“Why are you looking at me like that?” she wondered aloud.
“I was just wondering how we met.”
I’d better get home,” she told him. “I’ll pick you up in the morning for work.”
He nodded and walked her to the door. “Good night Lois, and thank you.”
“For what?”
“For whatever it is you've done for me that makes me feel as good about you as I do.”
The amnesia seems to bring out Clark's sweet innocence, one of his best qualities.
‘Miss Lane, Lois, this is Lex Luthor,’ the machine said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that my people are doing everything in their power to locate Superman. I’m sure you agree that his loss will be a serious blow to the city, and the world… And I would be honored if you would join me at dinner tomorrow so I could share my plans for helping Metropolis deal with this tragedy. As they say, ‘Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow.’’
And you also bring out Luthor's debonaire yuckines.
“I’ll have Jimmy get copies for you,” Perry promised. “In the meantime, I’ve got an appointment for you with Doctor Maxwell Deter over at the Neuroscience Center. He’s one of the foremost experts in memory loss.”
To add to our collection of yucky men.
“I’ve met Luthor, right?” Clark asked. “About my height, slender, reddish-brown curly hair, hooded eyes, arrogant.”
It's funny, but that's not how I remember him looking. I have very few visual memories though (never ask me to describe my husband, mother, father, children--it's just too hard), so I could be wrong. I just thought his hair was straight and brown and his eyes were fine.
“I don’t know if it’s a memory or not,” he admitted. “But he kept showing up in my dreams last night. Nightmares, really. He was wearing a tuxedo and pointing a Macedonian sword at my heart saying it belonged to Alexander the Great… then he was screaming at me like he’d lost his mind, screaming ‘you are a dead man’.” He swallowed hard.
Yup. Lois should have picked up on this one.
E
