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

Part 93

Part 94

“I’m not him!” Clark said, holding up his hands in self-defense. “I know I may have said that to get you into the sack, but it’s not true. It’s not!”

Cat put her hands on her hips and gave him a sour look. “Honeypants, if you had wanted me in your bed, you wouldn’t have needed to make up any lies to get me there. I wanted you that way even before I knew you were a super powered sex machine.”

“So, you and I…” Clark gulped, pointing between them. “We never…”

She smiled like a Cheshire Cat. “Oh, so now you’re tempted.”

“No!”

“I don’t know about that, Clarkston,” Cat said with a slight pout to her lips. “You must be tempted a little bit to think that we did the horizontal Watusi. I’m sure you must be at least curious what being with me would be like. My hands and tongue on your bare skin. The heat of my body making you scream with pleasure. Maybe washing Lois from your mind was the one chance I needed to finally lay my hands on you.” She shrugged, pulling off her sweatshirt to reveal a body hugging t-shirt. “I’m willing to try anything to get your memory back.”

“I haven’t forgotten about Lois!” he insisted, moving further away and inadvertently through the arch into his bedroom. “I love her!”

“Of course, you remember your love for Lois. That you’re strong enough to move that bureau there,” she said, indicating his armoire with a tilt of her head. “That you can’t remember.”

“I can’t move that thing,” Clark said, going around the other side of the bed to head into the kitchen. “It must weigh a ton.”

“Small potatoes for a man who lifted a space station into orbit, don’t you think?” Cat retorted. “I want you to prove to me that you can’t move it.” She put her knee on the bed to crawl across it towards him.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. How am I to prove to you that I can’t do something?” he said, continuing to back away.

“If you can’t do it, then I’ll realize that you’re not healed enough to fly into space. Otherwise, I’ll need to stab you with one of your kitchen knives,” she said, nodding towards his kitchen counter.

Oh, no! Coming this way hadn’t been a good idea. He circled back around and picked the phone up off the floor. “Martha? Jonathan? Cat’s gone nuts! Call the police, will you?” he said, but didn’t hear a response. The phone must have disconnected when either he dropped it or the Kents had hung up. He clicked the ‘end’ button and set it down on the empty TV stand.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Clark,” Cat purred in a very seductive manner. “I’m here to help you.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “You’re off your rocker, lady. I’m sorry that I ever told you I was Superman…”

“You didn’t tell me,” she returned. “I figured it out.”

“Okay, so, you thought that you had figured it out, and I didn’t correct you,” he said. “I’m still not Superman.”

“I saw you clean and paint this apartment in less than five minutes,” she said, crossing her arms, and then she pondered what she said. “Well, technically, I couldn’t really see you, because you were moving so fast.”

Clark stopped and stared at her. “I… I… what?”

“Did you think I was basing this knowledge only on facial recognition, without proof? Please, I’m a journalist! I require facts,” Cat groaned in irritation, with a roll of her eyes. “Clark, I helped you sew up a replacement cape after your first one got damaged in a bomb blast. You flew me to Paris for Fashion Week... in your arms. I know you. I know who you are, and if you could move that bureau over there, I could prove it to you too.” She flung her hand out to the armoire.

“Fine. I’ll fail to move it. I’ll prove to you that I’m just some normal guy…” Clark said, moving to the armoire.

Cat sat down on the bed and curled her knee up to her chest. “Sexy thing, even if you lost your super strength, you’d never be ‘normal’,” she said, biting her bottom lip, as she looked him up and down. “No, sirree.”

“Cat, could you cut out the flirting, please,” he grumbled, trying to figure out where on the armoire he should put his hands to move it.

“Is it turning you on?” she purred.

Clark looked up to the ceiling in annoyance, ignoring her toying with him as best he could. He had to admit that while she was an attractive woman, he didn’t desire her as he did Lois. Cat just wasn’t the woman he wanted.

“So, how do I normally move this thing?” he asked, unable to wrap his arms around the huge piece of furniture.

Cat shrugged. “I don’t know. You put your hand between it and the wall and give it a nudge.”

He looked at her skeptically. “A nudge?”

“You’re Superman. If you wanted to you could knock down a building with the flick of your finger,” she replied.

Clark gulped. “Is he really that strong?” He pulled out his hand and clutched it to his chest, stepping away from the armoire. If what she was saying was true… “Why?... why?... Why would you want to be intimate with someone like that, Cat? Couldn’t he hurt you, possibly kill you?”

“It’s all about control, Clark. Use too much heat vision and you could melt your coffee cup. Use the right amount…” Cat moaned with a lick of her lips. “You could warm me up just toasty.”

“But… but if I’m him, I have no control right now,” Clark said, closing his eyes to stop the possible use of heat vision in his apartment.

He heard her step off the bed and then felt her hand touch his arm. She ran it up and down, stopping on his bicep, giving it a little squeeze. He didn’t want to move for fear of hurting her. Her chest pressed against his back. Her breath and then her lips softly brushed the back of his neck. “Do you want to have sex?” she whispered.

“Cat! No!” Clark exclaimed, stepping away.

“See, control. You still have it. If you didn’t, we’d be rolling around messing up your sheets right now, big fellow. I guarantee it,” she said, returning to the bed and lying down on her stomach. “Now, open your eyes and slowly try to move the bureau there.”

“It’s an armoire,” he corrected, causing her to roll her eyes. Clark raised his hand to the top of the armoire and estimated where it would fall if it tipped forward. “Maybe you should move back, just in case you’re right.”

Cat scooted back to the head of the bed and pressed her back against the wall with her knees to her chest, before waving at him to continue.

He took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, sliding his hand between the back of the heavy piece of furniture and the wall.

“Wait!” Cat said, holding up her hands. “Just use a little strength, and if that’s not enough try a little more. This is just a test to see if your powers are back.”

Clark nodded, feeling ridiculous. He couldn’t believe she had convinced him to try this. He gave the armoire a nudge and nothing happened. “See?”

“Now, try a little more, only this time concentrate,” she suggested. “I’m guessing you’re so used to controlling your powers they’re on autopilot at the moment.”

“Here goes nothing,” he said, nudging the armoire again. It slid forward about an inch. His eyes widened. What the…? He bent over to see if the armoire was on casters or something. It was sitting on the bare concrete floor. How had it moved?

Cat clapped. “Again!”

He set his hand back where it had been before and gave the armoire another, albeit stronger, nudge. This time the piece moved about a foot forward. “Well, I’ll be,” he said with some surprise.

“That’s enough,” she said, jumping off the bed and rushing towards him. “Move!”

Clark stepped back and stared at his hand. How in the world was that even possible?

Cat reached behind the armoire, pushed something, and a hidden compartment popped open. “Voilà!” she announced, throwing her hands up into the air and then scooting back to the bed.

He reached inside the secret compartment and, after feeling around inside it for a few seconds, pulled out a hanger that had a primary blue unitard with an attached red cape hanging from it. Clark stared at the Suit with his mouth open. He gazed over at Cat’s excited face and shook his head. “No. No. No. You have to be kidding. I do not wear this!”

***

“Where are we?” Lois asked, as they stepped out into a corridor.

“Lex Towers,” Lex replied with a wry smile. “In fact, where we’re standing is precisely five hundred meters below Metropolis street level. We’re surrounded by sixteen inch concrete reinforced walls, originally designed to withstand a nuclear attack.”

“A bunker?” Lois said. Why didn’t that surprise her? Didn’t every multi-billionaire have one?

Lex gently took her arm and led her to a backlit site-map on the wall. “Well, I prefer to think of it as an ‘ark’. We’ve got room for two-hundred people, supplies to last three years, tools and implements for farming and manufacturing for when we re-emerge.”

“So, if the world dies, you live?” she asked. Him and a hundred and ninety-nine of his cronies, like Nigel St. John, Mrs. Cox, and Asabi? Lovely. If this were his idea of Utopia, she would pass, unless of course he meant that the four of them and a hundred and ninety-six of their buddies would be locked in his bunker for the next three years leaving Lois, Clark, and the rest of world to live in peace. Superman, of course, would have saved Earth.

“The survival of a species does not depend on the survival of all of its members,” Lex said, as if the rest of the population of Earth were a mere afterthought. “In fact, if the dinosaurs were possessed with a somewhat larger brain, they too might have survived their fate. Luckily, for us, they didn’t.” He moved to a huge bouquet of flowers in an urn and trimmed one off.

Lois was sure the dinosaurs wouldn’t have created an underground ark as Lex had, and was slightly puzzled by his cocky analogy, except that Lex thought the human race was about to become extinct and that he was smarter than a giant lizard.

It was just like Lex to decorate his bunker like his penthouse with big urns and antiques. Very practical. This man understood money, finance, and business. He knew how to hire people to tell him what he wanted to know and to do what he wanted done. He didn’t understand how to survive by scratching out an existence with his bare hands. Sure, he probably did in theory, but not in actuality. What an arrogant man he was to think this was ‘the key to Earth’s future’.

“Do you think that the human race is about to become extinct, Lex?” she asked as he handed her the flower.

“Should the Nightfall asteroid strike Earth, it could throw enough dust into the air to start a new ice age,” Lex said, pretty much telling her exactly what Professor Daitch had told Superman. “It’s a little under half the diameter as the meteorite considered to have killed the dinosaurs, Lois.”

“So, you don’t think that this smaller version of the Nightfall asteroid will cause less damage than the larger one was predicted to do?” she countered, smelling the flower. It was practically odorless.

“The larger one would have missed Earth completely. So, yes, I do,” Lex said.

The muscle in Lois’s jaw stiffened as she stared at him. Had he just proven her dream right? “How do you know it was going to miss?”

“We, in the scientific community, have known about the Nightfall asteroid for over a year now, my dear. My team discovered it while we were working on the plans for Space Station Luthor. If Superman had taken a minute to get a second opinion, he might still be around to do this planet some good,” Lex said with pity. “My scientists predicted that Nightfall had less than a thirty-five percent chance of hitting Earth.”

Those were the same percentages that Professor Daitch gave Superman before he revised them to under ten percent. Why had Daitch’s numbers changed but Lex’s hadn’t?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she growled.

“There wasn’t time. By the time I learned what EPRAD had convinced Superman to do, he had already left on his mission,” Lex said with a shrug. “Leaving the rest of us to clean up his mess.” He indicated the bunker map, as if his ark was humanity’s only chance.

“Do you want me to write about this?” Lois asked, knowing that doing so would probably sign Luthor’s death sentence with humanity.

While both Lex’s ark and his confirmation of her vision might be considered newsworthy, on the cusp of the Earth’s destruction it seemed mean-spirited to print it. Both would probably anger people more than be helpful. She knew this to be true, because right now, she was having difficulty controlling her desire to punch Lex. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that she didn’t have the code to operate the elevator. Without it, Lex could lock her down here forever. With Clark’s brain on the fritz and Superman MIA, forever might actually be an eternity.

If the one time Lex wasn’t on the forefront of knowledge happened to be what led civilization and Superman to ruin…

“No. No, I seek no publicity,” Lex replied pompously, taking Lois’s arm and leading her down the corridor. “In fact, considering the circumstances, I think advertising the existence of someplace like this, or how EPRAD and Superman had been wrong, would be somewhat cruel.”

Golly gee, good thing he was here to tell her this, because she never would have figured that out on her own.

“So, why am I here?” she asked, as the thought of Clark’s lips on hers flitted across her mind.

“Ah-ha!” he said with almost a playful grin. He turned a corner into a section of the corridor that reminded her of the hall outside her apartment and opened door number 501, which just happened to have five locks on it just like her front door. Somehow, she sensed what she was going to see before she saw it.

Lois stepped through the doorway to find herself standing in a familiar room. “This is my apartment,” she said, walking inside. Well, this was clearly not her apartment, since she lived on the fifth floor of Carter Avenue and not five-hundred meters below it. This was more the Twilight Zone version of her apartment.

“Well, it’s a reasonable facsimile thereof,” Lex corrected. “I hope you like it.”

“Of course I like it, I decorated it, but I… I… I’m a little confused,” she said. And nervous, she added silently. True, Lex had been over to her apartment once or twice while they had dated last summer, but never often enough to be able to replicate it to such painstaking detail.

“I’m offering you a chance, Lois, to become a passenger on this ark, to be my special guest on mankind’s next great adventure,” Lex said as if he were volunteering to save her life, instead of holding her captive.

Once again, Lois’s jaw dropped open with surprise, and she turned away from him, her heart racing. She knew from her dreams that Lex thought himself in love with her, but this… this stepped over the line for obsession. She turned to face him. “Why me?”

Lex closed the gap between them. “Because I care,” he said, and she could see it in his eyes that he did care. “And, I must admit, three years will be a long time without… companionship.”

Lois blushed. There was no other way to interpret his words and, for Lex, he was being quite frank. He was inviting her to join his ark as his… she glanced away… his companion. She could be naïve and assume he meant ‘friend’ but that would be just plain stupid. They weren’t friends. Lex liked her enough to want her to survive Nightfall’s impact. She wished she could say the same for him.

She had to admit that a part of her was flattered. The world's third richest man had chosen her out of all the women in the world as his companion, but there was no way that she would accept. She was in love with Clark and, even if she weren’t, she wouldn’t accept. She was beginning to discover what kind of man Lex really was, and trading her personal self-worth for a space in Lex’s ark would make her feel no better than a prostitute. She would rather risk her survival in the outside world, thank you very much.

Lois wanted to ask Lex what exactly he meant by ‘companion’. Was he asking her to marry him? To be his wife? No, he hadn’t used those words, and he had on more than one occasion demonstrated to her that he didn't consider their relationship to be an equal one. Therefore, what did he want from her? A mere bedmate? A concubine? His prisoner? However, Lex would probably misconstrue her meaning, if she asked him such a question. He would take anything other than a clear rejection as acceptance. On the other hand, how would Lex construe her rejection? What would he do?

“Well, I… uh… I don’t know… I…” she sputtered to come up with something to say as Lex was waiting. She sat down on the hard sofa.

“Think about it. I’ll await your decision,” Lex insisted, leaving her alone in the apartment.

No, Lois’s imagination must be running wild again. She took a deep breath and exhaled, finding it easier to breathe once he left.

Lex Luthor was a multi-billionaire; he had the funds to replicate her apartment and effortlessly at that. It was possible that he was so out of touch with people that he didn’t realize how creepy this was. It was possible that he had been trying to be sweet, and yet…

Her pillows, the carpet, coffee table, desk, the fabric on her sofas were exactly as they were… actually, she had replaced this sofa with a light blue comfy one before checking into the Lexor Hotel for her night of stressful relaxation, before she and Clark had mended fences. She had found a store that delivered, so she hadn’t needed Superman or Clark’s assistance after all.

Lois continued to search for differences between this apartment and hers. She gulped as she saw something over by the dining room table. She picked up a vase that looked exactly like one she used to own. It had been broken before Christmas. She went into the kitchen and opened a drawer. There was pot she had thrown out last November after trying to cook some homemade cranberry jelly to go with her microwave Thanksgiving dinner. It had been easier to throw it away than try to clean it.

She went into the bedroom and saw that someone had made the bed with her favorite sheet set. The bathroom had replicas of her toiletries inside the medicine cabinet. Lex had been in neither of those rooms in her apartment. She returned to the living room. The windows where Superman had on occasion flown in were merely holes in the wall with blue lights shining against a white wall. She shut the drapes, feeling like the air was being sucked out of the room.

Lois had a fish tank, not a birdcage. In fact, that was what this room, this copy of her apartment felt like… like a gilded cage built just for her.

Then it struck her, what was off about this apartment. This wasn’t her apartment as it was currently. This was what her apartment had been last summer, back when the Voyeur had been spying on her.

Oh, crap! Damn Kent! Did he have to be right about that too?

A chill passed down her spine, and she knew with certainty that the longer she remained in this underground lair, the more difficult it would be for her to convince Lex to let her leave. He evidently didn’t know the difference between right and wrong.

She grabbed her briefcase and walked out the front door of her cloned apartment to see if she could find Lex, and hope he would let her back into the fresh air again. Until he did so, she was technically his prisoner.

“Lex!” Lois called.

“May I call someone to pack your personal belongings?” he asked. She could see the hope on his face.

Lex didn’t even want her to leave long enough to go pack her own things. He wanted her to remain here with him forever, not to say goodbye to her family and friends, just to disappear, as Clark would have if someone hadn’t found him floating in the harbor. Lex really was the Voyeur, and she was his doll. She wouldn’t be surprised if an investigation of that copycat apartment didn’t reveal hidden microphones and cameras in there as well.

“I can’t stay here,” she told him. It was making her claustrophobic just being inside that room.

“What do you have up there to go back to?” he asked, moving towards her. “You aren’t close to your family. The Daily Planet will be gone when the asteroid strikes, so probably will be Metropolis. You’ll be alone, if you survive at all.” He lifted up a hand and brushed a hand over her hair.

“I’m not alone,” she rebutted forcefully. “I’ll have my friends and…” my freedom.

“Friends?” Lex inquired. “Perry? How long do you think a man with his health problems will last in a post-apocalyptic world, Lois? That gofer who hangs around you?” he scoffed. “Or do you mean Clark Kent?” His usually smooth voice had a menacing edge to it.

“Yes, Clark and I are friends,” Lois said stiffly. She had never denied it. It would be unlike her to do so now. “He doesn’t have anyone and would be alone without me.”

“I heard he walked out on you,” Lex said.

Lex Luthor knew Clark was missing. The Daily Planet hadn't reported it. Wolfe insisting on forty-eight hour grace period meant she hadn't filed an official police report yet. How had Lex known Clark had disappeared, unless he had been instrumental in making it happen? A shudder passed through her. She doubted any of the reporters at LNN had been spying on her for Luthor. None of them was smart enough to accomplish that feat. She was thankful that she and Clark decided to stand in the crowd to watch the Asgard Rocket launch that afternoon instead of up in the press area.

“I’m sure Clark’ll show up,” she said, trying and failing to keep the waver from her voice. “He always does. He probably got caught up in all that’s happening in the city. I’m sure he’ll show up… eventually.” She knew she was protesting too much, but she didn’t want Lex to send anyone to Clark’s apartment to double-check.

“Maybe he already skipped town.”

Her eyes widened at this admission of guilt that neither Perry nor Henderson would ever consider a concrete fact.

“Lois, mob rule isn’t a pretty sight. You don’t have to see it,” Lex continued, his patronizing words brushing over her as if a father scolding his teenage daughter.

Who in the hell did he think she was? Some delicate little flower? A helpless princess in need of a knight protector? What was it with the men in this city?

She had gone undercover with a roller derby gang, she had chased down gunrunners in a third world country during a genocide, and there wasn’t a street in Metropolis down which she was scared to head. Nevertheless, she grabbed hold of this excuse and ran with it, mostly because it was true. “I do! If what that asteroid does is destroy the world, as we know it, then I have to be there to see what takes its place. This could be the best comeback in history.”

“Yes,” he agreed with her. “Or the fastest knockout.”

“Either way, Lex, I have to see it for myself,” she insisted.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “If that’s how you feel…” he relented, showing her back to the elevator.

When they entered the wine cellar, Lois was tempted to exhale in relief, but she knew she needed to wait until she was outside of Lex Tower. Until she was free of Lex, she wasn’t truly free.

“Should you change your mind,” he said, as they entered his private parking garage. “I’m sealing the doors at one hour before impact.”

“Thanks,” she said with a nod, knowing that she would rather be roasted by the fires of hell than be locked anywhere with him.

“Would you like me to have Nigel give you a lift home?” Lex asked as they reached the lobby.

Lois shook her head. “I still have some work to do at the office. I think I’ll walk. It might be the last time I’ll be able to enjoy the night,” she said, and turned to walk out the front door of Lex Tower and into the pungent, yet sweet, air that embodied the city of Metropolis.

***

Clark sat on his sofa with his head in hands. He didn’t want to look into the bedroom where the secret compartment of Superman costumes still stood open, or at the Suit itself hanging from the top of the armoire. Well, at least, it explained why there was a Superman costume hiding under his sweaters, or did it?

Cat patted his shoulder, standing up. “Come on. Let’s go out on the patio and try to fly,” she suggested with an enthusiastic nod.

“Cat, even if what you say about me being Superman is true, I still don’t remember how to be him,” he replied. “Flying into space to stop an asteroid doesn’t exactly come naturally, does it?”

“Well, you’re from Krypton, so it might,” she said, contemplating. “Actually, you said that your father told you that you’d have powers here on Earth that you didn’t have on Krypton, because of our yellow sun, so maybe it doesn’t.”

“My father?” He pointed towards the telephone. Clark had tried calling the Kents back to apologize for the way the call ended, but the circuits were overloaded again. No surprise after the Asgard Rocket had missed. “Jonathan Kent?”

Cat shook her head. “Nah, your birth father back on Krypton.”

“Oh.” Clark didn’t have any memories of him either.

“We can’t just sit around and wait for your memories to return, Clark,” she reminded him. “We’ve got to try something, anything, whether you like it or not, Earth needs you more than it ever has. You’re the only one who can save us.”

At least, she wasn’t piling on the pressure.

“Any great ideas?” he asked.

“I could push you off the balcony,” Cat said. “Maybe instinct will kick in.”

“Or maybe I’ll be really hurt. I was in the hospital just this morning, don’t forget,” Clark replied.

“You’re healing quickly, you’ve got your strength back … you…” she said, and her voice faded. Even she knew she was grasping at straws. “Come on, into the kitchen.”

Clark stood up and followed her.

She turned on his gas stove. “Put your hand on the fire.”

He looked at her skeptically. “Do I have to?”

“Do you have a bat? I could hit you in the head,” Cat retorted, grabbing his hand and pulling it over to the burner. “We’re just seeing your tolerance for heat, okay?”

Clark jerked his arm free and rolled up his sleeve. If he were Superman, he might be fireproof, but his clothes certainly weren’t. Hesitantly, his hand hovered over the flame. It was warm, but not uncomfortable. He lowered it, and then some more. So far, so good.

Cat took hold of his arm and pushed his hand into the open flame.

He jumped back in alarm.

“Are you burnt?” she asked, her apologetic eyes searching his.

Clark glanced down at his hand. It slowly started showing signs of redness, puffiness, and swelling.

“Blow on it,” she recommended.

Gently, he blew on his hand. It turned blue with frost. “What the…?” he gasped, staring at his frozen hand.

“Hmmmm. Stretch your fingers and get the blood circulating again,” Cat said, moving his hand back over the warmth of the burner.

Clark flexed his fingers and broke the icy layer that covered it, causing a sizzling sound as the melted water dripped into the flame. “Um… Cat? What was that?”

“Cooling breath. You can freeze stuff with your breath,” she said as if it were something that happened to everyone. Her attention was focused on his hand and as soon as the ice was gone, she moved it away from the flame to examine it. “Look!”

He glanced down at his palm. The redness and swelling were gone. His hand looked as it had before the accidental burning. “Where’s the wound?” he asked.

“You healed, nitwit,” Cat said, turning off the burner. “And you keep saying you aren’t super. Ha! So, you’re not a hundred percent yet, then. You can still get hurt. That’s not good.”

That seemed obvious to him, even if he could heal himself in less than a minute. If he went into space or someone shot him in this state, he could die. Since kissing Lois earlier, dying wasn’t an option he wanted for his future.

“I don’t understand it. Your abilities are coming back, but haphazardly. Do you remember anything, anything at all about the Kryptonite you came in contact with?” she asked, returning to the living room.

He shook his head, and then admitted, “I don’t even know what it looks like.”

“Oh, right. Um… um…” Cat said, searching her memory. “Green! Right, you said it was green rock, crystal…” She pointed at him. “Looks like a geode, only from space.” She snapped her fingers. “And it glows!”

Clark tried not to look cynical. “You’ve seen it?”

She shook her head. “No. Some anti-Superman whackjob you ran into in Smallville exposed you to it. Apparently, the Kents’ neighbors had found a big chunk of the stuff and Trask wanted to take it from them to kill you. I don’t really know the particulars. I was in Paris at the time,” she said.

“Trask?” Clark echoed. That name seemed familiar. “Martha Kent mentioned a Trask and something about a plane?” His and Lois’s first kiss to be exact.

“That’s right,” Cat said with a happy sigh. “Ah, good times.”

“Huh?”

“Trask found you and Lois digging through his old space-junk warehouse and took you two up into his plane in hopes of luring Superman out of hiding by throwing one of you out of it,” she explained.

Good times?

“But I’m Superman?” Clark said. No point in denying it now. It wasn’t as if Joe-Schmoe Earthling could freeze his own hand.

“Nobody knows that, Clark. That was the whole point in stealing young baby Kent’s identity. So, Superman can have a private life,” she said. “If Superman dates Lois publicly, it would be tabloid heaven. Trust me; I’m a gossip columnist. We don’t give a flying fig if Clark Kent dates her.”

“Lois doesn’t know?” he asked.

“I know, and the Kents know, that’s it,” Cat replied.

“So, I should really tell her,” Clark said with a nod.

Cat appeared doubtful. “This may not be the right time. You should wait until you’re running on full steam again, honeybuns,” she recommended, tapping her forehead. “There had to be a reason you haven’t told her yet, and you never told me what it was. You keep your relationship with Lois very close to the vest, for good cause, and with the exception of an occasional whine of ‘Lois will never love me’ you don’t spill the dirt.” She didn’t seem happy about that.

“I don’t whine,” he corrected. Oh, please tell me I haven’t done that.

Cat gazed at him with an easily readable ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ expression. “‘Oh, Cat, I love her sooooo much.’” She sighed over-dramatically. “‘Lois is soooo beautiful. Why won’t she talk to me? Forgive me? Love me? It’s always Superman this, or Superman that. Why can’t she see me? We’re soul mates, Lois and I. We’re supposed to be together,’” she mocked him, before sticking a finger to her mouth and sticking out her tongue as she pretended to gag.

“I’m not that bad,” Clark insisted.

Cat stood back up. “Let’s get you out of those clothes and into the Suit. Maybe that will help you remember. Tactile memories or something.”

The phone rang. He glanced over at it and then back at Cat. Jimmy had told him not to answer the phone.

She groaned with a roll of her eyes and picked it up. “I don’t see the point. Why would some killer call you up on the phone? You’re supposed to be dead,” she pointed out, before speaking into the receiver. “Now, go get undressed. Hello?”

“Cat!” Lois growled loud enough for him to hear. “What the hell are you doing there?”

Of course, Superman is supposed to have good hearing too, isn’t he? Cat pulled the phone away from her ear, so he guessed it was Lois’s voice more than his hearing.

“I’m trying to help Clark remember,” Cat retorted. “How’s Luthor? Are you all ready to forgive him and get back together?”

“What?” Clark gasped, sitting up.

Lois had dated Lex Luthor? Was that why the man had called? Was that why she hadn’t wanted to call him back? He buried his head in his hands again. Moreover, Clark had insisted she call him back. No wonder she had looked at him oddly when he had suggested that. Wait. Lois had dumped the third richest man in the world for him? Things could be worse.

Clark recalled their interrupted kisses and held out his hand for the phone.

“Stuff it out your ear, Grant. Where’s Jimmy?” Lois asked.

Cat shrugged, ignoring Clark’s outstretched hand. “Hell, if I know. Upset stomach or something, I gather. He left just as I got here.”

“I’m going to wring his…”

“Please, give me the phone,” Clark insisted, holding out his hand.

“Fine by me,” Cat said, tossing him the phone. “I didn’t want to talk to Miss Prissy Pants anyway.”

“Lois,” Clark said into the phone. “How was your meeting? Learn anything?”

“Nothing on the record or printable. What’s she doing there?” Lois snapped.

“She’s trying to help me remember who I am,” he said, defending Cat. “She has some unorthodox techniques, but I…”

“What has she been doing to you?” Lois roared.

“Come on, Clark. Tell Lois you’ll see her in the morning,” Cat called from the bedroom. “Get off the phone, so we can get cracking on phase two.”

Clark shushed her.

“Phase two? What’s that? No!” Lois hollered in his ear before he could figure out how to explain it. “Don’t tell me, and whatever you do, don’t listen to her, Clark! Remember, she’s just your friend and I’m your… your… the one you kiss. You better be fully clothed when I get there, or so help me God…” The phone disconnected with a reverberating slam.

Clark had a strange feeling he knew why Henderson had called her Mad Dog.

***End of Part 94***

Part 95

Phew! Lois made it out. I may be but that was not the direction this story needed to go at this point and time. Comments ?