Lois sighed as the game began. She would only watch the first quarter. Hawthorn had won that quarter, and, for a time, she had hoped for an unlikely victory. They were out of the Eight now, and their chances of playing finals were slim. There were four games left in the season.
Four games this season.
Maybe ... four games ... forever.
The television screen blurred as hot tears stung her eyes. Four games and then ... maybe ... no more.
Ever.
Part 31
When Clark arrived back at his unit, he turned on the computer and checked the Daily Planet site. To his surprise, the headline story was the forthcoming interview with Superman. Was Perry reacting to Mayson's demands? Or to genuine public interest? Either way, Clark realised that despite his reservations, he was very glad that Lois would be by his side when he faced Linda and Mayson.
The papers suggested that the interview take place at nine o'clock the following Tuesday morning. That would be eleven o'clock Tuesday night Melbourne time, which was perfect. It wouldn't clash with their work commitments, and Clark would have the following day off to help Lois if she were tired.
He speed-read a few stories that weren't Superman related. Mayson had written about the establishment of the Luthor Foundation for Sick Children. She usually didn't deign to report on charities. Of course, the name 'Luthor' could have been the deciding factor. Was it too much to hope that Mayson had become more amenable following the Trask debacle?
Clark had long empathised with Perry in his battle with Mayson. She *never* backed down. Perry had kept control of his own newsroom - but not without having to overcome continual challenges from Mayson. Now, Perry's health had suffered, and he really needed to minimise his stress.
Impulsively, Clark picked up the phone and dialled the desk of his Daily Planet editor.
"Perry White," came the voice Clark knew so well.
"Chief, it's Clark."
"Clark." He could hear the pleasure in Perry's voice. "It's good to hear from you. How are you doing in Australia?"
"I'm doing fine," Clark said. He wanted to tell Perry about Lois, but decided against it. Perry was a cagey old newshound, well used to making connections. If the headline today was the forthcoming interview with Superman, the furore next week was going to be all about his girlfriend. "I see the Planet got the big interview with Superman."
"Yeah," Perry said. His level of enthusiasm was hard to decipher from half-a-world away.
"And Mayson's doing it?"
"Yeah." This time, there was no mistaking the lukewarm response. "Her uncle - the one on the board - put up the money, with the stipulation that Mayson gets the interview."
"But you have doubts?"
Perry sighed. "I'm not sure about this, Clark. If Superman *is* an alien, it will be the biggest story of my career. Even if he's not, he had to get those powers somehow, and the public wants to know. I couldn't let the Star get the exclusive."
"But?"
"But I've never liked chequebook journalism. I don't like having to buy stories."
"I read that the money is going to charity."
"Yeah," Perry said. "And it will do a power of good - half a million will help a lot of underprivileged kids in Metropolis." He chuckled suddenly. "I don't think Superman knows what he's got himself into - it took Mayson and Linda King more than half an hour today to negotiate a deal where the interview takes place in the Daily Planet conference room, but Linda gets the first question."
"Maybe they'll be so engrossed in outdoing each other, they won't put too much heat on Superman," Clark said, careful to keep his tone casual.
"I doubt that," Perry said. "Neither of them is easily diverted from their prey."
Clark felt his apprehension rise again. He changed the subject. "How have you been, Chief?" he asked. "Are you looking after yourself?"
"You know how it is, Clark," Perry said. "There's always another edition to put to bed, always another story to chase."
"Has Mayson been OK? She hasn't been making it too difficult for you?"
"Mayson is Mayson," Perry said. "There's no one like her for getting the big stories."
Clark knew that. "But she makes the entire newsroom a stressful place."
"Yeah."
"She hasn't been any better?" Clark enquired hopefully.
"No," Perry said. "She's been worse since the Trask incident. She's completely intractable."
"Do you think it's possible that she was working with Trask?" Clark said. "She has never liked Superman."
"If she was, she won't admit it to me," Perry said wearily. "But the thought crossed my mind, too."
"Mayson has a lot of dubious contacts," Clark said. "But Trask was not a man to be taken lightly."
"I know," the editor said. "But you can't tell Mayson that."
"Look after yourself, Perry."
"You, too," Perry said. "Thanks for the call."
"Bye, Chief."
Clark hung up and stared ahead for a long moment. He really hoped the Chief would be OK. And he hoped Mayson would back off and let Perry do his job without her constant attempts to bludgeon him into compliance.
But Clark knew it was unlikely. He could only hope that it wouldn't adversely affect the Chief's health.
||_||
"Ready?" Lois asked.
Clark looked up from the final read-through of his story. Banjo had done the main match report, but Browny had assigned Clark to write up the press conference with the victorious Geelong coach. "Two more minutes," he said.
"Would you like me to read it before you submit it?" Lois asked.
"Sure," Clark said. "Thanks." He stood from his seat and offered it to her.
She shook her head. "Sit down," she said. "I'll look over your shoulder."
He sat again, and Lois's hand landed on his neck. She leant forward a little, her eyes flicking across his screen as her thumb found the little strip of bare skin above his collar and gently skimmed along it. Clark forced his wayward attention back to his story.
A few moments later, Lois reached for the screen and pointed. "Geelong *are*," she corrected. "Not Geelong *is*."
"Arggh," Clark said as he fixed it. He *knew* that.
"Easy to do," Lois said as her thumb continued to spread sweet sensation along his neck. She read to the end of his story and turned to him with a smile. "Great job, Clark," she said. "It reads like you've been reporting on footy for months, not weeks."
"Thanks." He submitted the story and began closing down his computer. The Metropolis news site he kept open in the background had updated its headline - there had been an explosion in an ammunition factory in the north of the city.
Lois leant close to his ear. "Come by ... afterwards ... if you want to," she whispered. "It doesn't matter how late; you have a key." She straightened and walked away. At her desk, she sat down, picked up a pencil, and began scribbling notes. When Clark passed her, she glanced up at him and said casually, "See you tomorrow."
"Bye, Lois," he replied. He hurried into the cold Melbourne night, reflecting on how much easier it was to be Superman when it didn't entail the need to concoct improbable excuses.
Not that he enjoyed leaving Lois.
But it was so good to know that once he had done what he could - helped those he could help, saved those he could save - he could come back to her.
And that meant everything.
||_||
Clark stood outside Lois's door, clenching her key in his fist. Melbourne time, it was almost three in the morning. The fire in the factory had been fierce and well-established by the time he'd arrived. Some people had already escaped. Those who hadn't were either dead, badly burned, or severely affected by smoke inhalation. Clark had doggedly searched for, and found, every one of them.
Once back in Melbourne, he'd gone to his unit and changed out of his smoky suit. While he'd showered, he'd refused to allow himself to contemplate going to Lois. Sure, she had offered - but it was the middle of the night. She would be asleep.
He couldn't go to her.
He shouldn't even think about it.
But when he'd stood beside his bed and willed himself to get in, he just hadn't been able to do it. Less than a minute later, he was outside Lois's door.
She'd said he could come.
But had she meant it?
She'd said the time didn't matter.
Clark pushed the key into the lock and opened her door. He entered her home and quietly closed the door behind him. Lois was in her bedroom; he could hear the steady breaths of her slumber.
Everything within him wanted Lois. Ached for her.
But ... she was asleep.
He had to decide quickly, otherwise he risked startling her if she awoke and realised someone was in her unit. "Lois?" he said quietly.
"Clark?" Unbelievably, her voice came through the darkness.
"Yes, it's me."
A dull light shimmered under her door. "Come in," she said.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He pushed open her bedroom door. Lois was sitting up in bed, her hair a little tussled and her eyes squinting against the muted light from the lamp beside her bed.
"Are you OK?" she asked.
He nodded. "I shouldn't have come."
"Why not?"
"It's the middle of the night."
"So?"
"You were asleep."
She patted the bed. "Come over here," she said. "Sit next to me." He did, and she covered his hand with hers. "Are you all right?"
"The fire was well-advanced when I got there."
"Casualties?"
He nodded dejectedly.
Lois shuffled away from him. "I know you probably won't actually get into the bed with me, but I think you should stay here for a while." She smiled encouragingly. "There's room for two."
Still, he hesitated. He wanted to ask if she were sure, just to hear her affirm what he already knew.
She rose from the bed - she was wearing soft pink pyjamas with a large teddy bear print - and went to the closet. She returned with a throw blanket and slipped back between the sheets. "I know you don't feel the cold, but we'll put this over you."
She waited for him to make the next move. Clark removed his glasses and placed them near the lamp. He sat awkwardly on her bed and took off his shoes and sweater. Feeling more than a little uneasy, he reclined onto Lois's bed and stared at the ceiling. Lois arranged the throw blanket over him and then settled her head into the junction where his arm met his upper body. "Have you got enough room?" she asked.
"Yes, thanks. Have you?"
"Yes. Tell me what happened."
He did. He started talking, and everything flooded out. He told her about the bodies, and the burns, and the unforgettable, sickening smell. He talked as he had never talked before. He went beyond the details - which he had occasionally told his parents - and shared his feelings. He spoke of his sorrow, and his heartache, and his anguish for the people whose lives had ended or changed forever in the fury of the flames.
Her hand gently soothed him.
Her warmth seeped into him.
Her presence drove away the lurking shadow of his memories.
When he'd told her everything, there was silence.
Clark listened as their breaths mingled, and their heartbeats merged, and their love settled around them like a whispering canopy of closeness.
"Are you OK?" Lois asked.
"I need you, Lois," Clark said huskily. "I can't be Superman without you."
"You don't have to be."
"Thank you."
"What did you do before?" she asked. "Before you knew me? Did you go to your parents after something like this?
"Sometimes."
"What did you do the other times?"
"I'd go away somewhere - somewhere I could be by myself."
"Promise me you'll never do that again." Lois lifted off his chest and looked down at him. "Promise me, Clark," she said. "Promise me you'll come to me ... regardless of the time, or what I'm doing, or anything else ... Promise me you won't ever again try to do this alone."
"Lois," he said, his voice splintering. "Lois ..."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
She kissed his cheek and then settled again on his chest.
Clark tightened his arms around her. He never wanted to move. He wanted this - not just after a rescue, but every night.
"I should leave," he said wretchedly. "I don't want Esmeralda seeing me sneak away in the morning."
"Then don't sneak," Lois said pragmatically. "Fly."
Clark chuckled. "You don't mind if I stay?"
"I want you to stay."
"You should try to get more sleep," he said.
"Are you going to be all right?"
How could he not be all right when she had given him such an abundance of understanding, and love, and comfort, and support? "Yes," he said. "Because of you."
She wriggled to a more comfortable position and sighed deeply. "G'night, my love," she said.
"Goodnight, honey," he said.
Less than a minute later, her body had relaxed, and her breathing had slipped into a steady rhythm.
Clark didn't sleep.
He held Lois.
And marvelled at his amazing good fortune.
He'd found her.
Clark had found her.
Superman needed her.
She loved him.
And all he wanted was to be with her forever.
||_||
On Tuesday evening, Clark let himself into Lois's apartment and began to unpack the bag of groceries he'd bought. Hopefully, Lois wouldn't be too late.
They had attended the game together on Sunday, but on Monday when Clark had gone to the Herald Sun office, Lois had continued trying to establish an anti-merger campaign. They had spent Monday evening together - slipping easily between the diverse topics of a superhero's first interview and the salvaging of a football club.
He missed Lois's presence in the newsroom, but the knowledge they would spend the evening together was like a beacon shining through a dim day. Later tonight, they would fly to Metropolis for Superman's interview.
Clark was cutting up the vegetables when he heard a familiar motor. He quickly washed and dried his hands and hurried to the door. Lois was climbing out of the Jeep with slow and sombre movements.
He met her and took her into his arms. "Bad day, honey?" he asked.
She managed a wan smile. "Yeah," she said. "It seemed everyone I talked to believes that we have no choice but to merge." She lifted her hand and showed him the mail she had collected from the post box. "And I got this."
Clark took it. It was from the Hawthorn Football Club. "What do you think it is?"
"It's official," Lois said. "It's probably outlining the case for the merger."
"Why did they send this to you?"
"They would've sent one to every member," she said. "Anyone who hasn't already decided how to vote ... this is probably going to tip them in the direction of the merger."
Clark put his arm across her shoulder and ushered her inside. "Sit down, and I'll make you coffee," he said. "Dinner isn't ready yet."
"I came home early," Lois said.
"That bad, huh?"
"Yeah," she said. She plonked her bag on the table and snatched for the tissues as her eyes welled with tears.
Clark gently turned her into his body and held her close against his chest. He felt the frustration and despair shudder through her body. He hated her being upset - hated that, despite all his strength, he was powerless to give her club a future.
He kissed the top of her head and slowly ran the palm of his hand down her upper arm. As much as he hated her distress, he loved that she had turned to him for comfort.
A minute later, she straightened and wiped her eyes. "I've realised I can't do this alone," she said.
Clark used his fingertips to brush back her hair. "You'll never be alone."
She smiled sadly. "I know. But Hawthorn is bigger than us. In our song, we sing the line, 'one for all and all for one.' Being inclusive, being expansive enough to include everyone, achieving as a whole what can't be achieved alone - that's intrinsic to who we are." She glanced up, and he saw hopelessness in her eyes. "I can't save Hawthorn by going against everything we stand for."
"What are you going to do?" Clark asked as moved away to make coffee for them.
Lois shrugged. "I don't know," she said. She brightened, forcing a smile. "But that's not the only reason I came home early - we need to get ready for our interview tonight."
Clark was glad to see even the shadow of her smile. "I flew home to Smallville during my lunch break, and Mom showed me where she'd sewed a 'U' and a 'W' on your suit."
Lois chuckled. "That's cute."
"I did something else today," he said in a tone that invited her curiosity.
She grinned. "Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?"
Clark slipped his wallet from his pocket, opened it, and pulled out a card. Before it had fully emerged, Lois squealed with excitement and hugged him.
"You bought a membership," she said.
Clark nodded. "I'm joining too late to be eligible to vote," he said. "But I wanted to show my support."
"Thank you," Lois said, beaming. She took the card from his hand, and then solemnly offered it back to him. "Welcome to Hawthorn," she said. "Now you're truly one of us."
Clark returned his membership card to his wallet, still smiling at Lois's reaction. He finished making their coffee and took the cups to the table. "Are you still sure about doing this interview?" he asked. "It's not too late to pull out if you don't feel up to it."
Lois nodded. "I'm very sure about it."
"I'm really glad you're going to be there with me," Clark said.
She smiled. "Me, too."
"Are you going to open your letter?"
Lois picked up the envelope and opened it. She unfolded the multiple sheets, and her face fell as she read.
"Bad?" Clark enquired.
Lois shrugged. "No worse than I expected. They genuinely believe that our only chance of any form of survival is to merge with Melbourne. I can't blame them for trying to do what they think is best."
"Have you talked to Ron? Barb?"
Lois looked up with eyes so sad Clark felt their melancholy shroud his heart. "Yeah," she said. "They are both sure that the merger is our only option."
"What happens after the vote? What happens to you and them?"
"I hope our relationship is strong enough that - whatever the outcome of the vote - nothing will change for us."
"Are you worried that won't be the case?"
Lois opened her mouth, and Clark saw that she was going to say, "No." Then, her mouth closed, and she gave the slightest hint of a nod. "But I don't want to think about that," she whispered roughly. "I can't imagine life without Ron and Barb and Seb."
"Hopefully, it won't come to that," Clark said, thinking about how she had already endured the fragmentation of her birth family.
Lois folded the sheets of paper and returned them to the envelope. "Enough about that," she said briskly. "We have an interview to prepare for."
||_||
Lois slipped her hot pink armguards over her wrists and contemplated her reflection in the mirror. The suit was *so* tight. She tugged at the dual curves of material that sat across her chest, trying to achieve a little more coverage.
A soft knock sounded on the door. "Lois?"
She turned. They had arrived at Clark's parents' farm an hour ago, and he had insisted she use his bedroom to put on her suit. "Come in, Clark," she said.
The door opened, and he walked in. Not Clark, but Superman.
He was magnificent.
His suit clung to his sculpted body, emphasising every carved muscle, every breathtaking curve.
"Wow," she breathed.
"Wow, yourself," he said, his voice sounding like something had throttled his vocal cords.
Lois stared. The suit left less to the imagination than the footy gear. It made him seem taller ... broader ... maler.
"You look awesome," she said. "No photo I've seen has ever done you justice."
"You are going to be a sensation," he predicted as his eyes took a slow stroll down her body.
"Has Superman received a *lot* of female attention?" Lois asked. "Letters? Photos? Marriage proposals? Propositions?"
"Superman doesn't have an address."
"There are probably entire roomfuls of undelivered mail waiting for you somewhere."
"They are going to stay undelivered," Clark said firmly. "Because Superman is taken."
Lois crossed the small distance between them and put her hand on his chest. "Are you still worried about this interview?"
"Not so much," he said. "Though I can't guarantee that I won't pick you up and fly away at any moment."
"We've planned this," Lois said. "We've talked through every possible eventuality. We'll be there together. We can do this."
Clark smiled. "Are you ready, Ultra Woman?"
"I'm ready, Superman."
"Let's go and face the dual offensive of Drake and King."
"They have nothing on Lane and Kent."
"Nothing at all," he agreed with another glance down her body. "Nothing at all."
||_||
Mayson Drake rolled the fragment of green rock between her thumb and fingers.
She had decided - contrary to her more combative instincts - to leave it in her apartment when she interviewed Superman.
Other than the satisfaction of witnessing his shock - and possible pain - there was little to be gained from alerting him that some of the powerful rock remained on Earth.
And Linda King would be there - the wannabe hussy from the Metropolis Star who had taken opportunism to new levels. The less she knew, the better. Mayson certainly didn't want the Star speculating that not all of Trask's green rock had been in the spacecraft.
Superman wasn't going anywhere ... time was on her side.
This interview would be merely research. The more Mayson discovered about Superman, the more she could finetune her strategy.
She replaced the green rock in the gouged-out pages of a drab-looking book. She put the book in her safe, locked it, replaced the panelling across the hole in the floor of her closet, neatly arranged three pairs of shoes on top, and then closed the door.
Her time would come.
