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

Where we left off in Part 74 …

“Is Clark not alone? Is he in a hospital? Has he been seriously wounded?” Lois shot the questions at Superman like bullets from a semi-automatic pistol. “Please, just tell me what happened. I assure you my imagination is making this worse than it probably is.”

His expression appeared more drawn, and her stomach felt full of cement.

“Do you really not remember the last two days?” Superman asked.

Two days? Lois tried to focus her fuzzy thoughts but it was all a blur. She vaguely remembered forgiving Clark for lying to her about his past. They took a cab ride through the park on the way to lunch to celebrate. After lunch, they had ended up at Clark’s apartment, on Clark’s couch, where they had started… no, continued to make out. One of Clark’s sources, who must have tracked them down to Clark’s apartment, had interrupted them. Clark had kissed her one last time, and then told her he’d get rid of the man as quickly as possible, because he had something of great importance to tell her. Then he had left and was gone a long time.

When Clark returned, he was different. He didn’t want to kiss her anymore and never brought up the ‘important matter’ again. He kept claiming that something had happened to her, but she knew the truth. Something had happened to Clark. No matter what she said or did, Clark refused to believe that she loved him anymore. Whoever it was he had gone out to meet had turned Clark against her. The most recent time she had seen Clark, he would hardly look at her in this outfit. The last thing she remembered was pleading with him to give her once last chance. He had left his apartment spouting hurtful words of rejection. Humiliation flooded her.

Slowly Lois shook her head. No, she didn’t know what had happened to Clark to make him reject her after swearing to her that he loved her. It would be better to forget this degrading episode as if it had never happened, and move on.

“You really don’t remember?” Superman repeated, almost in shock. “Go put on Clark’s robe; it’s behind the bathroom door, and I’ll bring Clark here to explain everything.”

That would be a first, Lois thought wryly.

At least, she could be certain of one thing. Clark would lie to her and cover up this entire horrible event. A leopard never changed his spots, and Clark was pure wildcat.

***

Part 75

Clark glanced sheepishly over at Lois. She was still wearing that negligee, but thankfully had covered it with his robe. She had her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, fixed just the way she liked it, from her favorite espresso place.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, taking another sip of her coffee.

At least, Lois was talking to him, but she hadn’t looked his direction since he’d described what had happened over the last two days. He hadn’t left out a single detail. He owed her that much. It was the least he could do, having lied about his secret identity and his past to her. About this, she deserved to have the complete truth.

“Are you going to talk to me?” he asked, after she didn’t say anything else.

“No, too humiliated,” Lois admitted, cradling her coffee up at her lips.

Clark winced. He deserved that verbal slap. He turned to face her. “Lois, I told you, had I realized sooner that you had been drugged, I never would have…” He cleared his throat instead of mentioning how he had opened her blouse and kissed down her chest again. Fortunately, she still had been wearing her bra. “— taken advantage of you.”

“Did you really not realize that I had been drugged until your source told you?” she inquired with a quick glance in his direction.

He flushed and glanced down at his folded hands in his lap.

“You truly thought that after everything that had happened between us, that I would throw myself at you in such a wanton fashion?”

His flush turned beet red. “A man can dream,” he mumbled. “You were very convincing. We’re just lucky that stuff wore off before you had a chance to…”

Lois turned her sad, embarrassed eyes towards him.

“… further humiliate yourself,” Clark finished. They were lucky that Herb had interrupted them when he did, or she’d most likely be dead from the curse. That possibility somehow got lost during the need-to-know phase of his description of the last two days. He figured it wasn’t necessary, since the topic would never come up again.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “And did I really…” She closed her eyes before proceeding. “Crawl across your living room floor on my hands and knees to you, like some wild animal, begging you to make love to me?”

“Um-hum,” he said, nodding. “After you stripped out of that navy suit with the red blouse that reminds me of…” my uniform. The words seemed to fade before he got to the end of his sentence. He cleared his throat.

Following lunch the previous afternoon, Lois had insisted on changing from the white dress and into that suit. They had found Miranda’s advertisement in one of the fashion magazines and decided to pay her little establishment a visit. He had been lulled into complacency with the thought that Lois was acting more like herself, wanting to be professionally dressed before interrogating a suspect. Then she had leaned against his archway, wearing the highest heels he had ever seen on her feet. She ran her hands up her legs, pulling her skirt to the top of her thighs for a moment before continuing to move her hands up her chest to her neck, and finally through her hair and into the air. Noticing his obvious distraction, she had slid the navy jacket from her shoulders and tossed it towards him. That was when he had started to protest to deaf ears.

The red blouse was more a tank top camisole than a full shirt. Her hands had glided down her chest to her skirt, which had then fallen to the floor to reveal those gold lace panties. She had kicked the skirt towards him as well. While he had draped it over the back of the couch with her jacket, she had pulled off the camisole shirt, throwing it in his face. He could still recall her musky scent mixed with a light floral perfume, which permeated the shirt.

Clark had turned towards her to protest this behavior and noticed she only wore the negligee and high heels. His mouth had fallen open as he stared at her. His willpower was at nil; below nil actually, since he stepped towards her, wanting nothing more than to touch the goddess before him.

Instead of being super sexy in those heels though, she had stumbled, and he had to use an ounce of super speed to catch her before she landed on the floor. That was when he realized that it had all been part of her plan, because she took advantage of his proximity to push him to the ground and sit on top of him. As she started to kiss him, she had taken his hands and coasted them down her practically naked body. For one second, a millisecond, he succumbed and moaned with pent up desire. That was when he remembered that with each kiss he was leading closer to killing her.

Clark had pushed against the floor and scampered backwards away from her. She had stared at him like a ferocious lioness, licking her chops, and crawled after him. He had been halted by the stairs to his front door, half frozen in terror, and half melted into a puddle of want. After she had grabbed his hips and tried to unzip his slacks, he had fled up the stairs and out the door. He knew it was too dangerous to remain in her presence any longer.

Lois buried her head into his throw pillow. “Tell me again what you said when you left?” she mumbled, refusing to look at him.

“‘If I stay, Lois, you’ll never forgive me, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself’,” he replied. He shook away the image of Lois crawling across the floor to him in that negligee and focused on making his voice stable. “Lois, please, let’s forget about last night, forget about the last two days, we need to find this Miranda. We need to find out what’s in this stuff, and how and why she’s using it. Come on, I need you.”

She glanced up at him with a startled expression, and he realized how his words must have sounded to her.

“I need my partner back,” he clarified.

Lois continued to stare at him for a moment, before nodding. “Okay,” she agreed, standing up. She found her purse and keys on his coffee table. “I’m going home to get dressed. I’ll be back in an hour, and don’t even think about making me…” She made it as far as his stairs before realizing she was only wearing his robe over her negligee. “Um… uh…”

Clark took a deep breath and stood up. “You moved in with me, yesterday. So, you have a couple of changes of clothes here, not to mention your blue suit. Come on,” he said, entering his bedroom. “I’ll show you where.”

Reluctantly, she followed.

He pointed at his dresser and armoire. “Your toiletries have been put away in my medicine cabinet,” he reminded her, pointing towards his bathroom. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Lois stepped between him and the archway to the kitchen, and set her hand on his chest in a way that he still sent waves of desire down to his toenails and back up through his hair. “Thank you, Clark,” she whispered. “Thank you for not taking advantage of me.”

Clark guiltily felt as if he had taken plenty advantage of Lois, especially since he knew that if Herb hadn’t interrupted them, he probably would still be crying over her cold, dead body at that very moment. “Any time,” he replied, his voice rough. “That’s what friends are for.”

Friends, the closest they could ever be, and the last thing he wanted to “just” be with Lois.

***

Clark pushed open the door to Miranda’s Perfumery, and Lois heard the tinkle of those annoying bells, announcing their arrival. Clark had mentioned that he had tried, again, to call Miranda’s shop while Lois was in the shower, but he hadn’t gotten a response. They decided to stop by in person, on the way into the office. The shop had a cold feeling to it, despite all the lace, dolls, flowers, and stuffed animals in its décor, and Lois wondered if Miranda had the heat turned down for some reason.

Lois’s soul still burned with the embarrassment of her behavior and Clark’s rejection. She was glad she had decided to fake total blackout of the last few days. It allowed them an out to return to how their lives were previously.

Yet, Clark refused to go that route. He insisted on telling her every gory detail of how she had embarrassed herself, repeatedly, and how he – being the bigger man, the ‘unaffected one’ – had been able to ‘save’ her by rejecting her unwanted advances. She wished he had lied or had been the least bit smug, so she could finally put this infatuation with her partner behind her and hate him. Alas, no, her Chuck had to take the high road and insisted on being embarrassed on her behalf. Jerk!

Why couldn’t he have been affected too? Then at least they would be on a level playing field, and possibly in a new relationship, instead of her being humiliated and him thanking his lucky stars not to have been tangled in her web with her biting off his head.

On the way to Miranda’s shop, Lois had asked Clark how he had escaped from being caught in Miranda’s trap. He simply explained he thought Miranda must have sprayed the newsroom staff while he had been out conducting his interviews for his dock strike article. If Miranda hadn’t been so glib about Clark’s satisfaction with her new perfume on his partner, Clark might not have recognized her from Jimmy’s photographs. Lois hated it when Clark’s logic was so damn logical.

They looked around the small boutique and at many of the bottles of perfumes Miranda had on display for several minutes, and still no one came to answer the tinkling of the bells.

“We might as well poke around,” Lois hissed under her breath, in case someone really was in the back room. Perhaps Miranda was there, only hiding from them because she recognized them from her visit to the Daily Planet.

“Hello?” Clark called, pushing aside the beaded curtain, leading to the back room, as Lois went to check the bottles of perfume behind the register.

“Lois,” her partner called to her.

“What did you find?” she asked, peeking through the curtain.

Dangling from the rafters above the worktable was the blonde haired, flouncy shirted perfumer with a rope around her neck.

“She’s cold,” he announced, letting go of Miranda’s ankle. “She’s been dead a while.”

“Terrific,” Lois grumbled. There went their only lead. They might never find out why Miranda had gone after the Daily Planet with such vengeance. She saw several familiar perfume bottles on the counter behind Clark. “Hey, isn’t that the bottle from the photo?” she asked, pointing. “Grab one, and we’ll have it checked out by Dr. Freidman at S.T.A.R. Labs to see if Miranda was indeed our culprit.”

Clark raised a disapproving eyebrow. “This is now a crime scene, Lois. The less we touch, the better.”

“Goody, goody two shoes,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “I’d hate to assume that she was our love bandit only to discover in two weeks time, when the MPD lab finally got around to returning our calls, that there were no pheromones whatsoever in her perfume. At that rate, we’re liable to be scooped by the Metropolis Star.” A stray thought crossed her mind. “Hey, how did your source know it was pheromones anyway?”

Clark shrugged. “He didn’t say. Same way most sources know things, I suppose, they find it out.”

Well, duh! “They know people who know people who know people,” Lois said, picking up on what he had said as she peered at Miranda’s shelves. “I know someone like that.” She stopped in front of a glass cabinet full of 16 ounce brown bottles of liquid. They were all hand-labeled Revenge – 100% Solution. “Hey, Clark, look at this. Looks like someone has been busy creating a new product.”

Clark stepped up next to her. “Revenge? Yikes.”

“Sounds like our stuff,” Lois agreed.

“We don’t know that,” Clark said. “It’s just a name.”

“We’ll know once we have it tested,” she countered.

“Fine, but if I get arrested for tampering with evidence…” he started, swiping from the shelf the bottle resembling the one from the photo.

“I’ll be sure to visit you in jail,” Lois finished.

Clark teasingly threatened her with the bottle. “Play nice.”

“I think you’re next up on the docket as our test subject, Clark. Maybe I’d like to see what pheromones do to you for a change,” she said.

He grinned for a second as if he knew a secret she didn’t and slipped the bottle into the pocket of his raincoat.

Lois turned towards the front of the store to call the police, only to hear her partner mumble, more to himself than her, “You already have.”

She spun around. “What did you say?”

“Look at this,” Clark said, pointing to the desk. “According to Miranda’s calendar, she had a meeting with Lex Luthor yesterday afternoon.”

“Hmmmm,” Lois replied, not wanting to let Clark know that she too found that interesting. “If you want, I can find out what happened at the meeting. I’m having dinner with Lex tonight. He finds me attractive.”

Clark ignored her teasing remark, except to grind his teeth together. “Lois, that’s two women that Lex Luthor knew personally, who have shown up murdered,” he reminded her. “You should cancel your date.”

“Are you jealous, Chuck?” she asked, leaning towards him. “Because you had your chance, and you didn’t take it?”

“Are you saying the only chance I would have had with you is while you were under the influence of a love drug?” Clark countered, his voice sounded hurt.

“We’ll never know now, will we?” she responded, turning towards the front door. “We should call MPD before they show up and find us here. Anyway, we don’t know that Miranda was murdered. It looks like suicide to me.”

Clark held out his hand. “Five bucks?”

Lois grinned and shook his hand. “You’re on!”

***

Monday morning, despite her waiting on hold, Clark walked up to Lois and dropped a faxed copy of Miranda’s autopsy report on her desk. “Murder. That’ll be five bucks, please.”

She snatched up the paper and quickly read it. “Evidence of multiple strangulation points and bruising consistent with an attack from another person,” she summarized, tossing the paper back at Clark. “But it also says that it was the rope, which killed her, not the hand-to-hand strangulation. Murder was inconclusive. You didn’t win.”

“It shows that someone strangled her until she passed out and then put a noose around her neck and strung her up to die. That sounds like murder to me,” Clark retorted.

She picked up the paper and read it through again. “Or possibly she had been upset that Lex had rejected not only her new perfume, but also her personally. According to Lex, they had dated briefly several years before. She came by earlier in the week, hoping to rekindle the old flame and get some new funding for her project. Lex admitted that he believed that she had sprayed him with Revenge then, when he announced he was cutting off her grant, in hopes of changing his mind. When that didn’t work, she claims to have created a perfect perfume, which the masses would be clamoring for, but he didn’t believe her. She insists on doing a test run, which sadly turned out to be us here at the Daily Planet. After their meeting on Thursday, in which Lex unilaterally rejects her and her love-drug, she stops by a bar and has a few drinks. Alcohol was found in her system. Perhaps someone from the bar attacked her and she just barely escaped. Depressed, she returns to her shop and hangs herself.”

“Wow, that’s some bad day. Luthor must consider himself quite a catch, if in his genius he has come up with that theory,” Clark said dryly.

“It fits the facts,” Lois replied, hating that Lex was once again coming out on top looking more like a cherry than the slime she knew him to be. “Your theory that Lex is a mass murderer, who strangled her because he’s evil, does not. Anyway, Lex is the third richest man in the world and has been at the top of Metropolis Magazine’s Most Eligible Bachelor list six years running; he doesn’t need to stoop to murdering an ex-girlfriend.”

“Five years,” Cat interrupted from where she was clearly eavesdropping from her desk. “He’s dropped down to number two this year.” She tossed a proof copy of the magazine on Lois’s desk.

Lois picked it up. “Superman named Metropolis’s Most Eligible Bachelor? Please!” She shook her head. “Didn’t those idiots even speak with Superman? He’s ineligible because he doesn’t date. It would be like nominating the Pope or Mother Teresa.”

Finally, she heard a person and not music on her line and tossed the magazine to Clark.

“Will you hold, please?” the voice on the other end asked.

“No! I’ve been holding for fifteen minutes,” Lois demanded to the music in her ear. Didn’t anyone even wait until she could answer anymore, before putting her back on hold?

“Still, it’s a nice honor,” Clark was saying to Cat, as he flipped through the magazine. “I’m sure he’s flattered.”

Lois rolled her eyes. She was sure Superman didn’t care one way or another. She waited for a few minutes for someone to appear on the line.

“Hello, White House Press Office,” a woman said.

“Finally,” Lois murmured under her breath, before raising it to be heard by the woman on the other end. “Hi, this is Lois Lane at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. I need five minutes with President Garner. I’m interviewing the last five presidents and asking them who their favorite president was and why. I’ve already interviewed the other four, and it would really make our President’s Day edition to have the President included.”

Lois was transferred to a scheduling secretary and an appointment was penciled in at the White House for the Saturday before President’s Day. It was a low-ball question, but at least she could check off her to-do list ‘interview the last five sitting presidents’. How many other reporters could do that?

As Lois hung up, the morning mail was dropped on her desk and Clark crossed the room towards her to return the magazine back to Cat. “There’s just something off about this whole pheromone perfume thing, Clark. It feels flat,” she said to him.

“Flat?” he echoed in confusion. “How so?”

“Miranda’s death, it’s so pat. I feel like we’re missing something,” she said with a shake of her head, as she tore open an envelope from the Lexor Hotel with her letter opener.

“Like what?” Clark asked.

“Action.”

“Action?”

“Yes, action," she went on. "I feel like we needed an edge of our seat chase, where Superman rescues me from over a vat of boiling chemicals at the last second. Then he races into the sky to capture Miranda in her crop duster before she sprays her one hundred proof Revenge over the city. Unfortunately, when sucking up the potion, Superman gets infected and comes back down to Earth to drop to one knee to profess his undying love to me,” Lois said with sigh. “I, of course, knowing he was under the perfume’s spell would be the better person and not take advantage of him.”

Like hell! She would so kiss him, and thus ending their stalemate of affection. Their relationship would start up again as he flew her into the clouds and they lived happily ever after. It could have happened, she tried to convince herself with a dreamy sigh. As with all her daydreams about Superman, it was just another fantasy.

“Uh-huh,” Clark replied skeptically. “You want Superman to profess his undying love to you on bended knee? This would be Pope Superman, the abstinent superhero?”

Lois shrugged innocently. “It would be a nice change from being the one always doing the mooning.”

Clark merely shook his head. Cat, on the other hand, was almost apoplectic with giggles. Big surprise.

“Hey, did anyone ever untie Ralph from the chair in the storage closet?” Lois asked as she unfolded the letter from the Lexor Hotel.

Her partner grinned. “Has anybody missed him yet?”

“I haven’t!” Lois laughed. It was the first time she had laughed in days. It felt good. As soon as her partner walked away, the laughter fell from her lips. She still wanted Clark with her entire being, Superman daydreams, or not. She still wanted Clark to want her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the painful memories of being loved, then rejected, by him.

Prying her eyes open again, she looked down at the letter in her hand. It was a confirmation of her reservation for six nights at the Lexor Hotel’s honeymoon suite. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the final total. They had to be joking. There was no way she would have agreed to… oh, right, Revenge. She picked up the phone and dialed the number at the bottom of the letter.

“Hello, Miss Lane?” a crisp Bostonian accent said on the line a few minutes later. “This is Mr. Fredericks, General Manager at the Lexor Hotel, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I understand you have problems with your reservation with us.”

“Yes,” Lois said, lowering her voice. “Apparently, when I was drugged last week, I called the Lexor and made reservations for the honeymoon suite over Valentine’s Day weekend. I got your confirmation letter in the mail today, and I would like to cancel. I’m not getting married now, or anytime in the near future, and I refuse to pay twelve hundred dollars for the privilege of spending even one night in your hotel.”

She heard the clicking of computer keys from over the line.

“Ah, yes, Miss Lane. Here it is. You and Mr. Kent are to check in this Friday, the eleventh, and check out next Wednesday, the sixteenth, is that not correct?” Mr. Fredericks asked. “This twelve hundred a night charge includes three meals a day, the fully loaded bar in the suite, a bottle of our finest champagne every night, theatre tickets, a scenic tour of Metropolis, twelve dozen bouquets of red roses, a his and hers day at our full-service spa, and a complimentary gift basket.”

“No, no, no! There’s been some kind of mistake,” Lois roared before lowering her voice once more. “The meals, I’ll grant you, make sense, but theatre tickets during a honeymoon? A tour of Metropolis? I’m from Metropolis! I could give a tour. Show me a honeymooning couple out on the town, and I’ll show you people who haven’t just gotten married.”

“Actually, Miss Lane, the theatre tickets and scenic tour are very popular with our out of town guests,” Mr. Fredericks explained.

Figures! “Okay, can you then explain how, if a ‘gift’ basket is included in the cost, it is complimentary?”

“Touché, Miss Lane,” Mr. Fredericks replied. “If we remove the theatre tickets and the tour of Metropolis from the package that lowers the cost to…” Lois heard more typing. “Nine hundred ninety-nine dollars a night, plus tax.”

“But, Mr. Fredericks, I’m not getting married. This reservation was made in error,” Lois grumbled, wanting to yell, but she also didn’t want to have her co-workers overhear her. Thankfully, Clark had run out of the office before Mr. Fredericks had picked up the line.

“You didn’t make this reservation? It seems that the credit card that was given to us has been verified and accepted as yours, Miss Lane,” Mr. Fredericks replied.

“Yes, I made the reservation, Mr. Fredericks, but it was a mistake. Mr. Kent never proposed to me, we were never going to be married. It’s all a dreadful nightmare,” Lois clarified, her voice rough.

“You thought Mr. Kent had proposed?” Mr. Fredericks questioned in disbelief. “And on that assumption made reservations at our hotel for the twelve hundred dollar a night honeymoon suite?”

“No, Mr. Fredericks. Last week I was part of that group of reporters from the Daily Planet, who were drugged by the love perfume,” Lois defended her actions. “I mistakenly believed that Mr. Kent and I were engaged. I didn’t recall making the reservation until I received your confirmation letter in the mail today. I spoke to your reservations person…” She checked her notes. “Sandy, and she told me I would need your authorization to cancel my reservation.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Lane, for the confusion and for your ordeal, but it is Lexor policy that any hotel packages canceled within the week of the reservation be charged for at least one night’s stay. I will be able to discount the room to six hundred dollars a night due to Mr. Kent’s absence, and reduce your stay to Friday night, but that’s the best I can do,” Mr. Fredericks offered.

“Excuse me! Are you telling me that despite the fact that I made this reservation within this week, taking it off your hands after someone else had canceled it first, and despite the fact I was not in my right mind when I made this reservation, I am still responsible for six hundred dollars?” Lois sputtered. “That’s not even half of the nine hundred and ninety-nine dollar amount you just quoted me!”

“That is our policy, yes, Miss Lane,” said Mr. Fredericks.

“You do realize that I work for the Daily Planet, and that I could write an article about your mistreatment of me in our paper,” she said.

“Do you realize, Miss Lane, that the Lexor Hotel spends well over twenty thousand dollars in advertising revenue in the Daily Planet travel section yearly? Therefore, I doubt your editor will accept your libelous article for publication,” Mr. Fredericks replied.

Lois swore under her breath, knowing he was probably right. “I should take you to small claims court,” she threatened.

“You could, Miss Lane, where I’m sure you would spend more than six hundred dollars in court fees and attorney costs though.”

Damn, Lois grumbled. She could bring up the matter with Lex, but the thought of having him intervening on her behalf felt demeaning. Additionally, she didn’t really want to owe Lex a favor or have him latch onto Clark as a person of interest again. “How about you cancel the flowers, the spa day, champagne, and the full bar, along with the theatre tickets, the scenic tour, and included meals, with the exception of one room service dinner and breakfast, and only charge me two hundred and fifty dollars for Friday night’s room, and we call it even?”

“That’s seems acceptable. Should you change your mind and add Mr. Kent back on to the reservation, it would be raised back up to five hundred dollars for the one night, Miss Lane,” Mr. Fredericks said.

“That’s not going to happen. I would like you to fax me a confirmation of this price,” Lois said, giving him her fax number. “And I’ll see you, and my complimentary gift basket, on Friday night.”

“Nice doing business with you, Miss Lane. Good day to you,” Mr. Fredericks said, hanging up the line.

Lois slammed the phone down and called Mr. Fredericks a long list of obscenities under her breath. She folded up her confirmation letter and tucked it into her calendar. It looked like she would stay at the Lexor for a night of stressful relaxation this Friday. She had a whole night in the honeymoon suite by herself to remember how she and Clark had almost been in a perfect relationship full of love and affection.

Just what she needed.

*************************
To Be Or Not To Be Married
*************************

Lois cleaned up the files on her desk and made sure everything was neat and tidy. Then she turned off her computer and switched off her lamp.

If she was going to have to pay highway robbery to the Lexor, she was going to get her money’s worth. If check-in was at three o’clock, she’d be there at three on the dot. Check-out was at eleven. They would have to deal with her until eleven tomorrow morning. They damn well better not have forgotten her complimentary gift basket either.

She reached under her desk and pulled her overnight travel bag out and set it on her desk. She picked up her briefcase and slung it over her shoulder.

“Lois, are you going somewhere?” called her nosey partner from over at his desk. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to sneak away without him noticing.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Lois simply replied. Clark needed no more of an answer than that.

“Where?” Clark asked, crossing over to her. Clearly, he did.

“I don’t mean this to sound rude, Clark, but it’s none of your business,” she said, taking down her coat and putting it over her arm.

“You’ve got a scoop, don’t you?” he said with curiosity written all over his face.

“The revolution in South America?” Jimmy guessed.

“Na-uh,” countered Cat. “The riots in Miami.”

“Five bucks,” Jimmy said to Cat, holding out his hand.

“You’re on,” Cat agreed, shaking on the deal.

“Lois,” Perry said, approaching her posse. “You’re going to have to clear this first with Sgt. Zymak. He still considers all of us suspects in Miranda’s murder and has ordered us to stay in town. After that man realizes that, had you wanted to kill Miranda, you would have found a more creative way to do so than choking her, you’ll have to clear your trip with the budget office.”

“I’m not going on a story. I do have a personal life,” Lois said, defending herself.

They all looked at her blankly, expecting more. Evidently, none of them believed that she did have a personal life.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine! If you must know, I’m on my way to check into the Lexor Hotel for a night of pure relaxation.” Even if it killed her.

“It’s a prison break upstate,” Perry guessed, pointing at her.

Clark pointed at the Chief, agreeing with him.

Lois was getting really annoyed. They all acted as if she never took a day off, as if she was all work.

Work first, pleasure later, the memory of Clark’s voice echoed through her head.

Makes Clarkie a very dull boy, she had responded in a baby doll voice and pouted lips.

She reached into her briefcase and pulled out her confirmation letter from Mr. Fredericks out of her calendar. “Do you want to see my reservation?” She held it out to them. She should have known better, but she was perturbed and not thinking straight.

Perry took the letter out of her hand. “Darlin’, this is for the honeymoon suite,” he announced with a sidelong glance at Clark.

Lois snatched the paper back before Clark could see his name on it.

“The honeymoon suite?” her partner sputtered in shock.

“It was all they had available,” she lied.

“Lois Lane in the honeymoon suite?” Cat scoffed.

“Stranger things have happened,” Jimmy said, defending Lois. Kinda, sorta, not really.

“Name one,” Cat insisted.

“Thank you all very much,” Lois said. They couldn’t possibly insult her any more. “I’m leaving now.”

She was able to make it two steps before Clark blocked her path. In a soft voice he asked, “Are you checking in alone?”

Oh, heavens! He was just asking for trouble. She put a pout to her lips. “Chuck,” she crooned in her best Revenge addled voice, as her fingers danced across his chest. “Don’t you remember? You promised me we would spend tonight together as husband and wife?” She turned suddenly, slamming him in the gut with her briefcase. “Of course, I’m checking in alone!”

Clark doubled over. “Gotcha,” he gasped.

“Lois, a word,” Perry called as she headed up the steps to the elevators. He crooked his finger and motioned to his office.

“I’m going to be late, Perry. Check-in is at three,” she said as her perfectly laid plans got pushed aside.

“This will only take a minute,” Perry said, ushering her into his office, and shutting the door.

“Perry, I’m only taking one night off. Why is everyone acting as if the world is ending?”

The Chief sat down on the corner of his desk, and pointed to a chair. “Sit!”

She sat, dropping her overnight bag to the floor beside the chair.

“You’ve got to admit, the idea of you spending a night, even one night, just relaxing, is a little… well, farfetched,” he said.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Lois snapped back.

“Honey, that reservation was for a Mr. and Mrs. Clark Kent,” Perry said, letting her know that he had noticed that one little detail.

There was a crash out in the newsroom.

“What in blue blazes?” Perry grumbled, jumping to his feet.

Lois stood up, and together they watched as Clark picked up his now cracked automatic pencil sharpener from the floor. Perry shook his head and they returned to their seats.

She bowed her head and spoke softly. “I made the reservation a week ago, Perry,” she explained, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Actually, I ordered a whole package deal through next Wednesday for Clark and me. When I called to cancel, due to the obvious error, they insisted on charging me for one night’s stay anyway.”

“Go on. No one deserves a night off more than you, Lois,” Perry said, patting her shoulder.

“Thanks, Perry,” she said with a nod. She picked up her bag and headed for the door. Her eyes automatically drifted over to Clark’s, and she noticed he was staring at her, his expression unreadable. Without saying another word to anyone, she turned towards the elevators and her night full of tears, misery, and broken dreams.

***End of Part 75***

Part 76

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