A/N – So yeah, the “ending” posted on April 1st was only a joke. Sorry for upsetting anyone! Here's the next segment, and hopefully it'll be good enough to make up for the fake-out. 
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Part 15-B“Are you sure about this?” Clark muttered, adjusting his glasses.
The pile of blankets on Michel's sofa bobbed its head once. This “disguise” probably wouldn't have worked anywhere else, but given that there was already a nearly person-sized pile of laundry on a nearby armchair, it might just stand a chance.
“Okay,” he said with a sigh, then opened the door wide.
The woman on the other side glared at him through eyes rimmed with black streaks of mascara. “Well!” she huffed, “It's about time you answered your door!” She drew herself up to her full height and strode into the apartment, a manila folder gripped tightly in one hand. “That walking pile of excrement took everything!”
Clark glanced nervously at the pile of blankets. Was he supposed to know who she was talking about? He shut the door and turned to face the fuming redhead. “Er, I'm so sorry?” he tried.
The woman—Susanne, he remembered—stared at him, aghast. “You're sorry?! Michel, you don't understand!”
“Um...” Clark began.
“It's all my fault!” Susanne wailed, plunking herself down in one of the kitchen chairs. “Oh, Michel, it was supposed to be such a wonderful surprise! I just wanted to cheer you up because of that injuncti—er, I mean, that illness, that your aunt had.” She waved the folder while she spoke. “So, I ran some tests on your radioactive meteor, for you.”
Clark's eyebrows shot up. “You know about that thing?!” he exclaimed.
Susanne frowned at him. “Er, yes? You do remember that discussion, don't you?”
“Of—of course I do,” he stammered, glancing once again at the un-helpful pile of blankets. It might have been his imagination, but he thought the blankets had the grace to feel embarrassed about not mentioning this, before. “So, you were saying?” he prompted, settling into the seat across from her.
Susanne snorted. “Only that, while I was working with it, Phillipe blundered in and demanded to know what I was doing!” She flung a hand out. “So I said, 'oh, do you not recognize a secret government project when you see one, or did the lack of lacey undergarments on it throw you off?' and then he—” Susanne broke off, casting a look at Clark as though she'd suddenly remembered his presence. “Well, we argued, and he left, and I thought that was the end of it. Until this morning, when he suddenly called me up, gloating that he was accepting a wonderful new job in Metropolis! When I got to work, all of the samples I took were gone, and so was most of my data!”
Clark's eyebrows shot up. “Did you say Metropolis?”
“Of course, even if we really were working for the government,” she lamented, leaning an elbow on the table, “it's not as if those stupid Americans would give it back! They probably already have their official denials ready to be mailed out.” She snorted.
“Did...Phillipe...actually say he was working for the government?” Clark asked, worried. “Er, the American government, I mean?”
Susanne sighed. “No, but you're missing the point, Michel! I had done so much work analyzing that meteorite, uncovered so much fascinating data, and now everything is gone!”
Clark nodded understandingly, even as paranoia began to crawl along his neck. “That must be very frustrating,” he said. He paused. “Do you have any idea who he's working for, now? Did he say?”
“Eh, it's useless anyway,” she sighed. She slid the folder toward him. “All I have left is these few notes I was going over at home. Of course, there's not much here, but...look.”
Clark reluctantly took the folder from her, opened it, and scanned the top page. He thought he recognized a couple of abbreviations from high-school chemistry, but for the most part, the configurations of letters and numbers on the paper meant virtually nothing to him.
Susanne was looking at him, expectantly. He also felt a wave of curiosity from the direction of the sofa.
“It's...very interesting,” Clark tried. “Well typed.”
“Did you get to the bottom of the page?” she asked, impatiently.
“Um...” Clark skipped to the bottom. Sure enough, it was just as incomprehensible to him as the rest. Fortunately, it was much easier to read Susanne's expression and infer the reaction she was looking for. “Wow!” he said, injecting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster. “This is...amazing!”
That elicited a smile from her. “So, do you know what this means?”
“Yes,” he lied.
“I drew some of my own conclusions,” she continued, reaching forward and flipping to another page in the folder, “but of course, I don't quite have the same field of expertise as you do. What do you think?”
Clark swallowed. He tried mentally reaching for Michel, only to realize that the man couldn't see anything he was looking at right now, anyway. Perhaps he could somehow justify asking Susanne to read everything out loud? Well, perhaps not. “I think you're right,” he finally announced, falling back on his father's tried-and-true-strategy-for-dealing-with-women. “Yes, you're definitely right.”
That was clearly the right answer, because now, she positively beamed. “I knew it!” she exclaimed.
Clark breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, I suppose you'll want to tell Superman about these findings?” She gave him a strange little smile.
“What?” Clark asked, suddenly confused.
“Well, we are discussing a piece of his home planet,” Susanne explained. “If he's...anything like you...I'm sure he would find this information endlessly fascinating.” Did she just bat her eyes at him? And more importantly...
“Oh! Y-you think this stuff is Kryptonite?” Clark gave a nervous chuckle. “I...thought the Daily Planet explained that Kryptonite didn't actually exist.”
Susanne laughed, giving her head a little shake. “Oh, Michel, don't tell me you believe anything in those silly newspapers!”
He felt himself choke.
“Anyway,” she continued, “if you compare this to what the science journals all reported about the element discovered in Wichita, I'm sure you'll find it's the same.” She frowned. “Right down to its habit of samples disappearing,” she griped.
Science journals? Kryptonite was reported in science journals?!
“Michel,” she said softly, taking him by the hand, “I...can't apologize enough for what happened.”
“Uh...it's...okay,” Clark stammered out, his mind still reeling at the thought that someone in Metropolis now had a large mass of Kryptonite and, quite probably, a good source of information on how to use it. Before he could say anything further, though, Susanne suddenly leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“I will see you at work,” she said, standing. “Oh, and Michelle? You simply must make some effort to tidy your office. It looks as if a bomb had gone off in it!”
TBC
