Clark stepped into the elevator on the ground floor of the Daily Planet building with a garment bag over his shoulder and a duffle bag in his hand. Since he had planned to spend Tuesday evening before Fall Break finishing up parent-teacher conferences and midterm grades, and wouldn’t be leaving for Metropolis until Wednesday morning, Lois had decided to work a half-day on Wednesday and have him meet her at work. Then she could leave with him, and their long weekend could officially begin.
Clark’s alleged flight landed at one in the afternoon, so he had spent all morning zipping anxiously around his house, waiting for the clock hands to move. Finally, the interminable wait was over, and he grabbed his bags and took to the sky. And now he was finally just seconds from seeing her. The anticipation was making him crazy.
The elevator was unbearably slow as it climbed, stopping twice to let passengers off before reaching the newsroom. When the doors finally slid open, he stepped off, his eyes going straight to her desk.
Her birthday flowers were still there, he noticed with a smile. Then his gaze drifted to her seat, where he found her not sitting at her keyboard, but standing, phone to her ear, gesticulating wildly.
He paused to listen, his eyebrows raising as he heard her tear into whoever was on the phone. “I’m not interested in a scripted statement from the crime taskforce. You tell him I said the citizens of this city deserve a response directly from the mayor, and if I don’t hear back from him before my story goes to print, the second paragraph in the lead story of the Daily Planet tomorrow is going to say that he refused to comment on the safety of the citizens of his city. Ask him if he wants to see that quote splashed all over his opponent’s campaign literature next year. He has my number.”
She slammed down the phone and spun on her heel. “JIMMY,” she yelled. He saw Jimmy pop up where he was huddled over a desk with another reporter, flinching at her tone. “Where is that list of airports I asked for?”
Jimmy waved a stack of papers in her direction, and Lois nodded tightly, reaching for her phone again. Clark’s gaze swept the bullpen between Lois and Jimmy, noticing the hum of frantic energy coursing through the newsroom.
He had visited the newsroom twice before, and both times it had been full of reporters going about their work, making phone calls and rushing off to interviews. But the atmosphere today was tense and agitated, nothing like the friendly and entertaining atmosphere of his past visits.
His gaze went back to Lois at her desk.
“No, I will not hold!” she was telling someone on the other end of the line. “This city has an annual police budget of 5.8 billion dollars, and you are trying to tell me you are so understaffed you can’t route my call directly to the Chief’s office?”
Clark stood frozen, watching her rage. She was stunning. Breathtaking. And a little scary. He was glad he wasn’t the target of her fury.
“Henderson,” she was saying, clearly having been transferred to someone, though he suspected not the Chief. “You are going to want to meet with me ASAP. I’ve got relevant information for you. Lots of it. And trust me, you want to see it before I print it.”
She smiled, the thrill of victory clear on her face, and leaned over to grab a pencil from the cup on her desk. She nodded as she jotted something down on a notepad. When she straightened, her eyes met his, and he saw her face morph through a series of emotions: shock, confusion, delight. She glanced at her watch, then gestured for him to come join her while she wrapped up her phone conversation.
As he descended the stairs and made his way across the bullpen, he could hear her telling this Henderson person that she would give him everything she had, but that she expected the Chief to be there too. He arrived at her desk just as she hung up the phone.
He dropped his bags on her guest chair, and they stood facing each other for a second in silence. He hesitated, desperate to touch her, but wanting to follow her lead. Then the stress that had been creasing her face slid away, and her face lit up with joy, and almost before he could process what was happening, she was in his arms, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck.
He tightened his arms around her waist, rested his cheek against the top of her head, and inhaled the sweet smell of her shampoo. For a moment, he forgot about everything but her and how incredible it felt to hold her like this. Then she pulled back enough to look at him, and stroked his cheek, and he saw the strain and worry in her eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I lost track of time. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, resting his hands on her waist.
She hesitated, then sighed obviously resigned to the fact that she had to tell him. “Luthor escaped.”
It took him a minute to process the words. Luthor. Lex Luthor. Had escaped. From prison. Lex Luthor, the cold-blooded psychopath whose reign of terror in this city had been ended by his girlfriend, was on the loose and unaccounted for. An icy fist of fear clenched around his heart, and his grip on her waist tightened.
“I’m fine,” she said, obviously reading his concern.
He brought one hand up to cup her cheek, warring with himself over what to say next. He knew she was smart and capable and strong and a professional with experience handling these kinds of situations. But she was also precious to him and so incredibly…vulnerable.
“Don’t do that,” she said softly. “Don’t go there. He’s not interested in me. He’s probably halfway to some country without an extradition treaty.”
“But…” his voice was thick with all the possibilities. All the reasons Luthor would want her out of his way. All the horrifying ways in which he could enact his revenge.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. Then she grimaced. “But I can’t leave. I’m sorry. I know we’re supposed to-”
“That’s fine,” he said, cutting off her apology. “Of course you can’t leave.”
He should offer to go entertain himself. Go hang out in the city. Or go back to her apartment and watch television. But his stomach revolted at the thought of leaving her.
She smiled at him and then stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are? Thank you.”
His eyes went to her mouth, desperate to kiss her. The feel of her lips on his cheek had only stoked his need for her.
He relaxed his grip on her and took a step back, forcibly reminding himself that they were at her work, that this was not her priority right now.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know. I’m sorry. I want…. I’ve been counting the days, counting the hours. But I have to-”
“It’s okay,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and taking a steadying breath. “We have four days. Don’t worry about that. I can entertain myself for a while. Or…I could stay? Is there anything I can do to help? Or I can just stay out of the way.”
“Stay,” she said immediately. “Please. I’ve been waiting….”
He nodded eagerly. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help. Otherwise, don’t worry about me. I’ll find something to do.”
She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Eaten?”
He grinned. “It’s nearly two o’clock. Did you eat lunch?”
She shook her head. “We got the call about Luthor’s breakout at noon. I haven’t stopped moving since.”
He nodded. “I’ll go get you something. What do you want?”
She shrugged, and he could see her gearing up to protest and tell him she was fine.
He held up a hand to stave off her reply. “I’ll find you something. In the meantime…”
He turned and reached for his duffle bag, unzipping it and extracting a tupperware container. He closed the bag and turned back to her, the container extended. She looked at him expectantly, and then reached for it.
She opened the lid and her face lit up, her eyes flying back to his.
“My mom made you birthday brownies,” he said with a smile. “Double chocolate.”
“Your mom made these?” her voice was equal parts delighted and surprised.
“She said to tell you happy birthday,” he confirmed.
He had stopped by the farm on his way to Metropolis to pick up Lois’ birthday gift, which he had commissioned from one of his mother’s artist friends, and then she had surprised him by handing over the brownies for him to take. He had hugged her tightly, so thankful for the way she had accepted Lois so quickly and made her feel welcome.
Lois broke a brownie in half and brought it to her mouth for a bite. As soon as the chocolate hit her tongue, she closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure. “It’s still warm!” she said when she opened her eyes. “How did you?”
He grinned at her. “Magic,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes and smiled, then kissed him on the cheek again. “Thank you. And tell your mother thank you. This was….really sweet of her.”
“I told you she likes you,” he teased.
She laughed and nodded, conceding his point.
Her phone rang, and her head whipped around to look at it, then turned back to him.
He nodded toward the phone. “Don’t worry about me. Just do what you need to do.”
She picked up the phone and brought it to her ear. “Lois La- What do you mean he can’t meet until five o’clock? What part of ‘as soon as possible’– I know he’s busy! We’re all busy! This is….”
Clark set the brownies down on her desk and rubbed a hand on her back quickly before heading for the elevator.
Outside on the sidewalk, he looked up and down the street for viable food options. He knew there was a deli that she liked to order from, but he wasn’t sure where to find it. He wandered for a bit, before spying a likely choice, then skimmed the menu and found a turkey club he knew she would like.
He ordered them each sandwiches and grabbed a couple bags of chips. While he waited for their order to be ready, he let his mind drift back to Luthor and his escape. Lois seemed confident that his first priority would be fleeing the country, which certainly made sense. But if it was true, as she suspected, that he had spent the last six months systematically burning to the ground the businesses of everyone who had turned their backs on him professionally since his arrest, it seemed impossible that he would leave the country when there were still personal scores to be settled.
He walked quickly back to the newsroom, deli bag in hand, and found Lois typing at her computer. He set the bag on the desk in front of her, and saw her register it and then turn to greet him.
“Hey!” she said. “Thank you.”
“No problem. How are things here?” He moved his bags from the chair to the floor, and scooted the chair closed to her, before taking a seat.
She shrugged. “The police chief will be here at three-thirty. I’m going to show him everything I have on Luthor. I think it’s enough to convince him that he’s responsible for the fires. I’m still trying to get answers from anyone at the prison about how he was able to escape.”
“What happened?” Clark asked. “Did he just disappear?”
Lois nodded, reaching for the bag and pulling out their sandwiches. “They did headcount after lunch, and he wasn’t in his cell. No one saw anything. They searched the whole facility, and they’re checking all the security tapes. The press release says there was no breach of any perimeter security, and they are trying to make it sound like he’s still on the property somewhere hiding, but I don’t believe that for a minute. Luthor would never make a break for it unless he had an airtight plan. Someone must have smuggled him out.”
Clark unwrapped his sandwich and watched as she did the same. “Do you really think he’s on a plane?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’ve got calls in looking for flight logs for private planes leaving all the airports in the tri-state area.”
She pulled the top piece of bread from her sandwich and looked at the contents for a minute, then lifted her face to look at him. “There are no tomatoes,” she said.
“You hate tomatoes,” he said. “Right? I thought….”
“No, I do,” she said. “I was going to pick them off. I just… Thanks.” She reached over and laid her hand on his. “Thank you. For lunch. For understanding. I’m so sorry. I’ve been looking forward to today for so long. I hate that-”
He flipped his hand over, underneath hers still, and squeezed. “Come on,” he teased. “This will be fun. I get to hang out in the newsroom and watch all this unfold and pretend to be a part of major breaking news. It’s a dream come true.”
She smiled at him, and he squeezed her hand again, before sitting back and picking up his sandwich.
“Would it help to talk it through?” he asked. “Do you want to tell me more about what you know so far?”
She smiled gratefully and nodded. “He wasn’t in his cell after lunch. The last time he was accounted for was morning roll call, after breakfast, at eight-thirty. From nine to eleven-thirty, inmates do work assignments. Luthor is assigned to laundry duty. There’s no record of him being in the laundry room, but my source inside the prison says that’s not unusual. He bribed someone to get out of the duty and usually spends that time in his cell. No one can account for him in his cell during that time either though. They’re checking the security footage as we speak to try to find when and how he left, but that’s all we know so far.”
Clark chewed thoughtfully. “So he’s been unaccounted for since eight-thirty. And they went into lockdown at eleven-thirty?”
“Eleven-fifty,” she corrected. “They start roll call at eleven-thirty and his cell is near the end.”
“So he had almost two and half hours of a head start.”
She nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. “And now they’re wasting time and resources searching the prison and the yard. He could be over international waters by now.”
“Are they not also searching outside the prison?”
She huffed and threw her hands in the air. “I can’t get a straight answer out of anyone. I’m sure they are, but they aren’t telling me. I should have a better idea of what is going on after I talk with Chief McEntire.”
Her phone rang and snatched it up. “Lois Lane. Oh, hi. Yeah? What? That makes no sense. Do they think…. All of them? Okay. Yeah, I know. Okay, thanks for letting me know. Give me a call back if that changes, okay? Thanks.”
She hung up and she looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows in question. “My source inside the state troopers,” she said. “They’re setting up roadblocks on all the interstates. I guess they think there’s a good chance he’s still in New Troy…and they think they can catch him on his way out of state. But that makes no sense. He wouldn’t escape and hang out for a few hours and then try to get out of state. He’s got to know his disappearance would be discovered at lunch and this time of day is when the search is going to he heaviest. He’s either already out or he’s hunkered down.”
“And your money is on out?” Clark asked.
She equivocated, tilting her head from side to side. “I think so? I mean, his best chance for getting out was to do it fast. He’s evil, but he’s not stupid. If he wants out, he’s out by now.”
“But does he want out?” Clark asked softly.
She grimaced and shrugged. His stomach roiled with fear again. This was his exact concern. Luthor still had work left undone, scores left unsettled. He didn’t seem like the type who could let that go, even if it endangered his own escape.
“You were looking for me?” Perry said, appearing suddenly in front of Lois’ desk.
“Meeting with Henderson and Chief Williams at three-thirty. Here. I need a conference room.”
“Let’s do it in my office,” he countered, and she nodded immediately.
“My source in the Staties says they’re setting up roadblocks on all the interstates.”
Perry scoffed. “Day late and a dollar short.”
Lois nodded again. “That’s what I was just saying. He’s either out or hunkered down. They’re wasting their time. They aren’t going to catch him at a roadblock.”
“Any word from the warden?”
It was Lois’ turn to scoff. “I don’t know if he’s avoiding me or just overwhelmed, but I keep getting the runaround. I’m sure he’s panicking.”
Lois' phone rang and she held up a finger to Perry. “Lois Lane.” She listened for a second and her face broke into a wide grin. “Yes, I’ll hold for the mayor.”
Perry gave her thumbs up, and then turned to Clark as if noticing him for the first time. “Kent. How are you? Sorry about this. I know she was supposed to be off this afternoon.”
Clark stood and offered Perry his hand. “It’s fine,” he said. “Do you mind if I hang around? I’ll stay out of the way-”
“Sure, sure. That’s fine,” Perry said, clapping him on the shoulder. He stopped and seemed to reconsider for a minute. “Actually, you want to do me a favor? Half my copy editors are out with some sort of stomach bug. We’re trying to crank through articles as fast as they come in today to keep editors available tonight as breaking news on Luthor comes in. You want to take a crack at a first read on some of these for me? Just grade ‘em like you would your students?”
Clark’s heart leapt in his chest at the opportunity. “Of course,” he said. “I’m happy to help. Just point me in the right direction.”
Perry cast a quick glance around the newsroom, then jerked his head at an empty desk across the aisle from Lois. “You can sit at Sanchez’s desk. He’s out of town this week.”
Clark nodded, and followed Perry over to the desk. Perry leaned over and turned on the computer. Then he picked up the phone and made a quick call, requesting someone come meet him. When he hung up, he turned to Clark. “Someone from Copy will be over in a minute with a password for you and some instructions. Just do whatever you can get to. Any little bit will help.”
“Absolutely. Thanks,” Clark said.
Perry cast a glance over at Lois, who was talking animatedly on the phone and hadn’t even noticed they were gone. “How is she?” he asked quietly.
Clark looked over at Perry abruptly, startled by both the question and the soft intimacy of his tone. “She’s okay,” he answered. He hesitated and then added, “I think she’s running on adrenaline. I don’t think she’s given herself a chance to think about how this might affect her personally.”
Perry nodded.
“Is she…” Clark started tentatively. “Is she safe? Should we…?” He trailed off, casting a glance around the room full of strangers, at the elevator where a new batch of strangers was pouring into the newsroom. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would do whatever it took to protect her. While he was here with her, she was safe. But he couldn’t be with her every second of the day.
“I talked to MPD. They’re going to do some extra patrols here and at her apartment. She’s not going to like it,” Perry warned.
Clark nodded, already imagining her feelings on being coddled. “Good,” he said.
“You wanted me?” a voice interrupted, and Clark turned to see a woman in her fifties with dark hair that was graying at the temples.
“Ah, Diana, thanks,” Perry said. “This is Clark Kent. He’s going to do some copy editing for us today. Can you get him set up with a password and show him how the system works?”
She nodded, and accepted Clark’s handshake. Perry moved on, obviously eager to get back to managing the newsroom, and Clark sat with Diana, ready to get started. She got him logged into the system, and pulled up the editing program, which was thankfully the same program he had worked on in college. She gave him some basic instructions about editing, gave him a copy of the Daily Planet stylebook, and showed him how to submit his work to her when it was complete. All in all, it seemed pretty straightforward, and Clark was eager to get started.
He pulled the first article from the queue, a short piece from the Sports desk about the off-season trade of a local hockey player. He made quick work of it, correcting a few errors and rewording a few awkward sentences. The article was three lines over its budget, and he skimmed through again, tightening it up to make it fit. Diana sat by quietly, watching him work.
When he was finished, he turned to her, his cursor poised over the button to submit it. “I just click here when I’m finished?”
She nodded, watching as he submitted the file and pulled the next from the queue. “Which desk do you work for?” she asked, and he could see her furrowing her brow trying to place him.
“I don’t,” he said with a smile. “I’m just visiting. Perry asked me to help out.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you… Do you work at another paper?”
He shook his head. “I’m a high school English teacher. But my degree is in journalism.”
He saw her process that – her face moving from skeptical to accepting. Finally, she shrugged. “Okay, well…great work on that first article. It looked perfect to me. If you have any questions as you're working, just give me a call.” She bent over and wrote her extension on a notepad. “Thanks for helping out today. We were already struggling and then…this.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Clark said.
She pointed again to her number and reminded him to call if he needed anything, then headed back to her office.
Clark began systematically working his way through the queue, and was on his fourth article, an update on a major road works project that was behind schedule and over budget, when Lois finished her phone call with the mayor. He was so focused on his work, that he didn’t hear Lois approach until she was right behind him.
“Hey,” she said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “What are you up to?”
He turned, suddenly self-conscious. “Oh, nothing. Mr. White asked me if I would mind helping out by doing some first edits. Apparently half the copy editors are out with some bug?”
“Yeah, I heard something was going around. But you don’t have to…” she waved a hand at the screen. “You’re supposed to be on vacation. I feel bad enough already. Perry shouldn’t be putting you to work.”
“You don’t have to feel bad. I asked to stay, remember? I’m having fun. Honestly. How was your phone call with the mayor?”
Lois rolled her eyes and stepped over to his desk, leaning back against it and facing him. “The best and brightest are on the case…. Every officer in the city is looking for him… blah blah blah. Lots of platitudes, no real information.”
“Did you ask about the flights?” he asked.
She nodded, and scooted back, sliding onto his desk and crossing one knee over the other. She was wearing a black suit with a skirt that ended well above the knee, and that motion had caused the hem to rise even higher, showing off a good portion of her thigh. Clark’s eye followed the curve of that thigh, past her knee and down those long legs to the black heels that made them look even longer, and then back up again over her knee to her thigh.
His mind went back to that night in September, under the stars, when he had kissed her and slid his hand under her dress resting his hand right there, and she had sighed her approval and whispered his name. He hadn’t gone more than a day in the last month without thinking about that moment, without dreaming of touching her there again.
“Clark?” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. And he realized she had been talking, and he hadn’t heard a word she said.
His eyes flew to her face, and he could feel his face burning. “Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral.
He had expected her to be irritated at his blatant ogling, not to mention the fact that he was completely ignoring whatever she was saying, but instead she looked amused and…self-satisfied?
“Sorry,” she said with a laugh. “When I picked out this skirt this morning, I didn’t think we’d be stuck here all day.”
He exhaled a breath of relief that she wasn’t angry, and then processed the fact that she had chosen the skirt intentionally to entice him.
“So you chose this skirt on purpose to torture me?” he said with a laugh.
She laughed too. “It wasn’t supposed to be torture! We were supposed to be back at my place by now. The plan was definitely not look but don’t touch.”
A wave of red-hot desire shot straight through him, and he sucked in a breath. “Now, you’re torturing me on purpose.”
She laughed again and reached out to stroke his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
She dropped her hand back to her lap, and he shook his head, as if he could shake off his embarrassment. “Tell me about the phone call,” he said. “I’ll listen this time.”
She giggled and smiled at him, and his heart was so full it wanted to explode out of his chest.
“I asked about the airports. He said they’re checking, but nothing so far. He also said they’ve contacted the feds and they are mobilizing to help with the search.”
“That’s good,” Clark said.
Lois glanced at her watch and then sighed. “Henderson and the police chief are going to be here any minute, and now Perry’s on me to give him a 13-inch sidebar on the local airports and the process for logging a flight plan and what happens when pilots deviate from those plans. He’s lost his mind. I don’t have time to write that. He’s going to have to assign it to someone else.”
The elevator door dinged, and two men stepped out, one in a police uniform and one in a suit. Lois swore under her breath. “They’re early. I have to go.”
He nodded and squeezed her knee quickly. “You got this.”
She smiled at him and slid off his desk, raising an arm to catch the attention of the two men. She pointed in the direction of Perry’s office, and then hurried to her desk to grab a stack of files.
He watched her go, smiling at the way she corralled to two men and hustled them into her editor’s office. There was no doubt, even from a distance, who was running this show.
He went back to editing the article he had been working on, letting himself imagine for just a minute that this was his life. Working at the paper, working alongside her. It was almost too painful to even pretend.
“CK?”
Clark looked up and saw Jimmy looking at him questioningly. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Sorry your weekend plans got all messed up. I bet you didn’t expect to spend the first day of your vacation like this.” He gestured to the newsroom, which still hummed with nervous energy.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s not so bad.”
Jimmy smiled. “I know, right? It’s kinda fun when all hell breaks loose.”
Clark laughed and nodded his agreement. Though he imagined he would enjoy it a lot more if he wasn’t also worrying about Lois’ safety.
“Hey, have you seen Lois?” Jimmy asked.
“She’s in with Mr. White and the Chief of Police,” Clark said, tilting his head toward the editor’s office.
Jimmy wrinkled his nose in disappointment.
“Why?” Clark asked. “What do you need?”
“I was just going to see if she could take a look at my article. I know she’s busy, but this is the biggest assignment Perry’s given me so far. I don’t want to blow it.”
Clark shrugged, “I’m not Lois, but I’m happy to take a look at it if you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure,” he said.
Jimmy came around to his side of the desk, and Clark scooted back out of his way. Jimmy made a few quick keystrokes, and brought up his article. Clark read through it quickly, then went back to the top and read it more carefully.
The article was about a recreation center that housed after school programs for disadvantaged youth. The building had been vandalized overnight, and Jimmy’s article did a good job of covering all the basics. He gave background on the building, described the vandalism, stated that police had no leads at this time, and ended with a quote from the program director about how disappointed he was because the program served such an important role in the community.
Clark helped him tighten up the writing a bit, leading him just like he did his students to find the places that could be better and word them more efficiently or clearly. After fifteen minutes or so, it was definitely something Jimmy could be proud to submit, and Clark was pleased with the smile on Jimmy’s face.
“This is good,” Clark said honestly. “But did you talk to any of the kids? Or anyone who went there when they were kids?”
Jimmy shook his head. “When I went down there earlier, it was the middle of the day so the only people around were staff.”
Clark nodded. “The quote from the director is good. But a quote from a kid who is served by these programs would be a lot more meaningful.”
Jimmy looked at his watch and then darted a glance at Perry’s office. “I’m going to run back down there. It’s not far from here and school is out now. If Perry’s looking for me, will you tell him where I am?”
Clark nodded, and Jimmy took off for the elevator at a brisk jog, snagging a notepad and his camera on his way out. Clark shook his head at Jimmy’s youth and energy, and went back to editing. Then he remembered what Lois had said about the sidebar Perry wanted her to write. Maybe he could give her a head start.
He walked over to her desk and found her reporter’s pad with notes from her interview with someone at the FAA and Jimmy’s research that she had been yelling for when he arrived.
He took them back to his desk and read them over, then poked around in the editing software until he found the file where Lois was supposed to be writing the sidebar. It took him no time at all to fill the thirteen inches. Then he went back and tightened it up and swapped out a few details. When he was finished, it had everything it needed aside from a quote from someone at the FAA about pilots who deviate from their flight plans – how often it happens and what the consequences would be. He figured she could add that quote and tweak what he had written to meet her standards, and that would take her far less time than starting from scratch.
Satisfied, he closed out of that file and pulled back up the copyediting queue.
