Missing Lois - TOC Author’s Note: I have altered the timeline of the show twice in this chapter. First, by extending the length of Lois’s murder trial (to months instead of days) and secondly, by moving Tempus’s John Doe Presidential election bid to its correct spot - after “Ghosts” and around the time of “Stop the Presses” (i.e. November 1996).
Story Notes: Just a reminder, Lois and Alt. Clark have told Alt. Sam Lane that she is really a Lois Lane from another dimension. She calls her Clark, Kal, to lessen the Clark-confusion. Everyone else in the alternate dimension (with the exception of Moonbeam/Star) thinks she is Lucy El (wife of Kal El), an old college friend of Alt. Clark's.
Where we left off in Chapter 3: Part 1....“Did either of you think to take your passports with you?”
The smile dropped off of Lois’s face. She turned to Clark. “Why did I encourage you to date her, again?” She didn’t even try to whisper.
Clark rubbed his face. He needed to shave. “Mayson.”
Mayson stood up. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Jones, or whatever your name is. Enjoy your breakfast.” She walked towards the door, pushing past Lois. “Clark. Hall. Now.”
Lois grimaced at him. “Sorry.”
“Clark, I’d like to bend your ear about something when you’re done,” Sam called from the living room as Clark went into the hall.
Mayson closed the door and held up her hand, indicating that she didn’t want him to speak. “Enough, Clark. I’ve had enough. Meet me at Clinton Street in half an hour. And bring the truth with you.” She walked down the hall with a flip of her hand.
Why? Why? Why? Clark rested his head against the door. He had been having such a good morning, too.
Chapter 3: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back - Part 2He opened the door and Lois was standing in the living room, her shirt raised, having her father feel the baby kick.
“Have you felt this?” Sam asked, excitement in his eyes. “Oh, Sweetie.”
“She loves to fly, Daddy. So, I made Clark take me out. Please, don’t be angry at him. It’s all my fault.”
“Why would he be angry with me?” Clark asked.
“Oh, he asked that I not go flying. He’s worried I might fall and hurt the baby.” Lois shoved a pain de chocolat into her mouth. “You’ve got to try one of these, Clark.”
“I’ll have a plain one, thanks,” he said as she went into the kitchen.
“You have a girlfriend?” Sam asked with a raised brow.
Clark glanced over his shoulder at the door with a sigh. “Apparently, that is up for debate.”
“Sorry, I forgot. When the phone rang this morning, I just answered it. It was Mayson wondering if you were here.”
“Great, she’s hunting me down now.”
“When I told her that you weren’t here, she asked to speak with Lucy. She introduced herself as Detective Drake. I didn’t know that she was your girlfriend. So, I told her that Lucy left me a note saying that you had taken her out to get breakfast. ‘Be back soon.’ She took that to mean that she was welcome to wait here for you.”
Clark sat down at the dining room table and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t do it any longer, Lois. I can’t keep lying to her. How can we have a relationship if it’s built on lies?”
Lois set down plates, then brought over the pot of coffee. “Your relationship isn’t built on lies, Clark. Our relationship is built on lies. And because you are trying to protect me, every person we care about in this dimension only knows one clue to our relationship. If they ever got together…”
“How does Kal do it? Lying to everyone. I thought Superman was supposed to stand for Truth?”
Lois put her hand over Clark’s. “Before I figured out that Kal was Superman, he would dash away apparently for no reason and I didn’t know what to think. I knew that he loved me, but I also knew that was keeping something from me. I couldn’t understand how he could do both those things at the same time. So, I know how Mayson feels. It hurts very much when the man you love lies to you. She’s a smart woman, an investigator herself, so when she says knows that you aren’t telling her the truth, understand she might have proof.”
“She said as much just now.”
“It’s still hard for Kal. He hates to lie as much as you do. But he doesn’t want the people he cares about in his life to be targets if the truth came out. So, he ends up using a lot of subterfuge, half-truths and answering questions with questions. When he can tell the truth, he does. As it is now, my parents don’t even know he’s Superman.”
“Really?” Sam asked, sitting down. “You told me first?”
She grinned at him. “You’re my test pilot.”
“How am I doing?”
“Well, on the positive side, you’re still sober. On the negative side, you answer the telephone,” she teased. “Dr. Jones.”
“I thought it might be you, Lucy. When she pounded on the door, demanding that I let her in, I knew I had to tell her something. I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that I’m Lois’s father. So, I told her that I’m Doctor Jones, the doctor friend of Superman’s who looked after you when you had been shot. You had invited me to breakfast.”
“Now, Clark, I trust your decision. If you believe that your relationship with Mayson can survive this, if it is important enough to you to risk everything, and if she is trustworthy enough to keep our secret, then tell her the truth. Should you have any doubts, though…” Lois didn’t finish the sentence.
Clark took a deep breath and sighed. “That’s a lot of ifs.”
“As well it should be…” Lois grinned, touching her belly. “We’re pretty important.”
He polished off his croissant and downed his coffee. “I better be off.” He stood up.
“Clark,” Sam said. “Let’s keep the flying to a minimum, shall we? I don’t know what the atmospheric pressure could do to the fetus.”
“Daddy, the books say I can fly in an airplane through the second trimester. What’s the difference?”
“Wind speed. Weather. Temperature control. But if that’s what the books say, Lucy... Clark, no flying after mid-October. Before then keep it to a minimum. How’s that for a compromise?”
Clark nodded, stepping into the front hall closet and emerging as Superman. “Wish me luck.” He blew out her living room windows like a gale force wind.
***
Superman landed on the roof of his apartment building and scanned through all the nooks and crannies on Clinton Street for photographers. He flew over the roofs of the neighboring buildings. When he considered everything safe and clear, he landed on the secret patio behind his apartment.
Then he scanned his apartment for bugs and cameras. Everyone knew Clark Kent was Superman. So it was possible that someone could find his place and try to listen to his private conversations. He hated to act so paranoid, but anything was possible. Every time Mayson came over, he checked. Reporters, he well knew, were terrible sneaks. Tabloid reporters were even worse, because they had no morals whatsoever. This would be an important conversation and he wanted to make sure it was kept between the two of them.
Clark went into his bedroom and changed out of his blue suit. He threw on some jeans and grabbed a t-shirt; the less like Superman the better. He sighed.
Should he tell her? He liked her. He cared about her. Did he love her? They had only been dating a few months. And it had been a rough few months. He didn’t feel like she trusted him. Of course, that might because he had been lying to her about Lucy. From what Lois told him, women didn’t like it when you lied to them, especially about the other women in your life.
He liked that Mayson liked Clark Kent better than Superman. But she didn’t like Superman at all, which was a problem. Lana hadn’t liked the idea of Superman, either. Was Mayson just another strong, bossy female who told him what to do? Was he still mourning his relationship with Lana with Mayson? What about Lois… his Lois? What if they found her while he was dating Mayson? How would he feel about that?
Shaking his head, Clark went into the kitchen and took the orange juice out of the fridge. His Lois was a dream, a pipe dream really. Mayson was real and she liked him. Or, at least, she used to like him. She was giving him one last shot. What about Kal’s Lois? He smiled. That was fun this morning, flying with her. If only… A knock on the door distracted him enough to spill his orange juice down his shirt. Great.
“Just a minute.” He cleaned up the mess and ran into the bedroom to grab another shirt. He opened the door, shirtless. “Hi Mayson. Sorry about that; I spilled some juice.”
Mayson stared at his bare chest and swallowed. “You spilled?”
“It happens sometimes.” Clark pulled on his shirt and she seemed to catch her breath. “Rarely, but it happens.” He stepped aside to let her in, then shut the door.
Mayson placed her hand on his chest and kissed him. Good sign. She still liked him. “I’ve wondered if it…” She shook her head.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked walking down the steps into living room. “I might still have some orange juice left or I could make some coffee.”
“I’ll take some juice without shirt in it,” she said, then her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Thank you.”
“Ok.” He smiled. “One glass of juice, hold the shirt.”
He returned to the living room and set two glasses of juice on the coffee table. “Mayson, I’ve gotten this feeling that you don’t trust me and…”
Mayson held up her hand and started speaking before he had a chance to sit down. “Clark, I’m a detective. It’s my job to know when someone is lying to me. Is Lucy really Lois Lane, the missing reporter?”
He hadn’t expected that. “No! She only impersonated her back in February during the election.”
“Are you sure?”
Clark nodded, sitting down next to her. “Positive.”
“I ask because Lucy El does not exist and she seems to know a lot about Lois.”
“She’s a good researcher.” He picked up his juice and took a sip.
“Uh-huh.” Mayson obviously did not accept this answer. She picked up her juice. “As I said, Lucy El does not exist. She did not attend Kansas State during the years that you were there, nor the five years afterwards. She has a funky accent that fluctuates between Texan to Southern to sometimes even Memphis to Metropolitan.”
He smiled. Lois had warned him that Mayson was a good investigator.
“I checked your résumé,” she continued. “You never worked at a paper where a large exposé of Lex Luthor was ever done nor have you ever shared a byline with a Lucy El. Before starting at the
Daily Planet you had done mostly freelance work for various different newspapers around the world. Nothing really investigatory in nature, either. Nor had any of the previous editors you worked for ever heard the name Lucy El. I even contacted your former fiancée…”
Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“… Lana Lang and she does not remember ever meeting anyone by the name of Lucy El or ever heard of you speak about such a person. She did share an interesting tidbit about Lois Lane though. It seems that the vixen reporter – her words, not mine – showed up at
The Planet one afternoon, walked straight up to you and kissed you, as if you were more than old friends. You told her at the time you had no idea who she was.” She paused and took a sip of her juice. “So, Clark, are you still going to continue with this charade? Who is that woman?”
“Lucy El,” he replied.
“That man she called ‘Daddy’ is Dr. Sam Lane, Lois Lane’s father, am I not correct?”
“You are.”
“But you are trying to tell me that that woman posing as your college buddy is not his daughter.”
“She is not.”
“She is living in Lois Lane’s old apartment.”
“Yes.”
“Clark! Give me something, here. Why was that man staying at her apartment? Obviously, he lives there.”
Clark thought about how to answer that statement. “Lucy had posed as Lois when she visited earlier this year. That is Lois Lane’s apartment and it’s just a coincidence that she is subletting it. She feels a connection to Lois because of those reasons. So, when she heard that Dr. Lane had run on hard times, she felt like she owed it to Lois to help him out.”
“Really?” Skepticism dripped from that one word. “She doesn’t seem that selfless.”
“Lucy also suggested to me that I should ask you out.”
“That was a joke.”
He shook his head.
“Why?”
“She thought we might hit it off.” He smiled.
Mayson stared at him, waiting for him to say more.
“She vouched for you. That you weren’t another Superman groupie.”
“That’s true.” Mayson laughed. “How did she know?”
Clark raised a shoulder. “She just reads people well. It’s what makes her a good research assistant.”
Mayson shook her head. “She isn’t from the future, is she?”
For a split second, Clark thought Mayson was serious. “Nope.” He smiled. “Not from the future.”
She was not smiling. “Until she arrived here three months ago, Lucy El did not exist. There are no records of a Lucy El having been born anywhere. Gone to school anywhere. Lived anywhere. Ever. She never had a bank account or a credit card. It’s like she appeared out of thin air. Yet, you vouch for her like she is exactly who she says she is.”
“I do. I know exactly who she is. I know her past and why she is in Metropolis and roughly when she’ll return home.”
“She’s leaving?” Mayson looked excited at this prospect.
“Someday, sooner than…” He stopped himself. “Later,” he added. “That is her private business. She felt bad, weighing down our relationship with her baggage, so she has agreed to let me share this information with you. Understand that you cannot share this with anyone without placing her life and mine – Clark Kent’s life as Superman – in grave danger.”
Mayson thought about this. “So, her story, her background has to do with Superman? And if I agree never to tell anyone it would be to protect him?”
“Yes.” He knew this would be a difficult decision for her as she always had treated his Superman persona with thinly veiled contempt. Never had he needed her to understand more that he was Superman and Superman was Clark Kent.
“And by agreeing to protect Superman and Lucy, I am also protecting you, Clark Kent?”
“Exactly.”
Mayson smiled and set her hand on his knee. “I kind of like the prospect of protecting you for a change. I agree to keep private whatever you tell me.”
“Off the record?”
“Off the record,” she agreed.
“What do you want to know?”
“Who is she?”
“Lucy El.”
This infuriated Mayson as he knew it would. “Clark! Ok, if she’s Lucy El, where are Mama and Papa El?”
He took a deep breath. “Dead.”
“Dead? How convenient. And how exactly did they die?” She asked incredulously.
“Lara and Jor-El died when the planet Krypton exploded roughly thirty years ago.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Are you trying to tell me that Lucy El is Superman’s sister?” She stood up. “No. Not for one minute am I buying that story, Clark.”
“Sister-in-law,” Clark corrected her calmly.
Mayson froze. “What?”
“Lucy is married to my twin brother, Kal-El.”
“You have a twin brother?”
He nodded.
“Identical twin?”
He nodded again.
“Wow.” She sat back down.
Clark gave her a moment to process that information. He returned their empty glasses to the kitchen.
“There are two of him,” he heard her mumble to herself and he smiled.
Clark returned to the living room with a couple of bottles of water; he handed one to her. She opened it and took a large gulp.
“Well, that certainly explains a lot.”
He nodded.
“The Kents only had one son, though.”
“Kal grew up on New Krypton,” he explained. He didn’t want to continue lying to her, but he really couldn’t tell anyone else about the alternate dimension or explain to his girlfriend how Lois and Clark were married there.
“New Krypton? I thought everyone died when Superman’s home planet was destroyed.”
“New Krypton is a colony of Krypton.”
She blanched. “So there are more of him.” She took another gulp of water.
“Yes, there are more people like me.”
“Lucy isn’t…”
He smiled. “No, she’s human.”
She relaxed. “How did she meet Kal if he grew up on New Krypton?”
Let’s see if he could fabricate a story on his toes as well as Lois. “He found out about me… about how our parents sent me to Earth as a baby and he came looking for me a couple of years ago. He met Lucy and they fell in love.”
“Are you much alike personality-wise?” Mayson asked. As a detective she was worried about a rogue Superman loose on her planet.
“Lucy says we are, except he has a fondness for junk food.”
Mayson laughed. “That must have been strange, meeting your double.”
Clark sighed. “Actually, I haven’t met him yet.”
“But you said…”
“He had been looking for me. Then he met Lucy and, well, love is a good distraction. She’s the one who found me, last February. She posed as Lois to get close to me and earn my trust.”
“So, you’ve never met this twin brother? You believe this whole crazy story on the word of Lucy El?” Mayson was looking at him at him with pity. Not a good sign. “I’m so glad you told me this. Lucy is obviously some kind of con-artist.”
Laughter escaped Clark’s mouth. He had not expected this rationale. “Ah. No, Mayson. She’s the real deal. I trust her completely.”
Mayson sighed. “Oh, Clark, you are so good and so trusting, you believe everyone else is, too. You lost your parents at an early age and had just broken up with your fiancée. You were alone and this beautiful woman shows up and dazzles you with a story about a long lost brother. Of course, you wanted to believe her. You were an easy mark.”
Great, Kent, fly yourself out of this mess. “Mayson, she knew things about me that only Lana knew and some things that I never told anyone. She knew about Krypton and how I got here as a baby.”
“As I recall, Tempus knew these things too.”
“She has photos of her and Kal.”
“Photos can be faked, Clark. You and I both know that.”
“Fifty of them? They weren’t fakes.” He pointed at his eyes.
“So, she hired a look-a-like. I saw a Superman double at a birthday party recently and even I couldn’t tell the difference until he opened his mouth.”
Clark’s jaw dropped. She actually didn’t believe him. He hadn’t expected that. “You really don’t like Lucy, do you?”
“Never have. There are times when she looks at you…” Mayson shook her head.
“And sees Kal,” he explained.
Mayson leaned back and crossed her arms. “Ok. Where is this husband of hers, anyway?”
“New Krypton. Civil war was breaking out and he went back to see if he could stop it.”
“How noble of him.” Mayson shook her head. “You *still* cannot suppose that she would lie to you.”
“And you cannot believe that she’s telling the truth.”
“Have you given her any money?”
“Just five hundred, when she first got here, to buy necessities.”
“What? Did someone steal her wallet, too? And you got her a job – because you vouched for her – and an apartment, also because you vouched for her. Everyone trusts a person that Superman trusts.”
It was the first time Mayson had ever referred to him as Superman and she did it as she tried not to call him an idiot. Clark took off his glasses and ran a hand over his eyes. “Mayson, have some confidence in me. She has asked me for nothing but my protection.”
Mayson took his hand. “From Lex Luthor?”
“She had some dealings with him in the past that went badly, true… but, no, not him in particular, just in protection in general. And I am happy to oblige, she’s family.”
“No, Clark. She’s a con-artist.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Let me call someone I know in Fraud…”
Clark took her phone out of her hand. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You promised not to tell another person about this.”
“Yes, but that was before I knew she’s a swindler.”
“Mayson,” he said standing up and walking over to his wine rack. He floated up and set her cell phone in the top most slot. He floated back down and stood in front of her with his arms crossed. “You would rather believe that I was duped than that Lucy is who I know her to be.”
“Give me back my phone, Clark.”
“No. I will give you back your phone, when I know you believe me.”
Mayson pressed her lips together. “Ok. I accept as true that you would believe anything she told you because she looks like Lois Lane, the woman for whom you’ve been searching for three years.”
“What?” Was there a billboard on his forehead that he couldn’t see?
“You said yourself that she’s not Lois. Yet, there’s a part of you that thinks of her as that proverbial damsel in distress. You’re always rushing off to help her.”
“Because she my sister-in-law.”
Mayson stood up and patted him on the arm. “You keep telling yourself that, Clark.”
“Mayson, I’m dating you. I care for you,” he said, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “I’m torturing myself in a social hell to keep us out of the tabloids.”
“And, yet, you are in love with the ghost of Lois Lane.”
He froze for a moment and then stepped away. “Is that what you think of me?”
“I’m not blind, Clark. I see how you look at her.”
“And how is that, Mayson?”
“Like you are distracted by love.”
Clark hated it when people threw his words back in his face.
“There could only be two explanations,” she continued. “That she is the Lois Lane who you fell in love with after years of searching for her – even Lana verified this much - but that she does not know you love her, which means you have been lying to me all morning. Or that she’s someone who looks like Lois and you’re looking through her at something or someone else. You readily admit that she is not your missing Lois; therefore, obviously, you cannot accept that Lois is dead and that you could not save her.”
Clark sat down on the sofa and removed his glasses again. He threw them against the wall, shattering them. “No, I could not save her. Just as I could not save my parents from that car accident. Or my birth parents from their early death. This beautiful, talented woman with wits and guts and boldness and the determination to get the story, any story she set her heart on. No, I could not save her. How can I have all these talents and I still cannot save someone as wonderful as her?” He buried his face in his hands.
Mayson sat down next to him and hugged him. “Oh, Clark. I’m so sorry.” She kissed his cheek. He didn’t react. She held him tighter, yet he could hardly feel her. He felt numb. She kissed his cheek, again and again.
Clark turned and pressed a kiss against her lips. This time the kiss was more than pleasant. It was hot and passionate and fiery. Mayson felt it too. She pulled back for a moment and looked him directly in the eyes. He didn’t know what she saw there, but she climbed into his lap and kissed him as he had kissed her. He pulled the hair clip holding her hair away from her face and tossed it to the ground. She tugged on his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. They were floating in mid-air, tangled in an embrace.
“Clark,” she moaned and then slipped down his chest. He caught her and set her down on the floor.
“Were we?” she asked glancing up.
“Sorry,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He floated over to the wine rack, retrieved her phone and returned it to her. “I shouldn’t have lost control. I almost dropped you.”
Mayson tossed the phone onto the coffee table and wrapped her arms around him again. She kissed him, but he didn’t respond. “Clark, I liked that you lost a little control. It’s human.” She took his hand and tugged it toward his bedroom.
“No, Mayson.” He glanced away. “I can’t.”
She kissed his cheek. “Why not? Live a little,” she whispered, kissing over to his ear.
He stumbled backwards to the couch; Mayson landed on top of him. “Tempting though it might be, Mayson. I can’t…” He shut his eyes as she continued to nibble on his earlobe. “Lose control.”
Mayson smiled as she kissed down his neck. His resolve was weakening.
“I know that you like me, Clark Kent,” she whispered. “I’m here and now. Flesh and blood.” She trailed his fingers down her chest. Her skin was soft and slightly damp from perspiration.
“Feel my hot breath.” She blew into his ear. Nice and warm. Tingling.
“Hear my heart beat.” She pulled his head against her chest. Her heart was certainly racing.
“Taste my…” She pressed another passionate kiss to his lips. “Let yourself go.”
They were floating upwards again. He wanted her more than he had wanted anyone since… since that night that Kal had been disintegrated and Lois had kissed him. Oh, Lois! What was he doing? Letting himself live, a voice inside his head told him. But an icy chill had already started dripping down his spine. He pulled Mayson closer. “Live.”
Her phone rang at that moment and they plopped back down on the sofa.
“If that’s Henderson, I’m going to kill him,” Mayson announced, rolling off Clark and reaching for her phone. “This better be good,” she growled to Henderson. “Yes, you are interrupting something, so be fast about it.”
Clark ran to his bathroom and took a thirty second ice cold shower. He dried off in another fifteen seconds and was back on the couch with his jeans, socks and shoes on, just as she had left him another twenty seconds later.
“Sean McCarthy, really.” Mayson glanced over her shoulder from the kitchen table at Clark. He waved. She waved back. “I thought he had gone underground after killing that DEA agent.”
When she turned her back away from him again, he released his breath. He had never lost control like that before. Not even with Lana. Lois had tempted him physically on several occasions and he wondered if she had awakened something carnal inside him. He rubbed his face and realized his glasses were missing. Then, he remembered what he had done to them. He saw the debris on the wall behind his TV. What was wrong with him?
“Ok. I’ll be right there,” Mayson said closing her phone. “Clark?”
“Right here,” he said.
“I was afraid you had left.”
He smiled, stepping up to her and kissing her. “I couldn’t leave.”
“I’ve got to go meet Henderson. My uncle has a cabin in the woods. Do you think you might want to go next weekend? Just the two of us. No interruptions. No cell phone coverage.” She smiled, resting her hand on his bare chest. “I’d even let you fly us there.”
“Deal.” He grinned. “So, we’re good?”
“I’m good. You, we need to work on a little.” She smiled, reaching up to his bare face. “You look different without your glasses.”
“I’m sorry about losing my temper.” He kissed her. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.”
“Truth. It’s a drug. It can cause anger and joy, but most of all it’s also a powerful aphrodisiac.” Mayson kissed him again. “Feel free to use it on me anytime.” One more kiss, then she pulled herself away and up the steps. “I’ve got to go.”
He jogged up to the door. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No, Clark. We’ve had enough trouble with tabloids. I wouldn’t want them to catch you with your shirt off.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “But feel free to forget all your shirts at home next weekend.”
Clark kissed her good-bye and shut the door after her. He jogged back down the steps. Something skittered across the floor. It was her hair clip. He picked it up and ran out to the street. Mayson was just getting into her car.
“Mayson!” he called, waving her hairclip. She didn’t hear him.
Tick! Tick! Tick!
“No!” Clark was at her car door in half a second. “Mayson!”
She stared at him with concern as he ripped off the door to her car. He was pulling her out when the bomb blasted them into the building across the street.
***
Pain de Chocolat - also Pain au Chocolat - essentially a Chocolate filled Croissant -
A simple recipe CommentsChapter 3: Part 3
