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

Where we left off in Part 183…

Lois flipped a light switch to reveal a set of shackles bolted to the floor several feet apart and under three manacles hanging from a chained bar coming down from the ceiling. The center ring was larger than the other two as if to restrain someone’s neck. The set-up reminded Lois of the bondage wall in Luthor’s office downstairs, except for the green glow.

Lois let go of the cuff and opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no words. Her heart pounded as she reached up to tug one of the handcuffs lower and confirm her suspicions. It was encrusted with fragments of a green glowing rock.

“Who?” she finally sputtered, even though she knew the answer and knew it very well. Only one man could be controlled by green glowing rock. Her mind flashed to Clark’s sallow appearance when she had seen him several hours earlier. His eyes had been bloodshot. He had flinched whenever she touched him as if he were in pain.

“Don’t you know?” Henderson replied.

He knew. She didn’t know how Henderson knew, but he did. Then, she rememebered that she had called Henderson in to help her remove the Kryptonite dust off her engagement ring. It explained his discretion earlier. It wasn’t for her sake as much as Superman’s.

Had Henderson found Superman waiting in this chamber? Had she been wrong about Superman having been exposed at the bombing of the children’s home? On the other hand, had Superman been captured there and brought here? Had Clark slowly and painfully had the life sucked out of him as he was forced to stare out that window at Luthor’s honeymoon bed and wonder when Lois would be brought to it? Neither thoughts of her going willingly or dragged unwillingly would bring him comfort.

Her imagination went wild with what Luthor had done to Superman in this chamber, while he had been under his enemy’s power.

She pulled her eyes away from the Kryptonite covered rings and saw that the back of the room was stacked with videos. Her hand rose to her mouth. She took a step forward.

Antoinette Baines, PhD.

Toni Taylor.

Elizabeth Cox.

Miranda.

Lena Harrison.

Gretchen Kelly, MD.

Diana Stride.

Amber Lake.

Lisa Rockford.

These were just a few of the names that jumped out at her. There were many, many more.

Inspector Henderson came to stand next to her.

“There’s one name you won’t find on that wall,” Lois said, striding out of the room. “Mine!”

She stopped in Luthor’s private study to lean against one of the high backed chairs to catch her breath and to find her Mad Dog mask that she wore in front of others. She couldn’t drag it up; it was simply gone. She gulped air, trying to keep the tears clouding her eyes at bay. No wonder Clark hadn’t wanted to talk to her about it. What had Luthor done to Clark?

He needed time. Time to heal, Clark had said. And distance.

Lois winced. He had meant distance from her, as she had first supposed.

And from this investigation, from his thoughts, and from the nightmare which was Lex Luthor. It amazed her that Clark had thought he could be cured from Luthor’s treatment in a mere two days. Did Clark’s abilities help him block out the emotional anguish that came with this chosen profession of hero? No wonder he hadn’t wanted her to come to Vegas.

Then she recalled how when she first knew Clark, he had choked up when he spoke about witnessing the death of his parents, and how the smell of sweets and the taste of chocolate brought it to the forefront of his mind. No, he was as helpless as any human was in that regard.

Clark hadn’t spoken to her about why he had disappeared the day before, or what had caused his absence from the end of their investigation. He hadn’t even told her about having been exposed to the Kryptonite. She had assumed, and wrongly at that, that Luthor had only wanted to kill Superman.

This… this was much worse.

Part 184

It was some time before Henderson joined her back in this small study. Lois appreciated him giving her time to come to terms, at least outwardly, with the ramifications of what she had seen.

When he did emerge from the secret room, Henderson shut the bookcase door behind him, hopefully locking away Luthor’s torture room forever. “Have you seen Superman since yesterday?” he asked.

Lois shook her head. Clark, yes, but Superman was currently unavailable.

“Can you ask Clark if he has? Well, when he recovers from what must be a mother of a hangover.”

His what? No wonder Clark’s eyes both were bloodshot and hidden behind sunglasses. She’d never known him to have more than a beer or a glass of wine, and rarely that, so why in the hell had he gone drinking last night of all nights? What had Luthor done to him?

“You can ask him yourself, when he returns from his impromptu trip to Las Vegas,” she snapped, not out of leftover anger at Clark or even Henderson, but because the real man she wanted to shout at wasn’t available. He was dead. Let Henderson think Lois was out of sorts with Clark, instead of pained at what he must have suffered, to help keep up his disguise.

Henderson nodded. “That’s just what he needs to recover; some time away. Catherine said he was in quite bad shape after his ordeal with the muggers. Sometimes, it takes a little time and distance to heal properly.”

Catherine? Lois frowned. As in Catherine Grant? Her lips pinched into a line. Cat had called her early this morning to ask Lois some question about Luthor. Lois hadn’t thought about it at the time, but why was she interested in some fact that Lois might know about Luthor? Cat had been with Clark when Lois saw him dressed in that ill-fitting suit and women’s sunglasses the previous afternoon. Had Henderson contacted Cat instead of Lois when Superman was in need of assistance? That made no sense whatsoever, unless Henderson…

She eyed the inspector warily. No, he had just asked if Lois had seen Superman. On the other hand, he also asked her to question Clark about it. Clark, whom the inspector had been told, spent the last twenty-four hours passed out in an alley and then wandering lost in the city. Then, again, Clark and Lois were known as the two people who seemed to know Superman the best.

She couldn’t broach the subject easily without a chance revelation of something that the Inspector didn’t know. She remembered her conversation with Perry after Nightfall too well. The best way to find out what Henderson knew was to worm it out of him with a trick question, but that wasn’t a sort of conversation to have here, where she knew the walls had ears.

Lois would have to swallow her pride and talk to Cat herself to find out how Clark had ended up in the gossip lady’s company the previous day. Perhaps Clark… Superman had left Lex Tower of his own free will and then telephoned Cat as soon as he could to have her bring him a change of clothing. Why wouldn’t he have contacted Lois? Of course, he knew she was busy with her fake wedding.

Yes, that made sense, much more sense than Henderson calling on Cat Grant, infamous harlot, to assist Superman when he could clearly not defend himself against her wiles. Then, again, not only was Cat now a married woman and expecting, she knew that Superman was Clark, so perhaps she wouldn’t have taken advantage of him. Neither of those excuses would make Lois trust her any more, but there was a chance she had changed. Anyway, knowing Cat, she would only want Clark for a wild ride, which he couldn’t give her in his current condition. Not that Clark would ever willingly be interested in Cat in that way. Lois shook her head to try to rid herself of these wayward thoughts.

The inspector seemed to recognize the green rock on the shackles and manacles as being the same substance they removed from the engagement ring. She should’ve known not to discount Henderson’s intelligence since he had been able to not only ascertain the name and whereabouts of the programmer of the Nightfall Virus, but also convince him to bear witness against Lex Luthor.

Henderson raised his hand to indicate that they should depart.

“Do you think I could get an interview with the suspected programmer of the Nightfall Virus?” she asked in her sweetest tone.

“No,” Henderson replied, clearly not buying it. “Off the record, he and his family have been placed in witness protection.”

“But Lex Luthor is dead,” Lois stated, exiting the small study.

“Mr. Luthor may be dead,” he said. “But there are a great many people around the world who would also wish to exact retribution against even a conciliatory man tricked to become involved in the Nightfall hoax.”

Henderson was speaking of the programmer, but she realized his words would work easily as well for Clark… or, in this case, Superman. Would knowing that Nightfall was a hoax made expressly to discredit Superman slow his response in the future should another city-ending or world-ending event happen? Would Superman be more cautious, wondering if he could be flying into a trap?

No. Superman would do what he had always done; help where he could no matter the risks to himself or his reputation. Just as he didn’t judge anyone he rescued from harm’s way, leaving that up to the justice system. It was one of the reasons she had fallen so hard for him, his selflessness. He never thought of himself before others.

She frowned. Until Clark insisted that he should go to Las Vegas to recover instead of stay in Metropolis with her.

What had Luthor done to him? Her mind filled once more with horrible scenarios, all of which she hoped were untrue.

They were standing back in Luthor’s bedroom by this time. She gazed at that horrible monstrosity of a headboard with the garish scenes and protruding elephants with bronze rings, their trunks curving upward. She glanced back at the mirror, wondering what Luthor could have been thinking.

Turning away from her last look at the huge mirror, she saw Luthor’s bed in a whole new light. Her jaw dropped in stunned disbelief as everything suddenly clicked into focus.

It wasn’t about me.

Lois bolted out of the bedroom with Henderson on her heels.

“Ms. Lane?” he called after her.

“I just figured out the date,” she said, rushing down the stairs and across the penthouse living room.

“Do I dare ask?”

Lois didn’t respond as she went through the door into Luthor’s office and over to the still open blackened safe room. She stood before the vault and tried to calm her racing heart, so glad that it was only her and Inspector Henderson standing there. Who knew what kind of evils Luthor had kept in here?

“Wait!” Henderson said as she raised her finger to type in the date of the failed Prometheus bombing.

“What?”

“Do you think he booby-trapped it?” he asked. “Perhaps we should let my cousin in the bomb squad open it, instead.”

If she knew Luthor, and she did, the only one who would be harmed by opening this vault was on a plane safely heading halfway across the country.

Lois rolled her eyes and typed in the number, the date Superman first arrived in Metropolis and foiled a plot of Luthor’s.

The lights on the vault switched from red to green and hissed slightly as it cracked open its door. As she reached to pull it open fully, Henderson touched her shoulder.

“I’d better do that,” he said. Unbeknownst to her, he had put on latex gloves.

With a scowl, Lois took a step backward. Technically, she guessed, this was a crime scene and not a search for a pirate’s booty. A flash of a light bulb went off behind her, causing her to jump.

Turning, she saw three men dressed in suits standing just outside of Luthor’s charred safe room. The Feds. One of them was documenting the opening of the safe with his camera.

She crossed her arms, stepping between Henderson and these men. “Who are you?”

The tall blond one spoke, “Special Agents Walker and Forest, Ms. Lane, and the man with the camera Special Agent Filben. Thank you for your assistance in this matter, Ma’am, but please…”

Lois held her ground. “Let me see your IDs.”

“Excuse me,” the shorter man with red hair asked.

“IDs. Identification. Badges. I’ve dealt with men who’ve impersonated the FBI before, and they turned out to want Superman dead, so now I don’t trust the lot of you,” Lois explained. Not that she, as a reporter, had trusted many of them prior to that. “Show me that you are who you say you are, and then I’ll step away and let you do your job.”

The men exchanged an expression she knew well from her many years of trying to break into the ol’ boys’ network. Translation: We’ve got a crazy broad here.

“You’re losing points by the second,” she continued, tapping her foot.

“Ms. Lane, you are here at our invitation,” Special Agent Forest said.

“No. I’m here as a guest of the MPD,” she corrected.

“And they’re here at our invitation as well, Ms. Lane,” Special Agent Forest said, confirming her coin toss theory from earlier. “Due to his tampering with EPRAD’s computers with the Nightfall Virus and thus endangering the world, Mr. Luthor broke numerous federal laws and that’s just for that one event. Therefore, Luthor’s penthouse and LexCorp office is now our crime scene, which is off limits to reporters, especially one who had been engaged to marry the biggest criminal this country has seen since Capone. Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Lane, but you can now go.”

Lois heard Henderson emit a soft groan from behind her. She could only imagine the facial expression that went with it.

“Shut the vault door, Inspector Henderson,” she said. “We’ve been given our walking papers. You heard them. They don’t need us. They can figure out the combo to Luthor’s secret vault all on their own, back at their labs in DC, over the course of the next few days.” She reached back and set her hand on the door of the vault, about to press it closed, in case Henderson got cold feet.

Special Agent Walker stepped forward with his hands outstretched as if that would stop her. Naïve man. “Hold on,” he said. Keeping one hand outstretched towards Lois, he reached into his jacket with the other and produced his identification card.

“See. That wasn’t too hard, boys, was it?” Lois said snarkily at Special Agent Forest, before taking Walker’s ID. She studied it for a minute, and then handed it back. She turned and waited for Forest to do the same. Reluctantly, he followed suit. “I guess they’re on the level, Henderson.”

“I warned you,” she heard Henderson mutter under his breath.

Isn’t he sweet?

“Just for your information, Agents, you will have to carry me out of here to get me to leave,” Lois said, refusing to budge. “I’ve been investigating Lex Luthor for months and had a deal with the MPD granting me access on any major finds regarding his arrest, especially since it was due to my investigation that you found out that Nightfall was a hoax to begin with.”

“Is this true?” Special Agent Forest demanded to Inspector Henderson.

Henderson rubbed his forehead as if this room was giving him a headache. “It was due to Ms. Lane that we became apprised of the Nightfall Virus, yes.”

“No, that you granted her access?” Forest asked.

Lois threw up her free hand, the other remaining on the cracked safe door. “I can still shut this vault. Only I know the code.”

Special Agent Walker pulled back his partner and whispered something to him. Forest didn’t seem happy, but relented. Apparently, these two had the good cop / bad cop routine down pat. “We will let Ms. Lane remain for the opening of Luthor’s vault as long as she stays out of our way,” the blond agent finally said.

“And quiet!” Forest added.

“Good luck with that,” Henderson mumbled behind a cough.

Lois glared at him. “How’s that sore throat, Inspector? Still bothering you? Perhaps you should suck on a lemon. I hear they’re full of vitamin C.”

“Ms. Lane, your hand?” Henderson said with a nod towards her hand still resting on the door to the vault. “I’d really rather not stick my hand inside with your palm there. I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, but…” The ‘I don’t’ hung in the air.

“Fine!” Lois snapped, removing her hand from Luthor’s vault, so Henderson and the Special Agents could open it safely.

Inside the vault were stacks and stacks of money. Big surprise. A notebook or two, which the Feds confiscated before Henderson could look inside. Lois didn’t even get to touch them. Some computer disks. Again, no way to know what was on them, and she doubted Special Agents Walker or Forest would inform her once they found out. That meant that she had to continue to be nice to Henderson so that he might tell her should he ever find out. Oh, joy.

Henderson, then, pulled out an ornate metal box, and Lois got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He brought the box into the bright light of Luthor’s office before opening it. Inside were two sizeable chunks of crystal, one red and one green.

Forest’s mouth gaped. “Is that what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a ruby and an emerald, then ‘yes’,” Henderson said, shooting a glance at Lois not to correct him. “Doesn’t this look like the same stones Luthor used to create that watch he gave you at Christmas, Ms. Lane?”

He knew. Henderson knew that those rocks weren’t rubies or emeralds, just as well as she did. That meant he knew that the watch Luthor had made for her was also made from Kryptonite. The watch that had been found on the toe of one amnesiac Clark Kent, during the time of Nightfall while Superman was missing.

He certainly seemed to suspect that this was Kryptonite. Was that why he brought the box into this room? So the faint glow wouldn’t be as noticeable in the sunny room? Did he wonder as she did, if Superman would react the same to the red Kryptonite as he did to the green?

Did Inspector Henderson know that Clark Kent was Superman?

Forest pulled the green one out of the box, distracting Lois from this thought. It had a gold chain attached. “It looks as if he was going to give this one to you as a wedding present.”

That wouldn’t have surprised her one jot after what she saw upstairs.

The agent shook his head and set it back into the box. “Hideous piece if you ask me. It hasn’t even been cut or polished.”

Lois shrugged. “You know the ultra rich. They have the gaudiest taste.” That headboard upstairs would confirm that theory, if nothing else did.

“Guys?” said the ever-quiet Special Agent in charge of photography from behind them. Lois had forgotten his name. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Special Agent Walker stuck his big head in front of the safe, essentially blocking anyone else from seeing anything. He turned to the photographer. “Did you get this already, Filben?”

The man nodded.

Walker removed something from the vault and held it up before his face.

Lois gasped.

“Oh, that’s sick,” Forest said, disgust dripping from his voice, before turning to face Lois. “What did he need that for, if he was going to marry the real deal?”

She didn’t answer as she continued to stare at the mask of her face. Why would Luthor have created a Halloween mask of her face, she had no idea. Her mind raced back up to that bed with its roses and headboard. A chill dripped down her spine. It felt as if she had been dipped in liquid nitrogen.

Nobody had seen Clark since Superman rescued Denny from the fire two days earlier. It meant that he had been Luthor’s prisoner for at least twenty-four hours. The horrible possibilities racing through her mind were endless.

Lois recalled how Clark had stepped away from her as she had approached him. How her touch had made him stiffen with discomfort. How his words of love, which she was sure had once been genuine, had sounded forced as if he was having trouble believing what he was saying. Was this the true reason he had needed to get away from her? Did he doubt her fidelity? Had Luthor made Clark doubt her love?

This ember ignited into a lava flow of fury. Luthor had better be dancing in the fires of hell or she would hunt down his soul and take him there herself.

“Ms. Lane?” Henderson said softly. “Have you seen enough?”

Lois nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She had seen more than enough to keep her from being able to hold down any food for the rest of the day.

“Then why don’t we…” Henderson said, holding out a hand towards the door. “There is still the matter of those follow up questions, I need to ask.”

She had plenty of questions for the inspector as well.

“Don’t forget to send our office a transcript for our records,” Walker said, dismissing them. Either the FBI considered the information Lois had to give Henderson of little importance or it lacked a certain urgency since their main suspect was currently residing in jars at the morgue.

As Lois turned towards the door, she noticed that the wall opposite Luthor’s desk was rotated open as his hidden room was. Had the wall been like that earlier when they had entered? No, she would have noticed it. It must have been another of the billionaire’s secret rooms. She guessed that was where the Feds had been hiding when she and Henderson had entered the office. No wonder they seemed to appear out of nowhere. She pressed her lips together. She expected someone like Luthor to spy on her, but her own government?

Instead of heading out the door, Lois peered into this new secret room. It was nondescript and completely undecorated. It had a small couch, a card table, and several chairs. There were no pictures on the wall, no windows, and no door. Well, no typical door. It had the moveable wall, and it had a door that seemed to operate by keycard and numerical key. She had seen a door like it before.

“Where does this elevator lead?” she asked.

“We assume the wine cellar,” Henderson replied. “Lex Luthor came through this wall before he jumped. We found the key card in his tuxedo pants pocket, but it’s damaged and we don’t have his pass code.”

“With numerical codes needed for almost every aspect of his life, I wonder how Luthor was able to keep them all straight in his head.”

Henderson glanced at her with hope. “Perhaps it’s the same code as the vault.”

Lois shook her head. “He wouldn’t be that short sighted.”

“No, no, I guess he wouldn’t have been,” the inspector said with a frown. He lifted his hand indicating the door, which led to the penthouse living room.

“Do us a favor, Ms. Lane, and stay in town,” Special Agent Forest called to her as they left.

Just what she needed, another man telling her what to do and where she could go. She muttered a word describing the agent that she wouldn’t have dared to use in Clark’s presence.

“Why do you think that elevator went to Luthor’s wine cellar?” Lois asked Henderson as they started up the stairs to the penthouse’s main door and elevator.

“Catherine said she snuck into his private parking garage yesterday morning to try to gain entrance into the building for the wedding. She saw a similar set up in the back of his wine cellar,” Henderson explained. “She saw Luthor go past and enter the wine cellar. Shortly after she had managed to find a stairway upstairs to the lobby, he jumped off his balcony. Therefore, he must have taken the elevator from the wine cellar up here.”

No. That wasn’t right. Lois closed her eyes, pausing on the stairs and trying to get her bearings straight. “But that elevator…” Her eyes flashed open.

“That elevator what, Ms. Lane?”

“He took me down to see his wine cellar once,” Lois said slowly. “We took the elevator under these stairs…” She pointed underneath them. “— which let out in his private parking garage.”

“So, he has several elevators leading to different areas of the same floor, and several entrances to his wine cellar. He’s… was a billionaire. The rich are known to be extravagant.”

That was an understatement when applied to Luthor. “Perhaps you could use Mrs. Cox’s keycard and password,” she suggested, continuing up the stairs. Henderson had already implied that Luthor’s former secretary was assisting them.

“She said that she didn’t know about either elevator,” he replied. “In fact, she was so infuriated at her boss for not telling her about them that she gave us an inventory of what she had seen in that safe room before it had been incinerated.” He grinned. “An inventory she previous had no knowledge of.”

They went down in the main penthouse elevator in silence.

“We also took the elevator in the wine cellar, but it didn’t go up,” Lois finally admitted, knowing she should have probably mentioned Luthor’s bunker the previous day when the police were searching for the man.

“Did it go down to his bomb shelter?” Henderson probed. After seeing what must have been a startled expression on her face, he continued, “Catherine said you mentioned to her that he had one.”

Well, weren’t Cat and the inspector chummy all of a sudden? “A whole self-sustaining bunker. Food and supplies to last two hundred people three years. It’s five hundred meters below Metropolis.”

“If that’s true, why did he go to his penthouse and jump to his death?” Henderson asked, his brow furrowing.

She brushed the front of her remembering the splatter his death caused. Her stomach churned. Lois’s hand rose to her mouth to try to hide the fact that she felt nauseated. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

Lex Luthor’s skydive the previous day was completely out of character. He was a fighter, who took risks. If he had had a means to get out alive, he would have taken it. He had to have known that Superman wouldn’t be able to rescue him, and even if he had, Luthor would now be in prison. So, why hadn’t Luthor run?

They stepped out of Lex Tower and into the Plaza as this thought struck her. Before she had time to consider it, the roar from a crowd of reporters from LNN to Leo Nunk, the National Inquisitor’s chief trash monger, drew her attention. They burst into action, yelling questions at her and sticking microphones in her face. Someone must have leaked her visit to Lex Luthor’s penthouse apartment.

Henderson held up his arm and shielded her as best he could as he led her to his sedan. Flashbulbs turned the already bright day blinding, but the police inspector somehow managed to get them through the throng. Someone had the audacity to throw a tomato at her. It missed her, but hit the top of the car, splattering its red guts across her face.

“Are you okay?” Henderson asked when she had shut her door and faced him.

“Just a little tomato juice in my eye. I’ll survive,” Lois replied in what even to her sounded like a wavering voice. To Lois, it wasn’t a little something in her eye. Her memory flashed to being covered in Luthor’s blood the day before. She swallowed hard, trying to hold down the bile in her stomach.

Some people had a sick sense of humor. Some reporters would do anything for a photo.

Lois reached into her pocket for a tissue. Instead, she felt that little piece of paper she had found under Luthor’s desk. She pulled it out.

It was the fortune the billionaire had received when they had ordered out Chinese food that one night after she realized that her mother had disappeared.

Lois took hold of the handle of the car door as it felt as if her world was spinning. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm the panic building within her.

She found herself in a long hallway. Behind her was an open door, apparently where she had just left. She needed to escape. They were coming for her and if they caught her, Lois knew she would end up dead. The first door, she opened and closed quickly as it was only a bathroom. Next, she tried the middle door, but it was locked. In her other hand, she found a large ring of keys. She tried first one key and then another and another and another. Finally, she found one that fit. She turned the lock and opened the door.

On the other side of the door, Lois found an ornately furnished living room, which didn’t seem to have another exit. She ran to the windows, but saw that they were all barred.

“You’re not going to find a way out,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Lois spun around and found herself facing Lex Luthor.

“Lex?!” she sputtered. “You’re dead!”

Luthor chuckled. “Well, no.” He took her arm and led her over to the sofa to sit down. “Funny story actually…”

She scooted further away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You see,” Luthor said with a crocodile smile. “I wasn’t with you the night you got caught by the terrorists at Daily Planet. That wasn’t me.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Not you?”

“No, not me.” He leaned closer and whispered, “That was my clone; an expensive bit of science that…” He shook his head in disappointment at its demise.

Henderson braked suddenly to avoid a Metro cabbie, and Lois found herself back in the police cruiser, feeling even more so that she was about to throw up.

“Clone,” Lois whispered.

“Excuse me?” Henderson asked with a quick glance towards her.

“Home, please, Inspector. I don’t feel well,” she said, raising her hand to her mouth again.

“When we get there, I’ll call S.T.A.R. Labs and see if they have that blood work completed. Who knows what that man had floating around in his blood?” He grimaced.

“Ask them to check for foreign DNA,” she said.

“What?” Henderson said, taking his eyes off the road once more to look at her.

She held out the scrap of paper in her hand. “‘The greatest glory is not in never falling,’” she read aloud. “‘— but rising every time we fall.’”

His brow furrowed. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“It’s Confucius,” Lois explained. “It means, Lex Luthor isn’t dead.”

**********
Vegas, Man!
**********

“That was the longest two and half hours I’ve ever spent,” Jimmy said with a grin as they exited the gangplank and entered the Las Vegas airport.

Clark couldn’t agree more, but he also knew his friend was making a joke about the time difference. It was already six thirty in Metropolis. He hoped that meant that Lois was home. He nodded towards a bank of phones. “I’m going to call Lois,” he said.

“Man, you are so whipped,” Jimmy said.

“Being in love doesn’t make you ‘whipped’, Jimmy,” Clark explained, dipping into his pocket for change.

“Calling her the instant we get off the plane does,” Jimmy retorted with a knowing look.

“At least, I have someone,” Clark said, counting out his coins and hoping that was still true. “Do you have any quarters?”

“Why don’t you just call her from our hotel room?” Jimmy asked, looking around. He grabbed Clark’s shoulder. “Oh, my God! Look at that, CK! They have slot machines at the airport.”

“The quickest path to ruin is through one of those machines,” Clark said. “I once had a foster dad who was into gambling. There were some nights when we lived on bread and water to feed his addiction. Moderation is the key.”

“Fine,” Jimmy grumbled, reaching into his backpack and dropping a roll of quarters on the phone booth shelf. “Then hold on to my coins, CK, to keep me from temptation while I go hit the head.” He left his backpack at Clark’s feet and wandered off towards the restroom, muttering, “Maybe I should have brought Jimbo.”

Clark felt bad for ruining Jimmy’s trip, but he felt worse about Lois and what she must have gone through. He put a couple of dollars’ worth of quarters into the machine and listened as Lois’s phone rang until the machine answered. Darn! He was hoping to speak to her directly. He didn’t have any idea what kind of message to leave on her machine.

“Um… Hello, Lois. It’s Clark. Look, I’m sorry about…”

“Hello?” a breathless voice said into his ear. “Clark?”

“Oh, Lois,” Clark said, melting at the sound of her voice speaking his name. “I thought I missed you.”

“No, just screening calls. You won’t believe what annoying pests other reporters can be,” she said. Then, she must have realized how ironic her words were and laughed. Clark swore the sound gave him more strength than an hour spent in the sun. “Shoe’s on the other foot, and it’s a pain in the…” She coughed. “I’m sure you didn’t call to hear me gripe about my career path.”

“I wanted to apologize for how I acted this morning…” he started.

“Don’t think anything about it, Clark,” she insisted. “If anyone deserves a day off every once and while, it’s you.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, wondering for a second if he had dialed the correct number after all. “Um… about that, I’m coming back tonight and…”

“What?” she gasped. “Tonight? I mean, don’t be ridiculous, Chuck. You must be exhausted. I know I’m exhausted, and if you head back tonight, you’ll get in after midnight... Anyway, I’m headed over to my mom’s in a few minutes to get away from those darn reporters.” She laughed again, only this time it sounded forced. “So, I won’t even be here.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “That must have been pretty traumatic, what you two went through yesterday. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Lois said, the faux cheeriness was gone from her voice. “I’ll admit that was hard. The truth is I don’t think my mom should be alone right now. She was sedated last night, but she won’t be tonight. She just got back from rehab – the one good thing… Not that he did any good, the bastard… anyway, I don’t want her to fall off the wagon, because of this.”

“I understand,” Clark replied. “I didn’t know, Lois. Please believe me. If I had known what had happened, I never would have stepped on the…”

“Stop it, Clark. I’m a grown woman and can take care of myself. It was horrible, I’ll grant you that, but if I let every little setback life threw at me hold me back, I’d never have made it this far. I can and probably will survive worse. Right now, you need to take care of you. Get your boatload of sunshine, have a good time with Jimmy, and relax.”

He couldn’t have understood her correctly. “How mad are you?”

“I was fine, but the more you keep yammering on about how sorry you are the more ticked off I’m getting,” she snapped. “If you want to know the truth, even if you had invited me to go to Vegas, I couldn’t have gone. The FBI doesn’t want me to leave town, because I’m too important to their case or something.”

Or something. He knew Lois was hiding something from him. “I can take the first flight out tomorrow morning, Lois. I can be home by early afternoon...”

“I’ve got that EPRAD interview tomorrow afternoon, Clark. That’ll take me hours. Frankly, I’m pretty much booked up solid tomorrow with stuff I need to do to clean up the mess here. You might as well stay there and concentrate on getting better. I’ll see you on Tuesday as scheduled.”

Clark’s jaw dropped. Before he could say anything else, the operator told him to deposit several dollars in coins for more time. “Hey, Lois, I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I heard. Where are you?” she asked.

“The airport.”

“Oh, Clark.” Her scold felt like a caress. “I miss you, too. Don’t forget to call back with the room number of your hotel. I’ll call you at nine o’clock your time.”

“Lois, that’s midnight in Metropolis,” Clark reminded her.

“Oh. Right… um… Well, I’ll talk to you later,” she said. “We’ll figure something out.”

The operator told Clark he had only fifteen seconds left.

“I love you, Lois,” he said, not wanting to fail to get it said.

“I love you, too, Clark,” she said. “Have a…”

The call disconnected, cutting her off. Clark sighed and hung up the receiver. He wished he had his powers so he could fly back to Metropolis just to see her face. On the other hand, if he had his abilities, he wouldn’t be here.

Lois missed him and she loved him. Even without powers, everything felt right in his world again.

“Well, what’s the verdict, CK?” Jimmy said, picking up his backpack. “Are you staying or going?”

Clark returned what remained of his friend’s roll of quarters. “So, do you want your fifty dollars in coin or bills?”

***End of Part 184***

Part 185

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