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

Where we left off in Part 79 …

“You have given me much to think about, Lex,” Lois said. “I hope you’ll give me time to consider your kind offer.” She needed time to look deeper into these theories and check out some of the other stories where she and Lex had crossed paths, and figure out if it was just a coincidence or if there had been another reason. She also needed time to word her rejection of his offer in such a way that he wouldn’t know that she now had some solid leads for her investigation.

“Of course, darling,” Lex said, scooping up her hand again and bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “Feel free to call me tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow?” she said with laughter. “Oh, Lex, I’ll need more time than that. I’m swamped at the moment. I have to write up this article on Project Shock Wave, and I’ll be in Washington this weekend. Not to mention that Clark and I still have some follow-ups to do on Thaddeus Rourke, as well as some other irons in the fire. I’ll call you next week.”

“You and Kent?” Lex said with suspicion.

She should have remembered not to mention Clark’s name in Lex’s presence.

“I understand that you two shared the honeymoon suite at the Lexor Hotel, during your current investigation,” he continued.

Lois raised an eyebrow, refusing to answer and daring him to say another word against her partner.

“Since your investigation not only saved Metropolis from a horrible fate, but also rescued Luthor Technologies from a potential P.R. nightmare, I’ve told Mr. Fredericks to only charge the Daily Planet the rate of a double room, during the course of your stay,” Lex offered.

How generous, she thought wryly. Had Lex only brought up the honeymoon suite, and Clark’s role in their undercover operation, because they had been staying at his hotel? Or did he have another reason? “That wasn’t necessary, Lex. We were on an expense account,” Lois said. “But thank you.”

“So, I have nothing to fear in that department?” he said, raising his hand to her face.

“What ‘department’ would that be? The ‘department’ of my life, which is personal?” Lois snapped, stepping further away from him. “Are you accusing me of unprofessional behavior? Of sleeping with my partner on the job? I find it difficult to believe that you would want to associate or partner-up with such a person, less it soil your perfect reputation.” He had stepped across that invisible boundary line once too often. His obsession with Clark was unacceptable. His interest in her wasn’t returned. “Not that it’s any of your business, Lex, but Clark and I took turns on the couch. I got it the first night, him the second.” She turned the handle on the door. “Thank you for the interview, Mr. Luthor. Good day,” she said, opening the door and marching out of his office.

And good riddance!

*

Part 80

Lex watched as Lois slammed the door in his face. Evidently, he had touched a bit too close to the truth to elicit such an overreaction as that. He nodded. Just as he suspected.

He returned to his desk and lifted up his telephone, punching in an extension. “Asabi, Miss Lane just left. Continue to follow her and report back everything, especially anything to do with Mr. Kent.”

“Yes, sir,” Asabi replied, hanging up.

Lex set down the phone and immediately picked it back up, dialing another extension. “Nigel, my office.”

“Right away, sir.”

A couple minutes later, Mrs. Cox called via the intercom to say that Nigel had arrived. “Send him in.”

Nigel entered and stood quietly by Lex’s desk, waiting for Lex to address him. Lex liked the British formality of respect that Nigel paid him. Too bad his other underlings, especially the American ones, didn’t understand it, nor could be properly trained in it.

Lex leaned back in his chair, focusing his attention on Nigel and templing his fingertips. “Good job this morning, disposing of Rourke.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nigel replied with deference.

“What news do we have on Ian Harrington?”

“The Congressman’s helicopter crashed just outside of Toronto, and the money we paid him for his silence recovered,” Nigel announced. “I must say, sir, it was a pleasure to stretch those old muscles again.”

“Good. I’m going to give them a good workout before we’re through, Nigel. First off, I want… no, need to know everything regarding Kent. Break into his apartment and bring me anything of importance, especially anything on his true identity,” Lex ordered. “It’s been long enough since that botched surveillance job for it not to be associated with them.”

“With pleasure, sir. Do you want cameras installed?”

“No need; he won’t be alive long enough for us to justify the expense of having them dismantled before his body is found,” Lex explained with a flick of his hand. “Or his disappearance noticed.”

“Very good, sir,” Nigel said, bowing his head.

“Make sure it looks like petty thieves and not a professional job. We wouldn’t want some promotion-hungry officer to care too much.”

“Of course, sir. May I ask, sir, why go through the trouble of searching his flat before his death? Why not send him off like the others?” Nigel inquired. “And search afterwards?”

“Because, Nigel, I hate loose ends, and if we float him before discovering that answer, we may never learn it,” Lex said. “If I have to, I will torture him to find out the truth, but I will have it before he dies; otherwise, I might end up giving him a second thought after his death. My time is too valuable to waste on second thoughts.”

“Ah. Very good, sir. May I recommend also the National Bank of New Troy? I seem to recall from our previous searches that Mr. Kent rented a safety deposit box there upon his arrival into the city,” suggested Nigel.

Lex relaxed into his seat with a smile. “Yes, let’s do that, but space out the two thefts so that they don’t seem related. Schedule the bank for next week. Do you think you could handle his apartment before the weekend?”

“No problem, sir. Is there anything else?” Nigel asked.

“How are Ms. Lane’s accommodations coming along?”

“Splendidly, sir. Another week and she could wake up there and not know she wasn’t in her own flat,” his majordomo announced. “Shall we stock it with essentials, sir?”

“Excellent,” said Lex. “I doubt it will be necessary to use it quite yet, Nigel, as Ms. Lane seems to be coming around nicely. I do like to be prepared for all circumstances though.”

“Very well, sir,” Nigel said, bowing his head like a good butler and quietly excusing himself from the room.

Yes, Nigel was working out well. Lex was glad he brought the man back up in the ranks. He seemed to have learned his lesson. It wasn’t wise to disappoint the Boss.

***

After typing up her sidebar Project Shock Wave story, Lois could hardly keep her eyes open. The lack of sleep from the last few nights was finally catching up with her. Clark looked as beat as she felt, but still volunteered to walk her home.

They stopped and picked up a pizza to eat for dinner.

“I’m too exhausted to talk,” she warned him as she passed Clark a glass of water and a plate.

Clark slipped open the box and she saw steam rise up from the cheese.

“Oh, good. It’s still hot,” she said, sinking into her chair.

“This isn’t exactly the kind of dinner I imagined us eating tonight, Lois,” he murmured. “Sorry.”

“Do you have the energy to cook? I certainly don’t,” she replied, ignoring his polite apology. She didn’t want to get into that argument again.

“You cook?” he teased.

“Careful, Chuck, I haven’t given you a goodnight kiss yet,” she warned with a playful glint to her eye.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Maybe I should take it now, in case I say something stupid later on.”

She pushed him back with a grin. “You could always give me a kiss ‘good morning’ instead.”

Clark lifted up his second piece of pizza to his mouth. “Or I could do both.”

“Mmmmm. I knew there was a reason I loved you,” she said.

His eyes lit up. “You love me?”

She nudged him again. “You know I do.”

He leaned back in his chair and contemplated her. “Even though I don’t eat sweets?” he asked.

Lois blushed, embarrassed by those words from months ago before shooting him an evil grin. “More for me.”

Clark laughed. “That’s true.”

She took another piece of pizza. “You know, your suitcase is still here,” she said as casually as she could.

“You didn’t burn my clothes?” he said with some shock.

Her brow furrowed. Why would I do that? Then she realized he was joking. “Well, I must admit that I prefer you unclothed,” she said naughtily with a bounce of her eyebrows. “I’ll keep that as an option though.”

His fake shock turned genuine. “When have you…?” he sputtered, and she laughed, setting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Those couple of times I’ve caught you right out of the shower,” she admitted.

“Oh, right,” Clark said sheepishly, grabbing another piece of pizza. “If it’s in your way, I can take my suitcase when I leave tonight.”

Evidently, he didn’t understand her hint about the ‘good morning kiss’. Lois didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to ask him again to stay and again have him turn her down. It was humiliating enough to have been the one to suggest it in the first place. Was he still scared that the same problem he had with his ex-fiancée would happen with her? Was he really that naïve? If that woman was the only experience he had with women, besides Lois, maybe he was. She knew he wasn’t totally dysfunctional. Maybe it was just nerves. Was she rushing things? She had wanted Clark for what felt like years, and her patience was wearing thin.

Of course, she didn’t love Clark only for his body. As with his food phobia, she would have to take her time. Slowly, one step at a time, allow him to become comfortable with this new aspect of their relationship. She guessed she had things to get used to in their relationship as well.

Lois raised the back of her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn, but it was too overpowering and she ended up doing one of those huge stretches that made it seem fake as opposed to real.

“You’re tired,” Clark said, standing up. “I’ll be on my way, and let you get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow after work.”

She walked him to her door. “You’re not going to talk to me at work?” she teased.

He caressed her cheek with one hand and the other arm went around her waist, pulling her to his chest. “I figured you would want to keep this between us,” he murmured before setting his lips onto hers. “For now.”

Did Clark know that his kisses melted her kneecaps? She wondered, taking hold of his shoulders to keep upright.

“Mmmmm,” he said as he reluctantly withdrew his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

Lois pulled him back. So had she, but he was right; she didn’t want to share their relationship with the rest of the newsroom just yet. She loved that she could look at him across the room and smile, and have him return it, and know that they were thinking the same thing.

Several minutes later when she came up for air, her resolve had dwindled. “Stay,” she said, before remembering his fear and not wanting to scare him off, added, “We could just cuddle. I’m too tired for more anyway.” She was lying, as Clark’s kisses were quite revitalizing, but he didn’t need to know that… yet.

“You make it difficult to say ‘no’, Lois,” he replied with another light kiss to her lips.

“Say ‘yes’ for a change then,” she suggested, her fingers dancing down his chest.

“But if I stay, neither of us will get the sleep we need,” he said, taking a step back.

Lois grinned. “And that would be bad?”

Apparently, he didn’t think so, because he suddenly pressed another kiss to her lips. “Tomorrow, Lois. We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” he said, opening the door. “When we both have had a chance to sleep.”

She wondered what exactly it was that he wanted to ‘talk about’. Was he hesitant about progressing further without revealing his past to her? Her eyes widened in happiness. Now, that would be a progress which could beat out physical intimacy… well, for now. For that, Lois was willing to wait.

***

The next day, after a long day of follow-ups on the Rourke, Harrington, and the Project Shock Wave story, including an announcement from the Canadian authorities that Congressman Harrington’s helicopter had crashed with no survivors outside of Toronto, Clark finally was able to make it back to his apartment. Lois was waiting on a call back from a friend at the Toronto Star (“no relation to that rag, the Metropolis Star,” she had reassured him), who owed her favor, and then she was going to meet Clark at his place for dinner within an hour.

Clark had decided it was time to come clean with Lois and tell her the truth about Superman. Today was the day, he had decided. She would then understand why they couldn’t become intimate... well, at least, physically intimate. Clark felt a little guilty about deceiving Lois into thinking that it was due to his abilities, and not the curse, which made it impossible for them to make love… well, impossible for now.

He would tell her that he had an associate researching this problem for him, but a solution could take years, if one was ever found. It was only fair to have her know what she was getting herself into. She cared for him and she cared for Superman, so he had high hopes that this curse was a mere blip on their path together into the future. Sure, she would be mad at him for lying to her about his secret identity as Superman, and possibly about promising to make love to her someday, but he had high hopes that she would forgive him. Until a cure was found, they could still be together, just not physically intimate. He rubbed his brow in frustration as he walked up the first flight of stairs to his apartment.

Maybe, someday, he would try to explain about the curse, when he told her about Herb, time and inter-dimensional travel, and where he truly was from. The curse, in itself, was so implausible that if Herb Wells hadn’t had a history with it and had witnessed Lois’s actual death in the future, Clark wouldn’t believe in it himself; he knew that Lois wouldn’t accept it as fact without the full context. He had no idea how to explain to Lois why this curse would only affect them, which was the main reason he was leaving it out of their conversation altogether for the time being. Why would she believe that they both could have sex with anyone else in the world, but not with each other, and that doing so would cause one of them, and probably her due to his unique physiology, to die? Lois was a very logical person. It didn’t make sense to him, so he doubted it would to her.

Before he told her about Superman though, he was going to confront her once again about her relationship to Luthor. He couldn’t tell her the truth if she was going to sneak around his back and meet with the billionaire. How could he trust her with his most valuable secret if she couldn’t trust him enough to tell him about meeting with Luthor? Although, he had brought up his newest suspicions regarding Luthor with Perry, especially since both Rourke and Harrington’s deaths seemed very convenient for Luthor, Clark wanted his partnership with Lois to be a full one. It was past time to bring her in on the Luthor investigation, but he couldn’t do that if she still considered herself friends with the man. He knew she wouldn’t be happy about the fact that they had excluded her from their powwows. Frankly, he could see her being as upset about that as she would be about his non-disclosure about being Superman.

Clark flipped through the mail he had picked up from the box downstairs as he made the final stairwell turn towards his apartment. He stepped out of the stairwell, across the common area, and to the steps leading up to his apartment. Reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve his keys, he glanced at his front door and saw that it was ajar. He paused, quickly taking in the scene.

His front door had been more than jimmied; in fact, it looked like someone had taken a crowbar to it due to the large crack in the doorjamb. Lowering his glasses, he took a quick scan inside for the thief and saw that whoever had been there was long since gone, and had left a path of destruction in his wake.

Clark exhaled with aggravation and annoyance. He had thought that the blackout curtains over the windows by the front door, the replacement of the glass front door with a more solid one, and the addition of new deadbolt would be enough to deter the would-be amateur thief. Clearly, he had been wrong. It was a pity. He had always liked this apartment. He didn’t want to have to move to a more secure location, but this was the second time in less than a year that his apartment had been broken into.

He was thankful that he had refused to accept Kal-El’s globe as a gift from the Kents. Actually, he didn’t have anything of intrinsic value in the apartment. He kept his money in the bank. The gold remaining from when he first arrived was still in the safety deposit box with the photo of his true adoptive folks. The only items of value that he had in the apartment were his spare uniforms, which he kept in a secret compartment in the back of his wardrobe. It took several men, or super strength, to move the large piece of furniture to access it.

Of course, the last time someone had broken into his apartment, it wasn’t to take things but to leave some behind. Clark slowly approached his front door. So much for an intimate dinner with Lois and a heart to heart conversation regarding his secrets.

***

Lois walked up the steps to Clark’s apartment, passing Inspector Henderson on his way out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with some surprise.

“And ‘hello’ to you, too, Miss Lane,” Henderson said with a nod, but without any further clarification.

That was when she saw Clark’s front door. Someone had done a number on it.

“Clark!” Lois called, running inside.

“Here,” Clark called from his wrecked living room, where he was talking with a large man who seemed vaguely familiar.

Clark’s television was missing, his sofa cut open, his books dumped over the floor, and the kitchen cabinets in disarray.

“Sure, Clark, replace it again," the large man said. "I already authorized the construction when you installed this front door, the last time someone broke in. I don’t understand it. I’ve lived here for twelve years, and we’ve never had a burglary. You move in, and in less than a year, you’ve been hit twice.”

“The neighborhood must be on its way up,” Clark replied in a tone, which made Lois suspect he didn’t believe the words he was speaking. The landlord seemed to buy it though.

“Could be. Bet you didn’t have trouble like this in Iowa,” the man said, giving Clark a nudge with his elbow.

“Hi,” Lois said, moving to Clark’s side and wrapping an arm around his waist, before kissing his cheek.

“Kansas,” Clark corrected, gazing at Lois with relief.

“I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend,” the landlord said, eyeing Lois.

“Times change,” Clark replied, giving Lois a slight appreciative squeeze.

“Okay, Clark. Just remember to make me a copy of the new apartment key when you get the new door and locks installed,” the landlord said, as he headed for the door.

“Will do, Floyd. Again, I’m sorry about this,” Clark said.

No matter what, Clark was Clark. Apologizing to his landlord as if it were his fault that he got robbed.

Floyd stopped at the doorway and took another look around Clark’s apartment with another shake of his head. “I don’t understand it,” he mumbled, leaving.

“I’m sorry, Lois, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to postpone our date for tonight,” Clark said, his shoulders falling. “Yet again.”

“I understand,” she said, resting her hand on his stomach.

He wasn’t paying heed though, moving towards the bookcase. He picked up the white statue, both pieces of it, he found lying on the floor next to his couch.

“Can you glue it?” Lois asked, coming up behind him.

“Yes,” Clark said softly, placing the pieces together so she could see how it was supposed to go.

It was of two faceless figures, a man and a woman, entwined together to make one. She remembered liking it when she had first noticed it on the shelf, months earlier.

“But it won’t be as strong,” Clark went on, running his thumb over the statue’s entwined arms. He closed his eyes, either to shut out the pain of having his life so carelessly invaded by another, or so Lois couldn’t see the anguish he was feeling.

She raised her hand to his cheek. “Hey, now. If you apply the glue properly and adjust it just so, you won’t even see the crack. It will be as good as new.” Lois was trying to sound positive, but she was afraid she was failing miserably.

“The seam will always be there,” he murmured. “It won’t ever be perfect.”

“No, maybe not, but can be just as beautiful as the original, if you can learn to look past that little flaw.”

Clark nodded, setting the statue back on its rightful shelf. “I can, if you can,” he said, turning to give her a small, hopeful smile.

She returned his smile and wondered if they had really been speaking about the statue.

He picked up a photograph of him and Jimmy at a baseball game they went to during the summer. The photo had been ripped out when the frame had been broken. Whoever had been in his apartment hadn’t just robbed it, they had attacked it.

“What did they take?” she asked. “Besides the television and VCR.”

Clark shrugged. “Nothing really. I learned long ago not to keep anything of value or importance in my apartment,” he said, and then added, almost as an afterthought, “I thought I had escaped that part of my life.”

“You’ve been robbed before?” she asked.

“Before I came here,” he said with a nod. “It got to the point when I almost stopped locking my front door, I got so tired of repairing it.”

“Is it the same guys? Have they tracked you down here?” Lois wondered aloud.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” he said, a momentary grin crossing his face, as if she had said something funny. “Come on. I’ll walk you home. I’ll clean this up later.”

“Why don’t you spend the night at my place?” she suggested, and then added casually, “No pressure. You can sleep in the guest room, if you want.”

He stared at her and just from his expression, which she felt down to her toes, she knew that he didn’t want to sleep in the guest room. He pressed his lips to hers with a kiss so full of longing it almost was as if he knew it would be days before he would be able to do so again.

“I better stay the night here, fix up the place, replace the door, and guard my one last intact coffee mug,” he said.

“It isn’t safe,” she murmured, wanting him to stay with her. “They might come back.”

“For what? My word processor?” he scoffed, and then looked around with a wince.

“What?”

“They took that too. Who would steal a word processor from the 80s?” he said in disbelief. “It’s worth like a negative five bucks.”

“I think I know who robbed your apartment, Clark,” Lois said.

“Who?” he asked in earnest.

“Fate. It’s telling you to join the 1990s already,” she replied with a playful bump of her hip. “And buy a laptop.”

He half smiled at her lame joke. “Then what excuse would I have to come over to your place to type up my off-hours articles?” he said, brushing her lips with his in another kiss.

“Oh, I don’t know, Chuck. I’m sure we could come up with something equally plausible,” Lois said, and grudgingly let go of his waist so he could put his winter coat back on. “Hey, I’ve got two working coffee mugs.”

Coat on, he wrapped his arms around her once more. “Sounds like a grand reason to stop by your place for breakfast tomorrow on the way into work.”

“Or…” she said, tugging on his scarf. “You could just stay the night, and you’d already be there for breakfast tomorrow. You left your suitcase last night. Anyway, I’d worry about you and wouldn’t be able to sleep. If you’re at my place, I’ll sleep better.”

Clark raised a brow as if he doubted the validity of her huge, obvious lie. They walked outside and he pulled his door shut. He took his keys from his pocket and then looked at his doorjamb with a sigh, and a shake of his head. “I’ll be fine. Anyway, Inspector Henderson is coming back later and…” He pressed his lips together.

“Henderson? Why?” This was news, and apparently news he hadn’t meant to share.

“He was worried it might be the Voyeur back again,” Clark admitted.

“And you didn’t think to tell me about that? That it wasn’t something I might be interested in?” Lois growled, nudging his waist with her elbow as she removed her arm from around him.

“I don’t think it’s him, Lois, but Henderson wants to double check that no new cameras or mics were installed,” he explained. “He’s coming back in a few hours with a scanning team. Frankly, I think he’s hoping for a new lead. Those men we caught never did tell him who hired them.”

She paused on the landing before the stairwell, a chill prickling her skin. “Is that why you’re leaving your apartment unguarded to walk me home? Just in case the robbers hit my place too.”

He turned and took hold of the lapels of her coat. “I’m walking you home, because I hoped we could stop somewhere to get a quick bite to eat together. I want to get out of my apartment for a while and be reminded of the good luck in my life. You. If I had been worried about your safety, you know I would’ve accepted that invitation to stay with you in a flash.”

That was true. Lois relaxed and continued down the stairs. “Well, I’m sure my super stalker will be hovering nearby anyway.”

Clark rubbed his neck as if it hurt. “Please, don’t call him that.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Isn’t he?”

“He’s not stalking you,” he retorted. “He cares about you and your safety.”

“Fine!” she conceded gruffly. “My super protector.”

“Are you angry at Superman, Lois?” Clark asked. “Because you sound mad.”

“I’m not mad,” she replied, probably a bit more roughly than she meant to.

“As long as you’re not mad,” he said wryly.

She scowled at him, and their conversation went quiet until they reached the mailboxes by the main door.

“Okay, what are you not mad at him about?” he finally asked. His curiosity was worse than hers was, but she loved that he had folded first.

“You.”

“Me?” he repeated. “Why are you mad at Superman about me? Because he came to me, instead of you with what happened out in Hob’s Bay with Rourke?”

Yes! Nevertheless, Lois refused to give Clark the satisfaction of being correct. “He wasn’t jealous one bit when I told him that I loved you,” she said with a slight pout.

Clark took her hand to stop her from opening the door to the street. “Don’t you want him to be happy for us?”

“Of course I do, but it was as if he didn’t believe me, as if you weren’t someone worthy of my love, or as if I weren’t really serious about you and would be chasing after him again any day now,” Lois said. She wished it didn’t sound like Superman was right with her complaining about his lack of reaction, but Superman’s words had stung that little part of her that still was enamored with him.

“That’s not true, Lois. He doesn’t believe that, and you know it,” Clark said, trying to reassure her. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what Superman believed. She didn’t know at all.

“Then why isn’t he even the little bit jealous?” she asked, looking Clark in the eyes. “When I used to mention Lex Luthor’s name, he’d spin like a horde of angry hornets. With you, I tell him that I love you, other than being a bit of surprised, he’s not fazed one bit, calm as a cucumber. I don’t know; it’s like…” She shook her head. “If he’s not jealous of you, it’s like he doesn’t care for me anymore. Maybe he never did. Perhaps everything I had felt for him, and thought that he had felt for me, was all in my head. Maybe that’s why he kept nudging me towards you, because he really didn’t want another groupie hanging off his cape.” Lois couldn’t believe she was talking to Clark about, essentially, feeling bad because her last boyfriend hadn’t really loved her.

Clark pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Lois, you know that isn’t true.”

Still, the tears pooled in her eyes. Why was she upset about this? She wanted Clark. She was in love with Clark. “He lied to me. He said he loved me, but really, he doesn’t. Superman doesn’t lie, Clark, so why would he lie about this? Why would he lie to me?”

Clark opened his mouth, but they heard a key in the lock of the front door and a neighbor walked in. “Good evening,” he said, nodding at the woman, before waiting until she had gotten her mail and headed up the stairs. “Lois, I promise you, tomorrow night, when I’ve had a chance to clean my apartment and the new door is on, we’ll sit down and have Superman come over…”

“No! I can’t,” Lois gasped, raising her hand to her mouth.

His eyes bugged. “You… can’t?” he stammered.

“No, I can’t. I’m going to Washington D.C. tomorrow night. I’m interviewing President Garner about his favorite president for my President’s Day article, first thing Saturday morning,” she explained.

Clark’s shoulders dropped. She couldn’t tell if it was in relief or frustration.

“When I get back Saturday night?” she suggested, gazing up at him.

He took her elbow and opened the front door. “I’m reporter on desk all Saturday night.”

“Oh. So, that wipes Sunday out, too,” Lois grumbled. “Monday? No, wait, there’s some kind of dinner thing for the holiday I’m supposed to cover.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lois, we’ll figure something out. As long as we don’t have another emergency fall out of the sky, we will schedule this date, and soon, minha. I promise,” Clark reassured her with his smile. “I can’t have you going around thinking that Superman lied to you.”

Lois squeezed his arm. He couldn’t, could he? She loved Clark, but he was being really much too supportive. She knew that, at times, Clark had been envious of her feelings for Superman, but he must have gotten over that and truly believed she loved him. She sensed no jealousy at all now, which, given what she had just admitted to him, she found hard to believe.

She would need to figure out some way to break it to Clark that she didn’t want to have a dinner party with her boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend together to discuss how much the ex-boyfriend might still care for her. She had moved on, and Superman had accepted that with his usual aplomb. That was a can of worms she didn’t need re-opened. Lois was sure that dinner would be the most uncomfortable evening of her life.

Anyway, Lois would much rather have a night alone with Clark, with him telling her about his secret past.

*** End of Part 80 ***

Part 81

See, Clark really is trying this time to be honest. Comments