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

Where we left off in Part 44 …

“Hey, how did your date with Lois go?” Jimmy asked, following him.

Clark smiled. He wanted to say he hadn’t spent the night, but Jimmy wouldn’t get the joke, and, frankly, Lois would kill him. He wanted to say it went off without a hitch, but that hadn’t happened either. Lois had totally Mad Dogged him when they had returned to her apartment.

Personally, he liked her ultimatum better. Her not letting him leave her apartment, until he told her something she wanted to know, that was. Sadly, they both knew that that option wasn’t ever going to happen. She’d get too mad and kick him out, and he’d be the good guy and leave when she asked him to. Clark had tried to explain to her that the reasons weren’t important, only the results. He really didn’t need another woman to tell him it was all in his mind, and to ‘get over it’.

Instead Lois had taken his hand in hers and asked him if it had to do with his parents’ death. He could only stare at her. Was he really that transparent? Or was she that good of an investigator? She had enfolded him into her arms and held him without asking any more questions, or even talking. He had thought it might be easier to speak of it without having to look in her eyes, but as the images and smells passed through his mind again as he tried to figure out how to describe what happened, Clark discovered he couldn’t do anything but try to push them away.

Lois must have sensed something, because she had tightened her hold on him, whispering, “It’s okay, Clark. You’re safe now.”

The words hadn’t come but the tears had. He hadn’t sobbed like he had when it had first happened, when he was ten, but he wept. It was just the two of them, and unlike the night she was shot, no one interrupted them. With her holding him, he had felt safer than he had felt in twenty years, safe enough to let go. He had only hoped she wouldn’t look down upon him for letting his emotions get the best of him.

Clark cleared his throat. “It went well.” Lois had let him kiss her, which was more than he had hoped for.

“That’s great, CK,” Jimmy said. “I’ll go see what I can find on Ms. Kahn.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Clark replied, watching the young man head to his desk.

Clark let his mind briefly replay his and Lois’s goodnight kiss from the night before. It wasn’t their first kiss, and it certainly wouldn’t be their last. It was without a doubt a step in the right direction.

He picked up the handset for his telephone and flipped through his rolodex until he came across the phone number and name for his contact at GCPD. His source would tell him who to contact regarding Ms. Kahn’s death. Before he could dial, he heard a bank alarm start to wail. He guessed Ms. Kahn had already waited this long; what was a few more minutes.

As he hurried out the newsroom, he barely missed a delivery man entering with a large bouquet of red roses.

***

Part 45

Lois stepped into the elevator with a smile on her lips. She had stopped by the gym on the way to the office to burn off those extra calories from that incredible dessert that Clark had ordered for her the night before. It had absolutely nothing, not in any way or shape, to do with avoiding Clark.

True, she knew things were going to be awkward. How could it not be? Their relationship had officially changed with their first date. What would he do when she came into the bullpen? Would he try to kiss her? On the lips or on the cheek? Or not at all? Would he want to hold her hand under the table at the morning meeting? Would he act like nothing happened? Had anything happened? It wasn’t like it was their first kiss. It wasn’t even like it had been their hottest kiss. It had been slow and deliberate and held promise for things to come.

Her lips squeezed together. In her opinion, it could have been longer, but she was glad it hadn’t been.

Lois hadn’t planned on kissing Clark. She scoffed at that thought, like she ever planned on it. It just happened. Mostly she had allowed the kiss to get over her uneasiness about his crying.

Actually, it was his outpouring of emotion when she held him the previous night which was more than she was used to. There was a reason that she avoided mood pieces for the hard-hitting stories. Cold, hard facts didn’t have emotion; they didn’t make her feel for others. She hadn’t expected how much Clark would break down. Maybe she should have, being that they were basically discussing his parents’ death and all.

It had slipped her mind that he had said he had witnessed their deaths. No matter how many times he tried to brush it off with phrases like “It was long ago,” she could tell the trauma was still fresh in his mind.

Lois had tightened her arms around Clark, trying to comfort him as he cried in her arms. His sobs had been silent as if he had spent many years practicing to keep his tears to himself, so he wouldn’t bother anyone, or so that they wouldn’t hear, or wouldn’t know.

She wasn’t good at handling uncomfortable, emotional stuff, especially tears. She doubted a pat on the back and “buck up” was an appropriate response though. She knew how she had felt when her dad had used those words on her. She wished she could say that it was easier to deal with because it was Clark, but her feelings for him made his anguish more emotionally draining for her. She wanted to help him, but felt helpless as to how, and she didn’t like the feeling that there was nothing she could do.

Lois hated not knowing what to do. Later that night, she had spent a long time lying in bed, thinking about what Clark must have gone through as a preteen in foster care and about how it had shaped him as a man. He was like a bruised peach, one should handle with care. Many people would pass him over due to the damage; normally she would’ve too, but since she got to know him, she realized those blemishes had only made him sweeter. He was more caring, more thoughtful, and considerate than… well, anyone else she knew. This so-called defect also made him a great writer, gripping his readers by their emotions and causing them to care.

She had acknowledged that there was one surefire way to get Clark to stop crying and that was to kiss him. She also knew that if she had kissed him when their raw emotions were running rampant, passions would explode, and neither of them would be able to stop. She had seen too many romantic movies and read too many novels where that very thing had happened. She didn’t want that either.

Actually, she did want that. She just didn’t want it yet, not like this, not when there was so much she didn’t know. She felt that it was necessary to still maintain control. So, she hadn’t kissed him, though every fiber in every cell in her body was telling to do so; she had just held him. The more she held him, the more natural it felt having him in her arms as if he belonged there.

After a while, his tears had stopped and they just sat in each other’s embrace. She was too nervous to let go and face him. The desire to kiss him had been too fresh. Eventually he had sighed and pulled back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, despite her feeling that she hadn’t done anything. He cupped her jaw in his palm. She knew he was going to kiss her, and she knew she couldn’t stop him, mostly because she didn’t want to stop him. His lips were soft, gentle, and loving. They were gasoline on the fire within her, then they were gone.

Clark stood up and walked to her door. “Good night, Lois,” he said.

Lois followed, mostly because he had left her wanting more. He opened the door and she knew that she had to stop him. She took hold of his tie. “Did I mention how much I like your tie?” she murmured, letting it run through her fingers.

He smiled, lowering his mouth back to hers. “Happy birthday,” he said after another brief yet tender kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She had wanted to lean against her door frame and say, “It’s already tomorrow somewhere in the world,” but she hadn’t. Even though that was how wanton he had made her feel. She still didn’t know Clark’s true identity, even if she had understood him better.

The doors of the elevator opened, and she stepped into the newsroom. She just knew things would be awkward between her and Clark this morning. He had left her burning for him all night long. She couldn’t get her mind off him. Damn him! How was she going to maintain a professional work relationship with him if she felt like this?

She walked down the ramp and automatically glanced at Clark’s desk. He wasn’t there. Good. She’d have a moment to collect herself. There was a huge bouquet of red roses sitting in a vase on her desk, and Lois’s lips pressed together. She dropped her briefcase onto her chair, and a small paper bag onto her desk before she reached in and removed the card. “Happy Birthday, from Lex.”

She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. Really, Lex? Red roses? She knew she should appreciate the sentiment and effort, but she didn’t. She picked up the arrangement and dropped it in her trash. Being sold as a prostitute had turned her off roses, red or otherwise, for the foreseeable future.

As soon as she dropped the flowers in to the trash, she saw Clark enter from the stairwell straightening his tie. It was another new one, beige with what appeared to be drizzles of color splashed across it. She wasn’t quite sure if it was an improvement over his dull ties.

Clark smiled at her as if she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and made a beeline directly to her. This was exactly what Lois was afraid of. He was going to show his affection for her right there in the newsroom, and her natural wall popped up as he approached her.

Dropping her briefcase under her desk, she held up her hand and whispered, “Don’t make this awkward, Clark.”

“Good morning to you, too, Lois,” Clark said, becoming rigid at her words. “I came to tell you that Monique Kahn was found dead outside of Gotham City back at the end of August, but I’ll wait until you’ve had your first cup of coffee.”

Who? Lois reached out to touch his arm as he turned to walk away. “Clark,” she murmured.

He froze, which made her feel twice as guilty. “You wanted to know how I was broken, Lois. Now you know. I have no problem forgetting about last night, if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice rough, before continuing on to his desk.

She cringed at his words. They had made so much progress, she hadn’t wanted them to move backwards. Good going there, Lane.

Grabbing the paper bag off her desk, Lois headed over to Clark’s. He was staring at his computer screen, but she knew better than to think he had started working already. “I made it awkward, didn’t I?” she stated more than asked. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but I do anyway. Oh, look, Lois’s mouth is running away from her again. Just give me time to adjust to whatever this is.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Anyway, I got you something.”

“What is it, Lois? The phone number to a good therapist?” he asked, still not turning to face her.

Lois couldn’t answer that, and she probably deserved it. She had forced him to tell her something very private, very personal, and told him everything would be okay. Then, the first chance she got she stabbed him in his open wound.

Clark turned when she didn’t say anything, and saw her standing there, holding the bag. “Lois?”

“I thought that you’d like to have something to eat when Perry breaks out my surprise birthday cake he gets me every year. It’s bran muffin with raisins. I saw it and thought of you,” she murmured, dropping the bag on his desk and turning to retreat.

“I…” he started to say and she knew it was just another one of his apologies. She was to blame and she wouldn’t let him take that from her.

“You’re forgiven, if I am,” she said, cutting him off.

“Thank you,” Clark said, opening the bag and glancing inside. “I’ll always forgive you, Lois.”

“You’re too generous,” she whispered, wondering what it would take to test that theory.

“Are you ever going to let me apologize again?” he asked.

“Someday, perhaps,” she said with a smile. “But you’d have to screw up pretty badly, and not like all this run-of-the-mill stuff.”

Clark merely stared at her, so she headed back to her desk again, when she heard him mumble, “Please forgive me, Lois.” And she knew he wasn’t talking about snipping at her this morning. She just knew she had hit a nerve. Whatever it was that he was keeping from her was huge, and probably bigger than his true identity. Worse than that, it was something for which she might never forgive him. At least, she knew she was on the right track.

*

Clark couldn’t help but watch her. Lois was beautiful, but she was a beast without her morning caffeine. He made a mental note to remember to bring them both a cup from the espresso stand down the street every morning. He glanced down at the bran muffin. That had been thoughtful. Unnecessary, but thoughtful. He wondered when the best time was to tell her that he wasn’t a big fan of bran either. He guessed ‘later’. Much, much later, like around the time of their third wedding anniversary. Well, at least it didn’t send him running to the bathroom to throw up.

He watched as Lois glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. She turned away as Cat sat down at her desk.

“You’re in early,” Lois said to her.

Cat shrugged, glancing towards Clark with a Well? inquiry.

He glanced down at the file on his desk. Oh, Jimmy had brought him a copy of his article on the jumpers. Clark smiled. Perry had partnered him and Lois because of this story. True, it had been her punishment, but still…

“How did the date go?” he heard Cat ask. Looking up, he realized she wasn’t asking him, but Lois. Minx.

“How did….?” Lois sputtered.

“Give me a little credit, Lois,” Cat retorted.

“Fine! It went well, and, no, I’m not going to share details,” Lois told her, looking over her shoulder at Clark.

He pretended to be engrossed with his own clipping.

Cat sat down on her own desk, leaning towards Lois. “So, what did Mr. Romance get you?”

Clark flushed, flipping the article over to look at the follow-up article. A quick glance towards Lois informed him that she was blushing as well, and refusing to meet Cat’s eyes.

“A lamp.”

The smile fell off of Cat’s face. “He got you a lamp?”

Lois nodded innocently with another quick glance in his direction, which he couldn’t help returning.

“All that prep work, and all he got you was a lamp? No jewelry, no lingerie, but a lamp?” Cat shook her head. “He’ll never learn.”

“Prep work? What prep work?” Lois asked, standing up.

Oh, crap!

“You bought him that tie?” she accused.

Cat held up her hands. “No, you don’t! I’m not taking credit for any of those. He picked out all those ties himself,” she said, sitting down in her chair. “I chose the suit though.”

Clark dropped his head down on his desk. What’s wrong with his new ties?

“He took you shopping for our date?” Lois snarled.

Is that a siren? That sure sounded like a siren? It could be just a toy siren. Maybe he should go double check, just to be sure.

Cat shrugged. “So, he wanted to look good. He did look good, didn’t he?”

Clark stood up and caught the full force of Lois’s red hot gaze. He swallowed and sat back down. There was no escape.

Lois shrugged.

“You’re welcome,” Cat replied.

Was that in answer to Lois’s non-verbal response? Wait. Had Lois said he looked good? Damn!

Cat shook her head and mumbled, “Lamp.”

Lois hadn’t opened the lamp while he was there, so she must have opened it after he left. She was looking at him with a contained laughter now. Good, she had remembered what she had said to him about the magma… er… lava lamps. About how he wanted to make love by their light. The moment she had said it all those weeks ago, he had known what he would get her for her birthday. He couldn’t wait to try it out.

Perry walked into the newsroom from his office at that moment. “Can I have everyone’s attention for a minute?” he said, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to let you all know that the Kerth nominations were announced this morning…”

The Chief suddenly had Lois’s full attention. Clark wasn’t holding his breath. He wasn’t expecting a nomination.

“And I’m happy to announce that one of our own was nominated, again,” he said.

Lois jumped up and fist pumped the air. “Which story?”

“The Messenger explosion.”

Clark stood up. Their story was nominated? He had been nominated for a Kerth? Wait. One of their own? He had worked that story too.

“Congratulations, Lois,” Perry said, shaking her hand. “Good job.” As Clark moved up towards the group of well-wishers, their boss patted him on the back. “Good job, Kent.”

“So, I’m nominated as well?” Clark asked, glee filling him. He had never been nominated for a Kerth in his home dimension.

“What?!” Lois roared. “Perry, no! That was my story, my byline. He worked for me on that assignment as a contributing reporter, nothing more. He shouldn’t be nominated as well.”

Clark’s jaw muscle tightened as he crossed his arms. “Thanks, Partner.”

“You know what I mean, Chuck,” Lois said, flinging a dismissive hand back towards him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She turned to her boss. “Perry?”

Their boss glanced between them. “I’m sorry, Kent, but Lois is correct. As lead reporter, she was the only one nominated. Sorry, son,” he said. “But it’s still a coup for the Daily Planet, either way.”

“Congratulations, Lois,” Clark said diplomatically.

“Oh, you are being pissy about it, aren’t you, Clark?” she told him.

“I worked my butt off for that story,” he reminded her.

“No, I did. You worked your butt off for me,” Lois retorted, much to the delight of their co-workers.

“Lois,” he tried warning her, but she was already off on her tirade.

“So, you think you deserve to be recognized for your efforts on my story?” she snapped.

Fine, if she wanted a public argument, he would give it to her. “That would be nice, yes,” he replied.

“You think I should invite, as my date to the awards then, someone who helped out on the story, someone who gave their blood, sweat, and tears for this story, gave up their sleep, their health, and possibly even risked his life? You think that would help ease the sting of not having been nominated himself for the story?” Lois asked. “That it would be a good way to show you how much I value my coworkers’ contributions?”

Clark smiled. “Such an invitation would go a long way at easing such a wound, yes.”

“Jimmy!” she called to the young man who just exited the elevators, carrying a file. “The Messenger story was nominated for a Kerth. How would you like to be my date for the ceremony?”

“Uh…” Jimmy looked over at Clark. “What about CK?”

“He was just telling me that the most appropriate date for the Kerths would be one whose valuable efforts on said story made it possible. Isn’t that right, Clark?” she said, flashing her eyes at him.

Clark lowered his head. “Yes.”

“Are you going to deny that Jimmy’s idea for getting S.T.A.R. Labs to do the holographic simulation of the Messenger explosion, and his almost getting killed when we went searching for the true wreckage, wasn’t a valuable contribution to my story?” Lois said, knowing darn well he would never discount his friend’s contribution.

“Of course not, Lois,” Clark admitted.

“Well, gee, thanks guys. I would love to go, Lois. Who are you going to invite, CK?” Jimmy asked as the newsroom fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Clark cleared his throat, but before he could tell Jimmy that he hadn’t been included in the nomination, Perry spoke up.

“Actually, Daily Planet reporters were nominated for two Kerths this year,” their boss informed them.

“What?!” Lois growled as if this somehow lessened her honor.

Perry shot her an expression that didn’t need words to be read.

She blushed. “That’s terrific, Chief. Who else?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Brian Gladstone’s photographs of the Colombian drug mules have also been nominated,” Perry said, and Lois gulped.

Clark was unfamiliar with the photographer.

“Let’s all take a moment of silence to remember him and the story that took his life,” Perry finished.

Oh.

As soon as the moment of silence was completed, Perry tapped Clark’s shoulder. “Kent, my office.”

***

Clark was being infuriatingly difficult. He knew from day one, since before his first day, that the Messenger story had been hers, that he was only assigned to the story to assist her. He no longer had any reason to be snippety with her. She had made her point by inviting Jimmy to the Kerths as her date. They could now move on.

Her brow furrowed as she watched Clark leave Perry’s office. Hadn’t Clark said something about a dead body?

She picked up her grey coffee mug and went to fill it with sludge from the machine. It would give Clark an extra minute to cool off. As she poured her coffee, she saw her partner pause at her desk, then move on to his. Was that a smirk on his face? Clark didn’t smirk. What was up with that?

Lois tapped her stir stick against her mug and headed over to Clark’s desk, only to be stopped by him picking up the phone and dialing. Okay, she would wait until he got off the phone. She sat down at her desk and took a sip of her coffee, watching Clark as he went through a file. She stood up as soon as he hung up, but he picked up the phone again directly and dialed another number. What was going on? Why wasn’t he conferring with her? That wasn’t like him. She pressed her lips together. Was he still mad about not being nominated for a Kerth for her story?

When he finally finished with this second phone call, Lois stood up again and walked over to his desk. “I’ve got my coffee. Now, what’s this about this woman’s dead body?” she asked.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself about, Lois.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“It pertains to the double jumper story from right after Superman showed up, which if I recall correctly, was my story,” he said, shutting his file.

She set her free hand on her hip. “How does a dead body pertain to that story from over three months ago?”

“One of the jumpers was brutally murdered,” he replied.

Lois sat down on the edge of his desk. “One of the jumpers, who Superman rescued, was found dead? How? Where? When?”

“My story, Lois, remember. I know that you like to think that you put your input into it, but, technically, it has been, and always will be, my story,” Clark said, standing up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some people to interview regarding my story.”

She put her hand against his chest. “Point made, Chuck. Now spill.”

“I’d hate for you to waste your valuable Kerth-worthy time on my story, Lois, and never get the credit you deserve. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a Kerth nomination for it next year. I’d take Jimmy, of course, for being instrumental in bringing her death to my attention,” he said.

“Jimmy? You’d take Jimmy as your date to the Kerths, instead of me?” Lois asked, unable to stop the smile from appearing on her lips.

“Why not? You are,” Clark retorted.

Lois laughed. “You’ll never take Jimmy as a date to the Kerth awards, Clark.”

“Give me one good reason why I wouldn’t ask my friend to be my guest to an awards banquet?” Clark said, crossing his arms.

“I’d look better in a dress,” Lois answered without hesitation, taking another sip of coffee.

Jimmy, who happened to be walking by at that moment, stopped. “Really, CK? That’s terrific. You guys are the greatest,” he said before Lois’s words seemed to sink in. “She’s got a point there, Clark. She’d look better in a dress than me. I, most definitely, look better out of one.”

A cackle of laughter and applause from Cat made the three of them turned towards the gossip queen. “Oh, Jimmy, great barb.”

The young man’s eyes widened. “Not that I don’t mean that you wouldn’t look good without a dress on, Lois,” Jimmy sputtered, looking to Clark for support, but not getting anything more than a chuckle from the shmuck. “I didn’t mean that you…”

“Give me that!” Lois demanded, grabbing the file from Jimmy. “What’s this?”

“Here’s all the information I could gather about Monique Kahn,” Jimmy said, summarizing, more than happy for the change of subject. “She’s from a very anti-government family in Texas. Two of her brothers were arrested five years ago in a joint raid by the ATF and FBI of a domestic terrorist group, bent on bombing federal buildings across the country. Ms. Kahn herself though, didn’t have a criminal record. She was a weapons expert, and working in R&D at LexLabs. Apparently, when she went missing in June, LexCorp just let her go, thinking she skipped out on them. She has no local family. A missing person’s report wasn’t filed until July when her sister got worried that she didn’t show up to a long-standing vacation that they took every year during the July Fourth holidays.”

“Monique Kahn?” Lois said, opening the file. “The woman who was scared of heights, who jumped off that thirty story building?” She quickly flipped through the file, but didn’t learn more than what Jimmy had just said. “She disappeared shortly after being rescued by Superman?”

“I don’t think those two events are related,” Clark interjected wryly.

Lois rolled her eyes. “Of course Superman didn’t have anything to do with her death. I meant that someone pushed her off the building, and then she disappears a week later? Even you can see that’s suspicious. You don’t think Trask and Bureau 39…” Her voice faltered off as she shook her head. No, she and Clark had already decided that Bureau 39 didn’t have anything to do with the bombing of the Carlen building. She walked over to Clark’s desk and picked up the file he was looking at earlier. “Here it is. Kahn had been mumbling something about a test. We never did discover what she meant by that, right? What if the jumpers and the bombing at the Carlen were tests of Superman’s abilities? See how fast he is or what he can withstand? What if someone other than Bureau 39 was testing him? One of the many criminal organizations in Metropolis maybe? You know, to see what kind of threat he would be to them?”

She glanced up from the file in her hand to Clark’s expression. It was positively thunderous. Geez, did he think she was still trying to steal his story? “Snap out of it, Chuck. We’re partners, for goodness sake.”

“You mean the same criminal organization that bugged your apartment, the Daily Planet, and hired private detectives to follow us?” Clark’s voice sounded almost harsh with venom.

Lois gulped. She had almost forgotten that Henderson had tied the cameras from the Carlen bombing to the same type found at her apartment. This story was even bigger than she had thought.

Clark pointed at her. “Stay here!” Then he stormed out of the newsroom.

The nerve of that man, ordering her about. Was Clark afraid she was going to home in on his investigation? Hello? Partners! They worked together on stories, especially stories of this magnitude. Lois turned to look at Jimmy. “How did Monique Kahn die?”

He shrugged.

Brutally murdered, Clark had said. Lois went back to Clark’s desk and found the notepad where he had taken his notes from his phone calls.

“Coyote and animal bites. Exposed. Naked. Foot wounds. Running? Malnourished. Captive? Whipped. Rough sex. Rape? Shot in the back with arrow(s). Arrow(s) torn out or slashed out with a double-edged hunting knife. Early August died. 30 August found. Woods fifteen miles outside of Gotham City.”

Yep, that sounded ‘brutally murdered’ to her too. So, Monique was taken in early June but not killed until August. She must have been held captive by someone who didn’t feed her well for two months, which would explain the malnourishment. Who would do such a thing? Some sick bastard, that’s who.

Well, Lois wasn’t going to sit on her hands or twiddle her thumbs while Clark was off doing his interviews. Monique worked at LexCorp. She decided to call Lex, pretending that she was thanking him for the hideous arrangement of flowers he had sent her for her birthday and see if he had ever met Ms. Kahn.

***

Inspector Bill Henderson threaded his fingers together, leaned back in his chair, and looked at the reporter sitting in his office. “That’s a pretty big leap there, Kent.”

“I normally don’t reveal sources, but he says that he trusts you. Don’t let me down,” Kent continued. “What I’m telling you is in the strictest of confidence.”

“Yes, I understand that this is completely off the record. Superman confronted Lex Luthor about his involvement with Dr. Baines’s death and the Messenger debacle, and shortly thereafter, two people from LexCorp attempted to jump from buildings, across town but within line of sight of each other, at practically the same time, only the first one didn’t jump once Superman arrived, and the second one was terrified of heights,” Henderson repeated back. “Confronting Luthor probably wasn’t the smartest thing for Superman to do.”

Kent nodded as if in agreement. “According to her doctor at Metropolis Hospital, Monique Kahn kept mumbling about some ‘test’. Then after that incident, the Carlen building exploded via remote detonation when Superman entered.”

“And you and Superman think that these two events might be connected? Some sort of test of Superman’s powers?” Henderson guessed.

“Yes. If Luthor was behind the Carlen building explosion, then he was also the man behind the surveillance equipment in Lois’s apartment,” Clark said.

Henderson raised an eyebrow. “And why would Lex Luthor, billionaire philanthropist, be spying on Lois Lane? Would this also have something to do with Superman?”

Kent was quiet for a minute. “Well, she’s friends with Superman. We both are,” he replied, a little more forcefully than he needed to.

“Do Lois and Superman have a more than friendly relationship that Luthor could have caught wind of?” Henderson asked, expecting he would need to gauge the truthfulness of Kent’s response, not on his words but his demeanor.

“Of course not!” Kent insisted.

Henderson wondered if Kent was in denial with his tone or just in cover-up mode. It would explain why ‘Superman’ had been standing on Lois Lane’s roof sketching strange men in cars the night after she had been shot and the bugs found. “Do you?”

Kent flushed, and cleared his throat. “Off the record, we did go on our first official date last night,” he admitted somewhat proudly. Ah, it must be a cover-up with poor Kent as the beard.

“You and Superman?” Henderson teased, only because he couldn’t resist such an obvious opening.

The reporter blanched. “No! Lois and I.”

Henderson chuckled, so the man knew he had been joking, and Kent relaxed.

“I spoke with Monique Kahn’s sister, Brigitte,” Kent continued, declining to acknowledge Henderson’s joke. “She said that Monique had told her that she was dating someone high up at LexCorp, but that it was all hush-hush, but that she hoped to have some good news soon.”

“Famous last words,” Henderson said with a shake of his head. “When will women learn that if a man, especially a man of power, refuses to acknowledge their relationship publicly, it usually means something bad for the woman? Either he’s married, will never commit, or he’s ashamed of her and just using her for sex.”

Kent appeared to be grinding his teeth after this statement, and Henderson decided to ease up a bit and throw him a bone.

“Sometimes, but rarely, it’s for her own protection," Henderson continued. "If Mr. Luthor and Ms. Kahn were in a relationship, even a secret one, it wasn’t illegal; same as your assumption of his so-called relationship with Toni Taylor, you told me about the last time we met. They were all single, and Luthor is a very private man. Ms. Taylor has denied any personal relationship with Luthor, claiming they had only just met that night he came to the club.”

Kent looked at him as if the inspector had offered to sell a bridge in New York to him. “Superman also mentioned that Luthor practically admitted to one of the Beckworth smart kids in his presence to being the money behind Dr. Carlton’s research,” he said.

“Hearsay. Kent, you know that if it can’t pass the Daily Planet’s legal department, it won’t pass my legal department. What you’ve brought me so far doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, let alone a search warrant. We aren’t going to be able to issue a parking violation on this man without a mountain of proof. You and I both know that Luthor isn’t a shiny penny, but until we have proof he’s all snake oil and lacks authenticity, he’s going to continue be sitting pretty,” Henderson told him, before adding, “I’m sorry.”

Kent nodded. “Me too. I hate thinking that what happened to Ms. Kahn could just as easily happen to Lois,” he murmured with a frustrated sigh. “I’d like to bring her into our investigation.”

“That’s up to you and White, Kent. Me, I’m just a sounding board at this juncture,” Henderson explained. “If you think her relationship with Luthor has been damaged enough by that bullet for her to believe you, it might do your investigation to have a man – so to speak – on the inside.”

“I don’t want her on the inside. I don’t want her within a hundred miles of Luthor,” Kent said.

Henderson cracked a smile. “You have met your partner, haven’t you, Kent?”

***

Lois looked around the Top of the Towers restaurant. She had never before been invited to eat here, or ever wanted to use a sizeable chunk of her Tahiti fund to take herself. It was just as elegant and awe-inspiring as the rumors, and this was at mid-day. She could only imagine these views of Metropolis with a backdrop of stars. No wonder it was voted ‘Best Place to Propose’ in Metropolis magazine for the last ten years.

The maître d cleared his throat and raised a scornful brow at Lois’s appearance. “May I be of assistance?” His words might have been polite, but his tone indicated his belief she was but a tourist from the country come to gawk.

She glanced down at her perfectly styled pale grey business pantsuit with her deep dusty pink blouse, and straightened her spine, more than willing to wipe the man’s expression off his face with her words. “I have a twelve o’clock luncheon with Lex Luthor.”

***End of Part 45***

Part 46

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