Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Wrong Clark (28/??)

Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Part 27

Part 28

********
Survivors
********

Allie was dead. Lois stood in the family waiting room, staring at the doctor who had just delivered the news.

“We tried, Ms. Lane, but your uncle’s heart couldn’t survive the shock. I’m sorry.”

Her uncle? Allie was an old family friend, but no blood relative. “Uncle?”

“Wasn’t Allie Dinello your uncle?” asked the doctor, looking down at the chart in his hand. “Superman told the admitting nurse that he thought that he was your uncle and that you would be in shortly.”

“I was with Allie when he had the heart attack and said he was like an uncle,” explained Lois, though nothing of the kind had happened. “Superman must have misunderstood.”

The doctor nodded. “We’ll need to have his next of kin information, so that we can contact them.”

“I believe I put it on the forms I filled out. I’ll double check before I leave.”

“I’m sorry again for your loss,” the doctor said once more.

Lois wouldn’t believe Allie was gone. It seemed like just a few hours ago he was greeting her with a hug and calling her ‘pumpkin’. Now, he was dead.

Someone tried to kill him because he had wanted to meet her and tell her something. Poor Allie. He didn’t deserve this, especially since he was trying to do the right thing.

She felt numb. It was horrid, what happened to Allie, but, for some strange reason, not surprising. She had even warned Allie to be careful; the foreboding had been so strong when he had called earlier. She hadn’t expected Superman to show up. When he had swooped in and saved the day, she had been full of anticipation, a rush of adrenaline, of excitement, for her drab boxing story and for Allie’s chances, and then his heart gave out.

There she was at the hospital, dealing with doctors, nurses, paperwork, and filing a report with MPD about the truck which had almost run Allie over. The officer believed it to have been a drunk, no matter what Lois said to try and sway him otherwise.

Lois had dealt with all that stuff on her own. It would’ve been nice to have someone meet her at the hospital, or to wait with her as the emergency personnel worked on Allie, or to be with her now as she had to deal with her grief.

For some odd reason, Lois felt like she should be an old hand at dealing with grief, although she didn’t know why she should feel this way. She had dealt with her share of death as a newspaper reporter, but personal grief, grief for someone she had known and loved, was still a new experience. What she really felt was lost, numb and lost. She wanted to bury her head in to a strong, warm chest and cry.

She didn’t need a man. Lois knew that, but it would have been nice to have someone to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She wanted someone to reassure her that she hadn’t caused Allie’s death by agreeing to meet with him, someone who would help her make sure that whoever tried to kill Allie would be investigated until the reason was uncovered, so that Allie’s death wouldn’t be in vain.

Lois wasn’t sure who to call. She would feel ridiculous standing on her roof or at her living room windows, calling to Superman. It wasn’t an emergency, so ‘Help Superman’ wouldn’t be right, and calling ‘Octopus’ into the night just sounded silly. Not as silly as she would feel calling Superman to come just to hold her. Just as he couldn’t be there in the hospital with her, she was beginning to realize what he meant when he said “being Lois’ significant other wasn’t ‘a job for Superman”, no matter how much he wished it could be.

Maybe it was time that she finally started to listen to her Man in Blue, and move on.

No. ‘Move on’ was the wrong phrase. She would always love Superman. There would never be another man she loved like him. She had finally come to accept why a relationship with her public hero would never work. Having come to terms with that realization meant it was time for her to continue her life.

Lois finished up at the hospital and returned to her apartment. She felt like a zombie. It was the middle of the night, and she was tired and her chest ached like someone had made a hole in it to take her heart out.

There was a message on her machine from Lucy. She was crashing on the Jimmys’ couch because Jimmy needed someone to take care of him and ‘Jimbo’ – Lois had never heard Lucy call new Jimmy that – and James’ other roommates were incapable of doing so properly. Poor Jimmy, Lois thought with a shake of her head. He had no idea what he was in for.

Lois would tell Lucy of Allie’s death in the morning. She doubted as if her sister had been as close to the man as Lois had once been.

Suddenly, the pain in her chest from losing Allie, and letting go of her hope of a relationship with Superman, exploded inside of her. Since the first moment Superman had arrived in Metropolis, Lois had been in love with him. Every breath she had taken had been for him. She would never be able to stop loving him; she doubted she would be able to breathe without him.

She turned to her kitchen and it wasn’t until she was pulling out her carton of chocolate ice cream, did she realize what she was doing. Chocolate ice cream wasn’t going to make her feel better. It wouldn’t give her the comfort she craved. She dropped the carton of ice cream back into her freezer and picked up the telephone.

“Hello?” answered a groggy voice.

What was she doing? Why was she calling Clark? Especially in the middle of the night? He didn’t need to always be burdened with her problems. She shouldn’t have called him.

“Hello?” Clark repeated because Lois never spoke.

She just loved the sound of Clark’s Midwest timbre.

“Is anyone there?” he said again.

Lois didn’t know why she wasn’t hanging up, but hearing Clark’s voice on the other end of the line made every emotion flood to the surface, causing her to sniffle.

“Lois?” he asked, his voice full of worry.

“Allie died,” she told him as the tidal wave of tears emerged.

“I’ll be right there,” he announced, and she could hear him climb out of bed.

Oh, God! No! Lois couldn’t have Clark come over when she was an emotional wreck. Who knew what she might do?

“No! No!” she countered his suggestion.

Of course, she could really use his shoulder to cry on, and his arms around her.

“Yes, all right,” she agreed.

It would feel good to have his lips against her neck. The way his hands could caress her body making her forget everyone and everything.

“No! Clark, I just…” Her voice faded away as the end of that sentence got caught in her throat. I just wanted to hear your voice.

“Oh,” Clark stated, and she could hear the disappointment. He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, Lois. No promises, okay.”

What was he talking about? “No promises about what, Clark?”

“Finding him, but you know what, Lois? Forget everything I said. If you need him, I’ll find…”

“Clark!” Lois interrupted, realizing that Clark thought that she had called him to drag him out of bed to find Superman for her. She buried her face in her hand. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to go after Superman. “Why do you like me?”

“What?” Clark sputtered.

“How can you stand being around me? I use you, abuse you, ruin your reputation at work, fight you on everything, and then come cry on your shoulder every time something goes wrong in my life,” she sobbed.

“There’s no accounting for tastes, I guess,” he replied.

Despite her tears Lois couldn’t help but let the unexpected chuckle escape. “Aren’t we a mixed-matched set of bookends?”

“You’ve seen my style, Lois. I’d rather have something in my life that’s unique, even if it’s an odd piece. Too much symmetry is bad for one’s soul,” Clark replied.

How did Clark know exactly what she needed to hear? “Can we just talk?”

Clark didn’t respond right away, but she knew he was there because she heard his bed springs squeak. Finally, he asked, “You want to talk to me? Now?”

Lois felt dreadful. Of course, he didn’t want to talk now. It was the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, Clark. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No! Of course, it’s okay, Lois. I can talk. It’s just I thought you wanted…”

Him. Superman. She noticed that they often spoke about Superman, but rarely ever used his name. They both knew who Clark was speaking about, even without him saying the name. She again felt horrible about the way she had treated Clark. He hadn’t done anything to deserve her ire.

Well, except sleep with Cat, and lie about it to her face! Lois knocked the incident out of her mind. That only would really matter if she was considering a real boyfriend – girlfriend relationship with Clark, which she wasn’t. If Superman couldn’t have her, nobody could.

“This isn’t about what I want, Clark, but about what I can have.”

“So, you’re settling for me? Gee, thanks,” he said in that teasing tone that let her know he was quite all right with what she said.

“If you’re fishing for a compliment, know right now, Chuck, you aren’t going to get it,” she replied in the same tone.

“Trust me, Lois, I would have serious doubts on your identity if you woke me out of a sound sleep to compliment me,” Clark responded wryly.

This little dig reminded Lois that she did wake him up in the middle of the night. “You’re right, Clark. I’ll let you get back to your beauty sleep. Heaven knows you could use it. I heard rumors about some woman in advertising who hasn’t yet drooled over your cute butt.” Damn! He got her to compliment him.

Clark chuckled. “So, were the rumors about my ‘cute butt’ – your words, not mine – or about the woman not drooling over it?”

Lois rolled her eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Maybe you could find me this woman’s phone number for me. I might want to ask her out sometime. You don’t know how attractive a woman is, who refuses to give the time of day to a man.”

Was he telling her that he found her attractive because she didn’t do anything but ignore him all the time? Maybe if they partnered up again, he wouldn’t seem so attractive. Would Clark lose his appeal the better she got to know him like most other men she met? Would it be easier not to think about him, dream about it, reminisce about kissing him, if he was no longer looking at her like she was his entire world?

“Wherever will I find an investigative reporter to delve into the depths to unravel this unsolved mystery?” he teased.

Lois wasn’t quite sure if this was another dig on her status as an investigative reporter or his? Thinking about investigative reporters reminded her of what had happened with Allie and why she had called Clark in the first place. Grief and guilt flooded her.

“Oh, Clark,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe Allie’s dead. I’ve known him since I was a little girl.” She smiled fondly through her tears. “My father would sometimes bring me down to the gym when he needed to meet with an injured boxer. He would go work his voodoo magic and I’d hang out with Allie. He taught me everything there was to know about boxing and some things I probably shouldn’t have learned.”

“I’m sorry, Lois. I didn’t know… Voodoo magic?” Clark actually sounded perplexed.

“Yeah. My dad’s the Dr. Sam Lane. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Everyone who knows anything about sports has heard about him,” Lois said, rolling her eyes. “It wasn’t like Perry assigned me this story because I can rattle off boxing stats in my sleep. He thought I’d use my ‘connection’ to Menken’s gym. Well, it didn’t work. My father doesn’t know anything I’d want to ask him about anyway.” Lois’ hands started to shake. She hadn’t wanted to talk about her dad, because talking about him always made her angry, and she was dangling two toes off the edge already.

“You’re lucky,” Clark murmured in that quiet way he had that made her listen more intensely.

“Lucky?” Lois snapped. One entire foot was off the edge now and the big toe of her other foot. “Lucky?! Have you ever met someone that was so wrapped up in their work that they don’t have time for anyone or anything?”

“Huh?”

“My dad is a workaholic who just came home to criticize. ‘Daddy, I got ninety-eight on this test!’ ‘Oh, that’s good, Lois, that leaves two points for improvement,’” she scoffed.

“Oh, Lois, I didn’t know. I’d give anything…” Clark exhaled and wisely changed the subject. “Do you think Allie’s death might have to do with your story?”

“When he called, he sounded upset, and said he had something to tell me about Fight Night, but didn’t want to say anymore on the phone,” Lois sniffled and wiped her nose again. “I saw the truck almost plow him down, Clark. If it hadn’t been for Superman…” She closed her eyes in a wince. How many times had Superman saved someone only to have them die anyway? He was so caring and loving, something like this must break him up inside. Lois wished she could hold him and tell him it wasn’t his fault, but… How could she call Superman and tell him that the man he saved had died anyway? She didn’t want to be the one to bring him that news. “But Allie ended up dying of a heart attack anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Lois,” Clark said, his voice wavering with emotion. He genuinely sounded sorry.

“MPD doesn’t believe my story that the driver was aiming at Allie. The officer I talked to thought it was some drunk. ‘Why should the truck stop if he didn’t hit anyone?’ he told me,” Lois said, throwing up her hand in disbelief.

“I believe you, Lois. If you said you saw it, then you saw it. We’ll look into it tomorrow,” he reassured her.

“It’s not your story, Clark. It’s mine. You’ve got that series on the drowning deaths of the gang members,” she reminded him.

“Oh, I finished that series up; hopefully the drownings will stop now that they know Superman and MPD are looking into it. I thought I could…” Clark stopped in the middle of his sentence, once again not finishing his thought. “You’re right, Lois. I’m sorry. It’s your story.”

“Damn straight it’s my story, and Allie died because of it,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Lois, it’s not your fault. He died because…” Clark paused to take a breath. “— because there was something wrong and stopping it was worth risking his life for. Someone else is to blame for his death, not you.”

Another tear crept down her cheek. “I know it’s not my fault. It’s the fault of the man who tried to kill him,” she retorted.

“The driver didn’t see you, did he?” he asked.

“You sound like Superman,” she said.

Clark’s voice squeaked. “I do?”

“He asked me the same question.”

“Oh.”

“For the record, no, he didn’t see me, so there’s no point in killing me, I don’t know anything,” she said. “Allie hadn’t had a chance to tell me anything.”

“Do you think they know that? Maybe I should come over there…” he suggested, and Lois heard his bedspring creak as he stood up.

“Clark, I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need you or anyone coming over to protect me. You’re being paranoid.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m just a phone call away, Lois. Or you’re always welcome here,” he said.

“In your dreams, Chuck. I’m going to bed,” she said, slamming down the phone. As if she needed him or any man. Hello? Superman was just one ‘help Superman!’ away.

Lois marched down the hall to her bedroom. Without Clark’s voice whispering in her ear, her apartment suddenly felt awfully quiet in the deep dark middle of the night.

“Men!” she grumbled. “They were always thinking that women couldn’t handle anything on their own, that we couldn’t be proactive on our safety, that we always scream for help…”

She changed into her sweats and then went into the bathroom. “Faugh!” she scoffed, running a comb through her hair, before brushing her teeth. “Who needs him?!”

***

Clark woke up to a knocking at his door. He had only just gotten back to sleep after Lois’ phone call. He was just starting to have a nice dream, a very nice dream. Lois had decided to stop over instead of call…

The knocking became more persistent. He rubbed his eyes, climbed out of bed, and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand on the way to the door. “Coming!” he called to whomever it was. He tilted down his glasses and saw Lois standing there. He unlocked and opened his front door. “Lois?” Was he still dreaming? No, in his dreams Lois wasn’t wearing sweats.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. She paused at the bottom of the steps and looked around. There was something about this apartment that always made her pause. No matter how many times she came over – okay, there had only been those couple of times, Clark admitted to himself – her initial reaction always seemed to be the same.

“Did something happen, Lois, since you hung up on me?” Clark asked, not wanting the words to sound so harsh, but she had hung up on him. Now, he realized it might have been to come over here. Had he invited her? Not that it really mattered. She was always welcome. Always.

“I didn’t hang up on you,” she corrected him.

Right! He had forgotten. She was never ‘wrong’.

“I just realized I didn’t want to be alone.”

So, she came here? “Where’s Lucy?” he asked without thinking. Truthfully, he didn’t want to know, since it probably had to do with Jimbo, and if he thought too much about it…

“She’s taking care of Jimmy,” Lois said, slowly entering Clark’s living room, her initial tension easing.

“What happened to Jimmy?” Or had Lois meant…? No, Lois would never have referred to a booty-call, especially one involving her sister, like that.

“Tommy Garrison cracked his ribs,” Lois reminded him.

“Isn’t Lucy dating the other Jimmy?” Normally, he was more on the ball, but between her unexpected phone call and this sudden visit, Clark was knocked off kilter. He hadn’t had this much one on one attention from Lois since… well, ever.

“I think they broke up,” she murmured with a shrug. “Can I have some tea?”

“Uh… Sure,” Clark said, thrown off by this question. Did Lois drink tea? “I think I might have some chamomile or black.”

She stared at him as if he had grown tentacles. “Oolong?”

He smiled as a happy memory darted to the forefront of his mind of drinking the tea with a family whom he had rescued after an earthquake. “Sorry. That does sound good though. Gosh, I haven’t had Oolong in years since I was traveling around in China.” Lana didn’t like it when he bought or cooked anything exotic that reminded her of his travels, because of how he had gotten there. He shook his head. He was starting to realize how much of his life he had let Lana control. He pointed over his shoulder to the door. “I could pop out and get some.”

Lois looked him up and down. “Chamomile is fine.”

Glancing down, Clark realized that he had answered his door in just his sleep shorts. He lifted his eyes back to Lois’ and saw that she was staring as if she had just noticed his lack of attire as well.

“Do you always sleep naked?” she asked, tilting her head to peer into his bedroom. “Or did I interrupt something?”

Blushing, he backed towards his bedroom. “I’ll just throw on a shirt.” While he was there, he quickly cleaned his room, picking up some clothes he had left on the floor that morning. Not that he was expecting Lois to enter his bedroom, but he’d rather be safe than sorry if she decided to snoop.

“How about a parka, while you’re at it?” he heard Lois mumble under her breath.

Clark paused with his shirt half on, wondering why Lois would want him to put on a parka. Probably because she thought he should be reassigned to the Antarctic to get him out of her hair, but then again, she was here. He was stumped by her logic, pleasantly so, but still stumped. Lois Lane always seemed to keep him, whether Clark or Superman, on his toes.

He glanced at himself in the mirror, ran a hand through his hair, and went directly into his kitchen to put the kettle on. Actually, he didn’t own one, but the previous tenant had left one in the cabinet. He pulled it out, blew off the dust, and filled it half-full of water. As he set it on the stove to heat, he gave the water a couple of short heat-vision blasts to warm it up, not that he wanted her visit to be of shorter duration, but because he was impatient himself. He retrieved a couple of mugs and his box of chamomile.

He found Lois looking at the titles on his bookshelf. She paused and picked up a photo of him and Jimmy at a baseball game from earlier that summer. He watched her set that down and pick up a Cycladic statue that he had bought at a tourist shop in the Grecian islands. After Superman had saved Lois from the Gold Repository vault and Lois had admitted to dreaming about kissing Clark, he had decided to reward himself by getting out of Metropolis for a few hours. The statue was of a faceless couple intertwined as one. He thought it was a good representation of how he imagined soul mates.

Clark wasn’t quite sure why Lois was at his apartment in the middle of the night, but she had this “little girl lost” quality about her. He had never heard her be so quiet.

“The tea will be ready in a minute,” he said, breaking the silence first.

Lois nodded and set down the statue, her fingers resting on it a moment longer, before she moved to the couch and sat down.

Not knowing what exactly to do, he mimicked her actions and sat down at the other end.

“How come you’re so nice?” she asked.

Clark wasn’t sure quite how to answer that question or if it was rhetorical. He shrugged. “My folks, I guess.”

A spark of interest shimmered in her eyes. “Tell me about them.”

He was saved from this inquiry by the tea kettle, which had picked that moment to whistle. Clark poured the hot water into the mugs and tried to think of a way to turn the topic off him. As he carried the mugs to the couch, he said, “Would your dad know what Allie did? Or know who might have a grudge against him?”

“I don’t know. Possibly.” She groaned. “I guess that means I’ll have to go talk to him.” Lois sounded like the act would be pure torture.

“I could go with you,” Clark volunteered.

Lois grimaced. “No… Thank you, Clark, but if he is willing to talk, he won’t be if I bring along a stranger.”

Clark nodded at this logic and blew lightly on his tea before taking a sip.

“Argh! Clark, how do you deal with your dad?” she asked, her frustration erupting.

Clark leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees as he stared into his tea. There was no escaping that direct question. What could he say other than tell her the truth, and hope that she never felt the need to investigate his past? His parents died when he was ten in his dimension. Martha and Jonathan Kent were alive in this one. He didn’t want to lie to Lois, he had already done enough of that, but could he blur the lines a bit on the truth. Not give too many details, he guessed, until… until, when Kent? Would he ever be able to tell her that not only was he a strange visitor from a now destroyed other planet, but also from another time and another dimension? Perhaps he could continue with his vague answers and hope that she didn’t dig deeper.

He was about to answer when Lois spoke again. “Have you ever lost someone you love? How do you deal with knowing that no matter how much you want for them to be a part of your life, they never will be?”

He tilted up his gaze and saw her staring at him with an expression of despair which filled her eyes with tears. He set down his mug and held out his arm. She leaned against his shoulder, letting the tears flow, as he closed his arms back around her. He hadn’t realized how close she and Allie had been, or was she mourning the loss of her father’s love that Sam Lane had never given her?

Clark rested his cheek against the top of her head, lightly kissing her hair. “One day at a time, Lois,” he answered.

***

Lois walked into the newsroom and saw Clark’s eyes already gazing on her, searching, questioning. She shook her head. No go. Her father wouldn’t tell her a thing about Allie Dinello and what his old friend had wanted to tell her. Actually, her father flat out told her to stay away from the story. Ha! Like that wasn’t a challenge if she ever heard one.

Clark was standing at her desk, when she got there. “I spoke to Superman. He got the license from that truck that almost hit Allie. Jimmy’s running the numbers now.”

She rested her head against his chest. “Thanks for last night, Clark,” she said with a yawn. “And this morning. You’re a good friend.”

He took hold of her hand and kissed her forehead. “Hey, I got to sleep with a beautiful woman in my arms. Can’t beat that,” he replied in a light teasing tone.

“You know that we’ll never be more than friends, don’t you, Clark?” she said, as his thumb continued to caress the back of her hand, sending delicious waves of heat up her arms. She hoped her words would get him to stop, or even pause, but it didn’t.

“Whatever you say, Lois. Whatever you say.”

Lois tilted her head, so that she could look Clark in the eyes trying to understand what he meant. What she saw seemed to go on forever. Clark would accept any kind of relationship she offered, whether co-worker, friend, lover, or more; he just wanted to be with her.

“My heart belongs to him,” she whispered, trying to let him down easy.

“I know.”

“It will always belong to him,” she corrected.

“I know,” Clark repeated.

“Always.”

“I’m okay with that, Lois. Really,” he said, reaching up and pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Just don’t shut me out. That’s all I ask.”

“Don’t expect that I’m going to come over again and crawl into b…”

“Lois! CK!” Jimbo said, bouncing up to her desk, and causing Clark to step away from her first.

Lois hadn’t realized that they were standing so close in the middle of the newsroom. She must be more tired than she thought.

“I ran that plate CK asked about,” Jimbo continued, lowering his voice. “I had to hack into the DMV, so if some guys come by in sunglasses and suits and ask for me, you don’t know anything about it.”

“What did you learn?” Clark asked, trying to get to the heart of the matter. He was standing next to Lois, their shoulders still touching, causing a slow burning ache in her stomach… no, lower down.

“Stolen. Somebody reported the truck stolen two days ago. It was found abandoned this morning down at the docks. The police suspect joyriding kids. Sorry,” Jimbo said with an apologetic shrug. “Oh, and Lois, I’ve been checking out the stats on Menken’s top four contenders for you; you know the top billing for Saturday’s fight? They all are, like, undefeated in the past year. Each of them in his own weight class.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” she said, as her brow furrowed.

Jimmy nodded and bounced away.

“What are you thinking?” Clark asked, and she realized he was touching her hand again.

After months of little to no physical contact between her and Superman, just this little touch from Clark sent fireworks up her arm, but she could handle it. She hadn’t kissed Clark the night before, and he hadn’t kissed her. Sure, she had fallen asleep in his arms on the couch and he had carried her to his bed to sleep. He had taken off her shoes, tucked her under his blankets, and kissed her cheek goodnight, but that was all. If she hadn’t taken hold of his arm and asked him to stay with her, she knew he would have slept on the couch. Even so, he stayed on top of the covers with her underneath. He had been a perfect gentleman, and she hadn’t jumped his bones. She could do this.

Lois could be friends with Clark, and just friends. Not friends with benefits. Not anything more than friends, except maybe best friends. Her theory about Clark had been right. Maybe the more time she spent with him, the more control she would have, like with chocolate. If she denied herself any, all she would do was crave it. By allowing these little touches with Clark, she wouldn’t be craving him all the time. Why hadn’t she seen this answer earlier? Duh! Chocolate was the answer to all of life’s problems.

“Lois?” Clark asked, and she realized she hadn’t been listening.

She stepped away from him and sat down. Little doses, there, Lane, or you’ll become addicted. “There’s something I want to check out,” she told him.

Of course, there was still the problem with Clark’s weird factor, but maybe she’d be lucky and that would fade the more she got to know him. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe he didn’t have oolong tea on hand. That was just strange; even stranger than her knowing that he loved oolong tea, or that there was a oolong tea to begin with.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Clark asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at the files she had just opened on her desk, and she couldn’t miss that hopeful note in his tone.

She smiled up at him with a wink. “I’ve got this one covered, Chuck. Thanks.”

***End of Part 28 ***

Part 29

Should you feel the need, please post your comments Here .

Cycladic art is one of my favorite forms of sculpture from Ancient Greece. This is best example of what Clark’s statue could have looked like: (apologies for sending you to a shopping site to look at pictures, but this was the best site I could find) Cycladic Art