From part 16...
Lex sat in his favorite leather chair in his den, a fire crackling in the fireplace and the lights around the room dimmed. The ambiance was lost on him, however, as he studied the report in his hand.
"It appears Superman will be a formidable adversary," he told Nigel, who stood motionless in the room after delivering the testing results on Metropolis's superhero.
"Formidable, yes." Nigel nodded, watching his employer carefully. "It appears he's invulnerable. Clearly not what you were wanting to hear."
But Lex appeared unruffled as he smiled a little as pursed his lips. "No, but I have to admit, I like the idea of having a challenge. All great men in history were challenged, yet rose above. This is my chance to do the same." He stood up and tossed the stapled pages onto his desk. "It may appear this 'Superman' is invulnerable, but I intend to find a way to eliminate him. It's only a matter of time before I do."
With a confident nod thanking Nigel for the results, he walked from the room. He had things to do and a strategy to plan.
**********
Now, on to part 17...
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Lois walked out of Jim's office and shut the door behind her. Maintaining her composure, she went around the corner where she was out of sight from her coworkers. Looking around to make sure nobody was looking, she betrayed her cool outward exterior by doing a little dance step and pumping her fist.
Yes! He had bought it. When she'd gone into Jim's office that morning to present him with the information she'd gathered on her Mesopotamia, Inc/shipping yards investigation, she half expected him to tell her he'd killed the story for a reason not long ago, then put her on another fluff piece. But much to her surprise, he had listened encouragingly and told her it looked like she might be on to something. He'd tempered his announcement that she could work on the story by insisting he didn't want it to be her main focus just yet until she'd gathered more hard data, and wanted her to keep working on a couple of her other stories in the meantime.
Even so, she considered his permission to go forward with the story a victory. She guessed this meant she was now officially out of her editor's doghouse.
Hurrying to her desk, she brought up a blank email and sent off an enthusiastic note to Clark, telling him Jim Langley had green-lighted her story. She asked if Jimmy had been able to come up with any more background information on the company, commenting that the Chronicle's own research assistant was backlogged and hadn't been able to give her the information she wanted.
She sent the email, then started going back through the information she had gathered so far. A few minutes later, she heard her email program chime, alerting her to the arrival of new email. Eagerly, she turned to her computer screen and looked to see what had arrived. A big grin spread across her face when she saw it was from Clark. Opening it quickly, she started to read.
Lois,
I'm so excited to hear your editor gave you the go-ahead with the Mesopotamia, Inc. story! Maybe now we can track down whoever's behind this. I'm beginning to think it's not just a case of somebody wanting to collect insurance money. If what you're discovering is correct, there's the possibility of money laundering, smuggling, and so much more. I hope it's big enough to get you out of your editor's doghouse for good.
Sorry to hear your research person is behind. But don't worry; Jimmy has come through, as usual. He gave me a big stack of papers on Mesopotamia, Inc.'s finances, business dealings, and miscellaneous records. I'm faxing the more interesting ones to you, and maybe I'll just bring the rest in person later. I know you'll say I don't need an excuse to come, but I'll consider it just that.
Lois grinned as she read his words, her heart warming at the thought of seeing him again soon. Then she continued to read:
On a separate subject, I think you'll find this interesting. You know that double suicide? Jimmy did a background check for me on those two jumpers, and get this. Both of them worked for LexCorp. That seems a little coincidental, don't you think? I'm going to do a little more looking and see if I can find any other connections. I'll keep you posted.
Check your fax, and let me know what you think of the new info. I hope we can get together soon to compare notes on everything. I only wish we worked at the same paper. It would be so great to be able to work with you on these things in person. I can't imagine having a better partner than you.
Hope to see you soon!
Love,
Clark
Still smiling at Clark's words, Lois leaned back in her to ponder his findings on the jumpers. Could there really be a connection between those "tests" and LexCorp? She wasn't so sure that one connection was enough to link the two apparently suicidal jumpers. From everything she'd read about LexCorp, it was a huge company. They employed thousands of workers in many numbers of fields, ranging from nuclear physicists at power plants and scientists at any one of several scientific labs, to investment firms and media-based companies. The fact that both jumpers were employed by LexCorp didn’t necessarily mean anything, did it? It could be coincidence...or not. It didn't give them any hard evidence, but it did suggest there might be something to look into.
Deciding to talk to Clark more about that when she saw him, she went over to the fax machine to look for the information from Clark. There were a dozen or so papers on the fax machine, which she eagerly grabbed and went back to her desk.
For the rest of the morning, she pored through the new information, using a highlighter to mark sections she found particularly interesting. She suspected they go a long way in building their investigation, and she hoped she could use the new information to tie in her own research.
She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice her co-workers gathering around the bank of TV monitors off to her right until she heard several people gasp. She looked up quickly and spotted the gathering. With furrowed brow, she pushed her chair back from her desk and wandered over to see what was happening.
Stopping beside her co-workers, she turned her attention to the breaking news story. The on-site Japanese correspondent was explaining that there had been a volcanic eruption, and it looked to be one of the biggest eruptions in history. Dozens of people had already been killed, and while there were rescue crews on the scene, nobody seemed to be able to evacuate the villagers fast enough.
Suddenly the camera panned to the right, and the correspondent explained that Superman had arrived a little over an hour ago and was doing all he could to help the rescue crews evacuate the villagers and attempt to build dams to slow the lava flow.
Lois was unable to tear her eyes away from the devastating events playing out a world away. She watched along with the world as Clark--Superman--did everything he could to help. Her heart was heavy as she realized what a losing battle he was fighting. The lava was simply descending upon everyone and everything in its path too quickly.
The coverage continued through on into the afternoon, and Lois had to force herself to go back to work. She found herself checking back in from time to time, however, saddened at the increasing death toll. She heard more mentions of Superman doing various things to help as the hours passed, and she found herself wondering how Clark was holding up under the particularly devastating circumstances.
It was getting late when she finally shut down her computer for the day, packed Clark's faxed pages and some of her own research into her attache, then headed for the elevators. She stepped out into the lobby a short time later and was on the way out of the building when the afternoon edition of the Chronicle sitting on the newsstand in the lobby caught her eye.
A gasp escaped her lips. She quickly picked up a newspaper and looked at the headline and picture splashed across the front page. The story had been written by a foreign correspondent on the scene in Japan, the headline announcing:
Superman Reveals Human Side
Below the bold headline was a larger-than-life color picture of a very dirty and rumpled Superman with tears on his cheeks and the limp, lifeless body of a young girl in his arms.
Lois felt an invisible hand clench around her heart. Numbly, she fished some money out of her pocket and handed it to the man at the stand. Her eyes never left the paper as she walked into the parking garage and climbed into her car. There she read the details of the events that had happened earlier that day, including the event shown in the picture. When she finished, her tear-filled eyes went once again to the picture. Her heart ached for Clark. Knowing what a loving, tenderhearted man he was, she was sure this was killing him.
She drove home in a daze, barely managing to concentrate as she navigated through the busy streets. Her thoughts on Clark, she decided she would phone him the second she got home. She had no idea if he would be back in Metropolis yet, but all she knew was that she had to try. At the very least she could leave a message for him on his answering machine to let him know she'd seen what had happened and wanted to know how he was doing.
By the time Lois finally reached her apartment, darkness had settled in. She rode up in the elevator, gratefully empty for once, then tiptoed out of the elevator and to her apartment door. For once, Lois didn't feel like talking to Agnes. All she wanted to do was slip inside her apartment unnoticed and call Clark.
Unlocking her door, she quickly went inside and flipped on the lights. As she did, a sudden movement in her living room made her gasp. The sight of a man on her couch caused her hand to fly to her throat, her adrenaline pumping. But a moment later she recognized the form and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Clark.
Forcing her racing heart to slow, Lois lowered her hand and took a shaky breath. "Oh my gosh, Clark, you scared the daylights out of me." She took a few steps toward him, but then her steps slowed as she got a good look at him. He was still in his Superman costume, streaked with dirt and ash, his hair tousled and his shoulders slumped, and his skin patchy and red from crying. He looked devastated.
Her heart constricting painfully, she rushed over to him and sat next to him on the couch. He didn't even seem to register her presence as she put a hand on his knee. "Clark--" she began, but then her voice trailed off. For once, she had no idea what to say.
Lois gave herself a mental shake, then tried again. "Clark, I saw the coverage on the news. Are you okay?"
For the first time since her arrival, he moved, shifting his weight numbly on the couch. He shook his head, his voice hoarse and strained as he spoke. "Lois, it was horrible. Nobody was expecting the volcano to erupt as violently as it did. The villagers had hardly any warning. I did all I could, but we couldn't get everyone evacuated in time."
His voice wavered and then drifted off, and Lois could see the muscle working in his jaw as he struggled for composure. She lifted a hand to his back, rubbing soothingly. "I know," she whispered sadly. "I'm so sorry."
He shook his head dismally. "I keep thinking about how many people died, how many people I couldn’t get to in time.... But the worst part was..." His voice broke off, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "There was this little girl who had been separated from her parents who had gotten away safely, but when I went looking for her where she'd last been seen, I found her, but she was..." His voice again choked to a halt and a sob escaped. "I was too late..."
This time he broke down in earnest, sobs wracking his body. He leaned forward, dropping his head to his knees and let the tears come. Instinctively, Lois stretched her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her. His head slumped against her shoulder as his cries shook his body.
With tears in her own eyes, she slid both arms around him and held him tightly, stunned by his unexpected emotional response. He clung to her as if she were his lifeline, letting many hours of pent-up emotions flood to the surface. For a long time Lois held him wordlessly, her hand stroking his dark, rumpled hair in an effort to console him.
When his sobs finally diminished, he straightened a little, his face creased with exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Lois, I didn't mean to just show up here and get into your apartment without permission, but I didn't know where else to go..."
"I'm glad you came here," she reassured him quietly. "I want you to feel like you can talk to me whenever you need to. I know how horrible this must have been for you, but Clark, you can't blame yourself over the death of that little girl, or for the deaths of any of those other people. No one can expect you to be everywhere at once. You did your best, and there are a lot of people alive today *because* of you. Maybe that's what you should think about instead...all the people you did help, rather than the ones you couldn't."
"But that's just it, Lois," Clark continued, his voice gravelly and hoarse from crying. "The ones I didn't help are the ones who will be haunting my dreams and keeping awake at night. How can I live with myself, knowing that I couldn’t save them--especially that little girl? I keep thinking that maybe there was something more I could have done. Maybe I could have been faster, maybe I could have tried a little harder, or anticipated better. There has to have been something that--"
"Clark, stop!" Lois interrupted firmly, causing him to look up at her and meet her stern but sympathetic gaze. "You did your best." She enunciated each word with added emphasis. "No one can ask you to do more than that. Without you, none of those people would have survived. You can't keep beating yourself up about this. Yes, you have some very special powers to use to help people, but that does not make you perfect. It was a terrible thing to happen, Clark, but it was not...your...fault. Do you understand me?"
Clark didn't answer for a long moment, but then finally nodded. She could tell from his expression that he still wasn't convinced, though, and she sighed. What was she supposed to say to convince him? Suddenly she wasn't sure there were any magic words. He may be physically invulnerable, but she was acutely aware of how good his heart was, and how very vulnerable that made him inside. His powers made him super, but his emotions made him human. She wasn't sure that was a very healthy combination when you factored in his guilt and tenderness for his fellow man.
With new sympathy for the man sitting next to her, she once again reached out and took him into her arms, hugging him tightly. Without hesitation he slipped his own arms around her and held on tightly. His tears had long since been spent, but he seemed to take comfort in her closeness.
Lois had no idea how long they sat that way holding each other, but when Clark finally pulled away, he didn't look quite as despondent. She attempted a smile and reached up to wipe a smudge of dirt from his cheek with her thumb. "Are you going to be okay?"
He nodded silently, his gaze still pained as it met with her compassionate one. He glanced down at himself and suddenly became aware of his appearance. Then his eyes widened as he stood up and looked down at her dirt-smudged couch. "Oh, Lois, I'm so sorry about your couch! When I got here I was just so.... I didn’t even think about--"
"Clark, it's okay," she assured him, standing up to take his hands in hers. "You don't have to apologize. I had everything Scotchguarded when I bought it because I eat out here all the time and didn't want to have to worry about spills. It will clean up just fine. You, on the other hand, are a wreck." She smiled when he turned to look at her, clearly surprised by her matter-of-fact statement. "You're welcome to use my shower, and I'm sure I can scrounge up some clothes that would fit you. I always wear oversized sweats to lounge around in on my sloppy days."
Clark hesitated. "Are you sure you don't mind? It's not that big a deal for me to fly back to Metropolis--"
Lois cut him off by grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the hall. "Clark, you're exhausted. In the state you're in, you'd probably crash into the Golden Gate Bridge or something." She led him into the hall bathroom and flipped on the light. Then she pulled a couple of towels out from under the sink, shoved them into his arms, then told him to wait there before hurrying across the hall into her bedroom. She rummaged through her drawers for a moment, then returned to him with an oversized white T-shirt, a baggy pair of blue sweats, and a pair of drawstring and elastic boxer shorts that made him cock an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes at his startled expression. "No, they're not an old boyfriend's pair or anything," she insisted indignantly, knowing that was exactly what he was thinking. "I like sleeping in baggy boxers, okay?" Then she put a hand to his chest and pushed him back a step, then grinned and shook her head at his expression as she closed the door between them. Clearly he wasn't used to being pushed and ordered around by slender women half his size.
Trying to give him his privacy, she went into the kitchen and opened her fridge. Maybe she had something she could whip up for a quick dinner. She didn’t know if he was hungry, or if he even had to eat, but she was starving. It had been a long time since her hastily eaten sandwich at lunch.
She spotted a plate of chicken drumsticks Agnes had brought over to her the day before, and stuck them in the microwave. With a quick flip of her wrist, she turned the knob, then punched the 'start' button. When that was on its way, Lois turned and surveyed the kitchen. She grimaced. It had been a couple of days since she'd cleaned up, and she noticed a couple of cereal bowls with cereal dried and stuck to the inside, a ring of congealing milk inside the bottom. She quickly put them in the sink and filled them with hot water to soak, then spotted the empty take-out cartons near the stove.
She heard the shower turn off and realized she'd better hurry. Apparently he even used his super powers to speed through his showers. She grabbed the garbage can from the corner and carried it to edge of the counter so she could sweep the empty containers and crumpled napkins into the garbage with a quick movement of her arm. Then she rushed back across the kitchen to set the garbage can back in its spot.
Acutely aware that she was almost out of time, she grabbed the sponge next to the sink and swiped it under the water still pouring out of the faucet into the cereal bowls. She yelped as the hot water soaked her sponge and burned her hand. Instinctively she jerked her hand back, sending little droplets of water flying behind her across the kitchen--and onto Clark as he stepped into the room.
She gasped as she caught his movement and saw drops of water on his startled face and on his shirtfront. "Clark, I'm so sorry!" she hastily apologized as she grabbed a dishtowel from the counter, then cradled her still burning hand against her as she hurried over to hand him the towel. He smiled a little, seeming a little more like his old self after a hot shower. 'Or two,' she thought with a grimace, 'if you count the one you just gave him.'
"You didn't think I was clean enough?" he joked, a hint of his usual sense of humor returning. He flipped the dishtowel up to rest across his shoulder and reached for her hand. "Let me see."
He took the hand she held out to him and he grasped her fingertips lightly as he examined the reddened skin. "You burned yourself pretty good here. Let's get it under some cool water." He led her to the sink, turned off the hot water knob, then turned on the cold. He checked the temperature first, then guided her hand under the water.
She flinched as the cool water made her burned skin tingle, but didn't pull her hand from Clark's grasp. Lois looked up to see Clark's eyes on her. His expression was tender, yet there was still a haunting sadness behind his eyes. It was quite for a moment, the running facet and the humming microwave the only sounds in the room.
Just then the sound of something exploding in the microwave made them both jump. They turned to look at the appliance, and Clark quickly dropped her hand and rushed over to open the door. Lois turned off the cold water, then followed. She grimaced as she peered around him to see little bits of exploded chicken clinging to the insides of the microwave.
Clark glanced down at the timer. "You put chicken in for fifteen minutes? It only needs a couple. No wonder it exploded."
"Oops," she said sheepishly. "I just turned the knob to nothing in particular, meaning to come back and check on it in a minute, but I guess I let it go too long."
Clark chuckled in spite of himself as he took the plate of what remained of the chicken out of the microwave and set it on the counter. "You really are a disaster in the kitchen. I've only been in here a couple of minutes and you've already burned your hand and blew up your dinner."
He glanced at her standing behind him, her wet hand dripping onto the floor, and reached up for the towel across his shoulder. He went over to the sink and ran it under cold water, then wrung the excess from it and handed it to her. "Here, wrap this around your hand for a few minutes. It will help."
She did as she was told, then looked up at him as he went over to survey the now rubbery chicken. "I'm sorry to say your chicken looks pretty hopeless," he told her. He threw away the remnants of the chicken, then walked over to her fridge and opened the door. He shook his head. "How do you even stay alive? There isn't enough in here to make a meal."
He surveyed what little she had in the fridge, then moved on to her cupboards, opening and closing each door in search of ingredients. Lois watched him from her perch on the barstool at the island in the center of her kitchen, feeling a little like a scolded child. But how did she explain that she'd never had an opportunity to learn how to cook, and that her meals usually consisted of pizzas, take-out, and microwave dinners? With no mother around to teach her such things, fending for herself had taken on the form of quick, easy meals.
Clark pulled a couple of cans out of the cupboard, a forgotten, half-empty bag of shell noodles, and a small block of cheese from the fridge. Then he extracted a couple of pans from another cupboard and set then on the stove. He used the can opener he found in one of the drawers and started opening the cans. Lois watched with interest as he worked.
As if sensing her gaze on him, Clark glanced up and smiled when their eyes met. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to teach you to cook. You have to keep yourself healthy, you know. If not for you, for me."
His eyes were earnest as he spoke the last words, and Lois had no trouble understanding the depth of his feelings toward her, and that he was eternally grateful to have her to turn to when things happened like they had that day.
Lois smiled back, and Clark inclined his head.
"Come over here and I'll show you a really simple recipe."
She climbed off the stool and tossed the damp towel from her hand onto the counter next to the sink before walking over to Clark. When she stopped beside him, he lifted his hand to her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. For the next few minutes, he talked her through cooking the noodles, then draining them before adding the sauce he'd concocted from a couple different cans of soup. Then he helped her pour the ingredients into a small casserole dish, sprinkle the top with grated cheese, and slide it into the oven. Ten minutes later the stove timer went off, and he pulled the bubbling dish out of the oven, setting it on the stove top with a flourish.
"Voila. Instant dinner."
"How did you know what to include in the casserole, though?" she asked, confused. "I would have never been able to look through my cupboards and pull a casserole together."
He shrugged as he got two plates out of her cupboard and set them on the counter next to the stove. "It just takes practice. The more you cook, the easier it is to know what will work with what."
They dished up, then sat down on barstools next to each other at the island. "This is really good," Lois said with appreciation around the hot bite in her mouth. "I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's nothing fancy, but it has to be better than mutilated chicken."
Lois laughed at his thinly veiled joke. "I'm still embarrassed about that. The last thing I wanted to do was make you cook for me. You've been through enough today."
Her mention of the day's events caused a pained look to resurface in Clark's eyes, and Lois immediately wished she could take back her words. "Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"
"No, it's okay," he said, shaking his head. "And I liked cooking dinner for you. It gave me something to do to take my mind off things. I suspect it will be a while before I can think about it without remembering everything that happened..." His voice caught, and he struggled to maintain his composure. "Anyway," he continued a moment later when he managed to bring his emotions back under control, "I just want to thank you for letting me show up unannounced tonight. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
Lois's frown turned to a gentle smile. "You're welcome. Anytime you feel like you need to, I'd love for you to come by. My window is always open."
Clark chuckled at the change in wording of the familiar expression. "Thanks. It's nice to know that, especially those times when I really don’t want to be alone."
They finished eating, then put their dishes in the sink. Lois glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was just after nine o'clock. "You don't have to rush off, do you?" she asked Clark as he refilled his glass with water from the faucet.
He shook his head. "Not unless you feel like I'm imposing."
Lois rolled her eyes. "Like that would ever happen. I'd love to have you hang around a while longer. Maybe I can show you what I've learned from our combined Mesopotamia, Inc. notes."
Clark brightened. "You found something?"
"Nothing conclusive yet," she admitted, "but there's some interesting facts I've come across when you compare your research notes with mine."
She walked over to the front door where she'd dropped her attache when she'd first come into her apartment. Picking it up, she went over to set it on the coffee table when she saw Clark emerge from the kitchen with the damp dishtowel. She watched, curiously, as he crossed over to the couch with it and dropped to his knees before it. Then he started to wipe at the dirt streaks on the cushion.
"Clark, stop," she told him firmly. "You don't need to do that. I can clean it later."
"Not when I'm the one who made the mess."
Rolling her eyes skyward, she realized this wasn't an argument she was going to win. She sighed. "Okay, fine. While you do that, though, I'm going to change out of these work clothes and into something more comfortable. Do you mind?"
Clark glanced up from his scrubbing. "Of course not. Go ahead."
Leaving him to his scrubbing, she turned and walked to her bedroom at the other end of her apartment and shut the door. She quickly changed out of her business suit and heels, and into a pair of sweats and a soft cut-off T-shirt that was one of her favorites. Then she went into her private master bath and let her hair down from the professional-looking bun she'd been wearing that day. She brushed her hair until it lay flat and hung loosely around her shoulders. She looked into the mirror and smiled. Much better.
Turning off the lights in her bathroom and bedroom, she wandered back out into the living room. She was just in time to see Clark standing up from his kneeling position in front of the couch, apparently satisfied that her couch was now clean. He caught sight of her coming into the room and looked her up and down. Then he gave her his first genuine smile of the evening.
She glanced down at herself, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What?"
"Nothing." Clark shook his head as she approached. "It's just--well, I've never seen you so casual before. I like it."
"No you don't," she scoffed as she sat down beside Clark on the now-clean couch.
"Really, I do," Clark insisted, his voice sincere. "I like you like this--just Lois, hanging out at her apartment after work." His smile softened and he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "But most of all, I like hanging out *with* you. You make me feel--"
His voice trailed off as he searched for the word he was looking for, and Lois waited with her breath in her throat. Finally he smiled and finished with, "Better. You make me feel better. You give me the strength to go on. Without you, I'm not sure I could have after today."
Lois tilted her head to the side as she sighed and looked at him sympathetically. "Clark, please don't say things like that. I know you meant it as a compliment, but it just makes me worry about you. Besides, I'm sure you would have bounced back without me. What about your parents? Surely you could have gone to them and told them how rough your day was."
He shook his head. "Not with this. If I had shown up an emotional wreck at their place like I did here, they would have been beside themselves with worry. They're worried enough about me already, and I can hear them telling me I should quit, how none of this is healthy..." His voice trailed off and he sighed. "I *want* to help people, Lois. And for the most part, it's everything I wanted it to be. I just hadn't expected days like today."
He looked down, unable to meet her gaze as he continued. "Anyway, when I was flying back from Japan, all I could think of was how I couldn’t show up at my parents' house in the state I was in. But I couldn't stand the thought of going back to my empty apartment, either. That's when I found myself subconsciously steering my way over here. Somehow I knew I could only find the comfort I needed with you."
When he finally looked back up at her, his eyes were bright with tears. "I'll probably have nightmares for months about the things I saw, but I just know I'll be able to get through that knowing I'm not so alone anymore."
Lois felt tears welling up in her own eyes, and she reached out to cover Clark's hands with hers. An understanding passed between them that didn't require words, and Lois felt the bond they shared even stronger than ever.
"Promise me you'll at least phone your parents to tell them you're okay, though," Lois urged quietly. "The media coverage was shown on pretty much every channel, and I know they'd worry if they didn’t hear from you."
He nodded. "I was already planning on calling them."
It was quiet for several moments, then Clark cleared his throat and sat up straighter on the couch, breaking the mood. "Now, before I start to lose it all over again, let's talk about something else. You said something about making some connections with your research?"
Lois pulled the notes and papers she'd gathered out of her attache and began showing Clark what she'd been working on. She showed him the highlighted sections, and he seemed to think some of the other paperwork Jimmy had dug up for him might further build their investigation.
"I'm going to have to fly back out here with the other information Jimmy gave me. I'm sure nobody would be very happy with me if I faxed the whole stack of papers I got."
"Yeah, flying out here with them definitely sounds like the way to go." She shook her head and grinned. "It sounds so funny to hear myself saying that. I have to admit, this is probably the easiest long-distance relationship in history."
Clark laughed. "Thank goodness, because if we were having to resort on airplanes and telephone calls, we'd be broke."
They talked for a while longer, then Clark pulled her to her feet beside him. "Come on. Before I go, let me help you with the dishes. And before you argue that I don't have to do that--" he interrupted as she opened her mouth to protest, "--I should tell you that I have surefire ways of keeping you from arguing."
Lois saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and grinned. "You do, huh? Like what?"
As if accepting her dare, Clark demonstrated by leaning down and pressing his lips lightly to hers. Lois was stunned by his bold move, but she quickly relaxed against him and kissed him back.
"Mmm," she murmured when their kiss ended and Clark pulled back only far enough to look into her face. "If that's what I'll get for arguing, I promise I'll be arguing a lot more often."
She leaned in to kiss him once more and Clark laughed against her lips. "Sounds good to me," he mumbled.
After a few more light kisses, Clark took her hand and led her into the kitchen. "Don't ever let me hear you say I didn't pull my weight around the house. I can wash dishes extra fast without breaking a single one." Then he grimaced. "Okay, occasionally one. But that wasn't my fault. I heard shots fired and dropped it in my haste to spin change into Superman."
Lois laughed. "Leave it to you to have a spectacular story about a broken dish."
Clark proceeded to demonstrate how fast he could do the dishes, and Lois teased him about showing her up as she had to resort to drying dishes at normal human speed. She was glad to see his mood seemed to be brightening as the evening wore on, and she hoped the worst of his experience was over.
He helped her dry the remainder of the dishes, and Lois put them back in the cupboards. She stood on her tiptoes to put a large bowl up on one of the higher shelves in the cabinet, and she heard Clark gasp.
"Lois, what happened?"
Startled, she glanced over at Clark to see him staring at her stomach. She dropped her gaze to find out what was looking at and saw that her stretching motion had caused her short shirt to lift up. In plain sight was her long, harsh-looking scar running from just above her belly button up towards her ribs where it disappeared beneath the fabric of her shirt. A couple of other smaller scars ran at various angles on either side of it.
She quickly dropped her arms and tugged her short shirt down self-consciously over her stomach. "Oh, um, nothing," she stammered, attempting to shrug nonchalantly. "It's nothing."
Clark opened his mouth to press for information, then thought better of it and closed it again. Lois breathed a sigh of relief as he let the subject drop.
"Well, I guess I should head out," he said. Then he glanced around the kitchen. "You don't happen to have a plastic grocery bag anywhere, do you?"
She stared at him in confusion. "Why?"
"I almost forgot about my Superman costume. It's too dirty to put back on, so I figured I'd put it in a bag and wear what I'm wearing on the way home. If that's okay with you."
"Sure, that's fine," she told him with a shrug. "Don't you worry about flying home in anything but the Suit, though? What if someone sees you?"
"I'll fly high enough that nobody will, then land in a deserted alley not far from my apartment. It's after one A.M. in Metropolis, so I should be able to get home undetected."
He followed Lois into the kitchen where she pulled a plastic grocery bag from a drawer and handed it to him. He went into the bathroom, put his folded Suit into the bag, then returned to where Lois was standing on her balcony, admiring her view of the city.
"Thanks for the use of the clothes," he told her, fingering the sweats and T-shirt she'd lent him. "I'll bring these back to you next time I come over."
"Sure, no problem." She glanced up at him, then dropped her gaze to the ring she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. She began to twist it nervously as she spoke. "Speaking of coming over," she started, "I know you've already been out here a couple of times in the last week, but I was kind of wondering..."
When she didn’t continue right away, Clark prompted, "Yes?"
Unable to look up to meet his gaze, she forged ahead. "I was kind of wondering if you might like to...go on an official date."
A slow grin spread across Clark's face. "I'd love to go out on a date with you," he told her, closing the rest of the distance between them and reaching out for her fingers. "When? Where?"
Feeling more courageous now that he hadn't rejected her outright, she looked up at him and shrugged. "I don't know...maybe Friday? We could go out to dinner. I know this great little place that isn't swarmed by tourists. I'm sure you'll love it. And maybe I could give you a tour of the city, and show you some of the sights.... What do you think?"
"It sounds great. What time should I be here?"
Lois let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Maybe around five o'clock? You'd be off work by then because of the time zone difference, but it would still be light enough here to show you around the city."
Clark's smile broadened. "That sounds perfect." It was quiet for a moment, then Clark's expression softened as he tightened his grip on her hands. "Thanks again for letting me come here tonight, Lois. I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through everything that happened today without you."
She smiled up at him and squeezed his hands back. "No thanks are necessary. I'm just glad I could help."
Clark leaned down to kiss her gently, then stepped back, the bag containing his Suit still in his hand. "Goodnight, Lois. I'll look forward to seeing you on Friday."
"Me too," she told him with a smile. She watched him lift off the ground and soar into the night sky. She shook her head. It looked so strange to see him do that in Clark clothes. She'd only ever seen him do it in his Superman costume, and somehow it gave her an extra rush seeing him do it as "Clark." Turning, she walked back into her apartment and shut the sliding glass door behind her.
Their first official date. That was an important milestone, wasn't it? She suspected it was, but it didn't seem like the typical first date. She already knew she liked him, and they'd already kissed. She smiled at that. How could she forget? He was a really great kisser. And an official date usually had kissing in there somewhere, didn't it?
She grinned. The possibility just gave her one more reason to look forward to Friday.
**********
to be continued in part 18...
