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

Where we left off last week ( Part 137 )…

Lois stopped at the photos showing Superman talking with Henderson and Tuzzolino; Cat Grant hung at his elbow. That was where Clark had been while she was having a bomb strapped to her chest. She pushed that thought and those pictures aside.

Then there were some photos of the Jimmys and Lex exiting the building. Her brow furrowed, and she went quickly through this bunch. Perhaps there was a shot of what happened to Lex after he had been checked out by the EMTs, and she could figure out to where he had disappeared.

She pulled out a photo of a baseball-capped paramedic leading Lex off to an orange and white van, and the next shot of the non-traditional ambulance doors closing with him inside. So, Lex had definitely gone off in an ambulance as Jimbo had said he had seen. In the first photo, their heads were blocking out the words on the side of the ambulance, but she could make out an S-P-E at the beginning and an N-C-E. “Chief!” she called over to her boss, snapping her fingers. “What was the name of that front for the Nazis headquarters Clark told us about? The one you sent Jimmy to check out?”

“Do you mean ‘Speedy Ambulance’…?”

“That’s the one!” she said, bringing over the photo to her boss, who met her half way. “Look who just happened to take a Speedy Ambulance from here last night and into oblivion.”

“You don’t think Lex Luthor is a Nazi, do you?” Perry said, disbelief hanging off every word.

“I hope not, but he hasn’t checked into any of the hospitals in Metropolis,” Lois told him. She thought about how Lex ran his business. He didn’t care who or what anyone was, as long as they had the skills to do the job. Additionally, she could never see him ceding power to such a group. “No, I couldn’t see him working with them. It looks like the ‘Speedy Ambulance Service’ is about to get an overhaul Mad Dog style.”

“And if he is a Nazi…?” Perry asked, setting a hand on her arm.

“It’ll be on the cover of the Daily Planet.”

“Where it belongs,” he agreed with a nod.

*

Lex Luthor leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk. He picked up the CD recorder that Asabi had given Nigel with Lex-C’s disastrous date on it and turned it over in his fingers. He now had to pretend that he had been shot. That was nothing if not damned inconvenient.

To say that his evening with Arianna had gone badly would be stating things mildly. The Revenge had worked wonders on her. Miranda really had been a genius, but, unfortunately, it was about ten years too late. Lex tossed down the CD and knocked everything, including it, off his desk. His lamp, his fancy pen set, his box of cigars, and the CD recorder all landed on the floor with a crash.

Arianna had been loving and intimate. She had begged Lex to do whatever he pleased to her, no matter what. She had even moaned with desire, instead of whimpering with fear. Arianna, of all people. It was revolting. He wanted a little fight in his woman. It was boring. He had even fallen asleep at one point and awoke to find her cuddling up to him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as she caressed his body. Arianna!

So, Lois didn’t trust him. He could tell she wanted to, but she wasn’t there yet. Apparently, she needed a little persuasion. She was worried about him though. She didn’t like the thought of him disappearing where she couldn’t find him. Deep inside Lois, Lex knew there was a part of her fighting her good sense to love him. It was time to give her permission to do what she really wanted.

Lex walked over to his wall of ancient weapons, pressed a hidden button under the lip of the display case, and watched as the door slid open into his secret office. He flicked a manacle as he passed by, listening to it clang and wondering exactly what Superman would do if he was strapped into them, unable to break free. Lex moved a hideous piece of framed art and typed in his code to his vault. The door opened silently. The inside of the lead-lined safe glowed green.

***

Part 138

Lois was finally able to reach Mrs. Cox on the phone later that morning. Lex’s personal assistant told her that Mr. Luthor was recovering nicely from his ordeal at home in his penthouse and that she would let him know that Lois had called. Lois looked at the receiver in her hand, currently issuing her a dial tone, and decided not to hold her breath.

‘Big ol’ fat chance of that happening,’ Lois thought as she hung up.

What had Lex done when she had been recovering from being shot? He had sent her bouquets and bouquets of roses. True, he had shot her, and she hadn’t shot him, but he had been at the Daily Planet because of her.

Lois didn’t feel guilty about Lex being shot. There was no reason for her to. It had been Lex’s own damn fault, trying to sneak out and save his own skin, while she had been squared away in the bathroom. But she had an investigation to work on and the story about robbers shooting the third richest man in the world wouldn’t write itself without verification of his condition. Additionally, a bouquet of ‘get well soon’ flowers was one way to get her foot in his door.

An hour later, Lois arrived at Lex Tower with a dozen peachy orange roses in hand. Not red for desire or love or paid-for sex, as she currently thought of that color of rose, but a nice generic orange. There was no way anyone could confuse orange with love or friendship. It wasn’t pink, which was really just a lighter version of red. It wasn’t yellow, because that color was just too bright and happy for Lex, or white, which felt reminiscent of either a wedding or a funeral. Orange. It was subtle and had a bit of cheerfulness to it, but not too bright as to draw attention to itself. Moreover, orange was a very male color, the color of prison jumpsuits, and one she hated outside of nature. It expressed that exact feeling she wanted to convey to Lex, only disguised, just as her undercover operation was doing.

The doormen in the lobby wouldn’t let her take the elevator straight to Lex’s apartment without buzzing up there first and getting approval.

Fine. Lois wasn’t a delivery person. She was here to see her sick friend as far as they knew. They knew Lois. She remembered both guards from previous visits; they had let her pass to his office and up to his penthouse before when she had come for her and Lex’s Thursday dinners. She hoped that Mrs. Cox didn’t answer the phone, because Lois knew that woman would refuse her entrance.

“Go on up,” the guard told her, hanging up the phone. “Top floor.”

Duh.

“I’ve been here before,” Lois grumbled as she grabbed back her ID and stuffed it back into her purse. She picked up the roses off the counter and headed for the elevators.

Nigel answered the door almost before she had a chance to ring the bell. “Ms. Lane,” he drawled in that English accent of his and ushered her into the alcove. He eyed her flowers and shot her face a momentary unreadable glance. “Mr. Luthor has been resting, but he asked that I wake him should you call. Please wait here and I’ll announce you.” He paused, and then nodded, heading down the hall to Lex’s private rooms.

Had Nigel expected her to say she didn’t want to disturb Lex? Was that why he had paused? That she should let Mr. Luthor rest and recover. Ha! That was highly unlikely; after all she went through searching Metropolis for him, just to check on his health. Some date. He hadn’t even informed her when he left as to where he was headed. Anyway, hadn’t he sent her flowers, which arrived at six in the morning after he shot her? Lois needed to see Lex for herself, and confirm he hadn’t disappeared into the night in the Speedy Ambulance.

Jimmy’s research had proved that the Speedy Ambulance Service was indeed a legitimate company, even if it was a front for the Nazis, and that it hired out ambulatory services to anyone in need. Ah, healthcare in America, available to anyone who could pay through the nose for it. The best fronts were always the legitimate ones.

Lois stood uncomfortably in the alcove for a few minutes before Nigel returned.

“Mr. Luthor has asked that you meet him in the upstairs drawing room, Ms. Lane,” he said, indicating the direction towards Lex’s private rooms.

‘Upstairs?’ Lois thought, glancing down to the living room where the White Orchid Ball had taken place and where she usually met Lex before following Nigel. This would be new territory.

The room was pale blue, floral, and definitely adorned by a professional decorator. It reminded her of that sitting room off his office that she had explored during the White Orchid Ball. Lois couldn’t imagine Lex spending any amount of time sitting in this room, either.

Lex entered wearing immaculate silk pajamas and a robe set. His left arm crossed his body in a sling. “Please let me apologize for my apparel, Lois,” he said. “I was shot last night.”

Lois was a bit surprised to see him up and about, even if still in his pajamas. “I brought you these,” she said, indicating the flowers in the glass vase she had set on a side table. It felt weird and damn uncomfortable bringing this man, well… any man, flowers.

His eyes widened with delight. “Lois, darling, these are… beautiful. I’ll be sure to take them with me when I return to my room. Doctor’s orders, plenty of bed rest.” He scowled, but he followed the expression immediately with a faux smile to cover it up.

Lois knew how he felt. Bed rest was for the really sick, those injured below the belt, and those truly immobile. Her legs had worked just fine after she was shot. Why should she remain in bed to nurse an arm injury? Really! Doctors should be forced to be confined to bed occasionally and maybe they would consider thinking outside their hospital-cornered box. She knew from firsthand experience that doctors made the worst patients.

Lex held out his right hand towards his settee. It appeared about as comfortable as the one in her apartment did.

Lois sat down, leaving some space between them. “I was worried when you disappeared last night, and then I couldn’t find you at any hospital in Metropolis,” she said.

“I directed the ambulance to bring me here and had my own doctors examine me. Whatever Mr. Kent did to me last night seemed to have done the trick. My doctors assure me I’ll be up and back at work by the middle of next week with no surgery,” Lex said, taking hold of her hand.

Lois felt like pulling her hand free and slapping his face for rubbing her nose in his positive medical forecast, but she refrained herself.

“I even have the scientists at LexLabs checking out the healing powers of citrus juice mixed with tea and gum,” he finished.

She looked at their joined hands and was curious about his sudden directness. “Lex, I…” She paused, wondering how Lex knew what was in the liquid Clark had her pour over his wounds. She had thought that Lex was passed out during that time. How had he recalled Clark’s rushed instructions about the tannin mixture? She slid her hand out of Lex’s and rose to her feet. What would Lex think when his scientists didn’t find a correlation between Clark’s witches' brew and his healed shoulder?

“There is no reason for you to apologize,” he interjected during her pause.

I haven’t nor am I planning on it.

Lois smiled weakly at him. “Middle of next week? That’s soon. It took me weeks…”

“Perhaps Mr. Kent should have remembered his healing elixir when you were shot last year,” Lex said.

She turned towards the view out the window as her lips formed into a line, wanting to remind him who exactly shot her. Clark’s healing elixir was part orange juice, part gum, part tea, and part super heat vision. She had seen Clark’s concentrative stare at Lex’s wounds as they worked to keep Lex from bleeding to death. The reason Lex hadn’t needed surgery was because Clark had already completed it. For her injury, Clark had thoughtfully left her in the hands of professional doctors who supplied her with pain medication before operating, much to her relief.

“Truthfully, my dear, I’m right-handed, and I have any number of people to do my menial tasks for me. I merely need to curtail my physical activity as my wound finishes healing. Most of my work takes place from the neck up anyway,” he said, raising his hand to indicate his head.

Was Lex implying that his work was all intellectual, and hers was more menial and manual? A part of Lois wanted to believe that Lex intended no slight, but she took it nonetheless.

“Lois,” Lex said, standing up and placing a hand on her arm. “Your injury was much worse than mine is. Of course, you required more time to heal.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

She circled away from him and back to the settee. “It doesn’t matter,” she said dismissively, forcing herself to remain on friendly terms. “I’m glad you didn’t require surgery.” It wouldn’t do her undercover assignment any good if she let her anger loose every time he insulted her. She wasn’t here to accept his backhanded flattery or become more than friends with him. She was there to worm her way into his good books, because for some reason he liked her, and she would use that camaraderie to discover where he might be keeping his Kryptonite. “I was troubled when I couldn’t find you.”

He sat back down next to her. “I’m perfectly fine,” he said. “Well, injury notwithstanding.”

“You may have seen in our afternoon edition that Superman discovered a secret Nazi plot to take over Metropolis, and possibly the country. One of their fronts was the Speedy Ambulance Service, which had whisked you away so quickly last night. I was afraid that…”

“I’m involved with them?” Lex finished her sentence with a pointed look.

“No, that… they had kidnapped you,” Lois said, lifting her gaze from her clasped hands.

His hard expression softened.

“Come on, Lex, even you know that you’re the most important man in Metropolis.” With the exception of Superman. “You’re rich and influential, and most certainly would have been a powerful foe against them. Most of Metropolis loves you for all the good you’ve done for our city. You came in and between basing many of your companies here, thus hiring a good portion of our residents, and your charitable works, which have revitalized the city, you’re personally responsible for making Metropolis what it is today. The Nazis had to have known that Metropolis would have followed your lead,” she said honestly. “You’re the type of man any criminal would want to remove before trying to seize power.” Or any hero needed to put in jail to lower her city’s crime level.

She could see him considering her words. “Was the Nazi movement involved in last night’s heist at the Daily Planet?” he asked.

“No. I doubt Fuentes would have worked willingly for the Nazi party. Anyway, he denied any association with them. It was a plain armed robbery gone bad,” Lois explained.

“And his bomb?”

“Fuentes is still in conference with his lawyer and refuses to admit or deny its existence or location unless doing so reduces his sentence. Until he does so, Superman still searches for it. He found two nuclear bombs in the Nazi bunker, but the MPD bomb squad doesn’t believe either of them had anything to do with Fuentes’s remote detonator that he had strapped to my chest last night,” she said.

“Well, it puts my heart at rest to know that the threat against you wasn’t real,” Lex said, raising his hand to her cheek, but then drawing it back before touching her. “I should have been more forthcoming with you, my dear. So, let me be so now. I tried to wait for you to come down last night, but…” He paused, lowering his voice. “Off the record…” He winked as if she were only there for the Daily Planet, instead of for herself.

She was, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I was in terrible pain,” Lex continued. “— and the paramedics recommended that I be seen by my doctors as soon as possible. I did insist that we wait until I saw Superman leave the newsroom with what I thought was the bomb to reassure myself that you were fine.” He set his hand on hers briefly. “I, too, was worried, and I do apologize for not contacting you about my condition this morning, but I was resting on doctor’s orders.”

As always, Lex had a pat answer for everything. Lois doubted that Lex was involved with the Nazis, as he was rich and powerful enough to take over the country on his own and didn’t need to align himself with the hated group. Anyway, had he been involved with the Nazis, he would have made sure that anything linking him to them would have been either shredded or vanished by this morning. If she hadn’t seen the blood oozing out of his wound the night before, and known that without Clark’s or professional treatment Lex would have died, she might have believed he had been involved in the robbery. It would’ve explained his research of the Daily Planet she had found in his files, but she refused to allow herself the luxury of such naivety.

“I understand,” Lois replied.

“I do wish that they had taken my ransom offer and let you go,” he said. “I hated that they put you through that.”

She shrugged. All in a day’s work. “It was a lot of money. It was kind of you to offer.”

“What’s it really worth? It can’t buy a blue sky or a perfect beach,” he murmured, staring into her eyes and taking hold of her hands once more. “It can’t buy brown eyes.”

Lois looked away. What kind of medicine did his doctors have him on? Miranda’s Revenge?

“I’ve come to realize, Lois, that my life could have ended last night,” he said, squeezing her hands. “If it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, Lex, we never would’ve…” Her voice caught in her throat.

He could’ve died the night before, and it was only because Clark was there, because Clark saved his life, that Lex survived. She doubted there would have been anything she, the Jimmys, or Perry could have done to stop Lex’s bleeding or get him medical attention any faster, without Clark’s help. Even knowing what she did about Lex, she couldn’t have let him bleed to death while she watched without trying to stop it. She knew neither could Clark, even though he despised the man. It just wasn’t in Clark’s nature. She wondered if Lex would have done anything had the robbers shot Clark, or Perry or the Jimmys. She doubted it.

Lex let go of her hands and stood up. “No, it’s true, Lois. Kent seems to have this unreasonable hostility towards me. I don’t know why. I have nothing but respect for him, especially now. Yet, I know for a fact that if it weren’t for your insistence that he and the others help me, you would have been buying me funerary flowers instead.”

“Lex, that’s not true,” Lois insisted. Part of the reason she continued to be friendly with Lex was to take his focus off her partner. She certainly didn’t want Lex to think of Clark in adversarial terms, or they would return to square one with Lex trying to kill Clark again. Enough failed attempts to do so and Lex would start to question Clark’s resilience. “Everyone worked together to save you.”

He smiled condescendingly at her, but didn’t speak for a minute. She could see that he was thinking about something. Then she heard him murmur to himself, “This isn’t the time.” He cleared his throat. “Lois, I would like to thank you properly for saving my life. Have dinner with me on Tuesday.”

Lois stood up. Lex was acting oddly. She didn’t know if it was his pain medication or his brush with death, but she decided to play along. “Oh, Lex, that isn’t necessary. Anyone would’ve…”

“No,” he interrupted, setting his hand on her shoulder. “You deserved to be thanked properly, and no one can do that as well as I can. Say you’ll come.”

It was just dinner, and it would give her time to check into what Lex’s involvement was with the Daily Planet beforehand. Maybe it would give her opportunity to search through other files. “Thank you, Lex, but I don’t deserve your gratitude.”

Lex brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “But you have it just the same, my dear.”

***

Lois sat in the newsroom trying to concentrate on the screen in front of her. She had thought Lex would be over his strange behavior from when she brought him flowers and, especially, over his insistence that he owed her his gratitude in saving his life, despite it having been Clark who had actually saved Lex’s life. Unfortunately, at dinner the night before, Lex had continued in that vein.

Lex had gotten the wrong impression of their friendship. She hadn’t meant to give Lex the idea that they were dating, or that she was interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with him, neither of which was true. Yet, how could she continue with her undercover assignment of learning all the treachery Lex Luthor had done in Metropolis, and possibly worldwide, by remaining only on just friendly terms with him?

Would he reveal to her the location of his Kryptonite if they were only friends? Doubtful, unless he felt that she was a like-minded kin. Knowing her friendship with Superman, would he ever unintentionally reveal the location of the Kryptonite? Again, unlikely.

If she kept pretending that she didn’t believe anything would hurt Superman, would he be more likely to show it to her, to see if she would guess what it was? More probable. He was the type to enjoy laughing at someone behind their back, or in front of their face, for their ignorance. Would he reveal it to her in an attempt to show her exactly how powerful he was? Yes, but only if she doubted to his face that he was powerful. Her speech on how important to Metropolis Lex was, from the other day, would make that ploy difficult to enact, though. Then again, knowing that Lex had Kryptonite, did she really want to focus his attention on the Man of Steel any more than he already had?

On the other hand, perhaps Lois was going about this investigation in the wrong manner. Maybe she needed to look more into his involvement with Menken, Toni Taylor and the Metros, and the plastics company he destroyed with her exposé thus doubling his market share. The one problem with that approach would be that she wouldn’t be in control of the Kryptonite once government agents seized his assets. It would also have to be a big enough scam against LexCorp investors for his assets to be seized. If she exposed some of Lex’s other underhanded business dealings, then the MPD or FBI would take over and process search warrants on his penthouse.

Would Lex even keep the Kryptonite at his apartment? It was possible that he wanted some close-by if he felt personally threatened by Superman, but why would he? Had Superman ever challenged… well, other than that time Lex shot her? Had that scared Lex enough? Possibly as he had hunted down the meteorite, even though her article claimed it to be a product of Trask’s imagination. Superman had hinted at another antagonistic relationship between him and Lex on Sunday morning, when he had stopped by the office. Or had she misinterpreted Clark’s warning?

Lois also didn’t like the thought of the police or the federal government having Kryptonite in their possession. It was bad enough that Inspector Henderson had that green and red Kryptonite watch Lex had made for her in the MPD’s evidence vault. She only hoped no one other than her suspected what it really was. It would be too easy for those Bureau 39 freaks to steal it and to attack Clark again. The whole point of this investigation was to get the Kryptonite away from anyone who might use it against him. She didn’t want to go through all of this pain and misery only to end up with nothing. She really needed to get that Kryptonite watch away from Inspector Henderson and to a more secure location. Would Henderson give it to her even if she changed her statement to tell him that it was hers after all, especially when the watch was part of his investigation of someone attempting to murder Clark?

She dropped her head into her hands. All the possibilities were starting to give her a headache. Of course, it wasn’t as if she had slept well after dinner with Lex the night before either. He had presented her with another gift, one she hadn’t ever expected.

They had been sitting outside on his balcony, enjoying a rather warm spring evening, when Lex had slid a rectangular box across the table to her. She knew instantly it was jewelry from the shape of the box.

“Lex, what’s this?” Lois had asked him.

“Yours.”

“You must stop buying me things,” she had said. “I’m not friends with you for the benefits.” Oh, God. Had she really said it like that?

That line had made him smile. If he had only known she was friends with him to bring him down for trying to kill Clark, she was sure the smile wouldn’t have been as big or smug.

“Open it,” Lex had insisted. “I promise you that I didn’t buy it.”

That had piqued her curiosity, she had to admit. She was tempted to counter with a remark about him making things for her as well, but decided she could save it until after she had opened the box. Inside was her watch. The watch her grandmother had given to her when she graduated from Met U. The watch that had been stolen during the robbery at the coffee bar, where Lois had first bumped into Linda King, a month earlier.

“Where? How? It couldn’t…” Lois had sputtered, taking the watch out of the box and examining it. It couldn’t be her watch. Lex must have made her a copy. Flipping it over, she saw that it had the engraving on the back. Truth is better than fiction. That had been something she had once said to her grandmother, when she asked why Lois wanted to be a journalist. She had never told anyone, not even in the police report, about the engraving.

It wasn’t a replica. It was her watch. She had raised her tear-filled gaze to Lex. “How did you find it? I thought this was lost forever.”

“I hired someone to look for it,” Lex had said modestly. “I knew it was important to you.”

“I don’t know what to say, Lex,” Lois had admitted, her heart both swelling with the joy of having her watch returned and shriveling at who had returned it to her. What must he have done to find it? She swallowed down her pride. “Thank you.” She unfastened the LoLex watch and placed it in the box, before putting her own silver watch back upon her wrist. She slid the LoLex watch across the table to him. “Thank you for the loan, Lex.” She felt torn, returning it to him. Part of her felt as if she were ridding herself of a terrible burden, and another part of her wanted to keep it as evidence against Lex.

He had set his hand on top of hers. “Keep it, Lois. I made it for you, and I hope that when you wear it, you’ll think of me.”

“I couldn’t keep it, Lex. It’s too much,” she stressed, speaking the truth. “I promised to return it when I found another watch.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Lex had teased, thinking it was just her journalistic ethics, which stopped her from wanting to keep it. “It will be our dirty little secret.”

The thing was whenever Lois looked at the watch she saw herself as Clark did whenever she wore it. It made her feel slimy and dirty. That, sometimes, was the price one paid to get the scoop.

In the end, she decided to keep it for one reason only… well, two reasons. Firstly, it was the only physical evidence she had that tied Lex directly to the person who was spying on her. Secondly, she could wear it whenever she met with Lex. He would then think she wore it because of her feelings for him, and she’d have the peace of mind of knowing that Cat or Clark could have her location traced should she ever disappear.

Cat blew into the newsroom and set down her purse on her desk, pulling Lois from her reverie. “Hi, Lois. How was your weekend?”

“It’s Wednesday,” Lois reminded her, as her headache doubled in intensity.

Cat pshawed that detail away. “My weekend was wonderful,” she purred. “You want to hear the details?”

“Let me guess. You and George the Neanderthal spent it dangling from the rafters,” Lois stated. “Oh, and in handcuffs.”

“Who? Oh, George. No, no, no. I wasn’t with George,” Cat replied with an embarrassed chuckle. “Gosh. I had forgotten all about him until you brought him up. Oh, and, Lois, one doesn’t dangle from the rafters with handcuffs… although… hmmmm.” She appeared to be considering the new position.

Lois rolled her eyes and tried to focus on writing up the mayor’s speech from this morning press conference about hidden Nazis and the bombs found in Metropolis over the weekend.

“And, no, I wasn’t dangling from the rafters.” Cat sighed, setting a hand on her chest in contentment. “I was in carnal heaven.”

“Lovely,” Lois stated, hoping to be spared the gory details.

Thankfully, a floral deliveryman arrived before Cat could get out another word. “Ms. Lane?” he asked Lois as he set down a bouquet of roses in the exact shade as those she had sent Lex. With the exception of a single red rose stuck in the middle, she might have thought they were the same bunch.

“Send yourself roses again, Lois?” Cat teased.

“No,” Lois sniped.

“Ms. Grant?” the deliveryman asked, turning towards Cat. “Sign here.” He set a vase with two dozen deep red roses on her desk.

“Oh la la,” Lois chortled. “You weren’t kidding about your long weekend. Red is for prostitution, isn’t it?”

“And you call yourself a reporter, Lois? Red is for love. Orange is for passion,” Cat said, signing off on the clipboard and handing it back to the deliveryman. “Although why any man could ever think that you’re passionate, I’ll never know.”

“Passion? Orange? Really? No?” Lois gaped in horror. Oh, God. What have I done?

Cat laughed. “Everyone knows that, Lois. It’s common knowledge. Red for love, yellow for friendship, orange for desire, and white is for purity.”

Crap. That certainly wasn’t the message she had wanted to send to Lex. Moreover, who would associate orange with passion? Fuchsia maybe, but orange?

Lois hesitantly opened the attached note. Miss you already. Can’t wait until sundown. Phil. Her brow furrowed. Phil? Who in the hell was Phil?

Cat opened her card and started laughing. “There’s been a little mix-up here, Lois. These ‘prostitution flowers’ are for you,” she said, holding out the card.

Lois snapped it out of her hand as she handed the other card over to Cat. With dread, she read: Love, Lex.

Double crap.

***

Clark felt as if he had spent a week underground. If he hadn’t been searching under Metropolis, then he had been under New York City, Gotham City, Washington D.C., Chicago, or Los Angeles. He had finally found two more nuclear bombs, one each in Washington D.C. and Los Angeles, where Inspector Henderson had uncovered references to them in the Nazis’ databanks. The last nuclear bomb had yet to be discovered, if it existed at all. Thankfully, Fuentes admitted that his bomb was only a ruse. Clark only hoped the man was telling the truth.

He had spent more time on the telephone with Lois this week, or relaying or accepting messages from her, than he had in person. Actually, he hadn’t spent any time with her in person. Being that she wasn’t legally allowed to leave Metropolis, Clark went himself to cover Superman’s actions around the country, on his own dime. Perry had told him to ‘screw the expenses’ and that he would find a way to cover Clark’s costs. Clark had reassured him that he would cover as much as he could on his own. He was thankful not to have to spend any money on airfare or hotel rooms in any city. While working in D.C., Superman had the assistance of the federal government and was able to discover the hidden bomb within a few hours.

In Los Angeles, the search took longer. First, he checked out the areas inhabited during the 1940s. Then he realized that the Nazis could have moved the bomb into the city more recently. Early in the week, he had been able to return to his apartment for a couple hours of sleep and to retrieve his messages, usually from Lois asking when they could meet up. It broke his heart that his work as Superman was making him renege on his promise to Lois, but he knew when he was finally able to tell her the truth that she would understand why he had been so busy. She would be angry as hell at him, but she would understand his absences.

Tuesday and Wednesday, he had spent in New York and Gotham City respectively and without a moment to sleep. Thursday night, he had spent at the Kent Farm, after searching Chicago all day. It was good to have another place to unwind from the search and a private place where he could easily lie on top of the barn to recharge his batteries in the early morning sunlight. He had spent so long underground, out of the sunlight, he needed the boost. It was late Friday night before he was thankfully returning to his own apartment in Metropolis, after finding the second bomb late that evening, Pacific time. He took a long three minute shower upon arriving home, and then crashed into bed for the first full night’s sleep he had taken all week.

In the morning, after drinking his coffee he noticed that the message light on his answering machine was blinking. He had forgotten to check messages when he had come home to clean up and shave on Wednesday night.

It was a new thing for him to check messages. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now,” he grumbled to himself as he reached for the machine. Nobody really called him in his old dimension. Lana and the Daily Planet had been his entire life until Superman, and then he had no life to call his own. Most of the phone calls he received after Tempus had outed him had been from strangers and for Superman, not Clark.

Lana had always insisted that he initiate their communication. ‘A woman should never have to call a man, unless it’s an emergency,’ she would say. ‘If he doesn’t call, he clearly isn’t interested enough to care.’

That had been the problem with that Lois from the other dimension, according to Lana; Lois had distracted Clark from his own fiancée enough that he had forgotten completely about her. He had tried to tell Lana that it wasn’t true, only she was spot on. From the moment that other Lois had kissed him, he had trouble remembering Lana’s name, let alone that they were engaged and supposed to be married in a week. The night that Lois and Superman had gone out flying, Lana had ended up, not only telephoning him, but actually dropping by Clark’s apartment. Lana had been absolutely correct and within her rights to do so. He should have kept her appraised to what he and that other Lois were doing; only thing was, he knew Lana never would have approved.

Clark had given Lana keys to his apartment to prove that he had nothing to hide from her. He had wanted her to treat his apartment, his work, and his life as hers to drop into whenever she pleased. That was how he had known that she was still interested and, at first, he had been thrilled whenever she had dropped by. Then when they had started to seriously plan their wedding, Lana would stop by to tell him to drop everything to take her to pick out invitations, to go look at flowers, to go listen to some band, or anything at all wedding related.

After they had broken up, Clark had often wondered why he had never seen it as her checking up on him, making sure he was where he said he would be, when she never allowed him to check up on her life. Lana hadn’t given him keys to her apartment, she hadn’t allowed him to drop by her work, and she always insisted that he call her before he came to her apartment or whenever anything of interest, which possibly could concern her, had happened to him.

He pressed the review messages button.

“Hi, Clark,” Lois said casually, almost too casually. “Lois here. Just checking to see if you were back from New York or was it Gotham City? Give me a call and let me know you made it back safely. Just wanted to chat with my partner. You know, mano y mano. No, wait, that would be ‘hand to hand’… uh… Oh, gosh, um… would that be hombre y amiga, being that I’m a woman? It doesn’t matter. Anyway, we haven’t really had a chance to catch up since we were held hostage. Let’s do that soon.” Two more beeps. This message had been from early Tuesday morning and from the background noise, probably made from a café on her walk to work.

Okay. Evidently, he should have remembered to check his messages when he came home late Wednesday night. He could check his messages remotely, but he usually didn’t have messages to check. He was sure that was just Lois’s not so subtle way of reminding him that he had promised to talk to her this week. Besides, he had spoken to Lois on Tuesday afternoon, while she was at work. That counted, right?

“Hi, Clark. It’s Cat,” Cat’s voice spoke over his machine, instead of her usual purr. “I know, I know, I should have called you last Saturday after the hostage thing at the Planet, but I’ve been busy, very busy.” She laughed. “You’ll never guess who I bumped into outside the Planet that night: Phil! Apparently, I was wrong about him being married. He’s missed me as much as I missed him. Anyhoooow, to make a long story short, I’ve been out of the office for half a week. They were the best sick leave days I’ve ever spent, if you know what I mean. I’ll tell you all about it when you return. Oh, wait; there was something I wanted to ask you. Damn, it’s slipped my mind again. Maybe I’ll have remembered by the time you return.” His machine beeped and announced that the message came Wednesday afternoon.

Clark smiled, happy to hear good news for a change. Cat and Phil got together while he was out of town and he missed it. Another casualty of being Superman was missing out on the important things happening in his friends’ lives. Although part of him was relieved that he hadn’t needed to get involved.

“Clark, Lois here. I’m pretty sure now that you’re not checking your messages, but I hope you are. I know that you’re busy, but we need to talk. Something is happening in one of my investigations that I need your input on, urgently. Well, not ASAP urgently, or Superman urgently, but like soon… really soon urgently. Don’t leave any messages for me about this message. Oh, I shouldn’t have even left this message, because you’ll just get freaked out and worry. Never mind. There’s nothing you can do anyway. I just need a friendly, non-judgmental ear to listen to me and off whom I can bounce ideas.”

He wondered if this had to do with her investigation with Dr. Daitch and the EPRAD computer virus, which sent him on a wild goose chase called Nightfall Major. He hoped not. Lois knew she wasn’t supposed to leave Metropolis, let alone the country. During Wednesday evening’s phone call, Lois once more hadn’t said a word about the message. Of course, if it was about EPRAD and the Nightfall virus, he already knew she was paranoid enough about it. It was so huge; she hadn’t even discussed it with Clark or Perry personally. Although, now that he had thought about it, she had asked when he would be back to Metropolis several times during that conversation. Silly him, he had only thought she missed him, not that she needed her partner.

“Clark?” Lois’s voice said as the next message started. “Drat! You still aren’t back from your trip. Oh, right, Perry said something about California. Look, if you need a place to stay while you’re in L.A., I’m sure Lucy would be happy to let you sleep on her couch, if only to save the Planet a few dollars during the latest round of expense cutbacks. Ask Superman, he knows the address. If you do this, have her give me a call. I need to talk to her.” The machine beeped and announced that the message had been from Thursday afternoon.

During their Thursday evening phone conversation, he had mentioned that Superman was off to Los Angeles in the morning, yet she had never offered Lucy’s phone number then. Not that she technically needed to, being that he was the one who had set up Lucy and Jimmy’s surprise double date for the Kerth Awards last October, he already had it. Perhaps Lois had thought he would either be home by Friday night or already had a place to stay chosen.

“Clark? If you get this message before too late, I’m just reminding you that you promised to take me out for calamari as soon as you returned to town, and I just hoped that could be tomorrow... well, yesterday, actually, but tomorrow will have to do.” It sounded as if she had signed off, but his machine didn’t signal the end of the message, just blank air. He could faintly hear her heartbeat and her breath still on the line. “Come home, please,” she whispered so softly it was almost as if she hadn’t spoken.

Beep! Beep! Beep! That message had come in shortly before he had returned home the night before, but he had been too bone tired to help with any rescues, let alone discuss his private life in detail with Lois.

Clark winced. He had promised her that he would talk to her this week, although he never said it would be over a squid dinner. He debated between spinning into his uniform and flying right over to Lois’s apartment or calling her. The telephone won out.

“Hello?” Lois said into his ear. It was the most beautiful word he had ever heard.

***End of Part 138***

Part 139

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