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Chapter 7

Lois entered the bullpen and scanned the room, looking for Clark. She spotted him eventually, sitting at her desk with Claude having pulled up a chair next to him. He appeared equal parts weary and irritated – an expression usually reserved for those times when Ralph would corner him at office parties to talk. She suddenly felt bad for leaving Clark with him for this long. It must have taken immense patience.

As she approached the two of them, the look of extreme relief on Clark’s face was hard to miss. She placed a gentle kiss on his head as he stood up and gave her his chair. Claude shifted over, and Clark grabbed another chair from a nearby empty desk.

“Everything okay?” he asked, when he sat down again. She could see there was still a small part of him that worried about this nonspecific doctor’s appointment.

“Fine,” she said brightly. And then, softer so only he could hear her, “Thank you. I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“Well, we’ve done some digging here,” Claude piped up, gesturing to some of the printouts on the desk in front of her.

“This our list of snipers?” Lois wondered. Clark nodded.

“We’ve already ruled out a few,” Clark informed her. “The rest we thought we would divide among the three of us.”

“Good idea,” she agreed. She gave him a meaningful look. “What are we going to tell Perry?”

“Nothing yet,” Clark said with a sigh. She could tell he didn’t like the idea of leaving Perry out of the loop. “I…we figured it was best until we have something concrete. Given how dangerous this is, the fewer people who know, the better.”

“That’s logical,” Lois replied. She looked over at Claude and gave Clark another look as if to say ‘what do we do with him?’.

“The trade talks begin tomorrow,” Claude supplied as if reading their minds. “I thought I would do some research for a piece on the talks themselves. I can use it as an excuse to get into the hotel and speak to anyone willing to talk to me and see if any of the French conspirators are here. I heard voices, after all. I might hear it again and be able to put a face to a name.”

“It’s a good plan,” Clark said and she knew he was right. It also meant Claude would be largely out of their hair, which was also a bonus. Before Lois could reply, however, a familiar look on Clark’s face let Lois know that Superman’s services were required. She could also see that he was having trouble thinking of a reason to leave – he was never very good at that.

“Clark, don't you have to pick up that thing for me?” she said, her own mind blanking at the last second. Okay, so neither of them were that great at last-minute excuses. Funny, considering all the practice they’d had.

“The thing! Right, the thing!” Clark jumped up and began making quick strides towards the elevator. “For the wedding….I know how much you wanted that thing. I’ll be right back.”

Lois watched as the elevator door almost shut on his tie and heard the tell-tale whoosh of him taking off a couple moments later.

Another few moments passed before Lois realised she’d been left alone with Claude for the first time since his arrival in Metropolis. Doctor Frisken’s advice popped into her head, urging her to use this opportunity to talk to him, but Lois for the life of her had no idea what to say. The Claude in her head and the man in front of her seemed to be two different people, and Lois honestly wasn’t sure which of them she wanted or needed to speak to.

She was, however, acutely aware that Claude seemed to be giving her a look that indicated he was gearing up to say something, and Lois was almost certain that whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. She gave him a bright smile and handed him half the list of the names of snipers.

“He shouldn’t be too long,” Lois told him. “We should use this time to look into these guys. Separately. Away from each other. Somewhere else.”

“You know, Lois, I was hoping to get the chance to speak to you privately,” Claude said, his blue eyes serious. Lois inwardly groaned. She didn’t want to do this right now. Not out of any lingering feelings for Claude, but because her own fears and reservations about taking the next step with Clark were so near the surface. She didn’t want to conflate the two.

“I sensed that,” Lois acknowledged, hoping her voice sounded as neutral as possible, “but I really don’t have anything I want to say to you. And there is nothing you could say that would be of any interest to me, so can we just leave the past where it belongs? In the past?”

“I…” Claude blinked, clearly surprised by her words. He’d obviously been expecting a different response. “Yes, of course. If that’s how you feel.”

“It is,” Lois said abruptly, not wanting to encourage the line of conversation any further. She saw him nod and stand up, list in hand.

“I will of course respect your wishes,” he promised. “But if you change your mind, I am here. In the meantime, I’m going to start making some calls and see if we can cross some people off the list.”

Lois nodded, feeling relieved that she hadn’t had to convince him further to leave things be. She knew she would eventually have to discuss what happened between them so many years ago, but when that happened she wanted it to be on her terms when she knew what she wanted to say to him.

She watched as he retreated to Clark’s desk, and she marvelled at the feeling of utter disconnect she had as she watched him. Looking at him, it was hard to believe they had ever been intimate. And yet the memories of that night they had spent together were as real and as vivid as ever. As were the feelings of hurt and betrayal.

She shook her head and forced herself back to work, telling herself that when it was time to deal with those feelings and the man responsible for them, she would be more prepared.

She picked up the phone and began making calls to try and discover the current whereabouts of the men on the list in front of her. After about half an hour, she’d managed to cross quite a few names off the list as a result of the men in question being deceased, elderly or incarcerated. She was about to give up and take a break for lunch when she decided to investigate one more name — a man named Preston Mills.

Lois thought the name sounded vaguely familiar but couldn’t place it. His last known whereabouts was the Metropolis Maximum Security Penitentiary, so she dialled the number for the prison, feeling that it should be easy enough to cross that name off the list given the fact that inmates of that prison tended to be there for life.

When she was put through to the warden — a man named Mev Thompson, she introduced herself and explained her reason for calling.

“I’m doing a follow-up story on a man named Preston Mills. Do you have an inmate by that name?”

She phrased it in such a way that allowed Warden Thompson to offer her the information she needed rather than requesting it directly.

“We uh…used to,” Warden Thompson said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable. “He was here up until very recently. Apparently, some evidence of his trial came to light that rendered the verdict invalid. He’s been released with a full pardon.”

“He what?” Lois exclaimed far louder than she’d realised, for several people around her turned to look at her. “I thought he was serving three consecutive life sentences.”

“He, uh…he was,” Warden Thompson replied, and she could almost hear him sweating on the other end. “Believe me, I wasn’t happy about it, but the decision was made by the higher courts. He must have friends in high places. Given who was in the cell next to him, Ms. Lane, it hardly surprised me. Well, I’m sure you understand, given what happened and all.”

“What do you mean?” Lois asked, feeling a cold chill settle in the pit of her stomach. Before the warden even responded, she knew what he was going to say. She knew who else was in that prison serving consecutive life sentences. After all, she’d put him there.

“His cell was right next to Lex Luthor’s,” Warden Thompson told her. “They became quite close. Believe me, if there was anything I could have done…”

“I understand,” Lois said, though her voice sounded hollow to her ears. “Thank you for your time.”

She hung up the phone, just as Clark came back into the news room. The look on her face must have told him that she was upset because he was next to her in a heartbeat, his hand on her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I think I’ve found our sniper,” Lois said, her voice shaky. “A man named Preston Mills. He was released recently after his conviction was overturned due to faulty evidence.”

“What makes you so sure he’s our guy?” Clark wondered, though she could tell by the tone of voice he believed her. He was waiting for her to tell him what was wrong. She took a deep breath.

“His cell was next to Lex’s,” she replied. “They knew each other, which means…”

“Somehow, Lex is behind this,” Clark finished for her, his voice hard.

Chapter 8

“I’m going to get some lunch,” Claude offered, seeing the joint expressions on Lois and Clark’s faces. “Does anybody want anything?” Five minutes ago, she’d been thinking of getting lunch herself. Now, the very thought of food made her nauseous. She shook her head, as did Clark and watched as Claude headed towards the elevator. She wasn’t sure if he was eager to excuse himself because he knew details of Lois’ disastrous almost-marriage (it had made international news, after all) or because he could simply read the room and knew his presence was not wanted. Either way, she was glad he left.

As soon as he was gone, she stood up and found herself pacing quickly back and forth, trying to slow down the onslaught of emotions and feelings that raced through her.

“I can’t believe this,” Lois said, her voice louder and more distressed than she intended. She could tell that she was drawing the attention of others in the newsroom, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Clark sat on her desk watching her pace with a somewhat helpless expression on his face. “Was there an ad in the classifieds? A billboard on the highway? A sign from the Universe saying ‘Lois is getting married soon, let’s bring back not one but two ex-boyfriends?’ And not just exes…exes I could handle, but one is a full blown psychopath! Boy, do I sure know how to pick ‘em! Clark, are you sure you don’t secretly have a cellar full of dead bodies buried under your parents’ farmhouse back in Kansas?”

Clark jumped up and interrupted her mid-pace, to gather her into his arms, kissing her gently. She melted into the kiss almost instantly, the feel of his lips and steady reassuring thump of his heart calming her. When she pulled back she gave him a shaky smile.

“Lois, it’s okay, we will figure this out,” he promised her softly. “He’s still behind bars. We have time.”

“I know,” she admitted, “it just seems like everywhere I turn lately, I’m reminded of times when I trusted people only to have them turn out to be the complete opposite of who I thought they were.”

Clark looked down and fidgeted slightly with this tie. When he spoke, his voice was soft and regretful.

“I’m sorry. I suppose I’m guilty of this too…being the opposite of who you thought I was, I mean.”

“I didn’t mean you, Clark,” Lois replied gently. “You never lied to hurt me. You lied to protect the people you care about. It’s just…nothing seems simple anymore, and sometimes I have no idea who to trust.”

“Well, you can trust me,” Clark said firmly, and she could see the truth in his eyes. “I promise you. No bodies in the cellar. That’s where my mom keeps all her art supplies, so they’d never fit anyway.”

She gave a soft laugh, and leaned her head against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…upset,” she admitted. He cupped her face with the palm of his hand and kissed her forehead gently.

“I know,” he replied, “and you have every right to be. This is a lot, even for us. First Claude and now…”

She noticed that he couldn’t seem to even say Lex’s name which made her feel a little better. The usually unflappable Clark Kent was well and truly, well…flapped.

“I just wasn’t expecting this,” she said as she sank down into her chair. “Prison is supposed to mean they’re gone…not able to hurt you…safe.”

“Out of sight, out of mind?” he said wryly, sitting down next to her and taking her hand in his. “Doesn’t always work that way, does it?”

“No,” she agreed, exhaling slowly. “It doesn’t. But I wish it did.”

They were both quiet for a few moments, as Lois processed all the information. Eventually, she sat up and squared her shoulders, trying to force herself to focus on the task at hand.

“Well, now we know that he’s behind this, we at least have a better idea of figuring out what this is.” She told him, feeling suddenly extremely tired. It wasn’t even noon yet, and somehow it felt like her session with Doctor Frisken had occurred a week ago. She looked up at Clark and smiled as a way of reassuring him that the moment of insecurity had passed and that Lois Lane was back behind the wheel.

“What do you suggest?” he asked. A sea of possibilities raced through her mind, but only one clear choice jumped out at her. Still, she knew just by looking at Clark that he wasn’t going to like it.

“He’ll talk to me if I go down there,” she said, and before Clark could interrupt, rushed ahead with her reasoning. “After all, his obsession with me put him there. I doubt he’s let go of the delusion that I might one day change my mind, so if I could just get him to think that I…”

“Lois, you can’t be serious!” Clark exclaimed, looking at her as if she’d just announced she was going to move to Maine to open a taxidermy studio and candy store. “The man is psychotic and obsessed with you!”

“And locked up,” she argued back, refusing to allow herself to respond to Clark’s obvious distress. “He can’t hurt me. And seeing me might throw him off kilter. He could get sloppy…make a mistake.”

“Or, seeing you is exactly what he wants,” Clark shot back, his eyes hardening ever so slightly. Lois could tell that he would not agree to this easily. Well and truly flapped, indeed. “Think of it, Lois! He’s a genius. He had to have known we would figure out the connection between Mills and himself. He’d be counting on it! He’s probably waiting for you right now.”

“So what if he is?” Lois retorted, finding herself getting irritated after all, despite her resolve not to. “What can he do to me, Clark? How can he hurt me?”

“I don’t know,” Clark replied, frustration lacing every word. “I just know that I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

Lois was about to respond when she noticed Claude approaching quietly in the background with two large takeout bags from the deli down the street in hand. He got to the desk, the tension so thick she could cut it with a knife. She looked right past Claude to Clark, her anger simmering below the surface.

“I, uh, got you both some sandwiches, anyway,” Claude said, pulling them out of the bags. Lois could see that Clark had not budged an inch despite Claude’s mis-timed entrance, and her anger only grew.

Fiance or not, he had no right to tell her what to do. It made sense to talk to Luthor. Clark’s emotions were clouding his judgement right now, and he couldn’t see it. He had no right to demand she stay away, and yet she couldn’t say those things in front of Claude. She would not let the man who destroyed her faith in relationships see the cracks that were suddenly forming in hers.

She took out a sandwich and unwrapped it quietly, trying to think of the best way to respond that didn’t look as if she was backing down.

“I think we should do some more research on Preston Mills,” she said finally. “And it’s probably time to bring Perry into the loop. We have a name. He might have contacts that can tell us more about this guy.”

“Fine,” Clark said, his jaw rigid. Lois nodded curtly and turned her attention back to her computer. Clark waited a moment, then stood up. “I’ll go speak to Perry. You dig up what you can. Please don’t go anywhere.”

He was halfway across the newsroom before she could respond, and she felt the tension drain from her as soon as he was out of earshot.

“I’m sorry,” Claude said, and she could tell he’d heard most of the argument. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s just worried about you.”

She was about to tell him to mind his business, that he knew nothing about her, but something in the nature of his tone of voice told her that he genuinely only was trying to help. The impulse passed and Lois touched a tired hand to her forehead. She hadn’t been prepared for Clark to be so stubborn, nor had she been prepared for Claude to exhibit genuine concern. Both made her incredibly weary.

“Lex Luthor might be involved,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “Neither one of us thinks straight where he’s concerned, considering…”

“I know,” Claude replied and she saw a flash of the charming and warm man she’d once thought him to be all those years ago. She was too tired to try to figure out whether it was genuine or a ruse. She simply gave him a small smile.

“Thank you,” she told him. “I should, uh…”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, jumping up as well. “I think I might go down to the hotel and see if I can get a representative to speak with me about the talks. I will see you both tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Lois agreed as he stood up and straightened his suit jacket.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want to talk, and I meant it when I said I would mind my business but if you change your mind at all, I’ll be here,” he said before turning to head back towards the elevator.

Lois focused the rest of her efforts that day on digging up as much as she could with regards to Preston Mills as a way of distracting herself from the golf ball of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest. Clark made a few attempts to talk to her, but she either gave him short responses or redirected the conversation back to work. Eventually, he seemed to give up and did the same.

By the end of the day, she found herself standing up to get her coat and noticed that Clark had made his way back to her side. He looked apologetic which helped the anxiety lessen a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Hearing Lex Luthor’s name always throws me for a bit of a loop. I handled that badly.”

“Thank you,” she replied, giving herself permission to let go of her anger for the moment. He didn’t bring up Lex again and neither did she. She didn’t want to get into another argument and she was certain that if they tried to talk about it again it would only result in Clark doubling down on not wanting her to go anywhere near the prison. She could tell even now he hoped for her to reassure him that she wouldn’t, and she wanted to, she really did.

But part of her knew that it was a promise she couldn’t keep. So they both pretended his apology was enough as they got ready to head home.

They got into the elevator and she was surprised when he took her hand and pulled her close, kissing both her cheeks softly.

“Do you…” he hesitated and Lois knew what he was about to say before he said it. “Do you want to come home with me? I can make you dinner and we can pretend today never happened.”

“I want to,” she said, and she hoped he could hear the sincerity in her voice. The way his face dropped told her that he either hadn’t, or it wasn’t enough to fight off the disappointment he was obviously feeling. This was the second night in a row she’d told him she wanted to be alone since Claude’s arrival. And now with Lex…well, Lois only felt as if she were proving to herself just how truly bad at relationships she was.

“But you want to be alone,” Clark finished for her, his voice heavy.

“It’s nothing you’ve done wrong, Clark, I promise,” Lois insisted. “I just need some space. Yesterday, I only had Claude to deal with and now Lex…”

The elevator dinged and the two stepped out into the parking garage. Lois fished for her keys, trying to ignore the look on Clark’s face as she reached her Jeep.

“You seem to be pretty okay with Claude being around,” he observed mildly though she could hear the insecurity in his voice.

“That’s not fair,” she said, her voice shaky with hurt. “I just need some space. I need you to understand that it has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, and he gathered her into his arms. He held her tightly for a moment, and though she wanted to, she couldn’t find it in her to fully return the hug. Instead, after a moment of awkwardness, she shrugged herself out of his arms and stepped back, feeling even more on edge. She got into her Jeep, putting the key in the ignition as Clark placed his hand gently on the driver’s side door. She’d been about to turn the key when something in his eyes stilled her hand.

“It’s just…” he trailed off and ran a hand nervously through his hair as if he wasn’t sure he should say his next sentence. Her heart plummeted. “In two months, we’re going to be married. You won’t always have an extra apartment to go to everytime you need space."

Her throat felt tight and she looked away, not wanting him to see that she was near tears. Somehow, without meaning to, he’d managed to hit every insecurity and raw nerve with one sentence. She took a deep breath and turned back towards him.

“I love you,” she said quietly as she turned the key and the Jeep came to life. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”