Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
Here Part 16 Part 17*******
Friends*******
When Clark returned from interviewing the family of the latest victim in the drive-by war between two rival gangs, he felt empty inside. A young man of fifteen was battling for his life at Metropolis General. His four year-old sister had been traumatized for life having witnessed the event. There was basically nothing he, as Clark Kent or Superman, could do about it.
He had tried back in his dimension to stop all the violence in Metropolis and, instead, had spent four sleepless nights trying to put himself between every gun and every bullet, or hovering above the city, waiting for the next attack. In his dimension, unlike this one, every person in Metropolis carried a gun, and gun deaths outnumbered every other kind combined, but he had been determined to do something about it. It had been a fruitless and discouraging time for him, but he didn’t have a choice. Everyone knew what he could do; he couldn’t have stopped helping people, if he wanted to. He didn’t have the option of giving up his Superman persona and returning to his previous life as Joe Regular. It was too late; that life had been taken from him by Tempus. People would have turned against him, blamed Clark personally more than they already did when Superman wasn’t able to save someone.
Clark had eventually realized he couldn’t be everywhere at once; he couldn’t save everyone, even if the public turned against him, which sometimes they did. It was just one of the facts of his new life.
“You okay?” Lois asked Clark, glancing up from LNN’s coverage of some riot, somewhere in the world.
He sighed. “Drive-by shooting, witnessed by the victim’s preschool sister.”
“Oh,” she said with an understanding nod. The sad thing was this story wasn’t unique. “Did you see Superman?”
“Yeah, that would’ve made it the perfect story, wouldn’t it have? Superman comforting the young girl…” He threw up his hands and turned towards his desk in annoyance. He couldn’t take a cheerleader at the moment.
“Hey!” she called after him. “That’s not what I meant!” She stomped after him, grabbed his arm and spun him around. “I thought you liked Superman.”
Clark just looked at her, not knowing exactly what to say. At the moment, he didn’t like himself very much.
“I just asked if you saw him. You know, had a chance to speak with him about
our story,” she clarified.
Right,
their story.
He shook his head, mumbling, “He wasn’t there.”
“Okay, then. That’s all you had to say,” she retorted loudly. “It’s not like he can be everywhere at once and save everyone who happens to be involved in a crime. We haven’t put Superman in charge of stopping all violence in the world, or in Metropolis even. It’s enough that he can do what he can. Everything else, well, that’s our problem. You know, we’re lucky to have someone like him whom we all can believe in. That he’s here to help at all, to assist where and when he can, gives most of us hope for a better tomorrow.”
Clark stared at Lois. He wanted to cry at the beauty of her words, and how they touched his very soul. He wanted to laugh, because she had shouted them at him more than anything. Mostly, he wanted to wrap his arms around her, laughing until he cried or crying until he laughed. He wanted to share everything with her. How could he have considered, even for a moment, ever living his life without her in it? Even before he met her, he had dreamed of a woman who accepted and understood him like she did, and this woman didn’t even really know him, yet.
But he didn’t hug her; he couldn’t do that. Instead, he cleared his throat as best he could and murmured a rough, “Thank you.”
His gratitude seemed to shock the fire out of her. “For what?”
“For reminding me,” he whispered, following her back to her desk. He leaned against the cubicle partition. “Can I ask you a question?”
She raised a brow at the stupidity of that inquiry, as he read her expression as ‘you just did’, and he smiled.
“What makes you believe in him so?”
Lois sat there, thinking, concentrating on something. He hadn’t ever seen her consider an answer to a question so thoroughly. When she bent down to pick up her briefcase, he figured she wasn’t going to respond.
“I shouldn’t…” he started to apologize, but then paused as she spoke at the same time.
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t say, or you won’t?” Clark needed to know.
“Can’t.” She sighed, not looking at him as she filled her bag with odds and ends. “It’s hard to explain…” She halted briefly what she was doing to gaze up at him. “I just…
do.” She shrugged, closed her briefcase, and turned off her light and computer. She stood up and gave him her full attention. “If you should
happen to see him around, tell him thank you from me…” Lois said this with a subtle wink to hint she meant something else entirely. “And that he still owes me an interview.” She turned to the stairs and called to him over her shoulder with a wave, “And I expect that you won’t show up with him.
It is still
my story and my story alone.”
Clark watched her go, unknowingly taking his heart along with her. She wanted him to contact Superman and send him her way. He wished with all his might that he could, but Superman needed to fix his uniform first. It wouldn’t do to show up at Lois’ apartment with a tattered cape and bomb stains down the front of his blue Suit. For the first time since Lois had first called him Superman, Clark was tempted to break his groupie vow to himself and kiss the stuffing out of that woman.
“I’d offer a penny for your thoughts, Clark, but you’re wearing them on your sleeve for free,” said Cat, suddenly by his side.
Or maybe it hadn’t been suddenly, Clark didn’t know. She could have been standing there for awhile, only he hadn’t noticed because he had been thinking of what it would have felt like to kiss Lois when she had said those inspiring words about his alter-ego. He turned away from the elevators, from where Lois had long since departed, and headed back to his desk.
“Do you know how to sew?” he asked her.
Cat laughed as she sat down on edge of his desk. “Interesting segue. Want to explain it?”
“Sew with a sewing machine?” he repeated softer and covered his mouth with his hand, mumbling, “I need to fix my uniform.”
She smiled seductively. “And what do I get in exchange for being a goddess of domesticity?”
“Dinner, my treat. Do you like Mexican?” he inquired. “I know a great little restaurant…”
“In town?” she probed. “Because I have this charity thing at the Metropolis University I’ve got to cover at nine.”
“Yes,” Clark insisted, glancing down at his watch. “I need to type up this drive-by story, pick up a few things, and tidy up my new apartment.” He scribbled his new address down on a piece of scrap paper. “Can you meet me about six?”
“This isn’t a ploy to have me help you move your stuff into your apartment, is it? I’m not
that kind of buddy.”
Clark raised an eyebrow, actually surprised she would think that.
“Oh, right.” Cat laughed and waved the idea from the air. She leaned towards him, taking the piece of paper with his address and whispering, “Maybe you can give me a ride on your interstellar vehicle.”
“My
what?” Clark stammered. “Cat, I don’t have…”
“Uh… Kent!” Perry called to him. “Could I see you in my office please?”
“Later, Clark,” Cat purred, moseying off with a wave of her fingers.
Clark shook his head, and went into his boss’ office.
Perry closed the door behind them. “Kent, have you ever heard of Anita Wood?”
“Memphis DJ, won a beauty contest, almost married Elvis Presley,” Clark rattled off, vaguely remembering her from the Elvis biography he had picked up after his fiasco about not knowing this dimension’s Elvis’ marital status.
The Chief paused, blinked, and stared at Clark. “You’ve heard of her?”
Clark nodded, belatedly realizing he had said too much. “I caught a biography on Pres… Elvis… Elvis Presley on television the other night,” he stammered by way of an explanation.
Perry studied him for a moment longer and then nodded. “Anyway, it was 1958, Elvis had been drafted. He and Anita were talking marriage.”
Clark had no idea where Perry was going with story or why he had pulled him into his office to tell it to him. “Did she die? Do you want me to pull her bio for an obit?” he asked.
The Chief held up a hand for Clark to be patient. “Colonel Parker knew it would hurt Elvis’ career, so he put a stop to it. Now, if the Colonel hadn’t gotten wind of it, Elvis might not be The King.”
They stared at one another, Perry hopefully, and Clark completely baffled.
Perry continued, “Do you understand what I’m saying here?”
Clark shook his head slowly. “That she was the wrong woman for him?” he guessed.
His boss nodded. “
Fools rush in, son. Fools. Rush. In.”
Was his boss referring to him? Oh, Cat! “Chief, I think people have the wrong idea.”
Perry gave him a ‘maybe they do, maybe they don’t’ expression.
“Well, it’s definitely not what you’re thinking,” Clark clarified as plainly as he could. “Cat Grant and I are only friends.”
“Really?” his boss said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Kent, just between you and me, Cat doesn’t have male friends who are ‘just friends’ and especially not ones who aren’t gay.”
Clark crossed his arms and stood his ground. “She does now.”
“Son, what about Lois? You told me just last week that you respected her, and that your intentions were honorable,” Perry reminded him.
“And?” That hadn’t changed, and Clark didn’t see the conflict of interest.
“You’re breaking her heart, son,” his boss spelled it out.
Clark lifted his finger in thought. Breaking whose heart? Cat’s? Or Lois’? He looked over his shoulder at where his partner had left not twenty minutes before, and looked back at Perry, who nodded. Lois wasn’t in love with
him, Clark him. Lois was in love with Superman him, wasn’t she? Perry didn’t know he was Superman, did he? That wasn’t what he was trying to say, was it? No, it couldn’t be. The Chief was talking about Clark, not Superman. Clark realized his mouth was hanging open wide like fly collector, as his Mom used to tell him, and he shut it.
Perry patted him on the arm. “Son, I’m thinking that, when it comes to women, if you want to be The King, you’d better listen to the Colonel.”
Finally, Clark nodded, although still confounded as to why. “Thank you. I’ll remember that…
Colonel.”
His boss reached out his hand, and Clark shook it. Perry thought Clark was breaking Lois’ heart? Where in the world had he gotten an off-the-wall idea like that?
***
“Where are you going to sleep?” Cat asked him, walking around Clark’s debris-filled apartment.
She had shown up a half-hour early, hoping the extra alone time with her might change his mind, favorably, in her direction. She hadn’t expected such a mid-renovation mess. Clark had told her he had just moved into this apartment and that he needed to tidy up, but this was ridiculous. There was no way they would be able to work on his uniform tonight, which was fine by her. She hadn’t used a sewing machine since she had made her own clothes in college. She only hoped that he planned on taking her
out for dinner.
Clark walked through the archway into another segment of the room with two large windows. The larger of the two windows, the one without the smoked glass, showed his balcony, which overlooked the alley and faced a brick wall. He had been kind enough to give her the grand tour when she had arrived five minutes before, but frankly, she didn’t see the appeal.
“I’m going to use this part for the bedroom,” he said, repeating what he had told her before.
“I meant tonight,” she explained, although technically it had been a hint towards a suggestion.
Clark smiled knowingly. “I guess you’ve never seen me in action.”
“Excuse me?” Cat responded with a shake of her head. Action? Now, they were talking her language.
He moved her next to the spiral staircase. “Don’t move.”
She shrugged, taking off her purse and setting it on the steps. Cat was glad she decided to dress casually again, like she had the night before, jeans and t-shirt. He seemed more comfortable with her like that, as opposed to her skin tight dresses and pantsuits that were her usual war paint.
Cat leaned against the staircase and studied her dinner date, biting her bottom lip slightly in the process. His arms looked even more muscular in that black t-shirt, but not Mr. Universe big. His butt fit very nicely into that old pair of jeans. Yes, Clark had a very nice seat indeed. If he looked that good in clothes, she couldn’t wait to pull those suckers off him.
The lack of a bed posed a problem, but not one she couldn’t easily overcome. The dirty floor, piles of old newspapers, and cans of paint on the other hand made this place look less like a love-nest and more like a heroin squatter’s dream.
Clark picked up a can of paint and a brush, and shot her a grin. Suddenly, he was floating up to the ceiling and painting. True, he had raised them above the floor the previous night at her apartment, but this was utterly different; this was
flying! Within the span of a minute the entire ceiling was cobweb free and covered with a fresh coat of paint. Then he came back down to the floor, landing in front of her.
“Cat?”
She pointed at him and then up to the ceiling. “You… you… flew!”
“‘Floated’, technically. ‘Hovered’ might also work. But, trust me,
that wasn’t flying. You did realize that was part of the whole package, right?” he said with a laugh. She had never seen him seem so light-hearted and happy. It was the first time she had ever seen him be himself.
Clark had never looked sexier.
Cat cleared her throat. “In concept, I guess.”
He shot her another grin with a wink. “But not in action.”
Oh, she definitely had to see this man in action.
“Okay, this time, really don’t move. That was just for demonstration purposes only. This will be the real McCoy,” he warned her.
Cat nodded, anticipation making her shiver.
Another minute passed and the debris cluttering the living room and kitchen literally disappeared before her very eyes. The clutter was replaced by an entirely different and empty apartment. A fresh coat of paint covered the walls. Everything was sparkling clean. The kitchen cabinets were hung back up. Clark stopped in the middle of the living room and held up his hands in a ta-da manner. Cat noticed that all the stacks of newspapers were now sitting on the balcony, along with the empty cans of paint.
Not knowing what else to do, she applauded. “Impressive.” Another thought struck her. “You don’t do
everything that fast, do you?”
He raised a brow and the light dimmed in his eyes. “No, Cat. I can do everything super fast or at human speed.” Then a naughty grin slipped onto his lips as he walked towards her. “I can also be very, very slow, if I need to be. I never get exhausted; I need less sleep than other men, so I guess I could go all night long, nonstop, if I wanted to.”
Her jaw dropped. He didn’t just say that, did he? Not shy Clark Kent? Her skin felt warmer, and her heart raced with eagerness. “If Lois is ever incredibly stupid…” she began.
“Cat,” he said with no remorse, the teasing flirtation gone from his voice like a face full of snow. “I told you there is only one woman for me. There will be no test drives, no lonely nights, no drunken deeds, no melancholy mishaps, and no hope for anybody else. I’m sorry.” Damn, his flirtation had only been a test, and one she had failed with flying colors.
Cat nodded, pretending to wave the possibility out of the air. “Right. I know. You told me.”
“If we’re going to be friends, you need to understand and accept that. I could live anywhere in the world if I wanted to, but I’m here. I chose to live in Metropolis and work at the Daily Planet because of Lois,” Clark said, crossing his arms, all business. “I would like for us to be friends but only friends. There will be nothing else between us.”
She walked towards him, knowing that friendship was a good bridge for more. She could be patient. “So, the only reason that you’re here, that Superman is here in Metropolis, is because of Lois Lane?” Cat couldn’t believe Metropolis’ good fortune was because of that spoiled brat.
“Pretty much, yes.”
“You’re starting to sound like her Super stalker, Clark,” she teased.
His shoulders fell as he took her words at face value instead of the joke she had intended. “Don’t think that
I don’t know that,” he admitted with a sigh. “Having Lois love me – the real me – is a pipedream, I know that. This is basically my one chance for the life I’ve always wanted, always dreamed of, and never thought I’d have. I’m unwilling to rush things or screw everything up by sleeping around. I want to earn her trust and her love, but if I never do, if work colleagues is all I’m allowed, then that’s okay too. Really, I’m just happy being in a world where Lois exists.”
Cat took another step closer to him. “And if she decides she doesn’t want to be with you, if she marries another man, then what? You watch her live her life with another man while you what? Stand on the sidelines, hoping she’ll change her mind?”
The expression that crossed his face made her realize that he hadn’t thought this noble knight act all the way through. She could see that the idea of Lois ever loving another man stabbed through his very soul.
Clark took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “
If he truly loved her, and
if she was truly happy with him, that would be enough for me, but you’re right, I couldn’t stay and watch that. I couldn’t…” He winced. “I may have Super strength, but even
I’m not that strong.”
“You wouldn’t think of moving on with your life and finding someone else?” she asked. She was standing next to him now, and danced her fingertips down his arm.
He moved away from her. “There
is nobody else for me, Cat. Please, understand that. Lois… Lois is my soul mate.”
Her jaw dropped. He didn’t mean ‘soul mate’ as in literal soul mate, did he? “Huh? Is that a Krypton thing?”
Clark nodded, still not looking at her, but staring out the windows into the dimming sunlight. “When we find our true love, it’s like everything and everyone else fades away.”
Well, that did put a bit of a kink in her plans. Cat thought back at the way Clark looked at her when he told her he could go all night long, and swallowed. He must be lying. Everything else, his
desires, his sexual urges couldn’t have faded completely away. He was still a man and she was a woman. She leaned against the bricks of the archway. “So, if you Kryptons…”
“Kryptonians,” he corrected.
Oh, Lois is going to love that personality trait, Cat thought with a wicked smile. “If Kryptonians mate for life, how come you’re not a virgin, Clark?”
“Enough chit chat,” Clark announced, clapping his hands. “Why don’t you stand in the living room, while I finish cleaning in the bedroom?” he suggested, making an illegal left turn in their conversation.
Interesting response, Cat pondered, taking her purse and moving into the clean living room. There was plenty of time to revisit the question later.
Soon, the entire apartment was move-in ready and it still wasn’t six o’clock. Cat was glad that she decided to come early; the show had been definitely worth it. Clark turned on the kitchen sink and let the water run until it turned clear. He put his used paint brushes in a bucket to let them soak with the water. He zoomed off with all the trash that had been on the balcony and was gone only seconds before he returned.
“Where did…?” she murmured.
“I just took them to the dumpsters down in the alley. If you don’t mind waiting, I still have a few things I need to pick up.”
Cat waved for him to go ahead, not wishing to slow him down, and still a bit in shock at how much he was actually demonstrating for her of his abilities. He would definitely be an asset in her life. She was so glad she decided not to write that article. This would be so much better.
She was a bit disappointed that Clark had stated – again – so baldly that her chances with him were practically nil. Okay, she admitted to herself, that was an optimistic interpretation; Clark’s estimate had been closer to ‘less than nil’.
For some unfathomable reason, Clark was obsessed with Lois, who obviously had none of his redeemable qualities. He was sweet, kind, shy, considerate, and generous. Lois was not. He had a playful quality to him, and when he laughed, he did so freely and without reservation. Lois did neither. If he wanted to be, which sadly he did not, she was sure Clark would be a stallion in the sack. And Lois, well… Cat shook her head… Never entertained.
If Clark had seen how Lois had been panting over Jimmy’s Superman theory this afternoon, hardly waiting for the boy to get called into Perry’s office before bolting to her desk to call the EPRAD Satellite Tracking Station in Alaska, perhaps he would be having second thoughts on the matter of Lois being his ‘soul mate’. Cat knew better than to be the doomsday messenger; she had seen enough messengers caught in the crosshairs of such a war. No, much better to be a sympathetic shoulder to cry on when Lois’ actions and personality were shown to be undesirable in one’s chosen life mate.
As if there could be only one right person out there for everyone. Please! Of course, it did make some peculiar sense that Lois and Clark were soul mates: opposites were known to attract. She shook this thought out of her head.
According to office scuttlebutt, which as a trade rule Cat not only listened to but contributed to daily, Lois had been forced into a partnership with Clark because she had tried to steal his Superman story about the two jumpers, and had been caught red-handed by Perry. Other than Superman coming on the scene and Clark thinking she was the end-all-be-all, Lois was having a darn tooting bad week. Cat giggled with glee at the thought. She wished she could spend all her free time watching Lois squirm under this new arrangement, having her knock the secret identity of the man with whom she was supposedly obsessed, but Cat had her own stories to write. Not everything about work was fun and games.
Clark returned with a small square dining table and two chairs, before disappearing into sky once more. Cat laughed, rolling her eyes at herself for thinking that he had been asking for help moving in. Clark could be so normal, that when he wasn’t flying around at super speeds, she totally forgot he was Superman. She guessed she’d get used to the idea one of these days.
She picked up the old Singer sewing machine she saw sitting next to Clark’s one suitcase and box of food on the little alcove by the front door, and began to set it up on the table. He must have picked up the sewing machine earlier in the day. She wasn’t thrilled at being Clark’s seamstress, but she couldn’t wait to get her hands on Superman’s blue Suit and red cape.
It was strange that he had only the one. According to Lois’ initial Superman story, he cited a friend as the original creator of the Suit. Cat was very curious as to whom that friend was, but she was willing to place money that Clark wouldn’t tell her. Were the fabrics Earth fabrics or something new from beyond? Whatever they were they weren’t as indestructible as their owner, from what she could tell from LNN’s coverage of the bombing of the Carlen Building, Clark had fared better than his cape. Had the Suit been made here on Earth? Or before leaving Krypton? If it had been made on Earth, exactly how long had Clark been living here?
Clark returned again, this time with two bags. The first was full of red fabric. The second contained dinner from the Mexican restaurant. He dropped the first bag on top of his suitcase and set the food on the table.
“Shall we eat first?” he suggested. “I hope you like it spicy.”
Oh, my! Clark was too much of a man for someone like Lois Lane.
***
“No?” Clark asked with confusion. “Cat, it’s just an old cape.” He was holding the old tattered cape ready to tear it into scraps for rags.
“No, it’s not, Clark,” Cat said, grabbing the cape out of his hands. “It’s a valuable piece of history.”
“What? No, Cat, it’s a piece of fabric full of holes and stained by bomb residue,” he argued, reaching to take it back. “It has no intrinsic value.”
Cat ran to the other side of the room, clutching the material to her chest. “So is the American flag next to the Constitution in the National Archives, but you don’t see anyone trying to make rags out of it!”
He looked at her like she was nuts. “Cat, my cape doesn’t compare to the American flag in value.”
“Sure it does.”
“It reminds me getting my butt blown up in a building by some crazy radicals out to kill me,” he replied. “Not something I really want to think about.”
“Clark,” she said, holding up her hand. “Don’t think of this as part of your Suit. Think of it like a journalist would. Do you know what this cape represents?”
“That Superman is imperfect?” he guessed, his lips pressed together in annoyance.
She shot him a sour expression. “Big picture, Clark.”
He sighed in exasperation.
“
This is the first cape Superman wore when he made his appearance on Earth. This is the cape that we saw flutter behind him as he raised the Prometheus transport into the air. This
is Superman’s first cape. Intrinsically worth nada, historically priceless, unless you think Superman isn’t historically important,” Cat said, tossing it back to him. “Your call.”
Clark looked down at ratty fabric in his hands. It wasn’t his first cape, or even his second. His first cape, Suit, and boots were locked away in the Superman Foundation vault in his dimension. That uniform had value to him. It was the one that other Lois, the Lois he had originally met and fell in love with, had made for him. It was the uniform that he had worn while carrying her in his arms as he flew around the city helping people openly for the first time, the uniform that he had been wearing when he flew into mayoral debate, the uniform that he had been wearing when he discovered that he was indeed vulnerable, when he lost his freedom and had to say goodbye to the first true love of his life.
This uniform, this Suit and cape that he had brought to this dimension, well, was just one of many he had had made back in his dimension. To him it was worthless, but Cat had a point, to the people of this dimension, no matter how tattered, stained or torn, this cape was a piece of history… or would be someday, if Superman became as important to this dimension as he had in his dimension and that dimension from where that other Lois had come. Still, to him, it looked like a rag.
He glanced over at Cat with skepticism. “So, what do you think I should do with it?”
“Well, you could hold on to it for now. We could use it for a model for future capes. Once we’ve replenished your wardrobe, then you could donate it to a museum, like the Smithsonian in Washington DC, for example, or the local Metropolis Museum of History, or donate it to a charity to be auctioned off.”
“Auction it off?” he gasped. “It’s worthless. Who would pay money for a dirty, ratty, cape?”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Lots and lots of people, Clark, would pay lots and lots of money, and not only for your cape, for any part of your Suit – especially the shorts… ” She shot him a naughty grin with bouncing eyebrows, and he took a step away in dismay. “Your autograph, items you’ve touched, photographs of you, a chance to have lunch with you, hell, probably even a lock of your hair or even a kiss.”
“Why would a charity auction off things? Don’t people donate money to charities from the goodness of their hearts, not to get stuff?” he asked. Was this another facet of how this dimension differed from his own?
“Clark, that’s the main reason people donate to charities. People want a return for their buck,” she explained.
He gaped at her. Yep, another difference. “But that’s wrong, Cat. People do get something for their money. They get the feeling of self-worth that helping out the less fortunate or a noble cause gives to them.”
Cat looked at him with pity for his naiveté. “Nope. People on this planet are more materialistic. You want people to give money to your charity, you need to throw a party, host a big-ticket concert, dinner, lecture, ball, or sporting event, you need to sell or ‘auction’ off donated items.” Her pity turned to bitterness. “I thought you read my column, Clark. I go from charity event to charity event and write about who was there, what they were wearing, who they were talking to and who they weren’t. That’s what I do.”
“Like Luthor’s Orchid ball?” he mumbled, realizing that he may have misjudged the man. Maybe he wasn’t as self-centered as Clark originally thought. Perhaps it was just this whole dimension was out for themselves, and Luthor was just one of many people who slapped their name on everything they touched, but try as he might, Clark just couldn’t shake his bad opinion of the billionaire. There was something rotten in Luthor’s egg, and he knew it. Clark sighed. “That’s just not who I am. I believe people should help to help, because they can, not to get something in return.”
Cat patted him on the arm. “Don’t ever change, Clark, and the people of Earth will love you for it.”
He gazed at her. “Are you sure? Because selling out, that’s not something I could ever do.”
She laughed. “I’m sure, Clark. The masses hate the status quo and how the rich treat everyone else, refusing to give aid unless they get something in return, even if it is just a tax break. Most people want to be like you, and some actually are. Not with your abilities, of course, but with your belief system.”
Clark exhaled in relief. Maybe this dimension wasn’t as screwed up as he had thought. “That’s good, because I don’t think I could stay in a… world where that mentality was the prevalent one.”
Cat pretended to gasp in horror. “And give up your true love?”
He chuckled at his weakness being so blatant, and nudged Cat with his shoulder. “Maybe I would have convinced her to leave with me.”
Cat rolled her eyes and grunted an “Ugh.”
“Speaking of Lois, did you talk to her about us?” he asked, trying to hide his hope.
“Yes, Boy Scout, I told Lois that you came over for dinner last night and that we hadn’t gotten past appetizers before you were beeped into the office. Satisfied?” she snapped, but her smile belied her true feelings.
Clark grinned. “Thank you.” He was more than ready to put those rumors behind him.
“You know a man’s sexual appetite doesn’t hinder
his reputation with women,” Cat said, sitting back down at the sewing machine to finish hemming the bottom of Clark’s new cape. “Now watch what I’m doing, because this is a one-time deal, handsome. I’m not coming over to do this every time someone tries to blow you up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, standing behind her shoulder, amazed at her blasé attitude towards his fate. “And it matters to me.” He figured it would matter to Lois that he hadn’t slept with the woman who had shared Lois’ sexual history with the entire newsroom.
“You’ll never cease to astound me,” Cat responded with a shake of her head. “Take Jimmy for example, he wanted to know how we dangled from the rafters. What would he do if he knew we didn’t need the rafters to dangle?” She laughed.
He sighed. “Cat, is it possible to discuss anything with you without it turning into a conversation about sex?”
“Fine,” she scoffed playfully. “Do you want to hear the latest theory around the office on how to find Superman?”
Clark groaned, picking up his quart of milk left from dinner. “Do I?”
“For Jimmy it was a quite impressive theory,” she conceded. “He thinks we should be looking for your spaceship.”
He gasped into his milk, gagging.
Cat turned and faced him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said, between coughs. “I…” … never considered that aspect of Superman’s arrival before. “… was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
“Lois liked the idea enough to run off with it. You really need to talk to your girlfriend about that bad habit she’s developing in taking other people’s story ideas,” Cat said, pointing at him before turning back to the sewing machine.
“I don’t think anyone will find it,” he said with confidence. He had looked through Smallville often enough that if he hadn’t found it, no one would. Of course, he had no memory of how it looked or where exactly to look. Who knew what had happened to the spaceship in this dimension? Besides George Thompson, that was. He sighed. “And please don’t call Lois my girlfriend. Officially, she’s just my partner, for as long as her punishment lasts at least.”
“Actually…” Cat paused as she concentrated on the cape for a moment, turning the fabric. “You didn’t happen to leave it at the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility, did you?” Her expression seemed a tad too innocent as she avoided his gaze.
“
What? No,” he scoffed. “Why?”
“No reason. I’m sure your new partner will eventually learn to never steal another story again,” Cat suggested with a slight giggle. “It would serve Miss Holier-Than-Thou to be taken down a peg or two.”
“Cat!” Clark rebuked. “I refuse to defend you to her if this attitude continues. If you and I are to be friends, you need to learn to be nicer to Lois.”
“Yeah, right, Clark. I don’t see
that happening anytime soon,” Cat replied, pulling the cape from the machine and cutting the thread with her teeth. “I’ve tried to be friends with Lois; she doesn’t want any part of it. Apparently, I’m not in her stratosphere of the Daily Planet hierarchy. I’m just some lowly gossip monger.” She stood up and snapped out the cape. “Okay, big guy, take off your shirt and let’s see how this fits.”
Clark pulled off his shirt and took the cape from Cat. He hooked it around his arms. “How does it look?”
Cat came over to him and straightened the fabric around his neck, running her fingers over his bare chest.
He pressed his lips together in annoyance. “Cat, that’s my chest. The cape is on my back.”
She swallowed. “The chest… cape looks good, but I think I need to see the full effect. Drop them drawers.”
Clark crossed his arms over his bare chest and gazed at her with contempt.
“What?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I need to see the cape with the Suit. You know, see the whole ensemble together.”
He grinned. “Okay.” Then he spun into the Suit.
Cat’s scowl didn’t match her rough voice as she stared at him, “You’re just cruel, Clark Kent. Cruel.”
Clark laughed.
***End of Part 17 *** Part 18 Should Cat give up hope of ever catching that Kryptonian for herself? Place your bets here on the
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