Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Wrong Clark (142/???)

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

A/N: The town of Aldeola, Brazil (hometown of Carlos) has been changed to Pequenópolis, which is what Smallville, KS is called in the Portuguese language Superman canon.

You can find Part 141 here.

Part 142

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One
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Clark landed in the woods outside of the town of Pequenópolis, Brazil. It had been far too long since he had come to visit Padre Carlos. He was in need of the man’s wisdom and advice more than ever before. Besides, he had this strange feeling that Martha would slap him in the back of his head if he returned to Smallville still without having spoken to Lois.

He walked into town and headed straight for the church, where the bells were announcing the beginning of the four o’clock mass. Clark saw shopkeepers closing up stores and rushing to join friends and loved ones, as it seemed the whole town filed into the church. He entered with everyone else and sat towards the rear of the church.

Up front, he could see the children of the orphanage, filling the first several pews on the right side, and the town dignitaries, the rich and politically motivated, filling the first few pews on the left. The nun, who had been assisting Carlos with his teaching duties that first time Clark had visited, sat beside the children. Her arm surrounded a young weeping child, who was not more than six.

The service began and Padre Jacó, the old priest who had tricked Clark into buying pastéis for the entire orphanage, slowly approached the pulpit and said in Portuguese, his voice rough with emotion as he lowered his head, “I thank you all for coming today for this prayer vigil for Padre Carlos. I’m sorry to announce that his condition is unchanged. Let us bow our heads.”

Clark’s head popped up in alarm. Prayer vigil for Padre Carlos? He stretched out with all of his senses, but could not find Carlos in the town of Pequenópolis at all. What had happened to him? Clark listened to everyone murmuring their prayers, but heard nothing specific except hope that Carlos would be all right.

After a minute, Padre Jacó spoke again. “God in heaven, we beseech you to take Padre Carlos into your heart and heal his wounds. Selfish though our request may be, we still need Padre Carlos here on Earth to continue your good works. Please, do not take our friend yet into your kingdom.”

Clark bowed his head, adding his prayers to everyone else’s. He, too, had been selfish. He had used Padre Carlos as a sounding board and for advice, time and again, and yet had never volunteered to assist him with his activities as the Jaguar. Then again, the man hadn’t asked for his assistance either. Was it due to his vigilantism that Carlos had ended up at death’s door? Clark wouldn’t be surprised. It was a dangerous profession, and if Clark weren’t invulnerable, he would have died a thousand fold by now. He was surprised that man in Gotham City was still alive. Carlos had lost his powers upon dying at Tempus’s hand, but not his desire to help the less fortunate.

Padre Carlos was a better man than he.

Towards the end of the service, baskets were sent around to collect money to assist in Padre Carlos’s medical fund. Since Clark hadn’t taken time to exchange any funds from dollars into Brazilian real, he reached into his front jeans pocket and removed the folded bundle of dollars there to set inside the basket. He would make sure to direct funds from the Superman Foundation to Pequenópolis when he returned to Metropolis.

Clark waited until all the parishioners had left before approaching Padre Jacó.

“Ah, my generous friend,” the old man said, greeting Clark with handshake. “You have come because you have heard about our trouble, no?”

Clark shook his head. “I came to visit Padre Carlos. I hadn’t heard of his accident.”

“This was no accident!” Jacó exclaimed, raising his fist. “Some men came into the church, asserting that we knew where the mythical Jaguar was. Carlos tried to stop them when they stole our alms for the poor box, claiming it was their fee for keeping Pequenópolis crime free. He was alone and there were three of them. They insisted that he, of all people, knew where this Jaguar man was hiding.” He shook his head. “I heard the commotion from my room and came as quickly as I could…” The old man raised his hand holding his cane. “But, alas, I was not fast enough.” He cleared his throat and they walked back down the main aisle of the church, pausing midway to the altar. “They said that they had followed the Jaguar to the forest outside of Pequenópolis, and that he must be hiding in the town, somewhere. They tried to beat his location out of Carlos, but since he does not know this Jaguar man, he could not tell them anything, even to save his own life. When they saw me, they ran from the church yelling that they would be back to get the Jaguar and shooting their guns into the air. I found Carlos here,” he murmured, looking down at the floor, which was stained darker than the surrounding area. “When they hurt Carlos, they hurt our entire village. He… he’s been badly injured.”

“I’m so sorry. Padre Carlos is a good man,” Clark said, his heart wrenching for his friend. “Where is he now?”

“Hospital in Manaus,” Jacó replied, mentioning the name of the large city nearby. “You must write a story for your newspaper about this horrendous crime. Carlos was able to tell me what happened before he passed out.” He pressed his lips together to stop the emotions from escaping as a lone tear dripped down his cheek. “He… he hasn’t woken up in the three days since the attack.” Jacó covered his mouth with his hand. “Sinto muito. Desculpe. I must pray.” He hurried away from Clark and out a side door.

Clark knelt down and set his hand on the stained floor. He closed his eyes, apologizing to Carlos for not being there when his friend needed him. Upon opening his eyes, he tilted down his glasses and scanned the floor and nearby pews for clues, finding none. It had been three days since Carlos had been hurt and countless numbers of people had been in the church since then.

After returning to the woods, Clark spun into his Suit and flew to Manaus. Before landing, he flew over the densely populated heart of the Amazon. It wasn’t a huge city, being about a tenth the size of Metropolis, roughly the same size as Kansas City, Wichita, and Topeka combined. He chose a hospital in the center of the city, zipping down into an alley several blocks away to land and change back into Clark.

He visited two more hospitals before finding the correct one.

Carlos was in the hospital’s intensive care unit. A quick x-ray told Clark that the man had suffered internal bleeding, several broken ribs, a cracked wrist, a skull fracture, and a dislocated kneecap, amongst his other less serious injuries. If he were Carlos, he might not want to wake up either.

Clark snuck past the nurses and knelt down between Carlos’s bed and the far wall, away from the medical staff’s prying eyes. He felt as if he had let this former Clark down on so many levels. Not only could he not give Carlos back his former life with Lois, Clark also would never be able to protect Lois properly in his stead. He took Carlos’s non-injured hand into his and rested his head on the mattress as he thought over what he could have done to prevent this from happening.

“I’m so sorry, Carlos,” Clark whispered in English. If only there had been a way for him to share his powers with another, he couldn’t think of a better candidate. “The whole world needs Superman, not just Metropolis. I failed you.”

He recalled their last conversation. Carlos had wanted him to give a vow of abstinence before marriage. Even with the curse looming over him, Clark hadn’t been able to do it.

“God, if you let Carlos live, I give you my word, I’ll save myself for…” Clark murmured as his words faded into a grimace. With Lois as good as engaged to Luthor, his words felt like an empty promise. How would he ever make love again, if it couldn’t be to Lois? Anyway, Carlos’s life deserved a much better a trade than that.

Clark only wished he had more he could give.

If only there was a way that Clark could trade his life for Carlos’s, then the world, this dimension at least, would be right again.

***

Lex leaned back in his office chair, puffed on his cigar, and exhaled with contentment. His relationship with Lois couldn’t be progressing better. Well, other than the fact that she hadn’t yet accepted his proposal. On the other hand, he hadn’t asked again either. She had wanted space to think about it, so he was giving her space. From watching her at home this afternoon, he knew she wanted nothing more than to be the next Mrs. Luthor. Let her grow restless for a few days in her anxiety that he might not offer again. Perhaps he should be too busy to take her or return her calls over the next few days.

He lifted up the keyboard of his computer, which had the link to the secret surveillance of Lois, and removed the photos the investigator had brought to their meeting that afternoon. He had been a nondescript man in a brown jacket. He was the perfect specimen to blend in with the man on the street, or the hobo on the street from his smell.

Nigel had waved him forward. “What do you have for us?”

“Uh… I… I mean, Ms. Lane showed up at the hotdog stand by the Centennial Carousel as expected… well, ten minutes after the hour, actually,” the man had said, checking his notebook. “She met with Mr. Kent and they walked through the park to the backgammon tables.” The man had cleared his throat. “Once they stopped walking, I was able to get close enough to hear what they were saying without revealing myself.” He had handed over the first photograph of Kent on bended knee. “Mr. Kent proposed, and Ms. Lane rejected him. Actually, they were both seriously upset by the action.” He had handed Lex another photo.

This one was a side view of Kent lifting up his glasses and obscuring his eyes as Lois scowled at him. Lex looked at it again and beamed. Kent actually looked as if he were crying.

“Unfortunately, a lawn mower came into the area at time, and I wasn’t able to catch any more of their conversation, except…” the man had continued, stopping only to flip through his notes. “Ms. Lane exclaimed, ‘How haven’t you lied to me, Clark?’ Apparently, Mr. Kent has been lying to Ms. Lane for some time now, and she was confronting him about it. It appears that it was the reason… uh… one of the reasons behind her rejection of his offer.” The man had shuffled his feet and appeared uncomfortable under Nigel’s glare. “Anyway, Ms. Lane spent the next five minutes yelling at Mr. Kent before marching off in a huff.” The next photo he had given Lex was of Kent positively morose on the bench with Lois striding away from him.

As Lex looked at that photo of Kent alone on the bench again, his spirits rose even higher. Tearing Kent down was more satisfying than killing the man. Death was so final, while torture brought Lex repeated enjoyment. He dropped the photos on his desk and took another puff of his cigar.

He knew that Kent hated him for shooting Lois, his words to the Lex-Clone on the CD recording after he was shot had proved that much, but to counter-propose to Lois? That was clearly the actions of a desperate man. Kent must really hate Lex if he was willing to propose marriage to a woman he didn’t love. Did that nobody Kent actually think that Lois would choose him over Lex? After dumping Lois for Cat Grant, Kent couldn’t possibly expect Lois ever to consider him seriously. Lex knew that Lois had a problem with men who cheated, due to her father’s roving eye. It was why he had never given Lois any reason to doubt he was anything but loyal to her. In any case, from what the investigator said and despite what Lois had once told him, it appeared as if Kent still hadn’t told Lois the mystery surrounding his non-existent past. To be honest, the not-knowing was a thorn in Lex’s side as well.

Kent couldn’t be FBI or any other undercover law enforcement officer being that none of his prints were on record. Anyway, the feds were usually better at planting fake identities for their operatives. Had a mistake been made? Why would the feds have an operative working undercover at the Daily Planet, anyway? Either way, he decided he should have Nigel do another background check on the man to see if any of the information had changed. Not that the man mattered any longer, but Lex hated to leave any uncut strings dangling.

The investigator had proceeded to tell Lex that Lois had gone on to the Daily Planet after her meeting with Kent and yet left hardly ten minutes later. Lex picked up the photos again and looked at the last photo. An intense Lois stormed out of the Daily Planet while holding onto her nameplate. She had never looked sexier.

Earlier that night at dinner, Lois had told him that she would love to work behind the scenes at LNN, despite Lex’s reassurances that she was beautiful enough for on-camera reporting. She had even told Lex flat-out that she didn’t want any assistance from him at all getting a job with his news network.

Lex grinned, blowing smoke up in waves. Women were always telling him the opposite of what they wanted from him. There was nothing more exciting than a woman screaming ‘no’ and fighting him when they had sex, pretending she didn’t want him. It was all part of the game. With some women, take Mrs. Cox for example; he had to get more and more creative, before she whimpered or cried. Mrs. Cox though was never one to tell him ‘no’. Should a woman get hurt during their fun... well, that was what he paid Asabi and Nigel good money to deal with, either with compensation or disappearances. It was amazing how much silence increments of ten grand bought.

Therefore, Lex would pass word to LNN’s president that Ms. Lane should be interviewed rigorously before being hired to work in their Metropolis news office. Her responsibilities would then be exponentially lowered upon the announcement of their engagement up until a week prior to their wedding, when she would be given a paid leave of absence from which she would never return. As wife to Lex Luthor, she would be too valuable to be exposed to the potential harm that a reporter might encounter. Anyway, she would be too busy with her other wifely duties to bother about returning to work.

He remembered Lois’s earlier words of affection, which she had spoken to him when she thought that he had hung up after making their date for this evening. The surge of excitement, which had passed through Lex upon hearing Lois say that she loved him, was so great that he needed to call Mrs. Cox out of a meeting to distract his mind and body from it. True, Lois hadn’t repeated that sentiment at dinner that night, but that didn’t matter. He had it on tape to watch and listen to whenever he pleased. In fact, it pleased him to do so at that moment.

Lex spun around in his chair and flipped on the monitor, rewinding the surveillance recordings at Lois’s apartment to that afternoon during their conversation.

“How about you come to the penthouse for dinner and we can talk about what you want your future to look like?” Lex could hear himself say to Lois.

“I’d like that, Lex,” Lois replied, her voice as sultry as he remembered it.

Lex watched as she turned towards her window and stiffened.

“I’ll see you at seven then,” Lex heard his own voice again.

Lois lowered the receiver as she raised her hand towards the window in a fitful gesture.

“No! Wait!” she called, her voice fading with each word. “I… love… you!” She hung up the phone. Lex could hear her softly weep as her fingers, her whole hand, and then her forehead touched the window. “I love you.”

Lex’s brow furrowed as his teeth ground into his cigar. He rewound the footage. There! For an instant, in the distance, he could see something… or someone else outside of Lois’s window. He rewound the image again and pushed another button to move to another angle. There, clearly, outside the window, Lex could see the horrorstricken face of Superman, plainly eavesdropping on their phone conversation. That thing was stalking Lois!

Lois’s hand came to window as the Man of Steel turned away. “No! Wait!” she called to superhero, who had already departed. “I… love… you!” Her head rested against the window, next to her hand. “I love you,”she repeated at a whisper through her soft tears.

The burning end of Lex’s cigar dropped into his lap. He brushed it away and spit the other end, still in his mouth, into the trash.

Therefore, it wasn’t to him Lois had said her endearments, but to Superman. He should have known he had won too easily.

To Superman! Lex slammed his fist down on his desk. Always Superman!

Lois still loved that flying menace.

Moreover, by the expression on Superman’s face, he still loved her. Superman had given Lois up, had rejected her, but that didn’t stop the heart from craving what the heart wanted.

If that was the way they wanted to play it, then so be it. Lex would make Lois love him, even if he had to wait for their wedding night. Lex would force Lois to cry out his name in pleasure, in stereo surround sound if need be, and he would make sure that Superman had a front row seat for the show, even if it was the last thing either of them ever experienced.

***

Lois parked her Jeep in the lot down the street from her gym. She pulled her workout bag out of the backseat and walked into her dojo.

She knew Lex had someone following her. She recognized a man across the street from her apartment this morning as one she had seen the day before at the park. Apparently, the tracer on her LoLex watch wasn’t enough for Lex, now that he had proposed. She hadn’t even agreed to marry the bucket of slime yet, and he was already trying to control every aspect of her life. He didn’t trust her. Fine by her. She didn’t trust him either, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.

Clark may be trying to control her as well, but at least he was doing it from a place of love. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe. She had no idea what Lex’s problem was.

In the gym’s locker room, she went over to the wall phone near the door. She typed in a phone number. “Hi, I need a cab to pick me up at Haratchi Dojo in ten minutes, please,” she told the person who answered before giving the address.

Moving over to her locker, she spun the combination of her lock before pulling out a bright pink gym bag from inside. She removed a couple of pairs of socks, a skintight leotard in leopard print, bright pink tights, and a pair of silver tennis shoes. Normally, she wouldn’t allow herself to be caught dead in such an outfit, but this wasn’t normal times and she wasn’t going to be caught dead in the outfit either, unless the man tailing her recognized her and turned her over to Lex. After she had put on the leggings and leotard, and stuffed the socks at the bottom of her bra to give her more bounce, she removed a blonde wig, a pair of sunglasses, a spray bottle full of water, and a bottle of water out of her gym bag.

Lois pulled her almost shoulder-length bob into a bun and then pinned the wig in place. Spritzing her neck, arms, and legs with the spray bottle, she made it appear as if she were damp with sweat. Then she returned the spray bottle to the pink gym bag. She folded up her karate gi she had been wearing when she had entered the dojo and set it inside the navy and grey gym bag she had brought with her. She then put the navy and grey bag into her locker and spun the lock, before wrapping a towel around her neck and picking up the water bottle and the pink gym bag. She took a long swig from the bottle, allowing some of the water to drip down the front of her leotard. With one final look in the mirror and a shake of her new blonde locks, she walked out to the street.

She saw the Metro cab she had requested turn the corner and she raised her hand to flag it down. It wasn’t until she was inside the cab that she gave them the address fifteen blocks away and only halfway to her final destination.

A little over a half-hour later, she had the second cab pull up to a corner and handed him the fare before stepping out. She was still wearing the blonde wig and sunglasses, but had added a skirt to cover up her leotard. Lois knew better than to attract too much attention to herself in this neighborhood. Louie would never forgive her.

Inside the billiard hall, a man with a dragon tattoo creeping up his neck sidled up to her. “Hey, there.”

“Hey, there, yourself,” Lois responded. “I’m here to see Louie.”

The man placed his hand on her butt and squeezed. “You don’t need Louie. You need a man built for speed.”

Lois had to agree with that statement. She pulled his hand off her body, gave it a slight twist, so that it ended up between his shoulder blades. “Even you are too slow for the likes me, tiger. Go tell Louie that Steffi Graf’s here to see him.” She gave him a slight push into a pool table, letting go of his hand.

The man shook off his hand and looked at Lois with a new bit of respect before heading into the back room. He returned a couple minutes later. “He said to go on back, Steffi.”

“Thanks, Dragon,” Lois sang with a hip wiggle and headed back to Louie.

The man grabbed her arm as she passed and insisted, “I’m not Dragon.”

Lois looked him up and down as if she knew what he was talking about. “You sure aren’t.”

She found Louie sitting on his sofa in his office chowing down on what was left of a hoagie sandwich. He smirked when she entered. “Steffi, huh? I’d say you’re more in Martina’s league.”

“Hey, give Steffi her due,” Lois countered. “She won at Wimbledon last year and I see even more great things in her future.”

“Uh-huh,” Louie said, clearly not believing her. “How’d those documents for your partner work out for you? I saw that you and he caught Carpenter for being a bad onion, so the Met Star must’ve bought the background we built.”

Lois shrugged innocently. “It didn’t hurt. Do you have my spare bag?”

“But you look so good as a blonde, Lois,” he said with a chuckle, nodding towards a black gym bag in the corner. “Right where you left it, kid.”

“Thanks,” Lois said, glancing behind her to make sure the door was shut and they were alone before she sat down at the table. “Louie, I need some information, good solid information and my sources are running dry. Word on the street is that Lex Luthor’s a bad apple and I need someone to tell me why he has that reputation. Do you think your friends could russle me up someone willing to talk to me?”

Louie shifted in his seat as he considered her request. “Well, I’m not surprised about your sources going mum. There’s not many people in town who’d speak badly about Luthor. I’m betting your sources are running scared by your request. Some of the guys have been talking. They say that you and he have been hanging out a lot lately, kid,” he said, looking at her with fatherly disapproval. “Luthor is the kind of man I would strongly discourage my daughter from meeting, let alone dating, Lois.”

She leaned forward. “Why?”

“I’ve heard things,” Louie replied vaguely.

“What kind of things?”

“The kind of things which tell me you’re in deeper than you know if you don’t know them. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, but if you were my daughter, I’d tell you to get out, Lois. Get out, now,” he recommended, taking a bite of his sandwich. “I know some guys who know some guys who might help you.”

Lois shook her head. “I can’t do that.” She wasn’t a quitter. She needed to see this through to the very end. She needed to save Clark, whether he wanted her to or not. Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean that they ‘might’ help me?”

“Luthor’s not the only shark in this ocean, kid. He’s made enemies,” Louie explained, and held up his hands. “I don’t want to be counted as one of them.”

That didn’t surprise her. Lex could count her and Clark on that list.

“I need details. If I’m going to bring him down, it’s got to be with facts, not ghost stories,” she said.

Louie polished off his sandwich and dusted off his hands. “I know lots of guys. Some of them talk when they shouldn’t. Some of them have disappeared after they’ve told a story or two or six,” he said with a shrug. “But maybe they went on holiday or relocated themselves.”

“Or perhaps someone else relocated them?” Lois interjected.

“As I said, I know people who know people. I hear stories. Nothing concrete,” he said. “No facts.” He looked her in the eye. “Knowing facts can get a guy killed around here.”

She wasn’t quite sure if the ‘guy’ in question was her or him.

“Louie,” Lois said. “About a month ago, a coffee bar down the street from the Planet was held up by four guys. They only stole jewelry, not cash, and then disappeared.”

“Yeah. I remember reading about that in the Metropolis Star,” Louie said with a nod.

Lois gritted her teeth. Linda. “Do you think you could find out who those guys were and…” She took a deep breath and went with her gut. “Whether they’re still alive?”

Louie raised an eyebrow. “You think Luthor was behind the robbery? That’s a bit small potatoes for him.”

“No, this is follow-up on Carpenter,” Lois lied. “Clark and I believe he was behind the robbery. I’ll come back and see what you’ve found out in a few days.”

“It’s not safe for you to be seen in my joint any more, Steffi,” Louie went on, looking her up and down. “You draw attention. Attention attracts questions. When there are questions, someone wants answers. With answers come consequences.”

Lois nodded. She understood. “I need someone I can trust. Someone who will always be honest with me. Someone loyal,” she said. Louie had always been all those things for her. He couldn’t abandon her now when she needed him most. She had lost all of her support structure already on this investigation.

“What about that handsome partner of yours?” Louie unknowingly prodded her most sensitive wound.

She cleared her throat. “He’s on the outside, Louie.”

“Straight arrow type, huh?”

Straight as they come. “It’s not safe for me to go near him,” Lois said, glancing down at her hands clinched in her lap.

It wasn’t safe for him, and it wasn’t safe for her. Being near Clark was too much of a temptation. She knew that from the previous day in the park. Sure, she was furiously mad at him for proving that he didn’t trust her by being a bonehead jealous idiot, but she still loved him. Lois missed Clark, and every minute they were apart she felt was a minute of her life she would never get back. She craved his touch, his thousand-watt smile, his contagious laugh, and his gentle reassurances that he would always be there for her. She wanted to feel his lips on hers with every cell in her body. She knew if she could teach him not to treat her as such a china doll, he could be an asset to her life… bringing more good than bad to it. Unfortunately, that was a big ‘if’. She would be lucky if he ever talked to her again.

Lois also knew that if Clark had played his cards right the day before, instead of betting on a pair of aces, she could have easily exposed her feelings for him in a way that would have jeopardized her entire investigation. Lex’s proposal had left her shaken and vulnerable in a way she had never felt before. That was why Clark should have taken her to Smallville when she told him that they needed to talk. Actually, that was why he should have told her the truth about himself months ago.

That man she saw outside her apartment this morning was the same man she saw while near the carousel, and that was too much of a coincidence in her books. If he had overheard any of their conversation, it could have been very bad for her and even worse for Clark. If Clark had listened to her, supported her despite her having gone both behind his back and under his nose on this investigation, and talked to her about her options going forward, she could have easily fallen into Clark’s passionate embrace as had happened during their meetings on the sly.

Perhaps they were lucky that Clark had proposed in the manner than he had. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have rejected him so resoundingly and Lex would’ve moved Clark back upon his ‘persons of interest’ list. Thankfully, Lex acted his normal self last night at dinner, as if nothing had changed.

Lois wasn’t sure how long she could stand this cheerful side of Lex, though. There were only so many creepy smiles she could take. It was bad enough that every time he touched her, she consciously had to stop herself from slugging him.

“So, you need someone to act as go-between, between you and your partner?” Louie asked, bringing her back to the present. “Someone invisible? A runner, a gopher, perhaps. Someone not known to you or Luthor.”

She raised her gaze to smile at Louie. That would be wonderful. “Thanks for the offer, Louie. It’s not safe right now for us to communicate,” she whispered, indicating her disguise.

Louie held up his hands again. “Hey, that wasn’t an offer, just a suggestion. I may know lots of guys, but I don’t know anyone who would risk their neck by going behind Luthor’s back.”

“Why?”

He gave her a ‘you’re kidding’ expression. “Including me, kid.” He waved a finger between them. “Just so you know, this conversation didn’t happen.”

Terrific. A whole lot of nothing. “Thanks again, Louie. I understand.” Lois stood up and retrieved her black gym bag from the corner.

“But I’ve heard of a guy who knows what’s happening on the street, and he doesn’t have much love for Luthor. He might be willing to talk for a price. He’s a bit odd and his price is steep because he’s hungry. I’ll put out feelers and see if he’s interested,” Louie said. “If he is, I’ll have him contact you at the Daily Planet.”

Lois shook her head. “Deep undercover, Louie,” she said, once more pointing to her blonde wig. “You can’t tell anyone I’m looking for information on Luthor. Tell this guy I’m looking for information on…” She considered who else about whom she needed information. “Mrs. Cox, Luthor’s assistant. If that pans out, I’ll see what else he can get me. I’m hoping to get a temporary job over at LNN until I can bust this wide open.”

Louie blanched. “Hey, kid, I’ll help you out every once and a while with a freebie, due to that backhand of yours, but nobody… and I mean nobody will go into barracuda central.”

“I’m not asking him to. We’ll have to find someplace neutral,” Lois said, reaching up to unpin the wig from her head. She looked down at it after she pulled it from her head, and bet she must’ve looked like that nasty A.D.A. Mayson Drake in this getup. She smiled. “I know exactly where he’ll be able to find me.”

***

A woman with short spiky blonde hair, ala Annie Lennox, wearing a black sweatshirt and track pants, looked both ways before slipping through the blue door at 344 Clinton Ave. She climbed the stairs until she stopped at the door of the top most apartment. There was a stack of Daily Planet newspapers sitting on the front stoop.

She glanced around again before knocking on the door.

No response.

She knocked again, murmuring, “Come on. Open up, Chuck. It’s me.”

Still no response.

From out of the front pocket of her backpack, she removed a beige note. She kissed the front of it and slid it between the layers of the Daily Planets.

Quietly, she stole back down the stairs and out onto the street. Several blocks later, she climbed onto a bus, dropped exact change into the meter, and accepted her transfer.

Less than twenty minutes later, she walked through the front door of the Haratchi Dojo.

***End of Part 142***

Part 143

A/N: For those of you who don't know Steffi Graf and Martina Navratilova were big tennis stars in the early to mid 1990s.

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