His mom hugged him. "Are you going to change your clothes and come and have breakfast with us?" she asked. "Or are you going back to that girl of yours in Australia?"

"It's late there now," Clark said. "And Lois isn't my girl. Not yet."

The gleam in his mother's eyes deepened. "As soon as you've told her that you can fly her around the world in a matter of minutes, I want you to bring her home to meet us," she said.

Clark smiled, imagining landing at the farm with Lois in his arms ... Imagining his parents hurrying forward, eager to meet her. He stepped away from his parents and spun into jeans and a shirt. Then he put an arm across each of their shoulders and together, they walked back to the farm house. "I will," Clark promised. "As soon as I can, I'll bring Lois to meet you."


Part 16

Much of Clark's good humour seeped away as he crossed the Pacific Ocean. When he opened the door to his unit in Melbourne, the image foremost in his mind was neither the rescue in Metropolis, nor the time spent with his parents, but Lois's hurt surprise as he had prematurely ended their evening.

Sure, he had been Superman in a new and very satisfying way. A way where he didn't cower and hide - a way where he'd paid more attention to his self-belief than to the beliefs others held about him.

And, as Lois had said, it had seemed to work.

He had confronted Mayson - he had allowed her to question him and had simply answered her truthfully. There had been nothing to indicate that she had recognised anything about him - not his mannerisms, not his voice, not even his face.

Then Dan Scardino had arrived, and it had seemed as if his hand on her shoulder had had an effect on Mayson. Which was astounding. Clark had never seen anyone distract Mayson - not when she was on the trail of a story. Particularly not a story with the potential to be the biggest of her career.

What if there was something between Mayson and Dan? How would that affect Lois? Would she care? Would it bring back all the hurt from Dan's rejection? Or would it help her move on from that ... and perhaps make her willing to consider a date with someone else?

Which brought him to how things stood with Lois ...

How would she respond to his sudden departure? Surely she would have questions. And for the first time ever, Clark wanted to give answers. He had spent his entire life evading questions but now he sought them ... from Lois.

But if she didn't ask, when was the right time to tell her?

Before he asked her for a date?

On their first date?

After their first date?

Would there *be* a first date?

He didn't know.

It would be easier if she came right out and demanded to know why he had chosen to rudely evict her from his unit. Then he would have the opening. He would simply reply that he'd gone to deal with the bomb report in Metropolis, and it would just flow from there.

Did she care enough to ask him?

It was possible she was so annoyed she wouldn't want to speak to him again.

Mayson had taken great delight in punishing his disappearances with frosty silences ... after she had vented her anger at his inability to offer anything approaching a believable reason for not being at her beck and call.

Clark spun out of the suit and climbed into bed. Sleep, though, wouldn't come.

He *did* feel good about going to Metropolis. It had occurred to him that the bomb could be an attempt to lure him into the open, but he had gone anyway. And because he'd gone, many people had been saved from death or injury.

That certainly felt good.

But ultimately, what he craved, what he wanted more than anything else, was to be with Lois. He wanted to be with her ... every day, every night.

He wanted to use the powers he had been given.

And then, he wanted to come home.

To Lois.

But achieving that seemed much, much more difficult than deactivating a few bombs.

||_||

Clark watched some of the Opening Ceremony of the Atlanta Olympics as he prepared for work the next morning. He was going to the Essendon-Richmond game at the MCG with Bluey.

After he'd eaten breakfast, he turned off the television, picked up his jacket and notebook, and left his unit. Outside, it was a grey and overcast day. The air hung heavy with moisture, but it wasn't actually raining.

The gloominess matched his spirits.

Lois was going to be mad.

And if she wasn't mad - if she didn't care that he'd practically pushed her out of his home halfway through a game - that was even worse.

A whole weekend of football loomed ahead - a weekend where he hadn't been assigned the same games as Lois.

He needed to talk with her, but even if she were willing to talk to him, he couldn't see when there would be an opportunity.

Clark walked to the MCG, his hands deep in his pockets and his heart heavy.

||_||

The weekend eventuated as Clark had feared. When he and Bluey arrived back in the office from the MCG on Saturday evening, Lois wasn't there. Initially, he wasn't too concerned because he knew she had been at the Footscray game, which was further out of town, so it was to be expected that she would arrive later.

But she didn't.

"Where's Lois?" Clark asked Bluey after an hour of listening for her footsteps. "Shouldn't she be back from the Whitten Oval by now?"

"Hawthorn are playing Carlton out at Waverley tonight," Bluey said. "Browny is so sure his team will thrash the Hawks, he let Flinders email in her match report so she can get across town to watch the game."

"She's reporting on the Hawthorn game?"

Bluey laughed. "Not in a million years," he said. "Browny's not stupid enough to let Flinders do a Hawthorn game. Particularly not against his beloved Blues. That would be guaranteed anarchy." He grinned. "It'd be fun to watch, though."

Clark couldn't see any possible fun in the scenario but figured it would be best if they simply got on with their story. He tried to concentrate on it, but his disappointment sat like a sharp dagger against his heart.

He wouldn't be seeing Lois tonight.

It was after ten o'clock when Clark arrived home. He watched the last quarter of the Hawks game on television. Somewhat against the odds, Hawthorn had a big win - doubling Carlton's score of 49 and kicking six goals to two in the last quarter.

Lois would be happy.

Browny wouldn't be.

But it wasn't Browny Clark was hoping to ask on a date.

||_||

Lois walked slowly along Kerferd Road Beach. She was wearing her thickest coat, and most of the lower portion of her face was covered by her Hawthorn scarf, but she felt as if she were freezing.

She paused to look into the grey water of Port Phillip Bay and groaned. The one time she didn't envy footballers was during their recovery session. Dotted in the water was the Hawthorn team - happy and buoyant following their victory last night, but clearly suffering greatly from the dual effects of the cold water and the biting wind.

With a final grimace of heartfelt sympathy, Lois turned and continued her stroll along the beach.

Ahead, Ron and Barb walked hand-in-hand. Lois could hear their murmurings, but her collar was pulled high, and it was too much effort to attempt to follow their conversation.

And anyway, her own thoughts were enough to completely monopolise her mind.

Clark Kent was inexplicable.

At times - most of the time, actually - he seemed too good to be true. He was kind and considerate and practised a chivalry that many men couldn't have pulled off without looking ridiculous. But with Clark it wasn't ridiculous at all. He did it with a charm that just seemed so ... natural.

But twice now, he had suddenly needed to escape her presence.

The way forward was clear - uncomplicated, easy, safe, and patently obvious. Clark Kent was her colleague - a fleeting acquaintance who would soon return home to his life in Metropolis.

Yet the mere thought of him leaving hacked a canyon of protest through her heart.

Lois glanced across to Seb, who was walking with her - wearing only shorts and a thin jumper. He grinned and reached over to tug her scarf low enough to uncover her mouth.

"You're very quiet," he said. "I would've thought you'd have been jumping out of your skin after last night."

She grinned. "It was a glorious game, wasn't it?" she enthused. She glanced back to the water and shivered. "Though the boys are paying for it now."

"Yeah," Seb agreed. "I reckon it would feel better after a win than a loss, though. Do you think we'll make the finals?"

Lois took her hand from the depths of her coat pocket long enough to land a thump on Seb's arm. "If we don't, it'll be your fault."

"Mine?"

"We beat the reigning premiers last night - that's what happens when you get your scrawny carcass out of Sydney and actually get to a game."

He responded with embellished indignation. "You think our form this year is *my* fault?"

She nodded. "If we don't make the finals, Sebby Boy, I'll be coming after you with a big stick."

Seb put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her tight. His arm slipped up, and his hold ended up more of a headlock than an embrace. Lois chuckled. Despite the passing of over a decade, Seb still treated her like she was his big sister - imported into the family for no other reason than to give him someone to compete with. And compete they had - over just about everything imaginable.

She squirmed out of his loose hold and used her ruffled scarf to try to hide her delighted grin.

Barb turned around, took in the situation, smiled, and kept walking.

"Will you really?" Seb asked. "Will you really come to Sydney and visit me?"

"With my big stick?" Lois said. "Sure, why not?"

The amusement died from Seb's eyes. "What if that American is still here?"

Lois strangled the sigh that rose automatically. That American. That American who had pushed her out of his unit on Friday night claiming he needed to be alone.

As she had walked home, Lois had tried to make some sense of his bizarre behaviour. She'd failed. Until then, he'd seemed happy enough - a little jittery perhaps - but happy enough to be watching the footy with her. It had been his suggestion, for goodness' sake. Then, suddenly, from nowhere ... she was out the door.

And this was Clark - a man for whom manners and courtesy seemed as fundamental as those glasses he refused to take off. Clark - who on Friday night had been downright rude.

Lois shook her head. Men were unfathomable.

"No?" Seb queried. "No, he won't still be here? Or no, you won't be with him?"

Lois sighed. "What are you trying to say, Seb?"

"That I don't want you to get hurt again."

*Again*. Seb had to bring up *that*, didn't he? "I won't get hurt," Lois declared with a whole lot more confidence than she felt.

He smiled his boyishly endearing smile - the smile Lois knew he kept as insurance for when he felt he was about to say something that could get him into trouble. "It's just that the whole Claude thing ... Lois, I *never* want to see you get that hurt again."

"Me either," she assured him grimly.

"How can you be sure it won't happen this time?"

"Clark is going home. He knows it. I know it."

"But Lois -"

"How's business?" Lois asked.

"Brilliant," Seb said, though his tone didn't support his verbal assessment.

Lois grinned at him. "Seb," she said. "I'm OK. There's nothing between Clark and me - we're colleagues. He's good company, he needed some help learning the game - it's that simple. I don't fall for every bloke I meet, you know."

"It's pretty obvious that he's a bit more than 'some bloke'."

"Seb, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this." She put her hand on his arm. "Now tell me about Sydney. I suppose you're still wowing them?"

"Yep," Seb agreed with self-deprecating grin. "Jeweller to the revoltingly rich and fabulously famous - that's me."

"I watched the Logies a couple of months ago, and two of the actresses said they were wearing Sebastian Stone creations."

Seb shrugged dismissively. "That was nothing," he said. "You should see what's coming out of Coober Pedy this year."

"Opal?"

"Crystal opal. Beautiful blues and greens like I've never seen before."

"Expensive?"

Seb gave a low whistle. "I'm having a two-day expo in September - culminating in an auction. I'm expecting the prices to skyrocket."

Lois smiled at him. "I'm pleased for you, Seb. You deserve your success."

"Any chance you could come up for the expo?" he said. "I know you're busy, and it will be finals, but you say the word, and I'll send you the plane tickets."

"Thanks," Lois said. "I'll let you know."

Barb turned around and smiled at them. "We're going to get pizzas and take them home to eat while we watch the replay of last night's game," she said. "Are you two coming?"

"Sounds good to me," Lois said. "I'm not doing a game today."

"And after the replay," Seb said as he pointed at Lois, "We are going to play chess, and I am going to obliterate you from the board."

Lois grinned at the challenge in his tone. "Really?" she said. "Just like you did last time?"

He didn't argue further. Instead, he gave her a little shove backwards and ran away. "Beat you to the car," he called.

Lois giggled and set off after him.

||_||

For Clark, Sunday was no better than Saturday. Despite there being only one game in Melbourne, he wasn't able to work with Lois. Browny sent every reporter he had - except for Lois Lane - to Collingwood's home ground, Victoria Park. Their game was against Fitzroy - and it would be Fitzroy's first game since it had been decided that their future lay in another state.

Collingwood won easily - which delighted Gazza and Bluey - although Clark hadn't been able to squash his hope that the Fitzroy team would give their sad and angry and demoralised and shocked supporters something to cheer about.

Nobody seemed to know why Lois wasn't at Victoria Park. She wasn't in the Herald Sun office when they all trooped back there after the game.

After the match reports were done, the guys loudly decided they were going to the pub.

"Are you coming, Rubber?" Bluey asked.

Clark hesitated. In the interests of developing friendships with his colleagues, he should go with them. But he really wanted to check on Lois.

"Come on, Rubber," Gazza said. He grinned widely. "What's your problem, mate? It's not like you have a missus to put you through the wringer if you get home late."

The rest added their agreement, and Clark found himself following them to the pub.

After their drinks had arrived - Gazza had offered to shout first on account of Collingwood's victory - and they were seated around the table, the conversation turned - not unexpectedly - to football. They talked extensively about the games from the weekend, and then the subject moved to their upcoming game against the boys from the electronic media. The general consensus seemed to be that they needed to 'hit 'em hard and hit 'em often'.

Clark's apprehension ballooned inside him as he realised his teammates firmly believed that this game represented their chance to settle some old scores.

By the third round of drinks, they had moved to loudly speculating - with much hilarity - exactly how things would unfold between Browny and Lois the next morning.

Clark initially assumed they were saying that Browny would be annoyed because Lois hadn't been at Victoria Park today. Then he realised that the much-anticipated clash between Lois and Browny had nothing to do with any work issue, but the fact that Hawthorn had beaten Carlton.

"I *hate* losing to Hawthorn," Banjo said dismally. Immediately, the jovial atmosphere deflated.

"Yeah," Gazza agreed. "Flinders doesn't even say anything; she just looks at you with that smarmy smile and that haughty expression as if she knew all along that the Hawks would win."

Bluey turned to Clark. "Don't ever get into a stoush with Flinders about football," he said seriously. "She'll wipe the floor with you."

"Not that it'll be a problem for you," Gazza said. "Seeing as you decided to barrack for Hawthorn." His tone held deep regret mixed with a heavy dose of reproach.

Clark decided any response was likely to do him no good, so instead he picked up his glass and drank from his beer.

"The problem with Flinders," Banjo said, "Is that she knows all these obscure incidents from the past twenty years, and no matter what you say about Hawthorn, she can trump you and turn it on your club."

"And she *never* lets one go through to the keeper. You bag Hawthorn, and you just know she's going strike like a taipan."

"And I swear she knows more stats than any computer."

"And she knows when to use them."

"Where was she today?" Clark asked.

"Dunno," Gazza said with stark disinterest.

A small silence fell. Then Bluey said, "Wonder how Deano is going?"

There were a few shrugs and grunts.

"Poor bloke," Gazza said.

Banjo turned to Clark. "You wanna watch yourself, Rubber," he said gravely.

Clark didn't know how to respond, so he waited for someone else to continue the conversation.

"Yeah," Gazza said. "If you're not careful, you'll end up like Deano."

"And you've got Buckley's," Bluey said glumly.

"Every bloke's got Buckley's when it comes to Flinders," Banjo said.

Clark sipped from his beer, not understanding all of the words, but understanding enough of the tone that he didn't think it was complimentary to Lois. "Lois isn't here," he said. "Perhaps we shouldn't be talking about her."

Gazza shrugged. "Your loss, mate," he said. "We were only trying to save your skin."

"Yeah," Bluey added. "Deano had to skulk off to Yankee-land with finals just around the corner 'cause he couldn't hack being around Flinders, since she shafted him."

*She* shafted *him*? Whatever had happened, Clark didn't need speculation to figure out that Scardino had the sympathies of the men.

"Women," Banjo said, slowly shaking his head and then taking consolation in a gulp of his beer.

Clark decided this conversation had gone far enough. "We have training tomorrow," he said.

"Yeah, at Punt Road Oval, Richmond's training ground," Bluey said. "It's near your place, Rubber. Are you right to get there?"

"Yeah, thanks," Clark said. "What time?" He knew perfectly well what time they were supposed to be there, but he wanted to keep the subject moving away from Lois.

"Five," Gazza answered. "Do you have a pair of footy boots?"

"No."

"I'll bring some you can borrow," Gazza offered.

"Thanks."

The subject stayed on their game. Clark let it flow over him, not concentrating enough to be able to take in the still-not-familiar terms.

Where was Lois?

Had she gone to visit Ron and his wife? Had she seen Seb? Had Seb warned her against any involvement with someone who was here only temporarily?

If Lois was the one who had ended the relationship with Scardino, was that why she had seemed estranged from her colleagues when Clark had first arrived in Melbourne? It seemed clear that whatever had happened, they blamed her for it.

He longed to see her again.

But when he finally did, would she actually speak to him?

||_||

When Clark walked into the Herald Sun office the next morning, Lois was already at her desk. The sight of her stopped him in his tracks. Firstly, she was there. He hadn't seen her for over two days, and her presence caused his heart to make a very creditable attempt to catapult out of his chest.

But not only was she there, she was also nonchalantly leaning back in her seat with her feet perched on her desk. On her lap was a paperback that looked suspiciously like a trashy novel. And she appeared to be engrossed in it.

Clark stared. It was one thing to be so enamoured with a novel that she would read it surreptitiously at the office. It was quite another to do it so obviously ... it was as if Lois *wanted* people to notice.

He paused at her desk. She didn't look up from her book.

"Hi, Lois," he said, trying to make it sound like a casual greeting.

Slowly, her eyes lifted. "Hi, Clark."

She had spoken to him. Clark felt his tension loosen a few degrees. Her face was expressionless - offering nothing to help him gauge her level of annoyance about Friday night. The silence between them grew heavier by the second. She stared at him, waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat, as his mind thrashed about for something to say.

"Good book?" he asked.

"Very good."

"Ah ... Lois ... about Friday -."

Clark was interrupted by Browny's loud voice slicing through the newsroom chatter. Clark turned and saw that the editor was already on the crate, glaring around the room as people hurried to the space in front of him. "Listen up here," he snarled.

Clark joined the crowd and heard Lois's step behind him.

"The weekend's over," Browny said. "Losing Fitzroy has hit us for six, but we are professionals. The footy world still wants to know what's going on, and we are going to tell them. Saturday's match reports were late, sloppy, and worthy only to line the bottom of a bird cage. But I gave you some leeway, because we were still reeling from what happened to the Lions."

"And Carlton hadn't lost yet," Clark heard Lois mutter from behind him.

He thought there was a good chance Browny had heard, too, because his stony stare turned in Clark's general direction and lingered there. Clark held his breath, fearing Lois was about to pay for her gibe.

"Yesterday's reports were rubbish as well," Browny said, his eyes finally moving away. "So if any of you want a job this time next week, you will get off your rear end and get me some decent stories."

He stomped from the crate and stormed into his office. Before the crowd had had the chance to disperse, a loud roar sounded. "RUBBER!"

Clark gulped and caught Banjo's eyes.

"Better you than me, mate," Banjo said, and he scurried back to his desk.

At Browny's door, Clark hesitated. He decided to knock gently.

"Get your Yankee butt in here, Rubber," he heard from the other side of the door.

Clark pushed it open, entered the office and carefully closed the door.

"Get yourself to Fitzroy - the suburb," Browny ordered. "I want to know what the public think about the Lions' demise. Try Brunswick Street. Or the Fitzroy Town Hall in Napier Street. Just talk to people and find out what they're feeling now they've had a few days for it to sink in. Ask who they barrack for."

"OK," Clark said, figuring it would be wiser to ask Banjo or Bluey how to get to Fitzroy. He paused, hoping Browny would give him more guidance regarding the type of story he wanted. When it became obvious that no further direction was coming, Clark opened the door.

"And get that smug, smirking, swaggering, crowing, insolent brown-and-gold minx out of my newsroom."

Clark nodded and quickly exited.

Lois was still reading her book ... still looking more like she was on vacation than at work. She hadn't even turned on her computer. Clark crossed to her, apprehensive about his reception.

This time, she *did* look up at him. That was progress.

"Browny's given us a story," Clark said apologetically.

Lois closed her book and tossed it onto her desk. She swung her legs down and stood. "Where are we going?" she said.

"Fitzroy."

She picked up her bag. "We'll take the tram."

||_||

Glossary

Bag - criticise.

Buckley's - no chance. You've got Buckley's.

Let go through to the keeper - cricket term - to ignore, particularly something designed to provoke.

Logies - Australian TV's Emmys.

Shaft - to treat badly, particularly a friend or ally.

Stoush - an argument, or occasionally, a fist fight.

Taipan - Highly venomous Australian snake - http://www.kidcyber.com.au/topics/taipan.htm


Pics

North Melbourne beach recovery session - http://www.aflphotos.com.au/galleries/image/?q=beach%20recovery%20session&image_id=12400 (The only way I could pinpoint the single photo was to get into the 'buy' menu!)

Coober Pedy opals -

http://www.opalauctions.com/auctions/coober-pedy-opals/