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"Lex Luthor took me to the Metropolis Grand Ball," Mayson said. She swooned a little. "I have *never* had such a wonderful time."

Clark's eyes actually left his computer screen, and he seemed to digest what she had said.

Mayson waited - this was it. Clark was going to show some sign of resentment at her having been with Luthor.

"I'm really happy for you, Mayson," he said with Clark-Kent-patented sincerity. "I hope it works out for you and Mr Luthor."

With a tight smile, Mayson returned to her desk.

Yup, the thing with Luthor had to go. She would use him as her ticket to get to Superman's wedding, but, after that, she would no longer answer any calls from that self-important Mrs Cox.

Mayson smiled triumphantly. Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

She'd finally have absolute proof of the power of the green rock over Superman, she'd cause disruption to his wedding, she'd inflict major humiliation on Linda King, and, in the process, she'd disentangle herself from Luthor.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.


Part 45

Clark absently logged onto his computer, his mind still pondering the meeting with Bobby Bigmouth.

The Boss - the truth is right in front of you.

What could *that* mean?

Last week, Mayson had reported on the death of an inmate in the Metropolis Prison. Security cameras had captured the incident, and the perpetrator - a fellow prisoner - had been charged. It had seemed straightforward - two angry men had become embroiled in a fight, and it had gotten fatally out of hand.

But - according to Bobby Bigmouth - the victim, on his deathbed, had mumbled, "The truth is right in front of you." When asked by a prison nurse to repeat it, he'd said, "The Boss - the truth is ..." and had then passed away.

The nurse had disappeared - believed, again according to Bobby, to be in the witness protection program.

The police seemed to be taking it seriously. Why wouldn't they? Miniscule though it was, this represented the most information they had ever received about the mysterious Boss - who, if the rumours were true, completely controlled eighty percent of the crime in Metropolis.

They had talked with the murderer, and he had claimed the fight was over a stolen packet of cigarettes.

Clark rose from his desk and went to Perry's office. The editor looked up with a smile. "Welcome home, Clark," he said. "How was your trip?"

All thoughts of the Boss were swept from Clark's mind as it filled with sweet memories of Lois. He smiled. "It was wonderful," he said.

"Was it good to see Lois again?"

Clark sighed happily. "It was great. We had a fantastic time."

Perry smiled. "I hope I get to meet her one day."

"So do I."

"What's been happening?" Perry asked. "What are you chasing up? Any further developments on the murder of that English guy?"

"No, nothing," Clark said. "The police have hit a complete blank."

Perry tapped his pen on his desk. "Next weekend is Superman's wedding."

"Yeah."

"I had intended to leave it alone completely and not give the Star the satisfaction of having us chase their tails." Perry tossed his pen onto his desk. "But Superman has become such a universal identity that to not mention his wedding would seem either petty or out of step with community feeling. What do you think?"

"Ah ... I haven't really given much thought to the Daily Planet's involvement in Superman's wedding."

"If you weren't going to Smallville to see your folks, I'd ask you to cover it."

"I doubt the Star will allow reporters from any other paper to attend the wedding."

"Of course not, but they can't stop us having someone outside, talking to the public and monitoring their reactions." Perry sighed. "I think it's going to be too big to ignore. The Daily Planet has been the voice of Metropolis for too many years for us to remain silent on this."

Alarms bells started clanging in Clark's head. "Who are you thinking you'll get to cover it?" He forced himself to add, "Mayson?"

"No, she has already asked for that day off."

Clark breathed a sigh of relief. "Eduardo?"

"Probably. And I'll send Olsen. Maybe he'll be able to get a few shots of the happy couple as they leave the Lexor Ballroom." Perry looked expectantly at Clark. "Anything else you've been chasing that might become a story?"

"I met with Bobby Bigmouth on the way from the airport. He told me something about the Boss."

Perry's interest was immediate. "Really?"

"Yeah - it seems the prisoner who was bashed to death last week left a message ..."

||_||

"How has Mayson been?" Lois asked. "Has she said anything about your non-appearance in your own bed?"

Clark tried to extract his mind from dwelling on the exhilarating memories of the kisses he had shared with Lois just a few moments ago. "Ah ... sorry ..." He stopped because she was grinning at him, and he knew she knew exactly why his brain was still fuzzy.

"Has Mayson said anything about being stranded - alone - in your bed?"

Lois's calm reaction to another woman having been in his bed still had the power to surprise Clark. "She hasn't mentioned it. I figure she thinks I didn't come home, so therefore I don't know about it."

They were sitting together on Lois's couch - very closely together, which, as Lois had said with a wide grin, was due solely to the necessity of having to speak softly so Esmeralda didn't hear. They had already taken the precaution of turning on the radio in Lois's bedroom - which butted onto Esmeralda's unit - and closing the bedroom door.

"It would be pretty embarrassing," Lois said - though her chuckle strongly suggested she didn't feel any great sympathy for the other woman's humiliation. "To make such a blatant attempt to seduce a man - only to have him simply not appear."

"Uhmm," Clark said. "Although ..."

"Although what?"

"She's been going out with Lex Luthor." He'd expected that that piece of information would please Lois, so he was surprised when her mouth dropped with horror. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Luthor is coming to our wedding, right?"

"Uhmmmmm," Clark said, trying to guess where this was going.

"And he gets to bring a partner?"

Uh oh. "You think he'll bring *Mayson*?" Clark exclaimed.

Lois nodded. "Mayson would love to be there - not that I imagine she has any specific interest in us, but it would be a telling victory over Linda King and the Metropolis Star."

A shadow of foreboding fell across Clark's heart, and he groaned. "Mayson has already asked for Saturday off."

"Has she said what she'll be doing?"

Despairingly, Clark shook his head. *Mayson* at his wedding? She wouldn't know it was Clark getting married, but he didn't trust her not to do something that would disrupt the event ... and that would mean Lois's short, barely-there wedding could turn into worse than a media circus - it could easily degenerate into a catfight. "Oh, no," he said.

Lois's hand was immediately on his face, soft with reassurance. "It's OK, big guy," she said, her eyes warm and loving as they met his. "If anything goes wrong, you simply pick me up and we fly away."

"But Lois ... this ... this could turn into a debacle."

"How?"

"If there's a scene ... security guards trying to remove Mayson ... I doubt Luthor will take it too well if his invited guest is forcibly removed, and -"

"Does Luthor have something against the Star? Is there a reason he would do this? Or is he just too dumb to realise the implications of turning up with Mayson?"

"I heard something ... it was before my time ... I think the Star wrote a series of editorials about businessmen raising their profiles through public grants to charities. It was quite damning, I think ... but it was years ago. I doubt it would still be a factor in anything Luthor does."

"You think he's the sort of person to forgive and forget?"

Clark thought about that. "Well ... no," he admitted.

"So we should assume Mayson Drake will be at our wedding."

Clark groaned again. The wedding was four days away - and all he wanted was for it to go smoothly and be as close to Lois's dreams as possible.

"It's OK," Lois said. "You told me that the police will have extra numbers -"

"But that's in case anyone thinks it's a good idea to take advantage of Superman being otherwise occupied. That's not about dealing with a troublesome guest at the wedding."

"Linda told you she's organised a huge number of security guards for the wedding. She thinks this is her triumph - she won't leave any stone unturned in ensuring it runs smoothly."

"What happens if -"

"We'll deal with it," Lois said serenely. "Now, tell me about a story you're working on."

With some difficulty, Clark pushed aside his concerns about the wedding. "It's not a story exactly," he said. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. One of my sources told me that the murder of a prisoner last week could be somehow linked with the Boss."

"Who's the Boss?"

"The Boss could be the brains behind much of the crime in Metropolis."

"What did your source say?"

"That just before the prisoner died, he said that the truth about the Boss is right in front of us."

"Did you question the guy who killed him?"

"The police did, but he is adamant it was simply a fight that went too far."

"Have you checked -" A knock on the door cut across Lois's question. Her eyes shot to Clark. "Esmeralda!" she hissed. "She *couldn't* have heard you, surely." She sprang from his lap. "Go into the bedroom, and I'll get rid of her."

Clark flew into Lois's bedroom, hating that he had to leave her to deal with the nosy neighbour alone.

||_||

As the bedroom door quietly shut, Lois scrutinised her unit for any signs of Clark's presence. No clothes, no jacket, no shoes. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.

Lois straightened her clothes and hair, hoping she didn't look too much like she'd recently indulged in a steamy necking session, and stepped to the door.

She opened it - but it wasn't Esmeralda who stared back.

It was Chris.

"Chris," Lois said, fumbling around her mind for words. "Chris ... ah ... this is a surprise."

Chris's smile died. "I'm sorry, Lois," she said. "I guess I should have rung first to see if it was convenient to visit."

"No!" Lois took a calming breath and forced a smile. "No," she repeated. "It's OK. I just wasn't expecting anyone." Despite her reservations, Lois stepped back. "Come in," she invited.

Chris hesitated.

"Come in," Lois said again.

Chris walked in and surveyed Lois's home. "Nice place," she said.

"Thanks. It's small, but very convenient." Lois gestured to the kitchen. "Would you like coffee?"

The question was barely out of her mouth when Lois saw two empty cups sitting on the drainer like a public announcement that two people had shared coffee. Lois jolted her head back to Chris.

"No, thanks," Chris said. "I won't hold you up - I just wanted to ask you something, and with you not being in the office ..."

Was it possible she hadn't noticed the cups? "It's OK," Lois said, scrambling through the quagmire with a manufactured smile. "Really. I was just thrown for a minute because I was expecting it to be my neighbour."

"Oh."

"When it was you at the door, it was a surprise." Lois grinned. "A very pleasant surprise."

Chris smiled and, for the first time since Lois had opened the door, she seemed to relax. "Are you going to Sydney for the game this weekend?"

"Yes," Lois said. "Are you?"

"Yes," Chris replied. "I am." She took a deep breath and rushed on. "Actually, I came to ask if you'd like to go with me. My shout. It was my birthday a few days ago, and my uncle - my mother's brother - sent me two plane tickets to Sydney for Saturday morning, and a hotel reservation right on Darling Harbour, and two reserved seats for the game."

Lois's mind worked feverishly to try to incorporate all of that information into her plans. "Darling Harbour? That's a prime position," she said, buying herself some time. "And he sent two tickets?"

Chris nodded. "He reckoned it wouldn't be much fun by myself." She smiled hesitantly. "Would you like to come with me?"

Lois knew her indecision was scrawled across her face.

"It's OK," Chris said, trying - unsuccessfully - to hide her disappointment. "It's such late notice, and I'm sure you've already made plans."

Actually, Lois hadn't. She'd been discussing them with Clark when, suddenly, kissing him had seemed a far superior option and ... "I haven't," Lois said hesitantly. "I'd love to come with you ..."

"But?"

"But ..."

Chris's eyes swung to the kitchen and rested on the two coffee cups. She surveyed the living area, and then her eyes darted to Lois's bedroom door. Her mouth formed a circle, but no sound emerged.

Lois's heart thumped, sure Chris had realised that they weren't alone.

Neither woman said anything for a long moment.

"I think I understand," Chris said slowly.

"You do?" Lois squeaked.

"The bloke you're with ... the one where it's complicated ... he's someone you can't be with openly, isn't he?"

Lois nodded slightly, not daring to breathe.

"Is he married?"

"No." Not yet, anyway.

Suddenly, Chris grinned, and some of the tension oozed from the room. "He's a footballer, isn't he?" she guessed. She lifted her hand as Lois opened her mouth. "Don't say anything," Chris said. "I don't need to know anything." She grinned. "Except for one thing - does he play for another club?"

Lois's heart was thumping dire warnings, but she felt trapped. "No," she said, although the word was almost lost in a gulp.

Chris grinned wider. "I couldn't do that, either," she said. Her eyes swung to the bedroom door again. "So, you and a Hawthorn player? Makes sense - and I can totally see how that would be complicated. There would be nothing worse than having your relationship plastered all over the social pages before you'd even got it established for yourselves." She stepped forward. "Don't worry, Lois," she said earnestly. "I won't tell anyone." She grinned mischievously. "I'm not even going to try to work out the identity of whoever it is you have hidden behind that door."

"Thanks," Lois mumbled.

"About this weekend," Chris said. "Would you come? Please? We could do something fun in the afternoon. I'm sure ..." She nodded towards the bedroom door. "...*he'll* be occupied with team stuff leading up to the game. Then, we could watch the game together. Afterwards, all you have to do is say the word, and I'll make myself scarce. I could try to get another room for you at the hotel - mine's a twin. Or ..." She grinned. "I could promise not to notice that your bed wasn't slept in."

Lois's mind was scrambling like a cat on ice. "I ... Could I let you know?"

"Sure," Chris said. "Talk it over with you-know-who and -"

"I'll come," Lois said impulsively.

Chris grinned excitedly. "You will? That's great, Lois. Would you like me to try to book another room at the hotel? So you can have some privacy? Or do you have other plans?"

"Ah ... "

"If you are going to be somewhere else, maybe it would be better if we didn't get a second room," Chris said. "Then, if anyone asks your whereabouts, you'll have an alibi."

"You'd do that?"

Chris shrugged. "If that's what was needed, sure."

"I couldn't ask you to lie."

"I doubt I'll have to," Chris said airily. "I'll go back to our hotel room after the game, and if anyone is remotely interested - and I don't think they will be - they'll assume you came back with me."

"You think so?"

Chris put her hand on Lois's arm. "You look worried," she said. "Please don't be. I promise you I won't say anything about this to anyone."

"Thanks," Lois said. "It's a nice present from your uncle."

"Yeah. He's not a Hawthorn man, but he loved my mum, and he knows how much we both loved the Hawks."

Looking at Chris's wide smile, Lois realised that sharing Saturday afternoon with her was probably going to be the perfect way to pass the hours leading to her wedding. She couldn't be with Clark - there would be Hawthorn supporters all over Sydney on game day. Lois smiled - this time genuinely. "This is going to be fun," she said.

"You bet," Chris said. She walked to the door. "I'll leave you to it."

"Thanks, Chris."

"The flight leaves at eleven Saturday morning. Do you want to drive to the airport? Or share a taxi?"

"I'll drive."

"Cool."

"I'll pick you up about nine-thirty."

Chris stepped out of the door. "See you Saturday, Lois."

"Bye."

Lois closed the door and leant against it, her heart still hurtling chaotically.

The bedroom door opened, and Clark emerged, looking abashed.

Lois chuckled at his expression. "I suppose you heard all of that?"

He nodded.

"Chris thinks you're a Hawthorn footballer."

He nodded again.

"But me disappearing on Saturday night isn't a problem anymore."

Clark crossed to her and took her into his arms. "Are you OK with this?" he asked softly.

"I didn't lie to Chris, but I don't like that she thinks something that isn't true."

"I know," Clark said with a heartfelt sigh. "I've done exactly that a thousand times before."

"And if she talks with Gazza ... or anyone who knows about us ..."

Clark caressed his fingers across her cheek. "She promised she wouldn't say anything," he reminded her.

They were silent for a time as Lois replayed the conversation with Chris in her mind, searching for anything that could develop into a future hazard.

"Before Chris came, we were talking about our wedding," Clark said. "And Mayson being there."

"Even if she's there, she won't be a problem," Lois said. "I'm sure the Star will have plenty of security guards."

"What if the trouble starts before ... before the vows? What if there's a scene right at the start?"

Her hand rested lovingly on his cheek. "You can lift me into your arms, and we'll say our vows five metres in the air above Metropolis," she said. "And then we'll fly away and have a humdinger of a honeymoon."

Clark grinned and relaxed under her touch.

Lois took his face in both of her hands and looked straight into his eyes. "I love you, Clark Kent," she said. "And I'm going to marry you on Saturday ... and *nothing* is going to stop me."

"I can't wait," Clark said.

"Then kiss me, big guy," she said. "And give me a taste of what to expect on Saturday."

||_||

Lois stared at Browny. "You what?" she said.

"I want you to do the Friday night final," he repeated.

"Me?"

"You and Spencer."

Lois felt her grin slide all over her face. "You're sending two sheilas to cover a Friday night final?"

He glared, and Lois smothered her grin and nodded sombrely. "And I want you to do the reviews for the three Melbourne clubs who play on Friday and Saturday," Browny instructed.

"You don't want me to cover Sunday's game?" Lois asked, as hope flashed across her mind.

"Did I say I wanted you to cover Sunday's game?" he demanded.

"No."

Her editor shot her a look that said his supply of patience was critically low. Lois stalled ... wanting to voice another request, but not sure she dared.

"What is it?" Browny barked.

"I'm going to Sydney with Chris. If she wasn't doing the Sunday game either, we could catch a later flight home."

"What is this?" Browny demanded. "A footy department or the travel pages?"

Lois knew better than to offer a reply, so she simply waited.

"OK," Browny snapped. He pointed at her. "But I expect Friday night's report to be top-notch, and if Sunday's stories are half a second late, you'll both regret ever stepping foot in the harbour city.

Lois nodded. "Good luck to Carlton on Saturday," she said.

"Huhhh," he said.

Lois left Browny's office - and it took great effort not to prance across the newsroom.

She now had most of Sunday morning free before needing to return to Melbourne.

She could sleep ... with Clark.

Or sleep with him.

Lois caught Bluey looking at her, and she beamed at him. "Hi, Bluey," she said.

He stared quizzically at her. "Are you all right, Flinders?"

"I've never been better," she replied.

||_||

"This is so beautiful," Lois called.

Chris Torrens grinned and shook her head to release the wind-blown strands of blonde hair from her face. "I've heard great things about Sydney Harbour," she said. "But it's even better than I expected."

The sun was shining brightly, the air was cool, the breeze skipped across the ocean ... and, inside, Lois was a bubbly mass of excitement. She glanced at her watch. Ten hours and thirty-seven minutes until her wedding.

Meanwhile, she was on the Manly ferry being whisked across Sydney Harbour to the northern shores.

With her was Chris - whose excitement at being in Sydney was infectious. Chris - who had not once alluded to the man who had been hiding in Lois's bedroom during the unexpected visit.

She hadn't asked any questions.

She didn't seem to resent Lois's unwillingness to share her secret.

Lois had no regrets about accepting Chris's offer to come to Sydney together. She was such good company - uncomplicated, fun, enthusiastic. When Lois had suggested they take the ferry to Manly, Chris had eagerly agreed.

The water became choppier as they crossed the harbour opening. Lois stared out to the open ocean, looking east and thinking of the man waiting for her on the other side of the Pacific.

"Is this your first time in Sydney?" Chris asked.

"I've been here twice before," Lois replied. "I came for the first ever game in Sydney - Hawthorn versus North in 1979."

"We won that, didn't we?"

"Yeah, by fifty-one points."

"You must have been young. Did you come with your parents?"

"No. Not really. I came with Ron and Barb and Seb."

"Who are Ron and Barb and Seb?" Chris asked, looking at the northern arm of land that rose from the ocean.

"My adopted family," she said.

Chris's head swung around. "You're adopted?" she said.

"Not officially. I'm American."

Chris chortled. "Sorry," she said as she reined in her humour. "That just sounded funny - as if Americans can't be adopted."

Lois grinned. "I meant that, even before my father went back to the States, I sort of attached myself to Ron and Barb Wilton and their son, Seb. Then, when Dad left Melbourne, I moved in with them."

"Ron Wilton? Isn't he a trainer at Hawthorn?"

"That's him," Lois said.

"How often do you see your family in the States?" Chris asked.

"I usually go back once a year."

"You were born there?"

"Yeah - Detroit, Michigan."

"Is it still home?"

Three months ago, Lois would have replied without hesitation that Melbourne was her home and always would be. Now ... she wasn't sure.

Chris smiled. "It can be hard, can't it? I know my mum missed Melbourne after she moved to Adelaide to marry my dad. She made a completely new life - new friends, a husband who loved her, four kids, everything - yet she still thought of Melbourne as 'home'."

Lois nodded. Was it possible to have two homes?

The ferry glided gently in to moor at Manly, and the passengers filed into the terminal. As Lois tried to straighten her dishevelled hair, she noticed that Chris, even with her hair askew, still attracted a lot of appreciative looks from men.

They left the ferry terminal and walked across the narrow isthmus to the open ocean. Once there, they stood for a moment and watched the waves roll against the beach. Two young surfers walked by carrying their boards. One whistled appreciatively, and the other winked.

Chris didn't respond.

"I think that was directed at you," Lois said when the surfies were out of earshot.

Chris giggled. "Unless they like brunettes." She turned from the ocean to the row of beachside cafes and shops. "Lunch?" she said. "I'm starving."

"Which one?"

Chris pointed to her left. "The fish place? Do you like seafood?"

"Love it," Lois said.

Ten minutes later, they were seated at an outside table, awaiting their drinks.

"I noticed you ordered soft drink," Lois said.

Chris nodded. "I don't drink. Not alcohol."

"Does it bother you that I ordered a glass of wine?"

"Not at all," Chris said. "But I haven't had a drink for over two years ... not since my mum was killed."

"Is there any reason why?" Lois asked quietly.

"It was a drunk driver who ran into Mum," Chris said. "He killed himself, killed my mum, and completely wiped out both cars."

"Aw, Chris, I'm sorry," Lois said.

"I know it makes no difference, and I certainly know it won't bring Mum back, but I decided not to drink after that." She smiled self-consciously. "I know it's not logical."

"It doesn't have to be logical," Lois said softly. "You do whatever makes it easiest for you."

"Thanks."

From inside Lois's bag came the sound of an incoming message on her mobile.

"Get it," Chris said with a grin. "It could be ... important."

Lois slipped out her phone and opened the message.

'Can time go ANY slower? I'm in danger of pacing my way through the wall and into the apartment next door. How's Sydney? SOH tonight, 11pm. Can't wait. I love you.'

Lois smiled and looked up to Chris who was watching her. "Don't say a word," Chris said. "I can tell who it's from by the dreamy look in your eyes. Is he nervous?"

"Ah ... yes."

Chris grinned. "Reply. Tell him you love him, and you are eagerly looking forward to seeing him after the game."

Lois punched in a text for Clark.

'Syd great. I love you and can't wait to see you.' Smothering her giggle, she added, 'Sleep while you can, big guy! You're gonna need all your energy later!'

She sent the message and slipped the mobile into her bag. She looked back at Chris, trying to look nonchalant.

"I guess the future is really uncertain for you right now?" Chris said.

Lois nodded.

"If the merger goes ahead, not every Hawthorn player will be taken by the Melbourne Hawks. Some will have to look for other teams."

"Yeah."

"So next year ... could be anywhere?"

"Yeah."

"If he has to leave Melbourne, will you follow him?"

"That is the sixty-four thousand dollar question," Lois said grimly.

The waiter arrived with their drinks and took their orders. He was young, probably still in his late teens, but his youthfulness didn't stop him noticing Chris. When he'd gone, Lois leant across the table. "What's it like being so beautiful?" she asked.

Chris looked taken aback for a moment. "It's definitely not all it's cracked up to be," she said.

"Oh, come on," Lois said. "Every bloke we see can't keep his eyes off you. You must know you could have the pick of just about anyone."

Chris sighed. "I'd give it all up for just one bloke who loved me for who I am," she said wistfully. "That's all I want from a man. Someone who can make me look so happy with a simple text. You're incredibly lucky."

Lois nodded. "Yes," she said. "I am."

She looked at her watch.

Nine hours and forty-eight minutes to go.

||_||

SOH - Sydney Opera House

Map showing route of Manly ferry (the one heading north)

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Manly beach with Sydney Harbour in the background

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