Without A Superman (Clark Kent's Quest)

By: ML Thompson <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>

Rated: PG-13.

Submitted: January 2004

* * * * * * * * *

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. Special thanks go  to the writers of the following episodes: 'Meet John Doe,'  'The Green, Green Glow of Home' and 'Chi of Steel.' For  complete disclaimer, go to:  http://www.thompsonlawoffice.ca/Disclaimer.htm

My thanks to my Beta readers, Gerry, Carol and Irene for  their assistance with my story. As usual, they saved me  from making a fool of myself. And my thanks to the people  on the Fanfic Message Boards for answering all of my silly  questions. And finally, my thanks to Tricia Walpole for her  assistance in editing this story for the archives.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 01

A silver Jeep Cherokee with the vanity plates 'LL' swerved  through traffic, coming to an abrupt halt directly in front  of the Daily Planet building. Inside, a good looking, dark  haired man leaned over to give the woman driving a slow  kiss.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" the man  asked when the kiss broke.

The woman raised her hand and lightly stroked his cheek as  she responded. "I'll be fine, Clark. It's just a few tests.  I'll be back in about an hour. Just tell Perry I'll be a  little late."

"Lois..."

"Go."

Clark looked at her closely before sighing and turning  towards the door. He stopped when his wife put her hand on  his arm, directing his attention back to her.

"I'll be fine, Clark," she repeated before leaning towards  him again.

He seemed to have no problem understanding her subtle hint  and leaned in himself for a final kiss. A moment later, he  opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, closing the  door behind him. He cringed when the vehicle screeched away  from the curve and back into traffic, causing the momentary  sound of horns to fill the air.

Shaking his head slightly, Clark turned towards the front  entrance of the Daily Planet.

"Help, Superman!"

Clark spun towards the sound of the voice. It was coming  from a nearby alley. Looking around for a place to change,  he spotted a phone booth near the alley. Not seeing another  option, he ran towards it. It was only a second later when  a 'whoosh' sounded as a streak of red and blue exited the  phone booth and headed towards the alley.

His eyebrows furrowed the moment he entered the alley. It  was an odd sensation, as if he had flown through a wall of  water. And instantly, the scenery around him changed. He  came to an abrupt halt in mid-air as he took in the  unexpected surroundings. Where was he?

Slowly, he floated to the ground. He seemed to be standing  in the middle of a wheat field.

"What?" he asked in confusion. If he didn't know better,  he'd swear that he was in Kansas. But that couldn't be.  Could it? No. That was crazy. He glanced around again,  trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He reached down  and plucked a stock of wheat out of the ground. It  certainly appeared to be real. But how was that possible?  How could he have been flying into an alley in Metropolis  to execute a rescue one minute and the next find himself  standing in a wheat field in Kansas?

The wall of water? He had flown through what almost felt  like water. Did that have something to do with where he was  now? The sensation of flying through that wall had been  strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place the  feeling.

He looked up when something in the corner of his eye caught  his attention. It was odd, a tremor in the air followed  by... He reached out his hand and caught a paper which was  suddenly floating to the ground. He turned the single page  over in his hands feeling his blood turn to ice water when  his eyes captured the headline on what was obviously the  society page of the Daily Planet.

'Pulitzer Prize Winning Journalist, Lois Lane, To Wed  Billionaire Businessman, Lex Luthor.'

He checked the date. June 16, 1998. It was yesterday's  newspaper but it made no sense. Lex Luthor had been killed  over two years ago when the underground tunnel had  collapsed during Luthor's attempt to kill him with a  quantum disruptor. Besides, Lois was married to him - Clark  Kent. And he was absolutely positive he would have heard if  Lois had won the Pulitzer. That wasn't the type of news his  wife would likely keep to herself. She would be yelling it  at the top of her lungs from the roof of the Daily Planet.

Still, the paper in front of him announced to all the world  his worst nightmare. Lois was marrying Luthor. A nightmare!  Suddenly, everything made sense. Somehow he had fallen  asleep and this was all a nightmare. That had to be it. All  he had to do was find a way to wake up. The only question  was - how?

"Wake up!" he told himself firmly, closing his eyes,  crunching them tightly together. Taking a deep breath, he  opened them, determined he was going to discover that he  was in his own bed with his wife sleeping peacefully beside  him. He let the breath go when his eyes were again open and  he was still in the wheat field.

He glanced around. Everything looked pretty real for a  nightmare. So how did he go about proving his hypothesis?  Struck by momentary inspiration, he pinched his arm - hard.  Yes! That proved it. It didn't hurt to pinch himself. Then  his eyebrows furrowed as he studied the unblemished skin of  his forearm. He was invulnerable. It never hurt when he  pinched himself. He snorted. Never before had he thought of  this complication to having superpowers. He had no way to  know if he was dreaming.

But what else could it be? If he wasn't dreaming, where was  he? What had happened? Had he somehow gone back in time?  After all, there was a time when Lois had been about to  marry that animal. He examined the paper again. No. It  showed yesterday's date. He hadn't moved in time. So what  was happening?

Maybe he was having some kind of mental breakdown. But why  now? Everything had been relatively calm for the past  couple of weeks - both for Clark Kent and Superman.

He glanced around again, trying to come up with a better  explanation. He spotted a brick chimney rising above a  cluster of trees in the distance. And where there was a  chimney, one was likely to find a house. Maybe they could  help him. Not being sure where he was and not wanting to  risk anything, he decided it might be best to make this  trip as Clark Kent rather than Superman. He quickly spun  back into his Clark clothes. If he were losing his mind,  he'd rather do it quietly as Clark Kent than have it  splashed all across the front page as Superman.

Folding up the society page of the paper, he stuck it in  his inside suit jacket pocket and took off at a jog in the  appropriate direction.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark stared silently up at what he had identified as a  chimney. It was, in fact, the only part of the house still  standing. It was quite obvious that the main part of the  house had burned to the ground years ago. The growth of  plant life that had taken over the house was testament to  that fact.

He looked around, wondering what to do now. Maybe there was  still something here that could tell him where he was -  although he seriously doubted that it would shed any light  on how he came to be here. He spotted a mail box hanging by  a single nail from a post near the road. Making his way  over, he set the mailbox upright and scraped away the dirt,  taking an automatic step back when he read the name.

"It can't be," he breathed. But there it was. As big as  life. 'The Kents.'

He spun around and looked at the remains of the house once  again. His breathing became heavy as he began to recognize  the layout. His legs wobbled slightly as he slowly made his  way back towards the house. It was his parents' house.  There was no mistaking that fact. When he got to where the  front porch had been, his legs seemed to give out beneath  him and he collapsed to his knees.

What had happened to his world? Lois was marrying Luthor.  His parents house was now nothing more than an overgrown  pile of ashes. Everything that he cherished was being taken  from him. There was only one hope left. His parents. Maybe  by some miracle they had escaped this tragedy. Keeping that  thought firmly in his mind, he rose to his feet. So how did  he find out what had happened to his parents?

Wayne Irig. Surely Wayne would know. He took off at a jog  in the direction of the Irig farm. Maybe it was just the  house that had burned down. Maybe his parents were okay.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark waited impatiently for Wayne to open the door.

"Can I help you?" the older man asked.

Clark stood there for a moment, waiting for some sort of  recognition. He fumbled with what to say next when the  blank look on Wayne's face told him that the man didn't  know who he was.

"Umm..." Clark began, struggling through the shock of this  realization to find the words he needed. "I was just  looking at the Kent farm next door and was wondering if you  could tell me what happened."

Wayne furrowed his eyebrows as he considered the request.  "Why?" he finally asked.

"Wayne? Who's at the door?" called a woman's voice from  inside the house, saving Clark from answering the question.

"I don't know. Someone who wants to know what happened to  the Kent farm," Wayne called back.

"Well, don't just stand there letting in flies. Invite him  in," the voice continued as a woman stepped into view.

Clark's jaw nearly hit the floor. Helen Irig. Wayne's wife.  But she had died when Clark was in his teens.

"I'm sorry about my husband," Helen said, pushing past the  older man. "Sometimes he doesn't remember his manners.  Won't you come in?"

Her husband gave a small snort but let the shell-shocked  Clark Kent step into the house.

"I'm Helen Irig and this is my husband, Wayne. And you  are?"

"Me?" Clark asked, trying to wrap his overloaded mind  around the question. "Umm... I'm Cl... Dan. Dan Scardino."

"Please make yourself comfortable," Helen continued,  gesturing him into the living room.

"Well, Mr. Scardino..." Wayne began as they sat down.

"Please, call me Daniel," Clark responded, cringing almost  the instant the words left his mouth.

"Daniel," Wayne corrected. "I'm not entirely sure what to  tell you. It's been a long time since anyone has asked  about it. At the time, of course, and for months after it  happened, it was really all that anyone here could talk  about."

"I think people were in such a state of shock," Helen  interrupted, taking a seat beside her husband. "Things like  that didn't happen back then. Especially in a place like  Smallville."

"What happened?" Clark asked, desperate to have them get to  the point.

"They never found the men, so it's hard to say for sure,"  Wayne responded.

"You know how small towns are," Helen added. "No facts. So  everyone has their own theory."

Clark almost felt like grabbing these people and shaking  them until the story came out. Instead, he opened and  closed his fists as he attempted to be patient. But it was  difficult. These were his parents they were talking about.  Why couldn't they just get to the point?

"It all started the night of the big lightning storm,"  Wayne began.

"Now, honey, you don't know if that has anything to do with  what happened," Helen interrupted.

"I know it. I know it in my bones," Wayne objected.

"What happened during the storm?" Clark asked, hoping to  get them back on track.

"Well, it was a bad one. Lights went out all over the  county. Anyway, a bolt of lightning struck an old tree out  in our back yard."

"The sound was unreal," Helen added. "It almost sounded  like a bomb exploding."

"I ran out to check on the tree, to make sure it wasn't on  fire. After all, it was so close to the house that a fire  there could have spread very easily. And it had been so dry  that summer that..."

"What happened when you went to the back yard, Mr. Irig?"  Clark asked, finding it harder and harder to be patient.

"The tree had fallen over," Irig explained. "I didn't  notice it at first. But when I did see it..." His voice  trailed off when he saw the expression of anxiety on the  face of the young man seated across from him. "The  overturned tree revealed a large green crystal. I had never  seen anything like it and thought it might be worth  something. So I sent a piece of it to a lab in Metropolis."

"A week later the place was crawling with government  people," Helen continued.

Suddenly, Clark had a queasy feeling in his stomach. This  story was starting to sound suspiciously familiar.

"When was this?"

Wayne looked at his wife. "I don't know. About twenty years  ago."

Clark's mind was spinning. He would have been about ten  during the time that Wayne was talking about. Was it  possible that for some reason Trask had shown up when he  was ten, looking for that damn rock? But that made no  sense. Surely his parents would have mentioned that when  Trask had shown up in Smallville a few years ago. True,  Trask had almost killed him and his family, had even tried  to burn down the barn with his family inside. But Clark had  been twenty-seven at the time. And Trask had been stopped.  Rachel Harris had killed him. So it wasn't as if after that  incident Trask could have found a way to go back in time to  accomplish then what he had failed to do later. So what was  this all about?

"What happened then?" Clark asked, his heart pounding  loudly in his ears.

"Well, I took the rock over to the Kents - you know, to get  Jonathan to hide it for me. There was something about those  government men that I didn't trust. Anyway, a couple of  days later is when it happened."

"What happened?"

"The Kents' house was burned to the ground. By the time we  arrived - I was a member of the Smallville volunteer fire  fighters - all three of the Kents had been killed -  Jonathan, Martha and their son, Clark."

"The FBI took over the investigation . They said that the  fire had been intentionally set and that all three Kents  had been deliberately trapped inside the house. They never  caught the men who did it," Helen added. "It was a  nightmare. Apparently, the fire had burned so hot that when  it was over there wasn't even enough left of the bodies to  put in coffins."

On the last word, the world suddenly began to spin. Clark  fought for breath as he began struggling to rise to his  feet. All he knew for sure was that he had to get out of  there now. As he stumbled towards the door, he was vaguely  aware of the Irigs asking if he was all right. He wasn't  entirely sure how he responded as he pushed open the door.

Once outside he began to run, increasing his speed once he  was out of sight of the Irig farm. And then he was flying,  spinning into the superman suit in mid-air.

There was only one place he wanted to be. Home. He  immediately headed at full speed towards Metropolis.  Towards Hyperion Avenue. Towards Lois.

Arriving at home, he was disappointed to discover that the  lights were out. Letting out a breath of regret, he headed  for the bedroom window, the one window they always left  unlocked for quick entrance or exit by Superman. He felt  confused when he discovered it was locked. After taking a  moment to figure out what to do next, he landed in a nearby  alley and spun into his Clark clothes before heading  towards the brownstone on foot, digging his keys out of his  pocket as he approached.

When he arrived at the door, he sorted through his keys,  looking for the appropriate one. But when he tried  inserting the key in the lock, it didn't work. He looked at  the keys, making sure it was the correct one before trying  again.

"Can I help you?" asked a voice behind him.

"Umm... No. I'm just trying to get inside," Clark responded  when he saw the little old lady who lived down the street.  "I seem to be having a problem with my key," he continued,  looking down at the small piece of metal.

"Are you sure you're at the right place?" she asked.

Clark glanced back at the woman. Of course, he had the  right place. What was she...

"You do know that this is Veda Doodson's place," she  continued.

"Well, it was but..." His voice trailed off as a new and  disturbing thought sunk in. According to the Irigs, Clark  Kent was dead. What if... No. The newspaper clipping. He  and Lois weren't married. This wasn't their house.

He glanced over his glasses and into the familiar building.  Only it wasn't his and Lois' furniture he found. His  breathing became heavy.

"Lois," he whispered, as it began to sink in that he really  had lost everything. His parents. His wife. His home.  Everything.

Muttering a quick good-bye to the woman who was staring  oddly at him, he headed back into the alley. A moment  later, he was airborn.

So what now? Lois. Maybe she was still living in her old  apartment. A quick flight over her old apartment building  told him that she was not living there either. He even  tried swinging over the Daily Planet but still there was no  sign of Lois.

Having nowhere else to go, he headed back to Kansas. In a  few minutes, he was standing, looking at the ruins of his  parents' house in the moonlight. What had happened to so  drastically change his world? Had someone gone into the  past and changed things? That must be what had happened. It  couldn't have been Trask. He was dead. But someone must  have gone for him.

But if that was the case why couldn't they just have left  him dead, too? He'd lost everything in his life that was  important to him. Why did they have to bring him back to  rub his face in it?

He looked around, noticing that the barn seemed to have  survived the fire. It, too, had been taken over by nature.  But it was still mostly intact. He made his way over to the  familiar structure, pushing open the door. It creaked on  its hinges, something his father would never have allowed  had he still been alive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside. In the half light  of the barn, he could see a flashlight sitting by the door.  Picking it up, he switched it on, surprised when a beam of  light emerged from the end. Someone had obviously been here  recently. The battery would be dead in a twenty year old  flashlight.

He ran the beam around the empty building, finally  directing the light to the loft. There were some old  blankets up there. He suddenly understood. The kids of town  were undoubtedly using the old barn as a place to make-out.  Still, there didn't seem to be anyone here tonight. He  floated up to the loft.

He sat down on the scattered hay, looking out the window at  the dark night. His mind drifted back to the time that he  and Lois had christened the hayloft during one of their  visits to his parents. Closing his eyes against the pain  caused by that sweet memory, he leaned back into the straw,  pulling one of the ratty blankets around him, and drifted  off into a restless sleep.

* * * * * * * * *

Superman landed with Andrus on the balcony of the hotel  room being used by President-elect John Doe, aka Tempus.  Setting the other man down, he marched into the room where  he saw Tempus sitting alone in a straight-backed chair.

"It's over, Tempus," Superman announced.

"Is it?" Tempus responded.

Superman looked over his shoulder as, behind him, Andrus  threw a small device, about the size and shape of a cell  phone into the air. Suddenly what looked like a door  appeared, with a surface that resembled a wall of water. A  time window.

"Walk through or be dragged through. Makes no difference to  me," Superman said, crossing his arms over his chest and  looking at Tempus determinedly. "Either way, you're going  back."

Tempus rose from his chair and looked blankly at Superman,  as if not completely understanding what was transpiring.

"Have you nothing to say?" asked Andrus. "No remorse?"

"What would you have me say?" asked Tempus.

"It's just as well," Andrus responded. "Superman." He  nodded his head at Superman who immediately stepped  forward, grabbed Tempus by the jacket and stepped with him  through the wall of water into the time window. Suddenly,  the man he had believed to be Tempus disappeared.

"What? No!" gasped Andrus.

"Superman!" came Lois' desperate cry from the doorway as  she struggled to get in past the secret service men.

"Lois, get out! Now!" Superman yelled.

"No," said the real Tempus, storming past the men holding  Lois Lane. "Let her in. She should see this." And  immediately, Tempus headed for the time window, hitting the  side and sending Superman spinning towards eternity.

Superman reached out in a last ditch effort to touch his  wife as she strained towards him. Their fingers barely  touched before he was hurled out of time and away from her  forever.

Clark sat straight up, his eyes wide with horror. "Lois!"  he screamed as the dream began to fade from view. He panted  heavily as he realized it was a dream. It was all just a  dream. He crashed back down from where he had been  floating, expecting to feel the soft bounce of the mattress  beneath him. He was stunned when he felt hard boards break  his fall. Glancing next to him to where Lois should have  been, he suddenly realized that it hadn't all been a dream.  He was still in the loft of his parents' barn, beside their  burnt out house. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to  give in to despair, leaning back into the straw once again.

Suddenly, he again sat straight up. That was it. The wall  of water. He had gone through a time window, just as he had  when John Doe had trapped him in a moment of time. That's  why flying through that wall of water today had felt so  familiar. He was the one who had gone through some sort of  time window - not Trask, not someone on Trask's behalf.  But... That still didn't explain the changes. He hadn't  gone forward or backwards in time. The date on the Daily  Planet attested to that. So did the age of Wayne Irig. He  wasn't noticeably older or younger than he had been the  last time Clark had seen him. But that made no sense  unless... Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks. Tempus  must have adjusted the time window to take him into an  alternate universe - just as Tempus had done previously  with the time machine built by H.G. Wells.

He let out a slow breath. He was in an alternate universe.  In his universe, his parents were alive. In his universe,  Lois was his wife. There was only one problem.

"How do I get back to my universe?" asked Clark into the  silence of the barn.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 02

As the first rays of morning sunlight began hitting the  Metropolis skyline, Tempus, known to this universe as J.D.  Templeton, stood looking out... or perhaps, it would be  more accurate to say 'over' the city from his office on the  top floor of Templeton Towers. He narrowed his eyes as he  watched the distant construction taking place on the top of  Lex Towers.

When he had built Templeton Towers, he had purposely built  it one floor higher than Lex Towers, making it the tallest  building in Metropolis, and had reveled in the idea that,  while not literally the case, Lex Luthor would have to look  up to him. And that man... He narrowed his eyes and glared  at the construction. It appeared that once again Luthor was  determined not to be outdone. Some sort of tower was now  being added to the other building.

Playing second fiddle to Lex Luthor was certainly not what  Templeton had in mind when he chose to settle in this  universe after his escape from the insane asylum. He  thought back to that time. It had been a simple plan. That  fool janitor he had talked into helping him fake his own  death. His reconstruction of the faulty time window in  which he had trapped Superman. Searching universes for  months, looking for one without a Superman - or perhaps  more importantly, without a Clark Kent since Kent could  always become Superman. So when he had finally found this  universe, one where Clark Kent had been killed when he was  about ten, Templeton had known that he had finally found a  home. A few simple trips to steal gold and diamonds from  alternate universes and he had been all set.

There was only one problem Templeton hadn't anticipated.  Clark Kent, and his obsessive love for a certain female  reporter, had been the main force behind the fall of Lex  Luthor. And without him, this universe's Lex Luthor  continued to thrive. Not that dealing with Luthor was  anywhere near as bad as dealing with that over-grown boy- scout. Still, it was annoying to have Luthor always  thwarting his plans. Just last week Templeton had lost out  on being voted 'Metropolis' Man of the Year' to that  second-rate crook.

To top that off, this universe's Lois Lane seemed  completely taken in by Luthor's image. And without a Clark  Kent to put doubt in her mind about the man... She seemed  to think Luthor was the second coming, or something. But  that wasn't the worst part. Luthor had discovered a two- fold benefit to keeping a reporter with the reputation of  Lois Lane in his pocket - or was that his bed? Either way,  not only did she seem to be leaving Luthor's business  interests alone, but she also had to be getting her tips  against Templeton's business enterprises from somewhere.  Luthor was the logical source.

It wasn't until Templeton had seen last night's story on  the society page of the Daily Planet that the plan had  struck him. It had been so simple, so utterly perfect that  he had surprised himself with his own brilliance. Even now,  thinking about it had the power to bring a smile to his  lips.

He had found himself thinking that it was almost too bad  that this universe's Clark Kent had been killed when he was  ten. Almost. But not. Still, there had to be a way to rid  himself of this world's Lex Luthor. Of course, he could  always just kill the man. But where was the fun in that? He  had needed something creative, something only he could come  up with. Something... ironic.

Templeton absently traced the rising tower on the top of  Luthor's building on the window with his finger. His finger  hesitated and then came to a stop and a slow smile made its  way across his face as he reflected again on the method he  had chosen to solve his Luthor problem. Clark Kent. He only  needed Kent in this universe for a short time - which meant  finding one who wouldn't want to stay around long-term. And  since he had known just where to find such a Clark Kent and  just how to get him to come...

"Help, Superman," Tempus said in a mock voice.

Instantly, he clamped his hand across his mouth  dramatically. Those were not wise words for him to utter  until Clark Kent was safely back in his own universe. It  was almost too bad that he couldn't stop by the Kent farm  to say hello. After all, it was always good to see old  friends. But if Kent saw him, he might be distracted from  his mission - to bring down Lex Luthor. After all, it was a  given that Clark Kent would find a way to intervene in  Lois' upcoming marriage to that man - well, unless he found  a way back home, of course. That meant that until his  assignment with Luthor was over, Templeton would have to  keep a low profile.

Templeton smiled. It was absolutely the perfect plan. Bring  Kent to this universe. Give him the article about Lois'  marriage to Luthor. It was only a matter of time before  Kent did what Templeton needed him to do. He just needed to  sit back and watch. Using his ultimate number one nemesis  to bring down his biggest competition.

"God, I love irony," Templeton said.

He was brilliant. Absolutely, indisputably brilliant.  Luthor might not know it yet, but the man was history. A  small, unremarkable footnote to history. And then, the  first thing Templeton was going to do was to buy Lex Towers  and tear down every brick of that damned building.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark stood nervously on the corner across from the Daily  Planet, uncertain if he should risk going inside. He had  spent the morning looking for the time portal he had come  through and had found absolutely no evidence of it. He felt  as if he was out of options. He couldn't discuss this with  his parents. That left only one person who could  potentially help him get back to his own universe.

The problem was that he clearly recalled hearing the  details of his Lois' adventure in the other universe. In  some ways, her visit had been a blessing. After all, until  she had come along, alt-Clark had been hiding his  abilities, ashamed of his origins and not knowing what he  could do to change that. On the other hand, if he had never  met her, he might have been happy, or at least content,  with Lana. Meeting Lois had left him grieving the loss of a  Lois he had never even met. Clark couldn't even begin to  imagine the pain that must cause his alternate self.

Of course, Lois had become convinced a few months ago that  alternate Clark had found his Lois. Clark wasn't sure that  it wasn't wishful thinking on her part. But he supposed  that it was possible. After all, the Lois Lane of that  universe had been 'lost' in the Congo - not officially  declared dead. That wasn't the case in this universe. Here,  Clark was dead. Given that fact, was it fair of him to  insert himself into Lois' life - for even a brief period of  time? What if she fell for him? Not likely, given the  length of time it had taken his Lois to fall for him. But  did he really have the right to take that risk?

He was about to turn away, determined to find another way  home, when he saw Lois step out of the Daily Planet.  Instinct instantly took over. He was about to raise his  hand and call to her when a long, black limousine pulled up  in front of the building. The door opened and out stepped a  man who made the hair on the back of Clark's neck stand on  end. Lex Luthor. He felt the bile rise in his throat when  the man leaned in and gave Lois a kiss before the two of  them crawled back into the car.

He watched in stunned silence as the car pulled away from  the curve and back into traffic, carrying Lois away from  him.

He stood, oblivious to his surroundings for a moment before  he remembered the newspaper article in his pocket. He  pulled it out and looked at it again. 'Pulitzer Prize  Winning Journalist, Lois Lane, To Wed Billionaire  Businessman, Lex Luthor.' He had to stop it from happening.

"No!" he said. This wasn't his universe. For all he knew,  this universe's Lex Luthor was a good man. He had no right  at all to interfere in events. He just had to concentrate  on finding a way home.

But how? He looked at the Daily Planet building. He needed  to find Tempus - after all, Tempus was the most likely  suspect for his abduction. He had hoped to talk to Lois  Lane. After all, if anyone in this universe knew about  alternate universes, it was probably Lois. But since she  was out... wherever, he would just have to figure this out  for himself.

Okay, so he couldn't talk to Lois. Was there anywhere else  where he might find the information he needed? He looked  skeptically at the Daily Planet. It was a long shot. On the  other hand, what other choice did he have? Taking a deep  breath, he crossed the street and entered the Daily Planet.  He was headed towards the elevator when the sound of a  voice stopped him.

"Can I help you?" asked a security guard.

"Yes. I'm looking for Perry White?"

The man's eyebrows rose. "You're looking for the President  of the United States here?" he asked.

Clark was definitely caught off guard. Perry had certainly  done well for himself in this universe. He wasn't sure why  that surprised him. Perry would make a great Commander-in- Chief. And Perry's run for Mayor in an alternate Metropolis  certainly indicated that Perry harbored some latent  political ambitions.

"He hasn't worked here for at least five years," the guard  continued.

"So who's the editor?" Clark asked, wishing he'd taken the  time to find an old newspaper so that at least he would  know who was who in this new universe.

"Ms. Henderson," the security guard responded.

"Henderson?" Clark asked, searching his mind for a woman  named Henderson who might have worked at the Daily Planet  at some point in his universe. He was unable to come up  with someone. That probably meant it was someone he didn't  know. Still, she could grant him access to the Daily  Planet's records.

"Okay," continued Clark. "Would it be possible for me to  meet with Ms. Henderson?"

"Could I have your name, please?" the guard asked.

"Clark Kent," Clark responded.

The guard kept his eye on Clark while making his way to an  in-house phone. He placed a quick call before telling Clark  that Ms. Henderson would meet with him in about half an  hour.

"That would be great," Clark responded. "Do you think it  would be all right if I just waited here?" he asked,  gesturing towards some chairs sitting in the corner.

When the security guard nodded, Clark picked up a copy of  the current paper which was lying nearby and took a seat,  skimming quickly through the paper while he waited. He  slowed down when he came across yesterday's story by Lois  Lane. He raised his eyebrows as he read the scathing expose  she had done on an electric company owned by one J.D.  Templeton. It seemed that the electric company was  artifically inflating its expenses in order to increase its  rates and, thereby, its profit margins.

He searched his memory for any recollection of a J.D.  Templeton in his own world. When he was unable to recall  the name, he dismissed the matter. After all, each universe  was different. For example, most people in his world would  have no idea who Jimmy Olsen was. On the other hand, in the  alternate universe Lois had visited, James Olsen owned the  Daily Planet as well as a major computer software company  and was probably known by most of the movers and shakers.

"Mr. Kent, Ms. Henderson will see you now," the guard said,  gesturing him towards the elevators.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to find  when he entered the office he thought of as Perry's office.  But it certainly wasn't what he did find. It seemed that  Ms. Henderson was a woman he knew well - although not as  well as she had led people to believe.

Cat Grant. But how had she become known to this universe as  Ms. Henderson? And how had she become the editor of the  Daily Planet? He supposed given Cat's specialty - gossip -  the Daily Planet might hire her as the editor if the paper  had begun to specialize in yellow journalism. No. The  articles he had read in today's version of the Daily Planet  had been of excellent quality.

Still, the surprises didn't end there. Gone was the  ostentatious sex-kitten who had graced the halls of the  Daily Planet during the first year he had worked there.

Ms. Henderson removed her reading glasses as she rose from  behind the desk and extended a hand towards him, her form- fitting professional business suit and confident demeaner  giving her the air of a woman in charge. Short,  professionally styled hair replaced the flamboyant  hairstyle Clark had known her to wear.

"So what can I do for you, Mr. Kent," Cat asked while  grasping his hand in a firm handshake.

"Umm... Well, it's just..." His voice trailed off as he  marveled again over the differences in the woman before  him. "I was just wondering if you would mind if I spent a  few hours going through your morgue files."

"And why would you need to see our morgue files?" she  asked, obviously trying to decide whether or not to grant  his request.

He smiled at her. It couldn't hurt to flirt with her a  little. After all, he was well aware that women had a  weakness for his smile. And given the way Cat had been all  over him the entire year they had worked together... His  smile faltered at her resulting frown. He was shocked when  he realized that she knew exactly what he had been trying  to do.

"Why would you need to see our morgue files?" she asked  again, this time much more suspiciously.

"I'm writing a book," he responded while giving her a look  that he hoped conveyed his apologies. "Part of it takes  place at a newspaper and I'm wondering what the morgue  might look like. That and to do a little research into your  back issues."

She hesitated, obviously weighing his words carefully  before looking over his shoulder and shouting, "Jimmy!"

Clark turned around and let out a breath of relief to see a  familiar looking face in what appeared to be a familiar  job.

"Yes, Ms. Henderson?" Jimmy asked, appearing instantly in  the doorway.

"Would you show Mr. Kent our morgue? I've authorized him to  do some research."

"Yes, Ms. Henderson," Jimmy responded, turning to Clark and  giving him a friendly smile. "If you want to come with me,  I'll take you there," he said. Clark gave Cat a grateful  smile before turning to follow Jimmy.

It was only a minute or so later before Jimmy led him  through the door of the morgue.

"So what do you do here?" Clark asked as Jimmy gave him a  quick tour of the morgue.

"I'm a researcher at the moment. But some day I intend to  be a world famous photographer."

Clark smiled. It was a relief to see that some things  hadn't changed.

"Look, I'm pretty good with the computer. If you need any  help just call for me," Jimmy said.

"Thanks, Jimmy," Clark responded, feeling better than he  had since waking up this morning. There was just something  so comforting about meeting Jimmy and having him, at least,  act normally.

Then he turned his attention to what he was looking for -  any information about Tempus, H.G. Wells, alternate  universes or time travel. The sooner he was able to return  home the better.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 03

Clark glanced up at the clock on the wall, feeling more  than a little frustrated. He had arrived at the Daily  Planet shortly after noon and it was now almost seven  o'clock in the evening. He was glad when the woman in  charge of the morgue finally left, giving him an indulgent  smile when he had asked if he could continue his research.  It was so much easier using his superpowers when no one was  around to oversee.

Still, he had now looked everywhere he could think and was  no closer to finding a solution than he had been when he  had arrived. There was no mention of Tempus, H.G. Wells or  time travel in the Daily Planet. He had discovered,  however, that his computer terminal had internet access, so  he had continued his search there.

H.G. Wells was indeed a writer in this universe who had  lived between 1886 and 1946. However, he hadn't written  science fiction novels. He had written romance - quite  steamy stuff, too, judging by the outcry at the time. As  for alternate universes and time travel, there appeared to  be some speculation on the subject but no real scientific  advancement that would help him get home. As for Tempus,  there was no mention of him at all.

So where did that leave him? In the middle of a strange and  hostile universe with no idea what to do next.

"Who's there?" called a familiar female voice into the  dungeon where Clark was doing his research.

He froze. Did he answer? Did he hide? What would she say if  she found him there? It suddenly occurred to him that all  he had to do was stay calm. She didn't know who he was. And  he did have Cat Henderson's permission to be there. He was  just a writer doing some research. And maybe he could even  use this as an opportunity to pick her brain a bit - see if  she might have ever encountered Tempus or alternate  universes. After all, he and his Lois had never written up  their experiences with alternate universes in the Daily  Planet - primarily out of fear that they would be locked up  in the looney bin if they did.

"It's okay," Clark yelled, having reached his decision.  "Ms. Henderson gave me permission to do some research."

And suddenly, there she was. Standing not more than ten  feet in front of him. And it was one of the oddest  sensations Clark had ever experienced. His heart did a  slight flip. Until this moment, he hadn't understood the  strange connection his Lois felt to the alternate Clark. He  was staring into his wife's eyes - but not. It was more  than simply meeting Lois' twin. It was like meeting Lois -  but not.

"Who are you?" she asked, giving him a quick once over.

"Uhh... I'm Clark Kent," he said, rising automatically to  his feet and extending his hand.

"Have you seen Jimmy Olsen around here?" she asked,  ignoring his hand and looking around for her quarry.

"No. Not since shortly after..." His voice trailed off when  she began to walk away. "Ms. Lane, I'm a big fan of your  work," he said, not wanting her to leave.

The words had the desired effect, causing her to turn  around and look at him again. He let out a breath of  relief. His Lois was also susceptible to praise for her  work. And given the fact that he had, during the afternoon,  also managed to read everything this Lois Lane had written  over the course of the past year, the words were not merely  empty praise. He was impressed. It was no wonder that this  Lois Lane had won the Pulitzer. He felt a brief stab of  guilt. Had his relationship with his Lois prevented her  from winning the Pulitzer herself?

"I particularly liked your piece on the unseen victims of  drinking and driving," he continued. "It wasn't your usual  style, though. Not quite as hard hitting. But I was truly  moved by how you managed to convey the loss felt by friends  and family, not only of those who are the victims of a  drunk driver but of the drunk drivers themselves."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "My mother died when she  got into a car after drinking. My dad was completely  devastated by her death. He committed suicide shortly  afterwards. So I guess the subject matter hit a little  close to home."

"I'm so sorry," he responded, surprised by how easily she  had opened up to him while at the same time feeling as if  she had kicked him in the chest with the news of her  parents' death. "Are you okay?"

She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a  minute. He looked down, wondering what he might have given  away with his eyes.

"It was a long time ago," she finally responded. "Anyway, I  really should get going. So you haven't seen Jimmy?" she  asked again.

He shook his head. "Do you really have to go?" he asked.  "I'm doing some research and I could really use your help."  He held his breath as he waited for her response.

"I'm sorry. I have plans tonight," she said.

"Luthor?" The question was out of his mouth before he had a  chance to stop it, along with, he was certain, an edge to  the single word that communicated quite clearly how he felt  about the man.   She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. He quickly looked  at the papers on his desk, as if to organize them.

"If you have something to say, say it," she finally  snapped.

"No. No. Nothing," he quickly responded.

She studied him for a moment more before turning and  heading out of the room. He closed his eyes and let out a  breath. It had all been going so well. If only he had kept  his feelings about Luthor to himself, she might have agreed  to meet with him sometime tomorrow to discuss his  situation. After all, tomorrow was Saturday so she would  likely have had some time to give him. Now... Luthor. He  might not know the Luthor of this universe, but he still  couldn't help but dislike the man.

He lowered his glasses and watched as Lois made her way  back to the newsroom. Then, reaching over, he shut down his  computer. There really was nothing else for him to do. He  had run out of ideas about how to get home. And it wasn't  as if he could go out and have a nice dinner, or stretch  out in front of a T.V. or even curl up in a comfortable  bed. After all, he suspected that the small amount of money  he had in his wallet would be worthless in this universe.  And it wasn't as if he could use his bank card or his  credit cards. He could only hope that the hayloft in his  parents' old barn wasn't being used by teenagers this  evening. It was a good thing he didn't need to eat.

He stretched out with his enhanced senses, searching one  last time for Lois. She might not be his Lois, but it was  still comforting to hear her heartbeat. Then he heard  something else. The voice of a man he had hoped never to  hear again.

Well, there might not be anything he could do to get home  at the moment, but maybe he could at least find out if this  Lex Luthor was worthy of Lois' love. And if he wasn't...  Well, Clark wasn't entirely sure what he would do then. But  at least he owed it to his own wife to make sure her  counterpart in this universe was safe.

He repowered the computer and began pulling up everything  he could find about Luthor over the course of the past year  - he could do a more complete search afterwards if  necessary.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois felt completely off balance when she fled from the  Daily Planet's morgue. She hoped that the man... Clark  Kent, wasn't it? ...hadn't noticed how anxious she had been  to leave. But there was something about him that made her  feel completely out of her depth. It was something about  the way he looked at her - especially when she told him  about her parents. It was almost as if he felt her pain.

And then there had been the tone in his voice when he had  said her fiance's name. It had almost radiated... contempt,  as if he had been referring to meat that had spoiled some  time ago. It was the first time she had heard anyone use  Lex's name in that manner. Not everyone liked Lex. But she  didn't think she knew anyone who didn't at least respect  him. It was... disconcerting. Part of her wanted to storm  back down to the morgue so that she could demand to know  what Kent was keeping from her, what he so obviously hadn't  wanted to tell her about Lex.

'Or is it just that you thought he was cute and want to get  lost in those eyes for a few more minutes?' a small voice  in the back of her mind asked.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she exclaimed.

"About what, darling?" asked Lex's voice from behind her.

She pasted a smile on her face and turned around. "It's  nothing," she said as dismissively as she could. "Just  thinking about a story." She leaned in and automatically  kissed him when his arms went around her.

He pulled back again to look in her eyes. "A ridiculous  story?" he asked, his voice light but his eyes searching.

Suddenly, she felt unexpectedly crowded. "Yeah, a  ridiculous story," she said, moving up onto her tiptoes to  give him another quick kiss, before ducking down to slip  beneath his arm. She gathered her purse and jacket from her  desk and headed towards the elevators, simply expecting him  to follow. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that he  was.

"So didn't you promise me an evening at the opera?" she  asked lightly, slipping her arm through his when he finally  caught up to her.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark set down his notes and leaned back in his chair, deep  in thought. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the Luthor of this  universe was the upright guy he was portraying himself to  be. He shook his head slightly, almost unable to believe he  could be having such thoughts.

He recalled a comment Luthor had made when he had kidnapped  Clark's mother. Luthor had said something to the effect  that if he had had a loving mother like Martha, maybe he  would have turned out to be a better man. Of course, he had  immediately gone on to be thankful that he hadn't. Maybe  his words had been more accurate than Clark had realized  when his mother told him about the conversation. After all,  this Luthor's parents had lived until Luthor was in his  thirties.

Still, he had a hard time picturing Lex Luthor as anything  other than a sanctimonious bastard who used and abused  people whenever and wherever it suited him. Not that Clark  was biased or anything. He gave a small snort and turned  his attention back to what he had discovered which was  making him question his natural assumptions about Luthor's  character.

In Clark's universe, there had been signs that Luthor was  not above board long before the truth had come out. It  wasn't anything that could be used to convict the man, but  it was still always there, just out of reach - like an itch  you couldn't quite scratch.

A good example of that was the pheromone compound - where a  researcher paid by Lex Luthor had infected the staff at the  Daily Planet with a potion which, according to Lois, made  everyone loony-tunes in love. Although Luthor had been the  one to warn Superman about Miranda's plan to infect all of  Metropolis with the potion, thereby allaying any suspicions  about Luthor's complicity in her plan, the man had still  funded and obviously been well informed about Miranda's  research.

The same could be said for so many of the other criminal  activities in Metropolis during Clark's first year at the  Daily Planet. Whether it was employing two 'jumpers' who  had been testing Superman's abilities, or funding a  scientist who turned out to be experimenting on children  with an intelligence potion, Luthor always seemed to be in  the background, just out of reach of the justice system.

The same couldn't be said for this Lex Luthor. In fact, in  this universe, the man who had that honor appeared to be a  man named J.D. Templeton. Clark tapped his pen on the desk  for a couple of minutes, trying to find a rational  explanation for his discovery. Suddenly, he had a crazy  idea.

"Nah. It couldn't be," he said as he returned to his  research, moving through it at superspeed, making notes and  rereading certain articles. When he was finished he sat  back and stared at the trend he had discovered.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the article about  Lois' engagement to Luthor. Skimming the content, he  discovered that Lois had been dating Luthor for the past  year. Still, it couldn't be. He turned his attention back  to the computer and began researching stories which had  been written before Lois and Luthor had become involved.  Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. The only  question was whether Lois knew what was going on or not.

"Okay," he said softly, deciding that the only way to put  what he had discovered into perspective was to voice his  thoughts. "Templeton is the one always in the background  when a crime is committed these days. But that hasn't  always been the case. Before Lois got involved with him,  Luthor was the one who always seemed to be in the  background. So either Lois is covering for Luthor or... or  Luthor is using Lois, somehow directing her attention away  from his own indiscretions to focus on Templeton."

Okay, so maybe he didn't know this universe's Lois Lane at  all. But he couldn't quite see her covering for her  boyfriend. That left only one other possibility: Luthor was  using Lois.

A small muscle in Clark's jaw began to twitch. The man was  an animal - in any universe. But knowing what was happening  and proving it were two entirely different things - a  lesson he had learned the hard way in his universe. And  then there was the other problem. How did he get Lois to  see the truth? If she was anything like his Lois, she  wasn't exactly going to be open to the idea. He knew that  from personal experience, too. After all, Lois was fiercely  loyal to those she considered friends.

He leaned back in his chair. It had been four years since  he had fallen out with his Lois by confronting her about  Luthor. But he knew a heck of a lot more about her now than  he had then. So how did that help him now? Could he use his  knowledge of his Lois to convince this Lois that Luthor was  dangerous?

A slow smile made its way across his face as a plan began  to form. He had been kicking himself for letting his  feelings about Luthor show earlier this evening. But now...  he could even use that if he worked it right. Of course,  his Lois would never have been taken in by this plan, but  only because of how well she knew him. This Lois didn't  have that advantage.

He needed some inside information. And given the limited  time he had to pull this off, he was going to have to take  a few chances, but no more so than he often did when he and  Lois were investigating a story. And desperate times did  call for desperate measures.

He quickly turned off the computer. Then he stashed his  notes in the janitor's closet and opened the window. It  could be helpful to be able to get back into the building  without being seen if additional research was necessary and  the window seemed the logical solution. Without changing  into the brightly colored suit, he took to the sky. There  was no Superman in this universe and he would be less  obvious in his street clothes. It was only a couple of  minutes later before Clark was standing on the darkened  balcony of the penthouse suite at Lex Towers.

* * * * * * * * *

"I think that was just about the finest performance of  Madame Butterfly I've ever seen," said Luthor as he and  Lois made their way through the streets of Metropolis in  the back of the limousine.

"Mmm," Lois responded.

"Thinking about that ridiculous story again?" he asked  after another moment of silence.

"Hmm?" she asked, turning her attention to him for the  first time since leaving the theater. Why did he have to  keep bringing that up? What was it - the third time since  they had left the Daily Planet? No. It was the fourth.

"You might feel better if you talked about it," he  suggested, picking up her hand and lightly kissing her  knuckles. He tucked her arm under his before placing their  joined hands on his knee.

She gave him a smile, although her heart wasn't in it. She  had come up with the 'ridiculous story' excuse because she  hadn't wanted to tell him what she had really been thinking  about. After all, how could she possibly explain to him  that she had been thinking about how attractive another man  was? Not that she had been doing anything wrong. After all,  she wouldn't be human if she didn't notice a good-looking  man. It wasn't as if she was going to do anything about it.

But that wasn't what was bothering her. She was bothered by  the number of times Lex had brought the subject up. Had he  always asked so many questions about her work? Or did he  know that she was lying?

How could he know that she was lying? Besides, so what if  he knew the truth? Okay, so she had met an extremely...  moderately! ...moderately attractive man. And she had  noticed. It was nothing more than that. Certainly nothing  worth all these questions.

"It's nothing, Lex. I told you that before," she responded.  "It was just a crazy thought."

"I like crazy thoughts," he responded. "Come on. Humor me.  What's this ridiculous story you came across today?"

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked, wishing more  than anything that he would let the subject drop. It had  been hard enough trying to get that gorgeous... semi-good- looking guy out of her mind as it was, without Lex bringing  up the subject every two minutes.

"It's not. I just had a bad day and thought it might take  my mind off things to hear about your ridiculous story."

She let out a breath, leaning closer to place her chin on  his shoulder. "I just don't feel much like talking about  work tonight either, Lex," she said softly.

"Hard day?"

She nodded slightly.

"And I've been pushing," he continued. "Sorry."

She closed her eyes and let out a breath of relief, hoping  that would be the end of it.

"Uhh... We're here," he said.

She opened her eyes and saw where the limousine had  stopped. They had ended up back at Lex Towers. She thought  he was taking her home.

"I hope you don't mind," he said as if reading her  thoughts. "I didn't want the evening to end just yet. Will  you come up for a little while? Of course, if it's too  late, I can always have Richard drive you home."

She smiled. "I guess I could come in for a little while,"  she responded. She was rewarded by a genuine smile from her  fiance.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 04

Clark looked over his glasses, watching the tumblers on  Luthor's wall safe fall into place. There had to be  something in here that would open Lois' eyes to the danger  Luthor represented.

"Breaking and entering with intent," he muttered under his  breath as the last tumbler fell into place and he heard the  click which told him the safe was unlocked. He stepped back  and grasped the handle, turning it and pulling open the  door. "Dwelling house. Aggravating circumstances. Maximum  penalty: ten years in prison," Clark muttered.

He looked inside the safe, his eyebrows instantly going up.  There was a small black pouch which a quick glance over top  of his glasses informed him contained diamonds. There were  piles of thousand dollar bills with elastics wrapped around  them. Clark shook his head slightly.

Unable to resist, he leaned in to take a closer look at the  bills. He didn't think he had ever seen a thousand dollar  bill up close before. His eyebrows shot up when he realized  that there was a picture of Amelia Earhart on the bill. He  didn't know who was on the thousand dollar bill in his  universe, but he seriously doubted it was Amelia Earhart.

He shook his head as he considered how many piles of the  bills there were. It was probably more money than he would  see in a lifetime. Maybe he should just...

"Nah," he said, turning his attention to what had led him  to open the safe. The papers. Documents of some kind. Why  would Luthor keep documents in here unless he wanted to be  certain that no one saw them?

Okay, so maybe they were important financial documents,  like Luthor's will or power of attorney. But somehow Clark  suspected that Luthor's lawyers would have all of that  stuff. Either way, Clark would know in a minute.

Pulling out the papers, Clark realized that he was holding  some kind of schedules. A closer examination revealed that  they were shipping schedules, for ships arriving in  Metropolis harbor from overseas. But why would Luthor keep  shipping scheduled in his safe? Unless... Was Luthor  importing some sort of illegal goods - drugs, perhaps? He  quickly memorized the time on the first ship - 'The  Alexander.' It was scheduled to arrive in Metropolis in a  couple of hours.

"Suspicious, no?" Clark asked his absent partner. He smiled  when he could almost feel her elbow him in the ribs.

A further inspection of the documents revealed that over  the course of the next month, there were other ships  arriving. The next one was arriving tomorrow night. In  fact, all of the ships were scheduled to arrive in the  middle of the night.

"And the plot thickens," Clark continued.

He was about to look at the next piece of paper when he  realized that there was noise coming from the area outside  the penthouse. Glancing over his glasses, he saw Lois and  Luthor stepping off the elevator.

"Time's up," Clark said, stuffing the papers back in the  safe. "Thank you for playing this version of Breaking and  Entering. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not  collect two hundred dollars."

He wished he had more time, but for some reason, he felt  positively giddy about what he had found with just an  evening's work. This was big. Every reporter's instinct he  had told him that. It was obvious that this Lex Luthor  wasn't prepared for a super sleuth. Super Sleuth. What a  great name? Maybe he should suggest to this universe's  Clark Kent that... He shook his head. What was he thinking?  The Clark Kent of this universe was dead.

He took off, leaving the balcony door closed behind him and  landed on the roof of Lex Towers. It was unbelievable how  much easier this investigation stuff was when Luthor wasn't  expecting him. There had been no alarms or cameras on the  balcony. And none of the walls were coated with lead based  paint. Heck, the balcony door hadn't even been locked.  There were definite advantages to being in a universe  without a Superman.

* * * * * * * * *

"So can I get you a drink?" asked Luthor, taking Lois'  jacket from her. He handed her jacket along with his own to  a man Clark recognized. Nigel St. John. Clark watched while  Nigel proceeded to hang up both jackets.

Nigel made his way to the fireplace and built a fire while  Lois headed for the couch and Luthor went to the bar. It  only took a minute for Nigel to get a nice fire going.

"That will be all, Nigel," Luthor said dismissively, when  Nigel had finished.

"Yes, sir," Nigel responded, backing slowly from the room.  "Have a good night, sir, miss," Nigel concluded before  dimming the lights to give the room a romantic glow,  stepping outside the penthouse and closing the door.

"So how about that drink, darling?" Luthor asked again when  they were finally alone.

"I don't think so, Lex. I had two glasses of champagne at  the opera. A third one and I'm going to get positively  tipsy."

"There's nothing wrong with getting a little tipsy once in  a while," Luthor responded, making his way over to a bar,  opening a bottle of champagne and pouring two glasses.

He walked back and held one out to her. She looked at it  for a moment before letting out a breath and accepting the  glass. He sat down on the couch next to her, his arm  resting on the back of the couch behind her shoulders.

Suddenly, Clark felt incredibly uncomfortable. He really  should go and check on the ship scheduled to arrive in  Metropolis tonight. Sitting on the roof of Lex Towers,  watching the interaction between Lois and her fiance was  not only pointless, it was just plain wrong.

Besides, he wasn't sure he could handle it if... He refused  to allow that thought to run through to its logical  conclusion. And just because his Lois hadn't been intimate  with Luthor didn't mean this woman felt the same way. He  looked away from the penthouse towards the docks. He really  should be there to take a sneak peak in that ship when it  arrived. Maybe he could figure out Luthor's latest scheme.  Finding the shipping schedules in Luthor's safe was a good  start, but he still had a lot of work to do before making  his move.

"Please, Lex. We've talked about this."

Her words drew Clark's focus back on the penthouse just in  time to see Luthor mauling his wif... No. She wasn't his  wife. He forced himself to unclench his fists, but couldn't  seem to take his eyes away from the drama taking place  below his feet.

He sent up a silent cheer when Lois pushed Luthor away and  got up from the couch.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois felt Lex's eyes on her as she struggled to convince  the skirt on her form-fitting black evening dress to  slither down her legs from where he had managed to push it  up. Not wearing panties in order to keep seams from showing  tonight had definitely not been a good idea. It had made  his job so much easier. It seemed that every time they were  together lately he got more and more insistent.

"I don't see what we're waiting for," Lex finally said.

"You know how I feel about this," she responded.

"Right," he replied, the sarcasm in his voice taking her by  surprise. "You're mother got pregnant with you when she was  a teenager and had to marry your dad. You always wondered  if she would have been happier if she had waited and so you  decided when you were in your early teens that you would  wait until you were married to have sex." The final two  sentences were delivered in monotone, as if he were reading  a script for which he felt little or no passion.

"But you are not your mother," he continued, his voice  animated once again. "And you are not in your teens. And I  am not some boyfriend who you've been dating for a couple  of weeks. We've been together for over a year now and we  are getting married."

"There's a difference between getting married and being  married," she responded immediately.

"Then set a wedding date," he demanded. "Please. Let me  know exactly how long I'm going to have to wait. Six  months? A year?"

"Lex, please," she begged. "You know how important this is  to me."

"Fine!" Luthor snapped, rising from the couch and making  his way behind the bar once again to pour himself something  stronger than champagne.

She stood, silently watching as he emptied the glass. Maybe  he was right. Maybe it was time for her to let go of that  last barrier between them. They were to be married, after  all. Besides, she knew Lex's reputation. It wasn't as if he  were used to waiting where women were concerned. If she  kept him waiting too long, wasn't she basically inviting  him to stray?

Letting out a slow breath, she came around the bar and  wrapped her arms around him. He stayed tense for a moment  before responding, finally pulling her to him.

"Let me think about it?" she asked.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes for a moment before  his seemed to soften.

"You have to understand," he finally said. "I'm a man. And  it's different for men. One need only look at the animal  kingdom to recognize that. Take the buck, for example.  Instinct dictates that they fight for the right to mate  with the females in the herd - in order to ensure that only  the strongest of the species propagate. Monogamy is not  expected among the male members of the herd. In fact, it  isn't even an option if the herd is to thrive. After all, a  doe can only bear one calf every year. Whereas the  strongest buck can sire as many calves as there are females  in the herd.

"Man might have learned to curb those instincts, but  they're still there. Monogamy is unnatural enough, but  abstinence... Besides, Lois, I'm not a boy. I'm a man. I've  been sexually active for a long time - longer than it's  been since you made that promise to yourself.

"We agreed to be exclusive... what? Eight months ago now. I  promised you that I wouldn't see other women. I was happy  to make that promise. I love you. And I only want to be  with you. But it's time for you to give a little in  return."

'Which is a round-about way of saying that you're horny,'  Lois' mind immediately responded even if she kept that  thought to herself. Instead, she nodded. After all, maybe  he was right. Maybe it was time.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark felt slightly stunned as he flew off into the night  sky. This Lois was still a virgin by the sounds of it. That  meant - no Claude. He knew how much his Lois regretted her  past relationships - wished that she had waited until she  met him to be intimate. And although he wouldn't change  anything about his beautiful wife, since all her  experiences before they had met had shaped her into the  woman he loved, he wondered if this Lois knew how lucky she  had been to avoid intimacy with a man like Claude.

Why couldn't Luthor understand and respect that? Probably  because he was Luthor. And that was what Clark suddenly  became more determined than ever to prove. If he had  wondered whether this Lois was somehow covering for her  boyfriend's sins, he no longer had that concern. There was  no way the woman he had gotten to know a bit better tonight  was involved in Luthor's crimes. In that way, she reminded  him of his Lois. They might have made different life  choices, but both were principled and had the will to  enforce their beliefs on their lives. He wondered briefly  if this Luthor had any idea what he was getting himself  into.

With that thought, he put both Loises out of his mind and  began searching the shipping routes near Metropolis for  'The Alexander.' It was more difficult when he couldn't  count on his Superman persona. After all, he really didn't  want people to see a flying man if he could help it. He  wasn't entirely sure why since it wasn't as if he had to  protect Clark Kent's anonymity. On the other hand,  introducing this world to a flying alien was not exactly  something he wanted to deal with.

He just wanted to get home - and maybe help out this  universe's Lois Lane while trying to do so.

Fortunately, tonight the overcast sky allowed him to fly in  the clouds, using his x-ray vision to conduct his search.  It took some time, since he didn't know where the ship was  coming from, but he finally managed to spot it just as it  entered Metropolis harbor.

Floating above the ship, he began a systematic search with  his x-ray vision. It was less than a minute later when he  gasped, almost unable to believe what he could see. His  stomach lurched and he gaged a couple of times. Well, at  least he now knew what was being smuggled into the country.  The only things to figure out now were Luthor's plan for  this cargo and how to lead Lois to the truth about her  boyfriend.

Going further up into the sky to clear his mind in the  colder air, he headed to the dock where the ship was  scheduled to land. He wanted to do a little snooping around  before the ship arrived in dock.

* * * * * * * * *

Luthor leaned back in his chair in his darkened office,  pressing his fingers together as he considered the  situation. After a moment, he pressed the intercom on his  phone.

"You rang, sir?" came Nigel's voice almost immediately. If  the man had been in bed, there was no hint of it in his  voice. But then there never was. If Luthor didn't know  better, he'd think the man never slept. But then that was  how he liked his employees - always on call.

"Check out everything that Lois Lane is currently working  on," Luthor informed the man.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"It's probably nothing. But she made a comment tonight that  bothered me. When I asked about it, she was evasive. Just  find out what she's working on."

"Very good, sir."

"Oh, and Nigel..."

"Sir?"

"Get me a woman for the night. A blonde preferably."

"Should I use the usual agency?"

"No," Luthor replied. "The woman they sent last week was an  amateur. Find me someone who knows what she's doing."

Rising from behind his desk, he made his way to the safe.  When it was open, he removed a stack of thousand dollar  bills and headed for the living room.

What was the ridiculous story that Lois wouldn't tell him  about? Could it be that she had found something that traced  back to him? If she had, he had to take care of it before  she could do any damage. Nigel would get the information  from his source inside the Daily Planet.

He began casually tossing thousand dollar bills into the  fire as he continued to think.

He could hardly wait until he and Lois were married. It  might be advantageous using Lois Lane to keep the public's  eye on his competition. But it wasn't worth the risk of  having her stumble across something he didn't want her to  know. Once they were married, Lois Luthor would learn very  quickly that he wouldn't tolerate having a working wife.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois closed her eyes and leaned back in the bubbles she had  added to her bath water. It was good to be home. Normally  she enjoyed the time she and Lex spent together. It was  just that tonight... All his questions about her  'ridiculous story' didn't sit well with her. She wasn't  exactly sure why.

There was one other thing that was bothering her. Clark  Kent. There was something about the way he had said Lex's  name. It had been eating at her all evening. She couldn't  quite figure out why she cared. In fact, she didn't care.  Nope. Not her. She didn't care at all.

After all, she loved Lex. That was what mattered - not what  some stranger thought. Okay, so maybe what she felt for Lex  wasn't that gaga feeling romance writers were always  talking about, but that was just a lot of hype to sell  books and promote movies. It wasn't real. And even if it  were, it wasn't something she wanted in her life.

Not that she hadn't had her school-girl fantasies about  being swept away by some knight in shining armor. But she  had outgrown that years ago. It was just as well. After  all, the world wasn't a fantasy. And she had Lex now.

Lex Luthor was perfect for her - good husband material. He  was cultured, educated, a great conversationalist, handsome  and, above all else, a great humanitarian. It seemed that  everytime she turned around, he was giving money to another  worthy cause. He had probably done more to help the people  of Metropolis than anyone else. He was a good man.

Of course, he was also an experienced man. If one believed  the tabloids, a very experienced man. That was part of the  reason she had taken her time getting to know him. He had  first asked her to marry him six months ago. It wasn't  until the day before yesterday that she had finally said  yes.

She thought back to the last time she had seriously  considered breaking her rule. Claude. She shook her head  slightly. She had been so young and she'd been completely  infatuated with the charming Frenchman. Then it had finally  happened. He'd actually asked her out. She had been on  cloud nine. She could still recall how long it had taken  her to choose an outfit that night. To her it had been the  start of a beautiful relationship. To him... Well, she  wasn't entirely sure what it had been to him. What she did  know was that when she had told him that she was waiting  until she got married to cross the intimacy threshold, he  had been gone fast enough to make her head spin.

That night she had seriously considered revoking her rule.  The next morning, however, he had been romancing another  woman at the office and that, as they say, had been that.  Since then, she had discovered some things about Claude  that made her glad that she hadn't had the opportunity to  reconsider her position. But at the time, she had been  crushed.

But Lex had made some good points tonight - not his 'nature  of man' speech, of course. As Perry would say, that had  been a load of horse manure. But Lex had said some things  which made sense to her. They had been seeing each other  for the past year. They had been exclusive for over eight  months. And they were engaged to be married. Besides, she  wasn't sixteen anymore. She was thirty. Should she really  feel bound to a promise she had made to herself when she  was a teenager? Besides, was it really fair of her to  expect him to wait until their wedding night? After all, he  had made it clear more than once that he would marry her  tomorrow. She was the one who wanted to take her time  setting a date.

She sighed, pushing the question to the back of her mind.  She could still feel the effects of the champagne she'd  consumed tonight and didn't want to make this decision  while she was still fuzzy.

She allowed her mind to drift, not allowing it to land on  anything in particular. A small smile made its way onto her  lips as a gorgeous, dark-haired man suddenly invaded her  thoughts. She could still see the wayward lock of hair that  had fallen across his forehead. In her mind, she reached  out and brushed it back in place. Her smile widened when  the stubborn lock fell back again.

Suddenly, she sat up, splashing water onto the floor. What  was she doing? The champagne. It had to be the champagne.  It was the only thing that made any sense.

Why did her mind insist on thinking about Clark Kent? He  certainly seemed opinionated on the subject of her fiance.  Not that he'd said anything, really. But in some ways, that  only made the obvious disdain in his voice when Lex's name  had come up worse. What did Kent have against Lex? If he  was around when she went into work on Monday, she was going  to demand that he tell her. He couldn't just raise  suspicions about Lex without answering her questions.

In fact, maybe she should go in tomorrow and just take care  of this. Yes. That's what she would do. That way she could  put Kent and his unfounded dislike for Lex behind her. It  had nothing to do with how cute he was, the way he had  reacted to her news about the death of her parents - why  had she told him all that anyway? - or the warmth she could  see in his eyes when he looked at her. She was just going  to find out what he had against Lex - assuming, of course,  that Kent was even at the Daily Planet tomorrow. And that  was a pretty big assumption.

She sighed softly as thoughts of her parents invaded her  mind. She wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was because  Clark looked at her much the same way as her father used to  look at her mother. At the time, she had wondered why her  father remained so devoted to her mother inspite of her  addiction. Never had she seen anyone as devastated as her  father had been when her mother died.

She suddenly found herself wondering if Lex loved her the  way her father had loved her mother. Would he stick by her  and support her no matter what - just like her father. The  way Lex looked at her had certainly never reminded her of  her father. She shook her head. That didn't mean anything.  Just because she was suddenly having irrational thoughts  about the way some man she didn't even know looked at her  didn't mean that she had to begin questioning Lex's love.

'But if you're so convinced he loves you, why won't you set  a wedding date?' asked that voice in her mind. She quickly  pushed it away.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 05

Clark squatted behind some crates as the ship docked. He  watched as three men dressed as customs agents made their  way down the docks. A man disembarked, heading towards one  of the customs agents as the other two agents boarded the  boat.

Clark waited for the outcry that was sure to follow when  the customs agents searched the boat and found the cargo.  As he waited for that moment, he tuned his hearing in to  the two men talking on the dock.

"...about time you made it," said the customs agent,  sounding a little annoyed. "In half an hour the shift  changes and I can't guarantee that I can control the next  shift."

"This isn't an exact science," the man from the ship  growled. "Winds, currents, all of that plays a role in the  time it takes to get here. In the future, I suggest you  make sure the next shift is open to being bought if  necessary."

The customs agent snorted. "So do you have my money or  not?" he asked.

"Do you have my papers?"

The customs agent pulled some papers off his clipboard and  handed them to the man from the boat. The man studied them  before removing a large brown envelope which he in turn  handed to the customs agent. Clark lowered his glasses and  quickly x-rayed the envelope. It was filled with hundred  dollar bills.

"So, do you have any bodies you need disposed of?" the  customs agent asked. "The man said you might have some."

"Three. Are you sure your men can take care of it?"

"Don't worry. They know what they're doing. Perpetual Pines  doesn't even dig separate graves. They just dump the bodies  in with bodies the city provides. So there aren't even any  graves to be discovered. It's a perfect set up."

"Nothing's perfect," the man from the boat responded. "I'll  have them send the bodies down with your agents," he  concluded, turning and heading back to the boat.

"Hey. Thank Harlan Black for me," the agent said to the  man's retreating form.

The man turned back around. "I'd be careful about throwing  names around if I were you," he hissed. "You're not  indispensable. There are always other customs agents, you  know."

The agent visibly stiffened. The man from the boat glared  at him for a moment more before turning and heading back to  the boat.

Clark began sneaking away. He now had two more leads to  check out. Perpetual Pines Cemetery and Harlan Black.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark landed on the roof of Lex Towers, horrified about  what he had discovered during his investigation of Harlan  Black and Perpetual Pines Cemetery. He had thought Black's  name sounded familiar. He just hadn't been able to place it  until he saw where the man's office was located. Part of  Clark wanted to take what he had discovered directly to the  police. But Black was his link to Luthor. Clark needed him.  He was the key to Lois discovering what Luthor really was.

No. As much as he hated it, Clark needed Harlan Black for  the time being. The goal was to expose Luthor - at least  enough so that Lois would see the truth. After all, Luthor  was an animal. There was no way Clark could allow Lois to  find herself in the clutches of that man.

Yet, in spite of his fury over what he had learned tonight,  there was another part of Clark that felt optimistic. He  now had what he needed to implement his plan which he had  named, 'Operation Scumbag.'  Now all he needed to do was to  make sure that Lois was safely away from Luthor. Then, he  was going to head back to his parents' barn for a few hours  of sleep.

He took a quick look at the roof of the building beneath  his feet. Everything appeared to be dark. Luthor must have  gone to bed. He was about to turn away when a sound coming  from the bedroom caused him to freeze in his tracks. There  was no mistaking the sound. It was the sound of two people  engaged in intimate relations.

What had he done? He should have found some way to get Lois  out of that penthouse before she stepped over that line she  had drawn for herself. She would be devastated to realize  the type of man to whom she had finally given herself. Not  only that, but she was likely to be less prepared to  believe that Luthor was an animal if she...

The thought trailed off when he, without thinking, x-rayed  the roof to Luthor's bedroom and saw... blond hair.

He snorted, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. It  took his mind a moment to register that he should look  away, but when it did, he immediately shut down his x-ray  vision.

"That bastard," Clark breathed. It was inconceivable to  Clark that Luthor could go from trying to persuade Lois to  sleep with him to jumping into bed with another woman in  just a matter of hours. He launched himself into the air,  feeling dirtied by what he had just discovered.

As he flew towards Kansas, he found himself wondering if  there were some way to convince Lois of what he had seen.  But almost immediately, he dismissed the thought. It would  be best if he found another way to make Lois see Luthor for  who he really was - a way that wasn't so personally  devastating. No. This was one piece of information Lois  would never learn from him.

He was about to fly through the window to the hayloft when  he heard noises very similar to the ones which had been  emanating from Luthor's bedroom only minutes before. He  groaned. It seemed that the hayloft wasn't going to be an  option for tonight. So what should he do?

The Planet. If he recalled correctly, there was a cot in  the janitor's closet. Maybe he could sneak that into the  morgue and spend the night there. It sure beat sleeping on  the streets, which was really his only other option. Giving  a small sigh, he headed back to the Daily Planet.

* * * * * * * * *

"Do you have permission to sleep here," came a familiar  voice, bringing Clark slowly from sleep.

"Of course, Lois," he growled softly. "I asked my parents  and they said that we're allowed to sleep together now that  we're mar..." His head suddenly snapped up as the cobwebs  quickly cleared his mind. An attempt to scramble off the  cot left him lying on his back on the floor.

Over him, Lois stood, eyebrows in her hairline as she  stared down at him.

"Uhh... morning?" he said sheepishly.

When she didn't respond, he continued. "Umm... look. I know  I probably shouldn't have..." He scampered to his feet and  began folding up the cot. "I just was doing research and it  got late and the cot was here..." He stopped his frenzied  activity, looked at her again and shrugged.

"So what are you doing here so early on a Saturday  morning?" he asked when she still said nothing. "I would  have thought that senior reporters like you would normally  get your weekends off."

"We do. But I had some business to take care of," she  responded, the frown on her face not letting up.

"Anything I can do to help?" The question was automatic -  the exact thing he would normally ask his Lois. This Lois  immediately furrowed her eyebrows, her frown deepening.

"Actually, there is."

"Really?" he responded, amazed that she seemed to have  accepted him so much faster and with so much less suspicion  than his Lois had. "And what's that?" he asked, keeping his  eyes curiously on hers.

"You can tell me what you have against Lex," she responded.

He instantly broke eye contact. Looking down, his hand  began to rake through his unruly hair. He was going to have  to be very careful here. He might have the advantage of  knowing her better than she knew him. On the other hand, he  was going to have to be very careful not to let down his  guard. It would be so easy. It was so natural to trust her  implicitly.

The problem was that for this plan to work, he had to  appear reluctant to trust her. After all, if there was one  thing he knew about Lois it was that if she felt someone  was keeping something from her, she would go to any length  to find out what he was hiding.

* * * * * * * * *

"What do you have against Lex?" she demanded again,  watching him run his fingers through his hair. She wasn't  entirely sure why a pit formed in her stomach when she saw  the gold band on his left hand. For some reason, it hadn't  even occurred to her that he could be married. Forcing  herself to listen to what he was saying, she wondered why  she even cared that he was married.

"Why would you think I have something against Luthor?" he  asked, keeping his tone dismissive, while at the same time  refusing to meet her eyes. "So does this place have a  machine where I can get a cup of coffee or something?"

"Don't brush me off, Mr. Kent," she replied. "I'm a pro. I  can tell instantly when someone is hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything," he replied, almost before she  finished speaking. "Is the confection stand in the lobby  open on Saturdays?"

"Mr. Kent," she said, her voice deceptively calm as she  held on to tight control of her temper, "if you are going  to make disparaging comments about a woman's intended, you  really..."

"Disparaging comments?" Clark interrupted. "Look, I don't  recall making any disparaging comments about anyone."

Lois opened her mouth to respond before snapping it shut  again. He was right. It had been the way he had said Lex's  name, followed by the way he had nervously looked at  everything but her that had made her think that he was  hiding some information about Lex. Maybe she had misread...  Her thought stopped in mid-tracks when she saw the way he  was studiously examining his fingernails. No. She was right  the first time. This guy knew something. But given the fact  that the direct approach didn't seem to be working, she  would just have to find another way to get the information.

"Fine," she said, turning to leave the room.

"Ms. Lane," he called after her. She smiled. It couldn't  really be that easy, could it? Slowly, she turned to face  him again.

"I'm just wondering," Clark began, "do you make use of tips  for stories? 'Cause I have one that I think someone should  follow up on. I'm just wondering if I should take it to the  police to..."

"Yes!" Lois interrupted. Did she use tips? Was this guy an  idiot? He obviously didn't know much about the newspaper  business. "I mean, no."

He crunched his eyebrows together in confusion.

"I mean, yes I use tips. And no, you shouldn't take it to  the police. Well... at least not until you tell me what it  is. I... umm... deal with the police a lot and I can at  least tell you if it's worth taking it to the police.  Besides, I know some of the guys over there. If it is  something worth taking to them, I can probably save you a  lot of time by directing you to the right people. So what  is this tip of yours?" she concluded, hoping that had  sounded convincing enough. She narrowed her eyes at the  brief look of triumph in his eyes. But then it was gone and  she found herself wondering if she had imagined the look.

Clark sat down in a chair at one of the tables in the  deserted morgue. She followed him over and was about to sit  down herself when he spoke.

"Before we start... Well, I asked before about the  confectionary in the lobby. I was just wondering if it  would be okay if I went down to get a coffee and donut  before we talk? That is, if they're open."

"Oh, that's okay. I'll go," she said. It was probably safer  to keep him here until she had what she needed from him.  She almost stopped when a brief glimmer of amusement seemed  to flash through his eyes again. Then, shaking her head,  she grabbed her purse and headed from the morgue.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark lowered his glasses, continuing to watch as Lois made  her way down to the confection stand. So far, so good. He  had to admit, his Luthor performance had been some of his  best work. He raised his fingers, breathed on his nails and  polished them on his chest. He might have gone a little far  with the coffee and donut thing, but it had now been a day  and a half - actually, almost two days - since he had eaten  anything. And although he didn't need to eat, it was always  comforting to do so.

The problem was that he didn't have any valid money. And  since he was fairly certain that Lois wouldn't want him to  leave without giving her what she wanted, he was on pretty  safe ground suggesting that he was just going to run down  to the confectionary. Or he was if she was anything like  his Lois when it came to pursuing a story. And given that  this Lois had the Pulitzer, he had been fairly certain he  was on safe ground there, too.

Not only was he pleased with how he had handled the Lex  Luthor issue - convincing her that he knew something about  the man by claiming he didn't - he was also pleased with  the opening he'd given about a story. There was only one  thing he had yet to do. He had to make sure that she didn't  leave him behind when he finally shared his 'tip' with her.  That meant getting the necessary promises up front. After  all, he had to make sure she followed this tip all the way  to Luthor.

And maybe, while they chased down his 'tip', he could  gently probe to find out what she might know about  alternate universes and the like. He just wasn't sure how  to raise the subject. After all, he didn't particularly  want her thinking he had lost his mind. It wouldn't bode  well for his ability to be seen as a reliable informant.

He glanced at the door just before Lois again emerged,  carrying a cardboard tray with two large coffees, an  assortment of creams, sugars and sweeteners and one large  donut.

"They didn't have chocolate donuts?" he asked, feeling just  the slightest twinge of disappointment. After not eating  for two days, a chocolate donut would have been nice.

"Don't push it, Kent," Lois immediately responded, setting  the tray down on the table just a tiny bit harder than  absolutely necessary.

He met her eyes and realized that at some point during her  trip to the confectionary, she had put together his little  ruse for getting her to buy him breakfast. He had the  decency to feel slightly sheepish.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," he said softly,  meeting her eyes in a soft apology.

Her gaze immediately softened. She shrugged slightly as she  sat down and took one of the coffees.

"Thanks," he said. "You have no idea how much I appreciate  this."

She shrugged again. "Oh, I think I do."

Not entirely sure how to respond, he waited for her to  continue.

"Well, let's see," she said when she finally met his eyes.  "Your clothes look as if you have been living in them for  the past few days. You spent the night on a cot at the  Daily Planet. And you maneuver me into buying you  breakfast."

Clark let out a slow breath. He should have realized that  there wasn't a Lois in any universe who wouldn't notice  those things.

"Yeah, well," he said. "I guess I am a little short on cash  at the moment."

Raising her coffee to her mouth with one hand, she pushed  the remainder of the tray to him with the other.

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

"No problem. Just next time, why don't we skip the games?  I'm really not very fond of games. If you're straight with  me, I'll be straight with you. That's sort of my philosophy  on life. But trust me, if you aren't straight with me, you  won't know what hit you. I'll bury you faster than..."

"A speeding bullet?"

Lois smiled. "Something like that." She took another sip of  her coffee while he took a bite of the donut.

"Well, it just so happens that I can move faster than a  speeding bullet, so I guess that's okay."

Lois simply laughed.

"So what's this tip you have for me?" she asked.

He quickly swallowed the piece of donut in his mouth. "I  have a condition first," he said.

"Kent," she responded, the unmistakable hint of a warning  in her voice.

"Hey, listen. You told me to play it straight. So I am. I  want a little quid pro quo."

She studied him for a moment before responding. "The Daily  Planet doesn't pay for tips."

"Then what was the donut?" he asked. When she opened her  mouth to respond, he waved her concern away, making it  clear that he was only joking. "I don't want money." When  her eyebrows rose, he continued. "I want to be involved in  the investigation."

"Why?"

Clark took a deep breath as he prepared to tell his  prearranged story. Suddenly, he was glad that he really was  faster than a speeding bullet. After all, if she ever found  out that he was lying to her, his invulnerable hide was the  only thing that would stand between him and certain death.

"I'm writing a book and I could really benefit from  following an investigation through from the first tip to  the final story. That's my price, Ms. Lane," he said and  then held his breath as he waited for a response.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois stared at the man in front of her as she considered  the price Kent was demanding in exchange for his tip. She  worked alone. She had for years. Partners only slowed her  down. Besides, he was a civilian. She couldn't vouch for  his safety. Worse, what if he did something that  jeopardized her safety? Still, either he was a great  bluffer, or he meant it when he said that was his price. He  was meeting her gaze dead on, not flinching or backing down  - unlike his previous attempts to avoid eye contact when  talking about Lex.

Oh, he might think she had forgotten about Lex. But she  hadn't. He would tell her what his problem was with Lex  eventually. On the other hand, for that to happen, he would  have to stick around. Agreeing to his price would ensure  that happened.

And if his tip turned out to be nothing more than  hyperbole, she could just tell him that she wasn't  interested.

"Let's get one thing straight," she finally said. "This  might be your tip, but if I decide to follow it, it will be  my story. I'm the one in charge. You'll follow my lead."

"I usually do," Clark muttered under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Clark looked caught off guard, obviously not expecting her  to hear his muttered comment. "It means, you're in charge,"  he said nervously. "So, do we have a deal?"

Lois studied him for another moment. He was certainly a  strange character. "Deal," she finally said. "So what's  this great tip?"

"Perpetual Pines Cemetery has been burying the bodies of  people who haven't been registered as deceased with the  government."

"But what would be the point of that?" Lois asked. "Unless,  of course, they're acting as a body disposal service for  some crime syndicate," she continued, answering her own  question and feeling that usual tingling she got when she  was hot on the heels of a story. When Clark simply raised  his eyebrows, as if to say that he had wondered the same  thing, she nodded.

"Okay, then I guess our first step is to see what we can  find out about Perpetual Pines Cemetery."

"Wouldn't the first step be to make a trip to Perpetual  Pines Cemetery?" Clark asked. "I mean, do we really want to  be wasting time here if there's nothing to the story."

"Who did we agree was in charge here, Kent?" she asked.

Clark let out a breath. "You."

"Exactly. So the first thing we do is research. Then we  'consider' visiting Perpetual Pines Cemetery."

Clark didn't look particularly happy. Still, he nodded,  obviously having the wisdom to realize that fighting with  her was a waste of time. After all, she was the  professional here. He was just a civilian along for the  ride.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 06

Lois glanced at Kent across the top of her monitor. She had  brought him up to the newsroom and had put him to work on  Dan Scardino's computer - after all, Dan was unlikely to be  in on the weekend. He worked his hours and nothing more if  he could help it.

Clark was currently digging up information about Perpetual  Pines Cemetery. She, on the other hand, was looking for  information about the owner of the Cemetery.

She knew that Kent hadn't been very happy about doing  research before visiting Perpetual Pines. And normally she  would agree. But there was something she needed to do first  - and it wasn't exactly the reason she had given Kent for  delaying the trip.

It was Kent himself. She knew he was hiding something. On  his finger was a wedding ring. Yet he had spent the night  in the Daily Planet because he had nowhere to go. His  clothes seemed to be of decent quality, not the thousand  dollar suits her fiance wore, more like the type she would  expect a man to wear if he worked in an office in middle  management, or, for that matter, as a reporter for the  Daily Planet. And yet his clothes, although still  relatively clean, had obviously been worn for a few days  now. Then there was his comment about being short of money.  If he couldn't afford even coffee and a donut, he was  definitely in trouble.

As a result, Lois was having serious reservations about  trusting him. Oh, sure. There was that look in his eyes  that made her want to trust him. But she hadn't won the  Pulitzer by not doing her homework. And before she would  follow him into what could be a dangerous situation, she  was determined to find out as much as possible about Clark  Kent.

Besides, when Lois had tried to probe Kent about his source  for the information, he had brushed her off. So did that  mean that Kent was somehow involved in all of this? She  didn't know. What she did know was that he was lying to her  about something - or at least, not telling her everything.  She'd really like to know what that was - and whether it  meant she could trust him.

The problem was that she had a theory. In that theory, Kent  had been a contract killer for the mob. Somehow, he had  lost the trust of his employers and now was trying to bring  them down before they could kill him. There was only one  problem with that theory. And that was the gentleness she  could see when she looked in his eyes.

She shook her head. There it was again. She hated the  strange connection she felt with this man. Was it making  her sloppy? She had to take this slowly, find her way past  the emotions to get to the truth. If she didn't, this story  could very well be her last.

She watched as he got up, removed his jacket and rolled up  his sleeves, giving her a nice view of the muscles of his  back when he placed his jacket on the back of the chair. He  leaned over to collect some papers which had fallen off the  desk. She pulled a breath in through her teeth as she  watched the material of his trousers stretch across the  muscles of his posterior.

She quickly directed her gaze back at her monitor, trying  to look busy when he suddenly looked at her, as if he had  heard her sharp intake of breath. In the corner of her eye,  she could see him head in the direction of the washroom.  She let out a breath when he disappeared from view. This  was her chance.

Jumping up from behind her desk, she headed for his jacket.  Reaching into his inside pocket, she pulled out a wallet  and a folded page of a newspaper. She quickly opened the  paper, feeling slightly stunned when she realized it was  her engagement announcement. Why would he have this? He  hadn't even known her when this had been in the paper. She  looked towards the hall to the washrooms, deep in thought.  Who exactly was this man? And what exactly did he want from  her?

Well, that was what she was going to find out! Quickly  refolding the paper, she turned her attention to his  wallet. Grabbing the notepad from the desk, she tore  herself a fresh page. His driver's license was her first  target.

She removed the piece of plastic and looked carefully at  the name and picture. It was certainly his name and  picture. She wrote down the number on his license, together  with his birthdate. February 28, 1966. He was about a year  and a half older than she was. She shook her head.

"Keep your mind on the job," she muttered to herself  firmly.

Putting the driver's license back in his wallet, she turned  her attention to his credit cards. He seemed to have all  the usual ones - in the name of Clark Kent. She wrote down  the numbers from a couple of them. Taking a look in the  wallet, she found some phony money. Why would he be  carrying this? In some ways, it looked real enough but why  would they have replaced the picture of America's first  president, Benedict Arnold, with the face of that traitor,  George Washington? And the five was wrong, too. It should  be Robert E. Lee, the man who had led the North to victory  during the civil war. Who was this Lincoln character  anyway?

She was putting the phony money back in his wallet when her  fingers brushed against something else. She pulled out a  plastic container which obviously contained pictures. She  was about to look at the photos she assumed were inside  when a noise coming from the direction of the washroom  caught her attention. Quickly stuffing his things back in  his pocket, she grabbed the paper on which she had been  making notes. She was just landing in her chair again when  Kent suddenly walked around the corner.

She gave him a smile which he returned with a strange look  before glancing at the suit jacket hanging over the back of  his chair. Lois caught her lip between her teeth and looked  back at her monitor, ignoring the look she could feel him  giving her.

It was a few minutes later before Lois saw Jimmy enter the  newsroom. She smiled. Perfect. She caught Jimmy's eye and  nodded her head towards the conference room. With a brief  look at Kent to ensure that he was again ensconced in his  research, she got up and followed Jimmy into the conference  room, closing the door behind her.

"Isn't that Clark Kent? The man who was here yesterday?"  Jimmy asked, gesturing towards the man seated in the  newsroom.

"Yes. He's doing some research for me."

"For you? But I thought..."

"Jimmy, I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Okay. Here is Clark Kent's date of birth, his driver's  license number and the numbers on two of his credit cards.  Find out everything you can about him."

Jimmy studied the paper which she handed to him. "Can I ask  why?"

"Let's just say that I like to know who I'm dealing with  and leave it at that."

Jimmy nodded. "I assume you don't want Clark Kent to know  about this."

She rolled her eyes. He smiled and made his way out the  door.

Lois walked over to the window which looked out into the  newsroom and studied the object of her infatuation... umm,  investigation. She meant 'investigation.' After all, he was  married. But, damn, it should be illegal for a man to look  that good when he was married. 'And a woman shouldn't be  looking that hard when she's engaged,' said that annoying  little voice in the back of her mind. She pushed the  thought away.

"What is it about you, Clark Kent?" she asked softly. She  jerked, looking away suddenly when, almost as if he had  heard her comment, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers with  uncanny accuracy.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark kept his eyes firmly on the computer screen as he  continued looking for information about Perpetual Pines  Cemetery. However, his mind wasn't on the data in front of  him. When he had returned from the washroom and seen the  look on Lois' face, he had known instantly that she was up  to something. What, he wasn't sure. But she had looked just  a little too innocent. It was a look he often saw on the  face of his wife - and it always meant trouble.

He had instantly reminded himself that she wasn't his Lois  and what she might be up to was really no business of his.  Then a crazy idea had occurred to him when he had caught a  glimpse of the jacket he'd left carelessly hanging over the  back of a chair. Could she have been going through his  jacket?

He had quickly brushed the thought off. They were looking  into a story about Perpetual Pines Cemetery so why would  Lois go through his jacket? Reassured, he had returned to  his research. He had been so engrossed in the information  he had found on the cemetery that he barely noticed when  Lois and Jimmy went into the conference room.

In fact, it wasn't until he heard the door open and Jimmy  leave that it had really registered in his mind that they  were in there at all. And then his hearing had kicked in,  allowing him to hear her muttered comment.

'What is it about you, Clark Kent?'

He had looked up, meeting her eyes as the truth had  instantly hit him. She didn't trust him. He wasn't sure why  that had come as such a shock. Of course she didn't trust  him. She didn't even know him. That was why it was so  terribly important that he keep his guard up, didn't give  her any reason to distrust him by acting as if... well, as  if he were crazy - thinking that she was his wife or  something. Otherwise, she was never going to let him lead  her to the evidence about Luthor.

Of course, that also meant that he was going to have to  come up with a way to talk to her about alternate universes  that wasn't going to have her running for the hills. But  how did he do that? 'Umm... Have you ever been to an  alternate universe?'

"She's going to think I've lost my mind," he muttered.

"Who is?" asked Lois, snapping him out of his musings.

"Umm... Nothing," he said. "Have you seen this?" he  immediately continued, directing her attention to an  article he had found on the internet.

She leaned over his shoulder, reaching around him to  control the mouse, as she quickly read the article. He  shook his head slightly, suddenly hit again by this strange  connection he felt to the Lois of this world as she, once  again, reminded him of his wife.

"Yeah, so?" she asked.

"Well, I was just noticing that Perpetual Pines Cemetery  has the government contract to bury unclaimed bodies for  the city."

"And?" she asked.

He fumbled for a moment, trying to find a response. He knew  that there was a connection between that contract and what  he had discovered last night, but she had no way of knowing  it at this point.

"Nothing," he said. "I just found it interesting."

"Hmph," she replied, turning and making her way back to her  desk.

He swivelled in his chair as he watched her go.

"So what have you found?" he asked.

"Well, I found out that the owner of Perpetual Pines  Cemetery is Harlan Black. He's relatively well off - has  ownership in a number of different companies. The biggest  company does shipping from the Asian rim."

Clark leaned back in his chair, glad that she had already  discovered the connection to Black. After all, it was that  connection that would lead them to Luthor. Still, he kept  his mind on track. One step at a time. First, they had to  trail the bodies from Perpetual Pines back to the ship and  then they could worry about Harlan Black.

"He had a wife and two kids - a boy and a girl," Lois was  continuing. "A couple of years ago, his entire family was  killed in a car accident. Since then, all he seems to do is  work, most of which he does out of some exclusive club."

"That's really sad," said Clark.

"Lois?" asked a woman's voice from behind Clark. Lois  raised her eyes while Clark turned towards the approaching  woman.

"Hi, Cath," Lois said. "I thought you were going to the  cabin with Bill and the kids this weekend."

"Bill got called in to cover for someone. We'll be leaving  a little later today," Catherine Henderson, known in  Clark's universe as Cat Grant said answering Lois' question  while not taking her eyes off Clark.

"Oh," said Lois. "Mr. Kent, here, provided me with a lead  and is helping me pursue it."

"Really?" asked Catherine, her gaze finally leaving Clark  to meet Lois' eyes, her eyebrows raised in silent question.

Clark looked at Lois when he heard a slight increase in her  heartrate. His eyebrows crinkled slightly when he saw the  color in Lois' cheeks as she nervously brushed a strand of  hair behind her ear. She was embarrassed. But what did she  have to be embarrassed about? Unless, of course, she wasn't  embarrassed but nervous. After all, Clark supposed it was  possible that this Daily Planet had strict guidelines about  working with sources.

"Umm... could I talk to you in private, Lois?" Catherine  asked.

Lois nodded, quickly rising to her feet and heading for the  office of the editor-in-chief. Clark watched as the two  women disappeared behind closed doors. Unable to resist,  and slightly afraid that he might have got this Lois in  trouble with her boss, he listened in to the conversation,  being careful to keep his head buried in his computer while  he did so.

* * * * * * * * *

Catherine Henderson was silent as she closed the door  behind her. Without looking at Lois, she made her way to  the office window to look out into the bullpen quite  obviously watching the man seated at Dan Scardino's desk.

"He's cute," Catherine remarked.

"Is he? I hadn't noticed," Lois responded immediately.

Cat turned around and looked at her. Lois met her eyes for  a minute before she was unable to continue to do so. She  looked away, the color in her cheeks deepening.

"Okay, so maybe I did notice."

"Mmm," said Catherine. "Well, regardless, it's none of my  business - at least, not while we're at work. But, girl, on  Monday we're going for lunch. And I expect to hear all the  dirt."

Lois let out a frustrated breath. "It's nothing like that,  Cath. He gave me a tip - about a possible story. However,  he said he wanted to follow a story through from beginning  to end and that was his condition for giving me the tip. So  I'm babysitting. That's all."

"Damn. Oh well, I guess it was too much to hope for. After  all, that is one fine specimen. It would be nice to hear  what he's like between the sheets."

"Cath! What about Bill?"

"I know what he's like between the sheets. I don't need a  report on that," she responded lightly before looking again  at Lois. "Look, just because I'm happily married doesn't  mean I don't still... you know, think about it. And I'm not  going to believe that you haven't thought about it. Still,  why would I be asking you what he's like? Although," she  looked back into the bullpen again, "for that one, I'd  suggest you consider breaking the rules."

Lois chuckled and shook her head. "You're too much, Cath,"  she said, rising to her feet. "I better get back before he  thinks we're calling the police to report a trespasser. But  you're on for that lunch date on Monday. I want to hear all  about your weekend."

"Deal," Catherine responded.

Lois' hand was on the doorknob before Catherine continued,  "Is it a good story?"

"If it turns out to be true, it will be a great story."

"Okay, then type up an outline and send it to my computer."  To Lois' look, she continued. "I want to know what you're  looking into. I won't have you running off into danger  without at least letting someone know where you might be.  And promise me you'll be careful." When Lois rolled her  eyes, Catherine continued. "I'm serious, Lois. He might be  cute. But you don't know him. So be careful."

"I'm always careful," Lois said, pulling the door open.

"Yeah. Right," Catherine groaned, provoking a chuckle from  Lois as she stepped out of the office, closing the door  behind her.

Lois was still smiling as she made her way back to her  desk. She couldn't imagine working for anyone but Catherine  these days. Perry had been great while he had been editor.  He had taught her everything she knew about the news  business. Even these days, when she found herself trying to  get a grip on a story, she still found herself picking up  the phone to call Perry. It sort of amazed her that he  continued to take her calls - as if never too busy to talk  to her. But she had really come to appreciate the mixture  of humor Catherine interspersed with her orders. It always  seemed to take the edge off being told what to do.

As she settled behind her desk, she glanced over at Clark.  His ears were an interesting shade of red. From her  position, she tried to see his monitor. What was he looking  at that was embarrassing him so badly? Now, if he wanted to  be embarrassed, he should have listened to her conversation  with Catherine. Sometimes that woman was so bad.

She pushed the thought out of her mind to turn her  attention to her computer, quickly typing up what she and  Clark were looking into.

"Hey, beautiful," came a voice from behind her.

Lois instantly tensed as Dan Scardino sat down on the  corner of her desk.

"So who's the putz?" Dan asked, jerking his head towards  Clark.

"What are you doing here today, Dan?" she responded,  jerking some papers out from under him, coming close to  toppling him off the desk. She fought back a laugh when his  arms flailed around as he attempted to retain his balance.  "Don't you have some little old lady to hassle?"

"Just stopped by," he said. "So what are you working on?"  He leaned over, attempting to see her monitor. She  deliberately turned her monitor away from him.

"Nothing that would be of any interest to you."

She quickly sent the story thesis to Catherine and  proceeded to shut down her computer.

"Come on, Lois. You don't have to be like that. Have dinner  with me tonight." He placed a hand on her arm. She quickly  jerked away.

And suddenly Kent was there, looking slightly menacing. His  eyes were focused directly on Dan.

"Is there a problem here, Ms. Lane?" he asked.

"No," she said, pushing her chair away from her desk and,  consequently, away from Dan. He yelped, causing Lois to  smile knowing that she had just run the wheel of her chair  over his foot. "Let's go," she continued, addressing Clark.  "The air in here suddenly has me feeling slightly queasy."  With that, she headed towards the elevator. Clark seemed  uncertain about whether or not to follow. Then, placing a  hand on Dan's shoulder, he whispered something to Dan  before following Lois towards the elevator. Lois' eyebrows  rose when she saw Dan go pale.

Turning her attention towards Clark, she studied him as  they stepped silently into the elevator. She waited until  the doors closed before speaking. "What did you say to  him?" she asked.

"I just reminded him of his manners, Ms. Lane," he  responded dismissively.

She was about to ask for a more detailed answer before  suddenly laughing. When he looked confused, she explained.  "I don't care what you said. I have to admit that it was  fun seeing Dan at a loss for words for once. If ever there  were a bigger pig than Dan Scardino when it comes to women,  I really don't want to meet him. And since we are going to  be working together, don't you think you should call me  'Lois?'"

"Deal. Provided you call me 'Clark.'"

"Okay."

"So who was the jerk?" he asked.

Lois let out a breath. "Dan Scardino. He and I were  partners years ago."

"Really?"

Lois nodded. "Perry partnered us up shortly after Dan left  his job at the D.E.A. to join the staff at the Planet. It  didn't last long. He's just too... impulsive. He jumps in  without thinking about the consequences. He's dangerous and  I knew that at some point, he was going to get us both  killed."

"He was too impulsive?" Clark asked.

Lois looked at him in confusion when she heard the note of  disbelief in his voice.

"Yeah."

"For you?" he clarified.

"Yeah. Okay, look. Maybe I am a bit impulsive. But at least  I come out of it with the story. I know what I'm doing. Dan  lost us the story with his 'heads first' attitude more  times than his tactics helped. The investigation usually  ended with us dodging bullets without enough evidence to go  to print."

"So the dodging bullets part is fine - but only if it gets  you the front page?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not an adrenaline junkie, you know. I only  do what needs to be done."

"Fair enough," Clark said after a moment, as if having  gained some great insight into her character.

"Yeah, well, tell Dan that. Between my refusal to be  partnered with him and my dodging his constant advances...  Never mind. It's not important. Trust me. You don't want to  hear about it. So what do you say that we grab some lunch  on our way to Perpetual Pines?"

* * * * * * * * *

Dan watched the elevator doors close before giving in to  the need to rub his shoulder. For a moment, Dan had  wondered if the man was going to break his collarbone.

"I don't think she likes it when you touch her. Don't do it  anymore." The voice had remained soft and low while the  hand had tightened on his shoulder. But then the man  released his shoulder and walked away.

When had Lois Lane hired that overgrown muscle man? Dan's  only real comfort, as he slipped into the chair behind  Lois' desk, was that muscle men didn't tend to have brains.

"Hey, Dan," said Jimmy, causing Dan to look up. "Did you  see where Lois went?"

"She left with the neanderthal."

Jimmy looked anxiously towards the elevator.

"She really will want to know this," Jimmy muttered,  looking at the computer printout in his hand.

"No problem," Dan instantly jumped in. "She told me what  she's working on. She said that you should just give what  you have to me."

Jimmy's eyes came back to Dan's face. He seemed to waver  for a moment before saying, "Not a chance, Scardino," and  walking away.

Dan let out a breath before glancing around the newsroom.  There were significantly fewer people around today than  would be present on a weekday. And since no one was paying  any attention to him, he pushed the power button on Lois'  computer.

Dan wasn't sure why that English dude kept paying him for  information about Lois, but as long as the money was good,  he wasn't objecting.

He turned his attention to the computer as it powered up.  It was only a moment before it asked for a password. He  quickly typed in the appropriate word, the way he had so  many times over the course of the past year, and waited. It  only took a moment to have the information he needed. He  switched off the computer before heading for the elevators  - after all, he had the day off.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 07

"You haven't answered my question," Lois said, as they made  their way towards her jeep in the parking lot below the  Daily Planet.

"Question?" Clark responded, trying to figure out what she  was asking while at the same time listening to a police  report about a car accident on the Hobbs' Bridge.

"Lunch?"

"Umm... Look, I'm going to have to take a rain check,"  Clark said as he began backing slowly away from her.

"Clark?"

"How about I meet you at Perpetual Pines? One o'clock?"

"Clark, where are you going?"

"I'm..." He made a wavy motion with his hand.

Her eyebrows went up and she copied his action, instantly  reminding him that this Lois didn't know about his alter  ego. And although there was no Superman in this universe,  Clark knew he couldn't just stand by and do nothing - not  when the lives of a woman and a very young child were at  stake. According to the police transmission, the woman's  car was precariously balanced over the side of the bridge.

"Look, I'll explain later. One o'clock. Perpetual Pines."  Realizing he didn't have time to waste, he turned around  and began jogging away, ignoring her call for an  explanation.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois felt stunned as she climbed into her jeep. What had  just happened? There had to be a reasonable explanation for  Clark's sudden disappearance. Had she said something or  done something that had upset him?

Suddenly, she had an idea. She suspected he was hiding  something. She just didn't know what. Maybe he had seen  someone who had spooked him. She glanced around but the  parking area was empty.

Then another possibility struck her. What if this was some  sort of trap? Maybe the bad guys were waiting around some  corner. Or maybe he was off right now telling the bad guys  that she would be at Perpetual Pines Cemetery at one  o'clock. She shook her head. No. The man whose eyes she had  looked into several times this morning would never risk her  life. Unless, he had no choice. That could be it. Maybe  they were threatening his life or that of his wife and  family unless he ensured that she was in a particular place  at a particular time. Maybe she should just not show up.

She put the key in the ignition and started the car,  suddenly feeling inexplicably depressed. She had just put  the jeep into drive when the real reason Clark had  disappeared hit her.

"Omigod," she whispered, putting the car back in park. He  didn't have any real money. Okay, so maybe he had credit  cards. But if he were trying to avoid being located, he was  not likely to use those. Either that or for some reason,  his cards were no longer any good. After all, his lack of  money was why he had tricked her into buying him breakfast.

Of course he had taken off. She had suggested that they go  to lunch. He was obviously too embarrassed to tell her that  he couldn't afford to eat. There was nothing cynical about  Clark's disappearance.

Well, maybe there was some way she could make her mistake  up to him. Having an idea, she put the jeep in drive and  headed out of the parking garage.

* * * * * * * * *

Templeton leaned forward in his chair as he watched the car  teeter precariously on the bridge. He had been wondering  since Clark Kent's arrival in this dimension whether the  Man of Steel would reveal himself and this seemed the most  promising opportunity.

The helicopter filming the action was focusing in on two  electrical wires which were bouncing against the top of the  vehicle, sending sparks in every direction and forcing  police officers and firefighters to keep their distance.  Then the commentator's voice became animated as something  began to happen. Templeton leaned closer looking carefully  for the tell-tale red and blue. He could see nothing -  other than an unexpected movement of, first one wire and  then the other so that instead of hitting the top of the  car, they were hanging harmlessly out of the way.

There was no movement for a moment, as if no one could  quite believe it was safe to approach. And then the car  stopped tipping back and forth and began to move backwards  of its own accord until all four tires were once again on  the bridge.

All at once, there was movement as everyone, almost in one  accord, rushed forward to get the mother and daughter out  of the vehicle.

Commentators were baffled. Police and fire fighters were  baffled. Only the woman from the car had an explanation,  given in a broken, barely coherent voice as tears ran  freely down her face. God had sent one of his angels to  save them.

The baffling rescue was shown repeatedly. Yet, no matter  how hard he watched, Templeton was unable to see Kent. But  Kent had been there. Templeton knew that as certainly as he  knew that Luthor Towers would soon be a pile of dust.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark felt drained as he landed in an alley near Perpetual  Pines Cemetery. He had forgotten how much more difficult it  was conducting a rescue operation without being spotted -  especially given the number of cameras he had had to avoid.

He had flown fast enough to be almost invisible as he had  removed the live wires from the roof of the car. He wished  he had been able to secure the wires or fix them entirely,  but he hadn't wanted to take the risk of being spotted.

But he had been spotted, briefly, by the woman in the car  when he'd dashed up under the vehicle to move it back onto  the bridge. Still, given how upset she had been, he doubted  that anyone would believe her.

Regardless, it had been close. He needed to get back to his  own universe quickly before someone or something else came  up that would give him away.

Automatically adjusting his tie even though he hadn't  changed into the suit to conduct the rescue, he made his  way to where he could see Lois just pulling up in front of  Perpetual Pines Cemetery. He braced himself for her fury  and was surprised when she just smiled at him and handed  him a brown paper bag.

"Next time, just tell me the truth, Clark," she said softly  before, without closing the door to her jeep, turning and  heading towards the front doors of the majestic looking  building.

Confused, Clark opened the bag and examined the contents.  Inside was a sandwich, a bag of chips and a can of coke. He  thought he even saw a cupcake near the bottom. She had  brought him lunch.

"Umm... Thanks," he said, looking back at her.

She stopped and turned towards him, giving him a smile.

"So are you going to stand there all day with your mouth  hanging open or are you coming?" she asked.

Clark blinked. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on.  Not that he didn't appreciate the food. It was...  wonderful. Still, her comment almost indicated that she  knew what he had been up to. But she didn't... did she?

Before there was time to consider the issue further, Lois  was pulling open the door to Perpetual Pines. He tossed the  sandwich in the open door of her jeep, locked the door and  dashed to catch up with her.

* * * * * * * * *

"What is it, Nigel?" Luthor asked without looking up from  the papers on his desk.

"I just heard from Scardino, sir," he said, finally getting  his employer's attention.

"And?"

"Apparently someone has provided Ms. Lane with a tip that  has her investigating Perpetual Pines Cemetery."

"Who?"

"I was unable to obtain that information," Nigel responded.  "There was a strange man at the Planet today, but my source  didn't know who he was."

"But I thought we had 'taken care' of all her sources and  replaced them with our own people."

"Someone new must have contacted her, sir."

"Obviously," Luthor responded, setting down the paper in  his hand.

"Do you want me to warn Harlan Black about this  development?"

"No," Luthor responded, rising to his feet. "It's too late  for him. If she has Perpetual Pines, she has Harlan. I want  you to ensure that she can't track Harlan to me."

"Exactly how far am I authorized to go, sir?"

Luthor picked up the paper again. "Just be sure he doesn't  have any paperwork that links the two of us."

"Very good, sir. I'll take care of it."

"There's one other thing, Nigel."

"Sir?"

"Well, we should probably liquidate the assets we have  obtained from Harlan, at least the ones that haven't yet  been shipped out - just in case they can be linked back to  me. A fire should do the job. Just make sure no potential  witnesses are left behind."

* * * * * * * * *

"Can I help you," asked the proprietor.

"Umm... yes," said Lois, kicking herself for failing to  discuss a strategy with Clark before entering the building.  "We're here because..." Her voice trailed off as she  wondered whether she could count on Clark to follow her  lead.

"Don't mind my sister," said Clark, wrapping an arm around  her shoulder. "She's upset. She and Aunt Martha were quite  close."

Lois' mind instantly realized what Clark was doing. She  could almost kiss him. Looking down, she forced tears to  congregate in her eyes before looking up at the man.

"Uhh, yes, I understand," said the man in his sympathetic,  almost sing-song, voice. "When was her passing?"

"We got the news last night," Clark said, giving Lois'  shoulders a comforting squeeze. "We've never really had to  do this type of thing before so we're not sure where to  begin."

"That's quite all right," said the proprietor. "I'm Mr.  Pinner. And I'll help you through the whole process. If  you'll just follow me."

With that, Pinner began droning on about coffins and burial  plots and memorial services. Clark let go of Lois'  shoulders and followed closely behind, as if hanging on  Pinner's every word. Lois dragged behind, keeping her head  down and allowing her hair to fall slightly across her  face, while looking carefully around with her eyes.

Perhaps she could ditch Pinner and Clark completely so that  she could get into the office and conduct a proper search.  But every time she fell too far behind, Pinner seemed to be  there again, not allowing her to stray from the 'tour.'  Finally, when they entered the chapel, she had an idea. The  only question was whether Clark would follow her lead. But  given how quickly he had provided cover when they had come  into the building, she hoped he'd pick up on her clue.

She bit down on her lower lip hard, causing the tears to  come in earnest. She added to that a few sobs, directing  Clark and Pinner's attention back to her.

Clark was immediately at her side. "What's wrong, sis?" he  asked, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

She responded by fisting her hand in his shirt, burying her  head against his chest and acting as if she was struggling  for air between sobs.

"Do you have somewhere private we can go?" Clark asked  Pinner.

'Good boy,' Lois thought to herself as Pinner led them to a  private reception room. She quickly cased the room, seeing  a closed door on the far side with a bronze sign bearing a  single word - 'private.'

"Can you..." Hick "...do the rest..." Hick "...without me?"  asked Lois when she was safely seated in a plush office.  "I'd just like... to sit here for a... minute if that's  okay."

"I'm not sure I can allow..." Pinner began. His voice  trailed off when Lois began to sob.

Clark grabbed a tissue and knelt down beside her. As he  handed her the tissue, he caught her eyes and then glanced  at the closed door. When his eyes returned to her, she gave  a slight nod, understanding his silent question. Yes, she  was going to see what was on the other side of that door.  After all, it was marked 'private.'

"Maybe we should just go, sis," he said. "I can always take  you home and then go to the funeral home just a few blocks  from the house."

"But Aunt Martha... wanted to be buried in... a place with  a view," Lois responded.

"Aunt Martha loved you. She wouldn't want to put you  through..."

"It's all right," the proprietor interrupted. "Why don't  you just wait here while I complete my tour with your  brother?" he suggested, obviously seeing his quarry  slipping between his fingers. And given how upset they  appeared to be, he probably figured they would drop twenty,  twenty-five grand at least on the funeral. Nothing but the  best for Aunt Martha, after all - even if she wasn't around  to appreciate it - or the grossly exaggerated price tag  that went along with it.

Lois continued her 'hicks' until the door closed, leaving  her alone in the reception room. Almost instantly, her  tears dried as she dashed for the door. She removed her  lock-picking equipment and had the door open in seconds.

Behind the door was a private office. Seeing the large  desk, she made her way there and began searching it. The  majority of the drawers were stuffed with pamphlets, other  advertising materials and sales contracts for purchasing  coffins, burial plots, etc. There were even loan  applications. Did this man have no shame? Who would let  grieving relatives go into debt to pay for a funeral?

But that wasn't illegal. Neither was anything else she  could find in the unlocked drawers. She smiled slightly at  the one drawer that was locked before using her lock- picking equipment once again. She had the drawer opened  almost immediately. When she pulled out the papers inside,  a note fluttered to the floor. She picked it up and turned  it over.

'Pick up bodies from customs. Pier 36. June 20th, 1:30  a.m.'

Putting down the note, she began looking through the other  documents. She stopped when she found a contract from the  city for the burial of five unclaimed bodies. She was about  to continue - after all, Clark had mentioned that they had  a contract with the city - when she noticed something  written on a yellow sticky stuck to the contract.

'Add one body extra body to three of these graves.'

"What?" she asked.

Before she could probe further, she heard voices  approaching the reception room she was supposed to be in.  In particular, Clark seemed to be talking louder than  normal - probably to notify her of their impending arrival.  He was good.

She looked back at the documents in her hands. Take or not  take? The voices were getting closer. Not take. They might  be missed, after all. If they turned out to be crucial, she  could always sneak back in after hours and make copies.

The decision made, she stuffed the documents back inside  the desk, pushing the drawer closed and flew across the  room. She pulled the door to the office closed and threw  herself into her chair, coming dangerously close to tipping  the chair over when she landed in it just as the doorknob  began to turn. She dropped her head into her hands as the  door opened.

"So can we draw up the contracts?" asked Pinner as Clark  came over and helped her to her feet.

"We'll let you know," Clark said as he led her towards the  entrance. He opened the door and stepped with her out into  the warm sunshine.

"That was..." Lois began.

"Shh," Clark admonished, keeping his arm around her. "He's  still watching." As they approached the jeep, he spoke  again. "You're supposed to be too distraught to drive. Give  me the keys."

As she did as instructed, it never even crossed her mind  that she didn't let anyone drive her baby - not even Lex.  Instead, she kept her head down as she crawled into the  passenger's seat. She waited until they had driven away  before looking up.

"Were we good or what?" she asked triumphantly. "I couldn't  believe how quickly you picked up on what I was doing."

"Me?" asked Clark. "I couldn't believe you managed to  produce real tears. You made it easy for me."

Lois beamed under the praise. "I'll have to tell you  sometime how I won the Pulitzer," she said.

"I'll look forward to it," he responded.

Lois blinked when it suddenly occurred to her that somehow  they had just turned a corner - talking about what they  were going to do together in the future. Exactly how had  that happened?

"So what did you find?" Clark asked, directing her mind and  the conversation back to the task at hand. She immediately  began filling him in.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois rushed through the Daily Planet. With any luck, she  could get in and out in minutes. The note she had found at  Perpetual Pines indicated that there were bodies to be  picked up at Pier 36 at 1:30 a.m. Since that was the only  real lead they had at the moment, she had made arrangements  to meet Clark there later. In the mean time, since she did  officially have the day off, she was going to do some of  the chores that had been on her list before meeting the  enigma known as Clark Kent.

"Hey, Lois," came a familiar voice.

"Not now, Jimmy, I have to..."

"I've got that research you asked for."

"It's not necessary," Lois said. "I've decided..."

"Lois, I think you need to see this," Jimmy interrupted.

Lois' frantic activity came to a halt at the serious tone  in Jimmy's voice. Suddenly, she had a sinking feeling in  her stomach. After working with Clark at Perpetual Pines,  she had decided that the research she had instructed Jimmy  to do wasn't that important. If Clark were planning to try  something, he wouldn't have been so helpful at Perpetual  Pines. After all, without his help, she would probably  still be looking for a way into that office. Besides, the  original tip had come from him. If he was one of the bad  guys, would he be giving her the story?

And everyone had his secrets and idiosyncracies, and if he  liked keeping obviously phony money in his wallet, was that  really any of her business? After all, he seemed like a  decent guy.

When Jimmy gestured her towards the conference room, she  set her purse down and followed. She waited until Jimmy  closed the door before gathering the courage to look at  him.

"So what is it?" she asked, trying to keep her sudden  anxiety from showing on her face.

"Clark Kent was born February 28, 1966, in a town called  Smallville, Kansas."

"He's from Kansas? That's your big news?"

"Well, no. He was born in Smallville, Kansas in 1966 and  he..." Jimmy hesitated.

"Moved from Smallville two years later? Won the Smallville  cow growing fair in 1979 for growing the best cow?"

"Growing the best cow?"

"Graduated from High School in 1984? Lost his virginity to  Mary-Sue behind the high-school football bleachers in..."

"Died in the fall of 1977," Jimmy interrupted.

Lois stared at him as the words finally penetrated. Her  mouth moved a couple of times, trying to find her next  question, or even wrap her mind around this new  information.

"That's impossible," she finally said.

"See for yourself," Jimmy said, pulling a printout of a  newspaper article from a stack of papers he had brought  into the conference room and handing it to her.

She silently read through an article all about the tragedy  which had taken the lives of Martha, Jonathan and Clark  Kent in 1977.

"But this can't be the same Clark Kent," she finally said.

"It's him. This is the only Clark Kent born anywhere on  February 28, 1966. So unless you wrote down the wrong  birthdate..."

"I didn't write down the wrong birthdate," she interrupted.

"Then it's him, Lois. Or someone pretending to be him."

"For what reason?"

"Who knows. Often if a person is on the run he takes the  name of a dead person who is about the same age. That way  he can use the birth certificate to establish an identity  for work or credit or..."

"Credit. Did you look up his credit card numbers?"

Jimmy nodded.

"And?"

"Those numbers don't exist."

"You mean they're stolen."

"No, I mean they don't exist. The cards and the numbers are  as phoney as a lock of Elvis' hair."

Lois shook her head. "I don't get your stupid Elvis  obsession," she muttered, although her mind was obviously  elsewhere.

"There is one other thing. The number on his driver's  license... That number belongs to a man named Bruce  Campbell."

Lois closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. "Anything  else?"

"That just about covers it. Sorry, Lois. But I thought  you'd want to know."

"Yeah. Right," she responded, not managing to sound very  convincing. "You did a great job."

"Sure," Jimmy responded before quickly making his way out  the door, leaving Lois alone in the conference room.

She directed her attention back to the article Jimmy had  given her. It seemed the real Clark Kent, together with his  parents, had been trapped in a house which had then  deliberately been burned to the ground. The culprits had  never been caught.

Now what did she do? She could always dump Clark - send him  on some wild goose chase while she got the story by  herself. But if she did that, he would get suspicious and  that would tip off... Who? After all, he had been more than  helpful with this investigation so far. If it hadn't been  for him, she wouldn't even be looking into Perpetual Pines  Cemetery. He had given her the tip. Why would he do that if  he was trying to... to what? That was the whole question.

Okay, so Clark Kent wasn't really Clark Kent. But that  didn't necessarily mean anything when it came to her. There  were lots of reasons the man she knew as Clark Kent could  be living under an assumed name. And many of them wouldn't  be any of her business. Still... if she were going to be  crying out 'Oh, Clark' in the middle of...

She shook that thought from her mind, along with the image  it conjured up. It must be her talk with Lex last night  that had her thinking about such things. It had absolutely  nothing to do with her feelings for Clark Ke... well,  whatever his name was.

She walked back to her desk and picked up her purse. Her  best bet was to meet Clark as planned. If she didn't, he  would get suspicious. She would just have to watch her back  tonight - for some reason, that thought suddenly seemed  particularly depressing.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 08

Nigel St. John sat inside his car outside the exclusive  men's club as he waited for the building to empty. He had  been waiting for hours now. But finally, it appeared that  the building was being locked up for the night. He watched  a final man walk out, turning around to lock the door  behind him.

He waited until he was certain the man was gone before  getting out of his car. Then, looking both ways, he covered  the short distance to the club. Years of experience, thanks  to his time in MI-6, made picking the locks almost as easy  as using a key. It was no time at all before he was inside.

Removing a small flashlight from his jacket, he turned it  on and began making his way to Harlan Black's office.  Another brief delay to pick the office lock and he was  inside.

Concentrating on his task, he began systematically going  through files and drawers and even the large safe that was  sitting on the floor in the corner of the office. It was  inside the safe that he finally found what he was looking  for - a contract linking Black to Luthor.

He tucked the paperwork in his inside jacket pocket and,  without closing the safe so that Harlan Black would be sure  to realize what had been taken, made his way out of the  building just as silently as he had entered.

* * * * * * * * *

In the darkness surrounding them, Clark glanced over at  Lois briefly before directing his attention back to the  large ship that was approaching. They had been in their  hiding place for ten minutes now, waiting for something to  happen. It was only a couple of minute ago that Lois had  commented that she suspected that the note she had found at  Perpetual Pines was likely connected to the ship that was  arriving. Clark had simply agreed. Still, it would be a  while before the ship was in dock, safely secured and ready  to disembark.

That gave Clark some time to reflect on Lois. Something had  changed since their investigation of Perpetual Pines.  During their trip to the cemetery, it felt as if they were  becoming friends, or at least comfortable acquaintances.  But when he met her tonight, she had been abrupt, almost  cold - as if making a conscious effort to distance herself  from him. At first, he felt a little hurt. But since there  was nothing he could do about it, he had tried to put the  change out of his mind. The important thing was to show  Lois who Luthor really was - not to make friends. In fact,  it was probably just as well if they didn't become friends,  given the amount of time he planned to be in this universe.

He knew he had to ask Lois about alternate universes. As a  result, he had spent most of his time trying to figure out  how to bring up the subject casually. And he had come up  with an idea. Well, now was as good a time as any.

"I spent some time at the Metropolis library today," he  said casually.

She glanced at him before directing her attention back to  the ship.

Ignoring her coldness, he continued. "Do you read science  fiction?"

"We're here to follow the story, Clark."

"I know, but there's nothing happening at the moment and  it's going to be a while before that ship gets docked.  Anyway, I was just wondering if you have ever read any  books that deal with the subject of alternate universes.  You know, the idea that there are universes running  parallel to each other - similar in so many ways and yet  different."

"I know what alternate universes are. I read 'Gone With The  Wind' in high school, too."

"Gone With The Wind?" Clark asked, wondering if he had  heard her right.

"Yeah. You know, Margaret Mitchell's famous book about that  woman, Scarlet O'Hara, who is transported to various  universes to see what her life might have been like if  things had gone differently."

"Gone With The Wind?" he asked again for clarification.

"Yeah. I think it was the only book she ever wrote. It was  a huge hit. They even made it into a movie staring Vivien  Leigh and Clark Gable. Don't tell me you've never heard of  it."

"Oh, I've heard of it. I just thought..."

"What?"

"Nothing." There was a moment of silence as Clark digested  that tidbit before turning his mind back to the point. "So  what do you think?"

"About what?"

"You know. Alternate universes. Do you think there is such  a thing?"

"It's called science 'fiction' for a reason, Clark."

Clark sighed. Either she didn't want to share what she knew  or she really never had been introduced to alternate  universes. He had hoped she would give him an opening -  some indication that she wouldn't think he was insane if he  told her where he came from. So much for that idea. So what  did he do now? Maybe he needed to take a chance and be more  direct. "Lois..."

"Shh," she hissed and a moment later Clark saw the customs'  officers he had seen last night making their way onto the  dock. They stopped only feet away from Lois and Clark's  hiding place, making further conversation impossible.

* * * * * * * * *

The customs' officers sauntered towards the boat as the  gang plank was lowered. A man disembarked, meeting them on  the dock in an imitation of last night's performance.  Although Clark could use his enhanced hearing abilities to  pick up on the conversation, it soon became obvious that  Lois couldn't. Lois muttered something about inconvenient  hiding places before seeming to find a solution.

Clark shook his head when Lois made a mad dash across the  open area between them and the ship. Clark had no problem  keeping up to her as she bolted up the ramp, hoping to make  the trip before the men who were still talking on the dock  looked back at the boat. He wasn't too worried about Lois'  impulsive move. After all, he was confident that given the  shadows around the ship, he could get Lois out of danger if  necessary without giving himself away to the men on the  dock. Of course, Lois would realize what he had done. But  did he really care if Lois found out?

He was amazed to discover that the answer was no. For some  reason his relationship with his own Lois made him  unconcerned by the prospect of having this Lois find out  about him.

Besides, if she did find out about him, did it really  matter if she published what she knew? After all, if  everything went as planned, he would be going home shortly.  And if he didn't find a way home? Well, he wouldn't have a  life anyway, so what did it really matter if everyone knew  that Clark Kent was an alien from outer space? And it  wasn't as if he had to worry about messing things up for  this universe's Clark Kent.

Still, it would probably be just as well if this Lois  didn't know about him. After all, it was going to be  overwhelming enough when he finally figured out how to tell  her where he was really from, let alone adding that he was  an alien. A flying, invulnerable, super strong, alien.

His mind was so occupied, that he didn't notice that Lois  had stopped until he ran into her, bumping her slightly  forward. She reached behind her, fisting her hand in his  shirt as if seeking some support, but her eyes remained  fixed on whatever had caused her to stop so abruptly.  Realizing they were currently standing in full view of  anyone who might come out on deck, Clark quickly dragged  her into the shadows.

"What's going on here, Clark?" she whispered.

Clark looked back at the deck, noticing for the first time  what Lois had obviously already seen. Two dead bodies were  lying on the deck of the ship. One was a woman. The other,  a teenage boy.

"Why don't we see what else we can find? Maybe it will give  us a better idea."

She nodded, but didn't take her eyes off the bodies lying  uncovered and unattended on the deck of the ship.

"Come on," he finally said, pulling her towards a door that  would lead them below deck. His actions seemed to snap her  out of her trance.

"Before we head down there, let's see what we can find in  the cabin or whatever it's called," she said as she headed  for the bridge.

Clark readjusted his strategy as he followed behind. She  was probably right, after all. Get the evidence first. Then  explore.

They snuck onto the bridge which appeared to be deserted.  She seemed to find what she wanted fairly quickly, sticking  a number of documents into her jacket.

"What did you find?" Clark asked.

"Documents linking Harlan Black to this ship," Lois  responded as she headed for the door. "Now let's find out  exactly what type of cargo this ship is bringing into the  States. And why there's the body of a woman and a child  lying on the deck."

Clark smiled. So far, so good.

* * * * * * * * *

The air seemed to get worse the further they went into the  belly of the ship. Lois couldn't imagine what could  possibly smell as putrid. And it didn't seem to be coming  from any direction in particular. It was as if the smell  had soaked into every board and panel. It was like nothing  else Lois had ever smelled and it took everything she had  to keep from gagging.

"Here," whispered Clark over her shoulder.

She glanced at what he was holding out to her. A  handkerchief. Gratefully, she took the piece of material  and clasped it over her nose. It didn't do much, but at  least gave the illusion of helping.

"Try to breath through your mouth," Clark suggested as they  continued to descend.

She did and found it made the stench around her bearable.  She slowed as they approached a large wooden door at the  bottom of the stairs. It appeared to lock from the outside,  but was currently slightly ajar, allowing Lois, once she  was close enough, to hear a voice coming from inside the  room.

"All right. Listen up, everyone. The trucks will be here  soon. There will be no talking. Anyone who makes noise will  immediately be sent back to China and turned over to the  authorities."

The English instructions were immediately followed by  someone speaking in a language Lois didn't know. Given the  reference to China, she assumed someone was translating the  previous comments into Chinese.

Lois snuck closer to the door, pushing it open a little  further in an effort to see the man who was talking. The  instant she saw what was behind the door, a wave of nausea  swept over her and the world became a puzzling swirl of  colors. In the distance, she could hear someone say her  name, but couldn't quite figure out how to respond. She was  barely aware of strong arms sweeping her up while the world  began to spin. It was only when he again set her down that  she reacted. Escaping his grasp, she scampered to a corner  of the small room she now seemed to be in and lost the  contents of her stomach.

He said nothing - simply rubbing light circles on her back  and holding her hair out of the way while she continued to  heave. She had no idea how long it was before the gagging  stopped, but when it finally did, she was drenched in  sweat. She closed her eyes and rocked back onto her ankles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, handing her a bottle of water.

She grasped the bottle and downed several gulps before  pouring some over her head. Then, taking a deep breath, and  fighting the urge to vomit again, she nodded.

"Did you see?" she asked.

"Yes."

She remained silent for a moment.

"Those poor people. What the hell is going on here, Clark?"

"I suspect those people are being smuggled in - probably as  cheap labor."

"They were packed in there like sardines in a can. How  could anyone live in those conditions?"

"Obviously, not all did," Clark responded.

She glanced back at him as he squatted behind her. "The  bodies," she said, remembering the bodies they had seen on  deck.

She took several breaths, still fighting against the almost  overwhelming urge to gag.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," Clark said, standing up  and extending his hand.

She took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. He  pushed open the door to the small room and she felt a blast  of revitalizing cooler air. It was only then that she  realized that they were off the ship. She must have passed  out back there and he must have carried her out. It was the  only thing that made sense - although he must be stronger  than he appeared to have carried her that far. Up and down  stairs. Through portals and down gangways. It was a trip  she would never have been capable of in her condition.

She put a hand on his arm as she stepped up beside him. He  turned from where he was checking to make sure that no one  was around.

"Thanks, Clark," she said softly.

* * * * * * * * *

"Is it taken care of?" asked Luthor as he stood on the  balcony looking out over his city.

"Yes sir. I searched both his house and office at the club.  All documentation linking you to Black has been destroyed.  And I left his safe open, to be sure he knows any leverage  he had against you is gone."

"Very good, Nigel. What about that other matter?"

"It will be taken care of by morning."

Luthor turned towards his assistant. "Why morning?"

"We are waiting for tonight's cargo to arrive before  setting off the explosives. I figured it was best to  dispense with all the incriminating evidence at once. Was I  mistaken, sir?"

Luthor turned back to look out over the city once again.

"No, Nigel. I want you to oversee this matter personally.  Ensure that it's done right," he said before summarily  dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois glanced over at Clark as he sat silently behind the  wheel of her jeep staring out at the dark night. Looking  outside the jeep herself, she realized that the dark seemed  more oppressive now than it had only an hour earlier - as  if the human suffering she'd been witness to on that ship  had somehow made the night itself more ominous.

Lois wished she could go home, wash the smell of that ship  out of her hair and clothes, soak in a warm bath until the  sweet smell of the perfumed soaps chased away the visions  still haunting her.

But this wasn't over yet. When she had been on the ship,  the man had talked about trucks that would be arriving soon  to take the people to their destination. And they had to  follow this through to the end.

Clark had insisted on being behind the wheel. She had  objected, but the argument had been fairly superficial.  After all, he was right. She really didn't feel well enough  to be driving.

She snuck another look at the man beside her. He had  probably saved her life tonight. If she had been alone, she  likely would have been found passed out when the men had  left the cargo hold. Where Clark had found the strength to  actually carry her out of the ship - and without being  spotted, too - she had no idea. But he had done so. Then he  had tenderly cared for her while she struggled to regain  control. Whatever Clark Kent was hiding, it didn't make him  a danger to her. That realization made her feel better than  she had since Jimmy had told her what his research into  Clark Kent had turned up - or, more accurately, what it  hadn't turned up.

"There's a van from the funeral home," Clark whispered,  cutting through the silence of the darkened vehicle.

"Probably coming to collect the bodies," Lois responded.  Clark nodded.

"The documents you have connect this ship to Harlan Black,  right?" Clark asked after another moment of silence.

"That's right."

"During your research into Black this morning, did you see  any businesses which might require large amounts of cheap  labor?"

Lois was silent for a long moment. "No," she finally said.  "So you think he's smuggling cheap labor in for someone  else?"

"That would be the logical conclusion."

"So then, we still don't know the whole story," said Lois  thoughtfully.

"That would be my guess," Clark concluded before falling  silent, allowing Lois to consider this new idea.

It was only minutes later when they saw men from the ship  appear carrying two burlap sacks which were about the size  and shape of a person down to the waiting truck. Lois  pulled a camera out from behind the seat and began snapping  pictures.

The men who had been driving, got back in the truck and  headed away just as a number of large, unmarked, enclosed  trucks made their way onto the dock. The transfer of people  from the ship to the dock was relatively quick. The silent  throngs of people were stuffed into the backs of trucks, as  if cargo, while men with guns stood on the sidelines,  ensuring unconditional compliance. The doors were closed  and padlocks were affixed to the back. Again, Lois snapped  pictures, only stopping long enough to put another roll of  film in the camera. Other than the sound of the camera  clicking, Lois and Clark both watched in absolute silence.

When the trucks pulled away, Clark started the engine and  shifted into drive. They waited until the convoy was a good  distance ahead of them before following, being careful not  to be spotted. The task was difficult given the lack of  other traffic on the streets. So when the trucks began  pulling in to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city,  Clark pulled over to the side of the road.

Glancing over his glasses, he continued to watch the  trucks, silently debating with himself about going to the  police immediately. However, if he did that, it would tip  off Luthor and then they would never catch him. On the  other hand, Clark was concerned about these people. Maybe  he would just have to give up on his plan to use this  enterprise as a way of exposing Luthor.

When he had become aware of what the ships were smuggling  into the country last night, he'd been mortified. The  living conditions had been so much worse than substandard  that it had sickened Clark. But at the time, he had  believed that the people on the ship had all been there of  their own free will. And maybe that was how the voyage had  started. But the guns and the locks he had seen tonight  made it obvious that these people were now prisoners. He  couldn't just leave them there.

"We have to contact the police," Clark finally said. If  calling the police tipped off Luthor, he would just have to  deal with that. Everything inside him screamed that he  couldn't leave these people being held hostage for one more  night.

"No!" Lois exclaimed immediately.

"But..."

"Listen to me, Clark," she said, turning towards him. "From  what we learned on that ship, these people are trying to  escape from something in China. What happens if we call the  police and these people are sent back to China? Without  knowing what will happen to them there, we might be signing  their death warrants by calling the police."

"We can't just leave them here, Lois. We don't even know  what type of conditions they are being held in. What if..."

"Then we take a look - make sure they will be safe here for  the night. And we spend tomorrow trying to find out what is  waiting for them back in China."

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. She was  right. They might solve the immediate problem only to cost  these people their lives as a result.

"Okay, then we check this out. If it looks as if they will  be safe here, we give it one more day. But if there is any  danger of even one more of them losing their lives  tonight..."

"We call the police," Lois said, opening the door and  getting out of the vehicle.

It was twenty minutes later before they had their answer.  It seemed that whoever was holding these people wanted to  make sure that no more people died.  With a little  judicious use of superpowers, they had been able to sneak  into the warehouse and had discovered tables loaded down  with a large quantity of food and that there appeared to be  an adequate number of cots.

"Satisfied?" she asked when they crawled back into the  jeep.

He narrowed his eyes and thought about her question.

"One day," he finally said.

"One day," she responded. "Okay, let's head back to the  Daily Planet. We need to find out who owns that warehouse  and track down who owns those trucks. And we need to find  out why these people are fleeing China."

He shook his head. "We can do that in the morning."

"But..."

"It's after three o'clock in the morning. Come on, don't  you ever sleep?"

She was about to object but then decided against it. He was  right. She was exhausted.

"Okay, how about we meet at the Planet at nine?" she  suggested.

"Fine. Now, where am I taking you?"

She looked over at him. "Shouldn't that be, where am I  taking you? This is my car, after all, even if you are  driving."

"Look, I could use a walk to clear my head after what we  found tonight. And I'm not sure you're stable enough to be  behind the wheel yet. So why don't I drive you home and  then walk from there?"

Too tired to argue, Lois simply said, "Fine," before  leaning her head back against the headrest.

"So where are we going?" he asked.

"344 Clinton St."

* * * * * * * * *

Lois lay in the dark. Although she could hardly keep her  eyes open, she was also unable to sleep. When she arrived  home, she took that long bath, hoping to wash the smell of  human suffering from her. Still, it seemed to cling, as if  embedded in the hairs of her nose. Once she had emerged  from the tub, she'd dressed in an old sweatshirt of her  father's which hung almost to her knees and crawled into  bed.

The bath. The outfit. All of it was designed to sooth and  comfort. Yet she still couldn't sleep. And although part of  her was upset by what she had seen in the belly of that  ship - the press of human flesh, stuffed into spaces which  were not designed to transport humans. That wasn't what was  keeping her awake. The problem was that she couldn't seem  to get Clark Kent out of her mind.

Who was this man? He was obviously not who he said he was.  Clark Kent had been the victim of man's cruelty towards his  fellow man. Who was the man who had taken his identity?  Normally, when someone lied to her, she had no problem  cutting them loose. So what made Clark Kent different?

Okay, so he had saved her life today. But that wasn't all  there was to it. There was this... connection. She couldn't  explain it, but it felt as if she had known him all her  life. Letting him drive her cherished jeep had been so  natural. That was a privilege that she didn't even grant  Lex. On the other hand, Lex didn't need to drive her jeep -  he had more than enough vehicles of his own. Still, why had  she let Clark drive?

Suddenly, there was the distant sound of an explosion,  followed almost immediately by a rumble that lightly shook  the bed. It wouldn't have been enough to wake her up, but  given the fact that she wasn't asleep... She jumped out of  bed and dashed into the other room, switching the  television on and tuning in to LNN.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 09

Boom!

Clark snapped out of sleep and spun into the Superman suit,  ready to take off less than a second after the explosion  shook the ground beneath him. Suddenly, he stopped,  realizing that he had woken up underneath Hobbs' Bridge. He  glanced around to see a drunk who had been sleeping under a  cardboard box looking at him strangely. Where was he?

It took a moment for reality to sink in. He was in an  alternate Metropolis and there was no Superman. He gave the  drunk a sheepish look before heading at superspeed out over  the ocean. He could only hope the man would think he was  dreaming.

Once he got out over the ocean, he took a moment to  consider the situation. When he left Lois' place, his  intention had been to check on the immigrants and then go  back to his parents' hay loft. But after checking to be  sure the immigrants were all right, he changed his mind.  The immigrants were fine, but Luthor was still out there.  And if Luthor found out about Lois' investigation, Lois  might be in danger.

As a result, Clark had decided to stay in Metropolis. He  didn't want to be out of earshot if Lois needed his help.  He had tried going back to the Daily Planet, but the window  he had left open last night was again locked. So he had  decided to sleep where he probably wouldn't be noticed,  under Hobbs' Bridge with the other homeless people.

He continued floating over the ocean, hoping he wasn't  being tracked by radar. Focusing on the distant skyline of  Metropolis, he could see a cloud of smoke drifting ever  higher above the warehouse district. He flew closer, trying  to evaluate the situation. There wasn't a Superman in this  universe, but surely there was something he could do to  help - assuming, of course, that his help was even needed.

His eyes widened when he finally realized that the smoke  was not just coming from the warehouse district, it was  coming from the very warehouse where the prisoners from  tonight's ship had been taken. From the looks of it, the  fire department had already arrived and firefighters were  attempting to rescue the large number of people trapped in  the burning warehouse. But it didn't look good.

Conflicted, Clark drifted ever closer. Finally, realizing  that the firemen had almost no chance of rescuing those  people, he knew he had to do something. It was his fault  that those people were in that building, after all. Leaving  them there one more night had been his decision.

He spun back into his Clark clothes so as to be less  conspicuous and headed at a speed just less than seven  hundred and fifty miles per hour, the speed of sound - so  that he wouldn't generate a sonic boom - towards the  burning warehouse. He landed behind the building, searching  for an inconspicious way to help. He scanned the building.  The firemen were desperately trying to get the people out  through the front entrance. But the fire stood between them  and the door.

Clark glanced around, evaluating the concrete wall which  surrounded the warehouse - probably built to keep their  prisoners inside. Maybe... He moved over to the wall, using  his laser vision to create what he hoped would look like  two large cracks in the wall. With any luck, the cracks  would be attributed to the explosion. And then, quickly x- raying the warehouse to be sure it was safe, he pushed the  portion of the concrete wall he had cut so that it fell  into a deserted room in the back of the warehouse,  collapsing a portion of the wall and giving those inside a  way out through the fire.

He rushed into the warehouse, assisting people in their  attempt to escape through the route he had created.  Firemen, having heard the wall collapse, soon joined him  and together, they managed to get the poorly dressed, half  starving, terrorized people out of the building.

When the immediate danger had passed, Clark disappeared  into the night. He would leave the job of controlling the  fire up to the people trained to handle such things.

He flew immediately to the Antarctic and yelled out his  frustration to the sky. No one had died in the explosion or  resulting fire. But a number of people had suffered from  burns and smoke inhalation. If only he had called the  police earlier... He slumped down on the snow and buried  his head in his hands.

* * * * * * * * *

J.D. Templeton picked up the bowl of popcorn from the table  beside him before sitting down in front of the television.  T.V. had certainly gotten so much better in the last few  days.

Grabbing the remote, he turned down the droning voices of  the commentators to watch the scene unfold. He had to  admit, he wished the cameras were able to get a closer  look. After all, he suspected the big, blue boy-scout would  show up. But would he appear as the alien or as Kent? He  had a hundred dollar bet with himself that it would be  Kent. However, if the cameras didn't get close enough to  the action, how would he know if he won?

The fascinating thing to Templeton, however, was not  whether Superman would make an appearance, but rather the  location of the fire. It was one of Lex Luthor's  warehouses. And judging by what the commentators were  saying, the fire had been started as a result of some kind  of explosion. That was good news. It meant that in all  likelihood, the fire was intentional. And since no one in  the underworld, except perhaps Templeton himself, would  dare attack one of Luthor's properties for fear of  retribution, that meant that Luthor was blowing up one of  his own buildings.

So what possible reason could Luthor have for doing  something like that? Could it be that a particularly  annoying boy-scout was getting too close to the truth about  one of Luthor's illegal ventures?

Templeton smiled. So far, everything seemed to be going  according to plan. There was only one thing Templeton  wasn't sure about - how to go about getting Kent home when  it was over. After all, that was an integral part of the  plan.

Of course, he could just set up another time window in an  alley. But given the fact that Kent had already been fooled  by one such window, there was always the chance that Kent  would recognize it before going through. And Templeton only  had one such window at the moment. If Kent ended up with  it, Templeton's universe hopping days would be over. Then  what would happen the next time his disposable cash  reserves ran low?

He made a mental note to himself to start working on a  back-up window - just in case. Still, it probably wouldn't  be ready in time to get Kent out of his universe once  Luthor was neutralized.

No. Setting up a trap with the time window like he had done  before was an option, but not the best one. The problem was  that every other way he could think of involved letting  Kent see him. And although it would be fun having someone  to tell his whole plan to, it wasn't worth being taken back  to that insane asylum. So what other options...

Suddenly, a slow smile made its way across his face. Of  course. Herb. All he needed to do was to lay out a trail of  breadcrumbs that would lead Herb to this universe, and to  this Clark Kent. H.G. Wells would make sure that Kent made  it home again - leaving this universe a Superman free zone.

He tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Soon there  would be no Luthor, no Kent, and most especially, no  Superman. Life was good.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' eyes were riveted to the television screen as she  tried to determine what was happening. It seemed that none  of the reporters were being allowed near the scene. No  information was being provided about casualties. There was  no information on what exactly had transpired. Hell, she  couldn't even get a fix on where exactly the warehouse was  located. But she just couldn't shake the feeling that it  was quite a coincidence that she and Clark had followed the  trucks to a warehouse tonight and now a building in the  warehouse district was in flames.

There was a knock at the door, sending her eyes momentarily  to the clock. Who would be coming by her place at four- thirty in the morning? Without taking her eyes off the  television, she made her way to the door. She took a look  through the heavy curtains she had placed over the window  in the door. What was he doing here?

Without thinking about the wisdom of her actions, she  opened the door to admit her guest.

"Have you seen this?" she asked, turning her attention back  to the television.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "That's why I'm here."

She spun back towards him. He was still standing in the  doorway, the door open behind him.

"Well, don't just stand in the doorway," she said.

He sheepishly closed the door and made his way cautiously  into her apartment. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

She shook off the thought. "Okay, so what do you know?"

"Know?" he replied, still seeming distracted by something  as he looked around the room.

She followed his gaze. She thought she'd decorated the room  well. Okay, so maybe it wasn't a 'showcase' apartment. But  it was very livable with a big, comfortable couch that  could be made into a fold out bed. A large overstuffed  chair and, her favorite, a recliner which had a folded  blanket draped over the arm, just waiting for her to curl  up in it with a blanket to keep her cozy.

The pictures around the room and on the walls each had  significance - a painting by a friend, photos she had taken  during various trips which she had had professionally  framed and hung on the wall. There were trinkets picked up  during her senior year abroad, a Persian rug that had been  a birthday present from her parents, bought during a trip  to the Middle East on their second honeymoon. There were  candles everywhere so that she could achieve the atmosphere  she wanted on any given evening. There was some general  clutter, but the apartment couldn't exactly be called  messy. On the other hand, it definitely looked lived in.  But then, that was because she did live there.

Separating the living room from her bedroom were strings of  beads in the place of a door. It might not be the most  glamorous apartment, but she had worked hard to make it  into a home. And she thought she had accomplished that -  well, until Clark had walked in tonight.

"Okay, what?" she demanded.

"Huh?"

"You don't like what I've done with the place?" she asked,  gesturing around her.

"No! No, that's not it at all. I just... It's not how I  pictured it."

She gave him an odd look before dismissing the thought. She  already knew Clark was a little bit... different.

"Okay, so do you mind dropping your analysis of my  apartment and telling me what you are doing in it at four- thirty in the morning?"

"Sorry," Clark said, finally seeming to snap out of his  trance. "I just came over..." He seemed to lose his train  of thought again. Then his eyes caught sight of the  television. "There was an explosion at our warehouse," he  informed her.

"What? That is our warehouse?" She pointed to the  televison. "How do you know that's our warehouse?" She  looked over at him again, before sniffing the air. "You  smell like smoke. You've already been there, haven't you?"

"Umm...Yeah."

She thought he looked somewhat uncomfortable with his  admission.

"I thought I should find out if it was our warehouse before  coming over," he proceeded to explain. "I wasn't sure if I  should wake you, but... well, your light was on and I  thought..." His voice trailed off when she began to move,  grabbing her jacket and her car keys before heading for the  door.

"What?" she asked when she opened the door and he didn't  follow.

"Well, don't you think you should get dressed?" he asked.

She glanced down at herself, seeing her bare legs beneath  the bottom of her long sweatshirt. He was right. She had no  slacks on. In fact, she had even forgotten to put on shoes.  She must be more exhausted than she thought. Suddenly, she  found herself wondering if it was her apartment that had  him so distracted. She closed the door again and, without  responding, headed for her bedroom.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark was quiet as he drove Lois' jeep towards the  warehouse. He had insisted on driving given how droopy her  eyes seemed to be, although he had been somewhat surprised  when she simply tossed him the keys.

He glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed and her head  was resting on the headrest causing him to wonder if he  should have waited until morning before telling her about  the connection between the explosion and their warehouse.  On the other hand, he knew she would have been furious with  him had he done that.

Still, walking into her apartment had been a shock on a  number of different levels. First and foremost had been her  attire. Why did she have to look so much like his wife? Her  bare legs, showing from beneath the edge of that oversized  sweatshirt had been completely... wow! He had distracted  himself by looking at everything but her. And that had been  almost as weird. When he had realized that Lois lived at  344 Clinton, he had somehow pictured his Lois' furniture in  his old apartment. But unlike the 'show' apartment his Lois  had created, this Lois had turned her apartment into a  home.

He pulled the jeep to the side of the road as close to the  scene of the fire as he could get and turned off the  ignition. As he watched the flames from the warehouse leap  above the buildings, he found himself wondering if he  should have stayed longer. But there wasn't time now to  reconsider his decision. It was made. And if he had to,  maybe he could sneak away from Lois and see what else he  could do to help.

He looked next to him and saw that Lois' eyes were still  closed. He suspected that she had fallen asleep.

"Lois?" he asked softly.

Her eyes were instantly open and she began fumbling with  the door of the jeep, almost as if she had never been  asleep. Clark followed as she got out of the vehicle and  began pushing her way through the crowds that had gathered,  reporters and sightseers. Clark paid special attention to  the people around them looking for anyone who might be  familiar.

The corner of his mouth twitched up at what he saw. Quickly  catching up to Lois, he grabbed her arm. She turned towards  him, obviously ready to do battle with whomever was trying  to hold her back. He preempted her blast by leaning in and  whispering in her ear.

"The man over there." He jerked his head in the appropriate  direction. "I'm not sure why, but he looks familiar to me."

Lois followed his gaze and gasped.

"You know him?" Clark asked.

"Nigel St. John," she whispered. "But what would he..."

Her voice trailed off. Clark had the distinct impression  that she was silently evaluating the new information. The  image of a man with something to hide was further  exacerbated when Nigel stepped further back into the  shadows, as if trying to avoid being spotted. When Lois  continued to stand there watching Nigel, Clark spoke again.

"Shouldn't we be trying to find out what's going on?" he  asked.

The words seemed to snap Lois out of her musings and she  again began to push forward.

"Sorry, Miss. No one is allowed beyond this point," said an  officer when they finally arrived at a makeshift barrier  that had been set up. Beyond it were firefighters and  police officers and a number of people being treated by  paramedics.

"I'm Lois Lane. I'm a reporter for the Daily Planet," Lois  explained, not bothering to take her eyes off the scene  long enough to look at the officer.

"I'm sorry, Miss. No exceptions. Hey! Where do you think  you're going?"

The final sentence was said as Lois slipped under the  barrier and headed at full speed towards a group of  officers standing twenty feet away. The officer rushed  after the disobedient woman. Having no one to stop his  approach, Clark shrugged, slipped under the barrier and  followed.

"Inspector Henderson," Lois said as she approached the  officers.

Clark was pleased to see that there was someone else who  seemed to be much the same as his counterpart in Clark's  universe. He quickly reminded himself that just because the  two men looked the same didn't mean that they held the same  values.

"I'm sorry, sir," came the voice of the officer following  Lois. "I tried to stop her but..."

"That's okay, officer," Henderson said, dismissing the man  and approaching Lois. "Well, Lois, this is a surprise,"  Henderson said, the droll tone of his voice conveying his  lack of surprise. "Who would expect you to have a problem  following instructions?"

"Can the sarcasm, Henderson," Lois responded. "This time, I  might be able to help you."

His eyebrows rose. "Why? You here to confess to setting the  fire? Sergeant, take Ms. Lane into custody. She wants to  make a statement."

"Ha, ha," Lois said, swatting Clark in the chest when she  noticed the amused smirk on his face.

"Anyway, no comment," Henderson continued.

"I haven't asked any questions yet," Lois objected.

"But you will. And the answer is still 'no comment.'"

"Even if I tell you that a story I am investigating led us  to this warehouse last night?"

Henderson looked at Lois for a moment, as if evaluating  this information, before turning his attention to Clark.

"Inspector Bill Henderson," he said, extending a hand to  Clark.

"Clark Kent," Clark responded, taking the officer's hand.

"Are you with Lane?" Henderson continued. "'Cause if you  are I have to inform you that she has a habit of stepping  over the line. Watch that she doesn't drag you too far."

Lois let out a frustrated breath. "Look, Henderson," she  began again, this time speaking slowly, as if addressing an  imbecile, "just tell me one thing and if I'm wrong about  the connection between what I know and what happened here  tonight, I'll leave."

"What's the question?"

"Was this sabotage?"

Henderson looked at her for a long moment before saying,  "No comment."

"Henderson!"

"Okay, fine. Off the record?"

Lois nodded.

"We don't know yet. But it certainly looks like it may have  been."

"Then we need to talk," said Lois. "I might know who is  behind this."

Henderson narrowed his eyes and considered the woman before  him. "I have things to clean up here, so why don't we meet  in a little while? Come by the station at about nine."

"Eleven," Lois corrected.

"Fine. Eleven. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Was anyone killed?" asked Lois, watching the paramedics  working frantically in the distance.

"No," Henderson said. "Some burns, smoke inhalation, cuts  and bruises. But no one has been killed."

Lois let out a breath of relief. She was the one who had  insisted that they not call the police. She felt guilty  enough that people had been hurt. She wasn't sure how she  would have reacted if that decision had cost someone his or  her life.

Henderson turned as if he would head away.

"Inspector," said Clark, directing Henderson's attention  back to them. "Can you tell me if the fire is in danger of  spreading?"

"No. It's not. I was informed just before you arrived that  the firefighters are confident it's under control. They  should have it out shortly."

"Thank you, Inspector."

Henderson gave him a brief nod before heading away.

Lois watched him go before turning her attention back to  the people being treated by paramedics. Men, women and  children. Clark stepped closer to Lois.

"First the ship and now this," said Lois softly.

"Come on," Clark said, using a practiced hand on the small  of her back to direct her away. "Let's get some sleep.  Eleven will be early enough."

Lois nodded and was heading back towards the barrier when a  man rushed towards them from the direction of the  ambulances.

"You him," the man said in broken English.

She glanced at Clark who was suddenly looking very  uncomfortable.

"No. No. It's not me. You must have me confused with  someone else," Clark stuttered.

"Is you. You save us," the man continued, grabbing Clark's  hand and shaking it dramatically.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clark said,  withdrawing his hand and returning it to Lois' back to lead  her away.

Lois glanced back at the confused man who was now watching  them leave.

"What was that about?" she asked.

Clark shrugged. "I have no idea."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 10

Lois hit the snooze button on her alarm clock before  noticing the time.

"Oh no," she groaned, scrambling quickly to get up. She was  going to be late and she still had to... Jimmy! Turning  from her path to the shower, she picked up the phone,  dialing a familiar number.

"I'm not here," came a sleepy voice over the line.

"Jimmy, I need you to find out..."

"Lois, it's Sunday. Talk to me Monday morning."

"You snooze, you lose. Come on, Jimmy. I'll give you an  hour. You can even do it from home. You do have a computer  there, don't you?"

"Of course I have a computer," Jimmy muttered.

"Then you won't even need to get dressed. Come on, Jimmy.  This is important."

There was a long period of silence before Jimmy spoke  again.

"What do you need?"

Lois let out a breath. "I need to know who owns a warehouse  that burned down last night. You can send the results to my  email address. I'll check it later. Also, I'm going to give  you a license plate number. Find out who owns the truck."  With that, she provided him with the address of the  warehouse and the licence plate number from one of the  trucks which had transported people to the warehouse the  previous night.

"Fine," Jimmy grumbled.

"Great! Thanks, Jimmy."

"Lois?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever take a day off?"

"Ha, ha. Listen, do you remember that stuff you found about  Clark Kent?"

"Sure."

"Did you tell anyone else?"

"No. Of course not. Why?"

"I want you to lose it."

"Lois..."

"Just do it, Jimmy," Lois instructed. She got his word  before saying good-bye and hanging up the phone. Now why  had she just done that? All she knew for sure was that she  wanted to give Clark a chance to explain before blowing his  cover.

* * * * * * * * *

"What do you mean they survived?" Luthor demanded, striding  across the room until he was nose to nose with his employee  in an uncharacteristic show of temper.

"I can't explain it, sir," Nigel said, calmly retaining his  position. "My men made sure that the exits were all  blocked. But it seems that a piece of the concrete wall  surrounding the building cracked during the explosion,  falling against the building and providing an escape  route."

Luthor turned away, his mind working overtime. After a  minute, he turned back to Nigel.

"Will they be able to prove sabotage?"

"No, sir. They might have their suspicions, but no  evidence."

Luthor nodded. "Sometimes evidence is all that stands  between the criminal and the respected businessman." Luthor  went quiet for another minute. "Are you sure you got all of  Black's documents?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, then unless Black talks, it can't be linked back to  me. The people who were being held at the warehouse for  transportation to our factories probably won't know where  they were scheduled to be taken. But even if they have  heard something, it will only be hearsay. They won't know  for sure."

Luthor was thoughtful for a moment more. "So the only link  is Black. And even if Black does talk..." His voice trailed  off. "To rely on the testimony of a coconspirator, there  has to be some supporting evidence. And since he doesn't  have any... Still, I don't need the hassle - especially  with Lois. Set up a meeting with Black - discretely, of  course. I want to have a little chat with him, remind him  exactly how far my reach extends - even into Metropolis'  prison system."

"Yes, sir."

Luthor walked to the balcony. "It would be best to keep  Black alive if we can - someone to take the rap. But I want  to make sure we can really rely on him. Otherwise... I  suppose it is possible that Black, so distraught by the  thought of going to prison, might decide to commit  suicide."

"An intriguing possibility, sir."

Luthor glanced back at his aid. "Isn't it, though. Be  prepared to be sure he does if my talk with him doesn't go  well."

* * * * * * * * *

"I take it you and Catherine didn't end up getting away for  the weekend after all," said Lois while she and Clark were  being ushered into Henderson's office.

Clark's eyebrows rose. It had briefly occurred to him to  wonder if there was a connection between Cat's change of  name and the Inspector. But he had dismissed the idea of  husband and wife as too outrageous. The flamboyant playgirl  and the droll police officer. Who would have ever thought  it?

"You know how it is," responded Henderson before sighing.  "If it's not her job, it's mine."

Lois gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. Then, as if some  sort of switch had been flicked, both Lois and Bill became  all business.   "So tell me what you know," said Henderson, pulling his  office door closed and taking a seat.

"This isn't a one way conversation, Henderson."

"It never is," Henderson muttered. "But if you have  information pertinent to this investigation, you could be  charged with obstruction unless you make full disclosure  now."

"Whatever happened to a free press?" Lois demanded.

"I don't know. When did you start charging for your  papers?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "No way, Henderson. I have no  obligation to give up my sources. But for you..." She  smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.

"What do you want?"

"The exclusive. We want to be kept informed of your  investigation, step by step."

Henderson let out a breath. "You can't go to print with any  information I give you until we make arrests."

"Deal. Unless, of course, you decide there is insufficient  evidence to lay charges."

"Fair enough. Okay, then you go first."

Lois glanced over at Clark who nodded his agreement. Then,  turning back to Henderson, she proceeded to fill him in on  their investigation to date.

"We were planning to pick up from the warehouse today," she  concluded. "I've got a researcher at the Daily Planet  looking into who owns the warehouse."

"Not necessary," said Henderson.

Lois and Clark looked at each other. "Who?" they asked in  unison.

"Maybe you should ask your boyfriend."

"Lex?"

Henderson nodded. "Luthor came in first thing this morning  to find out what we were doing to find out who had done  this to his warehouse. Apparently, he was leasing the  warehouse to a company which turns out to be a shell  company. Our experts say there is no way to trace the  company so I guess that's a dead end."

"Unless you start with Black - see if anything in his books  leads to the shell company," suggested Clark.

Henderson nodded. "Good idea, Kent."

"What about the trucks that took the immigrants to the  warehouse?"

"Trucks?"

Lois nodded and gave him a licence number.

Henderson immediately turned to his computer. After a  moment, he punched in a licence number. The answer came  back immediately.

"It's leased to the shell company," Henderson informed  them.

"So if you can't tell us who is leasing the warehouse or  who owns the trucks, what can you tell us?" asked Lois.

"I can tell you that everyone miraculously managed to  survive. Although, there were a lot of injuries, all the  way from burns to smoke inhalation. As far as the cause of  the explosion is concerned... Right now, investigators are  focusing on a faulty gas line."

"So it wasn't sabotage?"

"They're still looking at the evidence, but so far they  can't say for sure one way or another and, according to  them, they might never know. What they can say is that if  it was sabotage, it was done by someone who knew what he  was doing." Henderson took a breath. "Of course, given what  you've told me about this particular warehouse, I suspect  sabotage is more likely. Did anyone know that you were  working on this story? Could it be someone's attempt to  cover his tracks?"

"I don't see how. Only Clark and I knew what we were  working on. Oh, and Cath," Lois said. "I sent her a message  before we started looking into it. You aren't suggesting  your wife is involved in this, are you?"

Henderson rolled his eyes. "What about your computer at  work? Or your notes? Could someone else at the Planet have  obtained the information?"

"I guess, but I didn't leave any notes on this story at the  Planet. And my computer is password protected."

"Does anyone know your password?"

Lois thought about that for a minute. "Maybe. I had a  partner once upon a time. He might know it. I haven't  changed my password for years. But why would he..." Her  voice trailed off and she was lost in thought as the image  of Dan Scardino sitting on the edge of her desk, trying to  get a look at her computer screen invaded her mind. "No. He  wouldn't have told anyone what I was working on."

"Are you sure?" asked Clark.

"I'm sure," said Lois, giving Clark a look that definitely  said 'later.' "So what else do you have?"

"That's basically it. Oh, except that the refugees from  that warehouse won't talk. Of course, if they are illegals,  that would explain the reluctance. Except for one thing."

"What?"

"I don't know if it means anything, but many of them keep  talking about this mysterious man who showed up and saved  them. They are calling him..." He flipped through his notes  for a moment. "Uhh... Here it is." He struggled with the  unfamiliar words for a moment before saying, "'Da sea-an.'  Apparently, it means 'oh great heavenly being.' Or..." He  looked back at his notes before doing a double take.  Apparently, giving up pronouncing the next words, he  continued. "Well, they are also calling him the 'dragon  king' or 'tan s-ea-z' which means 'angel.' It almost sounds  like the angel has struck again."

"Angel?" asked Lois.

"You know, the man who allegedly saved the woman and her  daughter in the traffic accident yesterday. You two  wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Lois glanced over at Clark who had an unexpected amount of  color in his face and was suddenly shifting nervously. Her  mind drifted back to the stranger's comment last night.  'You save us.'

"No, Henderson," Lois said. "We didn't get to the warehouse  until after the police and firefighters arrived."

* * * * * * * * *

"Why are you so sure that Scardino isn't involved in this?"  asked Clark the moment they stepped out of the police  station.

"I'm not," she replied.

"But..."

"But I'm not going to get Dan in trouble over what might be  nothing." To his look, she continued. "I'm not a fool,  Clark. I'll keep an eye on Dan. I just don't want to tip my  hand by having police officers question Dan and let him  know that I suspect him. Besides, it's not as if I'm  holding back any facts from Henderson. I don't know if Dan  is involved. I only held back... suspicions."

"Semantics, Lois."

"Whatever. All I know is that if our investigation of Black  doesn't lead us to his partner in crime, I want an ace in  the hole. If Dan is involved, he's not working for himself.  I want whomever he is reporting to."

"So what's next?"

"We pay Harlan Black a visit," Lois responded without  hesitation.

"And say what?" asked Clark. "Hi, Mr. Black, do you help  illegal immigrants enter the country and then sell them to  a third party as slave labor?"

"Something like that."

"Something like that?" Clark mumbled. He put his hand on  Lois' arm, stopping her and directing her attention to him.  "Lois, I'm not sure the direct approach is going to work  here. After all, we don't have a lot on Black. He owns  Perpetual Pines and he owns the ship that arrived last  night. But other than that, what do we have? He's just  going to claim that although he owns both those  enterprises, he leaves the day to day operation to others."

"So what do you suggest, Clark? That we just sit back while  he decides to kill off every illegal he smuggled into the  country on the off chance that one of them can link him to  this?"

"Of course not, but..."

Lois had begun to walk again. Clark jogged to catch up  before once again grabbing her arm to stop her.

"We can't go in the front door, Lois. Why don't we try  going in the back?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, didn't you do some research on Black? What did you  find out?"

"Not much. A number of business interests. No living  family. Spends most of his time at some exclusive club in  the city."

"His club," Clark said. "Why don't we begin by seeing what  we can find there?"

She looked at him for a moment before a smile lit up her  face. "Are you sure you haven't done this before, Kent?"  she asked.

"You'd be surprised," he responded.

A flicker of something seemed to cross her face for a  moment before disappearing.

"So let's go," she said, heading again towards her jeep.

"Umm... did you say this club is exclusive?" he asked,  striding to catch up to her.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I assume that means it's an all men's club."

"What does that have to do with anything, Kent? Are you  expecting me to just sit back and let you..."

"Of course not. I just thought..."

"Yes," she demanded, stopping to face him, her arms folded  challengingly across her chest.

"In your line of work there must have been times in the  past where being a woman has been a hindrance in gaining  the access you needed," he said. "So what did you do then?"

She seemed surprised for a moment before a pleased look  crossed her face.

"Come on," she said, turning towards her jeep once again.  "We need to make a stop at my apartment. I need to change."

Clark smiled, indisputably pleased with himself. In his  universe, Lois had confronted the doorman when she had been  denied admission to Harlan Black's club, starting a battle  of sorts between the men and women in Clark's life. By  suggesting before hand that she might want to consider  another option, he had managed to avoid that fight and even  make Lois think it was her idea.

It was almost over. During Clark's investigation the other  night, he had discovered documentation in Harlan Black's  safe that would link Lex Luthor to Black's illegal  smuggling operation. And given the little hints they had  been finding along the way, there was no way Lois would be  able to ignore the evidence they were going to stumble upon  in that safe.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 11

After leaving the station, Lois and Clark headed back to  her apartment so that she could get changed into her  disguise - a baggy suit, thick black moustache and hair  stuffed under a hat. To Clark, the disguise was unable to  mask the very feminine movements of her body. Still, people  tended to see what they expected to see.

Once she had changed, she checked her email to find a  message from Jimmy. Jimmy apparently confirmed that the  warehouse and truck were, at least for the time being, a  dead end. The warehouse was owned by Luthor but leased to a  company which was impossible to trace. That same company  owned the trucks which had been used to transport the  illegal immigrants from the ship.

After stopping at Lois' place, they headed out to Black's  club. Getting inside during the day had been easier than  anticipated, due to Lois' casual comment to Clark as they  approached which allowed the doorman to think that they  were business associates of Lex Luthor. From there, getting  into Black's office had been simple.

"Please!" said Lois skeptically to Clark's suggestion.  "Okay, fine. You give it a try."

Clark watched Lois tuck a loose strand of hair under her  black cap as she moved away from the safe. He smiled  slightly, before squatting down beside the safe and turning  the combination lock, watching over his glasses as the  tumblers fell into place.

"Oh, please. You don't know the first thing about opening  safes, do you? You have to listen for the tumblers to  click. You need to have your ear pressed against the..."

Click.

"Done," said Clark triumphantly, turning the handle and  pulling open the door. Lois rushed over, looking inside the  open safe.

"How did you..." she began.

"Beginner's luck, I guess."

Lois looked at him for a long moment before turning her  attention to the contents of the safe. Clark stepped aside  to allow her to find the documents he knew were there.

"Nothing," she said after a moment. "Unless you're in the  market for..."

"What do you mean, 'nothing?'" Clark demanded, dropping to  his knees in front of the safe and beginning to dig through  it for the documents he knew were there - the documents  guaranteed to prove to Lois that Luthor was involved in  this travesty. He quickly searched the contents of the safe  before rocking back onto his heals. "Nothing," he breathed.  "They're gone."

Clark's mind was spinning. He knew the evidence against  Luthor had been in that safe two nights ago. That had to  mean that Luthor had somehow found out about their  investigation and was doing it again. That man had the  uncanny ability to protect his hide. In any universe, he  seemed to have a sixth sense about how and when to cover  his tracks. The only hope Clark had of getting Lois to see  the truth about her fiance was gone.

Lois squatted down beside him. "What's going on, Clark?  What did you expect to find in here? What's gone?"

"That's what I'd like to know, too," said a voice behind  both Lois and Clark, causing them to spin towards the man's  voice.

An older man was standing in the doorway holding a gun on  them. Clark recognized him immediately. Apparently, so did  Lois. He saw Lois reach discretely into her pocket.  Glancing at the pocket of her jacket over his glasses, he  smiled when her finger push the record button on a small  tape recorder.

"Harlan Black, isn't it?" said Lois, rising slowly to her  feet.

"And you are?"

"Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet. And this is  Clark Kent."

Clark could see the confusion on the man's face as he  struggled to reconcile the feminine name and voice with the  slight man with a black mustache. Lois must have realized  it, too. Because she reached up and with a slight intake of  breath, ripped off the mustache. Then she removed the black  cap, shaking her head to allow her hair to tumble onto her  shoulders.

"That doesn't give you the right to break into my office,"  Black said, moving slowly towards a phone.

"Calling the police?" Lois asked. "So what are you going to  tell them when they ask what we're doing here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The ship. The illegal immigrants. Burying the bodies of  those who died en route in graves meant for unclaimed  bodies from the city. We know it all."

"You have no proof of this," Black responded, his hand  coming to rest on the phone.

"Except for invoices from the ship," Lois countered. "Not  to mention what we saw on that ship. When we tell the jury  every sound, every sight and every smell, they are going to  be looking to crucify someone."

Black nodded, looking thoughtfully between his two  prisoners.

"You're right," he finally said. "No police. We're going to  deal with this in a different fashion. It's too bad that  this new plan requires your deaths."

He stepped forward, pushing them towards the door.

"Where are you taking us?" asked Clark, as they stepped out  into the deserted hallway.

"Somewhere they won't find the bodies. Bet you're wishing I  had called the police now, huh?"

"One thing I don't understand, Black," Lois said as Black  directed them through the door to the fire escape stairway.

"Oh, and what's that," Black asked, pushing them ahead of  him down the stairs.

"Why not just give those who die a burial at sea? Wouldn't  that be safer than bringing them into Metropolis with you?"

Harlan laughed. "We do give burials at sea. The problem is  that most of them die during the last days of the trip. And  we can't very well dump them once we enter Metropolis  Harbor. After all, we don't want the bodies washing up on  shore.

"It really is a waste," Harlan continued. "After we spend  all that money on food to get them here and they die just  before they arrive. I've been meaning to talk to my people  in China about that. They need to be screened better."

Lois felt slightly ill. Still, she pressed on. "But you  don't own any factories where you could make use of slave  labor. So who are you providing this service for?"

The amused chuckle that came from behind was followed by  Black stepping up close behind Lois, digging the barrel of  his gun into her ribs as he leaned against her to push the  outside door open in front of her.

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend?" he breathed.

Clark heard the words as well as the sharp intake of breath  from Lois and then all hell seemed to bust lose.  Afterwards, Clark would forever wonder who had moved first.  Lois spinning towards Black. Clark grabbing Lois and  pulling her in front of him. Black firing the gun. What he  did know was that he felt the hard slam of the bullet  against his back as he held Lois protectively. Before Black  could fire a second shot, Clark released Lois, spinning  around and snatching the gun out of Black's hand. Grabbing  the man by his shirt, Clark slammed him against the wall.

"Clark?" he heard Lois gasp.

"Call the police, Lois," Clark responded.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' hands were shaking as she pushed the 'end' button on  her cell phone. Everything had happened so fast. It had  taken a moment for the adrenalin rush to catch up to her.  But now that it had she was unable to stop shaking.

"Are they on their way?" asked Clark, looking back at her  while he continued to hold Harlan Black against the wall.

She nodded.

"Okay, then do me a favor. Take my belt off. I'm going to  use it to tie up Mr. Black's hands while we wait."

She took a steadying breath and stepped up behind him.  Reaching around, she undid his belt and began sliding it  out of his trousers, pushing up his jacket at the back as  she did. Her eyes suddenly caught sight of something which  made her heart come to an abrupt halt.

"You've been hit," she breathed, her finger going to the  bullet hole in the back of his jacket. Suddenly, her hands  began searching him, looking for the wound, looking for  blood.

"I wasn't hit," Clark responded definitively. "Lois, the  belt."

Not quite sure what to do, or what was real, she followed  his instructions. The belt. Removing it, she handed it to  Clark who immediately used it to tie up Harlan Black. Lois  found herself continually stealing glances at Clark while  he dealt with their prisoner. He looked fine. But that  bullet hole? Everything seemed to take on an unreal  quality. She could hear Black babbling on about making a  deal. He was promising to give them Lex. But somehow, none  of the words were completely penetrating Lois' mind. All  she seemed able to do was relive that fateful moment.

Grabbing for the gun.

Being spun out of Harlan's grasp and held by Clark.

Hearing the sound of a gun firing.

Feeling a small push forward as if the bullet had struck  the man holding her.

Clark turning and grabbing Harlan Black.

She was barely aware of the arrival of Bill Henderson or  the sudden swarming of police officers. She answered the  resulting questions automatically - keeping exactly how  Black had been disarmed deliberately vague. Not that she  was entirely certain she could have done otherwise.

"Listen, can I get something to drink?" asked Lois,  suddenly feeling a little light-headed. Two male faces  turned towards her. And then she was being sat down.

"Are you okay, Lois?" came Clark's concerned voice as he  squatted in front of her. Henderson seemed to disappear.  "You weren't shot, were you?"

"I wasn't..." She reached up a hand and laid it on Clark's  face. She didn't understand. He looked okay. But how was  that possible? "Are you okay?" she asked.

His hand came up and covered hers. He gave her a gentle  smile. "I'm fine, Lois."

"Fine. Fine? But..." her voice trailed off in confusion. He  looked fine. But it made no sense. She'd stuck her finger  in the bullet hole in his suit jacket. Yet there was no  blood. Was he a ghost? Maybe he just didn't know that he  was dead. Still, he felt real enough.

"I'm fine," he assured her again. "I promise you."

She nodded slightly, still not completely reassured. Just  then, Henderson returned, holding a bottle of water. He  opened it and handed it to Lois who gratefully raised it to  her lips.

"Listen, Inspector, I'd like to get Lois home. Do you think  the questioning could continue tomorrow?" asked Clark.

"Sure," Henderson replied. "Does she need medical  attention?"

"I think she's just in shock. Don't worry, I'll take care  of her."

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Lois objected,  provoking a smile from both Clark and Henderson.

"She seems to be coming around already," Henderson replied.  "Oh, before you go, now that we have Black on attempted  murder, he's trying to make a deal."

"To give you Lex?" asked Lois.

Henderson's eyes returned to hers and he nodded. "But he  doesn't seem to have any supporting evidence. Claims he was  robbed yesterday by someone who only took the documents  linking him to Mr. Luthor. Pretty far fetched if you ask  me. So I don't want you jumping to conclusions. He's  probably just grasping at straws."

"Is he making any suggestions about how to prove Lex's  involvement?" asked Lois. Judging by Henderson's  expression, her question surprised him.

"Yeah. He's claiming that Luthor's man called to set up a  meeting between him and Luthor tomorrow morning. He's  offering to wear a wire. But he wants a deal - not only for  his attempted murder of the two of you but for everything  you told me about illegal immigrants. And he's wanting to  be put in the witness protection program - claims Luthor  will kill him if he gets the chance."

"Make the deal," said Lois, rising to her feet.

"But..."

"I have to know, Bill," she said softly, keeping her eyes  firmly on his.

"Make the deal, Inspector," Clark added.

Henderson looked back and forth between the two of them  before nodding. "I'll talk to the D.A. I can't promise  anything. But I'll try. I assume you want to be in on the  sting operation."

"That's our only condition," said Clark, causing Lois to  smile. He learned fast.

"Fine. I'll call you later with the details, assuming, of  course, that the deal is made. After all, there is no way  the D.A. will grant Black full immunity - given the  seriousness of the crimes. So Black will have to be willing  to accept that some time in prison will be required. That  makes any deal a hard sell. But if he really is scared of  Luthor, he might accept a deal that guarantees his safety.  Can I call you at the Planet to let you know what happens?"

"No, I'll be taking her home," said Clark. "I suggest you call her there."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 12

Clark looked over at Lois as he pulled the jeep to a stop  in front of her apartment. She hadn't said as much as a  single word since they had left the men's club, seemingly  lost in thought. Part of him was concerned that she was  still in shock. On the other hand, he was also concerned  about what else might be going through her mind.

He knew he had to broach the topic with her about alternate  universes if he was going to get her help to find his way  home. It was a topic he wasn't entirely certain how to  start, but he'd much rather be the one to raise the subject  than be forced into it. The problem was that he had no idea  what was occupying her mind at the moment. His Lois had  seen and heard a lot of strange things without making the  leap between him and Superman. Here, there was no Superman  so the leap would be even more difficult - wouldn't it?

She opened her door and he followed suit. When they were  finally on the sidewalk in front of her place, he spoke.

"Umm... Maybe I should..." He gestured down the street.  "You seem to be fine and... I'll call later to find out  what Henderson..."

"You are not going anywhere, Clark," she said, leaving no  room for argument. "We need to talk." She headed up the  steps towards her apartment. Clark stood on the sidewalk  for a moment before sighing and following.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois waited until Clark closed the door before turning  towards him. He was nervously playing with his hands.

"Give me your jacket, Clark," she said evenly. He seemed  taken back by the demand, but when she simply raised her  eyebrows and continued to watch him, he slipped off his  suit jacket and handed it to her.

She turned the jacket around before sticking her finger  through the small, round hole in the back, her eyes  remaining fixed on him.

"I got that some time ago when..." he began.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Clark," she interrupted.  "Turn around," she continued, before he could respond.

He did and she inspected the back of his shirt. It was  obvious that he wasn't wearing any sort of bullet proof  vest. Yet, there was no hole and no blood, both reassuring  her that he hadn't been hurt and scaring her with how  unreal all of this seemed. He had been shot. She was sure  of it. But it hadn't hurt him. How was that possible?

She was about to toss the jacket over the banister when she  suddenly became aware of the weight in his inside pocket.  She reached inside, removing both his wallet and the  newspaper article she knew were there. She tossed the items  to him. He caught them deftly.

"Start talking, Clark," she said.

"I don't..."

"Fine! Let me start. Your driver's license says that you're  Clark Kent, born February 28, 1966. But Clark Kent was  killed when he was eleven. You have a number of credit  cards - none of which are valid. You show up with a tip  which led us to uncover a criminal plot apparently  orchestrated by my fiance. And in your pocket is a  newspaper article about my engagement, taken from the paper  on the day before we met."

She began pacing as she continued. She was on a roll now.  "We go to the ship. I almost pass out or maybe I do pass  out. In any event, when I come to, we are safely off the  ship. How did you carry me out without being spotted?  You're a strong guy, but carrying me up those narrow stairs  without anyone noticing up was a superhuman feat.

"Then you show up here last night, smelling like smoke.  When we go to the warehouse, someone comes up, thanking you  for rescuing him. We find out today from Henderson that  there was some mystery man who the illegal immigrants are  claiming saved their lives.

"You got shot today. I felt it, Clark. I know that bullet  struck you. And, although the bullet made a hole in your  jacket, you weren't hurt.

"So as you can imagine, I want some questions answered.  What are you? Are you a guardian angel or something, sent  here to protect me?"

His eyebrows rose, as if amused by her question. "No,  Lois," he said softly. "I'm not an angel - nowhere near."

"Then what are you? Who are you?"

Clark looked at her for another moment before his  expression softened and he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"It's just that I should have known you wouldn't miss a  trick. Maybe she was too distracted by Superman's  appearance to see the things that I was doing."

"Who?"

Clark let out a breath. "You're right. You should know the  whole story. I'll tell you what. I could really use a cup  of coffee. And this is going to take some time - if you  want to know everything."

She looked at him for a moment before nodding and heading  to the kitchen to make coffee. She suspected he needed a  moment to figure out exactly where to begin, given all the  unrelated questions she had thrown at him. She could give  him that. Besides, she still felt somewhat shaky from their  close call with Harlan Black. The menial task of making  coffee might help her calm down. And it was almost supper  time so a bite to eat might be in order.

She glanced over at Clark. He looked perplexed. It occurred  to her to wonder when he might have last eaten. She knew he  had eaten, in fact he had practically inhaled, the sandwich  she'd bought for him yesterday. But judging by the contents  of his wallet, she suspected he hadn't had money for supper  last night or breakfast this morning. And they had been too  busy to worry about lunch today. In fact, where had he  slept last night? Had he somehow managed to get back into  the Daily Planet? Judging by his clothes, the same clothes  he had been wearing since they met, she doubted he had  somewhere to stay.

She pushed those questions to the back of her mind and  considered what she could make for supper. Hopefully, once  he told her who he was and what this was really all about,  she would have the answers she needed.

Making her way to the freezer, she removed some chicken  breasts. Unwrapping them, she placed them on a plate and  stuck them in the microwave, setting the appliance to  defrost and hitting the 'start' button. She rustled in a  cupboard for a moment before withdrawing a pot. Filling it  with water, she added a small amount of oil and turned on  the heat.

"What are you doing?" asked Clark, joining her in the  kitchen, seemingly intrigued by her behavior, almost as if  he had never seen a woman cook before.

"Making us some supper," she responded, reaching into the  cupboard for a bowl. Then, making her way to another  cupboard, she withdrew olive oil, wine vinegar and garlic,  mixing them together.

Just then the beep sound informed her that the microwave  was done. She withdrew the chicken and poured about half of  the concoction she had just mixed over the chicken to  marinate.

"What can I do to help?" Clark asked.

She looked at him skeptically for a moment, not entirely  certain he was competent to trust with food.

"Have you ever made a salad?" she asked.

"One or two," he responded, making his way to the sink to  wash his hands.

"Okay," she said, going to the fridge and removing a number  of items. She figured if he got in over his head, she would  be right there to make things right before he could do too  much damage. She pulled out a bowl and a cutting board, as  well as a sharp knife. She handed him the knife and then  watched carefully for a moment to be sure that he knew what  he was doing. She was surprised by the competence with  which he seemed to handle the knife.

She turned her attention back to the remainder of the  marinade she had made earlier and added oregano and  parmesan cheese. Then she put the bowl beside Clark.

"Dressing," she explained when he looked at her.

Since the water was boiling, she added noodles and turned  down the heat, before turning her attention back to the  freezer. She was fairly certain she had some chocolate cake  in there from the last time she'd had company over. If she  took it out now, it should be defrosted by the time they  were finished supper.

With that done, she turned her attention back to the  chicken. Taking rosemary from her spice rack, she sprinkled  it on the chicken breasts before placing the breasts on her  George Forman grill to cook.

It was then that she noticed that Clark had finished with  the salad. Before she could give him any new instructions,  he had moved to the stove and was checking the noddles. She  watched for a moment, wondering what he would do next. When  he picked up the pot and strained the water off the  noodles, she was surprised. He seemed entirely too  comfortable in the kitchen - almost as if he had been a  chef in a previous life. Or this one.

"What did you intend to do with the noodles?" he asked.

"I was planning to sprinkle some olive oil and garlic over  them for a bit of taste."

He nodded and immediately proceeded to do as she had  instructed, making his way around her kitchen as if he  could see through the cupboards to find what he was looking  for.

Deciding he knew what he was doing, Lois turned her  attention to the chicken. She quickly turned the breasts  over and then began setting the table. She took a moment to  do a mental inventory, trying to figure out what she had  missed. Suddenly, it hit her. Bread sticks. She was certain  she had some bread sticks that would be a nice addition to  the meal.

When finished, supper was consumed in quiet companionship,  as if neither were quite ready to broach the subjects which  were pressing on their minds. However, when Lois brought  out a refill of coffee while they were finishing their  dessert, it was as if some unspoken signal was given that  it was time to deal with the issues which were outstanding  between them.

"So..." said Clark.

"So..." said Lois, picking up her coffee and taking a sip.

"Where do I begin?" Clark asked.

Lois simply watched him over the rim of her cup, waiting  for him to find his own answer.

"The problem I have here is that my story is so...  unbelievable that I'm afraid that you're going to be  tempted to call the men in the white coats when I'm  finished." He let out a breath. "Okay, here it goes. There  are some things I haven't been exactly honest about. On the  other hand, I haven't exactly lied either. My name is Clark  Kent. And I was born on February 28, 1966. And I did grow  up in Smallville, Kansas."

When she opened her mouth to object, he rushed to continue.

"Please, this will all make sense in a moment. Or... well,  sort of." Once again, he looked perplexed. "Do you remember  when I asked you if you ever read science fiction?"

"Of course, but... Alternate universes?"

"Well, yeah. I suppose it could include alien life forms as  well," he added.

"What do you take me for, Clark? I'm not a fool and I  really would appreciate it if..." Her voice trailed off  when he was suddenly floating several feet over his chair.  "But... What... How..."

He slowly floated back to the chair again. "Sorry about  that. But I needed to get your attention."

"Okay," she said slowly, her eyes watching him warily.

"I'm not trying to play you for a fool. I assure you. I  guess the best thing to do is to start at the beginning.  I'm from a planet called Krypton. I was sent to earth by my  parents just before my planet exploded. They saved my life.  I have no idea why they couldn't save their own.

"Anyway, I was found by a couple, Martha and Jonathan Kent,  who were farmers from Kansas. They found me when they were  checking out a meteor they thought had landed in a  neighbor's field. It turned out to be some sort of space  craft. Of course, they had no idea where I was from. For  all they knew, I could have been some sort of Russian  experiment. However, they had never been able to have  children of their own so they adopted me.

"A few days after they found me, men from the government  came around asking questions, inquiring about a meteor  shower in the area. My parents had a bad feeling about the  men so they hid me.

"Anyway, over the next few years, I seemed normal enough. I  might not have been as susceptible to childhood diseases  and I might have healed from injuries more quickly than  most kids, but it wasn't until I was a little older that it  became obvious just how different I was."

"So you're telling me that you aren't... human?" she asked  slowly.

He nodded.

She shook her head. "And you actually expect me to believe  all this?"

He reached over, picked up a knife off the table. He raised  it above his hand. "You said you wanted to know why I  wasn't hurt when I was shot today," he said before shocking  her by bringing the knife down hard against his hand.

"No!" she yelled, jumping from her chair and lunging at  him. She grabbed his hand with one of hers while using the  other to push away the hand with the knife. It wasn't until  then that she noticed. No blood. She turned his hand over  several times in confusion, searching for the wound she  knew was there. "How is this possible?" she breathed when  she was unable to find anything.

"I'm invulnerable," he said softly. He removed his hand  from hers and placed it under her chin, forcing her to look  at him. "There's more, Lois."

She rose to her feet and sank back into her chair before  gesturing him to continue.

"I'm also fast."

"How fast?" she asked.

He instantly became a blur. She felt wind and saw streaks  of color. When he was seated at the table again, the dishes  had all been cleared. She glanced from him to the kitchen  and noticed that all the excess food had been put away. The  plates had been scraped and were piled neatly beside the  sink, waiting to be washed.

"You couldn't wash them, too?" she asked in disbelief.

"Water still takes time to fill up the sink. My speed  doesn't change that."

She nodded slowly, her mind struggling to digest all of  this. "Is that everything?" she finally asked.

"I can start fires with my eyes, or I can warm up the bed  using the same power. I can change water into ice with my  breath, or I can take a warm bottle of wine and cool it  down to the perfect temperature in time for a romantic  supper. I can also see through everything - except lead."

"Why not lead?"

"I don't know, but..." He removed his glasses and passed  them over to her. She looked at them for a moment before  putting them on.

"They're just glass," said Lois, looking around with the  glasses on to confirm her analysis.

"Actually, they're crystal lead. I started wearing them in  my teens, when I started developing my powers. They were to  help me control my x-ray vision."

"As in making you think twice before x-raying the girls'  locker room?"

"Something like that," he replied with a laugh. "I'm also  very, very strong. I bench press cars without breaking a  sweat. I think the biggest thing I ever lifted was when I  lifted a shuttle into space."

"And I assume there's a reason I've never heard of some man  lifting a shuttle into space?"

"Don't worry. I'll get to that."

"So what else can you do?"

"Fly. But you knew that already."

"Fly. As in more than the floating that you did earlier?"

He nodded. "I usually only float when I watch football on  television - or when I dream. But yeah, I fly - like a bird  or perhaps a plane. That's how I got to the fire last  night." When her eyebrows went up, he continued. "I was  asleep when I heard the explosion. I spun into... Well,  anyway, I flew out over the ocean and then used my enhanced  vision to watch the fire. When I realized that the people  in that building were trapped, I flew in and discreetly  knocked down a wall to help them escape."

"Why discreetly? If you have these powers, why not use them  openly? Can you imagine how much good you could do if  you..."

"And I'd have no life. I'd be the subject of constant  speculation and everyone would want a piece of me. Every  bad guy whose plan I thwarted would seek revenge on my  friends and family. Scientists would want to study me. I'd  become nothing more than a lab rat."

"But there must be some way you can help?"

"There is," Clark interrupted. "But that brings me to part  two of my explanation."

"There's more?"

Clark nodded. "I saved this part for last because this part  I can't prove. You're going to simply have to take it on  faith."

"Well, if there's more, I'm going to need a glass of wine.  And why don't we take this into the living room?"

Lois got up and walked over to the wine rack, pulling down  a bottle of white wine. She looked at it for a moment  before holding it out to Clark. He seemed to understand the  hint, getting up and coming over to take the bottle from  her. She stepped away, ostensibly to get the glasses, but  never did her eyes leave him or the bottle in his hands.

She noticed the hint of a smile cross his lips before he  blew gently on the bottle. She blindly reached into the  cupboard to get the wine glasses. Almost immediately, the  outside of the bottle frosted up.

"Do you want me to open it, too?" he asked, turning towards  her.

Her hand slipped as she attempted to remove a glass and the  glass tumbled from the cupboard to shatter into pieces on  the floor. Only... there was no shatter. Moving too fast  for her to see, he was suddenly there, snatching the  falling item from mid-air and holding it out to her.

She gasped, stumbling back into the counter. She'd seen it  once, but... She shook her head, trying to get a grasp on  the situation. Was she dreaming? Was she having some sort  of weird mental breakdown? What the hell was going on?

"Why don't you have a seat in the livingroom, Lois?" Clark  asked softly, taking her arm and directing her in the  appropriate direction. "I'll take care of this."

"Seat. Good. Yeah, right. I'll just have..." She gestured  towards the couch. "You just..." She gestured towards him.  Then she stood, silently staring at him again, still  struggling to put all this weirdness into some familiar  frame of reference.

She watched in awe as he popped the cork out of the wine  without the benefit of a corkscrew and poured two glasses.  He set the bottle on the counter and picked up both  glasses, walking towards her, a concerned look on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Okay? Was she okay? She wasn't entirely sure. Still, she  nodded, finally stumbling backwards to take a seat on the  couch.

"Good," he said. "Then why don't we talk. I'll try not to  do anything else weird."

"No, Clark," she said, shaking her head as conscious  thought once again became possible. "Don't stop that on my  account. I mean, it might sort of... shock me. But it's  fascinating. Do you think you could show me something else?  That fire from the eyes thing sounded sort of cool."

Clark laughed before heading for a chair across from her.  He took a seat before leaning forward to hand her a glass  of wine.

"Why don't we leave further demonstrations for later?"  Clark suggested. "There's still more I need to tell you.  And then I'm going to need your help."

"My help? For what?"

"You'll understand in a minute. I think you had another  question for me earlier." He paused, obviously trying to  get his thoughts together while she tried to remember what  else she had asked him. "You wanted to know how I could be  Clark Kent when Clark Kent was killed years ago."

"I just assumed that you didn't die. After all, fire  doesn't hurt you."

"Not now, no. But when I was eleven, although I was a  lot... tougher than other kids, I was still vulnerable. And  then there is this rock. It's a green crystal of sorts. I  named it Kryptonite - well, with the help of... a friend."

Lois made a mental note to ask about this 'friend.' There  was something about the way he said the word that made her  think it hadn't been his first choice of for a description  of this person. Was it a girlfriend? A lover? Maybe it was  his wife - after all, there was still the wedding ring on  his finger.

"I think I'm getting ahead of myself here. Let me start at  the beginning." He let out a slow breath. "What is the  beginning?" he asked, glancing over at Lois. "Okay, how  about this? On Thursday, June 17, I got up in the morning,  got dressed and went to work. After having lunch with L...  my wife, she dropped me off at work and headed out to a  doctor's appointment. She's been feeling a little under the  weather lately. Anyway, I heard a call for help so I  spun... flew off to help. That's when things got really  weird. I flew through what felt like a wall of water. And  suddenly, I was in Kansas."

"And where were you before?"

"Metropolis."

"Okay, so maybe you flew really fast," she said, still  trying to come to terms with the casual reference he'd made  to his wife and the fact that he lived in Metropolis.

"No that's not it. Trust me, from here it gets really  weird. I discovered that not only was I in Kansas, but I  was only a short distance from the Kent farm. So I headed  there, hoping to figure out what was going on." He took a  deep breath. "But something had happened. I saw my parents  last week. L... My wife and I went to Smallville for supper  with them. Yet, I was looking at a burned out farm - my  parents' farm. And it was quite obvious that the farm had  been burned down years ago."

"How is that possible?"

"That was my question. I went to talk to a neighbor - who  didn't recognize me and he should have. In any event, he  told me about the death of the Kents - probably the same  account that you found."

He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.  "It took me a while to put it together. In fact, it wasn't  until I had a dream that night. It was a dream about  something that happened to me about a year ago." He  hesitated. "Lois, I think I'm in an alternate universe."

"Clark, there's no such thing as alternate universes. I  don't know what happened to you, but..."

"There is such a thing as alternate universes. My wife has  been to one in the past. I've met an alternate version of  myself. And... And I've met an alternate version of my  wife."

"Come on, Clark. There must be another explanation. Have  you run this crazy idea past your wife? What does she say?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," he responded, keeping  his eyes on hers meaningfully.

She stared at him as his implication began to sink in. "Are  you saying... No. You aren't really trying to say... Clark,  that's crazy."

"Lois, you obviously looked through my wallet if you found  out my birthdate. How do you explain the pictures?"

Lois looked at him in disbelief. Pictures. She'd been  interrupted before she'd had a chance to look at the  pictures. He must have seen something on her face because  he immediately got up and made his way to his jacket. He  pulled out his wallet. And walked to the couch, sitting  down next to her.

He opened his wallet, reminding her of the strange money  she had found there earlier. Could his theory of alternate  universes possibly be true? No. That was crazy. There was  no such thing as alternate universes? On the other hand,  five minutes ago, there hadn't been any such thing as  aliens.

He handed her the picture section of his wallet. Taking a  deep breath to steady herself, she opened the picture  folder to see a picture of her and Clark looking into each  other's eyes. It was shocking to see herself in a wedding  dress. But what struck Lois the most was the looks of  absolute adoration she could see on both faces. It was  intoxicating seeing herself so obviously in... in love.

Her eyes darted to the face of the man sitting across from  her. Suddenly, so many of the confusing things of the past  few days made sense. The tender way he looked at her that  had the power to make her heart stand still. The way he had  recognized her voice when she had disturbed his sleep at  the Daily Planet.

Still, he was asking a lot of her. An alternate universe.  It was a lot to believe. But then so was the idea of aliens  living on earth. But he had made a pretty good case for  that.

"What if I told you that I know you have a small heart- shaped birthmark on your... umm..."

"I know where it is!" she snapped, cutting him off. "How  did you know about that?"

"I told you. I'm married to your alternate self. You life  experiences are bound to be different, so I can't exactly  tell you about the things you've done or thought or felt.  But I've spent hours getting to know every inch of her body  - do you want me to quote it line and verse?"

"No!" Lois hastily answered before falling silent. There  was no way he could know about her birthmark. She looked at  Clark for a long moment. He definitely looked relieved that  she wasn't wanting a more detailed description of her body.  Although, she knew instinctively that he would provide her  with one if that was what it took to get her to believe he  was telling the truth. "Let's say I believe you, what do  you want from me?"

He let out a breath. "I'm trying to find a way back to my  own universe."

She studied him for a long moment. "Then why have you been  investigating Perpetual Pines, illegal immigrants, Harlan  Black and... and Lex?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"What's Lex like in your universe?" she asked, suddenly  having an inkling of what was going on.

"The Lex Luthor of my universe was a violent sociopath."

"Was?"

"He died a couple of years ago. Look, I know this Luthor  isn't the same Lex Luthor who caused so much heartache in  my universe. But when I found out that you were engaged to  him... I just figured I owed it to my Lois to make sure her  counterpart in this universe was safe. So I did some  digging and..."

"Lex is involved with Harlan Black in this illegal  immigrant scheme, isn't he?" she asked rhetorically. He  nodded anyway. "And you've known that all along, haven't  you?" This time she waited for his nod. "Then why not just  tell me?" she asked. "Why make me think we were chasing  down a lead?"

"Come on, Lois. If I had told you that I was from an  alternate universe and, as a result, I knew that you were  engaged to a sociopath, how would you have reacted?"

She opened her mouth to suggest that she would have been  open-minded, but then closed it again. He was right. She'd  have dismissed him out of hand. "So instead you let me  discover the truth for myself," she replied thoughtfully.  "And you put your own quest to get home on hold to make  sure I knew the truth about Lex?"

He nodded.

"Okay, so what now?"

"I'm hoping you might know something about alternate  universes."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Clark. But this is the  first time I've ever heard anyone even suggest that they  were from an alternate universe - and that includes the  mental cases that call me in the middle of the night  wanting me to investigate invading aliens." She winced  slightly on the final words. "Sorry," she said to him.

"That's okay. Just tell me, do you know a man named Tempus?  Or H.G.Wells?"

"H.G. Wells," she responded.

"You know him?" he asked, jolting forward in his seat, the  expectation on his face obvious.

"Only that he wrote romance novels." When his expression  fell, she continued. "I'm sorry, Clark."

He gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "It's okay,  Lois."

"Hey," she said suddenly needing to make him feel better.  "We'll figure this out. I promise. We'll find a way for you  to get home."

"So you believe me?" he asked.

She let out a slow breath. "I guess if I can believe in  flying aliens," she began, reaching over and giving his arm  a squeeze to take any sting out of her words, "I can  believe in alternate universes."

The relieved look on Clark's face spoke volumes.

Lois gave him a final tap on the arm before getting up to  collect a pen and a pad of paper. "Okay, so let's start,"  she said once she was again seated.

"To?"

"I need to know everything if I'm going to help you get  home."

This time his smile was genuine as he began telling her  everything he could think of that might help. He went over  the events of June 17th in detail. She found the sudden  appearance of her engagement announcement particularly odd.  He went on to tell her about all of his various adventures  with Tempus and H.G.Wells. He told her everything his Lois  had told him about her first encounter with alternate Clark  - including Lois' newfound belief that alternate Clark had  found his Lois. He even went into detail about his dream  during his night in the hayloft.

It was a couple of hours later before he finally ran out of  steam. During that time, they had been interrupted twice.  First, Henderson had called to tell them that a deal had  been reached with Black and that they were on for tomorrow  morning. Then, Lex had called.

It had been difficult talking to Lex knowing what she knew  now. Still, the only chance they had to link Lex to the  slave labor scheme was if he didn't suspect that she knew  of his involvement. The hardest part had been when Lex  asked her if she had thought any more about increasing the  intimacy level of their relationship.

She had moved away from Clark, hoping he didn't suspect  what they were discussing. But given the rise of color in  his cheeks when she had taken the portable phone into her  bedroom, she suspected he had figured it out. It was  nauseating thinking how close she had come to giving  herself to Lex. It left her feeling cold.

After she spoke to Lex, the conversation between her and  Clark became more casual, as if he were trying to make up  for what Lex was. It was actually very sweet. It also made  it easier for her to raise a subject which had flittered  through her mind several times during the course of the  evening.

"Clark, you said something earlier that I'm curious about."

"What?"

"Well, you claimed to have come up with a way of using your  powers and yet still have a life."

He smiled. "Superman."

"Superman?" she asked, somewhat skeptical about the name.

"Hey, don't look at me!" he objected. "Your alternate is  the one who named me."

"Okay, fine. So what's a Super..." Her voice trailed off  when he rose to his feet and began to spin. Her mouth fell  open and she was positively speechless when Clark finally  slowed and in front of her stood... possibly the sexiest  man she had ever seen.

'He's married,' she told herself firmly. Although she  suddenly understood how her alternate self had fallen so  hard for this guy. The outfit left very little to the  imagination - and at the same time her imagination was  suddenly working overtime.

"Wow!" she finally said as she struggled to catch her  breath. The smug smile he gave her in return made it very  obvious that he was pleased with himself. "And that costume  actually keeps people from knowing who you are?" she asked.

"It fooled your alternate self for two years," he  responded.

She narrowed her eyes as she considered that. Okay, so  maybe it would work. Well, obviously it did work. Not that  it would have fooled her. But still... It would be hard  identifying Clark Kent after an encounter with Superman -  after all, she couldn't say that she was exactly paying  attention to his face.

"I guess people see what they expect to see," she finally  said.

He smiled before spinning again. And a moment later, Clark  was again standing in front of her.

"That could take some getting used to," she said. "So how  did people react to the appearance of Superman?"

"It was mixed. Of course, I did have the number one  reporter at the Daily Planet on side."

"Your Lois?"

"Yeah. Of course, she wasn't my Lois then. Although, I fell  for her like a ton of bricks the moment I laid eyes on her,  she fell for Superman. She didn't have much time for Clark  Kent."

She nodded slowly. She could understand how easy it would  be to get swept off her feet by Superman. And if she didn't  know that the two men were one in the same, she would  likely have tried to ignore her feelings for Clark if she  thought there was a chance with Superman. Although,  something told her that ignoring her feelings for Clark had  probably taken her alternate self the ultimate in  willpower.

"As far as Lois was concerned," Clark continued, "Clark  Kent was just a mild mannered reporter. Not quite as  impressive as Superman. But she came around eventually."

"What about the rest of the world? How did they respond to  the appearance of a flying do-gooder?"

"The bad guys weren't thrilled. On the other hand, most of  the regular people were very supportive. Of course there  was Trask."

"Who was this Trask?"

"Jason Trask. I think he was the one who killed this  universe's Clark Kent. In my universe, he worked for a  government agency known as Bureau 39. It was a branch of  the military dedicated to ensuring the world was safe from  aliens."

"And you think he was behind this Clark's death?" she  asked, feeling a sudden unexplainable tightness in her  chest as a sadness befell her at the thought of the death  of this universe's Clark Kent.

"Listen," said Clark, his tone suddenly much more serious,  "I'm sorry about Luthor."

She gave a short laugh, wondering how he had sensed her  sudden change of mood. "Don't be, Clark. I mean, I'm not  going to claim it doesn't hurt but... Well, I guess I'd  rather know now than after I married him. I don't suppose  your Lois was quite that stupid."

"Tempus once called her 'galactically stupid.'"

"That's the time traveler you told me about earlier."

"Right. I don't think I'd call any Lois Lane stupid. But  she was often blind when it came to matters of the heart.  She was fooled by Luthor, too."

"Really?" she asked, feeling somewhat better knowing that  she wasn't the only Lois Lane to be taken in by Lex's act.

"Yeah. She almost married him. Left him at the altar."

"Were you fooled?"

He shook his head. "But I had an advantage that neither of  you had."

"Which is?"

"Don't tell my Lois I said this, but I was jealous of her  interest in Luthor from their very first date. So I wasn't  as inclined to see him as a great guy. It made it easier to  see the truth."

"I don't get it. I mean, how could she even look at Lex if  she had you?" Suddenly, she realized what she had said.  "Umm... forget I said that, okay?"

He smiled. "Done." He cocked his head to the side for a  moment, obviously contemplating something. "Do you want to  talk about it?" he finally asked. "Luthor, I mean."

She immediately shook her head, but then after a moment of  silence, the whole story seemed to come pouring out - along  with the hurt and anger. He listened, offering words of  support when necessary, until she had finally purged  herself of the feeling of betrayal.

"Would you like to go flying?" he asked when she had  finally finished unburdening her heart. "I find that flying  always makes me feel better."

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "I'd love to go flying. But  might I make a suggesting first?"

"What?"

She shifted uncomfortably.

"What is it, Lois?" he asked again.

"Well, just think of this as coming from your Lois. 'Cause  if she were here, I suspect she'd be the first to tell you  - especially if she is anything like me."

"Would you quit apologizing and just tell me?"

"Well... You sort of stink. When was the last time you had  a shower?"

Clark immediately broke out laughing. "It has been a few  days. And without new clothes to change into, or a place to  have a shower..."

"Where have you been staying?"

"I spent one night in my parents' old hayloft. One night at  the Daily Planet. And the last night on the streets. It's  okay, though. I'm not bothered by the cold. And I'm not in  danger from muggers or anything. So..."

"That's horrible. Why didn't you say anything?" She  continued immediately, answering her own question. "What  were you going to say? Uhh... Hi. You don't know me but  could I stay at your place for the night. Well, I do know  you now so tonight you're staying here." When his eyebrows  rose, she rushed to continue. "The couch folds out into a  bed. And I think I can even handle your clothing problem. I  have some of my father's things. They won't be the best  fit, but they should work until you can wash your suit.

"Why don't you go take a shower while I see what I can dig  up for you to wear?"

"Are you sure you don't mind, Lois?"

"Hey, I know me. If I let my husband sleep on the street  when I had a perfectly good alternative, I'd kick my butt."

Clark laughed and nodded before turning towards the  washroom.

"Help yourself to whatever you find in there," she said. "I  think I have most of what you might need. Except perhaps  shaving foam. But you will find some razors in the..."

"I don't need a razor."

"Oh, of course not. You've obviously been shaving every  day. So you must have... You don't have any stuff with you.  How have you been shaving?"

"A little bonus to having superpowers," he said, heading  into the washroom.

Lois was tempted to call after him, insist that he tell her  how he shaved. But somehow that seemed a little personal.

* * * * * * * * *

Part 13

Lois lay in bed but her head was still in the clouds. That  flight had probably been the single most incredible  experience of her life. In one night, she had seen the  pyramids of China, the great wall of Egypt, the Grand  Canyon and Niagara Falls. He was right. It was hard to feel  sad when one was flying among the stars.

It was also hard to believe that she hadn't been cold or  killed by the g-forces. He explained that it had something  to do with his aura, although she couldn't say she exactly  understood. But she didn't have to understand to enjoy the  flight.

Of course, she couldn't say whether it was the flying she  had enjoyed or being in Clark's arms. She knew she  shouldn't be having these thoughts. After all, he was a  married man. Not only that, but he was quite obviously in  love with his wife. Everytime he mentioned her, there was a  softness on his face and in his voice that was undeniable.

She heard a small groan coming from the adjoining room,  reminding her how close he was. She swallowed hard.

Still, given his obvious love for his wife, it wasn't as if  there was any point in these foolish romantic notions she  seemed to be developing.

A small smile made its way onto her face as she thought  about the moment she had come out of the bedroom, carrying  bedding to make up the couch for him to sleep on. He had  been holding her framed Pulitzer certificate. He had looked  slightly sheepish about being caught before explaining how  good that name looked on a Pulitzer. It had struck her as  particularly sweet how completely this man supported his  wife's career - something she had always wondered about  Lex. Would he continue to support her career or would he  expect her to become a society wife after marriage? She had  often suspected the latter. At the time, she had believed  that all men probably felt that way - until tonight. Until  Clark. She had simply written it off as one of the battles  she would need to fight when she finally got married - or  decide never to marry.

Then Clark's expression had turned slightly wistful as he  had wondered aloud whether his relationship with his Lois  had slowed her down. She had instinctively known how his  Lois would respond to that - that she would rather have him  than a Pulitzer. At least, if that wasn't the woman's  reaction, she was a fool.

Lois heard Clark groan again. He sounded almost in pain.  Should she go into the other room to wake him? He was  obviously dreaming. And given the dream he'd had on his  first night in this universe... It sounded as if he was  having a repeat of that dream.

"Lois," she heard him groan.

She was immediately out of bed when she heard his strangled  attempt to call her name. Stepping around the corner into  the living room, she attempted to locate him. Her eyebrows  furrowed in confusion when he wasn't lying on the pull-out  bed. She gasped when she realized the problem. He was  floating on his stomach about three feet above the bed.

Hesitantly, she made her way over to him. He had told her  that he often floated when he was dreaming, but seeing it  for herself was breathtaking. She couldn't resist putting a  knee on the bed and reaching out to run a hand over top of  him, looking for wires.

"Oh, god, Lois," he groaned again, causing her to jump  back.

She hesitated, now certain that he was dreaming, but no  longer entirely sure that it was a nightmare.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark ran his lips down the side of his wife's throat,  hearing her heart rate speed up.

"Clark." The word was barely more than a breath on her lips  as she tilted her head back, allowing him greater access to  her neck.

He continued teasing her neck with his mouth while his hand  ran down her side, searching for the hem of her nightgown.  His fingers finally found his goal and slipped underneath,  slowly beginning the return trip with his hand against her  smooth skin. He felt her push herself off the bed to allow  the material to slide easily up. He groaned at the sound of  the wispy material of her nightgown brushing against her  skin.

Floating slightly, he allowed his free hand to join the  other in removing the material which was keeping him from  free exploration of her body.

"Lois," he breathed, moving to attack her mouth once again.  His hands continued raising her nightgown, until it was  bunched up under her arms. She raised her arms allowing him  to slip the material over her head.

"Oh, god, Lois," he groaned before leaning forward to  invade her mouth with his tongue. He suddenly rolled them  over, pulling her on top of him.

She broke contact with his mouth, sitting up so that she  was straddling him. He looked up at her, the moonlight  caressing her in a tantalizing pattern of light and dark.  He reached up, running both hands slowly down her body. She  threw her head back and moaned and he was lost.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois reached over cautiously. She jerked back when he  suddenly rolled over onto his back, not losing any altitude  in the process, but placing his body closer to hers.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out again. "Clark," she  said, gently shaking his shoulder.

She jumped back again when he suddenly fell from his  position, testing fully the bounce of the pull-out bed.

"You were dreaming," she said, when his now open eyes met  hers. "I wasn't sure whether I should wake you or..."

Her voice was cut off when he reached out, slipping his arm  around her and, with mixture of practiced ease and  superpowers, flipped her over him onto the bed, taking her  completely by surprise when he was suddenly kneeling over  her.

"It's okay. I was just dreaming about you," he whispered  huskily, his lips descending on hers.

She gasped when she suddenly found herself on the receiving  end of the most passionate kiss she had ever experienced.  Almost instantly, what was happening sunk in. She had to  stop this. He though he was kissing his...

Suddenly, he pulled back in shock, scrambling back onto the  far corner of the bed. "Oh, god," he gasped. "I'm so sorry.  I thought you were..."

"...your wife," Lois concluded, tears beginning to moisten  her eyes. She fought them back, determined not to let him  know the emotions which were suddenly coursing through her  body, the need his kiss had awaken in her.

Suddenly, an uncomfortable silence seemed to descend as  both searched for something to say. Lois seemed to find her  voice first.

"So? How about them Mets?" she asked.

He looked at her in disbelief before a smile suddenly  softened his expression. She immediately looked away,  wondering if he knew exactly how devastating that smile  was. It should be registered as a lethal weapon.

"Umm... Listen," she began, quickly getting off the bed,  "it's obvious that you're okay so maybe I better just..."  She gestured frantically towards the bedroom.

"Okay," he said softly.

She chanced a quick look at his face again, feeling a  slight flutter in her heart the moment their eyes met.

"Night," she said, breaking eye contact and dashing as fast  as she could back to her room - praying desperately that he  didn't notice how quickly she was moving.

Crawling into bed, she buried her head under the pillow.  What the hell was wrong with her? He was a married man - a  married man who was very much in love with his wife. Heck,  he even had erotic dreams about her. His reaction in the  situation was understandable. She had obviously interrupted  his dream about his wife and in his dazed state, he had  mistaken her for the woman he loved. Perfectly  understandable.

What she didn't understand was herself. How could she have  felt so much when he had kissed her? He was married. Okay,  so maybe it had all happened so quickly that she hadn't had  time to react before he had realized his mistake. But  still... How would she ever be able to look him in the eye  again? If only she could honestly say that she hadn't felt  anything when he had kissed her, maybe it would be  different. But never had she felt such a powerful pull  towards another human being.

Part of her wished that he had never kissed her. The  feelings he had managed to awaken in her with just a  kiss... She closed her eyes tightly trying to fight off the  gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was  never going to be able to forget that kiss. In a matter of  seconds, he had managed to turn her world upside down, show  her what could have been. Not that it could be, of course.  He was married.

Yet there was another part of her that wouldn't trade those  few seconds for anything. Still, that certainly didn't mean  she was falling in love with him. She wasn't. She couldn't  be. A tear escaped her eye and slipped slowly down her  cheek. God help her, but she was.

* * * * * * * * *

Clark buried his face in his hands. What had he done? The  Lois of this universe had been far more generous, far more  trusting of him than he had had any right to expect. She  had listened and even believed him when he had told her  about alternate universes and flying aliens. She had opened  her home and offered him a place to sleep that was ten  times more comfortable than the hay loft. And how had he  repaid her? By attacking her, that's how.

It was a miracle that she hadn't thrown him out just now.

And his Lois? How would his Lois react to what he had done?  He gave a small snort. Either she would skin him alive or  she would laugh herself silly. One of the two. The problem  was he had absolutely no idea which one. Either way, he had  a lot of explaining to do when he got back home.

Home. What he wouldn't give to be home right now. Even if  Lois chose to skin him alive, it would be better than being  stuck so far away from her, not sure if he would ever find  a way home.

No. No. He couldn't think about his Lois right now. It was  thinking about Lois that had led to his dream. And it was  his dream that had led to... No. He wouldn't think about  that either.

It was just so confusing. When he had woken up from his  dream, the only thing he had been able to see was her. And  she looked like his wife. It wasn't until he had kissed her  that he had known the truth. She wasn't his wife.

"What a mess," he whispered, mentally kicking himself again  for not putting things together sooner.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' first conscious thought was that the apartment  smelled good. In fact, it smelled delicious. She opened her  eyes in confusion as the smell of coffee mixed with the  smell of bacon saturating the air caused an answering  rumble from her stomach. What on earth?

Clark! The answer hit her all at once. But why was Clark  making breakfast?

Pushing aside the covers, she crawled out of bed and,  wrapping a robe around her, made her way into the kitchen.  She ran a hand sleepily through her hair as she attempted  to straighten it into some sort of order.

"Morning," said Clark without turning around, his attention  focused on the frying pan which was cheerfully sputtering  away.

"Morning," she responded, walking closer. "What's all  this?"

He turned towards her, giving her a soft smile that sent an  involuntary flutter through her heart.

"This is my way of apologizing," he explained.

"Apologizing?" she asked nervously.

"For my behavior last night. And to thank you for not  throwing me out."

"Umm... forget about it," she stuttered, really not wanting  to open that can of worms.

He removed the frying pan from the element and turned off  the heat as he began to load items onto two plates. She  made her way closer to discover that not only had he made  bacon, but there were also eggs and blueberry pancakes -  although where he had found blueberries was beyond her.

She carried the plates to the table as he poured coffee.

"I noticed last night that you take your coffee black," he  said, setting hers down beside her plate. He then proceeded  to pour himself a cup of coffee, adding to it some of the  low fat mile he had found in her fridge.

"I suppose you usually take cream," she said, taking a seat  at the table.

"Yeah. Lois is always complaining about my metabolism. Says  it isn't fair that I can eat whatever I want without  gaining weight. I don't even need to work out." He returned  the coffee pot and sat down at the table with her.

"She's right. It isn't fair," Lois said, giving him look of  annoyance, then tempering it with a grin. "I don't usually  eat much for breakfast, but this smells too good to  resist," she continued. "I just might have to keep you  around."

There was a sudden silence in the air as Lois realized what  she had just said.

"Clark..."

"Lois..."

They had both spoken at the same time. They both gave  nervous chuckles before Lois tried again.

"Me first, Clark. I know you love your wife. I will do  everything in my power to help you get back to her. You do  know that, don't you?"

He seemed to relax. "Thank you, Lois."

"Now, let me eat. I've got to get moving if I'm going to be  ready to meet Henderson for the sting operation this  morning. Not all of us have the benefit of superspeed."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * * * * * * * *

Part 14

Clark looked over at Lois with concern. They were in the  darkened police van waiting for Luthor to arrive for his  meeting with Black. He wondered why Luthor had chosen this  deserted parking lot for the meeting. He supposed Henderson  was right when he suggested that Luthor didn't want to  chance being seen with Black. Black had told them that he  expected Luthor had set up this meeting to make sure he  understood that it was in his best interests to keep quiet.

Clark was impressed with how seriously Henderson was taking  this stake out. There were sharp shooters on the roofs of a  couple of nearby buildings. There were other officers in  strategic locations, dressed to blend into the background.  One man was even quite effectively disguised as a drunk.

Black had gotten out of his car and was pacing nervously in  front of it as everyone waited for Luthor to arrive. There  was a deadly silence - the calm before the storm as  anticipation levels ran high.

"He's coming," a voice crackled over the radio.

"Everyone stay sharp," Henderson ordered back.

Clark lowered his glasses and looked through the wall of  the van, wanting to see the action first hand instead of  watching the television screen to which Henderson and Lois  were restricted.

He watched as a long black limousine pulled up beside the  white Mercedes Harlan Black was driving. Clark heard a  sharp intake of breath from Lois when the door to the  limousine opened. He responded by reaching over to take her  hand. She grasped his hand, almost as if using it to anchor  herself as she kept her eyes glued to the television  screen.

"It's really happening, isn't it," she said more than  asked, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"Yes," Clark replied. He knew that she had come to terms  with the fact that Luthor was a criminal of the worst kind  last night. But seeing it for herself was obviously tearing  her apart. If he had just kept his distance... she would  have married a homicidal sociopath. And as she had said, it  was better to know now than after the 'I dos' were all said  and done.

He turned his attention back to the action, glancing over  the rim of his glasses once again. Luthor was emerging from  inside the vehicle.

"You wanted to see me, Lex?" Harlan Black began.

Luthor glanced around cautiously. Seemingly satisfied, he  responded. "Yes, Harlan. I understand that you are in a  little trouble and thought it might be wise for us to clear  up a couple of things."

"I don't see what there is to clear up," Black responded.  "You need to use your connections to get me out of this.  Otherwise, I'm going to tell the cops all about your part  in the illegal immigrant scheme."

"My part?" Luthor asked.

"Come on, Luthor. You know exactly what I'm talking about.  I used my ships to bring in the illegal immigrants. I sold  them to you for use in your factories."

"Now that's the type of talk that could get you into  trouble, Harlan. No, I think it would be best if you just  kept all these fantasies to yourself. No one is going to  believe you anyway."

"No? What about your girlfriend? I bet she'd be very  interested in what I have to say?"

Clark heard Lois gasp and immediately tightened his hold on  her hand.

"You leave Lois out of this," Luthor snarled.

"I'd love to. But she seems to have placed herself right in  the middle of this by snooping into my business. If you'd  have controlled her the way you always claim you do..."

Lois' grasp on Clark's hand tightened in response to  Black's words.

"...then none of this would be a problem. That makes this  your mess. You clean it up. Besides, if I start talking, I  suspect she will be more than happy to..."

His voice was cut off by Luthor grabbing him by the collar  and pulling him close enough that Black could undoubtedly  smell his opponent's breath.

"Everyone hold your positions," Henderson immediately  commanded over the radio.

"You'll say nothing to Lois. You'll keep your mouth shut,"  Luthor hissed. "You'll do your time. You breath as much as  one word to her about my involvement in all of this and  I'll..."

"You'll what, Lex? Kill my family? Been there. Done that.  So what are you going to do to me? I'm old enough that if I  go down for this I'm looking at life in prison. What can  you do worse than that?"

"Trust me. My reach extends well into the Metropolis prison  system. You won't live long enough to testify against me."

With the final words, Luthor pushed Black backwards. He  stumbled slightly, falling against his car.

"What the hell?" Luthor said, staring at Black's chest  where his shirt had come partially open, revealing the wire  he was wearing.

"He's on to us," Henderson barked into the radio. "Everyone  go."

Clark could see the sudden movement of police officers. It  seemed that Luthor did also. He grabbed Black who was still  struggling to regain his footing, and pulled the shocked  man in front of him. Before anyone could stop him, Luthor  had pulled a gun, the barrel of which was pressed firmly  into Black's temple.

"Anyone move and he's dead," Luthor barked.

"Do as he says," Henderson barked into the radio. "Everyone  stand by. I'm coming out. Sharpshooters, if you get a  chance take it."

Then Henderson set down the radio and turned to Lois. "You  stay here," he said, but Lois didn't seem to hear. Her  attention was riveted to the screen. Satisfied that she was  adequately distracted, he pulled open the door and crawled  out of the van.

"I just want to talk, Luthor," Henderson said, keeping his  hands visible so that Luthor would know that he wasn't  armed.

Clark watched from inside the van. There had to be  something he could do. But even if he were willing to give  up his secret, by the time he covered the open space  between the van and Luthor, the man could very well have  pulled the trigger. Clark could already see that the hammer  was slowly going back. If only there were some way to get  Luthor to drop the gun.

A slow smile made its way onto Clark's face. He would have  to leave two small holes in the side of the van if he were  to do it from his current position, but if he heated the  gun enough to make Luthor let go, it would give the police  officers a chance to do their jobs.

"Stay where you are, Henderson!" Luthor barked.

"Okay, okay," Henderson said, his slow steps forward coming  to a halt. "Now think about this, Luthor. You're  surrounded. There's no way out. So let go of Black and  we'll talk this through."

Clark concentrated his heat vision on Luthor's gun. He saw  the man flinch slightly, his finger moving off the trigger.  And then, Luthor dropped the gun.

Bang.

"No!" yelled Clark.

"No!" screamed Lois.

But the yelled words did nothing to reverse time. The  bullet from the gun of the sharpshooter was already  embedded in Luthor's skull by the time either Lois or Clark  had even heard the sound of the gunshot. Luthor seemed to  look directly towards the camera in disbelief and confusion  one last time before collapsing to the ground. Dead.

* * * * * * * * *

Templeton smiled as he watched the television screen. The  commentator's voice was informing the public of the death  of Lex Luthor while the cameras were capturing what they  could see from their position in the helicopters currently  circling above.

As a result, Templeton could see Clark Kent, his arm  protectively around Lois Lane, as he led her to a jeep.  They seemed to stop for a moment to talk to Inspector  Henderson before continuing towards their previous  destination. Templeton watched until the jeep drove away,  disappearing from view.

"And they say there's nothing good on television these  days," Templeton said, leaning back in his chair, a very  satisfied smile appearing on his face.

* * * * * * * * *

In spite of everything that had happened in the past  twenty-four hours, Lois felt utterly content as she and  Clark stepped into the Daily Planet lobby the next morning.

Last night had been unbelievably hard. Clark had held her  most of the night while she'd cried on his shoulder. She  had loved Lex after all. Maybe it wasn't with the same  reckless intensity that she seemed to be falling for Clark,  but she had loved Lex all the same. Not only that, she felt  like an utter fool for having loved him. Besides, no one  deserved to die. And she had felt so responsible for all of  it.

Clark had been so understanding, so supportive. It was hard  to imagine what she would have done without him. When she  had been ready, he had even helped her write up the story.

But that wasn't what had her feeling good this morning. She  had managed to convince Clark that he should apply for a  job at the Daily Planet - until they could find a way to  get him back to his wife, of course. At least this way, he  would have something to occupy his time. And it wasn't as  if he couldn't use the money.

Lois was fairly certain she could convince Catherine to  give Clark a chance even though he didn't exactly have a  resume. After all, it wasn't as if he could put 'reporter  for the Daily Planet' under previous employment history. On  the other hand, she had added Clark's name to the by-line  of the story about Lex's death - which was bound to make an  impression on Catherine. And this morning, Lois intended to  play up Clark's part in the investigation to the hilt.

Lois knew that in some ways she was deluding herself. It  was just that the idea of working with Clark, being with  him every day was absolutely irresistible. He was  irresistible. And he was here. With her. Okay, so maybe not  exactly with her, but... She knew it was wrong to be  thinking this way, but she couldn't seem to help it.

The crazy thing was that she knew with absolute certainty  that nothing would ever happen between them. There was no  way he would ever cheat on his wife. It just wasn't in him  to do so. It was one of the things she loved about him. The  single kiss they had shared when he had mistaken her for  his wife was the only kiss they would ever share. Still, if  friendship with him was all she could ever have, then  friendship would be enough. At least she would be able to  talk to him, work with him, see the gentleness in his eyes  when he looked at her - for however long it lasted.

"H.G. Wells," Clark suddenly gasped in disbelief.

The smile disappeared instantly from Lois' face and she  stood, frozen to the spot, mindful of the significance of  the name. She watched in silence as Clark approached a man  wearing old-fashioned clothes and a bowler hat. With a  sudden feeling of dread, she realized that the pain she had  gone through last night with Lex's death was nothing  compared to the agony she was going to experience tonight.

"So I found you at last, my boy," Wells said, gracing Clark  with a warm smile. "I knew that something had happened."

"Great!" exclaimed Clark. "So does that mean I can go home  now?"

"This instant, if you like."

"I like," Clark responded. "I definitely like."

Clark suddenly seemed to remember something. He stopped and  looked back at Lois. Her complexion was pale and there were  tears beginning to congregate in the corners of her eyes.

"Could you just give me a moment?" Clark asked Wells.

"Certainly," Wells responded, stepping away from the woman  while Clark stepped closer.

Clark reached down and gently took both of Lois' hands in  his as the first of her tears began to roll down her  cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "But I have to go."

She nodded, not entirely sure she could trust her voice.

"I love her," Clark continued.

"I know," Lois answered, her voice cracking slightly on the  words.

Clark was silent for a moment before continuing. "Look,  Lois, I never should have sought your help. I just never  expected... this to happen. It wasn't fair of me. My Lois  took almost two years to fall for me. So I thought it would  be safe to..."

Her hand slipped out of his so that she could place her  fingers against his lips. "I wouldn't have missed meeting  you for the world, Clark," she whispered. "And maybe the  only reason it took your Lois two years was because it took  you that long to truly open up to her."

Clark considered that for a moment before nodding. She  might very well be right.

"Well, my boy," said a voice behind Clark, "we really  should get going. It's not right to leave your Lois for so  long - you know, in her condition."

"Condition?" asked Clark. Looking away from Lois, he  directed his attention to H.G. Wells. "Is something wrong  with Lois?" he demanded of the smaller man.

"No. No. Of course not. I just meant given the fact that  she is... expecting."

"Expecting?" Clark asked. "You mean Lois is pregnant?"

"Oh my, did I give something away?" asked Wells.

Suddenly, Clark grabbed the man's face between his hands  and planted a kiss directly on H.G.'s lips. When Clark  finally released him, the man stumbled back in shock. Clark  then turned to Lois, pulling her into his arms and swinging  her around. She gave a watery laugh as he set her down  again. He looked fully into her eyes. His smile had faded  but his eyes continued to dance.

"She's pregnant," he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back as the tears started anew.

He leaned towards her and gave her a lingering kiss on the  cheek. She reached up and gently stroked his cheek as he  pulled away.

"We really should be going," Wells said again.

Clark nodded, his eyes not leaving Lois. "I'm sorry," he  whispered as he began backing away.

She simply nodded at him and attempted what turned out to  be a wobbly smile. She continued to watch, then sucked in a  strangled breath as he turned slowly towards the door and  disappeared outside.

* * * * * * * * *

Herbert George Wells was silent as he led Clark towards his  time machine. He wasn't entirely sure where that note had  come from which informed him that Clark had disappeared  into another universe - and had even given him the  appropriate coordinates of this universe. He could only  assume that it had been from some good Samaritan. He  briefly considered mentioning it to Clark. But Clark seemed  to be lost in his own little heaven. Wells kicked himself  for opening his mouth and ruining the surprise for Lois and  Clark. Best just to get Clark home and then Wells was going  to return to his own time frame once and for all - before  he could do any more damage.

* * * * * * * * *

Templeton watched in satisfaction from across the street as  H.G. Wells and Clark Kent emerged from the Daily Planet. He  followed, keeping his distance, as they made their way into  a nearby alley. He finally smiled when a light and sound  coming from the alley told him that they were on their way.  Everything had gone according to plan. Even H.G. Wells had  shown up at the right time.

"Help, Superman," Tempus yelled at the top of his lungs.  Then he looked around in anticipation for what he knew  wouldn't happen. No one showed up in answer to his call,  although there were a few odd looks from passing strangers.

He smiled. It was certainly good living in a Superman free  zone again.

Templeton checked his watch. The fun and games were over.  It was time to get back to work. He had a universe to run  and a building to demolish, after all.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois' heart caught in her throat when she heard the distant  cry. 'Help, Superman.' Without thinking, she rushed towards  the door of the Daily Planet, her steps only faltering when  she got outside. She looked around and her heart plunged  into her stomach.

She shook her head slightly. She must be losing her mind -  after all, who would be calling for Superman? There was no  Superman. Not in this universe, at least.

She was about to walk back inside when she noticed a man  crawling into a long, black limousine on the other side of  the street. What was J.D. Templeton doing in front of the  Daily Planet? Could he have been the one yelling for  Superman?

Shaking her head again, she turned and walked back into the  Daily Planet. It was bound to be a long day, what with the  fallout over Lex's death. The sooner she got lost in her  job, the sooner she could put Clark Kent out of her mind.  Maybe then she would stop hearing people calling for  Superman. Besides, she still needed to find out what those  refugees were fleeing from in China.

EPILOGUE

Lois traced a light circle on her husband's chest as he  slept peacefully beside her. Her heart felt so full. She  supposed she should feel bad that she had been denied the  opportunity of telling him that she was going to have his  child, but the obvious pleasure he had experienced when he  told her, not to mention the romantic dinner he had  prepared, dancing in the privacy of their own living room,  the soft look on his face - it had been... wonderful.

She was pregnant. Wow! Before she met Clark, she could  never have imagined herself being happy with that news. But  the idea of having his child... She sighed before leaning  over to kiss his chest.

He made an indeterminable, although obviously happy, noise  in the back of his throat and pulled her closer.

It hadn't come as a surprise when he had told her about his  adventure today. She had somehow had a feeling that  something had happened - probably much like the feeling he  had experienced when she had spent a few days in the  universe of alternate Clark. It was still hard to reconcile  the idea that he had spent several days in an alternate  universe when he had only been gone from this universe for  an hour at most. But that seemed the norm for alternate  universe travel.

She almost chuckled. The norm. Since when had she come to  think so nonchalantly about alternate universes?

Her smile faded as she thought about alternate Lois. Clark  had looked so guilty when he had told her about waking up  and mistaking alternate Lois for her. It had been a little  hard to hear, until she recalled how close she had come to  kissing alternate Clark - not once, but twice. Or how she  had kissed Woody Samms when he had possessed Clark's body.  It had been that kiss that had told her, not exactly that  Clark wasn't Clark, but that something was wrong. It seemed  that Clark knew her kiss as well as she knew his.

She suspected that Clark at least understood now the  connection she felt with his alternate self. And if there  was one thing she knew about her husband it was that he  would never betray her. It was one of the things she loved  about him.

Of course, she could imagine how her alternate self must  have felt to be on the receiving end of Clark's kiss. It  was sad to think that the woman would never know the  ecstacy of being loved by a Clark. She supposed she should  be jealous of the woman's Pulitzer. But it wasn't worth it  if it meant giving up Clark. Unable to resist, she leaned  over and kissed his chest one more time.

He muttered something again. She raised her head and looked  at him when his words finally penetrated her mind.

'It's good to be home.'

She smiled.

* * * * * * * * * The end... or perhaps, the beginning ;) * * * * * * * * *

Table of Contents

Without A Superman (Clark Kent's Quest)

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

EPILOGUE