~~~Part 18~~~
Elle eyed Pete from across the table in the all-night diner he'd found.
He hadn't killed her. Yet.
He was shooting holes all through her professional killer theory, though; hit men didn't buy coffee for their victims. They didn't sit and brood in their café au lait, either. But she still felt uneasy.
"So, are you going to tell me why you forcibly removed me from the airport, Pete?" She raised a challenging eyebrow at him.
He didn't look up right away.
Elle lowered her eyebrow. What a waste of a facial expression. She cleared her throat. "Lose something in your coffee there, buddy?"
"Huh?" He looked up, a blank stare on his face for a fraction of a second before it disappeared. "No. I'm sorry, just thinking."
"Care to share? Or is it maybe classified information?" She wondered, for a moment, if she was laying the sarcasm on too thick... but it didn't matter. As long as he didn't think she was on edge, she didn't care what he thought.
He sat up straighter and pushed his coffee away from him. "Yeah, it's classified." His smile was patronizing.
Figured. "Okay... Are you at least going to tell me what I'm doing here? Is the mafia involved?" She grinned at him, all the while praying he didn't say yes.
"The mafia?"
She glared. He didn't have to look at her as if she were crazy with his mocking smile and insanely white teeth. "Italian... guns... mafi... Never mind."
She picked one of the pink sweetener packets out of the dish on the table, something to focus on so she wouldn't seem fidgety and nervous. Interesting, there really was a cancer warning on there...
"I need information from you," Pete said, serious all of a sudden.
Of course! He had to interrogate her first, *then* he was going to kill her. Great. At least she didn't have to be in one of those dark rooms with a floodlight trained on her.
"Well, by all means, ask away." She raised her eyebrows, letting him know that she wasn't intimidated by him. Because she wasn't. At all.
"Okay, obviously you know Lois Lane is back in Metropolis, but do you know where she was coming from?"
"Maybe," she said, eyeing him with a careful stare. "But why should I tell you?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Because *I* already know, and I'm trying to find out if you know."
Heh. The longer she stalled, the longer she'd live, right?
"Well, how do I know you really do know, and that you're not just trying to get me to say it so you can find out?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Because I'm the special agent."
"Oh, there's a good answer." She tossed the sweetener packet off to the side... hopefully in a blasé sort of way. *Why* had she gotten involved in this whole mess? Easy money... seemed like a good idea at the time.
She could tell he was gritting his teeth. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to tick him off. But, then again, if he was going to kill her anyway...
He leaned forward, and every trace of fun-loving guy she'd seen disappeared. She gulped.
"Look, you need my help. I'm not the one with a contract on my head. Help me so I can help you."
Damn. He had a point. A good one. She tried not to wonder how he knew about the contract... she wasn't even *positive* herself. Yeah, it was a likely possibi... probability. Okay, a sure thing. But how did he know? And he *really* needed to quit staring at her like that. She cleared her throat. "All right. Point Noire, Congo. But I don't officially know that... if you know what I mean."
He grinned. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"
This man was infuriating. Never let the enemy see fear, right? She tried giving him the look of death, narrowing her eyes at him.
He didn't pitch forward and smack his head on the table. She sighed. "So what does me knowing where she was have anything to do with why you kidnapped me?"
“Do you know who your boss is?” he asked, ignoring her. “Or was he just a voice on the phone?”
She had asked her question out loud, hadn't she? "Look, Pete, I have no reason to trust you. I don't know what you're up to, but just because you have a charming Italian accent doesn't mean I'm going to spill my guts to you."
"You're right." He smiled. A slight smile this time. No trace of ridicule...
"What? I mean... of course I'm right." This was not good. Angry and indignant had been working well for her. And if he started being nice... He was just trying to get her to lower her guard. Then it'd be easier to kill her.
"Ms. Dal-"
"Elle." She watched him hold back a frustrated sigh as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and grinned. She hoped the drumming sound of her pulse wasn't as loud for him as it was for her.
He leaned closer across the table and lowered his voice. "Elle, I need you to tell me anything and everything you know about Lex Luthor or you won't be the only one he kills."
Elle swallowed roughly. She was going to die, wasn't she? No two ways about it. And Pete... Mr. Cocky Secret Agent Man was her only hope... Unless she tried to make a run for it. Hop a bus to Canada or somewhere.
But...
This was Lex Luthor, and she'd already decided he'd find her anywhere she went. He was all benevolent and kind in the face of the public, but no one realized just how far Luthor's influence stretched.
He'd been running a full-scale gunrunning and diamond smuggling operation for at least the past five years, for crying out loud! He probably got the same pleasure out of killing nobodies like herself as her father had with the can of Raid during cockroach season. She shuddered.
"Elle?"
She started, and her eyes darted to his. Every trace of ridicule was gone. And for a minute... she could almost imagine that he cared. That he wasn't just after what she knew.
But that was what undercover agents did. They lied. They were trained to lie. Trained to interrogate people. Trained to kill...
"Are you okay? I..." He coughed to clear his throat. "I don't mean to be... well, we're kind of in a time crunch here."
Elle uncrossed her arms and started pressing out the creases in her napkin. It didn't really matter either way, did it? If she took a chance that Pete was on the level... she might live. If she ran, Lex would make sure she didn't get very far. It was one of those no-brainer situations. She took a deep breath, trying to inhale determination from the stale air of the diner. Clam chowder. Ugh.
She looked up at him. If she had to work with him, no one said she had to be nice to him. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Anything and everything you know about Lex Luthor," he repeated dryly. Impatiently?
She huffed. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. But where do you want me to start? Guns? Diamonds? Unlawful imprisonment of an American citizen? Facilitating and encouraging a civil war?" She smirked at him. "Because if you're as smart as you think you are, you already know all this."
He sat there with his mouth hanging half open, and she cheered inwardly. Score one for Daly.
After a moment, he seemed to regain his voice. And his attitude. "You're right. I do. That's why I want to know *how* you know, and what you've found out about Luthor here. In Metropolis."
Elle held back a growl. "Fine." She glanced around the diner. People had started trickling in for the Early Bird Special. "But not here. Let's go."
"Go where?"
"Wherever you're staying. There's no way I'm showing you where I live."
***
Lois watched the tall arc of the West Palm Beach Marriot building loom into view as she and Clark neared their destination. Clark landed them across the street, and he loosed his hold on her so her feet could find the concrete. Standing on solid ground once again ought to have been reassuring, but her knees felt a little uncertain. Her heart was still racing as well. And she knew it wasn't from the flight, exciting as it may have been.
She stared over at the gaping circular drive leading up to the hotel's lobby. The light from the small crescent of sun on the horizon muddled with the exterior lighting of the hotel’s landscaping to make everything look a bit eerie. Unwelcoming.
Her heart was hammering in her chest. Or maybe it was in her throat. She couldn't be sure. She wondered which room was his. Third floor, fifth floor, penthouse? What time was it, anyway? There were hardly any windows lit with the telltale glow of early risers and insomniacs behind the drapes.
She grabbed beside her hip for Clark's hand, her eyes not leaving the building. "Clark, maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"Why not?" He sounded confused, but concerned.
Of course he'd be confused. She'd wanted to see Perry. He'd brought her here. But...
It'd been three years. More than three years. She was a different person now. A lot had to have changed in the time she was gone. Plenty of time to grieve. Forget. Move on.
And what would he say when he found out she'd been alive all this time?
A gentle pressure on her hand reminded her Clark was still waiting for an answer. Patiently, though. He wasn't rushing her, and she was grateful for that. But how did she answer him? Why *wasn't* this a good idea?
Because she was scared. Everything would be different. He'd look at her differently. Or something. She knew *something* had to go wrong.
A comforting hand came to rest on her shoulder. "It's okay, Lois. He'll be thrilled to see you."
She worried at her lower lip, but didn't say anything.
"Do you realize how many search parties, how much manpower he used to try and find you? Super manpower, too? We didn't stop looking for a long time."
Lois felt tears burning at the back of her eyes. "He did? You did?"
Clark nodded solemnly. "Yeah."
"Oh." She wasn't sure what to make of that. It was beyond comforting that someone *had* been looking for her. But...
They hadn't found her. Even with super help... And why would the world's superhero ... *Clark*... someone who was supposed to be off saving the world, spend so much time trying to find one lowly reporter? Someone he didn't even know, except...
Clark tugged lightly at her hand, cutting off her train of thought. Almost as if he'd known where her mind was heading and didn't want her to know. *She* wasn't even sure what conclusion she had been trying to grasp at; Clark couldn't have known.
"C'mon. I'm sure all the butterflies will disappear once you see him," Clark urged softly.
Lois nodded absentmindedly and followed him in silence up the circular drive, through the lobby, and into the elevator. She watched as Clark pushed the button for the fifteenth floor, and braced herself for the little lurch as the elevator begun its ascent. Her hand was aching, and she looked down to find it still clasping Clark's with an iron-clad grip. She relaxed her hand a bit, and the pain lessened.
She wished she could know in advance what Perry's reaction would be. Then she'd be prepared. She could brace herself. And if it would have been a bad reaction... she could have just stayed away altogether. Instead, she was jittery, as if someone had injected espresso directly into her bloodstream. The elevator seemed like it was taking forever. Clark could have flown them up faster than this. Much faster. Why hadn't they taken the stairs, then?
The ding announcing their arrival on the fifteenth floor startled her.
"This is it, Lois." He paused to look at her and give her hand a squeeze. "You'll be fine."
There was something calming about the timbre of his voice. And the smile he gave her helped to take the edge off her nerves. She tried to smile back. At least a corner of her mouth made it. She gave up and swallowed roughly as Clark led her down the hall.
It was a little upsetting that Clark knew exactly which room Perry was in. But, then again, Clark had seen Perry more recently than she had. He'd worked for him at the Planet long after she had. There'd been that picture in the paper, too. He was close friends with the Mayor.
She tried to stop it, but the twinge of jealously and hurt found its way through her body anyway. There wasn't anything left that was hers anymore. She bit at her lower lip in an effort to keep her chin from trembling. She wouldn't cry.
Clark stopped them outside room 1542, and they both turned to face the door. This was it. The moment she'd dreamt of every night since she'd been captured. Imagined that he'd take one look at her and gather her into his arms for huge bear hug and make all the bad things go away. But Lois knew that after three years, all the hugs in the world, even from the man she considered...
Nothing would make it all disappear. She was damaged. And he'd be able to see that in her eyes.
But there was no one else, was there? Clark... and Perry. The only people she had left in the world.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, then another.
An arm came up around her shoulders. Clark's arm.
"You ready?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, and tried to make sure she was standing still, presentable, even though she was sure she was trembling visibly.
She watched as Clark brought his free hand up to knock on the pristine, white door. The sound of his knuckles against the painted wood seemed to echo through the hall.
They waited. The only sound she could hear was Clark's shallow breathing and the thundering of her heart pounding in her chest. She held her breath.
An eternity later. A minute? Thirty seconds? She exhaled sharply. "Clark, he's not here." She hated the desperation that'd slipped into her voice somehow, but she couldn't help it. This was the moment. She was as ready as she'd ever be. And it wasn't happening.
Clark gave her a reassuring squeeze. "He's here, Lois. Trust me."
"But how do you know?" She looked over at him, wanting to believe him.
He simply tapped his finger to the outside edge of his eyes.
Oh. Right. She'd forgotten.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door opening, and she started a bit. A tired, gruff-looking older man came into view as she faced forward again.
Perry.
Her breathing quickened. In. Out. In. Short pants. And she felt the tears burning her eyes. She was frozen to the spot. She couldn't move. After all these years. Seeing him again... Was he even real? Or would he disappear just like he had so many times before when she'd woken up to find it'd only been a dream? That she was still in the Congo.
The figure of the man blurred before her.
It squinted, then spoke. "Lois? Honey, is it really you this time?"
This time? This time. The other Lois. The happy woman smiling back at her from behind plated glass.
Perry had spent time with her, too.
The tears spilled over, hot on her cheeks, and she was barely aware of him looking from her to Clark and back.
She heard Clark speak, but it sounded distant. "Yeah, Chief, it's really her."
Something about the tone of his voice... Reverent? Like he was really glad to have her there. Her specifically. Why?
It was all too much. Too many thoughts and mysteries and feelings fighting for control inside of her. But she didn't have time to think about any of it because she was being engulfed in a fierce hug. Out of long-born habit, her arms came up around him to hug him tighter to her.
His gravelly voice rumbling comfortingly by her ear. "Oh, Lois. Thank God you're alive."
And suddenly, in that moment, nothing mattered anymore. She sagged, sobbing in his arms, felt the soothing motion of him rubbing her back. She clung to him, her lifeline. Her father in so many ways.
She was finally home.
TBC...
