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

Where we left off in Part 37 …

Clark saw Lois to her door. He seemed both relieved and disappointed that she had wanted to go home after her doctor’s appointment. He was trying to hide these emotions from her with a stoic expression that appeared odd on him. She could see that he liked having her rely on him and liked having her around, but there was just enough self-confidence in him that he didn’t want her using him. His façade slipped a second and she saw worry streak across his face like a shooting star as he went to unlock her apartment door for her. It was endearing how Clark worried about her, not like the over-protectiveness of Superman.

She set her hand on his arm to reassure him and discovered with his glance that it hadn’t been his self-confidence that had stopped them from moving into his bedroom after dinner. It was love.

Lois had never had anyone look at her the way Kent did, not even Superman. Superman gazed at her with a sadness, a love with no hope. Clark’s love-stricken gaze was pure love. Especially when he didn’t know she saw him, like at the hospital this evening. As the doctor changed her dressing, Clark wasn’t looking at her arm and the mess that it was. He was watching her face and reacting with his eyes to her every wince. She would have missed it, if she hadn’t caught his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Instinctively, she had turned to look at him to see if what she had seen was just a trick of light, but his expression had changed by the time she saw his face. She had squeezed his hand, glanced back at the wound that used to be her arm.

It looked worse than it felt. Well, as long as she kept it still and people weren’t prodding it. She had to turn away from it, and she once again caught sight of Clark’s expression of love in the mirror. It wasn’t an expression of adoration, or puppy-love, or desire, or longing. She didn’t know how else to describe it, only it must have been the same expression with which she gazed at Superman. Her pain was his pain. Her joy was his joy. Her sadness was his.

Lois realized that there was a small part of her that liked that Clark needed her in a way that Superman did not. It was the same small part of her which had pictured what it would be like being married to Clark, working together on stories, debating ideas over meals, laughing as he teased her – as he had that evening, and making love to someone who thought of pleasing her as much as, or more than, pleasing himself. It was also the small part of her that was attracted by his lack of pressure to move their relationship forward. The idea was like a bowl of chocolate pudding big enough for her to swim in, addicting but something she knew she probably would regret later.

Clark glanced at her hand on his arm, and then at her with curiosity.

“Can you…?” she started to ask before the door was pulled open in front of them and they were facing Lucy.

“Finally!” she gasped at them.

“Miss Lane, I warned you not to open the door,” said a dark haired man in a suit from beside Lucy. He was holding a gun.

Part 38

“I told you it was Lois. Hello? Keys!” Lucy complained to the man, before turning on her sister. “Where have you been?”

“Clark’s,” Lois answered sharply, shifting her focus to the stranger. “Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment with my little sister?”

“Sorry, Ms. Lane. Detective Wolfe,” he replied, flashing his badge and holstering his gun. “Henderson sent me and an electronics team here to make sure Superman had removed all the spyware from your apartment.”

“May I see that badge again, detective?” Lois asked coolly as Clark set a reassuring hand at the base of her back to guide her inside.

Detective Wolfe held out his badge again, and Lois stared at it, probably longer than necessary. It looked like a real badge, but she had thought those guys from the raid had been genuine feds at first, too. Would she really know if it was fake or stolen?

“All clear, detective,” said one of the electronics guys.

Lois exhaled, although she hadn’t doubted Superman’s thoroughness.

“Thank you, Detective Wolfe,” Clark said, holding out his hand. “I’m sure the ladies will sleep better knowing that.”

“So, Kent, you and Ms. Lane, huh?” Wolfe said with a grin that matched his name, shaking Clark’s hand. “Gutsy! I’ve heard about her.”

Clark seemed to dislike Wolfe’s words about Lois. “I’m her…”

“Lois! What in the hell is going on here?” Lucy screamed, covering up Clark’s explanation that they were only partners.

Surely, that was what Clark was going to say, wasn’t it?

“I came home from work,” Lucy continued. “—and these guys barge in flashing badges and telling me that somebody’s been spying on us.”

Lois knew this was going to be a long night, and not the kind of one she had been hoping for earlier. She turned to Wolfe. “Be sure and thank Henderson for me,” she said, glowering at the detective for sending her this headache. She had hoped to keep it from Lucy entirely. An ignorance was bliss sort of thing. She now admitted to herself that that assumption was probably naïve.

“Think nothing of it, Ms. Lane,” Wolfe said, taking her words at face value instead of how she meant them. With a wave of his hand, he ushered his team out.

Lucy crossed her arms and waited impatiently for Lois to explain.

Lois instead turned to her partner and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Clark.” She didn’t want him to go but it was better than having him witness the loving Lane sisters go at it like wildcats.

Clark nodded and kissed her cheek. “Good night.”

As he opened the door to leave, Lois set her hand on his arm, stopping him. “Thank you for…” saving me from myself, she wanted to say. “— everything.”

Clark smiled sheepishly. “It was…” He cleared his throat. “— nothing,” he said, but she knew that it hadn’t been.

“Not to me, Clark,” Lois said, leaning over and lightly brushing a kiss across his mouth. She didn’t know why she had done it, and it appeared that Clark was as shocked by the move as she was.

“Lois! Clark’s not staying? No! He has to stay,” demanded Lucy, pushing the door shut with Clark still inside the apartment.

They both turned and stared at Lucy.

“Some wacko out there has been filming us, and you want to leave us unprotected,” Lucy hollered.

Clark shook his head before opening the door. “Isn’t your sister a black belt or something?” he said more than asked Lucy, and stepped into the hall. “Call me if you need anything.” This he said to Lois.

She raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”

He paled slightly, luckily outside of Lucy’s view. Her sister didn’t need to know what had almost happened between them. “Third time’s the charm,” he said with a wink, kissed Lois’s cheek again, and shut the door behind himself. She didn’t know why he kissed her cheek, but she set her hand there for a moment anyway.

“How could you let Clark leave?” Lucy screamed. “Somebody’s been spying on us!”

“How does that make it Clark’s duty to protect us? You’re really taking this helpless female routine to the nth degree, Lucy,” Lois retorted.

“You should’ve told me,” whined Lucy, her fear shining through.

“I just learned about it myself today,” Lois replied, wrapping her good arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “Superman removed the cameras and microphones as soon as he discovered them.” This wasn’t exactly true, but she figured she didn’t need to be nitpicky over details at the moment.

“How long has this been going on?”

Lois’s eyes went wide. Had Lucy figured out about her and Superman? “How long has what been going on?” she asked with a slight shake to her voice.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Hello? Creepy stalker guy watching our every move? Did Superman tell you that there was a camera in our shower?”

“I told you, Lucy, I… What?! In our shower? He said that there was one in the bathroom, but I had thought…” Lois let her thought trail away as she raised a hand to her head. It was beginning to pound. She was tired of arguing. Her day had been long, exhausting, and emotionally draining. She didn’t need this. She plopped herself down on the sofa with a thud. She really needed to get softer furniture. Clark’s couch was much more comfortable than this. Clark was like his couch as Superman was to her sofa.

Lucy must have noticed a change in Lois’s attitude. “Is everything okay between you and Clark?” she asked.

“Yes. Fine,” Lois replied tersely. Only I made out with him and tried to jump his bones.

“You aren’t planning on dumping him again, are you? Because Jimmy says he was really crushed after that first time,” Lucy said, sitting down next to her.

Crushed? Really? Lois felt bad. She had done a real number on Clark. She had used him and abused him so many times, she was losing count. She couldn’t do that to him again. He deserved better. If she ever decided to grow their friendship to more, Lois would make sure to do so slowly, and only after she had time to heal both physically and emotionally. Although, frankly, she doubted she would ever recover completely from losing Superman. Panic and a deep sorrow overcame her as if she had lost him somehow, both completely and permanently. She shook her head at this thought. She hadn’t lost him, he was still around. He just would never be hers, and that ache she had been suppressing all afternoon came back two-fold.

“Earth to Lois,” Lucy said, waving a hand in front of her sister’s face.

Lois shot her a lopsided smile. “He’s an amazing kisser,” she admitted. Hell, she would have to stay away from those lips if they were going to be just friends, wouldn’t she? Superman had been right about one thing: kisses could be addicting. One kiss and she wanted more. Why hadn’t Superman allowed her just one kiss?

“Lo-is!” Lucy said, nudging her with a grin. “Soooooo?”

Lois swallowed, not wanting to tell anyone what she had done to Clark earlier. Clark had been right. She had wanted to punish both Superman and herself, and that hadn’t been fair to him. “We’ve decided to take it slow this time.” So slow, they weren’t even dating.

“Slow with kisses sounds hot!”

Lois blushed and stood up. “I’m not talking about this,” she told Lucy as she headed towards her bedroom. It had been very hot. A part of Lois still burned with the embers of their fire, but Clark was right. Sex with another man was the last thing she needed at this moment. She still wanted it, but she needed it about as much as she needed that bullet through her arm.

***

Clark had sat on the bench across the street from Lois’s building for an hour. After hearing Lois’s comment about him being an amazing kisser, he had difficulty leaving. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, honestly he hadn’t, especially after the last conversation he had listened in on between the Lane sisters, but he heard it just the same. He had practically floated down the stairs after she had kissed him goodbye.

Lois seemed as shocked as he felt by that kiss. Everyone thought they were dating again, but he was fine with friendship. He doubted that after everything that had happened to her recently she would be ready to move on anytime soon.

He recalled that after meeting the Lois from the other dimension and breaking up with Lana, he hadn’t wanted to do anything but sit on the rooftops and pine. Unfortunately, his secret identity had been blown and Clark Kent and Superman were suddenly not only in the spotlight, but household names. Pining hadn’t been an option. He hadn’t really mourned the loss of his relationship with Lana as it had really been over for quite some time, but he had mourned what could’ve been with Lois. After six months of pretending not to miss her, Perry had started to introduce him to other women, but they both knew it was impossible. Clark just wasn’t interested in moving on, or anyone else. He only wanted Lois Lane.

Clark was ashamed to admit that it took him a half-hour of sitting on the bench listening to Lois cry herself to sleep, before he had noticed the man in the car a little ways down the block. Their cab had passed the man when they came back from the hospital, and Clark hadn’t given it a second thought until he observed that the man was still sitting in his car. Clark got up from the bench and walked around the corner. The man didn’t move to follow him, though he did glance over at him, so Clark got a good look at his face. He made sure to note the license number of the car as well.

He went into the alley and flew home to get his blue suit. He had built a special panel in the back of his armoire to keep his Super suits. He pulled the heavy piece of furniture from his wall, took out a Suit, and put it on. He hadn’t really wanted to get into his suit, but Superman flying around keeping a look-out on Lois’s building and searching for surveillance equipment would probably be less suspicious than Clark doing those things.

Superman returned to Lois’s building and kept watch on the man in the car. At around two a.m. the man got out of the car and walked down the block to the payphone on the corner. Clark leapt from rooftop to rooftop following him. The man called a machine, but a car drove by as he was dialing and Clark missed several of the numbers he punched. The man left a message explaining when Lois and Clark had arrived at the building, what Clark’s movements had been, and when he had left. The man didn’t mention seeing Superman on the roof, a good sign. Clark had wondered if Henderson had left a security detail for Lois, but he was less sure since the man was alone. Most security details worked in pairs, and because the man had mentioned Wolfe’s actions.

The next morning the man was replaced by another man around seven a.m. Clark flew home to shower and change. He phoned work and got Jimmy, James Olsen, who had returned from sick leave, to let the office know he would be in later. Jimmy guessed that Lois would be with Clark. As much as Clark would love for Lois to remain at home, he knew he would much rather have her within sight. He stopped by a grocery store and picked up a few essentials before returning to Lois’s apartment door around eight.

“You didn’t need to buy me food, Clark. I can make myself breakfast,” Lois said after she let him in.

“Oh,” he said modestly, knowing full well that was her way of saying ‘thank you’. After last night’s thank-you-for-not-sleeping-with-me goodnight kiss, he decided he would do anything and everything possible to earn her gratitude, including making her a healthy breakfast. He moved into her kitchen.

“Well, I thought you might be hungry since we didn’t finish dinner.” Oh, why did I have to bring that up? One of the reasons he preferred guard duty to going back to his apartment was the lack of free time to think. He didn’t look at Lois after saying this, but he could hear her emotional response. “I figured we’d be busy working on Menken’s death and looking into your stalker, and you really should have a good breakfast to keep up your energy and help you regrow your muscle. Breakfast is the most important meal of…” he rambled on until she set her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“Chuck, I’m beginning to wonder if we’re spending too much time together,” she said.

“You are?” Clark asked, glancing over at her. She had said she’d see him in the morning. Had he come too early? Or had she meant at work? Perhaps coming with breakfast fixings…

“You’re starting to blather like me,” Lois finished.

“Oh,” he replied sheepishly and in relief. Then he said, by way of explanation, “I didn’t sleep well last night.” Or at all.

Lois smiled at him. “I bet.”

Clark flushed and glanced away. She believed it was the thought of her sitting on his lap at dinner that had kept him awake. He had been thinking of her, but not in that way and certainly not while in the super suit.

She didn’t seem to mind that she was the fuel for his erotic fantasies, which he took as a good sign. Actually, before last night’s influx of tactile information for his senses to ponder, his fantasies had been pretty tame and more romantic than erotic: them flying together, her and Superman kissing, and her moaning ‘Clark’ instead of ‘Superman’. More recently, his fantasies had been fueled by actual events. Her calling him on the phone to whisper naughty, sweet nothings in his ear. Her dropping by unannounced in the middle of the night, only not wearing sweats like she had the night Allie had died. After last night’s interrupted dinner, he had a whole slew of possibilities that involved Lois and food. He gulped. Perhaps offering to cook breakfast hadn’t been the best idea.

“Do you like sausage?” he asked, starting to unpack his grocery sack.

“I like sausage,” Lucy said, sitting down at the dining table. “You can cook for me anytime.”

“Lucy!” Lois scolded.

Clark pulled the package out of the bag. “Breakfast sausage. Links,” he explained, yet unable to face the Lane sisters.

“Lois!” Lucy mocked. “I was thinking food. What were you thinking of?”

“Food!” Lois insisted.

Even to Clark it sounded a bit forced. He wouldn’t even let himself consider any other possibilities for that word but food.

“Hot dogs actually,” Lois clarified.

“I see,” Lucy said too innocently. “You prefer the larger sausage to links. I’m sure Clark can comply.”

“Lucy!”

“And bring you some bratwurst later,” Lucy said unable to stop herself from laughing.

“Why didn’t I just bring bacon?” Clark grumbled, refusing to move away from the counter or face the Lane sisters.

“Excuse us, Clark,” Lois said, and dragged her sister off to the bathroom.

“Don’t listen in. Don’t listen in. Don’t listen in,” he repeated under his breath. Dear G*d, give me the strength to work with this woman without caving to my base desires.

Thankfully, the rest of breakfast went smoothly without any more double entendres.

“So,” Lois said as they left her apartment. “I read your article in today’s Planet on Menken’s death. Pretty basic stuff. We should stop by the Twelfth and see what new information we can find out.”

She went to turn left, but he caught her around the waist. “Let’s go this way,” Clark suggested, nodding to the right.

“That way is quicker,” Lois countered.

“I know. I just want to see something,” he explained vaguely. He didn’t want Lois to know they had a tail. He heard a car door shut and an engine start. He took a quick glance behind them.

The car that the tail had used as his base of observation was following them slowly. There was also a second, and new, man following them on foot.

At the corner, Clark deliberately turned left and crossed the street, stopping to pretend to look in the window of a store.

“You came this way to look at lamps? Is this really the best use of our time?” Lois asked impatiently. She had taken one day off from work and was acting like it had been a month.

Clark watched in the reflection of the window as the car turned left and parked across the street from the store.

“Clark!”

Drat, he would have to tell her. “Do you think they have magma lamps?”

“What?” Lois stared at him as if he was insane. Regrettably, it wasn’t for the first time.

He gazed inside the store and saw the magma lamps on the back shelf. “Oh! They do. My folks used to have one and I always wanted one, but… Let’s go inside,” he said with some insistence.

“I’ll go on to the Twelfth without you then, so you can finish furnishing your apartment,” Lois said, turning back towards her apartment.

“Aw, Lois, don’t be that way,” Clark said, circling back around her to block her path. “It will only take five minutes. Anyway, I want your opinion on the color.”

“What does it matter what color lamp I like, Clark? It’s going in your apartment,” she said.

Okay, drastic measures needed, creative tactics. “It’s for Lucy. A going away gift. Jimmy asked me to check the store, since I told him I’d be stopping by your place to pick you up.”

Lois pressed her lips together. “Fine, but you need to tell Jimmy that he should shop for his own gifts from now on.” She marched past him and into the store.

Clark followed her, keeping pace.

“Okay, Chuck, which lamps are the whatchamacallits?” she asked.

He grabbed her elbow and led her to the rows of magma lamps at the back of the store. He really did love these lamps. They reminded him of the innocence of his childhood. Lana would never let him have one. He had moved around so much growing up that owning something like this had been impractical.

“Purple. Let’s go,” Lois said, grabbing a box off the shelf.

“No, I like the red and orange one,” he said, returning her box and taking the other one.

Lois put her hand on her hip and glared at him. “This really isn’t for Lucy, is it?”

Clark blushed. “No…”

She slugged him in the bicep, and started marching out.

He raced after her, wrapping an arm around her waist to avoid her sore arm, and pulling her back against his front. “We’re being followed,” he whispered into her ear. “Play along.”

Lois froze at his words. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. “Who?”

Clark nuzzled by her ear and murmured a description of the car and the man at the window.

She nodded her acceptance of this information.

The bell of the store rang and the man who had just been looking in the window entered.

Lois giggled in a most un-Lois like way and turned to face Clark. “Really, Clark, by lava lamp? I’ve heard of doing it by candlelight, and by moonlight, but by lava lamp? Didn’t you fulfill that fantasy back in college?”

Clark had no idea what she was talking about. Glancing down at the box in his hand, he saw it was called a ‘lava lamp’ not a ‘magma lamp’ as it was in his dimension. Ooops. Then her words soaked in, and he realized she had insinuated about making love by them. An image of that very scene flashed across his mind and he smiled. So much for childhood innocence. He took a few steps back to the shelf and took down a second box.

Lois laughed and slugged him again as he took the two boxes to the cashier. “You’ve got to be kidding. Two?”

He beamed at her, and shrugged. “I’ve got some fantasies to catch up on, I guess.”

She rolled her eyes, and then lowered her voice, so their tail couldn’t hear her, “Are you going to carry those around town?”

Clark slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to whisper into her ear. “We’ll swing by my place and give Henderson a heads up that we’re coming bearing gifts.”

Lois giggled in that weird way again, and said, “Claaaark, we’re supposed to be working.”

He handed the cashier a couple of twenties and tapped Lois’s nose. “I’m supposed to be working. You’re supposed to be taking it easy and resting your arm,” he reminded her.

“That’s not happening,” she said.

“Which is why I’m bringing you along,” Clark said, taking his change.

Lois scoffed. “You’re ‘bringing me along’? Tagging along is more like it.”

Clark figured he deserved that barb, so he let it pass. “Right you are, Lois. So, am I here for the entertainment value, or as your manservant?” They left the store and headed towards Clinton Street. He heard the engine of the car across the street start.

“Do they have male concubines where you’re from?” she teased with that giggle again.

“Kansas? No, they frown on them there,” he retorted, wondering about her strange question.

She leaned close and murmured, “No, your home dimension.”

“No, Kansas is the same no matter where you go. That’s why there’s no place like home,” he replied.

Lois giggled that annoying sound again, and Clark stopped and faced her. “What was that?”

Her brow furrowed. “What was what?”

“That hideous giggle-laugh thing you keep doing.”

This time she laughed her normal laugh as she raised her hand to her pink cheeks. “No?”

“Oh, God, no! Shoot me now,” he said, making her only laugh harder. He glanced back and saw that the man following them had come out of the store. Clark continued walking so the man wouldn’t catch up too quickly and be able to overhear their conversation.

“Well, I’ve heard other women laugh like that when they’re flirting. Lucy, Cat, and some other women… I thought it worked for my character,” she said.

“What character?” he asked, completely lost.

“Flirtatious girlfriend. Wasn’t that what you wanted, when you told me to ‘play along’?” Lois asked.

“Lois, you’re still supposed to be you. You’re not undercover – there is no character to create. These men are following Lois Lane and are interested only in Lois Lane, not Chuck and Wanda Dane,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I made it…”

“Lola,” Lois said out of the blue.

“What?” he sputtered.

“It’s Lola Dane, not Wanda Dane. I had initially gone with Wanda Detroit, but that name just felt odd,” she said, and then slugged him. “I can’t believe you read my novel.”

“What novel?” Clark said, once again lost with her train of thought.

“My novel.”

“I didn’t read your novel,” he replied.

“Then how did you know about Chuck and Wanda… I mean, Lola?” Lois asked.

“Well, I’m Chuck, and I just drew Wanda out of thin… Wait a minute. Wanda… Uh… Lola’s love interest is Chuck in your novel?” he asked, raising a brow at her.

Lois didn’t look at him as they turned the corner. “Noooooo,” she said slowly.

“You just said, and I’m quoting, ‘Then how did you know about Chuck and Wanda?’ I’m Chuck.”

“No, you’re Clark,” she corrected.

“Who you call ‘Chuck’,” he reminded her.

Lois rolled her eyes. “And your point is?”

“You named your hero after me,” Clark said with a beaming smile.

She stopped at the door of his building and faced him. “No, Clark. My hero came first, then came you.”

“So, you named me after your hero?” he stated more than asked. “Your romantic hero.”

“My dead hero,” she retorted, and it sounded like she wanted to make Clark her ‘dead’ partner.

“Do I remind you of your romantic hero?” Clark asked, not only because he was perfectly fine with her thinking of him as her idealized romantic hero, but because he was a glutton for punishment. He turned and started them up the stairs to his apartment, his hand resting on the base of her back for a moment.

“No!… Yes… Maybe… I don’t know… Yes, a little bit,” Lois conceded reluctantly. “And I didn’t name you after… I mean, because of him. His name isn’t Chuck.”

“What is his name then?”

“None of your business,” she replied tersely.

Clark was silent up the next flight of stairs. He was debating whether he should ask the question on the tip of his tongue, or if he should just let the matter drop. Lois seemed to be getting annoyed by the subject, but he was curious. She had said when they met that he reminded her of someone. If he had reminded her of her character, he was curious how? Physically or personality wise? It must be physically, because she didn’t know anything about his personality at that point.

Lois said she wasn’t psychic, but she kept pulling these weird factoids, like people’s names she had never met, out of the air. If her dead hero of her novel looked like him, was it some kind of soul mate thing? No, that was impossible. She had never met her Clark. He died as an infant, long before they met. Was it a past lives thing? Had their souls met, or her soul and her Clark’s soul, met in a past life? If they had, there wasn’t a way for her to know that.

A crackle of a two-way radio buzzed in his ear. “They’re on their way up. Get out of there now!”

“Fine. I’ll tell you. It’s…” Lois started.

“I’ll meet you up there,” Clark said, and jogged quickly past her and up the stairs to the next landing. He super sped his way up to the floor before his and then slowed down to jog into view as himself. He could see the door to his apartment open a crack. He tilted down his glasses to see two men dumping wires, cameras, and microphones into toolboxes. He could fly in there and capture them as Superman, but he wasn’t wearing his super suit, so he would have to do it as Clark Kent. As he pondered the best way to do this, the men ran to his front door. He set the bag with his new lamps next to his front door, and pushed the door in on them, knocking them down the stairs down to his living room.

“Hey, what are you doing in my apartment?” Clark asked, going inside. He crossed his arms and blocked the only exit, apart from his balcony door. They looked more technically savvy than brawny.

“Maintenance,” one of the men had the forethought to answer.

“Where are you guys?” the radio crackled again. “They should be up there any second.”

Ah, there’s the muscle.

Clark raised an eyebrow at them. “I don’t think so. Go, sit down,” he said, nodding to his dining room table.

His front door opened into his back, pushing him forward. Luckily, he was able to catch himself before falling down the landing.

“Clark!” Lois said. “What in the hell was… Who are those guys?” She had finally stepped into the room, and was staring at the men in Clark’s living room.

“I needed to…” Clark coughed, hoping she would infer something on her own. “Only I found these two coming out of my apartment. Call Henderson, will you?”

“Are these the same idiots who wired my apartment?” Lois growled, marching towards them.

“Lo-is,” Clark groaned, following before she got herself in trouble.

She stuck a finger in one man’s face, and turned to shake it in the other man’s. “Who do you work for?”

The men looked at each other and shook their heads. Close enough now, Clark took the radio away from the men. “Sit down.”

The men backed into the dining room chairs. Clark stepped over to his telephone and one of the men decided to try to make a run for it. Lois shot out her leg and kicked him, flooring him. “You’re lucky Superman isn’t here,” she told them.

A hint of a smile brushed over Clark’s lips, not envying those men one iota. Superman lived by a credo, not to hurt his fellow man. Lois Lane apparently did not.

***End of Part 38***

Part 39

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