TOCChapter 8:The sky drenched everything in a relentless drizzle, turning the sewage reclamation facility into an even more hostile environment than it already was. Lois felt her hair slowly curling in awkward directions as she stared into the night. The stench of sewage water permeated the air around her. A shiver ran through her as the moisture slowly seeped into her clothing. She wasn’t prepared for this kind of weather. The clothes she’d kept in the trunk of her car were more suitable for getting comfortable during an indoor stakeout. They were far better than the dress she'd been wearing, though.
Lois clutched her arms around herself, trying to retain some warmth. She’d been standing here for all of five or ten minutes. Her patience was wearing thin already. She wanted to get back into her car and call the whole thing off.
What was she doing here anyway, waiting for answers she wasn’t even likely to get?
The truth was, everything seemed better than sitting in Perry’s office, wallowing in self-pity, and planning her revenge on Clark.
Or maybe not.
At least, she’d be warmer there. Her stomach growled hungrily. If she were in the newsroom, she could have something to eat. Stale sandwiches from the vending machine weren’t quite the meal she’d been hoping for, but still.
Huffing in frustration, Lois took a few steps into the darkness, attempting to see more than just shadows. Her jaw tightened. Clark had better not assume that she’d again crawl through mud and murkiness to find him. Because standing here was all the chance he was going to get. That was already far more than he deserved as far as she was concerned.
Why did he keep her waiting? She tapped her foot.
Hadn’t he done enough already to get on her bad side? The memory of his hands on her body, his complete ignorance of her attempts to free herself were creeping back up on her. Lois tried to shake the uneasiness.
She didn’t get it - his behavior toward her had been so completely un-Clark-like.
But the longer she kept standing in the rain, the less sure she was that she even wanted to understand what was going on. Getting back to Perry’s office and writing down all the reasons he should fire Clark seemed much more appealing. At the same time that very thought made her want to cry. Despite her initial objections against being partnered with him, she didn’t know how she was supposed to go on without him. They’d been perfect for each other, and not just regarding their working relationship. Why had he put everything on the line for a few minutes of one-sided pleasure?
It was so utterly insane, considering that she knew he'd been secretly pining for her since the moment they'd met. He'd said so himself when he'd declared his love for her in Centennial Park almost a year ago. She hadn't been ready to hear it then. Though she'd broken his heart, he hadn't walked out on her. Instead, he'd been patient with her until she was ready to admit she felt the same way about him. Why hadn't he managed to wait a while longer until she was ready to take that next step with him?
Lois wrapped her coat tighter around herself, though it already felt damp and cold. A shiver ran down her back. She should have waited in the car, but she didn't want to miss any slight sound in case he was lurking in the darkness. She held pepper spray tightly clasped in her hand.
It scared her that she'd so terribly misjudged Clark. But she was even more terrified that once he showed up, the truth about him would be shoved in her face. What if this was a trap after all? What if, after this meeting, she couldn't even cling to the hope that Clark had been telling the truth?
If he even showed up, that was. Which, apparently, he didn't. Another chilly gust of wind made Lois tremble.
This was it. She was done waiting.
With a huff of frustration, Lois turned on her heel. She hesitated when, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a shadow in the distance. Slowly, Lois turned back, squinting a bit as she tried to make out who was approaching her. The stranger’s figure was hunched, moving forward with heavy, uneven steps. As the shadow got closer, Lois saw broad shoulders and a lean frame - the silhouette of a man. He didn’t look anything like Clark. But did he look like Lex?
She instinctively assumed a fighting position.
Before Lois could utter a warning, the man stopped a few yards from her. Too far away to really see his face in the headlights of her car. Too far to pose any kind of threat, either. He held up empty hands, as if he was consciously trying not to give her any reason to fear him. Lois’ heart was pounding in her chest. He was not the man who’d attacked her. Not the proud man whom she’d almost married, either. Lex had never acted submissive.
The stranger’s voice was so quiet and frail it almost didn’t carry toward her. “You’ve come.”
Still, Lois could hear his relief. It was so intense it almost flooded her as well, like a sharp knock to her gut. There was also a warmth to his tone conveying just how genuinely happy he was to see her.
Lois frowned and her heart pounded even harder. The way he spoke, he sounded so much like Clark, it took her breath away. But his voice was someone else’s. And something about it made her shiver.
Lois tensed up, bracing herself to get into a fight. “Who are you? And don't tell me you're Clark. I can see that's not true."
The man sagged a bit and kneaded his hands. "Well, I'm not who you'll think I am, either."
Lois crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Are you talking about Lex again? You know as well as I do that he’s dead."
After a moment's hesitation, the man straightened. "Mind if I show you my face?"
His voice sent another shiver down Lois’ spine, because he’d spoken louder this time. And there was no denying that she’d heard that voice before, hard as she’d tried to push those memories to the back of her mind. Because she was ashamed of herself, of having believed in his lies. And Lois felt her muscles tense even further, to the point where she was no longer sure she could put up a fight against him if she wanted to.
The man took a step toward the cone of the headlights, but when she didn't give her permission to approach her further, he stopped. His hands were up in the air as if trying to appear as non-threatening as he possibly could.
Lois' eyes narrowed on him, then she gave him a brief nod. "Don't come any closer than you absolutely have to."
She balled her hands into tight fists. It was a useless warning. Her body was too numb to put up a real struggle. But he didn’t have to know that.
He lowered his gaze. "I won't."
Then he took another few steps until the headlights illuminated his face. One hand still up in the air, he slowly removed his baseball cap with his other hand. His head was bald. Not Lex - definitely not Clark, either. Holding up the baseball cap, he used his other hand to take off his glasses. Then he started to fumble with an obviously fake beard.
Lois gasped as the face of the man in front of her slowly turned into Lex Luthor's, minus his curly hair. Clark had warned her. But she hadn’t really wanted to believe him. In fact, her eyes were still searching that face, looking for a hint that this was a case of mistaken identity, that the man in front of her did only have a passing resemblance to her late fiancé. But she didn’t find any of the sort. His nose, every wrinkle in his face, down to the shape of his lips was Lex Luthor.
"You," she gasped. A shiver of utter horror ran down her spine. "But you're dead!”
The man hung his head and put the baseball cap back on his head, pulling it deep over his face. Then he slipped the glasses back on. “I assure you, Lex Luthor is not dead."
She curled her lips. "I can see that. What do you want, Lex?"
"Luthor is not here right now." His brown eyes really met hers for the first time.
They lacked the cold, piercing intensity that had always unsettled her about Lex, a trait she'd thought was just part of his looks. But that didn't seem to be true, because now his gaze was full of warmth and sorrow. It stirred something inside her, even though she tried to suppress the notion. What Clark had told her simply couldn’t be true. There had to be another explanation.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how it's possible, but he's in my body and I'm in his. Luthor's the one who attacked you."
Once again, his gaze met hers, the plea to believe him evident in his expression. With a start, Lois noticed how very pale he looked. She felt her conviction waver and fought even harder not to give into his persuasive powers. Certainly, Lex didn't deserve her pity. She'd made the mistake believing in that man once. It wasn't going to happen again.
Her heart was beating in her throat as she dismissed him with more vehemence than matched her actual conviction. "That's the most ridiculous-"
He flinched as if she'd struck him in the face.
"Please, Lois, I beg you - listen to me,” he broke her off. “I know it sounds crazy, but I
am Clark. Give me a chance to prove it. Ask me anything, anything you can think of."
His despair was almost tangible and Lois had a hard time keeping her wits about her. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears to keep herself from listening. This was Luthor. Of course he was desperate. He should be dead. But now that he was obviously not, he'd be an outcast. There was an insane amount of crimes he'd have to answer for. A man that deep in trouble would tell her anything to get her help. But then how had he managed to make Clark turn on her as well? He would never help Luthor, now would he?
But souls switching bodies? How was that supposed to work? How could someone ask her to trust the man she
knew she couldn’t trust, while refusing to believe in the one man she’d thought was trustworthy? It was utterly bewildering.
"When I started working at the Planet, you weren’t too fond of me," he said quietly. "You hated the fact that Perry had foisted me on you. And you told me that you’d be calling the shots. That you were top banana and I was low man. During our first stakeout in the honeymoon suite, we played scrabble. I wouldn't let you use the word ‘chumpy’ because it's not in the dictionary. When we were in Smallville, we danced a line dance and you told me that a friend of yours had convinced you it was a great way to meet guys.”
His words became faster as he rattled off incidents from their past, obviously afraid she’d run out on him if he didn't convince her fast enough.
As her mind slowly turned up the memories he invoked, her heart stuttered. A surge of guilt rushed through her as she remembered how frequently she’d put Clark down during those first few days. And no matter how much she might try to deny it, she couldn’t forget how comfortable she’d felt around Clark as they’d spent a night playing games and teasing each other. That was when he’d gradually turned into a friend, even more so when she’d been with him in Smallville. He’d seemed so relaxed there, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.
But it couldn’t be true! There was no way in this world this could be Clark. The man standing in front of her was Lex Luthor, a sneaky, double crossing…
The truth was, she wanted it to be true. She wanted the man who’d attacked her to be Lex and the man who was standing in front of her now to be Clark. Because the world would make sense again, if it were true. But just because she wanted something to be true, didn’t mean it was. That was one of the painful lessons of life she’d learned in early childhood, back when she’d desperately wanted to believe in her parent’s assurance that they loved each other. But repeating a lie didn’t make it the truth.
“What did I do when I was under the influence of the pheromone?” she heard herself ask, without consciously deciding to.
His voice was hoarse, almost husky with the memory. “You did the dance of the seven veils.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Did you sleep with me, then?”
He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “No. I’ll admit I was sorely tempted. But fortunately you regained control over yourself just in the nick of time.”
The way he looked at her, she was almost sure he was relieved that they hadn’t crossed that threshold then. Quite opposed to the man who had tried to force her into intimacy whether or not she was ready.
Her breath caught and she felt like the whole world was tilting around her. “How can you know all that?”
It became more difficult to hold onto her anger and mistrust. But she didn’t want to give in just yet, not ever, really. She lifted her chin in defiance, in a desperate attempt not to fall into his trap. Because surely, that was all this could be. A trap to lure her back into his life, to get the love he hadn’t been able to obtain before. Lex was manipulative like that.
Putting all the venom she could muster into her voice, she asked. “Did you stalk me?"
He took a tentative step toward her. “I know those things because I am who I say I am. You like your coffee with low fat cream and just a touch of artificial sweetener. Your favorite brand of chocolate is a Double Fudge Crunch Bar. You brought Mel Gibson movies and a pizza to my place when the Prankster was after you."
A wistful smile played around his lips, as if right now he wanted to be back on that sofa. And honestly, so did she.
Lois felt like she couldn't breathe. Though she'd been engaged to Lex, he'd never known even a fraction of these things. Certainly not how she took her coffee or that she had a thing for Mel Gibson. Clark, on the other hand -
But the man standing in front of her wasn't Clark, or was he?
"How?" she managed past a thick lump in her throat.
He gave her a helpless shrug. "Don’t ask me how this is possible. I have no idea how I ended up in Luthor’s body and he in mine. It happened some time yesterday, after I left the precinct. I helped a man in a wheelchair. The next thing I know is that I woke up in a closed section of the subway system, stuck in this body.”
Lois didn’t know what to say. How could any of this be true? Her mind was reeling and all she wanted was to get out of here, out of this nightmare that had started innocently enough.
The man who claimed to be Clark let out a breath. “Since then I’ve found myself in my own body two times. Once in the Daily Planet - you were talking to Henderson and I tried to get your attention. You didn’t want to interrupt your call, so I wrote something down. Luthor forced his way back before I could finish the note. The second time was in your apartment. We were kissing. At first I thought that I was dreaming, that I had fallen asleep where I was hiding."
He stared at his feet. "I'm so sorry that I didn’t stop immediately when you tried to push me away. I should have backed off before you felt the need to kick me.” He grimaced, as if he still vividly remembered the pain.
Pain that she’d clearly inflicted on another man. It sent her thoughts for another spin, because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way Clark would conspire with Luthor. It was so tempting to believe him. She didn’t want Clark to be the bad guy. Lex had already proven how evil he was. It wouldn't hurt her, emotionally, to add another crime to the long list.
But how could she trust a man who did look exactly like Lex? She’d believed in his lies once and she didn’t want to make that same mistake twice. Her mind and her heart were at war inside her body.
Her heart reached out to the man standing in a respectful distance from her. And instantly, she was reminded of the brief moments she’d truly felt comfortable around Clark today. Like when he’d been trying to talk to her in the Daily Planet, or when his kiss had changed from fierce to tender.
Her mind, however, was wary, afraid that if she wasn’t careful she'd find herself at someone's mercy. She'd never expected that she'd ever need to defend herself against Clark. He'd avoided any confrontation and sometimes she'd thought that he was afraid, but that couldn't be true. Today he'd shown her how easily he could hold his own, so much so that she'd had to resort to fighting dirty. She'd always prided herself that she was so well versed in self-defense techniques that she wouldn't have to stoop so low. How wrong she'd been. About so many things.
Lex released a sigh. "You don’t believe me."
It wasn't a question and it didn't sound like an accusation either. There was just an overwhelming sadness in his voice that cut right through her. Part of her wanted to disagree, but the truth was that she still didn't know what to think.
His lips twitched in a rueful smile. "Guess I can't blame you," he whispered. "I won't be bothering you much longer. There's one last thing you need to know, though." He stuck his hands into the pockets of his worn coat and shifted from one foot to the other.
With a start Lois realized that she'd once seen a coat like that on Clark. He'd walked into a bar, then, giving the ridiculous impression of a sailor. Though somehow, he'd managed to convince Tony Taylor. Lois could almost swear that she'd seen the shirt and the pants on him, too.
He didn't meet her eyes, keeping his gaze firmly trained on his feet. "I wish I could have told you under different circumstances. It's not that I didn't want to tell you, just - the timing never seemed right and…" He took an audible breath. "Well, it doesn't really matter anymore. You
have to know."
The man in front of her adjusted his glasses, the same way Clark often did. He ran a hand through his non-existent hair, accidentally brushing off his cap as if he'd forgotten about it. The spitting image of Clark. Lois’s throat became so tight she could hardly breathe. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words would come out.
"I have to know what?" Lois felt shaken and confused, because right now Lex Luthor looked and acted so much like Clark it was simply baffling.
He swallowed hard. "Regardless of whether you believe what I say, I guess you figured out that you can't trust Clark right now."
His chest heaved with a few deep breaths, before he looked up, pausing for a moment until her eyes met his. There was an intensity in his gaze that was unsettling.
His voice was hoarse as he continued. "The thing is - you can't trust Superman either. They're one and the same. Clark Kent is Superman." A deep flush tinted his cheeks. "I know I shouldn't have kept this from you. I just…"
He trailed off and shook his head. "Well, that's beside the point, really," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
His shoulders were slumped, his features lined with a deep weariness. Lois felt her world tilt in its axis. What had he just said? Clark was Superman? She was falling, as if someone had pushed her down the edge of a cliff. There was no ledge to hold onto.
"But that's impossible, I mean, Clark…" She fell silent, not really knowing how to put her jumbled thoughts into words.
Lex heaved a deep sigh. "Look, I know how this must sound. And I really wish I could prove any of this right now. I'm not asking you to take my word for it. Just - think about it, will you? All those times Clark disappeared without a good explanation. Imagine what he would look like if he didn't wear his glasses. Please, if you can't trust me on anything else - believe this - currently Superman is probably the most dangerous person to be around."
He turned to leave, his face contorted in obvious sorrow. His steps were heavy as he walked away. A moment before he would have stepped out of the lights and into the darkness, he looked over his shoulder. His expression was so tender and so full of love that it took her breath away.
"Please be careful," he whispered. "I love you. Always have and always will."
He gave her another wistful smile before he turned his back on her again and staggered into the night, dragging his feet as if each step was painful.
Lois stared at him, stunned. Her whole body was numb. She couldn't believe what he'd told her. How could Clark be Superman? How could he be in Lex' body? And Lex in Clark's?
But in her mind, the day's events tumbled around like the colorful shards of glass in a kaleidoscope, suddenly falling into place to form a surprisingly clear picture. For the first time since she'd stepped into the Daily Planet this morning, everything made sense.
The realization hit her so hard that Lois lost her equilibrium and she caught herself on the hood of her car. Her mind was reeling with all the memories that suddenly got a whole new meaning. That Superman had vanished when Clark had suffered from amnesia. That Clark had been nowhere to find when Superman had been blinded. No wonder Superman had been so unwilling to believe she had feelings for him when she'd asked him if there was a future for them. She'd rejected the regular guy mere hours earlier.
Lois squeezed her eyes shut. "Wait,” she forced out.
