Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Wrong Clark (172/???)

Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Author’s Note: Per Mike M.’s request, due to the graphic nature of Lex Luthor’s thoughts, I am posting a WHAM warning whenever I now post a new part which includes something from his POV.
Where we left off in Part 171…

“Well, it looks like Monique Kahn was found about six miles from Luthor’s manor house outside of town,” Clark called into the other room as he stood up and headed back in to dinner with the guys. “Cat said she had been doing an investigation into Luthor on her own, which compiled with our data might be enough circumstantial evidence to get us a warrant. She’ll have it for us tomorrow.”

Perry stared at him. “Cat was also investigating Lex? Well, she sure as hell didn’t tell me about it.”

Clark shrugged. “Sounds like there’s a lot of that going around.”

Perry pointed at a notepad, which now sat next to his plate. Obviously, he had retrieved it while Clark had been on the phone with Cat. “According to the insurance commission, LexCorp had a $100,000 policy out on Ms. Kahn.”

Jimbo whistled. “Can you believe this guy? He kills the woman, and then has the nerve to pick up the insurance on her death.”

“Cut and dried insurance fraud,” Perry said.

“If only we can prove it,” Clark reminded them. They’d have to prove the murder as well.

A cold chill crept down his spine. Had Luthor insured Lois as well? Did he plan to have her disappear during their honeymoon? He recalled the men who had attacked her in Suicide Slum while she met Hicky Ricky. Lois had said she wouldn’t put it past Luthor for being behind it.

Clark stood up, unable to eat. He wished Cat had given him the code to Lois’s watch. “I… uh… need to switch my laundry…” he mumbled and willed that his flight out of the apartment seemed slow enough to be human.

***

Part 172

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Sleight of Hand
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After reassuring himself of Lois’s safety, and running a quick patrol, Clark had returned to his apartment to help Jimbo and Perry organize the information they had gathered into a workable story to present to Inspector Henderson the following morning. They hoped Cat’s data would give them enough evidence to start proceedings against Luthor, but both he and Perry thought they were still a few hard facts shy of an arrest warrant. They also didn’t want to reveal their hand too soon due to time running out, only to lack the evidence to keep Luthor in jail. Having Luthor on guard would make him all the harder to catch.

Once he had double-checked that Lois had returned safely to her apartment from her evening out with Luthor, Clark had then proceeded to the docks to work his midnight to six a.m. shift unloading boxes. It wasn’t the ideal shift for him, being that most criminals preferred to work at night. Since his remaining gold nuggets had been stolen from his safety deposit box and he didn’t have the savings he once had back in his old dimension to fall back upon, he needed a job to keep up on rent for his apartment. He also worked a couple hours on the Kent farm to help them out, before rushing back to Metropolis to crash in bed for a few hours prior to his meeting with Cat.

Jimbo knew about his job at the docks, so it was also a good cover story to explain why Clark often wasn’t home during the night. The truth was Clark only worked at the docks at most four days a week and it was usually three, and, sometimes, only two. Often Jimbo would be late, hanging out with his friends from M.U.T., and thus allowing Clark the freedom to leave without his roommate noticing that he didn’t leave by the front door.

It felt to Clark that he had just completed his morning shower and had crawled into bed for a few hours of shut-eye, when he heard the echoing wails of youngsters. At first, the screams had seeped into his dreams, forming the familiar nightmare, which consisted of everyone he had failed to save calling for Superman, while he was powerless to help. Sometimes, he was able to wake before the dream got to its natural and deadly conclusion. Often, though, he awoke drenched in sweat and haunted by having to watch them die once again. Thankfully, this was one of the former rather than latter occasions. Once he was awake, he realized the screams were real. Judging by the echo patterns, he determined there were many children calling out simultaneously.

Glancing up to see that Jimbo was still asleep in the loft, Clark quickly spun into his uniform and slipped out the door to his patio. Once in the sky, he pinpointed the direction of the screams and discovered to his horror it originated from the Luthor House for Homeless Children.

Clark found emergencies at orphanages and schools always the hardest from which to recover. Often, by the time Superman heard the calls for help it was too late to save everyone. Each time, he spent longer at these sites, double and triple checking to make sure that everyone had made it out. There was always one child so scared of the noises, smoke, and the strange men in firefighting suits and oxygen masks, that he had locked himself into a closet or hidden himself under a bed. Such a child was too terrified to make a sound to save himself when firefighters called out for people. Clark reminded himself to have Murray make an appointment for Superman with the Metropolis Fire Chief to discuss funding yearly ‘fire preparedness’ seminars. If they could save one child’s life by letting kids know how firefighters looked in their uniforms before a fire, it would be worth more than any expense for the seminars.

Two seconds after leaving Clinton Street, Superman burst through a window on the top floor of the Luthor House for Homeless Children, scooping up two youngsters into his arms and flying them down to the courtyard below. The fire trucks had yet to arrive, but he could hear their approaching sirens.

It would be another long day.

***

After a knock, Lex’s personal assistant entered Lex’s living room and stood waiting for Lex to acknowledge her.

“Yes, Mrs. Cox?” Lex said, pulling his eyes from his beloved fiancée to look at his employee.

“You asked me to contact you when Project K was ready for your inspection, Lex,” she said, stiffer than her usual demeanor, but Lex figured that was merely because his hand was holding Lois’s on the table.

“Fabulous!” Lex replied before pulling back his enthusiasm. He wiped his face with his napkin and returned his attention to Lois. Raising her hand to his mouth, he kissed the inside of her wrist. “Thank you so much for joining me for brunch today, darling.” He ran his other hand over her hair, wishing she hadn’t cut it so short the previous summer so that it would be past her shoulders now. “The first of many breakfasts to be shared between us for years to come,” he said, resting his hand at the back of Lois’s head and drawing her towards him. He lowered his voice, “The next one shall be in our honeymoon bed.”

At the last second, Lois turned her face so that his kiss landed on her cheek, as she whispered, “Not in front of the help, Lex.”

He placed a smile on his face, disappointed by the lack of affection, but secretly thrilled at both how she teased him and how she rightly considered Mrs. Cox beneath them. He turned from Lois and looked at his assistant. “If you could wait for me in my office, Mrs. Cox. I’ll be with you presently.”

Mrs. Cox’s lips thinned as she nodded at him. “Time is of the essence, Lex. We need to start within the next few minutes or we’ll lose our window of opportunity,” she said, and then turned sharply, returning to Lex’s office.

As soon as the doors closed behind Mrs. Cox, he pressed his lips to Lois’s and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Lois jerked back from this display of his love and scolded him, “Lex!” She, then, picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Never reject me in front of the help again,” he growled.

“Excuse me?” she said, standing up and dropping her napkin on to her plate. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Lex. I don’t take orders, not even from you.”

She walked across to the sofa and retrieved her purse. The fire in her words and eyes caused the opposite reaction than what she probably expected. He had never desired her more and was glad Mrs. Cox was waiting for him next door, though he doubted they had time to satisfy his current need. One more day until Lois had to acquiesce to his demands and it was starting to feel like an eternity.

Lex joined Lois at the stairs leading up to his private front door and blocked her exit. “You misunderstand me, darling,” he said gently, wanting to do nothing more than to throw her onto his settee and take what was rightfully his.

In her current state, he knew that there would be kicking, screaming, and biting involved, and with Superman being kept busy across town doing rescues there wouldn’t be anyone who would stop him. Alas, he wanted more than one time with Lois and knew that if he forced her now, there wouldn’t be a second time. If he couldn’t be patient with his desires then he would fail to enact Project K and destroy Superman both physically and emotionally at the same time. Well, technically, he still could, but the victory would feel hollow compared to what he had planned.

“It was merely a request,” he continued. “If my employees saw how much power you have over me, they would never respect me again. I’d be the laughing stock of LexCorp and I cannot have that.”

“I don’t have any control over you, Lex,” Lois replied.

He smiled, stepping closer to her. “Ah, but you do, darling,” he whispered, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Why do you think you’ve succeeded where so many other women have failed? I love you as I’ve never loved another woman in my entire life. I cannot live without you.”

Lex spoke the truth. He had to possess her. It wasn’t merely a desire, anymore. It was a need, a requirement for his life, like breathing. If he were to lose her, now, after all he had put into this, he wouldn’t be accountable for his actions. Thankfully, he had Arianna to stand by him and declare him temporarily insane.

“That’s sweet, Lex,” Lois said softly, almost hesitantly. “But you should care more about how I feel than what your employees think. Mentioning our wedding bed in front of that woman was humiliating.”

He could have argued that Mrs. Cox couldn’t possibly have heard him, but he would rather send Lois on her on her way, blissfully thinking of him, than arguing with her and messing up his Project K timeline. “You’re right, Lois, and I apologize,” he lied, appreciating her response of a genuine smile. “Now, go off to your day of pampering.”

“Oh, Lex, I wanted to ask you…”

He smiled at her indulgently. “I’ll see you this evening for our final date. You can ask me then.”

“But, Lex, this is important… Wait. Final date?” she returned. “You’re not planning on taking me out after we’re married?” She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Ah, but then you’ll be legally required to be there,” he teased with a wink. “I merely meant, final date before we’re married, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, slipping his arms around her in the process. “Now, go relax and have fun.”

“Uh-huh,” she joked back. She patted his shoulder as she passed out of his arms and up the stairs. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Out of all the women he had wanted, only Lois had held so tightly onto her virtue. True, he never had possessed Cat Grant, but he could have, easily, at any time during the last few years. He loved that Lois still fought for her independence, despite coming back for more of him. He was sure that sex with her would be as addicting as any lethal drug. Because of her fight and drive for perfection, sex for them would always be new and exciting. He certainly never questioned why Superman was so enamored of her.

Bender’s nephew was an idiot, if he thought this woman could ever be an ice maiden.

Lex watched as Lois turned back and gazed down at him from the top of the stairs.

“I love this view,” she said, a devilish sparkle in her eye. “I must confess I love the fact that everyone in the city has to look up to see me.”

He chuckled. “Touché, darling. Touché.” He blew her a kiss.

As soon as she passed out his front door, Lex slipped his intercom out of his pocket and depressed the button. “Nigel, Ms. Lane has just left. Make sure that she takes her time. I don’t wish to be interrupted.”

“As you wish, sir,” Nigel replied.

Lex let go of the button and slipped the receiver back into his pocket, just as he reached his office door. “Ready, my dear?” he asked Mrs. Cox.

She nodded, her brown hair bouncing as it grazed her mid-neck.

“Then let’s get started.” Lex pushed the switch for his secret room and headed straight to the vault hidden behind the old master’s painting he had redone in lead based paint. Flipping aside the picture, he typed in the code for his safe, also lined with lead, and removed three items. After shutting the vault, he turned around and handed two of the items to his assistant before closing the door to his secret room. Lex placed the third item into the machine on his desk and pressed ‘start’. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he activated his remote control for his office. The balcony doors opened and fresh air poured inside his office. He gazed out into the piercing and uninterrupted sky of blue.

When he turned around, Lois Lane stood before him. Taller, more erect than he had ever seen her. Her eyes flared at him with a flash of hatred.

“Darling!”

“I’m worried… about my mother,” Lois’s voice said to him as her body continued to stand stiffly as he approached. “I still haven’t heard from her… and… our wedding… is tomorrow.”

“Yes, I know. She’ll be there. I promise,” Lex reassured her.

“Are you sure?... I don’t know where she is… I love her… Lex,” she went on.

He stepped up to her and slapped her hard across the face.

“Lex!” Lois’s voice gasped. He could hear a slight waver in it.

“Never talk back to me again, Lois,” he insisted.

“Yes… Lex.” Her voice sounded stilted and awkward, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

He was losing control. He could no longer wait. He slapped her again, harder this time, with the back of his hand and a wave of desire coursed through his veins.

“Ow!” Lois drew her hands up to protect her face. The anger was gone from her eyes, but a fear was creeping in. “What are you…?”

“Quiet, woman!” he hissed, grabbing her neck and pushing her face down on his desk.

“No! Wait!” Lois moaned. “I love you.”

She had never spoken those words to him before. Lex had thought she had, but no. She had said them only to him, to that vigilante, that hero, that alien. That thought only spurred Lex on. Superman deserved to die for what he had done. Lois would love Lex if it weren’t for Superman.

“Lois, you’re mine,” Lex announced gruffly, placing his hand on her thigh and pushing up her skirt as he continued to hold her down with his other hand. “Soon you’ll be...”

She screamed as Lex flew across the room and hit the wall.

***

Jack raised his hand to knock on Kent’s door. He hesitated and took a deep breath.

“Go on,” a voice to his side encouraged. “You heard what Superman said. He can’t help us, but this reporter Clark Kent can.”

Jack nodded and wrapped an arm briefly around his brother’s shoulders. “You know how much I hate asking for help,” he grumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine,” Denny said, stepping forward and placing his knuckles on the heavy wood door.

“Kent! That better be…” an older man with graying hair said as he opened the door. “Oh, sorry. I thought you might be…”

Jack took a step back. “No, I can’t…”

Denny grabbed his arm. “We’re looking for Clark Kent. Superman sent us.”

The older man’s eyes widened. “Superman…” He cleared his throat.

“Hey, Chief! That’s the kid who stole…”

“I din’t steal nothing!” Jack hollered, stepping forward with a finger pointed at the brat who had accused him the last time he had tried this. “I found that lunchbox fair and square in the trash can. Public domain. Look it up!”

“Hold on! Hold on!” the old man said, raising up his hands like Jack had seen preachers do on television.

“Chief? You a cop or something?” Jack asked, eyeing the old man. He gave a sideways glance at his brother before inching backwards.

“No. Do I look like a cop?” the old man asked, before wincing. “Don’t answer that. I’m… I was the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet. Perry White is my name, and you are?”

“Looking for Clark Kent. I’ve got a message for him,” Jack said, sticking out his chest.

“He should be here any minute,” Mr. White said, moving far enough back to invite them inside.

Denny peered through the door, but Jack didn’t like it. Walls meant that one’s options for escape were limited.

“Would you like something to eat?” Mr. White offered.

Rebelling against him, Jack’s stomach rumbled loudly. “Like what?”

“Can you believe this kid...?” the brat started saying before the old man hushed him.

“I’m hungry for just about anything,” Denny confessed. “Anything, but sandwiches. I never want to see another sandwich for the rest of my life. Or oatmeal.”

At the old man’s quizzical expression, Jack explained, “The Luthor House isn’t big on variety. Oatmeal for breakfast. Sandwiches for lunch and surprise casserole for dinner. If you’re well behaved enough to be fed at all.”

“There’s some leftover broccoli chicken casserole CK made last night,” the brat suggested.

“Jimmy!” Mr. White hissed, allowing Jack to have a name to go with the brat’s face. “I was thinking more like pizza.”

Jack smiled. “Now, you’re talking.”

***

Jack tossed what remained of his slice of pizza into the empty box and leaned back against the couch cushions. “So, then Pete says, ‘All you have to do is make a little delivery to get the cash.’ I figured that couldn’t be too bad. I made deliveries to Kent from… uh… the lady at the Mission. That turned out okay, even if she was cheap and has a bad taste in men.”

Jimmy looked confused at this point.

“Lois,” Mr. White mumbled. No slipping this guy any rotten tomatoes. He must have caught Jack’s expression, because he explained how he knew, “She’s Kent’s partner. Worked with us at the Daily Planet.”

Jack nodded. That’s right. Bobby had told him the same thing. Jack was just double-checking his facts. “I ask, ‘What kind of delivery?’ And Pete says, ‘A package.’ That there sent up a stop sign. A package on the street is usually something illegal: drugs, stolen goods, a severed head, that sort of thing. I didn’t want any part of it. Delivering the crazy lady’s notes was one thing, but I wasn’t taking no packages.”

Mr. White leaned forward his brow furrowed. “Why exactly do you think Lois is crazy?”

“Hello? She’s marrying the big Boss man himself! Lex Luthor! She’s terrified as hell of him, thinks he’s out to kill her, but there it is on the cover of the National Whisper…” Jack spread out his hands as if showing them the headline. “‘Wedding of the Century Tomorrow! Lex Luthor to Wed Lois Lane!’” He rolled his eyes. Undeniable proof.

“She seemed really nice when I met her at Christmas, Jack,” Denny said, speaking up for the first time since the pizza had arrived. “She was really worried when I told her what Mrs. Cox had done to you.”

“Wait. Lois is that reporter lady you told me about?” Jack said, staring at his brother.

Why hadn’t Lois done anything? Why hadn’t she contacted Superman about him being held against his will? With no food on Christmas, only a cup of water? What about the Billy club to the back of his thighs and the bottom of his feet, so nobody could see the bruises? Didn’t she care about that?

He had been kept in solitary, a cinderblock room with no blankets, no bed, and no light for a week before they let him out. He was parched, five pounds lighter, and had a chest cold. He behaved after that, no doubt about it, but in truth, he was only biding his time until he found a way to escape. It wasn’t until the panic of Nightfall when the guards left, not caring whether the kids lived or died, locked in the building, that Jack had been able to break out. Literally. He broke a window, shimmied down a drainpipe, and climbed over the fence. He promised his brother he’d be back in the light of day to pop him and the others.

By the next morning, the world was safe again and the Luthor House for Homeless Children was guarded once more, not to keep the bad guys out... but to prevent the kids from leaving.

“Son?” Mr. White said softly, breaking through Jack thoughts.

“I’m not your son!” Jack exclaimed, throwing up his hands as he paced. He didn’t recall even standing up. “My dad’s dead. Killed by the Englishman.”

“We don’t have proof of that, Jack,” Denny said, pleading with his eyes for Jack to admit he had lied. “Dad will find us someday, Jack. I know he will.”

“Oh, grow up, Denny!” Jack yelled. “Dad worked for the Englishman, and the Englishman works for the richest man in America. If Dad were still alive, why would the Englishman come and trash our apartment? Huh? You tell me that?”

“I don’t know,” Denny replied, squirming. “Like you said, he was looking for Dad. He must have been hiding out, so the Englishman couldn’t get him, but… but… he couldn’t get back before rent was due and…”

“No! The Englishman was cleaning up, making sure Dad didn’t leave anything that would tie him to The Boss and the Englishman,” Jack said. “Would Dad just leave us? Just like that? With no word, no money, no food, nothing?”

Denny looked at his big brother with tears glimmering in his eyes and Jack knew he had gone too far. Denny would never make it on the streets. He wasn’t hard and streetwise like Jack was. He was all heart, the big softy. That was why Jack had taken them to the Luthor House for Homeless Children in the first place, to give Denny a chance. That had been the biggest mistake of his life.

Jack put his arms around his brother. “But I’m here. I came back for you, didn’t I?”

His brother nodded against Jack’s chest.

“Nobody’s going to take us apart again, are they?”

Denny shook his head. “No, they aren’t.” He looked up at Jack and smiled.

Mr. White opened a folder and slid a photograph across the table towards Jack and Denny. “Is this the Englishman?” he asked.

Jack nodded. “Yeah. He picked Lois up from the Mission once, and Bobby said he had a funny-sounding British name. Nitrate or something.”

“Nigel St. John?” Mr. White said.

“That’s it.”

Mr. White glanced over at Jimmy before squeezing his wrist with his watch on it when he glanced at the time. “You said Superman sent you?”

Denny nodded. “Yeah. He saved me, saved me from the fire this morning,” he said, and then coughed. “Set me down right in front of Jack, too.” He grinned at his brother, which made Jack feel like he was wearing the cape instead of the hero. “Somehow, he just knew.”

“’Cause he has Super hearing, doofus brain, and he heard me calling for you,” Jack replied, teasing as he ruffled Denny’s hair. He looked at Mr. White. “Pete wanted me to deliver the package to the Luthor House. I figured it was drugs. It’s how Mrs. Browning controls the older kids. Most of them are already hooked before they arrive, and she gets them to do stuff in exchange for the drugs.”

“What kind of drugs?” Jimmy asked.

“All kinds. Pot, coke, heroine, alcohol, prescription. Whatever’s your poison, she’s got access to it. Dad always taught us that no matter how bad things got, it wasn’t worth it to put crap into our bodies,” Jack said, sitting back down and picking up the remains of his pizza he had tossed there earlier. He took another bite. No point in letting it go to waste. “We were only given this one body and it’s gotta last us a lifetime.”

“Good advice,” Mr. White replied. “So, was that what was in the package?”

“Don’t know. I told Pete that I don’t touch drugs. He said it wasn’t, but he isn’t one I’d really consider trustworthy. Anyway, he said that it was a gift for the Man of Steel who would be visiting the Luthor House today. Then he showed me a lunchbox, like that…” Jack pointed his thumb at the pail he’d swiped after Mrs. Cox had dumped it. “— only square. More like a kids’ lunch box. I said that I wouldn’t touch it. I knew what was in it. Mrs. Cox had left the Daily Planet carrying that lunchbox and later on, I hear that the Daily Planet bomb had been in a lunch box. Pete says, that it’s ‘totally safe’. I thought maybe he didn’t know what was in it. So, I flipped it open and there was a clock ticking down the hours. Stub told him again that he had called it that I’m ‘smart’. Pete says, ‘don’t worry about it, Rat…’ That’s my name on the street.”

“Why do they call you ‘Rat’?” Denny asked.

Jack shrugged. “Still trying to figure that one out myself.”

“Why didn’t Pete want you to worry about it?” Mr. White asked.

“’Cause he said that he and his brother had planted similar stuff over at some college kid’s apartment and it’d be perfectly harmless ‘til the timer went off,” Jack went on. “Then, boom!”

“College kid? That must be my old apartment! Pete’s the one who set Jimmy and me up!” Jimmy said. It was a strange thing to say since his name was Jimmy, too. He jumped to his feet. “You said you saw Mrs. Cox with my lunch box?”

“Son, there’s no way to prove that Jack’s lunch box was the same one Jimmy took to work with him that day.”

“Sure, there is,” Jimmy said. “Hey, Denny can you show the Chief here the bottom of the lunch box?”

Denny picked up the box and held it up to the old man. Jack craned his head around to see what Jimmy was talking about. Etched on the bottom of the lunch box was the name J.B. Olsen.

“Great shades of Elvis!” crowed Mr. White, clapping his hands. “We’ve got him!”

Kent sure had weird friends.

“Told ya,” Jimmy said with a smart alecky grin. He hadn’t been kidding that the box was his.

“Did you open this?” Mr. White asked Jack.

“Sure. It had a sandwich, a soda, and some chips. I was hungry,” Jack replied.

“Did you wipe it down?”

Jack gazed at the old man as if he was nuts. “Why in the hell would I do that?”

“Then, maybe, there are still fingerprints,” Mr. White said.

Jack shook his head. “Nope. Mrs. Cox was wearing gloves.”

Mr. White smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Not hers. His cousin Jimmy’s.”

Oh. Well, that explained the funny thing about the names.

Mr. White clapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “We can’t wait around all day for Kent to get back from Cat’s with her evidence. We have enough to contact Bill and get the ball rolling.”

Bill? Cat?

“Feel like taking a ride downtown and telling your story again?” Mr. White asked.

Jack’s eyes widened and he turned to Denny. “No. I’m not talking to any cops,” he insisted. He knew that they’d never let him off for those smash and grabs he had done. “Superman told me to talk to Clark Kent, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Mr. White nodded. “We’re part of Kent’s team, son. He should be here any minute.”

Of course, that’s what the old man had said an hour earlier when they’d arrived.

“Well, maybe I can get Bill to come here. More private anyway,” Mr. White continued.

“I’m not leaving my brother,” Jack warned the old man in case he had any ideas about contacting social services. “I just turned eighteen and am legally his guardian. They can’t separate us now.”

“I’m sure CK would be okay with you staying here with us for the time being,” Jimmy assured him. CK was what Jimmy called Clark Kent.

Jack glanced around. It was clean, had plenty of light, and a fully stocked fridge. There was a working toilet and a shower with hot water. It was paradise. “We’ll consider it,” he replied.

***

Clark’s feet ached, from his little toes to his heel as if he had recently crossed hot coals.

Clark’s head burned within from a never-ending repetition of synaptic explosions.

Everything in between felt as if he had been set ablaze, as well, especially his gut, which was why he was lying in a fetal position on the floor, trying desperately not to cry. He didn’t want to give Luthor the satisfaction.

Superman had been flying past when he heard Luthor tell Lois to be quiet, that she was his, and slapped her. That had been when Clark had glanced in through Luthor’s open balcony doors and saw that Luthor had pinned Lois against his desk and was pulling up her skirt.

Just recalling this image felt as if someone had struck Clark’s vulnerable head with a chain saw. The physicality of his pain was sharp and raw.

What happened after that moment wasn’t so clear. Filled with rage, Clark had burst into Luthor’s office and shoved him off Lois. As Clark had turned her over to comfort and apologize to her, that was when his agony had truly begun and his memories blurred. Suddenly, he had known how a poor bird caught in electrical lines felt. Hanging in the center of Lois’s chest was a child’s fist sized chunk of Kryptonite, dangling off a gold chain.

“Is he alive?” he heard Luthor’s voice ask, interrupting his thoughts. “I don’t want him dead, yet.”

Death would be preferable to this, Clark thought.

Another sharp poke stabbed him in the back and Clark couldn’t help but groan from the unfamiliar feeling of pain.

“He’s alive, Lex,” a female voice replied, before she moved to the other side of the hero and pinched his cheek. “He just made a noise.”

The lilting female voice wasn’t Lois’s. Was there another woman in the room?

***End of Part 172***

Part 173

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