Twins: 7/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
When he was finished, he rinsed the towel and hung it up to dry. It looked like he'd done everything he could, and Lois was sound asleep on the sofa. Quietly, he approached his sleeping partner and gently shook her shoulder. "Lois?" he said softly.
She opened her eyes and pushed herself to a sitting position. "Done already?'
"Mostly," he said. "I think the rest of it can wait until tomorrow. Come on; I'll give you a hand to your room. No funny business; I promise."
"Oh Clark," she said, "you don't have to tell me that."
He gave her a boost to her feet and steadied her as she half-hopped across the room to her bedroom. When he lowered her to a seat on the foot of the bed, she gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Clark. You're a life-saver."
"Not a problem," he assured her. "But the next time you decide to turn your mattress in the middle of the night, give me some warning, okay?"
She nodded. "I shouldn't have called you," she said, "but ..."
"I hope that you'll call me the next time before it gets to something like this," he said. "Even if it's at two AM. Do you think you can sleep now?"
She gave a small nod, smothering a yawn." "I think so."
"Good. Then I'll see you in the morning."
She nodded again. "Good night, Clark."
**********
And now, Part 7:
Not surprisingly, Lois overslept. She awakened at the sound of a light rap at her door and sat up, confused for a moment that the apartment was filled with sunlight.
The knock came again and realization flooded over her. Her alarm clock was broken and she was late! She sprang out of bed just as someone knocked a third time, and winced as the reason for her call to Clark last night came back in a rush.
"Who is it?" she shouted.
"Clark," her partner's voice said.
"Just a minute!" Lois grabbed for her robe where it lay neatly over the back of a chair. In the light of day, and moderately awake, the extent of the repair that Clark had done to her bedroom was more obvious. Her partner had turned in an outstanding job last night, considering the hour and the equipment available.
Yanking the belt tight, she fumbled with the array of locks, not stopping to wonder how so many had been fastened, since the last thing she recalled was crawling under the covers, leaving Clark to let himself out.
Her partner was leaning against the doorframe, whistling softly and holding a large paper bag in one arm. She could smell a delicious aroma emanating from it.
He straightened up as she pulled the door wider. "Hi. Feeling better this morning?"
A glance at the wall clock told her that she was so hopelessly late to work that a few minutes more wouldn't matter. "Not bad. My foot's a little sore but it feels better than I expected."
"Good. Don't worry about being late. I called Perry and told him we had some things to do out of the office this morning."
"Do we? Or are we just playing hooky?"
He made a face. "I'm never going to hear that phrase again without thinking of Hamm. Can I come in?"
Lois stepped hastily back. "Sure. What's in the bag?"
"Breakfast." He set the bag down on her coffee table. "I visited my favorite French restaurant this morning. I figured that after last night you could use a little pick-me-up. French mushroom and cheese omelettes and breakfast crepes with fruit toppings and all the trimmings. I also brought a thermos of my home-brewed coffee."
"It smells wonderful," Lois said. "Give me ten minutes to change, okay?"
"Sure. If you like I'll set the table while I'm waiting."
"That would be nice," she said. "Be right back.
She limped back into the bedroom, snatched up clothing and made a beeline for the shower. This would have to be fast, but she didn't want to head for work without showering.
It was actually closer to fifteen minutes later when she emerged from the bedroom dressed for work. Clark was waiting patiently, as she had expected, watching the morning news report. He looked around, smiled and switched off the TV. "Ready for breakfast?"
She nodded. "I'm starved. I guess wrestling with mattresses at midnight helped me work up an appetite."
Clark grinned, making room for her on the sofa. "Just for my own curiosity, why did you decide to turn the mattress at that time of night ... or shouldn't I ask?"
She could feel her cheeks burning. "The mattress was lumpy and I couldn't sleep. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Did you get some sleep afterwards?" he asked, looking a little concerned. "You seemed sleepy enough when I left."
"Yeah. I don't think I moved all night. It was awfully nice of you to come over and help, though. I know I woke you up."
He shrugged. "That's all right. I'm glad you called me. Now, how about something to eat?"
Lois had been enjoying the scents wafting up from the Styrofoam boxes containing her breakfast. Clark unscrewed the lid of the thermos that held his excellent coffee and poured her a cup while she opened his offering. A light fluffy omelet garnished with a creamy sauce, and a breakfast crepe met her gaze. The aroma of the meal was making her mouth water. She picked up her fork hastily and took a quick bite and Clark grinned.
"Dig in," he said. "Sugar substitute and skim milk for the coffee, right?"
She nodded, her mouth too full to speak. He opened his own breakfast while she savored the first bite and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding four packets of sugar and two of the little cups of half and half.
The food seemed to almost vanish of its own accord. She took the last bite and scooped up the crumbs in the box before she said another word. "Clark, that was delicious! How come you always know all these terrific places to eat that I can never find?"
"I like to try little out of the way places," he said. "I find some really good ones sometimes." He grinned. "Some real stinkers, too."
"Well, you can bring me food from this one any time," Lois said.
"I might just do that," Clark said. "Are you ready to head for the office?"
She got to her feet. "You bet. After that kind of breakfast, I'm ready to take on the imposter. Have you seen Superman since last night?"
"As a matter of fact, I saw him this morning. He told me about meeting the imposter last night. I guess he's not a hoax after all."
"No, but that doesn't mean someone isn't behind his appearance. By someone else, I mean Lex, of course. At least probably." Lois reached to gather up the debris of their meal but Clark was ahead of her. He efficiently stacked the Styrofoam trays together and stuffed them into the paper bag.
"There," he said. "I'll just get rid of this in your trash and we can go. I guess you don't want to walk with a cut foot."
"No," she agreed, "but it only hurts a little. I'm sure it'll be fine by tomorrow."
"Probably." He disposed of the trash and was back to hold her coat for her and to open the door. "What have you got in mind next?"
"Well, if we can't talk to the imposter, we'll have to approach it differently. As a starting point, suppose this guy is an actor with some pretty extreme physical enhancements."
"I don't know if that works," Clark said. "How can we explain the flying?"
"I don't ... yet. Like I said, we'll worry about 'how' some of this was done later. I said to Superman last night that when something apparently impossible happens now, Lex is my prime suspect. Maybe Jimmy will have some ideas how to check and see if he's made any unscheduled payments to doctors or scientists lately. Maybe both. If Lex is involved, he might have to expend some of his private funds rather than funds from his company ... or companies. So we'll see if he's made any unusually large personal banking transactions lately, maybe any big cash withdrawals ..."
"Well," Clark said, "I suppose it's a starting point. On the other hand, with Luthor, a few million might rank in the category of petty cash."
"I'll figure out something. You'll see."
"I'm not arguing," Clark said. "I believe you."
**********
When they arrived at the Planet, Perry was in full rant mode. Clark kept his face straight at his editor's inventive chewing out of the sports editor. He did, however, open his eyes slightly at the sight of the Armani suit and accompanying tie. He'd just about managed to get used to the hairpiece, but obviously something was up. He hurried to his desk, trying not to draw Perry's attention, and was simply glad that their boss seemed to have other things on his mind than the tardiness of his star investigative team.
Little did he know. He had barely taken his seat and begun to boot up his computer for the day's work when Perry, who had vanished into his inner sanctum instants before, burst into the newsroom once more, this time clutching a sheet of fax paper in one hand. "Lois! Clark! Robbery and hostage situation at the Metropolis Merchants' Bank! Shake a leg!"
Lois grabbed the fax. "Let's go, Clark ..." She glanced at her boss's attire and did a classic double take. "New suit?"
Perry cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, yes."
"Special occasion?" Lois asked.
"Not really, no."
"Huh." Lois cast another quick glance over the suit. "You okay?"
"Lois," Perry said.
"Yes?"
"The bank."
"Oh. Right. Come on, Clark." She headed for the stairs, limping slightly.
As they descended the elevator, neither said anything, although Clark suspected that they were both thinking the same thing. Fortunately, Lois had found a parking place near the elevator in the Planet's garage, and minutes later they were pulling out of the parking structure, barely avoiding Ralph Stevenson's bright red sports car as it rounded the turn into the entrance to the lot on two wheels.
"Idiot!" Lois said warmly. "That's the second time he's nearly hit somebody in the four days since he got that thing. If he's going to drive like he's in the Indy 500 it's not going to last long and neither is he."
"The problem is that he doesn't," Clark said.
"Huh?"
"Drive like he's in the Indy 500," Clark clarified. "He's not that good."
"I'll say!" Lois fell silent and applied her attention to driving.
The Metropolis Merchants' Bank was only a few blocks away and Lois pulled the Cherokee to a stop at the curb half a block from the crowd that clustered around the establishment, cutting the engine as she pulled the parking brake. Clark opened his door and got out, and wasn't surprised that his partner was already hurrying toward the scene before he finished shutting his door. Lois wasn't likely to let a little detail like a cut foot get in the way of a story.
Several police were still keeping a group of spectators back, but it was apparent that the actual crisis was over. Lois hurried up to the nearest police officer, who was writing on a notepad. Clark trailed behind, discreetly lowering his glasses to assess the situation inside. People were milling around, and several police appeared to be speaking to various individuals, but no one seemed to be hurt.
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet," Lois said. "What happened?"
The cop glanced briefly at her. "Tense standoff until Superman got here. He flew in the top floor window, apprehended the perp and freed the hostages." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the paddy wagon.
Clark schooled his expression to neutrality as he followed the other man's gesture. If 'Superman' was here, he wanted to observe his double without the other man being aware of the fact that he was under observation.
Lois turned quickly and approached the colorful figure that was standing beside several police as they loaded their captive into the paddy wagon. "Superman!"
Her attempt to speak to the apparent Superman was interrupted as the captive jerked free of his captors and made a bolt for freedom. Faster than the eye could follow, the double moved to intercept the fleeing man, lifted him and tossed him casually through the rear doors of the vehicle, twenty feet away. There was a ripple of applause from the spectators but Lois stood as if stunned into immobility and Clark winced at the dull sound of a human body impacting the metal floor inside the official van. A young officer closed and locked the door and hurried around to the cab without a pause. The vehicle moved away.
Clark moved quietly to a spot where he could have an unimpeded view of the proceedings and stood silently observing his double. In the light of day, his resemblance to Clark's other identity was even more astounding. Unobtrusively, Clark lowered his glasses and x-rayed the imposter.
No metal, no artificial enhancements. To all appearances, the other Superman was an organic man, made of flesh and bone and muscle. He could see the double's heart beating, and hear it as well. This was undoubtedly a living being who, as Clark had seen seconds ago, possessed Clark's powers. A close examination of the imposter's face revealed no scars, no signs of any sort of plastic surgery, masks or makeup. Whoever he was, his appearance was natural.
Lois seemed to shake off her paralysis and hurried toward the double. Clark stood still, telling himself that she was in no danger. The imposter hadn't done any harm to anyone, at least so far, but he readied himself to move quickly in case the situation changed without warning.
"Superman?" Lois said.
The other Superman turned toward her, his thick brows raised as he saw her, but there was no sign of recognition in his face. "Yes?"
Lois stopped, glanced once at Clark and back to the double. Clark heard her heartbeat speed up. "It's me ... Lois."
The imposter looked her up and down with obvious appreciation, and a knowing smirk twisted his lips. Then he was gone, leaving a clap of sound in his wake. Lois stared after him for a long minute and then turned to look at Clark again.
"Let's get back to the newsroom," she said.
Clark followed her in silence toward the Cherokee.
**********
Lois led the way back to the Jeep, her mind spinning in circles. The Superman to whom she had spoken hadn't recognized her; that much had been obvious. She had met the imposter and she could see what Superman had been trying to tell her last night. The man was a perfect duplicate of Superman, at least superficially, and judging by the demonstration he had put on, he possessed Superman's powers as well.
But the other thing she had seen was almost as mind boggling.
Clark had been standing a little to one side, silently observing, and she had had a clear view of him as he lowered his glasses, squinting at Superman's double. It was something he often did in the newsroom. Lois had assumed that he had astigmatism but for obvious reasons she had never seen the gesture when he had been standing near a perfect copy of Superman before.
As the imposter rocketed away, she glanced back at her partner, trying to decide if she was imagining things. Ever since that night in Clark's apartment, when she had been recovering from the effects of Miranda's perfume, she had been struggling to remember something, some event that escaped her.
It had been the glasses, she remembered suddenly. Wally had broken Clark's glasses and she had reached out to take them. For an instant Clark had frozen and she had been looking at Superman's face. Then he had gone quickly into his room and returned with an older pair of glasses.
She'd been focussed on her pounding headache, she recalled, and besides, she had already noticed earlier that night that Clark looked a great deal like Superman. The event simply hadn't really registered except in her subconscious memory. She hadn't realized just how close Clark's resemblance to Superman really was. Until now. They could have been twins.
Only they weren't twins, of course. There was only one of them -- one of him. She had realized when Superman had told her his history that he had been raised as an ordinary man, and probably lived and worked somewhere in Metropolis. She hadn't known how close to the truth she was.
Her first impulse to say something to him died almost before it was born. Something didn't make sense here, and for just this once she wasn't going to jump in without checking the water level. He couldn't know what she had suddenly realized. Until she figured out exactly what was going on here, it was probably better to say nothing, but once she did, Clark Kent had better have a good explanation, or he was going to be toast.
**********
(tbc)
