A/N: I'm very sorry for this part being late and short. The next part will likely be late also, since I no longer have a buffer and want to get things just right. So, I'm very sorry; and many thanks to the three of you still reading. *g* Anyway, without further ado...
Part Six
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Arnold led her into a comfortable living-room where Jordan and a few others were sitting in a stony silence, casting angry glances at each other. Their expressions cleared when they looked up at her, and they all mumbled their hellos. “Can I get you anything to drink, Great-grandma?”
Lois spotted a few cups on the coffee table that were filled with some kind of green sludge. “What on Earth is this stuff?” she asked, picking one up and sniffing it. It smelled vile!
“Kryptonian cocktail,” one of the guys said, grinning at her. The tension in the room seemed to lessen just a bit. “There's this new brand of drain-cleaner out that, when you mix it with anti-freeze, tastes *exactly* like bubblegum!”
Lois stared at him for a moment, then put the cup down. “And I thought Clark was bad with all the junk-food he eats,” she muttered. “I'll just have a glass of water, thank you.”
Arnold nodded and literally disappeared into the kitchen. He was back in a second and handed Lois her glass. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking it and settling herself on the sofa. “So, what seems to be the trouble?”
The room exploded into shouting.
**********
As the argument raged on, Lois was beginning to understand why Wesley felt her presence was necessary. What she could actually *do*, on the other hand, remained to be seen.
“*Now* who's dealing in hypotheticals, Arnold?! This isn't the dark ages, anymore!”
“I am *not* going to let you put *my* kid in danger just because you feel bad about what happened to yours!”
While Jordan and Arnold were staring each other down, one of the other men in the room interjected. “Look, what happens if Jordan dies, or something? The world would still need a superhero, and with the current political climate—”
“Politics change like the weather!” someone else snapped. “Once the cat's out of the bag, there's no shoving it back in!”
“And it's getting harder to *keep* in the bag,” the man next to Jordan retorted. “The family is getting bigger. Someone is going to screw up. Just look at what happened with Wesley—”
“You leave my son out of this!” Arnold thundered. “The boy's learned his lesson; he's suffered enough!”
Someone handed Lois a cup of tea.
“Exactly!” said Jordan's second supporter. Lois wished she was more clear on who was who; obviously, this must be either Stephen or Rudy. “We've *all* suffered enough! This secret is strangling us!”
“It's keeping us safe!” shouted the man who'd handed Lois the tea. He looked younger than the others, but older than Wesley. Perhaps this was Cousin Lane?
Jordan sat down again on the sofa. “Look, the secret was probably a really great thing back in Great-Grandma's day,” he said with a wave towards Lois, “and maybe even back in our parents' and grandparents' day, but it's over-stayed its welcome. It's time for it to go.”
Arnold's eyes glowed red. “And who are *you* to make that call?!” he demanded.
“Just because you're Superman,” said the man standing with Arnold—Freddie, perhaps? “doesn't make you our spokesperson! You don't get to decide the course of our lives!”
“What,” one of the men with Jordan snapped, “and you get to decide ours?! Maybe some of us *want* to be out!”
Lois grimaced as the fight once again deteriorated into overlapping shouts and name-calling. In the ensuing chaos, it took a while for anyone to realize that music had suddenly started playing from somewhere. The shouting tapered off into grumbling as Jordan reached for his phone. Shortly after answering it, he handed it to Lois. “It's for you, Grams,” he said.
She took the tiny device from him and tried to settle it near her ear and mouth. When that clearly wasn't going to happen completely, she settled for just placing it near her ear. “Hello?”
“Grams!” came Charlotte's voice, sounding a little upset. “Where are you?”
“Oh, I'm just visiting some of your cousins,” Lois replied. “Why? What's the matter?”
“Hans never came back!” Charlotte told her. “Everyone's going nuts, especially Les! We can't continue the shoot without Superman, and there's rumors that if we can't get back on schedule, the producers will pull out and the whole film could go belly-up! I turned down Queen Liz for this, Grams. How could he do this to us?!”
“Charlotte, calm down,” Lois said as soothingly as she could. “I'm sure everything will be—” she paused and glanced at the storm still roiling in the living room. They were still arguing, though they were at least making an effort to keep their voices down while she was on the phone. An idea began to cross her mind. She took a deep breath. “Charlotte? Go find Les. Tell him I can solve his Superman problem. I'll be right over.”
When Charlotte hung up, Lois stood. “Enough,” she said.
The room fell silent.
“It's obvious that you all can't agree on this,” Lois began, “and you're right that none of you should be able to decide for everyone else. This is a family, not a business or a government.”
They all blinked at her. “So, what should we do, Great-Gran?” one of them asked.
Lois took another deep breath and let it out. She hoped she was doing the right thing, here. “For now, drop it.”
Jordan frowned. “What?”
“Leave the secret alone, for now,” Lois said. “I don't want any of you to do any press-conferences or anything—at least, not yet.”
Three of the men in the room cheered, while the other three gaped at her in shock and dismay. Jordan, in particular, looked absolutely betrayed. Lois felt her heart lurch.
“Grams, why?” Jordan asked.
“Because you need to stick together,” Lois replied. “Whatever happens, you'll need to be able to work together as a family, without any finger-pointing or resentment.”
Everyone began talking at once. Lois held up a hand for silence. When they settled down, again, she took a deep breath. “One more thing: Jordan, I need you to step down as Superman.”
“What?!” everyone in the room exclaimed.
“Not permanently,” Lois hastily amended, “Give yourself a deadline—say, if by the time Charlotte's movie gets released, nothing's changed and you still can't get a replacement, then go ahead and come back as Superman.”
“So, what—I'm grounded?” he huffed, folding his arms and glowering at her.
Lois put her hands on her hips and glowered back. “Yes!”
Jordan looked away.
“You need a break, Jordan,” Lois added, more softly. “I can see it every time I look at you. So, just trust me, okay?”
He reluctantly nodded.
“But, what if they need Superman?” Lane asked her. “I mean, he can't just disappear!” He paused. “Can he?”
“Well, it's not like they're paying him,” Arnold chimed in.
Jordan sighed. “I guess I'll go announce--”
“No!” Lois said quickly. At everyone's confused stares, she clarified, “I—um, I think it would be best if they didn't know you were taking time off. I mean, they'll realize you're gone soon enough, so why give the criminals a head start?”
They all nodded, dubiously.
“Now,” Lois continued before they could ask any further questions, “I need to get back to the Planet. Could one of you give me a lift?”
Jordan started to rise to his feet. “Sure, Grams; I—”
“Arnold!” she interrupted, attaching herself to the bewildered man's elbow. “You don't mind, right? I'm sure the others can house-sit for you, and anyway, I'd like to find out if Wesley's driving skills are genetic.” She beamed at him.
“Uh...sure,” Arnold replied, while Jordan sulked on the sofa. “I'll just..be a few minutes, you guys.”
Lois said her goodbyes and followed Arnold out to his car. Phase one was underway.
To Be Continued...
