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

Where we left off in As the Cape Flaps (i.e. Part 113 of “Wrong Clark”)…

Lois glowered at him. “See. I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” she snapped, and then her voice turned soft. “But you’re my… partner, right?” This time it was her elbow, which bumped lightly into him. He knew she was doing it on purpose.

The way she said ‘partner’, Clark could tell she meant in a romantic sense. “When it’s convenient for you, yes,” he replied, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow.

“Come to my apartment,” Lois said in her pleading voice.

He hated it when she used this voice against him. It reminded him of when Lana tried to wheedle him into doing things he didn’t want to do.

“Talk to Eugene, if you still think that he’s a murderer, then you can call the police,” she said, looking up at him in that ‘I really want to kiss you’ way that she had, which made him melt. “Deal?”

“Only,” Clark said, holding up his index finger. “To stop you from spending any more time alone with a convicted killer.”

“Thanks, Clark,” she replied crinkling of her nose with that quick grin she used whenever she won. “You’re the greatest.” She gave his chest a quick pat and then turned to head back to her desk.

“Lois,” he said coolly. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

She stopped and cocked her head off to the side. “Don’t talk to you like what?”

“As if I would do anything you ask because I…” He cleared his throat. “Because you ask it. This…” He waved his index finger between them. “— is a choice that I’ve made of my own free will. I’m not powerless to act against it.”

“Of course you aren’t, Clark,” she said, and they both knew she was placating him. “I know that.”

Clark sighed as he watched her go to retrieve her briefcase.

*

Part 114

Lois spent the entire cab ride to her apartment informing Clark about Linda King’s true character, and why she would be perfectly fine with him using the woman as bait. Mostly she did this to stop him from asking more questions about the infernal watch.

Why couldn’t Lex have given her some generic watch? She wouldn’t have noticed the difference, and he still could have put a tracker in it. Oh, no. When Lex Luthor gave a woman a piece of jewelry, he was stamping his name all over her... as if it were from a Luthor line of luxury watches, which it wasn’t… officially. She remembered distinctly Clark saying before the White Orchid Ball, something about betting that Lex would hand out underwear to the homeless with his name on it to get press. The image always made her crack a smile. Damn, Clark!

Okay, true, Lex could have given her a TimeLex instead of a LoLex, and Clark probably wouldn’t have freaked out. Who was she kidding? Clark would have freaked out if Lex had given her a tissue to blow her nose. In fact, Clark hadn’t been the only one curious about her new LoLex watch.

After she had gone to S.T.A.R. Labs and had them check it out for Kryptonite, Lois had stopped by Mazik’s Jewelers. According to Mr. Mazik, the owner, the LoLex brand of watches didn’t exist, which was another reason why Clark’s reaction to it had surprised her. Mr. Mazik had said that he wished that it did exist and wanted very much to examine her watch. Lois had allowed it in order to get an estimated value for the watch. She didn’t want Perry to accuse her of bias and make her return the watch, and, thereby, mess up her undercover investigation. She would much rather wear the stupid watch than have Lex’s goon squad follow her around, or be suspicious of her co-workers. Well, other than Ralph, who deserved any suspicions thrown his direction.

Mazik told her that the watch didn’t include many of the features of luxury watches, such as gemstones, real or fake, and mother of pearl accents. It did, however, have a combination of stainless steel and silver band and white gold face with silver hands. Mazik had no idea how much such a watch would retail at if Lex Luthor decided to create a luxury line of watches, as the man could set any price on it he wanted and people would buy it merely because of his name, as demonstrated by Luthor’s TimeLex brand. Mazik estimated its value at not more than five-hundred dollars for this simple design. Actually, the jeweler had offered her that much money to sell him the watch on the spot, which to Lois meant he planned to resell it at a much higher mark-up. She turned him down.

Lois had called Mr. Mazik back after her conversation with Clark, and asked him if he had ever heard of a type of watch called ‘Rolex’. He hadn’t. She had no idea where Clark found that name, but figured it was one of those mistakes with names that must happen when one moves to a new planet.

Luckily, her dissection of Linda King’s true character kept the topic of the watch away from the table for the entire cab ride to her apartment.

Eugene Laderman was shocked to discover that not only did Lena have an airtight alibi for the night of Harrison’s death, but that Lena also thought that he was guilty. Only after Eugene told Clark that he had confessed to the crime because he had been covering for Lena, did Clark finally start to believe in Lois’s theory and have some doubts of Eugene’s guilt. Well, he started to have doubts after Lois reassured him that she hadn’t coached Eugene in his story.

The photographs Jimbo had taken of Lena Harrison with the mystery man at the Regency hotel helped sway Clark into admitting that he didn’t think that Eugene was violent or would hurt Lois. She insisted that Eugene should remain hidden at her apartment and not move to Clark’s, because they really couldn’t chance anyone seeing a wanted man out on the street.

She could tell that Eugene hated the idea that Lena had used him as fall man for the true killer, and wondered why she would ask Lois and Clark to ask him to turn himself in. Seeing no answer other than Lena not wanting the true killer caught, Eugene took his broken heart to sulk in the kitchen and left Lois and Clark alone in the living room to say goodnight.

Clark raised his hand and lightly brushed her cheek. “Did you… Do you want me to send Superman over?”

“Clark, we’ve been over this. Eugene isn’t a threat,” Lois reminded him.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry. I meant do you still want to talk to him about whatever it was you needed to speak to him privately about?”

She glanced at Eugene over her shoulder. “I do, but it’s not urgent. Anyway, this isn’t the best time or place. I’d better wait until tomorrow. Hopefully by then, we’ll find out what Lena Harrison is up to.” She squeezed Clark’s hand tenderly, and then opened her door. “Shall we meet at Harritech at nine?”

“No, I’ll stop by and pick you up here at eight-thirty,” Clark suggested with one last glance around her apartment.

Lois nudged him out the door. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you know by now that my hunches should be gold-plated?” she teased.

Yet, Clark looked at her with sorrow, or was it worry? “Don’t get cocky, Lois. We need to back up this theory with some…”

“Cold hard facts,” they both said in unison, and then smiled.

“Call me at the first sign of trouble. I’m always around somewhere, if you need me,” he insisted.

She gave him a wry look. “No, you aren’t,” she corrected. “Not even Superman could make that claim, Clark, so you better not try it.” She held on to the lapels of his jacket for a moment. “And I’ll always need you. Partners need to be equals, not a valiant knight and his damsel in distress.”

“That’s what Cat told me,” he replied, and then rocked his head back and forth. “More or less.”

Lois pushed him tenderly out into the hallway before he tried to kiss her in front of Eugene. Anyway, she hadn’t forgiven him for his ‘selling herself for a watch’ comment. “Who knew Cat had more to offer the world than sex and innuendo?” she said, shutting the door before Clark could remind her that he did.

She turned to find Eugene returning to the living room with a cup of coffee he was absently stirring with a spoon.

“I hope you weren’t too bored,” she asked.

“Huh? Oh, no. Mostly caught up on my sleep. It’s nice to sleep on a real mattress again with soft sheets and have a private bathroom,” he replied, blushing, and then cleared his throat. “Oh, um… a technician stopped by to fix the cable shortly around ten this morning.”

“Eugene,” Lois groaned, sitting down on the sofa. “I told you not to answer the phone or the door.” She could just picture the nightmare conversation she would have with her mother, if Ellen called only to have Eugene pick up the line.

“I didn’t. He just came in,” Eugene explained. “Your landlord must've let him in or lent him his keys or something. He apologized, saying that he thought you were out. I told him I was your older brother in town for a short visit, and he said he’d come back another day.”

“Uh-huh,” Lois murmured. She couldn’t picture Mr. Tracewski letting a repairman into her apartment without her prior authorization, and she certainly hadn’t ordered any cable repair or installation. That smart kid, Aymee Valdez, had pirated her all the top channels, and they were still working as of this morning when Lois had checked LNN on the latest updates regarding Eugene’s escape. “Excuse me,” she said, going into her bedroom, taking off the watch from Lex, and leaving it on her dresser. She needed to talk to her landlord, and didn’t know how sensitive a tracer Lex had put in the LoLex. Would it only be able to tell she was in her apartment building, or would he be able to discern that she had left her apartment and gone to another one?

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Tracewski claimed to have let anyone into her apartment. Mr. Tracewski added that he would never lend out his master keys to any repairman. Lois asked him to be extra vigilant for strangers dressed as repairmen in the building as there might be a burglar on the prowl. She failed to mention the wanted fugitive she had hiding out in her apartment.

Lois doubted that the repairman had been a burglar, but instead the Voyeur hard at work to set up new surveillance. She had been expecting this step from Lex, but it didn’t mean she would make it any easier for him.

***

Clark and Lois spent the next morning investigating Henry Harrison. They sent Jimmy off to tag along after Reed’s detectives following Mrs. Harrison. It was almost back to the way it was that week before the Nightfall eclipse. He and Lois were once more on a case together and everything felt right with the world, until lunch.

“Well, I’m off to the TriCrown,” Clark said, grabbing his jacket.

“But we’re right in the middle of an investigation, Clark,” Lois reminded him.

“The investigation will have to wait, Lois,” he replied, glancing down at her watch. “I have a date.”

She held up a finger in warning. “Don’t you dare mention one word about…” she said, giving him an intense look instead of finishing her demand.

“What? Laderman? You? My ordeal in the Bay? Superman? Us? What?” he asked.

“Yes, all of those. Stick to talking about the weather. Linda can’t steal that from you; although, knowing her she might try,” she said, turning to her computer. “And hold on to your wallet.”

Clark pursed his lips, not knowing if Lois really believed these claims about her former friend or if she was exaggerating. He decided to give Lois the benefit of the doubt. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t have a wallet to steal.”

Lois’s eyes widened as she leveled her gaze back on him. “Still? How have you survived without a wallet for the last couple of weeks? How are you going to pay for lunch?”

“My replacement ATM card came in the mail yesterday, so I’ll pick up some cash on the way to the TriCrown. I have my press badge if I need a photo ID anywhere. I don’t drive that often, so I really don’t use my driver’s license,” he shrugged. “If you like, I’ll pick up a new wallet after lunch.”

“Better after than before. Linda is less likely to steal a man’s plastic baggie,” Lois suggested. “And don’t forget to invite her to dinner this weekend. Seafood would be nice, since she’s bait.”

Well, at least Lois wasn’t jealous. Nope, not in the least. Clark smiled.

*

Lois was tempted to wait a half-hour, and then go up to the roof to call for Superman. It was petty, she knew, but so darn tempting. She knew she could trust Clark not to actually cheat on her with Linda, especially after what Lois had told him about the woman, but it still stung that he had arranged the date in the first place. She would have to make do with the satisfaction that Clark was using Linda to make her jealous in this scenario.

She wondered why Clark hadn’t gone to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get a replacement driver’s license for the one that was stolen or lost at sea. Well, other than the obvious reason that most people likened a visit to the DMV to worse than torture. Then she remembered that he hadn’t known about the real Clark Kent’s birth certificate until the Kents had offered it to him. Where had he gotten his driver’s license from, then? Had it been a forgery? She had examined it, and it had looked real to her.

Lois picked up and dialed her phone, and was slightly surprised to find Inspector Henderson at his desk.

“Hi, Ms. Lane. What information may I not provide to you today?” he asked.

“I have a question about those floaters that Clark and I have been investigating since last fall,” Lois said, ignoring his ever-present attitude. “Were any of them found with their wallets on their person? Or was it just Clark who lost his?”

“How did I guess it was another question about your partner’s case? I’m beginning to think you don’t care about me anymore, Lane.”

“This isn’t about Clark. It’s about finding a connection between his abduction and the other murders,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” Henderson replied, clearly not believing her. “It’s really a non-entity, Lane. Half the victims were found with their wallets, the other half without.”

“Well, that’s unhelpful,” Lois grumbled.

“Always a pleasure to be of service,” Henderson said, hanging up.

She disconnected the call with her finger and still dangled the handset in her fingers, debating whether to place the other call or not, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rita pause uncertainly by her desk.

“Yes?” Lois asked, hanging up the receiver.

“Um… I was wondering… uh… if you had anything you wanted me to research, Ms. Lane,” Rita said, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

“Why?”

“If I’m busy doing research, I’ll be too busy to retrieve the Chief’s dry-cleaning, and it’s Wednesday… dry-cleaning day,” Rita replied.

“Paying one’s dues isn’t as much fun as it looks,” Lois agreed, leaning back in her chair and remembering that time of her life well. She didn’t want to give this woman anything to research that would get back to Lex third hand. If Lois wanted Lex to have any information about investigations going on at the Planet, she would provide them herself. Nevertheless, she felt bad. What if she was wrong about Rita and the woman was just trying to make a name for herself in the news business? Lois should be willing to teach the next generation as Perry had been willing to assist her. “Yes. I want you to go down to the stacks and research all you can on Linda King’s stories at the Metropolis Star. She hasn’t been there long, so there shouldn’t be all that many of them.”

Rita looked at Lois skeptically. “You want me to search the Met Star for articles by a certain reporter? Why?”

“Because I asked you to,” Lois replied, raising an eyebrow.

Rita looked down in embarrassment. “No, I meant, what should I be looking for?”

“Exactly,” Lois said, standing up and grabbing her briefcase. “See what you can find. I’m off to lunch.”

Rita stared at her in confusion. “Such as?”

Perhaps Rita wasn’t cut out for the news business after all. “I don’t know, Rita, use your imagination. Are there any coincidences, red flags, anything? Knowing Linda, there shouldn’t be any reason she should be getting as many scoops as she has been lately, unless…” Lois paused as something tickled her mind. It almost felt like a memory, which was weird. How could one have a memory of the future? She shook her head. “And see what you can find out about the Metropolitan Hotel fire from Monday.”

“Wasn’t that one of Mr. Kent’s Superman rescue stories?” Rita asked.

Lois crossed her arms and stared at the young researcher.

“Yes, Ms. Lane. I’m going,” Rita said, hurrying off.

Sadly, Rita was no Jimmy Olsen… either of them, which made her an even more likely candidate as a possible mole for Lex.

***

Lois wasn’t quite sure why she had picked the diner down the street from the TriCrown Restaurant. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with Clark and Linda’s date. No, sirree, it didn’t. The Big Apricot Diner was famous in Metropolis for its… its… uh… pies! Yes, they had very good pies. She would make sure she ordered one at the end of her meal.

Unfortunately, before Lois could order dessert the sounds of multiple sirens prompted her to run. She threw a ten onto the table and bolted for the door. She arrived a few minutes later at the hotel, where the TriCrown Restaurant just also happened to be located. Lois saw Linda interviewing the Fire Captain in charge of the scene and Clark disappearing around the corner and into the stairwell.

“Cable broke in the elevator. The car’s dangling from the seventy-fifth floor,” the Fire Captain replied.

Lois dipped her hand into her briefcase and pulled out her camera, readying for a shot of Superman.

“Clark?” Linda looked around for her lunch date, and saw Lois standing behind her. “What are you doing here? Spying on my date?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Lois replied.

The firefighters pried open the elevator doors and the echoing sound of breaking metal escaped out at them.

“Watch out!” yelled the Fire Captain, pushing back reporters and onlookers. “The cable broke.”

As if on cue, Superman arrived to jump through the open doors and carry the car and its family of passengers to safety.

“Superman!” a woman in the crowd cheered, as everyone applauded.

Lois snapped her photos, and then raced outside to catch a cab back to the Daily Planet. She’d add Clark’s byline to her article when he arrived with his usual Superman quotes.

***

“What do you mean you ‘didn’t get a quote’?” Lois screamed at Clark.

“Superman left before I had a chance,” Clark said smoothly. “I hear you were there, Lois. Why didn’t you get a quote?”

“Because I was hurrying back to the office to scoop Linda!” she replied. “You were there on a date with her. Where did you disappear off to so you couldn’t get a quote?”

“If you must know, I was talking to firefighters and building engineers, which led me to discovering something that’ll make you happy,” he said, pulling a piece of elevator cable out of his pocket.

She stared at the cable. “Okay, I see it. When do I get happy?”

Clark stood up and approached Lois at the coffee machine. “This is an elevator cable. I found it in the shaft after the accident. Check out the end,” he said, pointing.

“I don’t feel happy, but I am closing in on bored,” she said, looking at the cable.

“It’s not frayed, Lois. It’s smooth, like it’s been cut,” Clark explained.

“Cut?” Lois said, suddenly interested in the cable. “Then the accident wasn’t…”

“An accident,” Clark finished. “Somebody wanted the elevator to fall.”

“I knew it. I just knew it!” she swore under her breath.

“You knew it?”

“A feeling I had earlier. Rita? Rita!” she screamed for the newest researcher.

The young mousey haired woman ran up. “Yes, Ms. Lane?”

“Do you have the research for me? About Linda and the Met Star?” Lois asked.

Rita looked like a doe caught by the headlights of Lois’s semi-truck. “Not, yet. Dry-cleaning day and all.”

“Lois! Clark!” Perry called from his office, and waving them over.

Lois appeared ready to explode at their boss. She marched past a crestfallen Rita, slammed her coffee mug on her desk, causing it to slosh all over, and stomped into Perry’s office. With an apologetic smile towards Rita, Clark hurried to keep pace with Lois to make it to the office to close the door before Lois detonated. He had only gotten the door shut before she set off.

“Dry-cleaning? Dry-cleaning? Are your new suits really more important than saving the Planet, Perry? Are they? I sent Rita to do research for a major story and you made her get your dry-cleaning?” Lois hollered so loud the windows of his office shook. “I know you like to belittle your underlings, but this takes the cake!”

“Major story, Lois?” the boss said softly, tenting his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. “If memory serves me right, you sent her to snoop on Clark’s lunch date.”

“Is that why you were at the TriCrown today? To spy on me? Because you’re jealous?” Clark said, both thrilled and disturbed by this development. She was getting a bit obsessive over Linda.

“Oh, get over yourself, Kent. You can have lunch with Don King for all I care. I was lunching nearby at the Big Apricot, when I heard the sirens,” Lois informed him.

“The Big Apricot Diner? And what were you doing eating fifteen blocks from the Planet and one block from us?” Clark returned. “It seems like an awful big coincidence to me.”

“They have good pie,” Lois shot back. “And the big coincidence is that Linda King was present at two of her three most recent page one stories, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Perry said, leaning forward.

“She just happened to get coffee at the same shop that gets robbed not two minutes after she left,” she said.

“So, were you, Lois,” Clark returned.

“Yes, but I was robbed. She wasn’t. I was a victim. She was the scooping reporter,” Lois clarified. “And then she was having lunch with you where an elevator cable just happens to snap, almost killing a family of three.”

“Did we get pictures?” Perry asked.

“They’re down at the photo lab,” she replied, jerking her head in that direction.

Perry beamed. “Atta girl.”

“And Linda just happened to be covering a fashion show across the street from the Metropolitan Hotel on Monday when the fire broke out,” Clark added what Linda had told him at lunch.

“See why you want to stay away from her, Clark?” Lois announced, poking him with her index finger. “She’s a good luck magnet for herself and a bad luck magnet for everyone else.”

“I’d hire her with that kind of reputation,” Perry said. “If I could.”

“Perry! You wouldn’t?” Lois gasped. “She’s liable to burn down the Daily Planet.”

The Chief raised a consolatory hand. “If we didn’t have a hiring freeze going on at the moment.”

“Geez,” she grumbled. “How many page one Superman stories do we have to get before people realize we’re the better paper?”

“Even more, apparently,” Perry stated.

Jimmy chose that moment to knock on the Chief’s door.

Perry waved him inside.

“I got it! I got the evidence you’re looking for,” Jimmy said, holding up the videotape.

“Well, scoot! Go write up your stories. Jimmy, when you’re done showing them the videotape, I want you down at the photo lab waiting on the pictures of Superman’s elevator rescue today.”

“Really, guys? That’s great!” Jimmy said as he, Lois, and Clark headed for the VCR in the conference room. “How smooth!” There was no higher praise.

“Tell me you got a picture of Lena’s beau’s face,” Lois said, leaning back against the conference table.

“How did you know about him?” Jimmy asked.

“Jimbo.”

“What does he have to do with this?” Jimmy asked.

“I had him follow Lena last week,” Lois explained. “He took photos of her playing tongue-of-war with some guy at the Regency.”

Jimmy scowled. “Well, she still is. Now, they’ve moved to the Lexor. Why call Jimbo in when you have me?” he asked, and Clark could tell Lois had hurt his feelings.

“Because Jimbo wanted to help,” she said. “Eugene Laderman is an instructor of his at M.U.T.”

Clark was confused for a moment before he remembered what Jimbo had said the other night. Jimbo had mentioned his Luthor Foundation scholarship to go to the Metropolis University of Technology (M.U.T.). Clark wondered if Lois had set it up. Then he realized that she probably hadn’t, because Luthor seemed reluctant to shake Jimbo’s hand when they met at Cat’s ball. He glanced out the conference room window’s and over to Cat’s desk. He hadn’t seen her all day.

“Have either of you seen Cat today?” Clark asked, interrupting Jimmy’s commentary on the video of why there were more shots of other women’s legs than of Lena Harrison.

“Here’s the money shot,” Jimmy said, pointing at the television as Lena hugged a tall, raincoat and fedora hat wearing, man. Was this the same man she had met at the Regency? Lena and the man stepped onto an elevator and didn’t wait for the doors to close before locking lips. Unfortunately, the man’s face was shaded the entire time.

“So much for the grieving widow,” Lois said, shaking her head and switching off the television.

“Uh… Cat? No, but after Arthur Chow married that stripper last night…” Jimmy said, pulling a copy of the Metropolis Star out of his back pocket.

“He did what?” Clark said.

“What are you doing with that trash?” Lois snapped.

“Research. Seeing what they have that we don’t,” Jimmy said, unfolding the paper and laying it on the conference table. “Other than readers, that is.”

“It’s more like what we have that they don’t. We have well thought out stories, quality writers, the best editor in the business, and morals,” Lois replied.

Clark listened to this conversation with only half an ear. The headline on that morning’s Metropolis Star blared: Chow Marries Exotic Dancer.

Lois leaned over his shoulder to glance at the headline. “Poor Cat, and after wearing tailored suits for the man, too. She’s going to be ticked off. It’s too bad. I had her wedding gift already picked out: monogrammed stationary ‘From the desk of Mrs. Cat Chow’.”

Jimmy laughed, but Clark frowned.

“I hope she’s doing okay. First Phil, now Chow,” Clark said.

“Phil?” Jimmy asked.

Clark waved the topic aside as unimportant. He shouldn’t have said anything in front of Jimmy.

“She could always date me,” Jimmy volunteered with a sheepish grin.

“Aren’t you related?” Lois asked.

The young man’s face fell. “Say what?”

“Cousins or something?” she said, rubbing her head.

“Get out of here! Really?” Jimmy said, horrified. “Well, that’s not so bad. We’re not close cousins, or I’d know about it, right? We’re not kissing cousins, right? And it’s not like we’d be getting married or having kids or anything.”

Clark held up his hand, grimacing. “Cat’s my friend.”

“Yeah, I know, Clark, but she’s smoking hot!” Jimmy explained.

“Still cousins,” Lois repeated.

“Man, that sucks,” Jimmy grumbled, headed for the door. “I better get to the photo lab.”

“Thanks for the video, Jimmy. Hey, why weren’t Reed’s men all over this?” Lois asked.

“Two guys sitting in a car outside the hotel. Some stakeout,” Jimmy said, and then left with a wave.

“I better call Cat and see if she’s okay,” Clark said, tapping the newspaper that Jimmy had left.

“But I thought we could take this video to Eugene and see if he recognized the man,” Lois said.

“That seems excessively cruel.”

“Any crueler than sitting on death row for a murder he didn’t commit?” she asked.

“You’re right. Okay, you do that. I’m going to send the elevator cable to S.T.A.R. Labs, and then check on Cat. I’ll catch up,” he said. “How did you know that they’re cousins?”

Lois stared at him blankly. “I don’t know. I just did. Didn’t we talk recently about the probability of two people having lived in Metropolis for at least three generations being related?”

Clark shook his head, not recalling any such conversation.

“Oh, well. It’s probably for the best anyway. Do you really think Cat was emotionally involved with Chow?” Lois asked skeptically, resting her hand on Clark’s shoulder.

Clark shrugged. He doubted it, but he knew Cat must be hurting not to show up at work. “Rejection is still rejection, whether you’re emotionally involved or not.”

She nodded and patted his shoulder, ending with a small squeeze, before heading for the door. “Maybe after I talk to Eugene, we can meet up with Superman and finally get that interview.”

“We?” he asked, gazing up at her. “I thought it was private.”

“Not from you,” Lois said, and then pointed at him. “Hey, you know I don’t think we’ve ever done a joint interview with Superman before. Huh? I wonder why that is?”

She continued to look at him, and he realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “I don’t know. Ex…” He coughed. “And current…”

“Oh, right,” she scoffed. “And you wanted us all to have dinner together. Ha! I knew that was a bad idea.”

After her acceptance of Luthor’s watch, Clark didn’t know if they were still more than partners anymore. He should just come out and ask her, but not here. That night, back at her apartment, he decided. Smiling weakly, he waved as she left.

***End of Part 114***

Part 115

Thankfully, not always what Clark believes is really the truth. Comments

Timex is brand of watches owned by the Timex Group. Neither this brand or company is in any way associated with Lex Luthor; he merely borrowed their fantastic name for his brand of everyday watches, the TimeLex, in this story.