Part Thirty-One
As with the White Orchid Ball, Clark, Lois, Jack and Catherine bundled into the back of a large yellow Metrocab to return to the newsroom in order to write up the account for the morning edition.
“If you can get us to the Daily Planet in record time, there’s an extra ten bucks in it for you.” Clark said as he shut the door.
“Gotcha pal!” The cabbie said with a toothy grin and with a jolt, dived into late night traffic. The move was so abrupt that Jack nearly dropped his camera case.
“Careful!” His fellow reporters shouted in unison.
“Jack, that camera case holds your future as a photojournalist! Don’t let anything happen to it!” Lois said with feeling.
The pictures Jack had managed to take under the circumstances would be key to the story. All of them slipped into a contemplative silence until they reached the Daily Planet building. For once, the cantankerous elevator operated in a hushed manner, seeming to pick up on the mood of its occupants.
“I wish we could have gone to the hospital with Alice. It’s feels like we are abandoning her and Perry.” Lois said as she walked down the ramp towards her desk.
“That’s true, but Alice is aware Perry will recover sooner knowing we are writing a story that will boost circulation and be a fantastic lead-in for the DMG series … especially with Jack’s pictures.” Clark turned to Jack and said, “Every single picture in that camera is vital!”
“Heading to the darkroom now. Glad to get out of this monkey suit!” Jack quickly removed the tie and started heading for the darkroom with the camera bag slung over his shoulder. “What a night! It’s a good thing the big guy was there! Hey Clark, it’s still hard to believe Templar thought you were Superman! How could anyone be in two places at once?”
Before any of them could respond, Mitch Ryder, the night editor, an owlish looking man came out of his office and gazed suspiciously at the foursome over his wire rim glasses. He held a grudging respect for the group. Especially Lane, it took courage and determination to stay on the paper after the way her relationship with Claude DeBarre tanked. Nonetheless, he was disturbed at having these favorites of Perry invading the tranquility of the night staff and their routine. Clark and Lois had virtually taken prisoner the main conference room with their research. His staff had been not so quietly grumbling about using the stuffy conference room down the hall. He hoped they were simply here to write up their stories and beat a hasty retreat.
“Anybody want to tell me what’s going on around here? It was my impression all of you were supposed to be covering that museum event?”
They all exchanged glances, and by silent agreement made Catherine their spokesperson, since she had known Mitch the longest. She motioned him over to her visitor’s chair, while the others continued booting up their computers. Jack, without another word, hurried to the darkroom.
A few moments later, Clark heard as the older man whistled, shook his head, ashamed by his earlier thoughts and murmured in a hushed tone, “Well blow me down. Perry White has been shot! Lex Luthor and Gregory Daae were shot by one of Daae’s executives?”
The letters on Lois’ monitor swam into a murky blur of green and black as she listened to Catherine relate the night’s events. Chiefly in her mind was the prone figure of Perry lying on the floor, his trouser leg wet with his own blood made her want to cry out. It took a strong effort to push the image from her brain and continue typing.
“Thanks for telling me.” A visibly shaken Mitch rose heavily from the chair “We’ll make this story a tribute to Perry.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “All of you have an hour to get your stories written up and submitted. Tell Jack I want whatever he’s got ASAP!”
For the next twenty minutes or so, the only sounds heard were that of the keyboards being pounded. As the trio swiftly crafted their stories Catherine focused on the impact on the financial and political scene both locally and internationally while Lois and Clark concentrated on Jasper’s arrogance of his attack and the unselfishness of Perry’s decision to stand up to him.
Eventually Lois stopped typing and asked out loud “What about the ‘Lady in Red’? Without her swift actions tonight – last night’s outcome might have been far worst.”
“True,” said her partner thoughtfully as he came over. “She did make a difference when it counted.”
Suddenly, an angry growl could be heard above them.
“Rats! In all the pictures I took, our mystery lady’s face was blurred or blocked!” Jack stormed down the ramp, upon reaching his friends, he handed the pictures, still damp from the darkroom, to Lois. Clark abandoned his computer and Catherine put down her phone to join them.
She carefully thumbed through the shots; one of Daae faltering, clutching his shoulder, another of Lex Luthor on the floor with a weeping Arianna by his side and the final shot was of a lone blonde haired woman wearing a red dress delivering a strong kick to Templar’s mid-section, but her face was obscured by her hands which were up in a ready position.
“Too bad there’s no picture of the woman’s face, nevertheless, these shots are good! Just the extra spice to make the story sing!”
Mitch came over, took the pictures from Lois and studied them carefully. Finally he said, “We’ll lead with the Lady in Red’s picture and put these other shots on page two. Our objective is to inform the public and perhaps discover her identity.” He looked at all of them and asked, “Did anybody get a glimpse of what she actually looked like?”
Feeling the need to throw the others off Wanda’s trail, Clark shrugged and said, “No. She moved so fast that she just looked like a … a blur to me.”
Lois turned around and stared at him. “What? Kansas, are you serious? Has anything happened to your glasses in the last five hours?”
Jack snorted, “A blur? Are you trying to tell me that this woman is somehow working with Superman?”
“Not necessarily, it’s just … those karate moves were so fast. She really knew her stuff.” Clark said with a helpless shrug.
Catherine was quiet as she took the photo in her hand and studied it.
“Actually,” she said quietly, “the lady is built a lot like Lois and her voice inflections sounded a LOT like Lois. Her voice was almost identical when she shouted his name, actually, she mispronounced it. That’s what made it stick in my mind. She called him Tempus instead of Templar.”
As Catherine was relating this, Lois was thinking furiously. She had heard the shout, but you seldom actually hear the sound of your own voice, but that ‘Keyaa’ … that had been hers. It was unmistakable. <I have heard a lot of grunts, groans and shouts in the dojo. Everyone has their own particular shout when they are focusing on a strike or kick. It is as distinct as a fingerprint and what I heard was mine. Who was this woman that has my figure and voice? Well, no matter who it was, it obviously wasn’t me.>
“Oh boy, Catherine it is the wee hours of the morning, so I’ll excuse that comment. It couldn’t have been me although I’m probably that good. No way would I dye my hair! Besides, I was right there on the floor with the rest of you.”
Mitch held up one hand to calm them and then said, “That enough speculation for now. Under the picture will be a question, ‘Who is this woman.’ Maybe someone knows.”
Clark thought, <Happy hunting with that idea. By this time Wanda and CJ are back on their own world.>
The phone on Catherine’s desk started to ring. As quickly as she could with three-inch heels, she ran across the room and picked it up. Two minutes later she put it down, shook her head and said, “The word is spreading about Luthor and Daae. Pretty soon, my phone is going to go ballistic! Frantic contacts on Wall Street and Capitol Hill will want to know what happened tonight. I’ll bet my Wharton degree that DMG and LexCorp stocks are going to be down.”
Mitch nodded, “A truthful account of what happened might help. Is everyone finished with their articles? They have to be checked.”
Clark replied, “Lois and I need to go over a few points.”
The night editor gave them both an uncompromising look over his glasses and wondered how Perry put up with these two. “By ‘few points’ you mean Lois didn’t use the ‘spell check’ feature again?”
Embarrassed, Clark cleared his throat while Lois rolled her eyes, but now, was not the time to get into an argument.
Catherine came over and said “Mitch, the article should be in your inbox and the outline for tomorrow’s evening edition has been sent as well.”
He smiled and said, “Good work Grant! Wait a sec, how about finishing the follow-up now?”
Before she could answer, a yawn escaped then she said, “In two hours the sun is going to come up and the Asian markets will be alerted that Daae and Luthor have been hospitalized. I won’t be able to get quotes for the rest of the financial talking heads until then. In the meantime, crawling under nice fresh sheets and getting eight hours of sleep is all I care about right now.”
“Sleeping sounds good to me!” Lois said as she tried in vain to stifle a yawn. “I need to get out of this gown and take a shower.”
Mitch grumbled, “Get the stories over to me ASAP! Than go home. You guys are great for the daytime staff, but you are not night workers.”
***
Clark and Lois shared a cab to her place. She had invited him upstairs for coffee, but he declined, but decided to at least walk her to the apartment door, he sent the cab on its way. Now that they were out of the newsroom, it was painfully evident Lois was physically, and emotionally drained from the stressful evening they had experienced. Tonight had yielded very different results from what everyone originally anticipated.
Clark took her keys, opened the multiple locks and said, “Good-Night Lois. See you in the morning.”
A tired sigh escaped her lips, “Good-night, are you sure about not coming inside for a cup of coffee?”
He looked her over, the once shimmering white gown was now speckled with smudges from when she lay on the floor by Perry’s side at the museum. Tendrils of dark brown hair had tumbled loose from the confines of the pins holding it together; the once flattering eye make-up was now streaked and messy from tears and perspiration.
Yet in his eyes, she was the most stunning woman in the world. He leaned close, took her face in his strong, supple hands and gently pressed warm lips on her forehead. The reward for doing something so tender and unexpected was to listen as her heart beat passionately. Previously his attraction and feelings for the woman before him had threatened to get out of hand. Once in the parking garage and then at her home, then as now, those feelings needed to remain under control.
A voice both rough and yet seductive spoke, “Lois … I want to come inside and be with you. There … there’s a lot for us to talk about, unfortunately; now is not the time. We’re both exhausted. I promise we will get some time at my place and cook dinner together then we can talk all night if you want.”
Lois was about to respond when a loud meow erupted from the apartment and Lady Plushbottom stuck her furry head out the door. She looked up disapprovingly at the humans with her blue eyes.
The feline’s untimely appearance put an unexpected end to their conversation.
“She’s looks rather hungry.” Clark said with a chuckle.
“Don’t kid yourself, Kansas, she’s always hungry.” Lois said while attempting to mask annoyance at her pet. “Maybe we can get together tomorrow and finish the first DMG article?”
“I’d like that. See you tomorrow.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Clark entered his apartment to find once again that CJ, Wanda sans the blonde hair and contacts and H.G. Wells were there waiting for him. His eyes studied Wanda and CJ, they sat close to each other and held hands. In the year and a half since he had met CJ, It was perfectly obvious their marriage had strengthen and matured. He was envious of their easy rapport with one another and fervently hoped such a relationship would come about between his Lois and himself.
He greeted the trio by saying, “My apartment has become your home in this alternative universe.”
CJ answered with a gentle chuckle, “Well, it was also my apartment … with the exception of a few things, of course.”
“Oh honey, let’s not worry about that right now.” Wanda said. “What happened with those pictures? Please tell me that Jack did not get a clear shot of me!”
“There is not a single clear picture of you. But a photo of you punching Tempus will be on the front page of the Daily Planet’s morning edition. With the eye witnesses and him shooting two public figures, we can all rest assured that Tempus is going to be in jail for a long time.”
H.G. Wells bounced on his toes and said, “Someone will be in jail, but it won’t be Tempus.”
“Huh?” Clark responded. “By the way, where have you been?”
“A fair question my dear Mr. Kent. I have been having conversations with some colleagues of mine. Remember Utopia? It will occur in your universe as well. But this Tempus is not from here. He is from CJ and Wanda’s universe.”
Closing his eyes in pain Clark groaned, “Oh no! There’s another one out there?”
“Quite right, quite right, yet nothing to concern yourself with my boy. The Tempus from this universe is actually a very pleasant chap. He’s one of the senior librarians for the Cyclopedia Galactica. One of the many people who has a hand in administering Utopia. The last thing Camden Tempus wants is for that peaceful existence to be destroyed.”
CJ asked, “So I take it you have been talking to the Time Police of our universe?”
Herb nodded and said, “Indeed. We have very explicit plans for Mr. Tempus. He will be removed by a team of operatives from prison, led by someone who has a personal stake in making certain the plan is a success.
“Oh? Who?” CJ asked.
“Lars Daae. Descendant of the Gregory Daae of your world, who is a very well respected Swiss watchmaker.”
The trio could not help but laugh.
“Yes, quite the ironic touch! Especially since he is such a lover of irony. Taking his place will be a specially designed robot – a synthetic human called a replicant. The replicant will stand trial, endure all the media attention and eventually enter prison. Within two or possibly three years, it shall simply wind down and die. Tempus shall be nothing but a bad memory.
“Thank goodness! That man has been a thorn in our sides for long enough!” Wanda said angrily.
“Are you certain?” Clark asked worriedly, “He’s escaped from prisons in the past. How do you know he won’t return?
“Yes Mrs. Kent, Utopia’s future is assured. Mr. Tempus is going to the most full-proof prisons ever devised – in outer space. None of us will ever see him again; your future will be safe from any interference from him.” Wells said with visible relief.
“And so is your future Clark,” CJ said. “He cannot expose your secret.”
“Neither can Lana.” Wanda said flatly. “Her creditability simply by association with her husband has been seriously compromised. Too many people – especially those of the fourth estate – were there last night and they witnessed Clark Kent and Superman standing side by side.”
Clark heaved a sigh in relief, “Good thing the Kryptonite did not affect me as it has in the past.”
CJ rubbed his cheek and then looked intently at the time traveler.
“What about that Mr. Wells? Why wasn’t Clark in pain? He was close to the kryptonite? Oddly enough, Now that I think about it, I could feel a slight tingling despite being in the upper balcony. But my powers were unaffected. That’s never happened before."
“Hmm, my only explanation or rather hypothesis is this; we know Tempus has visited our universe and Clark’s. But what if he somehow managed to get Kryptonite from yet another dimension? If that were the case, it‘s radiation signature might affect each of you differently. With Kryptonite from your respective dimension the pain and removal of your powers usually occurs within ten feet. This would be something a man like Dr. Klein in CJ’s universe would love to delve into. But in this situation, Clark was affected in one way and CJ not at all.”
Clark nodded thoughtfully, “It sounds like as good an explanation as any. In the confusion I didn’t notice, who has the Kryptonite now?”
“I grabbed it after breaking Tempus’ arm and dropped it into my Aunt Rita’s antique evening purse.”
“Evening purse? But CJ must have been affected afterwards?”
“Nope, turns out that that particular line of evening purse had the beads strung together with lead wires, laced with enough lead to keep the radiation from leaching out. It was insurance, just in case. Sorry, I should have told you sooner.”
CJ said as he held up the small lead-lined box. “Do you have anyone here who can take care of it? Otherwise our friend Dr. Klein of S.T.A.R. Labs might want to take a look at it.”
“Here Bernard Klein is an astrophysicist. As a matter of fact, both he and his wife Aykira are due to head back into space soon. So I doubt if they will have time to study it. Please, take that blasted rock anywhere, as long as it’s away from me!”
CJ and Wanda looked at each other and then at him with rather odd expressions on their faces.
“Huh, did Mrs. Klein used to work for the Daily Planet?” Wanda asked quietly.
“No, they met at S.T.A.R. Labs. Why do you ask?”
The couple shared another odd exchange and then CJ said while shaking his head. “Oh, it’s a long story and can wait until we visit again.”
Saddened, Clark looked down and said, “Could it be sooner rather than later? CJ, Wanda these visits …well it’s like seeing my twin brother and sister-in-law. My friends are great, but you two have become family.”
CJ placed his hand on Clark’s shoulder. “You are family! Don’t ever forget it!” Looking at H.G. Wells he says, “Can’t you give him a device so he and eventually Lois can visit us?”
Bouncing on his toes the time traveler nodded and said. “That can be arranged. Besides, it might be a good thing for all of you to grow closer, after all Clark may need to come to CJ’s universe and help him.”
Clark looked at Wanda and CJ. “All you have to do is call me. I owe all of you a debt that can never be fully repaid.”
Wanda smiled and gave him a hug. “Don’t consider this a debt! We’re family and that's what they do, help one another.”
***
On Monday at the Luthor penthouse, Arianna, with cold, nervous fingers wrote out a number of substantial checks in the presence of Sheldon Bender – as well as several members of the IRS. The checks were payments to institutions, those chiefly being orphanages and other charities who would receive additional funds as well as new computers and gym equipment from Mrs. Luthor. Money and items they should have received initially if she had not tried to cheat them and feather her own nest. After Templar’s announcement about how she had hidden the bulk of the money for the sale of the various paintings in a Swiss Bank account, the IRS and several other financial watchdog organizations appeared at the Luthors’ front door.
She slid the final check over to a rather stern CPA who was also a forensic accountant. This particular check was the most expensive and painful, yet it was the most important. It was the last in a series of heavy fines being charged to both Lex and Arianna for committing fraud and money laundering. There was serious conversation in the IRS offices, regarding whether one or both should serve jail time.
As Catherine Grant had predicted, LexCorp stock was taking a serious beating. In order to improve the stocks, it was imperative that Arianna show a repentant attitude and pay back everything she owed. Lex was recovering slowly from his wounds, but preferred to remain in the hospital where he could be shielded from scrutiny by the press. In some media outlets, most notably LNN, he was being treated as a sympathetic figure, one who was not aware of his wife’s perfidy.
Not many people in the country were willing to believe that.
When Nigel St. John silently closed the door on the last accountant, Arianna breathed a sigh of relief, sat down on the grey couch and leaned back deep into the plush cushions. She looked over at Bender and St. John who were both standing by the door and said with real feeling, “Finally! Those insufferably, miserable financial maggots are gone! Nigel, can you make a pot of tea?”
“No, Arianna. I shall not.” He said. His few words were as brittle and dry as a dead tree.
Arianna. Nigel St. John had called her Arianna. He never used her first name. Something was happening, as if the whole world had simply shifted in an entirely new and alarming direction.
“What? Why not?” she said nervously glancing from one man to another.
Bender looked over at Nigel and said, “Please, handle that matter we discussed earlier, Mr. St. John.”
Nigel bowed slightly at the waist and said, “As you wish sir.” Without another word he slipped out of the room.
She pulled herself up from the couch, walked over to the lawyer and said, each word squeezed between her lips, “What is going on?”
Bender cleared his throat and looked at the plush gray carpeting. “Mr. Luthor. That is your … husband Lex, feels continued association with you has become …problematic.”
Her large brown eyes grew wider when she said, “Problematic?”
“Yes, between the bad publicity for LexCorp, the cost of paying back taxes and hefty fines, he feels it is time to agree to disagree.”
Stunned, Arianna said loudly, “*He* feels it’s time to agree to disagree? Sheldon, are you saying my husband sent you here to tell me he wants a divorce?”
The short man pulled his eyes from the carpet and stared up at her. There was little compassion in his expression. “To put it rather bluntly, yes.”
There was a knock on the door and then Nigel slipped inside, without giving her a single glance he said. “Arianna’s bags are packed and a car is waiting for her downstairs. The driver has been instructed to take her wherever she wishes to go.” Nigel did not stick around to hear more. He left the room without a word.
Her voice cracked and she grabbed the lawyer’s arm. “Sheldon! He can’t do this! I put up with Mindy Church and all the others …”
Sheldon pulled away and again found something fascinating about the carpet; his bald pate was shiny with a thin sheen of sweat despite the room’s air being cool. He responded drily. “Let’s not travel down that unfortunate path. Mr. Luthor feels that taking a madman’s bullet, which was meant for you, evens the scales.” He reached into his briefcase and removed a thick pile of papers. “Sign these documents and we can get started with the separation process. There is also a check for five hundred thousand dollars, more than enough to get you started on a new life. He is also willing to be quite generous after the divorce.” He took out a silver pen and handed it to her. “Considering your damaging association with Mr. Daae and Templar and the legal entanglements to follow, I strongly suggest accepting this offer, there shall be no others.”
Defeated, Arianna’s shoulders slumped, without another word took the pen, signed on the lines where Bender indicated. He accepted the pen from her and placed the documents back in the briefcase. In a brisk, businesslike manner, as if they had concluded a simple transaction he said. “Thank you. This was the best decision for all concerned. Please inform my office of your new address so the alimony checks can be mailed to you. Good-bye, Arianna.” With that Sheldon Bender held the door open, not intending to allow her to take anything from the penthouse that had not been packed up.
With less ceremony than it would take to swat a fly, Arianna had been eliminated from her husband’s life. If there was any remorse for her actions against Lex they did not appear on her face. She spent a moment to take a brief look around the tastefully appointed space and then opened the doorway and went into the corridor and a new and terrifying life as not being Mrs. Lex Luthor.
***
Shooting at Metropolis Museum!
International Media Magnets Lex Luthor and Gregory Daae
wounded by Daae’s former disgruntled employee
By Lois Lane and Clark J. Kent
The events that occurred during the Age of Napoleon Exhibit opening night were splashed all over the tabloids and other media outlets. Of course the Daily Planet was the only paper which had photos of Jasper Templar being subdued by a mysterious woman in red. Such a photo did not hurt the paper’s circulation and the lady was the topic of discussion and speculation around water coolers and coffee carts in the offices, supermarkets and homes of Metropolis.
Unfortunately, despite a city wide search the woman had at that point not been discovered. Without, clear identification with each passing day, it was more and more unlikely she ever would be.
For the week afterwards only the Daily Planet carries the story of DMG manipulation of the news to further its own ends. Of course this brought about a firestorm of accusations from the media company against the paper, but with each accusation proof was presented to back up each article. Former employees began coming forward telling their own stories. Victims of Daae’s crimes also wanted to be heard, consequencely, the newsroom’s phones never stopped ringing. Even citizens from the fishery village who four years ago did not want speak with Lois than, now insisted on bending her ear.
As predicted by Stephanie’s friend Emma, the Metropolis offices of DMG were raided by every financial government agency imaginable. The board of directors, in a frantic move to save the company, asked Gregory Daae to resign as CEO and turn over most his shares of the company. After listening to his lawyers and financial advisors he did so with the greatest of reluctance. Now it was Friday night and the final article wrapping up all the loose ends has been sent to Mitch Ryder for the Saturday morning edition.
Lois was working hard on finishing an unrelated article when her phone rang. On the other end was Bobby Bigmouth. In the background she heard the sound of a paper bag being crumpled and knew he was once again in the middle of his preferred occupation. {Hey! It’s your favorite snitch and street epicurean. See I told ya my advice was good! Gregory Daae and his cronies are gonna get the comeuppance they deserve! Kent ain’t such a bad partner after all. Youse guys make beautiful copy together. Me and the crew in the Ninety-Second Street soup kitchen are all hoping this is gonna becomes a permanent partnership.}
Lois could not help but laugh and then she said, “We’ll see about that! Where have you been for the past couple of weeks?”
{Doin’ what I do best. Cook. A guy’s gotta eat. Anyhow, I called to congratulate you and Kent on breaking the Daae story and one other item of interest. Wow! The museum article on Saturday was good, talk about a great appetizer! What’s the main course?}
“Now Bobby, am I the type of literary chef who spoils the meal? Pick up a copy of the Daily Planet evening edition and find out.”
{OK. I can wait. Hey, you interested in how your ‘friend’ Linda King got all that information about LNN executives?}
Lois responded very cautiously. “Yes. That material she gave us was pretty extensive, all the way down to each person’s particular habits. It had to have come from someone inside LNN.”
{Bingo! It did! From former Daily Planet reporter Claude Debarre! But you don’t have ta worry about that creep. Someone dropped a dime on him. He was canned yesterday and LNN is planning on pressuring charges.}
Lois was quiet for a moment, but she gave herself a small shake and remembered, the wide-eyed, innocent young reporter no longer existed. Releasing the breath she did not realize she was holding said, “That couldn’t have happened to a ‘nicer’ guy. Got anything else?”
The phone vibrated with the sounds of food being chewed, Lois waited patiently.
{Maybe. How about a little information regarding the former publisher of the Metropolis Star, Preston Carpenter? Last night he tried ta skip the country. Apparently he attempted ta make some illegal trades on DMG stock. A hungry little birdie told Assistant DA Mayson Drake all about it. After the trial he’ll be wearing an orange jumpsuit and eatin’ real bad chow as a guest of the US government.}
“Ha! That is something new. Anyhow that’s the perfect way ta cap off this series. Mr. Carpenter’s arrest by ADA Drake and company should make page two of tomorrow’s business section. Thanks Bobby!”
{Don’t mention it Lane and I mean don’t mention it! Now … ah there is the tiny matter of my fee …}
Bobby let the hush on his end of the line draw out for dramatic effect, until Lois broke the silence. She sighed theatrically and said, “Stop by Café Americana this evening and order whatever you want, as long as the tab does exceed one hundred dollars.”
The chewing sounds stopped and Lois actually heard the snitch squeak. {A hundred dollars? That’s not even a decent snack! My poor Grandmother would hang her head in shame! Put Kent on the phone, he knows how ta treat a poor starvin’ hustler right!}
A full laugh escaped Lois’ lips, “Nothing doing! I’m grateful for the information, but the Daily Planet has a limit for all its confidential sources.”
The snitch began to whine. {I’ll take the payment in installments!}
“Bobby …”
{Okay! Talk ta you later!}
Once again a soft chuckle escaped her throat as she put the phone down; Bobby was a great source, but something of a drain on her expense account. Nonetheless without his help and advice this series of articles would have remained a thick file of notes in her steel cabinet at home turning yellow and dry with age.
A soft ping alerted her to an e-mail had come in. This was another computer update that Ken Janney the IT department install. E-mail was great, but sometimes the pings were more of a disturbance than helpful. With a quick sigh, she switched to the screen.
From: Eduardo
To: Lois
Subject: Congratulations!
Everyone on this side of the pond is excited and proud of you and Kent for the outstanding work done on the DMG series of articles. Spoke with Labbie Rathbone last night, she says if you ever want a job here, there’s a space for you, apparently no one has been able to fill my shoes. ;-) That’s a high compliment Lois.
Samantha and I are enjoying married life. Teaching a new generation of journalists has it good days and bad, but for the most part it is actually fun!
Please come visit us as soon as you can. The word is you are on good terms with the Man of Steel. Maybe he could bring you over for a short visit? No need for a passport! I could have used his talents on some of my wilder assignments. The invitation is open we have a spare bedroom in our townhouse that Samantha has fitted out for guests.
Ciao!
A cheerful smile spread across Lois’ lips. Of all the accolades she had received so far, this e-mail was one of the best!
No, Bobby Bigmouth and Eduardo had created the foundation for the series; Linda King and Bonesteel had provided the material or rather steel framework of evidence to go along with all her research. Stacy had helped with running down hundreds of different facts at all hours of the day and night.
Jack provided attention grabbing pictures from the museum event. He had taken the Sunday edition to the hospital and shown Perry. The old newshound was very proud of him and called HR directly and demanded his job title be changed from research assistant to full-time photojournalist -- with a large bump in salary of course.
The former street kid with an attitude had grown up in four years, together, they had gone from being ‘allies’ to good friends.
But she looked only a few feet away at the person who had given the most himself in this investigation. She could only imagine what the emotional cost had been for him to destroy Lana’s husband. She thought <It has only been a year since I came back from the mining town story and we met in this room. So much had happened in that short space of three hundred and sixty-five days.
With a flick of her wrist she had pushed her long brown hair back and realized he was more than a partner. He was her best friend. But being simply his friend no longer interested her. It was time for a deeper, richer relationship than what they had now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, rumbling noise. She looked up and the elevator doors opened. Suddenly the boom of a much welcomed voice was heard. Then Perry, balancing on a set of crutches, stepped out of the car and into the newsroom with Alice following closely behind.
“Great shades of Elvis! As soon as we finished here I’m going upstairs to Olsen’s office and demand that that contraption be replaced with a state-of-the-art elevator. The cables sounded like they were going to snap at any moment! We could have been killed!”
No one else heard another word from Perry, as a chorus of hellos and welcoming cheers filled the air. Many staffers ran up to him giving him hugs and enthusiastic slaps on the back. It seemed that Clark had beaten them all up the ramp; he shook his boss’s hand and said, “You look great Perry!”
Lois stood up from her desk, ran up the ramp and gave him the biggest and best hug. She had missed this bear of a man. “Oh Chief, it’s great to have you back!”
Alice laughingly said, “I couldn’t keep him away! The doctor insists this visit be short.”
“I’m so glad ol’ man Krebs had a ramp installed rather than stairs.” Perry said as he slowly walked down into the bullpen, “We will go home Alice honey, like I promised. But first, let me check on a few things.”
Mitch exited the Senior Editor’s office and greeted Perry warmly. “So glad to have you back!”
“Thanks for taking care of the newsroom Mitch, it can’t have been easy stepping in like that at the last minute.” Perry said as they met and warmly shook hands. “Let’s go in the office and talk.”
Lois looked after the threesome with a teary smile; it was good to see Perry walking around the bullpen again. Pulling together this series was fun, but she missed his particular brand of editing and straight-from-the-trenches advice. She was about to walk over to Clark’s desk when the phone rang again. She glared at the device, certain with all these interruptions this article on the ecological impact of building townhome subdivisions in the suburbs would not be completed for the Weekend section.
“Lois Lane, City Desk!” She said, failing to hide a somewhat exasperated tone.
{Lois,} said the gently scolding voice. {Is that anyway to answer the phone?}
“Oh! Aunt Rita!” Lois said in surprise. “I didn’t think it was you. Is everything all right?”
{Everything is fine. Congratulations on exposing those goons at DMG! Fantastic series! Which is exactly why we are talking, I received a very strange phone call from Zurich last night. Do you remember Mr. Tremayne? He was the supervisor for those three agents that went missing after the USB investigation?}
“Yes, there was a question as to whether or not Daae might have been involved in their disappearance. It’s funny, with all the information we were able to pull together for our article we found absolutely nothing to implicit him in the death or disappearance of those three agents or the members of your team. Maybe it was a matter of coincidence.”
{That’s a good thought. After all, I’m still alive and kickin’. But I wanted to tell you, he died recently.}
Lois sat up straight in her chair. Was Daae despite being across the ocean in a hospital room pulling malevolent strings and causing an old man’s death? She said in hushed tones. “Oh no, do you suspect …?”
{No. Mr. Tremayne was an old man and died of natural causes. But before that happened he had visitors, a woman and two men. They stayed for well over an hour, after their departure Tremayne’s, niece, Frau Zeigler said he was peaceful in a way he had not been in a long time. She questioned him about the visitors, but he said they were people he used to work with. He had retired fifteen years before. They looked too young to have worked with him than. Shortly after his death, she discovered a picture of those same people it was taken in his old office. She could tell by the décor and equipment that it had to have been taken in the late sixties or early seventies and Lois, they had not aged a day.}
“Your kidding!”
{No, I’m not. Something tells me we are not going to get an answer to this particular mystery on that score either. There’s another thing, I received an international courier packet from Zurich yesterday. The Swiss government definitely does not want those agents names mentioned in the Daily Planet – ever. If indeed it is those same people in the picture who visited an old man on his deathbed, you should honor that request and drop the matter entirely. I am also asking this as a personal favor.}
Lois was stunned by this request, “OK. We weren’t planning to mention them since we didn’t have any proof, but I’ll discuss the matter with my partner later today. Frau Zeigler is certain about what she saw?”
{Oh yeah, when we spoke she was a little frightened. I’ll sent over that Zurich packet so you can examine it yourself. Lois honey, with this story you and that partner have kicked over enough hornets nests. This one should be left alone.}
“That packet will be very interesting to examine, thanks for calling.”
On the other end of the line, Lois could actually hear her aunt’s voice relax. {It was a bundle of fun working with you on this caper. Remember don’t mention it to your uncle and I mean don’t mention it. Stop by the restaurant soon.}
They said their good-byes and hung up.
“That’s odd, that’s the second time I hear that phrase today.” She mused.
***
In Perry’s office the three people sat around the big wooden desk.
“Are you certain about this?” Mitch asked in disbelief.
“Oh, I’m certain. Right Honey?” Perry said as he took Alice’s hand.
“Absolutely. Its time someone younger takes the reins and we can enjoy life. Perry has always wanted to take me to Fiji. Once, his replacement is settled in, we are taking off for a long awaited vacation.”
Mitch shook his head, “Even if it is a two month leave of absence, the place wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Oh, I’ll be around to write special editorials and help out occasionally, but my days as Editor of the Daily Planet are almost over. I’ll be in on Monday early to start training her. You should call in my replacement. She is going to be shocked to find out about her promotion.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet.” Said Mitch and he stood up and went to get Catherine Grant.
***
Steve called out, “Clark, want to catch the game tonight? Our team looks good enough to take the pennant!”
“If this was any other evening I would take you up on the offer, but I really need to get some sleep.” The younger man said as he started shutting down his workstation and preparing to leave. “Maybe game five … if there is one?”
Disappointed Steve shrugged, “Sure, I understand. It has been a busy week for the team of Lane and Kent. But remember, with Perry back, you two are only as good as the next headline! See you on Monday!”
“Very funny Steve!” Lois and Clark said simultaneously.
“Wow! How cute! Did you two practice that?” Stacy asked while laying a file on Diane’s desk.
“No!” They said, again in unison.
Jack looked up from his cubicle and shook his head. <Those two are beginning to scare me.> He thought, turning back to studying a photo.
Lois waited until he reached her desk and said, “A quiet night at home? I might get together with Diane, Lucy and Molly and maybe Detective Ann Reid. You know, take in a chick flick. I hear the Queen’s Consort is our movie’s critic’s new favorite of the month.”
He was surprised Lois had said that. He wanted to spend this evening talking to her about their future. Trying not to display any disappointment he said. “Yeah, time to re-charge the old batteries with some rest. Steve’s right, with Perry back we need to keep our productivity up.”
She smirked and said good-naturedly. “With Superman flying around Metropolis? No way is our productivity ever going to drop off! See you on Monday!”
Again, quelling his disappointment he said, “OK Lois. Monday.” He did his best to appear upbeat while walking up the ramp.
Lois waited until he had disappeared into the elevator and quickly started shutting down for the day. She knew exactly what to do; visit the Third Street gourmet market and get some fresh ingredients for a fabulous meal!
***
Clark was happily whistling as he mounted the stairs to his apartment with a jaunty spring in his step. The entire day had been crammed full of extraordinary news! That morning the Kerth committee had contacted Mitch; they were interested in interviewing him and Lois since the DMG series of articles was being considered for a nomination. Around noon the National Journalist society called him, asking if he would speak at the annual fundraiser in Dallas. In the afternoon, just before Perry and Alice arrived there was even a phone call from the Pulitzer committee, officially announcing the reporting team of Lois Lane and Clark Kent as nominees. Mitch came out of his office to share the announcement with the entire newsroom. The news had so excited Lois and Clark; they jumped from their chairs, ran towards each other and hugged to the happy cheers of the bullpen staffers.
The accolades were flowing in because of their explosive series. As had been predicted, many in the journalistic and financial worlds were running for cover as their names were linked with either Daae’s media manipulation or Templar’s back handed scheme to make both companies his. James Olsen and the suits upstairs were seriously discussing giving each of them a weekly column.
In between congratulatory phone calls from colleagues throughout Metropolis, a network headhunter had surreptitiously contacted him and wanted to know if he was interested in making the jump from print journalism to appearing on a twenty-four hour news network based out of Seattle. The money and the offer were tempting, very tempting; nonetheless, he was a newspaper man through and through, leaving the Daily Planet and Metropolis and especially a certain dark-haired lady reporter was out of the question.
So much had happened in the span of eight hours. What a change from two weeks ago!
He let himself inside and reached over to turn on the living room lights. He was just about the close the door when he froze; the scent of perfume, very expensive perfume threaded the air. He turned swiftly to see Lana angrily walking through the door.
Stunned by the petite blonde’s sudden presence he blurted out. “Lana! What …what are you doing here?”
She did not reply, only ran down the stairs and strode up to him, her eyes flashing with anger. Clark was certain if she were ignorant of his powers Mrs. Daae would have slapped him. Instead, the acidic tone of her voice did the deed.
“Where else can I go to get a moment’s peace? Your apartment is one of the last places in Metropolis the media would look for me. Our former relationship was not broadcast on television. Who would believe half the journalist team to write this awful series of articles is my ex-boyfriend? The townhouse was swarmed by obnoxious reporters and camera crews. One of them even tried to break into the garage. I had to call the Metropolis police department to keep them at bay.”
“Lana, I’m truly sorry to hear that.”
Again those brilliant blue eyes flashed and she said feelingly, “I’ll just bet you are! My office at the museum has been searched by the MPD – all very correct with a search warrant. The DMG offices are under siege by government officials and lawyers, even my parents’ home is staked out. Oh, and Interpol showed up at DMG headquarters in Zurich yesterday, demanding to have [i]everything[\i] regarding the company’s dealing with the United Bank of Switzerland turned over to their accountants. I have never been so frightened and angry in my entire life!”
She glared at him and then said. “Who were those two people that at the museum? One of them was unquestionably super-powered, while the other sharply skilled in the defensive arts.” These were not questions, but a statement.
He suspected Lana would ask this question and was ready with the answer. “They are friends, which is far more than you need to know. So any threat of exposing my secret is forever null and void. The Daily Planet will be publishing the entire article with pictures of Superman and me standing side by side. No one will ever question whether he and I are one and the same.”
“Oh, so you get to keep your privacy while mine and Gregory’s is destroyed?” She responded quickly.
Clark took a breath to compose himself, as a reporter it was the normal course of the job to track down people in order to write a fact-based article. However, when that zeal to expose the truth of a matter directly affected the solitude of someone he knew, it was very different. Nonetheless, he could not help marveling at the sheer nerve of her words. Only a few months ago this woman was basking in the appraising glow of cameras and positive media attention. Now she was running away from them. Twice in the recent past she had threatened him with exposure of his secret and now was furious with him being allowed to keep his own secret and for exposing her husband’s offenses.
What a hypocrite.
Normally he was a patient man, but this was more than he could endure. Everything had to be Lana wanted when they were together. They had gone their separate ways and without a care, she had broken his heart in the process. Now, all consideration of her past misdeeds were to be put aside and he was to step back into the same tired old pattern?
That pattern of behavior was not going to take place ever again.
He answered in a firm voice, “What happened to your husband’s media empire would have occurred whether you were married to him or not. Gregory Daae set all this in motion years ago the moment he thought he was more important than all the innocent people around him. Has he ever mentioned Luka Brenner or a man named Rissler? These were men who stood against him and both were systemically destroyed. Luka’s protégé – Lois Lane – picked up on the story and began pulling together several clues. It was frustrating because each time a lead surfaced, Daae found a way to kill the story. But in time, others helped, all at the risk of their lives. Some from the shadows, others from the past, this series of articles would have been written whether I worked for the Daily Planet or not.” His anger began to cool once he finished speaking.
Some essence of his words must have touched Lana, the fires in her eyes seemed to diminish and the rigidity of her shoulders eased somewhat. With tired legs she walked over to the couch and sank down into the cushions. The voice which only seconds ago was corrosive with fury sounded hollow and far off. “If what you say is true, that all happened long before Gregory met me. But others have been hurt by these articles you’ve written … my father has been put on ‘administrative leave’ with pay until the whole mess is settled. Thankfully, Jefferson Bailey and Sir Julian Belgrave spoke up for him to the board members; otherwise, he would have been fired.”
Hearing these words saddened Clark. This was something he had not anticipated. Although Bertram Lang with his gruff manner was not an easy person to be around, nonetheless the esteemed historian did not deserve to lose his position because of his son-in-law’s perfidy and crooked work ethics.
He sat down beside her and took both hands in his, even with his invulnerability it was impossible not to be affected by the iciness of her skin. With memories of what they once meant to each other shading each word he replied. “Lana, I don’t know what to say …”
She snatched her hands away and snapped, “[b]Say[b/] anything? Oh, you and that partner of yours have [i]written[i] more than enough! How … how do you apologize for taking away the work of a man’s lifetime?”
This was too much, swiftly he stood up from the couch, deliberately putting distance between them; his temper was mounting up once more.
“Lana, we could argue all night about this, yet everything would be the same. This entire downward spiral happened after your marriage to Gregory Daae! I don’t remember any consideration as to how a relationship with such a man would affect your parents or friends or me. For crying out loud I purchased an engagement ring, with the plan of proposing as soon as you stepped off the plane!”
Lana gaped at him, her expression a mosaic of shock and surprise.
***
Lois, obvious to what was taking place inside her partner’s home, was all smiles and giddy anticipation as she exited the Jeep and approached 344 Clinton Place. Her arms were filled with groceries from a favorite gourmet market; bright cod fillets to be toasted with sliced almonds and served beside cucumbers with feta, mint and sumac. Clark had an excellent selection of wines, so no need to think about what drink would best accompany the meal. For dessert the crowning touch would be fresh strawberries, kiwi and blackberries drizzled with chocolate sauce. Thinking about the chocolate sauce made her lips smack in anticipation. Undoubtedly, this food would make an memorable feast. Her excuse for barging in on him was to discuss the intriguing conversation she had earlier with Aunt Rita.
Once the dinner had been eaten and the wine drank, perhaps they – as a couple, not as work partners–might relax enough to talk about a possible future together. No more interference from distressing memories or unsavory people lingering from their past. She mounted the outside steps to Clark’s apartment, saw the door open and was about to call out his name when she heard voices from within.
***
“Clark, you …you were going to ask me to marry you?” The shock in Lana’s voice was unmistakable.
He shrugged broad shoulders and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice responded, “How could you have known? By the time it was purchased, you were already married.”
Lana did not answer.
Outside, Lois clutched the shopping bag so tightly; her nails dug into the paper and tore it.
“Could it have been so difficult to phone me and say our relationship was finished? Hearing about it on the television with all my co-workers watching my every move was one of the worst things to ever happen to me.”
“I… I’m sorry for hurting you.” Lana said in a soft voice. “Can you for… forgive me?
Trying to be quiet, Lois inched closer; the door was open allowing her a clear view of the apartment’s occupants. She expected Clark to order his former girlfriend out of his apartment, but watched, her mouth gaping in horror through the open door as he embraced her. Her stomach tightened and a sick, queasy feeling spread throughout her body. Without a word, she turned and exited the building. Now that Clark had his true love back, what did he need with her?
Blinded by a curtain of tears, Lois’s footsteps were unsteady as she stumbled out of the building and somehow after fumbling with noisy keys, managed to open the car door, drop the bag of groceries on the backseat, opened the driver’s side and drag a quaking mass of nerves, muscle and sinew inside. Once the door was firmly shut she put her head down, Lois felt despair run through her body like icy waters from the most frigid depths of Antarctica, chilling every pore and cell until the liquid erupted, incongruously in the form of hot, salty tears.
After what felt like hours, a measure of calm settled over her yet each breath that entered her body felt excruciating, as a troubled heart struggled to hold itself together and her mind contemplated what had taken place in Clark’s apartment. The shocking thought of them together as lovers saddened her and she wondered what her life would be like without the gentle man from Kansas by her side.
Eventually she turned the key into the ignition, activated the headlights and drove down the street like a madwoman. If Lois had glanced at her rearview mirror, the petite form of Lana Lang-Daae would have appeared, dashing any suggestion that she and Clark were now lovers.
***
When they broke somewhat self-consciously from their embrace, Clark tried to smile, but found it hard to do. “I’m glad we cleared the air, what are your plans?”
“Staying here in Metropolis is out of the question. There is no privacy. Gregory is sending Mom and Dad to Switzerland on his jet tomorrow.”
“What about the two of you?”
She looked up at Clark, a smirk on her lips. “Who’s asking; Clark Kent my former boyfriend or the ambitious reporter?”
Shaking his head in confusion and more than a little tired of the accusations and her snide comments, he snapped. “My first question was never answered; why come to me to evade the media? You could have easily done that at a hotel under an assumed name.”
“You know perfectly well hotels have staff members who are paid snitches. Besides, coming here [b]wasn’t[b/] my first choice. Pete wasn’t at home; he must be working late at the hospital.” Lana spoke with a touch of the old anger, but he could see her heart was not in it.
“Considering he’s working in the ER and the insane hours that part of the profession demands, of course it’s unlikely to find him home. It wouldn’t surprise me it he was there now.” He said with a shrug.
Lana sighed, realizing it made sense, and where else would he be? “I meant what I said earlier, hurting you wasn’t in my plans. When Gregory showered me with attention and the finest things life has to offer, it was very hard to ignore.”
“Lana …”
She held up both hands to stop him. “No, let me finish. I was selfish and you deserve better. I took great pleasure in every delicious second, knowing full well you were waiting faithfully for me here.”
Clark winced for a brief moment when he heard those words, remembering that singular instance of passionate betrayal on Lois’ couch. Even now the encounter gave him pangs of regret and yet the sweetest touches of pleasure. Still, that was none of Lana’s business.
“Enjoying Gregory’s attention doesn’t make it right. Material things are no substitute for real friends. When Pete wasn’t home, I tried calling my old roommate Chloe, but she didn’t answer. So, once I was able to ditch the reporter pack, I turned to the only other person in Metropolis who truly knew me before I became ‘Mrs. Daae’. A man who all his life has been my friend and has shown me nothing but kindness, who wanted to marry me despite our obvious differences. A man whose friendship I ought to have cherished.”
Silence filled the apartment; neither occupant looked at the other. Everything negative about their former relationship had unexpectedly crystallized. Before leaving for Europe, she had mentioned how far they had traveled from Smallville. Little did she realize how great a distance they would separate from each other. Clark’s gentle, yet firm words broke the tension like a soft breeze. “When we reconnected two years ago, on the surface it was comforthig, more like a welcome home. Being with you brought back so many happy memories of my family and childhood on the farm. After college, my footloose travels around the world were actually an unconscious search for a new place to call home. Smallville is a place for me to visit, but it is no longer my place of permanent residence. For a span of time our relationship gave me comfort, but there were still greater worlds for me to explore. Even if I had given you the ring, we would have never married. Something …”
She whispered so softly only he could hear “Or someone.”
“ …would have made us realize what kind of a misstep we were about to take. In fairness, we should have said our final good-byes at Wichita Airport and saved ourselves a ton of grief. You and I are not a good fit Lana. I will always hope for the best for you.”
She nodded in agreement. The coolness in her voice was unmistakable when she said. “We lead totally different lives. When all the legal entanglements and fines are done, Gregory and I are returning to Europe, permanently. He has never been comfortable in Metropolis and neither of us wants to run into that partner of yours.” She stood up, signaling it was time to leave. “Good-bye Clark.”
He nodded and then thinking of the future and what he wanted to build with Lois said not unkindly, “Lana, we have created separate lives. It pains me to say this, but no matter what happens in the future, please understand there can be no refuge in my home for you. Do not return.”
Before he could say anything else, Lana bent her head down, took a shallow breath, than looked up at Clark in a way so as to hold his face in her memory. The pain and acceptance was there for him to see. Wordlessly she touched his cheek and gave it one final caress, than she turned, walked up the stairs, and out of the apartment. The words they had shared were agonizing, yet needed to be said and it was sad to comprehend he sincerely hoped their paths would not cross again.
It was only then that Clark realized his front door was still open.
