Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Another Lois (10/25)

You can find the Another Dimension, Another Time, Another Lois[/i] TOC here.

A/N: I moved “Witness” to its rightful spot after “Man of Steel Bars”.

***

Where we left off in Part 9 …

Scardino turned to look at the room full of men with disbelief before taking Lois’ arm and dragging her into the semi-private hall. “What in the hell was that about?”

“I’m not staying with you tonight, Dan,” Lois informed him in no uncertain terms. “Thank you for last night, but I’ve got things to do and people to investigate, which I can’t do if I’m sequestered.”

“Lois, you can’t be serious. Somebody is trying to kill you,” Dan’s tone had changed to patronizing.

“And this is different from every other day, how?”

Jimmy joined them in the hall. “All set,” he told her, completely unaware he had walked into a private conversation.

“Jimmy, Dan doesn’t want me to be alone tonight. Can you stay with me?” she asked her photographer without moving her focused gaze from Dan’s face.

“No prob, Lois. You’re the boss.” Jimmy shrugged. “I had nothing going on tonight anyway, in case you cared. Hey, now we can go to the Church art thing tomorrow together.”

“Sure,” Lois replied as she watched as realization slowly appeared in Dan’s eyes. She turned to Jimmy. “I’m driving.”

“Like there would be any other way,” Jimmy joked, heading down the hall.

“Lois,” Dan pleaded softly.

She had explained to him that very morning how important control was to her and the first chance he got, Dan tried to take it away.

“What? I’m playing by [i]your rules. You didn’t want me to be alone tonight. I won’t be alone.” Lois raised a brow at Dan. “Give me a call if you want to date a grown woman, instead of a little girl who needs your protection.”

“Lo-is,” Dan groaned.

“And make sure the boys lock up when they leave. I’ve got a story to write,” Lois said with a flip of her wrist as she followed Jimmy down the hall. God, she hated it when Clark was right.

***

Part 10

Lois brought Jimmy some blankets and set them next to him on the couch. “Sorry about the accommodations.”

“It’s okay, Lois. I’m used to sleeping on the couch,” Jimmy teased.

She wondered if he was referring to their weekend at the Lexor over a year before, when she had gotten the bed – both nights. Seniority had its perks.

Or the time he had crashed on her sofa after they had been exposed to Miranda’s Revenge perfume and Ralph had followed her home. Okay, true, she had been working the dock strike and hadn’t been sprayed. Actually, Jimmy had followed her home too, but she had allowed him to stay after Ralph had pushed his way into her apartment on some phony-baloney excuse, and Jimmy had to pull him off her. At least, Jimmy on pheromones wasn’t an acquaintance rape waiting to happen. Still, she had locked her bedroom door that night.

Or was he referring to the night after she had witnessed the murder by Mr. Make-Up, Sebastian Finn. Lois would have crashed at Jimmy’s place, but his cramped quarters made a frat house look quiet, cozy, and clean.

“Thanks, again, Jimmy. I appreciate it.” She decided after all the times he had helped her out, it was about time he heard some gratitude.

Jimmy leaned back against the couch and raised a brow. “So, why aren’t you letting Dan be your bodyguard?”

Usually what she liked about Jimmy was that he never probed too deep or asked her the hard questions. Lois pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. He went all over-protective on me…”

“You don’t want a boyfriend who worries about your safety? Especially after finding a bomb in your bedroom?”

Lois remembered how Clark snuck his way into her story at the Metro Club. She had hated him for it, but when push-came-to-Toaster, she had been glad he’d been there. “Well, when you put it that way…” She was beginning to wonder if she had made too big a deal of Dan’s overreaction. Great, she groaned inwardly to herself. Was she going to have to apologize to Dan?

“Don’t worry about it, Lois. Guys like Scardino enjoy the chase,” Jimmy reassured her.

Well, at least she wouldn’t have to practice saying… ugh… I’m sorry. She shivered.

Jimmy bent down and pulled out a magazine from his overnight bag. “Goodnight,” he said with a wave.

“Love Fortress, International?” Lois scoffed.

“Hey! I don’t comment on your reading material,” Jimmy said, offended. “Spencer Spencer is my man. There are some thoughtful hard-hitting stories in this magazine.”

Lois rolled her eyes. She had heard that argument before. “It’s a titty magazine, Jimmy, and I can’t believe you brought that into my home.”

He raised his hands in disbelief. “He takes on serious topics. I read it for the stories.”

“Sure you do. I bet a magazine like that is a front for who knows what… prostitution – at the very least,” she told him. “Come Monday morning, I’m going to do an all-out investigative dig on your ‘man’ Spencer Spencer and Love Fortress Corporation and see what pops up.”

Jimmy grinned. “You’re going undercover at the Love Fortress?”

Lois glowered at him. “Nobody knows where the Spencer Spencer’s real Love Fortress is, but I bet I could… if it came up in my investigation. I meant find the place, not that I’d go undercover there as one of his floozies.” She shivered his disgust. “Been there, done that.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know you were signing up to be a call girl with the Metros when you went undercover at the club,” Jimmy said, ribbing her.

Lois went to closet, pulled down her spare pillow, and threw it at him – a perfect shot in the back of the head.

“Just stating the facts, there, Lois!” He laughed.

“Ha ha.” Lois marched to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

***

Standing outside the art museum, Lois held a complimentary glass of wine in her hand and tried to appear as just another guest at the show.

Last night after filing her story about the bomb in her apartment, she rewarded herself with a good night’s sleep. Mmmm. She had dreamed of that November when the heat wave had struck Metropolis – over a year ago. This time instead of pollution and global warming, the city government had blamed Superman for the rise in temperatures. She scoffed at the thought. Lois couldn’t believe that the people of Metropolis… that she had been so naïve to believe them – him, Lex Luthor. Not that she had, unlike other reporters.

Lois might as well add the nuclear plant’s leak to the list of Lex Luthor’s devious deeds that she had learned about since his untimely death. She shivered. She couldn’t believe she had liked him, had bought his lies. He had ended up being the worst liar of them all because he had made her feel like a blind fool, both professionally and as a woman. Good riddance.

She closed her eyes and thought again of the kiss Clark had given her – late at night in the office. She felt Clark cup her jaw in his hand. He leaned towards her and placed his warm lips on hers, no subterfuge, no undercover masquerades, but because he wanted to. He loved her. Her mouth opened slightly as she once more experienced Clark telling her goodbye as he could no longer live in the city that had kicked out its hero.

She had woken up that morning, crying and begging Clark not to leave, not to fade away in the morning’s light. But like in her dream, when the heat wave nightmare was over, Clark was still not there.

Jimmy had even heard her crying and knocked on her bedroom door to find out what was wrong. What could she tell him? She was dating a terrific, if not over-protective, man but she longed for someone else? Someone from her dreams? Someone whose voice whispered in her ear when he wasn’t there?

Dan appeared out of nowhere, dressed in a suit and tie for a change. Lois wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as he looked.

“Hi,” he said, full of boastful charm.

Oh, look, it’s Mel Gibson, Clark’s annoyed voice popped into her head.

“Hi,” she replied to Dan, ignoring Clark. After Jimmy’s rebuke the night before she had been feeling a bit guilty of her treatment of Dan. “Look, there’s something I have to say…”

He smiled. “Me, too.”

Lois couldn’t help but return his smile. He appeared to feel remorse for his patronizing behavior the day before. Maybe their relationship could withstand yet another bomb blast. Before she could say anything else, Perry moseyed up beside them.

“Bomb squad boys are in the museum, dressed as guards, doing a sweep. Be out here in a few minutes, so let’s get ready for an exclusive,” he murmured, setting his hand gently on her shoulder for a moment before he turned away from Lois, spotting someone across the patio. “Olsen! Where’s your camera, boy?” He marched off to yell more at her photographer.

Lois shook her head, taking another sip of her wine. “Anyway, I guess we should try and find the bomb, catch the bad guys, blah-blah-blah, so we can get out of here and talk.”

“Good plan,” Dan replied. “Except the whole part about you finding the bomb. Do you have a death wish or something?”

She pressed her lips together. Had this man heard a word she had said the previous morning in his hotel room? So much for full-disclosure. “How about you let me do my job and you do yours before I change my mind about what I had to say?”

Dan gave her a mock salute, then leaned close to whisper, “So, who here’s selling illegal drugs?”

Right. DEA. But it was too late, Dan had made her smile again. She leaned close to him and replied, “Anyone here with the last name ‘Church’.”

He grinned. “Ooooh. Are those pigs in a blanket?” he asked, scooting off to an hors d’oeuvres table.

She followed him. “It’s salmon pâté on a cracker.”

Dan shrugged and stuffed one in his mouth. That man had a cast iron stomach; no wonder he survived her rumaki.

“You should really try one of these,” he suggested, turning to Lois and accidentally knocking the sticky hor d’oeuvre against her white dress.

She brushed the crumbs off her dress. Her purse slid off her shoulder and landed with a thunk on the ground. As she picked up her purse, she inadvertently grabbed a bit of the tablecloth as well. There was something under the table. She scooted underneath for a closer look, realizing she had found the bomb. It looked big and nasty with lots of wires and a big container of boiling or bubbling who knew what.

“Lois?” Dan called. He must have realized she disappeared. Observant, that one. She reached out to pound on his shoe, when she heard Perry’s voice.

“You know, Scardino, I kind of took a private vow to steer clear of you two, but I can’t help myself…”

Lois rolled her eyes and smacked Dan’s shoe. He jumped. “Lois!” Dan glanced down at her and she waved. “Lane!” he continued, growling with annoyance. Oh great, had he thought she meant something else?

“Oh, come on, stop playing around here,” Perry snapped at him.

She pounded on Dan’s foot again and indicated that she found something under the table with both her eyes and a hand gesture.

“You’ve got to make up your mind on how to treat her and be consistent,” Perry went on, not having noticed her. Way to be observant there, Chief. “Now, go get her!” Lois’ boss nudged Dan, bumping him into the table.

“Lois!” Dan called panicked, bending down and lifting up the tablecloth.

“Lord, it’s worse than I thought,” mumbled the Chief, backing away from the table.

“Bomb!” Lois hissed, crawling out from under the table. “There’s only four minutes left on the clock.”

“Go! Get Perry and as many people as you can away from here, now,” ordered Dan. “Where are those bomb squad guys?”

“The guards!” Lois reminded him.

Dan nodded and ran to find a guard.

Lois turned to search for her boss and caught sight of Mindy Church, who looked at the table and then Lois standing next to it. Her eyes widened and then she backed up with a nasty glare of frustration at the reporter. Bingo! Thanks for the confession, Min.

The DEA Agent returned with a guard in time to catch sight of Lois tackling Mindy Church about fifteen feet from the hors d’oeuvres table with the bomb. He shook his head as he walked up to assist.

“Looks like somebody here knew about the bomb,” Lois informed him, sitting on top of the woman in the skin-tight pink dress that could have easily been pilfered from Cat Grant’s closet.

Dan grabbed the blonde out from under Lois and held tightly onto her arm, so she couldn’t run off. He used his other hand to help Lois to her feet. “You just don’t know how to run from danger, do you?”

Lois grinned and flipped up his tie. “It’s what you like about me.”

“Are you two a thing?” Mindy cooed in her baby voice. “You are! Not a happy thing, but still a thing.”

“Let’s go get something to eat, Mrs. Church,” Dan insisted, leading her towards the bomb. Mindy refused to be led forward. “That looks like a confession to me,” he said to Lois.

Lois agreed with a nod.

“Bomb’s defused!” announced a member of the bomb squad, coming out from under the table.

Mindy glowered at Lois as Dan passed the blonde to another guard. “This one confessed. Arrest her.”

“I most certainly did not!” retorted Mrs. Church, her baby voice suddenly gone.

Lois raised an eyebrow at Dan.

“How do you do that?” Dan inquired with amazement. “I bet if we dropped you in the middle of the Atlantic you would land on some lost mine from World War Two.”

Lois shrugged and wrapped her arms around Dan’s waist.

He grinned, lifted up her chin, and placed kiss after kiss on her lips.

***

Lois woke up and started to brush her teeth to find the water shut off. Great. What a way to start the day. Luckily, she still had that bottled water she had bought earlier in the week on a whim. She telephoned the landlady to find out about the pipes and was told her landlord, Mr. Tracewski, was already on the job, but that it would take several hours to fix. It looked like she would be showering in the locker-room again today. She had barely hung up the phone before someone had knocked at her door.

It better not be Clark, informing her that he sat on that bench across the street all night in the cold night air, watching her apartment. No matter how much Lois thought the world of her partner, that was just creepy. She was a witness, not a victim. Frankly, she really didn’t want Clark to see her in her schlumpy pajama shirt and boxers shorts. If it hadn’t been laundry day – some time earlier in the week – she wouldn’t have worn them. Especially knowing that if something had happened and Superman had needed to come into her apartment to rescue her the night before...

Oh, God! Why hadn’t she thought of that? What if it was Superman on the other side of the door checking up on her and he saw he like this? Clark was one thing, but Superman was something else entirely. She would definitely do laundry today. Only the water was out. Well, she’d certainly be purchasing herself a nice feminine set of pajamas or maybe something silkier…

“Oh!” Lois said to herself opening the door; it wasn’t Clark. Wow, Mr. Tracewski, putting the ‘super’ in super. She chuckled at her lame joke before letting the man in and heading into her kitchen. “Mr. Tracewski, your wife said it would be a couple of hours. As you can see the water is not exactly working. I’ve not been able to…” She turned back to her landlord and saw him walk stiffly into her apartment. She had never seen the man so rigid. “Mr. Tracewski, are you all right?”

Mr. Tracewski stepped towards her and wrapped his hands around her neck.

Thank God, her self-defense courses automatically kicked in. What happened next was kind of blur. She fought her super super tooth-and-nail. Literately. She actually bit the man. Was that before or after she had kicked him in the jaw? Suddenly, Clark was there, talking to the man. Why was he talking to him? She wondered as the room went dark.

The next thing she could remember was that she was in Clark’s arms. He was on the floor, holding her, and she was coughing. Breathing, more gasping for air than breathing. But Clark was there. Clark was there. Clark was there.

Lois reached up as well as she could and wrapped her arms around him just to reassure herself.

“Clark,” she whispered, ‘was there.’

“Clark.” had said he would protect her.

“Clark.” had said someone wanted to kill her.

“Clark.” had been right.

She felt Clark’s arms pull her tightly against his chest, and she felt safer than she had ever felt before.

Safer than if she had saved herself.

Safer than with any man she had ever met.

Safer than with Superman.

Lois never wanted to leave.

Her eyes opened into her dark bedroom. Lois knew without looking at that clock that it was still the middle of the night. “Clark,” she whispered, her voice sounding hoarse like Mr. Make-Up’s strangulation had just occurred. “He tried to kill me.”

I’ll find him, Clark said out of thin air or memory.

“No,” she told him, trying to pull the man, whose voice she kept hearing, back into her arms. All she caught was air. “Please, don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

Okay, I won’t, he replied. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m here.

Only Clark wasn’t there. She was all alone.

***

Lois pulled her lockpicks out of her briefcase and started to work on the door. It was an old-fashioned lock so it took a little longer than she would have liked to get it open. Finally, she was able to turn the knob. She put the lockpicks back into their little case, and the case back into her briefcase, before withdrawing her flashlight.

She knew better than to try the lights. First of all, she didn’t need to draw unwanted attention onto herself. Secondly, she figured that the power wasn’t turned on. She carefully maneuvered around the empty paint cans and the piles of newspapers to make it down the stairs.

It was Clark’s apartment all right. She could see the landing where he had put that little cart, the landing that overlooked his joint living room and kitchen. She could see the built-in bookcases – currently empty – where he would have kept all his books and mementos. She could see the brick archway that led into his bedroom.

Side-stepping around more piles of debris, she headed into that room. Shining the light around the room, she could see the spiral staircase leading up to his loft and the bank of windows looking out to his patio that faced a brick wall. She touched the brick archway, leaning against it, not exactly sure what she was looking for.

Lois had known with one hundred percent certainty that she wouldn’t find Clark here. She had known that before she had left her apartment. She hadn’t found him the other night when she had come. It was just an empty shell without Clark and yet, despite that, she felt closer to him here than she had at her apartment… than even at the newsroom where she must have spent more hours with him than anywhere else.

It was quiet here. It reminded her of him: his serenity, his kindness, and the fact that his door was always open to her, no matter what the reason or what the hour.

She walked through the area – as best she could – where Clark’s bed usually was located and through the other archway into the kitchen, circling back into the living room. There were a couple of tall stacks of newspapers near where Clark would have put his sofa. She sat down on the floor and leaned gently against one of the stacks, making sure not to send it toppling.

He really wasn’t there.

She rested her head on her knees and, although her entire being ached at his loss, she didn’t cry. She closed her eyes, thinking back over every memory dream she ever had about him. She relived every caress of her cheek.

Every time he had looked at her as if he could see deep into her soul.

Every smile.

Every laugh.

Everything.

***

Lois! Clark’s voice called to her out of the stillness.

She opened her eyes to his apartment. Oh, crap. She had fallen asleep. She understood by the fact that she could now see around the apartment that the light came from the windows not from her flashlight. She looked down at the object; her flashlight was out. Had she turned it out or had she left it on, letting the batteries die? Not really wanting to debate that question at the moment, she replaced it in her briefcase.

Lois stood up and brushed off the dust from her pants and coat before stretching and heading up the stairs to the front door. At the doorway, she heard voices outside and the sounds of people clomping up the stairs.

Her heart began to race. Were they coming here? Should she stay and hide? Or should she make a run for it?

Run!

Yeah, she was thinking the same thing. Swiftly, Lois went through the door and around the back corner – away from the staircase leading to Clark’s apartment – where she pressed herself up against the wall.

“I should have the key here,” a man was saying and Lois could hear him jingling keys.

“It’s already open,” a different man’s voice said and she winced. Hadn’t she shut the door?

“Open? Oh, I hope squatters haven’t moved in,” grumbled the first man’s voice again.

Lois took a chance and stole a glance around the edge of the building. Her heart, which had just started to calm down after making it around the corner, started pounding in her chest again.

The man with the keys was the same portly man she remembered seeing Clark with when she thought he had been meeting Superman. The. Same. Man. The landlord was real. He wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

“So, do you still want to see the place or not?” the portly man asked the younger man in the suit. “I did get up extra early to show it to you.”

Lois stole another glance around the corner to get a better glimpse of the new prospective tenant. Could it be Clark?

Sandy blond hair.

Not Clark.

‘He’s dead,’ she reminded herself. ‘Stop looking for him everywhere.’

The men walked into the apartment and Lois took this opportunity to run to the stairs and out of the building entirely.

***

Ten days later, Lois stood with a half dozen of her colleagues in front of the TV sets in the newsroom as LNN announced, “… and Love Fortress International had no response to this morning’s Daily Planet story. The paper reported the Love Fortress magazine and night club operation were little more than a cover-up for crime, including gambling, prostitution, and money laundering…”

Doesn’t LNN know that as a business – honest or otherwise – Love Fortress cannot ‘respond’ to…?

Perry’s voice spoke over the announcer’s and cut off Clark’s dig on LNN’s lack of grammatical correctness, “Well, you sure scooped that pretty boy!”

Lois turned around and smiled, basking in his pride. “Hi, Perry.”

“I just stopped by to congratulate you. This is a heck of a story,” he replied with a grin. Nobody could be happier whenever they scooped LNN, so she guessed Perry had a pretty good life.

Jimmy joined them, but his lips were pressed into a line. He wasn’t happy about her exclusive. “Yes, that is a heck of a story, Lois.” His words were the opposite of his tone.

“Jimmy, weren’t you assigned to this piece, too? I kind of under the impression that you two were permanent partners,” Perry said with a wink.

“Well, we’re not permanent permanent partners yet, Chief,” Jimmy said, shooting daggers at Lois as they walked back to her desk.

“No, that would be a big step, Chief,” Lois agreed in a playful tone, trying to keep the self-satisfied grin off her lips.

“The kind of thing a person would have to think through,” Jimmy retorted with another laser sharp gaze at his partner before he caved. “Lois! I cannot believe the number you did on my man, here.” Jimmy groaned, tossing his latest copy of Love Fortress International onto her desk.

Perry picked up the magazine, chuckling. “Son, that’s a skin book.” That didn’t stop the Chief from flipping through it.

“Spencer Spencer takes on serious topics, Chief. I’ve read him so much, I feel like I know him,” Jimmy tried to sell his snake oil to their boss.

Perry continued laughing and Jimmy took back his magazine before the Chief walked off.

Lois rolled her eyes. Isn’t this where I walked into this conversation? she asked herself. “No one knows him, Jimmy, he hides out from everyone.”

“If I had the looks, the cars, the women he has, I’d hide out from everyone too,” her photographer retorted.

Saved from furthering this discussion, Lois answered her ringing telephone. “Yes?” She covered up the mouthpiece and whispered to Jimmy, “It’s Spencer Spencer.”

“Oh, my God! The man himself,” Jimmy replied reverently.

Lois hushed Jimmy before uncovering the receiver. She said, all business, “Hello?”

“Ms. Lane. Lois. Spencer Spencer here. Quite a colorful article you did on my little operation. I’d like to make you a proposal,” Spencer Spencer purred into the phone. “What would you say to meeting with one of my spokesmodels, and let’s give you an accurate picture of my world? I can make it worth your while.”

Luckily, Lois’ faux charm-detector went off immediately; with all her exposure to Scardino she knew the fake stuff when she heard it. “Mr. Spencer, I have an accurate picture of your world and a truly disgusting place it is. Read part two tomorrow.” She hung up.

“Lois!” Jimmy gasped.

“Mister Charm,” she muttered. “Probably sitting there in his legendary silk pajamas, drinking absinthe, girls massaging him…” She grimaced. “I’ve had enough exposure to that world, thank you.”

Jimmy threw up his hands and walked off.

Lois chuckled and saw Dan standing over by the vending machines. She wondered how long he had been there. He looked like he was fighting the machine for a soda. She got up and went to join him. “I know you think I’m not thinking about it. Just because I’m not talking about it, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it.”

Dan had dropped the bombshell on her after the art show the previous weekend that he was thinking about asking for a transfer to Metropolis office, so he could be closer to her. Before he made any decisions, he had wanted her opinion. She hadn’t said ‘yes’, but she hadn’t said ‘no’ either.

“Lois… relocating is a very big step. I said I’d wait and I will wait,” he said, finally extracting a soda from the machine. “— until you’re sure about us.”

“I’m glad you understand.” She sighed, stealing the rest of the coins out of his hand. He was finally starting to be aware of her control issues.

“Of course, if I were the paranoid type, I might think you’d been avoiding the whole thing,” Dan went on. Frankly, he still sounded pretty paranoid to her.

Lois set a hand on his chest and laughed. “Of course not! Avoid it? Of course I’m not trying to avoid it.” She plugged his money in and extracted a plastic cheese sandwich from the machine. “Did you ever notice how lousy the cheese sandwiches are in this machine?”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m just saying you can’t get a good cheese sandwich. I’d kill for a piece of Camembert, the really good kind from France. You notice it’s tough to get good Camembert outside of France?” she said, prying back the plastic wrap covering her sandwich.

“I’m so glad you’re not avoiding this whole thing,” Dan replied so sarcastically it dripped from every word. “Very, very happy about that.”

Lois didn’t know what was holding her back from moving forward with Dan, except… except that she was still having trouble sleeping. She was afraid to close her eyes and fall into her dream world.

The thought of moving forward with Dan seemed ridiculous if she figured out the clues on that piece of paper and could somehow save Clark. Saying “yes” to Dan felt like giving up on Clark, and she just wasn’t ready to do that yet.

***End of Part 10 ***

Part 11

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