Clark finished bandaging the cut on Lois’ forehead and stepped back, looking her over. He had already helped her dress and blow dry her hair. There was really nothing else she needed assistance with. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
“You need to go,” she said softly. “You still have to get yourself ready and drive to work.”
He nodded. He knew she was right. It was already six-thirty at home, and he needed to leave for work in twenty minutes. He really needed to be at work today. He needed to get back to his classes, which he had left for three days without sub plans. He had to make an appearance at football practice this evening — Jake and the rest of the coaching staff had done a fine job running the drills, Clark was sure, but even if Friday’s game against Newton should be an easy win, he didn’t want the team to think he had abandoned them.
There was no reason for him to stay. Luthor was rotting in prison where he belonged. Lois had spoken at length yesterday to the Warden, who had outlined a detailed plan to keep anything like this from happening again, including keeping Luthor in solitary confinement, limiting his visitors and phone calls, and requiring an extra level of security checks for his jailers. He had also assured them that he would cooperate fully with the special investigation being launched by the Department of Corrections into the escape.
Clark was confident, after seeing Luthor arrested and hearing the Warden’s plans, that Lois was safe in Metropolis. It was time for him to go home.
For a brief while yesterday, he had thought she would be making this trip with him. And though he was overwhelmingly glad that the reason she was staying was that Luthor was back in prison…he couldn’t help but wish she was still coming.
He had tried inviting her to come anyway – to relax in Smallville while she recovered from her injuries. But Lois had assured him repeatedly that aside from some difficulty navigating certain tasks with her splinted wrist, she was ready to get back to work. This wouldn’t be the first time she was back at work with injuries sustained in the pursuit of a story, she reminded him.
She couldn’t go to Smallville now, she insisted. There were stories to write. She was already planning a follow up article today about the special investigation into the prison escape. And she hadn’t forgotten about Intergang. She had mentioned at least twice already that morning that she needed to check in with her sources in the arson investigation and organized crime units.
So he really should go.
But the thought of it turned his stomach. He didn’t want to be away from her. Even though he knew she was safe now, he chafed at the idea of being half a country away.
Lois reached up and stroked his cheek, and when his eyes met hers, he could see the gentle understanding. “Come back after work,” she said. “Spend the night.”
He looked at her questioningly, wanting desperately to accept that invitation, but not wanting to crowd her or smother her.
“I’m going to miss you too,” she said softly.
He nodded gratefully, then bent his head and kissed her, soaking in her love. He would come back tonight after practice. He would spend the evening with her, and sleep with her in his arms. Then he would go back for one more day of classes and the game, and then they could spend the weekend together. He could do that.
“Thank you,” he said.
She smiled and shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you. For wanting to be with you. I don’t want you to go either, Clark.”
“I’ll call after practice and make sure you’re here before I come,” he said. “I know it’s going to be a busy day for you at work.”
She hesitated for just a second, then grinned at him. She stepped back and dropped her hand from his cheek to his hand, threading her fingers through his and tugging him out of the bathroom. He allowed her to drag him along, despite having no idea where she was taking him.
In the kitchen, she opened the drawer beneath the phone and sorted through batteries and tape dispensers and flashlights before coming up with a single key. She presented it to him with a flourish and a nervous grin.
“Come…whenever,” she said. “I always want you here.”
The lump in his throat made it impossible to reply immediately, so he just cupped her cheek and kissed her.
“Thank you,” he said again, when they separated. He kissed her quickly again and then stepped back. “I should go.”
She nodded and looked at the window.
He laughed. “I should use the door,” he said.”I’ll take off from the alley.”
She walked him to the door, and he lingered for just a second, stroking her cheek and listening to her heartbeat. Then he kissed her one last time and slipped out, promising to see her later that evening.
He jogged down the stairs and out of the building, ducking into the alley and casting a quick glance around before taking off into the clouds.
He flew home quickly, spun into work clothes and looked futilely for his work bag for a few minutes before realizing he must have left it at work Monday.
The drive to work was uneventful, but as soon as he parked, he was greeted by eager coworkers. Apparently, once the story of the fire had hit the evening news Monday, the news of Lois’ kidnapping and attempted murder had spread like wildfire through Smallville.
He stopped at the office, eager to thank his boss for his flexibility and understanding, but was sidelined by Mrs. Harper before he made it that far.
She waved a copy of that morning’s Daily Planet at him the second he walked through the glass door into the main office. “Clark Kent! Look at you! A byline on the front page of The Daily Planet! I just knew you’d make the front page of a big paper one day. It seems like just yesterday you and Lana were in here nagging me for the paperwork to start a student newspaper. And now look at you!”
He laughed, feeling his own flutter of excitement at the sight of his byline right below Lois’ on the top story of the day.
After leaving Luthor Tower, he and Lois had spent the afternoon writing the story together – describing Luthor’s lair as well as his capture and arrest. It had been an exhilarating end to the saga. He had sat at her desk, typing, while she dictated, and they had sparred endlessly over word choice and how to organize the story. He accused her of being reckless and including details they couldn’t back up. She accused him of being too flowery with his descriptions. And in the end, the result had been the best thing either of them had ever written. He had been in awe of what they had done, and even more in awe of her willingness to work with him as a full partner rather than just dictating to him what to write as he had originally intended.
“I can’t quite believe it myself,” he said with a grin. “Is Mr. Capanelli in his office? I just wanted to touch base with him before I head to my classroom.”
She nodded. “Go on back. I imagine he’s expecting you. How’s that girl of yours? She feeling any better?”
“Much,” he said with a reassuring smile as he made his way around her desk and down the hallway to the principal’s office. “Thanks for asking.”
“You bring her back here to visit us soon,” she said, her voice following him into the office.
“Ah, I heard Mrs. Harper out there and hoped that was you,” Mark said, standing and offering Clark his hand.
Clark reached out and shook it. “Thanks so much, Mark. For being so flexible. I really appreciate it.”
Mark waved off his gratitude. “Of course. Of course. We were all watching the updates on the news this week. Thank goodness Lex Luthor is back in prison. I know you must feel much better about that. I can’t imagine how awful it was when you found out she was missing.”
Clark swallowed back that wave of fear as he remembered it.
“Were you really there when they arrested him?” Mark continued, oblivious to Clark’s discomfort.
“Well, we were upstairs until after they had him in custody. Then we got to go down and see everything.”
Mark shook his head. “That bomb shelter sounds like quite a place. I guess when you have that much money, you think you can survive anything.”
Clark nodded noncommittally, more than ready to be done talking about Luthor. “I should get to my class before homeroom starts. Thanks again for this week. I really appreciate it.”
Mark waved him off, and Clark exited his office and headed down the hallway, fielding calls of welcome back from staff and students alike.
In his classroom, he found his bag waiting for him by his chair and a note from the sub on his desk. Janice Miller had been a social studies teacher at Smallville Middle School before having three babies in four years and deciding to stay home with them full time. Now that her kids were all school aged themselves, she was easing back in as a substitute teacher, and he was so glad she had been available to take over his classes this week. He knew she was smart, experienced, and creative. He had no doubt that despite the lack of plans, she had hit the ground running and managed not just to maintain order but to educate his students as well.
Sure enough, her note assured him that she had found his lesson plans in his desk and followed them as closely as possible. She left details about the discussions they’d had and even a couple observations about particularly insightful or funny comments. He breathed a sigh of relief, and flipped through the papers she had collected from his juniors and added them to the tests and homework assignments still waiting to be graded in his bag.
Three of his homeroom students, all freshmen, entered the classroom together, perking up immediately when they saw him, their questions tripping over each other as they hurried to catch up.
“Mr. Kent! You’re back!”
“Did you catch Lex Luthor?”
“Does he really have an underground mansion?”
“Does it really look exactly the same underground as it does above?”
Clark held up a hand to still them as the warning bell rang and more students began pouring into the classroom.
“Are you okay? Did you get to punch Lex Luthor?”
Clark laughed and shook his head. “There was no punching. The police arrested Luthor. I only helped in the investigation. Now, I’m very glad to be home and ready to get things back to normal. Why don’t you all take your seats and we’ll wait for morning announcements?”
They took their seats, but no one seemed interested in the least in waiting for morning announcements. They continued to pepper him with questions about Luthor, the bunker, the investigation, and the arrest. He finally gave in, shushing them only long enough to listen to the announcements over the loudspeaker about the day’s lunch choices, the winning score of the girl’s soccer game the day before, and tryouts for the Spring musical. Once the announcements were done and attendance was noted in his book, he answered as many of their questions as possible and shook his head in amusement at their enthusiasm.
Finally the bell rang, and his students filed out, still talking amongst themselves about his big adventure. His first period students trickled in, juniors and seniors in his poetry elective. They were equally excited to see him back, and peppered him with many of the same questions. But eventually he got them hushed and had them read aloud two Shakespeare sonnets to compare.
Once the poems had been read, and they had hit all the important parts of the analysis, he surveyed the room. “Any other questions?”
There was no response for a second, and then Adam, a quiet senior who rarely spoke out in class, timidly raised his hand. Clark nodded at him immediately, happy to see him engaged.
“Did Lex Luthor really have a whole mansion underground? How long do you think he could have lived down there if you hadn’t caught him?”
Clark took a deep breath, his brain shifting gears slowly. Before he could respond, half a dozen more hands were in the air and suddenly no one was bothering to wait until they were called on.
“Did he put up a fight when he was arrested?”
“Why didn’t he just get out of the country when he could?”
“Do you think he’ll try to escape from prison again?”
Clark shook his head and held up a hand for silence. “I know it’s exciting,” he said when they calmed down. “But I don’t have anything to tell you that wasn’t in the news. Yes, he was living underground. He probably could have gotten away with it for years if he had just stayed down there and not come up and caused more trouble. No, I do not think he’ll be able to escape again. The prison has put lots of extra security on him. Now, let’s get back to Shakespeare.”
But no one wanted to get back to Shakespeare. It was a lost cause. They participated halfheartedly, whispering asides to each other the whole rest of the period.
When the bell rang, they tumbled out in the hall, voices raised, and he could hear Luthor’s name being repeated again and again. He shook his head in amusement as he sorted the materials on his desk, setting aside the poetry and pulling out his notes for the mock trial his sophomores were staging for the characters of The Crucible.
“Mr. Kent?” a girl’s voice asked timidly.
He looked up and saw that Hannah McIntire had lingered behind the rest of her classmates. “Hey, Hannah. What’s up?”
She handed him a stack of papers. “Here’s the mock-up for this week’s paper. I thought you’d want to see it before we went to print.”
His stomach dropped. He had completely and totally forgotten about his newspaper staff. He had made arrangements for the classroom substitute, and Jake had taken over his duties with the football team, but he hadn’t given a single thought to the newspaper.
His eyes went to her face, and he stuttered for a second, forming his apology. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. I just…totally dropped the ball this week.”
“It’s fine!” she said quickly. “Really. Mrs. Ross did a great job filling in, and we’re all set. I just thought you’d want a copy of this week’s mock-up before we print.”
Lana. Of course. He owed her big time.
He took the paper from Hannah and skimmed it quickly. “This looks fantastic,” he said honestly. “I’ll give it a look over during my planning period, but it looks ready to go. You did a great job, Hannah.”
She was flushed with pride at his praise when he looked up. Behind her, the classroom was filling with the students in his next class.
She hesitated, her smile faltering, and he could tell there was something else on her mind.
“What is it?”
“Ms. Lane…is she okay?” she asked softly, and his heart clenched.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She’s okay. She’s…tough. She’s a little banged up. But she’s going to be just fine. She’s back at work today.”
Hannah smiled, her whole body relaxing, and he found himself choked up at her genuine concern. “Good,” she said. “We were so worried about her. Will you tell her we’re thinking of her?”
“I will,” he said. “Absolutely. That will mean a lot to her.”
Hannah smiled as the tardy bell rang.
“Do you need a pass?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m a teacher’s aide this period. Ms. Lopez won’t mind.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod, and she turned and left the classroom.
He turned to face his second period class. “All right! It’s good to be back, everyone. Let’s talk about roles for the mock trial-”
“Mr. Kent,” one of the boys called out, raising his hand but not bothering to wait to be called on. “Did you really get to meet Lex Luthor? Is it true that he tried to punch you?”
“Were you really the one who figured out where he was?”
“I saw your name on the front page of The Daily Planet! You’re like…famous!”
Clark sighed and resigned himself to a day of talking about Luthor and his arrest.
