Previously:
“Give her time. You’ll see.” Grinned Clark.
“You see that’s the thing, I don’t think I have any time left.” Said Chris so gently that without his hearing he would’ve missed the last part.
----------------------
Part 3/?
Lois stared as she saw them leaving the building together. The same question kept coming back to her, repeating itself over and over again, like a broken record. Who is that woman? With her gold or maybe it was green, or was it sapphire eyes? Oh who cares what color her eyes are? Point is- what was her point again? Point is! She can’t just come here unannounced and just take him to lunch! Pfft, coming here with her great hair that I would kill to have and being this amazing writer. And why didn’t Clark tell me about her anyway? Who is she?!
It didn’t matter to Lois anyway. Since she doesn’t care who Clark goes out with. Yeah that’s right. She doesn’t care about Clark. <Keep saying that to yourself Lois, maybe someday you’ll believe it> ok this wouldn’t do. She needed to work. Not argue with herself over Clarks’ personal life.
Turning her attention back to her computer monitor, Lois realized that she had been staring at the screen for so long, that the daily planet screen saver had started. She shook her mouse and opened a new document for her story. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hands above her keyboard, ready to start writing the news. What was she doing here anyway? She should be in New York <And *you* should be writing the news! >
Giving herself a mental shake, Lois tried concentrating on writing her piece. As she started writing an actual comprehensible sentence, she felt Jimmy walking to the coffee machine behind her. Maybe Jimmy knows...<Oh dear god. Lo-is, don’t- aaand she’s gone.>. And before she knew it, she was up and at an almost run to the coffee machine. She was suddenly up for some coffee.
-----------------
SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK CITY…
Dean Brinkerhoff was a thirty-two year old New Yorker, born and bred. With a full head of brown hair, and killer blue eyes with a sense of humor that had gotten him more dates than he cared to count. He prided himself with his accomplishments, graduating as one of the top students at his college and getting his dream job on the first try, among other things.
It was ironic how much he hated his job now, he always wanted to write the news, and inform people of the worlds’ status. He did that all right, he just didn’t know it would result in a divorce and not being able to see his kids on a regular basis.
His wife; that was another thing that was ironic in his life, he had a crush on her since he couldn’t remember, it was freshman year in high school actually, he remembered when and where he began to like her, he just chose to block it out of his memory. All his life, everything he did as a kid, he did it for her. Just so she would notice him, and have an interest in him. So he started to work out and do all the things that people do, and after coming home for a visit after finally graduating from college, he finally got his date with her. He loved her more than anything, loved being the key word in his mind. And now he couldn’t stand being in the same room with her without wanting to poke her eye out with his pen. It was definitely ironic.
He was trying to remember what was also ironic in his life when it happened, in the middle of the sidewalk. He saw a black van stop in front of him at the same time as he was pushed. He was about to hit the door when it suddenly opened and he fell inside, hitting his head in the process.
“OHH!! Motherff- why do we always have to go through this? You could’ve just stopped the car and told me to get in. You just want to give me a heart attack, don’t you?” he said, screaming at the man sitting in front of him, as the car started moving.
“Pipe down, will you? You always say that…” replied the man, annoyed.
“I’ll stop saying it, when you stop shoving me into the car.” Said Dean annoyed as well.
“We’re not gonna stop doing it.”
“Well then, I’m not going to stop saying it.”
“So where are we with everything?”
God, he hated it when people say ‘we’ they’re not even doing anything, there is no ‘we’ when these people are concerned.
Rolling his eyes, he answered, “She’s gone.” He finished with a sigh.
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gooo-ne!!”
“What do you mean by ‘gone’?” asked the man.
“How many ‘gones’ are there?” Dean asked feeling really annoyed <Jeez this guy is more stupid than he looks>
“Two.”
“Two? How do you get two?”
“There’s ‘good-gone’ and there’s ‘bad-gone’”
“Oh, well this is definitely ‘bad-gone’”
Pinching his nose, the man tried to keep his anger in check, this was not good news at all, and he didn’t want to tell the big man the news, he was sure he wouldn’t like it.
“Where’s she gone at?” the man asked after taking another deep breath.
<To. Gone to, not at, you moron…> “I don’t know. I was on my way to find out, when you kidnapped me.”
“Look man, I’m gonna give this to you straight. I like you. I really do.”
Dean sat up straighter at that, <What the hell? Is he coming on to me? >
“But I will kill you if don’t do what you’re asked to do. I don’t want to, but I will. Are we clear?”
With a fake smile he answered, “Crystal.”
The man gave the two guys behind Dean a nod, and before he knew it, the car had slowed down and Dean was thrown on to the street, just like the way he had gotten off it.
“Bye, thanks for the ride.” Said Dean sarcastically as he straightened his clothes.
Dean waited until the car was out of his sight before he looked at his surrounding.
“Where the hell am I?!”
----------------------
To Be Continued..
[Changing header of post to reflect new story title, so that readers can find all of the parts easily - LabRat]