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Clark's soft chuckle escaped past a mouth that couldn't stop grinning. "I get the feeling we've been set up," he said.

"How?"

"After Browny told me about having to go to Brisbane, he gave me two nights' accommodation in a place called Port Campbell and said I had to see the Ocean Road."

"When are you going?"

"He said I could have Tuesday off ... and I don't have to be in the office until Thursday afternoon." Clark watched Lois's face closely, eager for her reaction.

She pushed back her hair. "Have you thought about whether you wanted company?" she asked.

Clark grinned. "Of course I want company," he said. "Would you come with me?"

Lois matched his grin. "Are you sure?"

"Lois," he said, "I would love you to come with me. I have the number. I can call them now and book two rooms." He hesitated. "Please?"

Lois thought for a moment, and then her smile illuminated her face. "Yes," she said. "I'll come."

Clark wanted to leap out of his seat and throw his arms around her to give some release to the bubble of excitement that was quivering inside him. He made do with a wide smile. "Thank you," he said.

"That's a pretty impressive first date, big guy," Lois said. With a lingering smile, she walked back to her desk.


Part 21

The teams were in, the reports were written, and Lois and Clark left the office together.

"Lois?"

She smiled across at him. "Yes?"

"I know it's late and you're probably tired, but would you like to do something now?" Conscious of not wanting to pressure her, he tried to leach the desperation from his tone.

"What are you suggesting?"

Anything. Anything that would extend their time together. "Coffee? Supper? A walk? Milo on your couch?"

"A walk sounds nice."

Clark controlled his ecstatic smile and forced himself to ask, "Are you sure you're not too tired?"

A shadow of melancholy moderated her answering smile. Was it too much to hope that she was also thinking about the yawning cavern of separation that stretched before them? "I'm fine," she said. "Would you like to go into the city? Or along the Yarra River?"

"The Yarra," Clark said. "Are you cold?"

Lois took her hand from her jacket pocket and examined it. "I forgot to bring my gloves," she said. "So this hand might get cold." She held it towards him with a little smile of invitation.

Clark felt a rush of jubilation. He didn't take her hand immediately. The anticipation was so sweet he wanted to savour it. Then he slid his hand around hers and met her eyes with a smile. "Lois ..."

"Clark ..."

His heart was so full. Full of her. Full of hope for a future that centred on her. "I booked the rooms for next week," he said, because that transported them beyond their separation and to the time when they could be together.

"Thanks," Lois said. "Have you read about the Great Ocean Road?"

"I think there was a promotion for it on the airplane coming from Sydney," Clark said. "But I didn't take a lot of notice."

"It is stunning."

They reached the Yarra and took the riverside path. The air was crisp and still. Clark glanced down at Lois, checking for signs she was cold. She seemed OK for now.

"Do you need to go back to the office for anything?" she asked.

"No."

"We could keep walking along the river until we get to Swan Street and then take a tram home."

"What about the Jeep?"

"I can get it tomorrow."

"OK."

They continued in silence. There was so much Clark wanted to say. So much he wanted to tell her. So much he wanted to ask her. But knowing where to start - that was the difficulty. Before he had managed to work out what to say, Lois spoke.

"You seem disappointed about going interstate."

Clark chuckled bleakly. "I'm gutted," he said.

Lois grinned at his use of the Australian phrase. "Brisbane's a great city, and Adelaide is beautiful," she said. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time."

"That wasn't what I meant." He looked down at Lois and saw her thinly veiled smile. "And I think you know that," he added.

"I can't imagine why you would want to hang around Melbourne when you have the chance to see other cities," she mused.

"I had a date ..."

"Oh. That."

"Yes, that."

"Clark, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

They took a few silent steps. "You seem ... I mean ... It would be easy for me to think that this date is important to you. If I'm reading it wrongly, I'd really appreciate it if you told me now."

Clark stopped walking and slipped his hand from hers. He took possession of her shoulders and gently turned her towards him. He gazed down into her beautiful brown eyes that were overcast with questions. "It is *very* important to me," he vowed solemnly.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly." He slid his fingers forward along the definition of her cheekbone, and then retreated and rested his hand in the soft cushion of her hair. "Is there any possibility that you could feel something for me beyond friendship?"

Her eyelids flickered, and he felt her shoulders lift with a diminutive sigh. "I've been trying really hard *not* to."

Her inference hurtled through his brain, and Clark swallowed roughly, trying to moisten an arid throat. "I think you should stop trying," he murmured.

Much of the uncertainty in her eyes drained away, and amusement garnished her expression. "You do?"

He nodded. Lois lifted her hands and placed them on his chest. His eyes slid downwards to her enchanting mouth. "Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you?" he said in a low voice.

"Are you going to?"

Was he? "I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because maybe the right thing to do would be to wait until our date."

Lois chuckled, and the intensity of the moment slowly ebbed away. "I have never known another man who could say that without losing all credibility."

"I want this to be perfect for you, Lois," Clark said earnestly. "That's what I want that more than anything else."

Her fingers dove under his jacket and skimmed his ribs. When her hands met behind his back, she laid her head on his upper chest. Clark tightened his arms around her.

Her heartbeat had accelerated, but her body was relaxed against him. Clark knew his own heart was racing. Yet he also felt an all-pervading serenity - *this* was where he belonged.

He had searched all his life to find the place where he truly belonged. But it wasn't a place, it was a person.

It was her. His beautiful Lois.

He kissed the top of her head. He felt a little quiver weave through her body - probably laughter, he surmised. She eased away, though her arms stayed anchored around him. "Was that my kiss?" she enquired with a small smile.

His mind could think of nothing to say, so he merely nodded.

She stretched onto her toes and brushed a soft kiss on his cheek.

As she moved away, their eyes locked and held, shooting a cascade of bubbling joy through him.

With a little smile, she glanced sideways. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's ..."

He was saved from having to reply further when her hand slid up his shirt and burrowed under his jacket. Her fingers began to work his shoulder. A patch of heat radiated out from their contact and spread down his arm, down his back, across his chest. "Uhhmm," Clark said in a throaty tone.

Lois smiled. "Has it given you any trouble?" she asked.

He eyed her. "Truthfully?" he said. "None at all. But please don't let that deter you."

She chuckled. "I'm surprised. It looked like a decent hit." Her fingers drifted slowly towards his neck.

Clark closed his eyes and soaked up her touch.

When she stopped, he took her hand and enfolded it in both of his. "You're getting cold," he said.

"I don't feel cold."

"Still, it's time I got you home."

They arrived at Swan Street and caught the tram; twenty minutes later, they stood at Lois's door.

"I'll probably see you tomorrow," Clark said. "But ..."

"I know," Lois said. "We might not even get a chance to say 'good-bye' properly. I'll probably be out on a story."

"Lois, I want to promise you something."

She seemed a little surprised by the gravity in his tone. "OK," she said.

"This weekend - no matter what happens - I will not be going out with any other women. I won't flirt with them in bars; I won't allow them to think for a moment that I'm remotely interested in anything beyond being polite."

Lois brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "Thank you," she said.

"I wouldn't, anyway," Clark said. "But I want you to *know* I wouldn't."

"Thank you," she repeated.

It was late, and he had to leave. Clark dreaded walking away ... walking away knowing that he wouldn't be alone with her again for three days. "It's going to be a long weekend," he said.

Lois nodded. "But we can think about Tuesday. On Tuesday morning, we'll have two and a half days together."

"Yeah. It's going to be incredible."

Lois stepped back. "I'll miss you, big guy," she said.

"I'll miss you," he said. Terribly.

She unlocked her door and pushed it open. "Goodnight, Clark."

"Goodnight, honey."

She paused as his words sank in. Then her smile slowly appeared. She reached for his hand and gave it a little squeeze. Then, with one last smile, she stepped into her unit and closed the door.

Clark was glad she did - because he wasn't sure he could have forced himself to walk away while she still stood there.

He waited a moment, passively accepting the strong swell of longing that rose within him - the longing to be with Lois.

When it had subsided a little, he turned and walked away. The tips of his fingers grazed over the place on his cheek where she had left her kiss.

He loved her.

He loved her more than he had ever hoped it would be possible to love someone.

And he would love her forever.

||_||

"Clark?"

He looked up from his desk, already knowing it was Lois and already knowing why she had come. "Yes?" he said with the best smile he could manage.

"Browny has given me a story," she said.

"What story?" he asked, desperate to delay her leaving, even if only for a few minutes.

Lois frowned. "One of the AFL administrators ... one of the guys who is seen by the Fitzroy supporters as being the culprit ... he's offered us a 'look into his life' story."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we will see his wife and his children and his home ... and he's hoping all of that will make everyone realise that he's just a normal guy ... and feel more kindly disposed to him ... and conveniently forget that he was a willing accomplice to the sacrifice of a football club."

"Publicity 101," Clark said.

Lois nodded. "Yeah," she said. "And I can understand why Browny accepted his offer - the timing's right, and usually the administrators are loath to expose their families to any publicity."

"The fact that he's offering a look at his family shows he's pretty worried about the reaction to the merger."

"Yeah," she said. "It's smart, though. It works every time. Show us a husband and a father dressed in jeans and a jumper, and we'll see him very differently from the stilted businessman in the starchy suit."

"I'm sure you'll write a great story."

Lois sighed. "I'm not. The merger is off limits. This is a human interest story ... or propaganda, depending on your point of view."

"I wish I could come with you," Clark said, his voice very low.

Lois forced a smile. "I'll be fine," she said. "I'm just grumpy today."

Clark answered her smile. "Why?"

"Because I had a date tonight ... and now I don't."

"I'm sorry," Clark said.

"It's not your fault," she said quickly. "But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed."

"I'm disappointed, too."

"I know," she said.

"I get back late on Sunday. Can I call you and see if you're still awake?"

"I'll still be awake," she said decisively.

"Don't stay up if the plane is delayed." Though the selfish part of him hoped she would.

Lois smiled wanly and her expression mirrored his feelings exactly. "See you," she said. "Have a good weekend."

"Yeah," he replied, though they both knew he wouldn't. "See you ... honey."

Lois turned, somewhat abruptly, and walked away.

Clark watched her.

At the door, she turned back. She smiled - wistfully. He smiled back - equally so.

Then she walked away.

Inside, Clark could feel the emptiness settle like lead in his stomach ... because he was going to be away from Lois for three days.

Three impossibly long days.

||_||

Later, Clark, Gazza, and Banjo went to the airport and boarded the flight to Brisbane. It was a beautiful city, set on a river and just inland of breathtaking surf beaches.

They spent the afternoon at the Brisbane Football Club, talking with officials and administrators about the process of two clubs becoming one.

They went back to their motel and had a meal in the restaurant. Clark excused himself early and went to his room to call Lois.

They talked as colleagues - about work, and football, and their stories - as if by unspoken agreement, they would put aside their personal feelings until they could be together again.

Really together.

After their call had finished, Clark turned on the television but discovered that Friday night football in Brisbane wasn't AFL, but rugby. He switched off the television and sat in the chair, staring ahead.

He just wanted to be with Lois.

He wanted to be eating flake and chips, and drinking Milo, and sitting on her couch - perhaps with his arm around her - as they watched the football.

So strong was his longing that he considered flying south to Melbourne and simply knocking on her door - and then truthfully answering every last one of her questions.

He didn't - he wanted to do this right.

He would tell her about himself - but when the time was right.

With a deep sigh, he went to bed ... and lay there, thinking about Lois.

After ten minutes, he gave up.

He leapt from the bed, spun into the suit, and headed to Metropolis.

Surely, in a city the size of Metropolis, there had to be a distraction for a heartsick caped Superhero who was yearning for the woman he loved.

||_||

Mercifully, Saturday was a full day. In the morning, Clark and Banjo had an interview with the Brisbane CEO. After that, they met Gazza for lunch, and then they wrote up their story in the afternoon. Together, they went to the Brisbane-West Coast game in the evening, submitted a match report, and finally caught the very last plane to Adelaide.

Banjo bemoaned that they'd had very little time for Clark to take in the local sights, but Clark could honestly say he wasn't terribly disappointed.

He called Lois as he waited to board their flight. Hawthorn had lost badly to Richmond, and he could feel her dejection. He wished he could have been there for her.

Clark and his colleagues flew to Adelaide, and the next morning they talked to two Fitzroy administrators before the game - the contrast in optimism for the future between them and the Brisbane representatives was stark. Then, they attended the Adelaide-Fitzroy game - which Fitzroy lost by ninety-nine points. Even with his embryonic knowledge of football, Clark could see that the Fitzroy players were dispirited. Something vital was missing.

He wondered if forcing them to play out these last few meaningless games was actually a greater cruelty than shunting them off to Brisbane.

They submitted another match report - though there really wasn't a lot that could be said about such a one-sided game ... and there was very little point in even looking for positives for the losing team.

Tired but - in Clark's case at least - incredibly eager to get home, they arrived at Adelaide Airport to discover the devastating news that their flight had been delayed ... indefinitely.

They conducted a quest for information - and swiftly concluded that if anyone *did* actually know the reasons behind the delay, it wasn't information they were willing to divulge to passengers. Trying to establish any sort of possible timeframe for resumption of services proved equally frustrating.

While Gazza and Banjo called their respective partners, Clark called Lois to tell her the news. He could feel her distress - it matched his.

"I'll wait up," she said.

"Lois." He couldn't force himself to give up all hope that he would see her tonight but he had to be honest. "They can't even give us an estimated time of departure. And, even if flights resume tonight, I still have to get from Tullamarine Airport back to Richmond."

"I'll wait up," she repeated.

"I'm going crazy with missing you," Clark said, knowing he sounded forlorn.

"Me, too," she said glumly.

"See you soon."

"I'll be waiting for you."

Clark hung up the phone and reflected on the stupidity of waiting indefinitely for a fickle metal box to take an hour to fly him to Lois when he could get himself there in less than a minute.

He couldn't do it.

He wanted to be with Lois.

He wanted to tell her the truth about himself.

And he most definitely didn't want to wait an indeterminate time for the dubious pleasure of being subjected to an hour in a crowded airplane with people who were already crotchety and impatient.

He moved to where Gazza and Banjo were trying to get comfortable on seats clearly not designed for comfort. "I don't think there will be a flight tonight," Clark said. "I think the best idea would be to make a booking for the first flight tomorrow."

Gazza and Banjo looked at each other, considering Clark's assessment of the situation. "Easy for you," Gazza said. "You don't have a missus waiting for you at home."

"Yeah," Banjo said. "And whatever the hold-up is - it might get fixed pretty quickly."

"They didn't sound hopeful," Clark said. "Actually, they didn't sound like they knew much at all."

Banjo nodded. "But I'm going to wait it out here a bit longer."

"Me, too," Gazza said.

"I think it would be better to have a good night's sleep," Clark said. He picked up his bag. "See you tomorrow."

Gazza thumped his bag, trying to bash it into a more comfortable pillow. "See you, Rubber."

Clark hurried away from their terminal - looking for somewhere with enough privacy to allow him to spin into the suit and then fly away so quickly he couldn't be tracked by the airport radar equipment.

His cell rang in his pocket. He figured it was Lois, and he smiled at the thought of knocking on her door as she waited for him to answer her call. She would be surprised - no question - but he hoped the shock wouldn't diminish her happiness at seeing him again.

He just wanted to be with her - nothing else mattered.

Noticing that a few bored people were staring at him, Clark decided, in the interests of not being too conspicuous, to answer his cell. He pulled it from his pocket and saw it wasn't Lois calling but his mother.

"Hi, Mom," he said.

"Clark," she said breathlessly. "Have you heard the news?"

"No. What news?"

"The Daily Planet. The staff have been taken hostage - Perry, Jimmy, Mayson, everyone. The perpetrators are threatening to murder them one by one unless their demands are met."

Cold horror crawled through Clark's veins. "What demands?"

"They want Superman. Jason Trask - that government agent who said all those horrible things - he's demanding that Superman meets with him, or he will begin executing the hostages in fifteen minutes."

Clark closed his eyes. The Daily Planet and Superman - how had Trask linked them? Was it possible he'd discovered that Superman actually worked for the great Metropolitan newspaper? "Are they still inside the Daily Planet building?"

"The information is very sketchy - contradictory even - but there are rumours that people were taken out the back of the building." He heard his mother take a calming breath. "Everything is so vague, Clark, but ... I thought you should know."

"Is the SWAT team there?"

"Yes, but Trask is so totally out of control, they're worried that anything they do will result in many deaths."

"I have to go there," Clark said.

He heard the sharp intake of breath from his mom. "I knew you would feel like that." He could hear the fear vibrate through her words.

"I don't have a choice, Mom," he insisted. "I can't let people die. I can't let my friends die. And there's every chance this is somehow linked to me."

"I know ... and that is why your father and I thought I should call you."

"I have to go now, Mom,"

"Be careful, honey," she begged. "Please, be careful."

"I will."

"I love you, Clark."

"I love you, too. And Dad."

Clark hung up and slipped into the male bathrooms. Less than a minute later, he was in the air and flying towards Metropolis.

||_||

Clark hovered above the Daily Planet office.

Outside, under the globe, several television reporting crews had gathered. One woman was talking into a camera. Clark tuned in his hearing.

" ... do we know why the Daily Planet was targeted?" The voice came from her earphone.

"It is believed to be tied to the recent refusal of the paper to publish unproven allegations about Superman and his intentions towards the people of Earth," she replied.

"Following the subway train disaster, the Daily Planet was very vocal in its condemnation of Superman."

"Yes," the on-site reporter agreed. "And it seems possible that the about-turn by the newspaper's editor, Perry White, may be the reason why his staff was forcibly removed from the Daily Planet building."

"Do we know where they have been taken?"

"They were marched at gunpoint into a military vehicle, and there has been a reported sighting of a similar vehicle near the EPRAD launch site."

"What do we know about Jason Trask?"

Clark didn't wait to hear more. He flew to EPRAD. A small rocket was on the launch pad. He looked into the building and quickly located Perry, Jimmy, Cat, Mayson, Dan, Ralph, Pete, and about ten others from the Daily Planet. Their wrists and feet were bound, and they were shut in a small room.

In the adjoining, much larger, room were Jason Trask, about fifteen armed soldiers dressed in fatigues, and five men in suits. Clark thought he recognised at least two of them as government officials. A cameraman - his camera perched on his shoulder and with a sound guy leashed to him via a microphone lead - waited nervously in the corner.

Trask prowled the room like a caged lion. His face was crimson, and his white long-sleeved shirt showed large patches of sweat.

As Clark watched, Trask kicked open the door between the two rooms, and stormed into the midst of the hostages. The cameraman attempted to follow, but the door was slammed in his face.

Trask crossed to Mayson and stared down at her. He shoved the end of his rifle against her shoulder. "Where is he?" he demanded.

Mayson looked terrified - so terrified, Clark felt a moment's pity for her. Mayson - always so assured, so in control - had been reduced to a very frightened young woman. That alone said plenty about Trask. "I ... I ... don't know," she stammered.

"You *do* know," Trask screamed. "You knew the truth about the murdering aliens. You *knew* the truth, and now you no longer will admit to what you know is the truth. Therefore, they must have gotten to you. They must have threatened you or hypnotised you or possessed you, because I can tell that you no longer believe the truth."

Mayson stared at him but said nothing.

"WHERE IS HE?" Trask screamed, punctuating each word with a stab of his rifle into her shoulder.

"I ... I ..."

"Get him here," Trask demanded. "You have two minutes to get him here, or you will watch every one of your colleagues die a painful and excruciating death, and then you will finally meet the deserved end of a traitor to her country."

"I ... I ... have ... no way ... of -"

"Leave her alone," Scardino said from where he sat next to Mayson. "She's already said she doesn't know how to get Superman."

Trask turned to Dan and swung his rifle butt across Dan's head. The Australian slumped, unconscious.

Clark flew down, super-sped through a couple of doors, and passed unnoticed through a trail of guards. He stepped between Mayson and Trask. Straightening his shoulders and crossing his arms, he gazed steadily at Trask. "You wanted to see me."

Trask's eyes gleamed. "Superman," he said in a maniacal voice. "How nice of you to make a final appearance."

"Final?" Clark said. "I'm only just beginning."

"You are strong and powerful," Trask sneered. "But human technology is far more advanced than you ever gave us credit for."

Clark crouched beside Dan. There was a trickle of blood coming from a gash on his forehead, but he was still breathing.

Trask thrust a device that looked like a remote control into Clark's face. "See this?" he spat. "See this? If you don't do exactly what I say, it will take just one tiny touch to this button for this room to be filled with lethal gas, and every one of these traitorous humans will die."

Clark slowly stood. "You said you were trying to protect your people," he said coolly. "Now you plan to kill them."

"There will always be sacrifices for the greater good," Trask said. "Those who lose their lives will do so in the most important cause that has ever faced the inhabitants of Earth."

"I mean you no harm," Clark said.

Trask smirked with satisfaction. "Soon, you will not have the means to cause us harm," he said. He jerked his rifle towards the door. "Get out!" he ordered.

Clark walked from the small room. He heard Trask follow him and lock the door. Trask shoved past Clark and strode purposefully across the room and up a short flight of stairs. Once at the top, he turned and faced the assembled crowd.

Clark watched the remote control, still embedded in Trask's clenched fist. Clark scanned inside the device, and then between the walls, and realised with sickening horror that the threat was real. He stared ahead, trying to look impassive, as his mind considered how best to avert disaster.

Trask peered around the room. When his gaze fell to the cameraman, he beckoned him to move forward. The cameraman and his accompanying sound technician moved to the bottom of the stairs.

Clark watched Trask's thumb - precariously close to the button. In the excitement of what Trask obviously saw as his big moment, he seemed to have forgotten that he held the lives of more than a dozen people in his hand.

Trask took a deep breath, and then, looking directly down into the camera, he began. "Fellow inhabitants of Earth," he said. "Today is a great day in our history. Today is the accumulation of many months of investigation and scientific discovery. Today is the day that the peoples of Earth stand as one and overcome the alien invasion. Today is the day that we quash the most deadly threat we have ever faced."

He paused and very slowly scrutinized the room. He finished with a long stare into the camera. Clark took a step closer to the adjoining room.

"Today is the day of our triumph."

With a flourish, Trask swept his free arm and turned to watch as, from behind him, two men pushed forward a trolley. On the trolley sat a metal container slightly bigger than a shoebox.

Trask lovingly ran his hand over the top of the container. Clark was concentrating on his other hand. His thumb had shifted sideways - almost far enough from the button that Clark could risk pouncing on him.

"This is the key to our victory," Trask said. "This is the means by which we will wrest back the control of our planet from the invaders who came to seize it from us."

With a sharp movement, Trask lifted the lid from the box.

A shaft of intense pain assaulted Clark's body.

He briefly registered the presence of the glowing green chunk of rock in the box.

Clutching his chest, Clark collapsed to the ground.