Hi FoLCs,
Thanks for reading this until the end. I know many are having little time to stop by. For those who have been loyal readers, I wish you all the best and a happy new year. (And for those who dont read my stuff too
)
I guess that for the archives I should call this story 'The Lady of the Ficus.' What do you guys think?
enough of my babbling...
From the last part: "Mr. Kent..." She grabbed his hand and looked right deep into his chocolate eyes with a plead on her lips. "...I did not steal the ficus. Do you believe in me?"
"I do. Ma'am."
Lois looked at both of them and raised an eyebrow. For someone who warned her several times not to jump into conclusions, Clark was seriously contradicting himself now. Was it just because she was a woman? Was he that shallow? *Men!* she thought.
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Lois entered the newsroom fuming. She and Clark haven't talked during their ride back to Planet. Clark couldn't understand why, but at this time it was a little irrelevant. He needed to confirm at least two more things and he would know who was the one who stole the ficus. Hopefully, his hunch would be accurate and he would finally find who the robber was.
"Lois, I need to go to the library get a book before it closes."
"Again? You were there yesterday, getting yourself a book. How many do you read per day?"
"No. This time's different. I'm really going to ge..." he let the truth slip
due to his uncontrolled excitement on his suppositions.
"Ohhhh... I see. So yesterday you were lying just not to pay lunch. Very clever, Clark Kent. Next time it's your treat. This and another will compensate. Maybe."
He grinned, relieved she only demanded two lunches instead of a long-sermon-lengthened explanation about what he was doing instead of having lunch with her on the last day. Obviously he would have to come up with another lame excuse once yesterday he had to save the world from an atomic explosion in South Korea.
He ran to the elevator and as soon as he could, he spun into the suit, arriving on an alley and spinning into normal clothes again just in time to be the last one to enter the library.
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On the next day, Lois found out that Clark wasn't waiting for her on her door steps as he usually did in the morning so she walked alone to the Daily Planet. What surprised her even more was to find her partner among of what seemed to be thousands of files, small little papers, and heavy books written in a language she couldn't understand.
Clark seemed very focused when she greeted him good-morning. She rolled eyes after the fourth attempt to catch his attention, grabbing a heavy book from his desk, and sitting on her desk while browsing inattentively through the pages.
"Russian? Why the heck would you want to learn Russian at seven in the morning? Are you taking one of those long-distance courses or is it a Russian virtual woman that you're trying to impress?"
Clark shook his head, slightly aware of Lois presence, but looking around anyway. There she was alternating hands to hold the heavy English-Russian dictionary he had found on the library. "Uh... What did you say?"
"Nevermind. So does this have anything to do with the case? I mean after you just shut off the possibility of the thief being the countess, I thought you'd have a pretty good idea of whom it might be by now."
"I do."
"Good. Let's hear what you got."
"Do you know that man, Mr. Ruslan Nicolaiev?"
"You think it's him?"
"Lois, why do you always have to jump into conclusions? I didn't say that."
"Ohhhh... I see. You're learning Russian for us to interview him. We hadn't done it yet. Well done, Clark. It will only take you... three or four years to be fluent on it so we can actually start asking him the questions we would want to ask," she sarcastically made a joke, mocking what seemed to her a useless try.
"Let's go." Clark grabbed his jacket and Lois' hand, heading to the elevator in a hurry.
"What kind of speed-up-course were you having?" she asked, shocked.
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"You must apologize my English, Mr Kent. I am still not very familiar with the language."
"We understand, Sir. But your English is just fine." Lois grinned, mentally mocking Clark for learning a language at seven in the morning and not needing it for the interview anyway.
"Sir. Are you a plant collector?" Clark asked, straight to business.
"No. I absolutely hate plants. You don't see any around do you?" his smile seemed honest.
"But are you a roses giver?"
"No. I prefer giving something a little more special to my women. It depends on my mood."
"What do you mean?" Lois interjected.
"If I want to give something small, I give jewellery. If I want to give something big, a car. Ferraris are my passion."
"You give... red Ferraries to your women?" Lois gulped.
"Oh, no, Miss Lane. I don't think about myself as a simple person. I give them silver or black ones." He grinned at Lois' surprise.
"Why are you in Metropolis, Sir?" Clark intervened.
"I was here to visit my dear friend Mr. Stern and the Countess Ryann. But
I'll be leaving in a couple of days. Ryann and Harrison are planning a
cruise and she invited me to join her."
"I thought she was staying for the plant contest."
"Apparently, with the theft of the ficus, she isn't that interested anymore. She told me Mr. Harrison is the one who will be planning her cruise. I just hope he isn't coming either, but I guess I'll only know when we are about to leave. They didn't tell me anything else; just that."
Lois wanted to make a few more questions, but Clark suddenly thanked the man for his time, terminating the conversation.
The three of them rose from the comfortable couch of the Lexor Royal Hotel suite, and the reporters started to make their way to the door. When suddenly Clark turned.
"Ochen preyatno s vami znokomitsa, mister Nicolaiev." Clark shook the man's hand with a big grin on his face, truly satisfied by the answers he got.
"Tozhe ochen preyatno, mister Kent," the man replied, truly surpised to hear his native language on a foreigners lips.
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"I'll drive this time, Lois."
Lois mutely followed him, furrowing her eyebrows to the point they seemed to be only one. "Where are we going?"
"Call Perry, Lois. Tell him we know who stole the ficus."
"Do we know that???" She asked surprised.
"Yes. Tell him that we're now heading to Mr. Stern's house and tell him to call making sure he himself receives us there."
"Clark... are you all right?" Lois measured his temperature with the back of her hand.
"I'm fine. Just give him the call."
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When they arrived at Mr. Stern's residence, Lois and Clark were immediately greeted by the owner of the Daily Planet himself. He escorted them to his office and locked the door, sealing the three of them inside.
"Perry told me you know who the thief is." He looked straight into Lois' eyes, but she seemed couldn't understand what she was doing there so he turned to the confident man right beside her. "Who is he?"
"Sir, exactly how much publicity you want on this?"
"None. I thought I've made it clear."
"And what about the police? Should they be involved?"
"Absolutely not. These are very dear people to me, Mr. Kent. I want to believe this was nothing but a misunderstanding and I don't want it to affect my relationship with any of them. Not only because they are my personal friends but also because they are very important people of the world wide society."
"Therefore you just need to know we've found the thief, Sir."
"Clark..." Lois glanced him, trying to remind him he wasn't talking to a common man and that he couldn't possibly refuse to give him the information he had asked for.
However for Lois surprise, but not Clark's, the man opened a wide smile and thanked them for finding his 'precious'. And that he would appreciate if the ficus was returned to him by the end of the day so it could still participate on the Christmas contest.
Clark nodded while Lois stood there frozen still until he pulled her out of the now open door of the office.
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"Were you nuts? You refused to give him information. Well, it seems to me that both of you were crazy there once you refused and he just smiled. Why would he do such a thing?"
Clark took the wheel again, opening the door for Lois. "Lois, haven't you heard anything he said there? He said he didn't want this theft to interfere on his relationship with any of them. The only way to do that is making him suspect everyone and doubt anyone, making peace and bringing him just what he wants: his 'precious'.
Lois kept in silence for a few minutes, trying to absorb the logic of
Clark's thoughts on this one. Of course he was right. Wasn't he right all the time? Rrrr... She hated that! "So where are we going now?"
"To get Mr. Stern's ficus."
"That quick? Clark, are you sure you're not jumping into conclusions, not checking the water level this time?"
"No, Lois. I'm sure."
They arrived on their destination, but Lois still couldn't understand why they were there. Clark led the way and knocked on the door which was answered by the same person who had answered it before.
"May I help you again, Mr. Kent?"
"Yes. Can we come in?"
"Of course."
"We're here to return Mr. Stern's ficus. Would you kindly give it back to us? I was asked to do so with all the discretion that the situation requires. No police will be involved. We assure you."
A laugh was heard, but Clark didn't move a bit. He was determined that the person was the one who stole the ficus.
"Very well, Mr. Kent. I will return in a moment with your precious ficus."
A moment later...
"Here it is."
"Thank you. Oh, and here is your lighter, Sir."
"Thank you, Mister Kent. You're far too kind."
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With the ficus returned just on time for its presentation on the Christmas contest, Lois and Clark could finally start thinking about their Christmas.
Clark would go to Smallville while Lois would host a dinner at her house. Many people were invited, but only a few had confirmed. In the end, Lois feared none of them would go, but she wouldn't admit it to Clark.
Lois gave Clark a ride to the airport despite of his protests. He didn't want to be a burden mainly because he wouldn't be taking any airplanes on this night. She stopped the car in front of the terminal, wishing Clark a merry Christmas.
"Thanks, Lois. I see you on two days. Oh, by the way, this is for you." Clark showed her a large pack wrapped in a really beautiful Christmas wrapping paper.
"Awww, Clark. You shouldn't have." She quickly unpacked the box and
immediately twisted her lips to one side. "A ficus?"
Clark laughed out loud. "Mere, the girl from the flower shop, helped me choosing the cutest one for you. She also helped wrapping it. I'm very clumsy to do these things. I always miss the details."
"You? You always miss the details? Ha! Clark, you're driving me crazy. Just tell me how did you know it was Mr. Nicolaiev behind the theft of the ficus."
"Well, Lois it was quite simple. You see, the countess had mentioned that she had gotten the perfect ficus from one of her ex-husbands. Well, Mr. Nicolaiev was one of her husbands, but he didn't confirm ever giving her anything."
"He was her husband?"
"Lois, it was on their profile. You just had to carefully read that."
"But what about the earring and the lighter? The initials were clearly a P and an H."
"Well, Lois, the earring belonged to the countess, but she swore she hadn't worn it that day. This and the fact that she admitted that she went to the office, made me believe she was telling the truth and that someone deliberately wanted to incriminate her on that."
"And what about the initials?"
"It caught me in the beginning as well. And that's why I had to make sure Mr. Nicolaiev was really Russian."
"Why is that?"
"Because the initials Ruslan Nicolaiev, R and N, are written like a P and an H respectively in Russian."
"Ahhhhhhhhh... that's why you had all those books with you?"
"Exactly. I suspected him because it was obvious that someone deliberately left those clues there. The earring was an irrefutable proof to incriminate the countess whereas the lighter which was his own, was to incriminate Mr. Harrison. They are lovers. Haven't you notice how desperately Mr. Nicolaiev wanted us to believe they were going to travel together as soon as they could?"
"Oh, Clark. That's amazing! You must be super psychic to catch these small things in the air. Which reminds me..." she turned around, grabbing something. "…that this is for you."
"Oh, Lois. Thanks." Clark held the small box tight on his chest, grinning like a eight year old boy.
"Hey, don't thank me until you open it up!"
"Right." He tore the wrapping paper and laughed even louder. "A plastic ficus?"
"Well, uh... I just thought that if you are just as careless as I am with details, you wouldn't be bothering yourself to water the plant anyway."
They both laughed, each one with their own ficus now.
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