PART SEVEN
Clark looked down at the copy of The Whisperer in his hand. Its headline glared back at him: DUAL IDENTITIES=DUAL LOVE? On the front page, there was a picture of Clark comforting Mayson in her office the other day. Although it had been platonic at the time, it did look very intimate out of context. Paired with that picture was one of Lois climbing up the side of his apartment with the caption reading “Secret mistress comes for a night’s stay.” The story in itself was ludicrous. It was mostly conjecture and extrapolation without a single reputable source, yet Lois was taking it particularly bad. She had not stopped pacing the conference room, and was cursing the Whisperer very inventively. Looking at the picture of Mayson in tears splashed across the page for the world to see, Clark felt heavy with guilt.
“Mayson must be going through hell,” he murmured. Lois paused mid-rant, and turned towards him, eyes flashing.
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that she doesn’t deserve all this attention. This whole thing has been difficult enough for her without everyone thinking we’re romantically involved.” He looked at Lois, who looked like she was ready to impale him with her pencil. “It’s just that I feel bad for her.” Lois’ face darkened. “But, I’m sorry I interrupted. Go back to your um… cursing. Or whatever.”
“Oh no Clark!” she said with false sweetness that didn’t reach her eyes. “By all means, let’s talk about how hard this is for Mayson. I mean she knew you…what, a few months? I’m sure you two got really close in that time. I’m sure she told you all sorts of intimate, secret stuff. Stuff she had never told anyone else before, stuff that she really trusted you with.” Lois was starting to warm up to her subject, growing more agitated and she went. “I’m sure that you came to her multiple times as two different people. Pretending to not know what the other one said. Making an idiot out of her. I’m sure she was completely torn, having to decide which one of you she could love, and which one was just a crush. I’m sure she just fell apart when you were killed by gangsters, and rejoiced when you were miraculously brought back to life. Oh, but wait… You never really were dead were you?” Clark winced at this accusation. Lois plowed on, her eyes starting to glitter.
“And you know, Mayson must’ve been really confused too, because whenever she wanted to have a serious conversation with you, you just ran off with some lame excuse. She probably thought it was because you weren’t really interested in her, even though it was really because you had to go hold up a bridge, or swallow a bomb, or whatever. Yeah Clark, you’re right. Mayson must be going through hell. Let’s talk about her.” At this, Lois collapsed in a chair, tears streaming down her face. Clark was stunned. He should have known this was coming, but he always pictured it going differently, with Lois storming out on him, leaving behind a trail of rage induced wreckage. He had not imagined this. For the first time, Clark truly realized all that he had put her through. He had reduced Lois to tears.
“Lois…” he couldn’t think of what to say.
“No, Clark, it’s okay.” She sniffed, and slowly inhaled shakily. “Last night, you said all the right things. You said all the things I needed to hear in order to forgive you, but it’ll take me a while to do that. This article just brought back all those memories of Lex, and being on the cover of all those tabloids. I know you need a friend right now; that you need support, and I’m going to do that. But I still need time to get through it all.” Her watery eyes burned into his. “I love you Clark, and I want to be with you.” Clark was overwhelmed with the love and support Lois was showing him. “It’s just going to take me more time to get through all this than I thought.” She paused. “You really hurt me you know.”
“I know that now Lois. I guess I just thought…” He trailed off. “Well, half the time I guess I wasn’t really thinking at all.” She gave a small chuckle.
“Well, that’s pretty obvious.” She lifted her head and looked at him. A gentle smile reached her lips as she reached up and stroked his hair.
“So,” Clark hesitated. “Where does that leave us?”
“We just need to take things a little slower. Can you do that?”
“Lois, I’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t do everything at super-speed you know.” She continued stroking his hair, and the spell that had been broken ever since Ralph’s interruption misted over them once again.
Suddenly, as if mentally shaking herself, Lois stood up. “We need to get to work on this shooter stuff. And we need to find out who would’ve planted Kryptonite in your desk. Jimmy’s been tracking down as much information as possible on the shooter, and Superman extremists so let’s see what he’s got so far.” With a determined look on her face she gathered up the copy of the Whisperer from the table and dumped it in the trash. “Let’s get to work partner!”
* * *
Lois sat amid a mass of papers, exhausted. Although Clark probably could have gone through these in seconds, he had been busy most of the morning with Superman emergencies. Although it was a lot easier to let him run off now that she knew the reason, it still made it difficult for her to be stuck in the conference room, sifting through papers. Her report’s instinct was screaming at her to grab her bag and dash off after him, but she knew that if she even tried to follow Clark, she wouldn’t be able to get very far. There was still a hoard of reporters swarming around the Planet ready to pounce if she tried to leave the building on foot. For the time being, she was trapped here. Clark walked into the conference room, straightening his tie.
“Sorry I had to rush off Lois.” He pulled up a chair and picked up some of the papers.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Pretty good, I got everyone out in time, and I was able to put out the fire pretty quickly so there’s limited damage to the building. But I had to spend twenty minutes answering questions from reporters. You’d think an apartment fire would be routine, hardly worth a headline.”
“Well, I think people are going to take any statement they can get for now.” Hesitantly, she continued. “Did they say anything about the article in the Whisperer?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to go into it too much. I just told them that the article wasn’t accurate and that my personal life was of no concern of theirs.” Lois bit her lip. Although she agreed with Clark’s policy of no personal information given to the press, she was less optimistic than him about the whole thing working.
“Clark, do you really think it’s going to work? You know, the whole keeping your identities separate thing?” Clark frowned.
“Maybe not right away,” he answered. “I’ll have to drive the point home. Any pictures taken of me will be mysteriously ruined, recording devices will malfunction, and after all, I am a very difficult person to follow.” He grinned playfully at her. “I’m sure they’ll get the hint in time.”
“Yeah. I’m sure they will,” she whispered, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Hadn’t that reporter been able to take a picture of him and Mayson without him noticing?
“So anyway,” Clark continued, changing the subject. “Have you found anything about our elusive shooter?”
“Not much,” Lois began. “Here’re the mug shots the police took of him the other night.” Lois passed him the pictures. “So far he’s refused to talk, refused his right to a phone call, and refused to even speak to the lawyer they gave him. Here’s the research Jimmy dug up on Superman extremists in the last year. For the most part they’ve been underground, probably afraid to do anything that might make you angry.” Clark’s mouth tightened and she jumped in to clarify. “Not that you would do anything violent or hurtful, it’s just that they don’t know you.” Lois glanced at a picture in the file. The picture was one that Jimmy has taken at the time of the heat wave. About to put it to the side, her attention was grabbed by a man standing in the corner of the shot. “Clark, take a look at this guy,” she said, handing him the picture.
“He looks like our shooter.” Clark pulled down his glasses and peered at the picture.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to make out the tattoo he has on his forearm. He was wearing a jacket so I didn’t see it the other night.” Clark picked up a pencil and paper, and drew a design at super-speed, then passed it to Lois. Slightly bemused at this sudden demonstration of ability, she looked at the paper. The symbol was like an upside-down triangle, with a stylized G in the center.
“Clark, this is really similar to the crest on your suit.”
“I know.” Clark nodded grimly, and opened the door to the conference room. “Jimmy!” he called. Jimmy walked over to the conference room.
“Hey CK! I’ve hardly seen you all day, been busy?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that but I need you to find any information you can about this design.” He passed Jimmy the paper. “Especially where it might have been used as a tattoo.”
“Sure CK, I’ll get right on it.” Jimmy exited the room just as Perry entered.
“Hey you two, how is the investigation coming along?”
“Perry, we may have just gotten a break! We found this picture of our shooter with a tattoo that Jimmy’s checking up on.” Lois passed the picture to Perry. “Hopefully, it will lead us to his organization.”
“Well that’s great! I just hope that-”
“Lois,” Clark interrupted, “was there a piece of paper wrapped around that chunk of kryptonite you pulled from my desk?” Perry looked shocked.
“Maybe, I didn’t really get a good look, I just wanted to shove it in the bag.”
“I’m pretty sure there was.” Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out the drawstring bag. “Can you get it off for me? There might be a clue.” Sometimes the thick-headedness of her partner astounded her.
“Clark! Why do you still have that? Why didn’t you throw it into the sun or something? I can’t believe you’re keeping kryptonite in your pocket!”
“What kryptonite? What in the Sam Hill are you two talking about?”
“Someone put a chunk of kryptonite in my desk this morning, Chief. Lois put it in this lead lined bag for me, so it’s safe for now.” Clark turned to Lois. “Can you get the paper for me?”
“Alright.” She took the bag in her hands. “Just fly off to the roof or something where this thing can’t hurt you.” Clark shook his head.
“No way Lois. Someone put the rock in my desk which means they probably have inside help. I’m not leaving you alone with this; whoever put it there might want it back.”
“But Clark, it’ll hurt you!”
“Then I guess you’ll have to be fast.” Lois wanted to smack that crazy grin off his face. How could he be so carefree about all this? Then again, she couldn’t see any other way around it. She knew that if she didn’t do it, then Clark would probably take the bag and dump it out anyway.
“Okay, here goes.” She drew in a deep breath; Clark tensed in anticipation of the pain. She pulled the bag open and almost immediately, Clark let out a gasp. Looking over at her weakening partner, Lois fought the urge to run over and help him. She needed to concentrate on her task and finish as quickly as possible. Prolonging this operation would only prolong his pain. She grasped the rock, and pulled it out of the bag. Sure enough, there was a piece of paper wrapped around the rock and held by an elastic band. Removing the paper, and taking a quick look inside the bag to make sure there were no other clues, she stuck the kryptonite back inside and closed it up. Clark was hunched over in his seat, pale and shaken.
“Clark, are you alright son?” Perry looked concerned and was bending over Clark
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he muttered. “I haven’t seen kryptonite this strong since I first encountered it in Smallville.”
“Allergies,” Lois muttered. Clark gave her a weak smile. “Well at least we have this chunk now. And we won’t be opening the bag again.” She glared at Clark.
“I don’t know if that’s going to cut it Lois,” Perry said. “Whoever put this kryptonite here wouldn’t just leave it to chance that it would harm him. My guess is that they have a stash and we haven’t seen the last of it.”
“What?!” Lois was scared. From what she’d seen, this stuff could really harm Clark. Even though he was starting to get his color back, he still looked a little weak, and that was only after a couple seconds of exposure. What would happen if someone decided to use it for a longer period of time?
“I think he’s right Lois,” Clark said shakily. “People who try to kill me usually go about it a bit more carefully.” Clark turned to face her. “What does the paper say on it?”
Lois opened the crumpled paper, and read the brief message. “It just says: ‘A Gift’ but that symbol, Clark; the one with the G? It’s written on here too.”
