Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Airport - Part 7 of 32

Part Seven

Two days later Lois and Clark were standing in front of the imposing steel and glass edifice which is LexCorp Tower; nerve center of the Luthor Empire as well as home to its owner and his wife. Each was dressed in their most tailored and professional attire; Lois wore a flattering black dress with white piping, while Clark looked poised and polished in another one of his new suits.

<That’s the fourth one I’ve seen, he must have raided his bank account, but who cares? Dark gray looks great on him, the effect is, if truth be told, quite … satisfying to my eyes.> Forcefully turning her mind back to the job at hand, Lois craned her neck to look up at the impressive building before them; it was listed in tour brochures as the tallest building in Metropolis.

“Oh, I wish she hadn’t asked us to come so early! Seven o’clock in the morning for an interview? There wasn’t even time to grab a latte and muffin.” Lois sighed.

“Nervous? It is awfully early to do an interview on an empty stomach.” Clark asked

“Me? Why? After all you’re taking point on this interview, if you get stuck, don’t look to me for any help. Maybe, if she backs you up against the wall James’ questions might help!”
Steadfastly refusing to rise to the bait he responded diplomatically, “Listen, we can make this into a terrific interview. For all the research I’ve done, it only scratches the surface. I want to learn from the best and for my money, that’s you. Let’s share the questions Lois, after all she did invite both of us.”

With those words the fight seemed to ebb from Lois’ small frame, she looked over at her partner, shrugged and said, “Deal. I get to ask the first question.”

Relieved they seem to be getting along, Clark grumbled good-naturedly, “Typical.”

The partners walked across the park like plaza and entered the skyscraper, both eager to get on with the job.

After passing through a security check in the lobby, the duo were given ID badges and escorted to a private elevator, which the guard operated with a keycard. He said tersely. “The elevator only stops at the penthouse it should take just under a minute for you to get there.”

The gleaming steel doors closed and their stomachs dropped as the elevator car whisked them to the penthouse floor.

“Wow! We should get one of these for the Planet!” Clark commented.
Lois shook her head, “Nyahh, I like our cranky old elevator better, it’s has personality!”

Simultaneously, bubbles of laughter escaped from their lips and the final vestiges of distrust, resentment and anger vanished from them both.

They entered an extravagantly appointed foyer, filled with priceless Renaissance art. Clark noted works of several lesser known painters who perfected their artisan’s craft in the renowned city-state of Florence during the time of Da Vinci. He hoped the Luthors were displaying excellent reproductions - not originals. The insurance premiums on a single painting would easily cover his salary for a year.

A tall, solemn man with slightly stooped shoulders, gray hair and a cultured British accent showed them into what Clark guessed was the ‘living room’. It was perfectly decorated in rich deep shades of scarlet with touches of gold. Hanging on the walls were several paintings and flanking the massive bookshelf groaning with leather bound first editions were display cases of ancient swords. If he remembered correctly, one was a wicked looking katana. The kind of lethal weapon used in close combat. Standing up from where she was sitting on a large couch covered with rich red damask, Arianna welcomed them into her home.

“Mr. Kent and Miss Lane, please make yourselves comfortable. Can Nigel bring some refreshments? I took the liberty of asking our chef to bake some delightful blueberry scones with clotted cream this morning. We also have an excellent selection of British teas.”
Clark smiled and said, “Thank you, Earl Grey with a teaspoon of honey.”

Lois said, “Afternoon Ceylon, with sweet and low – if you have it.”
Arianna nodded to Nigel who disappeared through a door.

“Your home décor is not what I expected.” Clark said, trying to get the conversation started.

“Mr. Kent, my husband prefers this room; it suits his personality, but not mine. Now that we have all met, let’s go someplace where we can be more relaxed.” She walked through a door and down a corridor. The room they entered was as calming as the previous space was jarring. The large open living area was separated by specific furniture arrangements. Everything was tied together by the subdued palette of warm grays and lavenders, accented with butter yellows. On the sofa table directly behind where Arianna sat was a large mauve vase filled with fresh cut yellow and white roses, their fragile scent filled the room.

“This is lovely!” Lois exclaimed.

“Thank you. I’m glad my sitting room meets with your approval Miss Lane. As you can see my husband and I are attracted by very different things. He enjoys putting people on their guard, while I choose for any guest who enters my home should be set at their ease. The interior decorator used the reflective hues of the surrounding city buildings at dusk as the inspiration for the color palette. Asian antiques and art which I picked from my travels further the soothing mood.”

Before Arianna could say anymore, Nigel arrived with the silver tea service. He handed around steaming cups of tea, bowed and departed the room as noiselessly as he had entered.

Taking the delicate china cup in her hand, Arianna sipped it, smiled and said, “Ah, now let us begin shall we?”

Lois started with her much desired first question, “Mrs. Luthor, before marrying Mr. Luthor you had a thriving practice in Boston. Has it been easy giving up the profession you worked so hard to build?”

Arianna put the cup down, thought for a moment and said, “If you met the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, would giving up a career matter as long as you were together?”

“I’m the one asking the question.” Lois responded in a sweet tone. She was determined to get her subject to answer, no way was this going to be a puff piece.

But Mrs. Luthor was adept at playing this game and responded. “Oh come now, we are both career women, isn’t it a sacrifice to give up something cherished? Being a psychiatrist was something important to me, but my husband needed me by his side. It was a simple decision really. Someday, if you are lucky, the same choice might come your way.”

Clark, sensing the interview was getting out of control before it began, interrupted Lois before she could reply and said, “Our readers are curious about what encouraged you to leave England behind and move to America.”

“There were a number of opportunities here. Life in London did not turn out as I planned. When my mentor, Dr. Julian Tarnower, offered a chance to practice with him in Boston, I decided to accept. We managed to accomplish quite a bit of good, helping our patients overcome their disorders. Although I must say, some of the cases were quite challenging.”

The interview continued in much the same manner, Lois asked supplemental questions, some Arianna answered with refreshing candor, others she pushed aside or redirected. It took all of Clark’s charm and tact to draw her out and keep the interview informative and entertaining.

Before any of them realized it, the sixty minutes she granted them had elapsed.

“Mrs. Luthor this has been a candid interview, my partner and I appreciate the opportunity very much.”

“Yes, it was eye-opening,” Lois said, “I just have one final question; what led you on the path to being such philanthropists? I believe everything started with the sale of a few Picassos to help finance major changes in some of the city’s orphanages?”

Arianna smiled; obviously the question had pleased her. “You remember that? It had to have been three years ago at least.”

“More like two and a half. It was the day of the blizzard that paralyzed the city. I was at Larkin Airport, you and your husband were being trailed by paparazzi, the announcement had not been made official yet….”

“Somehow our plans had been leaked to the Metropolis Star. Yes, Miss Lane, the incident does come to mind. Fortunately, Lex and I were able to make the sale without interference and those poor unfortunate children reaped the benefits. Happily, we did not suffer the inconvenience many travelers had to endure that day.” Arianna smiled as if asking forgiveness for not being troubled.

<Inconvenience!> Lois thought angrily. <Inconveniences like no food, heat and sanitary conditions that were frightening. It was more than a day!> But her professional side won out and she managed to keep silent.

Clark.

Why did his name unexpectedly pop into her head? A memory of him wearing gray pants and shirt flashed in her mind’s eye. Was he at the airport? No. The snow had effectively shut off all access to and from the airport. By the end of those cold, miserable days, she knew the faces of most of her fellow stranded travelers. Clark’s handsome visage – even two and a half years later - would have stood out. Something else came into her mind, but just as quickly it vanished.

Arianna’s voice broke into her musings. “In any case Miss Lane, you could say that was the start of our charitable efforts, which have increased ever since.” She made a show of looking at her watch, stood and shook both their hands. “It has been a very great pleasure; I can’t remember the last time an interview flew by so quickly.” She turned to Clark and presented him with her most sincere smile. “Mr. Kent, your method of interviewing is a breath of fresh air, the world of print journalism is the richer for having such a thoughtful member. After enduring newspaper hacks like Linda King, it is refreshing to have a conversation with a gentleman.” She turned to Lois and said in the sweetest manner possible, “Miss Lane, you could learn a great deal from your colleague. Lex and I would have gladly granted an interview together long ago, but he appreciates subtlety, which your writing sadly lacks. Perhaps someday we shall, as long as Mr. Kent is your partner. May you both have a pleasant day, Nigel will show you out.” With those words, Arianna exited the room.

Lois’ jaw dropped in shock, than closed with an audible click.

***

“Imagine the nerve of that … that woman, telling me how to write an article!”

Clark had listened to her rail from the time they stepped onto the elevator until they entered the lobby. He was about to tell her to simmer down when her babble abruptly ceased and she grabbed his arm and pulled him over to a magazine kiosk.

She hissed, “It’s Gregory Daae! What’s he doing here? Especially since Lex is out of the building. I can’t envision someone like him talking to an underling.”

Her partner shrugged, “Probably visiting LNN, after all, this is LexCorp headquarters.”

“Shows how much you know, Clark. LNN is ten blocks away.” Her voice fell silent as they both watched him enter the Penthouse express elevator without checking in at the security desk.

“Well look at that, trouble in Paradise?” Lois said with a smirk.

“How does anyone jump from visiting, to Daae having an affair with Arianna?” He asked in a whisper.

“Easy. He’s having an affair with Arianna.” His partner answered him with authority.

“That is the trouble with you; a highly suspicious nature.” Clark said playfully shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, that ‘suspicious nature’ has netted me …”

“… two Kerth awards.” He finished her oft repeated quote with an exaggerated sigh.

“No, buster! Three! Now don’t you forget it!” Lois fired back, sensing the humor in Clark’s words.

He shrugged again; the banter would have almost been comical if the subject were not so serious. Once Daae had vanished into the elevator they exited the lobby, back out to a dazzlingly bright spring morning.
Back at the Planet, they compared their rough notes on the interview; each merging their writing styles on the article to make a complete whole. Suddenly, Lois’ phone rang and she answered quickly.

{Lane! How’s about lunch? It’s been a long time.}

“Bobby! What’s the problem? All other reporters with money have run dry?”

{Hey is that anyway to talk to your favorite snitch? Let’s get together, your uncle’s place. Today?}

She examined her notes, looked over at her partner and noticed his desk was empty. <Perfect. Lana must have swooped in and bagged him for lunch … again. Oh well, we are at a good place and I could use a decent salad. Those blueberry scones were delicious, but that was hours ago.>

“Yeah, Bobby it has been awhile. Give me twenty minutes.”

***

Not long afterwards, Lois found herself at Café Americana meeting with Bobby Bigmouth, who between bites of fish extolled the merits of her partner. “Kent’s a stand-up guy. You couldn’t do for a better partner.”

“A partner on a permanent basis is something I don’t want to deal with. Eduardo is the only one I could tolerate and since he’s in Europe on assignment for Perry, Kansas, the rookie has been dumped on me.” Lois stated flatly, but her tone was not one of complaint.

“Yeah, but keep an open mind, I’ve been reading the stuff youse have been writing. That rookie has got style!”

“How would you know that?” Lois asked with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you only read the Food Section.”

“Hey Lois, didn’t I tell ya? The Daily Planet is my favorite newspaper! Besides, I gave him a couple of tips. He paid for them by poppin’ for pizza!”

She gestured to the meal in front of him, “Pizza! This Tilapia lunch is better than pizza!”

“Yeah, but this is gourmet pizza! He refuses to tell me which restaurant in Metropolis. But the crust is homemade. For that kinda meal, I’d spill my gut to The Metropolis Star … and I hate that rag!”

“But we have an arrangement; if the material is really big, I get first crack at it.”

He took a savage bite of fish, chewed for so long Lois was about to scream from impatience and then he said, “Uh, there’s been a slight modification; I give tips to you and sometimes Kent. Anybody else has to pay double. However … if there was a serious partnership, you guys wouldn’t have to share me…”

Lois looked up from her plate and glared at him. “Buster, you are getting this lunch because I owe you big time. Don’t push it.”
Bobby glared back, indicating he was not afraid of Mad Dog Lane and then chuckled, “See, that’s what I like about Kent, he’s got a sense of humor!”

She rolled her eyes and dug into the chilled asparagus salad. If Kansas had gotten to Bobby, then maybe, just maybe, he might be the partner for her.

***

As Lois made her way through the crowded streets of midtown Metropolis back to the office, Bobby’s words echoed through her mind on a continuous loop, much as she was loath to admit it, having Kansas lead up the interview this morning made perfectly good sense. Arianna probably would have ended the session early if Lois had handled the interview in her usual take-no-prisoners style. Sometimes honey was much more attractive than vinegar. She also had to admit her anger after the White Orchid Ball was more because he landed the meeting with Arianna by using diplomacy and not a battering ram.

Her behavior at the White Orchid Ball had been far too aggressive and downright rude. She should have known better than to speak to Arianna in such a manner, especially on her own home ground. Arianna, a woman surrounded by paparazzi, when in public, had no problem setting straight a reporter who did not respect her. Lois didn't like it, but there it was. Clark would probably have gotten the same result if he hadn't miraculously come up with a mutual acquaintance to talk about. Once Arianna became comfortable with him, she suggested separate interviews, something Lois should have thought of, which was probably the best solution to the scheduling problem a busy couple like the Luthors would have. She could have convinced Perry to hold the story for at least a week, until they had managed to interview Lex, and then merged the two discussions into one article.

Looking back, she vividly remembered that Claude employed flattery and thinly veiled backdoor tactics to get what he wanted. In this case and with life in general Clark did neither. Sadly, Lois at the time did not permit a little thing like facts to get in the way of her anger. Her behavior towards him had been shallow and unkind. She admitted begrudgingly that it had been fun interviewing Arianna together. Kansas’ gentle Midwestern charm had put the reserved British woman at ease long enough for both of them to ask the tough questions without upsetting her. Well, at least Clark didn’t upset her. Who knows, maybe there might be something to this partnership after all … on a limited basis.

Even before Lois exited the elevator she could hear loud voices through the car doors. When they snapped open she stepped into a scene of controlled chaos. The sounds emanating from the newsroom floor seemed more like an animal howling in dismay than voices. Several members of the Planet’s fledgling IT department were sitting at the reporters’ desks working on the computers – obviously in a state of panic. The monitors did not display text or even the Planet’s logo, just long lines of green letters scrolling vertically down the screen. Apparently, all of the computers in the building had been rendered useless.

One guy, Lois remembered his name was Isaac, said his voice rising above the fray, “We should have listened to him and installed that virus killer program.”

“Maybe Mr. Olsen will listen to him now.” Jack snarled.

“What’s the point of hiring the best, if you won’t follow through on his recommendations?” The young man was just sitting down at her desk and looking at the computer monitor.

As Lois stepped to the railing she was now truly concerned, if the crisis was so bad that IT had to pull Jack into the fray, they were in deep trouble. She looked down to see him at her desk, typing intensely.

“Jack! What’s going on? What’s that alphabet soup crawling on the monitors?” Lois shouted as she ran down the ramp. “My story had better not be gone!”

Jack looked up, with a harassed expression on his young face. “The slang term is ‘hex characters’ whenever they appear on a monitor screen that’s not good. No, I managed to save all the work from this morning. But please tell me all your story files were saved on a floppy disk!” Jack said without looking at her.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Of course, I save everything! After the fiasco with Claude all of my files are backed up daily.”

He spared her a quick glance, “Good, ‘cause this particular virus is really nasty.”

“Virus?” Lois said frowning, “what virus?”

Just then the elevator doors opened, Lois wouldn’t have paid any attention, but she heard Isaac say, “Finally, he’s here!” She turned to see a medium built, athletic man in his late thirties walking down the ramp with precise, almost military precision. He moved towards Lois and Jack, nodded to her and placing a reassuring hand on Jack’s shoulder and said. “Thanks son, let me take things from here.”

Lois watched with shock and surprise when the youngster took a deep breath in relief, pushed back from the desk, relinquished the chair and said in a respectful tone he only used around Perry, “It’s all yours, sir.”

<Sir?> She thought. <Whois this guy?>

The gentleman was wearing jeans, a definite no-no for Perry, they were not allowed on the news floor. He must have been called in from outside. She stepped back as other techs surrounded her desk. The newcomer spoke, his voice was calm and reassuring, almost like a surgeon talking to anxious parents before entering an operating room.

“I take it you went through the usual protocols?” He turned and searching the IT staff, fixed his eyes on Isaac.

“Yeah, we all did.” Isaac said from behind Lois. The chaotic atmosphere from a few moments ago settled down, all attention was now firmly focused on the technician sitting at Lois’ desk. At that moment Perry barreled over and said, “Great shades of the King! What are you guys doing, standing around? We’ve got a paper to get out and no computers to do it! Who is this guy?”

The technician stood up and said, “I apologize for being so late getting here Mr. White. I’m Ken Janney, the new head of the IT department. Mr. Olsen hired me a week ago, but I wasn’t supposed to start until next Monday. I did stop in earlier this week and sent over some recommendations which hopefully we will follow through on very shortly. But currently the Daily Planet’s computer network is under attack from the AnnaK virus. It’s a pretty nasty customer and will take some extensive steps to correct.”

Perry looked about ready to shout, but remembering his blood pressure only said suspiciously, “What kind of steps?”

“That would necessitate taking the server off of the network to prevent further contamination and for clean up.”

Frowning, Perry said. “We have an evening edition to get out as well as the morning edition.”

“I am sorry Mr. White, but there’s more bad news. It would also require the techs to deal with each contaminated PC. As well as call into question the integrity of the files on the devices which is prompting the query about floppy backup.”

Perry threw his arms up and said, “Hell of a way to run a railroad. Ok, Mr. Janney, tell me what you need and I’ll make sure you get it.”

“Good, ‘cause this is going to take the rest of the day to fix. Even Mr. Olsen is helping, which only makes sense, since he designed the system. Don’t worry about the evening edition; there are a couple of computers in my office that aren’t hooked up to the internet, so they weren’t affected.” Ken turned back to Lois’ monitor checked something then turned around and spoke with the technicians. “Ok, guys once I isolate the problem your tasks will be working to decontaminate each computer, individually. Once I work out the protocol on this machine, I’ll let you know the process that you will follow. In the meantime, bring those two computers from my office and at least two more uninfected ones and set them up in the conference room.” There was a murmur of assents and the techs scattered to their tasks.

Lois needed someplace to work on the remains of the interview, after looking in the smaller conference room and seeing that the sports department had taken over, she quickly came to the realization that something different had to be done. Not allowing herself time to reconsider, she walked over to Clark’s desk and saw him banging furiously away … on a typewriter of all things, she said, “It’s about time you came back. What happened?”

His expression was one confusion, and then he said, “Oh, I had a craving for a mocha latte with a double shot of espresso and as I was coming back a traffic accident took place only a block away. Some guy got the passengers out of the vehicle before it exploded. I’m writing up the account for the evening edition right now.”

“That’s good. But compared to what we are working on it’s bread and butter stuff. Come on Kansas, after all the preparation to get this interview we might as well work on it and give it a little style! Since the IT department is trying to fix the servers, we can work with less distractions on the computer at my place, are you game?”

Clark swallowed and nodded, “Sure Lois, whatever you say.”

“Okay! Soon as you finish writing up that article, pack up your notes!” She turned back to him and said, “Kent, if you keep drinking lattes with all that sugar and fat, those gorgeous new suits are going to look really bad.”

He smiled, hearing the banter under the bark, “Life is short partner, gotta live it up!”

<That word! That word!> she thought.

***

As they walked out of the bullpen and began climbing the ramp she asked him. “Don’t you have to contact Lana or something? She always likes to know where you are.”

Clark shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed heavily, “Honestly Lois, she’s not like that. We are both pursuing our respective careers, which mean spending time with work colleagues.” For the sake of the newfound peace between them, he decided not to pursue that particular line of conversation.

It only took a few minutes for Lois to drive them to her apartment building which was situated on a quiet tree lined street not ten minutes away.

Once the front door was closed and securely locked behind them, she became acutely aware of Clark’s gentle, but extremely masculine presence. Suddenly, her spacious one bedroom apartment shrunk to the size of a small studio. <Oh stop!> A tiny voice yelled in her mind, <Its just Kansas, we are here to work.>

Clark took off his jacket and sat down on her soft, comfortable lemon yellow couch, searching for something to say to fill the suddenly awkward silence he said. “Your apartment is well decorated. I … I like the way your work area is separate from the rest of the living room.”

Lois had finished hanging up her coat, nodded and said, “Yeah, the desk, chair and bookshelf are all about work. But my couch, now that’s to relax on. Come on, we still need to finish merging our separate notes into one.” She started pulling papers from her briefcase. “This is a good amount of material to shape into an article. Despite being coy in some places, Arianna was really quite forthcoming with a lot of her answers.”

Before long they found themselves deep in the midst of their work. Clark stood up to stretch and then looked over her shoulder and noticed that Lois was writing about Daae coming to visit when Lex was not around.

“We don’t know why Daae was there! It’s a fact that can’t be included in this article”

“Why not? He was in the lobby and we both saw him enter the private penthouse elevator without checking in with the guards.”

“Come on Lois that would be irresponsible speculation! When did we start writing like reporters for The Metropolis Star?”

She fought the smile which threatened to spread across her lips. “Aha! Arianna got to you.”

“No. She didn’t get to me, and just because they are public figures does not mean we speak about their friendship as if they have something to hide. Everyone, even those two, deserves privacy. If they are having an affair it’ll surface soon enough. Leave the gossip stuff to Peggy Becker. Besides, Catherine would never ‘speculate’, that leads to lawsuits. We need to stick with the subject and nothing more.”

Lois cocked her eyebrow and was about to speak, then thought better of it. Apparently, the rookie had toughness after all. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m not Linda King. Look, we’re been working for awhile. I’ll make us some tea and sandwiches. Does tuna fish salad on Italian bread sound?”

“Tuna fish salad is fine. What kind of tea?” He asked.

“It’ll be a surprise. But don’t worry; it won’t be anything like what we have at the office, but it’s not as good as what we had this morning.”

He feigned a look of profound relief, “Thanks! Considering we were drinking tea at the Luthors, that particular brand of Earl Grey was disappointing.”

Minutes later, Lois handed him a sturdy mug of tea. He accepted it gratefully and inhaled the delicate aroma and then took a gentle sip. Sweet notes of flavors, two he identified as peach balanced with the taste of crisp Champagne danced merrily over his tongue.

“This is delicious, what is it?”

Lois’ voice carried in from the kitchen, “It’s a blend of jasmine, peach and champagne teas. A small specialty shop here in Metropolis makes it. As much as I like coffee, after a hard day at the bullpen, this is better than coffee and not as expensive – or addictive – as wine.”

Clark blew gently over the cup and then inhaled the wispy vapors of steam and exhaled deeply, “Ms. Lane, I have drank tea all over the world, this is one of the best to ever hit my taste buds.”

She smiled and chirped, “Good, I’m glad you like it! The sandwiches will be done in a minute.” She walked back to the kitchen and began assembling the ingredients; taking out Italian chibatta bread, fresh dill, parsley, mayonnaise, lettuce, one hardboiled egg, red cabbage and tomatoes from the fridge.

“Sure I can’t give you a hand?” He said.

“No, keep writing!” She grew silent while blending the ingredients into a mixing bowl. Clark glanced up to see her expertly slice the hard crusty bread; surprisingly Mad Dog Lane was no stranger in the kitchen.

“Yikes!”

He clamped down hard on his instinctive desire to fly straight into the air. Something furry had rubbed against his leg, scaring him witless.

“What’s wrong?” Lois called from the kitchen.

“Meow!” Came the noise from the floor. It was a large gray and white cat with beautiful blue eyes - blue eyes that were staring at Clark with equal parts curiosity and intense displeasure.

“What is that?” Clark said, trying to regain his composure.

“Oh, you’ve met Lady P.” Lois tried, but failed miserably to hide her amusement.

“What’s a Lady P and why is she looking at me like that?”

“Her full name is Lady Plushbottom. It’s simple; you’re parked on her favorite spot.”

Clark carefully moved over and let the feline jump into her ‘spot’.

“All the time we’ve worked together you never mentioned having a cat. There aren’t even pictures of her on your desk.”

Lois walked in from the kitchen and in each hand was a plate holding the most magnificent tuna sandwiches he had ever seen. “Well, I don’t have a boyfriend who sticks a large picture of himself on my desk.”

Clark ducked his head and took another sip of tea, “Point taken.”

Lois deciding to avoid conversation about Lana and continued, “Keeping my work life separate from my home life is something of an art form. The practice has come in very handy at times. Speaking of which, with the exception of Lana and your roommate Pete, I never hear you talk about a home life.”

“Oh well, yeah.” Clark fidgeted on the sofa. “My Dad died when I was fourteen and Mom lived a few years after that. I’m an only child. But there’s my Uncle Wayne and Aunt Mary, but they live in Kansas so…” His voice trailed off.

Lois suddenly felt equal parts shame and compassion for the man before her. True, her family sometimes gave her plenty of grief, but she did not dare contemplate life without them. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she flipped her long hair over her shoulder said in a gentle voice, “Clark, that sandwich was meant to be eaten, not stared at!”

He picked up the sandwich and bit into the crusty bread, his eyes swirled in utter delight. A mélange of different flavors and textures caressed his taste buds; mayonnaise, Italian flathead parsley, tomatoes, a hint of red cabbage, crunchy bits of carrots, fresh dill, shredded boiled eggs and of course tuna, finished the ensemble.

“Yum! This is great! Where did you learn to create such a sandwich?”

“College. It’s easier to eat a sandwich than make a complete meal, especially while studying for finals.” She daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin and said, “Eat fast Kansas, we’ve got work to do.”
Within two hours the interview article with Arianna Carlin-Luthor was complete. The time seemed to have flown by swiftly. Lois found it hard to imagine that what they were doing was actually work. It had been fun to bounce ideas and phrases off each other. It was close to dinnertime and she about to ask him if he wanted to go over plans for future assignments together when Clark’s cell phone rang.

Lois got up and removed the remains of their meal, Lady Plushbottom followed behind, meowing at the tip of her furry little lungs begging for tuna leftovers.

He could hear Lana over the phone, her voice ringing with excitement. {Clark!} Lana gasped.

Worried that something had gone terribly wrong, he restrained himself from flying out the window. “Lana, honey, what is it?”

{Oh, the best news possible! Meet me at the employee’s entrance to the museum, Daddy’s at a meeting and Mother is conducting a class.}

“Sure I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up the phone and turned to Lois.

“Listen, can we call it quits for now? Lana doesn’t have a car and it’s getting close to dinner, she’s probably hungry.”

Her evening plans were ruined, but she managed to hide most of the annoyance from her voice. “Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead, get Lana. See you tomorrow at the bullpen.”

Clark picked up his jacket, patted Lady Plushbottom on her head and departed. As he walked down the hallway he couldn’t help but notice there was something in Lois’ tone, something like regret, but he refused to concern himself with that now.

***

An hour later Clark and Lana were walking home from the Metro station, she was excitedly telling him about her plans. “This is such an opportunity. Daddy could have sent anyone, but I’m the one he trusts! Acquiring the Napoleon camp chair for the museum is going to firmly establish my reputation in certain circles.”

After giving her hand a tiny squeeze, Clark said, “I’m really proud of you honey, this is without a doubt something to celebrate! Pete’ll be glad to hear about it as well.”

Lana was thoughtful when she said, “Yes, this is wonderful! Imagine, three friends from the insignificant town of Smallville, Kansas doing so well!”

Clark said, “We have come a long way since then, haven’t we? But Smallville is hardly insignificant; after all it is the county seat!”
She let the humorous comment pass and said, “Absolutely! There is so much more for all of us to do! Pete as a surgeon, eventually you shall be writing award winning articles for the Planet. Who knows, someday you might make the transition to broadcast news.”

“Lana,” he said gently, “I’m a print journalist. Established newspapers like the Daily Planet and the Washington Post provide substance; who, what and why, broadcast news are fine, but there’s only so much the public can learn from a sixty second sound bite.”

It was the old argument, set on new grounds. A short, silence followed as they walked down the quiet street. She considered the Daily Planet to be a stepping stone in his career, no more. In her mind, working for network television, with all it financial perks was where he belonged. Whereas he wanted to make her understand, the Planet was where he wanted … no, needed to be.

Finally they reached Lana’s apartment building, the same one as her old college roommate, Chloe. Shortly after arriving in Metropolis a spacious studio had become available and in typical Lana fashion she jumped on the opportunity to live there rather than with her friend.

Clark appreciated the neighborhood’s brightly lit streets and dignified old brownstones. So much better than his own section of the city that was still in the midst of a renaissance. But despite the pleasantness of the surroundings and the companionable way they walked together, he sensed something was on Lana’s mind. She was weighing her words before speaking.

he looked up at him, her knowing blue eyes piecing into his, “Clark … you were right about us having separate apartments. Lately our lives have become so hectic! You’re working such crazy hours at the newspaper. Me trying to build and establish a reputation at the museum, tracking down bits of history…” She hesitated, than said.

“Will my being so far away bother you?”

He looked at her oddly, his brown eyes questioning her, “Since when has distance ever mattered?”

“Oh yes, that’s right,” the tone of her voice was curiously flat,
“distance doesn’t mean anything to a man who can fly.”

Clark smiled, trying to lighten the somber mood that has overtaken them, “That’s right, if you need me, I’m just a call away.” He brightened and said, “Hey, I’ll take time off work and fly you to the airport. We can spend a little more time together…”
She hesitated briefly, and then spoke. “That won’t be necessary Clark. I’m leaving from the museum with some of the board members, on Monday afternoon; we’re all flying to Zurich together. Why don’t we spend the weekend with my parents? We …we can even go to the baseball game. Ah, that is if you have tickets and Pete doesn’t want to go?”

He could sense Lana’s desire to leave him and start making preparations for her trip. Her apparent excitement for the job ahead, outweighed her wish to be with him. Still he was happy that she was a good sport and would go to a game, it would make her departure for Europe easier on both of them. “I wasn’t planning on going to the game, but I can get tickets from one of the sportswriters.”

“So are we on for the weekend? After that, I have a ton of packing to do. Please, say you understand?” She looked up, blinking her large eyes at him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He worked hard to hide his disappointment. He wanted to tell her all about his interview with Arianna. Now, that seemed unimportant in comparison with her big plans.

Lana stood on tiptoe and placed her mouth firmly on his. The kiss was sweet and smooth; her tongue playfully teased his, leaving Clark feeling sad to see Lana depart. As she climbed the stairs, she said in a firm voice, loud enough only for him to hear. “Now remember, while I’m gone keep away from flying! See you on Saturday!”

“Yes Lana, good-night,” he said. Then he walked down the street, feeling an odd mixture of relief and sadness.

***

Upon arriving at home he was surprised to find Pete sitting on his couch watching the evening news and waiting for him. Normally his roommate should have been pulling a twelve-hour shift at the hospital.

“Great! I thought you would never get home. Look, are you still serious about finding a place?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Well sport, this is your lucky day! Two of the interns are looking to move out of their place on Clinton Street. I told Skip you were looking for a place. Want to see it tonight? There are bound to be a lot of applicants. It’s about a fifteen block walk to the Daily Planet.”

Excited at the prospect of finding his own place, Clark answered,

“Sure, let me change and we can go.” Clark took off his sports coat, went into his room and emerged seconds later, wearing jeans, and a dark blue polo shirt.

Pete shook his head in bewilderment. “No matter how long I know you, that’s one trick I’ll never get used to! Come on!”

After a quick cab ride they came to Clinton Street. Decades ago the neighborhood was home to shipping warehouses and small industries, now the neighborhood was either on the way up or down, depending on the realtor’s perspective. As they climbed out of the black and yellow cab, Clark noticed laundry hanging out of someone’s apartment. He quietly shuddered and turned to Pete. “I thought we were friends, this is your idea of me having a ‘lucky’ day?”

The big man laughed softly, “Don’t let the laundry fool you, Kevin and Skip were running behind schedule and they thought this was quicker than wasting time at the local Laundromat. Come on, the place is great.”

“If it’s so great, why are they leaving?” Clark asked, still apprehensive.

“Oh, Kevin’s moving back to San Francisco and Skip found a place closer to the hospital.”

Pete opened the door and they entered a large, barren corridor painted in dark green that led to an elevator. Fortunately the car was there and they rode it to the fourth floor. They stepped out to another wide corridor; on one side was another hallway which led to a short flight of stairs up a wide raised platform. They climbed the stairs and Pete knocked loudly on the door.

A young man in his mid-twenties with curly brown hair and a quiet smile opened and beckoned them inside. “Man this is great, glad you could make it,” he said, speaking to Pete. “You must be Clark. Name’s Skip McLaurin, the guy crashed on the pullout is my soon-to-be ex-roomie, Kevin DeLuca.”

“That’s DOCTOR DeLuca peasant,” said a gravelly voice good naturally from under a pile of blankets.

“Get your lazy butt up and meet the prospective new tenant.” Skip responded in kind.

The young men exchanged introductions all around, and then Skip gave Clark a guided tour of the place. After they stepped down a short flight of steps to enter the sunken living room, in the middle of which was a pullout bed and a small TV set which Kevin returned to. Clark carefully looked past the bachelor pad dust and general disorderliness of the apartment’s occupants to its potential underneath. The wooden floors were in decent condition, the walls needed paint, preferably a much lighter color than the ugly industrial dark gray that was currently there.

The small kitchen alcove cried out for a new stove and fridge, the deep and well placed cabinets only needed to be sanded and repainted. But the outstanding jewel was the island, it provided plenty of room to prep food or simply pull up a stool to eat a snack. Large open shelves and a cutlery drawer offered both function and style. It was built of solid wood with every attention to detail, from the distressed Black finish, to features such as soft-close drawers, towel handles and cabinet doors. The thick, oak top showed some signs of use, which only gave it that much more character. For a cook like himself, this kitchen, once it was renovated, would serve as a place for him to whip up a few culinary creations.

The exposed brick wall that separated the sleeping alcove from the living room could be a focal point to display his many pieces of art. He measured the area with his eyes and realized it could easily accommodate a king-sized bed, yet there was still enough room for the rest of his bedroom furniture. The surprisingly roomy bathroom with a separate tub, shower and small linens closet was past the sleeping alcove.

But what really caught Clark’s attention was the spacious balcony. He studiously avoided asking about the laundry stretched from the balcony to the building across the way. He could bring his parents’ old porch set and enjoy the calm of an evening. Despite being in the middle of downtown Metropolis, it was relatively quiet.

It also allowed him perfect right of entry to and from the sky without being seen.

When he came back into the apartment and noticed the black wrought iron circular staircase in the bedroom he asked. “Where does that lead?”

“Oh, a loft, it can be used as a storage space or a small office.”

Clark nodded thoughtfully, the building was old, it’s location a little iffy, yet the apartment itself had definite potential.

“How much is the rent?”

Skip said, “Seven hundred and fifty a month.”

Clark blinked in surprise, looked at Skip and Kevin and blurted out.
“Pardon me, seven hundred and fifty dollars in rent from each of you? That makes the total fifteen hundred, far too rich for my blood.”

“No way, thankfully, that’s the total rent. After all man, this location is close to the downtown area and when the transit folks finally finish the Metro extension you can hop the train and be at work in less than ten minutes.” Skip said.

<Wow, I wonder how much the landlord’s going to charge me.> Clark thought.

“One of the reasons why we didn’t do anything with the place is because the old Landlord never did much with the building. Heat was a problem and so was getting basic services. But since Mr. Wrenn brought the building, we’ve seen a lot of improvements. Too bad, ‘cause I would have stayed, even though I’d have to foot the bill myself. But when the opportunity came to get a great spot closer to the hospital… ” He shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, if you’re interested I’ll put in a good word for you. Better hurry, the moving truck is coming in a few days. There are bound to be a lot of folks at the hospital who’ll want this place.”

“Sounds fair, give me your phone number and I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” Clark said.

Clark and Pete said their farewells. Soon they found themselves back on the sidewalk; it was such a gentle spring evening they decided to walk home.

“So? Is this the place?” his friend asked.

“Pete, the past six months have been great, but it’s time for me to have my own place. The possibilities are good, especially the balcony and the space for a small office. Much as I like the way Lois has her office set-up at her place. I prefer a separate room to keep my work. The only thing that’ll get in my way is how much Mr. Wrenn will charge for rent. What with paying for farm expenses and dropping money on my new city wardrobe, I need to keep a watchful eye on my finances.”
His friend nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, you do have a lot to consider. But with your carpentry skills and other ‘abilities’ fixing that place up should be fairly cheap, especially, if you plan on living in Metropolis for awhile.”

There was a thoughtful tone in Clark’s voice, “I do Pete. After six months of living here, this city has become my home.”

“That’s good.” He hesitated for a moment; the reference to Lois’ apartment and not Lana’s had not been missed on him, but he decided to leave that alone said, “Think Lana will like it?”
Clark sighed, in all the excitement of the past hour he had forgotten about Lana. “She’s got an important assignment from her Dad. On Monday she flies to Europe for a few weeks. We’re going to spend the weekend together, it’s doubtful there’ll be time for her to take a quick tour of the place. I’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“Wow! She’s moving into the big time world of museum acquisitions. Quite a long way from digging around in trenches looking for ruins. Come to think of it, we all have.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what she said.” Clark responded. He couldn’t bring himself to reveal to Pete that something felt ‘off’ about Lana tonight. It wasn’t merely the excitement of going to Europe in search of an ancient chair, even if it was one that Napoleon sat on. Her mind was detracted, almost as if something or someone else had taken his place. He hoped he was wrong, but if his instincts were correct, then what?

***

Twenty-four hours later, found Lana climbing the stairs to her building again. She closed the door to her apartment and walked over to the small kitchenette to make some tea. There was a great deal on her mind and she needed some quiet time to think before completing the task of packing.

Gregory Daae.

Lana couldn’t get him out of her mind. They dined at a very upscale French bistro called Cercle Rouge. She could hear Gregory’s voice in gently accented French speak lovingly of the charming restaurant as he ate his dinner; Demi-Poulet Bio roasted organic chicken, wild mushrooms, cipollini onions, and fava beans. “This place is faithful to tradition, but also delivering the class and comfort Europeans like I crave when away from home for extended periods of time.” Quietly she ate her meal; Saumon Sauvage, pan roasted wild salmon, spicy couscous, dates, tomatoes and lemon yogurt, eagerly hanging onto every word.

Spending time with Gregory Daae was a treat for her senses and mind.

They met this morning for breakfast not far from his townhouse. The fluffy white spinach omelets at Michael Dean’s café were simply amazing. Sitting outside in the fresh early morning air, they discussed the three rooms or tableaus of the Age of Napoleon exhibit. Lana lamented that they wanted to do at least two more rooms, but funds and space limited the display. Daae was something of an authority on the former French Emperor and revealed intimate details of his life that Lana was unaware of. She could easily have been content spending the rest of the morning listening to him. In an effort to stretch out their time together she ate very slowly.
Unfortunately, their pleasant meal reached the coffee stage, Lana had no interest in returning to her cramped office at the museum, but she had to end this lovely morning interlude and head to work. On Monday they would be flying to Zurich. Suddenly Daae stared at her and said,

“What shall you do after the exhibit is complete? Work on another historical display?”

Lana thought for a moment and said softly, “I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off and then she revealed something to him even Clark did not know. Looking straight into Daae’s eyes she said, “A year ago I would have said teaching French history at a major university or working as some professor’s assistant on a dig. Working for my Dad is fine, for now, still there is so much more for me to learn and do. I’m a field person, spending at least eight months out of every year digging around old ruins is my passion. Not sitting in an office cataloguing finds from other groups. I want to run my own expedition.”
Her companion nodded sagely and gestured with his hands for her to continue.

“Thousands of years ago the Romans marched through Gaul to reach England, they had a large colony in the Burgundy region. The region is well documented, but currently no one is willing to give a grant for an American expedition. I want to go set up a dig and see what artifacts they left behind.”

She continued talking, her blue eyes sparkling with barely contained enthusiasm as she warmed to her subject; he absorbed every word, his thoughts racing. <She has intelligence, passion and most of all youth. Lana reminds me of Arianna ten years ago. She fascinates me.>

“…maybe when this exhibit work is complete, I’ll join an archeological dig in Europe. It’ll take time, but I’m confident I can build a reputation of my own. After all, what person or foundation in their right senses would hand over hundreds of thousands of dollars in funding to an unknown beginner?”

“Financial endowments of that nature usually run into millions of dollars. Totally unexpected expenses have a way of rearing their ugly heads.” He responded dryly.

Lana blinked twice, than puffed out her cheeks. “Finding backers who will cover those ‘totally unexpected expenses’ are very hard to find. I’ll have to be like everyone else; approach a foundation with a well written proposal and then, get in line to wait for an answer.”

“The process will take a considerable amount of time.” Daae said dubiously.

“True. Nevertheless one of the advantages of being here working for the museum I will be making all the right connections and…!” While talking, she gestured wildly and accidently spilled tomato juice all over her day planner, she quickly tried to soak up the water with a napkin, but the cheap plastic and cardboard notebook was utterly spoiled.

“Drat! It’ll take hours to transfer all my notes! That is if I can read the sloppy mess.”

“Cheri, it should not take too long. I suspect writing swiftly is only one of your many talents.” He said with a soothing voice.
There was a brief silence between them as Lana tried to decipher the meaning of his words, than Daae asked if he could call on Lana while she was seeing collectors in Zurich. She readily agreed and gave him the number of the place where she would be staying; Hotel Scheuble, which was located in the old town section of Zurich.

A momentary shadow seemed to cross his face. Lana sensed he was not pleased with her accommodations, yet he refrained from mentioning it.
Their breakfast date was at an end, he had a meeting and she needed to go to work. He dropped her off at the museum and promising to see her at the airport on Monday, departed.

Lana watched the limo move into the morning traffic and thought to herself that after two such exquisite meals, how was she ever going to go back to life at the Metropolis museum, eating lackluster ham sandwiches for lunch? Poor Clark, nothing he could do quite compared to spending time with Daae. Oh, he could certainly fly her to Paris, but after they got there, with their meager salaries it was a sure bet they would be pinching their pennies the whole time.

On the other hand, money - and the little luxuries it could purchase - was never an issue with Gregory.

Later that day, after returning from a meeting with her Father, a small package from Belgims, one of Metropolis’ most chic upscale boutiques, was on her desk. Eagerly she tore open the package, inside was a buttery soft, brown croco embossed leather agenda, her name stamped on a small gold plate. A note was tucked inside, written on creamy vellum stationary with a heavy blue border in a firm, strong hand, it said;

Zurich awaits and so do I…

Lana smiled triumphantly. So did she.

Now hours later the feeling of triumph returned and not without a sense of nervous anticipation. Lana sat at the tiny wooden kitchen table that also served as her desk and sipped a cup of hot chamomile tea lightly sweetened with honey. She reached into her old black patent leather bag and removed the new agenda. She lovingly rubbed the exquisite rich croco surface and breathed in its smell. The binder was something very classy and luxurious to walk into a meeting with, but it symbolized much more to her. Perhaps this was the beginning of walking into a whole new world? Only time would tell ...