Since it's the one year anniversary, I decided to join the fun. Fortunately, the muse woke just in time. Happy Ficlet Friday.
This is the very belated sequel to Late EncounterThe Fallout Of Poor DecisionsMy heart is beating hard in my chest as I switch off the answering machine. Luthor wants to talk to Superman. I don't know how to feel about that. Meeting Luthor is the last thing I want right now. He's going to marry Lois tomorrow and there's little I can do about that.
Perry, Jimmy and Jack are still out, trying to find some last minute proof that he's the Boss, the criminal mastermind behind nearly every crime in this city. But time’s running out on us. Once they've exchanged their vows, Lois belongs to him. Maybe that's exactly what she wants.
I don't want to face Luthor. But I can't shake the feeling that I should find out what he's up to. What if my not going would result in Lois ending up hurt? What if this were the one chance I have at stopping this wedding? What if…
My mind goes in circles. Honestly, I have no idea how visiting Luthor could make any difference. I've told Lois time and time again how dangerous he is, as Clark and as Superman. She didn't listen.
I'm not proud of the fight we had at Perry’s retirement party. That was the first time I met her since my crash landing in an alley after being exposed to kryptonite.
No matter what I did, nothing changed her view of Luthor. So what would meeting him accomplish other than torturing myself?
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. “Clark?”
My heart skips a beat.
It's her.
She knocks again, with more insistence this time.
I stare at the door that rattles under her fist's attack. My own hands clench of their own volition. I'm not ready to see her.
Whenever I think about her, I remember her pitying expression when she told me that she could only ever love me like a brother. I see the sultry smile on her lips as she asked Superman if he had feelings for her. I see her as she allows Luthor to slip the ring on her finger, completely ignorant to his true nature.
“Clark!” The despair in her voice tears at my heart.
Yet, my feet seem glued to the floor.
I don't want us to have another fight.
I want to remember the good things, the night at the Honeymoon Suite, the one kiss I stole from her lips. The taste of Heaven that I got that night. I want to remember her smile, her brilliance and her tenacity.
“Clark.” Her voice a choked whisper now, laced with tears that cause a lump in my throat.
I can't stand to hear her cry. Something inside me stirs, unfreezes my limbs and makes me walk to my door. In terms of safeguarding my heart I might be better off ignoring her. These past few weeks have been too much.
But another one of her sobs cuts me to the quick and suddenly I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her. Whatever pain she's in, I want to make it stop. No matter the cost for my own aching heart.
As I open the door, a teary-eyed smile forms on her lips. I can practically sense her relief.
“Clark,” she chokes out once more.
Her hair is a tangled mess of wet tendrils. She's soaked through, not even wearing a coat despite the weather conditions. She's more beautiful than ever. I can't help the breath catching in my throat. My emotions are a mess, love and anger and hurt merging into something I can't even put a name to. Whatever she's here for, I'm not sure I'm ready to face it.
Hoarsely, I manage, “Lois, what are you doing here?”
Her lower lip trembles, her eyes are wide and for a moment there she just seems capable of opening and closing her mouth. Her eyes fill with more tears and before I know what's happening, she's in my arms.
My heart starts to race as I feel her so close. Tension seeps out of me, all those tightly coiled muscles relaxing at once. It feels so good to be close to her again, even though I can't quite shake the ambivalence about her visit.
“I'm so sorry, Clark,” she whispers into my shoulder. “You were right about him, right about everything.”
Her apology is probably the most alarming sign of all, sending my senses into overdrive. I hear her erratic breathing, sense her goosebumps under the tips of my fingers and smell her fear.
“Lois, what happened?” I pull back to have a closer look at her.
“I did what you told me to do, I investigated Luthor.” She stares at her feet, twiddling her fingers. “I met Superman after he was exposed to kryptonite. He asked me to find out who was behind it.”
That's not exactly how things went. My stomach drops, coiling into a tight knot.
“I looked into the video footage of the area in front of the bank where the false alarm happened. It showed Lex' assistant Mrs. Cox, playing with a pendant while Superman doubled over in pain.”
I remember that moment, the agony washing over me that I had hoped to never feel again. This confirms my suspicions that Luthor has found kryptonite. But that attack happened weeks ago. And the haunted look in Lois’ eyes leads me to believe there's more. Knowing Lois, she didn't stop at watching that video footage. She wouldn't rest until she’d uncovered it all, the ugly truth.
The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach. Of course, I asked her to investigate Luthor. But it was more meant to give her pause. I didn't intend for her to risk getting on his bad side all on her own without anyone to back her up.
“Why didn't you say anything?” I ground out. “He's dangerous.”
“I know.” Her lips become small. “I was so blind. And it's even worse than you might think. He's planning something for Superman. Lex will try to kill him.”
I want to laugh at that before I suddenly remember the kryptonite. Most of it was destroyed, safe for the tiny sliver Wayne sent off to analyze. Enough to make a pendant of, apparently. Enough to kill me?
A shiver runs down my spine.
I clench my hands into fists and try to get my breathing back under control. “We can warn Superman. But what about you? If he knows that you know, you're in danger.”
Suddenly I wish I had never said anything. I can't count the amount of mistakes I made these past few weeks, starting with that untimely declaration of love and I’m afraid that sending Lois right into the claws of death by making her investigate Luthor won't be the end of it.
“He has no idea I'm onto him,” Lois claims. “That's why I couldn't tell you anything about what I found. He’s keeping me under tight surveillance. It took me some time to find all the bugs he's planted on me. The rain should have taken care of the rest.”
There's a smug smile playing around her lips, letting me doubt that she's truly understood the level of evilness Luthor is capable of.
“If you say so,” I reply, unable to keep the exasperation from tinting my voice. “Okay, first we should get you out of these wet clothes and then we need to come up with one hell of a plan.”
“That's exactly why I came to see you.” She grins and playfully slaps my arm.
It's almost like the old times, back when we were still partners and best friends. I force a matching smile on my lips, not entirely sure how to deal with this latest development in our non-defined relationship.
But before I can make up my mind about that, we need to bring down Luthor.
Everything else has to wait.
If only it were possible to put my feelings on hold.
Dazed, I follow Lois into my apartment. One thing is for sure, Luthor is not going to see Superman anytime soon.
