Hi there all! I hope you'll enjoy this. But be sure to let me know, either way. I want to learn, and your feedback is appreciated.
And many thanks, Labrat, for your always illuminating point of view <g>.
***********
Through the Window
By CC Aiken
“So, I guess this is good night.”
“Yes, if you want it to be. But the night doesn’t have to be over, if you don’t want it to be, Lois.”
“And if I don’t you’ll…hold the sun off, stop it from rising?”
“Not unless that would get me invited in?”
“Oh, you want to come in?”
“Yes, please.”
“You haven’t had enough of my company? The longest dinner on record, to my knowledge, dancing all hours, the slow walk home, and still, you’re not…tired?”
“Not tired, no, Lois. Sort of the opposite.”
“Awake, then.”
“Well, yes, if you wanted a literal opposite.”
“What else is there?”
“Oh, I don’t know: alive, energized, infused…drunk.”
“You’re mixing your metaphors in there, mister. How much wine did you have with dinner?”
“It wasn’t the wine, Lois. It’s never the wine.”
“It’s…?”
“You.”
“Well…wow. I didn’t expect you to just come right out and…well, wow.”
“Does that get me invited in, by any chance?”
“That might get you a whole lot more than you bargained for, Clark.”
“I don’t know, Lois. You see in the initial bargaining process, I bargained for a whole lot.”
“Is that so?”
“Is this still your door?”
“It is.”
“And those things in your hand, still your keys?”
“Yes.”
“So, you could use them on your door, do that ‘open up’ thing and we could…”
“…continue this inside?”
“You’re asking me in? What a surprise, Ms. Lane.”
“Only because tonight has been so…amazing.”
“Amazing? I like the sound of that.”
“And since you’re not tired….”
“The very opposite of tired….”
“Right, and since you’re the very opposite of…
<Help! Help! Superman! My wife! My kids! Oh Please God! Somebody Help! Please!!>
“…tired, then maybe I should…”
“Um…Lois?
“… do that thing with my keys that you suggested.”
“Lois? Lois. Look, um…”
“Hm?”
“Um, I…um…”
“Clark, you’ve said ‘um’ more than once already. What is it? You’re looking…”
“Sick, Lois. I feel absolutely sick. I…I…just remembered. I have…a thing…um…an important something…I forgot…I…it kills me to say this…”
“You’re not coming in.”
“Lois, I swear I really do feel sick about this…”
“Don’t swear to anything right now, Clark. You wouldn’t find a judge who’d believe you.”
“Lois…I”
“Go.”
“I’m so sorr-“
“Go!”
“Goodnight, Lois.”
“Goodnight you lying, two-faced, cowardly, son of a….”
Keys in her door, for real now, Lois unlocked each lock and with every turn invoked further curses on the head of her boyfri- no forget that, her friend…ha! Not even that, no. That man! That man she happened to work with, and that was all. That man whose name she couldn’t even remember now.
Wrenching the door open at last, she hit the lights, blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, and ran straight into the tall, smiling stranger standing in her living room.
“Well, finally, darlin’, was it just me, or did you think he’d never leave?”
“Look, whoever you are, kidnapper, murderer, thief, you have picked the wrong woman and the wrong night, in that order. So, I’ll do you the favor of standing aside and letting you leave, how’s that?”
“Lois, you wound me. No hello?”
Lois put her coat and purse down slowly, keeping herself between the man and the door, she threaded her keys between each finger, clutching them in her fist like a pair of brass knuckles.
“I’ll tell you again, wrong woman, wrong night.”
He pulled a small remote control device from his pocket, and from behind him a shimmery sort of window appeared, casting an iridescent glow over the room.
“Want to talk now?” he drawled, looking quite pleased with Lois’ sudden, rapt attention
“How…how do you know my name?
“Oh, come now, Lois, you and I go way back. Don’t tell me you don’t remember? I thought I was special to you.”
“You’re a mad scientist, aren’t you? I get so sick of you guys, busting in here night and day, shining lights or…or…windows, and things. And I guess you want me to write about your earth-shattering invention, or hide you from your crime lord benefactor.”
Lois had moved tentatively closer to the odd special effects display in her living room, though deliberately staying at a comfortable distance from the man.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, don’t you?” He smiled a tad smugly at her. “I have to admit, you’re good, and you caught me out the last time, but I have studied Lois Lane a bit more extensively since then, so you can drop the act, darlin’.”
“The act?” Lois asked in all innocence, all the while relaxing into her stance, doing a slight bounce up and down on her heels, wondering if she had time to take off her shoes. It would be much easier in a lower heel, a boot, or just barefoot, if needed.
“The ‘talking killer’ act,’ Lois.” The man bracketed his words with those finger quotations that always so irritated her. Another reason to just go ahead and kick him into next week. “You know, I talk and talk, tell you my plan, and while you appear to be listening like a good student, you’re searching for the equivalent of a 2x4, or getting ready to kick me into next week.”
He now had Lois’ full attention. She stopped her deep, restful breathing. Stopped visualizing that he was the ball coming into the strike zone to her bat. “We have met before, haven’t we?”
“Duh! What have I been trying to tell you? Lois, your reputation does not disappoint. Despite the beauty and the bravery, you are still galactically stu…”
“SUPERMAN!”
“Oh, now that was entirely too predictable. And that hurts, Lois. You think I haven’t taken Big Blue into account here. Trust me, he’s busy. I’ve gone to great pains to insure that. Timing is everything, you’ll learn that, darlin’.”
Lois had heard enough. She lunged, spinning on her heel, catching him full across the middle with a devastating kick. He was ready. He didn’t try to stop their momentum. Instead he held on to her, letting her spin throw them towards the window and through, all in one easy motion.
**********
Clark’s head snapped up. “Lois…”
“Superman? Did you say something?” asked the injured woman in his arms.
“No, ma’am. Don’t worry. We’ll be at the hospital in no time. And your kids are there and fine, just a little shaken up.”
“The fire…I never saw anything like that. Like it was everywhere at once, you know…”
Her reply was cut short by a vicious bout of coughing.
“Don’t try to talk, ma’am. Your lungs are full of smoke. They’ll fix that for you.”
“Just…thank you, Su..Superman. Th…thanks.”
“Just doing my job,” he smiled kindly at her, covering the inexplicable gnawing fear that had entered his gut just moments before. That had been Lois. She was unmistakable to him. He had left her only a few minutes ago, but then a few minutes were all it took with Lois.
He sped up considerably, still trying to keep his passenger’s comfort in mind. Once she was safely delivered into the right hands, he took to the skies, not stopping for the press who had gathered, or for the thanks of a relieved and grateful husband.
In seconds he was standing in Lois’ very empty living room. She was gone. Her keys were in the middle of the floor. Her coat and purse beside the still-open front door. It had only been minutes, but in that time, something…something terrible had happened.
No. No. It had only been, he glanced at Lois’ clock, four minutes. That wasn’t time enough for anything…anything. So, relax. Look around. Focus.
He forced himself to stand still. To systematically x-ray every square inch of the room, the bedroom, the bathroom, the hallway. Nothing. He shot out the window, nice and easy, not too fast, and hovered over the building, stared intently at every floor, into every neighbor’s apartment, not registering what anyone was doing, just searching for one particular face. The stairwell, the elevator, the lobby…
He went higher still. No need to panic, because it hadn’t even been ten minutes since she called. If she was drugged, unconscious, stuffed inside a barrel, he’d find her in time. The street surrounding her apartment. Her Jeep. The neighboring buildings. Nothing.
He went higher still, moving a bit to the south, towards the docks, towards Suicide Slum, where most of the bad things seemed to happen. They would have her in a car or a van, possibly heavily lined with lead, a nifty trick that was going around in criminal circles. They might be speeding, if they weren’t smart. The streets, the highways, the back alleys…
It had just been fifteen minutes. Nothing irreversible has occurred. Nothing that couldn't be stopped or fixed or caught.. Just something…unexpected. Underground? Metropolis was riddled with tunnels and pipes that weaved like a tangled maze beneath its streets. He should go down, get close, listen for her heartbeat. Or a helicopter? A quick ride to the airstrip to a private plane headed for…. No, he would have heard a helicopter. He was alone in the skies tonight. Alone. God. She’s gone. She is gone. Lois is gone.
***********
The world lurched and swayed alarmingly. Held tightly in the stranger’s grasp, Lois didn’t even try to escape, didn’t try to follow what was happening. She just closed her eyes and willed it to be over, afraid that if she opened her mouth to scream the entirety of her expensive dinner would end up on her shoes. With a jolt, everything slammed to a stop.
“It’s never easy the first time, darlin’.” The man released her in an oddly gentle way. Lois’ legs immediately gave out. She found herself sitting on cold, hard, blessedly firm pavement. “Now, when you think about this later, and you will, your inquisitive mind will want to know ‘why.’”
Despite her efforts not to, Lois rolled to her knees and lost the dinner she’d so enjoyed just hours before.
“Oh, charming… Look, Lois, I’ll just wrap this up quickly then. Listening? I had an epiphany. You see, I was always a planner. You know, lots of details, everything so meticulously calculated down to the bottom line. And where did that get me? Ha! Don’t ask. Every evil scheme thwarted. The notoriety and high life that I so craved, denied me. So I asked myself, ‘Tempus’ I said…”
“Tempus,” Lois repeated dully. Latching on to the important piece of information she knew she needed, so that when she recovered from whatever he’d done to her, she could hunt him down…kill all his housepets.
“Yes, didn’t I say that? Now, follow me here, Lois. I was a planner, right? Too often foiled, and by minds much duller than mine. Really, really aggravating. So, I had this thought, what if I just did something? Something spontaneous and random? Something, well, just for fun. And while I might not be around to enjoy the show, I could amuse myself contemplating all the possible scenarios. And that, darlin’, brings us…here.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing all of their dimly lit surroundings.
“To Centennial Park? An epiphany, a random, spontaneous act, some sort of magic carpet ride …or something, and this is what all this leads to? The park? Seems a bit…much.” Lois struggled to stand, batting away his outstretched hand.
“”A bit much, you say?” Tempus laughed delightedly. “Oh, Lois, you kill me. And by the way, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Have a nice life, Lois Lane.”
The window once more appeared behind him. Lois recoiled. Tempus stepped through, “Remember this moment, Lois. I know I will.” The window disappeared and he was gone.
*********
“Superman, I understand that we are talking about Lois Lane, here. And I am not questioning your judgment, but she’s only been…”
“…missing,” Clark supplied quickly.
“Not in her usual place,” Henderson gently corrected him, “for how long? An hour, you say?”
“Yes, but she called. Called for my help while I was dealing with tonight’s apartment fire. And she wasn’t where she was…where she called me from…she wasn’t home. She wasn’t anywhere.”
“That doesn’t necessary mean she’s missing. Where that’s partner of hers? Find Clark Kent. I bet you next week’s paycheck the two of them are hunkered down in some stake-out.”
“Clark does NOT know where she is.”
“Ok.” Henderson cleared his throat, glancing over at his now silent, frozen co-workers. “Come inside, Superman. Just…let me get the details.”
Henderson placed a friendly arm around Clark’s shoulders, drawing him away from prying eyes and interested ears.
Once his office door was closed, he turned, speaking firmly. “Get a hold of yourself, Superman. Now it doesn’t bother me, but do you have any idea how…scary an out of control superhero looks to the average person?”
“I am not out of control, Inspector, but I need you to take me seriously…”
“You need my help, you’ve got it. You think she’s gone.”
“She is gone. She has…evaporated. Working from her apartment, I have systematically looked in every possible direction for twenty miles. It’s taking too long…”
“So, whatever or whoever took her, got her quick.”
“Got her so quick that not five minutes after she yelled, there was no trace of her. Her door was open, her things left on the floor. No signs of struggle, a fight, a break-in...”
“Fingerprints?”
“None.”
“Below the streets then? A hideout?”
“That’s why I need you.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“Eyes. Ears. Bodies to search. I can’t get through most of those tunnels much faster than the average man. They’re labyrinth and lead-lined and…”
“The perfect hiding place for kryptonite?”
“That may be why I haven’t heard from her since. If they had some, and she saw it, she would sooner…well, she wouldn’t call.”
“Consider it done.” Henderson clapped a hand on Clark’s arm. “But don’t rule out what her partner might know. In fact, if you could find him, I’d appreciate a word with Kent in the next hour, or so.”
“He’ll be here,” Superman promised. “And, sir, thank you. I know how it sounds, me coming in here, getting you out of bed…crazy.”
“If it’s you, it isn’t crazy,” Henderson spoke quietly. “You’re one of us, Superman. And while I can’t say I understand it completely, I know that Lois Lane is…”
“A friend,” Clark choked.
“Exactly. And she’s done us more than a few favors. Don’t ever tell her I said that. Now, go and get Clark for me. And don’t…well, try not to worry. We’re on it.”
Before twenty four hours had passed, the search for Lois Lane had made international news. Within days, the programming on LNN was devoted to exploring who the culprit might be, running show after show on her famous enemies. A list that was impressively long. Even if it wasn’t helpful, it certainly was entertaining to those who lived outside of Metropolis and might have been only vaguely aware of the Lane and Kent track record. The papers were filled with speculation over how, after all this time, someone had finally swiped the intrepid reporter from under Superman’s nose.
After a few weeks, Lois Lane began to be referred to in the past tense by both on-air personalities and hard bitten columnists, who sincerely regretted the apparent loss of one of theirs. By the third month there was talk of some sort of memorial. A way for the citizens of Metropolis, who had so benefited from Lois Lane’s passionate embrace of their city and its welfare, to publicly thank her. By the time the seasons changed she was practically forgotten. Life went on. It was a shame. She was young and had so much going for her. But it wasn’t like she’d wasted her time here. She could serve as an inspiration, to make everyday count, to live to the fullest, to confront injustice.
By the time the snow had melted, the people of Metropolis were starting to wonder, though, if Superman was ever coming back.
**********
The after effects of time-space travel hadn’t been pleasant. That much Lois was able to remember. The nausea, headaches and wooziness had stayed with her for some time; making concentration difficult, if not impossible.
She’d been admitted to Metropolis General at some point in the first twenty-four hours after her…arrival. She didn’t really remember it clearly. It all sort of coalesced in a fog of concerned voices; some of them raised, some of them alarmed, some soothing and kind. Followed by clean-smelling sheets and, finally, blissful unawareness.
When she’d awakened in the hospital and demanded to know the time, the day, and where her friends and family were, no one knew who she was. After she’d declared her identity repeatedly, a nice, calming psychiatrist had sat beside her, explaining that there was no Lois Lane. She had come with nothing to identify herself. Was she certain she was who she said she was? Was she prone to amnesia? Delusions? Hysteria? When the nice and calm approach hadn’t done the trick, she had asked them to call Superman. He would vouch for her. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask for Clark, but one crystal clear memory she still retained was her anger at him, his desertion of her time and time again. Superman was far more reliable. And she wasn’t ready to give Clark Kent the satisfaction of calling for his help. Not yet.
It was the Superman request that got her transferred to the “quiet corner” of the facility. Where most patients either sat in a drug-induced stupor, or railed at the four walls of their well-padded rooms. Lois had asked for a newspaper. She was an esteemed member of the Daily Planet staff, her disappearance would have made the front page, or, well, page three above the fold. She couldn’t understand why no one had come looking for her. Not Perry, not Jimmy, not…that man that she just happened to work with. When someone goes missing, you start with the hospitals before working down the line of optimism to the morgue, the dumpsters, and the bay behind Suicide Slum where things seemed to wash up.
When she’d seen the paper, she’d known. Though still awash in a haze of general confusion and unwellness, she’d realized she wasn’t home anymore. Despite the rather striking similarities, this paper wasn’t put out by the Daily Planet, not by her Daily Planet. And it didn’t reflect her world, but rather a sort of odd distortion of it. Close enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be…real. How far did this reach? Had Tempus gone so far as to drug her, bring a whole staff in on his plan to make her think she was crazy, print a mock copy of her newspaper, just for… what? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. She was Lois Lane, and no one had heard of her. No one had searched for her. All the names and phone numbers she had given out had been regretfully returned to her. There was no Ellen Lane at that number. There was no Lucy Lane in California. There was no Dr. Sam Lane at that office. There was no Jimmy Olsen, all around gofer, at the Planet. There was no Perry White in the editor’s office. And again she was asked, was she sure? Was she prone to amnesia? Delusions? Basically, was she crazy?
Now she was afraid to ask for Clark. That was what it boiled down to. Because if they came back, sighed sadly, announced that there was no… She’d go crazy for real. She would lose whatever hold on herself she was tenuously keeping. So, she would get out. Investigate. Trace her steps back to Centennial Park. Then her apartment, which they’d assured her was leased to someone else. She would get some fresh air and see how the world looked outside these walls. All she needed was a change of clothes. Some sensible shoes. A couple of bucks. A plan. A cover story for all her ranting and raving. That would be easy, after all she was Lois Lane…she thought.
-tbc
