Chapter Thirty-Five
>>>Sunday, 6:51 AM (Rio time)
Lois picked up the heavy machine gun as if it weighed nothing and pressed the trigger. The bullets punched through the thin metal wall and door and penetrated the fragile flesh beyond. Then, just for fun, she changed her aim slightly and wrote her name with bullet pockmarks.
“Look, Lana! My name is on the wall! Just like Sherlock Holmes!”
She glanced down at her feet and saw the piles of empty cartridges around her knees and ankles. There must be thousands of them, she thought. She looked up again and peered through the bulkhead to see bodies stacked on top of more bodies, all of them with empty eye sockets and mouths full of blood. They lurched aimlessly as if trying to get away from her.
“Yech!” She fired another long burst through the wall at them. “Just die already, will you? Just die!”
She felt a slight tug on her slacks and looked down to see Lana slumped against her leg, covered with holes oozing blood. Lois bent down and touched the other woman on the shoulder. Mud fell from Lana’s hair and plopped onto the dirt floor.
Lana smelled of cordite and fetid water and smoke and mud and death. “Just hang on, partner, Superman will be here soon and he’ll make everything all better!”
Lana opened her mouth to answer, but she only coughed up blood and bile and more empty cartridges and bits of bone and then a skeletal hand and then she buzzed like a thousand wasps boring in on their position –
Drenched in sweat, Lois lurched up out of her dream. She threw the silken covers off the bed to the floor and ran to the gleaming bathroom and found that being super didn’t keep her from feeling like she was throwing up everything she’d eaten for the past three days.
As she got control of her rebellious stomach, she brushed layers of dampness from her arms and face. It was definitely time for a long hot shower. And a long session with Mr. Toothbrush and Mr. Mouthwash.
First, turn off that stupid digital alarm clock. Surely there was a switch on this stupid thing –
Then she realized that it wasn’t her alarm clock, it was the one next door, the one on the other side of her room from Lex’s suite. She hadn’t even set her own alarm. Somebody was lucky she was too sweaty and smelly and distracted to go over there and smash it into tiny little pieces and then smash the pieces into even tinier little pieces.
The other alarm finally shut off as she sat on the bed trying to slow her heartbeat. Did Clark ever get sick like that? Did Clark ever feel inadequate? Did he ever consider himself a failure?
She shook her head. Of course he did. She’d seen him, talked to him, listened to him when he felt that way. But he always picked himself up and moved forward. And it was time for Lois to do just that.
She looked at the clock in her hands. Ten till seven. Lex would be at her door soon, and she didn’t dare let him see her like this.
*****
Lois leaned back into the Corinthian leather seat in Lex’s private jet. She knew that she could listen in on Asabi’s conversation with the control tower if she wanted to, but she hadn’t learned Portuguese over the weekend so it would be a useless act.
The weekend had been – she wasn’t sure what to call it. ‘Fun’ didn’t fit. Neither did ‘invigorating’ or ‘fascinating.’ And she was too wrung out to think about it. She settled on ‘interesting’ only because she didn’t have her thesaurus with her.
Breakfast had been far more sedate than their dancing the previous night, and she was sure Lex had no idea why that was. He’d begun their morning by knocking on her door just after seven and breezily inviting her to sample the hotel’s morning menu. Despite trying to put on a good front, Lois hadn’t been a very pleasant meal companion, and she knew that Lex was working hard to hide his frustration.
She hadn’t eaten much that morning despite the large quantity and high quality of the food presented to her. And by the time Lex had finished eating, he’d given up on trying to cheer her up. It just wasn’t happening, and his patience was almost thin enough to see through.
They’d been in the air for nearly an hour when Lex walked to her seat and offered her a soft drink. She smiled wanly and took it. “Thanks.” Then she drained it without stopping.
Instead of leaving, he sat in the chair facing hers and took her free hand in his. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”
She opened her mouth, then shook her head and closed it again.
He rubbed the back of her hand – the one with the shotgun pellet scar on the back – and sighed. “Please, Lois, let me help.”
She looked at the scar, watched Lex’s thumb glide softly over it, and sighed deeply. “I just can’t get those villagers out of my mind.” Her head fell back and her eyes closed. “So many people dead.”
“You couldn’t have helped them, Lois. Even Ultra Woman got there too late to do much.”
That hit a nerve. “Excuse me? What do you mean by that?”
He sat back and lifted his hands in token surrender. “Wait, now. I only meant that no one can save everyone. Superman can’t, Ultra Woman can’t, and certainly neither of us can.”
Lois straightened in her seat and leaned forward. “Ultra Woman did her best to help those people! If she hadn’t arrived when she did, there might not have been any survivors at all!”
Lex appeared stunned by her outburst. “Actually, Lois, I agree with you. Ultra Woman saved quite a few people, I’m sure, and she helped recover a number of the bodies. At least those families will know where their loved ones lie.”
“Yeah?” She sat back, robbed of her opportunity to pick a fight. “You’re right, Lex. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite all right. You’ve had a tiring weekend.” He stood. “Would you like something else to drink?”
She nodded listlessly. “Thanks. You pick out something for me.”
He smiled as he made his way to the bar. “That may be a first.”
“What?”
“You allowing me to select your beverage. I don’t recall having that privilege before.”
She knew he was trying to engage her in light conversation, trying to draw her out of her funk, but her better judgement was apparently on a vacation far, far away. Instead of entering into the gentle spirit he was trying to produce, she snapped back at him. “I don’t like to be told what to do or where to go or what to eat and drink when I get there.”
He turned suddenly. “I know that, my dear.” He lifted the glass and presented it to her with a forced flourish. “Here you are, a banana daquiri. I hope it isn’t too sweet.”
She gave him a sharp look and repeated the first biting comment that burst into her mind. “Because it would clash with my sour mood?”
Once spoken, the words could not be called back. And their effect was instantly evident.
Lex stopped in mid-offer, then clenched his teeth in a rictus grin. He gently lowered the tray table in front of Lois and placed the glass in the recessed holder. “Please excuse me, my dear. I have some business to which I must attend.”
She watched his icy control take hold. He turned and strode softly but purposefully to the office area in the back of the cabin. As he gently closed the door, she took in a breath to call out to him to come back, to forgive her, to hold her as she cried over the ones who’d died because she wasn’t super enough.
But she didn’t.
Nice going, Lane, she told herself. You wondered what you’d have to do to drive him away. Now you know.
>>>Sunday, 8:41 AM (Metropolis time)
Rebecca stretched her arms out and lifted the blanket from her shoulders. Bed feels funny, she thought. Too hard and too much like –
She lurched awake and stared around her at the apartment she was in.
It was Clark’s apartment!
But why was she still here? Did she and Clark – did they?
She ran her mind back over the previous night. They’d danced – they’d danced a lot – they’d laughed, he’d let her kiss him, they’d let Bonnie get some rest and sat down together on the couch and watched some TV and talked and –
And then what? She checked the state of her clothing. Except for her shoes resting neatly on the floor beside the couch, nothing was missing or even out of place. Had she just fallen asleep in the middle of pouring out her heart to him? Could she have been that dumb?
She took a deep breath and smelled something wonderful. An involuntary gasp popped out of her mouth at the scents coming from the kitchen.
Clark pushed through the small swinging doors to the kitchen and placed two large glasses of orange juice on the table. Then he looked up and smiled.
“Good morning, sleepyhead! Do you like strawberry waffles for breakfast?”
She inhaled again. The incredible odors almost made her dizzy. “Um, yeah, that sounds great.” Then an unavoidable body process nudged her. “Uh, Clark, I, uh, I need to, uh, fix my makeup and, uh – “
He grinned and pointed. “Through the bedroom door and to the left. Towels and washcloths in the cabinet behind the door.”
She stood and took two unsteady steps before her sense of balance came back on-line. “Thanks. Be right back.”
“No problem. Just leave a quarter beside the sink when you’re through.”
She missed another step, then recovered, bent down, and smoothly picked up her purse as she disappeared through the bedroom, all without looking back. She found the quarter without any trouble and smiled as she clicked it down beside the porcelain basin.
*****
“So, just exactly what did happen last night?”
He capped the syrup bottle and put it back on the table. “Before or after you forcibly assaulted the Land of Nod?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I know what happened before I dropped off, which was basically nothing.”
“Not true.” He paused to slice his waffles into bite-sized chunks. “We talked about your career plans. Very interesting.”
“Oh, yeah, real good romantic fodder.” She mimed holding a child on her knee and spoke in a quavering voice. “’Honey, guess what your grandfather and I did the night I fell asleep on his couch, before we even started dating seriously.’ ‘What did you do, Granny?’ ‘I told him all about how I wanted to set a record for most articles published in Marine Biology Monthly before I was thirty.’ ‘Did you, Granny?’ ‘Yes, I did, honey, which is why you’re just an imaginary grandchild.’”
She shook her head ruefully as he laughed. “Please, Clark, I feel enough like an idiot this morning. There’s no need to rub it in.”
He patted her hand. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I’m just glad you’re not upset at me for letting you sleep on my couch.”
She tried a small smile. “I guess it’s a little funny. Really, I didn’t intend to stay here all night.”
“No problem. It’s not like you were in the way.” He glanced at her empty plate. “Would you like some more waffles?”
“No, I’m full! That was great, Clark. Thank you.”
He stood and began clearing the table. “You’re more than welcome. Let me rinse these dishes and I’ll be right back.”
She rose and followed him into the kitchen silently. As he turned away from the sink, he gave a surprised little jump. “Hey! What are you doing in here?”
She picked up a dishtowel. “As I recall, you’re the dishwasher. I’m volunteering to help.”
He grinned. “You don’t have to, you know.”
“I know. I want to. And you’d better take advantage of it while you can. I’m not exactly housebroken.”
“Oh, I think you’ll do.”
She smiled and took up a position in front of the sink. “You wash, I dry?”
“Sounds good to me. Let me get the dish soap started.”
As the water ran, she played with the towel. I have to ask him.
No you don’t, she told herself.
Yes I do, she responded. I have to know.
He turned to her and opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it. “How often do you have couch guests, Clark?”
His face twisted in amusement. “Couch guests?” Then he turned serious. “Wait a minute. You’re asking me if I make a habit of making breakfast for attractive young single ladies who have spent the night on my living room sofa, aren’t you?” He blinked twice. “Or maybe somewhere else?”
I told you not to, she said to herself.
Thanks a lot, she said back to herself.
“Never mind, Clark, it’s none of my business and I was out of line to ask.” She turned away from him and leaned against the sink.
He handed her a plate and she wiped it dry before fitting it into the dish drainer on the cabinet. Next came another plate, then a glass, then he said, “No. You weren’t out of line. And if you meant what Bonnie was singing about last night, then it is your business.”
She didn’t look in his direction as she fitted another glass onto the drainer. She reached for the next item, but instead of receiving another wet glass or dish she heard Clark letting the water out of his side of the sink. He sighed and said, “You’re the first woman to even be in this apartment since Lana died, except for the real estate agent and her family who came by to console me. No one except me has slept here since then, and I haven’t entertained anyone here, male or female.”
She lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Not even Lois? I mean, she hasn’t been in the apartment at all?”
“No.” His breath caught for a moment, as if he were considering something he’d never thought about, then he continued, “Lois hasn’t been in the apartment since the night before Lana died.”
Rebecca turned and gazed up at his face. It was stony hard, and the light over the window cast a grim shadow on the near side of his head. He was leaning against the sink and gripping it as if he wanted to tear it out of the wall. So she did the first thing that came into her head.
She slipped her arms around him and held him tight. After a moment, his arms encircled her. His breath stuttered for a moment, then settled down, and she marveled anew at his immense strength and incredible control. All at once, even though she knew that Clark could crush her like a sparrow in his hand if he decided to, she felt both completely safe and utterly protected in his embrace. She knew that nothing could hurt her as long as Clark held her close to him.
Except, maybe, Clark himself.
After a long minute, she felt his arms slacken. She let go and stepped back, not caring that her face was damp. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Clark, will you let me tell you something?”
He took her hand in his and gently pulled it down to his chest. “Does it have anything to do with a certain CD with eight copies of the same song?”
She chuckled and sniffled at the same time. “Yes.”
“Then – no. I’m not ready to hear it. Not yet.”
Her heart almost stopped.
Then it started again. She hadn’t thought that it would.
She stepped back a little more. “Oh.”
He grimaced and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca! I’ve led you on and made you think that I was looking for – for something permanent. I’m not. Not yet. It’s – it’s just too soon for me.”
She clamped down on her tears and nodded. “You’re right. It’s too soon. You’re still grieving, and I’ve been pushing you way too hard. I’m sorry, Clark, because it’s my fault.”
“Becca, I – “
“No.” She stopped his mouth with her fingers because hearing him explain would be too painful. “I – I have to go. Just – please don’t say anything. Not anything.”
He hesitated, then nodded once. She turned around and found her purse, then the front door, and then somehow she was in the elevator and she pushed the button for the ground floor and then the tears came.
It’s over, she wailed to herself. I put my heart out for him to take and he pushed it away. I’ve really screwed up this time.
>>>Sunday, 7:15 PM
Lois pushed through her apartment door and dropped her overnight bag with a sodden thump. She was super. She could lift buildings and fly. She shouldn’t be so tired.
But she also knew her exhaustion wasn’t a physical state but a mental one. After landing with Lex, he’d coolly offered to have Asabi drive her home, but she’d insisted on a cab, which he in turn had insisted on paying for. She’d glanced back once as the cab pulled away from Lexcorp’s private hangar. Lex had already turned away and was speaking to Asabi and gesturing emphatically with his hands.
She’d slumped down in the seat and wondered how she could have mangled things so badly so quickly.
Suddenly going straight home hadn’t sounded like a good idea. She’d leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder and asked, “Can you take me to the Daily Planet instead of where I said first?”
The cabbie had chuckled. “Lady, for two c-notes I’ll take you pretty much wherever you want, long as it’s in the city.”
Two hundred dollars? she’d thought. Lex must be happy to be rid of me.
She’d gone to her desk and attacked every piece of overdue paperwork and folder of story notes on her desk. By late afternoon, her desk had looked like a mad cleaning crew had stormed it without taking any prisoners.
The only other person in the newsroom had been Cat Grant. Cat had taken one look at Lois and held her silence for the two hours she’d been there, except to bid her good-bye when had Cat left for the afternoon. Lois’s grunted response had followed the auburn-haired columnist to the elevator.
And Lois had missed the appraising looks Cat had given her during the time they’d been there together. She’d also not noticed Cat pulling out her special cell phone before the elevator doors had even closed.
When there was nothing else to read, no other notes to cross-index, no forms left uncompleted, no e-mails left unread, Lois had closed down her workstation and put her head in her hands and tried to cry.
The tears wouldn’t come and she hadn’t known why. And the black feeling had hovered over her as she’d walked to her apartment. It still clung to her as she flipped on the light and perfunctorily locked her door behind her.
The flashing message light on her answering machine caught her eye. Lex again, she sighed. Then she reconsidered. Surely he wouldn’t call so soon after what had seemed to her to be a permanent breakup.
She tapped the button and Rebecca’s pained voice floated from the speaker. “Lois, this is Becca. Well, I did it! I pushed him away! I feel so stupid! I – please call me! I can’t talk to a machine about my lousy personal life!” She sniffed once and said, “Please call me.”
Lois checked the timestamp on the machine’s display as the message ended. She’d called just after noon today.
Lois picked up the phone and punched out Rebecca’s number. It rang four times, and Lois was about to change into Ultra Woman and fly over there when a wan voice finally answered, “Hello?”
“Becca! This is Lois!”
“Oh. Hi.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you called. I just got back home.”
“Okay, no problem.”
The girl was too listless, too calm. “Rebecca, are you all right? What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. Clark broke up with me this morning.”
This morning? What was she doing with Clark this morning? Or – or last night? And why did she feel so – so almost angry about that possibility? Why did the prospect of Rebecca spending the night with Clark feel so – so very wrong to her?
She mentally shook herself and asked, “Rebecca, do you want me to come over there?”
“Thanks. But I’m okay now. Well, not okay like everything’s just peachy, but I’m not in danger of doing something stupid.”
Lois sighed. “That’s good to hear. But are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”
“I’m sure. But lunch tomorrow would be nice. We can go somewhere private and you can tell me that there are lots of fish in the sea and other dumb cliches like that.”
“If that’s what you want. Where do you want to meet?”
“Let me swing by the Planet about eleven-thirty. Will that work?”
“Sure, that should be fine.” Lois grunted. “You can feed those same old saws back to me.”
For the first time, Rebecca sounded interested in the conversation. “What? Oh, no, Lois, are you telling me that – “
“That I broke up with a multi-millionaire? That I’m not nearly as smart as my answering machine? Yes.”
There was no sound from the other end of the phone for a long moment, then Rebecca chuckled ruefully. “What a pair we are. I push too hard and run one off and you – well, you’ll tell me all about it tomorrow. I guess you and I deserve each other, don’t we?”
Despite herself, Lois smiled. “Yeah, we do. Look, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Hey, I could ask you the same question.”
“You could. Why don’t we save the gory details until tomorrow? I’m sure hearing them all spoken aloud would really help my digestion.”
Rebecca laughed softly. “Mine, too. Okay. See you tomorrow for lunch.”
“It’s a date. Hey, Becca?”
“Yeah?”
Lois hesitated. “I’m sorry about you and Clark.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry about you and Mr. Luthor, too. But I think I’m a little better off than you are.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“You have to work in the same room with Clark, but I probably won’t see my boss for days. You’ll have to work with a rejected man, and all I have to do is work for one.”
Lois laughed back. “I think I’ll survive. See you tomorrow.”
She put the phone down softly. So Rebecca and Clark are no longer an item, she pondered. I wonder what happened? And after she spent the night with him?
And is he ready for someone else to step in?
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and told herself that Rebecca would hear just as much detail from her tomorrow as Lois would hear from Rebecca.
>>>Monday, 11:22 AM
Clark snuck yet another glance at Lois, and she was still bent over her workstation, alternately checking something in her notes and typing aggressively. And she hadn’t spoken to him at all that morning, save for a muttered “Morning, Clark” as he walked past her desk on his way to his own desk. Nor had she met his gaze either during or after the Monday staff meeting. And she’d locked down the link from her end, too. He knew that Perry had noticed her behavior, but he hadn’t called her in to ask about it.
Nor had he asked Clark about her obvious discomfort. And Clark wasn’t sure which bothered him more, not knowing or not being asked to help her.
He turned back to his desk and began a list of phone numbers for follow-up on the story Perry had assigned to him that morning. Before he finished, he realized that someone was standing beside his desk.
He looked up to see a hesitant Lois. “Clark? Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Um.” She bit her lip, then shook her head. “Look, I’ll just tell you straight out. Rebecca called me yesterday and I’m meeting her for lunch. She and I need to talk, and you happen to be one of the subjects.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
She lifted her hands a few inches and then dropped them against her hips. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not going to let whatever happened between you two affect our work relationship.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I know how close you and Rebecca are.”
“Yeah, well, it’s too bad that she – that you and she – I mean, after last night – I mean the night before last and all – and – “
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She waved her hands. “None of my business. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
He almost smiled. “Lois, did Rebecca tell you that she spent the night with me?”
“Yes. Wait – no, not really, just – you know, girl talk, she told me without really telling me.”
“You must have misunderstood her. I spent the night in the bedroom, but she spent it on the couch.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Alone.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “I’m sorry, Clark. It’s just – I thought that was out of character for you, and I was trying very hard not to be mad at you for sleeping with her and dumping her the next morning. I’m glad it didn’t happen that way and I’m sorry I even thought that of you.”
He nodded again. “Thank you. I appreciate your telling me that.” He waited a moment for her to speak, and when she didn’t, he said, “Really. Thank you a lot.”
Instead of replying, she slowly reached out and picked up a folder from the top of his desk, the one with the index tab which read “Luthor, Lex.” He thought about snatching it back, but decided it would make things even more awkward than they were already about to be.
She opened the folder and leafed through it. When she finished, she snapped it closed and tossed it onto his desk. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath and appeared to count to ten.
“Clark?”
Cautiously, he replied, “Yes, Lois?”
“Why is that folder on your desk?”
“Because you just threw it there.”
She bent down and slapped the folder hard enough to drive it into the top of the desk. “That’s not what I meant and you know it! Why do you have confidential information from the district attorney’s office about Lex?”
He stood and backed away a step. “Because I wanted to make sure he was who you thought he was.”
She stepped closer and glared up at his nostrils. “And what have you decided, oh mighty and wondrous seer?”
The insult hit home. “Wait a minute! I’m following the investigation where it goes! It’s what you’d do if you weren’t so wrapped up in the guy!”
She gritted her teeth and shook with anger, then she hissed, “Conference room! Now!”
*****
Rebecca stepped off the elevator, feeling as if she were underwater, swimming past a nest of hungry Moray eels in a coral reef. She had no idea how Clark would react to her presence, and in fact she wasn’t sure how she’d react to his presence. But she was determined not to let him prevent her from doing what she wanted to do. She loved him, but she refused to stop living if she couldn’t have him. That was for tawdry love songs and trashy novels and cheap movies, not for adults in the real world.
She looked around, looking for either Lois or Clark, but saw only the back or side of everyone’s head. She followed their line of sight and saw the closed door of the conference room.
Curious, she stepped down into the bullpen and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder. “Hey, Prince Edmund, what’s going on? Where’s Lois?”
“Hey, Becca.” Jimmy’s head wobbled but didn’t quite turn to face her. “She’s in the conference room.” He took a breath. “With Clark.”
“What?” No way! He’d broken up with her twenty-four hours ago, and he was in there making out with Lois? Who’d just broken up with another guy?
Just then, Perry White stuck his head out of his office. “Olsen! Where’s Clark and Lois?”
“Uh, in the conference room, Chief.”
“Well, get them! There’s a hostage situation at the Metro National Bank! Tell them to get down to the downtown office and cover it!”
Perry disappeared into his office with a slam. Rebecca looked at Jimmy, who fidgeted in place for a moment but made no move towards the closed door.
“Jimmy?”
“Uh-uh. I’m not going in there right now.”
Now she was starting to get mad. “Fine! Move!”
Jimmy reached for her but missed. “Rebecca, wait! I don’t think you should – “
She threw the door open and marched in, never hearing Jimmy’s plaintive “ – go in there right now?”
The scene before her stunned her. Physically, Clark and Lois were nearly as close to each other as two people could be, but there was no affection in their body language or in their expressions. They were hissing almost inaudibly at each other. Rebecca listened for a moment but couldn’t decipher what they were saying. All she could detect was their hissing sibilance.
Neither one had noticed her entrance. “Hey! Hey, you two!”
There was no response. She exhaled deeply. “Idiots, both of you!”
Still no response. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the rest of the crew in the newsroom, including Jimmy, had stepped away from the open door.
She’d get no help from that quarter. She shook her head and put two fingers in her mouth, then blew as hard as she could.
The explosive whistle worked better than she’d hoped. Both Lois and Clark slapped their hands to their ears and winced badly as they stepped away from each other. Funny, she thought, I didn’t know Mike’s whistle worked that well. It had never felt physically painful to her. Maybe just being in the enclosed room made it seem so loud.
Lois recovered first. “Rebecca! What are you doing here?”
She put her fists on her hips and scowled at them. “I don’t know why you two are in here arguing, but your boss wants you both at the downtown office of the Metro National Bank right now.”
Clark grimaced as he stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “Why, are they giving away toasters again?”
“No! There’s a hostage situation and he wants you to cover it!”
Their faces transformed instantly, almost as if two different people had abruptly taken up residence in their bodies. Lois looked at Clark. “You check with the police and emergency services – “
“You check on the hostages and see if any are hurt.”
They brushed past Rebecca as if she weren’t there. They were still talking about their coverage plan when they disappeared into the stairwell.
Rebecca walked out of the conference room and closed the door. She looked around to see the rest of the newsroom sighing in apparent relief. Perry chose that moment to pop out of his office again. “Olsen! Where are Kent and Lane?”
“On their way, Chief.”
“Good!” And he disappeared again.
Jimmy turned to Rebecca and sighed with obvious relief. “Thanks. I’m not sure I would have survived going in there.”
“Glad to help. Unfortunately, I’m now without a lunch date.”
“Oh. Were you meeting Clark?”
“No, I was going to meet with Lois.” She stepped closer and stared into Jimmy’s eyes. “But I think you’ll do.”
His eyes widened. “Uh – do for – for what?”
“Information. I want to know more about Clark Kent. And about his relationship with Lois. They flipped from furious and almost murderous to professional and cooperative awfully fast.” She grabbed his elbow and dragged him towards the door. “I assume you get a lunch break?”
“Sure I do, but – “
“Good. Then you can explain everything to me. I need to understand what I just saw.”
He leaned towards the coat rack and just managed to snag his windbreaker. “Just for the record, what did you see?”
She punched the elevator button and leaned towards him. “Clark and Lois were about five seconds away from a knock-down drag-out brawl when I walked in on them.”
“I know!” He snorted. “That’s why I didn’t want to go in there!”
“I understand. But when they heard that there was an emergency – and a story – they were like two soldiers in a foxhole surrounded by the enemy. No one could have hurt either of them without going through the other.”
The elevator door slid open. “They’re professionals. They’ve both been pros as long as I’ve known them.”
“Yeah, but there’s more there than that.”
His eyes widened. “There is?”
She pushed the button for the ground floor and smiled coyly. “And you’re going to tell me all about Clark, all about Lois, and most especially everything you know about the two of them.”
His voice went up half an octave. “I am?”
“Oh, yes, you are, my frightened prince.”
Rebecca dragged Jimmy to the deli on the first floor of the Planet building and quizzed him about Clark incessantly. And when Jimmy wasn’t able to settle her mind about Clark’s relationship with Lois, she leaned back and picked at her potato chips and wondered just how close those two really were.
And whether or not they both knew how close they were.
She never did get that lunch with Lois.
*****
Cat hefted the phone and considered flushing it down the toilet, then shook her head. It wasn’t the phone’s fault that she was someone’s spy. It was her own. And there was nothing she could do about it.
The phone rang four times at the other end. She chuckled wryly and thought about leaving a humorous message instead of actually talking to her slavemaster.
Slavemaster. The thought sobered her instantly.
No, she wouldn’t leave a message. Especially not a funny one.
“Yes, Ms. Grant?”
The sudden response startled her. “Oh! Uh, sorry, I thought you’d want to know that Lois and Clark are both on a story, a hostage situation at a bank downtown.”
“I see. Is that all?”
“No. Both of them are now back on the dating scene.”
The distorted voice turned even drier. “And how did you come by that piece of information?”
Irrationally, Cat’s irritation rose. “Look, I don’t pry into your business! I give you what I have and that’s it!”
The voice was silent for several seconds, long enough for Cat to fear that she might have made a serious mistake. Then the voice came back on the line. “As long as you continue giving me what you have, Ms. Grant, I’ll be satisfied. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
She did her best to sound repentant. “No. That’s all I have at the moment.”
“Good. I anticipate your next contact by the end of the week.”
“But – “
“Good-bye, Ms. Grant.”
The connection dropped. Cat stared at the phone in her hand and shuddered.
Something had to change. And soon. She simply could not go on this way for much longer.
>>>Tuesday, 10:11 AM
“Kent! Lane! Get in here now!”
Clark put the coffee pot back on the burner as Lois snatched up a pad of paper and a pencil. He almost stepped on her heels as she entered Perry’s office.
Clark closed the door as Lois asked, “What’s up, Perry?”
“First of all, great job on that hostage story yesterday. That story may be a Kerth nominee come spring.” He lowered his voice and asked, “Are you sure that neither Superman nor Ultra Woman needed to make an appearance there?”
Lois looked at Clark and nodded to him, as if delegating to him the job of super-spokesperson. Clark said, “The police and fire departments did everything perfectly, Chief. They handled the situation by the book and nobody got hurt. They didn’t need any super-help this time.”
The editor nodded sagely and sat on the edge of his desk. “That’s what I thought. So, on to other business. Lois, have you been able to connect anything illegal to Lex Luthor or any of his top-level employees?”
She frowned. “You called us in for that?”
“Not entirely. Just answer the question.”
Lois looked at Clark, who shrugged helplessly. “No. Clark still thinks something isn’t right, but we haven’t been able to connect Lex to anything.”
“Not even with the information from my wife’s office?”
Clark frowned. “I got that first folder from her, but it didn’t help as much as I hoped it would. We still have nothing we can print.”
Lois turned to Clark with flashing eyes. “Because there’s nothing to get! I told you that Lex isn’t a criminal, but no! You don’t believe me!”
Clark took a breath to respond, but Perry cut him off. “Now hold it, both of you! I know this isn’t a new disagreement between you, but you’ve got to let it go. Kent, I want you to drop this crusade against Luthor until you have some real proof to show us.”
Lois smiled thinly and crossed her arms. Clark rose up on his toes and lifted his hands. “Come on, Chief, you – “
“I’m not done yet!” Perry turned to Lois. “Lois, I want you to stop rising up in automatic defense of Luthor unless you can definitively say he isn’t the ‘Boss’ you’ve been chasing.”
“He’s not, Perry! I just know it!”
“Knowing it and proving it are two different things! Now you two will agree to disagree, right now, together. Just shake hands.”
Clark and Lois looked at each other warily. Perry moved closer and took each one by the near elbow and pulled them together. “You two shake hands! I won’t have any more exhibitions like the one you two put on yesterday morning. You’re too good and you work too well together to be on the outs with each other. Besides, I need my two best reporters to be on friendly terms.” He let them go and put his hands on his hips. “Now are you two gonna make up or to I have to get tough with you?”
Clark almost smiled. “You’re going to get tough with us?”
Perry leaned close to Clark and glowered. “You haven’t heard a tenth of the Elvis stories I know, son. In fact, I’ve barely scratched the surface. How would you like to listen to them half the morning and most of the afternoon? Until the first of the year?”
Lois reached out and took Clark’s hand to shake it. “Face it, Farm Boy, we’re licked. I’ll play nice if you will.”
Clark looked at his partner and saw a smile trying to sneak out from behind her lips. “Okay, City Girl, I’ll shake.”
Perry patted both of them on the shoulder. “That’s more like it. Now you two get back out there and get us some hard-hitting, high-quality stories.”
Clark stepped back and opened the door, then let Lois exit first. As soon as the door was shut, he said, “Lois? Wait, please. I’m sorry about getting the file the way I did. I should have checked with you first.”
She turned to face him. “Yes. You should have. But that’s in the past now. And I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I was upset with myself and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have. I know you were only doing your job and going where the investigation was leading you.”
He smiled easily. “Now that we’re both sorry for what we’ve done, why don’t we do what we’re told and go get some front-page stories?”
She tried to smile back. “Sounds like a plan to me. You have anything good?”
“Tell you what. Let’s go have lunch together and compare notes. Between the two of us, we’re sure to have something hot.”
>>>Tuesday, 11:24 AM
They’d compared story notes – which hadn’t taken long, since neither of them had much new information – and caught up on some family gossip, none of which was particularly earth-shattering, even in Lois’s family. They’d spoken of the weather, of how well the hostage situation had ended the day before, and once again exchanged condolences on their respective romantic complications. Then the conversation dwindled into an uncomfortable silence, and Clark was grateful when Lois spoke again.
“Your sandwich okay, Clark?”
“Sure. Yours?”
“Delicious, as usual.”
He nodded. “Good.” Then he put his food down and shifted nervously. “Look, I wanted to tell you again that I’m really sorry about you and Lex. I had no idea you two were having problems.”
She sighed and picked up a pickle spear, but instead of eating it she simply stared at it. “I didn’t know it myself. But that little disappearing act I pulled on Saturday combined with the fight we had on the plane coming back pretty much sealed that deal. I think he was actually glad to get rid of me.”
“Then he’s not as smart as you think he is.”
She lifted her eyes to his in surprise, then smiled at him. “Thank you, Clark. You know just the thing to say to lift my spirits, don’t you?”
Clark thought about the next sentence he was about to say. The words “It’s only because I love you” got to his teeth and would have tumbled out if he hadn’t clamped down on his tongue hard enough to crush diamonds. That wasn’t what Lois needed to hear, especially not from him. And not when she’d just had her heart so badly damaged, if not completely broken.
And it wasn’t what he needed to say to her, especially not now, and for all the same reasons. A double-rebound romance was a terrible idea – a triple, if he counted Lana, which on second thought he realized that he had to – and involving the two of them in a romantic relationship was surely bound to bring disaster to both of them.
So he took a deep breath and let it out, then said, “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”
He looked into her eyes, and for a moment he thought he saw something like disappointment there. But then she smiled and patted his hand. “Yes. That is what friends are for. And I’m glad you’re my friend, Clark.”
His smile grew as her pickle spear disappeared into her mouth.
>>>Tuesday, 4:06 PM
“Hi, Dr. Friskin. I’m sorry I’m late. Clark and I were working on a story and the time just got away from me.”
“Lois! Come on in. I’m glad to see you. You missed last week’s session.”
“Yeah, I know. Things were going so well for me last week, I didn’t think I needed to come in.”
“And now?”
“Now? I think my life may have come apart at the seams.”
“That sounds awful. Want to tell me about it?”
“Yeah, sure, why not? I broke up with my boyfriend over the weekend for something he wasn’t responsible for. It was my fault and I feel terrible about it.”
“I’m sorry. Is this something you can fix?”
“I don’t think so. At least, not right now. I’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.”
“I see. Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“Well – no, it isn’t. I’m still working on that gun-smuggling story, the one that almost got me killed, but I’ve run into a series of dead ends and I can’t seem to connect enough of the dots to make a pattern. On top of that, I’m afraid that I’m losing interest in finding out who was responsible for all that happened.”
“Hmm. Tell me, Lois, what would happen to you if you never found out who this person is?”
“To me? Not much, I guess. But that would mean that a particularly nasty criminal would escape justice. And it also means that he’d go on killing and smuggling and stealing and making life hard for other law-abiding citizens.”
“So you feel that it’s you job to stop this person?”
“Yes. In more ways than just one.”
“Oh? How many ways?”
“I’m an investigative reporter, Doctor. I investigate and bring the truth out into the open. I’m also a citizen of Metropolis who cares very much about the rule of law and making sure that the guilty are punished and the innocent are protected.”
“In that order?”
“Huh? Oh, you mean I’d rather catch the guilty than protect the innocent. Well, I happen to think that the two things are pretty much the same thing. I catch the guilty and they don’t go around hurting the innocent any more, at least for a while.”
“You know, Lois, I have some colleagues who would diagnose your condition as ‘Superman syndrome.’ You have an over-developed sense of justice, and you take it very personally when laws are broken and people get hurt.”
“That’s right, I do take it personally! And why shouldn’t I be obsessed about justice?”
“Easy, now! I don’t mean that you are obsessed or over the edge in any way. People who are over that metaphorical edge don’t constantly question their motives and their actions the way you do, nor do they admit that it’s their fault when something goes wrong in their lives. You’re just going through a bad time. It happens to everyone.”
“Huh. Okay, so I’m not unique. Does that mean that I shouldn’t feel bad about what happened?”
“Of course not. Your feelings are perfectly valid, Lois, and they’re completely legitimate, but you have to remember that they aren’t permanent. They’re a result of what has happened in your life, not a guide to your future actions. If I did everything I felt like doing, when I felt like doing it, and never did anything unless I felt like doing it, I wouldn’t accomplish very much.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. That makes sense. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want to talk about this some more?”
“Well – “
“That was a particularly deep sigh.”
“Was it? What do you think it means?”
“It might not mean anything, Lois. Sometimes a sigh is just a sigh.”
“Like Freud’s statement that ‘sometimes a cigar is just a cigar’?”
“Exactly.”
“If you say so. Hey, that reminds me of a doctor joke I heard the other day and I think you’d like it.”
“Go ahead.”
“If Sigmund Freud were alive today and wrote a book and went on the TV talk show circuit to promote his work, would that be a Freudian schlep?”
“What? A Freudian – oh, Lois, you are too cruel! That was a terrible pun!”
“Really? Then why are you writing it down?”
“I’m not. I’m making a note to myself to see my own therapist. You’ve deeply traumatized me and I require professional help to recover my mental balance.”
