To recap:
"Lois? Hi, it's me," Clark said.
"Hi!" she chirped happily.
"They just found Wes Gatenby dead near the Hobbs Bay Tower."
"Who?"
"The supervisor from STAR Labs that Superman met with yesterday. He's dead. And the killer left a calling card behind."
"A calling card? With a name on it?"
"Yep."
"So what's his name?"
"Bad Brain."
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Part 7/20
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Lois took a deep breath before getting out of the elevator. She was early, but she wasn't sure if she had beat Clark to work or not. She felt nervous - jumpy really. She wasn't entirely sure she had chosen wisely when getting dressed. Still, it was too late to go home and change now.
All that worrying had been a bit premature. He wasn't there yet. She was about to get a cup of coffee when her phone rang.
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet."
It was Inspector Henderson. "Lois! Good, you're in early. You heard about Dr. Gatenby at STAR Labs, yes?"
"Yes, I heard."
"I just wanted to let you know that we've got a unit watching Rachel Eames. We don't want to take the risk that this guy tries to kill her again."
"Do you think that Bad Brain is the same guy?"
Henderson sighed. "It's plausible. You asked if I believe in coincidences - I don't think three co-workers in a week is a coincidence."
"How was Dr. Gatenby killed?" Lois asked.
"I can't really say until the after the autopsy. But we're fairly certain that he was killed somewhere else and then moved to the Hobbs Bay Tower plaza."
"Why's that?"
"No blood at the scene. And, after what this guy did to him, there should be blood."
"What did he do to him?"
"Sorry, Lois, you're just going to have to wait on the autopsy to get the juicy details. Oh, and the water on the manhole? It wasn't ordinary salt water. It was heavy water with salt added to it."
"Heavy water?"
"I'm just reading the notes the lab sent over. I'll have them send you a copy of the report; it should have all the details. I'll also send over a copy of the images from the bank's camera. We have a few shots of the guy in profile that Ms.Eames believes could be the same man who pushed her onto the manhole."
"Thanks. Let me know when the autopsy comes back." As Lois hung up the phone she caught sight of Clark sitting down at his desk.
"Hey, Clark, have you ever heard of heavy water?"
His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it. "Water with deuterium oxide, it's ten percent more dense than normal water. They use it for nuclear reactors and in nuclear magnetic resonance."
"Say what?"
"NMR, nuclear magnetic resonance. It's done in laboratories where they study molecules."
She shook her head. "You are just a font of useless knowledge."
"It came in useful right now, didn't it?" He grinned at her, daring her to admit that he'd known something she didn't.
Lois rolled her eyes, refusing to rise to the implicit challenge. "So which labs would those be? Someplace like STAR Labs? Or Vibrant Technologies?"
"Maybe we should be looking for this guy at another laboratory instead of pestering Vibrant Tech and STAR Labs?"
Lois stood up, pleased to see how rapidly his attention shifted to her legs. It wasn't her shortest skirt, but it was close. Encouraged by his distracted expression, she came over to his desk and perched on the edge of it, deliberately crossing one leg over the other. This raised the hem of her skirt just high enough that he could see the lacy band at the top of her thigh-high stocking.
"Maybe you should consider wearing thigh highs…"
For a moment his brain short-circuited. Did she have any idea that he could see her? He looked up in time to catch the trace of a smile on her lips. She knew exactly what she was doing. Clark called on all his willpower to appear calm and unaffected.
"Um, we should call all the laboratories in a fifty mile radius and narrow down our list to those that have an NMR in the facility," he said, then cleared his throat nervously. She had to move. She couldn't just sit there, like that, for much longer. Could she?
"Henderson is sending over a picture from the bank's camera. Once we have a list we can take that picture around, just in case he's using a different name." Lois shifted as she spoke and her skirt hitched a tiny bit higher.
Clark took in a deep breath. A couple of new rules governing dress standards and behavior at the office would probably be a good idea. He hadn't dared to wear the suit under his clothes this morning. He knew that was just giving himself tacit permission to start something. Still, it might be worth the few extra seconds it would take to run home and change if anyone else needed him.
"What does Superman know about the tragic murder of Dr. Weston Gatenby? Stay tuned…"
It was probably the only thing in the world that could have lured him away from the promise of illicit sex. Clark looked over at the television. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Clark stood up and went over to the television, waiting for the commercial to end. "They just did a tease about Superman and Dr. Gatenby's murder."
Lois and a few other staff members joined him in front of the television.
"As we reported last night in an exclusive story…" Displayed on the screen was grainy distant footage that had been shot through the front window of STAR Labs as Superman shook Gatenby's hand and then walked into the elevator with him. "…Superman met with Dr. Weston Gatenby yesterday afternoon - only hours before he was brutally murdered." Ken Randall's face appeared on-screen. "Here's what we do know about the circumstances surrounding Dr. Gatenby's death. Shortly after meeting with Superman, Dr. Gatenby left STAR Labs…" The jittery video continued, showing Dr. Gatenby crossing a parking lot and getting into a car. "… but we weren't able to discover where he went."
"Looks like Gatenby lost him in traffic," Lois muttered.
"We do know that someone calling themselves 'Bad Brain' is claiming responsibility for his death." They were shown a close-up on a card printed with a grotesquely grinning cartoon brain. "Bad Brain" was emblazoned beneath it in squiggly letters. "Who is this Bad Brain? What drove him to allegedly kill Dr. Gatenby? My investigation will continue until we have these answers. This is Ken Randall, WMET news, signing off."
"That idiot!" Clark seethed. "How can he blame Superman when he just admitted he's the one who aired it all over Metropolis last night? How does he know that he wasn't the one who lead the killer to Dr. Gatenby?" He turned his head away from the television set. "Superman promised him we wouldn't use his name."
Lois touched his arm. "It's not your fault or Superman's fault. We don't even really know if we can blame Ken, maybe Bad Brain was already planning to kill Gatenby. The only thing we can do is find this guy and stop him. You call all the labs and I'll go through the census, we'll see what we can come up with."
By the early afternoon Clark had come up with a list of three labs in addition to STAR Labs and Vibrant Technologies that used nuclear magnetic resonance. All of them were located in Metropolis.
Lois had found fifty-three Johnsons who listed "electrician" or "electrical engineer" as their occupation on the last census. She called all of them and, unsurprisingly, had been forced to leave messages for nearly every single one. She could only eliminate seven names from their list. Two were dead, one had moved from Metropolis and the other four were women.
Clark closed his eyes, feeling frustrated on every front. Had he unknowingly led Bad Brain to Gatenby? Were Bad Brain, the man who pushed Rachel, and the elusive Mr. Johnson all the same person? Was Lois trying to seduce him at work again or was she just having a little fun at his expense?
What in the heck was she thinking anyway, teasing him like this? They couldn't just sneak off to the supply closet every time the whim took them - they'd been too careless the first time. He'd tried so hard not to look at her today, but he couldn't stop himself from listening. He could hear the whisper of the lace at the top of her thigh-highs every time she shifted in her chair, stood up, or - worst of all - walked across the room.
He could hear her walking over to him now. Please, please, please don't let her sit on the edge of the desk again. He opened his eyes and found she had stopped in front of his desk, leaning down and placing her hands flat on its surface. The neck of her shirt showed him a faint, tantalizing hint of cleavage.
"Well," she asked, "how many labs did you find?"
"Five, including STAR Labs and Vibrant. You feel like going on a field trip? We could take the picture from the bank around and see if anyone recognizes him."
"I can't think of anything else I'd rather do today. Can you?" She gave him a smile that reinforced his decision to go sans suit. He could only think of one thing he wanted to do today. The sooner, the better. And yet, they still had their jobs to do.
"Let's check out the labs first," he told her. "Then maybe we can… have a late lunch."
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They checked with the three labs from Clark's list and Vibrant Technologies. No one working in the NMR departments at any of the facilities recognized the man in the photo from the bank. None of them had a Johnson working in that department. One lab had a Johnson on staff, but he was two weeks away from retirement and didn't recognize the man in the photo either.
Clark was torn between disappointment that they still had no solid leads and elation at the thought that maybe they could take a break for an hour or so.
"We're, uh, close to my place," he said hesitantly. "Did you still want to, um, have lunch?"
Lois reddened but nodded her head. "Yeah, lunch would be good."
Clark whistled and put up his hand to hail a cab. One pulled over and his hand brushed across the small of her back as he helped her into waiting cab. Had he always touched her like this?
He had, Lois realized. It wasn't just a by-product of their current arrangement. He had always been polite and… was it slightly possessive or just good manners? Did he touch every woman he was holding the door open for like that? He didn't. He never touched Cat like that. Or Alice - he had held the door open for Perry's wife the week before.
As the cab took them closer and closer to his apartment, she began to feel a nervous flutter in her stomach. She had been thinking about this all morning. Even though he had seemed affected when he first saw her this morning; he had focused on work ever since. He hadn't even so much as glanced at her for most of the day.
To be honest, until he suggested they go to his place, she had wondered if he just wasn't all that interested. It was annoying, the way he had been studiously ignoring her all morning. Wasn't it his idea to see her in thigh-highs? After she had gone to all the trouble to cater to his little whim, he didn't even appreciate it.
Now, however, she noticed that his gaze was fixed almost exclusively on the hem of her skirt. It had crept up when she sat down and she could see a hint of lace from her stockings. It was heartening beyond belief to know he was looking. It was also nerve-wracking. Couldn't the cab driver go any faster?
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Clark fought to keep his hands steady as he unlocked his door. The key seemed to have a mind of its own, and it wasn't inclined to make his life any easier. Lois trailed her hand down his arm and he nearly dropped the keys. He took a deep breath and tried again. This time the key slid into the lock. And a good thing, too, because he was about two seconds away from just breaking down the door and to heck with the lock.
Lois was trying very hard to be as cool and collected as Clark was, but it was taking him so long to open the door. Who was this man? Had he always smelled this good? Was his smile that knowing before? Why was she spending so much time lost in memories of those hands on her body? Had he always been like this and she'd just missed it? Or was their affair creating some kind of generous haze in her brain where he was concerned?
"Clark," she asked as she followed him inside, "do you look at me differently now?"
Clark knew a loaded question when he heard one. "Differently?" he prompted, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a long-winded conversation.
"You're just… you seem different to me now." She walked down the stairs, stopping in front of his couch. Should she sit down? Were they going to talk first or should she go in the bedroom and start stripping?
"How am I different? I haven't done anything differently today than before." Clark watched her carefully. Was she talking because she was nervous? How invested was she in this conversation?
"I don't know. You're just different." Lois felt the idiocy of the words, but she couldn't think how to explain it. She sighed, wishing she had kissed him instead of trying to make small talk.
"Lois, I'm not the one sitting on your desk and flashing my underwear at you." He said it in a teasing voice, hoping it would draw her away from introspection and remind her that she started this.
She blushed and looked away. "You make it sound so dirty."
"Well, to me, it was. But I liked it." He put his hands on her waist and pulled her close against him.
"Really? I couldn't tell." Lois slid his suit coat off. "You were exactly the same as any other day. I guess that's what I'm talking about. You're acting just the same when you should be different."
He kissed her, murmuring his response against her lips. "You said I was acting different. Now you're telling me I'm the same? Make up your mind." His hands untucked her shirt from the waist of her skirt.
Lois tipped her head back. "Do you want to hear this or not?" She didn't give him time to answer; she had just realized what she was trying to say.
"It's like when I go to the store to get a hair color and I look for the girl on the box because I can never remember just which color it is. 'Dark Hazel'? 'Brazilian Brown'? I don't remember! So I look for the girl on the box because I can remember what she looks like. And then one day the box has a new model on it and suddenly I don't have a clue which color is mine!"
"So I look different on the outside but I'm the same on the inside?" He shifted, fitting their bodies closer together.
"No, you're the same on the outside. You're different underneath. You're… sexier… or something."
"Oh?" He grinned at her. That sounded promising. He bent and kissed her until her mouth opened to him. Then he broke the kiss to say, "I think I understand what you mean by the same but different."
"You do?"
"I look at you and I see the same person I've known for over a year a now." Clark kissed her lower lip, nipping it softly with his teeth. "And yet, I look at you and I can't help thinking about how it feels to kiss you or to touch you. I think about that sound you make."
"Do I really make that sound?" Her head suddenly felt too heavy for her neck to support.
"Yes." His eyes had gone dark. "Do you want me to show you?"
"Yeah," she whispered.
He dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach. His hands slid up the backs of her legs, his fingers lingering where the lace gave way to soft skin. He moved to kiss the inward curve of her waist and then he saw it. There was a dark angular bruise over her hip. His heart sank as he pulled his head back to discover an identical bruise on her other hip. He stood quickly, moving to look behind her and lifting the back of her shirt. There were four more graduated bruises lined up low on each side of her back.
"No," he whispered, closing his eyes and swaying on his feet.
"Clark?" Lois turned to look at him, perplexed that he looked so ashen. "What's wrong?"
His eyes opened and she saw guilt and fear in his expression. "Lois, I'm so sorry."
"What?" Was something wrong with him? With her?
"I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice was choked.
"Hurt me?" Relieved, she laughed. "You didn't hurt me. What made you think that?"
She followed his gaze to her hip and saw the bruise. "That? You think that hurt me? Clark, honestly! Should I start getting freaked out if I scratch your back in the heat of the moment?"
He shook his head. She didn't understand. She didn't know that he had done that, well, not on purpose, but uncomfortably close to deliberately. He had held her too tightly last night. And you did it intentionally, his conscience whispered. She hurt you by saying 'Superman' so you hurt her back. No - he hadn't hurt her by design. He had only wanted to… make her pay, his mind suggested slyly. You certainly made her pay, didn't you? You taught her a lesson.
"No," he whispered.
Lois put her hand on his chest, leaning closer to kiss him and he took a step back. "Are you kidding me? Clark, seriously, you didn't hurt me at all. Last night was amazing, I promise. If anything you were too gentle."
Clark wavered. He hadn't really hurt her. Surely she wouldn't lie about that. No, his conscience asserted itself again. She's not lying. You're the liar. You really want to hurt her? Tell her the truth.
"Lois," he started and then stopped. He couldn't tell her right now.
"Clark, listen to me. You're getting all upset over nothing." She shook her head. "And you're not weaseling out of this lunch, mister. It's my turn to pick how, right? Sit down." She nudged him backwards and he half-stumbled, half-sat onto the couch with an "oof".
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Lois sighed, feeling lethargic as Clark smoothed his hands along her back, savoring the feel of her skin. She giggled into his neck.
"What?" he asked.
"I didn't expect this."
"Expect what?"
"That it would be like this, with you. I thought we'd just have sex a few times and work out some frustrations but this is just creating a whole new set of frustrations." She nuzzled his neck, kissing the pulse still racing beneath his skin.
"Am I frustrating you?"
"You know what I mean. I didn't think I'd want you, um, this, so much. So often, I mean. Sex was never like this before."
"Like what?"
"So… sexy."
She kissed him, long and deep, and his arms tightened gently around her. Breathless, Lois reluctantly pulled away. She stood up, her legs seemed a little rubbery as she walked over to where her clothes lay.
"We should get back to work. Perry's going to kill us if we don't have something for him by four o'clock. At least we have the exclusive on Superman's meeting with Dr. Gatenby. I would imagine we can cite his name now," Lois said as she got dressed.
"Yeah, but Gatenby really didn't give us much to go on. I don't want to tip our hand to the elusive Mr. Johnson and let him know that someone is looking for him." Clark joined her, tugging his clothes on as he talked.
"Have you forgotten that I spent the morning calling every Johnson in Metropolis who works in electronics? I think he's going to figure that out soon enough."
He watched her pull on her skirt. "Hey, Lois, do me a favor. Don't sit on my desk like that again."
"Or what?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "What would you do if I did?"
"I'll help you redefine the word 'frustration'."
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Her phone was ringing when she returned home that evening. Lois ran into the kitchen and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Lois Lane?" It was a man's voice, low and deep.
"Yes?"
"I hear you're looking for me."
A stab of excitement shot through her. "Who is this?"
"I want you to give a message to your buddy, Superman, for me. You tell him to back off or next time I'll pick your brain instead."
"Excuse me?"
The line went dead. Lois looked at the phone, irritated that he had hung up so soon. She put the phone back in its cradle, wondering if he might call back. Then she caught sight of what was sitting on her kitchen counter.
A brain. Pale gray and whorled.
Lois froze, blinked a few times and then reached for the phone. She dialed with numb fingers and the room seemed to shift seismically as she waited for Clark to answer.
"Hello?"
"Brain," she managed to say before the room went dark around her.
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End 7/20
