From part 12...
"Ooh, this sounds like a story I can't wait to hear. Tomorrow," she clarified, pointing authoritatively at Lois's now-open apartment door. "For now, get to bed. That's an order."
Lois straightened up and did her best to look prim and proper. "Yes, ma'am," she responded with a smile. Agnes disappeared with a wink back into her own apartment, and Lois shook her head as she went into hers. In some respects, it was definitely good to be home.
She flicked on her apartment lights and carried her luggage into her living room where she dumped them unceremoniously onto the floor. Then she slipped her notebook out of her attache and headed for her desktop computer in the corner of the living room. She was exhausted, but she wanted to write up the interview that Clark had given her in the airport while it was still fresh in her mind. She could edit and tighten it up in the morning, and then give it final go-through later Sunday. Jim wasn't expecting it until Monday, so maybe she could even catch up a little bit on her sleep.
At the thought of sleep, a yawn forced its way out, but she did her best to smother it. Sleep could wait another hour. Right now, she had a story to write.
**********
Now on to part 13...
**********
Clark dried the last of his dishes and put the mug away in the cupboard with the others. The chore done, he glanced around at his clean kitchen. Not only was it absent of the remnants of his breakfast with Lois that morning, but it was also absent of her.
He sighed. She'd only been gone a matter of hours, but it seemed like much more than that. His apartment seemed empty without her.
Ever since she'd told him in the airport that she couldn't write the story, the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. His secret was going to remain just that. A secret. It was a secret to one less person, but somehow, he was glad that one person knew. Unexpectedly, his world felt less lonely.
His heart started to beat uncontrollably as he thought about their goodbye kiss at the airport. A broad grin flashed across his face at the memory. He'd kissed women before, but this.... It had been simply spectacular. The only thing he could have wanted more from her was...well, more. The last three days hadn't been easy--in fact, they had been three of the most stressful days of his life. But they were also three of the most wonderful he'd ever had. For the longest time he felt that something had been missing from his life, but now he suspected he may have found it...found it unexpectedly in the form of Lois Lane.
The phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts and made him jump. He glanced quickly at the clock. Could it be Lois? He hadn't asked her to call when she arrived home, but he'd been hoping she would. With shaking hands, he tossed the damp dish towel onto the counter and hurried over to grab the cordless phone from where it sat on the table. He clicked the 'on' button and lifted the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Clark. You haven't left yet."
When he heard his mother's voice, his excitement faded. He reminded himself it was probably too early, anyway, that Lois shouldn't be back in San Francisco yet.
Trying to muster some of his earlier enthusiasm, he responded, "Hi, Mom."
"You sound disappointed. Were you expecting someone else?"
Clark smiled. He should have known he couldn't fool her. Nothing got past his mom. "Not really. What's up?"
"You're still planning on coming over for dinner tonight, aren't you?"
"I was just about to leave, actually," Clark told her, glancing up at the clock once again. "I was kind of hoping to hear from someone before I left, but I guess I'm not going to tonight. Did you need me to bring anything?" he hurried to add, hoping she wouldn't ask him who he was hoping to hear from.
Either she didn't pick up on his comment, or decided to give him his privacy because she didn't comment. "Just bring yourself. The roast is ready to come out of the oven, so we can eat any time."
"Then I'll be right there."
"Great," his mom exclaimed happily. "See you in a minute."
It was only a few minutes later when Clark landed on his parents' front porch and opened the front door. He heard his dad's voice call out from the family room.
"Clark?"
"Yeah, Dad, it's me." He walked toward the sound of his dad's voice and met him in the kitchen. His dad beamed when he saw him, and he hurried over to hug him.
"Good to see you, son," he said, still smiling as he stepped back. "It's been a few days. How's the hero business?"
Just then Martha bustled into the kitchen and hugged Clark, too. "Jonathon, give him a second to settle in. He just got here."
Clark laughed at his parents' fussing. "It's okay, mom. Actually, the hero business is good. Busy, but good." He took the large bowl of mashed potatoes his mom handed him and carried them to the table. "There were aspects of this hero thing that I didn't consider, so that's been kind of an adjustment."
His dad sat down in a chair at the table and raised his eyebrows curiously. "Like?"
"Like trying to keep up with both my job and the hero bit. I think Perry and Jimmy think I'm scatterbrained lately with all the weird excuses I've had to make to get away to help someone."
"Your not letting your responsibilities at the Planet slip, are you?" his mother asked. "I know saving lives is important, but I'd hate to see you lose the job you worked so hard for."
Clark hurried over to help his mom take the roast out of the oven and shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's just a little trickier than I expected. Then there's the constant presence of the media everywhere I go. It's kind of embarrassing, actually."
"Well, your big news, son," his dad put in. "You didn't expect them to lose interest so soon after your debut, did you? Especially since you are a reporter, I would think you'd know first hand what is considered big news."
"Yeah, I know, and I guess it is big news...I just didn't expect it to be so intense."
"Speaking of intense..." Martha put a slice of roast on each of their plates and then looked pointedly at Clark. "What ever came of that Lois Lane reporter? The last time we talked she was insulting your journalism skills and making you feel threatened. Did she finally go back to San Francisco?"
At the memory of Lois getting on the plane that morning, his heart fell. He kept his eyes averted as he nodded. "She left this morning."
Martha's eyebrows lifted above the rims of her glasses. "And? There's not going to be an expose about you splashed across the headlines anytime soon?"
Clark shook his head. "No, no expose."
"Good!" Jonathon exclaimed. "I had to admit, I was worried for you there for a while."
"Me too." Martha breathed an obvious sigh of relief as she sat down in her chair and started to pass around the bowls of food. "Though I can imagine it was probably a blow to her confidence to go home without the story."
Clark's heart skipped a beat at his mother's implication, and he reached out stiffly to take the bowl of fresh garden peas she passed him. "Well, she didn't exactly go home empty handed," he admitted quietly.
"Oh?" his dad ventured, looking up from putting a helping of potatoes on his plate. "What do you mean?"
Clark swallowed. Did he tell them what had happened? Or did he keep it to himself? His parents had always been a part of his life; he shared everything with them. It was hard not to. They were the only ones who knew everything about him. Until now.
Before he realized he'd made up his mind, the words tumbled from his mouth. "I gave her a story because we started to become friends, and then she found out I was the hero she was looking for in disguise, and she threatened to write the whole story, but then we talked a really long time at my apartment, and I finally convinced her to keep everything a secret, then I went with her to the airport and kissed her and she gave me her phone number, and then I gave her a kind of interview so she would have a story to bring back to her editor so she wouldn't be going home empty handed."
Clark's words finally rambled to a close and he cringed. Lois had definitely rubbed off on him.
When silence hung heavily in the air around him, Clark looked up and was surprised to see his mom and dad staring at him, their eyes wide with shock. The next thing to break the silence was the sound of his dad's fork clattering to his plate.
Looking away, Clark quickly busied himself by spooning handful after handful of peas onto his plate. Neither of his parents said anything for almost a full minute. His mom managed to regain her composure first.
"Would you care to run that by us again?"
Clark looked up at her and smiled sheepishly. "Which part?"
"All of it," she suggested, her expression showing how shell-shocked she still was at his announcement.
"She found out about your disguise?" his dad interjected with concern. "And then you told her everything? Are you sure that was smart?"
"What else was I going to do, Dad?" Clark looked down at his heaping plate full of peas and started to spoon most of them back into the bowl. "She already knew who I was. The only thing I could think of to stop her was to tell her everything. And it worked. I was able to convince her how much was at stake and she decided not to write the story."
"And you believe her that she won't rush off and do it now that she's back in San Francisco and you're here in Metropolis?"
"Yeah, Dad, I do."
It was quiet for a moment as his parents let this piece of information digest, but then his dad nodded his head and picked his fork back up off his plate. Trying to keep his tone supportive, he said, "I guess you know what you're doing, son. I hope you do, anyway."
"Jonathon, if he says he trusts her, we should believe him." Martha spoke up, a scolding note in her voice. "Clark's always been a good judge of character. What I want to know more about is how Clark feels about this woman," she said, changing the subject and looking over at Clark with a mischievous smile. "In that ramble I thought I heard something about kissing her at the airport?"
Clark felt his cheeks grow hot. Had he really said that? If he had, it must have slipped out unintentionally. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, umm, I guess I did. Kiss her at the airport, I mean." He stared down at the food on his plate and made a lake in the center of his mashed potatoes like he used to when he was a kid.
His mom persisted. "So, how do you feel about her? You said something about becoming good friends?"
He nodded, feeling both his parents' eyes on him. He took a bite of his roast to stall for time. How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened between them in the last three days? He'd never been an impulsive person, and he was worried that's exactly what they would say he was being.
"At first I thought she was this cold, ruthless person who didn't care about anything except getting her story," he began cautiously. "But I was wrong. She turned out to be completely different than I expected."
He looked up at his parents, half expecting them to contradict him, but they were simply listening attentively. When his mother nodded encouragingly, Clark relaxed a little. "I found out pretty quickly that the cold, hard attitude she'd had that first day we talked was just a tough act. She's worked hard to get where she is, and knows that if she comes across as anything but tough, she'll get walked all over. Once you get past that, you learn how amazing she really is."
As Clark continued to talk, his voice picked up speed, his feelings for her fueling his enthusiasm. "I brought her to my apartment and we looked through the notes I have for a story I'm working on, and I was impressed at her insight. She thinks my investigation might tie into one she did not long ago, so we're going to keep in touch and compare notes. Maybe a big story will come from it." He smiled and paused to shake his head as he thought of the unethical--and often illegal--means with which she'd obtained evidence in the past. "I don't exactly agree with all her methods of investigation, but there's no denying she's brilliant at what she does."
"And you said she was beautiful." Martha smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously when his eyes darted up to hers.
Clark looked up in surprise. "I did?"
"Don't you remember?" Martha urged. "You said so the day we talked on the phone about her."
Clark thought for a moment. "I forgot about that."
"I didn't," she said, her mischievous grin growing. "I suspected then if there might be something starting."
"Why didn't you say something, then?" he asked, ignoring his dad's knowing chuckle as he looked at each of them.
Martha covered her mouth as the start of her own laughter slipped out. "What were we going to say, honey? That we thought there was more to the whole encounter than you were admitting? You would have gotten all defensive and maybe even avoided her just to prove us wrong. That wouldn't have been what we wanted. We want for you to be happy, and if Lois makes you happy, then we're happy."
Clark sighed and set his fork down on his plate. "You make it sound like we're together or something."
"Aren't you?" he dad chimed in.
He shook his head and stared out the kitchen window at the darkness setting in. He found himself wondering how long it would be before it was dark in San Francisco. "No, not really. We have each other's phone numbers and we plan to talk soon, but to be honest, I don't know where we go from here. I think about her constantly, especially now that she's gone. I know I've only known her for three days, but everything feels different since I met her. My life feels different...*I* feel different." He tore his gaze away from the window and looked instead at his plate. He picked his fork back up and stirred his now cold mashed potatoes. "In fact," he continued haltingly, "I think I'm falling in love with her."
When he finally felt brave enough to look back up at his parents, he was startled to see that neither of them looked surprised. "Did you hear what I just said?" he asked.
They nodded, and his mom reached over to squeeze his forearm. "We did, honey, but it's not exactly news. It was clear how you felt when you started talking about her. My question is, what are you going to do about it?"
This time it was Clark's turn to be surprised. "What do you mean?"
"You said you didn't know where you and Lois were going to go from here," his mom pointed out. "Well, you're going to have to do better than that. Long distance relationships are hard, but you have an advantage. You can fly there to see her faster than I could dial the phone. I hope you're planning to take advantage of that."
His dad chuckled. "It would definitely be the most convenient long-distance relationship in history."
Martha smiled at her husband, then turned back to Clark. "He's right, you know. If you really want this to work out, you two need to find ways to be together. Fly out there to see her, or better yet, fly her out here. We're going to want to meet her."
When Jonathon nodded in agreement, Clark shook his head. "I don't even know if things are going to work out between us. Like I said, we've only known each other three days. I'd like for it to, but to be honest, I have no idea. I know that a long distance relationship wouldn't really be an issue, but I keep thinking about all the other things that might be an issue."
"Like?" his dad prompted.
"Like how busy our lives our," Clark explained with frustration. "She's busy with her job in San Francisco, and I'm still trying to find a way to keep up with my life *and* the new hero thing I imposed upon myself. How are we supposed to find time to get to know each other when we're living such busy and completely separate lives? And what happens if we're together somewhere and I keep getting sidetracked by hero stuff? How's she going to react to all that when she realizes there are going to be three people in this relationship instead of two?" He sighed heavily and shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe all this is just fate's way of telling us we're not meant to be together."
Martha reached over and placed a hand on his arm. "Clark, no relationship that's worth having is ever easy. If you want it to work out, you'll both find a way. And just for the record, I don't agree fate is trying to keep you apart. In fact, I think it's quite the opposite."
Clark and his dad both looked at Martha strangely. "How do you figure that?" Clark asked curiously.
"Well, how else would you explain everything that's happened these last few days if it weren't for fate?" his mom suggested. "I don't think it's a coincidence that Lois came all the way across the country to investigate you, the hero, and then stumbled upon your secret just as you were beginning to be good friends." She shook her head. "No, if anything, fate's trying to get you two together. And she's doing a pretty good job of it if you ask me."
Jonathon chuckled and looked over at Clark, his eyes twinkling. "Your mother's a hopeless romantic."
Martha glared at her husband playfully. "So what if I am? I'd like to think there's been a reason to all of this, that somebody special has finally been brought into our son's life. Of anybody I know, he deserves it the most."
Clark thought about that as the topic turned to other things. He wanted to believe his mother was right, that it wasn't a coincidence that Lois had found her way into his life. He'd been forced to live in a kind of shell his whole life, and the idea of having somebody to love, somebody who he could share everything with...it made everything feel better. He only hoped he could find a way to make it work.
**********
"Have you gone soft! What is this?"
Jim Langley's angry yell reverberated through the walls of the San Francisco Chronicle's newsroom early Monday morning, and Lois cringed. The walls hadn't seen this much shaking since their last earthquake several months ago. She steeled herself by taking a deep breath, then releasing it slowly. "It's my story--"
"You call this a STORY?" Jim threw her article onto his desk in a fit or rage. "I sent you to Metropolis to get *the* story on this guy--this...Superman, as you call him--and what do you do? You come back with this sickening piece of fluff! Other than a fancy name for the new hero and a smattering of details, there's nothing to discern your piece of fluff from the piece of fluff that ran in the Daily Planet the day after this Superman's debut. You said you were going to bring home an article bigger than Watergate!. I don't think this is ever worthy of lining a birdcage, let alone being the expose of the century! What am I supposed to do with this?"
Lois felt like crawling into a hole and disappearing. She could feel the eyes of everybody in the newsroom on her as her editor continued to rage on, and heard the collective gasp from the closer onlookers as Jim threatened to fire her. Lois flinched. The thought wasn't exactly a surprise; she had considered the possibility back in Metropolis. But now that she was standing here in her editor's office being threatened with just such an action, the thought wasn't nearly as dismissible.
She followed her editor's angry movements about his office as he continued to chew her out, but she wasn't listening. She was just waiting for the final word, the one that meant unemployment. After five minutes, though, the worst part of Jim's tantrum seemed to have passed. He shook his head in frustration and sat down in his chair.
"Look, Lois. The Suits at Corporate don't know you like I do. From the day you got here I could see the raw talent you possessed. You're a natural. But you and I both know your method of going after stories is a little unorthodox, and that you can be reckless in your pursuit of your stories. That's how I managed to convince them to send you to Metropolis, telling them you could nail this story and bring back the expose of a lifetime. But you didn't."
He leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his desk. "Lois, you've ruffled feathers at Corporate in the past with your methods, and to be honest, you make them nervous. All they need is one good excuse to fire you. You're good, but I don't think they would see you as irreplaceable. Not at this point in your career. So, I hate to say, if you don't redeem yourself and fast, you may be standing in the unemployment line. Got it?"
Lois swallowed past the lump in her throat. Realizing her hands were shaking, she quickly grasped them together in front of her to still the movement. Jim's report on the bosses in Corporate was news to her. She had no idea she had been on their hit list.
She nodded wordlessly at Jim, then turned and hurried from his office. She did her best to ignore her coworkers' sympathetic stares as she made her way to her desk around the corner with as much pride as she could muster and lowered herself into her seat. She slid down in her chair and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, closing her eyes.
She felt like slinking away and holing up somewhere in embarrassment. It wasn't as if she hadn't worked hard on her article. She had. And she wouldn't exactly call it a piece of fluff. She felt like she had addressed several important issues, and brought to light some new facts about Superman.
For a moment, she wondered what Clark would think of her naming him Superman. She remembered suggesting it only half-seriously to him the first time they'd met at the Planet. Well, it had to be better than some of the other names she'd dubbed him while in Metropolis.
Metropolis.
Lois sighed. How she would give anything at that moment to be back there. More than anything she wanted a shoulder to cry on, someone to understand what she was risking by keeping Clark's secret out of print. Nobody would understand better than he, and right now all she wanted was somebody who could understand.
She turned back to her computer screen despondently. She found herself hoping that if she stared at her monitor long enough, that redeeming story would mysteriously appear. Finally she realized if she was going to find a story, she was going to have to do just that--find it. It wasn't going to find her.
For the next couple of hours Lois tried to work through the few stories that she had pending, but she knew none of them were going to be big enough to redeem herself in her editor's eyes. 'They're better than nothing,' she thought consolingly. 'Maybe it's going to take several solid--albeit smaller--stories to get back in Jim's good graces. Besides, what other choice do you have?"
'You could print the real story about Superman,' the voice in the back of her head suggested. 'That would definitely redeem you in Jim's eyes, as well as in the eyes of those in Corporate.'
Lois eyes widened in shock that such a thought would even enter her mind. But before she could argue, the voice persisted.
'You're a reporter, Lois. This is what you do. Besides, what is Clark to you, really? You knew him for what, three days? You're three thousand miles away from him now, and you still have to prove yourself in this man's world. Besides, you're supposed to report the stories, not become involved with them! You went to Metropolis to get the story worthy of a Pulitzer, and instead you came home with little more than the guy's phone number.'
For the tiniest of seconds, Lois felt herself wavering. It was true--it was her job as a journalist to report the stories. But then she yanked herself back to reality. She wasn't going to expose Clark. He was an incredible man, with great intentions. Even more importantly, he trusted her to keep his secret.
Already angry with everything that had happened this morning, Lois shoved the nasty little voice back into its tiny closet in her mind and slammed the door. She shook her head in disgust and turned back to her computer screen. There was a story worthy of redeeming herself on her hard drive somewhere. She just had to find it.
**********
Feeling more than a little grumpy, Lois pushed her key into her apartment door's lock and heard the door click open. It had been a long day, and she could hardly wait to climb into a hot bubble bath and try to forget she'd ever woken up that morning.
Inevitably, her neighbor's door opened and Agnes hurried out. Lois groaned inwardly. She loved Agnes, but this was not a good time. She sighed and turned to face her neighbor.
"Hi Agnes."
Agnes stopped and scowled at her ragged, weary appearance. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you aren't taking very good care of yourself. Are you getting sick?"
"No, I just had a really bad day at work."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Agnes sympathized. "But I know just what you need to keep up your strength. I have some lovely lamb chops in the oven all set for dinner. Why don't you freshen up and then come over to eat? You still haven't told me about your trip to Metropolis."
"Oh, I don't know, Agnes," she began, trying her best to decline gracefully. "I'm sorry, but could I take a rain check? I really don't feel like eating anything. All I want to do is take a long, hot bath and then climb into bed."
"Nonsense." Agnes shook her head insistently. "What you need is a good meal and somebody to tell about that bad day. I promise you'll feel one hundred percent better after having dinner and a slice of my apple pie. And I'm not taking no for an answer," she finished, her hands on her hips and a motherly look of authority on her face.
Lois had to smile. "Okay, fine," she finally agreed. "But don't expect me to be good company."
Agnes grinned broadly, knowing she had won the battle. "Fine, as long as you're there. See you in ten minutes." And with that, she hurried back into her apartment.
Pushing open the door to her own apartment, Lois walked in and flipped the light switch. More than ever, it felt empty and lonely. Her thoughts drifted to Metropolis, and she found herself wondering what Clark was doing right then. Maybe he was getting ready for bed, or maybe he was even out on a rescue. She felt a sudden urge to talk to him, to call him and simply hear his voice.
She glanced longingly at the phone, then at the clock. With a sigh, she realized she didn't have time. Agnes was expecting her. And by the time she got home, she knew it would be too late to call, since there was a three-hour time difference between them to complicate things.
Trying not to feel even more down than she already did, she went in to change clothes, then pulled her shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail. A few minutes later she was knocking on Agnes's door.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"So, tell me how your trip to Metropolis went," Agnes urged, pouring Lois a cup of her favorite herbal tea as they sat down to dinner. "I want to know all about that cute man in those tight pants."
In spite of her mood, Lois found herself laughing at Agnes's description. "Agnes! I can't believe you just said that."
"What?" her elderly neighbor asked with a feigned air of innocence. "I'm not too old to appreciate a good looking man. So let's just dispense with all this nonsense and get to the good stuff. I want to know what you thought of Metropolis's new hero. 'Superman,' I think you called him in your article this afternoon?"
In spite of all Jim's yelling and flying insults, he let her know an hour before press time that he was going to go ahead and run her story since they didn't have anything else new on the super hero to run. She'd skimmed through it on her way home while stopped in traffic, and she had to admit, on second glance, it did seem a little...soft.
"You read that, did you?" Lois said with a grimace.
Her neighbor nodded. "I did. Not sure that article really sound like you, though, if you ask me. It lacked your usual...well, punch, I guess."
Lois nodded grimly. "You could say that. My editor skinned me alive for that one, complaining that the newspaper spent all that money to send me to Metropolis to get the story, and all I brought him was a 'fluff piece,' he called it. He also called it a few other choice words, but I'm too much of a lady to repeat them all."
Agnes chuckled at the implication. "Well, you can't win 'em all," she sympathized. Then she shook her head and made a tsk-tsk noise. "I thought you, though, of all people, would be able to get the story. It's a shame. Maybe that could have gotten you that Pulitzer Prize you keep talking so much about winning."
At Agnes's words, Lois felt as though somehow had just driven a stake through her heart. Her breathing felt dangerously shallow as she realized it was the second time that day she'd heard words of disappointment expressed by the people whose opinions she valued greatly. They thought she'd failed, when she really hadn't. And that hurt more than anything.
Pushing aside the sudden urge to write the expose she was capable of writing just to prove everyone wrong, that she wasn't a failure, she sighed heavily and reached for the basket of rolls.
"Anyway," Agnes continued after a moment, spooning one of the lamb chops onto Lois's plate and then her own. "At least you got to meet him. Is he as cute in person as he looked on TV?" She gave Lois a mischievous wink that made her seem decades younger.
Suddenly Lois felt like she was back in junior high, when everything was so much easier, gossiping with her friends about current crushes and upcoming dances. Her solemn mood dissipated and she found herself teased into a smile. "Cute? Yeah, I guess you could say that."
Lois grinned at her neighbor's obvious matchmaking attempts, then stared dreamily into space as she thought of a certain man of steel and his alter ego who she'd found herself falling so easily in love with. Finally, she admitted, "I think it would be safe to say he was...well, super."
Agnes's eyes lit up and a mischievous smile worked its way across her face. "You don't say? By that twinkle in your eye, I'd say he had quite an effect on you. Do you think there might be something there between you?"
Lois quickly caught herself and felt a blush warming her cheeks. "Oh, no, it was nothing like that. What makes you say that?"
"Only a man can make a woman blush like that," she said, gesturing to Lois's reddened cheeks.
"It doesn't take a mind reader to know that you've fallen for someone special." She picked up her knife and fork and began to cut her meat.
Lois picked up her utensils and began to do the same. "I might have," she admitted sheepishly. But then she realized how that sounded and she rushed on to clarify. "Not with Superman, though," she quickly amended, hoping the little white lie wouldn't endanger her friendship with Agnes. "I mean, I met someone else while I was there, a man who was working for the Daily Planet. In fact, he was the man who had the first exclusive with Superman."
"Oh, yes, I remember reading that." Agnes nodded as she began to eat. "His article left a lot of questions about 'Superman' unanswered."
"I know. That's what I thought when I read it, which is why I worked so hard in Metropolis to get the answers that man's article didn't answer." She frowned as she turned her attention back to her food and speared a piece of meat with her fork. "I guess I blew it."
They were quiet for a while as they ate, but then Agnes motioned at Lois with her fork as she a chewed. "So tell me about this man you met at the Planet. When did you find time to do anything together? Knowing you, you were all work and no play while you were in Metropolis."
Lois took a drink of her tea, then set her teacup down carefully before answering. "I finally convinced him to help me get in touch with Superman, so we ended up talking quite a bit. We ate lunch together a couple of times, and I went to his apartment to look over some notes he had for an investigation he's working on."
"Hmm, the plot thickens," Agnes teased, eagerly awaiting the rest of the story.
Lois laughed. "It's no big deal. He just turned out to be a really nice guy. He's sweet and considerate, and he opened doors for me a lot." She paused to grin at Agnes. "It turns out we have a lot in common, with being investigative reporters and everything. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him."
"Do you have his?" When Lois nodded, Agnes leaned forward eagerly. "Have you called him yet?"
Lois shook her head. "No, not yet."
"Why not?" Agnes fixed her with a stern look. "If you got along as well as you say, I would expect he'd be waiting to hear from you."
"I don't know," Lois hedged. "I have thought about calling him, but I'm either at work, or by the time I'm home and I have a minute, it's kind of late for a casual phone call on the east coast."
"Lo-is," Agnes scolded, drawing out her name much as her mother used to when she was in trouble. "It sounds like you're just making excuses. Call him tonight."
She glanced at her watch. "It's getting kind of late..."
Agnes jumped up from the table, startling Lois. "Go call him right now before it gets any later. We're both done eating, so go."
"But--" Lois looked down at her empty plate, then back up at Agnes. "But we're not finished. We haven't eaten your pie yet."
With a quick stride around the table which seemed to defy her age, she took Lois by the arm and assisted her to her feet. "Pie can wait," she insisted, steering her toward the door. "Your young man can't. I wouldn't want someone accusing me years from now of sabotaging their budding romance with a piece of apple pie."
She winked at Lois as she opened the front door, and Lois smiled. Feeling energized at the prospect of talking to Clark, Lois gave Agnes's cheek a quick kiss, then hurried through the door with a grateful wave at Agnes and called out, "Thanks, Agnes! You're the best," before disappearing down the hall and into her own apartment, leaving her elderly neighbor chuckling after her and shaking her head.
Lois hurried into her apartment and grabbed her attache off the couch where she'd left it. With shaking fingers, she pulled out her PDA and looked for Clark's number. When she found it, she snatched her cordless phone off the end table and started to dial. She glanced up at the clock on her living room wall. She cringed. It was a little after ten on the east coast. She hoped she wasn't disturbing him by calling so late.
The phone started to ring, and she held her breath. But after four rings his answering machine picked up. Her heart sank. She was sure he'd have been there. Where was he so late?
She tuned in to his answering machine message and her heart lifted a little. She'd forgotten how much she loved the deep, rumbling sound of his voice. She smiled. Just hearing the sound of his voice on his machine message made her feel a little better. Then suddenly the answering machine beeped, signaling for the caller to leave the message, and she froze.
She hadn't considered leaving a message. What on earth would she say? Feeling unprepared and suddenly shy, she quickly chickened out and hung up.
Sinking down onto the couch, a feeling of depression started to sink back in. Where could he be this of night? It wasn't *that* late, she realized, but he hadn't exactly seemed like the party animal. He seemed like the back-home-early kind of guy. 'Maybe he's out doing Superman stuff,' she reasoned.
She brightened a little. She supposed that was possible. Hadn't he mentioned something about liking to fly over the city at night?
Her gaze drifted over to her darkened balcony, and she found herself drawn to it. Standing up, she crossed the room and slid open the glass door, then stepped out onto the cold cement. She looked up at the star-filled night sky and smiled as her heart skipped a beat. She stared up at this same comforting night sky from her balcony hundreds of times over the past few years, but this time it looked different...*felt* different. Somewhere in the dark there was a man sharing her night sky in a way she'd never imagined possible. Suddenly, her sky seemed to hold new possibilities, new meaning.
With a smile and a warm heart, she turned and went back into her apartment. She and Clark may have been three thousand miles apart, but strangely enough, the thought wasn't quite as depressing.
She went through her apartment and turned off the lights, deciding to take that hot bubble bath she had planned on. It was getting too late to try Clark again tonight, but she decided to try him again tomorrow. One way or another, she was determined to make their long-distance relationship work.
**********
to be continued in part 14...
