I've realised that there probably won't be twelve posts this time around as I'm making the posts longer. I've been accused in the past of making them too short.
Enjoy.
Alex
From Part 1:
Lois looked hurt. “I understand, Clark,” she said huffily. “I was just surprised that's all.” She returned to Clark's previous comment. “What do you mean, Perry wants me to leave my pager behind? How can he get hold of me if I do that?”
“They're called telephones, Lois,” Clark said with exaggerated patience. “Besides, he doesn't want to be able to get hold of you, he wants you to take a break. As in don't work. You can take time off can't you, Lois?”
Lois glared at him. “Of course I can,” she snapped. “I bet I enjoy my time off more than you enjoy yours.”
Clark laughed. “This isn't a contest, Lois.” He smiled at her. “I'm going to head off now, it's 5:30 and the night staff will be here in half an hour. I doubt anything will blow up in that time. See you Monday, Lois.”
“Monday,” Lois repeated. She watched her partner clear his desk, ostentatiously tossing his pager into the drawer when he saw her watching. She glared at him. Clark stuck his head into Perry's office and had a brief conversation with him before heading for the stairs. Then he was gone.
Part 2:
Clark tossed another log on the fire and settled back on the couch with a mug of tea. A woman he'd interviewed during the week had sworn by earl grey so Clark was giving it a go. He had to admit it was surprisingly relaxing. He didn't really need the fire but there was something soothing about a log fire and Clark figured he could use all the soothing he could get. What a week! If it hadn't been one thing it'd been another. Superman Clark Superman Clark; he figured both of them had earned the weekend off. He remembered with amusement the song that'd been playing on the radio while he'd been tossing clothes into a bag. It seemed to sum up his attitude to the coming weekend.
* * * * * * *
Clark took the stairs of his apartment in one stride. He unlocked his front door and almost danced down the steps. Two days! Two whole days! He tossed his briefcase onto the dining room table and flicked on the radio that sat on the kitchen bench. The end of a Lonestar song filled the air and Clark realised he'd caught the end of the country hour. He shrugged and strode into his bedroom. Country, rock – it didn't matter. As long as they played upbeat music he wouldn't object. As he was debating the merits of polo versus sleeveless the song ended and the announcer came on.
“That was Lonestar with their song "Paradise Knife and Gun Club'. Next up we have a newcomer to country music from the land down under. Here's Keith Urban with "Where The Blacktop Ends'.” The opening bars of the song filled the air and Clark was caught by the upbeat rhythm. It perfectly fit his mood. He listened to the lyrics.
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Going back to well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
I'm lookin' down the barrel of Friday night
Ridin' on a river of freeway lights
Goodbye city I'm country bound
"Til Monday rolls around
Clark started to hum as the chorus played for a second time. He wasn't exactly going to visit old friends but boy was he country bound. The city could just survive without him for a weekend. Deciding to take both shirts he threw them into the bag followed by a pair of jeans. As he yanked open a dresser drawer for underwear the second verse started to play.
Workin' in the grind is an uphill road
Punchin' that clock and carryin' that load
I bust it all week and then I'm free
The weekend belongs to me
“Amen,” Clark muttered as he dug around for another pair of briefs. He could have sworn he'd done laundry during the week. However all he could find was a pair a friend had given him as a gag gift one Valentine's Day. Clark eyed the briefs covered in tiny cupids with disfavour before shrugging and throwing them into his bag.
Give me some fresh air give me that farm
Give me some time with you in my arms
Far away from the hustle and the pressure and the noise
Clark paused. Should he go back to Smallville and take Lois with him? They both had the weekend off after all. Then Clark shook his head. He wanted down time and as much as he loved Lois she only had one speed, fast forward. This weekend he wanted his speed to be something akin to the speed you got when you moved a video forward by repeatedly hitting the pause button. So he wasn't going to the farm and there wasn't going to be anyone in his arms that weekend. There was always next time. Moseying into the bathroom Clark sang along to the final chorus.
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Going back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul, you betcha
Where the blacktop ends
Where the blacktop ends
Dumping a toothbrush and paste into his bag Clark dropped Henderson's cell phone on top and zipped the bag closed. He locked the front door, flicked off the radio and turned off the lights. With a last visual check he stepped onto his balcony and took off for the cabin. Goodbye city Clark Kent was country bound!
Clark drained the last dregs of tea from the mug and walked into the kitchen to brew another cup. That was another advantage of Kryptonian heritage he'd found. Caffeine had no effect on his system so he could drink as much tea and coffee as he wanted without keeping himself awake all night. Flicking the switch on the kettle he moved over to the window and stared out over the treetops. The cabin was set on a slight incline, raising it far enough above the surrounding landscape to provide a beautiful vista. A full moon rode in the sky and wisps of clouds drifted, blown by the faint breeze that stirred the leaves. Despite the fact that it was late spring and the days were quite warm the nights retained enough bite to have most people reaching for a sweater. However Clark thought with a grin, he wasn't most people. Leaning over he twisted the latch on the window and pushed it open. He could of course just walk out the back door onto the deck but where was the fun in that? Pushing the window wide he wriggled his broad shoulders through and drifted out into the night.
Floating upwards Clark came to rest on the roof of the cabin with the panorama of the mountains spread out before him. He cocked his head listening. The faint chirp of crickets the hoot of an owl and the squeaking of a small creature in the underbrush. No sirens, no hawkers and no stereos. Clark drew in a deep breath tasting the chill of the night and freshness of the air. It was a nice change from smog and dirty heat. He sighed. This was why he'd escaped the city for the weekend. A chance to actually breathe in without feeling smothered and an opportunity to look up and see stars instead of streetlights. Hearing the click as the kettle reached boiling point and shut off Clark drew in one last breath and floated back down to the kitchen. He thought he might take this next cup of tea to his room and drink it in bed while he got stuck into the murder mystery he'd bought Friday morning.
Bill Henderson leaned back against a desk and watched as sergeants from all over Metropolis filed into the room. He'd called this meeting late on Friday night just before the start of the graveyard shift to let the cops of Metropolis know that they were on their own for two days. He'd called the head of the Metropolis FD earlier and knew the man was having the same conversation with his own staff. Seeing Keating, a hard-bitten sergeant who worked down in Hobbs Bay file in Henderson got to his feet and nodded to Brian Fitzgerald who shut the door. Henderson waited for the rustling to subside before starting to speak.
“As some of you may already know Superman came to see me this afternoon,” he began. “He pointed out that this week has been unusually intense and we've all been pushed to the limit. It seems Superman has finally reached his. He wants some time off and I think we owe it to him. The rest of us work shifts, he's been on call twenty-four hours a day seven days a week and it's starting to show. He looked like hell when I saw him today.” Henderson waited for the murmurs to fade before continuing. “Here's how it's going to work. For the next two days you cannot rely on Superman to fly in and haul your ass out of trouble so you're all going to have to be extra vigilant. Consider it a refresher course in police procedure. Having Superman around is a luxury many cities don't have and for this weekend we don't have it either. However he hasn't totally left us alone the poor guy's sense of responsibility won't let him do that. I've got a means of communicating with him if a situation is genuinely beyond normal police means. If something comes up you handle it. If you can't you contact me and if,” Henderson laid no particular emphasis on the last word, “if I think the situation warrants it I will contact Superman. Any questions?”
A sergeant from one of the more affluent parts of town spoke up. “What do you mean by beyond us Inspector?”
“Well Flaherty to quote Superman, "a gang war or a hurricane or a situation in which lives will be lost.' I don't think you need to worry about the first two do you, Flaherty?” Henderson responded sarcastically. Flaherty subsided with flushed cheeks. Henderson looked around and not seeing any further questions closed the meeting. “That's all people. Advise any cop working the streets, keep your heads and don't get dead.”
Clark stretched and rolled over to face the clock on the nightstand. 9:30. He blinked and looked again, yep 9:30. He flopped onto his back and stared out the window at the mountains that tumbled over each other, as they grew larger, climbing towards the sky. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in until half past nine. He had to admit, he felt fantastic. For the first time in months he'd slept straight through the night. Not once had he been obliged to haul himself out of bed to catch a criminal or help out at a rescue. He wondered briefly if someone had been injured or killed because he wasn't there. Before the thought could take hold he seemed to hear Lois' voice in his head.
“What he can't do…it doesn't matter. It's the idea of Superman. Someone to believe in. Someone to build a few hopes around. Whatever he can do: it's enough.”
“Thanks, Lois,” Clark murmured. He sternly told himself that if something big had blown up Henderson would have called him. Conscience temporarily appeased Clark returned his gaze to the scene out the window.
It was a beautiful day and he had nothing planned. Nowhere he had to be, no one he had to see. It felt strange. Deciding he'd slept enough Clark rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom to splash some water of his face. Running his tongue around his teeth he decided that brushing them might be a good idea. His mouth tasted like something had died in it.
“No more pizza at midnight,” he told himself. It had always seemed terribly unfair to Clark that while he never succumbed to most human complaints like colds, flu or acne he was occasionally susceptible to morning breath. As he brushed his teeth Clark started to hum the song that'd been playing on the radio when he packed the night before.
“Gonna kick off my shoes and run in bare feet, where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet.” Still singing Clark waltzed back to his bedroom and dragged a t-shirt over his head before making his way to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes and toast sounded pretty good to a man who didn't have to worry about cholesterol.
While Clark was singing country songs and cooking himself a fried breakfast Lois was sitting on her couch munching unenthusiastically on a muffin while a cup of coffee cooled at her elbow. She couldn't believe Perry had actually forced her to take the weekend off. She'd planned on sneaking out with her pager but Perry knew his star reporter better than she liked to admit. He'd casually told Lois he was going down to layout to sort out some last minute snarl and then parked himself in the lobby with Jimmy posted in the newsroom to see if Lois actually turned in her pager on her own. Upon receiving the call from Jimmy that Lois had done no such thing Perry had met her as she got off the elevator with an outstretched hand. Lois had glumly handed over her pager.
She knew that most people wouldn't regard two days off as punishment but then Lois thought, biting savagely into the muffin, she wasn't most people. In the year that she'd known Clark she'd gotten better at relaxing and was starting to concede that the world wouldn't come to a grinding halt if she stopped working but she still wasn't very good at just stopping. Lois took a mouthful of coffee, nearly spitting it out when she realised she'd been sulking too long and it'd gone cold. Marching into the kitchen Lois set the coffee machine going and then slumped against the counter. What was she supposed to do this weekend? Ok, so she was better at relaxing but only when Clark made her.
And there it was. She, Lois Lane, was no good at relaxing without Clark Kent and he was out of town for the weekend with no way of being contacted. To add insult to injury Superman was also incommunicado for the weekend. When Clark had told her that Superman was going to be out of town for two days Lois had half wondered if she'd totally misread all the signals Clark and Superman had ever sent her way. Maybe they were going off to have some sort of fling. It would fit in with her track record. Then commonsense had reasserted itself and she'd remembered Clark's response to her dance of the seven veils, Superman's kiss at the airport after they'd apprehended Miranda and dancing with both men the night Clark had won his Kerth. There was no way gay men would act like that. What would be the point? Besides, hadn't Clark said that Superman was still going to respond to major emergencies? Maybe Superman was staying at Clark's apartment while Clark was out of town and had told people he was going to be out of town simply to get some peace. Then Lois shook her head. She knew Superman, he wasn't the type to sit by simply because he was on vacation. So he must really be out of town. She wondered where he'd gone. Then she wondered what on earth she was going to do with herself for two days.
Bill Henderson yawned and ran a hand through his hair. Pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate he kept one ear tuned to the police scanner he'd insisted on setting up in the kitchen. His wife hadn't blinked. After nearly twenty years as a cop's wife Marian Henderson wasn't fazed by much. When he'd come home and told her about Superman taking the weekend off she'd agreed that yes, he should keep an ear out for trouble and of course having a scanner in the house was logical. Henderson had eyed his wife suspiciously. Henderson was known for having the best poker face in the precinct but his wife had him beaten hands down.
“Do you mind?” he'd asked. “Having the scanner in the house for the weekend?”
Marian had shaken her head. “Bill a scanner I can live with. What would drive me crazy is you pacing, muttering to yourself and staring at the phone every five minutes wondering if you should just check in at headquarters.” Henderson looked sheepish.
“Am I really that bad?”
“Yes,” his wife told him with a small smile. “But that's what makes you such a good cop, your sense of responsibility. I agree with you, Superman does deserve a weekend off but Bill?” She waited until he met her eyes. “So do you. I'll make a deal with you. You can bring in scanners and police radios and sergeants who've been cops so long they always use cop-speak instead of English and I won't say a word as long as you take a weekend off in the very near future. Deal?”
Henderson had taken his wife into his arms and kissed her. “You are amazing do you know that?”
Marian had smiled and looped her arms around her husband's neck. “I know.” She'd leaned in and kissed him before stepping back and pointing to the door. “Now go and get your scanner so you can defend truth, justice and the American way.” Henderson had had to give her credit for being able to say it with only a minor twitch of the lips.
A burst of static from the scanner pulled Henderson out of his abstraction and had him leaping to his feet and racing across the kitchen. He pulled the scanner to the edge of the kitchen counter and twisted the tuner in an attempt to clean up the static.
“Vic ok, leaving her with Daniher. Pursuing suspect on foot through Centennial.” Henderson hunched over the scanner and tried to figure out what was going on.
“Got a visual, suspect leaving park by the eastern boundary. Heading south on Beaumont.”
“All units in the area of Centennial Park please respond. Officers on foot pursuing attempted rapist.”
“Bill?” Marian got up from the table. “Is something wrong?” Henderson shushed her with a frantic hand.
“Gaining ground, got a visual on the suspect.” A sudden burst of static blocked the next few seconds of dialogue. Henderson was about to twist the tuner again when the static faded and voices were audible.
“Got him, got him. Jenneret's apprehended the suspect, reading him the Miranda now.”
Henderson slumped against the kitchen counter. He couldn't believe how tense he was. One chase and he was on edge. He'd be popping Zantac like candy by the end of the weekend at this rate.
“Roll on Sunday night,” he muttered, heading back to his cold breakfast.
tbc...
