In a Better Place
When we last left our story:
A bolt of energy hit Clark in the chest, doubling him over. He pulled Lois closer, holding on for dear life. She was limp, as if her bones had melted. The walls of the small room fell away and there was a rush of wind so strong he thought idly of all of EPRAD’s files. They were going to be blown over city blocks, probably never recovered...
His vision was tunneling. The cold made him shiver. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t break away from where he was standing, though the floor was gone. He looked up, straight ahead, and caught one last look at the man called Tempus. He was pointing his ring at them- what looked to be a reddish light was shooting from a gem stone unlike any he’d ever seen. Tempus was laughing. Long, loud delighted laughter, which followed them into the darkness.
And now...
***
Margaret Charlotte Hathaway knew she was going to be demoted for this. Once the news got back to headquarters, there would be no way to avoid it. She spent about a half a second mourning her brand new office, her two administrative assistants, Pearl and Hank. Anna, her receptionist, who made excellent coffee and never missed filing a report.
She would lose them all, she knew. And that was as it should be. This was to have been an easy get. And while they did have Tempus, certain other rather critical factors were... well... missing.
“Where have you sent them?” she thundered to Tempus, who was barely visible under the large pile of coworkers who had dived onto him in the instant it had taken their heroes to disappear.
“Easy, Madge,” counseled Andrus, who was, as always, at the top of the heap, and thus in no danger of dirtying his garments. “Your blood pressure.”
She glowered as him as thoroughly as one who was Director of Peacekeeping was able. Being peaceful and unruffled at all times had its disadvantages. She gathered her robes and squatted down close enough to look Tempus in the eyes. “Where?”
He smirked. Madge waited. She knew he would tell her. He always did. Eventually.
Not being able to brag on his brilliance was the only real hardship for Tempus. The one thing he could not do. If just once, one time, he did something dreadful and didn’t boast about it, then her office would be in real trouble. As well as her world. So far, though, that had never happened.
Tempus continued to look cheerful, despite the hundreds of pounds of wiggly humans on top of him. Madge got comfortable.
“Since you have a hand free,” she addressed Andrus through gritted teeth, “have a glimpse at your soul tracer, will you, dear?”
Grateful to be excused from anything remotely close to violence, Andrus scrambled down and unhooked the small device from his belt.
“It will be easier on you if you just tell me,” Madge said.
“Easy is boring, darlin’,” Tempus returned dryly. “You people never get that.”
“They aren’t registering,” said Andrus faintly.
“What?” The mass on top of Tempus stopped concentrating on pushing him into the floor and gasped in horror.
“Don’t let him up,” Madge snapped, shooting to her feet and seizing the soul tracer from Andrus’s trembling hands. “I’m sure it’s just a malfunction. Of course they are *somewhere.*”
“They don’t register,” said Andrus again, his face a deathly shade of pale.
“Stop saying that,” she hissed, casting a glance over at the now very nervous tower on Tempus. “Did someone think to take his ring off?” she called out, just to distract them.
Much wiggling ensued, along with a string of colorful curses from the man at the bottom. Madge closed her eyes. Honestly. Tempus shoots their founders into who knows where, and no one takes the beam? If the elders didn’t fire her for some reason, she’d do it herself.
They weren’t registering. The two vibrant souls whose status she had checked on the hour for nearly two years were gone. Just like that. Madge steeled herself, tried to keep her voice firm and no nonsense. “Killing the Kents wasn’t very creative.”
The cries that filled the air were terrible, but Madge didn’t acknowledge them. She kept her eyes on her target. “I thought you were too smart, too diabolical for anything so simple.”
“They are as good as dead, Mags,” Tempus said smugly.
“As good as dead, but not... completely dead?” Madge pushed. “How do I know that for sure?”
“Because completely dead wouldn’t be nearly as much fun,” Tempus answered, and Madge relaxed infinitesimally. He was proud of himself. He had found a way to outwit the soul tracer and it would kill him not to tell her about it.
“Very clever, then,” she added to get the ball rolling.
“You have no idea.” Tempus beamed.
“Give me a hint,” she coaxed with a kindly smile.
“I’ve sent them someplace out of reach. A place so obvious I hate that I didn’t think of it the first dozen times. The one place that unravels all of Utopia.”
“Amazing,” Madge marveled. “How ever did you find such a place?”
Tempus ignored her, addressing the pile-up on his chest, instead. “Ladies and gentlemen, your world is ending.”
He seemed to enjoy the effect his pronouncement had on them, because he got one leg and one arm free.
“Hold him!” Madge barked. “And for God’s sakes, somebody tie his hands!” She probably could have said that nicer, but good heavens, someone should have thought of it.
“Where have you sent them?” She was finished playing his game.
“Rest easy, Madge. They’ve gone on to a better place,” Tempus intoned solemnly. “Let’s all take a moment to remember them, shall we?”
***
Lois woke up when the rock underneath her groaned and moved. The sensation was weird enough to force her eyes open.
First things first. It wasn’t a rock. Which made a bit more sense. It was a man in bright blue spandex, which made... slightly less sense than a moving rock. But still, that’s what it was, so she was going to have to work with it.
She pushed herself off his chest. It wasn’t easy. His arms were wrapped tightly around her.
“Hi,” she said when his eyes fluttered open and met hers.
She went still, watching him watch her. He smiled a lazy, slow smile. Said her name, pulled her closer... then bolted upright and disappeared.
“Sorry!” he called from a good distance away. “I didn’t mean, I mean, I wasn’t... uh... Sorry!”
“It’s... ok,” Lois said a bit breathlessly from the park bench she found herself sitting on.
Wait. A park bench...?
She looked around, confirming that first impression. It checked out. So far she had woken up on top of blue spandex guy, nearly drowned rapturously in his deep, dark brown eyes. And now she was here. On a bench. In Centennial Park. And he was standing some ten feet away looking... completely mortified.
Lois stood, then sank back down immediately when she felt the world spin.
“You ok?” He was back in front of her, one hand on her shoulder.
“Are you?” she returned, standing up much more slowly this time. “I know you weren’t taking advantage of me or anything. You weren’t, right?” She stopped, trying to remember the course of events that had led her to being on top of this guy in the middle of the day in the middle of the park.
She knew that she knew him. From the space transport. The bomb. EPRAD. After that, though, things got... blank.
He was still holding her by the arm as if she were fragile and might collapse at any moment. Though, oddly, he was the one who was shaking. “Look behind you,” he whispered, his face ashen.
She whirled around, expecting... she didn’t know what. But by the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, something really bad. Horror movie bad. Bloody hook in the car door kind of bad.
It was just a statue, though. Of him. A twelve foot high rendering of blue spandex guy. The cape was captured streaming out behind him. His stance was one of strength and confidence. His eyes looked over their heads, off into the distance, serene and dignified all at once. The symbol on his chest stood out in bold relief. And his torso and arms had been lovingly chiseled muscle by muscle.
“Wow,” she said, because even though she wasn’t an art lover, she thought maybe it was pretty good as far as likenesses went.
“Why would this be here?” the real man asked, still looking at it as if it really was the bloody hook in the car door.
“Well...” Lois frowned. “I guess because you’re a hero? But that was awfully fast, wasn’t it? It’s only been... My watch is broken. But whoever did it certainly didn’t waste any time. It’s good, though,” she added, not wanting to offend him.
He didn’t answer. He was moving towards it, shaking his head and studying his stone-cast likeness with what seemed to be grave embarrassment. The color on the back of his neck nearly matched his cape and boots.
He turned away from it, almost as if he couldn’t stand to look at it. “How did we get here, Lois?” he said, searching her face. “Do you remember? We were at EPRAD...” His voice faded. “It gets really fuzzy after that.”
“For me, too!” she exclaimed. “I remember you trying to wiggle out of my questions...”
The blush that had been subsiding from his face came right back. “Like a fish off a hook,” he confessed with an abashed grin. “You... scare me a little.”
“I do?” She returned his tentative smile with a big one of her own. “How about that?” she said, mostly to herself, though she didn’t mind if he heard her. “A guy who can lift space shuttles into orbit... afraid of me.” She tilted her head to the side, looking him over once more. “You’re not just strong, then. You’re smart, too.”
“Not smart enough to figure out how we got here, or how *this* could have.” He was back to studying the statue with a scowl.
“Could we have crashed?” Lois asked. “Remember you were going to fly me to work for a formal interview?”
He took his eyes off the statue and brought them back to hers. She wondered if she only imagined the amusement in them. That couldn’t be right. She hadn’t said anything funny.
“I never agreed to any formal interview,” he said. “We agreed that would wait.”
“Strange how two people can interpret things differently,” she said with a cavalier shrug. And this time she knew she hadn’t imagined it. He was trying not to laugh. “We aren’t far from the Daily Planet, so ... maybe you just... uh... missed the mark?”
“Missed the...?” The smile faded from his face quickly. “Do you think we fell?” he asked, alarm in his voice. “That I... dropped you?” He stepped towards her in a blur; she couldn’t follow him all the way in. He had been standing some distance from her, and in a blink, he was just there, his hands on her upper arms, his eyes trailing over her body rather intimately.
“Hey!” she said somewhat defensively. “Whatever you’re gawking at-”
“No broken bones, no head trauma, no internal bleeding,” he muttered, looking pale. “But... I don’t remember. And I’ve never just... fallen out of the sky. I’ve been flying since I was eighteen, and even then, even when I didn’t know how it worked, I never...”
“Why not until you were eighteen?” she asked quickly, trying unsuccessfully to extract herself from his firm grip. He didn’t even seem to notice. “Is that how old you have to be to get a license on your home planet?”
He dropped his hands and raised a startled expression to her intently curious one. “What?”
“I just wondered. Why the first flights at eighteen. You had to learn? Had to be licensed? Or maybe you were bitten by a radio-active spider?”
His gaze slid away from hers once more and became shuttered. She recognized that now. It was a defensive move. An “I don’t know how to answer what you just said without giving away something I don’t want to give away” sort of move. She, herself, had a million of them. But they were way better than his. Not nearly so obvious.
“Uh,” he said, and she stared at him harder, waiting. He gave her arms a soft squeeze and stepped back, looking around. “There is absolutely no litter here. That’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, this place is... immaculate. Where are the cigarette butts and beer cans that are always out here? And those flowers... and those... are new.”
He had been here before.
Lois jotted that down in her mental notebook. She’d get back to it. He had given something away, though. Something worth noting. But for now she wouldn’t pursue it. She was going along with his rather awkward change of subject. It was a tried and true interview method when someone didn’t want to talk. Let them steer you off course, and pretend to follow. That, and as she glanced around to humor him, she realized... he was darn right.
Centennial Park had been scrubbed clean. It practically shone.
She turned a tight circle, taking it in. “The streetlights aren’t busted,” she said in awe. “In five years coming here I’ve never seen that one intact.”
“There are no trash cans,” her companion said. “And... no trash.”
“The grass is....”
“....like a golf course,” he finished for her.
He knew golf. She put that right next to ‘had been to the park.’ There was something very non-alien about this alien.
“No weeds,” she said. “No brown patches.”
“No ‘Do Not Walk on the Grass’ signs for everyone to ignore.”
She whirled on him. “Just who are you trying to fool?” she demanded.
He froze. And the defensive look settled back on his features.
“You aren’t an alien,” she accused. “What’s your story? Trying to pretend that you are?”
“I am,” he said firmly. “How else could I do what I do? And I’m also just... observant.”
“Oh,” she said, because just now she couldn’t find the flaw with that answer. “Ok, then.”
“Lois, just what do you remember, exactly? Besides us heading towards the Daily Planet? Do you remember falling? Or taking off? Or... anything after we met back at EPRAD?”
She closed her eyes and concentrated. “I remember movement. Flight, I guess.”
When she opened her eyes, he looked deeply troubled. Strained. “Maybe I just met my limit,” he said in a low voice. “I lifted a space shuttle, so maybe I can’t do anything else for a while. Like I just... ran out of steam.”
“You’ve never gotten tired before? Lost control?” she asked, this time just to know, not because she was adding to her mental notebook. He didn’t know that though, because the guarded look came back once more.
“If you are going to want to keep secrets,” she said bluntly. “If you want to keep something of yourself off limits to the press, you are going to have to buy yourself a poker face. You’re way too obvious.”
“I’m new at this,” he apologized sincerely. “And you’re right. I’ll practice.”
“For your sake, you need to,” she said softly. “I know you’re here to do good. But if you want to be some kind of... vigilante...”
“No. Not a vigilante,” he said with a vehement shake of the head. “Nothing outside of the law in any way. I just want to help however my abilities let me.”
There was a plea in those last words she found almost endearing. He was such a juicy interview subject, and she could hardly wait to pin him down. But there was a vulnerability to him, an innocence underneath the muscles. He was right to be guarded. This world could chew him up and spit him out before he knew what hit him.
“I have to head back to work,” she said. “But I’m really reluctant to let you out of my sight.” She tried to make that sound as business-like as possible. “Can you promise me that you won’t talk to any press before me?”
“Yes, but I never said I was going to sit down and talk with you in depth, Lois,” he said with something like regret. “I’ll talk to you, but it isn’t going to be what you want.”
“You know how to get in touch with me. When you come to your senses and realize you need me to give you a voice, call me.” She turned and stomped off towards the Daily Planet.
And just as she had hoped, he followed, falling in step beside her, giving her a fond, too trusting smile. “I promise, Lois. When I figure out what I want to say, how to say it. When I’ve practiced that poker face, I’ll call you.”
“You might have thought of all this before you flew out and tossed a space transport into orbit, you know. Planned a bit better. You seem pretty familiar with how this world works. So, you had to have known you would raise a lot of questions, set the media on its ear.”
“There wasn’t time. I couldn’t wait. I saw the report on the news that the transport was in trouble. I had to go before I was actually ready.”
She stopped and looked at him. “Stuff like that. You need to be careful what you say. I could jump right on that comment. Ask where you were until now. Where you were when you saw the report. What you were waiting for. What your plans are. How you know about golf courses and cigarette butts and litter in the park. And if you don’t have an answer....”
She shook her head and her attention drifted over his shoulder to the Planet, where she was trying to lead him. The familiar globe...
She blanched. “Good Lord! Would you look at that?”
She didn’t tear her eyes from the very changed façade of her building, but she felt him go tense beside her in the instant he turned to see what she was seeing. Heard his low moan of despair.
A banner with his likeness ran the length of the building. It swayed gently in the breeze, just below the flag bearing the symbol he wore on his chest. While the Daily Planet globe was still there, it had been painted an amazing combination of red, blue, and yellow. A dazzling show of color which caught the sun and hurt the eye, even though it perfectly matched the flowers in the giant planters that ran along either side of the main doors.
“No,” she heard him choke beside her. “Oh... no.”
“A statue in one afternoon, and this, too? I mean, not that what you did wasn’t really great. Thank you, by the way, for saving the space program, saving all those lives. But... isn’t this a bit much?”
“Too much,” he said with a desperate groan. “Why would they do this, Lois?” He tore his eyes from the display in front of them, and they burned into her, so bleak and pleading she took an involuntary step back.
“Maybe this is just Metropolis’s way of showing that we appreciate what you did,” she lied quickly. “A big, somewhat tacky, thank you.”
“I scared everyone,” he said flatly. “But instead of raising the white flag of surrender, it’s my flag they’re waving. Just to show they’re friendly. That they’ll cooperate. So I won’t be a... threat to them.”
Panic skittered across his features and his breath came in hard puffs. Without thinking, she put out a hand to steady him, feeling the tension under her fingers. “Oh god. We’ll do that formal interview, Lois. We’ll do it right now. I have to get my story out as soon as possible. Let everyone know I’m one of them... basically. No delusions of grandeur. No designs to take over the world. I’m just... a friend.”
“Come on, then.” Lois hooked her arm in his familiarly, towing him along. “We’ll find an empty conference room and have something by the evening edition. Don’t worry. If anyone can set them straight, it’s me.”
She was good at what she did. She knew that. And she didn’t want him to worry, so she didn’t let him see any of her doubts. She just hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that she was good enough. For his sake. For the world’s sake. And, well, maybe for the Pulitzer.
***
It didn’t get any better when they stepped into the lobby. Mass hysteria was obviously well underway. And whoever the demented decorator was had gone all out in an attempt to appease the strange visitor from another planet. The rugs were electric blue. The walls, a brilliant red. And the yellow on the elevator doors just... defied description.
Clark managed to smother his pained exclamation, but he must have made some noise, because Lois glanced over at him, tightened her hold on his arm. She clearly wanted him for the story, he knew that, but she wasn’t afraid of him. He drew some comfort from that, from her touch. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he’d still be standing without it.
The Chief was bearing down on them. In his very short time at the Planet, Clark couldn’t recall seeing Perry White outside of the bullpen, his own personal domain. But now, in the lobby, amidst the terrible clash of colors, the Chief looked... different somehow. Smaller than he had been just that afternoon. And most definitely angry.
Clark couldn’t blame him. Because of him, someone had defaced Mr White’s building, his beloved Daily Planet. That would certainly detract from any sort of hero’s welcome.
“What the...?” Lois spoke from beside him, just as Perry reached them in full shout.
“Where in tarnation have you been, son?”
Clark’s jaw dropped open. Something was... wrong, very wrong. “Where have I been? Me?”
“You see any other super men around here?” The Chief who wasn’t... quite right... seized him by the arm and pulling him along. “We’ve had a group waiting since noon. Had this reservation for over a year. And believe me, they don’t want a Perry White or a Jimmy Olsen. It was Superman or nobody.”
“Who are you?” Lois snapped from beside him, her heels sliding on the floor as they moved in the man’s wake. Clark slipped an arm around her waist to steady her, still letting himself be pulled by... whoever this was. He had no idea what else to do.
The man who definitely was not Perry turned toward her, noticing her for the first time. He blinked hard and slammed them all to a halt. “Great shades! You’re the best I’ve seen yet, honey! Your group just left with Cat Grant, but you can catch up with them, and send her back here. She’s very popular with the lonely businessmen on their lunch break,” he added with a chuckle. “They started in the usual place.”
“The usual place?” Lois threw Clark a look that had to match the one on his own face. Complete and utter confusion.
“What is going on here?” Clark asked, trying to sound stern and unflappable, the way he imagined he should sound. And not how he felt, which was as if someone had injected cold water into his veins.
“Oh, cripes. You’re brand new?” The man who absolutely, most definitely was not Perry wasn’t pleased with this. With an impatient sigh he pointed Lois towards a hallway. “The DF wing is that way. The most important thing you need to remember is that you can’t cut any corners or gloss over the details. People like to hear the whole saga.”
“The DF wing?” Lois scowled. “The whole saga? What is going on here? I don’t understand-”
“That’s two of us,” Clark cut-in fervently.
“-and I’m not budging until you tell me,” Lois finished.
“Since when did Casting start sending you people down here without training?” Not Perry thundered in an impressive imitation of the genuine one. “The DF wing,” he huffed. “The Dysfunctional Family Wing. Lois Lane’s history. Just give them the spill: absent, unfaithful father, bitter alcoholic mother, flighty sister, cold as ice ace reporter...”
Beside him, Clark felt Lois flinch and begin to tremble. He pulled her a little closer. He didn’t have an iota of an idea what was happening. But he recognized that something in what this stranger had said in some way resonated with Lois. And that she was trying desperately to hide it.
Lois Lane’s history, indeed.
“Now just a minute,” he spoke in a low, controlled voice, trying to find some sort of footing to work from, wishing desperately everything would slow down for a second, give him a chance to think. “Watch what you say and how you say it. Whatever this is, I’m sure this isn’t necessary.”
Not Perry raised his eyes heavenward, as if seeking guidance. “Isn’t necessary? Believe me, it is. Otherwise they’ll all leave here debating why she didn’t love him like he did her right away. Whether or not she was even worth the time and effort. We tried to leave it out, at the request of the family, but the Luthor-Cage exhibit really put them off her without it. It’s simple psychology, son.”
With that he clapped Clark on the back and gave Lois a gentle push in the direction he had pointed. “Off you go, Lois. Don’t worry. It’s really much easier than it sounds. Just remember, you’re aloof, tough as nails, nothing gets to you.”
Lois swallowed. “Right,” she said faintly. “Nothing gets to me.”
“Lois, wait. We shouldn’t split up.”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” she said simply. And with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high she marched across the lobby, through the yellow doors, and deep into her life history. If what the man beside him had said was true, and really, Clark knew it couldn’t be. Still...
“I need to go with her,” he protested as Not Perry started them moving again. “I don’t know what this is, but-”
He stopped.
He had been led straight into a crowd of people. They gathered around, expectant looks on their faces. Clark took a startled step backward, only to find the false Chief directly behind him, blocking his way.
“Here he is, folks. Sorry for the delay. I understand Superman had some saving to do this morning. What was it, son?” he asked with a cheery smile. “Train derail? Warehouse fire? Cloned bank robbers?”
From around him the sounds of laughter rang out. The group closed in. Leaned in. Listening.
“Prometheus,” Clark said weakly, working off the Chief’s pointed glare, knowing he needed to say... something. “I had to-”
“Rescue the colonists’s transport!” everyone shouted in unison, rocking him back on his heels and nearly sending him dashing for the exit.
Not Perry clapped both hands on his shoulders now, holding him in place, whether he knew it or not. “Well, good you could find the time to join us. Ladies and gentlemen, your guide for the day... Superman.”
Who?
Clark felt himself go weak in the knees. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. What was this? What... on earth... was this?
With a final wave, the false Chief turned to leave. Clark lunged for him, pitching his voice low. “Wait. I don’t know what to do. There’s been a mistake.”
“Amateurs,” was the muttered reply. “You’re in the Krypton wing. It’s just holograms. When the lights come on, push the buttons. Nothing to it. And remember, you are Superman. Stay in character whatever happens. And absolutely no kissing.”
“No... k-kissing?”
“Some of the ladies will try. Especially when you get to the baby in spaceship part. Heartbreaking. But no touching, no kissing; that’s an iron clad rule. The family won’t hear of it any other way. You are a one woman man. These people know that, they just need reminding, sometimes.”
Clark cast a wary glance at the women in his group, young and old. Surely, it was just his imagination. He currently didn’t know down from up. But they seemed to be.... eyeing him... as if he was on today’s lunch menu.
“A one woman man?” he repeated back to Not Perry, but he was gone, hustling across the lobby to greet the next group of people.
Clark turned back to his group, forcing himself to make eye contact, to smile a stiff smile to cover his total panic.
“So...” He cleared his throat when his voice cracked slightly. “Who wants to see the Krypton wing?”
***
tbc
A big, fat thank you to Erin for her quick invention of Tempus's ring when I was struggling to hide his sci-fi thingy from the Peacekeeper's scanners. Without her, they'd all still be standing in the office at EPRAD.
