Table of contents is here .

LAST TIME ON EMII:

She pulled away for just long enough to whisper, in case he hadn't quite got the message yet, "I love you, CJ Kent."

"And I love you, Lois Lane. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Whatever else he might have said was lost as she reclaimed his mouth.

NOW READ ON...


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT


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Wednesday, 21 May 1997
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CJ was running late, having been delayed at work again. At least, he thought gratefully, he'd managed to get away earlier than Mayson. The earliest either of them had been able to leave the office since Luthor's arrest had been eight thirty, and on that occasion they'd both taken bags full of work home with them. Today, CJ had decided that he deserved a little leisure time and he had consequently been determined to leave by seven. He'd almost managed it, too.

He'd have to hurry if he were to shower, change and pick up Lois in time to make their reservation at Pierre's, a modest French bistro downtown. For a moment, CJ wished he still had his powers; a burst of superspeed would come in handy about now. However, he had to admit, even if he did miss them from time to time, life was a lot simpler without them. His life was quite full – and fulfilling – enough without having to rush out and rescue people at all hours of the day and night.

As he had foreseen, the task of prosecuting Luthor was falling to other people – a task force headed by Mayson Drake, who had handled everything from the arraignment on – but there was plenty of other work to keep him busy. The rescheduled Allen trial was just one thing among many.

CJ unlocked his front door and headed straight into the bedroom. He dumped his briefcase on the bed and quickly stripped down to his boxers. Then he headed into the bathroom. Minutes later, as he lathered himself up then let the water pound down onto his head and back, easing the tension out of his muscles, he found himself musing on the events of the last few days.

With regard to the Luthor investigations, Mayson had taken great pains to seek out his advice on several occasions. That, and the vigour with which she was following up on leads and putting together the cases, gave him hope that this time justice was going to be done. Moreover, she didn't seem to resent him checking up on her at regular intervals. He had, she'd pointed out to him when he'd tried to apologise for his interference, a vested interest in getting a conviction, and she respected that.

Then she'd surprised him by saying that she respected him.

Katherine Cox and Dr Saxon had entered the witness protection programme, and moves were underway to extradite Jules Johnson back to the United States. CJ was optimistic that Johnson's bitter desperation would persuade him to make a deal.

Monica Carnes was showing no inclination towards turning on her boss, but that didn't bother CJ unduly. Even without a confession, there was plenty of evidence to incriminate her, what with the tapes of her meeting with Benton and a positive ID from Judith Myerson, not to mention her involvement in the attack on Pagliano. Moreover, Benton had turned out to be a good enough lawyer to want to make the best possible deal for herself; she had almost begged to be allowed to make a statement. Carnes was going to be put away for a long, long time, as would Luthor, himself.

People from all walks of life suddenly seemed to be falling over themselves to make statements or to join in the Luthor investigations. The FBI, the DEA and the IRS were all involved now. Luthor was going down. There was no doubt about it.

CJ glanced down. The last of the soap suds were disappearing down the drain. He turned off the water, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then he set about shaving; he had gone back to using the traditional tools of shaving cream and razor.

The Luthor situation hadn't yet been fully resolved, CJ mused as he carefully ran the razor blade over the contours of his face, but it was progressing enough to lighten CJ's heart and bring a new zest to his work. He was finally practising law as it was meant to be practised, and that energised him in a way that made him recall the heady days of old when, newly qualified, he'd thought he could change the world.

Of course, work was not the only thing that was regenerating him. There was also the matter of Lois, his girlfriend. The woman he wanted to grow old with.

For too long, he'd avoided thinking about the future because it had looked relentlessly bleak, the details obscured in the shadow of his own depression and Luthor's evil. Now, though, the future seemed bright. It was easy to imagine himself advancing into middle, and then old, age with Lois by his side and, perhaps, a couple of children trailing after them.

Although they had talked about quite a few other things, neither he nor Lois had actually talked about their future together yet. He wasn't sure that he wanted to, either. There was an implicit understanding that they would stay together and CJ didn't want to say anything that might contradict that.

CJ ran his fingertips over his jaw, checking that his shave was as close to perfect as he could get it. Then he splashed on some aftershave, finished drying himself off, and headed back into the bedroom to get dressed for this evening's date. He glanced at his bedside clock. If he was quick, he thought, he could make a detour via the flower stall at the bottom of Clinton Street...

*****

It was after seven thirty when Lois arrived back at her apartment. She juggled her bags as she wrestled with the door locks, then held the door open with her foot while she got everything inside. Maybe it was an unwarranted indulgence, but she had gone shopping on the way home from work, wanting to pick up some new clothes and have a manicure. She knew it was ridiculous; she knew the feeling would wear off with time as their relationship matured, but she experienced a need to dress up for CJ. Even though she knew he thought she'd look good dressed up in garbage sacks and with no make-up, she still wanted to look her best for him. It wasn't, she told herself, because she felt insecure – although she was being a little dishonest when she denied it – but she simply wanted to go that extra mile to please him, to give him pleasure. And, why not, when he went so far out of his way to please her?

Besides, sometimes it felt good to pamper herself, to indulge her feminine side. It had been quite a long time since she'd had an excuse to do so to quite this extent.

Perry was right, she thought, as she secured the door behind her. Having a boyfriend was good for her. It made her ache with happiness, and that happiness showed outwardly in extra colour in her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye, and a desire to smile at everything, no matter how mundane. Happiness gave her energy, adding zest to life and to her work.

Oh, she had it bad for CJ Kent! But then, she thought, he had it equally bad for her, too. One glance around the apartment was proof enough of that. She wondered how long it would be before CJ grew tired of bringing her flowers. Then again, maybe he wouldn't; he did seem to like flowers, himself, and, after all, hadn't he seen fit to bring her roses even before romance had risen up their mutual agenda?

Lois smiled as she toed off her shoes, abandoning them on the floor next to her shopping bags.

CJ had graduated quickly from the red-and-white "partnership" roses of their first evening together to all red ones. He didn't need to tell her anything about the depth of his feelings because the flowers spoke of them eloquently enough, but he did so, anyway. CJ, Lois was discovering, was a true romantic, with the soul of a poet. It was a pity, she thought, that he'd gone into law. He would have made a terrific romance writer.

She switched on the television on her way to the kitchen, letting the sound of LNN follow her as she grabbed a soda from the fridge.

"... following the recent revelations in the Daily Planet, today the New Troy Environmental Council ordered LexChem to take immediate action to clean up five of its plants. The company – subsidiary of the currently beleaguered LexCorp – has been ordered to take remedial action against the polluting discharges. Dioxins, which the US Environmental Protection Agency has described as presenting a serious threat to public health, have been detected in the river at fifty times above state safety standards. Dioxins are carcinogenic, and have also been associated with reproductive disorders and developmental problems. PCBs have also been found..."

It was good to see, Lois thought remotely, that LNN's cow-towing attitude to its parent company had done an abrupt U-turn. She would have smiled, were it not for the seriousness of the report. The city and state would be mopping up after Luthor for years to come.

Lois turned her attention away from the broadcast. It wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know, after all. Her thoughts drifted back to her current favourite topic: CJ.

A great deal, Lois decided, could happen in just a few weeks.

Since the opening of the Allen trial, Lois had had one brush with death, had met an alien (although she still had a hard time thinking of CJ in those terms), had helped bring down the nation's most evil criminal mastermind and had met the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Despite having heard the words "Pulitzer" and "Kerth" being whispered in connection with her recent string of headline-grabbing exposes, it was the last of these that brought her the most satisfaction.

She and CJ had gone out on a couple of proper dates now – they'd even gone to Asabi's once – and they were due to go on another this evening, CJ having promised to take her to dinner and a movie. The promise of what might then happen had lingered unspoken in the air. Lois was hoping that CJ would want to come up for... coffee... afterwards. Given that they'd now left toothbrushes in each other's bathrooms, Lois doubted that she would have much trouble persuading him.

She smiled at the thought.

She suddenly realised, thanks to her shopping spree, she was running late. She took another swig of her soda, then abandoned it on the kitchen counter.

"... breaking news: Lex Luthor has escaped from Metropolis' Prison, where he had been remanded in custody following..."

Lois froze, one foot in the air. She felt her heart leap into her throat, which was odd because all her blood seemed to have fled from her head straight to her feet, by-passing her heart entirely. Carefully, she put her foot down, then she turned to stare at the screen, open-mouthed.

Some remote part of her mind took the time to recognise the reporter as Robby Roberts.

"... Police sources say that, although it is unclear just how Luthor was able to escape, it is unlikely he could have done so without inside help. The prison governor was unavailable for comment."

Lois shivered. Well, of course Luthor would have had help. She was not so naïve as to suppose that all his lackeys had changed their allegiances since his arrest and arraignment. There were still enough bad guys out there to satisfy Luthor's needs, no matter how much she might wish otherwise.

"Luthor, who has been implicated in countless crimes, ranging from perverting the course of justice, racketeering and even homicide, is believed to still be in the Greater Metropolis area. If you see Luthor, do not approach him. Instead, call the police..."

Did CJ know about this? Given the way Luthor had threatened them as he had been arrested, she doubted that either of them could be safe while Luthor was on the loose. Maybe it wouldn't help, but right now she wished that they were together.

She couldn't wait until their date to speak to him. She needed him now. Her feet feeling numb, she stumbled over to the phone, picked up the handset, and dialled CJ's number from memory. However, just as the phone began to ring at the other end, a rich, urbane voice laced with menace said from behind her, "Put the phone down. Now."

*****

It was a beautiful evening. The oppressive midday heat had waned, and the street temperature was now such that walking was actually a pleasure. The sky had paled to a light, almost off-white, shade of blue and the few fine wisps of cirrus cloud were tinged with pink. CJ knew that dusk was just around the corner.

At the corner of Clinton Street, Frank Donnelly was in the process of packing up his stall for the day but he stopped as soon as he caught sight of CJ. He waved a cheerful greeting and called out, "Evening Mr Kent!" His cheerfulness was magnified by the fact that he was a rotund man with ruddy cheeks and a thatch of white curly hair; he looked like Santa's twin brother, minus the beard. Indeed, early on in their acquaintance, he had confessed to CJ that he spent the latter part of November and most of December working as a department store Santa; it was, he said, better than working the stall during some of the coldest weeks of the year.

"Hi, Frank." CJ grinned at him. "I'm not too late, am I?"

"Nah." Frank shook his head. "You're just in time. Got some great chrysanthemums, if you're interested."

CJ made a face, unenthusiastic. "Got anything else?" he asked.

"Not a fan, huh? Freesias? No? Roses, then."

"Roses are always good," agreed CJ, and he got out his wallet to find the money to pay for them.

Frank searched around, picking out the freshest bunch of blood red roses that he could find, commenting as he did so that "She's a lucky girl, whoever she is. And if you keep up buying all these flowers you'll be my best customer!" He laughed, and CJ joined in. It was true that he had bought several bouquets in the last few days. The thing was, he liked giving presents to Lois. He liked the way her eyes lit up when he did so, the way her cheeks flushed with pleasure, the way she ducked her head, the way her lips stretched into a smile...

He liked the way she kissed him to say thank you.

They completed the transaction, bade each other good night, and then CJ went on his way.

*****

The hair on the back of Lois's neck stood on end. She didn't need the speaker to know who it was.

Lex Luthor.

Here.

In her apartment.

If she had felt shocked before, it was nothing to how she felt now. She felt faint, horrified... heaven alone knew what. All she could think of was that Luthor had come to make good on his threats.

"Put. The. Phone. Down."

This time Lois did as she was told, slowly lowering the handset into its cradle.

"Good girl. Now, turn around slowly."

She moved, as commanded, to face the direction from where the intruder's voice was coming: the doorway to her bedroom. How had he got in here, anyway? Had she left a window open? She didn't think so, but she wasn't sure. Had her landlord let him in? She didn't know. And, she supposed, it really didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was here now.

Luthor stepped out of the shadows. His hair was tousled and his chin was rough with bristles. He'd acquired some casual clothes from somewhere to replace his prison garb, but the jeans he was wearing were faded and frayed, and there was a hole in the sleeve of his T-shirt. Yet somehow, his uncharacteristic appearance made him seem more menacing, not less.

Most alarming, though, was the gun he held unwaveringly in his right hand.

"Sit down," he said, gesturing towards one of the love seats.

Again she did as she was told.

His eyes were cold and uncompromising; there was no hint of mercy in them. Lois had no doubt that he was going to kill her. An odd kind of resigned resolve mingled with her panic.

A thought skittered across the edge of her consciousness. If he was going to kill her, why he hadn't done so already?

She stared wide-eyed at him, waiting for him to say something – do something – that might give her a clue as to his intentions.

His mouth twisted angrily. "Well?" he snarled. "Aren't you going to beg for your pitiful life?"

"Would there be any point?" she replied. She felt oddly detached from the situation, almost as though she was outside it, not a participant. How else could she explain the way her voice sounded so normal? Shouldn't it be shaking and tremulous? Surely she shouldn't merely sound irritated?

Luthor snorted. Then the merest hint of a sarcastic smile played around his lips. "Probably not," he admitted. "You've hurt me, and you've got to pay for that. You and that self-righteous boyfriend of yours." Then the snarl was back in his voice. "Do you know what they're calling you? 'Lois Land and CJ Kent: the Hottest Team in Town'!" Luthor spat the words out venomously.

Lois didn't move. Yes, she knew. But she didn't want to provoke Luthor by admitting it.

Luthor's eyes narrowed. "Your boyfriend... Kent." Keeping the gun trained on her, he edged around the room, working his way towards the telephone.

"What are you doing?" Lois couldn't help asking the question as she saw Luthor pick up the handset. He jammed the receiver between his shoulder and his ear, ready to dial one-handedly, while holding the gun with the other.

Like Lois, Luthor had heard the tremor in her voice that the mere mention of CJ had engendered. His grin was feral when he said, "You don't like this, do you?"

Lois forced herself to keep her mouth closed.

"Do you?! Answer me!"

Lois shook her head, a sharp, jerky movement. She didn't know precisely what Luthor had in mind, but it clearly involved CJ, and that couldn't be good. She felt fear swelling in her breast, squeezing her lungs so she had trouble breathing.

Luthor began pressing buttons. Then he waited while the phone at the other end of the connection rang. Lois watched. Clearly the first number yielded no answer. He had more luck on his second attempt, however. The logical part of Lois's brain snapped into gear, and she realised two things. First, Luthor had obviously managed to access some less than public databases to have obtained CJ's unlisted number. Second, he must also have got hold of CJ's mobile phone number because, if CJ was between home and her place, how else could Luthor have contacted him, and where else would CJ be?

Lois listened to Luthor's side of the conversation, her throat tightening, her palms sweating and her skin crawling with fear. From time to time she could hear the squawking sounds of CJ's shocked protests and aborted replies.

"Kent. I don't need to tell you who this is. I'm at Lois's. ... No. Don't say anything. Just listen. Don't even think of calling the police. I'll know if you do. If I hear one whisper that the police are coming, your girl will be carrion. ... What do I want? Why, Mr Kent, I thought you were smarter than this. Isn't it obvious? What I want is you. Here. Now." And with that he slammed the phone down.

Luthor was sporting that feral grin again, his eyes glinting maliciously as he looked at Lois.

Before she had thought him evil, but rational. Now, for the first time, she found herself questioning his sanity.

"Now," he said, "we wait."

TBC