Curiosity Killed the Reporter

By ML Thompson <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: April 2005

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This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and Clark:  The New Adventures of Superman. No copyright infringement is  intended. I'm borrowing these characters for a little fun and not  for any profit. For a complete disclaimer, go to:  www.thompsonlawoffice.ca/Disclaimer.htm  Special thanks to the  writers of Honeymoon In Metropolis, which is the episode where I  begin this story. You'll notice that the first few pages include  a regurgitation of the dialogue at the beginning of that episode  - with a few small modifications for the purposes of my story.  But don't worry, I go my own way from there.

Once again, I would like to express my gratitude to Gerry and  Carol for all their hard work. They caught grammatical errors,  found plot holes and gave me some much needed encouragement.  Thanks so much, ladies. I am also very grateful to everyone on  the Fanfic Message Boards (http://www.lcficmbs.com/index2.html)  who answered my silly question. You'll note that, although I  originally intended to use Spanish, I ended up using Canadian  French. Also, I'd like to thank everyone responsible for giving  us the episode scripts (available at the Fanfic Message Boards ¬  see url above). They saved me a lot of time looking up details  from other episodes to use in my story. Oh, and thanks to David  for use of the word 'thwap' <g>. Finally, thanks to Janet (Toc)  for editing this story for the archives.

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Curiosity Killed the Reporter

* * * * * * * * *

Part 01

* * * * * * * * * FRIDAY * * * * * * * * *

Lois turned off her computer and put away her files. She switched  off her small lamp before reaching under her desk to pull out the  overnight bag which had been hidden there all day. She could  hardly believe how much she was looking forward to this weekend.  She had just risen to her feet when a familiar voice drew her  attention towards the owner.

"Lois, are you going somewhere?"

She glanced over to see Clark making his way towards her,  followed by Jimmy and Perry.

"Yes, I am," she responded, slightly annoyed that Clark had not  only noticed, but commented on the fact that she had her  overnight bag. She had hoped to slip out quietly, without having  to explain anything about her plans, slightly afraid that if they  knew what she was planning to do, it would ruin her 'Mad Dog  Lane' reputation. But it was five o'clock on Friday afternoon.  She had every right to relax for a weekend of complete self- indulgence - a luxurious hotel suite, room service, spa  treatments, massages and one of the most luxurious pool and  exercise rooms in Metropolis. If anyone knew how to build a  hotel, it was Lex.

"Where?" Clark asked.

"I don't mean this to sound rude, Clark, but it's none of your  business."

"You've got a scoop, don't you?" he continued.

Before she knew what was happening, Perry, Jimmy, Clark and Cat  were all surrounding her desk.

"It's the revolution in South America, isn't it?" said Jimmy.

"Nuh-uh," Cat cut in. "The riots in Miami."

"Five bucks," responded Jimmy.

"You're on," said Cat, exchanging some sort of weird handshake  with him.

Lois glanced, stunned, between the two of them. Now they were  even betting on what Lois Lane did with her weekend off - and it  seemed none of them were even considering that she might actually  be planning to do something fun. What was she? A mule that one  ties to a pole and makes walk in a circle, all day, every day?

"Lois, you're going to have to clear this with the budget  office," Perry put in, listening to the exchange from the  sidelines and simply accepting the options Jimmy and Cat were  putting forward.

"I'm not going on a story. I do have a personal life," Lois said,  feeling a little incensed that thought hadn't even occurred to  any of them. Maybe she was a workaholic, but that didn't mean she  couldn't have fun, too. Still, none of them looked convinced.  "All right," she finally said, "if you must know, I'm on my way  to check into the Lexor Hotel for a weekend of pure relaxation."

"It's a prison break upstate, isn't it?" said Perry immediately,  as if not at all fooled by her claim that she was planning to  take the weekend off.

Exasperated, she reached into the front compartment of her  overnight bag. "Do you want to see my reservation?" she asked,  holding out the paper.

"Yes," Clark responded, grabbing it from her hand almost before  she had the ability to let go.

"Honeymoon suite?" he asked, looking back at her, eyebrows  raised.

She instantly felt annoyed. She'd forgotten the reservation told  what room she'd be staying in. She was even more annoyed that  Clark had not only spotted that but had also announced it for all  the world to hear. "It was the only thing available," she  muttered, snatching her reservation back from Clark.

"Lois Lane in the honeymoon suite?" scoffed Cat.

"Stranger things have happened," said Jimmy.

"Name one."

"Thank you all very much. I'm leaving now," said Lois, turning to  pick up her overnight bag.

As if sensing her displeasure, Perry spoke. "Now, Lois, you've  got to admit that the idea of you spending an entire weekend just  relaxing is a bit... well... far fetched."

"Oh ye of little faith," Lois responded, grabbing her coat from  the rack and heading for the elevators without as much as a  backwards glance.

She didn't care what they thought. She really didn't. This  weekend was going to be the first time off she'd had since that  whole pheromone disaster - and she was going to treat herself,  forget work, forget her colleagues, forget Cl... forget that man  who was too good looking for her own peace of mind and just  relax. After throwing herself at Clark for two whole days, and  then learning that she was suffering from some kind of 'animal  magnetism' towards her partner, she had realized she really  didn't get out enough. And so tonight... that was exactly what  she was going to do. She'd regain her balance and then be back at  work once the weekend was over - her dangerous attraction to her  partner firmly a thing of the past.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois got out of the cab in front of her apartment building. If  she was going to relax for the weekend, she needed a good book.  And she knew just the one. Why hadn't she thought to bring the  book when she'd packed the previous evening? Taking a deep  breath, she trudged up the stairs to her apartment and went  inside.

She found the book quickly - the latest Stephen King fic.  Mystery. Intrigue. Pure terror even. But no romance whatsoever.  Perfect. Stuffing it in her overnight bag, she assured herself it  was an emergency measure only. After all, she was a little  concerned that it had been so long since she'd taken a weekend to  relax that she wouldn't remember how to do it. And there was no  way she was going to allow Clark, Perry, Cat and Jimmy to be  right. She could take an entire weekend off. She would prove it.

On impulse, she changed out of her work clothes and slipped into  her sweat suit. Maybe a good jog on the way to the hotel would  help relax her - and it certainly would save her the cost of a  taxi. Reaching into the front compartment of her overnight bag,  she pulled out her reservation and stuck it in her pocket. Then  she stuffed her purse into the bag, slung the bag over her  shoulder and headed out of her apartment at a jog, only taking  long enough to lock the door behind her.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois looked at the items in the gift basket provided by the  hotel, finally deciding on a bag of chips. Making her way over to  the bed, she pulled open the bag and took a seat before turning  on the television. As she relaxed on the bed and ate a chip, she  watched the screen. Some sort of old movie was playing. Normally,  she really liked old movies, but this one just seemed... corny  somehow. She rolled her eyes when the actress on the screen made  an inane comment, obviously meant to impress the man. Please! Who  wrote this drivel? When the two characters kissed, Lois looked  everywhere but at the screen. This was not what she needed right  now. After all, she was here to put thoughts of men... one man in  particular... out of her mind. She changed channels, only to turn  the television off in disgust when she spotted another couple  kissing on the next channel.

Rising from the bed, she made her way towards the heart-shaped  tub, slipping out of the white, cuddly bath robe provided by the  hotel and allowing it to fall to the floor. She moaned in  contentment as she sank into the warm water. Now this was  relaxing! She closed her eyes and played absently with the  bubbles, a smile making its way onto her lips. Who needed a man?  This was as good as sex any day - better even.

The ringing phone caused her to open her eyes. Reaching for the  noisy item located on the side of the tub, she picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Working hard?" came Clark's question on the other end of the  line.

"No, Clark. I'm relaxing." She emphasized the final word as she  closed her eyes again, refusing to be drawn out of her state of  bliss. In truth, she'd been feeling bored. Not that she intended  to tell him that, of course. And she couldn't say she was  bothered by the interruption - even though her subconscious mind  reminded her that the person on the other end of the line was the  very person she was supposed to be forgetting about with this  weekend of relaxation.

"Yeah, right," he replied. He sounded skeptical, but his tone  held no malice. That was one of the things she liked most about  Clark. He might tease her, but he was never mean. "How is the  view?" he asked without waiting for her response.

The view! It suddenly occurred to Lois that she had not yet  looked at the view. Of course, he didn't need to know that. "It's  wonderful," she said, turning to find a window she could see  through. "It's... It's..." Her voice trailed off when she noticed  the lights come on in a luxurious suite across the way and a  number of beautiful, provocatively dressed young women and older  men in expensive business suits walk in. She thought she  recognized one of the men. "I don't believe it," she muttered to  herself.

"You don't believe what?" Clark asked. She ignored him. "Lois?"

"Where are those?" she mumbled, searching frantically through her  purse which was lying to the side of the oversized tub while at  the same time trying to keep the phone at her ear. The task was  not easy, but soon she had what she was looking for - a small  pair of binoculars. "Yes!" She removed the item and turned back  towards the window, nearly dumping the phone into the water in  her effort to get a better look. "Yes, it's wonderful. It's..."

"Lois? Are you okay?"

"Congressman Harrington?" she asked in disbelief when her  suspicion about whom she had seen in the neighboring suite was  confirmed. "Yes... yes... I'm..." She turned back towards her  purse. She needed her camera.

"How's the bed?" asked Clark, obviously unable to understand her  previous comments.

"The bed?" she asked, reaching into her purse and withdrawing her  camera. "The bed is just great, Clark. It's... uh..." Finally  trying to hold the phone to her ear and take pictures was too  much for her. "I'm in the Jacuzzi, Clark. Could you hold on a  second?" Without waiting for a reply, she set the phone on the  side of the tub and began snapping pictures. When she finally had  what she needed, she again retrieved the phone. She had been able  to hear Clark calling her name since she'd put the phone down.  She placed it back at her ear. "Yes, Clark, yes."

"Lois, is the TV on because..."

"What? No. I mean, yes. The TV. Yes. The TV. It's on." She  managed to snap off a couple more pictures.

"Have a good night's sleep." She could hear the confusion in  Clark's voice.

"Uh... I will."

Then his voice lightened. "Lois, I didn't think you had it in  you."

"What?"

"Well, the ability to take an entire weekend off." He hesitated.  "I... Congratulations."

"Clark, I got to go now. I've got to get back to relaxing."

She was so distracted by the events taking place in the suite  across the way, she dropped the phone in the water. With a small  screech, she began searching for the phone. She didn't dare  imagine what Clark was thinking on the other end of the line.  Hopefully he had already hung up. Not wanting to try to explain  to him what had happened, when she finally found the phone, she  hung it up without another word.

She quickly dismissed her concerns that Clark might think she was  a total idiot, turning her attention back to the suite. Some sort  of party was obviously going on over there. The women looked like  high-priced call-girls and the men... well, one of them was a man  holding public office, so who were the others? A couple of the  men looked familiar, but at the moment she couldn't put names to  the faces.

Normally, Lois wasn't interested in sex scandals, but since this  one appeared to be playing itself out right in front of her...  Besides, if memory served her correctly, the congressmen who had  come to Metropolis for the Congressional Inquiry starting on  Monday were staying in an apartment complex in this area of town.  Was it possible that they were in the building across from her?  The very one she was staring into right now?

She watched as Harrington reached for one of the women, pulling  her onto his lap. Lois let out a breath of righteous indignation.  She'd met that man's wife, for crying out loud! And here he was,  giving the whole city a view of... It suddenly occurred to Lois  that if she could see clearly into their suite, they could  probably see into hers.

She set down the camera on the side of the tub before making her  way to the far side, being careful to maintain her cover of  bubbles. Reaching as far as she could, she was able to grab her  robe. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure that no one from the  other suite was looking in her direction, she rose, quickly  wrapped the robe around her and dashed for the light switch,  bathing the room in darkness.

She made her way back to the window, pulling the curtains until  only a crack was left open for her to see out. She cringed in  disgust as she watched the obvious sex party. She raised her  camera and took pictures of a few of the other men - just in case  it turned out to be important. And then she made her way to the  bed. There was no story there - at least not one she wanted to  write. Letting out a sigh, she crawled into bed, falling asleep  quickly.

She slept for... she wasn't entirely sure what the time was when  she jerked awake in a strange room, in an unfamiliar bed. It took  a moment for her to figure out where she was. When she did, the  memories of what she'd witnessed before going to sleep came  flooding back. She turned over, trying to fall back to sleep. But  this time she couldn't sleep. Her mind kept coming back to one  subject - that men were pigs. Harrington had a beautiful and  well-educated wife at home. The woman had sacrificed her career  as a doctor in order to stand by her husband's side, promoting  him at one political rally after another. She made speeches and  spoke pleasantly to people she probably couldn't stand - all in  order to further her husband's ambitions. And how did he repay  her? Lois shook her head.

She wasn't sure why anything a man did surprised her anymore. All  she needed to do was to look at her own father to know that men  were pigs. Not that she should be too hard on them. Maybe they  were biologically incapable of fidelity. She gave a small snort  and rolled over in bed. That was why it was best to stay away  from men in the first place - particularly any man one had to  work with following his infidelity. She'd learned that with  Claude after all. Not that Claude had cheated on her, of course.  He'd simply dated her until she'd finally given him what he was  after - her story and her body. The problem was that he'd also  taken the one thing he apparently hadn't wanted: her heart. Then  he'd been on his way. That was why this weekend was so important.  She had to get a grip on her dangerous and potentially disastrous  attraction to Clark.

She pushed back the covers and rose from the bed. Slipping into  her robe, she began wandering around the darkened room. She knew  intellectually that she couldn't get involved with Clark. Still,  after last week, she had to admit, even if only to herself, that  there was... something there, at least on her part. It was  possible Clark didn't feel the same way. After all, he'd also  been sprayed with the compound and he hadn't fallen for her. She  wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if she hadn't noticed the way he  would often look at her - and unless she was way off on reading  men's looks, he was definitely interested. She sighed.

What troubled her almost as much as her idiotic attraction to  Clark was that while under the influence of the pheromone  compound, she'd barely noticed Lex. Yet Lex was the one she was  dating - at least when they both had the time. Since the  incident, she'd been forced to concede that while Lex was the  type of man she knew she should be attracted to, Clark was the  one she was attracted to - a guy too good looking to be anything  but a scoundrel where women were concerned. Obviously, she was  still attracted to the wrong kind of guy.

Not that Clark had acted like the typical scoundrel - at least as  far as she was concerned. Still, Lois could certainly remember  his brief tryst with Cat. She crinkled her eyebrows. She  remembered that incident almost too clearly. She could remember  the pain she'd felt when Cat smirked at her the next morning. She  remembered how she'd seen Clark and Jimmy whispering together,  only to have Jimmy rise and say, 'great piece of journalism  there, C.K.' before walking away when she approached. She knew at  that moment that Clark had given Jimmy all the intimate details  of his night with Cat.

Clark had denied sleeping with Cat, but that was to be expected.  He was smart enough to know not to brag about his conquests with  one woman to another - especially to one he still had hopes of  taking to bed. It surprised her to realize how much that entire  incident still bothered her. Had she been attracted to Clark even  then? She pushed the question to the back of her mind as  irrelevant. The question was what to do about her attraction to  Clark now - not when this attraction had first begun.

Of course, there was more to Clark than just being a lady's man -  way more. That was the problem. He was smart and funny. He never  slowed her down when they were working on a story. In fact, he  challenged her to try harder, to be the best that she could be.  He was supportive and endured her mood swings. Not to mention  having a killer body.

"No! No! No! No!" She was definitely not going to go there.  Whatever she did she was not going to think about that body or  the time she'd seen Clark in nothing more than a towel.

Clark in a towel. She would swear that image was tattooed on the  insides of her eyelids. She saw it practically every time she  closed her eyes these days. It plagued her when she couldn't  sleep at night. It came to her in her dreams. Only in her dreams,  she would reach out and give the towel a quick tug and then watch  as it dropped to the floor revealing... She gave her head a quick  shake, scattering the image. She had checked into this  extravagant room for the weekend to forget about Clark - and that  wasn't going to happen if she kept thinking about that body.

She was almost relieved when, in her peripheral vision, Lois  caught sight of the suite where the 'party' had been going on  earlier. She made her way to the window. The party appeared to be  mostly over now. She could still see Congressman Harrington, his  shirt open, his hair tousled, and... a woman was standing  slightly behind him wrapped in a sheet. In front of the  congressman stood two men. One was short and stocky, had grey  hair and was obviously exchanging heated words with the  congressman. Lois was suddenly extremely curious about what was  happening. The man beside the short one was much younger. He  looked to Lois like a typical punk - young, solid, much like a  brick wall, with an ugly scar running down his cheek. She  suspected his body, unlike the one she had been thinking about  previously, was covered with tattoos - one of which, unless she  very much missed her guess, was undoubtedly of a naked woman.

Lois flinched when the grey-haired man pulled a gun from inside  his jacket. She saw Harrington and the woman back up until the  woman was out of sight. Lois was changing positions, attempting  to see where the woman had gone, when she saw Harrington's head  snap around, apparently looking at the woman himself, before  turning back to the man with the gun, fear clearly written on his  face. Had the man fired at the woman? Lois wasn't entirely sure.  She hadn't heard a thing. Of course, given the fact that she was  in a different building, she really wouldn't have expected to  hear it.

Lois knew she needed to do something, but for a moment nothing  came to mind. So with her mouth open, she stood staring as the  two men, obviously having convinced Harrington to accompany them,  left the suite. And then the room across from her went dark.

Lois pulled in a breath when she suddenly realized that she  hadn't been breathing. Had what she thought transpired in that  room actually happened? She didn't know. She supposed she could  call the police. Except that she really didn't know if anything  had happened. In fact, she probably didn't know enough to allow  the police to get as much as a search warrant. After all, she  didn't know that anything had happened to the woman. Maybe she  had simply gone to bed. And, in spite of pulling a gun earlier,  the man with the gun had put it away before Harrington left with  them under his own power. No. She had to find out for sure.

In her haste to act, Lois tripped slightly, feeling her foot kick  against something. She heard a splash and realized she had  managed to kick something into the tub which she hadn't emptied  after last night's bath. But she didn't pay it more than a  passing thought as she threw on her sweat suit, put her hair up  under a wool cap and attached the money belt she used while  jogging around her waist. In the money belt, she stuck a small  amount of cash, her room key, her lock picking equipment, a small  flashlight and her press pass before heading out of the room. She  had to hurry. If the woman had been shot, she might still be  alive. And if that was the case, she would need help immediately.

Lois pushed the button to the elevator and waited impatiently for  only a matter of seconds before heading towards the stairs.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 02

Lois checked to be sure the hallway was empty before turning her  attention to the door which she guessed led to the suite across  from hers. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. When there was no  answer, she bent down in front of the door and, removing her lock  picking equipment from her money belt, turned her attention to  the door.

She was relieved when the telltale click told her the lock had  surrendered to her ministrations. She quickly opened the door and  stepped inside. As expected, the lights were off. She withdrew  the flashlight from her pouch, turned it on and glanced around  the room. It didn't take her long to realize she was in the wrong  room. She took a look out the window and found her room. From its  location, she estimated that she needed to be in the suite next  door.

She turned off the flashlight and headed for the door, hoping  that if there was someone asleep in this suite, she could escape  before he or she woke up. She had just opened the door when she  heard someone coming down the hall. She closed the door until it  was only open a crack and listened, hoping whoever was outside  would pass by quickly so she could slip out. What she would do if  they were coming into the room where she was currently hiding,  she had no idea.

"So what do you want done with the body?" a man's deep voice  growled.

Lois pulled the door a little further open - it was amazing how  soundproof these suites seemed to be - before putting her ear  closer to the crack as she strained to hear the response.

"Bury it. But be careful not to disturb the DNA. Harrington knows  that if the police find her body, he'll be the number one  suspect. After all, he was seen with her earlier. Then when they  find his DNA... Well, let's just say that he really doesn't want  that to happen. And as long as we can lead the police to her  body, he'll do whatever we say."

"But can't he just tell the cops that you shot her?"

"He could. But killing her isn't his only problem. If the voting  public finds out about him cheating on his wife with a high-class  call girl, not to mention her being killed immediately after  sleeping with him, he doesn't stand a chance of being reelected -  not to mention ending his dream of taking a run at the White  House one day. After all, what is it they say? There are only two  things that can kill you in politics: being caught with a live  boy or a dead girl."

The voices disappeared when a door opened into the suite next to  the one in which Lois was currently hiding. She waited until she  heard the door close before stepping into the hall. She came to  an abrupt halt when she found herself standing face to face with  the grey-haired man she'd seen with Harrington earlier. Behind  him was the muscle man who had been with him earlier.

"I thought that door was open," the older of the two said, his  voice anything but friendly. "So tell me, my dear, just how much  of our conversation did you hear?"

"Excuse me?" Lois asked in response, trying for all the world to  look as if she was just coming out of her suite to go for a jog  and was a little annoyed about being confronted by a couple of  strangers in the hall.

The older man's dark grey eyes flashed dangerously as he moved  closer to her. "Don't play coy with me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Now if you don't  mind..." She attempted to push her way past the man she instantly  nicknamed, 'Grey Eyes.'

"Oh, I think not," he replied, grabbing her arm.

"Hey, what do you think..." Her voice died when, with his free  hand, he removed a gun from under his jacket and stuck it in her  ribs.

"You won't make a sound, my dear. And you'll just come with me if  you know what's good for you."

She allowed fear to show in her eyes and relaxed her muscles,  trying to look as defeated as possible. When he began to tug her  towards the suite next door, she didn't put up any resistance.  Then, as suddenly as a cat pouncing on a mouse, she spun,  dislodging both the gun and his hand, kneed him in the groin and  took off at full speed towards the stairs, hoping that he  wouldn't want to risk having a gunshot heard in the halls.

"Get her!" Grey Eyes snarled at his minion while he himself took  a moment to recover from her well-placed attack.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' lungs burned and her muscles ached as she crouched behind a  large garbage bin in an alley outside the apartment building. She  had to make a conscious effort to keep her breathing under  control, trying not to let her body's need to catch its breath  give away her position. It briefly occurred to her to call for  Superman, but she dared not, lest she reveal her position only to  discover that he was on the other side of the world battling a  volcano or some other such nonsense. Didn't he know that he was  supposed to hang out in Metropolis just in case she found herself  hiding behind a dumpster in a dark alley trying to avoid  detection by the most persistent goon she had encountered in a  long time?

She was only one building away from the Lexor. As soon as she  caught her breath, she'd make a dash for it. If she was able to  get inside, there would be people there - employees anyway. She  doubted the goons following her would try anything in front of  other people. And without leaving the lobby, she'd call Clark -  oh, and maybe the police, too. She'd heard them talking about a  murder - that should be enough for the police to get a warrant  for the suite where the murder had taken place.

Satisfied with her plan, she listened for footsteps. Maybe she  had finally given the man she'd dubbed 'Muscle Head' the slip.  Sticking her head carefully around the dumpster, she took a look  around. When she couldn't see anyone, she rose silently to her  feet.

"Going somewhere?"

Lois froze when she felt the barrel of a gun in her back. She  slowly raised her hands, her mind moving quickly as she sought to  figure out her next move.

"Sup..."

A hand clasped over her mouth instantly silenced her attempt to  yell for her hero.

"Oh, I don't think you wanna do that," said Muscle Head. "'Cause  you yell for him, I'm going to have ta get out of here fast. And  to do that, I gotta pull this trigger. Not even Superman can get  here before this bullet is buried in your gut."

Lois instantly stilled. He was right. The barrel of the gun was  jammed against her. Unless Superman was a few feet away, he  wouldn't be able to get there in time.

"Okay, now that we have an understanding, I'm gonna take my hand  off your mouth." He waited a moment, as if giving time for his  warning to sink in. "Good," he said, as his hand cautiously left  her mouth. "Now, turn around, very slowly - and keep your hands  where I can see 'em."

Lois did as instructed. She would have to wait for the right  moment. It would come - after all, it always did. And then she'd  be out of there.

"You've got her."

Lois looked in the direction of the voice to observe the older  man approaching. She fought back a smirk when she noticed he was  limping slightly.

"Ya," Muscle Head responded, being sure to keep the gun against  Lois. "She's a sneaky little devil, though - tried to yell for  Superman."

"As long as you made her understand exactly what a deadly thing  that would be for her to do," the man said, his eyes flashing  with pure hatred.

"I think she got the picture."

"Good," Grey Eyes said. "So why don't we get acquainted?"

"Good idea," Lois responded. "Why don't you start?"

Lois was stunned when the man backhanded her across the face.

"Search her," he commanded the younger man while withdrawing his  own gun.

Lois automatically began struggling against the rough hands of  her captor, protecting more vulnerable body parts from his  probing.

"Hey, I got somethin'," the younger man said. Tearing her money  belt from around her waist, he handed it to the older man.

Grey Eyes stepped back slightly where there was more light and as  her captor put the barrel of the gun back against Lois' side,  Grey Eyes opened the pouch. "A key to a room at the Lexor," he  said, removing the first item. "Lock picking equipment?" he  added, his eyebrows going up as he looked back at Lois.

Lois knew the gig was up even before he withdrew her press pass.  She glanced briefly at the man holding her. Noticing he was  watching Grey Eyes, she used her best tae kwon do move to knock  the gun out of his hand. As she heard the gun hit the pavement,  she gave him her best kick and took off at a run before he could  recover.

"She's a reporter! Stop her!"

Lois didn't look back. She ran as fast as possible towards the  street. She could hear the sound of feet behind her as she ran  onto Water Street, which ran along the bank of the West River. It  was better lit than the alley, making it easier for her to see.  It also, unfortunately, made her an easier target for the two men  with guns following her.

Which came first, she didn't know: the sharp pain in the back of  her leg or the sound of a gun being fired. She stumbled slightly,  searching desperately for something to grab onto to keep herself  from collapsing. Her leg betrayed her, crumpling beneath her. She  reached out to grab onto the cast-iron railing that ran along the  edge of the water, trying to pull herself back to her feet. Just  a few more steps and she'd be at the front doors of the Lexor.  She couldn't give up now.

As she regained her footing, her free hand went to her leg,  touching it briefly. She glanced down at her hand, seeing the  sticky red substance which confirmed what she already knew - that  she had been shot. The bullet must have gone straight through  her. She'd never realized just how much getting shot would hurt.

She continued to pull herself along the railing. Just a little  further and she'd be at the doors of the Lexor. Once inside,  she'd dive behind one of the oversized sofas in the lobby and  allow herself to collapse - not before. Calling on every ounce of  strength she still possessed, she continued pushing forward. The  footsteps behind her slowed, telling her that they had caught up  to her.

Having no choice, she turned to face her attackers. Maybe she  could still find a way to stall until another chance to escape  presented itself. As she turned, her eyes first landed on the gun  no more than a foot away from her chest. She felt as if she were  in a dream as her eyes followed the trail upwards from gun to  hand to arm to shoulder before meeting the grey eyes of the man  before her. And in that instant something passed between them,  some unspoken understanding of murderer and victim.

"Sup..."

Bang.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her hand came off the railing  and she lost her balance, tumbling over the railing and plunging  into the river.

"Sup..."

Her yell was cut off by water entering her lungs, causing her to  gag. She tried to swim, but as if Poseidon himself reached up  from below the surface of the dirty water, she felt a tug on her  legs, pulling her down. She fought him, but the surface seemed to  get further away. Still, there was hope. All she needed was get  to the surface and yell for Superman. He would not let her die.

With fresh resolve, she struggled even harder against the forces  conspiring against her. She held her breath, knowing that she had  to reach the surface before relieving the burning in her lungs as  her body cried out for oxygen. It was so cold. The pain in her  chest and leg was unbearable. Still she fought against her  injuries and the unforgiving power of Poseidon. She refused to  let him defeat her. Yet it felt as if lead were attached to her  feet. She kicked against her runners, but they remained firmly on  her feet.

Which way was up? She was no longer sure. She forced a small  amount of gas from her lungs but in the dark couldn't see the  bubbles well enough to know which way they were going. She was so  cold. Suddenly, the need to breathe overwhelmed her and she  involuntarily sucked water into her lungs. The pain was  extraordinary. And then everything was all right. She no longer  felt cold. She no longer felt anything, except an unexpected  sense of euphoria as Poseidon claimed her.

* * * * * * * * * SATURDAY * * * * * * * * *

Clark bounded down the ramp into the newsroom. In spite of the  overcast weather, he was in a good mood. Maybe it had been the  good sleep he'd enjoyed the previous night. Maybe it had been the  brief phone conversation he'd had with Lois. Of course, the  conversation had been a little... odd. Still, it was good hearing  her so obviously enjoying herself. It was a side of Lois he  hadn't seen before - and he felt as if he knew her just a little  bit better as a result.

Too bad she had the entire weekend off. He would have liked to  see her today. A small smile creased his lips as an idea suddenly  occurred to him. Maybe near the end of the day, he'd give her a  call and see if she'd like to grab some supper with him. He was  sure he could make it sound casual - not date-like at all, just  friends. After all, he knew that anything that even hinted of a  date would frighten her off. But friends... he thought he might  just be able to pull that off. And seeing Lois while she was  relaxing... after last night's phone call, he was completely  intrigued with the possibility.

He wasn't sure where this new found courage came from. Up until  now, he'd been too afraid of losing Lois' friendship to ask her  out, even as a friend - as if she would see it as a violation of  some sort of unspoken agreement between them. Maybe the change  was a result of Lois' reaction to him while under the influence  of the pheromone compound. On some level, even if she didn't  recognize it herself, she was as attracted to him as he was to  her. That thought in itself gave him hope that if he took things  very, very slowly, worked at establishing a solid friendship with  her, maybe in time she would come to see him as something more  than just her friend or work partner.

"Clark! My office - now!"

Clark immediately changed direction, heading towards his boss'  office. "What's up, chief?"

"Shots fired. A report came in over the scanner last night."  Perry handed Clark a piece of paper.

"Do we know if anyone was hurt?"

Perry shook his head.

"Then what makes you think there's even a story there?"

"This shooting took place in one of the better sections of town.  Lots of rich penthouses. Lots of rich tourists. It's bound to get  media attention. I don't want the Planet to miss out."

"Where is it?"

"On Water Street."

Clark crinkled his brows. "Isn't that the street that runs past  the Lexor?"

"I think so."

"Well, chief, don't you think Lois is all over this by now?"

"Right," said Perry thoughtfully. "She was staying at the Lexor  this weekend, wasn't she."

"Well, why don't we wait to see what she finds out - then we can  decide if there's a story there."

"Clark, it's Lois' weekend off. We can't count on the fact that  she might be there to cover it."

Clark let out a breath. In some areas of the city, shots being  fired was just another horrible fact of life. Part of him  resented being sent on this assignment while other areas of the  city where shots had been fired wouldn't receive any press  coverage - areas which were in desperate need of media attention  and the potential changes which might result from such coverage.

"Why don't you send Ralph?" Clark said, attempting to hand the  paper back to Perry.

"I decide on assignments, Kent," Perry growled.

"I know that, Perry. But this..." He held up the paper. "Well, it  just doesn't seem to me as if there's a story there. And I have a  lot of things I want to get finished up today."

Perry eyed him suspiciously.

"I told Lois I'd try to get the follow up story on Miranda  today," Clark continued. "You know, the woman who tried to spray  all of Metropolis with her pheromone compound. Anyway, yesterday  we got a call from the Assistant District Attorney - some new  woman named Mayson Drake. I had a call into the D.A.'s office,  hoping to find out what Miranda was being charged with and  whether they knew if Miranda was planning to plead guilty, and  Ms. Drake called back yesterday. She didn't have time to meet  with us then, but she suggested I stop by today."

Perry nodded slowly. "You're probably right. This shooting  incident probably isn't going very far anyway. And I guess that's  what we have Ralph for."

Clark smiled, thankful that Perry wasn't going to make him cover  what was obviously a loser story. "Thanks, Perry."

* * * * * * * * *

Ralph crawled out of the cab, tossing some money at the cabby as  he headed without a backward glance towards the group of people  congregating around the police barrier.

"Jerk!"

Ralph ignored the yell of the cabby. Those guys were always  wanting a tip. Well, if they wanted a tip, they should learn to  drive. Daily Planet expenses only paid for the cab - not the tip.  And as long as that was the case, they shouldn't expect extra  money from him just because they got him to his destination in  one piece. A tip was meant to be a reward for extraordinary  service - not a routine addition to someone's wages.

Ralph was already feeling annoyed. He'd wasted a trip going to  the police station - figuring the investigating officers would  have returned to the station already - only to be told when he  arrived that everyone was still on Water Street. The least Perry  could have done when assigning him this story was to inform him  of that fact.

"Move aside. Move aside. Reporter coming through," Ralph said,  pushing his way past a number of incensed citizens to get to his  destination. He stopped at the police barricade and took a look  at the scene. He couldn't see a dead body - or a coroner's van.  Damn. Without a dead body, this wasn't going to be much of a  story. Now a dozen or so bodies... Lane would be so jealous if he  got a story like that. He could just see it now - 'and the winner  of this year's Kerth for best journalistic reporting is...' Lane  and Kent would be sitting on the edge of their seats. '...Ralph  Summers.'

He sighed. Since he didn't see any dead bodies, he guessed this  wasn't the story destined to win him that Kerth. Maybe he'd have  better luck next time.

Pushing his daydream to the back of his mind, he directed his  attention to getting the story. After all, the sooner he could  get this stupid story written up, the sooner he could give White  the slip and sneak out to enjoy the rest of his weekend.

He noticed a moderately attractive female police officer on the  other side of the barrier. He took a moment to straighten his  tie.

"Hey, babe," he called.

She glanced at him, giving him a quick once over before turning  away. He smiled. She'd obviously noticed him. "I'm with the Daily  Planet. You wanta see your name in print?"

She turned back towards him, her expression unreadable, before  making her way over to where Ralph was standing. "You're with the  Daily Planet?"

"Yeah," he said, running his eyes down her body in appreciation.  "I need some information for my story. How about you and I go get  a drink and discuss it?"

"You want information, go talk to our official media person." She  gestured towards a man surrounded by reporters a few feet away,  obviously answering questions, before turning around and walking  away.

"Dike," Ralph muttered before making his way over to hear the end  of the press conference. He took one of the press releases and  read through it.

Apparently, a few people had called 9-1-1 the previous night in  relation to some gunshots. The general consensus was that there  were two shots. They had not found any victims. They also did not  know who had fired the gun. No one had reported any intrusions  into their homes and the police wanted to assure people that this  was still the safest district in the city - and to assure  visitors to the great city of Metropolis that they were in no  danger.

Ralph looked back at the theoretical crime scene and rolled his  eyes. He figured he had about all he was going to get. He turned  around and noticed the same cab he'd just gotten out of was about  to drive off.

"Hold that cab!" he yelled, rushing towards the cab. He swore  when the cabby, after having glanced over at him, squealed his  tires, leaving Ralph staring at his taillights. "Now that would  be a useful story," muttered Ralph to himself. "Maybe a story  about the ignorance of Metropolis cabbies is something that would  shake things up. Maybe I'll mention that to Perry." Having ended  his monologue, he glared at a person nearby who was staring at  him as if he had lost his mind.

* * * * * * * * *

Perry was surprised when a beep on his computer informed him that  Ralph had just sent him the story on the Water Street shooting.  He read through the story, making a number of editorial changes.  It appeared Clark was right. No victim. A couple of gunshots. No  real crime. It was just as well he hadn't wasted Clark's talents  by sending him down to check out the situation.

He was just about to send the story to printing - a few inches to  bury well inside the paper - when he stopped. When Ralph had  first arrived back at the Planet, he'd mentioned that the police  had a section of the street cordoned off. Now... if there was no  victim, why had they done that? It made no sense unless...

Perry rose from his chair and made his way to the door to his  office. "Ralph!" he called into the newsroom. Everyone turned and  looked - everyone that was, except Ralph. Ralph was nowhere  insight. "Damn that boy," Perry muttered. There was something  going on down on Water Street - he could feel the familiar  feeling brewing in his gut telling him a story was there. He just  needed... "Clark!"

* * * * * * * * *

Part 03

Clark was amazed by the number of cops on Water Street when he  arrived. Given what Perry had told him, he'd expected to see a  section of the street cordoned off. But why were at least a dozen  cops milling around? Perry was right. There was a story there. A  few gunshots being fired wouldn't normally get such a large  police turnout. He spotted Inspector Henderson in the crowd. The  attendance of someone of Henderson's rank was even more  startling. Oh no. There was a much larger story there than the  one Ralph had written.

Since Clark had already spoken to Mayson Drake and obtained the  information he needed to wrap up the pheromone story, he  certainly had time to follow up on this. Mayson, as she had  insisted on being called, had been very pleasant - not at all the  stuffy lawyer type Clark had come to expect from the D.A.'s  office. It was a nice change. He suspected she and Lois would  really like each other.

He glanced at the building on his right and all thoughts of  Mayson instantly left his mind. The Lexor - where Lois was  staying. Once he had obtained the information he needed for this  story, maybe he would go in and check to see if Lois would like  to go for supper with him tonight.

In fact... he glanced around again, surprised when he didn't see  Lois already prowling around. If she looked out of the building  and saw this, no day off would keep her away from finding out  what was going on. She had the most overdeveloped sense of  curiosity of anyone Clark had ever known. On the other hand, it  was late morning. He wasn't sure whether Lois was naturally a  morning person or a night person. And since it was her weekend  off, it was entirely possible that she was still tucked in the  big bed in the honeymoon suite. At least he assumed the honeymoon  suite had a big bed. He shook his head. It was not a good idea to  let his mind head in that direction.

Clark spotted Bill Henderson slipping under the police barrier  and heading towards a couple standing nearby. Clark left the  crowd and approached the officer, hoping to get a word with  Henderson before he went back to the crime scene.

Still, unlike Lois' 'bull in a china shop' style, Clark kept his  distance, allowing Henderson to question the couple while he  waited for his chance to talk to the officer. Still, that didn't  stop him from listening in on Henderson's conversation as he  patiently waited for his moment to approach the inspector.

"I understand you're one of the people who called 9-1-1,"  Henderson said, pulling out his notebook and pen.

"My husband was," the woman standing next to an older man  responded. "We both heard the shots."

"What time was this?"

The woman looked at her husband. "About two?"

"Closer to two fifteen," the man responded. "We had been out for  the evening. We had just parked our car in underground parking  and gotten out when we heard a man yell something. Do you  remember what he yelled, honey?"

"It was muffled. But it was something like... I didn't catch most  of it. But at one point it almost sounded like he said, 'Report  her.' I looked at Jeff, but before I could ask him what he  thought was going on we heard the first shot."

"What happened then?" asked Henderson.

"Well, we weren't about to hang around to find out how many  gunshots were fired," said the woman defensively, as if expecting  Henderson to judge them for not running into the middle of a gun  fight. "So we headed as fast as possible for the building."

"That was when we heard a second shot," the man added. "We called  9-1-1 as soon as we were safely inside."

Henderson nodded as he looked around. "Did you see anything or  anyone when you were driving into the parking garage?"

"No," the man answered before looking at his wife. She briefly  met his eyes before shaking her head as well.

Clark cocked his head to the side, not entirely sure he believed  their last response.

"Are you sure? You didn't see anything?" Henderson asked.

By the tone of Henderson's question, Clark realized the inspector  was also having problems believing the couple's last answer.

"Well..." the woman said. Once again, husband and wife shared a  look before the wife seemed to make a decision. "We didn't see  anything when we were driving into the garage. But when we were  heading for the doors to the building, I glanced back, through  the entrance to the garage."

"And?" asked Henderson.

"I thought I might have seen someone fall into the water."

"Did you get a look at him?"

The woman shook her head. "Not really. He might have been wearing  a sweat suit and a wool cap. But it was dark. I couldn't even  tell you the color of his sweat suit."

Henderson nodded, completed his notes and then turned to head  back to the crime scene.

"Inspector Henderson," Clark called, finally jogging forward.  Henderson glanced back at him.

"Kent," Henderson said in acknowledgment before looking around.  "So where's that partner of yours?"

"She's off for the weekend."

"Lucky you."

Clark smiled. "Do I take by your question that she hasn't been by  pestering you today?"

"You take it correctly."

"So what can you tell me, Bill?" asked Clark, nodding his head  towards the area where the police appeared to be collecting  evidence.

"We got three 9-1-1 calls early this morning. All of them saying  approximately the same thing. Shots fired. Two said they thought  they saw someone fall into the river. One claimed they saw  someone shoot the person before they fell. So..." He gestured  Clark to follow him as he headed under the yellow rope holding  spectators away from the area. "...we came down here and this is  what we found." He walked over to the cast-iron railing that ran  along the river bank. The drop over the railing was steep into  the dark water below. Clark took a look over the side, briefly  pitying anyone who fell over that rail.

Redirecting his attention to what Henderson had obviously brought  him over to see, Clark noticed bloody hand prints on several  places along the railing. And drops of blood could clearly be  spotted on the sidewalk for a space of about ten feet on one side  of the hand prints and then following the prints, ending in a  larger amount of blood on the sidewalk next to the final hand  print. In the final pool of dried blood was a partial shoe print.

"Looks like a running shoe," said Clark.

"A small one. Yeah. Right now we're thinking the victim may have  been a teenager. Too small for a man's anyway."

"Have you found a body?"

Henderson shook his head. "Not yet. Although given the current, a  body that went in here could be found a long ways down river. Or  it could have snagged on something on the bottom. Or even been  victim to one of the boats that regularly use this river."

"Or the kid could have survived. Has anyone checked hospitals for  a gunshot victim?"

"Not yet. But we're just getting started."

"Any word on who the shooter might be?"

Henderson shook his head. "But the mayor is afraid a mugging so  close to so many expensive hotels might have a negative effect on  tourism. And so..." He gestured to all the police officers.

"Are you sure this was just a random mugging or could it have  been... something else?" Clark asked.

"Like what?" asked Henderson, obviously wondering if Clark was  getting at something.

"I don't know. Like..." He glanced around, wondering what else  might be going on. He spotted the building next to the Lexor. He  looked at the address on the building and suddenly was searching  his memory to figure out why that address seemed to ring a bell  for him. Suddenly it hit him. "Like political complications."

Henderson raised his eyebrows. "Political complications?"

"There is a Congressional Inquiry about to start here in  Metropolis. A lot of the head honchoes are apparently renting  suites in this apartment building." He pointed to the apartment  building next to the Lexor. "Not to mention staff and other  workers."

Henderson's eyebrows shot up. "The Congressional Inquiry into  organized crime?" He waited for Clark to nod before continuing.  "Well, that is something worth looking into."

"Inspector, I think you should hear this," said a police officer  a number of feet away.

Both Clark and Bill turned towards the officer who was standing  next to a young man in his late teens. Two older people,  seemingly his parents, stood nearby.

"Excuse me," said Henderson, leaving Clark to head towards the  officer.

Clark let Henderson go alone, but using his special hearing  abilities he listened to the conversation.

"This young man was on his way back to the hotel shortly after  two when he saw something I think you should know about."

"What's your name?" Henderson asked.

"Stan Young."

"Okay, Mr. Young. What did you see?" Henderson asked.

"I went to the Pearl Jam concert last night with some friends  from the city. It was really rocking. Anyway, it was late when I  got back. I was just getting out of a cab when I saw two men  leaning over the railing over there." He pointed towards the  railing where the bloody hand print had been found. "They seemed  to be looking for something. But I didn't think anything of it.  One of them was short with grey hair. The other was younger. A  big guy in a black leather jacket."

"Do you think you'd recognize them if you saw them again?"

Young hesitated. "I don't know. It was pretty dark."

Henderson nodded. "Would you be willing to take a look at some  mug-shots, maybe work with our sketch artist?"

"Yeah, cool," Young responded, as if thrilled to be involved in a  police investigation.

"Inspector," said another voice, directing both Henderson and  Clark's attention to a police officer standing near the railing.

Henderson quickly directed the young man to whom he'd been  speaking to another officer - one who would take him downtown to  review mug shots and, if necessary, talk to their sketch artist.  Then he made his way over to the officer who had just called him.  Clark followed behind.

"I just found this."

Henderson bent down to take a look at the wooden post at the end  of the railing. He studied a small hole he could see there. "Take  some pictures and then see if there's a bullet in there."

Clark lowered his glasses down his nose and peered over top of  them, confirming the existence of a bullet, before looking around  to see if he could spot anything else that might shed light on  this mystery. A small tool of some sort was half buried in the  dirt on the far side of the railing. Clark moved closer to take a  look. It appeared to be one of the tools from a lock picking kit  - almost like one that Lois... Suddenly, Clark got a sinking  feeling in his stomach as everything he'd learned so far began to  fall into a disturbing pattern. No. That was crazy. It couldn't  be. He glanced towards the hotel.

"Did you find something?" asked Henderson, approaching Clark from  behind.

Clark pointed at the small tool. Henderson motioned a  photographer over to take a couple of pictures before leaning  over to pick it up with a handkerchief. But Clark was no longer  thinking about the officer. Instead his mind continued to work  overtime. 'Report her.' Small shoe print which could very well  belong to a woman. Lock picking equipment. Lois in the honeymoon  suite. Lois not prowling around the crime scene.

"Looks like a lock picking tool," said Henderson, examining the  item. "Maybe the perpetrators were caught breaking into someone's  apartment and when he woke up and tried to escape, they shot him.  Got to get this down to the lab right away to check for prints.  It's awfully small - but still, we might get lucky and pull a  partial."

"Excuse me, Inspector," said Clark, heading at a brisk pace  towards the hotel.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter while the  hotel employee assisted a couple who were in the process of  checking out. He glanced towards the elevators. He knew Lois was  staying in the 'honeymoon suite'. But was there more than one?  And would the room have 'honeymoon suite' on the door - if not,  what was the number? And what floor of the building was it  located on?

He didn't know if the lock picking tool he'd found at the crime  scene belonged to Lois. But that combined with the fact that Lois  had not yet put in an appearance left a huge hole in his gut. He  had to know she was all right. After all, if anyone could find  herself in the middle of trouble while taking a weekend off to  relax, it was Lois. Not only that, but Clark wasn't sure he'd  ever met a person who had as many enemies as Lois. The list of  people wanting revenge against her was almost as long as... the  people wanting revenge against Superman.

Of course, he had spoken to her last night - and she hadn't given  any indication she was doing anything other than relaxing. Or was  that true? His mind suddenly flashed back to a comment she'd made  last night that had confused him. 'Congressman Harrington.' At  the time he had thought the television must be on and that she  was responding to something she was seeing on TV. But what if  that wasn't true? Could Harrington have been in her room? He  didn't see how, but...

He glanced back at the man behind the desk, silently willing him  to hurry up.

"Can I help you?" the man finally asked as the other couple  turned to leave.

"Yes. Could you tell me what room Lois Lane is in?" Clark tried  to keep the panic he was beginning to feel from coming through in  his voice. After all, he didn't know anything. He was probably  overreacting. Still, he just had to see Lois - to know that she  was all right.

"I'm afraid giving out room numbers is against hotel policy," the  man answered.

"But..."

"What I can do is call her room for you. What's your name?"

"Clark Kent," Clark answered, clenching and unclenching his fist.

Not seeming to notice Clark's building frustration, the man  turned towards the computer on the counter. Clark quickly glanced  around. Spotting a metallic plaque on the wall behind the  computer, he lowered his glasses down his nose and focused on the  reflective surface. He changed his position slightly until he  could see the screen of the computer on which the man was typing.  He enlarged the image and when Lois' name came up, found the  number of her room.

The man picked up the phone, but Clark was no longer there.  Ignoring the elevators, he ascended the stairs at superspeed  until he was standing in front of a door which had a 'do not  disturb' sign hanging on the doorknob. He hesitated for a second,  wondering if he was just overreacting. If everything was all  right, how might Lois react to his appearance at her hotel door?  For a moment, he was tempted to sneak a peek through the wall.

No. His best bet was just to knock. In all likelihood, she was  still sound asleep in bed, enjoying her time off. He had no right  violating her privacy by looking through the door. She might  think he was crazy for worrying. In fact, at this moment he might  even welcome her annoyance at his overprotectiveness. It was a  hundred times better than the alternative.

He knocked on the door and was shocked when it swung open under  the force of his fist tapping against it. At first, he thought he  had misjudged his strength, given his increasingly fearful state.  His heart leapt into his throat when he realized the door hadn't  been properly closed in the first place.

Trying to ignore the blood pounding in his ears, he slowly pushed  the door open the rest of the way.

"Omigod," he breathed when he looked inside the ransacked room.  It was only a matter of seconds before he was again making his  way through the police barrier to talk to Henderson.

* * * * * * * * *

"The honeymoon suite?" Henderson asked for clarification.

Clark nodded.

"Lois Lane in the honeymoon suite?" Henderson asked again, as if  not quite able to reconcile those two concepts.

Clark let out a breath. "Bill, this isn't about where Lois  chooses to get away from it all. The point is, Lois is missing."

"Slow down, Kent. Don't you think that you might be jumping to  conclusions here? She isn't in her room so... what? You think  that she's somehow... our victim here? Or are you trying to tell  me she was the one doing the shooting?" When he realized he'd  ruffled Clark's feathers with his final comment, he rushed to  continue. "Be reasonable, Clark. I know she's your partner,  but..."

"I'm not overreacting," Clark cut in, surprising both the officer  and himself by the force of his comment. He took a deep breath to  calm himself. "Think about it, Bill. Lois finds trouble like a  magnet finds metal filings." When Henderson opened his mouth,  Clark raised his hand. "The break-in tool we found... Lois has  one just like it."

Henderson's eyebrows shot up. "You do know even possessing those  is illegal."

Clark ignored the comment. "If Lois left that hotel this morning,  she'd have immediately come here to see what was going on."

"That's true enough."

"That shoe print..." He pointed at the print in the blood. "It  could belong to a boy - like you said. But... couldn't it also  belong to a woman?"

"I suppose, but..."

"From what I heard, none of your witnesses could give a  description of the person who went into the water - so couldn't  it have been a woman?"

"Sure. But that doesn't mean..."

"Also, one of your witnesses heard someone say something like,  'Report her.'"

"You heard that?"

Clark ignored the question. He was too concerned about Lois at  the moment to worry about giving his secret away. "What if she  heard 'Reporter?' So I went to Lois' room. It's been ransacked."

Henderson was moving towards the Lexor almost before Clark  finished his final word. "Take me to her room," he demanded.

When Clark nodded, Henderson called over to two of his best  evidence collectors. "Serge... Mike... Come with me."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 04

Clark felt like a caged animal as he watched police officers  prowl around Lois' hotel room. Henderson had told him that  although they would dust for prints, a hotel room often had  hundreds of prints so there was little chance of finding the  perpetrators in that manner. On the other hand, if they had a  suspect, and on the off chance he hadn't worn gloves, they might  be able to prove he had been in the room - when exactly he had  been in the room would be another question.

Clark had spent the first part of the time on the phone, calling  Lois' apartment, calling Perry to see if she had checked in  there, even scoping out the entire hotel with his hearing and  supervision. He had considered calling Lois' folks, but didn't  want to worry them - especially when, knowing what he did about  Lois' relationship with her parents, he didn't think she would  have gone to see either of them. Even his call to Perry had been  as casual as possible, trying not to pass on his fears to Perry -  although he was fairly certain Perry knew something was up.

Now he could think of nothing else to do. His eyes landed on the  large, heart-shaped tub in the bedroom. That was where Lois had  been when he had been talking to her on the phone the previous  night. He walked slowly closer, in his mind picturing Lois in  that tub, completely naked except for the bubbles, which somehow  only served to make the image even more erotic. The bubbles in  the tub had long since disappeared, although Lois had obviously  never emptied the water. Clark sighed slightly when he finally  arrived at the edge of the tub. He really could imagine her  there, soaking in the bubbles, a gas fire jumping in the  fireplace, soft music playing in the background, slow music,  romantic music.

He gave his head a quick shake, trying to bring his mind back  from the direction it seemed to be taking. He was just about to  turn away from the tub when the hint of something black in the  water caught Clark's attention.

"Inspector," he called.

Henderson came up behind him. "What is it, Clark?"

"What do you think that is?"

Henderson bent beside the tub and reached his hand, one covered  with a plastic glove, into the water. When he withdrew his hand,  he was holding a small camera. He turned and looked at Clark,  eyebrows raised. "Any ideas?"

"It's Lois' camera."

Henderson looked back at the camera, turning it over in his  hands. "Well, it does seem to be waterproof. Why would Lois have  a waterproof camera?"

Clark shrugged. "You know Lois. Why does she do anything?"

Henderson chuckled. "But how would it have ended up in the tub?"

"I don't know. Maybe she knocked it into the tub in her effort to  leave the room in a hurry."

"Well, until we can ask her, I guess the only thing we can do is  to get the film developed and then..."

"Umm... Inspector..." Clark's voice trailed off. Considering  where the camera had been found, the content of the film was  somewhat questionable. Clark couldn't imagine Lois posing for  nude photos. But then... how much of what had transpired the  previous night had been her decision? But given that Lois had to  work with the police...

"I'll make sure one of our female lab techs develops the photos.  And I'll make sure no one sees them unless I deem it necessary,"  Henderson said as if reading Clark's mind.

"Thanks, Bill."

"Inspector," called a tech from the direction of the washroom.

"Yeah, Serge?" Henderson called back.

"Does Kent know if this is Lane's hair brush?"

Henderson looked over at Clark. Clark shook his head. "Sorry. I  just don't know."

"Well, chances are it is - so take it."

"Bill?" asked Clark.

"If that is Lois' hair, we should be able to get a DNA sample to  compare with the blood we got from the railing on Water Street."

Clark felt as if he'd been sucker-punched. It must have shown on  his face, because Henderson rushed to continue.

"Even if it is her blood, we still haven't found a body - so  that's good news."

Clark's head suddenly snapped up, wondering why that thought  hadn't occurred to him before. "Would you excuse me, Bill? I'd  like to see if I can find Superman. If Lois did go into the river  and was able to climb out, Superman might be able to find her.  And if she was shot, she might need help immediately."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark collapsed on the riverbank, completely exhausted. He'd  spent hours exploring every building, every alley and even every  dumpster for several miles down river from the Lexor and had been  unable to find anything. Not that he could be sure he hadn't  missed something. Some drop of blood. Some torn article of  clothing. Something. Anything that might lead him to Lois. Still,  he'd found nothing.

Actually, that wasn't exactly true. Beside a dumpster in the  alley near the Lexor, he'd found Lois' money belt. He'd  recognized it immediately and inwardly cringed at the further  confirmation that Lois had been outside the hotel the previous  night. He tried and failed to find a reason why Lois would have  left her money belt outside that didn't involve foul play. He  wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or terrified that her  money was still inside. What it did prove was that whatever had  happened to Lois hadn't been a simple mugging. He supposed the  one good thing about it not being a mugging was that if this was  some move against Lois herself, they might not have wanted her  dead. They might have taken her somewhere. He closed his eyes and  fought the urge to groan at the very idea that Lois being held  hostage was almost a relief. But the truth was that if Lois was a  hostage, she was still alive. And if there was any possibility  she was alive, if it took the rest of his life and all of his  energy, he would find her. He would search heaven and earth if he  had to.

It was getting dark before Clark, after taking Lois' money belt  to Henderson and doing a quick check of her apartment, his  apartment, and the Lexor in hopes that she had turned up, finally  headed towards the Daily Planet, unsure exactly what he was going  to tell Perry and dreading that encounter.

* * * * * * * * *

"What the Sam Hill is going on, Clark?"

Clark flinched when he saw his boss. He wasn't sure if Perry's  comment was because he had already heard that Lois was missing or  if it was because Clark hadn't checked in with him all day and  had no story to submit for the paper. "I'm sorry, Chief. I..."

"Henderson called about an hour ago," Perry continued, cutting  Clark off. "He said to tell you that the hair from the brush they  found in the honeymoon suite was a match to the blood on the  railing. I guess he thought I knew what was going on because when  I asked what the hell he was talking about, he hesitated and then  said that he needed to come by - and would tell me then."

Clark put out his hand, searching desperately to find something  to steady himself against as confirmation that the victim of this  attack was indeed Lois penetrated his brain. He'd been holding on  to the hope, no matter how small, that the ransacking of Lois'  room and her apparent disappearance were unconnected to the  events on Water Street - that she was somewhere in hot pursuit of  a completely different story.

"Son?" asked Perry, coming over and grabbing onto Clark as he  swayed slightly. "Let's go to my office."

Clark gave a brief nod as he allowed Perry to guide him in the  appropriate direction. His legs only seemed to last long enough  for him to plop into a chair in his boss' office. He dropped his  head into his hands as the full weight of the situation sank in.

"What's going on?" asked Perry, taking a seat on the corner of  his desk.

Clark glanced up at the older man, only realizing too late the  anguish that must be on his face when he noticed Perry's face  turn white.

"Lois?" Perry breathed.

Unable to find his voice, Clark simply nodded as tears began  congregating in the corners of his eyes.

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning, son," Perry said, his  voice suddenly husky with emotion.

Clark knew it was killing Perry not to know, and that he was  assuming the worst right now. But it wasn't as if he was going to  be comforted by Clark's information - so maybe there was no rush  in taking away any remaining hope. He glanced through the windows  into the newsroom, looking for Lois' desk, hoping against hope  that this was all just some bad dream and he would see Lois  typing furiously into her computer. What he saw instead was Jimmy  pacing nervously, looking continuously at Perry's office.

"Jimmy should be in here," said Clark, knowing that the kid would  want to be in the loop on this one and realizing he wouldn't be  capable of repeating the story twice.

* * * * * * * * *

Both Jimmy and Perry were absolutely silent when Clark finally  finished telling them the entire story. Clark was amazed that  he'd managed to explain everything without breaking down. Oh  sure, he'd had to clear his throat a few times and his voice kept  having a tendency to crack. Still, he'd managed to fill Perry and  Jimmy in with minimal interruptions. Clark's eyes met those of  Perry and saw there the same fear he knew was in his eyes. It  occurred to Clark that Perry was suddenly looking every one of  his years.

"So no one has found her body yet - not even Superman?" asked  Jimmy, finally breaking the silence.

"No," Clark confirmed, breaking eye contact with Perry.

"So there's still hope that she's alive," said Jimmy.

A sad smile pulled at one corner of Clark's mouth. "There's still  hope," he confirmed, although he couldn't say he felt very  hopeful at the moment. He rose to his feet.

"Where you going, Clark?" Perry asked.

"To check the waterfront again. Maybe Superman missed something.  Maybe if I..."

"Sit down," said Perry.

"I can't, Perry. I've got to... I've got to..."

"I know, son," said Perry, guiding Clark back to his chair. "And  we will. But there's no point running around like chickens with  our heads cut off. We need to come up with a plan."

Clark closed his eyes and clenched his fists. A long moment  passed before he finally nodded. He was the strongest man in the  world - and yet now, when it counted the most, he was helpless.  He forced himself to pull himself together. Lois needed him to be  strong now, stronger than he'd ever been before he suspected -  her life might very well depend on it. Finally, he opened his  eyes. "Where do we start, Perry?"

As if he had been waiting for Clark to regain control, Perry  finally spoke. "Well, has anyone checked local hospitals for  gunshot victims?"

"I can do that, chief," Jimmy said, turning towards the door.

Clark almost got the impression the kid was as anxious to get  away from the tension in Perry's office as he was to find Lois.  He quickly dismissed that thought as uncharitable. Lois was  Jimmy's friend, too. In fact, Clark suspected Jimmy was half in  love with the woman. "Thanks, Jimmy," he said, forcing himself to  give Jimmy a reassuring smile as he left the room.

* * * * * * * * *

Henderson entered the Daily Planet and looked around. The  majority of the staff had called it a night. There were some  notable exceptions. Jimmy Olsen, whom Henderson had only met  once, was seated at a desk, a phone book in front of him, and  Perry White and Clark Kent were engaged in a discussion in the  editor's office.

Taking a deep breath, Henderson headed towards White's office. He  only hoped Clark had already filled Perry in on the situation -  otherwise Henderson was going to have to be the one to tell White  that his star reporter was in all likelihood the victim of a  shooting incident. And he really wasn't looking forward to that.  His impression was that White was very fond of his feisty  reporter. Breaking this news to him would not be a pleasant task.  Still, there really was no other option. In order to confirm that  Lois was the one whose blood they had found, they really needed  to obtain a fingerprint. After all, although it was logical to  assume that the hair in the brush at the honeymoon suite belonged  to Lois, there was a chance, however small, that the brush had  belonged to a previous occupant.

"Henderson," Perry growled huskily, directing Clark's attention  to the officer as well.

The grim expressions on the faces of both men told Henderson that  Perry was now aware of the situation.

"Mr. White," Henderson said, his normally gruff voice sounding  suspiciously soft. He stuck out his hand, taking Perry's when  Perry rose from behind his desk. "I take it Kent, here, has told  you what's going on."

"So what are you doing to find my top reporter?" Perry growled,  ignoring Henderson's question and yet at the same time answering  it.

"Well, officially, we're still trying to find out if it is your  top reporter we're looking for."

Perry snorted.

"I don't know if Kent told you, but we found a camera in Lois'  hotel room."

"A camera?" asked Perry, looking at Clark who nodded to confirm  Henderson's statement.

Henderson handed a brown envelope to Perry. Clark rose,  approaching Perry as the older man opened the envelope and  removed the enclosed pictures.

"We've managed to confirm that these pictures were taken through  the window of the honeymoon suite of the Lexor - into a suite in  the apartment building next door. Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street.  Kent said the camera belonged to Lane." He paused for a moment.  "So what was Lane actually working on? Kent said she was taking a  few days off, but those..." He pointed to the pictures. "... seem  to tell a different story. I assume you had her working on  something without Kent's knowledge. At least I wouldn't think  Kent here would lie to the police - at least about something that  might affect our ability to find his partner."

Perry continued flipping through the pictures. "I didn't have her  working on anything. But Lois doesn't go anywhere without her  camera. When she saw what was going on, and who was in that room,  she must have decided to take the pictures. On the other hand, I  suspected she had a lead on a story when we found out she had  reservations in the honeymoon suite at the Lexor. But this..." He  pointed to a picture which was particularly suggestive of a sex  party. "...this isn't Lois' type of story - no matter who the  politicians are."

Henderson crinkled his eyebrows as he took a closer look at the  pictures. "Do you know the identities of the men in those  pictures?"

Perry nodded. "That's Congressman Harrington. And Congressman  Spencer."

"I think this man is a congressional aide," added Clark, looking  at the pictures over Perry's shoulder. "I'm not sure which  congressman he's attached to - Bower, maybe."

Perry pointed to another picture. "And this... this... I'm  surprised to see him there."

"Who is it?"

"Bill Church Jr."

"Who is he?"

"Bill Church Sr. is the owner of the Cost Mart chain. Junior  works for his father. I don't know how he would even know the  congressmen - although a man like Bill Church Sr. probably knows  a lot of politicians. But Harrington, Spencer and..." He looked  at Clark. "Bower?" He waited until Clark nodded before  continuing. "All three of those men are here for the  Congressional Inquiry into organized crime in this country. Of  course, they could all just be friends of Junior."

"So what are you saying? This gathering might just be a... social  occasion? Maybe Church Jr. was just blowing off a little steam  with the guys after a long day's work? No connection to the  Inquiry?"

Perry thought about that for a moment. He'd known Bill Church Jr.  all his life. He'd bounced him on his knee as a child, for crying  out loud. But then... why was Lois missing? "I guess I really  don't know," said Perry. Normally he'd be defending Church. But  with Lois missing, no one was above suspicion. "Maybe you're  right. Maybe Lois discovered that Church and the congressmen were  up to no good. Maybe they saw her taking pictures and came after  her."

Henderson nodded. "Okay, then I'll talk to Harrington, Spencer,  Bower's aide and Church tomorrow. I'll be sure to keep you  informed about what I find out."

"Good," Perry said, still lost in thought. Maybe he'd do a little  digging around as well. After all, once upon a time he'd been  quite a reporter himself.

"I also had an idea," said Clark. "I was thinking I'd write a  story saying that the Daily Planet is missing its star reporter.  Put Lois' picture with it - although I don't think we should  connect it to the shooting on Water Street. Anyway, if I write  it, can you get it in the morning edition?"

"Yeah. I'll tell them to hold the presses."

"And I spoke to Superman earlier. He said to tell the public that  Superman will consider it a personal favor if anyone with  information calls the Daily Planet or the MPD. Why do you look  like you don't approve, Bill?"

"You do realize that if you run this, you will be swamped with  phone calls from loonies and glory-hounds trying to cash in on  their fifteen minutes of fame."

"If it gives us even one good lead, it will be worth it."

"Then you better take the MPD reference out of that article. You  might be willing to be swamped with phony leads, but we don't  have the manpower for it."

Clark looked over at Perry.

Perry nodded. "Let's do it." He hadn't really considered that  aspect of it. The suits upstairs would... Screw the suits  upstairs! If he had to hire some temp workers, that's what he  would do. His top reporter was missing, after all. And he'd be  damned if he'd let a little money keep him from doing everything  in his power to get her back.

"Anyway, the reason I'm here is that I'd like to try to get  Lane's fingerprints to compare with the prints we got from the  rail earlier. I was hoping you'd agree to let us dust her desk  for prints."

Perry hesitated for a moment. Letting the police get Lois'  fingerprints could have detrimental, long-term consequences to a  reporter who had a habit of skirting the edges of the law,  sometimes even stepping over the line, to get a story.

"I promise they will only be used to confirm that they're Lois'  prints on the rail," said Henderson, as if realizing the reasons  for Perry's hesitation.

"They'll be destroyed after Lois is found?" Perry asked for  clarification.

"I'll see to it myself."

Perry looked at Clark who nodded his approval.

"Then be my guest, Inspector."

Henderson turned to Clark. "Could you show me which desk belongs  to your partner?"

"Sure," said Clark.

"Oh, and Kent, before I forget, I was wondering if you might have  some way to get ahold of Superman," said Henderson.

"I might. Why?"

"Well, it would be a big help if he could drag the river for us -  see if he can find Lane's bod... well, if he can find anything."

"Superman will not waste his time looking for Lois' body," Clark  responded, his voice rising. "All of his energy is going into  finding her - alive! She's not dead! And I... he will not give up  on..."

"If he wants us to find her alive, the best thing he can do right  now is to drag the river," Henderson interrupted.

Clark was stunned. He glanced at Perry, who looked just as  confused as he, before looking back at the inspector. "I don't  understand."

"Dragging the river... which according to protocol has to be our  next step, will take hundreds of man hours. Man hours we could  use trying to solve this case... and finding Lois, if she's...  Well, you know what I mean."

Clark stared at the inspector in disbelief. Did he have any idea  what exactly he was asking of Superman... of Clark? The very  thought of spending his time in the murky waters of the river  searching for Lois' lifeless body... How was he supposed to cope  with that? But hundreds of police hours which could be used to  solve this case... He closed his eyes, fighting to retain control  of his emotions. "I'll see if I can find him," said Clark when he  thought his voice was steady enough. He turned to Perry. "About  that story, Perry..."

"I'll write it, Clark. It will be on the front page of the  morning edition of the Daily Planet."

Clark nodded and turned to head out of the newsroom.

"Oh and Clark..." Perry waited until Clark looked back before  continuing. "Stay with Superman until he's finished, would you?  Doing this is going to be very hard on him. He'll probably  appreciate having you there."

Clark wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. If Perry suspected he  was Superman - and a part of him had often wondered if Perry did  - then he'd just given Clark the perfect excuse not to return to  the Planet until this assignment was complete. On the other hand,  if Perry didn't know, then he'd just reinforced in Clark's mind  what it would cost him to do this. He couldn't believe how much  he wished he had a friend around who could help him cope with  what this search was bound to do to him. In fact, at this moment  he'd give almost anything for Lois to be the one to fill that  void in his life. Of course, were she here, there wouldn't be a  need for.... He gave his head a slight shake. Without a word,  Clark turned around and headed towards the stairs.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 05

Clark sank down on the edge of the roof of the Lexor, dangling  his feet over the side. He'd dived what felt like hundreds of  times beneath the murky surface of the West River. At first, he  simply dove haphazardly, too upset by the assignment to approach  it logically. But after the first dozen dives, he had forced  himself to calm down and follow a grid pattern. He had done a  survey of the river from above, but with all the muck in the  water, diving down had been the only way to ensure that he didn't  miss anything - even with the advantage of x-ray vision. After  all, unlike x-raying a wall where, once his eyes had seen through  the barrier, he had a clear view of everything on the other side,  he had to be careful when x-raying through mucky waters. If he  wasn't, it was all too easy to accidentally x-ray through the  very thing he wanted to see. This time, he couldn't take that  risk.

He wrapped his cape around himself, using it to protect himself  from the chill of the night air. Normally the cold didn't affect  him - but this night was anything but normal. He shivered. If it  was this cold in the air, what must it have been like for Lois,  shot, bleeding, plunging into cold water? When he closed his  eyes, he could see her fighting against the currents, her body  battered and bloody. He could see the terror in her eyes. He  could hear her gasping for air, battling to breathe. He could  feel her desperation as she struggled to live. Why hadn't she  called for him? He would have dropped everything, not that he'd  been doing anything anyway, to rescue her. Didn't she know that?

Once he'd finished searching the river, at least as much as he'd  been able to do without going completely mad, he'd checked in  with Perry. Perry was digging up everything he could about  Congressmen Harrington, Spencer and Bower as well as Bill Church  Jr. and Cost Mart stores. Jimmy had checked all the hospitals and  morgues and had found no sign of Lois. Then he'd broken into  Lois' computer files - trying to figure out if she had been  working on something connected to her disappearance.

When Jimmy had finished, Perry had sent him to spend the night at  Lois' place. Clark shook his head, recalling the moment Perry had  pulled a whole set of keys out of a hiding place in Lois' desk.  Keys to her apartment, he had explained. All three men had stared  for a long time at the keys, each lost in their own thoughts and  memories about the number of locks on Lois' doors - and what that  said about the missing woman. Then Perry had handed them to  Jimmy, instructing him to spend the night at Lois' apartment,  just in case she returned there.

Clark was glad Perry had suggested that Jimmy be the one to stay  at Lois' apartment for the night. Clark wasn't sure he could  handle being there right now - being surrounded by reminders of  Lois. He suspected Perry had understood that. Clark wondered if a  normal person would notice it, but with his sense of smell, he  would always know he was in Lois' apartment, even without his  sight, just because of the way it smelled of her. He wasn't sure  he could handle that tonight. So instead, he was waiting on top  of the Lexor, just in case she found her way back to her hotel  room.

Her hotel room was currently a crime scene - which was why it was  absolutely critical he be there if she arrived. After all, when  she realized she couldn't get into her room, she would  undoubtedly leave again. And if she was hurt... No. Someone had  to wait for her at the Lexor.

He glanced across the city to the large clock which was clearly  visible on the top of City Hall. It was nearly three o'clock in  the morning. He really should go inside. If he simply sat down  outside the door to her hotel room, even if he fell asleep, if  she found him there, she was certain to wake him. Still, from his  current location he could hear if anyone went remotely near her  room. And he needed a moment more of looking out over the city,  hoping the illusion of peace brought about by watching the city  from above at night would calm him.

But his thoughts remained anything but calm. They were a swirl of  images and emotions - all of them revolving around the most  incredible woman he had ever met. From the moment he'd first laid  eyes on her, he'd been hooked. It wasn't just that she was a  beautiful woman - although she certainly was.

Before meeting Lois, he had thought he was more attracted to  blondes. Now... Now he was firmly in the brunette camp. It amazed  him how one woman storming into his life had instantly changed  everything. Her eyes twinkled with such a depth of emotion -  whether it be anger, or mischief, or excitement. Her eyes had  first informed Clark how much more there was to the woman than  she wanted people to see. Her face was perfect - high cheekbones,  a button nose and a smile that could make his heart come to a  complete standstill. She could give him a look that would freeze  his blood or cause it to heat to dangerous temperatures. And her  body... a slow smile made its way across his face as he thought  about that perfect body, a body he could almost believe had been  made specifically to his specifications. He'd never been sure if  he was a leg or a breast man - but with Lois he hadn't had to  make a choice. Legs that went on forever beneath those short  skirts she seemed to favor. Well toned and perfectly muscled. And  her chest... For some reason whenever he looked at Lois' chest,  he was reminded of a Seinfeld episode he'd seen about a year ago:  'They're real and they're spectacular.'

Yet it hadn't been her looks that had hooked him that first day.  After all, he'd met lots of beautiful women in his life. It had  been her spirit. After their brief encounter in Perry's office,  he felt as if he'd been standing in the direct path of a tornado.  Her spirit was the first thing he'd fallen in love with.

That last thought caught him off guard. In love. Was he really in  love with Lois? The answer hit him just like a proverbial ton of  bricks. Yes. He'd never quite allowed himself to use that  expression when thinking of Lois until now. He knew he adored  her. He knew she made him feel alive. He missed her when they  were apart and felt excited at the thought of seeing her. And he  knew that he'd give her the world if she would only ask. But in  love? Those were scary words. But now, this night, sitting alone  looking out into the dark, terrified that he'd never again be  able to look into her eyes, he realized that he'd been in love  with her all along. Before now, to actually allow himself to  think that he was in love with her... It had been a terrifying  thought. Although at this moment he really wasn't entirely sure  what he'd been so scared of.

He focused on that thought for a moment. When he'd asked Lois out  while they had been investigating their first story, he hadn't  thought much about it. It had been... kind of an impulse  decision. He hadn't repeated the invitation immediately  afterwards because of the fight which had resulted on that  occasion. But why hadn't he asked her out since? Why was he so  scared to let her know that he'd like to see what else might be  possible between them? He had always told himself he was afraid  he'd lose her friendship if he did. But did he really think she  would allow an invitation to supper ruin their friendship or  their partnership? No. If he were honest with himself, she wasn't  the only one scared of pursuing a relationship. The truth was  they were both scared of letting anyone get too close. She,  because of her fear of getting her heart broken. He, because of  his fear of letting anyone know about Superman.

He gave his head a slight shake. He knew he had nothing to fear  from Lois as far as Superman was concerned. She would never  betray him or his folks for the sake of a story. She was fiercely  loyal where her friends were concerned. His fear was due to  something different. He had told himself he had to know if she  would love him for himself and not for the powers, but he knew  Lois wasn't that shallow. What she loved about Superman was what  he stood for - because she stood for the same things. He had  always been afraid, not that she would think more of Clark, but  that she would think less of Superman. How would she feel about  her hero if she found out that he was as fallible as any ordinary  man? If he were honest with himself, his fear was that she would  quit loving Superman. It was that, more than anything else, that  had kept him from actively pursuing Lois Lane as plain old Clark  Kent. Having her love only part of him was better than not having  her love him at all.

It all seemed so stupid and selfish to him now. He snorted. Leave  it to him only to realize his own fears were the real reason he  hadn't pursued Lois until he lost... He closed his eyes and  clenched his jaw. All the time he had been searching the river,  he'd been telling himself he was only doing it to prove she  wasn't dead, that he was freeing up the MPD so they could  concentrate on finding her. It had been the only way to keep his  sanity during the search, afraid any second he could discover her  bloated, lifeless body. And then when he hadn't found her body,  he'd tried to tell himself it was because she was still alive.  The problem was that given the power of the current in the West  River, her body could easily have been carried into Hobbs Bay, or  by now, even the ocean.

The search had easily been the worst thing he'd ever had to do.  The stench of the river, even now, seemed to cling to every  molecule of his body, rising into the air as if it were the reek  of death itself, reminding him of every excruciating minute of  that search. He had approached every shape and form with his  heart in his throat. On more occasions than he could count, he  had reached out to pull something out of the way only to watch  his hand tremble. Every shadow had been Lois. He had never before  known such terror. It penetrated every fiber of his body, leaving  his legs feeling weak, his head in a fog, unable to focus for  long on any one thing, and his heart pounding painfully.

His heart still hoped... believed... it believed Lois was alive.  His head was the part of his anatomy giving him problems. If she  was alive, where was she? Why hadn't she contacted him or yelled  for Superman? Hell, he was currently so in tune with her that if  she as much as breathed his name, he was certain he would hear  it. And yet, there had not been the slightest sign of her -  except those that pointed towards her being dead.

He had finally found someone special. Someone able to accept  those aspects of his life which had always made him different.  Someone who was his equal. Someone with whom he could laugh,  fight and maybe, just maybe, have a future. Someone who he could  love with his whole heart. Someone he just knew would be able to  understand and support him. Someone who caused every nerve ending  in his body to come to life just by entering a room. Yet before  he had even acted on his feelings, it was entirely possible she'd  been taken from him. It felt as if someone had torn a gigantic  hole in the center of his chest, leaving only a vacuum where his  heart had once been.

He would keep searching. He would search for the rest of his life  if he had to. But... what if she were dead? Dead. His heart sank.  What if Lois were dead? He'd never even bothered telling her how  incredible he thought she was, how just one sight of her in the  morning, one whiff of her perfume, even just the sound of her  heartbeat made him feel alive in a way he never had before. What  if she were gone and all he was left with was regrets, regrets of  things he'd never said, things they'd never done together - would  never do together? A tear trickled down his cheek to fall  unheeded to the ground.

She made him feel alive. She was like a force of nature,  transforming the world around her by the sheer power of her will.  It was as if he had been born the moment she'd stormed into  Perry's office only a few months before. Everything before that  was a reflection, a poor imitation of living. If she were dead,  everything he would do from now on would be done in the shadow of  a moment when he'd stood in the light of her sun.

He was being melodramatic. He knew that. But that didn't stop the  deep ache in his soul. It was almost a physical pain, a crushing  sensation in his chest. He had to do something. But what?

What would Lois do if their situations were reversed? Not that  that was a terribly good example. After all, she didn't feel for  him the things he felt for her. Still, if she were in his  situation, if she had lost someone she loved with her whole  heart... What would Lois do? Clark raised his head and set his  chin in determination when he knew what Lois would want him to do  now, what she'd kill him for not doing. She'd want him to pursue  the story, find the people who had done this to her and bring  them to justice. Well, that was exactly what he would do. He  couldn't let the bastards get away with whatever they had done to  Lois. He'd find them. He'd bring them to justice. And he would  find Lois. And together they would write the story - and no  one... no one would get there first.

* * * * * * * * * SUNDAY * * * * * * * * *

The early morning sunlight was streaming in the window as Lex  Luthor settled into his chair at the large mahogany dining table  and picked up the napkin, placing it carefully on his lap. In  front of him was his breakfast - two eggs, sunny side up,  perfectly crisp bacon, fresh strawberries, flown into Metropolis  that very morning specifically for his breakfast, and a freshly  baked croissant. Beside his breakfast sat a cup of coffee - his  own special blend, made with beans which had just been ground  that morning.

Nigel entered the room and placed a couple dozen newspapers on  the table next to Luthor.

"Thank you, Nigel," Luthor responded before reaching over to  rifle through the pile until he found the one he was looking for  - The Daily Planet. Nigel had always been very careful to provide  his boss the papers in the order he read them. But things had  recently changed for the billionaire.

Prior to last week, he'd always started out his morning by  looking at The Wall Street Journal. But once he'd realized that  he was in love with Lois Lane, his reading patterns had changed.  Now the first paper he was reading every morning was the Daily  Planet. He was going to need to mention that to Nigel.

Luthor looked up when he heard someone else enter the room - a  curvaceous blonde who was slipping into her coat.

"Are you sure you won't join me for breakfast, my dear?" asked  Luthor, more out of politeness than any real desire to spend more  time with the woman - at least for the time being.

"I can't, pookie," said the woman in a very flirtatious, almost  baby voice as she came over and gave him a kiss. "I've got to go  home to feed my puppy. He'll be wondering where mommy's been all  night."

"Of course," responded Luthor with a smile.

"Besides, you've got all these nasty papers to read." She ran her  finger over the top of the pile in such a way as to leave the  average man panting for air. Even Luthor, who was hardly the  average man when it came to sexual experience, was not totally  immune.

"At least have one of these," Luthor said, holding up a  strawberry for her. She leaned over, revealing a generous amount  of cleavage. Taking the strawberry halfway into her mouth, she  took a bite. Her tongue instantly darted out to lap up a small  amount of the juice which had escaped her mouth. She closed her  eyes, chewed slowly and then moaned softly as she swallowed. A  small smile stole onto Luthor's face as he appreciated the show  which she was putting on for his pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him, obviously seeing  something in his expression that told her she'd received the  reaction she was wanting. Reaching out, she playfully tapped his  nose.

"Call me, pookie," she said before heading for the door.

He turned to watch as she made her way out of the room. He  smiled. He always appreciated the nights he spent with Mindy  Ramshaw. He wasn't fooled, of course, by her flirtatious act. She  had obviously learned quite well that her best asset was her  looks and she knew how to use those looks to her full advantage.  And the fact that she was... talented when the lights went out  only served to further her powers. Luthor briefly wondered if,  like Cleopatra of old, she'd realized her greatest advantage was  her ability in the bedroom and had thus learned her trade at the  feet of a professional. One night with the woman would make any  man believe that was a very real possibility.

What he was certain of, however, was that Mindy Ramshaw was  hungry for power. That meant his time with her was limited. After  all, once she realized that he had no intention of sharing his  power with her, she'd be off to seek out another sucker. He had  to take advantage of all her assets while he could.

It never even crossed his mind to wonder about the ethics in  bedding one woman while in love with another. Such concerns were  for those of the middle class. People of Luthor's station in life  were above such considerations.

As he popped the remainder of the fresh strawberry in his mouth,  he glanced down at the paper he'd withdrawn earlier. When he  noticed Lois' picture on the front, his earlier thoughts about  Mindy were wiped instantly from his mind. Under the picture was  the headline: 'Daily Planet Reporter Missing.'

"Nigel!" Luthor yelled.

"Sir?" asked Nigel, quickly appearing from nowhere.

"Get the car!"

* * * * * * * * *

Part 06

Clark collapsed into a chair in Henderson's office. It had been a  long night. He'd only slept for about forty-five minutes - and  that while sitting beside the door to the honeymoon suite.  Although he didn't need much sleep, he did need some. And  considering that the lack of sleep was also accompanied by the  highest levels of stress and grief he had ever experienced, he  felt as if he had been run over by a bus.

When he'd been unable to sleep, he'd wandered around the hotel,  showing Lois' picture to the night staff to find out if they had  seen or heard anything unusual. He'd only been able to find one  man, a bellboy, who could remember seeing Lois the previous  night. The man had apparently helped her check in and had then  seen her heading out for a jog sometime after one a.m. When asked  why he thought she was going jogging, the bellboy informed Clark  that she was in a sweat suit and a wool cap - the same outfit a  witness had said the person who had fallen into the river was  wearing. One thing the bellboy was clear about, however, was that  Lois had left the hotel alone and under her own power. Clark  supposed that was a good thing.

The information had momentarily infused Clark with new resolve -  and had sent him out to scour the riverbank once again, looking  for any signs that might indicate that Lois had climbed out of  the river. It had been a fool's errand, however. There was  nothing he hadn't seen earlier.

He had taken a few quick flybys of Lois' apartment during the  course of the night. But all he'd been able to see when he'd x- rayed the roof was Jimmy sound asleep on Lois' couch. And he'd  flown by his own place several times on the off chance that she'd  gone there. Every time, as he approached either place, he found  his heart was in his throat, only to plunge into his stomach when  there was no sign of Lois. Still, he couldn't seem to stop  himself from continuing to check.

"How you holding up?" asked Henderson, walking into his office  with two cups of coffee and handing one to Clark.

"I'm fine. I'm just wondering if you've found anything new about  Lois."

Henderson gestured to the mug, silently encouraging Clark to take  a sip. Clark complied. Henderson then pulled a small brown paper  bag from inside his desk and handed it to Clark.

"What's this?" asked Clark.

Henderson gestured for Clark to open the bag. Clark did and found  a donut inside. He looked up at Henderson in confusion.

"If you want answers from me, you'll eat the donut."

"You found Lois?" Clark asked, springing forward in his chair.

"No," Henderson responded immediately. "But if we're going to  find her, you're going to have to keep your strength up. You look  like death warmed over at the moment. So you eat. I'll talk."

Clark stared absently at Henderson for a moment before glancing  back at the small bag.

"Eat," said Henderson.

When Clark realized that Henderson was waiting for Clark to take  a bite before he was prepared to talk, he immediately complied.

"Well, we checked the fingerprints we found on Lane's keyboard  with those we found on the railing. And it's a match. I think we  can safely say that it is Lois we're looking for."

Clark closed his eyes. This information was nothing new. He  already knew it was Lois. But every single piece of confirmation  still felt like another knife being plunged into his stomach.

"So what did you find out last night?" Henderson asked.

After Clark filled him in, the two men were silent for a moment.  Finally, Clark let out a breath.

"It's just so frustrating. Everything we've found tells us the  victim is Lois. But that doesn't tell us where she is or who did  this to her. It doesn't get us any closer to finding her," said  Clark.

"Unless Lois suddenly walks through those doors, it's going to  take time."

"Don't talk to me about time, Bill. I'm not an idiot. I've worked  missing persons cases before and I know the first forty-eight  hours are critical. And if Lois was shot..." Clark's voice  suddenly trailed off, unwilling to complete his final thought.

"Tell me something, Clark."

Clark met the inspector's eyes.

"What's your relationship with Lois?"

"We're partners."

"And...?"

"And... friends."

"And...?"

"I don't know what you're getting at, Bill. And furthermore, I  don't know the relevance. We should be looking for Lois, not  talking about my relationship with her."

"Knowing about your relationship could be critical to finding  her."

"I don't see..."

"For example, would she contact you? Should we put someone at  your apartment in case she tries to call..."

His voice trailed off when a light came on in Clark's eyes. He  watched as Clark grabbed the phone, snatching it from the cradle,  and punched in a number. Clark listened for a moment and then  punched in a few more numbers and listened again. And as suddenly  as the light had lit up Clark's eyes, it went out.

"What?" asked Henderson when, without saying a word, Clark hung  up the phone.

"I just realized you might be right. Lois might have tried to  contact me. So I checked my answering machine."

"I take it there were no messages."

Clark gave a sad half-smile. "Just one from my folks."

"Sorry. So I take it you think she might have tried to contact  you. Does that mean that you two were involved?"

Clark let out a breath. "I told you, Lois and I were partners and  frien..." His thought was cut off by a jagged breath when he  suddenly realized what he'd done. It seemed Henderson noticed,  too, because he cut in immediately.

"Look, Clark, don't beat yourself up for referring to Lois in the  past tense. Under the circumstances..."

"She's not dead, Bill," Clark instantly responded. "It was just a  slip of the tongue. And I'm not beating myself up. We're going to  find her. She is..." He emphasized the word. "...a tough,  resourceful woman. If anyone can survive this, it's Lois. And if  it takes me the rest of my life, I'm going to find her," Clark  said, not entirely sure who he was trying to convince.

"Well, to that end, we do have a lead. I have some pictures I  want you to..."

"Henderson."

A man's voice saying Henderson's name drew the attention of both  him and Clark towards a man standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Luthor?" asked Henderson, rising to his feet. "What can I do  for you?"

"They tell me that you're the one looking into Lois Lane's  disappearance."

"I am," said Henderson.

Clark slowly rose to his feet, remaining in the background as his  mind began to work overtime. His first thought was to question  why Luthor was there. His second was to wonder how Luthor knew  Lois was missing. It took a moment for him to remember that Perry  was putting a story saying that Lois was missing on the front  page of the Daily Planet.

"So what are you doing to find her?" asked Luthor.

"This is a police investigation. I'm not at liberty to give out  that information. But trust me when I tell you we're doing  everything that can be done."

"If you can't give out that information, what's Kent doing here?"  Without waiting for a reply, Luthor continued. "So, Inspector,  can you tell me when you'll be bringing Lois home?"

"We haven't..."

"That's what I thought. You've got nothing! All the powers of the  Metropolis Police Department behind you and you've got nothing!  I'll have you know that I do not find that acceptable. And if you  don't find her within the next twenty-four hours, I promise you,  Inspector, I will have your badge."

"Now wait a minute..." began Henderson, but he was cut off by  Clark speaking for the first time since Luthor had entered the  room.

"I've been working with Henderson on this since yesterday  afternoon," said Clark. "And I can confirm that he's doing  everything that can be done."

"Well now, that's a comfort," Luthor responded sarcastically,  glaring at Clark. "And you've been a reporter... how long now,  Kent? Two months? Three months? So hearing from you that  everything that can be done is being done, well now, that's a  great comfort."

"And what business is it of yours, anyway?" asked Clark, moving  closer to Luthor.

"Lois and I are... involved."

"Involved," Clark scoffed, although he secretly couldn't help but  wonder exactly how involved Lois and Luthor were. "She sometimes  'tolerates' your company. Other than that, I'm her partner. I'm  her friend. I'm the one she comes to when she needs help."

"So did she come to you when she needed help this time?" asked  Luthor.

Clark felt as if he'd been slapped. "Did she come to you?" he  shot back, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Luthor turned towards Henderson slightly. "Mr. Kent here is under  the delusion that a woman as remarkable as Lois could see him as  something other than an errand boy."

The tension, the fear, the lack of sleep and the mere two bites  of donut and single sip of coffee, not to mention spending half  the night scouring the West River for Lois' body finally caught  up to Clark and he felt something snap inside him. "And by the  way, Luthor, how do we know that you aren't responsible for Lois'  disappearance?"

"What?" asked Luthor.

"What?" gasped Henderson, looking more stunned than Luthor by the  accusation.

"Yeah," said Clark, moving even closer to Luthor as the idea  began to take hold. "We have reason to believe that Lois was  looking into something to do with the upcoming Congressional  Inquiry into organized crime. Maybe she got a little too close.  Maybe she was about to blow your cover and expose you for the  criminal scumbag you are."

"You're delusional, Kent. I'm one of the most respected  businessmen on the eastern seaboard - not to mention the country,  maybe even the world. I won't be talked down to by a wannabe who  is as delusional as that kid who sometimes does work for Lois...  Joey or somebody... if you think Lois Lane would ever consider a  nobody like you..."

Luthor never managed to finish the insult because his voice was  cut off by Clark's fist plowing into his face. Luthor stumbled  back, lost his footing and fell to the floor.

"Hey!" yelled Henderson, jumping forward to grab Clark, holding  him back before he could do any further damage.

Police officers, seeing the kerfuffle, rushed to the doorway.

"I want him arrested and charged with assault," growled Luthor,  rising from his undignified position on the floor of Henderson's  office, one hand over his eye.

"Listen," said Henderson, using his 'let's all calm down' voice,  "I know tempers are running a little hot here, given the  circumstances, but..."

"That man assaulted me," said Luthor, refusing to be calmed by  Henderson's words. "I'm in a police station. How many officers  saw it? I want him arrested and charged with assault."

"Mr. Luthor..." Henderson began again.

"If he isn't arrested immediately, I'll file a complaint with  your Chief of Police."

Henderson let out a breath, turning to Clark. "You are under  arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that  right, anything you say can and will..." As he continued to read  Clark his rights, Luthor turned towards the door.

"Find Lois Lane!" Luthor demanded before disappearing through the  doors that led to the main part of the station.

* * * * * * * * *

Nigel, halfway up the stairs to the police station, stared at  Luthor coming towards him.

"What happened to your eye?" asked Nigel.

"It's not important. I have an idea about who might be behind  Lois' disappearance."

"Sir?"

"You know how we've been concerned about how amiable Church Jr.  has been with the congressmen in town for the inquiry."

"You've been worried that he might be trying to direct the  inquiry away from Intergang's activities by sending them in your  direction. Especially given how peculiar it is for Intergang to  come to Metropolis - given your control of the city. I've been  working on that, sir. But what..."

"Kent was at the station. He made a comment which leads me to  believe that Lois was covering the inquiry. And since I know I  didn't order her killed..."

"You're thinking Junior might have."

"Get me everything you can on Bill Church Jr.'s activities since  he arrived in Metropolis."

"Certainly, sir."

Luthor nodded slowly, looking off into the distance. "I want to  know if Lois stumbled onto something Church had going on."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

Luthor nodded before accompanying Nigel down the steps to the  police station. Luthor was just about to crawl into the limo when  a voice calling his name stopped him. He turned around to see  Henderson coming out of the station.

"Mr. Luthor," Henderson said as he arrived at the bottom of the  steps.

"What is it, Inspector?"

"I'm hoping to convince you to reconsider your request to have  Kent charged with assault."

"Kent is a danger to..."

"He's also doing everything in his power to find Lois,"  interrupted Henderson. "And so far, he has been very helpful in  this investigation."

"If the Metropolis Police Department can't handle..."

"What do you think Ms. Lane will think if she comes back to find  out that you had her partner arrested while he was trying to help  find her?" Henderson asked.

Luthor was silent as he thought about that. Henderson was right.  Although he'd prefer to keep Kent out of this investigation, he  didn't want to have to explain to Lois why he'd had Kent arrested  at a time like this. "Let him go," he said, not happy but not  seeing an alternative.

Without another word, Luthor turned and climbed into his limo.  Keeping Kent in jail wasn't the way to keep Kent out of this  investigation.

On the other hand, Luthor had no intention of letting Kent find  Lois. He needed to be the one to find her, to be her hero. He had  no doubt that he could. After all, his finances weren't the only  thing he had at his disposal to accomplish this task. His  connections in the underworld were unparalleled. If anyone could  find her, it was he.

But before doing that... He let out a slow breath as the car  pulled away from the curb. He still needed someone inside the  Daily Planet - just in case Kent got lucky. He suddenly had an  inspiration about how he might be able to achieve that.

"Where to, sir?" asked the chauffeur.

"The Daily Planet."

* * * * * * * * *

Grey Eyes climbed into the passenger's seat and waited until  Muscle Head pulled away from the curb before taking a look at the  story on the front page of the Daily Planet.

"So what's the story say, boss? Do they know what happened to  Lane?"

The older man was silent as he read the story, ignoring the  question. Once he'd finished the story about Lane's  disappearance, he continued looking through the Sunday edition.  He stopped on page thirty-three when he saw a story called 'Shots  Fired On Water Street' by Ralph Summers. He quickly read through  that story as well before allowing himself to smile.

"It seems they haven't made the connection between the events on  Water Street and Lane's disappearance," he finally said. "They  don't know whether she's alive or dead - or just off working on a  story."

"So things are lookin' good?"

Grey Eyes nodded. "And the body of the hooker?"

"Taken care of. And I did what you said and went back to the  suite and cleaned up the blood."

"Good."

The car pulled to a stop in front of a run down apartment  building.

"Remember that we have a meeting with our contact this  afternoon," said Grey Eyes. "Pick me up at three."

"Will do."

Muscle Head waited until the older man got out of the car and  headed towards the building before reaching into his shirt pocket  and removing Lois Lane's press pass. Smiling, he hung the press  pass from the rearview mirror before pulling away from the curb.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 07

Clark sank down onto the side of the hard cot and buried his head  in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd hit Luthor. What was wrong  with him anyway? Not that Luthor hadn't deserved it, but Clark  knew that he couldn't afford to lose control... ever. The only  thing to be grateful for was that he had not used his  superstrength or he could have hit Luthor clear into next  Thursday.

He had no idea what had caused him to hold back on the use of his  superpowers. He was only grateful that he had. He could be  sitting here right now contemplating a murder charge - not to  mention the thought of having to live with taking a human life -  even if the man in question was Luthor.

He was supposed to be looking for Lois and yet there he was, in a  small cell, contemplating how dangerous it was for someone with  his powers to have attacked another human being - even if that  human being was the most evil and manipulative person Clark had  ever known.

A noise caused him to look up. He rose to his feet when he saw  Henderson approaching his cell. He was silent as Henderson  unlocked the cell door.

"What's going on?" Clark asked.

"Luthor decided to drop the charges."

"I don't want any favors from Luthor," said Clark, sitting back  down on the edge of his cot and looking defiantly at Henderson.

Henderson let out a breath. "Would you just get out here?"

"I hit him. I deserve to be charged with assault. And the last  thing I want is to be indebted in any way to that man."

"So do I take it you don't like him?"

Clark's eyebrows shot up. He thought he'd already made his  feelings about Luthor fairly obvious.

"Dumb question," said Henderson. "Still... he might be an  arrogant prig, but he is concerned about Lois... just like you  are."

"The only person Luthor cares about is Luthor. If he wants to  find Lois, it's because he thinks there's something in it for  him."

Henderson leaned against the door. "You really don't like him, do  you? Care to tell me why?"

"Because Luthor is no better than a common criminal. The great  humanitarian act of his is just that - an act."

"And what were you talking about when you accused Luthor of being  responsible for Lois' disappearance? Or was that just hyperbole?  Maybe you just don't like the fact that he's dating Lois." When  Clark glared at Henderson, the inspector continued. "I've seen  the society pages. I've seen him and Lane together on those  pages. So is that what this feud is all about? A couple of  adolescents having a pissing contest to see which one can impress  the girl?"

When Clark just glared at him, Henderson continued. "I need to  know what's going on between you two, Clark. After all, if you're  not just blowing smoke and Luthor is behind Lois' disappearance,  this could be an angle worth pursuing. But if this is just some  vendetta between the two of you, then we could waste a lot of  time following a dead lead."

"So you're suggesting we investigate him?" asked Clark, rising to  his feet.

"No. I'm asking you if we need to."

Clark let out a breath, making his way to where Henderson was  standing. "To tell the truth, Bill, I really don't know. I've got  reason to believe that Luthor's dirty. But is he behind Lois'  disappearance? I don't have any reason to suspect he is. Not that  I think he'd hesitate for a moment to kill her if he thought she  was a threat to him."

Henderson nodded slowly as he considered that information. "Okay,  then let's just follow the evidence that we have at the moment  and see where it takes us. If it looks as if it's leading us  towards Luthor, then we'll follow it there. If not..." Henderson  began walking away, leaving the cell door open behind him,  obviously expecting Clark to follow. When he didn't, Henderson  turned back around and looked questioningly at Clark.

"I told you. I don't want any favors from Luthor."

Henderson let out a frustrated breath, walking back to the cage.  "Let me put it this way. Lois Lane is missing. Now you can sit  there and be all noble and make me waste a lot of time doing  paperwork or you can get out of here and we can start working our  butts off to find Lois. Which one is it going to be?"

Clark struggled for a moment with the dilemma before the defiance  left his expression and he meekly followed the inspector back to  his office.

* * * * * * * * *

As Henderson watched Clark get settled in a chair in his office,  he found himself marveling that the same technique he'd used to  get Luthor to drop the charges against Kent had worked to get  Kent to accept Luthor's charity. Unless he very much missed his  guess, both men, in very different ways, granted, were in love  with Lois Lane. He wondered if she had known that.

Kent and Luthor were such completely different men that, had he  not known Lois Lane, he would have found it hard to imagine the  woman who could bridge that gap. It was a shame that she was  probably dead. He could only hope he was not the one who would  eventually have to force either man to face that fact. But the  truth was that if Lane were alive, it was likely she would have  contacted someone by now - more than a day after the events by  the river and given the fact that her face would be staring back  at her from every newsstand in the city. Still, since Superman  had dragged the river and not found a body, operating procedure  dictated they treat this case as a missing persons/assault with a  weapon, possibly even an aggravated assault, but not as a  homicide - at least for the time being.

"Oh, something I should mention," said Henderson. He waited until  Clark looked at him before continuing. "I got a call from a  Mayson Drake at the D.A.'s office this morning. By the way she  spoke, I got the impression she knows you and Lane."

"I've met her. But she doesn't know Lois."

"Oh. Well, anyway, she said that she wants to be kept up to speed  on the investigation - something about owing both you and Lane  for your work on the pheromone case. She said you were both very  helpful and had it not been for you two, they never would have  stopped Miranda in time. Anyway, as a result, she wanted to make  sure that everything was done to try to find Lane and that  whoever had done this was caught and prosecuted to the full  extent of the law."

"That's very nice of her," said Clark distractedly. "You  mentioned something before the whole Luthor incident about having  pictures for me to... I assume to look at?" he asked instantly  changing gears, obviously anxious to redirect their energy to the  search for Lois.

"Right! You remember the kid from last night who saw a couple of  men looking into the river?"

Clark leaned forward in his chair. "Yeah?" There was definite  hope in his voice.

"Well, we had him look at hundreds of mug shots and got nowhere.  But..." Henderson reached into his desk and pulled out a couple  of drawings. "These are what he came up with when working with  our sketch artist. I was wondering if you recognized either of  these men."

Clark took the pictures and studied them carefully before shaking  his head.

"You're sure? Could either of them be someone you and Lois were  investigating? Or maybe had investigated?"

"I'm sorry, Bill. But... well, if I can take a copy of them, I'll  see if anyone at the newsroom recognizes them. If they were  investigated in the past by Lois, Perry might know who they are."

Henderson nodded his head.

"Anything else you can tell me?" asked Clark.

"Not much. We've still got a couple of irons in the fire, but...  Well, it isn't looking really good at the moment."

"For example?"

"For example, we're running the bullet we found through  ballistics to see if we can match it to any other shooting  incidents. But we don't expect the results back until later  today."

"Well, since Lois was taking pictures of the suite across from  the Lexor, is there any way you can get into that suite to  examine it?"

"Uh... well, we now know that the suite isn't being rented. So  I'm planning to talk to Bill Church Jr. since he owns the  building. Hopefully he will give us permission to search the  suite."

"Would you mind if I go with you?"

Henderson studied Clark for a long moment before responding.  "It's not standard procedure to involve civilians in our  investigations. I've been giving you more information than I  normally would because you're Lane's partner, but..."

"Please, Bill. I'm prepared not to print a word of this  investigation until you say it's okay, but I have to be  involved."

Henderson narrowed his eyes. "Can I be sure that you won't lose  your temper the way you did with Luthor?"

Clark let out a breath. "I promise. I'll be on my best behavior."

Henderson rose from behind his desk, picking up his jacket and  slipping it on. "So...? Are you coming?"

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor scowled as he read a copy of the police report about the  shooting on Water Street - at least a copy of those sections not  currently in Henderson's possession. Nigel had obtained it for  him while Luthor had been in talking to Henderson. He only looked  up when his limo came to a stop in front of the Daily Planet. He  took a moment to compose himself, ensuring that he emanated the  appropriate amount of worry and concern. He stopped when he  realized that this was one time when no act was necessary. He was  sincerely worried about Lois - terrified in fact. And that fear  had only increased by reading the police file.

He took a deep breath, realizing almost instantly that this fear  did have its disadvantages. Although it certainly allowed him to  approach this situation without acting, it also made it difficult  to think clearly enough to ensure that he benefitted the most  when Lois was eventually found. And she would be found! If it  cost him a fortune, she would be found. He would find her. And  then he'd find a way to ensure that she didn't take such risks in  the future - even if he had to destroy the Daily Planet to do it.

Still, before he concentrated on that, it was time for him to pay  an obligatory trip to console the 'grieving father' - Perry  White. Luthor was certain when Lois was found, White would be the  best person to tell her how worried Luthor had been. And he  needed to find a way to get a source in the Daily Planet to  report back on Kent's investigation.

He waited until the door to the limo was opened by his chauffeur  before exiting the vehicle and entering the Daily Planet.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark glanced around his environment as he and Henderson stood in  the entranceway to the luxurious penthouse suite on the top floor  of the apartment building next to the Lexor. He hadn't seen a  penthouse as opulent except perhaps on those few occasions when  he'd been inside Luthor's suite. All around were paintings and  other works of art which, even to Clark's untrained eyes,  appeared to be originals - and, without a doubt, very expensive.  He wondered if Church was a true connoisseur or simply liked to  be surrounded by the best that money could buy.

"Mr. Church," Henderson said when Bill Church Jr. entered the  room. "I'm Inspector Bill Henderson. And this is Clark Kent.  He's..."

"A reporter for the Daily Planet," Junior cut in, offering his  hand to both men. "I normally don't talk to the press. We have a  press spokesman for that."

As Clark shook Bill Church's hand, he found himself thinking that  the man reminded him of Luthor - very rich, very well-spoken,  very well-dressed, even very good looking. As a result, he  couldn't tell if the reason he distrusted the man was because he  was hiding something or if his dislike for Luthor was affecting  his judgement.

"Mr. Kent has a personal interest here," Henderson said,  explaining Clark's presence. "And he's assisting me in an  investigation."

"Uhh... an investigation?" said Church. He gestured Clark and  Henderson into a sitting area. "I'm always happy to do whatever I  can to help our boys in blue. So what's this investigation  about?"

"A missing person," Henderson responded.

Church gestured them to chairs, keeping his eye on Clark. "I  assume, since Mr. Kent is here, that it's about the disappearance  of Ms. Lane. I read about it in the Daily Planet this morning.  Although I'm not sure how I can be of assistance."

Clark met Church's eyes, trying to see if Church showed any  discomfort. After all, the picture Lois had taken from her hotel  room had Church in it. But Church's eyes gave nothing away and  his heart rate remained slow and steady.

"Could you tell us where you were last night?" asked Henderson.

Clark noted that Church's eyes immediately left his and met  Henderson's. To Clark, he looked genuinely shocked.

"Am I a suspect?" asked Church.

"Not at all. But I imagine you are aware of gunshots fired down  on the street last night. And knowing where you were could be  helpful in determining what you might know."

"Is the shooting incident connected to Ms. Lane's disappearance?"

"That's what we're trying to determine."

Clark silently studied his fingernails, wondering if his coming  had been the wisest decision. After all, so far they had kept the  shooting and Lois' disappearance separate in the public's mind.  His attendance with Henderson had managed to connect the two.

"I assure you, Inspector," Church said, "I know nothing about  either the shooting or Ms. Lane's disappearance."

"Not consciously, no. But you might have heard or seen something  that wouldn't mean anything to you - but might turn out to be a  crucial piece of evidence in finding Ms. Lane."

Church looked at both Clark and Henderson, seemingly trying to  decide if Henderson was on the level, before responding. "I was  at a function with some friends. Then I came back here."

"Where was this... function?"

"In one of the suites in this building."

"And which suite was this?"

"Suite 1110. I haven't rented it out - I've found that it's  useful having a place I can use for casual get-togethers."

"Did you at any point leave the building?"

"No."

"What about seeing someone you didn't know in the building?"

Church seemed to consider this question before shaking his head.  "I'm sorry, Inspector."

"So who were these friends you were meeting?"

"I recently rented a number of the suites in the building to the  congressmen and their aides who are in the city for the upcoming  Congressional Inquiry. I threw a little shindig, welcoming them  to the building. It was a low-key affair."

"And what time did it end?"

"I left at about midnight."

"And then?"

"I came back here and went to sleep."

As Henderson jotted down some comments in his notebook, Clark  found himself fighting back the urge to jump in. Having worked  with Lois for the last few months, Clark wasn't used to having a  partner ask such lowball questions. He wanted Henderson to put  some pressure on Church. Still, working with Lois had taught him  something else - and that was to keep his mouth shut and trust  his partner.

"So who else was at this party?"

"A few congressmen and others. And, of course, some beautiful  women. But then, what's a party without beautiful women?"

"Beautiful women?" asked Henderson, looking up from his notes.

"Powerful men always attract beautiful women, Inspector."

Clark's eyebrows went up. Nothing Church had said so far was an  obvious lie. But from the pictures Lois had taken, he suspected  those particular women were... professionals. Still, he held his  peace.

"Of course," Henderson responded. "So what were the congressmen's  names?"

"Why do you need to know that?" asked Church suspiciously.

Henderson looked up from his notebook. "Oh, I'm just trying to be  as thorough as possible. If you don't ask the question and  something comes up later, the chief yells." He shrugged. "So what  were their names?"

Church narrowed his eyes as if not entirely convinced by  Henderson's casual attitude. Still, he proceeded to provide  Henderson with the names of a number of congressmen and  congressional aides - people whose presence was confirmed by the  photos Lois had taken. Once again, Clark was impressed by what  appeared to be Church's honesty.

"Okay, well, thanks for your time, Mr. Church," Henderson said,  rising to his feet.

Clark felt shocked. He still had a lot of questions. So why was  Henderson apparently throwing in the towel? Didn't he realize  what was at stake? Still, he bit his tongue as Church accompanied  them back to the door - reminding himself that Henderson was a  seasoned investigator and must have his reasons for cutting the  interview short.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help, Inspector," said Church as  they arrived at the door to the suite. "Please let me know if  there is anything else I can do to help. I've read and enjoyed  Ms. Lane's stories for years. It would be a tragedy if anything  happened to her."

Henderson gave a nod, shaking Church's hand once again before  turning towards the door. Then, just as suddenly, he turned back  around. "Oh, there is one more thing that you might be able to  help with."

"Name it," said Church.

"We'd like to take a look around Suite 1110. We have reason to  believe there might be some evidence there that will help us  locate Ms. Lane."

Clark had to stifle a grin as Church visibly flinched. Henderson  was good. Ask the necessary questions gently, don't raise  Church's suspicions and put him so at ease that he would  volunteer to do whatever else was necessary to assist in the  investigation; then get to the real reason they had come to see  Church.

"I'm afraid that would be... awkward," said Church, schooling his  features back into order. But the damage had been done. Church  was hiding something. Clark was certain Henderson was aware of it  as well.

"I don't understand," said Henderson, pressing the issue. "You  just told me that the suite in question is currently empty. And  if it might help us find Ms. Lane..."

"As I said, there were a lot of very powerful men at our affair  last night. And they all like to keep what they do with their  down time private. I have to deal with these men on a regular  basis. As a result, I'd feel uncomfortable giving you permission  to search the room. Would you mind terribly getting a search  warrant? It would certainly make my position so much easier."

Henderson gave him a tight grin before turning and making his way  to the door.

"Well, thanks for your time, Mr. Church," said Henderson.

Clark looked at Henderson. His tone of voice made it clear that  he wasn't happy with this latest development. However, he didn't  say anything until both he and Henderson were safely in the  elevator on the way back to the street.

"What's wrong, Bill?"

"He's hiding something."

"Yeah, I know. But does it have anything to do with Lois?"

"I have no idea. But there is something he doesn't want us to  know - and I'd swear it has something to do with Suite 1110."

"So we just get a search warrant - like he suggested."

Henderson turned and looked at Clark. "We don't have enough to  get a warrant - and I'd venture a guess that Church knows it. I  had hoped to corner him into giving us consent to conduct a  search. And for a moment there, I really thought we had him."

Clark's heart slammed into his stomach. "So what do we do now?"

Henderson took a moment to respond. "I'm going to speak to the  congressmen in those pictures Lane took. Why don't you take those  sketches back to the Planet? See if anyone there recognizes  them."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 08

Superman looked both ways, making sure no one was looking, before  floating up to the floor Suite 1110 was on. The police might not  be able to get a warrant to search the room, but that didn't  prevent him from being able to just take a casual look inside. If  there was evidence that would lead to Lois, he had to know.

Taking a deep breath, hoping for the best - like maybe a note  saying where Lois was - he x-rayed through the wall. His heart  was in his throat when he spotted the remnants of a stain on a  couch, a stain that might be blood. He took a closer look,  noticing that the blood - if that was what it was - had also  soaked into the carpet near the couch. To the casual observer,  the stain wouldn't be all that obvious. But Clark was hardly the  typical observer - nor were police forensics experts. His  breathing deepened. Could that be Lois' blood? Maybe. But there  was no way to know without having the police do forensics tests.  And since the police couldn't get into the room...

It seemed obvious to Clark that someone had already tried to  clean up the mess, but from what Clark knew about blood, it was  nearly impossible to remove all blood from material - at least to  the extent necessary to keep the police from being able to find  it with the appropriate equipment.

He x-rayed the wall, seeing a bullet lodged into the doorframe to  the washroom. He let out a breath of frustration. Once again he  needed police forensics to know if the bullet buried there was a  match to the bullet they had found in the post on Water Street.

There had to be a way to get the police in there, if only he  could think of it. The only advantage he had over... whoever had  made the mess in that room was that it would be very difficult,  if not impossible, for him or her to get rid of all the evidence.  Still, they had to get a search warrant as soon as possible. But  how? Frustrated, he flew off towards the Daily Planet.

* * * * * * * * *

Church clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he  considered what he'd learned during the course of Henderson and  Kent's visit. It might be advisable for him to take a look at  Suite 1110. After all, if one of the congressmen stumbled into  some trouble and there was some evidence of it in the suite, he  was certain they would be very, very grateful if he made it  disappear before the cops found a way to search the suite. From  the sound of things, he suspected they didn't have the evidence  they needed to get a search warrant. But that didn't mean they  wouldn't have such information in the future. It would be best if  he attended to this immediately.

* * * * * * * * *

The moment the elevator doors slid open, Clark realized things at  the Daily Planet were anything but normal. He stepped off the  elevator and stood at the railing at the top of the bullpen.  People he'd never seen before were everywhere. Phones ringing.  People talking. Never had the newsroom been as crowded or as  noisy - not even when it had been used as a back-drop for a photo  shoot the previous week.

"Kent!"

Perry's familiar bellow directed Clark's attention to his boss.  Perry made a gesturing motion with his hand, snapping Clark out  of his stupor and sending him in the direction of Perry's office.

"What's going on, chief?" Clark asked as he followed Perry into  the office.

Perry closed the door, causing the din of the newsroom to fade  into the background. "This is what we get for putting a story in  the Planet telling Metropolis that Superman would be grateful for  information regarding Lois' disappearance."

Clark turned and made his way over to the window looking into the  normally only moderately busy newsroom. "Where did all the phones  and extra people come from?" he asked. After all, the number of  phones being used told him that extra lines had somehow been  hooked up in the newsroom.

"Lex Luthor came by earlier... Now, Clark, I know how you feel  about him. But as the owner of LexTel, he was very helpful. If it  hadn't been for Luthor's help, we'd never have been able to get  the extra lines or extra telephones in such a short amount of  time. He was the moving force in all this - even supplied a  number of the people to help answer phones." Perry came over and  stood beside Clark as the two watched the activity. "I really  think he's worried about Lois."

"Are you sure he's not the one behind Lois' disappearance?"

Perry turned and looked at Clark. "Did you find something?"

Clark let out a breath, not meeting Perry's eyes. "A lot of dead  ends." There was a long moment of silence. "Oh, Henderson asked  that I have you take a look at these - perhaps even show them to  others." Clark reached into his inside suit pocket and withdrew  an envelope. Opening it, he handed the two drawings to Perry. "Do  you recognize either of these men?"

Perry studied the pictures closely before shaking his head. "Who  are they?"

"Those are sketches of the two men our witness saw looking into  the West River after the shooting. You're sure you don't  recognize them? Maybe they were subjects of some investigation by  Lois prior to my arrival at the Planet?"

Again Perry shook his head. "I'll ask around, though. Someone  might know who they are."

Clark nodded and looked back at the activity in the newsroom.  "Have there been any promising tips?"

Perry shook his head. "I have Jimmy, Eduardo and Cat all working  on the tips. Anything that looks remotely promising, they're  bringing to me. But so far..." Perry shook his head.

"What Henderson really needs is evidence that something illegal  went down in Suite 1110. Unfortunately..."

Perry tilted his head to the side and walked over to his desk.  "Does he need evidence that the illegal activity is connected to  whatever happened to Lois? Or any illegal activity?"

Realizing Perry was getting at something, Clark turned towards  him, waiting for him to continue. He watched as Perry took an  envelope from his desk. Walking over, he saw Perry remove the  pictures Lois had taken the night of her disappearance.

"I would say those are... working girls," Perry said, pointing to  the young women. "I think prostitution is still illegal in this  great city of ours."

"Church said they were just women who are attracted to powerful  men."

"And you believed him?"

"No, but..."

"It's too bad one of them wasn't prepared to come forward."

Clark's head snapped up.

"What?" asked Perry.

"Would you excuse me, chief. I just might have an idea." Without  waiting for Perry to respond, Clark opened the door and headed  towards the stairs at something approaching a jog.

* * * * * * * *

Bill Church Jr. knocked on the door to Congressman Harrington's  suite. It only took a moment for the man himself to appear.  Church immediately noted that Harrington, still in his robe,  looked as if he had been drinking heavily for quite some time.  His eyes were glassy, his stance unsteady and he smelled like a  brewery.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Church began, "but there is something  sensitive I need to discuss with you. May I come in?"

Harrington gestured Church inside, closing the door behind him.

"I had a visit from the police earlier," Church began. "They were  wanting to search Suite 1110."

Harrington looked positively white as he collapsed into a chair.

"Don't worry. I didn't give permission. But it's only a matter of  time before they get a search warrant. So I took the liberty of  checking out the suite. And I noticed... well, at the risk of  being too direct, I found a large blood stain on both the carpet  and one of the couches."

Harrington raised his glass to his lips and drained the contents.

"It was apparent that someone tried to clean it up. But that much  blood..." Church shook his head. "Anyway, I found out that you  were the last person to leave the suite," Church continued,  driving home to the congressman the precarious position he was  currently in. "But I think I know a way out of this."

Harrington looked up at Church, hope in his eyes for the first  time.

"Do you want to know my plan?" asked Church, knowing what  Harrington's response would be. He smiled. Harrington would be  indebted to him after this. And nothing could be better for  Intergang than having the congressman in charge of the  Congressional Inquiry into organized crime indebted to a Church.

Once he'd finished giving Harrington the details of his plan, he  advised the man to clean himself up. After all, the police would  likely want to talk to him at some point - and right now, he was  looking guilty as hell. Harrington had informed him that the  police had already stopped by. However, when the congressman had  looked through the peephole to see the police standing outside,  he'd simply pretended not to be home. Still, he had recognized  that he had to pull himself together and promised Church that he  would do so.

* * * * * * * * *

Superman majestically floated onto the large balcony outside the  most exclusive 'house of ill-repute' in all of Metropolis. His  cape billowed behind him, giving him the appearance of a god as  his feet landed gently on the balcony. He was satisfied he'd had  the desired effect when the two women - one older and one younger  - inside the elegant suite stared at him in awe. Normally, Clark  avoided such displays. But he suspected Madam Benoit, with her  flamboyant style, would appreciate the show. And right now he  needed every advantage he had.

This particular 'house of ill-repute' was known for the quality  of its girls - well-educated young women from good homes who had  learned early that they could make more money by selling their  bodies than by working their minds.

Their madam was equally cultured and educated. She was in her  late fifties but carried herself with such an air of confidence  that she was still regarded as one of the most desirable women in  her profession. Of course, these days she was very picky about  her own clientele. Her main activities revolved around managing  the 'affairs' of her girls.

What made Madam Benoit the most exclusive madam in Metropolis was  not only the quality of her girls, but her extraordinary  discretion. Never did she give away her clients - not to anyone  for any reason. About ten years previously, she'd gone so far as  to do a short stint in jail rather than give up her client list.  It had solidified her reputation especially among men to whom  discretion was important - like politicians. But Superman wasn't  exactly anyone. He had an advantage - and if any time was the  time to collect, it was now.

"Superman," Madam Benoit said, breezily sweeping open the balcony  doors to allow Superman to enter. "So good to see you again. Have  you finally decided to take me up on my offer?" She swept up  beside the superhero, slipping her arm through his as she led him  into the grand sitting room. Although her English and diction  were perfect, she retained just the slightest hint of the French  accent of her youth, giving her a slightly exotic air.

Clark smiled, ignoring the startled look of the young woman  watching the two of them. Right now he had other things on his  mind beside his reputation. He was only thankful Madam Benoit  remembered her promise. It had been given shortly after Superman  had first arrived on the scene. He had stopped an overly-brutal  customer from abusing one of Madam Benoit's favorite girls. He'd  flown her back to this luxurious apartment only to be embarrassed  so badly his face had nearly matched the color of his cape when  she'd promised him any girl of his choosing whenever he wanted  her - free of charge. He'd been even more embarrassed when, as a  result of his reaction, she had guessed at his lack of...  experience. Madam Benoit was not someone who missed much. She  read people as well as anyone Clark had ever known. Still, once  she'd realized he couldn't be tempted by the promise of sexual  favors, she'd gone on to tell him that if he ever needed anything  from her, he need only to ask.

It had occurred to him to report her business activities to the  police. But after a little research, he'd discovered that,  although her activities were not exactly... legal, the police and  everyone else in power in Metropolis left her alone. Clark  considered that maybe he should write a story - exposing her and  forcing the police to act. But when he'd thought about it, he'd  realized there were so many other crimes, crimes where there were  actual victims, that needed his investigative or superheroish  skills. Besides, unlike others in her profession, Madam Benoit  sincerely cared about her girls - taking great care in screening  their customers, providing a wonderful health plan, ensuring her  girls were healthy and safe. Did he really want to bring down  this particular operation only to have a half a dozen similar  businesses scrambling to take its place - businesses which might  not take as much care to protect their girls? As a result, he'd  never followed up beyond the initial stages of an investigation.  But now he was glad he hadn't. If anyone could help him right  now, it was the woman holding his arm.

"Actually," said Superman, "I was hoping we could talk alone."

"Certainly. Certainly," Madam Benoit rushed to say, shooing the  young woman from the room as if she were a pesky fly.

Clark scuffed at the carpet uncomfortably when he noticed the  disappointed expression on the face of the very curvaceous  redhead as she left the room.

"Alas, I think you broke her heart," said the older woman.

Clark blushed.

"Ahh... There he is. My charmingly innocent hero."

The color in Clark's cheeks deepened.

"So what can I do for the great man?" Madam Benoit asked,  releasing Clark's arm to take a seat on an elegant sofa. She  patted the spot beside her.

"I need your help," he said, taking the offered seat.

"My help?" She tilted her head to the side and studied him. "Is  it possible that you really are wanting to give one of my girls  the thrill of her life?" When he shifted uncomfortably, she  laughed. It was a sound like birds singing. "No, I don't suppose  that's it. My girls will be so disappointed."

When Clark cleared his throat, she reached out and touched his  hand, directing his attention back to her. "I hope you don't take  offence to my teasing," she said. "It's only that I find it so  charming that one with so much power can remain so innocent. Do  you have any idea how different that makes you from other men?"

Clark searched her eyes, wondering if she was serious. The eyes  that stared back at him held no ridicule. In fact, she looked  genuinely impressed. It wasn't hard to imagine what men found so  desirable about this woman. Whether her comment was sincere or  not, Clark felt unexpectedly flattered that one in her profession  could actually seem impressed by his lack of experience.

"Actually, I'm here for some information."

"Information?" Her voice instantly became guarded.

"I know your reputation. I know information is not something you  normally give out, but... well, a friend of mine is missing."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "Is it  Mademoiselle Lane?"

Clark tried to hide his shocked reaction, but obviously it was  too little, too late.

"Ahh... well, that explains a lot."

Clark wasn't entirely sure what it explained, but he wasn't about  to ask. Besides, she was continuing to speak.

"I read the article in the Daily Planet this morning. But I  assure you, I know nothing about Mademoiselle Lane."

"I know that. And I'm not saying you do, but... well, Lo... Ms.  Lane was investigating a story which involved a number of  congressmen and... well, we have reason to believe that some of  your girls, or someone's girls, might have been around at some  point on the evening she disappeared."

"And where was the soiree?"

"Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street. I really need to talk to those  women. If one of them saw something or knows something that could  help me find Ms. Lane... Or even if they didn't, they might be  able to help us get a search warrant into a place where there  might be some evidence. Please, could you bend your rules just  this once? I'm not interested in causing anyone any trouble. I  just have to find her."

"You're in love with her." It was not a question.

"Lois and I are just friends," Clark said, instantly breaking eye  contact.

She reached up, placing her fingers under his chin and tilting  his head up until he met her eyes. "You're in love with her," she  repeated with complete conviction. "Don't worry. Your secret is  safe with me."

She was silent for a moment more and although Clark attempted to  read her eyes, he could not tell whether she was about to concede  to his request or not. But if he could get one of the girls to  admit to Henderson that she had been paid for sexual favors in  Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street, they would have evidence of a  crime and would probably be able to get a search warrant -  allowing the police to get a forensics team in there to do the  work that Superman couldn't.

"I'll see what I can do," she finally said, rising to her feet.

"Thank you," Clark responded, grateful that his request hadn't  been rejected out of hand.

"How should I contact you when I have what you need?"

There was no doubt in her voice that she would get the  information he needed, provoking a quick and relieved smile from  Clark.

"You can call the Daily Planet. Ask for Clark Kent. He's helping  me search for Lois. I assure you he can be trusted. You don't  need to leave your name if you don't want to. I'll know where the  information came from."

"Very well." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek  before reaching up to brush away the light touch of lipstick  she'd left behind. "Mademoiselle Lane is a very lucky woman."

"I told you, we're just..."

"...friends," Madam Benoit completed. "I know."

As Superman again flew away from Madam Benoit's suite, he found  himself marveling over the fact that although he opposed  everything the older woman stood for, he liked the woman herself.  If the women in those pictures with the congressmen were indeed  high-priced call girls, Madam Benoit would find out. Of that he  was sure - unless, of course, she already knew.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 09

Luthor's bulletproof limo came to a stop in a dark alley in  Suicide Slum. Nigel's message had been somewhat cryptic, which  Luthor considered unusual for his senior aid. He would only say  he'd found two individuals who could answer his questions about  the disappearance of Lois, but that Luthor had to hear what they  knew directly from them.

He waited in silence as Nigel exited the limo and approached two  men. One was short and stocky with a full head of greying hair.  The other was younger, a punk in a black leather jacket. Luthor  waited while Nigel spoke briefly to them before coming to open  the car door.

Luthor slid out slowly, keeping his eyes on these potential  sources of information.

"I can't believe we're actually getting to meet with you in  person," gushed the older of the two, obviously impressed that he  was talking to Luthor in person. "I'm Barry Schaefer and this is  Mark Donahue."

Luthor gave a polite nod from the shadow which fell across both  him and the roof of the car. "I understand you have some  information for me."

"Yes. As we told him, we took care of your biggest problem. The  chairman of the Congressional Inquiry - Harrington himself. He's  not gonna give you any problems."

Luthor glanced over at Nigel. This was one of the projects Luthor  currently had Nigel working on - finding a way to control  Harrington if the investigation got too close to Luthor's empire.  But what did that have to do with... "And how exactly did you  manage to do that?" Luthor asked.

"We went to the apartment building on Water Street - you know,  the one where all the bigwigs are staying and found out that  Church was throwing them a little 'welcome to the neighborhood'  party. Anyway, we rented a room in the Lexor and watched, waiting  until it was over. Harrington remained after the others left,  with his high-priced hooker. So we paid them a little visit. We  killed the hooker and buried her body, making sure not to disturb  Harrington's DNA. If her body is found, he'll be the number one  suspect. There's no way he's going to let that get out. If he  gives you any problems, just mention Suite 1110 and he should  come around."

Luthor glanced over at Nigel, his heart suddenly in his throat.  Was Nigel trying to tell him that the woman who they had thought  of as a high-priced hooker was actually Lois? It was possible.  After all, Lois had been known to go undercover as a lot of  different things over the years. If Luthor recalled correctly, at  one point she'd even disguised herself as a man in order to  investigate a car theft ring.

"Tell Mr. Luthor how you dealt with the... unexpected  complication that came up later that night." Nigel's voice cut  through Luthor's thoughts.

"Oh, right. Well, it wasn't a big deal. Some reporter started  snooping around, but we took care of her."

Luthor kept his voice even as he asked his next question. "How  did you take care of her?"

"We killed her. She fell into the river before we could stop her.  But from the sound of things, the police still haven't found her  body. I wouldn't be surprised if they never do. And even if they  do, they aren't likely to be able to link it back to us. I  wouldn't worry about her. She ain't gonna give anyone problems  anymore."

"And her name?" asked Luthor. Only years of experience allowed  him to keep a tight reign on the fury rising in his chest. He no  longer wondered why Nigel had been so cryptic in his message  about the information these men had for him. After all, they  worked for him - and they had killed Lois. Nigel wasn't about to  tell him that. Instead, he'd made sure the two saps who had done  the deed confessed to Luthor in person - to ensure that Luthor  had someone upon which to vent his anger other than Nigel  himself.

"Lois Lane. Worked for the Daily Planet."

"Are you certain she's dead? Is there any way she could have  survived?"

"She's dead as a doornail. She was shot twice - once in the chest  - before she fell into the water. And we saw her go under and  never come up."

"And you're sure it was Lois Lane?"

The younger man made his way over to the old car parked nearby.  He returned momentarily, holding out a card with a string around  it.

Luthor looked at the card without touching it. Lois' press pass.  In Luthor's mind, that was the final bit of confirmation he  needed. He nodded slowly and then, with a sudden movement,  reached under his jacket, withdrew a pistol and, with two well- placed shots, managed to kill both men before either of them had  a chance to react. Then, without saying a word, he turned and  climbed back into his limo.

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor stood in silence, looking out over the darkened city of  Metropolis from his penthouse balcony. Dead. Lois Lane was dead.  In his mind, he had problems reconciling the vibrant, exciting  and sometimes pigheaded woman with a lifeless corpse. The thrill  of the hunt. The excitement he'd felt at the thought of taming  that wild creature now left him feeling cold, hollow inside.

He had loved Lois Lane. Oh, he had always known, of course, that  she was not the right woman for him. She had too many ethics. On  the other hand, he suspected that was part of the appeal. He'd  looked forward to years of slowly carving away at those ethics.  The challenge had been as irresistible as the woman herself. Now  all he felt was... numb.

It had been two men, working on his behalf, who had killed Lois  Lane. He had so hoped that if she were dead, Church was  responsible. A full out war with Intergang would have been a good  way to deal with his grief. Much like Helen of Troy, whose face  had launched a thousand ships, his Lois would have gone out with  a bang. It would have been a fitting ending for the woman he  loved. Instead, she'd gone out with a whimper, as yet another  victim to his empire.

He felt an unexpected twinge of... something. Was it guilt? No!  That was ridiculous. Lex Luthor did not feel guilty - ever!

He straightened his shoulders when he suddenly had an idea about  how to deal with his feelings. Perhaps he could find some way to  blame this entire incident on Church. The blood bath that would  surely ensue would be a fitting tribute to the woman he had  loved.

Kent. His mind shifted. Kent knew nothing of this. Luthor found  that thought strangely appealing. Kent still thought Lois was  alive. Well, Luthor had no intention of dispelling Kent's  delusion. Kent could search for Lois for the rest of his life for  all Luthor cared. He'd find out the truth eventually, of course.  There was no way to prevent that.

On the other hand, there was the chance, however small, that  Kent's search for Lois could lead to Luthor himself - given what  Luthor now knew. That meant the source he'd planted among all the  temp workers at the Daily Planet would still be useful. It was  absolutely critical he be kept advised of Kent's every move. Kent  might be a two-bit reporter, but he had learned from the best.  Besides, in this case, Kent was motivated. And motivation was  dangerous - even from a gnat like Kent.

* * * * * * * * *

It was late by the time Clark returned to the Daily Planet. He'd  been unable to prevent himself from once again searching the  banks of the West River, looking for something, anything which  would lead him to Lois. Maybe she'd torn off a button when she'd  climbed out of the river. Maybe he'd find the tell-tail evidence  of blood which would lead him to her. Not that his search had  yielded anything helpful. In fact, Clark was starting to feel as  if searching the river bank was becoming something of an  obsession - something he did when he didn't know what else to do.

He leaned his head against the back of the elevator as he waited  for the doors to slide open. He couldn't go back to his apartment  until he'd at least checked in with Perry - found out if there  was any new information. On the other hand, he doubted Perry  would still be in the newsroom. After all, it was almost  midnight. Of course, the simple act of x-raying the building  before coming in would have told him if Perry was inside. But  Clark hadn't done that. He'd been slightly afraid that Perry  wouldn't be there and that he'd be left with no option but to  return to his lonely apartment where there would be nothing to do  but to think about Lois, what she might be going through, what he  would do if she was...

The 'ding' of the elevator saved him from completing his thought.  He let out a breath of relief when he saw Perry through the semi- dark newsroom, sitting at his desk, focused on something in front  of him. He could hardly believe what a welcome sight it was  seeing Perry. He quickly headed in the direction of the editor's  office.

* * * * * * * * *

"Hi."

Perry jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected sound of  Clark's voice. He looked up to see Clark leaning against the  doorframe. This was the moment he had been dreading. How did he  tell this young man, who had so obviously fallen in love with  Lois, had followed her around like a lost puppy since he'd come  to work at the Daily Planet, about Henderson's phone call?

"Any news?" asked Clark.

Perry nodded, gesturing Clark to a seat. Clark suddenly looked  unsteady on his feet, as if something in Perry's expression had  him expecting the worst. Perry was relieved when Clark made his  way to a chair under his own steam.

"They found our suspects," Perry began, holding up the sketches  Clark had obtained from Henderson.

"That's great news!" Clark exclaimed. Clark's hopeful expression  was suddenly much more guarded, as if he abruptly realized there  was more to come. "What?" Clark asked.

"Well, there are a number of things. First, they are certain that  these men were involved in... Lois' shooting."

"Did they confess?"

"No. But the police found traces of Lois' blood in the car of one  of the men. And they found a gun. They ran ballistics and matched  it to the bullet found near the blood on Water Street. They also  found Lois' press pass."

"So what did the men say when they were questioned? Or are they  still being questioned?" Clark rose to his feet. "Maybe the  police could use some help questioning..."

"There's more, Clark," Perry said, cutting Clark off. "Sit down,"  he continued when Clark remained standing, as if on the verge of  fleeing.

Reluctantly, Clark again took his seat.

"They're dead," Perry said.

"What?" asked Clark. "Who's dead?"

"The men who shot Lois."

"But... What? How?"

"Gunshots. One each. Both fired with precision accuracy." Perry  let out a breath. "Given everything, the police have upgraded the  shooting on Water Street to a homicide." He gave that a moment to  sink in before continuing. "And because they believe that the  perpetrators are dead, they are closing the case. Henderson said  to tell you that he's sorry."

"What?" Clark asked, jumping to his feet. "But they might have  been holding Lois against her will. They might..."

"They searched the apartments of both men and found nothing. No  trace of Lois. Clark, since her body fell into the river, you  have to accept that they might never find her."

"No! That can't... Lois can't..." His voice was cut off by an  involuntary sob that rose in the back of his throat. Perry was  there in an instant, desperate to find a way to comfort the young  man.

"No! No!" objected Clark, pushing Perry away from him, rejecting  the help Perry wanted to give. "They can't be right. It's not  true. I'd know, Perry. I'd know if Lois were dead."

"Son..."

"If these two scumbag are dead, then someone did it. Do they know  who? Maybe they have Lois? Maybe... What about the tips that have  been coming in all day? Have they all been followed up on? Maybe  one of them will tell us... something. Perry, we can't just give  up. There's so much more we still don't know."

"No one is giving up, Clark. The police will continue searching  for the person or persons responsible for killing Lois'  murderers. And we have the temp workers coming in again tomorrow.  I promise, we will follow up on every one of the tips that come  in, but you have to prepare yourself for the possibility that..."

Clark shook his head violently.

"... she's dead," Perry finished, his voice not much more than a  strained whisper.

"I've got to go, Perry," Clark finally said, heading towards the  stairway, ignoring Perry calling after him.

Perry watched as Clark pushed open the door to the stairs and  disappeared through them at nothing short of a run. Sighing,  Perry sank back down behind his desk, his eyes landing on the  phone. After a moment, he reached over to pick it up. Punching in  a familiar number, he waited until it was answered before  speaking.

"Hi, Alice. Did I wake you?" He covered his eyes with his hand  and listened to the reassuring voice on the other end of the line  as tears fell unheeded, leaving water stains on the document  lying on his desk. Lois Lane's obituary. He'd done several drafts  now and was only grateful that due to the lateness of the hour,  he wouldn't have to finish it before tomorrow afternoon. Never  had an article been harder to write. "Why am I calling? I just  needed to hear your voice, honey."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark stood on the rooftop of the Daily Planet, staring off into  the distance. Dead. Lois was dead. Henderson believed it. Perry  obviously believed it. Everyone believed it. And in spite of his  bravado to Perry, Clark himself had to admit that he believed it.  All the evidence pointed in that direction. Still, how could she  be dead? She'd always been the epitome of what it meant to be  alive. So animated. So driven. So full of energy. So... so alive.

His first tear was followed by a second and a third. His throat  tightened, making it painful to swallow. He felt so helpless,  impotent even, as if someone had drained the life force from his  body. The world around him lost its color, becoming a land of  shadows. Nothing was real. Nothing mattered. He wanted to lash  out, to fight back - but there was nothing to fight. He looked at  the heavens.

"Give her back to me!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

When there was no answer, he dropped his head so that his chin  was practically resting on his chest. How could whatever forces  controlled the universe be silent at a time like this? How could  they be indifferent to his plight?

He silently cursed the universe. He cursed the forces of nature  that had directed his small spacecraft through the enormity of  space to land on this small, blue planet. Better to have died in  the darkness of space than to live only to know this type of  pain. He cursed his powers - powers which had betrayed him when  he'd needed them most. What good were these powers if he were  unable to save the one he'd loved most in the world? What was the  point of any of it?

A shaky breath escaped his lips. How was he to go on if she were  dead? How would he be able to get up in the morning and do the  million little things that had to be done every day knowing what  he had lost? Without her, it would mean nothing. A future which  had been alive with possibilities, now looked more like a  nightmare.

Suddenly all the strength left Clark's legs and he collapsed onto  his knees. Burying his head in his hands, he finally allowed  himself to weep.

* * * * * * * * * MONDAY * * * * * * * * *

Martha knew something devastating had happened the moment she saw  Clark making his way up the back path to the old farm house. The  stoop in his shoulders, the expression on his face, even the lack  of energy in his step reminded her of the way Jonathan had looked  during the first few weeks after the doctor had informed them  that they were unable to have children. And so she prepared  herself for the worst.

"Jonathan, your son's here," she yelled over her shoulder, drying  her hands on her apron as she made her way over to the back door,  arriving just as Clark pushed it open.

She immediately reached out, taking Clark in her arms. Although  she knew the news was bad, she was shocked when his head dropped  to her shoulder and he held on to her as if she were his only  link to life. She closed her eyes briefly when she felt him  tremble in her arms. At that moment, Jonathan entered the room.  She glanced over at him. Seeing the expression on his face, she  knew that he realized by the way Clark was currently clinging to  her that something dreadful had happened. She gave him a look,  telling him that she didn't know the nature of the problem  either.

"Good to see you, son," said Jonathan when Clark still refused to  release his mother.

Jonathan's words seemed to have the desired effect and Clark  finally stepped out of his mother's embrace. Martha felt an ever  deepening sense of fear when her eyes met Clark's. Never had she  seen her boy looking so lost, so haunted, in such incredible  agony.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asked, unable to stand not knowing for  a moment more.

"It's Lois," Clark said, his voice trembling. "She's dead."

Martha's heart came to a complete standstill. Lois was dead? It  couldn't be. She was the only woman in nearly thirty years who  had managed to penetrate Clark's heart. Until she came along,  Martha had worried that her son would always be alone. If she  were dead... She pulled in a jagged breath. This was not  something that was going to be fixed by a piece of warm apple pie  with ice cream melting on top. Almost immediately, tears were  running down her cheeks. She glanced over at Jonathan, thinking  that he suddenly looked old.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 10

Lois felt weightless, floating in a sea of tranquility. In the  distance, she could see someone coming. Although she couldn't  make out the figure, she felt no fear. In fact, although she was  underwater, there was no anxiety and, it seemed, no need to  breathe.

As the figure got closer, she saw the strangest creature. From  the waist up, he was a man. From the waist down, he was a fish.  She wondered briefly if she was looking at the male version of a  mermaid. The man was old - older, she was certain, than anyone  she'd ever met. He was bare-chested with white hair on his chest  to match the long, flowing white hair that seemed to float around  his head and his full, white beard. In his hand, he held a large  three-pronged fork.

"You're lucky," he said.

It briefly occurred to Lois that although he had opened his mouth  and she could understand his words, he had not spoken. But since  they were underwater, she supposed if he had spoken, she wouldn't  have been able to hear him.

"It's not your time," he continued.

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she figured that  being called lucky was probably a good thing. "Well, you know  what they say: You've got to be good to be lucky."

"And lucky to be good," he immediately added.

She tilted her head to the side, slightly surprised that he would  have known that saying. He seemed too old, almost as if he  belonged to a different time in history, to be familiar with  current sayings. "So why am I lucky?"

"Because someone made a plea to the gods, asking that you be  given back to him."

"Is that who you are? God?"

"I'm the god of the sea."

"So who made this plea for you to give me back?"

"One who is favored by the gods."

She groaned, suddenly conscious of how much it hurt to breathe.  Still, she pulled a breath into her lungs as the dream began to  fade. Whereas a moment ago she'd felt weightless, now she felt as  if she weighed a ton. She forced open her eyes and glanced around  at an unfamiliar room. She could see a woman asleep in a chair  nearby.

"Plea... please..." she croaked out with a hoarse voice. "Could I  have some water?"

The woman woke, looking at her in shock. "Vous etes reveille!"  the other woman exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

"Please... I don't... I don't understand."

"Elle est reveillee! Elle est reveillee!" the other woman yelled,  heading towards the door to the room.

"Please don't go," Lois said, attempting to move to a seated  position on the bed before collapsing back in pain. When she  spoke again, she was speaking to an empty room. "At least tell me  where I am. Or who you are." She hesitated for a moment before  voicing her final thought. "Or who I am."

* * * * * * * * *

A long time passed after the woman left before Lois tried to move  again, but between her lack of strength and the pain accompanying  even the smallest attempt, she finally gave up, looking around  the room instead. The walls were white and she was fairly certain  that she was in some sort of medical facility. On the other hand,  if this was a hospital, it certainly was rundown. The paint on  the walls was peeling. It didn't even have the antiseptic smell  she normally associated with a hospital.

Over to the side, she saw a small table pushed up against the  wall. On it was a pitcher containing a clear liquid which she  assumed was water. Beside the pitcher were two glasses. Her mouth  watered slightly at the sight. She tried to sit up again,  desperately wanting some water but the pain was simply too much  for her and she was quickly forced to give up the task as futile.

The small windows had light streaming through them, telling Lois  that it was daytime. But she still had no idea where she was or  why she was there or even who she was. That, combined with the  fact that she couldn't seem to move enough to get out of the bed,  was absolutely terrifying. Suddenly, the door to the room again  opened, and in walked a tall, older man wearing a white jacket  over a faded T-shirt and jeans.

"Thank god," she breathed. "Are you a doctor? Can you tell me  where I am? Or what happened? Or... Can you at least tell me my  name?"

The man in the white coat said something, but like the woman who  had been in there earlier, Lois was unable to understand him.

"Please, do you speak English?" she said loudly and slowly. "I  don't... I don't know what you're saying." As she spoke, she  attempted to move once again.

The man instantly rushed to her bedside, speaking rapidly  although Lois could not understand a single word. Was he not  speaking English? Or had something happened to her that had  caused her to forget how to understand the spoken word? A sudden  feeling of panic rose in her chest. What if she could no longer  understand people - or make people understand her?

The man pushed gently on her shoulder, forcing her back onto the  bed. At first, Lois' fear caused her to resist, but he continued  speaking, his voice gentle and persuasive, repeating one phrase  over and over to her.

"Ne bougez pas."

She imitated him, saying the words back to him that he was trying  to make her understand. "Ne bougez pas."

His eyes lit up. "Oui. Oui. Ne bougez pas."

"French!" she said, recognizing the French word for 'yes' -  although in truth, it sounded more like a guttural 'why' than  'we'. Still, relief flooded through her. She hadn't lost the  ability to understand the spoken word. He was just speaking a  language foreign to her.

"Oui, oui," the doctor repeated. The doctor pointed down at her  chest and said something else.

She glanced at her chest and saw large bandages. Her hand came up  and she lightly touched the bandages before looking back at the  doctor.

"Ne bougez pas," he said again, placing his hand on her shoulder  and pushing her slightly into the mattress. Then he said  something else that she didn't understand at all. She crinkled  her eyebrows as she tried to figure out what he was saying.

"Ne bougez pas," he said, repeating the words and the gesture.

Suddenly, she understood. He was trying to tell her to stay  still, probably trying to explain that she had been hurt and  that... what? Maybe she'd pull some stitches out if she tried to  move. She finally nodded at him saying the one phrase she now  knew in French. "Ne bougez pas."

Lois allowed her head to collapse back into the pillow. All that  work and all she knew at this point was that this man wearing a  white jacket didn't want her trying to move - and that she'd  somehow hurt herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to  regain her strength, only looking back at the man when he picked  up her wrist, placed his fingers on her pulse and looked at his  watch. He was a doctor. Or at least, she suspected he was. But  then that was what she had suspected when he'd first entered the  room.

So how did she go about getting answers to all the other  important questions which were going through her mind? Suddenly,  the whole task seemed too daunting especially when all she really  wanted was some... "Water?" she asked, hoping he would understand  her.

When he looked up, she raised her hand in a gesture as if she was  drinking and then pointed to the table on which she thought she  could see a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses.

"De l'eau?"

She nodded her head vigorously, hoping that he had understood her  request and realized that she was asking for water. She memorized  the word he had just used since she suspected she'd need to use  that word again. He immediately made his way to the nearby table  and poured what she hoped was water into a glass. When he  returned, he took a seat on the side of the bed and carefully  raised her enough so that she could sip at the water.

"Merci," she replied, using one of the few words she knew in  French.

He smiled and helped her lie back down before returning the water  to the table. While he was gone, she gathered her strength,  knowing that there was one thing, above all others, that she  needed to know before he finished her exam and left the room.

When he returned, she pointed to him and asked, "Name?" He looked  confused so she repeated both the word and the gesture.

His eyes suddenly lit up. "Doctor Jean Turcotte," he said,  pointing to himself.

"Doctor Jean Turcotte," she repeated, pointing at him, glad for  this confirmation that he was a doctor.

He nodded his head vigorously. She took a deep breath and then  pointing at herself asked, "Name?"

He looked confused so she repeated the gesture and the word. When  he still didn't seem to understand, she pointed at him and said,  "Name: Doctor Jean Turcotte."

"Oui."

"Name?" she asked again, pointing at herself.

He suddenly began talking but Lois was unable to understand  anything he was saying. She continued trying to make him  understand that she didn't know her name but the harder she  tried, the more confused he seemed to become and the louder he  spoke, as if somehow by speaking louder he could make her  understand whatever it was that he was trying to tell her.  Finally, it was all too much for her and she closed her eyes,  allowing her head to fall back against the pillow. She was asleep  again within seconds.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri Rousseau walked towards the small clinic, the previous  day's edition of the Daily Planet tucked firmly under his arm.  Dropping his cigarette, he crushed it under his foot as he  continued towards his destination. At the age of twenty-nine he'd  spent most of his life on the water, first on his father's  fishing boat and then, after his father died, on his own, eking  out a meager existence as his father had before him.

The small town called Isle d'Or was located on an island, just  off the coast in the northern part of New Troy. The occupants of  the town, who spoke almost exclusively French, had descended from  some French coureurs-de-bois who had come to the island hundreds  of years before. They had mingled with the natives of the island,  leaving behind their descendants and their language. The  crumbling houses and dirt roads gave lie to the town's name  which, literally translated, meant The Island of Gold. Given the  lack of money, the only contact this small community had with the  main part of the state was from the fishing boats which  transported fish to market in Metropolis. As a result, the town's  language and culture remained mostly intact.

Isle d'Or had been named by the original settlers for the gold  they had found in the hill up against which the small town was  nestled. Unfortunately, the gold had run dry years before,  leaving only an impoverished town and an abandoned mine behind.  Dimitri had accepted his poverty as a fact of life - until he'd  spotted the picture on the front page of the Daily Planet. Well,  that was about to change - at least for him. All he needed to do  now was to take advantage of the situation.

Who would have believed when he'd pulled the drenched woman off  the old plank floating in Hobbs Bay during his last trip to take  his fish to market in Metropolis that she would turn out to be so  valuable? She had been unconscious, seriously injured and  suffering the worst case of hypothermia Dimitri had ever seen.  He'd tended to her injuries as best he could and warmed her up  before turning her over to the doctor upon his return to Isle  d'Or. He had almost dropped her off in Metropolis. But it had  been late. He'd already cast off for home. And he really hadn't  wanted to have to go back. It was a lucky thing now that he  hadn't turned her over to authorities in Metropolis.

Of course, once he'd dropped her off at the clinic, he had  promptly forgotten all about her - until he'd seen the front page  of the previous day's edition of the Daily Planet.

Superman had said he would be grateful. Well, what if there was a  way to turn that 'gratitude' into something a little more...  tangible?

"Bonjour, Doctor," Dimitri said, seeing the doctor sitting on the  steps of the old clinic as Dimitri approached. "How's the patient  this morning?" he asked in French, knowing that French was the  only language the village's doctor spoke.

Of course, 'Doctor' was really more of an honorary title than a  statement about the man's education. His father had been the town  doctor and so he had inherited the role, learning how to care for  the town's residents as problems arose, but with no formal  training. Still, over the years he'd treated everything from  scrapes and bruises to heart attacks, from serious accidents to  bullet wounds - like the ones he'd undoubtedly had to deal with  for his current patient - in the process learning what he needed  to know as it became necessary.

"I was beginning to think she would never regain consciousness."

"But she did?" Dimitri's heart sank. This would be so much easier  if she remained unconscious.

The doctor nodded. "She finally woke up this morning. She's still  very weak, but she seems to be recovering well. There is one  thing, however."

"What?" asked Dimitri.

"She doesn't know who she is."

Dimitri's eyebrows rose. If she had to wake up, this was better  than he could have hoped for. He'd spent most of last night  preparing a place for his new 'guest', just in case she woke up  too soon, but such precautions might prove to be unnecessary  should what the doctor was saying prove to be true.

"I tried to explain to her how she was found, but I couldn't make  her understand. She doesn't speak French. And since neither Marie  or I speak English... Let's just say, I'm glad you're here." The  doctor rose to his feet. "I need you to act as my translator."

"Just a second, Doctor," said Dimitri, trying to organize his  thoughts. This had to be played just right if it was going to  work. And although she'd been half dead when he'd first found  her, he'd still been able to tell that she was a beautiful woman.  Stripping her out of her wet clothes. Using his own body to warm  hers. He had to admit that he'd been tempted to take advantage of  the situation even then. A small smile began to pull at one  corner of his mouth as an idea began to take hold. Maybe he could  benefit in more ways than one with this deal. "There is something  I need to talk to you about first." He waited until the doctor  had again taken his seat before continuing.

"Would you say this amnesia is permanent?"

The doctor shrugged. "There are no injuries to her head - which  suggests that the trauma her body went through or the emotional  trauma associated with her injuries has caused her to lose her  memory."

"So when will she recover?"

"There is no way to tell."

"And she knows none of this?"

The doctor shook his head. "I had no way to tell her."

Dimitri considered that for a long moment before reaching a  decision. "What would you say if I told you that I could get you  a new clinic?" he asked the doctor.

* * * * * * * * *

"Bonjour, ma petite choute."

Lois' heart fell. When she'd first heard the door open, she'd  been hopeful that someone had finally come to see her who she  could understand. Instead, the first words out of the new man's  mouth were completely indecipherable to her. As a result, she  simply looked away from where the nurse, whose name she'd learned  was Marie, had helped her sit up in the bed, pillows propped up  behind her.

He didn't seem deterred. The smile on his face did not fade as he  made his way towards her bed. Her eyes returned to him. He was  younger than the doctor. She suspected he was closer to her age -  maybe a bit older. His hair was a little too long for her tastes  and his bangs hung slightly over his eyes, giving him an unkempt  look. He had a decent body and a strong face. It was obvious to  her that the man lived his life in the sun. He was darker than  his obvious native heritage would dictate and his skin appeared  hard, windblown. Still, she had to admit, he was relatively good  looking. Not that he was her type. Her eyebrows crinkled in  confusion - assuming, of course, she had a type.

"How you feeling?" he asked, taking a seat on the side of her  bed.

She automatically shifted positions to move a little further away  from him, giving him room to sit without touching her. "You speak  English."

He crinkled his eyebrows, as if not entirely sure what she was  saying. Oh, god, what if he didn't know what she was saying? What  if she could now understand, but couldn't speak the language?

"Of course I speak English," he responded.

She let out a breath of relief. He could understand her. Her  relief dissipated into confusion when he reached up and pushed  her hair over her shoulder. She jerked away, confused when he  looked hurt. Still, he slowly lowered his hand so that it was  resting against his leg.

"You scared the hell out of me, ma petite choute. I thought I'd  lost you."

"Do I know you?" she asked cautiously.

He looked completely stunned. "Doctor Jean said you'd lost your  memory. But I thought... Surely you remember me, Lois?"

"My name's Lois?" she asked in return, grasping onto the one  thing she could absorb at the moment.

"Lois Rousseau. You're my wife."

She was too stunned to react when he leaned over, his hand buried  itself in her hair as his lips landed on hers. Her husband! She  didn't even know his name - how could he be her husband? Her mind  was a swirl of confusion. He was her husband! She'd actually  married this man. It suddenly occurred to her that he was kissing  her. But of course he was kissing her. He was her husband and  she'd almost died. What did she think he would do? She gave a  half-hearted effort to respond. A groan escaped the back of his  throat as his hand left her hair to run along her leg. He pushed  his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of stale cigarettes.

Her response was automatic. She pushed him away, using every  ounce of strength she still possessed. He tumbled back slightly,  having to fight to remain seated on the side of the bed. For a  moment she could have sworn she detected anger in his eyes. But  then it was gone, replaced instead with what appeared to be  confusion, even hurt.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling the need to reassure him. He was  her husband, after all. So didn't he have the right to expect  that his kiss would be welcome? "Try to understand. I'm just..."  She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, straightening it  from where he had messed it up.

"You really don't remember?" he asked, searching her eyes as if  seeking confirmation.

She studied his face, looking for something, anything that was  familiar to her. She blinked slightly when a flash of...  something... came to her. The same face, leaning over her, hair  dripping wet. But as suddenly as the image came, it was gone.  "I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't... I mean, maybe, but..."  She let out a slow breath, breaking eye contact with him. "To  tell you the truth, I don't even remember your name."

Dimitri smiled. "Well, you didn't remember your own name so I  guess I shouldn't be too hurt. My name is Dimitri." He reached  towards her tentatively. This time she forced herself not to  shrink from his touch. His hand gently covered hers. "We're  newlyweds."

"Newlyweds?"

Dimitri nodded. "We saved every penny we could for over a year -  just to spend a few days in a fancy hotel in Metropolis for our  honeymoon."

"So what happened?"

"We were coming back from supper when these two guys with guns  stepped out of the shadows and demanded all our money. We didn't  have much left, but... I'm sorry. I know you wanted me just to  give it to them, but I couldn't." He lowered his head, looking  thoroughly ashamed as he broke eye contact with her. "I almost  got you killed." He let out a slow breath. "You probably hate me  now."

Lois hesitated for a second, not entirely sure what to do. He  looked so dejected. "No, of course not," she finally said,  reaching over and patting his shoulder in what she hoped was a  comforting manner. "I couldn't hate you." When he looked up, she  continued. "I loved you enough to marry you, didn't I? I mean,  not giving the men our money might not have been the smartest  move, but it almost sounds like something..." Her voice suddenly  trailed off in confusion. She'd been about to say that it sounded  like something she might have done. But where had that thought  come from? After all, refusing to give a couple of punks with  guns her money would be crazy - wouldn't it?

"It almost sounds like something...?" he prompted.

"Huh?" She met his eyes. "Oh, nothing." She gave a slightly  nervous laugh. "I don't remember what I was going to say. I hope  that doesn't mean I've got some sort of recurring amnesia," she  added, trying to lighten the mood. When he just looked troubled,  she instantly felt bad. "I'm sorry. Bad joke. You must have been  worried."

He picked up her hand and gave it a kiss. Lois found it sort of  sweet - and at the same time, disturbing. Still, she said  nothing.

"Doctor Jean says your memory should come back in time. You'd  tell me if you remembered something, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," said Lois, although not entirely certain she would.  She believed him when he said he was her husband. After all, why  would someone lie about something like that? It was just... She  hesitated. Maybe these funny feelings were just a result of her  not having her memory, but she couldn't get past the thought of  him kissing her. It had felt so... wrong. And if they were  newlyweds... what exactly would he be expecting of her?

"You look troubled," said Dimitri.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking. Trying to see if I  remembered anything."

"And...?"

She shook her head.

"So did Doctor Jean say when I could get out of here?" she asked.

He laughed. "I think he'd like to wait until you can actually get  out of bed on your own before letting you come home, ma petite  choute."

"Ma petite choute?" she asked, trying not to focus on the  implications of the 'going home' part.

"My little cabbage," he said, adjusting positions to sit on the  bed with her, dropping his arm loosely around her shoulders.  "It's a term of endearment. In English, you might say...  pumpkin."

"Oh." She was unsure what else to say. Part of her wished he'd  leave. But he seemed to be making himself more comfortable, as if  planning to stay for hours. She pushed the thought away as  uncharitable. After all, he must have been so worried about her -  probably still was. Still, it was a relief when the doctor  entered the room and made his way to her bedside.

He said something to Dimitri that Lois couldn't understand.

"He says he's here to conduct your exam. And he wants me to  translate," Dimitri informed her.

Lois felt uncomfortable about Dimitri being there for her exam.  But she did need him to act as translator. And beside, she told  herself for the hundredth time, he was her husband.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 11

Doctor Jean paced nervously in the outer room as he waited for  Dimitri to say goodbye to his 'wife.' Following his exam of Lois,  he'd told Dimitri that Lois needed to rest. Dimitri had asked for  a minute to say goodbye.

When Dimitri had suggested that they use the situation to get  Superman to come up with some money to improve the town, Jean had  agreed. Dimitri had assured him that the entire deception would  only take a few days, during which time they needed to be sure  they could control Lois Lane's activities. Letting her believe  that she was Dimitri's wife had seemed an easy way to accomplish  the task. Then Dimitri would send the woman back to her friends  and family no worse for wear. The entire plan was harmless,  really.

And Jean had to admit to being frustrated about the way the State  of New Troy seemed to have forgotten about the small town of Isle  d'Or. Jean could certainly use new equipment and proper  medicines. The infant mortality rate could be lowered. Clean  water could be guaranteed. It had seemed like an innocent  deception at the time.   The problem had started for Jean when he'd witnessed how  uncomfortable Lois Lane was when Dimitri stayed in during the  exam. He wasn't sure if it was because she had a sneaking  suspicion they were deceiving her or if it was just a normal  side-effect of the amnesia. But whatever it was, it made him  nervous.

Maybe he should simply suggest the woman remain in the clinic  while they dealt with Superman. On the other hand, Jean really  didn't have the resources to keep her in the clinic. Marie had  assisted while Lois was unconscious. But she had a home and a  family. She couldn't stay on a full time basis for the next few  days. And Jean had other people to see and couldn't do it by  himself. Normally when someone in town needed full time  assistance, Jean recruited the person's friends and family to  assist in the person's care. Letting Dimitri take care of the  woman had seemed like the perfect solution.

But now Jean wasn't so sure. He'd known Dimitri all his life. The  man was a hardworking fisherman. In his earlier years, he had  been a bit of a ruffian. But Jean hadn't heard anything like that  in recent years. At the age of thirty-one, he had not yet married  - something that was considered rather unusual in the community.  So did Jean really know how Dimitri would conduct himself in this  situation?

He looked up when Dimitri exited Lois' room, closing the door  behind him.

"I don't know that this is the right thing to do," said Jean in  French, stopping his pacing to address Dimitri. "You promise me  that nothing will happen to her?"

"Nothing will happen. We're just doing what the government won't  do. We're doing what is necessary. Nothing more. You must realize  that we need outside help. Do you see another way?"

"No, I don't. But this... It just seems wrong. I need to be sure  that she'll be safe and you'll let her go as soon as you pull off  this deal with Superman."

"She'll be fine. I promise," Dimitri reassured the doctor, giving  his shoulder a squeeze. "Now, I just need to go and get a few  things ready. You say she should be able to get out of here  tomorrow?"

"Assuming her recovery continues as it has," said Jean  cautiously, still not entirely convinced.

"Good," Dimitri said, turning to leave the room.

* * * * * * * * *

Albert, Pascal and Eugene, Dimitri's three brothers, listened in  silence as Dimitri explained his plan. Eugene was the one who  finally spoke.

"I do have one problem with this."

"And that is?"

"Superman. If you release the woman after getting ransom money  from Superman, she'll be able to lead him right to us."

"I know," Dimitri responded. "That is why, once Superman gives  into our demands, the woman dies. The doctor can't know that part  of the plan. He thinks we'll be letting her go. But I'm not too  worried. Once he gets some money for a new clinic, he'll keep his  mouth shut. He doesn't want to go to prison - although he'd  probably come up with some altruistic reason, like the town needs  a doctor. Still, it will keep him quiet. The rest of the money  will be ours."

"Have you figured out how you're going to pick up the ransom?  After all, with Superman's eyesight and speed, he could stake out  the drop site and you'd never even know he was there."

"Easy. I'm going to ask for a huge amount of money. Then I'm  going to have him divide it up and drop it off in several places.  He can't watch all of them at once. Even if we only get one or  two of the stashes, we'll still be filthy rich." He gave that a  moment to sink in before continuing. "So are you all in?"

They exchanged looks with one another before nodding in unison.

"Get some clothes from Isabelle," Dimitri said, looking at  Albert. "Your wife is about the same size as the woman. We need  to make it look like she has been living in my house. And  Eugene... I need you to purchase a cell phone so that no one will  be able to trace our calls."

"I can't afford a cell phone. I've got a family to feed"

Dimitri looked at his brother. "We'll all chip in. Trust me,  we'll soon have enough money to buy a million cell phones. More  money than you can possibly imagine."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark knew only two things as he entered the newsroom on the  sunny Monday morning: first, he was late and, second, he didn't  care. Let Perry fire him if he wanted to. He forced himself to  put one foot in front of the other, purposely ignoring the  sympathetic looks from his colleagues. He didn't want sympathy -  if he did, he'd still be at home with his parents. But it had  been too hard, watching them try to be strong for him - even  though he knew this news was tearing them apart inside. His  mother, in particular. She regarded Lois as a kindred spirit -  had ever since Lois visited Smallville a few weeks previously.

He was at the Daily Planet simply because he had nowhere else to  go. For the first time in his life, he understood why Lois buried  herself in work whenever her personal life was too much for her  to handle. The thought of Lois caused his stomach to give a small  lurch.

Suddenly, people seemed to be approaching from every direction.  Clark turned around, unexpectedly feeling more than a little  claustrophobic.

"I'm so sorry, Clark," said Eduardo, giving Clark's arm a  squeeze.

"It will just take time, Clark," said Sandy from advertising,  giving him a sad smile.

"Such a shock."

"We're all here for you."

"She was so young. It's such a tragedy."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Is there going to be a memorial service?"

"I don't believe it. I just don't believe it."

"How you holding up?"

"I always liked her. This place just won't be the same without  her."

"Are you okay?"

"She was a great reporter."

"It's such a great loss to all of us."

"I know how hard this must be for you."

"Bad luck, buddy," said Ralph.

Afterwards Clark wasn't sure what finally pushed him over the  edge. Maybe it was too much of a reminder of what he had lost.  Maybe it was the phony look of sympathy on the face of someone  like Ralph - a man who had screwed up the investigation. Maybe,  just maybe if Ralph had done his job when he'd first arrived at  Water Street, Lois would have been found. Clark knew that wasn't  fair. Ralph didn't even know that Lois had been staying at the  Lexor so would not have been able to make the connection anyway.  But Clark wasn't feeling exactly charitable at the moment.  Whatever the reasons, Clark was suddenly unable to take all the  sympathetic words and looks. Besides, why were all these  sympathetic comments directed at him? Whatever the reason, for  the second time in as many days, Clark snapped.

"What? Does everyone know that I loved her?" he demanded, his  voice drowning out all the sympathetic voices. The newsroom was  silent for a moment, but to Clark it seemed like an eternity, as  everyone stared at him in shock. He guessed he could understand  that. He'd just announced his feelings for Lois to the entire  newsroom. And, contrary to his character, he'd just snapped at  every one of his colleagues, all of whom were just trying to be  supportive. "I'm sorry," he said contritely.

He felt a number of people pat his arm, his back, his shoulder as  they made their way back to desks or continued on with their  assignments. He moved towards the railing, grasping onto it in an  effort to get himself under control. He closed his eyes. Maybe it  had been a mistake to come in today. After all, how much good  would he be when he couldn't even keep his feelings under  control?

"C.K.?"

Clark turned towards the familiar face. Jimmy looked  uncharacteristically nervous about addressing him. He guessed he  could understand that - given the way he'd responded to everyone  less than a minute before.

"What is it, Jimmy?" Clark forced himself to ask.

"There's someone who has been waiting for you all morning."

Jimmy pointed towards the newsroom, directing Clark's attention  to a very beautiful young woman sitting in the spare chair beside  his desk. He looked back at Jimmy, a question in his eyes.

"She wouldn't say a word - just that she had to talk to you."

Clark crinkled his eyebrows as he made his way slowly towards his  desk. Maybe she was here to give him information about Lois. If  that were the case, then she was the one person to whom Clark  actually wanted to speak. Although he now knew that Lois was dead  and that her murders were also dead, there was still the matter  of understanding why she had been killed. And he had to  understand.

"I'm Clark Kent."

The woman immediately looked up from where she was absently  drawing doodles with her finger on the corner of his desk. "Mr.  Kent," she said, instantly rising from her seat.

He gestured her back down, taking a seat himself. "What can I do  for you?"

"A mutual friend of ours suggested we might be able to help each  other."

Clark tilted his head to the side. "Who..." His voice trailed off  when it suddenly occurred to him who had probably sent her. It  felt like a lifetime had passed since he'd spoken to Madam  Benoit. The woman must have realized he knew to whom she was  referring because she resumed speaking.

"I understand a friend of yours was killed - and you think it  might be connected with a party that took place at 1726 Water  Street on Friday night. I was at that party."

Clark let out a slow breath, not entirely sure the happenings at  that party were particularly relevant anymore. It might make more  sense to follow up on the two men who had apparently killed Lois.  "Well, thanks for coming in Ms..." He rose to his feet.

"Cindy. Cindy McPherson."

"Thanks for coming in Ms. McPherson. But I'm not sure your  assistance is necessary anymore. Maybe if I could get your phone  number in case..."

"Mr. Kent, a friend of mine, Joanne Smith, never returned from  that party."

Clark sank back into his chair. Two women missing on the same  night, from the same vicinity, both having a connection to the  same party? Could it really be a coincidence? "I assume she  was..." He hesitated, not sure about the politically correct  term. "...a working girl?"

Cindy nodded.

"Have you called the police to report her missing?"

"What are the police going to do? I'm a working girl. Joanne was  a working girl. We might be Madam Benoit's girls, but that still  doesn't make us high priority as far as the police are concerned  - especially when the men involved are powerful politicians.  What's one or two fewer prostitutes in the city? I only notified  Madam Benoit of Joanne's disappearance when she called me  yesterday evening. She's the one who suggested I talk to you.  Please, Mr. Kent, I heard this morning that someone you cared  about was killed. I care about Joanne."

The plea got through to Clark. "I know just the cop you should  talk to," he said, rising to his feet. "He'll be sympathetic to  your story. And he's been looking for a reason to get into Suite  1110, 1726 Water Street. I take it that is where you last saw  her?"

Cindy nodded. "Joanne stayed behind with Congressman Harrington  when I left with the others." She didn't rise to her feet. "Are  you sure this cop will actually follow up on this?"

"If he doesn't, he'll be looking at a scathing article in the  Daily Planet about how the cops don't care about missing persons  when the prime suspects in their disappearances are powerful  politicians. I think that might be enough to get him moving. But  I doubt that will be necessary. Henderson is a good man."

Cindy finally smiled, rising to her feet. "Thank you, Mr. Kent."

"The name's Clark," Clark said, leading Cindy towards the  elevators. "Come on. I'll take you to see Inspector Henderson  right now."

* * * * * * * * *

Jimmy made his way to the door to Perry's office. He'd been  trying to avoid the chief today. If Clark's mood was bad, Perry's  was worse. He suspected the only difference between the two men  was that Perry felt no need to be polite. As a result, though,  he'd been snapping at everyone all morning.

Jimmy was struggling with Lois' death himself and really didn't  think he could handle Perry yelling at him today.

"Chief?" he asked, hovering just outside the editor's office.

"What is it, Jimmy?" asked Perry, looking up.

"Umm... one of the people answering phones just received a call I  think you should know about."

Perry reached a hand towards the note Jimmy was holding. Jimmy  immediately stepped forward, placing the small slip of paper in  his boss' hand, before stepping back into the doorway.

"Come on in, son," said Perry. "And close the door."

Jimmy did as instructed, boosted somewhat by Perry referring to  him as 'son.'

"Umm... I'm not quite sure what to make of this message,"  continued Jimmy.

Perry looked down at the note in his hand before looking up at  Jimmy in shock. Then he redirected his attention to the note and  began to read. "Tell Superman to buy a cell phone and be at the  Daily Planet this afternoon at precisely two o'clock. If he's not  there or doesn't get the phone, he'll never see his girlfriend,  Lois Lane, ever again."

"The original message was in short hand," Jimmy explained. "I got  a transcript of the actual call when I saw what it was. I wanted  to be sure that the person who took the message understood. And  since all the calls at the moment are being recorded in hopes of  something leading to Lois..." Jimmy shrugged. "What do you think,  chief? I mean, Lois is dead, right? But if this man is telling  the truth..."

"That's a big 'if,' Jimmy. This guy might just be trying to cash  in on Lois' disappearance. Still, if there's a chance..." Perry  paused. "Get Clark in here. I hate to give him reason to hope,  but I don't see a way around it. He's the one most likely to be  able to contact Superman."

"I think I overheard him saying he was going to see Inspector  Henderson," said Jimmy.

"So he's not here?"

Jimmy shook his head.

"Get ahold of Henderson," Perry instructed. "Tell him what's  going on. And have him tell Clark that we need to find Superman."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 12

Henderson sat in stunned silence as he hung up the phone. Someone  had contacted the Daily Planet claiming he had Lois and demanding  to speak to Superman. Henderson had been certain Lois Lane was  dead. He'd made that very clear to Perry, who had, no doubt, made  it very clear to Clark. Henderson had simply been unable to  imagine an alternative.

Not that this call meant Lois was alive. It was entirely  possible, in fact likely, this was some crank, trying to  capitalize on the situation. Clark would be here shortly,  according to Olsen, and it would fall to Henderson to tell him  about this development. If he gave Clark hope, and then this  turned out to be some crank, Henderson would personally track the  guy down and find a way to make him serve as much time in jail as  possible.

"The man at the front said to come on in," said Clark from the  doorway. "Something about you expecting us?"

"Right," said Henderson, gesturing Clark and the beautiful young  woman with him into his office.

"So what's going on, Bill?"

"Why don't you tell me why you're here first? Then we can get to  the reason I knew you were coming," Henderson responded, not sure  if he should give Clark this information in front of a strange  woman.

Clark nodded. "This is Cindy McPherson," Clark began before  filling Henderson in on the missing girl and the Suite 1110  party.

When he was finished, Henderson leaned back in his chair. Two  women missing in one night. One presumably inside the building.  One just outside. Lois had been taking pictures of the room  before her disappearance. Could it be a coincidence? Well, one  thing was for sure. They should have enough for a search warrant.  Henderson rose to his feet and headed to the door of his office.

"Sargeant Zymak," he called into the next room. An officer who  was much heavier set than Henderson came over. "Would you get  Cindy McPherson's statement?" He glanced over at Clark and Cindy.  "I've promised Ms. McPherson immunity against any charges of  soliciting. But we need a search warrant for Suite 1110, 1726  Water Street. Once you have her statement, call Mayson Drake at  the D.A.'s office and tell her what we need. Lane's photos and  Ms. McPherson's statement should be enough."

"Yes, sir," Zymak said, waiting for Cindy to accompany him before  leading her towards his desk.

Henderson watched them go before turning back to Clark. He needed  to tell Clark what he'd learned from Olsen. He just wasn't  entirely sure how to do so without giving Clark too much hope.

* * * * * * * * *

"What is it, Bill?" asked Clark. He'd been practically climbing  out of his skin since first entering the office. It had been  obvious the entire time that Henderson was needing to tell him  something. By the way Henderson was acting, Clark suspected they  had found Lois' body - and Henderson was trying to think of a way  to tell him.

"Now this is probably nothing," Henderson began slowly. "But  apparently after you left, the Daily Planet got a phone call."

"From whom?"

"They don't know. But the caller claims he is holding Lois  hostage."

"What?" exclaimed Clark, jumping to his feet. "Lois is alive?"

"We don't know that. It's probably just some con-man, trying to  cash in."

"What does he want? What did he say? Did he give any indication  of where he's holding Lois?"

"Clark..."

"So what are we doing here? What's the next step? Does he want  money or is he after something else?"

Henderson sighed. "Apparently he wants Superman to buy a cell  phone and be at the Daily Planet at two o'clock this afternoon.  So I guess you need... to get ahold of Superman."

The final phase was heard by Clark only thanks to his  superhearing as he practically ran out of Henderson's office.  Maybe there was something more to the message and he could only  find that out by talking to whomever had taken the phone call.

* * * * * * * * *

"Yes, sir," said the man quietly into the phone. "They seem to be  taking the call seriously."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Sir?" the man finally asked.

"Thanks, Ray. I'll take it from here."

Luthor hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair as he  considered what his source at the Daily Planet had told him. Was  it possible the two goons who claimed they had killed Lois had  lied - perhaps thinking it would gain them points with him? He  smirked. They probably wished now they had not tried so hard to  impress him. On the other hand, there was nothing to suggest this  phone caller was on the level. But then could he really afford  not to take this seriously? He checked his watch.

"Nigel," he called. The man, as usual, appeared as if by magic.  "Get the car."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark slipped quietly out of the newsroom. It was easy enough to  do, considering the fact that the bullpen was like a zoo. With  all the extras still answering phones and the fact it seemed that  everyone and his dog was present in anticipation of a phone call  from the alleged kidnapper, it was hard to hear himself think.  Henderson had arrived, bringing with him experts in tracing phone  calls. Mayson Drake had also shown up. Cat, Jimmy and Perry were  all hanging around. Even Luthor was present. He maintained he had  simply come by to find out if there was any new information on  Lois - and had insisted on staying when he found out about the  man claiming he was holding Lois. As a result, it was easy for  Clark to slip out at about ten to two. After all, if the  kidnapper called a little early, he didn't want to take a chance  that he wouldn't be present as Superman.

Less than a minute later, Superman flew through the window to the  newsroom, floating quietly to the floor beside Henderson.

"Keep the guy talking as long as you can," Henderson said. "We  have everything set up to trace the call. But we're assuming that  if he wants you to buy a cell phone, it's because he's going to  be using one himself. If that's the case, it will take some time  to triangulate his position. And don't assume that Lois is alive.  Demand to speak to her - or that he gets you some other proof  that she's alive. After all, everything we have found so far  indicates that she was killed."

"I understand," said Clark, although it was hard to hear the  instructions over the blood pounding in his ears.

"I really think I should be the one to take the call," said  Luthor for at least the hundredth time. "No offence, Superman.  But this guy obviously wants money. And if he does, I'm the one  who can provide it. Besides, he can't be any worse to negotiate  with than a lot of the men I've had business deals with over the  years."

"He wants me. And I'm the one who he's going to get," said  Superman.

"It's probably best that we let this guy think we're doing what  he wants," said Henderson. "If someone other than Superman  answers the phone..."

"Phone call for Superman," called one of the temps, sending  everyone scrambling towards the speaker.

Superman snatched the phone before Luthor could take it and then  breathed deeply to calm himself before raising it to his ear.  "This is Superman," he said.

"What's the number on your cell phone?" the man asked. A slight  trace of a French accent was evident in his speech.

Superman provided the number.

"I'll call you on that phone in ten minutes. And lose the cops -  or your girlfriend dies."

"Wait, I need..." Superman looked up at Henderson. "He hung up,"  he said simply.

"What did he say?"

"He'll call back in ten minutes - on my cell phone. And somehow  he knew you guys were here. You have to go - or he'll kill Lois."

"He's just guessing that someone called the cops," said  Henderson. "You've got to keep your cool here. Even if he does  have Lois, you're going to need..."

"I won't risk Lois' life," Superman replied, cutting Henderson  off.

"Look, you're not thinking clearly," said Mayson, approaching  slowly. "You need us. Besides, it's not as if it's your choice.  You're not even family. If anyone..."

Superman didn't even wait to hear the end of the argument. He was  out of the window and standing on top of the Daily Planet before  anyone could object.

As he waited for the call, he looked up into the heavens. It was  up to him now. And no matter what happened, he would not fail  Lois. If that meant going against the cops, that was what he  would do. Of course, he needed to remember that this guy might  not even have Lois.

Clark jumped when the sound of a phone echoed through the air. He  scrambled to answer the phone, silently cursing his normally fast  reflexes for his clumsiness.

"Hello?"

"Did you get rid of the cops?"

"No one else is listening in. I need to talk to Lois."

"You're not in any position to be making demands. Now listen  to..."

"No. How do I know you have her? How do I know she's even al..."  His voice cracked. "...alive."

"You're just going to have to trust me. Now..."

"You don't even have her, do you? I don't know why I'm wasting my  time talking to you." With that Clark snapped the phone closed.  In an instant, Clark realized what he'd done and doubled over in  what almost felt like physical pain. "Oh, god!" What if the guy  didn't call back? What if he had just condemned Lois to death?  What if the guy didn't have Lois and, as a result, didn't call  back? If that were the case, Clark would never know if his hasty  actions had sentenced Lois to death or if the caller was a fraud.  How could he live with that uncertainty? An eternity seemed to  pass. He closed his eyes, silently counting every second until...  Ring.

Clark forced himself to take a deep breath and steady his nerves  before answering the phone again. "Do I get to talk to her now?"  he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

"You'll be getting an envelope in the mail tomorrow morning -  care of the Daily Planet. I'll talk to you again tomorrow at ten  a.m. And you better be a little more cooperative then or the  woman dies."

And suddenly the line went dead. Clark closed his eyes and sought  to recover his breath. He was really beginning to believe Lois  was alive. The man would never have promised proof if he didn't  have something.

* * * * * * * * *

"I'm telling you, Bill. This vigilante attitude of his is going  to get Ms. Lane killed."

"He's never been one to listen to reason," Luthor added, fueling  the fire.

"I've worked with Superman before, Mayson," Henderson said. "And  I think you're wrong about this one. Superman has always  respected the police. And he'd never do anything to endanger  Lois' life."

"But this is..."

"Is this a private discussion or can anyone join in?"

Superman's voice caused Luthor, Mayson and Henderson to spin  around, seeing Superman floating in midair. What Henderson  noticed first was his eyes, seeing there something he hadn't seen  before. Were he to try to describe it, he would say he was seeing  a new steel in the superhero's eyes.

"Any luck tracing the call?" Superman asked, floating slowly to  the floor.

"No. The call was too short for us to triangulate the position."

"I would like to thank both of you for your interest," Superman  began, "but as of now, the police are out of this. This man  doesn't want me dealing with the police. And I'm going to respect  his demand."

"You don't have the authority..." Mayson began. Her voice trailed  off when Superman raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, Superman," said Henderson. "Just tell us... did he let you  talk to Lois?"

"Not exactly. But he will be providing me with proof that she's  still alive." When Henderson opened his mouth, Superman  continued. "That's all I'm going to say at this time."

"We could have you brought up on obstruction of justice charges,"  said Mayson.

"Now... whoa!" Perry's deep voice seemed to cut through the  tension in the room. "I spoke to Lois' mother earlier. She left  the issue of handling this up to me. And..." His voice trailed  off when he glanced around the newsroom, as if looking for  someone. "And I think that we should play this Superman's way for  now."

"I think I should have a say here, too," said Luthor. "I've had  to deal with scum like this all my life - people looking for a  free handout. And with all due respect, Superman, I don't think  you're capable of handling this."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" Superman said, folding his arms across  his chest. "And exactly how are you going to stop me?"

"How are you going to get the money he's likely to demand?" asked  Luthor in return.

"I'll find a way."

"A way? Like robbing Fort Knox?"

Henderson finally spoke, trying to keep the discussion from  getting out of control. "Okay, Superman. We'll play this your  way. Just let us know if there's anything we can do to help."

"But..." Mayson began, but her voice was cut off when Henderson  grabbed her arm, gestured to the other police officers at the  Planet and began leading them towards the elevators.

"What's her problem, anyway?" asked Jimmy, looking at Mayson's  back as she waited for the elevator with the police officers.

"Some people just have a problem accepting things they don't  understand," said Perry, briefly clasping Superman's shoulder.

"Well, since you insist on doing this alone - in spite of what  the authorities say - I guess my presence isn't required here  either."

"Glad you finally realized that," said Superman.

With a huff, Luthor turned and headed towards the elevators,  keeping his head held high although his face was flushing red.

"So, son, what evidence that Lois is alive did the man promise to  provide?" Perry asked as soon as the elevator closed on Luthor.

"He didn't say. But when he realized I wasn't going to do  anything until I was satisfied that Lois was alive, he said he  would be sending an envelope to the Daily Planet tomorrow  morning. I trust you'll have it delivered to your office when it  arrives?"

"Certainly."

"And he'll be calling me again at ten tomorrow morning, so the  envelope should arrive before that. Now, if you'll excuse me..."  Superman headed towards the window, disappearing in a gust of  wind.

"Where's Clark?" asked Jimmy. "Oh, there he is," Jimmy continued  when Clark came jogging towards them from the direction of the  washrooms.

"Sorry. I was just so nervous. I had to go to the washroom. Did  the kidnapper call Superman? Is Lois alive?"

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri studied the new contraption in his hands, making sure he  knew how to use it. Then he picked up a plastic bag and stuck the  day's copy of the Metropolis Star under his arm and pushed open  the door to Lois' room.

"Bonjour, ma petite choute," he said, plastering a smile on his  face.

Lois adjusted her position on the bed. "Hi," she responded.

He ignored the 'not too pleased to see you' look on her face. He  had other things on his mind. "I brought you some things," he  said, handing her the bag

"Thanks," she replied, opening the bag and taking a look inside.  He watched as she rifled through the clothes and personal  grooming items Dimitri had bought, as if looking for something  familiar.

"Why don't you give your hair a brush?" he asked, holding up the  Polaroid camera in his hands.

"What's that?"

"I just thought... This is the first day of the rest of our  lives. I just want us to capture it in a picture."

"I don't want to have my picture taken."

He had expected that. He took a seat on the bed next to her,  putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know you are not feeling  well. But this..." He pulled her closer, giving her a kiss on her  hair. "...this is the day that you were given back to me. This is  the best day of my life. I want to remember it."

He felt her let out a breath. "Okay, you brush out your hair -  'cause I know how you hate it when your hair is a mess. And I'll  ask the doctor to come in to take the picture."

* * * * * * * * *

As Lois dutifully ran the brush through her hair, her eye caught  sight of the paper lying on the foot of the bed. Her brush  hesitated in her hair before she lowered it. The Metropolis Star.  Her nose crinkled in confusion as she stared at the paper. There  was something about it... She wasn't sure what. But it felt as if  she should be able to focus in on... something - something just  on the outside edges of her brain. Unlike the items in the bag,  there was something so familiar, almost disturbing, about the  paper. She reached out and picked it up, wondering about the  feelings of disgust it seemed to generate in her.

"What have you got there?"

Lois looked up to see Dimitri standing in the doorway with the  doctor. "Nothing. I was just seeing what was happening in the  world."

"Is anything?"

"Doesn't look like it. Unless you're into Congressional  Inquiries."

"Uhh..." He said, coming over and taking the paper from her  hands.

Dimitri crawled onto the bed next to her, put his arm around her  shoulders and said something to the doctor in French. Lois  thought Dr. Jean, as he insisted on being called, looked troubled  as he raised the camera to his eye. She tried to smile for the  sake of posterity - although she was fairly certain it would look  more like a grimace. And then... snap.

"All done," said Dimitri, rising from the side of the bed. "Now  that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No. Of course not," said Lois, trying to be pleasant.

"Good. Then I'll just let you get back to resting. You want to  get your strength up." He glanced back briefly to see where the  doctor was before turning back to her. When he spoke again, his  voice was low, as if sharing a secret with her. "It is still our  honeymoon, after all," he concluded with a wink.

Lois shivered and then watched, a frown creasing her brow as he  left the room. Letting out a breath, she glanced around the bed,  hoping to put her stuff away so that she could go back to sleep.  It only took her a moment to realize something was missing.  "Where is my brush?" she asked the empty room.

* * * * * * * * *

"What are you doing?" Pascal, the youngest of the brothers, asked  as he watched Dimitri.

"Haven't you ever watched those cop shows? We have to avoid  fingerprints," he said as he pulled a heavy pair of work gloves  on over his hands before picking up the picture. Taking a towel,  he wiped the picture, hoping to remove any lingering  fingerprints.

Using a pair of scissors, he carefully cut his face out of the  picture. He put the remainder in a brown envelope before picking  up the hair brush and withdrawing some hair.

"Why the hair?"

"So that they can confirm it's Lois Lane."

He used some tape to seal the envelope in order to avoid using  his saliva. In block letters, he wrote 'Superman' on the front  and then very carefully wiped the outside of the envelope with  the towel. "Put on your gloves," he said to his brother. He  waited until his brother complied before handing him the  envelope. "Make sure that this is at the Daily Planet first thing  in the morning."

"Should I mail it?"

"No. You need to take it there in person. Take the boat into  Metropolis. Bribe some kid on the street to take it in for you,  though, so security doesn't see you or catch you on camera. And  then get out of the area immediately - to make sure you're not  spotted."

"Right."

"Also, stay in Metropolis after dropping off the envelope. When  Superman pays the ransom, I may have another task for you."

Pascal had just left the small house when he dropped the  envelope. He cursed when the wind caught it, carrying it a little  ways away. He moved quickly, putting his foot on the envelope to  stop its forward motion and then bent over to pick it up. After  looking quickly back at the house to make sure his brother hadn't  seen, he folded the envelope and stuck it in his pocket to avoid  a repeat performance and was on his way.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 13

Henderson was absolutely shocked when he stood in the entranceway  to Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street. He could hardly believe what he  was seeing. Never before had he seen anything like it.

Zymak had contacted Mayson Drake about obtaining a search warrant  before she had gone to the Daily Planet. Then he and some of the  men who had been assigned the case had arrived, warrant in hand,  to search the premises. When Henderson arrived back at the  station, he had been told he needed to get over to the suite  immediately. Burning with curiosity, he had instantly complied.  So now he stood, stunned by what Zymak and the others had already  found.

He supposed this was the benefit of having money. Could anyone  but Church, except maybe Lex Luthor, move so fast? It had been  about twenty-four hours since he and Kent had spoken to Church  about this suite. And yet in that time, workmen had been hired to  tear up carpets, remove furniture, even remove certain parts of  the walls. They had not yet had a chance to repair the room and  have new furniture moved in, but Henderson suspected that if his  men had not arrived until tomorrow, they would have had a  completely redecorated suite available for their inspection. The  problem was that although the action did make Church look guilty  of something, without evidence there was no way to know what he  was trying to cover up. And if they dug around, he was certain  Church would make sure it looked as if these workmen had been  hired to do this job weeks before.

"Did you ask the workmen where the carpets and furniture and..."  Henderson gestured around the room. "...everything else was  taken?"

"Yeah. Apparently, it has already been destroyed," Zymak  answered.

"Destroyed?"

"Church's personal instructions."

Henderson nodded blankly.

"So did your search turn up anything?"

"Actually, we did get here before they got everything."

"What did you find?"

Zymak led Henderson over to the doorframe leading to the  washroom. "Take a look at this."

Henderson looked where Zymak was indicating to see a small,  circular-shaped hole before looking back at Zymak.

"We found a bullet in there. We sent it to ballistics - thought  it might be worthwhile comparing it to the bullet we pulled out  of that post on Water Street."

"Good thinking." Henderson wandered around the room once again.  "Looks to me like Church was trying to cover something up. Maybe  he's behind the disappearance of the lady of the evening. Maybe  he's even behind the abduction of Lois Lane."

"She's alive?"

"It's beginning to look that way. I need to find out more about  this Church character."

As he left the room, Henderson's mind drifted back to the events  at the Daily Planet earlier. He wasn't so sure that Superman was  wrong in his decision to exclude the police. After all, it wasn't  as if they knew that no one at the Daily Planet was involved -  especially with all the temp workers answering phones at the  moment.

He had been surprised by the reactions of both Luthor and Mayson  to Superman. Okay, well maybe Luthor's reaction was  understandable. After all, he was in love with Lois. But  Mayson... The superhero seemed to press all of her buttons.  Superman had pretty much responded in kind. Henderson found  himself guessing that Superman's unusual overly emotional  response was possibly because he too was in love with Lois Lane.

Henderson shook his head. Had any one woman ever been loved by  three such different - yet in their own ways remarkable - men? If  Lois was alive, he was betting that Superman would eventually win  her heart. But if it were up to him, he hoped she would choose  Clark. He might be the most 'ordinary' of the men, but his  feelings seemed the most real. Unlike the other two, Clark would  treat her as if she were the most precious thing that had ever  happened to him. With Superman, she would always be second to his  work. With Luthor, she would become a hood ornament.

So he guessed he could understand that Superman might have been  more emotional than normal. He only hoped Superman knew that  Henderson would do anything he could to help. Maybe he'd give  Clark a call when he got back to the station, ask him to make  sure Superman knew that. After all, from what he understood, Kent  was good friends with the superhero.

* * * * * * * * *

Being invaded by Mongol armies led by Genghis Khan himself  couldn't have been any scarier than one small woman's entrance  into the newsroom. One look at her face made it abundantly clear  that she was on the warpath. She stopped for no longer than a  moment at the top of the steps into the bullpen before spotting  her target - an office over to the side where the Daily Planet's  editor's face was buried in papers, a red pen grasped firmly in  his hand.

Clark was the one who noticed her first. As if she were parting  the Red Sea in front of her, people scrambled to get out of her  way in an effort to let her pass. Clark stood, entranced. He'd  seen that look before. In fact, he'd fallen in love with that  particular 'take no prisoners' look. She could be no one other  than...

"Mrs. Lane?" said Perry, rising to his feet the instant the woman  entered his office.

"What's this I hear about Superman taking the police off the case  to find my daughter?" she asked in response. "And why did I have  to hear about it from some woman at the D.A.'s office instead of  you?"

Perry flinched. "Ellen, you're right. I'm sorry. I should have  told you what happened with the police myself."

"Just because I've been busy lately doesn't mean that I don't  want to be kept informed."

"Did you manage to locate Lois' father? I'd hate for him to read  about this in the paper."

"He's... somewhere... I doubt you'd be able to find him. God  knows, I haven't. Besides, if he had really cared, he never would  have run out on his children and me in the first place."

"Mrs. Lane?" Clark asked from the doorway to Perry's office. He'd  made his way over as soon as he realized who she was, intrigued  with the possibility of meeting Lois' mother and at the same  time, not liking the circumstances. He noticed immediately the  smell of stale brandy emanating from the woman. He supposed  though, with her daughter kidnapped, a drink or two might be  expected. And she didn't seem obviously intoxicated.

"Who are you?" Ellen asked.

Clark smiled. Just like Lois, Mrs. Lane obviously liked getting  straight to the point. "I'm Clark Kent. I'm Lois' partner."

"Lois doesn't work with a partner."

Clark shrugged. "I guess she decided I wasn't so bad. We've been  working together for the last few months."

She gave him a once over. He wasn't sure what she was looking  for, but after a moment, without giving her thoughts away, she  looked back at Perry.

"So do you want to tell me what's going on? Ms. Drake told me  that Superman was refusing to cooperate with the police in  finding my daughter."

"Clark, would you close the door?" Perry asked, coming around  from behind his desk to offer Ellen Lane a seat. As she sat down,  he took a seat on the corner of his desk. Clark remained standing  near the door.

"The kidnappers somehow seemed to know that the police were  involved," Perry began. "And threatened to kill Lois if Superman  didn't get rid of them. That's why he did it. But believe me, he  is doing everything in his power to ensure the safe return of  your daughter. Provided..." His voice trailed off.

"Provided?" Ellen insisted.

"Well, there is an indication that she was shot. At this time, we  aren't even entirely sure she's alive."

"Oh god," Ellen said, showing the first real emotion, other than  anger, she had allowed them to see since coming into the office.

"Mrs. Lane, you can be sure that Superman will do everything  possible to get Lois back," said Clark, coming closer. "If I  didn't believe that, I'd be the first to oppose him in refusing  to work with the police. And Perry and I and everyone else here  are working with Superman, doing what we can to help. We will get  her back alive." He squatted down beside the older woman.

Her eyes darted between Clark and Perry for a moment. "So you're  saying that I shouldn't override Superman's decision and order  the police to get involved again."

"It's the best way to try to get Lois back," insisted Clark.

She was silent for a moment before nodding. Rising to her feet,  she looked at Clark. "Find her," she said, in nothing short of a  demand.

"Do you need a ride home?" asked Clark, rising to his feet as  well, and slightly concerned about the possibility of letting  Ellen Lane drive since she'd obviously been drinking.

"I'll catch a cab," Ellen said, turning towards the door. "You  just concentrate on finding my daughter."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois eyed the pitcher of water sitting on the table as if she  were a cat eyeing a mouse. Ten, maybe fifteen feet. In her mind,  she calculated the number of steps it would take her to get  there. As she did, her tongue came out slightly to be grasped  between her teeth. She could do it. She was sure she could.

Her first move was to sit up, swing her legs over the side and  get on her feet. The only times she'd done that since waking up  was when the nurse helped her to the washroom after the catheter  had been removed. Still, she set her chin high and, placing her  hands on the bed next to her, using her feet to help, she managed  to maneuver herself into a seated position.

She knew she could try calling for help. But it was dark and she  didn't want to disturb anyone who might be asleep. She'd come to  the conclusion that she was in a small clinic and since the nurse  at the end of the day was the same woman who had been there when  she'd first woken up, she figured she was the only nurse. And if  she lived here and was sleeping, Lois really didn't want to  bother her. Besides, she could do this.

Once she was seated, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed  was easy enough. Once that was completed successfully, she took a  moment to catch her breath.

Today had been confusing, to say the least. Waking up in a clinic  with no memory of who she was had been terrifying to Lois.  According to the doctor, she'd been shot twice - once in the leg  and once in the chest. In both cases, the bullet had managed to  go right through her without causing any serious damage. Patching  her up had been a fairly simple job. The doctor's main concern  had been the amount of blood she'd lost from the wound to her  leg. It had been that, more than anything, that had kept her from  waking up quickly.

He seemed to think that the trauma was the reason for her memory  loss - although he was unable to tell her when her memory might  return. Still, she now knew her name was Lois. She thought about  the name for a moment before giving a small nod. It worked. Other  things were a little... less comfortable - like finding out she  had a husband. Dimitri. Something about him felt... wrong. She  couldn't put her finger on it. But when he'd first entered the  room, she'd immediately thought that although he was cute, he  wasn't her type. Was it possible for her to know her type when  she couldn't even remember herself?

Besides, even if she had a type, it was possible she'd fallen in  love with him in spite of that. Still, when he'd kissed her...  She gave a small shudder. Everything about that kiss had felt  wrong - or was she just reacting to the taste of stale  cigarettes? Still, pushing him away had been completely  instinctive. But why would anyone lie about being her husband?  No. No one would do something like that. What would be the point?  She was just being paranoid. She supposed that not remembering  who one was would make anyone feel a little paranoia. But that  kiss...

She gave her head a shake when she unexpectedly had a flash of  another kiss. The roar of engines in her ears. The wind whipping  at her hair. She couldn't quite see his face. But his hand came  up to cup her cheek as he moved closer, his lips covering hers  with such tenderness. Her mouth opened slightly under the gentle  pressure of his lips. He'd tasted so good - the taste of coffee  with just a hint of chocolate, as if he'd eaten a chocolate bar  earlier. The kiss broke. She wasn't entirely sure why. And then  words... 'You take the one on the right.' The image suddenly  disappeared. She blinked, trying to recover it, but to no avail.  She still had the memory, but she was no longer there,  experiencing that kiss again, smelling the very masculine scent  of the man kissing her with such emotion.

She pushed the memory from her mind. Who knew when that kiss had  taken place? Maybe it was years before she had even met Dimitri.  What mattered now was... She eyed the pitcher of water again.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward slightly, allowing  gravity to assist her in rising to her feet. It took a moment for  her legs to feel solid beneath her. When she finally found her  footing, she took a deep breath as if having additional air in  her lungs would allow her to float slightly, before taking a step  forward. She had to stop after that first step, allowing her  energy to rebuild before attempting another step.

She was unsure how long it took her to get a glass of water and  return to her bed. All she did know was that she was completely  exhausted and feeling extremely pleased with herself. She sat  down on the side of the bed before taking a sip of water and then  placing the glass on the floor where she could easily get it if  she wanted more. Climbing into bed, she was asleep almost the  instant her head hit the pillow. She'd worry about little things  like getting her memory back tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * TUESDAY * * * * * * * * *

Superman ignored the curious looks he was getting as he paced in  the lobby of the Daily Planet. He'd been there since four,  waiting, praying for an envelope that would contain evidence that  Lois was still alive. Over the course of the past three days,  he'd undergone such incredible mood swings. From hope to fear to  despair to love to agony to anger to... well, to just about every  emotion it was possible to experience. And now he was waiting,  praying that someone really and truly had kidnapped Lois. Saying  he felt as if he was going insane would be putting the situation  too mildly.

He was so distracted that he didn't notice a boy make his way to  security and hand them an envelope. A woman behind the desk  called to him. His head snapped around to look at the woman but  still it took a moment for him to realize she was calling him.

"I've got an envelope addressed to you, Superman."

Superman was there in an instant, the adrenaline pumping through  his body. He forced himself to calm down enough to think  logically. "Just set it down," Superman said. "And make sure no  one touches it." He glanced around. "Did you see who delivered  it?"

"Yeah, a kid came in here."

"Is he still here?"

The woman glanced around before shaking her head. Superman  disappeared in a gust of wind, searching the area in front of the  Daily Planet until he saw a boy of about ten years of age. He  instantly appeared in front of him, looming over the boy, cape  billowing behind him. The boy's eyes instantly widened in  surprise until they became the shape of saucers.

"Are you the one who brought an envelope to me at the Daily  Planet?"

The boy gave a stunned nod.

"Where did you get it?" Superman demanded.

"I don't... He didn't say who he was. Really. He just gave me ten  bucks to take it inside."

Superman suddenly realized he was scaring the boy and forced  himself to float backwards and land on the sidewalk. "It's okay,"  he said, trying to give the young man a smile. "I just need you  to tell me if you see him anywhere."

The boy looked around, searching the area before shaking his  head.

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"Big guy. Not as big as you, but big. And he talked kinda funny."

"Kinda funny how?"

"I don't know. He said some of his words wrong."

"As if he had an accent?" asked Superman, his mind flashing back  to the kidnapper's French accent.

"Yeah. I guess. And he had dark hair and dark eyes."

"And he just came up to you and said...?"

"That he'd give me ten bucks if I took that envelope into the  Daily Planet."

Superman let out a breath, glancing around again. "And you're  sure you don't see him anywhere?"

The boy nodded.

"Can I take a look at the ten-dollar bill he gave you?"

The boy handed him the note.

"Could I see your hands?" Superman asked.

When the boy held his hands up, Superman instructed him touch all  ten fingers on the corner of his cape. Then he did a quick  examination of the prints on the bill, comparing it to the boy's  fingerprints using his x-ray vision to line up the prints. Every  one of the prints on the bill belonged to the boy. He let out a  breath. "Thanks," he said, handing the bill back to the boy and  being careful to ensure nothing disturbed the boy's fingerprints  on his cape. He'd need them to compare to the prints on the  envelope - although given the lack of fingerprints on the bill,  Clark couldn't say he was really very hopeful.

* * * * * * * * *

After getting a copy of the fingerprints of the woman at  security, Clark carefully examined the envelope, quickly  realizing that the only prints appeared to belong to the woman at  security and the boy who had delivered the envelope. He did  notice some dry red mud on one side, however, so he was very  careful in his handling of the envelope as he dashed into the  stairwell.

Once behind the safety of the closed door, he finally allowed his  emotions to show on his face. In only a moment, he would find out  if Lois was alive or if the hope offered yesterday was nothing  more than a cruel joke. Taking a deep breath, he looked through  the envelope. A small sob escaped from the back of his throat  when his vision focused in on a picture of Lois. God, she was so  beautiful. A man was sitting next to her, his arm around her  shoulders and his face cut out. Tucked beneath his arm was  Monday's edition of the Metropolis Star. The picture was taken  only the previous day.

He stared at Lois' face, unable to pull his eyes away from it for  a long moment. Suddenly, he blinked. He was staring at evidence  that Lois was still alive when up these stairs were two men who  were just as anxious to know if Lois was alive as he had been.

Lois was alive. Clark had to brace himself against the door. Lois  was alive.

Giving his head a shake, he directed his mind to what he had come  into the stairwell to do. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the  envelope once again, looking through it but this time looking for  fingerprints. After a moment, he let out a slow breath. Nothing.  Well, he shouldn't have expected it to be that easy.

Quickly spinning into his Clark clothes, he took off at a jog up  the stairways. After a moment, he exited the stairwell and headed  towards his editor's office.

"Is that it?" asked Perry the instant Clark entered his office.  When Clark nodded, Perry rose to his feet. "I suppose we need to  wait for Superman before opening it. After all, it is addressed  to him."

"Actually, I ran into Superman in the stairway. He was called  away on an emergency so he suggested we go ahead and open it up."  Clark laid the envelope carefully on Perry's desk. "He did say,  however, that he examined the envelope and the contents briefly,  just to find out if there were any fingerprints."

"And were there?"

Clark shook his head.

Jimmy appeared in the doorway, his eyes riveted on the brown  envelope.

"Okay, let's do this," said Perry, looking between Clark and  Jimmy.

Clark watched as Perry reached into his desk and removed a letter  opener. He carefully slit open the top of the envelope. Then,  taking a deep breath, he turned the envelope over and emptied the  contents onto his desk.

Clark's heart was in his throat while Perry examined the picture  before handing it to Clark. Even knowing what he would see didn't  stop the emotions from welling up in him once again at this  evidence that Lois was still alive. The woman in the picture was  definitely Lois. A person sitting next to her with his face cut  out had his arm around her. Clark had to make a conscious effort  not to squeeze the edge of the photo so tight that it would turn  to dust. What was the man doing with his arm around Lois? His  fury rose even further when he noticed the grimace on Lois' face.

She appeared to be in some sort of hospital gown and was sitting  in bed. Clark pulled his glasses down his nose, trying to see if  there was any insignia on the gown which would identify the  hospital. But there was nothing.

"Do we know when this was taken? I mean couldn't it have been  taken years ago?" Jimmy asked.

"He's holding yesterday's copy of the Metropolis Star," Clark  said absently, continuing to search the picture for some sign of  where it was taken. Once he left, he would check out hospitals.  But if she were in some small clinic somewhere, it would be  almost impossible to find the right one - assuming she was even  in a clinic. But he would still check out every clinic in the  Metropolis area.

"You have good eyes," said Jimmy, squinting at the photo.

Clark ignored him. Behind Lois was a small window. Clark focused  on that window, enlarging the image to look at the hill he could  see on the other side of the glass.

"Jimmy, I saw a show once where the police found a child molester  who posted pictures of his victims on the internet by running the  background through some sort of computer program. That hill..."  He pointed at the picture. "Any way you could find out which hill  that is?"

"Maybe. I think I know just the program that will do the trick."

"Then do it. Can you use the computer to give us a larger version  of that window?" He waited for Jimmy to nod before continuing.  "Then do that too. And..." He set down the picture and picked up  the envelope. "...see this mud on the back of the envelope."

"Yeah?"

"Take the envelope to Star Labs. See if they can tell you if  there is anything about the mud that's unusual. It looks a little  too red to me. But... Well, just ask them to put a rush on it."

"There is something else here," said Perry, directing Clark and  Jimmy's attention to where he was pointing at a small amount of  brown hair on the desk. "I suggest that we send it to Henderson -  get a DNA analysis."

"I'm not sure that's..."

"Henderson gave me a call this morning. He was apologetic for the  way things went down yesterday and said that if there is anything  he can do to help, just to let him know. It could be Lois' hair -  confirming that it's really her in the picture. Or it might  belong to the kidnapper - maybe got in there by mistake. And if  he has a record for violence, his DNA might be on file with the  police. I think we need to contact Henderson. And I need to call  Ellen Lane."

Clark nodded. "Okay, while you guys do that, I'm going to check  out every clinic in Metropolis - take Lois' picture. Even if she  isn't still there, someone might recognize her."

"And Superman? The kidnapper was going to call back at ten  o'clock this morning."

"He'll be here in time," Clark said before heading for the door.  "I doubt I'll make it back by then, but..." He shrugged. "I guess  that's unavoidable."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 14

Clark felt frustrated when, at 9:50 a.m., he landed in the Daily  Planet, fully decked out in his Superman uniform. He'd checked  every hospital and clinic within the city limits of Metropolis  and none of them seemed to know anything about Lois. He'd widen  his search once he'd taken this next phone call from the  kidnapper. The earlier relief he'd felt when he'd realized that  Lois was alive had faded with the realization that she was still  in grave danger. The way that man had had his arm around Lois had  been plaguing him since he'd seen the picture.

"Superman... we were concerned that you might decide not to take  the call here - given what happened yesterday," said Perry,  coming out into the newsroom and directing Clark towards his  office.

"I trust you, Jimmy and Clark. And I know I'm going to need your  help to save Lois. Anyway, I ran into Clark earlier. He told me  what you two were doing. Any luck?"

"Well, Henderson put a rush on the DNA test on the hair. And he  confirmed that it belongs to Lois. He seemed to think that this  was a very good sign," Perry said.

"And I took the envelope to Star Labs and started running the  program to try to find the hill Clark spotted in that picture.  But so far, no results," Jimmy added.

"Well, when I  talked to Clark, he said he hasn't found anything  yet either."

"Okay, then. I guess..."

Whatever Perry was going to say was lost forever when the sound  of a cell phone ringing cut him off. Superman grabbed the phone  from where he'd attached it to his belt and then took a calming  breath before answering it.

"Did you get the envelope?" asked the man's voice on the other  end of the line.

"Yes."

"So you know that she's still alive. Now, let's get down to  business. It's quite simple really. You give me fifty million  dollars. I give you your girlfriend."

"Fifty million dollars," Clark gasped. "Where am I supposed to  get fifty million dollars? No matter what you might think, I'm  not a rich man."

"You'll get it. Or Lane dies. I'll give you twenty-four hours. So  I suggest you get on it."

"Wait, I need..."

Clark's voice trailed off when the line went dead. There was  absolute silence in Perry's office for a full minute. Perry was  the one who finally broke it.

"Maybe we should call Luthor."

Clark hesitated for no more than a second before shaking his  head. "I will not have her indebted to that man."

"But where are you going to get fifty million dollars?" asked  Jimmy. "Unless you really do intend to rob Fort Knox."

Clark's head snapped up. "I think I might have an idea. But I'm  going to need every second of the time he gave me. He's calling  back tomorrow morning at the same time. You two keep doing what  you can to find Lois. I've got to see what I can do to collect  the ransom."

With only a gust of wind marking his departure, Superman was  gone, leaving Jimmy and Perry staring after him.

"That boy can really move when he's motivated," Perry finally  said.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark flew over the Arctic tundra, using his x-ray vision to  examine the ground. He was certain he was in the right area. He'd  discovered this when he'd been traveling the world years ago -  had even inquired into the process which would be required to  cash in. In the end, however, he had felt it would be cheating to  use his powers in this manner. Of course, that was before he'd  needed to raise ransom for Lois. And Jimmy was right. If it came  down to it, he'd rob Fort Knox to save Lois' life. But this way  was perfectly legal.

He smiled when he finally found what he was looking for - through  the snow and the permafrost, buried deep into the ground.  Diamonds. He quickly staked out the area and headed for  Yellowknife, North West Territories, to file his claim as  required by law.

He almost chuckled when he thought about how people would react  if they knew that Superman was about to go into the mining  business. Too bad they would never know. He'd file the claim as  Clark Kent. Then he'd dig out the diamonds as quickly and  unobtrusively as possible. Considering where the diamonds were  located, he didn't anticipate it would be a problem.

It would take some time, of course. That meant he had to leave  the task of following up on the clues they had obtained earlier  to Jimmy and Perry - at least for the time being.

When he landed in Yellowknife, he used his cell phone to make a  quick call to the Daily Planet. He spoke to Perry, in theory to  find out what had happened when the kidnapper called. During the  course of the conversation, he told Perry that he figured it  would take most of the day to check out clinics in Metropolis and  asked Perry and Jimmy to check out clinics in the area  surrounding Metropolis - the task he'd intended to do himself  before the kidnapper's ransom demand had derailed his plans.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois sank into a chair at the table in the small kitchen. The  walk from the clinic hadn't been long and Dimitri had helped her  every step of the way, but she still felt exhausted. In truth,  she would have preferred to stay at the clinic, but that simply  hadn't been possible. The doctor had promised to check up on her  a couple of times a day. She was grateful for that. But he had  made it quite clear, using Dimitri as his translator, that they  really couldn't keep her at the clinic any longer. She was well  enough to be at home.

Still, other than the exhaustion, she couldn't say the walk to...  she glanced around... to her home, had had any ill effects on  her.

Home. She studied her environment, hoping that something,  anything would look familiar.

Dimitri got up from where he was building a fire in the  fireplace. Lois had the distinct impression that the fireplace  was the cabin's sole source of heat. "Do you remember it?" he  asked.

Lois shook her head. The place wasn't much more than a shack. She  was having problems seeing it as home. She watched as Dimitri  picked up a little elephant trinket sitting on the mantle over  the fireplace. He brought it over to her.

"Do you remember this?"

She took the item, turning it over in her hands. "I'm sorry," she  said, attempting to hand it back to him.

He didn't take it. Instead, he took a seat on a chair beside her.  "You saw it in a store window on our first trip together into  Metropolis and you just had to have it." He finally reached out,  taking the small elephant back from her. "We really couldn't  afford it. But I've never been very good at denying you  anything." He got a look on his face which to Lois appeared to be  somewhat wistful.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm sure it will all come back in time," she  said, not entirely sure why she was trying to reassure him,  especially since she felt incredibly vulnerable herself. "In the  mean time, do you mind showing me the house?"

He grinned, rising to his feet and offering her his hand. She  hesitated slightly. There was something about his grin that...  She pushed the thought out of her mind. She was really going to  have to quit being so paranoid. Reaching out, she took the  offered hand, allowing him to help her to her feet.

* * * * * * * * *

Perry was finally satisfied that he had the names and numbers of  every public and private clinic of every variety within the State  of New Troy. It had been quite a task - given that every small  town seemed to have its own clinic. He began placing phone calls.  Every call was the same. First he'd ask if they had treated a  patient named Lois Lane since Friday. Then he'd ask if they had  treated any gunshot victims since Friday. Finally, he'd ask if he  could fax them a photo of Lois - for them to show around their  clinic to see if anyone there recognized her.

It had taken him hours. And so far none of the clinics had  provided him with any useful information. He gave a small sigh  and began searching for clinics and hospitals in the states  surrounding New Troy.

* * * * * * * * *

"He said you're doing well, ma petite choute," Dimitri said as  the doctor finished up his latest examination of Lois. "No ill  effects from your trip home."

Lois quickly did up her blouse, not liking the way Dimitri was  looking at her. If there were any way she could communicate with  the doctor without Dimitri's assistance, she'd find a way to make  him leave the room during her examinations. The look seemed a  little too much like a leer for Lois' comfort. Still, he seemed  so hurt whenever she pushed him away. And if she had loved him  enough to marry him... What had he said again? That they were  newlyweds? This must be very hard on him - not having her  remember him. She had to try to be sensitive. She wasn't entirely  sure why that was such a foreign concept to her.

Dimitri informed her that he needed to speak to the doctor alone  and followed him out of the house. Suddenly curious about what  they would need privacy to discuss, especially since she couldn't  understand them, she forced herself out of her chair and made her  way to a window, opening it slightly in an attempt to overhear  their conversation.

Dimitri and the doctor were standing outside. She watched as  Dimitri lit up a cigarette - grateful that if he had to smoke, he  was doing so outside the house. Although she couldn't understand  what was being said, it was obvious that the doctor was upset and  that Dimitri was trying to calm him down. She crinkled her  eyebrows as her mind struggled to catch any words which might be  familiar to her.

* * * * * * * * *

"But they must know something," said Dr. Jean. "Otherwise why  would they have sent this picture?" Jean held up the picture he'd  received earlier in the day.

"Put that away!" said Dimitri, grabbing the fax from Jean and  crumpling it with his free hand as he glanced back at the house.  "Do you want her to see this?" He held up his hand with the  crumbled fax in it.

"I just think we should get out of this now. Tell her it was a  joke or something and let her go."

"Superman is already getting the money. It will only be a couple  more days. The guy who sent this to you..." He gestured to the  crumpled up photo. "...he's not with the police. He's just  guessing that a doctor might have treated her. It's nothing to  worry about.."

"I don't like it, Dimitri."

"Just two more days - and this town will have the best clinic  you've ever seen. You do want that, don't you? Or do you want to  continue to see our children die because you don't have the  proper drugs or equipment?"

"Of course I don't want that. It's just..." He let out a breath  and looked at the house.

"Relax, Jean. Just ignore the fax. By the time they are able to  check it out further, this will all be over." Dimitri stuck the  balled up picture back in the doctor's hand.

Jean closed his eyes and, after a long moment, nodded. "Two  days," he finally said before, with a last look at the house,  turning and walking away.

* * * * * * * * *

"So what was that about?" asked Lois casually when Dimitri  entered the house, wiping the clay off his feet.

"What was what about?"

"Why did the doctor need to talk to you alone?"

"Oh... well, he was just wanting to make sure that I knew how to  take care of you."

"And why couldn't he say that in front of me - it's not as if I'd  even be able to understand him, after all?"

Dimitri shrugged. "You know the doctor."

"No. As a matter of fact, I don't know the doctor," Lois snapped.  There was something he wasn't telling her. "Is there some problem  with me that he doesn't want me to know about? Are you trying to  protect me or something?"

"I don't know..."

"You're not telling me everything. I can feel it. So what did the  doctor really have to say to you?"

"You're acting crazy. You're fine. He was just making sure I knew  how important it is that you not over-exert yourself." He walked  closer, snuffing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

Lois, distracted by the small stream of smoke still rising from  the partially extinguished cigarette, didn't respond again before  Dimitri turned and headed for the washroom. Lois narrowed her  eyes as she watched him go. He was lying. She knew it. But about  what?

Unable to stand the smell emanating from the cigarette for a  moment longer, she reached over and using only two fingers, put  it out before looking back at where she'd last seen Dimitri. How  could she find out what he was not telling her? It wasn't as if  she could walk over to the doctor's office by herself to get a  look at the paper Dimitri had crinkled up. She let out a breath  of frustration. If only she were feeling better... Well, in a few  days she would be, assuming that Dimitri was telling the truth  about that, and then she was going to find out what was going on.  Something felt strangely familiar about the idea of digging  around to find answers.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark was quite proud of his achievement when he returned to his  apartment and spun back into his Clark clothes. He had what he  estimated to be about five thousand carats in diamonds. He sat  down on his couch and, after reading a number of books that he'd  borrowed from the library to refresh his memory, began using his  laser vision to cut the diamonds. The first couple cracked. But  it didn't take long for him to catch on. Given the degree of  difficulty involved, he was glad now that years ago, when he'd  first found the rich treasure stowed safe inside the earth, he'd  taken the time to learn how to cut diamonds. After all, uncut  diamonds were worth substantially less than cut diamonds. Of  course, being able to see the fault lines in the stones and  having such precise control of the laser being used to cut them  was a definite advantage. Once they were cut, he quickly ran his  hands back and forth over the surfaces to polish them.

To his untrained eye, the diamonds appeared to have good clarity  and color. Now all he needed to do was to wait for the diamond  dealer he had called earlier to see if his assessment of the  number of diamonds he would need to fulfil the kidnappers demand  was correct.

He was astounded to realize how easy it was for him to come up  with such a huge amount of money in only a matter of hours. His  name was still on the claim so if in the future he needed more  money, he supposed returning there would always be an option. He  could be richer than Luthor if he wanted to be. There was  something strangely satisfying about that thought.

Not that he liked using his powers to make money. It felt a  little like cheating, somehow. Still, in an emergency, it was  good to know that resource was there.

He heard a knock on the door just as he finished cutting the last  diamond. For some reason, this particular diamond had come out  especially nice. He was still holding it when he answered the  door.

Outside the door was an older gentleman, very distinguished. He  was wearing a long, black top coat over a black suit. On his head  was a black hat. His hair was neatly trimmed and he had a full  salt and pepper beard. Clark smiled when he saw his friend. They  had met a couple months ago when Clark had covered a story about  a gang of teenagers who were hassling religious Jews in  Metropolis. Clark had immediately taken a liking to the older man  - and that respect had been returned when Clark not only broke  the story, but got the police to prosecute the individuals  involved.

"Moishe Weissman," Clark said, opening the door a little wider.  "So good of you to come here. I could have come to your place of  business."

"Nonsense, my boy. I'm glad to be here. So what is it that you  have for me? Uhh..." he continued when he saw the diamond Clark  was holding. "May I?" He held his hand out. Clark immediately  placed the diamond in it. Weissman removed an eye piece from his  inside pocket and studied the rock with a practiced eye.  "Excellent color and clarity. A little more than two carats, I  would say. Beautifully cut. May I ask who did it?"

"Superman," Clark replied.

"Superman?" Weissman responded, his eyebrows going up even as he  handed the diamond back to Clark.

"Just because of the situation in which we found ourselves."

"Uhh... yes. You mentioned some sort of emergency. I must  confess, I don't get a lot of diamond emergencies - except for  people trying to sell them in a hurry, of course. So what is this  emergency?"

"I need to sell these diamonds in a hurry," Clark said, gesturing  to the diamonds littering his coffee table. "My partner at the  Daily Planet, Lois Lane, has been kidnapped. I have to come up  with fifty million dollars by tomorrow. So Superman obtained  these. We were hoping there might be enough here for us to  convince you to buy them for fifty million - assuming you can  come up with the money that quickly."

"I can," Weissman said absently. "And if the quality of the  diamond you have there is any indication..." He gestured to  Clark's hand while his eyes remained focused on the table.  "...I'd say you have more than enough diamonds to warrant a fifty  million-dollar pay out." He made his way over to the coffee table  before looking back at Clark. "May I?"

"Certainly," said Clark, gesturing to the diamonds.

Clark closed the door before joining the diamond dealer in the  living room. As Weissman removed his coat, Clark could see the  tassels of his prayer shawl poking out below the waistcoat of his  perfectly tailored suit. And the removal of his hat revealed the  existence of his kippah or skullcap. Clark had to admit he'd  always felt a lot of respect for anyone who lived his beliefs. He  watched in fascination as the older gentleman pulled a notebook  out of his inside pocket and, after examining each diamond  carefully, would write something in that book.

Weissman didn't say another word until he'd finished his  examination of the merchandise. "You tell Superman that he can  have a job cutting diamonds for me anytime," Weissman said,  rising from the sofa.

Clark chuckled. "I'll be sure to let him know. So what do you  think? Is it worth fifty million dollars?"

"More. I'd give you eighty-five million for the bunch - and still  stand to make a pretty profit for myself." He gestured to the  diamond Clark was still holding. "And I'll even let you keep that  one - put it in a beautiful setting for you, too."

"Oh," Clark glanced down at the diamond he was still absently  playing with. "I'd forgotten I was holding this." He went to set  it down.

"No. No. That one has obviously adopted you. Either you can keep  it or give it to someone you love, perhaps?"

Clark looked down at the diamond. "Perhaps."

"Ahh... I thought so. Diamonds don't usually adopt someone unless  they are needed for love."

Clark blushed, giving his head a shake as he tried to get his  mind back on track. "Well, all I need is the fifty million. You  can keep the rest."

Weissman raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'll take them off your  hands whenever you want. But might I make a suggestion - although  I'll be losing millions as a result?"

"What's that?"

"You might see if the kidnapper will agree to be paid in  diamonds. The diamond community is small. If someone tries to  move this quantity of diamonds, it will be easier to track him  down after the exchange is made."

Clark smiled. He really liked this man. "Good plan. But..." He  reached over and picked up one of the larger diamonds. "For your  time."

"Nonsense," said Weissman. "But... I will take that one for you."  He gestured to the one in Clark's hand. "I'll turn it into the  most beautiful ring you've ever seen. She will marry you just to  be able to wear this ring."

"Who said anything about marriage?"

"The diamond always knows," Weissman responded.

Clark placed the diamond in the man's hand. Weissman picked up  his coat and walked towards the door before turning back to  Clark. "You let me know if you want the cash or if you persuade  the kidnapper to take the diamonds. I'll proceed to assemble  eighty-five million in case you need it."

"Make it fifty million and you've got a deal," said Clark. "I  wouldn't know what to do with that much money - neither would  Superman. And I have no intention of giving anything to the  kidnappers that I don't have to."

Weissman chuckled. "Fifty million then. But the Superman  Foundation will be receiving a very generous anonymous donation.  As I said before, you need to try to convince the kidnapper to  take diamonds. I promise you I'll make sure he isn't able to cash  these in..." He gestured to the diamonds on the table.  "...without my knowing about it."

"How will you know it's these diamonds?"

Weissman chuckled. "I'll know." Weissman's expression suddenly  became much more serious. "And I'll say a prayer for your friend  tonight - that the One who sees everything will watch over her  and bring her home safe."

Clark's eyes became moist. "Thanks," he said softly.

Weissman gave a small nod before turning to leave Clark's  apartment.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 15

"I need to go out for a while," said Dimitri. "Will you be okay  here alone?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be fine," Lois responded. In truth, she was  relieved at the prospect that he would be gone for a while. "I've  got my magazine here." She held up the latest copy of 'People  Magazine.'

He'd told her that it was her favorite thing to read. She'd  flipped through the articles, but had been unable to get into it.  For some reason, she just couldn't understand why she found the  lives of movie stars so fascinating. It baffled her, however,  that she still knew who Mel Gibson was - even when she only knew  her own name because Dimitri had told it to her. How was that  possible? It was somewhat disturbing to think that her life  seemed to revolve around what to her way of thinking - at least  at the moment - were such trivial matters. In her mind, she was  some great crusader for truth, justice and the American way. For  some reason she couldn't quite place, that phrase seemed so  familiar to her.

"Very good," said Dimitri. "If you feel up to it, you could try  making supper. You always say cooking relaxes you."

Lois looked towards the kitchen, crinkling her eyebrows in  confusion. "I do?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely. Whenever you aren't feeling well, I'll  return home to find you cooking up a storm. Of course, if you're  not up to it, don't worry about it. I'll find something for us  when I get home."

Lois nodded distractedly. "What do I cook?"

"You do great with everything."

"Oh. Umm... okay. Maybe I'll give it a try."

Dimitri smiled before turning to head out the door.

Lois stared into the kitchen area from where she was seated on  the couch. She had absolutely no memory of cooking. Slowly, she  rose to her feet and made her way into the kitchen. Dimitri said  that cooking always relaxed her. So maybe she should try it.  After all, she could use some relaxing.

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor hung up the phone and pursed his fingers together. Ray,  the temp worker he'd placed inside the Daily Planet, had just  informed him that White and Kent, with the help of that kid... he  couldn't remember his name. ... were doing the legwork for  Superman - helping him with his quest to find Lois Lane. If  Luthor hadn't wanted Kent to find her, he was even less  enthusiastic about the idea of Superman finding her.

The problem was that since he'd left the Daily Planet the  previous day, he'd been probing all the dark places of Metropolis  to find a lead. But whoever had kidnapped Lois was flying below  the radar. That told him there weren't many people involved.  Otherwise, by now someone would have talked.

Ray had also informed Luthor that the Daily Planet had received  some sort of proof that Lois was still alive. Luthor gave a small  'hmph.' Nice of them to let him know. So... how should he handle  the situation?

After a moment, he buzzed his secretary. "Get me Perry White at  the Daily Planet."

Less than a minute later, his secretary's voice echoed through  the office. "Mr. White on line two."

Luthor picked up the phone. "Perry."

"Hello, Lex. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you know yet whether Lois is alive."

"Yes. Sorry. I really should have let you know. Apparently, the  kidnapper is wanting fifty million dollars to return Lois alive."

"Fine. I'll make arrangements to get the money right away. Where  does he want it dropped?"

"We don't know that, Lex. But..."

"What?"

"Well, Superman said he'd take care of coming up with the money.  So as nice as it is for you to offer, you really need to talk to  Superman about it. When I see him next, I'll let him know about  your offer."

Luthor gritted his teeth. "Fine. I'll make the arrangements -  just in case. And, Perry, in the future, I'd really appreciate  knowing when you get information about Lois."

"I'll be sure to add you to my list."

Luthor glared at the phone for a long moment after he and Perry  said their goodbyes. Superman. Some day in the very near future,  Luthor intended to swat that very annoying fly.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri rushed into his house, wondering what could possibly have  happened. He choked slightly, making his way through the smoke- filled rooms to discover Lois, the window open, waving a tea- towel frantically, trying to direct the smoke towards the window.

"I'm not feeling very relaxed," Lois mumbled without turning to  look at him.

"What happened?"

"What do you think happened? I can't remember how to cook," she  snapped. "Who forgets how to cook? I remember Mel Gibson - but I  can't remember how to cook spaghetti. I suspect everyone knows  how to cook spaghetti. I must have been a really good cook, too.  After all, I searched everywhere and I couldn't find a single  recipe. I must have cooked everything from memory. Well, that's  just great! I don't have a memory. Of course, that doesn't keep  me from remembering Mel Gibson. Now granted, he's cute enough,  but of no relevance to my life. So why do I remember him and  forget how to cook? Would you at least tell me that?

"I did find one thing, however," Lois continued, hardly taking a  breath. "That," she said, pointing to a paper that was lying on  the counter. When she'd seen it, she'd been stunned. It was a  reservation at the honeymoon suite at the Lexor Hotel in  Metropolis. It was covered with water stains and blood. And much  of the writing was obscured. But she could clearly see the name  'Lois,' although her last name and Dimitri's name were illegible.  It confirmed in Lois' mind what Dimitri had told her. She wished  she didn't find that thought so disturbing. "Why did you keep  that? It's morbid. It's gross. I just about passed out when I saw  the blood on..."

She gasped when Dimitri grabbed her, attempting to cut off her  words with a kiss. She automatically pushed him away, shoving  against his chest as hard as she could.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she asked, running the back  of her hand across her mouth without bothering to consider how  her husband might interpret the gesture. She was too miserable at  the moment to care.

"Relax," he said, refusing to be put off by her rejection and  instead pulling her back into his arms. "I was just trying to get  you to quit babbling. Even if you don't remember cooking, I can  remember another room where you perform quite well." He rocked  his body against hers.

Lois felt her stomach lurch and pulled herself out of his arms.  "I'm still not feeling well enough for something like..." She  gestured her arms wildly towards the bedroom.

"Maybe you will be later," he said. Before she could assure him  that she wasn't expecting to be ready for something like that at  any time in the foreseeable future, he continued. "Why don't you  go back to your magazine? I'll find something for us to eat."

Lois let out a breath before heading into the living room. He'd  brought up a very good point - in his barbaric way. Sleeping  arrangements for tonight. She'd explored the small house and  other than the double bed in the bedroom, there were no other  beds in the house. How was she to convince him that he should  sleep on the lumpy couch - or that she would? And what happened  in the event she never remembered what she'd apparently felt for  him at one time? Could she really fulfill her marital obligations  with this man?

* * * * * * * * *

Clark made his way directly towards Perry's office the instant he  entered the newsroom. "Any news?" he asked.

Perry looked up from his notes. "Still working on it. I've  contacted every clinic in the state. And I've started contacting  clinics and hospitals in the surrounding states. But..." He made  an expansive gesture with his hands. "How about you?"

"I checked out every clinic and hospital in Metropolis," Clark  said, taking a seat.

"And..."

"Same as you. Nothing. Who knows? Maybe we were wrong about the  picture being taken in a clinic. I do have a little bit of good  news, however. Superman told me he has managed to come up with  the fifty million dollars. But... well, it's in diamonds. A  diamond dealer I know will exchange the diamonds for the money we  need. But he suggested Superman try to convince the kidnapper to  take diamonds instead."

"Why's that?"

"Because they're easier to trace."

Perry nodded his head in approval.

"What about Jimmy? Is he still here?"

Perry pointed towards the conference room. Clark rose to his feet  and looked through the window in Perry's office. He gave a small  smile. Jimmy was sitting in the conference room, his head on the  desk, obviously sound asleep. "Did he find anything before he  passed out?"

"He was still running the program. He did say, however, that if  we could find some way to narrow the area down, it would speed  things up considerably."

"Such as?" asked Clark, sitting back down.

Perry shrugged. "Anyway, you should get home and get some sleep.  Something tells me that tomorrow is going to be another long  day."

"You should, too."

In spite of the words, the two men continued to sit in Perry's  office in silence, neither quite willing to admit that there was  nothing else they could do before the next morning.

* * * * * * * * *

Pascal made his way into the darkened bar. After delivering the  envelope to the Daily Planet, Dimitri had suggested he remain in  the city - just in case they needed him there. He'd spent the  majority of the day in his grungy motel room. But tonight, the  bright lights of the city beckoned to the country boy.

He smiled as he took a seat at the bar and looked around. Booze.  Loud music. Low lights. Beautiful women. What else could a man  ask for? He reached over and grabbed a handful of peanuts,  popping one in his mouth. He had the whole night in the big city.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew the wad of bills Dimitri  had given him. Slapping one down on the bar, he ordered a drink.  Soon they would all be rich. What damage could it do to start  celebrating their good fortune?

* * * * * * * * *

Lois lay as close to her own side of the bed as she could get.  Her plan to ask Dimitri to sleep on the couch had taken a turn  for the worse - primarily because she'd never even asked him.  After what had happened as bedtime approached, she hadn't had the  nerve. Fortunately, he was snoring now. She was grateful that he  was asleep.

Part of her was confused by her passiveness. She had the feeling  she was more assertive than this under normal circumstances. She  wasn't entirely sure why she had that impression. But in this  situation, she already felt so vulnerable. Not knowing who she  was made every experience, every situation somewhat frightening.  She was afraid of offending Dimitri too much. After all, what  would she do if he threw her out? Where would she go? From the  look of things, it wasn't as if she had any money for a motel -  or any friends, for that matter. At least no one had been to  visit her in the past two days - except Dimitri.

Her mind drifted back to the 'incident' as they had begun getting  ready for bed. She'd searched closets and drawers earlier and had  found there items of clothing for a woman. None of it seemed  familiar. Still, the clothes seemed to fit all right. But it  wasn't until she'd come into the bedroom to get ready for bed  that she'd noticed that the only nightwear she seemed to own was  more than a little revealing. She'd finally found a big shirt and  a pair of shorts to sleep in. She'd noticed Dimitri's  disapproving look the instant he came into the room.

She drew in a long, slow breath. That was when things had gone  from bad to worse. She'd been trying to figure out how to bring  up the issue of sleeping arrangements when he'd come up behind  her. She still shuddered recalling the feel of his hands on her  body. When she'd tried to put him off, he'd become insistent and  for a time, she'd almost thought she was going to be raped.

At first, she tried to be gentle - not wanting to offend him or  hurt his feelings. But when she found herself sprawled across the  bed, his hand seeking entrance inside her shorts, she'd finally  decided that talk wasn't working and used force to get him off  her, stopping short of kneeing him in the groin - although, to be  honest, the thought had crossed her mind. When he'd reminded her  that they were newlyweds, she'd reminded him that the doctor had  insisted she take things easy for a time.

The look she'd seen in his eyes had been nothing short of  controlled anger - as if he were barely on the edge of being able  to stop himself from forcing her against her will. If she'd had  anywhere else to go, she'd have been gone. Instead, he was the  one who had left the room, heading towards the washroom.

She'd crawled nervously into bed, fighting the urge to burst into  tears. She wasn't sure she'd ever been so frightened. A few  minutes later the sounds coming from the washroom made it  abundantly clear to Lois what he was doing in there. It amazed  her she should recognize such noises when she couldn't even  remember her own name. Still, she'd been relieved. Perhaps if he  worked out his... frustrations, he wouldn't be a threat to her  for the rest of the night. When he'd returned to the room and  crawled into bed, she'd pretended to be sleeping.

But she hadn't been sleeping. She still wasn't - hours later.  Instead she was lying in the dark of the room, staring absently  at the shadows and listening to the snoring behind her.

She couldn't continue on like this. She knew that. She had to get  back some memory of her life. And there was only one way to do  that. She had to do some digging around. She wondered why that  thought felt so familiar. Maybe she was a cat burglar in her  former life.

She took a look over his shoulder at the sleeping man, as she  decided whether or not to get out of bed and begin her search  now. After a moment, she decided against it. She was simply too  tired. Still, simply the thought of starting an investigation  tomorrow made her feel more empowered.

She lay in bed for long time before reaching another decision -  as soon as she was strong enough, she would leave Dimitri. Maybe  when her memory came back, she'd realize why she had married him.  But until then... She shuddered. In truth, there was something  about him, a look she would see in his eyes on occasion, that  scared her.

What that meant was that she needed her sleep. She needed to  regain her strength quickly. Maybe she could be out of there  within the next couple of days. Where she would go, she didn't  know. But she had to believe that this nightmare would not last  forever.

Having settled matters in her own mind, she closed her eyes. As  she drifted off to sleep she got the strangest feeling someone  was looking out for her. It was a nice feeling.

* * * * * * * * *

Pascal laughed loudly as he pounded the back of one of his many  newfound friends. It wasn't the amount of money he was paying out  to buy drinks. These men really liked him. Had he known how much  fun Metropolis was, he'd have left Isle d'Or years ago. Okay,  well given his age, maybe a year or two ago.

"More drinks for my friends," Pascal called in a drunken slur. A  cheer rose up from those at the table in response to his  announcement.

"So tell me," said Rob, the man whose back Pascal had been  pounding. "How did you come by so much money? You the bastard kid  of some millionaire who wants to keep your existence from  becoming known or something?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" asked Pascal.

The five men at the table leaned closer.

"Of course. If you can't trust the people you drink with, who can  you trust?" asked Rob. All those at the table nodded solemnly.

"We've made Superman our bitch," Pascal confided.

"Superman." Rob practically spat the word. "Because of him a  friend of mine is dead. I hate Superman."

"Who doesn't?" asked Pascal. "But I don't have to love him to  take his money."

"Oh, and how are you going to do that?"

"My brothers and I have something he wants. He'll give us  anything we want to get it back." He nodded knowingly at the  other occupants of the table.

"Well, just be careful," said Rob. "My friend, Jason Trask, tried  to take on Superman and he's currently worm food."

"That's horrible," said Pascal sympathetically. "Maybe after we  have what we need from Superman, we can kill him. I'll talk to my  brothers."

"Well, if you want to kill him, you'll need this." Rob withdrew a  small green crystal from his pocket. "My friend said this rock  would do the trick."

"Then why did he die?" asked Pascal, taking the rock and turning  it over in his hands.

"Some of Superman's friends stepped in and did the dirty work.  You know, that's what I hate the most about Superman. He pretends  he's the great white hope, won't hurt a fly, and then he gets  others to kill for him."

"Yeah, well, your friend can rest in peace now," Pascal said,  holding up the crystal. "Cause this time Superman's not getting  away."

Part 16

* * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY * * * * * * * * *

"What are you doing back here?" demanded Dimitri in French when  his younger brother headed across the yard towards him. "I  thought I told you to stay in Metropolis in case I need you  there."

"I ran into someone who might be able to help us."

"We don't need any help."

Pascal shrugged. "Maybe not. But..." He reached into his pocket  and withdrew a small green crystal. "It can't hurt to be sure. My  friend told me that this rock will kill Superman. Take it." He  handed the rock to Dimitri. "Just in case Superman tries  anything."

Dimitri studied the crystal for a moment before shoving it in his  pocket. It couldn't hurt to have it - even if Dimitri doubted the  rock was anything more than a flashy crystal. On the other hand,  even they could use a good luck charm.

* * * * * * * * *

"You're sure he said he had something Superman wanted?" Nigel  stood in the now empty bar, the last survivors of the previous  night's party having been successfully 'escorted' beyond the  doors of the establishment. Still, the smell lingered. The stale  booze and body odor were slightly offensive to Nigel's  sensibilities. But he'd learned long ago that some of the best  tips were to be found in some of the worst places. And when he'd  heard a rumor that a man had been in this establishment the  previous night bragging about how he was going to get a large  quantity of money from Superman, he'd known he was hard on the  heals of the kidnapper.

"Yeah," the bartender said.

"Something he'd give anything to get back?"

The bartender nodded.   "What was his name?"

The bartender shook his head. "I don't think I heard it. But two  of our regulars, Sean Richards and Robert Baig, spent most of the  evening drinking his drinks. You might try talking to them. They  should know more."

"Do you have addresses for Richards and Baig?"

"Yeah. Sure." The bartender pulled a pad of paper from behind the  bar and wrote on it. Tearing the paper off the pad, he handed it  to Nigel who studied it for a minute.

"I'd ask that you not give this information to anyone else."

"No problem." The bartender held out his hand.

Understanding the hint, Nigel reached into his pocket, pulling  out two hundred dollar bills and stuffing them in the  outstretched hand. This man's information followed by his silence  was easily worth a couple hundred dollars. His boss would be  pleased. They had the first real lead on finding Lois Lane. And  he'd insured that neither Clark Kent nor Superman would receive  this information - at least not from this particular bartender.

* * * * * * * * *

The tension in Perry's office was almost palpable as he and Jimmy  waited with Superman for the phone to ring. No one said a word as  ten became five after, six after, seven after, eight after... The  sudden ringing of the phone caused all three men to jump.

"Yes."

"I trust you've got the money."

"I've got fifty million in diamonds. Will that do?"

There was a moment of silence during which Superman held his  breath. If he could convince the man to take the diamonds,  finding him afterwards would be easier. "Diamonds will be a lot  easier for you to carry."

"I expected better of you. I expected you to do what you were  told. For all I know, you've got a bunch of pretty pieces of  glass. Maybe I should just cut my losses now and..."

"No! I can exchange the diamonds and have your money in no time."

"Well..."

"Look, you'll get your money. All I care about is Lois. As long  as you don't hurt her, in any way, I'll play this your way."

"Well, that's more like it. Okay, exchange the diamonds. Make  sure the bills are not sequential. Then divide it up into five  equal amounts. I'll call again tonight at ten with instructions  for where to drop it off. And if I get one hint of cops, your  girlfriend dies."

"I need to talk to her."

"I'll call you again tonight."

"Wait..." Superman closed his eyes when the phone line went dead.  When he finally opened his eyes, Jimmy and Perry were looking at  him expectantly. "There was something about the call... something  that seemed... odd."

"What?"

Superman was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out what  it was, what was just on the edge of his brain. When he realized  what he'd noticed - or, more accurately, hadn't noticed - during  the call, he thought back to his previous calls from the  kidnapper. His eyes met Perry's. "When I talk to the kidnapper...  I just realized that I never hear any noise in the background."

"Maybe he's in a house," suggested Jimmy.

Superman shook his head. "That's not it. With my hearing, I  should be picking up background noise. Traffic or people in an  adjoining apartment or... something. But I don't."

"What does that mean?" asked Jimmy.

Perry was the one who answered. "They aren't in the city."

Superman nodded.

Suddenly, the phone on Perry's desk buzzed. "Yes?" asked Perry.

"There's a call for Jimmy Olsen on line two."

"We're talking at the moment."

"They said it was important."

Perry looked at Jimmy.

"I'll take it out there," Jimmy said, heading into the bullpen.

"Where's Clark?" asked Superman, knowing exactly what Perry would  say.

"He called first thing this morning. He's out talking to his  sources, hoping that someone might have heard talk on the streets  about Lois' kidnapping."

"Good plan," said Superman. He hesitated for a moment. "There's  something I've been wanting to discuss with you without Jimmy  here."

"What's that?" Perry asked.

"I'm afraid that once I deliver the money, the kidnapper will  kill Lois. After all, from that picture the kidnapper sent, it  seems as if Lois has seen his face."

Perry nodded. "When you're up to your neck in alligators,  sometimes it's hard to remember that your initial objective was  to drain the swamp."

"In other words...?"

"Keep your eye on the goal."

Superman nodded. "To get Lois back. And that means I need to buy  us enough time to find her. Maybe tell the kidnapper that I  refuse to cooperate further until he lets me talk to Lois."

Perry nodded. "It won't be easy, son. After all, the temptation  will be to just give in if he isn't inclined to grant your  demand."

"But we need the time," Superman said. He nodded slightly. He  couldn't say he was looking forward to trying to talk the man  into letting him speak to Lois. But Perry was right. They needed  all the time they could get. And to that end... "I think I'll  take to the skies for a while - see if I can find anything."

* * * * * * * * *

Superman was just leaving as Jimmy hung up the phone.  "Superman..." Jimmy called. But the superhero must have been too  far away to hear him. Fortunately, at that moment, Clark entered  the newsroom. "I've got a lead on Lois," said Jimmy across the  din of the newsroom, causing Clark to gesture him in the  direction of Perry's office.

"You can't yell out information in the newsroom," said Clark once  Jimmy had entered the chief's office. "Remember the police? We  don't know if we can trust everyone here. Someone might be  working for the kidnapper."

Jimmy cringed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Hey, I'm sure it's okay," said Clark immediately, squeezing  Jimmy's shoulder to reassure his young friend. "So what did you  find out?"

"That call was from Star Labs. The red mud you found on the  envelope. Apparently, it's red clay - it's found in north eastern  New Troy where a lot of fishermen live."

"That's great!" said Clark. "Okay, let me get a map of New Troy.  You narrow your computer search to the north eastern part of the  state. Perry, while we do that, would you call Moishe Weissman?  His number is in my rolodex. He's the diamond dealer I met with.  I saw Superman just before he left. He said we needed to exchange  the diamonds. Moishe Weissman told me he'd do that."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was feeling re-energized. Getting out of bed this morning  and taking a shower by herself instead of needing Marie's  assistance had felt wonderful. She was a long way from being back  to normal. But she could now move around quite easily.

There had been a moment of anxiety when she realized that the  lock on the door to the washroom was broken. But Dimitri had  needed to go out again this morning, so she'd been okay. After  the incident the previous night, she knew she couldn't trust  Dimitri to respect her privacy.

Something was wrong with the whole situation. She just wished she  could remember enough to figure out the problem. She might be  tempted to think he was lying about everything - even being her  husband. But there were three things wrong with that theory.

First, there was the doctor. If she went on her instincts, and  without her memory that was just about all she had to go on, she  had to say that she thought he was a good man. And, by his  conduct, he was certainly supporting the idea that Dimitri was  her husband.

Second, she couldn't think of a single reason anyone would lie  about being her husband. It didn't seem she was an heiress with a  lot of money. She had no expensive clothes or jewelry. No, there  was no reason she could imagine for someone pretending to be her  husband.

Finally, there was the reservation to the honeymoon suite at some  swanky hotel in Metropolis she'd found the previous day. It  certainly seemed to confirm what Dimitri had told her.

There was one thing she was having a lot of problems with,  however. Apparently, she was living in a town where the vast  majority of the population did not speak English. And yet she had  never learned to speak French. How was that possible? She  supposed she might have only recently moved there. Maybe only a  little while before she had married Dimitri. That might explain  why she didn't seem to have any friends either.

Still, even if Dimitri was her husband, she was getting less and  less comfortable being in the same house with him. She just  needed to find a way to leave him. If only she could talk to the  doctor without having Dimitri translate for her, maybe she could  ask him about shelters or... well, anything that would allow her  to say goodbye to Dimitri.

Goodbye. She blinked when, in her mind, she found herself sitting  at a desk. The man whose kiss had tasted like coffee with a trace  of chocolate was saying goodbye. She felt a sharp pain in her  chest as the reality set in. It made no sense. Why was he leaving  her? She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. He shifted a  box he was carrying to lean over. Cupping her cheek, his lips  briefly brushed over hers. When he straightened up, she could see  the same sense of loss in his eyes that she was feeling. Without  another word, he turned away from her. 'Clark.' She fought back a  sob as she said his name while he walked away.

She blinked. His name was Clark. And he had left her. She closed  her eyes against the pain. It amazed her that although she could  remember nothing about this man, other than two very different  kisses, she knew his leaving had hurt her terribly.

She wandered over to a chair and sat down. How could he have left  her? What had she done to drive him off? She had seen the pain  his goodbye had caused him. Surely if they had felt that strongly  for each other they could have worked it out. Why hadn't she been  able to make him see that?

Clark. His name was Clark. But Clark what? What was his last  name? Maybe if she could remember that, she could find him,  persuade him to help her now.

Had he been married? Maybe. Maybe that was why he'd left. Or  maybe he was a prince and he was committed to marry a princess  from a foreign land in order to secure treaties. She gave her  head a shake. Now she was just being ridiculous. Maybe he was  from a rich family and for some reason they had disapproved of  her, leaving him with a choice between her and his inheritance.

What was the point of this? The reasons he had left weren't  particularly relevant right now. She needed to remember his last  name. If only she could do that, she could contact him, ask him  for his help. She was certain if she could just find him, he  would help her. She wasn't sure how she knew it. But there was no  doubt in her mind that he would.

* * * * * * * * *

"I think that's it," said Jimmy, staring at the computer screen  in complete disbelief. He and Clark had been trapped in the  conference room running this program for the past couple of  hours.

Clark scrambled over, staring at the picture on the screen. "Are  you sure?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No. I'm not sure."

"Okay, well, where is that?"

"It says... Isle d'Or." He turned to Clark. "Do you see it on the  map?"

Clark studied the map for a moment before spotting a small island  just off the shore in the northern part of the state. Isle d'Or.  He rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"To check out Isle d'Or," Clark said, heading towards the door to  the conference room. Isle d'Or. The kidnapper had a French  accent. It had to be. He stopped when he saw Perry standing in  the doorway.

"You found something?" Perry asked.

"A lead. It seems the picture of Lois might have been taken on  Isle d'Or. I'm going to check it out."

"Don't you think you should contact the police?" asked Perry. "If  Lois is being held hostage there, the police..."

"Will go storming in like a hurricane - perhaps getting Lois  killed in the process. I'm just going to sneak onto the island,  take a look around. If I think Lois is there and I need help,  I'll call the police then. In the mean time, Perry, would you go  by my place? The diamonds are in a bag in the top drawer in the  kitchen, just to the left of the sink. When Mr. Weissman comes by  with the fifty million, divide it up into five packets of ten  million each - just in case I don't find her. Superman will need  to have that ready when the kidnapper calls back tonight."

Perry let out a breath. "At least let Superman know where you're  going."

Clark nodded before heading past Perry towards the stairway.  Perry watched him go.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" asked Jimmy.

"He's a smart, resourceful guy. And he's right. Calling the  police right now... Well, we don't even know if Lois is really  there. I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

Perry and Jimmy walked together outside the conference room.

"I just hope she's really there," said Jimmy.

Perry's only response was to nod.

* * * * * * * * *

"He didn't say where they think she is?" Luthor asked into the  phone.

"No," came the whispered response. "As I told you all he said to  Mr. White was 'I hope she's really there.' I assumed from that  that they found Lois Lane - or at least think they did. Other  than that... nothing. But I do know that Clark Kent took off out  of here as if the devil himself were following."

"And you have no idea where he was going?"

"None."

Luthor slammed down the phone without another word. Kent thought  he had found Lois Lane. Luthor couldn't let that happen. If his  source had been a little more resourceful and had followed Kent  when he left the newsroom, maybe that wouldn't be the case. So  now what did he do?

"I believe I have stumbled across some information which might be  of interest to you, sir."

Nigel's voice coming from the doorway to his office directed  Luthor's attention towards his aide. The man was smiling.

"What is it, Nigel?"

* * * * * * * * *

Part 17

Clark spun out of his Superman suit in the hills of Isle d'Or. It  had been less than a minute since he'd left from the roof of the  Daily Planet. He let out a slow breath, knowing that with the  adrenaline flowing through his system at the mere prospect of  finding Lois, he had to be careful. Any mistakes now could be  fatal - and not for him.

Heading down the dirt road towards the town, he silently debated  the best course of action. As the first houses came into view, he  reached a decision. He knew Lois had been shot. And the picture  indicated that she had been in the clinic in this particular  town. He would start there - assuming, of course, that there was  only one. On the other hand, from the air it appeared that Isle  d'Or was too small for more than one medical facility.

"Excuse me," he said when he spotted a woman heading down the  road, a young child riding on her hip. "Could you help me?"

"Je ne comprends pas l'Anglais" the woman said.

"Je comprends le francais," Clark responded, informing the woman  that he spoke French before proceeding to ask her where he might  find the clinic. She explained, using both words and hand  gestures.

"Merci," Clark said before heading in the appropriate direction.

Shortly after receiving directions from the woman, Clark found  himself standing in front of a rather rundown building - although  in truth, it was better than a lot of other buildings he'd seen  so far during his trip through Isle d'Or. But for a medical  facility... If he hadn't known he was in the State of New Troy,  he would have believed he was in a third world country.

Since arriving on Isle d'Or, he'd been wracking his brain and he  was fairly certain he'd never even known the island existed. Had  he not seen it on the map, he probably wouldn't have even  believed an island by the name of Isle d'Or was part of the State  of New Troy.

He pulled his glasses down his nose and glanced over the top,  quickly scanning the clinic for Lois. But there was no sign of  her - although he could see the hill they thought might be the  one in the picture. Taking a deep breath, he headed up the muddy  steps to the clinic. Stepping inside, he spotted an older man in  a white coat seated at a table, making some notes in a file.

"Bonjour," said Clark, assuming that the doctor, if that was who  he was, spoke French.

"Bonjour," the doctor responded, quickly closing the file and  rising to his feet. "What can I do for you?"

Since the doctor's question was in French, Clark responded in  kind. "Are you the doctor here? Or maybe there are more than  one?"

"No. It's just me. And yes. I'm Doctor Jean. So how can I help  you?"

"My name is Clark Kent. I'm looking for a friend of mine and I  have reason to think that you might have treated her at some  point during the last few days."

Clark knew he'd hit pay dirt when the doctor's heart rate hit one  hundred sixty beats per minute. The doctor quickly glanced at the  file on his desk before looking back at Clark.

"I doubt it," said the doctor, fiddling nervously with his pen.

"How can you know that without even knowing her name?"

"Umm... because I haven't treated anyone in the past few days."

"Mmm..." Clark said. "Well, would you mind looking at her  picture?" He reached into her pocket and removed a picture of  Lois, handing it to the doctor. "Her name is Lois Lane."

"I'm sorry. I've never seen her."

"I see," said Clark slowly. "Maybe my information was wrong."

"Oui. Oui. That must be it," said the doctor. "Now, if you don't  mind, I really am busy."

"But if you don't have any patients, how can you be busy?"

"Umm... paperwork," the doctor said, glancing again at the file  he'd been working on when Clark came in.

Clark noticed the gesture and lowered his glasses slightly,  examining the file. He couldn't see much but what he did see  caused his heart to skip a beat. The name on the top of the file  was Lois Lane. He looked up when the doctor stepped between him  and the file.

"Was there anything else?" asked the doctor.

"No. No. Nothing."

He couldn't help but notice the speed at which the doctor  escorted him from the clinic. He could feel the doctor's eyes  following him as he walked down the road. He waited until his  ears told him the doctor had gone back inside before dashing  between two houses and taking to the air without even taking the  time to spin into the suit. He made sure he was moving quickly  enough that, were anyone watching, they'd only see a blur. Flying  high enough that he would be no more than a speck in the sky, he  focused on the clinic, anxious to see what the doctor would do  now.

The man had treated Lois. And he probably knew exactly where she  was or what had happened to her. Clark figured his best bet,  especially if the kidnapper was holding her somewhere, was to  follow the doctor to the kidnapper, assuming he was not one and  the same. Then he would follow the kidnapper to Lois. Once he  located her, he would wait for his chance, sneak in wherever she  was being held, and free her before the kidnapper even knew what  was happening.

If his visit to the doctor caused the kidnapper to panic, putting  Lois in danger, he could always spin into the Superman suit and  put himself between her and danger - unless, of course, the  doctor simply called the kidnapper on the phone. Oh god! Why  hadn't he considered that possibility before visiting the doctor?  The sudden fear that he'd just made things so much worse didn't  abate until he saw the doctor head out of the clinic, looking  around nervously, before heading purposefully down the street in  the opposite direction to that which Clark had taken.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri opened the door, surprised when he saw the doctor  standing on the other side, a flushed expression on his face. The  man was obviously upset. Knowing there must be a problem, Dimitri  stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He reached into his  pocket, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes, figuring this was going  to take some time.

When the doctor walked a few paces away from the house, Dimitri  followed. Dr. Jean was panicking again. Maybe Dimitri should have  found a way not to have involved the man. He wasn't sure how he  could have done it, but there must have been a way. The doctor  was quickly becoming a serious liability.

"What's the matter, Dr. Jean?" Dimitri asked, lighting his  cigarette.

"There was a man at my clinic a few minutes ago. He was asking  about Lois. He said he had reason to believe that I had treated  her in the last few days."

"What was his name?"

"Umm... Clark... something. Oh. I remember. Clark Kent."

"Did he say why he thought you had treated her?"

"No. But he seemed pretty sure of himself. And he seemed really  interested in her file. It was closed, so he didn't see anything.  But I think someone must have called that number in the Daily  Planet and told them they saw Lois here. Maybe when you were  bringing her to the clinic, someone saw her. I think we have to  get out of this now."

"Where did he go after he left the clinic?"

"I don't know. Maybe he went to talk to the person who called the  Daily Planet."

"Could he have followed you here?"

"No way. I was very careful. Besides, he headed in the other  direction."

Dimitri glanced back at the house. "Just give me a minute," he  said. "Then you and I will go somewhere and decide what to do."  He dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his heel.

The doctor nodded enthusiastically, obviously anticipating that  they would come up with a plan to release Lois. Dimitri, however,  had other ideas.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois dashed back to the couch, collapsing onto the soft surface  just a second before Dimitri reentered the house. She hadn't been  able to understand what Dimitri was discussing with the doctor.  But there was no missing the mention of a Clark Kent. Could that  be her Clark - the one whose kisses she kept remembering?

She looked up from the magazine she was pretending to read when  Dimitri said her name.

"I've got to go out for a while." He made his way over to where  she was sitting. She forced herself not to flinch when he brushed  his lips over her cheek.

"That's fine. I'm sure I'll be okay on my own. I've got my  magazine, after all." She gave him a smile and then looked back  at her magazine. Letting out a breath of relief when he left the  house, she placed the magazine on the table.

Clark Kent. She rolled the name around in her mind for a moment,  trying to see if it brought back any new memories. It didn't.  Still, she liked the name. She liked the way they seemed to fit  together. It was a strong name. It was...

She glanced up again when she heard the door open. Expecting to  see Dimitri, she was stunned to see a good-looking, dark-haired  man standing in the doorway with a very strange expression on his  face.

"Can I help..."

Her voice trailed off when he strode purposely across the room  and, without explanation, pulled her from the couch and into his  arms. Using his left hand to hold her close, his right hand found  its way into the hair on the back of her head, cradling it  gently. For a moment, she was completely stunned. She was even  more surprised when she realized that his powerful body was  trembling against her. He dropped his head to bury his face in  her hair and she could hear him softly whispering her name over  and over again. She wasn't entirely sure what was happening. But  at no point did the idea of pushing him away even cross her mind.

Her hands came up to his sides as she breathed in his scent.  There was something about having this man's arms around her that  felt so right, so normal - almost as if she'd been born to be  held by these arms.

When he pulled back slightly, she felt her hands ball into his  shirt as if to prevent him from suddenly disappearing. "I thought  I'd lost you," he breathed, the emotion in his eyes and voice  touching something deep inside her.

When his hand cupped her cheek and his mouth descended on hers,  it felt entirely natural. She responded without thinking, tasting  the lingering suggestion of coffee in his kiss. She moaned, her  tongue darting out tentatively as it sought entrance into his  mouth. He groaned, allowing the intrusion as his hand left her  cheek to wrap itself around her, pulling her body powerfully and  yet gently against his. He responded to her probing tongue,  chasing it, playing with it, following it back into her mouth in  a dance which caused every nerve ending in her body to come  alive.

He was Clark. She'd known that from the instant she'd tasted  coffee in his kiss. She didn't know what had happened between  them, why he'd left her, but she knew for the first time since  regaining consciousness in a strange hospital with no idea of her  identity that she was safe and cherished and even loved. She had  no intention of letting go of that feeling any time soon. Or, for  that matter, of letting go of the man holding her in his arms.

Unlike the revulsion she'd felt at Dimitri's kiss and touch, she  couldn't seem to get close enough to her Clark. Everything about  him, about this, felt so right. Her hands slid up his chest and  around his neck so that she could play with the soft hair at the  nape of his neck as their kisses continued.

* * * * * * * * *

"So what do we do?" asked Dr. Jean.

"What do you suggest we do?" asked Dimitri. He had just finished  explaining the situation to his brothers. The look Albert gave  him told him his brother understood what the next step had to be.  After giving a brief nod, Albert left to go into the adjoining  room. Dimitri was currently waiting for him to return, being  fairly confident he knew why his brother had left. It was the  reason Dimitri had assembled his brothers at Albert's place to  give them this information, after all.

"Well, I don't know," said Dr. Jean. "Maybe we could explain to  Ms. Lane how badly the town needs financial assistance - clean  water, proper sanitation, proper medicines. Maybe once she  understands that, she'll realize why we did it. Maybe she'd even  be willing to talk to Superman to..."

His voice trailed off when Albert returned to the room, carrying  a number of rifles and handguns.

"What are you going to do with those?" asked Jean, his voice  rising in disbelief.

Dimitri took a handgun, checking the clip to ensure it was full.  "We're going to solve a problem." He slipped the gun in the front  of his trousers and picked up a shotgun.

"You're not going to kill them, are you?" the doctor asked.

"Not at the moment." Dimitri looked at his brothers. "When I  first came up with the plan to kidnap Lois Lane, I fixed up a  place in the old mine to hold her. When we find Kent, we can toss  him in there. By the time anyone realizes he's missing, we'll  have the money."

"What if he finds the woman before we find him?" asked Eugene.

"Then we toss both of them in the old mine."

"Why not just kill them both now?" asked Pascal.

"Because Superman might demand more proof that she's alive before  turning over our money," explained Dimitri. "There'll be plenty  of time to kill them later."

"What?" gasped Jean. "You can't do that. You promised me that you  wouldn't hurt..."

Dr. Jean never got a chance to finish his objection because the  butt of a shotgun in his gut caused him to double over and  something hitting the back of his head caused him to lose  consciousness, collapsing to the floor of Albert's house as if he  were a rag doll.

"What should we do with him?" asked Eugene, nudging the  unconscious man with the toe of his boot. "Should we throw him in  the mine, too?"

Dimitri studied Jean's unconscious form. "Nah. He's in this as  deep as we are. If he turns us in, he turns himself in. And he  doesn't want to go to prison any more than we do. Besides, we've  got other matters to deal with at the moment."

* * * * * * * * *

How he ended up sprawled out across the couch with Lois beneath  him, Clark had no idea. Still, that didn't stop his lips from  continuing to explore every inch of the soft skin of her neck.  Never had anything tasted so sweet.

When he'd first entered the house and seen Lois, he reacted  instinctively, taking her in his arms in order to assure himself  that she was real. It had suddenly occurred to him that he really  should let go. But when he'd moved to release her, Lois' hands  had fisted into his shirt, as if she didn't want to let go  either. And then her eyes had drifted to his mouth and he'd seen  her tongue touch her lower lip. His response had been automatic.  He'd bent his head to kiss her.

The kiss had been meant only as a sweet reassurance. How it had  gotten so out of control, he had no idea. The only thing that  persuaded him to give up his exploration of her soft skin was the  realization that he had to get Lois out of there before the  kidnapper returned. Using every ounce of self control he  possessed, he pulled back slightly.

Lois opened her eyes, staring up at him with the same dazed  expression he was sure he bore. Her hair was tousled. Her lips  were swollen from his kisses. And in the air was just a hint of a  musk which he found completely intoxicating. For a moment he was  tempted to resume his previous activities. He had to forcibly  remind himself that Lois was still in danger to keep from doing  so.

"I was terrified I'd lost you," he said. "I love you so much. And  the thought of losing you..." His voice trailed off and he broke  eye contact as tears involuntarily swelled up in his eyes.

"Hey, I'm right here." Her voice was soft. Her hand came up to  gently stroke his cheek.

He met her eyes again and smiled. Yes she was. She was right  here... in this... He crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. She was  right here. In a house. With lots of windows. Without any locks  on the doors. With no sign of the man holding her hostage. With  no restraints of any sort. Sure, they were on an island. But that  would hardly be an obstacle for someone like Lois. "But why are  you..."

Clark never got a chance to finish his sentence because at that  moment hands grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him off Lois  as unbearable pain blurred his vision, practically blinding him.  He recognized the sensation immediately. Kryptonite. He didn't  have time to wonder how the men had managed to sneak up behind  him. He didn't have the strength to react when the man spun him  around and plowed the butt of a rifle into his stomach. The only  thing he could do was to cry out in pain as he collapsed to his  knees, holding his stomach.

In the back of Clark's mind, he knew Lois was yelling. It briefly  registered that there was a struggle going on around him. But he  couldn't do anything to help her as a foot kicked up into his  face, causing his head to snap back, followed by the rest of his  body. Almost instantly everything went black.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 18

Lois found herself silently rebelling against Dimitri's iron grip  on her arm. Even so, she made no effort to escape. She couldn't -  not when the men who had come into the house with Dimitri were dragging Clark's limp body up the hillside.

The sweat was glistening on her forehead as a result, she  suspected, of the mixture of bright sunlight, the exertion of  walking up the path into the hill and her body's weakened state.  Still, her mind wasn't on her discomfort. Instead, she couldn't  get the sight of Clark's broken and bloody face out of her mind.  She suspected the moment she'd seen Dimitri's foot swing upward  into Clark's face would stay with her forever. It had happened in  what seemed like slow motion. She could still hear her own scream  echo in her ears when she'd watched his head snap back. Even now,  a shudder rippled thought her at the mere memory of that moment.

She'd watched from where she was struggling ineffectively against  the man holding her as Dimitri searched Clark's pockets, finding  only his wallet and cell phone. He had confiscated the wallet and  destroyed the cell phone by crushing it under the heal of his  boot.

At last she'd broken free of the arms holding her, rushing to  Clark's side - nothing mattering except the need to know if he  was alive. It was then that she had first seen his face. She'd  wanted to hold him, to pull him into her arms, but she had not  dared do so for fear that his neck had been broken. The only  comfort she'd found was that he still seemed to be breathing.

Arms had grabbed her once again. This time Dimitri's arms. She'd  struggled. She'd begged and pleaded to be allowed to tend to  Clark's injuries. But to no avail.

And now she was helpless to do anything but follow as he was  dragged, heedless of his injuries, up an old dirt trail leading  into the hills behind the town.

Finally, ahead of them she could see a large wooden door which  appeared to be built into the side of the hill. Before she could  seriously contemplate its purpose, the men dragging Clark dropped  him to the ground. Using the small amount of energy she had left,  she managed to break away from Dimitri to rush to Clark's side.

"Clark," she whispered, very cautiously moving his body so that  she could look at his face, desperate to assure herself that he  was still alive.

"Get to work on that door."

Lois ignored Dimitri's command to the other men as she  concentrated on her task. She almost burst into tears when she  saw the slow, but steady up and down movement of Clark's chest.  He was alive.

Her worst fear alleviated, she gently touched his face. For some  reason, his injuries didn't look as serious to her now. Although  she knew it was impossible, it almost seemed that being dragged  up a hill in the bright sunlight had done him some good. She  quickly dismissed the thought. He'd simply not been as badly  injured as she'd originally suspected.

"Okay, bring them in here."

Almost immediately following Dimitri's words, arms were grabbing  her from behind.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois fumbled around in the dark, trying to find the cot on which  she'd seen two of the men dump Clark. The cave in which she and  Clark were trapped was dark, the large wooden door blocking their  only escape route. She'd thrown her shoulder against the door  until she was certain it must be bruised. Realizing she was  getting nowhere, she directed her energy to making her way over  the uneven ground to Clark.

As she felt her way in what she thought was the appropriate  direction, Dimitri's words as he'd locked them in the cave echoed  in her mind. 'Now I have two hostages.' 'You better hope Superman  likes Kent as much as he seems to like you.' 'Don't worry. I  won't tell Superman about you making out with Kent - he might not  be willing to pay as much to get you back if he knows you're  cheating on him.' 'If I'd have known how easily you give it up,  I'd have forced the issue last night. Who knows? Maybe we'll get  another chance really soon.' The obscene gesture he made as he  said the final words left little doubt in Lois' mind as to their  meaning.

Her hands searched blindly in front of her. The cot had to be  close. If only there was some light so that she could see  something, anything. At this point, shadows would be nice. She  stifled a squeal of pain when her shins bashed against a hard  surface in the dark. She reached down, feeling the edge of the  cot. She felt her way up to the head of the cot, searching for...

Clark. Her hands felt what she realized must be his face. She ran  her hands down his face, a sticky wetness coating her fingers.  Blood. Still, her fingers continued until she found his throat.  Placing her fingers on his pulse, she held her breath until she  felt the steady beat of his heart under her fingers.

She carefully sat down on the side of the cot, hoping it was  solid enough to hold her. It seemed to be. She took a moment  trying to figure out what to do. She had to help Clark. But how?  After a moment, she undid her blouse, slipping it off and tearing  it in half so that she could use one half to wipe the blood from  his nose off his face as best she could in the dark. She  carefully removed his broken glasses, laying them to the side.  She wished she had some water.

The past half hour or so had been so confusing. From the moment  Dimitri had trapped them in this cave, she'd been having flashes  of memory. Most of the images were hard for her to get a real  grip on. Being chained to a post as Clark barged into the room.  Being thrown out of a plane. Being trapped in a small room,  struggling to breathe as something or someone burst through the  wall. Being tossed into a garbage bin by Clark. The last one was  particularly confusing. Why would Clark be tossing her into a  garbage bin?

As she sat on the edge of the cot, she was suddenly caught up in  another memory. Clark was dripping wet. Someone pulled a gun on  him while his back was turned and... bang. The mere memory caused  her to jump slightly. She focused on that memory. What had  happened? Obviously, Clark hadn't been killed. So... She could  remember an older man sinking down into the water. She'd turned  to look over her shoulder to see a young woman, gun drawn,  wearing a sheriff's uniform. The next thing she remembered was...  Holding Clark in her arms, wanting never to let go.

She let out a sharp breath. "No wonder you left me," she said to  the unconscious man, her hand gently brushing his hair off his  face. "It seems that every memory I have of us involves you being  in danger."

"It seems to me that you're in danger more often than I am," came  Clark's raspy voice.

"Clark!" Lois gasped.

"And when did I ever leave you?"

"I don't know. I just know that you did. I was sitting at a desk.  You leaned over and kissed me. Then you said goodbye and walked  away."

There was a long moment of silence.

"I'm not crazy!" Lois finally said. "It happened! I know it did!"  She had to fight the urge to stamp her foot like a child.

"I don't think you're crazy, but..." He shifted slightly,  groaning as he did so.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her defiant tone disappearing with  this reminder of his injuries.

"I feel as if I was hit in the stomach and kicked in the face.  But other than that..."

Lois relaxed. In spite of the words, a humor came through in the  way he said them that she was certain was designed to reassure  her.

"Where are we?" Clark asked.

"Oh. Right. I guess you don't remember. Dimitri locked us in an  old mining cave in the hills."

"That must be why it's so dark." He was silent for a moment. When  he next spoke, the words were accompanied by movement. "I think I  can just make out a lantern over there."

"Where?" asked Lois, looking around at her environment. She  wasn't able to see a thing.

"Over there."

"Thanks, Clark. That helps a lot," she responded sarcastically.  He was obviously pointing, but since she couldn't see his hand,  it wasn't exactly helpful.

"I'm just going to see if there are any matches," said Clark,  making an effort to get off the bed.

"No. You're too weak. You just tell me where it is and I'll  check."

She felt his hand come up to cup her cheek. Her hand  automatically covered his, feeling reassured by his gentle touch.

"Thanks for worrying. But I'm all right. I really am," he said  softly, something in his tone or his touch sending butterflies  fluttering through her stomach.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark could barely make out the shapes of the things around him  as he crossed the uneven ground of the old cave towards the  lantern. He used the opportunity to try to figure out which of  his powers he still had. Since Lois had told him she couldn't see  anything, he figured some of his visual abilities were working.  On the other hand... he tried to look through the wall of the  cave, but to no avail. Even his vision was only a shadow of its  former self.

The man... Did Lois say his name was Dimitri? ...had kryptonite.  It was probably a lucky thing the man started beating on him the  instant he'd entered the room. Otherwise, it would have seemed  strange if Clark had doubled over in pain from... nothing. At  least, nothing he could tell them about. He wasn't entirely sure  if it was the kick to the face or the kryptonite which had caused  him to pass out - although given the way his face was hurting, he  suspected it could very well be the former.

Not that it particularly mattered, of course. What mattered was  finding a way to get Lois out of there. Well, that and figuring  out why Lois hadn't tried to get away from Dimitri when she had  the chance. He suspected it was somehow connected to the comments  he'd heard her make when he'd first come to. Her words had  been... confusing. He knew the incident to which she was  referring. It had happened during the Metropolis heat wave when  all of Metropolis blamed Superman for the unusual weather. All of  Metropolis except Lois, of course. But then he hadn't been  leaving her - he'd been leaving Metropolis. And he had come back.  So what was she talking about?

He pushed that concern to the back of his mind to concentrate on  testing his powers. He tried floating. He managed to get off the  ground an inch or two, but only for a second and then he crashed  back to the floor of the cave. He directed a freezing breath at  the door. Nothing. He bent down and picked up a stone, throwing  it in the direction of the door to test his strength. It buried  itself in the door, but didn't go through.

"What was that?" asked Lois.

"I just kicked a rock," he said, trying to keep the frustration  he felt out of his voice. He had a little bit of his powers. He  should be happy not all of them were completely gone. But did he  have enough to get Lois safely out? Given that he couldn't  actually fly and didn't have his normal strength, he wasn't sure.

As he reached the lantern, he searched the area for matches. When  he had no luck, he took a deep breath. Well, nothing ventured...  He concentrated on the wick. It smoked slightly.

"Are you okay over there?" came Lois' voice, breaking his  concentration.

"Fine. I found the lantern. I'm just looking for matches." He  tried again, sighing in relief when a small flame jumped from the  end of the wick, bringing soft light and shadows to his  surroundings. Okay, so his heat vision was weak, but wasn't  completely gone. With time, he knew the remainder of his powers  would return - just as they had after his encounter with Jason  Trask. But without sunlight... He doubted he'd get them back any  time soon.

He supposed he should be astonished that he had any of his powers  at all. Maybe when he'd been brought to the cave, he'd received  some exposure to the sun. That might have helped.

"You did it," said Lois.

It suddenly occurred to Clark that he wasn't wearing his glasses.  He glanced around in panic, finally spotting the broken glasses  sitting at the head of the cot. But it was too late, Lois was on  her feet making her way towards him. His thoughts took him in a  very different direction when he realized that from the waist up  she was wearing nothing but her bra. She had a white bandage on  her chest with...

"Lois, you're bleeding!"

She glanced down at her chest, noticing fresh blood on her  bandage. "It's not that bad."

He approached her quickly, leading her over to a chair next to  the table on which the lantern was sitting. He directed her to  take a seat. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to her bandage as he  squatted in front of her.

When she nodded, he carefully removed one side of the bandage  revealing a jagged gash on the inside side of her left breast.  Clark could see fresh blood around the injury ; she'd obviously  torn out a stitch or two, probably during her struggle with the  men at the house. He cautiously touched the area around the angry  gunshot wound, being especially gentle when she flinched  slightly. His breath caught at the tangible reminder of how close  she'd come to losing her life. His heart ached for what she must  have gone through.

"Apparently, I got lucky," Lois said, as if in an attempt to  reassure him. "Doctor Jean said that he figured I was shot at  close range and that it went right through me - without hitting  anything vital. He figures I must have turned slightly at the  last moment."

He glanced up at her face. She was looking everywhere but at him.  Realizing that she was embarrassed about this blemish to her body  or perhaps by his close examination of it, he quickly returned to  his task, touching around the wound to cover up what he was  really doing - using a couple quick blasts of what still remained  of his heat vision to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.  Then he reattached the bandage and examined her back to take a  look at the exit wound under her right shoulder blade.

"It doesn't look too bad," he said, rocking back on his heals to  remove his jacket.

"What did you do?" she asked, her hand touching the bandage. "It  feels better."

"Nothing," he said, handing her his jacket, glad that he had  decided to wear jeans, a flannel shirt and his bomber jacket to  work that morning. At the time, he'd been too stressed out to  think about his wardrobe. But now, his choice of clothing seemed  more like divine intervention - giving Lois something warm to  wear that she could zip up. In the cold of the cave, he was  grateful he could at least do that much for her.

"Do you have any other injuries?"

"I was shot in the leg as well. But I think that one is okay. At  least, it hasn't been giving me as many problems as..." She  tapped her chest.

He nodded slowly. "Well, you should be okay for now. But you've  got to take it easy. What do you say that you let me fight the  bad guys in the future?"

"Good job - finding that lantern," she said, in an obvious  attempt to change the subject even as she slipped into and did up  his jacket.

He noticed a slight flush in her cheeks. He'd tried to be as  respectful as possible while tending to her wound. Still, he had  obviously embarrassed her. As a result, he didn't fight her  attempt to change the subject.

"Do you think we could use the lantern to burn down the door?"  Lois asked.

Clark shook his head. "We'd be dead of smoke inhalation long  before the door would be burned enough for us to get out."

Lois glanced around their environment, before her gaze returned  to Clark. He froze at the intense look she gave him as her hand  came up to touch his face ever so gently. He watched as her eyes  seemed to study the line of his jaw, his nose, his eyes, as if  searching for... something. He didn't dare move, waiting for the  moment she'd realize whose face she was staring into.

"I didn't do a very good job of getting the blood off your face,"  she finally said. "Still, it isn't as bad as I first thought."

He let out a breath. He had been convinced she was on the verge  of realizing his secret. But she had been examining his injuries  - the very injuries which had undoubtedly kept her from  discovering that same secret. His hand came up to his face. He  flinched when he touched his nose. He suspected it was broken. He  probably didn't bear much of a resemblance to the superhero at  the moment. In all likelihood, he wouldn't have to worry about  looking like Superman for quite some time. Not that having her  discover his secret was the worst of their problems.

"Hey, look at this," said Lois, directing Clark's attention to  the table beside them. She picked up a small flashlight. She  glanced at him before taking a deep breath and turning it on. It  worked.

"That's great," said Clark. "We might need that."

Lois nodded, turning off the light and sticking it in the pocket  of her jacket. If the lantern went out, it could prove to be very  useful.

Clark's attention shifted. He looked around their environment,  seeing the heavy door against which he had earlier attempted his  powers. Lois' gaze followed his and they both made their way over  there. He only hoped he had enough strength left to get the door  open.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 19

Clark was feeling every one of his injuries, not to mention a few  new ones, by the time he and Lois realized that they were never  going to be able to knock down the door. It had obviously been  reinforced on the outside. And he didn't have enough of his strength to make a difference.

At the back of the cave was a tunnel. They had followed it for a  couple hundred feet, but it appeared to lead further into the  mine. After a brief consultation, they had decided their best bet  was to wait for their captors to return - hoping for a chance to  either overpower them or get past them somehow. Clark had agreed,  primarily because he didn't want to drain what remained of his  energy reserves on what was likely a fool's errand. He cursed the  kryptonite. Had it not been for that confounded crystal, he could  simply become a human drill, creating a tunnel and both of them  could walk out. Of course, knocking down the door would probably  be the better option. He could do that without giving away his  powers. But then, if it hadn't been for the kryptonite, they  wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. No, his best  bet right now was to rest. After all, when their captors did  return, he was going to need every ounce of his strength to get  Lois out of there.

He lay back on the cot and closed his eyes. When he opened them  again, Lois was making her way over with a glass of water.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

"It seems Dimitri must have planned to bring me here even before  you showed up. There is some stale bread and some water on the  table where I found the flashlight. I figured I'd skip the bread  for now, but I thought you might be able to use some of this."  She handed him the glass.

He moved into a seated position before reaching for the water.

"Just a second," she said, looking around until she found what  she was looking for. He suddenly understood what must have  happened to her blouse. He supposed using her blouse to tend to  his wounds was a better explanation for her missing blouse than a  couple of the possibilities that had gone through his mind.

He watched as she dipped a clean edge of the torn shirt into the  water, before handing him the glass. He took a drink before  offering the remainder to her.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Lois." The single word seemed to catch her attention.

She hesitated for a second, her tongue lightly touching her lower  lip, before accepting the glass and taking a small sip. When she  tried to hand it back, he shook his head. She carefully set it  down, confirming his suspicions.

"We don't have much water, do we?" he asked.

Without meeting his eyes, she shook her head. "Just relax. I want  to get some of that blood off your face."

He leaned against the wall of the cave, watching her expression  thoughtfully as she concentrated on her task, touching him with  such care, flinching when he flinched. Something subtle in her  behavior seemed almost like that of a lover. His mind flashed  back to her comment when he'd first regained consciousness. What  did it all mean? He had his suspicions, but still wasn't quite  sure how it all added up. On the other hand, she hadn't been  trying to get away from Dimitri when he had first arrived.  Finally, he couldn't stand not knowing for a single moment  longer.

"Lois, what exactly do you think our relationship is?" he asked,  hoping the question didn't make him sound too crazy. If his  growing suspicions were incorrect, she could very well think he  had lost his mind. After all, he knew very well what their  relationship was - partners and sometimes friends.

"You think I'm crossing the line, don't you?" Her hand instantly  left his face. She started to get up from the side of the cot.

"No," he said, laying his hand on her arm to keep her from  escaping. She didn't think the question was crazy - so maybe  these growing suspicions weren't completely off base. "Lois, look  at me." He waited until she did before continuing. "What do you  remember about... well, us?" There. He'd asked her. And if he was  right and she'd somehow lost at least part of her memory, he  would know in a moment.

"I remember us kissing." She looked uncomfortable. "And I  remember you leaving." She hesitated for a moment. "And something  about you tossing me in a garbage bin. But that part really  doesn't make a lot of sense to me."

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Leave it to Lois to  remember that he had tossed her into a garbage bin when she  didn't have any real clue about the rest of their relationship.  When he realized she was starting to look distressed, he  struggled to get his laughter under control. As much as he might  like to let her go on believing that there was something between  them, he knew he couldn't.

"Lois, we're partners."

"Partners?"

"At the Daily Planet."

She still looked confused.

"You know," he continued. "Partners. A reporting team."

"But... No. I remember you kissing me and then leaving."

"I was planning to quit my job. I kissed you goodbye. That was  all. In the end, I didn't leave - primarily because of you."

The resulting silence was so loud it was almost deafening.

"No. That's not the only kiss I remember. We were on a plane or  something."

"It was a cover. You wanted to whisper some instructions to me so  you asked the bad guys for a final request - to kiss me goodbye.  Lois, there's nothing between us. Unless you count being  friends."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois felt tears come to her eyes. She had been in love with him.  She was certain of that. The feelings she remembered having when  they'd kissed, the pain in her heart when he'd said goodbye...  No. If there was one thing of which she was certain, it was that  she had been in love with him.

But if what he was telling her was true, and there was something  in his eyes that made her inclined to believe him, then he must  not have felt the same way, might not even have known about her  feelings for him. It was depressing to realize that the only  thing she really remembered, her grand passion for him, had been  completely unrequited. She wasn't sure why she would think he  should return her feelings. After all, he was a great looking,  courageous and caring guy, not to mention a fabulous kisser. He  could have any woman he wanted. And she was someone who obviously  spent most of her time dangling over the jaws of death. But...

"Wait a minute. When you found me, you told me you loved me."

Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. It took him a moment  to meet her eyes. "I do," he said simply. "I have ever since the  moment you first stormed into my life."

"But..."

"You've made it very clear that there would never be anything  between us."

"Why?" The question was out of her mouth before she had a chance  to think about it.

He gave her a sad smile. "You told me that you didn't have time  for it. But I've always suspected it was for a lot of reasons.  You were hurt pretty bad by a work colleague in the past. So I  think you're leery of getting involved with someone you work  with. On the other hand, it might just be that you're not  attracted to me."

"I can't believe that."

He smiled, reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear.  "Of course, there's also Superman."

Superman. Dimitri had mentioned someone named Superman - had said  he wouldn't tell Superman about her and Clark kissing. She gave  her head a shake. Superman. What an odd name. Who would give  someone a name like that?

"Who's Superman?" she asked. "Is he my boyfriend or something?"

He studied her intently. "Well, that explains a lot. Why there  were no locks on the door. Why you haven't tried to contact  anyone - not even Perry. Lois, how much do you remember about...  well, your life?"

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was silent when Clark finished filling her in on the  highlights of her life, ending with her last investigation and  the desperate search Perry, Jimmy, Superman and Clark had been on  ever since that fateful night. As he'd spoken, she'd had the  occasional flash of memory which confirmed his stories. Flying in  Superman's arms. A building exploding behind her. Accepting her  first Kerth award. Fighting with her father.

The only thing she was having problems believing was his claim  that she felt nothing more than friendship for him. But now was  not the time to concentrate on that aspect of the story. There  were other things she needed to know more.

"There's one thing I don't understand," she finally said.

"What's that?"

"Well, when did I marry Dimitri?"

Clark stared at her in disbelief for a moment before shaking his  head. "Lois, you were never married to Dimitri. Umm... did he..."  His voice trailed off, as if not certain how to ask his next  question.

"Did he...? Oh! You mean, did we..." She made an indecipherable  gesture with her hands.

Clark nodded.

"No. No. He tried. But... no. I wasn't..." Her voice trailed off  even as the color rose in her cheeks. "God, I can't believe I  fell for that."

"You can't blame yourself. I mean, you woke up with no memory.  And he took advantage of that. Why would you even question what  he was telling you?"

"But I did, Clark. I knew something wasn't right. I think... I  think it was because the doctor seemed to support what Dimitri  was telling me."

"He was involved. He's the one I followed to find you."

"That nice man..." Her voice trailed off as tears came to her  eyes. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered.

"Come here," said Clark, scooting over on the small cot to make  room for her to join him.

She looked at him for a long moment, struggling with the need to  be held and knowing that she'd feel safe in his arms, and her  fear of letting herself be vulnerable.

"You can trust me, Lois."

She met his eyes, searching them. Could she trust him? It only  took a moment for her to realize she did. Crawling onto the cot,  she curled up next to him, allowing his arms to provide her with  the warmth and comfort she needed.

"So how do we get out of here?" she finally asked.

There was a long moment of silence. "I don't know."

"Well, if Superman gives them their money, maybe they'll do what  they promised and let us go."

Clark didn't respond.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri slapped the phone shut. "Still no answer," he announced  to the men with him. He looked at the clock on the wall. Ten  thirty. "Where is he? Doesn't he care if we kill Lois Lane?"

"Are you sure the phone is working? Maybe we should try using  that Kent guy's phone."

"I destroyed it when I took it from him," said Dimitri, before  opening the phone again and listening to the dial tone. "It's  working."

"So what do we do if he doesn't answer?"

Dimitri looked at his brothers. "We show him we're men of our  word. We do what we told him we'd do if he didn't cooperate."

"Tonight?"

Dimitri took a long time to answer. Eventually, he shook his  head. "He's Superman. He could have been called away on some big  emergency. I say we wait until tomorrow. If he still isn't  answering the phone then..." He never completed the thought.  There was no need. His brothers knew what they would do in that  eventuality - kill the hostages and dispose of the bodies in such  a way that Superman could never trace them back to the Rousseau  brothers.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark couldn't get Lois' final comment out of his mind. By now,  Dimitri had undoubtedly called Superman and discovered he wasn't  answering. That meant... well, that meant they couldn't count on  the ransom being paid and hope that Dimitri intended to let them  go when it was. Not that he could tell Lois that, of course.

As he glanced down at the woman asleep against his chest,  absently watching the soft light from the lantern dance across  her face, his mind drifted back to Lois' questions about when  he'd told her he loved her. After all his regrets when he'd  believed Lois was dead, admitting he loved her had been the only  choice. He was determined that whatever happened in the future,  whatever the return of Lois' memory brought, he would not back  away from that simple statement. He would make it clear he'd  settle for her friendship and partnership, but he was no longer  content to pretend he didn't want more.

Not that the thought didn't terrify him. After all, there was no  guarantee her response would be positive. In some ways, Lois had  always reminded him of a skittish horse, bolting at the first  sign of real emotion the way a horse might bolt at the sight of a  snake. It was somewhat surprising that memoryless-Lois trusted  him enough to sleep against his chest.

His mind flashed back to the kiss... and more... they had shared  when he'd first found her. Having her in his arms, feeling her  lips and body responding to his... He wasn't sure he'd ever known  such euphoria. Getting caught up in the moment had been foolish,  of course. Because of it they were now locked in a dark cave,  waiting for their captors to return. Still, his heart couldn't  let go of the moment. He had truly believed she was responding to  Clark. He couldn't help but wonder exactly how far things might  have gone had Dimitri not returned when he had.

He pushed the thought from his mind. Still, it kept returning,  feeling her welcome arms around him, her fingers in his hair and  stroking at his shoulders, her legs entangled with his. Maybe he  shouldn't have told her they were only friends. After all, she  had seemed to be under the impression that they were... or at  least had been... a lot more than that. What might be happening  between them now if... He mentally swatted himself in the back of  the head, the way he could almost imagine his mother doing.

What mattered was to get Lois out alive. His arm tightened around  the woman sleeping in his arms. And to that end, he would do  whatever it took. On impulse, he kissed her hair. She moaned  slightly, draping a leg across his so that her knee was now  settled between his legs. Her hand moved to cup his pectoral  muscles and he had to fight the urge to groan. He firmly told his  body to behave itself, but to no avail.

"Oh, Lois. What am I going to do with you?" he breathed, resting  his cheek against the hair on the top of her head and closing his  eyes. Without sunlight, sleep was probably important if he had  any hope of getting Lois out of there when their kidnappers  realized Superman wasn't going to deliver the ransom and returned  to carry out their reprisals.

Not that the kidnappers would need to return. They could just  leave them trapped in this cave until their meager supply of  bread and water ran out. He gave his head a slight shake. No need  to borrow trouble. No matter what came next, he needed as much  strength as he could possibly get - otherwise, they didn't stand  a chance.

Part 20

* * * * * * * * * THURSDAY * * * * * * * * *

Lois woke with a start. She'd been having the weirdest dream.  She'd lost her memory, been kidnapped, tricked into thinking she  was married to some hood named Dimitri and trapped in a cave with  Clark. All she could think was that it was a good thing it was  just a... She snapped open her eyes when she realized that her  pillow was making a gentle, regular up and down motion.

"Oh, god," she groaned when she saw the shadows dancing on the  walls of the cave that was her prison. It wasn't a dream. She'd  lost her memory, been kidnapped, tricked into thinking she was  married to some hood named Dimitri and trapped in a cave with  Clark. In fact, she was currently curled up against Clark's  chest, which she was using as a pillow. Except... A slow smile  made its way across her face. Her name was Lois Lane, daughter of  Ellen and Sam Lane who had divorced years before. Her sister was  a bit of an air head named Lucy. She worked for Perry White at  the Daily Planet. And was the current holder of three Kerths. She  could even remember the crush she'd had on Martin Simpson when  she was in the third grade. He'd broken her heart when, after  pulling on her pigtails, he'd told everyone she'd given him  cooties.

Her eyes wandered up to the man in whose arms she had been  sleeping. He seemed to look a little better than the previous  night. But that was probably her mind playing tricks on her.  Still, she suspected his nose was broken. But there was not much  they could do about that at the moment.

Her mind drifted back to when she'd first seen him the previous  day. She felt an immediate rush of anger. How dare he take  advantage of her when she had amnesia? After all, there was no  way she would have responded to him the way she had if she'd been  in her right mind. He had to have known that. And yet he'd forced  himself on her, telling her he loved her. Please! She knew all  the lines. And that had to be the most overused line in the  history of seduction lines.

Except... Her anger dissipated into confusion. ...he hadn't taken  advantage of the situation. As soon as he'd realized she thought  they were... or at least had been involved, he'd corrected her.  If he hadn't... She shivered. She had no doubt, given the way she  had believed she felt about him, she would have done... well,  whatever he had wanted to do. Why had he told her he loved her  and then not taken advantage of the situation? But then, he  hadn't taken advantage of the situation when she'd been under the  influence of the pheromone compound the previous week either.  Could he really be in love with her? How was that possible when  she didn't return his feelings - had made it abundantly clear  that she would never return his feelings?

The memories of her feelings for Clark when she'd had amnesia  suddenly came flooding back. How was it that she'd been convinced  she was in love with Clark when she hadn't even been able to  remember Superman? What did that tell her? She gave her head a  shake. No. No she was not going to go anywhere near that  question. 'Remember Claude,' she told herself firmly.

"Morning."

Lois had been so lost in thought that she hadn't realized he'd  woken up.

"Morning," she responded, hoping she sounded normal.

He shifted slightly, stretching his muscles. "Wow. I can't  believe how soundly I slept - in spite of..." He gestured around  them. "...well, everything, I guess."

"You must have been tired."

"I haven't slept a lot the past few days," he responded casually,  even if she couldn't shake the hidden meaning in his words.

She tried, but was unable to maintain eye contract. Glancing down  at her hand, she watched it absently play with a button on his  shirt. When she realized what she was doing, her hand snapped  back.

"Did you get your memory back?" he asked, as if her reaction to  realizing that she was playing with his button told him all he  needed to know.

She nodded distractedly.

"That's great!" Clark exclaimed.

She looked up at him, trying to tell if he was sincere. "Are you  sure you want the real Lois Lane back? Wasn't the one throwing  herself all over you much more to your tastes?" Where had that  attitude come from? He'd done nothing to deserve that.

"I happen to think the real Lois Lane is pretty great," he  responded, his subdued tone letting Lois know she'd hurt him.

She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the apology she knew she'd  never be able to put into words. His expression softened, telling  Lois he'd understood.

"So are you really back?" he asked.

"Yeah. I woke up this morning. And I remembered everything. In  fact, at first I thought this..." She gestured around them.  "...was the dream."

"The nightmare," Clark corrected.

Nightmare? Why would he think this was a nightmare? Was it so  horrible waking up with her in his arms? Oh, right. The  kidnapping. Being trapped in a cave by a bunch of goons with guns  who were expecting Superman to pay for their ransom. She gave  herself a mental slap. She really was getting too sensitive.

"So I guess this Lois is the one who doesn't think that Clark is  so great," he said.

"I never didn't think Clark was great," she responded  immediately, in her mind not entirely sure if the number of  negatives she'd put in that sentence meant that she thought Clark  was great or not.

"Really?"

The tone in his voice informed her that yes, she'd put the right  number of negatives in that sentence.

"Yeah. You wouldn't be my friend if you weren't a pretty great  guy."

She glanced up at him when he didn't respond, looking away when  he seemed slightly disappointed. She knew what he wanted. But she  couldn't give it to him. She just couldn't. He moved slightly,  causing her gaze to again meet his. This time, their eyes locked.  Lois tried and failed to look away. As if by silent consent, they  both moved slowly closer. Her eyes wandered down his face to  focus on his lips. She pulled her bottom lip briefly into her  mouth as blood began pounding through her veins. He was going to  kiss her. And... god help her, she wanted him to. She closed her  eyes, unable to prevent a small moan from escaping the back of  her throat the moment his lips brushed over hers.

Almost as soon as it had started, the kiss ended. She adjusted  her position against his chest and, without opening her eyes,  sought out the gentle feel of his lips once again. And suddenly,  Lois was unable to remember a single reason why this was not a  good idea.

His hand had just come up to cup her cheek when sunlight suddenly  spread across the room, causing Lois and Clark to jump apart.  Lois' arms flailed as she fought to keep from falling off the  cot.

"Can't leave you two alone for a minute, can I?" asked Dimitri's  voice from the open door.

* * * * * * * * *

"So Clark didn't go home at all last night?"

Jimmy shook his head.

"Great shades of Elvis! First, Superman doesn't come by to pick  up the ransom. Then Clark gets as lost as a tick on a dog's back.  What the Sam Hill is going on here?"

"So do you think we should call the police?"

Perry hesitated. "Not yet. Like Clark said, if the police go  storming in there like locusts swarming a cornfield, the  kidnapper could panic and simply decide to kill Lois. I'm hoping  Superman and Clark haven't put in an appearance because they are  hot on Lois' trail. I think we need to give them a little more  time. After all, if Superman is involved, it's not as if they can  get hurt." Perry let out a slow breath. "Still, if we haven't  heard from them by this evening, we'll call Henderson."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois and Clark scrambled off the cot.

"Bring them out here," Dimitri ordered, walking out of the cave.

Lois and Clark glanced at each other, silently sharing their  surprise. Being taken out of the cave was their best possible  scenario. It provided a better chance to escape. Besides,  although Lois had no way to know this, with every moment Clark  spent in the sun, his powers should increase. The only thing  Clark had to be careful of was getting too close to Dimitri -  assuming Dimitri even had the kryptonite on him today. And since  Clark had not yet felt it, it was possible he did not.

Lois and Clark were not allowed to contemplate their good fortune  for long because two of the men moved to flank them, using their  shotguns to nudge them towards the entranceway.

"Maybe Superman paid the ransom and they're letting us go," Lois  whispered to him as they stepped together into the sunshine  beyond the cave.

Clark remained silent. Even if he hadn't known that was not the  case, he would have doubted the explanation. Both he and Lois had  seen the kidnappers' faces. They knew where they lived. There was  no way these men had any intention of letting them go. Clark  suspected Lois knew that as well. Still, Clark was not about to  pass up on any opportunity to soak up as much sun as possible.

They had walked down the trail leading away from the cave for  about five minutes in silence. Lois was the one who finally broke  it.

"So are you going to tell us where you're taking us?"

"Somewhere where no one, not even Superman, will ever find your  bodies." Dimitri said without missing a stride.

Lois came to an abrupt halt. "No!"

Dimitri turned then, looking at Lois with a confused expression  on his face.

"You're going to have to kill me right here - drag me down the  hill leaving my blood spread all across this forest. I'm not  taking another step."

In spite of everything, Clark couldn't help but feel pride spring  up inside him at Lois' comment. She would forever rage against  the dying of the light, as Dylan Thomas had once written.

Dimitri looked at Lois for a long moment, as if not entirely  certain what to make of Lois' refusal. Finally, he directed his  gaze to Clark. "Tell me your secret, Kent. How do you get her to  give it up to you? I was starting to think she was frigid."

A muscle twitched in Clark's jaw but didn't respond.

"What woman wouldn't be frigid with you?" Lois spat.

Clark tensed when he saw Dimitri's eyes narrow. Lois was back all  right - sarcastic comments and all. But why did she have to anger  the men with guns? He supposed she wouldn't be Lois if she  didn't.

"Yeah, well it seems Superman must not be too impressed either,"  Dimitri shot back. "He doesn't care enough about you to pay the  ransom."

"That's not true," Lois said.

Clark thought he could detect hurt in her voice.

"Superman would never let me... us down," she continued.

"No? Are you saying you have another explanation for why he  hasn't taken the call about where to deliver your ransom? You  could have been on your way home by now - if only Superman had  held up his end of the bargain."

"You're lying," Lois said. "He's probably..." Her voice trailed  off as if she couldn't find an acceptable reason for Superman to  abandon her at a time like this.

Clark closed his eyes. 'I'm right here, Lois. I won't let you  down,' he thought, silently willing her to understand that her  hero would never abandon her. What ever powers he still possessed  all belonged to Lois.

Dimitri smirked, as if he too had realized how upset Lois was.

"Well, he probably didn't answer your call because he's too busy  tracking your sorry ass down," Lois said, rallying.

Dimitri's grin faded. "You may be right. So I guess I'll have to  just get down to business. It's really too bad we don't have time  for a little fun before we do this." He lowered his shotgun until  it was focused on Lois.

"No!" Clark yelled, diving for Lois just as the gun went off.

He felt a searing pain in his shoulder, but the adrenaline  pumping through his body kept him moving. Grabbing Lois with one  arm, he snapped a branch from a nearby tree with the other,  swinging at their two escorts, sending both of them to the ground  to avoid being hit. Then, he practically dragged Lois in the only  direction he possibly could - up the hill and towards the cave.  She responded quickly, gaining her footing and running, her hand  clasped firmly in his. Clark heard shouts and shots behind them,  but didn't pause to wonder how close their captors were.

When they arrived back at the cave, Clark hesitated. There had to  be a better option, somewhere where they could hide until Dimitri  and his men gave up looking for them - or until Clark could fly  Lois out of there.

"Come on," growled Lois, pulling him into the cave before he had  a chance to object.

The sound of their pursuers running after them up the hillside  trail finally prompted Clark to pick up the pace, pulling Lois  deeper into the tunnels, with no idea where they might lead. No  matter where these tunnels went, it was better than the  alternative.

A small but steady stream of light suddenly appeared in front of  them, directing Clark's attention to the flashlight in Lois'  hand. He smiled. He'd forgotten she had found that. Given that it  was getting progressively darker, the small light was a blessing.

They kept running. One foot in front of the other. The sound of  heavy breathing the only sound other than feet hitting the  ground. Tunnels branched off and in a split second, a decision  was made to follow one or the other as they attempted to lose  their pursuers in the maze of tunnels inside the hill.

"I can't, Clark," Lois finally said. "I can't go on any more."

Without stopping, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling  her into his arms and continuing to run. He had to get her away  from those men. They could work out a plan to get out of the mine  later.

He felt Lois bury her face against his neck even as she kept the  beam of light directed in front of them. He stretched out with  his vision and realized that he could now see through things. His  vision was fuzzy, but it was an improvement over the previous  night. Maybe some time in the sun really had helped to strengthen  his powers. In fact, when he thought about it, although his  shoulder hurt, it wasn't as bad as what he figured he should feel  if he were shot. And carrying Lois... She might seem heavier than  when he was at full power. But she really wasn't slowing him  down. In fact, that might have been Lois' problem. Maybe his  running was faster than a normal human male. On the other hand,  Lois had been seriously injured recently. That would undoubtedly  play a role in her ability to keep up with him.

He came to an abrupt halt when he realized that the tunnel up  ahead was blocked.

"Clark!" Lois said, expressing in the mere utterance of his name  the concern she was feeling when he heard the distant sound of  feet behind them.

Clark looked around, concentrating all his efforts on using his  x-ray vision to find a way out. He suddenly saw one. If only they  could get through the blockage of the cave in, the tunnel  branched out and one branch headed back to the surface.

He heard shouts echo through the mine. There was no choice. He  had to try.

Clark set Lois down before rushing towards the cave-in, moving  rocks out of the way as fast as his body would allow. He was  relieved to realize that he was able to move them easier and  faster than anticipated.

Once he cleared a path for them to crawl through, he turned back  to Lois. He stopped only when he saw the stunned look on her  face.

"Okay, now that I definitely didn't remember," she said.

Still, there was no time to worry about what he'd revealed. The  voices were getting closer. Grabbing Lois, he moved them both  towards the hole. Lois scrambled through the hole first, followed  by Clark. When he got to the other side, he turned back towards  the cave-in, quickly filling up the hole he had created.

"Come on," he said, immediately heading down the tunnel he knew  led to the surface.

He heard her tentative footsteps behind him, but didn't dare look  around, hoping that if he just acted as if everything was normal,  she would dismiss what she'd seen as a trick of the eyes - or a  hallucination brought on by fear.

"Why don't you just fly us out of here?" she asked.

Clark cringed, but didn't look around at this confirmation that  she had figured out his secret.

"I mean wouldn't it be quicker?"

"Dimitri had kryptonite. I'm not at full power. I can't fly. I  can float a little - provided I really concentrate. But I can't  fly. I'm actually sort of amazed I was able to move those stones  as quickly as I did."

Lois was in front of him so fast that he might have been tempted  to think she had superpowers. Her flashlight was lighting up his  face.

"Kryptonite?" she asked; her expression, partially obstructed by  shadows, still bore a million questions. He'd managed to persuade  her the mystery rock they had learned about when they'd  encountered Jason Trask a few weeks previously had probably been  a myth.

Clark nodded. "I felt it when Dimitri attacked me yesterday. I  haven't had most of my powers since that time." He pointed to his  face to illustrate his point. "Or at least I don't seem to have  all of them. But I didn't feel kryptonite this morning, so if he  had it on him, it can't be a very big piece. But then he didn't  get nearly as close to me today." He walked past her then,  heading down the tunnel. "Come on. I think if we follow this  tunnel, it should take us back to the surface."

"Clark, your shoulder," she said.

He paused, reaching over his shoulder to touch the spot where the  bullet had hit him. When he looked at his hand, it was covered  with blood. "Oh, right. Don't worry. I was hit - but I don't  think it exactly went in."

"But..." Her voice trailed off, as if she wasn't at all sure what  to say next.

That suited Clark just fine. Right now the important thing was to  get Lois out of there. And that wasn't going to happen if he had  to stand around answering questions all day. There would be  plenty of time for her to yell at him when she was safe and sound  in Metropolis. He'd worry about the implications of having her  know his secret then, too.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 21

The remainder of the trip back to the surface went by in complete  silence and without further incident - leaving Lois alone with  her thoughts. Clark was Superman. Okay, so maybe he hadn't  exactly told her that. But his comments, not to mention watching  him move those stones out of the way, certainly bore out the  truth of her newfound discovery. Still, knowing it was true and  getting her mind around the concept were completely different  matters.

The idea that her bigger-than-life superhero was really a mild- manner reporter... How did he expect her to react to that?

No. She must be mistaken. She was exhausted, scared and in pain  as a result of her recent exertion on top of her injuries. She  must have imagined that he'd moved the stones out of the way at a  speed which could only be described as super. And her impression  that his running speed hadn't slowed when he'd picked her up...  well, that was only an illusion.

She was fooling herself. Even she knew that. But... She wasn't  entirely sure she'd ever been as shocked by a revelation - and  during her years as a reporter she'd discovered a lot of shocking  things. It was just that Clark and Superman were polar opposites.  Or was that true? They both cared about people. They both, in  their own very distinct ways, struggled to see justice triumph  over evil. But Superman was so confident. His voice so  commanding. Clark was self-deprecating. Not that he didn't have  his own brand of confidence, however. No one would have sent her  into a sewer reclamation facility on a wild goose chase without  having confidence. Although she would never tell him, that had  been the turning point in their relationship. Never again had she  mistaken him for a hick from Nowheresville. The idea that  Superman was actually the one who had sent her on that chase...  well, it was a little hard to reconcile with her image of  Superman.

On the other hand, if Clark was Superman, then she'd completely  misjudged both men. That was a difficult concept for Lois to  accept. Lois Lane, award-winning reporter, fooled by a pair of  glasses, a flashy outfit and some hair gel. So who was the real  man? She knew the answer to that question almost the instant she  asked it - both were. Just as she had many sides to her  personality, Clark/Superman had many sides to his. Although, she  suspected he would say that Clark was the real man - that  Superman was just a disguise. But that wasn't true. Whether he  knew it or not, he'd endowed Superman with a personality that was  different from Clark's. And that personality was a part of Clark,  as real as the one he would likely say was the true him. He was  much like her. She was the hard-bitten career woman who could  face down men twice her size without flinching. But she was also  the romantic who cried at sappy love stories. It was a side she  rarely allowed anyone else to see but it was as much a part of  her as Superman was a part of Clark. Reconciling those two sides  to his personality in her own mind would likely take some time,  and would undoubtedly be the most fascinating endeavor she had  ever undertaken.

She had to admit, she also felt a little upset with Clark. No.  That wasn't completely true. She felt more than just a little  upset. How many times had he laughed behind her back while she  was throwing herself at Superman, praising his attributes to  anyone and everyone who would listen? She felt a surge of anger.

'I love you so much. And the thought of losing you...' His words  of the previous night flashed through her mind and her anger  instantly faded. She didn't doubt he'd been terrified when she'd  disappeared. And given what he'd told her about both his and  Superman's search, she doubted he'd done anything but look for  her from the moment he'd realized she was missing.

The light from the flashlight fell on the fresh blood stain on  the back of his shoulder. She crinkled her eyebrows as the  implications of that stain really sank in for the first time.  He'd told her he'd lost most of his powers when grabbed by  Dimitri the previous day. And if that was the case... Her breath  caught in her throat. He'd jumped between her and the bullet from  Dimitri's gun with full knowledge that the action might get him  killed.

"Are you okay?" asked Clark, obviously having heard her breath  catch.

"Yeah, fine."

"Well, we're nearly there," Clark said, confirming what Lois  already knew from the light she could see coming from up ahead.  They stepped together through the entrance to the tunnel, into  the sunlight beyond. "We'll hike down the hill and steal a boat  so that we can get..."

"Well. Well. Well."

Dimitri's voice coming from up ahead brought Lois and Clark to a  complete stop. Their captors must have known about the back  entrance, and come here when they couldn't follow Lois and Clark  though the tunnel. It crossed through Lois' mind to wonder if  they had been confused about how Lois and Clark had gotten  through the cave-in. Clark must have to worry about things like  that all the time.

Her questions instantly leapt to the back of her mind when Clark  pulled her behind him. He obviously thought he stood a better  chance of surviving a gunshot. But if the blood stain on the back  of his shirt was any indication... Lois wasn't nearly as sure.

"You're a tricky one, Kent," said Dimitri, moving closer while  the others remained in a semicircle around them, guns pointed in  their direction. "I won't underestimate you again."

Lois saw Clark flinch and instantly realized what must be  happening. Dimitri was getting progressively closer. He must have  the kryptonite on him. She heard a small moan escape from the  back of Clark's throat and saw him bend over slightly, holding  his stomach as if in pain.

"You don't want him," Lois said, stepping out from behind Clark,  putting some distance between them in an effort to lead Dimitri  away from Clark. "I'm the one you want." She raised an eyebrow,  meeting Dimitri's eyes in a way she hoped he would understand.

It seemed Clark understood, too, because while Dimitri smiled,  Clark spoke. "Lois, no," he gasped.

"Come on. Or aren't you man enough to take it?" asked Lois,  stepping sideways, further away from Clark.

She let out a breath of relief when she saw two men grab Clark,  holding him away from the scene playing itself out between her  and Dimitri. She knew what she was risking. She knew between men  with guns and her injuries, she didn't stand a chance of fighting  Dimitri off. And personally, she'd prefer he just shoot her than  what she was suggesting to him. Still, with every second Clark  was in the sunlight, his powers should increase. After all, she'd  learned during a story a couple of weeks ago that Superman's  powers were rejuvenated by the sun. All she had to do was to  fight Dimitri off long enough to allow that to happen. Simple.

Suddenly, arms grabbed her from behind. She hadn't anticipated  that development. She kicked out at Dimitri as he approached,  attempting to use her captors' grasp to her advantage. But  Dimitri was beyond her reach. She could hear Clark yelling, but  was too concentrated on the man in front of her to concern  herself with what he was saying - something about what he would  do to Dimitri if he laid a hand on her. Or at least that was what  she thought he'd said. All she cared about was that the men  holding Clark were managing to keep him away from Dimitri -  because kryptonite or not, she knew Clark would attack Dimitri if  he got free.

"You're a wild cat, aren't you?" Dimitri said with a smirk.

She kicked out at him again, squirming and sliding down trying to  get her arms out of the grasp of the man behind her.

"Look at her," said the man holding her. "She's trying to lie  down for you."

Dimitri's leer made Lois literally ill. She began wondering about  the wisdom of this strategy when Dimitri put down his gun and  began undoing his belt buckle. In her peripheral vision, she  could tell that Clark was increasing his efforts to break free.  She cringed when one of the men hit Clark on his already damaged  nose. Still, there wasn't time to worry about Clark now. All her  efforts would be needed if she was to have any chance against  Dimitri.

"Put down your weapons and put your hands in the air."

The sound of a voice amplified by a loudspeaker directed  everyone's attention into the air. And suddenly black police  choppers were filling the sky with their doors opened and sharp  shooters clearly visible from inside.

"We've got hostages," yelled Dimitri, releasing his belt to dive  for his handgun.

Suddenly, all hell seemed to break loose. Men shouting. Guns  firing. Lois collapsed to her knees when the arms holding her  disappeared. She bent over, struggling to catch her breath and  blessing whatever forces in the universe had saved her from a  fate which in her mind was worse than death.

Arms grabbed her, dragging her away from the action before the  man slid down to his knees, wrapping his arms around her and  ensuring that his body was between her and whatever hell was  still happening around them. Without opening her eyes, she knew  who was holding her. She balled her hand into his shirt and  buried her face in his chest, attempting to get the involuntary  trembling in her limbs under control.

And then all was quiet. She cautiously looked up, taking in the  scene. Three men had lost their lives during the events of the  last few minutes - all of them from Dimitri's side. Her hands  began searching Clark's back, assuring herself that he had not  been hit.

"I'm fine," Clark said. "You?"

She nodded before looking around again. "Where's Dimitri?" she  finally asked.

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor was pacing impatiently outside the small, grungy police  station in Isle d'Or. If ever there had been police officers as  incompetent, he didn't want to meet them. When Nigel had come  into his office the day before, telling him that a man from Isle  d'Or was bragging he had 'something Superman wanted,' Luthor had  immediately called this station. The sheriff had actually hung up  on him! If the man ran for office in the next election, Luthor  intended to pump a great deal of money into his opponent's  campaign - that was assuming anyone even ran against him for the  position in this dump of a town.

When he'd been unable to persuade the sheriff to act, Luthor had  contacted Mayson Drake at Metropolis' D.A.'s office. He had been  certain, given her obvious hostility towards Superman, that he  could persuade her to find a way to help. She had placed calls  and called in favors. He himself had called the governor, the  mayor and the chief of police. But all he'd been able to do was  get them to promise to 'look into it.'

He had considered calling Henderson. But after his earlier run-in  with him, and realizing that Henderson was working with Clark, he  wasn't sure the man could be trusted not to tell Perry or, if  Clark had not been able to find Lois, Clark Kent himself. And  Luthor had been determined not to let Kent anywhere near this  rescue. That was why it was slightly ironic that it wasn't until  early this morning when Henderson had received a call at home  from the sheriff who had earlier hung up on Luthor that things  had begun to happen.

A doctor, a serious gash on the back of his head, had shown up at  the police station at some point during the night, claiming to be  part of some kidnapping scheme. He had informed the police that  the kidnapper planned to lock a woman named Lois Lane up in the  old mine, together with Clark Kent. After that, things had come  together quickly. By early morning a strike team, headed by  Maggie Sawyer, had arrived at the sheriff's office.

Luthor wouldn't have even known that the strike team was  assembled if Henderson hadn't called Mayson Drake. Not that  Luthor intended to let Lois know all of that. All she really  needed to know was that after working tirelessly to find her, he  had pressured the police to act. She didn't need to know that if  it had not been for Dr. Jean Turcotte, the sheriff, Bill  Henderson and Maggie Sawyer, the police would never have rescued  her and Kent.

Kent. Luthor's eyes narrowed in contempt. Trust Kent to come  storming in like a five hundred pound gorilla without any sort of  plan and getting himself caught in the process. He could very  well have gotten Lois killed. Still, Luthor couldn't help but  wonder if he'd underestimated Kent, or his feelings for Lois.  After all, by storming in he could very well have gotten himself  killed too. The only positive thing about the situation was that  at least Superman hadn't saved her.

Still, none of that mattered now. Word had come only a minute or  two before saying that the strike team had Lois Lane safely in  custody and was bringing her to this station. He intended to be  the first person she saw when she arrived. That would allow him  to put his own spin on the events of the past day. And in his  experience, spin was the only thing that truly mattered.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois didn't want to let go, even when she heard the police  officer calling her name over the 'thwap, thwap, thwap' of the  helicopter blades. When she and Clark had boarded the helicopter,  she'd instantly curled up against Clark. That had been too close  for comfort. But the trip to the station had been too short. She  wanted more time to regain control of her emotions before having  to let go of her security blanket.

It wasn't until she felt Clark move, apparently intending to pick  her up and carry her off the chopper that Lois finally rallied.  She could do this. Straightening her back, she prepared herself  to meet whatever was outside of this safe cocoon. In her  peripheral vision, she could see the admiration on Clark's face  as she, holding her head high, took the police officer's hand,  allowing him to assist her in disembarking.

During the gun battle between the police and Dimitri's men -  according to the police, they were his brothers - all three men  had lost their lives. But apparently Dimitri had managed to  disappear into the tunnel of the old mine. Maggie Sawyer, who was  in charge of the operation, had assured them Dimitri would be  found. Lois wasn't sure she would feel completely safe until that  happened.

She cautiously stepped out of the helicopter and gave a start  when a very different man's arms were suddenly holding her.

"My dear, you gave me quite a scare. I've dedicated all the  resources at my disposal to the sole objective of finding you  ever since I found out you were missing. I was so scared even  that wouldn't be enough. Even when I finally figured out where  your kidnapper was holding you, I hardly let myself hope..."

"Lex," she said, awkwardly patting his side as she suddenly had a  flash back to the way she'd felt when Dimitri would touch her.  What was worse was that she was distinctly aware of Clark's eyes  on her and Lex. And although she refused to contemplate the  matter, she found his witnessing this scene distinctly awkward.  She broke Lex's grasp on her, stepping away. "Do you think I  could sit down somewhere?" she asked, hoping her question would  give him a plausible reason for breaking his hug.

"Certainly," Lex said, his voice the very picture of concern.  "That was insensitive of me. I was thinking about how grateful I  was that you were all right. I forgot how awful this experience  must have been for you." He put his hand on the small of her  back, directing her towards the station.

"So you are the reason for..." Lois gestured around her. "...all  this?"

"Yes. Well, Ms. Drake from the D.A.s office and I are," he said  as they stepped through the doors to the station to be greeted by  an attractive blonde in a business suit.

"Ms. Lane?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Lois responded, giving her a quick once over.

"I'm Mayson Drake - with the D.A.s office - and I have some  questions for you. Please." She gestured in the direction she  wanted Lois to go.

"Do I have to?" asked Lois. When Drake looked taken back, Lois  continued. "I'm just so tired. Is there any way I can do this  later?"

"Surely that can be arranged, Ms. Drake?" asked Lex. "Maybe Kent,  here, can give you what you need for now. I have a helicopter  standing by to take Lois back to Metropolis General Hospital  right now. I'm sure you understand."

"But..." Lois began, realizing Clark was in worse shape than she.

"Yes. That would probably work," said Drake. "That is, if you  wouldn't mind staying, Clark."

Lois stiffened, not only from Drake's use of Clark's first name,  but also from the way the woman was looking at Clark - as if she  were a preying mantis, sizing up her dinner.

"We have a doctor here who can attend to your injuries. We  weren't sure what shape you and Ms. Lane would be in when we  found you. So I made arrangements to ensure that we had a doctor  here - just in case," Drake said. "If you wouldn't mind staying,  it would certainly help to be able to get your statement. I could  get Ms. Lane's version of events later."

"Umm..." Clark's eyes met Lois' briefly before he looked back at  Drake. "Yeah, I guess that's okay. I have a few questions of my  own. I should call Perry - let him know that we're both alive and  safe. And I need to call my parents. I'll get Perry to give your  mother a call," he added, looking at Lois. "She's been worried  sick."

"But..."

"Go, Lois," Clark said softly. "Luthor's right. You should get  checked out at a hospital. I need to know that you're okay." He  briefly tapped his chest, reminding her of the fresh bleeding  she'd done the previous night. Given the further stress she'd put  on it during their flight and then fight, it was entirely  possible she'd hurt it again.

Still... Her eyes became slightly moist.

"It's okay, Lois. I'm already feeling better," Clark said, giving  Lois a meaningful look.

Realizing she had been completely outnumbered, she finally  nodded. As Lex escorted her to his chopper, she really looked at  him for the first time - noticing he had a black eye. "That's  quite a shiner," she said. "How'd you get it?"

"It's not important," Lex said. He escorted her into the  luxurious helicopter before speaking again. "Would you just give  me a minute? There's something I need to do before we leave."

Lois nodded, sitting down in a luxurious chair. One thing about  going with Lex... he didn't spare any expense. Normally, the way  Lex threw his money around bothered her. But this time... She  pulled her feet up under her, closed her eyes and sank deeper  into the plush seat. She was sound asleep within seconds.

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor made his way into the police station, the genteel man who  had greeted Lois no longer in existence. Clark knew that the  moment he spotted Luthor making his way towards him. He rose from  where he was seated on a hard bench.

"Luthor," he said, meeting the man's eyes.

"If I could find a way to have you charged with criminal  stupidity, trust me, I'd do it. You could have gotten her killed  - storming in here without backup. It's a good thing I figured  out where she was, because otherwise..." He let the words end  there.

Clark didn't say a word as Luthor turned and walked away. As hard  as it was to believe, this time he and Luthor agreed. Not about  back-up, of course. But if he hadn't become distracted by kissing  Lois, she would have been home the previous day. He wondered if  he'd ever have been able to forgive himself if Lois had been  killed in that cave.

He hated letting Lois leave with Luthor. But it was for the best.  As much as Clark loathed him, he knew Luthor would make sure she  was safely checked into Metropolis General - especially given the  number of people who had seen her leave with him. Besides, Luthor  obviously wasn't behind Lois' disappearance. After all, Lois now  had her memory back - and yet she wasn't afraid of him. So it was  unlikely that Lois had been on the verge of exposing Luthor when  she'd been shot. And after everything she'd been through in the  past few days, Clark would feel much better after Lois was  checked out.

In spite of his comments to Lois about feeling better, Clark had  pretty much drained his energy reserves digging though the cave- in in the tunnel, followed by a second encounter with kryptonite.  That was why he'd been unable to break away from the men holding  him when Lois was about to be attacked. He doubted that at the  moment he was any more super than Batman. Still, she didn't need  to be troubled by his problems.

"Clark?"

Clark looked up, seeing Mayson Drake standing in front of him.  She was smiling pleasantly at him, but try as he might, he  couldn't get the look of abhorrence he'd seen in her eyes when  she'd been addressing Superman out of his mind. "Yes?"

"If you want to come with me, we'll get you some medical  attention."

Clark let out a breath before nodding and rising to his feet. He  hadn't been treated by a doctor since he was less than five years  of age. It should be interesting. He wondered if they still gave  out lollipops. But first...

"Is there somewhere where I can make a few quick long distance  phone calls?"

Mayson reached into her briefcase, withdrawing her cell phone.  "Be my guest. I'll just be over there when you're done."

"Thanks," said Clark, accepting the phone awkwardly. He couldn't  help but wonder if she'd be this anxious to help if she realized  exactly who she was helping. "Also," he continued, "do you think  you could direct me towards a washroom?"

Before being examined by the doctor, he needed to remove his  Superman suit. He was certain he could find a place to hide it in  the washroom where no one would detect it until his powers returned and he could come back to get it.

* * * ** * * * *

Part 22

"Aaaa!" Clark yelped. "You could have warned me that you were going to do that!"

"No. Actually, I couldn't," said the doctor. "You'd have tensed  up."

Clark's eyes watered as his hand came up tentatively to his nose.  He had to wonder about the technique of simply snapping his nose  back into place. Still, it was probably a good thing that he'd  had that second encounter with kryptonite. Otherwise, his nose  might very well have healed crooked. The doctor slapped his hand  away.

"Let me make sure it's straight," the doctor said.

"And I suppose hurting me was just a bonus."

The doctor smiled. "Here," he said, handing Clark an ice pack  wrapped in a towel. "That should help with both the pain and the  swelling. Just don't keep it on for more than fifteen minutes at  a time."

"Oh, you poor thing," said Mayson, coming into the room. "So Doc,  what do you think? Is he going to survive?"

Clark quickly picked up his shirt, putting it back on, not  entirely comfortable with the way Mayson was eyeing his chest.

"He'll be fine," said the doctor. "The bullet to his shoulder was  only a flesh wound. And his nose should heal in time. I'll put a  splint on it to hold it in place. But otherwise... he's in good  shape." He picked up a splint and attended to Clark's nose.  "Although given the way he complains, it may be hard to believe  that at the moment."

"Hmph," said Clark, doing up his shirt. "Do I at least get a  lollipop?"

The doctor crinkled his eyebrows in thought before searching  through his little black bag. A moment later, he held up a  lollipop.

Clark's face immediately lit up in a smile as he reached for the  lollipop. "Red! My favorite."

The doctor chuckled at the enthusiasm Clark showed in tearing off  the cellophane and popping the candy into his mouth. "Anyway,  that's about all I can do for you," he said. "But after my little  trick to your nose, the bruising around your eyes will probably  increase. Hope you're not planning to enter any beauty contests  in the next few days."

"He looks good enough to me."

Clark cringed at Mayson's comment.

"So if you're finished with him, does that mean he's mine now?"  Mayson asked.

Clark wasn't sure he liked the underlying tone of Mayson's  question. Maybe he was reading too much into the words. After  all, he knew she needed to question him about the events of the  past couple days.

"He's all yours," the doctor responded, giving Clark a wink.

Clark felt color rise in his cheeks. Obviously, the doctor had  picked up on the same thing in Mayson's question that had  troubled Clark.

* * * * * * * * *

"Is that it?" asked Clark when it seemed Mayson had finished  getting his statement.

"I guess that about covers it. If I think of anything else, can I  call you?"

"Sure." Clark stood. "So am I free to go?"

"Well, I was wondering how you were planning to get back to  Metropolis?"

Clark felt relieved. He'd already considered that problem. Jimmy  apparently had an uncle who owned a boat and was on his way to  pick him up. "I've got a friend coming to get me. And there's  still something I want to do before leaving." He cocked his head  sideways to study Mayson for a moment. "There may be one thing  you might be able to help me with."

"What's that?"

"I want to talk to Doctor Jean Turcotte."

"I'm not sure that's a good..."

"Ms. Drake, when I was talking to Lois, she seemed really  surprised to find out the doctor was involved. She was under the  impression he was a good man. I need to understand why he did it  - and why in the end he turned Dimitri in, even though he knew  he'd be arrested himself."

* * * * * * * * *

"So what do you think, my dear?" asked Lex proudly, opening the  door to a bright, sunny room in Metropolis General Hospital.

Lois' eyebrows rose as an orderly rolled her into the room in the  wheelchair Lex had insisted she use. This room was probably as  impressive as Lex's helicopter receiving permission to land on  the roof of the hospital. She'd never known a hospital room could  be quite as luxurious, homey even. Flowers assaulted her  everywhere she looked. Obviously, Lex had gone to a lot of  bother, but...

"Lex, I'm just planning to have an exam - make sure I'm okay. But  I've still got a story to write. And..."

"Even if you're just having an exam, isn't this better than  sitting in an emergency room waiting for a doctor to get around  to seeing you? I've made sure the very best doctors in gunshot  injuries are standing by."

"This is all very nice, Lex, but I'm sure my insurance won't..."

"Don't worry about that," said Lex dismissively. "I just want to  be sure you're all right. I've been so worried. I'd appreciate it  if you'd humor me and just let the doctors take care of you."

Lois let out a breath. She really didn't need all this. But how  could she say no? She really should have an examination. Knowing  what she knew now about the doctor who had treated her, it might  be wise to be checked out - make sure there were no complications  or infections. After all, they really had only needed to keep her  alive until they got Superman to pay the ransom so... She  mentally slapped her forehead. That was why Superman hadn't  answered Dimitri's calls about delivering the ransom - he had  been locked up in that cave with her. She'd felt so hurt when  Dimitri had first told her that Superman didn't care enough to  take his call. She briefly wondered if she would continue having  little 'eureka' moments like this one.

"So... you will do as the doctor tells you, won't you, my dear?"

Lex's voice snapped Lois back to her surroundings. "Yeah," she  responded.

"Good. Then let's get you comfortable. You might as well have a  nap while you wait for the doctor to arrive."

Lois was starting to hate all this fussing. She really wasn't  feeling all that bad. Although, she had to admit, she was still  exhausted. Maybe Lex was right. She'd just lie down for a minute  - just until the doctor arrived.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark stood for a long moment in the doorway to the cells in the  small police station watching the single occupant. He looked...  almost fragile - hardly the monster Clark had thought him to be  when he'd first laid eyes on him and realized he knew more about  Lois than he was letting on. The man looked almost lost.

Finally, the doctor, seeming to realize he was being watched,  looked up. When he realized who was standing in the doorway, he  instantly diverted his gaze. Clark was left with the distinct  impression that the man was ashamed.

Clark moved closer, until he was standing near the bars of the  cell. "Pourquoi?" Why? A single word. No force or power behind  it. Yet the doctor flinched, as if physically struck.

"Does it matter?" Jean answered.

"Did you know that Lois had her doubts about Dimitri? The only  reason she believed what he told her was because you seemed to  support him. She had the distinct impression that you were a good  man."

The doctor gave a wry smile which disappeared almost immediately.  "Sometimes impressions can be deceiving."

Clark slowly shook his head. "Not in this case, I think," he  said, drawing on nothing but gut instinct himself. "So why don't  you tell me what really happened? It might help Lois to sleep  better tonight if she knows that at least her belief in you was  not misplaced, Doctor."

Doctor Jean finally met Clark's eyes. "Well, there's your first  mistake. I'm not really a doctor."

"What?"

Jean shrugged. "No one in Isle d'Or has had the funds to go to  medical school for... I don't know. Seventy years, maybe. And  what doctor would come here? The patients can't pay. The housing  conditions aren't good. Even the water has to be boiled. I'm not  a doctor. But I'm the closest thing this town has to one - or at  least I was. I guess when I go to jail, they won't even have  that. Tell me the truth. Would you have even known about Isle  d'Or if you hadn't had to come here to find Lois Lane?"

"No. No, I wouldn't have, but what does that have to do with..."

"I knew what Dimitri was suggesting was wrong. I even knew that  he planned to keep most of the money for himself. But he kept  talking about getting us a better medical clinic, modern  equipment, better medicines, clean water." Jean gave a humorless  chuckle. "I guess I wanted to believe that there would be no real  damage done. We'd get the money we needed. And then we'd let Lois  Lane go back to her friends and family. I know it justifies  nothing. But that is why I went along with Dimitri's plan." He  shrugged.

Clark was silent for a long moment. Finally, when he spoke, his  voice was soft. "You know... I bet if I spoke to the Superman  Foundation..."

The doctor's eyes shot up to meet his, a mixture of shock and  hope in them.

"...they would think this a cause worthy of their attention."

"You'd do that?" His question sounded as if he hardly dared to  hope.

And suddenly Clark knew why Lois had trusted this man. He was  sitting in a cell, anticipating a life in prison and his primary  concern seemed to be for the welfare of the citizens of Isle  d'Or. "I'd do that. You had the right motives..."

"I just went about it the wrong way," Jean continued. "It was a  mistake."

"That's a big mistake. And it almost got Lois killed."

"I know. It almost got you killed as well. And I'm prepared to  pay for my crimes." He got up and made his way over to the bars.  Reaching between the bars, he grabbed Clark's arm. "But please...  make sure the people of Isle d'Or don't suffer for my crimes."

Clark studied the man for a moment before nodding. "I promise,"  he said.

Jean looked content as he released Clark's arm. "Merci."

* * * * * * * * *

"Mom," Lois groaned. Why had she let Clark tell Perry to call her  mother? Or why, when her mother had heard the news, couldn't the  woman have had one of her infernal luncheons to attend? If ever  Lois had not needed to see her mother, it was now. "I told you  already. I'm fine. It's over. Why can't you just let it go?"

"It's only over until the next time," said Ellen Lane. "Only next  time you might not be so lucky. I don't understand why you insist  on working for that paper. You could do so much better than being  a reporter."

Lois swatted her mother's hand away from where she was fixing  Lois' hair. "I like being a reporter. And I'm good at it - which  you would know if you ever bothered to read the paper."

"Why would I read the paper? LNN tells me everything I need to  know."

"Great! If only a few more people had your attitude, my job would  become redundant."

"And then you could do something useful with your life."

"What I do is important! I make sure our politicians aren't  dipping their fingers in the till. I make sure our police are  doing their best to arrest criminals. I make sure that no one is  threatening to blow up the space shuttle. All of which you would  know if you bothered reading the paper."

"I'm not sure what you're getting so worked up about. It was just  a suggestion."

Lois pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mom..."

"Now you've given me a headache," Ellen said, rising to her feet.  "They must have some aspirin around here somewhere."

"Yeah. Good idea, mom," Lois mumbled. "Why don't you just go and  look for some?"

"Hmph," said Ellen, leaning over to give Lois a kiss on the  cheek.

"Mom, have you been drinking?" asked Lois, smelling for the first  time her mother's breath.

"I had to have something to steady my nerves," Ellen said  defensively. "If you wouldn't always be putting yourself in  danger, I might not need my brandy."

Lois closed her eyes as her mother made her way to the door. Why  did her mother have to do that? Lois had known it was coming. So  why did she let her mother's determination to blame her drinking  on her eldest daughter get to her?

* * * * * * * * *

Part 23

Dimitri diverted his face in a way he hoped was not suspicious to  the two cops in the waiting room at Metropolis General Hospital  as he headed quickly past. He was fairly certain the idiot  coppers still staking out the old mine on Isle d'Or wouldn't have  figured out yet that he was no longer there. But there was no  point in taking any unnecessary chances.

The thing the police didn't realize and hadn't taken the time to  find out was that all the children of Isle d'Or had grown up  playing in the abandoned tunnels of the old mine. He knew every  one of them and every escape route. It had taken him no time at  all to get out one of the other escape routes and be on his way -  leaving the police no more the wiser.

There was one task he needed to complete. Then he'd disappear and  they'd never find him. Now that his brothers were dead, there was  nothing tying him to Isle d'Or. But before he made his escape,  he'd made Superman a promise - that if Superman brought the  police into this, Lois Lane would die. That was one promise he  intended to fulfill.

He spotted a room marked, 'Staff Only' and, after taking a quick  look around, darted inside. A few minutes later he emerged in  green scrubs.

* * * * * * * * *

"Mr. Luthor?" asked Ellen, spotting a man whom she'd seen in the  society pages, the only section of the paper worthy of her  attention, more times than she could count.

"Yes?" said Luthor.

"I'm Ellen Lane."

"Lois' mother?"

Ellen nodded.   "It's so nice to meet you - although I wish it were under more  pleasant circumstances," said Luthor.

"I just wanted a chance to thank you for everything you've done  for my daughter. The private room. And I understand from Perry  White that you flew her here in your own helicopter."

"Mrs. Lane..."

"Ellen."

"Ellen," Luthor corrected, "I made the arrangements to have her  brought here as soon as I received the information about where  she was being held - not knowing what shape she'd be in when we  rescued her. I wanted to be certain your daughter received the  best care available anywhere in the world. Your daughter is very  special to me. It was the very least I could do."

"You were involved in finding her?" Ellen asked. "Perry didn't  mention that."

"Well, the police really are the ones to thank. I just got a tip  and then put a lot of pressure on them to act. It's a lucky thing  we got there when we did, too. Another few minutes and it might  have been a completely different story."

"What about Superman? I thought he was involved."

Luthor shook his head. "I haven't seen him all day. I assume he  has other things to worry about - probably some disaster that  threatens hundreds of lives somewhere in the world. I'm sure he  would be here if he could. Fortunately, as a private citizen, I  was able to devote myself exclusively to the task of finding your  daughter."

"Well, thank you so much, Mr. Luthor," Ellen said, laying a hand  on his arm.

"It was my pleasure. And please. It's Lex. Your daughter is a  very special woman."

"If only you could find a way to keep her from almost getting  herself killed in the first place..."

"Believe me. I would love nothing more. But..." Luthor moved  closer to Lois' mother, lowering his voice conspiratorially.  "Maybe if we put our heads together, we could come up with some  way to persuade her to take fewer chances."

"I doubt there's much chance of that," said Ellen. "Anyway, you  look like you're going in to see her. And I'm looking for...  You!"

Luthor watched as Ellen Lane made her way over to an orderly who  appeared to be of native descent. The orderly turned and began  heading away.

"Stop, young man!" said Ellen, rushing to catch up to the  orderly. "I need some aspirin. Could you find some and bring it  to my daughter's room immediately?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I'm not allowed to dispense drugs."

"It's just aspirin, for crying out loud. It's not like I'm asking  for morphine." She opened her purse and pulled out a ten. "If you  have to, go to the pharmacy. And hurry. My head is killing me. My  daughter could try the patience of a saint."

"You heard the lady," said Luthor in support of Ellen's demand.  "And if your supervisor has a problem with that, you tell him to  talk to me."

The orderly glanced between Luthor and Ellen before nodding,  stuffing the bill in his pocket and heading away.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri rounded the corner and stopped. Who did that woman think  she was - ordering him around like that? He carefully glanced  back around the corner just in time to see the two people who had  just spoken to him enter Lois Lane's room.

Growling in frustration, he leaned his head against the wall. He  needed to wait for a time when Lois Lane was alone. He spotted a  room on the far side of the corridor. The lights were off and  there was a window in the door. Making sure no one was around to  see, he headed towards the room. He'd just wait there until it  was safe for him to make his move.

He fingered the gun he had stuck in his belt. He only had three  more bullets. That meant he had to make those shots count.

* * * * * * * * *

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask everyone to leave."

Lois felt relieved by the doctor's comment. The last thing she  needed while having her exam was Lex acting like Dimitri had or  her mother continuing to badger her. This was what she hated most  about hospitals - the lack of privacy. While their advertising  maintained that they were a good place to rest, in Lois'  experience a hospital room seemed more like Metro Station.

"Well, that incompetent orderly hasn't brought my aspirin yet, so  I guess I need to go and try to find some."

"I'll help you with that, Ellen," Luthor said, rising to his  feet. "And maybe some coffee will also help. How long will you  be, doctor?"

"Well, I'm going to be doing an exam. Then we'll probably need to  send her for some x-rays. Why don't you come back in about an  hour or so?"

"An hour? My word!" exclaimed Ellen.

"An hour it is then," Luthor jumped in quickly. Leaning over, he  gave Lois a kiss on the cheek. "Ellen, why don't you and I go see  if we can scare up a good meal in this place?"

"When was the last time you were in a hospital?" asked Ellen.  "Lois' father was a doctor - before he abandoned his family to  make cyborgs. And let me tell you there is not a hospital on the  planet that has good food."

"It can't hurt to try," said Luthor, giving Ellen a charming  smile.

Lois let out a breath of relief when Ellen rose to her feet, and  while still complaining, accompanied Lex out of the room.

"Quick. If we move really quick, I bet we could change rooms  before they get back," said Lois the second the door closed  behind her mother, provoking a chuckle from the doctor.

"Okay, well, let's start with the basics," said the doctor,  picking up her wrist to check her pulse rate. As he did, she  wondered if he'd take into account that the tension level in the  room undoubtedly had her pulse racing at the moment.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri watched as the doctor left the room. Adrenaline was  suddenly pumping through his veins. It was time. He had just  opened the door when he spotted an older man with thinning hair  coming down the hall. He quickly closed the door, hoping the man  was just going to pass the room across the way. He silently swore  when the man knocked on the door before cautiously pushing it  open.

* * * * * * * * *

"How you doing, darlin'?" asked Perry, a huge grin on his face  and a beautiful bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand as he  entered the room.

"Perry," Lois said, her face instantly relaxing into the first  smile she'd given since entering the hospital. "Are you a sight  for sore eyes or what?"

Perry laughed, coming over to give Lois a careful hug. "You're  one to talk. Looks like you've just gone ten rounds with a  beached whale."

Lois' eyebrows shot up. But she wasn't going anywhere near that  one.

He looked around at the hundreds of flowers Luthor had decorating  her room. "I guess these are a little redundant," he said,  handing her the flowers.

"They're beautiful, Perry," Lois said, taking the flowers and  admiring them.

"You gave us quite a scare."

"I gave me quite a scare, too."

"I bet. I think I aged about ten years in the past few days. Not  a nice thing to do to your old editor."

"Sorry," Lois said. "Next time I'm facing down a man with a gun,  I'll keep your health in mind."

Perry roared with laughter. "Speaking of which..." He took a seat  on the chair beside the bed. "...where's the story?"

Now it was Lois' turn to laugh. Unlike her mother and Lex, who  both seemed determined to baby her, Perry was wanting his story.  But... "I'm not sure when it will be done. I've got one more  interview I need to get. There is something I need, though."

"What's that?"

"I took some pictures from the honeymoon suite..." Her voice  trailed off when Perry removed an envelope from inside his  jacket.

"Could these be the ones you're referring to?"

Lois tore open the envelope, seeing the pictures she'd taken as  well as two sketches. Her smile instantly faded as her eyes  focused on the sketches.

"These are the men who shot me. Muscle Head and Grey Eyes."

"What?"

"I didn't know their names so..." She shrugged.

"Well, their names were Barry Schaefer and Mark Donahue."

Lois looked back at the sketches. "I understand someone shot  them?"

Perry nodded. "Seriously, though, Lois, I don't want you over- exerting yourself for a story. You take whatever time you need  to..."

"Now you're starting to sound like Lex and my mother," Lois  rebuked, laughter dancing in her eyes. "I liked you better as the  grouchy boss than the overprotective father type."

"I'm serious, honey," Perry said. "You gave me quite a scare. And  Clark... Hell, I'm not sure that boy would have survived if  anything had happened to you. When he thought you were dead..."  Perry's voice trailed off as his mind took him back to the moment  he'd seen Clark finally accept Lois' death.

Lois chewed on her lower lip as she considered Perry's words.  She'd been deliberately trying not to think about Clark - and all  the 'revelations' she'd had over the past twenty-four hours.  Superman. Clark's feelings for her. And as much as Lois was loath  to admit it, her feelings for Clark. It amazed her how losing her  memory had brought those feelings into focus like never before.  She quickly shook her head to clear these thoughts from her mind  in order to concentrate on what Perry was saying.

"So how much longer do they want you to stay here?"

Lois let out a breath. "They want me to stay over night - just  for observation."

Perry nodded, rising to his feet. "Well, you just relax and get  well. I won't expect a story from you until well into tomorrow."  He smiled to let her know that he was kidding.

Her eyes twinkled in response. "Thanks for coming by, Perry.  You're a breath of fresh air in this place."

"Hell, honey, did you really think anything could keep me away?"

He was on his way to the door when Lois spoke again. "Do you know  if Clark is coming to see me?" she asked, trying to keep the  vulnerability she felt from coming through in her voice.

"Last I heard, Jimmy was going out to Isle d'Or to pick up Clark.  He didn't say if he was coming by the hospital or planning to  come directly to the Daily Planet. Do you want me to ask him to  come by when I see him?"

Lois shrugged. "No," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I was  just curious."

Perry's smile seemed a little too knowing and Lois found herself  squirming slightly under her boss' all-knowing gaze.

"Take whatever time you need to get better," Perry said.

"Just as long as the story is on your desk by the time you have  to go to print," Lois added with a chuckle.

"Did I say that?" Perry responded, trying to look offended, but  obviously enjoying the banter between them.

Just as Perry was leaving the room, the doctor returned to tell  Lois he had the results of her x-rays. With a final goodbye,  Perry left her in the doctor's capable hands.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri watched the doctor leave the room. Finally! He waited  another moment - to see if anyone else was coming. When no one  did, Dimitri opened the door to his room and, fingering his gun,  took a look up and down the hallway. No one appeared to be  around. He crossed the hall and opened the door to the room of  his soon-to-be victim.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark felt frustrated by the time he'd finally been told the  number to Lois' room. If he were the suspicious type, he'd be  convinced that Luthor had told the staff at the hospital that  they would lose their jobs if they told him where Lois was  staying. Still, he'd managed to talk a very pretty nurse into  giving him the information he needed.

He knocked. When there was no answer, he shifted the flowers he  was carrying to his left hand so that he could use his right to  open the door. "Hello?" he called into the room. When there was  still no answer, he pushed the door further open. "Anyone here?"  he asked.

He glanced around the room, but it was empty. He took a step  inside, noticing immediately that although Lois was nowhere to be  seen, the place bore a startling resemblance to a florist shop.  "Luthor strikes again," Clark mumbled, looking down at his own  pitiful offering. He'd made Jimmy stop at a flower shop along the  way when he'd caught sight of what appeared to be fresh wild  flowers in the window. Considering the time of year, he'd been  captivated by the sight. He'd thought Lois would love them. In  many ways, they reminded him of her - beautiful and wild. But  seeing the extravagant bouquets placed around the room as if done  by a professional decorator... well, it had been a dumb idea to  begin with.

He let out a breath. Since Lois wasn't there anyway... He stepped  back into the hall, placing the flowers on a trolley sitting just  outside the door. She must have been taken for some tests. Maybe  he had time to go down to the gift shop and get her a box of  chocolates or something. He was sure she'd like that. Giving a  brief nod, he removed his hand from the door, allowing it to  drift closed behind him.

"Clark?"

Lois' voice coming from inside the room caused Clark to spin back  around, pushing the door open just in time to see Lois emerging  from the washroom - fresh from the shower, fully clothed in clean  clothes.

"Lois, what..." He gestured to her clothes.

"Oh, my mom was kind enough to bring me a change in clothing."

"No. That's not what I meant. What are you doing all dressed? I  gave Perry a quick call before coming here. He said you were  staying the night."

"Pfff," said Lois, taking a seat on the bed to put on her shoes.  "There's still some work to be done before we'll be able to write  this story. And I've been thinking that maybe it would be best  not to put the part in about my kidnapping. After all, if people  think that threatening me is a way to get Superman to do what  they want, I'm likely to be kidnapped every week. And that could  get to be really boring. And since the only other story here is  Congressman Harrington and the dead call girl..."

"Dead?"

"...I think we need to talk to Harrington."

"But..."

"I'll fill you in on the details on the way."

"Are you really okay?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes and searching them for a moment.  Then she rose from the side of the bed and came over to where he  was standing. After studying his eyes for a second, her hand came  up to gently touch his cheek. "I'm fine, Clark," she replied  seriously. "The doctor checked me over. He said that I tore out a  stitch from the gunshot wound in my chest, but apparently the  wound had already healed enough that..." She paused and a look of  suspicion suddenly passed through her eyes. When she spoke again,  her voice was not much more than a whisper. "When you looked at  my cut, did you..."

He nodded. "I cauterized the wound," he replied, keeping his  voice as soft as hers - grateful that, although there was no one  around, she understood the need for keeping this matter quiet.

She nodded slowly, and he found himself wishing he could read  minds. After all, they still hadn't seriously discussed what she  had discovered in that cave. But she didn't follow up. Instead,  she returned to their previous discussion. "Anyway, he said it  was okay. Keeping me overnight, I think he just advised that  because Lex is concerned and is putting some pressure on him to  be overly cautious. So... I guess we need to stop by your  apartment so that you can shower and change. But that can't be  helped. You can't very well show up to interview Harrington  looking like that. So are you coming, partner?"

He raised his hand, placing it on the door to block her exit as  she watched him, waiting for an answer. Their eyes met and held  for a long moment.

"Is that all I am, Lois?" Clark finally asked. "Your partner?"

She broke eye contact. When she spoke, her voice wasn't much more  than a whisper. "To tell you the truth, I don't know, Clark."  Finally, she again looked him in the eyes. "So are you coming or  not? My mother and Lex will be back any minute. If we aren't long  gone by then, it will be hell getting out of here."

He lowered his arm, allowing her to step out of the door in front  of him.

"Great. And then, once we've interviewed Harrington, we'll go  back to the Planet to write up the..." Her voice trailed off as  her eyes landed on a bouquet of delicate wild flowers on the cart  outside. "Who would..." She picked up the card lying with the  flowers before he could stop her. When she read it, she finally  looked at him. "Why would you... Because my room currently looks  as if the mad florist invaded," she said, answering her own  uncompleted question. "Lex has a tendency to overdo things at  times." She picked up the flowers. "Sometime simple is better,"  she said softly before, without further acknowledgment, walking  away, carrying Clark's flowers with her.

Clark suddenly felt like a million bucks - or to be more in tune  with the last few days - fifty million bucks. Smiling, he hurried  to keep up with Lois as she headed towards the elevators.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 24

Dimitri snarled as he stepped out of the closet. He'd been so  close! When he'd stepped into the room and realized that Lois  Lane must be in the washroom, he'd withdrawn his gun, waiting for  the second she would return. And then that partner of hers... Did  that man never stop getting in the way? If he'd only had more  bullets...

The problem wasn't only the number of bullets Dimitri had left,  however. There was also the fact that if he shot Kent, Lane would  undoubtedly hear the shot and would lock herself in the washroom.  And all of this was pointless if Lois Lane was not dead.

So he'd ducked into the closet and been forced to remain there  long enough to know that Lois Lane was leaving. He hadn't been  able to hear much of what they had talked about - they were  talking too quietly - but he had heard her mention the Daily  Planet. So he'd just wait for her there. Stuffing his gun back in  his trousers, he headed out of the room and down the hall towards  the elevators. He was waiting for one to arrive when...

"Young man!"

Dimitri cringed when he realized the woman's voice, cutting  through the other noises around them, was clearly directed at  him.

"Young man!"

Seeing no other choice without causing a scene, Dimitri turned  around to find himself facing the woman who had earlier sent him  for aspirin. It crossed his mind that he'd been a fool not to  pretend he didn't understand English when she'd addressed him  earlier.

"Now, I clearly remember sending you for aspirin. And you never  came back."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. There was an emergency," he answered,  wondering briefly if killing Lane's mother would be sufficient  retribution for Superman's failure to follow instructions. He  quickly decided against the notion, concluding that it would  probably be regarded more like a reward than a punishment.

"I don't see why you couldn't have sent someone else to do it if  you were too busy. But never mind that now. Do you know where my  daughter went?"

On the other hand, maybe he could just find a way to make Lois  Lane's mother move in with her. That would be punishment enough  for anyone.

"I'm sorry. I don't," said Dimitri, quickly stepping into the  elevator as soon as the doors slid open.

"Well, my word," said the woman, turning to look once again at  the man with her. "Where in the world could that girl have gotten  to?"

"Relax, Ellen. I'm sure the doctor sent her for some tests. We'll  just have a seat in her room and wait for her."

"Well, I hope you're right. Knowing her, I wouldn't be at all  surprised to find that she got tired of being poked and prodded  and decided to leave. That girl has never shown one ounce of  common sense - well, other than dating you, of course."

* * * * * * * * *

"There's a Ms. Lane and a Mr. Kent here from the Daily Planet  looking to speak with you, sir."

Harrington looked up from the papers he was studying when the  voice of his secretary coming over the intercom filled the room.  "I don't have time to meet with the press today," Harrington  responded. "Could you ask them to set up an appointment?"

There was a moment of silence before an answer came back to him  which caused his blood to freeze.

"They said to tell you it has something to do with a party at  Suite 1110, 1726 Water Street on Friday night."

Harrington hesitated. If he told them to come in now, would they  take that as some sort of admission? But if he refused to see  them, he would worry about what exactly they knew about Friday  night. He needed to make it sound casual - find out what they  knew without giving anything away himself. After all, they might  not know anything. "Very well," said Harrington, trying to keep  his voice sounding appropriately bored. "I suppose I have time  for a short interview. Send them in, Marci."

He rose from behind his desk and had just slipped into his jacket  when the door opened and Marci escorted in a man sporting a nose  cast. He had two black eyes and looked as though he'd used a very  dull razor - given the number of small cuts on his face. With him  was a petite, very pretty brunette who had the sharpest eyes  Harrington had ever seen.

"Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane, it's nice to finally have the opportunity to  meet you," he said, offering each his hand. "I'm familiar with  your work, of course." He gestured them to chairs. "So how may I  help you?"

The woman looked at the secretary who had led them into the room  and waited until she closed the door behind her before turning  back to Harrington. She removed a tape recorder from her  briefcase and placed it on the desk, making a show of setting it  for record. Then reaching into a brown paper envelope she also  took out of her briefcase, she removed what appeared to be a  photo of some sort.

"Okay, let's get past the niceties," said the woman, slapping the  photo down on his desk. "On Friday evening, you were with this  woman. And trust me when I say, you weren't playing checkers. But  that's not why we're here. That's between you and your wife. What  we're interested in is that later in the evening, two men came  into the room..." She withdrew two sketches, laying them out in  front of him. "...the older man shot the woman and then escorted  you out of the room." She finally sank down into her chair. "So  do you want a chance to tell us what happened? Or did you just  want the public to draw its own conclusions?"

Harrington sank down into his chair, suddenly feeling slightly  faint. He glanced over at the man, hoping to find there some sign  of support. After all, no matter what she said, he didn't exactly  believe the woman's dismissive comments about not being  interested in his adulterous behavior. That made great copy,  after all. He'd known the press long enough to know that. But all  he saw on the man's face was a faint expression of amusement.

Harrington cleared his throat. "I don't know what you think you  know, but that woman is an old friend of..."

"The family?" Lane asked. "I'd try again if I were you. We have a  witness who will testify that she was one of Madam Benoit's  girls."

"And in case you haven't heard," added Kent, "Madam Benoit really  doesn't like it when her girls get hurt or killed."

Lane gave Kent an odd look before redirecting her attention to  Harrington.

"I don't know..." Harrington's voice trailed off as he tried to  think of something plausible to say. He was a politician, for  crying out loud. He made non-denial denials for a living.

"How about I help you out here?" asked Lane. "My theory... Do you  want to hear my theory?"

He gestured her to continue. At least as long as she continued  talking, he had more time to come up with a believable non- denial.

"I think someone is holding this over you... perhaps to get your  cooperation as the chairman of the Congressional Inquiry into  organized crime."

"What?" Harrington couldn't help his gasped response.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois regarded Harrington's expression carefully. He seemed  genuinely startled by her suggestion. But then, if the men who  had killed the prostitute had been killed, it was possible that  no one had contacted Harrington to ensure he knew their  expectations. "Are you saying that no one has ever contacted you  about this? Perhaps mentioned something, even if just in passing,  that might make you wonder if that was the reason you found  yourself in that situation that night?"

"I... wait," Harrington said, obviously suddenly seeing things in  a different light. "The next day Bill Church Jr. came to see me.  He said... That bastard! He told me the police wanted to search  Suite 1110 but that he could make any evidence of foul play  disappear."

"Bill Church Jr? The son of the man who owns Cost Mart?"

"Yeah. He's the one who threw the party. He's the one who invited  the girls. He told us it was just his way of saying thank you for  agreeing to rent the suites we needed from him while we are in  Metropolis."

"But he hasn't asked for any favors in return? Do you have any  idea what he might want?" Clark asked, amazed by how open  Harrington suddenly seemed to be. Obviously, Lois' theory had  startled him into talking.

Harrington shook his head before rising from behind his desk and  going to look out his office window. "When that guy killed the  girl..." There was a long moment of silence. "I really thought I  was next. I was confused when he escorted me from the room,  telling me that I really didn't want to be seen there. After all,  there was no way I'd ever be able to explain being caught with a  dead hooker. I wanted to call the police when I got back to my  suite, but..."

"But you were afraid of it being plastered all over the front  page."

He snorted. "I was afraid of losing my wife." He turned and  looked at Lois. "Because no matter what you may think of me, Ms.  Lane, I do love my wife."

Lois forced herself to bite back the immediate response that  sprang to mind. He was cooperating. There was no need to  antagonize him - yet.

"And I guess I thought," Harrington continued, "who would believe  me if I said that someone walked in and shot the girl in front of  me."

"The girl's name was Joanne Smith," Clark said.

Lois glanced over at Clark. She was slightly surprised when he  didn't look too impressed with Harrington's claims. Wasn't there  some unwritten guy-code that said that they all had to be  impressed by a man's sexual conquests - even if such conquests  were paid for?

"And she had friends who cared about her and have been wondering  what happened to her," Clark continued.

Harrington looked at Clark for a long moment before giving a  small nod. "So where do we go from here?" he finally asked. "I  don't suppose there is any point in asking you not to go to  print."

When both Lois and Clark raised their eyebrows in unison,  Harrington nodded. "Could I at least ask for a few days to tell  my wife?"

"Our editor wants to run this in the morning edition," said Lois.

"On the other hand..." Clark began.

Lois glanced over at him. He obviously had something on his mind.

"...we don't really have anything on Church yet - no real  indication that he wants something from you..."

"...or wants you to keep something from the committee..."  continued Lois, realizing immediately where Clark was going with  this. "...so at this point all we have are our suspicions that  Church is somehow mixed up in organized crime..."

"...after all, why else would he be interested in controlling the  chairman of this particular inquiry?"

"Precisely! So if you would be willing to work with us on a sting  operation..."

"...we wouldn't be able to go to print until at least the day  after tomorrow, giving you time to tell your wife."

Harrington had been looking back and forth between them as they  broke into each other's sentences, completing them like a dance  they had been performing for years.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri ducked into the shadows when Lois Lane and Clark Kent got  out of a cab in front of the Daily Planet. He looked around. But  in broad daylight, across a crowded street... it was too risky.  Better to wait until Lois Lane left at the end of the work day.  Hopefully it would be dark enough to give him a clear shot  without being seen by everyone and their dogs. If it wasn't dark  enough... well, he could always follow her home.

He waited for his target to disappear inside the building before  making his way over to a hotdog stand to order lunch. If there  was one thing he'd learned during his years of fishing, it was  patience. He'd wait for the perfect moment. And then he wouldn't  fail.

* * * * * * * * *

As Lois watched Clark making his way to Perry's office, she found  herself appreciating the way he moved. It reminded her of a large  cat. His spare pair of glasses were on his face, in spite of how  they looked with the nose cast. He'd told her that he was feeling  better when they were in the police station in Isle d'Or. That  was the only reason she had agreed to leave him behind. She'd  assumed by his comments that his powers were starting to come  back. But considering the bruising still around his eyes,  obviously that was not the case.

She was amazed by the amount they had accomplished during the  past couple of hours. They had talked to Inspector Henderson  about the sting operation. He was going to set it up for the  following morning in Harrington's suite. Apparently, since he'd  gone into Suite 1110 with a search warrant, he'd been looking  into Church's activities and he'd found something very  interesting - before Intergang would make an appearance in a  city, Cost Marts would start springing up. It wasn't proof of  anything, but it was certainly quite a coincidence. So he was  more than enthusiastic about the possibility of setting a trap  for Church. Lois could feel it in the pit of her belly - they  were on the verge of breaking open a huge story. Intergang. No  other paper in the country had ever broken a single story where  this shadowy organization was anything more than a rumor.

On their way back to the Planet, Clark had filled her in on  Doctor Jean's story. After hearing it, Lois had suggested they  talk to Henderson - to see if there was anything they could do to  get the charges reduced or even dropped against the doctor. Lois  was relieved that her judgment, at least when it came to the  doctor, was not completely off-kilter. Henderson had promised to  look into it and see what he could do.

The way Henderson had looked at her when he'd first arrived at  the Planet - almost affectionately - had initially unnerved her.  So of course, she had to give him a hard time. Just to make sure  he knew she was really back, of course. She grinned. She loved  the give and take relationship she had with the inspector. Not  that she would ever tell him that. And she had no intention of  letting him get all soft on her just because he'd thought she was  dead. Still, it was good to know he'd been concerned.

She'd called the hospital to find out that her mother was going  crazy. She'd had no choice but to talk to the woman. Ten minutes  later, when she'd finally been able to hang up the phone, she'd  been completely exhausted. Apparently Lex had still been there,  too - although she hadn't spoken to him. She'd had to stifle a  grin when she thought about Lex spending time with her mother.  She had quickly rebuked herself for that uncharitable thought.

While she'd made that call, Clark had been on the phone with  Cindy McPherson, telling her what had happened to her friend,  Joanne Smith, in Suite 1110 on Friday night. When he hung up the  phone, he'd looked incredibly pale - as if telling that woman  what had happened to her friend had reminded him of the feelings  he'd had when he thought she was dead.

Lois had used the opportunity to probe into his, or should she  say Superman's relationship with Madam Benoit. She'd wondered  about the familiarity Clark seemed to have with the woman during  their interview with Harrington. She gave her head a slight  shake. Only Clark could have a completely innocent relationship  with the most renowned madam in Metropolis. At least, given the  way he'd blushed when she'd challenged his story, she'd been  forced to conclude he was telling the truth.

Mayson Drake had also stopped by to get Lois' statement. Lois had  to say that she really didn't like the woman. She found herself  wondering if the woman was dirty. Then again, her feelings might  have been somewhat affected by the way Mayson kept looking at  Clark.

Clark. Lois reached over and rearranged the wild flowers in the  vase on her desk. She smiled. She had to admit, she loved them -  so much nicer than all those perfectly arranged flowers Lex had  undoubtedly had one of the members of his staff stuff into her  hospital room. How could Clark think she wouldn't appreciate his  gift? Was it because he didn't think he could compete with Lex?

But he could compete with Lex - in every way, should he so wish.  She'd become more than aware of that this afternoon when she'd  seen, for the first time in her life, what fifty million dollars  cash looked like. Her eyes drifted back to where she could see  Clark through the window that separated Perry's office from the  newsroom. A diamond mine. Who'd have thunk it? Still, knowing  what she did now... when Clark had asked Perry if a couple of the  armed men who handled the Daily Planet's finances could take the  ransom money to the Superman Foundation, she'd been in awe. That  money belonged to him. He'd obtained it by completely legal  means. And yet it seemed that Clark Kent was not at all motivated  by money. He'd almost seemed relieved when the money was finally  on its way to the charity - to be especially earmarked for  helping Isle d'Or. There was nothing to stop Clark from competing  with Lex on any front he chose. He simply didn't choose to be  rich.

Dimitri was still on the loose. The police seemed to think that  he was probably halfway to Canada by now. Not that he stood a  chance of making it to the border if Superman was back in the air  in the next day or so. Her eyes again returned to Clark. He'd  gone into Perry's office quite some time ago. What could be  taking so long? Surely Perry must understand that publishing the  story about her kidnapping would not be wise. And when they had  this juicy lead on a much bigger story...

"Well?" she asked, jumping to her feet when Clark emerged from  the lion's den.

"Well, what? I told him what was going on. He seemed excited.  But..."

"What?"

"He thinks we should write up the kidnapping story, too."

"What! Doesn't he understand that... I'm going to talk to him!"

She immediately headed towards Perry's office, only to be stopped  by Clark's hand on her arm.

"Clark, we can't..."

Her voice trailed off when he began escorting her towards the  conference room. Once they were inside, he released her arm,  turning towards the door.

She stood, arms folded across her chest, eyebrows raised as she  waited for him to explain himself. This had better be good.

He closed the door and turned towards her, his eyes quickly  taking in her stance.

"Okay, out with it, Clark. I really don't think we should let the  world know about the kidnapping. After all, if people know that  Superman can be manipulated by kidnapping me..." She let her  voice trail off. After all, the implications were obvious - as  was her new understanding of how easily Superman could be  manipulated if someone were threatening her. Up until now, she  would have assumed that Superman would do the right thing - even  if that meant she lost her life. Now she wasn't nearly as sure.  Realizing Clark was Superman put a different slant on so many  things - this being one.

"Perry made a really good point," Clark began. "There are already  too many people who know about the kidnapping. Everyone here.  Cops. Doctors. Luthor - and who knows how many people at Lex  Corp. Temp workers. And who knows who all. Not to mention the  story in the Daily Planet saying that you were missing. That's  going to get someone's attention if you just show up again with  no explanation."

The defiance left her stance.

"Someone is going to talk," she said for him. "And when that  happens, we won't have any control over the way the story is  reported."

"Right."

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she contemplated the  problem. "So... how do we spin this in a way that doesn't give  others the same idea?"

"I think the only thing we can do is play up the outcome for the  kidnappers."

Lois nodded slowly. "And I think we need to downplay Superman's  involvement - he was just the one taking the calls from the  kidnapper."

"And we play up the role of the police in rescuing us."

Lois nodded. "Okay, partner, I guess we still have some work to  do."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 25

It was about an hour before Lois was prepared to send the final  copy of their story to Perry, and another few minutes before he  called Lois into his office. With a quick look at Clark, she  headed in the appropriate direction. It was sometime later before  she emerged from Perry's office.

"Well?" asked Clark, rising from behind his desk.

"Perry says good job on the story. He thinks we should get out of  here if we're planning to be at the sting operation first thing  tomorrow morning - something about us needing to get our rest."

"Then what took you so long?" asked Clark.

"Oh." Lois shifted uncomfortably. "He was just telling me one of  his Elvis stories. Something about how Priscilla acted when she  found out Elvis was an honorary FBI agent... Sorry, I wasn't  really listening. I guess I didn't know there was going to be an  exam on it following the lecture."

"I guess that means there's no point in my borrowing your notes."

Lois gave him a jab in the ribs.

"Hey!" Clark yelped, trying to look injured, but he was smiling  too hard to pull it off properly.

Lois gave a 'hmph' before turning and walking back to her desk,  allowing just enough swing in her step to be sure that his eyes  would follow her. She glanced back at him before she sat down and  smiled when she saw the distracted look on his face. She briefly  wondered if he had always been so easy.

"Umm... Anyway," said Clark, giving his head a slight shake as he  followed her to her desk, "what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Sorry... about us getting out of here for the rest of the day...  I thought maybe..."

Before he could complete his thought, the telephone on Lois' desk  rang. She gave him an apologetic look before answering it. She  wasn't entirely sure what he was going to suggest, but she  suddenly discovered that a number of butterflies were flying  around in her stomach.

"Hello?" she asked. "Oh, hi, Lex." She wasn't looking at Clark,  but even so she could feel the disappointment coming from his  direction. "I'm sorry about that. But I knew my mom would try to  talk me out of it. And I'm fine... really. I wanted to get an  interview that would help me finish the story I was investigating  before I got shot." There was a long pause. "Tonight?" she asked,  shifting a little further away from Clark and lowering her voice.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way back to  his desk. After the way she'd been flirting with him when she'd  come out of Perry's office - he hadn't imagined it, he really  hadn't - he'd actually worked up the nerve to ask her if he could  take her out for an early supper before he took her home. And  then Luthor... Even in his mind, Clark spat the name. If he could  find a way to blame Lois' entire misadventure on Luthor, he'd do  it. But he had to follow the evidence. And it appeared that this  time, Luthor was innocent.

Still, since it sounded as if Lois was making plans to get  together with Luthor this evening, he might as well think about  heading home himself. If only he could find a way to keep his  mind from running the play by play of how Lois' date with Luthor  was going. That was the worst part of knowing when Lois was going  on a date with that man - stopping himself from constantly  wondering what they were doing. It was seven-o-five. Luthor was  probably picking Lois up. It was eight fifteen. The waiters were  probably serving dinner. It was ten forty-five. He was probably  walking Lois to the door of her apartment. After that, he usually  tried not to think about the possibilities.

Maybe he should have kept the fifty million. Maybe money really  was important to her. After all, what else could she possibly see  in Luthor? Okay, so maybe he was... all right looking - if one  was into old guys. And maybe he could be charming - if one liked  drowning in honey. And maybe he did seem cultured - if one was  into watching men in tights. Besides, if Lois wanted to watch men  in tights, he'd take her to a football game. Hell, he'd even spin  into the Superman suit for her. Luthor couldn't do that!

He let out a slow breath. What was the point of these thoughts?  For some reason which was beyond Clark's ability to comprehend,  Lois liked Luthor. It was as simple as that really. And as long  as she did... Maybe it was best if he just cut his losses now and  called it a night.

He began making his way up the ramp towards the coatrack.

"Clark?"

Lois calling his name stopped Clark in his tracks. Her head was  tilted to the side, as if she was trying to figure out why he was  sneaking out on her. He looked briefly at the ceiling before  heading back down the ramp.

"Before we were so rudely interrupted..." Lois began.

Clark's eyebrows rose. She considered a call from her boyfriend a  rude interruption?

"...you were about to say something."

Did he dare? Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he spoke.  "I was sort of wondering if you'd like to have supper with me  tonight. But I guess Luthor beat me to it."

"I told Lex I was too tired."

"Oh, well, I guess I should have expected that. You've had a  rough week. I should have thought..."

"But... well, you've been telling me for weeks what a great cook  you are. I figure if you can put up with me in a pair of sweats  and an oversized sweat shirt, I thought it might be nice to use  tonight to find out if you've been telling me the truth."

Clark's face broke into a smile. She was too tired to go out with  Luthor, but if he had just heard her right, she had just invited  herself over to his apartment for supper. He wasn't about to ask  if this was a date. He was too scared to do anything which might  burst his unexpected good fortune. "Well... I can make a mean  fettucine alfredo. Will that do?"

* * * * * * * * *

What had she done? Lois wasn't entirely certain. Was this a date  or wasn't it? Was she the one who had invited him out? And what  type of message was she sending by actually inviting herself over  to his place? Oh, sure, she'd been there in the past. But this  wasn't quite the same. After all, this was a date. Or was it? She  couldn't say for certain. Could this whole situation get any more  ambiguous?

Did she even want it to be a date? Hadn't she already decided  that dating Clark would be a disaster? But if it wasn't a date,  then why, when she'd changed at her apartment, had she put a dab  of her best perfume behind her knee? Okay, so maybe she was done  pretending she wasn't attracted to Clark - possibly even more.  But nothing had really changed between them. They were still  colleagues. She'd made the mistake of dating a colleague  previously. And hadn't she heard somewhere that the definition of  insanity was doing the same thing over and over but expecting  different results?

Well, that settled it. She was insane. Maybe she could blame it  on the stress of the past few days. But when Lex had suggested  taking her out to dinner, she'd realized she was hungry, wanted  real food, but wanted to eat it curled up on a couch in a pair of  sweats. And she couldn't imagine doing that with Lex. After that,  things had just sort of taken on a life of their own.

She watched Clark as he chatted happily away to her while  juggling his bag of groceries with one hand and unlocking the  door to his apartment with the other. She wasn't really listening  - something about having lost his key when Dimitri took his  wallet - while removing another one from under a plant that sat  on the ledge outside his door. She rolled her eyes. He really was  just a country boy at heart.

He opened the door and waited until she walked in before  following. Her forward movement halted suddenly when she spotted  the corner of his bed through the doorway to the bedroom. She was  pushed forward when he ran into her back.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately.

She nodded mutely. 'Get a grip, girl. This is just Clark you're  with. It's not as if he bites - at least he doesn't look like a  biter,' she thought, suddenly having images of him nibbling his  way over her throat like he had when...

"Are you sure you're okay, Lois?" he asked again.

"Yeah, fine," she responded briskly, heading down the steps into  his living room. She knew he was still standing on the steps,  watching her, probably with a puzzled look on his face. "I'm just  going to relax while you impress me with your cooking skills. I'd  offer to help, but..." She shrugged. "...I'm a federal disaster  in the kitchen." 'That's not the only room you're a federal  disaster in,' said a little voice in the back of her mind. "Shut  up!"

"Did you say something?" asked Clark from where he'd walked past  her on his way to the kitchen.

"No," responded Lois, silently cursing herself once again. Maybe  she just needed a distraction. Yes. That was it. She was just  way, way over thinking things. After all, it wasn't actually a  date - she didn't think. So... She looked around the living room  for something to distract her. Yes. She'd watch some TV. Sitting  down on the couch, she picked up the remote and turned on the  television.

She was surprised when she felt Clark come up behind her,  reaching over her shoulder to steal the remote, clicking the  television off.

"But..." she began before her voice trailed off. He'd just stolen  her security blanket - the one thing that was sure to keep her  from thinking too much about what was happening between her and  Clark. She avoided his eyes when he took a seat on the coffee  table in front of her.

"Lois." His voice was strong, yet gentle. She heard him let out a  long slow breath. "Okay, out with it. What has your knickers in a  twist, as Perry would say?"

The expression caught her so off guard that her eyes met his for  the first time since she'd asked him to bring her to his place  and make her supper. The look of concern that met hers was almost  more than Lois could take. She quickly looked away.

"Don't you want to do this? I could take you home if you're too  tired or something."

Did she want to go home? He'd just given her the perfect excuse.  So why wasn't she taking it? She could just tell him that she  wasn't feeling up to conversation tonight.

"Look, Lois, please talk to me. Did I do something to upset you?"

"What?" she gasped.

* * * * * * * * *

Dimitri tapped a cigarette out of the pack and stuck it in his  mouth. He flicked his lighter. A small flame appeared. Sticking  the end of the cigarette in the resulting fire, he drew in a long  slow breath, lighting the cigarette. He removed the cigarette  from his mouth and exhaled, causing a small stream of smoke to  drift slowly upwards in the still evening air as he leaned  against the building across from Clark Kent's apartment.

At least he assumed he was outside Clark Kent's apartment. After  all, it had been Clark Kent searching for a key to open the door.

When Lane and Kent had emerged together from the Daily Planet in  daylight, he'd made the decision to follow - for the first time  in his life getting to utter those immortal words of both  television and movies: 'follow that cab.' And follow it he had.  First to one apartment building where Lois Lane had disappeared  inside for a few minutes, reemerging in a sweat suit. Then to a  grocery store where Lane and Kent had emerged with a bag of  groceries. And finally, to this apartment building.

He made himself more comfortable, taking a seat on the steps of  the building as he enjoyed his cigarette. He only hoped Lois Lane  didn't wait too long before leaving that apartment. He'd prefer  not to have to kill Lane with Kent there. Not that he had a  problem killing Kent, too. But he only had three bullets left in  his gun. And Lane was the important target. Superman had to be  taught a lesson.

Still, he couldn't wait too long. If people began looking at him  suspiciously, he'd have no choice but to go in. And if that  happened... From his pocket, he removed the key he'd taken from  Clark Kent's wallet.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 26

"Well, what else am I supposed to think - than that you're upset  with me about something?" asked Clark. "You've been... well,  unusually quiet since we left the Daily Planet. You can tell me  anything, you know. I'll understand - or at least I'll try to."  Clark wasn't sure what to think. Never had Lois seemed so... He  struggled to find the right word, but was unable to decipher her  emotions. He had learned how to read angry Lois or babbling Lois  or even excited Lois. But silent Lois... This was a new  experience for him.

She met his gaze, seeming to search his eyes for something. She  finally broke eye contact. "Clark, is this a date?" she asked.

"What?" asked Clark. "Lois, coming over here for supper was your  idea. If it's just two friends sharing a meal or if it's  something more... I think that's pretty much your call. You know  how I feel about you. And if friendship is all you can offer,  then I'll be happy with that. But..." He gathered his courage  before continuing. "I love you. And after almost losing you, I'm  not prepared to pretend I don't. I won't be left with those kind  of regrets again - regrets about things I'd never told you,  things you never knew. I couldn't live with myself if something  happened to you and I..." His voice trailed off. "Now if it makes  you uncomfortable, I'll never say those words to you again. And  we can pretend I never said them in the first place. But I won't  take them back. I can't."

Lois didn't respond for what felt to Clark like an eternity.  Instead, she rose from the couch, walking around the apartment,  fingering various nicknacks. "Clark, I've been down this road  before." She finally turned and looked at him. "I told you about  him."

"Claude?" He waited for her to nod. "Lois, I'm not Claude."

"I'm not saying you are, but... Clark, tell me about Cat?"

The apparent non-sequitur caught him off guard. "Huh?"

"Come on, Clark. Within the first few weeks at the Planet, you'd  asked me out and you had taken Cat to bed."

"I told you, I never..."

"Clark, please. Just be honest with me. I know you slept with  Cat. It was all over the Planet. I heard it everywhere I went.  Although, to be honest, some of the stories got a little...  wild."

"Arggg," Clark groaned, running his hands through his hair in  frustration. "Lois, when you and Claude broke up, did the Planet  gossips each have their own theories about what happened?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"And how many of those stories were true?"

"None. But that was because Claude started telling stories before  I had a chance to tell my side. So when I got around to it, no  one was listening anymore. They all thought I was just saying he  stole my story to cause him problems because he had told everyone  I was frig...  Well, whatever. But that's not the same."

"Why, Lois? Why isn't it the same? I went to Cat's that evening  because I needed a place to hide out where the FBI wasn't going  to find me. She made a couple of advances... which I side  stepped. And then you called."

"And the jungle drums in the background?"

"She turned them on when I took the phone - I think hoping that  you'd hear them and jump to the exact conclusion you reached. By  the time I got into the Planet, everyone was convinced we were  hanging naked from the chandeliers. And nothing I could say to  anyone... not even you... would convince them differently. And  yet, nothing... nothing happened between Cat and me. How is that  so different from what Claude did to you?"

"Well, let's see. The rumors that circulated about me were that I  was a challenging lay... but probably not worth the effort since  I was so bad in bed. Now, let me recall if I can think... what  was it they said about you? Oh right. I remember now. Stud. That  was the term, wasn't it? The guys all slapping you on the back.  Cat making it clear that she wanted more. Yeah. A real chore for  you."

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't the same thing."

"Besides, I really thought I was in love with Claude." She  resumed her pacing. "I was completely devastated."

Clark let out a breath. He wasn't entirely sure how this topic  had come up - or why. But something was weighing on Lois' mind  and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Still, it was  with more than a little trepidation that he dove into the  quicksand that this topic could very well turn out to be. "How  does all of this relate to your asking me if this is a date?"

She turned around and looked at him. He was caught off guard by  the fear he could see in her eyes. "Clark, you're quickly  becoming the best friend I've ever had."

He was shocked. She thought of him as her best friend. He'd never  been entirely sure that she even considered him a friend.

"And the only partner who I've ever been able to stand to work  with."

He was bolstered by that admission. Over the past few weeks,  she'd begun to treat him like a partner. But until this moment,  he hadn't been entirely sure whether it was because she liked  working with him or if she'd simply accepted the fact that Perry  seemed determined to keep partnering them together on stories.

"If we date... or, well, if something were to happen between  us... I'm not sure I could stand to lose that."

Clark suddenly understood what was going on here. The questions  about Cat and his moral character. The comments about Claude. She  was terrified that he would treat her as Claude had. And  considering the amount of thought she had already obviously put  into this, it had been weighing on her mind for a while now. So  how did he convince her that he wasn't Claude?

He rose from where he was seated, walking over to her as she  stood looking at a picture of him and his parents. Taking her  arm, he turned her towards him. "Lois, I'm not Claude." 'Great  start,' he immediately thought sarcastically. 'That was really  going to convince her.' Still, she looked as if she wanted to  believe him. 'Think, Clark. Think,' he told himself firmly.  "Okay, look... what if we do this? We just take it slow and see  what happens. We could just spend more time together as friends.  If that works out, then we could try a date. If we decide that it  isn't leading anywhere, then we go back to being partners."

She looked skeptical.

"Look, Lois, I don't want to sleep with you."

When her eyebrows rose in disbelief, he realized that hadn't come  out quite the way he intended.

"Okay," he conceded. "Maybe I do. But that's not all I want. I  don't want a single night or a brief fling."

"Then what do you want, Clark?"

He hesitated. "I want to know if you're the woman I could spend  the rest of my life with. What I know right now is that when you  walk into the room, I can smell your perfume, I can hear your  heartbeat, I can feel your presence. And in that moment, I know  that I'm truly alive. When I thought you were dead, nothing in my  life meant anything to me. I'm completely, head-over-heals in  love with you."

She chewed on her lower lip, looking down, somewhere near his  mid-chest. After a moment, her hand came up and touched his chest  very tentatively. "I want to believe you, Clark." She let out a  short breath. "I really do, but..." Her voice trailed off.

"Look, if I hurt you the way Claude did... if I spread rumors  about you or do anything to deliberately hurt you, you have my  permission to..." His voice trailed off as he tried to think of  something suitable she could do to get her revenge.

"...to what, Clark? To tell the whole office we slept together.  No matter what I say after that, you still look like the stud and  I still look like the slut. There's nothing I could tell them  about you that would hurt your reputation."

"You could tell them I'm Superman. That's something you know I  don't want anyone else knowing."

"That's not fair, Clark. That's not the same thing."

"I don't know how you can say that. Telling people I'm Superman  would destroy my life."

"And your parents' lives, and your friends' lives, and the lives  of everyone you've ever cared about. But that's just it. It's too  big a secret. No matter what you do to me, I couldn't destroy you  like that."

A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he looked at  Lois in complete awe. He had never even had to ask her to keep  Superman a secret. She'd worked out the need for secrecy for  herself - and she'd made it clear in a way he hadn't expected  that no matter what happened, his secret would always be safe  with her. He wasn't sure he had ever loved her more.

"I need a better secret," she finally said.

"Better than mild-manner reporter is actually superhero?" asked  Clark in disbelief.

She nodded, completely serious. "Something that would embarrass  the hell out of you if it got out, but that wouldn't destroy your  life."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded.

"And if I give you that, will you agree to go out with me?" Clark  wasn't entirely sure he'd ever had to go to such an extent to get  a woman to agree to go on a date before. On the other hand... He  smiled slightly. ...she was worth it.

She searched his eyes for a moment, as if realizing that he'd  thrown down the gauntlet. It was up to her to pick it up or let  it lie there. "If the secret is good enough," she answered,  throwing the challenge back at him.

He turned away, mulling it over in his mind. He had just the  thing for her. And if things between them developed the way he  hoped they would, she would find out eventually anyway. Not that  he'd be very pleased if it became fodder for the gossips in the  newsroom. Still... wasn't she worth any risk? "Okay," he finally  said, turning back towards her.

"Okay?" she asked, as if she hadn't expected him to agree.

"If that's what it will take for you to trust me, okay."

Tears began welling up in her eyes. "Clark..."

His finger on her lips cut her off. "At some point, you're going  to find this out anyway. Or at least you will if things develop  between us the way I hope they do." He smiled. "I guess you might  as well know now." He directed her back to the couch, taking a  seat beside her. He picked up her hand and played with it for a  moment before meeting her eyes. "Lois, I'm a virgin. I'm not  ashamed of it exactly, it's just... well, for a guy it does raise  a lot of questions and..."

"Clark, would you be serious?" Lois said, giving his arm a slight  slap. "I thought you were going to tell me some big secret. And  instead..."

"I am serious," Clark interrupted.

"...you go on about..." Her voice trailed off. A look of  confusion passed through her eyes. "You're... serious?"

Clark nodded.

"But..." Her voice trailed off again, as if she couldn't quite  find a way to wrap her mind around the idea, much less put it in  words. "Oh wow!" she finally gasped, rising from the couch to  pace once again. "I mean that's..."

"Honorable? Charming? Irresistible?"

"Not what I was expecting."

He rose from where he was still seated. "Lois?"

"No. Definitely not what I was expecting. I was thinking you were  going to tell me about some girlfriend you caught in bed with  another man. Or maybe an embarrassing childhood story. But  not..." She made some indecipherable gesture in his general  direction. "...that."

"So is that good enough blackmail material for you?" he asked.

The question seemed to bring Lois back to earth. "Umm... it's...  why, Clark?" she asked. "I mean, I've watched Cat throw herself  at you for months. Not to mention Antoinette Baines and Toni  Taylor. Hell, I suspect that if you wanted to, you could be in  bed with Mayson Drake tonight. So..." She shrugged, obviously not  understanding the reasons behind his abstinence. "Are you waiting  for marriage?"

"I'm not saying there haven't been times... I mean, I've had...  opportunities, but..."

"I never doubted that. I mean, you're a sweet, good-looking guy.  I can't believe you haven't had more than your fair share of  women wanting you to take them to bed."

"Lois, to me, making love is... or at least it should be...  special. I wanted to wait until I was in love. And I wanted to  make sure first that she knew about me... everything about me."  He repeated the last phase for emphasis. He took a deep breath  before voicing his final thought. "You are the woman I've been  waiting for."

Her eyes got wide before she suddenly looked away. "That's a lot  of pressure."

He used his hand to bring her face back so that she was again  looking at him. "There's no pressure. None whatsoever. Lois, I  waited nearly thirty years to find you. I can wait as long as you  need me to."

"And what if I'm... no good? I mean, what if you waited all those  years and then I don't... satisfy you?"

He burst out laughing.

"It's not funny, Clark," she said, stamping her foot slightly to  emphasize her words.

"Lois, it's very funny."

"It isn't!"

He stopped laughing. She was obviously serious about this.  Claude. It had to be. Given what she'd told him so far, she must  have it in the back of her mind that she did something wrong in  the bedroom that somehow drove him away. "Okay, well, here's what  I think. No one is born good in bed. No hear me out," he said  when she looked as if she was about to correct him. "You are the  most passionate woman I've ever known. You can get passionate  about an award winning story or not having enough milk for your  coffee. You're in great shape. You have a fabulous body." He took  a moment to run his eyes appreciatively down her body to  emphasize his point. When he again met her eyes, she was  blushing, telling Clark that he'd made his point.

"You throw yourself into everything you do with total abandon,"  Clark continued. "And you've got a great imagination - you  couldn't make the leaps of logic you make if you didn't have a  great imagination. When you finally fall completely in love, you  won't have any problems figuring out how to make things work in  the bedroom." He paused. "Besides, I'm a virgin. It's not as if  I'm likely to be all that great my first time. But I'm willing to  learn." He took her hands. "If we ever do... you know, we'll  figure it all out together."

He paused before adding. "So... will you go out with me? Just a  date... you know, to see how it goes?" Then he waited, his heart  in her hands, for her to make her decision. It was the longest  thirty seconds or so of his entire life. He'd laid everything on  the line. She knew every one of his deepest secrets. Now it was  up to her whether to reject him or accept his invitation.

He was shocked at her response.

"I've got a better idea," she said, reaching out to grab his  lapel with both hands. Once she had the material in her closed  fists, she pulled him to her.

He groaned when her lips found his. It was unlike anything Clark  had ever experienced - even with Lois. A kiss of pure desire. He  responded in kind, pulling her into his arms as lips sought lips,  tongues sought tongues, hands found their way through hair and  over backs. Lois' arms slipped around his neck as she began  backing them up. A moment later, they were tumbling together onto  the couch.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois was completely content as she cuddled further into Clark's  arms as they sat on the couch, watching the end of an old movie  on television. Her thoughts had left the movie some time ago as  she allowed herself the luxury of getting lost in the way it felt  just to lie in Clark's arms.

She wasn't sure she'd ever had a more perfect evening. When they  had finally come up for air after what was easily one of the  longest kissing sessions Lois had been involved in since she had  lost her virginity years ago, both she and Clark had been  completely disoriented. What had amazed Lois more than anything  else was the way Clark had seemed completely content with simply  kissing her, touching her hair, tasting the skin of her neck,  exploring every contour of her face - and allowing her to do the  same to him. Yet never had he pushed the edges of the envelope.  If he had, Lois wasn't entirely sure she would have stopped him.

In many ways, kissing Clark had laid to rest a lot of Lois' fears  about being intimate. She'd discovered that under Clark's touch  and kiss, she could respond - probably more than she was  completely comfortable with at the moment. Making love to him  wasn't going to be the problem. Now waiting until they knew it  was right... that could prove to be a tad bit more difficult.

What had interrupted them from spending the entire evening just  kissing was that Lois' stomach started to growl. At first, she'd  been worried that he'd be upset. But instead of seeming upset,  Clark had laughed, telling her that it was his fault since he'd  reneged on his promise to feed her. And immediately, he had  proceeded to do just that.

Clark hadn't been boasting about his cooking abilities. She  wasn't sure she'd ever had better tasting fettucine alfredo. And  the dinner conversation... Their talk had flowed easily between  topics, never an awkward moment. And not once had they talked  about work.

He had answered every question she'd asked about Superman - at  least those questions to which he had answers. She was amazed by  how much he didn't know about his roots. He had even shown her  the globe he had found during their investigation of Jason Trask.  She felt really bad when she found out that his ship had also  been in that warehouse - but had disappeared when Trask had moved  all the relics being held there.

She was slightly surprised to discover that she wasn't really all  that upset that he hadn't told her about Superman. After all, as  he had pointed out, having a secret identity wasn't much good if  one told people about it. And she was certain she had been on the  verge of working it out for herself. After all, did he really  think she wasn't already suspicious of his excuses for running  off all the time? It would only have been a matter of weeks  before she would have figured it out anyway. Or, she was certain,  he would have realized that she needed to know and would have  told her.

He'd asked her why she hadn't yelled for Superman while fleeing  from Muscle Head and Grey Eyes. She thought she had detected hurt  in his voice when he'd asked the question. She hadn't been able  to give him a really good reason, either, except that everything  had happened so fast. Running as fast as she could towards the  Lexor. The pain and shock of being shot. By the time she'd  thought to yell, it was already too late. She felt a small smile  tug at her lips as she recalled the intensity in his voice when  he'd attempted to impress upon her that he would always do  everything in his power to protect her and that she should never  hesitate to call for him. It was sweet - in an over-protective,  macho, totally unnecessary way, of course.

He'd also managed to get her to open up about what it was like  growing up as a Lane. At first, she'd been leery of giving him  that information - afraid that it would somehow diminish her in  his eyes. He already knew, of course, that her relationship with  her father wasn't the greatest. But somehow he'd managed to get  her to open up about her mother - and in particular what it was  like living with an alcoholic mother. But not once did he make  her feel as if she was in need of pity. She wasn't sure how he  did it - caring but not pitying. It was one of the things she  loved most...

Love. The word sort of hung in the air for a moment before  settling in Lois' mind. Since he'd found her in Dimitri's house,  Clark had told her he loved her several times. She'd heard that  word before, of course. Claude had used it on more than one  occasion - although, when she thought about it now, it was always  in the foreplay stages of their relationship. Clark had used it  without, it seemed, any real expectations - not even of her  returning his feelings. And given the fact that twice in the past  twenty-four hours he had put himself between her and a loaded  gun, it was hard to simply dismiss his claim.

But did she share those feelings? Her mind drifted back to when  they had emerged from the cave to be confronted by Dimitri. When  she'd realized from Clark's reactions that Dimitri must have  kryptonite on him, her reaction had been automatic - she had to  get Dimitri away from Clark at any cost. Her fear for Clark had  eclipsed any fear she had for herself. At the time, she hadn't  thought about why she was doing it, but sitting here now,  listening to the quiet noise of the television in the background,  she knew why she had done it - the thought of losing him  terrified her. Was that love? Maybe. She honestly couldn't say  that she knew what the word meant well enough to know if she was  in love with him.

On the other hand, lying here now, his arms wrapped around her,  she'd never felt quite this content - or excited. She closed her  eyes, pushing all these confusing thoughts out of her mind. Right  now she was just going to enjoy where they were - not worry about  what might come tomorrow. It was a new concept for her. It also  felt inexplicably... right. She felt his arm tighten briefly  around her as he leaned close enough to kiss her hair.

She closed her eyes and was asleep in less than a minute.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 27

"Lois."

The movie had ended almost fifteen minutes ago. But it wasn't  until now that Clark was willing to disturb Lois. It just felt so  good to hold her in his arms while she slept against him. Her  soft snoring was completely adorable. Not that he would ever tell  her she snored, of course. She'd tear him into little strips.  'Yeah, and you'd love every minute of it.' He grinned, silently  agreeing with the voice in his head.

Still, she couldn't spend the night curled up against him. She'd  be so sore in the morning. And they had the sting operation  against Church tomorrow morning. So as tempting as it was to let  her sleep in his arms...

"Lois," he said a little louder.

She stirred slightly, mumbling something he couldn't understand.

"Lois, it's time for you to go home. Come on. I'll call you a  cab."

He moved, trying to get out from under her. Her fists balled  themselves into his shirt and she adjusted positions, kicking her  legs up over his, as if to hold him in place as she snuggled more  completely into his chest. He glanced at her face and thought he  detected just the hint of a smile pull at the corners of her  mouth.

He closed his eyes. She really didn't know the meaning of  fighting fair.

"Lois," he said again. "You can't spend the night like that.  You'll be sore in the morning."

"..on't care..."

He shook his head slightly. "You don't care? Try telling me that  tomorrow morning when you can't turn your head without pain."

She made no response and he heard her breathing begin to deepen.  Sighing, he finally slipped one arm under her legs and placed the  other around her back to hold her against him. The only  indication she hadn't gone back to sleep was that her arms  slipped around his neck. Standing up carefully, he carried her  into his room.

It took him a few minutes to get her settled in his bed. His  powers were still not back. Otherwise, he'd simply fly her back  to her apartment. But without them, this was the best he could  do. He suspected that two doses of kryptonite in such a short  amount of time was why his powers seemed to be taking longer to  come back this time.

When he finally got Lois settled, he stroked the hair back from  her face and watched for a moment before backing away.

"Don't go."

The simple, softly whispered words seemed to echo in Clark's  mind. There was nothing he wanted more than to sleep next to her,  but did he dare? She wasn't exactly awake. Did she really know  what she was asking of him?

His self-control completely crumbled when, without opening her  eyes, she pulled back the covers in a clear gesture for him to  join her. He quickly turned off the lights and crawled in beside  her. He smiled when she cuddled up against him. Given the hell  he'd been through in the past week, he had to admit this felt  like heaven. He would give almost anything to fall asleep like  this every night for the rest of his life.

* * * * * * * * * FRIDAY * * * * * * * * *

Lois wasn't entirely sure what was going on. One moment she'd  been curled up against Clark's chest, settling into the regular  pattern of sleep. Now there was yelling, things breaking, loud  voices. She was fully awake the instant she heard a gunshot.

"Clark!" she yelled.

In the dark, she could just make out Clark in a desperate  struggle with another man. Grunts of pain and exertion. The sound  of bodies crashing into furniture. As her eyes began adjusting to  the light, she realized the other man seemed to have the upper  hand. After the ease with which Clark had carried her to bed last  night, she'd been convinced his powers were returning. But with  every successive punch, Clark seemed to be getting weaker. But  that made no sense unless...

Lois gasped when a beam of light coming through the window lit up  the other man's face for no more than a second. Dimitri. She  scrambled out of bed. He must still have the kryptonite on him.  That would explain why with each second the fight was becoming  more one sided. He must have snuck in here at some point during  the night. And Clark must have woken up, seen him and that was  when the fight had ensued.

A gunshot. She'd heard a gunshot. Dimitri must have brought the  gun in with him. But where was it now? It didn't appear to Lois,  although she couldn't be sure in the dimly lit room, that either  man was now in possession of the gun. Maybe if she could locate  that...

Her thought was cut off when Dimitri's fist connected with  Clark's face, sending Clark flying into his chest of dressers  from where he collapsed onto the floor, no longer moving.

"Clark!" Lois yelled, scrambling across the floor towards him  unable to think beyond the need to be sure that he was alive. It  was only when she reached his unmoving form that she realized her  mistake. By going for Clark, she'd given Dimitri time to find the  gun.

His sinister laugh directed Lois' attention back to the man who  now had her in the sites of his gun. He was moving closer. She  heard a small moan coming from Clark. All she knew for sure was  that she had to get Dimitri, and the kryptonite he was carrying,  away from Clark. Rising slowly to her feet, she began backing  away, forcing Dimitri to follow, praying there was enough space  in the small apartment to allow her to get Dimitri far enough  away from Clark so that he would recover.

"So it looks like it's just you and me now," said Dimitri. "Just  like it was the night I pulled you out of the dirty water of  Hobbs Bay. I saved your life. And this is the gratitude you  show."

Lois flinched as Dimitri kicked Clark on his way past.

"You let them kill my brothers. You made me a fugitive. Is that  how you show gratitude?"

"Hey, don't blame this on me," said Lois. "I'm not the one who  thought it was a good idea trying to manipulate Superman." Maybe  if she kept him talking, she would buy enough time to think of a  plan. But only one thing came to mind - and for the first time,  she knew it would do no good. She couldn't yell for Superman.  After all, Superman was currently lying unconscious on the floor  of his apartment.

"Speaking of Superman," Dimitri said, continuing to follow her  slow retreat across the room, "I warned him about what would  happen if he involved the police. I told him I would kill you."

Okay, so maybe this was the one she wouldn't survive. But if he  was only after her, maybe Clark would be all right. She'd be okay  with that. She continued to back away, stepping into the archway  which separated bedroom from living room.

"And for some reason, he chose to ignore my warning. And that's  why I'm here. So I guess you'll have only Superman to thank for  your death."

He raised the gun. This was it. Second chances had now run out  for Lois Lane. Even cats had only nine lives. And she was fairly  certain she had passed nine lives years ago. She closed her eyes,  although not entirely sure why, as she waited for the shot which,  as she recalled all too clearly, would be accompanied by blinding  pain.

Bang.

It was over. She was dead. Suddenly, she opened her eyes in  confusion. She wasn't dead. That loud noise had not been  accompanied by any sort of pain. So what had happened?

It took her a moment to realize that Dimitri was on the floor,  scrambling for his gun. She didn't have time to think - only act.  She spotted the gun lying between them and dove for it. Grabbing  the gun and cradling it against her, she allowed her body to roll  until she was looking at Dimitri, pointing the gun at his now  frozen form.

"Trust me. Nothing would give me more pleasure at this moment  than pulling this trigger," Lois growled. "And if you move as  much as a muscle, that is exactly what I will do."

* * * * * * * * * *

"You know, this is getting to be a little embarrassing," said  Clark, holding the ice pack to his jaw in an effort to keep the  swelling down where Dimitri's final punch had landed. "I seem to  spend most of my time incapacitated while you fight the bad  guys."

It was probably about an hour since Lois had first held Dimitri  Rousseau at gunpoint. She had quickly directed him away from  Clark. Once Clark had recovered slightly, she'd given him the gun  so that she could conduct a search of Dimitri - under the pretext  of making sure he wasn't carrying any more weapons, of course.  Listening to his disgusting comments at the time hadn't been  pleasant, but when she had found what she was searching for, it  had been worth it. A small piece of kryptonite, about the size  someone like Wayne Irig might send to a lab for testing, was  found in Dimitri's pocket. Not entirely certain what to do with  it, and not being able to ask Clark since Dimitri was right  there, she'd flushed it down the toilet. Since Clark hadn't  exhibited any reaction to it since, she figured it was the right  move. Then together, they had tied Dimitri up and called  Henderson.

Still, although Clark was feeling a little sheepish that he'd  been unable to help more, she couldn't help but feel a little  proud of herself. Dimitri had been captured, not by the  Metropolis Police Department, not by the eccentric billionaire,  not even by Superman, but by Lois Lane with...

"Well, you helped too," Lois said, sitting down in the chair next  to him and turning it so that she could look fully into his face.  She moved his hand away from the place where he had been hit and  looked at it before leaning over and kissing it better. "After  all, if you hadn't come to, crawled over and managed to knock  Dimitri's legs out from under him, I'd have been a gonner."

"Yeah, we seem to be having a lot of close calls this week," said  Clark, his free hand coming out to gently cup her cheek. "What do  you say that we try to avoid that in the future?"

"Well, I think we have all we need here," said Henderson, coming  into the kitchen area, causing Lois and Clark to jump apart. "So  my men and I will be leaving now. Dimitri will be locked up all  safe and sound. Thanks to you two."

"No problem," responded Clark.

"After all, it wasn't like we were doing anything else at three  in the morning," Lois added.

Henderson glanced around, as if realizing for the first time that  he was at Clark's place at three in the morning and Lois was  there. When he again looked back at Lois and Clark, both their  faces were beat red.

"Well, as long as you didn't have anything else better to do,"  said Henderson, laughter dancing in his eyes.

"No! That's not... I mean we weren't..." Clark began.

"No. Of course not," said Henderson, before giving Lois a wink  and turning to head towards the door.

"I'm going to kill him," Lois mumbled behind him.

Henderson had the good sense to wait until he was outside before  allowing himself to laugh - although both Lois and Clark were  still able to hear him.

"I'm sorry, Lois," Clark said immediately. "I didn't think..."

Lois' kiss shut him up. When she pulled back, she spoke. "It  doesn't matter, Clark."

"But..."

She placed her fingers over his lips. "It doesn't matter," she  repeated, emphasizing the words.

"Oh," Clark responded, understanding the significance of what she  was saying. "I love you, Lois Lane," he whispered.

She smiled before leaning in to kiss him once again.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois clicked on the send button and leaned back in her chair, a  self-satisfied smile on her face. It was barely two o'clock in  the afternoon and already she'd sent their day's story to Perry.  It had been a good day. A productive day.

After the sting operation, Bill Church Jr. had been arrested on  charges of trying to blackmail a public official, obstruction of  justice and even accessory to murder after the fact. Bill  Henderson had warned that they had insufficient evidence to  charge him with the murder of the call girl or for Lois' shooting  - even though they suspected he was behind both. Even the charges  they had laid were likely to result in no more than a slap on the  wrist for Church, if that. After all, his lawyers were already  screaming 'entrapment.' Still, they now had a pretty good idea  that Intergang - a group that had been causing havoc in many  regions of the country - was linked to Bill Church. They weren't  sure of the extent of Church's involvement, or if he was the head  honcho, or even if his father knew about his activities, but one  thing was for certain. Lane and Kent were now on the case. And  Lois was certain that it was only a matter of time before they  would bring down the biggest and most elusive crime syndicate to  ever grace the country.

They even had a sidebar to their Church story - an announcement  by Congressman Harrington that, for personal reasons, he was  stepping down as the head of the Congressional Committee into  organized crime. Lois snorted. He claimed he wanted to spend more  time with his wife and kids. Only Clark's interference had kept  her skepticism out of the story. But Clark was right. The public  would draw its own conclusions. There was no need to help it  along.

Clark seemed to be feeling much better this morning. Most of the  swelling had gone down around his eyes, just leaving dark shadows  in their place. He'd even taken the bandages off his nose. She  had to admit, kissing him this morning without the bandages was  much better than worrying the entire time about whether she was  going to hurt his nose. That had been the only bad thing about  kissing Clark the previous night.

Kissing Clark. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as her  thoughts drifted, as they had been all day, to what it felt like  kissing Clark the previous evening. She could still feel every  place he'd kissed her - as if he'd somehow managed to electrify  those spots. Her fingers came up to lightly touch her lips. She  wasn't sure where the courage had come from to grab onto his  shirt and attack him like that. Not that she regretted it - not  one minute of it. But seeing him standing there, waiting for her  answer, looking so hopeful and yet so vulnerable, she'd simply  been unable to resist.

And waking up next to Clark this morning. Never in her life had  anything felt more natural. His 'it's not a dream' comment when  he'd realized that he was really holding her had left her feeling  all warm and mushy inside. She chewed on her lower lip. Lois Lane  mushy. Who would have thought such a thing was even possible?  Certainly not her.

She spotted Cat coming across the newsroom and had to fight the  urge to gloat. Cat had played every trick in the book to get  Clark - and she'd been unsuccessful. No response whatsoever. And  yet, she, Lois Lane, hard-bitten career woman, had him admitting  that he wanted to make love to her, but that he would wait  however long it took for her to be ready and had been saving  himself for her. 'Who's the ice princess now?' asked a little  voice in the back of her mind. Not her. If the way she had  responded to Clark's kisses last night were any indication, she  was more than capable of passion - a theory which she was  suddenly seriously thinking about putting to the test. The idea  of exploring all that... virgin territory... She had to stifle a  grin. Who knew she had a naughty side? Certainly not her. What  was it about Clark that was bringing out all these new feelings  in her?

What could be the explanation for these changes? She let out a  short breath when the truth hit her. She was falling in love.  That was what she'd been trying to fight when she'd first made  reservations at the Lexor - before then even. That was what her  heart had been trying to tell her when she'd had amnesia. Without  the memories which made her so reluctant to admit what was  happening between her and Clark, her feelings for Clark had been  able to penetrate all the barriers her past experiences had  erected around her heart. Now that she had those memories back...  her father, Paul, Claude ...how did she deal with this new found  knowledge?

'I'm a virgin.' Clark's admission of the previous evening came  unexpectedly into the forefront of her mind. Given the  seriousness with which Clark seemed to regard intimacy, maybe he  could be trusted with her heart. Assuming he was telling the  truth, would a man like that cheat on her? She doubted it.

Besides, in truth it already was too late to protect her heart.  If Clark turned out to be a scoundrel, if he broke her heart...  well, then that was what was going to happen, regardless of what  she did now. And if that was the case, then she might as well  enjoy the ride. And there really was no ride that compared to the  feeling of falling in love. She gave her head a slight shake, a  small smile pulling at one corner of her mouth as she finally let  go of her heart, giving it permission to take her in the  direction it seemed determined to go.

Her eyes drifted to her partner who was currently locked in the  conference room with a very distinguished looking man wearing an  expensive dark suit and a skull cap. She had no idea who the man  was, but her curiosity was driving her absolutely up the wall.  The discussion appeared to be serious as they studied something.

She was just about to get up, hoping to get a closer look without  being too obvious, when the ringing of her phone stopped her. She  quickly picked it up.

"Lois Lane," she said into the phone. As she listened to the  caller, a slow smile made its way across her face, an idea  beginning to take hold. Her eyes drifted back to Clark. Perfect.  This was absolutely perfect.

* * * * * * * * *

A disaster. That was the only way Luthor could find to describe  it. An absolute disaster. He'd found Lois Lane. He'd flown her  back to Metropolis. He'd put her up in a hospital room teaming  with beautiful bouquets of flowers. He'd showered her with  attention. He'd even put up with her mother. And yet, if his  source inside the police station was correct, she had spent the  night at Clark Kent's apartment. Not even Superman's but Clark  Kent's. Could this day get any worse?

"What is it, Nigel?" Luthor practically snapped when he heard his  aid enter the room.

"I've just received a bit of news I thought might cheer you up,  sir."

Luthor gestured for the man to continue, although seriously  doubting Nigel could say anything that would make him feel the  slightest bit better.

"Well, it seems Lane and Kent think Bill Church Jr. is involved  in some shadowy crime organization known as Intergang."

Luthor finally turned towards the older man. "Really?"

"Yes. In fact, they blame him for the shooting of Ms. Lane a week  ago. And, after some elaborate sting operation, actually managed  to have Junior arrested for accessory to murder. I suspect we  might not have to worry about Lane and Kent for quite some time  since I have no doubt they will be concentrating the majority of  their efforts on uncovering the activities of our competition."

A smile appeared on Luthor's face. "Uhh... Well, you know what  they say, Nigel. Deos fortioribus adesse."

"Quite right, sir. The gods are on the side of the stronger."

* * * * * * * * *

Clark shook Moishe Weissman's hand as the two men stood waiting  for the elevator to arrive.

"Thanks again," said Clark.

Weissman nodded. "It was a pleasure. And I'm sure she'll love  that."

Clark glanced down at the small, black velvet ring box he was  holding. "I'm sure she will. It certainly is beautiful."

"Sht, sht," Weissman said, directing Clark's attention to where  Weissman was looking just in time to see Lois coming up the steps  to where he and Weissman were standing.

He quickly stuffed the ring into his pocket. He smiled when  Weissman nodded his approval.

"Lois, I'd like you to meet Moishe Weissman. He's the diamond  dealer I told you about."

"Oh, the one who helped Superman cash in all those diamonds in  order to raise the ransom for me. It's a pleasure to meet you,  Mr. Weissman."

"Please, it's Moishe," Weissman said. "And it's good to meet  you." He gave Clark a nod of approval.

Just then the elevator dinged. Lois and Clark said their final  goodbyes as the doors slid closed, taking Weissman out of the  newsroom.

"So what did he want?" Lois asked as casually as possible.

"Oh, not much. He was just wanting to be sure everything turned  out all right."

"Hmm... You two were certainly in the conference room for a long  time just to be telling him everything turned out all right. I  mean, look at us? It probably took you... what? Three seconds  maybe to tell me that everything turned out all right," Lois  said, heading in the direction of the coatrack.

"Do you have to know everything?" asked Clark.

"Absolutely - so spill." Lois took her coat off the rack and  handed it to Clark.

He took it, automatically helping her slip into it. "Are you  going somewhere?" he finally asked.

"Nope. We are. Perry just signed off on the story. And since  we've had a hard week, he told me that we should get out of  here."

"Fine by me." Clark picked up his own jacket and slipped it on.  "So... are we going anywhere special?" he asked. "Or is this just  your run of the mill getting off work early day."

"Well..."

Clark glanced over at Lois, noticing that she was pushing a  strand of hair behind her ear and suddenly looking a little shy.  "Lois?"

"I just got a call from the Lexor. They felt really bad about  someone breaking into my room while I was staying there."

"And?"

"And they offered me the suite again this weekend - for free."

"Lois, please tell me you're not going to spend another weekend  relaxing. 'Cause I'm not sure I can take another week like this  past week."

"No, silly. We're going to spend the entire weekend relaxing."

"We?"

Lois nodded.

"As in you and me?"

Lois nodded again.

"In the honeymoon suite?"

Lois finally laughed, linking her arm through his. "Well, only if  you think you can put up with me for an entire weekend, Mr.  Kent."

Clark smiled. He wasn't entirely sure what she had in mind. And  he wasn't about to make any assumptions. But an entire weekend  with Lois... He was fairly certain he could handle that.  Besides... His hand played with the ring box in his pocket. ...it  was entirely possible that Lois wasn't the only one who might  have a trick or two up her sleeve this weekend.

Maybe it was a little too soon to be asking her to marry him. But  if he'd learned one thing over the course of the past week, it  was that life was too short not to go after what one really  wanted. And he wanted Lois. He wanted her as his partner, his  best friend, his confidante, his lover and his wife. Besides, it  wasn't as if he wasn't prepared to be patient. If she wasn't  ready to marry him this weekend, he'd just try again next  weekend. And, if necessary, the weekend after that. She'd give in  eventually. He felt a soppy smile settle on his face.

"What's so funny?" asked Lois.

He grinned at her. "Nothing. I'm just thinking that the future  suddenly seems so... alive with possibilities."

And it did. He was suddenly certain that nothing, except perhaps  for an asteroid destroying the entire planet, could spoil his  good mood. But what was the chance of that?

* * * * * * * * * THE END * * * * * * * * *

ENDNOTES:

'Deos fortioribus adesse'. Tacitus, The Histories (117 A.D.)

Table of Contents

Curiosity Killed the Reporter

Part 01

Part 02

Part 03

Part 04

Part 05

Part 06

Part 07

Part 08

Part 09

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27