Thanks to Labrat for betareading. NO copyright infringement intended.


From part 5:
At this point, Lois had all she needed to show Jeffer's insanity. Within a few minutes, she had finished up the interview. Satisfied, she had then walked out and back to the press room to meet Clark.

When she realized Clark was still MIA, she had sat down at the computer and begun to type.

She was oblivious for a period of time, and well into typing her story, when her concentration was interrupted by two sounds. One was footsteps in the hall outside the press room. The other was a phone ringing on the table in the center of the room.
*****************

And now, part 6:

Clark's heart raced a little as he walked toward the door of the press room.

He had known, of course, from the street, that Lois was inside. He had zeroed in on her heartbeat and the sound of her breathing as she typed. While he hoped she was working on the story, he had a fleeting thought that it would be more likely that she was writing his obituary.

<I can almost picture the words. 'Lois Lane murders Clark Kent in freak ficus attack... Bystanders were puzzled when the obviously erratic Lois Lane lunged at her one-time husband and partner with a potted plant....'>

Of course, he would know that it was really a justifiable homicide. No jury with all the facts would ever find her guilty.

He chastised himself. <No! Quit worrying about yourself! If she wants to chew you up and spit you out, she has every right. You, Clark Kent, are going to come clean with your wife today. One way or another.>

His heart had sank when he had heard the sirens in the distance and known that Superman was needed elsewhere. And how could he explain it to Lois on a crowded street with news crews all around and people everywhere? No, it would have to wait. So he had left, not lying to her, but still leaving her as mad as he had ever left Lois. Clark Kent was certainly in a hell of his own design, it seemed.

As he approached the press room door, he took a steadying breath before opening the door the rest of the way.

He had been considering if maybe now was a good time to bare his soul to her, with them alone finally, even if it was a public place. For once, his cowardice was taking a back seat to his need to purge himself before her.

It was at that second, as he opened the door, that the phone started ringing.

Lois turned from her desk to glare at Clark, who looked at her and then they both looked at the phone.

It seemed their minds both went into gear at the same time as they both lunged for the phone, their hands making contact –his over top of hers- on the receiver. Their eyes met again, as if they were frozen, the phone a nuisance of background noise between them.

Momentarily, Clark reeled back from the electric charge which seemed to pass between their touching hands, as if he were stung. Trying to avoid any further embarrassment, he nodded to himself and pulled up a chair beside Lois' empty one at the computer. He set to the task of editing her copy, trusting in an old routine to lull them back to whatever place he was hoping this relationship-- or lack thereof—was going. Trying not to eavesdrop, he tuned his superhearing out. Soon, however, he found it amusing enough to listen just to Lois' side of this conversation.

Lois paused. “Hello, Daniel.” There was a pause as the other voice spoke. And Quite loudly, actually, Clark noted, as he could hear what sounded like Mickey Mouse yelling over the phone even without superhearing.

He dared to smile behind the hand supporting his chin.

Lois continued. “What do you mean, you're in jail at the precinct over on Chapel Street? What happened?”

Lois' voice rose again, while Clark's smile tried to edge past the safety of his hand. He smoothed it firmly back down, as Martha's voice in his head reminded him that he shouldn't rejoice in the sufferings of others.

“Pickpocketing? Oh come on, get me Detective Henderson. He works over there. You tell him who you are, and who you're about to marry. I'll be down there shortly, dear. He has to know that no fiancee of mine would steal from anybody. This is ridiculous! Besides, what proof do they have?!”

Lois listened again, her patience obviously wearing quite thin. “Witnesses?!! And they found the jewelry in your pocket?”

Clark turned to watch her, not caring at this point if his interest was blatant. Lois' back was turned away from him, and she was not exactly focused on her whereabouts.

He could tell some sort of shoe had dropped when Lois spoke again, because her voice was no longer agitated. Just quiet and calculating.

“Louis Venelli was the witness, huh? You know, Daniel...” At this point she turned around, facing an eavesdropping, busted Clark Kent. “...I think I have an idea what's going on here. You sit tight. I'll have you out in no time. First, I have some business of my own to take care of. “

Hanging up the phone, Lois folded her arms, and Clark swallowed another lump in his throat. He had seen Lois assume that pose on many occasions-- interviewing hardened criminals.

He struggled to make some word come out of his throat. Anything to show his innocence. Something to convince her that he wasn't guilty of whatever heinous crime she was considering at the moment.

She stood silent as an executioner. Waiting for the verdict to be read. Innocent or guilty.

The look in her eyes seemed to say to him, <Which one are you, Clark Kent?>

Clark fumbled. “Lois... I don't know what you're thinking at this moment, but I had nothing to do with whatever happened to Scardino. I am innocent!”

Lois edged closer, her body language remaining closed. Her arms shielded her from him, her face an impenetrable mask as she studied him.

After a minute, she spoke again. “All right, Clark Jerome Kent, I'll buy that today. Which would leave another guilty party at the Planet....maybe two guilty parties who have my rolodex in hand, as it were. Which still leaves you a lying coward...”

Clark sat stunned, unable to mount any defense.

Lois continued. “Which leaves you with right now. You've got me here. We're alone in the press room. There are no witnesses. No one will believe me if you confess that you're a serial killer or you go off to try on women's clothing because of some weird fetish you have that I am unaware of. And I deserve to know where in God's name you went when you left me earlier—just like every other time, I might add.---for whatever secret it is you carry that I, your ex- wife—have been thus far unworthy to bear. So tell me now, or I am walking out that door, and that story is going with me!”

<Oh, God help me. My time is up. This is it.>

Clark knew then that it was now or never. Knowing as he rose from the chair that he was about to plead for his right to live, he steeled himself.

She was right, after all. She deserved to know. Whether she stayed. Whether she walked out to a life with Scardino. Whether she destroyed his life. Because she had been his wife. And he had pushed her away with this secret.

Praying she wouldn't pull away at his touch, he gently reached out and touched her hand, attempting to draw some strength from that fleeting contact as he pulled her back to her seat at the computer.

Sitting back in the chair beside her, he glanced around, checking that there were no other listening ears.

For once, fate seemed to smile on him as he found they were alone on this floor of the building.

“Lois,” he began, searching for the right words that would bring them closer, not drive her away forever. “I've wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I couldn't seem to find a way to do it. At first, I thought I had good reasons not to tell. After a while I kept waiting for the right moment. Then, I was always scared that I waited so long that you would never forgive me once you knew."

Lois rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. “Come with me.” Lois had no chance to protest. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out the door of the pressroom and toward the stairwell.

When they found themselves on top of the building, he turned to her and smiled. Lois stood perplexed as he spoke once more. “Lois, I think, maybe, that actions might say it better than words.”

Clark tried to hide his amusement as he spun into his Superman costume. It wasn't often that Lois Lane was speechless.

**************************


(Elrond's blessing at the departure of the company from Rivendell)

"Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you.
May the stars shine upon your faces!"
-Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien