Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HereWhere we left off in Part 8 …They stood there awkwardly on the sidewalk for a minute, neither of them knowing quite what to say. It was a strange feeling for her. Lois had always felt comfortable around Clark. He was one of those kinds of people she clicked with right away, had an instant rapport with, instantly felt at home around, and that was what she found so suspicious. She never felt like that around anyone.
“So,” she said hesitantly. “Where
are you going?”
“I don’t know, I thought Superman, me, Jimmy Hoffa, and the Easter Bunny might go and get something to eat,” he said with a perfect deadpan. “Care to join us?”
How could she resist? “Well, if both Superman
and Jimmy Hoffa will be there, I guess I shouldn’t let you get the exclusive,” she replied, with a light chuckle, as they continued walking down the sidewalk. “And for the record, I don’t hate you.”
Clark flashed her one of those smiles she had named after him. “You don’t?”
“No,” she admitted. “I just hate it when someone other than me is right.”
“You mean, you hate it when you’re wrong?” he clarified.
“No!” Lois nudged him sharply with her elbow. “Get this straight right now, Clark, I am
never wrong. On occasion, other people, besides myself, do tend to be right, though.”
He laughed. “But you’re
never wrong? Gotcha.”
Lois smiled at him. She could get used to having him around. He was no Superman, but he was also no Claude. As long as he didn’t beat her out of any Superman stories, they would get along just fine.
***
Part 9“Where have you been?” Lucy asked when Lois came into the apartment a couple of hours later.
“Work, and then dinner with Clark,” Lois said, tossing down her keys and shrugging off her briefcase.
“Dinner with Clark?” Lucy echoed suggestively, sounding as if she was in shock. “I thought you
hated him?”
Lois rolled her eyes. Where was everyone getting this crazy idea that she ‘hated’ Clark? “I don’t hate him.” Hate was a passionate emotion, and she most certainly didn’t have any passion for Clark. “We’ve come to an agreement. He’s never to admit I’m wrong, and I’ll, occasionally, accept the fact that he may be right.”
“Okay…” Lucy said slowly. “So, you’re friends now?”
“Friendly like. If, and only if, he doesn’t come between me and a Superman story,” Lois explained.
“Who?” Lucy asked.
Her sister was helpless when it came to current events that had nothing to do with a movie premiere, that latest clothing fad, or the hottest concert in town. If it weren’t for her, Lucy wouldn’t know that Garner was President. Maybe Lois should set Lucy up with Clark. It would get him out of her hair and off her coattails, and then Lois would be free to get Superman on her own. Then again, Lois thought, what if Clark was older than her? Yeah, he could be and that would make him too old for her kid sister. Too bad, Clark could use some Metropolis know-how. Mel Gibson concert? Ha!
Lois pulled the evening edition of the
Daily Planet out of her briefcase and handed it to her sister.
Lucy’s jaw dropped as she stared at Jimmy’s photo, which had made it, reluctantly on Perry’s part, to the cover of the evening edition, for lack of another photo. “You met him?! You flew with him?”
Lois shrugged noncommittally. “He promised me an exclusive interview.”
“Wow! Lois, that’s fantastic! That’ll sure get you back in Perry’s good books after bombing with Luthor the other night,” Lucy praised her in a way only a Lane could, by including one of her failures.
“I didn’t bomb!” Lois defended herself then gave in. “Okay, that interview was an unmitigated disaster.”
“But you’re having lunch with him tomorrow,” Lucy reminded her.
“No,” Lois said, kicking off her shoes, and taking off her brown jacket. “I canceled.”
“You canceled lunch with the third richest man in the world?” Her sister went into shock mode again. “
Why?”
“Superman.” Lois shrugged. “He’s my only story from here on out.”
“Lois, how are you ever going to meet Mr. Right, if you keep canceling dates?” Lucy said, unfolding the newspaper to get a better look at the photograph.
“I’ve already met Mr. Right,” Lois told her, and then bit her tongue. She pointed her index finger at her little sis. “That is just between you and me. You better not say anything to Mom.”
“Mum’s the word,” Lucy replied with a grin, turning an imaginary key in front of her mouth. “So, you’ve decided he’s Mr. Right then? Already? That was quick. What happened to being friends first?”
Lois shrugged, trying for nonchalance, but then sat down next to her sister, needing to gush. “Oh, Lucy, when I looked into his gorgeous brown eyes today, I just knew that he’s the man I’ve been waiting for my entire life. He’s the
one.”
Lucy’s eyes bugged. “The one, as in one and only? Does he feel the same way?”
Lois blushed, glancing away. “I don’t know. I haven’t told him how I feel. I know he likes me, cares about my safety, and he’s interested in my work. We’ve only just met, so I’m sure it’s too soon…” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, I shouldn’t have told you, told anyone, it’s just… I felt like I was going to burst. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“So…” Lucy beamed. “When are you going to see him again?”
The reporter stood up and walked to the window, staring out in to the dark night’s sky, hoping to catch sight of a familiar face burned onto her retinas. “Soon, I hope, really soon.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad that you aren’t going to dance around and play hard to get this time,” Lucy said, joining her at the window. “You aren’t going to play hard to get, are you?”
“I don’t play hard to get,” Lois snapped. “Oh, Lucy, I was as bad as Cat Grant the way I threw myself at him.”
“Isn’t she that slut you work with? Go, Lois! Good for you, embracing your inner feminine side. Wait,” Lucy said, getting a perplexed expression on her face. “You threw yourself at him, and you still don’t know if he likes you for more than a friend?”
Lois turned away from the window and shut the curtains. She looked up at the ceiling, thinking again how she had acted up on the roof with Superman. “Okay, maybe not as bad as Cat. Perhaps ‘threw’ wasn’t the right word. I invited him to wait in the apartment while I showered and changed.”
“So what, you came out in a towel and dropped it on the floor and…?”
“No!” Lois gasped; her mind replayed the image of Clark in his towel, and she flushed. “He was too much of a gentleman; he waited for me outside.”
Lucy frowned. “You really need to get out more often if you think inviting a man into the apartment is being forward, Lois.” She handed the newspaper back to her sister and marched off to her own room.
Lois scowled at her sister’s back then stuck out her tongue for extra measure. She
had been forward. She had suggested interviewing him while she was in the shower, if that wasn’t throwing herself at Superman, she didn’t know what was! She went into the kitchen, removed a tub of chocolate ice cream from the freezer and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. She leaned against the kitchen counter and thought about her evening.
Dinner with Clark would have been a simple affair if the man hadn’t happened to be the pickiest eater she had ever met. It had been nice though, better than she expected dinner with a colleague could be. It wasn’t a date; a fact which she had reiterated to herself and to Clark, several times, over the course of the evening.
After the third time, he had held up a hand and told her outright, “Lois, I know you’re in love with Superman, and I’m a Neanderthal, but give me enough credit to not even touch the word ‘date’ if I had a ten-foot pole…” He had blushed at his word choice. “I mean, if I was a ten-foot pole…” He had shaken his head and taken a sip of his water. “If I carried a ten-foot pole around in my pocket…”
“How about I just hit you with this metaphorical pole, and we move on?” Lois had suggested.
“Please,” she had heard him mumble from behind his napkin. He had caught her eye, and the two of them had laughed.
Lois didn’t know what was worse: his eating habits or the fact that he was trying too hard to impress her by how hard he was trying not to impress her. Clark liked her; that much was obvious. Hell, he had asked her out on the day they met and again the night of her Luthor interview and once more tonight. He also was extremely jealous of Superman. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out either.
Yet, despite all these things, Clark Kent was a gentleman. He had treated her as if they were two colleagues out for dinner, which they were. He hadn’t asked those stupid date questions, which made her forgo many a first date for work. He had asked about stories she had written, the ones for which she had earned her Kerths, and then listened as she regaled him with her adventures. Plus, he had no problem standing up to her when he thought she was wrong, although he kindly remembered never to use
that word regarding her, or when he had a differing opinion. He had seemed to genuinely like his competition for her heart, not that Clark was even entered into that contest any longer.
Since she had met the Man in Blue that morning, all the other players had been ceremoniously disqualified. She had even changed her outgoing voicemail message that afternoon to reflect that fact: Superman was her only story. Even though Clark was jealous as all get out of Superman, he still admired him, and Lois admired Clark for not letting his high opinion of her bias his judgment of Superman.
Clark, as a work colleague and a friend, might be okay.
But, oh! Lois rolled her eyes at the thought. His eating habits were atrocious! No deep fried foods. No dessert. No pastries. No snack foods. Fruits and vegetables at every meal. He drank milk at dinner, because he didn’t drink soda pop. He drank his coffee black, no cream, no sugar, or even low-fat milk. Who was this man, and why was he treating his body like a temple? Sure, she could see people kneeling down to… No, she hadn’t meant that! She wouldn’t go there.
Yes, she would agree that Clark had a gorgeous body, but one had only one life to live, might as well give oneself a little pleasure, at least sometimes. Please! The man didn’t even eat chocolate! It wasn’t human.
Lois took another bite of her chocolate ice cream and rolled her eyes in annoyance at Clark, and then moaned at the cold, smooth goodness sliding down her throat. Who didn’t eat chocolate?
She had asked him if he was on a special low-cal diet or had diabetes or some other plausible reason to explain why he ate that way. Clark merely shrugged and said he liked the natural taste of foods and didn’t care for sweets. Didn’t care for sweets? Bah! Lois decided that it would be her new goal in life, after making Superman hers, to corrupt this man into eating at least as badly as she did. Otherwise, there would be no living with him.
Not living
with him, living with him. Working with him, being his friend, having him as a part of her life. Oh, God! What was her brain thinking? He was her biggest competition for Superman. Superman seemed to trust Clark for some unknown reason, wanted him to keep Lois safe, and… Dammit! Superman’s trust in Clark made her want to trust him as well.
So, after dinner Lois had volunteered to walk Clark back to the Apollo Hotel. She wanted him securely locked up and not hunting down the next Superman story.
“Lois, I live in a bad neighborhood. How about I walk you home, instead?” Clark had counter-offered.
“I happen to be a black belt in Taekwondo, Chuck, and can take care of myself,” she had informed him.
“Really?” he had replied, impressed. Well, of course he’d been impressed. It was an impressing feat. “I’m glad, but I feel that Superman would prefer it if you didn’t venture alone into that neighborhood at night anyway.”
Ooooh. How she wished she hadn’t let Clark know of her Achilles heel named Superman. “How about we walk back to the Planet, and I drive you home, then?” Lois had compromised.
His brow had furrowed. “You have a car?”
“A Jeep Cherokee. I don’t always use it; sometimes, it’s just quicker to grab a Metro cabbie, but I drove the Platts to EPRAD last night. Jimmy picked up my car from there and brought it back to the office earlier.”
“You had a car at EPRAD?” Clark had shaken his head, chuckling. “I should’ve known.”
Lois had stopped on the sidewalk and pointed a finger into his face. “Don’t you dare tell Superman, Clark.”
“Why? So, he doesn’t feel like you suckered him into giving you a lift to work?”
See, absolutely no fear in stating his opinion to her, even when it had been clearly wrong. “There was no suckering. Firstly, because Superman could never be anybody’s sucker; he’d see them or hear them coming a mile away, and secondly, it was
his idea to fly me to the Daily Planet, not mine.
His!” she had retorted.
Clark had held up a hand, surrendering. “I won’t say a word.”
As Lois had pulled her Cherokee up outside the Apollo Hotel and accepted Clark’s gratitude for giving him a lift, she had told him in no uncertain terms that he had a full-time job now, he needed to get himself a real apartment and move out of that tenement house.
His only response had been to give her one of those dazzling Clark Kent smiles. She swore that the man thought everything that came out of her mouth was intended as a compliment, whether or not it… What was she thinking? She had never complimented Clark, nor was she planning to start.
Lois took another bite of her chocolate ice cream and sighed. There was something about plain chocolate ice cream that seemed to relax her, melt away all her stress. She had bought herself a Rocky Road cone last week and had actually ended up throwing it out; it tasted so bad, like dirt. She doubted she’d ever buy one again.
******************
Opening Ceremonies******************
It was dark, late into the night, when Superman landed on Lex Luthor’s balcony railing. He hovered there for a moment, debating whether or not to actually confront the man over Dr. Baines’ death. Perry had told Clark that Luthor was a dangerous man, not one to make his enemy, but in this dimension nobody knew that Clark was Superman, therefore, the reporter part of himself, his friends, and loved ones were protected.
Superman, on the other hand, the Man of Steel, stood alone and couldn’t be hurt. He attracted enemies of a caliber of Lex Luthor; Tempus had shown him that. The only way Clark was going to get the concrete facts that Perry wanted him to get for his exposé would be to tell Luthor that someone knew the truth about him and would be keeping an eye on him. Maybe that would prod the man enough to make a nervous mistake. Perhaps he might even want to gloat. Criminals hated not being recognized for their bad deeds.
Luthor glanced up and saw Superman hovering there, his cape billowing in the breeze, so there was no backing out now. The billionaire opened his balcony doors and clapped his hands as if rewarding the behavior of a small child and instantly putting Clark’s guard up.
“Bravo! Bravo!” Luthor told him with a salute. “Astonishing debut, Superman!”
Clark landed on the balcony and walked forward.
“So, to what do I owe this honor?” Luthor asked him.
“I came to tell you that I know who you are,” Clark said, placing his hands on his hips.
Luthor shook his head, perplexed.
Superman took another step forward until he was a foot in front of him. “Who you
really are.” He crossed his arms. “I suppose on its face, it was a good plan: destroy Prometheus so that you could put your own space station in its place.”
The billionaire turned away from Superman, and Clark knew it was because the man could no longer face him, guilt written with every step he took away from him. Luthor lit his cigar and didn’t speak as Clark continued.
“Then not only would you make billions from the patents from the vaccines developed, but you’d also be the supposed savior of the space program.”
“Well, that’s an interesting theory, Superman, but I’m afraid that’s all it is,” Luthor replied.
So, he wasn’t going to admit it, wasn’t going to gloat. Fine. “You’re also responsible for the deaths of at least three people.”
Luthor looked at Clark and put on his jacket. He might not be admitting guilt with his words, but with every action, every movement, every ounce of body language, he screamed his confession out to the hero.
Clark went on to list Luthor’s victims. “Commander Laderman.” The captain of the Messenger. “Samuel Platt. Dr. Baines. Those probably aren’t the only skeletons in your closet.” Actually, he knew they weren’t. Dr. Baines’ henchman, the pilot of the helicopter, and Commander Laderman’s crew on the Messenger were also on that list, but Clark didn’t know all of them by name.
The billionaire villain stopped in front of a full length mirror to double check his image. “So, you’ve become both my judge and my executioner?”
Was
that why he reviewing his image in the mirror? Did he think that Superman was going to kill him? Did he want to look his best before he died for his crimes? Tempting though it may be, that wasn’t how Superman operated. He, himself, would be judged lacking if he took it upon himself to become supreme ruler over this country, over this world. Besides, he didn’t want to have the responsibility.
“Like any other citizen of the planet, I must obey the law. I am not above it,” Clark responded, knowing that was how Luthor felt, looking down onto his minions and serfs below. “You, it seems, believe you are.”
“I hold a certain position in this city,” Luthor admitted, almost threatened, as he picked up his cigar once more and took a large puff, blowing smoke towards Superman.
“Yes.” Clark nodded. “There is nothing that would please me more than to see you dethroned and behind bars like any common criminal. That day will come.”
“Well, I trust not,” Luthor scoffed, almost gloating in the fact that he was planning on getting away with everything he did. “But, as they say, ‘let the games begin’.”
That gauntlet thrown, Clark knew that there was nothing more he could say or do that night, so he walked back onto the balcony. “Oh, one more thing,” he said, turning back to Luthor. “If you ever need to know who’s keeping an eye on you…” Clark flew onto the railing then hovered above it a moment, looking over his shoulder back at the pompous bore. “All you have to do is look up.” He raised his fist into the air and disappeared into the night’s sky.
Blending into the darkness of the night, Clark looked down at his adopted Metropolis and sighed. Not a bad day, not a bad day at all. He saved the Prometheus transport and Lois, stopped a robbery, and confronted a megalomaniac. He had dinner with Lois, got her to confess that she didn’t actually hate him, and admit that she wanted him to rent an apartment, because she wanted him to stick around. Nope, not a bad day. True, Lois thought he – Clark – was an idiot, and she was completely head-over-heels in love with his cape-wearing alter ego. No day was perfect. He would take what he could get.
***
‘What would draw Superman out? Use your instincts. Beat the bushes, turn the stones, get me Superman!’ Perry had said at their dawn meeting.
Lois’ instincts at the moment were coming up with bupkis. She had gone to her sources: dry. She had checked with the radar facilities and had been shot down. She shouldn’t be hunting Superman anyway. He had promised her the exclusive; he
should be coming to her. She was running out of ideas.
I’ll be around. Ha!
“Really? He’s there now?” she heard Clark say into his phone.
The nerve of that man! Didn’t she just tell him the night before that Superman was
her story? That
he, Clark Kent, the man crushing on her, was not to get between her and the Man in Blue? Yes, she did. Would he tell her about his tip? She pretended to make a note as she continued to listen.
“Great! Give me the address again?... Really? 3-4-4 Clinton? Wow, it’s fate!... No, it’s nothing, just a strange coincidence… Okay, tell him I’ll be right over. Don’t let him leave!” Clark said, before hanging up his phone and grabbing his jacket.
“Clark?” Lois called out to him sweetly after he passed by her desk without acknowledgement.
“I’ve got to run, Lois; I’ve got a meeting,” he said, turning around and giving her a smile, before disappearing down the stairwell. She couldn’t believe the man. He was going out to meet Superman without her, lying to her about it, and why in the hell was he always taking the stairs? Didn’t the man trust elevators?
Lois grabbed her briefcase and followed him.
***
“Quietest building in Metropolis,” Floyd lied to him, as Clark heard the sounds of a car alarm blare in the vicinity.
Clark still couldn’t believe it. 3-4-4 Clinton. It was exactly like his apartment back in his dimension. Okay, not exactly. This place was a dump, literally, but it was home.
“You married?” Floyd asked. His new old landlord was the same, give or take a hundred and fifty pounds.
“No,” Clark replied to his question.
But I’d like to be.“Girlfriend?” Floyd continued.
“No.”
But I’m working on it.“Boyfriend?”
Clark turned and stared at Floyd.
Did he just ask what I think he did?“Me, I mind my own business,” said Floyd with a shrug.
Had Clark just unintentionally admit to having a boyfriend? Well, he guessed, technically, he would be sharing the place with Superman. Clark chuckled.
“Where are you from?” Floyd asked.
He almost answered Metropolis, but stopped himself just in time. “Kansas.” He walked into the kitchen and tried to open the kitchen cabinet; the door fell off into his hand.
Embarrassed, Floyd tried to convince Clark it was nothing. “A few screws is all.”
Okay. Clark let that one slide. He walked over to the sink that had more cobwebs than he had ever seen in one place at one time during all ten years on his folks’ farm. He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and tried out the sink. Brown – no, it was black – water emerged.
“Minerals. It’s good for the liver,” said Floyd.
Good thing Clark had a steel stomach.
Clark walked over to the huge windows that lit up his bedroom. He had missed living in his apartment. Since becoming Superman, his old apartment had been broken into so many times, Clark had hardly ever stayed there anymore. He had just finished moving the last of his stuff worth keeping over to the Superman Foundation’s new penthouse apartment for him, just prior to moving to this dimension. He wouldn’t miss that cubical apartment as much as he had missed
this place over the past six months.
“Nice view,” Floyd was saying. “You can see out. No one can see in. Walk around in the buff; I do.” The man set his hands on his ample hips. Good thing Clark couldn’t see into Floyd’s apartment then, wasn’t it? Well, he could, but he’d make extra sure he didn’t.
“How much?” Clark asked. He had been paying nine fifty in his dimension, but when he had moved in, it hadn’t been in this condition. It had been move-in ready.
“Nine fifty,” Floyd announced.
“You’re kidding?” Clark scoffed. Nope. It wasn’t happening at that price.
“You want cheap, go back to Iowa,” Floyd recommended. Strange, that was the same thing thin Floyd had said in his dimension. Some things never change.
“Kansas,” the reporter corrected.
“
This is Metropolis. Nine even, take it or leave it.”
Clark put his hand on the banister to the stairs heading toward the front door. A piece came off in his hand. “I guess I’d need to make a few repairs,” he stated, not questioned.
“I guess so,” Floyd replied, looking down at the piece in Clark’s hand.
“Eight hundred and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Clark told the man.
Floyd appeared as if he was going to argue, but then surrendered with a nod. He must be desperate.
This neighborhood wasn’t as nice as it was in his dimension, otherwise Lana would never have allowed him to rent here. Of course, if she hadn’t felt safe standing on the street waiting for a taxi after dark, she had considered it a bad neighborhood. Maybe he shouldn’t move in here, too many memories of Lana. Then again, Lois had made him Superman, had allowed him to hold her in his arms, and had almost kissed him in this apartment.
“When can I move in?”
“As soon as the check clears. Oh, and I’ll get some extra keys made,” Floyd said; a slightly disgruntled expression came to his face as if he was upset that he had agreed to such a low price.
Clark blew, accidentally using his super breath, some dust off his hand and it slammed the front doors shut. They opened up again and Lois stumbled inside. “Lois!”
“Where is he?” she demanded.
“Who?” asked Floyd.
“Who?” echoed Clark, although he had an odd feeling he knew who.
Lois looked around the dump that would soon be his apartment, the anger vanished from her eyes as she froze, and an expression of pained discomfort crossed her face. “I know this place.” Her eyes opened wider. “Where am I?”
“My new apartment,” Clark explained. “You know, the one
you recommended I rent last night.” She had been right. Superman couldn’t fly in and out of the Apollo Hotel.
“Yes,” she nodded, taking another gaze around as if seeing it again through different eyes. “You’re going to live here.” Her gaze stopped at Clark, as if seeing him for the first time. She turned and bolted.
“Lois!” Clark called to her, running up the stairs to the front door, but he knew she wasn’t coming back. He stopped at the front doors and tilted his glasses down. He spotted her running down the steps; if he ran he could easily catch her. He shook his head. He had paperwork to sign.
“I thought you said you don’t have a girlfriend,” Floyd said to him, meeting him at the front door.
“I don’t,” Clark responded.
Floyd tilted his head, his gaze following where Lois disappeared down the steps. “Not anymore, I guess.”
Not anytime soon was probably the better answer. Clark’s shoulders fell. Why had she followed him here?
***
“Daily Planet! Daily Planet! Excuse me. Excuse me,” Clark heard Lois pushing her way through the crowd at the area of the second jumper. Superman had returned to speak to police and had only just left when Clark had seen her arrive.
Lois stopped in front of a well-dressed older woman and, as she looked up with everyone else, asked, “Daily Planet, what happened?”
“Lois! It was incredible,” Clark said, stepping up next to her and gesturing to the sky. Now, he knew why Lois had followed him to his new apartment. She thought he had the inside clue on how to find Superman. She had thought he was going to meet Superman. She, who thought he couldn’t find his way out of an empty room with only one door in it, was using
him to find Superman. “You should have seen it. Superman caught that woman in midair. She’s okay; she left in the ambulance a minute ago. She was still screaming her head off though. He was amazing.” If he could say so, himself.
“So, you were here,” Lois stated the obvious. “Good for you, Clark. That’s great.”
Really? Hmmm. Maybe he had misjudged her. “I better go phone it in,” he said, pointing over his shoulder to the payphone behind him.
Lois grabbed his arm. “Oh, don’t! They’ll just re-write you up. My advice is to get back to the office and get typing.”
Clark’s brow furrowed. “No, they don’t. Doris did a great job on the story I filed yesterday.”
She looked at him in shock that he hadn’t taken her words at face value. “No, you’re right, Clark. They usually don’t, especially Doris. I don’t know why I said that. I just thought you might get to the office and type it up, be able to hand the story directly to the Chief, bask in his praise directly,” Lois said, glancing over her shoulder to the man who had just walked up to the payphone. “Anyway, it looks like that guy is going to be on the phone for a while.”
Wow, that was really nice of her. Clark smiled sheepishly for his earlier assumption. Maybe she wasn’t so cut-throat as he thought. “Thanks, Lois.”
She turned and pointed behind her. “Look! Take my cab!” she insisted. “Go on.”
Again, he was stunned. She was really going out of her way to help him, he couldn’t believe it. Maybe last night’s dinner had really broken the ice between them. “Lois, I appreciate it. I owe you one.” He nodded and headed towards the cab.
As he sat down in the cab, he told the driver, “Daily Planet!”
The man nodded and pulled away from the curb.
“No, Clark, I owe you one,” he heard Lois mumble to herself.
He turned around; looking out the back window of the cab, he saw Lois pulling the phone away from some defenseless man.
“This is an emergency,” she told the man.
Clark turned and faced front, a determined grimace on his face. She had played him for a sucker, and he had fallen for it wrapper, candy, and stick. “No, this is war, Ms. Lane, and in war, there are winners and there are losers. I am
not a loser.”
***End of Part 9*** Part 10 Comments
