Lois shook her head in disbelief. “I never thought she’d commit suicide. Toni seemed to fear death.” She rolled her eyes. Who didn’t fear death? “I mean, the only thing that seemed to scare her was Lex…” Lois frowned, picking up a pencil and beginning to tap it subconsciously on her desk. “She told me that Lex had threatened to kill her if she told anyone about them, about him.” She caught Jimmy’s eye. “Now, she’s dead.”

“You’re being paranoid, Lois. Lex is dead. We were both there,” Jimmy reminded her as he sat back down.

“Right,” she agreed, if somewhat uncertainly. Lex had died in her arms, pronouncing his love for her. She hadn’t forgotten. Still… No, Jimmy was right; it was just a coincidence. Just like Miranda dying in prison a couple weeks after Ralph was found murdered; the two events didn’t necessarily tie together. Just like Lex dying and then his body being stolen from the morgue. Who would do that? No, her brain put its foot down; Lex was dead. Dead was dead; well, at least it was in this case. Not everything was a big conspiracy, Lane, let it go. She exhaled. “Whatcha been working on while I’ve been away?”

“Couple of break-ins. High end computer stuff: computer chips and something called a wave pulse amplifier, inside jobs. The people helped the robbers break in but say they don’t remember how or why,” he explained.

Lois’ brow furrowed. “That’s funny.”

“Funny – ha, ha or funny – odd?” Jimmy inquired.

“Funny – odd. Last night I dreamed of that magic show charity thing Cat dragged us to a couple of years ago,” Lois said, slowly flipping through her messages without really reading them. She was hoping for a message from the Kents. Nothing. “Remember, she was chasing after Arthur Chow, and you had Perry hypnotized.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes with a grimace. “Don’t remind me. I couldn’t call him ‘Chief’ for months after that. Every once in a while I’d forget, and he would double finger point at me and tell me I’m brilliant.”

Lois grinned. “You were lucky you weren’t fired.”

“Isn’t that when he officially assigned me to you as your partner?” Jimmy winked at her.

“What? I’m your punishment for that? Thanks, Jimbo,” Lois scoffed. “And you weren’t my partner back then. You were my flunky,” she said the word with teasing humor and love – platonic love.

“So, you think these robberies might have something to do with magic?” Her partner was more adapt at getting off a subject than she was.

“Sounds like hypnotism, doesn’t it?” she replied.

“I’ll check into it.” Jimmy stood up and shook his head. “Amazing.”

I completely agree.

“What?” Lois sputtered, momentarily distracted by hearing Clark’s voice. She glanced up at Jimmy. “What?”

“You, Lois. Back two minutes, and you crack open this case that has stymied Metropolis PD all week,” he said and then lowered his voice. “Can I start telling people we’re engaged?”

She turned her eyes to her computer to check her e-mail messages. “Not if you enjoy having your spleen.”

“Our little secret then.” He shot her a grin and bolted.

Told you it was a dinosaur bone.

~Never tell me ‘you told me so’,~ Lois replied to the voice inside her head. ~I’m always right. Get used to it.~

She thought back to that dream about Superman out of control and shivered. Her dreams were becoming creepier, more like nightmares. Superman had almost drowned her. She took a deep breath and exhaled. It was only a dream.

Or had it been a repressed memory from her former life with Clark? No, it couldn’t have been, Superman wasn’t real. He was just a figment of her imagination.

They had never caught the kidnapper in real life. She and the missing child… Nick… had awoken on the carousel together at the Hobs Bay Carnival. Both of them had been hypnotized. Both of them had remembered nothing.

Lois had traced the kidnappings to that illusionist Darren Ronick but no further. Dr. Novak – the man who had hypnotized Perry – and Ronick had both died mysteriously at the Magic Mansion. Well, Novak had been murdered. They matched Ronick’s fingers to the impressions left on Novak’s neck. Ronick had fallen from a ladder at the Magic Mansion, and his death had been ruled an accident. The kidnappings had stopped, and Ronick had been blamed. Constance had taken over Ronick’s act and moved to Las Vegas, where she was still a headliner today.

In her dreams, Clark was acting strangely too. He went as her date for the charity event, but not officially; they had gone as partners. He seemed more standoffish too, like something was bothering him. He had disappeared for an entire day during their investigation. Then he acted like he had gone to the ransom drop with her and Jimmy, even though he hadn’t. Worst of all, he had stopped looking at her with admiration tinged with longing. She noticed it, and even her dream-self had noticed it. Their reactions were the opposite though.

Lois was worried that Clark really didn’t like her. In the end would she discover that the voice inside her head was just her wishful thinking and that Clark held no romantic feelings towards her at all? It would crush her if she went through all this torment and insanity only to rescue Clark from the wrong destiny and have him not return her love. Was she being that foolish to hope for more than friendship with Clark?

On the other extreme, her dream-self was thankful that Clark was still treating her with less romantic interest after he had spurned her love during Nightfall. They were work partners, friends, and nothing else. She was still denying her true feelings for Clark and had convinced herself to ‘move on’.

The most nightmarish part of the entire dream, which had caused Lois to awake with knots tied in her stomach and drenched in sweat, was that her dream-self had gone on another date with Lex Luthor.

Watching herself preen, admire, and try to impress a man set on destroying her, and all the while not be able to stop the event from unfolding, was a new type of torture for a woman Clark had aptly described as a “control freak”. She could see Lex turning away her questions with a bat of his hand, misdirecting her here, pointing her in the wrong direction there. He treated her in such a patronizing manner. Had she been so gullible in real life? She knew the answer, and it wasn’t one she liked. How could she have been so blind?

Lois was determined not be so blind with Clark. She was jumping into this relationship with both eyes wide open. Luckily for her “with Clark what you see is what you get” as Maisie had aptly told her during their trip to Smallville. During the Corn Festival. In her dreams.

***

Lois crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “You want to do what?”

“Auction you off to charity,” Perry repeated and held up his hands as if showing her the headline. “Win a date with Lois Lane. All benefits going to the orphanage.”

Come on, Lois. It’s for the orphans.

“I don’t like the idea of being treated like I’m a piece of meat. How is this different than prostitution?” she inquired to her boss.

“You didn’t have any problems with the bachelors auctioning off themselves for the blind a few years back,” Perry reminded her.

Lois’ belly twisted as she set her hand on his desk to steady herself. She remembered that auction well. She had bid on Lex Luthor and lost, but he had asked her on another date anyway. It had been their first official date date – not an interview. “Not really selling me on this idea, Chief,” she mumbled.

“You’ll have complete control over the date: where you go, what you’ll do… Everything,” Perry said.

“Everything except with whom I’ll be forced to spend an evening,” Lois snapped, heading out of his office.

“Just think about it, Lois. You haven’t been on a date since…” Perry started and at her sharp expression, changed tactics. “Coates Home for the orphans.”

Come on, honey. Orphans.

Clark would be begging her to do this. Orphans were his pet project. Superman’s too. She sighed. Clark really was adopted, wasn’t he? That was why he felt so strongly towards the orphans.

~I can’t believe you’re encouraging me to auction myself off to the highest bidder, Clark. I would think you’d rather have me at home for an early night of one-on-one dream-dating.~

Well, when you put it that way…

“Do I get to bring my pepper spray?” she asked her boss.

Perry grinned, because he knew he had her. “Wouldn’t ask you to leave home without it.”

Lois exhaled loudly. “Okay. Fine.”

I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this.

~I thought you were encouraging me to date other men.~

Lo-is, Clark groaned.

~What? Are you back on your ‘Lois needs a real man with a body’ kick?~ Lois marched out to her desk. ~You want me to date other men? See what other fish there might be out in the sea? Then fine! I’ll go. I’ll have a great time. Maybe I’ll meet Mr. Right Now. Would you like that? Seeing, hearing, and feeling me be with another man? Is that what you really want, Clark?~

Please, Lois, don’t do this, Clark pled softly. She could hear the pain in his voice.

~It’s too late, Kent. I’ve already agreed to it. Perhaps you’ll remember that the next time before you encourage me to sell myself to the highest bidder!~ she screamed at the voice inside her head.

“Lois!” Jimmy came running up to her desk. “Did you hear?”

Lois shook her head, happy to have a distraction from her argument with Clark. “What?” She followed his gaze over to the televisions. They were all tuned into a breaking news bulletin from LNN.

“This just in from the island of Pacifonesia. Every person in the capital city has disappeared, leaving only ashes where there was just this morning a city of two hundred and seventy-five thousand. Scientists are baffled by what could have caused the people, animals, and plant life to die but allow all the buildings and non-organic structures to remain intact.”

“Oh, my God!” Lois mumbled, dragging her eyes away from the TV and back to Jimmy.

“Where’s Superman when you need him, huh, Lois?” he said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.

***

Lois turned towards her partner’s desk as she waited on hold. “Clark, men and women lie to each other all the time. It’s a national pastime. I mean, sometimes it’s okay to lie.”

“It’s never ‘okay’,” Clark rebutted incredulously in his usual Boy Scout manner.

“So, you’re saying that you’ll never lie to your wife?” Lois couldn’t believe him. Every man lied to his wife. Look at her father. He made it his number one priority. Even Perry lied to Alice. Hell, Clark lied to her all the time. Not that she was his wife… maybe his work wife, but certainly not his wife, wife. Back on point. How many of those errands Clark ran really had to be done at that exact minute? Please! “That is assuming that someone is crazy enough to actually say ‘I do’ to you.”

“That’s right.”

“Transfer me to who?” Lois asked the person who finally answered the phone. “I’ve been holding for ten minutes, I don’t want to…” And she was back on hold. Argh! She hated this part of her job. She looked back at Clark. “All right, here’s the scene…”

“Yes,” Clark said politely into the telephone. “I can hold. Sure.”

Lois pressed her lips together. He was just being polite because she hadn’t been. Mr. Contrary. “Your wife has spent the entire day at the beauty parlor. She’s dyed her hair red.”

Clark rolled his eyes in disgust. So, he didn’t like redheads, huh? Or was it that he hated dye jobs? Not that she would do either. Dye her hair red or any other color for that matter and certainly not for Clark. Either he loved her for more than her appearance, no matter how she decided she would look, or he could just blow it out his ear. How did she get onto this train of thought anyway? Clark didn’t love her; he had told her so by not saying anything at all when she had confessed she loved him during Nightfall.

“Cut it all off,” Lois continued with her beauty parlor example. “Just to please you.” As if any woman would do anything to try to please Mr. Perfect over there. “Only it looks ghastly. She comes home. You open the door, and she’s standing there all hopeful, ‘Honey, do you like it?’ What do you do?”

“My wife would know that I loved her just the way she was,” Clark replied full of himself. He would say that. It was exactly what she would want her husband to say. “Why would she dye her hair red?” he went on.

“Oh! That is just…” Lois’ train of thought was cut off with their boss walking slowly between their desks and studying the two of them carefully. She and Clark pretended to be waiting on hold patiently until he moved on. Then she leaned back and gave Clark her patented ‘you didn’t answer my question’ look.

“Okay,” Clark admitted. “I’d tell her the truth. That I love her, but that I liked her hair better the way it was before, but that if she’s happy… that’s the important thing.”

Lois could just tell he honestly thought that was the correct answer to this scenario. She was ecstatic that she no longer had romantic thoughts about him, if this was the way she would have been treated after a bad hair day. Clark clearly didn’t understand women at all.

Someone came back on her line and asked if she wanted to leave a message.

“No, I don’t want to leave a message. I’ve already left a message. Never mind,” she said and hung up her phone. “Poor woman.”

“Who?” Clark asked.

“Your wife. She’s married to Mr. Right. Mr. Always Right.”

Clark gazed at her with a sick expression. Ooooh. Had she hit a nerve? He didn’t like that he got her little test question wrong. Ha! She bet it would be keeping him awake late that night, wondering how he could be honest with his wife without telling her that her hair looks awful. Good, serves Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes right, telling his wife that he didn’t like her new haircut. Every man knows *that* was the wrong answer. It’s in the rule book. Poor Clark. Poor future Mrs. Kent.

Lois sat up in bed. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. No wonder Clark wanted her to auction herself off to the highest bidder.

If they were together, and she got a bad haircut, what would he say? Would Clark tell her to shave it off? Well, she could rest assured that he certainly wouldn’t be telling her it looked good, when it didn’t. Of course, would she believe a man who told her a god-awful haircut looked good when it clearly did not? No, she would know if a man was lying to her. That was her job. And she would hate it if a man said that he liked her haircut, when he didn’t… or couldn’t possibly, because she hated it. No, she would want honesty. Just don’t tell her that it looked better before… her heart ached. No woman wanted to hear that!

How could she accuse Clark of being Mr. Right, let alone Mr. Always Right, when she herself was Ms. Always Right?

***

“All right,” Perry said from the stairwell to the upper levels of the Daily Planet bullpen. “Let’s see if we can finish up this auction without any more interruptions. Everyone dig deep into their wallets, and remember that this is for charity.”

“Uh-huh… uh… yeah… I’ll call you back,” said Lois, hanging up her telephone. She turned to Jimmy. “Another murder. Another woman cut up the same way after the robbery of Claudius’s crown last night.”

“What is this world coming to?” Jimmy asked, shaking his head.

Lois’ eyes widened as the connection crystallized in her mind. “Jimmy! Robbery then murder. Robbery then murder!”

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes, then hissed, “What if the robberies and murders are tied together?”

“Excuse me?” Perry said loud enough to interrupt their conversation.

Lois looked up and saw that her boss was staring right at them.

“Could you guys take a break for maybe five minutes?” he asked them, his hands held out to all the people in the newsroom for the bachelorette auction.

What? The last time he tried to interrupt her work for some charity event in the newsroom all her co-workers got drugged on pheromones. She wasn’t really looking for a repeat performance of those events. Work over charity any day, thank you very much, Chief.

“Thank you. All right. Let’s see who’s first on the auction block this morning?”

Yeah, I bet you couldn’t be quiet for five minutes if you tried anyway, Clark grumbled soft enough she doubted he meant for her to hear it. But that was the problem with being in someone else’s mind, they always heard what you had to say.

Clark was still being a sourpuss from the week before, like it had been his fault that Pacifonesia had been destroyed. As if his being alive and working on the story would have stopped some madman from terrorizing countries with his “death ray”.

Lois stood up. “I think I’m next, Perry,” she announced, walking over to her boss.

“Lois?” Jimmy gaped.

Perry lowered his voice to talk to her. “Now, Lois, I thought you didn’t want to be auctioned…”

“Let’s just make some money for the kids,” she whispered, straightening out her clothes and putting on a smile for all those men she would rather not date.

Are you trying to make some kind of point with this? Clark asked.

Lois could hear the annoyance in Clark’s voice. Good!

~Life goes on, Clark,~ she retorted silently. ~If you want us just to be partners and friends…~

“All right, gentlemen. Here she is, Miss Lois Lane, our prize reporter. So, let’s start the bidding off at say… uh… twenty dollars?”

A hand automatically went up. “Twenty!”

I never said that, Lois.

Perry pointed at the man and started in with his auctioneer voice, “Hey, there’s twenty. Do I hear ‘twenty-five’?”

~You didn’t not say it, Clark.~

I love you.

~Do you, Clark?~

Richie raised his hand. “Twenty-five.”

Oh, not him, Lois. Don’t go on a date with him!

“Twenty-five dollars. Who will bid a thirty? Bid a thirty? A thirty? A thirty dollars for her?”

“Thirty!” this was from Jimmy.

Lois smiled as she watched Jimmy give a patented glare towards Richie.

Way to go, Jimmy!

“Thirty. We’ve got thirty dollars,” Perry continued. “Who’ll bid thirty-five? A five? A five? Bid a five, a thirty-five dollars for her?”

“One hundred dollars,” said Richie, holding up a hundred dollar bill.

Really starting to dislike that guy.

Jimmy’s glare at the man turned to a sneer. He turned his apologetic eyes back to Lois. Obviously her broke partner wasn’t going to save her by outbidding Richie. She was with Clark on this. She didn’t want a date with Richie either. She focused her eyes on her photographer and gave a slight nod. She would back the bid, if need be.

“One fifty,” called Jimmy.

Thank God, Jimmy had understood her telepathic message.

“Way to go, Jimmy! We’ve got one fifty. Do I hear one fifty-five? Who will bid one fifty-five? A five? A five? Bid a five, a one hundred fifty-five dollars for her?”

Ready to date other men there, Lois? Clark murmured with a hint of euphoria. He must have been really worried that she had been serious.

~For the kids, Clark,~ Lois replied, allowing a small satisfied smile to grace her lips. She had gotten what she wanted out of the auction: a jealous Clark admitting that he still loved her. What she would do to get that ghost of hers to get his mind off his self-pity and back on what was important.

Perry grinned at the crowd. “Richie, you aren’t going to let Jimmy steal her away for a mere one hundred fifty dollars, are you?”

Lois turned a sharp gaze at her boss.

“Tax deductible,” coaxed Perry.

Throw her to the sharks, why doesn’t he? Thanks, Chief.

Richie shrugged and Jimmy gloated.

The crowd announced its disappointment in the end of the bidding war.

“All right. One fifty going once,” said Perry, hitting his gavel against the metal railing of the stairs. “Going twice…”

“Ten thousand!” a new voice with an Irish accent called from across the room.

Lois turned to see someone she hadn’t seen in ten years. “Patrick?”

“Ten thousand?” Perry questioned.

“Patrick?” Jimmy mouthed with a stunned expression.

Patrick?

“In the flesh,” Patrick admitted, holding out his arms.

Perry looked over at Lois and caught sight of her wide eyes, before returning his gaze to the newcomer. “Sir, is that ten thousand American dollars?”

“Any way you want it. Dollars, pounds, rubles, gold bars,” Patrick told him.

Her boss chuckled at that thought. Patrick better be careful or Perry would insist that Patrick give the Coates charity ten thousand gold bars.

“Well, sir, I thank you,” the Chief said to her old friend with a slight bow. “And the children thank you.”

Lois walked down the steps and approached Patrick. “What are you doing in Metropolis?”

“I’m here on business,” the Irishman replied. “You look great, filled out in all the right places.”

She blushed bashfully at this brazen comment. “You look great too.”

Charming, Clark drawled sarcastically.

Jimmy approached them and cleared his throat.

“Oh! Jimmy. This is Patrick Sullivan. I met him when I was an exchange student in Ireland,” Lois explained.

“I’m sorry about outbidding you, lad,” Patrick said pleasantly. “But Lois and I go way back. The very thought of having her to myself for the night sent shivers down my spine and directly into my wallet.”

Evening. A dinner date happens in the evening, not night.

Lois smiled at Patrick’s lame excuse and glanced at Jimmy. His expression, she imagined, mirrored the one she heard in Clark’s tone. Neither of her men liked Patrick.

“Well, Jimmy Olsen is my…” She looked at her photographer. Clark truly was her partner – in every sense of the word, but in this reality, in this destiny, that title went to Jimmy. “— partner, here at the Planet.”

“I’ve seen the poster. The other half of Lane and Olsen,” said Patrick, holding out his hand.

Jimmy took Patrick’s hand and Lois could see him squeezing it tighter than necessary, trying to make an impression – albeit not a good one. “James. James Olsen,” Jimmy corrected.

Patrick looked uncomfortable. “That’s quite a grip you have there, James. You must work out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Jimmy said, casually wrapping his arm around Lois’ waist. “Lois and I do tae-kwon-do together.” That was a blatant lie. Jimmy couldn’t do a roundhouse kick if his life depended on it. She really should introduce him to martial arts.

Lois stepped away from Jimmy’s arm and guided Patrick to her desk. “So, how’s your father?”

Jimmy followed them, keeping a close eye on the man who had outbid him.

“I’m afraid he’s got a bit of an illness and had to check into hospital,” Patrick said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied Lois. “Patrick’s dad was the greatest storyteller: Druids and wizards and virgin sacrifices. Ugh. He made up all this creepy stuff.”

“What makes you think he made it up?” teased Patrick.

Lois laughed; as if any of that stuff could be real.

You mean like time travel, ghosts, and superheroes?

She coughed. ~Not now, Clark!~ She cleared her throat. “So, ten thousand dollars. You didn’t happen to see that movie Indecent Proposal, did you?”

“Yes,” Patrick replied. “I loved it.”

Lois felt awkward that her old friend interpreted her joke thusly. Patrick had always been flirtatious, but he was taking it a bit far and too heavy for her taste. She hadn’t liked being auctioned off like a prize steer. Referring to her as being equal to a prostitute wasn’t earning Patrick any points either. This date was for dinner and nothing else.

Thank goodness for small miracles.

“At your hotel?” Jimmy echoed. He cast a glance at Lois, and she knew what he was thinking. It wasn’t hard; Clark was suggesting the same thing.

~It’s just dinner, guys. Please! Big girl here. Can handle myself.~

“Excuse me,” Lois said to Jimmy, informing him that he was overstepping his bounds. “Your hotel sounds great.”

“I’m staying at the Lexor in the Junior Luthor Suite,” Patrick informed her.

Suddenly dinner took on a completely feel than two friends becoming reacquainted. “Actually, Patrick, I can’t…” She swallowed. There was no way she would make it through dinner at the ‘Luthor’ anything.

“In point of fact, Lois, I have a check for ten thousand dollars that says that you can,” Patrick replied.

He didn’t just say that, did he? Taking another look at Patrick’s expression, he had.

Lois gazed at Jimmy and saw his hands turning to fists by his side. He knew what Lex’s name did to her and how she hadn’t wanted to be auctioned off for this very reason. She smiled at him. Jimmy was a good friend. She wrapped her arm around Jimmy’s waist. “Didn’t we celebrate the first night of our honeymoon at the Lexor, Jimmy?”

Her partner glowed with the appreciation that his anger was not displaced. He ran a hand through her hair. “I cannot recall. All I remember is that it was the happiest night of my life,” Jimmy said, playing along. “Then that weekend on that island off the coast of Rio.” His smile grew exponentially. “I’ll never forget it. Because of you I almost lost my head.”

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you saying that I bought a married woman?” Patrick spat out.

Lois smiled at him with a warmth that she didn’t feel. “You didn’t buy anything more than dinner, Patrick. And technically, he and I are engaged. We’re still working out some snafus, but soon, very soon, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Clark Kent.”

“What?!” Jimmy and Patrick gasped at the same time.

She winced. “Olsen… James Olsen… Mr. and Mrs. James Olsen,” she corrected, tripping over her tongue.

“I see,” Patrick said, raising a brow. He didn’t believe her one bit. Crap.

“When you said dinner at your hotel, naturally I assumed you meant the hotel restaurant,” Lois explained, removing her hand from Jimmy’s waist and crossing her arms. “For ten thousand dollars, you are welcome to have both Jimmy and I dine with you in your suite, two for the price of one. If you would rather dine with me alone, we can eat in the privacy of a public restaurant. But even if you offered me ten thousand dollars for my own pocket on top of the ten you’ve already given to the Coates charity for orphans, I would never set foot inside a Luthor Suite – Junior or otherwise.”

Patrick nodded. “So, when you said that you couldn’t eat in my suite, you meant that suite in particular, you didn’t mean with me?”

She nodded.

“Oh, Lois, I’m sorry. There has been a terrible misunderstanding. No, of course, we don’t have to eat in my suite,” Patrick tried to make up for lost ground. “Please, for old time’s sake, Lois. I’ll take you to any restaurant in the city. Just the two of us.”

“I would have agreed to that until you insisted that you had bought and paid for me,” Lois informed him. “Now, where I go, Jimmy will accompany me as my bodyguard, just to be on the safe side.”

For good measure, Jimmy crossed his arms as well. Even together they weren’t half as intimidating as Superman, but they were a force to be reckoned with.

“The Lois Lane I used to know didn’t need bodyguards,” Patrick reminded her.

“That was several multi-millionaires ago,” replied Jimmy. “After the third one tried to kill her, I started to insist on a chaperone.”

Patrick chuckled. “Is he serious?” At their expressions, he realized that they were. “How about we start at an Irish pub I know, Casey’s, over on Main and…”

“I know the place,” Lois agreed. “We’ll see you there. Seven o’clock?”

Jimmy relaxed and headed back to his desk.

“I guess there’s no chance to rekindle the old flame,” Patrick said in a low voice. “I have never forgiven myself for letting you get away.”

“I’m flattered, Patrick, but I’m in love with someone else. This is just dinner,” she replied.

“You don’t think I could sweep you off your feet and away from that guy?” Patrick said with a nod towards Jimmy. “He doesn’t seem to trust you much.”

“You should know that it’s character, not money, that impresses me, Patrick. My intended has a truckload of it; it’s hard to compete with that,” Lois said, thinking of Clark. “And it’s you he doesn’t trust. He knows I can handle myself.”

Not to mention after Superman, no other man could ever sweep you off your feet again, try as he might.

~Ha ha, Farmboy. You did.~

“Well, tonight then, Lois,” Patrick said, backing away.

As soon as her old friend was at the elevators, Jimmy rejoined her. “Lois, can we talk in the conference room?”

~Oh, great, ~ Lois groaned. Jimmy better not think she had been serious about that whole engagement/marriage ruse. “Sure, Jimmy.” She placed a smile on her face and followed him into the conference room. Might as well get this conversation over and done with.

Jimmy closed the door and turned to face Lois. He appeared nervous. “Um… Lois?” He sat down in a chair and then changed his mind and stood back up.

“Yes?” Lois said with a little impatience. She wanted to get started on that new lead about the murders being tied to the missing artifacts.

“I wanted to ask you about CK,” Jimmy said but then didn’t continue.

Lois crossed her arms. “What about him?”

He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. Finally, he said, “Do you have a photo of him?”

That came out of left field. “No,” she stated.

“Is he coming back to Metropolis?”

She shifted uncomfortably onto her other foot. “Not yet.”

“Did you find him?”

“No,” Lois answered shortly, wondering where he was going. “His parents hadn’t seen him.”

“His parents?” Jimmy echoed skeptically.

“Yes. I met them in Kansas. What’s with all these questions about Clark, Jimmy? I’ve got a story to write,” she reminded him.

“I’m worried about you,” he replied slowly.

Lois smiled, relaxing. She patted his arm. “I’m fine. I’ll find him. It’s just taking longer than I expected.” She headed towards the door.

“While you were on vacation, I ran into Sarah…”

She stopped at the door, unable to open it. “How’s Sarah? Finish up her degree yet?” Lois asked with too much faux cheerfulness. “You two getting back together?”

Jimmy ignored her questions and continued, “She asked how you and Scardino were doing, and I told her you broke up with him to chase after an old boyfriend of yours.”

“Oh?” Lois said, opening the door ready to escape.

“Named Clark.”

She winced, but didn’t turn to face him. Lois had told Sarah that Clark was a figment of her imagination, a figure in her dreams. That was before Lois knew the truth. If the young woman told Jimmy what Lois had told her…

“Sarah was really worried. She said that you had told her about Clark and that he wasn’t good for you. Actually, what she said was that ‘it wasn’t healthy’ – you and Clark.”

Lois could hear the concern in Jimmy’s voice, but it didn’t sound like Sarah had ratted her out. She must have taken the oath of fake-therapist seriously.

“Sarah asked that you call her, Lois,” Jimmy went on. “I thought she might be exaggerating… but after what happened out there…”

Lois shut the door and turned to face her partner. “That was just a slip of the tongue, Jimmy. I really appreciate you backing me up. I’m sorry that it wasn’t your bid that won.”

He smiled weakly. “Me too, but we can have dinner together anytime. I’ll be there tonight to back you up. Actually, I’ll bring a date. I met this woman at the museum robbery last night. Veronica. She’s a bit nasally…” He shrugged. “But a real looker and an expert on ancient antiquities.”

Lois laughed. “You’re picking up my bad habits, Jimmy. I thought we were off duty tonight. You’re planning on doing research while out on a date?”

“We’ll tell Patrick that she’s there for research on our story,” he explained. Lois got the strange feeling poor Veronica had been duped into a date under the guise of ‘research’ as well. “You know to go along with our cover story.”

“I don’t think he bought our cover story, Jimmy.”

He scratched his head. “Why is that? How come no matter how many times we tell people we’re in love, engaged or married, nobody believes us?”

Probably has something to do with the fact that you aren’t.

Lois smiled, agreeing with Clark. “I have no idea.”

“I’m never off-duty when it comes to you, Lois. You know that, right?” Jimmy asked.

She nodded. “We okay?”

“Yeah. But, Lois, Sarah’s expression after I told her about Clark though…” He shook his head. “You should just call and reassure her that you’re fine. Okay?”

“Sure,” she replied, opening the door. She planned on keeping as far away from that psych major as possible.

***

Chapter Seventeen

Lois peered through the peephole on her front door. On the other side was a strange woman in a big flouncy shirt, the likes in which Lois wouldn’t be caught dead. The woman was strange only in the sense that Lois didn’t know her. Having lived in Metropolis all her life, Lois had discovered she no longer found people ‘odd’ anymore, just different.

The woman appeared harmless enough and was holding a half-gallon of chocolate fudge ripple ice cream, so it was possible she was actually Lois’ long lost best friend. She opened the door.

“Howdy, neighbor,” said the woman with a shake of her shoulder length black ringlets. “I sensed you needed ice cream.”

“You sensed correctly,” Lois replied with a chuckle. She was always in need of ice cream. Actually, she had just thrown out her last empty pint. “Do I know you?”

The woman handed her the carton. “I’m Star. I recently moved in on the first floor.”

“Ah.” Lois accepted the gift because, as a rule, she never turned down ice cream. It amazed her that she had never been abducted as a child.

Star smiled. “Your partner asked me to come.”

Lois raised a brow. Jimmy? This seemed like the kind of thing he would do, sic some crazy psychic on her. She backed up and let the woman inside. If for no other reason than that Star would distract Lois from becoming cross-eyed while staring at the note with the names and numbers that she still couldn’t comprehend. Tempus, ha! She took the ice cream into the kitchen and put it into her freezer.

“He doesn’t trust the man with the green eyes,” Star explained, sitting down on the sofa.

Lois didn’t recall meeting any man with green eyes. Sitting down next to the woman, she wondered why Jimmy hadn’t just called her himself. “Was there a particular reason he wanted us to talk?” she asked the woman warily. Had Jimmy sent Star to assist them with their story? Or to help her find Clark? It didn’t make sense. Maybe Sarah had told Jimmy more about her dream man than she had assumed.

“He doesn’t think you’re listening to him and he’s blue in the face from trying. So, he thought that perhaps I could talk some sense into you. And you’re right; I couldn’t agree more.”

“Excuse me?” Lois sputtered.

“I was responding to your thoughts. Small weddings are much more romantic.”

Had Jimmy told this stranger that they were engaged? “Star, I wasn’t thinking about my wedding. What would be the point? With the way things are going, I don’t think I’m ever going to get married.”

“Not if you keep seeing other men,” the psychic told her.

“I’m not seeing other men!” Lois said in her defense. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

Star shook her head and then knocked it with her fist. “This thing. Sometimes it picks up mixed signals. I could have sworn I saw you out to dinner with another man… and a bull’s-eye.”

There was no way this woman could have psychically seen her at the pub with Patrick, playing darts. “Lucky guess?”

“Lois, your brain is like a cheap TV, full of static, but one thing is coming through loud and clear,” Star said.

The skeptical reporter couldn’t wait to hear what it was.

“You love Clark.”

Lois’ jaw dropped. No. Well, yes, but there was no way that this woman could have pulled that out of thin air. “Jimmy told you.”

Star scrunched her eyes. “Who?”

Hadn’t Star told her that Jimmy had sent her? Fine, Lois would play along. “Yes, I love Clark. I love him so much,” Lois said. It felt good to say those words aloud, to have someone to talk to about Clark.

“Of course you do. When I checked out your future, your partner was worried by what I saw,” Star replied. “Frankly, I was worried too, because usually when I look into the future I see the future.”

That sounded reasonable. “Okay,” Lois responded.

“But now I only see the past,” explained Star.

“You see the past in my future?” Lois asked. What the…? Wait. Her dreams were of the past. If her dreams with Clark became reality would that mean they would also be her future?

“Now, this is the weird part…” continued Star.

It wasn’t already weird?

“It’s not just your future,” Star said with wide eyes. “Everyone in Metropolis’s future as well.”

If history needed to be rewritten again to accommodate Clark being alive instead of dead, his presence alone would impact everyone he met and every person who read his work… therefore, everyone in Metropolis. So far, Lois was following what Star was saying.

“Is this going to happen soon? This rewriting of history?” Lois asked, sitting on the edge of her seat – literally – and clutching her hands together.

“You don’t seemed surprised by this,” Star observed, impressed. “I guess I shouldn’t be taken aback that this doesn’t faze you. He said you’re a genius.”

“Well…” Lois shrugged modestly. That was always nice to hear.

“Anyway, it happens after the dead man returns,” Star explained.

Lois’ jaw dropped. Clark was coming back to her! She hugged Star. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

“Well, he’s not actually dead. Just a part of him is dead. Can you be partially dead?” Star seemed stumped by her own logic.

“Soon?”

“Yes, the dead man returns. You die. Then time starts over,” Star said, ticking the timeline off on her fingers.

“I die?” Lois gulped. No, that couldn’t be. Clark couldn’t come back, only to find her dead. No! No, Star must be wrong. But if she was wrong about this, did that mean she was wrong about Clark returning as well?

Star knocked the event out of the air as unimportant. “You die, but it’s not really you.” She lifted up her finger. “Actually, it’s this… your death, or what is assumed to be your death… is the catalyst for time to change. I guess it angers the gods or something.”

“Gods?” As in more than one? Who was this woman?

Star shook head. “Although I don’t know why there is a need to change the past if you’re not really dead.” She shrugged. “Do you think it might be a mistake?”

“And will I be happy?” Lois had to ask. “When the mostly dead man returns?”

“Oh, no. You’ll be miserable.”

“What?” How could she be miserable with Clark alive?

“Oh, yes. He’s a tyrant. And you must be on the lookout for his ex-wife. She’s the one who kills you… the ‘other you’ you. The one that’s not you,” clarified Star with this rain of mud.

“Clark’s a tyrant? And married?” Lois gasped. That couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t. Of course, with her history with men it made perfect sense. Paul, Claude, Lex…

“Clark? Oh, right. Him… um…” Star closed her eyes in thought. “No. Well, yes, but not really.”

Lois was getting nowhere fast with this woman.

“He was engaged, but it got broken off because he met you… only not you.” Star’s brow furrowed.

“The not me that gets killed?” Lois tried to understand.

“No. The ‘not you’ that gets killed won’t really be you, just someone made to look like you. This ‘other you’ that broke up Clark’s engagement really is you, only not really.”

Lois stood up and walked to her freezer. She pulled out the ice cream that Star had brought and grabbed a spoon out of the dish drainer. This was becoming a double chocolate ice cream type of conversation and then some. After she had swallowed a bite, she tried to comprehend again. “So, there are three of me in my future? Me-me? Me – that really isn’t me, who gets killed by Clark’s ex-wife? And me – who really is me, but isn’t, who also happened to break up Clark’s engagement?”

“Oh, no. The you that broke off his engagement isn’t in your future. She’s in his past. And she’s married to Clark now, so you don’t have to worry about her. And the ex-wife isn’t Clark’s ex…”

“Clark is married to this other me? The me that dies?” Lois grasped onto something that made sense.

“No, the one that broke up his engagement. And she’s married to her Clark, not your Clark,” Star said, eyeing the ice cream.

“There’s more than one Clark? What? The ‘before’ Clark and the ‘after’ Clark?” Lois asked.

Star hit herself in the forehead. “Of course! Now, it all makes sense.” She got up and retrieved another spoon.

Lois stared at Star. “It does?”

“Yes. There’s Old Clark and New Clark,” the psychic announced with a grin. “I wondered why Clark said to tell you goodbye. He’s not coming back. He’s lost, but he knows you’ll be okay, because you’ll have the New Clark, see?”

“No!” Lois shook her head. “No, I don’t see.” She dug back into the ice cream.

“Old Clark gets lost when the future becomes the past. He’ll be Old Clark, but you’ll have a New Clark.”

“I don’t want a New Clark, I love the Old Clark!” Lois said adamantly.

“You’ll love the New Clark too,” Star reassured her.

The reporter’s jaw dropped open. “I will?”

“Yes.” Star patted Lois on the knee. “And the New Clark needs you. Right now he’s drowning in sorrow because he lost his Lois like you’ll lose your Clark. Well, lost your Clark.” She cocked her head to the side. “You don’t really have him, do you?”

Lois shook her head. “Of course I have my Clark! Clark? Clark!” she called to him, but he didn’t answer. He had been mostly quiet all day. ~Clark?~

“See. Gone.”

“No!” Lois cried, standing up. “Clark? He can’t leave me. Not now. He promised. Clark?”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” said Star. “When the past becomes your future he will be lost.”

“Then let’s stop the past from becoming the future!” Lois said. It seemed obvious what must be done. “I’ve invested too much to lose Clark now. Tyrant or not.”

“Clark isn’t a tyrant.”

“Huh?” Hadn’t Star said that the dead man was a tyrant?

“You’ll still have New Clark,” Star reminded her.

“And is New Clark like Old Clark?” Lois snapped, getting more and more aggravated by this whole scenario. As if people were interchangeable. Why was she giving this woman time of day again?

“Yes and no. He is a different man.”

Lois pressed her lips together. “Yes and no?”

“Yes, in all the ways that are important. He will love you more than anyone ever has. He will protect you and care for you. The two of you will be happy until death do you part.”

“Will he love me more than Old Clark does?” Lois inquired skeptically.

Impossible.

~Clark! Oh, Clark. You are here. You haven’t left me.~

No, Lois, I haven’t left you.

“Well, no. You and Old Clark are a perfect fit. One hundred out of one hundred. Soul mates. Once your life with New Clark has ended and you have died, you and Old Clark will find each other again. You and New Clark are a close match, but only like ninety-five out of one hundred. Alike souls but not a perfect match. You will be happy with New Clark, Lois, and he will be happy with you. You both will take what life has dealt each of you and make the most of it.”

“But I don’t want New Clark. He’s the wrong Clark. I want one hundred out of one hundred Old Clark!” Lois complained through gritted teeth.

That’s what I want too, honey, but if it doesn’t happen, if I can’t be there for you, I’d rather you find happiness with this New Clark – as long as he isn’t a clone – than with Luthor, Scardino, or Patrick. Because if this New Clark is anything like me, he’ll love you with all of his being.

~But he won’t be you.~ Lois choked back a sob. ~I refuse to love him. I’ll fight it tooth and nail,~ she protested to her Clark.

Like you jumped into my arms, love at first sight?

She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She set the half-gallon of ice cream on the coffee table and faced Star. “You said that I die after Clark returned from the dead, right?”

“No, I didn’t say that. Old Clark remains dead,” said Star, reaching over to the ice cream with her spoon.

“What about his ex-wife?” Lois screamed.

I was never married, Clark said at the same time Star told Lois, “Not Clark’s ex-wife.”

“Huh?” Lois’ head was swimming with Old Clarks, New Clarks, and three, possibly four, hers – only one of which was actually her. Then who was the fiancée or was it the ex-wife that kills one of her?

The phone rang, jarring her spinning head back to normal. Lois went to her desk. “Hello?”

“Lois, I have some information on that druid mask that you asked me about,” said Patrick.

“You do? Terrific! Thanks for helping me out, Patrick,” Lois replied. Finally, some headway on this robbery / ritual killing spree. She was so glad she got over all that Indecent Proposal paranoia mess from the other day. As an antiques dealer, Patrick had kindly volunteered to help with getting information on the stolen artifacts.

“I hate do this, but can I ask you to meet me at my suite? All the information is here,” Patrick suggested.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right over,” the reporter told him, hanging up. She turned back to Star. “I’ve got to go.”

“Okay,” Star said, following her out. “Oh! Oh! Don’t open the cabinet with the glowing green eyes.”

“Right. The cabinet with the eyes,” Lois repeated, taking the advice with a grain of salt. “I won’t open it.” Truthfully, she was relieved to stop thinking about this whole New Clark, Old Clark, future returning to the past conundrum.

***

Lois turned away from the cabinet in Patrick’s suite. Besides the disturbing photo collage that Patrick had collected of her, what had initially had drawn her to the armoire was the green glowing gems in the eyes of an old silver mask. She sighed. “I don’t believe it.” Star had been right.

Run!

~You heard Star. I’m not dying anytime soon, Clark. Stop worrying.~

A groan of frustration was his only response.

“I’m afraid it’s true,” Patrick said, announcing his return to the room.

Lois spun around to face him. “Patrick, this is the mask that was stolen last night, wasn’t it?”

“The Mask of the Ancient Ones?” Patrick said, taking the mask away from her. “Yes. I told you I had information about it.”

She felt like rolling her eyes at herself. She fell into another trap, didn’t she? One of these days she would learn not to run into a situation like this without back-up.

You will?

“Well, this is a shame.”

“What? That I’ve discovered my instincts about you were right?” Lois responded, edging towards the door. Patrick’s associate Shamus, grabbed her by the shoulders before she got half-way across the room.

Fight!

She tried to pull herself free, but his grip was too firm. She leaned back against Shamus and kicked her old friend in the chest with a front kick using both of her legs, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Hold her!” reprimanded Patrick.

Next thing Lois knew she was tied to a long glass top table. Patrick placed some hideous skull candlesticks onto the table – one above her head and two others down by her feet. How could she ever have described them as beautiful? He and Shamus had donned robes.

What was that about not dying any time soon?

~Really? Now? Do you really think this is the time for an ‘I told you so’?~

“Maybe you can answer something for me,” Lois said to Patrick. “What is it about the filthy rich that makes you all want to kill me?”

“Hush, my sweet,” Patrick replied, drawing the hood of his robe over his head. “I love you.”

“This…” Lois said, tugging on her bindings. “… isn’t love.”

Patrick shrugged. “You like to interfere where you shouldn’t?” he suggested an alternative reason with a nod to his associate, who also raised his hood.

“You used to call that ‘spunk’ and as I recall, you used to admire that about me,” Lois reminded him.

Patrick looked her over from head to shoes with unveiled interest. “I’ve always admired everything about you.”

I don’t think you’re going to talk him out of this.

~Any brilliant ideas, then?~

Knock over a candlestick, Clark suggested.

Lois pulled on the ropes once more. Her wrists were too tightly bound to reach the candlestick holder between them. She turned her head and saw Patrick retrieve the large dagger from the side table. ~Any better ideas?~

Clark was quiet long enough for her to decide that he didn’t.

“Help!” she screamed as Patrick popped off the button from her suit jacket with the tip of the knife.

He leaned over her. “Lois, if nobody came when the other women screamed, what makes you think they will come now?”

“Superman! Help!” she shouted, thrashing around on the table. Patrick and Shamus exchanged a perplexed expression as Patrick passed the dagger over to his associate.

Shamus held the dagger above his head to stab her abdomen.

“I can’t believe you aren’t man enough to murder me yourself, you coward,” Lois hissed at Patrick.

He held up a hand to stop Shamus. “Coward? I’m no coward.”

“Sure you are, Patrick. Any man who has to strap a woman down to have his way with her isn’t going to win any awards for bravery,” she informed him. “You’re pathetic.”

Not helping here, Lois.

“I’m pathetic?” roared Patrick. “I’ll show you pathetic!” He stepped over to his desk and put on the Mask of the Ancient Ones.” The mask fused with his face, and she could see a green ghostly figure arrive and inhabit his body.

“Still pathetic, Patrick,” she taunted him as he stood over her again, this time holding the dagger himself. “You need some magical being to be man enough to kill me. I thought for this offering to be real, you needed to sacrifice the one you most love? Well, I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you. Some sacrifice I’ll be. An insult to the druid gods is more like it.” The knife hesitated over her.

What are you doing?

~If he derives pleasure from killing me, it isn’t much of a sacrifice, is it?~

You are nuts. You’ll be dead!

~So, you’re dead. Star said once I’m dead we can be together again. It doesn’t look like I’ve got much of a choice here.~

No, Lois, not like this. You need to fight. Live!

~Fine! But if I end up falling for New Clark, I’m blaming you,~ Lois retorted, starting to use her entire weight to rock the table. This table was quite sound, heavier than she thought, and didn’t want to budge.

“Hold her!” newly possessed Patrick ordered to his henchman.

Shamus went to hold her down and Lois was able to get in a good head-butt. Thankfully, he wasn’t expecting it and slipped to the floor. She heard Patrick roar with anger, and she rocked the table over, knocking one of the candlesticks onto Patrick. His robes caught fire as if he had been covered by a silent flash powder, and he started to holler as the door of the suite burst open.

“Housekeeping! I’ve got towels,” announced the same maid who had kept barging in on her and Jimmy’s stay at the honeymoon suite, as she popped into the room.

The maid saw Shamus passed out on the floor, Lois tied to the upturned table, and Patrick on fire nearby, and rightly flew out of the room screaming. A few moments later, Lois heard the fire alarm go off down the hall.

Lois had to love the Lexor Hotel for its excellent customer service in lack of guest privacy.

***

Jimmy wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and handed her a cup of bullpen coffee.

Lois smiled up at him. Detective Wolfe had called Jimmy after he had found her tied to the table. Her partner had picked her up from the Lexor and taken her back to the office. They were now sitting in the conference room. Actually, the detective had wanted Jimmy to take her home, but she had a story to write, so Lois had insisted that they return to the Planet. Wolfe expected her down at headquarters first thing the next morning for more questioning. “Thanks, Jimmy. I don’t know why Wolfe called you; I’m fine.”

Her partner knelt down in front of her. “Lois, he said that you were hysterical and calling out for Superman to rescue you.”

“I was not!” Lois defended her actions and then mumbled, “I only called out for him once.”

Not helping your case here.

Jimmy raised a brow. “I thought we had discussed this. There is no such thing as this Superman.”

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” Lois grumbled. “Anyway, I can believe in flying superheroes, if you’re allowed to call my neighbor and tell her to check out my future.”

“What?” Jimmy’s face was a picture of disbelief.

“Star. My neighbor, the psychic,” she reminded him. “You called her and told her to check out my future. You were worried I wasn’t listening to you, so for some strange reason you thought I’d listen to her instead.”

His jaw dropped open for a long moment before he said, “Lois, I didn’t call your neighbor.”

“Of course you did. She said my partner sent her. Who else could …?” The words caught in her throat. Who else, indeed? “Clark,” Lois breathed, her hand covering her mouth.

Yes, honey?

“Clark? This Clark – CK fellow – isn’t your partner, Lois, I am. Are you saying that he contacted this Star woman on my behalf? That he’s impersonating me?” he sputtered. “Sarah was right; he isn’t good for you.”

Lois waved that idea out of the air. “No, Clark contacted her on his behalf.” Her mind was still trying to grasp the truth that Clark had talked to someone other than her. She wasn’t crazy.

“What? Why would he call himself ‘your partner’ then?” Jimmy asked.

“Because he is my partner, in an alternate reality,” Lois said absently, letting the blanket fall as she stood up to start pacing. Clark was real. She had seen his grave. She had spoken with his parents and, now, he had contacted someone other than herself! She felt so relieved. Not that she had been nervous or anything. She had known the whole time she wasn’t crazy.

“Lois!” Jimmy said, grabbing her shoulders.

“Huh?” She shook her head and tried to focus on him. “What?”

“You’re starting to act really weird. Clark isn’t from this reality?” he asked incredulously.

Other realities? Dimensions? Was that what Star meant by the other her and the other Clarks? “No, Clark is from this reality, but from another time,” Lois tried to explain. From Jimmy’s stunned expression she clearly wasn’t doing it well. “Clark is meant to be alive. He’s supposed to be my writing partner at the Planet. We…” She paused as she realized that Jimmy wasn’t one of the partners. “— the three of us – work together to uncover the truth. Understand?”

Jimmy shook his head. “No.”

“I know this sounds crazy…”

“Yes, Lois, it sounds very crazy. This is just the type of thing that Sarah warned me to be on the lookout for,” he told her.

“What?! No,” Lois said, gesturing that theory of her lack of sanity out of the conversation. “Sarah just thinks he’s from my dreams because that’s what I told her. That was before I realized my dreams aren’t dreams, but repressed memories.”

“Lo-is,” Jimmy groaned. “I did research on this CK guy. He doesn’t exist. There is no reporter with the name Clark Kent that has printed an article in the past ten years in any newspaper.”

“Of course he doesn’t exist, Jimmy; someone, somehow went back in time and killed him off before he became a reporter, so Clark doesn’t exist now. Only, he’s supposed to. That’s why I have these repressed memories.” Duh! Lois froze. That word sounded familiar and not because she was apt to speak it often enough. It meant something else. It was there on the tip of her tongue, on the edge of her memory, yet still not within her grasp. Damn! She needed to figure out a way to get access to those memories.

“Lois,” Jimmy said, picking up the phone. “I know it’s late, but I’m going to call Sarah and ask her for a referral. You need to talk to a professional about this.”

“A professional?” Lois scoffed. Who was a professional in time-travel? Repressed memories? A psychiatrist?! “No! I’m not nuts, Jimmy.”

He covered up the mouthpiece of her phone, sending her an expression of concern. “Lois, you’re telling me that you believe in flying superheroes, time-travel, and your dreams are repressed memories of an alternative life. What do you expect me to believe?”

“Me,” she said simply. “You know I’m the last person in the world to believe in any of these things.”

“Which is why I’m worried about you,” he explained, dialing.

Lois took the phone out of his hand. “Jimmy, these past few months alone we’ve dealt with you being brainwashed, someone who wanted to do a head-transplant, that insane machine that can super-fry an entire city, and now Patrick and his mystical druid mask – give me the benefit of the doubt here. I know I sound bonkers, but what I’m saying isn’t any more off-the-wall than those things.”

He held out his hand for the receiver. “Those other things were verifiable, Lois. Your hypothesis about CK isn’t. You’ve lived through enough stress to make an average person certifiable. Either way, I’m still going to ask Sarah for a referral. You’ve been acting really odd lately.”

Lois hung up the phone rather than handing it back to him. “By the way, I know Superman isn’t real. A man that pure of heart, who also looks that hot in a skintight suit, isn’t going to fall for someone like me. He’s definitely just a fantasy.”

“Eww, Lois,” Jimmy said as an expression of horror crossed his face. “Too much information.”

She shot him a beaming grin and headed out to her desk.

A few minutes later, Lois sensed Jimmy standing behind her as she typed. He reached over her shoulder and pointed at the screen. “Perry’s not going to accept that, Lois. Hearsay. You’re the only one who witnessed Sullivan catching fire and disappearing into a cloud of ash.”

“And I’m too batty to use my observations as fact anymore?” she retorted. “And the maid saw him on fire. Why do you think she pulled the fire alarm?”

He sat down next to her desk and Lois continued to ignore his presence. After a while, he sighed heavily. “Sarah said that she takes a seminar with Dr. Maxwell Deter of the Metropolis Neuroscience Center. She really likes him.”

“Uh-huh,” Lois replied with no enthusiasm. “Good for her.”

“Maybe he can help you,” Jimmy suggested. “He’s apparently top in his field with repressed memories, amnesia, and memory loss.”

She shot him a skeptical raised eyebrow. “By doing what? Electroshock therapy? Hypnosis? Thank you, no.” She turned back to her computer as she continued typing. “After what happened last time I got hypnotized…” She wouldn’t risk her connection to Clark by giving some psychiatrist, whose only goal would be to rid her of this voice inside her head, a back-stage pass to her mind.

“Well, I’m going to do some research on this Dr. Deter and see if he’s on the level. See what kind of techniques he uses,” Jimmy said, standing up. “Maybe you’ll come to your senses.”

“Doubt it,” Lois responded, continuing to type. “Since I’m still sane.”

As she waited for the printer to spit out the hard copy of her article, she reviewed what Jimmy had told her. No, she wouldn’t give that Deter fellow a call. Maybe she could find someone else instead – someone she could trust – to see if she could access more of these repressed memories. The more information she had about her past with Clark, the quicker she could figure out who wanted to kill him enough to go back in time. Her memories were trickling too slowly into her conscience as it was; she needed a flood.

Star! Lois wondered if the psychic did that sort of thing. Why hadn’t she thought of her before? Probably because she didn’t trust psychics, but Clark obviously had, since he had contacted her. Lois could trust anyone Clark trusted, couldn’t she?

“What’s going on here?!” Perry said, stomping out of the elevator and over to Lois’ desk. “Darlin’, you okay? Jimmy said that I needed to come in to stop the presses and add the story to the morning edition that some psycho tried to kill you.”

Same plot, different day, new psychopath.

“I’m fine, Chief,” Lois informed her boss, trying not to both smile and scowl at Clark’s words. Smile, because every time she heard his voice she knew Clark was still around. Scowl, because he was once again moaning about her lack of forethought before rushing into danger. “My old buddy Patrick was behind the robberies and ritual killings,” Lois informed the Chief, handing him the copy.

Perry didn’t speak for a minute as he read. “Honey, this isn’t the National Whisper. I can’t print as fact that Patrick Sullivan was embodied by a green spirit who seemed to give him mystical powers. Not even with outside corroboration, which it doesn’t look like you have.”

“But Shamus…”

“Detective Wolfe said he didn’t come to until after Patrick disappeared,” Jimmy reminded her, approaching them. “And he’s not talking.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, taking back her copy and crossing that part out. “We’ll change it to, ‘Sullivan thought the Mask of the Ancient Ones would embody him with the spirits of his druid ancestors, giving him mystical powers’.”

“Better,” Perry said, taking the copy back. “And ‘Sullivan disappeared in a puff of smoke and ash’?” He shook his head. “No, Lois. How about we change that to ‘Sullivan caught fire from the lit candles and disappeared before MPD arrived on the scene’?”

Lois grabbed the copy back. “Yes, it’s better to let the city of Metropolis believe that this deranged lunatic is still at large, even though I saw him disappear, and all that remained was a pile of ash? How about the part where he tied me up and was going to stab me through with a dagger? Or how about this part where he confessed to killing the other women? Can I leave that in or do we need outside sources on those facts as well? No one who’s talking witnessed either of those things.” She pulled a red pen off her desk and started crossing out sentence after sentence on her story. “I’ll just get rid of the part where he was sacrificing me because of some deluded idea that I was his true love. I only have his wall of photos of me to prove that theory. How about ‘Lois Lane’? Maybe I wasn’t there after all, since my word isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.” She threw her copy back at her boss and tossed the red marker back on her desk before she picked up her briefcase.

Perry’s hand rested gently on her shoulder. “Lois?”

She shook off Perry’s hand. “I’m going home and, no, I don’t need an escort. Let’s just assume I’m still sane enough to catch a cab in this town.” Lois shot Jimmy a nasty glare and marched out of the bullpen. She bypassed the elevators – not wanting to stand still for one to arrive – and slammed open the door to the stairwell, smashing it into the wall as she went down the stairs.

That went well, Clark said dryly.

~Very funny, Farmboy. I’ll be lucky to have a job or any flesh and blood friends left in the morning,~ she retorted.

I’m sorry.

~For what?~

Ruining your life.

~You haven’t ruined my life, Clark. I’m just fine doing that on my own.~

But…

~Do you love me?~

From the very first moment…

~Then stop apologizing to me. We’re in this, through thick or thin.~

I don’t deserve you.

~Hey, you’re the one who fell in love with the delusional woman,~ Lois reminded the voice in her head with a half-smile. There was something about Clark that always seemed to calm her occasional bouts of anger.

Occasional?

Lois pressed her lips together. ~You better be worth it. You better not hurt me. You better not make me regret this.~

Clark didn’t respond for the several minutes it took for Lois to stomp through the lobby, pass through the doors to the street, and flag down a cab.

I love you, Lois, with a pure heart. As much as I wish I could say otherwise, I cannot guarantee anything else.

Those words weren’t very reassuring.

***

Chapter Eighteen

“Are you sure about this?” Star asked Lois the next morning. They were sitting on the sofa in Star’s apartment.

After what one could say was not a good night’s sleep in which Lois had dreamt of catching Clark in a lie, she couldn’t wait any longer to know exactly what was going on with that man inside her head. Star knew about Clark and Lois’ future and even that cabinet with the green eyes. Lois knew she could trust her.

“I’m sure,” Lois replied, switching on her mini-cassette recorder. If she was going to ruin her life for this man, she better have as many of the facts as she could collect on him. And as all the facts were buried deep inside her head, this was her only solution.

Star held up a black and white swirling disk that spun around and around and around. “Now I’m going to ask you a few simple questions, just to put you at ease. First, what’s your name?”

“Lois Lane,” Lois responded, staring at Star but strangely not seeing her. All she could see was that spinning disk, even though she didn’t think it was there anymore.

“And where do you live?”

“1058 Carter Avenue.”

“If you could be an animal, what type of animal would you be? Excluding invertebrates, viruses, and certain classes of phytoplankton?” Star rattled off.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Now, remember, you are in a warm secure place. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you can emerge from this session by your choice,” said Star with a calm even voice. It made Lois feel relaxed. “I want you to think back to the Clark dreams you’ve been having lately. If they are repressed memories, no longer repress them. As soon as you remember one dream the next one will be available for you to access. Now, let’s start with the dream you had last night, what did you see?”

Lois felt her eyelids grow heavy and shut.

She was standing in Clark’s trashed apartment, arguing with Inspector Henderson about law enforcement’s inability to do their job. Then Lois and a pouty Clark sat at her desk as she tried to piece his burglary into her article. Clark didn’t seem that appreciative.

Lois felt bad – well, okay, not really – about using his painful experience for her story. As compensation she decided to rub his shoulders. He seemed so tense – stiff like iron. She could feel those muscles she had witnessed all those months ago at the Apollo Hotel when he had been draped in only a towel. When did this man find time to work out? she wondered. She hugged him from behind, leaning against that strong back of his and running her hand down his arm. More muscles! Man, had this guy bought them on sale or something?

That image faded, and Lois now found herself standing at Louie’s pool hall. Clark had run out after that rabbit-quick thief who had stolen his stuff. She picked through Clark’s things on the pool table and found a couple of Polaroid photos. One was of a glowing globe with red continents; the globe was about the size of a large softball. And the other was of a ghostly white-haired man in a white tunic with a white-on-white Superman ‘S’ crest on his chest. Was this a photograph of a hologram? Suddenly, she wasn’t too thrilled at having comforted her partner earlier.

“Clark lied to me,” Lois told Star. “He had found something of Superman’s and he hadn’t told me about it. How could he keep that from me?”

“Lois, who’s Superman?” Star inquired.

“Oh!” Lois could feel a big smile come to her mouth as it did whenever she thought of her Man of Steel. “He’s the most fantastic guy. I love him. I mean, I’m in love with him. We are meant to be together forever and ever. It’s destiny. I felt it when he first held me in his arms. I just knew. Kismet. Fate.”

“Okay,” Star said hesitantly. “Lois, you didn’t answer my question. Who is Superman?”

“Oh, he’s this super fast, extremely strong, flying superhero from the planet Krypton who has come to Earth to fight for truth and justice,” Lois explained. How could Star not know who Superman was? Everyone knew Superman!

“Krypton? No, I’m not familiar with Krypton. I’ll have to ask my friends from the Pleiades… or maybe the Cassiopeians will have heard of …” Star’s voice faded into the background.

Lois found herself at the break table with Clark and Jimmy. She had just confronted Clark about lying to her, but he had just evaded her once again. After she had scared him and Jimmy off, Perry sat down and tried to weasel the truth of the matter out of her. He didn’t even offer her a pathetic Elvis analogy! Thanks; thanks a lot, Perry. Her boss didn’t accept her reasoning that it was okay for her to lie to Clark, because that was what she constantly did, but it wasn’t okay for Clark to lie to her. Men never understood her logic.

She did as Perry suggested; she confronted Clark – told him flat-out that she knew he had lied to her and showed him the photographic evidence. Clark had the nerve to say that because he had grown up on the farm in Kansas, and she had grown up in the bustling city of Metropolis that their standards should be the same. Typical! He had stolen the globe from Superman’s ship at Bureau 39 – all those months ago – and had never told her about it. Now, he expected that she would still be his friend, his partner no less. She couldn’t believe him. Then to top it all off, he ran off on her. Again! Told her to go babysit some pre-teen source down at the Twelfth Precinct. Why did she ever listen to him?

A couple of hours later, Lois had been sitting with Denny, eating donuts – she really needed to find out who supplied the donuts for the Twelfth because they were a whole lot better than the ones they got at the Planet – when Superman arrived with Jack. She had already wormed out of the kid that Denny was Jack’s brother. No wonder Clark had been so interested in the thief; the kid had stolen Superman’s globe from him. Had held the precious artifact in his hand, watched the holographic messages from Krypton. It was a piece of history. Superman’s history.

How could Clark have kept this from her? Sure, he claimed that it only recently started displaying images, but he had lied to her once – how did she know he was telling the truth about that too? Lois realized, she probably would have done the same if she had come across the globe first; so, reluctantly, she had forgiven Clark again. Him giving her the sole byline for the hidden artifacts found had helped put her in a forgiving mood.

Star’s voice broke into her conscience. “Did Clark explain why he lied to you? Did you ever forgive Clark for lying to you?”

“Of course,” Lois admitted grudgingly. “I always forgive Clark. There’s just something about him that’s innately trustworthy. I thought we were on the level and then a few weeks later, do you know what he did?”

“No, what?”

“He dumped me!” Lois roared. “For Linda King! Of all the low-lying snakes in the grass…”

“Clark dumped you?” Star echoed with confusion and shock. “For another woman? Clark?”

“Professionally. He left the Daily Planet to go work at the Metropolis Star!” Lois said as if the man had stabbed her in the heart.

What was she thinking? He had stabbed her in the heart. Perry, on the other hand, was strangely nonchalant about the whole matter, like he hadn’t been betrayed by a man the Chief had brought into the fold of the Daily Planet family, treated like a son, and heaped praise upon. Lois couldn’t believe that Clark had done that to Perry. And over a woman, no less!

Thankfully, she found out that it had just been a ruse. That he was undercover at the Met Star to investigate Linda King’s sudden jump in reporting skills. Lois sighed a breath of relief. She had been afraid that Clark’s brain had been stolen by Martians or something. Worse, a blonde!

Lois grumbled. “He’s supposed to be mine!” She coughed. “My partner. Mine. Between the not telling me his biggest secret when I was hiding Eugene Laderman at my apartment, lying to me about Superman’s globe, and then going behind my back to go undercover at the Star, I don’t know if I can trust Clark anymore.” She sniffled as she choked back a sob.

“Remember, Lois, you are in a safe, warm environment. Nothing can hurt you here,” Star repeated.

Lois took a deep breath and seemed to relax. “Do you know what the worst part is? When I had seen him at the press conference with Linda King, I realized… I knew…” The sobs returned with force.

“What, Lois?”

“That I still have feelings for Clark!” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

“The real you, Lois. Or the you in your dreams?” Star asked.

“What’s the difference?!” Lois shouted. “I’m jealous. I thought I was over him after he didn’t return my love after Nightfall, but I was so terrified that I had lost another man to Linda. And not just any man, but Clark! Clark’s special. He’s mine! He has always been mine from that very first day! True, he’s made me mad on more than one occasion… almost on a daily basis, as a matter of fact. Yet, nobody makes me feel like he does when he smiles at me.” She sighed. “Clark looks at me like I’m the sun and he’d be happy to orbit around me for the rest of his life and that scares me. No one has ever looked at me that way before – like I was the center of his universe. Actually, most men are intimidated by me. A woman with brains playing what they think is a man’s game at a men’s club…” Lois shrugged. Men’s attitude towards her had always been a given. “But Clark isn’t like that, so when he left me… the Daily Planet, that is… I felt like someone had pulled my foundation out from under me.”

“Okay, let’s leave your dreams for the moment, Lois,” Star said, reassuring her. “Can you come back to the present for a minute?”

Lois took a deep breath and released it. “Yes.” A moment later she was calm.

“You said that you only discovered Clark recently. I want you to search your mind for the first dream, the first inkling you had about Clark’s existence. Let me know when you have found that,” the psychic requested.

“Okay,” Lois replied.

“Okay, you understand or okay, you’ve got it?”

“Both,” the reporter answered.

“Oh, okay then. Tell me about this earliest memory of Clark,” Star suggested.

“I’m in the woods. There’s another man there… two other men in fact. One has a mustache and glasses; he’s dressed funny like in a costume from a period play or something. He’s tied to a chair… only, not just a chair. It’s more like a chair on a sled. That’s just plain odd, because it isn’t winter but late spring, and there’s no snow. The other man has a beard and is also dressed strangely, but more like ‘Star Trek’ than ‘Little House of the Prairie’. Crap! He has a gun! He’s trying to shoot me.” Lois started to shake as her breath became labored. “There’s a baby in a bassinette… no, not a bassinette…” She could smell the dampness from the nearby creek, feel the warm breeze despite her goose bumps, and hear the silence where there had recently been crying. “The bearded man wants to kill the baby,” she gasped. “I have to stop him. We fight. The man tied to the chair cheers me on.”

Lois could feel the soreness in her muscles as she kicked the gun out of the bearded man’s hand. Finally, she picked up a large stick and hit future man with it, knocking him out. She untied the man in the chair and threw the rocks off the baby. The green glowing rocks. Only, the rocks weren’t glowing anymore. She picked up the baby and cradled him in her arms. She could taste the tears running down her cheeks and lifted her hand to wipe them away. The baby in her arms was still, unmoving.

She started to hyperventilate. “Oh God! Oh, God! It’s Clark. The baby is Clark! And he’s dead. Oh, God! I was there when Clark was killed. It was the bearded man. He killed Clark!”

“What about the other man?” Star asked calmly. “Who is he?”

“H.G. Wells.”

“The author?” Even Star seemed skeptical.

“Yes. Tempus killed baby Clark by covering him with green rocks. Green glowing rocks, only they’re not glowing anymore.” Lois shook her head. “No, that can’t be right. No. No! That doesn’t make sense. If Clark died due to green rocks…”

Lois dropped her face into her hands and began to sob. Clark was dead, really, honestly dead. She had been there when he had died. She had held his body in her arms. The pain of the experience pierced her like a dagger.

“Relax, Lois. What happened to Clark, happened a long time ago. Remember that you’re in a safe place where no one can hurt you,” Star said, repeating what she had said earlier, but her voice was at a higher pitch than it had been a few minutes before. “Do you want to go on?”

Lois took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes. I need to remember everything about Clark.” Though Star had told her – practically forced her – to relax, Lois’ brain felt like it was moving at a thousand miles per minute, trying to understand what she had just witnessed, putting together pieces of a new puzzle that had been hidden within this other puzzle. It was as if half of her mind was arguing with the other half about the truthfulness of that scene in the woods.

“Let’s not think about what happened to baby Clark right now,” Star suggested. “We already knew that Clark died in the past. You will remember about the day in the woods when you awake, but until then forget about baby Clark. For now, let’s go back to your dreams. What happened after Clark returned to the Daily Planet when his undercover stint at the Metropolis Star was over?”

It was as if Lois had just found the location to where the green glowing puzzle piece in her hands fit, only to discover the puzzle piece, the woods, the strange sled, the man with the gun, and the baby turn to dust and drift away in a gentle breeze. She looked down at her hands and wondered at the emptiness of them. There was a bitterness and a slight taste of salt on the tip of her tongue, but she had no idea why.

What had Star asked? Oh, right, what happened when her partner returned from his undercover assignment? “Clark and I continue to work together on stories and as partners. We’re best friends, nothing more. I give him a hard time about being a hack from Nowheresville, as usual. Socially, I go on a few more dates with Lex Luthor. He introduces me to people with whom I’d never had access to as Lois Lane, investigative reporter,” Lois said.

As she continued to describe her burgeoning relationship with Lex, Lois seemed, once again, to be pulled mentally in two directions. Half of her wanted to gush about Lex’s attentions while the other – more vocal half – screamed in the background. “Lex helps me with my career, opening doors, pointing me towards possible stories. He’s a great source. He’s different than Clark, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I know Lex enjoys my company and has no problem telling me so. It’s flattering that such a powerful and well-connected man finds me attractive and is interested in my work. Plus, I don’t feel like he’s hiding stuff from me, like I’m beginning to suspect that Clark is.”

“Why don’t we put aside how you’re feeling for Lex Luthor at the moment? What about Superman?” Star queried. “Is he still around?”

Lois smiled. Around, that he was. From day one, he had been around whenever she needed him and not around when she didn’t. The only thing was, what Superman didn’t realize, that she always needed him, even when she wasn’t in danger.

“After Superman rescued Linda and me from the Freon gas in the freezer, I didn’t see him one-on-one for a while. I’m still his go-to reporter whenever he has something he wants reported, and he always has a quote for me whenever I see him, but…” Lois shook her head. It wasn’t that Superman had disappeared, it was more like she wasn’t chasing him anymore. It was like his story wasn’t new and exciting… what was she thinking? Of course, Superman was exciting.

“After I had seen him giving all those exclusives to Linda… I don’t know, I guess I realized that maybe I’m not all the special to him. I still love him, but now I’m wondering if he returns my feelings or if I was just another reporter among many. These doubts intensify one day after he rescues a plane in France. Suddenly, he seems to be all over the world at once except Metropolis, when he used to spend most of his time here. I’m worried that I’ve done something to offend him and chase him away from town. Clark thinks I’m being paranoid and believes that Superman still remains loyal to Metropolis, but I’m not so sure.”

Lois watched as a new image or memory of herself filled her mind.

She ran to the scene of a just-ended hostage situation at a bank where she found Superman speaking to officers. It was the first time Lois had seen him in Metropolis in days. As she approached him, the criminal pulled away from police, but a moment later Superman stopped the man and threw the robber into the police van, knocking the man out cold. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Superman didn’t act like that. He was always polite and gentle, never wanting to hurt anyone, even the bad guys – no matter how much they were begging for it. Had something happened to him like when he had been hypnotized?

When Lois walked up to her hero to talk to him about what had just happened, he smirked at her. Smirked! Superman didn’t smirk. Then the man looked her up and down like he didn’t know who she was and as if he had just x-rayed through her clothes. She felt violated, not thrilled, by the action. What was up with him?

“I start having flashbacks to when Superman first arrived in Metropolis and I thought he didn’t remember me. Superman has always reassured me that he considers me one of his closest friends,” she explained to Star. His erratic behavior baffled her. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

The picture in her head changed again.

It was the next day, and Lois was working at her desk, when the strangest, most bizarre and wonderful thing happened. A messenger arrived with a note from Superman. The Man of Steel apologized profusely for his manners from the day before and wanted to see her.

“But then Superman invited himself over to my place for dinner. It’s so out of the ordinary, so unlike him, so forward. I was ecstatic! Finally, our relationship is going somewhere. About time!” Lois sighed. “But when he gets to my apartment he starts acting all weird again and spouting strange sayings like ‘might is right’. He definitely didn’t seem like himself. Then he practically pounced on me and kissed me! Superman never kisses me. I always initiate the kiss; he is too much of a gentleman. Whoever that man was in my apartment, I knew one thing right then and there: he wasn’t Superman.”

Lois pushed against Superman’s chest, trying to get him to stop kissing her, trying to squirm out from under him. He was bigger and stronger, and there was no way for her to defend herself. She was most thankful that the real Superman wasn’t anything like this guy. Superman’s strength in the body of a regular man – a man without the hero’s innate goodness – was a recipe for disaster, and she didn’t need to know how to cook to know that! Then a peculiar thing happened; peculiar as in a miracle, and Lois didn’t believe in miracles. Clark burst into her apartment… as if he knew she needed his assistance. The fake Superman told him to ‘go away’ and actually threw a punch at Clark. Then a second miracle happened: her partner stopped him.

That image of the fake Superman trying to hit Clark and her partner grabbing his arm froze in her mind. She looked at it, somehow able to walk around it, studying it from all angles. How? How could Clark do that? That fake Superman was at least as strong as the real one. How had Clark been able to stop the punch? Surely, the only person able to stop such a hit would be…

Lois gasped as another thought zipped across her mind. No! It couldn’t be.

She studied the two men in this frozen image in her mind. Both had the same height, same color hair – although styled slightly different, same skin tone, different clothes, and Clark wore glasses. Behind those glasses were…

“Lois? Are you saying there’s a fake Superman in your dream?” Star asked, confused.

“Yes, ‘cause the real one is… is…” Lois stammered. Her eyes flashed open and she got to her feet. Now that she was awake from the hypnosis, the memory from the Smallville woods returned, stronger, clearer, and with more detail. “Clark!”

She clutched her head as she recalled Tempus, laughing and saying, ‘Duh! Clark Kent is Superman!’

“Oh, my God!” Lois gasped. “I got to go.”

“Lois?” Star seemed surprised by her quick jump out of her trance. “Are you sure you’re all right? You should take a minute…”

“No,” Lois answered, nodding her head. She grabbed her briefcase and mini-cassette recorder. “I just realized I’m certifiably insane. I should go now.” She continued to nod at Star and then turned to the door.

“Well, you seem sane to me,” Star replied. For some reason, this didn’t reassure Lois.

“All this time I thought these dreams were repressed memories, but if they’re memories that would mean… No. No, it can’t be. He wouldn’t lie to me like that. It can’t be true. No,” Lois rambled, shaking her head. “No. So, the only explanation is that I’m crazy.”

Star looked at her dumbfounded. “Lois, who lied to you?”

“Clark,” Lois answered, opening the door.

Star didn’t expect that reply. “About what?”

“Everything!” Lois announced and left.

***

Chapter Nineteen

Lois couldn’t believe it. She had been so sure that Clark was real and that her dreams had been repressed memories, but with this new insight, she couldn’t see how he could be. She might as well accept the truth. She had irrefutable proof that she was insane, bonkers, nutso, crazy…

You’re not crazy, Lois, Clark said in that supportive tone of his. She could also hear the hesitancy in his voice. He was readying himself for her fury.

“I’m not crazy, Clark?” she scoffed out loud. “Hello? Not only am I hearing your voice, I’m responding to you.”

Arguing is more like it, he mumbled.

“Right, and I’m perfectly sane,” Lois replied with skepticism. She shoved open the front door of her building.

Lois, I understand that you’re angry with me. Why don’t you go back to your apartment where we can discuss this…

“Angry?! Angry? Why would I be angry with you, Clark?” she snapped, stomping down her front stoop to the sidewalk. She turned and started marching towards the Daily Planet. “You’re just a figment of my imagination, remember? How could I be mad at my own imagination?”

Because I didn’t tell you that I’m Superman.

Lois stopped and threw her hands up into the air. “There you are, Clark, with another one of your strange leaps of logic. How could you be Superman? That’s ridiculous. Superman is a fantasy character my mind created to let me… this me…” She patted her chest. “ – know the truth about Lex. Superman can’t be killed. One of my favorite aspects about his character is that he’s invulnerable. You, on the other hand, are dead. Ergo, you cannot be Superman. End of discussion.”

Kryptonite…

“Don’t even get started on that green rock mumbo-jumbo, Clark. Please!” Lois interrupted, adjusting her briefcase strap and continuing down the sidewalk. “Either you’re a dead superhero who lied to me, just like all the other men in my life, or I’m crazy. Which is it?”

You’re not crazy, Lois…

“Ah, so you’re admitting that you lied to me? That all this time, you’ve been speaking with me, whispering how much you loved me, everything you said was peppered with lies? Is that what you’re saying, Clark?”

Why don’t you go back to your apartment where we can discuss this without you yelling like an insane person on the street, Lois? Clark suggested.

Lois threw her hands into the air again and continued marching down the street. “Well, Clark, if the shoe fits…”

Lo-is, Clark groaned as he began to plead, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’m Superman.

“You hear that world?” she called out to her residential street. “Clark Kent is Superman!”

Lois!

“What? You think anyone around here cares? Clark Kent is Superman! Clark Kent is Superman!” she shouted and then harrumphed. “Nobody, but me, knows who Superman is, Clark, and why’s that? Oh, yeah, Superman has chosen me – out of all the people in the world –to stalk in the afterlife. Right, and you don’t think I’m nuts. Ha!”

I thought I had ended up in hell, watching the woman that I love live her life without me, not need me, and survive just fine without me.

“You call that surviving?” Lois grumbled.

When you first heard me, I couldn’t believe it. I knew if anyone could figure out a way to rescue me from this fate, it would be you. Yet, there you were once again in love with the Suit and not the man, another fantasy. I needed you to trust me, believe in Clark. He paused as Lois got to the corner.

“Because it’s soooo much easier to believe in a man communicating with me from beyond than in a superhero?” she retorted.

If I had told you that Superman wasn’t a figment of your imagination, but that he was once a real, living, breathing man, because I’m him, would you have ever listened to me? Would you have believed in the real me… Clark – me? His voice seemed to catch in his throat. Would you have gone to Smallville to meet my parents, to figure out how I died, so we can save me from this fate? Or would you be off somewhere denying that I exist and making out with Scardino, while I suffered in agony in the back reaches of your mind?

“How many times do I have to tell you? I dumped Dan because of Dan, not because I fell head over heels in love with you,” Lois lied to both Clark and herself. “Well, there, see. Believing a ghost loves you is the first sign of dementia. The second, I’m betting, is when you find out he’s also a superhero.”

I knew I should have kept quiet. If hearing my voice makes you feel crazy, then I did this to you. Go on, Lois, live your life. I won’t bother you anymore, and you can be sane again.

“No!” Lois hollered, freezing her steps as his words froze her heart. He wouldn’t dare, not after he promised he wouldn’t leave her again. She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to chase the anger from her voice as she pleaded with the voice in her head, “I’d rather be crazy with you than sane without you, Clark.” Dammit, he made her admit she was in love with a figment of her imagination.

Clark sighed. You’re not crazy, Lois.

Jimmy’s Mustang convertible pulled up to the curb next to Lois. “There you are!”

“What are you doing here, Olsen?” Lois growled by way of a greeting. Her little buddy really knew how to make an entrance.

“Detective Wolfe – and by extension Perry – was worried when you didn’t show up this morning for your debriefing at MPD HQ,” Jimmy explained. “I figured you left your car at the Lexor last night and might need a lift.”

Lois stopped and stared at him, her mind completely blank. It wasn’t like her to forget a meeting. It wasn’t like her to not check in with Perry. She couldn’t even remember if she had driven to the Lexor the night before or not.

You did, Clark softly reminded her.

~Oh, yeah.~ She nodded. “Thanks, Clark.”

“Ah… Lois? Are you feeling all right?” Jimmy asked, leaning over to unlock the passenger door. “Hop in.”

She looked at Jimmy and then at the closed passenger side door with a shake of her head. “No wonder I fell for you, Clark,” she mumbled, opening the car door and dropping in to the seat. “The men from Metropolis…”

“What?” Jimmy griped, having caught her expression. “What did I do now?”

“Would it have killed you to open the door?” Lois said, snapping her seat belt. She could hear Clark chuckling at the back of her head.

“You’re kiddin’ me, right? Mad Dog wants me to get out of the car, walk over to the other side, and open the car door for her?” Jimmy laughed. “You feeling all right there, Lane?”

Lois ran her tongue over her teeth and crossed her arms. “You know, Jimmy, you really know how to impress the ladies with that attitude.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jimmy glanced over his shoulder and pulled out into the traffic. “Look, Lois, I can tell you’re in one of your foul moods this morning, and before you decide to rip out my spleen with your fingernails, let me inform you that I got a three-Elvis reprimand last night after that little hissy-fit you threw at Perry. I’m your partner, not your keeper. Okay?”

She shrugged her response.

You should really try to be nicer to Jimmy, Lois, with everything he does for you and all, Clark suggested.

“Oh, shut up!” she groused, pressing her hands to her forehead.

Jimmy stopped at a red light and turned to face her. “You know, I don’t need this. I’m a darn good photographer and a half-way decent reporter on my own. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, can it, Jimmy. I wasn’t yelling at you,” Lois informed him, continuing to rub her temples.

“Then who in the hell were you yelling at?” he demanded.

“Clark.”

“Clark?” Jimmy sputtered. “Clark? As in CK from another time Clark? Lois, CK isn’t here.” For good measure, he glanced into the backseat to make sure.

“Yes, Jimmy, he is,” she whispered, looking down at her hands.

Jimmy pulled the car over to the side of the street and turned to face her. “Lois, there’s nobody here but us.”

Lois glanced up at him. “Clark is always with me.”

Are you sure you want to do this, honey? I can’t see this ending well.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Clark talks to me.”

“In your dreams?” Jimmy clarified.

“No… well, yes, but not only in my dreams.” Lois pressed her lips together nervously and chanced a glimpse at him.

“So, you hear his voice?” Jimmy asked, his own voice cracking. “He talks to you?”

She nodded.

“And what does he say exactly?” her partner inquired slowly.

“Lots of things. Mostly commentary, but usually he tells me how much he loves me and reassures me that I’m sane.” She rolled her eyes at that diagnosis. “When he’s not warning me to stay out of trouble, that is,” she said, smiling weakly. Jimmy would know what that was like.

“So, either he’s insane or he doesn’t know you at all?” Jimmy scoffed. “Or both.”

Lois nudged her friend with the back of her hand.

I know her too well.

“He says, ‘he knows me too well’,” she told Jimmy.

The young man gulped. “Did he just reply to what I just said?”

She nodded.

“How long have you been hearing Clark’s voice, Lois?” Jimmy asked tentatively.

“A couple of months, maybe longer. The first time…” She swallowed. The first time she could recall had been when Superman warned her about the bomb at the Wilder women’s trial. She raised her hand to her mouth. Superman. ~Oh, God! Clark, was that you who had warned me?~

Yes, Lois.

“The first time what?” Jimmy inquired, tilting his head to study her face.

Lois sighed, not wanting to admit the truth. Her tongue ran over her teeth and then she announced, “Clark noticed the smoke from the bomb at the Wilder trial, not me. He saved us, not me.”

“Well, better him than Scardino,” the photographer mocked.

My sentiments exactly.

“Clark,” Lois growled.

“What? What did he say?” Jimmy asked.

She waved the comment out of the air. “He doesn’t like Dan.”

“You do realize this whole conversation is totally insane, right?” Jimmy told her.

“Yep,” she agreed, watching Jimmy closely.

You’re not crazy, Lois. Stop saying that or someone will believe you.

Jimmy pointed at her. “Aren’t you the woman who tried to convince me last night that she wasn’t nuts?”

“Right again,” she replied.

Her friend stared at her trying to figure her out. “Did something happen, Lois?”

“I now agree with you,” Lois said.

“That in itself belongs on the wall of weird, but the bigger question is why?” He drew out this last word slowly.

“Clark revealed something about himself that couldn’t possibly, in the farthest reaches of the universe, be true, so…” Lois shrugged. “Ipso facto, I’m looney tunes.”

I’m not a figment of your imagination any more than you’re ‘looney tunes’.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lois, neither of us believes that you are truly ‘looney tunes’, least of all you.”

“I’m dreaming about a dazzling, flying superhero who is trying to romance me, which would be all and good if these dreams were truly fantasies, but a voice inside my head that only I – and possibly one psychic – can hear has convinced me that my dreams are real, repressed memories. If that isn’t crazy enough for you…” Lois gazed at him with a raised brow, daring him with her eyes to ask her to continue. She hadn’t even gotten to the traveling back in time with H.G. Wells bit or the part where CK was Superman.

I’m thinking we can skip sharing those facts, Lois, Clark suggested.

“Why, Clark? Why should I leave out the really juicy bits?” she argued.

Jimmy’s eyes went wide and he gulped. “Because I don’t really want to hear them.”

Lois waved his concerns away. “They’re not sexual, Jimmy. Come on, this is me we’re talking about.”

Clark made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat. I don’t know, Lois, I always thought you and sexy went hand-in-hand.

“Really, Clark? Flattery will not help your position here,” she responded with slightly flushed cheeks. This voice inside her heard sure was a lot more forward than that sweet, awkward farm boy from her dreams. “Anyway, the woman you fell in love with, the woman who I am in my dreams and who I am now, are two completely different people.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, a pout forming on her lips.

Lois, you’re the same woman, just your life experiences are slightly different. Take, for example, Lex Luthor’s death. In your experience, he died of a gunshot wound sustained during an ill-advised escape attempt while you were being held hostage at the Daily Planet by terrorists. The way I remember – and you will remember – the events are quite different.

She gulped as a warm bead of perspiration formed on her forehead. “Lex survived?” she gasped.

It’s amazing what a little heat vision can do to cauterize bullet wounds, Clark admitted modestly.

Lois felt like she was hyperventilating as the images from that night solidified into her mind. Only this time, Clark was there and, for some reason, that squirrelly kid who had stolen Superman’s globe. “Clark, are you telling me that… that… Superman saved Lex Luthor’s life?” she demanded incredulously. “That Lex didn’t die?”

With several short blasts of his horn, Jimmy maneuvered a u-turn from where they had been parked against the curb. “There’s no way I’m taking you to see Detective Wolfe,” he mumbled.

I’m never willing to let someone die, if there’s a way I can stop it, Lois.

“But… but, Clark, you do know who and what Lex was, don’t you?” she disagreed with his logic. “What he did?”

Trust me, Lois, I know full well of Lex Luthor’s misdeeds with the law and humanity, but Superman is not God. I don’t hold life and death judgments over the people of Earth.

“Clark,” Lois pleaded. “You can’t tell me that anyone would have known that you… or Superman could have saved him.”

You would have known, Lois. Maybe not then, but I still held hopes that your crush on Luthor would blow over, and you’d finally notice the man at the next desk, who absolutely adored you. Then someday, when you were ready and we trusted each other more, I would have told you about my abilities. At that time, you would have realized that I hadn’t saved Luthor when I could have, and I couldn’t let that failure stand between us.

“I would have forgiven you, Clark,” she whispered.

Gracious of you, Lois, but I wouldn’t have taken that chance… Clark sighed. And, well, truthfully I wouldn’t have forgiven me.

Lois looked out the window at that café she and Clark ate lunch at sometimes. It was just a couple blocks from the Daily Planet. Only she had never eaten there with him, because he didn’t exist. It was getting harder to argue to Clark, because she wanted to believe him… she wanted him to be real. But how could someone like Superman really have existed, been her best friend, and she never noticed? How could she ever call herself an investigative reporter again? How could she have failed him and let him die? Her shoulders slouched as her eyes squeezed shut, guilt filling her mouth with a bitter taste. “Jimmy, where are you going?”

“The office.”

“The Planet? Don’t I have to sign my statement for Detective Wolfe?” she said, pointing in the opposite direction to Wolfe’s precinct house.

“Lois, I can tell you’re going through something right now,” Jimmy replied with sympathy. “I don’t know if Sullivan pushed you over the edge last night, or if it’s a combo of stuff, but I know if we walk into MPD with you arguing with some guy that only you can see, you’ll never be able to be a serious reporter in this town again.”

Lois sighed and then explained, “I can’t see Clark. I can only hear him.”

I don’t think that is the issue here.

“I’m sure if we discuss this with Perry, he’d give you that extra week off you didn’t take from your vacation and…”

“Is that what this is really about? You trying to get your twenty bucks back from Perry?” she demanded.

Jimmy is being a good friend. Listen to him, Lois.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me, safe at home for a week, not angering some new psycho into trying to kill me, not sticking my nose into someone else’s business, me not doing my job…” she retorted.

“I’m worried about you, Lois,” Jimmy replied.

She patted his arm. “Me, too, kiddo.”

Clark groaned. For the ninety-fourth time, Lois: You. Are. Not. Crazy!

Lois leaned over to Jimmy and whispered, “Clark doesn’t think I’m crazy.”

“‘Catch Twenty-Two’…” her friend responded. “… like in that old war movie. You couldn’t be proven crazy unless you said you wanted to be sent back into battle, because who in their right mind would want that? If you didn’t want to go back into battle, you must be sane. Yet, if you wanted to be sent back into battle, who in the army would stop you?”

It was a book before it was a movie, Clark corrected. By Joseph Heller.

She raised a brow at her living, breathing partner. “So, does that automatically make me crazy when the voice inside my head tries to convince me I’m sane?”

Jimmy returned her expression and added a grin, but didn’t respond vocally, as he pulled his car into a parking spot down the block from the newspaper.

Terrific.

“I’m not really insane, you know,” Lois told him as she got out of the car. “I just feel crazy sometimes. I just learned that Clark’s been lying to me and, well, I didn’t take it well. Actually, I got steaming mad.”

“Right. Lying to you,” Jimmy replied with a total lack of conviction, before mumbling, “Smooth move, CK.”

Tell me about it.

Lois threw her hands up in the air. “You know, Clark, if you want to haunt Jimmy for a while, so you two can insult me in private, feel free to jump ship at any time.”

Jimmy shot her a perplexed look.

I’m sorry, Lois. This is very frustrating for me. As much as I love you, I miss hanging out with Jimmy, Jack, and Perry too. You know, going to baseball games, to action movies, and car shows, just being one of the guys.

She rolled her eyes.

“What?” Jimmy asked.

“He misses you,” she translated.

“Misses me?” her real-life partner said with gulp. “Clark knew me?”

She flipped up one of her hands. “You two were apparently the best of buds.”

“Really?” Jimmy sounded like he didn’t know what to do with that information. “He’s not actually going to haunt me, is he?” he asked, eyeing her warily as they went into the lobby of the Daily Planet.

“Of course not,” Lois scoffed. “If he could, he would have left me by now.”

Don’t say that, Lois. I love you so much , I once wished we could always be together, every moment of the day. Clark laughed quietly to himself. I guess I should be more careful what I wish for, huh?

~Ha ha,~ Lois replied to the voice in her head. “Anyway, I asked him once if he could contact H.G. Wells directly – you know, in the great beyond – and he told me I’m the only one with whom he could communicate.” Her brow furrowed. “Of course that was before he talked to Star.”

They stopped to wait for the elevator, and Jimmy grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Star, Lois? H.G. Wells – the author?”

Lois waved off those juicy tidbits. “Never mind. It’s not important.” She heard Clark breathe a sigh of relief.

“Right. What exactly did CK lie to you about?” he asked as they stepped into the elevator. It was late enough in the morning that they were alone.

Lois, it’s enough of a stretch to believe that you’ve been contacted directly by a ghost, add in Superman…

She looked down at her feet, not knowing what to believe. If she trusted the validity of Clark’s story and her repressed memories, she had to believe that Superman had been real too, that Clark was really and truly Superman.

“Well?” Jimmy inquired after another minute of silence.

“He lied to me about Superman,” she replied as Clark groaned.

Jimmy ran a shaking hand through his hair. “What about Superman, Lois?”

She glanced up at Jimmy and exhaled.

No, Lois, don’t…

“That before Clark was killed, Superman was real.”

***

“You want to run that past me again?” Perry asked as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed with one hand contemplatively sitting on his jaw.

Lois looked over at Jimmy, who shrugged his shoulders in his ‘you walked into this mess on your own free will’ manner, and then back at Perry. Thanks, partner. She went to open her mouth, but the Chief interrupted her, so she closed it again.

“You’re saying that your secret source for your Lex Luthor articles is a ghost?”

“I verified all the information,” Lois defended herself. “Double checked all the facts.”

“Uh-huh,” Perry said with a nod. “A ghost that only communicates with you?”

“And Star…”

Probably best not to mention the psychic, Lois, Clark suggested in his tone that, unlike Jimmy’s shrug, reminded her that, no matter what, he was her true partner.

“Star?” her boss echoed curiously.

Lois waved the name out of the conversation, deciding to take Clark’s advice this one time.

“Star is the psychic that moved into Lois’ building while she was away on vacation,” explained Jimmy.

She pinched her lips together and glared at the young man. Thanks. Thanks a lot, Jimbo.

“Uh-huh. So, what you’re saying is that none of this is real? Our lives are supposed to be completely different, better even, but because some man hitchhiked back in time from the future and killed your friend, currently a ghost, we now have a ‘death ray’ destroying cities?”

Lois smiled nervously, helplessly, as her sanity sounded even more in doubt than before Perry had called them into his office.

“And why is that exactly?” Perry inquired.

She looked at Jimmy, who held up his hands unwilling to contribute, and then returned her gaze to her boss. “Because Clark, Clark Kent is the man who was killed, if brought back to life will be able to contact a superhero who will fight for truth and justice.” She smiled in such a sheepish way, she wondered if Clark was controlling her lips.

“Superman,” Jimmy clarified.

“Uh-huh.” Perry shifted his position and leaned forward over his desk. “Lois, honey, if you want more vacation time, I have no problem giving it to you. You didn’t need to bring this pile of horse manure…”

“I know this all sounds implausible and crazy, Chief…” Lois stammered, bringing her briefcase into her lap. “It’s taken me months to believe it myself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ve got proof!” she said, pulling out the piece of notebook paper and setting it on Perry’s desk.

Her boss looked down at the plastic baggy containing the note H.G. Wells had written to her with her scrawl at the top. Jimmy leaned forward to get a glimpse of this proof himself. Perry lifted up the note and began to read: “‘Clark Kent is real. Research Tempus to rescue Clark from dying in the past. H. G. Wells will help you.’ Darlin’, this is in your handwriting,” he said, dropping the note back down on the desk.

“Well, yes…” she agreed. “But I wrote it when I was back in 1966. I didn’t remember doing so until Star unrepressed my repressed memories this morning.”

“Star? The psychic?” Perry gazed at her sadly. “Honey, let’s go on a wild adventure for a moment and just assume what you’re telling me is true – that time changed completely when your friend Clark was killed as a baby – if that were so, how were you able to go back and visit 1966 to write this note with H.G. Wells?”

Lois opened her mouth and then closed it again.

You’ve come this far, Lois, you might as well go all the way, Clark said supportively.

“Because even though Tempus changed the future, we didn’t erase ourselves from 1966 until we traveled forward in time and H.G. Wells dropped me back in 1995,” Lois explained.

“Uh-huh.” Perry studied Lois for a minute. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re not crazy because you’re hearing voices, but that you’re on the biggest story of your life?”

Lois sighed and a natural smile graced her lips. Yes! He believed her.

“And that’s why I shouldn’t put you on administrative leave and make you go through mandatory counseling sessions,” Perry continued. “— despite you hearing voices in your head and taking their advice?”

Or not.

“Just Clark’s voice,” she snapped, rising her feet. “And he doesn’t give me story leads, Chief. I got all those from my repressed memories, and I independently verified all the information. Clark hasn’t stopped me from being a good reporter; he’s made me a better one!” She grabbed up her notebook paper from Perry’s desk.

Thank you, honey, Clark said, his voice hoarse from her praise.

Hearing Clark reminded her what was at stake. She took a deep breath to calm down her rage. “But what if I’m right?” she asked Perry. “What if Clark is the key to bringing Superman to Earth? What if by saving Clark, we save all those colonists on the Prometheus? All those people in Pacifonesia? Stop Jimmy’s cousin Jimmy from being killed, Ralph from being murdered, and Johnny Taylor of the Metro Gang from dying? And those kids from the Beckworth School from being killed? And Secretary Wallace’s assassination? And President Garner’s kidnapping? And Lex Luthor from dying? And… and… and…” She snapped her fingers as she tried to think of all the people Superman could have helped since he arrived on the scene. There were so many. “All those little crimes that he stops every day. Think of how much better Metropolis would be with Superman here. Think of all the page one stories such a man would generate.”

Jimmy cleared his throat. “My cousin Jimmy doesn’t die?”

Lois shook her head. “Clark saves him.”

Her friend’s eyes open wider.

Perry raised an eyebrow. “Superman saved Ralph’s, Johnny Taylor’s, and Lex Luthor’s lives?” he asked skeptically. “I thought he was supposed to make the world a better place?”

I don’t judge…

“Every human life is sacred to Superman. It isn’t his job to decide who is worthy of living and dying. He’s not God,” Lois retorted.

I couldn’t have said it better myself, Clark replied. She could almost hear the smile on his lips.

“Uh-huh.” Perry was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed once more. “And what exactly in Elvis’s name happens if Lex Luthor survives?”

“Uh…” Lois didn’t know. She closed her eyes. What had happened after the hostage situation at the Daily Planet, after Clark had healed Lex? Her head began to swirl with images and information.

Lois sat on leather sofa in a private jet with Lex Luthor. They were heading to dinner in Italy and drinking champagne. Oooh, la, la. There was even a woman playing a violin in the seat across of them. Lex opened a ring box and held it out to her.

“Oh, my God!” Lois gasped. “Lex proposes.” She felt sick to her stomach. Oh, God. Oh, no! Anything but that.

“Lex Luthor wanted to marry you?” Jimmy stammered.

“Apparently.” She shook her head, hoping the information inside would change. Please, please, please, have her turn him down!

Jimmy and Jack pulled pink slips out of envelopes. They had been laid off. The paper was losing money, circulation was down, advertisers dropping the Daily Planet, something was really wrong. Then the elevator doors opened and out stepped Lex Luthor and a group of people. “Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Lex Luthor… I know your problems can be solved with strong leadership and fiscal responsibility. So, therefore, I’ve taken the one step necessary to guarantee the future of this great newspaper …”

Lois placed her hands to her head. “No! No! Clark, please tell me this isn’t so, this can’t true,” she pleaded.

I’m afraid it did happen, Lois. No matter what you see, what you remember, please know that I love you and that I always will love you. We will survive this; life does get better… eventually.

Her heart wrenched. It was going to get worse? How could it get worse?

“What in Sam Hill are you talking about Lois?” Perry demanded.

She swallowed and looked at her boss with wide eyes. “Lex buys the Daily Planet.”

***

“Trust me. Everything will be fine,” Lex whispered in her ear as he stood behind her in Perry’s office. He kissed the back of her head tenderly.

Of course it would be fine. It had to be fine. She wouldn’t be contemplating marriage to a man who would ruin the lives of all her friends and colleagues. It was just a mistake… a temporary glitch. Clark’s assumption that Lex was evil was just ridiculous. Ridiculous! Actually, she was going to go out and tell her partner that right now, remind Clark that it was better to have a job and that there would be a transition period with any new owner.

Lois rubbed her temples. These new memories were painful. Clark was right about that, but he had reassured her that life would get better. Maybe almost dying at the hands of terrorists changed Lex, she thought hopefully. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he had been before. She tossed up her hands at that preposterous theory. If she believed that, perhaps she was crazy.

She caught up with Clark at the break table where he was drinking his coffee. “It’s going to work out fine, Clark, just give it time. Lex will turn things around.”

Clark winced at her words. “Incredible,” he scoffed.

“What?”

He stood up to look her in the eye. “You! Prize winning investigative reporter,” he said as if those two things didn’t go together.

“Is there a point?” Lois asked as the hairs on the back of her neck started to bristle.

“How can you be so blind, Lois?” he asked with complete disbelief. “I mean, you look right at the guy, and you still haven’t a clue who he really is.”

“Who?”

“Luthor,” he spit out the name, pointing his spoon towards Perry’s office.

Lois rolled her eyes. Oh, great, this again. She had never seen Clark so adamant about anything before, not in the whole year that she had known him. She turned back to Clark and lowered her voice, not wanting everyone else to hear what she was going to say. “Look, Clark, I’m not naïve,” she said, sitting down across from him at the break table.

He sat down as well and leaned in to hear her.

“I know that Lex didn’t reach his station in life by being a nice guy, but look at all the good he’s done: Luthor Hospital, Luthor Home for Children, Luthor Foundation for the Arts, not to mention, employing hundreds of thousands of people in Metropolis,” Lois said, pointing at Clark to drive in her argument. “Most recently saving our jobs.”

“Cover. It’s all a cover,” he replied.

Oh, come on, Kent. Please. Nobody was that bad. “Why? If he’s such a rotten human being, why bother?”

“Because that’s what he enjoys most: getting away with it.”

She shook her head in disappointment. Really? This was the best that he had? Or should she say, the worst that he had on the man? Vague claims.

“I mean the man is more than just evil, Lois,” he continued. “He’s a monster.”

Lois stood up. “I’m… I’m not going to listen to this.” Clark’s irrational theories about Lex had to stop. If she was the only one who could put a stop to it, then so be it. Clark usually listened to her… okay, perhaps not, but he trusted her judgment. If she became engaged to Lex, Clark would come to realize that Lex wasn’t as bad as he thought. “Especially not now.”

“Wha…?” Clark sputtered. “You aren’t actually considering his proposal, are you?” He looked at her with a new incredulity as if he didn’t recognize her.

“I… I don’t know, Clark,” she said hesitantly. At first she wasn’t going to consider Lex’s proposal, but now, she wasn’t so sure. In light of Clark’s blatant distrust of the man, she felt like she needed to prove to her partner once more that she was right about Lex, and he was wrong. If Lex was as bad as Clark said, what did that say about her as an investigative reporter? She would be the laughing stock of Metropolis. No, she had to be right and Clark wrong. That was how it had always been. That was how it would always be. “I’m thinking about it, that’s all. I’m just thinking about it.” She walked off, unable to be around her partner any longer.

What was the matter with Clark anyway? Had he fallen off his rocker due to the upheaval at the Planet? She knew he didn’t deal well with change. That was made abundantly clear after he left Metropolis when Superman was practically drummed out of town.

She sighed. Superman. Now, there was a man worth risking everything for. Her smile fell off her face. Perhaps… No, she wouldn’t give Clark’s ideas credence by asking Superman his opinion. Anyway, hopefully Superman would give her a reason never to accept Lex’s offer.

A cold sweat beaded over Lois’ forehead, and she leaned over her knees, eager to stop the nausea that accompanied these new memories. Clark had warned her about Lex, and she hadn’t listened to him. She had been so hell-bent on proving to him that she was right. Her stomach lurched.

Perry opened the conference room door and peered over at her.

Lois glanced up at her boss and the room started to spin around him. These repressed memories flowed into her head so fast, she couldn’t see straight. Why? Oh, why had she asked for them to come back to her like a flood?

“Darlin’, you okay? You look sicker than a dog that’s taken a bite out of a Junebug,” Perry said, coming to her side.

“It’s just…” She tried to swallow the bile back down her throat. “Just these memories that Star let loose for me. They’re a little hard to take, especially all at once.”

“Better life, huh?” He chuckled a bit at her misery. “So, what’s your imagination saying that Lex is doing now?” he asked with a wry amount of humor.

She looked up at Perry, and the tears in her eyes made him blurry. “He’s hired a ‘Supervising Editor-in-Chief’ straight out of Harvard Business School to take some of the load off of you.”

Perry scowled. “Supervising? That bastard. Please tell me I didn’t I stand for it,” he pleaded.

Lois smiled weakly. “You grabbed your Elvis photo by the door and marched out, telling Lex exactly what he could do with that young whipper-snapper.”

Her boss laughed. “Glad to know I don’t lose my marbles in your alternate life for me.”

“Only Clark sees Lex for who he really is. Even I am blinded by the billionaire who ‘saved the Planet’.” She tried to roll her eyes at herself, but the action just made her dizzy. “Lex has demoted both Jack and Jimmy down to the printing plant,” she told him.

“Jimmy at the printing plant? Poor fellow. Who’s Jack?” Perry inquired, his brow furrowing.

“Oh… uh… A runaway that Clark rescued off of Metropolis’s mean streets and got a job here as gofer,” Lois explained. No Clark meant no theft of the globe and no rescuing of Jack and his brother. She flinched. She bet that they were still out there somewhere. She wondered how they were doing without Clark’s help.

I wouldn’t even know where to tell you to start looking. I doubt that they’re in the same place I found him eighteen months ago.

Perry smiled. “It sounds like you’ve found a keeper in that Clark fellow. I can see why you want so much to believe in him.”

Thanks, Chief.

The tears in Lois’ eyes overflowed. Perry didn’t accept Clark as true. He was someone in her ‘imagination’, someone she ‘wanted to believe in’. She took hold of her boss’ hand and squeezed it. “Everyone loves Clark.” She winced. That wasn’t true. Almost everyone. Lex claimed to like him, but he never did. He didn’t like that Lois trusted Clark so much and that Clark was important to her. She let go of Perry and raised her hand to her head. Her icy fingers felt good there.

“You lie back down there, Lois. I’ve got Jimmy making you some tea and I’ve called a doctor. She’ll be here soon.”

Lois nodded, resting her head on the arm of the sofa. “He’s real, you know, Perry. I’m not crazy.”

“Sure, honey. Whatever you say,” he reassured her with empty words she knew he did not mean.

She sat back up. “If I can prove to you that Clark Kent is real… if I can dig up a cold hard fact for you, will you believe me?” she said, looking up into his face. She couldn’t stand being a disappointment to this man to whom she had grown closer than her own father. She hated seeing that same look in his eyes that she had often seen in her father’s.

He grinned at her and then winked. “Of course, honey. Rest. Don’t you worry about that right now.” She then watched as the grin fell from his face, and he left the room.

Nope. He doesn’t believe she can do it. She picked up the plastic baggy with her note in it. She took the paper out and studied it again. There had to be some way to convince her boss that Clark was real… had been real.

She groaned. All the names on the paper that H.G. Wells had given her were a dead end. No wonder she hadn’t realized that the numbers were dates; they were all in the future, far in the future. How could she research the history of people who wouldn’t be born for almost seventy-five years? No wonder Wells thought her idea improbable. Tempus must have come from much further in the future than she had thought. Twenty-third century? Wasn’t that what he had told her?

Lois scoffed, wadding up the paper and throwing it in the nearest trashcan. It had been her lifeline, her proof that Clark was real, but other than that… useless. She sighed. There had to be another way, she could prove her sanity. Why had she let her anger get the best of her? Why had she told Jimmy and then Perry about Clark? She should have just kept all knowledge of Superman to herself. She buried her face in her hands. She had been so stupid.

There was loud BOOM, and the building of Daily Planet jolted and shook. She could hear explosion after explosion rock the building, her home and her world. Clark hollered for everyone to evacuate, and she ran to the stairs with the others. She lost sight of her partner in the hubbub. Down on the street, she saw Superman carrying an unconscious Jack to a stretcher. Jimmy walked up to her holding his arm. It seemed so surreal. Who would bomb the Daily Planet? Why?

When she opened her eyes, Lois found herself lying on the floor of the conference room. It felt like her world was turning upside-down. Her ears were still ringing, her eyes still stung, and she could still smell the smoke from her memory.

This wasn’t a dream.

This wasn’t her imagination.

She had been there.

She had experienced the event.

This was a memory.

If she had harbored any last doubts about her sanity, they were now gone. Clark was real and she needed to save him. She crawled across the floor and found a trash can and threw up. Luckily, she hadn’t had the time or desire to eat much that morning.

Jimmy rushed into the room, carrying her grey mug full of tea. “Lois! I heard you scream. Is everything all right?”

She had screamed? Lois had no recollection of it. She stared at Jimmy, and after he had helped her to her feet, she wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“Lois?” he whispered. She could hear the uncertainty in his voice. She knew she wasn’t a big hugger, but after this newest memory, she was relieved that this Jimmy was alive, even if his cousin, the first Jimmy Olsen she had met and known, no longer was.

“Sorry, Jimmy. Someone bombed the Planet… the Daily Planet, and your cousin was hurt. His arm,” she stammered, letting her hand coast down his left arm, his perfectly healthy left arm.

“I’m fine, Lois. Sit down. Nobody’s bombed the Planet,” he said, leading her back to the couch and then retrieving her tea. “Here. Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

Lois smiled at him. “You know, you remind me a bit of Clark. He’s always saying that tea will make me feel better too.”

Jimmy gazed at her sadly, and then nodded. “It does.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. The hot liquid did make her feel better. She nodded at Jimmy and he patted her on the arm and left. Being around her was making people uncomfortable. She could understand that. Being her was making her uncomfortable too.

Does that mean I’m right? About the tea, I mean.

She smiled. “Maybe just this one time.” Twice, if she included Lex. “Oh, Clark, what did we do while waiting for Lex to rebuild the Daily Planet?” Lois groaned, unable to picture herself without a story.

Uh… Lois…

She took a deep breath and exhaled, somehow knowing what he didn’t want to say. “He didn’t rebuild it, did he?” She slowly raised her mug to her lips.

No. He told you that it was underinsured, and it would cost too much to rebuild.

“And I believed him,” Lois scoffed at herself with a shake of her head. Clark had been right. Some investigative reporter she was! “Why do you still love me, Clark?”

You play a mean game of Trivial Pursuit.

She laughed.

You’re intelligent and beautiful. You give everything you have and are to your stories and then some. You want the world to be a better place and you’ll fight anyone and everyone to make it so. I love your smile. I love how you growl in the morning before you get your first cup of coffee. I love how you feel every emotion, not just with your face, but with every cell of your body. When you’re happy, you glow. When you’re sad, it’s painful for others to witness. When you’re angry…

“Watch out world?”

Precisely.

Lois took another sip of tea. “I’m sorry, Clark, for not listening to you about Lex.”

Me, too.

“Thanks,” she retorted, heavy with sarcasm.

No, I mean I’m sorry I didn’t explain better how I knew Luthor was evil. If I had told you the truth about me and how and what I knew about him, maybe I could have… Clark sighed and she could hear the anguish he was trying to hide from her.

Chapter Twenty

Lois swallowed another gulp of tea, burning her throat slightly, and stood up. She was tired of thinking about Lex. She was ready to get him out of her life for good. The only way she knew how to do that was proving her sanity to Perry, saving her job and herself. She needed to hold out that much longer until H.G. Wells showed up to take her back into the past to rescue Clark. If she lost this job due to mental instability, the only one she could get would be alongside Leo Nunk at the National Whisper… if she was lucky. If she lost this job, how would Wells find her?

Hopefully, Wells had already figured out how to save Tempus from extinction, so time would no longer be shattered, so that they could go back far enough and make sure her friend had a chance to live. Maybe now that her memories had returned and she had let others know about Superman and Clark, Wells would discover it was safe to come for her. She didn’t know how Wells would find out, but since he had a time machine, hopefully the wait wouldn’t be too long.

In the meantime, she needed to do something to prove her sanity. Since the only people who knew for a fact that Clark existed, besides herself, were his parents, she needed to get them to acknowledge that fact. Picking up her briefcase, she dug around inside of it until she found the napkin on which Maisie had written the directions to The Farm. She sighed. No phone number. Damn. She went to the phone and dialed information.

“I need a phone number for the Kent Farm or The Farm or Martha and Jonathan Kent in Smallville, Kansas,” she told the operator. A few minutes later, she not only had a phone number, but a fax number as well. She dialed the number and hoped someone would answer.

“Hello, The Farm. Jonathan speaking,” Clark’s father said into the phone.

Lois wasn’t sure what to say. “Mr. Kent… Jonathan, it’s Lois… Lois Lane. Clark and I need your help. Please, don’t hang up… Damn!” Well, that obviously wasn’t it. She replaced the receiver.

Okay, clearly the Kents weren’t ready to talk to her yet. She glanced down at the notepad on which she had written their number, and a determined expression crossed her face. Sitting down at the conference room table, Lois picked up a yellow, legal pad someone had left there and started drafting a letter. A few minutes later, she held it up and nodded. It looked good. It wasn’t the best letter she had ever written, but it would get Martha and Jonathan thinking.

Honesty is always the best policy with my folks. They might not want to talk to you, but they’ll read what you have to say.

Lois went to the conference room door and looked out into the bullpen. She doubted either Perry or Jimmy said anything to anyone else about her hearing Clark’s voice; maybe about her not feeling well, but not about her sanity or lack thereof. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her or the conference room, so she opened the door and casually walked across the room to the fax machine. She wrote up a quick fax cover sheet, dialed the number from her notepad, and added her pages to the machine. Her fax seemed to crawl through the machine slower than a snail. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited.

Finally, the last page went through. Lois confirmed transmission, grabbed her letter, and went straight to the shredder. There were still a few details of Clark’s story she hadn’t shared with her partner or boss, and she planned on keeping it that way. Clark’s secret was one she hadn’t kept this morning, and she didn’t plan on making another such mistake again.

After the pages had been shredded, she glanced down and saw how blatant the yellow paper contrasted with the normal white computer paper. It would be too easy for someone to piece back together, if they wanted. She grabbed a fistful of yellow strips and went around the newsroom, tearing them into smaller pieces and dropping a few in every trashcan she passed.

Lois glanced at Jimmy, but he was busy on the telephone. She looked over her shoulder towards Perry’s office; he was gazing into newsroom, but she couldn’t tell if he had been watching her. He lowered his eyes back to the papers on his desk and she rushed back to the conference room. No point in adding paranoia to her list of symptoms.

Her heart was racing as she shut the conference room door behind her, leaning up against it. The room began to swim again. No. No. No! Not again. She made it back over to the sofa, before the memory hit her.

Lois was giddy with excitement. Lex had offered her a job at LNN: Luthor News Network. At first she was blasé. It wasn’t the Daily Planet. Nothing could replace the newsroom in her heart. Then she had toured the LNN offices. They were modern, fast-paced, and efficient, and she couldn’t wait to share them with Clark. Without her partner, this place would seem sterile, soulless, and superficial. She needed her partner to join her, for his sake, not hers.

Without her working with him, Clark would feel lost in Metropolis. Without Lois, Clark wouldn’t be able to go on. Lois knew that if Clark couldn’t handle the transition of Lex taking over the Daily Planet, how was he going to come to terms with the fact that their beloved newspaper was no more? She knew that without her Clark wouldn’t be able to stay afloat. He needed her. Clark was her partner, now and forever more. Lois refused to work with anyone else. Not to mention, nor would she to another living soul, Clark knew how to contact Superman better than she did. That was one source she could never give up.

But when Lois showed Clark around LNN, he wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to work in television. He flat out refused to work for Lex Luthor. He wanted to still save the Daily Planet, even though Lex had told her there was no way to do so. She had moved on, so should Clark.

Okay, true, it had only been a day or two since the Daily Planet had been bombed, but life and news went on. They had to land on their feet and recover quickly in this business. One was only as good as one’s next story. If she stood around and thought about what had happened to the Daily Planet, she would lose it, and she refused to break down and cry. She refused to let the bomber win!

Clark continued to groan about Luthor. What she needed was a good two-by-four to hit some sense into her partner. When she reminded him of their partnership, he asked to talk to her in private. She agreed, but she knew what he was going to say; he had said it all before. Lex was the devil incarnate, blah, blah, blah. Sure, Clark. Where were his cold hard facts? Did he expect her to believe him without any of those? Hello, reporter here!

But that wasn’t what Clark told her. Instead, he sat her down on a bench in Centennial Park, and told her that he was in love with her and had been for a very long time.

Lois couldn’t believe it. Did he really expect her to believe him? It felt like just yesterday that she had poured out her heart to him, telling him that she loved him, and he had stood there like a bump on a log – his mouth hanging open, catching flies. Now, suddenly, he was in love with her? And had been ‘for a long time’? Right. Whatever you say, Clark.

Had Clark given up spouting the evils of Lex in exchange for professing his love instead? Was Clark now using her obvious attraction for him to try to dissuade her from accepting Lex’s offer? Did he really hate Lex that much to use her in this manner? That just hurt. She couldn’t believe Clark, of all people, would stoop so low. That just didn’t seem like the honest, genuine guy she knew. No, she must be wrong. Could he really be in love with her?

Lois thought about what he had said again.

“When I thought about losing my job at the Daily Planet, saying goodbye to Perry and Jimmy and everyone, I realized something. I realized that I could lose all that but still go on. I realized that there was really only one thing I didn’t want to live without and that was you. Seeing you every day, working with you, just being with you.”

She had misunderstood at first, and replied, “See, that’s why you should come and be my partner…”

“No, Lois, I’m not talking about partnerships,” he interrupted. “I’m talking about us. I have been in love with you for a long time. You’ve had to have known.”

Suddenly, she realized what had happened. Clark wasn’t in love with her, not like she was in love with him. They had already discussed that back during Nightfall, and she had accepted that fact and moved past it. Book closed.

No, Clark must be confusing their friendship, their partnership for love. When the Daily Planet had exploded… maybe even before, when the layoffs had started… Clark had moved his attachment disorder from the paper to her. He was under some misguided notion that he could lose Jimmy, Perry, and the Daily Planet, but still be okay as long as he had her.

It was the same thing that had happened during the heat wave, the same thing as when the layoffs had happened, and when Lex had bought the paper. It was too much change all at once for the poor little farm boy. So, Clark had convinced himself that as long as he was with her, he would be okay, he would survive.

No, as much as she wanted it to be true, Clark wasn’t in love with her. He was anchoring himself to her, hoping that she would keep him afloat. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t let him attach himself to her in that way, not if he truly didn’t love her. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t do that to herself. She sighed and tried to think of a way to let him down gently.

“I knew… I mean, I guess I knew that you liked me…” Lois said, hating every word, every lie coming out of her mouth. “… that you were attracted to me…” She stared into his deep soulful eyes. How she wished he liked her. How she wished he was really attracted to her. She looked away. If she continued to talk about this with him, her already fragile heart would shatter again. “Clark, I’m sorry… I just don’t feel that way about you…Romantically…”

It broke her heart to lie to Clark like this, but it was for his own good. She had been his lifeline for too long. He needed to stand on his own two feet. She couldn’t have him clinging to her when she knew, deep in her heart, that he didn’t truly love her. He just didn’t want to be alone. What was she thinking? Of course, he wasn’t going to be alone. She would still be there for him.

“You’re my best friend and the only partner I could ever stand to work with,” Lois continued with a self-mocking smile. “I admire you, and I respect you and I do love you.” There she said it again. Why was she tormenting herself in this way? “As a friend.”

Why? Why, did she always have to include that stupid disclaimer? She loved him… as a man. Why did she always have to be the strong one in their relationship? Why couldn’t she just accept Clark’s offer for love for what it was and kiss him and walk into the sunset? Oh, no, she had to be the realist. Clark had already unintentionally broken her heart once. She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to do so again. She knew she couldn’t survive it a second time.

Clark stood up and walked a few feet away.

Lois knew that she had hurt him; she could see it in his eyes.

“What about Luthor?” he asked. “Do you love him?”

Love? Lex? No, she didn’t think so. “I don’t know. I mean I have feelings for him.” Not like she had feelings for Clark, no, but that was a good thing. If she loved Lex like she had allowed herself to love Clark, then that would open her heart to break again. No, she would never love Lex that way. “I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet, and I won’t until I talk it over with someone else.” Out of the two men left with whom she would be willing to spend her life – who couldn’t hurt her like Clark had – she preferred Superman, a hundred to one. Him, she could love.

“Who?” Clark asked.

“I think you know who,” she said almost shyly, and watched as Clark glanced to the sky before dropping his gaze. Yeah, he knew who she was talking about. “If you see him will you tell him I’m looking for him?”

Clark sucked his lips inside his mouth and murmured, “Yeah.”

Lois gasped. Oh, God! What had she done? She had dismissed Clark’s feelings, his pronouncement of love, as some school boy crush? She buried her face into her hands and began to sob. How could she have been so cruel? She had loved him, yet she had rejected Clark because she didn’t think he loved her as much as she loved him. What a fool she was!

“Oh, Clark! Clark, I’m so sorry,” she cried. “You deserve someone better than me.”

The door of the conference room opened and Perry walked in.

Lois looked up at him through her tears. What now? “I can’t take anything else right now, Perry. Please, just leave me alone.”

Perry knelt down in front of her. “Are you all right, darlin’?”

“Peachy,” she grouched. “I just rejected Clark and broke his heart for no good reason, no good reason at all. I’m a bitch with a capital ‘B’.”

He raised a brow. “Lois, are you saying that you sent that voice inside your head away?” her boss asked softly. She could hear the hopeful tone ringing in his voice.

“No! Back… back in our other life. I loved him, but told him I didn’t, because I thought he didn’t really love me or that he was just trying to get me to refuse Lex’s offer… or something…” she tried to explain. It was hard to see him through her tears and hair. “I don’t know.”

“And what offer would that be?” a female, crisp British accent said from behind Perry.

Lois pushed back her hair and looked at the petite brown-haired woman standing there. She hadn’t realized that Perry had brought anyone into the room with him. “None of your damn business.”

“Uh… Lois?” Perry cleared his throat. “This is the doctor I told you about. Lois Lane, Dr. Arianna Carlin.”

Lois pointed at the woman. “I know you, don’t I?”

Dr. Carlin raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“You seem familiar.”

“Dr. Carlin was the doctor I told everyone to talk to after the hostage thing a year ago,” Perry explained.

Lois focused on the woman. “Yeah, I remember you now.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Lane. I’ve heard such nice things about you,” Dr. Carlin replied in an overly sweet tone.

“No, you haven’t. People don’t say ‘nice things’ about me,” Lois retorted before turning to Perry and hissing, “I’m not talking to her. I don’t need a shrink. I’m fine.”

“Ms. Lane, in my experience it’s the people who say that they’re ‘fine’ that need help the most,” interjected Dr. Carlin.

Lois looked the woman up-and-down and returned her gaze to Perry. “I have better things to do with my time.”

“Lois, darlin’, I think the world of you, honey, but it isn’t normal to hear voices that no one else can hear,” her boss said with a pat on her shoulder. “Or to think that the world would be completely different if your boyfriend hadn’t died or to have flashbacks to this other life that make you scream out in terror and collapse on the ground.”

“I’m sane,” Lois growled. “And they aren’t ‘flashbacks’, they’re memories, and I can’t believe you told her about that!” She was pointing at the good doctor again.

“Your boyfriend died?” Dr. Carlin asked, her voice sounding hollow.

“Yeah, a long time ago.”

Dr. Carlin swallowed. “Would you like to talk to me about him?”

“Not particularly,” Lois responded in disbelief. Did people pay for this crap?

“Lois, you’re going to talk to Dr. Carlin,” Perry said in his ‘I’m the boss’ voice. “You know I’m not one normally to meddle in the lives of my reporters, but I’m doing more than strongly suggesting that you take her up on her offer this time. You didn’t listen last time, and I didn’t push you, and look where you ended up. I’m putting my foot down. Three sessions and we’ll go from there.”

“Three?! Per-ry, I’m not crazy. I don’t need a head…” Lois said, but mostly to Perry’s departing backside. “And what’s this about never meddling in your reporter’s lives? You’re always meddling! Who told Dan he should take me to bed?”

After the Chief had shut the door with a wave, Dr. Carlin pulled up a chair and sat opposite Lois. “I hear you’ve had a rough day.”

Don’t talk to her, Lois. She isn’t who she says she is.

~I wasn’t planning on it, Clark,~ Lois snapped, and then sighed, burying her face in her hands. ~I’m sorry. You’ve got to know, I didn’t know you were serious. I mean, not really. I thought you were trying to stop me from marrying Lex. I thought you were…~

We’ll talk about that later, after she’s gone. Don’t tell her anything about me. Anything. Don’t trust her.

Lois studied Dr. Carlin, leaning back against the seat cushions.

“Perry tells me that you’ve had a rough couple of months. Why don’t you tell me about it?” Dr. Carlin suggested.

“How about I don’t?” Lois crossed her arms. “I don’t trust you.”

“Perry trusts me,” Dr. Carlin replied, leaning forward. “He trusts me enough to ask me to come down here to talk to you. You trust Perry, and you trust Perry’s judgment, don’t you? Why don’t you trust me, Ms. Lane? Is some voice inside your head telling you I’m not trustworthy?”

Lois gulped, and her eyes widened.

Don’t answer that. It’s a trick question. She’s trying to get you to admit that you’re hearing voices.

At Lois’ silence, Dr. Carlin sat back upright. “Okay, let’s talk about what happened a year ago, since we never got around to talking about it back then. Why don’t you tell me about Lex?”

Lois’ sour stomach made a lurch and she pulled her knees and feet onto the couch.

Ask her how she’s on a first name basis with Lex Luthor?

“Did you know Lex?” Lois asked innocently.

Dr. Carlin smiled. “Yes, we’ve met.”

Ask her, ‘how?’ Clark suggested at the same time Lois asked, “How?”

“Socially. I know people on the board at Luthor Hospital,” Dr. Carlin explained.

She’s lying.

~Why would she do that?~

Trust me; she’s lying.

“I understand you and Lex were seeing each other, and that night the terrorists took over the Daily Planet, he was here because of you,” said Dr. Carlin, clearly leading Lois in a certain direction.

“Yes, he was here because of me, and no, he wasn’t killed because of me. He was killed because of his own arrogance. He was shot trying to escape while I was visiting the ladies’ room,” Lois informed her. “When I returned, we were handcuffed, back to back. He bled to death, leaning against me.” She pressed her lips together with a slight shake of her head.

Tell her what he told you before he died.

“His last words were that he loved me.” She had been thinking for months, since her meeting with Toni, that Lex had lied to her. Now, considering how Lex had proposed to her in her life with Clark, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe Lex really had loved her.

Come on, Lois. Whatever Lex thought love was, and what love really is, are two different things entirely.

Dr. Carlin blinked. “Lex told you he loved you?” she repeated with skepticism.

Lois raised a brow. “Does that shock you? That someone could love me? I’ll have you know, men fall in love with me all the time.”

One man; two, if you count Scardino. The rest are psychopaths and megalomaniacs, Lois.

~Yeah, well… shouldn’t that be: one man and one superhero?~ she retorted.

We’re one and same, Lois, Clark said. She could just picture him pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.

~Oh? You and Scardino are one and the same? Maybe I shouldn’t have broken up with him after all.~

Very funny.

~I thought so.~

“Is something funny?” Dr. Carlin asked her, watching her.

“No,” Lois replied simply, a smile still brushing her lips.

“I didn’t realize that you and Lex had been dating all that long,” Dr. Carlin said, returning to their earlier topic.

She seems overly interested in Lex’s dating habits, don’t you think?

~I was thinking the same thing, but then again psychiatrists are notoriously nosy. Still…~ Lois pressed her lips together. ~I wonder what she’d think about Lex’s proposal?~

That’s none of her business, Lois. Let’s keep your relationship with your ex-fiancé out of this.

~Fiancé? What do you mean fiancé, Clark? Ex or otherwise.~ Lois stood up and started to pace. ~Last I remembered, you were going to send Superman to visit me. I planned on telling Superman that I loved him and since you’re Superman… Why would I have accepted Lex’s proposal, Clark? I didn’t love Lex. I loved you. Hell, all of you, since I believed I was in love with both halves of you. What happened when I confessed my feelings to Superman?~

Lois, this isn’t a good time to be thinking about that, Clark reminded her. His voice was calm, but she could hear a rough edge to it.

~A good time? A good time? You just told me that you – Superman, you – lied to me when I told you I loved you.~

That isn’t exactly what happened, Lois, and Superman doesn’t lie. Anyway, didn’t you lie to me when you told me – Clark, me – that you didn’t love me for more than a friend?

Lois waved the issue out of the air. ~Yes, but I lie all the time and… and I didn’t think you really loved me. Anyway, I’m no truth-toting superhero.~

Yeah, well, it still hurt.

She winced and her shoulders fell. “I know, I know…”

“What do you know, Ms. Lane?” Dr. Carlin asked.

Lois had forgotten that she was there. “That it seemed like Lex and I hardly knew each other,” she answered, pressing her eyes shut as the images, the memories once more rushed into her head.

Lois walked around in her living room, casually. Although, how could one really be ‘casual’ in one’s own living room, wearing a hand-picked, floor-length, silk nightgown, while waiting for Superman?

No more t-shirts and old boxers for her. She learned her lesson back when Mr. Make-Up had come after her; it had been bad enough that Clark had seen her wearing those old duds. The weekend after Mr. Make-Up was arrested, Lois had rushed out and bought a whole slew of sexy nightgowns to wear should Superman ever need to rescue her late at night.

She picked up an old edition she had found of ‘Pride and Prejudice’, one of her favorite novels. She started flipping through it, thinking about her conversation with Clark on the bench that afternoon and how it almost reminded her of Mr. Darcy’s first proposal to Elizabeth, except she didn’t hate Clark, like Lizzie despised Mr. Darcy at that point in the story. Lois had felt sorry for Clark, being so scared of being adrift in Metropolis that the poor man actually thought himself in love with her. She sighed as she felt a breeze blow through her apartment.

Lois looked over her shoulder and saw Superman standing just inside her window, his arms crossed and his face firm with intensity. “Superman,” she whispered in way of a greeting. He always made her breathless. She stood up and approached him, a blushing smile coming to her lips.

“I heard you wanted to see me,” he said, not moving away from the window.

“Yes, come in. I’ll just put on a robe,” she stammered, suddenly self-conscious of this sheer-feeling nightgown she had chosen. She turned to head towards her bedroom.

Superman stepped closer to her. “Unless it’s lined with lead, Lois, it’s a waste of time.”

His words froze her, and she turned to look at him. She expected such a line from his uncouth clone, but the real Superman was usually much more of a gentleman than to remind her that he could look through her clothing at any time. She looked down at her nightgown and felt naked standing in front of her hero, which would make her confession all the more difficult. “I guess so.”

Superman didn’t say anything as he gazed at her, his arms still crossed.

“Well, I’m just trying to figure out… I have a lot of changes going on in my life,” she said, moving closer to him and keeping her eyes focused on his. He seemed much more human, less intimidating, when she didn’t look at his Suit. “I just want to make the right decision, and I can’t do that until I know how you feel.”

He glanced down a brief moment and appeared unsettled by her gaze.

“Superman,” she whispered, setting her hands on his crossed arms. “Is there any hope for us? You and me?” Staring into his eyes, she felt a wave of emotion, stronger than she had for any man, save Clark. It was like that first adrenaline rush she had felt for the hero upon meeting him, when she had known in an instant that she and Superman had a connection, a unbreakable bond that would tie them together forever. “I’m so completely in love with you. I can’t do anything else without knowing.”

Superman exhaled and looked down and away. When he raised his head again, he did so with a slight shake, and she knew what his answer was going to be. “Lois, I do care for you, but there are things about me that you don’t know, that you may never know.”

No. No. No. Her heart pounded. She couldn’t lose both her partner and Superman in one day. “That doesn’t matter; I know you. I don’t mean ‘you’ the celebrity or ‘you’ the superhero. If you had no powers at all, if you were just an ordinary man, leading an ordinary life, I would love you just the same. Can’t you believe that?” As she spoke the words, she knew she meant them.

His eyes gazed at her sadly. “I wish I could, Lois, but under the circumstances, I don’t see how I can.”

Lois turned away. His rejection of her words, of her trust in him, of her in general stabbed so sharp that she needed a moment to find the strength to convince him that she did love him enough. But in that moment, she felt the breeze of his departure. She turned back to her window, and he was gone.

How had Superman known that she didn’t love him with all of her heart, like she had told him that she did? Could his x-ray vision see directly into her heart and see Clark’s heart there? Was that how he knew that she didn’t love him more than an ordinary guy, in an ordinary suit, leading an ordinary life? Was her love for Clark the ‘circumstance’ to which he referred?

“Superman,” Lois murmured as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“Lois?” Dr. Carlin interrupted her thoughts.

She was already annoyed by the constant interruption by the woman. “What?!”

“Why don’t you sit down and tell me what just happened?” suggested the doctor, holding out her hand to Lois.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lois sputtered, her feet frozen to the floor. Had something happened when she had her memory flashback? She wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“You disappeared on me for a moment there,” explained Dr. Carlin.

Lois’ eyes bugged. “I dis… disappeared?”

She doesn’t mean literally, Lois, Clark reassured her.

“Do you think you can actually disappear, Lois?” the psychiatrist asked her.

“Of course not,” Lois said with a gulp. Sure, she had witnessed Clark fading away when baby Clark was exposed to the Kryptonite and Tempus disintegrating into nothing when he erased himself from time, but why would that mean she believed it was possible for it to happen to her too? Especially whenever she fell into one of her memories of her other life?

“What you’re demonstrating are signs of post-traumatic stress: short-term memory loss, erratic behavior. I can help, if you let me,” Dr. Carlin tried to persuade her, speaking with a soothing tone.

An embarrassed, nervous smile tugged at Lois’ lips. ‘Short-term memory loss’? ‘Erratic behavior’? Yep, she had experienced both of those things lately.

Lately? How about on a daily basis?

~Editorializing my thoughts again, Kent?~ she grumbled to that voice inside her head before replying to the doctor. “Okay, I admit my life isn’t tiptoeing through the daisies, but I didn’t ‘disappear’…” Thank God! “I was thinking about something.”

“Lois, you can’t ignore what took place during the hostage crisis here,” Dr. Carlin reminded her. “Perry tells me that you witnessed your best friend die when her car exploded just six months ago and, more recently, you were kidnapped by that man on the island. Then, just last night your childhood friend tried to sacrifice you in some kind of ritual. This is why the board and Mr. Stern hired me on as staff psychiatrist, to talk to everyone about their problems and lower stress in the newsroom. I’ve been waiting for over a year for you to come and knock on my door.”

Lois smiled sheepishly. Okay, she lived a rough life, but she wouldn’t be half the investigative reporter she was, if she didn’t.

The good doctor seems well-versed on your life, Lois, I wonder why that is.

Her embarrassment slipped off her face as she raised a curious eyebrow. “You seem to know quite a lot about me. Are you a fan?”

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you. After what happened with Lex, I was sure you and I would be talking sooner or later,” explained Dr. Carlin. “Behavior, like yours, could – if left untreated – turn violent. Tell me, have you had the desire to strike out at anybody recently?”

Lois pressed her lips together. ~Only her.~ “No.”

“Hmmmm.” Dr. Carlin thought for a moment. “Tell me about ‘Superman’.”

“What?! Did Perry…?” Lois snapped, pointing out of the conference room.

“When you came out of your trance, you said ‘Superman’,” Dr. Carlin explained.

“I wasn’t in a trance,” Lois corrected.

“Perry thinks that this psychic that you mentioned to him – Star? – put you in some kind of trance and convinced you, possibly via hypnotism, that Lex survived the terrorist take-over of the Planet because of some superhero that you call ‘Superman’. So, I repeat, who is Superman? What does he mean to you?”

Perry thought that Star had brainwashed her into believing Clark was real? That was preposterous!

Is it? If you had met Star back around the time you first starting hearing my voice, it would be a more understandable explanation to what was going on with you than your time-traveling theory. With all that you and I’ve dealt with over the last few years, a brainwashing psychic who makes you seem crazy isn’t a big stretch.

Clark had a point there, but she still felt bad that Star, who had done nothing but try to help Lois, got tied up in this mess.

“Star didn’t hypnotize me until this morning, when I asked her for some assistance with some repressed memories,” Lois informed the woman, sitting down on the sofa and picking up her briefcase. “If Perry doesn’t believe me, he can listen to the tape I recorded of the session for my reference.” And safety. She hated being hypnotized without someone there to watch out for her. Lois held up her mini tape recorder, which she had removed from her bag.

“What else did this psychic tell you?” Dr. Carlin asked, leaning forward.

Lois waved Star’s involvement out of the air. “Uh… just some stuff about the dead man who wasn’t really dead and his ex-wife and some women who was me, but not really, and…” an old Clark and a new Clark. “It didn’t make any sense.”

Dr. Carlin’s eyes widened and darted to the mini tape recorder in Lois’ hand. “I would like to hear that,” she mumbled.

Why?

“That’s not on this tape,” Lois said, popping out the cassette and putting it in her pocket. She saw Dr. Carlin’s eyes follow her movements. Clark was right, she couldn’t trust this woman. She just wished Clark would tell her why.

With a resigned sigh, the psychiatrist leaned back in her chair. “So, Lex loved you. Did you love him?”

Lois rolled her eyes and dropped her briefcase back on the ground. This woman was like a scratched record. She was proving Lois’ theory about therapy being a waste of time with every repeated theme. “No, he was a womanizing creep.”

“Then why were you dating him? Because he was rich?”

“No…” Lois was getting tired of this line. Was this what everyone thought of her? Probably. “Okay, fine, I learned about his deviant ways just recently, but even so I didn’t love him. I hardly knew the man. It was flattering that such a well-known, powerful humanitarian was interested in me, my career, and my opinions.” She shook her head. “God, why would I ever agree to marry him?”

“What?!” gasped the doctor.

Lois waved the topic out of the air. “Something someone said in a dream…” She sighed, gazing across the room, not wanting to think about Lex any longer.

She could picture the day she and Clark had worked in this room on the Messenger explosion, when they had discovered Dr. Platt’s theory had been correct. They had hugged in their excitement. When she closed her eyes, Lois could almost feel Clark’s arms encompassing her. It was the best hug. There was something about having his arms wrapped around her that made her feel safe and protected… even then. His enthusiasm at solving his first investigation had rubbed off on her and they were soon both laughing with such glee. She remembered how he had stepped back and asked her to dinner; she had hesitated at first, but then pushed past her fear and said ‘yes’. She remembered the butterflies, the anticipation… her attraction. She winced. “Lex ruined everything.”

“How?” asked Dr. Carlin.

But Lois wasn’t listening to her. Her mind was far away, in another time.

She marched into Lex’s penthouse. Her life felt like it was over, and she had promised Lex an answer, so she might as well get it over with. Superman had rejected her, and she had stupidly discounted Clark’s love. Now, she and Clark could hardly say a civil word to one another.

They were on opposite sides of the spectrum on their opinions of Lex. She didn’t know why he hated Lex so. A usually articulate Clark couldn’t say anything more definite than insults and name-calling. It was strange. Was he jealous? Maybe she had misjudged Clark and his motivations the other day in the park. Had she been wrong about Clark’s feelings? Had he really been in love with her? How well would they have worked as a couple anyway? They were constantly arguing, fighting, yelling, and screaming. Weren’t those the very qualities she had hated in her own parents’ marriage?

Wasn’t that also why Lex’s marriage proposal seemed so appealing? Because they never had an uncivil word? They either agreed on everything or they persuaded the other, calmly, collectively to the other’s viewpoint. That was what a marriage was supposed to be, wasn’t it? Working together.

Lois could still feel the weight of Lex’s heavy engagement ring on her finger. It felt heavier on her heart. She had never changed Lex’s mind about anything. He had been the grand manipulator in their relationship, plying her with false comfort, lies, and flattery to get her to see what he had wanted her to see.

Excuses, she scoffed with a shake of her head. Every reason she had given herself not to love Clark, of why their relationship wouldn’t work, was just an excuse. She had been scared, worried of loving and losing. She had told herself that it was better to be in a relationship with companionship than love.

“Have you ever loved someone and knew you’d love them your entire life, whether or not they ever loved you in return?” Lois asked Dr. Carlin. Only Clark had ever made her feel that way… Well, and Superman. She felt like rolling her blind eyes at the obviousness of it all.

That’s how I feel about you, Clark confessed. And I made some pretty bad decisions because of it too.

“Once,” Dr. Carlin answered. “I loved him as much as any woman could love a man, and even though he divorced me, I still love him to this day.”

Divorced? Dr. Arianna Carlin is somebody’s ex-wife?

Lois could tell that Clark was leading her somewhere, trying to show her clues, so that she could figure out the puzzle on her own, and it was damn exasperating. Why did everything have to be some big secret for her to piece together and uncover? If he knew the answer, why didn’t he just tell her already?

~Wait a minute. Ex-wife? Are you trying to tell me she’s the ex-wife that Star warned me about? The ex-wife that would try to kill her? Is this why you don’t want me to trust her?~

Clark didn’t answer, but she felt a warmth surround her as if Clark had given her one of his smiles. She must be on the right track. Now, how could she…?

“Did he ever remarry? This ex-husband of yours?” Lois inquired.

“No,” Dr. Carlin practically snarled. “But he became obsessed with another woman and started to change his life to include her.”

“Started to?” Lois continued to probe.

“He…” The doctor smiled like a Cheshire cat drinking a bowl of cream. “… met with an unfortunate accident. He relies on me fully now.” Then, where there had been a smile a moment before, a stern scowl appeared. “Yet, still he’s obsessed with her.”

Lois felt a chill slither down her spine. Ex-wife. A dead husband that wasn’t really dead, only partially dead. An ex-wife who wanted her dead. She gulped. She needed to get out of there. She looked down at her wrist where her watch usually was.

“My, look at the time. I think our hour is up, Dr. Carlin. This has been most helpful. Thank you. I feel better already,” Lois said, rising to her feet and moving slowly to the door.

“Where are you going, Lois? It hasn’t been an hour yet,” Dr. Carlin informed her.

~Really? ‘Cause it felt like more than two hours to me,~ she thought to Clark. Lois pointed over her shoulder to the conference room door. “Well, you don’t mind if we take a break now, then, do you? I really could use a trip to the little girl’s room. Excuse me.” She turned and ran out of the room. As she turned the corner, she smacked right into Jimmy.

“Jimmy, thank God!” Lois gushed and then remembered he was the one who had turned her in to Perry earlier. No, she wouldn’t share her full revelation with him, but she did need more information. She glanced back towards the conference room and, moving them further away, lowered her voice, “I need you to find out the name of Dr. Arianna Carlin’s ex-husband. He may be deceased.”

“Lois, you’re investigating your therapist?” he confirmed skeptically.

“She said that he met with ‘an unfortunate accident’,” she replied.

“Oh. Oh! I see. Okay,” Jimmy said, nodding. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Thanks. I’m also waiting on either a fax or a phone call from Clark’s parents, verifying my story. You need to tell me right away if either comes in, okay?”

Jimmy smiled indulgently at her. “Sure, Lois. I’ll do that.”

He doesn’t believe I’m real, Lois, I doubt he believes my folks are real either.

~Well, then, won’t he be surprised when your parents call?~ she told Clark. “Thanks, Jimmy.” She patted his arm. Hopefully, she could stop this murder attempt on her own. What had Star told her? The dead man, who wasn’t Clark, would return. Lois would die – or someone confused for her – and then time would go back, causing Clark – Old Clark, her Clark – to die for good. She needed to stop this chain of events. She needed to talk to Perry.

Lois knocked on the Chief’s door and he waved her inside.

“Carlini’s? Yes, what’s this about you not delivering to the Daily Planet any longer?… Uh-huh… I see… That’s not important… send another delivery boy… I’m having the fettuccini with the fresh tomato and basil sauce, light on the oil, heavy on the garlic bread… Terrific!” Perry hung up the phone. “Afraid to make deliveries to the Daily Planet! Ha! Are we scary people?” he asked her rhetorically. He leaned back in his chair. “So, Lois, all cured?” He glanced at his watch. “That didn’t take long.” His brow furrowed. “Did you leave in the middle of a session, honey?”

“Perry!” Lois said, going on the defensive. “Dr. Carlin is trying to kill me.”

Subtle.

Her boss folded his hands together with his fingertips touching. “Did she tell you that, Lois?”

“Of course not, Perry. It’s a long story, and I’ve got to get back in there before she starts having suspicions that I know. Star told me a couple of days ago to watch out for the dead man’s ex-wife,” Lois explained and then shot her arm out towards the conference room as if to connect the dots.

“Uh-huh, and Arianna’s ex-husband is dead?” he inquired.

“She said that he met with ‘an unfortunate accident’. I’ve got Jimmy working on it,” she said.

“You’ve got Jimmy working on a harebrained theory that some psychic cooked up? Lo-is…”

“I’ve got Jimmy following a lead on a possible death threat against me. Clark says she’s untrustworthy and definitely the one Star warned me about,” Lois clarified, interrupting her boss.

“Uh-huh. If Clark knows who the ex-husband is, why doesn’t he just tell you?” Perry asked, humoring her.

“Tell me already, Clark,” she growled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

“He says that I wouldn’t believe him if he told me,” she said, passing on Clark’s message.

“Uh-huh. You tell Clark, I don’t believe him now,” Perry retorted. “Or Star ever!”

Lois pressed her lips together and placed her hands on her hips. “Star did not brainwash me, Perry. I’ve been hearing Clark a hell of a lot longer than I’ve known Star. Secondly, Clark can hear you just fine; I don’t have to relay messages to him. And, thirdly, if you don’t believe in him, why are you sending him messages?!” She reached into her slacks pocket and removed the cassette from her mini tape recorder. She tossed it on his desk. “Here is the session Star and I had this morning when she unlocked my memories. She told me a couple of days ago that Clark contacted her to check out my future, and she was so worried about what she saw, she came straight up to find me…”

“Now, Lois, honey…”

She held up a hand, asking him to let her finish. “Star told me that soon the dead man will return and that I will die.”

Perry’s jaw dropped as if he was at a loss for words.

“Then Star told me that it was the dead man’s ex-wife who would kill me, only she ends up killing someone who looks like me instead.”

“What would Arianna’s motive be in wanting you dead?” Perry inquired.

“I don’t know! Are anyone’s motives for trying to kill me justified? Don’t answer that.” Lois thought for a minute, snapping her fingers. “She… she… she said that her ex-husband got obsessed with a woman shortly before his accident, maybe I’m that woman.” Stranger things had happened.

Perry shrugged. “Normally, I’d think that was a bit of a stretch, but with the number of psychopaths you’ve angered over the years, it’s possible one or two of them became obsessed.”

Lois raised a brow. “One or two?”

You’ve had more than that in this year alone, and it’s only September.

“What I mean to say, Lois, is that description doesn’t narrow down our list of suspects, does it? Especially, if said suspects include the dead,” Perry said. “Now, having said all that, it doesn’t mean I believe that our resident psychiatrist is out to get you. It sounds to me like Clark is making you a bit paranoid.”

Great.

“You know, Perry, just because I may be little bit paranoid, doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there trying to kill me,” she screamed.

The office door opened and Dr. Carlin walked in. “I hope I’m not interrupting. Lois, this doesn’t look like the powder room to me.” She took hold of Lois’ arm. “Come on, let’s finish our talk.”

Lois shot the Chief a knowing expression as she tried to stop Dr. Carlin from escorting her from the room.

“Arianna, Lois is under the strange impression that you want her dead,” Perry informed the doctor.

“Per-ry!” gasped Lois, in shock. How could he tell Dr. Carlin what she had told him in secret?

“Why, Lois, that’s ridiculous!” replied Dr. Carlin. “What on earth gives you that idea?”

“Clark told her,” Perry informed the psychiatrist.

“Per-ry! Confidential sources are confidential,” Lois reminded her boss.

“Not if they’re dead and communicating with you from the other side, Lois,” he said. “You need help.”

“And I’m obviously not going to get it here!” she rebutted.

“Lois, I’m not trying to kill you; I’m trying to help you. Let’s go back into the conference room where we can talk in private,” Dr. Carlin suggested calmly, leading Lois from Perry’s office. “I’d like to know more about this Clark fellow.”

Of course she would.

“Why?” Lois demanded, pulling her hand free from Dr. Carlin’s.

“I’m curious why he dislikes me so,” said the psychiatrist.

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was because she shot me with a Kryptonite bullet and tried to frame you for it.

“She did, what?!” Lois stammered, turning to Dr. Carlin with horror. ~Why would she do that?~

Dr. Carlin pushed her into the conference room and shut the door behind her.

Because she blamed us for Lex’s death.

Lois froze and leaned against the door, swallowing a new supply of bile. “Lex died? I thought he survived being shot.”

The doctor stared at Lois and took a few steps back. “Lois, of course Lex died. Don’t you remember?” She looked both scared and angry, her voice hollow.

Lois’ brow furrowed. Why would the doctor be scared of Lois? Why did she sound nervous? It seemed a reversal of the woman’s earlier demeanor.

Because she blamed Superman for not saving Lex’s life, and she blamed you…

“And she blamed me, because he loved me,” Lois finished Clark’s sentence, focusing her eyes on Dr. Carlin. “You were once married to Lex Luthor.”

Dr. Carlin smiled, her eyes cold. “Yes. Yes, I was, and he loved me… until you came along…”

“Lex didn’t say anything about being married,” Lois said, not in real life and not in her other life, where they were engaged to be married. “He said I was the first woman he had ever loved.”

“I’m the only woman Lex has ever loved!” roared Dr. Carlin, rushing at Lois.

Lois blocked her both with a half-front roundhouse and a punch with the palm of her hand, knocking the woman against a side-table and sending her crashing into the lamp that had been there. “You’re insane!”

Dr. Carlin looked up from the table and hissed, “You’re lucky I’d do anything to make Lex happy.” She bled from cut on her cheek and from the corner of her mouth.

“Lois, open this door!” Perry ordered from behind her, as Lois was still leaning up against the conference room door.

She stepped away and let her boss and Jimmy in. “Dr. Carlin is nuts, Perry. She attacked me.”

Perry looked between Lois standing in a defensive position next to the door and back to where Dr. Carlin sat bleeding on the floor, next to the broken lamp. She had a new cut on her arm that hadn’t been there a moment before, which gave her the appearance of a fragile, innocent woman.

“I attacked her?” stammered Dr. Carlin in disbelief, wiping the blood near her mouth with the back of her hand. “We came in here and she hit me out of the blue, claiming I was trying to kill her.”

“She attacked me! I was defending myself,” Lois explained.

“Lois Lane is a paranoid schizophrenic and needs to be taken to the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable,” Dr. Carlin announced. “ – where she won’t be able to hurt anyone else and she will get the best care possible.”

“No!” Lois screamed, turning to Perry and pointing at Arianna Carlin. “I’m not crazy. She attacked me. She’s Lex Luthor’s ex-wife!”

Her boss looked at the doctor, who shrugged and told him, “She’s hearing voices, she thinks I’m trying to kill her, and she thinks that Lex is still alive and out to get her.”

“I don’t think that Lex is still alive. I know he’s dead. If anyone here is delusional, lady, it’s you,” Lois retorted, before a sense of dread tickled down her spine.

Lois, Lex! Lex is the dead man who isn’t really dead.

Perry placed a gentle hand on her arm as Lois’ mind started to swirl with this new possibility. “Lois, honey, you told me this morning that Lex didn’t die during the terrorist hostage thing last year and that he bought the Daily Planet.”

“You imagined that Daily Planet had been bombed and that my dead cousin Jimmy had been hurt,” Jimmy reminded her.

“Maybe a few days of rest and relaxation is just what you need, darlin’,” Perry continued.

“I’m not crazy!” Lois yelled, having difficulty concentrating on what was happening in the room and this new complication in her head. ~How can Lex be alive, Clark? He was dead before the terrorists left the building.~

Perry held up his hands. “I’m not saying that you are, honey. I’m just saying you need a few days of rest. I’ll get you out of there as soon as I can,” he said.

“Out of where?” Lois demanded as two security guards, who had been pushing their way through the crowd of reporters outside the conference room, grabbed her arms. “I’m not crazy!”

“Honey, you attacked Arianna for no reason.”

“In self-defense! I’d rather go to jail than to a padded cell, Perry. You know that,” Lois said, trying to pull free from the security guards.

“Take her to my office until the orderlies from the Luthor House arrive,” instructed Dr. Carlin, climbing to her feet and approaching Lois’ boss. “I’m so sorry, Perry. It’s all my fault. I should’ve insisted on seeing her before now. I just hope it’s not too late.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry, we’ll put her on suicide watch.”

The security guards pulled Lois through the crowd of her colleagues as she continued to profess her innocence. “I’m not insane. You’ve got to believe me! I’m not crazy.”

Wally shook his head, walking away. “That’s what they all say.”

***

Chapter Twenty-One

Perry sat at his desk, staring at the mini cassette tape. He spun it around in his hand, tapping it against the desk every few spins or so. It had been two days since Lois had attacked Dr. Arianna Carlin in the conference room and had been whisked off to the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable.

He had forgotten about the cassette that first day; filling out paperwork and issuing statements to the MPD for the arrest of his best reporter had kept his mind off of the thing. Perry had only remembered it when he was cleaning up before heading home that night and had heard it fall to the floor. He hadn’t listened to the cassette until the next morning because he had wanted to have a clear head to hear it. Since then, he had listened to it twice more, especially since Arianna had called asking for the tape specifically. Apparently, Lois had told Arianna about it, put it in her pants pocket, and then it had disappeared when they had her in custody. Perry told the psychiatrist he hadn’t seen it.

He spun the cassette around in his fingers again. Still, he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Perry didn’t want Lois to be crazy. Her story had been so off-the-wall that Perry couldn’t believe it was true, but the more he listened to that tape and heard her talking about Clark and Lex, sounding more like the full-of-life woman she had been over a year ago when those memories were supposed to have taken place, the more he had wanted it to be true.

Lex Luthor, Perry scoffed. The man had been an idiot, and he had fooled the world into thinking he was some genius, humanitarian, philanthropist businessman, but when push had come to shove, and they had been locked in the conference room by terrorists, Lex’s true colors had come shining through. Lex Luthor had been scared, terrified, and about as smart as molasses on a turnip truck. The man had panicked and almost gotten Perry shot with his rash fake heart attack plan.

Then the billionaire wanted to negotiate with the terrorists. Perry rolled his eyes. Negotiating with terrorists was like trying to negotiate with a three-year-old. It might have sounded good on paper, but you were going to lose every time, because they never played by the rules. Any intelligent businessman should have known that. Finally, as soon as Lois had convinced the terrorists to allow her use the restroom, Luthor had bolted for the exit and had gotten himself shot. Imbecile! Perry had let Lois think Luthor had been going for help, but he knew the truth. The man was just trying to save his own skin.

Nothing like a little stressful event to test the mettle of a person, and Luthor had failed like an Elvis movie without singing or a pretty girl. Perry had never told anyone about his findings because the man had died, and it felt like kicking a dead dog. Yet when, a few months ago, Lois had decided to investigate the man behind the curtain, the editor admitted to doing a little happy dance in his office. Not only for Lois’ sake, because the woman deserved to know the truth about Bimbo the Billionaire, but for the world’s sake. If anyone could find out the truth about Lex Luthor, it was Lois Lane.

Sadly for her sanity, Lois had found out more than just the bare truth. Lex Luthor had been a horrible, horrible man, bad to women, small children, the good name of science, and even the environment. The worst of it was how he had used women, used Lois. This had been a case of ignorance being bliss, and investigating Luthor had been like opening Pandora’s box.

The editor wanted to believe so much that Star had been responsible for his reporter’s lack of sanity, brainwashed via hypnotism or some other such crap, but Star hadn’t sounded like she was taking advantage of Lois on that tape. He had heard Lois specifically ask Star to unlock those memories. It had been Lois’ choice, Lois’ memories. It also would explain why Lois had been acting so strangely that day in the office, what with all that new information from her other life suddenly rushing into her brain. If this Clark fellow did have some other-worldly connection with Lois, it would explain why she had unexpectedly decided to take a better look behind Luthor’s curtain when she had always taken the billionaire at his word before.

Unfortunately, if her story was true, it meant that Perry had a fully sane reporter, whom he loved like a daughter, who was going through something scary and terrifying, who had come to him for advice and assistance, and whom he had thrown to the wolves.

He needed facts.

There was a soft knock on his door. Perry glanced up, and then waved Olsen inside.

“Here are those photo sheets you asked for,” Jimmy said almost shyly, holding out the sheets.

Perry didn’t know if the kid was being quiet because he felt partially to blame for what happened to Lois, or because his boss had been a bear the last three days. The Chief sighed, taking the papers. If he had to guess, it was the latter, as he himself was feeling the former.

“Jimmy, any luck getting hold of Lois’ family?” the editor asked, already knowing the answer.

The young photographer’s naturally sunny disposition darkened as his shoulders fell. “There really isn’t anyone left to contact, Chief. Dr. Lane went MIA after that cyborg boxing scandal a few years back. Then her sister, Lucy ran off with that jewelry store robber, Johnny C-something last year, and since Lois hasn’t mentioned her since, I’m guessing she’s still on the lam. When her mom started drinking again after that, complaining about Dr. Lane’s abandonment and blaming Lois for Lucy’s bad life choices, Lois washed her hands of the woman. I tried finding Mrs. Lane, but she’s no longer at her last known address. Lois’ uncle Mike was killed in the explosion at his restaurant last year. I was able to find a name of the cousin, Cindy, but apparently she’s off on her honeymoon and won’t be back for a week or two.”

Perry nodded. He had feared as much. He, Jimmy, and the Planet were the closest thing to family Lois had, and they had thrown her under the bus when she needed them the most. No wonder she wanted to believe in this Clark fellow so much. Frankly, after what he had heard on the tape, he had wanted to believe in him, too.

‘Cause the real one is… is… Clark!’ Lois had said on the tape, regarding Superman.

No wonder the woman had told Jimmy she felt insane. If Perry had been hearing Clark’s voice for months, believed he was a real ghost, and suddenly found out the man was also a super strong, flying, vigilante in tights, he might feel like he had just fallen down a well too. Lois had told Perry that only Clark could contact Superman. Well, if Clark had been Superman, it made sense that if he had died as a baby that Superman would never appear. It would also explain why someone from the future would want to go into the past and kill Clark. He admired his reporter for trying to keep Kent’s secret to the end, not that the revelation would have helped her sanity plea any.

Perry rubbed his brow. He couldn’t believe that he was starting to think that Lois’ wild story was true. If he had had this problem with any other reporter, he wouldn’t be second guessing himself or his original findings, but… dammit, this was Lois Lane. Bizarre things happened to Lois all the time. Why not this?

“Chief?” Jimmy inquired softly.

“What, son?” Perry said, raising his eyes. He had forgotten that the kid was still in his office.

“You said something about going to see Lois yesterday? How is she doing?”

It hadn’t been pretty. “She was out of it. They had her pumped full of sedatives, because she bit an orderly in an attempt to escape.” Perry shook his head. “She was just sitting there in the common area, rocking back and forth, staring at a wall.”

Jimmy’s gaze fell to the floor. “Oh.”

Perry had sat down next to Lois and called her name four times before she even turned to look at him, but she never saw him, her eyes never focused on him. It was as if she was looking straight through him, as if she didn’t know who he was. Both of her wrists were bandaged like she had tried to harm herself. It was his fault. He had done this to her.

‘A dead man’s ex-wife wants to kill me, only she ends up killing someone who looks like me instead,’ was the last thing Lois had told him, a prediction from the psychic. Instead of listening to her – a woman whose off-the-wall hunches had been true more times than not – he had returned her to Arianna, despite Lois’ claims that the woman was the one who wanted to kill her.

His brow furrowed. A woman who looked like her? “Jimmy!” Perry hollered.

“Yeah, Chief?” Jimmy asked with a jolt.

“What are you working on?”

“Paulson and I are relooking into the murder of Dr. Heller, that plastic surgeon found in the dumpster last year,” Jimmy replied. “Apparently a bum has come forward. He saw two people carrying the body, a pretty brunette woman and someone named ‘Harry’. Detective Ryder has him working with an artist, but his memory is sketchy.”

Perry brushed that story aside. “Did you ever get that information that Lois asked you for the other day?”

The young man gulped. “What information was that, Chief?” Jimmy asked.

“About Arianna Carlin’s ex-husband,” Perry reminded him.

“Oh, I thought since Lois…”

“You thought wrong. Lois has been sitting in that hell-hole for almost three days now. After everything that woman has done for us, don’t you want to make sure we didn’t make a mistake? Find him by the end of the day! Capiche?” Perry barked, and Jimmy literally jumped. “This evening I’m paying a thousand smackers for bad seats at some charity symphony opening night to-do with Alice, and I want some good news before I leave.”

“Yes, sir!” Jimmy yelped as he disappeared out the door.

***

“And what sort of activities do you have for your guests?” a diminutive man with the spectacles asked the woman giving him a tour. “My sister is very creative and loves to do art.”

“We have a supervised activities room,” the tour guide told the man, indicating a room that they passed with checkers and bingo. “But by far the most popular room for our guests is the art studio called the Day Room.” She led him to a large room with a skylight. It was a bright room, warm and inviting, except for the fishbowl feeling it gave off with the floor to ceiling thick glass panel wall in it that separated half the room from the other. “Our guests are allowed, supervised of course, to draw, paint, work with clay, or do beadwork. We have found that it greatly helps with their therapy to have their mind free this way.”

Herb looked around the room, itching to take another glance at the folded newspaper in his hand. “May I look around?” he asked hopefully, unconsciously wiping his mustache.

The woman beamed at him. “Feel free. We only ask that you stay in this room. The room on the other side is for some of our more restricted guests.” Her two-way radio buzzed and a slight expression of irritation crossed the woman’s face as she reached down for the offending object. “Excuse me.” The woman stepped away from him and hissed into the radio, “What is it? I’m on a tour!”

Wells ignored his tour guide, because he wasn’t really interested in the facilities, his perfectly sane sister having long since died. He was about to glance down at his newspaper, when an older man, with his forehead reaching deep into what was left of his graying hair, approached him. The man wore a pale yellow cardigan with a shirt and a tie and appeared to work there. Herb wondered if he was one of the supervisors to which his tour guide had referred.

“Are you interested in joining us here?” the man asked Herb. “The food is superb and the service top notch.”

“That’s good to hear. My sister is very particular,” Herb said nervously, stepping away from the man and inching toward the glass walls. He glanced around at the other occupants of the room, but none were the woman for whom he sought.

“And what is your sister like, if I may ask?” the man said, following.

“Very polite. Quiet. She thinks she’s Mary Todd Lincoln,” Herb lied, his eyes gazing over the occupants in the other room on the other side of the glass wall, searching. He hated this aspect of this particular assignment, but if he were to be completely honest with these people, he would become a card-carrying resident here and he wanted to avoid that scenario at all costs. While he knew himself to be who he was, a time-traveling author from the past who had been living in the future, they most certainly would not believe him, just as they hadn’t believed Lois. He was familiar with such places back home in England, but this one had outdone itself with its modern conveniences and its impression of freedom.

“I once knew such a woman over at Happy Hollow Rest Home, WandaMae Waldecker. You wouldn’t be her baby brother William that she was always talking about, perchance?” the man asked Herb. Then his voice became melancholy. “Oh, no. That’s right, he died, committed suicide. That’s why she was forced to leave.”

Herb swallowed. He had forgotten that WandaMae Waldecker was alive and well in this era, and not just a footnote in the history. “Sorry, my sister’s name is Mary,” he explained, moving further away from the man and closer to the glass walls.

His eyes finally spotted the woman for whom he was searching. She was sitting alone at a table with papers and crayons on it. It was not all surprising to find her in the restricted area, but he was disappointed that he would not to get a chance to speak with her and hear her story.

The man in the cardigan followed Herb’s gaze and sighed. “She’s beautiful, is she not?”

“Yes,” Herb agreed softly; although, to be true she didn’t fit that description at the moment. Her hair hung limply around her drawn face, and she was dressed in a hospital nightgown. “Do you know anything about her?”

“She moved in there just this week. Alas, rumor has it that she’s fiancée to someone powerful,” the man informed him.

“Is that so?” Herb answered with some surprise. From his earlier explorations, he had not been able to find any record of Clark Kent or Superman. Perhaps he had been mistaken.

The man sighed, and then explained, “Sadly, he died, so she’s in mourning.”

“Ah…” Herb said noncommittally. He hadn’t been mistaken. Having watched Lois since they had first spotted her, he noticed she had yet to move. He had never seen a woman with more vibrancy and energy, and to see her so… He shook his head. No wonder he hadn’t recognized her at first. With no expression at all on her face, she sat at the table and stared at the floor, so strongly it was as if she could see through it. Had she given up? She seemed so resigned to this fate. The papers in front of her on the table for which to use for drawing were still blank. “Does she ever do anything else?”

“She’s been sedated,” the man whispered. “She bit an orderly and is being punished. That’s why she’s over in the bad room.”

Herb looked at the man with dismay. “Bit an orderly?”

“She claims that she’s sane, and was just trying to escape. No one escapes from the bad room,” the man explained.

“Oh?” Herb murmured, quelling the desire to glance down at the headline on tomorrow’s front page of the Daily Planet.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to escape,” the man went on. “The therapists are friendly, the sheets soft, and the food quite delicious, but then again, I don’t live on the evil side.”

“Evil side?”

The man wiped the word out of the conversation. “There are rumors that once you go over to the bad side, you never make it back here.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Perhaps I need to go over there and break her out, rescue her… Well, of course, not me myself. I know I may look like just a humble, ordinary guy,” he said with a shrug. “But under the mild-mannered costume beats the heart of a hero.”

“Really?” Herb asked with some interest.

“I’ll tell you, but it must be our little secret. Shhhh,” the man said, placing a finger to his lips and looking around. Then he leaned over and whispered to Herb, “I’m Batman.”

“Oh?” replied Herb, trying not to smile at the preposterous idea that this man, who was currently battling him for shortest man in the room, could ever possibly be the Caped Crusader. “I thought he lived in Gotham City?” he couldn’t resist.

The man placed his finger to his lips. “I’m undercover.” The man shot out his hand. “And you are?”

“H.G. Wells,” Herb said without thinking as he shook the man’s hand. Then he quickly blanched, glancing around. “Not the H.G. Wells though.”

“Of course not,” said ‘Batman’ with a wink. “None of us really are who we say we are. It’s important to keep up the secret identity.”

“Right so. Right so,” agreed Herb with one last glance at Lois and nodded. Yes, he would do it. He had never considered himself any kind of knight in shining armor, but since meeting Lois and Clark, he had made it his mission that the Utopian society that would be created due to their influence never be destroyed; especially since it was his fault that Tempus had been let loose in time to wreak such havoc. He seemed to spend most of his time lately cleaning up that man’s messes. “Thank you,” he said to the man and turned back to the exit where he was joined by the tour guide.

“So, what do think of our facilities?” the woman inquired, full of faux-pleasantry of a saleswoman.

“I think this will do nicely, very nicely indeed. There are just a few more things I need to check out before making my final decision,” said Herb as they passed through the door.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, her brow furrowing, as she set a hand on Wells’ back and nudged him out of the room more quickly. She picked up her two-way radio and murmured, “Contact Dr. Carlin. A patient requires her attention in the Day Room.”

Herb turned back to see to what she was referring, but the door had already closed, blocking his view. He sighed, continuing down the hall. Yes, if they returned to the beginning, perhaps Clark could get his happily-ever-after after all.

***

Perry went down in the elevator accompanied by Jimmy. Damn this monkey suit. If Alice didn’t like him in it so much, Perry would never put the horrid thing on, especially to go to a stupid charity symphony event that he would more likely sleep through, but he loved his wife, and he was on very thin ice as it was. “What do you have for me, Olsen?”

“If Dr. Carlin was married, it wasn’t registered here in Metropolis, the state of New Troy, or in America for that matter,” Jimmy said, following him out into the Daily Planet lobby. “I’ll check in her native England for any records in a couple hours when their offices open. With Lois’ wild claim that Lex Luthor was Dr. Carlin’s ex-husband, I also checked for any marriage records under his name. The same: zippo. I did find an old wedding announcement in the Daily Planet archives which mentions that he got married on a cruise ship about ten years ago, before he was anybody, but it didn’t mention the wife by name. I found the ship’s captain; he’s in a retirement home here in Metropolis. I’ll talk to him in the morning before I come in.”

“Let me know as soon as you find anything,” Perry replied, tugging on the neck of his suit as they stepped out into the cool evening air. “Where in the hell is she?” He looked up and down the street for his wife’s taxi.

“I thought you hated the symphony, Chief,” said Jimmy.

“But I love my wife…” Perry started in on his tirade before a Metro cab, with Alice inside, pulled up in front of them. He lowered his voice, “Son, when you get married, this will all make perfect sense.” He waved at Alice through the taxi window. Oh, great shades of Elvis! She had cut off all her hair and dyed what was left of it red. Now, he was going to have to lie to his wife and tell her how much he loved it. “Hi, dumplin’. New hairdo?”

“Hello, Mrs. White,” called Jimmy from behind him. “Chief, I’m going to stay until we roll. I want to log that call to London anyway.”

“Okay, Olsen. Thank you,” Perry told him with a quick wave to his junior reporter’s departing backside. He turned and gave a great big smile to Alice as he got into the cab. “Wow, dumplin’, that sure is red.”

As soon as he shut the cab’s door, the back doors locked and the compartment started filling with a smoky gas.

“What the…?” gasped Alice.

“Judas priest! What in Sam Hill’s going on here?!” Perry hollered as he tried to open his door and couldn’t. “Alice?!” His wife coughed next to him. He turned back towards the Daily Planet and screamed, “Jimmy!” but the kid was no longer there. The taxi pulled away as he continued to yell for help to no avail.

***

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kent:

I apologize for having to write this letter, but as I expressed myself so poorly during my visit to Smallville last month, I really don’t have much other recourse. I know what I have to say may sound implausible or even insane, but as the circumstances surrounding how you found Clark fit that realm as well, it’s safe to assume that you are open minded.”

Martha paced back and forth across her kitchen, the letter from Lois that they had found the night before last, once more in her hands. The pages must have fallen from the fax machine and blown under the desk again. She really hated that one flaw from their new-fangled fax machine. She’d get on Jonathan once more about fixing the tray.

“Clark was not supposed to die by Rocky Cove Creek that day, but a man named Tempus from the future decided that his troubles were your son, Clark’s, fault, therefore, he traveled back in time to kill him. You see, when Clark grew up, he developed abilities that only a person with his background could have: incredible strength, self-propelled flight, heat-vision, cooling breath, among other traits. Clark had decided that, since he had been given these powers, he needed to use them for the good of mankind.

So, shortly after I met him, he convinced you – Martha – to create for him a disguise so that he could help people fight against oppression, danger, and crime. He became a beacon for Truth and Justice, not just in the U.S.A. but around in the world. He was known as Superman. The suit you designed for him was a bright blue skintight Spandex suit with red shorts, yellow belt, red cape, and red calf boots. On his chest he wore his family’s red and yellow emblem…”

At this point Lois had drawn a diagram of Superman’s ‘S’ crest.

“… which you had found on his baby blanket.”

Martha traced her thumb over the drawing once more.

“Honey, please, let it go. She’s just trying to get a story out of us,” Jonathan said, rolling his chair from the living room into the kitchen. “Expose us to the world.”

“How? Jonathan, how does she know about the symbol that was on his blanket?” she sputtered, holding out the letter to him. He shook his head, refusing to take it, and she clutched it to her chest.

“Maybe she talked to one of those government men. You know, the ones that stopped by a few days after we found him, asking about a downed Russian satellite,” Jonathan hypothesized.

“And how would they know, Jonathan? You burned the ship and hauled it to the dump, didn’t you?” she reminded him.

He shook his head. “I know we agreed that was the best, in case whatever killed that boy might be spread around here. But it wouldn’t burn, so I buried it out in the woods, just past where we found him in Shuster’s field, near Rocky Cove creek.”

Martha eyes clouded over. “You never told me that.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said softly, taking her hand.

“You shouldn’t keep secrets from me, Jonathan Kent.”

He smiled. “That was the only one.”

Martha raised a brow. ‘We’ll just see about that’ she thought, before returning to the topic of the letter. “So what, Jonathan? She got a tip from one of those men and tracked us down, stayed in our house, helped us with our chores, all the while claiming to be looking, not for a baby, but a grown man, tall with dark hair and glasses, who had told her he was Clark Kent of Smallville, Kansas? Do you think she created such an elaborate hoax to get us to confess we found a dead baby in a spaceship thirty years ago?” Martha demanded.

“Possibly. We don’t know, Martha. I don’t think we should take that chance.”

“We buried the blanket with him, Jonathan. How would she know the symbol had been on the blanket?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe those men…” Jonathan stopped speaking as he blanched. “Oh, Martha, no!”

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him reassuringly. “No, he’s still there. I checked, yesterday morning, I dug…” She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear dripping down her cheek. “He’s fine.”

“Now, who’s keeping secrets?” he challenged lightly. “Lois works for the Daily Planet. That letter was sent with a Daily Planet coversheet.”

“Exactly! The Daily Planet, not some grocery store tabloid, a respectable newspaper, Jonathan. She says here…” Martha flipped through the pages until she found the paragraph again. “‘The Clark Kent who I know and love is a respected journalist and my partner, here at the Daily Planet.’”

“Why would any son of ours become a journalist? In Metropolis, of all places?” Jonathan retorted. “Wouldn’t you think that being from another planet, he would want to be as far away from the media as possible?”

“Or he would want to be right there in the thick of it, where he would be able to stop any rumors about himself?” Martha debated. “And why not Metropolis? If he wanted to help people as this Superman fellow, he’d want to live someplace with a large population where crime was rampant. What better place than Metropolis?”

Jonathan grinned. “Gotham?”

“Gotham City already has a hero.” She gave him her patented ‘I told you so’ look with pressed lips. “Just because he was raised by Kansas farmers, doesn’t mean he’d have grown up to be one.”

“Martha…”

“And what about this…” Martha started reading from the letter again. “… and that was how I ended up at your kitchen table that day. Perhaps you remember me. The man accompanying me, whom you were so worried about due to his pallor, was your son Clark, already sickened by the Kryptonite. Tall, dark, and handsome with glasses, just like I told you.” Martha dropped her hand with the letter down to her side. “Jonathan, I remember that couple, don’t you? It was her, Jonathan.” Her lower lip began to quiver as her eyes misted over. “And that nice, young man was supposed to be our son.”

Jonathan took her hand in his, closed his eyes, and nodded. “I remember,” he said, his voice rough. “I didn’t like that he kissed your cheek.”

Martha raised her other hand to her cheek. Yes, her son had kissed her cheek, all those years ago. “Oh, Jonathan, if there is some way we can help her, so that she can save our boy…”

Her husband tugged on her hand with his until she was sitting on his lap, where he could wrap his arms around her. “I would give anything to have such a boy, such a man for your son, Martha.”

“Me, too, Jonathan,” Martha murmured against his neck.

For a few minutes they sat there, imagining the possibilities, the life they could have had if Clark had been alive when they had found him.

Jonathan moved his wife back so he could look her in the eye. “Martha, do you think that green rock that Wayne gave us, you know the big pretty green one he found under that big oak tree that went down in the storm several years ago, is the same green meteorite that Lois mentions in the letter?” His voice caught in his throat. “That Kryptonite rock that she said killed Clark?”

Martha nodded. “It is. Remember, while she was here, we noticed it glowed.” She took a deep breath and pressed on. “I went down to Rocky Cove this morning…” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “It took some searching after all these years, but I found some of those smaller pieces, just like she mentioned throwing away from the baby in her letter.”

He set her to her feet and turned his chair towards their room. “Let’s get it out of the house, Martha. I thought it was pretty when Wayne gave it to us, but now…” he said with a shiver. “I don’t want that poison in my house any longer.”

“I’ll try Lois again,” Martha said, heading for the kitchen phone.

Jonathan stopped and looked over his shoulder at his wife. “Again?”

“I called her at home twice yesterday, but I only got her machine,” Martha explained.

“And you say I’ve been keeping secrets?” Jonathan teased, continuing to roll towards their bedroom. “Maybe you should try her at the office this time. Her letter said it was urgent.”

“That’s why I had tried her at her home,” Martha said, looking at the number on the fax coversheet and starting to dial. “I only hope we hadn’t found the letter too late. She sounded so worried about losing her job over this, and that darn letter sat under our desk for two days before we noticed it.”

***

Jimmy stepped off the elevator and into the newsroom, still shaking rain from his leather jacket. “Man, it’s raining cats and dogs out there,” he mumbled and ran a hand through his wet locks.

“Olsen! There you are,” Eduardo said, stepping out of Perry’s office. “Where have you been?”

The junior reporter’s brow furrowed. “Running up a lead for the Chief. I told him I’d be late.”

“You’ve heard from Perry?” Eduardo asked anxiously.

“He’s still not in?” Jimmy responded, jogging to Perry’s office to take a look, but no Mr. White. “Have you tried him at home? It’s not like him to be this late.”

“Of course, I’ve tried him at home,” Eduardo snapped. “Neither he nor Mrs. White answered. Did he say anything to you about being late?”

“No, last time I talked to him, he and Alice were heading to that charity symphony thing last night,” Jimmy said, reviewing his last conversation with his boss in his head again. “It’s not like the Chief’s wife not to be home. Perry says that Alice likes to sleep late the morning after they go to these black tie affairs.”

Wally walked by making kissing noises. “How’s the Chief’s butt tasting there, Olsen?”

“Grow up, Wally. Just because I’ve taken the time to listen and get to know the boss, doesn’t make me a brown-noser,” Jimmy retorted with annoyance.

“Yeah, well after Lane’s butt, I guess White’s is like dessert,” Wally shot back.

Jimmy stepped up to Wally’s over six foot frame, bumping his chest against the more senior reporter. “Just because you were too much of a chicken…”

“Guys!” Eduardo interrupted, pushing them apart. “This isn’t helping.”

Jimmy sent a nasty grimace in Wally’s direction, before turning back to Eduardo. “Has anyone checked with the Luthor Foundation for the Arts to see if the Whites made it the Metropolis Symphony last night?”

“No, I’ve got some people checking with hospitals at the moment. So far, we’re assuming he got involved in one of those fender-benders around town from the rain.” Eduardo checked his watch. “Look, I’m supposed to be meeting someone at the Metropolis Meteorological Association about this freak storm. LNN is predicting massive floods. With Lane at the looney bin, I’m next in line for holding down the fort.”

“Lois isn’t crazy!” Jimmy snarled. It was one thing for him to say it; it was quite another if anyone else did.

Eduardo’s hands shot up. “Sorry!” Then a look of curiosity crossed his face. “What’s this lead you were following up for the Chief?”

“Luthor! Lois was right. He and Dr. Carlin were married at sea about ten years ago,” the younger reporter announced, pulling out the wedding photograph the retired captain of the cruise ship had given him.

“Get out of town!” gasped Wally, staring over Olsen’s shoulder at the photo. “Lane was right?! Again! Man, how does that woman do that?”

“A hell of a lot of hard work, Wally, you should try it sometime,” retorted Jimmy with an elbow jab back into Wally’s gut. “And maybe, while you’re at it, cut down on the deep fried lunches.”

“Guys!” Eduardo hollered again. “Stop it! Wally, go to City Hall see what the Emergency Plan is for storm.”

Wally nodded and ran from their make-shift group.

“Damn! I’ve got to take this meeting,” Eduardo said, pulling on his jacket. He looked to Jimmy with a pleading expression. “Hold down the fort ‘til I get back?”

“Got it!” Jimmy nodded as his gut twisted.

It was just like the last time the Chief disappeared, only this time there was no Lois to hunt their boss down and bring him back safe. What were they going to do? If the Chief still hadn’t checked in by the time Eduardo returned, Jimmy would have to break Lois out of the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable himself. Delusional or not, they needed her.

Jimmy shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it up on the coat rack next to Lois’ desk. Her phone rang and he picked it up, leaning against her desk, “Daily Planet. James Olsen, speaking.”

There was a pause on the phone before a woman’s voice said, “Hello, Mr. Olsen. I’m looking for Lois Lane.”

“I’m sorry, she’s out of the office. Is there something I can help you with?” he asked. Joe handed him a fax for Perry.

“I don’t think so. When do you expect her back? I can call back then,” the woman replied.

“Who knows? Our reporters are in and out of the office all day, depending on their news stories, meetings with sources, and press conferences,” Jimmy explained, waving Paulson over. He covered up the receiver and handed the fax to the reporter. “Press conference at Metropolis Transportation Agency, something to do with flooding of the subway lines.”

“Got it!” Paulson responded, taking the fax.

“Can I take a message?” Jimmy said to the woman on the phone.

“When she faxed me the other day, she said that it was urgent that I contact her. Are you sure there isn’t another way to get a hold of her? Cell phone?” the woman persisted.

A chill danced down Jimmy’s spine. “Who is this?”

“Martha Kent,” she replied. He heard her take a deep breath and exhale. “Clark’s mother.”

“Holy crap!” he exclaimed and then quickly apologized, “Excuse me. Are you saying that Clark Kent is real?” He shook his head. “Of course that’s what you’re saying. You’re a godsend. Lois told me to expect your call. I just never thought… never mind what I thought. I’m sorry, it’s been a crazy day. My boss has disappeared, Metropolis is having the storm of the century that appeared out of nowhere, and with Lois at the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable… Sorry,” Jimmy said, catching himself in Lois-like ramble.

“Lois is in a psychiatric hospital?” Mrs. Kent asked weakly.

“Yes, but this is terrific news, Mrs. Kent. We’ll be able to get Lois out of there, now.” Jimmy fist pumped in the air. “Okay, I will just need some kind of written statement from you, I guess… Damn! Excuse me, I don’t know what has happened to my manners today, Mrs. Kent. I apologize. I wish Perry was here, he’d know what to do next.”

Joe walked up to Jimmy. His pallor was like lukewarm oatmeal. He looked so pale and clammy, the photographer was worried he might be coming down with something. “Jimmy.”

“Not now, Joe,” Jimmy said to the man. “Okay, Mrs. Kent. Let me get your phone…”

“Yes, now, Jimmy,” Joe said as his voice cracked.

Jimmy took another look at the man and noticed never-before-seen tears in the man’s eyes. “Is this about White?” he asked, holding his hand out for the fax, but there wasn’t one. “Hold on, Mrs. Kent.”

Joe shook his head. “Lois.” Then he turned and looked over his shoulder to Inspector Henderson.

The young reporter set the phone on his shoulder and turned to the policeman. “Inspector? Lois isn’t in. I was sure that you heard that…”

“Is Mr. White in, Olsen?” Henderson interrupted. His face looked as ashen as Joe’s.

“No, he’s missing. I’m in charge until Eduardo Friaz returns from the Metropolis Meteorological Association. What’s this about?” Jimmy asked.

Inspector Henderson swallowed and bit his bottom lip as if holding something back. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Lois Lane was killed this morning while trying to escape from the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable. She had made it onto the fire escape, but in the rain slipped on the wet steps, falling to her death.”

“No!” Jimmy sobbed. His knees buckled and he fell into Lois’ chair. He turned his eyes back to the policeman’s. “Are you sure?”

Henderson nodded. “There’s a security photo of her climbing out onto the fire escape. It’s her.”

“My God. Lois!” Jimmy groaned, then he seemed to remember the phone on his shoulder. Swallowing, he brought the phone back to his face. “Mrs. Kent…”

He heard a sniffle and then the click of her phone being hung up.

***

Chapter Twenty-Two

Two days earlier…

Lois paced in her cell as Clark tried to reassure her. She was still mad that she had been locked up with no due process. Her so-called psychiatrist had said Lois was crazy and that she attacked her and should be locked up, so she had been.

At least the walls aren’t padded.

“Very funny,” she grumbled. He was right, it wasn’t a cell per se, due to the lack of bars, and the walls weren’t padded, but the furnishings were prison bare, and the door very much solid and bolted shut from the other side. “I can’t believe Perry and Jimmy. I’ve been here for two days, and nothing! Not one word. Do you think they’ve abandoned me?”

After you bit that orderly and almost escaped, did you really expect them to allow you visiting hours? You’re lucky Arianna didn’t sedate you and chain you to your bed.

“Yeah, I don’t understand that. What’s up with her? It wasn’t my fault Lex died. He was the one who tried to escape during the terrorist heist of the Daily Planet,” she reminded him, stretching; her back still ached from both the Taser’s current and hitting the hard floor. “It wasn’t my idea.”

Are you really trying to get inside the head of a psychopath?

“You’re right, trying to understand her logic would probably drive me insane,” Lois said, dropping down onto her cot. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Clark chuckled. It’s a good thing it doesn’t happen that often.

Lois smiled at his joke. “Thanks for not abandoning me, Clark. This would be worse if I were alone.”

Now, there’s a Catch 22 for you. Are you better off in the mad house with the voice inside your head or better off if I wasn’t here, therefore have no reason for them to have locked you up in the first place? Clark’s voice said in jest, but she could still hear the guilt behind his words.

“Don’t tell me you’re blaming yourself for this, Clark,” she murmured, wishing she could touch him, hold his hand, give him a hug, something to reassure him other than her words. “It’s not your fault.”

I beg to differ there, Lois.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” she countered.

He sighed. I love you, Lois, and I’ll be here for you as long as I can be.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Clark?!” Lois snapped.

Star’s prediction.

“Oh, come on, Clark. Arianna already has me locked up, do you really think she’s going to try and kill me as well? She couldn’t torture me if I was dead,” she said with a shake of head. “Anyway, Star said the ‘ex-wife’ would try and kill me after the dead man returned. You haven’t returned as far as I can tell, so obviously something’s off with Star’s prediction.”

Unless…

“What?”

Unless I’m not the ‘dead man’ from Star’s prediction. She did say the ‘dead man’s ex-wife’, Lois.

Lois pressed her lips together. “If this is some ploy to make me believe that they could bring Lex back from the dead, don’t even go there. The man was dead, very dead. He died in the middle of the night, while handcuffed to me, his back against mine. I could feel the body temperature leach out of his body as the hours progressed, so don’t tell me that they have a way to bring back a man that dead from the grave.”

Sarah said something about Lex’s body having been stolen from the morgue.

“Didn’t I just say not to go there?” Lois retorted.

Lois, Lex came back from the dead in our time too, the night of our first date.

Lois scoffed and shook her head. “Lex always had impeccable timing. Look, I’ve spent the last two days reliving months of our life together. I’ve had to deal with being engaged to Lex, almost being married to him, watching him die on our wedding day, you rescinding your love for me, and then Arianna trying to frame me for your murder. I really, really don’t want to hear about Lex still being alive. Can’t I just be happy that he’s dead for a while? Both in real life and in my memories?” She dropped her head into her hands for a moment, and then she raised it, her brow knitted with an expression of confusion. “Wait? We went on a date? A date date? How did that come about?”

I asked you out, and you said ‘yes’.

“Wow. Do they actually pay you for writing there, Kent?”

He chuckled sheepishly. Lois had never known a man who could express so much through his voice.

We didn’t actually go. Lex came back, and Perry put us on a stakeout.

“Still, it would have been nice to remember you asking me out,” she said, rubbing her arms with her hands.

You will; it happened sometime after Christmas… Cold? Clark sounded worried.

“A bit,” Lois admitted, pulling her blanket over her shoulders.

I wish I had my powers so I could warm you up with my heat-vision.

~If you had a body you wouldn’t need your powers to warm me up,~ she replied.

True. His smile evident in his tone.

Lois sighed at the futility of it all. As long as she was stuck in the mental hospital, there was no way to save Clark. “All right, tell me. How did Lex come back from the dead?”

Gretchen Kelly Frankensteined him back.

“I knew it!” Lois jumped to her feet in triumph. “I knew it was her. I just knew she stole Lex’s body!” She started pacing again. “Really? She’s that good? Lex wasn’t more than a stain on the sidewalk after jumping off his balcony.” She bit her bottom lip. “Do you think those two – Arianna and Gretchen – would work together? I mean, especially if they both were supposedly obsessed with Lex? Sounds like a cat-fight waiting to happen.” She paced back and forth in silence as she thought. “If they could piece together Humpty Dumpty, a simple bullet wound be nothing, wouldn’t it?”

I assume so.

“Damn! It’s not looking good,” she said as another chill went down her spine. “We need to get out of here. You know what Star’s third prediction was.”

You die.

Lois waved that possibility away. “No, I meant the other part. The part where time starts over and you die. We’ve got to stop that.”

Lois, I’m already dead, Clark reminded her gently.

“You’re not dead until I say you’re dead,” she argued.

Oh, is that how it works?

There was a click of her bolted door, and Lois backed away, staring at it.

“Lois?” Dr. Carlin’s voice said through the small sliding window. “We’re coming in to bring you for your session. Place your hands against the wall and spread out your legs. Don’t attack us or we’ll have to sedate you.”

“Really? Is that what you call it when you Taser people now?” Lois retorted, not complying. “And I don’t need therapy. You’re the crazy one.”

“Lois, I’m not crazy, and I’m not out to kill you,” Arianna replied in her soothing tone. “Whatever Clark has told you about me isn’t real. Just like he isn’t real, Lois, and these memories of your former life with him aren’t real. Your brain is just trying to cope with all the hurt, abandonment, and death you’ve dealt with since Lex died.”

You better do what she says, Lois. You’ll never escape while you’re locked in here. At least out there you can get a lay of the land and figure out where to go once you do get free.

Grumbling Lois spread-eagled against the wall as they had shown her when they informed her of the rules. She heard, more than saw, the door open and two orderlies enter her cell. One of the men shoved her back with one hand, so that her chest flattened against the wall, and grabbed one of her arms with the other. The other orderly took hold of the bicep of her other arm.

“I’m obeying; mind not being so rough?” Lois snapped at the men. They ignored her.

“This way,” Dr. Carlin said to the orderlies as she had the men take her down a long hallway.

They passed several of the activity rooms: game, dining, music. A door to a bright sunny room closed as they went by. “Hey, that looks like a nice room. Can we talk in there?” suggested Lois. Her vitamin D quotient was seriously low, and where there was lots of sunshine there were lots of windows, and where there were windows maybe there could be a way out.

“No, you can’t go into the Day Room. We don’t reward guests who try to permanently check out,” replied one of the orderlies.

Permanently check out?

“Guess I’m not the only one trying to escape,” she mumbled, unsurprised. ~Who would want to live here willingly?~

They stopped at a door at the end of a hall, leading to the psychiatrists’ offices. Dr. Carlin placed her hand on fingerprint scanner to unlock the door and waited for it to allow her access. Lois had visited Dr. Carlin’s office the previous day, after twenty-four hours of cooling her heels in her cell. It had been on the way back from her office, or therapy room, that Lois had bit the orderly and tried to escape. She hadn’t made it to the end of the hall before the orderly shot her in the back with the Taser that they all carried for “protection” and security. She was now considered a “restricted” patient, which required the escort of a doctor and two orderlies whenever outside her cell, limited visitation rights, and the withholding of privileges such as access to the dining and activity rooms, entertainment, and dessert. Lucky her.

Soon Lois and Arianna were alone in the doctor’s therapy room. It technically wasn’t Arianna’s office. There was a couch for Lois and a chair for the doctor. There was no desk, no books, no pictures on the wall. There was a solid table and a couple of chairs to the side of the room, should the therapy require drawing, art, or some kind of test. A small barred window high in the wall was the only source of natural light, which was supplemented by a fixture high on the ceiling. The walls were painted a creamy pale yellow; Lois had read once that said color was supposed to have a positive influence on one’s happiness. So far, it wasn’t working.

Arianna sat down in the chair and indicated that Lois take the couch. Lois sat down, but refused to recline. She’d much rather keep both eyes on her opponent.

“So, Lois, how are you doing today?” Arianna said, opening her notebook.

“Completely cured and ready to go home,” Lois said, trying to keep the harshness out of her voice.

Dr. Carlin smiled indulgently. “I’ll determine your mental health, if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I do mind. I would like to again request transfer to another facility and access to a psychiatrist of my choosing,” Lois responded, crossing her arms and fixing her glare the woman. “Access to my lawyer would be nice as well as I have been locked up here against my will.”

“The voice inside your head, whom you’ve named Clark, has told you that I’m not to be trusted. In your paranoia, you attacked and hurt me.” Arianna raised a hand to the bandage on her cheek. Lois knew it was there more for show than for actual injury. “For the safety of the general public, you have been remanded under my care,” the doctor once again informed Lois.

“I’d rather go to jail on a misdemeanor assault and battery charge. Thank you very much,” replied Lois. “What you are saying is that because you say I’m crazy, I have lost all my rights?”

“Then let’s work on making you sane again, shall we?” suggested Dr. Carlin.

Lois pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes.

“What is Clark telling us today?” requested Lex’s ex-wife.

Nothing I would say in polite company.

The reporter needed to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing at Clark’s terse comment. Clark wasn’t one to ever speak impolitely to anyone in any company. Lois decided to see if she could startle the woman into revealing information. “Well, in my other life, the life that was supposed to be…”

“You mean the one where Lex wanted to marry you and then committed suicide when the police came to arrest him on your wedding day?” Arianna clarified in a skeptical tone. The doctor hadn’t liked Lois’ story of the events in her true destiny and hadn’t believed Lex’s behavior.

“Yes. Apparently, Dr. Gretchen Kelly, Lex’s personal physician, stole his body from the morgue, as I’m assuming she did here as well, and using unorthodox scientific practices, brought the man back to life,” Lois said, keeping an eye on Arianna’s reaction.

Dr. Carlin switched her crossed legs, shifted in her seat, and swallowed. “That’s quite the imagination you have there, Lois, or shall I say, that Clark has?”

That sounded like an admission of guilt on Arianna’s part, did it not?

~That body language didn’t lie,~ Lois agreed. ~Time to press her further.~

A phone rang and interrupted these thoughts. Lois looked around the room, finally spotting it hanging on the wall next to the door. Dr. Carlin ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Lois asked. “It could be important.”

“I’m in session, and they know never to call me while I’m with a patient,” replied Arianna.

The phone continued to ring, and it was impossible to carry on their duel of words while it did so. With each ring, Dr. Carlin’s eyes hardened.

“It could be an emergency,” suggested Lois lightly, who absolutely hated the sound of an unanswered phone as well.

Arianna got to her feet and stomped over to the phone. “What?!”

Do you think we pushed those buttons?

“You know never to call me while I’m with a patient!” Dr. Carlin reprimanded whoever was on the other end of the phone. She paused to listen to whatever ‘emergency’ had been deemed important enough to interrupt them. “I don’t care if he is… Of course, I know who he is! She’s a ‘restricted’ patient and isn’t allowed visitors… He’s threatened what?” she growled. Then the doctor looked at Lois and pursed her lips before they slowly curved devilishly upwards. “Fine! If he insists on seeing her, let’s give him what he wants. He can have fifteen minutes. She’s sedated in the infirmary and still on suicide watch after her attempt last night. Take her to the visitor’s lounge and make sure that she’s supervised at all times… I doubt she’ll speak to him. Yesterday’s… session was a difficult one, she’s practically catatonic.” This was said with gloating smile. “But if she does, let me know what she says.”

We’ve got to get you out of here.

~You took the words right out of my mouth.~ Lois swallowed as she watched Dr. Carlin hang up the phone and return to her seat.

The doctor looked down at her notepad. “Now, where were we?”

“How did she try to commit suicide?” Lois asked. Everything was so regulated in this place, she doubted anyone could overdose of pills, or get access to anything sharper than a dull butter knife, if that. Hanging perhaps?

“Are you looking for ideas?” Arianna inquired with a raised brow.

“No, I’ve got too much to live for,” Lois replied.

“Let’s get back to what you were saying before we were so rudely interrupted. You implied that in this other life with Clark, Lex was brought back to life by Dr. Kelly. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you tell me that Lex committed suicide, jumped off the balcony of his Lex Towers penthouse apartment?” Arianna clarified.

“Yes, but…”

“And how was he after Dr. Kelly resurrected him, Lois? A vegetable? The man had fallen over a hundred stories to the pavement below,” Dr. Carlin reminded her. “He must have broken every bone in his body and smashed every organ. His spine in the very least would have been destroyed. His blood must have splattered…”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Lois roared, pressing her eyes shut and covering her ears, but it was too late. The memory of Lex’s death on the sidewalk replayed itself before her very eyes in gruesome detail. Tears streamed down her face. She hated the man, but there was still a fraction of a piece of her that had once admired him and had mourned his death.

“Lois,” the woman’s voice was much softer now, calmer, coaxing. “There was probably hardly enough of him to take to the morgue, let alone steal, and rebuild into a perfectly viable body. How long did Clark say this transformation took place? Days, weeks, months? Don’t you think even if such science were possible, such a recovery would take years?”

Don’t listen to her, Lois.

“Roughly nine months,” Lois conceded.

“Clark lied to you. Can’t you see that, Lois?” Arianna reached out to touch her, but then changed her mind and withdrew her hand. “What he told you is impossible?”

~Clark?~

I cannot explain it either, Lois. Everything Arianna said makes sense. All I know are the facts as they were told to me as Lex and Dr. Kelly told them to you, and you explained them to me.

Lois squeezed her eyes closed tighter. ~Clark? I have no memory of these events yet. The last thing I remember is… was… You got nominated for a Kerth award over me?~

Clark made that slight squeaking noise he did whenever he cringed. We ran into Dr. Kelly in the cemetery several months after that, in November, I think.

~Did you win? Did you win the Kerth? Who did you take as a date to the ceremony?~ Lois got to her feet and started to pace.

Lois, that isn’t important right now. Let’s concentrate on finding out as much information as possible from Arianna about her husband… the one she said had been in an accident.

~Oh, you say it’s not important. Well, it is important. It’s important to me! I can’t believe it! You won, didn’t you?! And what piece of arm candy did you take to the awards banquet to simper and laugh at your jokes, and to bat her eyelashes at you and look at you as if you were… Oh, crap!~

Clark sighed. Yeah, you.

“Lois? Lois? Is Clark talking to you?” Arianna asked.

Lois waved the question out of the air. “So what if he is?”

“Is he still trying to convince you that he wasn’t lying? Lois, you’re an intelligent woman. What makes more sense, that Lex died or that he was resurrected into the same man in less than a year?”

She dropped back down onto the couch. “I… I… Clark doesn’t lie.”

“Doesn’t he? It’s been my experience that every man lies,” Arianna said.

Lois closed her eyes and licked her dry lips. It had been Lois’ experience too. Even Clark had lied to her… all the time, about Superman.

“Is he trying to convince you that Dr. Kelly stole Lex’s body from the morgue, here in real life too, and brought him back to life?” Arianna shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I had heard that his body was stolen, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“You don’t?” Lois asked, her voice sounding echo-y.

“Why should I? I haven’t seen Gretchen in…” Arianna thought for a moment. “… over a year, since before Lex died, I guess.”

“You know her?”

Arianna shrugged as if it were nothing. “We’re both doctors. We ran into each other at the Metropolis chapter of the AMA’s: Women in Medicine meetings.”

“Don’t you care that she may have stolen his body?” Lois gaped.

“That man was nothing to me, Lois, an acquaintance.”

“An acquaintance?! Arianna, you were married to him!” Lois retorted. “You told me that you had never loved any man more than him.”

“Lois,” Dr. Carlin said, looking Lois straight into her eyes. “I wasn’t married to that man who died at the Daily Planet when those terrorists took over. I had only met him a couple of times. I hardly knew him. He was most certainly not the man I loved, and whom I married.”

Lois’ head began to spin. Arianna Carlin had sounded so sincere, looked her in the eye, and told her the truth. She hadn’t been married to Lex Luthor. Everything Lois had learned from her memories had been wrong? Had Clark lied to her?

Never! Lois, don’t listen to her. She’s trying to turn you against me. She knows that together we are stronger, you’re stronger. She’s trying to weaken you. Remember, she’s already admitted to being married to him.

Lois lay down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. ~But everything she has said makes sense, Clark. How could Gretchen Kelly resurrect Lex? That’s impossible! Dr. Carlin is right about that. That doesn’t make any sense.~

I’m not a scientist, Lois. I don’t know how Gretchen Kelly did what she did, but she did do it. Believe me.

~Why, Clark? Why should I believe you? It doesn’t make sense, logically. Arianna’s not Lex’s ex-wife. She’s just some random person that he knew. There’s no conspiracy here,~ Lois told him. ~Why would she be trying to kill me? It was you who convinced me that I shouldn’t trust her. You who said that she was trying to kill Superman and frame me. I didn’t have memories of that event until after you told me about them. You’ve lied to me for months, Clark. Why should I believe you now?~

She sat up and looked at Dr. Carlin. Maybe Arianna, Perry, Jimmy, and Sarah were all right. Maybe Clark and these memories were her imagination after all, a coping mechanism to deal with all the crap she’d been dealt over the last few years. “I’d like to go back to my room now,” Lois murmured, defeated.

***

Chapter Twenty-Three

With this “breakthrough” all the fight inside of Lois died.

She loved Clark. She loved the idea of him. She loved that it took a rare green rock to kill him. She loved that he loved her unconditionally. She had been willing to love him unconditionally as well, but he lied to her and kept on lying to her.

Clark had twisted Star’s crazy prediction into an unrealistic scenario and made her paranoid. What he had suggested just couldn’t have happened like he had said it had. Dr. Carlin had been right about that. There hadn’t been enough of Lex after such a skydive to piece back together for shark food, let alone a whole, living, breathing, fully functional person, especially within the span of less than a year. The brain and spinal cord damage alone would have made that impossible. She couldn’t believe she had been so duped. Again. Maybe she could believe it. It seemed to be her pattern with men.

Her dreams were morphing into nightmares. Mayson had been there. Lois’ former best friend was obsessed with Clark and kissed him! Clark didn’t seem to mind either. Lois hated them both for it. Could she really have been so petty and jealous over a man whose heart she herself had broken? Did she deserve to be so? Should she have expected him to continue to love her, wait for her, after the way she had treated him? Or was the dream just a ploy to make her jealous? Was Clark trying to make her believe in him wholeheartedly again by realizing how much she hated seeing him with another woman, by mixing together facts from her reality with this other life to make it seem more real?

Then Clark died! He was shot by clones of gangsters no less, and died, right in front of her. Of course, she knew he wasn’t really dead, because bullets couldn’t kill him. Yet, Clark let her dream-self go on thinking that he was dead. He didn’t love her enough, trust her enough, to tell her the truth and reveal his secret to her blind-self of these nightmares. Oh, sure, he resurrected himself – or his Clark Kent persona – a couple of horrible days later. She bought it again, hook, line, and sinker! What an idiot she had been to believe him so willingly. These scenarios were getting stranger, weirder, and more and more unbelievable. Clones? Again! Please, hadn’t they done the clone storyline already? How could she have ever believed these dreams had once been her life?

Then they found out that Gretchen Kelly did have Lex’s body hidden away in some laboratory at the cemetery. Looky that, just like Clark had told it to her. Only how could Lois trust these dreams as memories any longer when Clark – the consummate liar – had already told her that they were true? Maybe he was implanting these thoughts, memories, dreams, nightmares into her head. None of it felt real. It felt like she had fallen into her favorite TV show and now couldn’t escape, tortured by a man who she had once believed was her hero.

Clark had receded into the back reaches of her mind once more. He hadn’t left, Lois could still sense him there, but he was depressed. He had gotten tired of arguing with her, trying to convince her that he had been real, and finally had gone off to mope.

I’m not moping, Clark grumbled in a dejected voice. Sure sounded like moping to her.

~Clark, I want to believe in you, really I do. I would like nothing better than to have you proved right and Dr. Carlin proved wrong,~ Lois said inside her head to him the next day as she sat motionless at a table in the Day Room.

Her lack of any sort of enthusiasm for life, since her therapy session with Dr. Carlin, was seen as such a good thing, they had rewarded her by letting her go to the room with all the windows and skylight to do some drawing with crayons. What was she? Four?

The room itself held no curiosity to her at all. Any interest in finding a way out, of escaping back into Metropolis, had disappeared with her complete belief in Clark. Anyway, what sort of life would she be escaping to?

She was dressed in the hospital gown they had given her to sleep in. She saw no reason to get dressed. If she was indeed crazy, what was the point of putting on real clothes, especially if she had been wearing the same clothes for three days straight? Hell, she hadn’t even been given the opportunity to take a shower. She might as well play the hand she had been dealt. It wasn’t like she was going to go anywhere anytime soon or have any visitors. What did she have to live for? No family. No friends. No job. She hoped someone had thought to feed her fish.

Lois sighed. She didn’t want to believe that both Perry and Jimmy had abandoned her to this fate. Did they really think she was crazy? Did they have no hope left for her? It wasn’t like she had any family left to care. The Daily Planet was her family or, at least, it had been.

Honey, do you remember what Dr. Carlin said to you before she attacked you in the conference room?

She mentally shrugged; the physical exertion seemed pointless. They had been over this before.

Look at the facts, Lois. Arianna said that she had been married to Luthor and that ‘Lex had only loved her’. That was why she had attacked you, because you told her what he had said about only loving you. Now, she’s denying more than just a passing acquaintance with the man. Does that sound like a sane woman to you? A woman who claimed that she would do anything for him. Lois, please, don’t give up. You’re letting her win. You’re letting her kill you with these lies. Please, Lois.

~So, you’re done moping?~ Lois replied with a half-hearted barb.

I don’t think you meant it.

~Meant what?~

That you’d rather be crazy with me than sane without me.

Lois continued to stare at the floor, not really focusing on it as her mind concentrated on Clark’s words. Would she rather give him up and go back to what her life had been like before he had started whispering in her ear? Going to work, living vicariously through other people’s stories, eating microwave meals by herself, dating men like Scardino? Or worse, Lex? Clark made her feel… what exactly?

Lois?

Alive? Loved? Cherished? So, Clark wasn’t perfect. She hadn’t yet met a man who was.

Lois? Did you hear that?

True, Clark lied to her, but Lois was starting to think that was a given in any relationship she got herself entangled with.

Lois! Someone just mentioned WandaMae.

~WandaMae is a character from our dream-life, Clark,~ she reminded him. ~She’s not real.~

Then why did I hear some men talking about her?

~Hmmmm,~ Lois replied, not really paying him any heed.

Lois, they’re talking about you, now.

~So.~

It was kind of nice having Clark in her life. She always had someone to talk to, joke with, and if he was indeed real…

Lois, pay attention! Could you please look up, so I can see the men discussing you? They just said you were engaged to a powerful man.

~Then they aren’t talking about me, are they?~

She’d miss him, if she let him go. Lois sighed. But if she didn’t, how was she ever going to leave this place?

“I don’t know why anyone would want to escape,” she could hear a man saying. “The therapists are friendly, the sheets soft, and the food quite delicious, but then again, I don’t live on the evil side.”

~Clark, I don’t want to listen in on other people’s conversations. Stop it.~

Of course, the man had a point. She could just remain here.

You’ve got to be kidding!

~You’re right, Clark. The therapists are psychotic, the sheets scratchy, and the food horrible.~

“I’m Batman.”

~And they think I’m crazy,~ Lois told Clark. ~Hey, you ever met the Caped Crusader? I hear he’s intense.~

Focus, Lois.

“H.G. Wells.”

What?

~What?~

“Not the H.G. Wells.”

~No, we couldn’t have that kind of luck, or should I say, we do have that kind of luck. H.G. Wells finally comes to rescue us and he’s locked up inside the same mental institution as me.~

Lois, look up for goodness sake, make eye contact with him at least; he’s going to think you’re mentally unbalanced otherwise.

~Well, he’d probably be…~

Lois!

With a sigh, Lois rolled her eyes up from where she was staring at the floor. ~Fine.~ Her eyes blinked and she focused on the other side of the room. There was a short man with a mustache and spectacles. ~Hey, he looks just like…~ Lois was on her feet and at the glass wall, two seconds later. “Wells!” she called, but her voice made hardly a noise from lack of use. She cleared her throat. “Wells!” She started knocking on the glass wall.

The man was passing through the door with one of the women from admitting.

Oh, God! You’re going to miss him.

Lois turned around and picked up the folding chair she had been sitting on and swung it at the glass wall. “Wells!” she yelled.

She saw him turn, but the woman he was with closed the door before he could see into the room.

“No!” Lois screamed, hitting the window again. “Wells!”

Suddenly, three orderlies had her. One took the chair out of her hands, the other two held her arms. There was a smash and another chair hit the glass wall and bounced back into the ‘restricted’ section of the room, and then another.

“Let go of me,” she hollered, trying to pull herself free.

The other inmates of the restrictive section continued to bombard the thick glass walls with chairs and easels, trying to break through. An alarm sounded and more orderlies arrived to help calm the ensuing chaos. The two guards who had her arms started dragging her towards the exit. When they got to the door, Lois climbed up the wall with her feet doing a back flip over the shoulders of the men who held her. This motion caused the two men to swing towards one another and bash heads. It was enough of a distraction for Lois to squirm out of their grip and out the door.

Lois ran down the hall and then another, searching for a way out. She hadn’t been down this hall before. She heard footsteps behind her. She grabbed the knob on the closest door to her, thankfully it turned, and she ducked inside the room. She turned around and realized she was in some sort of hospital ward with rows of patients in beds.

None of the people glanced up at her entrance. The nurses were all absorbed in a security monitor showing the fight in the Day Room. The patients were all either sleeping or staring off into space. It was eerie how her presence went unnoticed – almost as if she wasn’t really there at all.

Half-way down the ward, she saw a woman with dark hair falling about her chin, cut into the same style as Lois’. Both of her wrists were bandaged as if she had cut them in a suicide attempt. Was this the woman about whom Dr. Carlin had gotten the emergency call during their session the previous day? Was this why Arianna refused to tell Lois how the woman had hurt herself, because she had been able to access something able to slice her wrists? The woman had a lost expression that reminded Lois of her own before Clark had snapped her out of her self-pity. Maybe that was why the woman reminded her of herself.

A chill made her hairs stand on end. No, it was more than that. That woman looked exactly like her! Lois gulped. Was that her? Was she only dreaming, fantasizing about escaping? Had she fallen so deeply into her delusion that she didn’t know reality from her dream-world any longer? Whatever the reason, Lois didn’t want to be in this room any longer. She backed up and felt the doorknob hit her in the center of her back; she turned it and bolted from the room.

Lois ran back down the hallway and came to the door leading to the offices where Dr. Carlin had held her therapy sessions. As she got close, she heard the secure door unlatch and start to open. She leaned up against the wall next to the door as Arianna and two other people in white doctor jackets exited the hall and ran towards the Day Room. As the last one passed through, Lois jutted out her hand and caught the door before it closed. She slipped down the secure hall and started checking doors.

The first door on the left had been the therapy room where she had talked with the ex-Mrs. Luthor; she skipped that one. If Wells existed, then it proved Clark’s story as true and she might as well accept the truth: Dr. Arianna Carlin was the ex-wife of Lex Luthor.

The first four doors were locked. Maybe they were only therapy rooms with patients currently held in lockdown, while their doctors were dealing with the mess in the Day Room. She finally came to an unlocked door. It was a doctor’s office, but one cursory glance told Lois she would never get out from that room – it had no window.

Lois tried the next room and found the same problem. Instead of trying the next door, she skipped all the doors until she reached the end of the hall. There was a large window there, and she could see the fire escape outside. Just as she went to try to open the window, she heard a sound and realized someone was coming. She ducked inside the last office on the hall and closed the door behind her.

As she leaned against the door attempting to catch her breath, she looked around her new hiding spot, searching for a way out. She saw lots of books on bookshelves, a computer, a telephone. Oooh. She could call Perry.

And say what exactly?

No, scratch that idea. She saw a door in the wall behind the desk. Figuring it was a personal bathroom, where she might be able to find a change of clothes, Lois opened the door.

On the other side of the door was a long hall.

A back exit perhaps, suggested Clark.

~Perhaps,~ Lois agreed, quickly darting down the hall. There were three doors on the hall. The first was to the restroom. She closed it as soon as she opened it. The second was locked. The third was also locked. ~Damn!~

Lois returned to the office and started checking the desk for anything. In one drawer, she found a pens, pencils, paperclips, tacks, pair of scissors, and other office supplies. In another, blank papers, folders, and envelopes. The last drawer was locked. Could she use a paperclip to get that locked drawer open? What was in there worth securing, she wondered. Did it merit her time and effort to find out?

Her mind returned to that woman who looked like her in the hospital ward. It had been spooky how nobody had noticed her enter that room, like she wasn’t even there, like she had been a mirage or a dream or something.

It was someone who looked like you, Lois, but she wasn’t you, Clark reassured her.

Lois would make sure no one made the mistake of confusing the two of them. She grabbed the scissors and a lock of her hair. A few snips later, her shoulder length bob was now up to her ears. She probably looked a wreck, but maybe being unrecognizable as herself would buy her more time to escape. Now, she only needed a change of clothes.

Lois, what are you doing? Wells will end up taking the wrong you back in time to save me if he doesn’t recognize you.

She looked down at the clumps of hair in her hands and dumped them in the waste paper basket. “Nothing I can do about that now,” she muttered.

Lois took the scissors and dug one of the blades into the lock on the desk, popping it open. Inside she found a large ring of keys. She dropped the scissors, grabbed the ring, and returned to the secret hallway. She tried the middle door, first with one key and then another and another and another. Finally, she found one that fit. She turned the lock and opened the door.

On the other side of the door she found an apartment. Did one of the doctors live in-house? She looked around the ornately furnished living room, still searching for an exit. Running to the windows, she noticed they were all barred.

“You’re not going to find a way out,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Lois spun around and found herself facing Lex Luthor.

Luthor?

“Lex?!” she sputtered.

“Lois! Darling, is that you?” A genuine smile spread across his face. Lex was dressed casually in slacks and a button down Oxford, no tie. “I hardly would have recognized you.”

She passed one hand uneasily over her unwashed, newly cut hair as the other tugged down the hem of the hospital gown. She took a step back for every one of his steps forward, but he still caught her and pulled her into a friendly embrace.

“Ari said that she had convinced you to join us.”

“You’re dead,” she finally exclaimed.

Lex chuckled. “Well, no.” He took her arm and led her over to the sofa to sit down. “Funny story actually…”

“What? Gretchen Kelly gave you a new heart and a blood transplant and somehow miraculously you’re alive again?” she scoffed, scooting further away from him.

“If Gretchen ever reanimated that body, which was stolen from the morgue, she’d have been in for a rude awakening. You see, I wasn’t with you the night you got caught by the terrorists at Daily Planet. That wasn’t me.”

Lois’ eyes opened wide. “Not you?”

“No, not me,” he said with his charming smile that now reminded her of fish oil. He leaned closer and whispered, “That was my clone; an expensive bit of science that, only to have it die prematurely and force me into hiding. Shame.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“Clone?” Lois echoed.

Of course, it makes total sense. Without me in this world, Luthor had himself cloned instead.

Her lips pressed into a line. “You sent a clone on a date with me?”

That would explain why Arianna said that the man who had died at the Planet wasn’t her husband, why he was only an acquaintance she had met on a few occasions. He was the clone! She wasn’t lying! I wonder if that nose-diving Luthor was also a clone.

“You sent a clone on a date with me?” Lois roared, standing back up. “This whole time I thought you liked me and the first chance you got you set me up with your second string replacement?”

Lois, priorities. Dead man back from the dead. Ex-wife trying to kill you. Exact double of you in another room. Time running out.

“All this time, I thought you loved me!” she said, continuing her rant.

“I do love you, Lois,” Lex said calmly. He shrugged. “It was Madame Butterfly. It wasn’t as if we were going to do much talking. He needed some more real world experience and I had a standing date with Ari. We always get together on our anniversary…” He grinned.

“More experience?” Lois repeated in a huff. “You sent him on dates with me before? Is that why he told me he loved me? Or was that something you taught him as well?”

Lex stood up and crossed to her, setting his hands on her shoulders. “Lois, darling, I admit in the past I stretched myself a bit thin, but that has all changed. I’m a new man.”

She knocked his hands off her shoulders. “Don’t touch me!”

His charming smile grew. “Ah, that fire. How I’ve missed that fire. You… you are irreplaceable.” He sighed. “A one of a kind.”

Not available. Lois, time to go!

Lois nodded and she turned to go out the front door, but then paused as Lex took hold of her arm.

“Not yet, Lois,” he requested in a firmer tone. It wasn’t quite a command, but it wasn’t as nice as a suggestion either.

“I’ve got to go. They’re looking for me,” she said, realizing she was stating the obvious.

Lex didn’t let go of her arm, actually his grip tightened as his other hand removed the key ring from her fingers. “I’ll be holding on to these,” he said, and slipped the key ring into the pocket of his slacks. “Come. Sit down. Relax. Would you like…” His eyes looked down her body and then back up again. “… to freshen up?”

Lois wanted to, but not within a mile of this man. The creepy fingers of dread danced across her shoulders. “I should go,” she repeated, pulling on her arm to free herself.

“Where are you going to go, Lois?” He sat back down. “Now that I’ve got the keys; you’ll need them to open any doors.”

Lo-is! Bad guys with Tasers hunting you down. Keys or not, time to escape, honey.

~Right!~ Lois turned back to the door.

Two steps later, Lex’s words made her hesitate. “As I said before, there isn’t a way out. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Go!

***

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lois ran out the door of Lex’s apartment and back into the hallway. There were still only the four doors. The bathroom, the apartment, the locked door, and the door that led back into the office. Arianna’s office, Lois presumed. She chose door number four: anywhere that Lex wasn’t.

She found Arianna’s suit jacket hanging on a hook behind the office door that led back to the hall with the therapy rooms. Lois slipped the jacket on. Anything was better than this nightgown. She opened the door a crack and heard feet running and voices calling to one another. They knew she was here. She was trapped.

Lois went back out the door to the hallway that led to Lex’s apartment. She tried the third door again; it was still bolted tight. She heard the jingling of keys.

“You’ll need these I’m afraid, Lois,” Lex said, leaning against the doorframe to his apartment, rattling the keys.

She dived to grab them from his hand, but he held them outside of her reach.

“Uh-uh-uh,” Lex replied with a patronizing shake of his head, and returned to the apartment. “Come with me and you’ll be safe from the bullies with the Tasers.”

Lois heard voices from Arianna’s office. It was only a matter of moments before they opened that door and found her. Having no other choice, she followed Lex, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Her breath was ragged, more from fear than physical exertion. She didn’t want to go back to her cell.

This is the lesser of two evils, Lois?

~Clearly not!~ Lois snapped back at Clark. She really didn’t have much of a choice. Anyway, she had too many questions, yet unanswered. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he replied simply, sitting back down on the sofa.

“Live here?” she echoed. Who would want to live in a mental institution? “Why?”

“Ari and I had almost finished building the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable prior to my untimely death by terrorists. I needed a place to lay low until I could figure out a way of not being dead, and Ari suggested these apartments,” Lex explained. “No one knew that they’re here or that they lead to and from the mental institution and the building next door. It’s the perfect hideout really. Then, when my body was stolen from the morgue, it was the ideal time to make my reemergence into Metropolis.”

“So, you didn’t steal your body to stage a comeback?” Lois inquired.

“Brilliant that, but alas not. I can only assume, like you did, that Gretchen with her unhealthy attachment to…” He smiled indulgently. “… my body, was the responsible party.”

Lois shivered at that disgusting thought.

“Cold, my dear?” Lex asked, standing. “I do like that jacket, but that nightgown leaves something to be desired.” His teeth showed with his bad joke. He opened a door on the other side of the room. “Your bedroom.”

“Excuse me?” she gulped.

“There is a bathroom and a closet full of clothes in your size. You’ll be most comfortable,” he explained. The lip above those teeth sneered upwards. “I won’t peek.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him.

~Neither do I,~ Lois thought, continuing to lean against the front door to the apartment and keeping her gaze focused on the recently dead man.

“Lois,” drawled Lex, that indulgent tone returning. “Did you think that Ari would bring you here only to leave you with those people? You aren’t crazy, headstrong maybe, but certainly not insane.”

~Really not feeling the sanity at the moment.~ Lois decided it was time to test her voice again. “Why would she do that? Arianna’s in love with you.”

Lex shrugged. “True.” He sighed with pity as if he knew that anyone foolish enough to love him wasn’t worth his love in return. “Physical intimacy isn’t high on her list, though. She’s more of the lie there and take it type.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Some childhood trauma or whatnot. Extremely boring, if you ask me. It’s actually why we divorced. I felt it was better for her to have her freedom.” Then he chuckled as if it had been a lie for his wife’s benefit. “She didn’t want the divorce and said she’d do anything for me.” He indicated the door to Lois’ bedroom again. “She thinks it’s better for me to get my carnal pleasures elsewhere as long as I keep my friendship with her.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

Lois gulped, neither did she. “So, you and Arianna aren’t divorced?”

“Oh, yes. The divorce was finalized,” Lex said, turning to a side table with decanters of liquor and pouring himself a glass of some amber liquid. He must have seen her eye the decanters. “Don’t get any ideas, Lois. They’re plastic.” He tapped the decanter against the table to prove his point. “At first, Ari was afraid I might try to hurt myself or her with broken glass.” He laughed, pointing over his shoulder at the windows Lois had first looked out upon entering the apartment. “Unbreakable glass as well. Trust me, I’ve tried. Anyway, after the divorce I moved on with my life, built up LexCorp and my billions. Of course, as my founding partner of LexCorp, Ari did well for herself, but she refused to be ignored and was almost impossible to satisfy. We settled on a compromise; I would play husband once a month, meeting her for dinner and conversation…” Lex yawned, took a sip of his drink, and shrugged. Then he shot Lois a wolfish grin. “And once a year, on our anniversary, I get my way with her.”

Lois cleared her throat. “Why not just have her killed and be done with the whole charade?”

Lois!

~It’s a fair question, Clark. We both know killing isn’t above his abilities. He was ‘The Boss’ after all~ she retorted.

This isn’t an interview. This is your life.

“Frankly, the challenge more than makes up for the inconvenience,” Lex replied, setting down his drink and crossing to her at the front door. He ran a finger down her jaw. “I hope you won’t mind sharing. It’s only once a year, my dear.” His eyes flashed with an idea. “Unless…”

Lois’ knee flew upwards, making contact with Lex’s crotch as the heel of her hand hit his jaw. “Not in this lifetime.”

Not in any lifetime.

Lex staggered backwards, but he didn’t let the blows floor him.

“Give me the keys!” she demanded, taking a step towards him.

When he spoke, Lex gasped, “Yes, a fiery volcano.” He sounded pleased. “I knew there was an inferno behind those demure little suits and innocent doe eyes. I’m glad to see I wasn’t wrong.” He licked his lips in anticipation and then coughed as he straightened up. “I’ve hidden the keys, Lois. No amount of searching will find them.” To show her the truth of that statement, he pulled out his empty pockets. “I’m a patient man, Lois. We won’t tango until you’re ready, but what a tango it will be.” He held out his hand towards the bedroom again. “Really, Lois, I won’t peek. I’m not that kind of man.”

Uh-huh.

“Mind if I don’t believe you, Lex?” Lois replied, returning to her spot against the door. “So, go on with your story. You never explained why you never reappeared as the great Phoenix.”

Lex took a gulp of his drink and sat gingerly down on the sofa again. “Arianna.” He chuckled in admiration. “I became her prisoner.”

The decanter story. The comment about the window and doors.

The grand Lex Luthor, “The Boss”, taken down by his ex-wife. Despite herself, Lois’ esteem of Arianna Carlin rose, and a hesitant smile brushed her lips. “You’ve been stuck here all this time?”

He shrugged. “It isn’t so bad. I have a personal chef and maid service. Any number of female companions, whenever I require, to do with whatever I please. True, most of my billions got distributed to those charities in my will, and the rest went into Ari’s trust. As founding partner of LexCorp, she inherited control of that as well, but she turned that over to me in time to give me something to do during the day. Of course, I delegate, not being able to leave my rooms, but…” He raised his glass in a toast. “… there’s compromise in every relationship.”

Something was wrong, off in his version of the truth. If he were truly her prisoner he would have taken his opportunity to escape when Lois barged into his rooms with the keys. “You’re not really her prisoner, are you?”

Lex smiled proudly. “Astute.” He winked. “Not for quite some time, but I see no reason to go about in society anymore, making nice, playing gentleman businessman. Now, that I have you, my life is complete.”

Lois rolled her eyes at that statement. “So you just gave up the power being ‘The Boss’ gave you?”

“Did I?” he asked innocently, taking another sip of his drink.

She frowned as the final puzzle piece fell into place. “You had Toni Taylor killed, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “She had been warned not to talk.”

“What did it matter that she ruined your reputation? You’re dead! Are you going to kill me too because I’m the one who revealed your secrets to the world at large?”

Don’t taunt the megalomaniac, Lois.

~Please, Clark. He’s not into necrophilia. He wants me alive and fighting.~

“I expected as much from you, Lois. Actually, I’m disappointed that it took you this long to see the real me,” he replied, resting his jaw on his hand. “Now, that you know the truth about me, it should make our relationship more exciting.”

“We don’t have a relationship,” she reminded him.

“I love you, Lois,” he said with a long desirous sigh, his fingers trailing across his lips as his eyes once more violated her body with its caress.

“Then you’re going to be disappointed, Lex, because I’ll never love you and this…” She pointed down to the body he was ogling. “…will never be yours.”

“Never say never, darling.” He held out his hand to the bedroom. “Please, go clean up and change, Lois. Relax. You’ve had a hard couple of days, I’m sure with Ari playing with your mind.”

She still didn’t move.

“Unless you prefer wearing those rags,” he challenged, and then turned on the familiar charm. “Please, Lois, join me for dinner, whatever you want to eat. No ulterior motive, I promise. I’ll even take you to the symphony. Being head of Luthor Foundation for the Arts does have some perks. I won’t make any passes. Just two old friends getting reacquainted. The bedroom and bathroom doors have locks, I won’t come in, promise.” He held up his hands in a gesture of goodwill. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Lois pressed her mouth into a line. “With or without the clone?”

“Touché, my dear.”

“Am I free to leave?” she challenged, her brow raised, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not. This is your home now unless you want to return to your cell, where your entire life is watched, your food chosen for you, no entertainment, mandatory therapy sessions with Ari, and the only company you have are the mentally disturbed. You’d be insane yourself within a week.”

Choose the cell, Lois.

~Even if I chose the cell, Clark, he wouldn’t let me go. It’s just a control play; he wants me to believe I have some. We just have to bide our time, until we can find the keys or possibly somehow get away at the symphony.~

Lois, you don’t really believe that he’d show his face at the symphony, do you?

~We’ll have to see about that, Clark.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, finally pushing herself off the door and walking into the bedroom that he indicated.

***

With Clark’s expertise to guide her, Lois had looked in every conceivable place for microphones and hidden cameras. Finding none, she took a shower. The shampoo and conditioner were the same brand she used at home, as were the make-up and toiletries in the medicine cabinet. If Lois hadn’t known that the quantities were different, she might have assumed that they were the same, because they were hers and she had bought them.

It had felt good to shower, normal. She had let the hot water run down her back and the stress of the day flowed down the drain. It helped that Clark rambled on with funny stories from his travels and his life, distracting her from thinking about what Lex wanted or expected from her. Being with Clark was more intimate than she had ever allowed herself to be before. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t have a private thought to herself; she felt comfortable with him in a way she never had with a real living, breathing person. She wondered if she would feel as at home with him, if he were actually in the room, instead of just in her head.

Lois couldn’t believe she had considered sending the man away. Now, that she had let the anger from the last twenty-four hours ebb away, she realized her love for Clark had returned stronger than ever. He had been hurt by her rejection, by her lack of trust in him, but like a chocolate stain Clark would not go away; he was always there to remind her of the wonderful time they had together.

The clothes in the closet also gave her a bizarre sense of déjà vu… like hers, but not. Lois picked out a modest maroon gown for her and Lex’s ‘evening out’, but once she had it on, Clark bashfully told her that he had always liked her in that color. She switched to basic black in case the maroon did make her look better; she didn’t want to impress Lex. This wasn’t a date. She was this man’s guest, his captive, but she wasn’t planning on letting him get the upper hand. Plus the black dress had a nice slit up the side to free her legs for defensive action, should it be required.

Dinner had been an intimate affair and reminded her of that first supper she and Lex had shared, when she was supposed to be interviewing him for the Daily Planet. Lex had tried to flatter her, ply her with his charm, only this time she had the good sense not to believe any of it. Clark was largely quiet, whispering suggestions in her ear only on those few occasions when she seemed to have been lacking a sharp barb.

Lois heard a ding of a mantel clock announcing the three-quarter hour and Lex stood up.

“Shall we go?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

She looked at his hand, then blatantly ignored it as she rose to her own feet. “Is it supposed to be warm tonight?” Lois inquired. “Or will I require a wrap?”

“Darling, you will never be cold again,” he replied cryptically, and motioned for her to follow. He led her down a hall off the living room and opened a door. He waited, expecting her to enter first.

Lois peered inside, not wanting to enter a room without knowing if it was floorless with a crocodile pit at the bottom or just a room. She saw it was a home theatre with navy draped walls and comfortable, better than movie theatre seats – a grand total of eight of them.

“Our own Luthor Conservatory of Music,” he announced.

Her brow furrowed as she entered the room. “Is the symphony coming here?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. “Come, let’s take our seats.”

“Why did we get dressed up, if we aren’t leaving the apartment?”

Lex smiled indulgently. “Because it’s much better to be dressed up. It helps with the ambiance.”

Okay-dokey. It’s official. Lex Luthor has fallen off his rocker.

Lois hid her agreeing smile as she sat down.

Lex sat down opposite her and picked up a large remote control. One button opened the curtain on the stage, revealing not a wide-screen television, but a small movie theatre type screen.

“I’ve never pictured you as the movie buff, Lex,” Lois teased him.

“I’m not,” he responded, pressing another button. The lights dimmed. He pressed another couple of buttons and a picture and sound appeared. It was as if they were actually there at the Luthor Conservatory of Music. She could hear people talking as they took their seats. The picture was focused on the stage.

“Is this a live link?” she asked, perplexed. “Or pre-recorded?”

“Live,” Lex whispered, leaning towards her, as if they were actually there in Lex’s private box, instead of on the other side of town. “Being the chairman of the Luthor Foundation for the Arts does have its little perks.”

Lois stared at the man. “When you say you never leave the apartment, do you really mean ‘never’?”

“Lois, I have a world class chef. I have my office with all necessary equipment to run my company. I can watch any show, concert, or opera in Metropolis in my very own theatre,” Lex explained, indicating the screen. “I no longer have to make small talk with small people, sit through tedious business meetings that accomplish nothing, and pretend to be someone I’m not. This is the most free I’ve ever been, and now I have you to share it with. Why would we ever want to leave?”

“What if I want to go for a walk in the park?” she questioned.

“The exercise room has a treadmill with a large view screen. There are a thousand preprogrammed walks, mocking the conditions at national parks all over the states. Scents are pumped in from our greenhouse…”

“You have a greenhouse?” Lois interrupted. A greenhouse meant sunlight, fresh air, and windows, lots of lots of windows.

“Of course. I grow my orchids there,” he responded naturally.

“Lex, I can’t live like this,” she said, trying to communicate with his logical side. “I’m a people person, a reporter. I need to talk to people, have discussions, visit new places, experience life, not watch it on television.” She flipped her hand at the screen.

“You’ll adapt. As my wife, you’d have given up your career anyway,” he replied.

Maybe Arianna was right to lock him up in a mental institution.

Lois’ eyes widened. There would be no communicating with this man.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed and the concert started. Lex seemed absorbed in the music, but she felt nothing but bored. After what felt like hours, but probably was a much shorter time, Lois felt her eyes grow heavy with sleep.

Lois, why don’t you get up, move around, search for the keys. Tell him you need to use the restroom.

She agreed; sitting and waiting for this farce to be over, so that they could head to their respective bedrooms would take too long. She stood up.

“Where are you going?” Lex hissed. “You’ll disturb the orchestra.”

“I’m tired, Lex; it’s been a long couple of days. I’m returning to my room,” she replied, heading for the door.

“I’ll accompany you,” he insisted.

“No!” Lois exclaimed in horror, and then calmed her voice. “Finish the concert, Lex. As you said, there’s no escape. Where else could I go?”

Lex nodded in agreement and sat back down.

She exhaled in relief and returned out to the living room. There hadn’t been much time between when he had jingled the keys at her and when she had re-entered the apartment. He must have hidden them somewhere in that room.

After a half-hour and a fruitless search later, Lois walked over to the large barred picture windows. It was starting to rain, and she could see the water splatter onto the glass. Would she ever feel the surprise or enjoyment of being caught in a rain shower again?

Go to bed. Get some rest, Lois. Wake up early and try searching the other rooms, while Luthor is asleep.

Lois nodded in agreement.

***

An echoing scream woke Lois up. It almost surprised her how heavily she had slept in these rooms. It was still dark outside, and she could hear the rain coming down in buckets, pelting her picture windows like a lover’s pebble. She sat up in bed and pulled her comforter up to her chest, her heart beating faster than a newborn’s. She listened in the silence, wondering if she had heard the scream in her dream or if it had been real. A roar of thunder made her start with its ferociousness. She wondered if that had been the noise that had awoken her.

~Clark?~

I’m here, Lois.

She was wide awake now and too terrified to shut her eyes again. Had the scream come from the mental institution or from within this very apartment? Had it been her own scream that had awaken her? Or had Lex brought some other victim in to give him pleasure while he pretended patience with her? She didn’t want to move, only feeling a bit reassured that she could lock her bedroom door from intruders.

After another minute of silence, then two, Lois took a deep breath and exhaled. She must have imagined it.

Suddenly, she heard someone bang open the front door to Lex’s apartment, then slam it shut.

“Lex! Lex!” she heard Dr. Carlin call to her ex-husband.

Lois heard another door slam and then Lex’s voice. “What is it, Ari?”

“Lois escaped!” Arianna yelled.

She gulped. Did Lex not inform his ex-wife about her new accommodations?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ari,” Lex’s voice chided her. “She’s asleep in her bed.”

Lois heard someone rattling her doorknob and was glad that she had triple checked that she had locked the door.

The door flew open. Lex and Arianna stood in silhouette outside the door. Lois could see a smaller ring of keys in Lex’s hand.

~He lied!~

Big surprise there.

“Not that Lois,” the doctor explained, flinging her hand towards Lois. “The other one.”

The other one?

~My clone?~ Lois guessed.

I doubt Arianna would spend the money it would take to clone you.

~Not clone. Facial reconstruction! The woman in the hospital. Me, but not me.~

Yep, a double.

“I told you not to call her Lois,” Lex scolded his ex-wife. “She isn’t Lois. She gave up too easily. Instead of fighting me, she turned the knife on herself.” His voice was full of derision. “Pitiful.”

“Well, then you’ll be happy to know she didn’t make it,” retorted Arianna, closing Lois’ bedroom door.

What?

Lois clambered out of bed and went to the door, opening it a crack.

Lex and Arianna were looking out the living room windows.

“Call the police,” Lex ordered.

“What?! Lex, no. They’ll crawl all over the place,” Arianna replied, her eyes wide with fear. “With the storm, no one will find it in Hobs Bay. It will get washed out to sea.”

“Call the police, Ari. They won’t find me. I’m safe,” he said, reassuring her and caressing her jaw with the palm of his hand. “Everyone knows this building is condemned. They won’t think to look for witnesses here.”

A fresh wave of chills shivered down Lois’ spine. ~Witnesses?~

Arianna wrapped an arm around Lex’s waist and hugged him. “If you think that’s for the best, darling,” she murmured, placated by a kiss from Lex to the top of her head. “You know better about these things.” The doctor nodded and left the apartment. Lois heard the distinctive sound of the door being locked.

Lex turned away from the window and, spotting Lois at her door, crossed over to her. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re safe. Nobody will come looking for you again. Go back to bed.” In Lois’ shock, Lex kissed her cheek unaccosted. “No need to worry your pretty head; we won’t be rushing into anything. We have all the time in the world now. Good night, my sweet. Oh, and don’t think about trying to signal the police, they won’t see you – the windows are tinted – and they won’t hear you over the storm,” he said with a Cheshire Cat sized grin and left the room, presumably to return to his.

Lois? Honey?

Lois felt frozen at the door, Lex’s words echoing in her head. ‘Nobody will come looking for you again.’ Had someone come looking for her? Someone other than Wells? Someone had come to visit Lois and had been shown her double instead. Who? Jimmy? She shook her head. Not Jimmy, someone with power, who insisted on seeing her. Perry?! Had he believed that the double was her? Why wouldn’t he come looking for her again? In the pit of her stomach she knew the answer, but needed to see it for herself. Slowly, she crossed the living room to the window out of which Lex and Arianna had looked.

Down on the pavement, between two dumpsters, lay a woman’s body in a hospital gown. The heavy rain pelted her and washed away the blood, pooling around her. Her unblinking eyes recognizable despite the petrified stare up at the heavens. Lois’ double.

Perry will remember that you told him Star’s prediction about the ex-wife killing you, only killing someone else instead. He’ll know the body isn’t yours.

“Will he?” she whispered. Or would she disappear into these rooms, never to be seen again, her screams for help going unheeded, in the shadow of the mental institution?

Don’t think that, Lois. Have hope, Clark’s voice caressed her, soothed her.

“What hope can I have?” she murmured. “As far as anyone will know, I’m dead. I’ll be locked in this prison with a mad man bent on breaking my soul.”

H.G. Wells! He’ll go back in time and save you.

Lois squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the image of the woman in the alley. “No, Clark, I don’t want that. You heard Star, if we go back, you’ll be lost. I can’t lose you. I love you.”

And I love you, Lois, Clark reassured her. With her eyes closed, Lois could almost feel him standing next to her, holding her in his arms. But I’m already lost. I’d rather have Wells fix the past to save you, than have this as your fate.

A sob broke from her chest. “Oh, Clark, no! I don’t want any life without you.”

Star said you’d still have me.

“No,” Lois corrected, her voice firm. “What Star predicted was that you would die and be replaced by a new Clark. I don’t want any other Clark. I want you, my Clark!”

I want you, too, honey, but Star said this new Clark would love you, treasure you, be there for you, and protect you. Sounds like a pretty upstanding guy to me.

“Well, I refuse to love him,” she insisted adamantly, turning away from the windows.

Lois tested the main door of the apartment, just in case, but it was securely locked. Then she took another look around the living room, trying to figure out where Lex could have hidden those keys. Wherever the hiding spot was didn’t matter anymore as Lois realized what he must have done. Lex probably took the keys from where he had hidden them and locked them in a safe in his office while she was in the shower. Stupid, stupid mistake; she should never have left the room after he had hidden the keys. She took one last look around the living room before returning to her new bedroom.

I’d much rather have you love another Clark than have you at the mercy of men like Luthor or Spencer or Sullivan.

“But he’ll be the wrong Clark, Clark. He won’t be you,” she repeated.

Well, nobody’s perfect, Clark teased.

Lois scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “You think you’re all that and a piece of cheese, do you, Flyboy? You better watch out, or I might end up falling for that wrong Clark fellow just to spite you.”

Really? Would you? As long as you don’t give him an easier time than you gave me.

“Oh, be careful what you wish for,” Lois retorted, shutting her bedroom door, locking it, and moving a chair under the doorknob. “I just might fall in love with him at first sight.”

Clark chuckled. And still be Lois Lane? Doubtful.

***

Epilogue

Meanwhile, in early 1997, in an alternative dimension…

H. G. Wells stood to the side of the front entrance to the Daily Planet, hoping not to bump into anyone who might remember him from when he and Lois had been stuck in this dimension by Tempus a year before. Well, nobody but Clark Kent himself. Wells still wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say to Clark.

He had told the man he would research what had happened to his Lois by traveling back in time to the 1993 Congo. He had found her all right, but she wasn’t what he or Clark expected; she was nothing like the Lois who this Clark had fallen in love with when she made him Superman. Plus, she was dead, very much dead. He gulped. Wells was not looking forward to that part of the conversation.

He unfolded the newspaper he had brought with him from that new dimension that after months of exploration he had discovered, the one without a Superman and, more importantly, without a Clark Kent. Below the fold, the headline announced “Lois Lane Dead in an Apparent Accident”. The article went on to report that Lois had been undercover at the Luthor House for the Mentally Unstable on an assignment regarding the treatment of the mentally ill. Wells’ own research, which he had done by going back in time to the previous day, concluded that the woman had indeed been institutionalized for mental problems.

According to the Daily Planet scuttlebutt, Lois had experienced a change in personality several days earlier after a confrontation with Patrick Sullivan, who had tried to kill her in some kind of ritual. That event was well known to Herb. Apparently, Lois had shown up at work the next day, talking to a man named Clark, whom only she could see or hear. At times, she would be talking to someone and all of a sudden go into a trancelike state where she could neither communicate nor be communicated with. After these spells, Lois would come to as if nothing had happened or, on occasion, be so disoriented she would claim events that hadn’t happened, had actually occurred.

Cat Grant had blamed it on pent up sexual frustration. Wally had said it was par for the course with Lane. Paulson had diagnosed post-traumatic stress. Perry White had said that Lois had just needed some rest and would be back after a few days of self-exploration. Only Jimmy had seemed really worried, especially after Lois had attacked Dr. Arianna Carlin, but he trusted the Chief’s judgment.

Without Perry at the helm of the Daily Planet, the man’s disappearance was a side-bar to Lois’ death announcement, some junior reporter or photographer must have given them another account of Lois’ actions. James Olsen had always been a good friend.

Wells tucked the newspaper back under his arm, wondering once more what he would tell Clark. They couldn’t bring the Lois Lane of this dimension forward in time. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Perhaps this other Lois would be the solution Clark craved, at least, for a little while. Wells had no idea how he would broach the idea with the man, since it was a course of last resort. He pulled out his pocket watch and wondered again where Clark could be. As he tucked his watch back into his vest pocket, said man walked out the front doors of the Daily Planet.

“Mr. Kent!” Herb said, just loud enough for the man’s super hearing to pick up.

The Man of Steel’s mind was obviously elsewhere. He carried a box in his arms and continued down the street as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Clark?” Wells said again, louder.

Clark stopped and turned around, his brow furrowed. Upon catching sight of Wells, his drawn face beamed with hope. “Mr. Wells!” he said. “You are a sight for sore eyes. Tell me your news.” He must have not wanted to have a conversation where they were, because he glanced around before quickly picking Wells up and zooming into the air.

Soon, the two men stepped off of the time machine and onto Clark’s roof. A short flight later, they walked into his apartment from the balcony. There were boxes sprinkled around the living room as if he had been packing.

Wells looked around in dismay. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

Clark shrugged, and then inquired with hopeful enthusiasm, “Back in time, I hope, or to the Congo? Did you find her?”

“Clark, let’s have a cup of tea. Tell me what’s new with you since we last spoke,” Wells suggested.

“Of course. I’m sorry,” apologized Clark, dropping his box of stuff next to his couch. “I know I shouldn’t have flown you like that, but there was a tabloid photographer across the street. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted overheard.”

Wells sat down at the dining table and waited while Clark busied himself with making the tea. He tried to work out what precisely he was going to tell Clark. What he knew for certain was that it wouldn’t be the complete truth.

“Please, Mr. Wells, the anticipation is killing me. Please, tell me about my Lois. When I didn’t hear from you for months, I feared the worst,” Clark said, setting the teapot and mugs on the table. He stood next to Wells, unable to sit down with nervous energy.

“Months? Oh, dear. When is it?” Wells asked, flustered. Had he messed up the date? That wasn’t like him. He liked to pop in and out of time at precisely the right time. It was that whole trip to the Congo and his explorations of the other dimensions after that, which had ruined his sense of timing. It had taken him months to find another solution to Clark’s dilemma. He was confident that if there was a dimension without a Lois, there must also be a dimension without a Clark. He felt as exhausted as Clark appeared. Wells hadn’t wanted to return to the man empty handed.

“February 1997,” Clark reminded him. “You left back in November of last year to look for my Lois, after we returned from the other dimension, the other Lois and Clark.”

“Terribly, sorry,” Wells apologized, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I have news,” he said, hoping that the tone of his words would convey that his news was not good. “Clark, please, sit down.”

Clark’s expression fell as he sat down and started pouring the tea. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is, my boy. I’m sorry.” Wells was glad that, at least, this news was over.

The man sighed, his shoulders falling and a wince crossing his face. He looked over to his windows and for a moment Wells thought Clark was listening to a call for help, but then he realized Clark was probably thinking about the other Lois, the one happily married, in Wells’ own dimension, to the other Clark.

“But dead isn’t dead when we have a time machine,” Clark said, his eyes wide with expectation. “We could always go back and save her, right, Mr. Wells?”

This time it was Wells’ turn to sigh. “I think it’s about time you call me Herb, Clark,” he suggested before he began to describe the details of Lois’ death to the young man, at least the details worth hearing, as well as the consequences of saving this Clark’s Lois from death. “And so you see, Clark, if we save her and leave her in the past, your whole future and that of the other Lois and Clark would surely change.”

“Then we shall have to bring her into the future,” Clark said with a determined nod.

Wells took another look around Clark’s apartment and the partially packed boxes. “Perhaps it would be a good time to tell me about this.” He didn’t think it was possible for the man to appear more dejected but Clark accomplished it.

“Superman has taken over my life,” the Man of Steel admitted sadly. “Everyone expects me to be on duty twenty-four, seven. I’ve had to give up being Clark Kent.” He looked around his apartment fondly with sorrow. “I can no longer have a private life. I tried, but they, the tabloid press, won’t leave me alone. I can’t talk to a woman, any woman, without her image and some false romantic story being splashed across the pages of a rag. Anyway, no one compares to Lois. Since meeting her, I can’t look at another woman that way. It’s like there’s her and only her.” He looked down to his hands, wrapped around his mug of tea.

“The press tracked down Lana and hounded her until she had to go into hiding,” Clark went on. “She’s had death threats from Superman fans who blame her for breaking my heart, even though that isn’t the story I told the world when they asked about the end of our engagement. Some criminals kidnapped her back in October, before you asked me to help with John Doe. They tried to use her to get me to do their bidding. Luckily, they weren’t real professionals, and I was able to rescue her easily, but that was the final straw. She sued me for revealing this side of myself to the world without telling her, my fiancée, first. She’s right, of course. I never took into account how this would negatively affect her life, if the news that Clark Kent is Superman ever made it out.”

Wells watched as the man’s demeanor changed as he told his story. His back rounded forward as if he had the weight of the world pressing down upon his shoulders.

“We settled out of court. I have no personal money anymore,” Clark scoffed as if he found his own words funny, as if they had meant that he had ever had any money. “You’re lucky you stopped by today. I haven’t worked for the Daily Planet in over a month now. I finally had a chance to stop by and pick up my stuff from my desk.” He nodded to the box he had set next to the couch. “I’m moving out of this apartment officially at the end of the month. The Superman Foundation has moved into offices at the top of one of the skyscrapers in town with a superhero discount. I guess the owner expects some kind of extra security having our offices there.” He sighed with a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s disappointed though; more than likely he’ll see more break-ins. I access the offices through the roof entrance. I have an apartment adjacent to the Superman Foundation offices, where I’ve been living; it’s no home, but at least it’s private. Between the paparazzi, criminals, and űber-fans, this apartment has been broken into almost weekly since Tempus outted me.” Clark glanced around his old apartment again. “I haven’t really lived here for months.”

“What happened to your job at the Daily Planet?” Herb asked as guilt tugged at his gut. It was his fault that Tempus had bothered this young man in the first place.

“I haven’t been able cover any stories but my own… you know, ‘Superman to the rescue’ stories. Anytime I went to a press conference, the focus of the conference would shift to me and I found questions being hurled at me. You do that to a politician a couple of times and egos get bruised; they refused to talk to me any more… at least, Clark Kent, reporter. Superman, they always have time for. Mayor White graciously always offered me an exclusive prior to any press conference he held, so that I wouldn’t have to attend. Eventually, others took notice, and when press releases and press conferences were issued they would include requests that Clark Kent not be assigned to the story. I was a distraction to their message. As a reporter, I was blacklisted from many of the major stories.”

“Oh, I see,” Herb said, taking a sip of his tea. Perhaps convincing this Clark against bringing his Lois into this future wouldn’t be as difficult as he imagined.

“I don’t blame Mr. Olsen or the paper, really I don’t,” Clark was quick to reassure Wells. “It’s more my fault than theirs; Mr. Olsen had bent over backward to try to accommodate me. With my office phone ringing more with people asking for Superman’s assistance than leads, I spent more of my time out of the office helping people than in the office writing about them. I felt bad taking a paycheck for the little I actually wrote. Mr. Olsen insisted, said I was good for the paper, but he was just being kind. I was just as much of a distraction there as everywhere, I guess. As I told Lois – that other Clark’s Lois – it’s easier to be Superman than it is to be Clark Kent.”

“Clark, what do you imagine your life or, for that matter, her life will be like if you bring your Lois into the present?”

A smile lit up the hero’s face and, for the first time, Wells saw a reflection of the Superman he had seen when the man had visited his dimension several months earlier, but then it faded. “She would be alive,” Clark said. “That will be enough for me.”

Wells raised an eyebrow. “Will it?” Clark shot him a severe expression, and the time-traveler hurried on to explain, “Lois will have jumped forward almost five years in her life. Life as she had known it will be gone. She’ll have no knowledge of current events. Her mentor, Perry White, is now gone from the Daily Planet. She’ll have no place to live and no family she can turn to… She’ll be adrift here, Clark. She’s a woman used to knowing everything, and she’ll be reduced to asking for help with every little thing in this age of technology. She’ll possibly need to partner up with someone just to write basic Metro stories.”

“Lois and Clark are partners,” Clark suggested with some hope.

“But you just told me that you aren’t a reporter anymore,” Wells reminded him gently. An idea flashed like an exploding photographer’s bulb in his mind.

Clark nodded. “Right.”

“Do you miss it? The thrill of the hunt? The pressure of deadlines? The scramble to be there first?” Herb inquired.

“As Superman I still have thrills, deadlines, and races to be there first,” Clark stated. He went quiet for minute, before admitting, “I miss it with every fiber of my being. I miss the respect my skills as a journalist had gotten me, the way I could spin a story, for being able to inspire people to action without the use of my abilities. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I can do as Superman, but it’s just that: what I can do. Superman really isn’t who I am.”

“And Lois? You would have to convince her to come with you, to come forward in time, possibly kidnap her and bring her here against her will to accomplish it. Is that what you really want to do? Otherwise you chance the whole world finding out about Superman and time-travel back in 1993, and inadvertently changing the future you hope to save by bringing her forward in time. Perhaps you would persuade her by telling her about her unavoidable death, but why would she believe you? Lois is a skeptical reporter by nature. It’s possible that Lois would write about her journey once she arrived here. If you had to kidnap her to save her, would you be willing to leave her alone, if she wished it? After the treatment your ex-girlfriend had with the press, would you be willing to cut off all contact with Lois for her safety? She doesn’t know you, Clark; you are a stranger to her. She may choose to live her life without any interaction with you. Would you be able to watch her love, and possibly marry, another man? So, I ask again, will her being alive here in 1997 be enough for you? Or will it cause you more pain than not?”

“Well, if you’re going to put it like that…” Clark chuckled for a moment before exhaling and standing up. “But what else can I do? I can’t leave her dead if there is any way to save her. I need her. I don’t know how much longer I can go on being this… this… shell of a man. My life is empty, and no amount of photo ops for charities and peace summits will fill it. I’ve always wanted what every man wants: a wife, a family, a home, stability. I feel like, in one foul swoop, Tempus erased my future.” Clark’s hands were in fists as he paced his living room in barely controlled frustration.

Wells turned to face him. “I truly am sorry, my boy,” he apologized with a frown.

Clark knocked the apology out of the air. “It’s not your fault.”

“Oh, but it is,” Wells corrected him. “I am the one who brought Tempus back from the future in the first place.” An expression of disbelief splashed across Clark’s features as the time-traveler launched into the tale of what had happened during his first journey into the future. “So, Clark, I’ve spent, off and on, the last…” Wells looked up to the ceiling in thought. “… almost eighteen years, trying to fix that one error…” He sighed. “… trying to keep Utopia as I had first seen it alive.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Clark tried to excuse his behavior.

“No, I didn’t know. I never thought how this one event would change history and that was my biggest failing. This is why I try not to alter history too much by my interference, but sometimes…” He glanced over at the younger man. “Sometimes interference can be a good thing.”

Clark nodded. “Like when we go back in time to save my Lois’ life.”

No, that hadn’t been what Wells had meant at all. He needed to get Clark’s mind off of his Lois and on to other possibilities. “Clark, how would you like to go on a holiday?”

The hero laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of joy, though. It was laughter at being caught by surprise, with a melancholy edge to it. “I would like that very much, but that’s impossible, Herb.”

Wells grinned with a wink. “I do dislike that word, Clark, as I find nothing is impossible. What I propose is that for…” He tossed up a hand and grabbed a number out of the air. “… three months, you come visit this new dimension I’ve discovered, where there is a Lois Lane in need of a hero.”

Clark’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head as if the suggestion was preposterous. “What? How? Huh? What about the Superman from her dimension?”

“From what I can ascertain, the Clark Kent – or shall I call him, the Kal-El – from this new dimension, didn’t survive the crash of his spaceship in 1966,” Wells explained.

The younger man’s jaw dropped open in shock, dismay, and then, as Wells’ words continued to filter through his mind, curiosity. “So, there’s no Superman? No Clark Kent?”

“No,” the older man reassured him. “None whatsoever.”

“Yet, there’s a Lois Lane?” Clark asked.

Wells nodded.

Clark seemed suspicious of older man’s motives. “Why should I rescue this Lois instead of my own? Why should we chance changing her timeline more than altering my own?”

“Because without a Superman, nearly the entire population of her world was destroyed, roughly a year or two ago. Altering the future of this dimension cannot do anything but good.”

“You want me to travel to this new dimension and stop this cataclysmic event from happening?” Clark pondered. “How is this a vacation again?”

Wells chuckled. “No, my boy, I meant a vacation from your dimension, your responsibilities here, being Superman all day, every day. I thought you’d like to travel back, say four years ago, and recreate your arrival into Metropolis, only this time, you would be free.”

“Free? How?” Clark seemed perplexed.

Wells would have to spell it out for him.

“Free of previous romantic entanglements…” In other unspoken words, free from Lana. “Free to choose when, and in what manner, Superman would make his debut…” Instead of letting Tempus do that for him. “Free to have a secret identity similar to that other Clark does…” The freedom to be himself and still be a reporter. “And free to try your hand at wooing a Ms. Lane without worrying that her heart already belonged to another Mr. Kent.” Free to love a Lois without all the complications that came with bringing his Lois forward in time.

Clark sat down on his sofa as he considered Herb’s vacation plan. “Why three months? Should I fall in love with this new Lois, I wouldn’t be able to leave her after three months to return here.”

“I would hate to leave your dimension without a Superman,” explained Wells.

“It is a real world, not some virtual fantasy world, right?” Clark inquired.

“Of course,” Herb reassured him.

“Then should I go to this new universe and become its Superman, how would I be able to leave it without a hero, especially knowing that sometime in its future some cataclysmic event will destroy its population?”

Wells didn’t have an answer. “Well… uh… um…” For some reason, he hadn’t thought of that possibility.

“I would have to choose then, in which world I would want to live,” Clark continued, speaking more his thoughts than to Wells directly. “I may choose never to return to this dimension, if that new Lois falls in love with me. I wouldn’t be able to abandon her.”

Herb gulped. He hadn’t meant to leave this dimension without a Superman either. He had thought that if she had been exposed to a real Clark, her mental breakdown would be curtailed, and she would be available to save her world from the flood. “But, say, in three months’ time, you realize that you and this new Lois don’t suit, I’d hate for your initial choice to be a permanent one.”

Clark pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. “If we don’t suit?” Obviously, the likelihood of this happening seemed slim to none for the man. He seemed to have fallen in love with the idea of this new Lois at first mention of her and the freedom he would have in her dimension.

“Perhaps you need a bit of time to think over your decision. A week, shall we say? At that time, you can give me your answer,” Wells said, standing up.

Clark nodded. “Yes, early March, after my birthday celebrations. Perry is throwing me a big party, and I’d hate to disappoint him.” He picked up the empty mugs from the table. “I will give you my answer, then. Either I will move to this new dimension, or we’ll work on a plan to rescue my Lois from the past and bring her into the future.” A frown crossed his face as he sighed. “Or I’ll have to accept the fact that, in this one instance, there’s nothing Superman should do to stop fate.” He shook his head. “I just can’t see how that could ever be the correct decision.”

***

Metropolis – March 1997

Clark knelt beside her grave. He came here often just to talk to her, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Since meeting and falling in love with Lois Lane – that Lois Lane who was tossed into his dimension by Tempus – he realized that there could be no Superman without her… some version of her. Sure, he could rescue people, stop the bad guys, and breathe in and out, but without a Lois Lane he felt empty inside, unable to truly live. Without a Lois, there was only this façade; there was no Clark Kent, no one who truly understood him. Without her love and support, he didn’t know how long he could keep up this life.

It troubled him that he was being selfish, that he would change this new Lois’ destiny because he needed her, that she wouldn’t get a choice in the matter… Not that she would choose the alternative.

True, he rescued people every day without this being a dilemma. He had even saved that other Lois before without this being a problem. This time it felt different. His motivation felt different. Even though he knew he was saving her so that her current fate would change, he was also saving her in hope that she then would save him from heartache. That was the selfish part.

If she knew why he was rescuing her, would she resent him? Would she think that he felt she owed him something? Would he ever be able to convince her that he would be happy just having her in the world? Breathing in. Breathing out. Knowing she was safe, hopefully happy. He would not expect anything nor should he. He would love her. He didn’t require that she return his love.

Actually, it would probably be better for her if she didn’t. Friendship would be nice though, having her available to talk with, to laugh at his jokes, pathetic as they might be, to challenge him. With Lois Lane in his world – or in this case, him in her world – he would be a better man… a better Superman.

Clark heard a sound behind him. Without turning his head from where it rested against Lois’ tombstone, above her empty grave, he knew H. G. Wells had arrived to take him on his journey.

“Are you sure about this, Clark?” H. G. Wells asked him and not for the first time.

“We’ve been over this, Herb. Lois needs me. Without my interfer… help, she won’t survive.” And without her neither would he. “I promised I would save her.”

“Lois is dead, Clark,” Wells reminded him. “The decision is yours and yours alone.”

Clark sighed.

“I know this was my idea, but now… I’m not sure,” Wells went on. “I hate leaving any dimension without a Superman.”

Clark nodded. He hated that too. “Isn’t that why you suggested this in the first place? So her world wouldn’t be without a Superman? If it doesn’t work, I can always return. At least, this new Lois will have a second chance at life.”

“I’ll come back in three months, Clark, in case you decide to return home.”

Clark took one last long look at the gravestone. He would miss her – his Lois. He didn’t want to leave her, but the other Lois needed him. He closed his eyes and pictured her in his mind. I will always love you, he told her, reassured her… reassured himself. He would never – could never forget her. This woman he had never met, never saved.

He stood up and picked up his suitcase. He glanced around this ‘world.’ He would miss this dimension. It was so different from the one where he was going. This was home. He sighed. “Let’s go,” he told H. G. Wells.

Clark was taking a huge risk. If this other Lois discovered his secret, she would have the power to destroy him. Unlike any bad guy he had met, this woman had that power over him. Should she choose to be, Lois could be more deadly to him than Kryptonite.

THE END of Book 1

Author’s Note: This story now travels back in time to 1993 in Book Two: Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark. Also, please check out the short story The Superman Effect for another one of your questions answered.

Gratitude: I would like to thank my three Betas for all their hard work in helping me write this dark, often depressing when not funny, tale. Thank you IolantheAlias, Mrs. Luthor, and Lola Dane. Without your constant feedback and support, we might never have gotten onto the lighter and funnier Book 2.

Disclaimers: Inspired by the characters created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series, developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. The characters do not belong to me; they belong to themselves (although Warner Bros, DC Comics, and the heirs to Siegel and Shuster might disagree). Many thanks to all the writers on the above-referenced show, especially Deborah Joy LeVine, Jack Weinstein, Lee Hutson, Bryce Zabel, Tony Blake, Paul Jackson, Dan Levine, Chris Ruppenthal, Grant Rosenberg, Robert Killebrew, Kathy McCormick, John McNamara, Eugenie Ross-Leming, Brad Buckner, Robert Singer, Dan Levine, Thania St. John, Bradley Moore, Paris Qualles, H. B Cobb, Gene Miller, Karen Kavner, and other scriptwriters from whom I quote directly from their scripts from Seasons 1 – 3. The story interweaved around their borrowed dialogue, and some plot points, is entirely my own.

Ben & Jerry’s is the name of an ice-cream company, manufactured in Vermont, and is known for their unique flavors and environmental causes.

Spider-Man and his Spidey-sense is a character created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko and owned by Marvel Comics.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a book by L. Frank Baum.

The Little House on the Prairie is a book by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Cat’s in the Cradle is a song written and performed by Harry Chapin.

Catch-22 is a book by Joseph Heller, published in 1961. The book was made into a film in 1970, screenplay by Buck Henry, directed by Mike Nichols, and staring Alan Arkin.

The whole mental institution, Lois going insane section, was inspired by Joss Whedon’s Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Season 6, episode “Normal Again” written by Diego Gutierrez.

The Whole Truth

By Sue S. <sistersuze@gmail.com>

Rated: PG13 (for some mild swearing and impure thoughts/actions)

Submitted: May, 2012

Summary: Linda King is back in Metropolis for the premiere of her movie. First in a series.

This story references the events of ‘The Rival’ from season one, but it takes place somewhere near the middle of season two.

Many thanks to BJ and Kate who smoothed off the edges for me. <mwah!>

***

“Clark? What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Clark looked up to find his partner standing in front of his desk running her fingers over the top of his computer monitor as if she were checking it for dust. The tone of her voice was just a shade too breezily casual to be a simple question. “Why?” he asked cautiously. “Are you still thinking about painting your kitchen?”

In truth, he would have happily painted her entire apartment just to be able to spend that much time with her, but he didn’t want her to know he was that big of a pushover.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “No, I still haven’t decided on a color.”

Clark sat back in his chair and tossed his pencil onto the desk. “So what is it you need done?”

“Done?” Lois looked like that question had stung her. “I don’t need anything done. Can’t I ask you to hang out with me without it being an imposition?”

It was his turn to feel bad. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing anything tomorrow night. What did you have in mind?”

“How would you like to go see a movie with me?”

In a heartbeat, Clark knew exactly which movie she had in mind. He couldn’t stop himself from making a face as he repeated, “Movie?”

His lack of enthusiasm was not lost on Lois. “Yeah,” she said brightly. “That movie. In fact, it’s the premiere. They sent me free tickets and arranged for a limo and everything. I wasn’t going to go until I heard that Linda isn’t playing me after all. Apparently she barely got a speaking role. I guess she’s one of the people in the elevator that Superman rescued. The thought of her humiliation is just too tempting to pass up. God, I hope she squirms.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Clark was already mentally squirming. “That movie about the Carpenter scandal comes out tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

Truth be told, both Superman and Clark had been invited to the premiere. He had turned down both invitations. Murray Brown had tried a couple of times to change Superman’s mind, but none of the rumors Clark had heard about the movie were the least bit promising. The story of Preston Carpenter’s attempt to create and control the news was one of those occasions when the truth was stranger than fiction. If the advance reviews were accurate- bad acting, terrible special effects and the insertion of a terrorist subplot involving the ambassador from Omir overshadowed any intrigue the movie might have had.

“They’re having the world premiere here in Metropolis,” Lois told him. “The advance reviews have all been lousy. It’s going to be a train wreck.” Her lips curved into a delighted smile. “It’s going to be Linda’s train wreck. Have you seen the trailers for it? They actually described that tramp as the ‘plucky journalist who risked her life for the truth’.

“And you want me along… why?”

Her smile turned into an impatient frown. “Because you were there. You know as well as I do that Linda barely risked her life at all.”

“That’s not entirely true. She went up against a powerful man at considerable risk to herself.”

“So did I!” Lois looked almost apoplectic. “I was almost suffocated in a freezer! Is it asking so much for my best friend to gloat with me when my frenemy’s vanity project blows up in her face?”

“Lois, you’re already gloating.”

“It doesn’t count unless I can gloat in front of Linda. So is that a ‘yes’?”

Clark inwardly sighed. “What time should I pick you up?”

“You shouldn’t, they’re sending a car for me. Be at my place by seven. Can you rent a tux?”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“You’re there to make me look good, Clark. Get a tux.”

“I thought I was there so you could gloat.”

“You can’t multi-task?” Her smile returned and she gave his shoulder a playful punch. “Thanks, Clark. I appreciate it.”

***

Promptly at seven, Clark knocked on Lois’ door and then put a nervous hand to his bow tie to check that it was on straight.

“Just a second,” Lois shouted from inside, her words punctuated by short little clip-clops as she ran closer to the door in high heels. He heard two of her locks slide free and then the door was wrenched open.

In an instant, all the air seemed to leave his lungs. Lois was wearing a pale lavender evening dress that clung to her body, accentuating each and every one of the curves that preoccupied most of his daydreams. The iridescent beading across the bodice seemed a valid excuse for his attention to linger a little longer there. He lifted his gaze to her face and his breath caught again. Tonight her hair was styled as a riot of curls that perfectly illustrated the sexy, uncontrolled vibe that Lois projected.

“What?” Lois put a worried hand to her hair. “Should I wear my hair up instead?”

Clark had to clear his throat to find his voice. “No. You look amazing.”

“I wonder what Linda’s wearing.” Lois stepped into the hallway and turned to lock her door.

“It won’t matter,” Clark assured her. “Every man there is going to be looking at you.”

For a fleeting moment her cheeks flushed, then Lois rolled her eyes at him. “Nice try, Kent. Let’s go.”

***

As it turned out, Linda was wearing a bright red dress with a neckline that plunged so deeply as to almost reveal her bellybutton.

“Would you look at that?” Lois muttered. “She never disappoints.”

Clark glanced at Lois in time to see her paste a hugely phony smile on her face. Her hand clutched his arm, pulling him along in her wake as she made her way across the lobby to Linda.

“Linda!” Lois chirped brightly. “That dress suits you. I haven’t seen anything like it since I did that story on drag queens.”

Linda’s answering smile was just as fake. “Oh hello, Lois. I didn’t see you at first. That color always washes you out, don’t you think?”

“It’s your night to shine — or whatever. After all, you co-wrote the movie and, I believe, you even got a small part in it. I wouldn’t want to steal your spotlight.”

“You’ve never stolen a thing from me yet.”

Lois let out a sound that was almost a snort. “You’ve never had anything worth stealing.”

“We should probably get in there before all the good seats are taken,” Clark interrupted. “Good luck tonight, Linda.”

Linda leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Clark. Always the gentleman, aren’t you?”

Lois glared at him as Linda walked away. “You should wipe that lipstick off your face before it leaves a scorch mark.”

Clark checked his reflection in one of the mirrored columns. Linda’s kiss had left a bright red mark on his cheek. He swiped at the lipstick but somehow only managed to smudge it. “It’s not like I asked her to kiss me,” he said defensively.

Lois’ thumb rubbed roughly over the spot Linda had kissed. “That is never coming off, Clark. I hope you’re happy.”

Usually having Lois touch him did make him happy, but in this instance he couldn’t work up much delight.

***

The movie was terrible. So terrible that the audience could only muster a few random claps as the credits rolled. Lois was out of her seat and headed for the exit before the lights came up. She moved past Linda, who was sitting with a frozen smile on her face, without saying a word. Clark was utterly baffled by Lois’ behavior. Her moment of triumph had arrived and she seemed determined to miss it. Instead of gloating at the after-party, she was headed for home.

In the back of the limo Clark tried several times to get Lois talking. He had expected to hear a cataloging of everything that the movie had got wrong. He brought up the fact that they had only been mentioned in passing. Their roles in uncovering Carpenter’s machinations had been left out of the movie entirely. Lois only shrugged.

Okay, so that wasn’t what was bothering her. Surely it wasn’t because of the scene where Superman rescued Linda from the Omiri embassy? That was pure fiction, just like the kiss between the painfully wooden actors playing Linda and Superman. He was almost insulted, but the situation — the whole movie, really — was so far from any kind of reality that he very much doubted anyone could believe it had actually happened. Clark was about to ask if that scene was what was bothering her but something in her posture made him hesitate.

“You don’t have to walk me up,” Lois told him when he followed her out of the limo at her apartment. “I’m sure they’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get another ride.” Clark rapped on the roof of the limo to signal it could leave. “Are you okay?”

“Not really. I have a massive headache all of a sudden. Good night, Clark.”

Clark stood on the sidewalk and watched her and that fantasy-inducing dress climb the stairs to her building. He stayed in that spot, listening to the soft swish of the fabric as she climbed the stairs inside. He heard her open her door, step inside, and kick off her shoes. Her footfalls were softer as she walked in the direction of her kitchen. There was the faint sound of her refrigerator door opening.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Lois whispered. She let out a sigh. “She made it up. She’s the biggest, fattest, trashiest liar in the world.” The refrigerator door slammed closed. “And he kissed her.”

Clark stared up at the window of her apartment as horrified dismay. Did Lois really believe that Superman had kissed Linda King? Surely she knew him better than that. In an instant, Clark had hurried into the alley and spun into the suit. It was only after he had rapped lightly on her window that common sense kicked in and told him that this might be a bad idea.

It was too late to change course now. Lois had opened the window and was stepping back to let him in.

“I didn’t see you at the premiere,” she told him, her voice just the slightest bit strained.

“I had a prior commitment.”

“You didn’t miss much.”

“I heard they took a lot of creative license.”

Lois didn’t answer. She just studied him as if she might suss out the truth about Linda King if she stared at him long enough. Her eyes narrowed and he wondered if he was being indicted for a crime he hadn’t committed.

“Is something wrong, Lois? You seem upset.” Clark hoped that would give her the opportunity to ask him about Linda and the kiss that had never happened.

She shrugged and looked away. The silence stretched out.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling awkward. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Clark had one foot on the windowsill when she called out, “Did you kiss Linda King?”

He shook his head and turned around again to face her. “That movie was a work of fiction, Lois. I never saved Linda from the Omiri ambassador and I certainly never kissed her.”

Lois continued to watch him closely. For a split second Clark panicked as he realized he had just given specifics about a movie he supposedly hadn’t seen. It appeared that Lois hadn’t noticed that slip, though, because her next question was, “You don’t have feelings for her?”

“I’m sure she’s a very nice person, but—”

“No.” Lois shook her head emphatically. “No, she’s not. She’s a terrible person. She throws herself at men all the time. Did she throw herself at you?”

Clark raised a silent eyebrow. Lois had thrown herself at Superman on more than one occasion but apparently the irony was lost on her. Also as apparent was the fact that watching Linda King and Superman kiss - however unrealistic — was tormenting her.

“No. But, even if she had, Linda is not my type.”

Lois stood up straighter. “What is your type?” she asked quietly.

Clark hesitated. There was a very clear line here and he was just as clearly about to cross it. “I think you already know.”

Lois’ jaw flexed stubbornly as she shook her head. “You’ve never said.”

Clark took a step closer to her, close enough now that they were almost touching. “If Superman could have a girlfriend, it would be you.”

He had expected that his confession would flatter and reassure her. Instead she regarded him with that same steady, somewhat skeptical gaze. “You can’t have a girlfriend?”

“And make you a target for anyone who wanted to use you to control me? I’d never do that to you, Lois.”

“Maybe I could be your secret girlfriend?”

Her question was more cool than flirtatious and that, as much as anything, was probably what made Clark lean closer and whisper, “Maybe you already are.”

Their new proximity had him breathlessly aware of her and that form-fitting dress. Maybe it had the same effect on her because she blinked and her mouth went slack. Her hand rose to touch his face, her eyes leaving his to track the movement of her fingers across his cheek. The sensation of that faint caress sent a heavy, hot pulse through his entire body.

Her eyes met his again, dark and full of pain. “It doesn’t feel like I’m your girlfriend.”

Clark leaned down and kissed her. He had meant the kiss as a way to soothe away the hurt and to show her that he cared. For a second or two he actually managed to convince himself that it was only a slightly-more-than-friendly kiss. Then her mouth opened beneath the pressure of his and her fingers slid into his hair and all his good intentions dissolved in the heat of their kiss. It was impossible to deny the attraction between them when Lois was meeting him kiss for kiss. This was wrong and it felt that much more exciting because of it. He’d never have this chance again and Clark didn’t want to squander it. The press of her soft curves against him and the sensation of her moans against his lips were building to something that neither of them could control.

Clark pulled away first, his breaths coming in pants. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” she asked breathlessly.

Her hair was a little more tousled now and her eyes had turned liquid with desire. Clark realized that if he touched her again now he wouldn’t stop. Not ever.

“Only because it’s going to hurt that I can’t kiss you like that again,” he admitted.

Lois licked her already-wet lips. “You could, you know. It’ll be our secret.” She stepped close against him, her hands sliding possessively over the S on his chest. At that moment Clark was willing to tell her just about anything if it meant he could kiss her again.

“Our secret…” he echoed, dazed at the thought that it might just be that simple. Oh, who was he kidding? She’d push him backwards out the window if she knew the truth.

“Just tell me one thing,” she whispered as her body swayed against him and her eyes looked deeply into his. “One thing and I swear I won’t ask you for anything else and I’ll never talk about it to anybody.”

His knees felt weak. Clark clenched his hands at his sides so that he wouldn’t touch her. “What?”

Her cheeks flushed, but Lois’ gaze didn’t waver. “Do you love me?”

He froze, calculating the risk of answering that question honestly.

“Tell me.” Her intelligent eyes seemed to be looking right into his soul. “Please, I want to hear you say it, just once.”

Clark still hesitated. She already knew the answer or she wouldn’t be asking him. What could it hurt to be honest with her? Just this once he could tell her a truth he had been aching to share for years without having to take it back later.

She gave him a smile that was dazzling in its sincerity. “I’m not asking you to tell me the whole truth.”

“The whole truth?”

She nodded, her expression serious. “I’m sure there are a lot of truths you could tell me. Tonight I only want to hear that one.”

Clark took a deep breath, steadying himself against the weight of the words he was about to say. He looked into her eyes, willing her to understand these were the truest words he’d ever tell her. “I love you.”

Lois shivered, her body brushing lightly against his. “Thank you,” she whispered and went on tiptoe to leave a light kiss on his jaw. Clark closed his eyes to memorize the sensation. “You know, if this were a movie, we’d make love tonight. One perfect, never-to-be-repeated night.”

His eyes shot open at the throaty-voiced suggestion she had just made. His hands automatically rose to her waist, trembling a little at the thought of making love to her. “This isn’t a movie.”

“No.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as she shook her head slightly.

“And there’s that whole truth I’d have to tell you first.” It suddenly felt very important that she know the truth — the whole truth.

“Is that what’s holding you back?” she asked softly, her eyes full of wonder. “The whole truth?”

He nodded. “That’s all that’s been holding me back for almost two years now.”

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “What if I already know the whole truth?”

“Lois, I—” he murmured but got no further when her finger touched his lips to silence him.

“Shh.” Her fingers moved, caressing softly over his cheek. “I told you that lipstick was never going to come off.”

THE END

The Way It Should Have Been

By stopquitdont@bellsouth.net

Rated: PG-13

Submitted June 2012

Summary: Regret can be a humbling emotion. After so many years apart, will Lois and Clark realize just what they’ve missed and set things to the way it should have been?

I have to say a very heartfelt thank you to Wanda D. for her story ‘New Beginnings’. It was the inspiration behind this venture. I wrote and asked her if she would mind me trying to write an L&C story similar to the G&L she’d written. Of course, as with all things, it took time to hash out. With final approval from Wanda, I think I have something worth reading.

Usual disclaimers apply. None of the characters belong to me.

Comments welcome.

***

Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he stared up at the screen. He loathed flying commercially, but waiting on a delayed flight made traveling this way even worse. A thick fog had set in over Metropolis, effectively grounding most flights for the time being. If it wasn’t for the fact that his flight had been booked for him, he would definitely provide his own transportation. He would never be able to explain why he hadn’t used the reservation.

He glanced out of the terminal window at the waiting planes that had already allowed their passengers aboard. Thankfully he wasn’t on his. At least out here, he could go down to the coffee shop and watch the sports reports on the evening news.

“Hey, stranger. How have you been?”

Clark froze. He instantly recognized that voice, even after all this time. He swallowed heavily, an attempt to calm the sudden beat of his heart, and then he turned to the small brunette he thought he would never see again. “Lois!” he breathed. It had been so long since he had last laid eyes on this small package of fire. Time had graced her well because she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

For a moment neither knew what to do- they simply looked at one another. Finally Clark smiled and said, “It’s really good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Lois answered him.

When she smiled back, he released the breath he had been holding. The one he had been holding for years. A moment later they stumbled their way through an awkward embrace.

Funny… Things had never been awkward between them before, until the end of course.

He closed his eyes at the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm him, his hands not quite able to open fully across her back. Finally she took pity on him and drew away.

“Are you leaving our fair city?” Lois asked him to break the silence.

“No. Assignment in Chicago. Perry has me covering the National Press Convention.”

“Yeah. I read something about that. I wasn’t surprised when I saw your first by-line on the front page of the Planet though. I always knew you had more to offer than sports scores.”

Clark felt his cheeks heat a little. He still had trouble with people complimenting his work. He had been a successful sports reporter until a year ago when he took a freelance position with the Daily Planet. It wasn’t long before he had made the move to Metropolis, mainly for personal reasons, and to take a full time position on the newsroom floor. Since his arrival, he had had several front-page stories and had won his first Kerth two months earlier. Clark Kent was well on his way to being one of the best investigative journalists in the country.

He finally recovered from Lois’ praise. “And you? Still bagging the big names?”

“Oh yeah. Signed Davis Decker last week. Kid’s going to be huge.” She looked around the crowded airport. “In fact, I’m here to pick up Farley Younce. But looks like his flight’s going to be late.”

“Younce? The tailback from Notre Dame?”

“That’s the one. Metropolis Tigers have an impressive offer on the table for him. If I can convince him he’ll like it here, we’re set.”

Clark chuckled softly. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

Lois let her smile drift into soft laughter. “I see you’re still just as quick as you always were.”

“I have to be.” They shared a laugh before Clark noticed the annoying flickering of the lights, reminding him he would be waiting another hour before his flight could take off. He glanced at Lois, wanting more than anything to ask her to have a drink with him. And painfully reminding himself that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

But that smile… That little, shy smile he had adored once called to him- the same way it always had. “Ah, I was going to grab some coffee. Want to join me?” He had had absolutely no intention of spending his wait with this woman, yet his big mouth opened before his good sense could stop it. And now that the offer was on the table, his polite manners wouldn’t allow him to take it back.

Lois looked up at him for a moment, eyes wide, as if she were studying his very soul. Finally she replied, “I’d like that. It’s going to be a while.”

Clark smiled, a bit of relief warring with trepidation washing over him. For a moment she had looked as if she would turn him down. For a second he had wanted her to.

And he had prayed she wouldn’t.

He waved his hand in invitation for her to walk with him to the coffee shop. Ten minutes later, they were settled and sipping their chosen selections.

“How… how is Taylor?” Clark ventured after a few moments, the question he had wanted to ask the second he had seen her. If he had one huge regret about leaving Metropolis before, Taylor was it.

“He’s great. Growing way too fast.” It was easy to see that the mention of her son was a favorite subject. Her eyes positively glowed with pride.

“I’ll bet.” Clark let his thoughts drift to the small boy he remembered. Where exactly had the time gone? Regret was suddenly filling his mind and soul. “He’s not a baby any more, huh?”

“Nope. Thinks he’s ‘the man’.”

“Ah… has his mother’s spirit.” He could easily picture a miniature ‘male’ Lois.

“And then some.” Lois sipped her coffee, then lowered the cup. When she spoke again, she kept her eyes on the mug. “He’s gotten all the cards and gifts.”

Regret hit him again. It had just been so much easier for him to take the coward’s way out and stay away. “I know he probably doesn’t remember me, but I just couldn’t let time slip by without remembering him,” Clark said, his voice soft, his expression sorrowful.

Lois looked back up at Clark. “You could have continued to see him.”

“Yeah.” He ran his finger around the rim of his cup, as memories of days gone by flooded his mind. The absolute last thing he could have done was continue to see Taylor. “I guess I didn’t want to be in the way,” he managed softly. And he didn’t want to endure the unbearable pain of another man taking up the role he had once played. “He and Dan needed the time to bond. If I’d stayed…” If he had stayed, he would have died inside watching another man be in the one place he would have given anything to be in. He blew out a long breath, as if that simple act could change things. “Look, it was a long time ago.” An excuse to make himself feel better— he always had an excuse in attempt to make himself feel better.

But it didn’t work. It never did when he thought about that time in his life.

“Yes, it was,” Lois commented with her head drooped over her coffee.

Something about the way she had said that made him take a closer look at the woman across from him. He immediately recognized the anguish written across her face.

Funny, he thought. Even after all this time, he could still read her expression. “What?” he asked, curious and genuinely concerned what could have possibly put such shadows behind her eyes. “What is it?”

Lois glanced up, then tucked her hair behind her ear. “Dan and I divorced a year ago.”

There was a time Clark would have shouted with joy to hear Lois state that she was free of that man. But now… now the woman before him looked very hurt over the fate that had befallen her. His nature wouldn’t allow him to rejoice in her misery. “Oh, Lois. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No. It’s okay. We actually attempted reconciliation recently. That hasn’t been very successful either.”

A part of his heart screamed in continued frustration because it was apparent that she really had cared about the man she had married. And the part of him that cared for this lady hated to see her in any kind of distress.

But that was another place… another time. Too many things had happened since then. And there was someone Clark was even more concerned about than Lois. “How’s Taylor? Is he handling that okay?”

Lois snorted at that statement. “Sorry.” Her head dropped and it appeared the Styrofoam cup in her hand was suddenly more interesting. Her finger circled the rim and she sighed heavily before she finally said, “Clark, Dan never did… bond with Taylor.”

For a moment he was too stunned to speak. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected her to say, but that wasn’t it. “What?”

“Oh, he tried. He really did. But in the end he said he just couldn’t be Daddy to another man’s kid.”

This time pure instinct took over, and he couldn’t help reaching over to lay his hand on Lois’. That statement, the look in her eyes— she looked so lost. She met his gaze when their skin made contact, and immediately he knew he had made the right decision. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. This was a woman who had been through a lot and really needed someone to say that they understood. Though he had never possibly imagined he would be that person, not after everything, there was no way he could be so unconcerned, not with this woman.

***

Damn him, she thought as she stared across at him.

And damn me, for feeling this way. He was her past… a time too far gone. Opening up to him— telling him things that are better left unsaid — won’t change that.

But the feel of his hand on hers was…

Incredible.

And the look in his eyes… He really cared that she was upset.

“That’s what caused the initial break-up,” she croaked out, completely negating her previous internal debate. The intensity of Clark’s touch became too much, so she withdrew her hand and leaned back. “I know. Why would I try to reconcile?” She found herself continuing without meaning to. Clark had always been able to get her to open up, without saying a single word. He was so easy to trust. “The fact is I don’t know. I guess I was tired and lonely.” And that was the truth. Jumping in without checking the water level was one thing. Admitting that maybe the water was too shallow was always a lot harder to admit. It was just so much easier to have someone there to help shoulder the responsibilities.

“Lois, you don’t have to explain anything to me,” Clark told her. And he meant it— she could see it in his expression. Even after everything they had been through, this man still felt compassion toward her. “Believe me,” he continued, “I know what that feels like.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and displayed it before her on the table.

She paused briefly, then she was staring down into two of the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.

“That’s my son,” Clark explained. “He’s the product of a night spent trying to erase some of the tired, lonely days I’d been living.”

“Oh wow!” Lois exclaimed as she picked up the wallet. She hadn’t even heard what Clark had said. The small boy in the photograph looked just like his father, except for the blue eyes and sandy hair. The broad smile that graced his lips was exactly like the man’s across from her. “He’s gorgeous, Clark.”

“Thank you. He’s my heart.”

“I’ll bet.” She glanced back up at Clark, and it was her turn to read more into an expression. “By the way you just talked about him, I take it you’re not married.”

Clark shook his head. “No. His mother was an old friend. In fact, she was my high school girlfriend. We ran into each other when I went home to help out my father after his heart attack.”

“Jonathan had a heart attack?” Lois couldn’t help the instant fear she felt. Jonathan and Martha were always so good to her and Taylor. Instantly she felt deep regret for not staying in touch.

“Yeah.” Clark paused, obviously fighting for control of his emotions. “We lost him a year ago,” he choked out after a moment’s pause.

“Oh, Clark.” Her voice was low, and this time it was she that offered comfort by laying her hand on his. Her heart ached for this man. His father had meant the world to him. Both his parents did. “I’m so sorry.” She felt like dying. She had allowed foolish pride to get in the way of her common sense, and now she had learned that a very dear friend had passed away. She was ashamed of herself for the way she had acted and for not being a bigger person.

Clark looked away briefly to stifle the tears that she could see filling his eyes. At one time she wouldn’t have hesitated to wrap her arms around him to provide the support he needed. Now, she wasn’t so sure he would accept the comfort she had to offer. All she could do was allow her heart to silently call out to his.

Clark took a deep breath before meeting her gaze again. “I miss him a lot.”

“I know.” She squeezed the hand she held, causing his eyes to fall, watching her actions. They stayed that way for a moment— so much to say and neither knowing how to say it. In a way, she felt it was her punishment for how she had treated him. If ever she had had a true friend in this world, it had been the man across from her.

And she had thrown that friendship away. To break the moment, Lois smiled and said, “Tell me about this little guy.” She held up the wallet to indicate the photo.

Clark’s look of anguish was replaced with a soft smile. “That’s Jon. Jonathan Clark Kent. I named him after my dad, of course.”

His eyes sparkled when he talked about Jon. She could actually feel how much he loved the little guy. “How old is he?” Lois continued to hold his hand. He needed a little extra reassurance that someone truly cared, she told herself. There was no way she was still holding his hand because she needed the comfort.

“He’ll be three in a month.”

“He’s just too cute,” she couldn’t help but gush. With her free hand, she flipped through Clark’s pictures. It was obvious the man was proud of his little boy because of the sheer number of images of the child he kept so close to him. This was one area she could relate— she adored her son.

Lois smiled at one really cute photo, then stopped on a picture of Clark’s parents. Again, regret roared to the forefront. “How’s Martha?” The older woman had to be devastated. She had adored Jonathan.

“Better. I think Jon’s helped her the most.” He leaned up on the table, his fingers squeezing hers to get her attention. “She’ll be thrilled when I tell her I saw you,” he said when she met his gaze.

“Maybe I’ll call her.” And she would, she vowed silently. Good friends were not very easy to find, and she had traded a very special pair in the name of… temporary insanity. Well, that insanity had cost her greatly. It was time she rectified that.

“She’d like that.” He reached into his pocket and took out one of his cards. After he had scribbled a number, he handed it to her. “I must warn you though, she loves to talk.”

“We’ll get along great.” Lois closed his wallet and reluctantly handed it back to him. Their eyes locked as Clark took the offered item, and they simply stared at each other for a moment or two. So much precious time… She could easily get lost in those dark eyes. “It really is good to see you again,” she told him after a moment. And it was. She had thought of this man often— wondered where he was and what he was doing. Seeing him was as bittersweet as it was satisfying, but more than anything it made her wish she had done a lot of things differently.

“You, too.” Clark’s eyes fell away from hers as he placed his wallet back in his pocket. When he was done, she watched as he settled on gazing at the fingers of his hand still holding Lois’ as he intertwined them with her smaller ones.

Lois allowed him to turn his hand and lace their fingers. What was he thinking? Did he too have regrets? Concentrating on the warmth of his hand, she felt a rush she hadn’t in over four years… Exactly the length of time Clark had been gone from her life. Automatically her eyes drifted up to meet his. One look told her that maybe he did feel similar emotions.

Was it too late? Had she caused too much damage to repair their friendship?

“Maybe we should have dinner sometime,” she heard herself saying even as she tried to decide exactly why that was such a good idea. Dinner implied a bit more than friendship?

Didn’t it?

“Yeah,” was all he said, his gaze dropped once again to their joined hands.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself when he didn’t say anything else. Of course he didn’t want to have dinner with her. He had been back in Metropolis for a while now, but for some reason they had never even bumped into one another. He had probably avoided any place that might have put him in contact with her. It had taken her a long time to admit it, but she had broken this man’s heart. There was no way he would want to spend time with her again.

But maybe…

“You know, I’ll bet Taylor would love to see you. I told him all about the man who sends those cards and gifts. He looks forward to them.” Was that desperation in her voice? She briefly felt two inches tall for using her trump card like that.

“So do I.” Clark admitted softly, giving her sweet respite from her maddening thoughts. There was so much that needed to be said, but she just couldn’t get her mouth, or brain, to cooperate. It appeared that after all this time, her heart was getting in the way.

They both turned when the intercom blared the impending departure of several planes. One was to Chicago.

“Guess that’s you?” Lois said reluctantly.

“‘Fraid so,” he agreed but didn’t look at all thrilled with that fact, which sent a small thrill through Lois.

Or was that wishful thinking? Surely Clark was more than ready to get as far from her as he could.

“Ooo…” She withdrew her hand from the comforting warmth of his and pulled out her wallet to show Clark a picture of Taylor. Maybe it would be enough to convince him to…

To what, Lois? She thought as she extended the photograph. “This is my little man.”

“Look at him. He looks just like you.” Clark held the photo and gazed down at it with a smile. Slowly his smile faded as if he was remembering all of the spirit and memories behind those big brown eyes. Finally he eased the wallet back across to Lois. “Tell him I’ll send a card as soon as I get home.”

That’s all she would get.

And for all she had done, that was enough. “I will,” she promised as she replaced her wallet in her purse.

Clark stood and gathered up his bag. He hesitated briefly before lifting his hand to brush his fingers softly across Lois’ cheek. “Take care of yourself… and that little guy.”

“Always.” She wanted desperately to hug him.

It was much too late for that.

She offered him one last smile before he hurried toward the gate for his flight. Lois was left to stare at the card she held in her hand as her emotions waged war inside her. Clark Kent was the last person she had thought she would see today.

Fate sure had a way of showing you just how human you are.

***

Clark stared out the window of the plane as his mind drifted to the woman he had just seen. Lois Lane was amazing, stubborn, pigheaded, independent, and … absolutely fantastic.

<<<< years earlier >>>>

Clark shook Sam Lane’s hand as the older man greeted him when he arrived at the office of the Lane Agency. Sam had successfully built one of the largest and most successful sports representative agencies in the country. Clark had met the other man a few weeks prior at a convention in Dallas. After deciding that he loved sports, and because of his unique physical attributes, Clark had begun to dabble in the rep trade. He must have made an impression because the best agent in the business wanted Clark to work for him. The young man had immediately been flattered, then very honored. So he had made his way to Metropolis with a fair amount of curiosity. He, in no way, felt himself worthy of such distinction, but if Sam Lane asked for you by name, you answered the call.

“Clark,” said the older man in greeting. “Glad to have you here.”

“It’s good to be here.” Clark was still new to the sports representation world, but he was willing to learn— especially from Sam Lane.

Sam clapped the younger man’s shoulder and started them through the office, introducing him to the staff along the way. They made it to the end of the hall before the older man stopped outside the door of an office and turned to Clark. “Son, behind this door lies the most fierce representative I have ever had the pleasure to work with. She is competitive, demanding, and settles for nothing short of success. She also happens to be my daughter.” Sam finished with a proud smile. “But I must warn you. She is a tiger. We call her ‘Mad Dog’ because when she wants something she goes after it like a mad dog. She’s the best. You can learn a lot from her.” He waggled his finger at him in all seriousness.

“I look forward to working with her.”

Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Boy, no one works with Lois. They just watch and stay out of her way.” Sam was laughing again when he knocked on the door.

“Yeah?”

Sam pushed the door ajar. “Princess, you got a minute?”

The young, dark haired woman sitting behind the desk in the room looked up and smiled. “Sure.”

Sam pushed the door open completely so he and Clark could step inside. “I want to introduce you-”

“Papa!”

Whatever Sam was going to say was interrupted when a toddler launched himself at the man. “Taylor!” The older man scooped up the boy and swung him around in the air.

Clark couldn’t help but smile at the display. Sam and his grandson were laughing and talking happily.

Sam pulled the boy up to sit on his forearm. “How’s my boy?”

“Fine,” he answered clear enough for anyone to understand. His little eyes soon fell on their guest. “Hey,” he told Clark. “I Taylor.”

“Hi, Taylor. My name’s Clark.” Clark extended his hand and was surprised when the boy shook it like a grown man. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” The boy offered a smile then turned back to his grandpa.

Sam lowered Taylor to the floor. “How about you go see if Debbie will give you some of her cookies?”

“‘Tay.”

Clark grinned as he watched two fast moving legs carry the toddler down the hall. He returned his attention back to the adults when Sam spoke again.

“Clark Kent, this is my daughter, Lois Lane.”

Clark had to remember to breathe as his eyes fell on the small brunette who rose and stuck her hand across the table to greet him.

“Nice to meet you, Clark. Daddy has talked about you non-stop.”

Clark’s face burned in a rosy blush as he shook her hand. “I hope I can live up to whatever image he’s built of me.”

“You’ll do fine.” Lois withdrew her hand and sat back down. “Just treat your prospects with the same respect you’d like to be treated.”

“I’ll remember that.”

She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but offer one in return. “I hope Daddy told you we’re one big family here.” She waved a hand around her office.

That’s when Clark noticed she shared her space with a small child, if the toys strewn around were an indication. Taylor was Lois’ son. His heart sank at the realization that she was probably married. It never occurred to question the fact that her last name was still Lane. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She could have kept her maiden name. He’d known several women who had done that.

“As you can see, everyone has a place here, even my son.”

“He seems like he’s at home.” What else could he say?

“Oh yeah. He always comes to work with me. He stays with Daddy when I have to travel, but most of the time he’s at my side.”

Stayed with Daddy? Did that mean she wasn’t married? He reminded himself that he had just met this woman. Getting excited because she might be single…

Just concentrate, Kent. She’s the boss’ daughter, for crying out loud!

“So, you’ll see a lot of him,” Sam told him. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Sure. I love kids.” Absolutely okay, he thought.

Just then the kid in question bounded back into the room with a large chocolate chip cookie in each hand. He ran to his mother’s side and held up one of his treats.

“Dot you one, Mommy.”

“Thank you.” Lois took the offered cookie with a smile. “Taylor, Mr. Kent will be working with us from now on.”

“Ah, I’d really like it if he could just call me Clark. Mr. Kent is my father.”

“Okay,” Lois said as she looked up at him. She seemed to study him for a moment before her eyes drifted to her father. “I like him. He hasn’t been here but a few minutes, and he’s already contradicted something I’ve said.”

“I know.” Sam clapped Clark on the shoulder with a shake of his head. “I tried to warn him about our resident dog.” He and Lois laughed at Clark’s expression. “Relax, son, you’ll be just fine.”

Clark lips spread into a smile when he realized that they were joking. As the trio became acquainted, he also realized he was glad he had come to Metropolis. Good things were in his future.

***

Clark rested his head back on the seat of the airplane. Good things had happened in Metropolis all those years ago. He and Lois had become friends, good friends. So had he and Taylor. Clark had fallen in love with the toddler and hadn’t been afraid to show it. He would often spend time with the boy, even putting a toy box in his office, so Taylor could stay with him during the day.

He had to smile as his mind drifted back to some of the first times he had spent with Taylor.

***

Clark arranged the items on his desk as he settled into his new office at the Lane Agency. He had officially been working for a week but had just gotten back from Florida. He had signed his first player already. That had certainly done wonders for his reputation in his new environment.

“Wuz dat?”

Clark looked up to see Taylor standing on the other side of his desk pointing at a medal in a small case.

“This is my medal for hosting an athlete in the Special Olympics.”

“Oh,” was all the boy said as he looked over Clark’s other items. His eyes fell on a photo of Martha and Jonathan. “Dat your Mommy?”

“Uh huh.”

“Who’s dat?” He was pointing at Jonathan’s image.

“That’s my daddy.”

“Oh.” Taylor walked slowly around to the side Clark was on, touching most of his things as he went. Clark smiled and simply watched him. Finally the toddler looked up at him. “I like you.”

Clark was taken aback by the comment. He had never been told by a child so bluntly that he was liked. “I like you, too.” And he absolutely did. There was something about the child that seemed to just draw him in.

Taylor smiled and ran from the room. Clark just shook his head with a smile. He guessed his new friend would come again when he wanted to. He hoped it was soon because he realized he already missed him.

Funny, Clark thought as he continued to unpack his stuff. A small boy held more fascination than…

Even the boy’s beautiful mother.

The next day Clark noticed Taylor ease into the room as he typed up some of his work. The boy had a child’s Sippy cup glued to his lips as his small eyes watched the man behind the desk. Clark pretended not to notice him just so he could see what he would do. When Taylor made it to his side, Clark had to stop his work and smile at him. He was so cute standing there watching him with huge, soulful eyes.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he managed around the spout of his cup. “Watcha’ doin’?”

“Typing up my report forms.”

“Ya’ bagged a biggen?”

Clark chuckled as he turned his to get a better look at Taylor. “Where did you hear that?”

“Mommy and Papa,” he answered matter-of-factly.

Clark laughed softly again as Taylor sucked the juice from his cup. “Would you like to help me?”

Sure hands plopped the bright cup down on the corner of Clark’s desk. “Uh huh.” He peered up at the screen as if he understood everything on it.

Clark hoisted the boy up onto his lap, so he could show him what he had been doing. Taylor watched patiently as Clark finished his work, then his little eyes lit up when the man punched the keys and produced a child’s game. The next hour or so was spent seeing if they could match colors and shapes.

That had been the start of a beautiful friendship as far as Clark was concerned. He and Taylor laughed and played happily as they sat there at that computer. Clark was impressed by how much that child knew and understood. Obviously Lois and Sam spent a great deal of time with the boy. So wrapped up in their game, neither of them heard Lois until she cleared her throat.

Clark looked up at her sheepishly. “Sorry. Guess I should have told you he was here.”

“No. Debbie told me he was here. I just don’t want him bothering you.”

Clark looked down at Taylor. There was no way this child could bother him. “He’s not. He helped me finish my work, so I’m returning the favor with a game.” The child smiled up at Clark from his position on his lap, and he felt his heart melt. Taylor was a distraction Clark hadn’t known he needed.

“Are you sure he’s not too much trouble?”

“He’s fine.” Clark ruffled Taylor’s hair.

“Okay. Call me if he gets to be in the way.”

“Taylor, tell Mommy to go ‘bag a biggen’.”

“Yeah.” He giggled softly as he looked up at Clark.

Lois shook her head as she left them to their play. Clark refocused his attention on the squirming toddler in his lap, so they could continue their game.

Over the next few weeks Taylor and Clark became closer friends. Taylor was often in Clark’s office, and it seemed the man never tired of the toddler’s visits. Soon enough, Clark had won himself a permanent companion when a few toys started to grace another office besides Lois’.

***

Clark sighed as the pilot announced the flight was just about over. Thoughts of times gone by were pushed back into that far corner of his mind he had long ago deemed safe as he locked his belt in preparation for landing.

Certain things might be better left in the past.

***

“Mom?!”

“In here,” Martha called from the other room.

Clark followed her voice into the living room where she sat among several moving boxes. After checking into his hotel in Chicago, he had flown to the farm to help his mother pack.

“Hi. I see you’re almost finished.” It had taken him months to talk his mother into leaving the house she had known as home for the last thirty-five years and come to live with him in Metropolis. Since his father was gone, he was reluctant to leave his mother in Kansas alone. Martha would finally be with him and Jon again.

Neither wanted to lose the contact the small farmhouse gave them to the man that had run it for so many years, so they had decided it should be leased instead of sold.

He leaned over the chair Martha was in to kiss her cheek.

“It’s just so hard to pack up so many years.” She voiced what he had thought so many times.

“I know.” Clark took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sat down on the sofa. “Just remember what I told you. Those memories are coming with you.” Even if they both hated to leave a place where they seemed to be able to feel the man they had loved more than life itself. But Jonathan would be with them no matter where they lived.

“I know.” Martha sighed audibly. “Is Jon excited about Grandma coming to be with him?”

“Mom. You know he’s looking forward to seeing you every day.” That had been Clark’s selling point to talk her into moving. Truth was he needed Martha as much as Jon did.

“Well, I know. It’s just sometimes…” She trailed off as she got a faraway look on her face. “How does Lana feel about me caring for him when I get there?”

“We’ve been through this, Mom. I don’t care what she thinks. As long as I’m writing the checks for daycare, she’ll have to live with what I say. Period!”

“Well, it’s about time.” Martha turned around to face him fully.

“What?”

“It’s about time you quit bending over to kiss her—”

“Mom!”

Martha shot up from the chair. “I can’t help it! She’s leading you around by your love for Jon. She doesn’t care about you. She can’t get past liking herself long enough. And I don’t like how she treats Jon either. She’s short tempered and impatient with him. Clark, wake up! She only had Jon because she knew she’d get you in the bargain.”

“Then why didn’t she agree to marry me?”

“I don’t know. Something changed when you two separated. I think she just likes the control she has over you while still enjoying the freedom to just do as she pleases.”

“She doesn’t do as she pleases.”

“She doesn’t? What do you call coming in here and announcing she’s moving to Metropolis to model for Hayden’s?” Clark dropped his gaze from his mother’s. “She, in no uncertain terms, told you that you’d either have to move or you wouldn’t see Jon. So you follow her like some little puppy dog. But, thank God, you still have enough sense not to tell her about you know what.”

“Come on, Mom. You know I don’t tell her about myself because I’m scared she’ll take Jon away from me completely.”

“That’s another thing. Clark, you’re a successful reporter. You earn more money than Lana right now. You certainly take better care of Jon than she does. Why would she automatically get him? Son, she doesn’t even want him.”

Clark sighed heavily and sank back against the cushions. His mom had good points. Lana wasn’t very adept when it came to Jon. She did just enough to keep him from complaining. On top of that, she was often gone on some modeling shoot or other. When she was home, all she wanted to do was stay in bed. Clark had recently started staying at work to avoid her as much as possible. Lately he had wondered why he stayed with her at all.

He knew he did most everything Lana wanted so that he could stay close to Jon. Not exactly the way he had hoped his life would end up, but he would do anything for his son.

Martha sat down next to him and placed a hand on his knee. “Maybe it’s time you consider doing what’s best for Jon. Clark, I know Metropolis wasn’t your first choice as a place to raise your son, but you’ve done well. Jon is happy and well adjusted. I just think it’s time for you to call it quits with Lana. You know as well as I do that it will never work for you two.”

Clark lifted his head to look at her. As much as he needed to address this problem, he wanted to avoid it as well. He had been telling himself for three years that Lana was not the woman he was meant to be with. “Speaking of Metropolis… Guess who I saw at the airport?” When his mother shrugged, he smiled. “Lois.”

“Lois Lane?”

He couldn’t help but smile. Just thinking of Lois made him feel lighter than he had felt in months.

Why was that?

Before he would allow himself to answer, he said, “Yep. She was waiting on a football player to get in.”

“Lois,” Martha said absently.

Clark knew immediately his mother was remembering the woman and little boy she had met. Martha and his father had fallen in love with Lois and Taylor. He knew his mother had wished that he would have ended up with them. She had also been the one to comfort him through his devastation when the girl had married someone else. His mom was the only one who knew exactly how much Lois and Taylor had meant to him.

“How is she?” Martha finally asked him. “And Taylor?”

“She’s good. She showed me a picture of Taylor. He’s huge… and handsome. Looks just like his mother.” Clark stared across the room as more thoughts of the two people he had left behind filled his mind. How much different would things have been…?

He couldn’t do this now. Not again.

“I’ll bet,” Martha answered as she glanced over at the picture of Clark and Taylor that still graced the bookshelves. “What… he’ll be seven his next birthday?”

“Yeah. Hard to believe it’s been that long.” Entirely too long, Clark thought as he met his mother’s gaze. “Lois said she’s told him all about me.” And he suddenly found himself wanting nothing more than to know all about Taylor as well.

“Really? His step-father probably didn’t appreciate that.” Martha had never been a fan of Dan’s, and she had never really hidden that fact either.

“Lois and Dan are divorced.” Away from Lois, where he couldn’t see the hurt in her eyes, that tiny part of him that wasn’t as nice as the rest of him silently cheered.

Martha’s brows rose into her hair. “Wasn’t the perfect marriage after all?”

And just like that his rational side was back, pulling that part of him that had always jumped automatically to protect Lois back from the depths. “Mom, come on. She really looked hurt over it.”

“I’m sure she was. She had to love Dan to marry him. Breaking up after only a couple of years can hurt just as much if not more than after many years. You have so many hopes and expectations. Having those yanked away can be very painful.”

“She said they tried to reconcile recently, but it just wasn’t working out.”

“How’s Taylor dealing with all of that?”

“That’s what gets me. She said Dan never… bonded with Taylor. That was one of the reasons they separated. Dan couldn’t bring himself to raise another man’s child.” That fact just rubbed him raw. Taylor couldn’t help who his father was. He was a child that needed love. Why hadn’t Dan been able to offer that? Why hadn’t Lois seen that Dan wouldn’t be able to do that? She was a brilliant woman, yet she had read that man all wrong.

“What?” Martha wanted to know.

Clark nodded his head. “You know, there’s part of me that really wanted to tell her…” He pushed up from the sofa and walked over to look at the photo of Taylor. He stared down into the two brown eyes there, trying to fuse them with slightly older ones he had seen in the photo Lois had showed him. Part of him had wanted to tell her that she had looked right past the man who would have given her the world. Another part, the aching part, wanted to tell her she had gotten what she deserved.

But then he thought of Taylor. He hadn’t deserved any of it. “I guess there’s no use driving myself crazy over the way I thought it should have been.”

His voice was low and filled with all the pain he had experienced so long ago. Seeing Lois again had thrown him through an emotional loop. He was about to relate this to Martha when Lana and Jon came in.

Lana had flown in to see her parents because she would be leaving the country in a week on a photo shoot in England.

“Oh, Clark. Good, you’re back. Here.” She shoved Jon into Clark’s waiting arms. “I have to catch a plane tonight.”

Clark looked up from his reunion with his son to Lana. “What?”

“My agent called and said it was tomorrow or never.”

“But I thought you were leaving next week.”

“Oh, well…” She shrugged helplessly and glared at Martha.

The older woman caught the hint and retrieved Jon from Clark’s embrace, so they could leave Lana and Clark alone. It was obvious the young woman didn’t want her to hear what she was going to say.

“I’ve been thinking,” Lana started. “That maybe I’d get a place… when I get back from England.”

“Are you saying you want to live apart?”

“I think it would be best. I’ll be working constantly, and you’re always pretty involved. I just don’t think it would be fair to our relationship.” She turned her head with a snooty expression on her face. “You already prefer to work rather than spend time with me.”

“Lana, all you want to do is have sex.”

“What’s wrong with that? Look at you. You’re irresistible.”

From any other woman that would have been a compliment, but Lana only said it to get what she wanted. “Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy being attacked constantly.”

“Constantly? Clark, you haven’t made love to me in weeks.”

“And where have you been?”

“I work!”

“So do I. I also take care of our son. And what about Jon? What do you plan to do with him if you work all the time?”

“I’ll find a good daycare.”

“You’d rather take him to some daycare than have him stay with Mom?”

“Clark, I like your mother. But she’s just taking her role in Jon’s life for granted.”

“What?”

“She acts more like his mother than I do.”

“And just why is that? You’re never home. And when you are, you’re in bed or in the tub or on the phone. When you watch Jon, you make him sit at the table with crayons and a book or put some movie in the VCR and dare him to move.”

“Don’t you tell me how to care for my son!” Lana pointed her finger at Clark, her expression fixed in an angry scowl.

“He’s my son, too!” Clark was glaring back.

Lana stood there for several moments as they continued to stare each other down. Finally she turned on her heel and stalked from the room.

Clark threw his hands up and followed her up the stairs. When he made it to their room, she was packing. “Lana?”

“Jon’s coming with me,” she told him without looking up from her task.

“What?”

She stopped and turned to Clark. “Me and my son are leaving. I’ll take him to England with me.”

“You can’t take him away from me.”

“I can and I will.” She pushed past him and continued packing.

“Lana, please don’t do this. I’ll do whatever you want.” He hated to beg, but he couldn’t lose his son. Jon was the only thing that made his life complete.

She wasn’t about to give in though. She pushed a few more of Jon’s things into the bag and went to get hers from the closet.

Clark could only watch as she finished her packing then went back down the stairs. He sighed heavily before hurrying after her. “Lana!”

She had just entered the kitchen again from putting the bags in the car. Martha was watching in silence, clutching Jon to her breast. Lana approached and tore him from her grasp.

“I’ll call you and give you an address so you can send support for Jon.”

Clark’s mouth dropped open. She was leaving and wasn’t even going to let him say good-bye to his son, and all she cared about was the money he would send. How had he ever believed he could have made a life with this woman? Even for Jon? He hurried out the door and reached for a crying Jon as Lana fought to get him into the back seat.

“Let me say good-bye,” Clark told her as he gripped Jon’s sides, his expression leaving little doubt that he meant business. He had bowed to her whims entirely too long.

Lana glared at him a moment before she let go of the boy. “Make it quick.”

Clark looked at Jon then over at Lana. He made a decision that he might regret later, but looking at Jon’s face he knew he had to do what was best for his son. “What am I doing?” he whispered as he turned and started toward the house.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“If you want to leave, go. You’re not taking Jon. He’s just as much my son as he is yours,” he told her without looking back.

“Clark!”

Clark stopped and faced Lana. “No. For nearly three years I’ve done everything you want me to do. I’ve bent over backwards for you just to see my son. If you want to take him, you’ll have to get a court order.” With that Clark entered the house with his son and slammed the door.

Lana was left staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

Clark exchanged a look with his mother, who looked to be smiling a bit, then sat down. Jon smiled at him, and it furthered his resolve that he had made the right choice. It was several minutes before Lana stormed back into the house and dropped Jon’s bag on the floor beside Clark’s chair. He looked up from where he and Jon were sitting at the table into Lana’s angry face.

“Fine. If you want to play rough, I’ll play rough.” That was all she said before she turned and left again, the door banging closed behind her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done this,” Clark suggested. It might have been the right choice for Jon, but that didn’t mean Lana wouldn’t make his life a living hell.

“I say it’s about time,” his mother told him. “Clark, you can’t let Lana dictate the rest of your life.”

He sighed and smoothed a hand over Jon’s head. “Yeah, I know.” And he did know. He was miserable and had been for quite a while. And Jon suffered because of their relationship. He just didn’t look forward to the fight he was sure lay ahead. He rose and hoisted the boy into the air. “Come on, Jon. Let’s go play down by the pond.”

He and Jon left to enjoy what was left of a bad evening. If he spent the rest of his life coddling Lana, he would never have a life of his own. And for some reason, he was suddenly feeling the desire for more of a life than he had had the past few years.

***

In Metropolis, Lois tossed her bag on the table in the foyer of her plush two-story home in one of the more upscale neighborhoods the city had to offer. She had traded in her apartment in the heart of downtown for the proverbial American dream home complete with the white picket fence. Taylor now had a small backyard and a swing set. Lois had a permanent smirk from the satisfaction that waiting until after her divorce to buy her house gave her.

She smiled again as she remembered the last time she and Dan had fought. It had been about her house. Lois shook her head and made her way into the kitchen to fix herself something to eat. Taylor was staying over at her father’s, so she was on her own tonight.

An hour later Lois’ thoughts drifted to her day, stopping on one thing in particular: her conversation with Clark.

Clark Kent had taken Lois by surprise when he came to work for the agency five years ago. After her relationship, if you could call it that, with Claude, she had promised herself and Taylor that she wouldn’t let her feelings for a man cause her to make another huge mistake. Finding out she was pregnant with her son had been a shock, but she had been determined that the baby was not to blame. Claude refused to acknowledge the child as his, and Lois was left to be a single mom, a position she never took lightly. So she had made a promise to make decisions with her head instead of her heart. What a mistake that had been.

Dan was what Lois considered her answer to the incredibly uncontrollable feelings she had for Clark. She had met Dan shortly after Taylor was born at a sports awards ceremony in Los Angeles. They had flirted quite childishly that night, ending up making out in Dan’s hotel room. Lois had halted anything beyond kissing and petting when she remembered what her last moment of weakness had gotten her. She left an angry and disappointed man and returned to her normal little life to tuck her feelings, desires, and wants into the back of her mind, so she could concentrate on caring for her son.

Two years later, she met the only man who had caused her to think about a future that included someone other than Taylor. Clark was a breath of fresh air. He loved her son like Taylor was his own. And she could see and feel the love and desire he held for her. That scared the hell out of the young woman who had fought to make her life her own.

When Dan breezed back into town, she jumped at his offer to go out. She had felt he would be the perfect distraction from her growing feelings for Clark. How they had come to an understanding to be sexual partners, she’d never know. She always blamed it on the loneliness and unrequited desire she refused to show to the only man that had ever moved her. When Dan asked her to marry him, she relented. He had promised to take care of Taylor and that was enough for Lois. There would be no deep seated feelings of love involved, just two lonely people agreeing to be friends and make the days easier to take. It also gave her the perfect excuse to run from how Clark made her feel.

There wasn’t a day that had gone by since that Lois didn’t feel ashamed of herself for the way she had handled things with Clark Kent. He had shown her true friendship, and she threw it back in his face. He was unaware that she loved him so much it hurt, but she was terrified that he would hurt her the same way Claude had. So she hurt him first. The day he left Metropolis she almost broke down and told him how she felt. But she had caused him enough pain. The best she could have done at the time was let him go so he could get on with his life. She had always wished the best things for Clark. Men just weren’t made like him anymore.

Talking to him again made all the feelings, even the pain, surge to the surface. From the way he talked about his son’s mother, he had not been able to find comfort either. Had Lois really done that much damage to such a gentle soul?

Lois dropped her head over into her hands. Clark was still that same compassionate and caring man she remembered. All the cards and gifts over the years that he had sent to Taylor was proof of that. And she had seen it in his eyes as they had talked. Clark might have excelled professionally, and time had certainly treated him well as far as his looks, but the loneliness had left its mark. Although his son appeared to be what kept him going.

Lois had to smile as she remembered the small boy in the photograph. He was stunning. Even with the blonde hair and blue eyes he looked just like Clark. She wondered if he had the same disposition. Lois would bet Jon Kent was even more of a sweetheart than his father.

She rose from the sofa to find the card Clark had given her. Lois stared at the numbers for several long minutes before she picked up the phone and dialed. It was only eight thirty in Kansas.

And it was time to repair some of those bridges she had burned.

“Hello?” came the same, sweet voice she remembered on the other end.

“Martha?”

The older woman gasped slightly, and Lois could almost hear her smile. “Lois. How are you, honey?”

Even after all this time, Martha remembered the sound of her voice. “I’m good.” Better now that she had heard Martha’s comforting tone. “I, ah, saw Clark today, and he gave me your number.”

“He told me. How’s Taylor?”

“Big, with the attitude to back it up.” She felt a smile tug its’ way out. Martha Kent had always been able to make her feel better.

Martha laughed softly. “I’ll bet he’s a handful.”

“He is. I’d love for you to see him.” And she would. Taylor would absolutely love this woman.

“I’d like that, too. Hopefully that will become a possibility soon. I’m coming to Metropolis.”

“Yeah. Are you coming to visit with Clark?”

“I’m moving to be with my boys. He and Jon are all I have now. Where else would I be?”

Lois swallowed the lump from the pain she heard in the woman’s voice. She had to be devastated without her husband. “Clark told me about Jonathan. I’m so sorry. If I’d known, I would have come out.”

“Thank you.” Martha took a breath. “Jonathan will always be part of us.”

“I think it would be hard to know a man like Jonathan and not feel that way.” The elder Kent man had been one of a kind. Meeting him, she had realized how Clark had turned out so well.

“Oh, honey.” This time Lois could almost hear the silent tears she knew were making a trail down Martha’s cheeks. Lois had been overwhelmed by the love she had seen the older couple had for one another. “Now, tell me about Taylor,” Martha finally managed, an obvious attempt to steer the conversation toward more pleasant conversation.

“He’s the best.” Lois settled into her chair and spent the next half hour talking to a woman that had been shaped with God’s own hands. Lois had always been sure of that. Martha Kent was the ultimate dream mother, almost perfect.

Across the wires separating their lives, a friendship was being renewed.

*** (six months later) * * * *

“Clark!” Perry White’s bellow echoed through the newsroom.

Clark was standing in front of the boss’ desk before the man had time to blink. One didn’t keep Perry waiting. “Yes, sir?”

“Got a job for you.” The old editor held up a pair of tickets in his hand. “These are tickets to the fundraiser for the Superman Foundation. I want you there to cover it for the Planet.”

“I thought that was Cat’s job?”

“Usually, yes. But, son, this is Superman. I want the Planet’s best to be there.”

There it was again. Someone else had complimented Clark on his work. “Yes, sir.”

Perry smiled at the retreating back of his reporting sensation. He had been extremely impressed with the young man’s resume. Although he had been reporting mostly on sports for the last several years, Clark had also published articles in his local paper and submitted several freelance news items to the larger papers in Wichita and Kansas City. The long time editor liked the young man’s writing style and took a chance on him. It had paid off. Clark had bagged numerous front-page stories in his first few months with the Planet. With a Kerth award, a Bailey nomination, and several Superman articles to his credit, the man was truly an asset.

***

Clark straightened his tie as he handed the keys for his car to the valet outside the Metropolis Convention Center. These charity functions always made him ill. A bunch of rich people running around trying to impress other rich people. How did someone actually do that?

He would much rather be home with his son. Unfortunately, Jon was with his mother tonight. And Lana had refused to let Clark see him earlier. He would be forced to wait until the following day. Clark also had to consider that this particular function was for the Superman Foundation and since he had a vested interest…

A while later, as he took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, Clark’s eyes drifted around the room. He was pleased with the turn out. Since he had decided two years ago to become Superman, he hadn’t had this much satisfaction for what the Man of Steel had accomplished. He had started the Superman Foundation because he was not only tired of being hounded by people trying to get a piece of the him, he had seen it as a way to help others on a much more personal level. His foundation was responsible for building playgrounds for inner city, keeping homeless families off the street, and scholarships for graduates who would otherwise not get the opportunity to go to college. All in all, he was prouder of the smaller things he had done than he was of the larger ones.

He turned to another group calling to him when he stopped short. His eyes fell on a beautiful… No. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The thin straps of her dress fell across creamy shoulders; the shiny material added a glow to her hair, while a gorgeous smile danced across her lips. She was the one woman he thought he had done well to avoid, yet yearned to see again… and again.

Lois Lane. That was a name he had tried hard to forget, though he knew he would never be able to forget the person. Lois was incredible. She had a fire and a determination the likes of which he had never seen until her. Since the day he had seen her at the airport, he had thought of her often.

Clark had been attracted to Lois from the moment he had first met her. He had done everything in his power to show her that he was the kind of man that could be trusted and depended on. He knew Lois had been attracted to him as well. He had been able hear her heart rate increase when she was near him. Later, as they had gotten closer, he had been able sense her desire for him. Why had she fought her attraction to him and married another man? He had asked himself that question a million times. Looking back, he realized that if he had stayed, although she had married someone else, he might have ached for her constantly, but maybe he would never have had to spend the last few years the way he had. Now he would never know what might have been.

Of course, if he had made a life in Metropolis all those years ago, his son may not exist. And that’s something he wouldn’t change for the world. Jon was his life, his one true connection to this world. It didn’t matter who Jon’s mother was or that he had never really been in love with her. It didn’t matter that Lana had become someone Clark didn’t know or that they weren’t even friends any more. All that mattered was that Jon was here and he was real and he was very much wanted and loved by his father.

Clark looked up to a commotion on the other side of the crowd. Lex Luthor had just entered the room and was greeted by Lois. Clark watched as the woman laughed at something Luthor said. Her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing an absolutely gorgeous neck. The thin straps on the black dress she wore drew Clark’s eyes back to her delicate shoulders. The curves, the eyes, and… He had to stop this line of thought, or he would be doing laps in the arctic tonight for sure. But even as he thought that, his eyes kept sliding over her absolutely gorgeous curves. For the first time Clark noticed that Lois was… pregnant?

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. To Clark, she looked very pregnant. Her mid-section protruded well out in front of her. Though not a bad picture, it was still something of a surprise to him. It also reminded him painfully that she was still unavailable.

“She’s amazing isn’t she?”

The voice of Jimmy Olsen, staff photographer at the Planet, brought Clark back to his surroundings. Clark smiled and said, “She certainly is.”

“They tell me she used to work at the Planet.”

“She did… several years ago. Had the potential to be the best around.” She had told him about her time at the Planet once.

“What happened?”

“Life happened, Jimmy.” Clark shook his head slightly at the thoughts that ran through his mind. So many things had happened with this woman. He pulled himself together and searched for something to change the subject. “I didn’t know Lois was seeing Lex Luthor,” he ventured. He had noticed the exchange between the attractive couple. Though he had no claim on Lois Lane, he couldn’t stop his jealously to think she might be involved with someone… like Luthor.

“They’re not in a relationship exactly. A source tells me that Lex wants Lois to write his biography. He’s dying.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He contracted HIV years ago. In the past year it developed into AIDS and is reported to be in the advanced stages already. Apparently it’s turned him into a new man. He wants to do a little good before he dies and wants the world to know just how evil he really was.”

“I had no idea. How is it I’m considered the investigative journalist, and you get all the juicy info?”

Jimmy shrugged with a smile. “What can I say?”

Clark chuckled softly. He had shared a few by-lines with the young man. Jimmy aspired to be more than the researcher and photographer he was at present, although his work with the camera had earned him a nomination at the latest awards ceremony.

Clark looked back up at the billionaire across the room. “Who would think Metropolis’ top benefactor would be a criminal? But I guess you don’t get that high up without doing a few illegal things.”

“Yeah well, a few don’t come close to Lex.” Jimmy snapped a couple of pictures of a nearby couple before turning back to Clark. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but how’s the custody thing going?”

“Slow. She’s postponed the hearing twice. She can’t do it but once more, which I look for her to do. The hearing’s next week.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. I guess it could be worse though. I could not be seeing him at all.”

“You’re right. I wish you the best, CK.” Jimmy clapped the older man’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“Now… I need to get some shots of these stuffed shirts. Hey, come join us Saturday for our weekly basketball game.”

“You got it.” Clark smiled after the young man. He liked Jimmy. The kid was going to go far in this business, not to mention he was the best researcher Clark had ever had the good fortune to work with.

Now that Jimmy was gone, Clark had nothing to do but watch Lois some more. It was not something he wanted to do.

And it was all he wanted to do.

He grabbed another glass of champagne and downed it as quickly as possible, an attempt to douse his wayward thoughts. Of course, it didn’t help a bit. Sometimes he really wished alcohol had an effect on him.

***

After several chats with different people and twice as many internal debates, Clark bit the bullet and decided to ask Lois to dance. Most of the night he had told himself that it was best just to avoid her — to stay as far away as he could. Only thing was his heart didn’t agree. She looked as beautiful as ever. But Clark had looked deeper. Behind her tired eyes was something he couldn’t discern. And the part of him that had always wanted nothing more than to see her happy immediately wanted to know what had put those shadows behind her deep gaze, even if he knew the encounter might cause him more pain in the long run. Besides, it was just a dance. One short dance couldn’t hurt… much.

Lois had been on the dance floor a couple of times with Lex. Now that she was just standing by Luthor’s side, looking for the world like she was bored stiff, Clark figured it was as good a time as any.

“Excuse me.” Lois slowly turned and smiled when her eyes met his. “May I have this dance?”

Lois let her gaze fall to his outstretched hand a moment before her hand did. “You may,” she replied with a smile.

Clark led them out onto the dance floor, taking Lois into his arms with a strong male confidence. Lois wasn’t just beautiful, she was stunning. Pregnancy made her absolutely glow. Maybe this dance wasn’t such a good idea after all, his heart screamed as he whirled Lois across the small space.

***

Lois’ heart thundered in her chest as Clark led her out onto the dance floor. It seemed like forever since she had seen him at the airport. She talked to his mother at least once a week, but they had made an agreement not to discuss Clark. Martha had somehow understood when Lois still really didn’t. Even if it was the older woman’s son about whom Lois couldn’t decide how she felt, Martha was also wise enough to allow them to work this out for themselves. It worked for them, but Lois couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting to this man and what he was doing. Clark crossed her mind more now than years ago. She had wondered if he would cover this event for the Planet. Standing here with him now, she wasn’t so sure how or even what she felt, but she was glad that he was here.

When he had taken her into his arms, she had lost the power of speech. Clark must have asked her out a hundred times when he had worked at the agency, and she had turned him down every time. Sure, they had spent time together as friends, but she would have had to be blind not to see that he had wanted more. Since they had seen each other again, she had found her thoughts drifting to what it would have been like if she had gone on just one date. To be in his arms, after some of the images that had danced around in her head, made her slightly breathless.

“Umm, you’re a really good dancer,” Lois told him to break the ice.

“I learned ballroom dancing from a Nigerian princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Mom taught me a few things, too. Mainly how to shag.”

“Oh, I love to shag.”

“On the boardwalk at the beach is the best.”

“I know. The smell of the air, the excitement you feel from everyone. You can’t beat that.”

“Sure can’t.” Clark smiled as he turned them around. “I wouldn’t have thought a big city girl would know how to do such a non-city thing.”

“What about you, Mr. Kansas? Isn’t shagging a southern dance?”

“It is. My mom’s from Georgia.”

Lois cocked her head to study his expression. How was it she had ever said no to this man? She smiled after a moment. “I knew that.”

“I know,” was all he said as he spun them again.

“It’s good to see you,” Lois ventured after another moment. And it was. It might be making her lightheaded, but she was enjoying the experience.

Clark smiled just as brightly back at her. “It’s good to see you, too, Lois. How are you?”

“I’m good. Busy.”

Clark looked down at her. “I see,” he told her.

“Well, yeah…” Lois lowered her gaze from his. How in hell did she explain this to him? To anyone? It seemed that she just couldn’t make the right decision to save her life.

Clark’s expression was curious, and concerned, as he looked down at her. “I take it this is not… good news.”

“Good? Well… Surprising. Really surprising.” Shocking, devastating, and utterly humiliating!

“Ah…” Clark, ever the gentleman, quickly moved on to another subject. “Mom says she enjoys your calls.”

“I’ve come to see those calls as therapy,” she admitted without meaning to. Martha had done more for her outlook on life in the last few months than Dr. Friskin could have done in ten years of patient sessions.

Clark simply smiled at her and again moved to a safer subject. “How’s Taylor?”

“Enjoying the weekly cards. He wants to meet you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s time.”

“Then we should have dinner soon,” Lois suggested quickly, much too quickly. Traitor, she mentally shouted at her wayward mouth.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a smile. Was I coming on too strong? she thought when he didn’t sound terribly thrilled with that suggestion. Again, he jumped tracks… right back to a sensitive subject. “Tell me about this little person,” Clark said as he glanced down at Lois’ stomach.

“I know. I know. Looks like as old as I am, I’d know what causes these things,” she joked, an effort to make light of the situation so she wouldn’t break down and cry.

Clark chuckled softly. “When are you due?”

“She’s due in another two months… give or take a week or two.”

“So you know it’s a girl?”

“Yeah. I wanted to know this time around… And it makes everything easier with Taylor.”

“What does he think about a little sister?”

“He’s excited. Sometimes I think I’m crazy for doing this again.” Actually, she thought that almost constantly.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, look at Taylor. He’s exasperating, exhilarating, and absolutely wonderful. Soon I’ll have another to go with him.” She paused, allowing emotions to flow through her that she hadn’t before. Then she made a confession. “Yet, I can’t see my life without either one.” She realized that it was true. After so much indecision and confusion, this unborn child had become just as vital to her as Taylor.

“Mmm, that’s the way I feel about my son. He’s phenomenal. Bright for his age; asks a million questions. ‘Course you can only understand about half of what he says.”

“I remember that age. It’s great. I bet you need a ton of energy to keep up?”

“Actually Jon’s a relatively calm child. Mom says he’s a lot like I was when I was little. He’s just curious.”

“Taylor’s the same way. Wants to know how and why to everything.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed before they both laughed softly. “Wouldn’t change him for the world.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Lois melted into Clark slightly as they moved to the music. She had never understood what it was about this man that could make her relax.

After a moment she looked back up into his eyes. The loneliness and insecurity she saw behind his brown pools took her by surprise. “Jon sounds wonderful,” she murmured in response to his statement.

He didn’t say a word, just smiled. Lois could almost feel that behind his outer shell, there was a lot going on with this man. She found herself wanting to know more about this person she had turned her back on before.

Clark suddenly dipped Lois, exciting a giggle. When he pulled her back up, they were both laughing softly. “I couldn’t resist.”

“It was great. Not many men dip these days.” They danced another second or two before Lois noticed that everyone was watching them. Scanning the room, she realized the music had stopped. Judging by the way people were looking at them, it had stopped some time ago. “Ah, Clark. I think we have an audience.”

He looked around quickly and then dipped Lois one last time. When he pulled her up, he stepped back and bowed dramatically. “Thank you for the dance, Milady.”

Lois laughed softly. “My pleasure.” She took Clark’s arm as the watching crowd offered them applause for their efforts. Afraid of saying good-bye yet again, she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Let’s go out on the balcony.” She couldn’t just walk away again. Not tonight. Not after seeing the shadows behind his eyes.

***

Clark was a little surprised, but there was no way he was going to let this opportunity pass him by. He might have been arguing with himself earlier that it was a bad idea to get close to this woman again, but now he wanted to be as close as he could get. He directed them toward the balcony, stopping to grab himself a glass of champagne and Lois a club soda.

Once outside, he handed Lois the glass. “Thank you,” she told him.

“You’re welcome. Club soda,” he assured her. “Wouldn’t want to give the baby anything she didn’t need.” He took a long sip of his drink, peering over his glass at the lady before him. Lois was still just as fantastic as he remembered her to be. Standing here with her now, he found himself having feelings that bordered on insane, feelings he had fought long and hard to bury.

Lois lowered her glass, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled shyly. “So, where’s your son tonight?”

“With his mother. I get him bright and early in the morning.”

“What’s that like?”

“What?”

“Having to wait to see your son.”

Clark let out a slow, deep breath. “It’s… excruciating. When I first found out about him, I was extremely doubtful that he was mine. Lana was not exactly the picture of fidelity.” Never mind that he doubted he could actually father a child with an Earth woman. Or the apprehension over the paternity testing that followed. Luckily that had turned out well, not revealing his unique abilities to the world. And it had proven that Jon was his son.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. She was demanding I help with expenses related to the pregnancy. If he was mine, I had no problem with that. I wanted to help.” Clark leaned over the edge of the balcony on his folded arms. “Before I could suggest a paternity test, she scheduled an amino procedure. When the results came back, I was thrilled. I knew we had a tough road ahead, but we were bringing this little person into the world that was part of us.” He stared out into the darkness, remembering those months gone by. “I made every effort to work things out and make a life with Lana for Jon’s sake. She was just not willing to do the same.”

“I’m sorry.”

Clark turned to face Lois. “For what?”

“For you not getting to be with your son all the time. There are so many fathers out there that don’t have anything to do with their children. When one really wants to, the mother goes off on some power trip.”

Clark couldn’t help but hear the pain in Lois’ voice. There was something she wasn’t telling him. Of course, it wasn’t exactly his place to ask either.

As he continued to look at her, he found himself falling into her dark eyes. His smile faded as a hot flash of desire shot through him. It’s just because I’m so lonely, he told himself even as he lifted his hand up to trail light fingers across her cheek. “You are a very beautiful woman,” he whispered as he leaned into her.

She needed no prompting. Lois met him half way, and her lips touched his in a warm, sweet kiss. It was soft and absolutely wonderful. Clark drew back to look at her. Obviously she wasn’t adverse to this magnificent torture because she grasped the back of his head and pulled him into another kiss. This one grew steamier. It was Lois who licked Clark’s lips seeking entry to his mouth. And he gladly gave it.

Clark couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips when Lois pressed her body against his. Immediately his arms were wrapped around her, holding her in place. Her hands had found their way into his hair, and for a moment she was the only thing in his entire world. He had wanted to do this so many times and had never gotten the chance. Now that he had the opportunity, he was taking full advantage.

But it was powerful, more so than he would have thought. Was this what so many years of unrequited feelings are like when they were finally unleashed. They kissed for several more torturously sweet moments, before he reluctantly tore his mouth away from hers to stare down into her equally surprised face. Both were breathing heavily, and he found himself wanting to kiss her again.

Before either could form a coherent thought, the balcony doors swung open.

“CK! There you are.”

Clark slowly released Lois as Jimmy rushed up to them excitedly.

“CK, I just heard something that might interest you.”

Reluctantly Clark tore his eyes from Lois’. “What is it, Jimmy?”

“I carry this pocket scanner. Anyway, I just heard one of the medics say they took, and I quote, ‘that Kent kid, the one whose mother is the Tyler Hayden model’, unquote, from an apartment uptown to Metropolis General Hospital.”

“What?!” Clark was scared senseless. His son was on his way to the hospital? Why? What had Lana done? Or failed to do? “When?”

“Just a second ago.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” He turned to Lois with apologetic eyes. He didn’t want to leave, but Jon needed him.

“Go! I’ll call you later.” Lois’s eyes mirrored his terror. She understood.

He nodded then turned to go but stopped to rub Lois’ cheek with the tips of his fingers again. He couldn’t leave without conveying a little of what he had felt moments ago. He hoped it was enough. A small, regretful smile graced his lips before he disappeared.

***

Lois wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. That man was undoubtedly the best damn kisser she had ever had the privilege to experiment with. If she had known that fact years earlier…

The warm moment passed and she turned to the young man before her. “What happened to him?”

“Clark’s son?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like he was burned. From the sound of it, it’s bad,” Jimmy said regretfully.

Lois felt a rush of fear. “Clark,” she breathed. He would be devastated if anything happened to Jon. She would rationalize their kiss later. Right now she needed to know that the little guy was going to be okay. “Thanks,” she told Jimmy as she headed for the door.

“Hey!”

Lois stopped with the door ajar. “Yeah?”

“Tell CK I’m thinking about him.”

“I will.” She entered the ballroom again and sifted her way through the crowd. Minutes later she was in a cab on the way to Metropolis General.

***

Clark landed in the shadows near the emergency entrance to the hospital. He spun back into his tux and ran in. At the desk, a little old lady looked up at him.

“My name is Clark Kent. I think my son was just brought in.”

“Mr. Kent…” she chimed as she sifted through some papers. “Yes. He’s in the examining area. Through those doors and around the corner you’ll see another desk. Inquire about the room there.”

“Thank you.” He barely heard her say he was welcome as the door closed behind him. When he made it to the other desk, his eyes caught sight of Lana outside a curtain area to the left. The sound of his son’s wailing clenched his heart. Lana looked up at him with frightened eyes as he approached. “Lana, what the hell happened?!” he demanded in hushed, angry tones.

“Clark! What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I’m his father. I have every right to be here! What happened?”

“He… ah… he… was burned.”

“Burned? How?”

“He… he… was… a log… from the fireplace. It rolled out. He was sitting on the hearth. It caught his pajamas on fire.”

Clark could only gasp. His fear was beginning to overtake him. If his clothes had caught fire, he could be seriously hurt. “Where were you?” His voice was only a whisper.

Lana turned her head, refusing to answer him. Clark huffed and pushed her aside to go check on his son.

The doctor attending to Jon was also a friend of Clark’s. The poor guy looked relieved when he saw Clark. “Clark, thank God you’re here. He’s been screaming your name.”

The little boy lifted his head at the mention of his father’s name. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” He was crying and reaching for Clark.

“I’m here, son. I’m here.” Clark went to his side, careful not to cause further damage, yet trying to comfort him at the same time. “Shhh. Daddy’s here.” He wiped the tiny tear stained face, clearing away the effects of a runny nose. “Shhh. Jon, Daddy’s here. It’s going to be okay.” His lips touched his son’s head, his mind praying desperately that he was right. There had been many times since Jon’s birth that he had prayed the child wouldn’t inherit any of the powers that at times made him feel so isolated from the rest of the world. But with the knowledge of just what having superpowers could mean, Clark decided that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Jon had gotten a few of his father’s special genes

***

The doctors and nurses carefully assessed Jon’s burns then cleaned his wounds. His small back and bottom were completely covered with third degree burns, and his pajamas had to be peeled away. With them came most of the outer layer of his skin, exposing him to serious infection. Intravenous pain medicine and fluids were administered to make him comfortable and hopefully keep him from becoming dehydrated. His small body had been severely traumatized, and the doctors weren’t sure if he would pull through. The next forty-eight hours were critical.

Jon’s burns were covered in sterile bandages, and he was placed in a tent to prevent exposure to germs. Clark had been allowed to sit with him for a couple of hours just in case he woke and was scared. Since he was in the intensive care unit, Clark had to leave when visiting hours were over, but a hospitality room was provided so he would be close by. The Man of Steel was left to watch helplessly as his only son suffered through his ordeal. He was grateful when the medication finally took affect and the boy was sleeping.

***

Clark pushed through the double doors leading from the Pediatric ICU to find Lana pacing at the end of the hall. When she saw him, she marched in his direction.

“What the hell is going on? Those bastards wouldn’t let me in! I have been answering questions from DCFS for two hours. They accused me of neglect.”

“Lana! I don’t really care what you’ve been doing. Our son has third degree burns over most of his back and bottom. He’s in intensive care. He may not survive. YOU did neglect him!” Clark was furious and had to fight to control himself from choking the life out of her.

Lana showed the first signs of comprehension then. She just stopped, staring at Clark. “He was with the sitter. DCFS talked to her. The incident has been ruled an accident.”

“Accident?! Our son may die, Lana. An accident like this should never, ever happen!” Clark fought the tears that were threatening him. How could Lana have allowed such a thing to happen? Didn’t she understand the consequences of these actions?

“Clark,” she said softly. “I want to see him.”

He calmed slightly at the pain he heard in Lana’s voice. No matter how mad he was, she was still Jon’s mother. “You can go in for ten minutes. The ICU ward has other children there. Neither of us can stay with him, but they’ve provided us with a hospitality suite down the next hall, so we can be near him.”

“Okay.” She lifted her hand to place it on Clark’s arm.

“Don’t,” he told her in a defeated tone. The last thing he wanted was for her to touch him. “Just go see Jon.” Clark turned and headed down the hall toward their room. He could use a little privacy right now.

Clark opened the door to the suite and stopped dead in his tracks. There, pacing beside the bed was Lois Lane. She looked up at him with anxious eyes.

“How is he?”

Clark had to fight to find his voice, her presence throwing him off guard. He had been at the hospital for over three hours. Surely she hadn’t waited all that time?

“He’s…” Clark dropped his head, tears filling his eyes rapidly. “Oh, God, Lois. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

Lois had him folded in her embrace almost instantly. She held his head to her shoulder while he sobbed his fears. He stood stiffly at first, but eventually his arms lifted and his hands clutched her back. He was absolutely terrified. What would he do without Jon?

Finally he turned his head into her neck. Lois lifted a hand to remove his glasses and wipe his face. “I’m so sorry, Clark,” she whispered.

“Thank you… for being here.” His grip on her tightened, and he buried his face in the hollow of her neck and shoulder. He could have easily remained that way forever, he decided. Lois was the only other person, besides his mother, that had ever seen him this weak. Would she think less of him? Right now he couldn’t bring himself to think about it. Jon was the only thing on his mind. After a final squeeze, he lifted his head and drew back from her. “Sorry,” he told her, wiping his face.

He had stepped around Lois, keeping his back to her. “Don’t you dare be sorry. You love your son and you’re scared he’s going to die.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay for you to cry,” she told him softly.

Clark ran a hand through his hair. Maybe she didn’t think less of him at all. But Jon… with everything he could do, he hadn’t been able to prevent him from being hurt.

“I didn’t even hear him,” he said aloud, more to himself than to Lois. “The doctor said that sometimes when a child is burned badly, the shock is so much they don’t even make a sound.” This time he spoke louder so she could hear him. His emotions were waging war, and he found that since he had started, he couldn’t stop. His voice was almost hoarse with remorse. “Still doesn’t make me feel any better.” He chuckled softly. “For all I can do… my son may actually die.”

Lois’ brows furrowed slightly at his ramblings. “Clark, this was not your fault.”

“I should have heard him. I should have gotten there,” he continued. There was so many times when he kept things bottle up inside. This time he needed to talk about this. He needed someone to understand, even if it meant he would reveal things about him that might shock her.

Lois’ expression was even more confused then. She grabbed Clark and spun him around to face her. “Clark, what are you…” Her question died when she saw his face clearly for the first time. Surprise replaced the confusion on her face as she stood there looking at him, a million questions dancing there behind her eyes.

Superman was nothing less than incredible. Since he had come onto the scene, he had blown the world away. He could perform the most amazing feats, including flying, and his presence had cut crime in the city in half. Not to mention that many, many people were alive because the man in blue had been there to help. He was the persona Clark had adopted as a way to use the incredible powers he had inherited from his home world while leading a somewhat normal life. And without a single word, he knew Lois was trying to decide if what she was seeing could possibly be true.

Though he had worked his entire life to ensure no one discovered his secret, suddenly protecting it just didn’t seem all that important. Besides, he was in pain and wanted someone to talk to. He felt Lois was the one. He had felt that way all those years ago, and there was a lot more than attraction between them earlier when they had kissed.

Lois took a step and placed her palm against his face. The look in her eyes told him she knew and that an explanation wasn’t necessary. “Clark, even a superman is allowed to be human.”

Tears refilled Clark’s eyes at the tender expression on Lois’ face. How could she so readily accept him? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. It’s just that most people would totally freak out if they knew that Clark Kent was more than he appeared to be.” He felt he needed to explain. He knew he needed her to understand. It would rip him apart even more if Lois felt she couldn’t get past his differences.

“No. You don’t have to be sorry.” She let her hand fall and took his to lead him over to the little sofa. When they were seated, she turned to him. “I know this would be important to keep quiet so that you wouldn’t lose your personal life.”

“Exactly. Clark is still who I am. Superman is just something I can do.” She did understand! Why hadn’t he taken a chance on her so long ago?

“Clark,” she squeezed his hands to get his attention. “I know. We’ll talk about that later. Now, tell me about Jon.”

She was even more incredible than he thought. Her statement told him that she understood him, but Jon was what mattered most. That made him feel slightly lightheaded. He took a deep breath and began softly. “He’s got third degree burns on his back and bottom. They have him wrapped and in a germ free tent, but his small body was really stressed. The fluid loss may be too much.”

“So he’s not… special?”

“He’s healthier than most kids. I mean, he’s never been sick. But no, he’s not invulnerable yet. I wasn’t until I was over ten.”

“Oh…” He almost smiled at the look on Lois’ face. She wanted to know more, and he would be glad to tell her. Later.

“What happened? How did he get such bad burns?” Lois continued.

“I don’t know. Lana says he was with the sitter, and a log from the fireplace rolled out and caught his pajamas on fire. He was sitting on the hearth. What ticks me off is that she refused to let me see him tonight, but he was with a sitter. And downtown. What the hell was he doing downtown? The sitter usually goes to the house.” Clark ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I get the impression Lana didn’t think it was serious. I honestly think she was going to get him patched up and back home without telling me about this.”

“Oh, Clark.” Lois reached to take both of his hands in hers. “Did you call Martha? I can do it if you need me to.”

“I called her. They wouldn’t allow her in, so she went back home.”

“She must be frantic. I’ll call her for you so she’ll know he’s hanging in there.” She squeezed his hands, causing him to nod. It was all he could do.

Clark looked at their joined hands then up at Lois. To have her here meant the world to him. “Have you been here all night?”

“Of course.”

“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask it.

“Because… you needed a friend.”

Clark was choked up again. This woman was not only beautiful; she was compassionate. He leaned over and placed his forehead on hers. His emotions were threatening to overwhelm him, and he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. If he kept looking at her, at those huge, deep eyes, he might just do something or say something he might regret later. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me,” he whispered, opting for the truth but a safe truth.

Lois smiled when Clark pulled back. She was about to say something when Lana entered the room. Understanding far more than Clark had first imagined, she handed him his glasses back.

Clark put his glasses on with a sigh of relief for Lois’ thoughtfulness. Lana didn’t know about his super side, and he would like to keep it that way. How was it Lois could understand that?

“Who are you?” Lana demanded immediately.

Lois stood and extended a hand to Lana. “I’m Lois Lane.”

“Lois Lane?” she repeated without taking the offered hand. “Clark, what are you doing?”

Clark stood now. “Lana, Lois is a friend.” Clark put a carefully placed hand on the small of Lois’ back, his action contradicting his statement. He wanted Lana to know, to see, that this woman was special to him.

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say she was your latest bimbo?”

“Excuse me?” Lois spoke up before Clark got the chance. “Ms. Lang, your son is in intensive care. I don’t think you can afford to be standing around calling people names. Clark is a friend, and he definitely needed to have someone here for him.” She turned to Clark, placing a hand deliberately on his chest. “I’m going to go. The last thing you need is more stress.”

“Don’t go. We can go down to the cafeteria and get some coffee.” Did he sound as desperate as he felt? Lois had offered him comfort and he was loathe to lose it just yet.

“Clark, you need to be near Jon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Definitely desperation, but there was no way he could go back to pretending she was his past. Not after she had held him. Not after he had shared so much of himself with her. Lois was his present.

Maybe she might be his future.

“I’ll bring that coffee bright and early.”

“Okay,” he relented. He squeezed her hand briefly before she pulled away.

Lois stopped in front of Lana. “I hope your son will be okay.”

Lana snorted as the door closed behind Lois then turned to glare at Clark. “That was uncalled for.”

“What was?”

“Having her here. Jon is our son.”

“You don’t seem to mind when Eric comes to your place,” Clark shot back. The young man had been at Lana’s more than once when he went to pick up Jon or drop him off. Eric had also sat in the car when Lana dropped Jon off at his house. He felt sure Eric was living with Lana, but he couldn’t prove it. And he refused to spy on them with his special abilities for fear of seeing something that would make him take actions he would regret.

“Eric’s not here is he? My God, Clark, she’s pregnant. Don’t you think she’s got someone waiting at home?” Lana placed her hands on her hips, a narrowed expression taking over her face. “Unless, of course, it’s your baby.”

“You’re out of line!” he almost shouted.

“Am I? You’re always accusing me of this or that. What about you? You’re not perfect!”

“No, I’m not. But right now Jon is what’s important.” Besides, Lois hadn’t told him about the baby’s father. And it was certainly none of Lana’s business. “Look, Lana,” Clark said in a calmer voice. “I don’t want to fight. Jon is lying in there, fighting horrific burns. We should be coming together, not tearing each other apart.” He didn’t have the energy to fight with Lana right now.

“You’re right,” Lana gave in. “I really am sorry about all of this.”

“Yeah well, tell that to your son.” Clark averted his gaze a moment, unable to stop himself one final barb, then turned back to her. “I’m sorry, Lana. I know this is hurting you, too.” And he did. She loved Jon— maybe not the way he did— but she loved him all the same.

“It is,” she said through tears that Clark would later say were an act.

“Come here.” Clark pulled her into his embrace. No matter how they felt about each other, Lana was still Jon’s mother. Clark would always care for her very deeply.

***

After the comforting hug, Clark and Lana had settled on the bed. Clark sat against the headboard and held Lana while she slept. He almost resented the fact she could slumber so easily while so much was going on. He kept picturing Jon, lying helpless inside that tent. Would he get to hold that ball of energy again?

And Lois… What did last night mean? Did she feel anything they might be able to build some kind of future on? God, he hoped so. He had never felt quite so full as he had when she had held him. How much more wonderful would he feel if she held him while they were in some kind of relationship? At this point he would take friendship. Much like he had known before he left Metropolis years before; being friends with Lois Lane was better than not having her in his life at all.

It was some time later before his thoughts calmed enough to allow him to drift to sleep.

Now he was having the most sensual dream. Lois was placing kisses on his bare chest and neck.

Lois? One kiss and his mind was placing her in his erotic dreams.

He would have to analyze that later because right now her hands were roaming his body. What was that? She had just sucked his earlobe into her mouth, softly moaning his name.

Clark’s eyes shot open. That had been no dream. And he was not with Lois. Lana was the one kissing him. He took hold of her head to stop her. “Lana, what are you doing?”

“Trying to make you feel better. We both need this, Clark.”

Clark pushed Lana back so he could get up. “You may need sex every six hours, but right now all I need is my son.” He picked up his jacket and snatched the door open, leaving an angry Lana behind. How in hell could she want to have sex now?

He rounded the corner and came face to face with Lois. She held up the cups in her hands.

“Just as I promised: hot coffee.”

Clark smiled and reached for one of the cups. It felt like he had been holding his breath and hadn’t been able to breathe until just now. “Thank you. I really need this.” Clark lifted the lid and took a sip.” He was pathetic. One kiss… Several very intense kisses, his lips reminded him. He felt as if he had been branded by her touch. Those kisses, and the comfort she had offered— he was hooked, his heart banking on something special with this woman.

“Have you heard anything?”

“Not yet. I was just going to check.”

As if on cue, the ICU doors flew open, and Clark’s friend from the ER came through. “Clark! Come on. Jon’s awake and asking for you. He’s going to be okay!”

Clark’s face broke into the brightest grin he’d had on his lips since the night before. That was the best thing he had heard since Lois had said she understood about him. Lois reached to take his coffee.

“Go!” she told him with a grin.

In his excitement, and before he could rationalize why he shouldn’t do it, he placed a soft kiss on Lois’ lips, then he disappeared behind the doctor. Lois could only smile through her own tears for Clark.

***

“Daddy!” Jon’s little arms were reaching for Clark the moment he saw him.

Clark looked over at the doctor for approval to take his son. The doctor nudged him, giving him all the encouragement he needed. Clark pulled Jon into his arms and hugged him to his chest. He kissed his face several times before lowering him back to the bed. “I love you, Jon,” he whispered.

“I wub you, Daddy,” Jon chanted. “I want choc-choc.”

Clark laughed softly as he turned to the doctor. “He wants chocolate milk.”

“I don’t see why not. He doesn’t have a fever and there appears to be no sign of infection. In fact, he’s made remarkable progress. Darndest thing I’ve ever seen.” The doctor ruffled Jon’s hair. “I’ll go get that milk.”

Clark was all smiles as he and his son caught up. There would be time for other worries later. Right now he was thanking God, and a few amazing abilities, for giving him his son back.

***

Lois took a deep breath and started back toward the elevator. She wasn’t sure how long Clark would be, so she would just have to catch up with him later. And she would definitely catch up with him. After their kiss the night before, she would never be able to fight her attraction, or desire, for Clark. She had walked the floor most of the night, desperately searching for another insane reason to keep them apart.

Well, she was very pregnant, with another man’s baby. That might be the wrinkle in her carefully crafted imagination.

And she had imagined all kinds of things after she had left Clark the night before. Every single one involved him. Even more involved them together.

Later— she would call him and maybe see him again.

Lana’s voice stopped her before she had taken three steps.

“Lois, was it?”

Lois turned to look at her. She had instantly disliked this woman. How the heck Clark had ended up with her was a mystery? “Yes?”

“I remember you. Clark worked for your father several years ago. He has pictures of you and your son.” Lana sized Lois up before she spoke again. “There are rumors that you two had an affair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Clark and I were colleagues.” Yet, she found herself thinking, ‘what if we did?’ It wouldn’t have been an affair back then anyway. They had both been single.

“And friends. That’s what you said.”

“Yes. Clark and I are friends. Just because he’s the father of your son doesn’t mean he can’t have friends.” Why did she have to say that? It was probably going to tick Lana off. Clark didn’t need that now, not on top of everything else.

“Oh, I know. Nor does it mean you have any business around my son.”

“Excuse me? You cannot dictate Clark’s or Jon’s entire existence.” Wow! Did this lady have any idea who she was talking to? And to challenge her? Her son was lying in the ICU, and for all this woman knew, he was dying, and all his mother could think about was a supposed affair his father had. Can you say obsessively possessive?

“No. But I can cause Clark a whole lot of grief.” Lana took a few steps toward Lois. “Surely you don’t want to be the cause of Clark losing his visitation rights.” Her gaze swept Lois’ pregnant body. “And you obviously have your hands full.” With a final leer at Lois, Lana went through the double doors into the ICU area.

Lois let out a choked sigh. What nerve! Lana was ordering her to stay away from Clark. Not to mention the fact that the woman made a comment about her unborn child. Well, no one ordered Lois Lane to do anything, and no one would talk about her children. She had seen Ms. Lang with that male model several times around town. It was rumored he was living with her. In fact… didn’t he live in an apartment building uptown? Lois jabbed at the call button on the elevator, new fire stoking her into action. She was going to find out exactly what happened to Jon Kent.

“And so help me if his mother did neglect him…” she mumbled as she entered the car.

Lois Lane was doing what she had always done when she was pushed into a corner… she was fighting back. She had fought back when she found out about Taylor. She had fought hard to earn her place in a man’s world. Now she would fight to help her friend if his son was being abused.

Why hadn’t she fought before? The thought came slamming into her with overwhelming force.

She had fought. She had fought to get as far from those feelings as she could. Now though, now she wanted to fight for a different reason.

Or more precisely, she would not fight this time. It seemed that she had decided not to fight her feelings for a certain man from her past.

***

Clark entered his Hyperion Avenue brownstone later that morning. “Mom?!”

Martha came into the living room from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, to where Clark was sorting through the mail. “How’s Jon?” She had gone to the hospital the night before, but being unable to go into the ICU to see the child, she had come home. At least here, she had been able to work. And that had kept her busy while she awaited news of Jon’s health. Thankfully, her grandson was out of the woods now.

“Good. He’s asking for you. They’ll have him in a room by two. We’ll go back together.”

“I’ll be ready,” Martha assured him. “And I called Perry. He said not to worry about anything at work. He wants you to make sure Jon is okay before you even think about coming back in.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Clark took one last look at his mail before his thoughts got the best of him. He dropped the envelopes and looked up at his mother. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me Lois was pregnant again?”

“What?”

“I saw Lois last night at the benefit, and she came to the hospital. She’s out to here.” He demonstrated with his hands.

“Clark, I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. What did she say?”

“We only spoke about it briefly. By the way she acted the pregnancy wasn’t exactly something she wanted.”

“I guess I’ll ask her about it.”

“No, Mom, don’t. She obviously has a lot going on. Maybe it’s none of our business.”

“She’ll tell me if she wants me to know.”

“That’s right.” Clark pushed a hand through his hair. Maybe he would call her. He would love to offer her the kind of comfort she had given him the night before. “I need a shower.”

“Okay.”

Instead of heading upstairs, Clark sat down at the desk and picked up the mail again. Martha smiled and patted his shoulder before she disappeared back into the other room.

Clark rubbed his temples, trying to figure out what to do about Lana. Since he had refused to allow her to have Jon that day on the farm, she had made his life hell.

It had only taken Lana a couple of weeks to file for and get custody of Jon. How she had done it so quickly was beyond Clark. She had been madder than hell she had had to postpone her shoot in England, so Jon and Clark were the ones to pay the price. Clark had to turn his son over to her with only minimal visitations. He was also forced to pay an obscene amount of child support. It had taken three months for him to get another hearing. Lana kept postponing the inevitable, so Clark filed a temporary injunction to ask for more visits. The end result was that Jon was able to spend equal time with him as he did with Lana. Clark’s child support was reduced, and he no longer had to play by rules to a game that was made up as they went along.

Lana immediately countered with accusations that Clark was an unfit father. The latest hearing, one she had demanded, had been postponed twice. With last night’s accident it may not be such a bad idea if he filed for an emergency hearing to see if the courts would grant him physical custody. As much as he hated to do that to Lana, Jon didn’t deserve to suffer for the sins of his parents.

Clark sighed and rose to go shower. There would be time to think about Lana later. Right now he was going back to check on his son.

***

Two days later Lois was fuming. Jon had been burned in his mother’s new apartment. Apparently the lease had been assumed that day. Lana had indeed left Jon with the sitter she used regularly. But when the girl was questioned she was evasive and defensive, as if she had been threatened, bribed, or both. Obviously a lot more than an accident occurred in that apartment that night.

Lois was about to pick up the phone to call Clark when it rang. She had been attempting to call him for the past two days. When she had failed to get an answer at his place, she had spoken with Jimmy and was told Clark had been in conference with his lawyer the day before and would be in court today. She figured he had filed for an emergency hearing for protective custody of Jon. It’s what she would have done.

“Lois Lane?” she greeted her caller.

“Hi. Sorry I missed you the other day.”

Lois smiled as she recognized the deep voice on the other end. “Clark. I was just about to call you.”

“Were you? To what do I owe that privilege?”

“I wanted to see how Jon was… and you.” Did that sound okay? She wanted him to know she cared about him as well as Jon.

“Jon’s great. His burns are healing faster than should be normal. I think maybe that has something to do with his… special genes.”

“Oh, Clark. I’m so glad to hear that. Is he home?”

“Ah… yeah. Lana took him home today.”

Lois could hear the pain in his voice. “What happened, Clark?”

“I took her to court for an emergency protective order. The judge said he didn’t see any evidence that the whole thing was anything more than an accident.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Lois. When I asked about the sitter, he said Lana was entitled to a life. She retained physical custody. I did get an extra night a week with him. Guess that’s something.”

“Yes. That’s definitely something. I’m glad to hear you weren’t totally discounted.” Poor guy. There wasn’t much else she could say to help ease his pain.

“Yeah. I just wish he hadn’t suffered at all. God, Lois, she bought an apartment uptown. She’s moving closer to her lover.”

“I… I know. I asked around. I hope you don’t mind. I was trying to help.”

“No, no. Thanks for the thought. Her new address just means Jon’s that much farther away from me. Good news is since she made the move on her own, I don’t have to pay her rent anymore.”

“See. Something else positive.” They made him pay her rent?!

Clark chuckled softly. “What do you say we celebrate my little victories with dinner and a movie?”

“Well…” She ran Lana’s warning through her head, quickly discounting it. This might cause Clark a little more trouble, but she could hear the pleading tone in his voice. Besides, they needed to talk. “I’d love to. Just let me call Daddy to ask if Taylor can stay the evening with him.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time his voice sounded genuinely happy, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her own face. “See you then.”

“Bye, Lois.”

She was still smiling when she replaced the receiver. Lana Lang was the least of her worries. She had best be worried about herself and her incredible attraction to this man. That could seriously be trouble, a lot of trouble.

***

Clark’s eyes sparkled as he watched Lois lay her head back and laugh. They had shared a wonderful Italian meal, followed by a show at the Cineplex. Now they were sitting in a little cafe sharing a dessert and coffee.

“Yeah. Mom was great about it though. She once told me that I brought her more joy than she’d ever thought possible.” Clark’s smile faded, and he hung his head, playing with his dessert. “I never understood that until Jon.”

“Tell me about him,” Lois requested softly.

Clark looked back up at her with a smile. “He’s great, Lois. Other than his head of blond hair and eyes, he looks like me. Even has a mole above his lip…” He indicated with his finger. “He has the most beautiful blue eyes.” Lois smiled as Clark transformed before her eyes. “He likes me to read to him. And loves Disney movies. I take him to the park, and we swing for hours. He’s got these tiny little hands… but when they touch you…” Clark leaned up on the table. “Well, you can’t help but melt.”

“You really love that little guy.” It was more a statement than a question.

“You would, too. He has that way about him. God, I wish I’d listened to my folks. I could have a son in a loving marriage and be with him every night. But no. I had to do things my way.”

Lois could only smile. Clark loved his son so much she could almost feel it. She would give anything if she could take back some of the awful things she had said and done to him so long ago.

Clark straightened and looked over at Lois. “I wanted to ask you to bring Taylor tonight.” He glanced down at his coffee mug. “I guess I’m nervous about seeing him again.”

“Why? He’s looking forward to meeting you again. He talks about you all the time.”

“And I think about him,” Clark mumbled. He took a sip of his drink before looking back up at Lois. “Why don’t you come for lunch on Sunday? Taylor and I could meet again. You could meet Jon. I’ll have him this weekend.” Clark offered her a megawatt smile. “Come on. Mom would love to see you.”

Lois chuckled softly, dipping her head to hide the flush she felt from his smile. She would love that. But still… How much hell would Lana cause for him? “Well, I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”

“Why not? Just a relaxing afternoon and good food. No strings. I promise. Well, maybe the ones on a kite if the wind’s right.”

“Clark, Lana told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from Jon. She said she would have your visitations stopped.”

Clark let out a ragged breath. She could tell he was frustrated with Lana, and she regretted saying anything about her at all. “Lois, Lana cannot stop my visits. If they take my son away for having a meal with a friend, then they sure as hell should have taken him away from her today.”

What had that woman done to this man? He was such a gentle soul. Lana had tainted that slightly. “So, was I right in believing Lana doesn’t know about your super side?” She had wanted to ask him that question all night. As curious as she was about Superman herself, she was even more curious to know why she knew this personal thing about Clark when a woman he had been very intimate with didn’t even know.

And he didn’t look at all bothered that she had asked. “Yes,” he told her simply. “You’ve seen for yourself how she can jump to conclusions…”

“I can just imagine how she’d react to that,” she finished for him, images of an angry, deranged woman flashing behind her eyes. She wanted to know more and knew without a doubt he would tell her if she asked, but she also knew the importance of keeping his super side a secret. And discussing it in public wouldn’t be very prudent. They shared a glance and came to a silent understanding to continue this particular conversation when they were truly alone.

“So…” he managed and looked relieved when she smiled. “Lunch on Sunday?”

“Well…”

“Come on. Jon will love you. You’re just alike.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. You’re both stubborn and full of fire.”

Lois swatted at his arm. Clark dissolved into laughter but gently reached for her hand. “Say yes. The kids will have a good time.”

That look, like a begging puppy, was her undoing. If he had been aware of the power of that expression years ago, she would have been unable to resist him. “Okay.”

“Good. Any time after nine. The kids will have time to play if you come early. 348 Hyperion Avenue.” Clark squeezed her hand, then stood. “I think I better get you a cab before you change your mind and decide I’m not a gentleman

“Who says I haven’t already decided that?”

Clark covered his chest with his hand. “Uh, you wound me.”

Lois laughed and took his arm. “Just walk me out, would you?

Clark covered her hand on his arm with his own, and they exited the cafe with equally large smiles. Why had she waited so long to do this? They had had a wonderful time, and she hadn’t felt the least bit pressured, nor had she been treated like she was a piece of meat. Of course, she knew Clark would be a complete gentleman. It was her own feelings she was worried about. Yet, he had put her at ease, and they had easily slipped into a comfortable companionship.

***

Sunday was two days away, but Clark couldn’t contain his excitement over the upcoming dinner. He had wanted to ask Lois out since he had seen her in the airport.

If he were really honest, he would admit he had been avoiding her though. When Clark had lived in Metropolis years ago, he had fallen in love with the city with his first breath. The pace, the action, and the people fuelled his insatiable desire to run the rat race. Clark had also fallen in love with Lois Lane at first sight. She was incredible. She had a fire like no other woman he had ever met. Part of that fire came from the fact that she was a single mother, which only made the total package more appealing.

Lois had worked briefly at the Daily Planet as a researcher before she graduated college. She had planned to go to work full-time after graduation. Only her chance never came. She had fallen prey to a smooth talking Frenchman who had told the young girl all the things she had wanted to hear. She was too young to know his seduction was just a ruse to allow him to score the ‘fresh meat’. He had walked away the morning after, leaving Lois devastated. She was too humiliated to continue to work with the man, so she made her father happy by joining his firm. Six weeks later she was once again floored when she found out she was carrying the baby of the man who had treated her so badly. But Lois’ sense of fairness won out, and she called him to let him know he was going to be a father. He, in no uncertain terms, told her that he was not the father of her child and would not be responsible in any way. When Lois collected herself, the woman she would become replaced the child she had once been.

Lois came through her ordeal stronger. She had refused to abort her child and became a single mother. Taylor became the light in her dark world.

While Clark’s relationship with the toddler grew, he couldn’t get so much as a second look from Lois. She had decided that dating was off limits.

That is… until him. Dan Scardino. Dan was the manager of a fighter Lois signed about four months after Clark came to work. It was still a mystery what Lois saw in him, but just months later they were married in a small ceremony downtown. Clark was devastated. He had held out hope that one day she would see him as more than just a friend.

And friends they had become. Over the months they became best friends. Clark always figured that was the reason she didn’t see him as anything more. But the relationship began to deteriorate when she married Dan. She often travelled with Dan. It became almost painful to be around them. Watching Dan with Lois was hard but seeing him with Taylor was excruciating. Clark knew he had no reason to feel that way. Yet, he couldn’t help it either. When Dan came to him and asked him to leave, he was almost relieved. He told Lois he had had an offer from a major agency in Los Angeles, which he had arranged. He said an emotional good-bye to Taylor and left.

He had agreed to leave to allow Dan to develop a relationship with the boy. He felt he owed that much to Taylor. He only wanted the boy to be happy. But Clark couldn’t help sending cards on holidays or gifts at Christmas and on his birthday. He felt like he had left behind his own son.

The first few months were horrible, but as time passed his pain lessened. He travelled a great deal, using his powers to help those in need. He would move on when he thought someone was getting too close to his secret. Eventually he thought he might be okay.

A call came for him to come home. That trip changed Clark’s life forever. He ran into his old girlfriend Lana Lang when she was home visiting her folks. In a moment of weakness and incredible loneliness, Clark surrendered to his physical desires. His coupling with Lana resulted in a pregnancy. The on and off relationship between the two had often been volatile. And until six months ago he had done everything the woman wanted just so he could be with his son.

Having Jon was fantastic. He gave Clark’s life a meaning it never had before. For the first time in months, he was able to focus on something besides Lois and Taylor Lane. He took a slight step backwards when his father died, but it was his mother and her amazing strength that kept him going. He had moved to Metropolis to be near Jon and realize his long-time dream of working for the Daily Planet. He talked his mother into coming a few months later.

When he had run into Lois at the airport, all the feelings he had ever had for her rushed around him. He was glad they hadn’t talked long. He left the airport determined that he had been hurt enough by his feelings for this woman. She was forced to the back corners of his heart once again. But he had wanted to call several times since he had seen her that day. She was constantly on his mind. And Taylor… he thought of him just as often. As much as he tried to suppress what he felt for those two people, he just wasn’t able to go a day without them crossing his mind. Seeing Lois at the charity event for the Superman Foundation made him think that maybe he had been wrong trying to deny his feelings for her. Besides, he was tired as well. If there was a chance at all she might feel anything for him, then he might have a second chance. The kiss they had shared had been completely reciprocated. Just maybe there was a chance for them after all.

But all was not well with Lois. It was obvious by her lack of revelation to his mother about her new baby. He had wanted to go to her and find out what it was. He had wanted to see Taylor, yet his heart refused to budge.

Now, as he thought about their date the night before, Clark wanted nothing more than to see Lois every chance he got. He just hoped his heart could survive another shot from Lois Lane.

***

Lois opened the door to a deliveryman. “Thank you,” she told him after she signed for the two packages.

“You’re welcome.”

“Let me get you a tip,” she told the young man as she turned to grab her purse from the hall table.

“No need, ma’am. It’s been taken care of. Have a nice day.”

“You, too,” she replied as she shut the door and placed the boxes on the table. She took the card from the largest box, and her lips spread into a smile as she read the words.

‘Lois, I just wanted to say thank you for a wonderful night. I had a great time. Tell Taylor hi and that I can’t wait to see him. It’s long past time we meet again. Clark’

The large box held a dozen yellow roses. A smaller box held two tickets to the Metropolis Braves baseball game for that night. Lois smiled again and called her son in to give him his gift.

“Wow! Clark’s the best. Friday night games are followed by fireworks.” He turned the tickets over in his hand. “Think Grandpa’ll go with me?”

“I’m sure he will,” Lois agreed softly. “Clark says to tell you hi, and he can’t wait to see you.”

“Cool! I can’t wait either. I’m gonna go call Grandpa.”

“Okay, sweetie.”

Lois’ thoughts drifted to the man she had worked with years ago as she put the roses in water. Clark was unlike any man she had ever known. At barely twenty-two, he had been as grounded as her nearly fifty-year-old father. It didn’t take Lois long to realize Clark was more grown up than the sleaze she had slept with when she became pregnant with Taylor. Falling in love with Clark followed shortly after.

The night after she had seen Clark at the airport she thought she had reconciled all she had ever felt for him. Calling his mom had renewed a wonderful friendship, although there were things she couldn’t bring herself to discuss, not even with someone as wonderful as Martha. They never talked about Clark, but she felt like she knew Jon already. Martha loved her grandson and never tired of talking about him.

Lois had decided that having the woman as a friend was all right as long as she didn’t have to cause Clark any more pain. So she talked to Martha without contacting Clark at all. When she found out about the pregnancy, she was so glad she had made that decision. He certainly didn’t need that.

Since she had seen him at the charity gathering, she had stopped fighting the urge to stay away from him. So many things needed to be said. Still there was a part of her that thought maybe she shouldn’t invade his life again. Now it looked like he wanted that world invaded.

Lois sighed for all the things that had happened in the past months. Life had certainly dealt her a different hand than she had wanted. Now she had to play it as best she could.

Did that include Clark Kent? She realized she wanted it to. They had been good friends, best friends even. She missed that. She hadn’t had a relationship like that since him. But was that what he wanted? Lois had always felt the reason he left was because of her marriage to Dan. The reason he had given her was that he had been offered a position in LA he just couldn’t pass up. He said his good-byes and was gone. Lois had been so distraught that she was livid. He left without telling her good-bye because she wouldn’t talk to him. What had hurt the most was knowing she may have cost her son the best relationship he would ever have. Although Clark had sent cards and gifts over the years, he had never attempted to see Taylor again. Now all that was about to change.

Lois smiled at that thought. Clark Kent wouldn’t be so bad to have around. Just the short times she had seen him recently, he had given the impression that he had only grown more compassionate and caring with time. Their date had been wonderful. He had talked on and on about his son. And he had sent flowers. Men just didn’t do that anymore. Although they had talked openly and easily, she was grateful he hadn’t pushed her about the baby. Lois wasn’t sure she was ready to face that one.

Was that fair to Clark? She was nearly eight months pregnant with another man’s baby. Could she start a relationship with Clark now? Should she? She didn’t have the answer for that. She just wanted to see where this all would lead. Besides, a friendship with Clark was more important than anything else.

It was even more important than the fact that he was Superman. Wow! For as much as she had known about Clark before, she hadn’t known him at all. He was this other person—this other man who could do fantastic things. That took her breath away. How had he become so grounded? He could use his powers to do anything he wanted, yet he helped others. He was so selfless, so compassionate, so… Clark.

Lois sighed and grinned widely. No matter what he could do, no matter where he was from, he was still Clark. And Clark was someone she wanted to spend time with.

***

“Come look, Mom. Clark’s on TV.”

“What?” Lois put her files down and turned to the set in the corner of her office. LNN was live on the scene of a fire in an office building downtown. Clark was being shown as he carried a child from the daycare facility on the ground floor. He deposited the child and ran back in. She held her breath until he emerged again with another child. Apparently that was the last one because he stood back and watched as the firefighters attacked the flames.

The announcer’s voice cut in, “That’s right, folks. Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent doesn’t just write the news, he is the news. Eyewitnesses say the young man never hesitated when a small explosion rocked the area. Kent had been at the center to interview the director for an upcoming fundraiser. The ground shook and smoked billowed from the windows. Kent ran straight into the burning building with no apparent concern for his own safety. Because of his bravery, three small children that might otherwise have died are being reunited with their parents. I can’t speak for everyone, but that certainly is beyond the call of duty in my book.”

Lois shut her open mouth as she watched Clark tell the press he had no comment. Why hadn’t he saved the children as Superman? Had he been where he couldn’t get away to change? Or had he just reacted? She would have to ask him tomorrow.

It was finally almost Sunday. She didn’t think she would last much longer. Taylor was about to drive her crazy.

“Isn’t he great?”

She looked over at a very impressed Taylor. “Yes, he is.”

The boy got up and went to perch on the edge of his mother’s desk. He wasn’t thrilled about coming to work with his mother on Saturday, but it was better than going to the golf course with his grandfather, at least when the older man played with his buddies.

“Mom, are you sure Clark isn’t my daddy?”

“I’m sorry, honey, but yes. I’m sure.”

“Couldn’t we just say you were wrong?”

“Oh, Taylor. We can’t expect Clark to step in and be your father. I know you feel a bond with him because he’s the only consistency you’ve had in your life, but he knows he’s not your father, too.”

“Mommy, is he the baby’s father?”

“No. Dan is.”

“Then why does Dan say Clark is?”

“He’s convinced Clark and I had an affair.”

“What’s an affair?”

Lois’ mouth drew into a quirk. She had made this mess, so now how did she explain it? “An affair is when you go see someone when you’re only supposed to be seeing someone else.”

“You mean, have sex with them?”

“Taylor Samuel Lane! Where did you hear that?”

“Grandpa told me that’s how babies are made.”

“He did, did he?”

“Yep. Said a man and a woman have sex to make babies.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever that is. I take it that it’s when you kiss and sleep in the same bed. Joey’s mom and dad kiss a lot and they have six kids.”

Lois couldn’t suppress the slight chuckle she was holding back. “It’s something like that.” She ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, only one more day.”

“Oh wow! I can’t wait.” The boy was trembling with excitement. “Tell me about him again, Mommy.”

Taylor only used Mommy when he wanted something, Lois reflected. But she would allow him this one. “Well, he’s a year older than me. He graduated from Smallville High and Midwest University…”

“With honors,” Taylor added.

“Yes. He’s a reporter now. He has a wonderful mother and a three and half year old son.”

“Mom, do you think Clark will want to spend time with me now that he has his own son?”

“Taylor, Clark’s not made that way. I know what Dan said to you hurt, but Clark is nothing like Dan. He has a big enough heart for you, too.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You’ll see. Clark is a good man.”

Taylor smiled at her. “Mom, how many hours is it till Sunday?”

She smiled back at him, knowing exactly how he felt. She was almost as excited as he was.

***

Sunday couldn’t come fast enough for Taylor until it actually got there. He was so nervous about seeing Clark again, Lois had to pull over for him to throw up. Her constant reassurance that Clark would love him wasn’t going to satisfy him until he saw the man.

Clark opened the door for Lois as he fought down his own case of nerves. “Hi,” he said with a brilliant smile. It faded when he noticed Taylor was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Taylor?”

“He’s standing at the bottom of the stairs. He’s terrified you won’t like him. He thinks that because you have Jon, you won’t like spending time with him.”

“What? What makes him think that?”

“Well… Dan made a comment to him once about real children and step-children.”

Clark huffed at the mention of Dan’s name. “Come on in. Mom’s in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” He pushed past her and out onto the stoop. His eyes met the terrified brown ones of Taylor, and immediately a flush ran through him. It was almost like he was seeing his own child again after so long. Taylor was taller, big for his age. His head of brown hair had been trimmed neatly, and he looked a lot like his mother. Clark stepped slowly down the stairs until he was in front of the boy.

“You sure have grown.” Taylor was shaking as he watched Clark. “The last time I saw you, you’d just started wearing skivvies.” He could still remember that little guy, running around in nothing but his underwear.

“M…M…Mom says you… you potty trained me.”

“I did.” Clark kneeled in front of the scared little boy, almost as scared himself. “I also bought you the coolest little britches.”

“The… the… football ones.”

“Uh huh. Did you know I kept a shirt that belonged to you?” Why did I ever walk away from you? Clark couldn’t help but ask himself. Taylor was absolutely wonderful.

“You… you did?”

“I did. It’s got your handprint on it.” <The same as my heart does.>

“I have the one that was yours. I still wear it, but it’s getting old.”

“We’ll just have to make some new ones.” That earned Clark a slight glow in Taylor’s little eyes. Unable to refrain from reaching out, Clark lifted his hand and touched the dark hair on the boy’s head. “God, I was a fool for leaving you,” he whispered.

“Will… will you l… leave again?”

“Not a chance.” Nothing would ever pry him away from this child again, he decided firmly.

Taylor’s big eyes brimmed with tears. “P… p… promise?”

“I promise.” Clark couldn’t stand it any longer. He drew the boy into his embrace, inhaling deeply where his face was buried against his hair. He cradled the boy’s head when he felt little arms squeeze his neck. This felt just as good as it had been when he kissed Lois and held her. Slowly he could feel his spirit recharge after running on half power for so long. Reluctantly, he drew back to look at Taylor. “Whatta’ you say we go in now?”

Taylor nodded his head and took Clark’s hand to be led up the steps and into his house. When Clark closed the door, the boy was once more shaking.

“Hey, what’s wrong, pal?” Clark knelt in front of him again.

“Do you think Jon will like me?”

Clark smiled and smoothed Taylor’s hair across his head. “Jon will love you. Taylor, your mom told me that you were scared about meeting me because you thought I wouldn’t have time for you now that I have Jon.”

Taylor hang his head. He had been dreading this moment. The moment he knew Clark would tell him Jon was his son, not him. Clark lifted his chin until their eyes locked.

“I have a really big heart. It has enough room for both of you.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up then. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do. Taylor, you were special to me, but I haven’t been a very good friend to you. If you’ll let me, I want to change that.”

“But Jon… He might not like sharing you with me.”

“I think you’ll be surprised. Jon will be glad to get a new friend. He’s kind of shy and doesn’t have any friends since we moved to Metropolis. I was hoping you’d maybe spend a little time with him.”

Taylor smiled at Clark, his eyes sparkling in the light. “I’m a good friend.”

“I thought so. Come on. We’ll go find him.” He stood and took Taylor’s hand. The boy in question met them on the first landing of the stairs. “Taylor, this is Jon. Jon, this is Taylor.”

Jon waved a hand at the older boy. “Hey. My daddy told me ‘bout you.”

“My mom told me about you. And your grandma.”

“Where’s Wois?” Jon asked hesitantly.

“She must be with your grandma.” Until that moment, Taylor had forgotten that he would be sharing his mom just like Jon would be sharing his dad.

Clark led them out into the kitchen where Lois was sitting at the counter talking to Martha.

Jon peered out from behind Clark’s leg to get a look at the woman in front of him.

Lois noticed the small head and smiled. “Hi. I’m Lois.”

“I know. My daddy told me. I Jon.”

“I know.” She held out her hand in invitation for him to come closer.

He eyed the hand for a moment then took it and walked closer to Lois. “You dot a baby in your tummy?”

Lois rubbed her large stomach. “I do.”

“Yeah. I’m going to have a sister,” Taylor spoke up.

Jon looked around at the other boy before he turned back to study Lois again. “You purdy,” he told her.

Lois smiled down at the small boy. “And you’re handsome.”

“Tank you.” Jon looked back down at the hand he held. “Taywer, wanna see my woom?”

“Sure.”

This time it was Jon that smiled. He squeezed Lois’ hand before he let go and faced Taylor. “C’mon.”

“Yeah.” The boy started after Jon but stopped and looked up at Martha. “I’m Taylor. I think we’ve talked on the phone.”

“We have. And you are just as handsome as I pictured you.” Martha couldn’t resist touching his cheek. She received a bright smile before he ran after Jon.

Clark had watched the exchange in silence. “I guess they like each other.”

“Guess so,” Martha agreed then handed Clark a stack of plates to set the places for lunch. It was still a bit before they’d eat, but they would have a cup of coffee and talk for a while first. The adults talked while the boys played upstairs. Later, Martha finished lunch and had everyone settled around the table, and they spent the next two hours getting to know each other.

Clark fielded dozens of questions from Taylor and asked just as many in return. Lois also answered her fair share from both Jon and Clark. Martha was content to listen. Now and then she answered one of Taylor’s questions with a smile. Jon showed off his covered burns, assuring both Lois and Taylor that his wounds didn’t hurt at all. The little group talked as if they’d shared many, many meals together.

***

Lois brought in the last of the dishes from the dining room and set them down on the counter. Clark smiled over at her from where he was washing the other dishes.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. You’re a guest.”

Lois waved him off and took the plate from his hand to rinse. They worked for several moments in silence. “I don’t know what you said to Taylor but thanks.”

“I just told him the truth… that I should have never stopped seeing him and that I want to be a better friend.”

“He was so nervous. I had to stop so he could throw up.”

Clark paused in his task. “No wonder he was stuttering at first.”

“He does that when he’s nervous or scared.”

“It’s not a problem is it?”

“It was for a while. I took him to several specialists and was told the same thing. It was in his head.”

Clark picked up a towel, reached in front of Lois to take up a dish to dry, and leaned against the counter while he worked. “Did something happen to cause it?”

“Yeah… Dan.” Lois shook the last plate she held. She expected Clark to ask another question, but he kept drying his dish. She faced him and continued. “I didn’t know how bad Dan was treating Taylor. Taylor didn’t say anything because he thought it would make me unhappy.”

“Even as a toddler he hated to see you upset.”

“It’s worse now. When I found out about the baby, I was crying in my room one night. He crept in and climbed on my bed with me. He held me like he was a grown man all night. It was morning before he asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he placed his little hands on my stomach while he told me the baby was made for a reason and that he would be the best big brother in the world. I didn’t abort because of that.”

“Sounds like you have one fantastic son.”

Lois cocked her head and looked into Clark’s deep brown eyes. “I like to think you had something to do with that.”

“Me? How?”

“You were around him a lot.”

“But he was so young.”

“Clark, you have a son. You know they never forget how they’re treated.” Lois dropped her head and flicked a nail on the edge of the sink. “That’s why he still stutters when he’s scared.” This time she was referring to the way Dan had treated Taylor.

Clark placed his dish and towel on the counter. “Lois, I’d like to see if I could change that.”

She lifted her eyes back to him. “What?”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to be a better friend. I think Taylor needs one.”

“You know, I told him you were nothing like other men. He had no reason to be nervous about meeting you.”

“I try my best.” Clark smiled that brilliant smile that could make any woman weak in the knees.

“Hey, Clark. Wanna play football?”

Clark turned to see Jon and Taylor waiting patiently for his answer. The older boy held up the ball. “Absolutely.” He started toward the boys but not before he grasped Lois by the arm. “We’ll tackle the man with ball.” He pulled the ball from Taylor’s arm and shoved it into Lois’ hands.

“Yeah!” The boys yelled and started toward Lois.

“No you don’t,” she warned. “I am too big for that.” Clark scooped her up. “Clark!”

“Lois is right, guys. We don’t want to hurt the baby.” Clark carried her out the back door and settled her on one of the lounge chairs on the patio. “But she can be the referee.” Clark took the ball and ran across the yard, two boys trailing behind.

Lois was relieved to have a moment to recover. For a second her naughty side had created images that would make you blush when Clark had lifted her from her feet. She had automatically wrapped her arms around his neck — just to hold on, she told herself. She had leaned in a bit closer, for safety. It had nothing to do with the fact that he smelled…

Taking a deep breath to control her raging hormones, she watched as Clark was used as the tackling dummy. Lois couldn’t resist laughing as she watched Clark swing the boys around like rag dolls. When he thought they had had their fun, he fell dramatically to the ground.

Taylor scooped up the ball in triumph then squealed in delight as he was pounced by the others. He was so good with the boys, she admired as the game continued. She always knew he would be a wonderful father. If her stupid pride hadn’t gotten in the way…

But it was too late to go back now. Too much had happened. And she was sure he wouldn’t trade some of his experiences for anything. He had Jon because of some of the things that had happened over the last few years.

Jon. Lois was in love again. One look and she had been hooked. He was so adorable. And to know he was part of Clark… For a moment she was envious of Lana. That woman had no idea what she had given up.

Lois looked up when Martha spoke.

“He’s a big kid himself.”

“I see.” Lois smiled over at the woman. She and Martha had spent hours talking over the last few months. The older woman told Lois how alone she felt when Jonathan died. She spoke of how Clark and Jon helped keep her broken heart from falling apart. In an instant Lois made a decision she felt would give this woman back a bit more meaning to her life.

“Martha, how would you like to help me out when the baby comes?”

“What?”

“I’ll go back to work as soon as I can. I’ll be taking her with me, but my dad’s retiring. I’m taking over the agency. That means a lot more paperwork and tons of phone calls. I thought maybe the baby would fair better with someone who could give her a little TLC a few days a week. I’m pretty sure you can handle that.” Oh, she had no doubt Martha could handle that. Her daughter would be so loved and cared for.

“Lois, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it. As many or as few days as you want. I’ll provide a car or a driver. You can have free reign at my home and with the baby.”

“And Taylor? What about him? I couldn’t leave him out.”

Lois smiled even brighter then. Leave it to Martha to say something like that. “My children are your children. And I couldn’t pay you enough. Good caregivers that love your children are really hard to find.”

Martha looked out at Taylor. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want to start now. Jon would have someone to play with when he’s here, and Taylor could keep me company when Jon’s at his mother’s.”

“You have a deal.” Lois could see the tears welling in the older woman’s eyes. She got up and took Martha into a hug. They were laughing through tears when Clark spoke.

“Hey, you two okay?”

“We’re… fine.” Lois swiped the tears from her face, smiling to show him she meant what she said.

Martha rose, her own tears still spilling from her eyes. “I think I’ll go lie down a while.”

Lois nodded and she and Clark watched her go through the door into the house.

“What was that about?”

Lois turned back to Clark. “She’s going to be working for me.”

“Really?” His brows rose into his hair.

“That’s not right. She’s agreed to come love my children.”

“Mom’s gonna take care of Taylor and the baby?” Clark asked and Lois nodded. “What happened to you taking them to work?”

“Well, Daddy’s retiring, and I’ll be taking over. With the added pressure I just feel that they need a little extra care.”

Clark smiled and placed a hand on her arm. “You couldn’t have picked a better person to do that.”

“I know. If they turn out anything like you, I’ll be able to die a happy woman,” she told him softly and watched as his smile faded a bit, and his eyes took on a new shine.

“Wow. I believe Lois Lane just paid me a compliment or my mom.”

She laughed and hooked her arm around his. “Buy a woman something to drink, would you?” Wise guy, she thought. Why had she stayed away from him? She could literally feel her heart repairing itself. If she had known… Clark could have erased those insecurities created by Claude.

He still could, she pointed out to herself. Just let him.

“You got it.” He smiled and walked her back into the kitchen for some iced tea. And she gave up the last bit of hesitation about developing a relationship with this man.

***

Lois didn’t realize just what she had done by asking Martha to look after her children. Not only had she gained a loving caregiver, she had gained a wonderful friend as well.

The two women discussed Martha’s new position later in the afternoon, agreeing for the older woman to start the following day. There was still a few weeks left in the school year, so Lois would drop Taylor off at school each morning and Martha would pick him up in the afternoons. From there they would play it by ear. Martha explained that with children there should never be a ‘plan’. Just love them, she had said. Lois had no doubt that’s what the older woman would do.

The following morning, Lois couldn’t help but grin as she listened to her son rattle on and on about Clark, Jon, and Martha. He was ecstatic to have a new sitter. He would go to the brownstone on Hyperion after school that afternoon, and he could hardly wait. Lois had to fill out the necessary paperwork at Taylor’s school to allow Martha to retrieve the boy, which she did with a smile.

Lois made it to work with a warm smile as her thoughts stayed seated with the people from the day before. She and Taylor had ended up staying well past dinner time. They had all cooked together, cleaned up, then settled in the living room to play a game. God, it had felt so good. It had been all she could do to tear herself and Taylor away, so the boy could get some sleep. She found herself as anxious as Taylor for her next trip to Hyperion Avenue.

She pushed the door open to her office and almost wanted to leave again, her good mood washing away the instant she laid eyes on her visitor.

“What are you doing here?”

The man smiled smugly as he leaned further back in his chair, feet propped up on Lois’ desk. “Nice to see you, too, pumpkin.”

“What do you want, Dan?” Lois pushed his feet from her desk on her way around the furniture.

“Okay.” Dan straightened in his chair and pulled some papers from his jacket. “What the hell is this?”

Lois took up the papers to read them briefly. “It’s the paternity acknowledgement for your baby.”

“Oh please. You expect me to sign this crap?”

“Dan, the baby’s yours, and you know it. And I don’t give a damn whether you sign them or not. The insurance company had to send them because I listed you as the father.”

“Well, un-list me. I am not signing a piece of paper that says I’m some kid’s father when I’m not.”

Lois took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to get into this with Dan again. They had been through it all already, and she had decided that if he didn’t want to be the baby’s father, she and her children would be just fine.

“Fine.” She picked up the papers and tore them in half before depositing them in the trash. “Happy?”

Dan glanced down at the pieces in her trashcan. “For now.” Dan grinned as he stood, then reached out and patted Lois’ cheek. “See ya’, honey.”

“I hope not,” Lois commented as she took her seat at her desk. What a way to start the day.

***

Despite Dan’s visit, it had been the best two weeks Lois could have imagined. Having Martha care for Taylor was already the best decision the young woman had ever made. Lois had heard countless times what a great time her son was having in his new environment. When he and Martha were alone, they would often stop for a treat and take a walk. Taylor told her that Martha thought it was important for growing boys to get lots of sunshine and fresh air. When Jon was with them, they would have a snack on the patio together. Taylor was learning to garden and even knit. The older woman spent as much time as he needed every day to get his homework done. Of course, she would help him discover the answers to his many questions— never directly providing the way. ‘I have to discover stuff for myself’, he said. Another pearl of Kent wisdom. Her children were so blessed to have someone like Martha caring for them.

One of Taylor’s favorite subjects was Clark. He told Lois that three times during the first week the man had come home and spent the rest of the evening talking and playing with him and Jon. The second week he took them to the park, out for pizza, and to the arcade. Each night when Sam picked his grandson up, Clark had warm hugs and kisses for the boy, along with promises to see him later. And there was a phone call each night from Clark to tell the boy to have sweet dreams.

Taylor wasn’t the only one that seemed to be taken with Clark. Lois had eaten dinner a few nights with the small group that was quickly beginning to seem like her extended family. Every minute she was in the presence of her one time friend, she found herself at a loss. She was lost in thought and speech. Clark was so much like the man she had known so long ago and so much more. The few years since they had seen each other, he had grown up even more. She was starting to truly appreciate the man he had become.

And thinking about Clark reminded her of every feeling she had ever had for him. He moved her in a way no man ever had. She had thought it was because she was so young and lonely. No chance. Seeing him again and spending a little time with him only reminded her that he was male… all male. And she was definitely attracted.

Lois had told herself the things she was feeling should be placed in the back of her mind. Sure, she and Clark had shared that fantastic kiss at the charity banquet. He had kissed her at the hospital, and when they had gone out, he had kissed her goodnight at the end of the evening. Since then there had been some heated glances, but he hadn’t attempted to kiss her again. Lois wondered if she had read Clark all wrong. One thing she did know was that she hadn’t read her feelings wrong.

Maybe it was best that they remain just friends, she reminded herself when the baby made her presence known. What man in his right mind wanted to get involved with a woman about to deliver another man’s baby? Yes, friendship with Clark was best.

But damn it to hell, how did she explain that to her heart? And to her libido? If she had thought Clark was handsome before, she had been sadly mistaken. He was undoubtedly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His quiet disposition and overwhelming compassion only seemed to make him more desirable. Pregnant or not, she just couldn’t stop the feelings this man was stirring in her. Not to mention his super side. In that suit… She could probably start a fire she got so heated thinking about him.

Lois fought the immediate attraction as long as she could. In a moment of pure heated desire, she lifted her phone and dialed the Daily Planet.

***

“Clark Kent?”

“Hi. Busy?”

Clark smiled when he heard the soft voice on the line. He had been trying not to think about her so he could get some work done. “Not really. Doing some paperwork. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight?”

He took a deep breath before he answered. “I think that would be great.”

“Good. Should I pick you up?”

“A woman secure in who she is. I think I could get used to that.” He and Lois laughed softly. “I have to finish this work, so I won’t have to look at it tomorrow.”

“Okay. How about I pick you up there at seven?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“See you then.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Clark replaced the receiver with a smile. He was going on another date with Lois Lane… finally. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t asked her out again. There just seemed to be something in her eyes that told him she had too much on her plate to mix in a budding relationship. He wanted to ask her if he could help in any way but didn’t want to scare her off either. Lois would talk when she was ready, and he could wait. He had waited this long after all.

***

Lois surveyed the newsroom of the Daily Planet as she exited the elevator. It had been years since she had been there. She suggested picking Clark up just so she could see it again. This place was where she had buried many of her childhood hopes and dreams. It was bittersweet to be back again and truly ironic that she was interested in a reporter. She spotted the man she was here for and smiled. He seemed to sense her presence because he looked up and met her gaze with a brilliant smile of his own.

Clark continued to watch Lois until she had made her way to his desk. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” She couldn’t help the wide grin on her lips. She felt like a giddy teenager on her first date.

Clark just looked at her for a brief moment, quickly losing himself in her deep eyes. Finally he seemed to realize they weren’t alone and glanced around the newsroom. “Guess it’s been a while since you were here?”

“Yeah.” Lois’ eyes fell on the desk just in front of Clark’s— it had been hers. “Not much has changed though.”

“A few newer computers.”

“Yeah.” Lois moved around to glance at his screen. She raised her brows when she saw it held a picture of a cartoon character. “Gee, Clark, didn’t know you were so busy.”

Clark chuckled softly. “Actually it’s research.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Perry asked me to look into an education website for him.” He tapped a few keys, then his monitor went black. “Long story.” He stood and gathered his jacket. “Ready?”

“Yep.” She smiled and walked next to the handsome man as he led the way to the elevator. Neither missed the strange looks they received from some of the staff, which made her grin wider. That’s right ladies, she thought, he’s leaving with me.

***

“So…” Lois traced a finger around the top of her glass. She and Clark had shared a wonderful dinner and moved into the bar for a drink. Of course, hers was iced tea. “Would I be crossing the line if I asked about Jon’s mother?”

Clark swallowed the mouthful of wine he had just taken and replaced the glass on its coaster. “I thought Mom would have told you about her.”

“Your mom and I don’t talk about you very much.”

“Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“I guess… I guess Martha feels I should hear about you from you first.”

“Ahh… sounds like Mom.” Clark leaned over on the bar. “Her name is Lana Lang, but you knew that. She and I were high school sweethearts. We drifted apart after graduation, but there never was anything stronger than attraction. We both moved on.” He took another sip of his drink. “When I left Metropolis, I only stayed in LA for a few weeks before I went to Australia. From there it was Japan, Russia, Africa. I was in Rome when I got the call about my father. I flew home.”

“And stayed to help out?”

“I had to. Mom and Dad have given me so much. Staying there was the least I could do.”

“I forget you’re adopted. You and Martha interact better than biological parents and children do.”

“Love has nothing to do with biology.”

“That’s so true. You’re also proof it has nothing to do with race either.” Clark had to smile at that one. Lois was right. Martha and Jonathan Kent could have cared less what planet he was from. To them he was just their son.

Lois lifted her glass for another drink. “Okay. You stayed to help out.”

“And I ran into Lana again when she came home for her parents’ anniversary party. The attraction was still there for both of us I guess. I know it was for me. She’d filled out in all the right places.” His eyes twinkled, and Lois couldn’t help but smile. “Anyway, she told me she was moving home. She’d had too much to drink, and I was a little more depressed than I thought I was. We drove up to Rocky Cove, and one thing led to another. She didn’t want to stop it, and I just didn’t.”

Clark downed the remainder of his wine. “She left for France again the next day. She later told me she would probably have said anything to get me to sleep with her that night.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I got over it and moved on… until she called two months later and said she was pregnant. I found out then that I never really knew Lana. There were three more that could have been the father.”

“Double ouch.”

“She told me she was planning to have an amnio procedure because of a history of birth defects in her family and that paternity testing could be done as well. Of course, I freaked out.”

“Because of those special genes?”

“Yeah. Mom suggested I do a little research on my own first. I did, and it turned out the testing they do for paternity is pretty restrictive.”

“It was safe?”

“Safe enough for me to remain anonymous.”

Lois nodded. “So you had the test?”

Clark agreed with a nod of his own. “Lana was hoping Jon belonged to one of the other guys— told me as much. When it came back he was mine, she told me she was going to abort. I’m still not sure how I convinced her not to do it. But she agreed. We tried to make a life together for Jon’s sake; lived together for a while; broke up and got back together. We were living together— again— when I saw you at the airport that day. After I checked in at the hotel in Chicago, I flew home to help Mom finish packing for the move to Metropolis. It took me months to convince her to come live with me.”

“She told me.”

Clark nodded and continued. “Lana and Jon were in Smallville seeing her parents because she was going to England for a photo shoot. She announced she was leaving that night and was taking Jon. We had a fight, and I refused to let him go.”

“What did she do?”

“She left. A couple of weeks later she had formal custody, and I had to turn him over to her. It took three months, but I finally got visitations. She countered with a suit for sole custody on the grounds that I’m an unfit father.”

“Oh, Clark. I had no idea.”

“She’s postponed the hearing twice. We were supposed to have the final hearing the week after Jon was burned. When I called the emergency hearing, the judge pushed back the date until next month. Now it seems Lana may drop the custody suit.”

“Why?”

“I went to pick him up this morning and found him in a soiled pull-up, drinking warm milk, and eating cereal from the box. He’d gotten his own breakfast because his mother was entertaining a man in her bedroom.”

“No?”

Clark nodded. “It was two hours before she realized he was gone. She didn’t even have the decency to call and check on him. Her lawyer contacted mine and said Lana would be out of the country on a shoot for the next two months. The hearing was rescheduled, and I get to keep my son. I called and asked her what she was up to. All she said was that she thought I’d be pleased that Jon was going to be staying with me.”

“How could she just let him go like that?”

“I don’t know.” Clark shifted to face her. “Jon has really come out of his shell since we came here.” He shook his head slightly. “More importantly, since he’s met you and Taylor. He’s always been so withdrawn and shy. I saw him hug you last night. You’re the only one he’s blessed like that besides me and Mom.”

“Well then, I feel special.” She covered her heart with her hand.

“You should. I know it sounds too far out there, considering he’s only known you a couple of weeks, but he’s crazy about you.”

“I feel the same about him.” Clark watched as she emptied her glass. Was that a little anxiety he saw in her eyes? “Does he… hug Lana?” She asked after a moment, and Clark realized that wasn’t anxiety. It was uncertainty. She was unsure of her relationship with Jon.

“No. Lana is not the hugging type.”

“Oh, Jon,” she said in a low voice. She looked away from Clark, but he could still see her battle with her emotions.

“Want another drink?” He asked, wanting to change the subject as much as he wanted to prolong the night. He had had a good time and didn’t want the night to end.

“Why, Mr. Kent, are you trying to keep me in the bathroom until this kid’s born?”

“No. I’m trying to prolong the night,” he answered quite honestly. Her smile faded as they stared at each other. He had certainly been right in his first assessments of Lois. There was something going on with this woman, and he wanted to be the one to help her with whatever she felt she needed. “Your turn,” he asked, hoping she would tell a bit of her story.

“What?”

He hesitated briefly before he said, “I know about Taylor’s dad.” He didn’t want to push, but he just wasn’t sure he could keep from asking any longer.

Lois stilled. Clark could tell she wasn’t exactly sure how to answer him. Maybe he had pushed her too far. She would talk when she was ready. And he had waited this long on this woman. What was a little more time?

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” he told her as he pushed his glass back. If she wouldn’t talk to him, he might as well order another drink. But she leaned over and placed a hand on his, effectively stopping him from moving.

“No. I think I should but not here. Let’s go back to my place. I’ll fix some coffee.”

“O- kay,” Clark replied slowly as he saw the anguished look on her face. It was apprehensive, to say the least. He couldn’t imagine why Lois felt she should tell him about the baby’s father, but to be alone with her a little longer, he would go listen.

***

“Nice,” Clark commented as his eyes roamed Lois’ home. It was the first time he had been to the two-story house on Riviera in the exclusive Lakeside Plantation. “Lois Lane has done well.”

She smiled over at him as she prepared the coffee maker. “I felt it was time to spend a little of that money I make. It was a divorce present to myself.”

“Divorce present? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“Yeah, well, some people go partying when their divorce is final. Others have meaningless sex with strangers. I bought a house.” She shrugged with a small smile on her lips.

“You always did have to do things your way.”

She laughed as she made her way into the den. She kicked her shoes off at the end of the sofa and draped her suit jacket on a chair. “Sit down. I don’t bite. At least not hard,” she mumbled as she eased onto the cushion.

Clark smiled at her comment. He wondered if he should remind her that he could hear her. She drew a leg under her bottom and faced Clark.

“Dan is the baby’s father.”

“I kinda’ thought so.” He had both hoped he was wrong and prayed he wasn’t. And he still hadn’t figured out the reasoning behind that.

“That’s not the half of it.”

“Guess not. He hasn’t been around.”

“Probably won’t either.” Lois took a deep breath. “When I saw you at the airport, I told you Dan and I had been trying to reconcile. Don’t ask me why. It lasted a couple of months. A few weeks after I saw you, I found out I was pregnant. I was shocked. That was the last thing I needed or wanted. I called Dan. To my surprise, he was ecstatic. For the next three months, you couldn’t have asked for a better man. He was even good to Taylor.

“We went shopping for the baby one afternoon and ran into one of Dan’s buddies. He mentioned that he had seen me at the airport that day. He went on to say that he thought Dan and I were separated because he had seen us, you and me, holding hands. Of course, he only did it to piss me off. He, the friend, never really liked me. From then on, Dan was convinced that you and I had had an affair.”

His brows raised in surprise. “What?”

“Hmmm… He thinks this baby is yours. Clark, I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“You don’t deserve people thinking those things about you.”

“They’ve thought worse.” Clark leaned forward on his knees. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I don’t know.” She looked away for a moment then back at him. “Yes, I do. I was scared that it would freak you out, and you’d leave.”

Clark reached out to place a hand on Lois’. “I’m not leaving, not this time.”

She looked relieved. Had this been one of the things that had been bothering her? “Well, at least he’s not planning on making an issue out of it… at the moment. I saw him a couple of weeks ago. He’d gotten the paternity acknowledgement from the insurance company. We fussed a few minutes before I tore the papers up and threw them in the trash.”

“Good for you.”

“Good for me? Clark, I’m barely twenty-seven years old, and I already have two children by two different fathers. Neither child has a relationship with their father, and it doesn’t appear that’s going to change.”

“Lois, you’re a great mother.”

“I know that logically. But irrationally… well…” She closed her eyes to shut out the tears behind her lids. “Sometimes I have dreams that he’ll just take her away after she’s born.”

“That who’ll take her? Dan?” Clark asked and she nodded. “Lois, Dan is not going to take your baby away from you.”

“I know.” She rubbed her face and smiled. “It’s just really hard sometimes.”

“I know.”

She looked up at him. “I guess you would. Lana’s pretty much put you through hell, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah. It’s only because I’ve let her. But… Could I ask your opinion on something?”

“About what you should do about Lana?”

“Yes. Do you think I’m doing the right thing by trying to keep my son from his own mother?”

“Are you trying to keep him from his mother? Or are you trying to keep him safe?”

“I like to think I’m keeping him safe.”

“Answer this: Do you have any objections to her getting visits with him?”

“No. I want her to see him. Thing is she doesn’t seem to want to.”

This time Lois put her hand on his. “Clark, that’s something you can never change.”

He covered her hand with his other one. “Just like you can’t change how Dan feels,” he said softly.

She smiled. “You’re good, Kent.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he said jokingly.

Lois laughed at his expression. “At least I have my best friend back.”

“You do,” he confirmed with a squeeze to her hand. And she could have so much more, if she would only give the word.

“And you’re sure Dan’s belief in our affair doesn’t bother you?”

“It doesn’t bother me.” He squeezed her hand in his again. “How ‘bout that coffee?”

“And maybe you can tell me about Superman?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed. He had wanted to talk with her about his super persona long before now but patiently waited for her to ask. He watched as she smiled, withdrew her hands, and went to get the coffee.

He had also known something else was on her mind. If he had known it was Dan, he would have relieved her of those fears long ago. Clark wasn’t at all concerned about Dan or what he thought. As long as he knew what Lois thought, that was enough for him. Things could be much worse than being mistaken for fathering the baby of the woman who had once again worked her way back into his heart.

That was slightly laughable, Clark thought, since he was beginning to believe Lois had never been pushed from his heart to begin with. There was just no way one could know a woman like Lois and not fall helplessly and completely in love. There was also no way to go back once you’d fallen either. He might have fought it for so long, but he could see now it had been useless to try and stop the pull.

***

Clark couldn’t stop thinking about what Lois had told him. Dan had never been his favorite person, but he had even less respect for the man now— if that was possible. Dan had always believed that he and Lois were more than just friends. It seemed that hadn’t changed. And Clark had always believed that Dan used his feelings for Taylor to manipulate him into leaving. With what Lois told him, now he was sure.

The thought that Lois was afraid he would leave again also didn’t sit well with him either. He wasn’t going anywhere. This was his home. He had been sure of that once and left it behind. He could never do that again.

And the baby… Dan thought she was his. When he got home from Lois’, he had been unable to sleep. He had stared up at the ceiling for hours wishing Dan was right.

<That’s crazy, Clark. You’ve only just gotten Lois back into your life two weeks ago.>

But was that true? Did he have Lois back? He had been slightly apprehensive about his super side. After all, he had been super his entire adult life, which meant he had kept that fact from her before. She hadn’t seen it that way though, telling him they both had skeletons in their closet. He came away from their date fairly certain their friendship was firmly solidified. And from what he felt when they had kissed goodnight, she might be much more. Still he didn’t want to ruin things this time. He couldn’t take another heartbreak.

He thought about the new little life that would be coming into this world soon. How could her father not want to be part of her life? He would be happy if she was his. Clark smiled a sad smile. He guessed it was okay to dream a little. He just hoped he didn’t let his mouth spout something he would regret later.

He should focus on his renewed friendship and his budding relationship with an absolutely fantastic woman. They had spent nearly two hours talking about his super side. Lois had been amazed at what he could do. And she had insisted on numerous displays. She was the first person, aside from his parents, that he had shared his secret with. It had felt wonderful to share who he really was with her. If there was any chance for them to have a lasting relationship, they had to be completely open and honest with one another. Countless nightmares had been dispelled when the only thing Clark had seen in Lois’ eyes as he laid himself open was respect and admiration. She had also told him as much. She respected him for taking the gifts he had been given and using them to help others. She had also astonished him when she told him she was also a little envious as well. He had learned that she would love to be able to help others the way he did. That, she had admitted, was one reason she had agreed to write the Lex Luthor biography.

After his confessional, the conversation had switched to their interests in writing. Clark wasn’t the least bit surprised to learn just how talented Lois was. It seemed she succeeded in everything she did. He read a rough draft of a novel she had started and promised to share some of his own writing with her.

Over the next couple of weeks he managed to get Lois to have dinner with him three more times. They went to a movie and even took the boys to the fun park. Clark grilled hamburgers and hot dogs to celebrate the end of the school year, which seemed to impress Taylor to no end. Lois also shared dinner at the brownstone with them a few times, and Clark took take-out to her house one evening when she got back in town really late from a business trip. He and Lois were finally getting to know each other the way he had wanted them to before, and it felt so right.

***

Clark drudged into the kitchen for breakfast. He needed to hurry because he was running late. He had gotten in late the night before. Lois had been out of town for two days on a trip to take some classes in preparation for her new job. He had brought Chinese take-out to her house after she had called and informed Martha that it would be late before she got in, being as she’d had to drive this time around. Her doctor had grounded her until after the birth. Martha had insisted Taylor stay in bed.

Clark smiled at the sight that greeted him. Two bright eyed little boys were sharing breakfast, and his mother was busy at the stove. This was living, he thought as the door swished closed behind him. Suddenly his day was a lot brighter.

“‘Morning Daddy,” Jon told him happily.

“Good morning.” Clark bent and kissed the top of his head. “And to you,” he told Taylor and kissed his head.

“‘Morning. How was your date with my mom?”

Clark stopped and looked down at the boy. He certainly didn’t waste time, did he? “It wasn’t a date. It was just take-out and conversation.”

“Yeah, yeah. So how was it?”

Clark grinned at the boy. “It was nice… for your information.” He pinched his nose then settled at the table.

“Why was it just nice?”

Taylor’s question made Clark lower the paper he was lifting to read. He looked at a very serious little boy. “What?”

“You said it was nice. Why wasn’t it great? Or fantastic? Or amazing?”

“Taylor, I had a wonderful time with your mother.”

“Wonderful enough to ask her out again?”

“Absolutely. I thought I’d take her to a game on Saturday. Is that all right with you?”

“Not very romantic.”

“And what would you know about romantic?”

“Clark, I’m seven, not blind. My mom really likes you. And I know you like her. I just don’t want you guys to blow it.”

Clark opened his mouth to respond but shut it again. He had almost told Taylor he loved his mother, something he had been denying even to himself until now. “Taylor, I promise I’m going to do everything in my power not to blow it.” And he realized he meant every word. Lois was worth it— all the pain, all the sacrifice, everything he had done and would have to do to finally win her heart.

“I hope not.”

Clark turned to Jon. His comment came out of nowhere. “And I suppose you know what you’re talking about?”

“I wike Wois… wots.”

“So do I.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, glad his son felt the way he did about Lois.

“I think you should take her dancing,” Taylor told him. “She likes to dance.”

“Does she?” Suddenly he realized that maybe he should have asked Taylor long ago about the things his mother enjoyed.

“Yeah.”

“What else does she like?”

“She likes the amusement park, taking long walks, going to the beach, and jazz. She loves jazz.”

“Really?” Clark remembered a lot about Lois, but that wasn’t anything that came to mind.

“Uh huh.”

“And she wikes to weed,” Jon offered. “She weed me a tory. An’ sings.”

“I think they’re on your side,” Martha told Clark with a hand resting on his shoulder. She leaned forward and set down his breakfast.

“Sounds like it. I’m glad.”

“Daddy, I take Wois out?”

Clark smiled over at Jon. “And where would you take her?”

“Da zoo. She wikes cola bears.”

“I think you mean koala. And that would be okay. Tell you what, I’ll ask her out for Saturday, and you ask for Sunday afternoon.”

“‘Kay.” Jon smiled, jumped down, and raced from the room.

Clark noticed Taylor had grown silent, a frown drawn across his face. “Hey you, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

Clark smiled, knowing exactly what was wrong. “How ‘bout I take you up to the state park Sunday and show you how to catch some fish?”

The boy’s face lit up, and he smiled broadly at Clark. “Yeah! That would be too cool. But… I don’t have a rod,” he said, the frown returning.

“We’ll get you one.”

Taylor jumped from his seat and ran into Clark’s arms. “You’re the best, Clark.” He leaned back and offered up a brilliant smile before he disappeared.

Clark chuckled softly. It was funny how things worked themselves out. A few months ago, it was just him, his mom, and Jon. Now it seemed he had a full house and an even fuller heart.

***

Rather than ask Lois out over the phone, Clark decided to go to her office. He stood outside the window of the conference room to watch her in action. She was prepping several agents in the morning meeting and was absolutely breathtaking. She looked up from what she was doing and caught his gaze. He waved and smiled, receiving a smile in return. She resumed her speech, and he stood there, content to simply watch her. After a few minutes the meeting ended.

She stepped through the door and smiled at Clark. “Hey, you. Did you decide to take me up on my offer to come back to work here?”

“Maybe,” he told her. “Gotta minute?”

“Sure. Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I just wanted to ask you something and didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

“Okay. Come to my office.”

He followed her down the hall and into the coveted corner office that had been Sam’s when he had worked there. Clark noticed the changes Lois had made to the room, making it more her own.

“Impressive.” He looked out at the view of the city. “I always loved this view.”

“I know. I love to watch the sun set from here. Taylor and I sit together sometimes to watch it.” She put the folders down she was holding and eased into her seat. “I, ah, had an interesting phone call this morning.”

That got Clark’s attention. He walked over to her desk and perched on the edge. “Really?”

“Yeah. A Mr. Jon Kent called and asked me if I’d like to go out with him on Sunday afternoon.”

Clark smiled broadly. “Looks like you have an admirer.”

“I think so. Anyway, I told him I’d be delighted.” Lois chuckled softly. “It was so cute. When I said yes, he told me I’d have to ride with him and his grandmother because he wasn’t old enough to drive yet.”

Clark laughed with her. “He asked me this morning if it was okay to ask you.”

“He told me. So, I have a hot date Sunday.”

“Then I may be too late.”

“For what?”

“I wanted to take you out Saturday.”

“Two days with two gorgeous men.” She grew silent and her eyes locked with Clark’s. The electricity jumping between them was undeniable. “I, ah, I…” She broke his gaze and looked away. “I don’t think I’m going to apologize for that. I do think you’re… well, you don’t hurt the eyes,” she finished as she looked back up at him with a smile.

Clark smiled back as the heat rose up his cheeks. It was bad enough when people complimented him on his work, but to receive praise over his looks… And from Lois… well, that was… “Thank you. I happen to think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

“Okay then,” she decided and hooked her fingers together on her lap. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes.”

“Whole day or night?”

“Well, I have the day off. Do you think you could put up with me the whole day?”

“I think maybe I’d like to try.”

“Okay.”

“Good. You have about thirty five hours or so to come up with a way to keep me happy for a whole day.”

“I have my work cut out for me then, huh?”

“Yes, sir. I’m not easy to please.”

Clark laughed softly. “I think I’ll take that challenge.” He rose from his seat. “I hate to run. I’ve got a story to get done.”

“Yeah. And I have more paperwork.” She rose to follow Clark to the door.

He stopped and turned to her. “Oh, before I forget. I asked Taylor to go fishing with me while you’re on your date Sunday. Is that okay?”

“He’d love it.”

“I’m looking forward to it myself.” He reached out and squeezed her elbow. “Talk to you later.”

“Okay.” She offered him one last smile before he hurried down the hall. She was still watching the empty space when a co-worker came up.

“You are one lucky gal, Lois.”

“Why’s that?”

“That man is the best looking son of a gun I’ve seen in my life, and he only has eyes for you.”

Lois looked at the woman. “He is good looking, huh?”

“Good looking, successful, nice, and single. What more could you ask for?”

Lois gazed back down the empty hall. “Really good sex,” she said under her breath.

The other woman laughed out loud. “Lois, I have no doubt he’s every bit as good as he looks.”

Lois blushed when she realized the woman had heard her. “Yeah, well, I don’t plan to find out any time soon. Every time I have sex, I get knocked up.” She met the woman’s gaze, and they both burst into laughter. “Maybe not every time,” she relented after a moment.

“Yeah but think of it this way. You can’t get any more pregnant than you already are.”

“You got me there,” Lois agreed, then mentally kicked herself for even thinking along those lines. She wanted a good, strong foundation with Clark on which they could build. She had made her mistakes where he was concerned. She wouldn’t make them again. But then again, she reminded herself, she never had made that mistake with him.

Get a grip, she told herself. What man wants to have sex with a huge pregnant woman?

Lois sighed and returned to her desk to finish her paperwork.

***

Clark rose on Saturday full of excitement and anticipation. He had wracked his brains for things to do with Lois to keep her interested all day. He would start with breakfast at a little café he had found on the pier. He knew Lois loved waffles, and the place had some of the best he had ever eaten.

He trotted up the steps to her house. Today he was picking her up at the front door. He had called her and told her to dress casually and comfortably. He had opted for a nice pair of grey slacks, a black pull over that zipped half way up the front, and loafers. Since his mom had kept Taylor the night before, Lois had been able to sleep in slightly. That had also been part of the date.

He lifted his hand and knocked. A few moments later, Lois answered.

“Hi.”

Clark swallowed. She looked great. Her long hair was down, and it framed her face. She, too, wore slacks. Hers were tan. She had on an open front heavy shirt, burgundy, that matched the blouse underneath. Being pregnant suited Lois. She absolutely glowed. This must be what she had looked like before she had had Taylor.

Clark extended the red rose he held. He had had a tough time deciding on the color of the flower but had finally decided on red. Their friendship was as solid as it was going to get at this point, and he was more than anxious to move their relationship forward. Why not help it along just a bit? “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Instead of going to put it in water, she reached for her bag. “Ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held out his arm for her, and she took it as they left to start their day.

***

Breakfast at the café was great. They laughed and talked about the kids and work. When they were finished, Clark took her to a poetry reading on the pier. Lois sat mesmerized by the wonderful words and the atmosphere. Then it was on to a theater to see a local players group have their final rehearsal before opening night. Clark explained that he knew one of the actors and asked if they could sit in on the performance. Lois thoroughly enjoyed it.

She also enjoyed lunch at the ballpark. They took in a baseball game while munching on hot dogs and drinking soda. Clark listened as Lois explained which players she thought would make the best prospects this season. She listened as he talked about playing in high school and college. He had to promise to play softball on the agency’s team later that fall.

Afternoon winded into evening with the couple drifting through the antique shops in the colonial district. And just in time for sunset, found them at Devil’s Overhang, a cliff that overlooked the ocean. Clark spread a blanket, and they shared a picnic dinner.

With dinner finished, Lois thought the day was over. Clark had other plans as he pulled into the parking garage at the Daily Planet. She thought he was taking her into the newsroom, but he led her in the opposite direction. She was thrilled when they went to one of the jazz clubs that dotted the street. It was also one of the best.

Lois was on cloud nine by the time Clark finally pulled into the drive at her house. He rushed around to open her door and escorted her up her front steps.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?”

“Sure.”

They entered, and Lois went ahead into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Clark flipped on the light in the foyer to look at the pictures that covered the walls.

He was looking at one of him and Taylor that was taken before he left when Lois came back. She glanced up at the photo.

“You two looked good together.”

“It felt good to be together.” His eyes drifted to another photo, one of him and Lois.

She noticed his expression change as he looked at the image. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had stayed?”

“All the time,” he admitted.

Her hand went up to his arm, making him turn to look at her. “I was a fool.”

“Lois…”

“No, Clark. I was. Do you know why I married Dan?”

“I’ve wondered.”

“Because he was safe. He told me from the beginning that he didn’t believe in love. He felt relationships should be based on mutual attraction and interests. I knew I’d never feel the things for him that could one day break my heart. So I married him.”

“What?”

Lois turned and walked back into the den. Clark followed and stopped in the doorway to hear what she was about to say.

“Clark, I thought I was in love with Claude, and he nearly tore my heart apart. I know now that what I felt was just teenage infatuation, but the principal of the thing had been embedded. I was terrified that if I felt something, anything for another man, he’d hurt me the same way. I’d dated a few men after Claude, and all of them were the same.” She turned to face him. “Until you.”

She approached him to stand a foot in front of him. “I felt things for you that were more powerful than what I felt for even Taylor.”

“Lois, are you saying…?”

“Yes. I was just as much in love with you as you were with me.”

“Then why marry Dan?”

“Like I said, I didn’t want to get hurt. My mind kept telling me that one day you’d break my heart if I trusted those feelings.”

“Oh, Lois. You should have told me this.”

“I know. God knows I know that.” She twirled around again and hugged her arms to her body. “I have kicked myself a hundred times over. I let my irrational sense of logic drive you away. And Dan… God, that was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I mean, what was I thinking?” She faced Clark, her hands animated now as she talked. “Sex is not worth Dan Scardino.”

“Is that all it was?”

“Sex? No. Not all. I mean, the sex was good, but he did have his moments. He could be sweet and romantic. I was just too stupid to see that was how he got what he wanted. I think to him that’s all it was… sex. He told me he asked me to marry him so he could take care of Taylor. Boy, was I a fool to believe that one.”

Clark frowned at the thought of Taylor ever being hurt.

Lois stopped and looked deeper into Clark’s eyes. “Do you know Taylor has asked me if you were his father?”

“What?” He was thrown slightly by her change of subject.

“He asked me right before he met you again if I was sure. He even asked if we could just pretend it was true.”

“I know how he feels,” Clark told her.

She went to him again. This time she placed her palms on his chest. “Can you ever forgive me for separating you two?”

Clark trailed his fingers through her hair. “Lois, there’s nothing to forgive. I should have been man enough to stay in his life. At the time, I thought I was doing him a favor. I didn’t want to cause any problems.”

“And now? What do you want now, Clark?”

His hand stilled in her hair, his eyes bore into her soul, and he lifted his other hand to hold her face as he softly kissed her. His lips moved on hers gently and slowly as he sought to learn this woman as intimately as possible. She pushed her arms up around his neck and licked his lips, asking invitation into his mouth, which he gave permission for willingly. He opened his mouth and met her tongue touch for touch with his own. His hands smoothed down over her back, his arms surrounding her body as he continued to work his mouth over hers.

Needing air, she broke the kiss. They stood, looking at each other, and panting. A second later they were trying to devour one another. This time the kiss lasted for a long time. Clark drew back and rested his head against hers when the emotions between them became too much for him to handle.

He held her face again and with his eyes closed he said, “I want everything it could have been.” His voice was a whisper.

Lois drew her hands back up to rest on his chest. “So do I,” she admitted. But she pushed Clark away. He stared at her with a slightly hurt expression. “Clark, too much has happened for that now. We could never go back.”

“I know that, Lois.”

She started pacing, one arm clutched around her body while the other waved in the air. “Before it could have been wonderful. There was just me and Taylor. But now, after Dan, things are so much more complicated. It’s not two of us anymore. I went out and got myself pregnant again, so now I have two kids, by two different men. Real classy.”

“Lois, what are you babbling about?”

She turned back to face him. “I’m saying that asking you to have any kind of relationship with me is foolish.”

“Why? Because of the kids?”

“Yes, Clark, because of the kids. When I made the decision to have this baby, I knew I’d be sealing my fate as a single mother and woman for the rest of my life. No man, no matter how wonderful he is, not even you, could possibly want to get involved with a woman and two kids. Not to mention the fact that one isn’t even here yet. And, I might add, her father believes she belongs to you.”

Clark couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips. She was amazing.

“What are you smiling at? This is not funny!”

“No, it’s not. But, Lois, you’re wrong.” He closed the distance between them and lifted her hand in his. “I do want to get involved with you… and both of your kids.” He rested a gentle hand on her stomach. He had wanted to touch her stomach so many times but was afraid to ask.

“How could you, Clark? Two kids.” She held up her fingers to illustrate her point. “That’s twice the…”

“What, Lois? Trouble? Because I don’t see them that way. They didn’t ask to be born, but they’re here. And they don’t change the way I feel about their mother.”

“What about tomorrow? Or the next day? They’ll still be here.” She just wouldn’t let this drop.

“And Jon? What about him?” She scrunched her brows at him. “He’ll be here tomorrow, too.” When she acted like she didn’t understand his question, he continued, “If it were just me and Jon, would you bow out of a potential relationship because of him?”

“Well, no.”

“Then why would I want to bow out of one because you have Taylor and a baby on the way? I happen to be crazy about your son. And I know I’ll be crazy about this one.” He rubbed her mound gently, exciting a moving frenzy underneath his fingers, causing him to smile up at Lois. “They’re part of you.”

Lois lowered her head, then turned and walked to the mantle. “And what happens when Dan makes waves?” she asked, refusing to look at him. “He will. That’s how he is. He’ll eventually bring up paternity issues? Will you still be crazy about me and her when that hits the fan?”

“Absolutely.”

“How about when Dan gets visitation rights and carries her off every other weekend?”

Clark stepped up behind her and grasped her arms. “Lois, I never stopped loving you.”

That made her turn to look at him. “What?”

“I have loved you from the moment I met you. You rejecting me so many times, your marriage to Dan, and all the time in between hasn’t dampened how I feel one bit. I tried not to love you. God knows I’ve tried. I wanted to just get on with my own life. You certainly had yours.” He lifted his fingers to play in her hair, relieved to finally have that revelation out in the open. It felt as if the weight of world had been lifted from his shoulders. “But I couldn’t. And that won’t change. Paternity tests, beautiful babies, Dan Scardino, none of it will change how I feel about you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I just want to spend time with you and your kids. I want to show you that this man is very different from any you’ve ever known.”

Lois rested her palms against his chest. “I didn’t stop loving you either,” she whispered. They stared at each other for a long moment, exchanging in that heated look more than they would ever be able to say aloud. “I guess this changes everything, huh?”

“Well, it sure makes them a lot better. At least it does for me,” he said hesitantly.

“And for me,” she told him, easing more of his anxious nerves.

“Good.” He smiled brightly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “As much as I hate to do this, I’m gonna say good night.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to do it at all.”

“And that would be bad?” She smiled at him with a gleam in her eyes.

“No, not bad. Just… premature.”

“Why? Because I’m pregnant.”

“Lois, no. I happen to think you’re beautiful. This…” He put his hand on her stomach again. “…has nothing to do with it.”

He took her hand and led her to the door. “You told me some things about yourself tonight that I fully intend to disprove.”

“Huh?”

“I want to show you that there is one man that will never break your heart… at least not intentionally.” He cupped the side of her face. “There’ll be plenty of time for everything.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Besides, you have to get some rest. You have a hot date tomorrow.”

Lois laughed softly. “I’m almost as nervous about that as I was ours.”

Clark’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Clark, Jon sees me as the mother he’d like to have.”

“And that bothers you?”

“No. It… warms my soul. I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“You’re not.” He leaned in for another sweet kiss. “Mmmm,” he groaned as he stepped away from her. “I had a great time today.”

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

“I don’t know, should you?”

She placed her palms on his chest again. “Clark, today was incredible. And you definitely kept me interested.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He rubbed the backs of her hands where they rested on his body. It felt so good for her to touch him and touch her whenever he felt the urge. He had wanted this for so long.

“I did. And since it went so well, I was wondering if you’d be my date for the sports awards banquet next Friday?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t pass up a chance to see you in an evening gown.” His appreciative gaze swept down her body, the gleam conveying that he was remembering the last time he had seen her dressed that way.

“Ooo, and you in a tux.” She gripped his shirt and pulled him down for another kiss.

Clark smiled against her lips. When she pulled back, she shoved him toward the door.

“Go! Hurry.”

He laughed as he opened the door but stopped to say something else. “Ah… Mom told me you asked her to be your coach in the delivery room.”

“Yeah. Daddy would pass out.”

Clark smiled as he thought about Sam Lane hitting the floor at the sight of blood. Since Lois had told him Dan thought he was the baby’s father and he had lain awake all night thinking about the unborn child, he had wanted to ask Lois if he could be her coach. To share that with her would mean so much. What better way to prove to her he meant all those things he said about wanting to be with her?

“What is it, Clark?” Lois asked, apparently knowing there was something else on his mind.

“Well, I was wondering…”

“Would you like to be my coach?”

His eyes met hers, relieved she knew what was wrong with him. He couldn’t find the words to ask her aloud. “Yeah.”

Lois smiled brightly. “Sure it wouldn’t bother you?”

Clark lifted his hand to her belly. “Lois, I would love to help you bring this baby into the world.”

She seemed to contemplate that for a moment before she looked at him and said, “And I’d love for you to help.”

Clark smiled, rubbed her stomach one last time, then turned and trotted down the steps to his car. If he stood there a second longer, he wouldn’t be able to leave. And that was a step he wouldn’t take right now. Not that he didn’t want to. His body almost ached to be with Lois, but he wanted to prove a point. He wanted to show her how incredible her life could be when a man truly loved her.

***

Lois watched until he was out of the drive, a sappy smile on her. As she pushed the door closed, the baby made her presence known. Rubbing a hand over her protruding mound, a flash of apprehension ran through her. She had just agreed to share an incredibly intimate and meaningful experience with Clark. How could he possibly want to do something like that? This wasn’t his baby, yet he was the one who had asked to be her coach. Was it wise to agree? Especially when they had only just found one another again. Or had they finally, after all this time and so many bad choices, decided to just be honest?

And honest she had been. She wasn’t sure she had done the right thing tonight by telling Clark how she felt. They had only been on a handful of dates and around each other for a few weeks. But apparently Clark felt it was the right thing to do. He had been the first to admit his feelings, after all. He had also confirmed what she had known years ago— Clark had indeed been in love with her.

Confused, anxious, apprehensive and scared to death, Lois sank to the sofa. Maybe all of this was too soon. Then again, they had wasted five years. This might not be fast enough. The one thing she was glad for was that he had ended the evening gracefully. Her hormones might be raging out of control, but there was no way she would jeopardize their relationship a second time.

***

“That’s gross,” Taylor told Clark as he watched him put a worm on a fish hook.

“It’s not gross. And you have to do this to catch a fish.”

“I’m not so sure I want to.”

“Sure you do. Come on.” He lifted the rod to demonstrate how to cast it. “Just press the button, swing it forward, then let go… of the button, not the rod.”

“Duh,” Taylor said with a smile. He took up his new rod that Clark had let him pick out just that morning. He pressed the button and swung it forward. The line sailed out over the water. “I did it,” he said as the cork landed with a plop.

“Yes, you did.”

“So when will I know I have a bite?”

“When your cork goes under.” Clark pointed out at the little bobber. “Watch.”

“‘Kay.” They fell into a silence after Clark cast his line. Taylor kept glancing up at the man beside him. In his seven-year-old mind, this man was a giant. “Clark?” he ventured after a while.

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you something.”

He turned to the boy and waited for him to go on.

“I wanted to do something that was wrong… to you.”

“What?”

“I wanted to do something that would have been really wrong, and you would have known it.”

“What, Taylor?”

“I wanted Mommy to say that you were my daddy.”

Clark’s hand came up to cup his face. “She told me.”

“I’m sorry. I just…” He looked out at his cork. “Sometimes I just wish you were my daddy.”

Clark turned his face to look at him. “Sometimes, I wish I was, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it okay that I love you like you’re my daddy?”

Clark pushed his hair back off his head. “Is it okay if I love you like you’re my son?”

That earned Clark a brilliant smile. Taylor turned back to his cork just in time to see it sink out of sight. “Oh wow! I got one!”

“Pull back on your rod and turn the handle… fast.” Clark watched with as much excitement as Taylor was displaying in reeling in his catch. When it was close enough to the bank, Clark pulled up the small fish.

“Cool!” Taylor held the line so he could get a better look. “This is great.”

Clark smiled and took the fish off the hook, then demonstrated how to hold it. Taylor stuck a small thumb in its mouth and held it proudly while Clark snapped his picture.

“Wow! My first fish. Clark, did your dad take you fishin’ when you were a boy?”

“Yep. And hunting and swimming. We used to skinny dip in the pond on the back of our property.” Taylor giggled at that. “Should we keep that or throw it back?”

Taylor inspected the fish one last time. “Let’s throw him back.”

“Good choice.” Clark watched as the boy stood in the edge of the water to release his fish. He put another worm on Taylor’s hook and handed him the rod.

Taylor cast his line and settled back beside Clark. “Clark, this could be the best day of my life.”

Clark wrapped an arm around Taylor’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “Mine, too, Taylor.”

“Hey, will you tell me some stories about your dad?”

“Sure.” Clark shifted and the rest of the afternoon was spent catching fish and talking about Jonathan Kent. Clark’s hero status was growing, and it had nothing to do with his other personality.

***

Clark pulled into the drive of Lois’ house just after dark. They entered through the back door, and Taylor rushed over to his mother where she sat on the floor beside the coffee table helping Jon put a puzzle together.

“Mom, you won’t believe it. It was so cool. I caught bass and brim. And Clark caught a big ole ugly catfish that had whiskers, and he was this big.” The boy’s arms stretched out to show her the ‘whale’ Clark had caught. “And, and I put a worm on the hook. And his guts gushed out. It was gross. And, and we ate fish at this little restaurant for dinner, and it was awesome.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” she told him through a chuckle.

“It was the best. And guess what? Clark’s taking us all to the drive-in in Sherman Thursday night… if it’s okay with you. And, and he said we could go to Smallville to see the farm he grew up on and, and go skinny dipping in the pond.”

Lois’ brows raised, and she shot a glance at Clark.

The man winced slightly. “Ah, Taylor, maybe you shouldn’t tell Mom that part.”

“Well, you did say it. And, and he says he’ll coach my football team this year. Isn’t it great?”

“It is. Now, why don’t you go take a shower? You smell like fish.”

“‘Kay. Hey, Jon.”

“Hey.” Jon looked up at his dad. “Wois say I stay wif her tonight.”

“She did?”

“Uh huh. I get to sweep in her bed.” He smiled over at Lois then looked back up at Clark with a serious expression. “She said you should know dat.”

Clark dropped his head and laughed. Jon was completely unaware of the significance of what he had said. But the implication certainly wasn’t lost on him. He would love to sleep in Lois’ bed, with Lois.

Well, sleep wasn’t exactly what was on his mind.

Lois pulled Jon over to her. “Good boy,” she whispered in his ear. He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Wanna go wait for Taylor to finish up?” He nodded and ran out of the room.

Clark leaned back against the bar that separated the kitchen from the den. “You are evil.”

“You could have stayed, too,” she countered as she sauntered over to him. She wrinkled her nose when she got close. “You smell.”

“Sorry. Guess I should go take a shower.”

“You know, you should do what I do: carry an extra change of clothes in your car.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll start.” They locked gazes and burst out laughing at the irony of the statement. This was the man who wore another outfit under his clothes most of the time. He pushed up and stepped toward the door. “Give the guys a goodnight kiss for me.”

“I will.” He leaned over and touched his lips to hers. He almost forgot his resolve to take things slow but remembered how bad he smelled and pulled back to grin at her. “‘Night.”

“Good night.” She closed the door behind him, then went to find the boys.

***

Clark could feel the numerous eyes on him and the woman on his arm the moment they entered the room. Although her figure was swelled in pregnancy, she looked fabulous. But even Clark wasn’t naïve enough to think that people were looking at them because Lois was beautiful. No. Most knew Lois and knew she was not married. Clark had only come into her life recently so most folks were probably wondering why he would want to put himself in the position of surrogate father. Their attitudes made him angry. When they had been out a few times, they had gotten a congratulatory statement or two. Clark would smile and say a kind thank you, but he could feel Lois tense. Later, she would offer him an apology, which he had always deflected. He hoped she would soon come to trust him when he said he was with her because he wanted to be, kids and all.

They spotted her father and went to say hello.

The sport awards banquet was a huge affair. It boasted some of the biggest names ever to grace the professional arenas of the various sports. The Lane Agency had been a major sponsor for the last several years. They often signed top players as a result of their involvement with the event.

Clark smiled over at Lois’ father dancing with his mom. They had insisted Martha come along tonight because she had been spending so much time with the children. They had hired a sitter and pulled her out the door. Now it seemed she was having a great time.

“Clark?” Lois asked a while later.

“Mmm.” He was barely able to answer her. Dancing so close was beginning to have a serious effect on him.

“I think your mom is having a good time.”

Clark glanced over at her with Sam. “Seems so.” He tucked Lois back against him. “Maybe Sam will get lucky tonight.”

“Clark Kent!”

He drew back to look at her. “What? Lois, our generation did not invent sex.”

“I know that, but they’re our parents.”

“And they have needs and desires just like we do.”

“Just like some of us,” Lois mumbled.

***

Since their heated kisses after their date the weekend before, her desires were all she had been thinking about. Even arguing with herself about this very thing hadn’t helped a bit. Clark had taken her to lunch Monday. They had parted with another slightly passionate kiss. And on Wednesday, he had brought lunch to her office. They had ended up with her straddling his lap and trying to devour him. He had cooled it down before they went at each other on top of her desk. She knew he wanted her, and she certainly wanted him. She just couldn’t understand why he was holding back. Okay… so they still hadn’t been together that long. So what? And she figured it didn’t help that she was a blimp at the moment. What man would want to have sex with a woman that was about to drop any day? But that was Lois’ problem. Her hormones were running wild and being with the man was about to drive her mad. A part of her also wanted him to disprove all of those doubts and fears she had harbored about men for so long.

Clark sighed at her comment. He stepped out of the dance, took her by the arm, and led her onto the balcony. Good, she thought as she followed him. The cool air might help her a bit.

“Lois, I have needs and desires, too.”

“I know. It’s just so frustrating.” Lois walked a few steps away from Clark before turning back. “It’s not like I’m a fanatic or anything. It’s just that you look good… really good.” Her eyes ran over his body as she said that. “… all the time. And I finally admitted how much you mean to me, and my hormones kicked into overdrive, and I just want us to be as close as we can get.”

Clark closed the distance between them and lifted his hand to her exposed neck. She had worn her hair up on her head because she knew the effect it had on him. He had made the mistake of commenting how much he loved seeing her neck. She thought that a little extra enticement certainly couldn’t hurt.

“I want us to be close, too.” He spread her hand out and placed it over his heart. He did the same to her. “I want us as close as we can get in here long before we become close physically. I meant what I said about showing you that I’m not like other men. I want you to feel my love for you before you feel my desire. And believe me, it’s very much there… all the time.”

She smiled at his echo of her earlier words. Their lips met in a warm, gentle kiss that promised so much more in the future that lay ahead. She could feel some of the tension drain away. This was Clark. He wasn’t like the other men who had hurt her.

Clark tucked Lois against his chest and rested his chin on her head. “I love you, Lois.”

“I love you.” She squeezed her arms around him. He said some of the most beautiful things. He had spoken to her that way often lately, spoken of how much she and the children meant to him. She supposed if he wanted to make her feel cherished before they made love, she could indulge him that. It was certainly good for her emotionally fragile state of mind to hear it.

They remained wrapped around one another until they heard the speeches start inside.

***

For the first time in her life, Lois hated her job. She cursed the entire week it took to make the transition from being an agent to becoming CEO. Then Lex called. He was fading fast, and Lois needed to be with him to get the account of his last days for the book. She wasn’t sure why the man had asked her to write his story, but it was promising to be a best seller, and she had made the commitment so she had to follow through with it.

However, nothing could erase the incredible ache in her heart. She wanted to see Clark and Jon. She had barely managed to see Taylor, let alone anyone else. And now even he was mad at her. He had hardly spoken to her after a particularly bad morning a few days ago. He had been trying to tell her something when she had gotten short with him. She had yelled at him, and he had shut himself in his room. When she finally slowed down long enough to get her bearings, she knew there was something horribly wrong.

Taylor still refused to talk to her any more than he had to, so she attempted to call Clark. Martha told her that Lana had come home early, and the hearing for final custody was in a week. To make matters worse, Jon had been at his mother’s for days. Lana was refusing to let Clark see him. This had caused the man to pour himself into his Superman duties when he wasn’t working. He also spent a lot of his time with Taylor. Lois kicked herself for not being there for him. If she was going to make a life with Clark, she had to learn that she couldn’t take without giving.

And she knew without a doubt she wanted to make a life with Clark. She loved everything about him, especially his super side. He was a wonderful writer— his articles in the Planet were top rate, not to mention the things he had written in his journals. He was kind, gentle, compassionate… His sense of humor complimented her fiery side. He cared deeply for others— grieved for those he couldn’t save. His ethics were rock solid. He was crazy about her son, and apparently he felt the same way about her daughter. He was gorgeous, smart, and he even had good taste in clothes; he looked good just lounging around the house. He drove a Jeep Cherokee, took care of his mother, and rarely ran out on her to be Superman. He accepted her, flaws and all, and wanted nothing more than to make her happy. He was almost perfect.

So, why had she been treating him so badly?

The lead story on LNN the next day put Lois’ world back into focus. Reports were flooding the station of a devastating fire in an elementary school in Los Angeles. It had blazed out of control before Superman had a chance to get there. She watched the images as the Man of Steel carried out child after child. At least twenty had perished from smoke inhalation. The realization that Clark was this hero clarified itself as she saw the incredible pain in his eyes.

Suddenly her feelings didn’t matter. She knew this was devastating Clark. This fire, coupled with Lana taking Jon, would be taking its toll on him. She practically broke the laws of physics as she sped the distance to his house. He wasn’t there. She waited with Martha through the night. Finally giving up the next morning, she headed for the Planet. Someone had to know where Clark was. Surely he hadn’t been fighting the fire that long. The news showed no signs of him being there anymore. It wasn’t long before she received her answer. He was fighting another fire, a wild fire in Arizona. Lois’ heart ached for him. He looked exhausted. Knowing Clark and what a tender heart he had, she knew he was probably grieving for each and every child that had perished in California. Keeping himself busy as Superman was his way of making it through the excruciating pain.

Lois returned to Clark’s house that night. Martha told her he was upstairs in his room. She found him sitting on a blanket on his balcony.

“Clark?” She approached him slowly. He was sitting with his arms wrapped around his drawn up legs, no shirt, and a pair of shorts on. He was missing his glasses and even from the side Lois could tell he hadn’t shaved in days. He was staring at the cement wall in front of him. Slowly he turned toward her. Lois almost gasped at the haunted look she saw in his eyes. He had been crying and as he looked at her, the tears filled his eyes again. Lois was immediately on the blanket beside him to offer comfort. He didn’t hesitate. He practically fell into Lois’ arms. She desperately wanted to take away his pain.

No words were said. She allowed him to set the pace. He slowly stretched out, laying his head in her lap. She stroked his hair, offering as much comfort as she could give. After a while she leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his face. Clark drew closer to her, one of his hands clutching her back. He reminded her of a scared little boy needing to feel safe. She kissed his face again, then again. At that moment all she wanted to do was take away his fears.

Lois tilted Clark’s face up enough to kiss his lips. He didn’t try to fight it. Instead he pushed himself up to return her kiss. One kiss faded into another. Clark lifted a gentle hand to cup Lois’ cheek as he caressed her lips with his own.

Lois was on fire. She wanted to offer this man the ultimate comfort. The hand that had been grasping his head slid down to his neck, then further to his shoulder. Clark’s answering moan gave her the courage to move lower.

Clark drew away from the kiss and put his hand over hers on his chest. His eyes seemed to be searching hers for any hint of indecision. All he could possibly see was the heated desire she had kept bottled up for so long.

“Lois?” he questioned.

Her hand came back to run warm fingers through the hair above his ear. “Don’t say no tonight, Clark.”

He closed his eyes, and she could tell he was trying to control his own desire. He looked at her again as he slowly placed his hand on her swollen mid-section. “Should we do this?”

Immediately Lois wanted to kick herself. Of course Clark didn’t want to do this. She was heavily pregnant, with another man’s baby no less. Even a man as wonderful of Clark couldn’t possibly want to make love to her now. She dropped her gaze from his only to have him lift her chin again with a gentle touch.

“Lois, I do want you.”

“I know… just not right now.”

“No, no, no.” Clark placed a tender kiss on her lips. His hand held her head as he continued to speak. “There is nothing I want more than to make love to you… right here… right now.” His hand once again covered her mound. “I just don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“Clark, pregnant women can enjoy sex, as long as there aren’t any problems, right up until the end.”

“I know.” He looked down where his hand stroked her stomach. “I’d die if I hurt you or her.”

This time it was Lois that lifted his chin. “You won’t hurt either of us.”

Clark continued to look at her for several moments. “You have so much faith in me.” He looked so defeated today. “I’m Superman, yet you manage to take my breath away.”

“Clark, you don’t think I would have reservations about you being Superman, do you?”

There was a bit of uncertainty behind his brown eyes. “Well… that’s something we haven’t talked a lot about.”

“Clark Kent! I can’t believe you still doubt how I feel about you.” Both her hands came up to hold his face. “I love you… you… all of you.”

“I love you,” he whispered just before his mouth covered hers again. He drew back to look at her. “I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am to have you.” He placed another kiss on her lips before he rose and lifted Lois in his arms. Anticipation roared within her as he carried her into his room and placed her on his bed. When he joined her, he kissed her once more.

She answered with a sigh against his lips. She was in heaven. Her raging hormones were finally about to get a little attention. She was excited beyond belief. Lois had wanted to make love to Clark for years.

Once again he ended their encounter by pulling away from her. “Do you want me to… cover myself?”

“What?”

“Well, I know we don’t need protection for pregnancy.”

“That’s an understatement,” she snorted.

Clark smiled as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t ask for that reason. This is our first time and well, I just don’t want to make assumptions that you’d want to do this without a condom.”

“Clark, that is… thoughtful. I think.”

“Gee, thanks. Look, I know I’m sucking all the excitement out of this.”

She covered his lips with a finger. “I want to feel you. But… are you sure you want to do this?”

***

“Why don’t I show you?” Clark leaned over to kiss her again. He took his time to kiss her with all the emotions he had ever felt for her. She must have liked what he was doing because she was the one that sought and got permission to enter his mouth.

A guttural groan escaped Clark’s lips as he sank further into their encounter. He had to force himself to relax. He had wanted this for so long, and now that it was about to happen, he had a hard time keeping himself calm. He wouldn’t rush this— not one moment. Slowly his hand began to explore her neck. The passionate kiss ended, so he could layer a trail of open mouth, wet kisses down her neck, then back up to her ear.

“You smell so good,” he whispered in her ear. Lois sighed and arched into his questing mouth.

“Ohhh,” she gasped as he sucked an earlobe between his teeth. He nibbled softly before he continued to cover her in kisses. Unable to remain idle any longer, Lois’ hand roamed the hard planes of his chest. “You’re gorgeous,” she told him as she smoothed a hand over his solid pecs.

“Mmm,” was the answer as he drew back to look at her. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“Please be sure, Lois. After we do this, I won’t go back being just friends.”

Her only answer was to grind her mouth against his. He groaned loudly and renewed his assault on her senses. His hand moved over her arm, her side, and when he became bolder, he felt her tremble slightly.

Clark lifted his head to watch her expression as he began to unbutton her blouse. He had waited for this moment his entire life. Suddenly he felt overwhelmed. His hand shook as he undid button after button.

With the last impediment successfully out of the way, Clark pulled one side of Lois’ blouse back to allow him his first glimpse of her satin clad bosom and taut, swollen abdomen. His hand splayed on the skin of her chest as he kissed her. She held his head to her as the kiss deepened. Quickly his excitement took over, and Clark began his exploration again. His touch was gentle, causing both to groan in pleasure.

Clark broke away from the kiss as he continued to undress her. He gasped when realization hit him completely. He was finally, finally, making love to the woman he loved more than anything on this earth. It was overwhelming.

“Clark,” she breathed, her breath whispering over his neck sending shivers down his spine.

“God, Lois, you are incredible.” His voice was husky with desire as he continued his slow, deliberate movements. “Are you okay?” he asked as he looked up a while later, his hand covering her belly.

“Very okay,” she assured him.

He smiled and began to run his hand over her taut skin as he eased back up to kiss her senseless. This time Lois broke the kiss to nuzzle his neck and ear. Clark’s head fell back to give her better access. His low growl vibrated through his neck and transferred itself to Lois.

She had grown restless, wanting to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her. The kisses continued, her hands smoothed over soft skin.

This was absolutely fantastic, Clark thought as she branded his skin. Thank goodness he was Superman. He didn’t think he could stand this experience if he wasn’t. Clark drew away from Lois’ mouth, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. The intense fire she saw there took her breath away.

“I’m about to realize my deepest desire,” he told her softly.

“To make love to me? That’s your deepest desire?” she asked, curiosity temporarily overriding her raging libido.

“No,” he told her with a soft smile as he lifted his hand and gently pushed her hair back off her face. “For us to finally be one. One in heart, one in mind, and…” He kissed her again. “… one in body,” he breathed. “And this… this is a precious gift.” He kissed her slowly, tenderly, and continually as he finally lost himself to the woman he had loved for so long.

It was a long while later before he settled beside her and buried his face against her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. “God, I needed that.” He kissed her neck. “I’m so sorry.”

Lois responded by lifting a hand to his face. “Clark, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Lois, you obviously came here to try to comfort me, and I ended up… doing this.”

“I think it was mutual.”

Clark pushed back to look at her. “Why would you even want to do something like that? Make love to me just to comfort me?”

“Because you needed it,” she whispered. She traced his lips with her finger. “I need to apologize to you. I should have called no matter what. All my life I’ve let my work and my stubborn pride get in the way of me having a real life. This time it may cost me the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “You haven’t lost me. You never could. I’ve learned my lesson where you’re concerned.” He leaned over and kissed her stomach. “Are you okay?”

“Clark, I’m fine. You are an amazing lover.”

A slow smile spread across his lips as Clark lowered his mouth to hers again. He trailed kisses to her ear. “Hold on,” he said softly.

A few seconds later Lois was standing in Clark’s shower stall as he adjusted the water.

“Wow! That was awesome.”

Clark smiled brightly as he turned and took her in his arms. “Mmmm… You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Oh, oh, oh, mmm.” She could only give herself over to this man as he floated them slightly off the tile floor.

Later, as they in bed, basking in their afterglow once again, Clark lifted his hand and gently cupped her cheek.

“What would you say if I told you I thought I’d just found my other half?”

His voice was a soft whisper. Lois closed her hand over his where it still rested on her face. “I’d say I’d just found mine,” she answered.

Clark kissed her slowly and gently before rolling them over to their sides facing each other. He tucked Lois in against his chest and held her tightly. With his demons finally released, Clark drifted to sleep. Lois followed shortly behind.

***

Lois stretched her aching muscles and smiled as she remembered the night before. When Clark worked at the agency, there had been discussions among the women about him being as good as he looked. She finally knew the answer to that. He was better.

His side of the bed was cold. She rose to find her clothes had been washed, dried, and folded. They were laid out on Clark’s dresser, a single white rose on top. Lois smiled and lifted herself from the bed.

Wrapped in Clark’s large robe, she found him in Jon’s room. He was sitting in the rocking chair holding a stuffed animal. She could tell he had been crying. He turned to meet her gaze when she placed her hand on his knee as she kneeled at his side.

“Hi,” he told her with a smile.

“Hi.” She placed a kiss on his knee. “How are you?”

“Better… a lot better,” he answered. “I’m sorry I left you alone in bed. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, Clark, I understand.” She reached up to play in his hair.

He reached out to cup her cheek. “Thank you for coming here last night. I really needed to see you.” He smiled at her and pulled her up onto his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did you come last night?”

“The same reason I came to the hospital. You needed me.”

He squeezed his arms around her. “Where’s Taylor?”

“At Daddy’s. I asked Dad if he could stay before I came over last night.”

“I wish he was here.”

Lois pulled from his grasp and faced him. “You do?”

“Of course I do. Lois, Taylor’s great. I think I like him more than you.” He waggled his brows intending for that last remark to be a joke. However, Lois’ expression was very serious.

“That means the world to me.”

“Lois, you forget I know how it feels to be a single parent. I’ve turned down a lot of dates because I knew how women would act if I told them about Jon.”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe you asked me out first.”

“No, I didn’t. You must have asked me out a few dozen times when you lived in Metropolis before.”

“True.”

“But this time… Why would you go out with me… now?”

“I could tell you all sorts of things, but I guess the real answer is that I was attracted. I mean, I’ve been attracted to other women, but nothing like this.” Clark blushed and dropped his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound-”

“Good?” Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. “It sounds really good to know I can still turn a man’s head.”

“You definitely do that.” Clark took advantage of her position by kissing her again.

“So, when do you get to see Jon again?”

“Hopefully today. Lana called sometime yesterday and wants to see me.”

Lois leaned back against Clark’s chest. “Does she know we’re seeing each other?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“Guess she’ll find out sooner or later.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I want the world to know we’re together,” she assured him. “But I don’t want her to cause any more trouble for you.”

“I can handle Lana.”

“We can handle Lana.” And she realized she meant it. This man was part of her very soul now. She wasn’t about to give any part of him up to a woman that had literally tossed him away like yesterday’s trash.

“Mmm. I think I like that word.” Clark rubbed her arms before letting his hand drift to her stomach. “Has Dan called?”

“No. Thank God.”

“I’ll be glad when she’s born. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Lois covered his hand on her stomach. “How did I get lucky enough to find you again?”

“I’m the lucky one.” Apparently the baby agreed because she picked that moment to move. “That’s amazing.”

“What?”

“A baby, pregnancy, all of it. It’s just incredible to know there’s this little life growing inside you.”

“And it really doesn’t bother you?”

“Lois, how many times do I have to tell you that I love you? All of you.” His hand splayed over the taut skin. “Or maybe you need me to show you.” Clark grinned and lost himself in another kiss. Before long their passion was raging out of control again. She had denied them this kind of relationship for so long. It was time to make up for all those years of yearning and pain.

***

Clark made it to Lana’s apartment shortly before nine. He was excited to see Jon after so many days. He knocked and waited patiently for her to answer.

Lana pulled the door open with a jerk. “You’re early.”

“Only ten minutes. It’s been over a week. I want to see Jon.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“What?!”

“Could you come inside? This isn’t the type of building where arguments should take place in the hall.”

Clark huffed his indignation and pushed in past her. His eyes swept the immaculate apartment. Obviously Jon’s child support was paying for the housekeeper. He pushed that aside and faced Lana.

“Where’s Jon?”

“He’s with Eric.”

“What?!”

“They went to the store. We needed some milk. I thought it would give you and I time to talk.”

Clark wanted to say more, but he kept his mouth closed. He followed Lana into the dining room.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“No. Just tell me what you want.”

She faced him with her arms folded across her chest. “I think we need to settle this custody case out of court.”

“Really? And when did you come to such a stunning revelation?”

“Don’t get smart, Clark.”

“I can’t help it. We’ve been having this battle for months, and all of sudden you decide we need to settle it. I’ve been trying to tell you this all along.” Clark sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “So did you finally think of someone other than yourself?”

“Do you want to hear my offer or not?”

“Okay. What?”

Lana walked across the room to stand on the other side of the table from Clark. “Full joint custody…”

“In exchange for…?”

“Child support remains the same… and you don’t say anything about Eric living here.”

“Eric’s living here?” Clark already knew it but wanted her to admit it.

“Yes.” She lowered her arms and traced a pattern on the table with her fingers.

“Why? Why now?”

“Well…”

“No, no. Don’t tell me. Your lawyer told you if I pressed the issue I’d get custody, didn’t he?”

“Look,” she told him a little forcibly. “Do you want joint custody or not?”

“Lana, when Jon was born I swore to always do what was best for him no matter what the cost to myself. That includes protecting him when I feel his well-being might be compromised. I can’t, in good faith, allow him to stay with Eric and not know anything about him. I should have checked him out long before now. I guess I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt to take care of your son. But with you making an offer out of the blue like this leads me to believe something is wrong.”

“I can take care of my son!” she spat at him.

“Oh yeah. Like the morning I came to get him, and you were having sex in the bedroom while Jon was out here by himself.”

“And you’ve never had sex with Jon in your house?”

“No! And even if I had, I certainly wouldn’t do it while he was awake and filthy in the other room.”

“Come on, Clark. I know you’re dating that Lois person. But why you feel you have to be shacked with a pregnant woman, I’ll never know.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak, but something in Lana’s expression stopped him. “That’s it. You believe her baby’s mine. You think you need to assure yourself a cash flow in case she and I decide to get married. Someone told you a stable home would be considered a better custodial home than a single parent home.”

“That’s not true. It does bring up an interesting point. If her baby is yours, that means you were sleeping around on me.”

“Excuse me? That’s like the pot calling the kettle black isn’t it?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Lana. You know exactly what it means!”

They were in full battle mode when a tiny voice broke the tension. “Daddy!”

Clark turned to see Jon running at him full steam. He bent and caught him in his arms. “Hey you!” He placed soft kisses on the small face and neck before him. “How’s my big guy?”

“I’m dood.” Jon drew back to see his dad. “How’s my daddy?”

“Daddy just got a whole lot happier.”

Jon giggled and lifted his hands to hold Clark’s face. “How’s Nana? And Taywer? I miss him. And Wois? She wanna see me?”

“Nana is missing you something awful. Taylor is sick without you. And Lois said to give you this.” Clark leaned forward and kissed Jon’s lips.

A tiny hand came up to wipe his small mouth. “She kisses better, Daddy,” Jon told his dad.

Clark chuckled and pulled him to his chest. “She does, huh?” Jon simply nodded where he lay on Clark’s large shoulder. Clark held his small back as he turned to look at Eric. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Clark Kent.” He thrust his hand out in the air to the man.

Eric reached out to grasp the offered hand. “Eric LaLonde.” He withdrew almost as soon as he took the hand. “Lana, all they had was this low-fat mess.” He gave Lana the milk and spun on his heel to leave. “Terry called me. You have to be at the studio in an hour,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared.

“Nice guy,” Clark told Lana.

“Oh shut up.” She marched into the kitchen to put the milk away.

“Do you have a new agent?”

“What?”

“Eric said Terry called. Is he your new agent?”

“What I do is none of your business,” she snapped out. “Now, what do we do about Jon? We need some kind of arrangement. I have to go to Spain at the end of the week.”

“Ahh… Another reason to work this out. You’ll miss another hearing.”

“Clark!”

Jon leaned up to look at his mother. “Don’t yell at my daddy!”

Lana was about to throw a retort at Jon but caught the glare from Clark and thought better of it.

Clark rubbed his hand up and down Jon’s back. He was quiet while he contemplated his situation. What should he do? Of course, he wanted full joint custody and for all of the hearings to be behind them, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to settle on Lana’s terms. And he definitely didn’t want to discuss this with Jon in the room. Finally he bent and put Jon on the floor. “Hey, big guy. How about you go to your room and get your things while Mom and I talk?”

“‘Kay, Daddy. No yelling,” he reminded them.

“No yelling,” Clark told him. He waited until the boy shut his bedroom door before he turned to Lana. “The way I see it, I could make life really difficult for you. If you miss this hearing, I get custody by default.” Clark had hit a nerve. Lana started to squirm. “I’m not happy that you feel your career is more important than your son, but I’m not going to play your games. I want full joint custody. However, I don’t feel I should have to pay the same ridiculous amount of child support.”

“Clark…”

He held up his hand to stop her outburst. “I won’t budge on this one. Half what I’m paying now. Take it or I’ll push for the hearing. You can’t postpone again.”

Lana fumed in anger. Clark was right. He could push for the hearing and receive custody, and she knew it. She had no choice but to take what he offered. “Fine.”

“And your… living arrangements best not become a problem.” He gave her the most unmistakable glare he had ever shown her, leaving little to doubt what he meant. He couldn’t say a whole lot about her living with a man because he was pretty sure there were a few sleepovers in his future as well. Unlike Eric, he trusted Lois with Jon’s life. She would never hurt him. If Eric even breathed wrong on Jon, so help him, he would have her back in court.

“Anything else?”

“I mean it, Lana. The first sign of anything out of the ordinary and…”

“I get it!”

Not entirely happy that Jon would be living with someone he didn’t know, but knowing this was the best he would get for now, he relented. “I’ll have Constance draw up the papers and send them to your lawyer.”

“Whatever. I’ll go say good-bye to Jon.” She stormed from the room.

Clark wanted to smile. He had won a small battle where his son was concerned. Yet, he couldn’t help feeling there was something going on Lana wasn’t telling him. Those thoughts were interrupted when Lana came back down the hall with Jon.

“Ready to go?” Clark asked Jon.

“Yep.” He smiled and turned to take his backpack from his mother. “See ya’.”

“I’ll call before I leave on Friday. Maybe we can have lunch.”

“‘Kay.” Jon reached for his dad. A short wave was the only form of affection he would get from Lana. She wasn’t much for hugging and kissing, and he rarely asked her for those things any more. His dad always saw to it that he had more than his fair share of attention, which was fine with Jon. Of course, his Nana helped out in that department, and he had Lois now, too.

Clark said a final good-bye to Lana and took his son home.

***

“Remember… she’ll be doing all the hard work. You offer as much support as possible.”

Clark rubbed Lois’ stomach from his position behind her on the pillows. They were taking a refresher course in Lamaze to help Lois during her labor. She only had a couple of weeks to go, and everyone was getting excited about the upcoming birth.

“You know, this would be easier if you’d just do this for me,” Lois told Clark.

He chuckled as they started her breathing exercises. Twenty minutes later they were making their way up the sidewalk toward Clark’s brownstone.

“I’m glad we decided to walk tonight,” Lois told Clark.

“Me, too. I love taking walks on warm nights.”

“Yeah.” Lois squeezed the hand she held a little tighter. “I haven’t told you how happy I am that Jon’s home.”

“I thought Taylor was going to cry when he got home the other day. He followed Jon around all afternoon.”

“I know. He talked about Jon non-stop this morning.” She looked down as they continued to walk.

“What?” Clark could tell there was something wrong.

“I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“About my life now. It’s wonderful.” She looked up at Clark. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You, Martha… Jon.”

Clark stopped and turned Lois to kiss her softly. “Thank you.”

She giggled and pushed her arms around his neck to deepen another kiss. Things were quickly getting out of hand when Clark’s head shot up. Lois had come to recognize the look he got when he heard a cry for help. Though he would often choose to remain with her, there were times when he was needed by someone else just as much as she needed him. In those instances, she would hand him over, sharing him with the world.

“Go!” She gripped his lapels and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Hurry home.”

“Do you plan to be there?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

Clark growled his appreciation before disappearing in an alley. Lois smiled as the familiar sonic boom registered his departure. She made her way to Clark’s place in perfect contentment. It felt almost as natural to go to his house without him as it did going home. Actually, it felt better than going to her place. With Clark, she was home.

***

Lois had found her true place in the world, something she was scared to admit. Being with Clark and Jon was better than chasing down the latest multi-million dollar sensation. That realization stunned the otherwise no nonsense workaholic. She couldn’t deny it either.

Her carefully erected defenses were adamant to remind her that it was all too good to be true. Her little inner voice kept telling her that no man in his right mind wanted to be strapped to a pregnant woman and her seven year old son. Another evil voice told her that Clark would run for the hills as soon as the baby was born. Where would that leave her? Taylor was so crazy about Clark and Jon. It would devastate him if anything happened between her and Clark. And it would devastate her to have to give up Jon. She had fallen so completely in love with the boy, something she never thought possible. She loved the little guy as much as she loved Taylor. Lois found herself wondering if she was really supposed to be this happy. Was anyone supposed to be?

She and Taylor had only intended on staying a night at Clark’s place, but she couldn’t force herself to go home. A night quickly turned into a week. Clark was thrilled to have them with him. He made a quick trip to her place for more clothes for her and Taylor, so Lois wouldn’t leave, not knowing she had already lost that argument with herself.

But work called much too quickly. Lois had to spend all day Saturday at a conference with the agency’s lawyers and accountants, looking into business related to the transfer of power from her father. Clark wasn’t thrilled to be away from her but knew her work was important to her. He decided he would pass the time by taking the boys to a park upstate to camp for the night. He had made them the happiest little guys alive.

***

Clark chose a campsite that was fairly secluded that sat up on a hill from the lake. It only took him a few minutes to pitch the tent and set up camp. When that was done, Clark outfitted the boys in lifejackets, and all three set out to play in the water.

The boys played in the water for nearly an hour before Clark went to fix lunch.

Clark’s head snapped up from the sandwiches he was making when Taylor screamed in pain. A second later Clark was on his knees beside the crying boy. Taylor had fallen and cut his leg on a jagged rock. The cut was bleeding pretty badly. Clark snatched Taylor up and with speed just short of super, he had the boy sitting on the hood of the jeep.

Clark’s face was a picture of determination as he started to assess the wound. “Taylor, son, I know it hurts.”

“It… it does.”

“I know.” Clark looked up at his swollen eyes. “I’m going to take care of it, though.”

“I… I…(sniff) know.”

Clark rubbed his leg just above the cut. “Jon, would you get me some water?”

“Yes sir.” He hurried to the spigot and filled a cup.

Clark took the plastic cup and poured it over the cut to clean it. Taylor had calmed to sniffles but was waling again when Clark touched his leg with antiseptic.

“I know. I know.” He blew gently to help cool the sting. The cut refused to stop bleeding though. “Taylor, do you trust me?”

“Yeah.”

“Close your eyes.” The boy did. “Squeeze ‘em tight.” He did. “Now, when you open them you’ll be all better.”

“‘Kay.” He kept his eyes squeezed tight.

“Make Taywer better, Daddy.”

Clark nodded at Jon and somehow the boy understood his father’s unspoken request to be quiet. The young boy forgot that Taylor still didn’t know his dad’s secret. He had wanted to tell him so many times, but Clark insisted that was something he had to tell the boy himself. Jon respected his father’s decision and kept the secret. He would be so glad when Taylor finally knew though. It was hard to keep secrets from his friend, especially at his age.

Clark shifted slightly, lowered his glasses, and stared at Taylor’s leg. Jon’s eyes widened as the cut sealed shut. He loved to watch his dad do ‘super’ things.

“It’s burning.”

“I know. One more second.” He finished closing the wound, pushed his glasses up, and blew again. “Better?”

Taylor opened one eye. “Yeah.”

“You can look now.”

He looked down at the dark streak where his leg had been bleeding earlier. “Wow,” he said with wonder. “It’s better.”

“It is. Think you’ll live?”

Taylor looked up at Clark. “I’m a big baby, huh?”

“No. That cut was pretty nasty. But it’s all better now.”

“Thanks, Clark.”

“You’re welcome.” He lifted him up and set him on his feet. “Just be careful.”

“I will.” He ran back toward the water, but stopped when Jon didn’t follow. “It’s okay, Jon. See. Clark fixed it.”

Jon reached to touch his dad’s arm. “Tanks, Daddy,” he said quietly.

“You’re welcome, son.” Clark smiled and watched as the boys raced back to the water. He really needed to tell Taylor about his secret soon. He couldn’t expect Jon to keep quiet with Taylor becoming such a close friend. Clark also secretly hoped he would someday be more than just Jon’s friend. He wanted Taylor to be Jon’s brother. To Clark both boys were already his sons.

***

“Look, guys. You have to be quiet, or you’ll scare them off.” Clark spoke in a whisper as he pointed out a small herd of deer across the cove.

“Oh wow!” Taylor was thoroughly impressed. He had never seen deer in their natural habitat. Being outdoors was something his mother just didn’t do well. His grandfather had taken him camping the summer before, but there were too many campers to catch a glimpse of any wildlife other than squirrels.

They watched the animals until it got too dark to see them clearly. Clark lifted the flashlight and bounced the beams of light off the glowing eyes of the deer as they continued to look for food on the bank of the lake.

“That was too cool!” Taylor and Jon talked as Clark built a fire. Soon enough they were eating s’mores and telling ghost stories. “Clark, thanks for this trip.”

“Anytime, son.” Clark ruffled his hair.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Taywer your son?”

Clark turned to face Jon. “Not the same way you are, but I like to think of him as my son. Does that bother you?”

“Nope. I got a brudder.” Jon smiled over at his friend. “Think Wois will care if I call him my brudder?”

“Why don’t we ask her when we get back?”

“‘Kay.” Jon smiled as he ate the rest of his treat. Finally he looked over at Taylor. “‘Kay?”

Taylor smiled brightly at the younger boy. “Sure!” He got up and settled close enough so that he could throw an arm over the boy’s shoulder. “And soon we’ll have a little sister to play with.”

“Yeah. A smelly, crying baby,” Jon reminded him.

“That’s okay. We can take her for rides in the wagon. And we get to be ‘big’ brothers. She’ll need us to protect her.”

“Yeah. And we can teach her to do stuff.”

“Yep…”

Clark settled back on his elbow to listen to the boys plan how they would take care of the baby once she was born. He didn’t have the heart to tell them she would only eat and sleep for the first few weeks. They’d find out soon enough.

That night three very happy guys settled to sleep. Tomorrow they would have to go home.

Sunday morning was spent breaking up camp. The boys were disappointed, but Clark assured them they could come again, even though he had to stifle his own disappointment as they made their way back to Metropolis. There was nothing he loved more than spending time with his boys.

His boys… That sounded like music to his ears. For the first time in years, Clark was content and happy to be himself.

***

“This is great,” Sam told Clark as they settled into their seats at the baseball game. “Sorry you had to tell the boys they couldn’t come.”

“I spoke to them. They understand we needed to talk.” Clark had come home Sunday to find out Sam Lane wanted to see him. They decided to go to a ballgame.

“Good. So, I guess I’ll get straight to the point before the game starts.” Sam shifted to look at the young man by his side. “Clark, I’d like your blessing to court your mother.” Sam watched the young man nod his head. He continued quickly. “I am not, by any means, trying to take the place of your father. I happen to think Jonathan Kent was an extraordinary man. I respect your mother’s feelings for him. And this is no declaration of marriage. I really like spending time with her and just think it will help us lonely old birds pass the time.”

“You know she’ll love my father until the day she dies?”

“As I will my Ellen. Son, you of all people should know what love does when it grabs you by the heart and won’t let go. That kind of love only happens once. I love my time with your mother. I can’t say it’s the same as with Ellen, but it’s just as strong and just as powerful.”

Clark took a long drink of his beer before speaking again. “Sam, the only thing I ask is that you cherish my mother. She’s one in a million.”

“I agree. And I intend to show her I think so… and those beautiful grandkids. Speaking of which, did you speak with Lois this afternoon?”

“No. Why?”

“Dan went by her house today.”

“What did he want?”

“Just to pull her chain a little. Made some snide comments about you and the baby.”

“Oh man. She was probably upset, huh?”

“A little. Angry more than anything. She hates that he keeps insisting the baby is yours. She thinks it will drive a wedge between you two.”

“I’ve told her that was crazy.”

“I know. In her very insecure mind, she believes you and Jon and what you two have now is too good to be true.”

“I know. I told her I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah. Just be patient. Lois is stubborn and scared.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to change her mind, if she’ll let me.”

Sam clapped Clark’s shoulder. “Now who needs to ask blessings?”

“Well, speaking of…”

***

“Lois Lane?” Lois answered her phone at work the next day.

“Hi, beautiful,” came the sexy voice.

“Hi. I missed you last night.”

“And I missed you. But you know something occurred to me. Your father can’t ever marry my mother.”

“Why not?”

“That would make us step brother and sister in a weird way. We’d have to end our relationship if they ever get married.”

“Bite your tongue. Maybe I can talk Daddy into just living in sin with Martha.”

Clark laughed softly. “Hey, I was wondering if I could take out my favorite girl tonight?”

“Oh, Clark. I’d loved to, but I can’t seem to stay awake past eight. I’m sorry.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I should have thought you might be too tired to go out. Only eight days left.”

“Yeah. I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“Are you having problems?”

“No. Just tired.”

“I understand, sweetie. How about I cook you dinner?”

“Really, Clark, I’m too big to eat anything but a snack.”

“Okay. Would it be possible to let me come see you for a minute or two?”

“Damn! Do I sound that bad?”

“No. I just want to spend some time with you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Good. I’ll bring Taylor home when I come.”

“Okay. Clark, I really am sorry.”

“Lois… hush. Before you see your son, I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“While we gone, he cut his leg on a rock. It was bleeding, so I sealed.” He sounded nervous over her reaction.

“You sealed it?” she asked.

“Yeah, with a little heat vision.”

“Wow,” she said. “I wasn’t aware you could do something like that.”

“I did the same thing once when Jon cut his leg on his bike. It stopped the bleeding, and it looks really good. I just thought I would tell you before you saw and freaked out. I’m sorry. They were playing in the water and…”

“Clark,” she interrupted him. “Boys are boys. They might get hurt.”

“Lois…”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna have a complex over this.”

He chuckled softly. “Point taken.”

“My son is your son,” she told him.

He was quiet for a moment before he took a deep breath. “That means the world to me, honey.”

“Together, Clark,” she reminded him. “We’re in this together.”

“Do you know how good that sounds?”

“I do, and I’m sorry I’m just not up to going out.”

“What did I say? I’ll see you tonight.”

“Love you,” she said.

“I love you.”

Lois replaced her receiver and smiled brightly. She wanted to spend time with Clark just as badly as he wanted to spend time with her, but her very heavy pregnancy was making things too difficult to function let alone do anything else but sleep when she got home. She looked forward to at least seeing him later.

***

Later turned out to be sooner. Shortly after lunch Lois’ water broke.

“Where is she?” Clark asked as he made it to his mother’s side. He had been out saving the day as Superman when Lois went into labor. His mother left messages for him at the Planet and home. As soon as he checked his messages at work, he raced back out to the hospital.

“She’s in labor room four.”

“And she’s asking for you,” Taylor told Clark.

Clark nodded and headed for the L&D ward. He heard Lois’ wail long before he got to her. He hurried in to her side.

“Clark!” Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he told her. He wiped the sweat from her brow. “How far are we?”

“We? We! WE are READY… to… PUSH!”

“Okay, honey, okay.” Clark was about to panic when a nurse came in.

“Hello. I’m Haley. I’ll be the nurse during your wife’s labor.”

“She’s not my wife,” Clark told her regretfully.

“Oh… Well, Ms. Lane is fully dilated and ready to push this little visitor out.” The nurse started preparing the bed for delivery.

Lois continued to yell and curse loudly. Poor nurse. Guess she heard a lot of that. Clark rubbed her back and offered as much comfort as he could, smiling slightly at a particularly colorful word.

“Clark, this hurts so much more than when I had Taylor.”

He leaned over to place his head against hers, wishing he could take away some of the pain. “You have to breathe,” he told her softly and demonstrated. She repeated his action and after a moment or two, she was able to get a better handle on the situation.

An hour later Clark cried with her as he watched a beautiful baby girl take her first breath.

“Look at you!” Clark trailed a long finger over a tiny cheek as he leaned to look at the baby where she lay on Lois’ breast. “Lois, she is so beautiful.”

“She’s perfect.” Lois placed a quick kiss on the baby’s head as the nurse came to take her to be cleaned and examined.

Clark’s eyes followed the baby as they placed her under the heating lamp. He just looked at her for several minutes before he turned to focus on her mother.

“How are you?” His hand stroked her hair as he spoke.

“I’m tired.”

“You did a great job. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I was hit by a truck.”

Clark chuckled softly. “As soon as you’re settled in your room we’ll see about getting you something for pain.”

“Okay.”

Clark leaned to place a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you, Lois.”

“I love you, Clark.”

***

“She’s so tiny,” Taylor said as he stood outside the nursery window with Clark and Jon to get a look at his new baby sister.

“But she’s great,” Jon said. He leaned forward in his dad’s arms and placed his small face and hands against the window. “She wooks wike Taywer.”

“Think so?” Taylor scrunched his face to see her better. “I think she looks like Mommy.”

“Daddy, is Wois okay?”

“Sure, Jon. She’s just tired.”

The boy reached out for his father’s neck. “She was crying and yewwing. You sure?”

“Positive. You can see her later tonight. Right now she needs to sleep.”

“‘Kay.” He leaned against the window again. “She’s great.”

The threesome looked at the newest addition to their little family for a few more minutes before they decided to go find Martha and Sam.

Taylor reached out to take Clark’s hand when Jon ran ahead to his grandmother. “Clark, could I ask you something?”

Clark stopped and kneeled in front of the boy. From the tone he used this was serious. “Taylor, you can ask me anything.”

“Will Dan take her away like Lana takes Jon?”

Clark sighed and took his small hands. “Taylor, I won’t lie and say Dan will never see her. I hope if he does decide to be part of her life, he and Lois can work something out, so she’ll never get hurt.”

“Can’t you be her Daddy?”

“I want to, more than anything. The fact is I’m not.”

“Nana says a Daddy’s not made, he’s born. She said Papa wasn’t your real Daddy, and he loved you like he was.”

“That’s true. And I will love your sister the same way. I just can’t say she’s mine to keep her real father from seeing her. That would be wrong.”

“I know.” Taylor looked back up at the nursery window. “I just don’t want him to take her away and not bring her back.”

“Taylor, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that. Your mom is the best mother in the world. No one is going to take your sister away.”

“‘Kay. Let’s go buy Mommy some flowers.”

“That’s a great idea.” Clark smiled and lifted Taylor in his arms. That earned him a huge hug. Taylor was an age where he often thought himself too big to be held. But every now and then Clark got a chance to do it. When he did, he took full advantage.

They caught up with Jon and went downstairs to the gift shop to see how many goodies they could find.

***

Lois opened her eyes to see a set of brown ones and a set of blue ones a mere inch or two away looking back at her.

“Hi,” came a small voice. “How are you?”

Lois lifted her hand to rub Taylor’s head. “I’m better, now that you’re here.”

“And me?”

“And you.” Lois cupped Jon’s tiny cheek with her other hand. Jon answered with a huge smile.

“Clark’s with Nana and Grandpa. They’re tired,” Taylor informed her.

“I’ll bet.”

“Mommy, the baby’s pretty. She’s the prettiest baby in the nursery.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“We have shirts. See.” Taylor sat up so she could read his shirt that read: ‘I’m a big brother’.

“I see.” She noticed Jon wasn’t smiling any more. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I got a shirt, too. But I’m not her brudder.”

“Sure you are,” Lois told him.

“Reawwy?” That earned her an expectant glow.

Lois held his face so he would continue to look at her. “Jon, she’ll need a big brother to look after her when Taylor can’t be around. I wouldn’t want that to be anyone but you.”

“‘Kay!”

Lois pulled him down to kiss him softly. “Aren’t you guys tired?”

“We wouldn’t go home until we saw you.”

“Daddy told us you’re okay.”

“But we wanted to make sure,” added Taylor.

Lois smiled brightly at her boys. She would have never thought her life would change so drastically in two short months. She felt so full.

***

“Hey you,” Clark sang out when he came in a few minutes later.

“Hey.”

He went to her side and offered her a kiss and a rose.

“Mmm… thank you.”

“There’s more.” Taylor let his hand sweep the room.

Lois saw there was indeed more. There must have been at least ten different arrangements along with stuffed animals and several balloons.

“Clark,” she admonished.

“There not all from us. The Agency sent a balloon arrangement and a couple of stuffed animals for the baby. The Planet sent one.”

“The Planet?”

“Sure. Perry even said to bring her by when you’re back on your feet. He told me he remembers her mother and needs to start early so that he can win her over to the paper before you get your teeth into her.” Lois couldn’t help the wide smile. “Your dad bought one and then Mom… And the boys… They had to…”

“Thank you.”

He stopped and looked down at her. “You’re welcome.” He gazed at her a moment before he noticed both boys were perched on the bed with her. “Hey guys, you should get down. We don’t want to hurt Mommy.” He froze when he realized what he had said. That was the first time he had grouped both boys together. At once he wanted to kick himself. He and Lois hadn’t made any kind of a commitment and to be honest, he wondered if things were moving too fast.

If Lois noticed, she didn’t react. She simply held one of each boys’ hands in hers. “They are going to stay right here and tell me all about their camping trip.”

Jon and Taylor broke into happy chatter. Clark settled in a chair and shook his head. Not only was Lois following both boys as they talked simultaneously, she was injecting questions into the conversation. He was Superman, and he couldn’t follow a thing they said.

The boys ran out of steam just before the nurse came in to check on Lois. “Hi, Ms. Lane. We need you to fill out this paperwork on the baby. She needs a name for the birth certificate.” She stopped and handed a piece of paper to Clark. “You need to sign this.”

“Me? Why?”

“It’s the paternity acknowledgement. We can’t put your name on the birth certificate without it because you and Ms. Lane aren’t married.”

Clark’s eyes shot to Lois, then back to the nurse. “I, ah, I’m…”

“Does that have to be done now?” Lois spoke up, thoroughly surprising Clark when she didn’t immediately tell the nurse he wasn’t the father.

“No. There’s no rush to get the final certificate. Uncle Sam could care less as long she’s accounted for. But she can’t take his name until it’s signed. Better get it done before you leave the hospital, or it will be a whole lot more than one piece of paper.”

Clark put the paper on the side table while the others were handed to Lois before the nurse left again. He should have said something, but he just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

“What are we going to name her?” Taylor asked his mother.

“I don’t know. I had all these wonderful names picked out, but now… I just don’t know.”

“I wike Choe,” Jon offered.

“He means Chloe. And I like it, too,” Taylor added. “How ‘bout that, Mom? Chloe Lane.”

“Robin,” came a soft voice.

Lois and the boys turned to look at Clark. “What?”

“Robin. She looks like a Robin.”

“And what does a Robin look like?”

“She looks strong and confident. She looks like an angel with dark hair and big brown eyes.” He turned his head to look at Lois. “She looks like you.”

“You think my name should have been Robin?”

“Nope. Lois is the only name that would have fit you.”

Lois smiled over at him for several moments before facing the boys again. “Okay. How about Chloe Robin Lane?”

“Kent,” was mumbled as Clark rose when the nurse pushed the baby into the room. He immediately reached in to pull her up. He found himself wanting nothing more than to sign those papers so she would be his. He knew that wasn’t possible. So, he was going the next best thing he could— he would hold her first. She had laid across her mother’s stomach right after birth, but his arm would cradle her even before Lois’.

“So, Mr. Kent… Do we have a name?” If Lois minded, she didn’t say a word.

And if she had heard his murmur, she chose not to acknowledge it either.

Clark ran a careful hand over the baby’s head, caressing her as gently as if she was a piece of glass. We’ll have this, he silently told her. ‘This first connection is mine alone.’ He placed a soft kiss on her cheek then lowered her to Lois’ waiting arms. “Don’t listen to me. She’s your daughter.” Damn! That didn’t come out quite the way he had intended it to.

He smiled at Lois, but he could tell she wasn’t happy with his statement. She cast him a hateful glare before turning to focus on the rest of her company. He had no doubt he would eat his words later.

“Wow!” Taylor peeked over at the baby girl his mother held. “She’s great.”

“Wet me see.” Jon eased closer to get a good look. “Oh, Wois. She wooks wike you.”

“Thank you, Jon.”

Clark eased back down in the chair beside the bed as another round of happy chatter erupted. He was angry with himself for saying what he did about the baby. He knew her name could never be Kent. He knew she would never truly be his daughter. And he had no right to be short with Lois. He had come into this relationship with his eyes wide open. He knew all the risks. Lois and her children held the power to crush him. They also held the power to make his life wonderful. He had told her time and time again this was what he wanted. Then he went and stuck his big foot in his mouth. His remark had hurt her, and that was something he had promised her he would never do.

He looked back up at the four people on the bed. These four people were vital to his very existence. In that instant he decided that the joy to come from being here, with Lois and her children, was worth any kind of pain and heartache he may have to endure later. Right here, right now was a moment Clark would never have missed. And all the wonderful moments to come was something he not only desperately wanted, he needed them. The first chance he got he would apologize to Lois, and he would never make the mistake of reminding her that Chloe wasn’t his daughter again.

***

Lois and Chloe Robin went home the following day. Clark and the boys had been to Lois’ house and cleaned it from top to bottom. There was more than enough groceries and an appropriate amount of junk food in the cabinets. The fridge ran over with any kind of beverage you could imagine. And the baby was set with diapers and all necessary items needed.

Lois praised their work when she walked in and thanked them over and over. They made her sit down in the den and waited on her hand and foot. Clark was desperately trying to make up for his blunder, and she knew it. Maybe she would make him sweat it out a bit, she thought as he brought in the best looking sandwich she had ever seen.

***

Lois watched as Clark lowered Chloe back into her bassinet then pulled it closer to the sofa. The boys had finally gone out to play, and they were alone.

“Comfy?” he asked her when he was certain the baby was content.

“Very.” She straightened the throw over her legs. They had only been home a few hours, in which time Clark had jumped at her every grunt and groan. He offered her a smile before he leaned back against the cushion. The television was on, but he seemed to stare at it without actually seeing it. He had something on his mind. and she felt pretty sure she knew what it was. He was thinking about what he had said to her in the hospital. He had tried to play it off, act as if it had been said casually— like it wasn’t meant the way it had been said. She had heard the raw edge to his statement. The reminder seared a lot more than she had imagined it would. And she had imagined this day and many more. She had envisioned many theoretical fights over this baby; she just couldn’t let it go. Apparently, neither could Clark.

“It’s okay,” she told him. It wasn’t— it never would be. But what else could she tell him?

“What?” he asked as he turned toward her.

“To take it back,” she almost croaked. This hurt so much. There was just no way she would make him feel obligated to her baby.

“Take what back?” Then it seemed to dawn on him what she meant. “Lois, no.” Clark got up to kneel on the floor so he could be face to face with her. “I am so sorry about what I said. I was hurt and a little angry, and I took it out on you.”

“Hurt and angry?”

“Yes. This beautiful, perfect little person had just come into the world, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted her to be mine.”

Lois’ brows furrowed. “What?”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to be part of your life, kids and all. I really do wish she was mine. But she’s not, and the nurse reminded me of that. I should have never thrown it back at you.”

“I’m sorry,” Lois whispered as her eyes filled with tears.

Clark pulled her into his arms. “Don’t you dare be sorry. I love Chloe. It doesn’t matter who fathered her, she’s here, and I intend to love her like she’s mine.”

Lois sighed heavily. She wanted to believe him. He treated Taylor like his own son, but Taylor had already been born when Clark met him. Clark had nurtured this baby before she was born. Was that the difference? Was he more emotionally attached because of that reason? Maybe he was, and maybe he would treat her like his own. Only time would tell if he really meant what he said. Even after all he had told her, she still didn’t completely believe him. She wanted to, and she hated it that she didn’t. Please, God, she prayed, don’t let my insecurities ruin this.

***

Clark and Jon stayed with Lois and Taylor for the next two weeks. Martha came during the day to help out while Clark was at work. Lois couldn’t help but feel very blessed. After that initial hiccup, things had changed. Clark did indeed treat Chloe like his own daughter. He changed diapers, even the dirty ones. He bathed her, and his favorite pastime was rocking her. He could be heard talking to her, and Lois had even been blessed once to hear Clark sing to her. She often found herself wishing that Chloe really was his.

And Clark couldn’t help but feel like he was on top of the world. He and Lois would talk into the night. He embraced his role as surrogate father without another hint of benevolence. He held Lois as she drifted to sleep at night and woke to the soft cries of a beautiful baby. He even got up for two o’clock feedings. He would make sure the boys were dressed each morning, feed the baby while Lois slept in, and left only when his mother was there to take over. Then it was off to work, breaks to be Superman, and errands for groceries or whatever they might need before he rushed back to Riviera Drive. Clark Kent couldn’t be happier. His dream had come true. He had a family, even it was for just a short time. He was determined to take advantage of every single minute—every minute before Dan showed up to pull the rug from under his feet.

***

Lois looked over at Clark as he held Chloe. She watched him day after day use his strength and incredible powers to perform amazing feats. Yet, she also watched him tend to a small baby with such tenderness.

“I think she’s out,” Lois told him. The baby was sleeping soundly in Clark’s arms.

“I’ll just go put her to bed.”

Lois nodded and went to fix coffee while Clark took Chloe to her room.

He tucked the baby in with a kiss to her head. “Good night, Sunshine.” He eased from the room and started back for the stairs.

“Daddy?”

Clark stopped outside Taylor’s door to see four bright eyes peering at him from the entrance to the small tent they were in. “Hey, shouldn’t you two be asleep?”

“We just wanted to say hi,” Taylor offered.

Clark stepped into the room and sat down in front of the boys. “Were you two good boys today?” He hadn’t seen the boys before now. Work kept him late, then several rescues detoured him before he could get home.

“Yes sir,” Jon answered as he climbed onto Clark’s lap. “Wois gonna re… re…”

“Remodel,” Taylor helped out with the word he couldn’t remember.

“Yeah. Her say…”

“She says,” Taylor once again spoke up. He had been helping Jon with his speech delays and conversation with the child was becoming a lot easier to understand.

“She says,” Jon corrected himself, “I get my own bed.” Until now, he and Taylor had shared a bed, if they weren’t sleeping in their tent.

“Really?”

Taylor climbed onto his opposite leg. “We want to share a room. You know, just like real brothers.”

Clark smiled and wrapped an arm around each boy. Jon looked up at his father. “Taylor says I share his mommy.”

“Did he?”

“And I tell him he share you,” Jon finished with a bright smile.

“I think I like all this sharing,” Clark told them. “Is it okay if I share Chloe with you guys?”

“Sure. We’ll even let you share Mom.” Taylor was grinning widely, extremely proud of himself.

“I definitely like that.” Clark kissed each boy’s head, then lifted them back into the tent. “Now, you both should get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

“‘Night, Daddy.”

“Good night, fellows.” Clark smiled and rose to exit the room. Lois had him a cup of coffee when he made it back to the sofa. “Thank you,” he told her as he took the mug.

“You’re welcome. What took you so long?”

“I was saying good night to my boys,” Clark answered absently. He stared across the room as he sipped the hot liquid in the cup.

Lois couldn’t help but notice there was something on his mind. “Okay, let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“There’s something on your mind, and I want to know what it is.”

Clark faced Lois with a smile. “How is it you know me so well?”

“I have no idea.”

“Lois, I’ve been thinking about Chloe.”

“Oh.” She shifted and set her cup back on the table.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about her father.”

Lois leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I guess I should call him.”

“Well…” Clark ran his hands up and down his legs. “I was thinking… maybe we could… just…” He took his glasses off and tossed them on the coffee table. “Why do you have to tell him?”

“Clark, he’s her father.”

“He has a funny way of showing it. Lois, he didn’t offer to help during your pregnancy. He hasn’t called at all to see if you were close to delivery. And where is he now?”

“Well, we can’t expect him to come if he doesn’t know about her.”

“And do you think he’d come if he did know?”

She was about to say something else, but Clark held up his hand to stop her.

“I know what you said. Now you listen to me. Chloe doesn’t have to go without a father.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… what would be wrong with just letting everyone think Dan’s right?”

“What?”

“I don’t think it would be a bad idea if we just let him think it.”

“Clark…”

“I know what you’re going to say. Lois, this is all I’ve thought about. I love Chloe as if she was mine. Why can’t we make it so?”

“Clark, I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not? I’m laying my heart out here. I’m even willing to sign papers; make her mine legally.”

Lois’ mouth fell open. She stared at him as if he had two heads. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously, Clark. You’re saying something that could have monumental consequences.”

Clark pushed up from the sofa. “I know what I’m saying. I know all the risks. We could tell her when she’s old enough to understand.”

“Could we? Don’t you think she might regret not being allowed to know her real father?”

“Lois, any man can father children. But I don’t want to be her father. I want to be her daddy. I want to be the one who holds her when she cries. I want to tuck her into bed at night. I want to read to her and watch her learn how to walk and talk. I want to teach her how to fish, take her to the first day at school, and attend PTA meetings. The past couple of weeks have been some of the best weeks of my life. I enjoy getting up with her during the night. I live to come home to see her again. Right before I get home, I get all giddy; my stomach fills with butterflies. And I see her and know I’m where I should be. I want to bathe her and sing to her while I rock her to sleep. Can you tell me Dan will do those things?”

“Shouldn’t we at least give him the chance?”

“Come on, Lois. Dan’s not made that way, and you know it. You said yourself he doesn’t believe in love.”

“That’s relationships.”

“I think this is a pretty important relationship, don’t you?”

Lois got up and walked back into the kitchen and dumped her coffee into the sink. Clark sighed and followed her.

“Did you know he thinks Taylor is mine, too?”

Lois looked out the window into the darkness. “He’s hinted as much.”

“Well, he came right out and told me.” Clark walked up behind Lois and raised his hands to her arms. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. I love Chloe. To me, she is my daughter. I know maybe I shouldn’t feel that way considering we’ve only been seeing each other such a short time, but I can’t help it. You can’t stop love. I’ve tried. It just doesn’t work.” He leaned his face next to hers. “I feel the same way about Taylor. Neither of those kids ever have to be without a daddy again.” He kissed her cheek before withdrawing. “Think about it.” He backed away and left her to think about what he had said.

Lois was so torn after he left for his patrol. How could this man possibly feel that way about her children? Sure, he had told her he felt this way— acted like he felt this way. He had said he would take on the responsibility of fatherhood. And he had said it without asking more from her.

She made her way upstairs and sat beside Chloe’s crib. Could she do something like this to Chloe? She would be playing God, in a way. Deciding one man was better to be a father than the other, even if it was true. But Clark was right. She couldn’t see Dan being the kind of father Chloe needed.

She lowered her face to her hands and started to cry softly. So many times she had wished she had just left that night, the night Chloe was conceived. Yet, she was totally in love with her daughter.

“Don’t cry, Mommy.”

Lois looked up to see Taylor standing next to her. “Honey, what are you doing up?”

“I heard you cry.” He pushed her hair back. “What’s wrong, Mommy? Is it Dan? Does he want to take Chloe away?”

“No, honey.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because someone offered to do something that I don’t know would be right.”

“Was it Clark?”

Lois cocked her head to look at her son. He was so inquisitive she often forgot he was only seven. “Yes. He wants me to let him say that Chloe is his daughter.”

Taylor thought about that for a moment. “Even though he knows she’s not?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t think Dan would be a very good father.”

“I agree with him. I don’t think Dan would be very good to Chloe.”

“But, Taylor, isn’t it wrong to let Clark do this? You remember you wanted to do the same thing.”

“This is different. Clark knows and still wants to say it. He told me he loves me like I was his son and even wished I was. And he’s all Chloe knows. Why should she have to go with Dan when Clark wants her?”

“Taylor, Mommy just doesn’t know if that would be right. What happens when she gets older and finds out?”

Taylor turned and held the bars of his sister’s crib. “What happens when she doesn’t want to go with Dan anymore because he’s just plain mean?” The boy climbed over the rail and pulled the baby close to him as he lay down beside her. “If Clark wanted to be my daddy, I’d say yes.” He kissed Chloe’s face. “I think I’ll stay here for a while, Mommy.”

“Okay, honey.” Lois rose and rubbed Taylor’s face. “Thank you, for talking to me.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, Taylor.” Lois smiled through tears and left the boy where he was. She might not be closer to an answer for this dilemma, but she knew, without a doubt, that she was the luckiest woman alive.

***

Clark was punching his keyboard a little harder than he really should. He was still upset about the whole issue with Dan. He knew his suggestion was absurd, but he couldn’t help himself. He was totally and completely in love with Chloe and wanted to protect her at all costs.

“Clark?”

He looked up into the eyes of Lana Lang. “Lana?”

“Don’t sound so thrilled to see me.”

“Ah,” Clark stammered as he rose to his feet. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Last minute change. I can’t stay long.”

“Here? In Metropolis?”

“No, in this room. Look, I want to go pick up Jon. I’ve been away so long he probably won’t even know me.”

Clark almost mumbled that was so true. “I should talk to him first.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m his mother.”

“Lana, a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”

“All the more reason I should go get him now.” Lana turned and started for the elevator. Clark was right behind her. “I’ll let him call you in a day or two.”

“Lana…”

She punched the call button and shifted impatiently while she waited for the elevator. “I figured I’d keep him until he wants to come home.”

“What?”

“You know, make up for lost time.”

“Lana… He’s not at the brownstone.”

She turned to look at Clark. “Where is he?”

“He’s at Lois’. We’ve been staying with her since the baby was born.”

“Wait. You rattle on about him staying with me and a man, but you have him living with your…”

“Don’t say it, Lana,” Clark warned her.

“Just go get my son. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”

“I can’t get away now.”

“Then call your mother and have her bring him.”

“Lana…”

“Don’t Lana me. We have joint custody. I want to see my son!”

“Okay.” Clark wanted to avoid the scene she was making. “I’ll call her.”

She stepped into the elevator. “Thanks, Clark. You’re a sweetie.”

Clark was left to stare at the closed doors of the elevator. He always let her do this to him. Suddenly he knew exactly what Lois meant when she told him she didn’t know whether it would be right to let him say Chloe was his. He hang his head and forced a breath out of his lungs. Things just went from good to awful.

***

Jon ran down the stairs when his grandmother called for him, stopping at the bottom to stare at the woman standing inside the door. His dad had called and told him that his mom wanted to see him, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Lois. So, Taylor had offered to come along.

“Hi, honey,” Lana told him as she leaned over to see him better. “You’re so big.”

Jon just stood there; his eyes never leaving hers.

Lana held out her arms. “Come give Mom a hug.” Instead of going to her, he backed further into Taylor. Lana straightened and turned angry eyes to Martha. “What have you and Clark told him?”

“We haven’t told him anything, Lana. You haven’t been here. What do you expect from him?”

“I expect him to want to see his mother!”

“You’re not my mommy!” Jon yelled. Both women turned to look at him. “My mommy would never leave me.” He had started to cry. “She love me and… and she hug me all the time.”

“Jon, sweetie, I have to work. You know this.”

“You take me, too. Wois take me to her work. At your house I watch TV. I don’t wike it there. You don’t talk to me. You don’t pway wif me. You don’t feed me.”

“Jon,” Lana started in a sweet voice. “Mom’s sorry. Come with me. I’ll show you. We’ll go to the park and the movies, and I’ll order pizza. Surely I haven’t been gone that long. It’s only been a few weeks.”

Jon shook his head. “I don’t want to.” He moved around behind Taylor.

For the first time, Lana noticed the other boy. “Who is this? Your friend?”

“I’m Taylor Lane.” He stuck out his hand to her. “Jon and I,” he glanced at the younger boy. “I guess you could say we’re like brothers.”

“Really? That close?”

“Yeah.” The older boy wrapped a protective arm around Jon’s shoulders when the woman refused to take his hand.

“Hey, I have an idea. Why doesn’t your new friend come with us? We can spend the afternoon together. If you still want to come home, I’ll bring you back.”

Jon looked from Lana to Taylor. The bigger boy smiled and nodded before he turned back to Lana. “I’d have to call my mom and ask if it’s okay.”

“Make it a quick call.”

Taylor moved over to the phone, Jon right beside him. He dialed the number to his house. “Hi, Mom?”

“Taylor! What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Nothin’. Mom, Jon’s mom is here. He doesn’t want to go with her unless I go, too. Would it be okay to spend the afternoon with them?”

“Oh, Taylor, I don’t know.”

“Please, Mom. Jon won’t go without me.” Taylor cupped the phone and turned his back to the waiting woman. “Mommy, he’s scared,” he whispered. “I gotta go.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah. ‘Member our talk last night? Maybe this will help me understand.”

Lois smiled through tears. Her son was a little man. “Okay, honey. But if you want to come home, either of you, all you have to do is call.”

“I know, Mom. We’ll be okay.”

“Tell Jon… tell him…”

“I know and so does he. Bye, Mom. Love ya’.”

“Love you.” Lois hung the phone up with very mixed emotions.

Taylor turned back to Lana. “She said okay.”

“Good.” She smiled and held out a hand to Jon. He took Taylor’s instead. She huffed softly and led the boys out the door.

Martha gave each a kiss and a hug and forced her anger to stay in check. She didn’t like Lana and was having a very difficult time not making that fact known.

***

Lana took the boys to the park. She tried to bribe Jon with ice cream and hot dogs, but he wasn’t biting. She attempted to play with them for only a few moments before her cell phone rang. She drifted over to a bench and started an animated conversation with the person on the other end.

Jon cut angry eyes at her from where they sat on the swings. “I wanna go home.”

“Come on. Maybe you should give her a break.”

Jon looked up at Taylor with tears in his eyes. “She wef me.”

“I know.” Taylor got off his swing and wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulder. “Jon, do you love your mom?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “She don’t wove me,” he pouted.

“Do you miss her when she’s gone?”

“I did.” He raised his eyes to the other boy. “Until Wois. I wish she was my mommy,” he whispered.

“It’s okay if you love her like she was,” Taylor offered.

That brought a smile to Jon’s face. “Thanks.” He glanced at Lana when she laughed. “I still wanna go home.”

“Okay.” Taylor took his hand and led him over to Lana. He waited patiently until she looked up at him in disgust.

“What?” she snapped.

“We want to go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We just got here.”

“We want to go home,” he repeated.

Lana looked at him incredulously. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” the boy told her. When she waved him off and returned to her conversation, he took Jon’s hand and started toward the nearest pay phone. He carefully dialed his house number.

“Taylor?!” Lois answered after the operator clicked her over.

“Mom, we want to come home, and Ms. Lang won’t bring us.”

“Where are you?”

“The park, on the south side.”

“I’m on the way.”

Taylor hung up the phone and took Jon to sit on a bench so they could see the entrance to the park. Lana was still wrapped up in her phone call. She hadn’t even noticed they had walked away from her.

Twenty minutes later, Jon’s face lit up when he saw Lois’ jeep stop outside the park gates. He jumped up and raced to her. She was around the jeep and kneeling to catch him as he launched himself into her arms.

“Are you okay?” She drew back to look at him, then over at Taylor. “Where is she?” Taylor pointed to where Lana sat on the nearby bench. “Why don’t you guys go wait in the car?” She waited until the boys had climbed into the jeep and locked the doors before she approached Lana.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Lana covered the phone with her hand. “You,” she said when she noticed it was Lois.

“I’m taking Jon and Taylor home.” She turned and started toward the gate.

Lana clicked her phone shut and stood up to follow Lois. She reached out and snatched her around. “And what gives you the right to take my son anywhere?”

“They called and said they wanted to go home, and you refused to take them.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have every right to spend time with my son.”

“On the phone?” Lana glared angrily at Lois. “Taylor is my son. When he told you he wanted to go home, you should have brought him.”

“They were okay. They were playing.”

“That’s not the point. They wanted to go home. You should have took them. Period!” Lois turned and stormed away from the woman. If she stayed another moment, she might not be able to control her temper.

***

Clark arrived home to see a police cruiser in front of his brownstone. He ran up the stairs when he heard Jon screaming. He burst through the door to see the officer pulling Jon from Lois’ arms.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

“Is this the father?” the officer asked Lana. She nodded.

“Mr. Kent, Ms. Lang has custody papers that state she has equal access to her son. She’s requesting he go with her now for her allotted visit. Your mother refused to make him because he said he didn’t want to go. Ms. Lang called so we could help enforce the order. I don’t know who this lady is, but she took the child illegally from the park this afternoon. Ms. Lang has agreed not to press charges if the child comes now. She has the legal right to take him.”

Clark turned very angry eyes to Lana. “You’re making him go?”

“I want to see my son.”

“Lana, he doesn’t want to go.”

“Clark, he’s not old enough to know what’s best for him.”

“Oh and you do?”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not?! No one made you leave. No one kept you from calling him. You didn’t even send him so much as a card. Don’t make him do this!”

“You don’t tell me what to do with my son!” Lana turned and stalked to the door. The officer understood and pulled Jon’s arms from around Lois’ neck.

“No! Daddy! Don’t make me go! No!” He was kicking and screaming.

Lois was crying and shaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She turned and ran from the room.

Clark attempted to reach for Jon, but the officer rushed him through the door.

“Daaadddyyy!”

Clark was about to go after him when his mother put a hand on his arm. He looked down at the hand with pain filled eyes. Her strong, steady gaze stopped him from doing something he would regret.

From the landing at the top of the stairs, Taylor wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He jumped up and ran upstairs to the room Chloe was sleeping in. His small hand smoothed her cheek. “I won’t ever let anybody take you away like that. I promise.”

***

Lois found Clark in Jon’s room, curled up in the middle of his bed. She eased down beside him. “Clark.”

He rolled over to face her. “I can’t believe I let him go,” he said softly.

“You had no choice.”

He stared out the window. “I wonder what he’s doing. I bet he’s so scared.”

“Yeah.”

Clark seemed to come out of his pity and sat up to face Lois. “That’s why I want Chloe.”

“Clark…”

“No! Lois, I would never mistreat her or Taylor. If that’s what’s bothering you, I’ll sign papers on both of them. I want them, Lois. Can you say the same for Dan?”

“Don’t do this now.”

Clark angrily got off the bed. “Fine! Have it your way. Let the bastard tear her away from you like Lana did Jon today.” He stopped at the door and turned to her. “Lois, you were here. You know what it felt like.”

“I also know how Lana feels.”

“What?!”

“Jon is her son. She has the right to be with him.”

“Listen to what you’re saying. Lana has no idea how to be a mother. You saw that today. Mom told me about the trip to the park. That’s Lana. Not sometimes. All the time.”

“Then why the hell did you get tangled up with her to start with?” The question left her lips before she could stop it. She was angry and hurt and couldn’t control all the emotions she was feeling. As much as it had hurt to see Jon ripped from her arms today, she did know how Lana felt. In that very first moment of pain, she had briefly thought about doing what Clark wanted. But as she had cooled off, she had considered the whole situation, from every view point. While agreeing to allow Clark to become Chloe’s father would be so easy, she knew Dan had to be the one to make that decision.

Clark stared at her in shock. The expression on his face ripped through her like a knife. In that instant, she knew exactly how Clark had felt the day he had painfully reminded her Chloe wasn’t his daughter. He whirled around, snatched open the door, and almost ran to his room.

Lois dropped her head when he slammed his door hard enough to shake the house. Slowly, she stood and went to find Taylor and Chloe. Her statement had possibly caused irreparable damage. She had to go home before she made things worse.

***

Lana contacted Clark the next day to inform him that she would be keeping Jon for two weeks. A quick call to his attorney told him there wasn’t much he could do about it. When Jon refused to talk to him on the phone, he knew things would never be the same again.

Clark spent most of his time at work and on his Superman duties. When he was at home, he barely spoke. The first day or two Lois came to pick up the kids she attempted to talk to him, but he would make up an excuse to leave. Martha quickly tired of the incredible tension between the young couple so she opted to keep the children at Lois’ until things could be worked out. Unfortunately, both Lois and Clark had very long stubborn streaks and held on to their pride.

Taylor was as angry as everyone else by the end of the following week. Refusing to talk to Lois, he moped around the house without Jon and Clark. It was he who called Clark to say good night now. Other than that, he had almost stopped talking and sat looking out of the window for hours on end. The only time he seemed to smile was when he was with Chloe.

Lois, too, was dying inside. She might have understood a little of why Lana did what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that a piece of her heart had been ripped from her arms that day. The look on Jon’s face was seared into her memory. It was almost impossible not to close her eyes and see it. To make things worse, Clark refused to talk to her. She had tried several times to apologize for what she had said; he just wouldn’t listen. To make matters worse, she was also worried about her son. How did she help him through this when she didn’t know what to do herself? It was almost time for Lana to bring Jon home. She prayed the small boy’s return would bring Taylor out of his fog. And maybe everyone else would be able to work through their differences as well.

***

Clark watched through the window in the den as Lana took Jon out of her car. The boy followed her up the stairs obediently, and he could tell something wasn’t quite right. By the time Martha opened the door for them, the man was nearly trembling in anticipation and apprehension.

Martha smiled and hugged Jon, who wasn’t too interested. She frowned as she pulled back to look at him, but his eyes remained lowered. She cast a worried glance up at Clark.

“Jon.” Clark stepped toward his son hesitantly.

Jon eased closer to his mother. “I wanna wiv wif my mommy,” the small voice said.

“What?”

“I don’t wanna wiv here no more. I wanna wiv wif Mommy.”

Clark’s heart was pounding loudly in his ears as he kneeled in front of Jon. “Jon, son, you can stay with Mom any time you want. I just want to spend time with you, too.” Hadn’t he told him that before? Didn’t Jon know how much he loved him and wanted to be with him?

Jon hid his face against Lana’s leg, and she put a hand on his head. “I need you to keep him this week while I make arrangements for him to come with me on my next shoot.”

Clark was still staring at Jon, barely hearing what she had said. “Did I do this?” Fear was quickly replacing the apprehension.

Lana leaned over and lifted Jon’s chin. “Be a good boy. If I can get a nanny before Friday, I’ll come get you.” He nodded as best he could with her holding his face. “Who’s my big boy?”

“I am,” he said flatly.

She smiled and released him. “Have his things together,” she told Clark. “We’ll be gone for three months. The shoot’s in California. He’ll love it.” With a wave, she was gone.

Clark was almost in tears as he watched Jon standing at the door. He looked so lost— the hurt evident in his expression. When the boy looked up at him and spoke, the world shattered into a million pieces.

“I hate you,” he whispered, then ran up the stairs.

Clark could hardly breathe, barely see. Spots danced behind his eyes as pain shot through his heart. This hurt worse than Kryptonite. He clutched his stomach as he struggled with this revelation. What did he do? How did he handle this? He had never imagined his own son would utter those words to him.

Behind him, Martha covered her mouth then ran up after Jon.

***

When Clark thought he could pull himself to his feet, he got up to go talk to Jon. His mother stopped him at the door and told him to give the little guy some time. Clark closed himself up in his own room, only coming out to attempt to coax Jon into talking to him. The young boy was just as stubborn as his father and refused. Two days later Jon still hadn’t come out, and Clark was utterly devastated.

Martha was at her wits end. She had phoned Lois and told her that the children would have to go to work with her while she tried to restore her family. Jon wouldn’t leave his room and hadn’t spoken a word since he had said what he had to Clark. He refused to see Taylor or talk to him or Lois. He ate very little of what Martha brought to him and had reverted to wetting his pants and sucking his thumb.

As day three approached, Martha had to call in help.

“Lois Lane?” With nothing to fill her time, Lois had returned to work after only five weeks on maternity leave. She had hoped the time would help her sort out how she felt, but it wasn’t working.

“Lois, it’s Martha.”

“Hi. Are things better?”

“No. Lois, I don’t know what to do. Jon hasn’t spoken, and Clark only comes out of his room to try to get him to. Jon won’t eat, and he’s started wetting his pants.”

“Oh, God! I’m on the way.” She slammed the phone down and gathered up the children. Martha had been sugar coating the situation at Clark’s. She hadn’t told her it was this bad.

By the time she got to the brownstone, Lana was pulling away from the curb. She hurried into the den to find Martha holding her head in her hands.

“Martha? What’s wrong?” She shifted the baby as she sat down beside the woman.

“Lana took Jon.” She lifted her head. “Jon told Clark he wanted to live with her when she brought him home. He also told Clark he hated him.”

“Oh, God! Jon must have been so confused when she made him go. That witch! She had to have told him horrible things for him to say that to Clark.”

“I know, but he wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t talk at all. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just felt you and Clark…”

“It’s okay, Martha.” Lois covered the other woman’s hand with her own.

Martha offered a small smile to the grinning baby. “Come here, sweetie. Nana has missed you.” She took Chloe and held her close.

Lois looked around for Taylor only to find him half way up the stairs.

Clark’s head jerked around when his door opened. He stared at Taylor.

Taylor looked at the man sitting next to the French doors. He was wearing only shorts and hadn’t shaved or brushed his hair in days. Worse yet, even his seven-year-old mind could tell the man’s spirit was broken.

The boy closed the door and walked slowly over to Clark. He placed a small hand on Clark’s head. “Jon’s gone.”

Clark’s eyes filled with tears. “I know.”

Suddenly the little boy balled up his fist and hit Clark. “You’re a big fat fake! You said you loved us. But you let Jon stay in his room for three days. You’re his daddy. You should have went in there and held him till he loved you again!” He pounded Clark’s chest as he yelled. “Now he’s gone and thinks you don’t want him!” He drew his hands back and took a step away from Clark. “I wanted you to be my daddy,” he said in a softer voice. “I wanted you to be Chloe’s daddy. You can’t even be Jon’s… and he’s yours.”

Taylor turned and ran from the room. That worked. Clark sat straight up.

“Taylor!” He was on his feet and after the boy.

Lois and Martha looked up when Taylor and Clark ran into the room. Taylor stopped at the end of one of the sofas and stared at Clark.

The large man was trembling as he held out his hand. “Taylor, I’m so sorry. I do love you. I do. And I love Chloe and Jon.” He took a step toward the boy. “I’m not sure I know how to breathe without you guys. That’s why these past few days have been so painful. Jon told me he hates me, and I let it tear me apart. I stayed shut away from him, from you, from everything because I was feeling sorry for myself. I tried to talk to him. When he wouldn’t, I let it rip my heart apart. I should have tried harder.” Clark stepped closer. “Taylor please. Help me.” He dropped to his knees. “I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t hurt you again.”

“And Jon? What about Jon?”

“We’ll go see Jon. Lana’s not taking him to California until next week. I’ll go take a shower, and we’ll go to Jon. I’ll tell him I’m sorry.”

“And you’ll tell him you love him?”

“Yes. I’ll tell him I love him.”

“What if he still wants to stay there?”

“Then I hope you’ll hold my hand until I quit shaking.” Clark looked down at his hands. He was nearly crying again when he looked back up at Taylor. “I hope you’ll hang out with me… Let me love you,” he finished in a whisper.

Taylor shot across the small space and threw his arms around Clark’s neck. The powerful man sobbed as he clung to the boy. The two ladies on the sofa were crying with him as they watched them.

Taylor turned his face into Clark’s neck. “I love you, Clark.”

The man cradled Taylor’s head while he kissed his face. “I love you, too, Taylor.” He drew back enough to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot that I’m not alone anymore.” His hand came up to cup a small cheek. “I won’t forget again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Clark leaned over and kissed Taylor. “You’re amazing.”

The boy smiled before he pulled away from Clark, reached down and tugged him to his feet. “Come on. You have to shower. My brother needs us.”

Clark chuckled and followed him up the stairs.

Half an hour later, a clean-shaven, Clark and Taylor came down the stairs. Clark had dressed casually in jeans and a pull over shirt, and he looked ten times better.

“Mommy, we’re going to see Jon.”

Lois smiled at the pair. She had to take a breath. They looked great together.

Clark let Taylor’s hand go and walked over to his mother to pull Chloe into his arms. He closed his eyes, held her close, and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. Everyone seemed to understand he needed to be alone with her when he drifted into the dining room.

Clark cradled her head and held her back to look at her. “I know you don’t understand what’s going on, but you can feel that things aren’t right. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to change that.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Chloe. For someone who claims to want to be your daddy I sure haven’t been doing a very good job. That’s going to change.” He hugged her again before taking her back out to his mom.

“Ah, I guess we need to go.” The women nodded. He turned to Taylor. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

Clark stopped at the door to face Lois. “I’d like to see you later, if that’s okay?”

“Sure. Why don’t you and Taylor hang out the rest of the day? You can bring him home tonight, and we can talk.”

“Okay.” Clark smiled and followed Taylor out the door.

***

A short time later Lana opened her door to Clark and Taylor. She snorted her indignation. “What do you want, Clark? He wants to stay with me.”

“I know. I would just like to talk to him for a moment.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open. Jon was sitting on the couch staring at the television. He didn’t even look up when everyone entered the room.

“Jon?” Clark sat down on the sofa. “Son, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you thought I made you come that first day. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you when you were with Mommy. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more while you were at the house. If you want to live with Mommy, it’s okay. I won’t try to talk you out of it. I hope you’ll want to come see me again one day, but I won’t make you. And Jon, I love you.”

The little boy’s head turned to look up at his father.

“I love you with all my heart.” Jon nodded and turned back to the television. “I’ll miss you.”

“Me, too,” Taylor added. Jon got off the couch, waved at Taylor, and left the room.

Clark let out a long breath. “Guess we can’t do any more.”

“He’ll be okay. He just needs time.”

Clark smiled sadly and stood. “Lana, tell him I’ll call.”

She retrieved a card from the desk in the hall. “This is the number to the hotel we’ll be staying at.”

Clark took it, looked down the hall one last time, then left. Taylor took his hand as they walked out the door of the building.

“I won’t let go till you quit shaking,” he told the man.

Clark looked down at him. Not being able to stand it, he pulled the boy into his arms. “How about I hold on to you till I quit shaking?”

Taylor wrapped his arms around Clark’s neck and rested his head on a large shoulder as the pair made their way down the sidewalk. It was going to be a long three months.

***

By the time Clark and Taylor made it to Lois’, Taylor was fast asleep. She opened the door for Clark to take him up to his bed. Clark came back down to the den ten minutes later. Lois was sitting on the end of the sofa with her legs drawn under her. She patted the cushion next to her, and Clark eased down beside her.

Without a word she pulled him to her chest and held him while he let his feelings go.

Lois’ hand played with Clark’s hair where his head lay in her lap. They had been that way for over an hour. She felt he needed the comfort more than anything.

“I’m sorry.”

Lois smiled. “I know. So am I.”

“I love you.”

She tilted his head so she could see his eyes. “I love you.”

Clark pushed up so that he was face to face with Lois. “How do I live without Jon?”

“You don’t. You call him every day. You send letters and cards, e-mail. And you tell him you love him.”

“Taylor said the same thing.”

“Yeah, well, Taylor’s a smart boy.”

Clark smiled at her. “Lois, I won’t pressure you about them again. But I do intend to show you I meant what I said.”

Lois ran her fingers through his hair. “And I won’t ever say anything about Lana again. Clark, I didn’t mean it.”

“No. You’re right. I should have never given in that night. Although Jon is the result. And I can’t say I regret having him.”

“I know that. That’s why what I said was way out of line. I wouldn’t take anything in the world for Jon. There has to be some good in Lana somewhere. She helped make him.”

“I feel the same way about Dan. And I do understand about you wanting them to know each other.”

“I understand you wanting to protect her.” Lois wiped at a tear that had found its way down her cheek. “When Lana took Jon that day, I felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. I wanted to protect him. I wanted to smack the blonde out of her hair.”

Clark laughed softly. “So did I.” He rubbed his hand up and down her side. “I’m so worried about him. He thinks I made him go. Lana probably told him terrible things. He has to be so confused and in so much pain. What do I do?”

“Love him, Clark. Do everything you can think of so he’ll know you’re still here and always will be.”

“I will.” Clark nestled his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Has Dan asked to see Chloe yet?”

“No.” He leaned back to look at her. “I still haven’t told him about her. I don’t know if I want to,” she finished in a whisper.

Clark swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut as he hugged her again. “Lois, I’ll support whatever you want to do. But, honey, if you tell him, you and Dan have to do everything you can to be friends. Don’t do to her what Lana and I have done to Jon.”

Lois pulled him tighter against her. “I know,” she said softly. Her hand came up to his face. “Clark, I want you to stay with me tonight.”

He looked up at her. Everything he needed to know was said in that exchange. Their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss. A few minutes later he stood and held out his hand to Lois, then they made their way upstairs in silence. Clark stepped into Taylor’s room and placed a kiss on his head. Lois smiled as she continued to hold his hand when he stepped into Chloe’s room to give her a kiss before he led Lois into her room. The door was closed and locked before he turned and started undressing her.

“Is it okay to do this? It hasn’t been six weeks yet.”

“Five and half,” she told him as the heat in her body rose. “Saw the doctor yesterday.” She turned her head as Clark nibbled at her neck. “But, honey… we need to take precautions now.”

Clark’s head snapped up. “I’m doing it again. I’m so sorry.” He was making assumptions where their intimacy was concerned.

“Stop.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Mmm… I guess I should run to the store.”

“No need. I bought something weeks ago.”

Clark grinned as he leaned to kiss Lois again. “Were you planning on getting lucky?”

“Just hoping,” she told him as he started to finish undressing her.

“Clark…”

“Shhh. No talking. Just feel.”

Lois closed her eyes as he began to worship her the way only he could.

“God, Lois, you are so beautiful,” he whispered as he drew away from a particularly mind blowing kiss a moment later. “I want you so much.”

“I’m yours, honey.” Lois reassured him with a warm hand on his cheek.

Clark’s gaze was as intense as she had ever seen it as he began his glorious exploration once again.

“Wow!” The only word Lois could say when they lay staring up at the ceiling a while later.

“You can say that again.” When each had gathered enough breath for coherent thought, Clark spoke. “Did you call me ‘honey’?”

“Uhhh… I did.” Her arm tightened around his waist where she had pulled close

“I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

Clark kissed the top of Lois’ head. “I need to go…” He motioned toward the bathroom. She giggled as he disappeared in the other room. When he came back, he pulled down the covers to get under. Lois scrambled in behind him and snuggled close, content to let all her thoughts rest for tonight. They would think about everything tomorrow.

***

Clark ran a hand over his face to stop the annoying itch he felt. A second later he felt it again. This time he heard a muffled giggle. He opened one eye to see Taylor standing in front of him holding Chloe.

“Get up, sleepyhead. You’ll be late for work.”

Clark smiled and rolled to his side. “Oh really?”

“Uh huh.” Taylor shifted the baby. When she saw Clark, her face lit up.

Clark held out his hands to take the baby. “Hey, Sunshine.” He kissed her head. “How are you this morning?”

Taylor climbed onto the bed beside Clark. “Will you come eat lunch with us today?”

“If I can get away.” Clark held the baby above his head, exciting giggles. “Listen to you.” He pulled her down and kissed her cheek. “Where’s Mom?”

“Downstairs. She got a call from some baseball player.”

“Ah, Tony Bower. She’s been trying to sign him for months.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Taylor looked down at Clark. “Did you have sex with my mom?”

Clark nearly choked. He drew the baby back to rest against his chest and looked at the boy in total surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Well did you?”

Clark pushed up to a sitting position. “And just what do you know about sex?”

“I know that’s how babies are made.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Grandpa told me.”

“Did he tell you what sex is exactly?”

“No. But I think it’s when you kiss a lot and sleep in the same bed. Joey’s mom and dad do that, and they have six kids.”

Clark couldn’t contain his laughter. He leaned over and kissed Taylor’s head. “It’s a little something like that. I don’t know how to explain this to you. Let’s see. Sex is when two people share their bodies with each other.”

“Sort of like good touching and bad touching?”

“A little. But when they do this, they do touch each other. And it’s okay because they want the other person to do it.”

Taylor’s brow furrowed at Clark. “You mean you touched my mom? That’s… that’s gross.”

Clark smiled at him. “It’s okay, Taylor. She wanted me to.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So sex is kissing and touching and sleeping in the same bed?”

“Well, all that and more, but I really don’t think you’re old enough to know about that now.”

“I think you’re right. I think all I need to know is that you love my mommy and would never hurt her.”

“Not a chance, big guy. Mommy means the world to me.”

“Good.” Taylor climbed from the bed and took Chloe. “You can stay over any time you want.”

“Thank you. And you and Chloe can stay with me any time you want.”

“Can we… stay tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

“‘Kay.” Taylor turned and started for the door. “Get a shower,” he called over his shoulder. He passed his mom in the hall. “‘Morning beautiful,” he told her without stopping.

Lois just stared after him until he was half way down the stairs. She made her way into the bedroom just in time to see Clark climb from the bed. She whistled her appreciation of his firm rear end before he could pull the cover around him.

He faced her with a huge smile and red cheeks. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She sauntered over for a brief kiss. “I just signed Bower.”

“That’s great, honey.” Clark pushed her hair off her face and leaned to kiss her neck. “We should celebrate.”

“Mmm. What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of dinner, a little dancing, and a flight to this little island I know of. We could make love under the waterfall.”

“Ooo, that sounds wonderful.”

Clark sucked gently on the skin of her neck before pulling back. “I should warn you that boy of ours has been asking questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“He asked me if I had sex with his mother.”

Lois pulled away from Clark, upset with her son. “What?”

“Relax. We had a talk.”

“So what did you tell him?”

“I basically told him yes.”

“Clark!”

“Come on, Lois. I’d rather for him to hear what sex really is from me than some kid at school who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“And from you it’s…”

“It’s mutual touching, kissing, being together.”

“Clark Kent!”

“What? Did you want me to tell him that his idea was right? We can’t have him thinking that every time we kiss or sleep together we’ll have a baby.”

“I know.” She sighed and flopped on the bed. “I just forget that Taylor is too smart for his own good.”

Clark sat down beside her, rubbing her back. “Taylor is brilliant, just like his mother. I promise I won’t give him the unabridged version until he’s at least eight and half.”

Lois pushed at him. He chuckled softly and drew her closer. “Last night was amazing.”

Clark ran his fingers through her hair. “It was.” He kissed her nose. “You are amazing. How is it you knew what I needed?”

“Because it’s what I needed,” she said with a grin.

“That’s not what I meant. Lois, the physical aspect of last night paled in comparison to how I felt inside.”

“You know, I think you just gave me a permanent ego boost.”

“And you filled me with life,” he whispered a second before his lips met hers.

“Hey! You can’t take a shower kissing my mom.”

The adults turned and laughed at a smiling boy. “Okay, okay,” Clark mumbled as he stood up, taking the sheet with him so he could stay covered. “Sheez, can’t a guy have any fun?”

“Watch it, Kent. That’s my mother you’re talking about.”

Clark chuckled and closed the bathroom door. Taylor and Lois shared a laugh as well.

***

The next week found Clark making up for lost time as Superman. He saved an airplane from crashing, assisted in countless robberies, stopped two rapes, a dozen muggings, and even averted lava flow from a volcano on an island in the Pacific. Lois had felt using his powers would be therapeutic and take his mind off missing Jon for a while. She was right.

But missing Jon was a constant ache in everyone’s hearts. Clark called him at least three times a day before he left for California with Lana, then once a day after, even though most days Jon would only say hi and bye. He sent a card every morning and a letter every night along with about five e-mails a day. He was determined to show the boy that he would always love him no matter what.

Lois and Clark had once again put things into perspective as far as their budding relationship was concerned. Clark stayed nights with Lois and the children at her house, or they stayed with him at the brownstone. He spent a great deal of time with Taylor and Chloe. Long walks, even longer talks, and play became his saving grace. Reading bedtime stories was also popular. He answered a million and one questions with all the patience and honesty he possessed.

Clark had long ago given up on his dreams of Lois Lane, reconciling himself to a lonely future save for Jon and his mom. To actually be able to love the woman that he had longed for all these years was incredible. He often caught himself just staring at her. He was falling deeper by the day. That realization scared him as much as it thrilled him. He kept believing that it was all just a dream he would wake up from at some point. If he could work things out with Jon, his world would be complete.

Lois had to remind herself daily that she wasn’t dreaming. There was actually a man that cared about her and what she thought. Clark was unlike any man she had ever known. He was attentive, compassionate, and funny. She didn’t mind spending hours listening to him talk. And she certainly didn’t mind spending hours making love with him.

As much as he was wonderful, he was also special. Lois had begun to help Clark with his other persona without realizing she was doing it. She would make excuses for him when they were with the children. She found herself watching the news for his every move. Clark was nothing short of magical to Lois. He had taken her breath away the first time he had taken her flying. They had hovered among the stars, Lois becoming intimately acquainted with the allusive superhero the world longed to know. Clark was sharing himself completely with Lois, and she was loving every second. Her only regret was the horrible pain she could feel in him over the loss of Jon. She hoped they would soon find their way back to each other again. It was her idea for him start a novel to help allay his anxieties.

Slowly the weeks drifted by. Clark spent hours with his new best friend. He and Lois were falling deeper in love with each day that passed. Friday night dates became a regular occurrence, and Saturday mornings found them playing with the kids.

Taylor was happier than he had ever been. The relationship he shared with Clark was what he had been missing for so long. The little boy had boasted a bright eyed smile as Clark took him to school his first day back. As promised, Clark coached his little league football team as summer slowly faded into fall. He missed Jon terribly, refusing to allow his room to be remodeled until Jon was there to help. He, too, wrote Jon daily and talked to him on the phone. His favorite pastime became sleeping in Jon’s bed, so he would feel close to him. And without Jon, Chloe was always by his side. It was never far from his mind if Lois would call Dan, and he would come for her the way Lana had come for Jon. If that happened, the boy wasn’t sure he would make it.

Lois took over as the big boss at the Lane Agency and was surprised with a small party from Clark and Taylor. She was thrilled with photos Clark had gotten Jimmy to take of the baby and Taylor. Lois surprised them all when she hung an empty frame on the wall next to the others and declared it would stay that way until one of Jon could fill it. Clark made love to her on her office desk later that day.

Before anyone knew it, nearly two months had drifted by. Jon still only said a couple of words to his father on the phone, Martha and Sam spent a great deal of time together, Lois and Clark were both contemplating taking their relationship to the next level, and Taylor and Chloe were growing by leaps and bounds.

***

Lois looked up from her work when a knock came at her office door. “Come in.” Hoping Clark had decided to surprise her today, the way he often did, she was almost shocked when Dan pushed the door open.

“Hey, sugar blossom,” he said in his annoying little boy’s voice.

“Dan. Whatcha’ need? I’m a little busy here.” She hadn’t known how she would handle this day when it finally came— and she knew it would come eventually. Unable to bring herself to call him, she knew it was only a matter of time before he would show up. She almost felt relief because seeing him didn’t bother her half as much as she had feared it would. She was certain her new relationship had a lot to do with that.

“Good to see you, too, Lois.” Dan drifted into the room and sat down across from Lois. “Look, I’ve gotten a job offer in Atlanta. Garcia needs a promoter. It’s too good to pass up.” Lois put her pen down to look at him. “But I heard you’d had the baby.”

Lois stared down at her desk for a long while before she answered Dan. “Yes.”

“I, ah, hear you and Kent are pretty tight. Guess he’s chosen to be a man and take care of his responsibilities.”

Days of painful hours without Jon filled Lois’ heart. His screaming and crying as he was ripped from her arms came back to her with a vengeance. So did the many wonderful memories that were filling her home now.

“Clark and I are raising Chloe just fine thank you.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say what she was thinking.

“Chloe? That’s a great name. Is that her?” His eyes shot to a photo on the wall.

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful. Of course, you and Kent make pretty babies.”

“What?”

“Hell, Lois, look at Taylor. He’s a good-looking kid.”

Something Clark told her that Dan had said came back to her, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Dan, did you tell Clark you thought Taylor was his?”

“I told him I knew it.”

“When?”

“When I asked him to…” He realized what he was about to say and stopped to look at her. “Ah, before he left Metropolis after we were married.”

“That’s not what you were going to say. You were going to say after you asked him to leave. You asked him to leave. How dare you?!”

“I just thought it best. Damn, you were crazy over him, and I couldn’t get Taylor to do anything with him here.”

Lois’ anger was barely being contained as she sat there listening to him. “And don’t you think if Taylor was really his, he would have stayed no matter what? He’s not like you. He would never walk out on his child. You know damn well Chloe is yours and so does he. But Clark’s the one being the daddy you refuse to be.” She shot to her feet, renewed anger surging to the surface. “I can’t believe you cost him and Taylor so many years. You bastard!”

“Come on, Lois. Don’t be so dramatic. You got what you wanted.”

“Yeah. But look at the price I’ve paid— the price we’ve paid!”

“What price?” Dan rose as his voice did. “You have Kent and his bastard kids.”

Lois drew back and slapped Dan as hard as she could. “Don’t you ever…”

Dan put his hand on his face. Suddenly he was angry beyond belief. “Okay, Little Miss CEO. If you want to play hardball, we will. We’ll see how tough you are when I haul your ass to court and take that kid away from you. If she’s really mine, there’s no way in hell I’m letting Kent raise her!”

“What judge in his right mind would give you custody?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re living with Kent. Judges frown upon unmarried couples, especially those with small kids. And I hear Kent has a kid that lives with his mother. Maybe I should get acquainted with her.” He spun on his heel and stormed from the office.

Lois was left heaving breathlessly in anger. That’s not what she needed, not now. She and Clark were building a strong relationship— had finally learned to cope with everything that happened with Jon. If Dan got hooked up with Lana, they could cause considerable misery. Why didn’t she listen to Clark and just let him sign the papers to say he was Chloe’s dad? They wouldn’t have to worry about something Dan might or might not do. Lois had no doubt Dan would pursue this just to get back at her. He could care less about Chloe.

The ringing phone calmed Lois only slightly. She would wrap up her day and get home as fast as she could. She and Clark needed to talk… right after she gave him a piece of her mind.

***

Lois was pacing the floor in her den when Clark finally made it to her place that night. She had left word with his mother that she needed to see him.

“Honey?” Clark called the time he stepped through the back door.

Lois stopped and glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me he asked you to leave?”

“Who?”

“Dan! He told me, Clark. He told me he asked you to leave before.”

Clark sighed and dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing you and Taylor a favor.”

“By lying to us?! You said you couldn’t pass up that job offer.”

“I did get a job in LA,” he told her as he met her eyes again. “Only I called them. I did lie about that.”

“Why?! Why did you leave us?!”

“Because I couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing you with Dan. Seeing him with Taylor. It was killing me. I had to leave. If I’d stayed, I would have done something I would have regretted.”

“But you left us!” Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she yelled at him. She couldn’t believe how much this hurt.

“I know. And I’ve paid for it every day of my life since.”

Lois clutched her body as she paced the room. She knew he had been hurt, but that still didn’t dampen her anger any. And what about Dan? Now she had to tell him what he had said. She finally turned back to him. “He saw pictures of the baby.”

Clark could feel the tightening in his chest. “Does he want to see her?”

“Well, see, here’s the thing. He started going on about what beautiful babies we make, and then he told me about asking you to leave. When he got to the part where he called Taylor and Chloe your bastards…”

“What?!”

“I slapped him.”

Clark couldn’t suppress the small smile that played across his lips. “Good for you.”

“Not good. Now he’s pissed and says he’s going to file for custody just to get back at me. Said he’d make sure the judge knew you and I lived together.”

“We don’t live together, not technically.”

“Dan could care less. One night to him is major commitment.” She stopped pacing and thrust her hand through her hair. “He plans to introduce himself to Lana.”

“Wouldn’t that be a blast?”

“Yeah.”

Clark moved forward to reach out to touch her arm gently. “Lois, no matter what happens, I love you, and I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, and he’s not getting Chloe.”

“Why didn’t I just let you sign the papers?”

“Shh…” Clark lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ll get through this. If I can live without Jon, we can live with Dan.”

“You told him?”

Lois and Clark turned to see Taylor standing in the doorway. Lois slowly faced the boy. “Taylor, I didn’t call him. He came to see me. One thing led to another…”

“And he’s going to try to take Chloe?”

“We won’t let that happen, honey.”

“The same way we didn’t let Lana take Jon?”

“Taylor, that’s not fair.”

“Don’t tell me what’s fair! You could have said yes when Clark wanted to sign the papers! He couldn’t take her if you’d said yes!”

“Taylor! I don’t think that tone’s called for. You apologize to your mother,” Clark told him with a forceful tone and gave him a stern glare.

Taylor looked up at Clark with tear filled eyes. “If he takes her, I’ll never forgive you.” His eyes shifted to his mother. “Either of you.”

***

Clark couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t think it was possible for the boy to be this way. Yet, he didn’t let his words hurt him the way he had Jon’s. He had learned a lot since that day. Clark reached down to grasp Taylor’s arm. “I think you need to go to your room. I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

Taylor jerked from Clark. “And I know why Jon hates you,” he spat and ran away.

The painful words Jon had yelled at Clark were just repeated again in the den in Clark’s mind. Clark took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Taylor’s words hang in the air. ‘I hate you!’ was not the exact words he had said, but they hurt just as badly. He might have learned a lot in the past few months but that hurt like hell. Lois’ hand on his face brought him back around.

“Shhh, honey, he didn’t mean it.” She was kissing his face.

Clark clung to Lois tightly. He couldn’t find any words for how he was feeling. His happy family was suddenly not so happy or as full as it had once been. And he wasn’t sure how to put it all back together again.

The next morning Clark found Taylor sitting in the rocking chair next to Chloe’s crib. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had made with Jon. He wouldn’t allow such a gap to come between them. He eased down to his knees beside the boy. “Taylor.”

“He’s gonna take her away,” the boy said.

“What?”

“Dan… he’ll take her away and we won’t ever see her again.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” He rose and climbed into her crib and pulled Chloe to him. “I’ve lost my brother, and soon I’ll lose my sister.” The tears fell from his eyes as he clung to the baby. “I don’t want to go to school today.”

Clark rose and reached down to smooth his hair. “Okay. How about I stay home with you? Me and you and Chloe can hang out.”

The boy nodded and rolled over away from Clark. The man took a deep breath and left him alone. At least the little guy was still talking to him.

He found Lois slipping into her jacket to leave. “Will you take Taylor to school and Chloe to your mom’s?”

“They’re not going today.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna hang out here with them today. He feels really bad.”

Lois stopped her dressing to look at Clark. “Should I stay?”

“No. You go on.” He held her jacket for her to put her other arm in. “We’ll be okay.”

Lois kissed him softly. “What would we do without you?”

“And I without you… Now, go!”

She smiled while he held the door open for her to leave. Clark called Perry and went back upstairs to see if he could help his son understand everything that was happening, even though he didn’t understand it himself.

***

Taylor had blown Clark away with his tearful apology for yelling at him. He promised never to hurt anyone that way again. The boy took Clark’s breath away for the second time when he told the man he knew Clark was Superman. After a long, careful discussion, the boys took Chloe to Martha and went flying.

Clark flew Taylor to a small island to spend the day talking. The bond created that day was one that was stronger than even being bound by blood could create. When Lois arrived home, there was a hot supper and two slightly happier guys waiting for her.

Taylor settled between the grown-ups to watch television. That night they all shared his mother’s bed. The comfort was essential for the trials that lay ahead.

***

“Ms. Lane, there’s a process server here to see you,” Debbie told Lois over her intercom just two days later.

“I’m coming.” Lois walked the distance to the lobby. A young man greeted her and handed over an official envelope. Her fears had been realized in record time. Dan had filed to have Chloe’s paternity proven. The fight had begun.

Lois allowed her anger to surface, and she directed it at Clark. They had a huge fight. Clark ended up taking Taylor home with him, but Lois refused to let him take Chloe. In a few days, Lois would be forced to take her daughter to a lab to prove her father was really her father. How had she been so blind?

Clark and Taylor rented videos and took take-out back to Clark’s place. They piled up in Clark’s bed and shut the world away for the rest of the day.

Clark rolled over the next morning expecting to find Taylor. Instead he found Lois. She was staring at him from her side of the bed.

He didn’t say a word, just lay there looking back at her. They stayed that way for nearly ten minutes before Clark closed the distance between them and kissed her. Lois moaned and thrust her tongue into Clark’s mouth. Their encounter was immediately passionate and out of control.

In their afterglow they lay on their sides, once again looking at one another. “I’m sorry, Clark,” Lois told him.

“So am I.” His hand gripped her hip. “We seem to spend a lot of time fighting, don’t we?”

Lois wiped a tear as it rolled down the side of her face. “I don’t want to fight any more. Can’t we talk? Can’t we be adults?”

“Oh, honey.” He kissed her softly. “I forget I’m not alone. I told Taylor I wouldn’t do that.” He scooted closer and leaned over her. “Lois, I promise from now on to try harder to hold up my end of this relationship.”

She lifted her hand to place it on his face. “Why do you want all of this?”

Clark drew back and reached for the picture that sat on his nightstand. It was a picture of all of them taken at the hospital right after Chloe was born. “This… this is why I want this. Look at them, Lois. Look at the people in the picture. They are so happy. The man is in heaven.”

She glanced at the photo. “I just want our family together, without having to worry about someone tearing us apart.”

“Soon, baby.” He kissed her nose. “Soon we’ll be together. We’ll take a vacation, just the four of us.”

“Five,” she reminded him. “We can’t leave Jon out.”

He smiled at her. “No, we can’t.”

“Promise?” She echoed the boys’ favorite question.

“I promise.” Clark sealed his declaration with a kiss.

A while later they ventured from the bed and made it to work, although both were thinking of the tests to come.

A small boy’s mind was on those same tests as well as he left for school.

***

“Ms. Lane, Taylor’s teacher is on line two,” came Debbie’s voice over the intercom on Lois’ phone later that day.

“Mrs. Murphy? Is something wrong?” she asked the time she picked up.

“I’m afraid so, Ms. Lane. Taylor is missing.”

“What?!” Lois shot to her feet. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“We went out for recess, but Taylor didn’t come back in.”

“Weren’t you watching? How could this happen?”

“Ms. Lane, there was three of us covering the grounds. How he got out, I don’t know.”

Now wasn’t the time to rebuke his teacher. She had to find her son. “Look, I’m on my way.”

“Okay.”

Lois slammed the phone down and raced out of the office. “Daddy!”

“What?” He was standing in the lobby when she made it there. He had come in today to do some paperwork.

“Taylor’s missing from his school.”

“What?!”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Sam ran after Lois as they left the building.

***

Clark was already waiting on Lois and Sam when they made it to the school. She had called him on the way and didn’t even have to finish her sentence before he was airborne.

“Clark!” She spotted him in the small crowd outside the school. He turned and caught her as she launched herself into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He kissed her neck, then drew back. “They wouldn’t let me in, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

Lois grabbed his hand and pushed through the bodies until an officer stopped her. “I’m Lois Lane. My son’s the one missing.”

“You can go through, but they have to stay.” He motioned to Clark and Sam.

“That’s his grandfather,” she said with a wave at Sam, then glanced at Clark. In a split second she made a decision she wouldn’t be able to go back on. “And this is his father.”

Clark’s eyes widened, but he nodded his agreement at the officer. The young man stepped aside and let them pass. Twenty minutes later, they were pacing the floor with no more information than they had had earlier.

Detective David Aston told them to go home and wait to see if he showed up there. Lois was almost hysterical by the time she got to Clark’s brownstone. Sam and Martha had agreed to go to her house in case he showed up there. Taylor knew his address and how to get home from various points around the city, including school. And recently he had learned how to get to Clark’s place. But without much to go on, they didn’t know whether he had been kidnapped or had just run off. And if he had run off, why?

***

Taylor pushed the button to the intercom outside the apartment building that Dan Scardino lived in. He had thought of little else but what could happen if Dan found out he was Chloe’s father. He had lost his brother. He had to keep from losing his sister as well.

“Yeah?”

“Dan?”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Taylor Lane. I’d like to talk to you.”

The buzzer on the door sounded, and the boy made his way up to the apartment he had been to a few times. Dan opened the door almost immediately.

“Hey. Does your mother know you’re here?”

“No. And I don’t want her to know until we talk.”

Dan’s brows rose at the little man beneath him as he held the door open for the boy to enter. Taylor stopped a couple steps inside the door. “What can I do for you?”

“You can leave my sister alone.”

Dan looked at the boy in surprise. “And just what business is it of yours?”

“It’s my business because I’m her brother. It’s my job to protect her. I want you to leave her alone.”

“Look, kid, all I want is to prove the baby’s Clark’s.”

“And what if she’s not? You’ll take her from us. You said you would. I heard Mom say you would. You told her you’d take her just to get back at Mom.”

“I don’t want her, Taylor. I told your mom that because I was mad.” Dan sighed and kneeled in front of the boy. “I don’t want to be anyone’s father. My career’s too demanding. I wouldn’t get to see Chloe even if she were mine. Clark would be doing me a favor by filling my shoes.”

Taylor stared at Dan a moment, then pulled his backpack from his back. He took out a pencil and paper. “Write that down.”

“What?”

“Write down what you said. You write that you want Clark to be Chloe’s daddy.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because my mommy thinks it would be wrong if she didn’t give you a chance to be a father. You write down that you don’t want to be so Clark can. He wants to.” The boy shook the paper at Dan. “You owe Chloe that much,” he whispered.

Dan glanced at the paper then back up at the fiery little eyes before him. “Maybe I was wrong about you.” He stood and reached for Taylor’s hand. “Why don’t I take you home and tell them in person?”

“You mean it?”

“I mean it.”

Taylor took his hand and followed Dan out the door and into the elevator. He looked up at Dan. “Maybe I was wrong about you, too.”

Dan smiled and squeezed the smaller hand in his.

***

“Where the hell is he?!” Lois flopped down onto the sofa in frustration. Taylor had been missing for nearly two hours.

Clark sat down beside her to rub her back. He couldn’t offer very much comfort because he felt as helpless as she did. He had wanted to look for him from the air, but Lois wouldn’t let him. She had insisted she needed him with her.

“I wish Jon were here,” Lois said softly. “He’d let me hold him, so I’d feel better.”

Clark’s eyes misted over when he heard her. He pulled Lois into his body just before the door opened. They looked up to see Taylor and Dan.

“Taylor!” Lois ran to take her son into her arms. She clutched him to her body as more tears fell.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Lois drew back to look at him. “Why would you scare me like that?”

“I think maybe I can explain.” Everyone’s attention turned to the other man in the room. “He came to see me.”

“What?”

“He wanted to ask me to leave Chloe alone.”

Lois rose and shifted Taylor against her body. Clark had come to stand next to them.

Dan glanced down at Taylor. “I, ah, I underestimated him. He’s already more of a man than I’ll ever be.” His eyes lifted to Lois. “Chloe’s mine isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

Dan smiled wistfully and glanced over at Clark. “I guess I knew it. I’ve just always been so jealous of Kent. He could make your eyes dance the way I never could. I know what I said about not believing in love. It’s just…” He sighed and let the sentence trail off without finishing it. “I guess you and Kent here do.” He smiled over at Clark. “You’re one lucky son of a…”

Clark’s hand squeezed Taylor’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Dan told him when he saw the gesture. “Lois, Taylor’s right. I wouldn’t be a very good father. Truth is, I don’t want to be anyone’s father. If Kent is offering, take him up on it. I’ll even make it easier for you. I’ll sign my rights away, if I need to.”

“What?”

Dan smiled and reached out to touch Taylor’s face. “This little guy had to show me how to be a man. Chloe is better off without me.” He faced Clark and his smile faded. “All I ask is that you don’t change your mind when she starts high school. I know what a tough time my folks had with me.”

“Dan, to me Chloe is mine.”

“I know.” Dan took a deep breath. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, Lois.”

Lois blinked several times, trying to comprehend what was happening. “I, ah, actually I think it’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Yeah.” Dan looked around the room. “Would it… would it be okay if I saw her? I’d like to say good-bye.”

Lois glanced up at Clark. He nodded and left the room. Dan looked back up when Clark re-entered with Chloe. Clark kissed her head before extending her to Dan.

“Wow. Look at you.” Dan smoothed his hand over her head as she stared at him. “One day you’ll know I did the best thing I could do. Clark will be the daddy I never could.” He looked at the baby for several moments before handing her back over to Clark. “Take care of her,” he said quietly.

“With my life,” Clark assured him.

Dan nodded and smiled. “You were born to be these kids’ daddy. Why else would you love them the way you do?” Dan didn’t wait for Clark to answer. He turned and held out his hand to Taylor. “Thank you.”

The boy took the man’s hand. “Thank you. Now I know what Mom saw in you.”

Dan kneeled down so he was looking in the child’s eyes. “And I know what Clark sees in you.” The man’s large hand came up to ruffle the boy’s hair before he stood. “I won’t bother you again, Lois, any of you.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door. “Hey,” he started at Clark. “Hurry up and marry this woman. They don’t make ‘em like her any more either.” Dan smiled and was gone.

Everyone in the room stood in silence after the door closed. Finally Clark smiled down at Chloe.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, kid.”

Lois turned Taylor around to face her. “As much as I am pleased with things right now, I’m also very angry with you.”

“I know. And I promise I won’t do anything like this again. But, Mom, I had to try to stop him. If he’d taken Chloe…” Taylor’s eyes were full of tears. “I couldn’t lose her, too.”

Lois’ anger melted instantly. She pulled Taylor into her arms. “Nobody’s taking her anywhere…” She pushed back to see his face. “Except maybe down to the Department of Vital Records. We need to fill out what’s needed for Clark to become Chloe’s legal father. It may take a little longer to get her birth certificate, but the end result will be the same.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go pack her diaper bag.”

Clark chuckled as the boy rushed past him. “Think he’s happy?”

Lois rose and took the baby. “You should know.”

“I do… Thank you very much. Happy doesn’t begin to describe what I feel… what we feel. It’s incredible.” He smiled brightly as Lois changed the baby’s diaper.

“Clark, there’s no going back once we do this. Please tell me now if this is what you want.”

He went to ease down beside her. When she was done with the baby, he looked over at her. “Lois, is this what you want? I meant what I told Dan. To me Chloe’s already mine. A piece paper won’t make a difference in how I feel. Yes, I will like the fact that she’ll be mine legally. I also know it’ll… solidify things between us. We’ll be connected from now on. If this is not what you want, then we won’t do it.”

Taylor had heard the exchange. He stood, with his breath held, and waited for his mother’s answer.

Lois looked down at Chloe before lifting her eyes to Clark. “I made a mistake with you once. I won’t do it again.” She handed the baby to Clark. “Dan’s right. We do have beautiful babies.”

Clark smiled as he gazed down at Chloe. “And maybe one day we’ll see if we make beautiful babies,” he mumbled.

“I heard that,” Lois told him as she stood.

“I thought I was the only one with super hearing.”

Taylor ran to open the door before Lois could. “Let’s go.”

Lois smiled and waited patiently for Clark and Chloe to join them. Twenty minutes later, Clark was signing the paperwork to make his daughter legally his.

***

“Hey, you two,” Lois told her two favorite guys. They were stretched out on the sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, watching the football game on television.

“Hey,” they answered in unison without looking at her.

She and Martha had just finished cleaning up Sunday dinner. They had celebrated Clark becoming Chloe’s daddy. Lois thought it funny how a simple piece of paper could offer so much satisfaction. He hadn’t blinked an eye when the clerk at Vital Records handed him the paperwork. He was already holding the pen. And it was Clark who immediately forked out the extra money to have Chloe’s birth certificate printed right then. He had even made Lois a copy— a copy— because he wouldn’t let the original out of his possession. He had once again told her that the paper was irrelevant— he loved Chloe the same— but she could tell he liked reading her name. Chloe Robin Kent. After the pain she had caused this man, she was thrilled to see his eyes dance with happiness.

Lois snuggled up to Clark, who immediately put an arm around her. Their game was interrupted when the phone rang.

“I got it,” Taylor said as he jumped over the back of the couch. “Hello?”

“Daddy?” came the small voice on the other end of the line.

“Jon!”

Lois and Clark sat straight up and turned to face the boy.

“Taywer, tell my daddy I wanna come home.”

“Okay.” He held the phone out to Clark. “He wants to come home.”

Clark took the receiver. “Jon?”

“Daddy.” The boy was crying now.

“Son, what’s wrong?”

“I wanna come home,” he said through his tears.

“Where are you? I’ll come get you right away.”

Anything Jon was going to say was interrupted when a man’s voice came on the line. “Who the hell is this?”

“This is Jon’s father. Who the hell is this?”

Clark could hear the man yell at Jon in the background. “What did you tell him?!”

“Look, my son wants to come home. Just tell me where you’re at.”

“Kent, this is none of your business.”

“The hell it’s not. Jon’s my son.”

There was a long silence before the man spoke again. “We’re in Metropolis. Come get the kid.”

Clark gave Taylor the phone and turned to put his shoes on.

“Clark?” Lois questioned.

“Something’s wrong. Jon was crying and that bastard was yelling at him.”

“Oh, Jon,” she gasped.

“Jon’s coming home. It won’t be long before he’ll be back to his old self again,” Taylor told them.

Lois smiled hopefully. Truth was she didn’t know if Jon was going to be okay. He had only talked to her twice since he had been gone. And then it was only a few words. And this… whatever this was.

Clark stood up after he had slipped his shoes on. “I won’t be long… I hope.” He kissed Lois softly.

“Can I go?” Taylor asked.

“Maybe you should stay,” Lois told him.

“No, no. He can go.” Taylor ran ahead of Clark to the door. “We’ll hurry, honey.” Clark shoved Taylor’s coat into his hands as he stepped through the door.

“Yeah, honey. We’ll hurry,” Taylor echoed as he followed.

Clark chuckled softly as they hurried down the stairs. Lois slumped back against the sofa. It wouldn’t be long before they would know just how Jon had faired the past few months.

***

Clark and Taylor went to the apartment Lana had rented uptown in the neighborhood known as the ‘The Zone’. As soon as they stepped off the elevator, he could hear Jon’s cries without his super hearing. He hurried to the door and pounded loudly.

“Lana!” What sounded like flesh meeting flesh brought Clark through the door with a shove. Eric was standing over Lana where she lay on the floor. Her face was covered with blood. She had obviously received more than her fair share of Eric’s outbursts.

Eric twirled around to glare at Clark. “Get the hell out of here, Kent. This doesn’t concern you.”

Clark’s gaze went from Eric to Lana, then fell on a crying Jon, who was standing in the hall watching everything that was going on. Clark rushed over and took the boy up into his arms.

“Shhh… Daddy’s here.”

Lana had managed to get herself up off the floor, wiping her blood and tear stained face.

“What’s going on, Lana?” Clark asked.

“None of your business,” Eric shot at him.

“It is my business when it involves my son.”

“This is between me and Lana.”

“But my son was watching you hit his mother!”

Lana stepped between the men, who had started a showdown. “It’s really okay, Clark.”

“No it’s not. Look at you. Lana, he hit you.”

“No, no. He just…”

“Just what? Got your attention loudly?”

“Clark, please. Just let it go.”

“Lana, Jon saw him hit you.” Lana turned her head away from him. Eric had obviously let her know that if she said too much here, she would get worse later. “I don’t know what’s going on. I guess it shouldn’t matter as long as you leave Jon out of it. But that’s not the case.”

“Just take the kid and get out!” Eric boomed as he went to hold the door open for Clark.

With Jon tucked against him, Clark walked slowly to the door. He stopped and looked back at Lana. “You know this is very wrong. He has no right to hit you. And neither of you have the right to do this in front of Jon. It won’t happen again.” Clark put a hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “Come on, son,” he said as they left the couple standing in silence.

“Will he be okay?” Taylor asked Clark as they exited the elevator on the bottom floor.

“I hope so, Taylor.”

Once they made it to the car, Clark opened the back door to put Jon in his booster seat. Taylor jumped in ahead of him. “I’ll hold him.”

Clark carefully sat the boy in the bigger boy’s lap. Taylor pulled him close to his body.

“It’s okay, Jon. Nobody’s gonna hurt you now. I won’t let them.”

“He hit my mommy,” Jon whispered.

“I know.” Taylor pushed Jon’s hair out of his eyes. “Daddy’ll take care of it. He’s Superman.”

Jon’s eyes widened as he looked at Taylor. “He told you?”

“No. I just knew. And he won’t let that man hurt your mommy again.”

Jon closed his eyes tightly. “I want Wois.”

“Okay.” Taylor looked back up at Clark. The man nodded and ran around to get in the Jeep, so he could take his boys home.

***

Lois shot to her feet when the door to the brownstone opened. Clark was holding Jon. He sat up to see the anxious woman before him. He wiggled to the floor and ran to her. She caught him immediately.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Lois nodded and turned to carry Jon upstairs for a bath. He clung to her the rest of the evening, not allowing her to get more than a few feet from him. She managed to get him to eat a little something, but the only thing he would say was, ‘Don’t wet me go’. Lois constantly reassured him she wouldn’t do that. She sang to him while they sat in the rocking chair in his room. When the boy was finally settled and asleep, she tucked him next to Taylor.

The older boy wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. “I’m glad he’s home, Mommy.”

“Me, too, Taylor. Me, too.” She kissed the boys’ heads, eased from the room, and went to find Clark. He was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.

“Did he go to sleep?”

“Finally.” Lois poured herself some coffee and joined Clark at the table. “He was pretty upset. What happened, Clark?”

“When I got off the elevator this afternoon on the floor where Lana lives, I heard Jon screaming. I ran to the door and shoved it open when I heard the sound of skin making contact with skin. Lana was on the floor. Apparently Eric had hit her… several times. Her lip was bleeding, and one of her eyes was swollen.”

“Oh, God. Jon saw that?”

“Yeah. He was standing in the hall.”

“How could she let that happen? Not just letting Jon see it, but Eric hitting her period.”

“I know. And him… How can a man strike a woman?”

Lois reached out and put her hand on Clark’s arm. “Clark, do you think he hits Jon?”

“I don’t know. I would hope Jon will tell me… or you, but I just don’t know. Lana acted like this was nothing new. What if he does, Lois? What do I do? If I leave him there, I wouldn’t be any better than Eric is.”

“I know. I hate to say it, but you have to talk to Lana. If Jon means anything to her at all, she’ll be honest about this.”

“And if she won’t talk to me?”

“Then you may have to call Constance.”

“But if I can’t prove anything it won’t do any good.”

Lois drew a breath and pushed up from the table. “Then you’ll have to do what you do best.”

“Investigate?”

“Yes. We’ll just have to prove Eric LaLonde is a danger to Jon if he stays in the home with him.”

Clark drew a face, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t like it.”

Lois walked over and lifted his face to hers. “It’s better than leaving Jon to be possibly scarred for life.”

Clark sighed and wrapped his arms around Lois’ waist. “I’m glad I have you.”

“Always.” She kissed the top of his head and hugged him close. They both knew they could be in for one heck of a ride, but it was one they would make together.

***

Clark decided not to question Jon about what happened when he was at Lana’s. She was the adult and the one that should answer any inquiries about the well-being of their son. He waited until Eric left the apartment the next morning before he went to talk to Lana.

Lana opened the door, very surprised to see Clark. “Ah, is something wrong? Is Jon okay?”

Clark noticed her left eye was black and nearly swollen shut. Her bottom lip displayed a nasty gash, and she was paler than Clark could ever remember seeing her.

“You tell me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You tell me. Is Jon okay? Has he seen this before? Has he received any of it?”

Lana heaved a breath and held the door open wider for Clark to come in. She knew they would end up fussing and didn’t want the whole building to hear it. Clark entered and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Lana to answer.

“Clark, I wouldn’t let Eric hit Jon.”

“I don’t know that, Lana. You let him hit you while Jon watched. That’s just as bad.”

Lana turned from Clark. She couldn’t look him in the eyes because the truth was she didn’t know if Eric had hit Jon. Her photo shoots kept her working to all hours, and often Jon was sent to the hotel with Eric. Jon never acted as if he was being mistreated, but she couldn’t say for sure. Jon was withdrawn and quiet. If fact, Lana had started to worry about him.

“Lana, why do you let him treat you like this?”

“It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Really? It seems like he busted your lip and blackened your eye. Damn, Lana, you don’t deserve that. And what about your modeling? You can’t work with your face in this kind of shape?”

“What do you care?”

“I care because you’re Jon’s mother. I’ll always care.” He waved his hand at her face. “This can stop you from any modeling. How will you take care of Jon if you can’t work?”

“Eric takes care of us.”

“I know. I saw for myself last night.”

“He usually doesn’t hit me.”

“Usually? Just what does he do?”

“Look, this is the first time he’s hit me.” And it was. Eric was known for his angry outbursts, but he usually refrained from striking Lana. Bruises were costly in her line of work. “We’ve fought, but he usually just yells a lot. Honestly, he’s really good to me.”

Clark stared at her. She was covering for the snake, and it was making him angry. “And Jon? Does he yell at Jon?” When Lana walked away from Clark, he saw red. “Dammit, Lana, you have a lot of nerve. When I wanted to see my son, you accused me of being an unfit father. Yet, you allow some jerk to treat him just any way he wants to.”

Lana whirled back around to look at Clark. “Don’t you come in here and start with me. You live with your lover.”

“So do you! But there’s a huge difference between Eric and Lois. Lois loves Jon like he was hers. She doesn’t yell at him or threaten to hit him. And she certainly doesn’t have to worry about me hitting her in front of him. And not that it’s any of your business, but we don’t live together. Although the thought has more appeal every day.”

“And I suppose you’re perfect. You and Miss Lane never fuss or argue?”

“Of course we have disagreements, but Lois and I have never raised our voices in front of Jon or any of the children. And we won’t.”

“Clark, I won’t get into this with you. My life is my own. If I want to live with Eric, I will.”

“But you won’t continue to expose my son to your little wars.”

Lana stared him down. Who was he to tell her what to do with her child? He may be Jon’s father, but the boy was still hers. “Don’t threaten me.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a fact.”

“And just what does that mean?”

“It means you and Eric will not argue in front of Jon any more. And he’ll damn sure never see you get hit again.”

“What are you going to do? Take him away from me?” Clark glared at her, his eyes very intense. “You would? You would take your son away from his own mother?”

Clark calmed some then. How was it that Lana could always cool his anger like that? “Lana, I don’t want to take Jon away from you. I just don’t want him to see what he saw last night again. He’s too young to witness your fights.”

“And you’re in no position to tell me how to live my life.”

“I’m not trying to. My only concern here is Jon. You can’t possibly want Eric to whip your butt in front of your son.”

“He didn’t ‘whip my butt’. He was angry.”

“No man should ever get that angry.”

Lana had had enough. What she did and with whom she did it was her business. “This discussion is over. I take care of Jon, and that’s all you need to know!” She yanked the door open for Clark.

Clark was livid. She had denied being hit before, but something in the way she talked told him that he didn’t know half of what was going on in this house. He stormed past her, not bothering to say another word. He didn’t understand Lana. He meant it when he told her she wouldn’t have another chance for their son to witness more arguments. He would do whatever it took to stop that from happening.

***

Before Clark could contact Constance to see if he could get a protective order to keep Jon, Superman was needed. He hated to go, but people would die if he didn’t. Besides, an article for the Planet couldn’t hurt either. He had missed a lot of time at work lately and needed to smooth things over with Perry. Jon was safe with Lois right now so he figured he had a little time.

Lois hadn’t known she could feel so happy yet so sad at the same time. She was happy Jon was home but felt bad for the things he had suffered through.

She was about to go check on him when Jon came into the kitchen shortly after Clark left.

“Hi,” Lois told him when she saw him standing in the doorway.

“Did you want me to go that day?” The small boy’s words were spoken clear enough for anyone to understand.

“Oh, Jon, no.” Lois was almost in tears. “The last thing I wanted was to make you go. But… she had papers. The police had to do what those papers said.”

“Do you wove me?”

“Oh honey. I love you so much.” Lois clutched her chest.

“You wove me as much as you wove Taywer?”

Lois thought about that a moment. “If someone asked me how many children I have, I’d say three: Taylor, Chloe… and Jon.” She moved closer. “I have two wonderful sons.” Her hand came up to caress his face. “As far as I’m concerned, you are my son.”

Jon held out his hands for Lois to take him and she didn’t disappoint. She pulled him up into her arms and held him as if breaking the connection would result in catastrophe.

“I wanna stay wiv you,” Jon whispered.

Lois pulled back to look at him. “What?”

“I wanna stay wiv you.”

“Honey, don’t you want to stay here with your dad?”

He hugged her again. “I wanna to stay wiv you. Please.” He leaned back to look at her. “You said you gonna make me a room at your house.”

“And we will… But, honey, your daddy has missed you.”

Jon looked at her. “You let me stay if Daddy comes, too?”

Lois was about to say something else, but a thought popped into her head. “How would you like to ask Daddy if he wants to come live with me?” Why not? They spent most nights together anyway. They could save a ton of money in just one house. And no one would have to leave at night.

“Really? We wive wiv you and Taywer and Choe?”

“I think I’d love for my boys to come live with me.”

“But Nana? We can’t weave Nana.”

“No we can’t. We can remodel the apartment above the garage. Think she’ll like it?”

“Can we make her room to paint? She wikes to paint.”

“We can.” Lois took a seat and settled Jon on her lap. “But Jon, I need to ask you something.” He waited for her to speak. “When you were at your mom’s, did Eric hit you?”

“No. He yelled a lot. I wocked my door.”

“Has he hit Mom before?”

“No. You mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I called.”

“No, honey. I’m very glad you called.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

Jon looked up at Lois with wide eyes. “Wois, Eric hurt Mommy.”

“I know, honey. I know you don’t want him to hurt your mom. What he did was wrong. Men and women should never hit each other. Never.”

“That why you wove my daddy?”

“That and more.” Lois ran a hand through Jon’s hair. “Your daddy is the most wonderful man alive. He’s the best daddy, and he’s patient and kind.”

“You know he’s super?”

“Yes, Jon. And I think that’s incredible.”

Jon looked down at his lap. “Daddy’s mad at me.”

“Why? Because you told him you hate him?”

Jon nodded sadly. He looked back up at Lois with tears in his eyes. “I don’t hate my daddy.”

“Oh honey, he knows.”

“Really?”

“Mmm huh. He knows you were hurting and scared. He knows you didn’t mean it.”

Before anyone could speak, Taylor stepped up and placed his hands on Jon’s shoulders. “I told him that, too,” he told the younger boy softly. He had been listening from the doorway. Jon turned to Taylor with wide eyes. “You know what he did?” Jon shook his head. “He took the day off work, and we spent it together.”

Jon turned back to Lois. “He never do that wiv me.”

“Oh, Jon.” Lois reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear. “I think Daddy was so hurt at the time he didn’t know what to do. He knows now. He loves you with all his heart. I’m sure if you asked him, he’d take the day off or the week. He just wants to love you and be with you.”

Jon’s little lip quivered. “I’m not a big boy anymore.”

“Your dad will always be proud of you,” Taylor told him.

“Nuh uh. I suck my thumb and potty in my pants.”

“But you’re home now, and I’ll help remind you not to suck your thumb and to go potty.”

Jon’s eyes brightened a bit as he looked at Taylor. “You still my brudder?”

“Of course. And brothers look out for each other.”

Jon looked back at Lois. “I go put on big boy pants.”

“Okay. I’ll help.”

“No way, Mom,” Taylor told her. “We men don’t need help.” He smiled and pulled Jon to the floor. He threw an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulder, and they left the room.

Lois could hear their happy chatter. Her heart was full. She thought back to something Dan had told Clark. He said Clark was born to love her kids. Now she knew she had been born to love Jon. And she would… with every fiber in her being.

Now if she could convince Clark that moving in with her was a good idea…

***

Jon was disappointed that Taylor had to go to school but was happy to get to spend time with Lois by himself. Lois had even asked Martha to keep Chloe so she and the small boy could spend the day alone.

They stopped off at an office supply store and outfitted Jon with his very own briefcase full of paper and pens. Another stop was made to buy him some new clothes and get a haircut. Lois couldn’t stand another minute looking at him with his hair falling into his eyes. They made it to her office, and Jon quickly set up his own ‘work area’.

Lunch was spent in the park. Jon ate more than he had eaten since he had been home. After an ice cream cone, they decided they had done enough work for one day. They picked up Taylor from school and headed for the local builder’s depot. By the time they made it home, they had plans for a new bedroom.

Taylor and Jon settled at the coffee table with a pile of catalogues to pick out the new furniture for their room while Lois started dinner. Having Taylor had forced Lois to learn to cook. With her family growing so quickly, she was glad now she had taken the time to do it.

The doorbell rang just as Lois took the pasta up to drain. She wiped her hands and headed to answer the call. Neither boy moved from their positions looking at the books. Lois couldn’t force the smile from her face— that is until she opened the door. Lana was on the other side.

“I’m not here to cause trouble. I would like to talk to Clark. I called his place but didn’t get an answer.”

“He’s still at work.”

“Oh.”

Lois pushed the slight anger she felt away. “Would you like to wait on him? I can page him.”

“That would be nice.”

Lois opened the door and stood aside as Lana came in.

“You have a beautiful home,” she told Lois as she looked around.

“Thank you. I worked hard to get it. The boys are in the den. Would you like to see Jon?”

“Ah, well, it’ll probably upset him.”

“I think maybe he needs to see that you’re okay.”

Lana nodded and followed Lois down the hall to the den. The boys looked up when the women came in. Jon was immediately pale.

Lois noticed his reaction, but thought it was Lana’s place to reassure him she wasn’t here to upset him. And the woman surprised Lois.

“Jon, please don’t get upset. I didn’t come to get you.”

“You not gonna take me?”

“No. I just need to talk to your dad.”

“He’s not here.”

“I know. Lois said I could wait on him. Is that all right with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Jon,” Lois said in a stern voice.

“Sorry. Yes ma’am.”

Lana’s brows rose at the little exchange, jealousy shooting through her. She quickly doused those feelings. She was here to make her son’s life better. For once she was thinking of someone other than herself.

Lois motioned to the kitchen. “I need to check on dinner.”

Lana nodded as Lois left her standing there.

Taylor looked up at Jon, exchanging a silent request. The smaller boy’s eyes drifted to his mother. “Wanna see?”

“Ah, sure.” She made her way over to Jon’s side and eased down on the sofa when he scooted over.

“Wois is re… re…”

“Remodeling our room,” Taylor helped him out.

“Yeah,” Jon said with a smile. “We get new stuff.”

“Really?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Mom is having my room and the room next to it remodeled to make one big room for both of us,” Taylor told Lana.

“Yep,” Jon agreed. He pushed the computer images across so Lana could see them. “See. We gonna have a cubhouse and eberyting.”

“We’re, Jon. We’re, not we,” Taylor corrected helpfully. Jon smiled at the older boy that had become his mentor. Taylor smiled back and turned to Lana. “And there’s gonna be a secret compartment in the wall where we can hide things.”

Jon eased closer to her. “And a big ole chair for bedtime stories. Lois and Daddy read to us eberynight.”

“They do?”

“Uh huh. And we get a hamit…”

“Hammock,” Taylor helped him.

“Uh huh. And, and a bed for Choe,” Jon finished happily.

“Yeah. And Grandpa’s gonna help us build a remote control train all the way around the ceiling.”

“What about Superman? You guys don’t like him?”

Both boys stared at Lana like she had two heads. “Why would we want him when we have Clark?” Taylor asked her seriously.

Lana couldn’t help but smile. “I guess he is pretty super.”

“He’s the best.” Taylor and Jon looked at each other for a moment then burst into laughter. They knew they had the real thing. They didn’t have to have things with Superman on them in their room. He would be there.

Lana ran her fingers through Jon’s hair. “I see you’ve had a haircut.”

“Wois took me. Her says I wook just wike my daddy now.”

“I think she’s right,” Lana told him with a smile.

The backdoor opened and a very surprised Clark Kent stepped in. Before he could say anything, Jon jumped up and ran past him.

“Hey, Daddy. Gotta’ go.”

Clark didn’t need to ask where. Jon slammed the door to the laundry room. The little guy had to use the facilities.

Clark looked over at Lois. “Did he just go potty?”

“Yep,” she answered with a smile as she continued her dinner preparations.

“Wow!” Clark dropped his keys on the counter and turned to face Lana. “Lana, is something wrong?”

“No,” She told him as she stood up. “I just need to talk to you.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Well, maybe we should do this alone.”

“Lana, Lois and the boys know what’s going on and they’re my family. What happens to Jon concerns them, too.”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought about what you said this morning. You’re right. Eric has no right hitting me.”

He sighed, relieved beyond belief. He had been worried about Lana. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.”

“Well, you always did care too much.” She ducked her head and studied her fingers. “It also made me think about Jon and what’s best for him.” She raised her head to look at him again. “It’s time I did the right thing. I want him to come live with you.”

“What?”

“I had an offer for a shoot in Spain. It will last much of the next year. I just think it would be best if… Jon stayed with you.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. He is your son.”

“Lana, Jon staying with me is not a problem. But you’re telling me that you’re… walking away.”

“I’m not walking away. I’ll call and write. I’ll visit the states some. And I will be coming back.” She walked a few feet away from Clark. “Truth is Jon hasn’t been very happy with me. He talks about Taylor and Chloe constantly. He stares out the window most of the day. He isn’t eating well, and he won’t go out and play.” She turned back to Clark. “Whether you believe it or not, I do love my son. And I can’t watch him hurt like this anymore.”

“Wow. Lana Lang is human.”

She laughed softly. “Gee, thanks.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want Jon happy and healthy. I think he’ll be that and so much more when he gets back to the life he knew before I came along and screwed it up.”

Clark stepped over to Lana and reached out to squeeze her arm. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Clark. I’m the one that kept you two apart.”

“You’re also bringing us back together.” He turned when he caught a glimpse of the boys. Jon had eased back into the room and was standing with Taylor at the end of the counter separating the den and the kitchen. Clark’s eyes fell on Jon’s. “Hi, son. How are you?” The boy shrugged.

Jon looked up at Lana. “You weaving?”

Lana frowned and crouched down in front of Jon. “Jon, honey, I think it’s best that you go back with your daddy while I go to Spain to work.”

Jon looked between the two adults. “You don’t want me?” he asked Lana.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. I do. It’s just that you’ve been so lonely with me. You talk about Taylor all the time and Chloe. And I know you miss your Grandma.”

“Yeah,” Jon sighed.

“And your dad,” Lana said. “You miss your dad. And he loves you so much.”

Jon looked up at Clark skeptically. He stood in silence for a few moments before his lip started to quiver. “You call me?” he asked Lana.

“I will.”

“And visit?”

“I will, very soon.”

He turned away and started down the hall towards the stairs. Lana rose from her position crouched on the floor.

“I guess maybe we have to give him his space,” Lana told Clark.

Clark was about to answer her when Jon appeared in the doorway again. He was clutching a small teddy bear in his hand.

“For you.” He held out the black and white bear to Lana.

“Thank you.” She took the offered gift but remained a couple of steps from him.

“Eric hit you more?”

“No. Eric moved out.”

Jon studied her for a long moment before he spoke again. “Don’t forget me.”

Lana kneeled and held open her arms for him. Jon glanced at them only briefly before he closed the distance and hugged his mom.

Lois turned away as her emotions threatened to get the best of her. She was so happy for Jon. She hadn’t forgotten Clark telling her that Lana wasn’t the type to give hugs.

Clark noticed her reaction and went to stand with his hands on her sides. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “You okay?”

She stopped and turned her head to him slightly. “I know what you saw in her now,” she told him. She gave Clark a quick kiss before she turned toward the den. “Lana, would you like to stay and eat dinner with Jon?” Clark’s brows rose into his hair, but Lois simply shrugged and waited for an answer.

Lana looked down at the two bright eyes watching her. “Well, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Stay wiv me?” Jon looked at Lana hopefully before he turned to Lois to help him out.

“Stay, Lana. Please. Jon, why don’t you take her upstairs and show her what we plan to do with your room?”

“‘Kay. ‘Mone Mom.” He pulled on her hand until she was standing.

“Don’t we want Taylor to come?”

Jon smiled up at Lana then waved at Taylor. The older boy launched into the famous Lane babble mode as the trio disappeared.

Clark looked back at Lois. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” She pulled a stack of plates out of the cabinet, then stopped and faced him. “But are you okay with this? I didn’t stop to think that it might make you uncomfortable. She is an ex after all. It has to be strange that the…”

Clark pressed his lips to Lois’, effectively stopping her babble. He was smiling when he pulled back to look at her. “I’m very okay with this as long as you’re comfortable.”

“I remember what you said about doing everything to be friends. And I could tell it really bothered you that Eric was hitting her. And then there’s Jon.” Lois looked down the hall. “She is sending him home. And he loves her. So I’m stepping up to be as adult as she and Dan have been.”

Clark lifted his hand to cup her face. “I love you, Lois.”

“I love you.” She thrust the stack of plates into his hands. “Now set the table.”

“Yes ma’am.” He turned and made his way into the dining room. “Hey, where’s my daughter?” he called back.

“With Nana and Grandpa. They’re bringing her over after they go to dinner with some friends of theirs.” Lois joined him with the silverware.

“Good. I’m feeling a little clingy. I want all my kids home.”

“Clingy, huh?” Lois stepped into his chest. “I have a cure for that,” she purred.

“I bet you do.” He was about to lean in for a kiss when she rubbed a towel in his face. “Uhhh… you’re killing me.”

She giggled as she left him beside the table. “Just wait till later,” she whispered, knowing he would hear her. Clark smiled and went upstairs to change his clothes.

***

Although Clark had told Lois he was okay with Lana staying for dinner, he was sure it would be a little odd with her there. He was completely surprised that he was actually having a good time. The two women laughed and talked happily about several subjects. He was surprised to learn they had a great many things in common. He had never seen Lana quite this way before, and it was a welcome change.

Lana fielded dozens of questions from both boys. She told them about her modeling career and some of the places she had been. And she appeared to be comfortable as well.

Jon looked up at Lana about half way through dinner. She was talking to Lois so she had her head turned from him slightly. When he spoke, everyone became quiet.

“Mom, I wove you.”

Lana turned to look at Jon. “Oh, Jon. I love you.”

“I wove Wois, too.”

“I know.” She reached out to take one of his hands. “I think it’s great that you have someone like her to take care of you.”

“You not sad for me to wove her?”

“Not at all. I was at first but not now. I see how happy you are here.”

“I am. Wois says I can stay. But we gotta get Daddy to stay, too.”

Clark looked over at Lois who simply smiled with a shrug.

“Jon, maybe we should hold that discussion until Daddy’s holding Chloe. He can’t say no when he looks at her.”

Clark’s mouth fell open. He stared at Lois, but Taylor’s laughter broke his resolve to look upset. Soon everyone was laughing.

“She’s got you there, Clark,” Taylor said between gasps of air.

“Hey, what can I say? It isn’t easy saying no to those big brown eyes.” Laughter filled the room again.

Soon enough dinner was over, and Lana had been introduced to Chloe after Martha and Sam brought her home. The young woman had a private conversation with Martha that ended with a hug. It wasn’t long before Lana announced it was time for her to go.

“I’ll miss you,” Jon told his mother as he received his second hug of the night.

Lana leaned back to look at him. “I’ll miss you.”

“Call me.”

“I will. And we can write. Taylor said he’ll help you.”

“‘Kay.” Jon lifted his hand to touch the bruise on her face. “I’m gwad you’re okay.”

“Thank you. Jon, you do understand about me going?”

“Yes. I wove you.”

“I love you.” She smiled and rose to her feet. She faced Lois when a soft hand touched her arm.

“Lana, you’re welcome here any time.”

“Just take care of him.”

“Always.” Lois smiled softly and left Lana at the door with Jon and Clark.

Lana glanced over at Taylor. “See ya’, Taylor.”

“See ya’. I’ll take care of him.”

“I know you will.”

She rubbed Jon’s head one last time. “Take care of that little sister.”

“I will.”

“Okay.” She watched as Jon made his way back to the den.

“Thank you,” Clark told her.

“Just take care of our boy.”

“You know I will.” She opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop. Clark followed.

“Call soon. Leave a number where he can get in touch with you,” Clark told her.

“I will.” She looked back at the door. “Is Chloe really your daughter?”

“She is. Dan, Lois’ ex-husband, is her biological father. But I’ve been with her since she was born. I was even in the delivery room.”

“That’s what Jon told me. She’s really lucky to have you.”

“A compliment from Lana Lang. I’ll have to write this down.”

She laughed softly. “I guess I have been pretty awful to you.”

“That’s in the past.” He reached out to grasp her elbow. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. And you take care of those beautiful babies.” She leaned over and hugged Clark quickly.

Clark released her and watched her until her car was out of sight. He smiled when a slender pair of arms surrounded him from behind.

“I love you, Flyboy.”

“I love you.”

“How much?”

Clark shifted to face her. “What?”

“Do you love me enough to move in with me?”

“What?”

“Jon wants to stay with me. I want him to be with you. So…”

“You think we should live together?”

“Yes. Come on, Clark. We’ve hardly been apart the last couple of months. Even when we argued we still ended up at one or the other’s house. It makes sense. We could save a lot of money.”

“Like you need to worry about money.”

“Well… I guess you could say you’re being put up by your ‘little woman’.”

“Lo-is.”

“Don’t tell me that my money bothers you?”

“No, of course not. If you remember, I made a substantial amount of money when I worked at the agency myself.” He leaned to kiss her. “How much do you make?”

“I make a comfortable six figures.”

Clark whistled. “Wow! I had no idea. I’ll be lucky to see half that any time soon.”

“I would have made only eighteen thousand dollars if I’d stayed at the Planet that first year. I made nearly thirty my first year with my father. Last year was my best year so far, nearly three hundred thousand.”

“Damn!”

Lois laughed softly at Clark. “That’s nothing. Next year it’ll nearly double since I’ve taken over for Daddy.”

“Guess I picked a winner,” Clark said with dancing brows.

“Careful, Kent. I’ll make you stay home and be Mr. Mom.”

“I’d love every minute.”

Lois’ smile faded. “Would you? Is that something you’d do if I asked you to?”

“Lois, I’d do anything for you.” He lifted his hand and caressed her face. “One day you’ll know how I feel,” he said softly.

Lois stretched to kiss his cheek. “I’d love to know how you feel,” she told him as she pressed her body against his.

Clark groaned and turned her to go back in the house. “Be a good girl, would you?”

“Oh honey, do I upset you?” She giggled loudly when Clark shut the door and picked her up.

***

Clark stood in the doorway and watched as Lois turned the sheets down on the bed. He had been elected for bedtime duties, which he had handled with a smile. But looking at Lois was proving to be much more fascinating. And definitely more alluring.

He closed the door and made his way over to where Lois was bent over picking up a pair of shoes off the floor. He grinned devilishly when naughty thoughts started to cloud his vision. His hands grasped her hips and tugged her closer. “We’ve never done this position before.”

Lois stood and leaned back into his touch when he walked up behind her. “Mmmm,” was all she could manage as he began to nuzzle her neck.

“You look so good in this gown,” he whispered just before he dipped his tongue into her ear.

A shiver ran through Lois. Clark was sending chills down her spine; his hands began to move, causing them both to sigh.

“Tell me yes,” he said softly.

“Yes,” she breathed and gave herself over to him again, trusting him to protect her.

And he would. He would protect and worship her so that she would never doubt how much she attracted him.

“Mmm, we have got to do something about this protection thing. One day we’re gonna be in such a hurry, we’ll forget,” Lois told him just moments later. Neither had bothered with foreplay tonight.

“Incredible,” Clark breathed as Lois turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. Standing there, in the middle of the room, half naked, he was not a bit embarrassed or self-conscious. He was very, very sated… for the moment.

“Come on, Flyboy. I need a shower.”

“Yes ma’am.” Clark chuckled slightly when Lois ran from the room. He shook his head then sped after her.

Lois Lane probably wasn’t even aware of the trust she had given Clark when she allowed him to make love to her the way he wanted to. He had always been a bit reserved with Lana, mostly to protect his secret. Later he realized a lot his reservations were based on the fact that Lana was not really who he wanted to be with. He was with the right woman now, and his desire for her often scared him. Not Lois though. She seemed to thrive on his need for her. And the fact that he was super didn’t bother her a bit. No one had ever known about his powers until now. That had always held Clark back when he had sex. But with Lois, she not only let him act out his desires, she wanted him to. She seemed to like the hurried, passionate encounters they shared. Of course, the slow, tender lovemaking they had shared was just as wonderful and certainly more loving. It was just that now and then a person needed the release from an almost frantic pace. He was thankful he was Superman though. He was beginning to believe that making love to Lois Lane might actually kill him if this continued.

***

Lois sang softly as she put away the last of the clothes in the new dresser she and Clark had picked out for Chloe’s room. The nursery had been transformed into a little girl’s paradise. Clark just had to fix up her room along with the boys’. A fresh layer of bright yellow paint set the backdrop for the mural Clark had created, compliments of his alter ego. Cartoon characters played on the walls to watch over the child that would sleep in her crisp new sheets.

A few months ago Lois would have never thought something as domestic as creating a home would appeal to her. She and Clark had spent the last two weeks moving his things into her house, weeding through things they didn’t want or need, and buying new things to make her home their home. His things were strewn throughout the house, and she couldn’t help but sing. She was happy he was here.

Clark stopped at the open door to Chloe’s room to listen to Lois’ voice. She was absolutely mesmerizing. It felt so foreign to Clark to think about his life before Lois, Taylor, and Chloe. Knowing they would be with him from now on made him smile almost constantly.

Lois turned back to the door. She never faltered in her singing when she saw Clark there. She simply smiled, touched his arm, and continued back down the hall to finish her chores. Clark chuckled softly and went to find something to fill his time.

***

Life couldn’t get any better as far as Clark was concerned. He and Lois had been living together for nearly two months. Martha had been nestled into the small apartment above the garage, as equally happy with her new surroundings as everyone else. On top of that, he had a wonderful career and three beautiful children.

They’d celebrated Taylor’s eighth birthday, Jon’s fourth birthday, Chloe would soon be five months old, and Christmas was less than a week away. This year would be much different for Clark. Sure, he had had Jon last year. He had even spent a Christmas with Taylor all those years ago. But this holiday he had a family. They were all together and happy. He had begun to anticipate the big day as much as the boys. Of course, he looked forward to it for a much different reason. His mind was on the gift he’d like to give Lois.

Lois, too, felt that she couldn’t be happier. She could watch Clark endlessly. He was incredible. He would take her flying and spend hours with her just talking. Of course, making love was their favorite pastime. She had even made it in to see her doctor, so she could get a prescription for birth control, made possible by the fact that her daughter would no longer nurse, and formula had replaced Lois’ breast milk. That new freedom was, of course, reason to celebrate. And they did so, super style.

Lois’ thoughts were also drifting toward Christmas. They had shared a wonderful Thanksgiving as a family, so she couldn’t wait for their next holiday. She was having fun shopping for the children and for Clark and Martha. It was a shopping trip that gave her the idea for the ultimate Christmas present for Clark.

***

Jon held Lois’ hand as they walked through the crowded mall. Lois had brought him to pick out his father’s gift. So far he had rejected at least ten different things.

“Jon, honey, I’m running out of ideas,” Lois told him as they left another shop. She made her way over to a bench for a much needed break.

Jon sat down beside her in silence. Since they had entered the mall his mind had been on an idea for the perfect gift for his dad, but he wasn’t sure how to tell Lois what it was.

She pushed his hair back in an attempt to get his attention. “Sweetie, do you have any idea what you want to get him?”

Now how did he answer that one? His father was Superman, the defender of truth and justice. He couldn’t very well lie to Lois. He chose instead to shrug.

“Jon…” Lois had shown incredible patience all afternoon. However, what little she had left was growing thin.

Jon suddenly turned to face Lois, deciding it was now or never. “I-want-you-to-marry-my-daddy,” he said in a rush.

Lois stared down into his anxious eyes. “What?”

“You make him happy. You make me happy. And if you married him, we’d never have to leave.”

“Jon, you’ll never have to leave. I love you and your father.”

“I know.” He looked down at his hands a moment. “I just want us to be a real family.”

Lois lifted his chin until their eyes met. “We are a real family. Marriage won’t make us any more real.”

“But it would make Daddy so happy.”

“And how do you know that?”

“‘Cause when he took us shopping the other day, some lady told him he had beautiful children. He said, ‘thank you’. She said that him and his wife must be very proud. He didn’t tell her he wasn’t married, but you could tell it bothered him. And I saw him looking at a dress in a window. It was a wedding dress. Taylor said you’d look good in it. And he agreed.”

Lois stared down into the beautiful blue eyes before her. Jon had come out of his shell in the short time he and Clark had lived with her. No longer the quiet, shy little guy she had met nearly seven months ago, this boy was full of spirit and energy. You could now understand everything he said, thanks to speech therapy and the help he got at home. Taylor had taught him to read, he was learning to paint— thanks to his grandmother— Sam had taken him along on a trip to sign a new athlete, he had grown closer to his mother, and he had wrapped Lois around his little finger. She indulged him much more than she should. So when she sighed and pulled Jon closer to her, it wasn’t a surprise that she asked, “Do you think I’d look good in that dress?”

He turned to look up at her. “Yes.”

Lois rubbed her hand up and down his arm for several long minutes as she thought about what he had said. If she was honest, she had been fantasizing about marriage to Clark for a while now. He was perfect. He was honest, compassionate, loving, and he had proven himself to be trust-worthy. They had grown so close that they hardly ever argued any more. When they did, they made up almost immediately. Why not spend the rest of her life with him?

“Show me the dress.”

Jon jumped up and half dragged Lois through the mall to the shop where the dress was displayed. She gazed at it, trying to picture herself with it on.

“You’re right,” she told him after a moment. “I would look good in that.”

Jon smiled brightly. “You’d look great.”

“So, how should I propose? Or should he do that?”

Jon was almost trembling with excitement now. He and Taylor had talked of nothing else for the last several days. Somehow they were determined to get their parents married.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He took Lois’ hand, and they walked toward another shop as he explained to Lois just how she should propose to his father.

***

Christmas morning dawned clear and bright. A fresh layer of white powder covered the ground outside as a fire crackled softly in the fireplace of the den. Clark rolled over to snuggle with Lois for a few more minutes before their little tornadoes came blowing in, but she was gone.

“Lois?” He lifted his head to look around the room, surprise covering his face. Balloons covered the ceiling. Each one had a different endearment on it. Clark smiled and pulled a card from one of the strings hanging before him. He chuckled softly as he read the words.

‘Good morning, handsome. And Merry Christmas. Follow the trail to your gift.’

Clark pulled on his robe as he eased out of bed. How had she gotten those in without him hearing?

Well, he thought with a blush, after last night even Superman would have slept hard enough not to hear an earthquake.

Outside the door he saw another card on the floor. This one read, ‘Chloe’. He bent over to pick up the card before continuing to follow the trail. He found another half way to the stairs. ‘Jon’ was written in blue. At the top of the stairs he found a card with Taylor’s name on it. Three different cards lay on the stairs. The words on those were ‘love’, ‘Kent’, and ‘us’.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs to look at the balloons in his path. There was a single yellow rose tied to the strings and a card that read, ‘friendship’. The trail continued to the formal living room to the ‘untouchable’ tree that had been put up. A new ornament had been hung from one of the branches. It was a tiny snow dome. Inside was a picturesque house. It almost looked like theirs. Another card had ‘family’ written in bold letters. It also directed him to go to the dining room where the Christmas village was displayed.

Clark couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the Superman action figure erected to look as if it were flying. There was another card that read, ‘Superman’. He was shaking his head when he made it into the hall. Another group of balloons held a red rose. The card on this one had a perfect impression of a pair of lips, Lois’ lips, and it smelled of her perfume.

“Damn,” he mumbled as he continued to the den. He stopped when he saw Lois standing in front of the tree. She had a huge, red bow tied around her waist, and she was holding a card. Clark walked up to her in silence and read the card.

‘Together’ was written on the paper. He smiled and fingered Lois’ bow. “Looks like Santa came. I must have been a very good boy.”

“You have been,” she told him with a bright smile. “Very good.”

He waggled his brows and leaned to kiss her, but she held up her hand. For the first time he noticed she had one of her hands behind her back.

“There’s more?”

“Yes.”

She pulled out the final card. This one was inside an envelope, so Clark opened it and slowly removed the paper.

‘Clark, All my life I’ve known I was looking for something. I never knew what it was until you. You’ve made me so happy… Did you figure out what all the cards mean? Put them together and what do you get?… I hope we get about fifty or sixty beautiful years.’

He looked up at Lois with hopeful eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Clark couldn’t speak. He had planned on asking her to marry him today. His smile spread across his lips. “Do you know what I got you for Christmas?”

“You mean the small, gold box in my stocking?”

“Yeah.”

Lois smiled and launched herself at him. “Great minds think alike,” she told him.

“Kiss her already,” came a chorus of voices from behind them.

Clark turned with Lois in his arms. All the children, his mother, and Lois’ father were standing behind the counter in the kitchen.

“Were you guys spying on us?”

“Yes,” came the combined answer.

“Just kiss her,” Jon said.

“And somebody say yes!” Taylor added.

Clark laughed softly as his eyes fell back on Lois. “Yes,” he told her in a husky voice just before his lips met hers. A chorus of yells and whistles filled the air.

“This calls for champagne,” Sam announced.

“Sam, it’s seven in the morning,” Martha told him.

“In that case, this calls for chocolate milk!” Everyone dissolved into laughter as the family continued to celebrate. In the early hours of Christmas morning, a new life had finally begun. It had taken many years and much more pain than it should have, but at long last two souls destined to be together had finally found each other.

***

Clark’s heart soared. He and Lois were celebrating their engagement in New York City. They had watched the famous ball drop on Times Square from the top of a nearby building, thanks to Superman, before making their way back to the hotel room they would share for the night. Their parents had agreed to keep the children, so the couple could get away. Now, as they danced around the room on a pillow of air, Lois listened as Clark tried to tell her what was on his mind.

“In a week I hope we know each other just a little better than we do today. I have lost interest… in any other woman but you. And my feelings are stronger now than they were a second ago. Lois, I’ve been in love with you from the beginning.”

“And I’ll love you till the end,” she added in an emotional whisper.

“I want to know you more with every breath I take. No one has ever made me feel the way I do when I’m with you. When we become one, I feel it in here.” He placed his hand on his chest. “When we’re together, it’s not sex. I made love for the first time in my life with you.”

Lois’ lip had started to quiver. Her eyes held the unshed tears she was trying to keep from spilling over. “I guess… I just get so… insecure sometimes. Every man in my life has done nothing but hurt me. I feel like I’m waiting for you to take your turn.”

“Oh, Lois, you’ve got one hell of a wait ahead of you.” Lois laughed softly, wiping the tears from her eyes. Clark stopped their dance and lifted his hand to her face. “I can’t promise to never hurt you, but I do promise to try like hell not to. I love you. You, only you; mind, body, and soul.” He leaned to kiss her, and she met him half way.

After a glorious kiss, Clark drew back and started their dance again. As he continued to stare at Lois, he began to sing. Clark didn’t do it often, but when he did, Lois tried to be close enough to hear it. The song was slow, and the words were of love and commitment. When it was over, he lifted his hand so that he could wipe the tear from her cheek.

“That was beautiful, Clark,” she told him after a moment.

He shrugged, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks. He had never sung to a woman before. And though he shared so much with Lois, it still made him self conscious doing so.

“The first time I heard you sing was to Chloe, and it was mesmerizing. I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice.”

“I could say the same about you,” he told her as he pulled her just a bit closer and spun them slowly. They were dancing now to music only they could hear, the CD having long ago finished playing.

“You just can’t take praise very well, can you?” she asked, a smile on her lips. He chuckled softly and leaned over to kiss her neck. “Will you sing for me again?”

“Now?” he wanted to know as he moved up closer to her ear to explore the skin there.

“Well,” she replied, closing her eyes as he continued to nibble on her neck. His lips came up to capture hers, ending all coherent thought. The kiss was immediately deep and passionate. Clark lost altitude, bringing them back to stand on their feet. Hands became frantic as clothes were thrown to the floor. When they were both completely naked, Lois stopped to look in his eyes.

“Make love to me, Clark,” she whispered.

He kissed her collarbone as he gently lowered her to the floor. “Heart to my heart,” he breathed against her mouth.

“Soul to my soul,” Lois answered as she gripped the back of his neck.

“May his seed bring forth many offspring,” he continued some obscure poem absently as his head fell to her shoulder. He felt Lois’ change immediately. He drew back to look at her with concerned eyes. “Honey?”

“Get up, Clark.”

“Okay.” He drew away from her and reached out to help her up. She pushed him away and disappeared into the bathroom. Clark was left to wonder what he had done to bring all this on.

***

“Lois?” He knocked on the door to the bathroom. When Lois hadn’t come out twenty minutes later, he decided it was time to check on her. She didn’t answer, so he pushed open the door slowly. “Honey?”

Lois was sitting in the now cold water of her bath, staring into space. She turned to look at him but failed to really see him.

“Lois, what’s-a-matter?”

She watched him sit down on the toilet, looking at her with worried eyes. “I don’t know if I want to have another baby.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I want to have any more children.”

Clark stared at her, trying to fathom why she would say this. The words he had said when they were making love came rushing back to him. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean those words literally. It just… kind of fit at the time. I love that poem, and it just came out.”

“It spooked me.”

“No kidding. You’ve been in here for a while. Do you mind telling me why you feel this way? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking you to change your mind. It’s just we’ve never talked about the possibility of another pregnancy happening.”

“Clark, I see what unplanned pregnancies have gotten both of us. Sure, we love our babies, but they’ve still suffered for the mistakes we’ve made. I just don’t want to do that to another child.”

“You think that if you were to become pregnant, I wouldn’t want it? Or you?”

“No. Not that. I just don’t want us to be naïve enough to think that we could have another baby, and everything would always be terrific. Clark, if we were to have a child together and something happened, I’d never forgive myself for putting another child through the break-up of its parents. Hell, it would be bad enough that Chloe and Taylor and Jon would have to go through it. I wouldn’t want a helpless baby to have to. Or worse, the child may be older and end up hating one of us or both of us. I just don’t want that.”

“Lois, I wish you’d stop begging for trouble. Look at me.” She met his gaze slowly. This had spooked her, really spooked her. He knew she was very insecure, but this was far worse than he first thought. “Nothing is going to happen between us that we can’t handle and settle. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because unlike what’s happened between me and Lana and you and Dan, we love each other. The kind of real, honest to goodness love that lasts.”

Lois sat there for a minute before her lips slowly spread into a smile. “You can always make me feel better.”

“I hope so.” Clark reached over and stroked her hair. “As for more babies, I feel that should be something we both want to happen. If you don’t want any more, ever, then I sure hope you don’t mind me just continuing to make love to you because it feels good.”

Lois laughed softly. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Clark!” Lois laughed out when he got up and settled in the tub with her, clothes and all. Her laughter soon died when he lifted her onto his lap and proceeded to show her just how good making love could feel.

***

Lois often found herself looking at the sparkling diamond on her finger. She had said yes. More correctly, he had said yes, and she had agreed to marry the most wonderful man on earth… and he wasn’t even from this earth. Clark was her superman.

They were planning a spring wedding. Both were incredibly excited. Their lives wouldn’t change a whole lot from how they lived now, yet just the thought kept them giddy. And they weren’t the only ones. The boys asked tons of questions and were involved in every aspect of the arrangements. Martha and Sam seemed to be just as thrilled. The only one who seemed to care less was Chloe. As long as she was fed and rocked to sleep, she was happy.

The couple received well wishes from everyone. They had gotten a large bouquet of roses as a congratulatory offering from Lana when Jon told her about the engagement. They had even gotten a card from Dan. Life was good and it just couldn’t get any better.

But it could get worse…

“Once again, you’re looking at live coverage of what appears to be a spaceship.” The announcer covered his ear for a moment. “The feed is going live to the site.” The cameras zoomed in on the odd looking vessel that had landed in the middle of runway 5 at Metropolis International Airport. It had landed nearly twenty minutes earlier, and already it had been surrounded with military troops. Nothing of this magnitude had ever happened anywhere in the world, and the US was not about to take any chances.

Smoke puffed from around the shiny, metallic door, and you could hear the hiss of air as it was opened. A woman and a man, both dressed in black, walked down the platform and onto Earth soil. They slowly surveyed the area, not attempting to move when one of the Army officers slowly stepped up to them. A short conversation took place before a camera crew was motioned to come forward.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is Lady Zara and Lt. Ching… from the planet New Krypton,” the officer said into the microphones.

Lois’ eyes found Clark’s shocked and surprised ones. She had seen the hologram in the globe Clark had from his world. They thought he was the only survivor from his planet. Not exactly his planet, but New Krypton was close enough for them. Obviously Clark hadn’t been the only survivor from his dying world.

THE END

(part one)

Credits:

I need to thank a Wanda once again for her wonderful story ‘New Beginnings’. It was my inspiration to start and eventually finish this story.

I have to give credit to Reese Wilson, Van Stephenson, and Tony Martin for the words they wrote to a great song. ‘I Didn’t Ask and She Didn’t Say’, sung by Tim McGraw, was the inspiration for the opening scene. (I know… Seems I get a lot of ideas from songs. I happen to find music very inspirational. Just goes to prove words are powerful. You should be careful what you say.)

I would also like to dedicate the scene in which Clark takes Taylor fishing to my husband. He is an avid fisherman, and one day soon hopes to be able to enjoy his favorite pastime to provide for his family. Though he’s not a huge reader, has only read a couple of my stories in fact, he has never protested to the many hours I’ve spent at the computer. He’s the best.

Taylor was patterned after another special person in my life: my oldest son, Hoyt. He’s intelligent beyond his nine years; he’s constantly asking tons of questions; he’s incredibly compassionate and tender hearted; he’s also about as close to perfect as a mother could ask of a child. I look forward to watching him grow and do wonderful things during his life.

Points of interest:

DCFS in some states in the US stands for the Department of Family and Children Services.

L&D is widely known as labor and delivery at most hospitals.

And a hospitality suite is a room often provided inside the hospital for parents to stay close to sick children who cannot be put into a private room.

June 2012- I wanted to make another note. I wrote this years ago (9 to be exact). The Nfic version is on Annesplace and reads a bit different from this one. For those who have read that version, I hope this one makes the Gfic cut. (or PGfic cut). Thanks to Virginia for helping me get this shaped up enough to post. And thanks to everyone who is still reading and enjoying L&C fic after so many years. I happen to think we have the best fandom on the net!

Truths That Deceive

Anti-Kryptonite <dreamnovelist@gmail.com>

Rated G

Submitted April 2012

Summary: Clark loves Lois but wants her back as a friend; Lois thinks she might love Clark but wants him back as a friend. What can fix a premature declaration of love and a rejection? A lie, but one that holds kernels of truth.

Disclaimer: Dialogue is taken from House Of Luthor, written by Dan Levine. No copyright infringement is intended.

***

Clark

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.”

Stupid, he chastises himself; he didn’t make even a token effort of looking at the new Daily Planet globe, and she must realize that, no matter that she’s been avoiding his eyes since the immediate aftermath of her almost-wedding. And yet, even if it is stupid, he can’t really bring himself to care — because it’s the truth, because even if she lets them both pretend he’s talking about something else, he knows that at least he was able to say it this once.

Besides, after today, after he utters the most painful lie he’ll ever tell, he’ll never get a chance to voice such sentiments again. All that will be left is friendship. Platonic friendship.

But it’s what she wants. Maybe even what they need right now. She’s been hurt, betrayed, disappointed, and she needs a friend right now, not a suitor. So he’ll pretend that he’s speaking of the Daily Planet and he’ll pretend that he doesn’t always think about Lois’s inner and outer beauty and he’ll pretend that this whole Luthor fiasco never happened.

For her, he can do all that. Or at least…he hopes he can.

She’s walking toward him, and he feels his heart seize up in his chest, wonders if it’s possible for a Kryptonian to have a heart attack just by looking at the love of his life, thinks it would have been nice of Jor-El to mention that in his brief message.

“You never gave up,” Lois observes, her voice free of accusation or anguish or apathy, made that much more melodic because of it. “On the Planet. On your friends. On me.”

He wonders if it means anything that she separated herself from the rest of his friends, divided herself into a level apart from his truly platonic friendships. That she does at all is a change, a big one, and he can’t help but savor it and wish, yet again, for impossible dreams.

“I couldn’t,” he says instead, again relishing the chance to speak the truth without driving her away. And yet, truthful or not, it’s understated, wrapped in misdirection and evasion. For being a beacon of integrity, he thinks, Superman sure leaves a myriad of deception in his wake. “You’ve just named probably everything in this world that’s precious to me.”

She pauses, puts her hand on the side of the building, and he’s suddenly glad there’s a barricade between them because if there weren’t, even Superman might not have been able to stop Clark Kent from pulling her into a very not-platonic embrace.

“I don’t think I’ve ever — will ever — meet anyone quite like you,” she says, and for an instant, he’s struck by the feeling that she’s saying just as much, and concealing it in the same manner, as he did when commenting on her beauty.

He has no response to it, whether that’s what she means or not. Because, really, how is he supposed to answer that without laying himself bare, without telling her that, yes, she has met someone like him? In fact, Superman is identical in every way save one — he’s an alien and has abilities as a result of that. And she loves Superman, or thinks she does, or used to think she did, but she doesn’t love Clark.

Except…except for that hug right after her almost-wedding. Except for the fact that she didn’t say “I do.” Except for the quiet, wondering glances she’s been giving him all week. Except for a hundred other things that make him wonder what could be, what might be, what the future just might bring…

But he wants to see hope so badly that maybe he’s only imagining it.

And what he didn’t imagine was the loneliness in her voice when she called him during her engagement, the awkwardness that had sat between them like a huge, ungainly elephant that threatened to crush them both, the long pauses and somewhat cold goodbyes they had exchanged. Or the desperation he’d felt shivering through her slender frame when she’d thrown herself into his arms outside Lex Tower, the tears that had soaked through the collar of his shirt, the tiny anguished whimper that slipped from between her lips to pierce him to his core.

She needs a friend, he knows, and maybe he does too. Maybe he needs that certainty that she’ll be there the next time he looks for her, that she won’t hang up her phone if he calls her, that she’ll be his partner without jumping every time he smiles at her or blushing when he puts his hand on her back or making excuses every time he asks her to lunch or to watch a video or any other thing he’s grown used to getting to do with her.

Maybe they both need space. Maybe they both need simple friendship. Maybe they both need each other, and as unsure about everything else as he is, the one thing he knows for certain is that they’ll never be comfortable with each other, never go back to the way it was, not with his unwelcome declaration of love sitting between them.

“Lois — ” he begins at the same time as she says his name, shyness and timidity evident in her tone despite her smile, which only makes him more sure than ever that, painful as it will be, he needs to speak aloud this lie that has nothing — or, well, little — to do with his alter ego. Because when has Lois ever been shy? When is she timid?

Only when she’s unsure, when she’s lost, when she’s afraid.

And he can’t stand for her to be unsure around him. Doesn’t want her to be lost when his friendship could ground her. Can’t bear for her to ever be afraid of him, to think he’ll expect things from her she’s not prepared to give, to feel like she’s disappointing him when just her mere presence and a smile or her head on his shoulder or her hand in his is enough to send him over the moon even without the benefit of flight.

“No, let me go first,” Lois demands, and there’s the hint of a smile in her voice now, which just might be worse because usually that smile only shows up when Superman’s around, and that’s not something he can face right now. Not something their relationship — just beginning to so tentatively be repaired — can withstand.

No maybe about it — he does need time to just be her friend again. Maybe just as much as she does.

So he pushes aside his chivalrous impulses — and his discomfort with doing so — and he says, “No, no, no. Not this time.”

And then he looks at her because as many half-truths and polite evasions and excuses he’s made, this is still the most blatant lie he’s ever spoken to her. And he hates lying to her when lives are on the line; it’s so much worse when he’s doing it for selfish reasons.

Only, they’re not completely selfish. It’s for her sake as much as for his, even more so, really.

Because he loves her, he can pretend that he doesn’t.

“Lois, I’m sorry. About a lot of things.” That’s not a lie, and so it comes easily. He is sorry for cutting her off, for not being there for her, for not getting the proof they needed before the actual day of the wedding, for hurting her without even meaning to. And he’s sorry for the lie he’s about to tell her, the deception he may never fully recover from, the prevarication that just might doom anything all those things he thinks — hopes — he sees in her might lead them to. And yet, without this deception, their relationship may never last, not for a lifetime, not for eternity, not for as long as he wants it to.

“I wanted to bring Luthor down, but I never wanted to hurt you.” He wants her to know that, wants that to be clear, wants her to remember that more than she remembers anything else about this conversation. “I shouldn’t have said anything…about the way I felt toward you. It put you in an incredibly awkward position.”

He had known it too, known she didn’t love him, known she didn’t need another man thrown into the mix. But he had told her anyway, with insane hope, with desperate optimism, with crushing results. It’s his fault they’re at this awkward place, and it’s his responsibility to fix it.

So far, he’s told only the truth, and that’s important to him. When the day of reckoning for this moment comes, when she learns the truth and confronts him about it — and he refuses to believe that there won’t be a time when she knows and yet still talks to him — he wants to have as clear a conscience as he can. Maybe it’s semantics, but those shades of gray are sometimes are all that lets him stomach another lie, another excuse, another evasion.

“No, Clark, I really — ” she interrupts, and it’s just like her, it really is, enough so that he knew to expect it, knew to plan on just continuing to talk over her. He’s sure this tactic will work — it always does for her.

“No, the truth of the matter is, Lois,” and now he’s talking quickly, swiftly, propelling the words from his mouth as if speed will separate him that much sooner from the lie, will move him closer to the long-sought day when lies are no longer necessary between them. And he moves his hand behind his back and crosses his fingers, a useless, childish gesture, but it makes him feel a little bit better because it means that not everything is a lie — what he’s saying is, but not the way he’s standing, angled toward her, leaning in so that he can smell her perfume, his hand behind his back revealing what a complete masquerade this whole conversation is. “It — it wasn’t true.”

Very ironic words for a lie, he thinks, but it’s too late to back out now because she’s staring at him, her dark eyes wide with confusion, her mouth closing over whatever she wants to tell him.

And now here it is, the lie, the prevarication he’d made sure Superman avoided, the lie Clark Kent can’t avoid, not if he wants to keep his reason for living in his life.

He manufactures a laugh, but it sounds as fake as his confession. “I’m not in love with you.” Funny how the words get stuck in his throat, refusing to emerge into air, fighting and protesting every step of the way, scraping along the confines of his mouth before necessity finally shoves them out where Lois can hear them, where it’s now too late to send them retreating back to where they came from.

“You’re not?” she asks, double-checking what she heard, and it’s strange that she seems to have lost all her earlier energy, that her eyes seem to be a bit darker, a bit shinier. Or maybe it’s not so strange — after all, her friend is claiming that he told her a despicable lie to keep her safe.

And it’s even almost true.

He’s telling her a despicable lie to keep her happy.

It’s not exactly the same thing, but it’s close enough to make him squirm in discomfort to have to repeat the lie.

“I would have said anything to stop you from marrying Luthor,” he tells her, and that’s the truth too. If he hadn’t been stuck in Luthor’s cage, if they hadn’t gotten the proof they needed, he had been planning to tell her what he did in his spare time, and if that didn’t count as telling her anything to keep her away from Luthor, then nothing did.

“Oh,” she murmurs. And now he’s afraid because she doesn’t seem more comfortable with him, doesn’t seem ready to go back to their easy, companionable friendship. Instead, she seems even more uncomfortable, more uncertain, more alone, and that wasn’t what he meant to accomplish at all! “Well, if — if that’s how you feel…”

It isn’t, but he’s not going to lie yet again. As it is, he already feels like he needs to go speed through the ocean as fast as possible with his mouth wide open in order to wash out the stench and taste of this lie he’d never thought he’d speak.

So, carefully, he goes back to one of his favorites: misdirection.

“I want the same thing that you want,” he assures her, and he does, as far as that goes. He’ll certainly never force her into anything she doesn’t want, but if she one day wants more than friendship…well, he wouldn’t object and the only delay would be in getting him back down off the moon. “For us to be friends and partners. Forever.”

His fingers aren’t crossed anymore because this at least is the whole, unvarnished truth. Even if it is said in a way to make her feel safe with him and for him to feel safe spending so much time with her while hiding so much of what he feels for her.

Then she smiles at him, quieting and softening, and he thinks that maybe this lie is worth the anguish it feels to speak it aloud.

“Forever,” she echoes him, half an affirmation, half a question.

But he doesn’t know what the question is, exactly, which means he doesn’t know how to answer her. So he just gives her the hint of a smile. He can’t tear his eyes off of her, glad his self-appointed task is finally over but uncertain where to go from here. It’s disappointing, this moment, because he’s spent the past week convincing himself that if he told her this lie, they’d be just as they had been before, be just Lois and Clark again, hardly even any spaces to separate them, their names blending and merging together in everyone’s mouths.

But they aren’t LoisandClark right now. They’re still Lois standing there and Clark standing here, and they might be close physically, but there’s still a distance that has yet to be bridged. And that hurts, but he can’t convince his battered heart that he’s only imagining all the things he thinks he sees in her, and he’s nothing if not patient, so he firms up his smile for her and asks, “Now, what did you want to say?”

***

Lois

“Now, what did you want to say?” he asks her, and she’s at a complete loss because what can she possibly say after that bombshell he’s just dropped on her?

A minute earlier, and she would have been telling him that she might just possibly love him as more than a friend. She hadn’t thought she loved him, but that mirror in Lex Tower that had framed her in her wedding dress had certainly been revealing, pulling out of her the simple “Lois Lane Kent” that betrayed the fact that she did think of Clark as a possible romantic partner. Since then, all week long, she’d been looking at him in a new light, sneaking sidelong glances at him and wondering what it would be like to have him as a boyfriend or as a lover or — and this surprised her, but she blamed the wedding dress for it — as a husband.

And what she has decided, what she so badly wants to tell him, is that he will make a great boyfriend, a wonderful lover, an amazing husband. He’s always there for her, always looking out for her best interests, always putting aside his own concerns to address hers. She knows that maybe best of all about him, and that’s why she’s suddenly afraid to say anything while she replays the last few minutes through her mind.

“I’m not in love with you,” he’d said, but he’s shifting his weight uncomfortably, and he’s a bit too intent on meeting her eyes, and he can’t quite rearrange his features to erase any hint of the complete and utter sincerity that had touched every millimeter of his being when he’d told her he loved her.

It’d be so easy to believe him at this moment, so easy to snort derisively, and enter this onto her mental balance sheet as the final proof that men will always betray her, and wash her hands of him.

And yet…in all the weeks she was engaged to Lex, she couldn’t make herself forget the little things Clark always did for her, the smiles he unveiled for her, the touches that told her he cared for her, the cups of coffee and donuts and lunches and Double Fudge Crunch bars when she was stressed, the tasks he’d done before she could that he never really mentioned or held against her, the soft, endearing light that unfailingly gleamed in his eyes every time he looked at her. She’d first seen that light over Chinese food at her desk, and it had scared her then even more than it scared her now.

She’d shot him down, then, warned him not to fall for her. But he’d gone and done it anyway, and she’d have to be an idiot to ignore the memory of his manner every day they’d worked together and spent together in favor of the words he was telling her now.

Because that soft, endearing light was still gleaming in his eyes. Because it had shone like a beacon when he said he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. Because it had flickered and burned when he said he couldn’t give up on her. Because it’s glowing like embers now, as he patiently watches her with a smile ready to flash at her should she need it.

It hurts to hear him say he lied, but she knows that’s because it’s hard to envision Clark lying to her at all. He told her the truth about Luthor, about his feelings, about everything…until this moment when he actually is lying to her.

But he’s so transparent, so predictable. She should have known he’d do this, should have guessed he’d be trying to find anyway to make her more comfortable, to be her friend again, to correct what he surely has to think was a mistake. She knows exactly why he’s lying to her, and it’s disappointing, but she’s nothing if not flexible, so she discards her own prepared speech and smiles back at him. It’s a tiny smile, not quite real yet, but then, none of her smiles have been real since before her wedding-that-wasn’t day.

“Oh, nothing,” she answers him. She’s a much better liar than he is, but she can’t quite make that sound convincing, so she keeps going, trying desperately to recover her footing and reclaim the Lois Lane she used to be before Lex had wrecked her. “Yeah, uh, what you said. I’m just…that. Sort of,” she can’t resist adding because that “forever” he mentioned sounded somewhat final, and she’s not sure she wants to lock herself into this lie for quite that long.

His shoulders relax a bit as tension bleeds from him and his smile suddenly looks a bit less forced, and she thinks she made the right decision in going along with his lie. Maybe there is regret evident in his expression, and maybe she too thinks wistfully of the confession she had been going to give him, but she isn’t the only one who’s been hurt in the past weeks. Clark was the one who bravely uncovered his heart only to have it broken, and he’s the one who’d held her while she cried after Lex’s death yet selflessly refrained from saying a single I-told-you-so.

And, really, what had she planned to confess to him today, anyway? She can’t tell him she loves him, not yet. She’s not ready, not yet convinced that she does. She thinks she could, thinks she might, but she doesn’t know yet, and if she told Clark that, what would that do? It’d make him wait, trap him in an uncertain in-between that would keep him always on edge. It’d make her feel pressured to decide right now whether she loved him or not and how could she expect to know for certain if she’s pressured into it?

Besides, she misses Clark, misses him even though she’s been with him for most of the past week. She misses when they could tease each other without worrying about offending or hurting the other, when she could place a hand on his chest to emphasize a point without guiltily worrying that she was giving him a false impression, when he could smile at her without throwing her into a tailspin wondering what he was thinking or imagining when he looked at her that way.

She misses being his just-friend and having a just-friend.

And maybe he does too. Maybe this isn’t only about her. Maybe he’s afraid of what his confession might mean to their friendship. She’s never felt so comfortable with anyone in her life, and that’s been something she’s known for months now…but she’s never stopped to wonder if maybe he feels the same. Has he ever had a friend as close as her? Has he ever been able to be himself around someone as much as she can be herself around him?

Maybe he needs her just as much as she needs him.

It’s a scary thought, and she looks down, breaking their gaze, while she thinks it through. She’s never had anyone who depends on her like that, not really, not totally, not enough so that the wrong reaction from her left him destroyed enough so that when he’d looked away and run a hand through his hair, she’d thought he might actually crumble into little pieces.

But…she wants to be there for Clark. He’s been there for her; surely she can be there for him too.

So she smiles at him, unable to help the way it turns wistful and longing. She sees the effects of it in Clark, the way his smile dwindles away to be replaced by that same look he’d worn over the best Chinese food she’s ever had. And she wonders if he realizes just how transparent he is, wonders if he knows that she knows he’s lying, wonders if that made this lie — so contrary to his basic personality — easier for him to give her.

And despite being slightly disappointed that she won’t be able, after all, to tell him what had been playing through her mind while she walked up the aisle toward Lex, she can’t help but be glad to see her friend Clark. Inside herself, she feels some tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been feeling unwinding, uncurling, evaporating under the bright gleam in his smoky-brown eyes.

There’s a waist-high barricade between them, yet she forgets that for a moment as he leans the slightest bit toward her. Like magnets, she’s drawn forward too, and she knows they’ve barely finished agreeing to be just friends, but if they do kiss, as it seems like they might in an instant, would that really be so bad? She’s having a hard time remembering all the reasons she had come up with to not tell him that she’s been watching him now and liking — a lot — what she sees.

But then, unexpectedly, inexplicably, he tears his gaze away from her, cocks his head as if he’s suddenly remembered something. And suddenly, he’s not content to stand there anymore; instead, he’s filled to bursting with energy, with purpose, with life. It’s a transformation she’s seen before, and yet she’s never really taken the time to wonder at it. It’s a habit he’s had since she’s first known him, a quirk she’s accepted, but now, maybe for the first time, she actually wonders what it is that transforms him from her still, steady rock to suddenly being a fountain of vitality and intensity that needs to move now.

“Uh, could you excuse me for a second, Lois?” he asks, already moving, already making a meaningless gesture with his hand, yet still watching her, hesitating an instant, slowing the burst of that energetic fountain for her. “We can continue this later. I have to go.”

She turns to watch him go, running from her, and a swell of confusion surges within her. But it’s a familiar confusion, a familiar sight — him running in a hurry to some task she doesn’t quite understand — a familiar event. And strangely, as odd as it is, this makes everything complete, sends them back to their comfortable, familiar friendship.

“Sure,” she says because she wants to say something after so long a time of not saying anything, because it seems like the thing to do, giving him permission to complete whatever so wholly captures his attention. “Why not? Go. Run off and disappear like you always do when we’re having a discussion.”

Her curiosity, never far away and yet driven into hiding all those weeks of her engagement, slips interestedly after the matter of Clark’s quick exits, yet she doesn’t really turn her attention to it. Clark’s her friend and he was there for her when even she let herself down — the least she can do now is not investigate him. She hadn’t investigated Lex, after all; how can she not give this much more worthwhile man the same courtesy?

Besides, unlike with Lex, she is sure that Clark will tell her what his secret is, if it becomes important. But for now, after having just been given the gift of their friendship back, she’s not ready to so soon endanger it, not eager to test boundaries mere moments after they’ve established them.

Friends. It’s not what she thought they’d be this morning, when she’d given herself a rousing speech meant to motivate her into confessing her maybe-feelings to Clark. And yet, she thinks that maybe it’s enough for the time being. She’s had boyfriends before, even had a fiancé now, but none of those relationships have, in the end, meant nearly as much to her as her friendship with Clark.

And that’s enough, for now, to keep her whole, to keep her sane, to keep her from ripping herself to shreds for not having seen through Lex.

“Well,” she muses, “I guess everything’s back to normal.”

But her thoughts are tossed and scattered by the sudden shock of a sonic boom, a flash of blue and red from high up in the heavens.

Superman.

That, too, is something — someone — she hasn’t considered much lately, not since a midnight meeting that both shames and angers her. His absence over the past week has made it easy to push him aside; Clark’s now-noticeable presence has made it almost impossible to spare the superhero a thought at all.

She had thought Superman was different, or not what she had thought at all, after his response to her declaration of love, but now, with the echoes of Clark’s apology and gift still ringing in her ears, she thinks that maybe she can understand Superman a bit better. After all, she’d been the one playing his part in the park the afternoon Clark had made his declaration of love.

So she looks up at the sky where Superman’s bold, entrancing colors splay out in a ribbon threaded through the clouds, and she feels a short smile twist her lips. Because she may be able to love Clark, but she already knows that she does love Superman. And maybe it’s not a love that can last forever, maybe it’s not a love that can exist in the real world, but it’s love nonetheless, and she likes to keep her options open.

Because, for her sake or not, today Clark lied to her.

But Superman has never lied to her.

“I’m not done with you either, big fella,” she whispers, a silent promise to both herself and Superman.

Clark has a secret; she has Superman. One day, maybe they’ll tear down these last barriers — maybe Clark will tell her what keeps him running away with such purpose in his gaze and maybe she’ll finally be able to give up her dreams of romance with a superhero and give Clark what he deserves. But for now, she’s been given a second chance. And that’s something, really, that she hadn’t thought could be hers, that had sounded more unlikely than unicorns in those moments when Henderson and Perry had burst into her wedding ceremony.

But it’s hers now. Clark gave it to her, and she’s accepted it.

So she’ll take this second chance, this opportunity to start over again and maybe fix the things that went wrong the first time. And maybe, somewhere along the way, she’ll find the answer to doing things right.

For Clark’s sake.

And for hers.

THE END

The Truth About Soul Mates

By VirginiaR. <lc.virginiaR@gmail.com>

Rated: G

Submitted: December 2012

Summary: An alternative explanation to “Soul Mates”.

***

Lois and Clark turned hand-in-hand towards the elevators and H.G. Wells, who held his trademarked bowler hat in his hands.

“Well, the curse is broken, good and evil are back in balance, and love…” Wells sighed in contentment. “ – has conquered all. Destiny has blessed you both with each other; no small gift indeed. There are many people who travel alone, well, their whole lives and envy what you two have together, greatly. Try to remember that the next time the gods…” he said, looking up and shaking his fist in jest. “— decide to test you.” He jumped with surprise as the elevator chimed behind him, and chuckled, backing slowly into the elevator. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, giving Lois and Clark a wide grin as the elevator doors closed between them.

With the elevator doors closed, Wells made a fast spin. He changed from a mustached man from the late 1800s into goateed imp from the fifth dimension. Mxyzptlk jumped with delight at having taken Lois and Clark away from their predestined Hawaiian honeymoon, and on an unnecessary two-day detour through time to change a curse that had never really existed. He gave a little clap. How gullible these fools were!

He decided to make it a habit to drop in on them from time to time. What fun he could have interrupting the important events of their lives! As it was now, they wouldn’t conceive their first child on their honeymoon, as scheduled, and Superman would spend the next year thinking that he couldn’t father children. Mxyzptlk giggled and snapped his fingers, disappearing from the moving box before the doors opened again.

THE END?

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. The characters in this story were created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series, developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. I borrow the characters from time to time from Warner Bros, DC Comics, and the heirs to Siegel and Shuster, when they invade my psyche and demand I write what they tell me. Wells’s dialogue came from the Season 4 episode “Soul Mates” written by Brad Kern.

Gratitude: This is in response to Queen of Capes “Episode Mash-Up” Challenge. I mashed up “Soul Mates” and “‘twas The Night Before Mxymas” (Kinda, sorta, not really). This alternate ending is dedicated to and inspired by Mrs. Luthor, with an extra shout-out to Christina, who I know hates the Soul Mate curse.

T.O.G.O.M. 2012 – Moving On

By Tank Wilson <tankw1@aol.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: October 2012

Summary: Five years after witnessing Clark’s death in “That Old Gang of Mine,” Lois believes she has come to terms with his death and has established a new life in Los Angeles… until she inadvertently sees him again.

Okay, I know some of the gentle readers thought they might get through a year without my annual TOGOM effort, but alas, there is no escape. Time to face the most rewritten episode once again.

***

Lois stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. She usually didn’t worry about how she looked when going out to meet Peter, but tonight was going to be special. At least, she thought it was going to be.

She’d overheard one of the office gossips telling her cubicle neighbor that she had a friend who worked at Peter’s office. That friend, supposedly, had overheard him on the phone telling someone that he was going to pop the question this evening at dinner. A smile crept onto Lois’s face as she checked her hair and makeup one last time. If it was going to happen, she was going to be ready.

Lois slowly left the bathroom and headed for the closet to grab a light wrap. Even though it was Los Angeles, the evenings could get chilly in the fall. As she reached for her jacket, she had to stop and marvel at the chaotic series of events that had so changed her life in just five short years.

There was a quick, sharp ache in her heart as memory forced its way into her conscious mind. It had been five years ago that her life had taken a drastic turn. Clark had been killed by the resurrected gangster Clyde Barrow while protecting her from the unwanted advances of another should-have-been-dead gangster named Dillinger. It had hit her hard. Much harder than even she thought it would have.

Clark Kent had been her partner at the Daily Planet in Metropolis, and her best friend. In that horrible split second, she had lost her partner and her best friend… and something more.

It is a sad truth that you never realize what you have until you lose it.

She had always known that Clark had feelings for her, perhaps even was in love with her, but she chose the safe route. It was easier to accept the warmth and comfort provided by having Clark as her friend. She liked that he was the guy who would always be there for her when needed, yet she would be able to put a little distance between them if she felt herself being smothered by his affection.

After his death, she realized what a fool she had been. She hadn’t allowed herself to examine her true feelings until he was no longer there: she had been in love with him. She had lost the one man who she thought she’d never meet, and she came to that epiphany too late.

Clark was gone and she was alone. Again.

Her existence those months after Clark’s death had been just that — existence. After bringing the resurrected gangsters to justice, Lois had sleepwalked her way through the next year. Her writing suffered. Her investigative instincts suffered. Perry covered for her as best he could, but her production as the Daily Planet’s top reporter had fallen off to the point of her job being in jeopardy. She didn’t care.

She left before Perry would have been forced to fire her.

With no idea of what she should do, or where she should go, Lois opted to go visit her sister, Lucy, in Los Angeles. She had only intended to stay with Luce for a short time. Just long enough to get over her loss and find herself again.

She never left.

After several months of moping around Lucy’s apartment, her ‘loving’ sister threw her out. It had been the wake-up call Lois needed.

In the months that followed, Lois had managed to land a job at the Times. Her reputation had helped, but her decline over the past couple of years had forced her into accepting a job that was barely more than what Jimmy had been when she was at the Planet.

Once again, the Lane luck had surfaced and she struck reporting gold. Being in the right place at the right time had served Lois very well. She’d been at City Hall getting her driver’s license renewed when she recognized a fellow passing by in an adjacent hallway. He had been a high-up in Intergang back in Metropolis. Once a crook, always a crook, Lois thought, so she followed him.

It led her to exposing a huge conspiracy in the Mayor’s office, leading to his ouster and blocking Intergang from getting a toehold in Los Angeles. It was all the impetus Lois needed to get her career kick-started again.

Over the next year she rose quickly through the ranks of the reporters at the Los Angeles Times and was soon top dog once again.

Then she met Peter.

Peter Lochton, as the heir to the Lochton Cosmetics empire, had been a story. Peter’s father had died under mysterious circumstances and Lois decided to find out just what those circumstances were.

After a several weeks of long investigation, Lois finally cracked the case. It had turned out to be a murder but Lois found that instead of Peter (the one with the most to gain) being the guilty one, it had been a simple crime of vengeance with no ties to the commercial empire at all.

Instead of being bitter and angry with Lois for her dogged pursuit of him and the reasons surrounding his father’s death, Peter Lochton had grown to admire Lois’s ferocity and determination. He also found her quite attractive.

At first, Lois had tried to discourage Peter’s advances even though she found him charming and quite handsome. She just wasn’t ready to move on in that way. Her heart was still vulnerable and she wasn’t sure she could handle another relationship. In a perverse way, she almost saw it as a betrayal of Clark’s love for her even though she’d been too stupid to admit it to him — or herself — and that she returned his feelings.

If anything, Peter was persistent, and over time he was able to overcome Lois’s fears and they started dating seriously. That had been a little over a year ago and now it was time for Lois to meet her ‘boyfriend’ for a romantic dinner and find out if a new chapter in the life of Lois Lane was about to begin.

***

“Hey, Jerry, there you are. Where did you disappear to?”

Jerome Clark straightened his tie as he came around the corner and into the main room of D. Balton’s Books. The store manager looked at him questioningly. Jerome gave him a slight, embarrassed smile and pointed toward the back of the store.

“You know… I had things to take care of.”

The store manager grinned and nodded knowingly. “Okay, you’re all set.” He pointed to the table and chair set up over to one side of the open space. “The signing is set for eight o’clock,” he said, pointing at the line of folks standing patiently behind a velvet rope. “I’m letting them through in two minutes.”

Jerome nodded as he sat down. He checked the little sign sitting on the corner of his table. ‘Jerome Clark signing his new book — Available for purchase at 20% off’. It had been a near thing. Jerome had ‘heard’ a security alarm go off a few blocks away and was forced to sneak out to take care of it as Superman.

It turned out to be nothing more than a false alarm, so he hadn’t been delayed long. He sighed as he leaned back in the chair waiting for the crowd to descend on him. Even though he’d been using the name Jerome Clark for over three years, it was still hard to think of himself as anyone other than Clark Kent, the name his parents had given him.

He glanced out the big window facing the outside sidewalk and watched the people walk by on a pleasant California evening. Suddenly he froze, staring at a young woman who was just passing in front of the store. It was Lois!

She was wearing a smart pair of slacks and a crisp, pastel blue blouse. Her hair was short, but it was definitely Lois, and she looked beautiful. Just seeing her again took his breath away.

Clark knew that Lois was working as a top reporter for the Times but he never figured that in a city of ten million people he’d actually see her. For his own sanity’s sake, and hers, he’d purposely stayed away, even as Superman.

He watched as Lois slowed and inexplicably she turned and glanced through the large window. Their eyes met, recognition was instantaneous. He could tell by the shocked look on Lois’s face.

“I just love your new book, Mr. Clark. Your photos of all those exotic places really make me feel like I’m right there with you. And your descriptive narrative is absolutely riveting.”

Clark’s attention was ripped back to the lady in front of him. When he looked back toward the front window, Lois was gone.

***

Lois parked her Jeep in a public lot a couple of blocks from the restaurant where Peter had asked her to meet him. It was a little Italian joint in a modest part of town, away from the glitz and glitter of the downtown restaurants but not too far out so as to be in a less than reputable neighborhood. It was a warm evening, but a fresh breeze was blowing and it was quite pleasant. She would enjoy the short walk.

She was passing one of those big-box bookstores when a strange feeling came over her and she felt compelled to glance through their large front window. She could see a line of folks holding books in their hands. It was obviously some sort of author signing event. Her eye was drawn to the gentleman sitting at the table awaiting his fans.

He was staring out the window at her when their eyes met. Lois felt the blood in her veins chill. It was Clark! It couldn’t be Clark… Clark was dead. But it was Clark, she knew it. His hair was combed a bit different, and his glasses were only wire-rimmed, but she would swear that the handsome, dark-haired man sitting at the table in the bookstore was her dead ex-partner.

Suddenly her vision was blocked by an elderly lady rushing up to the table with her book outstretched in her hand.

Lois ran down the sidewalk, tears blinding her as she went. She had no destination; she just needed to get away. All thoughts of Peter and the dinner she was supposed to be going to fled. She needed to find someplace quiet; someplace she could be alone. Her mind was in turmoil and she needed time to think.

Tears continued streaming down her face as she finally came upon a weathered old bench sitting in the middle of a small grassy patch. She flung herself onto the bench and let her sobs have their way.

Her heart felt like it had been shredded.

How could she have seen Clark? He would never have pretended to be dead and not told her; he loved her. So that person she saw in the bookstore window couldn’t have been Clark. Yet she knew down to the roots of her soul that it was Clark. He was there, he was alive, and he had never told her.

Several people passing by gave her looks of concern, or pity, but no one stopped. She didn’t seem to be in any danger, so it was none of their business. Lois’s sobs eventually eased as she fought a few hiccups and reached for her handkerchief to wipe her face.

She stared down the street, toward the storefront she’d just run from. Nothing was going to convince her that it hadn’t been Clark she had seen. She’d recognized him instantly and she could tell by the look on his face and in his eyes that he’d recognized her too.

Lois took a deep breath and chewed on her lower lip. She had to put aside the pain and the hurt, there would be time enough for that later. Now she had to bring her intellect and deductive skills to bear.

She’d been standing next to him when Clyde’s bullets struck down the best friend she’d ever had. The gangsters had dragged Clark’s lifeless body from the gambling club, yet he was alive. If the man she saw in the bookstore was Clark, and nothing would convince her that it wasn’t, then the question remained… how?

***

Clark pasted a smile on his face and tried to appear interested in what his fans had to say, in a valiant attempt to fool them all into thinking he was having a good time. The truth was, his mind was stuck on one thought: Lois. He was sure that the woman he’d seen through the window was Lois, and he was just as certain that she had recognized him.

The look on her face was burned into his mind. She was shocked, then he detected a moment of denial, but finally she exhibited such a look of anguish that Clark almost found himself getting up and going after her. It was then that he’d been interrupted by the first fan in line. The signing had started. By the time he’d been able to sneak a peek back, she was gone.

He’d known that Lois lived in Los Angeles now. He couldn’t help himself. He’d followed her career path at the Times. It had taken Lois a while to get back on her feet, so to speak, but her talent couldn’t be buried forever. Her innate drive and intelligence had carried her to a successful journalistic career even here.

She had found a new life, and he was happy for her. He missed her terribly, but she had moved on, and she had the right to live her new life without the reminders of a past filled with unhappy memories.

As Superman, he’d made a conscious choice not to visit Los Angeles unless absolutely necessary. Lois deserved the chance to start fresh in a new town, with new friends and a new life.

In the five years since his ‘death’ he’d only seen her once. She was covering the story of a minor earthquake which had occurred when Superman had been in the area. The Man of Steel’s help had been needed to shore up a damaged highway bridge until all those on it could get to safety.

As he was leaving, Lois called out to him. His first impulse had been to pretend to not hear her, but that would have been disingenuous. Lois was well aware of his hearing capabilities.

He had turned, smiled at her, and waved as he sped off. He never looked back to see her reaction. He wasn’t strong enough.

When his publisher pushed him to do a book signing in Los Angeles, he’d resisted. Without being able to tell him the real reason why Clark didn’t want to visit L.A., he’d not been able to give his publisher any real good reason to skip one of the largest cities in the world, and snub a very large contingent of his fans.

Considering the size of the city, and the fact that there would be absolutely no logical reason for Lois to be anywhere near a book signing for an author of coffee table travel books, he acquiesced. He felt confident that he could slip in, do his signing, and leave without causing the least ripple in Lois’s life. He’d been wrong. The Fates had conspired against him.

Now he was sitting in a bookstore, in Lois’s town, trying and failing to pay attention to the gracious people who wanted to tell him how much they enjoyed his photos and writing.

He’d been signing ‘Jerome Clark’ on autopilot to the inside cover of every book stuck in front of his face. He’d smile and say something innocuous in response to whatever they had to say. Mostly it was in the form of some sort of ‘thank you’.

After the most recent book was pulled away after his autograph, he looked up to greet the next person in line. He froze. It was her! Her hair was shorter than she’d worn it when he’d known her, and she’d lost a little weight, but it was…

“Lois?”

One brow rose slightly. “So you do remember.” She flipped a business card down onto the table. “On the back is my current address. I’m going home.” Her face was a mask but Clark could see the reddish splotches under her eyes that told him she’d been crying recently. “I think you owe me an explanation. If you think I deserve one, stop by after you finish up here.” She quickly turned and left the store.

Clark just stared after her as she disappeared out the door and down the street. Picking the card up and putting it in his pocket, Clark turned his attention back to the next fan waiting in line.

***

The ringing of her phone greeted Lois as she got back to her apartment. She tossed her wrap and bag onto the kitchen table and grabbed the persistent appliance.

“Peter? I’m so sorry. An unexpected problem came up and I couldn’t make it to the restaurant.” She listened for a moment. “No, it wasn’t work-related, but I got sidetracked and completely lost track of time. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

A frown of apprehension gripped Lois. She had no logical excuse for her behavior. At least not in Peter’s eye, but she just couldn’t explain herself; not yet, even if he deserved one.

“Look, sweetie, it’s really complicated, and I’m wiped out. Can we talk about this tomorrow?” She held her breath as the voice on the other end of the phone answered. “Thanks so much, you’re the best. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Lois replaced the receiver and made her way over to the couch. She settled herself comfortably for the wait. She didn’t turn on the television, or the radio. She just sat in silence, alone with her thoughts. The problem was, she didn’t know what to think.

While sitting in the park she had come to some insights that, in hindsight, should have been obvious. But to be fair, the situation had shocked and dismayed her to such a point that she hadn’t been able to think logically. She only knew that her life had been irrevocably altered.

She had been sitting, waiting, for less than half an hour when there was a knock on the door.

“It’s open.” She looked over as Clark pushed the door open and stepped into her apartment.

“It’s open? Are you sure you’re really Lois Lane?” His weak smile conveyed his discomfort as much as his lame attempt at a joke.

Lois motioned for Clark to come into the living room. “Thanks for coming, Clark. Please sit.” She indicated the chair placed opposite from her current position. “Would you like something? A soda, or some coffee or… tea?”

Clark shook his head. He was definitely uncomfortable. He couldn’t stop his hands from flexing and fidgeting. He looked up. “You cut your hair.”

Lois’s hand strayed to her short locks. “I cut it two years ago. It fits the lifestyle here.”

Clark nodded. “I can see that. It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

Lois took a deep breath and placed her hands on her knees. “Okay, here it is. When I saw you through the bookstore window, I was shocked. I’ve spent the last five years learning how to live with your death. I had to learn how to keep getting up every morning and carrying on while coping with a loss that was greater than I’d ever imagined it would be. I didn’t handle it very well.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Lois.”

She held up her hand. “We’ll get to that in due time. I assume you know how poorly things went after your supposed death, and that I finally had to leave Metropolis. I had to escape the constant reminders that you were gone.”

Lois stared at the floor for a few moments. “Things were bad for a time, but I was finally able to put my life back together and things are actually going quite well for me now.”

“I’m glad, Lois.” Clark looked like he was going to add more, but Lois cut him off.

“Not yet.” She took another deep breath. “After the shock of seeing you, I ran off and eventually found myself at a small park. It took some minutes to come to grips with what I saw, but finally I was able to think rationally.”

Lois gave a sad shake of her head. “Actually, how you survived three bullets fired at close range came fairly quickly. The one fact that never seemed important in all the replays of that terrible night which haunted my nightmares was that there was never any blood. The shots were fired, you clutched at your chest as you slowly slumped to the ground, and lay there until Capone’s thugs dragged you away. It never dawned on me that your crisp, white shirt hadn’t been stained by blood pouring through those three critical wounds.”

A slight smile touched Lois’s lips. “Thinking back on our time together — all three of us — it was painfully obvious. It made perfect sense. It explained so much. Mostly, it explained how I could have fallen in love with two different people at the same time: because I hadn’t. There was always only one man.”

A tear slid from the corner of one eye. “I guess the only thing I can’t come to grips with is how could the most kind and caring man I’ve even known been so cruel. Can you tell me, Clark? Was your secret so precious that you could put someone you once professed to love through such pain and devastation? Can you?”

Clark stared at the floor for several moments before raising his eyes to meet hers. She was able to read sadness in his eyes, but not any guilt.

“I do apologize for the pain I put you through. If I thought there was a way to spare you that, I would have.”

“Really? It seems sort of simple to me. If I’d known that you weren’t dead, I doubt I would have spent so many sleepless nights crying into my pillow. Or probably I’d have had fewer nightmares about causing the death of my partner and best friend.”

“Lois, you are intelligent enough to know that what happened at that club was not your fault. All blame lies squarely with those gangsters.”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally back then.”

Clark sighed. “Again, I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I won’t apologize for what I did.”

Lois was astounded by what she’d just heard. “What! Are you telling me that your secret was so important that my feelings didn’t matter? Are you saying that my pain and suffering was an irrelevant little detail in the keeping of your precious secret?” Lois felt the sting of an unshed tear in the back of her eye. “I thought you cared about me.”

Clark clenched his fists. “I did, and I do care about you, Lois. In a sense, what I did was for you.”

Lois snorted. “You’re going to have to explain that one, buster.”

Clark nodded. “Fine. I loved you, Lois, I have always loved you and I will always love you. I would die for you… and I did. For all that this body wasn’t killed by Clyde Barrow’s bullets, the outcome was still the same. To the world, Clark Kent was dead.”

“But he’s not! He’s sitting right here in my living room.”

Clark shook his head. “No, he’s not. The only one who survived that night was Superman. My life as Clark Kent, a life I had dreamed of for so long, was over. I could no longer go to ball games with Jimmy, or argue with Perry over some story detail. But mostly, my ability to just be with you, working by your side, sharing your moods, just enjoying how your incredible mind worked, that was all gone.”

Clark stood up and moved around to the back of the chair. He placed his hands on the chair back and recaptured Lois’s gaze. “The only way for Clark Kent to survive was to admit that he was Superman. If that information became public, everyone I ever knew or loved would become targets for every criminal and nutcase who wanted revenge against me. I couldn’t allow that. Better everyone thought that Clark Kent died in that illegal speakeasy that night.”

Lois chewed on her bottom lip. “Your parents didn’t have to deal with your death. I imagine you still see them.”

Clark shook his head. “Obviously my parents, knowing of my gifts, didn’t have the anxiety of thinking I’d been killed, but they did have to deal with my death. They had to go through the expense and the difficulties of arranging for my funeral, and deal with all the well-meaning concern from their friends and neighbors.”

“I was there.”

“I know, and it hurt me to see you and Perry and Jimmy distressed by it.”

“So, do you stay away from your parents too?”

Clark shook his head. “Not entirely. Because they live out in the middle of farm country and their closest neighbor is miles away, I am able to visit them occasionally. But I still have to be very careful. I come after dark so no one will accidently see me. I have to scan the house and surrounding buildings and fields to make sure no one is visiting before I can come home. And I don’t see them as much as I used to just because I don’t want to risk someone discovering me there.”

Lois sighed and flopped back into the deep cushions of her comfy couch. Comfortable furniture was something she’d learned from Clark. “So, would it have been so bad to spare me the pain and reveal your secret? I’m sure we could have worked out some way to still see each other.”

“Could we?” Clark shook his head. “I don’t think so. Metropolis isn’t exactly the middle of Kansas, and whatever our relationship was, it wouldn’t have been fair to let you think that we would have been able to continue it.” He came back around and sat down again. “People lose friends and family; it’s a part of life. It only seemed right to let you and my other friends in Metropolis go through the normal grieving process, then get on with your lives. Especially you, Lois, you deserved to be happy. You deserved to find the right man, or the right situation, that would make you happy.”

Lois stared at Clark for a long time. The earnestness in his face was unshakable. It was clear to Lois that he hadn’t liked what he’d had to do, but he was convinced that he’d done the right thing, possibly the only logical thing, for the safety of his friends and family. Still, she couldn’t quite make herself agree. Not remembering what she’d gone through five years ago. But she could, intellectually, see his point of view.

She still felt the slight tug from her heart as she looked at her former partner… and… what?

“So, Jerome Clark, were do we go from here?”

***

Clark found himself staring at Lois for a long time before answering. A part of him wanted badly to say that they could be close friends again. That maybe there was a chance to start over, but he knew that was impossible now. It had been five years and Lois had a new life. A new life that didn’t include him.

Clark shrugged. “Tell me, Lois, are you happy? I know you have a good job at the Times, and that you’ve regained your reputation as the best. I can tell by the way you’re dressed that when you chanced by the bookstore you were clearly on your way to meet someone. What’s his name?”

Lois blushed. “Peter Lochton, and we’ve been dating for a while now.”

Clark smiled. “Is it serious?”

“I was on my way to meet him for dinner tonight. I’m pretty sure he was going to ask me to marry him.”

Clark’s smile faltered for a micro-second. He held it in place. “And your answer?”

Lois avoided his eyes at first, but finally met his gaze. “My intention was to say yes. But that was before I saw you.”

“Why would seeing Jerome Clark at a book signing change anything?”

Lois’s arms flailed about a bit in frustration. “Because… because you’re Clark, and you’re alive.”

Clark shook his head. “No, Clark is still dead. Jerome Clark is just an identity I use to earn some money for the basics. I’m mainly just Superman now.” His heart ached as he formed his next words but he knew he meant them. “Lois, you have a wonderful job. and I’m betting you’ve met a wonderful guy. You put a painful past behind you and have a life you’ve always deserved. You moved on, and nothing has changed because of what you learned tonight.”

Lois nodded slowly. “You’re right. My life is on a good path right now and I’d have to be an idiot to throw all that away.” She smiled at Clark. “I am very glad to find out that you aren’t dead even if your Clark Kent identity is gone.” She blushed again. “Would it be okay to write you once in a while? I’d like to keep in touch. Would you still be a… friend?”

Clark smiled back. “I’d like that very much, Lois.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn business card. “I have a small cabin in the mountains, but there are no amenities there. I can be reached through my publisher, and here is my e-mail.” He scribbled it onto the back of his card. “That’s how my folks contact me.”

She took the card and smiled again. “Thanks.”

Clark walked over and hugged her, then stepped back and placed his hand on her cheek. “Be happy, Lois. You deserve it.”

Clark turned and quickly left her apartment. As he moved down the hallway he heard Lois whisper, “Be happy, Clark, you deserve it too.”

EPILOGUE:

It had been three months since Lois had seen Clark. It had been three weeks since Lois had returned her engagement ring to Peter. It had been three days since she’d handed in her resignation at the Los Angeles Times and given up her apartment. Her furniture was in storage; she’d decide what to do with it later.

She stood outside of a rustic little cabin high in the Rockies outside of Pocatello, Idaho. It was quite off the beaten path. Lois had a few moments when she wasn’t sure her Jeep would make the trip up here. She turned and took in a 360-degree vista of her surroundings. It really was beautiful here, and she could understand why Clark would love it so. It was so peaceful.

She stepped up onto the small covered porch and grasped the handle on the front door. Of course it wasn’t locked. It was Clark, after all. She stepped inside. A smile came to her face. It was quaint but cozy, and it was definitely Clark. A large stone fireplace dominated the main room. An overstuffed chair and a cushy loveseat faced the hearth.

A quick survey of the rest of the cabin held no surprises. A small, serviceable kitchen off to one side contained a propane-powered stove, an old-fashioned icebox, and a small set of cupboards. A small square table with two chairs sat under a window looking out over a pond. There was no electricity, nor was there a phone line.

Behind the fireplace was little more than a large alcove which served as the bedroom. The fireplace had a hearth on the bedroom side also, only it was a bit smaller in width. A full-sized bed and a freestanding wardrobe dominated the tiny space. She went over and sat on the bed. It was very comfortable and she was very tired. The bed called to her, but she would have to wait a bit for that.

She went back into the main room and sat on the loveseat letting her mind replay all the events of the last few months which had led her here… now.

Seeing Clark again had been both terrible and wonderful all at the same time. While a part of her was glad that Clark hadn’t actually died from Clyde’s bullets five years ago, another part of her cursed his cowardice for not confiding in her and subsequently planting a landmine into her new life.

When they’d said their goodbyes a few months ago, Lois had every intention of continuing as she had the last few years. After all, that’s what she’d always wanted… wasn’t it? She’d accepted Peter’s marriage proposal and had acted the part of a blushing bride to-be. But something just wasn’t right.

It was something Clark had said. He’d told her that all he wanted was for her to be happy.

Over the last few years she’d thought she’d been happy, but it took seeing Clark again to make her realize that she really wasn’t. She tried to embrace the direction her life was taking but it kept coming back to what she was missing, not what she had. She began to feel like she was settling. Finally, she made her decision. She was getting older and she had missed out on her chance for true happiness once before; she wasn’t going to blow it this time.

You could call it fate, or serendipity, or whatever you want, but she had been given a second chance at a life with the one man she truly ever loved and she couldn’t pass it up. Once the decision was made, Lois Lane the investigator came back to the fore.

Calling Clark’s publisher, and using the fact that she was a reporter, Lois was able to get an itinerary of when Clark would be back in the States and where he was expected to be. She remembered him mentioning a cabin in the mountains, but the best she could get from the publisher was Clark’s mailing address, a post office box. So she cheated. She called Martha.

Now she was at Clark’s little hideaway, and she would wait patiently until he showed up. Not knowing exactly when Clark might appear she came prepared with plenty of groceries, most of which didn’t require much preparation. She filled up the small cupboard space and the small icebox.

She found a glass and grabbed a few ice cubes she’d brought and poured herself a cream soda, then went back into the main room. There was plenty of firewood already cut for use, so she started a fire and sat back in the large overstuffed chair.

Lois must have dozed off at some point, which wasn’t surprising given how she’d run herself ragged over the last couple of days. The fire had died down significantly, only a reddish glow from the embers remained. Suddenly she was aware of some noise out on the front porch. She jumped up and faced the door. Anticipation burned through her like a wildfire.

The door opened, and in stepped…

“Clark!”

He had a stunned look on his face. “Lois?”

She ran over to her man and threw her arms around his neck. She quickly kissed him, then smiled up at him. “Welcome home.”

THE END

T.O.G.O.M. for 2011

By Tank Wilson <tankw1@aol.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: December, 2011

Summary: Clark is at it again (or Tank is). This time Clark stays dead for quite a while and has to get pretty creative to make his way back to the land of the living. How long is too long for Lois to forgive?

***

Perry White, Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet, the foremost newspaper in the free world, was frustrated. He had a hot tip and no one to give it to. He stormed around the bullpen glaring at every reporter he passed. They could read his mood, and each in turn shrank away from his scrutiny. So caught up in his own concerns was White that he didn’t notice the man in the shiny blue suit until he almost ran into him.

“Superman!” White stepped back. “Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Superman clapped the chief on the shoulder. “That’s okay. No harm done.”

Perry glanced around and then back to Superman. “So, not that it’s not good to see you, but what are you doing here? Can I help you with something?”

Superman shook his head. “I was just looking for Ms. Lane. I thought she might want the story of my latest rescue.”

“That would be great, but that’s part of my problem this morning. Lois isn’t here.” Perry frowned. “And with Kent gone I’m really short on experienced reporters right now.”

It was Superman’s turn to frown. “She’s not here? Do you know where she is?”

Perry shook his head sadly. “No, no I don’t.” He sighed. “Clark’s death hit her pretty hard, you know. Probably a lot harder than she even thought it would. After she and you were able to stop those rehydrated gangsters, she asked for some time off. I could see she was tore up pretty badly, so I told her to take all the time she needed. That was two weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t she usually throw herself into her work when she’s upset?”

Perry shook his head. “She’s not upset. She’s hurt; she’s hurting real bad. That girl was always like a daughter to me, yet the men in her life have always treated her badly. You only saw the vibrant and determined reporter. That was the face she would show the public. But somehow Kent was able to reach the scared, vulnerable little girl hidden behind the walls of protection she’d built around herself.” White leaned against Lois’ desk. “I had high hopes for those two. I really thought they might have a chance to make it…together.”

Superman just nodded.

“You know, Superman, it’s kind of ironic. After being dead for so many years, those hoodlums get a second chance only to revert to form and kill the most decent man I’ve ever known. Now that they’ve been caught and put behind bars, they are all facing death once again.”

Superman seemed perplexed. “I don’t understand. New Troy doesn’t have the death penalty.”

Perry shrugged. “Apparently, there was something not quite right in the reanimation process. All the clones, or whatever they were, are dying. Capone has died already.”

“Does Lois know?”

Perry shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since she left. Tell you the truth, Superman, I worry about that girl.”

Perry White turned and slowly walked back toward his office. After several steps, he stopped and turned back to the superhero.

“If you do happen to see her, would you tell her to call me? I need to know she’s all right.”

***

Lois Lane checked herself in the smudged and dirty mirror in the tiny restroom of the New Troy State Prison. The guard’s uniform that she was able to secure didn’t fit too well, but it would pass a casual inspection. It had cost her five hundred bucks, but it was vital to her plan.

Also vital had been the new, short haircut and the heavy-framed glasses that she wore. She had been to this facility too many times in the past interviewing prisoners and officials to count on someone not recognizing her. She had gotten the uniform from one of the guards that she’d gotten to know over the past couple of years.

At first the woman had been very hesitant to allow Lois to use one of her uniforms for a Lois Lane scheme that she didn’t want to know. As Lois upped the “rental fee” the woman’s resistance lessened until Lois had finally found her price.

One last finger combing of her new do, a big breath, and she was ready.

Lois slipped out into the hallway and made a beeline toward the infirmary. That was where Clyde Barrow was currently being held. She knew that both Capone and Dillinger had already died. Something had been off in their cloning process, and the reanimated gangsters’ bodies were breaking down. Clyde had begun to show signs of the problem and had been placed in the medical facility of the prison. She figured it wouldn’t be long before Bonnie began to show the signs of her own imminent death.

Lois thanked whatever fates watched over undercover reporters that no one questioned her right to be walking the hallways of the prison. She rounded a third corner and finally found herself outside the infirmary door. She could see through the glass in the door that several people were in there hovering around one of the beds. She couldn’t see the occupant, but it could only be Clyde Barrow. After all, there was a priest present in the group.

Lois eased the door open, watching the backs of the people in the room as she did so. No one turned as she entered. Carefully she moved toward the other side of the room and stepped behind a curtain.

She could hear the priest trying to administer final rites to the reborn gangster, but Clyde wouldn’t have it. He cursed the priest and all the rest of the prison staff that were there. He continually shouted for everyone to just leave him alone. Finally they gave up and granted him his wish. If the criminal wanted to die alone, then they would let him.

Of course, Lois had no intention of letting that happen.

She watched as the small group filed out of the room. The last guard turned off the light and closed the door.

She waited a couple of minutes to make sure they’d all gone. Then she glided over and locked the door. She moved quietly over toward the bed the held Clyde.

“Who is it? Who’s there?” His voice was still a bit hoarse from his earlier yelling.

“You probably don’t remember me, Clyde, but we’ve met before.” Lois reached over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. It threw out a small, dim pool of yellow light.

He turned his head toward her. “I don’t know you. I never saw you before in my life.”

Lois’ dry chuckle held no measure of amusement. “Which life would that be? You probably weren’t paying attention to me while you murdered in cold blood the most decent man I’ve ever known.”

She could see his mind working as he stared intently at her. She pulled off the heavy rimmed glasses. “Is it coming back to you?”

He snorted. “You’re that dame in the red dress that Dillinger was after. You do something to your hair?”

“Yeah, something.”

He turned his head. “Leave me alone. I’ll call for the guard.”

Lois grabbed Clyde’s chin and pulled his head back toward her. “Don’t turn away from me, you piece of dirt. I’m not done with you.” She plucked at the uniform shirt she was wearing. “And if you hadn’t noticed, for the moment, I’m your guard.”

He frowned at her. “So, what is it you want from me? Can’t you see I’m dying?” He snorted. “Is that it? Are you here to gloat because I’m dying?”

Lois shook her head. “Gloat? Not really, but I am here to watch you die. I’m going to get a great deal of satisfaction watching you take your last breath and know that not a single person on this earth is going to care.”

“Bonnie will care.”

Lois’ laugh was harsh and held no measure of mirth. “Do you really think so? This is the second time that hooking up with you has lead to her death. I don’t think you’re in the forefront of her fondest memories right now. Besides, she’s probably too concerned about her own impending demise to give any thought to a scumbag like you.”

“If you’re so bent on revenge for your boyfriend, why don’t you just kill me?”

The corner of Lois’ mouth curved up slightly in a wolf-like smile. “Believe me, the thought had crossed my mind, but then that would put me on the same level as scum like you.” She patted his cheek. “And the fact is… I don’t have to.”

Lois leaned back in the chair she had pulled up and stared hard at Barrow. She could see sweat beginning to bead up on his forehead. “Did you know that before the end most of the muscles in your body will constrict and cramp in a most painful manner? This won’t be the easy death of a bullet-riddled body. No, you’ll finish your miserable life crying like a baby.”

She saw fear in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” His voice no longer held the belligerence it had earlier.

Her eyes turned cold. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. In one miserable second, my life was irrevocably changed. In that one hot-headed moment a lowlife gangster, who shouldn’t have even been alive, altered my life forever.”

He tried to turn his head to the side again, but Lois slapped it back toward her.

“Clark Kent was my friend, my best friend and my partner. He was the most caring and compassionate man that I’d ever met. Probably the most decent man I’ll ever meet. I may not have always been the best partner or the best friend to him, but he was always there for me. Even in the beginning when I didn’t want a partner he stayed true to the kind of person he was and accepted me for who I was. The saddest part of this whole mess is not that I’m going to miss him for the rest of my life. The saddest part is that, even though I know deep down he loved me, I now realize that I love him too… and I never told him.”

Clyde tried to look fierce but couldn’t break Lois’ knife-like stare. “So, what is this going to do? Tormenting me is not going to bring your partner back.”

“No, it won’t. But maybe I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing that Clark’s killer received the justice he deserved.”

“So what do we do now?”

Lois shifted on her chair, trying to get more comfortable. She folded her hands in her lap.

“We wait.”

***

Lois walked out of the prison using the employee door and moved quickly toward her Jeep. Clyde had tried to man up and die without uttering a sound. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, but in the end he did wind up crying and cursing her. She got out just before a shift change brought a new guard to check up on the prisoner. By now they would be making the arrangements to bury the infamous Clyde Barrow… again.

She felt hollow inside now that her carefully orchestrated plan had come to an end. She didn’t mourn Clyde’s passing, nor did she regret being there when he died. But she didn’t get the closure she wanted and she didn’t really get any satisfaction out of his passing. Clark was still dead, and despite what she told Barrow, she doubted she’d be able to get any decent sleep for a long time to come. The same nightmare visited her night after night.

Lois sighed as she started up her Jeep and then pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway adjacent to the prison. The criminals had all been caught, and Clark’s killer had his sentence carried out by fate. The whole sordid mess was finally over. What was she supposed to do now?

***

Lois closed the outer door to her apartment and knew immediately she wasn’t alone. Someone was in her apartment; she could feel it. Without turning on the light she turned and gazed into the darkness of her living room. A tall figure was silhouetted by the dim light that came through her window. Metropolis was a big city, and it was never completely dark. The outside street lamps provided pools of lighter gray even through her drapes.

She knew immediately who it was who stood in the middle of her living room. She didn’t know too many people who wore a cape. Not in this century anyway.

“Superman, what are you doing here?” And how did you get in? was the unvoiced part of the question.

He moved toward her as she flipped on the overhead fixture. She didn’t look at him as she moved toward the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Pulling out a cream soda, she pulled out a chair and sat down at her dining table. She raised her brow, still waiting for his answer to her question.

He seemed like he was confused. He stood there silently, staring at her. It took her a moment to understand his hesitation. A wry smile crossed her lips.

“I got it cut.” She leaned back and took a sip of her drink.

“Ah, it looks… nice.”

Lois rolled her eyes and shook her head. “So?”

It was like he suddenly came out of a fog. His attention snapped back into focus. “Perry is really worried about you, and he asked me to tell you to get in touch with him if I saw you.”

Lois shrugged. “So, you saw me, though it seems more like you came looking for me rather than happening to come across me.”

“I was worried about you too.”

“I’ll be fine… eventually.”

“Will you?”

“What choice do I have?” Lois stood and moved toward her bedroom. “Well, if you see Perry before I do, you can tell him that I’ll be back to work in a couple of days.” She turned and gave the Man of Steel a sad smile. “Thanks for dropping by, but I’m kind of tired, and I think I’ll go to bed early.”

Superman seemed hesitant, unwilling to just leave. “Lois, do you know that the cloned gangsters are dying? There was something wrong with the process, and their bodies are breaking down.”

Lois nodded. “I know. In fact I’m pretty sure only Bonnie is still alive.”

A frown wrinkled his brow. “Can I ask you where you were today?”

She shrugged. “You could ask.”

“But you won’t answer.”

She shook her head. “No.” She leaned against the door jam. “I’m going to bed now. Tell Perry not to worry. Goodnight.”

Lois turned and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her as she went. She didn’t even wait to see him go. She figured he’d leave the way he came in.

***

(Six Months Later)

Clark dropped from the sky to land behind the barn of the Kent farm. He quickly spun into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. He scanned the fields, the out buildings, and then finally the house. There was no one here other than his mother. He had to be careful. Clark Kent couldn’t be seen visiting his parents anymore. After all, he was supposed to be dead.

It was annoying and quite an inconvenience to have to be so careful when he came to see his parents, but at least they were isolated enough so he could still spend significant time with them. That wasn’t the case back in Metropolis. He had to be in the suit nearly all of the time there.

He moved at super speed, just as an added precaution, until he was on the front porch. He let himself in and soon was confronted with the smiling face of his mother.

“Clark!” She rushed over to give him a hug. “It’s good to see you. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

Clark returned his mother’s hug. “Well, things seemed to be quiet, so I took advantage of the situation and came out early.”

“I’m glad. Your father went into town to pick up some more groceries. He should be back soon.” She lead him back to the kitchen table, where he took a chair while his mother went over to the cookie jar and put several cookies on a plate. She brought the plate over and set it in front of Clark. She sat in the chair next to him. “So how are things?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I’ve been able to help a lot more people, and I’ve even moved up and down the coast a bit. I’m sure you saw the coverage of the hurricane down in Florida.”

She nodded. “Yes, I did. You got some nice coverage during the relief and clean up efforts.”

“Yeah, so I guess you could say that Superman is doing okay.”

She reached over and grabbed his hand. “But…”

Clark just shook his head. He knew he couldn’t keep anything from his mother. “I miss her.”

She patted his hand. “I know you do honey, it’s only natural.” She paused for a moment. “So, how is Lois doing?”

Clark shrugged again. “She seems to be doing all right. As expected, once she went back to the Planet she really threw herself back into her work. She’s cracked several major stories. She even crippled Intergang when she tied them to CostMart and exposed Bill Church as the head of the fledgling organization. They thought Metropolis would be easy pickings with Luthor out of the way, but they didn’t figure on Mad Dog Lane.”

Clark leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m worried about her, though. She seems even more reckless than before. I find myself rescuing her from trouble more than ever. It’s like she doesn’t care about her own safety.”

Martha Kent nodded. “Mmm, that’s not good, but at least you get to see her more that way.”

“Mom!”

“Well, you do, don’t you?”

Clark frowned. “I do and I don’t. I think that when Clark was shot by Clyde Barrow and Lois finally realized that her feelings toward her partner were a little deeper than just friendship, her attitude toward Superman changed also.”

“What do you mean, Sweetie?”

“I think she also realized that her attraction for Superman wasn’t grounded in reality. She came to the logical conclusion that Superman was not someone she could… love.” He ran his head through his hair. “She’s thankful when I rescue her and cordial when we meet, but our dealings are much more formal and… professional. She did date some Fed named Scardino for a short time, but it didn’t last. He wasn’t good enough for her, anyway.”

“That’s got to be rough, honey, but isn’t that really for the best? Isn’t that kind of what you always wanted? To distance her from Superman for her own safety?”

Clark fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah, sure, of course. But that was when I could be with her as Clark. Now that I can’t, I really miss her. It drives me crazy sometimes. I’m not sure I can take it much longer. Maybe I should just leave Metropolis entirely.”

Martha gave his hand a squeeze. “I suppose that could be one solution, but do you think that would really make you happy?” Clark shrugged. His posture spoke of defeat. “You know, Clark, I’ve been thinking about your situation for a while now, and I think I might have an idea.”

***

Clark was more nervous than he could ever remember as he stood outside Lois’ apartment door. He raised his hand to knock, but held it. Was he really doing the right thing?

He wasn’t sure how he let his mother talk him into this. It had seemed like a reasonable solution to his problem of not being able to be with Lois at the time, but now it seemed… crazy.

He let his hand fall to his side and made ready to leave, but stopped when he heard a sound coming from down the hall. He glanced over and saw Lois turning the corner and coming up the hallway. She cocked her head and gave him a slight smile.

“Sorry I’m late, but I got hung up at work. Deadlines.” She pulled her key out of her pocket and opened the door. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ve just got to change out of my work clothes.”

Clark tried his best to calm his racing heartbeat. At least Lois hadn’t seemed to recognize him right away. He fingered the moustache and goatee he was wearing. Did they really make that much difference? He’d parted his hair differently also, but without glasses would she recognize him as Superman?

Lois stepped out of her bedroom dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red pullover top. She looked great. Clark couldn’t suppress the smile. Lois colored slightly and returned his smile. She sat down in the chair across from where he sat.

“So, you’re Clark’s cousin Joe. Martha called me and mentioned that you were coming to Metropolis. She asked me if I’d mind showing you around town a bit.”

“I hope you don’t mind, Ms. Lane. I don’t want to impose.”

Lois leaned back in her chair and waved off “Joe’s” apology. “No problem, it’s not like my time away from my job is in great demand. So, your father is Jonathan’s brother?”

“Yeah, Uncle Jon’s brother Joe. I’m actually a Joe Jr., but I don’t go by that since my father’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. He died in Viet Nam. I’ve spent most of my life after college bumming my way around the world.”

Lois grinned. “Sounds familiar. You do look a lot like Clark, which is unusual since I know Clark was adopted.”

Clark wondered if his discomfort showed. He gave her a weak smile. “Yeah, people used to say that. I didn’t really see it. Clark was taller and more athletic than I am.”

Lois eyed him carefully. “I don’t know. Maybe. Still, I’m surprised Clark never mentioned you.”

He shrugged. “I was never around much. We lived in Seattle. My mother died shortly after I finished college. I don’t think I visited Smallville more than twice in my life. I only made contact recently because I heard about Clark.” He gave Lois a look of compassion. “I heard you and Clark were … close?”

Lois’ face took on a faraway look. “Yeah, we were. We were work partners and best friends.” She captured his attention with a direct stare. “Did you know that Clark was in love with me?”

Clark was taken aback by Lois’ bald statement, but composed himself as quickly as possible. “Ah, no, Aunt Martha never mentioned that.”

Lois let her hand trace the belting along the back of the chair. “The truly sad thing is I was in love with him too, but I never told him.”

Clark was stunned. “M-may I ask… why?”

Her smile was sad. “Like too many things in my life, I didn’t know my own feelings until it was too late.” There were several uncomfortable moments that went by. “But enough of past mistakes. One must look ahead, right?”

“Ah, right.” Clark had all he could do to keep his focus. His head was spinning with all the revelations he’d been hearing.

“So, Martha didn’t say, but why after all this time have you decided to visit Metropolis?”

“Well, after visiting with Aunt Martha and Uncle Jon, I realized I had sort of lost my wanderlust and was looking for a place to make a new start. They suggested I give Metropolis a try. Clark had seemed to like it a lot.”

Lois smiled. “And here you are. So what, are you hungry? I could order us in some take out. I have several good places on my speed dial.”

Clark shook his head. “I appreciate your meeting me, Ms. Lane, but I can see that you’re tired, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Perhaps another day?”

They both stood, and Lois escorted him to the door. “You’re right, I am beat. It was a full day.” She stopped at the door. “Tomorrow is my day off. Why don’t you come by about ten o’clock and we can make a day of it. I’ll show you all the real sights of Metropolis as only a native can.”

“That would be great.”

She opened the door and he stepped into the hall. “Oh, and Joe?” He turned to look at her. “My name is Lois.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, Lois.”

Clark watched until the door closed gently behind him. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

***

Lois leaned against the door as she listened to the retreating footsteps. A sigh escaped from her lips as they curved into a shy smile.

She rushed over to the phone and dialed.

“Hello, Martha — Lois. Yeah, he just left. It was so cute watching him squirm. Not sure I’m too wild about the facial hair, but I guess I can get used to it. No, I’m sure he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Lois sat down in a kitchen chair near the phone, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “I know this was mostly my idea when I called you a few weeks back after putting it all together. But do you really think this will work?”

Lois listened to the older woman on the other end of the line. “I admit that I was really hurt when I called you. I just couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t have told me the truth. After talking it over with you I grudgingly saw some of what he tried to do, and accepted some of his reasoning. But only some.”

She got up from the chair and paced. “For crying out loud, I actually went out on several dates with that tool, Scardino, and it still didn’t make Clark jealous enough to talk to me. I don’t know how many times I had to put myself in need of rescue and he still just held onto that stoic Superman persona. I was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t care.”

Lois sat back down in the chair. “Okay, I believe you. He did miss me, and I can’t begin to tell you how much I missed him.”

She listened intently for several moments. “You’re right, Martha, this will work out because it has to. But be warned, I don’t think I can be expected to stay too patient with this. I’m not going to wait around for another year and a half for him to come clean with me.”

A determined Lois stared at her phone. “I don’t care if he calls himself Joe, Clark, or Superman, he’d better realize that he is mine and I don’t intend to allow that misplaced sense of nobility of his to keep us apart any longer.”

Lois listened to Martha’s response and smiled. She really loved that woman. “You too, Martha. Have a good night. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

Lois hung up the phone and started to move toward her bedroom. She might as well get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

fin

THE END

Super Polish

By Mouserocks <mouserocksnerd@gmail.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: April 2012

Summary: Even Superman can’t keep up on everything, especially not his 4-year-old daughter.

***

Clark stirred slightly in his sleep at the feel of his facial muscles twitching. He groggily waved his hand over his face without opening his eyes, thinking maybe it was a fly and he could just go back to sleep. But then, there it was again. Instead of a buzzing sound though, there was the sound of light giggling.

Clark frowned, and the giggling persisted.

Sighing in defeat, he opened his eyes to come face to face with his four-year-old daughter, hovering over him. She had on several strings of beads around her neck and numerous bracelets. A pink tiara sat on her light brown hair, matching the pink tutu, and her face was practically painted with gobs of lipstick, glitter and eye shadow. Clark moved to sit up on the couch, glancing at her suspiciously. She was wearing an all-too-pleased smile on her face.

“Hi Daddy,” she spoke cheerily, rocking anxiously on the balls of her feet.

“Hi,” he responded in a forced casual tone, frowning in the slightest. Her grin remained in place. “Watcha doing, sweetheart?”

“Notice anything different?” She was beaming now with pride.

Clark felt himself relax a bit. “You look even more like a princess with that crown and all of that makeup on?”

She started to laugh, unable to control herself any longer. She bolted out of the room as fast as she could, and Clark once again found himself frowning. He called after her in confusion. “Ella?”

Help! Superman!

Clark sighed and quickly spun into his Superman suit, giving a cursory glance at the mirror to make sure everything was alright. Ever since he and Lois had kids, he’d had to be extra careful that he didn’t run out with some sort of food, vomit, or other extraneous items caked on him. And lucky he did, too.

At the sight of his face, Clark jumped back and groaned. “Hey! Ella!” Squeals replied, echoing in the distance of the house. Clark scowled as the cries for help became even more insistent. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered. Facing the sink, he super speedily washed away the garish makeup — more like face paint — before shouting to Lois that he’d be back and taking off across town.

***

Luckily, Clark had managed to get to the scene on time and successfully pulled the family’s car back to safety before they wound up falling off the edge of the bridge. They were all pretty shaken up, but sustained no major injuries. It could have been a lot worse, for sure, if they had tried to get out or move around. Paramedics were able to help them on site, and Clark finally felt able to let out a sigh of relief before turning away from the action to face the crowds.

An LNN reporter rushed up to him first, cameraman close in tow. “Superman! Superman! Do you have any statement to make about what happened here today?”

“The family will be all right. Bumps and bruises, for the most part. A couple of minor fractures and possibly some future trauma wounds, but little else. As far as I could tell, it was purely an accident- there didn’t seem to be any alcohol or drugs involved, and…” Clark could see he was losing their interest, and cleared his throat pointedly and crossed his arms before wrapping it up. “And they’re lucky they aren’t any worse off.”

She nodded curtly and cut in. “Superman, are you wearing nail polish?”

Clark felt his eyes widen and he looked down at his hands. Every other finger rotated colors — alternating between a thick, sloppy coat of purple glitter and a sparkly, shimmery pink. He felt himself going red and struggled to hide his hands self-consciously. “Um,” he stalled. The reporter was staring at him incredulously, mouth agape. “Uh, yes. It would appear that I am.”

He made no further explanation. She pressed him for more. “Is there a… particular reason why?”

Clark was between a rock and a hard place here. On the one hand, he could run. Nobody would catch him. But it would leave the media making as many guesses about Superman as they wanted, each assumption more ridiculous- or closer to home- than the last. But on the other hand, what could he say to defend himself? He suddenly realized he had been quiet for just about a whole minute, unresponsive. He had to say something…

“Um… it was my… it must have happened,” he struggled to find the right words, feeling himself growing more and more flushed exponentially by the second. “I was… um, I was watching some kids… the girl must have… when I fell asleep… um,” he noticed worriedly that their expressions only grew more and more shocked as he spoke and promptly shut up. He stirred nervously, wishing for an emergency, to no avail. Besides, he couldn’t run now. He’d just make things worse. The rumor mill would be ruthlessly out of hand.

“You were… babysitting?”

He cringed. “Uh, no. Not exactly. It, uh,” he was racking his brain for an explanation, when finally he thought he struck gold. His expression practically lit up. “It was some extended family. You know, from New Krypton? They were around — visiting — and uh…”

“You fell asleep while you were supposed to be watching them,” the reporter concluded for him, incredulous.

He folded his arms back across his chest once more, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. “The gist of it, I suppose.”

The reporter bit her lip, before finally bursting out with uncontrollable laughter.

Clark scowled at her. “I think it’s time for me to go now.”

“Wait! Superman! One last question.” He turned back, exasperated, waiting for her to finish. She grinned. “Do your toes match?”

He shot her an irritated glare before lifting to the skies, her laughter chasing him home.

***

Clark flew back through the window of his home with a scowl on his face- only to be greeted by the sound of more laughter. He rolled his eyes at his wife, keeled over on the floor — crying, she laughed so hard. Clark spun into his civilian clothes. “Good to be home,” he remarked dryly as he switched off the news report.

“I can’t believe it,” Lois managed to speak breathily, struggling to regain her control. “I mean, the signs have been there all along.”

Clark helped his wife to her feet as she brushed her face dry. He sighed. “What signs?”

“Well, all those wild ties, the spandex — now makeup and nail polish!”

He rolled his eyes at her once more. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I mean, if I didn’t know what you were capable of in the bedroom, I’d be having my doubts about Superman right about now.” She started laughing again, and to stop her, Clark pressed a firm kiss to her lips. When they broke apart, Lois still grinned.

“Hey,” Clark began mischievously. “I bet you’ve never made out with a guy with a manicure before.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’d be surprised.”

Clark laughed for a bit before he realized she was being serious. “You’re kidding me. Who?”

Lois shrugged. “Hey, Lex liked to keep himself looking preened. And Claude was always a well-manicured man. I’m not without my suspicions there.” Clark chuckled lightly, shaking his head. Lois bit her bottom lip seductively. “But, if you’d like, once the kids are in bed, you could spend the entire evening proving to me just how… super-manly you are.”

She moaned and Clark pulled her close to him. He tried to kiss her lips, but she turned her head coyly and got her cheek instead. “Minx,” he murmured and kissed her earlobe, nibbling lightly. She let out a soft little sigh.

“Daddy!”

A small wail started up at the sudden yell. Clark sighed and released his wife who went to tend to their smallest. Ella came bursting into the room, a plethora of makeover supplies in her arms. She dumped it all on to the coffee table, making even more of a din. She perused her choices for a moment or two before selecting a bright red and sparkly blue bottle of nail polish and showing one in each hand. Clark regarded the tiny bottles with no small amount of trepidation.

Ella grinned. “Time for your toes!”

THE END

Specimen S

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: December 2012

Summary: What if Jonathan and Martha Kent were not the ones to find the infant Kal-El? Just how much of life is chance? And how much is fate?

Disclaimer: I neither own nor make anything. All recognizable Lois and Clark characters, lines of dialogue, and plot points belong to DC comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. I’m just playing with my toys again. I promise to put them all back in the box when I am done.

Special Thanks: Go out to my awesome beta-reader, AntiKryptonite. As always, you were patient with my writing and provided great insight with your comments. Your sharp eye really helped to clean this story up. My heartfelt thanks to you. It has been my pleasure to work with you again. Thanks also to KenJ and VirginiaR, for their help in ensuring the accuracy of Cameron’s vehicle and for pointing out the rarity of car seats in the 60’s.

Author’s Note: Just a couple of mild swear words. Nothing too horrible though.

***

May 17, 1966

“Is this the place?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course I’m certain. How dare you question me? Have you learned nothing during our time together?”

“It’s just that…this place doesn’t look any different from the rest of this backwoods country, that’s all.”

“Believe me, I know exactly where we need to be.”

“And you are certain that the event is to be tonight?”

“Positive. You know, Cameron, I wouldn’t have come to you if I’d known how galactically stupid you are. Now, shut up would you?”

“All right.”

“Good. Stop here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Now, watch and wait.”

The battered old military M38 jeep came to a grinding halt as the driver pulled it to the side of the road, shifted it to neutral, and pulled the hand brake. He opened his door and poked his head out into the cooling air of the darkening night, wishing, not for the first time, that the vehicle’s windows could roll down, instead of being fixed into place. It was the perfect mid-May evening. And, if the odd stranger sitting in the passenger seat was right, it was about to get even better. Cameron shot a discreet glance at the man from the corner of his eye. He still wasn’t completely sure what to make of him.

All he knew was that the man had first come to him several months ago, claiming to know about the future. Cameron hadn’t trusted the man at first, but, over the months, the stranger had accurately predicted everything, from the winners of the 1966 Super Bowl to what the newspaper headlines would be each day. So he’d been forced to believe in what the man had told him. Perhaps he really was from the future. And if he was…oh the possibilities.

If anything, Cameron hoped to God that Tempus wasn’t lying to him now.

He didn’t want to be taken for a fool. And he wanted the promised event to actually come to pass. He’d been waiting his whole life for a moment like this. He’d dedicated his life to proving the existence of alien life-forms. Now Tempus had promised him that one would be falling right into his very lap, if only he trusted the self-proclaimed time traveler. A hopeful flutter rose in Cameron’s heart.

His entire life, he’d endured the scoffing, the jeering coming from his peers. Cracked, they had called him, in their very kindest moments. Delusional. Insane. Certifiable. Mentally unstable. Unhinged. Cameron had heard it all, mostly behind his back, when the others thought him unable to hear their biting remarks, the laughter in their voices. Some had actually had the nerve to blatantly say these things to his face. He hadn’t known which was worse — the mocking voices no one thought he heard, or the vicious remarks made to his face.

But now…if Tempus was telling the truth…he would prove them all wrong. He would prove his theories right. Earth was not the only planet with life — intelligent, humanoid life. And that was enough to trust that the man sitting beside him was telling him the truth. It was enough to trust that Tempus didn’t plan on dragging him out into the middle of nowhere to kill him. Still, as the minutes ticked by, Cameron found himself growing ever more anxious.

“So…how much longer?” he finally asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Soon,” was all Tempus would say.

Despite himself, Cameron started to have his doubts. Perhaps Tempus wasn’t who he said he was. Perhaps he was just some guy, hired by his peers, sent to poke fun at Cameron’s beliefs. An extremely lucky man, who’d been somehow able to accurately foretell future events. Not only foretell them, but with one hundred percent, down to the minutest detail correctness.

Cameron frowned. No, he was fairly certain that Tempus was indeed the real deal. He had to be. Nothing else made any sense.

Still…

He had to wonder why Tempus had entrusted this information to him. He’d pressed the man for details, but the man from the future wouldn’t say much. Sketchy details were all that he had been willing to give up. And yet, it had somehow been enough for Cameron. Enough to make him practically salivate with the prospect of what was to come. Enough to make him crack his knuckles in eager anticipation.

Mentally, he ran through the small pile of information Tempus had been willing to offer up. The event that was to come would be assumed to be a meteorite crashing in the field he was now sitting outside of. But in actuality, it would be the ungraceful crash landing of a space ship. Nestled within the ship would be an infant boy, a child sent to Earth to escape the explosion that had torn his home world of Krypton apart. Kal-El, Tempus had called the child. The boy would possess all the parts of a human male, would appear no different than Cameron’s own son had, when he had been an infant. But the alien baby would grow to become the most powerful man on Earth, with a host of abilities at his disposal. Super strength, hearing, sight, speed. The power to defy gravity and fly. Invulnerability. Heat and x-ray vision. Super breath.

Cameron was sure he was forgetting the rest, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he get to the ship first, before anyone else could find the landing site. All that mattered was that he get his hands on that child, so that he could shape the boy into the image he wanted. And he had plans — big plans — for the infant alien who would be making his appearance shortly. He would mold and shape the boy until he grew into a man; a super soldier who did only Cameron’s bidding.

The ex-Sergeant-Major allowed himself a tight smile as he thought of having such a powerful being under his control, and his control only. When he did, he’d make the United States military pay for what they had done to him. He’d make them wish they’ve never doubted him. He’d make them rue the day they’d ousted him from their prestigious ranks. And then, he’d take his revenge on the bitch who’d caused all the trouble to begin with.

Cameron had always served — faithfully, willingly, honorably. He’d always been the model soldier. He’d never questioned his orders. He had never hesitated to do what was asked of him. He’d always been the first man to step forward when volunteers had been asked for. Then, out of the blue, he’d been accused by his ex-girlfriend of rape, a woman he hadn’t seen since their split up, seven years prior to the accusation. Though he hadn’t actually committed the heinous act, the court-martial had believed the woman. He’d been dishonorably discharged from the army, losing everything in the process — his dignity, his benefits, the only job he’d ever known. Only his wife had stuck by him; his “friends” had all turned their backs on him as soon as the accusation against him had been made.

But now, he’d found a new niche for himself. The cosmos had always held a certain fascination for him, and he’d always believed that Earth was not the only planet out there with intelligent life. So, he’d secretly studied the stars each night, after his wife and son were in bed. He’d waited patiently, night after night, staring up at the vast expanse of the galaxy that lay splayed out in the heavens above, looking for anything out of the ordinary, though he’d never had any luck.

Cameron’s fingers still drummed aimlessly, tunelessly on the steering wheel, while his head remained tilted toward the nearly cloudless night sky. His high hopes for the evening started to sink as the minutes ticked by. He cracked his knuckles, wincing at the popping sound they made, but enjoying the actual feeling. Then he stretched and yawned, all but ready to give up this fool’s errand.

A moment later, a flash of fire appeared in the endless, dark abyss of the sky, blotting out the expanse of stars in its brilliance. Cameron’s mouth gaped open, though he found himself unable to vocalize a single word. As he watched, the streak of light and fire came lower and lower, angling over the road where his vehicle lay, pulled off to one side. Over the field it went, until Cameron lost sight of it.

“That,” Tempus said, sitting next to him in the passenger seat, his voice rich with the sarcasm that never seemed to stray too far from his tongue, “was your pot of gold.”

In the next instant, Cameron was out the door of his car. Mustering all the speed he could, he raced to the open field on his left. He’d remained in top shape, even after his discharge from service, so it was without any difficultly that he vaulted over the wooden fence rails that ringed Shuster’s Field. He hit the ground and took off at a dead run, knowing that he had to be the first one to arrive on the scene. He didn’t know who else might have witnessed the event. But he wasn’t willing to risk being the second one on the scene.

Behind him, he could hear Tempus struggling to keep pace. But the time traveler had warned him not to wait for him. He’d warned him to keep moving and that, if worst came to worst, they would just meet up at the crash site. Still, judging from how close Tempus’ footfalls sounded, he was keeping a fairly good stride. Cameron didn’t care either way, so long as one of them reached that crash site first. Briefly, Cameron wondered how much farther they would have to go, and if they hadn’t lost their sense of direction. If this truly was a spacecraft, perhaps it was capable of banking to one side. Or pulling out of the free-fall it had been in.

Cameron shook his head. No, it wouldn’t be able to pull out of the fall. It had been moving way too fast. It had been on fire, for crying out loud!

But his worries vanished as he looked ahead. A long, deep furrow in the ground appeared before his eyes. Bits of turf and grass were smoldering in the wake of the heat, and small flickers of dying flames lit up the darkness. A surge of adrenaline rushed through Cameron’s body, propelling him even faster. He raced along the fresh scar in the soil, keeping it on his right-hand side as a guide. The earthy scent of the turned up dirt filled his nose, and the distant chirps and calls of crickets and frogs lay on the edges of his hearing.

Finally, just when Cameron thought the crevasse had no end, he skidded to a halt before a small, sleek capsule, nestled within a mound of disturbed soil. His heart hammered in his chest, not from the exertion of the run, but from sheer anticipation. For a moment, he just stood there, struck almost dumb from what he was seeing. From what he was finally seeing. All his hopes and dreams sat before him, encased in a shiny blue capsule, no bigger than the bassinet his own son had once slept in at night.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Tempus prompted him, jogging up to his side.

“It’s more than I could have dreamed,” Cameron breathed, awestruck.

“Yes, well, that may be so. But you need to wake up and get to work. We haven’t got all night.”

Cameron took in a shaky breath, then knelt before the space ship. Carefully, he reached over to it. His fingers caressed the smooth metal, oddly cool beneath his touch. It should have been scalding hot, he reasoned. The speed it had crashed at should have super-heated the metal. But the capsule was comfortable beneath his fingertips — not quite cold, but not all that warm either. It made Cameron very curious as to what kind of metal it had been shaped from, and what kind of technology it had on board to help regulate the temperature of the ship. But mostly, he was interested in the life-form held within.

Holding his breath, he slowly lifted the top of the capsule and peered inside. His breath came out in a rush as he gazed upon the infant within. Intelligent, soft, curious brown eyes looked back at him, blinking rapidly at the change in scenery. Gentle coos came from the child, and he reached toward Cameron. Mesmerized, the man reached out to the baby with one hand, and the tiny boy grabbed hold of his finger, his eyes never leaving Cameron’s face.

For his part, Cameron was stunned. Tempus had warned him that the infant alien would appear no different from a human child. Still, the former Sergeant-Major had harbored some lingering expectation of some glaring difference. Purple eyes, maybe. Or the hint of antennas, perhaps. A forked, lizard-like tongue, perchance. Or maybe, a slight greenish hue to his body. But there was absolutely nothing that gave away even the barest hint of the baby’s extraterrestrial origin. He looked exactly the same as Cameron’s own son had, when he’d been about two months old.

“Incredible,” Cameron whispered to himself. Then, to the child, he said, “Hello there, child. Welcome to Earth. Welcome to your destiny.”

The baby cooed again, perhaps soothed by the contact with someone — anyone — after his lonely travel through space. He smiled at Cameron.

“My boy, you are going to make me the most powerful man on Earth,” Cameron continued, in a sing-song voice.

The man gently took his finger back from the child. A grin overtook his face as he stared at the baby. Yes, things were indeed falling into place. This child was his ticket to revenge and redemption, all at the same time. He was certain that he would be able to brainwash the infant into being his perfect little soldier. After all, it couldn’t possibly be that difficult to mold the child to his will during the coming, formative years.

Behind him, Tempus was staring at the boy with a satisfied grin on his face. There was perhaps, even a flicker of recognition in his face, as though he’d been there before. Cameron took it all in with one swift glance over his shoulder. Then he moved his gaze back to the alien before him.

“Are you sure he’s…safe?” Cameron asked. He was a tad fearful of handling the child after Tempus had told him of the strength the baby would possess.

“Absolutely. For God’s sake, Cameron, he’s just a baby. He’s completely and utterly helpless…for now. Besides, take a look around. Your insurance policy is all around you.”

Cameron lifted the child out of the capsule, and settled him against his chest. The baby’s head rested on his shoulder, and Cameron absently patted the boy’s back. It was so natural for him to have such a young one in his arms, though he was a bit rusty. His own son was much older than the little one he now held, but he still clearly remembered how the boy used to fit into his arms.

“Insurance policy?” Cameron asked. The time-traveler hadn’t spoken of an insurance policy before now.

“Yes,” Tempus said, nodding his head. He stooped down to gather a few glowing green rocks in his hand. He turned one over in his palm, staring into the depths of the stone intently. “You see these?”

Cameron nodded. “Yes…”

A wicked grin crossed Tempus’ lips and his eyes gleamed with an almost malevolent light, Cameron thought.

“Kryptonite.”

“Come again?” Cameron said, blinking at the unfamiliar word.

“Radioactive pieces of the baby’s home world,” the man from the future explained. “Temporary exposure will cause that thing pain. It’ll rob him of his powers once they manifest, at least for short periods of time. Prolonged exposure will kill him.”

Cameron nodded again, relieved. He’d given quite a lot of thought to all Tempus had told him about the Kryptonian child. If the baby grew to be as powerful as Tempus had led him to believe, he’d worried about finding a way to ensure that the alien stayed in line. He’d agonized over finding a way to destroy the alien life-form if the worst came and he went rogue.

“So…a bullet made from this stuff…”

“Would be lethal,” Tempus confirmed.

“Excellent.”

“So, you’ll be taking this order as a carryout then?” Tempus said, laughing.

He knelt on the ground, opening the small lead case he carried. Cameron watched as the man gleefully filled the case with the scattered bits of Kryptonite. He noted how Tempus hummed to himself, an odd tune Cameron had never heard, and assumed came from some time in the future. Once or twice, the man even kissed the current stone in his hand, throwing a glance at the baby. Cameron thought he saw barely concealed hatred in those glances, and he wondered silently at it. Tempus hadn’t shown any emotion, positive or negative, toward the impending arrival of the baby until now. But now, it seemed he loathed the boy.

“Tempus,” Cameron said after a moment.

Tempus’ head snapped up at the sound of his name, only for a second. Then he went straight back to his work. He placed in the last piece of Kryptonite, then shut the case tightly.

“What now?” he asked irritably.

“Well,” Cameron said, shifting the baby’s weight on his hip, slightly uncomfortable with Tempus’ change in attitude. “I was wondering. Why? Why are you dropping all of this in my lap? What reason do you have for hating this child?”

Tempus grinned, looking very much like the Cheshire Cat. The smile even touched his eyes.

“Because, my dear Cameron, this child will one day grow up to destroy the world as you and I know it. He’ll shape society to his own image, his own values. Trust me, I’m doing the world a favor by handing him to you. I believe that people like you and me should be shaping the future. Not some alien creature.”

Cameron nodded silently as Tempus stood and dusted off the knees of his pants. Cameron was about to pick up the lead case with his free hand when a man and woman came picking their way over to them, following the same line of overturned dirt and the long, unmistakable scar in the ground. Cameron pushed the baby into Tempus’ arms, then started to jog over to meet the curious couple.

“Hold it! Stop right there!” he commanded as he moved.

The two people did not slow.

“Halt!” Cameron tried again, mustering up his very best military voice. “This area is off limits!”

“Who are you?” the male newcomer asked. “What are you doing here? This is private property, belonging to a friend of mine.”

“Sergeant-Major Cameron Trask of the United States Armed Forces,” he said. “And this area is off limits to civilians.”

“The military?” the woman asked, her voice colored with confusion. Then, to Cameron, she said, “We thought we saw a meteorite.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s why we’re here, to recover it. My division has an interest in the object.”

He wasn’t sure why he was explaining anything to these people. Perhaps it was nerves, or just plain old disuse of official protocol in the intervening years since his discharge.

“Oh?” the man asked.

Cameron could see now, thanks to the moonlight, the man’s features. He was no more than a simple farmer, judging from the clothes he wore. It made him crack a tiny smile. These yokels would believe any story he could possibly dish out.

“And what division would that be?” the man pressed, his eyebrow arched.

“Bureau Thirty-Nine,” Cameron answered at once, wondering where that idea had come from. “Now, I’m going to have to ask you folks to vacate the premises. It isn’t safe here for you.” He managed to put on his best attempt at caring for their well-being.

“I don’t think we should…” the man began to protest, before Cameron cut him off.

“Sir, I’m not going to give you another warning. Don’t make me call for backup. I have no desire to see you both placed in handcuffs tonight.”

The woman frowned and tugged on the man’s arm. Her husband or boyfriend, Cameron assumed.

“Come on, Jonathan,” she said, a small sliver of worry in her voice.

The man — Jonathan — said nothing. He instead held Cameron’s gaze for a minute longer than was necessary. Then he nodded to the woman.

“All right, Martha,” he relented.

Cameron watched silently as the two turned and began to amble back over the darkened field. He allowed himself to feel a small moment of triumph. But the couple’s appearance brought to light a new concern. Who else had witnessed the supposed meteorite crash? Who else might show up, uninvited, to the crash site? He had to move, and he had to move now. He turned and headed back to where Tempus stood, lurking in the shadows, out of sight of the two farmers. The infant was asleep in his arms, his tiny pink mouth slightly open.

“Took you long enough,” Tempus said, pushing the child into Cameron’s arms again with disgust. “I am not a baby-sitter.”

Cameron took the baby almost absently. “We need to move. I’ll take the case. Can you grab the ship?”

Tempus nodded. “I don’t see why not. After all, you’re preserving the future,” he said, a gleam in his eye.

Cameron watched as Tempus grabbed the ship and easily lifted it. He wasn’t a muscular looking man at all. Cameron had assumed the capsule was heavy. It certainly looked like it weighed a considerable amount. But Tempus didn’t seem to be struggling with it much. In fact, he might as well have been holding an awkwardly shaped bowling ball for all the strain he appeared to be exerting.

Back across the field they went, using the moon’s light to see by. At first, they were guided by the torn up soil that stretched across the otherwise grassy field. After that, they just kept moving in as straight a line as they could manage. It was slower going this time, with both men walking side by side. Tempus was quiet as he walked.

“Who were those people?” Cameron finally asked, assuming Tempus might know.

“You mean those two hicks?”

“Yes.”

Tempus’ smile went from ear to ear. “No one important,” he chuckled. “You don’t need to worry about them at all.”

They emerged from Shuster’s Field just north of where Cameron had parked, and they swiftly made their way back to the waiting vehicle. Once there, Cameron placed the still sleeping child back in his capsule, which he placed sideways on the passenger seat. Then he loaded the case filled with Kryptonite into the truck, placing it on the floor in the rear of the vehicle. Tempus pulled a worn, battered olive drab tarp around the ship, hiding it from view, leaving Kal-El exposed amidst a sea of green. While Cameron was busy with the case of Kryptonite, Tempus leaned on the doorframe and peered in at the sleeping infant.

“This time, I’ve won,” he whispered. “You don’t know it yet. But you’re going to destroy the possibility of Utopia, not bring it about. The future belongs to people like me, like this moron Trask.” He stopped and laughed a self-satisfied laugh. “Goodbye, Kal-El.”

With that, Tempus pushed himself away from the vehicle. He grinned again, then reached his hand into his pocket, feeling the small square of plastic and metal hidden there.

“Get in,” Cameron said, coming around and shutting the door to the backseat where the alien child slept. He gestured to the rear seat of the jeep.

“No thanks. I’ve already got a ride,” Tempus said.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Cameron protested, turning to face his companion.

But Tempus was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he’d simply vanished into thin air. Cameron thought it likely that he actually had. Perhaps he’d gone back to whatever time and place he’d initially come from. Cameron shrugged to himself. It didn’t matter to him. He had what he needed now. The child was in his possession. And he had the means to control the super-powered adult that the baby would grow into.

Cameron climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck and buckled himself in. He checked on the baby, peering into the rearview mirror to do so. The child was still asleep, his mouth moving now in a lazy sucking motion. Cameron smiled, not at the child, but at what lay ahead for the baby. He could hardly wait to start the process of making the child into his own, personal super soldier.

***

June 27, 1968

“Sir, I’m afraid it’s no use.” The man’s voice held a note of frustration mixed with worry. “I’ve tried.”

“Try it again.”

“Mr. Trask, I’ve tried every type of needle known to mankind. The child’s skin is impervious.”

The man gestured to a steel side table filled with hypodermic needles. The metal ends were bent into a vast array of odd angles. Every single one was damaged. Every one still held various liquids within their chambers, ready to be dispensed. Cameron took it all in at a glance.

“Look here. I’ll show you,” the man pressed.

The man picked up another needle from a different table. It was one of a remaining three needles that were undamaged. He stuck the tip into a vial of clear liquid, drew back the plunger, and carefully filled it. Then he tapped out the air bubbles before moving back to the two year old sitting in front of him. The man silently brought the needle to the child’s arm and pressed it firmly against his skin. The needle buckled and bent to the left, not breaking through even a single layer of the alien’s skin. For his part, the child took no notice, and happily chewed his fingers.

The child was known as Specimen S in the compound, for the sigil that had been emblazoned on the baby blanket he’d been wrapped in when he’d crashed landed on Earth. And so far, S, as they referred to him for short, was developing just as Tempus had told Cameron he would. In every way, he appeared to be a typical two year old child. He hit all of the same milestones on time, no different than Cameron’s son, Jason, had once done. S crawled when he was supposed to, said his first word when he was supposed to, took his first uncertain steps when he was supposed to. Only his aura of invulnerability set S apart from other, normal little boys and girls.

“See?” the man asked, setting the needle aside with a sigh.

“Yes, I see,” Cameron said, stroking his chin in thought. “Jenson, try putting a needle through his diaper.”

“Sir?”

“Do it,” Cameron coaxed. “I want to see something.”

Steve Jenson hesitantly prepped another needle, then attempted to puncture the thin diaper the child wore. As before, the needle bent upon impact.

“Interesting,” Cameron said. “His aura is already stronger than Tempus made it out to be.”

He paused for a moment, then reached beneath his shirt. He drew out a thick, stylish silver chain. Adorning the bottom, a small cylindrical tube hung, one made of lead. Carefully, Cameron unscrewed the tube from the top, revealing a shard of glowing green Kryptonite. Across the room, the baby wailed, a high-pitched scream of pain. A look of alarm flickered over Jenson’s features, though he did not understand exactly what was going on.

“Try it now,” Cameron said, raising his voice over the child’s screech.

“Sir? What? I don’t understand,” Jenson said.

“Do it,” Cameron commanded. “Now.”

Jenson nervously nodded his head and prepped the final needle. His shoulders were slumped in defeat, knowing he’d never change his boss’ mind, and fully anticipating another busted hypodermic needle. Yet, to Jenson’s infinite surprise, the needle easily slipped into the baby’s flesh this time. S let out another pained scream as the metal pricked him, and fat tears rolled down his chubby cheeks.

“Ssh!” Jenson tried to soothe him. “There, there. It’s not so bad.”

He quickly pushed the plunger down, administering the harmless placebo. He withdrew the needle immediately, and a round red drop of S’ blood welled up on his skin.

“See, all done,” Jenson cooed at the baby.

Cameron chuckled from his place on the other side of the room. He swiftly recapped the Kryptonite, shielding it away where it could do no more harm to the child. After all, he wasn’t sure how long the baby could be exposed to it without it killing him. And that was something he was unwilling to risk. He needed the child to live; he’d invested too much in S already. Immediately, S’ cries changed. No longer were they shrieks of agony. Now they became only the whimpering cries of a frightened child in desperate need of comforting.

“Very interesting,” Cameron said, smirking to himself and tapping the lead tube affectionately with one finger. “Excellent.”

Steve Jenson picked the boy up and lightly rubbed his back, hoping to impart some comfort to him. S continued to cry, his tears wetting the man’s shoulder. Jenson gently began to sway, hoping the movement would pacify the baby.

“Sir, if I may ask…? What was that?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“But, sir…”

“No!” Cameron snapped at him. “It isn’t healthy for a man to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Yes…of course,” Jenson said, well aware of the threat in Cameron’s voice and words.

Cameron eyed him coldly for a long moment. “Good,” he finally said.

In Jenson’s arms, S was finally starting to settle back down. His cries tapered off and he began to hiccup. Jenson lightly patted the boy’s back, though it was almost purely an unconscious effort. He wasn’t really thinking about what he was doing. He was just acting. Though, he had to admit to himself, he felt a stab of pity for the boy. And fear. Jenson wasn’t sure what his boss was up to, but it bothered him to see the man acting so callously toward a helpless two year old.

And yet, Jenson wasn’t stupid enough to say anything. Cameron had a violent temper sometimes, ever since he’d been kicked out of the military. Jenson was almost positive that Cameron wouldn’t actually harm or kill him, but he wasn’t willing to bet his life on that. And besides, if Jenson said anything, it was certain that his boss would terminate his employment. Jenson didn’t want that either. He’d been waiting his whole life for an opportunity like this — an opportunity to study an alien life-form up close and personally. He wasn’t about to do anything to throw away an opportunity like this one.

“So…what now?” Jenson asked carefully, shifting S on his hip.

“We proceed with Phase Two.”

“Phase Two?” Jenson echoed. He frowned. “What’s that?”

“More testing,” Cameron said, shrugging as though it were the most obvious thing in all the world.

“More testing how?” Jenson echoed once more.

“Everything,” Cameron replied evenly. “We test every disease known to mankind. We test every weapon known to mankind. We see what S can and cannot handle.”

“But sir,” Jenson said, paling slightly. “Tempus said…”

“I know what Tempus said,” Cameron replied angrily. “But only an idiot believes something one hundred percent without checking things himself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, perfectly so.”

“Good.”

***

October 25, 1970

“How’s it going there, Jenson?”

“Good,” Steve Jenson replied, finishing his examination of four year old S. “Just a minute, please.” He took a final listen to the child’s heart, nodded, then draped the stethoscope around his neck once more. “Okay, S. All done.”

“Can I have a pop?” the child inquired. “Please?”

Jenson chuckled and reached into the clear canister that stood on the countertop of his small medical office. He fished out a cherry flavored lollipop, unwrapped it, and gave it to the boy. S happily popped the treat into his mouth and sucked on it silently. But his wide, brown eyes never left the two adults.

Cameron leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Well?”

Jenson sighed. “Well, I think we’ve tested most of the major viruses and germs. He seems immune to everything. Even when we’ve tested him against the same things with that green rock of yours, the results have been the same. It’s as if Earth viruses simply aren’t compatible with his biology. They don’t have the power to affect him. For the most part, it seems like his body works the same as yours and mine. He eats, he sleeps, he has a pulse and a heartbeat, he bleeds if hurt when exposed to that rock.”

“I already know this,” Cameron said, tapping his toe impatiently. “Tell me something I don’t know yet.”

“Well,” Jenson said, fidgeting in his chair a little. “We finally got the x-ray machine over the weekend, while you were away.”

Cameron perked up a little at that. “And?” he asked eagerly.

Jenson shook his head. He handed his boss a manila folder with the images the machine had taken. Cameron flipped on the lighted board on the wall and held each image up to it. Every single one was a solid mass. He could see nothing. No organs. No bones. Nothing.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded, flinging the x-rays back at Steve Jenson.

The photos flew in all directions. One landed in Jenson’s lap. The rest fluttered to the floor. S watched it all, silently tracking the images with his eyes. But he did not move, other than to continue to work at the lollipop Jenson had given him. Even that young, he knew enough to fear Cameron.

“Mr. Trask, please…”

“Don’t give me excuses, Jenson! I went through hell to get that machine. And you present me with this rubbish?”

“I know what it looks like,” Jenson said, trying to appease the ex-Sergeant-Major.

“It looks like useless garbage,” Cameron retorted.

“I know,” Jenson said again, nodding. “But…those scans…they tell me something about this child. His molecular make-up isn’t like ours. He’s denser then we are. Which is why we can’t see anything in the scans.”

Cameron sighed. “That doesn’t do us much good.”

“Maybe not. But it puts us a little closer to understanding how different he is from us.”

Cameron thought about this for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Proceed to Phase Three.”

***

January 12, 1971

The sound of gunfire blotted all other noise out. S flinched at every shot, the sound reverberating in his ears. He felt the bullets as they hit him, one after another, as the expert marksmen fired at him. But they didn’t hurt him. In fact, they bounced right off his skin. But he was afraid nonetheless. He didn’t understand what was going on. He didn’t understand the loud noises, or why they were being directed at him. He didn’t understand the sharp stench of the gunpowder or the flashes of light and fire that exploded out from the barrels of the weapons.

He looked down at the spent rounds that lay pooled around his feet. They were high enough to bury his toes and kiss his ankles. A vast array of bullet sizes and shapes were mixed in that small ocean around him. He didn’t understand that either. Why were these people using so many different things against him? And why had they chained him in place? To his almost five year old brain, nothing about the situation made any sense.

He knew, even at that young age, that Cameron disliked him. He also knew that Cameron could hurt him, and hurt him very badly. S was terrified of the green stone Cameron sometimes produced. It made his entire body scream in agony. It made him so weak that he could barely stand. And somehow, S knew, child though he was, that it could kill him.

He closed his eyes as another hailstorm of bullets peppered his bare chest, though it was not because he was afraid of the projectiles. He was afraid of the people standing on the opposite side of the room, each in their own little compartment. Each face was grim. None held any compassion for S, or showed any worry or remorse over what was happening.

S opened his eyes once more as the guns were silenced and the marksmen reloaded their weapons. S watched as Cameron strode into the room. The marksmen held their fire, respectful of the man in charge. Cameron went to one of the men and whispered something in the man’s ear. S could see Trask’s mouth moving, but he could hear nothing. However, the man with the gun nodded in silent understanding. Trask stepped back, his hand moving to the chain around his neck.

S gulped in renewed fear. He knew what the gesture meant. The green rock was coming out. In another second, he would feel its effects on his body. S tried to squirm his way away, tried to put as much distance between his body and Trask as he could. But the chains were strong and short. S couldn’t move more than an inch or two.

“Wait for my signal,” Trask cautioned the shooter.

In the next instant, S felt the Kryptonite as it began to ravage his body. He fell to his knees, scraping them on the rough concrete floor. He cried out, but no one came to his aid. No one said a comforting word.

“Now,” Trask said.

The gunman nodded once in acknowledgement, though S didn’t see it. The man squeezed the trigger, and a bullet whizzed by S, expertly placed. It grazed the top of his left shoulder. S screamed as his flesh tore open and his blood began to gush from the wound. Fat tears leaked from his eyes, from the excruciating pain and the immense terror that now gripped him.

“Excellent,” he heard Cameron say.

A minute later, S felt the Kryptonite vanish. He felt his flesh begin to knit back together as the wound on his shoulder closed. Jenson was at his side in the next second, inspecting the place where the bullet had injured S. But there was no injury to be seen. The skin was unbroken, unblemished, as if the wound had simply never existed.

“I’m sorry, S,” Jenson said in a whisper. “I didn’t know.”

S could only nod his head slightly, now more afraid than ever before.

***

July 28, 1976

“That’s it. Keep going,” Jenson encouraged.

“How…much…further?” S puffed out between breaths.

Ten year old S was running on a treadmill. Various electrodes and wires sprouted from his body, monitoring his vital signs. The machine was going at a fairly fast pace, having been modified to reach up to one hundred miles per hour. S was cruising along at about forty miles per hour, Jenson could see. And yet, the boy barely seemed to be struggling. He was breathing only slightly heavier than normal, and his pulse was holding steady. He wasn’t even sweating.

It unnerved Jenson.

Once again, it hammered home the fact that S was an alien. Though he looked and sounded like a regular kid, he was not of the Earth. He was not human. It was a fact Jenson sometimes found himself forgetting.

He’d worked closely with S for most of the child’s life. He’d grown attached to the helpless baby S had once been. He still had a special place in his heart for the boy, though he kept his feelings tamped down where Cameron could not see. If Trask suspected Jenson’s feelings, chances were great that he’d pull the man from his duties. He might even kill him, rather than simply terminate his involvement with the ragtag group of rogue scientists who called themselves Bureau Thirty-Nine.

But Jenson couldn’t shake the fondness he had for the alien child. He could not force himself to view the boy as merely a science project or laboratory animal, the way everyone else did. Instead, he tried to be as gentle to the boy as he could, when no one was looking. He’d slip the boy a cookie when he could, or give him an easy day when they would go through the rigorous medical testing they routinely did. As a result, S had developed a tenuous trust in the man, and he rarely ever fought against Jenson’s requests.

“Let’s do another twenty miles,” Jenson replied. “Then we’ll call it a day.”

“Okay,” the boy said, sighing resignedly.

S continued to run, never faltering in his steps. He didn’t need to slow down, didn’t need to rest. He didn’t need to sip from the water bottle which stood at the ready for him, just in case. It never ceased to amaze Jenson, to see just what S could accomplish. He wondered what other abilities the boy might exhibit in the future. Cameron had hinted at powers to come, but he hadn’t divulged just what they might be. Jenson secretly thought that he was seeing only the tip of the iceberg when it came to S’ abilities. The thoughts and questions sometimes kept him up at night, truth be told.

How fast would S become? Would he ever be able to outrun a train, for example? Cameron was worried about how strong the boy would grow to become. Would he be able to lift a car with his bare hands? Would he possess the ability to bend steel? Jenson knew that his boss was working — slaving really — over plans to build a more secure cell for S, one he would not be able to break free of once his strength began to manifest. Jenson wondered when that would be. S was lean and muscular by nature, never possessing the “baby fat” the scientist had observed on every other young child he’d ever come across, at least, not past the age of three. He also wondered what other surprises S might have in store for them. Would he be able to control the elements? Would he gain the ability to shape-shift?

The fact was, Jenson was in the dark as to what he should anticipate. And that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Soon enough, S finished the remaining miles. Jenson flicked a switch, and the treadmill slowed. S hopped down from the deck before it could wind down to a complete stop. He looked expectantly at Jenson.

“Very good,” Jenson said, nodding. “Good work today.”

“Thank you,” the boy said, casting his eyes downward.

S knew what would come next. It was time for his daily lessons. For the rest of the day, he would sit with Cameron. Trask personally oversaw the child’s education. No one but Trask and S were privy to what, exactly, those lessons consisted of. Cameron refused to speak of it, and had threatened Jenson the one time he’d had enough nerve to ask. And S grew afraid anytime Cameron’s name was mentioned; clamming up immediately if the man was brought up in conversation.

Jenson sighed inwardly, but S had already moved away, obediently heading to the small, private room where his lessons took place.

For the next five hours, Cameron drilled S on the information he wanted the child to know. Had S known any better, he would have called the lessons brainwashing attempts, not an education. Oh, it was true that Cameron did teach the boy some things. S could recite the names of every major city in the world, what countries they were in, and who was in charge. He could accurately point out every type of military equipment from a series of photographs. He could easily figure out the longitude and latitude of any place Cameron could possibly mention.

None of the information that Cameron fed S was hard for the child to learn. He had only to see or hear it once, and the information imbedded itself into his memory. It became an indelible part of his limited knowledge. And yet, S had the nagging feeling that Cameron was withholding information from him, even at that young age. He’d witnessed Cameron count off items from separate piles and come up with a new amount. S just couldn’t figure out how Cameron did it. He’d asked once. The question had enraged Trask, and he’d forced S to endure the harmful effects of the green stone for the better part of an hour.

S had never questioned Cameron again after that incident. He wisely held his tongue, bit back any questions he had, and submitted to doing only what Trask asked of him, when it was asked of him. He became as compliant as possible. But alone in his cell at night, S often wept bitterly and wondered what lay beyond the walls of the compound that made up his home — the only home he’d ever known.

He looked forward to the times when he was allowed a rest from his labors. If Cameron was feeling generous, S would be allowed short periods of time outdoors. S reveled in the sunlight during those hours. Perhaps he was imagining it, but it felt to him like he became stronger, more alive in the gentle caress of the sun. It was almost like the warm rays fed his body. It made S all the more miserable on the days he was stuck indoors.

He never complained however. Not to anyone. Not even to Jenson, who had always treated him as gently as possible. And certainly not to Trask. S feared the man. He feared the shard of green stone the man forever had hanging about his neck, ready to pull out and use to punish S at the drop of a hat. Instead, S chose to suffer in silence, dutifully playing the part Cameron wanted of him. To do so, S tried to harden his heart. He knew Cameron wanted him to be able to hurt and kill people, once he grew older and stronger. Who they were, S didn’t know. They were simply “the enemy.” But S had the impression that “the enemy” was anyone who wasn’t Bureau Thirty-Nine.

Try as he might, S found it impossible to force himself to become the cold-hearted killer Cameron wanted him to become. He found such delight in the small things — a bird flying overhead when he was outdoors, a butterfly landing on his nose, the sweet perfume of the flowers that grew in the rough landscape where the compound was located. He couldn’t understand why Trask wanted him to destroy so many wonderful, fascinating things.

The more S thought about it, the more it kept him awake at night. The more it flooded his young body with terror for what the future held. He didn’t want to kill. He didn’t want to destroy. He simply wanted to live his life.

***

December 23, 1978

Night had finally settled over Bureau Thirty-Nine’s compound. S sat alone in his cell, on the rough army cot that served as his bed. His legs dangled off the side, and he swung them listlessly. He felt incredibly lonely in the absolute quiet, as he often did at night. Part of him enjoyed, even relished, the time alone. It meant he wasn’t being tested. It meant Cameron wasn’t cramming his head full of bad thoughts. It meant S wasn’t subjected to the endless attempts to twist his personality into a mindless drone, into Trask’s own, personal, super soldier. It meant Cameron wasn’t torturing him with that chunk of Kryptonite.

And yet, on the other hand, S had never really liked being alone, with no one to talk to.

S knew, just from observing Trask’s men, that they were becoming afraid of him. They never came near him. In fact, they barely glanced in his direction now. S knew he was not quite the same as them, even if he looked just like them. He could easily outrun them — could outrun their cars. He barely had to exert himself to do anything. He didn’t sweat in the heat. He didn’t shiver in the cold. And he was slowly becoming very, very strong. He could already lift twice his own weight, barely straining to lift the heavy barbell whenever Jenson tested him.

There were other things too. Things that set him apart from the others. Things he didn’t tell Jenson, or anyone, for that matter, about.

Things that terrified the twelve year old boy.

He could hear everything around him. He could hear the generator in the basement as though it were right next to him in his small cell. He could hear the heat whooshing through the radiator system, a steady hissing sound like an angry snake. He could hear Jenson in his office, absently clicking a pen against his teeth, a sure sign the man was deep in thought. He could hear Jenson’s heart beating, steady and strong. And somewhere in the storage area, a mouse was ferreting through a box, tearing strips of old newspaper to use in lining its’ nest.

S hadn’t been able to control what he could hear in the beginning. He’d been in agony then, as his hearing zeroed in on everything around him. A sneeze coming from a worker somewhere down the hall had become a bombshell in S’ ears. The sounds of crickets at night had kept him awake, driving him slowly crazy. The footsteps of ants out beyond his cell could not have been louder in his delicate ears. The faltering heart rhythm of Eric Princely had alerted S to the fact that the man’s heart was diseased. Princely had dropped dead an hour later.

But through self discipline and a lot of practice on his own, at night when he was finally alone, S had begun to master his special hearing. He could now tune in and out of his hearing as he pleased — most of the time. There were still occasions when it took him off guard. Just that afternoon, a sudden burst of radio static had entered his hearing and made him wince in pain.

S kept his hearing abilities to himself. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was capable of. They might try to use it against him somehow. And S feared more testing. He feared Cameron would find a way to try and make S use his ability to hurt people in the future. And, S acknowledged to himself, he could use the strange, sometimes frightening, ability to listen in on the private conversations all around him, though he often felt guilty about doing so. Most of what he overheard was useless. What did he care if Cameron was upset with his son, Jason, for dropping out of college? What was college anyway?

Then, there was the frightening developments happening to S’ eyes. That scared him worse than his abnormal hearing. If he tried hard enough, he could see right through objects. Walls of stone and metal meant nothing. When he concentrated, he could see right through the barrier to look at what lay beyond. He could look straight through a person’s skin and examine the bones and muscles that made up a body.

It had terrified S, the first time he’d encountered it. Cameron had been well into one of his lessons, and S had been staring at the man, his mind wandering somewhat. The next thing he knew, S wasn’t seeing Trask anymore. He was looking at the man’s insides. He’d watched as the man’s heart had pumped the blood in his veins, had seen the ripples on the surface of Trask’s brain, had seen the scar on the bone of the man’s left arm, the only reminder of a break he’d suffered as a boy.

S hadn’t known what to make of this new development. He had only known that he wasn’t about to interrupt Trask. He had only known to hide this new ability.

That night, in his cell, S had tried to duplicate the event. He’d stared at his wall intently for hours, hoping to reproduce the strange vision so that he might come to understand it better. He’d succeeded after a long time, the wall falling away to reveal the moonlit trees beyond the confines of his cell. Every night since then, S had spent some time working on the ability, and enjoying the view it afforded him of the outside world. It was the only bit of solace that he had. And the more he stared through the wall to the outside world, the more he yearned to be free.

S sighed to himself as he sat on the rough cot. To occupy himself, he stretched out his hearing, ferreting out all the members of Bureau Thirty-Nine. He could hear Trask in his office, locking it up for the night. The metal keys jingled merrily as they clinked together. S heard the sharp snap as the bolt of the lock slammed into place. Footsteps approached, and S listened with even greater attention.

“Goodnight, sir,” Jenson said. S could picture the pleasant smile on the man’s face.

“Night, Jenson.” Trask’s voice was gruff, preoccupied.

“Merry Christmas,” Jenson said brightly. “The same to Marlene and Jason.”

S heard Cameron snort his acknowledgement. “Make sure S’ cell is secure before you leave.”

“Of course.”

“I promised Marlene we’d visit her parents for the holiday. I won’t be around until the twenty-seventh. Take some time for yourself, if you want.”

“I…that’s very generous of you, sir.”

“Leave enough food for S.”

S grimaced. He’d heard Cameron say the same thing when speaking about an animal.

“Will do,” Jenson agreed. “I think I might fly out to Vegas if you don’t mind my taking the time. My sister’s been sick, and I really ought to go see her.”

“By all means.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good holiday.”

S dialed his hearing back to normal levels. He’d asked Jenson once, what Christmas was. Jenson had told him, in halting tones, about the holiday. S had tried to imagine what it might be like — to spend the day surrounded by family, a large meal, gifts, and a reason to celebrate. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like. And that thought stuck fast in his mind. What would it be like, to have someone care about him? Not for the abilities he had. Not for the perceived ideas of what he might be able to do in the future. But for him, S, for the person he was on the inside. S had sighed then, knowing that would never happen. And on more than one occasion since then, the knowledge had caused him to cry himself to sleep.

A few minutes later, Jenson entered S’ cell. He set down a fairly large assortment of sandwiches and snacks, fruits and cereals. All things that didn’t require refrigeration or heat. Bottles of juice and water joined the rest in a tidy pile in the far corner of S’ cell. Jenson gave the boy an apologetic smile.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This should tide you over until then. I don’t know who else might be around. And you know the security guards won’t come near your room.”

“I know,” S sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Jenson said.

“Don’t be,” S replied, staring down at his feet. “You have a life outside of this place. I’m the only one who has to be here all the time.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. Besides, you’ll be getting a break from Cameron too. So that’s something to be happy about.”

S nodded. Jenson was right about that at least. S could take some small kernel of comfort in that fact. He said nothing to Jenson however.

“Bye, S,” Jenson said, closing the door and locking it behind him.

S listened as Jenson walked off, whistling a tune. He guessed it was one of the songs that went with the mysterious holiday of Christmas, for S only heard the man whistling it around this time each year. A few minutes later, S heard Jenson’s car start up, then the crunch of the tires on gravel as he turned out of the driveway and headed for home.

S was now totally alone. He looked at the pile of food Jenson had left for him and opened a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate it distractedly, as the thoughts swirled in his head. He stifled a sigh as he once again slipped into unhappy thoughts about how he’d never know what it was like to have someone care for him. A mother or a father. A brother or sister. A wife. A child of his own. He’d even settle just for one real friend.

He gazed at the lock that held him prisoner. And, as he stared, a thin line of searing heat emanated from his eyes. S blinked in surprise, cutting off the flow of heat when he saw the thick steel door beginning to melt. A surge of panic rushed through his entire body. What was happening to him now? His heart began to hammer in his chest as phantom alarm bells rang inside his mind. He clamped his eyes shut, not wishing to burn anything else, and hoping that the heat wouldn’t sear straight through his eyelids.

But then, a thought occurred to him.

This could be his chance to escape. Jenson was gone. Cameron was gone. The only people left in the compound were a few rotund security guards. And, if he was hearing things correctly, they were busy celebrating the holiday early. S could hear their drunken singing, could hear the glasses of spiked eggnog clinking together as they all swallowed down another round.

Determination settled over S. He would take this chance. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another. The world beyond the compound was terrifying, but not as much as living his life as Trask’s personal lab specimen. S opened his eyes, focused on the door, and tried to figure out how he’d summoned the heat earlier.

For a long time, he remained unsuccessful. His heart sank and his hope fled. He was about ready to give up when, at last, a hesitant tendril of heat poured from his eyes. At first, it barely had any effect on anything. But gradually, S was able to focus it, strengthen it, and shape it into a effective, precise laser. S worked at the door until it he managed to cut a hole in it, wide enough for him to crawl through. It was, unfortunately, a huge red flag of how he’d escaped, but he didn’t care. Getting as far away from Bureau Thirty-Nine was the only concern flashing through his mind.

Glancing around his small cell, S picked up a thin windbreaker. It had deep pockets, which S thought useful. He slipped into the garment and then knelt by the pile of food Jenson had left for him. He rooted through it, packing as much as he could into the various pockets he sported. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. And yet, he regretted that he could not take it all with him.

Cautiously, quietly, S slipped down the silent halls of the compound. He made his way down to Trask’s office. The door was locked, but S melted the knob until it ran in a red-hot rivulet down the door. With no lock to hold it in place any longer, the door easily swung open. S didn’t turn on any lights. Enough spilled in from the lights in the rough parking lot, filtered as they were through the blinds on the window. Plus, S never really had trouble seeing in the dark. He looked around the office for a brief moment, then saw what he was looking for.

A manila file folder lay on Cameron’s desk. S knew it was about him, from the symbol emblazoned on the cover. It perfectly matched the one he was forced to wear on the back and chest of all of his shirts, like a shameful brand, marking him as Cameron’s property. He picked the folder up without bothering to thumb through it. He couldn’t read the words inside anyway. No one had ever taken the time to teach him. But he wanted to take it with him, in an effort to help him fade away into non-existence.

He was about to exit through Trask’s office window when he paused. Glancing around the room, his eyes flickered to the small globe resting on one of the bookshelves. S couldn’t explain it, but he had always felt drawn to the object. He’d never been allowed to touch anything in Cameron’s office, had never even had the desire to, knowing he’d be punished if he did.

Except for that globe. He’d always had the intense yearning to hold it and examine it.

Now, however, there was no one to stop him. No one to punish him. He listened intently, ensuring that the guards were all still enjoying their impromptu holiday celebration. Satisfied, he stepped over to the shelf and grabbed the globe, stretching on the tips of his toes in order to reach the high shelf.

At first, he couldn’t see anything special about the object — certainly nothing that would explain his life-long fascination with it. It was just a rough map-face of Earth. S had seen the same land and sea shapes reprinted in flat maps before. But then, as he looked at the globe in his hand, the map changed. A single word formed in his mind, whispered from the deepest part of his consciousness.

Krypton.

S got frightened and shoved the globe deep into his pocket. The experience had unnerved him, but he was loathe to leave the globe behind. He knew, somehow, that it was a part of him. Then, he silently opened the window to the cold night beyond, and let himself out of the compound. He dropped to the ground in a crouch, wincing at the sound of the gravel shifting as he impacted it. For a long moment, he hid there in the shadows, looking and listening. But no one was aware of his escape.

It was time.

S took off running, funneling all his energy into a ground-eating pace. He didn’t know what direction he was heading. North, south, east, or west — it simply didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was free. All that mattered was that he never be found. All that mattered was that he never have to see Trask ever again. And so he ran, never looking back, save for the occasional fearful glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was following him. But no one was.

S was barely aware of anything as he ran. He saw neither the scenery he was passing, nor the tell-tale changes in the stars and moon, indicating the passage of time. He kept off the roads, taking care to stay away from any place that might still have people. He didn’t want anyone to see him. They might try to hurt him, like Trask. Or worse — they might return him to Trask.

As he ran, his thoughts turned to the globe. It seemed a safer topic to dwell on than his new-found freedom and all the uncertainties it held. Why had the map-face changed? What was Krypton? Or was it who? Was Krypton a person? S felt fairly sure that the word was describing the new map the globe now displayed. Was it really connected to him somehow? He’d overheard Cameron discussing the “alien child, S” before. Was S truly not of Earth? Was that why he was so different from everyone else?

Each question spawned a dozen others, questions S had no real way of finding answers to. It weighed heavily on his mind and heart, until, at last, he had to force the thoughts away. He tried to focus only on the road directly ahead of him. He had no plan of what to do. He didn’t even want to try to formulate one just yet. He only wanted to put as much distance as he could between himself and Bureau Thirty-Nine. How long would it take before his absence was noted? How long before they found his trail? How long before they caught up with him?

Around midnight, S stopped in the shade of a large oak tree to rest. His energy reserves were dipping. He was ravenously hungry too, but he had so little in the way of provisions. He sighed, acknowledging that he’d have to eat sparingly, until he could find a new source of food, and something to carry it in. He fished out an apple from one of his jacket pockets and ate it in silence. It tasted sweet to his tongue, more so than ever before. Perhaps it was his freedom that made it taste so delectable. He took a thoughtful sip from the plastic water bottle he’d taken with him, careful not to drink much. He turned his thoughts to the road ahead again, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his body against the cold. The temperature didn’t bother him, but the uncertainties before him sent a very real chill down his spine nonetheless.

He’d need a place to hide out in during the daylight hours. He had to keep unseen. He couldn’t risk being found — not by Trask, not by anyone. He wanted to travel as far as he possibly could before holing up for the day. But he also knew that if he saw someplace that offered a good place to hide, he’d be forced to stop early if it came to it. Sighing, he stood and brushed the grass from his pants. Then he took off again, running at top speed across the cold, silent, dark landscape.

Three hours later, he had passed through a few more state borders, though he was unaware of this fact. He came across a flat swath of land dotted with farmsteads. He wanted to keep going, but found the rest of his energy reserve flagging. He was quickly running out of steam. His pace slowed until he was moving at a very human jog.

He found himself on one of the farms. He was close by a barn. He could smell the fresh straw and the scent of cows. It would be warm inside, he knew, and probably had a place where he could rest. It was tempting, to say the least. But as he thought about it, he shook his head to himself. Too dangerous. He might be seen.

He moved on to the next farm.

The house was completely dark and quiet at that small hour of the morning. Next to the tidy farmhouse was a work shed. That would make a better hiding place, he decided. The door wasn’t locked when he tried it, and he cautiously pushed it open. It groaned slightly on its hinges, but it was a soft sound. S stopped and listened nonetheless, but he didn’t hear anyone in the house stirring. Emboldened, he pushed the door open wider, then slipped inside. He shut the door behind him.

Even in the dark, S could see the orderliness of the shed. Everything had a place. And almost everything was in its designated place. A few tools lay scattered on a work bench, perhaps dropped in haste to get to dinner, perhaps left out for quick access in finishing the project they’d been employed for in the morning. S had never seen such a variety of items, and couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might be used for.

But the tidiness of the place was somewhat comforting. He’d lived his whole life in a place where military neatness had been strictly adhered to. It made the new setting feel almost familiar. And yet, that worried S. Were the people in the house military personnel? Did they know Trask? But, S also took comfort from the fact that despite the orderliness of the place, some things were somewhat out of place, broken, or disordered. Trask had never allowed for that, not even in Jenson’s private office. If these people could tolerate things being out of place, surely they couldn’t be military — could they?

There was a faint trace of paint fumes in the air. S could tell that, even without the help of his burgeoning super sense of smell. It wasn’t hard to see where it was coming from. An easel stood in one corner of the shed, a canvas still on it. S wandered over to it and inspected the painting. A crude landscape was splashed across the canvas, still unfinished, and still lacking a sense of depth. S wasn’t a good judge of art, but he could see the places where it still needed more paint. He thought that whoever’s skilled hand had been working on it would probably succeed in making it a very nice picture indeed. Already, unfinished though it still was, it exuded a kind of peace that seemed to leap from the rough canvas and straight into his body.

S turned away from the painting reluctantly, giving thought now to where he might sleep. He saw a pile of loose straw in one corner of the room. It smelled dry and fresh. It was both welcoming and inviting. S quickly shed his jacket and went to the straw. As much as he could, he buried himself down into his pauper’s bed, throwing the jacket on top of his body as a sort of makeshift blanket. Soon, only his head peeked out from the straw. He was almost instantly wrapped in a deep, dreamless, restful sleep.

***

December 24, 1978

S slept deeply as night faded into morning. He did not see the sunrise. He did not hear the few winter birds calling to one another. And he certainly did not hear the carefree whistling as the man entered into his work shed, “Joy To The World” spilling out of his pursed lips. At least, S didn’t hear these things at first. But as the man moved about the shed, S slowly floated up out of the deep sleep he’d fallen into.

Near panic seized his heart as he realized that he’d slept longer than he’d anticipated. He’d meant to slip out early enough to escape detection by anyone. But he’d been so exhausted the night before, when he’d finally crashed in his makeshift bed. Now he was caught. Now he would pay the price for his carelessness.

The happy whistling stopped, fully jolting S into complete wakefulness. Every muscle in his body immediately tensed, ready to run. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the frowning, yet not unkind, face of the farmer who owned the shed. S swallowed hard, looking for a way to flee, without knocking over the man standing before him.

“Hi there, son,” the man said in a soft voice. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

S reflexively grabbed his jacket to him as he sat up fully. He backed away from the man, not trusting the words he was saying. Trask was a good liar. What made this man any different?

“Hey now, please don’t leave,” the man said, trying again to gain his trust, and seeing S’ intention to flee.

He was still standing right in S’ way. The boy was trying to make up his mind if he should simply swerve around the farmer or not. He felt much stronger than he had the night before, as he lay in a warm pool of sunlight, drifting in through an old, but clean, window. He was certain he could hit even higher speeds than he’d managed the night before. He could be gone, miles away, before the man even knew what had happened.

And yet…

He dared not exhibit his special abilities.

Not in front of this stranger. Not even though S was certain he could flee where the man could not hope to follow. And not in broad daylight. There was no telling who else might bear witness to his special speed. There was no telling if Trask and his team had discovered his absence yet, or if this man wasn’t somehow one of Trask’s spies. And there was no telling how close a search party might be.

“You must be freezing out here,” the man said, looking around for a spare coat or some blankets. There were none. He started to slip out of his own thick coat. “Here,” he said as he shrugged out of one sleeve.

S shook his head emphatically. No.

“Nonsense,” the man scoffed in a gentle tone. “You need it more than I do.”

“No, thanks,” S said quietly. “I’m okay.”

The farmer shook his head and took off his coat anyway. He cautiously approached S, trying not to frighten the child. When he was close enough, he draped the tan garment over the boy’s shoulders. The coat was very heavy — perfectly suited for the freezing temperatures. It smelled nice too, in its own way — like wind and rain, grass and coffee. S felt oddly comforted by the smell. It was so different than the stuffy, sterile environment of Bureau Thirty-Nine’s compound.

“You’ll be cold,” the boy pointed out, his eyes downcast.

The man chuckled. “I’ll be all right. I’ve got my thickest sweatshirt on.”

S’ eyes flickered briefly to the man and saw that he was telling the truth. Then his eyes darted back down to the straw he was still partly buried beneath. The man pulled over a stool to sit on, giving S some space. Again, S had to fight down the desire, the almost overwhelming urge, to run as fast as he could.

“So, what’s your name, son?” the man asked.

S couldn’t tell if he was trying to ferret out information or just genuinely curious. He shook his head. That made the man frown. Was he angry with S? Would he want to hurt S, the same as Trask?

“Well,” the farmer said after a moment, filling the gap of silence that had fallen. “I’m Jonathan. Jonathan Kent. Want to tell me who you are? Where you come from? If you’re lost or in trouble, maybe I can help you.”

“Can’t,” S said, shrugging.

“Can’t?”

“Don’t have a name,” he said after a moment, mumbling mostly to himself.

“Everyone has a name,” Jonathan said, troubled. “Someone had to have called you something.”

S bit his lip in thought. Could he trust this man? Did he dare? He could lie and use a false name. He could always say Steve Jenson, for example. But that didn’t seem right to S, to lie like that. Cameron had always punished him with the green rock if he found out that S had told an untruth. And, he admitted to himself, it wasn’t particularly smart to use any name in conjunction with Bureau Thirty-Nine. But nothing else came to mind.

“No name,” he insisted after a long pause. Then, without even realizing it, he added, “Just S.”

“S?” the man — Jonathan — asked, confusion on his tongue. “That’s not a name for a young boy like you.”

S shrugged. “That’s all anyone’s ever called me.”

“Okay then. S. Where do you come from?”

S shrugged. “Not sure.”

Jonathan frowned again. “Where’s your family? Are you lost?”

S shook his head. “No family.”

“No family,” Jonathan echoed, shaking his head.

S’ reluctance to say much gave Jonathan a very bad feeling. Was the boy hurt? Was he the victim of abuse? Was he a drifting, homeless boy? Had he run away from home? Jonathan thought hard. He knew a great deal of people living in the immediate area. He knew everyone in Smallville, in fact, and much of their extended families. But this child, S, he did not recognize at all. How far had the boy traveled? And to do so in the middle of winter with a thin jacket made almost of parachute material! It bothered him immensely.

S studied Jonathan’s face. A word came to him, one he’d heard once, that summed up his situation, and might take away some of the concern on the farmer’s face. It meant a child with no parents. It meant no mother to love him. It meant no father to have pride in him.

“I’m an orphan,” he said quietly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, son,” Jonathan said.

S had noticed the ease in which the word “son” came from the farmer’s lips. He knew the man didn’t mean it — S was not his child after all. But it sent a little thrill through S to hear someone speak with such affection toward him. Jenson had always been as gentle with S as possible, but there had been no true love there. But this man was different. Somehow, S could feel a genuine feeling of compassion coming from him. It made S’ heart ache, knowing that he’d likely never experience it again, once darkness fell and he was free to move on.

“I should contact the Sheriff,” Jonathan said. “He might be able to locate some extended family who are missing you.”

“NO!” S yelled, pure terror engulfing him.

It was the first time he’d made eye contact with Jonathan. S’ eyes widened and the color drained from his face. He stood in a flash, clutching his jacket to his chest. He made a move for the door, but Jonathan caught him.

“What’s wrong?” Jonathan asked, now extremely concerned. “Take it easy.”

“Let me go!” S demanded.

He knew he was stronger than this kindly farmer. But he’d use his strength only if it was necessary. He didn’t want to hurt the man in any way. He wasn’t a monster, the way Trask wanted him to be.

“Take it easy,” Jonathan repeated. “Please, don’t run. I just want to help you.”

He relaxed his grip on S, trusting the boy not to run. S stood in place a moment, slightly dumbstruck. This man trusted him not to flee. He’d almost embraced S while preventing his flight out the door. He hadn’t been afraid of S. True, he had no reason to suspect the things that set S apart from normal people. But it had felt kind of good, to be held by someone. Everyone in Bureau Thirty-Nine kept their distance from him. Even Jenson rarely ever touched him, the once familiar pats on his shoulder now a thing of the distant past.

“Okay then,” Jonathan said, sitting back down. “You want to come in the house so we can talk?”

S shook his head.

Jonathan nodded, playing along. “That’s fine. We can talk here. Now, what was that all about, hmm?”

“Can’t,” S said, shooting a nervous glance at the door. There was no obstacle this time, if he needed to flee. “Can’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?” Jonathan prodded.

“They’ll tell him.” S shuddered involuntarily, wondering inwardly why he was telling this farmer anything. “I can’t go back. I’m afraid.”

“Him? Who?”

“Can’t say,” S insisted.

“I can’t help unless I know the problem. Is this person a family member?”

S shook his head. “No family at all.”

“A caretaker then?”

S nodded. It was close enough to the truth. Although, S thought, master was more like it.

“Does he hurt you?”

“Sometimes,” S said, feeling somewhat ashamed of the admission.

“What does he do?”

“I can’t say.”

How was he supposed to describe the torment Trask doled out with the Kryptonite he had? It would raise too many unwelcome questions. And though S felt Jonathan was a good man, he still couldn’t be sure if he trusted him yet.

“Please,” S pleaded. “I can’t go back.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “I’ll do what I can to help. Starting with…when was the last time you ate something?”

“I had an apple last night,” S replied.

“You must be starving,” Jonathan said. “Why don’t you come inside the house? Martha will fix you up with all the pancakes and buttermilk you can stomach. And I’m sure she’ll be glad of the company.”

“No, but thanks,” S said, though it was only through sheer willpower that he refused. But his traitorous stomach grumbled loudly. “I should leave. I don’t want to bother you,” he weakly tried to cover for his stomach.

Jonathan wasn’t buying it. “It’s no trouble.”

“No,” S said again, shaking his head.

“All right, suit yourself. I’m going to pop into the house really quick to get myself a cup of coffee. You can leave if you’d like. I won’t stop you. But if you want to stay, I’ll be right back.”

Without giving S the time to respond, the farmer was out of his chair and heading for the door. S used his special vision to watch as the door closed behind Jonathan. The man crossed the yard, hunched a little against the chill wind that was blowing. He quickly reached the door to the house and went inside. S watched as the man moved through the neat, well-kept farmhouse, until he was in the kitchen.

A woman was there, standing at the stove, checking on various pans and the contents of each. Jonathan went over to her, hugged her tightly, and planted a kiss on her lips. The woman — Martha, Jonathan had called her — kissed him back, then pulled away, smiling. She said something to Jonathan, and S realized with a sudden start that he should probably employ his sensitive hearing as well.

“Need an extra helping,” Jonathan was saying.

“Jonathan,” the woman said in a warning tone. “The doctor said…”

“It’s not for me,” he gently cut in.

“Oh? Do we have company? Wayne? No, wait, he’s out picking up his daughter from the airport this morning. Well, whoever it is, have them come in for goodness’ sake! It’s freezing out.”

“It’s not anyone we know,” Jonathan said, trying to explain. S thought the man’s voice seemed to take a delicate tone. “And he won’t come in. Martha, I don’t want to upset you, but…well…there’s a child out in our shed.”

“A child?” Martha said, her voice catching a little. “What’s a child doing here?”

Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to trust me enough to talk much. But I think he’s in a bad situation.”

“Oh my. We’ve got to help then.”

“I agree. But he won’t open up to me. He seems half-starved though, the poor kid. And really ill-equipped for being out in this cold weather. Say…where’d we put that space heater?”

“Basement, back left corner, next to the box of Christmas lights we no longer use.”

S continued to watch as the man left the kitchen. He let the farmer go out of his sight, and focused instead on Martha. She turned back to her cooking, removing the bacon from where it was crisping, cracking open some eggs to fry, and flipping pancakes. S’ mouth was watering. And his stomach was practically throwing a tantrum.

He should leave now, he reasoned. Before these people learned anything further about him. Before he brought trouble to them if Cameron located him. Before he could allow himself to feel any connection to these people. He’d been foolish so far, in divulging the small amount of information he had.

Yet he stayed rooted to the spot. There was something about this place. Something comforting. Something that spoke to him on some deep, primal level. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He wanted to explore that nagging sensation further, to see what it was. But the more he tried to grapple with it, the more it slipped away from him.

Had he known any better, he would have called it a sense of home and family.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Jonathan reemerged from the basement, hauling a space heater with him. Martha piled a tray high with plates of food, steaming mugs of coffee, and utensils. Then she grabbed her coat, put it on, and threw her husband’s spare coat over her arm. She followed him out of the house, back to the shed.

S allowed his special senses to fade back into the range of a normal human. He waited patiently as the two farmers entered the shed. Jonathan set down the space heater, plugged it in, and turned it on, ensuring that it was mostly focused on S. Then he dragged over a battered wooden table that wobbled slightly, and a couple of chairs that had seen much better days.

“Hello there,” Martha said, as she seated herself in a chair. “I’m Martha.”

“I’m S,” the boy offered, hesitantly.

“Well, S, it seems I made far too much food. I’d love it if you helped us with it.”

S knew exactly what the woman was trying to do. But he was so very hungry that he allowed himself to nod. Yes, he would stay and eat with them. Martha gave him a warm smile, and quickly fixed him a heaping plate of food. S ate with gusto. It was the best food he’d ever had. Usually, his meals consisted of sandwiches. When he was given a hot meal, it was always closer to lukewarm and completely unseasoned. He’d overheard Trask tell the man who cooked the meals not to waste any effort on S’ meals. But this food was incredible. It was piping hot and so flavorful as to be almost overwhelming for S and his keen senses of smell and taste.

He ate two large helpings, even though he was getting quite full after the first one. It was just too delicious to stop. As promised, there was a glass of buttermilk to go with his breakfast. S downed the glass in six large gulps, pleasantly surprised by the taste.

“Feeling a little better now?” Martha asked in a kind voice.

S nodded. “Yes, thank you. It was very good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Would you like to come in the house now?”

“No thanks. I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Jonathan said.

S just shook his head.

“All right,” the man said after a moment. “Martha? Let me help you bring this stuff back in the house.”

Martha nodded and rose to her feet. In a matter of minutes, the dirty dishes, utensils, cups, and other items were packed back up on the tray. Jonathan lifted it and ushered Martha back to the farmhouse. As before, S listened in with his special hearing, and watched with his unique vision.

“I don’t know, Martha,” Jonathan was saying. “He’s terrified. Poor kid.”

“He’s such a beautiful little boy,” Martha said, dabbing at her eyes with her apron. “I just want to take him into my arms and make his world better.”

“I know,” Jonathan said gently. “But whatever he’s been through, it’s clearly left some deep scars. If we’re going to help him, we have to be patient with him. We have to let him learn to trust at his own pace.”

“I know,” Martha said, her voice a sigh. “Oh, Jonathan. I always wondered what it would be like to have a child here on Christmas Eve. I just never thought it would be like this.”

S heard the woman attempt to stifle a sob. She didn’t quite succeed. Jonathan heard the sob too, and quickly stepped to her side and embraced her. For a long time, neither of them spoke. Martha’s shoulders shook as she wept. That confused S. Why was Martha crying? Did she not want him there? Perhaps it would be best to move on, before he hurt anyone else. Perhaps he should brave the road once more, even though the sun was still up. It had been reckless to stay in this place for as long as he had.

He was so lost to his thoughts that he really didn’t pay much attention to the things he could see happening within the house. He didn’t really register the words that passed between the farmer and his wife. And so, he was a little startled when Jonathan reentered the shed. S snapped out of his altered senses, back to normal once again.

“Look, S, I have to go into town for a little while,” Jonathan said, a kind smile on his face. “You can stay here if you like, for as long as you like. You can go on into the house if you change your mind. Or you can leave. It’s completely up to you. You can come with me in my truck if you’d like a ride into town.”

“No, thank you,” S said. The last place he wanted to be was in a town full of other people.

“All right then. If you do leave, please just turn off the heater. This is the switch right here.” Jonathan pointed it out to S. “I’m glad to have met you, S.”

“Do you…” S started, clearing his throat before trying again. “Do you want me to leave?”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, of course not. But I realize that I can’t make you stay if you want to leave. Personally, I’d love if you stayed for a while. So would Martha. But…it’s your choice.”

S merely nodded his understanding. A small wave of relief flooded his body. These people weren’t looking to get rid of him. They wanted him around. He only wondered why that was the case. Did they suspect that he was more than he seemed? Were they like Trask, looking to find a way to control him? He didn’t think that was the case though.

Jonathan didn’t wait for an answer. He merely turned and exited the shed, twirling his keys around one finger. His whistling started up again, this time a cheerful rendition of “Hark The Herald Angels” coming out from between his lips. S was unfamiliar with the tune, but it seemed somehow uplifting as he listened. Then Jonathan got into his truck, slammed the door shut, and started the vehicle. The engine roared into life and soon faded as the truck took off down the road.

For several hours, S remained in the quiet solitude of the shed. He wasn’t sure what to do now. These simple farmers were so kind to him. He almost felt he could trust them. But his life thus far had taught him that trust wasn’t something he should give. And besides, if these were truly good people — and S thought they probably were — he didn’t want to get them in trouble if Trask tracked him here. Yet, he didn’t want to leave either. He liked these people. And he was afraid of the road ahead, if he chose to leave.

He felt trapped, no matter what choice he made.

The day wore on, and soon, the short winter day grew gray as the light waned and heavy clouds rolled in. Before long, it began to snow, lightly at first but steadily becoming heavier. S peeked out of the shed’s window, watching as the white flakes pelted the ground and stuck there. It would be a perfect opportunity to slip away, he knew. No one would brave the storm that night, not if they could help it. But he would leave footprints behind. Although, he reasoned, for as long as the storm lasted, it would fill in the impressions made by his battered sneakers.

At that moment, Jonathan’s truck rumbled up the driveway and came to a halt. S heard the engine cut off. Jonathan got out of the cab and swiftly began to unload bags from the back. S watched as the man whisked the bags into the house. When everything was safely inside, S watched as the brightly colored boxes appeared from each shopping bag. Jonathan handed each wrapped box to Martha, who arranged them beneath a tree that stood in their living room, for what reason, S couldn’t begin to guess. He supposed it had something to do with the holiday. He’d overheard a couple of the Bureau Thirty-Nine men discussing picking out trees with their families, but he’d never quite figured out why they did it. Jonathan was talking to Martha, and S realized too late that he’d once again neglected to employ his hearing. He tuned into the two farmers.

“There’s one other thing,” Jonathan was saying. “I stopped by the Sheriff’s office before I went shopping.”

“Oh?” Martha’s voice sounded hesitant, tremulous.

“I had to. You know that.”

“I know. Wh…what did he say?” Martha wouldn’t — or couldn’t — meet his gaze, and instead, shifted the boxes on the floor.

“I gave Frank a description of S.”

S was stunned. His legs turned to jelly beneath him. Jonathan had told someone about him! Someone with authority. He was certain that Trask would be showing up any minute to come collect him. And when he arrived, he would hurt S. Maybe kill him. S refused to put that possibility past the man. And to think! He’d almost trusted these people! How could they betray him like that?

“And…?” Martha prodded.

Jonathan shook his head. “There’s no missing persons report filed for any child matching S’ description.”

That caught S’ attention, and he stopped short as he approached the door, making ready to leave. He wanted to hear the rest. Apparently, Trask hadn’t reported his disappearance to the authorities. S wasn’t world savvy, but he knew that Trask had to know of his disappearance by now. But what did that mean?

“What does that mean?” Martha asked, her words echoing S’ thoughts.

“Now, Martha, please, don’t get your hopes too high,” Jonathan said, sitting on the couch with her. “But…Frank says that S can stay here for a while, at least until the adoption agency opens back up after the New Year. If he truly has no living relatives, that is.”

“Adoption…?”

Jonathan sighed. “Well, probably the foster care system. Frank says the odds of a child S’ age getting placed in a permanent, adoptive home are pretty low.”

“Everyone wants babies,” Martha sighed in turn. “Maybe…”

“I’ve thought of that,” Jonathan said, nodding to her unspoken thought. “We’d have to wait and see, of course. I just don’t want to get our hopes too high. We’ve been turned down before.”

“But that was years ago. Surely by now…?”

“I don’t know. We can try though…if we can.”

S frowned. What did Jonathan mean, “turned down before?” What did he mean by “try?”

“I would do anything…” Martha said softly, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Anything.”

“You know I would too.”

“I know.” She paused for a the span of two heartbeats. “So…now what?”

“Is he still here, do you know?” Jonathan asked, nodding vaguely toward where the shed lay beyond the farmhouse walls.

Martha shook her head. “I’m not completely sure. I haven’t seen him leave the shed. But I haven’t been perched at the window in a stakeout either. I wanted to go back into the shed…but I forced myself not to. You’re right about one thing. We can’t force ourselves onto him. If he wants to trust us, he will. I just wish I could figure out a way to help him.”

“You’re a strong lady,” Jonathan complimented her.

“Not as strong as you think,” Martha said, sighing. “I spent part of the afternoon in tears. I’ve…we’ve…been praying for so long. I just…I wish…”

“That maybe he’s the answer to those prayers,” Jonathan finished for her. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself, all day.”

Martha could only nod.

S’ grip on the doorknob tightened a bit as he tried to puzzle out what Martha had meant. Why would he be an answer to anyone’s prayers? Did they want to use him? He’d overheard Trask calling S the answer to his prayers too. And Cameron had wanted S as a weapon, as a means to commit mass murder, as a conduit to bring suffering and pain to others.

Martha choked back another tear. “I already love that boy,” she whispered, as Jonathan took her in his strong arms.

“Me too,” he whispered back. “Me too.”

Love?

S’ hand slipped from the doorknob. He understood what the word meant. But he’d never known anyone to love him. These simple farmers had only just met him, and yet, they claimed to love him. It was impossible, wasn’t it? But then again…they didn’t know he was listening in on them. They didn’t know that S could hear their every word. It wasn’t as if they were trying to appeal to him, to entice him to stay.

Maybe, just for this night, he would remain. In the morning, he could decide what to do.

***

December 25, 1978

Christmas morning dawned cold and bleak. Snow still fell from the sky, though the storm had lost most of its power. Instead of racing down from the clouds, the flakes now lazily wafted through the air before joining their brethren on the ground. The whole world seemed awash in a pristine blanket of frigid whiteness. S peeked out of the window in the shed, his eyes wide. He’d been told about snow, had seen videos and pictures of it. But they didn’t do it justice. The beauty of it stole his breath away.

The night before, Jonathan and Martha had brought a simple dinner to the shed to share with him, a meal made of pasta and seven differently prepared types of fish. S had curiously asked what everything was, and Martha had patiently answered all of his questions. They had not discussed if S would be staying with them. They seemed to be taking their lead from him, letting him dictate the course of the conversation. S hadn’t brought it up either. He still hadn’t made up his mind.

He was grievously torn. He ached to stay. Something in his gut told him that he’d found a good place. That he’d found good people. But he was still scared. He no longer thought that these kind farmers would hand him over to Trask. But he feared what might happen if Trask ever discovered that they were sheltering him.

S had wrestled with the conflicting thoughts and feelings most of the night, until he at last fell into an exhausted sleep. He’d stayed in the shed again, had snuggled down into the bed of straw. Jonathan had offered him the spare bedroom in the house. He’d even promised him a mattress, since he’d never gotten rid of the bed he’d slept in as a boy himself. S had staunchly refused, as indecisive as he still was over whether to stay or to flee. So Martha had contented herself to bringing him a pillow and several thick, soft blankets. S had enjoyed the feel of the material. His cell had offered only a hard cot and scratchy, starchy, thin sheets.

All night long, he’d tried to place the feelings he was experiencing, tried to find the proper names for them. All night long, he’d failed. Now, in the light of the overcast morning, S wasn’t any closer to making his decision, wasn’t any closer to understanding the gut reaction he was feeling toward these kind strangers.

But he had decided on one thing. If Jonathan and Martha invited him in this morning, he would take them up on their offer. Perhaps then, he might be able to figure out his next move, and pinpoint the feelings circulating through his body.

He didn’t have to wait long. Jonathan waded across the yard through an ocean of white that reached halfway to his knees. When he reached the shed, S opened the door. Jonathan looked pleased to see that the boy was still there. That struck S as a new experience, and his heart gave a little flip in his chest. Trask and the others — even Jenson — had never looked pleased to see him in the mornings. They’d never looked unhappy, per se. Their expressions had only ever been neutral, or at the most, still partly sleepy. But Jonathan was bright-eyed and happy looking.

“Good morning,” the man said, in a voice that matched the twinkle in his eyes.

“Morning,” S replied.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Glad to hear it. I was wondering if you might want to come in for breakfast. Martha’s making her world-famous cinnamon buns.”

“I…I’d like that,” S agreed.

Jonathan’s smile exploded onto his face. “Excellent!” he said.

He turned and quickly shut off and unplugged the space heater. S gathered his things, not that he had much. He tucked the thin jacket beneath his arm, careful not to spill out the contents of his pockets. He wasn’t yet sure that he wanted or trusted these people enough to let them see the file on him. He didn’t know what the file said, but he could guess well enough. S didn’t want to frighten these people with the truth of what a freak he was. If he chose to stay here, then he would worry about things.

Jonathan quickly gathered the blankets and spare pillow, then guided S back across the yard to the farmhouse. S made certain to step in Jonathan’s footprints, just in case anyone happened to be prowling around, looking for evidence that S had been there. Trask had taught him the basics of warfare — how to track and ambush, how not to leave a trace for others to follow. He’d also begun to teach S about various weapons — guns and tanks, missiles and knives, gas attacks and hand-to-hand combat moves. Those discussions had left S feeling very uneasy. But now, however, he was glad to know how to cover his tracks.

Jonathan threw open the door to the farmhouse, stepped out of his shoes, and entered into the living room. S followed suit. Jonathan gestured for S to sit before the fire, which blazed merrily in the room’s hearth. S shyly sat on the edge of the couch, too nervous to allow himself to get comfortable. But he liked the warmth the flames gave off, and the cheerful light it threw.

“Wait right here,” Jonathan said, just before disappearing into the kitchen to help Martha.

S studied the rest of the room. It was true that he wasn’t surprised by the decor. After all, he’d looked at it before, when he’d used his unique sight to spy on the two farmers. But it was different, now that he was inside. Looking through walls couldn’t convey the coziness of the room. It couldn’t allow him to smell the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. They made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Looking through the walls hadn’t been able to show him just how comfortable the glow from the multicolored lights on the tree was. He decided that he liked the room, and wondered what the other rooms in the place felt like.

Before he could think too hard about it, Martha came into the room, once again bearing a tray full of food. S inhaled deeply. The cinnamon buns smelled fantastic. He watched the steam rise from them and curl before fading away into the air.

“Good morning,” S said politely.

“Good morning, honey,” Martha said, giving him a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“I…uh…Merry Christmas,” he said back. He’d nearly said that he didn’t know it was Christmas. He’d nearly admitted to not knowing what it meant.

But neither of the adults seemed to want to comment on his near slip-up. They merely placed the food and drinks on the coffee table. At Martha’s encouragement to “dig right in,” S bit into one of the hot, sticky buns. It was as if every one of his taste buds exploded into a wakefulness they’d never known before. S hungrily ate the bun, then went back for more. Martha smiled with pride as the boy complimented her cooking and ate another bun. She shot a look to Jonathan, but S missed it.

When they were done eating, Martha cleared away the breakfast items. Then she and Jonathan doled out the presents. S was shocked speechless when a small pile of brightly colored boxes began to materialize before him. Surely, he had to be mistaken. Surely, these gifts could not possibly be for him. He was being foolish. He was being a daydreamer. And Trask had always punished him for daydreaming — sometimes with the chunk of Kryptonite, sometimes with extra hours spent being Jenson’s personal science experiment.

“These are for you, son,” Jonathan said, when S failed to move.

S’ gaze moved from the pile of gifts to the famer’s kindly face. “Thank you. But…why?”

“No child should ever have to go without gifts on Christmas,” Jonathan replied, as though it were no big deal. “I know it’s not much, but, well, I thought you could use them.”

“I…I didn’t…I have nothing to give you,” S apologized. Though he’d never received a gift before, he understood how the ritual was performed.

“You already have,” Martha assured him.

“I…did?”

Martha nodded. “More than you know.”

S didn’t understand that. But his curiosity had been roused. At another word of encouragement from Jonathan, he tore open the first of his gifts. A thick, tan winter coat was inside the box, waterproof and lined with sheep’s wool for warmth. It looked just like the one Jonathan had offered him the day before. S had never owned anything so nice in his entire life. He could scarcely believe that this coat was his. True, he didn’t need the item; the cold didn’t affect him. But the thoughtfulness and the kindness behind the gift touched him deeply.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Son, whatever you decide to do — stay or leave — you can’t go about in such a thin jacket. You’ll freeze to death out there.”

“Stay?” S asked, feigning ignorance. He couldn’t let on that he’d heard their conversation the night before.

Jonathan nodded, and admitted to S that he’d spoken with the Sheriff the day before. S did his best to pretend to be surprised. He thought he did a passable job on it too, since neither Jonathan nor Martha seemed to notice that he was faking it.

“You don’t have to answer us right now,” Martha said gently. “But think about it. We’d love you to stay for as long as you like…or are able to.”

S nodded. He could hear the concealed pain in her voice. It seemed to him that she really didn’t want S to be taken away…or to leave of his own free will. It still didn’t help him make up his mind, however. He couldn’t give them an answer just yet.

To give himself a reason not to speak, S turned to the rest of his gifts. He savored the sensation of tearing the paper on each one. He took time to memorize the anticipation of opening each box. Shirts and pants, clothing of all types came out of each present. S had never owned such well-made articles of clothing. All of his had been ill-fitting or threadbare in places, hand-me-downs from Trask’s son, Jason. S was forced to use the same three pairs of pants and three white shirts, each of them emblazoned with the brand Trask used to mark him, until the material grew too small to squeeze into. It didn’t matter if the fabric grew threadbare or full of holes. S simply had to deal with it. But the things that Jonathan and Martha gave him now absolutely amazed S. He’d known that such nice things existed of course, for he’d seen everyone involved in Bureau Thirty-Nine wearing clothing that was much better than his own. He’d just never imagined that he would one day have the opportunity to own and wear similar things.

He thanked them after each gift, as a lump grew in his throat, getting bigger and bigger as each item was unwrapped. Finally, there was only one gift left. S was puzzled. It didn’t look like the boxes he’d opened thus far. This one had an odd shape. He tore the paper from it, revealing a brand-new football. He knew what that was. Jenson had once allowed S to watch part of a game with him when Trask wasn’t around.

S ran his fingertips over the pebbled skin of the ball. His ball. A toy — for all intents and purposes — that was truly his own. Something that wasn’t used to teach him how to be an obedient little soldier. He suddenly felt like the richest twelve year old on the planet. He could not stifle the huge grin that swept over his lips. He could not stop thanking the two people before him.

“If you stay…and I hope you do,” Jonathan said, chuckling at S’ reaction, “I’d like to toss it around with you.”

“I…don’t know how to play,” S said. He hadn’t paid too much attention to the one game he’d seen. He’d been too nervous that Trask would somehow know what he was doing, show up, and punish him.

“That’s okay,” Jonathan reassured him. “I’ll teach you.”

“I’d like that,” S admitted, without consenting to stay.

He wanted to stay now, more than anything in the world. But Trask was still out there. Still a threat. And in all likelihood, hunting for him with that green stone.

When S was done with his gifts, he watched as Jonathan and Martha exchanged theirs. S wasn’t interested in what items were given. But he was riveted in watching the two interact with each other. There was such love between the farmer and his wife, that it seemed almost unreal to S. He’d never before witnessed such depth of emotion. Even the times when S had seen Trask’s wife and son visit the compound where he’d been kept, he’d never seen love like he was seeing now.

The rest of the morning wore on. S grew more and more comfortable in the presence of Jonathan and Martha Kent. And he became more comfortable in their home as well. They offered him the use of their shower, and he took them up on it, changing into a set of his new clothes once he was clean. He liked the feel of the soft red flannel shirt and of the blue jeans. It was so unlike what he was used to.

Martha soon disappeared into the kitchen, preparing the holiday dinner. Wonderful new smells emanated from the room not long after she entered it. S, for his part, was still wrestling with the decision before him. He’d neatly stacked his new clothes in an orderly pile on the bed of the room Jonathan had said was his own as a child. He still had the football with him, and continually ran his fingertips over its surface as he thought, sitting in the living room and staring into the depths of the flames dancing within the hearth.

He was just coming to a decision when he heard it: the sound of an engine coming up the driveway of the Kents’ property.

S’ ears perked up at the sound and his body froze. His thoughts scattered like a flock of butterflies taking wing all at the same time. Jonathan heard the noise too, and went to the window to see who was coming. It was clear that he wasn’t expecting any visitors. S employed his powerful hearing purely by reflex. He paled as he realized who was coming.

Trask had somehow found him.

“Jonathan? Who’s there?” Martha asked, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel.

“Don’t know. Some city-looking fellow from what I can see.”

“Better go see what he wants,” Martha said.

“No,” S said, shaking his head violently. “Don’t.”

“What’s the matter?” Jonathan asked, concerned over S’ sudden fear. The boy’s terror was plain to read on his face and in the way he held his body, ready for flight.

“Trask,” S said, the word coming tremulously from his lips.

“Someone you know?” the farmer asked.

S nodded. “Please, don’t let him know I’m here. He’ll hurt me. Maybe you too. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Now hold on there for a minute,” Jonathan said. “What’s this all about?”

“No time,” S replied, shaking his head. “He can’t know that I’m here.”

“Martha?”

“The storm cellar,” Martha replied. “You go see what this stranger wants. I’ll take care of S.”

Jonathan nodded and S followed Martha’s lead. She took him down a flight of steps to the basement, then to a sunken door. She pulled it open with a little effort, and ushered S down the steps to the fortified storm shelter. She switched on a small flashlight and handed it to S.

“Now don’t you worry, honey,” she reassured him. “We’ll take care of that man. He won’t find you. I promise. Just stay here, and I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

“Okay,” S agreed, his heart hammering in his chest.

Martha shut the door, leaving S alone in a sea of darkness, only the beam of the flashlight alleviating it. He found the far corner and sat with his back against the naked concrete, hugging his knees to his chest. His entire body trembled with fright. He was terrified of what was happening. How had Trask tracked him so quickly? He broadened the scope of his hearing and silently listened to everything around him. He scanned with his x-ray vision, through the layers of concrete that made up the storm shelter, up through the floors of the house.

Jonathan opened the door a second before Cameron could knock.

“Hello there, stranger,” the man said guardedly. “May I help you?”

“I hope so,” Cameron replied. “My name is Cameron Trask. My son ran away from home, and I was wondering if you’d seen him.”

“You aren’t from around these parts,” Jonathan observed.

“No sir, I’m not,” Trask agreed. “But, well, I have to find my boy. I’m desperate. I’ve got my entire…family out looking in every direction for him.”

“I understand,” Jonathan said.

“Here’s a picture of him,” Cameron offered, whipping a creased photograph out of his coat pocket.

Jonathan took the photograph of S and studied it for a moment.

“Nope, can’t say that I have,” he lied easily.

S breathed a small sigh of relief. Jonathan hadn’t betrayed him. He was trying to cover for him. But S’ pulse was still racing, and he still gripped his football as though it had some power to save him. His fingers felt glued to the ball’s laces. He kept listening, kept watching.

“You sure?” Cameron prodded.

Jonathan nodded. “Of course I’m sure.”

“You mind if I take a look around the property?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Suit yourself. Let me get my boots on and I’ll come with you.”

“You really don’t need…”

“I insist.”

Jonathan swiftly tugged on his boots and exited the house, letting the door bang shut behind him. S followed the men with his eyes. Jonathan showed the man his property. The space heater stood as evidence in the shed, S knew. And that worried him.

“My work shed,” the farmer said as Cameron opened the door to peer inside.

“A space heater?” Cameron asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jonathan hummed an agreement. “Gets mighty cold in here sometimes. And my wife and I seem to spend half our days out here.” He pointed to the easel and painting. “She’s taking a course in town.”

“Very nice,” Trask said with faux appreciation.

They went back into the yard. Trask pointed to the tree house that stood in the lone tree in the center of the yard. From the kitchen window, Martha watched the two men, pretending interest in the vegetables she was slicing.

“You have kids?”

Jonathan shook his head. “No. It was never in the cards for us,” he said, his voice heavy. “That house used to be mine.”

“Mind if I take a look inside? Never can tell where a kid might hide out.”

“Be my guest. Nothing but cobwebs up there is my guess though. Maybe an old bird’s nest.”

Trask carefully ascended the wooden planks that served as steps, each one affixed to the tree’s trunk with rusty nails. He peeked in through the windows and opened the door. The hinges squealed their demand for oil. But the ramshackle tree house was empty. Trask eased himself back down the makeshift steps.

“Sorry. I appreciate you allowing me the chance to look.”

“No problem,” Jonathan said, in a tone of forced friendliness.

“Look,” Trask said, slipping a card out of his pocket. Unlike S’ photo, the business card was in pristine condition. “If you happen to see my boy, give me a call, would you?”

Jonathan had no choice but to take the card. He studied it for a moment. “Will do,” he lied again. “Good luck to you.”

“Thanks. Oh, I should warn you. If you see my son, it’s best if you don’t approach him. He’s got mental issues, and he could be dangerous.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jonathan said tightly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I believe Martha’s telling me that dinner is ready.”

Trask didn’t even glance over to the windows. “Sure thing.”

The former Sergeant-Major turned and swiftly went back to his truck. He climbed in and after a moment, the engine roared into life. S heard the truck back up, turn, then rumble away down the road. Yet, he dared not make a move. He hardly even dared to breathe. His heart was slamming against his ribs so violently he couldn’t believe Trask hadn’t been able to hear it. He strained his hearing, trying to ensure that Trask was completely, truly gone. All he heard was the door clang shut as Jonathan stepped back inside, stomping his boots to shake off the snow.

A minute passed, then Martha appeared, opening the door of the storm cellar. He looked up, his eyes wide with his residual fear. But Martha smiled gently, and S found some of his apprehension fading in its warmth.

“Is he gone?” S asked.

“He’s gone.”

S heaved a sigh of relief. Logically, he’d known that was the case. But he’d needed that knowledge confirmed. Martha reached out her hand toward him. S gratefully took it as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Thank you,” S whispered.

In the next second, he found himself in Martha’s embrace. It surprised him. He hadn’t even been aware of what was happening until he felt her arms close around him. A tremor ran through his body; the last of his tension trying to bleed out from him. Martha held him tightly and stroked the back of his head comfortingly.

“Ssh,” she whispered to him.

S closed his arms around the woman, holding her in return. He heard the hitch in her breathing. It didn’t sound frightened or pained, so he assumed it was okay for him to hug her.

“He’s gone,” she told him again. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”

S allowed her to hold him for another long moment, then they both reluctantly let go. S fought down the urge to shed tears, ones that wanted to escape him simply because of the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days. Instead, he followed Martha back through the house to the living room. Jonathan was coming down from the second floor, wearing a dry pair of pants.

Together, the three sat on the couch, and Jonathan recounted all he’d said to Cameron. S nodded thoughtfully, feeling somewhat guilty that he already knew what had been said. But he found Jonathan’s observations intriguing. And he found himself opening up to the questions the Kents directed at him.

“S,” Jonathan said gravely, “I have to know. Who was that man? Was he truly your father?”

“No,” S said. “I don’t have any parents. I don’t have any family at all. That’s what Cameron always told me, anyway. He…Trask…he’s the one who…kept me, ever since I was a baby.” S struggled to find the right words.

“So, he’s been what? Your caretaker?”

“I guess,” S shrugged. “He kept me alive. He doesn’t care about me. He only cares about what he thinks I can do for him.”

“And what is that?”

“He wants me to be his soldier,” S said, knowing his words were grossly inadequate to describe the situation he’d come from.

“And you are afraid of him.”

S nodded. “He hurts me.”

“What does he do?”

S hesitated. How could he describe the pain that the Kryptonite caused him? How could he admit to it, knowing that the stone didn’t affect normal people? But if he was to stay with these people — and he’d finally decided that he wanted to stay more than anything — he would have to come clean. If they tried to do what Trask had done to him, he could find a way to escape. S swallowed hard.

“He has something…a stone…it makes me sick. It makes me hurt all over. He has his men conduct tests on me, tries to see what my limits are before I collapse. He locks me in a cell all night.”

Martha looked positively horrified. “Oh, honey.”

“A stone?” Jonathan was frowning. “I’ve never heard of a stone causing anything like that to a person.”

“Trask says that I’m not a person. He says I’m a…a thing. A creature. An…alien.”

“What?” Martha said, shock washing over her slightly pale face.

“When I broke out of that place…I took a file. It’s with my things. It can probably explain things better than I can.”

S stood and went up the stairs. He wasn’t sure why he was being so trusting of the Kents. It was true that he’d witnessed them cover for him. It was true that they’d been kind to him so far. It was true that they’d fed and clothed him. But it was more than that. It came from someplace deep within his guts, his heart, his mind, whispering to him that he could trust these people. He wondered if that was what instinct was.

He swiftly retrieved the file from his jacket. For a long minute he just stood in the quiet bedroom, looking down at the folder in his hands. He hadn’t opened it before now. The symbol on the front of the folder seemed to mock him, and he wondered, not for the first time, what it meant. Was it merely a brand that Trask had chosen to represent S? Or did it hold some meaning? He suspected that the answer lay in the pages of notes within the folder. Or, at least, he hoped it might be.

With a sigh, S steeled himself and took the file back to the living room. He placed it into Martha’s hands. She looked down at it, then back to S. Her brow was crinkled into an unspoken question.

“I don’t know what it says,” he said simply. “But maybe you can help me.”

“We’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll go to the police if we have to, to take down this Trask person,” Jonathan swore.

S shook his head. “No. I don’t want anyone to know about me. I’m…different.”

“Different?”

“I have these abilities. Like…well…I can run really fast. That’s how I got here. I’m stronger than most of the men in Bureau Thirty-Nine.”

“Bureau Thirty-Nine?” Jonathan asked, more to himself than to S. “Why does that strike a bell?”

“They’re a group…” S started to explain.

“Government,” Jonathan said, as the memory surfaced. “Trask…now I remember why that name sounded familiar. We meet him once before, almost thirteen years ago, at the site of a meteor crash.”

“That’s right,” Martha said, as she remembered the night in question. “Schuster’s Field.”

“This is getting spooky,” Jonathan said, eying the file with interest.

“I don’t think they are with the government,” S said, casting his eyes to the floor. “Trask hates the government.”

Jonathan took the file from Martha and flipped it open. He sucked in a breath as he looked at the heading on the very first report sheet, unmistakably printed in typewriter ink. It proudly declared May 17, 1966, 23:42 hrs.

“Martha…”

“I see it,” she said, her voice shaky.

Neither one of them had ever forgotten the date of the meteor crash. It was just one of those things that a person committed to memory, knowing they’d never witness something like that again in their lifetime.

Most of the evening was spent reading through the file. They stopped only for dinner, of which, no one ate much. Everyone’s thoughts were preoccupied with the file and the information it contained. Jonathan and Martha took turns reading the reports aloud, so that S could know what had been written about him as well. When they got to the dates where he had clear memories of the events, he supplemented the report with his own version of how things had happened.

By the end of the night, S knew a few things with absolute certainty.

He wasn’t a normal child. He wasn’t from Earth. S was an alien. He’d been found in a space ship, which had crashed in a field in Kansas. Jonathan and Martha Kent had been there, had witnessed his ship as it came screaming to the Earth.

The mark that had branded him his whole life hadn’t been of Trask’s twisted mind. It was a sort of sigil, one that had been on the ship he’d arrived in and on the blankets that had swaddled him. S looked with interest at those photographs, which had been photocopied into the file. There was no further explanation of the sigil’s meaning, however, and it was driving S crazy wondering what it could possibly mean.

He also knew now that he had a name — a true name. A name he’d never heard Trask or anyone else ever mention before, not even in the hushed whispers they thought he could not hear. A name presumably given to him by the parents who’d given him life. A name he’d been robbed of in an effort to dehumanize him further in Trask’s insane mind.

His name was Kal-El.

He knew also that he would stay with the Kents, for as long as he could. He trusted them and felt a connection with them. He had no reason to be afraid, sitting there in their quaint farmhouse. They didn’t seem frightened by the abilities he admitted to having, even when he’d demonstrated the newest one — the thin beams of heat that he could summon from his eyes — by using it to light a fresh log in the fireplace.

As he slipped into bed that night, Jonathan and Martha came into the room. Martha tucked him in, then kissed his brow gently.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” she said. “We’ll be just down the hall.”

“Okay.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Jonathan? Martha?”

“Yes, son?”

“Why didn’t you hand me over to Trask today?”

Jonathan sighed. “A few reasons. The first being, of course, how terrified you were of him. I wasn’t going to hand you over to someone who scared you that badly. Not without knowing the whole story. And then, when I spoke to Trask, nothing seemed to feel right. He said his son was missing, but he never expressed any worry for your safety. He wouldn’t even mention your name. He only seemed…eager…to get you back. It didn’t sit right with me.” He shrugged. “Then there was that picture of you. It was crumpled badly. I couldn’t see a loving father pulling out a photograph that was kept in such poor condition. If it were me, I’d treasure a photo of my child and keep it in pristine condition, right in my wallet.”

“Thank you,” S said. “Thank you for keeping my secret.”

“My pleasure,” the man assured him.

“There’s one other thing,” S said.

“Oh?”

“About what you asked me earlier…I really want to stay here with you, if that’s okay.”

Twin smiles blossomed on Jonathan and Martha’s faces.

“Of course it is,” Martha said.

“We’re really glad to hear that. But, well, there’s one thing,” Jonathan said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

S paled a little. Had he been too late in making up his mind?

“What’s that?” he asked, a hint of nervousness tainting his words.

“Well, S isn’t a proper name for a boy. Heck, it’s not a proper name for an animal. Trask called you S as a way to demean you. So, I want you to pick a new name. Anything you want. We can go with Kal, if you’d like, since that’s the name your parents gave you.”

S shook his head. “I know now that’s my name,” he said. “But I don’t want to use that. Trask knows that name.”

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Martha said soothingly. “You can take your time. A name is an important decision.”

S nodded, then spoke again, unable to hold in his question. “Martha? Why don’t you have any kids?”

Martha’s expression grew sad, and S instantly felt sorry for asking. He was about to apologize when she spoke.

“Jonathan and I aren’t able to have children,” she said after a moment, a glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” S said, the sadness in the woman’s voice cutting straight to his heart. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” she tried to reassure him.

“But…if you did…and you had a boy…what would you have called him?”

Jonathan and Martha exchanged a look, one that was tender and a bit wistful. S saw it, and wondered if he’d again said the wrong thing.

“We would have named him Clark,” she answered him.

“Clark,” S said, trying out the name. It felt a little strange on his tongue, but it also somehow seemed to fit. “That’s a really nice name. Would it be okay if I used that name?”

“Honey, we would love it if you used it. We’d be honored, in fact.”

“Clark,” he said again, his voice full of awe. “I’m Clark.”

***

January 12, 1979

Clark nervously sat on the hard wooden chair in the Smallville Town Courthouse. The beaten, saggy green chair pad was too flat to offer any real barrier between his body and the solid oak seat. He didn’t mind it though. He rarely felt any discomfort, thanks to his alien DNA. But today, he was aware of everything. The feel of the wood beneath him, hard and unforgiving. The incessant ticking of the wall clock, which seemed overly loud in the quiet waiting area, even without his enhanced hearing. The overpowering, but comforting, smell of strong coffee as someone brewed a fresh pot. The uneasy way in which Jonathan and Martha sat beside him, their hands nervously entwined.

He hoped with all his heart that the judge would be kind. He hoped with all he had that their petition would be granted. The Kents deserved to have their request fulfilled. They had been so kind, so caring, so generous. He’d felt their love from the very first, though he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. But more surprisingly to Clark was that he had come to love them in return. He’d once wondered if he was capable of knowing what love was. How could he, when he’d been locked away from the world and so badly mistreated? But the Kents had opened a whole new world before him.

He knew love.

He knew what a home was.

He knew what it was to have a family.

The judge they were waiting to see — she couldn’t possibly take that away from him, could she? She couldn’t possibly tear apart the small, budding family, could she? It would be heartless, cruel, a punishment none of them deserved. But then again, Clark wasn’t naive. He’d seen first-hand how easy it was for some to harden their hearts toward others. He’d seen it every day for close to thirteen years. That knowledge put him even more on edge.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent?” the receptionist, a tall, thin blonde named Ginny, called. “Judge Orin will see you now.”

“Thank you, Ginny,” Jonathan said.

The three stood from their seats, and Clark found his hand in Martha’s, as she gave it a supportive squeeze.

“It will be all right,” she whispered to him.

Clark couldn’t find words, his throat bone-dry. He could only nod. But Martha’s words did little to soothe his nerves. He was scared, it was as simple as that. The woman they were about to see would be made privy to a lot of his story. Although Jonathan had tried to reassure him that she was the epitome of discretion, it terrified Clark to have anyone know too much about him. And even if she never told another soul, she still had the power to remove Clark from the Kents’ comfortable home, the only place Clark had ever felt safe and cared for.

Clark followed as they moved from the waiting room into the office of Judge Catherine Orin. He sat uneasily between Jonathan and Martha, as though having them to either side of him would somehow be able to protect him. The thought crossed his mind that, physically, he seemed to be invulnerable. Trask had had him shot at, had had grenades tossed at him, had exposed him to freezing cold and blazing fires. None of that had harmed him. But whatever words the judge spoke today had the potential to destroy him.

The three linked their hands, as a sort of defensive maneuver, and as a way to support one another. Clark looked at the aging woman before him, trying to figure out if she would be kind or not. She appeared to be in her early seventies, with stark white hair and a roadmap of lines on her face. She was thin, but not frail, and exuded an easy confidence. When she smiled, Clark recognized that many of her wrinkles fell into place. What had Martha called them? Laugh-lines? He took that as a good sign.

The judge greeted them in a kind voice. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” they answered back, not quite as one.

“Jonathan. Martha. Good to see you again. Clark, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Let’s get straight down to business, shall we?” Judge Orin said. She glanced over the file before her. “We’re here to decide where to place this young man, correct?”

“That’s right,” Jonathan said.

“Tell me how it is that you came to find one another,” the woman prodded. Then, to Clark, she said, “I promise to make this process as easy as possible.”

They told the woman Clark’s story — how they had found him in their shed on Christmas Eve morning. They told her how Clark was an orphan, with no relatives to turn to. Clark admitted to having no real knowledge of where he had come from, which was true enough. He didn’t know where Bureau Thirty-Nine had been located, in what direction, or how many miles he’d traversed in trying to escape from Trask.

They were forced to divulge that Trask was looking for Clark. The talk around town was about the stranger who had been looking for his missing son. Clark was forced to relate a small portion of the abuse he’d suffered at Trask’s hands, though he left the details sketchy on purpose. He couldn’t tell this woman about the Kryptonite. That would raise too many questions he and the Kents didn’t want to have to answer. The Kents backed up Clark’s claims, detailing the ragged, inadequate clothing he’d been wearing when they found him, and how petrified Clark had become when Trask had come sniffing around their property.

The judge listened carefully, peppering them with questions as they told their tale, trying to dig out further details or to clarify things they had brought to light. Clark could see the woman weighing their words carefully as they spoke, though it was impossible to tell how she felt about what they were saying. A cold knot of fear grew in his stomach. Finally, Judge Orin sat back in her chair, looking deep in thought. She seemed troubled, now that their tale was complete.

“Jonathan? Martha? What is it, exactly, that you are petitioning for today?” she asked quietly.

The Kents exchanged a look, determining who would speak. Jonathan cleared his throat.

“We’d like to adopt this boy,” he said softly. Then he quickly added, “Or, at least, be granted the right to keep him in our home as a foster child.”

“You’ve applied for adoption before,” the judge said, glancing at her paperwork.

“Yes,” Martha said, her voice infused with a hint of sadness. “We were denied, because of our involvement in the Civil Rights movement.”

“And that was…? When, exactly?” Judge Orin’s eyes flickered over the paper, looking for a date.

“About thirteen years ago,” Martha said.

“Yes, yes. I see it here now.” The woman went silent as she read the note. She made an occasional “hmm” to herself as she read. After a minute, she sighed. “Normally, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of fighting against a denial like this. Arrest records aren’t something I ever take lightly.”

Clark’s heart sank.

“But, I’ve known you two for a long, long time. And I’m of the opinion that you would make excellent parents. All you’ve been lacking is the chance. Besides, you both escaped formal charges, though you were jailed overnight on two separate occasions.”

Clark brightened a little inside. Maybe things were looking up.

“Of course, I don’t have all of the authority here. If I did, this would be easy. I’ll have to speak with a few others, if you truly wish to pursue an adoption.”

“We do,” Jonathan said solemnly.

“I can’t promise anything, you know that. But…there are a few things on your side here. The state agency is bursting at the seams, at the moment. They have more children than they can place. Clark’s age is another factor. The chances of an adoption for a boy his age are slim. Personally, I’d rather not see him wind up in the foster care system. I spent four years in the system myself, before I turned eighteen and was turned out to fend for myself. I don’t wish to see this child suffer a similar fate. So…I’m of a mind to do what I can for you.”

Clark felt himself growing ever more hopeful. It sounded more and more like this woman was going to fight hard to keep his family intact.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to have the two of you step out for a few minutes,” she said, gesturing to Jonathan and Martha. “I’d like to speak with Clark, alone.”

Wordless, the Kents retreated from the room, giving Clark hopeful smiles. Clark watched them go, twisting in his chair to do so. Then he turned back around to face the judge, listening to the door shut with a barely audible snick. He was nervous, to be alone with this woman. But she smiled warmly at him.

“I promise not to keep you here long,” she told him in a kind voice. “But I wanted to speak with you in private. I have some questions that I need to ask you. I need you to be completely honest with me. Whatever you say, I will keep confidential. Jonathan and Martha won’t know what you say. Deal?”

“Okay,” Clark said, nodding. “I promise.”

He would tell the truth. Lying was for people like Cameron. And he was never going to be like Trask. He would work hard for the rest of his life ensuring that he became the exact opposite of the ex-Sergeant-Major, and what the man had wanted him to become.

“Good. Now, we’ve heard what Martha and Jonathan want. But what is it that you want?”

Clark was momentarily stunned. He was still so unused to people asking what he wanted. Of course, the Kents had always asked. But after nearly thirteen years under Trask’s tyrannical rule, it was hard to get used to people wanting to know his own desires and not just ordering him around.

“I want to stay with Jonathan and Martha,” Clark said, trying to show the woman how sincere he was. “More than anything in the world, I want to live with them. Please, don’t make me leave them. I need them. They’ve been so nice to me. No one has ever treated me as well as they have.”

The judge nodded. “I see. Just what have they done, that has been so nice?”

Clark smiled at the memories, though they were only made a couple of weeks before. “When I was in their shed, they kept me warm. They fed me. They took me into their home. They gave me Christmas presents, even though they’d only just met me. I didn’t have a coat to wear or clothes other than what I had on, but they bought me things. Nice things. Jonathan’s been teaching me how to play football when it hasn’t been snowing.”

“What else do you do?” Judge Orin asked, scribbling a few notes. She gave him an encouraging smile.

“Well, I try to help them with stuff. I helped Jonathan fix a broken chair leg a couple of days ago. It felt good to be able to help out. And Martha’s been showing me how to cook. I just watch right now, but I like it. Sometimes I watch her paint. And we talk a lot. They’ve been teaching me things, like how to read.”

Judge Orin nodded. “Are you happy there?”

Clark nodded enthusiastically. “The happiest I’ve ever been,” he said, meaning every word with his whole heart. “I feel safe with them.”

Again the woman nodded. “Anything else?”

“I want to be their son,” he said.

The words had been spoken softly, but they exploded into the room and echoed in his mind. He hadn’t even realized he was speaking them until after they’d already tumbled from his lips. But he knew in his heart that he’d never wanted anything so badly in his entire life. He hadn’t even wanted to be free from Trask with such desperation as he felt now. He wanted to not just be Clark, but to be Clark Kent, son of Jonathan and Martha. He wanted to be part of a family, officially, legally, forever.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I love them.”

Judge Orin smiled again, this time even wider and friendlier than before. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. “The Kents are good people.”

“The best,” he agreed, grinning.

“They’ve been dealt a rough hand,” the woman said, looking down at her papers again, and at the damning denial from the adoption agency. She sighed, then pressed a button. “You can send them back in now, Ginny.”

A second later, Jonathan and Martha came back into the room. Clark gave them a small smile, trying to tell them that everything was okay. But they still looked worried. Inwardly, Clark was also worried. Just because Judge Orin had said she’d do what she could, didn’t mean that she would necessarily be successful. The older woman stood behind her desk.

“Well, I think I have everything that I need,” she said.

“What do we do now?” Martha asked.

The judge smiled again. “Go home. Try not to worry. For the time being, I’m granting you custody. Clark is to stay in your home while we try to get this all figured out. Look, I don’t want to get your hopes up. But I know a couple of people. I’m going to call around, see what strings I can pull. I’d like to see this adoption go through just as much as you do.”

“Thank you,” Jonathan said gratefully. “How long before we know anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll try to rush it as much as I can, and I’ll be in touch.”

“We owe you one, Cathy,” Jonathan said.

“Not yet,” she said, winking at them. “Let’s get this matter settled first.”

“I don’t know how we’ll ever be able to repay you,” Martha said.

“You just take good care of Clark, and we’ll call it even,” the judge replied with a smile. “I don’t know, I just feel like this was meant to be. You know what I mean?”

“We do,” Martha said. “We’ve felt that way since the moment Clark came into our lives.”

“In any case, I should get to work on this for you. I have a little time now before my next appointment.”

“Thank you again,” Martha said.

“It will be my pleasure, if I can make you three a family.”

“Thank you,” Clark said, shaking the woman’s hand as she extended it.

Together, the three left the court house. The day had started out in apprehension, but now held a tremulous note of hope buried deeply within it. None of them dared to breathe a sigh of relief, but each of them felt as though a tiny weight had been lifted from their shoulders. All they could do now was wait, and hope, and pray.

***

April 17, 1979

The months since Clark had arrived on the Kents’ farm flew by swiftly. The boy was in love with his new life, easily slipping into the routine of the farm. He was eager to help with anything he could, no matter how menial the task. He’d rush to take out the trash, so that Jonathan didn’t have to do it. He’d get up earlier than his surrogate parents and get the coffee on, once he learned how to do it. He’d race to the mailbox at the end of the driveway to retrieve the mail, heedless of the weather. He helped Jonathan with his chores in running the farm, eagerly asking questions as they worked, and broadening his knowledge. He helped Martha in the kitchen whenever time allowed, when he wasn’t occupied with another task, and found that he enjoyed cooking.

He never complained. He never balked to do anything. In fact, Jonathan and Martha rarely had to ask him to do any task. He wanted to please them. He wanted to make their lives as easy as he could. Part of it, he knew, had been ingrained in him from spending his whole life as Trask’s captive. But it was different, with these people. When he’d tried to please Trask, it was because he’d feared the man so desperately, so completely. With his new family, however, it was because he loved them, and was grateful to them.

Every day of his new life brought fresh joys to Clark. He reveled in watching his very first sunrise as a free man, even though he’d been tired. His breath was stolen away at every sunset, the brilliant colors splashed across the sky seeming more vivid than he ever could have imagined. It was true that he’d seen the occasional sunrises and sunsets from his captivity, but the oppressive sadness of that former life had muted the colors in his mind and had only marked the beginning or ending of another day of torment. Now they marked the passage of time as a free man, well away from Bureau Thirty-Nine.

Every meal was a source of celebration for Clark, as he tried things he’d never imagined before. His meals under the care of Bureau Thirty-Nine had always been bland and uninspired. And rarely had they offered any variety. But Martha’s cooking opened up an entire world of new flavors and new foods. His appetite, once a meager thing, exploded. Clark wasn’t sure if it was only her cooking that kept his appetite peaked, or if his alien DNA demanded more food in order to keep functioning, or if his continually developing abilities were the culprit. He didn’t care either. He knew only that he enjoyed such a vast array of new foods.

And as for Jonathan and Martha, they were continuously shocked at what the boy did and did not know.

He knew the fifty states and their capitals. He could point them out on a map. But he did not know what the states were famous for — that California was the leader in movie and television production, or that New York boasted Broadway stage productions. He knew every country on the planet, who the leader was of each, and their respective titles. But he did not know that George Washington was the first president of the United States. He could not point out Abraham Lincoln when shown a picture of the early presidents. He could easily explain tactical warfare, but had no knowledge that Earth was one of nine planets, let alone their names or that they inhabited the third one out from the sun.

Not even the most basic of things had been taught to him. He knew his numbers, yet he did not possess the knowledge necessary to add or subtract them. He knew the names of colors, but did not know that red and blue combined to make purple, or that blue and yellow made green, or that white light could be broken in a prism to reveal the spectrum of colors that comprised it. He had never been taught how to read. He’d never even been taught the alphabet. He had no knowledge that there were twenty-six letters, or that the same sound could be made using various combinations of letters — that “f” and “ph” could make the same sound. He hadn’t known that the sigil used to mark him looked just like the letter “S,” though it made sense to him in retrospect why he’d been called that all his life.

It broke the Kents’ hearts each time they discovered another thing that Clark should have known, but didn’t. So, with infinite patience, they began to teach him. They started with the very basics, home-schooling him from a kindergarten level. Clark learned quickly, devouring the information offered up to him. The Kents were impressed at how fast he was to catch on to things, and how once he learned something, he seemed incapable of forgetting it again. Clark was an enthusiastic student, never seeming to dislike any of the information or subjects. True, there were some things that he enjoyed more than others. Math bored him, but a book could hold his attention for hours. And above all, once he learned how to write, he never stopped doing it in his spare time.

His earliest attempts were haltingly written, and riddled with errors. But he doggedly pursued it, until his essays and stories became stronger and grammatically flawless. It gave him immense pleasure to write, about everything and anything. He’d summarize a book after reading it, just for the fun of it. He’d write a story that popped into his head, now that his imagination had been set free by the Kents. He even kept a journal, chronicling the events of his day to day life. And as he went into the town with Jonathan and Martha, he wrote about the events he saw there as well.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that writing was what he wanted to do for a living.

And yet, he also wanted to do something positive with his life. He wanted to give back to the world. He wanted to make a difference.

He felt guilty about the ideas Trask had tried so hard to plant in his mind. He felt ashamed over the atrocities Trask had wanted him to commit. He knew he had to find a way to help people, instead of ways to hurt them, even though he’d never actually had the desire to do the things Trask had wanted him to do. Clark wanted to find a way to better society, not through intimidation tactics and destruction, the way Cameron had envisioned, but through helping people solve their problems.

Picking up the morning’s edition of the Smallville Post from the mailbox and skimming the front page, Clark finally had the answer he’d been searching for. He could use his love of writing, and combine it with his desire to help mankind. He would become a journalist. Not the kind who merely reported on what had transpired at a sporting event, or a local harvest festival. He would become almost detective-like, sleuthing out answers to real problems. He would expose the underbelly of society, and use his words and determination to bring justice to people who needed it.

He would become an investigative reporter.

Late that same afternoon, the phone rang. Jonathan spoke to the person on the other end briefly, nodding his head as he did so. But he looked worried. Martha simply wrung her hands, looking torn between letting Jonathan handle whatever the call was about, and picking up the extension. But after a moment, the call ended and Jonathan hung up the phone.

“That was the courthouse,” he said, not bothering to conceal the worry in his voice. “They want us to come down, as soon as possible.”

“Did they give you any idea…?” Martha asked.

Jonathan shook his head. “No. That was Ginny. She said that she doesn’t know anything. Just that Judge Orin wants us to go over there.”

“Jonathan…”

“I know, Martha. I know. But let’s not jump to any conclusions yet, okay?”

Clark closed his eyes, leaning against the wall for support. This was it. For months, his newfound family had simultaneously anticipated and dreaded this day. He had no illusion in his mind that this was merely a call to fill them all in on what progress had been made. No, today, he was certain, he would have his fate decided. Either he would be allowed to stay with the Kents, as their son or their foster son, or he would be violently ripped from the only family he’d ever known. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, if he was taken away from the Kents. He wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened.

He fidgeted in his seat for the entire drive into town. His eyes barely registered his surroundings. He barely heard the various sounds of the engine, the tires on the road, the sighing of the wind beyond the windows. He was only aware of how fast his heart was beating, how twisted into knots his stomach had become. He was also aware of how elevated Jonathan and Martha’s pulses had become. He felt badly about that, and wished he had some way to comfort them. But he was just as nervous as they were, if not more so, and couldn’t find any words to offer them.

None of them spoke on the drive. None of them knew what to say, it seemed. Walking into the courthouse, Clark felt almost as though he were walking back into the compound where he’d spent his whole life. The bright, fresh paint of the place mocked him. The pleasant aroma of strong coffee became oppressive, sickening even. The cheerful face of Ginny, the receptionist, seemed somehow cold and distant. Clark swallowed hard as he sat with the Kents. As before, he situated himself in the middle, as though having them on either side could somehow shield him from an unfavorable outcome. They didn’t have to wait long. Ginny was ushering them into Judge Orin’s office within minutes.

Clark uneasily sat in the same chair he’d sat in months before. He gripped Jonathan and Martha’s hands, making them into one chain. Together, they would face whatever decision was coming their way. The judge was not alone in her office. In a chair, off to one side, the Sheriff sat quietly. Clark wasn’t sure he liked that. Was the man there to ensure that he didn’t try to run away if things went badly this afternoon? Was he there to take Clark away from his family?

“Jonathan, Martha, Clark,” the judge said, greeting them warmly enough. “Sorry to call you out here on such short notice.”

“It’s no trouble,” Jonathan said.

“Well, let’s cut straight to the chase,” the judge said, pulling a file from a stack sitting to her right side. “I have called every single person that I know who could possibly help us with this case. For a long time, I didn’t hear much from them. But this afternoon, I finally got word.”

Please, Clark thought. Please let me stay here with the Kents.

“There were some who questioned my decision to fight for you. There were some who refused to look past your previous adoption denial, and the reasons why.”

Oh no, Clark thought.

But the judge smiled. “Then there were others who felt as strongly as I do about this case. And I am more than pleased to announce that your request has been granted. All we have to do today is fill out some paperwork, and Clark will be your son, legally. I’ve asked the Sheriff to bear witness.”

The words exploded in Clark’s mind.

Son. Legally.

He was going to be able to stay with Jonathan and Martha. And not only that, but they would truly be his parents. He was a permanent part of their family now. He could barely concentrate as they filled out the necessary paperwork, though he was proud to be able to sign his own name. With swift, sure strokes, he set the pen to the paper and signed the places Judge Orin pointed out, alongside his new parents.

It didn’t take quite as long as he thought it would, and soon the judge was putting the papers away again. Clark was elated. He was practically floating, he felt so relieved. He couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop the chuckles that escaped from him as the judge talked with them.

“Looks like you are all set,” the woman told them, after putting the file in a different stack than she’d initially taken it from. “Congratulations,” she said, shaking Martha and Jonathan’s hands. “You two are now parents. And you, young man, are officially Clark Jerome Kent.”

Martha and Jonathan profusely thanked the woman, then hugged each other, drawing Clark into their embrace as well. Clark felt himself swept with emotions. They brought tears to his eyes, and he let them come, feeling no shame in them. Before, in his old life, he’d shed plenty of private tears, when he was alone in his cell at night. But now, for the first time in his entire life, his tears sprang from the greatest happiness he’d ever known.

“We’re all finished here,” the judge said. “You’ll be getting a copy of Clark’s new birth certificate in the mail shortly.”

“I’d say this calls for a celebration,” Jonathan said. “Let’s go get some dinner out. Thank you, Cathy. You have no idea how much this means to us.”

“You know,” she said, smiling gently at the new family, “sometimes, I have to make the difficult decision to break families apart. But this…I really do love this part of my job,” she said, smiling now at Clark. “I love being able to put families together.”

“Thank you,” Clark said, his words feeling too simple to properly express his gratitude. “For everything.” On an impulse, he embraced the woman in a grateful hug.

“You’re very welcome. I trust you’ll take good care of your parents.” She winked at him.

“I’ll be the best son the world has ever seen,” he promised her.

Judge Orin laughed. “I’m sure you will be.”

As they left the courthouse, Clark felt like his feet barely touched the ground. All the months of worry were over. All the tension was gone from him. He had the one thing he wanted in his life. He had a home. He had a family. He had a mom and a dad who loved him fiercely.

He felt like he could take on the entire world.

***

August 16, 1979

“Go long, son,” Jonathan said, a grin lighting up his face. “Farther. No, no. Farther.”

“You sure, Dad?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right…”

Clark backed up even further, his eyes on Jonathan the whole time. He finally felt that he was probably at the edge of his father’s reach. The man let the football fly, and Clark was surprised to find himself running after the ball. He easily outpaced it and positioned himself. The ball sailed right into his waiting arms. Clark smiled and tossed it back, carefully reigning in his strength so as not to hurt Jonathan.

He’d been strong when he’d escaped Trask’s compound, less than a year before. But he had steadily been getting even stronger. At first, it had thrilled him. He felt just like Hercules, who he’d read about in one of the dog-eared books he’d borrowed from the Smallville library. But as the days progressed and his strength grew, it became a hindrance. Everything seemed so fragile and he grew paranoid of breaking things. Already, he’d broken three chairs, seven pieces of lumber as he and Jonathan had repaired the broken fence at the entrance to their property, and countless pencils as he’d concentrated on his home-school work. He wondered when his powers would finally plateau, so he could find his limits and learn to deal with them more effectively.

“Nice catch, Dad,” he said, as the ball easily came to rest in Jonathan’s arms, against his chest.

Jonathan nodded and sent the ball back. It arced as it flew over the dusty yard. But Clark was distracted. He could smell his mother’s apple pie just coming out of the oven. It smelled heavenly, making his mouth water. He turned his gaze toward the house for the briefest of moments. In that same instant, the football sailed by his head, bounced awkwardly on the ground, and came to rest under Jonathan’s truck.

“Sorry,” Clark called over. “My fault. I’ll get it.”

He walked to the truck and squatted down, looking for the ball. It was just under the rear of the vehicle. Clark reached for the ball, grabbed it, and stood back up. He pulled on the bumper of the vehicle as he did so, for what reason, he was never really sure. The entire back end of the truck lifted into the air. Clark dropped the ball in surprise, his mouth hanging open. He’d known he was getting stronger, but he’d never expected this, not even in his wildest dreams.

“Son?” Jonathan said, concerned, jogging over.

“I…I…” was all that Clark could sputter.

“It’s okay, Clark.”

“No, it’s not,” Clark said, setting the car flat on the ground again, trying to be careful with it. “I hate this. I’m a freak, Dad.”

“No, you’re a very special boy, that’s all.”

“I am a freak,” he pressed. “I’m scared to touch anything. I’m afraid to touch you and Mom. I’m a disaster waiting to happen. A ticking time bomb. Maybe Trask was right to want to keep me locked up,” he finished in a whisper.

“Don’t ever talk like that,” Jonathan said firmly. “What Trask did to you is an unforgivable crime. What he wanted to do with you is monstrous beyond words.”

“But, Dad…”

“No buts. Now, you know me. I’m not one to get preachy. But, I’m a firm believer that we all have gifts and talents. It’s how we use them that’s the key.” Jonathan ushered Clark to the porch steps. They both sat, Jonathan with his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “You have these powers, these gifts, and I believe that you’ll find a way to control them. It may take time, but one day, I believe keeping control will be as natural to you as breathing.”

“You really think so?”

Jonathan nodded. “I do.”

“Why me?” Clark softly lamented. “All I want is to be normal. But…I never will be, will I? I’m not human.”

“Clark, you’re more human to me than some Earthlings I can think of. And I don’t have all the answers,” Jonathan said quietly. “I mean, Trask’s file told us the reasoning behind your abilities. How the sun fuels your Kryptonian body and makes these powers manifest. But why it has to be that way…I don’t know. Maybe you’re meant to have them, the same as some people are meant to be good at math, or at sports.”

“Yeah, but people can get jobs using their skills in math, Dad. I’m not sure how being able to lift a car will ever serve me any good. Unless I want to get work as a sideshow freak.”

“I don’t know. But I have a strong gut instinct that you’ll figure it out someday. Come here, give me a hug.”

Clark paled and his nervousness came back. “I…can’t.”

“Sure you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

“You won’t.”

“Aren’t you afraid of me? I’m afraid of me. Every time I go to sit down, or pick something up, or throw a ball, I’m terrified that I’m accidently going to pulverize it.”

“No,” Jonathan said. “I’m not afraid. I trust you.”

Jonathan reached over and embraced his son. Clark went board-stiff at first, but after a moment, he relaxed and gently returned Jonathan’s hug. He let out a quavering breath as he did so. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he would get the hang of his strength with some hard work and patience.

***

November 2, 1979

Clark Kent stood staring at the smoldering ruin of what had once been his father’s work shed. The smoke curled lazily even as the rain beat down. Guilt tore at his heart as he sulked behind the living room window, his hair and clothes still dripping wet, despite the layers of towels his mother had wrapped him in.

It had all been his fault.

He hadn’t meant to start a fire. He really hadn’t. But it had happened anyway. He just couldn’t understand why his parents weren’t furious with him. They had lost a lot of tools and several of his mother’s paintings that had been in varying stages of completion.

He’d been helping Jonathan in the shed. Jonathan had been sharpening his axe in preparation to split some more wood to last through the winter, now that a large oak had fallen over on the western-most edge of their property. Clark had been trying his own hand at painting, and not succeeding at all, if he was any judge. He’d been concentrating so hard that his heat vision had kicked in.

One minute, he’d been trying to paint a picture of their farmhouse at night. The next moment, the canvas had been on fire. There had been a draft from the door, which had stood slightly ajar as Jonathan ground the axe blade on a sharpening wheel. A spark from the canvas had blown away from Clark, unnoticed, as he used his burgeoning super breath to blow out the flames. The spark had wafted onto a bale of hay, alighting it almost instantly. In the blink of an eye, the whole corner of the shed had been ablaze.

He’d gotten his father safely out of the shed before going back in. He’d tried using his breath to snuff out the flames. But the fire had been intense and his newest power had been unreliable at best, coming and going in fits and starts. It had taken him far longer than he’d thought it would. By the time he’d gotten the fire under control, half the shed had been scorched. Clark still counted himself lucky that it had been raining heavily. The pounding raindrops had helped to quench the fire until, between it and his own efforts, the blaze had died.

He felt horrible, standing there, watching the rain beat down. He’d ruined everything. Why did Jonathan and Martha even put up with him? He was a walking disaster area. Trask and the rest of Bureau Thirty-Nine had been right to be afraid of him. He could probably — no, definitely — kill someone without meaning to, if he wasn’t careful. How could these simple farmers trust him as easily, as wholly, as they did? He couldn’t understand it.

He’d thought he’d gotten most of his powers under control. His heat vision had been one of the more difficult ones to summon up, until now. He’d always needed to work so hard to use it. But now, it had all of a sudden become frighteningly easy to call upon. He’d need to work extra hard to find the right balance within himself, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again.

“Mom…Dad…” he said, turning away from the smoldering ruin beyond the window. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“Oh, honey, it’s not your fault,” Martha tried to soothe him.

“It is my fault,” he asserted. “I’m the one who started the fire.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan said, shaking his head. “All that matters is that we’re all okay.”

“But that’s just it!” Clark said. “How easy would it have been for you to get hurt out there, Dad? Nothing can hurt me, except for that stone Trask has. But I can so easily hurt others, even without meaning to.”

“Clark…”

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t keep going like this. Maybe it’s best if I…I don’t know…go away for a while, until I’m sure that I’m not a threat to anyone anymore.”

“Clark Jerome Kent,” Martha said, her voice turning sharp. Clark winced to hear his full name used like that. “Don’t you even dare to entertain the notion of running away. We’re your parents. You’re our son. We’ll help you get through this.”

“Mom…”

“No. Not another word about it,” Martha said, crossing her arms and effectively shutting the conversation down.

Clark sighed. After a moment, he dragged his hand through his sopping wet hair. “Well…then…”

“Yes?” Jonathan prodded.

“I have to find some way, I guess, of reminding myself of these powers. Sometimes, I forget. I stare too hard at something and x-ray right through it. Or I wind up setting things on fire,” he said, unhappily shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Like a string around the finger type of reminder?” Jonathan asked, plucking his glasses off and using the edge of his shirt to clean a spot off one of the lenses.

“Or a pair of glasses,” Clark said, watching his father’s movements. “If I had to remove a pair of glasses from my eyes in order to use my abilities…that might just do the trick. And the added weight and upkeep of frames might just remind me enough so that I don’t accidently use them right through the lenses. Plus, I’d fit right in with others. You and Mom both wear glasses. So does half of Smallville. Who would imagine that I have the vision powers that I do if I’m pretending to be near-sighted?”

“You might be on to something,” Jonathan said, smiling and putting his glasses back on. “Tomorrow morning we’ll take a look in the basement. I think I might have some old frames in a box. Your mother makes me keep everything. I know I have some leaded glass down there too. We’ll make you a pair of glasses from that. The lead should help prevent you from x-raying through things, at the very least.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clark said, smiling for the first time since the fire had flared into life. “And after that, I’m going to help you rebuild the shed.”

***

July 28, 1984

Clark was terribly, terribly nervous. In just a few short weeks, he would be heading off to college, to study his one true passion, journalism. He was excited, of course, to pursue his dream of one day becoming a reporter. And he was more than ready to play college football. Already, he could hear the roar of the crowd in the brisk fall air, cheering on their favorite team and players. He could almost feel the solid weight of the football as it crashed into his arms as he caught it. But to do so, he would be leaving behind the people he loved most. And that made him very uneasy.

Ever since he’d stumbled into the Kents’ work shed by chance one Christmas Eve, he’d never been apart from them, not for extended periods of time. Oh, he’d spent the night at a friend’s house on occasion, once he was sure his powers were under control. He’d gone to school in town, spending his days in classrooms just like any other normal boy. He’d participated in sports, which had demanded that he sometimes spend the night elsewhere to play against another high school. But never had he gone so far away as he was now preparing to. Never had he spent more than a day or two away from his parents.

That wasn’t even to mention the worry he had over the newest of his powers, which had manifested that morning.

He’d been asleep in his bed when he’d bumped his head. Of course, it hadn’t hurt, but it had immediately woken him from his dreams. He’d opened his eyes to find himself staring down at his bed, his back against the ceiling. He’d instantly panicked, and had come crashing down on the mattress, hard. He’d been lucky he hadn’t broken the bed. For a long time, he had sat there on his floor, his back against the bed, the same thoughts running through his mind over and over.

I was floating. I was floating. I was five feet above my bed and floating. What am I going to do? How will I hide this from my roommates? I can’t believe I was actually floating.

And yet, now, as he stood out in the secluded back field of his parents’ farmland, his fear melted away. He actually longed to experience the sensation again. Despite his initial surprise, the sensation of floating had felt really, really good. Logically, he knew it was completely and utterly unnatural. But it felt natural to him anyway.

He just wasn’t sure how to go about defying gravity. With a chuckle, he thought of Peter Pan. Peter had used pixie dust and happy thoughts in order to achieve flight. But that wasn’t going to help in Clark’s case. He tried relaxing, but as the gray of pre-dawn retreated before the blues and pinks of a fresh sunrise, he grew only more frustrated, and his peace of mind shattered. Finally, he funneled his thoughts, trying to consciously lift his body from the ground. That didn’t work either.

He was just about to give up and head indoors again to get breakfast started when his feet unexpectedly rose off the grass. Elated, Clark reveled in the sensation. He knew that, logically, it should have made him uneasy. But somehow, it didn’t. If anything, it comforted him. He liked the feeling of floating there, three inches above the ground. He tried to go higher, and found it easier than anticipated. Clark’s grin grew as he started to experiment with moving around.

He took it slow, at first. Up, down, forward, back. It was easy. He gradually picked up speed, wondering if his ability to travel so quickly would also work with his newfound ability of flying. He allowed himself a burst of speed, and took off like a shot. He laughed as he zoomed away, pleasantly surprised to find that it seemed like he could move even faster in the air than he could on land. He wondered how high he could go, and changed the angle he was moving in. He sharply gained altitude. The land fell away at a dizzying pace, until his house was no more than a black spot against the broader backdrop of Kansas.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked out over the land. The cultivated fields spread out beneath him like a patchwork quilt of varying colors, mostly shades of green and brown, some golden, and some black with freshly upturned soil. Roads spread out like ribbons in every direction, connecting the ant-sized houses and model-toy towns. A flash of metal caught his sharp eyes — a lone car heading into town at that early hour. Clark decided to climb even higher, pushing his newfound power to whatever limits it had.

The higher he went, the colder it became. He felt it, but it did not bother him, though his glasses started to frost over. He pulled them off and stuffed them in the breast pocket of his shirt. The air grew thinner too, and that did present a slight problem. Alien though he was, he still needed oxygen to breathe. But he had long ago learned that he was capable of holding his breath for a good twenty minutes. He did so now, as he left the last reaches of breathable atmosphere.

Soon, he was free of the Earth. He was outside the atmosphere. He was in space. All around him was vast, inky blackness, studded with stars and distant planets. He hovered, suspended in place, trapped in between the Earth and the rest of the universe. It was peaceful here. It was quiet. He strained his hearing to its very limit, but all he heard was distant echoes of the world he’d left behind. He felt that he could grow to like it here, and that perhaps it could be a place to escape to when he needed a moment to think.

He stayed for a moment, simply staring out into the vastness of the universe. Up this far, he could see far more stars than he could when earthbound. Or, at least, it felt that way to him. He looked at the moon, and wondered if he could fly fast enough to reach it, though he dared not try. He might reach it, but not have breath enough to make it back. He zoomed his vision in a bit, sweeping his eyes across the reaches of space. He could make out the reddish glow of Mars as it reflected back the sun’s rays. He could see the yellowish tint of Venus.

Krypton.

The word came unbidden to his mind. Which, if any, of these brightly glowing specks of light was the planet where he’d been born? Could he even see it from here? Was it beyond the reaches of the galaxy he resided in? Would he ever find a way to gaze upon his home world?

He shook his head. No. Not his home world. Earth was his home. It was the place where he’d grown up. It was where his friends were. It was where he’d found his family.

Family.

Did he still have blood relatives on Krypton? Was there a sister out there, wondering where her brother was? Was there a brother there, trying to find out what had happened to him? What of his parents? Did they wonder about him? Did they know that he’d survived the trip to Earth, an infant packed away in a tiny spaceship, sent through the endless coldness of space? Did they know he’d crashed on Earth? Had he been stolen from them, sent away by some villain? Or had his parents sent him away? Why? Had they not cared about him? Had they sent him away to escape some evil? Had he been some bizarre type of sacrifice, offered to some unknown god they believed ruled the universe?

He had no answers to these questions. And, he guessed, he never would. How was he to ever find out his origins, if he had no way of finding Krypton, let alone reaching it somehow? It made him sad, lonely, and frustrated, all at once.

He tore his gaze from the stars surrounding him and looked toward the Earth again. The world lay spread out, far beneath his feet. He could see the gentle curve of the globe, could see the land and sea as vague shapes through the haze of distance. He could see the faint distinction where the atmosphere began, could see the rim awash in a whitish-blue glow from the sun. He could see the white swirls of clouds, hanging above the Earth’s surface. A flicker of light caught his eye and he looked toward it. Florida was getting a severe electrical storm, from the looks of things. And further down south, out in the ocean, a tropical storm was brewing. Clark could see the distinctive shape of the clouds.

Up this high, the world looked peaceful. It looked still. Up this high, there was no evidence of war or injustice or poverty. There was no evidence of crime or of suffering. There was no pollution up this high. Clark liked it.

And yet, being where he was, hanging in space, looking down on his home, it only hammered in the fact that he was alone. Different. Isolated. An alien.

His air supply was growing inadequate. His lungs were beginning to ache and burn. He would have to take in a fresh breath of air soon. In a way, it startled him. He hadn’t realized that he’d spent so much time there already. With a mental sigh, he turned and headed back. He sped away, knowing he’d need the speed to avoid the detection of anyone who might chance a glance at the sky and see the flying man. The last thing he needed was to blow his carefully maintain guise of being just another regular guy.

He still had nightmares sometimes, about the days he’d lived as Cameron Trask’s prisoner. He’d awoken more than once to find himself covered in a sheen of sweat, his heart thudding against his ribs. Though Clark knew that the police had searched for Trask, he’d never been found. Bureau Thirty-Nine had seemingly vanished into thin air. And even if Trask and his crew had been found, it didn’t matter much. If Clark’s true nature was ever discovered, there would no doubt be some other scientist ready to dissect him like a frog, or parade him around as the freak that he was.

Step right up! Step right up! Come see the incredible alien freak, his mind bellowed at him, in the voice of a carnival barker. See him bend steel with his bare hands! See him bounce bullets off his chest! See him levitate right before your very eyes! Step right up! Step right up!

Clark was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize how quickly he was approaching the ground. He tried to stop, but only managed to slow down. He scrambled a bit, but his efforts were too late in coming. He smashed violently into a large rock on the very edge of the Kents’ property line, which they had affectionately named “The Boulder.” The Boulder exploded into a million pieces, and Clark finally found himself stopped. He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, thankful no one had witnessed that, with the exception of a few curious squirrels that chattered unhappily at him from a maple tree.

“Gotta work on landing,” he said to himself, dusting himself off as best he could.

With that, he sped away toward the farmhouse, knowing that it had to be getting late. His parents would be getting up, and he had to get to his chores. As he skidded to a halt and entered the house, the delicious odors of his mother’s cooking filled his nostrils. He inhaled deeply, committing the smell to memory. Pretty soon, he reminded himself, he’d be forced to eat less than appetizing cafeteria food.

“What happened to you?” Martha asked as Clark shuffled into the kitchen. Her eyes were wide with surprise and concern.

Clark shrugged. “Well…Mom, Dad…I’ve got some good news and some bad news. The bad news is, The Boulder isn’t there anymore. The good news is, you’ve now got a couple hundred pounds of gravel up in the back field that you can sell.”

***

November 4, 1987

“Kent, you are a damn machine!”

Clark snorted a laugh. “Thanks, Willy.” He clasped his friend and roommate on the shoulder.

“No, seriously, man, that was some incredible football playing. What’s your secret?”

“What can I say? I had a good day.”

Clark shrugged and sat on the wooden bench in the locker room, his teammates all around him in various stages of undress. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little from its current style of being plastered to his head from his helmet.

“A good day?” Willy Thompson said, snorting in disbelief. “That’s the third record you’ve broken in four years.”

“Like I said,” Clark said, squirming a little under his dark-skinned friend’s gaze, “I just had a good day. Last game, it was Jake Nelson who had a good day.”

It was the truth — he knew that in his heart. He’d never once used his powers to give himself an edge in anything before, tempting as it sometimes was. He wanted to earn things on his own merit. And his parents had instilled in him a firm moral compass, one that was decidedly opposite from what Trask had once tried to force upon him. Plus, Clark would never do anything to blow his carefully constructed facade of normalcy. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself in any way.

Of course, that was often difficult as quarterback of the football team. Especially when he had good days, like today. Everything had just fallen into place, and Clark had managed to set his third record. He didn’t know how it had happened. Maybe the planets had aligned or something. He hadn’t even been aware of what had been happening until after the game had ended and Midwestern State University had won.

“Yeah, well…I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Willy. I appreciate that. You wanna grab some dinner with my folks and me in a bit?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“You know, it’s nice that your family comes to see you play when they can.”

“Yeah. Just lucky I guess. Let me guess, both of your parents are on call this weekend?”

“What else?” the other man said, shrugging as if it were no big deal, though Clark knew otherwise.

Clark felt a twinge of remorse for his friend. Willy’s mother and father were both respected doctors in New York. And while Willy was proud of them, it often meant that one or both of them were unable to attend their son’s football games.

“Well, I’m more than happy to share my family with you,” Clark said, giving his roommate a smile. “And so are they.”

Clark stripped off his dirty jersey, tossing it to one side. He headed toward the showers, more than eager to have the hot water rolling over his body. He wasn’t tired, and he hardly ever broke a sweat, at least not due to heat or physical exertion. But it always felt good to have the hot water on his muscles anyway. The spirit of competition sloughed off his body with the water, refreshing him in every way. He showered quickly, joking with his teammates over the splash of water. Then he swiftly dried and dressed.

He was repacking his gym bag and ensuring that he hadn’t left anything in his locker when his coach approached him. He gave Clark a smile and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Kent, you have no idea how proud I am of you today.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“You keep playing like that and you’ve got a shot at playing professionally.”

“That…wow…that would be something,” Clark said, growing uncomfortable again. But before he could say anything else, his friend Chris Wilson caught the coach’s eye and the man went off to speak with him.

It would be amazing to play pro ball. He knew that, deep in his heart. And maybe some small part of him liked the idea. He certainly loved the game. And who wouldn’t want a shot at winning a Super Bowl or two? But he also knew that he didn’t want to let go of his dream to be an investigative reporter. He truly felt like that was his calling in life. As much as he loved sports, his true passion was writing. And through his writing, he could change countless lives.

Perhaps, he thought, it was time to stop playing ball so well. Oh, he would still help his team win as many games as he possibly could. He would make the most out of his senior year. And he would savor the triumph of this moment, because this would be the last record he would ever break. He would make sure of that.

His mind made up, Clark left the locker room, his gym bag slung casually over his shoulder. His parents had flown into Metropolis for the game. Or rather, he had flown them in late the night before. They tried to make every one of his games, and for that, he was thankful. It was nice to know that they were out there, in the stands, cheering him on. They would be waiting for him, somewhere out in the vast chaos of the emptying Metropolis Stadium, ready to congratulate him and go get some food. He nodded to various players from the Metropolis University football team as their paths crossed.

“Excuse me!” a young woman’s voice cried out, as Clark made his way across the field.

Clark heard the rush of footsteps behind him. A moment later, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He stopped and turned.

His heart stopped along with his feet.

Before him stood the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She had long brown hair that tumbled down her back and shimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. And her eyes! Clark felt that he could get lost in those twin chocolate pools. He could drown in them, and die a happy man for it. But her crisp suit and ready pad of paper told him she was there to interview him, not because she found him attractive. Although, he thought, one could always hope for both.

“Can I help you?” Clark asked, his tongue feeling dumb and unskilled in her presence.

“Lois Lane. Reporter for the Metropolis University paper. I’d like to interview you, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing,” he said, giving her his best smile. He turned and led her to an unoccupied stretch of bleacher seats. “So, you’re a sports journalist?” He was proud of himself for keeping the surprise out of his voice.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her hair bounced with the movement, entrancing Clark. “I’m filling in for today. The usual sports writer had to go home this weekend to attend his brother’s wedding.”

“I see,” Clark said, sitting down and setting his gym bag aside. “Well, I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

“Thanks,” Lois said, turning her attention to the list of questions she had with her.

“No problem.”

Lois started in with her questions. Or, rather, Clark suspected that they weren’t exactly her questions. She had probably gotten them from the regular sports reporter. He could tell by the way she stumbled over some of the terms. Although, he had to admit, she did seem pretty comfortable with most of what she was saying. Perhaps she had a brother who played ball. Or maybe, Clark thought with a sigh, she had a boyfriend who played. He didn’t know why, but that idea made him a little sad. He’d only just met her. It wasn’t like he had any right to feel jealous if she did have a boyfriend.

He answered her questions as well as he could, trying to give her the best possible quotes for her article. As an aspiring reporter himself, and member of his own school’s paper, he knew the importance of having good quotes. If Lois realized what he was doing, she didn’t let on that she knew. Clark didn’t mind. It was a thrill just to be sitting and talking with such an incredibly beautiful young woman. It was more thrilling than knowing he’d set another record.

What questions she asked, he couldn’t recall afterwards. Though he gave her his full attention and his very best answers to her queries, his mind was not on the interview. It was solely fixed on Lois. How her eyes sparkled with the love of what she was doing. How the sun framed her, outlining her in a halo of golden rays, highlighting her features. The sound of her voice as she spoke with him. The sound of her laughter when he cracked a joke or two. The way she moved, ever so gracefully.

By the end of the interview, Clark was certain of only one thing.

He was in love with Lois Lane.

***

July 22, 1988

Clark woke in the middle of the night, unsure of what had shaken him from the dreamless, peaceful sleep he’d been enjoying. He looked over at the bedside clock, the large red digits informing him that it was 4:15am. Groggily, he realized he only had a few more hours of sleep ahead of him before he’d be expected to show up for work at the Smallville Post. He lay back down and closed his eyes, trying to fall back to sleep.

A light appeared in his bedroom, searing right through his eyelids as surely as the sun. Clark sat up, rubbing the sleep from his heavy-lidded eyes. He looked over his room, his eyes going to the small box he kept on his bookshelf. Light spilled out from beneath the lid, so intensely bright and white that Clark had to squint.

But he felt drawn to the light in the same moment. It was almost magnetic, in a way. Clark felt himself getting out of bed and shuffling toward the box, without the conscious effort to do so. He crossed the room and hesitated before his bookshelf. He reached out to the box and let his hand hover above the lid for a long moment. There was only one thing in that box.

The globe.

He’d nearly forgotten that it was there. For years now, it had been sitting in that box, as the lid gathered dust and Clark had become busy with his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken it out to look at it. He wasn’t even certain which map the globe showed — that of Earth or that of Krypton. Clark had lost his fascination with it.

But never before had the object glowed with its own light. Not since he had taken it on the night he’d escaped from Trask’s compound. Then, the globe had briefly illuminated and the map face had changed from Earth to Krypton, the word whispered in his mind from some unknown source. Since then, the globe had laid dormant, no matter how many times Clark had picked it up, held it, examined it, contemplated it, or utterly ignored it.

Until now.

Clark unlocked the box and flipped open the lid. Light exploded into the room as the globe was exposed. Clark was awestruck. He reached in and grasped the globe with a gentle, yet firm, grip. He pulled it from the box and held it in his palm, shuffling backwards until he could sit upon his bed again.

Suddenly, before him, the image of a man appeared in three-dimensional form. It was a hologram. Clark was momentarily stunned. He had thought that the technology needed to achieve such a highly perfected image only existed in science fiction. He quickly assessed the image before him. The man was maybe his parents’ age, perhaps a few years older. He was dressed all in white, the sigil of the house of El wrought on his chest with silver. He looked somehow stately. Regal, even.

But what was more, was that Clark found the man to be familiar looking, in a way. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the man before in his life. At least, he had no conscious memory of it. Yet, there was something about him that felt familiar. Then it hit Clark. The man looked a bit like him. He had some of the same features. The eyes were similar, as was the man’s hair. He had the same jaw line. He held himself the same way Clark did.

Clark was stunned. Who was this man?

But his thoughts were scattered as the man began to speak. His voice was strong and gentle at the same time. It was soothing, yet Clark could not miss the intensity with which the man spoke. This was an important message, Clark instinctively knew.

“My name is Jor-El. And you are Kal-El, my son.”

Clark’s mouth hung open. This man…could this truly be his father? Could this be the man who had given him life?

“The object you hold has been attuned to you. That you now hear these words is proof that you survived the journey in space and have reached your full maturity. Now it is time for you to learn our heritage. To that end, I will appear to you five times. Watch for the light, listen, and learn.”

That sounded almost like the conclusion of a speech to Clark, and he silently begged the hologram not to leave him just yet. He had so many questions. He wanted to learn. He wanted to know who he was. It sounded like this man — Jor-El — had known that Clark was being sent to Earth. It sounded perhaps, like it was of his own doing. And Clark desperately wanted to know the reason why, even if it was that his father couldn’t care for him. He needed to know, to have his curiosity sated.

The image before Clark widened out, like a movie. Clark could see the planet of Krypton, hanging almost motionless in space. A scattering of stars beyond the planet could just be seen on the edges of the image. Then, it changed, revealing Jor-El in some kind of laboratory, it seemed. He was standing before some kind of console, various lights and images on it. Clark could see some form of writing, but it didn’t look like any language he’d ever seen before. He couldn’t read it.

Jor-El was busily at work at the console. Clark wasn’t sure just what the man was doing. But he seemed to be frantic, in the way that he moved, the impatience he seemed to exude. Clark wondered what was going on. Jor-El’s voice continued to speak, though the image of him did not move its lips.

“Time grows short and we continue to search. The immensity of space is both a blessing and a curse. In that near infinite variety there must be someplace suitable.”

Suitable? For what? Clark wondered.

“Hope and desperation drive us in equal measure.”

Us? Who was “us?” Did Jor-El have an accomplice? Maybe a lab assistant?

A tall, elegant woman strode into view, joining Jor-El at his side. Clark was surprised to recognize bits of himself in her as well. And he knew. This woman, whoever she was, was his mother. She was the woman who’d given birth to him.

“Lara works by my side. She is tireless and endlessly patient,” Jor-El continued. “Considering what is soon to come, this is my greatest consolation: that we are together.”

Clark watched in rapt fascination as the image in the hologram shook violently. Jor-El and Lara clutched each other, while the console lights flared into a new pattern. Perhaps it was reading the intensity of the tremor. Perhaps it was a delayed warning. Perhaps it was nothing but jumbled static. But soon enough, the shaking stopped, the lights also returning to normal.

Just what had happened?

But Clark was to find out no more answers. At least, not that night. The hologram retreated back into the globe and the light died. For a long while, Clark stared at the object, trying to will it to show him more of the story. Nothing happened. At last, Clark put the globe away and retreated back beneath his blankets.

Sleep would not come to him, his mind too busy replaying what he’d seen over and over again.

***

August 1, 1988

Tears streamed down Clark’s face as he sat alone in his room. The globe was in his hand, the hologram faded away into nothingness. It had just shown him the fifth and final message from Jor-El. Clark had witnessed as his biological parents put him into his spaceship, an infant they had probably barely gotten to know. He watched as his father pressed the command button that sent the ship rocketing away from the planet’s surface. He saw as the ship cleared Krypton’s atmosphere, and not a moment too soon.

For a long moment, the planet hung, suspended in space. It seemed so quiet, so peaceful. In the next second, it was gone, in a flash of light and a violent explosion. Clark saw pieces of the planet, now glowing green, rush out into the universe in every direction. Some raced his own ship, caught in the ship’s wake or by chance, he couldn’t tell. But he knew that those chunks of stone were pieces of Kryptonite, the only substance he’d ever encountered that could cause him pain and make him vulnerable.

Clark’s heart was broken as he sat there, in the middle of the night. He knew now, that he hadn’t been abandoned. His parents — his biological parents, that is — had loved him so fiercely that they had done the only thing they could do to save his life. That was a great relief to him.

He had been loved. He had been wanted. Just as the Kents loved and wanted him, so had his biological parents.

But the relief he felt was tempered by an immense sadness. And even more questions popped up into his mind.

His parents had saved him. Why hadn’t they saved themselves? Had it been lack of time? Had they chosen to stay until the bitter end? If they had, why? Had anyone else sent their child to Earth? Or even, to another planet? Was he truly the last son of Krypton, as Jor-El had called him? Or were there other survivors out there somewhere? If there were, would he ever find them? Would it be strange or comforting to meet another who shared his heritage?

He didn’t regret the decision Jor-El and Lara had made. They had saved his life. And, by extension, they had also changed the lives of Jonathan and Martha Kent. He knew the decision couldn’t have been easy for the two people who had given him life. They possessed a strength Clark wasn’t sure he would ever have, to be so incredibly selfless. He wished only that they hadn’t needed to die. He wished only that he could remember them. But the people in the globe were no more than strangers who shared his features.

***

March 1, 1990

“Son, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Jonathan pleaded. “We can figure something out.”

Clark shook his head. “No, Dad. I really screwed up this time.”

“No,” Jonathan argued.

“Look, I don’t like it anymore than you do. But I don’t see what other choice I have.”

“Son…”

“We’ve been over this, Dad. We’ve always known that this was a possibility.”

“No one saw you, Clark.”

“That little girl did.”

“She’s five, Clark,” Martha put in. “Do you think anyone is really going to put any stock in what she has to say?”

“It doesn’t matter, Mom. Whether she was five or fifty-five, I screwed up. I was seen. All it would take is for one rumor to start flying around…”

“That’s all it would be. A rumor,” Martha insisted. “All we’d have to do is deny it, pretend we have no idea what people are talking about.”

“You mean lie.”

“Not exactly,” Martha said, squirming in her seat, knowing how much her son hated to fib. “But really, if we laughed it off as impossible, who would believe what the girl might say? Besides, those people aren’t even from around here. You said yourself that the car had California plates.”

Clark paced before his parents. He was in their living room. A fire blazed merrily in the hearth, though it did not cheer Clark at all. Beyond the windows, a heavy snow was falling and night was coming on. The snow had been responsible for the entire dilemma he was now facing.

He’d spent the day out on the trail of a story for the Smallville Post. The weather had grown cloudier by the minute. People had begun to leave work earlier than usual, wanting to get home before the storm hit. The temperature had plummeted and the wet roads had begun to freeze up. Clark had known that he needed to call it a day as well. He’d never get the information he needed. So he had started for home.

Normally, he drove into town in his beat up little car, an aging and dented Chevy he’d bought second-hand. But not this day. The weather forecasters had stressed that the storm would be bad, and Clark hadn’t been willing to chance driving. So he had flown in, carefully ensuring that he avoided detection. He had more than enough experience in doing so. He had his takeoff and landing points all picked out, places where no one would ever see him come or go.

He’d left the office that afternoon, headed to the alleyway behind the building when he was sure no one was looking, and had taken off like a rocket. Once he was high enough up, and far enough from town, he’d allowed himself to slow down. The wind and cold didn’t bother him in the slightest bit. He had enjoyed the flight, until he heard the screams.

They had reached his ears, triggering his sensitive hearing. He had stopped in midflight, hovered, and searched for the source of the sound. He had pulled off his glasses, shoved them into the pocket of his winter coat, and began to search, zooming in with his powerful vision. Finally, he’d pinpointed the source. Five miles up the road, a car had hit a stretch of black ice. It was out of control, sliding across the lanes, and heading for a collision with a skidding delivery truck.

Clark hadn’t even thought about anything. He’d simply reacted. He’d sped toward the impending disaster, hoping he’d reach the car in time. As he got close, he overshot the car, changed his angle, and dove. He’d crouched behind the rear bumper of the car, trying to stay out of view. Carefully, so as not to leave impressions where his fingers were, he’d guided the car back into the correct lane of traffic, then ensured that it was no longer on ice.

He’d flown off as soon as he was satisfied that the car was no longer in immediate danger, hiding in a heavy gray cloud. The snow was failing so thickly that it had been a challenge for him to see anything, which he had assumed would also serve to hide him as well. The car and the truck both came to skidding halts, each driver pulling to the side of the road. Clark listened in, needing to be sure that he hadn’t been spotted and that the occupants of the vehicles were uninjured.

“My God, are you all right?” the truck driver had asked, exiting his vehicle and jamming a wool hat onto his head. “I couldn’t stop in time. I tried.”

“We’re all right,” the man who’d been driving the car had said. “Just shaken up a bit, that’s all.”

“Good. I’m pleased to hear it. Roads are bad today,” the trucker had observed, shaking his head.

“Sure are. I lost control of the car. I don’t know how I got it back.”

“Just in the nick of time.”

“I’ll say. Are you from around here? Do you know if there’s a place we can hole up for the night? Someplace close by?”

The trucker had nodded. “Keep going straight for another eight miles, you’ll reach town. There’s a bed and breakfast you can try. Ask for Trina. Tell her Al sent you, and she’ll treat you right.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome, and stay safe.”

“You too.”

The trucker had shaken the other man’s hand and went back to his vehicle. The man had turned and headed back to his own car. His wife and small daughter had since gotten out of the vehicle. Clark hadn’t been paying them any attention, but he did so when he noticed the girl pointing up at the sky, in the relative vicinity of where he’d been hiding.

“What it is, Cindy?” the woman had asked, shading her eyes and squinting against the falling snow.

“There was a man.”

“A man?” her father had asked.

The girl had nodded gravely. “He fixed the car.”

“Oh really?” the man had said, and Clark had been relieved to hear the skepticism in his voice. He was only playing along with his daughter. “Where did the man go? I’d like to thank him.”

“He flew away,” the child stated, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, he flew, did he?” The father had chuckled, clearly amused at the girl’s overactive imagination.

“He did,” the girl had asserted, in slightly wounded tones.

“Cindy, stop making up stories,” her mother had chided. “Get back in the car. We need to get into town before the roads get any worse.”

With that, the family had climbed back into their car and slowly made their way along the road, crawling so slowly they’d hardly seemed to be moving at all. Clark had stayed put, too afraid to move, until they were four or five miles down the road. Then he’d flown, as fast as he could, to his house.

Clark snapped out of his memories.

“It doesn’t matter,” he argued. “One rumor is all it would take, Mom, to send everything crashing down. I don’t know what Trask is up to. I don’t know what spies he might have. I have no idea where he might be. No one ever found anyone related to Bureau Thirty-Nine. If rumor somehow reached him of a flying man in Kansas, I don’t know what would happen. He’d come after me, that’s for sure.”

“But you can easily outmatch him, son. Make sure the proper authorities took care of him.” Jonathan’s face was grim.

“He has Kryptonite, Dad,” Clark said, shaking his head. “All it would take would be one well-placed bullet. My heart, my head, my guts…” He sighed. “And that’s just what he could do to kill me. I can’t imagine him having a problem with kidnapping, torturing, or murdering you guys, if he made the connection between us. I can’t risk it. I won’t.”

“So, what then? What are you going to do?”

“I need to leave,” Clark said, his voice sinking to barely a whisper. “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Clark…” Martha said.

Clark shook his head sadly. “I don’t want to go. But I don’t see what other choice I have.”

“There’s got to be some other way,” Martha argued.

“If I leave, Trask will have a hard time finding me. And maybe he won’t make the connection between Kansas and you guys and me. Maybe he’ll think I was just passing through the area.”

“You’re assuming he’ll ever hear of today’s incident,” Martha pointed out. “He probably won’t. You realize that, don’t you?”

Clark sighed. “Of course I do, Mom. But I can’t hang my hopes on ‘probably.’ Trask is an evil man.”

“Where are you going to go?” Jonathan asked.

It was a simple question, and not one that Clark had an answer to yet. He shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I just know that I can’t stay.”

“Oh, Clark,” Martha sighed, distressed.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said, coming to her side and resting his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be okay. And besides, it’s not like I’ll ever really be all that far away. I can come home anytime to visit with you guys. Just so long as I’m careful about it.”

“Son, it’s not going to be the same without you here,” Jonathan said.

“I know, Dad. But I promise, I’ll still come home at least once a week to have dinner with you. And I’ll still come in to help with as much work on the farm as I can. Besides, it shouldn’t be that difficult for me, wherever I wind up. You guys know that I have a knack for languages. I should be able to just…blend in…no matter where I go.”

Clark stopped and sighed. His hand reflexively curled and uncurled, making a fist and relaxing it again. The muscle in his jaw ticked, a sign of how unhappy he was, and how tightly he was trying to stifle his emotions. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to lose the only home he’d ever known. He didn’t want to go out blindly into the world, trying to find some other place to settle in, hoping against hope that Trask would never find him.

But he saw no choice. His own desires paled in comparison to the greater responsibility of keeping his parents safe. And if that meant leaving behind his friends, his job, and his home, he would do so.

***

July 6, 1990

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The word echoed in Clark’s brain as he hastily packed his few belongings in a well-worn suitcase. He had to leave this place, and fast. He had to leave before anyone suspected that he was more than he seemed. How could he have been so careless? Carelessness had been what had gotten him into this self-imposed exile in the first place.

He looked around the small but comfortable cabin, nestled in the Canadian wilderness. He’d gotten a good deal on the place. The rent was more than reasonable and the place was fully furnished. It had been close enough to the paper he’d been working for, though he had only been a free-lancer. But he’d steadily been working toward trying to convince his boss to take him on full time. He had even thought he was getting close to achieving that goal. Until now.

Now he had ruined it all.

He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t regret what he’d done. But the rumors had already started flying.

He’d been at the bank that morning, cashing the meager paycheck he’d made by submitting a few articles to his boss. He’d been standing in line, patiently waiting his turn to speak with the teller. Two men had burst into the bank, hooded and masked. They had ordered everyone to lay face down on the floor before aiming their guns at the teller. They had demanded cash and threatened to shoot the hostages if their demands were not met.

Clark had been able to discreetly slip his glasses down enough so that he could aim his heat vision at one of the men’s guns. The pistol had instantly heated up and the robber had screamed, dropping the weapon. That had taken the second man off-guard. As he’d turned to his partner, Clark and another man had rushed the two thieves. It hadn’t been difficult for Clark to subdue the man who’d still maintained a grip on his gun. Clark had wrested the weapon from the man and tossed it aside. The teller, in the meantime, had tripped a silent alarm. Within minutes, the local police had shown up, made the arrest, and thanked the two men who’d helped to apprehend the criminals after taking their statements.

Clark had slipped out as soon as he could, just barely making it out of the bank before the first reporters showed up. He’d found the closest vacant alley and had taken off at maximum speed. For a while, he had hovered above his rented house, too high for any prying eyes to see him, ensuring that no nosey agents of the press came knocking on his door. When they hadn’t, he’d finally allowed himself to land and start packing.

But where was he to go? Did it matter? Would Trask hear of this rescue and the rumors of the gun which had mysteriously heated itself?

It was time to move on.

Clark shoved the last of his clothing into his luggage, then hurried to his computer. He typed out a fast letter of resignation, and sent it to his editor. Then he sent a note to his landlord, informing him that he was leaving the month’s rent on the kitchen table along with the key to the place. By the time he was done, curls of smoke rose from the keyboard.

Clark frowned at that. It frustrated him sometimes, that modern technology still wasn’t able to keep up with his speed.

He waited until evening was coming on, then he left the cabin for the last time. Without a look back, he shot up into the sky and bolted away from North America.

***

September 21, 1991

“I don’t know, Mom,” Clark said, sighing, as he paced the living room of the Kansas farmhouse where he’d found his family, so many years ago. “I just can’t seem to help it. It’s like a curse or something.”

“It’s not a curse, Clark,” Martha argued back. “You’re doing what your heart tells you is right.”

“I know,” Clark sighed again, hanging his head into his chest. “But look what it’s doing to my life.”

“Clark,” Martha said, groping for words.

She didn’t have a chance to find any more before her son gently cut her off.

“I know that I shouldn’t feel badly about helping people. I don’t. And I don’t regret doing the things that I’ve done. It feels really good to be able to use these powers to help, to save lives. But, as soon as I’m finished, I can all but feel Trask on my trail.”

“Son,” Jonathan said, speaking up for the first time since Clark had related his latest rescue and subsequent move. “How can you be sure that he’s even still after you?”

“Dad, I grew up under that man’s rule. I know him far too well. He won’t be content to know that I’m out there, somewhere in the world. He always threatened that he would see me either under his control or dead. And I believe that. It wasn’t a bluff.”

“That may be, but we can’t even be sure he’s still alive,” Jonathan pointed out. “Look at Pauly Overton. Forty years old and healthy as a horse. Bam. Dies of a stroke.”

“I know,” Clark said, still pacing. He reached the wall and kept moving, until he was traversing the room’s ceiling. “But I can’t afford to hope that Trask is gone. All the time, I feel this…noose…tightening around me. Every time I make a rescue or help out in some small way, I wind up unable to sleep well for weeks. I see Trask in every shadow. I feel his eyes on me in every public place — be it at a Papal Mass in Rome, or in the Louvre while admiring the paintings, or on the streets of Tokyo. Every minute, I’m expecting to see him jump out before me with a chuck of Kryptonite.”

“What can we do to help?” Jonathan asked, looking up at his distraught son.

Clark sighed again and slumped his shoulders. “There’s nothing you can do. I have to figure this out on my own, I guess.”

“You can always come back home,” Martha added.

“I know. And I appreciate that, Mom. But I can’t risk it right now. Not until I figure out a way to either deal with my desire to help people without the fear of exposing myself for what I am, or find a way to squash down the instinct to help at all.”

Martha raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You really think that’s a possibility for you?”

There was no reproach in her voice. There was only genuine curiosity.

Clark shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is…I have to do something.”

***

October 4, 1992

Clark Kent had all but lost track of how many places he had lived in. If it hadn’t been for his flawless memory, he probably wouldn’t have remembered all of the countries and cities he’d been in. Some of them had been amazing. Others had made him feel uncomfortable and out of place, like the alien he truly was. And none of them had yet felt like home.

Of course, that hadn’t been why he’d left them. He couldn’t afford to just pick up and leave because he wasn’t fond of a place. He couldn’t just dash off because he was homesick. He had only ever left those places because he’d used his powers and the rumor mill had once again begun to turn.

Although, he had to admit, he was getting a little better about the whole thing. He’d found discreet ways to employ his super abilities without drawing too much attention. Slowly, he had figured out ways of helping without putting himself too much at risk. A cough could cover up a blast of his powerful breath if he needed to blow a car out of a collision course with a pedestrian, for example. It had helped him settle in places for longer periods of time. He’d lasted six months in Italy before he’d slipped up badly and had been forced to flee. He’d managed a month in Spain. He’d lived in Germany for three months. He’d even landed a full time position at one of the German papers.

But always he had come close to being discovered. He’d grown ever more fearful and restless, fleeing before Trask could find him, assuming the man was still alive. He knew Trask had never been caught. He and the rest of Bureau Thirty-Nine had vanished into thin air. Clark figured that the police had probably all but forgotten their search for the man after so many years.

Clark sighed as he wandered the halls of the Cairo museum. It was getting late. He checked his watch. Three fifty-two in the morning. His shift was nearly over. Just another hour and eight minutes to go. Then he would go back to the tiny apartment he was renting, attempt to get an hour or two of sleep, then hit the streets looking for a story to write up, all the while hoping that the paper would agree to buy it from him.

The halls of the museum were eerily quiet as he patrolled. It both comforted him and unnerved him in the same instant. It was nice, in a way, to be all alone, his colleagues all patrolling other areas of the building. And yet, he missed the sounds of life around him — the chatter of people, the snaps, clicks, and whines of cameras, sneakers squeaking on the floors. It seemed so odd for the place to be stone-quiet.

Clark passed a glass case that stood in the center of the room he was in. He peered in, fascinated, as always. Beyond the barrier was a mummy, almost perfectly preserved, except for a shattered foot. The mummy even had some wisps of hair barely clinging to its shriveled scalp. It simultaneously captivated Clark’s mind and creeped him out, knowing that the object on display had once been a living person.

As he stared, he couldn’t help but wonder about his own future. What if Trask found him? What if Trask killed him? Would his alien body be preserved and stuck on display for the untold millions of Earth to ogle at? Once more, he heard the cynical carnival barker’s voice in his mind.

Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up! See the amazing alien body! He looked like a man, spoke like a man, but possessed powers beyond imagining! See how, even in death, nothing can pierce his flesh! See how, even in death, no flame can burn him!

Clark shuddered in the dark, moving away from the nameless body in the glass case.

***

February 13, 2193

Tempus frowned as he took stock of the world around him. Everything had started out so promising. He’d handed over the infant Kal-El to Cameron Trask. The man had been so eager to possess the alien infant. He had been so ready to begin the process of turning the baby into a super soldier, one with the ability to take down entire governments on a whim, all while barely batting an eyelash.

When Tempus had left this universe, he had done so secure in the knowledge that he had won the battle.

With Kal-El nothing more than a science-experiment, a lab rat, a brainwashed minion, there was no way that Utopia could possibly exist. It was a complete impossibility.

But as he looked around Metropolis now, he didn’t see any of the trash or graffiti that should have greeted him. He didn’t see the violence he’d been so desperately ready for. In fact, there was no sign at all that his plan had worked. Curious, and more than a little annoyed, he wandered through the quiet streets. Dawn was just streaking the sky above him with pinks and blues, and puffy white clouds trimmed in gold from the rising sun. He headed straight for Centennial Park, knowing he would get his answer there.

Only a few early morning risers were out. Tempus nodded irritably as he passed an older man walking his black lab, the dog straining against his collar, hoping for a run. He scowled at the two college age women who jogged toward him down the freshly asphalted path. They had the audacity to shoot him matching dirty looks. That caused Tempus to chuckle to himself. No matter what else, in Utopia or not, there were elements of human nature that did not change.

He found the place he was looking for easily enough. He could find it with his eyes closed if he had to.

The Fountain.

The place where Clark Kent and Lois Lane had become engaged to be married. Now immortalized as a shrine to the Man of Steel and the woman he’d bound his life to.

Some time after they had both passed on, their descendants had gone public with their true identities. But society had been well on its way to becoming Utopia, and there had not been a backlash the way Tempus would have liked to have seen. Instead of condemning the superhero as a liar — after all, he had misled the world a few times about who he really was — the world had celebrated the alien. Statues had been erected in his honor, depicting him with his wife, both as Superman and as Clark. Some even showed them with their children, like this one, and still others with their children and grandchildren.

Tempus gritted his teeth as he rounded the bend in the path, coming out from behind the tall evergreen hedge that lined the walkway. The Fountain was still there, along with the statue of Lois and Clark, and their half-breed mongrel children.

Somehow, his plan had failed. Even with Kal-El handed over to Trask, something had gone wrong. Somehow, he’d still managed to find Lois in this universe. And whenever that happened, Utopia was an inevitability.

He needed a new plan. He had to find some way of preventing those two from linking up. He thought carefully over his college Lane History classes. As he did so, glaring at the statue before him as though he himself possessed heat vision to melt it, a seed of an idea took root in his mind.

Smiling to himself, he put his back to the statue and swiftly left the area. He had preparations to make.

***

February 16, 1993

“Perry!” Lois Lane cried, rushing through the bullpen of the Daily Planet. She pitched her voice loud enough to cut through the chaos of sound all around them. “Perry!”

Perry turned at the sound of Lois’ voice. It was clear that whatever she was approaching him about, she was excited. He squashed down the proud smile that was threatening to break out over his face.

“Yes?” he asked, as she finally reached his side. “You have something for me?”

Lois thrust a handful of pages at him. “Here’s the stories on the bank robbery, the rash of car thefts, and yes, even the opening of the Lexor. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we talk in your office?”

Perry raised an amused eyebrow at Lois’ babble. The girl could talk a mile a minute without pausing for breath, but she was also one of the best damned reporters he’d ever seen. She already had two Kerth Awards under her belt, and, if Perry’s instincts were right, she had a good shot at winning another one this year as well. He gestured to his office, opening the door and letting her step inside first.

“What’s this all about?” he asked, as he seated himself behind his desk. “And cut straight to the chase, if you don’t mind. I’m in the middle of something big here.”

“Perry, this is bigger than your trip to Graceland,” Lois said, smiling as though she knew a secret that he didn’t.

“Easy for you to say,” Perry huffed. “Now, spill it or leave my office.”

His tone with her was gentle, teasing almost. He loved the young woman before him like a daughter, and she knew it.

“Gunrunning.”

“Come again?”

“I’ve got a lead on a gunrunning operation,” Lois clarified.

“Uh-huh.”

“In the Congo.”

“Where’d you get this information?”

“Bobby Bigmouth. He got it from someone in the government. Weird name. What was it? Tampos? Timpas? Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“So you…”

“I want to go over there, Perry. I want to be the one to crack this story open.”

“You sure you can trust this?” Perry asked, concerned.

“Bobby’s never lead me astray before,” Lois said, shrugging. “You know his leads always pan out. I have the articles to prove it.”

“I don’t know about sending you over there by yourself,” Perry said, fidgeting with a pencil. “It’s pretty rough over there right now. Especially for someone like you. Young, attractive, American, and female.”

“Perry…”

“Now, Lois, I know you feel like you have the right to this story. And ordinarily, I’d agree. But I don’t know if I’d feel right sending you over there.”

“Perry!” Lois said, her voice hitching up an octave as she fought the impulse to yell. “This is my lead. You can’t send someone else!”

“I didn’t say I was going to stop you,” Perry said with a sly grin. “But I want you to take Eduardo with you.”

“Eduardo?” Lois squeaked. “Oh come on, Perry! What’s he going to do, other than get in my way?”

“Lois,” Perry said, in a warning tone.

“No, Perry,” she argued back, crossing her arms. “A story this big could be Pulitzer worthy. And if you think I’m about to share it with anyone, you can forget it right now.”

With that, Lois was out of the editor’s office. Perry sighed as he watched her retreating form. It was clear that her mind was made up. And, editor or not, there were times when he knew he would never be able to change her mind. Lois would do whatever she wanted, despite what he asked, begged, or ordered her to do. One day, it would get her into trouble. He was sure of it.

***

February 20, 1993

Clark Kent sat at the sagging, shabby bar in the hotel where he was staying. He sipped absently from the mug of beer in front of him, his eyes sweeping over the other patrons surreptitiously. Not many people were around, and those who were sat in small groups of two or three, all with their own drinks. Some spoke in low tones, ones that Clark could easily pick out with his special hearing, if he bothered to. Others laughed loudly. A couple of men threw darts down at the far end of the room. But for the most part, the people around him were subdued. Even in here, the heat of the day still ruled, despite the efforts of ceiling fans and heavily shaded windows. The air was so thick with humidity that he felt as if he were drinking it rather than breathing it.

He sighed softly, trying to figure out his next move, and staring into the amber liquid before him as though it would yield the answers he sought. He hadn’t really been thinking when he’d fled Borneo. He had merely let the winds take him where they wanted. And somehow, that had led him to the Congo.

For three long days he had been here, trying to decide what to do next. Should he stay here for a time and see if he could make a home of it, even for a short time? Should he pick a new place on the map, leaving once it grew dark out? Should he fly back home, to his parents, and ask their advice?

No, he had to rule that last one out. The last time he’d done that, he’d wound up arguing with them until late into the night. They had wanted him to end his self-imposed exile. But he just couldn’t muster up the courage to do that. He still had nightmares about Trask discovering who he was. And in those nightmares, the people he loved always got hurt or killed, without fail. Besides, he hated arguing with his parents. He loved them fiercely and always felt guilty when he argued with them.

No, he would have to figure this one out on his own. With another hearty sigh, Clark drained the rest of his mug, then set it down. The heavy glass made a solid thunk as it made contact with the wooden bar top. It was his third beer since plopping down on the worn barstool and, judging from the look on the bartender’s face, he wasn’t going to be permitted to have another. It was times like this when he actually hated the fact that alcohol had absolutely no effect on him. He really wished he could get drunk enough to pass out in his room for a few hours and have a deep, dreamless sleep.

At least the bar served decent food, he thought to himself. It had been a few weeks since he’d last eaten a meal, not really needing to since the sun gave him all the nourishment he required. He hadn’t even really had the opportunity to fly home for his mother’s cooking. So the meal tonight had been more than welcome. He actually wished he could afford another round of food, but he simply hadn’t had much success in finding work. Freelance work wasn’t bad, but it was unpredictable and didn’t pay as well as a staff job. Not that it mattered much. Clark was constantly on the move as it was.

As Clark gazed down at the empty mug on the scratched bartop, he regretted his decision to blow his much needed money on something as pointless and frivolous as beer. Not only did it have no effect on him whatsoever, but it hadn’t even been that great of a brew, leaving behind an unpleasant after-taste.

Stupid, he chided himself.

Unsure of what to do now or where to go, Clark reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. He extracted a few bills and set them on the bar. He was about to stand and leave when his hearing picked up two voices speaking toward the back of the room. They were talking in hushed whispers, but what had jarred his attention was the fact that one of them, the female, sounded oddly familiar to him. He listened intently for a moment, feeling guilty for eavesdropping, but needing, on some primal level, to figure out where he’d heard that voice before.

“Come on, Karl,” the woman said, a hard edge to her voice. “I didn’t fly all this way for you to tell me that you have nothing.”

The dark-skinned man she was talking to shook his bald head. “I’m sorry, Miss Lane. I can’t help you.”

“Damn it, Karl! You know as well as I do about the rumors.”

“That’s all they are, I’m afraid. Rumors.”

Clark blinked. The man — Karl — had said Miss Lane. Suddenly, Clark found himself sitting in the bleachers of the Metropolis University football field after he had broken his third record. He was being interviewed by Lois Lane, the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Could this woman possibly be the same person? Had fate crossed their paths again?

He had to know. He twisted in his seat a little, just enough to peer over to where she sat, in a prim, crisp khaki business suit, modest pumps, and pair of sunglasses resting atop her dark tresses. Clark’s breath caught in his throat as he looked. She was a little more mature looking, a little more hardened by the world around her, but he would recognize her anywhere. Her hair, once so long, had been cropped into a neat chin-length bob, but there was no doubt in his mind that she was the same woman who had interviewed him and stolen his heart all in the same moment.

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Lois complained, throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation. “I’ll just fly back home tonight. Then the Daily Planet can post a detailed article on the fact that there are only rumors of a gunrunning ring operating in the Congo. We should sell out by noon! My editor will be thrilled that he agreed to send me here. In fact, I should go home and clear off some space on my shelf for all the awards I’ll win for reporting that nothing is happening here.”

“Ssh!” Karl cautioned her. “Not so loud. You don’t know who may be listening. It could be dangerous to your health.”

“I’m a reporter,” Lois argued back, though her voice did drop a little lower. “Danger is part of my job description.”

Karl chuckled a little. “Miss Lane, do you have any idea what would happen to a woman like you if the smugglers got wind of you on their trail?”

“Aha!” Lois said in a triumphant whisper. “So there are smugglers.”

Karl sighed. “I merely ask in a theoretical sense.”

“That’s a load of bull, if you ask me.”

“Miss Lane…”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Karl.”

“Fine. Have it your way,” the man said, standing. “Goodbye, Miss Lane.”

Karl turned his back to Lois and swiftly made his way out of the bar. Lois’ color rose in aggravation. She stood, slamming her palms on the wooden tabletop, then stormed out of the room, calling after Karl. Clark listened for a few minutes, as he made his way out of the bar. But the man never replied to Lois.

“Fine,” Clark heard the woman mutter under her breath. “I’ll just have to do this the hard way.”

***

February 25, 1993

Clark had been shadowing Lois Lane for days. The gunrunning story didn’t interest him in the least. He wasn’t the type to swoop in and steal someone else’s story. But he had been concerned about Lois’ safety. So he had appointed himself her unseen protector, staying in the shadows, always out of her detection.

So far, she hadn’t managed to get into any trouble, but Clark had the gut instinct that it would find her sooner or later. It was just a matter of where and when. And all the while, he ached to be able to approach her. He wanted so badly to talk to her, get to know her, and allow her to get to know him. But he was afraid. He didn’t want the inevitable questions of why was he in the Congo, was he competing for the same story, how did he manage to randomly come across her, here on the opposite side of the world from her home. And so, he contented himself with watching from a distance, listening to the mesmerizing sound of her voice, getting to know, in intimate detail, the unique sound of her heartbeat.

Clark watched as Lois left the hotel where she was staying, which, as luck would have it, was the same as the one he’d checked into a few days before she had arrived in the Congo. It was late, but the heat of the day still lingered in the air. The humidity was so high that Clark’s clothes clung limply to his body, though he did not sweat. He stayed in the shadows as he watched her get into the rental Jeep she was using. For a few moments, she merely let the vehicle idle, waiting for the air conditioner to fully kick in. Then she was off, driving through the night.

Clark followed behind, flying through the dark sky. He barely had to exert any energy to keep up with Lois, though her driving pattern did leave him more than a little worried about her. If she kept driving the way she was, she wouldn’t need the gunrunners to find her in order to get hurt or killed. Clark shook his head to himself and flew on.

Two hours later, Lois pulled the car over to the side of the road. She got out, armed with a tape recorder and camera. Clark dropped in altitude a bit, closing the distance between them slightly. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, without giving himself away. He could be at her side in the blink of an eye if need be, but he still didn’t want to leave any unnecessary space between them.

He followed her as she took off into the underbrush, wading through various ferns, sapling trees, and high grasses until she was close to a mile from her car. A ramshackle cabin stood in the gloom, light spilling out from the single grimy window in the side facing them. Lois cautiously approached the building, ready with her camera. The window was open, allowing in as much of the night air as possible.

Lois crouched below the window, listening for a long time, the tape recorder in her hand. Clark hovered behind the wide trunk of a tree, directly behind Lois. He scanned right through the solid bark and through the wall of the cabin. He frowned. Lois had been right. There were definitely gunrunners in the building. He watched as they carefully packed weapons into crates labeled coffee, palm oil, rubber, and cocoa.

Lois carefully peered through the window, just enough to barely be seen at the lower edge. Her camera began to snap pictures, the sound all but imperceptible. Photo after photo she took, pausing only to swap out the rolls of film with fresh ones. She stayed there for half an hour, maybe more, before she finally lowered the camera and shut off the tape recorder.

Within the building, the men were finishing their task. Clark heard them lightly joking with each other as they carefully tucked away the last of the guns, then nailed shut the crate they were in. He realized that they were getting ready to call it a night, leaving behind only a couple of guards. Lois realized this as well, and she stealthily began to move away, back through the jungle to her Jeep.

But in the darkness, she didn’t see the protruding root from the tree where Clark was hiding. She hit the ground with a thud and an involuntary gasp of pain as she landed flat on her stomach. At the same time, her body crashed nosily through a fern. Inside the cabin, voices rose to shouting. Clark could see the men within reaching for their guns.

Quick as lightning, he flew to the building. Finding a heavy, broken tree limb, he did his best to bar the door. The men inside pounded against the door, frantically trying to get at their eavesdropper. Two men headed to the window, poking the barrels of their firearms out into the humid air. Clark heard their fingers tightening on the triggers. He had just enough time to check the limb once more and position his body behind Lois. An instant later, he felt the bullets skipping off his back.

Lois, meanwhile, had gotten back to her feet. She took off through the jungle, running as fast as she could manage. Clark stayed behind her, floating just an inch above the ground so she would not hear a second set of footsteps. Now and again, he could hear the sharp crack of the gunrunners’ weapons firing at random into the jungle. He heard the crash of the door as they finally muscled it open. He heard them spreading out in all directions, looking for Lois.

He allowed himself a small sigh of relief when Lois was safely back in the Jeep and speeding back toward the hotel. For a moment, he stayed put, hidden in the deep shadows of the jungle, utterly unnoticed by Lois. He wondered if he should round up the gunrunners or if he should tail Lois all the way back to the hotel. But in the next second, he made up his mind. He needed to follow Lois. He needed to ensure that she was all right. He could come back for the gunrunners later, or send the authorities to the hideaway Lois had managed to find.

Lois drove so quickly that she managed to cut the travel time almost in half. Clark stayed with her, flying above the roof of her car, his senses alert for everything and anything. The gunrunners did not follow. That made him uneasy. He had thought for sure they would be tailing the car as closely as possible. Something was going on, he just wasn’t sure what.

At last, the hotel came into sight. Lois finally relaxed her foot off the gas pedal, allowing the vehicle to slow down somewhat. She pulled into a spot as soon as she hit the modest parking lot, then hopped out of the driver’s seat. For a moment, she stood there, leaning against the car. Clark heard her nervous, yet relieved, laughter quietly slipping out into the night.

“Lois, you’ve really pulled it off this time,” she whispered to herself. “Pulitzer, here I come.”

Pushing away from her rental car, she headed back into the hotel. Clark shadowed her, careful to ensure that she did not notice his presence. He took advantage of her momentary distraction in the lobby as she asked the clerk if there were any messages for her, using it to get ahead of her. Something wasn’t right in the hotel. He could feel it in his bones.

He had long since discovered what room was Lois’, so he headed there first. The light had gone out in the hall, plunging it into deep shadows. Clark grew more and more uneasy. He passed her door, pausing once he was certain he was cloaked enough to avoid her detection. He tuned in his hearing, listening to the sounds of life all around him. He heard snoring coming from several rooms on the floor, since it was bordering on five am. In one room, an insomniac was flipping listlessly through the few television channels. At the other end of the hallway, he could hear a businessman mumbling to himself as he packed his things, rushing to make his flight.

Footsteps.

Lois was coming. Clark slunk deeper into the shadows. Lois reached her door and inserted the key into the lock. That’s when Clark heard it. The soft click of a gun’s safety mechanism being disabled. Clark dove at Lois.

“Look out!” he called, as he tackled her to the ground.

Lois landed face first on the old, worn, musty carpeting. Clark pressed his body tightly against her, forming a shield. He knew his body would be able to protect her from what was coming.

“Hey! What the hell are…?”

Gun shots exploded, ripping apart the silence and piercing the wood of the door. They left holes in the wall on the opposite side of hall, the wood splintering and taking flight in all directions.

“It’s all right,” Clark tried to reassure the woman, hoping she wouldn’t be able to twist enough to get a good look at him. “I’ll protect you.”

A bullet skipped off his forehead. He was infinitely glad that Lois was currently staring only at the floor. Clark heard the hollow click as the shooter pulled the trigger on an empty bullet chamber.

“Stay down,” he ordered Lois.

Then, before she could do so much as take a breath, he dashed away, into her hotel room. With a small bit of assistance from his incredible speed, he tackled the shooter before the man could finish reloading. The man fumbled with the new magazine of bullets as Clark grabbed him from behind. He securely grabbed the man’s wrists and held them behind his back. With a tiny bit of calculated pressure, he forced the shooter to release his grip on his weapon, then he kicked it across the room.

Taking one of Lois’ scarves, he quickly bound the man’s hands. He only hoped the thin, gauzy material would hold him. He shoved the shooter into the chair that stood by the window, then used another scarf to tie him to it. One final scarf bound the man’s ankles to the chair legs.

In the next moment, Clark had his back to the man and was out the door. He had worked so quickly that Lois was only just now starting to venture a look up. Clark was beside her in an instant, bending over her and offering his hand to her. She took it blindly and he helped her to her feet.

“What…what just happened?” she asked in a dazed voice.

“Your source…Karl. Looks like he was in league with the gunrunners.”

“Oh God,” Lois groaned. Then she paused, thinking. “Wait…how did you…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Clark said. “What matters is that you tell the authorities everything you know about the gunrunning operation.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to steal my story, would you?” Lois asked, giving him a hard look.

Clark let out a soft laugh. “No,” he reassured her. “You did all the legwork on it. Print your story. I dare-say you should win some awards with it.” He gave her a grin, knowing that she probably couldn’t see it.

“Come into the light,” she asked, as the pounding of footsteps sounded behind her.

Clark shook his head. Police swarmed into the room, weapons raised. “They are going to need you to make a statement.”

“And you,” she countered.

“No,” Clark said, stepping backwards a pace. “I can’t afford to be associated with this.” He took three more steps backwards.

“Wait!” Lois cried, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “You saved my life. Thank you. But please, at least tell me your name.”

Clark hesitated. He couldn’t give her his real name, but he didn’t want to lie and make up one either. And yet, he wanted so much to reveal himself to her. Maybe, just maybe, it would allow him to get to know her. He desperately wanted to get to know her.

“I’m…a friend,” he finally said.

“Miss Lane!” Two of the police officers approached Lois. She turned to look at them. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine. Just a second,” she said, waving them away and turning back to Clark.

But he was already gone, zipping down the stairwell at the far end of the corridor and heading to his own room. Once there, he slipped out of his window. Tonight, he would patrol the area, ensuring that no further attempts were made on Lois’ life. And once she left the hotel, heading back to her home, he would move on again.

As he circled around the hotel, a silent sentinel, he kept his hearing tuned to Lois. He listened as she filled in the authorities on what had taken place that night. Once they were satisfied, he heard her pacing her room, perhaps still riding the wave of adrenaline he was sure she had to have been experiencing. She picked up the phone after a while, dialing a long series of numbers to call overseas.

“Hi, Perry. Yes, I know it’s after midnight. But I have one hell of a story for you…”

***

September 12, 1993

Clark disembarked from the bus, grateful to be able to stand and walk again. He’d been on the stuffy, overcrowded bus for too many hours. It felt great to stretch his legs finally. He rolled his neck from side to side, working out a kink that had formed in his muscles when he’d fallen asleep, his head leaning against the window. Now, he was wide awake and ready to tackle the world. He stood on the sidewalk, taking in the sights and smells of the city.

Metropolis.

Perhaps it would become his new home. He liked it here already. It had a welcoming heartbeat to it, though most people probably would have called the city cold and impersonal. And, more importantly, this was Lois Lane’s city. Perhaps, if he lived in Metropolis, he could get to know her. He certainly planned on trying to land a job at the newspaper she worked for. Not only would she be a colleague then, but the Daily Planet was one of the most prestigious papers in the entire country. It would be a dream come true to land a permanent position on its staff.

As he stood there, trying to decide his first move, he allowed himself to think back over the events that had led him back to the United States after so many years in exile.

After his time in the Congo, he had wandered aimlessly. For two months he’d disappeared off the map, seeking refuge in the vast, uninhabited regions of Siberia. It had been extremely lonely and depressing, but he had felt it to be a necessity. Rescuing Lois had been the riskiest thing he had ever done. He had allowed himself to interact with the person he had saved, instead of doing his best to be an invisible helper. It was true that she hadn’t seen his face — at least, he was pretty sure she hadn’t — and he hadn’t given her his name. But he still feared Trask somehow finding him out and hunting him down. Or worse, using Lois as a way to get to him.

It had been a rough couple of months for Clark. Though the temperatures didn’t bother him, it had weighed heavily on his mind that he had almost no contact with any people whatsoever. It had dredged up painful memories of his time as Trask’s prisoner during his youth. Although, even then, he’d had human interaction, even if the only people he’d seen then were the scientists who’d poked and prodded and experimented on him day after day and the guards who’d kept him locked in his prison.

He had only dared to see his parents twice during that time, and then for no more than a few hours at a time. He never went to them during daylight hours. It was always under the cover of darkness, when it would be hardest for any prying eyes to see him speed into a landing behind the house. Paranoid had not even begun to describe how nervous he’d been about being seen.

When he could no longer bear the isolation of Siberia, he’d moved on to Fiji, then Australia, and finally Greece, never staying long in one place. He’d kept a tight rein on his intense desire to help people, but always managed to allow it to slip enough to possibly expose him. As before, he’d lived his life by constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting to see Trask coming after him. But then, he’d happened to call home one night, only to get shocking news.

Cameron Trask was dead.

The police had notified the Kents several days before, knowing they would want closure to the case. Trask had been brought to a hospital, complaining of chest pains. He had died of a massive heart attack right in the emergency wing of the hospital before the doctors could do so much as diagnose him. No one had any idea where the rest of Bureau Thirty-Nine was, but Clark knew that most of them didn’t know much about him. Most were unaware of what powers he possessed and of the effect that Kryptonite had on him. It was true that Jenson knew, but Clark knew that the scientist wasn’t a ruthless man. Trask had been the one who had truly scared him.

But now, Clark was a free man.

He’d come out of exile within the hour, flying with all speed back to Smallville. He’d been, and still was, filled with euphoria, as if the entire weight of the cosmos had been lifted from his shoulders. He would continue to hide who and what he really was from the world, but he no longer needed to fear being pursued by a madman.

And yet, his days abroad had changed him. He was no longer content to spend his days working on his parents’ farm. Oh, he still loved to be able to help them out, to be there with them, to have their reassuring presence so close once more. But he had, in a very real and profound way, outgrown Smallville. It had been time for him to move on once more.

Clark sauntered down the sidewalk, looking for a place to stay. After trying several hotels, he found the only one that was in his price range was the ratty, shabby Hotel Apollo. The place was an absolute dump, complete with cracked walls, peeling paint, and the faint stench of mold, mildew, and decay. But he could afford more than one night there, and they had a vacancy. He took the room without complaint. He frowned as he opened the door to his room. It was even more Spartan than his room in the Congo had been. With a sigh, he dropped his suitcase on the bed, the ancient springs creaking under the light weight of the case. He popped the case open, grabbed the folder with his résumé and writing samples, and headed back out into the warm September day.

It was easy enough to find the Daily Planet, the large, shining globe like a beacon to him. He stepped confidently into the building, breathing in deeply the strong, fragrant aroma of coffee from the newsstand on the ground floor. He passed it by without looking at it, and pressed the elevator button. He rode silently up to the bullpen, his mind focused on what he could possibly say to the editor.

The doors slid back open with a soft ding, letting Clark out into the thick of the newspaper.

“Excuse me,” he said, stopping a man in his tracks. The man couldn’t have been any older than himself. In fact, he was probably a few years younger than Clark was. “I’m looking for Perry White’s office.”

“Right this way,” the man said. “I’m heading to his office right now.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“I’m Jimmy.”

“Clark Kent, nice to meet you,” Clark said, offering Jimmy his hand.

The two men shared a friendly shake.

“Olsen!” An irritated yell punctured through the low roar of the newsroom.

“Speaking of,” Jimmy said under his breath. “Come on.”

“Where in Sam Hill have you been?” the editor asked, in a grumpy southern drawl as Jimmy reached his office.

“Running some research for Lois,” Jimmy said, shrugging.

“Where the hell is my sandwich?”

Jimmy sighed and lifted a brown paper bag in his hand, setting it on the editor’s desk. “Right here. BLT, extra tomato, no mayo.”

The editor cracked a small smile and grunted agreeably. “Well, all right then.”

“Chief, this is Clark. He says he was looking for you.”

“You have an appointment, son?”

Clark squirmed a little. “Well…no. Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?” Perry asked, arching an eyebrow. “You either do or you don’t.”

“I…don’t,” Clark confessed. “But I was hoping that I could speak with you, about getting a job here as a reporter.”

Perry eyed Clark for a long moment with an appraising stare. He must have liked something that he saw. After a moment, he nodded.

“Come on, take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Perry nodded and sat down in his high-backed office chair. It squeaked a little as he turned it to face Clark better. He frowned.

“Jimmy!”

“On it, Chief!” came the reply. “I’ll run down to the hardware store and get something to fix that squeak as soon as I can.”

Perry cracked a smile. “That kid’s the best around,” he confided. “Just don’t tell him that.”

Clark smiled back, trying to break the ice. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Perry chuckled, then swiftly became serious. “So, what’s this about a job?”

Clark subtly cleared his throat. His heart was hammering in his chest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he always became extremely nervous when interviewing with an editor. He was perfectly fine in approaching the people he was investigating or witnesses. Perhaps it had something to do with who held the power. In a job interview, he held no power at all, just like he’d held no power long ago as Trask’s prisoner. But when he was doing his job as a reporter, he held a certain amount of control.

“I’d like a job here, Mr. White,” he said earnestly.

“Well,” Perry said, rubbing his chin. “We aren’t exactly needing to fill any positions at the moment.”

Clark nodded amiably. “Perhaps my work will convince you otherwise.”

“You have writing samples?” Perry asked, though he seemed unsurprised.

Clark nodded again. He handed Perry a folder full of newspaper clippings and Xeroxed copies. Perry shuffled through them quickly. But his frown deepened as he got further into the stack.

“You, uh, seem to be pretty well traveled,” the editor observed.

“Yes, sir. I spent a lot of time after college bouncing around from place to place.”

“Any particular reason why?”

Clark shrugged a little, uncomfortable with the question. “I just…never really felt like I fit in,” he finally said. It was close enough to the truth, he thought.

“Madame Rousseau’s Pastry Shop Now Serving Wedding Cakes. Smallville Town Hall To Receive Fresh Coat Of Paint. Smallville’s Annual CornFest A Roaring Success. Twenty-One Tips For A Safe Summer On The Great Barrier Reef.” Perry’s voice was flat and dull as he read through some of the titles of Clark’s articles.

“I know they may not be hard hitting news…” Clark started to say.

“That’s right, they aren’t,” Perry agreed.

“I was a free-lancer on a lot of those papers,” Clark explained. “They wouldn’t print my hard news stories most of the time, opting to go with their full-time staff.”

“I’m sorry,” Perry said, shaking his head. “I just can’t use stuff like this.”

“Sir, I know I may still be a little green, but if you just give me the chance to prove myself…”

“Sorry, son, I just don’t have a place here for you.”

Clark sighed softly. The tone in Perry’s voice was unmistakable. He’d heard the same tone in just about every other editor’s voice. The subject — and the interview — was closed. He would not be getting a job here. In his mind’s eye, he saw his dream being smashed into a million pieces, like a mirror, the shards flying off in every direction imaginable.

Clark stood and stuck out his hand. “I understand. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

Perry handed him back the folder. “Don’t give up, son. You seem like a bright kid. I’m sure something will come your way.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, plastering a smile on his face and a feigned lightness in his voice.

He shook the editor’s hand, then regretfully left his office. Out in the bullpen, Clark took a second to take stock of the place, wishing he’d been able to secure a position at the paper. As his eyes quickly assessed the place, they came to rest on her.

Lois Lane.

She was talking a mile a minute into her phone, clearly unhappy with whoever was on the other end of the line. She impatiently tapped her pencil on the yellow legal pad before her, the lead tip making a series of small pockmarks on the paper. Clark wandered slowly toward her desk, choosing the path that went right past her on his way to the exit. He listened to her as he walked, using a small portion of his super hearing to focus on her voice alone, out of the chaos that raged all around him.

“Yes, I’m still holding. I’ve been holding for twenty minutes already. Yes, I understand that. I’m sure the mayor is plenty busy, but perhaps he should busy himself with making statements to the press. No, that wasn’t a threat. Look, Dana, I don’t care. I want to know why the mayor is using city funds to finance his out of state golf trips. No, don’t put me on hold again!”

Lois rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. She shrugged into her coat hurriedly. She nearly crashed into Clark as she launched herself away from her desk, still tugging on one sleeve.

“Jimmy!” she called, picking up her pace.

She seemed to ignore Clark, or perhaps she was so focused on her story that she didn’t even see him.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, rushing to her side.

“Dig up everything you can on the mayor and his golf outings. And see if you can get someone at City Hall to call me back.”

“Where are you heading?”

“The Fudge Castle.”

“Lois, you told me to stop you if you even mentioned that place,” Jimmy said.

Lois rolled her eyes again. “Not for me. For Larry the Leak. He’s got to have a lead for me.”

With that, she sped off to the elevator. Clark tried to rush through the newsroom fast enough to perhaps share a car down with her, but he was too late. The silver doors shut, taking Lois Lane out of his sight.

***

November 16, 1993

Clark glanced at his watch. Three-thirty in the morning. Another half hour before quitting time, when he would head back to his rundown, low rent, and somewhat sleazy apartment down in Hobbs Bay. It was a rough section of town, but it was all he could afford. And to do that, he almost never bought any food. But he did miss the taste of a good meal. Plain spaghetti cooked in salted water just wasn’t cutting it, on the nights when he decided to splurge.

He had tried to get home as much as possible, but he was juggling three jobs, and it wasn’t easy to make time to make the trip out to Kansas, though it only took him seconds to cover the distance. And when he could make it out there, he all but inhaled his food, hugged his parents, thanked them, then rocketed back to Metropolis to make it to one of his jobs on time.

Two and a half weeks. That was how long it had been since he’d last eaten anything. Two and a half long weeks.

Clark sighed and kept his eyes roving over the crowd in the club. The Stoke Club was still jumping, even at this late hour. Most of the patrons were tucked away at various tables, the bar, or dark corners, shouting at their companions to be heard over the music. A good sized crowd was on the dance floor, and various bodies gyrated to the beat as the DJ fluidly switched from one song to another. The lights swirled around the room at a dizzying pace, throwing splashes of reds, greens, blues, yellows, and purples over the patrons and up the walls, and painting the floor, which glowed an electric neon blue.

It was nearly blinding, but Clark’s sharp eyes were better than a normal human’s, and he had no difficulty in maintaining his watchful guard. Something in the far corner of the club, near the bathrooms, caught his eye. He agilely wound his way through the dancing people in the center of the room, heading to the people who had grabbed his attention.

A man and a woman, close to Clark’s age, were in a compromising position. The man’s belt was undone and his fly was down. The woman’s skirt was hitched up around her thighs. Clark could see that he’d made it to them just in time.

“All right,” he said, in a commanding voice. “Break it up.”

“Hey, man, get lost,” the man replied.

“Hey, man, get a room. I could have you arrested for indecent exposure,” Clark said, crossing his arms.

He made sure to flex his muscles just a bit as he did so. In his sleeveless bouncer shirt, the sight was impressive. It had the desired effect. Both the man and the woman blanched a little. The woman pulled her skirt down and adjusted the fabric. The man’s hands fumbled as he tried to zip his fly and buckle his belt.

“Get out,” Clark said sternly, pointing to the exit. “Now.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said. He grabbed his companion’s wrist and swiftly attempted to vanish into the crowd.

Clark followed them, keeping hard on their heels. Only when he saw them exit the building and head down the street was he satisfied. He alerted Manny, the bouncer at the door, of what had transpired, with a warning not to let them back in. Then he went back to his favorite post to watch over the crowd again.

His eyes swept over the crowd, then suddenly stopped. The air rushed from his lungs. She was there. Lois Lane. The woman he’d been in love with since a chance meeting in college. Another woman was with her. The similarities between the two women were so great that they could only be sisters. He tuned in his hearing, needing to hear Lois’ voice.

“I could kill you for dragging me out here,” Lois lamented, taking the last sip of red wine from her glass. She put it down with a sigh.

“Why? Because I’m trying to help you have a social life?”

“Lucy…”

Lucy shook her head. “No, don’t start.”

“Look, I’m gonna head back to my apartment.”

“Lois, come on. Let your hair down. Live a little.”

“I’ve been ‘living a little’ with my ‘hair down’ since eleven. This after chasing three dead leads today. I’m tired. I want a hot shower and my bed. Okay?”

A man approached the two women. He placed a hand on Lois’ shoulder. “Hey, baby. How’s about I buy you a drink?”

Lois shrugged out of the man’s touch. “How about no.”

“Come on, baby. You and me. We’ll have a few drinks. Maybe you come back to my place.”

The man’s hand went back to Lois’ shoulder. She turned violently on the man, jerking out of his touch.

“Get your hands off me! I said no. Touch me again and I’ll break your arm.”

Clark was already on the move. He knew the man was drunk, from the way he swayed on his feet and the slight slurring of his words.

“Oh, rough stuff, huh? Luckily for you, I don’t mind.”

In the next second, Clark materialized behind the drunk man. He tapped the man on his shoulder. The man only briefly turned to glance at him.

“Excuse me, sir. But I believe the lady wants you to leave her alone,” Clark said, crossing his arms imposingly across his chest.

The man laughed as if he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. “And who are you? Her body guard?”

“Right now, yes, I am.”

“Oh, really?”

Clark nodded. “Really. See, that’s what this logo here means.” He pointed to the logo on his shirt, stating that he was Stoke Club Security. “Now, you have two choices. Either you leave these ladies here alone, or I’ll throw you out.”

“I’d like to see you try!”

Clark sighed. The man was bigger than he was, but he couldn’t possibly know of Clark’s strength. He shook his head.

“All right. You asked for it.”

Clark grabbed the man by his shirt, the denim material bunching in his fists. The man started to punch Clark, but Clark paid it no more attention than he would a mosquito. His gaze went to Lois.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to take out some trash.”

Jeez, that was a corny line, if ever I heard one, he mentally berated himself.

He shook his head again to himself as he brought the drunk to the door. He placed the man outside, finally letting the drunk’s feet touch the ground again. The man gave him a hard look, but Clark crossed his arms over his chest and fixed the man with an even harder look. Perhaps the man’s liquid courage was starting to wear off. He relented under Clark’s unyielding gaze and ambled down the sidewalk. Satisfied, Clark returned to the table where Lois and Lucy were still sitting.

“I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right,” he said, fumbling for words.

Lois nodded. “Fine, thanks.”

“Happy to help,” Clark said, giving her a shy smile.

He saw Lucy give Lois a subtle nudge in her ribs. Lois rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I’m done here,” she said to her sister.

Lucy reluctantly nodded. “After that, so am I.”

“Let me get you a cab,” Clark offered. “It’s the least I can do. Uh, I mean, to apologize. On behalf of the Stoke Club, that is.”

Lois warily eyed him, then nodded her assent. “Thanks. That would be great.”

Clark was nearly floating in his ecstasy. Just talking to Lois set his heart to soaring. This was so different then when he’d spoken to her in the Congo. This time, he wasn’t afraid to let her see him. There was nothing notable, or super, about a bouncer in a club. There was no reason to suspect that he was anything more than he appeared to be.

He led the two women to the door, then stepped out into the brisk night. He ignored the cool air on his skin. It didn’t bother him. If anything, it actually felt kind of good to get out of the stuffy, hot club and take in some fresh air. He reached the edge of the sidewalk and waved down a passing cab. Then he opened the door for Lois and Lucy.

“Have a nice night,” he said cheerfully.

“Thanks. You too…uh…”

“Clark,” he supplied.

“Clark,” Lois repeated.

She stepped into the cab, scooted over, and allowed Lucy to get in. In the next moment, they were off, the bright yellow car reaching the end of the street and turning the corner. Clark sighed dreamily as he stared after them, well after the cab was gone. Then he checked his watch. Quitting time.

Tomorrow would be another day.

***

November 17, 1993

Clark tried to stifle a yawn as he stood at his post on the ground floor of the Daily Planet building. He lost the battle, yawing mightily, trying to hide it with one hand. Luckily, it was still fairly early, so not many people witnessed as he stretched along with the yawn. Glancing around at the somewhat empty floor, he took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

He’d barely gotten any sleep the night before. He could usually bank on four or five hours of sleep on the nights when he was at the Stoke Club. But his hours had been much longer than usual the previous night. He’d filled in for Ollie, one of the other bouncers who was home sick with the flu. Clark hadn’t minded the extra hours at all. He didn’t require as much sleep as other people, unless he really pushed himself hard, using his powers. But he hadn’t done that in a long time. And besides, the extra hours had been more than welcome for the extra money they would afford him. Perhaps he’d splurge and buy himself a decent dinner one night.

He rested his forearms against the counter of the newsstand. The strong aroma of coffee made his mouth water, but he tamped down his desire to pour himself a cup. He couldn’t afford the expense right now, not until his next paycheck came in. Instead, he contented himself with watching the people both within the building and beyond the large windows that looked out into the street.

Hours passed. The morning rush kept Clark busy, for which he was always thankful. The busier he kept himself, the less time he had to dwell on anything else — how desperately he wanted a cup of coffee, how delicious the pastries in the small glass case looked, and, most importantly, when he would catch a glimpse of Lois Lane as she zipped through the lobby and into work for the day.

Lois Lane.

He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind all night. Every time he’d closed his eyes, he’d seen her face there. He saw her smile. He heard her voice. He smelled the faint trace of her perfume. Cucumber, if he wasn’t mistaken. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning in his bed, thoughts of Lois running through his mind.

He had to approach her. He had to talk to her. He had to try and find the courage to ask her out.

But…how?

He was broken from his reverie as she came striding through the double doors that led out onto the sidewalk. Clark glanced at his watch. Eleven am. Much later than she usually came in. No wonder the day had been dragging by. The sound of her heels on the marble floor was like gunshots. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was aggravated this morning. It was written all over her face and in the way that she carried herself.

She approached the newsstand, barely seeming to focus on her surroundings. Her notebook slammed onto the countertop. Without looking up, she placed her order.

“Coffee. Non-fat dairy creamer, one sugar. And a chocolate croissant.”

“Coming right up,” Clark said, unable to help the happy smile that crept up over his lips.

Lois’ brow crinkled as he spoke. She looked up at him for the first time, studying his face.

“Wait a second. I know you,” she said after a moment. “You were the bouncer at the Stoke Club last night, weren’t you?”

Clark nodded. “Yes, I was.”

“What are you, following me?” she asked, eying him a little warily.

Clark chuckled. “Nope. It’s just a happy coincidence, that’s all. I work in the Metropolis Midtown Library on the weekends too.”

“Clyde, right?”

“Clark,” he corrected her gently.

Lois flushed a little. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” he assured her.

Finding himself at a loss for words, Clark concentrated on making Lois’ coffee. He set the Styrofoam cup before her and then retrieved her croissant for her. He popped it into a small white waxed-paper bag. Lois already had her money waiting, and Clark silently made her change. A little thrill shot through his body as his fingertips made contact with her palm as he placed the coins in her outstretched hand.

“Here you go,” he said, giving her a brilliant smile. “One coffee, one chocolate croissant. Thirty-five cents is your change.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“No, really. Thanks. I know I didn’t say it last night but, I appreciate you getting rid of that creep for me at the club.”

Clark’s smile lit up his face again. “Just doing my job,” he said humbly.

Lois crossed her arms. “And is it your job to escort patrons out of the club and flag down taxis for them?”

Clark blushed a little. “Well…not exactly.”

“I didn’t think so.”

A small chuckle escaped Clark’s throat. He wanted so badly to ask this woman out, but he hesitated. How could he ask her for a date when he didn’t have the spare cash to buy himself a cup of coffee, let alone a decent meal at a nice restaurant? He sighed inwardly. He would have to pass up this perfect opportunity.

“Well, I’d better get to work,” Lois said, shifting uncomfortably when Clark failed to speak.

“Oh…right.” Clark did his best to bury the disappointment in his voice.

“Anyway, if there’s something I can do to thank you for last night…”

“Actually, there might be,” Clark said, his brain kicking into gear. “You see, I’m only doing these odd jobs while I look for something permanent. I’m actually a journalist. I met with the editor here at the Daily Planet a few months back. But, well, he wasn’t keen on what experience I have.”

“And you want me to…?” Lois arched a questioning eyebrow.

“Just…tell me…what can I do to gain Mr. White’s approval? I know I lack the experience he wants to see, but at the same time, I refuse to go work for one of the tabloids. That’s worse than no experience at all.”

Lois laughed a little. “You’ve got that right. What can you do to impress Perry? Hmmm…” She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “The thing about Perry is, you have to be persistent.”

“Persistent…got it,” Clark said, although he wasn’t really sure what that meant.

He was pretty sure that the editor wouldn’t appreciate Clark barging in on him right now, demanding a second interview. He had nothing new to offer the man. Nothing to show him other than these side jobs he was doing in order to survive in Metropolis. He’d have to do…something…to prove to the man what a good writer he was.

Now, there’s a thought, Clark thought to himself. I’ve got to nail down a story or two and prove to Mr. White that I’m capable of producing the kind of writing he’d expect from one of his employees. Something big. Something he’d want his top reporters on. Something like Lois would write.

“Sorry,” Lois said, shrugging. “That’s not all that helpful, I guess.”

Clark smiled warmly. “Actually, you’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks.”

Lois’ beeper started to shriek. She fumbled in her purse for a moment, then rolled her eyes.

“Duty calls. See you around, Clark.”

“See you,” Clark called after her, as she raced away to the elevator, juggling her purse, notes, coffee, and breakfast.

He smiled to himself once she was out of sight. He had a plan now. All he had to do was keep his exceptionally sharp eyes and ears peeled for a story that he could write up. He could watch and wait, and when he finally found something worth submitting to Perry White, he would knock it out of the park.

***

January 30, 1994

Clark huddled down into his thick winter coat, hunching his shoulders against the frigid wind. He didn’t feel the cold, though he was aware of it. But in the below-freezing temperature, he would stick out like a sore thumb if he didn’t slouch into his coat a little bit, trying to utilize every speck of the thick sheep’s wool that lined the garment. Around him, everyone else was doing the same thing. He checked his watch and nodded absently to himself. He still had plenty of time before he was due at the Metropolis Midtown Library.

Around him, tiny white snowflakes danced in the air, riding the gusts of wind and swirling around his head. A few had fallen onto his eyelashes, glittering as the heat of his body melted them. His black coat was covered in a fine layer of snow that fell about his shoulders like a royal robe. But Clark didn’t pay much attention to the frosty white flakes. His mind was a thousand miles away.

After his brief conversation with Lois that morning in November, he hadn’t gotten the chance to speak more than a few words with her at any given time. And although he wanted to ask her out, his courage fled every time he thought of his paltry minimum wage jobs, and the recent increase in his rent. He was forced to take on more hours at his jobs, leaving him with virtually no spare time. When he actually did have spare time, he spent it trying to recharge himself, or looking for a story worthy enough to submit to the editor of the Daily Planet. He hadn’t even been home to visit his parents since Christmas Eve.

The more Clark looked for a story to write up, the more he became discouraged. With so much of his time spent at his three jobs, he barely had any time to look for a story. And what he did find simply wasn’t good enough. He had a feeling that Perry White wouldn’t hire him if he covered the eighty-seventh Metropolis Dog Show. He needed something big. Something front-page worthy. Something that Lois Lane would go after. Of course, that meant that he’d have to beat her to the scene, which wouldn’t be easy with his hectic schedule. At least, he mused, the writing aspect would be quick enough. So long as he went slow enough so as not to overheat his poor, battered, second-hand laptop, he could fire off an article in seconds.

Standing on the corner of 3rd and Walnut, Clark bounced a little on the soles of his feet, waiting for the light to change. On an impulse, he decided to take the long route to the subway station. Even as sleazy as Hobbs Bay was, there was still something magnificent about the Metropolis Harbor. He enjoyed walking that way when he could.

As he walked along the sea wall, the wind buffeted his body roughly. He simply hunched into his coat further, trying to look like any ordinary, miserable commuter. He was just reaching the end of the wall when several police cars came rushing to the scene, sirens blaring. They skidded to a halt fifty feet in front of Clark. Officers piled out of the vehicles, zipping up coats and tugging their hats down around their ears. Intrigued, Clark stopped.

He watched as the men and women descended down the sea wall steps to the thin strip of beach. Curious, he went to the wall and peered over. There was a body laying on the beach, bluish-skinned and unmoving, the face so bloated and distorted that it was impossible to tell who it might have once been. Clark felt an immense sadness well up within his chest. Who was that person? A husband? A father? Who was missing them, wondering what had happened? How had this man — and Clark could tell by the expensive business suit that it was a male — died? Had it been foul play? An accident?

A detective rushed by Clark as he stared down on the body. Seeing his opportunity, Clark called out to the man.

“Excuse me? Detective?”

The man turned to face him, a frown on his face. “Yes?”

“My name is Clark Kent. I’m…”

“A reporter?” the man snapped in impatience.

“Something like that. I’m hoping to find employment with one of the city’s papers. I was wondering if you can tell me what happened here? Please? I’d like to, at the very least, secure freelance work with the paper.”

The man sighed and eyed Clark, seeming to appraise him. Clark must have looked convincing, because the man nodded after a moment.

“We’re not sure yet. We got an anonymous call that there was a body, washed up on the beach.”

Clark whipped out a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. He always carried it with him, just in case a story arose.

“Mind if I take a few notes?”

“Go ahead,” the detective replied, gesturing vaguely at Clark’s notebook.

“Thanks. So, when was this?”

“Just about twenty minutes ago.”

“I see.”

Clark continued to pepper the detective with questions, scribbling down hastily taken notes. His flawless memory would allow him to play back the entire conversation in intimate detail later on, but he had to act the part of a regular guy. When he felt that he’d gotten all the information possible, he put away the notebook and stretched out his hand.

“Thank you very much,” Clark said sincerely. “If I need to contact you again…?”

“Just ask for Bill Henderson,” the detective said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course,” Clark said.

He watched as Henderson retreated. The rest of the homicide team was still hovering around the body. One man was snapping photos from every conceivable angle. Others were combing the beach for clues. Several were standing a little apart from the scene, talking. One of them was gesturing broadly as he spoke. Clark didn’t bother to tune into it with his hearing. He had a job to do.

He turned from the scene, breaking into a fast run. It was difficult for him to maintain a normal human speed. Straight back to his apartment he went, fumbling with his keys in his haste. Once inside, he shut the door, went over to his computer, and hit the power button. He didn’t even bother to take the time to peel off his coat.

The computer seemed to take forever to boot up. Clark drummed his fingers restlessly on the table as he waited. But at last, it was up and running. Clark opened his writing program, then tapped out his article. Two minutes later, he finished. He read it over six times, correcting minor mistakes and choosing better wording, until he was finally satisfied and the keyboard had thin curls of smoke rising from it. Clark printed the story out, shoved it into his briefcase, then hurried back out into the snow.

He took the shortcut to the subway station this time, racing down the streets like any regular commuter who had overslept. He practically flew down the steps to the underground platform, then wiggled his way into the packed train car seconds before the doors closed. His heart was thudding in his chest and his anxiety levels were high. The ride into midtown seemed to take forever, and every second seemed like a lifetime. A slow, painful lifetime.

It was with the greatest of relief that Clark finally disembarked from the subway at the station directly in front of the Daily Planet. He sprinted up the stairs, back into the wan sunlight, and stopped. He took a moment to compose himself, then entered through the doors into the heat of the building. It felt like he was walking toward his destiny.

“Hey, Kim,” he said, waving at the college-aged brunette who was manning the newsstand.

“Hey, Clark,” she waved back distractedly, as she thumbed through one of the city’s gossip rags.

Clark shook his head. He could never truly understand the fascination some people had with the tabloids. Why would anyone really care if a celebrity went to an event and their shoes didn’t match their outfit? But, to each his own, as his father had always said. By the time the elevator doors slid open and he stepped into the car, he’d already put it out of his mind, choosing, instead, to focus on what he could possibly say to Perry White.

Almost too soon, the elevator spilled him out into the bullpen of the Daily Planet. He checked his watch with a smooth, swift motion. He had less than half an hour to make it to the library if things didn’t pan out here. He could make it — with a little bit of super-cheating. Clark took stock of the newsroom for a brief moment, gathering himself, then headed down the ramp into the thick of things. Straight to the editor’s office he went, this time, knowing his way and feeling very confident in the article he was carrying.

Perry White’s head was bent over an article when Clark appeared in the doorway. The grizzled old newspaperman was muttering under his breath as he marked the paper on his desk with a red pencil. Clark knocked softly, causing the man to look up with an almost startled expression.

“Judas Priest!” the man exclaimed, chuckling a little at his own jumpiness.

“Sorry,” Clark immediately apologized. “Mr. White, I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

“You’re that same guy who came traipsing in here a few months back, looking for a job, right?”

“Yes, sir. You told me that my experience wasn’t sufficient.”

“Son, I meant that you have years of work ahead of you.”

Clark nodded. “I know. But, I was wondering if you might take a look at an article of mine.”

Perry arched his brow, clearly annoyed. But, Clark thought — or hoped — there was a glimmer of interest in the older man’s eyes. Perry waved him in and gestured to the chairs in his office. Clark happily obliged in sitting down, then dutifully took out the article he’d written.

“Here,” he said simply, handing over the sheet of paper.

Perry took it without a word. For several long moments, he just read, making no more than the occasional grunt deep within his throat. Clark wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good thing or a bad thing. He simply waited to see what the editor’s verdict would be. After a long time, Perry cleared his throat.

“This, uh…this is some good work,” he finally said. Then, looking at Clark, he asked, “This is all true?”

Clark nodded. “Thank you. And yes.”

“No offense, son, but I hadn’t heard anything about this yet.”

“Perry!” Lois said, flying through the door and into the office. “Floater washed ashore in Hobbs Bay. I’m going and I’m taking Jimmy.”

“No need,” Perry said, drawing the words out just a touch.

“No need?” Lois echoed. “Chief, this could be big! A mob murder…or a drug deal gone wrong…or…”

“Kent here already got the story,” Perry said, cutting her off. “Lois Lane…Clark Kent.”

“You again?” Lois asked, noticing Clark for the first time.

“Me again,” Clark said, giving her a small smile and a friendly wave.

“You two know each other?” Perry asked.

“We’ve bumped into each other, yeah,” Lois said, not even bothering to make eye contact with her boss.

“Good. ‘Cause I want the two of you on this story. Clark, there’s one thing I value more than experience, and that’s initiative. You proved you have it, and some damn good writing skills to boot. Welcome to the Daily Planet, son.”

“Thank you, Mr. White,” Clark said, taking the man’s outstretched hand and giving it a hearty shake.

“Wait, you want me to partner up with him?” Lois asked in the same moment.

Perry nodded. “That’s right. You are my best reporter, right?”

“Of course I am, but…”

“So shouldn’t he learn the ropes from the best?” Perry asked, cutting her off.

Lois huffed, but she did seem pleased with the praise. “Perry!”

“Hush now. It’s not an option.”

“Fine. Don’t ever say I’m not a team player.”

“I thought so. Now scat. I want a follow-up on this A.S.A.P. Got it?”

Lois and Clark nodded. Perry smiled.

“Well, go on! Get going! The story sure as hell isn’t here in my office. Jimmy! Get this article into the mock up for the afternoon edition!”

Lois and Clark scurried away from Perry’s office as Jimmy rushed to grab the paper from the editor. Clark followed Lois as she made her way through the bullpen to her desk. She wheeled on Clark once she arrived, her expression less than thrilled.

“Okay, every time I turn around lately, I seem to find you there. What are you? Some kind of stalker?”

“No,” Clark said, color rising in his cheeks. “I swear, I’m not following you. I’m not a stalker.”

“Look, I know I said that I appreciate what you did for me that night in the club, but here at the Planet, you’re the competition, got it? Just because Perry is assigning us to work together on this story doesn’t mean anything. And bear in mind, Kent, that you are working for me, not with me.”

“Got it,” Clark said. “Except for one thing.”

Lois crossed her arms. “And what’s that?”

“I don’t want to be your competition, Lois. But I would like to be…well…a friend.”

Lois’ eyes hardened for a moment. Then it seemed that she softened as some kind of recognition flooded her. Clark saw this all in her eyes. He wondered what exactly was going on in her mind. Clark wasn’t sure he liked the flicker in her eyes.

“You.” she said after a moment. “It was you.”

“Me?” Clark pointed to himself in confusion.

“In the Congo. You’re the mysterious man who saved my life.”

Clark felt a searing bolt of fear flash through his entire body. She recognized him. He wondered how. Then, belatedly, he recalled calling himself ‘a friend’ in exactly the same tone of voice nearly a year before.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I am.”

Lois shook her head, looking dazed. “You…you…saved my life,” she repeated. “But…how? Why? How did you know?”

Clark shrugged, uncomfortable. “I overheard you talking about the gunrunning story. And I…I don’t know…sort of…kept an eye out. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. You needed to stay safe…and to write your article. You needed to bring those men down.”

“I won an award for that.”

Clark nodded. “I know.”

“You do?”

He nodded again. “I’ve always admired your work,” he admitted. “And I did keep tabs on the journalism community here at home, even when I was living overseas. Especially your work, Lois. You’re the best journalist I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.”

“Oh, I…thank you. That’s quite the compliment,” Lois said, brushing her hair back from her face, looking slightly embarrassed. “So…can I ask? What were you doing in the Congo? Since, I mean, you obviously weren’t after the gunrunners.”

Clark sighed and shrugged, trying not to look depressed as he thought back to those days on the run.

“I was there pretty much completely by accident. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I just…got diverted…as I was moving around. It doesn’t really matter. I’m just happy that I was there when it counted.”

“All this time, I’ve wondered who that man was in the shadows. I would have been murdered that night. How can I ever repay you?”

Clark smiled. “You already have. You gave me the idea to keep my eyes peeled for a story when you told me not to give up with Mr. White.”

Lois gave him a tentative smile. “Come on. We have a story to chase…partner.”

Clark chuckled. “We do. Just give me a minute, okay?”

“A minute? Clark, what on Earth can be so important that it can’t wait until later?”

Clark flashed her a brilliant smile. “Well, I’m due to start my other job in five minutes. I need to let them know that I probably won’t be making it in.”

Lois laughed. “Oh.”

***

June 22, 1994

“Morning, Lois,” Clark said cheerfully as he swept into the newsroom, juggling a couple of cups of coffee and a box of donuts.

“Morning,” Lois replied, looking up from her computer screen.

“I come bearing breakfast,” Clark announced, setting down his offerings on her desk with a flourish. “My humble tribute to the writing gods.”

Lois eyed the spread appreciatively. “Thanks. Your tribute is deemed acceptable.”

Clark chuckled. “Don’t mention it.”

“Oh, hey. I saw that you filed the murder-suicide story last night.”

“I did.”

“Nice work.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, sitting on the edge of his partner’s desk and happily biting into a powdered donut. “Uh, Lois? Can I, uh, talk to you about something?”

Lois groaned. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, Clark, you have that tone in your voice.”

“Tone? What tone?”

She nodded. “The ‘I’m going to say something that Lois isn’t going to like’ tone.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Clark tried to assure her.

“Oh really?”

“Well…at least, I hope.”

“Okay, Farm Boy, you’ve got my interest up. What’s going on?”

“Well,” Clark said, swallowing down the last bite of his donut. “I was wondering…would you maybe like to…go out with me?”

“Go out? You mean like on a date?”

Clark nodded shyly. “Exactly.”

“Clark, I…we’re partners.”

“And best friends,” he put in helpfully.

“That’s exactly my point! I’m not sure we should jeopardize what we have. I mean, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“Lois, believe me, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I’m willing to give this a chance. If you are, that is.”

“I don’t know…Why now? Can’t you just enjoy what we have?”

“Look, Lois, I’m not just pulling this out of nowhere. I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since you interviewed me after the 1987 Metropolis University/Midwestern State football game. And since I came to live in Metropolis full time, I’m been biding my time. At first, I was ashamed to ask you out. I was dirt poor…I could barely afford my rent every month, even with three jobs. Since starting here, I, well…I think we needed to learn how to be friends first. If you don’t want to go out, that’s fine. I’ll understand. But I had to give it a shot. Know what I mean?”

Lois nodded slowly. “I think I do. I’d just hate losing you if things don’t work out.”

“You’ll never lose me, Lois. I care about you too much to let that happen.”

“Okay,” she finally said, after taking a deep breath. “We’re on for tomorrow. I mean, we can do something tomorrow. If you want. That is…oh God, I’m being too forward, aren’t I?”

“No, you aren’t. And tomorrow sounds perfect,” Clark said, smiling broadly. “Actually, I was hoping you’d agree to go out with me tomorrow.”

They were both off the next day, so it would be the ideal time for them to spend the day together. Clark could hardly wait. He and Lois had spent some of their days off together before, but never like this. He looked forward to it. It always amazed him to see how relaxed Lois could become outside of work.

“So…what’s the plan?”

“Well,” Clark said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “do you like Shakespeare?” He gave her a tentative lopsided smile, trying to judge by her reaction if she did or not.

She nodded almost immediately. “Oddly enough, I do.”

“Well, the Metropolis Actors Guild is doing Shakespeare under the stars in Centennial Park. So…maybe we could do that, if you’d like. They’re doing Hamlet.”

“Sounds good. I haven’t done that in years,” Lois said, smiling. “Four years ago they did Macbeth and it was pretty impressive. I’d love to go again.”

“Great, so…I’ll pick you up around noon then?”

“Clark, the show typically kicks off at eight.”

Clark grinned widely. “I know. I have a few other ideas in mind though. Dress comfortably.” He winked at her.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can.”

“That’s not fair! You know it’ll eat me up alive, wondering what you’ve got up your sleeve!”

Clark only chuckled and slipped from his perch on her desk. He shook his head and crossed the twenty feet that separated their desks. Lois huffed indignantly, but didn’t follow him. But she had that look in her eyes — the one Clark knew all too well. She was going to do her best to try and weasel it out of him for the rest of the day.

Clark smiled to himself as he booted up his computer. Let her try. He was perhaps the best person in the world at keeping secrets.

***

July 18, 1994

Clark felt that he was the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. In the few short weeks since he and Lois had gone on their first, tentative date, things had quickly spiraled into a realm of happiness Clark hadn’t known was possible. Their first date had gone exceptionally well. He’d taken Lois to the Metropolis Zoo, then for a round of mini golf and go-kart racing. They had eaten at Lois’ favorite Chinese restaurant, then had headed to Centennial Park to catch the play.

Once there, Clark had produced a large, thick quilt and a picnic basket from where he’d stowed it in the back of Lois’ car when she hadn’t been looking. She had enjoyed the rich chocolate desserts and deep red wine he’d offered up. Then they had snuggled together to watch the actors on stage, as fireflies had lazily added their own lights to the show. It had been an exceptional performance, and they had even written up an article about it for the paper together the following day.

When they had kissed goodnight at Lois’ apartment late that night, there had been no doubt in Clark’s mind that the date had been a success. And he had known, beyond certainty, that Lois Lane was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Lois had seemed to have had a good time as well. They had been out several times since that night, grabbing late dinners in some of the local restaurants after work, or spending their free days doing fun, informal little trips. But no matter what they did, it always felt right, natural, meant-to-be.

Clark could not have been happier.

When he thought back over his life, it simply amazed him. His life had started off on such a bad note. Raised by Trask and force-fed brainwashing information in hopes of turning him into a killer, Clark had had an awful childhood. Experimented upon and feared by the very people who had held him captive, he had never felt more alone in his life. Those things had scarred him deeply. Even now, it was hard for Clark to be alone, even when it was just a matter of him having a few hours at night by himself in his apartment to catch a good night’s sleep. And it cut him to the bone anytime a person looked at him with nervousness or contempt, which sometimes happened during his investigations.

But ever since his escape from Bureau Thirty-Nine, his life had steadily gotten better, though it hadn’t been a smooth road. First, he’d found Jonathan and Martha Kent, the parents who had loved him from the first moment they had known him. They had opened up their home and their hearts to him, as well as his future. Together, they had given him a family, a home, an education, a sense of self-worth. And they had helped him to lose some of the habits that Trask had instilled in him. He was no longer a shy child, fearing punishment if he spoke up for himself or asked a question. His parents had taught him to be his own person, and had encouraged his curiosity.

And yet, some habits had never left him. He still made his bed with the tight, neat military corners that Trask had demanded. He still sometimes had to fight the impulse to speak in military time. He still arranged his pencils on his desk in rigid rows, ensuring that they were all properly sharpened and the same length. Files did not get left on his desk overnight — clutter was distinctly prohibited in Clark’s world.

Though he kept his hair longer than the crew cut Trask had forced him to keep, he still shaved every day, sometimes two or three times to avoid the appearance of stubble. It had been mandatory for Trask’s men to be clean shaven at all times. His shoes were kept to a shine and his appearance was always painstakingly neat in a professional setting, though he loved the freedom to slip into a favorite pair of jeans and sneakers when he was outside of work.

Even with Jonathan and Martha’s support and love, Clark had never lost his fear of Trask, or his fear of being discovered. He yearned to help people, but as soon as he did, the old anxieties would arise. Had anyone seen what he’d done? Would they suspect that there was more to Clark Jerome Kent then just a mild-mannered human being? Would someone else try to capture him and experiment on him? Would fear drive people to look for a way to kill him?

For several long years after college, these worries had plagued him, leaving him all but sleepless at night. He’d fled his home, bouncing aimlessly from country to country, looking for a fresh start. He’d lived those days with one eye constantly peering over his shoulder, expecting Trask to emerge from the shadows. Those too, had been lonely days, though they hadn’t been as bad as when he’d been Cameron’s prisoner. At least, during his travels, he’d always had the opportunity to call his parents, or fly back home for a couple of hours to visit with them. As a young boy in Trask’s possession, he’d had no one to talk to.

When Trask had finally died, Clark had lost his fear that the man could harm his loved ones. He had allowed himself to come out of his self-imposed exile. And that was when life had really taken off for him. He had, after some initial difficulties, secured a job at the Daily Planet, one of the most respected newspapers in the entire country, if not the world. That had been a dream come true. And he had gained Lois in the process, first as her partner, then friend, then best friend, until, finally, he could call her his girlfriend.

Everything had finally fallen into place for him. All of his hard work had paid off. Life couldn’t get much better, unless, of course, he were to marry Lois and raise a family with her. He felt almost ready for that step already. In his heart, he knew he’d never love another. She had become an indelible part of his life.

And yet…

He wasn’t ready to take things further than the dating stage. He wasn’t even ready to make love to her, though he’d gotten the impression that he could have, if he’d broached the subject. Just the night before, they had gotten pretty hot and heavy with each other, right in Clark’s own bed. It had taken a superhuman effort not to take advantage of the situation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Lois in that way. He’d fantasized about it. Dreamt about it. But he had long ago decided that he needed to be completely honest about himself with the woman he would wind up sharing himself with. He couldn’t just sleep with Lois without her knowing everything about him — even his super side. It wouldn’t be fair to her to keep her in the dark, especially if they did get serious. And it wouldn’t be fair to him either. He was tired of having to hide who he really was with everyone. He felt guilty about keeping secrets from Lois. She was the one person in all the world that he was closest to. She held his heart.

But he wasn’t quite ready to share with her. He was no longer afraid that she would use the information against him. He was confident that she wouldn’t run to Perry with the story of how Clark Kent, investigative journalist and adopted son of two simple farmers, was really an alien being from a planet called Krypton. He trusted that Lois would keep his secret in confidence.

The problem was finding the way to tell her.

It wasn’t something he could casually discuss over takeout dinner and a movie. It wasn’t a subject that a person brought up while driving to interview a source. It wasn’t something he could mention while hitting some baseballs at the Metropolis batting cages with her. And even if the perfect opportunity did arise, what words could he possibly say to her? How could he make her understand just how difficult it would be for him to divulge such sensitive information? Would the revelation disgust her? Would she be revolted that he wasn’t exactly the same species as she was? Would she stop loving him? Would she throw their relationship away?

The questions gnawed at Clark like rabid wolverines. They haunted his mind every single time he attempted to find a way to tell her. On a very real level, he was terrified. On the other hand, he didn’t want to hide from her forever. He needed to know if she could accept him or not.

Determination settled over him. He would find a way. He had to.

***

July 28, 1994

Clark finished the final preparations, cleaning his already spotless apartment. It had taken him some time and effort, as well as a healthy dose of cheating with his powers, but his new place was finally livable. It had taken months to find a decent place, and although 344 Clinton had been in shambles when Clark had first seen it, it had also held real potential. But, with a little paint and some cleaning products, he’d turned the place into his home in a matter of days.

He had to hand it to himself, he was impressed with what he had managed to accomplish. Everything gleamed. Everything was fresh. Everything was in its proper place, his possessions all placed with military precision. He was content.

A knock at the door pulled his attention from his critical appraisal of his new home. He peered through the door, x-raying right through the curtains hanging before the glass panes. Beyond, he could see Lois standing there, a plant of some kind in her arms. Clark quickly pulled on his glasses and jogged up the few steps to the landing.

“Coming,” he called cheerfully.

He could hardly wait to show Lois his place. He hoped she would like it. At any rate, it was in a much safer section of the city. He wouldn’t have to worry so much when she left his place after long nights of working or after dropping him home after one of their dates, which she always insisted on doing. Not that she was ever far from his sight. He usually trailed her home after she left his place, flying high above the skyscrapers and using his telescopic vision to keep a watchful eye over her. He was always careful not to be seen, finding alleyways that were completely devoid of life for his takeoff points. That had been a challenge at his old apartment, since Hobbs Bay had rampant homelessness. A quiet alley was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. But here, in this place, Clark had his own secluded terrace that he could use for takeoffs and landings. It would make things a lot simpler for him.

If only he could find a way to help people though. Day in and day out, he heard the cries for help. And it killed him inside, to have to ignore them. Oh sure, once in a while, if he could help or make a rescue without fear of being seen, he would do so. Those moments lifted his spirits, made him feel like he was serving some kind of instinctual purpose. He loved being able to help people through his reporting skills — exposing the nasty underbelly of society in an effort to correct the problems that needed fixing. But to be able to actually, physically pull an unconscious body from a burning building or a car wreck — that gave Clark a sense of fulfillment unlike anything else.

Clark threw open his door, letting Lois inside.

“Hi,” he said, before leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss. “Missed you.”

“Hi yourself. And it’s only been an hour since we left work.”

“I know.”

Lois swatted his chest affectionately. “Here, I brought you an apartment-warming gift. It’s a mini-rose plant. Orange. Or will be, when these buds open up. I thought it might brighten the place.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, smiling as he took the proffered plant.

“Wow! This place looks great. I thought you said it looked like a bomb had hit it when you rented it.”

“It did,” Clark said, nodding, and walking the plant over to the coffee table.

“Didn’t you only get this place about a week ago? When did you find the time…?”

“I, uh, had a little help,” he said evasively. “Like it?”

“Like it? I love it! It feels…I don’t know…so…you.”

Clark smiled and chuckled. “Well, thank you.”

“Where did you get all of this stuff?” Lois asked, examining the various books and trinkets, paperweights, tribal masks, wooden statues, and other items on his shelves.

“Well, you know I did some traveling before settling in Metropolis. I used to send stuff home to my folks to hold on to for me. I had it shipped out here as soon as I got the keys to the apartment.”

It was mostly the truth, he mused. He’d actually dropped off the random assortment of items as he’d collected it, whenever he flew home for a quick visit with his parents. And he hadn’t exactly had them shipped out to Metropolis — he’d packed them all in boxes and flown them in during the small hours of the morning over the past several days.

“Well, the place looks great. And it’s so much closer to work.”

“And to you,” Clark added. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good. I picked up a pizza before you came over.”

“Sounds great. I’ve been craving a good slice of pizza. Please, tell me it’s good. I’ve been lost since Tommy’s closed for renovations.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like it,” Clark said, trying to hide his pleased smile.

He went into the kitchen, putting his back to Lois. With a couple of darts of his heat vision, he warmed the slowly cooling pizza until steam rose from it. Then he put a couple of slices on plates, grabbed a couple of drinks from the fridge, and brought everything over to the couch.

“Here we are. One cream soda, one piping hot slice of pizza.”

“Thanks,” Lois said, settling down onto his couch. She bit into the pizza. “Oh wow! This is good! Where did you go for this?”

Clark chewed thoughtfully. He had thought about it and thought about it. He needed to tell Lois the truth. And he needed to do it soon, before things could progress any further with her. Now was as good a time as any, in his mind.

“Just a little place I know,” he said, swallowing down the food in his mouth, then sipping from his soda can.

“You’ve got to tell me where this is,” Lois said, her eyes sparkling. “No more secrets about where you manage to produce the most delicious foods from.”

“No more secrets,” Clark agreed, the words sounding like a solemn vow.

He took another healthy bite from his slice of pizza, in an effort to buy himself some time. Lois didn’t seem to notice that he was stalling, or if she did, she wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

No more secrets. The words tumbled around in his fear-soaked brain. This was it. This was the moment he’d both prayed for and dreaded. It really was time.

With a start, Clark realized that he’d wolfed down both of his slices. And he’d barely tasted any of it. He chanced a glance at Lois. She was nibbling the crust of her own slice. He waited until she was done before he spoke.

“Another slice?” he offered.

Lois shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m good. I wish I could though.”

Clark nodded and fidgeted on the couch, feeling completely uncomfortable in a way he’d never been before. Lois noticed and grabbed one of his shaking hands.

“Clark? Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…everything. I just…”

“What’s the matter?”

“No more secrets,” he repeated, more like a mantra than anything else. He sighed, trying to still his trembling body, though it didn’t work. “Lois, there are some…things…that I need to talk to you about. Things that I need to get out into the open. I’m just…so terrified…that once you hear them, you’ll…” His voice faltered and faded into nothingness.

“That I’ll what, Clark? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know. But I just…I don’t want to lose you, Lois. I can’t. You mean everything to me. Everything.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” She briefly cupped his cheek with her hand. “No matter what you have to tell me.

Clark nodded feebly. “Yeah.”

“So…?”

“I guess…the first thing I need to tell you is…that I love you, Lois. I always have, since the moment you called my name on that football field, all those years ago. And as we’ve gotten closer over the last months, I’ve only fallen deeper.”

“Clark, I…”

“It’s okay. I know it’s fast. We’ve only been dating just over a month now.”

“Clark,” Lois said, more assertively. It got the job done, and Clark’s mouth closed in silence. “That’s better. Now then. Clark, I’m in love with you too. I love you.”

Clark’s breath came out in a shuddering rush, along with a shaky laugh. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh, Lois. You’ve just made me the happiest man on the planet. Which…makes this next part all the harder to say.”

“Clark?”

“Lois, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“You…what?” Lois’ voice was disbelieving, but with a harder edge than she had probably anticipated.

“There are things…about me…that I haven’t told you. But it’s time I cleared the air. Because I want you to know. I really do. I need you to know. I’m just…really, really scared. These are things that I’ve been hiding for my entire life, Lois. Because the knowledge…it’s dangerous. Not just for me. But for you and my parents, and everyone I’ve become close with. Even Jimmy and Perry. And I’m so afraid that once you know these things…”

“That…what? I’ll use them against you? Clark, you know that’s not…” Lois’ voice grew a little colder at the perceived accusation. She crossed her arms.

Clark gently cut her off, shaking his head for emphasis. “Of course not. I know you’d never use these secrets to hurt me. The fact that I want to tell you…that should give you an idea of how fully I trust you.”

That seemed to mollify Lois a bit. Some of the harshness and defensiveness in her features melted away. She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

Clark cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that once you know these things,” he said, quickly backpedaling to his original train of thought, “you won’t look at me the same way. That what I have to say will scare you off.”

“Clark, you’re familiar with the term ‘Mad Dog Lane’, right?” Lois asked, arching an eyebrow, her voice challenging. “Nothing scares me. Except dodgy food joints.”

Clark shook his head again. “It’s not that simple,” he said.

“Clark, for God’s sake, just spit it out.”

He nodded. Like ripping off a band-aid, he thought. Swift and with less pain in the long run. I hope.

“I’m not who you think I am. I mean, I am. I mean…I’m Clark Kent. That’s who I am, no matter what. And my parents are my parents. They adopted me when I was twelve years old.”

“I already knew this…”

“Yes, but, you only know half the story. I wasn’t just some orphan kid who happened to wander into their shed one Christmas Eve. I mean, I was and I did, but…I was running away when that happened. I’d spent the first twelve years of my life locked up in a secret military…no, that’s not true…fake military compound. A man named Cameron Trask was my jailor. He tried to brainwash me into becoming his own, personal soldier. And he had me experimented on.”

Lois’ demeanor changed from challenging to horrified. “Oh, Clark, that’s awful! Why would anyone do that to you?”

“Trask wanted me to exact his revenge on the people who had gotten him kicked out of the Armed Forces. But the man was insane. I don’t think it would have stopped there. I think he planned to use me to topple world governments. In fact, I’m pretty certain that he wanted that.”

“You? Don’t get me wrong, you’re in great shape and all, but just how did he think you were going to accomplish this?”

Clark sighed. He had truly reached the point of no return. He had to forge ahead, despite the cold knots of fear that were multiplying and tightening in his stomach.

“Because, Lois, I have…for lack of a better word…powers.”

“Powers? Clark, get real. This isn’t some C-grade sci-fi flick. This is real life.”

“It’s true, Lois. I know that I look just like any ordinary man. But…I’m not one. I’m not even human. I was sent as a baby to Earth…from a distant, now destroyed, planet called Krypton. My birth parents, Jor-El and Lara, sent me here to save my life. My name is…was…Kal-El.”

“Nice try, Kent, but I think maybe you’d be better off spinning your story to George Lucas.”

“I can prove it. Watch.”

Clark pushed himself off the couch and stood before her. Then he allowed himself to levitate in the air before her, hovering two feet above the floor. His cheeks were scarlet in his embarrassment. He’d never allowed anyone outside of his parents to witness his power of flight.

Lois’ mouth gaped open. She worked it a few times, opening and closing her jaw to no avail. No sound would issue forth. Then, after a moment, a scream came from her throat.

Clark immediately dropped from his hover, landing lightly on his feet. He rushed to Lois’ side. He wasn’t sure if he should touch her shoulder or not in an effort to soothe her. He ultimately decided not to try.

“Lois? Lois, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

After a long few moments, Lois’ distress seemed to lessen. Her scream stopped. A dazed look crept over her features. She stared, but it didn’t appear that she was actually seeing anything.

“You…that’s not…you just can’t…”

“It’s true, Lois,” Clark said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lois said, still dazed.

“Well…yeah. I obviously freaked you out. I never meant to. So, I’m sorry.” There was a knock on his door. Clark x-rayed through the wall beside the door. “Mrs. DeLeo.” He frowned, then took in Lois’ bewildered look. “I, uh…x-ray vision,” he said, shrugging.

Lois followed Clark to the door as he pushed the glasses up his nose once more.

“All this time I thought you were just near-sighted,” she mumbled as she trailed him.

Clark reached the landing before Lois did. He plastered a smile onto his face and opened the door. Mrs. DeLeo, Clark’s neighbor, stood behind the door with a grim expression. She was middle aged, but well built. Clark knew she attended kickboxing lessons several days each week.

“Hi, Mrs. DeLeo. What’s up?” Clark asked casually.

“I heard screaming. Everything okay in there?” Her arms tightened across her chest.

“Oh, that was me,” Lois said, coming to Clark’s aid before he could respond. “We were…watching a movie. A horror movie. I, uh, got a little spooked, that’s all.”

Mrs. DeLeo peered around Lois and Clark into the apartment. “The TV isn’t on.” Her frown deepened.

“Well, of course it’s not,” Lois said. “We turned it off.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” the woman asked, eyeing Lois appraisingly.

“Positive. Never been better. I appreciate the concern, but, well, Clark and I have some things to finish discussing. Thanks.”

The neighbor nodded, her short crop of blonde hair bouncing. “All right. But if you need me, I’ll be next door.”

“I won’t. But thanks.”

Lois and Clark slipped back into the apartment, closing the door behind them. Once the door was shut, Clark leaned into it, his back connecting with the wood and glass. He let out a shaking breath.

“Thanks,” he said, his mouth feeling dry. “For…covering for me.”

“Well, what else was I going to do?”

Clark shook his head, pushed off from the door, and followed Lois back to the couch. “I don’t know.” He sank onto the couch heavily, feeling somehow drained.

“Clark…”

“Yeah?”

“I…I’d like to hear more about your powers and your life…if you’re willing, that is. I mean, it can’t be easy for you to be telling me this stuff.”

“It’s not. But…well…it feels great to finally get it off my chest too.”

“And…I’m sorry.”

“For what, Lois?”

“For freaking out on you. It just…caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Clark finally allowed himself a smile. “Hey, that’s okay. You should have seen how badly I freaked out the first time I woke up floating above my bed.”

Lois laughed and Clark chuckled, feeling himself relax a little. For the next two hours, Clark related his life’s story to her, telling her everything that he knew about how Trask had found him, the experiments that had been done on him, and how he’d eventually gotten free of Bureau Thirty-Nine. He told her all about that fearful flight away from the only shelter he’d ever known, how he’d wound up at the Kents’ farm, and how they had taken him in. He recounted how they had adopted him, taught him, helped him to shake off the life that Trask had imposed on him. He told her about his powers, how each one had manifested, and how he’d learned to control them, demonstrating them for her as he did so. He related to her his travels in the years after he’d graduated from college, and how desperately fearful he’d been that Trask would find him. He ended with coming to Metropolis once Trask had died, adding in his burning desire to help people, but his complete loss as to how to do it without exposing himself to the public.

For a long time, Lois didn’t speak. She appeared to be digesting the onslaught of information. Her brow was crinkled with a confusion of emotions. Clark thought he saw sadness, anger, concern, and half a dozen others all written into her features.

“That’s just awful,” she said finally, shaking her head. “Oh, Clark, I never realized…”

His soft voice cut her off, along with a shake of his own head. “No, Lois. That’s the point. No one is ever supposed to know.”

Lois slowly nodded. “So…can I ask a question?”

“As many as you want.”

“When we were in the Congo, and you saved my life…?”

“I picked up on your voice as soon as you entered the bar in that hotel. I couldn’t help it. I heard you talking about the gunrunners. I knew how dangerous those guys could be, so I shadowed you from a distance. The night you went out to gather your evidence, I followed you, flying just above your car. I did what I could to delay the men in that cabin, then followed you back to the hotel. Once I was there, I scouted to make sure the coast was clear. I knew what floor you were staying on, and which room was yours, just from keeping an eye on you. When you reached your door, I was already in the shadows. I heard the safety of a gun coming off and I reacted.”

“And you saved my life,” Lois finished for him.

“Barely,” Clark said sheepishly. “I had a bullet or two hit me in the head. That guy, Karl, did a pretty thorough job in spraying the door with bullets, to make sure he hit you.”

Lois paled a little. Clark’s face blossomed into concern.

“What?” he asked.

“I just never realized exactly how close I came to dying that night. I’m lucky you were there.”

“I was just glad that I was there and able to help.”

Lois fell silent a moment, then she gave him a mischievous smile.

“What?” Clark repeated, relieved that she didn’t seem to be mad or ready to run out the door.

“Well, you still haven’t answered my question. My original question, that is.”

“What question is that?”

“Where’d you get the pizza?”

Clark laughed, the rest of his tension uncoiling out of his bowels and dissipating. “Italy.”

“You mean, Little Italy?”

“No. I mean Italy. There’s a place I like that’s just outside of Rome.”

Lois laughed and Clark couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He leaned back into his couch further, letting the cushions engulf his body somewhat. Lois moved closer to him, slipping into his arms. Her own arms encircled him as well, and she rested her head against his chest.

“Well, that settles that. You are officially the designated take-out getter from here on out.”

Clark chuckled again. “So, I take it…you’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. Knowing your whole story…the horrors you suffered through…I don’t blame you in the least for keeping this all a secret. If anything, I’m flattered and honored that you chose to entrust me with this information. I just wish I could have helped you shoulder this burden sooner.”

“That’s such a relief. I’ve been pretty much agonizing over how to tell you. That’s why I didn’t tell you before now. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the words to tell you.”

“Just one thing, Clark.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you used these powers of yours on the job?”

Clark nodded. “I have. Too many times to recall. Never enough to arouse suspicion, of course, but enough to get us what we needed, or a new lead when ours had dried up.”

Lois grinned. “I love it. Lane and Kent are going to be unstoppable now!”

***

September 2, 1994

Tempus stepped through the time window and emerged in Centennial Park. He hadn’t had the opportunity to check up on this universe since he had sent the tip to Lois Lane about the gunrunning ring in the Congo. Granted, his ability to travel through time didn’t restrict him to waiting months or years to see what had happened. He simply had other irons in other fires in other universes. This universe was, perhaps, the least of his concerns.

Still, it was time to see what had transpired since he’d contacted that infernal woman, pretending to be one of her sources. He was certain that the tenacious reporter had found a way to go and investigate in the Congo, if she was anything like the Lois Lane of his own universe. The woman would do just about anything in the pursuit of a story, especially if it had even a hint of Pulitzer written on it. And the gunrunning story would have reeked of it, if he was any judge.

The man from the future emerged from behind a thick strand of tall hedges. He didn’t care if anyone saw him entering or leaving the universe. He was only concerned that some idiot might try to relieve him of the small device that was his way home. Without the device, he would be stuck in this blasted universe. Not that home was preferable to this time and place. Home was worse, in many ways, with all that sickeningly sweet utopian peace, harmony, and utter boredom. But if he lost his time window, he’d never be able to find a way to prevent Superman from existing, and, by extension, squash the idea of Utopia.

Tempus surveyed the park as he walked along in a stylish business suit. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself in any way. As far as the rest of Metropolis was concerned, he was just another average citizen out for a midday walk in the park. He kept his facial features neutral as he walked, taking in all of the sights and sounds of the park as he went.

The place seemed clean enough, which wasn’t a good sign. It meant there was still some kind of law and order, and caring citizens. Chaos did not rule here. And yet, he could see one of the garbage pails overflowing, the refuse scattered about the can’s base. This was not quite Utopia. He allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps this plan of his would work. But, as he looked on, a pack of Boy Scouts descended on the unsightly pile of trash, cleaning it with latex glove encased hands and heavy black trash bags. Tempus watched only for a moment and moved on.

He wasn’t surprised. Utopia hadn’t started in the nineties. It had taken a long time for the people of the world to start acting together and not against one another. But little things like litter and crime that went unpunished meant that this world had no Superman.

He passed a tidy little newsstand as he walked, just on the edge of the park. He stopped for a moment and browsed the various magazines, cheap romance novels, and assorted newspapers. Quickly locating a copy of the Daily Planet, but without skimming so much as the front page, he tossed the man running the stand a couple of dollars, then tucked the paper under one arm. He made a beeline for an unoccupied bench and sat, unfolding the paper once he was settled.

His jaw tightened. His blood pressure rose. His grip on the paper became so tense that he felt in danger of tearing the thing right in half. He had to force himself not to scream in frustration. Anger welled up within his chest, dueling with his determination. He’d failed. There it was, in black and white, right on the front cover of the Daily Planet, for all the world to see.

LEX LUTHOR FOUND GUILTY ON ALL ACCOUNTS by Lois Lane and Clark Kent.

Tempus didn’t bother to read the rest of the article. He wasn’t concerned with what the billionaire had been charged with, or how long his sorry carcass would spend rotting in prison. He’d always regarded the man with distaste. Tempus thought Luthor weak, in terms of villains. Sure, he was unscrupulous, completely devoid of morals. But he’d never thought big enough for Tempus’ taste. Lex had focused on ridding the world of Superman only for his own benefit. But he, Tempus, was a big thinker. He wanted to rid the world of Superman so that all of society would crumble and dissolve into violence and chaos.

And, he reasoned, ridding the world of Superman didn’t necessitate killing the Kryptonian. Any number of things could prevent Superman from changing the world. Killing him was, of course, the most fun, as well as the most satisfying way. Yet, even if Kal-El lived, that didn’t mean he would necessarily ever put on the blue, red, and yellow suit. If the persona of Superman didn’t come into existence, for any reason, it stood to grounds that Clark Kent would never make more than a cursory impact on the world with his blasted news articles.

Separating Clark from Lois was a good way of preventing Superman from being born. Most Clarks in most universes that Tempus had looked into had needed Lois’ help in coming up with the idea for the Spandex-clad superhero. In a rare few, he took sole credit for creating the avatar of his works, and, rarer still, there were universes in which Superman became the dominant personality, with the mild-mannered reporter being his cover. Tempus didn’t meddle in those universes much. The risk of getting caught was far too high in those cases. And the risk of failure there was too great, even if he did not get caught.

So far, his plan to permanently separate the Lois and Clark of this universe had failed. He’d been all but certain that the Lane woman would get herself killed in the Congo. He’d paid that guy — Karl — handsomely to set her up for failure. He’d paid him to murder the reporter. It seemed that Karl had let him down.

Well, no matter, Tempus mused. I still have an ace up my sleeve.

There was still one person crazy enough in this universe to help him. All he had to do was find him. He wouldn’t even have to persuade the man.

This was going to be easier than Tempus thought.

***

October 4, 1994

“You sure about this, Lois?”

“Completely.”

“All right.” Clark sounded resigned.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Of course I do. You know that, honey.”

“Honey, huh?”

Clark allowed himself a grin. “Yep.”

“I never thought of myself as a ‘honey’ before.”

“You don’t like it?”

Lois smiled. “Oh, no, I do. I think I just had to hear it coming from you in order to like it.”

Clark chuckled. “So…I can still use it?”

“You’d better. What else do you have up your sleeve?”

“Let’s see…Sweetie. My love. Dear. Love of my life. My heart.” He paused for a moment.

“Is that all?” Lois teased him.

“No. I could go on, if you’d like.”

“Later. We’re here.”

Lois brought her car to a stop outside the abandoned, condemned warehouse. A fire had gutted the building several years before. The owner had never bothered to rebuild, since his insurance on the place had lapsed and he hadn’t been covered for the loss. Blackened bricks and scorched paint were still visible as Lois and Clark left the car and entered into the building. A couple of feral cats streaked by them as they walked along. Clark neatly sidestepped the felines, and examined the twisted, melted pieces of metal that lay slumped against some of the walls. He pulled his glasses down the slightest bit, x-raying the place as he walked.

“See anything yet?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn.”

“Lois, maybe Babbling Bruno was wrong about this place.”

Lois shook her head. “You know he’s never wrong.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Oh, come on, Clark. We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Clark let out a controlled breath. “Okay. We’ll keep looking.”

Lois nodded, though she was getting the impression that Clark might be right. The warehouse seemed pretty empty. Piles of trash stood here and there, mostly comprised of empty beer bottles. Either the warehouse was a magnet for some of the overwhelming numbers of homeless people in the Hobbs Bay area, or it was the meeting place for groups of underage drinkers.

Maybe both, Lois thought, as she brushed aside a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

Babbling Bruno, one of Lois and Clark’s most trusted snitches, had contacted them earlier that day with a hot lead for them. The warehouse, he had said, was the storage base for a drug ring. Sensing a story, Lois and Clark had jumped at the tidbit, coming down to the burnt out warehouse at Pier Sixteen. They had anticipated a relatively easy story. They would collect their evidence, a few photographs here, a few swiped bags of weed, or cocaine, or whatever drug there, to bring to the police station. But, there was nothing here.

“Anything yet?” she called to Clark, her voice echoing around the vaulted ceiling.

Clark emerged from what had once been an office. He shook his head. “Nope.”

“You want to…you know…?” Lois made their secret hand gesture, which stood for Clark’s super abilities.

Clark silently scanned the place, ensuring that there was no one to bear witness as he employed his powers. It simply wouldn’t do if some half-drunken homeless man suddenly popped out from behind a shabby, moldering box as Clark did his thing. But, he saw nothing. He heard nothing, except a few birds flying around in some back area, trapped and confused, looking for the way out. Clark nodded to Lois, then went to work.

Using his speed, he checked the entire building. He looked into every office. He delved into every rotting box and sack of trash. He checked every melted file cabinet and desk drawer. There was nothing to be found.

In the span of twenty seconds, he was back at Lois’ side.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you sure Bruno said Pier Sixteen?”

“Positive. Besides, this is the only burnt out warehouse that I know of around here. There was another, at Pier Forty-Seven, but that got torn down over two years ago, and the city turned it into a parking lot.”

Clark said nothing. He only rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

“I don’t get it,” Lois continued. “Bruno never contacts us unless he knows his leads are good.”

“I know,” Clark said. “Maybe he got his information confused? Are there any other places he could have meant? West River, maybe?”

“I don’t think so,” Lois said, shaking her head. “He was pretty adamant it was here. Maybe the drugs were moved?”

Clark shook his head. “I don’t think so. Bruno indicated that it was a lot of drugs. How could they have moved it so fast? Besides, if there had been drugs here, I could probably pick up some trace of them in the air, depending on what it was. I don’t smell anything except, well, stale beer and animal waste. At least, I hope it’s just animal waste.”

“Why would Bruno send us here then?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I guess we’re not going to accomplish anything here. Let’s head back and regro…”

“Ssh!” Clark said suddenly, cocking his head to one side.

“What’s the matter?”

“I heard something.”

“What?”

He listened for another moment. “I think someone’s coming. Come on, we’d better hide.”

“The drug lords?”

Clark shook his head again. “I’m not sure. I can only hear footsteps, no voices. Come on.”

With a burst of speed, Clark flew Lois across the warehouse. He found a small, well hidden crevice within an old supervisor’s office on the narrow second floor, which overlooked the vast expanse of the main floor. The crevice was just barely big enough for Lois to hide in. Most of the office was still intact, though the large panes of glass had been blown out in the heat of the blaze which had torn the building apart. Lois crouched in her hiding place.

“Stay here,” Clark whispered. “No matter what.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Look for a spot to hide, see what I can see. If these are the drug lords, we don’t want them to know we’re here.”

Lois nodded. In the next second, Clark was gone, across the opposite side of the warehouse. From her vantage point, Lois was able look down on the main floor, right at the entranceway. She could see Clark below, looking for a spot to hide. Finding nothing satisfactory, he simply crouched behind the charred remains of some kind of heavy machinery. It was so badly damaged that Lois couldn’t quite figure out what it had once been. He shook his head, then moved to the far corner of the room, and wedged himself behind a different machine.

Six heavily armed men in army fatigues entered into the warehouse. No one spoke. All communication was done via hand signals. The men fanned out, covering the various corners of the warehouse. One even started to climb the concrete steps that led up to the second floor, right near Lois’ hiding spot. She held her breath, bracing herself. But a sharp snap of the leader’s fingers stopped the man in his tracks. The leader frowned, shook his head, and pointed.

Lois’s eyes followed the leader’s finger.

He was pointing to where Clark was attempting to hide.

Lois stifled the shout that was growing in her throat. She could see that Clark was aware of what was going on. Drawing the men’s attention to her would not do any good. She forced herself to be patient and see what would unfold.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” the leader asked, as he crossed the room toward where Clark was.

For his part, Clark could scarcely believe what he was hearing. That voice. It couldn’t be possible. There was simply no way.

It was the voice of a dead man.

“Come out from behind that machine,” the leader ordered, as he and the other men continued to tighten like a noose around Clark’s position. “Don’t make us shoot.”

Clark obeyed, simply to buy himself some time. He slowly stood from his crouch. After only the slightest of hesitations, he came out from around the machine to face the leader of the group. He blinked as he did so. It simply couldn’t be.

Cameron Trask was dead.

And yet, there he stood, alive and well, looking the same as ever. Clark couldn’t quite believe his eyes. The man hadn’t seemed to age. That thought sent a tremor down his spine.

Except…

Trask would have to be in his late sixties or early seventies, Clark knew. The man before him appeared to only be in his late thirties or early forties, tops. Sure, some people aged well, but that didn’t explain things to Clark’s satisfaction.

“You know who I am,” the man said, fixing Clark with a cold stare.

“Cameron Trask?” he asked, the name like poison on his tongue.

“Not quite,” the leader said, mockingly putting a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt. Don’t you remember me?”

“Jason,” Clark said with certainty and sudden realization. It was not a question. “Jason Trask.”

“Not as dumb as he looks, boys,” Trask said, eliciting a chuckle from the rest of the men who were with him.

“How did you find me?”

Trask smiled evilly. “Just like you, I have my sources. They get me what I want.”

“What do you want, Trask?”

“Well, it’s simple, Mr. Kent. Or should I say, Specimen S? I want you.”

Clark couldn’t help it as his entire body froze up. Hearing that name, that title, in that perfect clone of a voice, stopped his heart for a beat, halted the blood in his veins, rooted his feet to the floor. Instantly, he was a powerless, helpless child again, the captive of Cameron Trask.

Jason saw what effect he’d had on Clark and laughed to himself.

“Old habits die hard, huh, S? Glass, Ashton, check the perimeter. Make sure we’re alone.”

“We’re alone,” Clark said, trying to sound as sincere as he could. It was imperative that Trask not find Lois.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know. You’re in a burnt out warehouse, on a tip that I planted. You’re part of a reporting team. Might I be so bold as to suggest that your partner is around here somewhere? Oh, Miss Lane! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“She’s not here, Trask. I’m alone. I was on the trail of what could be a huge story. Maybe something award worthy. I didn’t want to share credit, so…”

“That sounds distinctly unlike the Clark Kent that the Daily Planet has published so far,” Trask said, his voice mocking.

“Hey, it was your own father who taught me the idea of kill or be killed,” Clark said, shrugging casually. “Lois is just a front. I used her experience, rode on her coattails, until I was able to make a name for myself.”

“Very clever. Boys, apprehend Specimen S, please. Now.”

“Jason, don’t be foolish here. I know it’s been a long time since you last saw me, but trust me when I say that I am far more powerful than I once was.”

The men Trask was leading all grabbed hold of Clark’s suit. Clark set his jaw, trying not to show his relief that Trask had seemed to move away from his desire to have the warehouse searched. He knew he could shake the men off him easily, but he was unwilling to hurt them. He’d sworn to himself years ago that he would never use his incredible strength to cause harm to another living thing.

“Oh, I know that, S. But, you won’t take off on me.”

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

“My father didn’t teach just you to be ruthless, S. All those years, I watched and learned. And the thing that I learned was ‘always be prepared.’ I have your parents, S. Or should I say, I have the human traitors that sheltered you all these years. Be glad I haven’t executed them for the traitors they are.”

“I don’t believe you,” Clark said defiantly, but he did not move from where he stood.

“Believe it,” Trask said, and the coldness in his voice convinced Clark that he was speaking the truth. “You leave, you’ll never find them. Not even a bone fragment or fingernail. You kill me, you’ll never find them.”

“Leave them out of this,” Clark said, trying to stall for time while he tried to figure out his next move. “It’s me you want.”

“Oh no, S. Not a chance.”

Trask snapped his fingers. One of the men with him drew a small lead box out of a deep pocket. Clark became very uneasy. He tried to back up, but the men held him firmly, and he still wasn’t willing to hurt them. His heart began to race in his chest. He could hear his pulse whooshing in his ears. Somehow, he knew exactly what the box held, even before the man flipped open the lid, a second after it appeared in his hands.

As soon as the green, glowing rock was exposed, Clark felt his legs go to rubber. The pain was unmistakable, though it had been more than a decade since he’d last experienced it. It was like knives jammed into his body, a lance thrust into his brain. His head throbbed. His skin felt aflame. It became hard to breathe and impossible to stand. Clark crashed to his knees, groaning, and holding his hands to his temples as the men let go of him.

“Trask…no,” he managed through gritted teeth. “Don’t.”

“I’m afraid it’s necessary. You didn’t think I’d trust you to just come along quietly, did you?” Trask asked, mock sympathy dripping from his words.

“Why?” Clark asked.

He had to know. And, more importantly, he hoped Lois would be able to hear everything that was going on. He knew that Trask wasn’t going to let him go. And if something happened to him, perhaps Lois could help somehow. He trusted her, knowing on a deep, primal level, that his very life rested in her more than capable hands.

The agony caused by the Kryptonite did not abate. It grew worse with every passing second. Clark fell forward. He tried to break his fall with his hands, but his muscles had turned to water. He crashed to the floor and lay on his side, curled in a loose fetal position. He continued to fight the grunts and groans of pain that battled to escape him. Every breath felt as though he were inhaling fire and jagged glass.

“Because, S. My father spent the remainder of his years looking for you. He divorced my mother. Abandoned me. Said it was for our own good. He got wind that the police were looking for him. But, he never stopped looking for you. He kept detailed records of his search that I found after his death.”

“He should have…left…me alone,” Clark gasped out against the assault of pain in his body.

“Oh no, S.” Trask stooped and slapped Clark roughly on the cheek with the back of his hand. “He was right to want to control you. And now, you’ll either submit to me, or watch the people you care about die. Boys, take this…creature…away.” He snapped his fingers sharply.

Two men roughly grabbed Clark under his armpits. They tried to haul him to his feet, but he was a dead weight in their grasp. It was clear that he couldn’t stand, not with the Kryptonite savaging his body. They looked to Trask but the man shook his head. He was not going to risk having the box closed. There was no telling how quickly the alien’s powers might come back. His father’s notes had debriefed him on it all — how, early on, during the first few encounters with the lethal rock, S’ powers had taken a long time to rebound. But as time went on, and he had more exposure to the radioactivity, his recovery time got shorter and shorter until it was almost instantaneous.

The men holding Clark squared their shoulders, and, with a little effort, dragged him from the warehouse. Clark’s head nodded freely at every bump and movement. He no longer had the strength to resist even that much. His grip on consciousness was slipping, faster and faster as time passed and the lead box was kept open. He was only dimly aware of the man holding the box, keeping step behind the men who were dragging him, but just out of reach in case Clark managed to muster the strength to lash out with a leg.

Through a haze of pain and growing darkness, Clark watched as he was thrown into the back of a plain silver van. Heavy gray curtains blocked out the windows, robbing him of the much needed sunlight. Trask’s men tossed him in like a sack of potatoes and his head hit the floor with a healthy smack. But he was in such excruciating torment that he barely felt the impact. The doors were shut behind him with two solid thunks after one of the other men climbed in the back with him to keep watch. The man kept his gun trained on Clark, lest he make a move. Clark kept still, not willing to risk a bullet, even if he had been able to move at all.

“Glass. Blindfold him.”

But there was no need. Clark lost the battle to stay conscious and slipped into the void.

***

October 5, 1994

“Jimmy?!”

Lois’ voice sheared through the normal low roar of the newsroom like a lance. People stopped in their tracks at her outburst. Conversations died in mid-word. It became, for one surreal moment, a still-life painting before the wrath of Mad Dog Lane.

Lois was wild-eyed and disheveled, still in the work attire she’d been wearing the day before. Her voice held a crack in it. Her whole body shook and twitched occasionally, the result of no sleep and so many cups of coffee she’d lost count after the twelfth or fifteenth one. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot, but open wide, as if she dared to blink, she’d miss some vital clue. Her feet were blistered from pacing in her high heels. She’d long since ditched the shoes and was currently in her stocking feet as she traversed the bullpen of the Daily Planet. She limped a little from the blisters, but she pushed the pain out of her mind.

Clark had been in far more pain the last time she’d seen him.

The last time. She swallowed hard. Not really the last last time. I’ll see him again.

That had been thirty-six hours ago. Thirty-six long, terrifying hours. Thirty-six hours of not knowing if he was dead or alive.

Alive! her brain screamed at her, whenever she thought of that. Trask wants something. He’ll keep Clark alive. Until he gets it. Until Clark denies him. Until he realizes that Clark would rather die than become his puppet.

“Lois! I’m here,” Jimmy called from the elevator bank.

Lois spun around toward the sound of his voice. Around her, it was as if Jimmy’s arrival somehow signaled a return to the real world. Like a movie taken off pause, the newsroom and the people within it lurched into action once more. Jimmy rushed to Lois’ side, a bag of takeout swaying as he skidded to a halt next to her.

“Please, tell me you’ve got something for me,” she pleaded.

“Shrimp Lo Mein?”

“This is no time to be eating!”

“Lois, please,” Jimmy said, ushering her over to the conference room they had commandeered. “You haven’t eaten anything since nine am. That’s twelve hours ago.”

“Thanks, Jimmy, but my addition skills are perfectly intact.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I can’t. I’m too upset to eat.”

“Lois, look. We’re all worried about CK. We’re all going out of our minds over what happened. But we can’t accomplish anything if we pass out from hunger. Okay?”

Lois balled her fists and tried to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. How was it possible to still have tears? She could have sworn she’d used up her quota for the entire year in the last thirty-six hours since Clark had been taken. She didn’t think she’d cried this much when her parents had split up during her childhood.

But this…this was different. This was Clark. Her partner. Her best friend. The man she loved. The man who had saved her life — not just in the Congo, but in so many small, personal ways. The man she’d begun to envision spending the rest of her life with.

Still, she allowed Jimmy to escort her to the conference room, his arm slung around her shoulder in a friendly and supportive gesture. She was too tired and too upset to fight him. Jimmy softly closed the door behind them as Lois sank into one of the chairs. She folded her arms on the tabletop and pitched forward, laying half atop the polished wood. She groaned in despair.

All I’ve succeeded in doing so far is making a permanent butt-print in this chair, she thought to herself with disgust.

The conference room looked like a warzone. Sheets of paper — scribbled notes, printouts, faxes, maps, pencil drawings of Trask from the police sketch artist — littered the entire room. The table was barely visible beneath the volumes of research. Empty cups of coffee completely filled the small wastebasket and had tumbled to the floor. Pens, pencils, markers, and hi-lighters were strewn throughout the room.

The nickname of “Command Central” had been well given.

And yet, half of what they had found had been about Cameron Trask, not Jason. But the information they had found about Cameron painted a vivid picture of the man who’d held Clark captive for twelve years, torturing him and attempting to brainwash him, studying him like an animal in a zoo. Lois was mildly surprised that the man hadn’t tried to dissect Clark like a frog in a high school biology lab. Lois shuddered to think of Clark at the mercy of that man and it made her blood run cold to think of him at the mercy of Trask’s son now.

There was little to find on Jason. Though he’d appeared to be a military man when Lois had seen him, there was no record of him ever having served. It was more likely that he’d picked up certain habits from his father. Employment records had yielded barely anything. He’d bounced around the country, it seemed, working for a few months here, a few months there. And that record ended a little more than a month before, when he’d abruptly left his job as a guard in a maximum security prison in Pennsylvania. The same pattern emerged in looking at his list of addresses.

There wasn’t much to go on, and Lois knew it.

“Oh, Clark,” she whispered into her arms. “Where are you?”

“We’ll find him,” Jimmy swore, patting the back of her head. “If we have to go to hell and back, we’ll find CK and bring him home.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Lois said, her voice muffled by the table.

Lois had entrusted only Jimmy and Perry with the truth of what had happened to Clark. Of course, she had left out certain things. Neither man needed to know that Clark wasn’t quite what he seemed to be. They hadn’t needed to know exactly why Trask Senior had kept Clark locked away in some unknown location for his entire childhood. Neither had the police. In fact, they hadn’t even been all that interested in much of Clark’s dealings with Cameron. They had grilled Lois on what Jason had said and done, what he had looked like, what Clark had said and done. Lois had kept it as truthful as possible, while protecting Clark’s secret.

Henderson had promised to call her if they found anything, but so far, neither her work phone nor her cell had rung with any news about Clark. Her beeper was traitorously silent. Lois was growing more frustrated by the minute. Every ring of any phone sent her heart straight into her throat. Every time she realized that it wasn’t for her, or wasn’t Henderson, the disappointment threatened to shatter her.

Jimmy unpacked the cartons of Chinese takeout. He placed Lois’ food and drink before her on the table, then set out his own, along with Perry’s. A moment later, the editor came into the room. He settled himself in his customary seat and sighed. Lois peeled herself off the tabletop and looked at her boss. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the last thirty-six hours or so when Lois had burst into his office in tears and, blubbering, had told him what had happened to Clark.

With a start, Lois realized that she probably looked no better than Perry. In fact, she probably looked worse.

“Lois, honey, you look beat,” Perry said gently.

“I’m fine,” Lois lied. “You have any news?”

“Well, I just got off the phone with Bill Henderson,” Perry hedged.

Lois’ drooping eyes snapped open. “Does he have anything yet?”

Perry shook his head. “Not a damned thing. Uh, not yet, that is. I’m sure he’ll find something soon.”

“We’re spinning our wheels,” Lois complained, opening her food container. She picked at the Shrimp Lo Mein with a disinterested pair of chopsticks. “That nutcase has had Clark for a day and a half. He could have taken him anywhere by now. He might not even be in the country anymore for all we know.”

She popped a shrimp into her mouth and chewed, more through force of habit than anything else. She really wasn’t hungry. Not even chocolate, her favorite food in the entire world, could have possibly been appetizing to her.

“I doubt it,” Perry said, shaking his graying head again. “Clark won’t go quietly and if I were Trask, I wouldn’t exactly want to be in public with someone making a fuss. Especially since Clark is a well-recognized person in Metropolis, thanks to all those Daily Planet Lane and Kent posters on almost every street corner. The word is out. Every news outlet — television, radio, and paper — has gotten the word out about Clark’s kidnapping.”

“Maybe. But, what if he…he…” Lois couldn’t finish.

“He won’t,” Perry tried to assure her. “It seems like he wants something from Clark. He won’t just…you know.”

“Oh, Perry, you didn’t see how much pain Clark was in. His fear.” Lois shook her head. “And you know Clark. He’s not going to give in to whatever wacko demands Trask makes. When he doesn’t…I’m just…terrified. I can’t lose him, Chief. I won’t lose him.”

Perry couldn’t say anything. He only nodded. The three ate in silence for a few minutes, Lois picking at her food like a bird. Jimmy had gone to her favorite takeout place, but this time Lois barely even tasted it.

No, not my favorite place, she thought. Just my favorite takeout in Metropolis. That place in China that Clark usually goes to for our takeout is so much better. Oh, Clark. Where are you? Please, be okay. I’ll die myself before I lose you. I just need…something…some clue to go on. I’ll bring down the entire army down on Trask’s head if I need to. Just hang in there, Clark.

“Lois? Honey?” Perry was gazing intently at her.

With a start, she realized that he’d called to her more than once already. She swallowed a bite of rice. “Sorry, Chief. What did you say?”

“I said, have you had any luck in getting contact with Clark’s parents?”

Lois shook her head. “None. I’ve tried just about every half hour. No one is picking up. I think Trask was telling the truth when he threatened Clark with killing his parents. I’d hoped it was just a bluff, that I would have some time to warn them. But I’m starting to think he really does have them.”

“You’re sure about that? They can’t just be out of town or something?”

“I’m sure, Chief. Clark would have told me if his parents were taking a trip or something. And besides, one of their hired farmhands they use when they’re out of town probably would have picked up the phone. Trask has to have them. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Have you told Henderson your suspicions?”

“Of course I have.”

“Good.”

“Ugh, I can’t eat this,” Lois complained, shoving the paper boxes of Chinese food away from her and toward the center of the table. She’d eaten less than half of the contents. Even that was enough to do somersaults in her stomach and make her feel ill.

“Lois, perhaps you ought to go home for a while. Get some rest.”

“I can’t, Perry,” she argued.

“Now now, it’s not up for debate.”

“Perry…”

“That’s an order,” Perry said gently but firmly, cutting her off before she could retort. “You won’t do Clark any good if you’re too tired to see straight.”

“But, Perry, I can’t. How am I supposed to sit still and rest when God only knows what Clark is going through?”

“Look, I know you pride yourself on your ‘Mad Dog Lane’ side. But you’ve got to give your body a break. You’ve barely eaten and you haven’t slept at all since before Clark disappeared. You’re going to crash out,” Perry said. “I’m amazed you’re still standing, to be honest.”

“I’ll drive her home, Chief,” Jimmy offered, swallowing down the last gulp of his soda.

Perry nodded. “Good. I’d better not see either one of you until tomorrow. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lois grumpily mumbled.

She stood from her chair, pushing it back. With a sigh, she left the conference room, swept over to her desk, and slipped into her light jacket. Jimmy scrambled along behind her, trying to keep up. Lois felt slightly guilty about making Jimmy race to keep stride with her. But she felt even worse about leaving behind her research. Perry would never allow her to take it home with her, she knew. If she did, she would never sleep. Not that she anticipated being able to sleep with her fears for Clark and his parents keeping her company.

With a scowl affixed to her face, Lois walked with Jimmy to the elevator bank, rode the car down to the ground floor, and exited out through the lobby. A lump formed in her throat as they passed the newsstand there. That was where she had first started to come to know Clark, though they had met briefly prior to that conversation. She swallowed hard, trying to loosen the lump enough to be able to breathe.

Jimmy saw what a struggle it was for Lois to pass by that spot, knowing their history. He once again slung his arm about her, pulling her close, in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“It’ll be all right,” he whispered to her.

Lois nodded feebly, unable to speak. She hoped Jimmy was right. She wanted to agree with him. But at the moment, she couldn’t quite believe that it was true.

They drove in silence to Lois’ apartment. Lois sank deeply into the supple leather seat of Jimmy’s car. Once at Lois’, Jimmy parked out front, then walked Lois up the steps, into the brownstone, and to her apartment door.

“Are you going to be all right?” Jimmy asked. “I mean, here, alone?”

Lois nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Because, if you need me…”

Lois managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Jimmy. But all I want right now is a shower and some time to think.”

“Okay. No problem. But, like I said, if you need anything, call me, no matter what time it is. I can be here in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks. I will. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right. Bye, Lois.”

Lois watched Jimmy retreat down the corridor until he vanished down the steps to the main floor. Then she closed the door, locked the numerous bolts and locks, set the alarm, and headed off to her bedroom. Keeping herself moving so that she barely had any time to dwell on her dark thoughts, she stripped out of her work attire and headed into the shower.

The hot water was soothing on her tired body and she momentarily felt a twinge of remorse and guilt over that. There she was, enjoying the basic luxury of a simple shower when Clark was being held captive. She angrily scrubbed down her body, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and rinsed. Hot beads of water rolled down her face and it took her a minute to realize that they were tears, not shower water. She wiped them away with the back of one hand and scrubbed her face free of the salt her tears had left behind.

She toweled off quickly and threw on her favorite fluffy bathrobe. She tossed herself onto her bed, finally feeling the full extent of her weariness. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, but all she saw behind her eyelids was Clark, writhing on the floor of that condemned warehouse, in pain as Trask stood above him. Her eyes snapped open again. She reached for the silver picture frame she kept on her nightstand, with her favorite picture of her and Clark together. It had been taken on their first date together, as the sun had set over Centennial Park and they had waited for the outdoor theatre group to begin their performance. Lois couldn’t help but smile at the image of Clark.

In it, she was sitting before him on their picnic blanket, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms around them. Clark was on his knees behind her, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest. She had a blissful smile on her face. Clark’s grin was wide as an ocean and more radiant than the sun. Even in that still image, she could see the familiar sparkle in his eyes and the depths of his love for her.

He looked so vibrant, so healthy, so full of life, so happy there, frozen in time like that.

That was the image of him that she wanted to keep in her mind. She had to.

Hours later, she finally fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, hugging the picture frame to her chest, as though it alone could ward off any nightmares.

***

October 10, 1994

“Are you ready to cooperate, yet?”

“Never, Trask,” Clark said through gritted teeth.

“Wrong answer,” Trask said, kicking Clark in the gut.

Clark muffled the moan of pain that escaped him. How long had it been now? he wondered. Days, certainly, since Trask had first entered that warehouse and turned Clark’s world upside down in a single instant. Maybe a week. Could it be that long already? Either way, it felt like a lifetime.

“Ashton, please lock this creature back in his cell now.”

The man in question — Rob Ashton — saluted Trask. “Yes, sir.”

Clark couldn’t muster any fight in him. He was too weak, too wracked by pain, too short-winded from the kick to his midsection. Ashton and Nunez hooked him beneath his armpits and dragged him down the hall. He was unceremoniously tossed into the small room that served as his cell. The door clanged shut behind him and he heard the lock slammed home.

Alone.

He was finally alone.

Clark breathed a small sigh of relief to finally be by himself, wincing in pain as he did so. For the past hour, perhaps, Trask had tormented him. He had made demands of Clark, things Clark would never — could never — bring himself to do. Among them was the command for him to fly out to a retirement village in San Diego, where a judge now resided, the same one who had delivered the guilty sentence to Cameron so many years ago at his court martial. The poor old man was now wheelchair bound, blind, and so arthritic that he could barely move on his own, but Jason still craved justice for his father.

Clark had refused.

He would never be allowed to fly there alone. He would never be free from Trask or his minions. There would be no chance for escape. Trask had shown him the bullets he’d formed out of Kryptonite. Clark had no doubt that whoever would be sent with him to kill the judge would put one of those bullets right through his head if he tried to escape.

Cameron had paraded Jonathan and Martha before Clark, threatening to take their lives if Clark didn’t change his mind. Still, Clark hadn’t been able bring himself to agree to do it. Trask had ordered Jonathan beaten, right in front of Clark’s eyes. That had nearly broken Clark’s resolve. As a child, on the very day his adoption had gone through, he’d pledged to himself that he would be the perfect son, and to always protect his parents, no matter what the personal cost. Yet, Jonathan had held Clark’s eyes with a fierce, determined gaze, one that told Clark not to give in. With an effort, Clark had kept his mouth closed.

Of course, Kryptonite had been around while Trask had done all of this. Although Clark had tried to fight back, the radioactive stone had rendered him more helpless than a newborn child. And the pain had all but paralyzed him. Shame burned him that he hadn’t been able to do something — anything — to stop the abuse his father had been taking.

Not soon enough, Trask had raised his hand in a silent gesture for the beating to stop. Jonathan had been doubled over, coughing, and wheezing. Clark had nearly cried as he looked upon the man he proudly called his father. Martha had been white as a sheet, her mouth hanging open, though it seemed her tongue had been rendered mute. Clark’s heart had bled for his mother, knowing that she was hurting for her husband and son alike.

But now, Clark was finally away from the deadly green stone. His parents were, for the moment, still alive. If he had to guess, he’d say that Trask planned on keeping them alive for the time being. They were the one thing, the only leverage, that the man had over Clark. He wouldn’t kill them. At least, not right away. Trask would want them alive for as long as possible in order to try and control Clark.

Still too weak to stand, Clark crawled his way across the tiny room until he was at the far wall. With an effort, he propped himself up, still feeling the lingering effects of the exposure to the Kryptonite. He leaned heavily on the unadorned concrete of the room, thinking, not for the first time, that it reminded him of the time he’d taken shelter in his parents’ storm cellar when Cameron had come looking for him so many Christmases ago. Clark breathed as deeply as he dared, his bruised ribs and sore diaphragm aching in protest.

He looked around the room, as he always did, examining it for any clue as to where he was or how he could escape. Like the rest of the complex, the walls were made of concrete. In this room, the walls were rough and not quite finished. Only one wall had been smoothed down and in three spots swatches of different shades of beige had been haphazardly splashed on the surface, as though someone had once tried to decide which one to use. The ceiling, easily twenty-five feet tall, had exposed wires running to the single naked light bulb that hung in the center of the room. There was nothing else in the room, not a chair or bench to sit on, not a sign or scrawled message to give him any indication of where he was.

But, more importantly, there were no windows.

No windows meant no sunlight.

No sunlight meant that Clark’s powers had never returned after his initial exposure to the Kryptonite.

No powers meant no hope of escape. No hope of rescuing his parents. No hope of bringing Trask to justice. No hope of getting back to Lois.

Lois.

The image of her floated in his mind, momentarily blocking everything else out. Trask hadn’t gotten to Lois. She wasn’t his prisoner. If she was, Clark was certain that Jason would have held her life over his head as well. He was sure that she too would have been brought before him, along with his parents. But she hadn’t been. She had to be safe.

And if she was safe, she would be looking for him. Clark knew her too well. He knew she’d leave no stone unturned until she found him. She was Lois Lane. She was Mad Dog Lane. She always got what she was looking for.

But this time…

Would Lois be able to pull off a miracle? Would she be able to find him before he and his parents were hurt any further…or killed? Did he even want her to do so? She would be exposing herself to real danger if she found and confronted Trask. There was little doubt in Clark’s mind that a confrontation would wind up getting Lois killed. And he simply would not — could not — continue living in a world without Lois.

She was his rock, his center, his soul mate. She grounded him. She gave him a home. With her, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like the alien outsider that he’d always been.

He needed her, as much as he needed air to breathe and sunlight to recharge his body.

Oh, Lois, he thought miserably, I need you. But please, be safe.

***

October 11, 1994

“Good to see you,” Trask said, smiling thinly at the man before him. “It’s been too long.”

“More than a decade,” the man agreed, nodding.

“You must be wondering why I’ve contacted you after all this time.”

The other man nodded again. “The question had crossed my mind.”

“Come, come. Have a seat in my office.”

Trask gestured around the lavish living space. It looked more like a living room in an apartment than an office. He settled himself on a black leather couch while the other man hesitantly took a seat in a matching armchair. The man shifted a little uneasily.

“Pardon my asking, sir, but…”

“Why are you here? Yes, yes, of course. You see, I need a favor from you.”

“A favor?”

Trask chuckled. “Okay, you caught me. It’s more like a job opening that I want you to fill.”

“A job? Is this anything like what your father…?”

“Indeed. In fact, it’s the exact same thing.”

“Are you telling me…?”

“Yes, Jenson. We’ve found and recaptured codename Specimen S.”

“That’s…how?” Jenson breathed, shocked.

“Never you mind,” Trask said sharply. Then softer, he added, “Are you interested or not?”

“Absolutely,” Jenson said, without hesitation.

“Good. Because Bureau Thirty-Nine is a lifetime commitment. I would have hated to bring you all the way here just to give you your…severance package.”

“Is he here? In this facility?”

Trask nodded. “But I’m afraid that, for the time being, I have others for you to see to.”

“Not S?”

“No.”

“Who?”

“Two human traitors who sheltered the alien creature after he escaped from my father’s compound all those years ago.”

“So…you want me to…what, exactly?”

“Monitor them. Make sure that they don’t die on me.”

“Don’t die? Sir?”

“You heard me, Jenson. I need them kept alive, as a way to control S. Understood?”

Jenson nodded. Jason had the same ruthlessness in his voice that Cameron had possessed. It seemed that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. He also knew that if that was the case, then Jason probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if Jenson displeased him. Jenson swallowed hard and nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

“Any more questions?”

Jenson shook his head slightly. “None.”

“Excellent. Now, get to work. You’ll find the human traitors just down the hall, the last door on your right. The guards have been given your description and will let you in.”

“I, uh, need to get some medical supplies,” Jenson protested before he could stop himself.

But Trask shook his head. “No need. We have just about anything you could need right here. Food. Water. Medical supplies of just about every type. Ashton here will give you the grand tour of our humble new compound. Now, go. And Jenson?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If they die, you die.”

“Not to worry,” Jenson said, putting on an air of bravado. “They won’t.”

“Good.”

Jenson stood and faced the man called Ashton. If the man was thirty-five years old, that was a lot. He stood just to the right of the door, in the military at-ease stance, dressed in army fatigues. Jenson wondered if he was actually a military man, or if, like Trask, he was play-acting at one. Still, he didn’t say a single word. He merely followed Ashton as the man began his tour of the underground facility.

What have I gotten myself into? he wondered.

***

November 21, 1994

Jenson stepped cautiously into the small room that was serving as S’ cell. He shuddered as he did so. The room was no bigger than the bathroom in his old studio apartment. It was so small that S couldn’t lay out on the floor stretched to his full length. Instead, the man was curled into a loose fetal position, his back toward the single door. Jenson knelt as Paul Glass shut the door to the room behind him. Another shudder crept up Jenson’s spine, now that he was fully enclosed in such a tiny place.

He couldn’t see S’ face. In fact, this was the first time since Trask had brought him in that he had been allowed to see S. He’d tended to Jonathan and Martha plenty of times, resetting broken bones and administering light pain killers when necessary. Once or twice he’d even had to provide a few carefully placed stitches to both of them. He wondered what Trask was doing to them, or was having someone else do to them, but he feared to ask.

If he had learned anything since Trask had brought him here, it was that he was just as volatile and crazy as his father.

Jenson lightly touched S on the back. The man did not stir. For one brief moment, Jenson panicked. Had S died while he’d been gathering together his supplies and medical instruments? He moved his hand to S’ right shoulder and shook him gently. After a moment, S groggily began to shift, his movements painfully slow and far from graceful. But eventually, the man pushed himself up, turned, and sat, leaning against the wall.

Jenson was horrified at what he saw.

A full beard had grown on S’ drawn and pained face. Dried blood was crusted in the corners of his mouth and beneath his nostrils. He was thin, too thin, and paler than anyone Jenson had ever seen outside of a corpse in a funeral home. His eyes blinked slowly, all but lifeless. Yet, there was still a wealth of intelligence and a spark of determination hidden deeply within those familiar brown orbs.

He was no longer the little boy Jenson had once known. He’d grown into a handsome young man, though his looks had now been marred. Jenson could see that, despite the wounds he bore and his poor body condition.

As S gazed at Jenson, there seemed to be a flicker of recognition there. It made an uncomfortable jolt run up Jenson’s spine. After all this time, S knew him, though he knew he didn’t quite look the same anymore.

“J…” S tried.

“Ssh, don’t speak,” Jenson encouraged. “You aren’t well.”

S rolled his head from side to side. “Jenson?”

Jenson nodded. “In the flesh.”

“When…?”

“Ssh, now. Let me take a look at you, S.”

S shook his head again. “Not S. Not anymore. Clark.”

“All right then. Clark. Let me take a look at you.”

“Don’t bother. Dying.”

Jenson could see that S’…Clark’s…breathing was labored. He looked barely able to continue in the condition he was in. Clark closed his eyes.

“S…uh, Clark…stay with me now,” Jenson said in a warning tone.

“Still here,” Clark said in a small voice.

It somehow reminded Jenson of the little boy Clark had once been. He remembered so clearly how big and bright his eyes had been back then, though they had always been swimming in terror of Cameron. It nearly broke Jenson’s heart now to see that same boy all grown up and teetering on the verge of what looked like a massive failure of all of his organs.

“Okay then. Let me take a look at you. All right?”

Clark sighed but did not protest as Jenson began to examine him. For his part, Jenson worked as quickly and as gently as he could. Clark hadn’t been joking when he’d said that he was dying. From what Jenson knew of Clark’s unique body, it did indeed appear to be teetering on the brink of shutting completely down. Jenson did his best to keep his face neutral, but it didn’t seem to fool Clark.

“Told you,” he wheezed out.

A fit of coughing seized Clark. For a long few minutes, all he could do was cough into his hand, grimacing against the pain that shot through his body. When he was done, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Jenson could see the spots and smears of blood on Clark’s skin, though the man quickly tried to wipe the evidence away on his tattered clothing.

“Let me help you,” Jenson pleaded, grasping Clark’s wrist.

“Nothing to you can do,” Clark said, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. “Too late for me.”

“Clark, that’s not true. I can help you, if you let me.”

Clark stirred, seeming to gather some scraps of energy. “You want to help? Get my parents out of here. Trask…he…”

“I know. I’ve been caring for them for a while now.”

“Haven’t seen them in a few days. Are they…?”

“They are battered and bruised, but alive. A little on the underfed side, but otherwise healthy.”

Clark let out a quavering sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Clark…it will go much easier on you if you just…do whatever Jason asks of you. You have to know that. I refuse to believe that you want him to kill you. And he will. You know that as well as I do.”

“I know. But I won’t kill for him. I’d rather die. Please, Jenson. Just let me die.”

“And your parents? Do you want to see them die?”

“No,” Clark said, choking back another cough. “Of course not.”

“Then just do what Jason says.”

“Not who I am,” Clark said. It appeared that his energy reserves were dropping again.

“Look, Clark, I know Jason’s not the most stable guy. But if you value your life…”

“No,” Clark said, firmly, as if all of his remaining strength was behind that single word. “Never.”

“Damn it, Clark! I’m trying to help you!” Jenson pleaded.

But Clark’s eyes had slid shut, the last dregs of his energy spent. Jenson checked his vitals. They were still strong enough that he didn’t have to worry about immediate death, though he wondered how quickly that might change. For a long time, Jenson just crouched next to Clark’s sleeping form. But Clark did not reawaken. After a time, Jenson stood, shaking his head at Clark’s stubbornness, and at the brutality of the situation.

He wanted to help. He really did. But there was only so much that he could do. He would try to get some extra rations of food to Clark. He would do his best to convince Trask that Clark would die without it. But he doubted that Trask would care. If only Clark would just do something — anything — to help himself out.

Jenson put his back to Clark and raised a fist to knock on the door, alerting the guards to the fact that he was ready to leave Clark’s cell. But at that moment, Clark shifted and murmured quietly.

“Lois,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, though his tongue sounded heavy in his sleep.

***

November 22, 1994

“Lois? Could I see you in my office a moment?”

Lois sighed and looked up from the stack of research before her in the conference room. Still dubbed “Command Center,” it was in worse shape now than it had been the day after Clark had been captured.

“Sure, Chief,” she answered, wearily pushing herself up out of her chair.

Perry pulled his head back through the door and led Lois over to his office. He shut the door behind her, then pulled closed the shades, blocking them out of view of everyone else in the bullpen. The late fall sun had already set and the lights of Metropolis twinkled beyond the windows behind Perry’s desk.

Lois had once loved the sight of all those lights, but now they did little for her except make her more depressed. They reminded her all too well of the time Clark had flown them to the outskirts of the city, into the mountains. It had been the first time he’d taken her flying, being far too cautious about anyone ever catching him in the act of using his extraordinary gifts. Lois had loved every second of the leisurely flight. She hadn’t feared the fact that she had been so far off the ground. She hadn’t worried that there was nothing to protect her from a fall aside from Clark’s strong arms. Instead, she had reveled in his embrace, trusting him completely. She had felt far safer and more secure than she ever had in her life. They had found a grassy field and had watched the stars until it had grown close to dawn. Then Clark had flown her home again, and the lights of the city had seemed so dim to her compared to those heavenly lights she’d shared with Clark.

“Lois, honey, are you okay?”

“Chief, you ask me that every day,” Lois said, flopping down into the red plaid armchair in the corner of the room. “And every day I tell you the same thing. I’m surviving.”

“Have you found anything new?”

Lois shook her head. “Not a thing. Oh, Perry…it’s been so long now.”

“I know,” Perry said, sitting on the edge of his desk and facing Lois. “I know.”

“Has your source…?” Lois asked, but Perry shook his head before she could finish.

“No. Uh, not yet. Yours?”

“Nothing. Detective Wolfe called me earlier. Said they found Babbling Bruno.”

“Well, maybe he’ll be able to contribute something. He’s the one who gave you that bad lead on the drug ring.”

Lois’ lower lip trembled. “I don’t think so. He’s dead, Perry. I mean, Bruno. Not Clark. Oh God, please, not Clark.”

“Hey now, we don’t have any evidence to suggest that Clark is anything but alive.”

“We have no evidence of anything, Chief. And that’s what scares me.”

Perry cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation away from Lois’ morbid thoughts. “So, uh, what happened to Bruno?”

“Don’t know yet. Coroner just got his body about two hours ago. I haven’t heard back anything yet. All they would say is that he’s been dead a while. Probably killed right after I got that call from him about the supposed drug ring that got us into this whole mess. Trask mentioned he planted the lead. He must have killed Bruno right after, to cover his tracks.”

Perry fell silent a moment.

“Is that all, Chief? I really need to get back to the conference room.”

“No,” Perry said haltingly, as though unsure of what to say. Or, perhaps, knowing exactly what to say but unsure of how to say it. “That’s not exactly the whole reason I brought you in here.”

“What?” Lois asked, seeing Perry’s somber mood.

“There’s, uh…there’s been some talk around.”

“Talk?”

“Lois, you know I want to find Clark as much as you do. Well, Clark and his parents. But, Lois, you haven’t produced a page-one article — or any article, for that matter — since Clark disappeared. I’m getting letters asking if you were fired. Other members of the Planet are wondering why you’re allowed to stay on staff.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I need you to start chasing stories again, Lois.”

“Perry! I can’t do that!”

“Yes, you can. You have to. Now, I haven’t pressed the issue this whole time. But I think it’s about time that you got back in the saddle, so to speak.”

“Perry, I can’t just stop what I’m doing, trying to find Clark. His whereabouts aren’t going to just fall out of the sky and into my lap.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to give up your search. But I need you to take a break from it. Cover a few easy stories. Who knows? It might clear your head a little.”

“Perry,” Lois whined.

“No. No arguments this time, Lois. Now, there’s a police academy graduation tomorrow morning. I want you to cover it. Take Rodriguez with you for photos.”

“A police academy graduation?” Lois asked, deeply offended. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m not kidding. I need you to get out there and do your job. But, I also don’t want you getting too deeply involved with anything that will force you to stop trying to find your partner,” Perry said, giving her a sly wink.

Lois nodded, knowing she would never win this battle. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Of course you will. It wasn’t an optional assignment.”

“It’s just…I feel like the answer is right under my nose, Chief. I just…can’t see it yet,” Lois said unhappily, leaning back into the chair’s cushions and gesturing futilely.

“I know it’s rough,” Perry said sympathetically. “But we won’t stop until we find Clark and bring his kidnappers to justice. I promise you that.”

***

November 24, 1994

Lois grumbled as she struggled with the can of cranberry sauce, her ancient electric can-opener smoking as the beaten-down motor started to die. She switched the appliance off before it could start to spark and flame, rummaged through her kitchen drawers looking for a handheld opener, and finally threw the can across the room in frustration when she failed to find one. The can landed with a heavy thud against the wall. The aluminum dented and some of the red jelly leaked out from the half open top. Lois ignored the mess it was making.

“Honestly, Lois!” her mother admonished her. “Was that really necessary?”

“No,” Lois snapped. “But it felt good.”

“Such aggression,” Ellen said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “You’d think we were fighting a war instead of preparing the Thanksgiving meal.”

“A meal that I have no right to be enjoying,” Lois said, crossing her arms and scowling at the offending can of cranberry sauce. “I was supposed to be sharing the holiday with Clark,” she said, valiantly trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears.

“Have you found anything yet?” Lucy asked from her perch in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching the Macy’s parade.

“Nothing,” Lois said miserably.

“And you’re sure that he was…taken?” Ellen asked, not looking up from her task of cleaning out the turkey innards.

“Mother!” Lois exclaimed, aghast at the suggestion.

“I’m not saying that he…staged it or anything, mind you. But, well, how well do you ever really know a person? I mean, look at the lengths your father went to in order to cover up his affairs and the fact that he wanted out of our marriage.”

“Mom,” Lois said, the word more a sigh than anything else. “I know Clark. He wouldn’t stage his abduction or break free and then run away from me. He’s not like Daddy. He loves me. And I love him. Believe me, Mom. Clark would move Heaven and Earth to get back here if he could. And the fact that he hasn’t been able to come home…I’m the most scared I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

“Lois…I…I’m sorry,” her mother said, looking up from her work and reading the lines of pain in Lois’ face.

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up a minute,” Lucy said, tearing her eyes away from the colorful floats making their way down 5th Avenue.

“What?” Lois asked, irritated.

“Did you just…say that you’re in love?” Lucy grinned at her older sister.

“I am. I really am,” Lois nodded, a tiny smile ghosting over her lips.

Lucy launched herself off the couch and grabbed Lois in a hug. “That is so great! I’ve been waiting so long to see you in love!”

“Thanks,” Lois said, trying to muster up another smile for Lucy, and only partially succeeding.

“Anything I can do to help, sis?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve been working day and night trying to find him. But everything I can think of winds up in a dead end.” Lois’ shoulders slumped. She was close to feeling defeated.

Close, she thought. But not there yet. I’ll keep looking until I either find him or die trying.

“So,” Lucy said, deftly changing the subject. “What can I do?” She gestured to the various ingredients that had laid siege to Lois’ kitchen.

“You could peel the potatoes,” Ellen suggested, laying the turkey in a roasting pan and washing her hands.

“You know, it’s stupid we’re doing this here,” Lucy complained as she picked up the vegetable peeler in readiness to attack the small army of potatoes on the counter. “You suck at cooking, Lois.”

“My apartment has the biggest kitchen,” Lois replied, rolling her eyes. They had this discussion at every holiday that Lois hosted.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Lois. She made conversation with her mother and sister, but couldn’t recall what had been discussed afterwards. The television kept up a steady stream of background noise, and after a while, the three women turned their attention to it. It was easier focusing on the old movies than trying to keep up the strained conversation between the three.

Lois could barely concentrate on the images flashing on the screen. Everything reminded her of Clark. The Christmas commercials were playing in full force, only adding salt to Lois’ wounded heart, as she watched the happy couples drinking coffee before a roaring fire, or looking for the perfect gift, or sledding with their children. Clark had told her that Christmas was his very favorite holiday. He’d been so excited about the prospect of bringing her home to Smallville to celebrate that year.

That should be me, she thought glumly as yet another happy couple walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk in the snow on the television. Will I ever find him?

Well after the meal was eaten and the dishes cleaned and put away, the three women said goodnight. Ellen left first, claiming a headache. Lucy wasn’t far behind her, saying that she had promised a friend she would stop by for a late round of post-dessert drinks. Lois found herself missing their company after they departed, the sudden silence of her apartment oppressive, as though the very walls were caving in on her.

“What am I going to do?” she asked her fish, tossing some flakes of food into the water. The colorful fish raced each other to the surface and greedily started gulping down the flakes. “It’s not like Clark’s whereabouts are just going to be handed to me on a silver platter or fall out of the sky and hit me on the head. I’ve hit a wall, and I’m not sure where to turn next.” She sighed. “Oh, Clark. Where are you?”

She had asked that question every day, often more than once, sometimes out loud and sometimes only within the dark confines of her tortured mind. And every day, she had been disappointed and frustrated to find herself no closer to the answer.

She moved to the kitchen, washed the smell of fish food from her hands, and was about to head to her bedroom when there was a knock at the door. Wondering who it could be, she moved cautiously into the living room. She didn’t think it was her mother or sister.

“Who’s there?” she called as she approached. “Lucy? Is that you?”

“Miss Lane?” asked a male’s voice through the thick wood. It was not a voice Lois recognized.

“Who are you?”

“Please, Miss Lane, open up. I need to speak with you.” There was a weighty pause. The voice lowered, so that Lois had to strain her ears to hear it. “I have information for you. It’s about Clark.”

Lois stood for a moment, frozen. Could this be the lead she was hoping for? Her heart leapt into her throat as that spark of hope fared into existence. Or was it some trick, some trap? Had Trask figured out that she had seen everything that day in the warehouse? She and Perry had kept that part of the story out of the papers. The only thing that had been mentioned was that Clark Kent had gone missing while on assignment, and that a report had been filed with the police after Clark had failed to show up for work. That had been true enough. Clark usually arrived at nine am on the dot. Lois had spoken with the police at ten am, after she had calmed down enough to talk in coherent sentences.

“Miss Lane?” The voice had become almost whining, almost begging. “Please.”

Jarred suddenly back to the present, Lois stepped over to the door and began to undo the various deadbolts and locks. She kept the chain on and opened the door a crack to peek out. A thin, wiry older man stood behind the door, a woolen cap in his hands. He was nervously twisting the fabric in his fingers, and his fear-filled eyes kept darting about.

“Who are you?” Lois demanded.

“Someone who can help you,” he whispered. “Please. Let me in and I’ll tell you everything.”

“You can tell me from the hallway.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “He might have spies.”

“He? He who? Trask?”

The man in the hall simply nodded, his head moving so slightly it was nearly imperceptible. For another moment, Lois hesitated. But, she decided after an internal debate, it wasn’t like she was helpless. She had already earned her brown belt in her self-defense classes and was going for her black belt. If this skinny, frail looking man gave her any trouble, she was certain she could flatten him without a problem. She closed the door, unhooked the chain, and let the man in.

“Come in,” she said, her own eyes searching the hall. No one else seemed to be around.

“Thank you,” the man said politely, stepping over the threshold.

Lois gestured to her living room and closed the door softly. The man ambled to the couch and sat heavily. Lois sat in a chair opposite him, taking in his appearance.

He had to be close to eighty. Stark white hair covered his head, thinning in places. It was impossible to tell what color it had once been. He was clean-shaven, and the left side of his face bore an ugly series of old scars, as though some kind of wild animal had once attacked him. And yet, his features were chiseled, hard, though not unkindly looking. His eyes were piercing blue, intelligent and fearful.

“Well?” Lois prompted, as the man took in his surroundings.

“My name is Steve Jenson,” the man said after a moment. “I’m…”

“Steve Jenson?” Lois repeated. “Clark told me about you. You’re one of Trask’s men.” Her voice hardened as she spoke.

Jenson sighed. “Yes, that’s true. At least, I used to be. Or…I guess, I still am. I don’t want to be, believe me. But, I have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Lois said harshly, crossing her arms.

“Trask…both Cameron and Jason…are…were…cruel men, Miss Lane. If I try to leave now, Jason will kill me. If I had tried to leave back then, so many years ago, Cameron would have killed me. I noticed you looking at my scars. No, no, don’t be ashamed,” he said soothingly as Lois flushed. “They are hard to ignore, I know. When your friend first escaped from Bureau Thirty-Nine, Cameron took his anger out on me. You see, I was the last person to see S…Clark…before he broke out of Cameron’s compound. He blamed me for the boy’s escape, as though I should have been able to prevent it. But Clark had hidden some of his powers from me. I was lucky that Trask didn’t just flat out kill me. I’ve borne my scars ever since, a reminder that I will never escape the clutches of Bureau Thirty-Nine and the sins of my past. Then, not long ago, I heard tale that Cameron had died. I thought I was free.”

“But his son was still out there,” Lois supplied.

Jenson nodded. “Yes. Jason recently contacted me. He said he needed to speak with me. Like a fool, I went to him, never once imagining that he’d resurrected the Bureau. Never once did I, in my wildest dreams, imagine that he’d managed to recapture S.”

“What did Trask want from you?”

“One of my jobs under the reign of Cameron was to monitor the alien’s…Clark’s…health. Of course, he was always healthy, more than any human being I’d ever met, before or since.”

“So…what? Jason wanted to make sure that Clark…stayed healthy? I’m not buying it.”

Jenson shook his head. “Not exactly. My job was to ensure that Clark didn’t die.”

Lois’ heart seized up. “Was? What do you mean, was? Clark’s not…not…please, tell me he’s not…”

Jenson shook his head again, ever so slightly. “No. Not yet. But I fear time is running out for him. He’s sick, Miss Lane. Terribly, terribly sick. There isn’t much time left for him, I’m afraid.”

“Can’t you do something?” Lois practically shouted, a few frightened tears slipping past her eyelids and down her cheeks.

“I’ve tried, Miss Lane. But Clark’s body doesn’t work like yours or mine. I can’t just administer some kind of medication to him. His body would burn it off too quickly for it to have any effect. He needs sunlight for his body to heal itself properly. But the sunlight will restore his powers too. And Jason won’t risk that. I don’t think he even cares one way or another if Clark lives or dies anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean, anymore?”

Jenson sighed. “I haven’t been privy to everything, you must understand that. But I’ve kept my eyes and ears open. Cameron had a plan to use Clark and his abilities to exact revenge on the people who’d once wronged him. But as Clark grew, so did Trask’s plans. He wanted to use Clark to crush world governments.”

Lois nodded. “I’ve heard something to this effect before, from Clark.”

“Well,” Jenson continued. “Let’s just say that the rotten apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Jason wants to do the same. He’s tortured Clark, or, at the very least, has had his men do it for him, I think. His parents too.”

“Jonathan and Martha?” Lois asked, before she could stop herself. “Are they…?”

“Still alive and much better off than Clark is, for the time being. I don’t know how much longer that might be the case, though. Trask has kept them alive, hoping to hold their pain and possible deaths over Clark. So far, he’s refused to bend to Jason’s will. I think Trask’s patience is just about gone though. If he can’t twist Clark into his own willing and obedient puppet, I fear Jason will kill them all.”

“Who else have you told this to?” Lois asked, jumping up and starting to pace.

“Just you.”

“Me? Why not the police? Why not the FBI? Why not the entire Metropolis division of the SWAT team?”

“Because, Miss Lane, I’m afraid. If Trask discovers that I’ve gone to the police, he’ll kill me.”

“He’ll kill you anyway if he realizes that you’ve come to me tonight,” Lois argued back.

“You’re right, of course,” Jenson conceded with a weary sigh. “If he finds out, that is. But if, say, in a few hours, a certain investigative journalist were to stumble upon blueprints for the abandoned underground nuclear fallout bunkers beneath the Metropolis Trade Tower…the ones built by a certain recently fallen billionaire…well, he can hardly blame me for that, can he?”

“Mr. Jenson…stay here and let me call the police. They can protect you.”

“No,” Jenson said, shaking his head. “I need to get back. I’ll do what I can to keep Clark alive. Besides, if Trask notices that I’ve been gone for so long, he’ll be suspicious. He might panic and put a bullet in Clark’s head.” Jenson checked his watch. “I’ve got to be back within twenty minutes. Trask gave me permission to leave only long enough to gather news on the investigation of Clark’s disappearance. I need to leave now.”

Jenson stood from the couch and jammed the hat back onto his aging head. He crossed the room with confident strides and reached for the doorknob.

“Jenson, wait,” Lois called after him. He turned toward her. “How long have you known that Clark was in trouble?”

“Not long. A few days now.”

“And you’re only just coming to me now?”

Jenson sighed regretfully. “It took me some time to figure out who he was. When I spoke with him, he said his name was Clark. He mumbled your name once, in his sleep. I just didn’t put the pieces together until tonight, when Trask asked me to check on the state of things above ground. I’m sorry for that. And…well…Trask keeps a close eye on everything. I haven’t been allowed to leave the compound before now.”

Lois sighed, but nodded. “One more thing. Why? Why are you helping Clark? Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you,” she quickly added.

For a moment, Jenson just stood there. He sighed heavily. “Because, Miss Lane, no matter how hard I tried, I failed as a scientist. I was supposed to merely observe and experiment, that was all. But, I could never detach myself fully from the boy. I used to find myself forgetting that he isn’t human. He was simply a frightened young boy. And now, he’s a hurting, abused, and dying man. As much as you might not believe it, I care about him, and I don’t want to see him lose his life.”

With that, Jenson opened the door, stepped through the opening, and shut the door behind him. Lois bounded after him, threw open the door, and searched the hall. For an old man, Jenson had moved swiftly. Lois hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank the man for his information.

Assuming it was true.

Assuming he wasn’t working for Trask in order to ensnare her as well.

“No,” Lois said, to no one in particular, as she closed the door to her apartment again. “I’ve seen liars before. Jenson was telling me the truth. Clark, just hold on for me a little while longer,” she whispered to the empty air around her. “I’m coming. And I’m bringing Metropolis’ finest with me. Trask will either be in handcuffs or a body bag by the morning.”

***

November 25, 1994

Lois grimly strapped on the bullet-proof vest that Inspector Bill Henderson had provided her. It was snug-fitting even on her lean body, but that didn’t bother her. The snugness would protect her. What really mattered was that they were moments from storming the nuclear fallout bunker beneath the Metropolis Trade Tower. Moments from confronting Trask. Moments from rescuing Clark.

Please, Clark, she thought to herself. Just hang on a little longer. I’m right outside. I’m coming for you. Please, be alive when I get there.

“Lois?” Henderson asked, breaking her train of thought. “Are you all right? If you’re having second thoughts…”

“No,” she sharply cut him off. “I’m fine, Bill, really.”

Henderson nodded. “You will stay behind me at all times. You will do what I say, when I say it. You will not argue. Got it?”

“Got it,” she replied sincerely. “But Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m warning you right now. If Clark isn’t alive when we get down there, you’re going to have to arrest me.”

“For what?”

“Killing Jason Trask.”

“Lois,” Bill said, raising an eyebrow. “It really isn’t wise to make threats like that in front of a cop. You know that, right?”

“That wasn’t a threat, Bill. That was a promise.”

“You shouldn’t even be here with us,” the Inspector complained. “It’s too risky. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you from getting hurt, Lois, but I can’t make any promises.”

“I know. As for why you agreed to this…well, you owed me, Bill. You didn’t have anything before I came to you with this lead.”

“Let’s get something straight. You only have a lead because Steve Jenson risked coming to you,” Henderson argued back. “I’ll warn you now, Lane. Jenson doesn’t get a free pass. He’s still involved in this. He’ll still be questioned. And he’ll still face a trial if I don’t like the answers I get.”

Lois nodded. “I know,” she said, a little uneasily, hoping Jenson would keep Clark’s secret intact when Henderson questioned him.

“There a problem, Lane?” Henderson scrutinized her features.

“No,” Lois quickly covered. “Just…worried about Clark, that’s all. What’s taking so long?” She gestured to the rest of the officers.

“Last minute checks, that’s all. We should be set to move in a couple of minutes.”

Inspector Henderson turned and walked to the gathered group of police officers and SWAT Team members. Lois knew the group was the best of the best. If they couldn’t get Clark out alive, then no one could. But it did little to ease her apprehension.

Standing on the sidewalk, in that small hour of the night, Lois shivered. It was freezing out. But the shudder that ran through her body wasn’t from the fast approaching winter. It all originated from what was about to happen. Either they would find that Jenson had lied, or they would confront Trask and rescue Clark. Her Clark.

And once they did, she was never going to let that man out of her sight again, his extraordinary powers notwithstanding.

Her arms ached to hold his solid frame once more. Her lips hungered for the sweet taste of his own. Her ears were already straining for the slightest hint of his velvety voice, though the bunker still lay five hundred feet below them.

“Ready for this?” she asked Jimmy, who stood fiddling nervously with his camera.

She had called him immediately after weaseling her way into being a part of the rescue attempt. Perry would skin her alive if she didn’t make some attempt to get photos of the raid. And she knew that Jimmy needed a major break, after his last camera had fallen into the harbor when he’d accompanied Jeff on a story. An entire roll of film had been destroyed, including the ones the young photographer had taken of the Vice President visiting the Coates Orphanage. Perry had nearly popped a vein in his anger. But, Lois also knew pictures of this mission and raid would get Jimmy back in the Chief’s good graces once more.

“Yeah,” the younger man said, nodding. “She’s all loaded up and ready to go.”

“She?” Lois asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I call her Diane,” Jimmy said, patting the machine in his hands.

“Diane?” Lois echoed, bewildered.

“Yeah, like Diane Arbus.”

“Didn’t she take pictures of people on the fringes of society? The so-called ‘freaks?’“ Lois asked. “Is that what you plan on doing?” Her voice was light, teasing. She hoped it masked the true depth of her anxiety.

“Well, yeah, she did. And no, I don’t. But she just felt like a Diane to me when I bought her.”

Lois just shook her head, mildly amused at her friend’s odd sense of humor. It was no wonder why Clark had immediately become so close to the younger man. Clark had that same warped sense of humor that Jimmy had. Sometimes, it made her shake her head in disbelief. But at the moment, it was the most welcome distraction in all the world.

“Ready?” Henderson asked, materializing behind Lois.

Lois stifled a scream as she literally jumped. “Way to give me a heart attack, Bill. They teach you that in the police academy?”

“I thought you were ‘Nerves of Steel’ Lane,” Henderson quipped.

“It’s ‘Mad Dog’ Lane. Get it right,” she shot back. Then softer, “We’re ready when you are.”

Henderson gave her a confident smile. “All right then. Remember what I told you.”

Lois and Jimmy nodded. “Will do.”

“Good,” the man replied.

They tailed the group of heavily armed officers. The SWAT Team led them all, their rear covered by the regular officers Henderson was in charge of. As silent as ghosts, the unit entered into the building, stealthily making their way to the stairs. One of the SWAT members picked the lock on the door that would lead them down to the underground bunker. Two by two, they all filed down the stairs.

Down and down they went. The air grew colder as they descended. Bare concrete surrounded them on every side in a sort of claustrophobic press. Lois grew more and more creeped out as they moved further into the bowels of the building. Every muscle of her body was tense, so much so that her neck started to ache from the strain.

At last, they reached the bottom. Henderson gave a few non-verbal hand commands. His team spread out, rearranging themselves somewhat. Cautiously, one of the men in front opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. Without a word, they all moved in. As each of the officers went through the door, they took up defensive stances, weapons drawn and ready, covering every conceivable angle.

No one came. There wasn’t even a whisper of a sound. At that late hour, it was possible that most, if not all, of Trask’s men were asleep.

For a tense few minutes, the officers waited. But finally, they gave the all-clear sign. Lois and Jimmy were allowed over the threshold.

They were in a long, somewhat wide corridor. The concrete walls here were painted a pleasant, almost cheerful shade of pale beige. And yet, the whole effect was impersonal, sterile, unwelcoming. Lois shuddered involuntarily, as did Jimmy. Scattered every fifty feet or so, maps of the underground mini-city adorned the walls, breaking up some of the monotony, and adding splashes of deep blue to the place.

There were plenty of doors lining the walls as well. The officers opened each as they came across them. A few would pile into the rooms which lay beyond, checking every nook and cranny. Lois peered into them as best she could. They appeared to be unfurnished apartments. Each one was empty, completely devoid of people and typical homey comforts. Jimmy snapped the occasional photo, but there wasn’t much to see and even less to preserve in still images for posterity.

Deeper into the complex they moved, a molasses-slow column of people. Every one of Lois’ nerves was balanced on a knife’s edge. Every door the SWAT Team opened caused her to hold her breath in anticipation, hoping beyond hope to see Clark there, alive and now safe with their arrival. Every apartment was empty, shattering Lois’ fragile hopes and wearing her nerves raw. All patience threatened to leave her completely, but she forced herself not to huff in annoyance. If it took the SWAT Team three days to search the place, she would have to deal with it. Nothing was worth putting their lives, and those of Clark and his parents, at risk.

Another door opened. This time, it was not an apartment which greeted them. It was a store room. Gleaming metal shelves lined the walls, deep and fully stocked with canned and freeze-dried goods. Bottles of water crowded others. Airtight containers of flour, salt, rice, and other dry goods stood in neat rows on yet another series of shelves. Lois tried to calculate how many months of food were stored in this one storage area alone, but remained unsuccessful. They left the room and continued on.

The next room was another storage space. This one, however, contained not food but medical supplies, paper towels, toilet paper, and other items necessary for safety and comfort. Jimmy snapped a few pictures, his mouth slightly agape. Lois’ astonishment matched the unspoken shock written on the photographer’s face. Henderson pointed to the next door. A series of heavy generators stood behind the metal door. Most of them were silent. Lois guessed they powered other parts of the bunker that Trask wasn’t using.

The group pressed on. Lois admitted to herself that the underground bunker would be the perfect place for Trask and his men to hide out. Not many people knew of the mini-city’s existence. And it was well stocked with anything a person could possibly need, enough for months, if not years. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if Jenson hadn’t lied to her. Aside from the fact that the lights were on in the bunker, there was no sign of any living thing, human or otherwise.

If he lied to me, he’d better hope that Henderson is with me when I find him. Because I’ll wring his skinny little neck if Trask isn’t here, she thought bitterly.

The unit moved down to a new section of hall, turning a corner. More apartments awaited them, some now partially furnished, but abandoned. Most had only a chair or a couch in the center of the living room. A select few had a coffee table or bookshelf as well. But still, there were no signs of life. Lois could see the hard set of Henderson’s jaw.

He might be more frustrated than I am, she thought as her heart sank.

They kept at it, turning another corner. That’s when they heard it; proof that they were not alone in that cold, unfeeling place.

“Wrong answer, S,” came a sharp cry from someplace down the hall. “Care to try again?”

If there was a reply, none of Henderson’s team could hear it. But Lois’ heart began to race. That had been Trask’s voice. And, more importantly, he’d been talking to S, the moniker the elder Trask had once given Clark. That was proof enough to her that Clark was still alive.

Henderson made a few swift hand gestures to the armed men surrounding them. The others nodded their understanding. As quietly as they could, they moved down the hall to the T intersection that awaited them. There they hesitated, checking both branches of the corridor.

“Give up. Not…gonna happen.”

Clark’s voice was weak, laden with pain, and trembling. And yet, there was still a note of defiance to it. Lois’ heart swelled with hope. If Clark was still talking, he wasn’t yet in danger of dying from his wounds, the way Jenson had feared. At least, that was what she hoped.

Henderson shot a look to Lois. She mouthed back silently, “Trask.” The Inspector nodded. More deliberate hand motions were made. The officers took their positions without comment. From down the left branch of the hall, they heard Trask speak again.

“You are trying my patience,” he said threateningly.

There was a muffled grunt of pain followed by a sharp intake of air. A cough rent the air, a brittle, rasping sound that reminded Lois of her grandfather as he’d laid in his hospital bed before he’d died. Every cell of her body screamed silently. Instinct told her that Jenson was right after all. Clark probably didn’t have much time left. His earlier bravado had likely been a front.

“Don’t make me kill you!” Trask roared in frustration.

“Rather die than…,” Clark gasped and coughed again, “help you.”

More grunts of pain followed as Henderson’s men crept down the hall. At some unspoken signal, they burst into the room, weapons drawn.

“Freeze, Trask!” the SWAT Team leader, Matthew Knowles, ordered.

Trask slowly turned away from Clark. He calmly stared down the officers who had their weapons trained on him, as well as the rest of the men in the room. A wicked smile crossed his face, as though he knew something that Henderson’s team did not.

“Jason Trask, you are under arrest,” Henderson told the man in a calm, even tone. “All of you are. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one…”

That was all in the Inspector was able to get out. As quick as a striking snake, Trask and his men pulled their weapons and began firing. Lois watched in horror as two of the SWAT members staggered back as bullets struck them. They were lucky, the bullets finding not flesh but the protective Kevlar vests. They returned fire, and Lois had the horrifying thought that a rogue bullet would strike Clark. She knew that whatever Trask had done to Clark, it had stripped him of his powers, including his invulnerability.

An ordinary bullet could kill him.

Beside her, Jimmy threw himself down onto the floor. He peeked around the corner just enough to see the action. His camera snapped photo after photo. Finishing the roll, he darted back behind the solid concrete wall and reloaded with shaking fingers. Lois took the opportunity to do the same. She lay flat on her belly, hugging the floor, much as she had when Clark had saved her life in the Congo. Only this time, his body was not above hers in a protective blanket, to shield her from any stray bullets. This time, he was in greater danger than she was. The thought was terrifying, but she was a reporter. She had to see what was going on so that she could accurately transcribe the events for all the world to see.

What she saw broke her heart. Though the bullets whizzed through the air, they seemed distant, an abstract threat to her. Though Trask’s men fell, it seemed unreal to her. Though splashes of red blood flew, arcing through the air and spilling onto the floor and walls with violent abandon, Lois felt an odd sense of detachment from the carnage. She only had eyes for Clark.

He was there, doubled over in pain, laying on his side, his face toward the open door. His body was pulled into a tight fetal position and his eyes were slammed shut, either from pain or in a feeble attempt to shut out the fight raging around him, Lois couldn’t be sure. He was thin, so painfully thin, that Lois’ body ached for him. His features were gaunt, the flesh seemingly stretched too thinly across his bones. His breathing was ragged and shallow. Blood dribbled from his nostrils and his split lower lip, the precious fluid dripping haphazardly to the floor in a lazy manner.

It was the single most difficult thing Lois ever had to do in her life, to keep herself from rushing forward into the thick of the fire-fight to Clark’s side.

All of this Lois saw in the span of four or five seconds. In the next breath she took, Trask knelt behind Clark, his gun pressed firmly into the reporter’s temple. His finger was on the trigger, ready to pull it.

“Stop!” he ordered. “All of you stand down! Or I swear, I’ll blow this creature’s brains all over this room.”

“Stand down,” Henderson echoed to his men. Then, to Trask, “You can’t win this one, Jason. We’ve got you outmanned and outgunned. Drop the weapon and move away from Clark.”

Trask snorted derisively. “I mean it,” he warned.

From behind Lois came a new set of footsteps. But she dared not turn around. Her eyes were glued to Clark, as if her gaze alone could protect him.

“Jason, stop this madness,” she heard the cool, calm voice of Jenson say. “The officer is right. This can only end badly for you.”

“You!” Trask roared, his eyes wide and wild. “You tipped them off, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Traitor!”

Trask’s gun left Clark so quickly it was almost like he himself possessed super speed. He squeezed off three expertly placed bullets. Jenson gave a strangled cry and went down. At the same instant, Henderson’s gun came up.

One shot was all it took.

Trask’s body jerked backwards at the impact. A single bullet hole in the center of his head oozed out blood and brains alike. Suddenly finding themselves leaderless, the rest of the standing guards dropped their weapons and put their hands up in surrender. Henderson motioned for half of his team to make the arrests and to check on the men who were down. The rest he sent back out, to see if there were any others left in the bunker, and to look for Jonathan and Martha Kent.

“Bill?” Lois asked, standing up.

He shook his head, not needing her to finish her question. “Not yet, Lois. Give us a few more minutes.”

Henderson himself stooped to check Jenson for signs of life. It was too late. The man was already dead, the bullets having pierced his aging heart. Lois was dismayed as the Inspector shook his head. He lifted his radio from his belt as his officers handcuffed the surviving members of Bureau Thirty-Nine.

“This is Henderson. Bunker is secure. Suspect and several hostiles dead. Several others in custody. Send medical personnel.” He looked away for a brief moment

as the officers returned. It seemed there was little left to the bunker.

Lois followed his gaze. She saw, to her great relief, Clark’s parents being escorted toward them by a couple of SWAT officers. She rushed to them, knowing that Henderson would not yet allow her to enter the room where Clark was, as a couple of the officers were still checking on the wounded and dead.

“All friendly units alive,” Henderson confirmed into his radio. For the first time in ages, Lois saw a genuine smile cross the man’s face.

“Jonathan! Martha!” Lois cried, engulfing them in a gentle, but jubilant hug. “Are you guys all right?”

“We’ll live,” Jonathan said, nodding. “What happened here? We heard a lot of gunfire. Clark…is he…?”

“He’s alive,” Lois assured him. “He’s alive.”

“Lane?” Henderson called, cutting off her admission to the Kents.

Lois turned to look at the Inspector. “Yes?”

Henderson smiled again, a slight upward curving of his lips. “We’re all set in there. You…and the Kents…can go to Clark now. Just…be careful, okay?”

“Thanks, Bill,” Lois said, the words barely out of her mouth before she was on the move again. “Clark!” she called out, partly for her own sake, as if to convince herself that he was really safe now, and partly for his, hoping he would hear her voice and fight to stay with them.

She burst into the room, dashed to Clark’s side, and promptly dropped to her knees beside him. He was struggling to get up, despite the efforts of Henderson’s men to still his movements. He was beaten, weak, and bloodied, and they did not wish for him to cause further damage to himself by moving. But Clark wasn’t having any of it.

“Lois!” he cried out, as she wrapped her arms around his shuddering body. He returned her embrace, his arms encircling her loosely. “Is it really you? Please…tell me this is real.”

“Ssh. Ssh. I’m right here,” she said, stroking the back of his head in a comforting manner. She kissed his forehead lovingly. “I’m here. I’m really here. You’re going to be okay.”

“Knew…you’d come,” he wheezed out, struggling against a cough that was rising in his throat. “Knew…you’d find me.”

“Of course I would,” Lois said, the smile on her face evident in her voice as she held him tight. “I love you, Clark. I would have spent the rest of my life looking for you.”

“Love you,” Clark managed.

Jonathan and Martha reached their son’s side. For a moment, they allowed Lois and Clark to continue their embrace uninterrupted. But they could not long keep their desire to hold and comfort their boy at bay. They too sank to the floor and reached out to Clark. Lois felt their presence more than saw it, her eyes too watery with her relief to be able to see much of anything. She pulled back from Clark’s arms and allowed his parents to embrace him.

“Oh, Clark,” they murmured, holding him as tightly as they dared.

“Mom. Dad. You okay?” he asked, still trying to stifle another cough.

“We’re fine,” Martha said, despite the fact that they too were bruised and battered. “We’re okay.”

“What…did he…do to you?”

Martha shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re fine and that you’re alive.”

“Gotta get out of here,” Clark said. “Need to get away.”

This time, he could not squash the cough that had built up in his throat. He was forced to let it come, a dry, harsh, hacking sound. It lasted for a long minute. Lois could see the droplets of blood on his hand when he pulled it away once the cough subsided.

“Clark…” she said, horror in her voice.

“CK?” Jimmy echoed, standing awkwardly off to one side. “That’s…uh…”

“I know.” He sighed heavily, from weariness or in reluctant acceptance of his poor condition, Lois wasn’t sure.

Henderson’s men were still assessing the damage. Trask’s men had since been removed from the room, marched out back through the bunker and up to the waiting squad cars on the street. One of the men found a small, lead box. It was completely plain, utterly unadorned. Curious, the man began to fumble with the lock. Clark saw the movement through half-closed eyes. Immediately, his eyes snapped open and widened in fear.

“No!” he called out, his voice suddenly strengthened by his terror. “Don’t open that!”

The man with the box stopped. He looked questioningly at Clark, then at Henderson. Henderson shook his head. No, don’t open it. The man shrugged and handed the box over to the Inspector’s waiting palm. Henderson’s brow was furrowed.

“Kent?” he asked.

“Poison,” Clark said. At Henderson’s deepening look of concern, Clark elaborated. “To me. Not you.”

“I don’t follow,” Henderson mumbled.

“Hard to explain. Just trust me.”

Henderson was about to say something else when the paramedics team arrived. A good dozen or so men and women made up the team, most carrying medical paraphernalia of some kind or another. A few manned gurneys. All of them moved with a sense of urgency. Clark sagged against his father’s chest, most of his fading energy gone with his last outburst. The paramedics fanned out, some checking the deceased just to be certain they were truly dead and beyond all help. The rest gently examined Trask’s victims.

Jonathan and Martha could not hide their worry as a couple of the medical team members began to check Clark’s vital signs. Lois could see the growing apprehension the Kents were experiencing. It matched her own. The last thing she wanted was for Clark’s secret to be exposed. It would only put him in further danger, if the world knew. She trusted Henderson, but the rest of the officers were unfamiliar to her.

Clark feebly attempted to shoo the paramedics away. “I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice almost a sigh. “I just need food, rest, and sunshine.”

“Sir, we have to take you in to the hospital,” one of the women said. Lois could see the name of Canton printed on her lapel pin.

“No,” Clark said, shaking his head a little.

“Sir, please. You’re in really bad shape. We need to get you some help.”

“Can’t go,” Clark said, pleading with Lois. His eyes were as big as saucers.

“CK, don’t do this. Don’t try to act the part of the tough guy,” Jimmy implored his friend. “You need help and these people can give it to you.”

Lois was torn. She knew that if Clark was taken to the hospital, his secret would be out. Though his powers were currently gone, there was no telling when they might kick back in. And even if they were absent for his entire hospital stay, no one really knew how differently Clark’s body worked from regular humans. Except for Jenson, that was. And he was dead.

And yet, as much as she wanted to agree with Clark that going to the hospital was a bad idea, she was too scared for his health. What if his condition only got worse? What could they do for him back at his apartment? Surely a hospital full of doctors and nurses could find some way to ensure that Clark recovered from his nightmarish ordeal.

Lois opened her mouth to speak, unsure of exactly what she was going to say. For a few seconds, she merely gaped, speechless. When the words came, they surprised her.

“Clark, would you go if we were able to hand-select your doctor? Like say, Dr. Klein, for instance?”

Clark understood Lois’ hidden meaning. He nodded. “Dr. Klein would be perfect.”

“From S.T.A.R. Labs?” Canton asked. Then, looking at the determined faces of Lois and Clark, she shrugged. “Lockwood, put in a call to have Bernard Klein meet us at Metropolis General.”

Clark sighed in relief, as did Lois. They had had a fair amount of dealings with Dr. Klein in their investigations. As a result, they had gotten to know the man quite well. They knew him to be trustworthy and more than capable of keeping secrets for them. They both considered him a friend, and knew that he felt the same toward them. If there was one person to trust Clark’s unique health to, it was Bernard Klein.

“Lois,” Clark said, as he tried to aid the paramedics into getting him onto a stretcher. He failed as his limbs gave way beneath him. “Take the box. Dr. Klein will know what to do with it.”

Henderson shook his head. “I can’t allow that, Clark,” he said, sounding apologetic.

“Please, Bill. I’ll explain later.”

Henderson hesitantly nodded. “All right. But I will be the one to give it to him.” Then he turned to everyone else in the room. “Okay folks, let’s get these people out of here and get this crime scene processed.”

Canton pulled a warm sheet over Clark’s body, strapped him to the gurney, and began to wheel him out of the room. Jonathan and Martha refused the ones that awaited them, choosing instead to walk behind their son. Lois and Jimmy followed, the hall not being big enough to walk four abreast. Everyone was silent as they found the elevators that led to the surface, rode the car up, and exited the Metropolis Trade Tower.

It was still dark when they stepped out into the street. Lois caught the look of disappointment on Clark’s face as he looked heavenward. She leaned down to whisper into his ear as the paramedics opened the back of the ambulance.

“Don’t worry. The sun will be up in another hour or two. And I’ll make sure you have a large window in your room.”

Clark’s eyes shut and he nodded. “Thanks.”

Jonathan and Martha were whisked away into a separate ambulance as Clark was loaded into his own. Lois hopped up in the back as well, unwilling to let him out of her sight for a moment. She grasped Clark’s hand. He gave her a gentle squeeze to let her know that all was well.

“Jimmy,” Lois instructed the younger man, before the doors of the vehicle were shut. “Let Perry know I’m at the hospital, okay? I’ll call him when I get the chance.”

“Will do,” Jimmy said, saluting her. “Glad you’re okay, CK. I’ve missed you. I’ll be by to visit as soon as I can,” he added as the medical officers shut the rear doors.

With a wail of the sirens, the ambulances took off into the still sleeping city. Beyond the back windows of the vehicle, the flickering lights drenched everything in alternating shades of night-dark and blood red. The paramedics never ceased their fussing over Clark, starting him on an oxygen line, checking his pupils, monitoring his heart rate. An intravenous line of some kind of clear fluid was placed into his left arm. Lois wedged herself into an out-of-the-way corner, not sure what to do.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the hospital. Clark was immediately brought to a room. Lois helped him shed his tattered and torn clothing and to get into the hospital gown, letting him lean on her as much as he needed. Then she helped him into the bed that lay there waiting for him. She leaned over him, unable to resist the urge to kiss him. Her lips met his in a gentle caress, and all felt right in her world once more. Clark eagerly returned the kiss, as if it alone could heal him. After a few minutes, they reluctantly broke apart once more.

Lois remained glued to his side, chasing away any curious nurses or doctors who poked their heads into that room. She paced for a while, but her energy reserve was emptying fast. She’d been running purely on adrenaline, ever since Jenson had come to her apartment. Finally collapsing into the chair next to Clark’s bedside, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the pale pink blanket that covered him. To keep herself busy, she related to Clark all the things that had led up to the rescue that night.

Soon enough, Jonathan and Martha were shown into the room as well, newly bandaged and stitched where it was necessary. Jonathan’s right hand was in a cast, his fingers broken during one of Trask’s attempts to scare Clark into submission. He limped slightly as he walked, but waved away Lois’ concerns, saying it was nothing more serious than a sprained ankle, and that had been gotten when he’d slipped getting out of the ambulance.

Time ticked slowly by as they continued to wait. Lois was just drifting off in the chair when a knock sounded at the door. She was instantly awake again.

“Someone order a doctor?”

“Dr. Klein!” she cried out, relieved to see the man. “It’s about time,” she added, glancing at the clock.

“I got a little stuck in traffic,” the doctor said, shrugging. “Now, what’s this all about? I got filled in on the gist of things, but I have to say, I was shocked that you’d asked for me. You know I’m more of a lab guy, don’t you?”

“We do,” Lois said, nodding. “But you’re the only one we trust.”

Jonathan shut the door as Dr. Klein moved to Clark’s side.

“I’m a bit of a…special case,” Clark said, locking eyes with the doctor, pleading with him to understand just how delicate the situation was. “Mom? Dad?”

Martha and Jonathan exchanged a weighted look. It was clear to them that their son trusted this man with his deepest secret, but that did nothing to make them more comfortable in divulging the truth about Clark. And yet, bit by halting bit, they told Dr. Klein Clark’s story. The man stumbled to the chair Lois had been sitting in, his mouth agape, though he did not say a word. When they were done, he asked a few questions, trying to discern how best to monitor Clark’s health.

By then, the sun had risen and the first pale late fall rays spilled into Clark’s room. The warm shafts of light were like a caress to the man, and he sighed in contentment. For a long time, he merely looked out of the large windows, almost in awe of the lightening sky, the streaks of clouds, tinted pink in the sunrise, and of the yellow ball of flame that steadily rose over the city.

Basking in that pool of life-giving sun, Clark felt his body growing stronger by the slightest of degrees. His chest no longer ached with the effort to draw in enough breath. His coughing almost ceased, and when he did cough, he no longer found traces of blood on his hand. The pains in his body grew less and less, until he no longer felt any discomfort. Only one thing persisted — his weariness.

After a while, as his parents fielded Dr. Klein’s questions, Clark drifted off to sleep, safe and happy in the knowledge that he was alive, his parents were safe, and Trask was no longer a threat to the people he cared about.

***

December 17, 1994

Clark stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen of the Daily Planet. It felt good, to be back into his old routine again. He drew in a deep breath, reveling in the familiar sights, smells, and sounds of the newsroom. His friends and co-workers bustled from place to place. He could see Jimmy speeding along toward the back of the room, a stack of photographs in his hand, making a beeline for Perry’s office. Phones rang shrilly, fingers tapped and danced across keyboards, fax machines beeped, and printers whirred. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee cut by the strong odor of a new batch brewing in the break area. Someone had brought in donuts — Clark could smell the sweet scent of the sugary glazing on them.

But above all, she was there. Lois. Her steadily beating heart drew him like a magnet. Even after all this time, the sound of her heartbeat intoxicated him. It soothed him. It gave his life meaning and beauty.

He stepped forward again, heading to the steps which would take him into the very heart of the newsroom.

“Clark!” Eduardo called out, the first one to spot him.

At the man’s outburst, a cheer went through the bullpen. Shouts of “Clark!” and “Welcome back!” and “Good to see you!” rang out over the entire floor while scattered applause sounded. He waved and nodded his head in acknowledgement, while an embarrassed smile crossed his lips. He descended the steps and made his way through the press of his co-workers. Hands reached out and slapped his back lightly or grasped his own in hearty handshakes. Clark smiled at each person, and thanked them for their warm welcome back. But always he worked his way toward Lois’ desk.

“Hi,” he said, when he finally reached his goal.

“Hi yourself,” Lois grinned at him.

“Did you tell people that I was coming in today?” he asked, gesturing to the crowd around them.

“No. I wasn’t sure if you were really coming in or not. I still think it’s a bit too early.”

Clark did not miss the hidden meaning in her words. They had discussed at length when Clark should go back to work. Lois had insisted that he wait a while longer, so that no one’s suspicions were aroused. After all, there hadn’t been a single Daily Planet employee who hadn’t seen the pictures the paper had published of the daring rescue of the up-and-coming reporter. Not a single person hadn’t seen the pictures the paper hadn’t published, the ones Perry had deemed too graphic to print. But Clark had countered with the fact that he was literally climbing the walls of his apartment, bored out of his mind. He had claimed to be in desperate need of the mental stimulation of his job.

In truth, Clark had healed fairly rapidly after he’d been rescued from the underground bunker. Two days of solid sunlight had helped his body to recharge enough to allow his invulnerability to come back to him. Once that had returned, his body had healed itself. His cuts and bruises had closed and faded. His broken bones had knit back together. Dr. Klein had allowed him to leave the hospital just four days after his arrival, knowing that if Clark stayed longer, word would get out of the man’s miraculous transformation to the very picture of health.

Except, he’d been a normal person, his invulnerable flesh aside.

The rest of his powers had been gone. Dr. Klein had theorized that prolonged exposure to Kryptonite coupled with the denial of sunlight had depleted Clark’s body. Like an electronic device, Clark’s internal “battery” had needed time to recharge. Because he used such incredible amounts of energy in order to use his special powers, his “battery” couldn’t handle the demand, not coming off such a huge task of healing his entire body. But, over the course of a week, Clark’s body had finally fully recharged. With that full “battery,” his powers had come back. Clark had never been so happy to have his powers in all his life. He had felt lost without them.

During that time, he had spent every available hour of sunshine laying out on his terrace. Though the weather was turning cold swiftly, it didn’t bother him. He would merely lay out in an old chaise lounge chair, listening to the radio, reading, doing crossword puzzles, or talking with his parents. But, though he loved spending time with Jonathan and Martha, the monotony soon threatened to drive him crazy. He couldn’t even get out to take a walk. As far as the public was concerned, Clark Kent was still recuperating from his harrowing ordeal.

Only twice had he been bold enough to go flying, reveling the feeling of the wind in his hair and the freedom from everything. It had felt amazing to leave the world behind for a while, letting the noises and sights fade into the distance, and letting his mind relax as much as it could. He had spent some of that time in that void between Earth and space, facing the sun and basking in its rays, unfiltered through layers of clouds and pollution.

The nights had been the easiest time for him. After work, Lois would come by his apartment. Clark would cook them dinner while his parents went out, in order to give the couple some privacy. He and Lois would share a meal, then snuggle down together on the couch and talk. Lois would relate the events of her day, bouncing ideas off him. He would give his perspective and opinions, and try to help her look for new avenues of information to investigate. But then she would leave again, though she always stayed as long and as late as she could. The loneliness would creep back up on Clark then, and the only balm for that was his dreams.

Now he could stand being home no longer. It was time to dive back into his life. It was time to start chasing stories once more, with Lois by his side. It was time to exercise his ability to change lives for the better, if he could.

“Kent! What in Sam Hill do you think you’re doing here?” Perry called, coming up behind Clark. “I thought I told you not to show your hide in here before New Year’s.”

Clark didn’t miss the smile on the editor’s face. He returned it with one of his own. “You know me, Chief. I couldn’t stay away.”

Perry chuckled and patted Clark’s shoulder in a fatherly manner. “Now that’s the attitude I like to hear. But, uh, you sure you’re up for this so soon?”

“Believe me, Chief,” Clark said, nodding sincerely, “I feel like a new man.”

“Good. But, uh, if you want, I could, uh, give you a few easy assignments. Just to get your feet wet again, you understand.”

“Thanks, Perry, but no thanks. I’m ready to dive right back in to things. Lois has kept me up to speed on the collapse of the Metropolis Bridge. If you don’t mind, I’d like to help her with that one. We’ve got a pretty good idea of who to talk to about the subpar workmanship that was done on the most recent renovation.”

Perry hesitated a moment. “If you think you’re up for it…”

“I am, Chief,” Clark promised him.

“Well then, by all means.”

“Thanks.”

Turning to Lois, Perry spoke just loudly enough for Clark to hear without his special hearing. “You keep an eye on him, okay?”

“Will do, Chief,” she said, giving the man a smile.

Perry started to walk away, then stopped. He turned back to face Clark. He looked as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“What is it, Chief?” Clark asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I shouldn’t pry.”

“It’s okay,” Clark assured him.

“Well, I never asked, because maybe it’s none of my business. And maybe you don’t want to talk about it. But, well, did you ever figure out just why that psycho took you hostage?”

Clark shoved his hands into his pockets as he carefully crafted his answer. “He, uh, thought I could use my…abilities…to take down governments.” He frowned a little, not quite happy with his response now that it had emerged from his tongue.

Perry laughed and slapped his thigh. “Oh boy! That’s a good one. Clark, you know that I think the world of your writing. But, for anyone to think you could use that skill to undermine governments…” He shook his head, still laughing.

Clark chuckled in relief. “Pretty ridiculous, huh?”

“And I thought Jason Trask was one brick short of a full load to begin with. This just seals it.”

Perry turned, still chuckling to himself, and walked off toward the coffeemaker. Clark sat on the edge of Lois’ desk, his habit ever since he’d first been paired to work with her. He gave her a tender smile.

“So, partner,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Shall we get to work trying to change the world?”

***

December 26, 1994

“Wanna tell me where we’re going, Fly Boy?”

“Nope.” Clark grinned mischievously.

“Come on. Just a little hint?”

“No way.”

“Please?”

“Lois, do you have to know everything at every moment? Can’t you just be surprised for once?”

“No! I’m a reporter.”

“Not tonight you aren’t.”

“That’s not fair, you know.”

“Nice try. But I’m still not telling. You’ll see when we get there.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets,” Lois huffed.

She snuggled closer against his neck, kissing him there. Clark groaned in pleasure, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. She was trying to get him to talk, he knew that. He was silently thankful that they were nearly to their destination. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take without breaking.

“Lo-is,” he sighed. “Not that I don’t love when you do that. But, please, I need to concentrate.”

Lois giggled a little, obviously pleased with the effect she had on him. But she stopped raining kisses along his neck and jaw line, instead contenting herself with looking out over the land below her. She clutched Clark a little tighter, her arms locked around his neck. Clark smiled, looked down at her lovingly, then brought his attention back to his task.

Adding an extra burst of speed, he flew them out over the ocean, the waves below silvered in the moonlight. Above, the heavens sparkled with a countless scattering of diamonds. Clark had always enjoyed flying at night, seeing the world shrouded in darkness, knowing that people were resting from their labors. But now, every one of his senses was heightened, thanks to the beautiful woman in his arms.

He’d flown with Lois before, of course. But tonight was different. Tonight he would be sharing a very special place with her.

“How much longer?” Lois asked, unable to hold in her curiosity.

Clark chuckled. “Stop being such a reporter, Lois. We’ll get there when we get there.”

Lois huffed again and said nothing. But Clark could see her smile nonetheless.

A few minutes later, Clark altered the angle of his flight path, easing them down onto the sandy beach of a tiny, uninhabited island. There he set down his precious burden, letting Lois gently down onto the smooth, unmarred sand. He slipped the backpack from his shoulders and set it aside.

“Clark, this place is beautiful!” Lois said, her eyes seeming to dance in the moonlight.

“I’m glad you like it. I found it by accident when I was running from country to country after college. I like to come here when I need to relax, or want to be alone to think, or just need to recharge. At least…I used to.”

“Used to?” Lois asked. “If I could fly, I’d probably be here all the time.”

Clark shook his head. “I haven’t needed this place since I got to know you, Lois. Not as a bouncer in a club or as your morning coffee boy. But as your partner and friend. And especially now, as your boyfriend. You’ve become my refuge, the calm in the center of the storm that makes up my life. You recharge me. You’re my home. Everything I need, or could possibly ever need, I’ve found in you, Lois. I love you. I have, ever since the very first time I saw you.”

“Clark…I don’t know what to say,” Lois managed, her voice unable to hide the emotions swirling through her veins. “You know I love you too.”

Clark dropped to one knee in the sand, a small black velvet box appearing from where he’d hidden it in his pants pocket.

“Say you’ll marry me, Lois. Say you’ll let me spend the rest of my life at your side.”

“Clark?”

He popped open the lid of the box with his free hand. The simple, elegant solitaire diamond sparkled like one of the stars above. If anything, its gleam rivaled that of its heavenly cousins. Clark held the box up to Lois.

“Lois Lane, will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?”

Tears brimmed in Lois’ eyes, and for a moment, all she could do was nod. She swallowed hard, trying to banish the lump in her throat, hating her inability to speak, even — or perhaps especially — in a situation like this.

“Yes,” she finally squeaked out, the word half strangled by the lingering lump that she hadn’t fully succeeded in dispelling. Then again she answered, “Yes.” Her voice was stronger that time.

Clark’s smile lit up the night as surely as a sunrise would. In an instant, he was slipping his ring on his fiancée’s finger. The thought staggered him for the briefest of moments. His ring. His fiancée. Then he was up on his feet, bringing Lois into a hug and a kiss so powerful that they both wound up on their knees in the silky sand.

For a long while, all they could do was trade kisses. They could not speak, not even each other’s names. They could not get enough of one another. But eventually, they pulled apart, needing to breathe, needing to calm their racing hearts.

“Thank you, Lois,” Clark said, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve made me so incredibly happy. Not just tonight. Not just by agreeing to marry me. But ever since you first entered my life. There was a time when I never could have imagined any sort of joy in my life. Being with you though, has given me more happiness than most people will ever know in their own lives.”

“It’s funny,” Lois said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I used to think that I didn’t really need anyone or anything. Well, except for my career, reputation, and awards. But ever since I met you, when you came to Metropolis, that is, you’ve shown me just how much I need you in my life.” She fell silent a moment, then smirked. “You don’t happen to have a priest stashed on the other side of this island, for an elopement, do you?”

Clark chuckled and pointed to his backpack.

“No, I’m afraid not. But, I did bring some other stuff with me. Wine. Chocolates.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Bathing suits.”

“A swim sounds great,” Lois said, seeming to notice for the first time that she was in a sweater and jeans on a warm, tropical island.

“You can change behind that screen of trees,” Clark said, pointing again. “I won’t peek.”

Lois laughed, but rummaged through the pack. She found the swimsuit in question, and wondered when he’d stolen it from her apartment. Probably when they had celebrated Christmas Eve at her place with her family. It couldn’t have been Christmas Day, she mused. They’d been in Smallville all day with his parents.

It didn’t take her long to change. By the time she got back, Clark was already in his trunks, standing at the water’s edge. The gentle surf covered his toes and lapped around his ankles, the salty water warm even without the sun to heat it. He was staring out, up into the vast expanse of the night sky. There was a look of peace on his face, and of deep thought as well.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lois asked, moving to stand alongside him.

“Just…thinking.”

“That much is obvious,” she teased. “What about?”

“Well…I’ve always known that I was lucky, despite the rough patches of my life. After all, I managed to wind up on the right farm when I was a kid. I managed to escape certain death when Krypton exploded, because I was fortunate enough to have parents who sacrificed everything to ensure that I had a chance to live. And of all the millions of people on this planet, I wound up crossing paths with you — not just once, but over and over again.”

“Fate,” Lois said.

“Maybe,” Clark said, shrugging. “It can’t just all be random chance, can it?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is, I feel like my whole life has been leading up to this moment.” She admired the diamond adorning her left hand. “Like this was meant to be.”

“Me too,” Clark said, drawing his arm around her and pulling her close. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Me too.” He sighed deeply.

“What?”

“Sometimes…I wonder. Did my parents…my birth parents…know or guess that the other half of my heart was on Earth? Would they be surprised?”

Lois smiled in the darkness. “I wish I could have met them, if only just to thank them for sending you into my life.”

Clark smiled as well. “Come on, no more dwelling. On to happier things. Let’s swim, shall we?”

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Lois declared after dashing from his side and into the dark waves.

“That’s cheating!” Clark said, good-naturedly teasing her. With a burst of super speed, he was right next to her in the water.

“No, that’s cheating!” Lois laughed, splashing him lightly.

Clark only laughed.

After an hour or so, the newly engaged couple made their way back to the beach. Clark dried them both off with a quick scan of heat vision over their bodies, then set out a thin red blanket. He uncorked the wine, poured them both a glassful, and broke open the box of Swiss chocolates he’d purchased in Switzerland that morning. They leaned against one another, not talking, just enjoying the other’s presence.

For the first time in months, the world seemed completely at peace and in harmony.

***

February 3, 1995

Lois and Clark pressed through the throng of gawking onlookers, trying to get to the front of the mob, as close to the police barricade as they could. Clark trailed Lois, apologizing to the people they inadvertently bumped into in their quest to reach the front. Finally, they reached their goal. Half a block away, Lex Tower was burning. Lois immediately launched into reporter mode, flinging questions in rapid-fire succession to the police and fire fighters nearby.

For Clark’s part, he was gazing intently at the burning building, every part of his inner self coiled into heavy knots. Thick, black, acrid smoke poured from the upper stories, rising into the air like a cloud of death. Clark could see that, even against the slowly darkening sky. Flames danced in the windows; blazing orange, blood red, and bright yellow, with the occasional flicker of blue where the fire burned the hottest. He could hear the screams of those trapped inside; terrified, panicked sounds without discernable words. He could smell the stomach-churning odor of burning flesh and hair, the sharp stench of carpeting as the fire ate through it, the rich scent of wood as it too, was consumed by the flames.

He looked around at the gathered crowd. He saw the faces of the people, stark fear and utter shock as they stayed, rooted to the spot, their eyes locked on the building. His fists balled tightly. He wanted to help. He knew he had the means to. The fire wouldn’t hurt him; it wouldn’t even singe his clothing. And, he noted, it was obvious that the fire trucks on the scene could not reach the upper floors of the skyscraper. As he looked on, some of the fire fighters came out of the building, choking even through their oxygen masks. Clark tuned in his hearing.

“It’s no use. We can’t get past the eighty-seventh floor,” one surly man was saying to the fire chief.

“Smoke’s too thick and every stairwell is engulfed in flames so intense that we can’t cross,” another man put in.

The first man nodded. “Even if we could, it’s just a matter of time before the entire building comes down. However this blaze started, it’s burning too hot and too quickly. We’d have to get it out soon in order to preserve any kind of structural integrity.”

Clark clenched his jaw. He could still hear the people trapped within the building, and his heart quietly broke for them. Determination settled over him, replacing his grief. He would find a way to help, consequences be damned. He tapped Lois’ shoulder to get her attention. She broke off her question to one of the witnesses immediately. Clark bent his head into Lois’ ear, burying his lips in her silken hair.

“I’m going in,” he whispered to her.

Lois’ mouth opened in surprise but she knew enough not to question him, not when there were so many people gathered around.

“Trust me,” Clark said again. “It might be awhile. I’ll meet you back at my apartment.”

“Okay,” she said, unable to argue with him. Then she fixed him with a look that clearly pleaded with him to be careful.

He nodded back, a silent vow that he would take every precaution. Then he was gone, gently forcing his way through the crowd. People seemed eager to let him jostle on by, ready to converge closer to the scene by pressing into the spot he’d just vacated. With great care not to hurt anyone, Clark extricated himself from the crowd, which was only swelling in size as more people stopped to gape at the massive fire.

Clark swiftly put his back to the crowd. Glancing carefully around, he found a deserted alleyway. With a quick scan using his powers, he ensured that the only witness to what he was about to do was a mother cat with a litter of six newborn kittens. Pocketing his glasses, he shot up into the sky, faster than any human eye could follow, then raced toward Lex Tower. He entered the building via the roof, tearing the solid, heavy metal door off its hinges when he found it to be locked. Using another burst of super speed, he entered the building.

His sensitive hearing brought him to each stranded person. The smoke was too oppressive to see much of anything. For that, Clark was almost glad. The same wall of black smoke would help shield him from prying eyes, would help cloak his identity. He went carefully through each floor, working with all speed to get people out of harm’s way, starting with the topmost floor and steadily working his way down. And yet, even in his haste, he was sure to go slowly enough to ensure that no one was left behind.

He carried each man, woman, and child he found through the blazing inferno raging around them, if they were unable to walk. Those that were, he merely aided, throwing an arm around their waist or shoulders and letting them lean on him. When he could, he took precious seconds to neutralize some of the choking smoke so that it was easier for the victims to breathe, or killing small patches of fire. He guided them all down to lower floors, beneath the fire, instructing them to get out of the building. On the floors below, he could hear teams of firefighters coming across the people he’d rescued from the upper floors. He kept one ear partly tuned to them, but no one seemed to know how they had gotten out of the blaze or who had helped them. He allowed himself a short-lived sigh of relief and plunged back into his work.

Time lost all meaning in that burning hell. Clark couldn’t be sure if he was there for minutes or hours, one day or many. All he knew was each beating heart as he searched through the building, working as methodically as he could. All he knew was his drive to keep going, to save as many people as he possibly could before the flames ravaged them or the smoke suffocated them.

In one hallway, he saw a distraught man bent over the body of his young son. Clark raced to the man’s side. Without thinking, Clark dropped to his knees beside the body, gently pushing the child’s father back. He checked the boy for signs of life, and found none. He began CPR, administering his breaths and chest compressions with the utmost care, afraid to do more harm than good. Long minutes passed, minutes that Clark knew were crucial not just to the child, but to everyone else stuck inside the inferno. But finally, the child sucked in a breath and coughed. Clark once more let out a sigh of relief. Without a word, he helped the father to his feet, scooped up the child, and helped them down to a lower floor, handing over the boy to his father once they were relatively safe. Then he was gone again, plunging back into the flames.

For only the briefest of seconds, Clark allowed himself to be worried. The man had seen his face. He’d blown his cover. Listening in, he heard the man reach a fireman. The firefighter took the boy from his father’s arms as the man related his tale.

“I’m telling you. There’s a guy in there, helping. I don’t know who. His face is all covered in soot and ash. You gotta send some guys up there to help.”

“We’re doing everything possible, sir,” the firefighter assured him, as he helped the father and son down the stairwell.

Clark leaned against the wall and sighed, raking his hand through his dirty hair. He let out a quavering sigh. So far, his secret was still intact. The man couldn’t identify him. As Clark passed a polished metal art hanging, he saw why. Every inch of his exposed skin was covered in smoke, streaked with soot, caked with ash. He could barely recognize himself. His hair, heavily soiled and slicked down from the weight, was a look he’d never worn in public. He smiled at the stranger who peered back at him from the reflective surface, then continued on in his mission.

It was three painstaking hours later when he finally was satisfied that everyone was out of the building. There were bodies, of course, of people he hadn’t gotten to in time. Each discovery had been like a knife in his heart. Still, hundreds of people had made it out of the fire alive, most, if not all, who would have died without a little bit of alien intervention. But Clark didn’t think of his role in that way. He was glad only that he had been able to make a difference.

He had also done what he could in stemming the fire as he worked at helping people get to safety, starting with dousing the flames in the stairwells to allow the victims to escape. He had been too afraid to put out the entire thing, for that would have truly raised eyebrows in Metropolis, and indeed, in all the country. But he had significantly snuffed out enough of the blaze to keep the building from collapsing, and to allow the firefighters access to the floors that had previously been denied to them.

Giving the building one final scan, he headed to the roof once more. He took a deep breath of fresh, clean, frigid air. It felt good, as though that one single breath purged all traces of smoke and burning flesh from his lungs. Then he was off, flying through the night, making with all speed for his apartment. Once there, he landed on his terrace, his arrival no more than a light whoosh of noise. For a moment he stood there, looking in through his windows, seeing Lois sitting at his table, her back to him, typing away at his laptop at a furious pace. Clark smiled to himself. Lois never ceased her work.

At normal, human speed, he went to the door that would take him inside. Lois was instantly on her feet as she heard him open the door, the knob rattling slightly as it turned. She went to hug him, but stopped short as she took in his appearance.

“Clark? Is that really you? Everything okay?” she asked, looking at him concernedly.

“Yeah,” Clark said, nodding. “It’s me. Everything’s fine. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up, and then I’ll fill you in.”

“Deal. You look like you’ve been through a warzone.”

“I feel like it.”

“I’ll make us some coffee.”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

Clark headed off to his bathroom, his shoulders slumped somewhat. Too many thoughts were running around his head. It felt good, stripping out of his filthy clothes, once he was in the sanctuary of his bathroom. He turned on the water as hot as he could, then stepped beneath the spray of the shower head. He scrubbed his skin and washed his hair at super speed, wanting to get back to Lois as soon as possible. He wound up scrubbing himself down four times before he was satisfied that the stench of the fire no longer clung to him like a second skin.

Lois was just finishing getting the coffeemaker set when Clark reemerged, dressed in clean, comfortable clothes. He came up behind her as she set out two mugs on the kitchen counter, and hugged her around her waist, drawing her body against his. His head leaned against her own.

“How bad was it?” Lois asked. “Wait, dumb question. Of course it was bad. You were there for a long time.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed, not letting go of her. “I couldn’t…I didn’t…not everyone got out alive.” His voice was soft and regretful. “I…failed.”

Lois turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. “Hey. Because of you, hundreds of people are alive. People who otherwise would have lost their lives tonight. It’s more than anyone has the right to have hoped for. You did a fantastic job.”

“Thanks. I just wish…”

“That you could have done more?” Lois finished for him.

Clark nodded. “You know me too well, I think.”

The coffeemaker finished filling the small pot beneath it, the strong aroma of the brew filling the entire apartment. It was a welcome smell for Clark, chasing away the memory of the horrific stench of the fire. He pulled out of Lois’ embrace and grabbed the pot of fresh coffee. He poured the two drinks, fixed them in their preferred ways, then brought them over to the couch. He sat down wearily and handed Lois her mug.

“How long did you stay?” he asked her, taking a sip from his cup.

“Almost as long as you did. I needed to see what happened. For our article, and because I was worried about you.”

Clark smiled. “You know you don’t have to worry, right? Nothing can hurt me. Except for Kryptonite. And S.T.A.R. Labs has that under lock and key.”

“I know, but still…”

“You know, I love that you worry about me,” Clark said, flashing her another small smile. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to get back. I did a couple more checks of the building before coming home. Just to make sure that it wasn’t going to collapse and that no one else was stuck. Did anyone say how the fire started?”

Lois shook her head. “Not yet. At least, nothing certain. But they suspect arson.”

Clark fell silent and fidgeted with his mug. “There’s one other thing,” he said after a moment, his voice sinking to a near whisper.

Lois saw the seriousness in his face. “Clark? What is it?”

“Someone…saw me.”

“Clark!”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, trying to stem Lois’ fear before it could explode. “They didn’t recognize me. They said as much to the firefighter. I mean, you saw me when I came in. I didn’t exactly look like myself.”

“That’s true,” she conceded. “But, God, Clark, I thought you were going to be careful!”

“I was. But I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I had to show myself. His kid stopped breathing, and he was too in shock to do anything. I had to do something.”

Lois sighed. “I understand.”

Clark sighed as well, leaning back into the couch cushions. “It kills me to have these powers and only be able to help when I’m sure not to be noticed. I want to be free to help. But if I do that…people will know that I’m…not like them.”

Lois was quiet a moment. But then, she began to speak as an idea formed in her mind. Clark could see the dawning of some inner light as it crept over her face.

“What if…what if you didn’t hide what you can do?”

“I can’t do that, Lois. You know that. Look at what happened with Trask. I wouldn’t be safe. You wouldn’t be safe. Or my parents. Or anyone else I’m close to.”

“But, what if people didn’t know it was you?”

“I don’t think I’m following. Why wouldn’t people know it was me?”

“Because,” Lois said, resting her head on his shoulder, “you’d be in disguise.”

“Disguise?” There was a note of amusement in Clark’s voice, if not belief that such a plan could possibly work.

But Lois was clearly excited. “Yeah! You could wear something different when you go off to help people.”

“I don’t know, Lois.”

“You know about Zorro, right?”

“Yeah,” Clark said hesitantly. “He wore a mask and cape and helped people out.”

“Right,” Lois said. “He was actually a nobleman, but he wore a disguise to keep his true identity a secret.”

“And you think that will work in my case, Lois?” Clark asked, frowning.

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, Zorro is completely fictional. I, however, am not.” He pressed a hand to his chest for emphasis.

“Just promise me that you’ll keep an open mind.”

“Okay…”

Lois sprang up from the couch and grabbed Clark’s phone, a triumphant smile on her face.

“Wait, who are you calling?”

Lois grinned at him. “Your mother.”

“My mom?”

Lois shrugged. “She’s a better seamstress than I am.” She started punching in the Kents’ phone number on the dial pad.

“Just one thing, Lois?”

“Hmm?”

“I am not wearing a mask.”

***

February 6, 1995

“So, what do you think?” Martha asked from her spot on the bed.

“I’m not sure yet. This whole idea seems really…silly…to me,” Clark answered, sounding uncomfortable and resigned.

He emerged from the bathroom, wearing the latest of his mother’s creations. Lois’ eyes grew wide. Her mouth opened slightly, but she did not speak. She stood, leaving her spot on the bed next to Clark’s mom.

“See?” Clark said, gesturing to his outfit. “I look ridiculous.”

“No,” Lois said breathlessly and shaking her head. “You look incredible.” She ran her finger over the well-defined bulge of his bicep.

Clark frowned, still not convinced. “Really?”

“Really,” Lois said, nodding.

The Spandex suit clung to Clark like a second skin. They had tried a number of other fabrics and colors, but none had seemed right. But this vibrant shade of blue somehow felt like the right choice. The added splashes of red distracted the eye, but that was part of the plan. The simple yellow belt at the top of the red briefs seemed to temper the abrupt change in color. And yet…

“I don’t know. I feel like something’s missing.” Lois ran her hand over Clark’s muscled chest. The diamond on her finger flashed brilliantly. Clark saw it in the reflection of the full length mirror he was looking in and smiled at her. “Some sort of…I don’t know. Emblem? Symbol? Something to announce to the world just who you are.”

“Do we really want to do that?” Clark asked, arching his eyebrow. “Not that this outfit is subtle. I’ve owned quieter Hawaiian shirts.” He turned, examining the heavy cape. “And this cape…kinda…pretentious, don’t you think?

“Of course we do,” Lois said addressing his first question, and stilling his movements with a quick squeeze of his body. “We need to give you an identity that people will associate with the suit. You know as well as I do that there are at least a dozen different names that the fire victims at Lex Tower are calling their mysterious savior. Demon, angel, ghost, Jesus Christ in His second coming. There are even reports of a real live wizard being there.” Lois scoffed at the absurdity of it all. “Whatever we put on your suit will tell people who you are. They won’t ever associate the man in blue with Clark Kent. Because it won’t be you. It will be…whoever your new identity is.”

Clark nodded. “I guess…you have a point.”

“I know I do. So, any ideas?”

Clark thought for a moment. “Actually, I do. Mom, do you think you could make one last change to the suit?”

“Sure, honey,” Martha said. “But what’d you have in mind?”

Clark grabbed a sheet of paper off the top of the dresser. With sure strokes, he sketched out a design. A design he’d worn as a child. A slightly exaggerated S within an almost diamond shape.

“This,” he said, holding it up for their inspection. “The El family crest.”

“Clark, honey, are you sure you’re okay with that symbol?” Martha asked hesitantly. “After all it once meant, I mean.”

“I’m sure,” Clark replied, nodding. “Look, I know what Trask tried to make this S a symbol of. If he’d had his way, this sigil would have stood for death and destruction. I know he used it as a way to try and dehumanize me. I’ve had to come to terms with that, and I have. He was a sick man. But I know now that this S is so much more than what Cameron once made it…or, tried to make it. This S, this crest of El, is a part of me. Not as Specimen S, but as Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara, last surviving child of a noble race of people. From this day on, I’m taking back what is rightfully mine, changing this S from Cameron’s warped vision of it. From now on, this S no longer brands a would-be super soldier in a twisted war in a psychopath’s mind. Now it stands as a beacon of hope, of help, of truth and justice.”

“I’m proud of you, son,” Jonathan said, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed before his chest. “Possibly more now than I’ve ever been.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Clark said, giving Jonathan a smile.

Not long afterward, Clark put on the modified suit. It now proudly boasted the sigil of Clark’s heritage on the chest in gold and red, and in contrasting gold threads on the back of the cape. As he gazed into the mirror image of himself, he couldn’t help but to feel a little strange. The suit itself felt odd and left him feeling uncomfortably exposed. But it was the crest on his chest that had his emotions surging, even though he himself had chosen to wear it.

For so long, the symbol had been a source of shame to him. It had been a brand, a marker, a sign that had indicated him as Trask’s property. It had been as bad as the number on a prisoner’s garb or the arm tattoos of those poor souls in Nazi Germany. But now, thanks to the messages Jor-El had left for him in the globe, Clark knew the proud heritage behind the sigil. For the first time in looking at the S on his body, Clark smiled and felt honored to display it across the whole of his broad chest.

“Well? What do you think?” he asked, turning to face his parents and fiancée.

“You look…super,” Lois said, smiling at him. “Wait! That’s it!”

“That’s what?” Clark asked, confused.

“Your new identity. Superman!”

***

February 14, 1995

Help! Somebody help!

The screams hit Clark’s ears clear as a bell. His head snapped up from its position, bent over his keyboard as he diligently worked on an article. Across from him, Lois was on the phone, turned partially away from him. She was speaking a mile a minute to whoever was on the other end. Whoever she was talking to must have hung up. She swore lightly under her breath and slammed the receiver down into its cradle.

Clark hesitated, listening to the cry for help. He hadn’t yet dared to make his public debut with his new identity. But as he listened, the single shout became many. Clark could hear the fear and panic in the myriad voices. He started to stand, listening intently. Lois saw the faraway look in his eyes as she came closer, and recognized immediately what was going on.

“Clark? What is it?” she asked, only loudly enough for him to hear.

“I’m not sure. But it’s big,” he replied, a pensive look on his face. “Wait…it’s a ship. It’s sinking,” he said, as he put the clues, held within the screams, together. “Must be in the harbor. I think it’s time for the world to meet Superman,” he whispered in her ear.

“Go,” Lois urged him. “I’ll meet you down there.”

He nodded sharply, then headed toward the stairwell. Ever since his decision to give Lois’ idea a try, he had fooled around with different ways to change into the blue, red, and yellow suit. He loosened his tie as he went, spinning into his alter ego once he hit the roof, and taking off like a rocket. He made a beeline toward the waterfront, his hearing tuned into the pleas for help, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the disabled ship.

At last, he had it. He increased his speed, tearing through the cloudless blue sky. A sonic boom rang out in the wake of his passing, startling the people on the streets below. In seconds, he was over the Metropolis Harbor, where a mid-sized cruise ship was stranded out in the waves, one end rapidly rising into the air as the opposite side sank beneath the icy water. Clark stopped short as soon as he was alongside the crippled vessel. He scanned the ship, assessing the situation as quickly as he could.

There had to be close to five hundred couples aboard the ship, out for a Valentine’s Day cruise around the harbor. Clark had wanted to take Lois on the same cruise, but had been unable to get tickets for it, since people booked a year or more in advance. In any case, it was far too many people to evacuate individually. The boat would be underwater before he would be able to rescue half of them, even with the help of his super speed to ferry them to shore. And, he knew, that was if the people aboard went with him willingly. He didn’t doubt that most of them would panic even further if he tried to scoop them up to fly them to safety.

Some of the people on deck spotted him, floating there, not a hundred feet away. They pointed, alerting their neighbors to the flying man. Some people screamed when they saw him, their fear stoked to new heights at the unearthly sight. “Angel of death,” he heard some crying, making the sign of the cross before themselves. Others pleaded for his help. “Godsend,” he heard them say, or “angel.” Clark floated a little closer and spoke.

“Everyone just stay calm,” he said, letting his voice take on a note of distinct leadership. He had to yell it out, just to be heard over the din onboard. “I’m here to help you. Everyone go inside and grab hold of something that’s fixed down. Stay away from the railings, no matter what.”

He scanned again, not bothering to see if people were following his instructions, going deeper with his vision, beneath the waves. There he saw the reason for the ship’s distress. A large hole had been torn in the hull, straight through the ship. It was taking on water, fast. Clark made the only decision he could. He took a deep breath, held it, and went into a dive, dropping like a stone from the heavens, beneath the water until he was below the ship. He swam to the dead center of the vessel, then started to lift. He only hoped that he would have the strength to accomplish his goal. He’d never attempted to lift something so large and heavy before.

Muscles straining only the slightest bit, he started to fly once more. Straight up he went, like an arrow loosed from a bowstring. The ship rose with him, until, at last, he reached the surface. He continued to rise, water pouring from the hole in the hull like a waterfall, obscuring his vision. But after a moment, it ceased. Floating five feet above the gentle waves, Clark started for the piers. He went as slowly as he could, mindful of the precious cargo made of human lives in the ship above his head. He didn’t want to jostle the boat or its occupants, nor did he want anyone who hadn’t listened to his instructions to get away from the railings to fall overboard.

It was a painstaking process, bringing the cruise ship to port. But Clark was satisfied with the result. He kept his hearing trained on the thousand or so lives above him. He wanted to make sure that no one was hurt, or went into shock, or got spooked and decided to jump from the ship. In the end, no one did. Still, by the time he made it the ten miles from where he’d found the ship back to the docks, word of the strange phenomenon had spread like wildfire. Just about every television station and newspaper in the city had film crews, reporters, and photographers on the scene, not to mention the small army of curious bystanders crowded in behind them.

Clark ignored them all as he worked. He knew Lois was there, of course. Even with his hearing focused on the occupants of the ship he was carrying, he had picked up on her heartbeat toward the front of the crowd. A quick glance revealed her standing there, taking notes, with Jimmy by her side, his trusty camera snapping an endless series of photographs. He smiled to himself at that, then focused on the next leg of his rescue. He let himself lose some altitude, sinking back into the ice cold water of the harbor. He heard the crowd gasp as his head went beneath the surface. With infinite care, he lowered the ship down, until it rested on the sandy ocean floor. Then he was out of the water, inspecting his handiwork.

The vessel sat extremely low in the water, but there was no longer any danger that the water level would reach the passengers. He let out a small, concealed sigh of relief, deciding it was better if he didn’t show much of his emotions to anyone, afraid he would do something to make himself look like Clark Kent. He flew up to the deck and landed lightly. His wet cape clung almost claustrophobically to him, dripping sea water behind him as he walked.

“What the hell are you?” the ship’s captain asked, voicing the question louder than anyone else, though Clark had heard a few others mumbling things to the same effect.

“I’m just someone who wants to help,” he said, giving the captain, crew, and passengers a friendly smile. “Is everyone all right? Does anyone need a doctor?” He searched the crowd, silently willing them to be truthful with him. When no one spoke up, he continued. “Captain, let’s get these good people ashore, shall we?”

It didn’t take Clark as long as he’d feared to help the people disembark from the ship. He kept a careful eye out, looking for obvious signs of injury, but saw none. The realization made him immensely happy. He’d made a difference, and this time, no one had died needlessly. Soon enough, the last people were off the ship and standing on shore, watching Clark. Teams of investigators came aboard the ship, and Clark spoke with them for a while, telling them about the damage to the ship’s hull. Then he finally allowed himself to float off the deck of the vessel and hovered before the gathered crowd.

This was the part he was dreading.

He wanted nothing more than to fly off, and get the reactions of the crowd second-hand from Lois. But if he was establishing himself as a new individual in the city, it was for the best if he gave the press some carefully construed information, so that they didn’t go digging for clues as to who he was. Clark braced himself as he moved before the crowd, awaiting the worst. Surely, they had to know that he wasn’t human. Surely, they had to be afraid of the powerful being before them. Surely, they would reject him.

To his lasting surprise, a cheer ripped through the crowd, mixed with enthusiastic applause.

There was no fear evident in the crowd. There was admiration, gratitude, acceptance. There was warmth and love.

Then the onslaught began.

Microphones were thrust in his direction. Cameramen and photographers redoubled their efforts, the bright flashes almost making a strobe-like effect. Dozens of questions flew from every mouth; reporters, cruise passengers, and onlookers alike. Clark motioned with his hands for them to all settle down, then floated closer, until at last, he was just high enough off the ground for everyone to be able to see him.

“I’ll answer your questions,” he assured them, in a voice loud enough for the microphones to pick up and for the unaided ears of the crowd to hear. “But I’ll have to take them one at a time, please.”

As he’d expected, that only spurred the reporters on, each of them shouting out questions, trying to be the first one to get a quote from him. But one voice cut above all the others, as he had known it would.

“Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Clark smiled a little, musing over the question. “I’m someone who is here to help, in whatever ways I can. Someone who wants to make a difference.”

“But, surely you have to have a name,” Lois pressed, before anyone else could venture a question. “Everyone does.”

“It doesn’t matter what name I was given at birth. What matters is what I stand for. Truth. Justice. Because of that, there have been those who’ve called me Superman. It seems to have stuck.” He shrugged.

“Superman! Archie Preston, Metropolis Star. What exactly are you? Some sort of robot?”

Clark chuckled. “No, Mr. Preston. I’m a flesh and blood man, like you. I just come from a distant planet, a place called Krypton.”

“Superman! Lois Lane again! With what we’ve seen here today, it begs the question. Were you the one who aided people in the Lex Tower fire, not long ago?”

Clark nodded. “Yes, I was. I happened to be in the neighborhood when the fire caught my attention. I knew I could help, so I did.”

“But, why then, didn’t you come forward?”

“That’s a good question, Miss Lane.” He paused for effect, making it appear as though he was looking for the right words. “I’m not here for recognition or praise. I’m content to be the man in the shadows, so to speak. Besides, it took a lot of time and effort to get those people out of there, the building secured, and the fire relatively under control. I didn’t have time to make my presence known or for the explanation such a disclosure would undoubtedly bring. Too many lives were at stake.”

“And after the fire?” another reporter broke in. Clark recognized Tonya Binx, from the New Troy Herald.

“After the fire, I had other matters to attend to,” he said, giving her a polite smile.

The questions kept flying, fast and furious. For a good half hour, he fielded them, patiently giving the people the answers they so desperately sought. It was easier than he’d anticipated, crafting his answers, giving the people the truth while protecting his true identity. In a way, he’d been doing it his entire life. This was simply on a grander scale. Eventually though, he ended the question and answer session, hearing yet another call for help. He was grateful for that call, being more than ready to get out of the public eye for a while.

“Excuse me,” he apologized to the crowd. “I have to go.”

“Superman! Wait!” called out Martin Reyes, from LNN. “Will we ever see you again?”

“Yes,” Clark nodded, his smile ever-present. “I expect that you will. Metropolis is my home now.”

“How can we contact you?” asked Isabella Stonard, from Wake Up Metropolis.

Clark gave her a half smile. “I’ll be around. Now excuse me, I really do need to go. There are others who need me.”

He took off at top speed, another sonic boom marking his passing. But he was all smiles. Despite his relative unease with being filmed and photographed, being questioned and having people clamoring for his attention, he was happy. It felt so good, so freeing, to finally be able to help people without having to worry about staying unseen. He could help more effectively this way.

And, he mused, not a single person had laughed at his costume. That in itself told him how willing the people of Metropolis were to not only accept, but embrace the alien in their midst. No one had made the connection that he resembled Clark Kent. That too, had surprised him. But it looked like Lois had been right, that no one would associate the man in blue with the dedicated reporter. He could not have asked for a more successful debut.

The next rescue he tended to was a four car pile-up just on the outskirts of the city. Clark had to literally tear the roof off one of the cars to reach the injured, bloodied occupants. They were too weak and too dazed to protest when he flew them to the hospital, leaving astonished police officers behind. He chuckled a little as he flew off, once the wrecked cars were cleared from the roadway and the passengers shuttled to the hospital.

Finally finished with his task, he flew back to the Planet. He landed lightly on the roof, then spun back into his work attire before heading for the bullpen. No one noticed as he jogged down the steps and then entered the newsroom. Lois met him at his desk. Around them, the place was in an uproar. Clark got the gist that everyone was talking about the phenomenon out in the harbor. He was free to exchange a few unobserved words with his fiancée.

“So?” Lois asked him, her voice a confidential whisper. “Where’d you go after the impromptu press conference?”

“Car wreck,” he replied in the same tone. “No fatalities, but it was a close call. How’s Perry taking the newest big news story?”

“He couldn’t be happier if Elvis Presley walked through that door, alive and well, and started to serenade him. He’s already demanding that the Planet get an exclusive with Superman.”

Clark smiled. “I think we can handle that.”

“He thinks you were with me the whole time, by the way.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the cover.”

“We’re going to be doing this a lot, huh? Me covering while you go out and do your thing?”

Clark shrugged. “Assuming I keep…doing my thing.”

“You are, aren’t you? I mean, you did like being able to help, right? I could see it in your eyes.”

Clark chuckled. “Lois, calm down. I’m just teasing you. Between you and me, I have it on very good authority that Superman is here to stay.”

***

July 28, 1995

Clark had never been so happy, or so nervous, in all of his life. It was a struggle for him to keep his feet on the ground. It seemed so unnatural, for him to be bound to the Earth when his heart was soaring among the stars. But there were too many eyes upon him. He adjusted his glasses for the fourth time in as many minutes, then ran his hand through his hair.

“Nervous, CK?” Jimmy asked in a low whisper.

“Only that I’ll mess up what I have to say,” Clark said, grinning at his best friend.

Jimmy laughed lightly. “You? Nah. You know, CK, I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Jimmy. That means a lot to me.”

“Until you came around, I’d never seen Lois so completely happy.”

Clark was about to reply when the organist started to play. The rich, deep tones of the instrument rolled though the church, the familiar tune of “Here Comes The Bride” echoing in that small, intimate stone building. Clark could not help it as his heels left the marble floor in front of the altar, but he managed to make it look like a natural movement, as though he was merely rocking forward onto his toes. Not that anyone was looking in his direction anymore. Everyone’s eyes, including his own, had been drawn to the back of the church, where Sam Lane was escorting Lois down the aisle.

Clark’s breath caught in his throat. Lois was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, but today, her radiance was brought to a level he did not have words for. He knew his mouth was hanging half open, and he quickly fixed it into the biggest smile of his life. Lois’ eyes swept the rows of family and friends once as she entered, then locked onto Clark’s. Her smile was as big as the one on Clark’s face.

It took a small eternity for Lois to reach Clark’s side. He eased his impatience and nervousness by listening to her heartbeat, which was racing in anticipation. Still, the sound soothed him, as it always had. It was, he thought, his drug of choice. Finally, she reached him and he took her hand.

“You look incredible,” he whispered to her.

“Thanks. You look pretty amazing yourself. You’ll be lucky if I don’t make you wear a tux all the time.” She winked at him and he chuckled softly.

They turned and faced the priest. The man raised his voice and solemnly began the marriage ceremony. Clark became more and more excited with every passing second. Each word that Father Baker said brought him closer and closer to being Lois’ husband. By the time they reached their vows, Clark was nearly bursting in anticipation.

The priest looked to Clark. Clark cleared his throat subtly, then began his vows.

“Lois, from the moment I first saw you, I have loved you. From the first words we exchanged, you held my heart with an unbreakable bond. You have given me a home and a life beyond anything I could have ever dreamed. You are my best friend and the woman I will love for the rest of my life. I am so in love with the person you are. Your passion, your humor, your determination. Today, I give myself completely to you as your husband. I will spend the rest of my days loving you, doing my utmost to make you happy, and making our future as perfect as I can.”

Clark took the ring from Jimmy and slipped it reverently on Lois’ finger, almost in a daze. The whole thing felt almost surreal, as though it couldn’t possibly be happening to him, the man who’d once been destined to live alone, isolated from all of society. The priest shifted his gaze to Lois as Clark fell silent and still.

“Clark, you’re my best friend. I never really knew what that meant until I met you. It made it so easy to fall in love with you. Since the day we met, you’ve been the gentlest, most kind-hearted man I’ve ever known. When I’m with you, I am complete. I’m home, in a way I’ve never known before. Today, I give you my heart, my love, my fidelity, and the life that we’ll make together. My life will be spent loving you, supporting you, and admiring you.”

Lois fell quiet as well. She took the ring from Lucy and slipped it onto Clark’s finger, with a touch as light and delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Clark could see a sheen of unshed, but happy, tears pooled in her deep brown eyes. He smiled gently at her, and she returned it with one of her own. A smile grew on Father Baker’s face as well.

“Lois, Clark, it is my honor, by the powers vested in me, to pronounce you husband and wife. Clark, you may now kiss your bride.”

Lois practically flung herself into Clark’s waiting arms. He kissed her deeply, his heart nearly bursting with love, knowing that he was now forever bound to the other half of his soul.

***

May 9, 2196

Tempus emerged in Centennial Park via the time window held cradled in his hand. He’d been so busy, what with jumping from time to time, universe to universe. He still wasn’t sure how Herb kept it all straight in his head. It was damn confusing, if you asked him. But, a man had to do what a man had to do. He was determined to see his experiments through to the end.

It had been a while since he had last had an opportunity to check in on this universe. The last time he’d been here, he’d found Jason Trask and handed him Kal-El’s identity on a silver platter. The man would have to have been a galactic screw-up to let Kent slip through his fingers.

Tempus smiled to himself. Oh, how he wished he could have been there to see it. Kal-El, that blasted last son of Krypton, exposed as Clark Kent. Trask, so ready, so eager, to break the man’s mind, turning him into a slave…or kill him in trying. And when that happened, this universe would become a world without Superman. Without Superman, Utopia would never be.

Tempus rounded the corner of the small, neatly kept brick building that housed a set of public restrooms. He frowned as he did so. He anticipated seeing graffiti on the bricks, but the building was clean as fresh fallen snow. The grass was mowed and free of debris. People strolled by idly, without worry or care.

“Oh no,” Tempus muttered under his breath. “This doesn’t bode well.”

How had that moron Trask managed to mess things up? Kal-El should have either been the destroyer of the world or dead. But this place…it was a mirror of the Utopia Tempus knew from his own universe. He quickened his pace, hastening to the spot where he would get his answer. He scowled as he walked, his face all but daring anyone to try and say a single pleasant word to him. No one took him up on the challenge, opting, instead, to give him a wide berth.

He all but ran to the all too familiar section of the park, hoping against hope not to see that damned statue. But there it was, proudly displayed for all to see. The statue that depicted Superman, in all his red and blue annoyance, with Lois Lane at his side, their adult children flanking them. Tempus stared in disbelief. It couldn’t be true. He’d worked so hard to ensure that his plan came to fruition. Then, as he looked again, something about the statue started to seem a little off. He squinted, then opened his eyes again. He paced back and forth before the immaculate marble, hoping a new angle would clue him in.

“Oh no,” he moaned aloud, as he finally pieced together just what was off about the tribute to the Man of Steel.

Instead of three Kent children, this statue boasted five.

Two older boys, a girl, then another boy and girl, obviously twins from their similar looks and exact same age. Tempus glanced at the polished, gleaming plaque below the immortalized family. It named the people in the statue. Kal-El, aka Clark Kent, aka Superman. Lois Lane, aka Lois Kent, aka Lois-El, once known as Ultra Woman. Michael Kent, aka Jon-El, aka Guardian. Hunter Kent, aka Jor-El, aka Sentinel. Rebecca Kent, aka Marla-El, aka Huntress. Ashley Kent, aka Luce-El, aka Shadow. Thomas Kent, aka Sam-El, aka Warrior.

Tempus gritted his teeth and kept reading. It seemed that in this universe, Lois and Clark had gotten together much sooner, and with far fewer problems than in his own world, since Lois hadn’t had Superman around to confuse her feelings toward Clark. They had married sooner as well, and that had led to the children being born earlier than their parallel counterparts. And that, in turn, had apparently led to the birth of the twins.

Tempus balled his fists, fighting down the overwhelming urge to scream. He could read between the lines of the plaque well enough. Everything he had done had been for nothing. Everything he’d done had backfired. Instead of driving Lois and Clark permanently apart, circumstances had drawn them together. Instead of death claiming one or both of them, they had survived and thrived. And instead of creating a super soldier, he had inadvertently created a Superman who was even more determined to bring about peace to the world than the Boy Scout of his own world.

The experiment, so carefully construed, was an utter and abject failure. Tempus thought about using his time window to go and find this universe’s Superman and a chunk or two of Kryptonite. But it was only a passing thought, and he did not act on it. If he’d learned anything from all the universes he’d toyed with thus far, it was that once Superman made an appearance, no matter for how brief a time, Utopia was an inevitability.

Tempus looked again at the statue with such anger it almost could have melted the stone. Then he sighed. It was ironic, he thought. All of his actions in this world had only worked to ensure Superman’s victory. God, how he despised irony sometimes.

No matter though. There were plenty of other universes left to experiment in.

THE END

Spark of Discovery

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: August 2012

Summary: Fireworks are beautiful, but they can be deadly, especially when they are tampered with...

Disclaimer: I neither own, nor make, anything. All Lois and Clark characters, plot points, and lines of dialogue belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. As always, I’m just playing with my toys again.

Author’s Note: This story was inspired by watching my town’s firework display while at a friend’s house. It fit very nicely with the Summer 2012 ficathon challenge issued by MrsMosley on the Lois and Clark FanFic Message Boards. The idea was to take one prompt and turn it into a fanfic. My prompt was “discovery,” though it also pulled some inspiration from “art of fireworks.”

Also, for the purposes of this story, Lois is not dating, nor has she ever dated, Lex Luthor.

***

“Beautiful, isn’t it, Asabi?” Lex Luthor asked, turning to his faithful man-servant. He put his back to the large window in his office that afforded him a stunning view of the bustling city of Metropolis.

“What is it?” the man asked, moving in closer, in order to examine the cylinder in the billionaire’s hand.

“One simple firework,” Lex replied, smiling at the brightly colored paper of the tube.

“A firework, sir?”

Lex nodded. “Yes.” He paused for a split second only before posing a question to the man. “Did you, know, Asabi, that the Chinese first used fireworks not to inflict harm or to celebrate, but to chase away evil spirits?”

Asabi shook his head. “I was unaware.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Lex said, nodding absently, still examining the item in his hand. “It was only after the discovery of gunpowder that the simple bamboo tubes were used to inflict damage against their enemies. In both cases, it was a weapon against those that would otherwise seek to harm them.”

“I see, sir.”

“It wasn’t until the Renaissance that fireworks became an art form,” Lex continued, as though Asabi had never spoken. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Asabi said, nodding, though his eyes still spoke of his mystification at the sudden history lesson.

“Fireworks. Like any weapon, they are so beautiful. Like this sword, for instance,” Lex said, sweeping his hand in the direction of his collection of swords, daggers, spears, and other weapons. “Precisely made. Every embellishment heightening the beauty and serving some purpose. And, like that sword, in the wrong hands, they can be so deadly.”

“Yes, they are a lot alike,” Asabi agreed, attempting to follow his boss’ train of thought.

“Beautiful. Deadly. And so varied,” Lex said, twisting the tube in his hands. “Different shapes. Different colors. Some that seem to linger and shimmer, others that disappear almost as soon as they explode.”

Asabi nodded, starting to figure out where Lex was going with his little speech. “I assume that is no ordinary firework.” He gestured to the tube in Lex’s hands.

Lex smiled, an evil light in his eyes. “Very good, Asabi. No, it’s not. It’s not ordinary at all.”

“You have a job for me?” Asabi asked knowingly.

Lex chuckled. “You know me far too well, Asabi. Yes. I want you to take this, and plant it at tonight’s firework display in Metropolis Park. Make sure it’s mixed in with those to be shot off during the grand finale.”

“What does it do?” Asabi asked, peering at the object a little more closely as Lex put it into his hands.

“Nothing. It’s a firework. It just happens to have the ability to kill Superman.”

“How’s that?” the man asked, a little wide-eyed.

“Just you wait and see,” Lex said as a slow, evil grin overtook his face. “Tonight, Asabi, I shall finally be free of my greatest rival.”

***

“Clark! Over here!” Lois called out, waving her arm above her head, apparently hoping her friend could spot her over the sea of picnicking families.

Clark waved back and carefully threaded his way through the mass of outspread blankets. He was juggling a tray of food and drinks in one hand, the other hand busy shading his eyes against the nearly horizontal shafts of light from the departing sun. But even if the sun truly could fully blind him, he’d still be able to find Lois anywhere, the unique sound of her heartbeat a Siren call to him. A minute later he sidestepped a squealing toddler who was trying to escape her father, then arrived at the blanket he and Lois were sharing.

It was the perfect summer evening. For the past two weekends, it had rained, delaying the Annual Metropolis 4th of July Carnival and Fireworks. But now it was finally sunny and dry. It wasn’t too hot and the nearly cloudless sky was the perfect canvas for the firework display that was coming. Lois and Clark had spent the entire day together at the carnival, riding the rides, browsing at the merchant stalls, and playing games of skill. Clark had won Lois a few new fish for her tank, and had offered to drop them off at her place before the fireworks could start. He had flown there, introduced the colorful fish to their new tank-mates, then flown back, stopping only to thwart one bumbling carjacker on the way.

“Hey,” Clark said, reaching the blanket and sitting down. “Here are your keys.”

“Where’d you park?”

“I never moved the car. I, uh, saw a cab when I was leaving the park. It was just letting off a couple of college-aged guys when I got there.” It was a true enough statement. He actually had seen such a taxi as he’d left the park, in search of a place to spin into the suit, away from prying eyes.

Lois’ eyes widened in awe. “Nice timing!” Then she looked at her watch. “Didn’t take you long at all.”

Clark smiled. “I didn’t hit any traffic. In any case, your scaly new friends are enjoying their new home. I dropped some food flakes in the tank too. I figured the poor little guys haven’t eaten all day.”

“Thanks, Clark. You’re the best. Rocco was starting to look a little...well...not well.”

Clark’s eyebrows crawled up towards his hairline. “Rocco?”

Lois nodded. “The little silver one with the red stripe.”

“You name your fish?”

Lois crossed her arms before her chest, but couldn’t hide her amusement. “What? Don’t tell me you never named your fish as a kid. But then again, you’re pretty traditional, so you probably just named them all Goldie. Am I right?”

“Nope,” Clark grinned. “Never kept any fish.”

“That’s just sad,” Lois commented. “Poor, deprived little Clark.”

“Deprived? I hardly think so,” Clark snorted in mock indignation. “I did have a dog named Bongo when I was really young. And a barn cat named Ambush.”

Lois giggled and arched an eyebrow. “Ambush?”

Clark laughed at the memory. “Yeah. That cat’s favorite activity was laying in wait for unsuspecting passersby and attacking them.”

“Bet he was a good mouser.”

“Oddly enough, no. That cat couldn’t have caught a dead mouse if you dropped it right in front of his face.” He shook his head. “Anyway, here. I got you a cream soda on my way back.”

“Thanks,” Lois said, taking the proffered cup. She took a sip, then set it down to one side. “So this fried dough is for both of us, right?” She flashed him a brilliant smile, the one Clark had absolutely no defenses against.

“Of course,” he said, nodding.

In truth, the portion size could have easily fed a family of four, the paper plate sagging beneath the weight of golden, steaming dough and sweet confectioner’s sugar. But more than that, Clark loved sharing his food with Lois. He loved sharing everything with her.

Clark reclined on the blanket, laying on his side and propping himself up on one elbow. He tore off a chunk of the sugary treat and chewed it almost thoughtfully. Across from him, Lois mirrored his movements. Clark loved moments like this, when Mad Dog Lane vanished, leaving behind plain old Lois, his best friend. It was times like this when he got to see her relaxed, even playful, side. It was a part of her he had gradually come to see more and more of. And the more of it he saw, the more it made Clark love her. That, in turn, only made his heart ache all the greater. Lois regarded him as a partner at work and as a friend, but nothing more.

But, he thought, maybe, just maybe they had reached a place where he could try to be so much more to her. After all, they had known each other for a long time now. September would be a year. The best year of Clark’s life, to be exact.

“Lois,” he said, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been doing some thinking lately. We’ve known each other a while now.”

Lois nodded. “Almost a year. I still can’t believe you’ve put up with me for this long.”

Clark nodded in return, ignoring Lois’ self-jab. “It’s been an amazing year, knowing you. When I first came to Metropolis, I had no idea what I would find waiting for me. I’m so thankful that what I found was you. And I was wondering...” He fumbled for words for a moment before continuing. “You’re my best friend, Lois. As I’ve gotten to know you, more and more, I’ve come to realize something. You are...exactly...that is...I have wanted...it’s been so hard to...uh...I think we...”

Lois laughed a little. “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re babbling. Only I’m allowed to do that.”

Clark laughed, and that seemed to relax him a little, seemed to bleed a little of the tension from him. “Sorry to intrude on sacred ground,” he teased. “What I meant to say was...I’d like to go out with you sometime.”

“We’re out now, Clark,” Lois said, though he could see the dawn of recognition in her eyes.

“I don’t mean as friends. I mean on a date. If you’re interested, of course.”

“Clark, you know you’re my best friend. And...I think...I’ve known for a while, that you were interested in me like that.”

“You knew?”

Lois gave him a playfully superior look. “Well, I’m not a three time Kerth winner because I’m blind as a bat to little details, Clark. Besides, I think most of Metropolis knows that you’re interested in me.”

Clark chuckled again. “Fair enough. So...do you think you might be interested?”

Lois sighed. “You know, I figured this was coming. I just wasn’t sure when. And I’ve given it a lot of thought. I mean, a lot of thought.”

“And?” Clark prompted, when Lois fell silent.

Lois struggled for a moment before speaking again. “I want to, Clark. I’m just...afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Well,” Lois said, shrugging, “of what might happen. What if things don’t go well for us? I can’t lose you, Clark. I can’t lose the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Clark gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve thought about that too.”

“You have?” Lois asked, perking up a little.

“Well, sure. You’re my best friend too, Lois. And if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s this. No matter what happens, if we were to try dating, you’ll never lose me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, without the bond of friendship we share.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He put all his conviction in that single word, trying to will Lois into knowing the truth of it.

“When you put it that way, who could resist? Yes, I think I would like to go out with you.”

Clark’s face lit up with a thousand watt smile. “Great! How about dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sounds wonderful. What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I thought I’d take you someplace amazing. Someplace not quite exotic, but rare in its own right. Someplace that will make all your friends green with jealousy.”

“Geez, you make it sound like you’re renting a plane to take us to Tuscany or something.”

“Close, but not quite.”

Lois’ eyebrow arched again. “Okay, now you’ve done it. I need to know. Where is this mysterious place?”

“Antonio’s,” Clark said, letting his eyes sparkle with satisfaction as Lois’ mouth gaped open.

“Antonio’s? Clark, you need to make reservations six months in advance for that place. It’s the most exclusive restaurant in the entire city.”

“I know,” Clark said, giving her a grin that told her he knew something she didn’t.

“Okay, what it is? What strings do you have that you’re going to pull?”

“I think I told you enough for now.”

“Uh uh. No way. Tell me.”

“Lois, can’t you just enjoy it without having to unravel a mystery?”

Lois didn’t hesitate to respond. “No. I’m a reporter. Unraveling mysteries is what I do.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, until he saw that look come into Lois’ eyes — the one that assured him that she would not rest until she unearthed the secret he was hiding.

“Okay, okay,” he finally said, putting his hands up in a gesture of pacification. “The executive chef? I went to college with him. We played ball together. He just moved to the city about two months ago and got in touch with me. He said he could get me in at any time, all I have to do is give him a call.”

Lois grinned at him, then tore off a section of the fried dough. They ate in silence for a while, just enjoying having the other there, and wondering what it would be like once they officially entered the realm of dating. Clark sipped from his soda, gazing at Lois in between casual glances around at the rest of the happy couples and families in the park, wondering if Lois’ acceptance of a date would turn out the way he’d always hoped. He was already in love with her. Could she ever feel the same way towards him? Would they ever be one of the happy couples — or, better yet, happy families — sitting in the park one day?

“Nice night,” he commented after a while. “After two cancellations, I half feared the city would just forget about it this year.”

“Nah. Metropolis would never skip out on this, even if they had to push it to October.”

Clark chuckled. “Well, in either case, I’m glad it didn’t get cancelled.”

“Me too,” Lois agreed. “Me too.”

***

A couple of short hours later, it was fully dark. The sky above was dotted with innumerable stars. The night air chilled around them. Lois shivered a little and rubbed her bare arms, her thin shirt doing nothing to keep her warm. Clark moved closer to her and drew her into his arms. He was a little uncertain of how forward he should be, but Lois didn’t protest. She only sighed lightly and rested against his chest. It set Clark’s heart to soaring to be so intimately positioned with the woman of his dreams.

At 9:30, music began to pump from the strategically placed speakers in the park. A mix of patriotic and pop songs blared over the gathered crowd as the fireworks began to light up the sky. Every heavy thump of the cannons meant another bright, shimmering firework. Every screech of the rockets as they soared into the heavens meant the birth of another design in the night. Children and adults alike gaped and gasped as one after another, firework after firework bloomed overhead, shimmering for an instant before dying into nothingness once more.

“Look! A smiley face!” Lois said, pointing, as she leaned even further into Clark’s embrace.

Clark grinned. “A butterfly!” he said, pointing at a different one just before it faded.

“Wow, they’re so beautiful this year,” Lois commented.

“They really are,” Clark agreed, though he hadn’t been in Metropolis the year before, and therefore had no frame of comparison.

“I’m really glad you’re here this year to enjoy them,” Lois said after a moment, as if she could read Clark’s thoughts.

“Me too, Lois. And thank you, for being the one to share them with me.”

For half an hour, the night sky erupted into thundering booms and artful fireworks. Dogs barked at every explosion. Children squealed with delight. The chosen music gave the affair an added depth of showmanship. Finally, the single — or at most, double — fireworks became many. It was time for the grand finale.

Clark enjoyed it as multiple rockets exploded into the night, first reds, then yellows, then blues, purples, and greens, then back to reds again to repeat the ever changing light show. Around him, people murmured to one another in obvious approval. He was about to bend his head to whisper in Lois’ ear when the cycle came back around to green.

That’s when everything went wrong.

A single rocket from that cluster faltered in the air as it raced upwards. As if it had a mind of its own, it fell back to Earth. And yet, it did not fall straight down into the small lake where the fireworks were being shot from an unmanned boat. Instead, it arced over the crowd, heading for the thick of the gathered families.

What had been shouts of delight and approval instantly turned to shrieks of panic and fear. Parents grabbed up their children and ran, holding them close to their chests. Couples broke their embraces and bolted for the park’s exit. Even the dogs seemed to sense the impending disaster. Leashes strained as the animals tried to flee, barking in alarm.

“Lois! Run!” Clark instructed her, standing up on the blanket. “I’ll be right behind you.”

For once, Lois listened to him without comment. She broke into a run, her body merging with the mass of terrified citizens. Satisfied, Clark turned, headed towards the public restrooms, ducked behind the building, and spun into his Superman suit. In the next instant, he was flying towards the renegade rocket. He caught the firework in his arms like a football, just before it could impact the ground where an elderly man was attempting to make his slow escape. The man muttered his thanks to Clark, too in shock to speak clearly. Clark merely nodded and flew back over the lake, intending to let the explosive go off above the water, or at the least, to drop it beneath the waves so that it was no longer a threat.

Clark was just above the middle of the lake when the firework went off. Green sparks spewed forth from the rocket, a heartbeat after Clark let go of the object. The scorching sparks sprayed his entire body and Clark let out a cry of pain. Weakness enveloped his body. He faltered in his flight, coughing. Then he dropped like a stone, his powers utterly abandoning him.

He realized as he tried to fight gravity what had happened.

The firework had been laced with Kryptonite.

He didn’t have much experience with the deadly rock, but the agony and weakness he was feeling was unmistakable. A hundred thousand pinpricks of the ground up and crushed stone clung to his skin and suit, burning him like fire and slowly killing him. He continued to freefall, then crashed into the once serene lake with a violent splash. He tried to swim for the closest bank, but he was too weak, too sick to make it. He managed to tread water for a couple of seconds, then sank, his dense molecular mass pulling him beneath the dark water swiftly as he blacked out.

Lois had turned back as soon as she thought herself to be out of harm’s way. She was the only one to do so. The rest of the crowd stampeded around her. Her eyes darted from face to face, looking for Clark. If he was hurt, she would never forgive herself, she knew. And so it was, in looking for Clark, that she alone witnessed Superman fall from the sky. Concerned for the hero, she ran back towards the lake. After all, he was as much her friend as Clark was.

“Superman?” she called out, when the man disappeared from view and did not resurface. “Superman?”

She still got no response. Concern gave way to sheer terror. Without thinking, she dove into the water. The colder than expected temperature was a shock to her body and she gasped against it. Then, steeling herself, she ducked beneath the surface, swimming to where she had last seen Superman. She broke the surface, took a deep breath, then dove again. Blindly, she reached out, hoping against hope to feel Superman’s body. She couldn’t see. It was too dark and the water was normally too murky anyway.

Her lungs aching, she swam up again. She allowed her head to poke above the water, sucked in another lungful of air, then continued her search. This time, as she neared the bottom, her fingertips brushed a floating piece of fabric. With a jolt, she realized it had to be his cape. Up she went again to get a fresh breath of air. Down again she went, searching for the Man of Steel. Her hand hit upon something soft — his hair. Downwards she felt, feeling his forehead, nose, chin, chest. Then sideways she groped, until at last she had her hands hooked under his armpits.

Bracing her feet against the sandy bottom of the lake, she pushed up, heading for the surface. It was a struggle, every inch of progress a battle she did not intend to lose. Superman was of no help; a dead weight in her arms. For a split second, Lois panicked. She was quickly running out of air. Superman was so heavy as he hung there, suspended in the water, unmoving. He’d been underwater for a couple of minutes now. And although she felt that she knew more about him than anyone else, she suddenly realized that what she did know was practically nothing. How long could he survive without oxygen? She knew from when he’d gone to face the Nightfall asteroid that he could hold his breath for about twenty minutes. But he wasn’t holding his breath now. His lungs were probably filled with water. Would his brain die as quickly as a human’s could, if she didn’t get him to the grassy bank right this instant?

As these bleak thoughts swirled in her head, she suddenly felt the night air in her hair again as she broke the surface. Gasping and choking as she finally took a clean breath of air, she opened her eyes. She was in the middle of the lake now. With a heaving effort, she dragged Superman’s head above the water. He did not take a breath, worrying Lois even further. She took only the briefest of moments to shift his body in her arms, then she started to swim for shore.

As before, it was a struggle to gain every inch forward. But Lois was undaunted. The hardest part was over, in her mind. She’d managed to rescue her friend from a watery grave at the bottom of the lake. She swam on, slowly but surely getting closer to the green springy grass of the park. Precious seconds slipped away to minutes as she swam, and all the while she was conscious of Superman’s limp, unresponsive form. But at last, she made it to her goal.

She pulled herself out of the cold water, then dragged Superman to shore. She laid him down on the ground, on his back, his boots still somewhat in the lake. A fast check for vital signs revealed nothing. Another bolt of terror sheared through Lois’ mind and body. She shook him, seeing if he would respond.

“Superman?” she called out. “Can you hear me?”

There was no indication that he was going to wake up. His chest did not fill with breath. His pulse did not flutter back into existence. Lois did the only thing she could do. She tilted his head back, pinched his nose shut, and placed her lips over his mouth. Carefully, easily, she began to administer CPR to the lifeless superhero. More time slipped by as she worked, though she was only aware of it in the most abstract of ways.

After a few rounds of breathing and chest compressions, Superman finally vomited up more water than Lois had thought possible. He choked and wheezed as his airway became clear, and as he greedily inhaled as much oxygen as he could. Sirens began to wail in the distance. Police and firefighters were rushing to the scene, finally able to enter the area now that the danger was truly over.

“Lois?” Clark asked weakly, his head feeling like the entire weight of the planet was resting on his temples.

“Superman? Are you okay?”

“No,” Clark said, shaking his head. “You have to get me out of here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll explain later. Hurry, please. I can’t let anyone see me this way.”

“Okay. Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Lois helped him to stand. But he immediately crumpled to the ground again. Once more, Lois hooked him under the armpits and helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her in order to stay upright. But this time, he had more success. He did not go to his knees. Together, they stuck to the line of trees, out of the sight of the police. Every step of the way, Clark relied on Lois to help him. And every step of the way, the almost invisible grains of Kryptonite ate at his flesh like acid and sapped what remaining strength he had.

Finally they reached the edge of the park. The crowd had been dispersed by the police. Lois could see what looked like Bill Henderson, his back to them, speaking with a couple of other cops, as they looked into the distance where he was pointing. Silently, Lois and Clark edged around and made it to Lois’ Jeep. Clark leaned against the vehicle, his every breath like flaming glass in his lungs. He didn’t think he’d inhaled any of the radioactive stone. He’d been fortunate enough to have been exhaling when the firework had gone off. He’d held his breath during his fall, mindful of the presence of the Kryptonite from the first stab of pain through his body. He knew he’d blacked out shortly after hitting the lake, and only hoped he’d managed to avoid swallowing any water tainted with the glowing green grains. He didn’t think he had. He probably would have been in greater pain, or dead.

“Hang on,” Lois said, fumbling with her keys and opening the door.

“No,” Clark said, shaking his head meekly. “Can’t sit in front. Too exposed.”

“Okay,” Lois said, biting her lower lip in anxiety.

She opened up the back door. Clark pushed himself off the rear quarter panel of the vehicle and crawled onto the bench seat. He curled up there, laying in a loose fetal position, his eyes closed, his breathing labored. He felt the vehicle rock as Lois slammed the door shut. A moment later, the driver’s door opened and closed. Clark heard the click of her seatbelt as she jammed the metal tab home.

“Are you okay back there?”

“For now. Please,” Clark begged. “Get me out of here.”

Lois started the engine, checked for traffic, and pulled the vehicle onto the street. She drove the first few blocks in silence. Then, it seemed, her curiosity came bubbling to the surface.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“You’re already doing it,” Clark answered.

“What happened?”

Clark gritted his teeth against a fresh wave of pain. “The rocket. It was laced.”

“Laced? With what?”

“Poison.”

“Poison? But I thought nothing could hurt you.”

“There is one thing,” Clark answered cagily. He knew that, to Lois, Kryptonite was no more than a mere myth, cooked up by Jason Trask.

He groaned in agony. He had to get the almost microscopic grains of Kryptonite off his body somehow. A shower might help, he knew. And he had to get out of the tainted suit. But how? He couldn’t ask Lois to drop him off at Clark Kent’s apartment. She was sure to connect the dots then.

Clark Kent.

Clark’s heart sank at the thought. Lois was so fixated on Superman that she hadn’t realized Clark was missing. He’d gotten his hopes so high earlier in the night, when Lois had agreed to go out on a date with him. He’d thought she’d finally given up on her fantasy of dating the larger than life hero. But now, it seemed, he’d been wrong.

“I hope Clark’s all right,” Lois murmured, more to herself than to her passenger. Then, to Superman, she spoke louder. “He was with me in the park. I didn’t see where he ran off to. I hope he doesn’t think I abandoned him there.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Clark replied.

“Is there someplace I can take you?” Lois asked.

Clark’s mind raced. What could he say?

Lois took his non-answer in stride. “My place, then.”

“Lois...I can’t.”

“Nonsense. I’m not leaving you alone until you’re well again. Now, what can I do, really? I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I’ve got to get out of this suit,” Clark said, before he could stop himself. He gritted his teeth against a fresh stab of pain. “A shower might help too, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not,” Lois said, shaking her head and speeding up to avoid getting stuck at a red light.

Before long, they were at her apartment building. The night was mercifully quiet. No one was meandering the streets, save for a couple walking their dog and a group of a dozen teenagers, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Lois waited until both sets of people had passed by the Jeep before getting out and opening Clark’s door. As before, he leaned on her for support.

“Not feeling any better?” Lois whispered to him.

“No. A little worse, if anything. I’m running out of time.”

“We’ll be upstairs before you know it,” she whispered back.

Clark couldn’t muster words for her. The effort to remain standing was too much. Every step up into the building was an exercise in torture of the cruelest kind. He felt truly accomplished when he made it to the door without collapsing, though he knew that if it hadn’t been for Lois, he never would have made it. Lois opened the door and helped him inside.

The elevator was empty when Lois pressed the button to call it, and for that, Clark was grateful. He was in bad shape, and getting worse by the minute. He wondered idly if he had burn marks on his skin where the Kryptonite was searing against his flesh. They rode up to Lois’ floor in silence, then made their way to her apartment, with Clark half stumbling even with Lois’ assistance.

Lois’ apartment had always been a comforting place for Clark. But this night, it felt like a veritable safe haven. He breathed a small sigh of relief as Lois closed the door behind them, setting the locks hastily. Then she helped him down to her bathroom. Clark slid out of her arms to sit on the closed toilet lid. Lois swiftly got a fresh towel for him and laid it on the countertop, alongside the sink.

“Here,” she said, patting the towel. “Sorry it’s so pink.”

“It’s fine.”

“Drop your suit outside the door. I can run it through the washing machine. Maybe I can help get some of...whatever is hurting you...off.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, giving her a grateful smile.

That brought up another problem. He had absolutely nothing else to wear once he emerged from the shower. But right now, he was more concerned with getting the Kryptonite off his aching body. He would have to deal with the problem of finding clothes later.

Lois left him alone, and Clark shut the door. As quickly as he could, he peeled off the still wet suit, boots, socks, even his briefs. It was embarrassing knowing that Lois was going to be handling his underwear, but he had no choice. Everything he had on was soaking wet, and he couldn’t take the chance that some grain of the deadly meteorite had worked through the suit onto his underwear.

Immediately, he felt a small tendril of relief work through his body as the material left his body. He felt even better after dropping the items outside the door and having an actual barrier between his body and the tiny grains of green stone. Then he turned on the shower and stepped beneath the spray, sinking to his hands and knees on the rubberized mat.

As the water coursed down his body in rivulets, it washed away the microscope pieces of Kryptonite. Slowly, he began to feel better. But he still did not move, did not attempt to get to his feet. He simply enjoyed the relief the water was affording him. But after a time, he tried standing, and found it within his realm of abilities. Taking up a washcloth, he soaped and scrubbed his body, over and over until he was certain that all traces of the poisonous rock were gone. He shampooed and rinsed his hair as well, making extra certain that nothing remained on his body, buried deep in his thick locks. And as the water swirled down the drain, it carried the toxic stone far, far away from him.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he was certain that he was fully decontaminated. He shut off the water and leaned against the wall for a moment. He still felt weak, that was true. But he no longer hurt. He no longer felt the sharp sting of the miniscule grains of stone. He attempted to levitate, and found the ability gone. Clark sighed. He didn’t have much experience with exposure to Kryptonite, but he knew his powers would return in time. It was just a matter of being patient and waiting it out. And with it being so late, there was no way for him to recharge in the sunlight, to give his body a jump-start on repairing itself. He would have to wait for morning. By then, his powers might or might not return on their own. And if they didn’t, he was certain that the sun would help.

But first, he had to deal with the fact that he had nothing at all to wear.

He dried off slowly, the fluffy pink bath towel soft against his skin. It was a nice change from the earlier agony he’d felt. He inhaled the lingering scent of the laundry detergent deeply. It had a distinct smell of lavender to it. He’d never paid attention to that before, always being too captivated by the scent of Lois’ perfume. He realized that even though he was getting to know her on a very close, very personal level as her friend, there was still a lot to learn about her.

There was still so much to discover about the woman he secretly loved.

With a sigh, he wrapped the towel around his waist. Then he did the bravest thing he’d done all night since he’d asked Lois out on a date. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

He padded lightly down the hallway, towards the living room. He could see Lois sitting on the couch, her back to him. He could see even from that angle that she’d changed into dry clothes and pulled her wet hair back into a clip. The phone was pressed to her head. He could hear the fingers of her free hand drumming restlessly on the arm of the couch.

“Come on, come on. Pick up, Clark. Pick up. Where are you?”

Clark stopped short as the worry in Lois’ voice registered in his brain. She sounded on the verge of tears. His answering machine must have picked up then, and Lois addressed it.

“Clark. It’s me. Where are you? Are you all right? Listen...call me when you get this message. I don’t care what time it is. Okay?”

Lois hung up the phone with a sigh.

“Lois?” Clark asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, Superman,” Lois said, a little startled. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, a bit,” Clark answered.

Lois still did not turn around. Her fingers still drummed on the couch. She was clearly agitated that Clark hadn’t answered his phone.

“I, uh, threw your suit in the wash,” Lois said.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I wish I had something to offer you in the meantime,” Lois said. “To wear, I mean. Is there anywhere I can go? Get you a fresh suit, perhaps?”

There was someplace she could go, but Clark couldn’t tell her that.

“No,” he said after a moment.

“Well, it shouldn’t be too much longer. I’ll put it in the dryer for you too.”

“Thanks.” Clark moved forward a step. “Lois? Are you all right? You sound...I don’t know. Upset.”

“No, I’m not all right,” she said, shaking her head. “Clark was with me in the park tonight. I lost track of him when that firework went berserk and everyone starting running in every direction. I didn’t see him at all when you and I were leaving the park. I thought for sure he’d be close by. He’s not the type of guy to run off and leave his friends in harm’s way. And now, I can’t get him on the phone. He hasn’t stopped by. I’m really worried about him.”

“I’m sure he’s okay,” Clark tried to reassure her.

But Lois shook her head again. “I’m not so sure. He would have contacted me by now if he was okay. He might be hurt. Will you be okay here for a while without me? I want to run over to his place really fast to check on him.”

“Lois, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Clark said, shifting uncomfortably.

If she went to his place, she still wouldn’t find him. And that would only upset her even further. He desperately didn’t want her upset or worrying. But, the question was, how could he accomplish that? If she was truly that distressed about Clark, there was nothing he, as Superman, could say or do to allay her fears. Not until his powers came back and he could leave her apartment, only to return as Clark. And even if they came back, right that moment, he still couldn’t leave until his suit was clean.

Lois finally turned to look at him. Her jaw hung open a moment as she took in the sight of him, only a fluffy, now damp, towel wrapped about him. Clark realized with a start that he’d neglected to slick down his hair after getting out of the shower and rumpling it as he gave it a quick towel-dry. He’d been too preoccupied with his own thoughts. He desperately hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“I, uh...wow,” Lois breathed. “You look...I never imagined...I mean...you look really...” She babbled for a moment, as if unable to string together more than two or three words coherently. “I mean, of course you are...but...and of course the suit comes off. But I never...wow.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark apologized, his face going crimson as he raked his hand through his hair. “I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” Lois quickly said. “It’s just that...you look...”

Clark raised his eyebrows. “I think we’ve established that,” he teased, unable to help himself. He gave her a lopsided smile, hoping to clear the air of some of the awkwardness that was threatening to settle like a thick blanket.

“...a lot like Clark,” Lois finished, blinking as the realization hit. She looked as though the words had been a complete shock to her, as though she hadn’t planned on saying that. “But that can’t be. Unless...”

“Unless?” Clark asked, gulping hard and trying to hide it.

He crossed his arms before his bare chest, in an effort to cover up some of his exposed skin. Touching his hair had been a mistake, he belatedly realized. That had been a very un-Superman-like thing to do. In fact, it was all too familiar a habit for Clark Kent. Teasing her had been an even bigger mistake. Though Superman joked with Lois, it was Clark who good-naturedly teased her.

“Answer me something,” Lois said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And answer me truthfully.”

Clark moved around the couch and sat in one of the armchairs. He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Okay. You have my word.”

“Why won’t you let me go to Clark?”

“I...uh..” Clark stammered, racking his brain for a plausible excuse. He wasn’t sure if she’d put the pieces together, and he wasn’t in a rush to give her that final piece if he could avoid doing so.

“Is it because you know that I won’t find him there?”

Clark nodded meekly, unable to find words. He barely felt himself make the movement. It was as if he was a puppet and some unseen person was pulling his strings, making him do things he wasn’t even conscious of.

“And why is that?”

“Intuition?” he tried, in a feeble attempt to keep his secret intact and knowing that he was failing miserably.

“Or because maybe you are Clark?”

Clark sighed. She’d put the pieces together, as he’d feared. He hated that she’d done so, and hated the fact that his own exhaustion and slip-ups had led to such a discovery. Not because he didn’t want her to know; he’d been toying for a while with telling her the whole truth about himself. But because he had so desperately wanted to be the one to tell her. Somehow, he imagined that if Lois ever discovered his secret, that it would be a slap in the face to her, the fact that he hadn’t told her himself. He knew his assessment had been completely accurate as he saw the scowl unfold on her face, like a dark storm cloud on a bright summer’s day.

“Actually,” he said at length, “it’s the other way around.”

“What?” Lois’ hands were on her hips, like a stern and disappointed mother about to dole out some unfathomable punishment.

“Superman isn’t Clark, Lois. Clark is Superman.”

“Same difference,” Lois said, her eyes flashing hotly.

“No, it’s not,” Clark said, pouring all of his sincerity into those words. “Clark is who I am. Who I really am. Superman is just...the physical manifestation of what I can do. An avatar of my powers, if you will. He’s a way for me to help people, without alerting the world to the fact that Clark Kent isn’t a human being.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Lois said, crossing her arms. “Clark is a person, just like me.”

“Yes and no, Lois. I am a person. But...I’m not exactly human. I’m not from this planet, remember?”

“With all the flying, how could I forget?” Lois mumbled.

Clark nodded, conceding the point. But the usual, gleeful, look of triumph Lois usually bore after scoring a point in an argument did not appear. An icy cold vice of fear squeezed Clark’s heart as it beat frantically against his ribcage.

“So...I, uh...how much trouble am I in?” Clark asked in a quiet, trembling voice, unable to meet Lois’ gaze.

Instead, he steepled his fingers and studied them as though they had suddenly become fascinating. He was, however, painfully aware of Lois’ eyes, boring a hole through his skin straight into his soul, and turning his hopes and dreams for their future together to ashes. He knew there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t force Lois to accept him, accept the things he’d done and the lies he’d told. He couldn’t force her anger to abate any more quickly than it naturally would. All he could do was to answer whatever questions she might have; fully, honestly, completely.

He was totally exposed, both literally and figuratively. All disguises had been stripped away. There was no pair of glasses to hide behind. No cape to conceal him. He only hoped she would be merciful on him, though he knew he had no right to any clemency she might choose to favor him with.

“A lot,” Lois finally said after a long pause. She frowned at him. “Ugh! I can’t do this right now.” She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Do what?” Clark asked, chancing a brief glance up at her in an attempt to puzzle out what she might mean, based on the expression she wore.

“This,” Lois said, gesturing vaguely at him. “I don’t even know who I’m taking to right now.”

Clark frowned. “It’s me, Lois.”

“Me? Me who? Clark? Or Superman?”

“Me. Clark Kent, the guy you’ve been working with for almost a year now. The same guy you’ve hung out with on our days off. The one who watched the fireworks with you tonight. The one who is happy just to settle in for a Lethal Weapon marathon with you. The one who brings you your morning cup of coffee. The one who has become your friend. And the one who just happens to sometimes appear in public in a blue spandex suit and a red cape.” He attempted a wobbly smile and failed, his guts twisting in fear of what Lois would do and say.

“I can’t...I can’t picture you as Clark right now. Not knowing that your blue suit is in my washing machine and you’re sitting there, completely naked in front of me.”

“Not completely,” Clark quipped. “I am wearing this stylish towel.”

Lois didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile. She didn’t look amused in any way. Instead, she stood, grabbed her keys from the table by the door, and reached for the doorknob.

“Where are you going?” Clark asked, sudden dread filling his stomach.

“Out.”

“Out?” he echoed. “Lois...Lois, please. Please, don’t leave me. Not like this. Not with all this unresolved tension. Please, give me a chance to explain.” He knew he was begging her, but he was unashamed of that fact. Had he had the strength and the courage, he would have gotten on his knees before her to plead for her forgiveness.

“Oh relax, Clark...Superman...whoever you are. I’m just going down to my car.”

Before Clark could venture another question, she was out the door where he could not follow, lest anyone see him, and possibly call the police on the naked man running around in just a towel. But less than five minutes later, she was back. Clark looked up at the door as he heard the knob turn. Lois stepped inside, looking no less angry than she had before she’d gone to her Jeep. She flung a navy blue gym bag at Clark.

“Here,” she said, as the bag arced through the air and landed in Clark’s arms.

“Thanks.”

He’d forgotten all about the bag. Since he and Lois never knew when or where a stakeout might occur, they both kept a gym bag in her trunk, filled with a couple of changes of clothes. Clark stood, wincing a little at his residual soreness, then took the bag down to the bathroom. Once inside, he quickly pulled out a clean, dry pair of briefs, socks, white basketball shorts and a green shirt. He shook his head. Not green. He’d had his fill of green for the night. He reached back in and found a faded maroon t-shirt instead. He nodded. That was much better. At the bottom of the bag was a pair of sneakers, but he left them for the time being. The only thing he didn’t have was an extra pair of his glasses. He’d never thought he’d need them in his bag. Still, it was a relief to be in normal clothes again. Maybe seeing him in familiar attire would help Lois to realize that he really was just Clark, regardless of his super abilities.

“Lois?” Clark called as he reemerged from the bathroom.

“Yes?”

Clark walked into the living room and found his seat again. “I wanted to say thank you, again, for bringing my bag up.”

Lois nodded, but that was the only acknowledgement she gave him. An uncomfortable silence fell, and Clark began to fidget. Ranting Lois he could handle. Screaming Lois he could soothe. A Lois who threw things at his head he did not fear. But a silent Lois? That chilled him down to his very bones.

“Lois,” he tried after a moment. He swallowed and took a deep breath. He spread his hands in a placating manner. “I know you must be furious with me right now.”

“Furious is an understatement,” Lois snapped, cutting him off. “How could you do this to me? I thought we were partners! I thought we were best friends! Or was that a lie too? How could you betray my trust like that?”

“We are, Lois. Partners and best friends. Nothing about that was ever a lie. I’ve never done anything that was contrary to my nature, no matter which suit I was wearing. Nothing about how I’ve acted around you was ever a ruse. I genuinely care about you, Lois. I always have. I always will. And I never meant to betray you, by making you believe I was two separate people.” He sighed. “The only outright lie has been making you believe that Superman was real.”

“Of course he’s real,” Lois argued.

“No, he’s not! Superman doesn’t hold a job. He doesn’t go to movies. He doesn’t own a home or rent an apartment. He doesn’t have bills to pay. He doesn’t have a birth certificate or a social security number, or agonize over tax forms each year. Like the great and powerful Oz, he’s just an illusion. The only real person is the man behind the curtain...Clark Kent, adopted son of Jonathan and Martha Kent, the last surviving inhabitant of a now extinct planet. Can’t you understand that?” He’d begun adamantly but by the end, his voice had once more become pleading as he sought her understanding.

Lois snorted her disgust. “Even assuming that’s true...so...what then? You were afraid I’d run off and print the real story of Clark Kent’s extracurricular activities?” Her voice turned from bitter to hurt. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

Clark felt a small ember of anger and hurt rise in him. He normally had seemingly endless amounts of patience, but after everything that had happened in just a few short hours, he was tired, achy, and slightly irritable that Lois wasn’t giving him the chance to explain things.

“And I thought you knew me better than that! God, Lois, do you really think that I thought you’d turn me into your Pulitzer Prize?” Both of his hands flew up to his head and raked through his now dry hair.

Lois’ eyes narrowed again, unfazed by his outburst and accusation. “Then why? Why lie to me? Answer me that.” It was more a dare than an actual question.

Clark sighed and leaned back in his chair a little, his anger cooling as suddenly as it had come to a boil. “Because I’m a coward,” he said softly, unable to look in her direction, the admission lancing his heart.

Lois’ eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t lose her hard tone. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Clark said evenly, nodding to himself a little, as if to bolster his own confidence. “I haven’t said anything to you...haven’t told you...because I was afraid. Afraid of what might happen if anyone found out. You and everyone I love would become targets. Just look how many times we’ve been in danger because of a perceived connection to Superman. Imagine if the criminal element found out for certain that Clark Kent is the Man of Steel. And...I was afraid of...this. How you would react when I finally told you.”

“So you thought it better that I figure it out for myself, is that it? Don’t you see how insulting that is?”

“What? No! Lois, I never wanted you to have to figure it out on your own. I mean, I always knew it was a possibility, because you’re the smartest person I know. But, I wanted to be the one to tell you. For the past month, I’ve been trying to figure out what words to say, and when to say it. I’ve wrestled with how to make you realize that I never meant to hurt you. But every time I’ve tried, the words haven’t sounded right to me. Or we’ve been sucked into thwarting some psychopath’s evil plot to destroy Metropolis and/or the world.”

Lois hesitated for a moment, apparently thinking over what he’d said. “You were really going to tell me?”

“Yes.” He nodded for emphasis.

“But you only decided to this past month.”

“Not exactly,” Clark said, squirming a little. “I think part of me has wanted you to know all along. But you have to realize, Lois, that I had to wait as long as I did, even when I knew for certain that you wouldn’t turn me into a page one story. My parents and I have protected this secret for nearly thirty years. Even without the element of danger, even if Superman didn’t exist, it never would have been easy for me to tell you the truth. The whole truth. That I’m not from Earth. That I have these strange powers. Because it makes people look at me so differently, when I’ve only ever wanted to fit in and be a normal guy.”

“That’s absurd,” Lois said, her expression softening only microscopically. “I wouldn’t have treated you differently.”

“Wouldn’t you have?” Clark asked, his voice soft, having lost all of his anger. Now, only sadness reigned there.

“No,” she asserted, with a shake of her head.

Clark smiled sadly. “That’s not true. Think about our past year together, Lois. Think about how we’ve been as Lois and Clark. Then think about how we’ve been as Lois and Superman. Please.”

Lois fell silent for a long while. She had a faraway look in her eyes, and Clark hoped that she was doing as he’d asked, and was mentally reviewing their time together in both of his personalities. She didn’t look at Clark at all. She didn’t seem to acknowledge that he was even alive during that time. Clark chewed his lower lip in worry as he forced himself not to stare at her.

After a while, Lois sighed heavily. “Not mud brown, like Clark’s,” she whispered. “Clark is the before. Superman is the after. The way, way after.” She groaned, clearly embarrassed by the things she’d once said. “I guess you might be right,” she conceded after a moment.

“I am?” Clark asked, a little surprised at her willingness to admit when she’d made a mistake.

“Yeah. I guess I haven’t treated you the same when you’ve been in a business suit instead of the flashy blue one. And, God, am I ever embarrassed at some of the things that I’ve said to you. I’m sorry.”

Clark smiled at her. He wanted to rush to the couch and hug her, but he remained seated, though it was an effort to do so. There would be time enough for that later. Perhaps when he was sure that he wasn’t in danger of losing her completely from his life.

“There’s no reason to be sorry, Lois. You weren’t supposed to know that I’m both men. Did they hurt, the things you said? Yeah. But they also reassured me that my disguise was working. If you could work side by side with me and never make the connection, then I was safe, because you’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. If you didn’t know, what chance did the rest of the world have?”

The washing machine beeped loudly, announcing that it was finished with its cycle. Lois automatically rose and emptied the machine. She transferred everything to the dryer, shut the door, and pressed the button to start it. A moment later, the rhythmic sound of the rotating drum could be heard.

“Your stuff will be ready in a little while,” Lois said, sounding unsure of what else to say, now that the worst of her fury seemed to be gone. “Then I guess you’ll be flying off.”

Clark shook his head. “Not until I’m sure that we’re okay,” he said. “I couldn’t stand it if I left and you were still upset. And I won’t leave until I’ve answered all of your questions. I want to be totally upfront with you from now on, Lois. No more lies. No more half truths. No more hiding.” He hesitated a moment. “And besides, I can’t fly anywhere right now.”

“Because of the suit.”

“No. Because of what happened tonight.”

“What did happen tonight?” Lois asked suddenly, as though she’d forgotten the trauma of seeing Superman so close to death. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but you don’t look so good, even now. Not to mention those burns on your skin that I saw earlier. What caused that? And when you fell in the lake and didn’t resurface...” She shook her head and let her voice trail off.

Clark sighed. “Remember Jason Trask?”

“Sure, but he’s dead.”

Clark nodded. “Yeah, but remember how he thought that there was a stone out there, one that could kill Superman?”

It was Lois’ turn to nod. “Of course...you decided to name it Kryptonite even though it was my story.”

“It’s real, Lois.”

“Come again?”

“It’s real. And it does exactly what Trask thought it would. It can kill me, Lois. It takes away my powers. It saps my life. It makes me vulnerable to everything, just like a normal person. The rocket tonight was laced with it. When the firework exploded, I got pelted with Kryptonite dust. I blacked out when I was in the water. You’re the only reason why I’m not a permanent fixture at the bottom of the lake right now. You saved my life, Lois. I’ll never forget that.”

“I...I had no idea. I thought Trask was just some nutcase.”

Clark grinned wryly. “He was. He just happened to be right about that one particular thing.”

“And you knew about this? When we went to Smallville, I mean.”

Clark shook his head. “No. I didn’t know until that first night, when you and Mom went off together so you could see where you were sleeping. I went with Dad out to the shed. He told me what was really going on at Wayne’s property and showed me the chuck of Kryptonite they’d hidden from Trask and his men. That was the first time I was ever in contact with it. It took almost a day for my powers to come back, even after I stopped feeling sick.”

“So, wait. Wait a minute,” Lois said, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to ward off a headache. “Did Trask...know...about you?”

“Well, no,” Clark said, his shoulders slumping a bit. “At least, not at first. But when he was about to kill my folks, I had no choice. I had to reveal myself, or they would have burned in the fire he’d set. I’m just glad that my powers came back in time for me to save them. Of course, that prompted Trask to try his luck in killing me.”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t have your powers when you fought with him? When he had a gun pointed at you, his finger on the trigger, half a second from shooting you in the back?”

“I was just as vulnerable as the next guy, and a little weak and woozy from being exposed to the Kryptonite again.”

“Oh, God,” Lois moaned, burying her head in her hands. “I’ve always known that I almost lost you that day. But to have you confirm it...”

“I’m sorry, Lois. I never meant to upset you.”

Clark stood from his seat. For a moment he stood there, looking lost. Then he crossed to Lois. Kneeling before her, he took one of her hands gently. He looked into her eyes, hoping she would see how much he meant the things he was saying.

“Lois? Lois, please, look at me.”

“I’m okay, I think. And you? Are you okay now? I mean, aside from your powers not...uh...”

“Not working?” Clark supplied. “I’ll be fine. I’m a little tired and achy, but I’m fine now, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do all that much,” Lois mumbled.

“Sure you did. You pulled me out of the lake and revived me when I wasn’t breathing. You helped me get out of the park without being seen. You’re washing the dust off my suit. And you loaned me your shower to get the rest of the Kryptonite off my body. You saved my life tonight, several times over. I can’t thank you enough.”

Lois nodded but did not speak. Clark remained on his knees before her. As before, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her silence. Either she was processing everything he’d said, or she was getting ready to unleash all the wrath of Mad Dog Lane upon him. He tried not to wince as he waited for her to speak.

“Oh, get up already,” Lois said, finally breaking the silence.

Clark did as he was told. He chanced sitting next to her on the couch. He wanted to touch her — to put a hand on her shoulder or to hold her to him — but he firmly squashed the desire. He knew he was still walking on a knife’s edge with her. And he was unwilling to do anything that might push him off that precarious perch.

“Get comfortable,” Lois said, a little of her earlier annoyance tainting the edges of her words. “You still have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know. And I want to.”

“Good. Now, start from the beginning.”

Again, Clark did as he was bid. He settled into the couch cushions and told Lois his story. He started from how his parents had seen what they had thought was a meteor, crashing in their friend’s field. He told her how Jonathan and Martha had found his ship there, with him inside, no more than two months old, and how the orphaned boy had become the answer to their prayers. He told her of his childhood, and of how hard it had been developing frightening powers. He told her of how he’d come to the decision to never tell a soul about who and what he really was, and how his father had always warned him that scientists would want to lock him in a lab and dissect him like a frog if word got out.

He went into detail of how he’d concocted the idea of becoming Superman, thankful that he could finally express his sincerest gratitude to her for putting the idea into his mind in the first place. He told her of the struggle it had been in the beginning, to keep his two identities apart. He told her of how uncomfortable he’d been, appearing in public in such a skin-tight outfit, and of how he’d slowly come to enjoy being Superman, to the point where the suit now felt strangely good to him. With each new discovery, Lois’ eyes grew wider and wider.

And as he spoke, Clark found himself discovering things as well. Specifically, he was finding out just how easy it was to tell Lois all of these things. Things he’d never before told a soul. Things that even his parents didn’t know — things he’d hidden from them, not wishing to burden them with more of his problems. And not only was it easy to tell Lois all of his secrets, but it felt so right, so natural. It took Clark off-guard for a moment as the realization hit. All this time he’d been fretting over how to tell her about himself. Now that he was, it was as natural as breathing, as freeing as flying, as empowering as his strength. He could scarcely believe that it had taken him so long to finally do it.

When he was through, Lois sat quietly, absorbing all he’d said. Then, slowly, she reached over and took his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, casting her eyes down at the couch cushions. “I guess I didn’t realize that it wasn’t exactly a picnic for you either, all this time, hiding who you are.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Clark said, shrugging, trying to allay the sadness he detected in her demeanor. “I always had my folks to talk to. And I always had you too. Even if I couldn’t tell you everything, you have no idea how often you said just the right thing to me. Something that made me feel less alone, or less of the alien that I am, or stopped me from hanging up my cape for good. And I want you to know, Lois, how glad I am that you finally know.”

Lois nodded. “I’m glad I know too,” she offered, giving him a smile. “Looking back, it makes so much sense. Why you’d space out in the middle of a conversation, only to snap back to reality, make a lame excuse, run off, then come back with a Superman exclusive. And it certainly explains how I could have been equally attracted to two men. Because both are the same person.”

“You’re attracted to me? The uh, real, Clark me?” Clark asked, a bit of a twinkle back in his eyes.

Lois grinned. “I did agree to go out with you, didn’t I?”

Clark chuckled, for what felt like the first time in a long, long time. “Good point.”

“So...I guess...the next question is...what exactly happened tonight? Why did the rocket go rogue? How?”

“Well, I think we know the why. Someone was targeting me. That’s the only logical explanation for why the firework was laced with Kryptonite. I don’t know if that was a rocket that was tampered with or if it was specially designed and somehow slipped into the ones that were supposed to be shot off tonight. As for the how, I think we’ll need to know more about the rocket first. Maybe we can talk to Henderson in the morning, see if the police can recover the pieces from the lakebed. I won’t be able to examine it with you, but it may give us some clues so we can track down whoever did this.”

“You think someone put the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, in jeopardy just to get at you?”

Clark shrugged. “Well, why not? Remember what happened just after Superman made his debut? Suddenly we had people jumping off buildings across town from each other. We had bombs planted in buildings, then remotely detonated only after I entered the building. I was being tested then, I’m sure of it. But tonight was no test. Someone wanted to kill me. I’d stake my life and reputation on that.”

“Any ideas who might want that? Trask is dead, after all. He’s the only one deluded enough to think of you as a threat, that I know of. And, he’s the only one who knew about the Kryptonite.”

Clark nodded slowly. “I have an idea. But you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Crazier than the fact that you moonlight in tights?” Lois arched a skeptical eyebrow.

Clark chuckled. “Maybe. I’ll leave that determination up to you.” A second later, his smile faded and he turned serious.

“Clark? What is it?”

“I have...reason to believe...that it could be Luthor’s doing.”

“Lex?”

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

To his infinite relief, Lois only looked at him with interest. There was no mocking disbelief in her features. Nothing to suggest that she thought him insane.

“Why?” she finally asked.

Clark shifted a little in his seat and shrugged, as though that would help him find the right words. “It’s more of a gut feeling than anything,” he admitted. “But I’ve gotten the sense that he’s been behind some of the near-disasters we’ve seen since Superman arrived.”

“Like?”

Again, it was a genuine question. There was no animosity, no disbelief, nothing to indicate that she was merely humoring him.

“Probably a dozen things,” Clark said. “The space program debacle, for starters. The tests that I mentioned before. The smart kids. The heat wave that Superman was blamed for. Think about it. Every time, Lex has been lurking the shadows. His companies have been there, involved in some way. Lex Labs made the smart serum. Lex’s company was responsible for the nuclear reactor. Lex was ready and willing to send up a space station of his own. LexCorp has always, always been there.”

“Lex employs thousands of people in the city, though. It doesn’t mean he is personally responsible for anything.”

“That’s true, but in all of those cases, who had the most to gain? Objectively speaking, it’s Lex. Let’s take the sabotaged space program — and we do objectively know that sabotage was involved with that bomb that got planted. Luthor was perfectly poised to swoop in and be the savior of it. Then he’d make millions — billions — off any medical discoveries made aboard his own station. Who saved the space program? Superman, killing Luthor’s dreams of looking like a hero while making a ton of money in the process. So Luthor started to hate him. He probably decided to get rid of him. But to do that, he needed to know Superman’s limits. Hence the tests. He learned how fast he is, how invulnerable. How do you get rid of someone you can’t kill?”

“You drive them away,” Lois said, fitting the pieces together.

“Exactly.”

“You think the leak at the nuclear reactor site was...intentional?”

Clark drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, I do. I didn’t see it at the time, but looking back, I’m almost sure of it.”

“But...he must have known that would expose millions of people to harmful nuclear waste. Not to mention blistering heat. Thirty-nine people died of heat stroke during that fiasco.”

Clark nodded. “Knowing and caring are two very different things, Lois. My guess is that he wasn’t willing to let a little thing like millions of lives sway him from his ultimate goal of getting rid of Superman.”

“And what about tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Clark admitted. “Somehow, someone, Luthor or otherwise, discovered that Kryptonite is real. And somehow they got a hold of some, probably from the chunk that Wayne sent out to a lab to be analyzed, but went missing. My guess is that no price tag would be too high for Luthor to pay for something that could potentially kill Superman.”

“Okay, I have to ask. Do you always talk like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like Superman is some sort of other person?”

Clark smiled and laughed lightly. “Yeah. Drives Mom nuts. Even more so when I start talking completely in the third person, like Clark and Superman are both separate from who I am.”

Lois laughed too and shook her head before turning back to the subject at hand. “Do you have any proof of this? The stuff about Lex?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. But believe me, nothing would please me more than to take him down when I do find it.”

It was just after two in the morning when Lois and Clark finally left her apartment. At that hour, no one was likely to be on the streets to potentially see Clark without his glasses. And he most definitely had to go as Clark. His powers hadn’t returned, and it just wouldn’t do at all to have Superman riding around in Lois Lane’s Jeep Grand Cherokee. Too many unwanted questions could arise from that. Instead, Clark carefully examined his suit once it was dry, noting with relief that he didn’t feel any of the sickening effects of the Kryptonite as he ran his hands over the whole of the fabric. He folded up the suit and cape, and placed them, along with his boots, in the oversized gym bag. Then he and Lois left the apartment.

They rode in silence for the duration of the short drive. Clark would have given anything to know what Lois was thinking. If only he had the power to read minds! He sighed. Not that a power like that would do him any good at the moment. He still needed to recharge in the sunlight before any of his powers would come back, he suspected.

It didn’t take long before they were in front of Clark’s building, the normally brief drive feeling somehow shorter than ever. He sighed to himself, then turned to face his partner, his best friend, the only woman he’d ever loved.

“Lois?” he ventured, after a moment. “Are we...okay?”

She didn’t immediately answer. She seemed to be gathering herself before replying. “Yeah, we’re okay. I’m sorry I got so angry earlier.”

“You had every right to be.”

“Maybe. But, I’m more relieved now than anything else. Thanks for trusting me with this secret.”

Clark smiled at her. “Thanks for being trustworthy. And for forgiving me, not to mention for saving my life.”

Lois nodded. “So, I’ll pick you up at nine? Then we can get to work figuring out who tried to kill you, and put the lives of so many on the line.”

“Nine sounds good,” Clark said, nodding. “I’ll buy breakfast for us on the way in to the Planet.”

“You were doing that anyway,” she said, and Clark was relieved to hear the familiar, teasing tone in her voice.

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.”

“I guess.” Clark swallowed hard, needing to ask his next question, and dreading the answer. “Lois?”

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, realize that this might not be the best time to bring this up, in light of everything that happened tonight. But, I, uh...should I still make that reservation for us? At Antonio’s?”

Lois frowned for a moment. “No,” she finally said, shaking her head slightly.

Clark’s heart deflated right there in his chest, like a balloon that had been punctured with a needle. The wind was squeezed from his lungs as his chest suddenly became tight.

“That’s understandable,” he said, trying his hardest not to let his utter heartbreak show. “I shouldn’t have asked. I should have known better.”

“No,” Lois said again. “What I mean is, tomorrow isn’t a good day for that. Let’s hold off until we nail whoever messed with the fireworks. Something tells me we won’t have time to enjoy ourselves on a date if we’re in the middle of a huge investigation like this one probably will turn out to be.”

Clark felt his whole body brighten, and the vice around his ribs vanished. “You mean you still want to go out with me? Even after all I put you through?”

Lois nodded. “I was hurt earlier, that’s true. But I’m also smart enough to realize when something good is staring me in the face. At least, I hope I’m smart enough. You’re a good guy, Clark. You’re my best friend. And recently, I’ve started to wonder if there’s more to us than just our friendship. I have too many regrets in my life as it is. I don’t want missing out on an opportunity to find happiness be one of them. And if I passed up exploring a possible relationship with you, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. I’m willing to give us a chance, if you are.”

“No regrets,” Clark breathed.

“No regrets,” Lois echoed again. “Now get going. You look exhausted.”

He had to agree with Lois. He was exhausted. Since Lois had cornered him with her discovery that Superman and Clark Kent were the same person, he’d been running on adrenaline and what little energy he’d had left after the Kryptonite had savaged his body. He needed sleep, and needed it badly.

“All right,” he said, giving her a nod and a smile. “See you at nine.”

“Goodnight, Clark,” Lois said softly.

“Goodnight, Lois.”

“You will be okay by yourself, right? After everything that happened with the Kryptonite?” she suddenly asked. It was clear that the thought hadn’t occurred to her before now.

Clark wished he could say no. He wished he had a legitimate reason to ask Lois to stay with him. But he was through lying to her. That was a thing of the past. He wasn’t the same man he’d been twelve hours before — the one who gave her half truths, partial lies, and flimsy excuses. From this night forward, he’d made a silent vow in his heart to never lie to her ever again, to never be that man again.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “The biggest threat is gone. I just need some sleep and sunlight, that’s all.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Lois,” he repeated, grabbing the door handle. “And thanks again for saving my life tonight.”

“What are best friends for?” she replied, giving him a bright smile.

Clark nodded, then leaned over and lightly kissed Lois on the cheek. It was purely on impulse that he did it, and he was happy to see that she did not pull away, or get angry, or slap him. Then he opened the door and grabbed his gym bag from the back seat. In the next moment, he turned from the car and headed to his door.

All around him, the night was as silent as it got in a big city. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the wail of an ambulance siren. Dogs barked and two cats screeched as they fought. Car tires squealed as someone took a turn way too quickly, probably only a block or two away. He hoped that it wasn’t Lois. And from Mr. Kinsey’s apartment, he could hear light jazz music playing through the open window, two stories above, in the building directly adjacent to Clark’s apartment. Clark smiled to himself, and carefully kept his back to the window. Mr. Kinsey was a self-admitted “horrible” insomniac. In seconds, Clark was inside his apartment, shutting the night out behind him as he closed the door. For the first time since leaving Lois’ apartment, he felt safe. There were no prying eyes here. No one to see him without his glasses. No one to question his pallor and the weary way he held his body.

He brought his bag over to the closet. Zipping it open, he carefully extracted his Superman suit and all its pieces. He hung them in his secret compartment with the others, happy to have it out of sight for the time being. He was finished being Superman for the day. Then he brought his bag to his bedroom, replacing the items he was wearing with new ones, so that the bag was once again full. He stripped out of his clothes and readied himself for bed.

He slipped into a thin pair of sleep shorts, quickly brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed. The cool sheets felt good on his tired, still somewhat sore, body. He closed his eyes, beckoning sleep, but it did not come right away. For a short time, his mind kept him awake, thoughts of Lois swirling through his brain.

She now knew everything.

It was inevitable. He had known it, almost from the time he’d first been partnered with her. She was either going to find out on her own one day, or he was going to be forced into a situation where he would have to tell her. Or they would wind up in a relationship and he would tell her because she would need to know. Clark had always imagined that it would be awkward for her to be privy to such knowledge. He’d always imagined that he would still harbor some last shard of fear. But oddly enough, he felt not one iota of worry. He didn’t feel awkward, having her know about his alter ego. He felt freed, like a man whose shackles had been removed after close to thirty long years of captivity. He felt lighter. In fact, he was certain he would have been floating all night long, if only his powers had returned. He felt embarrassed too, that he’d withheld the truth from her for so long.

“What’s done is done,” he muttered to himself. “Can’t change the past.”

That was his last thought before sleep overtook him. He slept deeply and dreamlessly. It was as if his ordeal had sapped even his brain’s energy to the point where it could not conjure any dreams, good or bad. He was thankful for that, once he awoke. He’d needed the break from any and all types of reality.

He found himself in a warm patch of sunlight, which filtered in through the half-closed shades of his bedroom windows. He groaned a little, throwing a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sudden assault of light. For a moment he just lay there in that same position, unmoving. Then he rolled over, off his back, and looked at his bedside clock. The clock he suddenly realized he’d forgotten to set.

“Oh no!”

It was a minute to nine. He’d overslept. Lois would be arriving any time now. And she would be expecting him to be dressed, ready, and bright-eyed. Instead, he was wearing nothing but his sleep shorts, was far from ready for the day, and was still somewhat groggy, his head still fogged with the remnants of his sleep. He pushed himself out of bed, rubbing the heels of his palms into his bleary eyes.

A second later his hearing picked up the sound of a heartbeat.

Clark’s own heart soared at the sound. Never mind the fact that his powers had returned. Lois was there! All remaining fragments of sleep melted away. He sprang away to the door, leapt the steps with a single small jump, unbolted the lock, and threw it open to find Lois poised there with her fist raised to knock.

“Morning!” he offered brightly.

“Morning,” Lois said, stepping into his apartment. “How’d you know it was me?” She paused for a moment. “Stupid question. X-ray vision, right?”

Clark shook his head, shutting the door as his did so. “Nope. I heard your heartbeat.”

“And you knew it was me, just based on that?” she asked, surprised, and noting his state of utter undress. He wasn’t even wearing his glasses.

He nodded. “I don’t want this to sound creepy, but I’d know your heartbeat anywhere, Lois. You could put everyone on this planet together in one place and I’d be able to find you in that crowd, completely blind, just by the sound of your heart.”

Lois smiled at him. “That’s sweet. And now it makes so much more sense to me how you’re always looking at the elevators when I come into the bullpen. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you try to hide it by burying yourself in your work.”

“Guilty as charged,” Clark said, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, is this how it’s going to be now, all the time?”

“What? Casually talking about my powers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world?” he asked.

Lois gestured to his mostly naked form. “I meant your lack of clothing in my presence.”

“Sorry about that. Just give me a few seconds to get ready, then we can head out. I’m afraid I overslept.”

“I’m guessing you needed it,” Lois said, nodding and motioning for him to go get dressed. “You look a lot better this morning.”

“I feel better,” Clark admitted, dashing off to his bedroom, while keeping up the conversation. “I’m a hundred percent recovered.” He shaved, brushed his teeth, dressed, and reemerged, even finding time to make his bed. “Everything’s right again. All my powers are back and seem to be functioning just as effectively as they always have.”

“Good,” Lois said, smiling in approval. Her eyes raked over his light gray suit and white shirt, though she rolled her eyes at the American flag print tie. “Because something tells me we’re going to need all the help we can get in putting whoever was behind yesterday’s attack behind bars where they belong. You know,” she said, gently grabbing his tie as he stood before her, “for a superhero, you have surprisingly super-horrendous taste in ties.”

“What? You don’t like it?”

Once more, Lois rolled her eyes. “How is it that you can be so clueless sometimes?” she wondered aloud, shaking her head.

“Maybe my wardrobe needs a woman’s touch,” he said playfully.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Kent. I agreed to go out on a date with you. Not to be your personal shopper or your wife or anything.” By her tone, Clark knew she was only teasing him.

“Not yet,” he teased back, shrugging, as if to suggest that he knew he’d win her over.

“Maybe not ever,” she said, grinning playfully and patting his cheek. “But first things first.”

“Our date.”

“No,” she said, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Finding your would-be assassin, so that we can enjoy our first date in peace.”

Clark nodded, still smiling. “Agreed.”

“I thought so. And on that note, let’s get going. I spoke to Henderson before I came over. A dive team is going to be recovering whatever they can from the rocket in about an hour or so. He said he’ll call when they’re done so that I can take a look.”

“Great,” Clark said, grabbing his glasses and setting them on his face. He grabbed his keys and wallet and shoved them into his pocket. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Lois retorted, smiling and patting him on the shoulder. “But I love to hear you say it.”

Clark chuckled and shook his head. He guided Lois back through his apartment to the door, locking it behind them as they exited. He was so thrilled to be trading such playful, light-hearted banter with her. The night before, when Lois had figured out his secret and been so angry, he’d been terrified that he’d lost her for good. He’d imagined an irreparable, jagged hole torn from the once invulnerable fabric of their friendship. Even after they’d talked things out, and though the night had ended on a positive enough note, Clark had feared that Lois would treat him differently, now that she knew his secret. But to see her acting so normal around him, his last, tiny knot of fear uncoiled and disappeared.

He was still Clark Kent in her eyes, the only person he’d ever wanted to be to her.

***

Clark drummed his pencil on his desk, staring sightlessly at the monitor of his computer. He leaned forward in his desk chair, resting his elbows on the top of his desk, unable to focus on anything. He sighed and shifted his gaze to Lois’ desk, directly across from him. Lois’ empty desk. Without her there, it looked dark and cold, like some foreboding dungeon sitting across the way, not twenty feet from where he sat. He always felt that way when Lois was out of the office. He missed her warmth, her smile, the always open invitation to perch on the edge of her desk, sharing information with her, or working through a confusing batch of research, or reading over her copy, or sharing a brief respite while munching on a bagel and sipping a cup of coffee.

“Donut?”

“What?”

“I said ‘donut,’ CK,” Jimmy said, sidling up to his desk with a box of donuts in his hand. “Man, you are one distracted guy today.”

“A little, yeah,” Clark admitted, eying the treats in the box. He reached in to grab one.

“Uh, not the cinnamon,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “Unless you want Perry to kill you and mount your head on the wall as a warning to the rest of the bullpen.”

Clark obediently pulled his hand away from the donut in question and instead settled for a glazed one. He spied a double chocolate one and fished it out as well, setting it aside for Lois.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” he said, raising his donut like he would a glass of wine in a toast.

“No problem, CK. And, uh, if you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, you know I’m here, right?”

Clark nodded. “Thanks. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all. Lois and I are working on what happened last night at the park.”

“Yeah, Courtney and I were there. That was some crazy stuff. Any leads yet?”

“Not yet.”

Jimmy nodded knowingly. “So all this distraction is just about that, then? Nothing to do with you and Lois finally going out on a date?”

“Wait, how did you...?”

Jimmy leaned a hip against the front of Clark’s desk. “Oh come on, CK. It’s so obvious. You’ve been pining after her since the day Perry hired you, maybe longer. Everyone knows that. And to my highly trained photographer’s eye, you two are looking pretty close all of a sudden. So when’d you finally ask her? Last night?”

Clark nodded and laughed. “You’re good.” He took a bite of his donut.

“Before or after?”

“What?” Clark swallowed the piece of donut he was chewing and took another bite.

“Before or after the fireworks?”

Clark gave Jimmy a guarded look. “Why?”

Jimmy squirmed a little under Clark’s gaze. “It’s important.”

The look did not leave Clark’s face. “Before.” He took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. “Why is it so important?”

Jimmy grinned impishly even as his face reddened with embarrassment. “I had a bet going with Tom in sports. He owes me fifty dollars now.”

Clark choked a little on his coffee as he took another sip. “Jimmy!”

“What? It’s become something of a hobby with a few of us.” Jimmy tried to stifle his smile and failed. “Sorry, CK. I know, it was lousy of us.” He tried to look contrite, but failed at that as well.

Clark shook his head. “You guys need new hobbies.”

Jimmy nodded and patted Clark’s shoulder. “Sure thing, CK. Hey, you want in on the action? There’s a bet going around on how long it’s going to take before Stephanie in travel decks Ralph right in the face.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Jimmy...”

Jimmy’s hands went up in a gesture of surrender. “All right, all right. But seriously, man, congrats on you and Lois. I think you guys are cute together.”

“Thanks.”

Jimmy moved away, a grin stretched from ear to ear, carrying the box of donuts toward Perry’s office. Clark watched for a moment, then went back to staring at his computer screen. The cursor on screen blinked back at him from the blank document page, mocking him. Clark groaned and threw his head back to study the ceiling instead. He wondered how much longer it would be before Lois came back, for what felt like the eightieth time that hour.

A moment later, his question was answered. Down in the lobby, he could hear the steady beating of her heart. His own heart lightened in response. Four minutes later, she entered the newsroom, striding purposefully down the ramp. Straight to Clark’s desk she went, and plopped down a steaming mug of coffee on his desk. He looked up at her questioningly. She didn’t say a word, so Clark dutifully went to her desk, retrieved her chair, and wheeled it up to his desk for her. She gave him a smile and sat, then sipped from a second cup of coffee. She waved toward the one on Clark’s desk.

“Whole milk, three sugars,” she said. “Just how you like it.”

Clark gave her a smile. “Thanks. What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, I was just doing some thinking while I was waiting for Henderson. Did you know that you’ve bought every cup of coffee we’ve had in the last three months?”

“I wasn’t really keeping track of that, Lois. Besides, I don’t mind. I like being able to do things for you. Like this.” He handed her the donut he’d taken for her. “Freshly stolen from Jimmy.”

Lois nodded. “You’ve always been so sweet,” she mused, “even when I wasn’t so sweet to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark said, taking a sip from his cup. “It’s perfect.” Then, to switch topics off rehashing the past, “So, what did Henderson have to say?”

Lois shrugged. “They couldn’t find much on the lakebed. But they did find two interesting things.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What were they?”

“A mini motor, like the type you’d find on a remote controlled helicopter, and some sort of electronic box.”

Clark’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Electronic box? What kind of electronic box?”

Lois shook her head. “They don’t know yet what it is. But they’ve passed it along to S.T.A.R. Labs. The theory is that it may be some sort of timer.”

“Or a computer,” Clark suggested.

“Could be.”

“Or it could have housed the...you know.” Clark lowered his voice to a whisper, gesturing vaguely.

“It’s possible.”

“Did you get to see them? The box and the motor?”

Lois shook her head again. “No, the police had already passed them on. I called Dr. Klein though. He said it will be a couple of days at the earliest before they can analyze everything. He’s going to send over some pictures when he can.”

Clark sighed. “A couple of days,” he echoed.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get whoever it was,” she said, rubbing his arm affectionately.

“I hope so, Lois. I’m genuinely worried about this.”

“Well, of course you are. Someone tried to...you know.”

Clark shook his head. “It’s not even about me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “It’s about all those people. The longer it takes to put this person behind bars, the longer people will be in danger.”

Lois nodded and sighed. “I know.” She took another sip of her drink. “Did you come up with anything?”

“No,” Clark admitted, feeling himself growing frustrated again. “I’ve got a few messages in with the event coordinators. I’m waiting to hear back. And I guess...I’m still a little distracted.”

“About last night?”

Clark nodded. “Some parts more than others. An attempt on my life I can handle.”

“But you’re worried about me? I thought we settled this, Clark.”

“That’s not exactly it,” he said, smiling. “It’s just...did you know that Jimmy had a bet going with some of the others here at work?”

“A bet?” Lois arched one eyebrow. “What kind of bet?”

“Oh, you know. Just how long it would take before I’d ask you out.” He chuckled.

Lois laughed too. Clark could see it dancing in her eyes as well. “You’re kidding.”

“Oh no. Jimmy’s quite happy it happened last night before the fireworks. Seems he won fifty bucks in the bet.”

“Good. Now he can pay me back for last month when he borrowed my car and got a parking ticket,” Lois said, crossing her arms and leaning back into her chair a bit.

That elicited another chuckle from Clark. “Come on, let’s see what we can find out, partner.”

***

Two days later, Clark entered the newsroom. He glanced at his watch. Only a minute late. That wasn’t bad, considering the wildfire he’d been helping to fight that morning. It had taken hours of his most intense effort and concentration, but he and the California firefighters had managed to finally get the blaze extinguished. Still, five college-aged campers had perished in the inferno, though Clark had managed to evacuate ten other camping families before they too could succumb to the flames. As always, the lives lost weighed heavily on his mind, and he found himself cursing the fact that even his speed and flight hadn’t been enough. The lives saved did little to cheer him, though he knew he should be proud of what he’d accomplished. Thousands more would have lost their lives and homes as well, had the fire still been burning.

“Hey. Rough morning?” Lois asked, as he reached her desk.

“Brutal.”

“I saw that Superman did a great job on that wildfire out west.” She was so casual the way she spoke of Superman as a separate entity from Clark.

“Yeah. But people still died. Five kids barely Jimmy’s age.”

“Hey,” Lois said, grabbing his elbow and drawing him close. “You did the best you could. No one blames you for not being everywhere at once.” Her tone was confidential, barely a whisper in his ear.

“I know, Lois,” he said with a sigh. “It just...sometimes it takes a while for the horror to sort of...wear off.”

“Well, maybe this will cheer you up. I just got off the phone with S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Clark perked up a little at that, thankful for the distraction. “What’d they say?”

“Well, the electronic box? It was a small computer. A very sophisticated one at that. It’s damaged beyond repair, so they can’t pull any data from it, but it looks like it was probably wired to the propeller, to give it directions.”

“So the rogue rocket wasn’t a rogue at all.”

“That’s what it looks like,” Lois said, tapping her pencil on the yellow legal pad before her.

“Sabotage.”

“Just like you suspected from the start.”

Clark didn’t say anything toward that comment. “Any idea who manufactured the computer?” he asked instead.

“No, but it did have a chip design that Dr. Klein said he hadn’t seen before. At least, not in person. He said it resembled a drawing he’d seen in a magazine a couple of months back. Guess what company was working on it?”

“Lex Labs?”

Lois nodded. “Which isn’t to say that your theory on who’s behind it is necessarily true,” she reminded him. “Even with as much sense as your side of things makes.”

“I know,” Clark said, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “What else did Dr. Klein have to say?”

“He’s sending over some copies of the photographs he took of the recovered pieces, now that the lab’s had some time to process the items.”

“That’s good.”

“Well, he offered to show us in person too, but I thought under the circumstances...I didn’t want to risk having you hurt again.” Lois cupped his cheek gently with one hand for a moment, leaving Clark’s flesh ablaze where contact was made.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” Clark said sincerely.

“Lois!” Jimmy called, his voice cutting through the constant noise of the newsroom. He waved a manila envelope. “This just came for you.”

“Speak of the devil,” Lois said, giving Clark a smile. “That must be them.” She took the proffered envelope. “Thanks, Jimmy.”

“No problem.”

She tore open the sealed paper to find a plain black folder inside. Inside the folder was a small assortment of black and white photographs. Dr. Klein had, on a few of them, marked arrows in red marker, labeling the components in distracted, spidery script.

“Here, let me see those,” Clark said, moving toward his desk.

Lois handed him the photos as he sat in his chair. With a quick glance around, Clark lowered his glasses ever so slightly. He zoomed in on the photos, searching every square inch for a clue. He found nothing.

“Not even a serial number to speak of,” he said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Whoever did this didn’t want anyone to follow their trail back.”

“Filed off?” Lois asked.

“No,” Clark said, shaking his head. “Nothing looks scratched in that way. It’s broken and charred, but there’s no scrape marks like a file might leave.”

“So it was specially made?”

“Probably. Or a prototype.”

“Wouldn’t that have some indicator on it? In case it was stolen?”

Clark shook his head again. “Possibly. I’m not sure. It would make sense though.” He frowned, then went back to searching, lowering his glasses again and going back over the images again in case he’d missed something. “Wait a second. It looks like there’s a number here, under this charred section here. I missed it the first time around.”

“What’s the number?”

“Looks like a one.”

“Okay, so it’s the first one off the assembly line, you think?”

“Possibly.” He paused for a moment. “You know, I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well, Jack.”

“What about him?” Lois asked as she glanced around the bullpen.

“Think about it. He’s a street kid. He used to deal with items that weren’t exactly legally obtained. He might know someone who knows something about the, uh, stone.”

“Assuming it was stolen.”

“It has to be, Lois. As far as I know, the piece that Wayne gave my dad for safe keeping was completely destroyed. But the piece that got sent off to the lab for testing was never recovered. My guess is that it got into the wrong hands and wound up on the black market.”

“Okay,” Lois said, nodding her agreement. “Even if that’s the case, what are you going to tell Jack?”

Clark bit his lower lip in thought. “I haven’t quite worked out the wording yet. And I’m only thinking of it as a last resort. Let’s try to track down the chip’s owner first.”

“Didn’t you have a call in with the committee who oversaw the firework display?”

“I did, but they claim to be just as mystified as we are about the whole situation. Although, guess whose payroll they’re on.”

“Wild guess. A certain billionaire who happens to live in town?”

“Bingo,” Clark said, raising his eyebrows.

Lois frowned. “Two connections to Lex,” she muttered.

Clark nodded but did not comment.

“And Lex has never been the one to sponsor the fireworks before,” Lois said, apparently thinking aloud. “It’s usually done through the city. But with the budget cuts this year, the city couldn’t afford the display.”

“Enter Luthor, appearing as the noble savior of a beloved Metropolis tradition,” Clark said, picking up Lois’ train of thought. “With pockets like he has, the fireworks display would have been chump change. Meanwhile, he would be privy to exactly what the display would entail.”

“Which would put him in the perfect position to know when the most opportune moment would be for one very different firework to be set off,” Lois finished for him. She sipped thoughtfully from her coffee.

Clark nodded again. “Makes sense to me.”

Clark’s phone rang then, shattering their thoughts and sending tendrils of ideas shooting off into every direction at once. He picked up the receiver and cradled it between his ear and shoulder, giving Lois an apologetic smile as he did so.

“Daily Planet. This is Clark Kent,” he said, identifying himself to the caller. “Hey, Bobby. Uh-huh. Right. I see.” Clark nodded as he spoke. “Okay, that’s great. Give us twenty minutes. 982 Union. Got it. Thanks, see you then.” Clark hung up the phone, a hint of a smile on his face. “That was Bobby Bigmouth.”

“He has something for us?” Lois asked, excitement creeping into her voice.

Clark nodded again in affirmation. “Seems like one of the committee members approached him with some information.”

“Why wouldn’t they come straight to us?”

“I don’t know,” Clark said with a slight half-frown. “But he’s with Bobby now.”

They stood together. Lois hooked her arm intimately with Clark’s, which brought a smile to his face and caused his heart to skip a beat. It was amazing, he thought, that after her initial shock and anger over his secret, she had so quickly come around to acceptance. And, more even astounding to him, their friendship had not only survived, but had strengthened and thrived.

“Let’s go, partner,” she said, giving him a smile.

***

Bobby met them in the very back of a fresh fish store. Lois gagged as they entered and even Clark’s eyes watered. The stench of raw fish assaulted his sensitive nostrils like a literal blow to his face. He silently gave credit to the workers who milled about, seemingly oblivious to the overpowering odor. Even Bobby looked a little green around the gills. The professional snitch didn’t even so much as glance into the bag full of food Lois and Clark gave him in exchange for the lead he’d brought them.

Bobby was with the committee member; a short, red-faced, overweight, if not nervous but kindly looking man in his late forties. Bobby introduced him as Jeff Lawson. Jeff nodded to them politely, but did not offer his hand. His blood-stained apron told them that he worked at the store as a butcher.

“Miss Lane. Mr. Kent,” he greeted them warmly, though his eyes darted about the room as if expecting someone to jump out of thin air to attack him. “I’m glad you could meet with me.”

“Thanks for having Bobby contact us,” Lois said.

“You have some information for us?” Clark chimed in. “Regarding the incident at the Metropolis Park the other night?”

Jeff nodded. “I do. But, uh, you won’t reveal that I’m the one who told you anything, will you? If it was ever discovered that I was the one who tipped you off...”

His voice trailed for a moment as he used his bare forearm to wipe at his brow. Despite the refrigerator-like temperature of the place, he was sweating. Once again, Jeff’s eyes swept the room, looking for potential enemies.

“No, of course not,” Clark assured him. “We’d never reveal a source who wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Everything we say and do here is completely confidential,” Lois added. “You can trust us.”

Jeff nodded once again. “I know. That’s why I chose to contact you out of all the other reporters in Metropolis. You get results.”

“We do try,” Clark said, giving the man what he hoped was a comforting smile.

“Yes, you certainly do,” Jeff agreed.

“So, what do you know?” Lois asked after the man fell silent, as if in thought.

“Nothing for certain,” the butcher said, his eyes again attempting to ferret out spies. “But, well, I saw someone enter the area where the boat was docked. You know, the one with the fireworks. The whole operation is computerized, from driving the boat to where it needs to be, to shooting off the fireworks with nanosecond precision. Our system even handles the music that gets pumped into the park.”

“And you saw someone by the boat?” Clark prompted, trying to steer the man back on course.

“Yes,” Jeff said, inclining his head ever so slightly. “He had a briefcase with him. He didn’t see me; I’m sure of it. I was pretty far away. I saw him through a pair of binoculars. I like to go to the park and do some bird watching from time to time. It’s sort of a hobby of mine. Anyway,” he said, pulling himself back from his tangent, “I saw a man heading toward the boat area. That’s off limits to the public when we’re setting up for the display. A minute or two later, he came back, still holding his briefcase, strolling back across the park acting casual.”

“Did you see what this man did?” Clark asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm and neutral.

Jeff shook his head. “No. A line of tall hedges provided a screen. I lost sight of him. But, as I said, it was only a couple of minutes before he reemerged. When he was out of sight again, I went to check on the fireworks. I thought maybe he’d stolen some. But they were all accounted for. I thought maybe he was just someone who wandered into the area by accident and realized his mistake before turning around to head back the way he came from.”

“But you’re not convinced of that now,” Lois said, looking for confirmation of her own suspicions.

“That’s correct,” Jeff said. “I’ve been thinking about it for the past couple of days. I think he did steal a firework, and replaced it with the one that went rogue. It wouldn’t have taken him long, if he knew what he was doing.”

“Mr. Lawson, can you give us a description of the man you saw?” Clark asked.

“Better than that,” Jeff said. “I can give you a name.”

“A name? You know this person?” Lois asked.

Jeff nodded. “As a committee member, I’ve recently had a lot of dealings with him. His name is Asabi. And he works for...”

“Lex Luthor,” Clark jumped in, finishing the man’s statement for him. He took a breath, instantly regretted it, and let it out in a controlled manner.

“Yes,” the butcher said. “Like I said, I can’t confirm anything. I’m only telling you what I saw and what I believe happened.”

“Mr. Lawson,” Clark said, noting the man’s distinct unease, “why come to us? Why not the police?”

“Because, Mr. Kent, I’m afraid. LexCorp owns this business. If I went to the police and things got traced back to me, I don’t know what might happen. The store gets shut down, maybe. I get put on a blacklist so no one will hire me. I have a wife and four kids to provide for, as well as mortgage to pay. I can’t afford to lose this job...or...or have other unfortunate things happen to me.”

“Asabi could find out that you spoke with us too,” Clark argued.

“That’s true. But everyone knows that you and Miss Lane have a connection with Superman. Perhaps you could get word to him to watch over things?”

“We’ll talk to him,” Lois said, nodding, knowing the message was already delivered.

“Thank you,” the nervous little man said, sounding genuinely grateful, and breathing a small sigh of relief.

“Anything else?” Lois asked, scribbling notes on a small pad of paper.

Jeff thought for a moment. “No, not that I can think of.”

“Thank you,” Clark said, dipping his head toward the man, rather than grabbing his hand, which bore the same overpowering odor of fish. “We appreciate the help.”

“My pleasure, if it will help you find out exactly what went on,” the butcher said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my post.”

“By all means,” Clark said, gesturing toward the door, beyond which the man’s knives and co-workers awaited.

“Looks like we’ve got some work ahead of us,” Lois said, as the man trundled off, back to his work.

“And I know just the place to start,” Clark said, giving her a look that told her Superman would be on the case just as soon as they left Bobby Bigmouth behind.

***

“I’ll be damned,” Perry said, wandering over to Lois’ desk, holding a paper and slapping the front page with his free hand. “I still can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, Chief,” Lois said, putting down her mug of coffee.

“This has got to be the story of the year. Maybe of the decade.” Perry shook his head in disbelief. “One of the world’s biggest philanthropists turns out to be one of the world’s biggest criminals. And to think, I used to admire the man.”

“It’s not your fault, Chief,” Lois said. “Lex had just about everyone fooled.”

“Yeah, well,” Perry tried to argue before finding it difficult to verbalize the right words.

“At least he’s behind bars now, where he can’t hurt anyone anymore,” Clark said. “Although it does bother me that he escaped some of the charges, simply because the people he’d used were conveniently unable to take the stand. Like Dr. Carlton, who has basically been in a comatose state, ever since the smart kids incident. Or all the others who are no longer alive.”

“Well, son, even Elvis didn’t knock ‘em dead with every song. Either way, Lex is away for life. He won’t ever see the sun shining again except through metal bars and barbed wire lining the exercise yard.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clark said, not convinced. He wished he could have done more, somehow, to ensure that every charge stuck and that every person affected by Lex’s actions had their closure.

It had been a month since Lois and Clark had gotten the tip from Jeff Lawson, the man who’d indentified Asabi. Asabi, in turn, had identified Luthor as the brains behind the experiment, after Superman had brought him into the police station. The police, of course, had been notified of the man’s involvement in the firework debacle, and had been looking for him. They had been most thankful for Superman’s help.

Henderson and Wolfe had interrogated the man for hours. Asabi must have known how deeply in trouble he was. He’d cut a deal, offering up as much of Lex’s criminal activities as he knew about, in exchange for leniency from the judge. He too, was currently behind bars, and would be for the next thirty years. Clark wasn’t happy about that. After all, the man had been instrumental in some of Lex’s illegal dealings. In fact, he’d been the one to carry out some of those activities, to say nothing of the fact that he’d never once tried to talk Lex out of his plans. He’d even admitted it, for crying out loud! Thirty years somehow didn’t quite feel like justice. Clark had hoped the man would also get a life sentence.

Still, it was a relief to Clark that both men were locked away and no longer possessed the ability to hurt anyone else. He just hoped that Lex didn’t still have any cohorts on the outside, who could still carry out his wishes.

Perry laid down the copy of that afternoon’s edition of the Daily Planet. In bold, defiant letters, it proudly proclaimed that the House of Luthor had fallen with the trial’s conclusion. One of Jimmy’s photographs, of a snarling, enraged Lex, graced the front page of the paper, right alongside the article Lois and Clark had both worked on.

“You know, kids, I’m seeing a joint Kerth award in your future. Keep up the good work.”

“Will do, Perry,” Lois dutifully answered. She gave him a bit of a salute, making the editor chuckle.

“Now, I want you two to listen to me, and listen good. I don’t want to hear any arguments, you understand me?”

“Of course, Chief,” Clark said, from his perch on the edge of Lois’ desk. “What’s up?”

“Well, it seems to me you two have been all work and no play ever since that night in the park when this whole thing started. Now, I want you two to go and take a couple of days. Rest up. Relax. Recharge. Then get back here and give me more award-worthy stories. Got it?”

Clark shrugged and shared a look with Lois. She looked as eager as he did to take a step back from their work. Ever since the night of the fireworks and carnival, they’d barely got a break from their investigation. They hadn’t discussed their abandoned plans for a date during that time. Clark was more than ready for the opportunity to spend some time with Lois outside of their work obligations. If she wanted to, that was.

“Loud and clear,” Lois answered Perry.

At the same time, Clark said, “Sounds good to me, Chief.”

Perry blinked as his two top reporters willingly and eagerly accepted his order to take a few vacation days. Clark knew the man was stunned, not by his own agreement, but by Lois’. It was rare that Lois ever seemed happy to get away from her work.

“I’ll be,” Perry mumbled. “Lois, honey, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. I just happen to think you’re right. Clark and I do need some time away from the bullpen.”

“This, uh, wouldn’t have anything to do with your budding romance, now would it?” the editor teased in his soft Southern drawl. His eyes twinkled and he smiled knowingly at them both.

“Are we that transparent?” Clark wondered aloud.

“Like glass,” Perry said, chuckling.

“Were you in on the betting pool too?” Clark asked, chuckling himself.

Perry shook his graying head. “Nah. I don’t like to get involved in things like that. I prefer to leave that for the younger crowd.”

“Like Jimmy?” Lois said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Like Jimmy,” their boss confirmed. “Now go on. Get out of my newsroom before I throw you two out of here,” he teased lightly. “I better not see hide or hair of either one of you before next Monday. Got it?”

“Got it, Chief,” Clark said.

Perry laughed again and walked away from the desk, heading to the coffee break area. Clark could hear him whistling a tune; “Don’t Be Cruel” he realized after a few notes. It brought a smile to his face, to see Perry in such high spirits. There had been more than a few times during the course of the Luthor investigation when he was sure his boss was going to pop a blood vessel in his annoyance and stress.

Clark slipped from his perch and stood next to Lois’ desk. He shoved his hands into his pockets, filled with the uncertainty that always plagued him when he wasn’t exactly sure what to say to his partner. Lois didn’t seem to notice his unease. She merely got to work shutting her computer down. That seemed like a good idea to Clark, so he drifted to his own desk and shut his machine down. After a moment, Lois appeared before his desk.

“Ready?” she asked, giving him a smile.

Clark nodded. “All set.”

“Great. I’m starving. What do you say we go get something to eat?”

“Sounds great. You have any place in particular in mind?”

“I’m not picky,” Lois said, with a shake of her head. Her dark tresses bounced with the movement, captivating Clark. “Although, I do hope we can make it to Antonio’s during our week off.”

A slow grin curved Clark’s lips. He let it come, unchallenged. “You still want that date with me?” he teased her.

Lois rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Like you haven’t been thinking of it every day since I first agreed to go out with you.”

Clark spread his hands in admittance. “You got me there. How does tomorrow sound? Say, seven o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Clark said, his grin going even wider. “I’ll call Kenny tonight. In the meantime, how about we go back to my place...or yours...and I get us some of that Chinese food you enjoy so much?”

Clark linked her arm with his. Together, side by side, they walked through the newsroom. A few co-workers gave them approving smiles as they passed, though Clark got the impression that he and Lois weren’t supposed to see those looks.

“I’d say that it sounds like the perfect evening,” Lois said, her grin matching his own. “I’m just glad this investigation is over now so we can focus on what’s really important.”

“Me too, Lois,” Clark said, his heart soaring within the confines of his ribcage.

***

Clark knocked on Lois’ door at precisely six-fifteen, as he’d promised her. It had been a near enough thing. He’d been needed at a mugging. The poor old woman who’d been mugged had had a heart attack on the scene, and he’d rushed her off to the hospital. He’d stayed just long enough to make sure she was taken care of, then he’d flown back to where he’d bent a parking meter around the would-be thief and taken the young man to the police station. He’d barely had time to get back to his apartment, get changed at super speed, then bolt out the door in a rush to make it to Lois’ place on time.

A moment later, Lois opened the door, stunning Clark as he gazed upon her. She was in a beautiful violet dress, one that hugged all the right curves, leaving Clark’s heart rate elevated and his feet barely able to move. He was aware of the fact that he was staring and that he should probably say something.

“You look fantastic,” he managed, prying his tongue off the roof of his mouth where it had super-glued itself.

“Thanks,” Lois said, blushing a little. “You look great too.”

“Thanks. I, uh, brought you these,” he said, holding out a bouquet of flowers to her.

It wasn’t a large or expensive assortment of flowers. But when he’d dashed into the florist on his way over, he’d been instantly struck with the bouquet. No two flowers were the same. Each had a unique look, a unique scent that was theirs alone. Each was a different color, or shade of color. Somehow, it reminded him of Lois. Perhaps it was because she was such a complex woman, whose layers and contradictions intrigued and excited him. Perhaps it was because she had so many facets to her personality, each one beautiful and different, like the flowers in the bunch. Perhaps it was because the random assortment of blossoms reminded him of the weird and often unrelated babbling tangents Lois frequently launched into, often leaving him slightly bewildered even through the fact that he loved those moments.

Lois smiled and brought the flowers to her nose. She inhaled their perfume deeply, closing her eyes for a moment, in what looked to Clark like a moment of bliss. Then she looked back up at Clark, her eyes meeting his and shining with gratitude and happiness.

“They’re gorgeous,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So, are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time.”

“Sorry,” Clark apologized. “I didn’t want to pressure you by showing up too early. Not to mention that I was a little tied up with, uh, you know.”

Again Lois smiled. “That’s not what I meant. What I really meant was that I’ve been ready for this date since probably the moment after I came to understand why you hid certain knowledge from me. No, wait, that’s not true. I was ready for this before you even asked me out, I think.”

As she spoke, Lois turned into her kitchen, pulling Clark along in her wake. Opening a cabinet, she found a crystal vase. She quickly filled it with water, then unwrapped the bouquet. A moment later, she snipped the very bottoms of the stems with a pair of scissors and placed the blossoms into the vase. She moved whole thing into the living room and placed it in the center of the coffee table. Stepping backwards a pace, she admired the effect.

“Perfect,” she said.

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I love them,” Lois gently corrected him.

She grabbed her purse from the couch and ushered Clark out the door. With deft hands, she set the locks on her door. A few minutes later, they were on their way, Clark driving Lois’ Jeep across town to Antonio’s.

Walking into the restaurant, Clark gave his name to the hostess, feeling like the world’s richest, luckiest man alive. Just being able to have a reservation at Antonio’s made him feel important — only the super wealthy and famous could get spur of the moment reservations at the restaurant, and even then, it was never a guarantee. Now here he was, a virtual nobody, compared to the usual clientele of the place, his reservation less than twenty-four hours old. But to do so with Lois on his arm, knowing that he was beginning a new chapter in his life — one which included Lois in a capacity as more than just a friend — that made him feel like his heart might burst with love and happiness.

Never in his life had he ever felt so glad to be alive.

The food was exquisite, though Clark barely remembered eating any of it. Afterwards, he could barely even recall what he and Lois had ordered. He could scarcely bring to mind any memory of the bottle of wine he had brought to the table. He had only the most fleeting of impressions of the stunning décor within the walls of the restaurant. Afterwards, whenever someone asked about the restaurant, he could only come up with the words “elegant” and “warm,” knowing it had to have been more than just that.

Everything simply paled in comparison to Lois.

Their conversation never ceased, easily, fluidly moving from topic to topic. Clark found himself under the spell of her voice, noting how different she seemed to be that night. There was no trace of Mad Dog Lane. His work partner was gone. Her usually teasing tongue was subdued. Gone was the woman who joked with him about his taste in ties or poked good-natured jabs at his odd little quirks. She was not his best friend that night.

Instead, she was so much more.

She was simply the most beautiful, most elegant, most feminine woman on the planet. She was his date. She even sounded a little unsure of herself from time to time, as she told him all about herself — things Clark never would have guessed and certainly didn’t think he would have ever discovered by only being her friend. Each thing he learned about her made his heart both ache for the hardships she’d endured and burst with pride for her that she’d overcome them to become the strong woman she was. Each new discovery helped him make sense of the complex person that was Lois Lane and shed light on things she’d once hidden away from him in the dark shadows of the walls she’d built around herself.

Each new piece of information made him love her more than he’d ever thought possible.

He had known it, before their date, that he loved her — had loved her since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. But by the end of that night, he knew for sure that he’d never feel for anyone else the way he felt for Lois. She alone held his heart, would ever hold his heart. He only hoped that this first date was just the beginning for them. He so desperately wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side, loving her and being loved by her in return.

At the end of the meal, Clark’s friend, Kenny, approached their table. He towered half a foot taller than Clark and looked as though he could easily out-muscle the reporter. But he was all smiles and politeness, and his sparkling eyes gave away the fact that he was always ready with a laugh.

“Clark!” he said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Good to see you again! I don’t mean to intrude, but I just had to come say hi.”

“Hey, Kenny! Good to see you too. It’s been too long.”

“You can say that again. What’s it been? Five years?”

“Yeah. Kenny, I’d like you to meet Lois,” Clark said, unable to hide the ear to ear grin having Lois with him, as his date, caused.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the chef said, extending a hand and smiling. “Clark won’t stop talking about you.”

Lois laughed. “The pleasure’s mine. And my compliments on the meal. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted food so delicious before.”

“Thank you,” Kenny said, dipping his head in acknowledgement and beaming with pride.

“So, what has Clark said about me?” Lois asked, grinning, and knowing the question would make Clark squirm a little in embarrassment.

“Oh, the usual. How he’s got the most beautiful, intelligent woman in the world as his partner and friend. How much he’s been looking forward to this first date with you.”

“Kenny!” Clark sputtered, feeling a blush creeping up on him.

“Personally, I’ve never seen him rave about anyone the way he talks about you,” Kenny continued, giving Clark a bright smile.

“Kenny!” Clark said again. This time he couldn’t force away the bloom of heat in his cheeks.

But Lois only laughed again, seemingly at complete ease that Clark had so enthusiastically spoken of her to someone else. To be honest, it surprised Clark somewhat. It was no secret that Lois enjoyed a good compliment — didn’t everyone? — but he’d seen, first hand, how knowing he’d spoken so highly of her to others had once caused her to feel uncomfortable.

“Listen,” the chef said, glancing toward the door to the kitchen. “I wish I could stay and chat longer, but I need to get back to my staff. It was nice to finally meet you, Miss Lane. Clark, call me sometime.”

“Absolutely,” Clark said, nodding. “Maybe we can shoot some hoops at the end of the week.”

“Sounds great,” the man said, before heading off back to his post.

“I, uh...sorry about that,” Clark apologized to Lois. “I had no idea he was going to come say hello.”

“It’s all right,” she said, as the waiter came and set a thick, rich slice of chocolate cake down in the center of the table for them, as well as two forks so they could share. “He seems like a really nice guy.”

“One of the greatest,” Clark confirmed. “When he’s not embarrassing me, that is.” He gave her a crooked smile.

“Actually, I like knowing that you hold me in such high regard,” Lois said, suddenly losing her demeanor of a shy date and once more becoming the friend Clark had fallen in love with.

“Well then,” he replied, taking up his usual light, teasing tone with her once again, “I’ll bear that in mind and sing your praises wherever we go from now on. I’ll be your very own, personal minstrel.”

That brought out a laugh and a broad smile from Lois, breaking down the last remnants of her uncertainty in this scary new step of their relationship. Clark relaxed too, finding, to his surprise, that even he had been a little shy and insecure that night. But that laugh, that wondrous, enchanting sound, dissipated the tension he’d been so unaware of, like mist in the warmth of the summer sun.

They shared their dessert, laughing the whole time, each completely at ease. Clark thought it to be the most natural thing in all the world, to be sitting there with Lois, his partner, his best friend, his date, and the only person on the planet who was both privy to his secret and able to be trusted with it, outside of his family. It felt so right to finally be on a date with Lois. Like a puzzle, she was the piece, the only piece, who could fit into the missing space in his life, making him complete.

With dessert finished, Clark paid the bill and left a generous tip for their waiter. Then he helped Lois from her chair and linked their arms, escorting her from the restaurant. They retrieved the Jeep from the valet parking, Clark once again sliding into the driver’s seat. He loved being able to do things for Lois, even if it was as simple as being the one to drive them someplace, though it wasn’t too often that she allowed him to do that. For a moment, they just sat in silence, the car unmoving.

“So...” Clark began, a little nervously.

“So...” Lois echoed.

“I had a great time,” Clark said, fumbling for words.

“Me too.”

“I was wondering...I don’t think I’m ready to call it a night just yet. Would you be interested in seeing a movie?”

“I’d like that,” Lois said, nodding. “Truth be told, I was kind of hoping we could continue this date. It’s been wonderful.”

Clark put the car into gear and turned down the street which would eventually lead them to the movie theatre.

“It really has,” he agreed. “I’m glad we finally got to do this.”

“Me too,” Lois said again. “Everything’s right with the world, isn’t it? Lex is in jail. Perry is thrilled with our coverage of the investigation and trial. We had a great dinner date together.”

“Everything just seems to be falling into place,” Clark said, finishing her train of thought.

“My thoughts exactly.”

It did not take long to get to the movie theatre. But to their disappointment, the show they were hoping to see was sold out, and neither of them were all that interested in the ones which still did have tickets available. Clark stuck his hands into his pockets, debating with himself as to what he should say now.

“Sorry,” he finally managed, feeling sheepish, though he knew it wasn’t his fault. “Maybe I should have picked up tickets earlier in the day.”

“It’s okay,” Lois said, rubbing his arm affectionately. “It’s no big deal.”

“We could try the theatre across town,” he suggested.

Lois shook her head. “Nah. We’d never get there without cheating,” she said, lowering her voice to a confidential whisper. “Besides, it’s opening night. They’re probably sold out over there too.”

“Well, there is one place I can think of that we can go,” he replied, a hint of mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“Oh, where’s that?”

“My place. We can rent a video on the way and have our own, private movie screening.”

“I’d like that. But let’s not rent a movie. Let’s just go to your place. We’ll make some coffee and just relax for a while.”

“Sure,” Clark agreed, unlocking the car door again.

Soon they were at his apartment, Clark carrying Lois’ gym bag of stakeout clothes so she could change into something more comfortable. Once inside, Lois took the bag and headed to the bathroom, leaving Clark to change at super speed into more casual apparel. Then he set the coffee brewing, humming to himself as he went through the familiar motions.

It wasn’t at all unusual for him to be making a fresh pot of coffee to share with Lois. He’d done it a hundred times before, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late at night, and, on the rare occasion, in the absolute dead of night when she’d come knocking on his door in fright or bubbling over with excitement as she finally figured out some missing piece to an investigation they were working on. He’d always graciously accepted her into his apartment, happy to have her there and feeling the whole place sparkle and come to life with her very presence. At first, she’d come only as his partner; the partner she had grudgingly become when Perry had first been struck with the idea to pair them together. But as time had worn on, she’d come as his friend, as well as the person he worked with.

And now...

Now she was there as the woman he was dating. His — dare he think it? — girlfriend.

“Hey,” she said, stepping into his kitchen, clad now in comfortable shorts and a soft-looking shirt. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just happy you’re here,” Clark answered truthfully. “And of all the times you’ve been here before.”

“It’s different now, huh? With us dating, I mean.”

“A little,” Clark admitted. “But in a fantastic, exciting new way. At least, it is for me.”

“It is for me too. And I feel like...I don’t know...like we should have been doing this from the start.”

Clark nodded his agreement and set to work preparing their drinks in their preferred ways. He handed Lois her mug, then took a sip from his own.

“Let’s sit out on the terrace,” Lois suggested, after taking a sip of her own drink. “It’s such a beautiful night out. I feel like we shouldn’t stay cooped up inside.”

“Sounds good.”

They both took their drinks to Clark’s terrace. Clark dragged two chaise lounge chairs together and guided Lois to one. He held her mug while she settled into the comfortable cushions, before sitting in his own chair. He handed Lois back her mug, smiling at her as he did so. Lois let out what sounded like a contented sigh.

“So...” Clark said, grasping for words. “I had a great time tonight, Lois. And I was wondering if you’d allow me to take you out again. Like maybe tomorrow?”

“I had a great time too. Probably the best time I’ve ever had in my life. But, well, aren’t you sick of me yet? I mean, we see each other every day at work. Don’t you want a break from me?” she asked, and Clark caught the joking tone to her words.

“I will never get sick of being around you,” he answered sincerely.

That stunned Lois into silence for several heartbeats. But after a moment, she recovered.

“In that case, I would love to go out with you again. What’d you have in mind?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Clark said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “First I was hoping you’d even want to go out again. I figured I’d worry about the actual date once I knew that much.”

For a time, they sat in a companionable silence, simply drinking their coffee and enjoying the other’s company. Lois finished hers and set the mug on the ground, alongside her chair. Then she stood and moved to Clark’s chair. Clark scooted over in surprise as she climbed up onto the lounge chair beside him, snuggled into his side, and lay her head on his chest. His arm immediately encircled her, holding her securely to him, the tenderness behind the move showing her just how precious she was to him.

“You know, knowing the things I’ve recently discovered about you...I think...in a way, it’s brought us closer.”

“Me too,” Clark said, putting his free hand behind his head as they reclined, looking up at the stars. “I know I’ve said it before, but, I’m glad you know. It was never easy, trying to hide from you.”

“I used to dream about dating Superman,” Lois said in a whisper. Clark thought perhaps she sounded a little embarrassed.

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“I used to dream of the adventure it would be.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he prodded, teasing her now.

“Like...impromptu picnics along the Rhine. Or lazy Sunday afternoon flights to nowhere in particular.”

“We can still do those things, Lois.”

“I know. But...I’m not so sure I want them anymore. Don’t get me wrong. Flying with you is one of the most amazing things in the world, and I’ll always love doing it. Especially knowing what I do now, that you and he are one. But tonight...tonight we were just a normal, average couple, and it was beyond anything I ever could have imagined a date with Superman -or with Clark — would be.”

“I’m glad, Lois. And for the record, I will always love flying with you too.” He gave her a wry grin he was sure she saw as she lifted her head to peer at him. “Particularly when I’m not flying you away from some mortal danger,” he added, utterly unable to help himself.

Lois laughed. “Yeah. I like it better too when I haven’t been snatched away from death’s door. Something about me being more relaxed and able to enjoy the view.”

“Not that I mind,” Clark said, still teasing her.

“Good. Because I really don’t intend on slowing down anytime soon. I’m still going to do whatever is necessary to break a story.”

“And win your Pulitzer,” Clark supplied, holding her a little closer and resting his chin against the top of her head.

“Well, we will, at any rate,” Lois said, snuggling deeper into his chest. For a moment, she was silent, shifting her gaze up to the star filled sky above.

“Lois? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

Lois shook her head, though she was still laying against him. “No. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Care to share?”

She nodded. “I used to think I could love Superman. I used to think I could love him even if he was completely powerless; an ordinary guy leading a normal life.”

Clark bit his lower lip, growing suddenly concerned over Lois’ serious tone and topic change. He hoped — prayed — she wasn’t about to drop some bombshell on him. He hoped she wasn’t about to say that she was wrong and that she could never -would never — be able to reciprocate his feelings. His heart gave a nervous spasm in his chest. He wondered if she could feel the change in the organ’s rhythm.

“And?” he asked, unable to stop himself, needing to know the answer and dreading it at the same time. How he managed not to choke on the word was a mystery to him.

He knew, on a very real, very visceral level, that her next words would either make him the happiest man on the planet or unreservedly destroy him.

“And,” Lois said, drawing the word out longer than was necessary. She turned, twisting in Clark’s embrace to look him in the eye. “It turns out, I was half right.”

Clark swallowed hard around the lump that had appeared in his throat. “How’s that?”

“I don’t love Superman.”

“You don’t?” The words came out half strangled and fearful.

“No, I don’t. If I’ve learned anything since that night, when I found out the truth, it’s that you were right. Superman isn’t real. And I can’t love someone who isn’t real. Who I can love is the ordinary man. The one who holds down a job and pays his rent on time. The one who brings me coffee and makes it better than even I do. The one who will share his chocolate dessert with me or listen to me rant or brighten my day with a smile — who stands when a woman enters the room and holds doors open for people without expecting so much as a thank you in return. The one who edits my copy, even when I claim I don’t need or want it, and who has never turned me away from his door when I’ve needed him. I love you, Clark. Not the caped hero. Not the powers. You. Clark Kent.”

Clark’s eyes slid shut in bliss for the briefest, most fleeting moment, before he opened them again and met Lois’ gaze once more. His heart was flying, while simultaneously smashing itself against his ribs as though it wished to escape his chest. He used his free hand to cup her cheek warmly, while holding her in a steady, even gaze.

“And I love you, Lois. I love everything about you. I have, ever since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Being with you — working alongside you every day and spending time together as friends outside of work — has been the greatest time of my life. Until now. Now...dating you...I feel like everything in my life has paled in comparison to this.”

In the next instant, his lips found hers — or perhaps her lips had found his — he wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were together. He lost himself to the moment, knowing that this was the greatest moment in his life, and knowing, somehow, that things would only get better from there on out.

THE END

Some Things Are Meant to Be

By Deja Vu <snot_vampire@hotmail.com>

Rated PG-13

Submitted August 2011

Summary: A painful experience has made Clark fight his destiny, but he finally allows himself to pursue his dream of being a reporter. Despite his intentions to restrict himself, however, he finds out that some things are meant to be.

Rating Explanation: This story is rated PG-13 for mild language, mature themes, heavy angst, some violence, and mild sensuality.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Lois and Clark (or the plots, situation, or dialogue taken from the TV series — in particular, I use a lot from the Pilot episode, though in most cases the dialogue isn’t exact). I also don’t own Smallville — which has been a bit of inspiration in a few places — or Superman or any of the works the fic references.

Author’s Thanks: First off, thanks to my GE, Amy, for her great help in preparing this fic for the archive. Second, many thanks to KittandChips for helping me get this fic off the ground and for suggesting the present title. A hundred thousand thanks to Female Hawk, my wonderful beta reader. She not only helped smooth out rough sentences, but she also helped in-depth with several scenes extensively. This whole fic works a whole lot smoother than it did at first thanks to her, and I really appreciate all the work she put into it. Finally, thanks to DW for being so helpful with all of the South Africa stuff!

Author’s Notes: Please forgive me if there are any historical or scientific inaccuracies. I did use http://www.wikihow.com/Treat-a-Bullet-Wound as a source for information on gunshot wounds, and I used Wikipedia for some information on Elvis Presley, and the chapter titles and the fic’s title are from songs sung by Elvis (though they may not be ones he popularized himself). Both constructive criticism and general feedback are welcome.

Notes on South Africa: The Rand Afrikaans University was a real university, and it is now formed into the University of Johannesburg and located about 20 miles away from the Lion Park (http://www.lion-park.com/contact/). The university courtyard is my creation. I’ve taken a few liberties with the South Africa stuff, but you probably won’t notice unless you’re well acquainted with South Africa. I do want to note, however, that because of my South African setting for part of the story, I’m setting this story further forward than Lois and Clark normally is (not in a “futuristic” sense or a “they’re older” sort of way, just that they were born later for certain scenarios to work better).

***

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea,

Darling, so it goes —

Some things are meant to be.

— “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You”

***

Chapter 1: Trouble

If you’re looking for trouble,

You came to the right place.

If you’re looking for trouble,

Just look right in my face.

— “Trouble”

***

In the big city, everyone was a shadow on the ground.

As long as there was light, there would be light’s antithesis: the shadow. But the life of a shadow wasn’t an enviable one. Shadows had a sort of vague presence, and they came in varying lengths and shapes, yet they were always ignored and walked all over. No one ever tried to make out a shadow’s features. A shadow just remained a dark blur cared about by none but the occasional artist or poet.

Of course, the rudeness of the woman at the front desk of the hotel where I had just checked in might have had something to do with my suddenly pessimistic view of Metropolis.

Trying to clear my head, I sighed and plopped my luggage onto the ground of my new room. The suitcase was a holdover from my college days, but it showed no major signs of wear. I almost hated to even set it on the floor — I was convinced I had officially found the seediest hotel in Metropolis. “Rundown” didn’t even begin to describe the Hotel Apollo. If Mom had known I was going to be staying in a dump like this, she would have probably done everything in her power to gather enough money for me to stay somewhere nicer — even if she had to dip into her and my dad’s retirement fund to do it.

I slowly gazed around, searching for roaches with that “maybe-it-would-be-better-if-I-didn’t-look-because-I-won’t-like-what-I-find” kind of feeling. I guessed the room was the price I had to pay for coming to the big city. Even a rathole like this one was ridiculously expensive compared to hotels of far higher quality back home.… But the cost of living was high in Metropolis, and if I wanted to live in the Big Apricot, I would have to become accustomed to making some sacrifices.

My eyes moved past the hot plate (no stove in a place like this) and fell on a payphone set against a wall. You know you’re in a cheap place when.…

I shook my head, annoyed. You need to keep positive, I told myself resolutely. Your interview for the Daily Planet is tomorrow, and you’ll need all the confidence you can muster. I certainly didn’t have an ideal résumé for someone trying to get a job at a major newspaper. I knew that much already.

I was at such a pivotal point in my life. Everything was riding on my meeting with Perry White. And if I didn’t get the job — well, that was a bridge to be crossed when I came to it.

I started to sit on the questionable-looking bed but reconsidered. I had spent long hours riding in a bus from Kansas, and I wasn’t ready to sit again. I had thought it would be nice to come to a room and relax after having eaten a cheap but hearty dinner, but now I was having second thoughts. A walk sounded like a much better idea. It was dark outside already, and I wasn’t in the best part of town, so it probably wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do, but I didn’t want to be in that room any more than was necessary. And — what was more — I needed to buy some food supplies.

I opened the door, patting the pocket where my room key was nestled. Before long, I was a few blocks away from the hotel, strolling down the sidewalk with my hands in my pockets.

I wandered aimlessly, not having any specific destination in mind, though I was careful to mentally mark where I was going. It would be terrible to get lost in Metropolis my first night. My hand moved to the small lump in my shirt that was my locket, and my fingers traced its outline. If I ran into any madmen or muggers — well, it would be bad for me. I needed to be careful and stay out of trouble.

Letting out a sigh, I paused for a moment and looked up at the sky. The big city wasn’t like Kansas. The stars were obscured by artificial lighting and pollution, and the people were more wrapped up in advancing themselves than their communities. It was a rat race, plain and simple.

And yet despite all that, I had felt drawn to Metropolis — still felt drawn to Metropolis, even though I was seeing its uglier side. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was that attracted me, though I guess the fast pace probably appealed to me most. I had been ducking my head far too frequently for far too long. It was time to spread my wings and fly.

I immediately winced and amended mentally, Well, stretch my legs and run, at least.

I would always love Kansas. It was the place I’d called home for so long. But it had finally been time for me to leave.

Mom and Dad were certainly more than willing to kick me out of the nest, I thought with a smile. It wasn’t like I could blame them. Having their son move back in with them after going off to school couldn’t have exactly been what they’d desired. But they’d wanted to help me, and they had let me stay with them even when I became editor of Smallville’s local paper, knowing I had needed most of the money to pay back my student loans, as I hadn’t had a full scholarship, and things were always tight on the farm.

And so, I had finally found my way to Metropolis, where I was trying to move up in the world. And while I likely wouldn’t get hired by the Planet, at least I could say I had tried. That was always a good first step, right?

I had just barely started walking again when I heard several shots ring out in the darkness. I froze, my mind racing. It would be smarter to just turn tail and run. I shouldn’t be messing with people with guns.… But if there had been an innocent civilian involved, I couldn’t just stand by and watch evil win. And even if it was a shootout between criminals, not even the lowest scum on earth deserved to die.

My mind made up, I jogged to the alley from which the shots had originated after looking around for street names and identifying landmarks. In the alley, I found four people on the ground. A cursory glance revealed they had all been shot in the altercation. I wasn’t surprised — I’d heard a lot of bullets.

I was no crime scene investigator, but judging by their positions and their clothing, they seemed to be members of two separate camps. There were two men in well-tailored suits close to each other on the ground, and several feet away from them were a man and a woman in what could only be called street clothes.

I stood there hesitating for a few seconds. I didn’t want to touch them — my pulse accelerated at the thought — but I pushed past my reluctance and shook my head to clear it. If I didn’t do anything, they would probably all die. I took in a deep breath and moved into the dank alley.

As I kicked away their guns — lest they decide to get trigger happy while I was trying to offer assistance — I moved around and checked their pulses as gently as I could. But it didn’t take me long to discover that the only person who had survived was one of the two men in the expensive suits. He looked vaguely familiar, but I figured he probably just had one of those faces. As I knelt beside him, he emitted a groan and tried to move.

“Just stay still,” I told him, not wanting him to hurt himself further.

Swallowing down my fear, I carefully removed his expensive-looking pinstriped jacket — feeling a bulky object I suspected was a phone — and searched for bullet wounds. I thankfully found he just had one bullet wound on his chest. Judging by its position, I thought he would probably make it…but only if he was kept from bleeding until the ambulance arrived. That meant I couldn’t just phone 911 and run. I had to stick around.

“Who are you?” the man whispered in a voice that had some bite to it. I couldn’t blame him for not trusting me — for all he knew, I was planning to mug him and only pretending to play the part of Good Samaritan. Still, his tone nonetheless seemed a little out of place.

“My name is Clark Kent,” I told him, sounding calmer than I felt, “and I’m going to unbutton your shirt. I need to stop your bleeding.”

He groaned something I could only assume was assent, and I got to work on the top buttons of his shirt while mentally reviewing what I knew about gunshot wounds. I hadn’t exactly studied the subject in detail, but I did recall that I was supposed to try to keep air from getting in, as it could potentially lead to a sucking chest wound.

When I had the shirt open enough that I could see, I hesitated briefly and then stuck my right hand inside.

“I’m going to apply pressure to the wound,” I told him in a soothing voice. I was trying to keep my hand from trembling. I really didn’t want to touch him — to do so was to break a rule I had made for myself. But I wasn’t left with much choice.

He mumbled something, and I pressed on his chest with the utmost care, using my hand to keep the air out and hopefully stop the bleeding. I waited for a second to make sure I wasn’t hurting him. But his face didn’t twitch in response to my touch, so I brought my free hand over to his jacket, which I had placed on the ground, and I managed — after a little struggling — to get his phone out of the coat’s pocket.

Fumbling with the device, I told the wounded man, “I’m going to call 911. Just hang in there.”

The call was a bit frustrating, as I succinctly gave all the necessary details once and then got transferred to someone else who needed me to say everything again, but at last the call was over and help was on its way. I set the phone on the ground and turned my attention back to the brown-haired man whose life I was trying to save.

“I think you’re going to be okay,” I said softly. “Just try to take it easy.”

“The man…beside me — ”

“The three others here are dead,” I told him with a wince. “I’m sorry. Were that man and woman…trying to mug you?”

I looked into his face expectantly and frowned. It was constricted in pain, and his hold on consciousness was tenuous. But that wasn’t what surprised me. What surprised me was the change my question had made in his expression. Despite the great pain afflicting him, his face now betrayed a great hatred.

He was quiet for several seconds, and I began to dismiss my perception of his animosity as a strange byproduct of his slipping into unconsciousness, but he finally spoke in a voice that seemed strangely controlled. “We…we thought someone was crying out for help, so we came into the alley…. They…tried to mug us, and then they shot at my assistant, and we shot back at them.”

I looked away from him. Somehow, I knew that wasn’t exactly what had happened. The shots had just been too rapid for his story to be plausible — surely everyone must have had a gun at the ready when the shots were fired. But I shook my head and tried to dismiss my doubts. Despite his odd moods, he certainly didn’t seem like a bad person.…But what was a rich man like him doing in this part of town? And why couldn’t I shake the feeling of uneasiness he caused me? Had I imagined that angry look on his face?

“What…what was your name again?” he asked me groggily.

Though I wasn’t certain he would hear me, I answered, “Clark Kent.” My right hand twitched as a reminder of what I was doing, and I looked down at it. It was soaked with his blood, but it seemed as if I was succeeding in helping slow the seepage from the wound. Still, I knew he needed medical help fast. If I left now, he would probably bleed to death. My hand started to shake, but with some effort, I willed it to stop.

Wanting to get my mind off my hand and the torn flesh beneath it, I was about to ask him what his name was, but he groaned loudly, his face contorting in agony.

“An ambulance will be here soon,” I informed him, trying to sound reassuring. “It’ll just be a little longer.”

“Thank…thank you,” he managed.

“Don’t speak any more. Save your strength.”

I looked worriedly toward the street. I wasn’t certain how long my hand would effectively serve as a bandage.… And I wasn’t sure how long I could actually force myself to maintain our contact.

At last, however, emergency vehicles surrounded the alley, and the wounded man was placed on a stretcher and moved into an ambulance. I considered asking if I could go with him, but I didn’t even know his name, so I let him go alone. Surely a man with that much money must have had some friends. I doubted he would want a stranger staying with him. If I did do that, he would probably just think I wanted something.

As I watched the ambulance leave, a police officer approached me. He asked several questions which I answered as best as I could, and he got my statement. When I was at last free to go, I reflected that maybe the room I had rented wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. At least I would have a place to rest my head. Some people weren’t even fortunate enough to have that.

But before I returned to the Hotel Apollo, I went to a small store. I found their tiny restroom and washed my hands, thankful they had soap and paper towels. My right hand was crusted with the stranger’s blood, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Rinsing the blood off myself felt almost baptismal, yet I still felt somewhat stained in a way.

After I finished in the store’s bathroom and bought some sandwich and breakfast supplies, I returned to my room in a bit of a daze and placed some of the items in the grimy refrigerator. I set my alarm clock and stripped down to my boxers. Then I collapsed on my bed in tears, no longer able to hold myself together. The cloud of fear I had been beating back descended on me, and I fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of death.

***

Chapter 2: Don’t be Scared to Search … Time Rolls Back the Shadows of Your Mind

Then a larger thought said, “Stop your crying.

Don’t be scared to search, ‘cause you may find

Fate holds out a candle for your footsteps.

Time rolls back the shadows of your mind.”

— “We Can Make the Morning”

***

The next day, I woke early and went through my morning routine with care, trying to wipe away all thoughts of the previous day. My shirt and suit were fortunately wrinkle-free, and I chose one of my tamer ties to complete the ensemble after passing up a few of my favorite — but “nontraditional” — ties. I had quite a tie collection, though I usually just wore ties on Sundays. Now, however, maybe I would get an opportunity to show off my eclectic collection more frequently. As I smoothed down the tie I had chosen, I thought about the person who had given it to me.

I’d had a crush on Lana Lang for my first few years of high school. But when we had finally started dating, her controlling side had come to the fore, and she had insisted I do a lot of things I didn’t especially want to do — such as add ties that weren’t “so crazy” to my collection. Though her attempts at control had irked me at the time, in hindsight I was glad for her tie demands at least, and I sent a mental “thanks” in the direction of Kansas or wherever it was she’d finally ended up. We had lost touch after breaking up the summer following our senior year, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I heard one day that she’d become some big-time CEO. That woman had been made to be someone’s boss — just not mine.

I got out my shoe polish and shined my shoes, feeling anal-retentive but wanting to be meticulous. Shoes so shiny you could see your face in them weren’t something that could make or break a job interview…but they would certainly make me feel better.

When I was done, my eyes rested on my glasses, and — for a reason probably based more on procrastination than whimsy or leanings toward obsessive compulsiveness — I grabbed them to give them their own shine. After I finished cleaning the lenses, there was only one thing left.

Inhaling deeply, I walked to the sink and picked up my white locket from the counter. Clutching its chain in my hand, I went and sat on the bed. Then I placed the chain around my neck.

***

An hour and a half later, I was slowly eating a bowl of cereal and thinking about my upcoming interview. I usually couldn’t handle normal breakfast foods like bacon and eggs in the morning, as they made me queasy, but cereal always worked well enough. As I ate, however, I kept my eye fixed on my watch. If I was late for my interview, any sliver of a chance I might have had in being hired by the Daily Planet would surely disappear.

When I was ready to leave, I called a taxi cab and grabbed my portfolio. I climbed into the back of the taxi with no small feelings of trepidation.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“The Daily Planet,” I told him. My thoughts were instantly pulled to what was ahead of me. What would the newspaper building be like? Certainly nothing like the building that housed the Smallville Press. I knew that for certain.

And as for the interview.…

I was certain I could feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach…or perhaps it was fish swimming in there. Well, whether or not there were actually live creatures twisting my innards, my nervousness was obvious to my chatty cab driver, who tried his best to make me more relaxed by providing me with a constant flow of mostly one-sided conversation, most of which concerned the antics of his two zany cats.

Finally, I heard: “We’re here!”

I inhaled deeply, clenching my fists slightly before unbuckling. I paid and tipped the well-meaning driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the Daily Planet. As I stared upward at the great globe, I felt a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety. I’d seen the symbol on the front page of the newspaper many times, but being here, staring up at it while the life of Metropolis pulsed around me, really drove home the reality of it to me. I was standing right by the headquarters of one of the greatest newspapers in the world. And I had a chance to be a part of it.

Citizens of Metropolis shuffled around me, going about their daily lives, unconcerned with the strange man standing in the middle of the sidewalk and hampering the flow of foot traffic. Though I knew I might be annoying people nearby, I kept staring at that globe. I wanted it to be a part of my life. I couldn’t really explain why, but something about it beckoned me. Something about it whispered, “Home.”

I finally forced my feet forward and passed through the revolving doors of that great metropolitan newspaper. After speaking to someone at the front desk and getting directions, I went to the elevator and began my ascent to the newsroom, trying to remain composed. But once I had taken my first few steps out of the elevator, I couldn’t help pausing once more.

The room was a flurry of activity. Couriers raced around, people typed frantically at their keyboards, reporters picked up faxes.… Everyone had a job, a duty, a purpose. This was what I wanted — what I’d needed for so long. There was no doubt in my mind.

My gaze took in the whole newsroom as I reveled in this sense of belonging. Finally, my eyes stopped on an office across the room. That must belong to the Editor-in-Chief, I thought. My breath caught in my throat. I was finally going to meet the legendary Perry White.

What would he be like? How would I handle myself during my interview?

My knees felt like rubber, but I stood straighter and moved forward with determination. I would not be afraid. I would be confident.

I knocked on the door to Perry White’s office, and he barked, “Come in!”

My confidence flew out the window like a startled crow, and I was hit by an unmistakable wave of anxiety. So much for not being afraid.

I’d heard of Perry White’s great accomplishments, but I’d never heard much about the man himself. What if he were a vicious tyrant who enjoyed eating wannabe reporters like me for breakfast? What would I do if he took one look at me and told me to hit the road?

After straightening my tie, I took in a deep breath and told myself I was being ridiculous. My mental reprimand was so convincing I almost believed it.

Shaking only slightly, I tucked my portfolio under my left arm and used my free hand to open the door, praying this interview would go well and wouldn’t end up with me being served as dog food.

The Planet’s Chief Editor was busy reading something and didn’t even glance up when I came in, so I waited uneasily for a few seconds to be noticed.

At last, not knowing if he would ever acknowledge my presence if I remained silent, I ventured, “Mr. White?”

He lifted his head, and I saw the dawn of realization in his eyes as he looked at me and then at the portfolio I was holding.

“Ah, you must be Kent,” he commented with a Southern accent and a tone much kinder than the one he had used when shouting for me to enter his office. Maybe he wasn’t such a bulldog, then?

Gazing briefly around his office, I noticed a picture of Elvis on the wall. I wondered idly if he was just a big fan or if he was also from Tennessee. His accent would certainly support both. A further look also revealed an Elvis clock — the legs of which were moving back and forth like the tail of one of those Kit-Cat clocks that had once been found everywhere. The movement wasn’t quite like the King’s gyrations, but it was close enough, I supposed.

Mr. White set down the piece of paper he was holding and stood. He started to hold his hand out to shake mine but thought better of it and instead gestured toward a chair. “Please, take a seat.”

I sat and clutched my portfolio a little tighter to myself. “Yes, sir.”

“I talked to Professor Carlton about you,” he commented as he returned to his chair. “He was singing your praises as loudly as a robin in the springtime.”

I gave a small smile. Professor Carlton had been an amazing teacher, and I still stayed in contact with him. He was the only reason I’d gotten this interview in the first place. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I would have ever tried to get hired by the Planet without his encouragement — even if it had been a dream of mine.

The Planet’s Editor-in-Chief picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it in the air. Looking at it, I realized it was the résumé I had faxed him from Smallville. He shook it gently and remarked, “It says here you were the editor of the Smallville Press. That’s in, uh.…”

“Kansas,” I supplied quietly.

“Right. Kansas.” He scanned my résumé, but I had a feeling he was doing it just for show. I was certain he knew what he thought of it already. My suspicions were just further confirmed when he set it down and gave a preoccupied sigh. “Kent, I must confess I’m a bit concerned — and not just about your résumé.”

I nodded and steeled myself, readying the speech I’d prepared.

He gave me a hard look. “Now, Professor Carlton told me that you’re suffering from — ”

“Aphephobia,” I offered feebly.

“Right. You don’t like to touch people.”

I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

I opened my mouth to give him my spiel, but he continued: “Now, son, you have to understand that in a business like this, not touching people could be — well, it could be potentially fatal to either a human being or your career.… Do you, uh — do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” I said quickly, reaching inside myself for that elusive confidence. “But I want you to know, Mr. White, I’ll never let my fear interfere with my job. If I’m in a situation where contact is absolutely necessary, I can touch someone else. It — it isn’t that I’m incapable of doing it.… I have my reasons for not liking to touch people, and all I ask is that people who know me respect my wishes, sir.” I sat a little straighter and tried to act more self-confident. “But I can assure you, Mr. White, that if I learn the President of the United States wants to shake my hand, I won’t refuse him.”

Mr. White let out a small bark of laughter. “Your example’s a little ambitious, don’t you think, Kent?”

I gave him a tentative grin and ventured, “Just hopeful, sir.”

He laughed again and shook his head. But when his eyes returned to me, he frowned. “You aren’t sick, are you, son? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

I swallowed, disturbed that he had picked up on my paleness. “No, sir. I’m not sick.”

The Editor-in-Chief gave me a skeptical look and then said with a grunt, “Glad to hear that.”

My eyes fell on the portfolio in my lap, and I stood and handed it to him, muttering, “I, uh — I brought a portfolio with some examples of my work.”

“Ah, good, good,” he remarked as he opened the folder. He flipped through its contents with a practiced eye. He hadn’t reviewed much when one of his eyebrows began to rise and my high hopes began to plummet.

Finally, the newsroom legend commented, “Professor Carlton said you had intended to do a lot of traveling but never got around to it.”

“Yes, sir,” I confirmed. I hesitated before explaining a little further, “I had…personal reasons for staying closer to home.”

He nodded absently, and I wasn’t even sure if he’d heard what I said, for his eyes had moved back to the folder. At last, he looked up from my portfolio and stared straight at me. “From what I can tell, your writing’s not bad, Kent, but I generally don’t even consider someone with this kind of résumé.”

“I understand,” I murmured, dropping my eyes to the floor. It had been worth a try, at least. My mind immediately turned toward what I was going to do next, but my thoughts were scattered all over the place like birds in a flock dodging a thrown rock. I had no idea where to go from here, and I felt overwhelmed. I had focused all my energy on this interview.

Mr. White, sensing my preoccupation, cleared his throat. “That having been said, I trust Professor Carlton.”

My eyes shot up to his face. I didn’t even dare to breathe.

“But what’s more — he’s calling in a favor I owe him. You’ll find that’s what half of the newspaper business is about — calling in favors.” He shook his head. “It’s got its upsides and its downsides, but that’s how it is. Now, I’m going to hire you on a temporary basis, Kent. You prove yourself, and you’ll be brought on as a real employee. Just don’t disappoint me.” He smiled and stood.

I got to my feet. I was pretty sure I was beaming at him. “I won’t, sir.”

“Work starts tomorrow, Kent,” he told me gruffly. He moved once again to shake my hand but again snatched it back. “Uh, sorry, Kent.… It’ll take a while to get used to this.”

“That’s okay, sir,” I said in a quiet voice, hoping for the sake of my career that there wouldn’t be too many instances of his wanting to shake my hand — I had the feeling he would get annoyed with me fast if that were the case.

He waved his hand in the air. “Please — enough with all this ‘sir’ business. Call me ‘Chief’ — or ‘Perry.’ Everyone else here does.”

“Yes, sir,” I responded automatically. Wincing at the slip, I told him, “Sorry.… Thank you for everything. I promise you won’t regret this.”

He made some sort of dismissive grunt and returned to whatever it was he had been doing before I’d entered his office.

I opened the door and began to walk out when someone barreled into me. I stepped backward in surprise, and the person who’d run into me fell to the floor.

Chagrined, I moved to help the person — a woman — get to her feet, but then I quickly realized what I was doing and stopped. “S-sorry,” I mumbled.

She glared at me and picked herself up off the ground with more dignity than seemed possible given the awkwardness of the situation.

I moved out of the doorway and to the side so she could get through, and her annoyance was almost tangible as she brushed past me and shut herself in the small room with the Chief Editor. I could hear her demand, “Who was that guy?”

Wincing, I walked away from the door, not wanting to eavesdrop. Still, I couldn’t help but turn around and stare into the office at the animated woman inside.

I wasn’t sure who she was, but she was beautiful.

Though I wasn’t able to hear her words, I could see the fire in her eyes and her motions. Whenever she jerked her head, her brown hair did this amazing bouncing thing and then fell right back into place. Her brown eyes were like pools a man could easily fall into, but her gray suit was of the “no-nonsense” and “business only” sort which would make many men wary of pursuing her.

Yes, she was beautiful. And she was professional. And she was furious…with me.

I shook my head and reflected, It’s just my luck to make an enemy at the paper before even being permanently hired.

Trying to ground myself, I put my hand on the lump that was my locket. I stifled a sigh and walked into the elevator. Pressing the button for the ground floor, I tried to focus on what had just happened before my brief run-in with that spitfire of a woman.

I had been hired — albeit temporarily — by the Daily Planet. My dream was looking as if it could become a reality. Seek, and ye shall find, I thought to myself with a smile.

After I exited the elevator, I walked outside the newspaper building and stared up at the globe once more. I was looking forward to seeing it every day.

My spirits high, I decided I would just walk around the city for a while until I found a place that seemed good for lunch. After that, I would return to my hotel room and call my folks. They were probably upset that I hadn’t talked to them the night before, and they would be waiting anxiously to hear from me.

I stopped at a crosswalk behind a mass of people waiting for the walk signal. The signal came on, and most of the people in the group sped ahead and crossed the street. Lost in thought, I trailed several yards behind an older woman with an armful of shopping bags and a mother pushing a stroller.

It was fortunate my professor had had such a connection, I reflected. Maybe it was unfortunate that I hadn’t been hired on my own merits, but I would prove myself in time and make certain the Planet’s Chief Editor never regretted taking me on.

At least, I hoped I would be able to prove myself. That was my goal, anyway.

I heard a noise and turned my head. A bus was rushing toward the two women and the stroller, apparently unable to stop.

“Run!” I shouted. The two women turned their heads and stared at the bus with deer-in-the-headlight expressions. The older woman dropped her groceries, and the mother clenched her stroller tighter. Both of them tried to run out of the way.

But they weren’t able to make it in time. The bus hit them straight on. I was helpless to stop it.

Moments after impact, I was yelling at the horrified onlookers, “Somebody call 911!”

As I ran toward the two women and the child, I briefly turned my gaze to look at the bus. It continued with its forward motion and showed no sign of slowing. But I couldn’t do anything to stop its path of destruction — not as I was.

One look at the baby was all it took for me to know he wasn’t alive. Feeling sickened, I next turned my attention to the pair of adults. The mother had been killed when the bus hit her, but the other woman was miraculously still alive.

I knelt beside the older woman, gently holding her hand and keeping my fingers on her wrist, praying she would survive. She was so badly hurt that I didn’t know what to do. With the man I’d helped the night before, it had seemed so simple: keep blood from coming out of his chest wound. But with her…I could do nothing. I was no paramedic. All I could offer was my presence, such as it was.

She opened her eyes and gave me a weak smile. “Thank you for…trying to save us,” she whispered. Her lashes fluttered briefly, and then her eyelids dropped.

Her pulse should have been throbbing beneath my fingers, but it was only a dull trickle. Looking at my watch and trying to count, I realized it was getting slower and slower. She was fading fast. Her breathing was getting ragged.

Though I was in the middle of the road and traffic was backing up and the horns of clueless drivers were blaring angrily, I stayed where I was. I waited with the woman until the emergency forces arrived too late to be of any real assistance.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I finally made it back to my hotel. After stumbling into the room, I went to the toilet and vomited.

***

That night, I readied myself to call my parents. I didn’t feel like talking to anybody, but I knew they would be worried about me.

After I called collect on the payphone, I waited for someone to answer and steeled myself for the inevitable barrage of questions. I loved my parents, but I sometimes wished they weren’t so concerned about me — it made it hard when I didn’t want to tell them things. Still, they meant well, and in the end I usually felt better after talking with them.

A familiar voice soon answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Clark!” she exclaimed. I could hear her say away from the receiver, “Jonathan, get on the phone! It’s Clark!” Then she returned to the telephone. “Clark, how are you doing? Did you get to Metropolis okay? We were worried when we didn’t hear from you yesterday.”

“I got to Metropolis fine,” I assured her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday — something came up.” I shifted in place uneasily. “I’m, uh, I’m calling from my hotel now.”

“How is your hotel room?” Mom asked. I could almost hear the wince in her voice.

“It’s — well.…”

Dad had picked up the phone, and he prompted, “It’s a dump, isn’t it?”

I smiled at his perceptiveness. “I guess that’s what you expected?”

“We’ve been to Metropolis before, Clark,” Mom pointed out. “We know how expensive it is there.”

“Well, I was thinking earlier that I was glad you couldn’t see it, Mom.”

“So, how was your interview, son?” Dad asked.

I sighed. “Well, I’ve only been hired on a temporary basis until I prove myself — but that’s a start, right?”

“That’s wonderful, Clark!” my mom exclaimed.

“I’m sure you’ll prove yourself soon enough,” commented Dad. “In the meantime, you could probably use some money. I’m going to wire you some cash.”

“Dad — that’s okay. I’ve saved up a bit of money. And before long, I’ll have a paycheck.” I was trying to sound excited — and really, I was glad to have a shot about being a permanent member of the Daily Planet — but I was drained by the events of the day. Mostly, I kept seeing that bus and replaying the scene in my mind. It had washed away all my former excitement.

“Clark, are you okay?” Mom pressed. “You sound tired.”

Of course, she would pick up on that. “Well, I am tired,” I admitted. “It’s been kind of a long night. Well, a long couple of nights.”

Sounding concerned, Dad asked, “What happened, son?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t been sure whether or not I would tell them about what had happened after I arrived in Metropolis, but maybe it was better that I not leave them completely in the dark. “Yesterday, I saved a man’s life — at least, I think I did. I’m not sure if the hospital was able to help him or not.”

“What do you mean, Clark?” Mom questioned. I could see her worried expression in my mind’s eye.

“A man was shot, and I called the ambulance for him — ” I hesitated.

Dad prompted, “And?”

“And I had to touch him to stop his bleeding.” I exhaled heavily. “I was scared — but he was going to die for sure if I didn’t do anything.”

“Honey, there is nothing to be scared of.”

“Yes, Mom, there is,” I said firmly.

Mom protested, “Clark, you know I’m glad you decided not to go encase yourself in a fortress in Antarctica, but — ”

“I’m tired,” I broke in. I knew if we talked for much longer I would be telling them about what had happened with that bus after my interview — and that was something I didn’t feel ready for. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“All right, son,” Dad said, sounding reluctant. “But I’m going to wire you some cash tomorrow.”

I hesitated. “Dad…thanks.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll pay you back — I promise.”

“Goodnight, Clark,” Mom said quietly.

“Thanks. I love you guys.”

“And we love you,” Mom returned.

After hanging up the phone, I pulled my shirt up over my head. My parents were too perceptive sometimes.

But I hadn’t been lying when I’d told them I was tired. Fatigue seemed to be dripping out of my bones.

I still kept thinking of that bus, of how maybe I could have stopped it…and of how those broken bodies had been lying there in the middle of the road.

A shadow was hanging over me. It was suffocating me, pressing in on me. I didn’t know if I would ever shed it. Time should have been on my side in that regard — but what if more bad things just kept happening? How would I be able to erase or surpass the darkness?

When I finally slipped into bed and then into sleep, the nightmares returned in full force.

***

Chapter 3: Soon, a Thousand Dreams will Start

Soon, a thousand dreams will start,

And romance will fill your heart.

— “My Desert Serenade”

***

The next day, I left the Hotel Apollo early and walked to work. The weather was pleasant, and there were a lot of demons chasing through my head that I wanted to clear out. Mostly, I wanted to forget the dreams I’d had.

My walk did me a lot of good, just as I’d hoped, but before I arrived at the Daily Planet, I found my attention drawn to something. There was a commotion around some rubble that had once been a building, and after a brief moment of hesitation, I decided to investigate.

Evidently, the building was a theater which was supposed to be demolished that day — but while the job had been started, it hadn’t been completed. Everything had come to a standstill, and there was an utter lack of energy surrounding the place. There were a lot of people limply holding signs protesting the destruction of the theater, and construction workers were standing around and looking solemn instead of actually working.

As I moved closer to the rubble, I heard someone crying, and I turned and saw an elderly woman with tears flowing freely down her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked her in a soft voice. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but my heart went out to her.

“No,” she whispered, trembling. “Someone heard screams after — after the wrecking ball…slammed into the theater.” She took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the tears kept falling as she continued. “The — the construction workers stopped, and someone ran inside, but.… Oh!” She wiped the moisture off her face with her hand and tucked her chin into her chest.

I waited, wishing I could embrace her, but knowing I couldn’t. Instead, I just looked at her sympathetically, helplessly. One sentence kept running through my mind like a strange mantra: There are so many tragedies in Metropolis.

She finally began talking again. “Bea — her name was Beatrice, but we always called her Bea — was buried beneath the rubble. I don’t — I don’t know why she was…inside.… I guess maybe she was…t-trying to say goodbye to the theater, but.…”

“Has someone called an ambulance?” I asked uneasily.

“We’re waiting for it, but…but I’m certain she is dead.” That started a fresh bout of crying. “Oh, Bea loved the theater.… She — she wouldn’t have m-minded dying with it.… But surely it — it wasn’t necessary for her to d — well.…”

I wished I had a handkerchief — wished I knew some way to comfort her. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t bring her friend back to life. Just like I couldn’t bring those people hit by the bus back to life.

Feeling helpless, I asked her a few more questions, and she began to brighten up somewhat as she told me about Beatrice’s life. It didn’t take long for it to become clear that Beatrice had been an amazing woman. My thoughts and prayers went to her, but it sounded to me as if she had probably gone to a better place.… But not even that could make me feel less somber. Death was always hard to take.

“Beatrice sounds like she was a wonderful person,” I said to the woman softly. I paused for a second and then ventured, “I’m a reporter for the Daily Planet. Do you — would you mind if I tried to write a story about Beatrice?”

The idea seemed to cheer her a little, and she told me, “I would enjoy it very much if her story could be told to the world. It — it would have made her smile.”

Giving the woman a sad smile of my own, I took down her contact information and asked a few more questions. Then I told her, “Thank you.”

She shook her head. “No. Thank you for helping me recall all those wonderful memories.”

I told her goodbye before glancing at the pile of rubble one more time. Then, after talking briefly to a few more people, I left to go to work.

***

When I got into the newsroom, I stood in front of the elevator for about two minutes. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do — somehow, I didn’t think Perry White would want a rookie in his office asking to be shown all the ropes. But I couldn’t exactly jump into the water without knowing where the water was.

My salvation quickly came in the form of a young man with dark hair who must have honed in on my hesitation.

“C.K., right?” he ventured as he approached with some papers in hand.

“Clark Kent, yes,” I returned, hoping I didn’t look too nervous.

“Ah — I thought that was what it was, but I wasn’t sure if Perry meant something like ‘Clermon Kent’ instead. You don’t generally see ‘Clark’ as a first name.… When Ferdinand was hired, Perry told me his name wrong, and I spent weeks calling him ‘Frank.’ When I was finally corrected, I had to listen to weeks of stuff like ‘To be Frank, Jimmy, how would I do that?’” He laughed. “So, uh, I guess that’s why I prefer to be cautious now.”

I smiled in understanding. “You’re right that ‘Clark’ usually isn’t a first name — it was actually my mother’s maiden name.”

“Well, you can call me ‘Jimmy Olsen,’” he noted with a grin. “There’s nothing unusual about my name. I’m just good ol’ Jimmy.”

“You can call me ‘C.K.’ if you’d like,” I offered.

“Thanks, C.K.,” he returned, looking pleased. “I think I will. The Chief told me to look out for you and show you around a bit. So, just come with me, and I’ll give you the grand tour.”

I gladly followed him on the short and roundabout journey to my desk as he pointed out a few things about the newsroom. Fortunately, it wasn’t a complicated setup (there were different sections, such as Sports, Entertainment, and Society, just like in the newspaper), and there were no cubicles, so there wasn’t a need for him to walk me around the whole newsroom for me to get an understanding of where things were.

He stopped his tour for a moment and informed me, “I got a few office supplies from the supply closet for you.” He pointed in the direction of the closet. “I know it can be a little overwhelming when you first get here.… It’s not exactly a welcoming pan of baked goods, but I guess it’s the newsroom equivalent.”

A mental image popped in my head of an apron-clad Jimmy approaching me with a pan lined with Post-Its and staplers, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks.”

“No problem, C.K.” He stopped in front of my desk. “Here it is.”

I rested my gaze on my new workstation. The desk had already been outfitted with a computer and phone, and there was also a Daily Planet mug with some pens and pencils in it. The drawers probably held a few more of the office supplies Jimmy had mentioned. But even without all those items, it just felt good to look at that desk and know it was mine, even if just for a short time.

Jimmy opened the top drawer and brought out an envelope, which he set on my desk. “This has your username and password for the computer in it, along with things like contact information. It’s a sort of newbie info packet.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking down at the object.

He reached inside the drawer and brought out something else. “This is your work beeper — custom issue for high-level Planet reporters and low-level gophers like me.” He grinned and set the item on the desk.

From the sound of it, Mr. White must have made frequent use of Jimmy’s pager. “Guess that means I’ll be able to contact you if I need to?” I ventured.

He nodded and lifted a qualifying finger. “Just don’t abuse your grunt privileges. My pager has been known to occasionally find its way underneath a pile of sound-muffling pillows.”

I smiled. “I’ll remember that.”

“That’s my desk over there if you need anything,” he informed me, nodding in the direction of his own workstation. “The Chief gave it to me two months ago. I used to be just a copy boy — and I still mostly do legwork — but I’ve helped Lois Lane out a lot, and I’m slowly making my way up in the world. I know my way around a computer, so if you ever need anything that requires a little, uh, ‘creative’ computer work, just ask.”

I took the pager and pocketed it. “Thanks again, Jimmy.”

“No problem, C.K.”

“Jimmy!” shouted a voice that sounded suspiciously like a rampaging Perry White’s.

Jimmy grimaced. “Sorry — I’ve got to go. The Chief bellows.” And then he scampered off as fast as he could without actually running.

I watched his departure with a small smile before moving to take off my jacket and sit at my desk. I remained motionless for a few seconds, just allowing myself to enjoy the heady feeling of being a reporter for the best newspaper on earth. It was hard to believe I was finally here like this.… True, the position wasn’t yet permanent, but I really hoped it would be soon. My dreams were on the cusp of becoming a reality.

Feeling more cheerful than I had all day, I picked up my “newbie info packet” and scanned the relevant bits. When I was done, I logged in to my computer. I knew it probably wouldn’t be too long before I was assigned a museum-opening piece or something similarly unexciting, so I wanted to jot down as much as I could about Beatrice and the Sarah Bernhardt Theater while I had the time. I had about a paragraph and a half done when someone came up behind me and put highly manicured fingernails on my shoulders.

My heart in my throat, I stiffened and said in a firm voice, “Please remove your hands.”

The nails gradually retracted, and my heart reluctantly descended to its proper place in my chest.

After taking a moment to compose myself, I turned my chair around with great apprehension.

Standing before me was a woman in an outfit that was definitely not work-appropriate. Her bearing, however, was filled with confidence, and I could see she felt she was in her element — even if her outfit was one that revealed more skin than it concealed.

Noticing my glance at her attire, she gave me a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin and put her hand out, presumably for me to kiss or perhaps to awkwardly shake. “The name’s Catherine Grant,” she said in a sultry voice.

I looked down at her hand briefly before returning my eyes to her face. “Ah, yes — of Cat’s Corner, right?” I was fighting the urge to gulp — I didn’t want her to think I was intimidated by her. Even if I was.

She moved closer to me to say something, but the motion increased my anxiety, and I told her, “Please don’t come any closer, Ms. Grant. I have a phobia of human touch.” Really, it wasn’t a true phobia, and it wasn’t that I was fearful of others touching me so much as I was of myself touching them — I doubted a person would hurt themselves by touching me unless they tried to hurt me — but I was quite fearful of what Catherine Grant might do to me (or try to make me do to her) if we didn’t set up boundaries right away.

She studied me for a moment before purring, “Please, call me Cat. And if you ever need anyone to…show you around the city, don’t be afraid to call me.” Under her breath — but loud enough that I was supposed to hear — she muttered, “I like a challenge.”

“Thank you, Cat,” I replied feebly, knowing I would never request her services in any capacity if I could help it.

As she stalked away, swaying in a way that must have frequently turned male eyes in the newsroom, I forced myself to calm down. Being around her was nerve-wracking, and I was beginning to think she would probably be the greatest threat I would come across while working for the Daily Planet.

I had written a few more paragraphs of my story about Beatrice when I realized there was a murmuring noise by the newsroom televisions. I didn’t know how long it had been going on, but I wasn’t sure how I’d missed it. Leaving my unfinished story with some reluctance, I stood and walked over behind Mr. White and Jimmy…and that woman whom I had made furious the day before by inadvertently knocking her to the ground. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at her, but I quickly forced my gaze back to the television.

The newscaster Carmen Alvarado was speaking. “We are all mourning the loss of Commander Laderman and the transport vehicle Messenger, which exploded this morning.”

It took all my effort to keep myself from gaping and making a startled exclamation. The Messenger had exploded this morning? How had I missed that?

The woman I had upset turned to the Editor-in-Chief. “I told you there was something to Platt’s story, Perry. I knew there was.”

Mr. White shook his head. “Now, Lois, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.… Just because this Platt fellow managed to predict this would happen doesn’t mean there’s a conspiracy to sabotage the whole space program.”

Lois — I found myself glad that I finally knew part of the woman’s name — gave him a grim look. “Maybe it doesn’t. But there are more than a hundred colonists going up in the next launch. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to just assume they’ll be all right despite what Platt said.”

The Chief Editor didn’t respond; he just soberly turned his eyes back to the television screen.

There was a new person on the screen whom a small caption identified as Dr. Antoinette Baines. “We do not know the cause of this terrible disaster,” she said in a voice so filled with tragedy that I almost found myself doubting her sincerity, “and we have been unable to find any link between this tragedy and the multitude of setbacks EPRAD has faced during the past year. But I can assure you we are doing all we can to investigate this horrific event.”

Carmen Alvarado came back on. “The fate of Space Station Prometheus is now uncertain. Will this internationally financed space laboratory be continued? The Congress of Nations is calling a special meeting to make that very decision. We are all holding our breaths as we await their ruling — but perhaps no one is as anxious as the colonists who have sacrificed so much in order to make the journey to the space station. Will the Congress of Nations decide that the peril of sending those colonists into space will outweigh the possible benefits? For updates, stay tuned to LTC News.”

I tuned out the rest of the program and stared blankly at the television sets for a few seconds as people began to disperse. I was feeling a bit heavy-hearted — that space station meant a lot to some people. What if the Congress of Nations decided to cancel the whole mission? It would be a let-down for more than just America.

Sighing, I went to get some coffee. Unfortunately, Lois was there first, an empty mug in her hand.

I hesitated and was about to turn away when she looked up and glared at me. Suddenly, I realized this was Lois Lane — the hard-hitting journalist whose writing style and exposés I had long admired. Seeing the anger she could pack into one glance made me realize just how she had been able to get all those exclusives. A part of me wanted to turn and run, but instead I held my ground.

I took in a deep breath, preparing to eat a little crow. “I want to apologize for what, uh, happened, Ms. Lane. I should have been watching where I was going.… “

Sounding grumpy but slightly appeased, she told me, “Perry told me about your ridiculous phobia. I get it.”

Her forwardness and her unfriendly nature both intrigued and annoyed me, and I watched in perturbation as she took a sip of coffee and then began to walk away without even a backward glance.

Unable to help myself, I muttered with bitter sarcasm, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you, Ms. Lane.”

She heard me — much to my mortification — and froze. Then she turned around and gave me an appraising look. Either I’d impressed her, or she wanted to learn more about me before she attempted to squash me beneath her heel. My money was on the latter.

“What’s your name again?” she asked me.

“Clark Kent,” I answered tightly.

“Very well, Clark,” she said, using my name as an epithet, “call me ‘Lois.’ ‘Ms. Lane’ is my mother.”

“Fine, Lois,” I said in a low and scathing tone as she went in the direction of Mr. White’s office. But I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me, and I rather hoped she hadn’t. I was acting childishly, and it was embarrassing. I wasn’t certain why she was bringing out that side of me, but she was. I was normally a lot more mild-mannered.

I finished preparing my coffee and retreated to my desk, feeling somehow like a dog that had been yelled at for getting into the trash. I had only written a little more of my article when I sensed something distinctly tornado-like. Looking up, I saw Lois Lane walking away from the Editor-in-Chief’s office and appearing incredibly aggravated.

I heard someone say, “Watch out — the Ice Queen cometh,” and I turned back to my work with an irritated frown.

I realized a moment later that Lois had stopped at my desk. Lifting my head, I took in her sour expression. “Can I…help you?”

She wasted no time in barking orders. “Grab your coat, farmboy. We’re going to go talk to Samuel Platt.” And then, again just like a tornado but without the spinning, she began zipping away from my desk. I hastily grabbed my jacket and jogged to catch up with her at the elevator, which was opening as I approached.

We walked inside after a couple of people stepped out, and I queried, “Samuel Platt?”

“He used to be a scientist at EPRAD. Somehow, he knew the Messenger was going to be sabotaged. We need to go find out what he knows.” She turned toward me sharply. “Any more questions, Kent?”

The elevator doors closed, and I crossed my arms and suppressed a sigh. “Weren’t you going to call me ‘Clark’?”

“I’ll call you ‘Mr. Green Jeans’ if I want to. It’s a perk of seniority.”

Her hostility puzzled me. I had apologized for knocking her to the ground — she wasn’t still upset about that, was she?

“Have I offended you somehow?” I asked her with a frown.

“Your presence here offends me,” she shot off. “Most of us have to work our way up in the reporter world. I’ve done that, yet Perry nonetheless chose to pair me with a hack from Nowheresville.”

My mouth became a thin line. “I assure you, I’m going to pull my own weight, Ms. Lane — ”

The elevator doors opened. The whirlwind of a woman strode out ahead of me and then suddenly paused. Her shoulders were tense, and I could sense the reluctance which had a grip on her. Finally, she turned toward me.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kent.… “ She must have seen the flash of irritation in my eyes, for she quickly corrected, “Clark.” She sighed and clutched her purse tighter to herself. “I’m just upset about the Messenger. If I had paid more attention to my instincts when Platt came in, maybe Commander Laderman wouldn’t have died.”

It was her sincerity that banished my anger. In her eyes shined the grief and despair of a woman who believed she had failed others. I realized then that the bluster and bravado I’d been seeing were actually masking her compassion. It was a man’s world, and it must have been hard for her to get to where she was. I had to remember that.

Quietly, I told her, “You couldn’t have known he was telling the truth — this is something big and unexpected. What happened to the Messenger was probably something that wouldn’t normally be missed in routine inspections. Mr. White might have been skeptical about forming a conspiracy theory…but if you think there’s a chance someone is after the space program, then I do, too.” I gave her a small smile as a peace offering.

Her facial expression softened, and she seemed to be lowering her defenses. But just as soon as they were down, they shot back up.

In a voice shaped by annoyance, she told me, “Look, farmboy — I live by three rules. I never get involved with my stories, I never let anyone else get to a story first, and I never get involved with anyone I work with. So, if you’re looking for a little woman to hang on your arm, you can just forget it.” She turned away from me.

Resisting the temptation to tell her that I shied from human touch and that my smile had been aiming at friendliness rather than charm, I replied instead, “I’m glad those are rules you live by, Lois.” She swiveled to stare at me with suspicion, and I added, “Because they’re rules I live by, too.”

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered under her breath. She nodded in the direction of the Planet’s main entrance. “Now, let’s go.”

As I followed her, I shook my head at myself. I was getting more ridiculous by the second. “Because they’re rules I live by, too,” huh?

I could see I was going to have to make certain I had a better arsenal of comebacks for dealing with Lois Lane.

I definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

***

Chapter 4: The Boss

Some folks like to be the boss;

They get up on their high horse.

— “Sound Advice”

***

With the efficiency of someone who didn’t want to waste even a second out of the day, Lois directed our taxi to Platt’s address. Then, before I knew it, I was climbing out of the cab after her as she briskly moved toward Platt’s chosen residence. As I reached the sidewalk, I nodded and smiled as a woman passed by walking a bulldog. I’d always been partial to animals, and the dog looked suitably grumpy for a specimen of his breed. I’d had bigger dogs growing up on the farm in Smallville, but I liked smaller dogs just as much.

However, as I looked at the building that was our destination, my mood changed, and I couldn’t help but give Lois a skeptical look. “This is where Dr. Platt lives?” The brick building didn’t really look inhabitable.

“Yeah, well, I guess Platt’s seen better days,” she returned. She opened the building’s green door, ducking under some badly placed police tape to get inside.

Stepping in behind her, I made certain to mask my smirk when I saw her recoil just perceptibly as a plump rat trotted by. She glanced back at me to see if I’d seen her revulsion, and I hastily averted my eyes to the door I was closing.

Lois walked past some barrels and approached the door that was presumably Dr. Platt’s. A sign on it proclaimed:

THIS BUILDING IS UNSAFE

DO NOT ENTER

UNDER ORDER OF METROPOLIS BUILDING & SAFETY

Ignoring the sign, Lois rapped on the door. “Dr. Platt?” she asked loudly. Not receiving an answer, she repeated the name.

“Yes? Who — who is it?” a shaky voice queried at last.

“It’s Lois Lane,” she answered, looking back at me.

He opened the door a few inches and peered out in fear, only his nose and his eyes and part of his clothes visible. “Who — who’s that with you?”

She hesitated. “My…colleague, Clark Kent. We’re working on this story together.”

I bit back a response about the word “colleague,” as Platt’s frightened eyes were moving to my face. I hastened to give him a look that was reassuring but not pressuring. It must have worked, as he finally opened the door and gestured for us to come inside. As we entered, I noticed he was holding a crowbar. It wouldn’t have protected him against a skilled criminal, but I supposed it would have done all right against a common thug.

Lois began talking almost immediately. “We’re here to learn more about the Messenger, Dr. Platt. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”

He nodded, obviously nervous. “I don’t blame you, Ms. Lane. They called me crazy — and maybe I have been. But that was all on account of the drugs, you see.”

“Drugs?” Lois echoed in surprise.

“Yes, the drugs,” he confirmed as he led us forward. “They drugged me, you know, after I submitted my report on the Messenger to Dr. Baines.”

I glanced around as Lois went to the center of the room. The place was in total disarray. Only the books — which were crammed into shelves — seemed to have been placed in a logical spot. Well, the books and some of the items on Platt’s desk. As I wandered around, I saw that many of the objects in the room pointed to Platt as being eccentric, if not a bit unhinged: the fake camel head on a stick which was hung up on a coat-rack, the bright blue marlin mounted on the wall, the bird skeleton resting on the television.…

“And what did you say in this report?” Lois asked.

“When I broke into one of the off-limit labs, I discovered something. You see, the Messenger’s particle isolators were in danger of shutting down under extreme temperatures, and so we had installed heating devices as a countermeasure.… But I found out in the lab that the heating devices were no longer there. They had been replaced…by coolant systems.”

I turned to look at him with a frown, unable to help myself. “That would freeze the ion particles, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would!” he told me, sounding excited that I had understood. “And then fumes would be emitted, and the Messenger would blow up — I said all of this in my report.”

“Do you have a copy of that report?” Lois asked.

“Yes, yes, I do. It’s…hmm.…” He moved to the bookshelves and began searching for something.

As Dr. Platt pulled out first some crumpled sheets of paper from on top of some books, then a few from behind the fish, and then a couple from a tennis shoe in a box, I realized we could be waiting for a while for him to gather all the pieces of his report. Lois’s thoughts seemed to parallel mine, as the look she gave me seemed to say, “Is he for real?”

Sighing, she said out loud to Dr. Platt, “Maybe you could get us your report later — we can have someone come by and get it tomorrow.” I saw her turn her attention to a frame on Platt’s desk. She picked up a photograph that had been nestled in the corner of the frame. Curious, I moved forward to get a better view. It was a picture of three happy people: a chuckling girl in a wheelchair, a laughing woman with red hair, and a smiling man who just barely resembled Dr. Platt.

The scientist scampered over and took the photograph from her with a trembling hand, placing it back in its former position. “That’s my wife…and our daughter Amy.” He took in a deep breath and told us quietly, “We had planned to live together on the Prometheus.”

“Where are they now?” Lois queried.

“My wife died over a year ago of cancer,” he responded in a voice so quiet I had to strain to hear it.

“And Amy?” Lois ventured with unusual gentleness.

“She’s with my sister. It is…for the best.”

I could hear the sympathy in Lois’s voice when she asked, “Who would want to sabotage the space station, Dr. Platt?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Ms. Lane. I can’t understand it — you see, the Prometheus’s microgravity laboratory could be the key to helping us cure hundreds of diseases. A zero-gravity environment would enable us to separate the proteins which form viruses — and then, well…then we could help so many people with crippling diseases.… “ So softly I had to strain to hear it, he added, “We could cure my daughter.”

His voice sounded choked up, and I thought that if I looked at him I might be able to see tears in his eyes.

But I didn’t want to look, as my heart was already heavy enough. How could someone be so heartless as to attempt to sabotage such a noble cause? What was to gain from it? It wasn’t fair that a man like Dr. Platt had to attempt to ward off such evil alone. Dr. Platt had only his drug-addled brains and a simple crowbar to protect himself from whatever powerful people were attempting to do this terrible thing. It just wasn’t right.

“Dr. Platt,” I said suddenly, “I don’t think you should be here anymore.”

“What?” he said in confusion, turning toward me.

“If there is a conspiracy, then this is really big. I don’t think you’re safe here. If Lois and I were able to find you, someone else certainly could. You can’t stay here and defend yourself with just a crowbar.”

“My partner’s probably right, Dr. Platt,” Lois admitted, and I turned to her in surprise — I had never thought I would hear an admission of my correctness coming from her lips. Begrudgingly, she added, “You’re probably in danger just for talking to us.… Quite frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t killed you already.”

But Platt shook his head. “I can’t leave. They will get me if I leave — they have eyes everywhere. My books, my notes…everything I have left is here.”

“I can help you move your things, Dr. Platt — ” I tried.

“No, no, no. That will take too much time — it will attract too much attention. Just conduct your investigation — and I will do what I can.”

I stared at him, knowing I should argue with him. He’d been through so much that he couldn’t be thinking rationally. But there was such resolution in his eyes that I could only bring myself to make one last try: “You don’t have to be a martyr, Dr. Platt — ”

“Go, Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane. I will gather my report and await your messenger.… Tell them the password is…’Amy.’” He turned away so we couldn’t see his face, and he began gathering more pieces of his report with trembling hands.

After watching him for a few seconds, Lois looked at me grimly. “We should probably go and see Dr. Baines and ask her about this report.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, giving the scientist one last sad look. I didn’t like leaving him, but I couldn’t just stay and babysit him. I could argue that he shouldn’t be foolish — that he wouldn’t want to orphan his daughter. But I couldn’t do that to him. Not when I knew that the thought of his daughter being an orphan would hurt him so much.

***

At EPRAD, we received visitor tags and were taken to Dr. Antoinette Baines, who seemed to be caught up in the middle of something. Whether she was actually busy or putting on a show, I wasn’t exactly sure.

Dr. Baines was an attractive enough woman, but there was something cold about her. Her short blonde hair framed her face in a manner that should have softened it — but something in her tone and her eyes belied whatever kindness she tried to project. All I knew was that she gave me a bad feeling.

“We’re all in a state of shock,” she told us in a voice that attempted — but failed — to be sincere. “This explosion was such a catastrophe.… And Captain Laderman was one of our best men. His three children and his wife are quite heartbroken.… “

“And what’s being done to investigate the reason for the explosion, Dr. Baines?” Lois pushed. She appeared annoyed at the false sorrow in the other woman’s voice, and I knew exactly what she was feeling.

“I can assure you, Ms. Lane, we will do all we can. But we can’t know anything for certain until we are able to look at the wreckage. It’s being moved to a hangar right now for analysis.”

“Can we see it?”

Dr. Baines shook her head. “I’m sorry. Press aren’t allowed.”

Disappointed, I pressed with a hopeful tone, “No exceptions?”

She gave me the once-over and reconsidered. With a small smile, she told me, “I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Kent.”

“That’s great,” I replied, smiling at her warmly, though internally I felt a little disgusted with myself for attempting to use charm to get help from the woman.

She turned and found a file, picking it up and flipping through a few pages. “When I heard you were coming, I took out Dr. Platt’s file. It really is a shame he wasted his talent as he did. His wife’s death and his fanatical work on the space station both seemed to really get to him. It wasn’t long before he took a turn for the worse — he started drinking, taking drugs, acting violently.… He had given us so many years of hard work that we tried to hold on to him for as long as we could, but we had to let him go when he burned down one of our laboratories. We recommended that he seek help, but he was just too far gone.” She replaced the file, indicating she considered the subject closed.

But Lois wasn’t one to give up so easily. “Dr. Platt told us he submitted a report to you. It was about coolant systems that — ”

“Coolant systems?” echoed Dr. Baines. Her brow furrowed in thought. “No, I don’t remember a report from him about that.” She tilted her head. “If you’d like, I could look at my records.… “

“Please do,” Lois said curtly. “And then call us.” She dug out a business card from her purse and handed it to Dr. Baines.

“I’ll do that,” Dr. Baines promised. She turned her gaze to me, eyeing me like a piece of candy. Softly, she told me, “Please, let me know if I can do anything else to help you.… It would be my pleasure.”

Trying to hide my discomfort, I replied with a smile, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” she returned in a low voice.

As Lois and I walked to the van, I commented flatly, “I don’t like her.”

Lois stopped and looked at me. “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”

“What?” I frowned.

“Well, while you were batting your eyes at her, I was the one trying to get information.”

“I was not batting my eyes at her,” I protested. “I just thought…maybe a little friendliness might get us what we needed.”

She studied me for a moment before she began walking again. “Offering yourself in return for a story, Kent?”

“Is that something you’ve never done before, Ms. Lane?” I retorted.

She smirked. “Maybe being partnered with you isn’t so bad, farmboy. Just make sure you don’t step on my toes.”

“I won’t — so long as you don’t walk all over me,” I responded darkly.

“Sorry — I never make promises to partners I don’t intend to keep.”

I bit back a reply, not wanting to show her just how much she could irk me. I’d never let people with chips on their shoulders affect me this much — why was she any different?

Well, whatever it was, I was glad our partnership was only temporary. Even if she was a brilliant reporter…and a beautiful woman.

***

When we returned to the Planet, Lois assigned Jimmy and me some legwork tasks, leaving the more promising parts for herself (of course). Before I got to work, however, I finished my article on Beatrice and the Sarah Bernhardt Theater. After submitting the piece, I made a few calls and then began looking through my notes on the Messenger and Dr. Platt.

I was concentrating hard on a piece of paper when my eyes felt a little strange. Lurching back in alarm, I realized I needed to disappear for a few minutes.

I looked over at Lois, who was calling some of Platt’s associates. She seemed busy enough — phone in one hand and pencil in the other — that hopefully she wouldn’t notice my trip to the restroom was an abnormally long one.

I passed Jimmy, who was slowly walking and reading a sheet of paper, and disappeared into the men’s bathroom. I entered one of the stalls and closed the door carefully. Looking behind me at the discolored toilet seat, I decided I didn’t want to sit on it. It was going to be difficult to stand, but I was going to make the attempt.

Coaxing my locket out from underneath my shirt, I clutched it in my hand briefly before opening it and letting it drop down to rest against my tie.

My immediate instinct was to sit, but as I clenched my head and shut my eyes, I fought to remain upright. Finally, I braced myself against the stall, using it as support. I tried to think about the picture nestled in the locket. I always attempted to think of happier things whenever I exposed that photograph to the world. But I usually couldn’t think of anything beyond what happened when I opened that locket.

Waves of pain were wracking my body and pounding at my head like a million merciless hammers. My pain increased as the seconds ticked by, but still I didn’t close the locket. I needed to wait long enough to ensure I was stripped of all my powers for a while.

When I was almost to the point where I would have to sink to the floor, I fumbled with the locket and shut it with a low groan. The locket was coated with lead paint, so closing it made the pain disappear. Now the shard of meteor rock hidden behind the picture in my locket could no longer hurt me, but I still didn’t feel good.

Breathing heavily, I rested my forehead against the stall door. This wasn’t going to work — I couldn’t neglect exposing myself to the glowing stone before leaving for work as I had today. I had thought I was so drained by the previous day that I wouldn’t need any exposure. But I’d obviously been wrong — my powers had started to return.

A part of me wondered if I might slowly be building up an immunity, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to test that theory. If it were true, then I might need to completely change my lifestyle one day…and I didn’t want to consider that yet. As it was, I refused to touch people as a precaution — in case my powers came back unexpectedly. Predicting my body’s fluctuations wasn’t an exact science for me.

I felt so weak I wasn’t sure I could make it to my desk. If I disappeared for an hour, though, Lois might come looking for me. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her to barge into the men’s restroom if someone told her that was where I went.… And I did not want to have to declare bowel problems to be the cause of my extended absence.

I opened the stall door and feebly washed my hands, splashing some water onto my face. After toweling my hands and face down, I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. As I walked through the newsroom and came close to Lois’s desk, I couldn’t help but overhear her involved in an unhappy personal phone conversation.

I didn’t have the energy or inclination to eavesdrop, though, so I just sank into my chair, drained by the meteorite.

But I didn’t want to arouse suspicions of laziness, so I forced myself after a few seconds to pick up some notes and pretend to study them as the throbbing in my head began to pass away.

A few minutes later, Lois came up to my desk. I was actually able to concentrate by that point, and so I was working on getting a few things done. When I sensed her presence, however, I turned my attention to her. “Yes?”

She looked at my shirt in interest, and I paled as I realized I had left my locket out. Fumbling, I quickly tucked it inside my shirt, but not before she had quipped, “Nice locket. Is that some kind of weird farmboy tradition, wearing girls’ jewelry?”

Gritting my teeth and knowing the jab wasn’t exactly undeserved, I told her, “It was my grandmother’s.”

“Oh.” She didn’t seem to know what to think, and part of me wondered if I should have been proud that I had brought her to the point of speechlessness.

I could have just left it at that, but I didn’t. “Not that you care, but I was close to her until she died when I was ten.… Her picture is inside it.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you, Kent.” Her voice sounded surprisingly sincere.

“Clark,” I prompted with a sigh.

“Clark,” she echoed absently. Staring at me in a pensive manner, she asked, “So, do you have big plans for tonight?”

Wary, I replied, “Not especially.”

“Well, you know, the White Orchid Ball is tonight.… “

I hid a smile behind a hand. “Hmm, really? I hadn’t realized that.”

She looked at me as if I had grown another head. “You do know that this is the big social event of the season, don’t you?”

“I guess I’m just not a celebrity columnist,” I commented with a shrug.

“Well, some of us apparently care more about our social lives than others,” she muttered.

I suppressed a snort. Somehow, I doubted someone as work-driven as Lois had the type of active social life she was implying was hers. Investigative journalism was a lot of work — there wasn’t exactly an abundance of free time. Criminals didn’t just stop being criminals on the weekends.

“And at the ball, I intend to talk to Lex Luthor and land the first one-on-one interview with him if it kills me,” she proclaimed.

“I’m glad to hear it.” I put my chin on my hand. “Now, what does that have to do with me?”

She began to look awkward, and I found myself enjoying her discomfort. “Well, it’s my date, Mitchell.… See — he has the sniffles.…”

“How tragic,” I remarked, my voice equal parts sarcasm and sympathy.

She glared at me. “I can’t go alone.…”

I nodded in mock-understanding. “That would be equally tragic.”

Furious at my deliberate obtuseness, she turned away, but then she swiveled back to face me. “Look, farmboy, do you have a tux or not?”

“I bet I could get my hands on one,” I mused.

“Then are you going to this ball with me or not?”

“I couldn’t dance with you,” I pointed out.

“Farmboy, you are flattering yourself if you think I want to dance with you. I just need someone to go with me. Now, are you going to come?”

I looked at her in amusement. “So, will it be a date?” I wasn’t serious, but I didn’t want to make this easy on her.

“No, it won’t be a date,” she growled. “It will be strictly business.”

I gave her a reluctant look. “Business outside of work hours? Gee, I don’t know, Lois.… I think maybe I’ll just stay in and read a good book.”

Her rage escalated, and she spewed a few unintelligible tidbits before finally managing, “Fine. You can call it a pig dance party if that’ll make you happy, but — ”

I broke in, “In that case, I accept.”

She opened her mouth to make a retort, realized I wasn’t arguing any more, and then changed what she was going to say to: “Good. Then I’ll meet you there.” She started to walk away but then abruptly turned back to me. “At 9. Sharp.”

I nodded, my eyebrows raised in acknowledgement.

“All right,” she said as she went to her desk, still sounding surprised I had suddenly given in so easily.

I smirked to myself. I was obviously getting better at dealing with Lois Lane, and it pleased me that I was going to be able to stand on my own two feet with her at least some of the time. It was kind of important if I didn’t want to feel two inches tall in her presence.

As I flipped through the pages of a phonebook in search of a tuxedo rental place, I reflected on how this constant bickering with Lois Lane wasn’t a good thing if it could make me impulsively agree to go to a ball. I hated social situations; they made me nervous. There were always too many hands that needed shaking. Well…at least these high-society types usually weren’t as keen on shaking hands as people in smaller towns (assuming I even got to talk to any of them). Still, regardless of whatever happened, I would probably be a wreck all night.

I looked down at the phonebook. It was tempting to tell Lois I couldn’t find a place to rent a tuxedo — to say they had all been closed. But if I stood her up like that, she might phone all the tuxedo rental places and find out their hours; after all, probably at least one of them was open late on big social nights like tonight.…

And then I would have to face the wrath of Lois Lane for the rest of my Daily Planet career. Yeah, because that sounded pleasant.

I just had to suck it up and go.

It wasn’t because she was already the boss of me. It was because I didn’t want to make things awkward in the newsroom.

At least, that was what I was going to tell myself.

***

Chapter 5: A Long, Lonely Highway

It’s a long, lonely highway when you’re travelin’ all alone,

And it’s a mean old world when you got no one to call your own.

— “(It’s a) Long, Lonely Highway”

***

The White Orchid Ball was hosted at Luthor’s home, the tallest building in Metropolis. Unfortunately, it was hard to appreciate the grandeur of the building since it was pouring down rain, and I found myself constantly distracted by the flurry of people in raingear coming in and out of the building.

I stood under the awning — dressed in the tuxedo I’d paid a significant amount of precious money to rent — and waited for Lois. When she finally did arrive in a cab, she was wearing a long raincoat and a hat and carrying a giant black umbrella.

She barely even acknowledged my presence as she walked up, saying only, “Go ahead to the ballroom. I need to visit the ladies’ room to freshen up.”

I followed her inside, annoyed with myself. Had I expected her to just hang out with me the whole evening? I was more her social tool than an actual date. She had more than made that clear.

A few minutes later, I was in the ballroom, feeling as if I stuck out like a sore thumb. I began to get antsy at the thought of meandering among the throngs of rich and famous people by myself the whole night, but then I saw Jimmy and gave a low sigh of relief.

I hurried over to him, and he greeted cheerfully, “Hey, C.K.”

“Hi, Jimmy.… Boy, Lex Luthor certainly likes to put on a show,” I commented as I gazed around at the extravagance present in the ballroom. There was enough to impress, but not so much that it seemed distasteful. There was no telling how many decorators Luthor had hired to create this effect of luxury in his penthouse.

“That he does,” Jimmy agreed. “I’ve never met him, but I’ve read all his unauthorized autobiographies. The man practically owns Metropolis. He’s one of the richest men in the world, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“He seems like a fascinating person, but he doesn’t give private interviews — just the occasional press release and things like that. Lois plans to get the first personal interview with him.”

I nodded in amusement. “She did tell me that.”

“She’s been after it for a while. But she just keeps getting calls back from one of his secretaries — when she gets a response at all.”

“I’m sure she’ll get what she wants soon enough,” I remarked.

Jimmy nodded in agreement. “She’s nothing if not persistent. You don’t stand between Lois Lane and what she wants — not if you want to keep breathing.”

“I can believe that,” I said with a chuckle. I knew I certainly wouldn’t want to hinder Lois from getting something she wanted. I hadn’t known her long, and I already knew that such a move was borderline suicidal.

“Hey, look,” Jimmy said, making a slight gesture, “there he is.”

My eyes lifted to focus on where he had pointed. Lex Luthor was beginning to descend the great staircase. I saw first his Italian leather shoes and then a suit of equally impressive quality. As his face came into view, his profile was suddenly highlighted by a flash of lightning from the window behind him. When my vision cleared, my jaw fell slightly in surprise. I recognized him.

He was moving very slowly, but apart from the carefulness of his movements, no one could have guessed he had been almost fatally wounded by a bullet a few days before. The look of pain he had worn when I first met him was utterly different from the cool confidence which now radiated from his person.

I hadn’t realized I had saved the life of the richest man in Metropolis. The knowledge of it stunned me…and brought up a whole host of questions which would probably never be answered.

It took him longer to descend than was probably normal, but he managed to do it with the utmost grace, and no one seemed to notice anything unusual in his bearing. He was the perfect picture of a wealthy and hospitable host, moving from person to person, greeting this man and that woman, noticing everyone he was supposed to. He was talking good-naturedly with a man I thought was a United States senator when Lois Lane’s voice carried through the room to him:

“Lex Luthor…Why have you not returned any of my calls?”

He turned to look at Lois, as did I. She stood several feet away from him with an air of expectance, a mysteriously beautiful woman who drew the eyes of others toward her. I had to force my own gaze away as she and Luthor talked in lower voices to each other. She’d certainly captured the rich man’s attention. I had a feeling that the low murmur that had spread throughout the room concerned primarily who she was and what she wanted. And since she had wanted to be recognized, at least part of her plan involving Lex Luthor was working.

Jimmy continued watching their interactions and commented with a smile, “Man, Lois sure is something, huh?”

I made a vague grunt of agreement, trying to find something else of interest in the room, but my eyes soon returned to her. She was now dancing with the wealthy man. I wasn’t sure why, but it killed me to see her dancing with him. I wanted to break in, but I couldn’t — and shouldn’t — for a variety of reasons. I tried telling myself she was a viper, concerned only with stories and never with people, but I knew that wasn’t true. And so, I kept staring at her. She was a vision in blue.… And I wanted to move that little strand of hair in her eye to behind her ear.…

She laughed at something Luthor said, and he did something to her neck that was suspiciously like nuzzling. Suddenly feeling sick, I turned away. Jimmy had been sidetracked by a young woman with red hair, and he was talking to her in an animated fashion. I gave a small smile of encouragement to him as he waved, and then I returned my gaze to Lois yet again. She and Luthor were parting — after all, he had several rich and important guests to tend to — and I walked up to her.

“Did you get your interview?”

She turned to me, looking surprised at the vitriol in my voice. I hadn’t meant to sound so bitter; it had just come out that way.

“Something like that,” she answered vaguely as she began walking away from me.

“Where are you going?” I asked, following her persistently.

She entered a room that was obviously supposed to be off-limits to guests, and within moments she was snooping through Luthor’s things. The room appeared to be a private study, complete with an expensive-looking desk, lots of dark leather furniture, and several obviously priceless items that belonged more in a museum than a home.

“Lois, we aren’t supposed to be in here,” I hissed.

“It’s called being a reporter, farmboy,” she retorted. “Am I wrong, or isn’t that what Perry hired you to be? Look around and see if you can find anything. Or at least stand guard.”

As she disappeared into an adjoining room, I shook my head in annoyance. She didn’t seem to have any sense of boundaries. That was probably part of what made her such a good journalist.

Still, I had no intention of personally pawing through Luthor’s things, so I just walked past the burning fireplace and over to a group of weapons set against the wall. It was an impressive collection, and I imagined it was not even the tip of the iceberg when it came to what Lex Luthor had accumulated.

I was admiring a sword when a voice inquired from behind me, “Are you a fan of ancient weapons?”

I forced myself to turn with agonizing slowness, not wanting to seem overtly guilty, and I found Lex Luthor looking at me expectantly. His question seemed innocent enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something menacing hidden beneath that smooth façade of his.

“I particularly like the Macedonian sword,” I commented. Despite my attempt at coolness, my heart was pounding.

Luthor inclined his head. “It was the weapon Alexander the Great used to defeat Darius III.”

“Thus leading to his being proclaimed King of Asia,” I said smoothly, glad I hadn’t commented on the crossbow instead. “An important weapon, then.”

He gave me a tight smile. “Important indeed.” He appeared to be reevaluating me — apparently, my knowledge of history surprised him.

Lois came up to us — presumably to either save me from the big bad billionaire or make sure I didn’t jeopardize her chances of getting an interview with said billionaire — and remarked, “We were just admiring your home, Lex. It really is beautiful here.”

Luthor raised an eyebrow and looked at me. Apparently, he hadn’t known we were together. Personally, I found myself irked that Lois already felt comfortable enough with him to call him by his first name. She wasn’t so keen on doing that with me.

Seeing the wealthy man’s expression, Lois suddenly said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Lex.… I don’t believe you two have met. Lex, this is Clark Kent, a new hire at the Daily Planet.”

Luthor’s eyes widened with recognition at my name. “Clark Kent? Why, you could have just asked for a guided tour, all things considered.”

I smiled uneasily, feeling awkward. My discomfort increased when I noticed him carefully studying me. I felt like a lab rat trapped in a cage.

“But please,” Luthor said a few seconds later, taking his eyes off me, “let us return. I have some news that I think will interest the both of you.” He gestured us forward, and we returned to the party.

***

Lex Luthor’s announcement that he would be building a space station named after himself (like most of the other major companies in the city) was just as impressive as he intended it to be. Lois seemed especially enthralled.

“That hologram was just amazing,” she remarked afterward. We were still standing close to where the image of Space Station Luthor had been, though most people had returned to mingling. “That’s very kind of Lex to offer to take up the space station program like that. A lot of people have been counting on it.”

I gave a noncommittal grunt. I was torn on the issue. She was right that Lex’s announcement could mean good news for people like Platt’s daughter, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not how it was supposed to be. Part of the point of the space station was that it was an international endeavor.… And I felt as if the idea for creating this space station should have taken a lot more time for Lex Luthor to generate. Were holograms that easy to create? Or had he just made some of his people work fanatically on the project to have it ready in time for the ball?

“Why a guided tour?” Lois asked abruptly.

I blinked at her, wondering at the non sequitur. Finally, I realized what she meant. “You’re talking about what Lex Luthor said?”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding annoyed. “Why did he say you could ask for a guided tour?”

I shrugged. I briefly considered whether I could hide the truth from her before deciding I might as well tell her. “I saved his life the other day,” I said, trying to sound offhanded.

She looked at me skeptically. “You saved the life of the richest man in Metropolis?”

I nodded, searching the room desperately for something to comment on. A vase looked promising, but I didn’t have enough time to formulate a sentence about it before Lois was speaking again.

“Why wasn’t it in the paper?” she demanded.

I winced. “Well, I wasn’t hired by the Planet at the time, and I didn’t know who he was anyway. I guess somehow he managed to keep it out of the press.”

“What exactly happened?” she asked suspiciously.

“He got shot,” I murmured.

Lois crossed her arms and gaped at me. “In Tinytown, news might be the latest downpour of rain, but here in the big city, the fact that Lex Luthor got shot is big news.”

“It’s old news,” I returned. “It happened two days ago. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for the Planet to publish something like this a few days after it happened? And besides, I think Luthor’s space station announcement is going to be getting all the publicity right now — him getting shot days ago probably won’t even make people blink an eye.”

She stared hard at me, primed to argue just for the sake of not agreeing with me, but finally, she gave a curt nod. “All right, Kent. But next time, don’t be so sloppy.” Then she muttered something about finding the powder room and disappeared.

I sighed. Well, it could have gone worse.

***

It was well past midnight when Lois finally informed me I was free to leave my post as her indentured lackey. After telling her in a voice dripping with sarcasm that she was just “too kind” to release me like that, I left Lex Towers and returned to the Hotel Apollo. After the briefest of hesitations, I picked up the phone and dialed my parents’ number. It was late, so I knew they wouldn’t be awake, but I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep unless I talked to them.

“Hello?” came my mother’s groggy voice.

“Hi, Mom,” I murmured.

She was instantly alert. “Clark? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. Well…kinda.”

My father picked up the other phone. “You all right, son?”

“I just got back from the White Orchid Ball,” I said awkwardly.

“Did it go okay?” Mom queried. She knew perfectly well that balls weren’t up my alley.

“I did learn something.… You know that man I saved?”

“Yeah,” grunted Dad.

“Well…it turns out it was Lex Luthor.”

“The Lex Luthor?” asked my mother in surprise.

Though they couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Uh huh. I don’t know why, but he makes me really uncomfortable.”

“Well, he’s probably done a lot of questionable things on his way to the top,” Dad noted. “I’d be careful, son.”

“I will.” I paused in hesitation. “There’s something I didn’t tell you yesterday.”

“What is it, Clark?” Mom asked.

I touched my locket — which was resting on my bare chest — only half-consciously. “I saw…this bus.… It went out of control.… And it — it killed two women and a baby.”

“Oh, honey.…”

“I saw it coming, and I yelled at them to get out of the way, but they just weren’t fast enough.… Human lives are just — just so frail.…”

Mom was quiet for a second before speaking. “Clark, are you ever going to tell us what really happened in Africa?”

My hand closed on the locket. My voice barely above a whisper, I told them, “I can’t.… You wouldn’t.…I just can’t.”

I couldn’t say much more after that — couldn’t explain how what happened in Africa was a burden I had to carry alone — and we soon ended the call. After talking briefly about me with each other, they would go back to sleep without any problems. But though I had called them to make it easier for me to go to bed, I knew my night wouldn’t be restful. My mind was now on Africa. I could never tell them about what had happened there — not unless I was willing to accept that they would think differently of me. Not unless I wanted them to hate me…like I sometimes hated myself when I was sitting alone in the darkness with only the sound of my heartbeat to keep me company.

***

Chapter 6: Tomorrow Never Comes

Oh, tomorrow never never comes.

No, tomorrow never comes.

— “Tomorrow Never Comes”

***

The next day, I was working at my desk when a very grumpy Lois Lane came into the newsroom. I raised an eyebrow, taking in her sour expression. “Having problems?”

“I managed to follow the EPRAD truck with the Messenger wreckage, but I wasn’t able to get into the hangar. Dr. Baines threw me out.”

I smirked to myself. Only Lois Lane could make a person’s stopping someone from being in an off-limits area sound like a crime to humanity.

The approach of footsteps caught my attention, and I turned to see Jimmy walking toward us. Seeing he had our attention, he told us, “We got a call from Dr. Platt this morning. He’s done gathering the pieces of his report, he says, and he hopes it’s, uh, readable.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Lois said, still looking unhappy about the result of her morning escapades. “Do you think you could pick it up and also get a copy of it to S.T.A.R. Labs? Maybe one of our contacts there could analyze it.”

“Can do,” he affirmed. He left, and Lois returned to her work station. But as I moved my eyes back to what I was working on, a man and a woman stopped close to my desk. I recognized them as people who worked at the Planet, but there was some part of me that really disliked the way they were staring at Lois.

The man leaned toward his companion and whispered, “Looks like Mad Dog Lane wants to rip off a couple of heads this morning and eat them for breakfast.”

The woman stifled a giggle. “Don’t let her hear you say that.… It might be your head she rips off.”

The man’s sneer faded. “You’ve got that right. She’s the last person you want angry at you.”

Without any real thought — certainly without any conscious planning — I found myself standing beside them. They didn’t notice me at first.

“The name ‘Mad Dog’ is definitely fitting,” the woman noted. “She really is a b — ”

She cut off her words abruptly as she realized I was right beside her.

I didn’t know what to say — didn’t know what I was doing, really — and I stood there for a few awkward seconds staring at them before I mumbled, “Um, excuse me. Ms. Lane is.…” The first words that popped into my head were “my friend,” but that would have been exaggerating our relationship. My eyes flicked toward her desk hesitantly. “… my colleague,” I finished lamely. I was hoping my expression would make up for the inadequacy of my words — I wanted them to know that I didn’t appreciate their attitude toward Lois.

They exchanged a surprised glance. It was obvious they knew I had heard them talking. But they didn’t appear to know what to do next any more than I did. At last, however, the shock that someone would dare stand up for Lois Lane — albeit in a clumsy fashion — finally wore off, and they muttered something vaguely resembling an apology before they skulked off.

As I returned to my desk, I saw them both give me a backwards glance, but I paid them no heed.

My head was reeling from what had just happened — I was probably just as confused as they were.

Anger was my constant enemy. One slip on my part could lead to drastic consequences. I couldn’t afford to act impulsively.

But what I had felt was definitely the stirrings of a strange righteous anger — and from that anger had grown the even stranger compulsion to defend a woman I barely knew.

Shaking my head, I tried to force myself to calm down, but my breathing was still ragged. When my phone began to ring, I picked it up with trembling fingers and stared pensively across the newsroom at Lois’s detractors.

“Clark Kent, Daily Planet,” I said into the receiver, still distracted by my contemplation of the anger that had taken hold of me.

“Mr. Kent? This is Lex Luthor.”

My attention was suddenly captured. “Mr. L-Luthor,” I said fumblingly. “How can I help you?”

“I didn’t get the opportunity to thank you last night for saving my life, Mr. Kent.”

I shifted in my chair, feeling uncomfortable. “There is no need to thank me, Mr. Luthor.”

“No, there is,” he insisted smoothly. “Most people wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“I couldn’t just leave you there to die.…”

“And I’m grateful for that — and for the fact that you didn’t print what happened. It would have been very unfortunate to have such a scene in the paper before the White Orchid Ball. I really wanted the space station to take priority there.”

“Yes, sir,” I acknowledged. I couldn’t really blame him.

“Mr. Kent, in honor of your good deed, I would like to give you a personal interview. It would be the first one I’ve ever given, you understand.”

The significance of what he was saying was not lost on me. To get a private interview with Lex Luthor could be the thing that made my temporary status at the Planet permanent. I would go from a no-name reporter to someone who was actually seen as having some pull in this city.

I raised my eyes to look at Lois, who was busy at work. She might have told me it was her goal to get the first one-on-one interview with Lex Luthor, but she didn’t have sole ownership of the idea. Reporters got scooped all the time — it was nothing new.

But I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I did this to her. And so, I said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor, but Lois Lane has been seeking that interview with you for a while. She is the one who deserves it — you should give it to her.”

There was a pause. “Are you certain, Mr. Kent?”

I hesitated and then stated firmly, “Yes, I am.”

“Very well, then. If there is ever a favor I can do for you personally — ”

I suspected Lex Luthor hated feeling indebted to any man, but there was little I could do about it except to assure him, “There’s no need to repay me, Mr. Luthor. I am just glad to see you are recovering so well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kent. I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too, Mr. Luthor.”

After I hung up, I felt eyes on me, and I turned slightly to see Mr. White looking at me with interest. Flushing, I inquired meekly, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he replied, still studying me. “That was Lex Luthor on the phone?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mr. White.”

“Does he, uh — feel he owes you something?”

“Yes, Mr. White.”

“You didn’t do anything bad, did you?”

“No, Mr. White.”

“And he offered you a private interview — which you turned down and gave to Lois?”

“Yes, Mr. White.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “Uh…I see.” He crossed his arms. “Now, Kent, there are two things I want to tell you. The first is this — the newspaper business is a cutthroat world. You use your favors as you can to help yourself out. Now, you gave the interview to Lois, so it’s still with the Daily Planet, but I can tell you right now — if Lois had been in your position, she wouldn’t have even thought twice before jumping on it. Morals aren’t so cut and dried in journalism. Sometimes, you gotta watch out for number one and not feel bad about it.”

Glum, I watched as the Chief Editor started to walk away, but then something struck me, and I called out to him, “You said there were two things. What’s the other one?”

He turned toward me, and his serious expression was broken by a smile. “The other thing? Well, I’m proud of you for what you did, son.” He prepared to go once more and then faced me again. “Oh, by the way, Kent — that piece you wrote yesterday was a good one. You can now consider yourself a permanent member of the Daily Planet team.”

And with that simple aside, one of my dreams had come true.

Stunned, I sat there for a few moments, trying to convince myself I’d really heard him right. But my reverie was broken when Lois Lane walked up to my desk.

“What was that all about?” she asked, trying to sound offhanded. But the very fact that she was coming over to me spoke volumes for her curiosity.

“Just a story I wrote about a woman and a theater,” I responded, trying to mimic her feigned lack of concern. But I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Your rookie partner is now the newest permanent hire.”

“Temporary partner,” she corrected. “I work alone.”

“Right,” I returned.

With a mumbled congrats, she returned to work, and I did the same. But it was all I could do to keep a goofy grin off my face. Knowing I was permanently hired by the Planet was enough to lift me up to Cloud 9 and beyond.

A few minutes later, Cat came up to my desk. She had evidently learned that touching me was not the way to get on my good side, but she was focusing her every pore on looking “sultry,” as if somehow that would change my mind.

“Hello, Clark,” she purred as she sat on the corner of my desk. She pulled one of her bare legs across the other one, and I was sure that if her dress had been an inch shorter, then she would have been flashing her underwear at me. As it was, I was once again extremely discomfited by her forward manner.

“Hi, Cat,” I murmured, trying to look everywhere but at her.

“Why don’t you and I do dinner tonight? I know this wonderful restaurant owned by this sweet little old couple — they make wonderful cheeseburgers.… And their chocolate shakes are simply to die for.”

Lois passed by my desk with an annoyed expression, and I grimaced. Cat might have been trying to cater to my rural tastes, but I wasn’t having any of it. “Look, Cat, I really have a lot of work to do. Maybe some other time.”

“It’ll be a date,” she said with a sleek smile, trailing a finger across the edge of my desk before blowing me a kiss. As she left, I just shook my head, still surprised by her audacity.

I saw Lois disappear into the conference room, and I grabbed a notepad and pen and hurried after her.

Lois looked up briefly from her seat when I entered. “Playing a game of Cat and Mouse?”

I ignored her statement and gestured at her notes. “You having any luck?”

She shrugged. “I’ve called probably fifty former employees of EPRAD who knew Platt.… But no one is saying anything.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Well, we’ll need to piece together the report and then try to prove Dr. Baines did get a copy of it but ignored it.… I just hope you didn’t plan a date with Cat.”

“I don’t have a date with Cat,” I said firmly.

“All right. Let’s take a little time to regroup and then meet again when Jimmy returns. There’s a long night ahead of us.”

I smirked. “I can handle it if you can.”

She rolled her eyes. “If we’re lucky, tomorrow we’ll be able to prove Platt’s theory. It may not be easy, but I hope he’ll be back with EPRAD soon. That man is a born scientist, even if he is a bit…unorthodox.” She made a gesture toward the door, obviously dismissing me.

I left the room and returned to my desk, where I stared at my phone in contemplation. Since I had a little bit of time, I wanted to look into the incident in the alley. Was Lex Luthor trying to cover his tracks? On the phone earlier, I’d felt almost like he had wanted to offer me a bribe for my silence, though he hadn’t said anything that would explicitly indicate that. But it couldn’t hurt to check into things. Maybe there was some kind of story here.

***

Unfortunately, my pursuit of what happened in the alley to Lex Luthor only led to a bunch of dead ends. I gave up on it and was about to stand up to go talk to Lois when Perry White slapped something down on my desk. “Not sure if you saw this or not, son, but I figured you’d want to.” He smiled at me and then continued on his way.

I looked down at my desk. In front of me was a copy of the Daily Planet that had been opened to my article on the theater. It wasn’t the front page, but I was proud of it nonetheless. With a smile, I read the article and then put it inside my desk. I would have to show it to my parents sometime.

A few minutes later, Lois and I began working on piecing together the report Jimmy brought us. It was infinitely more frustrating than a jigsaw puzzle, as Dr. Platt’s report was ridiculously long and detailed. It seemed to me as if he could have just said, “The coolant systems have been replaced by heating devices, which will cause the Messenger to explode,” and then he could have been done with it. But Platt was a scientist, and simplicity wasn’t the name of his preferred game. Much to Lois’s and my misfortune.

As the hours ticked by, the newsroom became deserted except for Lois and me. We were surrounded with scraps of paper, and our task seemed more futile by the minute. The task was so daunting — there were no dates, no page numbers.… It seemed as if nothing matched. I would think I had a series of pages correctly lined up only to realize they didn’t go together at all. Finally, Lois left to pick up some Chinese food. I was still working on piecing together the report when she returned.

Lois dropped the sack of food on the table and then took out two cartons. Opening the cartons so I could see their contents, she said, “All right. You have a choice — cashew chicken or moo goo gai pan.”

I raised an eyebrow at the mediocre-looking Chinese food. “Boy, you sure know how to bring back a large selection. How can I ever choose?”

“Shut up, farmboy, or I’ll eat it all.”

Grinning, I took the moo goo gai pan, grabbed a fork, and placed a napkin in my lap. We both ate quickly, and it somehow turned into a contest as to who could eat the fastest.

“Ha!” I exclaimed at last, throwing my plastic fork into the carton along with my napkin. “I won.”

She glared at me and continued shoveling food into her mouth. After she finished off the last smidgen of rice in her carton, she pointed out, “You still have a mushroom left. So, actually, I won.”

I looked down at the tiny sliver of mushroom she was referring to. “That does not count!”

“Does, too.”

“It’s almost microscopic,” I declared incredulously.

“Tough. The contest was for eating everything.”

I narrowed my eyes. “We never set any rules for this eating contest.”

“It was understood,” she declared.

“You just can’t stand losing,” I muttered.

“Lois Lane doesn’t lose,” she informed me matter-of-factly.

I snorted but didn’t comment further. Instead, I reached for a fortune cookie, but she swatted my hand and took the one I was grabbing. “You have to take the one farthest from you,” she explained when she saw me staring at her in exasperation.

Rolling my eyes, I asked her, “What other rules do you have about food?”

“Well, for one thing, you have to eat the whole fortune cookie before you read your fortune — or else it won’t come true.”

“Fine.” I took the remaining cookie and watched her actions.

She broke her fortune cookie in two, pulled out the tiny piece of paper, and then slipped the fortune into one hand so she couldn’t see it until after eating her cookie. I mimicked her movements and began eating my own fortune cookie, feeling amused. I couldn’t really make fun of her for it. My parents and I had a lot of Kent family traditions, some of which seemed as nonsensical as Lois’s rules for eating fortune cookies. There was just something comforting about tradition that couldn’t really be explained.

When Lois and I were finally done eating our fortune cookies, she held out her piece of paper and read, “‘He who throws dirt is losing ground.’” Her expression soured. “That is not a fortune — that’s a saying. They either need to rename these things or put actual fortunes in them…like ‘You will become rich and famous’ or ‘You will lose something dear to you this year.’” She crumpled the paper and threw it in her carton. “Not something like this.”

Smiling, I took a drink of coffee before picking up my fortune, and I barely kept from choking as I read it to myself. It said, “The one you love is closer than you think.”

I was still blinking at it when Lois asked, “What does yours say?”

I almost said, “The same thing yours does,” but I knew that would draw her curiosity, so instead I thought for a second and told her, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

She snorted. “I swear — these things are getting worse every year.”

I grinned. “They could all say the same thing, and I bet you would still want to get one every time you ordered Chinese food.”

“They’re a staple for American Chinese,” she returned. “Of course I would want one.”

I just stared at her in wonder. She could really irritate me beyond belief — yet somehow, she was getting under my skin.

She stared back at me, and something passed between us. But she suddenly realized the intensity of our locked gazes and told me abruptly, “Don’t fall for me, Kent. I just don’t have time for it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. Lane,” I murmured.

As she picked up her carton and went to throw it away, I quickly shredded my fortune and then did the same.

***

After working a little longer and with more success than we’d had with empty stomachs, we gathered the pieces of Platt’s report in a box and went to his residence for help in deciphering the scientific jargon. We entered the building without problem, but we stopped abruptly when faced with the open door to Platt’s room.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I stared at that door. Coming from the room was a dim flashing and a sparking noise that just added to my sense of foreboding. Though I had the box of papers in my hands, I tried to get in front of Lois. “Lois, maybe you should let me look first.”

But she dismissed my attempt to shield her and told me, “Don’t be ridiculous, farmboy. I’ve seen a lot more in life than you have out in the cornfields.” She pushed the door open wider and went into the room with confidence. After moving the light switch back and forth and discovering it wasn’t working, she approached the chair in the middle of the room. A small halo of hair could be seen just above it. Then, I saw something else.

“Lois, hold on.… Look — the water.”

There was a pan of water visible beneath Platt’s chair, and his feet were submerged. Moving closer, we could see the electricity running from live electrical cables from the wall. And then we saw Platt, sitting back in the chair, his hair standing up and his face pale and still and utterly lifeless.

My breath caught in my throat, and Lois turned with a gasp and hid her face in my jacket. Closing my eyes, I held my breath and tensed. My instinct was to lurch back, to pull away from this human contact, but something else within me — something I had thought long extinguished — rose up, and I realized with profound shock that I wanted to embrace her. I started to bring my arms up to hold her, but then my brain caught up with my actions, and I lowered my arms and just concentrated on breathing regularly. I needed to be careful. I shouldn’t be touching her.

Finally, Lois moved away from me with a mumbled apology.

“We had better call the police,” I told her, the taste of bile in my mouth.

As Platt had been living in a condemned building, there was no phone in the room, so we went outside and found a payphone. After calling 911, we returned to the room and stood there in solemnity for a few minutes without saying anything.

Finally, I spoke. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“What?” Lois exclaimed, gazing at me incredulously.

My head was filled with thoughts of the man — and an image of that smiling girl in the photograph on his desk. Speaking in a low voice, I told Lois, “I should have forced him to leave.… I knew he wasn’t safe here, but I just let him stay.”

She was adamant. “It’s not your fault. Dr. Platt made his choice. He was willing to sacrifice himself for his daughter. Is there a more noble cause than that?”

“He shouldn’t have had to die at all,” I insisted, turning away from her and clenching my fists at my sides. “He should still be alive.”

“We’ll find whoever did this and make them pay,” she promised. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and just stared at the chair in which Platt had lost his life. Whatever we did would already be too late — a man’s life had been lost.

***

Eventually, the police arrived. They hadn’t been gathering evidence for long before they proclaimed death by suicide.

“Suicide?” I echoed, getting angry. “Dr. Platt was not suicidal. He was a brilliant man who loved his daughter and was willing to do all he could to help her, not hurt her.”

“Look — ” one of the policemen started to say.

“He would not kill himself,” I growled, my rage growing. “He was helping us work on a very important case. He gave his life for it.”

“He’s attempted suicide before, Kent,” Inspector Henderson — the detective covering the case — pointed out in a calm voice. “There are no signs of struggle or forced entry.”

“I told you — he did not kill himself,” I growled. “His death has been set up to look like a — ” My anger was growing to dangerous levels, and that realization hit me suddenly. I could feel my expression morph from extreme fury to something resembling a deer in the headlights. What was I doing? “I’m sorry. I just — I’m sorry.” I bit my lip and glanced at my watch. It was 5:30 am. Turning to Lois, I mumbled weakly, “I’ll see you at the Planet at 9,” and then I left, ignoring her as she called out after me.

I doubted I would be able to get much sleep, but I knew that she needed it. All I was able to think about was how I was partially responsible for Platt’s death. I should have gotten him out of there.

***

Chapter 7: I’m so Lonesome I Could Cry

Did you ever see a robin weep

When leaves began to die?

That means he’s lost the will to live.…

I’m so lonesome I could cry.

— “I’m so Lonesome I Could Cry”

***

Unable to sleep at all, I got to the Planet earlier than I had told Lois. I found Jimmy and asked him if he’d heard from S.T.A.R. Labs, but he hadn’t yet. As soon as he did, he assured me, he would let me know.

Then I tried calling Henderson, hoping he had come across some sort of clue that would help us prove it was murder. But nothing conclusive had been found.

“I’m sorry, Kent,” he told me, “but we’re going to have to put ‘suicide’ on the autopsy report.”

“I understand,” I said with a sigh. “Thank you for your help.” I made an angry scribble on my notepad with my pen. The action was pointless, but it made me feel a little better.

“Which is not to say that it can’t be changed if you find proof of wrongdoing,” he pointed out. “It looks suspicious to me, too, but we need evidence before we can point any fingers.”

I nodded slowly to myself. The man was doing his job — I needed to be careful that I didn’t take my frustrations out on him. “I’ll try to find some for you,” I told him firmly. “Whoever did this needs to pay.”

After hanging up with Henderson, I went back to work. Around nine, Lois entered the newsroom and walked over to my desk. Evidently, she was able to tell I’d been at the Planet for a while, as she asked, “Anything?”

“No luck,” I said soberly. I wished I could make a better report.

Lois went to her own desk, and shortly after, Jimmy came up to me and said, “C.K., you and Lois have a couple of visitors.”

I looked up and saw a girl in a wheelchair next to a blonde-haired woman. Realizing this girl was the one who had been in the picture on Platt’s desk, I said, “Thanks, Jimmy,” and then I stood. I retrieved Lois, and we began walking toward the pair.

On seeing us, the woman held up a finger to signify for us to wait, so we paused and watched as she wheeled the girl over toward the elevator to wait for her. Then she came to us.

“Are you Dr. Platt’s sister?” I ventured.

She nodded and gave a weak smile. Her pain bubbled beneath the surface, and my heart went out to her. “Yes, Mr. Kent,” she acknowledged. “I’m Mrs. Knightley. My husband and I have been taking care of his daughter, Amy. A few nights ago, my brother managed to get a message to me that you and Ms. Lane were working to prove his theory right. You — you have no idea how much that means to me.…” Her voice was getting choked up, and she couldn’t seem to say much else.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I told her softly.

“Thank you,” she said in a strained voice. After gazing briefly in the direction of her niece, she told us, “Amy doesn’t know yet. Everything Samuel and his wife worked on was for her, you understand. I just — ” She trailed off, obviously emotionally distraught. “How can I tell her that her father has died when she has just recovered from the loss of her mother? He sent her to be with me when he realized he was in danger. He didn’t want to put her at risk. She’s such a sweet child — I’ve been trying to be a mother figure to her, but I’m no replacement for her real mother. And now, she’s lost her father.…” She gave us an earnest look. “I don’t know who did this to him, but I do know that my brother would have never killed himself. He was murdered because he knew the Prometheus program was being sabotaged. He wasn’t insane; he was just a target.… Please, help clear Samuel’s name. Don’t let Amy grow up thinking — thinking that her father committed suicide. I’m going to have to tell her he’s passed on — but please don’t let suicide be what I have to tell her. My husband and I — we love Amy. We don’t want her to hurt any more than she has to.…”

“I promise we’ll do everything we can to help,” I told her. “We believe you.”

“Mrs. Knightley,” Lois said in a quiet voice, “children are resilient. She may be hurt by her father’s death — but don’t wait too long to tell her. She needs to know.”

She nodded slowly. “I know.…” Wiping a tear from her eye, she whispered, “Thank you so much.” She glanced briefly at Amy. “Would — would you like to meet my niece?”

“We’d love to,” I responded.

Lois and I followed Mrs. Knightley over to Amy Platt, who smiled on seeing us. “This is Amy,” Mrs. Knightley said. “Amy, this is Ms. Lane and Mr. Kent.”

“Hello, Amy,” I greeted.

“Hi,” the girl returned. “Is it fun being a reporter?”

I felt as if my heart were being squeezed between two anvils. This girl had lost both her parents in just a matter of a few years.… When she learned about her father’s death, how would she be able to endure it? The level of fun involved in being a reporter would be far from her mind then.

“It is,” Lois said gently. “But it’s also a lot of work.”

Amy nodded and then turned to her aunt. “I’m supposed to be at Susan’s by now — remember?”

“I know,” Mrs. Knightley acknowledged. She gave Lois and me a smile. “Thank you again.” She pressed the button for the elevator, obviously under great strain to try to maintain a cheerful countenance.

Lois and I exchanged a helpless look. Suddenly, we noticed people were gathering around the newsroom televisions. We moved to join them and saw a special report from LexTel.

A few different members of the Congress of Nations were visible in the press room on the screen, but it was a Hindu woman in traditional garb who began to speak first. “We are pleased to announce that we have made the unanimous decision to continue our plans for Space Station Prometheus.”

A reporter asked about Lex Luthor’s proposal, and the chairperson on the screen answered, “The Congress of Nations is very grateful to Mr. Luthor for his generous offer, but we believe we should continue with our schedule as planned. Prometheus is a project dedicated to international cooperation, and we do not wish to lose sight of that.”

The chairperson answered some questions, and I soon walked away from the television with a sense of satisfaction. Something about Luthor’s offer to fund a space station of his own had bugged me, and I was glad I didn’t need to worry about it any longer. The program would remain an international endeavor.

Lois gestured for me to follow her into the conference room, and I did so. As we were organizing our notes, Jimmy came in. He handed Lois a file. “So, I talked to some people at S.T.A.R. Labs, and they analyzed the report.… They used a hologram much like Lex Luthor’s to recreate the Messenger’s launch. It was really amazing.…” Seeing the look Lois gave him, he said hastily, “But the point of the matter is — Platt’s theory was right. Someone did deliberately sabotage the transport. That explosion wasn’t an accident. Congrats, you two — you did it!” And with a grin and a wave, he left.

Lois and I turned to each other, ecstatic.

“We proved Dr. Platt right!” I exclaimed. “And now we can write the story.”

“You mean I can write the story,” Lois corrected.

“And I can help you write it.”

“And you can help,” she said in agreement. “Then, if we are able to convince people that the Messenger was sabotaged.…”

I beamed. “We might be able to prevent anything bad from happening again!”

Lois moved to hug me but suddenly backed up. “Sorry, just got — carried away,” she muttered.

Though she hadn’t touched me, I felt a strange sense of loss. Still, wanting to cover up the awkwardness and keep the positive energy going, I suggested, “What if we have dinner — to celebrate?”

She nodded. “I would like that, it — oh, wait. No. I can’t have dinner.”

I tilted my head. “Other plans?”

“Yes, actually.”

I felt a sudden spark of annoyance as I realized what she must mean. “With Lex Luthor?” I wasn’t sure why, but the man made me uncomfortable. And the fact that I’d basically shot myself in the foot on this occasion by telling him to give Lois an interview instead of me was irksome.

“Yes. I already told you — I’m getting that private interview with him if it kills me.”

You’ve already got it, I thought to myself, and you don’t even know that you’re indebted to me for it.

“I’m sorry we can’t celebrate tonight,” she said as she left the conference room.

Following her out, I told her, “Lois, please just be careful with him. He gives me an uneasy feeling.”

She swiveled to face me. “Look, Kent, I have taken care of myself for this long, and I don’t need some ‘big and strong man’ to protect me.”

“The man could be dangerous, Lois. You don’t know what he’s done on his way to the top — ”

“I don’t need a bodyguard or a babysitter, Kent,” she proclaimed, walking away.

“What is your problem?” I growled after her.

She stopped again, whipping her head toward me and lifting an accusatory finger. “My problem is that Perry thrust such an inexperienced hack from Nowheresville — ”

“What — and you think it’s been easy working with you?” I gave a bitter laugh. “Do you know what they call you around here?”

Her face fell, and I instantly regretted what I had said. “Never mind,” I murmured, turning away.

“What do they call me?” she asked in a small voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her, not looking at her.

I had only walked a few more steps when she said, “Kent — please tell me.” When I looked at her, she corrected softly, “Clark.”

I would have given anything to take back my words. But if I didn’t tell her, she would probably do some digging and find out anyway. It was probably best for her to hear it from me.

“Well, I’ve only been here for a few days,” I said quietly, “but I’ve heard you called…the Ice Queen…and Mad Dog Lane.”

Her lips became a thin line, and she nodded. As she began to retreat to the safety of the elevators, I called after her, “Lois…I think you’re a brilliant reporter. And the petty things people say shouldn’t matter at all. Everyone here knows that you’re one of the best investigative journalists this country has ever seen.”

She nodded but refused to meet my eyes. As the elevator closed, I wondered if the last words I had said had made even the slightest of impacts.

***

That night, I did some more walking around the city before returning to my hotel room. I felt restless, upset.…

I couldn’t believe what I had said to Lois. She was just so aggravating sometimes that I had wanted to lash out at her — and I was ashamed of myself. She was a woman trying to make it in a man’s world. I couldn’t blame her for being overly aggressive. There was no excuse for what I had done.

What made me feel even worse was the fact that I kept thinking about her having dinner with Lex Luthor. I wasn’t certain if it was supposed to be a date or an interview, but just the idea of it was driving me nuts. Still, there was nothing I could do about it. If I’d had my powers…but no. I shouldn’t be spying on Lois Lane. That would probably qualify as stalker territory. I didn’t need to stoop to that to satisfy my curiosity.

I took off my locket and began to clean it carefully. My thoughts soon turned to my grandmother. It had belonged to her. I hated the fact that I’d had to coat it in white lead-based paint, but the shard’s effect on me wouldn’t be blocked by closing the locket otherwise.

I smiled as I thought of her. She had been such a wonderful person. I had been so devastated when she had died.

My powers really hadn’t begun to show until after she’d passed away, and I wasn’t sure what exactly my parents had told her about me, but she had said to me one time, “Clark, you’re a very special boy. You may not think it now, but one day you are going to do great things.… You can trust me on that.”

But I had done nothing great. She’d been wrong.

If she had lived longer, I might have told her about my special abilities as they appeared. But a car accident had taken her life, and so only my parents knew about me — well, that might not have been entirely true. I suspected Wayne Irig — my parents’ neighbor and friend — knew more than he admitted.

Sometimes, I wondered what would have happened if I’d had my powers when my grandmother died. Would I have been able to save her? Would I have known she was in danger and zipped to her side, only to be too late to do anything? Or would I have still been utterly clueless?

I didn’t want the abilities — didn’t want the power and responsibility that came with them. I wished I could just be normal.

I stared at the necklace in my hand, feeling hatred and sorrow and need. The shard hidden inside the locket gave me just a glimpse of normal — it let me experience what it was like to have no powers. But I always knew they would come back…and I would have to put myself through the terrible pain of exposure time and time again. I hated that I had to do it — hated that I felt the weight of that locket against my chest every day. I hated that this would be my life forever. But I had no choice. I couldn’t keep from exposing myself to the shard unless I holed myself away from human company forever.

Occasionally, I thought about suicide.

It was never more than half-serious, but the idea floated up every now and then. It seemed as if it would just make things so much easier.

I was a monster.… And my parents didn’t know it. I couldn’t let them ever know it. I would live with the pain of meteor rock exposure every minute of the day to keep them from feeling any great pain of their own.

If it weren’t for them, all of my dreams would have died years ago. As it was, I was finally breathing life into my dreams for their sakes.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to enjoy life. But I kept thinking of South Africa and what had happened there.

There was one dream that I could never realize. I could never get married and have a family. I couldn’t ever allow myself to get close to another person like that. It was too dangerous.

I put the chain around my neck and held the locket against my chest. The morning exposures to meteor rock were getting more difficult, especially since I wasn’t getting as much sleep as I needed. And so I thumbed open the locket and gave myself only a brief exposure to the rock. I was exhausted, so I couldn’t take much without coming dangerously close to unconsciousness, but it was hopefully enough to get me through most of the next day. If I needed another dose at the office, I would give it to myself briefly, even if I didn’t like having to do it there.

When I was done with the locket, I collapsed backward onto the bed, my heart aching for the future I would never have.

***

Chapter 8: Make the World Go Away

Make the world go away.

Get it off my shoulder.

— “Make the World Go Away”

***

The next day at the Planet, Lois practically swaggered into work. She had in her hand a few papers which she promptly took into Perry White’s office. When she returned, she paused at my desk and crowed, “Last night, I landed the first one-on-one interview with Lex Luthor. Persistence pays off.”

“It wasn’t persistence,” I muttered despite myself.

“What did you just say?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” I said hastily, regretting my outburst.

She crossed her arms. “Lex Luthor said I had an anonymous benefactor to thank for him giving me that interview. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

I avoided her eyes. “I think we need to get Jimmy and talk to Perry White about — ”

“Kent,” she said forcefully. “Answer me.”

I sighed and sat back. “I told him to give that interview to you instead of me.”

She stared at me incredulously for a few seconds before growling something derogatory about well-meaning farmboys under her breath. Then she muttered something about going to the ladies’ room and left in a huff.

When Lois returned a few minutes later, it was as if our conversation had never happened. We corralled Jimmy and went to the Editor-in-Chief with our story about the space program. A few minutes after that, we had left Perry White’s office, the words “cold…hard…facts” ringing in our ears. All of our evidence was wrapped up in the words of a dead man the world thought unhinged enough to commit suicide. In hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that our story was considered unprintable. Still, the weight of dejection hung on our shoulders.

Lois, however, soon recovered and said, “Okay. So we need some physical proof.”

“Pictures are probably our best bet,” Jimmy noted.

“If we got pictures of the wreckage, maybe S.T.A.R. Labs would be able to tell that the wrong systems had been put in place,” I said thoughtfully. “I’ll go call Dr. Baines — see if we can get permission to set up an independent examination.”

“Farmboy, Baines won’t let us go near that wreckage. We’ve tried already, remember? And there isn’t time to play by the rules — the transport containing the colonists is supposed to go up in two days.”

I told her stubbornly, “I’m going to try anyway. Maybe I’ll be able to find someone else at EPRAD to help.”

“Fine — go ahead,” Lois muttered.

I went to my desk and called EPRAD. But — just as Lois had predicted — I had absolutely no luck in getting anyone to approve an independent examination. The lid they were keeping on all this was tight and not budging, and everyone kept giving me the run-around. Frustrated, I spent some time going over my notes and making calls, and before I knew it, the time had come for the staff meeting. I headed into the conference room, where some people were gathered around the table.

After waiting a few minutes for more people to file in, Mr. White said, “All right. Let’s start this thing. I’m sorry it’s so late, but that’s how it goes sometimes.” He suddenly frowned. “Kent — do you know where Lois and Jimmy are?”

I furrowed my brow. “I had assumed they would be here — I haven’t seen them since this afternoon, actually.”

He shrugged. “Okay. We’ll just hold the meeting without them.” He began discussing the week’s stories, but I kept looking at the door. I just couldn’t concentrate.

Finally, I stood and headed for the exit. The Chief Editor stopped mid-sentence and barked, “Kent!”

I turned toward him.

“This meeting isn’t adjourned.”

I winced. “I’m sorry, Mr. White, but it just isn’t like Lois and Jimmy to miss a staff meeting.”

He gave me a look that seemed to say, “How would you know that? You haven’t even been here a week.” But then he nodded curtly and said, “Fine. Go find those two. Lois has a nose for trouble, and Jimmy never has been good at keeping her out of it.”

I was out the door in a flash, glad he didn’t seem too upset that I was leaving. I didn’t even have to think twice about where they were — they must have gone to the hangar to get pictures of the wreckage.… And something had happened to them, or else they would have been back by now.

I brought my locket out from underneath my shirt and considered giving myself a dose of the green rock. I could feel my powers returning. My most recent exposure hadn’t been enough.

But as I thought about Lois and Jimmy, I let go of the locket and reluctantly decided to refrain from opening it. They could be in big trouble, and my abilities might prove to be a real boon in this instance. I hated it, but it was possible I would need every ounce of strength I could get. I couldn’t let anything happen to them. I’d seen far too much death these past few days in Metropolis.

I thought about leaving the newsroom through the storage room window, but I didn’t think I would be able to fly yet, and so I chose the stairs instead, jogging down them at a speed that was slightly faster than that of a normal human.

***

I took a cab to EPRAD and — faster than any human could — located the hangar where Lois and Jimmy were. Looking through the metal walls, I saw that Jimmy was unconscious and Lois was bound to some sort of metal structure. Dr. Baines and a muscular tattooed man were holding them captive. Though my x-ray vision was a little shaky, I had seen all that I needed.

I briefly stood there and considered what my course of action should be. Gunning hostages down in cold blood didn’t seem to be Dr. Baines’s style — still, I needed to get close to them. My powers weren’t yet up to zipping them in and out of the building — even if I was wearing black as camouflage, which I wasn’t — and I needed to buy a little time.

Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I rammed the outside door hard enough to knock it off its hinges and onto the ground. Though the action almost knocked the wind out of me, I stepped onto the door and into the building and commanded, “Drop your guns, or.…” It was only then that I realized how truly lame my plan was. There had to have been a better way of delaying Dr. Baines. But that was a realization I had made far too late.

Her gun pointed at me, Dr. Baines asked, “Or you’ll make a citizen’s arrest and take me in to the police?” She smiled. “I don’t think so, Mr. Kent.”

Seeing the exasperated look on Lois’s face, I felt like kicking myself.

***

Much to my misfortune, I was chained up next to Lois, who started in on a tirade as soon as Baines and her goon left the room.

“I told Perry that what I needed was a task force.… A task force. You know, a team of capable individuals who would pull their own weight and help me get out of jams — not make the jams worse. Instead, I get a five hundred pound gorilla with more brawn than brains and a skinny photographer who doesn’t know how to take or throw a punch. If you’d really wanted to help us out, Kent, why didn’t you call the police?”

“Lois — ”

“Oh, wait, dumb question — it’s because you’re like every other male in the world and think you can handle everything alone. Call the police? Of course not — what a stupid idea that would be when you can instead come in and break a door down and put yourself right in the line of fire of trigger-happy criminals, conveniently forgetting the fact that you are not bullet-proof — that you cannot magically melt those weapons or miraculously tie up your assailants.… Or maybe you thought the Mad Dog could break herself out of her restraints by using her viciously sharp teeth.”

Straining with all my might, I had managed to break the padlock holding my chains together. But her words made me stop short of removing my hands from the links. “Lois, I’m sorry I told you about that. It’s just — you can be a bit intimidating to people, you know?”

She was quiet for a few seconds, and I tried to turn my head to look at her. When she spoke, she did so quietly, her diatribe finished. “I guess I can be a bit like a dog with a bone.… But I’ve had to be to make it in this business.”

“I know, Lois. But you’re at the top now. Anyone who pays any attention to the Planet knows that — you’re an admired and well-respected journalist.”

“Well, it wasn’t always that way.… I used to be a lot less cynical. When I first started working for the Daily Planet at twenty-one, I was a bright-eyed optimist.”

“Really?” I sounded more surprised than I had meant to.

“Yeah. My first big story was a good one — it was about this married couple acting as gunrunners.… But then this reporter, Claude, well…he swept me off my feet. He had this French accent and really knew how to pour on the charm. We…slept together, and I told him about the story I was working on. The next morning, he was gone, of course — and so was my story.” She sighed. “You know the nickname ‘Ice Queen’? Well, it was started by him.… After that, I realized it was a dog-eat-dog world, and I became tenacious. It helped me climb my way to the top, but I guess it didn’t help me win any friends along the way.… And now, because I refused to look before I leapt yet again, we’re all going to die.”

“Lois, there was no way for you to know that this was going to happen. We’re going to get out of this somehow — I promise.”

She was quiet for a few seconds. “Why did you give me that interview with Lex Luthor?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “You had worked so hard to get it. I didn’t think it was fair that I have it just because I was in the right place at the right time.”

“You saved his life — ”

“Anyone could have done that,” I interrupted.

“No. What you did was a great thing.… And what I’ve done is so terrible. I’m sorry I got us into this — Baines is going to kill us, and it’s all my fault.”

I opened my mouth, wanting to give her some kind of reassurance, but Dr. Baines finally returned from the darkness.

“I hope you enjoy your accommodations,” the scientist said with a saccharine smile. “This is, after all, the last place you’re going to see before you die. The three of you are about to be victims of a very unfortunate accident.…”

Warily, Lois asked, “What do you mean?”

Dr. Baines gave her an innocent look. “Yes, well, you see, while the orbital maneuvering system was being dismantled, the monomethyl hydrozene leaked…and it mixed with the nitrogen tetroxide.” She had walked away from us and allowed the two substances to begin pouring onto the ground. The liquids slowly began to spread and move toward each other. “Unfortunately, three reporters were killed by the blast, unaware of the danger they had put themselves in when they decided to come snooping around.”

She stepped toward me and put a hand under my chin, lifting it upward. I was motionless, my face tight, as she gently kissed my lips. When she pulled back, she saw my locket, which I had forgotten to tuck inside my shirt earlier, and she pulled it upward and off my neck.

I started to protest but bit back the words, knowing that time was running out.

“What an interesting piece of jewelry,” she commented. Seeing the enraged look in my eyes, she smiled and slipped it over her own neck. “I think I’ll keep it for myself as a souvenir.”

And then she left with her lackey. I hesitated for only a second before removing my hands from my chains and freeing Lois from her bonds.

“How did — ”

“Missing link,” I replied curtly.

“Grab Jimmy,” she told me.

I turned to her, feeling as if I had been punched in the gut. My abilities had returned somewhat, and I was supposed to manhandle Jimmy? “Lois — ”

“Please, just this once. I know you don’t like touching people, but I can’t carry him very far myself.”

I took in a deep breath and nodded, picking up the unconscious Jimmy from the floor and draping him over my shoulder.

We raced toward the exit, but I knew we wouldn’t make it in time as we were, so after a gut-wrenching moment of consideration, I put my arm around Lois and used my abilities to fling us forward and through the air. My powers still weren’t at full strength, which meant I wouldn’t have been able to remain airborne long, but fortunately we didn’t have to go far. We fell into a giant puddle of mud, and Lois quickly stood and looked at the massive fireball that was the hangar.

I moved away from Jimmy’s unconscious form and pulled my knees up to my chin. The gravity of everything that had just happened suddenly hit me like a freight train. My chest was seizing up. My heart was beating rapidly. I was starting to shake.

I heard Lois’s voice say distantly, “Clark?”

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against my knees.

“Clark, are you okay?”

I could sense that Lois was kneeling beside me. Fortunately, she wasn’t touching me. That would have sent me over the edge.

“Clark, you had to touch him — you saved his life.”

“No,” I told her hoarsely. “I could have killed him. I shouldn’t have done that.” I felt the burden of the world on my shoulders. I wished I could have just made it go away.

“Clark, you didn’t kill him. You saved him.”

“My locket — ”

“We’ll get you a new locket, okay?”

There was a sudden whirring noise, and I looked up from my knees to the sky in time to see Baines’s getaway helicopter explode in a giant ball of fire. I knew then the shard was gone for good — I no longer had it, but at least she didn’t either. Yet I needed that shard — I needed to expose myself right then. I couldn’t use my powers any more. I could have killed Jimmy. It was even more dangerous than when I’d saved Lex Luthor.

“Clark, let’s go back to the Planet,” Lois said gently. She almost moved to help me up but stopped herself just in time. “You saved Jimmy’s life — he would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Jimmy groaned suddenly, and both Lois and I turned to look at him. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “What happened?” he asked groggily.

“Clark saved your life,” Lois said firmly.

“Lois — ” I tried to protest.

“He saved your life, and now we’re going to go back to the Planet and write up this story. You feeling okay, Jimmy?”

Jimmy nodded. “Nothing a little time won’t cure.”

Lois helped Jimmy to his feet and then stared down at me. “Come on, Clark.”

I took in a few deep breaths and then stood a little shakily. “Okay.”

“Are you going to be all right, Clark?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I replied automatically. I didn’t want her to worry about me — but there was a part of me that enjoyed her using my first name without being prompted.

She looked at my face for a second before nodding. She and Jimmy walked away, and I gazed briefly at the sky where Baines’s helicopter had once been. I needed that locket. But it was surely destroyed now.

***

We separated to go home and change into clean clothes and then return to the Planet. When I arrived in the newsroom, Mr. White was at Lois’s desk, looking over her shoulder at the article she had already started writing. “Kent,” he greeted me. “Thanks for getting Lois and Jimmy out of that mess.”

“We were doing fine on our own,” Lois muttered, though her voice didn’t have any real bite to it.

Ignoring her, the Editor-in-Chief continued, “It’s good to know that you can be counted on when things, uh, hit the fan.… I’m proud of you, son.”

“Thanks, Mr. White,” I said quietly as he began walking toward his office. I was still feeling unbalanced — Lois and Jimmy could have died. The thought frightened me.

A few minutes later, Jimmy had arrived, and then Mr. White left for the night. I had the feeling the Chief Editor wanted a visual confirmation that Jimmy was all right. Though I hadn’t been working for the Daily Planet for long, I could already tell that Perry White and Jimmy Olsen had a bond much like that of father and son. I didn’t know what their lives were like away from the Planet, but I had a feeling it hadn’t all been flowers and sunshine.

While Lois continued working on the story about the space program and Baines, I stood uneasily a few feet from her and made occasional comments. As for Jimmy — well — he acted as if he was more interested in what had happened in the hangar than in giving input on the story. There wasn’t much to tell about what happened at EPRAD, but I provided him some details. I had the feeling he was trying to concoct a good story to boast about, and I didn’t want to curb his enthusiasm. I had no problem with him enjoying the limelight.

When the article was finally finished and sent for Perry White to read in the morning, Lois turned to Jimmy and me with a grin. She seemed to be filled with adrenaline. “Why don’t we all get ice cream?”

I gave her a skeptical look. “Where would you get ice cream at this time?”

“Trust me — the Fudge Castle is open till 1 am.” At my expression, she defended, “You never know when people are going to get midnight chocolate cravings!”

“Lois probably keeps them in business,” Jimmy jested. He lifted his hands when Lois glared at him. “Just tellin’ it like I see it,” he noted with a chuckle. Looking at his watch, he said, “You know, I think I’m going to turn it down this time. I’m tired, and we gophers don’t get as much leeway in being late as you full-time reporters.”

“All right.” Lois looked at me with a smile. “Then I guess it’s just you and me.”

I glanced away uneasily. “Uh, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Come on,” she told me, gesturing for me to follow her to the elevator. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” I muttered. I wanted to come up with an excuse not to go — feeling it would just be best for me to return to the hotel — but I didn’t like my chances of trying to change Lois’s mind.

***

When we got to the Fudge Castle, I simply stood and stared at the menu (once I’d torn my eyes away from my surroundings) for a few minutes without saying anything. The place was filled with chocolate creations of all kinds — candy bars, fudge, ice cream.… It was a chocoholic’s dreamland…and a diabetic’s nightmare. Even though I was limiting myself to the ice cream menu, I found it difficult to choose something. Fortunately, there was a line at the register, so I didn’t have to order immediately. Unfortunately, I found that even the little extra time wasn’t helping that much.

Finally, it was our turn, and I gave Lois a helpless look. “I’m not sure what to get,” I muttered.

Taking charge, she stepped forward and ordered for both herself and me. “I’ll take the Chocolate Dreamer’s Lullaby, and he’ll have the Choco Lavaburst River.” When she saw my skeptical look (who named these things anyway?), she told me, “It’s best for a first-timer.”

We took our ice cream to a small black-and-white-checkered table, and I was surprised to realize something that hadn’t registered before. There really were a lot of people at the Fudge Castle for this time of night.

“There are quite a few people here,” I commented, looking around.

“It’s the only ice cream place in the city that’s open this late, so everyone comes here to satisfy their cravings.” She took a bite of her ice cream and made a sensuous noise that made me gulp: “Mmm.”

I shifted my chair back a few inches, trying to keep a clear distance from her. I didn’t need extra-human hearing to know that she was enjoying herself. She licked some chocolate off her lips, and I forced my eyes to move from the pinkness of her tongue to the darkness of my ice cream. I scooped up a bite and thrust the spoon into my mouth, forcing myself to concentrate on the rich flavor instead of the sudden spark of my libido.

I was quiet for a few minutes, and when I looked up, Lois was staring at me with a worried expression. “Are you really going to be all right, Clark?” she asked softly.

I considered the question for a couple of seconds. The fact that she was still using my first name appeared to be an indication of how serious she was. Knowing that she was worried about me was touching — and it made me feel a little better.

Nodding slowly, I told her, “Yeah…I will be.”

“Why are you so scared of touching people?” she asked with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I’m sorry, Lois,” I said softly, not meeting her eyes, “but I can’t tell you that. It’s just — it’s just best that I don’t touch people.”

She placed her hand on the table, and I could tell she was wishing she could grasp mine with hers. “Clark, you can be such a gentle person. I don’t know why it bothers you so much.”

“It’s a rule I made for myself, Lois…and I know you know about those.” I gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

Lois stared at me briefly and then smiled back. “I guess we all have to figure out our boundaries.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “We do.”

I went back to eating my ice cream, trying to ignore her pensive gaze.

***

After leaving the Fudge Castle, I returned to the Hotel Apollo and called my parents’ house. I hated that waking up my parents seemed like it was becoming a habit, but I needed to talk to one of them again.

“‘Lo?” came my mom’s voice.

“I’m sorry I’m calling so late, Mom. I won’t keep you for long — I just needed to ask you to do something for me. I’ll tell you the details some other time, but my locket was destroyed. Sometime tomorrow, when I feel my powers have come back enough, I’m going to — to fly to Kansas. Do you think you could have a new shard of meteor rock ready for me in…in a lead box?” It had been a long time since I had done any long-distance flying, and the thought terrified me, but I really needed to get a shard as soon as I could. Without one, I was too dangerous to be around.

Mom was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay, Clark. I’ll have it ready for you in a lead box — and I’ll try to get you some lead paint, too.”

I felt relieved that she had thought of that. Lead paint was generally only available for non-residential use, and I didn’t know how to get my hands on any. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, Clark. Goodnight.”

“Love you, Mom.”

“And we love you.”

***

Chapter 9: When You’re Gone

When you’re gone, yet I’ll dream

A little dream as years go by.

— “A Fool such as I”

***

I called in sick to work the next day. To be safe, I didn’t want to return to the Planet until I had finally gotten another dose of meteor rock. I was basically just going to wait around in the sun until I felt fast enough to make the flight to Kansas.

Deciding to do a bit of reading, I picked up Crime and Punishment. I approached the end of the novel fairly swiftly, and I was just to the point where Raskolnikov confesses his crime to the police when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, I looked at my watch and saw that it was noon.

Putting the book down, I jogged over to the door and opened it. Lois Lane entered with a whirlwind of activity.

She was babbling as she took some food out of a bag and began to set the items in a neat line on the counter. “Now, I know you’re not sick, and I figured you were staying away because of last night. I decided to let you have your day today, but you are coming in to work tomorrow if Perry has to send the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse after you. Now, I figured you probably wouldn’t feel like making any food, so I brought you some myself. Not that I made it myself, as I’m not trying to kill you, but it’s good enough for a lunch — there’s a ham sandwich, a pickle, a bag of chips, a cup of soup, and a couple of cookies. I figured you would have drinks, so I didn’t bring anything.” She turned around and frowned. “Boy, this place is grungy.”

Staring at her in amazement, I asked her, “Did you even stop to take a breath during all of that?”

Ignoring me, she just started babbling once more. “I know someone who could help you find a better place. Anything would be better than this, I guess, but we can probably find you a good fixer-upper if you’re trying not to spend much. I know how it can be starting a new job and having to get an expensive new wardrobe and all that — ”

“Lois, slow down,” I finally managed to get in. I had the feeling that her babbling was an attempt to cover up how uneasy it made her feel to make an overture of friendship like this. It was surprising, but I was grateful.

She smiled at me. “Sorry.” Then her smile turned into a frown. “I knew you weren’t sick, but if I had to say how you look, I’d say you seem even better than normal. I mean, you might be a bit emotionally drained and all, but your appearance isn’t as pale as it has been sometimes.” She moved toward me as if to touch my arm but then caught herself and gave me an annoyed look.

“I, uh, I might be anemic or something,” I muttered, trying to come up with an excuse. “Thanks for the food, Lois — really, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she acknowledged, glancing at what she had brought. “I just wanted to show you that Lois Lane can be nice sometimes. Oh!” She reached into her coat and pulled out a folded newspaper. “Here — this is for you.”

I took the paper from her and opened it up to look at the front page. The headline read:

MESSENGER SABOTAGED

SABOTEUR DIES IN FIERY EXPLOSION

My eyes went to the article itself, and I saw that Jimmy and I were listed in the byline as contributing reporters. I smiled and nodded. “Very nice.”

“It feels good to see your name on the front page, doesn’t it?” she said knowingly. “Jimmy’s been telling wild stories of his bravery. I told him that if he didn’t take it down a couple notches, then I would tell all those girls he was unconscious most of the time.”

I smiled. “Gotta keep him in line, huh?”

“Exactly,” she said. “And you’ll be glad to know that Amy will be on the colonist transport to Space Station Prometheus. Oh — I almost forgot something else.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver locket and necklace. Then she started rambling yet again. “I found it at a little antique place. I know it won’t be the same as your old locket — after all, it’s not your grandmother’s — and you will have to get a new picture, but hopefully it will work as a sort of symbol of the old one — ”

“Thank you, Lois,” I broke in, grateful but somber. The fact that she had gotten it for me made me feel good — but the knowledge of what I was going to use it for made me sick to my stomach. At least she would never know what its true purpose was. “I appreciate it,” I told her. “It means a lot to me.”

She smiled a bit unsurely and then held the necklace out in her palm. I reached out, my hand hovering over hers, but I hesitated, not wanting to touch her. She started to lift her hand, and I jerked mine away.

“Oh, Clark, I’m sorry — I forgot.” She grasped one part of the necklace and held it so that it was dangling in the air. “Here.”

I took it from her and clenched it in my palm. “Thanks again, Lois.” I was glad that crisis had been averted without any hard feelings.

Lois nodded, seeming a bit uncomfortable with my open gratitude. “You know, they’ve fixed the colonist launch vehicle — it was suffering from the same problems as the Messenger — and I’m thinking about going up on it to give the Planet an exclusive personal account.”

“What?” I gaped, something striking my chest that felt almost like bereavement. She was going to leave Earth?

“Yeah — I think it would be a good opportunity for the Planet.”

“But Lois — that would be illegal! Not to mention dangerous. And — ”

“A good reporter knows when to cross the line,” Lois cut in.

I ran a hand through my hair anxiously. I was realizing just how much I didn’t want her to leave — if she did, I might never see her again. “You could be — you could be arrested,” I told her weakly.

“It’s a great opportunity,” she said, giving me a strange look.

“Lois.…” I didn’t know what else to say. I only knew it was a bad idea.

She stared at me for a second, more protests ready to fire from her lips, but then she abruptly turned complacent. “You know — you’re right. It’s a bad idea, really.”

She was giving in too easily, and it was making me suspicious. I was about to inquire further into her motives when the phone rang.

“Sorry,” I apologized, “I should get this.” I stepped over to the phone and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Clark, it’s your mother. I just wanted to let you know that we have the shard ready for whenever you want to pick it up. Are you feeling…recharged yet?”

“I’m…doing better. I don’t know if I’m up to a hundred percent yet, but I’ll get there soon.”

Mom must have sensed that I was acting a little weird, for she asked, “Is there…someone with you?”

“Yeah, Lois brought me some lunch.”

She paused. “Lois? Well, you’ll need to tell me more about this ‘Lois’ later.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right.”

“If you’re busy, I’ll let you go then.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Goodbye, Clark.”

I hung up the phone and turned to Lois. “Sorry — that was my mom. She was just…checking up on me.”

In a voice that was almost gentle, Lois asked, “She’s worried about you, too, huh?”

I raised an eyebrow, touched. “You’re worried about me?”

She began to backtrack speedily. “No, I’m not worried about you. Well — I mean, maybe a little. I know you can take care of yourself. It’s just — look, I really should be heading back. I’m glad to see you’re doing better than last night. Just remember — you’re expected to be back at work tomorrow.”

A second later, she was out the door with a hasty farewell.

I smiled. She had made me feel a little better — something my book of choice certainly hadn’t been doing. With a sigh, I put the necklace around my neck and tried floating. Well, it looked like I was as close to full-power as I needed to be. I would eat the lunch Lois had brought me and then fly to Kansas.

***

As I flew over Smallville, I felt a sense of nostalgia. It had been so long since I had flown like that — I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

I landed in a field and walked up to my parents’ farmhouse, remembering how it had felt to run inside the house after school as a kid and look in the kitchen to see if Mom had made a pie or a batch of cookies. Those had been such blissful days…so unlike the last time I had flown to Smallville from South Africa.

When I went into the kitchen, I found Mom washing dishes. I stood there for a moment, smelling the apple pie she had baked earlier, likely in preparation for my arrival. A bittersweet sensation tugged at my heart, and I yearned for the innocence of my younger days. But the past could never be recaptured — only remembered.

Mom turned around and noticed me, her face filling with delight. She set her dish aside and stepped forward to hug me. But I had set up rules against even my parents touching me — out of guilt, out of worry, out of sadness…or maybe something else. I wasn’t sure. But deep down there was a part of me that felt I wasn’t worthy of human touch after what had happened in Africa — there was a part of me that wanted to punish myself as I protected others from being hurt by me. I just hated the emotional toll it was taking on my parents.

And so, I said quietly, sadly, to my mother, “No, Mom.”

Her face fell, and I could tell I had hurt her. Wanting to erase the pain, I said with a smile, “It smells good in here — I do get the whole pie to myself, don’t I?”

She grinned back at me. “Now, Clark, you know your father would never forgive either of us if we didn’t let him have at least a bite. He’s been in and out of here all day trying to sneak one, and it’s been all I can handle just to make him hold off till you get here.”

I chuckled. “All right — I guess I can share.” I just looked at her for a few seconds. “It’s good to see you again, Mom.”

“Oh, Clark, it hasn’t been that long,” she returned, but I could tell she was just as glad to see me as I was to see her. “But I must admit I was getting used to having you around.”

I smiled and then nodded my head toward a small white box and a bucket of paint on the counter. “Those my supplies?”

She turned to see what I was looking at. “That’s them all right,” she affirmed, sounding unenthused. “You might as well take that paint with you in case you ever need it. We have some more around here somewhere. We painted the box thoroughly earlier, so you shouldn’t have any problems taking it home.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She nodded toward my chest. “I see you have a new locket.”

I looked at it and clutched it in a fist. “Yeah. Lois gave it to me. I need to paint it.”

I took off my coat, and Mom got out some newspaper and a small paintbrush for me. As I started painting the outside of the locket on the newspaper, Mom asked casually, “So, tell me about this ‘Lois.’”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Lois Lane. I’ve admired her work for years, and I got paired on a story with her about the explosion of the Messenger.” I set down my paintbrush and dug in my coat pocket, pulling out the newspaper Lois had given me and the earlier edition Perry White had given me. I handed both to Mom, who — if I knew her like I thought I did — would be getting a subscription to the Daily Planet of her own soon. “I’m officially a part of the Planet now.”

She beamed at me, her eyes a little watery, and I could tell she was fighting the urge to hug me. She turned away and sat at the table to read the two articles while I finished with the locket’s outside and left it to dry. I sat next to her at the table and waited for her to speak.

“I’m so proud of you, Clark,” she said at last when she had finished reading.

I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

The emotion left her voice — likely because she could sense my discomfort — and she said, “So, tell me more about Lois Lane. You were partnered with her — that’s it?”

I laughed. “Just being with Lois is an experience, much less working with her. I think she has a nose for danger — it’s that investigative journalist in her. She’s — well, she’s controlling, uncompromising…stubborn…passionate. It reminds me of what Han Solo says in Star Wars — ’Either I’m going to kill her, or I’m beginning to like her.’”

Mom smiled. “Well, it sounds like she’s made quite an impression on you.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said, shaking my head. “Lois doesn’t so much leave impressions so much as bulldoze paths.” I chuckled to myself. That was an apt description of her if I’d ever heard of one.

“Do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. She’s — ” I stared at her, suddenly realizing how she’d meant it. “Mom — ”

“I just asked a simple question,” she said. “What you do with Lois is your own business.”

Fortunately, I was spared a reply by the opening of the door and the entrance of my father. “Clark!” he exclaimed as he came over. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” I told him. It was good to see him again, too.

“You staying for dinner?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

I turned to Mom, who was giving me a pleading look. “I guess so,” I answered. I had a feeling Mom wouldn’t really have given me a choice.

“Great — that means I’ll get home cooking,” Dad stated with obvious gladness.

“Not that he needs it,” Mom muttered.

I just rolled my eyes. “It’ll be the last time in a while. It’s great seeing you both again, but I just came here for the shard. The next time I come, it’ll be on a plane.… And I’m not sure when I’ll be able to afford that.”

Mom sighed, and I didn’t miss the look she exchanged with my father. “Clark.…”

“What?” I asked warily, knowing I wouldn’t like what she was about to say.

“When you told us you needed to be exposed every day to that stone in order to strip you of your powers, we didn’t like it, and we didn’t agree with your decision, but we chose to support you and help you however you needed us to. And as long as you think that meteor rock is the best option for you, we will continue to help you with it. We’ve helped you by giving you that first locket and chipping off bits of that horrid rock, and we’ll buy a hundred more lockets and chip at that stone a hundred more times if we have to.” She exhaled heavily. “You may want to use that meteor rock to help make you ‘normal,’ but Clark…normal for you isn’t normal.”

I sighed. “Mom, I could really hurt someone with my powers — ”

“But just think of all the people you could save,” she countered.

I shook my head slowly. “Mom, if I used my powers to help people — even if I didn’t hurt them — it could jeopardize the ones I love.” I stood and walked over to the window to look outside at nothing in particular. “Thanks, Mom,” I said softly. “I know you just want to help. But I’ve made my choice.”

She gave a heavy sigh, and I felt a stab of guilt. Changing the subject, I turned around and asked how the farm was doing.

We began talking more, and it was almost like old times.… Except somehow the topic of conversation continuously veered toward Lois Lane and my work with her. I wasn’t sure if it was me or Mom who kept bringing her up, but somehow or another I managed to brief Mom on almost every moment I had spent with Lois. I omitted, however, what that jerk Claude had done to Lois, knowing it had been told to me in confidence, but I certainly had a few choice words to describe him in my head.

Dad eventually had to go outside to do some more farm work, so Mom and I just continued talking. She caught me up on what was going on with the farm and Smallville in the few days since I had been gone. Not much had been happening with the farm, but Smallville was abuzz with gossip — apparently, some wealthy man from San Francisco had just moved to the small community and was the talk of the town. She asked for a few more details about Metropolis, and I gave them to her. After some time had gone by, Mom suggested an early dinner, and I agreed.

She began getting out her cooking supplies, and I went up to my locket and felt its exterior with a thumb. The paint was dry, so I turned it around and put a white coat on the locket’s inside. When that was done, I put my brush down and approached my mother.

“Mom, I need a picture of Grandma for my locket. Do you have one I can use?”

“I think I have one,” she said, frowning in thought, likely trying to recall where it was. “You take over the cutting here, and I’ll go look for it.”

I began chopping up vegetables at human speed. However, I didn’t feel I had to be particularly careful with the knife since I was presently invulnerable to everything but the meteor rock, so I was finished when she returned with the photograph and a pair of scissors.

“Here you go, Clark,” she told me as she set the items on the counter. There was a sense of distaste in her voice, but I knew exactly what the problem was and didn’t inquire. It wasn’t the locket she hated; it was the shard I wanted to be inside it.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said softly. I picked up the scissors and cut out my grandmother’s face from the picture, making sure it was just the right size for the locket. Then I set it next to the necklace and helped my mother more in the kitchen. Her mood began to improve as I jested with her a little, and when the food was almost done, she told me to go fetch my father. I was able to find him without any problems.

Dinner was sort of awkwardly quiet. We talked some, but it felt as if there was much left unsaid. The atmosphere got more pleasant when dessert was placed before us, and I could tell Dad was savoring every single bite of his apple pie.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said with a smile. “This was absolutely delicious. It definitely beats what I’ve been eating in Metropolis.”

“Any time you want a home-cooked meal, you just come and visit,” she said firmly. I refrained from arguing with her, though I knew I wouldn’t be returning any time soon.

Mom stood up. “I guess I’ll go put the shard in your locket, Clark. I’m sure it’s dry by now.” She grabbed the white box and the locket and left the room. She would try to get as far away from me in the house as she could so the shard wouldn’t affect me and prohibit my return flight to Metropolis. I knew she’d do that even without me requesting it.

When she came back, however, it wasn’t just with the locket. She also had the all-black outfit I had used several years ago for a few rare but necessary rescues. The outfit consisted of a pair of pants, a long-sleeved shirt, gloves, shoes, socks, and a ski hat, every item of which was solid black. I used to just pull the whole ski hat down over my face, not needing eye holes since I had x-ray vision. She set all the items on the table, and as I grabbed the locket and put it on over my head, I looked at her questioningly.

“I think you should wear these things when you fly back to Metropolis, Clark,” she said in a firm voice. “You can’t be up to full speed yet, and you should try not to be conspicuous.”

I considered what she had said as I stared at her. Though her face betrayed nothing, I suspected an ulterior motive. Still, I agreed anyway, “Okay, Mom.” There wasn’t much harm in taking the items with me. They were just clothes. How could they have any real significance?

After we were done eating our second helpings of pie, we went into the living room and talked for a little while longer. Finally, I went into my old bedroom and changed into the black outfit. Holding the ski hat and a black bag with a few personal items in it which I hadn’t been able to fit in my suitcase when leaving Kansas the last time, I approached them and said, “Mom, Dad…thanks for everything.”

“We love you, Clark,” Mom said softly.

Knowing she wanted to hug me but that I couldn’t let her, I turned away from them and replied, “I love you both, too.” And then I was out the door, pulling the ski hat down over my face and taking to the air with my bag clutched against my chest.

***

The Hotel Apollo wasn’t nearly as welcoming as my parents’ home, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on that when I arrived. Instead, I sat my stuff down and turned dutifully to the locket around my neck, preparing to expose myself to the shard hidden within.

But I found myself hesitating.

The colonist launch was in the morning…and there was a good chance that Lois was going to be on board. Did I want that?

No. No, I didn’t.

As much as she got on my nerves, there was a part of me which yearned to be with her. She brought out in me a feeling of life that I hadn’t experienced in a long time. When I was with her, I brooded less. I would verbally spar rather than keep my comments to myself. I felt — well, I felt hopeful.

And that was one of the reasons I wasn’t going to stop her from going on the transport vehicle, I reflected bitterly. I needed some distance from her — I was starting to develop feelings that were very dangerous for someone who couldn’t touch others. It would hurt when she was gone — but it was for the best.

Still, even though I wouldn’t stop her from going up into space, I did want to be available in case anything happened. I had a bad feeling about the launch — Dr. Baines just had to have someone working over her, and that someone was probably very unhappy.

Part of me thought it was Luthor. Who else could stand to gain from the destruction of the Messenger as much as he could? If he had been able to put his own space station in place, he would have made billions of dollars from the patents of vaccines developed…and people would have lauded him as the savior of the space program.

But I had no proof of his wrongdoing.… And in truth, I didn’t want to think the man I had saved from bleeding to death in an alley was guilty. That would mean that Luthor was responsible for the deaths of Commander Laderman, Dr. Platt, Dr. Baines and her lackey… and possibly even others. And it would also mean that if I had not saved Luthor, then those people might still be alive.

An invisible hand squeezed my heart, and I pushed those depressing thoughts out of my mind and gazed down at the black gloves covering my hands. At least I had my all-black outfit now. I would be able to get close to the transport vehicle in the morning to make certain that the launch went smoothly.

So why did the thought of the transport’s launching into space make my heart ache?

I opened my palm and let the locket inside fall against my chest. For tonight only, it would remain closed.

***

Chapter 10: If Tomorrow Wasn’t Such a Long Time … then Lonesome Would Mean Nothing to Me at All

If today was not an endless highway …

If tonight was not an endless trail …

If tomorrow wasn’t such a long time .. .

Then lonesome would mean nothing to me at all.

— “Tomorrow is a Long Time”

***

The next day, I woke up a few hours before dawn. My sleep had been restless.

While awake, I had been able to consciously deny at times that I was worried about Lois…but while asleep, my subconscious took control and filled my dreams with her.

I donned my black outfit and turned off the alarm clock, though it had never had a chance to buzz. Then, I made certain my locket was tucked beneath my clothes, as it wouldn’t be good for such an identifying feature to be visible if someone happened to see me. Pulling the ski hat all the way down over my face, I used my x-ray vision to ensure that I would be able to leave the Hotel Apollo without being seen.

I was at EPRAD in a flash, and I hid in a place that required floating but in which I would never be found unless someone was looking for a man dressed all in black who could fly.… And there was a fat chance of that.

It was early yet, but it was much better that I be too early to the launch than too late.

There was a lot of activity at EPRAD as people prepared for the launch of the transport vehicle, and at last I saw the colonists entering. Lois, as I had suspected, was with the rest of the group, but I almost didn’t notice her because she was wearing a blonde wig. I shook my head. Evidently, she didn’t want anyone to recognize her either.

I continued watching Lois’s progress to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble than she was in already. I saw her as she went into a small unoccupied room in the habitation module. I watched as she carefully strapped herself in. And then I noticed her gaze move to a blinking light.

To say that I was fast when I flew to the launch vehicle would be to relish in the use of an understatement. I was at the transport in the blink of an eye, worrying less about being conspicuous and more about saving the lives of the adults and children who had boarded the transport.

What happened next happened quickly as well.

I pried open the outer doors to the transport and reached Lois’s room just as she was unstrapping herself. She yelled something at me as I approached the bomb, but I didn’t pay any attention. Instead, I pulled the bomb from the wall and found the small plastic explosive inside. I thrust the explosive up underneath the ski hat covering my face and into my mouth, swallowing it and hoping that my powers had indeed fully returned.

After a millisecond’s hesitation, I grabbed Lois. She managed to start fighting me despite how quickly everything was happening, but I was stronger than her. I flew with her out of the vehicle at a speed that was fast but not dangerous to her. I deposited her in a safe place and returned to the launch vehicle. Then, I fixed the outer doors with my superhuman strength and heat vision.

The transport began to launch, and I felt the bomb explode inside me. I was unharmed, but I was unable to stop from belching, the action making me pause mid-flight. Then I continued flying away from EPRAD with one last backward glance, my heart pounding with fear at the reckless thing I had just done. Lois would be fine — and grounded on Earth. I wasn’t so sure how I would be.

I went back to my hotel room in the form of a blur too fast to be seen by human eyes. But I knew everything that had happened at EPRAD had been recorded by who knew how many video cameras…and broadcast live over countless televisions in several nations. And though the frames that had captured my form might not have been too much to worry about, I had physically carried the renowned reporter Lois Lane and given her enough time with me that she would at least be able to guess at my height. And it was possible I had also given something else away of myself that I wasn’t even thinking about.

I slowly changed into my work clothes, feeling numb. What had I done?

That was easy to answer. Something reckless. Something foolish.

There were so many ways my actions could have gone wrong. What if swallowing the bomb hadn’t worked? What if I had accidentally vaporized Lois by flying too fast? What if I hadn’t been able to fix the doors to the transport vehicle? What if my ski hat had come off? What if I had crushed one of Lois’s limbs in my haste to get her away from the transport?

Shaking, I took the phone off the hook — so my parents couldn’t call me — and buried my face in my hands. I shouldn’t have touched Lois Lane. I should have just left her on the colonist transport. She would have enjoyed it…and I would have been removed from her dangerous presence. But instead, I had returned her to Earth, effectively pulling her back into my life. And though it had been ever so brief, I had loved the feel of her in my arms. Being so close to her had felt so right. I hadn’t felt the softness of her skin through my gloves, but I had felt the gentle heat emanating from her body. Though I had held her only briefly, I had not wanted to let her go.

I jammed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t have been thinking such thoughts. I was toxic to her.… I was toxic to everyone. To think such things about Lois Lane was like blasphemy.

I lifted my head. I needed to return to normal.

Fumbling, I took off my locket and opened it. I gasped when the sudden barrage of pain hit me, and I forced my thumb to touch my grandmother’s picture. I groaned as I felt the searing sensation that was close exposure to the rock, and I removed my thumb.

A few seconds later, I let the locket drop into my lap, lessening my pain in some places but not removing it. As the poisonous radiation spread throughout my body, I found myself desperately wishing again that this didn’t have to be my life. But it had to be like this — I had decided that years ago. I couldn’t let myself put anyone in danger. I couldn’t let myself hurt anyone.

And so I let the pain grow. It swelled up to such heights that my grasp on consciousness became tenuous. But it was only when I was certain that my powers would be gone all day that I let myself close that tainted locket.

I collapsed on my bed, my chest heaving for air. And as my mind wandered, I remembered how I had come across the poisonous rock.

***

It was a Wednesday afternoon when Wayne Irig came knocking on my parents’ door.

With a smile, I told him, “Come on in.” I was always glad to see him.

“Hello, Clark, Martha,” he greeted as he entered. He always seemed glad to see us, too.

“Good afternoon, Wayne,” Mom said warmly. She was washing her hands to remove the extra bits of clay that had gotten stuck on them during her latest artistic venture. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Well, I have some trees that got knocked down by that storm last night, and I was wondering if I might get a little help in chopping them up. My back sure isn’t what it used to be.”

“I can help you,” I volunteered. Though only seventeen, I was really strong, and the work wouldn’t tire me in the slightest. I would just have to pretend it fatigued me.

Wayne smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Clark.” When I was younger, he might have tousled my hair, but I was too old for that now, and he seemed to respect that.

I rode in his red pickup truck with him to his farm, and we made short work of most of the trees. The last tree we went to was the big oak tree out in the back. It had been knocked clear out of the ground, and Wayne seemed sad as he told me about it, saying with a sigh, “That sure was a good tree.”

When we arrived at the tree, however, I felt a sudden growing pain in my body that just increased with every step I took. I tried to fight the pain — pain being something I hadn’t experienced in a long time — but at last I collapsed at the base of the tree, unable to move any further.

“Clark!” Wayne exclaimed, kneeling beside me.

I lifted my head and blinked at the hole in the ground where the oak tree had been. I could see a faint green light. “What…is that?” I gasped.

Wayne glanced at the hole and then frowned. He dug around a little in the dirt, uncovering more of the green rock and creating a brighter glow. Clearly, the stones had no effect on him at all. “Looks like some sort of green rock,” he noted.

I was getting sicker by the second. “I think…I think I need to go home.”

“All right, Clark,” he said, sounding worried. He somehow managed to half-drag and half-carry me away from the tree to his truck, manhandling me to help me inside.

I felt as if I needed to be making excuses for my sudden sickness, but I honestly didn’t know what had happened, and he didn’t seem inclined to question me about it. So instead I just sat in his truck and allowed myself to enjoy relief from that bombardment of pain as we drove away from his farm.

When we stopped in front of my parents’ house, Wayne said, “You just stay here, Clark.”

“I can walk,” I protested.

“Stay here,” he repeated firmly. He hopped out of the truck and rushed up to the door, knocking loudly. Both my parents answered, and I could see him speaking to them for a few seconds before they all came over to me. The frightened expressions my parents were wearing made me feel guilty, and I tried to smile at them in reassurance.

“Clark, are you all right?” Mom asked quietly as Wayne opened the door.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” I told her. Really, I was pretty scared. But I was trying to put on a brave front.

“Clark, we’re going to carry you out of the car,” Dad said.

“Dad, I can walk — ”

“Listen to your father, Clark,” Mom stated. After hearing her no-nonsense tone, I wasn’t about to argue with her.

Wayne and Dad helped me out of the vehicle and carried me into the house with Mom following. They took me to my room, and then they stood in the doorway and talked in worried whispers. I tried to hear what they were saying but was unable to. I felt almost as scared as I’d felt when my powers had first started showing themselves. Only now, it was the opposite. They had disappeared. What exactly had happened?

Finally, I called out for Dad to come to me, and he did.

In a voice as quiet as I could make it, I told him about the green stone and how I thought it had made me sick.

“Are you sure it was this stone, Clark?”

I nodded. “Pretty sure, Dad. I don’t know what it is, but I have a bad feeling about it.”

“All right,” he said, patting my hand.

Dad and Wayne left the house. When Dad returned, I was still in bed, more due to Mom’s insistence than anything. At that point, it was hard to comprehend how much I had been hurting.… But what was even stranger than that was the loss of my special abilities.

When Dad came in, he said, “How are you feeling, Clark? Your mom tells me you can’t use any of your powers.”

I stared at my hands in contemplation. “It just feels…weird to feel normal, you know?”

He nodded. “I understand, son.… I want you to know, I picked up every piece of that green rock I could find, and Wayne didn’t say much about it. I put it in the barn — I didn’t know what else to do with it. I figured maybe we can learn more about it later. Mostly, I’m just glad you’re all right.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad.” I was so glad I had my parents to help me out. They didn’t care that I was different.

***

Later, by means of an ancient toolbox, we had chanced upon the discovery that lead blocked the meteor rock’s effect on me, just as it had prevented me from seeing through certain objects. Knowing about the rock was a blessing to me in a way, however, even at that first exposure. Somehow, it had stripped me of my powers. I had thought — and even secretly hoped, just a little — that the rock’s effect on me was permanent that first time. Though the effects had turned out to be only temporary, there was a part of me even then that realized it was good there was something out there that could render me powerless…and block out the cries for help that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

With a sad smile, I lifted my locket into the air and placed the necklace around my neck. The locket dropped down onto my tie and hung there like a shackle. It would be there for the rest of my life, bringing what I wanted so close to me, but still not enabling me to have it. I would be lonely today, and the next day, and the next.… And that was just how it would be. That was how it would always be.

I had some time to just rest and pull myself together, but finally I needed to leave for work. I probably should have looked for a television or called my parents — just so I could be prepared for the onslaught that was sure to await me at the Daily Planet — but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

As I got into a cab and told the driver to take me to the Planet, I still felt as if my legs had been knocked out from under me. This had been the second time I’d been forced to make physical contact with Lois Lane in only a matter of days. It could not bode well for the future. Especially since I had liked it so much.

***

Chapter 11: A Memory from the Past Came Slowly Stealing …

A memory from the past came slowly stealing …

— “I Can’t Help It”

***

When I entered the newsroom, I found Lois arguing with Mr. White. Knowing I might as well dive right in, I moved closer to them to watch and listen.

The Chief Editor shook his head vehemently. “I’m telling you, honey, this ‘Black Speck’ has to be some kind of hoax.”

“And I’m telling you, Perry, he’s real. I flew with the man. The scientists at EPRAD may not be sure exactly what happened, but I know.… He broke into the transport vehicle, swallowed the bomb planted on board, flew me away from the transport, and then welded the doors back together before flying off.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would he take you off the colonist transport and dump you elsewhere without any explanation?”

“Maybe the man thought that I had planted the bomb. How am I supposed to know what his motives are? The guy didn’t even talk!”

“Which brings me to another question,” Perry White said, lifting a finger. “How do you even know it was a man?”

Lois gave him a look. “Trust me — I know.”

I couldn’t help but blush. Not wanting to listen any longer, lest their talk cause my nerves to skyrocket any more than they already had, I moved away and went to get some coffee.

Just as I had finished putting sugar and creamer into my cup, Lois approached me.

“Well, Kent, it looks like our work today is cut out for us.”

“Clark,” I mumbled, though my heart wasn’t really in the correction.

“Clark,” she repeated impatiently. “Perry wants us to find as much on the Black Speck as possible.”

I couldn’t help but ask, “Black Speck?”

Her frustration appeared to be growing with my lack of knowledge. “Yes. That’s what they’re calling him. You do know what happened today with the colonist launch vehicle, don’t you?”

“So, we’re supposed to find everything we can on the Black Speck?” I asked, driving the subject away from whether I held or lacked knowledge of the morning’s events.

“Yes. We need to get a hand on every video, every eyewitness account — you name it. If someone knows anything about the Black Speck, then we need to know it, too.” She was in full investigative reporter mode.

Something suddenly occurred to me, and I queried, “What exactly do you mean by ‘we?’”

“This story is so big Perry is pairing us up. I don’t like it any more than you do — in fact, I like it less — but I’m not going to sit here and argue all day with him till the proverbial Kansas cows come home. Not when the news is this big.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Now, do you have a problem working with me?” She poked her finger into my chest.

“No,” I murmured, taken aback by the unexpected physical contact. “I just thought you worked alone.” I had to keep myself from bringing up a hand to cover the spot where she had just touched me. It was strange how the sensation seemed to linger.

She suddenly tilted her head, looking at my shirt. “Is that the locket I gave you?”

I glanced down; I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to tuck the necklace in before leaving my hotel room. “Yeah, it is.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you painted it white?”

“It was my grandmother’s favorite color,” I told her. But that was a lie. Her favorite color had been blue.

“Makes sense,” she acknowledged, patting me on the chest absentmindedly, and then she continued to work on preparing her coffee.

My white lie to Lois began to agitate me, and I walked to my desk to get away from her. But she was soon behind me and informing me of what little she knew about the Black Speck. Pushing my agitation aside, I let myself go to work. We began calling people and sending Jimmy on various quests. Before long, we were going over videos and screenshots and making a few more calls to people at EPRAD. Finally, we were able to write something up for the Planet, and we presented it to the Editor-in-Chief.

We waited as he read it. When he was done, he set it down and looked up at us. “This is good work, you two, but I just don’t like the name ‘Black Speck.’ Other news places may be using it, but we have someone who was on the scene.… Surely, we can do a little better than this.”

Lois and I exchanged a glance. Then she suggested, “What about ‘Black Knight’?”

Mr. White pointed a pair of fingers at her. “That’ll work.”

I shifted my feet uncomfortably. I didn’t like my actions being painted as knightly, though I did feel the appellation of “Black Knight” was appropriate in some ways. A black knight historically was a knight who wasn’t bound to a certain lord or who did not want his real identity known. But while I certainly did not want to be identified, I would have preferred never to have been noticed at all.

A few minutes later, I was leaving the room with Lois when Mr. White called out for me to wait. I turned and looked at him questioningly.

“Kent, do you, uh, have any plans tonight?”

I hesitated. “Not particularly.”

“Good! Then you won’t mind doing some socializing with your boss.”

“Uh — ”

“So, I’ll see you in the conference room at nine, then — for the game?”

“The game?” I echoed uneasily.

“Just some ol’ newspaper cronies sharing a few beers and laughs. It’ll be fun.”

“Umm, Mr. White — ”

He looked at me. “You do play cards, don’t you, Kent?”

I dipped my head. “Yes, sir, I do.”

“Well, we’re out a player, and I think you’ll do just fine. Ever played much poker, son?”

“In my college days, I did play,” I admitted.

“Good!” he exclaimed, pleased. “Then maybe you’ll be able to give Lois a run for her money. That girl is too competitive for her own good.”

“Lois is going to be there?” I asked uneasily.

He shook his head with a smile. “Shoot, son, she only misses our monthly poker night when it’s a matter of life and death.… And with her, that’s more often than both she and I would like to admit.”

“Mr. White, maybe I should pass tonight — ”

“Now, Kent, I’m not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. You should really get out more.”

“But it won’t be getting out, Mr. White,” I pointed out. “The game’s at the Plan — ” I cut off after seeing the look on his face. “All right,” I said with no small amount of reluctance. “I’ll be a team player.”

“I hope not — if you and Lois team up against the rest of us, I doubt we’ll stand a chance,” he quipped.

I rolled my eyes and left his office. I had been roped into this — there was no way I could say “no” to the boss. I would just have to go and get it over with.

Lois glanced at me curiously as I walked to my desk, and I muttered, “Looks like I’ll be playing poker tonight.”

She gave me the once-over. “I didn’t know they taught card games to wholesome Kansas boys.”

“And I didn’t know award-winning investigative journalists had time for them,” I returned. “Guess we learn something new every day.”

That actually got a smile from her, and I found myself feeling pleased.

***

I went home before the big poker game, figuring I should change into something more comfortable and call my parents, who more likely than not had seen me posted all over the news. And I was right — no sooner had I called them than my mother instantly started asking me what this “Black Speck” business was. Apparently, they had wanted to talk to me about it all day but hadn’t wanted to bug me at work. Honestly, it was good they hadn’t — it wasn’t the sort of thing that would be easy to talk to them about in the newsroom.

“I just couldn’t let all those people die,” I told them with a sigh. “Not after we had worked so hard in trying to make everything perfect for them.”

“Maybe you should keep trying to rescue people,” Mom suggested. “After all, what’s a little more exposure?”

Dad was about to say something, but I cut him off. “No. I’m not going to start saving people. It’s too dangerous.”

Mom asked casually, “You said Lois Lane was on the transport vehicle?”

“Yeah — and I don’t know why I took her off it. It was just one of those spur-of-the-moment things. I had to make a decision quickly, and that was what I chose. I just don’t know why I did it. It would have been easier if I had just left her there.” A lot easier, actually. If I’d left her, I wouldn’t still be thinking about how she had felt in my arms.

“How did Lois feel about being taken away from it by the Black Speck?”

“Well, they’re calling him — me — the ‘Black Knight’ now.… At least, the Planet is. But it doesn’t matter. They aren’t going to see me do anything like that ever again.”

“And Lois?” Dad pressed.

I smiled as I thought of that fiery woman. “She is determined to find out everything about the Black Knight that she can. If it weren’t for the fact that my rescue days are over, I might be worried that she would discover my true identity eventually.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell a woman your secret at some point when you decide to settle down,” Mom said offhandedly.

I clenched my fists. I hated retreading this ground. “No, Mom. How could I ever marry anyone? I couldn’t — I just couldn’t.”

“Clark — ”

“It isn’t anything I can ever consider,” I said firmly, feeling a little calmer after my outburst. “I need to get off here — I have to get ready. We’re having a poker night at the Planet.”

After we said our goodbyes, I turned to my locket. I needed a little more exposure to the meteor rock if I was going to be around people that night. But my thumb hesitated on top of the locket.

I remembered how emotionally distraught I had felt when I had come home from South Africa — my mental pain had been far worse than the physical pain I had felt during my first exposure to the meteor rock. After returning from Africa, I had spent countless hours up in my childhood treehouse — the Fortress of Solitude — before my parents had even known I was home. But my dad had been walking by the tree and heard me crying. He had come up in the treehouse, obviously concerned, and he had moved to embrace me, but I had half-growled and half-sobbed for him to stay away. In confusion, he had sat down on the floor across from me. Then, he had asked me what was wrong. But I couldn’t tell him. I had known then that I could never tell him.

I had said that I was leaving — that I was going to go spend the rest of my days in Antarctica — and he had tried valiantly to convince me otherwise. He was finally able to persuade me to leave the Fortress of Solitude and talk with my mother. When I told her I had to go away forever, she had looked so hurt, so heartbroken…and I had hated myself for doing that to her. But during all that, something occurred to me. It was strange how a lifeline came to me in the form of a bringer of death, but that was how it was. I had remembered the meteor rock and its ability to strip away my powers. And I had known it would be the thing that would keep me from ever seeing that awful look on my mother’s face again.

My parents had argued with me for what seemed like hours on end, and more than a few tears had been shed. But I had been adamant, and they had eventually backed down. The idea to place part of the meteor rock in a locket hadn’t occurred to me until later, but when I had finally gained my parents’ mixed blessing, I had marched straight to my father’s supply of the glowing green stone and experienced that awful pain for the second time in my life.

Now, I couldn’t count how many times I had used it. It would probably just depress me if I tried.

But that harmful stone was the only thing that stood between me and a solitary life. As much as I hated it, I knew it would need to be a part of my life forever if I was going to live among humans. Their vulnerability was my vulnerability.

With a sad smile, I opened the locket for what felt like the ten thousandth time.

***

Later that night, I plopped a pretzel in my mouth and then put two more chips in the pot. “Twenty.”

The Planet conference room was filled with a cloud of smoke courtesy of one of the poker player’s cigars, and the table was littered with food containers and drink cans. Everything seemed to have been building up to this one moment.

Lois stared at me hard, trying to read my mind. But I just gazed back at her with a blank expression, privately amused. Finally, she sighed and threw down her cards. “I fold.”

I turned to the Editor-in-Chief. Everyone else had already ducked out of the hand. He was studying me, trying to find my tell, but I wasn’t giving him anything. My cards were flat on the table. Jimmy, who wasn’t participating in the game, was standing near the table and glancing occasionally at people’s cards, and I didn’t want him giving anything away, so I had made sure he wouldn’t be able to see my hand. My eyes locked with Perry White’s, and I saw a little flicker that I suspected was his tell.

The pot was at its biggest. I had lost some minor hands and won some bigger ones, but we were approaching the end of the night’s game, and this hand was an important one. It was especially important for me, as I couldn’t really afford to lose the money.

He glanced at his hand and then threw two of his own chips into the pot. “I see your twenty, and I raise you…fifty.”

I kept my expression stony, but my heart was racing. I’d never intended for it to become this steep. But I was already way in over my head, so I needed to just go for it. I put the necessary chips into the pot and said, “All right. I call.”

We revealed our hands, and I nearly sighed in relief when I learned that my full house beat his pair. The Editor-in-Chief had been bluffing in an attempt to make the pot too rich for my blood. But I hid my feeling of relief with a tight smile as I raked in the chips. Still — despite my fear, it had been exhilarating to go head-to-head with Perry White. I could feel a weird camaraderie swelling up between all of us present at the table. It felt good.

“Now, where did a farmboy like you learn to play like that?” Lois asked, adjusting the visor on her head.

“No kidding, C.K.,” Jimmy seconded. “I kept looking for your tell, but if you have one, I can’t find it.”

“We played a lot of poker at the study abroad program I went to one summer,” I told them with a shrug. “I didn’t know much going in, but someone there was pretty good and taught me a lot.”

“Well, maybe you can teach me,” Jimmy said eagerly, and I smiled at him.

“He’s not that good,” Lois muttered, though I had been able to see several times that she was impressed with me.

We played a few more minor hands before I bowed out gracefully, my pockets heavier than they had been when I arrived. As I left, I briefly thought back to South Africa — and to the friends I’d had there.

***

After another miserable loss at poker, I must have looked rather glum, as Carrie took pity on me and asked me to go on a walk with her. We went outside to the university courtyard and stared up at the stars as we strolled along, making idle chitchat.

Finally, she cut to the chase. “Kenny and Anthony can be pretty overwhelming sometimes.”

I shrugged. “They don’t mean to be. Joking with people just comes naturally to them.”

“Well, I know it doesn’t feel good to lose every hand of poker to those two jesters.”

“That’s for sure,” I agreed with a chuckle. “They don’t mind rubbing their wins into people’s faces.” It did occasionally sting a little.

“Well, how about I give you some pointers?” she asked. “I’m not a bad poker player myself.”

I stopped and looked at her. “Not bad?” I echoed. “You’re amazing. Don’t think I haven’t notice that you generally just let them win the small hands. The big ones almost always go to you.”

“That’s why I need you to offer me some competition,” she said with a grin. “So, whaddaya say? Care to learn some tips from a pro?”

“Is the pope a Catholic?” I returned. “Of course I want to.”

“Good,” she said, pleased. “Then let’s start right now. There’s no time like the present.”

***

Carrie had taught me so much about poker that night. Afterward, my head had simply been brimming with newfound knowledge. The next time I had played with Kenny and Anthony, they had certainly been in for a big surprise. After that, they were determined to beat me just as badly as I had beaten them, but they were never able to, not even after they had proclaimed it to be their solemn duty. One time, I had been tempted to use my x-ray vision to cheat in a quickly escalating game. But I had forced myself to refrain from it and just went with my gut instincts. The game had ended well for me, but I had never again come as close to cheating with my special abilities as I had at that time.

Even before I had gotten good, those poker nights had been fun. We Americans had made a pretty close-knit group at the Rand Afrikaans University (or “RAU” for short) and had come to the summer study abroad program from all over the United States. I was the only one who hailed from Kansas, but I didn’t get labeled “farmboy” (not that the term wouldn’t have been deserved) just because there was someone there from Georgia who made an even easier target. But despite whatever differences we may have had, we had all bonded through the similarity of our nationality…and through those poker nights. Though the taint of apartheid was not completely gone and a lot of tension still existed, a few South African students had even become a part of our circle, largely because Anthony and Kenny were just as welcoming as they were amusing. When I had found that I was able to quickly pick up languages — something that I had begun suspecting in high school Spanish — I had even begun encouraging our African friends to speak in languages other than English, much to their amusement. I was quick to pick up on African languages like Afrikaans and Zulu, though I tried not to show just how fluent I was becoming.

South Africa had been an enjoyable experience for me right up until the day before I left and cut my study abroad short. But I forced my mind away from that. I couldn’t change the past, even though I would have given anything if that could be one of my powers.

And so, trying to keep my mind focused on the present and deciding that I wouldn’t be participating in any more of the monthly poker nights lest they conjure up even more painful memories, I returned to my hotel room and went to sleep. I had no bad dreams that night.

***

Chapter 12: Your Past is Catching up and Closing In

There’s something hanging in the wind.

Your past is catching up and closing in.

You’ve been halfway to hell and back again.

— “Charro”

***

A few weeks went by.

Lois and I kept being partnered on stories. I wasn’t sure if it was mostly Perry White or mostly circumstance that kept pairing us together, but we managed to investigate a few major criminal operations. Somehow or other (probably because Lois was a magnet for trouble), we got into danger a few times and would have died if not for some quick thinking on both our parts. As the days went by, however, I began to get more and more agitated about not using my powers — and I felt as if I were seeing criminals at every corner trying to kill Lois.… Considering how many people she’d helped put in jail, my paranoia wasn’t necessarily that far off the mark.

It didn’t help with my state of mind that Lois occasionally mentioned her dates with Lex Luthor. I tried hard to dismiss my annoyance, but it was difficult. I couldn’t let go of the thought that there was something wrong with the man. Even though he had been nothing but kind to me on the few occasions I had talked with him, there was something in his eyes and his voice that made me uneasy. How had he climbed so high after being so low, anyway? The circumstances behind his rise were shrouded in mystery. None of his biographies really shed any light on the issue according to Jimmy, and so it remained an unsolved mystery to me.

I was staring at my desk in thought and frowning when a female voice caused me to look up. “So, do you like your new apartment?”

I nodded and gave Lois a grateful smile. “Yes, I do — thank you for that.” One of her contacts had found the apartment for me. It was cheap, which was good, but it had been a real fixer-upper. I had initially tried remodeling it at human speed, but it had been such a chore that I had eventually given up — not wanting to live in such filth for any longer — and remodeled it at extra-human speed, taking care to time my activities on a weekend when I wouldn’t be in contact with anyone, though it meant I had to turn down a request from Jimmy to go to the movies with him.

“He said it was a dump, but I bet it was nothing a little elbow grease couldn’t take care of.”

“Something like that,” I returned, feeling a little guilty. My “elbow grease” had been a little less intense than most people’s would have been.

Her eyes moved away from me, and she sighed, her mind obviously concerned with something else.

“What is it?” I asked her. I was getting better at reading her moods, and I could tell something was wrong.

She turned to me and shrugged. “I guess I’m just annoyed.”

I sat back. “Annoyed? Why?” I braced myself in case it was something I had done.

“It’s the Black Knight.…”

The name made me flinch, and I queried with caution, “What about him?” While the name she had picked out had caught on quickly since he — or, rather, I — hadn’t reappeared, the media frenzy had begun to die out since no new news had popped up.

She began, “I’m annoyed that the Black Knight — ” (I winced again, though I tried to hide it) “ — isn’t out doing things to help people. Metropolis needs him. Do you know how high the crime rate is in the city, Kent?”

“Clark,” I reminded her.

“Clark,” she repeated. “He could do so much good.”

I shifted in my chair, trying to hide my discomfort. “But what if he…wants to live his own life?” Or what if he was scared to hold ultimate power in his very strong but very fallible hands? I thought. What about the possibilities that constantly haunted me? What if they actually happened? After all, I had simply removed Lois from the transport without asking permission. What was to keep me from exercising control over others like that again?

“It’s selfish of him,” she stated bluntly, taking me aback. “If he really does have these special abilities, then he owes it to the world to use them for good. For instance, take Lex.”

“Lex?” I echoed with a raised brow. Of course this would all somehow come back to him.

“Yes, Lex. He has the gift of money, and he uses it to do a lot of good in the city — he uses it to help people.”

I masked my annoyance. “Maybe people like us are the reason the Black Knight doesn’t want to go public. Maybe he doesn’t want the publicity.… Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to reporters.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she proclaimed. “Why wouldn’t he want to talk to me?”

I just rolled my eyes and turned away from her, looking back at the notes on my desk concerning the retirement scandal story I was working on. It was one of my solo pieces, and I was determined for it to be good. Lois could obsess about the Black Knight all she wanted. He wouldn’t be saving anyone ever again. At least, not with his powers.

***

The next week was a slow news week. The Black Knight wasn’t out saving anyone, as I was keeping up my daily exposure to the glowing green meteor rock. I was resolute that I would be putting my black ski hat away forever.

When Perry White came up to my desk, I thought it was to tell me about another story he wanted me and Lois to work on. We had been paired on more and more assignments, and we were beginning to take our partnership for granted, even if the Editor-in-Chief did still give us some individual pieces.

“Hey, Mr. White,” I greeted with a smile. “Something you need?”

“Clark, I think we’re past this by now. It’s ‘Perry’ or ‘Chief,’ all right?”

I nodded. “Right…Chief.” It was a little hard for me to refrain from saying “Mr. White” — but he was right that we were past formalities. He wasn’t just an employer any more. He had become — in just a short time — a friend.

His expression turned thoughtful as he turned to the real purpose of his visit to my desk. “You know, son, you’re really good with the, uh, touchy feely stuff, if you know what I mean. That adoption piece you did a few days ago was great stuff.”

“Uh, thanks,” I replied uncomfortably. I didn’t know what he was about to ask me, but I had the feeling I wasn’t going to like where this was going.

The pensive expression remained on his face. “I was, uh, thinkin’…maybe you could write a — well, a letter of sorts for the Planet.”

“A letter, sir — uh, Chief?” I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion.

“Well — a plea for the Black Knight to return.”

The words were innocent enough, but his eyes seemed to be staring into my soul. Nonetheless, his words made me flinch — just as I did every time the name “Black Knight” was mentioned — and I then stiffened. “Chief, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I mean — how do we even know he reads the Planet? And isn’t he…old news?” My last sentence was uttered meekly. I knew he certainly wouldn’t be old news if he reappeared. Still, I wanted to get out of this assignment.

“Chief, let me write it,” came an insistent female voice.

I turned to look at Lois. Evidently, she’d been listening to our conversation. Under other circumstances, my discovery of her eavesdropping might have irked me or at least made me exasperated. This time, however, I was glad. Unfortunately, Perry White wasn’t.

He crossed his arms and gave her a reprimanding glance. “Now, Lois, I didn’t ask for you to do it. I asked Clark to do it.”

“And you heard him say he doesn’t want to do it. I, on the other hand, would be absolutely — ”

“Lois, honey, I’m not giving it to you,” the Chief Editor said firmly. He turned to me. “Clark, please come with me to my office.”

Hanging my head like a kid in trouble with the principal, I followed him in and sat down. Meek and somber, I stared at my hands. All the strength in the world wouldn’t be able to extricate me from this situation.

“Now, son, Elvis relied heavily on Colonel Parker’s advice. If the Colonel said, ‘Jump,’ then the King said, ‘From where?’ But there was one big exception to that. You see, when the King went into the movie business, his musical reputation started to plummet. The Comeback Special of 1968 changed all that, though. The Colonel wanted the King to sing only Christmas songs in the show, but the producer, Steve Binder, suggested that he sing his old hits.… Now, the King wasn’t one to stand against the Colonel, but he knew this was something he needed to take a stand on, and he told the Colonel he was doing it ‘Binder’s way.’” The Chief Editor tilted his head and lifted his hands. “But at that point, the King had been around the block quite a bit. He had risen high enough that he could make a few calls of his own. Do you, uh, get what I’m sayin’?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered quietly. I wasn’t at the height of my career; I was just starting. And if I wanted to make it big, I had to do what my “Colonel Parker” told me to do. Even if it meant I would be miserable doing it.

“Now, do you have anything to tell me?” he asked.

The question was casual enough, but the gaze he gave me set my heart to pounding. He knows, I couldn’t help but think, though I couldn’t even comprehend how he could know.

Shakily, I told him, “N-no.”

“Uh huh,” he said, still looking at me. “Now, son, I didn’t become editor of this newspaper just because I can yodel. I’ve noticed that you jump every time the Black Knight is mentioned.”

I couldn’t help it; I flinched again.

“Is there something you’ve done that you regret, Clark? Or maybe there’s something you know that I need to know?”

I forced myself to meet his eyes with my own. Taking a deep breath, I told him firmly, “I will write the plea to…the Black Knight.”

He nodded, and as I left his office, my mind was reeling. I wasn’t sure what he knew or what he suspected — and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. It was certainly feasible that a man like him could put the pieces together — my reaction to the term “Black Knight,” the reluctance I expressed when asked to write about him, and the fact that Lois had been removed from the colonist transport.… It wasn’t a complicated puzzle for a newspaper man like Perry White.

But that just made it all the more important that the Black Knight never show his face again.

As I went to my computer, I couldn’t help but notice that Lois was sulking. It might have been amusing if it weren’t for the fact that I was dreading the piece before me. As it was, however, I was on edge. I didn’t want to do this.

I sat and stared at the screen, tapping my finger against the down arrow on the keyboard nervously. I was going to have to think about the good aspects of my persona if I was going to be able to make this piece into what the Editor-in-Chief wanted — and thinking about the good of that alternate ego was something I was continually fighting against. But I was stuck between the metaphorical rock and a hard place.

Not certain what the final product was to look like, I began writing a header:

TO THE BLACK KNIGHT:

METROPOLIS NEEDS YOU

What a joke that was. Metropolis had gotten along fine for years without a vigilante’s meddling. What made now any different?

I sighed. This wasn’t the way to get this done. I had to just plunge in. Still, I changed the header:

A CRY FOR HELP:

BLACK KNIGHT, WHERE ARE YOU?

Trying not to think about the irony of my being the person to write that question, I continued typing:

We do not know all you can do, but speed, flight, and strength seem to be your allies. Do you know how much good you could do with those abilities?

As much good as bad, I reflected. I could just as easily hurt people as help them — hurting people would actually be easier. And the notion of someone’s controlling me was enough to make me feel sick to my stomach.

I swallowed and thought back to what Lois had said. Was it selfish of me not to use my powers for good? Was Lois right?

Feeling off balance, I returned to my article and wrote:

You could stop a runaway train with your bare hands or take a gun away from a criminal before he had a chance to use it. The crime rates in a city like Metropolis are astronomical. You could serve as a beacon of hope shining in the darkness. You could prove to the people of Metropolis that one person can make a difference.

I worked on the article for a while. The process disturbed me, as it made me confront everything I was mentally arguing against, but I wanted to prove myself to Perry White. The final version looked somewhat different from those first few bits I had written, but the heart of it remained. I continued my plea for me — well, the Black Knight side of me — to return and make a difference in the lives of others.

I was staring at the letter and trying to determine whether I should change a few sentences when the Chief Editor came and stood in front of Lois’s and my desks. My desk had been moved closer to Lois because of our constantly renewing partnership, so he was able to talk to both of us without yelling (though I wasn’t quite sure Perry White knew how to talk in a quiet voice unless an Elvis yarn was involved that required it).

He threw a fancy invitation down next to Lois’s monitor. “Lois, Clark, I want you two to go to the Magic of the Night Ball tonight to cover it for the society section.”

“Perry, no,” Lois protested in disgust.

“Chief, isn’t there someone else who can do it?” I asked.

The Editor-in-Chief frowned. “What’s that I hear? ‘Yes, sir, right away, sir’? Surely that’s what I’m hearing. I couldn’t possibly be hearing two of my reporters tell me ‘no.’”

“Perry, you know I don’t like magic,” Lois insisted.

“Neither do I,” I chimed in.

“Well, tough. You’re both going to have to come up with a better excuse than that. I’m your commander, and I command you to go. It’s that simple.”

Lois made one last attempt. “Couldn’t you get Ralph to do it?”

“Lo-is,” he said warningly.

“Fine, Chief. But you’d better remember this come promotion time.”

I wasn’t sure whether to smirk or grimace, so instead I just sighed. I hated magic.

***

Lois and I went to the Magic of the Night Ball with Jimmy, who was excited to have a night out away from the Planet. Lois and I weren’t happy about going to the show, but we weren’t about to disobey Perry White’s direct order. In investigative journalism, a reporter had to choose certain battles with the boss — and avoiding a magic show wasn’t a fight worth risking a career over.

Colorful fliers outside the Magic Club proclaimed the magnificence of the event and gave details of the buildings’ creators; in contrast, the atmosphere of the building’s interior was simply brimming with magic in a way that the outside was lacking. Once, I had relished the thought of magicians and hypnotists and illusionists; now, I dreaded them all.

Much to Jimmy’s disappointment, we sat at a table as far back from the stage as we could get. Lois was vocal in declaring her hatred of magic, but I mostly remained stiff and tightlipped. Poor Jimmy kept trying to counter Lois’s anti-magic arguments, but he wasn’t able to gain any ground in convincing her that magic had any benefits. I certainly wasn’t about to help him out.

After the passing of just a few acts, I was more than ready to leave, but I held my tongue and remained seated. When it was announced that the “greatest illusionist alive” was about to come onto the stage, I just became even more uncomfortable. It was bad enough to have to sit through mediocre magicians — to see one actually worth his mettle was even more nerve-wracking.

“An illusionist,” Lois repeated in disgust, “as in someone who tries to trick people into believing that something that isn’t real is real.”

“That’s part of the fun,” Jimmy insisted, though both Lois and I ignored him.

I tilted my head and looked at Lois as I realized something. “You don’t like magic because you don’t know how it works.” Her lack of a response simply made me more confident. “You can’t stand the thought of not knowing, can you?”

“Don’t you find it a little bothersome that these people get paid to try to trick people?” she returned, speaking in a furious whisper. Darren Ronick, the so-called “greatest illusionist alive,” was paying a lot of attention to audience members, and she was trying not to catch his attention.

“That’s…not exactly what bothers me,” I answered hesitatingly. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I couldn’t tell the truth. I was about to formulate a plan for a change in subject when Darren Ronick called for the “lovely Constance” to come up on stage. My head shot up, and I watched as she walked on.

Her hair was just as blonde as when I had seen it last, though her outfit — all glamour and feathers — left much to be desired. But I wasn’t concentrating on her body. I was concentrating on controlling the urge to flee. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized she was living in Metropolis.

Our eyes met across the crowded room, and she faltered. It was barely perceptible, but there was a small hitch in her step. She continued on with her act, however, without returning her eyes to me. It was just as well, for it took me the rest of the act to calm my heartbeat down to normal levels.

When Darren Ronick was finished, I immediately stood to leave, but Lois asked me, “Clark — what are you doing? We still have another act to watch.”

“Lois…,” I hesitated. My eyes flicked toward the exit and then back toward her. “I really don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Is something wrong?” she queried, rising so she could see me better.

“Clark,” a quiet voice said from behind me.

It was all I could do to keep from cursing. Reining my emotions in, I slowly turned to look at Constance.

Her expression told me all I needed to know. I felt a vice grip on my heart. I needed to go.

“I’m so glad to see you, Clark,” she told me with the utmost softness. She reached a hand out, moving it toward me —

“Don’t touch me,” I growled abruptly.

Constance jumped in surprise at my vitriol, and Lois stepped forward. “He doesn’t like to touch people,” she explained, giving me a confused look. “You’ll have to forgive him.” What she didn’t realize was that I didn’t want Constance’s forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, Clark,” Constance whispered.

My mouth a thin line, I told her, “Forget about it.” I moved away from her, approaching the exit.

“Clark, please don’t go,” she pleaded, following me. “Clark — I love you.”

I just shook my head and continued walking. I needed to get away from her.

But she rushed up to me. “Clark, I promise you didn’t do it. I was the one who did it.… I was going to make you do it — but I just couldn’t.… Clark, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’ve missed you so much.” She began to tug at my arm, but I slowly removed her fingers from me and walked away.

Perhaps her words should have given me the comfort she thought they would. But I couldn’t let myself trust anything she said, and I paused in the doorway to tell her, “I never want to see you again.”

I just barely heard her whisper my name before I left the room.

Outside the Magic Club, I allowed myself to halt my flight. I stood on the sidewalk, looking at nothing, and trembled with emotion. I felt so many things at once I could almost burst.

I desperately needed to be alone, but Lois had followed me outside. “What just happened?” she demanded. When I didn’t respond, she tried a softer approach. “Is she the reason you don’t like to touch people?”

I should have just said nothing; I didn’t owe Lois any explanations. But instead, I told her, “She’s only part of the reason.”

And then I hailed a taxi and refused to say anything more to her than, “Goodbye, Lois. Tell Jimmy ‘goodnight.’”

***

That night in my apartment, I took the green shard out of my locket with my bare hands and clenched it in my fist for about a minute, my face strained with pain, before I put the shard back in the locket and flung both on the floor.

Then I went to my bed and cried.

***

Chapter 13: If I can Dream

There must be peace and understanding sometime,

Strong winds of promise that will blow away

All the doubt and fear.

If I can dream of a warmer sun

Where hope keeps shining on everyone,

Tell me why, oh why, oh why won’t that sun appear?

— “If I can Dream”

***

The next day, I was working on a small piece at the Planet when Jimmy came up to my desk.

“Hey, C.K.,” he said quietly. He looked as if he felt a little awkward talking to me, and I could guess the reason why.

“Hi, Jimmy,” I responded feebly, feeling morose and exhausted. I’d barely slept a wink after seeing Constance. Too much had come flooding back to me.

Jimmy rubbed his arm. “I, uh — I heard a little bit of the stuff between you and that woman at the Magic Club. You don’t want to talk about it, do you?”

I shook my head and sighed. “No, Jimmy. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, C.K. I understand. It’s just — I know what it’s like to have the past sneak up on you.”

I looked up at him, surprised to see the emotional pain spread across his face. I knew instantly Jimmy also had wounds that ran deep.

His story just confirmed it. “See, last year my dad came and visited me. I hadn’t seen him in eight years. He had always been in and out of my life, but that was the longest he’d ever been gone.… I finally told myself I wouldn’t ever see him again — and then there he was.”

“That must have been tough,” I said softly. At least I had always had both my parents in my life — well, they were technically my adoptive parents. But they had been better parents than any biological ones I had ever met.

“Yeah. It was rough. And I said some really mean things to him. Maybe they’ll encourage him to come back sooner next time — or maybe they won’t.” He shook his head bitterly. “After all, what is he going to see when he comes to visit me? A copy boy at the bottom of the food chain. Replaceable, expendable…an all-around nobody.”

“Jimmy, you mean a lot to this paper,” I insisted firmly and sincerely. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. Don’t underestimate your contributions to it — you’ll climb up higher on the ladder one day. You’ll see.”

He gave me a sad smile, but I could tell he wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” I told him, watching him walk away. “Hey, Jimmy?”

The young man paused and turned toward me. “Yeah?”

“Let’s go do something sometime soon. Anything you’d like — except a rave or a magic show.”

He grinned. “All right, C.K.” And then he wandered off.

I absently put my pen in my mouth and stared at the notepad in front of me. Jimmy had some self-esteem problems, and it was easy to see why. An absentee father, a job with long hours and little pay.… Though I could be a friend to him, I wasn’t sure I was what he needed. What he needed was a father — and I just couldn’t give that to him. I couldn’t exactly track down Jimmy’s dad and command that he be a good father “or else.” It just didn’t work that way. Life was never that simple.

My thoughts were interrupted by Lois’s approach to my desk. I took the pen out of my mouth and turned my attention to her. Something about seeing her suddenly brightened my day. I couldn’t escape the past, but maybe I could enjoy the present a little bit.

“You, Clark Kent,” Lois proclaimed with great aplomb, “are in for a treat.”

Intrigued, I tilted my head. “A treat, huh? Did you get me tickets to a game? A good bottle of wine? A vacation in Aspen? A picture of the Black Knight hanging upside down in a chicken suit?” That last one wouldn’t actually have been a treat, but I knew it would irk her.

“No,” she said, pursing her lips disapprovingly. “I’m sharing a story with you.”

I crossed my arms and stared at her with suspicion. “Lois Lane doesn’t share.”

“She does when it’s something this big,” she returned. “Do you know what happened last night?”

“A full moon led to a werewolf uprising?” That one surprised even myself. It had just slipped out somehow.

“Are you going to be serious or not, farmboy?”

“Sorry,” I said with a grin, enjoying having rattled her. I put my chin on my hand and looked up at her. “What happened last night?”

“The headquarters of Sallya Technologies were brought down by a bomb.”

I stood up straight. “What? How many people were killed?”

“Fortunately, it was late, so there weren’t many casualties.”

“Do the police have any suspects?”

She shrugged. “They’ve concluded it was the work of a disgruntled former employee due to some evidence found on the scene. Bobby Bigmouth, however, said he suspected it was more than that — he thought it was related to the ‘Boss.’”

I frowned. “Bobby who?”

“Never mind that. Anyway, Kent, the point is — ”

“Clark.”

“The point is,” she emphasized, “this ‘Boss’ character means business. I’ve heard him mentioned several times, but his name always seems to be spoken in a frightened whisper. Bobby wouldn’t tell me much, but I know there’s a big story here. We just have to do some digging.”

“All right. Then let’s start digging.”

***

With Jimmy’s invaluable help, Lois and I brought together all the information we could find on Sallya Industries, including a list of ex-employees who had been fired or who had quit in the past year. I was examining the list, not actually expecting to find anything useful, when something caused me to frown. “Lois, it says here that a few animal and genetic research scientists quit recently. Why would Sallya Technologies be employing people for that kind of research?”

She took the list and looked at it. “You’re right, Clark. It could be nothing, but it’s certainly strange since we haven’t seen anything like that from them before.…” She lifted her head. “Jimmy!”

The young man came rushing over. “You yelled?”

“I was wondering if you might be able to use your…computer talents to help us out.”

He grinned. “What do you need?”

“We need to know about these animal and genetic research scientists,” Lois noted, pointing to the sheet of paper in her hands. “Were they working on separate projects? What were they doing?”

Jimmy took the list and went to his computer. Lois and I returned to looking over our notes on Sallya Technologies.

“Do you think the Boss could be a competitor?” I ventured a few minutes later.

Lois took a moment to consider what I had said. “Sallya Technologies was a big company, but they really don’t — well, didn’t — have much competition in Metropolis except for Luthor Technologies.… Maybe it’s someone who was interested in the projects Sallya Technologies was working on.”

Or maybe both, I thought to myself, my thoughts drawn again to Lex Luthor. I wasn’t sure why, but for some reason I wanted to pin every bad thing that happened in Metropolis on him.… I needed to just give it a rest. He was a philanthropist, for crying out loud. He’d done more good in one year than I had in my entire life.

When Jimmy returned, he told us, “It seems they were working on something called ‘Project Nemean Lion.’ I couldn’t find out much about it, but it looks like it might have something to do with animal DNA. The files on it are Top Secret, and I really couldn’t access much — not with the equipment that I have here.”

“Thanks, Jimmy — you’re the best,” I told him, and he returned to his desk with a pleased look.

“Nemean Lion,” Lois said to herself. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“The Nemean Lion was the first Labor of Hercules,” I explained, being somewhat familiar with Greek mythology. “Its skin was impenetrable, and Hercules had to strangle it to kill it.”

“And they’re working with DNA.… Clark, you don’t think they’re trying to make invincible animals — or humans — do you?”

I shifted uneasily. “I hope not.” The thought of invulnerable creatures being let loose on the city caused my fists to clench. Plagues of locusts were nothing compared to rampaging lions.

“I guess we need to draw up a list of former employees to talk to. Maybe someone will be able to tell us more.”

***

We had difficulty contacting the animal researchers who had quit or been let go, but we did manage to talk to a few former employees who had once been involved in research. Unfortunately, they all turned out to be rather close-mouthed.

“This is ridiculous,” Lois exclaimed as she hung up her phone. “We can’t contact most of the people we want to speak with, and those we can talk to seem to have forgotten how to talk. I’m going to call the president of the company.”

“Lois, with the building gone, you don’t have an office number where you can reach him,” I reminded her.

“That’s why I’m going to call his home phone.”

I shook my head. “I already looked, Lois. It’s unlisted.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if I can’t get my hands on an unlisted phone number. Jimmy!”

He came running over. “Yes?”

I just stared at Lois in exasperation. Couldn’t she give the poor guy a break?

“I need James Prowse’s phone number,” Lois told Jimmy. “He’s the president of Sallya Technologies, and his number isn’t listed in the phonebook. Think you can get it for me?”

Jimmy snorted. “That’s easy.”

As I watched him leave, I shook my head. “Reporters are probably hounding Prowse in the effort to get more information about what happened. What makes you think he’ll talk to you?”

“I know something they don’t,” she replied with that unshakable Lois Lane confidence. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

When Jimmy came back with the phone number, Lois eagerly dialed it. She got a busy signal several times and expressed her annoyance about it quite vocally, but at last someone must have picked up, as her face changed from annoyance to attentiveness. “This is Lois Lane with the Daily Planet. I need to speak with James Prowse.” She paused. “You can answer any questions I have for him? Somehow, I doubt that. Look, I know something he would be interested in hearing about.… Tell him that it’s not a Herculean effort to stop…lyin’ around and talk to me. Please use those exact words.” She smirked at me and waited.

“‘Lyin’?’” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m trying to be subtle,” she replied defensively. “…Oh, yes, hi. Mr. Prowse?… Yes, this is Lois Lane from the Daily Planet. I was wanting to set up a meeting with you.…” She frowned. “Well, there’s no need to be rude. I’m a reporter, and I’m investigating that explosion, which you should be happy about.” She paused, tapping a pencil against her desk. “Don’t you want to know what happened?” She tilted her head as she listened to Prowse, her anger growing. “Well, regardless of whether you want to get to the bottom of it, Mr. Prowse, I do. I think it might have something to do with Project Nemean Lion.… How do I know about that? Well, I have my ways.…” She was quiet for a long time, and the smugness on her face changed slowly to paleness. “I’m a journalist, Mr. Prowse. You can’t frighten me away with threats.” She slammed down the phone.

“What did he say to you?” I asked, worried. I didn’t know much about James Prowse, but if he was involved in the explosion, then he was a dangerous man to deal with. I probably should have insisted on talking to him instead of letting Lois do it.

But Lois just rolled her eyes and shook her head, covering up whatever it was that had disturbed her. “It doesn’t matter. It looks like we aren’t getting anything out of him. Come on. Let’s go visit some of these ex-employees. Maybe they’ll be more willing to talk in person.”

***

We didn’t learn anything new that day. The next day, we compiled some names for Jimmy to research, but we also hit a bunch of dead ends. After work, I returned to my apartment, where I called my parents and then turned on the television. I was flipping through channels when there was an insistent rapping at the door.

I jumped up from the couch and approached the door. After I opened it, Lois Lane entered in a babbling whirlwind.

“Hi, how are you doing? I’m fine. Well, I’m fine apart from the fact that someone broke in to my apartment. I still can’t believe what you’ve done with this place. From what I’ve heard, it was in pretty bad con — ”

“Lois!” I said sharply. “Slow down. What happened?” I moved closer to her, concerned.

“Someone broke in to my apartment,” she repeated. “I don’t think anything was taken, but my stuff was scattered around, and some things were broken. And I got this.” She reached into her coat and pulled out an envelope, holding it out with a shaking hand.

The envelope had already been opened, and I took out a piece of paper from it. Handing the envelope to Lois, I unfolded the sheet. The first thing I saw was a picture of Lois taken outside the Planet. The photo was covered with blood.

My mouth became a thin line, and it was hard to keep from shaking. “This isn’t your blood, is it?”

“No,” she replied, her voice just as soft as mine had been.

Nodding in acknowledgement, I slipped the photo behind the piece of paper. On inspecting the letter, I found that it contained a series of threats, each of which made the icy hand gripping my heart clench tighter and tighter. When I had finished reading, I asked, “Have you called the police?”

She shook her head. “No.” She took the letter and picture from me and put them both back in the envelope. “Again — there was nothing stolen.… But my laptop was damaged, and its screen was bashed in.” She shook her fists at her sides. “Do you know what this means, farmboy? It means all the data that I had on it which wasn’t on my computer at the Planet is gone! And the most recent version of my novel.… Do you know how much work I’m going to be losing with my computer out of commission?”

“Maybe you can still retrieve the data,” I suggested. “Jimmy has a lot on his plate right now, so he might not have time, but I took some computer courses in college.… I might be able to recover your data if the hard drive isn’t damaged.”

“Really? Could you do that?” she asked hopefully.

I smiled. “I could — but my condition for doing so is that I be allowed to read your novel.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so, farmboy.”

“Then I guess I can’t do it,” I said with a fake sigh.

“You can be infuriating sometimes. You know that, Kent?”

I grinned. “Clark.”

“Clark,” she said with distaste.

“Well, one could say the same about you,” I pointed out good-naturedly.

“Yes, well — ” Lois paused. “Can I stay with you for a night or two? I just don’t want to go back to my apartment right now alone, and it’d make me feel better if I could stay here with you. But if you don’t want me to, that’s fine, I underst — ”

“Lois,” I broke in, “of course you can stay here…but only if we call the police and tell them about what happened.”

She stared at me for a couple of seconds, considering my condition, and then she nodded. “All right.”

“Good,” I replied. “You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t kick you out of your bed — ”

“Nonsense. I won’t have you sleeping on the couch, and that’s that.”

***

We went to Lois’s apartment and called the police, and then I stepped around the room, hunting for clues. I was careful not to disturb anything, but I kept hoping I would find something of note. While I investigated — without any luck — Lois packed an overnight bag and grabbed her laptop.

When the police finally arrived, I found I was glad to see Henderson among the group, though he hadn’t been much help with Platt. He seemed to be a good cop, even if he was skeptical sometimes.

“I see you’ve made a few more enemies, Lane,” Henderson commented dryly.

“You’re just worried you’ll never be able to catch up with me, Henderson,” Lois quipped.

“You want to tell me what went on here?” he asked, looking at me and ignoring her comment.

I turned to Lois. “Show him the letter and picture.”

She reluctantly got out the envelope and handed it to the detective. After reviewing its contents, he frowned and gave her a questioning look.

“I think James Prowse is behind it,” she told him. “I said some things he didn’t like the other day on the phone, and he threatened me.”

“I’ll look into it, Lane, but I have the feeling a bigwig like him would have covered his tracks — if it even is him. You’ve made more enemies than my wife has cousins — and her side of the family breeds like rabbits.”

***

After the police finished asking us questions, Lois and I went to my apartment, and she got out her laptop for me to examine.

Looking at it, I realized it wasn’t just the screen that had been damaged. But I thought that I could fix it with a few tools and a little use of my special abilities, so I told her, “I think your data is recoverable. I’ll just need a few days to fix it.”

“Great,” she beamed.

“But I’ll probably need your password,” I told her.

She looked at me warily before finally admitting, “Black Knight.”

I somehow managed to refrain from commenting on her choice of passwords, saying instead, “With or without spaces? Capital letters?”

She sighed. “No spaces, no capitals.”

“Okay. Now, how about I order us some pizza?” Pizza always made pretty good comfort food, though I had the feeling Lois’s comfort food preference was chocolate.

She nodded. “Sounds good!”

“Do you like pepperoni?”

“Who doesn’t?” she returned.

Smiling, I walked to the phonebook and looked up the name for a pizza place. After ordering two large pizzas and some breadsticks, I noticed Lois was looking at something. My heart jumped in my throat. Soon after fixing up my apartment, I had put a small wooden box containing the globe my parents had found with my spaceship in that shelf. Had she opened the box?

I approached her in trepidation, and she turned toward me.

“Interesting sculpture,” she commented.

My relief that she hadn’t found the globe was short-lived as I rested my eyes on the piece. It was a dark wooden sculpture of a woman wearing a few bracelets and nothing else. Her face was turned up toward the sky and had a look of agony on it. “I got it in Africa,” I told her, swallowing.

“When you were studying abroad?” she asked curiously.

I nodded, keeping my face blank. “Yes.”

Unbidden, the memory of how I came into possession of it surfaced.

***

I paused in the hallway to shift my backpack. It wasn’t heavy — certainly not for someone who could bench-press tractors — but the weight distribution was uneven, and it was proving itself to be an annoyance. Unable to fix it due to the awkward object inside the bag, I gave up and continued on. Finally, I stopped in front of a pair of Americans gesturing wildly. They were probably doing something like swapping outrageous stories about fish or Amazonian women, but my presence caused them to pause and turn to me with wide and expectant grins.

“What’s up, Clark? Sleep well?” Anthony sniggered.

“Did you…dream about…baring your soul to someone — or maybe your body?” Kenny queried with an innocent expression.

My countenance dark, I unzipped my backpack and brought out the sculpture, which I had wrapped in a plastic bag. My tone was no-nonsense when I said, “Your juvenile antics have got to stop, guys. This is a piece of art — not a toy for a practical joke.”

That just started them off into a round of guffaws. It probably hadn’t helped that I had bared the sculpture’s unclothed anatomy to the world by taking it out of the plastic.

“So you woke up with a naked woman in your bed, Clark! Congratulations!” Kenny managed amid his laughter.

I crossed my eyes and sighed. One of the two — or maybe both of them — had bought the sculpture and set it circulating among the beds of their male companions. The humor inherent in the notion of someone waking up with a strange naked woman had been too much for them to pass up, and there was no telling how many times the sculpture had changed hands — or switched beds.

Anthony and Kenny could never be labeled anything but extreme…and taking anything they did or said seriously was never recommended. Still, I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed by their lack of respect for what was actually a very interesting piece of art. The look of pain on the wooden woman’s face was striking, and her supplication to the heavens was…well, almost thought-provoking.

“Bed-hopping is not what this sculpture was intended for,” I told them firmly, but I didn’t seem to be making any dent in their glee.

“If you’re so attached to the naked woman,” Anthony said at last, “you can keep her. If anyone deserves to wake up every morning with a naked woman in his bed, it’s you, Clark.”

I rolled my eyes and put the sculpture back in my bag. “Fine. I will keep her. But she’s not going back to my bed.”

That just set them off again, and as I left them, I couldn’t help but smile just a little despite myself.

***

I gestured toward the couch, resolving to move the box with the globe to the privacy of my bedroom in a few days. “How about we watch a movie? I have the first Lethal Weapon.”

“Sure,” she agreed.

Our movie-watching was interrupted briefly by the pizza delivery boy, but then we just went back to watching the screen with pizza in hand.

We didn’t talk much during the movie — I found myself holding my breath most of the time.

Being so close to Lois for so long was excruciating, intoxicating, bedazzling.… There were a few inches between us, and we weren’t touching, but I felt a heightened awareness of her proximity to me. I both loved and hated being so close to her, and it made me feel every bit the part of the awkward farmboy.

I had to keep reminding myself that I could never be in a relationship with her — that my eyes should be on the movie instead of constantly drifting to her mouth. I was almost done in when I saw her lick some marinara sauce off her lips. I had to briefly close my eyes and rein in my desire before watching the movie once more.

About three-quarters of the way through the film, Lois put her head on my shoulder.

Though I felt I might melt, I tensed immediately. I wanted to say something, but my breath was caught in my throat. My head was at utter odds with my heart.

I knew I needed to ask her to move — I shouldn’t be allowing myself to become accustomed to her touch. It was already dangerous enough to be this close to her.

But I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I just sat there in silent turmoil.

Eventually, she lifted her eyes to my face. She must have noticed the tightness of my expression, for the realization of what she was doing suddenly struck her, and she moved her head off me and scooted further away from me on the couch. “Clark, I’m so sorry — I didn’t mean to…I didn’t even realize — ”

“It’s okay, Lois,” I said with a gentle smile, nodding my head to turn her attention back to the film. After staring at me for a few seconds to make certain I really was okay, she returned to watching the movie.

I had to close my eyes for a few seconds before I did the same.

And though I told myself that it was for the best that she had put this distance between us, I couldn’t shake the strong sense of loss I felt.

***

Chapter 14: Hound Dog

You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog,

Cryin’ all the time.

— “Hound Dog”

***

The next day was business as usual at the Daily Planet.

Because of my plans to fix Lois’s laptop with my powers, I didn’t give myself my meteor rock exposure that morning or the previous night, so I was careful about everything I did. Fortunately, I didn’t have any problems. Lois had completely pulled herself together and informed me in a tone which brooked no room for disagreement that she would be staying at her own apartment that night, which I felt strangely sad about, even though it had been hard for me to sleep at all knowing she was just in the other room. But Henderson had told us the blood on the picture of Lois had belonged to a pig, and that had calmed her a bit.

“It probably wasn’t that reassuring to the pig,” I’d mumbled, but she had ignored me.

During our lunch break, after what felt like hours of browsing the store’s selection and her noting the pros and cons of this model and that model, Lois bought a new laptop. At the Planet, she gave it to me to put her data on it, and I put it inside a desk drawer. “I’ll work on it when I get home,” I promised her. She nodded and excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

I was looking up the number for a former Sallya Technologies employee when I felt a presence behind me. Turning, I found Cat gazing at me.

“Clark, you still haven’t gone out for dinner with me,” she pouted. Her outfit was a red and gold ensemble that fit her usual motto of “showing more is more.” She leaned over my desk, giving me an unwanted eyeful of her cleavage.

I sighed as I averted my eyes from her. It was time for me to put an end to this once and for all. Steeling myself, I told her, “Cat, I’m sorry, but there can’t ever be anything between us.…”

She looked at me for a few seconds before speaking. “You think I’m shallow, don’t you?”

“What?” I gaped. The fact that the thought had crossed my mind more than once made me feel guilty.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head. “You think that I can’t enjoy a nice dinner with a man if it doesn’t become physical.”

I squirmed in my chair. “Cat — ”

The gossip columnist smiled. “Relax, Clark. I’m not a man-eater.… And I’ve noticed you only have eyes for one woman.”

“Wh-what?” I stammered.

Her smile became a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’m not blind, even if she may be,” she told me. And then she stalked off, swaying her hips to maximum effect.

I was pretty sure I had turned bright red. Fortunately, my attention was caught by the ringing of the phone at my desk. Grateful for the distraction, I picked it up and answered, “Clark Kent.”

“It’s Henderson. Just thought I’d let you know — Prowse has a tight alibi. It’s not surprising since he wouldn’t get his own hands dirty.… If you and Lane are going to prove anything, you’re going to need to gather a lot of evidence.” He paused. “How’s she doing, anyway?”

I smiled to myself. Though Henderson feigned a dislike for Lois, I had realized they had built up quite a rapport over the years — though they would both bite their tongues off before admitting it. “She was a bit shaken last night,” I told him, “but she seems better today.… I don’t know, though. I’m worried about her.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “You think she needs some people watching her?”

I considered the idea for just a moment. “No. I think that was a scare tactic. But if things get a bit dicey, I might be calling you for some help.”

“All right. Take care, Kent.”

“Thanks. You too, Inspector.”

I hung up the phone and found my thoughts drawn back to what Cat had said. Was I really that obvious? If I was, this was bad. I hadn’t known Lois for that long, even if it did feel like a lifetime.… What would I be like when I had known Lois for an entire year?

Grimacing, I went back to work.

***

When it was time to leave work for the day, I hesitated. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right, Lois?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, her voice laced with annoyance. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe I should see you home — ”

“No,” she growled. “Look, Kent, I don’t want to see hide nor hair of you until tomorrow morning. No waiting around outside my apartment either.”

I sighed. “All right.”

I didn’t like leaving her since her life might be in danger, but I couldn’t spend every moment of my day watching over her. She didn’t want a bodyguard, and I wasn’t going to intrude like that.… No matter how much I wanted to. Still, the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should disobey her — but if I was caught…well, I would be apologizing for days.

I went home with Lois’s new laptop. My powers were returning. They were weak, but it was enough for me to manage a few bursts of heat vision and hyper strength. With the use of those abilities, some tools, and a few computer parts, I was able to get her old laptop up and running, even though the screen wasn’t usable. After some hard work, I salvaged her data and put it on the new laptop. Then, pleased with my success, I shut down both computers.

I opened the locket at my neck and exposed myself briefly to the meteor rock shard. The pain made me grimace, but I didn’t leave the locket open for long — I would give myself a more thorough exposure before I went to bed. Though I needed the meteor rock, I detested it at the same time. The green stone’s glimpse of “normal” haunted me. It felt as if the world was laughing at me when I had to go through the torture of using it time and time again. “Here is what your life could be like,” the world seemed to say, “if you hadn’t been given these cursed abilities.” But just as bad as that was the fact that sometimes I wondered…what if my abilities weren’t a curse…but a gift?

Mired in such contemplations, I fetched the box containing that strange globe and brought it into my bedroom. Opening the lid, I took out the mysterious item and looked at it. It was in the form of Earth, with its oceans and continents obvious. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to symbolize something — was it a way of saying the whole world was in my hands?

In disgust, I put the globe back into the box, which I set on the shelf. If that was its symbolism, then maybe I was better off without it. Still, I couldn’t help but hold on to it. What if it held the key to my past somehow?

Exhaling heavily, I pushed those thoughts away. After giving myself a little more time to recover from opening my locket, I went on a walk.

I contemplated the hazy night sky as I went. I missed the great view of the stars which I’d always gotten in Kansas. To forego that and come to Metropolis had really been a big decision for me.

But I still couldn’t regret it. Even if my life wasn’t how I had dreamed it would be years ago, things had turned out much better than they could have. I was working for a great metropolitan newspaper, trying to track down criminals and put them behind bars. I enjoyed it — and it enabled me to save a few lives in the process. A criminal behind bars couldn’t hurt others as easily as a criminal roaming free.

… And coming to Metropolis had meant that I was able to meet Lois. I had only known her for a short period of time, yet she felt so crucial to my life that I wasn’t certain how I would ever be able to give her up. In fact, I hadn’t been able to do so when the time had come — when I should have just let her go up on the colonist transport.

Well, for better or for worse, Lois Lane was now a part of my life. And the only way that would change would be if I retreated to Kansas.… And I had no intention of doing that.

Still, it would be a lot easier for me if Lois did get a boyfriend. Every time I spoke to my parents, I had to try to be careful not to talk about her, though I failed miserably most of the time. Whenever I mentioned Lois, Mom got ideas about us getting married and having a houseful of beautiful babies together. But that could never happen, and the thought of it pained me.… If Lois had a boyfriend, then surely I would be able to pull my mind away from her.

An image of Lex Luthor floated up in my mind. From the way she talked about him, was he not something like a boyfriend?

That was different, I told myself. He was — what? I wanted to say “scum,” but I had no way of knowing what kind of person he really was. He’d been nothing but kind to me.… So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that something was wrong? Was it just jealousy?

My steps faltered as I saw a man walking up to an apartment building. His face and arms were scarred with terrible burns, and his movements were slow. As he closed the door to the building, I couldn’t help but turn my thoughts back to the good my abilities could have wrought. What if I had been nearby and in possession of my powers when he had been attacked by those flames? Whether he had been stuck in a flame-filled car or a burning building, I could have helped him. Maybe he wouldn’t be acting so morosely. Maybe he would have been able to stroll down the streets without a stranger staring at him.

I sighed and shook my head. This walk was doing nothing to clear my head. I retraced my steps and approached my apartment building. I passed a woman on a bench and nodded at her with a small smile, glad that at least nothing seemed to be wrong with her. When I came across a dog sitting at my front door, however, I faltered.

The dog seemed to be about twenty-five pounds or so. It was white and had pointed black ears and a black tail. It looked up at me with the canine equivalent of a grin and wagged the tail that curled over its back.

“Hey, there,” I said quietly, unable to help myself. “What do you need, buddy?”

The dog just continued staring at me happily.

I hesitated. “I bet you’re probably hungry, huh? Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

I disappeared inside my apartment and soon came back out with a plate that had a hotdog and some slices of ham on it. Not typical canine cuisine, but it would do.

The dog seemed ecstatic to get such fare and barked in anticipation.

“Shh,” I said with a grin as I set down the plate. “You don’t want to disturb anyone.” Not that a dog barking would distract many people. The city tended to be a loud place in general.

The dog engulfed the food and then looked up at me for more.

I picked up the plate in amusement. “I think you’ve had enough for now.” I opened the door and paused in the doorframe as I realized the dog was at my heels. I turned and shook my head. “No, you need to stay out here, buddy.”

But the dog tilted its head to look at me and then gazed into my apartment.

“All right,” I conceded with a sigh. “You can come in — but just for tonight.” I gestured for the dog to enter, which it did with a mixture of curiosity and confidence.

I began to shut the door, but something prevented it from closing all the way. I turned and opened the door to find a pretty but bashful-looking young woman standing there. She had a black leash and a worn black collar in one of her hands and a paper bag in the other.

Seeing the leash and collar, I frowned. “I’m sorry — is this your dog?” I gestured toward the canine in question. It was sniffing around my apartment.

“Could I come in, Mr. Kent?” she asked, looking behind her nervously. “I have some information that might be of interest to you.”

Though I was suspicious of her reasons for being at my apartment, I reluctantly shut the door behind her and gestured toward the couch. “Please sit down.”

She sat obediently, and the dog walked to her with that canine grin. Patting the creature with a smile, she said, “Sit, Shelby.” The dog obeyed, prompting another smile from her. “Good boy.” Turning her attention to me, she told me, “My name is Keira Fisher — I used to work for Sallya Technologies. I heard from someone that you and Ms. Lane were asking around about the destruction of ST headquarters.… I tried testing her first, you see, but she had no interest in Shelby.”

My eyebrows came together. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“It was important that I find someone with an affinity for animals, you see,” she explained. “This dog is Shelby.” She kissed the top of the dog’s head, and he put a paw on her knee. “Ms. Lane showed no interest in him, and I was worried.… But you seem to feel kindly toward animals, Mr. Kent.”

Looking at the dog, who still seemed quite content, I asked her, “Why are you here, Ms. Fisher?”

“I was working on something called ‘Project Nemean Lion,’” she began. My face must have shown familiarity with the name, for she said, “You’ve heard of it?”

“Briefly,” I acknowledged. “But I don’t know much about it.”

“We were doing genetic research on animals with the aid of some different-colored meteor rocks that had been found after a strange meteor shower in Kansas,” she noted.

I had to fight to keep from betraying my surprise. Someone else had some of the meteor rock? And there were different colors? What specifically was known about that meteor shower? It was all I could do to stop from bursting out with questions.

“We were able to give certain animals — we worked with rats, dogs, cats, and apes, mostly — special abilities. We managed to give them higher levels of strength and intelligence. We could also give them near-invulnerability and longer lives, though it was rare that we managed to give an animal all of those qualities. We did, however, seem to succeed with Shelby here.…”

I frowned to myself. In a way, it sounded as if they were creating animal versions of me. But if I worried about whether I could control my powers…well, it was hard for me to even think of such enhanced animals. They wouldn’t know anything about responsibility — they would simply be guided by instinct.

“Do you think whoever is in charge intended to use this…process on humans as well?” I asked her, uncertain I really wanted to know the answer.

“I’m not sure,” she responded. “We hadn’t yet perfected our technique, though we got really close with Shelby.…” Her expression suddenly became very earnest. “I want you to know something. I have always hated experimenting on animals in general, even if it’s been my line of work, and the thought of cruel experiments has always been utterly repulsive to me.”

I frowned. “Then why did — ”

“Their life spans,” she interjected. “I’ve always been so upset by the fact that animal life spans are so much shorter than human ones.… The idea of giving them longer lives has always appealed to me, so I jumped on the chance. But I never participated in an experiment that violated my ethics — I never caused direct harm to any animal. I love them too much for that.” She buried her face briefly into Shelby’s fur before looking back up at me. “But I was naïve about something, Mr. Kent. When I finally realized that Sallya Technologies didn’t want to help animals but use them for destruction, I knew I had to do something.… A coworker — Mark Christensen — and I trashed the lab and freed the animals. We found good homes for all the animals with the help of our friends, though we tried to be careful about it. We made sure all the people involved were trustworthy and knew what they were getting into.… But evidently all the care we took just wasn’t enough. Mark was found dead the day after the Sallya Technologies building was destroyed.”

I hesitated. “Do you think he could have been behind the explosion?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. He couldn’t have done that.… He wouldn’t have done that. He would never have been willing to jeopardize people’s lives like that.” She looked down at Shelby. “I have a few things I need to tie up before I leave Metropolis for good.… But I need somewhere for Shelby to stay for a few days so he doesn’t get discovered.”

My mind pulled back to the dog, I considered a few different dog breeds and ventured, “Is that dog part Spitz?”

The scientist smiled. “Not bad, Mr. Kent. Shelby’s actually a pureblood. His breed is a member of the Spitz family. They used to be referred to as the German Spitz, but now they’re called the American Eskimo.”

I frowned. “He’s a pureblood? But I thought American Eskimos were pure white and had long fur.”

She looked pleased at my knowledge. “You’re right. But I shaved him to make him less recognizable. You aren’t generally supposed to do that with his breed because they can get sunburned and their undercoat helps keep them cool, but his near-invulnerability means I don’t have to worry about it.… And I also dyed his fur.”

“You dyed his fur?” I asked skeptically. “Did you use some kind of special compound you came up with at the lab?”

She laughed. “You can buy animal dye at certain pet stores.… But you’re right — what I used came from a lab. Dr. Klein — he’s a friend of mine who works at S.T.A.R. Labs — made the dye. It’s completely safe for dogs, and it is specifically designed so you can’t wash it out. To get it out, you have to use the dye-remover Dr. Klein made — or ‘spot-remover,’ as I like to call it. He gave me the formula for the dye and the dye-remover, and they’re not that hard to make.… But that’s beside the point, I guess.…” She took a deep breath. “Mr. Kent, do you think you could keep Shelby temporarily for me? I don’t want anyone to discover him.” She smiled hopefully. “He’s housebroken.”

I looked at the dog. He had rolled onto his back and was enjoying a belly rub from Keira Fisher. “All right,” I agreed reluctantly. “Just for a few days.”

She smiled and snapped the collar onto Shelby, who moved to a sitting position in anticipation of a walk. His eyes watched as she passed the leash to me, and I set it on a nearby table. She handed me the paper bag, and I peered inside.

“There’s a bag of dog food and some toys and treats in there, so you won’t have to worry about buying anything. I’ll be back to pick up Shelby in a few days. I want to help you with your story, Mr. Kent. I have my suspicions about Sallya Technologies — everything there was too top secret. I’d like to poke around a few places while I can.… I have a feeling that Sallya Technologies might be a subsidiary of LexCorp. Don’t you find it suspicious that LexCorp never tried to buy out Sallya Technologies, even though Sallya Technologies took quite a lot of business away from LexCorp?”

“Well, now that you mention it, it does sound suspicious,” I admitted. “But I don’t think you should go at this alone. I can help you out — and so can Lois Lane.”

She shook her head. “I want to do this alone. It’ll be dangerous enough with just me. Sometimes, numbers don’t bring safety.”

I considered arguing with her, but the fire in her eyes made me realize that there would be no talking her out of it. In that respect, she seemed to be a lot like Lois. “All right,” I conceded. Just like with Platt, I shouldn’t try to control people’s lives. Free will was too important to people.

She scratched under the dog’s chin and then held his head so that she could look into his eyes. “I have to go for now, Shelby. You’re going to be left to the care of Mr. Kent.… So make sure you obey him. Don’t give him any trouble, and avoid the temptation to chew on his shoes.” As she made that last statement, she glanced at me. She must have seen the alarm in my eyes, as she smiled and assured me, “I’m just kidding — he hasn’t ever chewed up any shoes that I know of.” Then she turned to Shelby and hugged him. “Be good.”

Keira Fisher stood and said farewell after looking at Shelby one last time. I shut the door behind her. Shelby rolled over onto his back and twisted slightly to look at me. Rolling my eyes, I moved to kneel beside him. I hesitated before gently reaching down and rubbing his belly.

The dog enjoyed the attention, though I kept it brief. I was encouraged to find that touching the animal didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t sure if the meteor rock involved in Shelby’s transformation was diluted or what, but I was glad the dog’s presence didn’t cause any ill effects. I was just as glad that the dog was basically invulnerable. That was certainly convenient for me.

Realizing I needed an impromptu dog bed, I went and got a few towels out and put them on the floor.

Shelby looked at me, and I recalled that Keira Fisher had told him with success to sit. Assuming he might know other commands, I tried out, “Go lie down.”

The dog stood and then jumped on the couch and rested his chin on his paws.

“Not exactly what I meant, but I guess it’s my fault for not specifying,” I said with a chuckle. I retrieved a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with water and then set it on the ground where Shelby could see it. “There you go. I’m going to have to leave, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

The dog’s ears flicked in acknowledgement.

I picked up the phone and called Lois.

“Hello?” came her voice.

“Lois, it’s Clark.”

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you,” she said, obviously annoyed. “That included hearing from you, you know.”

I smiled to myself. “I have some information I think you would like to hear about tonight.… Would it be okay if I came over?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she replied reluctantly.

“Great. I’ll see you soon.”

***

I went to Lois’s apartment, and she let me in with a sour expression. She was in her pajamas and a robe. “This had better be good.”

My eyes flicked to the kitchen and the ice cream scoop on the counter, and I couldn’t help but comment, “It’s good enough to interrupt eating ice cream, I assure you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Get to the point, Kent.”

“Clark,” I prompted. I didn’t wait for her to correct herself. “I have your laptop with me.”

I took it out of the bag I’d had it in for safekeeping, and she grabbed it eagerly. “Thank you,” she told me as she took it to her coffee table and set it down.

Though she seemed so happy I didn’t want to spoil it, I couldn’t help but say, “Great novel, by the way. The heroine’s a real peach.”

Her joy turned instantly to horror, and she gaped at me.

I continued, “The male protagonist, though…I don’t know — he seems a little bit like a cardboard cutout.”

“You read my novel?” Lois demanded.

“I was, however, impressed with the end of the story — ”

“Kent!”

“The beginning, though, could use a little work.…” I trailed off and smirked as she began sputtering.

“You — you — I — ”

I laughed. And then I took pity on her. “I’m just kidding with you, Lois. I didn’t read it.”

She relaxed visibly. “Good.” But she still looked suspicious.

Under my breath, I said, “Not the whole thing, anyway.”

She glanced sharply at me and growled, “Kent.”

“Ms. Lane,” I returned, the corners of my mouth tugging upward.

Irked, she changed the subject. “Did you come all the way over here tonight just to give me my laptop? I was eager to have my data back, but I could have waited a few hours.”

“No, that’s not it. I had a very interesting visitor tonight.”

I explained about Keira Fisher and imparted most of the information I had learned. I did, however, leave out the part about Shelby. If Lois realized she had almost let something big slip past us, she would have been very unhappy, and I didn’t want to ruin the growing excitement in her eyes. I concluded my exposition by saying, “And Keira Fisher thinks there might be a connection to LexCorp.”

Lois shook her head. “I don’t think there’s a connection to LexCorp. There are plenty of companies that LexCorp hasn’t bought out. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think you’re wrong,” I said firmly. “Sallya Technologies was a big competitor. LexCorp had a lot to gain from the destruction of that company’s headquarters.”

“LexCorp doesn’t just go around blowing its competitors up.”

“How do you know what LexCorp does or doesn’t do?”

“I just know,” she returned.

“Why? Because of Luthor?” I didn’t even bother to hide my bitterness. I didn’t know why, but the thought of him with Lois made me sick.

She crossed her arms. “Well, now that you mention him — Lex is a philanthropist. He has done great things for this city.”

“What do you really know about him, anyway?” I returned. “Maybe he has skeletons in his closet.”

“Everyone has skeletons in their closet.”

“Well, maybe he has particularly gruesome ones,” I persisted. “After all, who stood to gain from the destruction of the space program but LexCorp?”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said dismissively.

“Is it? If Luthor had been able to create his space station, it would have made a lot of money for LexCorp. Even if it isn’t Luthor specifically who’s involved, it’s possible it’s someone under him in LexCorp who is trying to destroy LexCorp’s competitors.”

Lois narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know that there’s a connection to LexCorp.”

“And you don’t know that there isn’t.”

She stared at me, and I stared right back at her.

In a quiet voice, I told her, “All I’m suggesting is that we leave it open as a possibility.” If the man was an evil mastermind, I wanted to find out — before Lois got hurt. But I didn’t have a clue how to go about making such a discovery. It was just my luck that the person best suited for such an investigation — Lois — thought he was heaven on earth. My mood darkened.

“Whatever.” She pursed her lips and looked at me for a few seconds. “So, are you going to tell me anything about that woman at the Magic Club?”

“Wh-what?” I stuttered. That had come from left field.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten. I told you about Claude — don’t you think you owe me a little honesty?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “You only told me about him because you thought we were about to die.”

“It doesn’t matter why I told you. The fact is I told you.”

“And the fact is I can’t tell you about Constance. I’m sorry.”

As I looked down at her hands, I could feel her eyes on me. I knew she was considering challenging me. She didn’t know that even thinking about Constance made me feel as if someone were stabbing me in the chest with a million knives.

But at last she sighed, and I glanced up and realized she was relenting. “Fine,” she said in an annoyed voice. “Now, let’s talk story strategies.…”

I sat back and listened as Lois Lane did what she did best. A few hours later, I left and went to bed in my apartment, glad that Lois hadn’t tried harder to force me to relive some of those painful memories.

***

The next day, we did more legwork on the Sallya story while working on some minor individual pieces. We tried to trace money trails, but we weren’t having much luck. I found myself wishing I’d been given some way to contact Keira Fisher — she might have been able to point us in the right direction.

At the end of the day, I felt my powers coming on. I hadn’t opened my locket that morning on purpose, and I still refrained from doing so. It really bugged me that Metropolis had me relying so frequently on the use of my special abilities, but there wasn’t a way around it sometimes.

After work, I went to the rubble of the Sallya building and scanned it for meteor rock. I wasn’t able to find any, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. There could be lead in the building. I had no way of knowing for sure whether or not the meteor rock had been destroyed or recovered. Even if it was gone, the thought that someone else knew about it made me uneasy. If a private organization possessed knowledge of the special meteor rock, did that mean the government did, too? My parents had told me that people from the government had been snooping around after I came to Earth. But we had never known if they had actually found anything. Knowing that Sallya Technologies had found something just made me nervous.

When I went into work the next day, the situation just got worse. As I approached Lois, I found her tapping a pen on her desk and looking somber.

Concerned, I asked her, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been at work for a few hours.… And I have some bad news.” She turned to look at me. “I’ve been talking to a few of my sources and to Henderson. Apparently, they fished a body out of a dumpster in a bad part of town. It was Keira Fisher.”

***

Chapter 15: A Little More Bite and a Little Less Bark

A little less conversation, a little more action, please.

All this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me.

A little more bite and a little less bark …

— “A Little Less Conversation”

***

Lois’s words rang in my head: “Apparently, they fished a body out of a dumpster in a bad part of town. It was Keira Fisher.”

It took me a few seconds to find my voice. Finally, I ventured, “What?”

She shifted the pen in her right hand to her left, looking agitated. “Her body was riddled with bullets, and police are blaming gang violence.… You and I both know that’s not the cause. Henderson said he didn’t have any leads otherwise, but he did tell me that if we found any concrete evidence one way or another to let him know. One of my sources said that she was poking around and asking about some people high up on the totem pole at Sallya Technologies. With the explosion of that building, a lot of hard workers are out of jobs, though a few of the bigwigs quit and are now being employed by Luthor Technologies. I did manage to talk briefly to Lex about it, and he said that what happened was a tragedy. He’s going to try to find jobs for as many people as he can — it seems Sallya Technologies will probably shut down completely.”

I looked away from her and bit my lip. Knowing what had happened to Mark Christensen, I should have just told Keira Fisher to leave Metropolis. Her help hadn’t been necessary; her safety should have been top priority. It was bad to try to control people’s lives — but surely strong advice was allowed, right?

“Hey, you okay?”

I turned to Lois, who appeared to be worried. I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Looking at me carefully, she said, “All right. Then let’s do some more work.”

***

We began examining Sallya Technologies’ finances more closely. From what we could tell, it appeared as if Sallya Technologies had never been terribly profitable, though it had made some money. A big insurance policy had been taken out on the building, but we ran into difficulties tracing the policy’s beneficiary.

After a few hours of work, some help from Jimmy, and a few queries from an interested Perry White, we were able to trace the insurance money to Harrison McGregor. He was a big CEO, but he was very young. Too young for me to really believe in the plausibility of his position.

“I don’t know, Lois,” I said, my brow furrowed. “I’m not sure if I buy this. We’ve been having such difficulty with our investigation — why have we suddenly found where the money trail leads now? McGregor just seems too young for this to work. And why would he be the one receiving the money? It just doesn’t add up.”

“He has major shares in Sallya Technologies, Clark. It makes sense to me.”

I shook my head. “There has to be more to this story than meets the eye, Lois. I think there might be a connection with LexCorp here.… I think someone else is pulling the strings.”

“Lex has firm control over LexCorp,” she told me, “and he wouldn’t do anything like this. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. The explosion can be tied to a greedy young businessman — we’ve got all the evidence right here. He’s the primary shareholder since the founder retired. All the trails lead to him.”

I stared at her for a few seconds, thinking about Lex Luthor. I didn’t truly want the man to go to jail. He was a philanthropist and had done a lot of good with his money. Jealousy was holding more weight in my heart than any real conviction that he was guilty of something. I was being unreasonable. Lois was free to date whoever she wanted — and she would never be dating me. No woman ever would.

“Okay,” I conceded. She was probably right.

***

We stayed late and wrote a story on McGregor and then sent it in. He’d taken out the insurance policy just shortly before the building had exploded, and he had publicly made a statement afterward that there wasn’t enough money to rebuild — which turned out to be a fabrication. The insurance policy had been worth far more than the cost of rebuilding.

When we were finished with our story, I went to my apartment, tired and a bit cranky.

As I opened the door, Shelby jumped down from the couch and came over to greet me, his leash in his mouth. I had been coming home every day on my lunch breaks to refill his food dish and take him on a quick walk. I had thought the arrangement would only be temporary; really, I wish it had been — not because I didn’t like the dog, but because it would mean that Keira Fisher would still be alive.

I snapped the leash onto Shelby’s collar and kicked a once-squeaky toy out of the way. The toy bone, I noted absently, was riddled with teeth marks, courtesy of a very strong dog. There was no telling where the squeaker had gone.

I knelt in front of Shelby and scratched behind his ears, grateful for his near-invulnerability. At least there was one living creature I could touch without fearing I would cause harm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, looking into his dark eyes, “but Keira Fisher is dead.… I guess you belong to me now, Shelby.”

He looked back at me intently, not understanding, and I gave him a pat with a sad smile. Then I stood and opened the door. Shelby pranced outside, his nose sniffing wildly. I shook my head, feeling a little envious of animals. They didn’t understand issues of mortality. They lived in the moment. Perhaps there was a lesson in that.

As I watched Shelby lift his leg beside a bush, I decided that I was going to have to call him something else. I just didn’t think the name “Shelby” was appropriate for a male dog. And besides, I wasn’t sure if his name had been known by others in the laboratory. It was best not to take any chances, even if I didn’t intend to have the dog splayed all over the news for anyone to make the connection.

He saw a cat and nearly jerked my arm out of its socket as he began an attempted pursuit, and I told him sharply, “Bad dog!”

He put his ears down and looked at me, running one of his front paws over his snout as if to apologize.

I smiled and reached down to scratch behind an ear. When Keira Fisher had asked me to keep him temporarily, she hadn’t realized she had just asked the best qualified individual in the world. If he ever went on a destructive binge, all I would have to do was wait for my powers to return, and then I could stop him.

As Shelby looked at me and wagged his tail, however, I knew that worrying about him going on a destructive binge wasn’t necessary. He was a nice dog. Probably the only things that needed to fear him were cats and squirrels…and squeaky toys. The teeth marks he had put in that toy bone had been impressive indeed.

***

When I got to the Planet in the morning, I set a paper bag on Lois’s desk and went to make a cup of coffee. As I returned to my desk, I saw Lois peering into the bag before pulling out a donut and then handing the bag to Jimmy, who was standing nearby and examining some papers.

“Thanks,” she told me, taking a bite. She already had her mug of coffee, or I would have gotten it for her. “Perry hasn’t come out of his office yet, so I don’t know what he thought about our piece. He’s busy yelling at Ralph, or I would have gone inside to ask him myself.”

“I’d sure hate to be Ralph,” Jimmy commented as he pulled a donut out of the bag.

“No kidding,” I agreed. The balding man was known for putting too much faith in his sources and too little interest in hard evidence. As a result, he got chewed out by Perry White on a regular basis. Every now and then, however, he would chance upon something good, which was probably why he hadn’t been fired.… Well, there were some rumors that he was related to someone on the Planet’s board of directors. There were also some rumors that this person was the one who fed him his occasional good stories. I wasn’t sure what to believe; mostly, I tried to avoid the man.

Ralph finally came out of the office shaking his head and looking relatively unharmed. As he passed by, he muttered, “Geeze, you’d think a source that turned out not to be credible is the end of the world with that guy.”

Jimmy snorted. “Maybe if you spent a little more time checking out your sources and a little less time jumping on everything they say, you wouldn’t run into problems with the Chief.”

Ralph stopped and turned to Jimmy. “This coming from the office gopher.”

The younger man tilted his head. “You know, at least I actually listen to Perry. You could learn a lot from him — like what stories are publishable and what stories aren’t. It’s not that hard to learn.”

Ralph rolled his eyes and turned to me. “Can you believe this guy?”

I crossed my arms, not willing to commiserate with him. “He’s got a point, Ralph.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. As he walked away, I wondered idly if it would really be that bad to drop my ethics for a few minutes and give that weasel a good pounding. Jimmy just shook his head and walked over to his own desk to look at something.

I heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see the Chief Editor coming toward Lois and me.

“Lois, Clark — I managed to take a look at that piece you wrote.” His face was grim, and Lois and I exchanged confused looks. “It’s, well, it’s not what I expected.…”

“What’s wrong with it, Chief?” Lois asked, standing up, ready to defend the piece.

He broke out into a grin. “Aww, I’m just funnin’ with ya. It was brilliant, just like I’ve come to expect from you two. You make a great team — but you’re not permanently together, remember. At least, not yet. It is possible to have too much of a good thing.” He suddenly realized that the newsroom was quieter than normal and that some people were staring at him. “Judas Priest, folks! What do you think this is, a zoo?” he shouted. “Back to work!” He pointed a pair of fingers at us. “Seriously, good work, you two.” He moved away from us and barked, “Jimmy!”

I smiled as I watched Jimmy respond immediately, but my smile turned to a frown when I saw Cat approach.

“Hello, handsome,” she purred.

“Hi, Cat,” I returned uncomfortably.

“Don’t you think you’ve tried enough times to sink your claws into him, Cat?” Lois asked in an annoyed tone. “You do know that he doesn’t like touching people.… And we know what sorts of activities you are interested in.”

“At least I have a social life,” Cat responded coolly. “Not that you would remember what that was like — if indeed you ever had one.” She turned to me with hungry eyes and puckered her lips to gently blow me a kiss. Then she leaned over me — careful not to touch me — and whispered in my ear, “Somebody has to keep her tongue in working order.… You’ll need it one day to battle with yours.” As she strutted away, I gawked at her. Somehow, I knew she hadn’t been referring to Lois and me engaging in a verbal sparring session.

“What did she say to you?” Lois asked, crossing her arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled, my face red. “Look, I need to go and cover that press conference on Lex Luthor’s museum donation. I’ll see you later.” As I retreated into the elevator, I realized I had been right when I thought Cat would be a great threat to me. Now, I wasn’t able to get the mental image out of my head of me kissing Lois and seeing just how agile her tongue could be.

***

That night, I took Shelby out for a walk. I still hadn’t decided on a new name for him, but he didn’t seem to mind the use of the old one, so I was in no rush. But I was going to have to introduce him to Lois sometime soon, and I needed to think of one.

We were walking by an old building when I heard what sounded like a frightened shout. I stopped walking and listened, trying to hear some more. Shelby growled deep in his throat and broke his leash free from my hand. Then he burst through the wall of the building as easily as if it had been paper. I hesitated for just a moment before running after him down a damp and dirty hallway.

I could hear an angry voice from a nearby room saying, “Tell me where your house and car are right now, or you’re going to regret it.” An icy hand engulfed my heart as I heard the faint sound of a child sobbing.

Just as I came up behind Shelby, he burst through the open door and leapt at the person I’d heard. The angry man had a gun and saw the dog just in time to let off a shot before his gun hand was engulfed by Shelby’s mouth and his weapon clattered to the floor. Though no one else seemed to see it, I realized the bullet had hit Shelby in the chest. I rushed forward and picked up the gun, tucking it into the back of my pants. “Move, and I’ll shoot,” I warned him. But he was too busy making frightened noises and staring at Shelby to pay me much heed.

The child I’d heard was standing beside a skinny blond man tied to a chair. The boy looked to be about six, and I thanked my lucky stars that he appeared to be unharmed.

“Are you two okay?” I asked as I approached.

“Y-yes,” the man said shakily.

I took a deep breath and untied him while keeping a wary eye on the gunman, though Shelby seemed to have him under control.

Once released, the blond man immediately embraced the child, who cried into his shirt, “D-Daddy.…”

“Son,” the man whispered into the boy’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re all right.…”

As I looked at them, holding the rope that had bound the father to the chair, I thought of what could have been lost. Human lives were so fragile. If I hadn’t been near to help, there was no telling what would have happened. It was fortunate Shelby had taken action.

I turned to stare at the man who had threatened them, and a great animosity swelled up within me. But such anger was destructive, and I forced myself to concentrate on breathing for a few seconds before I moved toward him with rope still in my hand. Shelby was growling, and the latter was on his knees and looking utterly terrified.

“Please get your dog off me,” the gunman pleaded, seeing he had my attention. “Give me my hand back.”

While still holding the rope, I knelt beside the brown-haired gunman. Then, left without any other choice, I grabbed his free hand. “All right. I’m going to have him let go of your hand, and you’re going to give it to me. Any wrong moves, and he’ll attack you.” I didn’t actually know if that was true — but neither did he.

“Fine fine fine,” he sputtered. “Just get this dog off me!”

“Shelby,” I said in a commanding voice, drawing the dog’s eyes to me. “Let go.” I waited a second and realized he must not know that command specifically. Then I tried, “Drop it!”

He obediently released the man’s hand, which I quickly but carefully grabbed. I tied the man’s hands together behind his back, marveling at the fact that Shelby hadn’t bitten down hard enough to draw blood. If a dog could be that careful, couldn’t I? The thought lingered in my mind.

When the rope was firmly tied around the criminal’s hands, I held onto the middle of it and turned to the blond man standing beside the chair. I kept a careful eye on the gunman, but I wasn’t sure it was necessary, as Shelby was looking incredibly watchful.

“Thank you so much,” the man I’d saved told me thankfully. He was holding the hand of his son, who had quieted down and was staring at Shelby with wide eyes. “He — he took my keys.… He wanted to know where my house and car were so he could take more.… I didn’t know what to do — my wife is at home, and I didn’t want him to hurt her. But my son — ” He cut off.

I looked at the child grimly. “Did he.…”

“No. You came just in time. He didn’t hurt my son.” He used an arm to pull the boy closer. “Thank God.”

I sighed in relief. Shelby and I had gotten there just in time.

I watched the child, who was staring wide-eyed at Shelby in interest. The boy tugged at his father’s arm and led him to the dog. His father came with him warily, not certain whether Shelby was friendly. “Peter…” the man trailed off.

“It’s okay,” I said in a quiet voice. “He won’t bite either of you.”

The boy stood in front of Shelby and patted him. “Good boy.”

Shelby took his eyes away from the gunman and tilted his head. Then he promptly gave the child’s face a tongue bath.

The child laughed. “Silly dog.”

A smile broke out on the man’s face. Looking heartened, he reached out and gave Shelby a pat of his own.

I glanced at the gunman and then at the door. “Do you think you could go and call the police?” I asked the child’s father. “I’ll stand guard.”

“Yes,” he agreed. He left the room holding his son’s hand, and the child waved at Shelby.

Now my attention was turned back to the one who had threatened those two people, and my mouth formed a thin line. “Did my dog hurt you at all?” I asked the man. I hadn’t seen anything, but I wanted to be sure.

“No,” he admitted. “You’ve sure got him well trained.”

I hadn’t actually done any of the training; Keira Fisher had. But I wasn’t about to admit that. There was no need to let this man know that I wasn’t sure what commands Shelby knew. “He’s a smart dog,” I replied.

We were quiet for a few minutes, and then he said, “I wasn’t going to really hurt the kid, you know.”

The words made me feel a little better, but I still wasn’t happy with the man. “Why did you do all this?”

He shrugged. “I needed the money.… You know how it goes.”

“No,” I said in a low voice, “I don’t. No matter how low you get, that’s no excuse to threaten a child or steal from someone.”

“Yeah, that’s really something coming from Mr. GQ,” he snorted.

I bit back a reply and just waited. When the blond man returned to the room with his son, he told me, “They’re on their way. Thank you so, so much, sir. You don’t know how much this means to me. My name’s George.”

I smiled. “My name’s Clark. And don’t thank me. Thank my dog.” I nodded toward Shelby.

He looked at the dog and said softly, “Thank you.”

Shelby wagged his tail, looking happy as could be.

George laughed and then turned to me. “Is there anything I can do for you and your dog, Clark? I’ve got a cousin who owns a pet shop — how about a few free things from there?”

“Really, that’s not necessary,” I told him. “I’m just glad to help.”

“No, I insist. Surely there’s something you need?”

Though I really didn’t want his generosity, it was obvious he wanted to do something, so I considered what he had said. “Well, he does need a new collar.…”

“Consider it done,” George proclaimed with a chuckle. “Just go to Penny’s Pet Palace. The name’s ridiculous, but they should have a good enough collar selection for you. Tell Penny that George sent you. I’ll call her tonight.”

“Thanks,” I said gratefully.

“By the way,” he said, looking puzzled, “I saw the number you did on that wall. How did you do that?”

I mumbled something about old buildings, and he fortunately didn’t ask for further details. He and his son just walked over to Shelby and showered their canine savior with attention.

I pressed the criminal forward, and he sat in the chair at my prompting.

Taking the gun out of my waistband, I lightly touched his back with it. “No funny moves,” I warned him, and he grunted in assent.

The blond man had stopped petting Shelby and was talking to his son, so I made a clicking noise to get the dog’s attention. “Come here, boy.”

Shelby came to me with tail wagging, and I knelt and carefully felt his chest for a wound. There was no blood, but as I probed where I thought the bullet had hit, he whined. So, there wasn’t a wound — just a bruise. “Good boy,” I told him quietly, patting his head.

As I turned my eyes back to the gunman and stood, I thought about how Shelby had risked his life.

I hadn’t really been worried that Shelby would hurt the gunman, even though he was apparently strong enough to break through a wall without any effort. Somehow, I had known that Shelby had everything under control. He was an animal — and thereby subject to an animal’s baser instincts. Yet I didn’t truly fear that he would ever hurt anyone by touching them. Somehow, I knew he could control his powers. Shouldn’t I be able to trust myself the same way?

Part of me said that I couldn’t. Part of me said it wasn’t worth the risk.

But then I thought about what Lois had said about the Black Knight.… Was I obligated to use my powers for good, even if they might be accidentally used for evil along the way?

No one was perfect — least of all me. But if I was anything short of perfect when I used my powers, it could spell catastrophe. Was it worth the risk?

My eyes flicked to the boy and his father. Despite what the criminal had said, what if they had been hurt? What if I hadn’t made it in time? Just thinking about it depressed me.

I thought then of the bus that had taken three lives. With my powers, I could have stopped the vehicle. Even if I had stopped it a little too quickly and some people had gotten whiplash and broken arms, there would have been a greater good accomplished — I would have saved lives.

And if I got out of control, my parents would use the meteor rock to stop me — in fact, I could keep my locket with me just in case.… Surely I would be able to save more people than I would hurt.

I looked down at my hands, one of which was gently pressing a gun into the brown-haired man’s back. I hadn’t hurt anyone tonight with my hands. If I made this leap to helping people on a more widespread basis, then I would probably be touching people frequently. Could I handle that?

I thought of the woman who had been hit by the bus and survived only briefly. I might have been able to get her to the hospital in time for them to do something for her, even if I hadn’t been able to stop the bus. Weren’t the reasons to do this outweighing the reasons not to do it?

I was terrified of what would happen. There were so many “what ifs” floating in the air.

If I did this, I would be plastered all over the news. There was no question of that. And if I failed in front of the whole world, what then?

With my free hand, I touched my locket through the fabric of my shirt. If I failed the world, then I would kill myself if I had to. I had failed myself before — maybe this was my chance for redemption. And if it came to ill, then I would do what needed to be done.

I looked again at the boy, who was laughing as his father ruffled his hair. If Shelby and I hadn’t been there to help, they could have been hurt or killed. Even if they had been left unharmed, it was possible the criminal would have harmed the child’s mother when he went to break into their home.

Was it really worth the risk? I furrowed my brow.

But then the boy walked over to me, and he tugged at my shirt.

I knelt in front of him and asked, “What is it?”

“Thank you for being my hero,” he told me shyly. And then he walked back to his father.

I felt a tear in my eye, and I lifted a finger beneath my glasses to wipe it away. Then I took a deep breath and steeled myself. The time for tears in the night was past. I needed to be strong. My decision was made. I was going to reemerge in front of the world.

But I couldn’t allow myself to be seen as the Black Knight. People wouldn’t fully trust such a figure, even if that figure helped bring criminals to justice. I would need to act as someone who didn’t seem to be hiding something — even if I really was.

I inhaled deeply, feeling a strange contentment with my decision. My parents would be proud of me.

***

Chapter 16: What’s in the Drink? … Magic, I Think

What’s in the drink? Chase the devil away.

Magic, I think.…

— “Chesay”

***

After talking to the police and handing off the criminal to them, I went home. I felt both terrified and exhilarated. I was going to take a giant leap from my present life. I was going to be strong for the sake of others — and gentle as well.

But I would have to start touching people again. It might be more dangerous than when I had been using the shard — but part of what had worried me about the shard was that my powers would return without warning. Now, I would have my powers all the time. I would have to be in a state of continual control — but surely it was better than paranoia. If Shelby was trustworthy enough to be touched by people, then didn’t the same apply to me?

And what was more — I wanted to touch and be touched by people. I had cut myself off from everyone for so long that I felt like a tightly wound spring about to burst. And if I hesitated every time I was about to touch someone, it could cost a life when every split second counted. Wasn’t it best to become accustomed to touch again?

I didn’t plan to talk to my parents about it until I had thought it over more, so when I got to my apartment I just went to bed. Shelby got into his usual spot at the foot of my bed — I hadn’t been able to tell him “no” the first night he did it, and I figured it was going to be habit-forming soon, but I found that I liked the company. The last time I had woken up with someone in my bed other than him had been that African sculpture. I smiled to myself and turned off the light.

I was woken up a few minutes later by the sound of Shelby barking. “Quiet,” I told him in annoyance, the covers pulled over my head, but he was insistent, so I finally peeked out. My eyes widened when I saw that the strange globe that had been nestled away in a box was now floating in midair and glowing. I reached my hand out, and it descended into my palm as if it were meant to be there.

The globe was no longer in the shape of Earth. It had morphed into a red-tinted planet utterly different from the place I had grown up on. “Krypton,” I whispered to myself, somehow knowing immediately that I had just spoken the name of the planet of my birthplace.

White light flashed from the globe, and it projected an image that I was utterly enraptured by.

An older man with a silver symbol on his white tunic began to speak. “I am Jor-El. You are my son, Kal-El. The globe in your hands is attuned to you, and it has activated now that you have begun to accept your destiny. You see, Kal-El, you have a great purpose on Earth. Under the planet’s yellow sun, you will be given powers no Kryptonian has ever had. But you must use those powers wisely. Know, son, that we did not wish to part with you. But our home planet was in danger of destruction, and so your mother Lara and I decided to send you out in a space capsule as a baby.”

A tall woman wearing similar clothes appeared and smiled at me. I reached out with my free hand, as if to touch her.

“If you are seeing this message, then you must have survived the journey through space and grown into a fine young man. I am only sorry that we could not be a part of your life.” His face was grim. “We were facing utter desperation when our probes gave us information concerning the planet Earth. We found that its inhabitants look like Kryptonians and embraced ethics similar to ours, and we knew it was the best place to send you. We stopped our search for a hospitable planet and worked to finish the capsule that would carry you to your new home — to the realm called America…and the place called Kansas.”

He paused for a few seconds, looking as if he didn’t know what to tell me next. Finally, he told me, “There is so much that I could say, and there are probably many questions you would like to ask. I know both Lara and I would like to see what you look like at this point — to know what you have become and whether you are alone. But just as we cannot get answers to our questions, so we cannot try to anticipate and answer all of your questions. With the destruction of Krypton imminent, we do not have the time for such exposition.”

Lara brought her hands together. “Just know that we loved you, Kal-El,” she whispered. “We hope you find the happiness that we felt when you first entered our life.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she had a smile on her face. “Just the thought that you could survive to see this message is enough to make us content. Though we are gone, do not allow yourself to succumb to loneliness.…”

Jor-El nodded. “As the last son of Krypton and the only survivor of the House of El, you must bring hope to others. Look toward the future. There, you will find greatness.”

As their images slowly disappeared, I felt both saddened and excited. Finally, I knew something about where I came from.

I got up and put the globe back in its small wooden box. Had it reacted to my presence because I had decided to use my powers for a greater purpose? As I sat on my bed, I smiled and tried the name of the planet out again, “Krypton.”

Shelby wagged his tail and barked.

“You like that word, huh?” I asked. When he barked again, I chuckled, “Maybe I should call you ‘Krypto’ then.” I quickly dismissed the thought, however. Such a name would probably call too much attention to him. It was too close to “cryptic.”

I thought about going back to bed, but I was too excited. I jumped up and padded over to the phone and called my parents.

My sleepy mother answered, “Clark?”

I grinned. Evidently, my time in Metropolis had taught her that I was the only one who would call this late. “Hi, Mom.”

Dad picked up. “Clark?”

“Hi, Dad.”

“What is it, Clark?” Mom asked.

“Sorry to wake you guys — again,” I apologized, feeling a little guilty.

“We’re always glad to hear from you, Clark.… We just wish you called us during daytime hours.”

“The globe glowed,” I told them, barely able to contain myself.

“What?” they asked simultaneously, both of them sounding confused.

I explained everything I had seen, and they seemed impressed. But Mom was still a little skeptical. “Why would it only show you all this now?”

Pacing with my cordless phone, I said, “I’m not sure. But I think it had something to do with a big decision I just made.”

“A big decision?” queried my father.

I took in a deep breath. “I’ve decided to stop with the meteor rock exposure — I’m going to start using all my powers to help people.”

“Oh, Clark!” Mom exclaimed, sounding choked up. “I’m so happy for you.… But you realize that you’re going to have to touch people, don’t you?”

“I know that, Mom.… And I’m preparing myself for it. I’m not going to lie — it’s going to be…tough. But I can do it. I’d like to start touching people again.” Saying that last sentence was scary, but it felt good.

“The first thing I’m going to do the next time I see you is give you a big hug,” Mom proclaimed firmly.

I laughed. “I guess that’s allowed.” However, I quickly sobered. “But there are a few things I need to talk to you about.… I need to know that you’re willing to do what needs to be done if it comes down to it.… I need to know that you’ll use the meteor rock against me if it’s needed.”

“Clark — ”

“And I’m finally going to tell you about what happened in Africa. It’s — it’s important for you to know.”

Filled with apprehension, I began to tell them the story of that dreadful day.

***

I walked into class and sat, glancing beside me at Constance’s chair. She wasn’t in it, but I couldn’t help but find my thoughts drawn to her.

If I was a bit out of place in both Africa and America, Constance wasn’t even to be found on the same map. She was a clear outsider to the group of Americans studying abroad in Africa despite her status as a fellow American, and I couldn’t help but empathize with her a little for it. As someone who was either an alien or the result of a science experiment, I had never completely felt like I fit in either. But her unorthodox ways just turned too many people off, so it wasn’t like I could blame people for avoiding her, even though I occasionally tried — and failed — to include her in our activities.

Constance was obsessed with magic. Her father, it seemed, was a famous illusionist, and he had taught her everything he knew — only to realize belatedly that people weren’t interested in watching a female magician. And so, he had forced her to go to Metropolis University in hopes that she would find a different interest. Judging by her choice of a summer study abroad program, though, it hadn’t worked — it had just given her the opportunity to explore magic further.

It had taken her a while to warm up to me — and even then she was never really what one could call “warm” — but she had eventually told me that she was in the southern part of Africa to study hoodoo. I had instantly made the mental jump to “voodoo,” though I hadn’t been certain that was exactly what she had meant. Upon doing some research into the subject, I learned that hoodoo was a type of African-American folk magic which borrowed from both Native-American and African traditions.… It had seemed to me as if Constance might have had a little more luck in America based on that alone, but I guessed that she probably knew something I didn’t.

She wasn’t the only one at the summer program whose eyes were firmly fixed on something outside the school. Another American, Billy, was there mostly out of interest in the Lion Park, which wasn’t too far from the university. They had lions and plenty of other beasts there — like leopards and hyenas — so a biology guy like him couldn’t be blamed for jumping at the chance to come to Africa.

Yes, Africa held a lot of different things for college-aged students. For me, it was a foretaste of what was to come. I wanted to travel the world after I graduated and eventually do something with my journalism degree…like serve as a foreign correspondent for a newspaper. Working for the Daily Planet was my dream job, but I wasn’t going to pursue that until after I did some traveling and got my Master’s degree. I hoped profusely that I would be able to do the latter at somewhere other than Midwestern State University. The school had a pretty good journalism program, so I couldn’t complain about getting my undergrad there, but I wanted to expand my horizons.

As people began filing into the classroom, I shook myself out of my reverie and began greeting a few familiar faces. When class started, however, I realized Constance was nowhere in sight. I resolved on finding her after school to tell her about the change the professor had made to our homework assignment for the next week. Despite her interest in magic, she did try to make good grades. I suspected it was so that her father wouldn’t become suspicious of her motives, but I didn’t ask her about it.

I sat through my class with interest, and when I was done with school for the day, I intended to track down Constance. My plans were derailed when Billy begged Kenny and me to go on a drive through the Lion Park. Kenny and I agreed with great reluctance, but only because we both knew that Billy hadn’t come across many wild animals and was getting bummed about it. In particular, he hadn’t seen a lion in its native habitat yet, and it was something we’d had to hear him moaning about several times. After eating a quick early dinner, we tried and failed to convince Anthony to come, left him after a period of grumbling, and finally went out in a car that Billy had rented for two weeks. I suspected that to get to the park — with the eager Billy driving at a breakneck pace — would probably take us twenty or thirty minutes. But we hadn’t gone far at all when I — out of a vague curiosity to see what was ahead — used my enhanced vision to zoom in on the park. There, I saw two arguing women, one of whom I recognized. And it was the upset expression on her face that worried me and made me say what I did next.

“Billy,” I said, turning to him, an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Please, stop the car.”

The furrowing of his brow was a clear indicator of his reluctance, but he obeyed my request. After the car had come to a safe halt, however, he looked at me in puzzlement. “What is it, Clark?”

I hesitated. I hated lying, but I needed to get away. “I don’t feel very good — I don’t think dinner is agreeing with me.”

“What? Not enough Dingdongs and Twinkies for you?” Kenny pressed. My penchant for junk food was well known, and Kenny liked to rib me about it.

“That’s it,” I answered with a small smile that quickly faded. “But you two go on.… I’m sorry I can’t go with you guys, Billy. I think I’ll walk back — try to get some fresh air to see if it will help. Maybe I’ll go with you another time?”

“Yeah,” Billy replied sadly.

I felt bad for leaving him alone with Kenny — who I was certain would soon start teasing Billy mercilessly — but one of the women was Constance, and I needed to find out what was happening.

They drove away, and I waited impatiently for them to pass out of sight. Then, after looking around to make sure no one was watching, I sped toward the spot across the road from the Lion Park where I’d heard the voices and where there was a hut of sorts. I considered revealing myself, but instead I hid behind a tree and listened first. I wanted to know what was happening before I just jumped into the middle of things. Maybe everything would be okay…but I had a bad feeling about this.

“I still don’t understand why you won’t teach me,” Constance growled.

An irritated female voice answered, “I already told you, child. Because of your blood-thirst.”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that! I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t.”

In a placating tone, Constance asked, “As a hoodoo practitioner, don’t you want to pass on your knowledge to someone else?”

The woman was quiet for a few seconds before sighing. “All right. You want help, child? Drink this.”

Curious, I pulled down my glasses and used my x-ray vision to look through the tree providing me cover. I did so just in time to see a small glass bottle filled with liquid being exchanged between the two.

Holding the bottle up to her eyes skeptically, Constance asked, “What is it?”

The other woman nodded at it. “Drink that, and you will experience the greatest power known to man and woman.”

Constance lowered the bottle to her side, looking annoyed. “I didn’t ask for a potion. I asked for knowledge.”

“Well, child, we can’t always get what we want, now can we?” the woman returned. She cackled at the expression on Constance’s face and then walked away, muttering to herself in a language I didn’t know.

Constance began a series of colorful expletives beneath her breath as she stared at the bottle in her hands. After a brief period of hesitation, I decided I needed to reveal myself, and I stepped out from behind the tree. But before I could stop her, Constance gulped down the potion in one quick movement.

The action surprised me, and I found myself demanding, “Why did you do that?”

She swiveled to face me. Her eyes narrowed when realized who I was. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” I answered curtly. I crossed my arms and stared at her with all the sternness I could muster. “Constance, if you don’t watch yourself, you could get hurt.”

In annoyance, she began, “Clark — ” But then she suddenly swooned.

I rushed forward at faster-than-human speed and caught her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were closed, and I was about to panic in fear that she was dying, but after a few seconds, she opened her eyes and blinked up at me.

“Clark?” she asked in confusion.

“Are you all right?” I bit out, worried. “What if that potion was poison?”

“Oh, Clark,” Constance whispered, burying her head in my chest.

I suddenly felt confused. “What? What is it?”

“I know what that potion does now.…”

“What?”

“She was right,” she told me softly. “It is the greatest power known to man and woman.…”

I waited for her to expand on her meaning, and when she didn’t, I pushed, “What?”

“Clark…I love you.”

I almost dropped her. “What?” I asked dumbly. A small part of me registered that my communication skills had dropped to parrot level. It was only with extreme effort that I was able to force myself not to say “What?” a fourth time.

“I hate her so much, Clark,” she told me, her voice filled with anger. Her fury was gone a second later, however, when she whispered, “But I love you so much.… I don’t understand how I can feel so many different things at once.…”

“Constance — ” I began uneasily. I didn’t know what to say.

She squirmed out of my arms and looked up at me. “Don’t you love me back, Clark? You’ve been trying to include me in everything from the beginning.…”

I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. “Constance, I barely know you — ”

She tore her gaze away from me. When she finally looked back, her eyes were filled with pain. “Clark, I need to know.… Can you ever love me? Can we ever be together?”

I took a step backward, feeling as if I had been hit by a freight train. This situation was getting more bizarre by the minute.

Finally, my thoughts racing, I managed, “Constance, we’re going down two different paths.… You want to be a great magician, remember? And I’d like to be a journalist. We aren’t exactly compatible career-wise.…” I trailed off. Wincing and feeling like a heel, I added, “And I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you.”

She looked as if she had just been punched in the gut.

Feeling even guiltier, I told her, “Constance, I’m sure this love potion — or whatever it is — will rub off — ”

“No!” she exclaimed, taking me aback. “It can never be removed.”

“What if we go find that woman?” I persisted. “She might know something — ”

“We’re not going to undo the potion.… But you’re right that she might know something to do to change this.… But Clark, I can’t allow that to happen.” She began searching her pocket for something as she calmly told me, “That woman was an evil person, Clark. She admitted to me that she had killed several foreign students.”

I frowned, not believing her. “I didn’t hear her say anything like that — ”

“She said things — terrible things — before you came, Clark. She threatened to kill me. I wanted to run very badly, but I wanted her power more. She was just saying those bad things about me to paint me as being more like her.”

I was fairly certain Constance was becoming unhinged. And I was absolutely certain that I was becoming more uneasy by the second. “Constance — ”

“She is just too dangerous.” She pulled something gleaming out of her pocket. “I’m sorry, Clark.”

“Constance, what are you — ”

***

As I told my parents the rest of the story, I felt as if there was a pressure in my chest that was simultaneously contracting and releasing. It was a blessing to get this burden off my chest — but it was a curse to know that I would have to deal with my parents’ changed opinions of me after I finished my tale.

When I was done, I waited for the rebukes. I waited to hear of their horror.

But all I received from them were expressions of love.

When I finally hung up the phone, I went and lay in my bed for a long time before falling asleep. I had feared that conversation for so many years — had thought I would go to almost any length to prevent it from happening. But now that it had, I was glad.

To know that my parents didn’t think me a monster — well, it was a blessing.

***

Chapter 17: The Walls Come Tumbling Down

Joshua fit the Battle of Jericho,

Jericho, Jericho,

Joshua fit the Battle of Jericho,

And the walls come tumbling down.

— “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho”

***

The next day, I decided to visit Penny’s Pet Palace before work. As I approached the building, I cheerfully whistled “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho” to myself. I smiled as I thought of how Perry would disapprove of the version I had in mind and would insist Elvis’s was better. But I much preferred the Joe and Eddie rendition of the song to Elvis’s. They were both upbeat, but the Joe and Eddie version just had something Elvis’s didn’t.

I paused as the song gave me an idea, and I whispered to myself part of the lyrics: “The walls come tumbling down.…”

I broke out into a grin. I had just decided on the name I would use: “Jericho.” It was a lot better than “Shelby,” that was for sure. The dog had certainly made a wall come tumbling down the night before. And “Jericho” wouldn’t be quite as attention-grabbing as “Krypto.”

I went into the pet store and was greeted by the woman at the counter. “Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Can I help you find anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks — I just need to grab a couple things,” I told her. I went and found a yellow collar that looked as if it would fit Jericho, and I stood and looked at the dog food section for a few minutes before picking out a brand I had heard a few good things about. After grabbing a couple of durable-looking toys, I took all my items up to the counter and told the woman, “I’ll also need a token for the ID machine.…”

“No problem,” she said, scanning the big bag of dog food.

I hesitated. I didn’t want to take the collar for free, but I did want George to know that I had been by. “Is George doing okay?”

The woman, who had been picking up the collar, frowned. “Did you hear about — wait, you must be the guy he told me to watch out for!” She beamed and held out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Penny.”

“Clark,” I returned. I slowly took her hand in mine and shook it. It was going to be hard to get used to touching people again.

“Thank you so much for helping my cousin. He doesn’t know the first thing about self-defense. I’ve told him time and time again to take some classes since he’s gonna live in the big city, but he never listens to me.”

Smiling, I got out my wallet.

“Put that away,” she told me. “This purchase is on the house.”

I shook my head. “I don’t mind paying. I just wanted to make sure George got home safely.”

“Come on.… Let me take care of it this time. Good guys don’t get rewarded for their good deeds very often — better take it while you can.”

I chuckled. Seeing the earnestness in her face, I conceded, “All right.”

“Great!” she exclaimed, pleased. She cancelled what she’d been ringing up and handed me a token for the ID engraving machine. “Just slip it in the slot, pick out a tag, and type in your information.”

“Thank you.… I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” Penny said kindly.

I went to the ID machine and engraved a tag with the name “Jericho” on it, along with my contact information. My good cheer just kept continuing. I hadn’t exposed myself to the meteor rock that morning, and the knowledge that I wasn’t going to have to do so again for a long time — if ever — was like a great weight lifted off my shoulders. I hadn’t felt this genuinely happy in a while.

***

I stopped by my apartment to drop off the new items and quickly walk Jericho. I said the name “Jericho” several times to catch his attention and make him familiar with the name. And then I looked at my watch and grimaced. I needed to head to work.

I dropped him off at my apartment and took a taxi to the Planet. Upon entering the newsroom, I noticed a few people gathered around the televisions, so I joined them to see what was going on.

The LNN news reporter Natalie Lucas was discussing Harrison McGregor. “Reports from early this morning say that McGregor has entered into a plea bargain,” she was saying. Apparently, there was speculation that the sentence for his involvement in the destruction of the Sallya Technologies building would be a lot shorter than it might have been.

Hearing about that made me suspicious. It didn’t help that Sheldon Bender — a lawyer known to work frequently with Lex Luthor — was in charge of McGregor’s defense. McGregor had to be taking the fall in exchange for something.

Lois was out covering a press conference according to Jimmy, so I did a little digging into McGregor’s finances with Jimmy’s help. We found that a substantial deposit had been made into McGregor’s bank account and that McGregor’s wife was driving a new Porsche.

“Looks like we’re on to something, C.K.,” the young man commented.

I nodded grimly. “I think you’re right. If Sheldon Bender is involved, we might have found a connection to LexCorp.”

“Kent!” Perry White barked from the doorway of his office. “My office!”

I turned to look at the Chief Editor, but he had gone back to his desk. I gestured vaguely at the computer and told Jimmy, “You keep on looking to see if you can find anything else — like maybe who made that deposit.”

“Got it,” he acknowledged, intent on the monitor.

When I entered Perry White’s office, he asked immediately, “What are you working on?” There was never time for small talk with Perry White.

“Harrison McGregor has to be taking the fall for someone,” I responded. “I think there might be a connection to LexCorp.”

He nodded. “That may be, son, but you also might be chasing ghosts.… Do you have anything concrete yet?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been hitting a lot of dead ends. Jimmy might be able to find out something, but I’m not sure.”

He pulled down a pencil tucked behind his ear and chewed on the end of it for a few seconds. “All right. Here’s what I want you to do, Clark. Now, don’t drop the story — just put it on the backburner. There are rumors of illegal immigrants being harbored in Metropolis, and I’d like for you look into that for me. It could be another ghost, but there are a few politicians going into a frenzy about it.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I hadn’t been at the Planet long enough to really earn that right. I knew there was a story here — but I wasn’t sure I could prove it. So instead, I just told him, “Okay, Chief,” and I left his office feeling a little defeated.

Lois had returned by this point, and she looked up at me from her desk. “What’s wrong, farmboy?”

Standing by her, I shrugged. “Though he didn’t come out and say it, I think he just killed my story.”

She patted me consolingly. “Don’t worry, Perry does th — ” Suddenly, she realized she had just touched me. “Oh, Clark, I’m so sorry — I wasn’t thinking — ”

“It’s all right,” I rushed to assure her. “I’m — well, I’m getting over it.” I shrugged uncomfortably.

Lois tilted her head and studied me for a few seconds, as if to determine whether or not I was serious. Evidently, she was satisfied, as she told me with a smile, “I knew you would come around eventually.”

I smiled at her, lost in the dark brown pools of her eyes until she dragged me out by saying, “As a movement in that direction.…” She held her arm out for me to hook it with my own. After only briefly hesitating, I did so. “Now, I know this nearby café which makes great sandwiches.…”

I was surprised to realize how much I enjoyed the simple feeling of Lois’s arm in mine, and I couldn’t help but grin wider.

As Lois and I left for lunch, we passed by Cat, who winked at me.

***

After work, I felt I was flying as high as a kite — and as soon as it was dark, I was, my dark rescue gear on and Jericho wrapped in a black blanket in my arms. I was worried at first as to how the dog would take to flying, but he absolutely loved it. The smells high up in the air were unlike the ones he was used to, and he eagerly looked over my arms at the scenery below. He started to bark, but I sharply told him, “Bad dog,” and he stopped, looking penitent.

I dropped down in front of my parents’ house and let Jericho jump to the ground, though I held onto his leash so he wouldn’t run off. His nose was working furiously, and I chuckled to myself. I would have to take him to look at some cows later.

Almost as soon as I had opened the door, my mom came barreling toward me to embrace me in a bear hug. Despite her small stature, I almost lost my balance and fell over. “Whoa, Mom, take it easy,” I teased. But I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I enjoyed her embrace — it had been far too long. I hadn’t realized how much the simple touch of another person could increase one’s sense of well being.

Mom squeezed me tighter. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to let go of you, Clark Jerome Kent.”

I raised an eyebrow, pulling my arms around her. “My full name, huh? I must be in trouble then.”

Dad was soon right there with us. To any outsider, we would have looked like a ridiculous jumble of bodies. To us, however, we were just members of a family expressing our affection for each other, albeit enthusiastically.

Jericho jumped and pawed my mom’s legs, eager for attention. She pulled away and looked down. “And this must be Shelby,” she said as she knelt and gave the dog some attention.

“Jericho, actually,” I corrected as I let go of Dad, who patted my shoulder, as if to assure himself that I was still there. “I renamed him this morning. I don’t want him to be too obviously connected to his former life — people might come looking for him otherwise.” I bent and unclipped his leash from his collar. “He’s housebroken, so you don’t have to worry about him. But I probably wouldn’t let him outside unsupervised — he might start scaring the livestock.”

“Aww, not him,” Mom said in baby-talk, rubbing the sides of his face. Jericho wagged his tail enthusiastically. “I love him already,” she proclaimed, standing up. Jericho, not receiving attention any longer, decided he wanted to investigate the house, and he trotted off.

“So, you’re wanting a costume, huh?” Dad inquired.

I nodded. “Yeah — some sort of outfit that will distinguish me, Clark Kent, from my rescue persona.…”

“Hm,” Dad grunted. “And you said no black, right?”

“Yeah. I want this new figure to be completely different from the Black Knight. I don’t want anyone thinking he has something to hide.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you talking about yourself in the third person is going to become a frequent occurrence around here?” Mom said, the corners of her mouth turning upward. “All right, Clark. Come with me into the bedroom. I’ve picked out some different colors, and I need your input.”

“I’ll be in here if you need me,” Dad called out after us.

Mom and I went into the other room. Various fabrics were lined out on the bed, most of them in bright colors. Pulling out a notepad, she showed me some sketches she’d made.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why do most of them have a cape?”

She grinned. “Well, for one, it will look great while you’re flying.… More practically speaking, it will also cover up the zipper in the back.… And you know, honey, your suit will have to be skintight to cut down on wind resistance — I thought you might like the cape to cover up your rear at least.”

“Mom!” I sputtered, blushing as red as a fire engine.

“What?” she asked with an innocent expression.

I flipped through the sketchpad again. “What’s with this underwear on the outside theme?”

She crossed her arms, prepared to defend her cause. “Clark, the purpose of the suit is to be flashy and keep people’s eyes more on your body than your face.… This design would keep people thinking more about your…other assets.”

I could not believe I was having this conversation with my mother. “And the tall boots?” I asked weakly.

“Another stylistic choice. We want eye-catching, remember?” Her brow suddenly furrowed. “I just remembered something!”

She knelt on the floor by the bed and pulled a trunk out from under the bed. Opening it, she pulled out a blue blanket, which she caressed lovingly.

“This is the blanket we found you in,” she told me. “And this was also with you.” She reached down and got out a thin piece of fabric in the shape of a pentagon, which she handed to me. It looked as if it belonged on the front of a shirt, like a logo or an insignia of some kind. The exterior of the pentagon was outlined in red which continued on to form what looked like an “S.” The background was yellow.

As I traced the “S” with a finger, I said, “Jor-El and Lara were wearing a similar symbol, though the color was different.… I wonder if different classes wore different symbols? Or if it was a family crest.…” I frowned in thought. “Or maybe it indicated different careers.…”

“If it indicated different careers, they probably wouldn’t have sent it with you,” Mom pointed out. “It was probably a symbol of something. And now, we can make it symbolize something else — the battle for good. I think it would look great in the middle of your chest.”

“I don’t want to use the original,” I said hesitatingly. “But I wouldn’t mind using a facsimile of it.…”

Mom smiled. “Great. We’ll just need to make sure the color scheme matches.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

***

We sketched out what felt like a hundred different versions of outfits. We experimented with stripes, dots, zigzags. We looked at designs with and without belts, shorts, and capes. We sketched masks covering the eyes, masks covering half the face, masks covering all the face. We drew hats, cuffs, bandannas.… We even tried looking at different kinds of shoes. The more sketches we did, the sloppier our drawings seemed to get. But at last we narrowed our preferences down to a few pictures.

We debated a few different color schemes — we knew we were using red and yellow, but we weren’t certain if we wanted a third and possibly even a fourth color as well. Simplicity was key, but my mother kept getting this gleam in her eyes as she came up with new ideas.

“The blue will help tone down the red and yellow just a bit,” Mom argued, and I quickly agreed with her. The baby blanket sent in my ship with me had been blue, and it had looked good when contrasted with the “S” logo.

In regard to accessories, we agreed that I would definitely have a full-length cape and long boots that didn’t quite reach my knees. However, Mom was having a hard time convincing me about the need for a belt and shorts. “Clark, I’m telling you,” she argued, “the shorts are a good idea.… Just think — if we have blue as the primary color of your tights, red or yellow shorts would stand out nicely.”

I sighed, knowing this was one battle I wouldn’t win. “Make the shorts red, I guess. I’d rather minimize the yellow. I don’t want to blind anyone.”

Grinning triumphantly, she told me, “Okay. We’ll make the cape and shorts red, but we’ll make the belt yellow. How’s that sound?”

I buried my face in a pillow. “I’m going to look ridiculous.”

“No, you’re going to be eye-catching,” she insisted firmly. “Now, do we want a mask or not?”

Sighing, I removed my head from its position against the pillow and looked at her. “I don’t know.… I don’t want to look like I have something to hide.”

She stared at my face and took off my glasses, considering me. Then she reached forward and brushed my hair back. “Clark — go get some hair gel and slick your hair all the way back like you did for the high school prom.”

I groaned. “Don’t tell me you remember that?” After I had gotten the pictures back from prom years ago and looked at them, I had begun to think slicking my hair back made me look like a drowned rat.

“Just scoot!” she ordered.

Narrowly avoiding her swat at my rear (I didn’t think she’d ever be able to truly think of me as a man rather than her little boy), I disappeared for a few minutes to do as she asked. After applying liberal amounts of gel, I stared into the mirror with wide eyes. I knew now what she was going for — I looked like a different person.

When I returned to the bedroom, she was measuring out fabric and getting ready to begin her sewing project. Upon seeing me, a smile spread across her face. “I was right!” she crowed. “You look almost like a complete stranger. You’ll be hiding in plain sight, and no one will even realize it.… Though, I must admit, based on the design we’re going for, there probably won’t be anyone looking at your face.”

“Mom!” I gaped. I had blushed more in the past few hours than I had in the past few years.

“They’re called tights for a reason,” she returned with a grin. “Now, what do you think about putting another version of this ‘S’ shield on the back of your cape?”

I gave her a dubious look. “The red of the ‘S’ won’t look good on it.”

“So we make it a different color — what if it’s blue and yellow instead?”

“How about just one color?” I suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. Now, come over here so I can measure your feet. I’ll order you some red boots, but in the meantime, we’re going to use fabric ones as a temporary solution so you can start right away. I don’t want you changing your mind because your costume didn’t come together fast enough.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t comment.

“I do have a pair of your old shoes that we can use the soles from — we can glue them to some fabric, and that should make do for now.… Would you also like the symbol on your belt?”

Shaking my head, I told her, “No. Two places is enough.”

“How about you sketch it out? You’re faster than I am at it.”

As the corners of my lips drew upward — I knew she was just wanting me to use one of my special abilities — I grabbed a pencil and quickly sketched out a version of what we had discussed. “There.”

She stared at the drawing and took the pencil from me. “What do you think of having a yellow circle around your ‘S,’ Clark?” She lightly drew it as an example.

I stared at it for a few seconds before replying, “No, I don’t think so. Simplicity, remember?”

“You’re right,” she agreed as she used the pencil’s eraser to remove the circle. “Can you go and fetch my colored pencils? I want to get an idea of what this looks like.”

I zipped out of the room and returned a second later with the pencils, not missing the satisfied expression on Mom’s face. I colored in our final design and then made another version of the cape on the next page. Since our drawing didn’t show the back of the costume, I wanted to see what the “S” would look like. I sketched a version of the symbol at the top of the cape before changing my mind and erasing it. Then I drew it in a more central location on the cape.

“That’s definitely better,” Mom commented.

I grabbed the blue pencil and started coloring the symbol in before grimacing. “Yellow would be better, I think,” I muttered, erasing the blue marks I’d made as best as I could and then coloring the symbol in with the yellow pencil.

She squeezed my shoulder. “It looks great, honey. I can’t wait to see what it looks like.”

“I can,” I sighed. Still, there was a small part of me that was excited. This was the beginning of a whole new life.

***

I went into the bathroom to change. The mirror wasn’t that big, but there was a full-length one in my parents’ bedroom. Still, I wasn’t certain that I wanted to exit the bathroom. I felt like a walking target, even if I was invulnerable.

I pushed back a curl of hair on my forehead and smoothed it down with gel. Would this work?

Somehow, I felt that it would. The man I saw in the mirror was nothing like Clark Kent. How could anyone ever draw a connection between him and me?

I adjusted my cape and opened the bathroom door. As I went into my Mom’s bedroom, the soles of my makeshift boots clicked gently on the floor.

“Wow,” was what Mom first said when she saw me. “Oh, honey.” She came quickly toward me for what I thought was another hug, but then I realized she was examining the skintight fabric. “I’ll need to make a few adjustments,” she told me as she got some pins, “but this is going to work.”

“You really think so?” I asked unsurely as I surveyed myself in the mirror.

She smiled. “I know so.”

***

After the adjustments to the suit were made to Mom’s satisfaction, we walked into the living room. Jericho was sitting on the couch beside Dad, who was watching television.

Hearing my approach, Jericho looked up and barked, running over to me in excitement.

“Sit,” I commanded, not wanting him to scratch up my new suit, and he complied, though he still seemed to be grinning at me.

“Clark,” my father said in wonder as he stood and looked at me.

“What do you think, Dad?” I asked, still not feeling confident.

“I think you’re going to blow them all away.”

I gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I don’t know — you really think I’m much to speak of?”

Jericho barked.

“I’d say he thinks so,” Mom told me as she knelt to pet him. “Maybe you should use him as your sidekick.”

I rolled my eyes. With a gesture to my suit, I said, “I can’t have anyone connecting this person to Clark Kent like that. If we both had the same dog, it would be a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

The small Kansas woman crossed her arms stubbornly. “Not necessarily. You know, Clark, as busy are you’re going to be, you probably won’t have much time to spend with a pet unless you involve him in your rescues.… I did some research on American Eskimos. They’re high-energy dogs that thrive on activity. You don’t exactly have a big backyard that he can run around in.… And besides, parts of his fur are dyed black. If you can have a separate persona, why not Jericho as well? You could distinguish between his personas with the presence and absence of spots just like you distinguish between your personas with a costume.… You could even give him a cape if you wanted.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “I’m not giving him a cape.”

“Just think about it at least,” Mom pressed.

I held my hands up. “All right.” My eyebrows turned inward as I considered the idea. I could distinguish further between Jericho’s personas with different-colored collars and different names — maybe I could even use the name “Krypto,” which I had previously discarded. Using and removing the dye might get annoying, but I could move fast enough that it wouldn’t be a big deal.… And besides, it would be nice to have a partner.…

“Are you going to go start now?” Mom asked eagerly. I could sense she was trying with everything she had to keep me on my current path. She and my father supported me whole-heartedly in this, and it made me feel good.

“I was wondering if I could leave Jericho with you both for a while?” I asked, sidestepping her question. “To separate him from the animals Sallya Technologies was experimenting on, I want to create a story around him. We’ve had dogs occasionally on the farm, so nobody should think it strange to see him around here.… I’d like you to even plan a few sightings of him with some Smallville residents. When asked about him, you could tell them you’ve had him for a little while and intend to send him up to live with me soon.”

“We wouldn’t mind doing that, Clark,” Mom said, “and that should help protect your side of the story.… But if you do use him as a sidekick, he will probably be quickly connected to that animal research.… You might even be connected to it.”

“Assuming I did use him to help me, I would probably need to have an interview to clear that up.… Maybe if the public learns that I’m from another planet, they’ll just assume he is, too. At least we can make it ambiguous.… And maybe if they think he can do more than he actually can, they’ll leave him alone. I know he can’t be killed by bullets at least.”

“So, you’re sure you want us to create this background story for him?” Dad asked.

I nodded. “For one thing, Lois doesn’t know I have him.… And if she realized I was holding out on her in the Sallya Technologies story, she’d be — well, royally displeased, to say the least.”

Casually, Mom asked, “Is she going to be the one who does your first interview?”

I flushed. The thought had crossed my mind. “I don’t know,” I managed, trying to sound as if the question hadn’t affected me. “Maybe.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think I’m going to just go dive right in,” I said, moving the subject away from Lois Lane. “It’s kind of scary, but there’s no time like the present, I guess.”

Dad came and gave me a hug. “I know you’ll make us proud, son.”

“I’ll certainly try,” I said softly.

***

Chapter 18: A Real Life Hero

A real life hero with dashing handsome looks …

— “What Every Woman Lives For”

***

My debut in Metropolis was…well, probably not exactly what my parents had expected. And really, it wasn’t entirely what I had intended.

After I started scanning the city for signs of trouble, I got nervous. When I saw a mugger in an alley far below me, I knew I had to do something. But the thought of staying afterwards and talking to the victim terrified me. I would have to explain myself, answer questions.… And I just wasn’t ready for that.

And so, I worked quickly enough and carefully enough that my face remained unseen. I bent the mugger’s gun and tied him up with a sign post right before speeding away.

Throughout the night, I responded to some cries for help and assisted with a few accidents. The biggest thing I did, however, was help out in a fire.

The smoke at the fire had been so thick that the victims hadn’t been able to make out my face, and I generally moved fast enough that they wouldn’t be able to see me anyway. But there were enough people around that they had to have seen something, and I had the feeling that the story would make the news. And when it did, the other people I had helped throughout the night would probably come forward, too.

Soon, I would need to show myself fully. But for that night, I let myself just enjoy anonymity…and the knowledge that everyone I had tried to save that night lived.

***

The next morning, the newsroom was buzzing.

I wasn’t sure how the news spread so quickly, but it did. Interviews with firefighters and the people I had rescued were splattered all over the TV. I was staring up at the newsroom televisions when I heard Perry White bark, “Lois! Clark! My office now!”

Swallowing nervously, I lifted my eyes to meet Lois’s. She was talking on the phone with a glint in her eye and hung up reluctantly. “Let’s go,” she told me sharply.

The Chief Editor began as soon as we shut the door. “Now, I want you find everything you can only this ‘Red-Blue Blur’ character.”

“Red-Blue Blur?” I echoed.

“That’s what they’re calling him. All they know is that someone has been doing unbelievable things at incredible speeds. No one’s seen his face — just a red and blue blur. Now, I’m not sure if this is a hoax or what, but evidently people are in an uproar about it. Whether this is the Black Knight in some new duds or not, I’m not sure. But you have to admit this is all a little fishy. Why won’t he show his face? Why isn’t he talking to anyone? Does he have something to hide? Disfigurement, maybe? And where are all these powers coming from?”

“Perry, I’ve got this story,” Lois told him.

“Now, Lois, this could be big — you need to work on this with Clark.”

“Lois is right,” I hastened to assure him, not exactly feeling inclined to write about what I had done. “I’m working on a few other things — she can handle it.”

“You can drop those other things,” the Chief Editor stated bluntly. “You two are working on this together, and that’s that. Now, git!”

Lois and I exchanged a look before meekly exiting Perry White’s office.

“As long as we’re working on this together, I might as well come clean,” Lois said grudgingly. “I talked to a few of my sources. Apparently, this Red-Blue Blur might have helped out with a car wreck at a traffic light. There were some drunk teenagers out late who ran a red light and hit someone. Fortunately, no one was killed, though it’s possible we have the Blur to thank for that.”

I barely refrained from grimacing. It had taken all my effort not to stop and give those teenagers a stern talking-to. But they had been hurt, so I had flown their car to the hospital, careful to hide my face and not go too fast. It probably would have been a lot easier for me to simply show my face, but I knew there would be no going back once that happened, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t regretting my decision to help people the next day. I wasn’t regretting it, as it turned out, but I still had wanted to take the precaution.

Lois picked up her coat, purse, and briefcase, heading for the elevator.

“So, where are we going now?” I asked as I hurried after her.

“To see Henderson. I’ll bet we can convince him to give us a copy of that tape.”

***

Inspector Bill Henderson looked up from his desk as we walked in. “Lane and Kent,” he proclaimed. “I knew it would be simply a matter of time before I saw your two mugs in here.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Henderson,” Lois said. “Are you going to give us that tape or not?”

“Tape?” he echoed innocently. “Why, what tape would that be?”

“The tape that traffic light recorded last night,” Lois gritted. “The tape with this ‘Red-Blue Blur’ man in it.”

He gave us a crooked smile. “You know, he lives up to his name. All you’ll see when you look at it is a red blue blur — and just a hint of red boots and a red cape. The guy moves too fast, and the angle isn’t right for when he lifts the car into the air. If you’re wanting a good front page picture, then this isn’t what you want.… If, however, you just want something, then we might be able to talk.”

“It’ll be one of many things we will be using in our story,” Lois bit out vaguely.

“Uh huh,” Henderson replied, amused. “Well, if you have so many things already, then you probably don’t need this.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a tape, which he then held up in the air.

“Just give us the tape, Henderson.”

“There are conditions, Lane.”

“And what are those?” I asked, giving Lois a warning look.

“Oh, just the usual. You keep us up-to-date on your investigation — especially if you learn this guy poses a threat. He seems helpful enough now, but you can never tell.”

“Done,” Lois agreed, snatching the tape away from the detective. “Keep in touch with us.”

She sped out the door with her prize in hand, and Henderson looked at me. “She’s a handful.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, following after her.

***

“Henderson was right,” Lois said with a sigh less than an hour later. “This tape is basically useless.” She stopped the video of what had been recorded at the traffic light. “But at least we will have something to go on the front page.”

Jimmy was passing by, and Lois waved him over. “Jimmy — do you think you could get us some pictures from this tape? None of them will be very good — just do your best.”

“Sure thing,” he replied amiably.

Then Lois looked at me. “Now, we go interview a few people. Maybe they can give us some sort of description.”

***

After talking to some people and not learning anything more about my physical description in the costume, Lois and I returned to the Planet and began our article. Jimmy had placed several photos on Lois’s desk, and we chose a few of the better ones to show Perry White.

Lois started with the headline:

IS THE BLACK KNIGHT BACK —

IN RED AND BLUE?

“We need to be careful that we don’t make any assumptions,” I pointed out. “This Black Knight may not be the same person as the Red-Blue Blur.”

“I think they are,” she replied as she typed. “It’s just too convenient otherwise.”

I bit back a reply, not wanting to seem suspicious. But I was getting worried. If the Black Knight was forever connected with this new persona, it could be bad for me. The costume used by the Black Knight had obviously been the outfit of someone trying to hide something. That was the opposite of what I was going for with this new outfit.

I watched as she continued writing, and then I pointed at a spot on her screen. “That’s not spelled right.”

“They’re called editors, Clark,” she retorted, her fingers still flying over the keys.

Rolling my eyes, I waited until she paused in her writing. Then, I shifted her keyboard toward me and went back and changed a few words and phrases. Next, I added a few sentences and moved a few others around.

Lois glared at me the entire time. Finally, she said, “Don’t edit my copy.”

“This is our story,” I returned calmly, “and I’m going to play a part. I intend to pull my weight.”

She muttered something unintelligible, and I ignored her. After adding a paragraph at the end, I said, “There!”

“Are you sure you don’t need to move a comma around?” she asked sarcastically. “Can I send it to Perry now, or do I need to wait until you put a gold star on it?”

Simultaneously irked and amused, I walked to my desk, grabbed a piece of scrap paper, and drew a star on it. I returned and handed it to her. “There. It’s not gold, but it carries with it my seal of approval nonetheless.”

As she sent the article with a glare and I returned to my desk, I heard her muttering about the incomprehensible humor of Kansas farmboys. It was all I could do to refrain from making a comment about the stubborn willfulness of city girls.

***

After work, I called my parents, knowing they would want to hear from me.

I learned quickly that they had heard all the buzz. Apparently, they’d been flipping through news channels for every scrap of detail they could find.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t show anybody your face,” Mom commented. “You can’t stay out of the spotlight forever, and people seem to be getting suspicious. They’d almost forgotten about the Black Knight, and now here’s this Blur figure. You’ll need to talk to somebody soon.”

“I know, I know,” I acknowledged. “I just wanted to try it this way first.… See how it felt.”

“And how did it feel, son?” Dad asked.

I grinned into the receiver. “It felt good.”

Dad laughed, and I could hear the smile in Mom’s voice as she said, “So, it went without a hitch?”

“Yes, unless you call me having to do a story about myself a hitch.…”

Chuckling, Mom told me, “I’m sure it won’t be the last time. There’s one thing you’re going to have to get used to — the publicity.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I admitted. That was definitely the darker side of doing something that put me in the limelight.

“Now, Clark, I checked out some dog training books from the library, and I’ve already started working with Jericho.”

“Mom — ”

“You don’t have to decide now, but the reason for your decision is not going to be that he’s not trained well enough. I’ve done a little research and fast forwarded through a few movies for some ideas. We’ve already made him one of the best rescue dogs you’ve ever seen, and we still have more to teach him.”

“We?” I questioned.

“Well, Jericho needs someone to save, doesn’t he? Your father’s been playing the role of damsel in distress quite well.”

In surprise, I ventured, “Dad?”

“She’s right, son,” he confirmed. “I make quite the helpless maiden. I just haven’t gotten the screaming part down yet.”

I shook my head to myself, chuckling. “The things you learn.…”

“Well, what I’ve learned is that Jericho is remarkably smart,” Mom said, pride coloring her voice. “He learns quickly. We’re trying to teach him commands that will help with the more common situations like mugging and fires, though we are also getting a bit creative.”

“Your Mom’s really enjoying herself,” Dad told me. “She’s getting into this as much as she got into that twenty-foot-tall metal sculpture she was working on five years ago.”

I raised my eyebrows, shifting the phone to my other ear. “Wow. She must really be serious then.…”

“I know you aren’t sure whether or not you want him to help you, Clark, but you could use a partner out there. And I know Jericho won’t enjoy just staying home all day.” Mom moved away from the receiver, and I could hear her saying, “Speak.” Obligingly, Jericho let out a sharp bark.

I sighed. “You might be right, Mom. I guess I could do things to protect his identity — when I wanted him to help me, I could remove the black spots and add the yellow collar. Returning him to normal would just be adding the spots and switching to a black collar.… Since I can move really fast and he has tough skin, I guess it should be easy enough.”

“Exactly,” Mom agreed, sounding pleased.

***

It was a bank robbery that finally served as the debut of my face.

I had secretly wanted it to be something more dramatic, like a runaway subway car, but it was probably best that it worked out the way it did. After all, I didn’t like the idea of someone getting hurt. And a runaway subway car was bound to scare someone into having a heart attack.

When I heard an alarm going off, I flew to the Bank of Metropolis. I hovered above the building and used my x-ray vision to see what was going on.

There were three people inside wearing all-black outfits and ski masks. One of them was holding a businessman hostage — probably a workaholic who was there late.

The person with the hostage seemed furious, and he made a gesture to the others with his gun. Seeing my opening, I took it. A few seconds later, the hostage was freed, the three guns were crushed into scrap metal, and the bank robbers were outside the bank with a street sign wrapped around them. I hated destroying public property — again — but people didn’t exactly leave rope lying around. It seemed like it was something I needed to start carrying.

The criminals tried to get free, but the pole was wrapped too tightly around them. I looked at it one more time just to make sure it wasn’t so tight that it was hurting them, but it appeared to be fine. I refrained from heaving a sigh of relief. Moving people at extra-human speed and using my extreme strength around them were two activities I didn’t relish. Not too long ago, I had refused to touch people; to be forced to have contact with them in this fashion was a personal nightmare.… But I would need to get used to it. There was a lot that I could do to help the people of Metropolis.

“Don’t even try to escape,” I warned them. “I’m faster than you.”

“What are you?” one man sneered. “A reject from the circus?”

“I’m your worst nightmare,” I told him, crossing my arms and looking menacing. I wanted to be an image that they would never forget.

“Boss, I wouldn’t mess with him,” I heard one man whisper.

“I’ll mess with who I want,” snarled the leader. But he didn’t say anything else.

The businessman exited the bank and approached me slowly. He pointed at the three men. “Did you do that?” he asked with a shaky voice.

“I did,” I acknowledged.

“Who are you?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t chosen a name for myself. Last time, the press had just named me.… Perhaps I needed to come up with a name, but I didn’t want to use “Kal-El,” so I just decided to hold off on making a decision about it.

“A friend of the law,” I said at last. “I am here to see that justice is served.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he replied with a smile. “I don’t know how you did that,” he paused and nodded toward the three men, “but it’s good that you did. They tripped one of the alarms, but they were almost in, so they just kept working. A few minutes later, and they would have been gone. The police have been really busy at night these past few years.… The crime rate just seems to get higher and higher.”

“Well, I’m here in Metropolis to stay. Maybe my presence will start to dissuade some people from choosing the life of a criminal.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “Can I — go to the press with this? They’re calling you the Red-Blue Blur.… Metropolis has a lot of questions for you. It might give some people hope to know that you’re here to stay.”

I smiled at him. “I think the Daily Planet would be a good place to start.”

It was about that time when the police cars pulled up. Policemen jumped out with their guns…and then looked utterly confused when they saw three men on the sidewalk with a signpost tied around them.

“Officers,” I said in a commanding voice, trying to project an image of authority, “arrest these men for attempted bank robbery.”

“Who are you?” one of the officers asked, his suspicion obvious.

“He’s the Red-Blue Blur,” supplied the businessman helpfully. “He stopped them from robbing the bank by tying that sign around them.”

“You’re the Red-Blue Blur?” a different officer ventured.

I nodded. “I trust you can take it from here, gentlemen.” I was not going to stick around to give yet another police statement. I was beginning to be sick of them.

I floated in the air slowly, making sure they could see me clearly. I gave a slight nod and something that was halfway between a wave and a salute, and then I sped away, leaving behind only a sonic boom.

That had felt good.

***

Chapter 19: Puppy Lovin’

Greatest case of puppy lovin’ you ever saw …

— “A Dog’s Life”

***

When I got to the Planet in the morning, I found the businessman talking to Lois. Nervous I might be recognized as the Red-Blue Blur — how foolproof was my disguise anyway? — I planted myself at a distance from them. But Jimmy noticed me observing them and rushed over.

“He just got here,” he explained. “Evidently, there was a bank robbery last night, and the Red-Blue Blur showed up.… Only, he didn’t stay a blur this time. The guy actually saw his face.”

I raised my eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Really?”

“Yep. When he came in and said all that, I pointed him straight to Lois. I thought about trying to take on the story by myself — to try to get Perry off my back — but I knew Lois would kill me.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “You’re probably right.”

I watched for a few minutes before going to get some coffee. Lois was listening to the man with rapt attention, hanging on his every word — but also interrupting frequently to ask for clarification on something. I wanted to use my special hearing to listen in, but I forced myself to give them some privacy. When I noticed Lois handing him a pen and paper, however, I couldn’t help but watch and use my enhanced vision.

The businessman drew a picture of the Kryptonian symbol that had been on my chest. He was no artist, but it was a passable effort. The shape of the pentagon he drew was slightly off, and the “S” lacked its crook at the top, but it would do for the Daily Planet’s purposes.

When the man left, Lois worked frantically, and then she disappeared into Perry White’s office with her story. I couldn’t help but use both my x-ray vision and my enhanced hearing to watch and listen in.

Lois first handed him the picture the businessman had drawn.

“What in the Sam Hill is this?” asked the editor, staring at the paper in his hand.

“The symbol on the Red-Blue Blur’s chest according to an eyewitness at a bank robbery last night,” Lois proclaimed triumphantly.

The Chief Editor’s head whipped up. “You mean — someone saw what he looked like?”

“Exactly,” Lois said, slapping her story down on his desk. “According to my eyewitness, this man can fly and move incredibly fast, and he has the strength of at least ten men.”

“And you say he was seen at a bank robbery?” he asked for clarification.

“Yes,” she confirmed with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. “He stopped three criminals in their tracks.”

“Did the police see him?”

Lois’s grin grew wider. “Yes.”

“And do you know what the ‘S’ stands for?”

She frowned. “Well, we definitely can’t keep calling him the Red-Blue Blur.… A man that can fly.… He’s a pretty amazing superhero for that alone. What about Superman?”

I winced to myself; maybe I should have given the businessman a name. “Super” wasn’t the first word I would have used to describe myself.

But it was too late now. Perry White was pointing a pair of fingers at her and telling her, “That’s brilliant, Lois.” He waved her story in the air, “I’ll make a few minor changes to this and substitute in that new name, and we’ll run this story. You go ahead and talk to the police. Maybe we can get enough information out of them for a follow-up.”

“I’m on it, Perry,” Lois said as she exited his office.

The Chief Editor was right behind her. A few seconds later, he was shouting to the whole bullpen. “All right, everybody! The Red-Blue Blur has shown his face. Come into the conference room in fifteen minutes for an impromptu meeting. Everyone is going to be keeping their eyes peeled for more information on him, but first we have a few things to tell you.” He turned to Lois, who was looking unhappy. In a quieter voice, he said, “Lois, bring a printout of your story to the meeting.”

“Perry — Superman is my story.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but when it comes to a man that flies — assuming this isn’t a hoax — all bets are off.”

“But Perry — ”

He waved her efforts off and retreated to his office.

She turned and surveyed the newsroom with a grim look, as if to warn everyone that whoever dared to steal her Superman story would be charred to a crisp by the sheer force of her will.

I smiled to myself. She wouldn’t have to worry about me. I had no intention of connecting the name “Clark Kent” to Superman this early in the game.

***

I decided to look into the pet dye Keira Fisher had told me about on my lunch break. Sometimes, I went to eat with Lois, who didn’t have many friends at the Planet, but I was giving her a wide berth today. She was on a rampage, and I would no sooner try to hinder her progress than I would attempt to stop a hurricane. There were some things a person just didn’t do.

At S.T.A.R. Labs, I showed my Press ID and requested to meet Dr. Klein. He was alone in a laboratory mixing some chemicals when I entered. He was a kind-looking bald man in a white lab coat, and I felt heartened on seeing him.

“Can I help you?” he questioned.

“I’m Clark Kent from the Daily Planet,” I introduced myself. “Keira Fisher came to me before her death, seeking help.…” I hesitated, trying to think of how to speak in a way that was misdirecting but not lying. “She was trying to find homes for the animals Sallya Technologies was experimenting on, and she mentioned you knew the formula for a pet dye and for a ‘spot-remover.’ I was wondering if you could teach me how to make it?”

“What formula?” he said guardedly.

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.

He gave in without much more fight. “All right. I’ll teach you. But I’d prefer you kept my involvement in this private. She was killed, and I’d really rather not meet the same fate.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Klein,” I hastened to assure him. “I’ve become a part of this myself. You keep my involvement quiet, and I won’t say a word to anyone about yours.… I just need the dye and the remover to help with the project Keira Fisher started — disguising an animal to obscure its origins.”

Klein nodded. “It is easy enough to make at home if you have the materials. It’s also instantaneous — the fur soaks up the dye, so all you have to do is rub a towel over it to remove the excess, and then you’re done. The spot remover is a little more difficult to use, but it’s not complicated either.”

“Great,” I said. Noticing he appeared a little apprehensive, I told him, “I promise I won’t advertise your involvement in this. You can trust me, Dr. Klein. A reporter always protects his sources.”

He stared at me for a few seconds before giving a slight nod. “Okay. Now, to make the dye.…”

***

A few days later, it seemed Superman was the only topic of conversation in the entirety of Metropolis.

I began doing a lot of things during the day in my Superman garb, dashing from the office to help people in need, but fortunately Lois was busy and didn’t notice my unusual behavior. Some pictures were taken of me in the suit as a result of my activities, and amazingly enough some street-side merchants had already begun selling Superman merchandise. Knowing it was capitalism at work didn’t make me feel any better about it.

“He’s just amazing,” Lois commented as she passed by me and sat at her desk.

Looking at her, I asked, “Who?” But I had a pretty good idea.

“Superman,” she replied, a “duh” clearly implied by her tone of voice.

“Sounds like he’s really impressed you,” I remarked, privately amused. I hadn’t thought Lois was the type to be swept off her feet by a superhero.

“He’s just done so much good already.… Metropolis really needs someone like him.”

I studied her, wondering at her reaction. Finally, I asked, “Who do you think is the coolest fictional hero?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Any reason you’re asking, Kent?”

“Clark,” I corrected. “And I’m just curious.”

Lois thought about it for a minute. “Mystique,” she said at last.

I gave her a skeptical look.

“She’s an X-Men character.”

“I know that,” I returned. “But she’s technically a villain, not a hero.”

Lois crossed her arms. “She’s not a villain all the time,” she defended.

“All right, fine,” I conceded. “Why do you think Mystique is the coolest fictional hero?”

“She’s a woman who knows what she wants…and she can get behind all those closed doors.”

I shook my head and grinned at her. “You really do have to know everyone’s secrets, don’t you?”

“Not everyone’s,” she returned. “I’d rather not know my plumber’s secrets.”

I laughed. “I’m with you there.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Who’s your favorite fictional hero?”

I didn’t even have to think twice. “Luke Skywalker.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “So, the farmboy likes a farmboy. That’s not exactly a stretch.… You must be a closet Star Wars fan. I bet you’re the type who sits at home and stays up all night writing stories for fanzines.” When I avoided her gaze and didn’t respond, she exclaimed, “Spill, farmboy! You looked at my novel. Tell me about what you’ve written.”

“If you’re not a closet fan yourself, how did you know about fanzines?”

“I wrote an article about fanzines once, and don’t think that question will deflect me from the issue, Kent.”

“Clark,” I mumbled. She gave me an expectant look, and I told her reluctantly, “I occasionally read Star Wars fanzines, and I wrote one story for one. Happy?”

“No. You didn’t tell me what it was about.”

I shrugged. “It was about Luke Skywalker.”

She waved a hand in the air. “And?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “It was about him being afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” she pressed.

I wanted to lie to her, but I couldn’t let myself. So I told the truth. “It was about him being afraid of his anger and what he could do with the Dark Side. He feared he would end up hurting his family and friends, so he chose to reject the Force and never use it again.”

Lois frowned. “Sounds kind of depressing.”

Shrugging, I replied, “Not all fan stories have happy endings.”

“Are you afraid you aren’t going to have a happy ending?”

I looked at her sharply, but she was reading something on her computer and had meant the question more sarcastically than anything.

“A man like you is bound to have a happy ending,” she remarked, hitting a button on her keyboard.

“What do you mean?” I queried with a frown.

She glanced at me. “Well, you’re…relatively good-looking…and nice enough to be around.… I’ve seen women in the newsroom falling all over you.”

I grimaced. I had been hit on more than once by someone other than Cat, that was for sure. For some reason not entirely known to me, I replied, “I’m too busy for a happy ending.”

“No one’s ever too busy for a happy ending,” she returned. She got to her feet. “I have to go meet with someone. I’ll talk to you later.”

I gave her a small wave and watched her leave. I suspected Lois Lane might be too busy for a happy ending.… Yet being busy probably was her happy ending.

But it wasn’t mine.

***

At the end of the day, I steeled myself in preparation for what was forthcoming that night. I knew I needed to talk to a member of the press, and I preferred that it be Lois Lane. Her hero worship of Superman made me feel a bit awkward, but she would end up being very unpleasant if she wasn’t the first reporter to have a one-on-one interview with him…me.

I left a note on her desk in disguised handwriting while she went in Perry White’s office to ask him something. It instructed her to meet at the Planet at 10 pm that night and was signed “The Red-Blue Blur.” Since the name “Superman” was new, I didn’t use it — I didn’t want to arouse any suspicions that I might be connected to the Planet. I had considered giving Lois the note earlier in the day, but the less prepared she was for the interview, the better it would be for me. I had talked with my parents about what I should reveal, but I was still feeling uncomfortable at the thought of giving the public so much of myself.

That night, I went to the Daily Planet at 10 pm sharp. Lois was already there, a list of questions on her desk along with a legal pad to take notes on. For all I knew, she hadn’t even left the building since she received her note.

“Superman,” she said in surprise when she saw me.

I raised an eyebrow to pretend I didn’t understand her appellation for me. Privately, I was just thankful she hadn’t realized that Superman was me — or Clark was Superman — well, that we were the same people.… Person.

“It’s what I — it’s what we’re calling you,” she informed me, sounding a bit flustered.

“I see,” I responded awkwardly. I didn’t want to give the impression that I was a monosyllabic goon, but I just didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you for giving me this interview,” she said as she picked up her list of questions to ask. “I wasn’t sure if it was a hoax or not — I’m glad it wasn’t.”

“They told me you were the best,” I replied warmly.

Blushing, she asked me, “Really? Who told you that?”

I began cursing myself for my choice of words but finally managed, “Does it matter?”

Her smile sent a flutter through my stomach. “I guess not.” Hesitating, she ventured, “Do you have a name?”

“‘Superman’ is fine.” In actuality, I didn’t like the egotism that seemed to be inherent in the name, but I didn’t think I would be able to escape it. I had to give some sort of explanation for the “S” on my costume, and “Superman” might as well be what people associated with it. I wasn’t going to call myself “Samuel,” that was for sure.

Lois tucked her hair behind her ear almost shyly. It was then that it hit me that she really had developed a crush on Superman. I was just trying to wrap my head around that revelation when she ventured, “So, when you showed up as the Black Knight, did you intend to continue doing what you’re doing now?”

I almost grimaced. I couldn’t tell her the truth — but I didn’t want to lie to her. Carefully, I told her, “I’m not the same person as the Black Knight.…” It wasn’t exactly a lie — I wasn’t the same person as I was then. I had become more willing to take risks — willing to put myself out there and try to save people. Still, even knowing it was a half-truth didn’t make me feel that much better.

She made a note on her pad. “I imagine you would like to meet the man. I wonder if you got your special abilities from the same source?” The thought made her frown. “Where did you get your special abilities?”

I felt a sense of relief. This was territory I had prepared a little more for. “I am from a different planet — a planet called Krypton.”

She looked down at my feet and then up to my face. “You look like a man.…”

Trying to keep myself from flushing, I told her, “My Kryptonian heritage gives me powers no other man or woman or Earth has.”

“Except for the Black Knight,” she pointed out.

I chose not to comment, instead awkwardly deflecting her attention away from my former alter ego. “I have never been able to find anything I can’t lift. I can see, hear, and smell things no human can.… I can burn things with my eyes and freeze things with my breath.… And no bullet can break my skin.” Unless it was made out of meteor rock — but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

Lois, who had been scribbling furiously, paused to look up. “And you can fly,” she pointed out.

I smiled. “Yes.”

She reviewed her notes. “And you have super speed.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I responded in amusement.

“Do you know your limits? You said there’s nothing you can’t lift — do you know how fast you can go? Or how far you can see?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know of a way to test those things.”

She acknowledged my comment, wrote something down, and then gazed at her list of questions. Then she looked up at me. “So, why are you here?”

“I just want to help,” I said awkwardly.

She gave me a wry grin. “I’d like a bit better of a quote than that. ‘Give me liberty or give me death!’ or ‘Remember the Alamo!’ You know — something a little more epic.”

I just kind of looked at her. Helping was what I meant to do — I hadn’t thought much beyond that.

“Like maybe if you said you were here to fight for truth and justice and the American way,” she suggested.

“Go ahead — use that. It sounds good.”

She laughed and wrote it down. Then she gave me a somewhat shy glance. “I wonder, Superman, if I could get your picture? Mostly, people have just gotten action photos. I think it would be good to have a full-frontal photo — ” she paused and turned bright red before correcting, “ — uh, a picture of you posing in front of the camera.” She turned away in embarrassment, and I was glad, as I was blushing myself. She got a camera out of her drawer and began messing with the settings.

My arms were already crossed, but I shifted them slightly and drew myself up to my full height. In creating this new persona, I knew he had to be utterly different from Clark Kent for it to work. By looking somewhat imposing, I would be better able to make Superman a separate identity.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” I responded.

She took a few pictures, and then I cocked my head. “I have to go,” I told her. “Someone’s in trouble.” I had heard a cry for help.

She smiled, lowering her camera. “I guess this is a job for Superman.”

I gave a slight nod and then sped away. The interview, I reflected, could have gone a lot worse.

***

Chapter 20: Just a Boy and His Dog

Over hills and meadows, we’d stray,

Just a boy and his dog.

— “Old Shep”

***

Lois’s exclusive with Superman was wildly popular from the suits down to the copy boys. Perry White was especially ecstatic and kept holding her up to everyone as an example of initiative. But no one was happier about it than Lois herself.

When she approached my desk with an air of expectancy, I was tempted to ignore her. There was this smugness in her bearing that almost made me regret giving her the interview in the first place. But I gritted my teeth and told her, “Congratulations on your story, Lois.”

She smirked. “It was good, wasn’t it?” Then her expression took on that of a moony-eyed schoolgirl. “You should have seen him, Clark. There was this innocent nobility about him.… Not just anybody could do what he is going to do for us.”

“And what’s that exactly?” I asked her, genuinely interested in her response.

“He’s going to be a guardian of justice.… Don’t you remember your article, Clark? You said such a man would be a ‘beacon of hope.’”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re quoting my article?”

She quickly looked down and muttered, “Well, it wasn’t completely bad.…”

Though I felt amused, I decided to give her a break. “What makes you so certain he’ll live up to this larger-than-life image of him?”

Lois brought her eyes up to meet mine. “Because he has to.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds. I would have argued more, but I was simply blown away by her absolute trust in the man — in me. She barely knew anything about Superman, but she — and most of Metropolis — was willing to place her trust in him. Lois, the hard-hitting reporter who kept all men at a distance, saw something grand in what Superman was doing.

I didn’t see it as grand. I just saw it as something I had to do. I had been running for so long from everything. It was time to face a few things head-on.

One of the things I would need to face was the need for interviews. Since I had shown my face and answered a few of Lois’s questions, I was going to have to talk to people more often as Superman. The best way to do that would probably be staying on the scene longer after doing a rescue. Then, I would be able to answer questions and even ask for the advice of authority figures. As more people became accustomed to what I could do, there would probably be a greater need for such outside advice — particularly in the event of a hostage situation. And with rescues, maybe I could simply talk about what had just happened rather than be expected to answer personal questions.

I heard something and turned my head. Jimmy was walking by with a glum look on his face.

“Jimmy — you okay?” I asked him.

He paused and looked at me. “Not really. The Chief’s upset I haven’t been getting pictures of Superman. But the guy’s so fast and never stays for long — how do you make it onto the scene in time?”

A yell from the Editor-in-Chief’s office had him scrambling. But there was just a certain something missing from his step — he was really getting eaten up by his inability to impress Perry White. Theirs was very much a father/son relationship — but I wasn’t sure if they both realized it.

As I was lost in such thoughts, Cat approached my desk. “Poor kid,” she commented.

“Yeah. He deserves a break.” I frowned as an idea hit me. I knew just the thing to help him out.

Cat took a few steps away from me and toward Lois. “So, Lois, did you get a chance to feel the muscles beneath that suit?” she asked with a knowing grin.

I wasn’t sure who was more flabbergasted, Lois or me. As it was, she was the only one who managed a reply: “What?”

Cat tilted her head. “Come on, Lois, you can’t tell me even you didn’t notice how built the man was.… Do you think the suit comes off?”

I turned my head away from them so they couldn’t see how red I was. I did not need to hear this.

Lois evidently got more of her voice back, as she was able to spit, “Whether it does or not is none of your business! The man has principles, and he is not going to let you use him as your next scratching post!”

“Aww, does Lois have a crush?” Cat sniggered. She turned toward me, aware I was listening. In my ear, she whispered, “Sorry, handsome, but it seems you have some competition.”

I just waved a dismissive hand over my shoulder at her, not able to form a response.

Lois, however, had no such problem. “Isn’t there a rat somewhere you should be chasing?”

“Now that you mention it, I do have a date with a councilman.… He’s handsome, charming, and a great kisser.… Not that you would know how to judge that, Lois.”

As I turned to look at Cat, she blew me a kiss and then strutted off.

“She has a lot of nerve,” Lois muttered. “She thinks that just because some people don’t have a ‘flavor of the week,’ their lives are meaningless.”

“Maybe she’s trying to cover up the emptiness of her own life,” I pointed out.

“You don’t have to sympathize with her. For whatever reason, men just fall at her feet. She doesn’t know what it’s like to sleep alone.”

I shrugged. “I think she just likes to get under your skin.”

“Well, I just wish she wasn’t so good at it,” Lois proclaimed, throwing a pen onto her desk.

I hid a smile.

***

After work, I called my parents and told them about my interview with Lois. I hadn’t called them the night of the interview because I was feeling bad about phoning them at all hours of the night. But at this more pleasant hour, they seemed happy to hear from me.

“Truth, justice, and the American way, huh? Sounds like this Lois is pretty smart,” Mom commented.

I laughed. “Well, those three things aren’t exactly my goal, but I guess they’ll fall in line with what I’m doing. Rooting out the truth about criminals, handing them over to the justice system, and protecting innocent American bystanders.…”

“I’m glad you’ve made so much progress, Clark. You know, I think Lois has been closely tied to all this. She’s really been a big influence on you.”

I looked down at my hands uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

Perhaps Mom sensed my unease, for she steered the topic away from Lois. “And just think — now you’ll have a canine companion to help you out. Jericho is ready for you to pick him up, and dinner is almost ready to be eaten.”

Dad laughed. “You’re not invited to dinner, son — you’re commanded to come.”

With a grin to myself, I conceded, “Fine. I’ve already made some of the dye and the dye remover for Jericho — so I guess I’m ready for him. And I haven’t eaten yet, so I suppose there’s nothing stopping me from that as well.”

“We’ll see you in a few minutes, then,” Mom said. I could hear the amusement in her voice. If I hadn’t wanted to eat with them, she wouldn’t have made me — but I did want to make her happy, so I wouldn’t refuse. Besides, there wasn’t anything that could beat Martha Kent’s home cooking.

***

As we ate dinner, Jericho sat at our feet and looked up pitifully. Occasionally, he made an entreating whine/growl noise.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “All right. Who’s been feeding him at the table?”

Mom and Dad exchanged glances. I stared at them before Dad finally broke down. “I’m sorry, son — he just looked so, well, pathetic.… I gave him a few scraps of bacon at breakfast one day, and it just went downhill from there.”

Jericho made the noise again, and I laughed. “You’ve created a monster.”

Using my x-ray vision, I saw Jericho pawing Dad’s leg. I also saw Dad pinching off some of his roll and slipping it to him.

Rolling my eyes, I asked Mom, “You couldn’t teach him not to beg at the table?”

She shrugged. “I was working on commands that would save people’s lives, not their food.”

Chuckling, I returned my attention to my plate.

We all finished eating around the same time, and I rose to my feet. “I wish I could stay longer, but I should really be putting in more of an appearance as Superman.”

My parents stood, and Mom gestured for me to follow her to the couch. Jericho and Dad were right behind us.

Mom picked up several pieces of paper off the coffee table and handed them to me. “Here. This is a list of the commands he knows along with descriptions of them. The command words I taught him were ones that wouldn’t all be completely obvious to a criminal. Hopefully, he won’t be minding criminals, but you can’t be too safe.”

I smiled. “Smart!”

“Thank you,” she returned, pleased. “I taught him both hand and spoken signals. I figured sometimes the visibility might be bad — and sometimes you might be in an environment where it’s hard for him to hear.”

“Sounds like you prepared for every eventuality,” I commented.

“Maybe not everything, but it’s not from lack of trying,” Dad grunted. “I must have needed ‘saving’ in thirty different situations at least.” Mom swatted his arm, and he smiled at her.

I looked at her. “Mom?”

She shrugged. “Well, we had to get him used to fire and water and heights.”

I frowned. “She didn’t put you in any real danger, did she, Dad?”

“If she did, I wouldn’t admit it,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s just say that dog of yours is quite the superdog.”

“Which reminds me,” Mom inserted. “You need to think up a new name for his other persona.”

“What about Superdog?” Dad suggested.

I tilted my head back and forth indecisively. “Eh, I’m not sure.…”

“Have you had any ideas?” asked Mom.

“Well, I was thinking of having Clark Kent write an article about Superman — and maybe he could name him. I was thinking ‘Krypto’ might be a good choice.” I knelt next to the dog and scratched underneath his chin. He panted contentedly. “Do you like ‘Krypto,’ boy?” At his happy bark, I laughed. “What do you two think?”

“I think ‘Krypto’ is fine,” Mom told me. She embraced me tightly. On impulse, I placed a kiss on her hair. My policy against touch really had been unnecessary. It had made things so much harder for me — but it had at least made me realize that one of the finer things of life was physical expressions of love from family. A simple hug meant the world.

In a quiet voice, as if sensing my contemplative mood, Mom told me, her arms still around me, “Read over those pages when you get home and take him out with you. I promise you — he’s going to enjoy it.”

***

If there was one thing Jericho enjoyed, it was flying. Well — being held in my arms while I was flying. Whenever we took to the air, he looked over my arm without fear, his eyes eagerly taking in the sights and his nose the smells. His ears were pulled back slightly due to the wind, but I could tell he was straining to hear things as well.

We landed on my balcony, and I set him down. He began running around in a weird joyful romp, and I just shook my head. I quickly scanned the pages of commands Mom had given me and smiled. Some of the words she had chosen for her commands had been rather creative.

I retrieved the jar of spot-remover and a moistened towel and got on my knees. “Here, boy,” I called.

The dog came to me with his curled tail wagging.

“Good boy,” I told him, petting him briefly. I took the lid off the spot-remover and allowed him to smell it. Then I put some of the goop on my hands with a wince and used my other arm to hold him still. I began rubbing the formula into his black spots, and he struggled to get free. But though he was strong, I was stronger, and I held him in place and admonished, “Bad dog.” With a whimper, he stopped struggling, and he let me finish rubbing the dye-remover into his ears. I brought up the towel and scrubbed at his ears, getting out the last remnants of dye. Then I grabbed his backside and began working on his tail. He tried again to get free, but I said his name sternly, and he let me finish what I was doing. When I was finally done, I let him go, and he began running around the apartment like his tail was on fire.

Rolling my eyes, I threw the towel in a dirty clothes hamper and put away the spot-remover. After I washed my hands, I found his new yellow collar. “Krypto, pause.”

The dog, who had been running around in canine ecstasy, halted in his tracks. The phrase “stop on a dime” came to mind.

I walked over to him and crouched. I touched the tag on his black collar briefly with a smile before removing the entire collar and replacing it with the new yellow one. I surveyed him briefly. He looked different enough that this just might work. “You ready to go saving?” I asked him.

I took his wagging tail to mean “yes.”

***

We flew over the streets of Metropolis finding people in need. Jericho — Krypto — was surprisingly helpful. Mom had done well with him. I was already thinking about how my life would have to change to include the dog in rescues. I decided I would take the black dye off the dog in the morning after walking him so I could quickly pick him up to help with a rescue if I needed him. I would put it back on him at home if I intended to walk him or I expected guests. I would just need to make sure my door was always locked — if an unexpected guest came, then I could put the dye on Jericho quickly enough that no one would be the wiser.

After using Jericho in some different situations, I decided I would use him principally in fires, robberies, and occasional hostage situations. Throughout the night, we did a lot of rescuing. A few times, I took him home, changed, and then went and talked to some witnesses for quotes. I planned to have a good solid article on Superman — I didn’t want Perry White thinking I couldn’t pull my weight.

I only got a few hours of sleep that night, but I was happy with how things were going, so it didn’t bother me. When rush hour traffic began, there was a big wreck but no one hurt, and I realized it was the perfect opportunity to set the plan I had formulated earlier in motion. I was going to call Jimmy, who didn’t live that far away.

I phoned him with a disguised voice and gave him an anonymous tip about the accident. If he hurried, I told him, he would be able to get a picture of Superman and his canine partner. Though his voice was heavy with sleep, he seemed eager enough.

In truth, Superman didn’t need Krypto’s help at the scene. But it was a good way to get the dog some publicity — and some pictures for Jimmy Olsen.

I dealt with the damaged cars and helped the grateful policemen redirect traffic. Krypto sat where instructed and watched the moving cars with interest. I could soon hear the constant clicking of a camera, and a visual confirmed my suspicion: Jimmy Olsen, though sleep rumpled, was at the scene and taking pictures.

When things were getting back to normal, he nervously asked if I would pose with my dog. I agreed, and we took a few different pictures of me and Krypto. Then, I told him I needed to leave, and Krypto and I disappeared in a blur.

***

Chapter 21: How Can You Lose What You Never Had?

‘How can you lose what you never had?’

I tell myself when I’m feeling sad.

— “How Can You Lose What You Never Had?”

***

In the morning, I went to the Planet earlier than usual, my notes and quotes from my rescues nestled in my briefcase. Jimmy soon found me. He was all excitement.

“C.K.! You will never believe this. Superman has a superdog!”

I smiled at him. “I know — I got a tip from a source, and I talked to some witnesses about some of the rescues they’ve done in the past twelve hours or so. I was never able to make it on the scene in time to see them, though.”

“Well, then I have a perfect picture to go with your story!” he exclaimed, taking me to his desk. Several different pictures were scattered all over it. “The Chief loves them. Maybe one of these can go with your piece.”

“I bet it’ll be perfect, Jimmy,” I told him with a grin. After hesitating, I gave him a congenial pat on the shoulder. His smile just grew wider, and I found myself glad I had made the physical contact. It was hard to become accustomed to touching people again, but I was hoping it would get easier.

I went back to my desk and wrote up the piece. By the time Lois arrived, I had already submitted the story — and the name “Krypto” for the dog.

Before long, the Chief Editor approached my desk with the story in hand. “Great stuff, Clark!”

“What’s great?” Lois ventured with a frown.

“There’s a new superhero in town,” Perry White told her. “Only this one’s a dog.”

“What?” she gaped. She was obviously surprised that she hadn’t heard anything about it.

He shook my story at her. “You’ll be able to read about it in the Planet. Clark, here, went out and covered some Superman rescues, and Jimmy got us some great pictures for the front page.”

As the Editor-in-Chief left, Lois turned to me in anger, and I steeled myself. She was obviously unhappy.

“You covered Superman?” she demanded.

I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. “You don’t own him.”

“He’s my story — you know, story mine?”

I blinked at her in disbelief. “You can’t really think you’re the only reporter allowed to cover him?”

“But I had the first one-on-one interview with him!”

“The first — but not the only,” I pointed out, shaking my head. “He’s going to talk to people other than you.”

She muttered something unintelligible, banging at her keyboard like a five year-old. The rest of that day, she was a pain to be around.

***

Lois became more pleasant the next day. She was able to write a story about a save made by Superman and Krypto, and it improved her demeanor greatly. One thing of interest she noted in the article was that humane societies were having a run on white — or mostly white — dogs. I wasn’t sure whether to be glad about or wary of that news — it was great that people were adopting dogs, but pet ownership was not something that should just be rushed into…particularly in a big city.

At some point that day, I started staring at Lois without quite knowing why. She had a smile tugging at the corners of her eyes and lips as she typed something on her computer screen. A hand reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and then she crossed her legs, the action inching her skirt up a little higher and revealing a little more of her long legs. I started to trace the curves of those legs with my eyes but then caught myself and flushed. As I brought my gaze up, Lois glanced at me.

“Do you want to come to my place for dinner and a movie?” I blurted.

I immediately knew my impromptu request was a bad idea — especially since I had just been admiring the shapeliness of her anatomy — but I couldn’t retract it without arousing suspicion. And unfortunately for me, Lois was actually considering my question.

“What movie?” she asked at last.

“Lethal Weapon 2?” I suggested. A Mel Gibson movie seemed to be a safe enough choice. An action movie wasn’t too dangerous, was it? Even if she had a habit of nearly falling asleep during movies …

She gave me a small smile. “I guess that would be good. I’m getting tired of operas and ballets. Sometimes the arts just can’t beat an action flick.… I guess Lex doesn’t really understand that.”

I averted my eyes from her, uneasy about her reference to Lex Luthor. It seemed she was spending more and more time with the suave billionaire. I was glad she was involved in something other than work and Tae Kwon Do lessons — but I wished Lex Luthor hadn’t been the one she was getting so close to. Why the man repulsed me so much, I didn’t know. He was just an acquaintance…not an enemy.

So, instead of saying something derogatory about Luthor — which my heart was begging for me to do — I just smiled gently and told her, “Well, this farmboy understands.”

***

I was a bit nervous about our get-together — it wasn’t a date (she was involved with Luthor, after all, and I wouldn’t have called it a “date” even if she hadn’t been) — and not just because Lois was coming over. It would be the first time she had been to my apartment when Jericho was there.… And it would be a test of his identity.

She would probably be annoyed I had gotten a dog and not told her. She would be even more annoyed — and justifiably so — if she realized he was connected with the Sallya Technologies story and I simply hadn’t told her about him.

As I cooked our meal — spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread, green beans, salad, and chocolate pie — I prepared what I would say to her. I would tell her Jericho had belonged to my parents and I had fallen in love with him — but I hadn’t been able to take him home until I found my apartment. Then, I had to wait for him to be brought by a friend of my parents who was coming to Metropolis to visit some family.… At least, that was the story I was going to give her.

She knocked on my door a few minutes earlier than I had expected, and I hunted for a pot holder in a panic. After finding one and setting it on the counter, I jogged to the door, a barking Jericho at my heels. “Quiet,” I told him sternly, and he shut up.

I opened the door to Lois, prepared with a smile. But she was wearing a pair of jeans and a lacey white blouse, and I faltered. Unlike her business suits for the Planet, the outfit she was wearing did nothing to hide her curves.… But it also didn’t scream “pull me into a passionate embrace right now,” so I shut my jaw and gestured her forward.

Jericho was prepared to greet her, and he jumped up gently onto her legs, standing there and craning his neck upward, his tail wagging. She smiled down at him and scratched his head. “I wasn’t aware you had a dog, Clark.” There was almost a questioning tone in her voice.

I readied myself to give her my spiel, but she kept speaking.

“Of course, I’m not surprised you’ve joined in the white dog craze that has swept half this city,” she commented, scratching one of Jericho’s black ears. “What’s his name?”

“Ah, Jericho,” I told her, feeling a little taken aback. Evidently, I didn’t even need to explain myself. So why did I feel guilty?

She walked further inside, the dog eagerly following her. I knelt on the ground and called him over. “Jericho,” I said firmly, “this is Lois.” I pointed toward her, and he turned to look at her. “Lois,” I repeated softly.

Lois wasn’t paying any attention to me — she was investigating the aromas coming from the kitchen. “Smells great, farmboy.”

Giving Jericho a pat, I stood. “Thanks. It’ll be just a few minutes.”

The dog scurried over to Lois and sat at her feet, looking up at her with pleading eyes. She scratched his ears briefly.

“Looks like he really likes you,” I told her as I started tending to the food.

“I’m not surprised — I am pretty likeable,” she jested.

I laughed. “If that’s what you would call it.”

She hit my shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I brought a hand up to rub where she had hit me. Though it hadn’t hurt, there was a strange tingling sensation there. But a part of me really enjoyed such casual contact with Lois — I was glad she had so easily made the transition into occasionally touching me.

In reply to Lois, I said in a snarky voice, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” I threw a grin at her over my shoulder to ameliorate my comment and noted her glare. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring the food out.”

She obliged, pulling out a chair and sitting in it. Watching me move around in the kitchen, she remarked, “You didn’t have to cook, you know.… You could have just bought something and slapped it on a plate.”

“It’s no big deal. Cooking’s easy.”

Lois snorted. “It is if you aren’t the kind of person who burns water. I can handle popcorn, hot dogs, macaroni and cheese…and not much else.”

I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Surely, it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, but it is,” she muttered. “Whatever else I make comes out charred at best…unrecognizable at worst.”

“Well, this isn’t anything special, but I do like to cook from time to time,” I told her as I set food on the table. Suddenly, I realized pasta was frequently associated with romance, and I nearly panicked. My thoughts turned to Luthor — the man she was dating — and I told her, “I’m sure this isn’t anything compared to Luthor’s private cooks.” I had meant it to sound casual, but a slight note of bitterness made its way into my tone.

Fortunately, Lois appeared not to have picked it up. “Their food can be too rich sometimes. It can be nice to just have something a little more down to earth.… Of course, that doesn’t apply to desserts.” She grinned. “Desserts have to be heavenly.”

Laughing to cover my unease, I said, “Well, I hope my dessert lives up to your high standards.”

“It’d better,” she agreed, picking up a fork and pointing it at me, “or else I won’t let you cook for me again.”

“I’ll remember that,” I acknowledged wryly as I sat. “Now, let’s eat.”

***

My dessert did live up to her standards, it turned out. In fact, we both managed to finish off half the chocolate pie before we realized how much we’d eaten. Then, amid our laughter and a few comments from Lois about how her stomach would soon be blowing up like a balloon, we sat on the couch and popped in Lethal Weapon 2. Jericho promptly got up on the sofa on the other side of Lois and sat his chin on her legs. She smiled and gently scratched his ears.

When Lois’s head found my shoulder less than halfway through the movie, my heart pounded, though it did so in a different way than it had during the first Lethal Weapon movie. The great fear I had felt last time had dwindled down to a vague uncertainness. I was immensely conscious of her closeness as a woman, and that put a different sort of fear in my heart. She was warm and soft, and I wanted so desperately to put my arm around her. But I knew it was best that I didn’t, so I just allowed myself to smile down at her as she watched the movie. It felt so right for her head to be there. It was strange how now I didn’t want her to ever move, yet not long before I had wanted to bolt from the room at the prospect of touching another person.

Lois Lane did something to me. She somehow managed to fill me with confidence and uncertainty and aggressiveness and passiveness all at once. She was an enigma. She made me see my life through a kaleidoscope of colors rather than the glowing green hue that had dominated my perception for so long. She burned brightly like fire — struck passionately like lightning — touched everything like rain. She had become my best friend at a time in my life where I hadn’t truly believed I could have a real friend.

But at last she shifted and looked up at me — and then she realized what she was doing and suddenly pulled away. “Oh, Clark, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about — ”

“It’s fine,” I told her quickly, already feeling the loss of her closeness. “I can tolerate touch now, remember? I’m…getting therapy.” My “therapy” might have been rescuing people from the jaws of death, but it was a form of therapy nonetheless.

Lois returned to watching the movie, but I felt as if something crucial was missing until she moved her head back and linked her arms around my right arm. As I stared down at her brown hair, I reflected on how Lois seemed to be a very tactile person. Even before I had decided to become Superman, Lois had tried to touch me a lot. Sometimes, she had caught herself and apologized; other times, she didn’t even notice. And sometimes, she had touched me, removed her hand, and then given me an annoyed look as if my phobia was a terrible inconvenience for her. I had never known quite how to respond, as her touch had conjured up so many different emotions in me — part of me had wanted to recoil, but the other part had wanted to simply enjoy the brief connection to her. Now, however, in this moment, I would allow myself the pleasure of her touch with no regrets.… If only for one night.

To allow myself that pleasure more than once would be dangerous. She was dating Lex Luthor — and I would need to support her if they became more serious. I couldn’t be having daydreams about something I could never let happen.

***

Chapter 22: I’ve Been Hurt Before … Never Ever Quite Like This Time

I can’t take it anymore — I’ve been hurt before.

Never ever quite like this time.

— “Never Again”

***

The next day, I went home from work in a good mood. Lois had been pleasant, the Chief had complimented Jimmy, Cat hadn’t gotten out her claws, and Superman hadn’t been needed to perform any dire rescues. I dyed Jericho and took him on a fifteen minute walk. Then I sat down to read Phineas Finn. I wasn’t a great fan of Trollope, but something about his books appealed to me — when they were experienced in moderation — and I liked to read a variety of works. I was speed reading through much of it — pausing occasionally to reflect on a passage — only to put the novel aside when I heard an insistent knocking.

Jericho barked twice and then growled as he ran to the door.

“Retreat,” I told him, evoking what was basically the “back up” command Mom had taught him. Obediently, he backed up, but he still continued to growl.

I opened the door to find seven men. They were all obviously armed except for the brown-haired man in front who shoved a piece of paper at me. “I have a warrant issued by federal court to search your apartment, Clark Kent,” he said curtly, pushing me past me and gesturing his people inside.

Five of the men shoved past me and spread out to survey my apartment. I reflected to myself that it was fortunate I had installed that secret compartment for my suits, but I was furious they were just bursting in here like this. What was going on?

I glanced at the red-haired man who stood behind the warrant holder. His gun was trained on me, and his finger was hovering over the trigger. I could tell he was just itching for a reason to use it.

I returned my eyes to the man in charge, trying to rein in my anger. “Who are you, and what do you want?” I demanded. “And why do you have those guns?”

“We’re with the government,” the brown-haired man told me. “Now, it’s time for us to ask the questions. What’s the connection between you, the alien Superman, and the Smallville meteor shower of 1966?…I know you were involved in the Sallya Technologies story. Was the alien’s dog part of that project, or is his dog an alien, too?”

Jericho snarled, his teeth gleaming white with saliva, and he poised to leap at the man. Though it was tempting to let him teach this man a lesson, I didn’t want Jericho’s secret identity to be obvious, and I said sharply, “Nyet!”

The dog put his ears back and sat, whimpering. Still, he kept his eyes focused on the man he saw as a threat to me.

“Why does your dog know Russian?” the government man asked suspiciously.

Exasperated, I told him, “He doesn’t know Russian. My mom just thought it would be cute to teach him ‘nyet’ instead of ‘no.’ Let me see that warrant.”

“We’re giving the orders here, Kent,” the man said in a low voice, sounding unhinged.

Irritated, I took a step toward him. “Look, I don’t know what you’re — ”

A bullet cracked through the air. Pain stabbed through my shoulder. Jericho prepared to leap.

Falling to my knees, I cried out, “Nyet!”

Jericho stilled, but his growl was almost as biting as his teeth would have been.

The leader cursed under his breath and grabbed the red-haired man by the collar. “You idiot! We only have a limited supply of those bullets. They’re meant for the alien — and as you can see, he isn’t here.”

The excruciating pain threatened to overwhelm me, but I tried nonetheless to hide the fact that I was struggling to breathe, lest he realize the alien he had mentioned was there. Though I had been exposed to the meteor rock many times, I had never actually had a piece of it inside me. As I placed one hand on the ground and the other on my shoulder, I looked up at the brown-haired man.

“Pull out,” he told his subordinates with a sharp gesture. “He’s still alive — the bullet just went into his shoulder. But someone might have heard that shot, and we don’t want anyone tying this to us.” He turned his head to stare at the red-haired man. “We’ll discuss your trigger happiness later.”

As the last of the men filed outside, their leader looked down at me. “We’ll see you before too long, Kent.”

And then he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

I let out a low moan, and Jericho came over to me and put his nose in my face. I gave him a light pat on the snout and then tried to dig out the bullet in my shoulder with my fingers. But it was just no use. It hurt too much, and I couldn’t get a good grip. It had gone too far in.

As the man had mentioned, it was possible someone had heard the gunshot, but this was Metropolis, and I didn’t know if my neighbors would try to help me or try to protect their own skins.… And for that matter, I didn’t want anyone calling the police. There was too much to explain — and I didn’t have many answers.

In desperation, I pointed to my cordless phone and told Jericho, “Retrieve.” Mom had chosen that word instead of “fetch.”

He looked where I was pointing and then back at me, so I repeated myself. He trotted to the table and stood on his hind legs to put his teeth around the phone. I allowed myself to sink onto my back, wincing at the movement.

As the dog brought me the phone, my mind flashed to Lois. Could I ask her to come get the bullet out? I knew I couldn’t get the police involved — they would want to take the bullet in for evidence, not even realizing what exactly they had.

But would Lois be any better? If she saw a glowing green bullet, she would want it tested, too. And if I told her we couldn’t, then she would demand to know why. Not to mention she would probably try to force me to go to the hospital.

But Perry White…he knew how to keep a secret. And if one of his reporters told him not to ask for more information, he generally abided by that. Of course, he was shrewd enough he might be able to glean more about my situation than I wanted him to, but I didn’t have time to hesitate any longer. The bullet had to come out, or I would die.…

A great part of me still wanted to call Lois, but I didn’t want her to see me like this. That thought decided me.

I dialed the Chief Editor’s office number, knowing if he had already gone home he probably wouldn’t make it to my side in time. Fortunately, he picked up.

“Perry White.”

“Chief?” I gasped out. “This is Clark.… I need you…to…come to my apartment.”

“Son, are you all right?”

“Now, please,” I managed with a groan, dropping the phone to the floor without ending the call. I didn’t want to breathe. It hurt to move my chest.

I tried to put my mind on something other than the pain. I thought about how my initial instinct was to call Lois. Calling Perry White had been the smart thing to do — but why had the desire to call Lois been so strong?

It hadn’t taken her long to become important to me. But it wasn’t just that she was important to me — it was also that she had started to make my life feel worth living.

I looked forward to seeing her every day. I wanted to laugh with her, joke with her, bicker with her. I wanted to protect her from all the evil of the world.… But what was more, I wanted her to protect me, too.

The thought of me needing protection from anything was strange in itself. But without even knowing it, Lois had been helping me heal those wounds from Africa. She was the one who was slowly drawing me back into society — maybe it was only natural that I turned to her. I felt safe with her…and I couldn’t say that about many other people.

But, I cautioned myself firmly, I had to fight against the urge to use her as my pillar of strength. I couldn’t allow myself to hide behind her. If I did, I would surely hurt her.

I groaned as the pain grew so great that I lost the ability to think coherently. I curled up in a ball, wishing I didn’t need oxygen. The fingers of my left hand reached into my shirt and grasped at my locket. I tried to picture the face of my grandmother, but all I could conjure up was haze.…

Jericho licked my hand. My fingers curled. The pain in my chest was spreading. Mom. Dad. Should’ve called them.

My vision tunneled, and there was darkness. Not light.

***

“Clark? Clark?” a voice called to me in the darkness.

“Mmm?” My mouth wasn’t working right.

“Clark, what’s wrong?”

“Mmmbull’t,” I managed. “G’out. Gidout.”

“Great Shades of Elvis, son! You should’ve called 911 — not an old codger like me. Listen, son, I’ll stop the blood from flowing, but I’m going to call an ambulance first.”

“No. Please. Poison. It’s pois’nous.… Gotta gidout.”

“Son — ”

“Poison,” I told him again weakly.

There were more noises. Not voices. Sound.

Pain flared in my shoulder. Then there was relief.

I allowed myself to breathe for a few seconds, and then I opened my eyes. Perry White was kneeling over me with the green bullet in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. Jericho was beside him looking concerned.

“There’s a white box on the counter,” I rasped. “Put the bullet in it.” I let out a low moan but kept my eyes trained on him.

He stood and did as I said, placing the bullet in the box and then closing it. He grabbed a washrag and returned to me. I tried to sit up, but he told me, “Just stay there for a minute, son.” He pressed the washcloth against my wound to prevent me from bleeding out. I was thankful he was hiding the wound from his sight. My blood would probably stop flowing soon (if it hadn’t already) since I was no longer being exposed to the meteor rock. The rag would prevent him from seeing my healed or healing skin.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he noted as he reached for the phone I had dropped.

“No!” I said sharply. “No.”

He sighed. “Well, at least let’s move you from the floor to the couch.”

I draped my arm across his shoulders with his help, and I used my other arm to hold the washcloth against my shoulder. It was a slow process, but we finally succeeded in transferring me from the floor to the couch.

“What in the Sam Hill do you eat, Clark?” he wheezed. “You’re a whole lot heavier than you look.”

I gave him a weak smile and pressed the washcloth back up against my shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You need to go to the hospital, Clark,” he said in a quiet tone. I could tell he was hoping I would be more rational. But he didn’t know what was at stake.

“Please just trust me,” I pleaded softly. I was weak, but I would live. He had reached me in time.

He gave me a hard look. “You mixed up in something, son?”

I averted my eyes. I didn’t want to lie to him — he had just saved my life. I answered vaguely, “You could say that, Chief…Perry.” That was the first time I had called him by his first name. I looked up at him to see those discerning eyes staring at me. I had to give him something. “This…crazed lunatic came with some men and started searching my apartment. He had what he said was a federal warrant, but I don’t know if it was real or not. One of his men got a little trigger happy and shot me before I managed to get a look at it.”

Perry frowned. “We should investigate this.…”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t have any leads. I just know the man in charge said he’d be back.”

“Can you give a description of what he looked like?”

I resisted the urge to shrug in case my wound hadn’t healed yet. “All I can tell you is that he had brown hair.” In truth, I could probably draw a picture of the man, but I didn’t need Perry digging into this any further.

The Chief Editor crossed his arms. “You may not want to get the police involved in this, but maybe we should get you a bodyguard — or maybe you should stay somewhere else temporarily. What if they come back?”

Though I felt bad about it, I faked a wince to distract him.

He looked worried. “Clark, if you’re not going to go the hospital, you should at least try to get some rest. Now, do you think you can make it to the bed with my help?”

“I think the bleeding has stopped,” I told him, though I still didn’t remove the washcloth. “I should be able to make it on my own.… Perry — thank you for helping me. You saved my life.”

“You can always count on this ol’ newspaper hound,” he said gruffly. “After we get you to bed, I’m going to call Alice. She won’t mind me sleeping over here for one night to take care of you.”

“No, Chief, I’m fine,” I insisted uncomfortably. “After all, I have Jericho.” I gestured to the dog. I wasn’t sure if I had ever told Perry about him.

He gave Jericho a “uh huh” kind of look and then told me, “Nevertheless, son, I’d like to stay here, if only for my peace of mind. I’ll sleep on the couch. Just give me some blankets and a pillow, and I’ll be good.”

I shook my head. “I think I’d prefer to stay here on the couch. Why don’t you take the bed?” I didn’t want to be the reason the Chief Editor had a stiff neck in the morning.

“No, I insist. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sleep on the couch recently,” he jested. “Alice and I haven’t exactly, uh, been gettin’ along lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Chief.…”

“Aww, well, you know how it is. Now, let’s get you into bed.”

***

When I woke up in the morning, sun was streaming down on my bare chest from between the blinds. I had opened the blinds after Perry had gone to sleep on the couch, knowing the sun would help revive me. Still, it would take a lot more sun exposure before I would be feeling “super.”

The smell of bacon and eggs caused me to sit up. Evidently, Perry was busy in the kitchen. The delicious scents wafting toward me made me want to investigate their source further. But I knew there was a chance Perry would want to have a serious discussion if I did. I had the feeling he had held off from such a talk the night before only to enable me to regain a little of my lucidity.

“Now or never,” I mumbled to myself. I grabbed a shirt and was about to pull it over my head when I thought of something. My shoulder was completely healed, and I didn’t want any awkward questions about it. Considering the matter a little more, I taped a few cottonballs to my shoulder. They made a small lump that looked like a bandage. If I was lucky, it would be enough to fool the Planet’s Editor-in-Chief. If he insisted on seeing the wound, I could use the excuse that I didn’t like touch. Hopefully, this would work.

After putting on my shirt, I padded into the kitchen on bare feet. Perry was placing the last of the bacon onto the second of two food-covered plates. It seemed he believed in a hearty breakfast. Jericho was at his feet, staring hopefully upward. I wondered if Perry had slipped him a few bites of bacon.

“You didn’t have to cook,” I told him quietly.

He turned around with a smile. “Wanted to. There’s nothing like the smell of eggs and bacon in the morning.”

I laughed. “That’s true.”

Perry handed me my plate, and we went and sat at the table. Jericho whimpered pitifully as he sat at our feet.

“I wasn’t aware you had a dog,” Perry commented.

I smiled down at Jericho. “Yeah — I haven’t had him for long. But he makes a good companion.” I turned my attention downward to my plate. “Do you cook breakfast for Alice like this?” I asked as I brought up a forkful of egg to my mouth.

His face sobered. “No. We don’t get up at the same time — the Chief Editor for a major newspaper has to rise with the roosters. Shoot, I can’t remember the last time I made her breakfast.…”

“It must be hard not seeing her much,” I remarked quietly.

Perry nodded, but we didn’t say anything else until we were done eating.

“Why don’t we take a look at that shoulder of yours?” he suggested, inclining his head toward the place I had been shot.

“It’s doing fine thanks to you,” I said in an attempt at smoothness. “You should probably go home and get ready for work.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, and I held my breath, readying my excuse for why he shouldn’t look at my shoulder.

But then he dipped his chin and admitted in a reluctant tone, “Guess you’re right, Clark. But I’d better not see you at the Planet.”

“Chief, I can come in — ”

He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t come to the Planet today, Clark. That’s an order.”

I sighed. “All right.” At least it would give me time to soak up some sun.

Jericho let out another pathetic whimper, and in exasperation I gave him a small bit of egg from my plate. He ate it greedily.

***

Jericho and I did a lot of sunbathing that day. I had to go out a few times to take him on walks, but I could feel my strength returning, and it heartened me. As dinnertime approached, I called my parents and told them what happened — which wasn’t a pleasant conversation, especially considering that I didn’t really have any answers to my questions, let alone theirs — and then I hung up. Jericho was sitting by his food bowl, looking up at me with his pleading dark brown eyes.

“You hungry, boy?”

He wagged his tail and nudged the bowl with his nose.

Chuckling, I poured him some food. “There. You happy?”

The only noise I got in return was the crunching of food. “Guess so,” I mumbled. “Now, I just need to find something to eat myself.”

I was walking to the refrigerator when a knock caused me to pause. I jogged to the door and opened it. “Perry!” I said, surprised. I hadn’t expected to see him again.

“Lois was going to come bring you dinner, but I told her I’d do it. I figured you’d need a warning ahead of time that she wants to know why you missed work today. I told her you weren’t feeling well, but you know Lois. She’ll want some specifics.”

“Thanks,” I told him warmly. “Come on in.” It seemed as if everyone wanted to feed me whenever I got sick. I thought that had ended when I left my parents’ house, but evidently, I was wrong.

He put the bag of food on the table. “I can’t stay long — I still have a few things at the Planet that I need to do — but I did want to talk to you for a minute.” He took a seat, and I sat in a chair across from him. Here, then, was the conversation I had dreaded.

“Now, I couldn’t help but notice that the bullet which was so…well, poisonous to you seemed to have no effect on me,” he began casually.

One of my hands tightened into a fist. I was terrified about where this was going. Why had I thought it was a good idea to ask the newshound to help me out? If anyone had a nose for news, he did.

“Of course, there’s probably a reason for that. You weren’t really yourself — being shot does that to a man — and a man can say funny things sometimes. Why, I remember one time I stepped on a nail and started spewing all sorts of crazy things to Alice.…” He laughed at the memory and slapped his knee. “I believe the phrase ‘son of a moose muffin muncher’ came out. She liked to never let me live that one down.”

His Southernism — ”liked to” — was almost enough to make me smile, but I quickly remembered how I was in a situation that was teetering on the edge of disaster. I needed to know what he knew and what he was going to do. So I said nothing.

“Now, while I may not know things officially,” he noted, returning back to his former subject, “that doesn’t mean I don’t know certain things unofficially. Sometimes, a newspaper man like me just sees that certain pieces fit together and form a bigger picture.”

If he hadn’t known my secret when he asked me to write that plea to the Black Knight, he had to know now. To say I was nervous would be to say a porcupine was unpleasant to touch. It was a good thing that I didn’t have my powers at that moment — if I had, the edge of the seat I was gripping would have splintered into pieces.

“But knowing that bigger picture and doing something about it are two different things,” he continued. “The most obvious action isn’t always the smartest one.… And a man of my position doesn’t stay a man of my position if he doesn’t stop to think before he acts.”

I could tell he wanted some sort of acknowledgment, but I still wasn’t sure what action he was going to take, so I remained quiet and stared down at the table grimly.

“But even if I only know something unofficially, that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t come to me again in a time of need — even if it leads to me knowing something officially. You, uh, understand, son?”

“I…think so?” I managed. It seemed to me as if he were telling me — in a roundabout way — that my secret was safe…and that I could come to him if I ever needed anything. An intense sense of relief washed over me. “Th-thank you, sir.”

He slapped me on the shoulder. “It’s ‘Perry,’ son. Now, enjoy your dinner.” He turned to leave and was almost at the door when I called to him.

“Perry?”

The Chief Editor looked at me. “Yes?”

“Could you…take that box and bullet and keep them safe for me?” I asked. Hesitantly, I added, “And use it if you ever need to.”

He frowned. “Clark — ”

“Please.”

He stared at me for a few seconds before nodding. “All right.” He grabbed the box and went out the door with it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clark,” he told me before shutting the door.

I was glad the bullet wasn’t in my apartment anymore.… And I was glad there was one person in Metropolis whom I could trust to use the meteor rock to take Superman down should the need ever arise. But hopefully that would never happen.

***

Chapter 23: Carnival Time

Popcorn, peanuts, and cotton candy …

Pink lemonade that’s dan-dan-dandy …

Be a big shot for a dollar.

It’s carnival time.

— “It’s Carnival Time”

***

I went to work the next morning. My intense sun exposure the day before had done wonders for me. I wasn’t at full Superman capacity, but I was strong enough to make a rescue if needed.

I tried to track down a few leads on the men who had come to my apartment, but I didn’t have any luck with it, not really knowing where to start, so I began working on a minor piece. Before long, Lois came over to my desk.

“Kent! You feeling better?”

“Clark,” I reminded her absently. “Yes, I am.”

“Have a cold?” she inquired.

I looked up, fighting to hide a grin. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

“No,” she backpedaled. “I just wanted to make sure you were at peak capacity in case Perry puts us on a story together.”

“Uh huh. Well, I’m fine now.”

“Great,” she muttered, returning to her desk.

I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. I had done a pretty good job of deflection. I had known she would have questions and had figured out what route to take ahead of time, so that had certainly helped.

When lunchtime rolled around, a young woman with brown hair approached Lois’s desk. I stood to go pick something up from the printer when Lois waved me over.

“Clark, this is my sister Lucy. Lucy, this is my…occasional partner, Clark Kent.”

I smiled and shook Lucy’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lucy didn’t act the way I had suspected she would based on the few times Lois talked about her — but then again, considering most of Lois’s mentions of her involved Lucy “borrowing” Lois’s clothes, that probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“No, it’s a pleasure for me to meet anyone who can put up with my sister,” the young woman returned.

“Lucy!” Lois exclaimed.

“In case you haven’t noticed, she tends to scare away men,” Lucy continued, ignoring her sister. “It’s amazing you’ve stuck around for this long.”

I smiled. “Well, she makes a great investigative reporter, and I’m proud to have her as my partner…occasionally.”

As Lucy laughed, I gave her a nod of farewell. “Again, it was nice meeting you.” I returned to my trip to the printer, amused.

I could hear Lucy and Lois talking.

“Lois, why didn’t you tell me Clark was hot?” Lucy exclaimed, causing my ears to redden. “If I’d known you had such an attractive partner, I would have come to lunch with you a long time ago.”

“Oh, Lucy, give it up,” Lois told her, sounding annoyed. “Just because you fall for every man who’s…okay looking — ”

“Lois, he is more than okay looking. You can’t tell me you haven’t admired his…assets a few times.”

Fighting to keep a blank expression, I took in a deep breath and walked back to my desk, and they cut off their argument. But then Lucy whispered furiously, “We have to invite him to lunch with us.”

“Lucy — ” Lois hissed. But her sister was already approaching me.

I looked up at her, trying to appear unconcerned.

“Clark, why don’t you come to lunch with me and Lois?” Lucy suggested.

I looked over at Lois, who was shaking her head and mouthing, “No.” Then I looked up at Lucy and grinned. “I would love to.”

***

Lois was sullen through lunch, but Lucy made up for it by being cheerful.

“I dropped out of college,” Lucy explained, “but now I’m taking some night classes at Met U and working as a waitress.”

“Do you enjoy it?” I asked her, my gaze flicking only briefly to Lois, who hadn’t spoken for the last five minutes.

“It’s not the best job in the world, but it gets the bills paid,” Lucy said with a shrug.

My eyes brimming with mischief, I asked her, “So, do you have any embarrassing stories about your sister?”

“Lucy,” Lois growled in warning.

But Lucy appeared to be having just as much fun as I was. “Well, I do have a picture back home of Lois in a tutu.”

Lois’s face was flushed. “That was only because Daddy made me take that dance class! You know I didn’t want to do it.”

“Yeah, and Lois walked off the stage in the middle of the performance. That’s why Daddy let her quit.”

“We were doing ‘The Good Ship Lollipop,’ and I hated candy at the time!” Lois defended.

Grinning, I took a bite of my sandwich, which I’d only eaten part of. Then I froze, my super hearing picking up the noise of a fire truck. Tuning my ears to the emergency services’ radio communications, I learned quickly that it was a big fire with several people trapped. This was something I would need to help with.

Lois must have seen the look on my face, as she said, “Clark — ”

“I’m sorry. I have to go. I’m…expecting my mineral of the month to come in,” I told them lamely, recalling something my dad had once been subscribed to.

As I dashed off, not even waiting for a response, I heard Lucy ask, “Does he do that often?”

Lois’s reply made me wince: “Constantly.”

I stopped quickly by my apartment to pick up my canine partner. He barked happily when he saw me in my Superman outfit, for he knew what that meant. I was especially in need of his help because I wasn’t at full Superman capacity yet. We zipped away to the burning building, and I gave Krypto some quick instructions. This was a situation my mother had trained him for, so he went off obediently to do his duty.

We both helped pull several people from the burning building, and I put out the fire with my breath. I wasn’t as quick about it as normal, but at least the presence of Krypto helped ensure there weren’t any casualties.

Finally, I went with the dirty Krypto over to the firemen.

“That was amazing, Superman,” one man commented. He knelt and scratched my canine companion behind the ears. “It must be great to have Krypto as a partner. He certainly helped save some lives today.”

“Yes, he did,” I said absently, an idea occurring to me. I looked around for the fire chief and saw him talking to a woman. After nodding a goodbye to the man who had scratched Krypto’s ears, I approached the fire chief with the dog at my heels. When he saw me, he stopped talking and turned to me. “Superman, thanks for helping us out here!”

I smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without Krypto.”

The fire chief nodded. “That’s a great dog you have there, Superman.”

“I know. In fact, I was just thinking that I would like to offer his services to you several hours a week.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

“I can’t help with every fire, but maybe Krypto could work with your men some. We could work out a schedule, and I can give you a list of important commands that would help you communicate with him.”

The fire chief began speaking quickly in excitement. “That would be great, Superman! He could help us find victims, lead firefighters out of the flames, protect firefighters in high crime areas, help out with presentations at schools.… You don’t mind if he wears a fire hat at the schools, do you?”

I blinked. “Uh, I guess not.”

“Stop, drop, and roll — ah, man, the kids will love it!”

I smiled to myself as the fire chief continued speaking excitedly. Krypto would be a great mascot. I just hoped he would be okay with it. But as I looked at him happily licking a pair of children that had been rescued from the burning building, I didn’t think he would mind.

***

When I returned to the Planet, I said hello to Lois. But clearly she was still annoyed about my running off at lunch and was actively ignoring me.

However, I had prepared for that possibility ahead of time by buying a bag of miniature chocolate bars. I stood in front of her desk holding the bag. “Forgive me?” I asked her with an innocent grin.

Lois stared at the chocolate in my hands, bit her lip, and then turned her eyes back to her screen. “For what?” she bit out.

I crossed my arms. “First, you were mad at me for going to lunch with you. Then, you were mad at me for leaving. You don’t mean you actually wanted me there?”

She looked at me, her eyes flicking briefly down to my hands. “Don’t be ridiculous. I wanted you there like I want a leech on the back of my hand.”

“Well, if you didn’t want me there, then I guess I don’t have anything to apologize for.” I started to move away but paused as she said something.

“You had no business inviting yourself to lunch with me and my sister!”

“She invited me,” I pointed out.

“Well.…” She was obviously running out of steam, and I had the feeling the bag I was holding wasn’t helping. “Just give me the chocolate, Kent.”

I grinned and plopped the bag on her desk. “Clark,” I prompted.

Lois pointed a finger at me. “Don’t you think for a moment that you can buy me off with chocolate, Clark.” But as I returned to my desk, I saw her tear into the plastic and snatch a couple pieces, which she then proceeded to unwrap.

I laughed to myself. I knew she hadn’t been truly mad.

A little while later, I remembered something important, and I turned to my “occasional partner.”

“Hey, Lois?”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“Are you going to the Planet fundraiser tomorrow?”

“Of course. It’s for a good cause.” She considered me for a few seconds. “I’ll be there at two. And if you happen to be there at the same time as me, well, maybe we can walk around together.”

As she went back to her work, I shook my head. She was really something.

***

The next day, the street outside the Daily Planet was closed to vehicular traffic for the street fair.

I met Lois at the designated time, and we began to walk around together. I stopped at a food booth and asked her, “Cotton candy? Candy apple? Hot dog? Lemonade?”

She laughed. “One candy apple please.”

“Two candy apples, please,” I requested of the vendor as I pulled out some money. I recognized him as one of the members of the Planet’s board of directors. It felt strange to have him serving me, if only for a day.

He smiled amiably and got us our candy apples. We left the booth with our prizes, only to soon be laughing at each other as our faces became sticky messes. I pulled out from my pocket one of the napkins I had grabbed and gave it to her before pulling out a napkin for myself.

“Thanks,” she said with a chuckle as she began wiping her face.

We stopped by the bandstand to eat our candy apples more carefully. They were playing the “Imperial March” from Star Wars, and Lois raised an eyebrow at me. “Bet you’re loving this.”

“You have no idea,” I returned. The song always did bring a grin to my face, even if it was the theme of one of the bigscreen’s greatest villains.

We had mostly finished our apples when Jimmy’s voice came to our ears: “Step right up here, folks. Just one dollar, one measly dollar, and you’ll learn your future. Madame Blavatsky knows all, sees all, tells all.…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Shall we chunk these and go check out our futures?”

She chuckled. “Sounds good to me.”

We threw away the remainder of our sticky fruits and went to Madame Blavatsky’s booth. I didn’t know who was more shocked, Lois or me, when it became obvious that Perry White was playing the part of a female fortune teller. He had a lot of scarves swirled around his person, over-the-top makeup, and garish fingernails. Lois was ushered into the booth first, and I waited outside with Jimmy, who was really enjoying his own role.

I couldn’t help but lower my glasses and watch and listen to Perry and Lois.

“Oh, the spirits are speaking to me,” the Chief Editor said in an intense whisper.

“Really?” Lois asked in amusement. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Go on.”

“They are telling me…yes, they are saying there is great love in your future.… There is a man…your soul mate.… You must not let this great love slip from your fingers, or something terrible will happen.”

Lois rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. What about fame and fortune? You know, the juicy stuff.”

“Hmm.… The crystal ball is cloudy. Perhaps you should try again later.”

She laughed. “You just want to get another dollar from me.”

“The spirits will not respond to that,” Perry told her with a grin.

Lois came out from the tent and told me, “Good luck in there. He’s laying it on pretty thick.”

I laughed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

I went inside and sat in front of Perry and his crystal globe. He waved his fingers over the globe and spoke in a low voice. “The spirits say you have a great destiny.… True love is in front of you, and you must grab at it. Even with the burden of the world on your shoulders…you must not underestimate the importance of counting on others.”

Though his voice had an air of mystery to it, there was a seriousness in the Chief Editor’s eyes. He finished with, “This spirits support you in your endeavors.… But you must not forget to think about yourself. Do not let love pass you by.”

I gave him a half smile and a nod and then went outside with a heavy heart. He just didn’t know what was at stake.

Lois patted my shoulder. “He talk to you about true love, too?”

I gave an attempt at a laugh. “Something like that. Let’s go visit the other booths.”

We hadn’t walked very far before Lois stopped in front of a booth where people were trying to knock down milk jugs. “All right. Here’s your chance to prove your masculinity.” She held out some money to the barker. “Go for it, Clark.”

I could have easily knocked all the milk jugs over, but I missed on purpose. Lois handed over more money, however, so after doing it a few times, I allowed myself to let the ball land in the right spot with the right force.

“And you win!” the barker exclaimed. “Choose your prize from this row.”

I gestured for Lois to pick out something. She considered the options for a few seconds. There were three stuffed toys on the row the barker had motioned to: Superman, Krypto, and a black and white bear. I was sure she was going to pick Superman, so I was utterly surprised when she grabbed at the bear. I raised my eyebrows, and she defended, “It’s cute!”

I laughed, feeling strangely pleased. “All right. Now, it’s your turn to play a game. What’ll it be?”

She looked around and then headed for the kiddie pool filled with plastic ducks.

“Lois, this is for kids.…”

“Well, right now, I feel like a kid, so there.” She stuck her tongue out at me for emphasis. Then she gave the amused female barker her money and surveyed the ducks. There were yellow ducks, pink ducks, and green ducks of three different sizes. “Hmm.…”

“What about that one?” I suggested, pointing to a large green duck.

“Too big,” she told me. She knelt and picked up a small pink duck. “I like this one!” She turned it over to look at the number.

“Looks like you won a whistle!” the barker announced, handing Lois her prize.

Lois looked pleased, and I was surprised when she suddenly handed the red whistle to me. “You can use this for Jericho.”

I smiled down at the toy in my hand. Then a flash of inspiration hit me. It wasn’t a bad idea, using a whistle of sorts with Jericho. I would just need to talk to Dr. Klein about making a special device for Krypto’s collar.…

I was bringing the whistle to my mouth to blow in it when Perry came over, still in his fortune-teller getup. “There’s a bank robbery happening at the First Bank of Metropolis. Lois, I want you to cover it. Superman might be there, and you might be able to get a few quotes from him.”

It looked like he gave me a meaningful glance, but I couldn’t be sure, as he was soon gone.

Lois shoved the bear at me. “Think you can hold onto this for me? Thanks, Clark!” And then she was gone, too.

I looked around for a suitable place to take off as Superman. I would also need to stash the bear somewhere.

***

I helped bring the bank robbers into custody, handing them over to the police. One of the robbers was quite vocal and explicit in cursing me, but I ignored him and went outside.

Lois was stepping out of a cab as I talked briefly to a police officer. “Superman!” she cried out.

I turned away from the police officer and nodded at her, my arms crossed.

“Superman, what happened?”

I gave her a brief summary of what had developed. I tried to be distant, knowing I had been far too familiar with her in the past as Superman, but I just couldn’t bring myself to snub her. As I moved to go, I saw a small smile on her face. I wasn’t doing a very good job of subduing her Superman crush at all.

***

Chapter 24: Lovin’ Someone in Vain

Blue river,

It winds along a path of heartache and pain,

Of broken dreams from lovin’ someone in vain.

— “Blue River”

***

A few weeks passed. Superman was still a big success, and all of Metropolis — except, of course, for the criminal element — loved him. Lois even stole a story about him from me. As payback, I sent her through the sewers on a wild goose hunt. Soon after that, Perry paired us together as partners permanently, and she evinced a grudging respect for me.

Since we were together even more often, I had to run out on her with dumb excuses more frequently to perform Super feats, and I began to feel guilty. In fact, I felt so bad about it I even asked my dad how to get a subscription to the Mineral of the Month Club, which he was once subscribed to. I even brought my first rock — Lazurite — to work to show Lois. But even with such a small shred of proof that I wasn’t utterly flaky, I had the feeling Lois would have been furious at me were it not for her frequent meetings with Superman. For some reason, my superhero persona could always put Lois in a good mood. I wanted to tell her as Superman that there could never be a relationship between us, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. She hadn’t made any obvious overtures — hadn’t even tried to hug me — and there was a small part of me that wondered if she really did have a crush on Superman. However, that small part of me was usually smashed when she started happily exhorting the superhero’s exploits.

At Superman’s request, Dr. Klein made a special device for Krypto. We attached the device to Krypto’s collar. I — Superman — would press a button on a homing beacon disguised as a thin watch hidden under the sleeve of my suit. The device on Krypto’s collar would then emit a frequency that only dogs could hear, and it would increase in volume the closer he got to my watch. By having this system, I wouldn’t have to pick up Krypto if I were busy as Superman, but I could still call him for help. I had to first teach him to jump off the balcony (I installed a doggy door so he could get outside), and he learned what he was supposed to do quickly. One perk of this system was that he could let himself out to answer nature’s call if I wasn’t home for a while.

I was feeling good about where I was in life. I just wished Lois would drop her obsession with Superman.

“You should have seen him with those orphans — he was just amazing,” Lois was telling me as we returned to the Planet from a boring morning press conference.

Casting around for ideas to get her to stop her gushing, I finally said, “Five bucks says you can’t name all nine planets.”

“You’re on,” she said eagerly. “Earth. Mars. Mercury. Jupiter. Saturn…Venus…Uranus.…” She frowned in thought; she was holding up seven fingers. “Saturn?”

“You already said that.”

“Neptune!” she exclaimed, her fingers curled back down. “That was nine, wasn’t it?”

I smirked. “No, that was eight.”

She placed her chin on her head. “Oh, I know this.…”

“Five seconds…Four…Three…Two.…”

“Mercury? Mars? Neptune?”

“Ennhhhh. The last one was Pluto.”

“Pluto! I knew that. Try me with something else.”

“All right.” I crossed my arms in amusement. “Twelve Days of Christmas.”

“A partridge in a pear tree. Two turtle doves. Three French hens. Four…swans a-swimming?”

I shook my head. “That’s not what the four goes with.”

Lois tapped her fingers on her desk. “Five golden rings,” she sang to herself. “Four calling birds!”

“Good,” I smiled. “Or colly birds, if you want to talk about how they’re black.”

She rolled her eyes. “Seven swans a-swimming. Six geese a-laying.”

“Go on.”

“Eight…um.…”

I grinned. “Giving up already?”

“No!” she declared defensively. “I just need some time to think. Twelve pipers piping?”

“No.”

“Twelve…lords a-leaping?”

“No.”

“Twelve…maids a-milking?”

“You can’t just keep guessing,” I told her, wagging a finger at her. “You have to be able to sing the song properly from twelve.”

“On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…twelve drummers drumming!” she exclaimed in excitement. “Eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping.…”

“And…?”

I could tell she didn’t know the ninth one, so I prompted, “Five seconds. Five…four…three…two…one. Nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking.”

She slammed her fist on the table. “I knew that one, too!”

“No, you didn’t,” I laughed. “You can’t stand to lose, can you? That’s ten bucks you owe me.”

“Give me one more chance to redeem myself,” she demanded. “Dwarves, reindeer, anything — throw it at me, and I’ll get it.”

I raised an eyebrow. But she looked so earnest that I couldn’t say nay. “All right,” I acceded. “If you win, I’ll drop the ten dollars you owe me. But if you fail this time, you have to go with me to a movie of my choosing.” As soon as I made the suggestion, I knew it was foolish, but it was too late to take it back.

Especially when Lois agreed: “Deal.”

I tapped my finger against my chin as I tried to think of a category. Finally, I had one. “Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Greed. Sloth. Gluttony.” She paused. “Envy. Umm…Obesity?”

“That falls under gluttony, Lois,” I said with a snort. “Nice try.”

“Anger?”

“Close.”

“Wrath!” Lois realized. She looked up at me with a big grin, only to falter a little as I met her eyes with my own. She licked her lips, a light flick of her tongue that left them glistening with moisture, and then said in a quiet voice, “Lust.”

I averted my eyes. My heart was out of place — I was pretty sure it was in my throat. “And the last one?” I asked hoarsely.

She drummed her fingers against her desk, but the energy that had been behind our conversation had dissipated like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Finally, I told her, “Pride.”

“Pride,” she repeated to herself quietly.

I cleared my throat. “We should, uh, go to the movies Saturday night.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Lex and I are going away to a cabin for the weekend.”

I felt a spike of something suspiciously like jealousy. Luthor had probably wanted to go to a private island, and Lois had probably made him tone it down.

Still, my voice was level when I replied, “That’s fine. Some other time then.” I gave her a smile and then turned to my desk.

I didn’t specifically hate the wealthy man; I mostly just felt a general sense of unease around him. There had been a few suspicious attempts to test and perhaps kill Superman, but I didn’t know if they could be tied to Luthor. I was grasping at straws. But this ridiculous envy of mine had to stop. I could never be intimate with a woman, much less marry one. I had to put a check on my emotions.

***

Later that afternoon, Lois approached my desk. “It’s time for that Key To The City ceremony,” she reminded me.

My eyes widened. I had completely forgotten about that. Superman was supposed to receive the Key To The City from Lex Luthor out in front of the Planet. “Uh, you go on ahead — I’ll catch up to you.”

“Suit yourself,” she said as she grabbed her coat.

I left soon after she did, ducking away from the Planet into an alley to change into my Superman guise. I was beginning to feel nervous. A great crowd had formed outside, and there was Superman and Krypto memorabilia everywhere. T-shirts, dolls, mugs, postcards, cardboard cut-outs — any tourist-friendly item that could have a Superman logo slapped on it was for sale. And cameras were out there in abundance. It seemed no one wanted to miss a surefire chance to get a picture of the superhero.

I had to pause and breathe and remind myself why I was there. I was there to show people I cared. I was there to help people. The celebrity status was just a byproduct, a necessary evil.

As I flew above the crowd and landed on the platform, I saw various important Metropolis citizens and past recipients of the Key To The City. The crowd went wild as I landed, and I tried to ignore their noise as I shook the hands of the people on stage. My final handshake was with Lex Luthor. I nearly squeezed a little harder than was necessary, but I reminded myself that Lois was dating him and I needed to behave. I was Superman, not Superchildish.

Luthor moved to the microphone and spoke with the ease of someone accustomed to the public eye. “My good citizens of Metropolis, please, let’s all give a round of applause for Superman.” He paused to allow people to yell and clap. When they quieted down, he began speaking again. “He came to us as a strange visitor from another planet, but now he is one of us. His good deeds have caught the eye of all, and we are truly thankful for what he has done. As last year’s recipient of the Key To The City, I am deeply honored to be able to pass it on to such a worthy person as Superman.” He smiled and took the golden key off his neck and handed it to the mayor. As he moved away from the microphone, she stepped toward it.

“Thank you, Mr. Luthor,” the mayor said warmly. “It is with great pride that I proclaim this day Superman Day and that I offer you this precious gift: the Key To The City.”

I took a step toward her, and she placed the ceremonial object around my neck. The crowd burst into applause, and I gave them a shy smile. Inhaling deeply, I stepped up to the microphone. If the cameras had been flashing like excited lightning bugs before, it was nothing compared to what they were doing now. “Thank you. I — ” I cut off as I suddenly realized I didn’t have everyone’s attention. The crowd’s glee turned to horror as people turned to stare at the roof of a nearby building. A woman was standing on the edge, and she looked as if she were about to jump.

“Excuse me,” I murmured into the microphone. I zipped up to the rooftop behind the woman. I could forcibly move her onto the ground below, but I didn’t want to scare her. “Miss,” I said softly.

She turned around to look at me, fumbling with her watch. “Superman.…”

“What are you doing up here? Please move away from the edge. Whatever’s wrong, it can’t be bad enough to take your life.…”

She nodded and stepped away from the ledge. “You’re right, Superman.”

We walked forward, moving out of the crowd’s sight. She stopped behind me, and I turned to look at her.

My head suddenly started to hurt, and I closed my eyes and grabbed at my temples. What — ?

Meteor rock.

My eyes shot open, and I swiveled around. The man who had come into my apartment with a warrant was approaching me with several other men. He was holding a large green stone and a handgun which I feared had meteor rock bullets in it.

“What…do you want?” I gritted, fighting the urge to go down to my knees. I didn’t want him to see how much he was affecting me, though pretty soon I would have no choice but to collapse in front of him.

“What is your mission on Earth?” the man asked me.

“Mission?” I repeated, still standing somehow.

He got closer to me, holding the meteor rock out toward me. “Your mission. You are the advance guard for an alien race. How many of your people are going to attack? When are they going to make their move? How much do your people know about Earth?”

I tried to back away from the green rock, but my legs wouldn’t hold me any longer, and I fell to my hands and knees. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I managed, looking up at him.

He gave me a tight smile. “Just as I suspected. The radiation from periodic element 126 does have an effect on Kryptonian physiology. Pick him up.”

Some of his men stepped forward and grabbed my arms; I was too weak to fight them. They started to drag me toward the door that led toward the stairs, and the man in charge turned to talk to the woman I had thought was a jumper. She had obviously been planted.

The door opened before we reached it, and I looked up to see Constance — the last person I would have expected — taking a quick survey of my situation. The men holding me dropped me and fumbled for their guns. Their leader noticed the commotion and turned with the intention to shoot Constance.

But Constance whipped out her pocket watch. Knowing what she was doing, I immediately closed my eyes.

“See the watch and only the watch,” she said in a hypnotic voice. “Hear my voice and only my voice. Your mind is clear. Your will is gone.”

Though I kept my eyes closed, I couldn’t help but marvel at what she was doing. It had to be difficult to hypnotize so many people at once. She really must have been a master of it.

“Move all of that harmful rock away from Superman,” she commanded them.

Feeling it was finally safe to open my eyes, I did so. I watched as they followed her orders. The relief I felt as the meteor rock was moved even further away from me was almost palpable. Still, I felt tension of an entirely different kind.

Constance spoke again. “If you ever learn Superman’s real identity, you must immediately forget it.”

“What?” I gasped, looking at her in surprise.

“Go stand over by the ledge,” she commanded, not answering me immediately. After giving them time to move away, she told me in a low voice, “Clark, I know you’re Superman.”

I had a brief moment of fear in which I wasn’t sure what persona I was in, but after looking down at my suit, I got my bearings back and said calmly, “What makes you think I’m Clark?”

Her voice sounded sad. “I was so devastated when you left Africa, Clark. I tried to bury myself in magic, but there was still this gaping hole inside me. And then when you told me at the Magic Club that you never wanted to see me again.…” She shook her head. “I tried to tear myself away from you, to think about other things, but I couldn’t. So I bugged your apartment, hoping that watching videos of you would be enough. And then I learned about the meteor rock and your secret identity. I destroyed the tapes after I watched them, but knowing you were Superman made me so happy. I was able to see pictures of you as him in the paper — and I could read stories you had written. I came to the ceremony today to see you.… And when I saw that jumper, I knew you would go save her, so I rushed into the building in hopes that I would be able to talk to you again. I knew you didn’t want to see me — but I wanted to see you. I had to see you.”

“Constance.…” I didn’t know what to say. She had utterly invaded my privacy and left me feeling vulnerable and exposed. If she could do it so easily, so could anyone else. But was Constance wholly to blame? “I think you need to seek some…professional help.” There really did seem to be something wrong with her mental state.

“Clark, there’s no saving me,” she said with a sigh. “I am deeply in love with you, and every day that love just grows. I know you can’t reciprocate it. I don’t want to believe that, but I know it. Still, that love is what makes my life worth living — I read your exploits in the paper, and I’m inspired. With anyone else, I could easily have turned to despair and hate. My lack of recognition as a magician could have made me turn to violence and murder. But my love for you keeps me from that. And now it’s time to save you. I will make it so these men will never be a threat again.”

“Constance, I thought you said you were turning away from murder?” I said in an elevated voice, about to panic.

“I’m just going to command them never to harm you,” she told me.

I shook my head, sure I wanted no part in Constance’s magic. My life was already complicated enough. “No,” I said firmly. “Please, just hold them while I go get some rope. These people need to be turned in to the authorities.”

She hesitated. “All right.”

I flew off and got some rope, and then I tied up all the still-hypnotized men. When I was confident they wouldn’t be getting free, I looked at my unexpected savior. “Constance, I appreciate your saving my life, but I don’t want to see you anymore. Please, get the police, release these people from your hypnosis, and then don’t come back.”

I felt cruel saying those words, and I knew they hurt her. But she was a part of my past that I had to leave behind if I was ever going to move forward.

Perhaps she knew that as well, for she just nodded slowly before turning and leaving. I thought then that I would never see her again. And though I was wrong, I lowered my head in sad acknowledgement when I heard the words she whispered as she left the rooftop: “I love you, Clark.”

***

Chapter 25: She Found the Boy She Likes

She found the boy she likes.

She wanted to get married,

Settle down for life.

— “Girl Next Door Went A-Walkin’”

***

When I went in to work on Monday, I was feeling glum. I had crushed the bugs Constance had planted in my apartment, so my privacy was no longer in jeopardy for the time being, but I still felt terrible about the situation with Constance. Africa had transformed her from an independent woman into someone so dependent she had to stoop to listening devices to find happiness. I wanted to help her, but my presence in her life was only hurting her. Even if she claimed I was bringing goodness into her life, I couldn’t believe her. She was mentally disturbed, and she needed professional help. But I couldn’t force her into it. And that made me feel more miserable.

To top it off, even the normally cheerful Jimmy seemed sober that day.

“Jimmy, you all right?” I asked him as he passed by my desk carrying some photos.

“Huh?” He looked up and stopped. “Oh, C.K., hi. I, uh — I dunno. I took these pictures, but they just aren’t any good. I’m going to have to scrap them all.”

“Did Perry say that?”

“No. It’s just — they aren’t any good.”

“Let me see them,” I told him. There were pictures of the Key To The City ceremony and the woman I had thought was going to jump from the building. I raised my eyebrow as I looked at them. Jimmy had gotten some really good shots — maybe he knew a lot more about what would make good front page pictures than he thought he did. After some mental debate, I managed to pick out a few of them, and I held them out to Jimmy. “These are all really good, Jimmy, but these are especially great. You should show them to Perry.” He was obviously struggling with self confidence, and I wanted to give him a push. As an office gopher, he’d dabbled in a little bit of everything. I was just beginning to realize how big of an asset he was to this paper — he could certainly do greater things than fetch Perry White’s dry cleaning.

He looked at the pictures I had pulled out. “You think so, C.K.?” he asked, dubious.

“Definitely.”

“Thanks.” He gave me a small smile and headed toward the Editor-in-Chief’s office with a little bit more energy than he’d had moments before. I watched him for a moment before turning to my desk.

“Hello, handsome,” Cat purred as she walked by. There was someone who wasn’t lacking self confidence, I reflected. But as she paused to put on some lipstick, I began to reconsider. Was Cat’s outrageousness an attempt to compensate for a lack of confidence? I was considering the idea when I saw Lois sit down at her desk in a daze.

“Lois? Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. What was with Mondays?

“Huh?” She looked up. “Uh, yeah.”

I wasn’t convinced. “How about we go into the conference room to talk?” I suggested. She wasn’t acting herself, and I was curious as to why.

“Uh, okay, sure,” she mumbled.

I had to basically guide her into the room. Then, I shut the door and helped her get into a chair.

Sitting across from her, I said, “All right, Lois. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she echoed. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Well, you’re acting strange,” I pointed out, trying to glean something from her expression. “Did something happen?”

She shook her head. “Did something happen? Oh, no, nothing big — just…Lex proposed to me.”

“What?” I was so surprised I nearly shot to my feet.

“It happens every day. You know, boy meets girl, boy takes girl to cabin, boy proposes to girl with a giant diamond ring.… It’s perfectly normal.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Her voice had a hint of hysteria in it.

I barely heard the rest of her words. My heart was shattering into pieces, each one of them bringing me far more pain than any shard of the meteor rock ever had.

I had begun to love her. Despite all my good intentions — despite telling myself I could never be in a romantic relationship — I had begun to love Lois Lane. Fully. Completely. Truly. Wholly. She had wrapped my heart and soul around that demanding finger, and now she was throwing both of them into the blender, turning them into a liquid mess.

“What did you tell him?” I asked hoarsely.

She had risen to her feet and was pacing at this point. “I told him I needed some time to think. This is an important decision. I need to explore all my options before I just dive in.”

I simply nodded. I didn’t try to stop her. I didn’t try to give her a reason not to accept Lex Luthor’s proposal. I just stood there silently, ignoring the plaintive pleas of what remained of my heart as it begged me to stop her from making such a terrible mistake. But her next words left me absolutely dumbfounded.

“What do you think I should do?”

“What?” I gasped in reply. Had she really just asked me that?

“I — you’re my best friend, Clark. I want to know what you think.”

I looked down uncomfortably as she sat across from me. “I just want you to be happy…and safe.” I hadn’t meant for those last two words to slip out, but they had.

“Safe?” she echoed incredulously. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I just — it’s just that I want you to be with someone who’ll be able to take care of you.” That hadn’t come out right either.

The fire of defiance remained in her eyes. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”

“I know,” I said, offering her a wry smile as a sort of olive branch. “But you do tend to get into danger a lot.”

She opened her mouth — likely to deny the validity of what I had just said — but as she looked at me, her eyes softened. “I might occasionally get into danger,” she admitted. “But it comes with the investigative reporter territory.”

I managed a chuckle, though my heart was heavy. “I guess I just worry about you sometimes.…”

She stared at me, and I met her gaze. Then she dropped her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but I refrained. Touching her wouldn’t do much good for her, and it would do a whole world of bad for me. I was too on edge.

“I — I don’t — ” She shook her head. “It’s nothing, Clark.” She turned her head to stare out toward the newsroom. “I’d like to contact Superman — but how do you get in touch with a superhero, anyway?” She turned with a slight smile. “How do you communicate in Kansas, farmboy? Smoke signals?”

I allowed my eyes to flutter shut for just the briefest of moments. This was the final nail in the coffin. She had to see Superman to ask him if there was hope for them as a couple. And he — I — had to tell her there wasn’t any.

“I have an idea,” I muttered. Then I whispered that I wished her the best of happiness and stumbled out of the room.

My fragmented heart somehow continued to beat. I had no idea how.

***

That night, feeling like a dog crawling back to the one that had just beaten him, I went to Lois’s apartment in my Superman suit. Her window was open; she was awaiting my arrival. Always a glutton for punishment, I had come inside her apartment through the window a few times to see her about one thing or another. But there was something different about this time. This time would be the last.

She greeted me warmly, “Hi, Superman.”

The child in me wanted to laugh in her face. How could she hold on to a fantasy of loving a man called “Superman”? She had never begged me to tell her my real name. She had simply accepted that name she had created. Superman was an ideal. He wasn’t a person.

And I was here now because I couldn’t ever tell Lois no.… But this time, I would have to. “Hi, Lois,” I returned softly.

“Would you like to come in?”

I lowered myself onto the floor, but I didn’t walk over to the couch. “I can’t stay long.” My arms were crossed, just like they almost always were when I was in the suit, but this time I felt as if I were trying to protect myself from something. What, exactly, I wasn’t sure, but the desire to flee was strong, and my willpower was being stretched to the max.

“Okay,” she said with a nod, staring down at her hands. “Lex Luthor proposed to me, but I don’t…I don’t know if I can marry him.”

I forced my expression to remain stoic. “And why is that?”

“I don’t think I love him. I think…I think I’m in love with someone else.” She looked up at me, but I averted my eyes from her. This conversation was making me feel worse by the second. Of course Lois was in love with Superman instead of me, the real man behind the suit. That was just how things worked in my life.

“If you don’t love Lex Luthor, then don’t marry him,” I told her shortly. I took in a deep breath, knowing my next words would cost me something. “But if you do love him, then marry him. You should only marry someone you love.”

I turned to the window and flew outside slowly, not wanting to give Lois a chance to say anything else but also not wanting to zip away without another word. I paused to look at her for the briefest of moments. “Goodbye, Lois.” And then I left her standing there at the window, whispering the name of my superhero persona in confusion and, perhaps, desolation.

***

The next day, Lois was wearing a diamond ring on her left hand. I had thought there was nothing left of my heart, but I was wrong because it broke a little bit more.

Lois tried to talk to me a few times, but I was mostly quiet except for when I needed to say something concerning the story we were working on. I barely had the energy to move, much less converse. Lois’s engagement had shaken me to the core.

Around lunchtime, Lois disappeared into Perry’s office. Probably to receive his congratulations, I reflected morosely. Could things get any worse?

A few minutes later, I found out they could when Lex Luthor, the main cause of my moroseness, approached my desk.

“Mr. Kent,” he said warmly. “Is Lois around? We’re supposed to have lunch.”

She must have called him to accept his proposal right after I had left her apartment. And he must have been so pleased that he suggested they talk about wedding plans over lunch. That was what I suspected, anyway. If I was wrong, well, what did it matter? They were getting married, and that was that.

“She’s talking to Perry. She should be out in a few minutes.” I paused, words that I needed to say but didn’t want to catching in my throat. But I forced myself to speak them: “Congratulations on your engagement.”

His smile, which was already big, simply grew larger. “Thank you. I’m a very lucky man. Lois is an amazing woman.”

I nodded. “Just make sure you take good care of her.”

“Oh, I will. I can assure you of that.”

I forced a smile and was relieved when Lois walked up to us. “Lex, you’re here,” she said.

“Yes, I’m sorry, darling, I’m a few minutes early. But I just couldn’t wait to see you.”

She laughed, and the noise — once so precious to me — was like a stake being driven through my chest.

I gave them the most pleasant expression I could muster and told them, “Best wishes to you both. I hope you will be very happy in your life together.” And then I left them to go wait for the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I watched as Luthor kissed Lois’s cheek and she smiled.

***

After work, I went straight to my apartment, glad to escape Lois’s torturous presence. Krypto, I quickly discovered, was dirty from helping out with a fire earlier in the day. I got a wet towel and tried to scrub off the worst of the grime. I just wasn’t in the mood to give him a bath.

When I was finished, I threw the towel on the floor and sat on the couch. Jericho jumped up beside me and placed a paw on my leg. When I continued to ignore him, he started to scratch my leg. “Nyet,” I told him. He whimpered, but he stopped.

Finally, I stood. I could put the dye on him and take him on a walk, but I just wasn’t up for it. My thoughts were too jumbled. I grabbed my cordless phone and called my parents. They probably couldn’t help me, but I just had to talk to someone.

“Hello?” Dad answered.

“Hi, Dad.”

He must have heard the solemnity in my voice, as he said, “Hold on a second, Clark.” He held the receiver away from his mouth. “Martha, pick up the phone! It’s Clark.”

A few seconds later, she was on the phone. “Clark?”

I swallowed. “Hi, Mom.”

Her mother radar went off. “Clark, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sure it’ll be hitting the society section of the papers any time,” I said with a sigh. “Lex Luthor proposed to Lois Lane, and she accepted.”

“Oh, honey.…” The pity in her voice was almost palpable.

“It’s what she wants,” I said. But I didn’t sound convincing even to myself.

“Clark, why don’t you just tell Lois how you feel?” Dad suggested.

“I can’t,” I said firmly.

“Why don’t you tell Lois your real identity?” Mom asked.

“No,” I replied, a little more forcefully than I had intended. “If I were in a relationship with her, I would put her in danger both with myself and with other people.”

“But you might not get to see Lois as much if she marries Lex Luthor,” she pointed out.

“It’s for the best.”

I cocked my head at the sound of a siren, and Jericho started barking. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you,” Mom returned right before I hung up.

Somehow, I wasn’t feeling any better.

***

Wednesday, I got the last request I would have wanted or expected from Lois.

“Excuse me?” I asked her, not sure I had heard her right.

With uncharacteristic patience, she repeated herself. “Lex and I discussed it, and we would like you to be Lex’s best man.”

I hadn’t known it was possible to feel any lower. Swallowing, I said, “I, uh, I don’t know, Lois.…”

“You saved his life,” she pointed out. “And you’re important to me, Clark. Lex wants to do this for me. I would really like it if you accepted.”

As I stared into those soulful brown eyes, I couldn’t make myself refuse. “All right, Lois. I’ll do it.” I figured it wasn’t like I could get much more miserable.

“Clark!” Perry called out. “My office!”

I nodded at Lois and then slowly made the journey to the Editor-in-Chief’s office. When I went in, Perry gestured for me to take a seat.

As I sank into a chair, he said, “I guess, uh, Lois has told you her news.”

“Yes,” I confirmed emotionlessly.

“Now, uh, son, I think you should know that things weren’t easy between Elvis and Priscilla. They met in Germany when she was fourteen, and she moved to the United States before she graduated high school to have a chance at a relationship with him.” He paused. “Love is…well, it’s a bumpy road. But you’ve gotta travel on that bumpy road if you want the bluebird of happiness to land on your shoulder.”

I just stared at him. I was so numb I couldn’t even bring myself to react to what he was saying.

He clasped his hands together. “Clark, I’ve been holding myself back, but I can’t any longer. It’s obvious you have feelings for Lois, son. Why don’t you just go after her? Throw yourself at your feet, cover her desk with flowers.… Take some sort of action.”

“I’m going to be Lex Luthor’s best man,” I said in a flat voice.

Perry didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “What?” He shook his head and slapped his hands on the desk. “Now, Clark, you can easily win Lois away from that business tycoon. He may have money and charisma, but that’s all he’s got. And those things won’t keep Lois happy. We both know that.”

“Lois has made her decision, Chief. I’m going to support her. But thanks for your concern. I appreciate it.”

I stood and walked out of his office, wondering at my robotlike state. Did I want to torture myself? Did I want to see the woman I loved — yes, I couldn’t deny it, I loved her — marry another man?

To protect her from me, yes, I did.

***

The wedding day approached quickly. Every second brought it closer, and each one was torturous for me. I kept trying to think of excuses not to go to the wedding, but my agreement to come had made Lois so happy that I couldn’t back out. My parents called me every night, worried about me. At the Planet, Jimmy kept looking at me as if I had grown another head, and Perry attempted more than once to broach the subject of Lois’s marriage again. Even my dog seemed to be giving me sympathetic glances. But I wasn’t having any of it. Lois had made her decision, and I had made mine. When the invitation came in the mail, I opened it with admittedly shaky hands and placed it on the refrigerator, where it stared at me constantly as a reminder of what was coming.

A few days before the wedding, an older woman came to the Planet and made a beeline to Lois’s desk.

“Mother!” Lois exclaimed, not sounding very enthusiastic. “What are you doing here?”

“What — now you don’t want to speak to your own mother? My daughter’s getting married to the richest man in the city, and I have to learn about it through an invitation.”

“I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer,” Lois gritted.

Her mother crossed her arms. “Well, you should have tried again.”

Sighing, Lois said, “I left a message for you to call me.”

Wanting to give Lois a little relief, I walked over to them.

Lois looked grateful and stood. Grabbing my arm, she said, “Mother, this is Clark Kent. He’s my partner. Clark, this is Ellen Lane.”

I shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, yes, it’s good to meet you,” Ellen Lane acknowledged, waving a hand in the air, obviously unconcerned with who I was. “Now, Lois, do you have your dress yet?”

Lois sighed. “Yes, Mother, I have my dress.”

“Of course you do. Of course you wouldn’t want to participate in a time-honored mother-daughter tradition by going shopping with me. No, not my daughter.”

“I couldn’t get in contact with you, Mother!” Lois exclaimed. She looked close to tears.

It was then that I smelled the liquor on Ellen Lane’s breath and decided enough was enough. “Mrs. Lane — ”

“That’s ‘Ms. Lane,’” she corrected me. “I’m divorced. Of course Lois wouldn’t talk to her friends about her divorced alcoholic mother.”

“Lois has been under a lot of pressure,” I stated firmly. “She has been planning a wedding to a prominent member of our city. She already told you that she tried to get in touch with you — if you weren’t available, then she had no choice but to make her plans without you.”

Lois’s mother looked at me, apparently reevaluating her formerly dismissive opinion of me. Finally, she exhaled. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry, Lois. Call me at 5:00 — I promise I’ll be home. Then maybe we can go over some wedding ideas.”

As Ellen Lane left, Lois let out a great sigh. “Thanks, Clark. She can…well, she isn’t exactly easy to deal with.”

“It’s no problem.” I smiled at her. I hadn’t liked how much her mother was upsetting her, so I was glad the woman was gone.

“I knew my mother would drive me crazy during this wedding planning, but I was almost relieved when I couldn’t get a hold of her. But she’s ready now, and I guess that’s just how it goes. It’ll just get worse when my father gets here.” She groaned.

I put my hand lightly on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Lois. This is going to be your special day — don’t let other people ruin it for you.” The words were like dirt in my mouth, but I wouldn’t have taken them back. I cared for Lois, and I wanted everything to go well for her…even if it was all going so horribly wrong for me. I wondered if there was a Hallmark card for people like me — ”Sorry the love of your life — who you couldn’t marry anyway because you were born with powers that could accidentally crush her into dust — is marrying a powerful billionaire. Cheer up, chap.” Probably not.

I returned to my desk and began typing something with uncooperative fingers. A few minutes later, I looked up and saw Lois staring off into space. Maybe she was dreaming about her upcoming nuptials — about Lex Luthor and his shining black limo and bottomless pocketbook.

And yet…the expression on her face was that of a troubled woman. But what she had to be troubled about, I had no idea — she was getting married, after all. She should have been happy.

I returned to my work with a frown and a terrible sense that something just wasn’t right.

***

Chapter 26: Dark Shadows Follow Me

I walk along a thin line, darling.

Dark shadows follow me.

Here’s where life’s dream lies disillusioned,

The edge of reality.

— “The Edge of Reality”

***

The night before D-Day, I didn’t go to sleep. The phone rang, and I let it go to the answering machine. My mom left a message, which I immediately deleted. The same thing happened a few more times. Once, it was my father who called. But I didn’t want to talk to either of my parents. They couldn’t make things better.

I paced, brooded, and mumbled, Jericho watching me all the while as if I were crazy. But I just couldn’t calm down. Lois was getting married. My hopes were being dashed. Lois was getting married.

An hour after midnight, the phone rang again. I let the answering machine pick it up, but when I heard Lois’s voice, it struck a chord within me, and I rushed to the phone. “Lois?”

“Clark,” she returned, sounding surprised. “I was wondering where you were at one o’clock in the morning.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled abashedly as I moved to sit on the couch. It was a strange blessing to hear her voice. Maybe I was a masochist, but I was glad she had called — even if the things I had to say to her were things I couldn’t say to her.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed, and I wondered what was on her mind. But I didn’t feel it was my place to ask that, so I just ventured, “So, uh…how are you?”

“Oh, you know…I’m getting married tomorrow. It’s — it’s kind of a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged, clearing my throat. Tell me about it, I thought.

“Lex is a nice man,” she said. The jealous part of me thought it sounded as if she were trying to convince herself, but the more practical part of me realized that she must respect the billionaire if she was going to marry him. She was just reminding me that Lex Luthor was a “nice man” — right? But why would she feel she had to do that?

“He’s done a lot of good for the city,” I conceded. I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. I’d tried to hide my dislike for him — but whether I had succeeded or not, though, I wasn’t sure.

“Yeah.”

I picked absently at a piece of lint on the couch cushion. “Like I said before — you should be with someone who can make you happy.”

She hesitated. “Clark — ”

“Yes, Lois?”

I waited for her to reply. I could sense she wanted to talk — wanted to tell me something — but she didn’t seem to know how to voice it. When she didn’t say anything, I finally did. “Lois, are you okay?”

“Goodnight, Clark. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And before I could say anything, she had hung up.

I rested the phone in my lap and stared at it. And though she couldn’t hear me, I said, “Goodnight, Lois.”

I heaved a sigh and stood to put the phone up. A few minutes later, my hand drifted up to my cheek. There was moisture there.

***

In the morning, I felt sick. Disgusted. Heartbroken. Sorrow-filled. Desperate.

I probably would have vomited, but there was nothing in my stomach. I tried to touch my necklace for reassurance, but nothing could make me feel better. The day was only going to get worse, and every part of me knew it.

I changed into my tux and went to Luthor’s dark tower. There were a lot of people scurrying around making last-minute preparations, like worker ants trying to please their royal overseer. The wedding, of course, was going to be held in the ballroom — where Lois and Luthor had first met. When I saw the proud groom, I mumbled a few congratulatory phrases. Fortunately, Luthor was too focused on his upcoming nuptials to pay me much attention.

My heart pounded, and all-too-soon I was following the business tycoon up to the front, where the archbishop was. Of course Luthor would want to involve one of the upper Catholic clergy. I was just surprised he hadn’t gotten the pope.

When the music began playing, I felt as if there were a roaring noise in my ears. Lucy, in her position as maid of honor, approached. Next came a small ringbearer with a satin pillow bearing the two rings, those heart-breaking symbols of marital harmony. Then a flower girl with feathered angel wings came down the aisle, scattering red petals in her wake. I felt as if every petal was a drop of my blood being spilled by an angel of death.

And then the music faded. The “Wedding March” began — who knew I could hate that song so much? — and everyone stood. Lois appeared on the other side of the room, a vision in white. I stared at her, a dull thud now sounding in my ears. As she walked forward with the older gentleman I suspected was her father, she tried to keep her gaze on her husband-to-be. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that her eyes were somehow continually drawn to me. I was quickly struck by the feeling that Lois didn’t seem as happy as she should have been for someone who was about to marry the love of her life. But as I looked at the trembling of her chin, I realized it must have just been nerves. She was, after all, being showcased in front of the world as the bride of Lex Luthor. It would have been odd if she hadn’t been nervous.

And then she was standing up with Luthor. He looked into her face, and she stared at him a little hesitantly. The people watching sat back down, and the archbishop began, “Dearly beloved.…”

Tapping a pair of fingers against my leg, I tried to pay attention to the clergyman’s words, but I just kept staring at Lois and thinking about how she couldn’t make this great mistake. Intermittently, I tried to tell myself it was better this way, but the thought was constantly being usurped by what I wished could be. It was all I could do to bite down on my tongue and keep from making a fool of myself.

Now that Lois was standing in front of everyone, she seemed determined to keep her gaze fixed on Luthor, who was suddenly saying, “I do.”

My breath caught as I realized Lois was next. The two words that symbolized a blessing to almost everyone in the room were going to be spoken — but they were anathema to me.

The archbishop turned his attention to that beautiful woman who was breaking my heart. “Do you, Lois, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband from this day forward, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…for as long as you both shall live?”

“I — ” she started, causing my chest to constrict. Then she moved her eyes to me. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“Wh-what?” Luthor asked in confusion, looking more discomposed than he probably ever had before in his life. “Lois, darling?”

“I’m sorry, Lex,” she told him softly. And then she was running out of the room, everyone watching her in sheer shock.

My heart was singing.

Feeling a level of happiness I hadn’t realized was possible, I took a few steps forward. My eyes suddenly met Perry’s in the crowd, and he mouthed, “Go after her.”

Obediently, I left the ballroom. I could feel Luthor’s eyes boring into my back, and I heard him whisper viciously, “Kent.” But I didn’t think anything of it. I was too happy.

I reached out with my super hearing and caught the faint sound of sobs coming from Lois’s dressing room. My spirits dipping with the realization of how Lois must feel, I slowed my steps and hesitated in front of the door. But finally I brought myself to knock. “Lois? It’s Clark.”

A few seconds later, she opened the door, and I entered the room. She locked the door and turned toward me. I felt the sudden ache to wipe away all her tears.

“Superman told me I should…marry the man I love,” she said in between her sniffles. “But I don’t love Lex. I was just…attracted to his power, I guess.”

I hesitated only briefly before taking her into my arms. Resting my cheek on her head, I whispered, “It’s okay, Lois.” The feel of her in my arms was so blissful, though it was tainted by guilt — I felt guilty to be enjoying it so much after she had come so close to being another man’s wife.

Words began to spill out of her mouth. “I never slept with him, Clark. I just couldn’t. I guess I knew somehow even while we were dating that I couldn’t marry him. I just — I just wish it hadn’t taken me this long to realize that.” She pulled back and stared at me, mascara smeared under her eyes. “When I was standing up there, I knew I couldn’t marry him. I realized I didn’t love him.”

I wanted to hug her — to wipe away her tears — but I just stood there, motionless. I could feel she had something more to say.

She met my eyes nervously. “I realized I loved someone else. I’m — I’m not sure how he feels about me, but I do know that I can’t marry one man when I’m in love with another.”

I looked away from her. To say I was in utter agony was to put the situation lightly. Of course the farmboy couldn’t measure up to the superhero. Why would a woman who could love an invincible hero in tights ever look twice at a country hick who flinched every time she touched him?

When I returned my gaze to her, I could see she was waiting for a response from me. Softly, I said, “You’ve had a big day. You must be stressed by everything that’s happened. Why don’t I go wait outside the door while you change? Then we can go home and watch a Mel Gibson movie.”

She gave me a fragile smile. “All right.”

I unlocked the door and opened it, stepping outside the room and closing the door. Luthor was waiting there with a manic glint in his eyes.

Disturbed, I asked him, “What do you want? She needs you to leave her alone. She doesn’t love you.”

He smiled a bitter smile. “And who does she love? You?” When I didn’t say anything, he lifted his chin. “So, she does love you.”

“I never said that,” I told him curtly. “Just leave her alone.”

After giving me a chillingly villainous look, he walked away. I shivered and continued to wait for Lois.

***

After Lois finished changing, I took her to her apartment, and then I guided her to the couch, where I sat beside her.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” I asked her gently.

She shook her head. “No — I’m sorry.”

I hesitantly put my arm around her and pulled her close to me.

But she stiffened and resisted me. “Clark, I think you should go home.”

“Lois — ”

“I want to be alone.” She stood up and walked away from me, staring at the slowly moving fish in her large tank. A big yellow one swam by, and she traced its path with a finger.

I got to my feet and moved closer to her. “Lois, I think you need a friend right now. After everything that just happened — ”

“After everything that just happened, I need to be left alone,” she returned emotionlessly. But I could see the reflection of her eyes in the fish tank — and there were tears there.

“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself — ”

“I’ll be fine, Clark,” she said firmly. “I just need some time to think.”

“Lois — ”

“Go!” she bit out.

Swallowing, I whispered, “Okay, Lois. I’ll — I’ll see you tomorrow.”

But she didn’t respond, though I waited for a few seconds. Finally, I sighed and slipped out the door. I hated to leave her, but I had no choice. “Goodbye, Lois,” I whispered.

I returned home feeling both dejected and elated. I had been so happy that she wasn’t going to marry Lex Luthor — but now I was realizing just how stressful this had been for her. Still, she’d given me explicit directions to go away. I just needed to give her a little time and space. There would be another opportunity to talk to her.

“Hey,” I greeted Krypto quietly, stooping to scratch his head on my way to the answer machine. The light was blinking once, and I pressed the PLAY button.

“Clark, this is your mother. Call me as soon as you can.”

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the phone and dialed my parents’ number. Before long, I was talking to them both.

“Clark, we’ve been so worried about you,” Mom told me. “We saw on the news that Lois didn’t marry Lex Luthor. What happened?”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Well — she realized she didn’t love him. She…turned him down at the altar.”

“Clark, that’s wonderful!” Mom exclaimed. “That means you can — ”

“No,” I said resolutely, cutting her off. “I’ve told you before. I can’t be in a relationship with Lois.”

“Son — ” Dad tried.

“Please. Let’s not get into this again. I — I feel terrible for Lois, but…there’s this small part of me that’s relieved. I didn’t think Lois and Luthor were meant for each other.”

“You’re right, Clark. Lois was meant for someone else.” Left unmentioned by Mom was the fact that she thought Lois was meant to be with me, but I didn’t bother arguing with her — there was a part of me that wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t let myself.

Krypto came up to me with his tail waving about in the air and his leash in his mouth. I sighed. “I think Jericho wants to go on a walk. I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“All right, Clark. We love you.”

“I love you both, too.”

Hanging up the phone, I told the expectant Krypto. “I’ll take you on a walk, but I have to dye you first.”

I changed into some jogging clothes and then dyed Krypto, “transforming” him into Jericho. I frowned as I realized Jericho’s collar wasn’t where I had last left it. Looking around, I found chewed-up pieces of it. Sighing, I held it up to Jericho’s face. “See this, Jericho? This was bad.”

He whimpered and lowered his ears, and I took pity on him and patted his head. “All right. I guess we’ll just have to use your Krypto collar. But don’t do it again.”

Jericho barked happily. Pulling my locket out from under my shirt, I clutched it gently before letting it drop to rest against my chest. It had been a gift from Lois, and I wanted that connection. I wouldn’t be hiding it away that day.

I clipped the leash to the Krypto collar, and I went down to the street with Jericho. I felt bad for the joy that had swept over me, but I just hadn’t wanted Lois to marry Luthor. I didn’t think he could make her happy.

Still, it was hard to believe that the reason she had rejected Luthor was love for Superman. Clark Kent was invisible, the friend whose shoulder could be occasionally cried on. But Superman was held up on a pedestal, the “Greek god” (as she’d called him once) to be pined after. The fact that I was both people didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel worse.

I couldn’t ever tell Lois that I was Superman. And it was probably easier that she love Superman rather than Clark — it would be much more awkward for me to reject her love as Clark than as Superman — but it still stung. It made me feel…well, not worthless, but certainly not valued.

Mired in such thoughts, I almost didn’t notice when it started to rain. I nearly took Jericho back to my apartment, but he seemed to be enjoying the rain so much that I delayed our return. When he saw fit to jump into a mud puddle, however, I quickly changed my mind.

When we got to my apartment building, I unlocked the door and walked inside with Jericho. I threw my keys on the table and took a few steps forward, only to freeze when I realized I wasn’t alone. A whole host of guns were pointed at me.

Jericho growled, readying himself to attack, and I said sharply, “Nyet!” But though the dog stood down, he continued to growl in warning.

One of the gunmen pointed his gun at Jericho, aiming for his chest.

“Leave him alone,” a blond man said. “He’s just a dog.”

“He’d just as soon bite you as lick you,” the first man said. “You’re nothing but a softie.”

“The Boss didn’t tell us to off anyone, so can it.”

“I’ll can it when I want to,” growled the first man. “You can’t gimme orders.”

“Waste one of those bullets in that gun, and the Boss will have your hide,” the blond man proclaimed. “Those bullets are just for if Superman shows up.”

My breath caught in my throat. More trigger-happy men with meteor rock bullets? I felt panic begin to rise. Before, I’d been fortunate enough that they had left me alone after shooting me — but that didn’t seem like it would be the case this time. And could a meteor rock bullet hurt the thick-skinned dog?

The two men continued to argue, and — feeling fearful — I wrote a note at super speed that said “Clark Kent has been kidnapped by the ‘Boss’(?) — Call police and follow dog” and folded it and slipped it under Jericho’s collar.

A third man finally stopped the two others from arguing, and he looked at me. “Go outside, Kent. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

I held my hands up by my head, but as I passed by Jericho, I pretended to trip and fell to my knees. I thought briefly of Perry, who had already saved me once — but I didn’t think Jericho knew him by name. I believed he knew Lois by name, but I couldn’t put her in danger. I would die a thousand deaths before I willingly did that. And so that left only one hope — and a slim one at that.

I told the dog in a low voice, “Retrieve firemen.”

He tilted his head at me, but I wasn’t sure if he was quizzical or contemplative, and there was no time to try a different plan of action.

Someone kicked me. “Get up.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled insincerely as I rose. They pushed me again, and I continued to move forward.

I didn’t know if Jericho actually knew what I meant when I said “firemen” — I had never tried to teach him the term. But it was possible he had made the connection between the word and the people anyway, as I did use the term a lot around him.

It wasn’t a great chance, but it was all I had.

***

Chapter 27: They’ll Put You Away in a Cell

Well, they’ll put you away in a cell.

They’ll put you where the cold wind blows.

— “Frankie and Johnny”

***

They put me in an unmarked van and blindfolded me. But I was able to see through my blindfold with my x-ray vision, and I realized quickly they were taking me to Lex Towers. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it couldn’t be good.

They guided me inside the building and into a wine cellar, where they tied me to a chair. Then they removed my blindfold and left.

But I wasn’t alone. The government man who had tried to kill me on the rooftop was there, sitting in a chair and holding a gun in his lap. Standing beside him — cool and collected, unlike the way he had been earlier — was Lex Luthor.

My anger and surprise were warring with each other, and I had far more questions than I had answers, but I remained quiet, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of me speaking first.

I wasn’t surprised when Luthor was the one who broke the silence. “I am sorry it must come to this, Mr. Kent, but Lex Luthor will not be made a fool of. I know the reason Lois left me standing at the altar was her love for you, a pitiful nobody from a backwater town in Kansas.”

I glared at him. He was obviously delusional. Lois wasn’t in love with me. Superman, maybe, but not Clark Kent. And Luthor had no way of knowing that I was Superman.

“Let me go, Luthor,” I gritted. I resisted the urge to strain against my restraints, lest I accidentally break them at an inopportune moment. I was going to have to tread carefully if I intended to protect my identity.

“I’m sorry, Kent,” the government man said with a sinister smile, “but we’re counting on Superman coming to save you.”

“What?” I asked with a frown. What did he mean?

Luthor clasped his hands together, looking pleased to have the upper hand. “You see, Mr. Kent, Jason Trask and I made a deal. In exchange for knowledge of Superman’s weakness, I agreed to help kill the superhero. You see, everyone has an Achilles heel — even Superman.”

“Why are you doing this?” I gritted. “Why are you bringing Superman into this?” I wanted to buy some time to think. I didn’t know what I was going to do. If I revealed my secret to them, no good could come from it. But I certainly didn’t want to die.

“Well, yes, it might be easier, perhaps, to simply kill you,” Luthor conceded. “But you did, after all, save my life — so I won’t kill you. By the same token, you also destroyed my life, so I can’t let you go.” He gave a menacing smile. “You see how I am in a bit of a bind. But after considering my difficult situation, I realized that the best form of payback would be to show you how it feels to be torn from someone you care about.”

I wasn’t sure whether that meant he was going to kill Lois or keep me as a permanent prisoner, but I didn’t want to consider either possibility in any depth. The gun Trask was holding had to have meteor rock bullets in it, which couldn’t bode well no matter what Luthor meant. My mind racing, I asked, “How is Superman going to know where to find me?”

The billionaire waved a hand in the air. “I’ve already thought of that. A message has been left on Lois Lane’s answering machine for her to give to Superman.”

My brow furrowed. The message had been left on her machine? Why wasn’t she at home?

“He is to fly to the top of a certain building to find a letter,” Luthor continued. “This letter will tell him where you are. And then, we will spring our trap.” He inclined his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go do a few things to help avert this disaster you have caused.”

I watched Luthor go up the stairs. Then I turned my eyes to Trask, who was taking a few steps toward me with a disgusted look on his face. He still held the gun in one hand, obviously ready to shoot immediately should Superman arrive.

“I thought you were enjoying a vacation behind bars,” I told him with a hint of a growl in my voice.

He smiled. “Let’s just say I have friends in high places. I got out without too much trouble — it just took me a little time.” He grimaced and shook his head. “People like you disgust me. Has the alien brainwashed you, or are you willingly a traitor to your country and homeworld?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snarled at him.

His eyes fell on my locket. “What’s this? Do you have a picture of the alien inside?”

I swallowed. Had I been standing, I would have backed away. But I was tied to a chair, and I couldn’t keep him from touching the gift Lois had given to me.

With a strange sort of eagerness, he opened the locket, only to see a picture of my grandmother instead of Superman. He sneered at me. “So, you have a thing for old ladies? You really are sick.” Not shutting the locket, he let it drop onto my chest.

“That’s my grandmother,” I gritted. The pain had of course started the moment he opened the locket, and I was trying with all my might to look like I was angry rather than hurting.

He walked away from me and sat in his chair, where he glared across at me and watched me like a hawk. Little did he realize that there was basically no chance I was going to be freed — by myself or by Superman — from my situation.

I had been exposed to the meteor rock often enough — or perhaps the shard was small enough — that I was able to close my eyes and keep myself from broadcasting my pain through my expression, though I doubted I achieved anything resembling calmness. But pretending the open locket didn’t affect me wasn’t enough to prevent a sweat from eventually breaking out on my forehead.

When Trask noticed my perspiration, he gave a grim chuckle, and I opened my eyes. “I’d be nervous, too, if I was an alien lover like you. But before long, you’ll meet a traitor’s end.” His gaze met mine, and I realized he intended to kill me regardless of Luthor’s plans. Either the man didn’t realize how powerful a figure Luthor was in the city, or he was insane. I was frankly leaning toward the latter.

The pain continued to spread, and I was finding it harder to breathe by the second. Fighting against despair, I asked Trask, “What will happen if Superman never comes?”

“You don’t want to find out,” he replied in a low voice. “Just know that most military men like myself have no problems with the ethics of torture.”

I grimaced. It was starting to occur to me that I was going to die soon. As the time ticked by, so fled my grip on life. I didn’t know if Jericho really knew what I had meant by “firemen.” That had been a gamble.

My thoughts turned to Lois. While I had called Perry to help remove the meteor rock bullet after my first contact with Trask, I had wanted so much to ask Lois to help me instead. She was such an important part of my life.…

I had known I was going to basically lose her when she married Luthor. A powerful man like him wouldn’t want his wife to have a dangerous and busy career with a newspaper. There was no question in my mind that things would have changed between us if she had gotten married. I had understood that on a subconscious level, and it had just increased my aversion to her marriage. There would be no more evenings with greasy foods and bad movies or all-night stakeouts playing Spades and Old Maid. But I had been willing to sacrifice what we had because I had thought that was what she wanted. And because she would have been put into harm’s way if I had pursued a relationship with her.

And now, everything I had done was coming to nothing. I was dying — and I would probably never see Lois again.

I flung thoughts around in my head like wet noodles at a wall, hoping one would stick. Finally, I thought of something.

I groaned loud enough for Trask to hear, but not so loud that he got suspicious. His eyes narrowed immediately, and he stood up. “What is it? Is the alien invading your mind?”

My breathing was already labored, and I simply started to exaggerate it more. “My locket’s new,” I mumbled, twisting my head a little. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction to it. Could you…could you take it off?”

“I could care less about your comfort,” he informed me with contempt as he returned to his chair.

Thinking on my feet (figuratively), I pointed out, “Luthor won’t be happy if you let me die — and my dead body won’t bring Superman to your doorstep. You had better watch out — Luthor isn’t someone you want to make angry.” I closed my eyes in real pain, inhaling deeply but carefully.

“Fine,” he growled. With obvious reluctance, he removed the necklace and threw it on the floor by a wine cask.

I was instantly able to breathe better. I didn’t try to struggle out of my bonds because I knew I would need to gather what little strength I could. It was too bad we were in a cellar rather than Luthor’s penthouse — otherwise, I might have been able to get a little exposure to the sun if it had peeked out from behind a cloud. As I was casting about for new ideas, I remembered my homing beacon watch.

Had enough time passed for Jericho to find the firemen? What if he hadn’t found them and was just sitting in my apartment? If I activated the homing beacon and Jericho came alone and burst through a wall, then his connection to Krypto would be obvious. But if Jericho came with the police, then there was a small chance that Jericho wouldn’t need to show off his powers.

And if Jericho did give evidence of his abilities, then Trask might put two and two together and realize I was Superman. If that happened, then any chance I would have at a life as Clark Kent would be gone. Was it better to wait for a miracle on the off chance that I would protect my secret identity as Clark Kent? Or would it be better to just throw away that chance so the world could have a Superman?

The question thundered through my head. Now that I had begun helping people instead of inhibiting my powers, I couldn’t give it up. I couldn’t let accidents like that which had occurred with the out-of-control bus continue to happen. Not if I could stop it.

And so, with a little creative maneuvering, I pressed the button on my watch. Hopefully, I had given Jericho enough time.

When Luthor finally returned to the cellar, he gave me a glance and then looked at Trask. “Has there been any trouble with our guest?”

“No,” grunted Trask, cradling his gun.

Luthor turned to me, his eyes glinting like those of a snake about to strike. “The American journalist Helen Rowland once said, ‘Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common sense.’ Perhaps I was a fool to fall in love with Lois Lane — but she became my inspiration. Of course, then you decided to have Lois Lane for yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Lois isn’t an object — she’s a person. I didn’t take her from you — she just doesn’t love you.” I should have held back my next words — I couldn’t determine what kind of person Luthor was based simply on what could be the actions of a love-crazy man — but I was growing more frustrated by the second. “How could she ever love a monster like you?”

When he backhanded me, I wasn’t surprised at the action so much as the pain that spread through my jaw. The nauseating taste of blood flooded my mouth, and I spit some of the red liquid out to the floor at Luthor’s feet.

He gave me a look of disgust. “Really, Kent, I would have expected more from you.”

“Funny,” I muttered. “I could have said the same about you.”

Luthor gave me a look of bitter amusement before turning to Trask. “Now, when Superman gets here, you need to kill him immediately.”

Trask shook his head. “No. I need to ask the alien a few questions before he dies. As the advance guard, he may know some important information about those to come. His information is too valuable for us to kill him before a proper interrogation.”

“He is too dangerous to leave alive. If he escapes with knowledge of my complicity with you — ”

“Are you afraid your public image will be tarnished?” Trask scoffed. “Afraid that the world will finally learn Lex Luthor is in fact the B — ”

A shot rang out, and a hole appeared in Trask’s chest. He fell to the floor, his gun clattering away from him.

The wealthy business tycoon put his gun back in his coat pocket smugly as I stared at him in shock. Then he gave me a tight smile. “Trask, as you have seen, was insane and dangerous. His death was inevitable.” At my skeptical look, he conceded, “I, too, am dangerous — that is not to be contested. Certainly, there is a fine line between genius and insanity, as Oscar Levant noted. But all my moves are carefully made. For men such as myself, the world is a giant chess board. One simply needs to know what pieces to move and when.”

He was bending over to pick up Trask’s gun when the wall exploded.

At least, it seemed to explode. In actuality, it was just Jericho bursting through the wall with his extra-canine strength. Ordinarily, an observant man such as Lex Luthor probably would have noticed that the super-powered dog had black ears instead of white ones, but I thought he was so surprised by what came in after Jericho (as was I) that he didn’t pay the dog much attention. Of course, the dog was so covered in dirt and dust that he was almost unrecognizable.

In the midst of the broken-down wall — against all my expectations — was Lois. She had a grim look on her face as her eyes met Luthor’s. “Lex,” she said in bitterness.

“Lois,” he returned softly, brought close to speechlessness.

I gaped at Lois. What was she doing here?

Jericho ran to me and pawed my leg. I glanced at Luthor, whose attention was wholly focused on Lois. Then, with a little maneuvering and quiet encouragement, I managed to enlist the help of my canine companion’s teeth in releasing me from my bonds. I sat there for a moment, assessing the situation. I looked from Luthor to the meteor rock gun he had failed to pick up and then back again. With Luthor being so stunned by Lois’s appearance, I might have the advantage if I went for the weapon. I only hoped I would be quick enough. But my heart was thudding in my chest. One wrong move, and Lois could die. I had to get to that gun in time.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lois asked in a voice filled with disappointment and disgust.

“I might ask you the same,” Luthor replied wryly. “I dreamed about you bursting into my private sanctuary — but not quite like this.”

“Yeah, well, I dreamed about marrying a man who wasn’t an utter scumbag,” Lois retorted.

I dove for the gun.

Luthor swirled to face me, but I was jumping up with the weapon and pointing it at his chest. I stepped closer to him and told him in a low voice, “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

His eyes stared at me with the sort of confidence that shouldn’t have existed within a man in such a situation, and when he thrust his hand into his coat pocket to pull out a gun, he found my hand there fighting him for dominance of his weapon. I whipped it out and held both guns in front of his head. “Don’t move,” I growled.

Though Luthor kept his eyes on me, he began speaking to Lois. “I could have given you a life of luxury, Lois. And what can Kent give you? He is a man of no ambition or vision, more fit for manual labor than the world of reporting.”

Lois stabbed a finger into his chest, causing him to take a step backward. “Listen, Lex. Clark Kent has more integrity in his pinky than you do in your entire body.” I looked at her, surprised to hear her defend me so vehemently.

“Lois,” I said a second later, my voice lined with steel, “go call the police. Luthor isn’t worth wasting your breath on.”

She stared at the billionaire before finally nodding and turning away. She finally noticed Trask’s body on the floor and let out a small gasp. Recovering quickly, she knelt and picked up my locket, which she closed. Slipping the necklace into her pocket, she left the cellar through the open wall.

Luthor stared at me, obviously trying to figure out an exit strategy.

“I should have left you bleeding to death in that alley,” I told him, the tension that filled my body making my voice hard and cold. “But go ahead and try something — it’ll be easy enough to remedy that mistake.” In truth, I wouldn’t take back what I had done, and I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to kill Luthor even if he tried to escape, but he didn’t know that.

And so, we remained in a glaring contest until Lois returned. “Henderson’s on his way,” she said sweetly. As an afterthought, she knelt on the floor to grab the bonds that had held me and then tied Luthor’s hands behind his back.

“You will regret this,” he said in a dangerous tone. Perhaps his words were directed at both Lois and me, but it was my eyes he was meeting.

“I don’t think so,” I returned. Gesturing with the gun, I told him, “Sit on that chair while we wait.”

***

When the normally dour Henderson arrived, he was, as Aunt Opal was fond of saying, pleased as a peach, particularly since both Lois and I were willing to testify against Luthor. As the criminal was led away, Henderson told Lois and me in a low voice, “We’ve been gathering evidence against the Boss for a while. I’ve suspected it was Luthor, and what you’ve told me should be another nail in the coffin of his life as a free man.”

Lois, always one to take crazy situations in stride, had listened intently when I had told Henderson what had happened. I had left out details about the meteor rock, of course, but I told him what I thought was most important. Lois and I gave our statements, and Henderson finally dismissed us.

“If you happen to gather any other evidence against Luthor, let me know,” the detective said.

“Thanks, Henderson,” I told him with a smile.

We started to leave, only to pause when Henderson called to us. “By the way, how did you bust through that wall, Lois?”

She gestured toward Jericho. Fortunately, he was so covered in dust and dirt that his black ears and tail weren’t especially noticeable. “I ran into Krypto and enlisted his help.”

“You just ran into him,” the detective said flatly.

“Yep.” She grinned. “If you don’t know where Superman is, well, Superman’s dog is the next best thing.”

“Uh huh.” He still sounded skeptical, and my heart started to race, but evidently he didn’t intend to pursue it any more. “You two head on home. I don’t want to hear about you getting into any more trouble for a while.”

“We’ll see,” Lois replied noncommittally, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

When Lois, Jericho, and I were finally outside, however, her whole demeanor changed. Gone was the woman who loved to exchange verbal barbs with Inspector Henderson. In her place was someone quiet and pensive.

I had a hundred questions for her, but I wasn’t about to ask them until she gave me a clue about what all she knew or suspected. And so, as we hailed a cab, I just told her, “I’d like to go with you to make sure you get home okay,” and she didn’t argue like she normally would. She just gave a sharp nod and remained lost in her thoughts. The taxi driver seemed inclined to argue about having a dog as dirty as Jericho inside his vehicle, but one look from Lois caused him to bite back whatever he was going to say.

We arrived at her apartment building, and Jericho and I walked her up.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

Part of me wanted to — I knew we needed to talk, as it was either that or explode — but another part of me said I should run as far away as I could and never return. However, I listened to the first part and told her, “Sure.”

When Lois opened the door, Jericho rushed in like he owned the place.

“Stay off the furniture,” I warned him, and he simply walked around sniffing at corners and plants.

Lois and I sat on the couch, and she finally broke the silence. “I’m assuming your dog and Superman’s are the same?”

The urge to deny hit me, but Lois wasn’t stupid, and if I denied this, then I would basically be putting an end to our friendship. “Yes,” I admitted. “I was…keeping him for Superman.”

“And the black ears and tail?”

I winced. “Dye.”

“He must have a great sense of smell if he was able to track you all the way to Luthor’s.”

“Yeah. He does.” It wasn’t a complete lie — Jericho did have a great sense of smell, even if that hadn’t been how he had found me. But I couldn’t admit the existence of the homing beacon — if I did, she would wonder why I was wearing the watch that activated the beacon, and there would be no hiding the Superman connection then.

“Well, I guess we should go ahead and write up the story.” She stood and moved toward her laptop.

“You aren’t going to out my dog, are you?” The words hadn’t come out exactly as I had wanted to, but my tone must have been pitiful, as Lois’s face softened slightly before becoming a blank mask.

“No. I won’t. But I’m doing it more for Superman than for you. You should have trusted me.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just said, “I’m sorry.” I stared at her for a few seconds, and she looked sadly back at me. “Why were you with…Krypto?”

She looked down at her hands. “I was…coming to talk to you. I knocked on your door and heard him whimpering anxiously. So, I picked the lock, and I found the note you left in his collar.”

“You should have called the police, Lois. That was dangerous.”

“And you should have told me about Krypto,” she returned. “I wish you had trusted me.”

She sounded so hurt that it hurt me. I wanted to take her in my arms — once a place I had kept off limits to everyone — and apologize for all the pain she was going through. But I couldn’t explain my reasons for keeping Jericho’s identity as Krypto a secret, so I asked her, “What were you coming to talk to me about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “We should work on the story.”

“Okay.” I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to press her. It sounded as if she had wanted to tell me something important — but what? Had she just wanted to come confess her love for Superman? Had she wanted to talk to me about Luthor? I wasn’t sure. And she didn’t seem to want to give me the answers.

Though there was still a great distance between us, we managed to get the story written up and emailed to Perry.

“Tomorrow, we should work on helping Henderson gather evidence against Lex,” Lois noted in a no-nonsense tone. The sadness that had been afflicting her earlier might have appeared to be gone to an untrained eye — but I could still see it hovering beneath the surface.

“Lois — are you okay?” I asked gently. I didn’t think she needed to come in the next day, but I wasn’t about to go into that.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I just almost married a psychopath, but I’m fine. Everything’s all fine here. All fine.” And then she was sobbing and I was gathering her into my arms.

I rested my cheek against her soft hair as she cried into my chest. “How could I have such t-terrible judgment? I pride myself in my ability to know people — to scent out their s-secrets. How could I have missed something this big?”

It was all I could do to keep myself from stiffening. If she was reacting like this right now, how would she react if she found out I was Superman?

Well, that was simple enough to remedy. She could never know. The connection between Jericho and Krypto was as close as I could let her come. No matter how much I wanted to bare my soul to her, I never could.

When she was finally finished with her release, she pulled away from me. “Go home, Clark. I’ll be fine.”

Not understanding why she was suddenly pushing me away, I said, “Lois — ”

“Really, Clark. Go.”

I stared at her for a few seconds, wanting to brush away those last few tears. But after looking at the stubborn jut of her chin, I moved toward the door and called out in a low voice, “Come on, Jericho.”

The dog got up from where he was curled up on the floor and stretched, his tongue curling upward in a yawn. Obediently, he padded over to my side.

I opened the door, only to pause when I heard Lois say, “Oh — your locket.”

I turned toward her. She held out the necklace in her palm, and I took it from her and put it around my neck. I stared into her dark brown eyes, making wishes I could never let come true, and then I left. After I shut the door, I could hear her break down into sobs once again.

***

Chapter 28: A World of Our Own

Nothing can change it — the magic’s begun.

When we’re together, our hearts become one.

I find a happiness I’ve never known

When we’re in a world of our own.

— “A World of Our Own”

***

The next day, Lois came in to work as if nothing had happened.

I was surprised to see her — after all, she wasn’t expected to be at work since she had taken vacation time for her honeymoon. But when I began to remind her of this by saying, “Lois, you don’t have to be here, you know,” she gave me a look so piercing I had eaten the rest of my words. I didn’t try to get her to go home after that.

She attacked the task in front of us — gathering proof of Lex Luthor’s wrongdoings — with that single-mindedness which appeared to be her way of coping with everything that had happened to her. I guessed it was only natural for a workaholic to turn to work whenever all the best-laid plans were abruptly flushed down the drain. Maybe it was cathartic for her. But it seemed to me as if only time could really heal Lois’s wounds. Still, maybe it was best that she not just sit at home and mope.

Finding evidence of the jailed billionaire’s crimes was a lot like looking for a needle in a haystack, but we were determined. I wanted to start with an investigation of Sallya Technologies, figuring there just had to be a connection there somewhere, but when Lois argued the trail was too cold, I reluctantly agreed. Still, I wanted to return to the issue after we were successful in finding something significant.

We hadn’t been working for long before Perry called out, “Lois — can I see you in my office?”

She sighed and dropped what she was doing. As she walked away reluctantly, she gave me a backwards glance, and then I pulled my eyes from her. They needed to have a private conversation, and I needed to refrain from eavesdropping.

Frowning in thought, I tapped a pencil against my desk. I still couldn’t believe Luthor had kidnapped me. It was so surreal.

I had thought the government man — Trask — was safely tucked away in a jail cell, but his return hadn’t been a complete surprise. Perhaps I should have even expected it due to his fanaticism. But Lex Luthor …

Well, I certainly hadn’t expected that a man whose life I had saved would throw my world in an upheaval because of a misguided belief that the woman who almost married him was in love with me. It sounded more like a soap opera than reality.

Perhaps Luthor hadn’t been too far off the mark, though. Lois did seem to have feelings for me — only they were feelings for the part of me that crusaded about in a cape. Again, it sounded more like something that would be on television than something that would actually happen. But I guessed my life was just like that.

I was caught up in such musings when Lois finally returned to her desk. She appeared to be really glum, and my heart went out to her. I hated the strain she was under, and I wished I could wipe it all away. My animosity toward Luthor deepened, a part of me mourning that he hadn’t been the man she had hoped. Yet I also rejoiced…because the thought of Lois being with him drove spurs into my heart.

But I knew that wasn’t exactly logical — because I couldn’t be the man Lois hoped for either.

Before I could think of the right words to string together, Cat approached and told her, “Lois, I’m so sorry about what happened.”

When Lois finally looked up from her desk, her expression was one of suspicion. “All right. Let’s have it. Are you going to make a quip about his money? Maybe say something about how Lois, the poor old maid, couldn’t hold on to a man if she had him tied to her bedpost?”

Cat frowned, looking puzzled at the other female reporter’s reaction. “No. I meant it, Lois. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

“Oh.” Lois’s brow furrowed. She didn’t seem to know what else to say. This wasn’t a side of Cat which Lois saw very often, so I couldn’t blame her.

“Do you…do you really think that little of me?” Cat asked quietly. She looked hurt.

“Cat — ” Lois said, exhaling. “I’m sorry. It’s just been difficult.”

The sincerity of Lois’s voice improved Cat’s countenance, and Cat said good-naturedly, “Well, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m sure Clark won’t mind volunteering his.”

As the gossip columnist sashayed away, Lois and I gaped at her.

Lois recovered first. “Just when I think I have her figured out, she throws me a curve ball.”

I chuckled and told her, “She’s deeper than you think, Lois.” I was glad Lois hadn’t commented on the actual content of Cat’s comment — if Lois knew how much I, Clark Kent, cared about her, then I could lose her as a partner. And I couldn’t handle that — I had already almost lost her as a partner once.

“I’m beginning to realize that,” Lois said softly.

I was about to say something else when the Editor-in-Chief bellowed for me to come to his office. When I had first come to the Planet, that sound would have made me tremble. Now, however, it brought a smile to my face. Still, I was wary about what he had to say to me.

“Sorry — gotta go,” I told Lois as I rose to my feet. “The bullhorn’s calling me.”

I suppressed a sigh as I realized the smile she gave me in response didn’t quite reach her eyes. As hard as she was trying to forget about Luthor, it was obvious she hadn’t been able to yet. Again, it was going to take time.

I went to Perry’s office and stood in the doorway. “Yes, Chief?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“Hi, son. Please — come in and sit down.” He seemed pensive and solemn. This couldn’t bode well.

Reluctantly, I obeyed his instructions. In silence, I waited for him to talk, but I didn’t have to wait long.

“That was a great story you and Lois sent in,” he noted, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

“Thanks, Chief,” I returned simply, though I knew I wasn’t in there for him to talk to me about the story.

Sure enough, his next sentence revealed his real agenda. “Speaking of Lois — how is she doing? This, uh…this can’t be easy for her.”

“I’m a bit worried about her,” I admitted. “But I guess she’s handling things as well as she can.” I gave a helpless shrug. “Throwing herself into her work seems to be her defense mechanism.”

A half-smile crossed his lips. “That’s our Lois.” He stared at me for a few seconds until I directly met his eyes. “Now, Clark — do you think you could…help me keep an eye on her?”

I nodded. “I’m already on that, Chief.” I rose from my chair, preparing to leave.

His commanding voice arrested me in my tracks. “Now, hold on, son. I’m not done with you yet.”

I sank back into the seat. “Yes, Chief.”

He cleared his throat. “So — how are you doing, Clark?”

“Sir?” I shifted in my chair, avoiding his eyes. That was even more of a loaded question than he realized.

“Don’t play dumb with me, son,” he said, pointing a pair of fingers at me. “Lois is — well, she’s back on the market, so to speak. Have you two, uh…had a talk?”

A sense of bitterness welled up within me as my thoughts flicked to Lois’s near-admission of love for Superman. Perry had obviously misread the situation. There would be no such “talk” between Lois and me.

I kept my face expressionless as I stood. “I care for Lois very much, and I want her to be with someone who can make her happy and keep her safe. When she does finally marry someone, I will wish her the best.”

His brow furrowed, and he seemed frustrated. “Clark, you know that’s not what I — ”

“It’s okay, Chief — some people are just meant to be alone,” I told him softly. And then I left his office, closing the door behind me. I could feel those wise newshound eyes of his staring into my back.

***

Around noon, Lois and I took a break from our investigation for lunch. She attempted to dart off on her own, but I was right on her heels, sticking a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. She glared at me, but I stepped inside.

“Do I make that bad of a lunch partner?” I asked with a raised brow, trying to ease this strange tension that had been building between us. I wasn’t sure what it was, but Lois appeared to be getting more uncomfortable with me by the hour.

“Well, I wouldn’t pay you for your lunch conversation,” she muttered.

A few minutes later, we stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the Daily Planet.

“Lois, are you okay?” I asked her as we began to cross the street.

“Ugh!” she exclaimed in frustration. “Would people stop asking me that?” She walked forward quickly in annoyance. And then she paused, wide-eyed, as a car came barreling toward her.

Without a second’s thought, I made a running leap and pushed her onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. My heart pounded with adrenaline, and I remained where I was — on top of her — for longer than I should have. I was so thankful she was alive that all I could think was: Lois almost died.

The fear that welled up inside me was so strong it was almost tangible. I couldn’t believe I had almost lost her.

“The least you could have done was buy me dinner and a movie before jumping on top of me,” Lois quipped as she pushed at me to get off her.

Turning bright red, I got to my feet and offered my hand to her, but she ignored it and rose on her own. “I’m — ah — I’m sorry, Lois,” I told her awkwardly.

“Relax,” she grumbled. She tilted her head and looked at me before glancing at the road. The car was long gone by now — as was its reckless driver. “Boy, you were fast.”

“Heh, yeah,” I agreed uneasily. I followed her as she continued on her way. I felt quite thankful she didn’t say anything else about what had just happened. If she found out her best friend was Superman on top of all this mess, I wasn’t sure how she would act.

But I would reveal my secret to her in a heartbeat if it meant it would save her life.

***

I went home that night in utter exhaustion. Lois and I had been running around most of the afternoon. Luthor had done a pretty good job of covering his trail, and despite his imprisonment, he was still seen as such a powerful figure that even reliable snitches like Bobby Bigmouth were reluctant to put their necks on the line. I was just glad Henderson had enough evidence that Luthor wasn’t being let out on bail.

It wasn’t just the work in collecting evidence that was draining me. I couldn’t get the image of that car almost hitting Lois out of my mind. What if I hadn’t been there? Even though I was Superman, I couldn’t be everywhere to protect her. The thought of my fallibility was really pulling at me. In just a few seconds, her life could have been snuffed out. My life, I realized uneasily, would have turned to utter darkness. It was her light that had been brightening my spirits since I returned to Metropolis.

When I opened the door to my apartment, I expected to be alone. Krypto was out with firefighters visiting burn victims in a hospital — there had been a spate of arsons for a few days before the culprits were caught, and we hadn’t been able to get to everyone in time to keep people from getting hurt. It seemed like everywhere I turned I was reminded that I couldn’t be two places at once. I was so distracted by these thoughts that I didn’t immediately notice there was someone sitting on my couch.

“You,” I said at last in surprise.

She lifted her eyes — which had been staring down at her hands — and gave me a small smile. “I know you didn’t want to see me again, but I had something to tell you.”

“Constance,” I said with a sigh. “How did you get in?” The past, it seemed, was something I could never escape, no matter how fast I could run. The thought was depressing.

She shook her head. “Learning to hypnotize people was hard; getting into your apartment wasn’t.”

I crossed my arms. “Why are you here?”

She laced her fingers together soberly. “I wanted you to know — Lex Luthor is dead.”

“What?” I gaped. He was dead?

“I read about what he did to you in the morning paper.” She looked back down at her hands. “Clark, the man was evil. He deserved death.”

My temper began to rise. “Did you kill him?” I demanded. Even if the man had been a criminal mastermind, he did not deserve death.

She averted her eyes, uncomfortable with the strength of my reaction. “Hypnosis…might have led to Luthor’s death.”

I walked toward her. I should have been fighting against my anger, but knowing she had killed a man because of me made me feel so guilty and frustrated that all my emotions needed an outlet. “Constance, you can’t just kill people!” I exclaimed, my right fist clenching. “What did you do?”

Constance almost pulled something out of her pocket — probably her pocket watch — but then thought better of it. “I…hypnotized a guard,” she admitted. “I gave Luthor a death worthy of a philosopher, though he didn’t deserve that much.”

“What do you mean?” I asked warily.

“The guard poisoned him with hemlock. Well — water hemlock. It’s more powerful.”

I realized then what she had meant — Socrates had died from hemlock poisoning. My thoughts swirling, I grabbed on to this. “I thought hemlock tasted bitter.”

“Even Lex Luthor will eat something bitter at gunpoint.”

I shook my head in disgust. “Constance, how could you do this?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t you want him to die?”

Aggravated, I turned from her. But I couldn’t escape her question. In my heart of hearts, I had feared Luthor would escape from prison and attempt to do something. But I had feared less for myself and more for Lois. Even Superman couldn’t be multiple places at once…and if Luthor had come to get Lois when I was away saving someone else, what would have happened? Would I have ever been able to save her? What if he had taken her away to an underground bunker in a private island? Had I wanted him to die?

No. No, I hadn’t. I wished death on no one.

Shaking my head, I told the magician, “You aren’t the Grim Reaper, Constance. You can’t wield death as you like. If you’ve murdered Lex Luthor, then you need to turn yourself in.”

She stared at me with an emotionless expression. “If — if that is what you want, Clark, I’ll do it.”

I bit my lip but stood firm. “It is what I want.” I grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Make the call.”

She held the phone against her chest like it was a weapon that she was about to use to take away her life — which, in a way, it was. “I will,” she said acceptingly. “But first, I want to tell you about what happened in Africa.”

My mood darkened further, and I felt a pang of regret for that part of my past. “Constance — ”

“In Africa,” she began with flashing eyes, “I decided that the hoodoo practitioner needed to die. What I said about her killing foreign students was a lie. But I was frightened that she might take away my love for you — love was a knowledge I hadn’t wanted or expected to gain, but once I had, I realized the power of that emotion. And when you suggested that we find the hoodoo practitioner and try to erase the love potion’s effects, I panicked. I hypnotized you first, intending to have you kill her. But then I realized that you — with all your innate goodness — would be destroyed if you had to do something like that. And I thought you might even be able to fight against the hypnosis. So I made you wait for me in my rental car, and I found the hoodoo practitioner again and hypnotized her. I told her to go to the Lion Park and pursue lions until she was killed by one.”

My mind was reeling, and in skepticism, I pointed out, “Lions avoid making contact with humans — ”

“Ordinarily, they do, yes,” she acknowledged. “But there had been a drought, and food was likely harder for them to come by. That policeman we talked to — I bribed him for more details. I asked him why they weren’t disclosing information on the body. He told me her body had been mauled by a lion. So, what I had done worked.”

My heart pounded. Could she be telling the truth? “Why would they keep that quiet?” I asked her.

“The Lion Park brings in a lot of money from wildlife groups and tourists. They didn’t want to cause anyone to panic.”

“Is this the truth?” I inquired, my heart suspended between impossible hope and almost-certain disappointment. Surely what she was saying couldn’t be the truth. A big part of me expected her to say it wasn’t.

“I promise with all my soul that it is,” she confirmed.

I lowered my head, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. “Call,” I told her hoarsely. I turned from her, barely able to comprehend the release she had offered me. A load had been lifted — I wasn’t culpable for what had happened back then. But a separate load still remained. Africa had taught me a lesson, even if that lesson had been learned through a misunderstanding. My powers would pose a great danger if I ever lost control of them. I still needed to keep a check on myself. That hadn’t changed.

While I was mired in my own thoughts, Constance made her call. When she was done, she sat the phone down and walked toward me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. Before I knew it, she had grabbed my head and pressed her lips to mine.

As I pulled away from her with a strange feeling of pity, she whispered, “I wish things could have been different between us. Be — be happy with Lois.”

I sighed. “We’re just friends, Constance.”

“Not always,” she countered with a wry smile. “Some things are meant to be.”

We didn’t say anything else until the police arrived. As she was handcuffed and taken away, she whispered, “Goodbye, Clark.”

“Goodbye, Constance,” I returned softly.

A few minutes later, I was alone in my apartment and seated on my couch. I thought of Constance. She wasn’t all bad despite her misguided actions, but the grief she had caused me had changed my life.

I let my mind turn to Africa, to the friends I had left behind. In one day, I had cut myself off from all that. The enjoyment I had found in that country had been great — but then Constance had ruined my entire life. Everything had changed so quickly.

Despite it all, I felt sorry for her. Africa had turned her life around, too. But while I would one day be able to move past it, she never could. She had doomed herself. At least in prison she couldn’t hurt anyone else. Maybe they would even be able to help her there.

I inhaled deeply and then picked up the phone. If Luthor was dead, then Lois needed to know. It wasn’t a conversation I looked forward to, but she needed to hear it from me rather than on the news.

I dialed her number with clumsy fingers and waited. She didn’t pick up — which wasn’t surprising since her phone was probably ringing off the hook due to the events of the day — but I did get her answering machine. “Lois,” I said into the receiver, “this is Clark. I have…some news for you. Please call me when — ”

“Clark?” she picked up. “What’s wrong?”

I hesitated. “Could…could I come over? I have something you need to hear.”

“All right,” she said, though I could hear the reluctance in her voice.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay.”

***

When Lois let me into her apartment, we went and sat on the couch. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there with her staring at me expectantly before I finally got up the nerve to speak. “Lois, I…I don’t know how to say this. Lex Luthor — he’s been killed.”

“What?” she whispered.

“He’s dead now,” I said, swallowing. “I’m sorry — he must have…meant something to you. Constance — from the Magic Club — had him killed.” I closed my eyes. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

When I opened my eyes, I saw that Lois was staring blankly into nothingness. “Dead,” she echoed at last.

“Are you okay, Lois?” I asked, looking at her helplessly.

“I don’t know, Clark,” she said in a voice that seemed to have some bitterness in it. “You just told me my ex-fiancé is dead. It’s…a little much to take in.”

“I know,” I said softly, wrapping an arm around her and resting my head against hers. I knew somehow that her bitterness wasn’t aimed at me. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Clark,” she whispered, her head on my shoulder. “I know you are.”

It was times like this that I wished magic wasn’t so destructive. If I could have waved a wand and erased all of Lois’s pain, I would have done it. For Lois Lane, I would have moved the heavens and the earth. I would have braved meteor rock bullets, continent-tearing tempests, rampaging supercreatures. I would have given my life for her with no regrets.

She felt so good leaning up against me — but I knew times like this would be fleeting. Eventually, she would find another man…and it would be his shoulder she would cry on. She would have no need of me then. If I had to watch her walk down the aisle again — though it would mangle my heart beyond recognition — I would do it. I would do anything for her happiness and her well being. I only wished I didn’t have to protect her from myself.

I looked down at her with a smile as I realized she had fallen asleep. I almost rose to pick her up and carry her to her bed, but she seemed so peaceful I didn’t want to wake her up.

Shifting slightly, I decided with a mixture of reluctance and gladness to sleep on the couch with her. Part of me — the smart part — warned me it was dangerous, but I ignored that voice. All I could think was: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could fall asleep every night in my arms?

Unbidden, my mind turned to Luthor and what he had almost had. He had almost been married to Lois Lane.

But he could never have truly known her great worth. Though I felt he had loved her in his own way, he hadn’t loved her the way she deserved to be loved. She deserved someone who cared about her dreams more than his own.

As I thought of Luthor’s death, I sighed quietly, careful not to wake Lois. The Daily Planet would need to print a story about what had happened. Lois and I were too close to it, however, so I resolved to give the story to Jimmy. I knew he would do it justice, though I couldn’t tell him about everything. There were some things people were better off not knowing.

An invisible hand squeezed my heart as I continued to dwell on Luthor. It was frightening to think about how the man had almost taken Lois out of my life forever.

***

Chapter 29: Joyful Faces Wherever You Go

Holly reeds and hidden mistletoe,

Symbols of the season’s might . ..

Joyful faces wherever you go …

— “On a Snowy Christmas Night”

***

The next few weeks were filled with Christmas. I wasn’t sure how exactly, but the holiday — which had meant the world to me so many years ago — had managed to creep up on me. And now it was everywhere — in products at department stores, decorations at the Planet, carols on street corners.…

Yet despite the air of festivity, Lois was draped in gloom. The reason for her moroseness might have been the fiasco with Lex Luthor, but I wasn’t sure. She was constantly making negative comments about the rampant commercialism of the season, and I began to suspect her gloom could be attributed simply to a dislike of Christmas.

Finally, I asked her, “Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

“What do you think?” she asked with a strong bitterness I wasn’t expecting. “Christmas was the perfect time for Daddy to hole up with another mistress or pet project, Mom to drink too much eggnog, and Lucy and me to listen to our friends’ long lists of presents they hoped Santa would bring. We were lucky if the few presents we got were wrapped.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said in a quiet voice. Tentatively, I reached my hand out and grabbed hers, squeezing it very gently. Her countenance softening, she gave me a small grateful smile, and I found myself wishing I could hug her instead.

Pulling my hand away and resisting the strong urge to embrace her, I asked, “Do you have any plans for this Christmas?”

“I’m not really sure,” she answered, her voice devoid of enthusiasm. “Lucy’s run off with some guy to California, and my parents disappeared after my disaster of a wedding. We’ll probably all get together for a phone call. Mom and Dad will pretend to like each other, and Lucy and I will pretend we believe them.”

I stared at Lois, my heart aching for her. I hated that the holidays had been such a terrible time for her. They were supposed to be a period of joy and love toward one’s fellow man. I hated that she associated so many bad memories with Christmas — and I wanted to replace those bad ones with new ones.

As I considered the situation, an idea came to me. What if I invited her to spend Christmas with me and my parents in Smallville? It was hard for anyone to be downhearted during a Kent Christmas, and I knew I would enjoy spending more time with her away from work.

Superman could even “volunteer” his help in transporting us to Kansas. Maybe being in his arms would manage to cheer her up. I hated using my persona like that — especially since she seemed to think she was in love with him — but her happiness was more important than my feelings of awkwardness. I could never be with her in a romantic sense, but I could try as a friend to give her a Christmas to remember.

I was mired in such thoughts when Jimmy passed by Lois and me with a jar. “Don’t forget about the Secret Santa,” he told us. “It’s a newsroom tradition, and I’m in charge of it this year. We’re drawing names at the end of the day.”

Cat was in earshot and purred, “I would love to be Clark’s Secret Santa.”

I flushed but didn’t say anything.

Lois, however, called out after the departing Cat, “Handcuffs don’t make appropriate Christmas gifts.”

The gossip columnist paused and turned to say, “Speak for yourself,” and then she was off again.

Grinning despite myself, I turned and watched as Jimmy disappeared into Perry’s office. Interested in the reason for the big smile on the young man’s face, I couldn’t help but tune in with my super hearing.

Perry White looked up and saw his visitor. “All right, Jimmy. Now, have you thought about how to rig the Secret Santa so Lois and Clark get each other’s names?”

“Yeah!” Jimmy said eagerly. “I was thinking — maybe we could fill one jar with just C.K.’s name and one jar with just Lois’s name. Then, we can try to get them to come draw names separately — and then we swap the jars really quick.”

I rolled my eyes in amusement. Their attempts at matchmaking wouldn’t work, but I could use their scheming to my advantage and save them a little trouble.

“Be right back,” I mumbled to Lois, who made a dismissive gesture with her pen in response.

I strode up to Perry’s office and knocked; then I waited a few seconds for Jimmy to open the door.

“Hey, C.K.,” the newsroom gopher greeted, looking a little guilty. “What is it?”

I hid a smile. “Jimmy, can I, uh, talk to you for a second?”

“Sure, C.K.” He came out of Perry’s office after giving the Chief Editor a backwards glance. “What is it?”

In a quiet voice, I asked him, “Do you think I could have Lois’s name in the Secret Santa?”

Jimmy’s relief was almost palpable. “Sure, C.K. Don’t worry — I won’t tell anyone.”

I bet you won’t, I thought to myself in amusement. “Thanks, Jimmy.”

He returned to the Chief Editor’s office as I walked away. “Chief!” I heard him exclaim. “You’ll never believe this — C.K. asked for Lois’s name!”

“That’s great, Jimmy!” Perry proclaimed. “I’m glad we’ll only have to fill one jar with the same name.”

I stopped at my desk and looked over toward Perry White’s office. He was peeking out the blinds at me, smiling.

I nodded at him with a grin. He and Jimmy meant well, even if their plans could never come to fruition.

***

Wednesday was the day designated for gift-giving at the Planet. I had made my plans and talked to my parents, and I was excited at the thought of giving Lois a great Christmas. There wasn’t much I could do for her…but this — well, this I felt I could handle.

I arrived at work early and dropped a small red package on Lois’s desk. The reindeer tie I was wearing just increased my feelings of seasonal joviality, as did my Santa tie tack. Rampant commercialism or not — sometimes it was simply fun to allow yourself to feel like a kid.

Trying to restrain my excitement, I sat at my desk and pretended to be busy. Every time the elevator doors opened, I glanced up eagerly, hoping it was Lois. When it finally was, I brought my gaze back down, trying not to look obvious.

As her heels clicked close nearby, however, I felt it was safe enough to recognize her approach, so I lifted my head. “Lois,” I said warmly.

“Clark,” she returned evasively.

It was obvious she had something tucked inside her coat, and I queried, “What’s in your coat?”

She gave me an evil look. Obviously, she had hoped I wouldn’t notice. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she returned.

I grinned at her dodge and nodded at her desk. “Looks like your Secret Santa left you something.” I felt anxious. The moment of truth was coming up. Would she see my present as a boon or a curse?

Lois picked up the box, trying to hide her smile. She undid the green ribbon holding the lid to the bottom and opened the box up. Inside was a little piece of paper which read:

GOOD FOR ONE TRIP TO SMALLVILLE, KANSAS

SUPERMAN EXPRESS

6:00 PM

DECEMBER 23

She turned toward me in surprise. “Superman Express?”

I smiled. “Yes. I — I managed to talk to him. He said he could take us both separately to Smallville and save us money on airfare. It’s a gift from him, too.” I hated adding that last sentence, but I felt it was necessary.

Her brow lowered, and I could see she was hesitant to accept the gift. “I don’t want to bust up your family Christmas — ”

“Nonsense,” I told her resolutely. “My parents are looking forward to meeting you. My mom even said she’d come up to Metropolis to meet you if she had to.” It was the truth — Mom was expressing more and more interest in finally coming face to face with the woman I had talked about so much. She’d even said that if Lois didn’t come down for Christmas, then I would soon be finding my parents visiting me in Metropolis.

Lois still appeared to be uneasy. “But — it’s — it’s so…short notice.”

“You have no plans and thus no excuse,” I stated with gentle firmness. “You’ll stay in my room at my parents’ house, and I’ll take the couch in the living room.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to take your bed, Kent — ”

“Clark,” I corrected with an annoyed look. “And if you would prefer that we share…?”

“Actually, I think it’s a great idea for you to take the couch,” she backtracked.

I laughed. Personally, I was glad she hadn’t taken me up on my offer, even in jest — if she had, there was no telling how I would have handled it. “Great.”

Lois reached into her coat and took out the present she had been hiding. As she handed it to me, she said, “It’s not quite the same, but.…”

Resisting the urge to sneak a peek with my x-ray vision, I took the gift from her and unwrapped it. It was a framed picture of her and me at my desk laughing. “When was this taken?” I asked, staring down at it with a smile.

“I had Jimmy take it a few days ago,” she admitted.

I suddenly recalled how Jimmy had acted strange a few days ago when I had looked around after hearing a clicking noise, and I smiled. “It’s perfect. I love it.” I set the frame next to my monitor. I was glad to finally have a picture of Lois. I had thought of asking for one a few times but had chickened out, not wanting the request to come out as sounding strange.

“You know — it’s kind of odd that we both happened to be each other’s Secret Santas,” Lois commented.

“I asked Jimmy for your name,” I admitted, looking down at my hands. “And I also asked Perry if we could have a little extra time off for Christmas.”

“You really thought this out, didn’t you?”

I looked at her and smiled. “I sure did. I’m glad you’re coming, Lois. I’m going to make sure you have a great Christmas.” That was a promise.

She averted her eyes, and I thought I saw a flash of pain in them. Her parents really had ruined her childhood.

And that was why I was going to help her forge new memories. Lois Lane was a wonderful person. She deserved every drop of happiness I could give her.

We began working on a story, but we had only been at it for a few minutes before Lois suddenly and inexplicably started to panic. “Clark, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“What?” I frowned. I wasn’t sure what she meant.

“I don’t know what to give your parents,” she said flatly.

“Excuse me?” I still wasn’t following her logic.

“I need to give them a gift if they’re going to be my hosts,” she explained in agitation. “It is Christmas after all.”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to get them anything — ”

“Yes, I do, Clark,” she insisted.

I started to protest once more, but the resolution in her eyes caused my words to die unsaid. “All right, all right,” I conceded, realizing how important this was to her. “How about we go shopping after work? Will that make you feel better?”

She considered it and then nodded. “Yes.”

I gave her a gentle smile. “Great.”

***

The next day, I felt more like a kid on Christmas Day than an adult on December 23rd. I couldn’t wait for Lois to meet my parents. It was going to be one of the best Christmases I had ever had — and I wanted it to be that way for Lois.

I took first my bags and then Jericho to Smallville.

“I’m so glad she’s going to come,” Mom declared soon after my arrival. She sounded just as excited as I felt.

Jericho jumped out of my arms on the porch, and Mom ushered him inside, closing the door after him. She gave me a quick hug and then nodded toward the sky. “Now, hurry back to Metropolis, or you’ll be late picking up Lois.”

I laughed. “I’m going, Mom.” I flew away with a whisk of my cape and sped toward Metropolis. All I could think about was how glad I was to be able to spend this special time of year with Lois.

I hovered above Lois’s apartment building for a few seconds. I was going to have to be very careful. I didn’t want her to fall any further in love with my Superman persona than she already had.

Taking a deep breath, I descended and alighted on the sill of Lois’s open window.

Lois stood up from the couch. She had bundled up for the trip to Smallville, and I was glad — I had forgotten all about how cold it would be for someone without super-thick skin. With a smile, she greeted, “Superman.”

“Hi, Lois,” I said in return. “If it’s all right, I’ll take your bags first, and then I’ll take you.”

“Thanks for doing this, Superman,” she said shyly.

“Anything to help out a friend,” I told her dismissively as I grabbed her luggage. Hopefully, the word “friend” would remind her where we stood. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

I dropped her bags off in Smallville and then returned. As I stood in the window, I saw her smiling down sadly at a frame that held the same picture she had given me — Clark Kent — as a present. My breath caught in my throat. What did it mean? Did Clark Kent make her sad? Was it wrong of me to try to include her in my family Christmas?

Hesitantly, I ventured, “Lois?”

“Sorry,” she said, turning away from the frame and smiling at me. “I’m ready, Superman.”

I gathered her up in my arms, expecting her to nestle into my chest, but she seemed very distant. I, however, remained quite conscious of her closeness. The trip to Smallville suddenly appeared a lot longer than it had before I was holding Lois up against me.

Lois’s preoccupation meant I didn’t have to try to create small talk — which was good, as my thoughts were a jumbled mess.

I had somehow become dependent on Lois’s touch. There had been a time where I cringed away from it — but now I craved it.

Maybe it was a result of living without human touch during those painful and lonely years following my experience in Africa. Or maybe it was just because her very presence was intoxicating to me. The more I lived with her, the more I couldn’t live without her.

And now that she was in my arms, I wanted to lower my face to hers and kiss her. But I had to remain in control. Kissing Lois — as Superman — would be disastrous. So I remained quiet, glad when at last my parents’ farmhouse came into view.

I landed in front of the porch, where Mom was waiting. I let Lois down slowly, feeling bereft as she stepped away from me. Mom greeted Lois with open arms, pulling the startled reporter into an embrace.

“You must be Lois,” my mother said over Lois’s shoulder. She pulled away to study Lois’s face. “Please excuse me. I’ve heard so much about you — I feel almost as if I know you.”

It was all I could do to keep my face expressionless and refrain from saying, “Mom!”

Then my mother turned to me with a smile. “Thank you, Superman. We appreciate you doing this.”

“It’s no problem, M-Mrs. Kent,” I replied, almost slipping and calling her “Mom.” I nodded at them both. “I hope you all have a merry Christmas.”

“You, too, Superman,” Lois returned as I rose into the air.

As I flew out of sight, I heard Mom say to Lois, “Clark’s waiting inside with Jonathan. I’ll take you in, but first I want to point out a few things about the farm to you.…”

She was giving me time to get inside and settled, and I took advantage of it. I changed into my Clark Kent clothes and slipped inside the house. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, but he pulled me into a big hug when he saw me.

I smiled and embraced him back. Then we both sat down at the table.

“Are you doing all right, son?”

I looked at him, noting his expression of concern. “Yeah, Dad. I am.” What was startling was that it was true. I really was doing good. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. And it was all because of Lois.

He smiled back at me. “I’m glad to hear it.”

When Lois and Mom finally entered, Dad and I turned our eyes to them.

“Lois,” I said warmly as I stood, trying to cover up my sudden feeling of awkwardness. “Glad you made it. I see you’ve already met my mom.” I gestured toward Dad. “This is my dad. Dad, this is Lois.”

“Hello, Mr. Kent,” she said, shaking my father’s hand.

“Oh, please,” Mom said, “call us ‘Martha’ and ‘Jonathan.’ Like I told you earlier, we’ve heard so much about you — you’re already almost like family.”

I grinned at Lois. She seemed a little overwhelmed at how welcoming my parents were.

Perhaps Mom sensed that, for she suggested, “Clark, how about you show Lois around the house and take her stuff up while I make us all some hot chocolate?”

“All right,” I acknowledged. I gestured for Lois to follow me, and I led her into the living room.

I saw that Mom had already set up five stockings. Each stocking had a name on it in fabric paint: Mom, Dad, Clark, Jericho, and Lois. Each stocking also had a holder. Jericho’s stocking, I noted, had a bone on it, and his stocking holder was a dog wearing a Santa hat. Seeing it made me smile, but I quickly returned my eyes to Lois.

She had walked up with fumbling steps to the reindeer stocking with her name on it. Looking fascinated, she touched first the stocking and then the ceramic reindeer stocking holder which kept her stocking upright. She seemed touched by the personalized Christmas object.

My heart went out to her. Lois’s past Christmases must really have been lousy for a simple stocking to affect her so much…which was why it was so important that I had brought her here for an old-fashioned small-town Christmas. I felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was a good idea. I was certain of it now.

Dad had followed us into the living room, and I turned to him as he smiled at Lois and commented, “You can either take the stocking home with you when you return to Metropolis or keep it here for next year.”

“Wh-what?” Lois stuttered. She looked at Dad and then the stocking, flushing, and then she moved her eyes to my parents’ undecorated Christmas tree.

I had reddened a little myself. Real smooth, Dad, I thought.

As Lois took a few steps toward our bare tree, looking bewildered, Mom came into the room. Seeing Lois’s expression, Mom explained, “We don’t decorate the tree until Christmas Eve, and we don’t put out presents until Christmas morning. It’s tradition.”

“Why?” Lois asked, puzzled.

Mom glanced at me affectionately, and I looked down at my feet in embarrassment. “When Clark was a little boy, he used to get so excited about Christmas, and he would constantly touch the ornaments and usually break some of them. As for presents, well, he would shake them to try to guess what they were — and that occasionally ended up with them breaking, too. So we started to delay decorating the tree and putting out presents. When Clark got older, well, we just continued to do it how we’d always done it.”

As I stared at the tree, I couldn’t help but think to myself with amusement that it was good I hadn’t had my present strength when I was a boy. More than just a few presents and ornaments would have been broken if that were the case.

“Clark, go take Lois’s stuff up to your room, and then set your stuff by the couch. I mean…unless you are…,” my mother trailed off suggestively.

“Mom!” I exclaimed with a blush. She knew full well we weren’t doing what she was implying.

“Well,” she returned impishly, her eyes glinting.

I glared daggers at her briefly before turning away. “Come on, Lois,” I muttered. I grabbed Lois’s bags and took them up the stairs to my room, where I sat them down. I was still feeling embarrassed about what my mom had said.

“So, this is your room,” Lois commented, gazing around in interest.

There were still several items of my boyhood scattered about the room — a signed baseball here, a plastic trophy there.… I hadn’t had the heart to throw much out after leaving for college, so in some ways it still seemed as if a kid lived there. Perhaps it was the books lining the bookshelf that were the greatest clue that an adult had spent a lot of time in there. Ten-year-olds didn’t read Paradise Lost.

“I like it,” she told me with a smile and an approving nod. “It’s cozy.”

“Good.” I grinned. “I rather like it myself, seeing as I did most of the decorating. Come on — let’s go back downstairs.”

***

We went and had hot chocolate with my parents, who chatted happily about everything from the farm to the latest scandal in Metropolis politics. Lois laughed frequently and seemed to be enjoying herself, and I was glad. Any awkwardness that might have existed earlier was gone, erased by the easygoing nature of my parents.

Still, I was worried about Lois — and her past Christmases weren’t the only reason. She always kept herself at such a distance from people, and what had happened with Lex Luthor certainly hadn’t helped her. She was such a kindhearted and passionate person.… I just wished more people knew her the way I did. She really did deserve a man who would treat her as she deserved. I wished I could be that man, but it simply wasn’t possible.

When it was time for bed, Lois said reluctantly, “Well, I’d probably better head for bed. Goodnight, everyone.” She nodded at my parents and then gave me a warm smile before she started toward the stairs.

“Goodnight, Lois,” I told her in a raised voice, my parents also chiming in.

She turned and smiled at us in gratitude. Jericho trotted over to her, and I called out after him, “Traitor!”

But he just wagged his tail and continued on his merry way. I watched them go with a smile.

“Clark, I love her.”

“Pardon?” I asked with a raised eyebrow as I turned to my mother.

“Lois,” she specified, as if it should have been obvious. “She’s an amazing woman. I think she might be the ‘one’ for you, Clark.”

In a hushed and almost sad voice, I told her, “I can never be in a relationship with a woman.” The danger was too great. What had happened in Africa hadn’t been my fault — but Constance had gained control over me. If I could lose control because of a clock, then surely I can lose control when passionate emotions come over me. I was destined for a life of celibacy, and that was all there was to it. I couldn’t ask anyone to take that journey with me.

But Mom just didn’t understand, and she told me, “That’s ridiculous, Clark.”

“It’s my decision, Mom.” Even if it hurt, it was what I had to do.

Dad sighed. “I try not to step in too much, son, but I’m afraid I agree with your mother on this one. There’s no reason you can’t settle down with Lois. Whatever happened in Africa is in the past — ”

But I shook my head stubbornly. “No, Dad. I can’t do that.”

But though I knew logically that I could never truly be with Lois, a dream had formed — a dream of Lois and me, together and in love. A dream I knew I would never be able to banish.

A dream I knew would torture me every day of my life.

***

Chapter 30: The Season of Cheer

I hear the bells

Saying Christmas is near.

They ring out to tell the world

That this is the season of cheer.

— “If Every Day Was Christmas”

***

On Christmas Eve, I took Lois around town in my father’s truck. Despite her amused cracks about small towns, I pointed out landmarks and businesses, mentioning people and traditions and memories. If she had acted bored, I would have stopped, but she seemed to be enjoying herself, so I continued our tour for a while.

Finally, I decided we should eat lunch at Maisie’s. Lois didn’t seem inclined to argue, so it was settled. The restaurant was small, but the food was great. Not as good as my mother’s, of course, but definitely delicious. And I’d had more than one of Maisie’s homemade chocolate shakes growing up.

No sooner had Lois and I sat down than Maisie came over to us with a pen and a pad of paper. “Clark Kent!” she exclaimed. “Are you back in town for the holidays?”

I smiled at Maisie, glad to see her. She wasn’t as thin or young as she used to be, but she was one of the nicest people in Smallville (if a bit of a gossip). “Sure am.”

“You’re a big-time reporter now,” she commented, examining Lois. “And is this your girlfriend?”

I glanced over at Lois, who blushed bright red and said, “No, no. We’re just friends. Just friends.”

I frowned and tried to study Lois, wondering at the strength of her reply. Had I simply imagined her vehemence? If I hadn’t, then what did it mean?

“Just friends, huh?” Maisie asked, her eyebrow raised skeptically. “I heard you got over that phobia of yours, Clark — I thought it might be because you’d finally decided to settle down.”

Squirming in my chair as my thoughts flicked to my locket, I told Maisie, “Just…trying to move forward.”

She smiled. “Well, in honor of your movement forward, you can each have a free dessert on me! Think about what you want — and remember, we make a mean chocolate pie.”

“Clark’s chocolate pie isn’t anything to sneeze at,” Lois remarked with a grin. I smiled at her. It made me feel good that she remembered my pie.

Maisie crossed her arms. “So, he cooked for you? Are you sure you two aren’t dating, child?”

I coughed and asked, “How’s Tom?” Maisie would have continued her present line of inquiry all day if she wasn’t derailed.

Maisie took up the new subject eagerly, as I knew she would. “Oh, you know Tom — he’s always got some pet project going.…” And then she began to ramble on happily about what exactly it was that Tom — her son — was doing.

***

After we finished eating (and the pie received Lois’s stamp of approval), Lois and I walked back out to the truck.

“So, do you know everyone in Smallville?” Lois asked, only half joking.

“Not everyone,” I returned. “But a lot of us know each other, yes.” It was helpful to have a lot of friends in a farming community. Owing someone a favor could do a lot for a person — it reminded me of the favor Perry had owed to Professor Carlton. That favor had gotten me a job, and I wouldn’t ever forget it.

“It must be hard having everyone know your secrets,” Lois remarked.

“What makes you think I have secrets?” I returned. She raised an eyebrow, and I conceded, “Well, maybe I have one or two. But having secrets just means you can’t tell them to anyone.”

“What good’s a secret if you can’t tell anyone?” Lois exclaimed. “Why hide a light under a bushel and not let anyone see it shine?”

I laughed at her comparison. “Well, at least I have someone like you to share things with,” I said cheekily.

“You mean someone like me to ferret out all your secrets,” she corrected with narrowed eyes. “After all, you didn’t tell me about — ” her voice got quiet “ — Jericho.”

I winced. She had a point. “I’m sorry, Lois. Superman didn’t want me to tell anyone.” It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. I didn’t want myself to tell anyone. I was more sorry that she had found out than I was that I hadn’t told her. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to tell her all my secrets — it was just that it was best for her not to know them.

“Well, you should have made an exception for me.” Her tone brooked no room for argument, so I refrained from replying.

We drove to the farm in silence. After we got out of the truck, she started to head toward the house, but I told her, “Wait. I want to show you something.” Maybe I couldn’t tell her I was Superman, but I could give her a bit of insight into part of my past.

She came back to me expectantly, and I led her to my treehouse. Then I scuttled up the ladder and looked down at her. “Come on up.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to come up there? How old is that thing, anyway?”

“It’s sturdy enough to hold us,” I told her confidently. “Come on.”

Lois sighed and then climbed up with obvious reluctance. She entered the child’s playhouse and gazed around. The childhood mementos in my room couldn’t hold a candle to those found in my treehouse. It was like a museum dedicated to young Clark Kent. Baseball cards, action figures, trophies, sports equipment, comic books, and other countless toys were stuffed into every nook and cranny. It was the kind of clutter only a boy could enjoy.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude,” I proclaimed grandly with a sweeping gesture. Then I noticed an old candy wrapper on the floor and grabbed it and stuffed it into my pocket sheepishly. Not even boys wanted there to be trash on the ground.

“Fortress of Solitude?” Lois echoed in a skeptical tone as she continued her inspection. “You make that name up all by yourself?”

“Dad might have suggested it,” I conceded. “I was up here alone a lot, and it did seem to fit.” It had been particularly fitting later in my life. It was a place for me to go when I wanted to be alone while still being somewhere my parents could find me. But they had known not to bother me when I was in the treehouse unless they really needed to.

Lois smiled and reached out to touch an old quilt my mom had put in the treehouse a long while back. I had curled up with it many a time in my youth when my developing powers had appeared to be a disaster of mountainous proportions. I would hide my head under it and pretend the outside world — with its loud noises, suddenly see-through locked doors, and flammable homes — didn’t exist.

Lois sighed and remarked, “I wish I had had a place like this.” The sadness on her face tore at my heart. “The only place of refuge for Lucy and me was our bedroom. We’d go there when Mom and Dad started fighting, and we’d hide under the covers.…”

Hesitantly, I reached out and grabbed her hand, trying to offer her comfort.

She gave me a grateful look and continued a few seconds later. “I started telling her stories about a handsome prince who would come charging in on a great white steed to take her away to some magical land where everybody was always happy. When she got older, I had to get more creative, and I stopped making the stories specifically about her. One time, I decided that the lowly stable boy rather than the handsome prince should end up with the princess, and she really liked that.” She smiled. “After that, she shunned endings in which the prince and the princess ended up together. She rolled her eyes whenever the princess was called on to save the stable boy instead of the other way around, but I think she liked it.”

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It was strange how that story resonated with me — in many ways, I felt like the stable boy. But sometimes, a stable boy just couldn’t end up with the princess.

“Fantasy became really important to us. We would talk about and dream of grand weddings and solid marriages. We would talk about how things would be so much more different for us than it had been for our parents. I think that’s one reason why I almost married Lex — I was trying to reach for that perfect dream-world Lucy and I had created. Lex was like the rich and handsome prince who could offer the perfect wedding and the perfect life — and I had often thought, when telling Lucy those stories, that the prince really was the one that the princess should marry. But I was wrong — wealth alone does not create perfection. My father certainly had money…and he and my mom turned out to be a federal disaster.” Lois sighed, staring down at our joined hands. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told Lucy all those stories. She also seems to be chasing after something elusive.”

“No, Lois,” I disagreed. “Those stories helped you both get through the tough times. It sounds to me like you were a great sister.” My words felt inadequate. How could I express the sympathy I felt for her? I hoped the warmth of our hands was good enough. Sometimes, small actions could speaker louder than great words. That was something I had really begun to realize after meeting her.

Lois shrugged, looking bitter but sad. “I had to be sister, mother, father — our parents weren’t there for her, so someone had to be.”

“But who was there for you?” the words slipped out of my mouth.

Her eyes met mine, and she didn’t have to answer. Nobody had been there for her but herself.

I placed my free hand on top of hers, and we sat there in companionable silence until it was time for dinner.

***

After dinner, we all gathered around the tree to decorate it. Mom brought out the boxes of ornaments, and I found some hooks to hang them up with. Then we started decorating the tree amid smiles and conversation. There was something great about the simple act of decorating a Christmas tree. Maybe it was the colors…maybe it was the company…maybe it was just the comfort of tradition…or maybe it was everything put together. But whatever it was, I certainly enjoyed it.

When Lois dropped an ornament and broke it, her expression became one of horror. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, staring down at the pieces and moving to pick them up.

Kneeling to help, Mom told her, “Honey, if you knew how many Clark has broken, you wouldn’t even worry about it. We could have kept a small Christmas store in business.” She took the pieces from Lois and threw them away.

I grinned in embarrassment. “It’s true. You should have seen how sad I was when I broke a polar bear ornament.”

Mom laughed. “He took the pieces up to his room and glued them together. But when he put the bear on the tree, it fell apart after a few hours, and so he insisted on having a small burial service for it.”

“It’s probably still out there under that old oak tree buried in a shoebox,” Dad noted with a chuckle. “I tried to convince him you didn’t need to have a funeral for a plastic bear, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Sounds like you were a cute kid,” Lois commented in amusement.

“I bet you were even cuter,” I returned without thinking. My face promptly became a dark shade of red.

Lois just laughed it off. “What do you mean? I’m still a cute kid.” She reached out and grabbed an ornament and moved to put it on the tree.

“Not that one!” I exclaimed. I felt instantly sheepish for my outburst, but there was no taking it back.

Lois stared at me as if I’d just sprouted another eye. “Excuse me?”

I took the ornament from her, smiling down at it as I recalled past Christmases. “This is Frank, and he goes on last.” Frank was a lime-green dinosaur with a Santa hat.

Lois shook her head. “You and your crazy traditions.”

I crossed my arms, careful not to break Frank. “Hey — I like things the way I like them.” Routine had always been of some comfort to me. That wasn’t exactly surprising considering how my world had seemed to be in constant flux in my youth.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Mom said in a conspiratorial voice. “The Kent men are set in their ways.”

“Apparently,” Lois commented as she grabbed a different ornament. She held it in the air for my inspection. “Can I put this cow up, or is he supposed to be added to the tree three ornaments before Frank?”

“Bessie can go on at any time,” I informed her mirthfully.

She rolled her eyes and put the ornament on the tree with a flourish. Jericho, as if to support her, barked.

***

After we finished decorating the tree, we went to the Christmas Eve service at the United Methodist Church. It was a candlelight service, so at the end the artificial lights were dimmed, and we all held candles and sang carols. My singing voice was a little off-key, but what I lacked in talent I made up in spirit, and Lois didn’t tease me more than once or twice about how I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Her voice, I noticed, was spectacular.

We returned to my parents’ house, and I — per another Kent family tradition — read aloud from our worn-out copy of “‘Twas the Night before Christmas.” Everyone listened with bright smiles as I walked around and made the appropriate gestures. My favorite was shaking my stomach like a bowl full of jelly. It made Lois roll her eyes, but I could tell she was amused, so I didn’t feel bad for acting goofy.

When I at last proclaimed, “Merry Christmas to all — and to all a good night,” my mother returned with a laugh, “Goodnight!”

As she and Dad stood, Mom told us, “We’re going to go sleep. You two don’t stay up too late. Santa’s coming in the morning.” She gave us a wink.

After a round of hugs, they left for bed with Jericho at their heels (evidently, he wanted to sleep with everyone in the house but me). Lois wandered back to the tree, which was covered in lights and lit up like…well, like a Christmas tree. She touched a branch reverently, as if the sight of it were something precious, and then she turned toward me. “Thank you, Clark. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

I gave her half a smile, my heart aching for her. “But it isn’t even Christmas yet. Just you wait — there’s still more in store.”

She tilted her head wistfully, and I pulled her into an embrace, wishing there was some way I could comfort her and take away the pain of past years. But I couldn’t change what had been — I could only affect what was to be. It was a sobering thought…yet it also made me a little hopeful.

I enjoyed the feel of her soft body against mine and the soft scent of her shampoo. I wished I could stay like that forever, but I didn’t want to seem as if I was lingering, so I gave her a gentle squeeze and pulled away. “Goodnight, Lois.”

She gave me a small smile. “Goodnight, Clark.”

I watched as she walked away slowly, as if reluctant to leave the warmth of the glow coming off the tree. She was such an integral part of my life, and I didn’t want her to be in pain ever again. I only hoped that this Christmas would be a step toward healing those wounds of the past.

***

On Christmas morning, we all gathered in the kitchen before moving to the living room. Lois paused in surprise as she noticed all the presents gathered around the tree, and she looked at them in wonder. I felt I could read her thoughts — she was thinking this was so unlike her family’s Christmases. The thought saddened me, but it strengthened my resolve to make this Christmas one to remember.

I nudged Lois and nodded at the stockings, which were filled to the brim. When her eyes moved to her stocking, she simply stood and stared at it until Mom prodded gently, “Go ahead and get it, Lois. It won’t bite you.”

Lois retrieved the stocking with careful movements and then went and sat awkwardly with it. I watched her briefly before sitting beside her with my stocking and Jericho’s. The dog’s full attention was on me as I pulled out a bone. “Do you want it, boy?”

He barked in confirmation, his eyes intent on the treat. With a grin, I placed several things from his stocking onto the floor: a bone, some rawhide chews, a tennis ball, and a stuffed snowman. Jericho promptly took his treats one by one to a corner and then sat and started in on the bone.

Laughing as I saw he would be busy for a while, I turned my eyes to Lois. “All right, Lois. You’re next.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“It goes from youngest to oldest. So, you’re up next.” I grinned.

“Ah, yes, tradition,” she said dryly. But she didn’t argue with me, and she started pulling items out of her stocking. First, she pulled out a Swiss army knife and raised an eyebrow at me.

“I might have noticed your knife was getting rusted,” I admitted. She took her Swiss army knife with her everywhere, and I knew how helpful it had been to her. I was glad I had been able to suggest something to my mom that I knew would be used.

Lois smiled and shook her head and then continued pulling out items — lotion, fingernail polish, pepper spray, Double Fudge Crunch bars, socks, a keychain flashlight, a Krypto ornament (which made me roll my eyes).… She just seemed so surprised as she kept pulling out more and more items. When she was finally done, she commented, “When my mother did stockings — which wasn’t very often — she usually stuffed the bottom of them with toilet paper so she didn’t have to fill them up. This was…amazing. Martha, Jonathan — thank you. You really didn’t have to do this.” I saw a tear gleaming in her eye.

Mom moved to hug her briefly, and Lois returned the gesture with some awkwardness. I wanted to embrace Lois as well, but I refrained. I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“It was our pleasure, Lois,” Mom said with a smile. I hadn’t told Mom much about Lois’s past, but she seemed to have gleaned a lot.

It was my turn next, so I sifted through my stocking, which included the usual giant load of candy in addition to some other items like socks and yet another Krypto keychain. I smiled at the sight of it all. “Thanks, Mom, Dad.”

“You’re welcome, son,” Dad said warmly.

My parents took out items they had gotten each other from their stockings, and then we all opened presents. Mom had plenty of presents for everyone, including Lois. I paid close attention to what Lois got. There were frivolous things for her like a nice blouse which Mom thought Lois could wear under a business suit and a scarf full of holes that was more fashion-friendly than function-friendly, and there were also some practical things like an under-the-counter organizer. Lois gave my mom a bright pink jogging suit, and she gave my dad a subscription to a magazine he had once expressed an interest in. When I opened Lois’s present to me, I laughed.

“I figured I would give you one nice tie and one crazy tie,” she told me with glimmering eyes. “I didn’t give you one loud enough to be heard in the nearest seven states, but I did find one that’s hopefully to your tastes.”

Chuckling, I told her, “Yes. You did. And this ‘normal’ one isn’t bad either.” I grinned down at the ties in my hands. She hit me lightly in the arm, and I jumped up eagerly. “Now, it’s time for your present from me!”

I went and got a small box from underneath the tree. I had placed it there last night. “Well — it’s from me and Superman,” I amended. “He, ah, helped with it.” More specifically, Superman’s powers had helped with it.

I handed the box to Lois nervously and backed away.

When Lois unwrapped and opened the box, she stared at its contents in wonder. “It’s beautiful, Clark.” She picked up the diamond bracelet with great care and slipped the white gold around her wrist. It fit perfectly, just like I’d hoped it would.

“Superman, uh, he mined the diamonds,” I told her, feeling a little uncomfortable. Mining wasn’t exactly my favorite thing to do, but I had the advantage of x-ray vision in addition to my great strength, so the task hadn’t been too difficult. “I had a friend of Mom’s help out with the setting,” I explained awkwardly. “You — you gave me jewelry once, and I figured I should do the same.” I had actually considered going for a necklace instead, but if she had asked me to put it on her, I wouldn’t have been able to — it seemed too…intimate. I would have probably just broken the latch. But I had wanted to give her something special, and jewelry was all I could come up with.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Lois said with a smile. She stared down at it, and a strange expression crossed over her face. But the look was so fleeting that I didn’t quite know what it meant, so I finally just dismissed it.

We returned to opening presents from my parents, and when we were done, Lois went into the kitchen with my mom. When I did a little super peeking, however, I saw she wasn’t helping with food — just talking. But that was about all Lois could do in the kitchen (if she was to be believed). They seemed to be getting along fine, so I had no concerns. I was glad Lois could spend some alone time with my mother.

“Lois is a very special woman,” Dad commented.

“I know,” I acknowledged. “Special” didn’t even begin to cover it. “Thank you both for letting her come.”

He smiled at me. “You know you can bring her any time, Clark. We know how important she is to you.”

I exhaled loudly. “Yeah.”

“Do you love her?”

I closed my eyes. “It was never a question of love, Dad.” And then I opened my eyes and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

***

We ate a grand lunch which included a freshly made pecan pie. “This is incredible, Martha,” Lois exclaimed as she took a bite of her piece.

I nodded in agreement, too busy stuffing my face to speak. It was delicious.

“Thanks,” Mom returned with a smile. “It was my mother’s recipe.”

Lois looked at me questioningly, and I fingered my locket and gave her a nod. The picture inside my locket was of my mom’s mother. She had made great pies, and she had especially loved making them for me. Great pies always made me think of her.

After we put all the plates up, Mom shooed Lois and me out of the kitchen, and we went and sat on the couch in the living room. Lois looked at all her presents on the floor, marveling at them. “I don’t know if I can get them all home,” she said with a laugh.

Smiling, I told her, “I’m sure Superman won’t mind.” That was an understatement. I would’ve made a thousand trips if she had needed it. All she would’ve had to do was say the word.

She nodded and then furrowed her brow. “When is…Superman picking us up?”

My mood darkened slightly. Of course she would want to know when her superhero crush was arriving. I fought to keep my voice even. “Seven o’clock tonight. He wanted to give us a little time to recover from our festivities.”

She lifted up her hand — which had the bracelet I had given her on it — and turned my head toward her. My bad mood instantly dissipated.

As I gently placed my hand on hers, I asked in confusion, “What is it, Lois?”

“Clark,” she said softly, “I want you to know how grateful I am for what you have done to help make this Christmas special. It has been the most magical time of my life.”

I stared into her eyes, drowning in their depths. The thought that I was hopelessly and irreversibly in love with Lois Lane swam through my mind with all the forcefulness of a striking shark. When she pressed her lips to mine, I pulled her body toward me without any hesitation and deepened our kiss, fire shooting through my veins.

It was all I could have hoped for and more. The taste of her on my tongue was like oxygen to my heart, and all I wanted was for it to last forever. But such bliss couldn’t be sustained, so I pulled away from her at last.

We stared at each other for a few seconds. I didn’t know what to say — what to do — what to think. I furrowed my brow. “Lois — ”

She suddenly flushed bright red. After giving an unintelligible whirlwind of an apology, she muttered something about going outside and fled.

Dazed, I watched her leave the room. My lips felt like they were burning.

My thoughts flashed to my former resolve to never be in a relationship. How could I keep myself chaste when I felt such passion for this…this fireball of a woman? I wanted to hold her in my arms forever. When she had left the room, a great emptiness had welled up inside me.

Could I do it? Could I — be in a relationship with Lois Lane?

My hopes crept higher and higher, but then I thought of the pain in her eyes as she had spoken of her broken childhood, and I had to dash those hopes. I would never be able to live with myself if I accidentally hurt Lois.

I just couldn’t do it.

***

After a somewhat awkward dinner, I excused myself to go out to the barn. It was time for Superman to make his appearance. For that matter, I didn’t feel like I could face Lois as Clark for a second longer.

I went up to the door of my parents’ house and knocked.

Mom opened the door. “Oh, Superman, hello. I guess you’re here for Lois and Clark?”

I nodded, feeling strangely disgusted with myself for this charade. “Are they…ready?”

Lois appeared behind my mom. “Yes. We’re all packed.” She turned to my mother and hugged her. “Martha, thanks for everything.” And then she turned to my father, who was approaching, and gave him a hug, too. “And thank you, Jonathan.” There might have been tears in her eyes, but if there were, she blinked them away. “I had a wonderful Christmas.”

“Well, you’re welcome back again whenever you’d like,” Mom said with a bright smile. She gave me a significant look, but I ignored it. After what had happened between Lois and me, I had no intentions of getting this close to her again anytime soon.

Lois gestured to her bags. She had more to take home than she had when she first came, as my mom had helped her put all her Christmas presents into bags for easier travel. Still, it wouldn’t be a problem for me to carry it all.

“Clark should be back in a minute,” Lois told me. “His stuff’s over there.” She pointed at my pile of bags.

After glancing at my luggage, I nodded. “All right. I’ll take your bags first, and then I’ll come back for you. Then I’ll return for Clark and, ah, the dog.” The animal in question was sniffing at my boots, and I gave his head a gentle pat. Even though it was probably okay for Superman to know that Lois knew Jericho was Krypto, I didn’t want to remind her of that particular secret. I was already going to be on thin ice after kissing her.

“Okay,” Lois acknowledged, looking away from me with a pensive expression.

I grabbed her bags and then left in a flash. When I returned, I told my parents with a nod, “I will be back soon.” Then I gathered Lois into my arms, took a deep breath, and rose into the air.

Lois was quiet for only a few seconds before speaking. “Thank you for the gift from you and Clark. It was really thoughtful.”

“It was my pleasure,” I told her with a faltering smile. But she didn’t notice my awkwardness; she seemed too thoughtful to pay me much heed. That was especially good because I was becoming increasingly conscious of having her in my arms.

“Superman, could I…talk to you about something personal?”

Swallowing, I fumbled, “Uh, sure.” If she wanted to talk, I wasn’t going to stop her, although if she confessed her undying love for Superman after having just kissed Clark, it was going to kill me.

“I have to admit — I once…well, I had a little crush on you.” She paused for a second and amended, “Okay, a big crush.”

Past tense. That was good, right? She wasn’t going to tell me her crush had grown into love, was she?

“But now,” she said hesitantly, “well, now I’m thinking seriously about Clark.”

I almost dropped her, but I caught myself after just a tiny hitch in our flight. The question “What?” reverberated in my head, and I had to bite it down.

Not even realizing how shocked I was with this revelation, she continued, “There’s this strange…connection between us. And I think he feels it, too.” Fortunately, she didn’t seem to be expecting a response — because I couldn’t give one. “But he’s holding back for some reason, and I don’t know why. It could be he’s still a little scared of touching people, but I’m not sure.”

She sighed and was quiet for about a minute before speaking again. Unfortunately, this time she did expect a reply. “What do you think, Superman? Do you think there could ever be a relationship between me and Clark?”

I wanted to respond that there couldn’t be one. I should have responded that way. But I couldn’t. All I was able to manage was: “I don’t know. M-maybe.”

I dropped her off at her home, half expecting her to ask me to come in, but she didn’t. And so I flew slowly back to Kansas to get my bags, lost in my thoughts and dreams and fears.

***

Chapter 31: It Feels So Right … How Can It Be Wrong?

Step in these arms where you belong.

It feels so right, so right.…

How can it be wrong?

— “It Feels So Right”

***

A few weeks passed by. Chinese water torture would have been more pleasant.

Though we danced around the issue a few times, Lois and I couldn’t bring ourselves to discuss what had taken place between us. It was as if nothing had ever happened — and yet…it was also as if everything had happened.

Lois got angry at me for a few Superman-induced disappearances, yet her anger was strangely short lived. But when Jimmy made a mumbled comment about the unresolved sexual tension between Lois and me, she gave him a look so hot it could have fried an egg (as it was, Jimmy had gulped and fled the scene). But he wasn’t the only one to notice the strange air between me and Lois — Perry attempted a few times to talk with me about it, but I doggedly avoided the issue. Lois, I suspected, did the same.

One Friday, Cat missed work. Caught up in my own problems, I hadn’t noticed it, but Jimmy — who had a bit of a crush on her — did notice, and he mentioned it to me. When she came in on Monday, however, I was about to ask how she was feeling when I realized something.

Though the gossip columnist had on a lot of makeup and a dramatic hat, I was able to see a bruise on her face. My heart hardened in dread and sympathy, and I walked up to her. “Cat — can I see you in the conference room for a minute?”

“I knew you’d come around eventually,” she said sensually. But on seeing the serious look on my face and possibly even realizing what it meant, her smile dropped. “Okay.”

We went into the conference room and shut the door. Softly, I asked her, “What happened to your face?” My question wasn’t entirely diplomatic in its phrasing, but it had to be asked. And I knew the answer couldn’t be good.

“I ran into a doorknob,” Cat said curtly. Seeing my expression, she sighed. “Not all the men of the world are Boy Scouts like you.”

“Who was it?” I asked. I was fighting to keep my face blank, though it felt like one of my eyelids was twitching.

She gave me a brittle smile. “I don’t need you to go after him like a big brother. Tempting as the thought is, I don’t want you to sink to his level.”

I slapped my hand on the table, and she jumped. I was trembling with emotion. “Is this what you want from life, Cat? To let men in and out of your bed but never your heart?” How could she live like that?

“Why — are you offering?” she managed halfheartedly. But when my somber expression didn’t change, she dipped her head and fell silent.

“I know being a gossip columnist must mean that you have to subject yourself to a lot, but didn’t you ever want to do something else? Didn’t you ever have a different dream?”

“What — like being a mom taking care of five screaming children?” she returned sarcastically.

“No — like having a career where you can really enjoy and respect yourself.” I wasn’t backing down. This was too important.

She sighed. “There is something. But I’m not telling you.”

Gazing at her in sympathy, I said, “Cat — ”

“It’s too embarrassing,” she insisted.

I crossed my arms with a forced smile, trying to make myself calm down. “I won’t tell anyone. Scout’s honor.” I held up my fingers in the Boy Scouts symbol as proof of my integrity.

She stared at me for a moment before lowering her eyes. “I used to want to be an animal groomer,” she murmured.

I touched her shoulder gently. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Cat raised her head. “Did you hear me?” she asked with incredulity. “I just said I wanted to be an animal groomer.”

“And I said there’s nothing wrong with that,” I returned. And there wasn’t. “So, why don’t you go pursue that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”

But I was persistent. I wanted her to know this was a viable option. “I’m sure you already know a lot of higher ups in the city who have dogs and cats. It surely wouldn’t be that hard for you to start a business. You’ve already got a great name for a groomer.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that will earn me a lot of respect.”

“Then go by ‘Catherine,’” I suggested with a wry grin. “It might be nice for a change.”

As Cat looked at me, I saw she was actually considering it. Finally, she said with some reluctance, “You know…you might be right. Let’s say — hypothetically — that I did decide to drop everything and go into the pet grooming business.… Do you think you could get Superman to put in a good word for me? Maybe give me a little publicity with that dog of his?”

Superman had given a lot of interviews to Lane and Kent, so it wasn’t surprising that she thought I could get into contact with him. But her request made me uneasy. If this was a ploy for her to get Superman into her bed — but no. I trusted her. I honestly believed she was finally realizing that she wasn’t getting what she had wanted from life. “Superman might do that,” I told her. “I can always ask him the next time I see him.”

She smiled in gratitude. “All right.” She walked to the door, her hand poised on the knob. But before she turned it, she asked me, “So — when are you going to tell Lois?”

“Tell Lois what?” I asked with a frown.

“That you’ve hopelessly fallen in love with her,” she stated before she opened the door and walked out, leaving me gaping behind her. Somehow, she always knew how to catch me off-guard.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Was I really that obvious? Evidently, I was going to have to be a lot more careful in disguising my feelings. But I certainly wasn’t fooling Cat.

***

When I took Jericho on his after-work walk, I was preoccupied, to say the least.

I kept thinking of random things about Lois. The time I’d seen quite a lot of her legs — a different time when she had cried into my chest — a few brief flashes of the cleft in her chest promising hidden treasures beneath — the way she looked when she told me about how she had told fairy tales to her sister when their parents were fighting. The past made us both ache inside, and maybe that was part of what caused us to gravitate toward each other. But it was also part of what made us so wrong for each other. After all, how could I ever hope to ease her pain when I felt such a load on myself all the time?

I finally tugged on Jericho’s leash to indicate we needed to go home. At least something good might have come out of the day — maybe Cat would rethink her life. She was certainly smarter than she let on, that was for sure. Constantly playing the role of a piece of eye candy had to have worn on her.

When I opened the door to my apartment, Jericho trotted inside. I came in more slowly and closed the door with a sigh. I was thinking about how I should probably do some rounds as Superman when Jericho dropped a dead pigeon on the floor.

I was about to scold him when the bird cooed. As I froze, I realized the pigeon was definitely not dead.

I knelt on the floor beside it and pushed Jericho’s nose away. A closer inspection revealed it had a hurt wing. I led Jericho away from the bird and told him to stay, and then I went and got a towel and a box. I put the towel in the box and then gently moved the creature inside.

The phone rang, and I lightly carried the box to a table and set it down. Picking up the phone, I said, “Hello.”

“Clark!” Lois said, sounding surprised I had answered. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Lois,” I returned in amusement. Was she expecting me to be out doing something? And why was she calling, anyway?

“Umm. So…how’s it going?” she asked awkwardly.

I looked at the box on my table. “Oh, all right, I guess. You don’t happen to know anything about hurt birds, do you? Jericho found a bird with a hurt wing, and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Actually, I do know something about birds. I — well, I raised exotic birds in high school.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise. “I didn’t know that.” It seemed she was full of surprises.

“Yeah. I did it to make money. I wasn’t sure if my dad would pay for college like he said he would, so I decided I might as well go for it.”

I smiled to myself. “I didn’t know you had a fondness for birds.”

“I don’t,” she returned wryly. “I just wasn’t allowed to have a dog.” I could hear something shifting in the background. “Just hang on. I’ll be over soon.”

I hung up the phone and put it aside. I checked on the pigeon, which seemed to be okay, but Jericho was staring hopefully upward at it.

“I’m not going to let you eat it,” I told him firmly. “So go lay down.”

Whimpering, he looked toward the couch and then toward me. I repeated myself, and then he reluctantly obeyed.

I sat down and waited.

***

When Lois arrived, she was the epitome of preparation. She had a box which contained vet tape, scissors, a small bird cage, birdseed, and two shallow dishes. I raised an eyebrow and took the box from her. “You don’t do things halfheartedly, do you?”

“Never,” she replied, bending to pet Jericho. He was happily greeting her and starting to jump up on her legs.

“Jericho, get down,” I warned him. “Go take a nap.”

He wagged his tail a few more times before disappearing into my bedroom. I smiled and set the box down. He really was a smart dog. Not always obedient, but he minded when it counted.

Lois examined the bird briefly and then got to work. I watched in interest as she cut about eleven inches of tape. Then she moved back to the bird, working carefully. She secured the broken wing against its body in a natural position, wrapping the tape on the outside of the broken wing and around the body under the bird’s healthy wing and finally securing the tape to itself. As she finished, she told me, “Fill one of the dishes no more than a third of an inch deep with water.”

As I moved to oblige her, I hazarded, “So the bird won’t drown?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “His mobility is going to be limited, so you’ll have to be careful.”

I filled the dish as instructed, and she put the pigeon in the bottom of the bird cage along with some birdseed and the water dish. “We’ll need to change the tape weekly. Hopefully, we will be able to stop in about three weeks. Then, after the wing is healed, we can let the bird learn how to fly again. If he seems to be doing well, then we can let him free.”

While she was talking, there was a passionate flare in her eyes. When she went in for something, she really did go in all the way. Her passion was admirable, inspiring, and…sexy.

I swallowed, my heartbeat suddenly going a hundred miles an hour. “You’re amazing,” I told her. I meant to add a comment specifically about her bird knowledge, but the words were lost in my simple realization of just how truly amazing she was.

We both reached for the birdseed bag to seal it, and our hands accidentally touched. There was a sudden flare of heat between us, like a spark of electricity arcing from one body to another. Our eyes met again, and we were suddenly pressed together in a passionate kiss. The flames of desire roared in my ears as I relished the taste, feel, pressure of Lois’s lips against mine, the blazing inferno of our need becoming something almost palpable as we enjoyed this simple act. And then we were all hands and lips, touching each other and kissing and tugging at each other’s shirts. She got my shirt off — ripping off a few of the buttons — and I finally succeeded in removing hers. I felt the press of her chest against mine, and as my fingers crept up her back to meet with her bra clasp, she began fumbling at my pants. And then I realized what we were doing and froze.

“Lois,” I said hoarsely. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me with sultry eyes. I could feel my resolve slipping as fear set in, and I closed my eyes. “I can’t do this with you.”

The flames between us were suddenly doused, and I could sense her backing away. I opened my eyes, and she managed, “I see,” her lips trembling and her face red. Then she was scrambling to put her shirt on as she fled toward the door.

“Lois!” I called out after her, but she ignored me and ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

I sat on my couch, suddenly numb, and buried my face in my arms, my fingers lacing themselves in my hair. I had almost made one of the biggest mistakes in my life. And now…well, now it would be a miracle if Lois would ever talk to me again.

I grabbed the phone and sat it beside me, ready to call Lois after giving her enough time to get home. Jericho came into the room with an inquisitive look, and I called him over to me. He got up in my lap, and I hugged him against me. When he licked my face, I gave him a sad smile and whispered to him, “Jericho, I might have just ruined everything.”

He placed a paw against my chest, looking concerned, and I sighed. “Thanks, buddy.”

I finally got up the nerve to call Lois, but I only received her answering machine. If she was home, she wasn’t picking up.

“I guess I’ll just wait till tomorrow to talk to her,” I sullenly told Jericho, who nudged my chest with his nose.

What if I really had ruined everything?

***

Chapter 32: All I Needed Was the Rain

I’m ‘bout as low as I can go.

I don’t really mean to complain.

Now all I needed was the rain.

Rain, rain, rain, rain.

— “All I Needed Was the Rain”

***

The next day at work, Lois refused to talk to me about anything but business. It was a step up from not talking to me at all — sort of — but it still made me miserable. I tried several times to get her to go into the conference room with me, but she absolutely refused. And anytime I began a sentence with “Lois, I’m sorry,” she would speak loudly over me.

I growled beneath my breath after one final such attempt and then returned to my computer. I looked up as I saw Jimmy passing by, and then I frowned as I noticed the bags under his eyes. “Hey, Jimmy — you okay?”

“Huh?” he mumbled, glancing around in confusion. Then he realized where the noise had come from and turned his attention to me. “Oh, hi, C.K. Sorry — I’m exhausted. I had to get a second job, and I haven’t gotten much sleep.”

“A second job?” I frowned. “Why?”

He shrugged. “The rent at my apartment went up. My Planet salary just wouldn’t cut it.”

“Why don’t you ask Perry for a raise?” I suggested. If Perry knew about Jimmy’s situation, he wouldn’t have said no. I was confident in that.

Jimmy gave a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, right. I’d sooner poke a sleeping bear.” He sighed. “I’m just a gopher. There’s no reason for him to give me a raise.”

I tilted my head. “Jimmy, why don’t you try to push for better assignments than pet shows and mall openings? It couldn’t hurt.” I knew Jimmy was capable of greater things — I had seen small glimpses of his potential throughout my time with the Planet. In the story he had written about Lex Luthor, he had really shined.

“I don’t know, C.K.,” he said unconfidently. “I don’t think it’d work.”

“Jimmy — ” I tried, but he just walked away. I sighed to myself. I felt sorry for Jimmy — he deserved more. Something needed to be done.

I moved my eyes to Perry’s office, which an annoyed Ralph was coming out of. I stood and passed Ralph, who was muttering to himself, and I entered the Editor-in-Chief’s office.

“Hey, uh, Chief?” I ventured.

Perry White looked up from his desk. “Oh, hi, Clark.” He gestured for me to come forward.

“Did, uh — did you know Jimmy got a second job?” I asked as I shut the door. I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation.

He frowned. “No, I didn’t know that.”

I shifted my feet. “Apparently, the rent at his apartment has gone up.”

“Well, I wonder why he didn’t tell me?” Perry mused. He seemed genuinely puzzled, and I could guess why — he thought of Jimmy as a son, and a son should have been able to go to his father for help.

But I couldn’t say that, so I simply pointed out with a wry smile, “You do like the smell of fear in the newsroom.”

He laughed. “I guess I do. But Jimmy, he’s — well, he’s like a son to me.” And there it was — the admission. But I wasn’t the one who needed to hear it.

“Why don’t you tell him that?” I asked him.

Perry raised an eyebrow. “That isn’t just something you can tell someone.” Obviously uncomfortable, he crossed his arms and gave me a searching look. “By the way, Clark — is there something going on between you and Lois?”

I slumped in my chair. “Is it that obvious?”

“I didn’t become Chief Editor of the Planet just because I can make a mean jambalaya,” he returned knowingly. “Care to tell me about it, son?”

I exhaled in frustration. “It looks like I’ve upset her beyond repair. I’ve tried to apologize, but she just keeps shutting me down. I just don’t know what to do.”

“When a woman gets like this, there’s only one thing you can do.”

I lifted my head. “And what’s that?” I was desperate.

“Grovel,” he said firmly. “Unless you do that, there’s no gettin’ past the defenses that have shot up. Even then, it’s hit or miss — you just gotta keep trying until she gets so annoyed she has no choice but to let you in.”

I shook my head with a grin. “If only it was that easy.” Somehow, I didn’t think annoying Lois Lane was the way to get back on her good side.

“Ha!” Perry laughed. “I know what you mean.” He tapped his pen on the desk. “So, if Lois is mad at you, does that mean you’re free this weekend? I’m going fishing, and it just isn’t the same without a partner.”

“Why don’t you take Jimmy?” I suggested. It would be the perfect opportunity for Jimmy and Perry to bond. Maybe then they would actually talk. They were evidently suffering from a communications breakdown.

The Chief Editor looked a little reluctant. “Oh, I’m sure a kid like him wouldn’t want to go fishing with an old codger like me.”

“You should try him,” I told Perry with a smile. I was almost positive Jimmy would accept.

I was about to walk out when Perry something that made me pause.

“So, Cat turned in her resignation today — mentioned something about grooming. You didn’t, uh, have something to do with this, did you?”

I ducked my head, feeling both pleased and guilty. “I, ah, might have.”

Chuckling, Perry said, “Thank you, son. That woman needed a better life.”

I smiled at him, glad he wasn’t upset. “I know.”

I was grateful that my attempt at intervention had been successful — knowing that Cat was doing something better with her life helped lift my spirits. Now, I just had to repair the rift between Lois and me.

***

That night, I went with Jericho to Lois’s apartment building after he and I practiced our plan of action. From a few feet down the hall, I directed Jericho to Lois’s door.

He trotted up to the door and scratched at it persistently. When Lois finally opened the door, she looked down at him. He had in his mouth a bouquet of chocolate flowers which had been carefully wrapped in plastic so as to defuse drool. She bent and took the flowers from Jericho’s mouth and said in a loud voice, “All right, Clark. Come out from hiding.”

Nervous but hopeful, I approached her. “Can I — can I come in?”

“I guess,” she said reluctantly. “But for the dog’s sake — not yours.” She was certainly not giving up any ground yet.

“That works, I guess,” I mumbled, following Jericho inside. But whereas his tail was wagging happily, I felt as if I were walking in with my figurative tail between my legs.

Lois motioned for me to sit on the couch, which I did, but she remained standing. She set the chocolate flowers down on the counter and then looked at me with crossed arms. “What is it?”

All my plans suddenly seemed daunting, but I reminded myself I needed to move forward if I wanted her to continue speaking to me. “I wanted — I wanted you to know something about…about what happened.” It was about time we talked about the elephant in the room. Avoiding it had gone on long enough.

“Go on,” she said flatly. She obviously wasn’t going to be giving me any help.

I took in a deep breath. This was awkward, but it needed to be said. “You know the, uh — the intimacy threshold?” At her curt nod, I continued, “Well, I’ve never actually…crossed it.” I swallowed and looked down at my hands. “I’ve been waiting for intimacy until — until marriage.” That was the nicest way to put it, even if it wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t ever expect to marry — and so I never planned to cross that threshold. I just didn’t know how I would behave in an intimate setting. Would I go out of control? There was always the meteor rock, of course, to serve as a precaution, but…was that a way to live?

Lois’s eyes were wide, and her surprise was obvious. “It, uh, it makes sense that you’re a v — a very patient man because of…because of.…”

“My past phobia,” I offered, looking up at her.

“Yeah. That.” She hugged her arms against herself and looked at the floor. “I thought you believed there was…something wrong with me.”

I felt a pain inside. How could she possibly have thought that? “Lois — there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re an amazing woman. And you always will be.”

Uncomfortable with my praise, she gave me a half smile and looked at Jericho, who was staring up at her in hopes of receiving some attention. “How did you convince him not to eat the chocolate?”

“He’s well trained,” I told her, watching as she scratched Jericho behind his ears.

“Who trained him? Superman?”

I faltered, glad she wasn’t looking at me. If I claimed Superman trained the dog and Lois asked him — well, me — about it, then I wouldn’t have the first clue as to how to respond to any questions about dog training. I could ask Mom to give me a crash course on training, but …

I looked at Lois, who was still scratching Jericho, and I decided to tell her part of the truth. “I got the dog from Keira Fisher. I talked with Superman and my parents about him, and Superman flew him to Smallville for my mom to train him, though of course I don’t want anyone else to know that.” I sighed and examined my hands, which weren’t as fascinating as I was pretending they were. “Really, Jericho is a unique case among the Sallya Technologies experiments. His intelligence was drastically increased, so he was really easy for my mom to train. But if anyone found out my mom helped with Krypto’s training, then my parents might be at risk — people might think they’re connected to Superman.…” Somehow, my explanation had become more of a ramble, and I was beginning to turn red. It didn’t help that my parents actually were connected to Superman. I felt like I was giving away too much.

“I won’t print anything,” Lois said softly. She sounded thoughtful, and I looked at her in curiosity. But she was avoiding my eyes.

I felt awkward just sitting there in her apartment. I had received her forgiveness and told her about a private part of my life. However, if anything, she seemed to be clamming up because of it all rather than opening up.

Sighing and figuring she probably just wanted some privacy, I stood up. “I guess — I guess I should tell you ‘goodnight.’”

She looked at me, that pensive expression still on her face. “Goodnight to you, too, Clark. And thanks for the chocolate.”

“You’re welcome, Lois,” I told her.

But as she shut the door behind me, I saw a flicker of that strange fire in her eyes which always ignited when she was hot on the trail of a story. There was a strange part of me that wondered — feared — that the story was me. But I dismissed the thought as implausible. She was just thinking about Jericho. That was all.

***

The next day at work, however, Lois was acting strange. She was still pensive, but she had also become a little absentminded, and she kept giving me weird looks. After a little thought, I decided to cook dinner for her to “help make up” for upsetting her. When I made the suggestion to Lois, she agreed I could come, and I was glad — not because I was going to spend time with her, though that was a bonus, but because I might be able to figure out what was occupying her mind.

I went to her apartment after work with a bag of food. When she opened the door, she smiled at me and motioned me inside. “You know where the kitchen is.”

Chuckling to myself, I went into the kitchen and put my bag on the counter. Then I began dinner preparations.

Finally, I slipped the pan of chicken pizza roll-ups into the oven and went to sit on the couch. Lois disappeared into the bathroom, and my eyes idly fell on the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of me. There was a paper jammed underneath it, and I picked it up in morbid curiosity, wondering why it had been so hastily concealed. When I unfolded the paper, I fully expected it to be notes on the story she was avoiding telling me about. What I saw, however, caused my heart to stop.

At the top of the paper, it said:

CK = S

It could have been an innocuous enough message if that was all there was, but beneath those four characters was a long list of reasons supporting Lois’s theory that Clark Kent was Superman. I had been wrong to dismiss the notion that I was the story. It was all here in black and white.

I read the list at super speed, my pulse pounding through my veins and my throat feeling like it was filled with cotton balls. Some supporting reasons included the Krypto/Jericho connection (and his training), the coinciding nature of my increased tolerance to touch with the appearance of Superman (plus a few possible reasons for me having such a phobia in the first place), my frequent disappearances, my story choice for the Star Wars fanzine, my similar appearance to Superman, the broken locks that seemed prolific when I went investigating with Lois, the fact that she hadn’t seen us in the same place at once, my convenient rescues of her (including when I rescued her from nearly being mowed down by a car).… There were even more reasons listed, some of which were spot-on and some of which were farfetched. But if one thing was clear from that piece of paper…it was that I was in big trouble.

I heard Lois’s footsteps approaching, and I quickly put the piece of paper back where it had been before. I smiled at her when she entered the room, but I was shaken inside.

“It smells good,” she commented.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. But not even a good dinner would be able to make me recover. What in the world was I going to do?

***

That night, after checking on the injured bird, I flew to my parents’ house in a panic. Fortunately, they hadn’t gone to bed yet.

“Clark? What is it?” Mom asked when she saw me.

“I’m in trouble,” I said, not mincing words. I proceeded to fill them in on what had happened, and when I was done, I told them, “I have to figure out a way to make Lois think I’m not Superman. Maybe…maybe a lookalike agency would be good…or…a hologram.…” My mind was swirling with ideas.

Mom frowned, not understanding what the problem was. “Why? You don’t think she’d write a story about it, do you?”

“Of course not,” I replied with confidence. “But someone who found out about her knowledge could use her against me. It would put her in danger.”

Dad crossed his arms. “I hate to break it to you, Clark, but anyone can be used against you. If you heard a stranger was kidnapped, would you be less likely to save them than Lois?”

I frowned. “Well, no, but — ”

“Then don’t pretend that is the reason you don’t want Lois to know about you,” Mom admonished. With pursed lips, she asked me, “What is the reason, Clark?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a vision of Lois in my mind’s eye. “I’m afraid I might hurt her. Or she could even end up hurting herself.” If either of those things happened, it would destroy me. I opened my eyes. “If she knew her partner was Superman, she would probably start taking more risks.”

Mom shrugged. “She may start taking more risks — but she also might be more likely to let you in on what she is doing. I know I’ve heard you complain a few times about Lois rushing into danger without telling you anything about it.”

I wanted to argue with her. The thought of Lois getting hurt was enough to make me become extremely irrational. But recognizing that was progress, right?

I thought about what Mom had just said. It was difficult keeping up with Lois sometimes. But there was a chance she might see the perks of having Superman as a partner — and she might keep me more in on the loop.

“Maybe you’re right, Mom,” I admitted with a sigh. It was hard to let go of those fears when I had clutched them to myself for so long. “It’s been hard living this lie with her. At least now I can explain why I can’t be in a relationship with her.”

Mom’s face soured, but Dad nodded and gave her a warning look. “If that’s what you want, son. We won’t argue with you anymore.” He put an arm around Mom, and she put her head on his shoulder.

An ache of longing welled up within me, but I pushed it aside. I had a set path in life, and I couldn’t deviate from it. No matter how good it had felt to kiss Lois Lane.

***

Chapter 33: Sometimes, I Think I Want

Sometimes, I think I want;

Then again, I think I don’t.

Sometimes, I want to stay here;

Then again, I want to leave here.

— “I Feel so Bad”

***

I flew to Metropolis and stood in front of the door to Lois’s apartment for ten minutes before I was actually able to gather the courage to knock. When she opened the door, I swept inside, speaking a hundred miles an hour. “I know that you know. Don’t ask how I know, but I know. Okay, so I might have looked at something it wasn’t my business looking at, but there it is.”

She raised an eyebrow and shut the door. “And I thought I babbled.” She crossed her arms and pinned me with a look. “I assume we’re talking about how you moonlight in tights?”

I sighed, feeling as if a sword had been shoved into my chest. “Yes. And I guess the first question I need to ask you is…’How mad are you?’”

“Am I mad? Yes. But am I so mad that I am going to kick you out of here instead of getting answers to my questions? No. And stop pacing before you wear a hole in the floor!”

I reluctantly slowed, looked around, and then sat on the couch. “What’s your first question?” I asked, feeling miserable. At least she hadn’t made me leave.

“Were you the Black Knight?”

Naturally, she had to ask that question first. The urge was strong to deny it — but to what end? My biggest secrets were now out in the open between us, so there seemed to be little point in hiding anything else from her. Looking down at my feet and shuffling them, I admitted, “Yes.”

“Why did you lie to me — to the public — about that?”

I wrung my hands. “I didn’t initially mean to do all this…to be Superman. And so the Black Knight seemed like he had something to hide — which he did.… Which I did. But I didn’t want Superman to seem like that. I just wanted to be able to lead a semi-normal life — ”

“To lead two lives, you mean,” she inserted grouchily.

I shook my head. “That’s just it, Lois. Superman isn’t a person — he’s just something I can do. He’s a way for me to use my powers to help people. And that’s all he does — he doesn’t have a life. He doesn’t exist.”

She stared intently at me and took a few steps toward the couch. “Clark, I could feel your passion on Christmas when you kissed me. But I could also sense how reluctant you felt — and I wondered if it was because of the touch phobia…or because there was something else that made you hesitate.”

I opened my mouth to assure her it wasn’t that, but then she put up her hand to stop me from speaking.

“Did — did you not want a relationship with me because I didn’t know you were Superman?” she asked me.

I shook my head, feeling uncomfortable. “No. That’s not it.”

Lois looked down at her hands, a few of her fingers twitching.

I somehow knew what her next question was, and I hoped she wouldn’t ask it. But of course, she did.

“It is because you are Superman?”

A great gulf of silence opened between us. Lies and truths warred in my head once again. But hadn’t I lied enough to her? Didn’t she deserve only the truth from now on?

I finally whispered, “Yes. I’m — I’m so afraid, Lois. I’m afraid I could…hurt you.” Just the thought of her broken body beside me was almost enough to break my heart.

Her head shot up. “Clark, we’ve touched so many times,” she told me, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You haven’t hurt me before — you’re the gentlest man I’ve ever met.”

“But Lois — ” I cut off and averted my eyes. My fear rose to the surface, and I finally allowed it to bubble out: “What if — what about intimate situations? What if I can’t…restrain my powers? Lois, the thought of accidentally hurting someone — of hurting you…And there is the meteor rock, but…”

I wasn’t being very coherent, and Lois questioned, “The what? The ‘meteor rock’?”

I winced, my hand coming up to clutch the locket she had given me. “I do have one weakness. When I…came to Earth, these green meteor rocks came with me. When I’m exposed to them, they can take away all my powers and even…kill me. Before I became Superman, I used the meteor rock to take away my powers so I wouldn’t hurt people. But they always came back. That’s why I kept a shard of the rock in my locket…and that’s why I was so upset when my first locket was destroyed.”

Lois frowned, still not understanding. “Why did you ever think you would hurt people?”

I exhaled heavily and stood, walking to the window to look outside at nothing in particular. As I flashed back to that terrible revelatory day, I began, “It’s all because of Africa.”

***

When I woke up in my bed in the morning, my head felt as if it were enshrouded in a cloud. It was only with extreme difficulty that I was able to remember any of what had happened the previous night.

I mentally traced that day from class to the Lion Park, from the car with Billy and Kenny to the hoodoo practitioner, and from the hoodoo practitioner to Constance. But all I could remember about what had happened when Constance and I were alone was something shiny.

I was disturbed, but I tried to clear my mind. Maybe I would start to remember things more clearly as the day went on.

I got up out of bed and stretched, thinking this was maybe one downside to not having a roommate: not knowing how you had gotten back home. But I wouldn’t change the situation. My parents and I always purposefully strove to ensure I was put in a single dorm room. Occasionally, I floated in my sleep, and that would have been an incredibly awkward conversation to have with anyone who didn’t know my secret. So, I was best off as I was.

I looked at my watch and grimaced. It was almost time for class.

I was dressed and out the door in a matter of five seconds. I sped outside the dormitory — or “res,” as they called it in South Africa — and jogged to the building where my class was. After entering the building, I noticed a commotion in the hallway. Seeing Anthony and Kenny talking, I hurried toward them.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Kenny turned to Anthony and waggled his eyebrows. “Anthony, you know what? You remind me of the babe.”

“Babe — what babe?”

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“The power of hoodoo.”

“Who do?”

“You do.”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe!”

I cleared my throat, and the two turned toward me. “I hate to break up your Labyrinth party, but what’s going on?”

Anthony answered, “Seems a hoodoo-doer was mysteriously killed, and the police aren’t telling anyone anything. I bet Kenny she was offed by a jealous ex-lover. What do you think?”

“I think I need to go,” I murmured, finding myself suddenly filled with dread. Were they talking about the woman I had seen the day before? How many other hoodoo practitioners were there nearby? It wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

Giving them a halfhearted wave goodbye, I turned and looked for Constance. She was about to disappear into a classroom, and I called out her name and jogged over to her.

She brightened upon seeing me. “Clark.”

I wasn’t nearly so cheerful. “Can I talk to you over there?” I nodded with my head toward a window at the end of the hall where there wasn’t much foot traffic.

“Anything you want, Clark,” she said demurely.

We walked to the area I had designated, and I wasted no time in getting to the point. “I think I killed that woman.”

“Clark, that’s crazy,” she asserted. She began to turn away, but I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She hadn’t asked what I was talking about, and it worried me.

“It’s not crazy. I don’t remember what I did last night.”

She shook her head. “Clark, trust me. That’s nonsense.”

“Do you know what happened?” I asked, pinning her with a hard look.

She lowered her eyes guiltily.

“Oh, no,” I whispered in a choked voice as my heart fell into my feet. It must have been me. I must have killed that woman somehow. Why else would she be avoiding looking at me?

Was this…this blackout a natural part of my development as…whatever I was? Was it going to start happening frequently now? How could I have killed someone in cold blood without remembering it?

In a daze, I murmured, “I have to — to go tell someone.”

I walked away from her. I heard her following me, but I didn’t pay her any attention. I was too caught up in the horror of what I had done.

Before I knew it, I was out of the building and standing in front of a policeman who was looking at a parked car.

“Officer,” I said quietly, getting the man’s attention. “I think I killed that woman.” I needed to do time for my crime. I had to make up for this somehow. If I was a murderer, then I deserved to be treated as one. And if I was locked away, then I wouldn’t be able to harm anyone else. It was all for the best.

The policeman turned to me with an utterly confused expression. “What?”

“The woman who died — the hoodoo woman — I think I killed her, but I…I just can’t remember.”

He crossed his arms, looking skeptical. “Look, kid, I heard about what happened to that body — no man could have done that. Don’t waste my time.”

I was beginning to get agitated. “Officer, you’re wrong. I am strong enough to have done it. I may not look it, but — ”

“Only a vicious and bloodthirsty animal would be capable of mutilating that woman like that,” the officer insisted. Then his mouth became a thin line, as if he had said too much.

My heart felt as if it had caved in. A vicious and bloodthirsty animal. Is that what I have become? I wondered. Is that what I am?

I was the strongest living thing on Earth. I had known that for a while. I was strong enough to pinch off a patch of someone’s skin, tear away a person’s arm, or even smash a body to the ground with more force than they would’ve gotten from jumping off the highest building in the world. My breath caught in my throat as a flash of what the woman’s body could look like went through my head. Bruised, broken, battered, bloodied, maimed, mutilated…I could have done worse things to her than any natural or artificial thing on Earth.

I was worse than a vicious and bloodthirsty animal if I had killed her…mutilated her like that.… If I had done that…then I was a monster.

Constance, whose presence I had almost forgotten, spoke up. “He wasn’t the one who did it. I did it.”

I turned to her. “What?”

“Look, kids,” the officer cut in, “I can’t tell you anything else about what happened, but I can assure you this: neither of you killed that woman. No man or woman on earth could have done that. You two must have just had a little too much to drink last night.”

No man or woman on Earth, I thought. But that’s not what I am. I’m a monster.

A great sense of self-loathing welled up within me, and I began, “I didn’t drink anything — ”

“Just move along, kid. You won’t be able to convince anyone you did it.”

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him he didn’t know me like he thought he did, but I strove to remain calm. “Can I see the body?”

“No,” the policeman answered flatly. “The mystery is solved, and the case is closed. Now, beat it, you two.”

I watched as he left. Desperation clenched my gut and twisted it. I needed to see that body — I needed more information.

Could I really have killed her and not known it? I wondered. What exactly happened last night?

The idea to bribe the policeman for more information came to me. But I didn’t have any money, and the notion of bribing a policeman was too corrupt a move for me to stomach it. The man was just doing his job. There was no need to try to tempt him.

Trying to control my breathing and prevent myself from having a panic attack, I turned to Constance. “Constance, there’s something I need to know.… Did you do anything to me last night?”

“No, Clark,” she said in a strained voice as she avoided looking at me. “Why would I — ” But she cut herself off and raised her eyes to meet mine. “Clark, I’m sorry.… I did hypnotize you. I knew I shouldn’t have — but I just couldn’t help myself. But Clark, you didn’t kill that woman.”

I gave her a hard look. Despite the mix of pain and love in her eyes, I realized I couldn’t believe anything she said. Mumbling something about not feeling good, I turned and left her. I could feel her gaze following my form the whole way. But one brutal thought kept running through my head: I am a monster.

***

I went outside the morgue to look for the body — but I couldn’t remember exactly what the woman had looked like. She had dark skin and long hair…and that was all I could recall. When I x-rayed the building, I couldn’t find any female body that looked like it had been monstrously beaten by someone with superhuman strength. I wasn’t even sure if her body had been moved to that particular morgue — maybe she had already been placed in a coffin or cremated.

All I knew was I couldn’t remember much about what had happened after Constance had pulled out that gleaming item which must have been her pocket watch.

I returned to my room and sat on my bed.

I had always thought of my powers as something that set me apart from others — something that made me different from other people. But I had never really thought about them in terms of their destructive capabilities.

I had done a lot of small things with my powers: quickly clean my room, light a fire for my parents, lift a tractor out of the mud.… I had used them for nobler purposes a few times, of course, but none of it had ever seemed to point to any greater goal. My goal had been to hide what I could do. I had never thought — apart from when my powers first started making themselves known — that I would have a problem controlling what I could do.

But now I could finally see things with a disturbing clarity. As I was now, I was a danger to the world. I might have ripped the life out of a woman with my bare hands — and if I had, she would have been completely powerless against my far superior strength. My powers could render her utterly unrecognizable with barely any exertion on my part.

I stood and walked over to my dresser and started removing items. I could pack at a speed much quicker than humans could, but I didn’t. There was just one last act I wanted to perform with my powers…and then…then I had to prevent my powers from ever being used to hurt anyone else. The best option was probably going to be cutting myself off from the world entirely.

I couldn’t take the risk that I would lose control ever again.

I decided not to say goodbye to my friends. They would assume I had gotten sick again, and they probably wouldn’t check up on me until the next day. They would still have expected me to be around.

But when the brilliant eye that was the African sun peeked over the horizon the next day, I was long since gone. Had anyone chosen to investigate my absence, they would have discovered that Clark Jerome Kent was not registered on any airline flight.

***

“After I learned that woman had died, I wanted to hide myself away from everyone, but my parents were so against that idea that I decided to use the meteor rock to take away my powers,” I told Lois, daring to glance into her eyes, which were still steadily gazing at me. So far, I had seen nothing to suggest that what I’d told her disgusted her, and it gave me a strange sort of hope.

I could still remember with awful vividness that fight I had had with my parents about my decision. But I had been unrelenting. I had known that I was a danger to everyone because of my powers — I had known that it was either cut myself off from all humans or make myself just as weak as them. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I had hurt or killed a person. It was bad enough when I couldn’t remember hurting anyone and I was left with only the brutish pictures of my imagination and nightmares — if I had ever been conscious while hurting another living being, it would have completely destroyed me.

“I know now that I didn’t kill her,” I continued, turning toward Lois. “But I didn’t know it at the time — and the thought that someone could control me like I believed Constance had was terrifying. I couldn’t let myself keep these powers unless I could be certain that I would always maintain control over them. I saw them as a curse…until you came along.” I gave her a small smile. “You helped me realize that my powers could be a gift — I could use them to bring hope instead of destruction. That was a hard realization to make. But I finally decided to stop using the shard to take away my powers. The lead paint on the locket blocked the shard’s effects until I opened it. And I had to open it every day to ensure I was without my powers.”

“Clark — ”

“But even if I can use my abilities for good,” I continued, cutting her off, “I still have to be careful. I need to remain calm and collected when I save people. But I couldn’t be that way in…bed.” The last word was spoken softly.

“Clark, you’re an idiot.”

“What?” I asked stupidly, blinking at her.

“You say that you remain calm and collected — but I know you’re affected any time you see someone suffering, even if you try to hide it. I know you would be just as unlikely to hurt a…a lover…as you would a child you were removing from the wreckage of a car.” She crossed her arms. “And besides, shouldn’t it be the choice of your…your lover…whether or not she wanted to be put at risk — if indeed there is a risk? Isn’t it unfair for one person to make all the decisions in a relationship?”

Protesting, I said, “Lois — ”

“Clark,” she cut me off. “Not even Superman can stand alone.” She gave me a stern glance.

I looked down at my hands uncomfortably. I had been trying to stand alone for so long — it was difficult to think about leaning on others again. But I did want to. I really did.

“So, you…kept that poisonous stone in your locket?” she asked me, staring at my necklace.

I winced. “Yes.”

“And it…hurts you?”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

Lois hesitated. “I guess…I guess I understand why you used it. It must have been hard to think you had…killed someone like that.”

I closed my eyes, my chest feeling tight. “You have no idea.” All those years of anguish — it had been pure torture.

She touched my arm, and I opened my eyes, strangely surprised by the sensation.

“Thank you for telling me about all this, Clark,” she told me.

I gave her a small smile. “It feels good to tell you things.” It was the truth. It felt wonderful to no longer be hiding anything from her.

“I’m glad.” She crossed her arms. “Because you’re going to be telling me a lot of other things in the future.”

“Lois — ”

“Clark,” she returned, her gaze still on the locket. She abruptly stepped forward and put her arms around my neck.

“Lois?” I asked in confusion, resisting the urge to step backward.

And then she had unclasped the locket and was clutching it in her hand.

“Lois — ” I said, feeling the rise of panic.

“It’s okay, Clark. You don’t need that shard anymore. You can trust yourself.”

I stared at her, protests caught in my throat. But as she stared at me with that characteristic fire in her eyes, I forced myself to simply accept the loss of the locket. There was no need for me to wear it. And though the loss of my grandmother’s picture might be a little saddening, I had other pictures of her. It was time to let the shard go.

I gave Lois a half smile, but before I could say anything, Lois was telling me, “But you can’t just take everything on yourself, Clark. For a relationship to work, both people have to be involved in decisions.”

But the fear of hurting her still gripped at my heart, and I whispered, “Lois — ”

“Clark, just go home and think about it.”

“Lois — ” I tried again.

“I said go home and think about it.”

I sighed, poised to argue with her, but she looked so resolute that I finally turned and walked to the door. “Goodnight, Lois.”

I went home, but I didn’t get much sleep that night. I kept running into the same question: Was Lois right that I shouldn’t be making the decision by myself that we couldn’t be in a relationship? I didn’t know the answer. But the more I thought about having a future with Lois, the more I knew that it was what I wanted more than anything else in the world.

***

Chapter 34: That Magic Hour of Bliss

This could be the kiss

To unlock heaven’s door,

That magic hour of bliss

That we both waited for.

— “Tonight is so Right for Love”

***

The next day, I was continuing to contemplate the future, but I still remained undecided about whether I should be in a relationship with Lois Lane.

Lois and I worked together as usual, but I sensed we had entered a pause of sorts…an interval that screamed “unfinished business.” The next step belonged to me. The figurative ball was in my court.

The problem was I was no closer to a decision than I had been when I left Lois’s apartment the night before. My confidence in my ability to make good choices was close to zero considering my batting average. Choosing to expose myself to poison every day? Though born of desperation and misinformation, that had been a spectacularly stupid plan of action.…

And this time, there was something else at stake. This time, my decision affected Lois as well.… And if there was one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world, it was to keep from hurting her.

Lunchtime was approaching when a woman came storming out of Perry’s office. The Editor-in-Chief followed her, calling out, “Alice, sweetheart — ”

But his wife completely ignored him, disappearing inside the elevator without a backwards glance.

When Perry saw everyone looking at him, he bellowed, “What are you all doing standing around like cows out to pasture? Is this a newspaper or a dairy farm? Get back to work!” He disappeared into his office and slammed the door.

I gave him ten minutes to cool down before I went to check on him. I hesitated at the door and decided to knock before entering.

“What?” he growled. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t just burst in.

“Uh, Chief?” I ventured tentatively as I cracked open the door. I felt a little like a mouse facing a great tiger.

Perry looked up from his desk. “Come in,” he said, his voice not as vitriolic.

I went inside and softly shut the door. “Are you okay, Chief?” Judging by his posture and depressed expression, he wasn’t, but I didn’t know what else to say.

He sighed. “It’s Alice. She dropped in on me, wanting to take me to lunch, but I just don’t have the time. She ran out on me, and I knew she was angry, but I never expected.…”

“You never expected what?” I asked gently, fearing the answer.

“I never expected her to call and say she’s leaving me.”

The pain on his face was undeniable. This had to be one of the worst things that had ever happened to Perry White. There were two loves in his life — the Planet and his wife. To have to choose one over the other had to be breaking his heart.

But even if he could accept his defeat, I wasn’t going to. “Are you going to fight for her?” I asked him seriously.

He opened his eyes and laughed bitterly. “Clark, I’ve breathed the Planet for so many years it’s like oxygen to me. I could go up and work with the suits, but that just isn’t me. No, this is it. The game’s called on account of an unweatherable storm.”

“Don’t talk like that, Chief,” I said with as much firmness as I could muster. “What if — what if you got an Assistant Editor-in-Chief of sorts? Someone whose job was specifically to help you with all your tasks — to help take some of the load off?”

He laughed. “Who in the Sam Hill would be willing to do that?”

I had an answer for him. “What about Jimmy? He wants to do more with his life. He never gets to see his father, and he sees you as…well, as a surrogate. I think it would be good for you both.”

Perry raised an eyebrow skeptically. “How could Jimmy help run a newspaper?”

I crossed my arms. “You started out green, too. He just needs a little guidance — I’ve already seen a hint of you in him. It won’t take him long at all to learn how to keep Ralph in line. Remember how well he handled the story about Lex Luthor’s death? He has potential, Chief. And if you had help, you could spend more time with Alice.” But Perry still didn’t look convinced, and I told him, “All Jimmy needs is a good teacher. And that’s what you are. All you need is someone teachable to take some of the load off you. That’s what Jimmy is.”

He tilted his head. “I don’t know, Clark.…”

“If you can realize all your dreams, then you should. Not everyone has that kind of luxury.”

The Chief Editor sighed. “Clark — ”

“Perry,” I returned stubbornly.

He looked down at his blue pencil. “Maybe you’re right. With an assistant, maybe I could even spend some more time with my kids — go on a vacation with them. It’s certainly been a long time since I’ve done that.”

I smiled at him. “Good. Just when you see Alice next, don’t forget to grovel.”

His laughter followed me as I left his office. I hadn’t gone more than a few feet when I paused and stared at Lois’s desk. My conversation with Perry had inspired me. If we didn’t try to keep what was most important to us in life, then what kind of lives would we have? Maybe my fears were valid — and maybe they weren’t. But wasn’t love worth taking a chance for? Wasn’t Lois worth taking a chance for? Lois knew all about me, and she seemed willing to take the chance. Did I want to live a shadow of a life and ignore the desires of the one who made me feel as if I were truly living?

Sometimes, you just needed to move forward. Life was full of bumps and potholes and chasms and mountains and detours. But if you didn’t go forth prepared to face all that, then you weren’t making any progress. It would just be standing still.

My heart pounding in anticipation, I approached Lois’s desk.

The love of my life — the woman I loved with all my heart — looked up at me when I stopped in front of her. “Yes?”

Swallowing, I forced out: “Lois, would you go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

She raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised. “You mean, like a real date, where I spend an hour picking out the right dress, twenty minutes deciding on the right jewelry, and ten minutes over our appointed meeting time working on my makeup? And then where at the end I’m walked up to my door and given a gut-wrenching kiss goodnight? You mean like that kind of date?”

My mouth widened into a goofy grin as I realized my dreams could be coming true. “Yes.”

“Okay. Sure.” She went back to work as if our exchange had been nothing out of the ordinary, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth for the rest of the afternoon.

***

The next day, I was on pins and needles. What if I was making a big mistake? What if Lois went on a date with me and laughed in my face because I was a boring dinner partner? What if I had to dash off in the middle of eating to make a Superman rescue? It had certainly happened enough at lunchtime.

When Perry called me into his office, it just made me even more anxious.

“Sit down, son,” he told me as I stepped inside, and I complied.

I swallowed, resisting the urge to wring my hands. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to know if you knew what you were getting into,” he told me.

“Sir?” I asked in confusion.

“I know.”

“You…know?”

“About your date,” he specified. “Now, I don’t want my best team torn apart by romantic problems. Are you sure you’re in for the long haul? Are you sure the bluebird of happiness will be alighting on your shoulder at last?”

I considered his questions carefully, not wanting to simply give him an easy answer. Was I in for the long haul?

Once Lois Lane had stepped into my life, everything had changed forever. She knew better than anyone how to make my spirits rise and fall. She was the breath of fresh air after a frustrating day, the sun shining down on a frequently cloudy world, the wind beneath my invisible wings.… For me, she was the beginning and end of everything — my life had only truly begun when she entered into it, and it would end if she ever passed from it. The bluebird of happiness had already alighted on my shoulder — and that bluebird’s name was “Lois Lane.”

I smiled at Perry White, my heart soaring now that the load that had been weighing me down was gone. “Yes, I’m sure. I — well, I love her.”

Perry gave a bark of laughter. “Son, about half the newsroom has known that since you knocked her off her feet the first day you came here.”

“What?” I asked, embarrassed.

“It hasn’t been a secret that you two have been mooning after each other.” He shook his head in amusement.

“M-mooning?”

“But the point is…you need to be completely sure.” His expression became stern. “Lois is like a daughter to me, and I want to know you’ll treat her right. Now, think about this long and hard, son.” He pointed his finger at me. “Are you sure you won’t break her heart? Have you, uh — have you told her everything about yourself that she needs to know?”

That was perhaps as close to admitting my secret as Perry had come. “Yes, Perry,” I told him, swallowing. “She knows everything about me that she needs to.”

“Super,” he proclaimed, and I flushed. If I’d had even the tiniest sliver of a doubt before about whether he really knew my secret, it had to be gone now. The Elvis-loving Tennessean did not pepper conversations with the word “super.”

When I left his office, I ran into Jimmy, who was looking happier than I had seen him in a long time. “C.K.!” he exclaimed. “You’ll never believe this. The Chief asked me to be his assistant editor — and I’m going to get a raise like you wouldn’t believe!”

I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s great, Jimmy. I’m glad to hear you’re moving up in the world. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, C.K.,” he replied happily. “And by the way — congrats on your date with Lois. You deserve it.”

I grinned to myself as I watched him bound off. The day was going splendidly, and it had barely begun.

***

That night, I stood outside Lois’s nervously, staring down at my watch.

I had two minutes to stand there and get my bearings. I did a final catalog of my outfit — charcoal suit, freshly pressed white shirt, shining shoes, spot-free glasses, pocket handkerchief, and one of the ties Lois had given me for Christmas — and then inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the freshly bought bouquet of roses I was holding as if it were my lifeline. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous — I saw Lois every day. But there was something different about tonight. Something scary and final and…exhilarating.

I had been holding myself back for so long that it felt wonderful to let myself fall. Lois Lane had caught my heart without even trying. I had been falling ever since I had knocked her to the ground on our first meeting. Little had I known how much my life was going to change in just a short time.

Once, I had avoided human contact and forced myself to hover on the outside. Lois had pulled me in without trying and made me feel like I belonged. I was indebted to her, and I loved her with every fiber of my being. I loved how she would get upset when the store was out of Double Fudge Crunch bars, how she would argue with a ten-year-old who cut in line, how she believed the injustices of the world could be addressed one criminal at a time.… She was everything to me — my savior, my colleague, my friend.…

And soon — soon she might become even more than that. But we would take it one step at a time. And the first step would be me taking her on a date to a small Italian place where I had made a reservation. And to do that, I would have to knock on her door.

Taking in one last deep breath, I lifted my hand and rapped on the wood.

She unlocked the door but didn’t open it. “Come in!” she called out.

Opening the door warily, I looked inside. She had gone back to her bedroom or bathroom, so I just stepped in. I smiled to myself. She had warned me she would spend “ten minutes over our appointed meeting time” doing her makeup. Unfortunately, it just gave me more time to be nervous.

I walked around Lois’s apartment, finally ending up in front of the fish tank. As I stared into the water, fish passing by my vision, I reflected once more on how happy I was to finally be in this position. My stubbornness had held me back — but now I was seeing how so much of that pain hadn’t been necessary. I was ready to move on. Like the pigeon resting at my apartment, Lois had been helping me heal my past injuries. She was the reason I was flying again. There was something sobering yet exciting about that thought.

“You ready?” Lois asked from behind me.

The corners of my mouth lifted. “Yes, I am.” Then I turned around. My breath caught in my throat.

She was wearing a simple but elegant black dress with thin straps. Three strands of pearls were wrapped around her neck, and pearl-drop earrings dangled below her ears. She was absolutely stunning.

“You look…wonderful,” I managed.

Lois smiled at me. “Careful — your farmboy compliments might make me blush.”

I stood there staring at her for a few seconds before she ventured, “Those for me?”

“Huh?” I looked down at the bouquet I was holding. “Oh! Yes. Here.” Abashed, I handed her the roses.

She took them and put them in a vase after filling it with water. “Thank you, Clark. They’re beautiful.”

As she walked back to me, I stepped forward and took both her hands in mine. With careful deliberation — surprised at my daring — I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “No, you’re beautiful, Lois,” I whispered in her ear. I sensed more than saw her shiver, and I took a few steps back, though I still held on to one of her hands. “Let’s go.”

The feel of her fingers seemed to make mine tingle, and I refused to release her hand until we were at the restaurant and had been led to our table.

As I pulled out Lois’s chair for her, she commented, “I was beginning to think you would never let go.”

“I almost didn’t,” I admitted with a smile, sitting down. “I think I’m beginning to get addicted to Lois Lane.”

She laughed. “Better me than drugs or alcohol.”

“Why would I need those when just being with you gets me high?” I asked with a smile. I made a motion with my hand on the table to try to encourage her to lace her fingers with mine.

As she did so, she rolled her eyes. “Enough, Kent. You’re getting too sappy.”

“Clark,” I said softly. “Remember?”

“How could I forget when you’re constantly reminding me?” she returned in good humor.

I just smiled and stared back at her.

Blushing, she ducked her head, her eyes falling on her purse. “Oh, I almost forgot — I have something for you.” She began digging around in her purse. “Close your eyes.”

I grinned, still watching her. I could have done that all night and been content.

When she looked up, she tilted her head. “I thought I told you to close your eyes,” she reprimanded me.

Chuckling, I murmured, “Fine,” and I shut my eyes. Then she told me to hold out my hands, and I did so. And then I heard a tiny jingle and felt the cool sensation of metal against my palms.

Opening my eyes, I saw a locket there. But this one wasn’t white — it was silver. I rubbed a thumb over the locket, a great gladness coming over me. I didn’t know what the contents of this locket were…but I did know that whatever was inside couldn’t hurt me.

“Open it,” Lois said softly, and I obeyed her.

I opened the locket and smiled. Lois had removed the picture of my grandmother from the necklace she’d taken from me and placed it inside on the left side of this new locket. And on the right side, she had placed a picture of her own smiling face.

After gazing downward with great love at those two pictures, I closed the locket and pressed it against my heart, meeting Lois’s eyes with mine. “Thank you,” I whispered. That which had been a symbol of pain and destruction had become a symbol of love and hope, uniting the past with the present and pointing toward the future. “It’s wonderful.”

As I stared at her, I reflected to myself that she was as beautiful as an angel.…

But then I corrected myself mentally. She wasn’t as beautiful as an angel. She was an angel.

***

Our date went perfectly. Superman didn’t have to make an appearance, and we were both delighted when I coaxed a skilled violinist over to our table to serenade us. Dessert was, as my dinner companion proclaimed it, “divine,” and Lois and I talked and laughed as if we had been friends for years. I was so glad to have traded exposure to meteor rock for exposure to Lois Lane. The one drowned me in despair — the other lifted me into orbit. Lois had become everything to me.

After we were done with dinner, I took Lois to her apartment, my head soaring up in the clouds. The sheer joy of being with her and knowing that it could be like this forever was enough to make all my burdens feel light as a feather.

Lois and I stood in front of her door with a strange sense of expectancy. I lifted my hand and caressed her cheek. My throat felt like it was choking up, but I had to speak nonetheless. The words I said next were difficult to get out, but that didn’t diminish how important they were to me. “Lois…I love you so much.”

If my head had been up in the clouds before, it was about to rise up to the moon, as Lois whispered something I had been longing to hear: “I love you, too, Clark.”

Though small, her words were everything I had dreamed of. But I had one final question, one uncertainty that I needed to clear up.

“Clark?” I asked, almost fearing the answer, “or Superman?”

Her initial reaction was surprise mixed with confusion, but that quickly morphed into slight embarrassment. “Clark,” she answered me firmly. “Superman…he was…well, I admit that I was taken in by his powers and his goodness, but then I realized that what I really wanted in a man…were qualities you had.”

I remembered being in her room after her aborted wedding. And I remembered the joy I had felt at her escaping a marriage with Luthor — and the pain I had felt on being convinced that she loved Superman. Dumbfounded as I put the pieces together, I asked, “You meant me?” I shook my head in disbelief. “When you said you were in love with someone else, you meant Clark?”

She nodded, her brow furrowed slightly. “Of course. Who else?”

I stared at her in shock. She had loved me for that long? How I could I have been so blind? “I thought you meant Superman,” I admitted, wanting to kick myself.

She grinned, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. “Well, I suppose I can love him, too — things being what they are.”

My heart was soaring out past the moon now — it was dancing among the stars.

“When did you realize you felt this way?” I murmured, barely able to speak.

“I began to realize my feelings for you around the time Lex proposed,” she said, coloring a little. “When I first met you, you knocked me off my feet literally.” She gave a small nervous laugh, averting her eyes from me, but I lifted her chin to get her to look at me. With a smile, she continued, “My feelings for you were intense from the beginning — I felt like you needed me. It had been so long since anyone had, and it felt good. But when I realized how much I needed you, it terrified me. Somehow, I knew you were hiding something from me, though I didn’t know what it was. But despite that, I felt so strongly for you.… Yet your former phobia of touch worried me almost as much as the strength of my feelings. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a relationship with me, and I didn’t want to feel pain like that Claude had caused me ever again. Surely, you could see how awkward I was around you.…”

I looked down at my feet, a bit abashed, and I mumbled, “I was just trying to keep you from noticing how awkward I felt around you.” I finally brought my eyes back up to meet hers.

She gave me a crooked smile. “Well…Lex offered a safe choice for me, so I took it. With him, I would be following my head rather than my heart. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me the way a rejection from you would have. But when I walked down the aisle to marry him, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t marry him because I was utterly in love with you.”

“You called off your wedding for me?” I asked in amazement as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Luthor had actually been right when he blamed me for his having been left at the altar? “Because you loved me?”

Lois’s mouth quirked upward in a grin. “Don’t sound so surprised. You are occasionally lovable.…”

“Just occasionally?” I returned in a murmur. But I quickly sobered, thinking of the needlessly torturous journey I had been on. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a doofus,” I mumbled. I really had made everything so much harder than necessary. But we had at last ended up like this. Despite all my fumbling and all my mistakes, it seemed things were just as Constance had said: some things were meant to be. My joy in that fact was beyond articulation.

Lois, oblivious to my thoughts, chuckled. “I love you because you’re a doofus.”

Though I smiled back at her, I felt an intense seriousness descend upon me. “Do you think this — this thing between us will last forever?” I asked her, rubbing my thumb across her cheek. I almost feared her reply — wondered if I would be scaring her away.

But when she answered, I knew it was with all of her heart: “Yes.”

I threw a thousand thanks up to God and asked her in a tone much less serious, “Does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”

She laughed. “Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“Do you mind that I have a dog?” I asked with a grin.

“Just kiss me, Clark.”

I laughed at the hint of a command in her voice. “I’ll gladly do that, my lady.”

And then I did.

As I relished the feel of her lips pressed to mine, of my hands resting on her waist, of her arms wrapped around my neck, I realized that I had finally stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. No longer did I feel inconsequential and desire incorporeal anonymity. I was finally willing to accept what I had been given and acknowledge that my life was centered on something: Lois Lane. In just a short time, she had become my sun…my light.… And with her in my life, there could be no shadows.

But that was just fine — because I no longer needed to hide.

THE END

Author’s Note: Smallville was an inspiration in regard to the “Red-Blue Blur” and the dog Shelby (in Smallville, Shelby and another dog are super-powered by doses of Kryptonite).

Snowbound

By Deadly Chakram <dwelf82@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: January 2012

Summary: When a blizzard slams Metropolis and takes the city’s power with it, Lois decides that it might be wiser (or at least more fun) to weather the storm with Clark. Will things heat up as the temperature plummets?

Disclaimer: I own nothing and I make nothing. This story is just a little not-for-profit-fun. All Superman characters, lines of dialogue, and plot points belong to DC comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise.

Author’s Note: This story was inspired by a freak October snowfall that knocked out my power for four days. Special thanks go to AntiKryptonite for her encouragement to use the circumstance as the set-up for a story, and for giving me the idea of how to shape the story.

This story takes place during season one of “Lois and Clark”. I’m setting it just after Lois and Clark’s first Christmas/New Year’s Eve knowing each other. Also, Lois is not with Lex for the purposes of this story because Lois and Lex is just icky. I have also altered a few other minor little details, like Lois knowing early on that Kryptonite really can hurt Superman, a plot point that doesn’t occur until later in the series. Also, this Lois is a lot more in tune with her feelings regarding her partner.

Not a whole lot of A-plot here. Just a lot of WAFFiness.

***

You know, I really hate the winter sometimes. Oh sure, it has its good points. I’ve always enjoyed the special holiday brews that the local coffee shops offer once the weather turns cold and the leaves fall from the trees. And, I guess, I used to enjoy Christmas when I was very young. Back when it still held magic. Back before my parents started fighting constantly. Before they divorced. Before I was forced to raise my younger sister while my dad lost himself to his work and my mother lost herself to alcohol.

But one thing that I’ve always hated is snow. Even as a school girl, I despised the white, powdery stuff. I know. I was always the weird kid. But I hated snow days. Snow days meant that I’d be forced to stay home, oftentimes having to witness yet another verbal brawl between my parents. Snow days meant that I’d be holed up in either my room or Lucy’s room, while she cried and I tried to comfort her. While all of the other kids were out lobbing snowballs at one another, sledding down hills in the park, or building their very own Frosty the Snowman, I would spend the day in misery, hoping against hope that school would be open the next day. School was always my safe haven, the place where I could shine, the place where I didn’t have to listen to yelling and accusations all day long. School was where I constantly strove to be the best that I could, hoping to find a way to force my father into noticing me. It was the one venue that I had to try and make my parents be proud of me. I always knew that daddy regretted not having a son. On some level, I always imagined that he felt that having daughters was an inconvenience. So I became the model student, graduating from all of my schools with top honors.

As a professional career woman, snow still irritates me. I mean, really, what good is it when it closes down roads and makes it only more difficult to track down and nail a story? Who needs the bitter cold bite of the wind? Who needs the treacherously icy roadways and sidewalks? Tracking down sources and leads can be difficult enough in even the most cooperative weather. Forget trying to do the same thing when a snowstorm is in full swing. Not only does my job slow to a grinding halt in bad weather like that, but forget trying to get anything else accomplished. The last time it snowed, I tried to pick up a couple of cans of soup at the local grocery store. It was like people were stocking up for the apocalypse. You couldn’t get down the aisles, and if you did, the shelves were wiped clean of a lot of the products. There wasn’t a canned good or bottle of water to be found. And the lines! Even if I had found something to buy, I would have been standing on line to check out for at least an hour. I wound up leaving the store empty handed and with a bruise on my arm from being knocked into a shelf as another woman pushed past me, trying to get the last package of pretzels from the shelf. We wound up getting a whole three inches of snow that night, and most of it melted the following afternoon.

Like I said, who needs snow?

“At this time, we are expecting the snow to start after midnight and continue through tomorrow. Current meteorological data indicates that we’ll be getting two or more feet of snow. This much snow could break the record for the most snowfall in twenty four hours, a record that has stood since 1962. We advise all residents of Metropolis to stay indoors, as winds are gusting up to forty miles per hour. There have already been several reports of downed trees and scattered power outages throughout the area. Stay with us here on LNN for all of the breaking news. Back to you, Roseanne.”

With a grunt of disgust, I turn the television off. I can’t take the loop of the same information anymore. Plus, it just isn’t fair. Those anchors get to cover the news and I’m stuck here in my apartment. If it weren’t for the danger of the falling trees, I would be out chasing stories instead of climbing the walls of my apartment in boredom. I know that I’ve done some pretty reckless things in my time. But I’m not stupid. Trees have already crashed through two houses in the area and have smashed at least three dozen cars, including five just across the street from me. I’m not going to risk going out in this weather. At least the snow hasn’t started yet. Or maybe it would be better if it did. Then we could get it over and done with. And I could get back to work.

For lack of anything better to do, I take a nice, long, hot bath then climb into bed with one of my new books. I’ve actually stuck to my New Year’s resolution this year — to read more fiction books. Of course, the new year is less than two weeks old. Still, I’ve always liked the musical of the Phantom of the Opera, so that’s what I am reading now. Pretty soon though, I feel my eyes growing tired and I close them, just to rest them for a moment. I drift into a dream, where I suddenly find myself in the role of Christine Daae. I’m pretty certain that Lex is the phantom, and he steals me away to his underground lair. Only brave and true Raoul can save me. No, wait, not Raoul. Clark? Yes. Clark. Clark is saving me from Lex, and once he does, we run off together to our happily ever after.

I awaken what has to be several hours later to a completely pitch-black apartment, trying to shake off the dream. But I can’t. It lingers there, in the back of my mind, haunting me. I don’t see why it should. After all, it was only born out of the fact that I was reading the book before I feel asleep…and the fact that Clark saved my life oh so recently, when Mr. Make-Up tried to kill me. There. A perfectly rational explanation. No subliminal messages from my brain or heart or anything like that. I finally notice how dark it is in my bedroom, which seems odd to me. I’m pretty sure that I left the light on my nightstand on. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only to give my eyes a rest for a couple of minutes. Fumbling in the inky blackness, I find the lamp and click the switch. Nothing happens. In my sleep-fogged brain, I wonder for a moment if the light bulb blew and for some reason (though I suspect autopilot mode) I try clicking the switch again. It’s no real surprise when nothing happens this time either. Yawning, I glance at the digital clock that I keep by my bedside, fully expecting the red digits to inform me how long I was asleep. But the face of the clock is dark and lifeless. At first, I can’t understand why that is. And then it dawns on me. The storm. It must have knocked out the power to my building.

Slowly, I push the blankets to one side and shuffle off to the kitchen. I think I have a couple of flashlights stashed in there. With the loss of the blankets around me comes a second revelation. It is freezing in my apartment. All of the thermostats are wired into the electric. No power means no heat. Great. I forage through the kitchen as quickly as I can, but it’s hard in the darkness. Twice, I jam my fingers into who knows what as I blindly search the drawers. A couple of colorful words escape my lips both times. At last, my fingers close around one of the flashlights. I click the button and a faint ray of light spills out of it. Great. I couldn’t have changed the batteries in this thing in preparation for a power outage? Nice going, Lois.

I use the dying flashlight to locate two others that I had stashed in a different drawer, all the while silently promising myself that once I can see in my kitchen again, I am going to organize this place better. I find a couple of batteries and set them on the countertop, then quickly change out the dead ones in my backup flashlights for ones that work. There. Now I can finally see better. I make a quick trip to the bathroom and nearly scream when my bare feet leave the carpeting and hit the brutally frigid tiles of the bathroom floor. I begin to shiver in the cold air of my apartment. I make my little side trip the fastest bathroom break in the history of the world, then race back to the bedroom and dive under my covers. I shiver for a while longer, waiting for my body heat to once again warm the blankets around me. I could kick myself for not picking up a set of flannel sheets last week when the local home goods store was running a sale. After what seems like an eternity of listening to the windows rattle in the fierce wind outside, I finally warm up enough to fall asleep.

When I next awaken, there is once again light in my apartment. I push aside my blankets and instantly regret my decision. It seems colder in my apartment than it did last night. I break another world record as I shed my pajamas and throw on some of the thickest clothes that I own. It helps a little, but the temperature seems to have plummeted to Arctic levels. I pull open my curtains in the living room, half expecting to see penguins waddling down the streets. I’m greeted by a wall of white, swirling snow. The weather forecasters weren’t kidding when they said that this was going to be one heck of a storm. Stomach growling, I make a heaping bowl of oatmeal, all the while thinking that gas stoves are wonderful. The food comes out closer to wallpaper paste, but I throw on a generous helping of cinnamon and choke the oatmeal down anyway. It helps to warm me up some, and I’m thankful for at least that much. But…already, I am bored. I wash my spoon, bowl, and pot that I used to make my breakfast in, just to give myself something to do. And then I start to pace. I suppose that I could settle down on the couch and read. Or climb back into bed and read. But I just don’t feel like doing so.

Too bad Clark isn’t here. We always seem to have a good time together. Like a while back when we posed as a married couple and occupied the honeymoon suite of the Lexor while on an undercover assignment. Going into it, I was sure that the whole thing was going to royally suck. I mean, cooped up in the honeymoon suite with Kent? But strangely, I had a good time. And the hours flew by. Who’d have thought that my mild mannered partner could be such…well, fun to hang out with? I guess I should have known better. After all, I did get a sneak peek at the man behind my partner when we were in Smallville together, weeks before we were holed up in the honeymoon suite. And what I saw, I liked. What I saw put him into a whole new light. The hack from Nowheresville vanished, leaving behind a friend. He really is a sweet guy, if a little strange sometimes.

Wonderful. Thinking about Clark has me suddenly feeling lonely.

Biting my lower lip in thought, I look out of my living room windows again. The snow is still coming down pretty heavily, but at least the wind seems to have died down. It looks like at least a foot of snow has fallen over night. Still…a foot isn’t so bad. The streets haven’t been plowed yet, so I can’t drive anywhere. But…I can still walk. And if I don’t get out of this apartment pretty soon, I’m going to explode. I’m sure that Clark won’t mind having some company. And it won’t be the first time I’ve showed up at his door unannounced. Although, this time, I would call, if only I could. Stupid power outage. Okay. My mind is made up. I’m going to visit with Clark. Dashing back into my bedroom, I begin to dig through the back of my closet. After what feels like a long search, I finally find my favorite old pair of snow boots and my ski pants and jacket, worn only once. I gave up on trying to ski after I broke my ankle a couple of years ago while on a ski trip with some people from the Planet. Normally, I wouldn’t go out dressed in my sweats, but I think it’s far too cold to go out in my jeans. I find my old backpack and toss a few items inside, in case I wind up getting stuck at Clark’s overnight. Mostly, I take a few extra under garments and socks, my hairbrush, and extra pants and shirts. A couple of essential toiletries get added to the bag. Finally, it’s so full that I can barely zipper it shut. Now, where did I leave my hat and gloves? I think for a moment, then finally remember that I left them in the living room on the table near the door. I slip into the ski gear and hoist the backpack onto my back.

The hallway of my building is quiet as I leave my apartment and lock the door behind me. I make a beeline for the steps, putting on my hat and gloves as I make my way down to the ground floor. When I reach the door to the outside, I instantly regret not putting on a second layer of clothing. As cold as my apartment is, it feels worse out here. But, they don’t call me Mad Dog Lane for nothing. I’m determined to make it to Clark’s apartment, because I refuse to spend the next who knows how many days stuck in my apartment with nothing to do. Nothing is going to stop me from getting across town to Clark’s place. Coming down the steps to the sidewalks, the snow is already almost up to my knees. Okay. So I guess we got more than a foot of snow so far.

The walk to Clark’s is tougher than I thought it was going to be. Twenty minutes in, I’m huffing and puffing as I push my way through the snow. I’m sweating beneath my ski gear, but the rest of my body is freezing. My jacket and hat are crusted in a fine layer of snow. I feel like icicles are hanging from my nose and my eyelashes have long since crystallized. Every once in a while, the wind picks up and gusts for a couple of minutes, threatening to freeze me in my tracks. On a normal day, I would already be at Clark’s place by now, sipping a cup of coffee. Instead, it takes me closer to an hour to get to his place. I’m never so glad in all my life to see his building as I am today when I finally make it there. I walk up to his door and knock as loudly as I can manage through my gloves. I refuse to take them off for a second. My fingers feel stiff and frozen. After a small lifetime, Clark opens the door, clad in a thick fleece and sweatpants. His jaw drops when he sees me.

“Lois?” he asks, disbelieving, as though I were some sort of mirage.

“The power’s out at my place and I have no heat,” I say as he steps aside to allow me into his home. Really? I couldn’t have started with a hello?

He shakes his head. “The power’s been out here since about eight o’clock last night. But you’re welcome to come on in. I just can’t believe that you’re here. It’s pretty nasty out there. And pretty dangerous.” He gives me a pointed look that I choose to ignore.

“Tell me about it,” I say, stepping onto his landing and starting to unzip my jacket.

Gentleman that Clark is, he helps me out of my backpack and sets it on the floor. Then he helps me out of my coat, shakes off the excess snow outside of the door, and hangs it up for me. I kick off my boots and slip out of my ski pants. Clark takes those from me as well after shutting the door firmly, and hangs them so that they can dry. My hat and gloves join the rest.

It’s cold here in his apartment, but after being out in the snow and wind, it seems like the subtropics by comparison. Or maybe it’s just because his place has always felt so warm and inviting. I’ve always felt so at home here, sometimes even more than I do at my own place. I really can’t place my finger on why that is. Maybe it’s the company. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.

“You don’t mind if I hang out here, right?” I ask, knowing that he would never ask me to leave in weather like this. Or at any other time, to be honest. “I was climbing the walls at home trying to figure out what to do.”

“I’m actually really glad that you came over,” Clark says, smiling at me. How is it that this man’s smile can make me feel so special?

“Me too,” I say as I enter into the heart of his living room and plop down on his couch. “I figured that you’re the type of man to be fully stocked with things to do. Board games or something of the sort. You probably have a closet full of them.”

Clark smiles at me again as he sits next to me. “Well, it just so happens that you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” I reply playfully.

Clark chuckles and I meet his eyes for the first time since arriving. I’m horrified at what I see, though outwardly, I remain neutral. Dark shadows and heavy bags ring my partner’s eyes, like he hasn’t slept in a week or something. There is a weariness in him that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. Even the sparkle in his eyes is subdued, and I suspect that what is there is only there because I showed up. Concern floods me and I take his hands in my own. Unbelievably, though he isn’t wearing gloves, his hands are warm. The contact sends little shockwaves of warmth shooting through my own body.

“You don’t look so good,” I say, and then mentally kick myself for my lack of tact.

“It’s nothing,” Clark says. “I just didn’t really sleep at all last night.”

“Too cold for you?” I ask. “I had a hard time sleeping once the heat shut off too. And listening to the wind didn’t help either.”

“Uh, something like that,” he says, and I catch the slightest hesitation in his voice.

I’m not an award winning investigative reporter because I whistle, you know. I know that Clark isn’t telling me the whole story. I wonder briefly if I should press the issue or not. I mean, if there is something I can do to help, shouldn’t I be doing it? On the other hand, it could be a completely private matter. Maybe he ate too many snacks and was sick during the night. I’ve seen the kind of food he keeps around his place. I ate less junk food as a five year old. So, for now, I decide to drop the subject.

“I wonder how long this will last,” I say instead. “And how much snow we’ll wind up getting. Although, with the way that the wind was blowing last night, I’m surprised that I didn’t see more tree carnage on the way over here.”

“Actually, I spoke with Superman earlier today,” Clark says. “He said that he was out most of the night clearing the downed trees that were blocking the roadways.”

“That couldn’t have been easy with the wind,” I say, slightly envious that Superman went to Clark with this information and not me.

Clark nods. “He mentioned that it made it a little more difficult than usual.”

“I wonder where he is now?” I wonder aloud.

“He said he needed to recharge a bit, but that he’d be fine.”

“Speaking of recharging, what about you? You look like you could use a nap.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says, waving away my concern. “How about a cup of tea? You look like you could use something hot to drink.”

That’s Clark for you. Always looking out for everyone except himself.

“Sure,” I say, looking wistfully at the coffeemaker. I could really use a coffee right now, but no power means no coffeemaker, and I refuse to drink the instant stuff.

“Great,” Clark says, hopping from the couch with a speed that belies his exhausted look.

I watch as he moves to the kitchen. He fumbles around in his cabinets for a few moments. Two mugs appear in his hands and he sets them on the counter.

“Oh, hey,” he says brightly, clearly pleased with himself. “I found a box of hot chocolate. Would you prefer that instead?”

“Sure,” I say. Superman’s weakness is Kryptonite. Mine is chocolate.

“One hot chocolate, coming right up,” he says, as he turns on the gas stove and heats the water.

A few minutes later, he comes back to the living room with two steaming mugs. I giggle a little when he hands me mine. A small army of marshmallows is floating in my mug. Just the way that I like it. When did he learn that? Or was it just a good guess? I mean, it only took him about a day and a half to learn exactly how I like my coffee made, and how to make it even better than I do. So it’s possible that I might have mentioned it once and he then filed the knowledge away in the vast library of random, useless trivia that seems to make up half of his memory.

“Thanks,” I say, rewarding his efforts with a smile. I take a sip and savor it as it warms my entire body. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad,” he says, putting his mug down on the coffee table. He moves off to his bedroom and returns with a small radio.

“No power,” I remind him.

“I know,” he says, grinning like he knows something that I don’t. I hate when he gives me that triumphant look. Okay, maybe not hate. But I prefer when I’m right instead of him. “I don’t need electricity for this one. See? It has a crank in the back here. All I have to do is crank the handle once in a while to keep it powered up.”

“Oh,” I say.

“Comes in handy in a situation like this.”

Clark grabs the handle and cranks it around and around, until I lose count of the revolutions. Then he flicks the switch to the on position and fiddles with the tuner. At first, he finds nothing more than a burst of static, but he finally finds the local classic rock station. He looks questioningly at me.

“Any preferences?” he asks. Again, putting my wants above his own.

“This is fine,” I reply honestly.

He grins and sits back on the couch. He sips his hot chocolate almost thoughtfully, or perhaps he’s just enjoying the music. He finishes his faster than I do, then he leans back into the cushions. We sit in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and the music. After a while, I look over at him. His eyes are closed and his breathing is deep and even. I can’t help but smile at him. In sleep, I can see a peace on his face that is more profound than any look I’ve seen on his face before. Part of me wants to make him as comfortable as possible by removing his glasses. The other part of me struggles to not push back the rebel lock of ebony hair that is curled on his forehead. But I squash both urges. It’s not my place to do these things. If we were dating or something, then sure. But Clark is a friend and colleague, and nothing more. Instead, I stand, pick up his empty mug, and take both to the kitchen to wash. When I come back, I carefully situate myself on the other end of the couch, not wanting to wake Clark up. I settle onto the cushions, curling up into a ball with my legs tucked under me and I listen to the radio as one song ends and another begins. I stay like this for about an hour when Clark suddenly stretches, yawns, and wakes. I realize that I had been drifting off as well. But with Clark’s movement, I am suddenly fully awake again.

“Sorry,” he says, blushing a little as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” I say, giving him a warm smile. “You look like you really needed that.” It’s true. He looks a thousand times better for his brief nap.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I guess I did.”

The familiar twinkle is back in his eyes now that he is rested. It makes me feel a whole lot better to see my friend looking well again. Clark gives the radio another series of cranks so that we don’t lose the charge in mid-song. Then he stands and stretches.

“So, how about a game?”

“Sure,” I say.

“What would you like to play first?” he asks with a boyish grin on his face. I have a feeling that he’s going to give me a run for my money, no matter what we play.

“I don’t know,” I say. “What do you have?”

Clark moves off to his coat closet and starts to pull out boxes from the top shelf. He rattles off the titles as he stacks them on a chair.

“Monopoly, Risk, Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Chess, Jenga, Checkers, Pictionary. I have some decks of cards around here someplace too.”

“Monopoly sounds good,” I offer. “But I’ll warn you. I’m a bit of a shark.”

Clark chuckles and shakes his head. “Is there any game that you aren’t ruthless about?”

I laugh. “Nope.”

“Good. Because I happen to be the reigning Monopoly Champ of the Kent family. Eight years running now.”

“Oh yeah? Bring it, Farm Boy.”

“Okay, but don’t think I’m going to go easy on you at all.”

“You’d better not,” I say, feigning hurt that he would even consider doing so.

We set the game up on the coffee table. I unfold the game board and choose the figure of the car. Clark picks the man on the horse token. He quickly doles out the starting cash to both of us. I stifle a smile when I realize that the bank money is already organized into their individual slots and denominations, and that all of the real estate cards are organized in the order that they appear on the board. I’m not surprised in the least. Clark’s the neatest, most organized person that I know. Sometimes, it drives me crazy that he’s such a neat freak. I mean really, would it kill him to leave a file on his desk overnight, just for once? We roll to see who goes first and Clark wins the honor.

I don’t know how long we play this game for. We stop only once, around noon, and Clark whips us up a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He apologizes profusely for not being able to offer anything better for lunch. I tell him, honestly, that he shouldn’t worry. I’m really not that high a maintenance girl. At least, not food-wise. But he still seems to be worried over not being able to offer some kind of gourmet meal, no matter how many assurances I give him. I offer to clean up after lunch, but he refuses to hear it. Once the dishes are washed and put away, we go back to our game. Before I know what has happened, Clark owns the entire block just after the Go square, and has built a hotel on each property. And I seem to land on one of those squares every single time I pass Go. Owning Boardwalk and Park Place has done almost nothing for me. Clark seems quite adept at rolling the dice just enough to allow him to squeak by, except for two or three times when the dice fail him. I quickly run out of money and properties to mortgage.

“I guess you can keep your title of Champ,” I say, throwing in the metaphorical towel. “You win.”

“Did…did Lois Lane…just admit defeat?” he asks, feigning the ultimate shock.

I laugh. “Yeah, well, you’d better enjoy it. Because it will never happen again.”

He flashes me another brilliant, triumphant smile as we clean up the game. Clark carefully arranges the money and real estate cards once more. By now, the light is fading into the early evening of the winter months. I’ve never liked that it gets so dark so early. Give me the long days of summer. Clark sets the box aside and goes to the kitchen. I see him check several of his cabinets. When he returns to the living room, he has a bunch of candles in his arms, two flashlights, and a book of matches. He sets them all on the coffee table, then moves to look out the window. I join him and stand at his left side.

With all of the traded teasing while we’ve been playing games, I’ve all but forgotten the storm raging outside. Silently, we both appraise the falling snow. It’s still coming down heavy, and the tiny little flakes bear a promise that the storm is nowhere near over. As I gaze out, I realize that I’m not going to make it home tonight after all. Somehow, that sends a little thrill through my body. I really don’t want to leave. I’ve been having such a great time with Clark, that the thought of going back to my empty place is kind of depressing.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Clark says, as though he can read my thoughts. It is not a question and his tone tells me that he will brook no argument.

“If you insist,” I say, clicking my tongue and sighing as though I’d rather do anything but stay the night.

Why do I always give him such a hard time? It is some perverse form of flirting? Flirting? With Clark? Can’t be. Can it? I can’t deny that I was all over him when that pheromone spray hit the newsroom several weeks ago. And I can’t deny even now that my sometimes geeky partner is a rather handsome man. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the image of him clad only in his glasses and a too-small white towel the first day that I picked him up for work at his hotel room. I’ll never admit it out loud of course. But Clark has a great body. I’d have to be dead to not be affected by it.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Clark says, teasing me. “I cook a mean plate of spaghetti.”

“Well, in that case,” I say, giving him a smile, “count me in.”

“Excellent!” he says back, a hint of victory coloring the edges of his words.

“I’d help,” I offer, “but I’m pretty much useless in the kitchen.”

“I could teach you,” he says, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like a shy schoolboy.

“I think…I think I’d like that,” I say slowly, for some reason unable to resist.

What is wrong with me? Why does Clark affect me like this? I’d normally go screaming in the opposite direction from a cooking lesson.

Together, we gather the necessary materials for dinner. The last shafts of gray light begin to fade and Clark lights some candles for us to see by. He puts me in charge of stirring the pasta sauce, once he shows me how to prepare it. He can see that I am nervous about messing it up. So he stands behind me, lightly threading his arms around my body and guiding my hands as I create the sauce. Confidence begins to sprout in my mind while my heart starts to thump faster and harder at Clark’s light touch. Thank God he can’t hear what effect he is having on me. I think I’d die of embarrassment if he could. When Clark moves away from me to measure out the pasta and dump it into a pot of boiling water, I instantly feel cold and alone again, though he’s only a foot away. I miss the warmth of his body against my own.

It doesn’t take long for dinner to be ready. Clark lights a couple of tapered candles and sets the dining room table. With a flashlight, he peruses the wines that he has stored on the wall rack and chooses a bottle of red after what appears to be some internal debate. He expertly uncorks the bottle and pours each of us a glass. He fixes two plates of food and brings them to the table. I swirl my glass of wine and inhale the rich, heady scent. It smells wonderful. I raise my glass in a toast.

“To the worst storm in Metropolis’ history,” I say. “And to you, Clark. I couldn’t imagine being snowed in with anyone else.”

Clark raises his glass also, and I see a flicker of surprise cross his features at my toast. “I wouldn’t want to be snowed in with anyone else but you too,” he admits.

We clink our glasses together and then take a sip. The wine is amazing. Clark must have spent a small fortune on this bottle. I take a bite of my pasta and close my eyes as I savor it. How is it that Clark can make even the simplest pasta dish so delicious? Mine always comes out too al dente or like a wet sponge. Again, I can’t help but wonder if it’s not the food itself, but the company that makes it so much better. I take another sip of wine and silently gaze across the table at my friend. In the light of the candles, the whole effect is pretty romantic. I feel a fluttering of butterflies in my stomach and I try to squash them down. Clark is my friend and my partner. No. Not just my friend. My best friend. Clark’s always been there for me when I’ve needed him, and even when I’ve insisted that I didn’t need or want him. How many of my other so-called best friends can I truly say the same about? Even showing up unannounced on his doorstep today, he only ever looked glad to see me and earnestly welcomed me in. How many others would have done the same? I mentally sigh to myself. Even if I wanted to explore the possibility of a relationship with Clark, it would be both extremely inappropriate and terrifying to cross the line into anything further than what we now have. Wouldn’t it?

“Lois?” Clark says, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

I smile at him. “Fine,” I say. “Just realizing something.”

“Oh?”

I nod. “I just realized what it truly means to have a best friend. And that, well, you’re it.”

His face brightens across the table from me, and his smile seems to light up the entire apartment.

“Well, that’s a lucky thing. Because you are my best friend, Lois.”

I feel heat rising in my cheeks as I blush, and I’m suddenly thankful for the relative darkness of the apartment. My heart does a little flip-flop at Clark’s admission, though I think that I’ve suspected as much for a while now. To give myself a reason not to say anything, I take another bite of my food. Clark seems to understand my loss for words, so he changes the subject. For the next half an hour, we find ourselves talking about our childhoods, all the way through our college lives. We devour the spaghetti with gusto as we chat, both of us going back for seconds, and I can’t help but to be amazed at how much I’m willing to tell him as we talk; things that I’ve never told anyone else, Lucy included. As he tells me about his own childhood, I also can’t help but to feel a little jealous. I wish I had had a family like his. His boyhood sounds picture perfect. And having met his parents, I wish my own could have been like them.

Together, we clean up once we are done eating. Clark tops off our wine glasses again and we head to the couch. He lights a few more candles for us to see by. Outside, we can hear the wind picking back up again as it howls between the buildings and trees. The temperature seems to have fallen again, and I shiver a little, despite the warm clothes that I am wearing. Clark goes to his closet once more and comes back with a couple of fleece throw blankets. He gently covers me with one, but I feel so cold now that it only helps a little. I scoot over on the couch so that I can snuggle into his side. Part of me craves the shared body heat. The greater part of me craves contact with Clark. He allows me to cuddle up to him and puts his arm around my body, drawing me ever closer to his solid, sturdy frame. I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body at the gesture. Is it my imagination, or does this feel more than friendly, and oh so right?

“So,” I say, as I lean my head onto his shoulder. “What about after college?”

Clark shrugs slightly, though not enough to rock my head from his shoulder. He leans his cheek against my head. “What about it?”

“I know that you traveled a lot. I mean, you have a ton of articles in papers all over the world,” I prompt him.

“You read those?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

I nod. “When Perry decided to make you my partner, I thought it might be best if I checked out some of your work. Just to see what kind of a writer you were.”

“And?”

“Well, I can’t say that I thought that all of them were award-worthy. I mean, “The Mating Habits of the Knob-Tailed Gecko”? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Clark chuckles and I feel it reverberate through his body. “I needed work. I would have done an article on what brand of paint dries the fastest.”

“But why all of the traveling?” I ask, curious.

Clark grows quiet and sad. I can tell from the way that he sighs. His whole body seems to tense up. “I…was searching for…my place in this world,” he says haltingly, as though he’s struggling for the appropriate words.

“What do you mean? You and your parents are so close and all. It’s surprising that you bounced around to countries all over the world. Now if your parents were like mine, I could understand the need to get as far away as humanly possible.”

“We are close,” he says, still searching for words. “But I always knew that I was…different. That I wanted a life outside of Smallville. Like I was destined for something…bigger. So I searched for where that life might be.”

“But so many places…”

“None of them were the right place for me. I was always an outsider, no matter where I went. Until I came to Metropolis. When I got here, I knew that I was home. Getting to know Jimmy and Perry and especially you, Lois, just solidified it for me. I’m where I belong now.”

His voice has grown so soft that it is barely above a whisper. And there are traces of sadness in it. Like some remembered pain still lingers there in his past that still has the power to wound him deeply. I feel like there has to be more to his story, but it seems clear that whatever it might be, it hurts him too much to think about. And that makes me angry. Clark is one of the sweetest, gentlest, most giving people that I have ever met. How could anyone or anything cause him pain?

“Tell me about some of the things that you saw on your travels?” I ask, hoping to steer his mind to happier memories.

I look up just in time to see a small smile curve the corners of his lips. Encouraged, I snuggle even deeper into his body, grab the spare throw blanket from the back of the couch, and cover us both. Clark’s strong arms cradle my body ever so reverently.

“Well,” he says after a moment. “I went up to Canada first. It seemed like a good place to start. Not too far away, but a fresh place to search for my place. I was only there about a month and a half before I moved on. But I met some interesting people there. Bill was a park ranger that I met at a bar one weekend. He and I went hiking two or three times out in this remote little area that was just beautiful. He taught me how to identify different animal tracks.

“During the three months I was in France, I practically lived on coffee and pastries once I found the best little cafe. I was there so often that Marie, the owner, used to see me coming and get my usual order ready before I could even ask for it. She was a very sweet old lady. I kept in touch with her son and was sad to hear of her passing in August.

“Italy was great. I was there for about six months. I almost felt like I could have stayed there forever. I found a paper there that took me on full time. That was the first time that I didn’t have to do freelance work. It was nice to have a steady income for a change. But…well…things just didn’t work out and I had to move on.

“Let’s see…I loved New Zealand. I used to spend every free day I had hiking around the countryside. And the people were just fantastic. Really lovely. I’d love to get the chance to go back there someday and visit some of the places that I fell in love with.

“Hmm…Egypt was fascinating. The very first thing I did there was take one of those tours of the pyramids and the Valley of the Kings. And I loved the Cairo museum. I was there just about every weekend and became friends with one of the curators. I couldn’t get a full time position at a paper there, only freelance work, so I supplemented my income by being a night guard at the museum three nights a week. It was a pretty unique experience, to say the least, but it was lonely work.”

Clark’s voice is so soothing and almost husky, but bright and peppy as he relives these moments in his mind. I lose myself to his words and allow him to paint the images that my mind sees. I don’t stop him. I don’t ask questions. I just enjoy his stories, letting him tell me whatever he wants to. And I enjoy the sensation of his body against mine, making me not only much warmer than I was, but also feeling safe and secure and…cherished. I lose all sense of time as Clark weaves his stories. But hours must pass. I’m startled to see how low the candles have burned when Clark finally grows quiet again. It must be late indeed. I’m starting to feel myself getting tired and I yawn despite a heroic effort to hold it in.

“Tired?” Clark asks.

“A bit,” I admit.

“Come on. You can take the bed.” He starts to move to get up but I stop him.

“What about you?”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he assures me. “It’s pretty comfortable. I’ve fallen asleep on it plenty of times.”

“You’ll be cold out here,” I protest. The throw blankets might be warm, but I can’t imagine them being enough to keep Clark comfortable all night long.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, brushing off my concerns.

“You will not,” I say, letting him know by my tone of voice that the subject is not up for debate. “We’re both adults. We can share the bed. At the very least, we’ll be warmer with shared body heat. Like we are right now.”

“I don’t know, Lois,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like a shy teenager. “Won’t that make you feel…I don’t know…awkward?”

“It’ll make me feel warm,” I say decisively. “It’s a known fact that shared body heat is the best way to stay warm.”

“Lo-is.”

I soften my tone. “Please?”

Clark looks slightly panicked.

“Oh for Pete’s sake. I don’t bite!” I say.

“All right,” he relents after a long moment of indecision. “I’ll go and straighten the sheets. I’m afraid that I never made the bed today. You can use the bathroom first and get yourself ready for bed. Need anything? There’s an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet if you need it. If you want a shower, there are some extra towels in the linen closet in the hall. Feel free to use whatever you need.”

I shake my head. “I’m all set,” I say, jabbing my thumb in the direction of my backpack.

“Okay,” he says simply.

He extracts himself from me and from the blankets on the couch, hands me a flashlight so that I can see where I am going, then heads off to his bedroom. I instantly start to shiver as I get up from the couch and my body makes contact with the frigid night air. In Clark’s arms, I had forgotten just how cold it truly is tonight. I make a mad dash for my bag, then race into Clark’s bathroom. I brush my teeth, give myself a quick wash, and get changed for bed with a speed that even Superman would be envious of. When I emerge, Clark has already fixed the bed up and has even taken the two throw blankets from the couch and added them to the pile of blankets on the bed. I dive into his bed while he goes to get himself ready for sleep, shutting off my flashlight and leaving it on the night table as I do so.

As I snuggle down into the soft blue flannel sheets, I sigh contentedly. The whole bed smells of Clark; that musky, wonderful scent of him that has become so endearing to me. He smells like no other man that I’ve ever met. Paul used to reek of cigarettes and cheap cologne. And I’m pretty sure that Claude used to marinate himself in inexpensive liquor and only shower every few days. But Clark…Clark smells like…rose scented soap and wind and safety and home. To be surrounded by that scent now, here in his bed, it’s almost overwhelming. And it’s incredibly sexy.

After a few minutes, I hear Clark moving about the living room again. I hear the little puffs of his breath as he extinguishes the myriad candles that we’ve been burning all night long. Finally, the bright beam of his flashlight cuts through the blackness of the bedroom. My back is to him, so I feel, rather than see, him climb into bed behind me. I hear the click of his flashlight as he shuts it off, allowing the darkness to cover us completely. I tremble beneath the sheets as I struggle to get warm.

“Lois? You’re shaking,” he says, concern rich in his voice.

“It’s nothing. I’m just a little cold,” I admit.

“Here,” he says, flipping to his side to face my back.

In the next instant, his large hand comes to rest on my arm and he begins to methodically rub it up and down, generating friction and heat. I sigh a little at the contact and the resulting heat. Without really thinking about it, I inch my way backwards, so that my back connects with his chest. I hear him suck in a little shocked breath and I allow myself to smile. He can’t see it of course, but I can’t help but feel a little, well, wicked. After a few minutes, he seems to get the hint that I am not going to move. Maybe he relaxes a little too, because he finally envelops me in his strong arms. Soon enough, I feel his breaths even out and grow deeper, and I know that he has fallen asleep. As for me, I remain awake a little while longer, not because I want to, but because my brain is racing at a thousand miles an hour.

It feels magnificent being here in Clark’s bed, with his arms wrapped around my body. I can feel the hot tickle of his breath on the back of my neck. With Paul or Claude, that would have driven me crazy. But not tonight. Just knowing that it is Clark is enough to turn the otherwise annoying puffs of air into a kind of caress. I sigh contentedly and close my eyes, savoring the sensation of laying in Clark’s arms. I am no longer shivering and I eventually drift off to sleep, where I have the most wonderful dream. In it, I’m dancing in Clark’s arms all night long.

When morning comes, Clark’s spot on the bed is empty and cold. Disappointment shoots through me. After getting to know what it is like to fall asleep in Clark’s arms, I had hoped to learn what it would be like to wake up in them as well. The rattling of pots and pans in the kitchen tells me that he’s not far away. I get up and instantly learn that today is impossibly colder than yesterday was. I’m already wearing the warmest clothes that I brought with me. But it doesn’t seem to be nearly enough. Still, I shuffle off to the kitchen, where Clark greets me with a huge smile.

“Morning, Lois,” he says brightly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You didn’t. How long have you been awake?” I say as I look around. I notice his wet coat and boots over by my own.

“A couple of hours,” he says with a shrug. “Look!” He points to the window. “The snow finally stopped. There must be close to three feet out there. I went out to shovel the walk and figured that I’d dig out Mrs. Yang’s walk too.”

Mrs. Yang is his elderly neighbor. I’ve meet her a couple of times. She’s a sweet woman and I know that Clark looks out for her.

“What’s cooking?” I ask.

“French toast and scrambled eggs,” Clark says. “I stuck some of my perishables out in the snow after the power went out the other day.” He points to his terrace where he’s dug out a small footpath.

“Sounds good,” I say and take a seat at the table.

Clark brings me a heaping plate of food and a cup of hot chocolate before tending to his own food. He sits across from me and begins to cut into his eggs.

“Superman stopped by this morning,” he says, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Oh?”

He nods. “He said he was out doing a patrol, checking on the snow and power situations.”

“And?” My heart has deflated a little knowing that once again, Superman went to talk to Clark and not to me.

Clark swallows a bite of his French toast before speaking. “The power has been restored to most of the high priority cases. Hospitals, nursing homes, police and fire stations and the like. But we’re at least a day, if not more, from getting residential homes and apartment buildings back on line. I let him know that you were staying here. He was glad to hear it. He said that he felt better knowing that you were okay.”

I nod but say nothing. It’s nice to know that Superman is concerned for me, but I have more pressing things on my mind. I just don’t know how to go about voicing them. So I don’t. Instead, I insist on clearing the dishes when we are finished. The hot food has helped, but I’m still cold. Clark notices and brings me his bathrobe. He won’t take no for an answer, so I slip into the robe. It’s badly oversized for me, but somehow, that makes it feel so much cozier than it otherwise should. Or maybe it feels this way because it is Clark’s. He ushers me over to the couch and we sit for a while, listening to the hand cranked radio. We listen to the news, but there’s not much going on in Metropolis. No one is venturing out in the accumulated snow, other than to start the sluggish process of digging out. And it seems that the city’s plows are making slow progress at best. Looks like I’m not going anywhere today either. Once again, that’s just fine by me.

After a while, we switch back to one of the stations playing music. I notice a book of crossword puzzles on one of Clark’s bookshelves and go to get it. He produces a pencil and goes to retrieve the throw blankets on his bed.

“Wait,” I say, following him with the book and pencil. “Why don’t we just work on these in here?”

When did I get this bold and…almost aggressive with Clark?

He considers it though, and finally nods. After all, we did share the bed last night to sleep. I slip out of his robe and bury myself in his blankets. When he gets himself comfortable, I snuggle into him, leaning against his broad chest. His arms encircle me, as though we were old lovers. Lovers. The thought is intriguing. I let Clark pick one of the puzzles and we get to work. Between the two of us, we easily fill in the entire puzzle, laughing the whole time. Granted, Clark is better with the more obscure clues. But for the first time in my life, I don’t have to cheat in order to finish the puzzle. Feeling like we’re on a roll, I urge him to pick another puzzle. Next thing I know, we’ve completed four of them and it has somehow become the afternoon.

“Did you want to do another one?” Clark asks.

I shake my head. “Maybe later. I think I’m all puzzled out right now.”

“No problem.” He puts the book aside.

“Clark,” I say, taking comfort from having his arms around me, “about last night…”

I can almost hear the color draining from his face. “I’m so sorry, Lois. I knew that I should have stayed on the couch.”

“No, Clark,” I say, cutting him off. “I actually wanted to thank you. And to…talk…about,” I swallow hard.

“About?” He sounds nervous.

“Us,” I finally force myself to say. This is it. I’ve crossed the point of no return. There’s nothing left to do except to push onward. “Look, Clark, you’re my best friend. But, and I can’t be sure, but I feel like there’s a deeper connection here. And it scares me because I don’t know what to make of it.”

I turn to face him, just in time to see a flash of relief cross his features, only to be replaced with a fresh sense of trepidation. He tries to hide it though and clears his throat.

“What do you mean?” It’s like he’s afraid of misinterpreting me.

“I think you know, Clark,” I challenge him.

He sighs. “I think so. But I’m afraid that I could be wrong.”

“And?”

“And…I’m not going to lie to you, Lois. I’ve wanted since the moment I met you to be more than just a colleague to you. I’ve been honored by your friendship. I’ve been blessed to call you my best friend. But…nothing would make me happier than if…we became more than that. I’ve been anxious of bringing it up with you. There just never seemed to be an appropriate time to do so and I was afraid that it might make you uncomfortable. And I didn’t want anything to ruin our friendship.”

Again, his voice has sunk to a quiet whisper, as though speaking too loudly will upset me or something. My hand takes on a life of his own and caresses his cheek.

“I’m starting to realize…that I want the same thing,” I admit as my cheeks bloom into a heated blush.

“So…you wouldn’t kill me if I asked you out then?” He grins timidly, crookedly at me.

“Only if you keep me waiting,” I say, grinning.

“Well then. Lois Lane, will you go out with me?” His voice is so playful and yet so serious.

“I’d love to,” I reply. “But maybe we can get a head start on our new relationship. We can consider this snowstorm as a sort of…trial run.”

“What’d you have in mind?” He grins wolfishly at me and his eyes fairly smolder. He wiggles his eyebrows at me, suggesting that he’s already got a pretty good idea of what I mean.

I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I stretch my body and capture his lips with my own. He needs no further encouragement. He responds, eagerly returning my kiss as his arms pull me closer and his fingers boldly rake through my hair. We both moan, and I can feel it vibrating in his chest as I lay half atop him. The thought crosses my mind that this is Clark, of all people. But that’s what makes it so wonderful, so right, so comfortable. It’s almost like we were meant to be doing this the whole time that we’ve known each other. Maybe we were. But it doesn’t matter. We’re doing it now. If anything, it only means that we have lost time to make up for.

“Wow,” he says, when we finally break our kiss.

“Yeah,” I say.

We’re both a little breathless from the intensity of the kiss. And we both let loose a little nervous laugh. I think we’re both a little fearful of what happens next, now that we’ve crossed this scary new threshold.

“That was incredible,” I finally say after calming my lungs and heart. “That made your kiss in the Lexor feel like I was kissing my brother.”

Clark waggles his eyebrows at me again. “Ah, so you’ve been thinking about that, huh?” I playfully slap his right pectoral and he laughs. “You have!”

“A little,” I say, though the real truth of the matter is that I’ve thought about that kiss every single day since it happened. And until this last kiss, it was the most amazing kiss I’d ever experienced.

My tiny admission is enough for Clark. He smiles broadly at me. You know, that smile really ought to come with a warning label.

“So…what now?” he asks.

“Now…I think we have some lost time to make up for,” I say with a wicked gleam in my eye.

He answers by pulling me closer and kissing me deeply. I could almost swear that I’m floating in my ecstasy. I moan his name against his lips and he moans mine. My heart is beating wildly. It’s a small miracle that it doesn’t leap right out of my chest. Clark’s kisses whisk me away to some fairytale land where true love’s kiss sets off fireworks and a happily ever after. I abandon the last of my self-restraint and utterly surrender myself to him.

We spend the better portion of the afternoon exploring this strange new aspect of our relationship. Sometimes I lay atop him. Other times, he’s the one on top and I am comfortably wedged between his body and his mattress. And I have to say, any fears that I might have once had vanish like shadows at noon. When we’re finally forced to take a break, we’re both flushed and breathless and I can no longer remember why I was ever afraid to cross the intimacy line with Clark. This is every secret hope and dream that I’ve ever had come true, even if I hadn’t really realized it before now. I only hope that I don’t manage to screw this up for myself.

Eventually, we are forced to vacate the bed and eat. We never stopped to have lunch today, so we are both fairly starving by the time the sun begins to set. We decide on canned soup and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It doesn’t take long to make, and the hot soup is more than welcome against the Arctic air that has made the apartment feel more like the inside of a meat locker. We talk idly but easily as we eat, jumping from topic to topic as we go. We don’t discuss our budding romance at all. I’ve learned that sometimes, it is best not to over-think things and let them play out as they will. By the time we are finished, Clark has relit the candles so that we can see. He takes a few into the bedroom, while I take a hot shower to warm up even further and to get myself ready for bed. I’m nowhere near ready for sleep, but knowing that I’ll be curled up in Clark’s arms again, I suddenly feel in need of a good freshening up. I don’t know why. It’s not like I was trekking through mud all day.

I easily slide into Clark’s waiting embrace when I enter his bedroom. He’s strategically placed candles all around the room. The effect is both inviting and romantic, yet cautiously neutral. I feel weirdly underdressed in my beat up sweatpants and baggy sweatshirt; like I’ve wandered into a black tie affair wearing this stuff. Clark doesn’t seem to notice. He only brightens when I enter the room and pulls me close to his body. We stay this way all night long, talking. He tells me some more stories from his travels around the world, and of the interesting people he met and things that he saw. I tell him about my secret novel and admit that I don’t think that I’ll ever finish it. It even bores me to tears sometimes. I can’t imagine anyone else ever wanting to read it. Of course, he offers to read what I’ve written, but I don’t think I’m ready to take that step just yet. Maybe in the future.

Leaning against Clark’s chest, I sigh in contentment.

“Lois?” he says.

“Clark…if…if I told you something…would it scare you off?”

“I guess that would depend on what it is. But I’m pretty tough, Lois. I think I can handle anything that you might want to say. Unless it’s that you suddenly hate me for kissing you all afternoon.”

I twist in his arms to look him in the eyes and catch the wry grin on his face. “Nothing like that,” I assure him, tenderly brushing that stray lock of hair from his forehead. It feels so good to do that! “It’s just…I think…I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Lois,” Clark says, his voice seeming to choke up. “I love you too. I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. I just never in my life thought that this could actually happen for me.”

“I didn’t make it easy for you, huh?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not really. But, it’s more than that, Lois.”

“What then?”

He shakes his head again as if he’s said too much — things that he didn’t intend on saying. “Never mind.”

“No. Really. I want to know.”

He sighs. “I can’t. I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship before we’ve even gone out on an official first date.”

“Is this about Superman?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I know that he’s always been a little jealous of my fascination with the superhero. “Because, if it is, let me assure you that, yes, I have a little crush on him. What woman doesn’t? But he’s not someone…well…like you.”

“What do you mean?” There’s a weird glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Well,” I say, groping for words to express what I mean. “You’re a real man. Someone that I can laugh with and watch movies with. Someone who can cook and keeps an impossibly neat apartment. Someone that is shy and insecure and vulnerable. Someone who, with the simplest gestures, like bringing me coffee or making me laugh when you see that I’m having a bad day, makes me feel special and loved. Superman might be a good friend and a dashing hero, but you’re down to Earth and…real. Someone who loves me and that I love too.”

Clark swallows hard but his eyes shine in the dancing light cast by the flickering flames of the candles. “You…would choose me? Over him?”

“In a heartbeat,” I say.

“Lois, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Why? Did you think that you were in some competition with him or something?”

“In a way, yes,” he says. He runs a hand through his hair, a sure sign that he is ill at ease.

Concern blossoms in my heart. “Clark, what is it?”

“There’s something that I think you should probably know about me. Something that I’ve kept secret. But hearing the things that you’ve said just now, I’m finally confident enough to know that I can tell you this thing. Because now I know that it really is the real me that you’ve chosen. And before we take this new relationship of ours any further, it’s only right that you should know…everything.”

“I’m afraid that I’m not following,” I say, a cold knot of fear twisting my stomach.

“Lois, there’s a reason why I moved from country to country so often. There’s a reason why I’ve always resented your adoration of Superman. There’s a reason why I felt like I was in competition against him. And that’s because he’s not real. He’s a disguise. My disguise. I am Superman.”

“Clark, be serious,” I start to say. “There’s no way on God’s green Earth that…”

I break off my sentence when we start to float — actually float! — above his mattress. We hover only for a second or two before he sets us back down. With a trembling hand, I reach up to his glasses and he allows me to remove them. I realize that I’ve never seen him without them before, not as Clark. And as the frames come away from his face, I once more see the face of Superman. He takes the glasses from my hands and gently sets them aside.

“I’m sorry,” he says as I gape and fail to speak.

“Sorry?” I repeat. Somehow, his apology sounds like the most ridiculous thing in all the world. “For what?”

“For deceiving you these past several months. For making you believe that I’m something that I’m not. And if you’re mad, I’ll understand that.”

“I’m not mad,” I say, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yes, you made me think that you were two different people. But — and correct me if I’m wrong — I’m guessing that that’s the whole point of the suit. As for the rest, Clark, you never deceived me. Because in the suit or out of it, you’ve only ever showed your true self; a guy with a heart as big as a mountain who offers so much of himself without ever asking for anything in return. It’s one of the many reasons why I’ve fallen for you.”

He timidly smiles at me. “So…I can still be your boyfriend?”

I smile back and lightly jab my forefinger into his chest. “You’d better be. Or there will be hell to pay, mister,” I say, seriously yet teasingly.

I give him another deep kiss to prove to him that I mean every word of what I have said to him this night. I feel all of the tension in his body melt away as I caress his lips with my own. He returns my kiss, deepening it more than I ever thought possible. In that moment, I know that he’s finally lost that last shred of fear, that last shard of withheld affection. All of his love is poured out in that single kiss and my head swims from the overpowering emotions surging through my heart, brain, and body. And I know that he believes all of the things that I have told him this night. As he well should. I’ve already promised myself that I will never do a single thing to hurt him. His heart is safe with me. And I know that mine is safe with him.

Eventually, we both need air. And as much as I wish that this kiss could last forever, we reluctantly break apart. The thought flashes through my brain that we’re…I’m…moving incredibly fast here. A few days ago and I would have hung up my press pass for good before I’d ever look at Clark as more than a friend. I wonder if I am crazy. But in the last day, everything has changed. For some reason, being cooped up here in his apartment with him has allowed me to confront my secret feelings. And I know that I want this, more than anything I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. More than I’ve ever even wanted the Pulitzer.

I don’t move out of his arms and he seems to appreciate that fact. We say nothing. We only bask in the comfort of one another; my arms around Clark’s chest and his right arm cradling me while the left one strokes my hair soothingly, lovingly. I wish that I could stay awake all night, just like this. But eventually I grow tired and drift into dreamland. And dream I do. Tonight, I’m flying through the air, safe in Superman’s muscular arms. I’ve dreamt of this a hundred times before. Only this time, the thrill of the flight is heightened to astronomical levels, because this time, I know that I’m flying with Clark.

When morning breaks, I’m once again alone in the bed and I mourn the fact that Clark isn’t there beside me. The apartment is completely quiet. I hear only my own heartbeat and the breaths that I am taking. Gathering my courage to face the cold, I disentangle myself from the heavy blankets. Mercifully, today is warmer than the previous two days — if you can call forty degrees warm. Still, it’s better than last night when it plummeted into the teens. Rubbing the last of the sleep out of my eyes, I wander into the living room and frown when I don’t see Clark.

“Clark?” I call out. “Clark?”

He’s not in the bathroom either, so I take the opportunity to throw on my last clean outfit and get freshened up. I still can’t find him when I reemerge. I settle down on the couch to wait. Maybe he had to go to an emergency? I crank up the radio and find a national news station. There I find my answer. Clark’s in Detroit, battling an oil fire. An hour later, the fire is out and Superman leaves the scene. There are reports of many, many injuries, but no deaths, thanks to Clark’s efforts. I hear the familiar whoosh that signals his arrival and jump right off the couch. He enters by way of his terrace, looking for all the world like he’s just been through a warzone. His suit is besmirched with smoke and blood and other foul looking things that I am sure that I don’t want to know about. Every inch of his exposed skin is streaked with soot and smoke. A nasty odor follows him in and I struggle not to gag. But his eyes light up when he sees me. His smile is genuine and tells me just how glad he is to see me.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” he replies. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“Nice work on the oil fire,” I say. “You’re right. This little radio does come in pretty handy.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Sorry that I couldn’t be here when you got up. Let me go shower and then we can figure out what to do for the day.”

I nod and he zips to his bedroom, then across the apartment to the bathroom. I hear the water start splashing. It lasts no more than two minutes. Seconds after the water stops, Clark reappears, dressed comfortably in jeans and a sweater. He plops down on the couch next to me and captures my lips in a powerful kiss. I’m instantly wrapped in the heady sensation, and the scent of his aftershave, which, I suspect, he’s only wearing for me.

“So…what should we do today? We can go anywhere, do anything, that you want,” he says.

I notice that he’s not wearing his glasses, a sure sign of how comfortable he is with me knowing his secret. I pat his knee affectionately.

“That’s a kind offer. But, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be today then right here,” I say. “How about lunch and a board game? And maybe some more making out.” I wink at him, letting him know that I definitely intend on kissing him some more.

“Sounds like heaven,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll go get us a pizza. You can pick a game.”

“Clark, it’s eleven-thirty in the morning!” I can’t help but to grin. Still, a pizza sounds good. “Make it a pepperoni and you’ve got a deal.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

He steps away from me and starts to spin until he’d nothing but a blur. The faded blue of his jeans and the light gray sweater suddenly become the vibrant blue and red of his suit. When he stops, he is fully outfitted in his disguise and I can’t help but suck in an amazed breath.

“Wow,” I say, breathlessly.

“I’ve always wanted to do that in front of you,” he says. “I promise, you won’t even know that I’m gone.”

In a heartbeat, he’s placed a chaste kiss on my lips before disappearing out of the apartment. A sonic boom rings out overhead, the only evidence of his passing. I’m profoundly lonely as I wait for him to return. To give myself something to do, I look again at the pile of games that he’s left out from the other day. Risk looks good, so I take it out and set up the game board on the coffee table. It takes forty five minutes for Clark to return, but at least the pizza is piping hot.

“Sorry,” he says. “I had a car accident to attend to. Both drivers had to be brought to the hospital. Since I was already in New York, I went to one of my favorite pizza places in Times Square. I would have gone to Italy, but I figured that would take me away from you for too long.”

“That’s fine,” I say. “There’s nothing like a New York pizza. You know,” I say, biting into a slice. “Wow, that’s good. Anyway, you know, I like these extra perks of dating you. And now I finally understand why you would never tell me where you’d buy our Chinese takeout. I’m guessing someplace actually in China?”

Clark blushes and nods.

We eat as we play our game. In the beginning, we seem to be pretty evenly matched. But the balance soon tips in my favor. I’m crushing Clark’s poor plastic armies. And more and more of the world is falling under my dominion. Pretty soon, the board is split between my armies and his, with a few hotly contested territories. We’ve moved onto good natured teasing and insults as we continue to cast the dice.

“Clark Kent - ruler of Australia,” he says after finally winning the last portion of the continent. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“It does, but it’s not as good as Lois Lane — supreme ruler of North America,” I say back, sipping from my second bottle of cream soda.

Clark tries to overtake one of my countries in Asia and fails miserably. His strategy seems to be pretty much non-existent.

“Geez, Kent, let’s hope you’re never in charge of organizing troops,” I tease him. “We’d be in big trouble.”

He chuckles. “Well, if I ever do find myself in that unlikely position, I’ll gladly hand over my authority to you…supreme ruler, was it?”

“That’s right. And don’t you forget it.”

We continue playing the game and Clark’s armies grow smaller and smaller. It takes much longer than it usually does to play this game. Clark and I keep stopping to trade kisses, and even the most innocent ones turn into soul-shattering ones. And once we start, it’s nearly impossible for us to stop. Still, we somehow manage to move forward with our world domination. I’m in the midst of taking over South America when suddenly the television blares to life. The sudden intrusion of the sound makes us both jump. I don’t know about Clark, but I’d all but forgotten the power outage while we’ve been playing. We both laugh at our mild fright and then cheer over the returned power.

“I guess…you’ll probably be able to go back to your apartment tonight,” Clark says regretfully.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

My heart breaks a little at the thought. I’d secretly hoped to have a reason to spend a few more nights here, even though I’ve since run out of clean clothes. In the last forty-eight hours, or close enough, my apartment has become just a place. Home has become the place where Clark is — where ever that may be. Leaving here tonight is going to be torture. But I do know that with the return of the power, we’ll have to go to work in the morning. And if I stay here, I’m afraid that neither one of us will get enough sleep, if this afternoon’s random make out sessions are anything to go by. So I reluctantly agree that, if my apartment has power, I will go back to my place.

A few hours later, I’m deemed Dictator of Earth after squashing the last of Clark’s soldiers. He offers to take me home via Superman Express after he flies us in some of that Chinese food that I’m so crazy about. He knows only too well how much I love flying with him. But I decline. He can take me home, but I want to walk. That way, I get even more time with him. When it is time to leave, he helps me into my coat and shoulders my backpack for me. We’re in luck. The city has finally gotten the roads and the sidewalks clear. We walk arm in arm together, quietly enjoying each other’s company. Still, it’s kind of depressing when we make it back to my building. Since it’s now dark outside, I can see that the building does indeed have the electricity back. Most of the windows are lit up, the light filtering through naked panes of glass or through the fabric of curtains.

“Thank you, Clark.” I smile at him. “For everything.”

He slides the backpack from his shoulder and helps me into the straps. “No. Thank you, Lois. You’ve made me the happiest man on Earth. You’ve accepted me for who I really am, and you’ve given me your love. I can’t find the words to tell you just how much that means to me.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” I say. “Because I feel the same way knowing that you love me.”

“I love you, Lois. With everything that I have.”

“I love you too, Clark.”

“See you tomorrow, bright and early,” he promises, then smirks as some thought crosses his mind.

“What?” I ask.

“Just wondering what Perry will have to say about this once he realizes.”

He chuckles and I join in. He’s got a good point. Either Perry is going to blow a gasket or throw us a ticker-tape parade. I’m not quite sure which. Instead of thinking about it though, I move in to kiss Clark. Time fairly stands still as our lips crash together, unable to get enough of one another. When we break, I giggle a little and Clark raises his eyebrows at me.

“Have we gotten to the point already where it’s funny to kiss me?” he teases.

I shake my head. “I was just thinking. When this whole storm started, I was sitting in my apartment thinking to myself that snow is one of the most pointless, obnoxious weather-related things, and about how much I hate it.”

“And now?”

I give him a brilliant smile. “Now, I think that snow might just be good for something after all.”

THE END

And Nothing But the Truth

By Sue S. <sistersuze@gmail.com>

Rated: PG13

Submitted: May, 2012

Summary: Linda King is back in Metropolis for the premiere of her movie. This story is a companion/continuation of the author’s “The Whole Truth.”

Thanks to Virginia for suggesting the movie’s title! Many, many thanks to my betas: BJ, Kate, and Emily for the quick turnaround and, most especially, for being unfailingly awesome.

***

For the first half hour of the movie, Lois was in heaven. ‘Deadline’ was the biggest turkey ever made. The plot was so Linda-centric that it would be impossible for that bleached blonde viper to ever live it down. The much-too-beautiful actress playing Linda did manage to perfectly capture the original’s vapidity. The actor playing Superman was all brawn and no brain. Half the time he appeared to be reading off cue cards just to the left of the camera.

As the movie droned on Lois was sure she could sense Linda squirming in the seat just behind her. For a few brief, shining moments all was right with the world.

And then the movie took an unexpected twist. Superman rescued Linda and flew her to a rooftop where they could be alone together. He set her down and touched her cheek, cupping it in his hand as he asked, “Are you all right?”

A shock wave of recognition went through Lois. For everything the movie had got wrong — and basically the entire movie was one big lie — there was truth in that moment. Even the terrible acting couldn’t hide the fact that Linda had gotten it right. That gesture was exactly — exactly — the way Superman had checked on Lois after more than one rescue. Those had been private moments, an intimacy she thought she had shared only with Superman. All this time she had believed she was special to him, at least in those moments. That scene was evidence that Superman had done the same thing to Linda.

The thought made Lois sick. Not just a little queasy or slightly ill. No, this was actual gut-wrenching nausea. Lois would have exited right then and there but she didn’t want to give Linda the satisfaction of knowing she had scored a direct hit. Lois spent the rest of the movie taking deep breaths and thinking of inventive ways for Linda to disappear. Once the credits started rolling, Lois couldn’t make herself spend another second breathing the same air as her nemesis. It didn’t matter anymore what Linda thought or did; getting away from her was all that counted.

The ride home felt endless. Lois replayed the scene over and over again in her mind. There was Superman touching Linda’s cheek and then leaning in close to kiss her. Only once had Superman ever kissed her like that — and he had been under the influence of Miranda’s pheromone perfume at the time. Had he actually kissed Linda? A kiss that was his own choice and not the result of an outside influence? It must have really happened. How else could Linda have gotten both the gesture and the words right?

As if from a great distance, Lois could hear Clark nattering on about the movie. His presence was another reminder that Linda could steal anything or anyone from her, just for spite. Linda had taken great relish in stealing Clark away as her partner the last time she was in Metropolis. In truth, Clark had been on assignment, but that still didn’t soften the memory for Lois. Clark had been much too friendly and full of sunshine tonight when he greeted Linda and that betrayal still rankled. He needed to choose, once and for all, whose side he was on. He should start by going home and washing his face. The faint red smudge of Linda’s lipstick on his left cheek was a constant reminder of his perfidy.

The nerve of that woman! She had been giving air kisses to everyone else. It was like she had been saving that mark of ownership solely for Clark. And he had simply stood there like a dope and let Linda kiss him. He could have leaned away, but no…

They had finally reached her building, but Lois was in no mood to have Clark walk her to the door. She dismissed him abruptly, which was probably what he secretly wanted anyway. He was free to go back to the after-party and suck up to Linda all he wanted. She could cover him in lipstick and Lois wouldn’t care.

All the way up the stairs Lois couldn’t stop herself from picturing Clark and Linda together. Her misery deepened. Linda kissing Superman was one thing — Superman was a public figure. Deep down Lois had always known that she was sharing him with the rest of the world.

Clark was a different story. Clark was her best friend. Being with Clark was easy and comfortable. Even if she knew where Superman lived, Lois doubted very much that she could show up late at night with a pizza and hang out with him. Had she lost that? Had Clark gone back to the party? Was he sidling up to Linda at this very moment? Was he putting his hand on the small of her back in that faintly possessive gesture that always sent a little thrill through Lois when he did it to her?

Unable to stop herself, Lois remembered the triumphant smirk on Linda’s face last year when Clark became her partner. Lois could still repeat verbatim each and every one of the innuendos that Linda had spoken about Clark. Linda had taken such obvious satisfaction in telling Lois that Clark had only ever felt belittled and marginalized as her partner; those words had hurt, mostly because Lois had taken a hard look at how she sometimes treated Clark and she couldn’t blame him if he did feel that way. In the months since then, Lois had tried, with varying degrees of success, to be nicer to Clark.

And maybe it had made a difference. Clark did seem to be a little more attentive these days. At least he had until Linda showed up again tonight. Linda had strongly implied that she and Clark had done more together last year than simply investigate Carpenter. Maybe the only good thing about the movie was that Linda hadn’t included the steamy affair she claimed to have had with Clark. It had been horrifying enough to see Superman kiss Linda. To see her kiss Clark would have been beyond the pale.

Lois stared blankly at the contents of her refrigerator. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she whispered. “She made it up. She’s the biggest, fattest, trashiest liar in the world.” She slammed the door shut. “And he kissed her.”

For a second or two she pictured Clark kissing Linda. She shouldn’t have sent him away tonight. She should have let him walk her to the door. She should have asked him in. She should have taken a washcloth from her bathroom and offered to scrub that lipstick off for him.

There was a knocking sound on her window. In the space of a heartbeat, several thoughts ran through Lois’ head; the first was a spiteful kind of happiness that Superman wasn’t at the after-party. Just as quickly, that joy faded. Why was he here? How many other windows did he visit? How many other gullible women had fallen for his charms?

He obviously knew she was home so ignoring him didn’t seem to be the most viable option. Lois glumly went to the window and opened it.

Once he was inside she still didn’t know what to say to him so she settled for, “I didn’t see you at the premiere.”

“I had a prior commitment.” Superman seemed rather subdued and Lois’ heart sank a little more. What bad news was he about to deliver? God, please, don’t let him say anything about Linda.

Lois shrugged, determined to play this cool. “You didn’t miss much.”

Superman’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “I heard they took a lot of creative license.”

That smug bastard! Was he mocking her? And was that lipstick on his cheek? The same shade as Linda’s? In the exact same spot where Linda had kissed Clark, no less. Did the woman have no shame? Of all the questions Lois has rhetorically asked herself that night, at least that one already had an answer. Linda had absolutely no shame, it was her only dependable quality.

Wait… At what point had Superman met up with Linda? He definitely hadn’t been at the premiere. How could Linda have kissed Superman if he wasn’t at the premiere? It did look like he had tried to wipe it off — just like Clark. And, just like Clark, it hadn’t come off entirely.

Just like Clark…

Clark was the only person Linda had actually put her lips on tonight. Everyone else got one of those flamboyantly fake air kisses. Superman had not been at the premiere. Clark had. And Linda had kissed Clark…

Everything inside her went still as she realized who had just flown in through her window.

“Is something wrong, Lois? You seem upset.”

Was he kidding? Where should she start?

Lois shrugged and looked away. Superman was Clark. Or Clark was Superman. Was this why Superman never talked about family or friends? Why he avoided personal questions? Why he didn’t come to the premiere? And then she realized what else Clark had just unwittingly revealed to her. He hadn’t gone back to the party or to Linda. His appearance right after she muttered about Linda was simply too well-timed to be coincidental. Clark must have still been outside. He hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d known she was upset and he had stuck around because that’s what a friend did.

Her memory flashed to the appreciative once-over he had given her when she opened the door to him earlier tonight. He had said she looked amazing and that every man there would be looking at her, not Linda. The expression on his face had been earnest — Clark had meant it. He had spent most of the night sneaking looks at her when he thought she didn’t notice. But she had noticed. She had brought Superman to a Superman movie and he had watched her instead.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and turned back towards her window. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Her heart sank at the thought that he might actually leave. She had to think fast, had to stall him while she tried to find a way to navigate the minefield she had just landed in. Clark had one foot on the windowsill when she blurted out the question that had been torturing her for the past year, “Did you kiss Linda King?”

He shook his head and turned around again to face her. Their eyes met and his were dark and solemn. “That movie was a work of fiction, Lois. I never saved Linda from the Omiri ambassador and I certainly never kissed her.”

Of course he hadn’t! Even though Lois had just caught Clark in a huge lie, she nonetheless believed he was telling her the absolute truth. She could understand the reasoning behind having Superman and Clark Kent appear to be two different people. Linda lied just to be vindictive or because it was a Tuesday.

Lois had been right — Linda had made the whole thing up. She was willing to bet that, just like the movie, Linda’s affair with Clark had been a figment of that tramp’s overwrought imagination. Neither Clark nor Superman had kissed her. And then the full truth sank in and Lois wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry. Linda had no idea who Superman really was! No one did. It was entirely possible that she was the only person in the world who had figured it out.

Just to be sure — and maybe to rub it in to the one person in this drama who wasn’t there — Lois decided to ask him another question she hadn’t been able to before. “You don’t have feelings for her?”

“I’m sure she’s a very nice person, but—”

“No.” Lois interrupted before he could say anything polite. “No, she’s not. She’s a terrible person. She throws herself at men all the time. Did she throw herself at you?”

If the lipstick hadn’t already given him away, his response to that question might have. The calm expression that Superman usually wore disappeared in an instant. His eyebrow shot up and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he searched for an answer.

“No. But, even if she had, Linda is not my type.”

Did he realize that this was the first time Superman had ever answered a question with unsolicited personal information? Suddenly there was a strange and exciting kind of electricity in the air between them.

“What is your type?” Lois asked quietly. It felt like her whole existence hinged on his answer.

His dark eyes looked into hers and his expression became almost flirtatious. “I think you already know.”

Lois shook her head. For once she was going to make him tell her the whole truth about something. “You’ve never said.”

Clark took a step closer to her, close enough now that they were almost touching. Her pulse ratcheted into overdrive. For half a second Lois wondered if she was dreaming this. But, no, her fantasies had always been abstract. The heat of his body was much too realistic a detail to be a daydream.

“If Superman could have a girlfriend, it would be you.”

At the back of her mind, Lois comprehended that she would have dropped to the floor right then and there if it wasn’t for the fact that she was already in shock. For once being frozen in place was working to her advantage. She was amazed at how calm her voice sounded as she asked, “You can’t have a girlfriend?”

“And make you a target for anyone who wanted to use you to control me? I’d never do that to you, Lois.”

She’d already thought through this logic at least a thousand times. Superman couldn’t have an acknowledged girlfriend. But surely Clark could? And if Superman was Clark’s secret then… “Maybe I could be your secret girlfriend?”

Clark moved closer and whispered, “Maybe you already are.”

Never before had Superman looked at her with undisguised desire. How was it possible to be this dizzy and still be standing? Before Lois could think about the gesture, her hand rose to touch his face. Her eyes were drawn to that little smear of vermillion on his cheek. Did he remember that it was there? Had he left it there on purpose? Was he in earnest tonight or had he just discovered a new way for Superman to break her heart? She was sorry she had started this game. All she wanted now was the truth — could he care about her as more than a friend or not?

“It doesn’t feel like I’m your girlfriend.”

Suddenly his hands were cupping her face and his mouth was on hers. After a moment of stunned surprise Lois regained enough presence of mind to kiss him back. Their kiss was breathtaking in its intensity and a little bit confusing as she tried to remember which man she was kissing. Did it matter? No one had ever kissed her like this before. Not even Clark or Superman. Somehow it made sense that the first time she knew who he really was, he was kissing her without holding back. The feel of his arms around her, the solid strength of his body against hers, and the steadily building urgency of his kisses left her reeling. Most of her Superman fantasies had started with the vague idea of a kiss like this. The reality was a thousand times more thrilling. And then, just as swiftly as the kiss had started, he was pulling away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”

Dazed, she could only murmur, “Are you?”

He gave her a slow once-over that made her knees wobble. “Only because it’s going to hurt that I can’t kiss you like that again.”

He didn’t know! He had no idea that she knew. Clark had just crossed a major line and he had no clue that she was on to him. You’re mine, Clark Kent, she thought. You just don’t know it yet.

Lois fulfilled another fantasy by boldly sliding her hands possessively over the S on his chest. “You could, you know. It’ll be our secret.”

“Our secret…” he echoed.

Beneath her fingertips she could feel the frantic beat of his heart. All at once it struck her: Superman wasn’t just the most powerful man in the world, he was her best friend. Beneath the tights and the cape was a real person — one she already knew pretty well. Was he nervous? Excited? Scared? Would he be willing to share a real secret with her?

“Just tell me one thing,” she whispered as her eyes searched his, trying to gauge how far she dared to push him. “One thing and I swear I won’t ask you for anything else and I’ll never talk about it to anybody.”

“What?”

For half a second she thought about asking him what his real name was. Then she realized that might be too much, too soon. She’d already got the truth about Linda out of him. This might be the perfect time to get the truth about herself. “Do you love me?”

He didn’t move and she could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

“Tell me.” The enormity of the gamble she was taking hit her hard. Just because he had flirted with her and then kissed her as Superman didn’t necessarily mean that he loved her, after all. But he had stayed outside on the sidewalk, hadn’t he?

“Please, I want to hear you say it, just once.” Please, Clark, trust me.

He still hadn’t moved. Lois smiled at him as she realized she already knew the answer. He wouldn’t be here tonight if he didn’t. He could have gone back to the party, or home, or anywhere he wanted. Instead, he had stayed somewhere nearby.

“I’m not asking you to tell me the whole truth,” she added to encourage him.

His eyes widened a little. “The whole truth?”

Lois nodded. “I’m sure there are a lot of truths you could tell me. Tonight I only want to hear that one.”

Clark took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes looked steadily into hers as he softly said the words she had waited so long to hear. “I love you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and went on tiptoe to leave a light kiss on his jaw. If they made a movie about her life, she would never, ever include this night. But in the secret movie in her mind, she knew how she would write it. “You know, if this were a movie, we’d make love tonight. One perfect, never-to-be-repeated night.”

For a breathless second or two Lois worried that she had gone too far. Then Clark’s hands took hold of her waist as he said in a husky tone, “This isn’t a movie.”

“No.” Lois shook her head slightly, exhilarated by the thought of what might be next.

His expression grew serious. “And there’s that whole truth I’d have to tell you first.”

Her breath caught at both the velvet rasp of his voice and the realization that he loved her enough to want to be fully honest with her

“Is that what’s holding you back?” she asked softly. “The whole truth?”

He nodded, his fingers tightened slightly on her waist. “That’s all that’s been holding me back for almost two years now.”

Lois felt almost faint. She had to give him credit. Clark had never used Superman to seduce her — and there had been many occasions when he absolutely could have. It was time to come clean. “What if I already know the whole truth?”

“Lois, I—” he started to say, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him.

“Shh.” Her fingers moved, caressing softly over his cheek. “I told you that lipstick was never going to come off.”

“Lipstick?” His eyes closed, his shoulders slumped, and his hands dropped from her waist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Are you?” she asked softly.

Clark’s eyes opened and sought hers. For several long seconds he studied her. Lois gazed back at him, willing him to understand that she was his friend first, no matter what.

“Maybe not,” he whispered. His hand cupped her cheek, the light caress was made even more sweet by the knowledge that she was the only one he touched like this. “Will you let me tell you the whole truth?”

Lois nodded. “I’d like that.”

“My parents taught me to be honest about everything except my abilities; the things I could do. That lie never bothered me until we became friends. You’re the first and only person I’ve ever wanted to tell, Lois.” He let out a relieved laugh. “I’m Clark and I’m Superman and I’m in love with you.”

Lois swayed against him and his arms went around her. She went on tiptoe and kissed him. This time their kiss was slow and tender, a sweet acknowledgement that a lifetime of kisses laid before them.

When they parted, Clark tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you have any idea of how beautiful you look tonight?”

He had said as much hours earlier, but Lois had been too focused on what’s-her-name to pay attention. “You really ought to try and tell me nothing but the truth from now on,” she teased.

“You want the truth?” he asked with a grin. When she nodded, he bent down and left a kiss just in front of her ear. “If this were a movie, I’d already be making love to you,” he whispered, his lips lingering to leave a few more tiny kisses along her jawline.

“One of those perfect, never-to-be-repeated nights?” she murmured.

“That’s why it’s a good thing this isn’t a movie. Because I like to think there will definitely be more than one perfect night.” Lois could feel his smile on her skin. “Clark?”

“Hmm?” His answer vibrated against her skin, sending a shiver through her.

Lois wrapped her arms around his neck for balance and tipped her head back so he could keep kissing her throat. “I should tell you the truth about something.”

“What’s that?” It was becoming difficult to concentrate when the heat of his breath on her skin was intoxicating.

“I love you.”

Clark’s head lifted.

“I mean you,” she told him earnestly. “Not Superman. I love you, Clark.”

Clark smiled at her before kissing her forehead softly. “I know we’re turning over a new leaf regarding honesty, but if tonight doesn’t turn out to be perfect, it’s okay if you lie and say it was.”

“I’ve never thought perfection was much fun.” Lois giggled and shook her head. “And besides, it’s only perfect in the movies.”

THE END

Table of Contents

Stories nominated for the 2013 Kerth Awards

Accused

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Epilogue

Ants at a Picnic

Revelations at the Lake

The Red Bikini

The Pub

Prelude: The Pub Elsewhere

Part 2: Lois Lane Metropolis

Part 3: Lois and Clark: The Pub

Operation: Cupid

Only In My Dreams

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Observational Skills

Part 1

Part 2

Nightfall Honeymoon

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

My Love

Lois Rules! A Story

A Lois and Clark Fairytale: Lois and the Beast

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

A Little Advice

Luthors Revenge, Take 2

Part 2

Late Night at the Daily Planet

Identity

Chapter 1 Morning

Chapter 2 After

Chapter 3 Public

Chapter 4 Threat

Chapter 5 Results

Chapter 6 Court

Chapter 7 Consequence

Chapter 8 Perspective

Hattie Kaplin, Reporter Matchmaker Chronicles Volume 1C N

Chapter 1 Hattie

Chapter 2 Hattie and Kam-El

Chapter 3 Uh oh

Glasses

Fireworks (2012 Summer Ficathon)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Epilogue

The European Adventures of Lois Lane

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Double Jeopardy

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

The Diagnosis

Despair

Contractually Bound

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Caf Americana

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Burn

Wrong Trilogy, Book 1: Another Dimension, Another Time, Another Lois

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

The Whole Truth

The Way It Should Have Been

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Truths That Deceive

The Truth About Soul Mates

T.O.G.O.M. 2012 Moving On

T.O.G.O.M. for 2011

Super Polish

Specimen S

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Spark of Discovery

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Some Things Are Meant to Be

Chapter 1: Trouble

Chapter 2: Dont be Scared to Search Time Rolls Back the Shadows of Your Mind

Chapter 3: Soon, a Thousand Dreams will Start

Chapter 4: The Boss

Chapter 5: A Long, Lonely Highway

Chapter 6: Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter 7: Im so Lonesome I Could Cry

Chapter 8: Make the World Go Away

Chapter 9: When Youre Gone

Chapter 10: If Tomorrow Wasnt Such a Long Time then Lonesome Would Mean Nothing to Me at All

Chapter 11: A Memory from the Past Came Slowly Stealing

Chapter 12: Your Past is Catching up and Closing In

Chapter 13: If I can Dream

Chapter 14: Hound Dog

Chapter 15: A Little More Bite and a Little Less Bark

Chapter 16: Whats in the Drink? Magic, I Think

Chapter 17: The Walls Come Tumbling Down

Chapter 18: A Real Life Hero

Chapter 19: Puppy Lovin

Chapter 20: Just a Boy and His Dog

Chapter 21: How Can You Lose What You Never Had?

Chapter 22: Ive Been Hurt Before Never Ever Quite Like This Time

Chapter 23: Carnival Time

Chapter 24: Lovin Someone in Vain

Chapter 25: She Found the Boy She Likes

Chapter 26: Dark Shadows Follow Me

Chapter 27: Theyll Put You Away in a Cell

Chapter 28: A World of Our Own

Chapter 29: Joyful Faces Wherever You Go

Chapter 30: The Season of Cheer

Chapter 31: It Feels So Right How Can It Be Wrong?

Chapter 32: All I Needed Was the Rain

Chapter 33: Sometimes, I Think I Want

Chapter 34: That Magic Hour of Bliss

Snowbound

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3