Perry often came to work on Saturday morning just to make sure everything was fine for the weekend, and today was no different. Eight o’clock found him at his desk reviewing the Sunday supplement. Breaking news still got priority coverage, of course, but many of the Sunday-only features and sections were set up on Thursday or Friday by assistant editors. They were competent and they knew their jobs, of course, but the general editor still checked their work just to make sure. And because his assistants were so good at their jobs, Perry usually didn’t have very much to do on Saturday.
Today was one of those days, so the boss took the opportunity to lean back and scan his domain. Not many people were in the office this morning, but he did see Steve Lombard in sports talking on the phone. He was probably trying to get some inside info on the high school basketball game last night. The Albany Prep Giants had enjoyed a big lead late in the second half, but had lost it to the visiting South Metro High Bears on an unlikely late-game comeback.
He watched Jimmy trot by on some errand. That young man has grown up a lot lately, Perry mused. Maybe it was time he got a raise and more responsibility.
The editor smiled as he saw Cat Grant stride past, intently reading a fax she’d just received. The girl – no, the young woman – had come back from California just five months ago, full of purpose and drive and sporting a somewhat more modest wardrobe. And she’d stopped flirting with every male human she saw. Cat had worked hard and remade herself into a real reporter, and she contributed significantly to the Planet’s circulation. She and Clark had made a good team when they’d worked together on a story. She wasn’t as good as Lois had been, but no one else was, either.
No one else could be, Perry thought. He still missed her terribly.
He was glad that Clark seemed to have gotten past the worst of his grief. According to Bill Henderson, having that lady detective in his circle of friends was a good thing for both Clark and the lady.
Speaking of Clark, there he was.
Perry watched Clark leave the elevator and saw immediately that something was wrong. The young man stopped at the top of the ramp, glanced at Lois’ old desk – now Cat’s desk – sighed, then trod heavily down to the lower level and the coffee machine.
Instead of pouring a cup, he just looked at the empty mug in his hand and sighed again. Then he walked to his desk and put the mug down. He all but flopped down into his chair, turned on his computer, and sat staring at the logon screen, his face a mask of hurt and disappointment.
That man could not hide his emotions any more than a dove could hide its wings.
This was bad. It was as if he’d regressed to a state almost like the one he’d suffered through after Lois had died. He looked like he was in pain, suffering a loss of some sort.
Then Clark leaned forward and began typing. At least he was working, Perry mused.
*****
Inspector Henderson leaned against the wall beside the precinct break room and smiled at the desk sergeant, who was seated in the break room with a fresh cup of java. “That was some game last night, huh, Sarge?” Bill said.
“Yeah,” Zalinski answered. “I thought the Bears were done for, but they won! How far behind were they?”
“Eighteen points with nine minutes left in the game, and their top point guard had fouled out.” Bill shook his head and smiled.
Zalinski sipped his coffee, then blew on it once. “Some comeback. That’s got to be a record of some kind, Inspector.”
“I don’t know if it is, but that comeback will be on the local sports segments for the rest of the week. The talking heads won’t be able to stop yakking about it.”
They paused as the back door to the precinct house opened and Detective Roberta Tracey walked in like an exhausted weightlifter. Zalinski lifted his cup and said, “Good morning, Detective.”
Without glancing at him, Tracey grunted something inarticulate and turned toward her desk. Bill looked at the sergeant. The sergeant looked at Bill. They widened their eyes at each other.
“What’s with her?” said Zalinski.
Bill frowned and put down his own cup. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
*****
Bobbie sat at her desk and began shuffling papers without actually looking at them. She needed to call Clark. She didn’t want to, but she needed to. It would be worse if she just didn’t show up at his place for dinner.
But there were reasons she shouldn’t call him now. It was barely eight o’clock, too early to call on a Saturday. He might be sleeping late. It might be a work day for him. He might get mad at her for – for stopping whatever it was that they had started the night before. It was entirely possible that he really was ready to move forward and she was really the coward, using Glen as an excuse to keep her heart from further risk. Maybe he was at the cemetery, apologizing to Lois for putting his lips – those delicious lips – on Bobbie’s.
They weren’t valid reasons, just excuses, and pretty thin ones at that. She’d heard better from suspects as she put the cuffs on them.
Her lips still tingled where they’d touched Clark’s.
She sighed, let the papers fall wherever the air took them, and dropped her face into her hands. Why was Clark so – so wonderful? Why was he such a great guy? Why was she pushing him so hard? Calling a time-out on their relationship would be so much easier if he were a selfish jerk!
No answers presented themselves to her before her boss pulled up a chair and sat down beside her desk. “Good morning, Detective.”
*****
Bill needed to find out if his and Perry’s conspiracy had gone bust. They’d put too much effort into it to just give up at this stage.
Bobbie lifted her head and aimed weary eyes at Bill. “Morning, Inspector.”
He waved his hand in her general direction. “What’s with the long face? You aren’t a horse.”
She huffed at him. “Please, no Sarah Jessica Parker jokes. They are not funny.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bill leaned back in the chair and tilted his head. “What’s going on with you?”
She turned her gaze away and began shuffling the papers again. “What makes you think anything’s going on?”
“Oh, I dunno, maybe it’s because you look like you’ve just lost your best friend.” She stopped moving, not even breathing. Bill continued in a quieter voice, “Is that what happened, Bobbie?”
Bobbie’s eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched, crumpling a burglary report and bending a suspect’s profile folder. “I – I don’t know.”
Bill shifted forward. “Nobody’s around right now. You can tell me. You know I won’t spill any beans.”
She nodded. “I know. It – it’s hard to describe.” Her voice broke as she said, “I think – I think I ran Clark out of my life last night.”
Bill put his hand on her wrist and pressed gently. “How did you do that?”
She tried to stop the tears but couldn’t. “I – I was stupid!” she stuttered. “I was teaching him Te – Texas Hold-Em and I beat him and – and his last bet was short and I told him he could – could make it up with a kiss and – and I kissed him and it – I know it reminded him of Lois and – and I pushed him too far and too fast and too hard and – and I may never see him again!”
Bill squeezed a little harder. “I’m sorry. Is that what Clark said to you?”
Her hair danced on her shoulders as she shook her head. “No! He was really nice and he kissed me back and he put his arms around me and I didn’t say it but I didn’t want him to leave and after he left I realized I – he must think I’m some kind of nympho or something – I was supposed to make dinner for him next week and – it’s not gonna happen and – oh, I’m such an idiot!”
She leaned back in her chair and pulled her arms across her chest and cried quietly. Bill reached out and put the tissue box on her desk directly in front of her. After several deep sobs, she grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose.
Bill leaned back and said, “I’m very sorry, Bobbie. I thought you two were getting along pretty well.”
She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with yet another tissue. “We were. We really were. It was just – it was too good to last.”
He patted her on the shoulder. “May I ask you a personal question?”
She sobbed and chuckled at the same time and Bill thought for a quick moment that she was choking. “Sure,” she said. “Ask me anything.”
“Okay. Exactly what did Clark say to you to convince you he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore?”
“Nothing.” She blew her nose again.
Bill paused a moment, then asked, “He didn’t say anything to make you think what you’re thinking, but you’re convinced he doesn’t want to be around you now?”
“Of course! I pushed him too fast, Bill! He’s still mourning for Lois! He still misses her terribly! He’s not ready for a relationship with me – with any woman! It’s too soon for him and I’ll regret pushing him away for the rest of my life!”
“Huh.” Bill leaned back and thought for a moment. Bobbie’s thought processes were logical, but the premise on which they were based was a thin one. Kent would not kiss a woman just to settle a bet. He had to have enjoyed it. He might have been surprised, but assuming Bobbie’s narrative was accurate, she didn’t trap him into that kiss. He’d walked into it with his eyes open.
Probably closed them while he kissed her, though.
Bill pushed that bit of feeble humor out of his mind. “Detective, I’m going to ask you to do something. I can’t order you to do this because your personal life is your personal life, not mine. But if your personal life intrudes on my squad room like it has today, I’m going to say something. I’ve got to, because this will affect the efficiency of the entire squad if it’s not resolved pretty soon. You ready?”
She sniffed and looked at Bill’s shoes. “Yeah. Go ahead.”
“It sounds to me like you’ve made up this whole thing in your head but you don’t really have any idea if it’s true or partially true or if you’re justifying your own fear or if you’re just deluding yourself. You need to talk to Kent and find out what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.” Bill leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “I can’t have you moping around the station all day. I need you on my team, need you out there investigating, need you picking up the other guys when they’re stuck.
“You can’t do that if you’re too distracted to focus. You’ve been doing an excellent job for the last few months and you’ve made yourself into a valuable team member. You can’t backtrack into a shell, not now.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know. And I don’t want to hurt the team. I just – I guess I’m more fragile than I thought I was.”
“Okay.” Bill sat back and crossed his arms. “I’m going to call the department shrink and ask her if you can get in a quick session this morning, even if it’s just half an hour. You need to listen to someone you trust on this.”
Mouse-quiet, she whispered, “I trust you, Bill.”
“I know. And I appreciate the vote of confidence. But I’m not the best counselor for you right now. You go talk to Doc Penny and see what she says, okay?”
Bobbie opened her sad eyes and nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to her.”
“Good. Now, see if you can make some sense out of one of those cases on your desk while you’re waiting.”
*****
Cat leaned back in her chair and smiled. Another article finished, sent to Perry, and ready for publication. She was sure he wouldn’t kick it back for another rewrite this time. The man was hard and firm, but he was also honest and caring. None of his critiques of her were personal – they were all aimed at making her a better writer and reporter.
And she appreciated his concern. She often recalled their conversation when he’d officially brought her back on board.
~~~~~
“You do know that you’re coming on to fill Lois’ spot on the team, right?”
“I do, Perry. And I promise you that I’ll do my very best to make you – and Lois – proud of me.”
He’d sighed. “Look, Catharine, no one expects you to change your personality or your life to replace Lois Lane. No one could do that. For that matter, if you’d died, Lois couldn’t have taken your place. No one ever really replaces anyone else. The best you can do is to pick up the baton and keep on running the race the other person started. But you’ll never replace her because you can’t. Your stride is different, your overall speed isn’t the same, and your methods of dealing with obstacles are different. And that’s fine. In fact, that’s the way it should be.”
He’d leaned closer. “That doesn’t mean you can’t learn something from your predecessor. Study her, learn from her, pick up anything from her that you can use. But I want to make a promise to you right now. I will never ask you to become Lois, not in any way, shape, form, or fashion. You just be the best Catharine Grant you can be, and we’ll get along like peanut butter and fried banana sandwiches in the King’s kitchen.”
~~~~~
He’d kept his word, too. He’d never referred to Lois as someone Cat should emulate. He’d never suggested that she change her writing style to mimic Lois’. He’d never implied that Cat should behave as Lois had.
And it had worked out well. She’d picked up a couple of Lois’ old snitches and learned to cajole them into cooperation, as opposed to Lois’ usual method of steamrolling them. She’d even developed two of her own sources, one in the MPD and one in the DA’s office, people from whom Lois had never gotten so much as the time of day. All in all, she’d succeeded Lois ably without assuming all of her various roles.
That included Lois’ role of girlfriend with Clark Kent.
Clark had greeted her sincerely, if quietly, when she’d returned, and it appeared to her that he was starting to open up and live once again. She’d made a concerted effort to be friendly but not butt into his life, or even into his personal space. And it seemed to be the right tack to take with him. He’d taken to smiling at her in the office and exchanging greetings with her. They told each other occasional jokes, and they’d worked well together on a couple of bigger stories where Perry had put them together to gather information more efficiently.
Today, though, he hadn’t even acknowledged her existence. He’d sat at his desk, staring past the monitor as if his mind were somewhere in outer space. He’d seemed so engaged lately, so alive and alert and almost happy again. She hadn’t dared to ask him for details, but there had been rumors of a girlfriend, a police detective with a tragic past similar to Clark’s who seemed to have put the light back in his eyes.
That light wasn’t shining this morning, and it wasn’t just because he was tired.
Could that relationship be the problem? If so, maybe she could help him fix it.
But did she dare?
She remembered how she’d just about clawed him when he’d first come to work, how at times he’d all but crawled after Lois and at other times had stood his ground and successfully tamed the worst of her excesses, how his heart had broken when Lois had accepted Luthor’s proposal, how broken they’d both seemed after Luthor had killed himself.
She hadn’t stayed around to watch them work past that two-thousand-pound gorilla. The story she’d gotten from Jimmy was that he’d stayed with her, had remained a loyal and fierce friend, and had loved her as much as she’d allow. From what she’d heard from others in the office, he’d nearly won Lois over.
Then she’d died.
It was tragic, both for him and for the Daily Planet.
And for Cat, too. She no longer had Lois as a target on whom she could vent her frustrations and insecurities. Lois’ professional accomplishments were now a goal Cat could strive to reach. The woman had set the bar high, and Cat was determined to get there.
But she didn’t have to step on anyone to do it.
She’d offer Clark some gentle counsel, a listening ear, a sympathetic friend. If he chose not to accept it, she’d go on. But she couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore a friend in need.
She stood and walked to his desk. “Clark?” He didn’t respond, so she put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Clark?” Still nothing. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Clark, come in please. Comm check. Do you read?”
He blinked a few times, then looked up at her as if returning from a long, strange trip. “What – Cat? What is it?”
“You looked like you were in an old Outer Limits episode. You know, the old black-and-white TV show where they controlled what you saw and what you heard?”
He stuttered a breathy laugh that wasn’t completely fake. “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I was absent without leave.” He took a deep breath and faced her with some life in his eyes. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Cat put on the most serious face she could call up. He mustn’t misunderstand her intentions, not now. “Actually, I wanted to ask if there was something I could do for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Like what?”
She shook her head. “I think we need to step into the conference room.” At his wary look, she added, “Just as a friend, honest. You look like you could use one right about now.”
He rubbed his cheeks with both hands, then nodded. “Okay. I think I could stand talking to someone.”
She allowed herself a small smile. “Good. Is now a good time for you?”
He smiled without humor and stood. “Sure. Let’s rip off the bandage and see how bad the damage really is.”
As Cat led him to the conference room, she thought about what he’d said and hoped she hadn’t stuffed more bubble gum in her mouth than she could chew.
*****
Cat sat at the end of the table as Clark took the seat just around the corner from her. She clasped her hands in front of her and started. “Look, I want you to know what I’m doing here and why I want to talk to you. I’m not trying to hit on you or offer you any kind of physical comfort. I just – I see my friend hurting, and I want to help him because he’s a good man and a good friend to me.”
He nodded slowly. “I see. What kind of help do you think this guy needs right now?”
She pressed both lips between her teeth for a moment, then said, “The relationship kind.”
He nodded again. “I take it that you’ve heard about Bobbie?”
“If Bobbie is the lady detective you’ve been seeing for the past few months, yes.”
“She is. And would it offend you if I told you that this is none of your business?”
Her head tilted to one side and she turned toward him in her chair. “But it is my business, Clark. You’re my friend. You’ve been very good to me since I came back, and those stories we worked together were just about the best times I’ve had since Perry rehired me. You’re a valuable asset to the paper, you’re a fantastic resource for me when I have questions or concerns about what to put in and what to leave out, and I count you as a close friend.” She sat up straight. “So if you absolutely insist that it’s none of my business, I’ll accept that, but I’ll also know that you’re wrong.”
He looked into her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, I admit it, I have a problem. I need – I think it’s best that Bobbie and I break up and I don’t want to make the call.”
After a three-count, Cat crossed her arms and leaned back. “I notice that you did not say, ‘I want to break up with Bobbie.’ You said only that you think it’s best. I assume that’s a deliberate word choice?”
He worked his mouth and looked away, then said, “Yes,” in a quiet voice.
“Okay. It also sounds to me as if this isn’t your preferred choice, that you’re considering breaking up with her because you think she wants to.”
He nodded without looking at her. “That’s about it, yeah.”
“Okay, one more, and this might hit a hot button, so just remember that I’m not trying to push you. I’m just looking for information. Ready?” She waited until he nodded, then she asked, “Are you concerned about what Lois might have thought about you and another woman? Specifically what she might have thought about you and Bobbie?”
He glanced her way, then lowered his head and almost grinned. “No. I’ve made my peace with how Lois might react. I really think she’d be happy that I’m recovering, so that’s not a problem for me.”
Cat frowned, thinking, then leaned forward and put one hand on his arm. “Then may I ask you something? As a friend who’s focused on your well-being? As someone who cares about you on a personal level?”
He turned to look at her. “Yes, of course.”
She took a breath and let it out slowly, then asked, “Clark, have you been taking stupid pills lately?”
His eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. “Wh-what? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that you sound like you’ve made a decision without finding out what Bobbie wants or what she thinks about your relationship. Have you asked her if she wants to move forward? Have you asked if your history with Lois is a problem for her? Have you talked with her about anything in her past that might have an impact on the two of you together? Have you gathered all the information you need to make this decision for the two of you? Because it doesn’t sound like it from where I sit.”
Clark’s mouth closed and his eyes narrowed. “Cat, I appreciate that you’re concerned about me. I’m glad you’re trying to be a good friend. I’m pleased that you’re taking this interest in me.” He deliberately pulled his arm away from her hand, then stood slowly and stared down at her. “But understand this: I don’t have to justify my relationship decisions to anyone but myself. I am the only one who can weigh all the factors involved, because no one else has all the necessary information. I thank you for your concern, but your assistance in this matter is not needed.”
With that, he walked out of the room and left the door open.
Cat took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose. The conversation between Clark and Bobbie won’t end well, she mused. And I’m not waiting around to pick up the pieces.
She needed to touch base with Perry, then she had some grocery shopping to do. Christie Powell from advertising was coming over for dinner, and Cat wanted to try that new Martha Stewart chicken recipe this evening.
As much as she wanted to help Clark, her life and other friendships weren’t going to crash and burn because he didn’t want to listen to her.
*****
Just after ten-fifteen, Clark ran out of busywork. He pushed back from his desk and blew out a long breath, then he stretched out his arm and picked up the phone. It was time to step on the land mine and let the explosion happen.
He put the receiver to his ear and didn’t hear a dial tone. “Huh. Now what?”
“C-Clark? Is – is that you?”
“Bobbie?”
“Yes. I didn’t hear a ring. What – what happened?”
He couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I think we must have had the same idea at the same time and called each other simultaneously. I picked up the phone after your call connected but before my phone rang.”
Her deep breath came through the connection. “Yeah, that has to be it. Um – since you called me, do you want to speak your piece first?”
Good question. He did but he didn’t. Saying what he’d planned to say would feel like what he imagined a normal person would feel with one hand deep in the garbage disposal as another person flipped the switch on.
He chickened out.
“No. You actually called me first, I think, so you go ahead. Ladies first, remember?”
“Sure.” She paused as Clark reflected that she didn’t sound enthusiastic about the content of this conversation. Then she said, “Um – I’ve been thinking.”
He waited for a moment, then said, “Thinking about what?”
“Uh – about – about last night.”
He waited another moment. “What do you think about last night?”
The sound of another deep breath rattled through the phone line. “I – I think – man, this is hard to say. Especially to you. I kinda don’t want to but I feel like I have to.”
He waited for her to continue for yet another moment while thinking that she was going to hit the circuit breaker on whatever it was that happened the night before. It made him deeply sad, even though he’d planned to say basically the same thing to her.
“Clark? Are you still there?”
He closed his eyes and for a brief moment considered just hanging up, then said, “Yes. I’m still here.”
“So – what do you think?”
“Bobbie, you haven’t said what it is you don’t want to say but feel you must.”
“Oh. Yeah, I – I guess I didn’t.”
“Not yet. Can you tell me what you need to say now?”
He heard what sounded like a choking noise, then she said, “I – I think we should push the pause button on – on whatever our relationship is. On wherever it’s going.”
Clark closed his eyes for a long moment. She’d said it. And it hurt. Didn’t much matter that he’d planned to say the same thing to her. She’d said it first.
And he couldn’t hurt her back. It would be wrong.
“Bobbie? I – I’m pretty sure I agree with you, that we shouldn’t move forward at this time.”
She went silent for a long two seconds, then spoke in a clear and controlled voice. “You agree with me?”
He hesitated, then answered, “Yes. I agree. I think it’s probably for the best.”
Her voice stayed clear and controlled. “I see. In that case, I probably shouldn’t make dinner for you at your place next week.”
Clark licked his lips. This hurt even more than he’d thought it would. “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“No, it wouldn’t. And now, I think I should say goodbye and wish you well.”
“I wish you well too, Bobbie. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. Catch you at a crime scene soon.”
He tried to chuckle but it came out almost dismissive. “Sure.” He paused, then softly said, “Have a good life, okay?”
He heard her breath catch, then she said, “Thanks. You too. You deserve a good life.”
“So do you.” They were both silent for almost four seconds. “Goodbye, Bobbie.”
“Goodbye, Clark.”
He settled the handset in the cradle. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes.
He told himself it was a mutual decision. They’d gone too far too fast and she’d gotten scared. And she’d had every right to end it between them. He’d pushed her too much, expected from her more than she had to give him.
He deserved the pain he felt. He’d earned the heartbreak and the grief over yet another disastrous relationship. Maybe she wouldn’t hate him too much.
He wondered how long it would take for him to stop missing her, and how long his heart would feel broken.
It suddenly struck him that they’d never made any plans for Christmas. Neither of them had even mentioned any thoughts to the other on the subject. He didn’t realize how much he’d hoped she’d spend Christmas with him until she – wasn’t going to.
Maybe they’d never spend Christmas together.
*****
Bobbie listened to the phone until Clark hung up. She felt almost desperate to hear something from him, anything from him, despite the fact that she obviously didn’t mean as much to him as he meant to her.
If only he’d said that he cared. If only he’d said that there might be a chance for them. She would have waited for him. She would have loved him at arm’s length, from across the room, from the next block, if only he’d said—
Well. Now he never would say it, not even if she said it first. And she’d never say it to him now, now that there was no hope.
She loved him. He didn’t love her. Or maybe he did love her, just not as much as she loved him, not enough to either get angry or ask her to reconsider. He’d just let her cut the cord. No protest, no objection, no discussion. Like tossing your lunch wrapper into the trash. It tasted good, but it’s all done now.
Didn’t matter who he was or wasn’t. Didn’t matter whether or not he had a part-time job in a clown suit. Didn’t matter how good a reporter he was. He’d crushed her heart like an empty soda can.
She’d made the call hoping that she wouldn’t hurt him too deeply. Ha! What a laugh. He obviously wasn’t hurt too badly. He’d get over her soon enough.
She only hoped she could get over losing him.
Already she missed him desperately.
