Yipes! This story is starting to run away from me.
), there might not be a part next week. Now I feel kinda mean leaving things like...well...I'm sorry.
And since I'm already rambling on here, I might as well throw a quick thank you to TEEEJ and Diane for all their help. I
really appreciate
it.
from Part 7...
“I give up! You hear me? I’ve had enough!”
But no one heard him. Holding back the tears was useless, so he gave up on that too, and let them fall freely down his face.
He wished someone, something, *anything*, would take the pain away. Everyone thought Superman was invulnerable. Hah! He closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the world, praying that the pain worse than kryptonite would just go away. Part 8 Lois was at his door…Clark’s door…at eight in the morning. Just like usual.
“You ready?” she asked, obviously chipper now that they’d cleared the air between them.
He envied her, but he pasted a smile on his face and hoped his voice sounded at least half as chipper. “Yep.” He grabbed his coat and locked the door behind them.
Once they were in the jeep and on their way, she asked another chirpy question, “So, did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” he lied. He was just an actor in life’s cruel play - he might as well be good at something. “You?”
“Yeah, thanks. So, I figured we could do a little more digging on Mindy Church today.”
“Sure. There’s not much else going on. We have to find *something* to write.” He was playing a reporter. He liked investigating.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“Hey, I never told you…” Act excited. This is exciting. “I found a couple places, warehouses I think, that might be worth taking a look at. They’re supposed to be abandoned, but there’s been some late night activity lately at these locations. Could be Intergang.” Okay, that was a little exciting. Unfortunately, that meant stakeout. In a car, all night, with Lois. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle it though. He could.
He was an actor. Actors didn’t cry unless it was on cue. They didn’t kiss anyone either, unless the script called for it. And this script *definitely* didn't. Not while the two lead characters were alone.
“That’s great, Clark! So, you think we should pick one from the list and stake it out tonight?”
Yep. Stakeout. But this was fun. Acting. *Real* investigating. “Yeah. We can see who’s there and what they’re up to.”
“Ooh, good, this’ll be fun! I haven’t been on a stakeout in forever. It’ll be just like…”
Her chipper tone fell flat for the first time that morning and she trailed off. Just like old times. That’s what she meant to say. Like with Clark. *Her* Clark. But that was okay. He was an actor, playing the part of her Clark. Only, he’d have to step out of character for a moment to cheer her up. “I’ve never been on a real stakeout before. It *will* be fun, Lois.” He gave her what he hoped was a meaningful and sympathetic look. She seemed to compose herself.
Looked like she was doing a bit of acting herself. Good. Then he wasn’t alone. He just had to remind himself that this was strictly a PG movie. Maybe PG-13 if the bad guys got a little rough, but definitely PG.
“Yeah. It will.” She paused for a moment. “You’ve really never been on a stakeout before?”
“Nope. Think about it, Lois. When would I have to?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She smiled a bit.
Good. They were both happy. He could slip back into character now. This was a happy movie. A comedy. Yeah. Funny was the word for it. Hilarious. He hoped the fates were having fun with their little game. H.G. Wells was probably their head honcho. Despicable little man, meddling in other people’s lives. If Clark ever saw him again, he’d drop him off of the tallest building in Metropolis. He’d catch him, of course, but Wells wouldn’t know that. The thought made him smile. Happy. That’s right, he was supposed to be happy.
***
Clark seemed mighty chipper this morning. A little on edge even, like he’d had too much coffee. Not that caffeine would affect Clark, but still, he was a bit jittery. She tried her best to act cheerful too. He didn’t need to know the kind of night she’d had last night. He didn’t need to know that she’d cried herself to sleep. Again. Or that she’d woken up a little stiff, face down on her journal, and had reread the poem she'd written. She’d never really written a poem before, but that one had just flowed out of her. “But you’re not here.” The poem said it all. At least she had the excuse of her pregnancy hormones when it came to her emotions being out of whack. Clark didn’t need to know the *real* agony she was enduring. He had enough heartache to handle on his own.
Though he certainly didn’t seem that way this morning. Maybe it was because they’d cleared up their misunderstanding. Or maybe he was excited about the story. Despite everything else, she couldn’t help but be a little excited too. A real story. A real lead. A real investigation. Mindy Church had better watch out. It wasn’t just Mad Dog Lane after her, it was Mad Dog Lane on hormones. She almost laughed aloud at herself. But it was true. Not to mention she had a personal stake in this one. The little harpy had tried to kill Clark. They’d never been able to prove her guilt in that matter, but Lois knew it *had* to be her. And now, if Mindy was trying to take advantage of Clark’s absence…whoo boy!
The sight of the Planet coming into view suspended her thoughts. Lois opted for the parking garage today – it looked a little stormy out. She and Clark made their way up to the newsroom in a blissfully companionable silence. She glanced at the clock as they walked down the ramp into the bullpen. They had a little time to go over their plan for tonight before the staff meeting.
She set her stuff down at her desk and Clark did likewise at his desk before he came back to stand by her. She wanted to see the list of warehouses he had. They could start there and pick one. Do a little background first, figure out who owned it, etcetera. Clark stood mutely beside her. “Well, lay it on me, Clark.”
He smiled at her and to her horror, he moved into kiss her. His lips met hers briefly, passionately, and then they were gone. What the heck!? She’d meant the list of warehouses. She was aware of some of their coworkers staring. Quickly, she schooled her surprised look into one of delight. She looked at Clark. Though he was smiling, she could tell he was horrified that he’d misinterpreted her. Um…shoot. Think quick, Lane! “Honey, why don’t we get our notes and move to one of the conference rooms?”
He only nodded, still smiling dumbly, but he did grab his file folder and follow her to one of the conference rooms. She was glad the blinds were already shut, she didn’t want the rest of the office to see Clark’s face right about now, nor did she need to fuel the gossip fires with an obvious need for privacy.
Clark barely waited until the door was shut. “Oh, God, Lois, I’m sorry. I thought you meant…well everyone thought we were fighting yesterday and well…” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Clark.” She waited until he looked at her. “It’s okay, Clark. In fact, it was a good idea, really. I just wasn’t expecting it. You’re fine. We’re fine. Remember? Now at least the entire staff knows we’re not fighting anymore.”
Her smile was contagious and he seemed to relax. He even chuckled a bit and the corners of his mouth twitched. “So, what did you really want me to lay on you?”
She let out a small laugh. “The list of warehouses,” she smiled. And then she started giggling. They both did. After a few moments, the laughter died away and with it went the tension she was sure they’d *both* been feeling.
***
Clark smiled at his ‘fiancé’ as she sat down next to him for the staff meeting. He was sure if he thought about it, last night’s emotions would spring back readily, but he didn’t. He was on a little high right now. He wasn't sure if the feeling was from his excitement towards his first ever stakeout or the fact that the tension between him and Lois seemed to have dissolved. Whatever it was, he was grateful that it had put a genuine smile on his face.
Perry stepped into the room and cleared his throat. “Good morning, everyone.”
A chorus of, "good morning, Chief's," and, "good morning, Perry's," followed.
“Well, good news is, Lane and Kent here are no longer fighting.” He gave them both a look that said while he minded the slight disruption in his newsroom, he was nonetheless happy to see that they were back to normal. A few chuckles arose from the other staffers before Perry continued, “Bad news is, there *is* no news. Someone *please* tell me there was some murder or mayhem last night. Anything.”
The editor was obviously disgruntled by the lack of news. Clark took that as his cue to speak up. “Well, Chief, Lois and I did find a few loose leads that someone might be trying to start up Intergang again now that it looks like Superman’s not coming back.”
He felt Lois flinch next to him. Shoot. He hadn’t meant it like that. He’d meant that was what Mindy Church thought, not him. Crap. He’d have to amend that later, at least to Lois. Meanwhile, he waited for Perry’s reaction. The editor was staring at him oddly, almost indignant and aggrieved at the same time. But the look was fleeting and Perry cleared his throat. “Good, Clark…uh…you’ll have to give me the details later, in my office.”
Clark’s mind raced as to what that look was supposed to have meant. He vaguely heard Perry assigning mundane stories to the rest of the staff, but his mind was on the editor’s stare and the touch of emotion Clark had heard slip from Perry’s voice. He glanced at Lois, wondering if she’d noticed it too, if she’d found it odd or disconcerting. But she was trying to look busy, scribbling on her notepad. Great. He was oh for two today already and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.
***
Lois sat quietly at her desk after the staff meeting. She’d sent Clark to his desk to get a little background on the warehouse they’d chosen for tonight, assuring him that she was fine. But she could tell by the frequent and anxious looks he kept casting her way that he wasn’t convinced. She’d try later to assuage his guilt over his comment, but for now, she needed a little space. She’d be fine. Really.
She knew Clark hadn’t meant to sound so blunt about Superman’s absence. He’d only meant to convey what the criminal element was thinking. But it brought up a valid point. If the criminal element thought that Superman wasn’t coming back, what did the rest of the world think? What should *she* think?
Was four months so long that people could start believing that Superman wasn’t coming back? Sure, she’d been agonizing over just that belief last night, but her case was different. Wasn’t it? She was the one missing him more than anyone else. Did it look that hopeless to the rest of the world? Should she be having the same thought? And what then? What on Earth did she do then?
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wrestle with that subject because Clark had just approached her desk with a printout. He eyed her cautiously as he settled himself into the chair opposite hers.
“So…” he started carefully, obviously not sure of her emotional state. Well, she wasn’t sure either, but she gave him a nod and a weak smile, encouraging him to continue.
“The first warehouse is on Fourth and Euclid, owned by a Gruffs Incorporated. They specialize mostly in antiquities – import and export – but this warehouse that they own isn’t the one they’ve been using. It was the old building and they’ve since moved to a newer one. I’m having Jimmy find out who the corporate execs are, see if we can link any of them to Mindy Church.”
“Good. Then we’ll see tonight if antiquities are really what they’re dealing in.”
He nodded, clearly still weary of her feelings, though it appeared he was trying to be optimistic about tonight too.
She sighed. “So, what do you say we look up some information on the other warehouses now, just in case tonight proves to be nothing.”
“Sure. I was thinking…”
Perry’s gruff voice interrupted him from across the newsroom. “Clark, can I see you in my office?”
***
tbc…
