Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Missing Lois: Chapter 4 - The Rescue of Mrs. Luthor (12/14)

Missing Lois - TOC

Author’s Note: In these next few Parts we meet alt-Lois (If this is a spoiler, sorry). To lessen the confusion between the characters, canon Lois will be addressed as and referred to as ‘Lucy’ until otherwise noted and alt-Lois will be referred to as ‘Lois’. (except in canon dimension, of course. )

Story Notes: This story is mostly set in alt-dimension, although visits to the canon dimension do happen from time-to-time.
- Clark = Alt-Clark unless otherwise noted (such as when we are in the canon dimension, then 'Clark' is canon Clark)
- Lucy El = pregnant canon Lois avoiding the curse by hiding out with alt-Clark, aka Lois's secret identity
- Kal = what Lois-Lucy and alt-Clark call canon Clark
- Lola Luthor = wife of Lex Luthor
- Lois = alt-Lois
- Sam Lane = alt-Lois's Dad, Lois/Lucy's doctor & roommate
- Dr. Bernard Klein = S.T.A.R. Labs scientist and Superman's 'doctor'
- Lex Luthor = no explanation necessary, same bad guy as always, this time bald
- Junior = Lex Luthor, Jr., Lex's first born son, creator of the Neuroscanner
- Jaxon Xavier = Lex Luthor's son and spy at The Planet, does website design and research for the paper
- Asabi = Lex Luthor's body guard and Lola's guard
- Nigel St. John = Lex Luthor's right hand man
- Mrs. Cox = Lex Luthor's administrative and personal assistant

- The only people who know canon Lois's true identity are alt-Clark, Sam, Moonbeam (alt-Star) and now Dr. Klein.

To refresh your memory on Chapter 4: Part 11

***

Part 12

Superman landed in the botanical gardens in Singapore City. It could have seemed hot and humid compared to Metropolis but actually it was comfortable. He sighed. Singapore reminded him of that trip he made to Borneo during that last summer before starting at The Planet. Like Borneo, Singapore was tropical, lush, and beautiful, although definitely a city. Lucy -- he needed to think of Kal’s Lois as her secret identity name from this moment on or become completely confused between the two Loises -- Lucy would love it here.

He shook his head. Stop thinking about her, he told himself. He was here to interview Lex Luthor and to lay out the groundwork for rescuing his Lois. Kal’s Lois, Lucy, should be safe in Kansas, eating good home cooked food and swearing at him for her utter boredom. Clark smiled. She loved him. But she was Kal’s wife and would never, could never be his. He frowned. He needed to forget about her and think about the mission at hand.

Superman slung his garment bag over a tree branch and spun into a business suit. Clark picked up his bag and walked out to the path. He continued to walk the path until he came into the city proper, where he was able to flag down a taxi. Lucy had procured him some Singapore dollars and gotten him a hotel reservation near the venue of the Luthor holiday party.

Clark was worried that his mission might be postponed or interrupted by Mother Nature. He had not liked that weather system he had come across in the Eastern Pacific. He had had to fly high just to avoid the heavy winds and rains. He hoped that the atmospheric pressure hadn’t burst any of his toiletries.

There was lots of activity in the streets. It looked hectic, more hectic than an average day in a city. People were putting wood over their store windows and bringing down the loose items hanging outside. Flags, banners, flower pots. The closer he got to downtown Singapore, the less panic he witnessed. Either the financial powers-that-be had evacuated the city or were not worried in the least. Obviously, the locals were the only ones taking the warning seriously. He sighed. Typical. He shook his head.

Clark walked through an ornately decorated lobby. The front desk clerk informed him that they were moving all the guests to the lower ten floors, but he had had a fair amount of cancelations due to the approaching storm.

“Category 3, Mr. Kent. And we’ve never had even a typhoon.” Then the man did a double take. “Clark Kent? The Clark Kent?” A grin spread over his face. “Praise be to Allah. We are saved.”

Clark lowered his voice, keeping eye contact with the man. “Even Superman cannot always change Mother Nature’s plans.”

“I know that, Sir. Let me upgrade your room to the presidential suite. Complimentary upgrade. I take it that a little wind would not bother you.”

Clark smiled. “Usually not. But, please, I do not require preferential treatment.”

“I am happy to do it, Sir. The governor’s suite, perhaps? It is on a lower floor and does not come with a personal butler, but it is still nice.

Clark gave up arguing with the man. “That would be fine.” He handed over his credit card.

“That will not be necessary, Mr. Kent. To know that you have come in advance of the storm will give everyone hope, sir.”

“I will not have it be said that I do not pay my own way, Jamil,” Clark replied, reading the man’s nametag, still holding out his credit card. “Or that I took payment for my services rendered.”

Jamil beamed, taking his card. “You are as good as they say, sir. May Allah be with you.” He bowed his head.

Clark repeated the gesture to him. “And also with you.”

Jamil handed him back his credit card and his key card. “Oh, and Mr. Kent. This package was left for you.” The man frowned, holding out a manila envelope. “It was Asabi, Mr. Luthor’s man, who brought it.” He looked like he wanted to spit, but then thought better of it.

“Do you know Mr. Luthor?” Clark asked, interested.

“Everyone in Singapore knows of Mr. Luthor. He has helped develop Singapore into the beautiful jewel that she is today.” The man’s words did not match the tone of his voice. He swallowed and lowered his voice. “I cannot speak more of him. He has the evil eye.” Jamil then raised his voice. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Kent.”

OK, thought Clark. If Jamil, the desk clerk won’t speak of Lex Luthor, maybe he could find someone else who would. A bellhop appeared at his side and took his bag. The service was not needed, but Clark wasn’t one to deny an eager worker his tip.

The governor’s suite was more luxurious than any other place he had ever stayed. It had more space than his and Lois’s apartments combined. He tipped the bellhop and threw the package from Luthor on the coffee table, unwilling to let the man dictate his itinerary. He walked to the sliding glass door to the balcony. The room overlooked the large pool, which was surrounded by topiary greenery. Lucy had outdone herself in choosing this hotel.

Clark sighed; he already missed Lucy. He wanted to hear her voice, know everything was all right. Have her yell at him for not checking the weather before flying out. She had wanted to kiss him that morning before she left. If Sam hadn’t stopped him… Why did he keep torturing himself thinking of Lucy? They knew she had to return to her dimension for good, someday soon, or go permanently insane. Forget about Lucy, he told himself. It was his Lois he needed to concentrate on. His Lois.

Reaching into his pocket, Clark removed the tracker that Dr. Klein had made. He wished he could flick the switch on this device and just block the Neuroscanner, stop her pain, if indeed Junior had gotten it working again. Would Luthor even let Clark have access to her? See her? Lucy thought so. It wouldn’t be much of a test if the carrot wasn’t one worth attaining. And since it was apparently tattooed on his forehead how much he was obsessed with the missing Daily Planet reporter, Jaxon must know of it. And if Jaxon knew, it was probably a good bet that Luthor did as well. Clark hated that what should be his deepest secrets were anything but secret.

He wondered how Lois compared to Lucy? In essentials they would be the same, as Lucy kept telling him whenever she spoke of Kal. Despite their different upbringings, he and Kal had turned out fundamentally the same. Lois’s upbringing differed from Lucy’s as well. Plus, she had married and lived with… still was living with Lex Luthor. That traumatic event in itself may have changed her essentials. Clark hadn’t discovered any other event that would have changed her personality much from Lucy’s and he had searched her entire life story after he had developed his school-boy type crush on her. Would he still fall for her if she was so different from Lucy? Would Lois still be his destiny, his soul mate, as Lucy was for Kal? Would he still feel the same way towards her, having already fallen for Lucy? Would he feel anything at all?

Clark held up the tracing device. Time to find out. He flipped it on. The only thing that changed was that the power light lit up. He sighed. Nothing. He flipped it off again, and put it back in his pocket. He hadn’t thought it was really going to be that easy, had he?

Returning to the living room, Clark sat down on the sofa and stared at Luthor’s package. With a sigh, he picked it up and opened it. He wasn’t sure what he would find, but certainly not this. He laughed. It was a standard P.R. package. Brochures on a local art museum to which the Luthors had donated art pieces. Hospitals he had funded. Public works projects. Charitable organizations that Mrs. Luthor… Mrs. Luthor? He turned the pamphlet over. There on the back of the brochure was a picture of Lois -- his Lois -- holding a child orphaned by monsoon flooding in Malaysia a couple of years earlier. Her hair was longer, but it was certainly her. Her eyes were closed and she was hugging the child like a teddy bear. The pain on her face was mirrored by the child. They both looked like they had something dear stolen from them. It was a haunting photo that tore at his chest. He needed to get out of there. Get some fresh air. He still had roughly twenty-four hours before the party the next evening, and he needed to do some local research to find out more about Luthor.

As Clark reached the door, the suite’s phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kent? This is Jamil at the front desk,” the man on the other end of the phone told him.

“Yes, Jamil?”

The man paused, before saying, “I spoke to my cousin who works at the Singapore Weather Service and told him that you just checked into the hotel. I know that is against hotel policy, and I do apologize, Sir, but Singapore doesn’t get cyclones. Mr. Kent, I am worried about my family. My cousin, Azim, would like to speak with you.”

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that there is anything I can do, Jamil. Sometimes a natural disaster cannot be stopped by super strength.”

“I know that, Sir, but Azim does not think this is a natural disaster.”

“I’m sorry, I do not follow,” Clark said, opening the desk drawers until he found a notepad and pen.

“Azim thinks the Cyclone Rafflesia is manmade.”

There could be a real story here after all. “How is that possible?” Clark asked.

“Let me give you the address for the SWS, so Azim can explain it to you.”

Five minutes later, Clark was taking a taxi to the Singapore Weather Service. As he arrived, he saw a small group of men and women milling about. He recognized reporters, by their notepads, tape recorders, and television cameras. He pulled his press pass out of his wallet and hoped it would be acceptable, despite being from another country. Behind his US press pass, he found another press pass, this one for Singapore, with a note attached: Just in case, L.

How did she do that? Clark smiled and shook his head. That was why she was constantly saying that she was the world’s greatest investigative reporter; she was always two steps ahead of him. He held up his pass as the doors opened for the press conference and walked right inside.

At the press conference, Clark learned that Cyclone Rafflesia was named after the largest and smelliest flower. Unfortunate, because the flower smelled like a decaying corpse. The cyclone had grown from a thunderstorm up north of Ho Chi Minh City a week earlier and had slowly inched its way southward toward Malaysia and Singapore, growing in intensity. The first winds were expected to reach Singapore the next evening around nine as a Category Two, or possibly a weak Category Three Cyclone.

Great. Right in the middle of Lex Luthor’s holiday party. His date with Lois Lane might be postponed after all.

After the press conference, Azim flagged down Clark and took the reporter into his office, where he showed Clark all his data. Clark took copious notes and asked all the right question, plus a few stupid ones.

Azim started out by explaining his first clue that this storm was anything but natural. “Singapore is graced by being located less than five-hundred miles from the equator. Within this range, it’s rare for a cyclone to develop -- so rare, in fact, that there is none on record here in Singapore.”

“What else makes this storm different from other cyclones?” Clark asked him.

Azim showed him videos of five other named cyclones over the last few years. “Do you notice something similar with all them? They spin clockwise. This storm, Cyclone Rafflesia, is spinning counter-clockwise. That only happens south of the equator.” Azim clicked a few buttons on his computer. “This, Mr. Kent, is why I asked Jamil to send you to me. I think you will want to check something out. Something only you can do. See this satellite photo here? This was from ten days ago. Nothing. Nine days ago. Nothing. And then, just over a week ago…”

Clark leaned forward. There was a spec that looked almost the size of a small island that had appeared. Even looking at the spec with his microscopic vision he could not discern what is was, but that was more due to the computer satellite image. “What is that?”

“Exactly, Mr. Kent. But look at the sea surface temperature at the same time. The water temperature in that section of the South China Sea dropped ten degrees that day. Here’s a week ago.” A cloud was developing over that dot. “Six days ago.” The clouds increased in size and started moving in the wrong direction. “Five days ago.” The monsoon thunderstorm from Vietnam that the SWS bulletin had mentioned moved in, joined the manmade clouds and became a mass of swirling clouds with an eye at its center.

Clark would have to see a better picture to know what that spec was or just go in person as Superman.

***

Walking into the ballroom on the fifth floor, Clark couldn’t believe how many people turned out for this shindig with a cyclone headed for Singapore. Either these people didn’t believe the weather reports, hadn’t heard them, or didn’t understand the implications. Possibly they didn’t care, but he couldn’t in his heart believe that. The winds had already started to pick up. The businesses along the Singapore River were boarded up and deserted as the waves grew larger. With Singapore only roughly thirty feet above sea level it wouldn’t take much of a storm surge to flood the city-state. It wouldn’t take much flying debris to damage the windows in all those glass buildings surrounding them either.

Clark tugged at his black bowtie. He felt ridiculous continuing on his rescue mission with so many lives at risk. But he had done all he could do, prevention-wise. His Lois still needed him. If he delayed his rescue mission until after the storm, Luthor might have changed his mind about allowing Clark access to his wife or moved her to another location entirely.

Superman had checked out the wind mill farms on the coasts of Malaysia that had been drawing power from the grid instead of giving it. He had found what remained of an iceberg that someone had dropped in the middle of the South China Sea. Between the cooled waters, the extra vapor caused by the ice and the hot water temperatures, and the extra winds and who knew what else, it was clear someone had created this weather system. Mother Nature had taken the seeds and run with it, creating a cyclone where one had never been before. Why anyone would want to go through all this trouble to create a natural disaster was beyond Clark’s comprehension.

People would die because someone wanted to play with the laws of nature. Superman might be able to calm earthquakes so the damage could be minimal, but winds -- especially cyclone winds -- would only grew stronger if he used his super breath on them. Cool winds mixed with hot winds were not what these people needed. It frustrated him to no end that the only help he would be able to supply was search and rescue after the fact.

It didn’t help that he was distracted by thoughts of Lois, his Lois. She was supposed to be here. He took a drink off a passing tray. Clark suddenly heard her laughter and turned around. Like the Red Sea, the guests parted and he saw her. Her long brown hair hung straight down her back, only pulled away around her face. Her skin-tight, cherry-red, strapless evening gown flared out at her knees and matched the red, red of her lips. God, she was the most beautiful woman Clark had ever seen. She was even more beautiful than Kal’s Lois.

“Lola certainly is the handsomest woman of my acquaintance,” said a voice from beside him.

He pulled his gaze from Lois to see a bald, yet distinguished man next to him. The man held out his hand. “Clark Kent, I presume. Lex Luthor.”

Clark shook his hand, hesitantly, out of politeness. “Thank you for inviting me to your party. You must forgive the bluntness of my assistant. She has a tendency to speak without thinking.”

Lex laughed. “Sounds like my wife.”

Clark stilled his expression, so as not to react to that remark.

“Actually, Kent, I liked your assistant. She has a kind of spunk I find attractive in a woman. Perhaps I’ll fly to Metropolis and you can introduce me someday.”

Clark glanced over at ‘Lola’ again; he was finding it hard to keep his eyes off her.

“How rude of me. Shall I introduce you?” Lex suggested reading Clark’s mind. “She’s dying to meet you.”

What an odd word choice, Clark thought. As they started crossing the room towards her, ‘Lola’ glanced away from the East Indian man with whom she was conversing, noticing them. Her eyes lit up with the joy of a child.

“Lexy!” she cried in excitement, her voice almost baby-dollish, trying to run towards him, but not being able to due to her gown. She gave up and held out her arms to him.

Lexy? Clark glanced between Lola and Luthor. He was looking at her like a disappointed school master and she like a school girl. They met up in the middle of the floor and she grabbed Lex’s arm and gazed at him with a look of utter devotion. Clark’s stomach turned.

“Darling, this is the man I was telling you about,” Lex informed her. “Clark Kent.”

Lola gave him eye contact for exactly five seconds and then looked him over top to bottom to top again, like a child eyeing her first hot fudge sundae.

Clark smiled at her uncomfortably. “Mrs. Luthor,” he said, shaking her hand. She gave his hand an extra squeeze, then she winked at him. Whatever he expected when he met his Lois Lane, this wasn’t it. She was certainly more beautiful than he had expected. More beautiful than Kal’s Lois, but he felt nothing when he looked at her. Nothing like what he had felt when he had first laid eyes on Lucy. No electricity like their first touch. He smiled politely.

Lola took his arm and grinned at her husband. “Go entertain our guests, darling. I’ve got this one.”

Clark looked at Luthor for his reaction to this announcement. Luthor smiled patronizingly at her. “Enjoy yourself, darling. Remember to behave yourself. Mr. Kent is a reporter and anything you say to him is fair game.” The warning was more of a tease than that of a real warning.

Lola’s and Lex’s relationship wasn’t exactly what he had expected from what he knew of Lois Lane. Nor did she appear to be someone tortured by the Neuroscanner. As he and Lola took a turn around the room, he heard Lex Luthor snap his fingers. The Indian man Lola had been speaking with as they approached her appeared again.

“Keep an eye on them,” Luthor ordered.

Aha. That was more what Clark expected. He turned to look at ‘Lola’ and patted her hand. “Your husband said you were a big fan of my work,” he said. “Thank you.”

Lola grinned at him. “You’re welcome,” she said, but added nothing else.

Clark lowered his voice. “I got your message. How can I help?”

She looked at him with a panicked expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then she stopped to greet a couple and introduced Clark.

Mentally, he kicked himself. He wondered if it was the Neuroscanner that was stopping her from being herself. If Junior was monitoring her, he heard him ask the question, which could explain her panicked expression.

Between introductions, Lola spoke of shopping in Singapore and of getting a great deal on some piece of art she had found on the Riverwalk recently. He smiled politely as he wondered when or if the real Lois Lane was ever going to appear. “What do you think of Singapore’s first ever cyclone warning?” he asked, trying to change the topic of conversation away from shopping.

Lola’s eyes went wide with genuine fear. “Cyclone? Here in Singapore?” She gripped his arm tightly, then she swallowed. “When?”

“It’s supposed to make landfall in the next couple of hours,” he replied, surprised that she had no prior knowledge of it. “Didn’t your husband tell you?”

She shook her head violently, let go of his arm, and made a beeline to the Indian man following them. “Asabi! Asabi! What is this about a cyclone? Cyclones aren’t supposed to strike here. That was in the data you gave me. Do you know what high winds will do to the frog population around here?”

Asabi pried her hand off his arm and patted it like she was some scared child. “It is nothing for you to worry about, Ma’am. Let’s go get you a treat, shall we? Would you like a treat?”

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “Yes, a treat! I need a treat. That will calm me down.” As they passed back by Clark, ‘Lola’ paused and put a hand on his arm. “Mr. Kent, if you could please excuse me. Asabi has informed me of something that requires my attention. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

A live band started warming up in the corner of the room. “Mrs. Luthor, I hope you’ll honor us with a song when you return. I’ve been told that your singing voice is most delightful.” He smiled at her as her face fell.

After a quick glance at Asabi, she replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kent, I was recently ill and would not want to strain my vocal cords. Excuse me.”

“Of course.” He nodded and watched which door they disappeared through. She seemed strange, this ‘Lola’ Luthor, not at all like Lois. She looked like Lois, sounded similar to Lois, laughed like Lois… He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was missing.

Clark x-rayed the wall to see where Lola and Asabi had gone. Three rooms over was a small bedroom with a guard and a keypad entry. They were standing at a large tabletop aquarium filled with frogs.

Suddenly, Luthor put his arm around Clark’s shoulders turning him away from where he had been looking. “Kent, my boy, enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Luthor. Your wife is a delight,” Clark answered, waiting to return his focus to Lola.

“Please, call me Lex.”

“Tell me, Lex, why did you continue with your holiday party despite the cyclone warning?” Clark asked, curious.

“Always the reporter, eh, Kent? It was Lola’s idea, she really wanted to meet you. And I’d do anything to make her happy.”

Clark didn’t believe him. Not one word of it. “Actually, Lola seemed quite terrified when I mentioned the cyclone warning. She seemed worried about the local frog population.” He looked at Luthor with a raised brow.

Lex pulled out a cigar and lit it with a sneer towards the door Lola and Asabi had gone through. “She’s quite the environmentalist.”

“It’s too bad about her cold; I was looking forward to hearing her sing.” Clark waved a hand in front of his face to move Lex’s cigar smoke away. “Perry says that Lola’s singing career almost stole his best reporter away from him.”

“How is Metropolis’s new mayor?” Lex asked, changing the subject. “Liking his new job? It’s not the same working within the system as commenting on it, is it?” He grinned, chewing on his cigar. “The quality of the Daily Planet has really declined since he left. I’m even considering canceling my subscription.”

“Every paper has an adjustment period between editors,” Clark murmured, not wishing to discuss office politics with this man.

“It must be grating on your nerves knowing that your own paper would stoop to printing details of your….” He paused as if considering his word choice carefully. “Personal life. Makes you consider changing papers, doesn’t it?”

“No. Not at all, Lex. I’m happy at The Planet.” He looked over his shoulder, looking to see if Lola had returned.

“Have you found her?” Lex asked.

Clark snapped his gaze back to Luthor. “Who?”

“Your mystery woman. Your destiny. Ultra Woman.”

Would he never escape that one word? He sighed with a shrug. “Women.”

“I agree with you there, Kent.” Lex laughed. “No matter what you do, what you give them, they always want more. It’s never enough.” The billionaire sighed. “But the heart wants what the heart wants. You can’t deny it that, no matter the cost.”

“Your heart or hers?” Clark asked. “I’ve found that if you can’t give a woman what she wants most, then it probably wasn’t meant to be.”

“Interesting theory, Kent. I’ve found that every woman has a price, you just have to be willing to pay it.”

Clark raised a brow to that statement; it was the kind of declaration that would have started Lucy’s teeth to grinding. “A friend of mine would say that ‘Love isn’t a commodity to be bought or sold, but given freely or not at all.’”

“Your friend sounds like a wise woman,” Lex stated. “What’s her name? Lucy El, perhaps?” He grinned.

“Lois Lane,” Clark replied.

“Excuse me?” Luthor stared at him. Clark had succeeded in wiping that gloating expression off his face momentarily. “You know Lois Lane?”

“Do you? She wrote that in an article six years ago on prostitution and the sex slave trade.”

‘Lola’ returned at that moment and gave Lex a large sloppy kiss. He smiled at Clark and then wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. “And I’ve learned, Kent, that women have a tendency to change their minds.”

“Oh, what are you boys talking about?” Lola asked, hanging off Lex’s arm.

“Hors d’oeuvres,” said a waiter, passing by. Clark shook his head.

“No, thanks, I just ate,” Lola replied, licking her lips.

Lex turned slightly green and wiped his mouth again, waving the waiter away.

“Love,” Clark told her.

She looked perplexed.

“And you,” Clark continued.

“Me?” She squeaked. “Really, Lexy? Do you really love me?” She looked at him with adoration. It made Clark’s stomach crawl.

“Of course, my love,” Lex replied uncomfortably. “A word.” He took her elbow and led her away.

Clark tried to listen, but Lex swirled his finger in the air and the band started to play at that moment, deafening him. Instead, he watched Lex and ‘Lola’ have their discussion. Something about it seemed off, yet familiar. Then it clicked. She reminded him of that clone of Lois that had argued with Kal that day he rescued the younger Lois from her dimension’s Lex Luthor.

Taking a few steps back, Clark leaned against a pillar as the room started spinning. The clone. It all made sense. She looked like Lois, but was superficial, materialistic, child-like. That would explain why he felt nothing, felt empty around her. She wasn’t his Lois. If this was a the clone, where was the real Lois Lane?

*** End of Part 12 ***

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Chapter 4: Part 13