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

Where we left off in Part 59 …

Secondly, and most importantly, Lois had learned that Clark was Clark Jerome Kent, just as he had said he was. Or was it Jerome Kent? He was a native of Italy, as Jonathan had hinted at earlier, and Clark’s folks had died when he was a kid. He hadn’t lied to her about that. Did that mean he went into foster care in Italy, not Wichita? Maybe it wasn’t foster care at all, but an orphanage. She wasn’t quite sure how the system worked over there. That part of the story wasn’t clear.

At some point, he had run away to America, illegally, and come to Smallville to find his extended family. Was Jonathan’s uncle his grandfather? Was that what they had said? It sounded like he had done this at a young age. So young he hadn’t even graduated from high school yet. Maybe Clark hadn’t been lying, after all. Perhaps once he had gotten to Smallville, someone had discovered him, which was how he had ended up in foster care in Wichita. Was that when he had changed his name? Had he changed his name? He was an orphan and his name was Clark Kent or had he just added the Clark after finding the grave as she had? Had he run away again? It explained how he knew about Smallville, its residents, and even possibly had dated Rachel, the sheriff’s now-deceased sister. Clark said that he hadn’t graduated from Smallville High or attended MidWest U. as he had told Perry.

What exactly had Clark been doing for the last ten to fifteen years? Where had he lived? He must have traveled the world, like he had said. Those stories of his travels must have been true. Growing up in Italy would explain his penchant for languages. She knew that kids in Europe were taught two, if not three languages, while still in primary school. On the other hand, could he be some kind of great con artist? No, that didn’t seem right, especially since the man remained, despite all his deceptions, one of the worst liars she had ever seen. Maybe it was just that he needed time to develop his lies and couldn’t lie on his feet, as Lois could. Although, that whole act of introducing himself to Hank as Charles Jerome Lane had slipped easily enough off his tongue.

So, both the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) and the mob were after him. Was he afraid to tell Lois the truth because he didn’t want her report him and get him fired, arrested, or worse, deported? Did he think she would do that to him? She guessed so many years on the run would make a man a bit paranoid and jumpy about whom he could and could not trust. Was that why Clark had so readily accepted her silly joke that they get married, because he needed a green card? He had claimed it was because he was in love with her, but what if it was more than just his infatuation?

Had Clark run away initially because the Italian organized crime syndicate had murdered his folks, and he had witnessed it? That made sense. Clark hadn’t wanted Lois to know all the details because she would investigate what happened to his parents and, thereby, lead the mob straight to him. He was afraid that if they found him they would try to use Lois as leverage against him. Had he learned something that would bring those criminals to justice and his parents had been killed in retaliation or by mistake, while trying to get him? Jonathan had hinted at something like that. Of course, Clark had only been ten at the time, but anything was possible.

It would also explain why he hadn’t trusted Lex Luthor on sight. Clark probably thought that LexCorp and Lex’s philanthropy was a cover for organized crime, as he had seen back in Italy in regards to the mob. What was she thinking? Of course, that was what Clark thought. He had said as much.

Lois sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. The question was, now that she knew the truth what did it mean for her and Clark?

*

Part 60

***********
Going Home
***********

After Lois had showered and changed, she went out to the barn to find Clark. She needed to talk to him and see what he would say to her about the lies he’d told her. She had decided to not pressure Clark and play things by ear.

Martha had told Clark to move slowly and give Lois time before trying to tell her the truth again. If Clark took that advice, he might not be willing to share the truth yet, especially if he thought that she still wouldn’t believe him. Why would she? As Martha had said, when someone tells enough lies, everything starts to smell like manure. It was just like that little boy who called wolf one time too many.

Alternatively, Lois sighed, perhaps Clark thought there wasn’t any reason to tell her the truth because she was still in love with Superman. She shook her head. Of course, she still loved Superman. She would always love Superman. He was her soul mate. There wasn’t anything she could do about it though. Superman didn’t want to risk her life by becoming more than friends with her. That hadn’t changed. Anyway, Clark had known that about Lois going into this relationship. She was trying to move on. Couldn’t he give her some credit for that? If he hadn’t wanted damaged goods… No, Clark had always told her that her feelings for Superman didn’t matter to him. Had that changed?

Lois did like the idea of Clark giving her more time to figure out what was going on. It would also be nice to do a few discreet inquiries, ask Clark more subtle questions about how he knew so much without a college degree, and see what she could find out about the Kents of Italy. It couldn’t be that common of a name over there, right? She was still curious how he had been able to finagle a reference from Professor Carlton if he hadn’t graduated from MidWest U. On the other hand, had he gone, only not graduated? But if he hadn’t graduated from Smallville High, or any other high school, like he had said, how had he gotten into college?

Lois felt like smacking herself in the head. Of course, he had gotten his G.E.D. and used that to attend college. Clark was too intelligent to have never graduated from high school at all.

The cow wasn’t in the barn, so Clark must have already milked her and let her out to pasture. Someone had already fed the hens, but there was no way in hell she was going to check if the eggs had been gathered, thank you very much. Where was Clark?

Lois headed back to the house. Had he already come in for breakfast? Had he already eaten breakfast? Was the coffee and pie smell that had woken her up an hour before Clark's breakfast? No, it couldn’t be, because Clark didn’t eat sweets like pie.

She hadn’t meant to take so long getting ready. She had spent a while thinking about what to do about Clark, then showered, changed, packed her suitcase, and made a call to Perry, all before coming downstairs. She hadn’t seen anyone and figured the Kents had taken Clark’s advice and gone back to bed, and that Clark was still out at the barn. Now, she was wondering where everyone was. She and Clark still had to convince the judge in Lawrence to drop the ridiculous charges against Jimmy before they all could catch the first plane back to Metropolis. After these past few days, she wondered if Jimmy would be kissing the Metropolis tarmac with her, so happy to be home.

Martha came out onto the back porch as Lois approached. “There you are. I thought I heard you moving around. Ready for some breakfast?”

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Lois admitted. It was always a good idea to have one before seeing Clark anyway. She hopped up the steps and wrapped her arms around Clark’s new mom. “Thank you.”

“What?” Martha sputtered in surprise, and then corrected herself. “You’re welcome. What for?”

Lois grinned. “I hear you and I are fans of the same man.”

“Oh?” Martha said, entering the kitchen.

“A hero,” Lois said with a wink. “A super fantastic guy.”

“Really?” Martha said vaguely. “And who would that be?”

“Mel Gibson, of course!” Lois teased, slipping out of her jacket and setting it on the back of a chair.

Martha laughed. “I’m not usually one for action films, but, honey! Whoa, did I love Lethal Weapon.” She whistled.

Lois burst into laughter. “Aren’t you worried Jonathan will hear you?”

“Nah. He already knows that he has my body, but Mel…” Martha sighed dramatically. “Mel has my devotion.”

“Martha, why couldn’t I have ended up with a mom as great as you?” Lois asked, biting her tongue as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She didn’t want Martha to know she had overheard them talking this morning or remind her of the son she lost.

Fortunately, Martha took her words in the way she had intended and smiled. “It seems I’m adopting kids left and right these days. I must have done something right,” she said. “Between you, Thomas, and Jerome…”

“Martha,” Lois started to ask, but then stopped herself. She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “Why do you still call him Jerome if his name is Clark?”

“He introduced himself as Jerome, so I guess it’s hard to think of him in any other way,” Martha said.

Lois nodded with understanding. Between her words, Lois heard Martha saying that her son would always be the only ‘Clark’ in her life.

“So, have you decided to forgive him?” Martha asked, handing Lois a mug of coffee and leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Martha!” Lois gasped, and lowered her voice. “He could hear us.”

Martha waved off Lois’s concern. “Nah. The boys went out to check if there was anything recoverable from the truck you stole from the soldiers yesterday.”

“He went without me?” Lois growled, setting down her mug and grabbing her jacket.

“You were asleep,” Martha defended Clark. Of course.

Lois marched through the house to the front door with Martha on her heels.

“I’m sure they’ll be back at any minute and will tell us about anything they found,” Martha continued.

When Lois opened the door, she heard a thumping banging sound she didn’t remember hearing from the back of the house. She turned to look at Martha. “What’s that?”

Martha shook her head. She pulled a jacket out of the living room closet and followed Lois out the front door.

There hadn’t been any point in checking the burned wreckage of the truck the previous day. After the firefighters finished putting out the fire, the twisted metal and ashes were still too hot to handle. By the time it was cool enough, they were waist deep in investigation mode, and then trying to get Jimmy freed from that idiot sheriff. Lois was just happy that the FBI imposters hadn’t taken the wreckage with them when they stole all the other evidence of Bureau 39’s involvement at the Kent and Irig farms. Of course, that probably meant that all that remained of the truck was a pile of ashes and charred metal bones. By evening, with darkness fallen over the scene of the accident, they had been in story mode, writing down everything that had happened over the last two days, and trying to make heads-or-tails of it for a page one article for Perry.

The banging noise increased in volume as they went down the driveway. Around the bend, they saw Jonathan watching as Clark used an ax to chop down the old oak tree she had hit with the truck.

“What is he doing?” Lois asked.

“He’s trying to find his sense of control over his own destiny,” answered Jonathan. “It eluded him yesterday and he wants it back.”

“And he thinks chopping down an innocent tree will help?” Lois asked skeptically. She shook her head and went to approach Clark. She watched as he swung the ax with precision and a slight bit of anger. When he stopped to mop his brow, she spoke, “When did you become judge, jury, and executioner?”

He turned sharply as if not expecting to see her there. “Pardon?”

“I hit the tree, Clark. It didn’t jump out in front of me. It was my fault. Don’t blame the tree for my carelessness,” she explained, moving closer.

“It was damaged in the fire. I don’t want a winter storm to knock it down and block the drive,” he lied. On the whole, it was a good lie for Clark, but it was still a lie.

Lois set her hand on his arm. “That tree is still alive, Clark. You know it, and I know it. It’s not going to fall down in any storm.”

“It’s a dangerous spot for a tree. Anyone could hit it and die,” he replied, changing his lie after she called him out for his last one. He started to lift the ax again and instead of stepping back, she squeezed his arm.

“I’m still alive,” she reminded him.

“You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“No thanks to me,” Clark grumbled.

“Oh, so this isn’t about me then? This is about you,” Lois said, stepping back and letting go of his arm. “Go ahead then. Kill it. Kill that living thing that hasn’t harmed you or me, after it’s given us fresh air to breathe, shade in the summer, and stood tall for decades. Go ahead, Clark, do it. Kill that thing that hasn’t done anything wrong except be in my way when I lost control of the truck I was driving.”

He closed his eyes, and she felt she must have been getting through to him.

“It’s not really the tree you’re angry at, is it?” she pressed on. “Is it Trask? Now Bureau 39 has once more faded into the shadows after claiming to have found a way to kill your friend and hero?”

Clark didn’t react. Okay, not Trask.

“Is it Sheriff Harris and his stubbornness regarding his arrest of Jimmy?” she asked.

He still didn’t move.

Those two had frustrated her enough to take an ax to a tree. Clark had too, but in a completely different venting sort of way.

“Is it me?” she whispered. She knew it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her heart from constricting at the thought.

He let the ax fall to the ground and turned to face her. “Never, Lois. I would never…”

“Are you saying that I don’t make you mad? That I don’t make you frustrated and angry enough to take an ax to a tree?” she said skeptically.

“No, Lois. I have never wanted to hurt you. Never,” he replied, cupping her jaw with his hand.

“Is it Superman?” she went on, trying to push past the rush of emotions this touch brought out in her.

His hand fell.

You and your big mouth, Lane. “So, it is Superman. You’re angry with Superman for not coming to your rescue after all the times you’ve been there for him? You’re mad at him for not being here in your hour of need to protect you, me, and your family, and him by claiming you were Superman to the man trying to find a way to kill him?”

“Who said he wasn’t here?” Clark said, looking her in the eye.

Lois’s eyes widened. “Superman was here yesterday?”

He nodded. “Who do you think freed me from the van and the chains? Who do you think tied that bar around Trask?”

“But… but… Trask thought you were Superman,” Lois sputtered, her mind swirling in confusion. Why hadn’t Clark said anything about Superman being here yesterday?

“Superman was very quick. Trask didn’t see even a hint of cape,” Clark explained. “It’s one of the reasons he believed me when I said ‘I’m Superman’.”

She slapped his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged.

“So, you’re mad at Superman?” she confirmed.

Clark looked away. He usually wasn’t a quiet kind of guy once she got him talkin’, but if he wanted to be, Clark could take being a strong, silent type to a new level.

“Hmmmm,” Lois said as if she were contemplating his non-answer. “So, you’re saying that you’re nothing without your friend? That you can’t defend yourself, or protect anyone, without him? That you’re worthless?”

He snuck a glance at her.

Then it hit her. “You’re the tree!”

His focused attention made her realize she was right.

She grabbed the ax out of his hand, and lifting it up, swung at the tree. He was right. This did feel good. “Let’s chop down the man that you are, Clark,” she said, swinging again. “The man who listens to every person he meets, so that they feel heard, from the waitress to the telemarketer, to the man he strikes up a conversation with in line at the airport, to the people he interviews.” She hit the tree again, not doing anywhere near the damage Clark had, but that was okay. She wasn’t trying to kill the tree. “The man who threw enough good punches at Trask in self-defense that Sheriff Harris wanted to arrest him for assault.” Lois couldn’t believe that a man who was so wonderful could think so little of himself. “The man who is always there for me, even when I don’t need him to be, or think I don’t.” Chop. “The man who can move a person to tears by stringing two words together.” Chop. Chop. “The man who is a good friend to Jimmy, who would risk his life to save a friend, who rarely says a bad word about anyone, and who’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Let’s chop him down and get rid of him, because clearly he’s rubbish compared to his friend Superman.”

Clark stopped her next swing by placing a hand on the ax handle. “Do you always have to be right?”

“No, but it’s a good thing I always am though,” she said, thankfully dropping the ax and heading towards the charred remains of the truck, which had been pulled off the drive. “Because I’m hell to live with when I’m wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark said softly, following her.

“I’ll accept your apology, just this once, because you royally screwed up,” she replied, and then pointed a finger at him. “Royally! However, it was remiss of me to assume you were lying to hurt me, just because that’s what everyone else has done. You’re right; I didn’t take into consideration the man I’ve gotten to know over the last few months.” She stopped by what used to be the back end of the truck.

“I’m right?” he echoed. There was a tinge of happy smugness to his voice.

“Don’t get used to it. I’m sure it won’t happen again soon,” she retorted.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clark said wryly.

Lois picked up a stick and started prodding the ashes. “So, are you ever going to tell me your real name?”

Clark pulled off his work glove and held out his hand. “My parents named me Clark Jerome Kent.”

She glanced down at his filthy hand with a raised brow, and then returned her focus to the truck. “Think we’ll find anything in there worth salvaging, Chuck?”

“Clark,” he corrected her, as he used to do when they first met, and put his glove back on. “Did you see them put anything in there?”

“A big heavy-looking box,” she said, lifting the stick and pointing towards the cab of the truck at what might have been the remnants of such a box. There was a lot of debris from other evidence or machinery lost to them forever in the fire. “But it could have been a different truck.”

“I guess I’ll volunteer to get my hands dirty.”

“Clark, your hands are already dirty,” Lois reminded him. She glanced down at her own hand and realized it was dirty now as well.

He shot her a beaming smile, and she realized it was because by calling him Clark she had accepted his answer. Had she accepted that Clark really was Clark? For now, and until any evidence to the contrary appeared, the name would have to suffice.

Clark climbed into the mess of ash and twisted metal, and borrowing her stick, poked the area of the truck bed she had indicated. His brow furrowed. “There’s something here.” He moved closer and started to shift through the debris and ash. Martha and Jonathan joined them at the truck. “It looks to have fallen down partially through the bottom of the truck,” Clark went on. He tossed some charred pieced of wood out of the truck and then froze.

He turned back to Lois and the Kents with an expression of awe, ecstasy, and amazement that lit up his entire face. He looked so entirely different from the man who was trying to chop down the tree earlier that it was more him than his discovery that drew Lois closer.

Clark jumped down from the truck. “Martha, can you bring your truck down here and you’d better bring some sort of chain as well? I’m not sure how heavy this thing is,” he said.

Martha nodded and ran up the drive.

Lois stepped past Clark and into the truck. She could only see a portion of whatever it was that Clark thought he saw. She couldn’t recognize it from what was uncovered and brushed away more of the ash to reveal a large red “S”. Stumbling backwards, she fell out of the truck. Luckily, Clark caught her. “It’s… it’s…”

Clark grinned and nodded.

“Superman’s spaceship,” Lois finished. She turned to look at Jonathan, because the excitement on Clark’s face was too overpowering for her to watch for long. Jonathan had a stunned expression on his face as well.

“Superman’s spaceship?” Jonathan sputtered.

“It’s the find of the century!” Lois crowed. “I can’t believe that Bureau 39 left it here.”

“Maybe they haven’t unloaded the rest of the trucks yet and don’t know that it’s missing,” suggested Clark.

“Why in the world did they truck it all the way out here?” Lois asked, shaking her head. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe because of their ‘rogue’ status they don’t have a permanent base of operations at the moment, so they’re working out of the back of their trucks,” said Clark.

“That makes sense,” agreed Lois. “I don’t care why, actually. I’m thrilled.” She wrapped her arms around Clark. “I bet Superman will be pleased to have it returned to him.”

Clark nodded again. “Let’s move it up to the barn, before Bureau 39 returns looking for it, or the sheriff does.”

“This more than makes up for the loss of evidence yesterday,” Lois gushed. “Perry’s going to dance a jig.”

Clark’s face fell and he glanced over at Jonathan. “Lois, we can’t tell anyone about this. Everyone will come out here and overrun the Kents’ farm.”

“But… Superman... the scoop!” Lois said, unable to make a more forceful argument.

“Yes, Lois,” Clark agreed. “But Superman wouldn’t want to endanger the Kents any more than they’ve already been this week. Perhaps we should hold off on the ‘scoop of the century’ until we can contact him. We’ll report that Superman picked up his…” He glanced at the ship. “— space transport vehicle from the Kents’ farm where it had been abandoned by Bureau 39. That way people won’t come looking for more stuff, thinking it had been hidden here all along, or that it’s still here, and being that Superman took it away.”

She stepped out of Clark’s arms and shooed him away. “Well, go contact him already. I’m ready to pick up Jimmy and head back to Metropolis.”

Clark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “It’s not that easy, Lois.”

“Sure, it is. You go call him, and I’m sure he’ll come right away to pick up his ship,” Lois said, wondering why Clark was still standing there.

“Uh… Lois? I’m pretty positive that Superman’s phone number is unlisted,” he said, glancing towards Jonathan. “Even if he has a phone.”

Oh, silly her. Clark didn’t want his new adoptive parents to know he had a way to contact the superhero. That made sense. He might want a closer relationship with these people, but he couldn’t even trust her with his true-life story. It was doubtful he would share all the details of his tight friendship with Superman right away. How was it that Clark and Superman had bonded so quickly and easily, when Clark had trouble doing so with others? Nodding to him in understanding, Lois added, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“We should hide it away, somewhere here on the farm, where nobody can find it. When we get back to Metropolis, we can tell Superman where it is,” recommended Clark. “And he can come pick it up.”

Martha arrived with the truck, and it took the three of them, with Jonathan supervising, to pull it from the wreckage and onto the truck. If Lois had had any doubts, they melted away when the ship, though clearly dusty from ash, had nary a scratch on it. Martha drove the ship to the barn, where she and Clark hid it in an old feed closet under a pile of horse blankets.

Afterwards, Lois and Clark both needed showers again. Actually, she wasn’t sure if Clark had showered before. She was just repacking her suitcase, when she heard Clark calling to Jonathan from the downstairs bath about borrowing a razor. She shook her head. Once more, her Boy Scout of a partner was showing he was woefully unprepared.

It was strange seeing Clark in a suit and tie again after days of jeans. It marked their journey to the farm belt had come to the end. Thank God! Lois reached up and pulled an errant piece of tissue paper from his face. He must have cut himself shaving. He didn’t seem to mind though; either her pulling off the tissue or the fact he had cut himself shaving. He was an odd duck, that Clark Kent.

***

Lois walked into Perry’s office and shut the door, leaning against it.

Perry gestured to the seat. “Lois, honey, what in the name of Elvis happened in Kansas?”

She sat down in the chair indicated and shook her head. “I’m not quite sure.” She looked over her shoulder, double-checking that Clark still wasn’t in. He had gone to contact Superman about his spaceship. “Clark got shot.”

Perry jumped to his feet. “What?”

She waved for him to sit down. “Grazed. Trask really beat him up, but I don’t think he wants anyone to know just how much. Heaven forbid!” Lois glanced towards the ceiling at another macho trait she didn’t understand. She would ask for help if she was injured, wouldn’t she? Okay, she wouldn’t, but she wasn’t Clark. He should have told her. “He told Trask that he was Superman. I don’t know how long he thought Trask would buy that story, when one bullet would show the man he was lying. Trask could have killed him. Anyway, if Trask thought Clark was Superman why did he shoot him? Everyone knows that bullets bounce off Superman. So, I don’t know. I’m thinking that Clark is holding something back about what happened, but I cannot for the life of me fathom what.”

Perry rubbed his brow. “Lois, did you discover the truth behind whatever it was that drew you out to Kansas in the first place?”

“Yes, we rescued Wayne Irig and stopped Bureau 39 from… well, finding the rock Trask claimed could kill Superman. All this was in my story,” Lois said, then slapped her forehead. “That’s why Clark told Trask he was Superman! Just in case that meteorite worked. He wanted Trask to try it on him, see it wouldn’t work, and give up on it.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my, Perry! Do you think that means it might actually work? This Kryptonite stuff? Do you think that’s why the Kents destroyed it after Thomas gave it to them to hold on to? But if it did work, how would the Kents know? On the other hand, maybe they were just erring on the side of caution. But how did they know that was what Bureau 39 was looking for? I should never have put anything about it in my story.”

Her boss held up his hand, and Lois stopped talking. “Kryptonite made the story, Lois. It wasn’t some unimportant detail you could’ve pushed to the side. As far as we know, Trask was crazy and the meteorite wouldn’t have hurt Superman. You need to ask Superman if he knows about this Kryptonite stuff.”

Lois nodded. Would Superman admit to her that there was something that could kill him? Especially if by doing so, she would be endangering him by publishing that information for all his enemies to read. If she found out that it really did harm him, would she write about it or just hold that detail back?

“Ask Kent, or call the Smallville Kents yourself, and ask how they knew,” Perry went on.

She had planned to do anyway, so she just nodded in agreement.

“You told me last month that Kent didn’t like sweets because they reminded him of the death of his folks. Is that not correct?” Perry asked. “And now you’re telling me that his folks were alive and well the whole time?”

Lois crossed her legs and rested her arms on her knees. She hated to lie to Perry about this, but she also felt the need to protect Clark. She didn’t want to get him fired for lying on his application, especially since she knew her partner could do his job and do it well. In this regard, she had already told her boss too much. She didn’t want to lose Clark as her partner. If Perry fired him, Clark would fade into the woodwork, leaving her with a mystery that she was sure would plague her until her dying day. She hated unanswered questions.

“Lois?”

“Yes… um… no… it’s complicated,” she said, glancing back into the bullpen to make sure that Clark still hadn’t returned. He knew how to read lips after all.

“Complicated? Either they are or they aren’t,” Perry said.

“Well, the way I understand it is that his parents died when he was ten and these Kents… kind of… sort of… adopted him… er… later,” Lois finally spat out. Of course the ‘later’ was early that very morning and it wasn’t a legal adoption, but more a way to keep him from being deported if the truth ever saw the light of day.

Perry didn’t appear as if he bought this story. “So, Kent wasn’t lying to you? He didn’t steal the identity of that grave you saw? This is now all cleared up? You’re done investigating him?”

“I didn’t say that,” she admitted before she could stop herself. She winced, clasping her hands to her mouth.

“Lois,” Perry said in a warning tone of voice. “What’s going on, honey? When I talked to you the other day, you were on the point of skewering Kent yourself, now you look twisted up like a pretzel about this.”

She glanced down and saw that she indeed had twisted herself into knots. Her legs were crossed once at her knee, and then again at her ankle. Her arms were also crossed at her wrists with her fingers entwined as they pressed against her mouth. She sat up straight and dropped her hands down at her sides. “I can’t talk to you about this, Perry. I’m sorry.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Uh-huh. Did something happen between you two on your little romantic investigation vacation?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that,” Lois reassured him, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was reassuring him of. Personally, she didn’t know what her boss was thinking.

Perry laced his fingers. “Can you explain why you can’t tell me what’s bothering you about this?”

“It’s personal,” she squeaked. “And since I don’t know the full story myself, I don’t want to spread rumors without facts, rock-solid facts, and get him in trouble over a misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh,” Perry responded, biting the inside of his cheek. She knew what he was thinking: That had never stopped her before.

“Off the record, unofficially, a friend to a friend?” Lois stipulated.

Perry stood up, moved to the other side of his desk, and sat down in the chair next to her. “Okay, honey, off the record. What’s going on?” he asked.

“I overheard something that leads me to believe that my hunch about Clark not being the real Clark, who we’ve been led to believe he is, was spot on,” she whispered.

Perry closed his eyes and she feared he was hiding an eye roll. “This isn’t more suspicions from Luthor, is it?”

Lois shook her head. “No, I heard Clark and the Kents talking. It sounded like Clark knew some personal knowledge of some criminal activity and that there was someone after him,” she explained. “So, he may have borrowed the identity of their dead son.”

“May have?” he asked. “Borrowed?”

“Well, his true name may be Clark Jerome Kent as well, or just Jerome Kent, but he’s not the Clark Kent from Smallville, like he always told us he was. As I told you over the phone, that Clark died in 1966. No, it’s as if Clark has been in hiding for years, trying to find a way to disclose safely this knowledge he possesses. He’s finally decided the best way to reveal the things he knows is under the veil of an investigative reporter. After he got the job with us, he was able to have a real life, and feel like a valuable asset to society, for the first time in years. I’m assuming he likes this new life and has made friends because now he’s afraid that whoever’s after him will use me, or you, or Jimmy, or Cat…” she added to cover up that Clark was only really afraid for her safety. “— to get him to do their bidding or get to him, if his true identity leaks out.”

Perry chewed on this information a bit. “Did he say who it was that was after him?”

She shrugged. “A large criminal organization of some kind, I guess.”

“Do you have any proof that Clark isn’t who he says he is?” he asked.

Lois sucked her lips into her mouth. “No, no solid proof. Only what I’ve overheard and even that didn’t have much in the way of details. That’s why I need to keep investigating, so I can free him from whoever’s thumb he’s under.”

“But if he wanted you to know, wouldn’t he have told you about it?”

She scowled. “There’s our problem. He won’t tell me his secret until I trust him enough to forgive all his lying.”

“It sounds like you’ve already forgiven him,” Perry said.

“I understand now why he lied, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him for lying to me or for keeping me in the dark, and continuing to keep me in the dark,” she grumbled, throwing up a hand. “We were dating, for heaven’s sake!”

Perry raised a skeptical eyebrow. “If this is true, it sounds like the type of secret that is very need-to-know, like witness protection. He might be willing to tell you only if you got engaged or married, not go on just a handful of dates, Lois.”

“But we’re partners!” she exclaimed, and then blushed as she realized that she implied that as partners they were closer than a married couple was. “I do like Clark, and the more I get to know the him, the more I want to get to know him better, but right now I feel more pity than love for him. That’s no basis for a relationship. Anyway, I refuse to give my heart to someone who has told me to my face that he’s keeping stuff from me. There’s a good man there, Perry; I know there is. I’m just trying to find the real him.”

“A-ha!” Perry said, leaning back. “So, he has explained to you why he hasn’t told you.”

She rolled her eyes. “My protection.”

He looked at her for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. “Okay, for now, we’ll just assume Clark Kent is who he says he is,” he suggested. “Poke around, quiet like. If you find anything that isn’t kosher, tell me immediately. I don’t want to out the man if it will put any of us or him at risk, but I’m curious to know what he knows and how he knows it.”

Lois nodded and rested her hand on his arm. “Thanks, Perry.”

He set his hand on hers. “Do you have that Smallville follow-up for me?”

Her eyes lit up. “Better.” She grinned and her eyebrows danced with excitement. “An exclusive.”

Perry seemed intrigued. “What kind of exclusive, darlin’?”

She bit her bottom lip so their discovery wouldn’t fall out of her mouth. “A Superman exclusive! Clark went out to find him.” Lois jumped to her feet. Superman would be coming to the Daily Planet to see her, and she hadn’t checked herself in the mirror since before they had boarded the plane in Topeka. “Um… I’ve got to go prep for this interview!” she said, and rushed out the door.

***End of Part 60***

Part 61

Oh, dear. Clark has his spaceship back. I guess no super virus for him. Comments?