Still no Becca in this part, I'm afraid. Thanks again for your comments on the first part. I really hope that I can do my title proud, though I somehow doubt that right now "serendipitous" is an appropriate description. 
Thanks to LaraMoon for doing the beta-reading. That must be an awful lot of work. From Part 1: Lois glanced over to Clark, who strolled towards his desk, still flipping through the folder. She shook her head. Where was the point in that? Was it a strange habit of his? There was no way he could read any of the words that fast. Having almost reached his desk, he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks. Clark turned incredibly pale at the sight of the unfriendly woman seated in front of his desk. Lois could have sworn that sweat appeared on his face, but she had never actually seen him sweating apart from that one night of sickness back on the 23rd of December.
Serendipitous Infinity
Part 2: Clark swallowed hard as he noticed the woman. He did not actually know who she was. Or, more precisely, he didn’t know her name. Because he was all but certain of what she had in store for him. He closed his eyes, wishing that this would make her disappear. But that was a futile and childish hope. Why on earth did she come to the Planet? Usually they showed up at his doorstep. Clark had made sure that the Child Services had gotten his change of address. And why did she come now, just one day after Christmas? Whatever fuzzy and light-hearted feeling the holidays and the returning of his powers had left in him was swept away and probably wouldn’t come back anytime soon. Clark sighed, trying to prepare himself for the conversation that was about to come.
He approached his desk, aware that there was no point in avoiding the woman. She would get him sooner or later and not even his flashy alter-ego could do anything about it. The entire way, he prayed silently for an emergency, though. He felt guilty for that, but only slightly. He always tried to be there in time for the emergencies, they really could come in time for him once in a while, Clark mused grimly. But the world was giving him the cold shoulder; it just remained annoyingly silent.
“Clark Kent?” the woman asked, icily. Her voice indicated that she wasn’t sure whether the man in front of her was really the right one. What did she expect? That he would be greeting her with a knife rather than just his hand? That he had tattoos all over his body or that the word dangerous was written on his forehead? He knew that she was one of those ladies from the Child Services that were visiting him with a frustrating frequency.
“Yes,” he replied with a forced smile and held out his hand.
“I’m here because of Rebecca Kent,” the woman said. She didn’t take his hand, she didn’t introduce herself, she just watched him like he was a particularly ugly piece of mud.
Clark couldn’t think of a single one of those ladies who had been unfriendlier than her. It looked like New Troy had already heard of him and had sent its worst watchdog. Clark tried to ignore her contemptuous expression, and forced himself to keep smiling. He failed.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as politely as he could. He knew what they wanted him to do: pass away, let his daughter be with his parents, something like that. He wagered that she would have liked to see him in the state he had been in last Friday.
“How is Rebecca?” the lady without a name asked, her voice threatening. How did she do that? She was smaller than him, he was the strongest man on Earth - he was Superman to crying out loud - but she intimidated him nonetheless.
“Alive and well,” Clark replied, somewhat annoyed. He tried not to show it, but it was tough. “She goes to school and likes it. I love my daughter, Mrs…” He made a brief pause, long enough to remind her that she hadn’t mentioned her name.
“Edwards. Mr. Kent, given your history, we have every reason to check on her. I just wanted to inform you that we’ll soon be visiting you at home.” She got up and turned around to leave, not telling him the exact date of her visit. Clark hadn’t expected that anyway, they were keen on surprises. He was startled though. After the past five years he could smell the Child Services staff for miles around. Usually they would just visit him, have a look at Becca and leave. Obviously Mrs. Edwards was of the worst kind. Why had she visited him here? To get a first impression? To see him when he wasn’t around his daughter? Or was she just trying to give him a hard time, to punish him for what he had done?
His knees felt weak and he noticed, embarrassed, that he was trembling. Clark sank down on his chair with a sigh and stared at nothing in particular. He only saw the film in the private cinema of his head, with all those agonizing pictures. He closed his eyes, trying to block them, but it was futile. He couldn’t escape these demons.
* * *
From a short distance Lois had watched the conversation between Clark and his mysterious visitor. Lois had dismissed the idea that she was a source. Unless she had told him something horrible, a source wouldn’t have had this effect on him. And Lois had clearly heard the name of Clark’s daughter, which she found very strange. But really frightening was the change of expression on her partner’s face – on her friend’s face, Lois corrected herself. He had never actually seemed pleased to meet the woman, but when he had approached her, Clark still had this air of politeness as he smiled at her, almost warmly. That hadn’t lasted long though. The smile had vanished completely, in a way that Lois hadn’t thought possible. She had seen him both smiling and serious, but even when he was really serious there was a smile hidden somewhere on his lips. This time, hard as she had tried, Lois hadn’t been able to detect one.
The lost smile had been the first step of the frightening change. Afterwards, Clark had turned paler than any ghost could ever be. And as if this hadn’t been enough yet, he had started trembling like a leaf. Lois knew that he wasn’t Superman, and that he could very well have his weak moments, but she didn’t quite understand how this strange woman had managed to push him into this state of distress. Clark was still staring into space when Lois went over to his desk, determined to find out what this was all about.
“Kent, Lane! In my office! Now!” Perry yelled through the newsroom.
Lois winced. *Not now,* she thought and was about to say that out loud when Perry repeated his order. She would have to go to him first. But anyway, she needed to wake Clark up, from whatever dreamland he had traveled to. She made her way to his desk and tapped on his shoulder.
“Clark,” she said, loud enough that he had to hear her. He didn’t. Lois repeated his name twice before Clark emerged from the place he had been.
“Huh?” he whispered, startled.
“Perry has called us, Clark,” Lois explained.
It took him a split second to return to his usual self. No one would have noticed that something had been wrong but Lois. She was amazed, but at the same time slightly annoyed. He had to have practice with hiding how he really felt. Lois had gotten a taste of that as he had been lying on the floor of his living room, telling his daughter that he was fine. It would have been convincing hadn’t he been flat on his back in the middle of his apartment. Lois sure wouldn’t leave it at that, but for now she had to concentrate on Perry. Their talk was postponed, not cancelled, Lois thought grimly as she followed Clark, who went right to the editor’s office.
Perry asked them about their progress in the arson story. Both Lois and Clark were frustrated by the time the research took. They chased after an enormous amount of loose ends that didn’t lead them anywhere. The arsonists hadn’t left any devices that could lead to him. The police was clueless and for three weeks now there had been hardly as much as a single hint. The name Henry Meadows had given Lois shortly before dying was just another dead end. They had found several people named Virdis in Metropolis, but none had Robert as their first name. Elsewhere in the country there were some matches, but none of them seemed to have any connection to either Metropolis or fires or Henry Meadows. It just seemed hopeless. And just to add to the flops of the last weeks, Lois still hadn’t found out anything about her mysterious savior. She had contacted Bobby Bigmouth once again and he had told her that maybe the owners of the local laundromat knew something. Lois had tried to find them, but she had only very little time and currently they were on vacation.
Lois was annoyed that they just couldn’t find anything reliable. She was tempted to blame it on Clark - she had never been so unsuccessful when she had still been on her own - but that couldn’t be it, because he was working hard. He was at her side whenever they had tried to investigate the arsons and Lois knew that he was good. Clark had proven himself as a worthy reporter more than once. It wouldn’t be reasonable to make him the scapegoat.
* * *
Clark managed to concentrate on the conversation with Perry. It was hard work, but he could do it. The editor-in-chief was mostly interested in the arson story. Lois filled him in with all the information they did *not* have. The story was really kind of frustrating. Whenever Clark had taken off to be Superman, he had also tried to find out more about these incidents and the mysterious man Lois’ neighbor had mentioned. It was to no avail. He had visited the remnants of the hotel, Lois’ apartment building and the docks. But no matter which power he used, he didn’t even get a hint.
Another topic on Perry’s list was Superman. He had been around for three weeks now and still hadn’t given an interview. Perry could hardly live with that. It appeased him only slightly that all the other papers around the city couldn’t write anything based on fact either. Of course the yellow press didn’t really care for facts and since people desperately wanted to know something about the local hero, they started to read other papers than the Daily Planet. Perry had already asked every available reporter to find out something about Superman, but it hardly led to any results.
Clark was careful. He didn’t want people to ask too many questions. He still suspected that someone would recognize Clark Kent in Superman if they only looked closely enough. Clark hadn’t actually planned for Lois to meet Superman twice in such a short time, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. The glances she shot the hero were addictive. The brief moments where he could make himself believe that she was in love with him were just too precious to let them pass.
“Great shades of Elvis! Kent!” Perry barked. “Are you listening?”
Clark flinched and noticed, embarrassed, that he had drifted away again. He gave Perry an apologetic look and nodded. Clark forced his concentration back to the newsroom. He had other problems than Lois Lane and if he didn’t want his life to go completely out of hand, he better not think about her.
“Kent, you write an interesting amount of articles about Superman’s rescues, more than anyone else. How do you do that?” Perry asked.
Clark shrugged. “I’m lucky, I guess.”
Obviously that wasn’t the answer Perry had expected to get. “Lucky, huh? Well you’d better use your luck and the two of you get me an interview with that man. I want to know everything!”
“Perry, I don’t…” Clark began.
Perry interrupted him. “I don’t want to know what you don’t. He has been in the city for three weeks now. I want this interview. Grab his cape and pull him down from the sky, if necessary.”
Clark didn’t make another attempt to argue. He just mumbled an agreement. Perry started telling them something else, but Clark wasn’t really listening anymore. Superman! He wasn’t up to adding the hero to his list of problems. As if it wasn’t just bad enough that he was deeply in love with a woman that he could never have and had to keep Becca safe. He felt drained and his thoughts were rushing back to Mrs. Edwards and what she had told him. As Perry showed his reporters out of his office, Clark just mumbled a quick good-bye and turned around to leave the editor’s office. He didn’t want to stay there for Lois and Perry to notice that something was wrong. Becca was strictly his own business. He couldn’t tell them anyway why Child Services were so keen on getting Becca away from him.
Clark moved through the newsroom unconsciously. He merely saw the shapes of his co-workers and stopped his pace only when it was absolutely necessary. In slalom, he walked to his desk, a safe haven in this beehive where he could pretend to work while the haze of memories washed over him. Clark sank down in his chair with a relieved sigh. He was glad that no one had asked him anything; at least he was pretty sure that nobody had.
For a brief moment, he had thought about spinning into the suit to escape the world. But whenever he changed into his alter-ego, the world was bidding for attention. It didn’t leave him alone to take a breath, let alone to think about the future. And after all, the desk had just been closer. In his current state of distress, he wasn’t sure whether he would have been able to go all the way to the staircase to vanish into a blur.
Clark leaned forward, seemingly reading a paper, but he didn’t even see a single black letter. The noises of the newsroom faded and left only those that were repeating over and over in his head.
to be continued...
