Author's note: I apologize for this being so long, but I promise, I'm almost done! I've worried that I'm boring ppl and that people have stopped reading. If so, I'm sorry to hear that.
But just so those of you who are still reading know, I plan to have this finished by May 1st. That's my goal. I'm so close to being done I can taste it!
~*~*~*~*~
From part 27:
"Be creative and get it done," the voice growled impatiently. "Make her home line your top priority, since our people inside can at least keep an eye at her while she's at work. We need to be able to monitor her phone conversations from home. Luthor says she's a workaholic, so she's likely doing a lot of research from there. In the meantime, do you know if she has any evidence that Luthor's involved?"
"It doesn't sound like it. She's still researching."
There was silence for a moment. Then came the response, "Warn her. Memorably. Tell her to back off...or else."
"You got it." Smith clicked the phone shut, then tucked it back into his pocket.
He glanced at his watch. All he had to do now was bide his time and wait for his opportunity.
~*~*~*~*~
Now on to part 28
~*~*~*~*~
Lois realized how right she'd been when she'd told Clark that morning she might end up staying late to make up for her late morning arrival. It was almost seven when she finally shut down her computer and gathered up her things.
Feeling a renewed determination to find out everything she could about Clark's meteorites, UFO sightings, Project Bluebook's members, as well as Trask and his Bureau 39, she had printed every piece of research she could find, and downloaded the things to big to print onto discs. She managed to fit some of it into her attache, but her arms were still loaded as she boarded the elevator and used her elbow to punch the button for the parking garage.
Not surprising, considering the hour, she rode the elevator alone, and stepped out in the near vacant underground parking garage. A few dozen cars remained as the night shift had arrived at the Chronicle, but it was definitely quiet compared to the morning and daytime bustle of the comings and goings of staff.
She started walking away from the elevator toward row "C" where she always parked. She'd only gone a few steps when a noise somewhere off to her left startled her. She jumped, nearly dropping her load of papers she balanced in her arms. With practiced eyes, she took in her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. She strained to listen for any unusual sounds that would alert her to possible danger. Still nothing.
Shaking her head at herself, she moved on. But a few steps later, she felt the distinctive chill go down her spine. The sensation was undeniable. Somebody was watching her. Turning her head to look behind her, she still didn't see anybody, but she quickened her step anyway.
She had just barreled around the corner of the garage to reach the "C" aisle when she found herself crashing into somebody. She let out a startled cry, and papers flew everywhere. Her instincts readied her to run, but just then she realized she was looking into the surprised and puzzled face of Jim Langley.
"Jim," she breathed on a sigh of relief. Then she looked down at the mess of papers around her and groaned. "I'm sorry," she murmured and she bent down to pick them up. "I didn't mean to crash into you like that. Anyway, I thought you'd left a long time ago."
"I did, but I got partway home before I realized I'd left some paperwork here I needed to go over tonight. Where were you going in such a hurry?" He joined her in a squat and began to help her gather her papers, chuckling at the immense amount of research he was collecting from the floor of the garage. "What in the world are you working on? There's enough research here to keep you busy at home for a month."
She sighed. "I know. It's something I believe is linked to that Mesopotamia, Inc. investigation I'm working on."
Jim nodded gruffly as they finished collected the papers, and he handed her his stack. "Having any luck with that?"
"A little. I'm still working on the connections and a few other things."
"I see."
They stood up, and Jim reached for her attache as she struggled to get it back on her shoulder without upsetting the papers in her arms. "Here, let me help you to your car with all this."
"Thanks," Lois breathed gratefully, and they walked the short distance to where her BMW was parked. She set everything on the passenger seat, then smiled her thanks at her editor. "I appreciate the help."
"No problem." He smiled, his dark skin crinkling around his eyes. Then her grew more serious and shook a finger at her. "But just don't let this research overwhelm the other stories you're currently working on for me, you hear? I expect some great page-one news from my star reporter this week."
She smiled. "Got it, Chief."
He nodded at her, then turned toward the elevator. "'Night, Lois. See you back here in the morning."
"'Night, Chief."
When he disappeared around the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief and got into her car, the eerie feeling of being watched before now gone. Still, she found herself peering in the rearview mirror as she drove out of the parking garage.
*Had* somebody been watching her? She'd been in this business long enough to recognize that feeling and to respect it. But if somebody had been watching her, why?
She shivered. Maybe Clark was right. Maybe she was going to have to start being more careful.
**********
Lois was relieved to get back to her apartment that evening. She went inside and quickly locked the door behind her, then glanced around her apartment. Everything was as she had left it that morning.
She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and smiled sheepishly. Of course everything was as she'd left it. Why wouldn't it be?
With a shake of her head, she set her attache down on the couch and did her best to set aside the paranoia lingering from her experience in the parking garage at the Chronicle.
She had just flipped on the light switch in the kitchen when the loud screeching of the building's fire alarm made her jump. She glanced around. There was no sign of smoke in her apartment, so she hurried to the front door and felt for warmth. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, so she cautiously opened the door.
A couple of her neighbors were talking anxiously as they walked quickly past her door to the stairwell at the far end of the hall as per building protocol.
"What's going on?" she called to one of them.
The middle-aged woman passing by with her husband shrugged, but the casual gesture didn't belay the worry in their eyes. "We have no idea."
They kept walking, but the man muttered, "I sure hope the building isn't really on fire."
Lois narrowed her eyes and looked up and down the hall. She still didn't seem any sign of smoke, but she decided to follow evacuation procedures and head down to the ground floor.
She was just about to knock on Agnes's door to see if she might still be in her apartment when her neighbor's door opened. Agnes's eyes were wide with apprehension, and she clutched Princess in her arms tightly.
"Is that really the fire alarm?" she asked.
Lois nodded. "Yes, but nobody really knows if there's really a fire. It's best to play it safe, though, and evacuate. Come on, I'll help you down the stairs. I'm not sure if the elevator's safe."
With great care, she helped her elderly neighbor down the flights of stairs to the lobby while Agnes concentrated on keeping Princess from squirming out of her arms. Once there, they joined the rest of the building's tenants as they filed out of the building. A large crowd was congregating on the sidewalk under the streetlights and small lawn area in front of the building, grateful for the feeling of security the lights gave them in the darkness. Lois steered Agnes with her little dog toward them and merged with the crowd.
In the distance, a fire engine's siren wailed, signaling its approach. She waited anxiously with the crowd for its arrival. The siren grew louder, and it took Lois several moments to realize her cell phone was ringing. She fumbled for it in her slacks pocket, now glad she hadn't had the time to take it out and set it in the charger when she'd arrived home.
She flipped the phone open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?" she spoke loudly, covering her other ear with the palm of her hand to block out the sound of the oncoming siren.
"Lois," Clark's voice came across the line. "I thought I might reach you on your cell. I tried to call your apartment a couple of times, but you weren't there." His voice trailed off for a moment. "Where are you? I hear sirens."
She sighed. "I'm standing outside my apartment building. The fire alarms went off. We've just been evacuated, and the fire department's arriving."
She turned to see the first red fire engine screech to a halt a short distance from her. She heard a click on the line. "Clark?" she asked, turning her attention back to her phone conversation and straining to hear his voice on the line. "Clark, are you there?"
Deciding she either lost the connection or that she simply couldn't hear him over the din, she snapped her phone shut and looked over at the fire crew hurrying down from the fire truck. She turned to Agnes. "I'm going to go talk to their chief."
"Shouldn't you just stay out of their way?" Agnes called after her as she started heading for the fire personnel.
Lois shook her head and said over her shoulder, "You don't get where I am in my business by staying out of people's way."
She strode over to the tall, stocky man standing near the front of the fire engine who was calling out directions. He glanced at her as she stopped beside him.
"I'm Lois Lane from the Chronicle," she said in a business-like voice. "I also live here. What can you tell me about what's going on? Is there really a fire?"
"At this point, we don't know." The fire chief turned to call out a few instructions at the men filing past him, then continued, "We're simply responding to the alarm. We'll know soon enough if there is a fire or if it's just a false alarm."
Just then a familiar sonic boom sounded overhead, and a moment later, Clark in his now-famous Superman suit landed in front of the building. Her heart immediately started to flutter.
Gasps of, "It's Superman!" and "Superman's here!" sounded around them, but Clark seemed oblivious to the responses as his intense gaze searched the crowd. Then his eyes met hers, and a look of relief flashed across his face. He hurried over to where she stood beside the fire chief, the concern for her evident in his eyes.
"Lo--" he began, then quickly caught himself. "Miss Lane." Seeing that the fire chief next to her had turned to bark out more orders at his crew, Clark leaned forward and whispered, "Are you all right?"
Lois felt a blush rising to her cheeks. Even after his reassurances during their phone conversation earlier that she shouldn't be nervous around him, she still felt her stomach dance, knowing that this was the man she had made love with just that morning.
A murmur in the crowd around her pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced around, noticing that they were very much the center of attention. A different feeling of nervousness fluttered into her stomach as she realized the superhero's concern for her seemed...maybe a little too obvious for a place teeming with onlookers and activity. As often as he warned her about being careful not to let the public make a romantic connection between them, he certainly wasn't being very discreet himself.
An insistent yapping sounded just behind her, and she turned to see that Agnes had come to stand behind her and was gaping at the red-and-blue clad superhero only a few feet away. She struggled to hold her yapping poodle at bay in her arms, and Lois bit back a smile at the poodle's continued dislike of the man standing before her. The dog was clearly not impressed by the world famous superhero--or maybe the little dog simply wasn't fooled by his disguise as the rest of them were.
Pulling herself back to the present, Lois cleared her throat and spoke loud enough for the people immediately around her to hear.
"Superman! Yes, we're fine. I don't know if there's really a fire, but I guess the fire department will find out soon enough."
A sheepish look flickered through Clark's eyes at her words, and she realized he understood the hidden meaning behind her words--that he was wearing his heart for her on his sleeve. That realization seemed to jog Clark's awareness and his sense of duty because he glanced more business-like at the arriving fire personnel behind him.
"Right," he said, putting his hands on his hips and doing his best to look very superhero-ish for the onlooking crowd. He turned his attention to the fire chief still standing nearby and explained, "I was handling an emergency not far from here and heard the sirens. Can I help?"
The fire chief nodded, realizing the job would get done much faster with the help of the superhero. "We'd love some help. If you could go in with a few of my guys..."
The rest of the fire chief's instructions were lost to Lois as he and Superman walked toward the building and out of ear shot, leaving Lois--and the crowd of people around them--staring after him. Lois felt Agnes brush up against her, and she turned to see the elderly woman smiling up at her as she stroked her now-quieted dog.
"I don't think Princess cares for him much, but he's quite handsome in person, don't you think?" Agnes commented, her eyes twinkling. But then she seemed to realize what she'd said and quickly backtracked. "But not as handsome as your Clark, though. Nobody's that handsome." Then she winked, and turned her attention to another elderly woman who had joined them.
Lois could only smile to herself as she turned back to watch Clark in action. Superman had quickly become one of the crew, going in and out of the building and checking each floor to make sure the building was safe. Finally, the fire chief called the all-clear.
Agnes and her elderly friend joined the other tenants as they started returning to their apartments, but Lois hung back on the sidewalk a distance from the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clark. At last she spotted him walking out of the building through the thinning crowd. Their eyes met, and some undecipherable emotion flickered across his face.
He glanced around at the few people remaining outside, then turned and started to walk across the lawn toward the right side of the building. She watched him curiously without moving, uncertain whether she should approach him and possibly create speculation about their involvement after their earlier scene.
Her eyes never left him as he reached the corner of the building. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he inclined his head for her to follow in an almost unnoticeable gesture. Then he opened the side door of the building marked "emergency exit only' and disappeared inside.
Lois waited several beats, then looked around to make sure nobody was watching. When she was sure nobody was, she crossed the lawn wordlessly and went around the corner of the building where he'd disappeared moments before. She opened the emergency exit door and slipped inside, immediately spotting Clark--still dressed as Superman--waiting for her in the stairwell.
She glanced around to make sure they were alone before speaking openly. "So, what happened?" she asked with concern. "What set off the--"
Before she could finish her sentence, Clark surprised her by grabbing her around the waist and pushing up against the stairwell wall. Her startled yelp turned into a giggle as he captured her lips hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in his kiss.
After a couple of minutes of intense kissing, they finally pulled apart, breathless. She looked up at him, grinning. "And hello to you, too."
He chuckled, the sound of his deep, throaty laughter causing her heart to pound. "I missed you today."
"And I missed you." She leaned in for another kiss, then snuggled up against the firm wall of his chest. Then she remembered the earlier scene, when his concern for her had overridden his ability to present himself as a detached helper.
She pulled back and looked at him sternly. "As happy as I am to see you, what were you thinking, coming here like that? You're always drilling it into my head that we need to be careful not to allow anyone to make a romantic connection between us, but you swoop onto the scene and come rushing over to me. That wasn't exactly discreet."
He looked sufficiently chastised as he dropped his hands to his side. "I know. When I heard the sirens on the phone and heard you say the word 'fire,' I just reacted without thinking. I'm sorry."
She softened. Then a slow smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Well, I'm willing to forgive you if you'll let the record show that I'm not the only one rushing recklessly into certain situations. I reserve the right to refer to this incident the next time you scold me for being impetuous."
He rolled his eyes, then chuckled. "Okay, fine. I suppose I have that coming."
Lois stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips in a sign of forgiveness, then turned back to the reason for his arrival. "So, what happened? Was there a fire anywhere?"
He shook his head. "No. We checked everywhere for hot spots, but there was nothing. They think one of the detectors on the third floor had shorted out, making the systems think there was a fire in the building."
"That's good to hear. I'm glad there was no real danger." She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she smiled up at him mischievously. "And just so you know, Agnes thinks Superman is very handsome in person."
Clark laughed. "Well, you'll have to tell her I'm already spoken for."
The thought of Clark being involved with her elderly neighbor made Lois crack up, and the intimacy of their stolen moment together was gone.
Clark glanced at the stairs, then turned back to her. "Since Agnes is probably waiting for you upstairs, why don't you go on up and I'll meet you there in a minute? You're right that we need to be more careful."
"And showing up at my apartment in that Suit isn't going to raise some suspicions?" she challenged with a mischievous look in her eyes.
"Not if I'm mingling around with the fire crew and look like I'm making sure the building is safe before I leave. Then when nobody is looking, you can let me into your apartment."
She crossed her arms and flashed him a teasing grin. "Who says I want to let you into my apartment?"
"Lo-is." He put his hands on his hips. "Are you through tormenting me?" Then his voice changed to a low growl as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Besides, you can't tell me a few minutes of intense kissing before I have to go doesn't sound appealing." He lowered his head to press fiery hot kisses along her neck, as if proving what could be in store for her.
Her eyes fluttered closed at his kiss, and her heart began to thump so loudly she was sure he could hear it even without super powers. She tilted her head, stretching her neck to allow him better access, and lifted her hands to his chest.
"Mmm," she murmured, allowing herself the luxury of his intimate gesture for another few moments. Then she finally managed to push herself away, trying not to be seduced right then and there by the intense passion she saw in his gaze. "You talked me into it," she told him with a grin. "Meet me upstairs in five minutes."
Clark smiled approvingly, then watched as she started up the stairs, giving him one last grin over her shoulder before turning on the landing and disappearing up the next set of stairs. He shook his head. She was really something.
But she was also right. After everything they had shared last night--and then this morning--he wasn't being as successful as he'd like about hiding his feelings for her. He was going to have to be more careful.
'Just as you're always telling her,' the little voice in the back of his head chastised.
Clark grimaced. He was going to have to find a way to maintain a business-like appearance when he was around her. But he knew that wasn't going to be easy. She did things to his insides whenever she was near, and all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and revel in her closeness. But he couldn't. Not as Superman, anyway.
Sighing at how complicated the whole situation was becoming, he headed back out the emergency exit and walked around to the front of the building.
He stopped in the lobby and offered to join up with the several members of the fire crew who were performing their final inspections of the building. They searched each floor, taking one last look to make sure everything was safe. There was nothing out of the ordinary. But when he and two other firemen reached the fifth floor, a feeling of uneasiness settled around Clark as the elevators doors opened onto a disturbing scene.
Lois, Agnes, and three other tenants had gathered in the hall outside Lois's apartment door looking frightened and chattering nervously to one of the firemen. He could hear Princess's hysterical yapping coming from the other side of Agnes's apartment door. The fireman nodded at whatever the one neighbor said, then he took off running down the hall. His eyes darted around at the apartment entrances and alcoves as he went, and it was clear he was looking for somebody.
Clark's gaze darted back to Lois's and he was surprised to see a look of fear in her eyes. His heart started to pound. His previous resolve to do better to hide his feelings for her when they were around other people fell to the wayside, and he was at her side in an instant. "Lois, what's wrong? What happened?"
Agnes spoke up before Lois could. "There was a man in Lois's apartment. He came barreling out as soon as we came out of the elevator. He was dressed in a gray janitor-looking uniform, with lots of pockets. I think he had some kinds of tools hanging in a tool belt, too."
"What!" Clark's eyes widened and his face paled. "Just now? You saw him coming out?"
Agnes nodded vigorously. "Steve and I did." She nodded at the middle-aged man standing beside her.
Steve nodded. "I saw the guy, and he was definitely not the building's janitor. I know Hal, and it wasn't him. The guy took off a-runnin' when he saw we spotted him."
His heart in his throat, Clark looked at the other fireman still waiting with the group. "Watch her," he directed, his tone firm and authoritative. "Don't let anyone go into the apartment until I get back to check it out."
And with that, he became of blur of red and blue as he shot down the hallway to assist the other fireman in the search for the intruder.
When he returned a few minutes later, he noticed the small crowd was waiting for him anxiously.
"Did you find him?" Lois asked, her eyes hopeful.
He frowned and shook his head. "There's no sign of anyone fitting that description. We gave a statement to one of the police officers downstairs, but they also want to talk to you, Steve." He nodded at the neighbor who had witnessed the crime. He turned his attention to Agnes. "And you, Agnes. They're waiting for you both in the lobby."
He saw Lois take in the worried look on Agnes's face, then reach for her arm. "I'll go with you, Agnes." They took a step toward the elevator, and Lois looked back over her shoulder at him questioningly.
"I'll search your apartment while you're gone, Miss Lane." He tried to keep his tone as business-like as possible this time. "I'll be waiting right here for you when you get back."
With a nod, Lois turned back to her elderly friend. "Don't worry about talking to the police, Agnes. I talk to them all the time. There's nothing to it."
Agnes smiled at that. "I'll bet you do, dear. It's just a shock one of them hasn't caught you yet in the middle of one of those reckless acts of yours."
Lois gasped, then looked back at Clark. He took one look at the surprise in her eyes and he couldn't help himself. He smiled. Apparently he wasn't the only person who thought Lois lived dangerously.
Glaring at him for the smile, Lois turned back to her friend. "Agnes! What exactly are you saying?"
Agnes patted Lois's hand and chuckled. "Dear, I may be old, but I'm not dense. Do you think I don't know how you manage to get all those scoops of yours? I doubt it's by following the rules--something you never seem to live by, anyway."
Clark bit back a laugh as he watched Lois's jaw drop open. "Agnes, I can't believe you're accusing me of--"
"Of what, dear? Breaking a few laws here and there? I know you too well, sweetie. You live for danger." Then Agnes turned to look at him, taking in the flowing cape and red boots, all a symbol of the superhero the world had come to know. Agnes winked at him. "You seem to be such a fine, upstanding young man, Superman. Maybe you could teach my Lois, here, a thing or two about keeping the rules, seeing that you stand for truth and justice, and would never dream of breaking the law."
A burst of laughter escaped Lois's lips. "Yeah, right," she snorted, but then quickly clamped her mouth shut as everyone turned to look at her. She glanced at Clark, giving him a 'we-both-know-better-don't-we?' look. The hint of a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"What?" Agnes asked, looking back and forth between them, her expression puzzled.
Shaking her head and smiling, Lois took Agnes by the arm and led her toward the elevator. "Agnes, my friend, don't even get me started."
~*~*~*~*~
When Lois returned with Agnes to the fifth floor after giving the police their statement, she helped Agnes into her apartment, then returned to hers. "Superman" was waiting inside for her.
"Is it safe?" she asked as she took a tentative step into the room.
When Clark nodded, she came the rest of the way in, making sure the door was shut and locked behind her. "So?" she asked.
Clark shrugged and looked around the room. "I can't find anything, Lois. No explosive devices, no threatening notes...nothing."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good news. If that guy wasn't trying to kill me, then what was he doing in my apartment?"
Clark frowned at her. "Don't say things like that, Lois."
"What? The part about him trying to kill me?" She rolled her eyes and went over to sit down on the couch. "Clark, something like that isn't exactly news. People have tried to kill me before. It's just part of the job."
Clark felt a chill go through him. "Well, I don't want it to be part of the job. Not anymore. Not when you're talking about the woman I love getting hurt. Or worse."
Lois looked up at him wearily and smiled. "Clark, I'll be fine. I've already promised you I'd be more careful. What else do you want from me? I can't exactly move to some unpopulated island for the rest of my life. This is a big city; break-ins happen. That guy probably heard the fire alarms and decided to take advantage of an evacuated building. Maybe he wasn't just in my apartment; maybe he was in dozens, looking for things to steal."
Realizing that made sense, Clark let himself relax. "Yeah, maybe." He came over to sit beside her. "I'd like to think this break-in was just some random occurrence, but we don't know that for sure. Let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary, would you?"
"I will," Lois promised.
Clark sat beside her on the couch, worry still nagging at his heart. "Maybe I should stay here tonight," he suggested anxiously. "To make sure you're okay."
"Clark, you can't spend every waking minute hovering around and protecting me," she said, lifting a hand to his cheek. "Besides, I'm sure the guy's long gone. And you didn't find anything out of place here, so I'm sure it's safe." She leaned in to kiss him, her lips lingering on his. When she pulled back, her eyes crinkled into a smile. "Unless you want to stay for a different reason." Then she slid a hand down his chest provocatively, giving him no doubt what she was suggesting.
A moan escaped Clark's lips as she leaned in to kiss him once more. The blissful, heady feeling he'd experienced that morning returned, and he lost himself in her kiss. Just as things moved quickly to the point of no return, he groaned in frustration and reached up to still her hand's movements. He caught the look of disappointment in her eyes as he pulled back.
"As much as I would love to spend another evening with you, Perry's got me up against a deadline. He put me on a story that he wants finished first thing in the morning. And it looks like you brought home some work, too." He nodded at huge stack of papers on the coffee table where Lois had set them when she'd gotten home. Then smiled. "Okay, a *lot* of work."
Lois sighed. "Yeah, it is. It's everything I could find on Trask, Project Bluebook, and UFO and meteorite sightings in 1966. I keep hoping to find something to tie this all into Lex."
Clark hesitated. "I'd like to stay to help you with it, but..."
"Go." Lois gave him a friendly push up off the couch. "You'd better go out the front way this time, though, since that's the way you came in. We wouldn't want anyone linking Superman to Lois Lane's window."
Chuckling at the twinkle in her eye, he held out his hand to help her up, then enveloped her once more in his arms. He buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply, savoring the clean, strawberry scent of her shampoo. Every time he had to leave her he found it harder than the last time. He knew there would probably come a day when he simply wouldn't be able to.
With a sigh, he let those unresolved thoughts of the future slip into the back of his mind once again and leaned down to give her one last kiss. "G'night," he whispered. "I'll call you tomorrow night, okay?"
She nodded. "Sounds great."
Then, with one last look, he was gone.
Lois sighed when she was once again alone, then turned and glanced apprehensively around her apartment. First the eerie feeling of being watched in the parking garage tonight, and now this. She shook her head. Things were definitely getting weird around here.
Pushing off from the door, she crossed the living room toward the very large stack of research awaiting her on the coffee table.
**********
Lois was too busy the next day to even remember Clark hadn't yet produced the reports on the meteorites he'd promised to show her from Bureau 39's warehouse.
News had leaked out about a scandal in the governor's office, with one of the governor's aides claiming he knew of several bribery attempts that had been made to get a bill passed. Nobody could prove the allegations as of yet, but one thing Lois knew for certain. Nothing excited the media more that the possibility of a scandal.
She joined the hundreds of other reporters and news crews on site, all clamoring to get the story. By the end of the day, she'd been thrilled that she'd been able to call in some favors and interview the governor exclusively. She had interviewed him before, and a tentative level of trust had previously been established, so she felt confident by the end of the interview that he really was telling the truth that he wasn't involved, as the aide claimed.
He'd given her some names of staff he suspected might be involved or had ulterior motives, and she'd managed to follow those leads, narrowing down the lists of suspects. By the evening edition, Lois had enough put together for a solid, riveting, front-page story with the information she'd gathered. Because she'd gotten the exclusive interview with the governor, they had information no other news source had.
And Jim Langley was ecstatic.
His hard-earned words of praise motivated her to continue working past quitting time. She was eager to get down her thoughts for the follow-up story Jim had requested for the next day, and also some ideas of who might also be tied into the scandal. If anybody could get to the bottom of this, it was she. And there was no way she was going to let a night's sleep wipe the thoughts from her mind.
It wasn't until almost nine that Lois finally turned off her computer, gathered up her attache, and slipped into her overcoat. Even as tired as she was from the fast-paced day, she found herself in a heady daze. It was days like these that she was glad she'd become a journalist. She, Lois Lane, was a force to be reckoned with, and it felt great to be making a difference in the world.
Her feet barely touched the ground as she stepped off the elevator in the Chronicle's parking garage and practically floated to her car. She was so wrapped up in her moment of glory that she didn't notice the dark car parked down the aisle from hers, or the large, burly man that stepped out of the shadows as she passed.
With one swift move the man was upon her, clamping a hand over her mouth to silence her startled scream. He quickly dragged her around the corner and threw her up backwards, her head connecting with the concrete retaining wall.
Lois felt the world swim around her, and she thought for a moment she was going to lose consciousness. But then her mind cleared, and she glanced up at her assailant's stockinged face just as he grabbed her by the throat and hefted her to her feet. The next thing she knew, the hard metal of a gun's barrel was being pressed to her temple.
She grabbed for the man's hands on her throat as she struggled for breath, but the man's grip only tightened more firmly around her windpipe. He shoved her back against the wall once more and loomed closer, his disguised face only inches from hers.
Then he spoke, his deep, menacing voice relaying his message. "I hear you've been investigating Bureau 39 and Mesopotamia's corporation. My boss doesn't appreciate pesky reporters like you. You're bad for business. So back off your investigation. Or else."
His last threat sent chills up Lois's spine, and she knew without a doubt that the men behind his message were serious.
She felt the man lower his gun from her temple, and quickly took advantage of it. Letting her self defense training take over, she brought a knee up forcefully and connected with his groin. He let out a strangled cry from behind his mask and doubled over, and Lois quickly jerked her knee up, connecting with his face.
The man grabbed for his nose as red started to appear on his gray mask, and Lois took a step back. Then in one fast, angry motion, the man lifted the butt of the gun and brought it hard down along the side of her head.
Instantly the world started to ebb and sway around her, and her vision blurred as she slumped to the ground. Through her haze, she heard the sound of retreating footsteps and knew her assailant was gone.
For several moments Lois lay still, the cold concrete of the parking garage floor pressing against her cheek. It wasn't long before her vision started to clear and the feeling of nausea began to dissipate.
She sat up shakily, using her arms to stabilize herself as the garaged swayed precariously around her. Hoping somebody might have noticed her attack, she listened for sounds of approaching help, but heard nothing. Not even the sound of a passing car. It was late, and she knew that the day staff was probably already gone, and the night staff had already arrived.
Deciding to call for help, she reached her cell phone--only to realize she'd left it in her desk upstairs. She swore under her breath. Great. This was just great.
Feeling a little stronger, she crawled a few steps to the retaining wall and used it to help her struggle to her feet. The wooziness instantly returned, and she grasped at the metal railing along the top with trembling hands. A wetness on the side of her cheek startled her, and she reached up to touch it. When she drew her hand back, she gasped when she saw the red substance on her fingertips.
Blood. She was bleeding. And bleeding heavily, from the looks of it.
Lois tried not to panic. She reminded herself that head wounds tended to bleed a lot, and she was probably fine.
She pressed her hand to her head to try to stop the bleeding, and found herself facing a moment of indecision. She glanced back toward the elevators, but realized they were clear across the parking lot. She wasn't sure she felt up to walking all that way, only to have some night staffer run around in a panic when she appeared in the newsroom in her condition. Turning to her right, she noticed she was only a few yards away from her car.
In one moment the decision had been made. The car, and then home. Her apartment was only several blocks from the Chronicle, and at this time of night, the traffic would be light. She'd be home sooner than she'd be able to make her way shuffling across the parking lot to the elevators. But as soon as she made the decision, common sense filtered in and she wondered if it would be smart to try to drive herself home in the condition she was in. Was it safe? What if she blacked out?
Deciding to listen to her body for her answer, she let go of the metal bar and took a test step forward. She was surprised to discover the wooziness was subsiding, and she actually felt more stable. With careful steps, she continued to walk to her car, relieved to discover she felt a little better with every step. By the time she was at her car door, she made the decision to drive. She'd be okay.
She fumbled for the key in her overcoat pocket, then unlocked the car and climbed in. She kept her free hand pressed to the side of her head where she thought the bleeding was coming from, then used her free hand to inset the key and turn on the ignition.
She steered the car carefully through the empty parking lot and out onto the street. Thankfully, she'd been right about the traffic being light, and was able to manage her way home without incident. When she pulled into her apartment's underground parking lot, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was here. All she had to do was make it up to her apartment and everything would be okay.
She stepped into the elevator and hesitated, staring at the lighted control panel of buttons. Briefly, she considered stopping at the ground floor to see if the nighttime security guard could help her. But then she changed her mind and punched the button for her floor. At that moment, the only person she wanted was Clark.
The elevator began to rise, and the sudden upward movement left her grabbing for the compartment's handle to steady herself. In an instant, the nausea and wooziness returned. Tears blurred her vision as she silently prayed for the elevator to hurry.
When the doors finally opened, she was relieved to discover the hall was empty. Explanations for her appearance were the last thing she wanted to give right then. Fumbling with her keys, she managed to unlock her door and let herself in.
On unsteady feet, she shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed the hand towel sitting on the island. Then she turned slowly and opened the freezer, extracting several ice cubes and placing them in the towel. Wincing as she pressed the roughly constructed ice pack to her temple, she reached for cordless phone and punched in the number she had long since committed to memory.
**********
Clark touched down inside his apartment, having just returned from a flight over the city. A frown marred his handsome features. He'd been busy today, but no matter how busy he kept himself by working on the stories he'd been assigned, he simply couldn't shake the discomforting feeling that something was wrong.
All evening he'd had a sense of dread, prompting him two different times to fly over the city to see if he could spot anything out of the ordinary. But nothing was. It wasn't until he was on his way home that it dawned on him that maybe something was wrong with Lois.
The unsettled feeling returned with a vengeance, and he found himself hurrying into the kitchen for the phone. He dialed her apartment first, but there was no answer. He hung up, then dialed her cell number. Still no answer.
He glanced at his watch. It was almost nine her time, and he'd told her he'd call tonight. Where was she? Surely she wouldn't still be working. He knew she was a workaholic, but he'd come to know she usually left work at a decent hour, then worked from home the rest of the evening. So why wasn't she answering either of her phones?
.
The silent hand of fear clenched at his heart as he remembered the intruder in her apartment last night. Could something be wrong? Could she be in some kind of trouble?
Clark tried both her phone numbers one more time, his brow furrowing when he still received no answer. He set the phone roughly down onto the counter in frustration, then stood there in his kitchen, trying to decide what to do.
He didn't want her to think he didn't trust her enough to take care of herself. She already knew he worried about her, and he wasn't sure she would appreciate him swooping into the city and trying to track her down. What if she was just out for a bite to eat with friends?
But then that sense of fear seeped back into his soul. Yes, maybe she was just out running errands or having dinner. But what if she wasn't? What if something *had* happened?
He had just about made up his mind to fly out there to track her down, regardless of whatever lecture she may give him on his suffocating behavior, when the ringing of his phone stopped him in his tracks.
His breath caught in his throat as he picked up the phone and stared down at the Caller ID screen on the handset.
It was Lois.
Heaving a monumental sigh of relief, he clicked the phone on. "Lois!" he answered without bothering with the formality of 'hello.' "I was worried about you. Where have you been?"
When he didn't hear anything from her end of the line, he frowned. "Lois? Are you there?"
After a moment, Clark thought he detected a muffled noise, and furrowed his brow in concentration. Then he heard her voice.
"Clark--" she began, and instantly he could tell she was crying.
His heart tightened in his chest. "Lois?" he asked, his tone urgent. "What's wrong? What happened?"
He heard her try again. "I--I need you. Can you come over? I got hurt..."
Clark felt his stomach turn, and he struggled to breathe as he said his next words. "Lois, don't move. I'll be right there." He barely managed to slam the phone into the cradle before he was flying out his window, glad he hadn't yet changed out of his Suit. It wasn't even a minute later, though it seemed like an eternity, when he was landing on her terrace and opening the sliding glass door.
"Lois?" Her apartment was mostly dark, but even with his enhanced vision he didn't detect any movement. "Lois?" he repeated.
Just then he heard his quietly spoken name, and he followed the sound into the kitchen. Motion near the floor off to his right caught his eye, and he let out involuntary gasp when he turned and spotted Lois sitting on the floor with her back up against the fridge. She was holding a wet hand towel with ice wrapped inside it to her temple, and rivulets of blood had dried along the side of her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he could tell she'd been crying.
"Lois!" His heart lurched as he rushed toward her, not bothering to shut the glass door behind him. "What happened?"
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. Her voice was choked with emotion as she explained. "There was this guy in the parking garage. He grabbed me and shoved me up against the wall, then put a gun to my head. He told me to back off the investigation...or else."
The muscle in Clark's jaw twitched and the rush of anger was evident in his eyes as he lowered himself to the floor beside her. This was exactly what he had been worried about, and now it had happened. Lois had gotten hurt, and there had been nothing he could do about it.
"Obviously somebody thinks we're getting too close," he said, trying to push aside the encompassing feeling of guilt as he reached for the ice pack. "How bad is this? Let me take a look."
She released her grip on the towel and let him lift the ice pack from her temple. Clark bit his tongue to keep from gasping. There was a large gash about three inches long, and the surrounding skin was already beginning to color. She was going to have an awful bruise. But at least it looked like the bleeding had stopped.
With gentle fingers, he touched the area around the cut gently, trying to see how deep it was and determining whether or not she was going to need stitches. She flinched at his probing, and he immediately jerked his hand back.
"Sorry," he murmured, his voice gentle and reassuring. Then, in an effort to distract her as he examined the cut, he asked, "So how did this happen? Did you hit your head on the wall when the guy threw you?"
Lois shook her head, then stopped quickly when she realized it only made the throbbing in her head increase. "He was choking me, so I used some of my self defense training and kicked him. He let me go, but it must have pissed him off because he hit me with his gun before taking off running."
"You kicked him?!" Clark exclaimed incredulously, his gaze shifting to her face. "What, in the shin or something?"
In spite of herself, the memory brought the hint of a smile to Lois's lips. "No, I kicked him in the groin, then kneed him in the face while he was bent over."
As hard as he tried not to, Clark let a laugh slip out. Yeah, what she'd done was stupid, but somehow he wasn't surprised. It seemed like a very Lois thing to do.
But then he managed to pull himself back together and gave her a worried look. "As much as I would have loved to be there to see you take this guy out, Lois, what if he had shot you?"
Lois rolled her eyes and pressed the ice pack Clark had abandoned back to her temple. She winced at the pressure. "Clark, he wasn't going to kill me or he obviously would have done that in the first place," she muttered, closing her eyes to stem the fresh pain. "Whoever hired him just told him to scare me, that's all."
His heart aching for what she'd been through, Clark put his hand on her arm gently. "I'm sorry, Lois. I should have been there. If I had, this would have never happened."
Lois opened her tear-filled eyes and studied his guilt-filled expression. She shook her head. "Clark, this isn't your fault. You can't be with me every second of every day. We have our own lives to lead, and even if we lived in the same city, this could have happened. You can't blame yourself."
Tears gathered in Clark's eyes at her words, but only a portion of his guilt fled. "But this is getting too dangerous, Lois. Somebody knows we're getting close, and I don't want to see you get hurt again. Maybe you should let this go and let me get to the bottom of this one."
Lois's eyes flashed indignantly. "Don't you dare tell me to back down from this investigation, Clark. It's *ours*. And the fact that somebody did this to me tells me we *are* getting close. Besides, if we back down, they've won. Is that what you want?"
"No." Clark shook his head. His voice grew tender as he continued. "But I worry you're going to get killed one of these days. If you don't get yourself killed, you're going to kill me from all the worrying I do about you."
Lois's indignant demeanor slipped a bit at his tender declaration. She didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't say anything. Finally, Clark sighed and reached once again for her ice pack.
When he looked under it a second time, studying the depth of the cut, he frowned. He knew she wouldn't like it, but he thought it might be deep enough to warrant stitches.
She suddenly moved under his hand, shifting her position on the hard tile. He glanced down at her and saw that she was starting to look a little pale. "Lois, are you okay? You suddenly don't look so good."
"Gee, thanks," she murmured with only a hint of her usual sarcasm, letting her heavy eyelids fall shut. "I'll be okay. I just feel a little sick to my stomach, that's all."
Clark's frown deepened. "Have you felt this way for long?"
She nodded almost imperceptibly without opening her eyes. "I've felt pretty woozy and nauseated since he hit me."
An invisible hand clenched around Clark's heart. Too many things pointed to the possibility of a concussion. And he knew that concussions weren't something to be messed with.
He put a hand on her arm lightly, hoping his worry for her didn't show so clearly in his eyes. "Lois, I think we should get you to a hospital. They can take a look at you and determine if you have a concussion, and whether or not this gash of yours is going to need some stitches."
Lois's response was immediate. Her eyes flew open and a panicked look darted across her face. "No!" she exclaimed with even more vehemence than he'd expected. "I'm not going to a hospital. I'm okay, really. Anybody's head would hurt if they'd been hit with the butt of a gun. Besides, you've taken first aid classes, right? Just help me put a butterfly bandage on my cut and I'll be fine."
Clark's brow furrowed as he considered her reaction. He assumed she'd be stubborn about seeing a doctor, but he hadn't expected panic. Shoving the thought aside for the moment, he focused on convincing her. "But you're feeling sick to your stomach," he pointed out, trying to keep his tone soft yet firm. "What if you have a concussion?"
She clenched her jaw, her expression determination. "Clark, I am not going to the hospital," she insisted, emphasizing each word.
Clark felt the muscle in his jaw flinch. He had no idea what this sudden case of hospital phobia was all about, but this was one battle he was not going to lose. Even if he had to bring out the big guns.
"Okay, fine," he began, a quiet note of determination in his voice. "Then I think this calls for a second opinion--a tiebreaker of sorts. Let me go get Agnes."
When he started to rise to his feet, Lois's eyes widened even further and she grabbed for his arm. "No! Clark, Agnes worries about me enough as it is. She'll get mad when she finds out when happened, and launch into her speech about how dangerous it is for a woman in the city, and how I shouldn't have gone into that parking garage alone. She's always telling me I'm too stubborn to consider those things."
The muscle twitched in Clark's jaw once again. "That makes two of us."
Lois glared at him, but Clark wasn't to be intimidated. He squatted back down beside her and put his hand on her leg. "Then if you don't want both Agnes and me ganging up on you, just say you'll let me take you in to get looked at. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you don't have a concussion. Maybe you don't need stitches. But wouldn't it be better to be safe than sorry?"
He watched Lois for a long moment as she was clearly weighing out his argument in her mind. Finally a look of resignation appeared in her eyes and she nodded grimly. "Fine, let's go. But just so you know, I'm not happy about this."
~*~*~*~*~
Two hours later, Clark touched down on Lois's terrace. He glanced down at the woman he was cradling carefully in his arms. A large, white bandage covered her temple, and the medication they had given her had made her groggy and drowsy. She barely opened her eyes as he shifted her in his arms to open the sliding glass door.
He floated her to her bedroom in an effort to keep from jarring her, then set her down gently on her bed without bothering to turn on the lights. Concern for this woman he loved so deeply threatened to consume him as he looked down at her, studying the pallor to her cheeks from the stream of moonlight filtering through the curtains.
Lifting a hand to her face, he traced his fingertips along her cheekbone, careful not to touch the large bandage covering her newly acquired stitches. Fifteen stitches, to be exact. And his suspicions had been correct. She had a concussion, as well.
Clark had changed out of his Suit upon arrival at the ER and stayed with her as one of the doctors examined her. When the doctor determined she did indeed have a concussion, he had wanted to keep her overnight for observation, but Lois wouldn't hear of it. No amount of coaxing on his or the doctor's part had been able to convince her to stay, so the doctor had given Clark strict instructions that she not be left alone for the next twenty-four hours, and that she got lots of rest.
Knowing that he could afford a sick day and that Superman's duties could wait a day or two for the woman he loved, Clark quickly volunteered to oversee her care at home. Only then had Lois relaxed. He'd watched her solemnly as she'd sat on the ER table waiting for care, noticing that every small beep from a monitor or message sounding from the intercom would make her jump. She'd seemed even more nauseated sitting there in the ER than she had back at her apartment--and he didn't think it had much to do with her injuries.
It hadn't been hard to put two-and-two together and realize she was thinking about the last time she'd been in a hospital. If her obvious hospital phobia was any indication, that last time had probably been the night she'd lost the three most important people in her life.
As he looked down at her now, almost asleep on her bed, her face pale against the white of her sheets, his heart clenched painfully. After seeing how anxious she'd been at the hospital, he had no doubt that the death of her family must have been even more traumatic than she'd let on in their brief conversations about her loss.
He let his hand slip from her cheek as he turned and reached for the blanket folded at the foot of her bed. With a flip of his wrists, he unfolded it and gently spread it over her. He hated to leave her in her clothes, but he hated the thought of jostling her around as he got her changed even more. She needed to sleep. And sleep was what he would let her do.
Crossing the darkened room, he found the shorts and T-shirt Lois had loaned him the night before and changed quietly. Then he walked quietly back to the bed and slipped under the blanket beside her. With a troubled sigh, he scooted closer to her, slipping his arm around her waist and placing his hand on her stomach. He felt her snuggle back against him, and his grip tightened around her protectively.
He hadn't been able to be there for her earlier to stop her attack, but he was able to be here now. And he would do everything in his power to make sure she got better.
~*~*~*~*~
Lois stirred a couple hours later, her mind foggy and her head throbbing. She tried to open her heavy eyelids, but the grogginess seemed to weigh down upon her, making even the simplest tasks seem impossible.
She finally managed to glance around the darkened room, and in a flash, the evening came rushing back. Tears filled her eyes as she raised her hand to her head, her fingertips brushing against the thick bandage there. She could almost feel the prick of the needle in spite of the numbing medication they had given her, and each tug of the doctor's thread brought back the memory of another night she wished she could forget.
The beeping of the machines and the urgent voices of the ER made her blood run cold, and if she'd felt able, she would have leapt down from the table and run out of the cold, white room, never looking back.
Clark had no way of knowing, but he had taken her to the very hospital she'd been in after her accident...the accident that had eventually claimed all the members of her family. She had vowed to never set foot inside those doors again, yet there she was, sitting in the very ER she'd been taken to that night.
Thankfully the pain medication they gave her had taken effect quickly, numbing both her body and her mind, and relieving the latter of the images she wished she wanted nothing more than to forget. She barely remembered Clark gathering her into his arms outside the hospital, and the feel of the cold night air on her face as he flew her home. After that, though, her mind was blank.
For the last few hours she'd been able to lose herself in a drugged sleep, but the pounding and throbbing was now back with a vengeance, and she swallowed hard to force back the nausea that threatened.
She rolled over in bed, wincing as even that simple movement brought a stabbing pain to her head. For what seemed like an eternity, she continued to lie there, forcing back the nausea and urging the throbbing in her head to subside. But it didn't. It only seemed to grow worse.
Realizing she was never going to get back to sleep with this amount of pain, she struggled to remember if they'd filled the pain medication prescription the doctor had written her. She frowned in concentration. Had they stopped at the hospital pharmacy to fill it? Or was the fogginess in her mind simply making her remember something they hadn't done?
If they had filled the prescription, she assumed Clark would have put them into the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink. She shifted slightly to eye the bathroom door. It seemed like ti was a miles away. But finally she decided her head hurt enough to go look, so she rolled over and started to sit up.
She immediately regretted the action as a stabbing pain shot through her head, sending a flood of unwanted memories rushing into her brain. She'd had a concussion once before--on the night of the accident. But it had been overshadowed by the pain of a rough ambulance ride, surgery, and the loss of her parents and sister. This time, though, the pain in her head was only rivaled by the pain in her heart as her visit to the hospital where she'd lost her family sent the memories crashing down around her.
Images began to assault her, causing the room to dip and sway around her: her parents' lifeless bodies being pulled from the wreckage and covered by black tarps beside the car, her sister laying so still in the hospital bed...the doctor coming to tell her the next morning after her anesthesia from surgery had worn off that her sister had succumbed to her injuries.
A sob caught in her throat, and she hurried to stifle it, very much aware of Clark sleeping in the bed with her. She lifted a shaking hand to cover her mouth, but realized she couldn't stop the tears from coming. Moving stiffly to the edge of the bed, she reached out for the nightstand to steady herself as she rose to her feet. As quiet as she tried to be, though, she heard Clark stir.
"Lois?" he asked sleepily, his tone concerned.
Making sure she kept her tear-streaked face turned away, she mumbled something about having to go to the bathroom, then hurried across her bedroom to the bathroom. She shut the door quietly, then flipped on the light, immediately regretting it as the bright lights sent a thousand stabbing needles into her skull.
The flow of tears increased as she squinted against the light and crossed over to the medicine cabinet. She rummaged through the vitamin jars and miscellaneous over-the-counter pain reliever medications on the shelves, but she didn't see a prescription pain medication there.
Not caring what kind of pain medication she took at this point, she reached for the jar of ibuprofen and fumbled with the lid. The tears flowed faster as she fought with the safety lid, unable to focus her bleary eyes enough on aligning the arrows. Finally she gave up, slamming the bottle down in frustration on the sink.
Her shoulders slumped as she started to weep openly. It was all just too much. She sat down on the closed toilet lid beside the sink, dropped her forehead onto her crossed arms along the cool counter top, and started to sob quietly.
Moments later there was a quiet knock on the door. Then came Clark's concerned voice. "Lois? Are you okay?"
Lois swallowed hard, trying to quiet the sob in her throat. She didn't bother to lift her head from her arms, knowing he'd be able to hear her soft response, and murmured, "I'm fine. Just give me a minute."
There was silence from the other side of the bathroom door, and Lois wondered if Clark had gone back to bed. But then she heard the worried tone in his voice as he spoke through the door again. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Angered by his persistence during a moment she preferred to keep private, she lifted her head from her arms and glared through her tears at the door. "I'm fine, okay? Just leave me alone." The sob she'd been trying to hold back slipped out, and she dropped her head back onto her arms. "Just leave me alone," she repeated on a whisper as the sobs came once again.
She barely heard Clark's firm declaration of "I'm coming in" before she felt his hands on her back and arm. Sensing his sympathy through his gentle touch, her shoulders started to shake as her sobs increased, and she felt him pull her against the soothing wall of his chest.
Suddenly grateful for the strong arms around her, she slipped her arms around his waist and held him tightly, afraid that if she let him go she might lose him, too. She sobbed for what felt like hours--for herself and her pain, for the death of her sister, for the death of her parents. For a night that had altered her life so dramatically that she knew she doubted she would ever fully recover.
When her sobs finally subsided into gentle hiccups, she lifted her cheek from Clark's chest and wiped at hear tears self-consciously. "I'm sorry," she muttered, embarrassed. "This is such a girl thing to do."
"What is?" He looked down at her in confusion. "Crying?"
She nodded.
"No, it's not," he consoled, slipping his hand beneath her curtain of hair and massaging her neck. "You've just been through a scary experience, and you're hurt. Nobody's going to think any less of you for crying, let alone me."
She sighed deeply and put her hand to her throbbing forehead. "I feel awful," she conceded miserably. "I came in here to get something for the pain, but I couldn't get the stupid lid off the bottle..." She gestured hopelessly at the jar on the counter.
"Then why didn't you ask?" came Clark's gentle rebuke. "That's what I'm here for."
"To open Advil bottles?"
He smiled softly as he wiped the stray tears from her cheek with his thumb. "That, too, but mostly just to be here for you." After a moment, he leaned down to press a loving kiss into her hair. "We filled your pain medication prescription before we left the hospital. It's still in the kitchen where I set it down. Let's get you back to bed and I'll get you a couple pills."
Too worn out to argue, she let Clark help her back into bed. He left the room and was back moments later with two pills and a glass of water. He helped her sit up a bit so she could swallow the medication, then took the empty glass from her and helped her lie back down. He smoothed her hair back from her face and bent to kiss her softly.
When she was situated, he went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. She rolled over and snuggled into his chest, the grogginess beginning to set back in.
"This evening has all been too much," she whispered wearily. "That guy in the garage...the hospital..."
Her voice broke, and instantly Clark knew her tears from before were not simply about the pain medication. Wordlessly, his tightened his arms around her protectively. "I understand," he murmured gently.
And in that moment, Lois realized he did. Knowing she didn't have to explain her tender emotions, she stayed in the comforting circle of Clark's arms for a long time. Finally, sleep came, and with it, a welcomed reprieve from the haunting memories.
~*~*~*~*~
to be continued in part 29...
