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.
Part 46
Chris Torrens gazed out of the eighteenth floor window of the hotel room. She'd heard about the magnificence of Sydney Harbour, but actually seeing it for herself was breathtaking.
She turned away from the window and saw Lois - now wearing a woollen Hawthorn jumper - stowing her hat and scarf into her bag. Lois looked up with a grin. "Do you think it's gonna get cold?"
Chris glanced out of the window again. "The sun is still shining," she mused. "How cold does it get in Sydney at night?"
Lois shrugged. "Dunno," she said. She lifted another Hawthorn jumper from her open suitcase and shoved it into her bag. "I'll take this as insurance."
Chris took her Hawk jumper from the bed and pulled it over her head.
"Turn around," Lois said.
Chris did.
"Ahhh," Lois said. "You've got Crawf's number on your back."
Chris felt herself blush. "Yeah," she admitted. "I think he's cute." Suddenly a thought bombarded her brain, and the warmth in her face turned to blazing heat. "It's not Crawf, is it?" she gulped. "You're not with Shane Crawford?"
Lois quickly shook her head. There was a strange look on her face - not for one moment did Chris think Lois was lying ... but it was obvious she wasn't comfortable discussing this.
"Sorry," Chris said.
"Hey, it's OK," Lois said with a quick smile. "Really. You are being an incredibly good sport over this."
"But I can see you don't want to talk about it."
Lois looked genuinely regretful. "I'm sorry I can't tell you any more," she said.
"It's none of my business," Chris said lightly. She decided to change the subject. "Do you know a good place to get something to eat before the game?"
"Are you hungry?" Lois said, eagerly grasping the new subject. "Do you want a sit-down meal? Or just a snack to take to the footy?"
"I'm not hungry," Chris said. "Not after all that seafood I ate."
"We have a couple of hours," Lois said, looking at her watch again - she'd done that a lot today. "There's something I'd like to do ... something I've been thinking about ..."
"Then let's do it."
Lois hesitated, still looking unconvinced.
"Whatever we do, I've already given you my word that I won't say anything about stuff that's going on in your life," Chris said, hoping Lois would believe her.
Lois flashed a smile and seemed to reach a decision. "Remember I told you about the Wiltons - Ron and Barb, and their son, Seb?"
"Yeah."
"Well, Seb's a jeweller up here, and he has a big exhibition tonight - so I've been thinking about dropping in and wishing him good luck."
Chris wasn't sure why Lois was so hesitant about that ... unless Seb knew nothing about her relationship with the Hawthorn footballer. "Of course," Chris said. "Do you know where it is?"
"Not the exhibition. But I know where his shop is - and the exhibition doesn't start until eight-thirty, so I reckon there's a good chance he'll still be there."
"Sounds good," Chris said. Lois turned towards the door - revealing her old-style seventies Hawthorn jumper - with number five on the back. "You're wearing Crimmo's number," she said quietly.
Lois turned and nodded sombrely. "Ron and Barb gave me this jumper for my twenty-first. I had it framed and never thought I would wear it. But now ..."
"Now it says that all our history can't be snuffed out on the whim of a few administrators."
"Exactly," Lois said.
As they waited for the lift, Chris said, "I've never been to a jewellery exhibition before."
The doors opened, and they stepped in. "Me either," Lois said. "But Seb's told me about them - he's had three before. I think this is going to be the biggest of the lot."
"So, he makes jewellery ... and displays it ... and people come and buy it?"
"He designs a whole new range - this time the theme is nature, featuring the green opal from Coober Pedy. The exhibition is like a big unveiling - it's all kept under wraps beforehand. He invites a lot of really rich people to the exhibition, and they spend exorbitant amounts just so they can be the first ones wearing the latest Sebastian Stone creations."
"Sebastian Stone?" Chris exclaimed. "*The* Sebastian Stone? I've seen his work in magazines. *That* Sebastian Stone is your Seb?"
"That's him." They moved across the foyer and into the busy street. "This way," Lois said as she turned right.
Chris put her hand on Lois's arm. "Are you sure he'll want us ... me ... to intrude when he has such a big night?"
"Of course he will," Lois assured her.
Chris looked down at her Hawthorn jumper. "We're not really dressed for a big event."
Lois laughed. "Yes, we are," she said. "And anyway, Seb's a Hawk."
Chris stopped. "Lois ... I'm not sure about this."
"It's fine," Lois said. "Seb is like my brother. He already asked me to come to the exhibition."
"Maybe you could go in, and I could wait outside."
Lois put a firm hand on Chris's shoulder. "Or maybe you could come inside," she said. Grinning, she added, "Don't worry, Sebastian Stone is a bigwig jeweller, but Seb Wilton is still the kid I grew up with."
As they walked, Chris stared wide-eyed at the calibre of the shops - fashion boutiques, hairdressers, milliners, beauticians, restaurants - and all looking like they catered for those with very large budgets. "Is Seb's shop near here?" she asked, trying not to let her misgivings sound in her question.
"Not far," Lois replied. "Are you right to get back to the hotel after the game?"
"Yeah. Where do you want to meet tomorrow morning?"
"Meet for breakfast in the cafe next to the ferry terminal?" Lois suggested.
"Do you want as long as possible with ..." Chris stopped. "What time suits you?"
"It's not fair to keep you waiting."
"Why don't we make it brunch?" Chris suggested. "Ten o'clock? We have plenty of time now we're getting later flights."
"Chris," Lois said. "Thanks for this. You've been really understanding."
"No worries," Chris said easily. "Hopefully, one day I'll find the man of my dreams, and you can do the same for me."
"I hope so."
Chris smiled, but in her heart, she wasn't sure that day would ever come.
||_||
Seb Wilton gazed at the pendant design he had roughly sketched. He added a couple more strokes and scrutinised it again.
It still wasn't right. He heard a movement behind him and turned to see his shop assistant, Harry, at the door. "There's someone here to see you, Seb," he said.
Seb swallowed down his annoyance. He'd endured regular interruptions all day with media and buyers hounding him for a sneak peek or inside information about the exhibition tonight.
"I told them you were busy, but she said you'd want to see her," Harry said.
"Did she give a name?"
"Lois Lane."
Seb's irritation dissolved instantly, and he grinned. "Show her in," he said.
"She has someone with her."
"A tall bloke with dark hair and glasses?"
"No, a blonde woman."
"Send them in," Seb said.
Harry retreated, and Seb stood, feeling better than he had all day. She'd come. Without doubt, she'd come to Sydney for the footy tonight, but she'd made time to see him, and that gave Seb hope they would be able to put the whole Hawthorn merger mess behind them.
Lois stepped through the door, and without waiting to gauge her mood, he hurried forward and swept her into his arms. He hugged her tightly, hoping his embrace would communicate the jumbled expanse of his feelings. He'd missed her terribly, and he hated the distance that had sprung up between them since the night he'd gone to her unit to beg her not to fight the merger.
While still holding Lois, Seb looked up at her companion.
Their eyes met, and she smiled shyly.
And in that moment, Seb Wilton fell in love.
||_||
In Seb's hug, Lois felt the barrier between them melt away. This was Seb - Seb, who'd been her sparring partner, her kid brother, and her mate since childhood.
She felt his arms loosen and drew back from him. She looked into his face, expecting to be met smile for smile - only to discover that Seb wasn't looking at her. He was looking beyond her to Chris.
"Seb, this is Chris Torrens," Lois said. "Chris, this is Seb Wilton."
Seb smiled at Chris and extended his hand to shake hers. His eyes seemed glued to her, and he had a dumbstruck look plastered across his face.
Lois felt laughter bubble inside her as she glimpsed the possible. What if? Seb and Chris? That would be wonderful. Lois's eyes swung from one to the other. Chris was smiling, but she seemed a bit self-conscious; Seb looked like his world had just turned upside down and he had no desire to right it - ever.
No one spoke for a long moment. With a flicker of delighted amusement, Lois realised that of the three people present, it was entirely possible she was the one most capable of speech. "How's the exhibition?" she asked Seb.
For a moment, he looked as if he had to forage through his mind for an answer to her question. "Ah ... good. It's all ready."
"Are you happy with everything?" Lois said. "Do you have enough pieces? Are you expecting a good response?"
Seb actually managed to drag his eyes from Chris. "Yeah," he said. "You can never be sure about the response, but I'm confident. I've been getting some excellent black opal out of Coober Pedy."
"Black?" Lois said. "I thought it was green."
"It's green in colour," Seb explained. "Some of the purest colour I've ever seen. 'Black' refers to the body tone, or the brightness. The best opal is black; other grades are 'dark' and 'light'." His eyes slid back to Chris. She smiled at him. It was the first time Lois had seen her friend acknowledge a bloke's interest.
And Seb was *definitely* interested.
Lois chuckled. "Do you have any rough opal? We'd like to see it." She glanced at Chris. "Wouldn't we?"
"Ah, yes."
Lois hid another smile, wondering how long it would take them to notice if she simply wandered from the room. "So, Seb ... can we see it?"
He pointed to the back room and gestured for Chris to go first. "Come this way," he said.
Once there, Seb unlocked the safe and brought out a box containing rough pieces of opal. Lois gasped. "Seb," she said. "This is beautiful."
"Yeah," he said. "Very beautiful."
Lois reached into the box and took out the biggest piece. It was roughly shaped and slightly smaller than a golf ball. Holding it up against the light, she slowly rotated it and marvelled at the purity of its colour. "Seb," she said. "This is going to be a sensation. I can just imagine the beautiful pieces you've made with this stuff."
Seb took another piece from the box and held it out to Chris. She took it with a smile. "Move it around," he suggested. "And you'll see the play-of-colour."
She did so. And as Chris watched the opal, Seb watched Chris.
"How long are you staying in Sydney?" Seb asked.
"Only until tomorrow," Chris answered. Was that regret Lois heard in her tone?
Seb lovingly caressed a piece of opal. "What are you doing for breakfast?"
"The little cafe near the ferry terminal on Darling Harbour," Chris said. "Ten o'clock."
"Would you mind if I gatecrashed?"
Chris looked to Lois. Lois looked to Chris. It was Lois who spoke. "I think that's a great idea," she said. "Do you mind, Chris?"
"No," she said with a smile that said a whole lot more than her solitary word.
"Good, it's settled then," Lois said.
Seb returned all the opal to the safe and locked it. "Good luck tonight," he said. "I hope the Hawks win for us."
"I do, too," Lois said as they headed back to the shop. She hugged Seb tightly. "Good luck to you, Sebby Boy," she said. "I hope all your dreams come true."
"Thanks," he said. "And thanks for dropping in."
Lois deliberately turned away to give Seb and Chris a moment's privacy to bid each other farewell. Then she walked out of the door of Seb's shop and turned towards the train station.
Five hours and twenty-four minutes to go.
||_||
Lois and Chris arrived at the SCG and found their seats. The stadium was dominated by the red and white of Sydney, with only small patches of brown and gold dispersed among the crowd.
Lois's stomach was bunched into a ball of nerves. She didn't know if it was because of the game ... or because of what would happen after the game ... but every muscle felt as if it were twisting tighter with each passing minute.
Chris put her hand on her arm. "I guess it's tougher than being just a fan?" she said.
Lois appreciated her understanding ... but hated having to mislead her. She nodded vaguely.
Chris smiled. "It'll be OK," she said. "Think about after the game when you'll be with him again."
"Thanks," Lois muttered.
The Hawthorn theme song echoed loudly as the team ran onto the ground. Lois and Chris stood as one and cheered with gusto.
"Seb seems nice," Chris said casually as they sat down.
Lois tried to keep her smile from being too knowing. "He is."
"You're ... absolutely *not* with him? Romantically?"
Lois snorted. "No way. I love him dearly, but it would be like going out with your brother."
Chris wrinkled her nose.
"But his timing sucks," Lois said. "His exhibition has been planned for months - and it falls on exactly the night when the Hawks play in Sydney."
"Does he go to Melbourne much?"
"A couple of times a month - sometimes with business, sometimes to see his parents."
"Business? Does he have a store in Melbourne?"
"Not yet. That's the plan, though." Lois glanced up to the clock on the big screen. Four hours and fifty-four minutes to go.
When the warm-up was over, the Hawthorn team stood side by side in a line facing the Sydney team who had done likewise. The strands of the National Anthem resonated around the ground. Lois stood and sang as her heart swelled.
She'd been born an American, and her future might be in the country of her birth, but she knew that for as long as lived, wherever she lived, Advance Australia Fair would always have the power to move her.
At the end of the national anthem, the players took their positions on the field, and Lois and Chris sat down. The siren went, the umpire bounced the ball, and play began.
From the start, it was a game where Sydney constantly threatened to break away and cruise to a big win. Hawthorn held on desperately - matching their opponents in determination and intensity ... and inside Lois, the tiny spark of unlikely hope continued to flicker.
Then ... disaster struck, and Jason Dunstall went down clutching his knee. The trainers crowded around him, and it quickly became obvious that he'd sustained a serious injury.
As they watched the heartbreaking sight of their champion forward being carried from the ground, Chris turned to Lois, her face horrified. "He's not ... you're not with - no, you can't be. Piggy's married, isn't he?"
"I think Dunstall's married," Lois said noncommittally, her eyes not leaving the fallen Hawk. The hope of an implausible victory had just diminished to almost nothing.
Somehow ... Hawthorn dug deeper and battled valiantly against the odds - playing in hostile territory and with a forward line that was missing its leading goal kicker. At three quarter time, they clung to a narrow three-point lead.
But then, in the final quarter their fears turned to reality; Sydney, encouraged by the support of a noisy home crowd, snatched back the lead ... and when the siren sounded, the Hawks had lost by one solitary goal. Six measly points.
Their season was over.
Lois slumped onto her seat as disappointment coursed through her body. They had come so close, they had fought so hard, they had challenged the odds and almost ... *almost* achieved a most remarkable victory.
As the Hawthorn players trudged from the ground, Lois and Chris stood and applauded solemnly. Lois didn't care that the gleeful Sydney fans looked at them and scoffed. All she cared about was that the men in brown and gold were her team, and she was almost bursting with pride at the way they had played.
When the Hawthorn players had disappeared into the race, Lois looked at Chris.
"This can't be the end," Chris said shakily.
Lois shook her head as numbness assaulted her. "It can't. We can't let it."
Chris picked up her bag. "I'm getting out of here. There's no point in hanging around." She smiled tremulously. "You have a great time ... and whoever he is, tell him he was a hero tonight."
Lois nodded.
"See you tomorrow morning," Chris said.
"See you. And, Chris ... thanks."
They hugged briefly, and Chris walked away, her brown and gold jumper stark amongst the celebrating sea of red and white.
Lois slowly sat down and allowed her eyes to drift over the scene in front of her.
Was this the last time?
Was this the last time she would care so much about the result of a game? The last time she would experience the gut-wrenching emptiness of defeat when victory had been so tantalisingly close?
The last time she would mourn and know that the entire brown and gold family were mourning with her?
Lois felt a tear squeeze from her eye and carve a damp path down her cheek. She scrunched forward and used the bottom of her Hawk jumper to wipe away the moisture. Seizing a fistful of the soft woollen material, she lifted it to her lips, and kissed it.
With a long, quivery sigh, Lois stood.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for letting me share your journey."
She turned her back on the arena.
On eighteen years of memories.
On a football club she would love until the day she died.
And looked forward to the man she loved even more.
Half an hour later, Lois waited in the shadows of the Sydney Opera House for her groom to come and take her to their wedding.
One hour and thirty-eight minutes.
||_||
"Are you ready, my beautiful bride?"
Lois took one last glance into the mirror and adjusted her cape. Then she opened the door of Clark's childhood bedroom and smiled at the wonderful man who would soon be her husband. "I still can't believe I found someone as amazing as you," she said.
Clark took her into his arms. "And I still can't believe I found you," he replied. "I looked for you for so long, hoping against hope there would be a woman on this planet who could love me."
She smiled and rubbed the side of her thumb against the 'S' on his chest. "It's really not that hard to love you."
He scrutinised her face. "Are you OK? Not too tired? I know you must be upset about Hawthorn."
Lois sighed. "Yeah, I am. Realistically, I know that even had we won, it would be really difficult to go deep into September without Piggy, but ... the end of the season always feels horrible."
Clark nestled her against his chest, and for a few moments, Lois soaked up his comfort and support. Then she drew away, switched her mind from the past to the future, and smiled up at her man. "I can't wait to be your wife."
He kissed her. "I love you, Lois."
She smiled. "And I love you, Clark."
He pointed to the bag in the corner. "That's the bag you want me to bring once we're in the honeymoon suite?"
Lois smiled as she thought of the contents of the bag. "Yes, please," she said. She couldn't resist adding, "Look after it - there's something in there I think you'll enjoy."
He turned his attention directly to the bag, and Lois squealed and reached up to cover his eyes with her hand. "Don't cheat," she said, giggling.
Clark turned to her with his most gorgeous innocent look. "Me?" he said.
"You," she said accusingly. "*Did* you look?"
He grinned. "No," he said. "I didn't need to - pretending to was just as much fun."
Lois poked his chest - bang smack in the middle of his 'S'. "You are gonna pay for that later," she warned him.
She'd been hoping he would take the bait and ask for details, but instead, he smiled happily and said, "Let's go and say 'bye' to Mom and Dad ... and then let's get to Metropolis for our wedding."
Downstairs, they hugged Jonathan and Martha.
"I'm sorry you can't be there," Lois said.
"We will be next time," Martha said, smiling despite the tears in her eyes.
Clark carefully tied Lois's mask across her eyes. "Is that all right?" he asked.
"Yes, thanks."
"Good luck," Martha said as she hugged her son.
"I already have it," Clark replied. His gave his mom one last hug and then lifted his bride into his arms with a jubilant smile. "Let's go get married, Ultra Woman."
||_||
Mayson Drake sat next to Lex Luthor in the front row as they awaited the arrival of the bride and groom.
She was feeling exultant. She would never forget the look on Linda King's face at the first sight of Mayson on the arm of Lex Luthor. Linda had scuttled across the room with such a mix of dismay and self-importance that she looked like a two-bit actor from a cheap farce.
Luthor had dealt with her in the manner due a no-name who thought she was somebody because she'd orchestrated a sham wedding involving an alien invader and a grovelling human.
To Mayson's gratification, Linda King hadn't shown the slightest resistance as Luthor had walked past her with barely even a nod in her direction.
Mayson clutched her bag on her lap and surreptitiously drew her right elbow against the side of her chest. She felt the reassuring presence of the piece of green rock where it lay tucked into her bra between her breasts.
She'd thought for a long time about where to put the rock. Her bag was the obvious place, but she worried about the - admittedly slim - possibility of someone snatching it from her. And she wasn't sure it would actually affect Superman from inside her bag. She'd concluded that the green rock had to be kept somewhere on her person. Somewhere open, but unseen.
Eventually, she'd settled on the perfect place. She needed to keep the green rock a secret from everyone ... except Superman. Today, he would realise that some of it remained on Earth. Maybe he would even figure out who had it. That wasn't a concern - he had to know eventually ... he needed to understand the ramifications should he refuse to bow to her demands.
There was an added advantage to this particular positioning of the green rock. Superman was the only one who could see it, and should he choose to use his super-vision to look through her dress, that would give her further leverage. She would know that despite his goody-goody facade and pseudo-morality, he *did* use his powers to ogle women. And that could be very useful information to threaten to pass onto Ultra Woman.
It hadn't been easy to find a dress with exactly the right neckline. It had to be high enough to keep the rock secure and hidden, but low enough to ensure that Superman was sufficiently exposed. Mayson had set up an elaborate rigging system across the front of her bra - using several strands of elastic slung between the cups to provide a secure place for the rock.
Unable to resist, Mayson squeezed her elbow into her side again and felt the rock shift slightly against her skin.
Luthor leant over. "Are you all right?" he hissed.
"Yes."
"Then for goodness' sake, sit still," he said. "You're like a schoolgirl fidgeting with her training bra."
Perturbed - not that Luthor had noticed her breasts, but that he'd been able to pinpoint with such accuracy what she was doing - Mayson glanced down. Her disquiet turned to alarm when she saw the tip of the green rock peeking out from between her breasts.
Awkwardly - and being careful not to lean in such a way that Luthor would get any sort of a look down her front - Mayson shuffled closer to him. "Slight wardrobe malfunction," she said. "I need to visit the ladies' room."
She didn't wait long enough to dwell on his look of impatience, but stood and, trying for unhurried grace, glided across the hall to the side door that led to the ladies' room.
Once in the stall, Mayson hung her bag on the hook and removed the green rock from its hiding place. The top strip of elastic had worked itself loose. She carefully placed the rock on top of the toilet roll holder and searched through her bag for an appropriate implement to make some running repairs.
||_||
Perry White slammed down the phone with such force the pencil on his desk jumped.
"OLSEN!" he screamed.
Running footsteps told him Olsen hadn't yet left for Superman's wedding. The door opened, and Jimmy's head appeared. "Just leaving now, Chief," he said breathlessly.
"Get in here," Perry commanded. "And shut the door behind you."
Looking surprised, Jimmy entered with his camera in hand. "I got held up with -"
"I need you to get a message to Superman."
Jimmy looked at Perry as if the editor had completely lost his marbles. "Chief," he said reasonably. "I think he's occupied at the moment. His wedding is due to start in ten minutes."
"I need to talk to him."
"Chief, he doesn't even know you."
"He knows *you*. You took those photos of him and Ultra Woman after the interview."
"That doesn't mean I *know* him."
"I have to talk to him, and I have to talk to him *before* the wedding."
"Chief!" Olsen's ability to hide his exasperation was fading quickly. "I really don't think that's going to happen."
Perry's mind raced. "OK," he said decisively. "Get to the Lexor Ballroom and charge through every barrier you need to. Get to Superman, and tell him the editor of the Daily Planet is on top of the Planet building and about to jump."
Jimmy's mouth dropped about level with his chest. "Ch...Chief," he stammered. "I know we didn't get to cover Superman's wedding, but, really, things aren't that bad. We can -"
"Get to the wedding and tell Superman to meet me at the top of the building," Perry bellowed. "And if I hear one more objection, Olsen, you'll never work for another paper in the United States for as long as I live."
Jimmy turned and shot through the door.
Perry picked up the pencil, jotted down an address, and then sketched a hasty map. He thrust the paper into his pocket and headed for the stairs to the top of the building.
||_||
Clark landed outside the Lexor Ballroom and slid Lois to her feet. Beyond the heavily guarded barriers, the crowd pressed forward, calling and waving. Many were holding up signs with good wishes for the happy couple.
He took her hand and stood there, smiling stiffly. They waited, allowing people to take photographs and acknowledging the cries of congratulations.
Clark saw Lois raise her other hand and brush across her eye. He didn't feel too far from tears himself. This was the beginning of the life of his dreams.
There was a commotion towards the back of the crowd, and Clark's attention spun in that direction. He looked through the gathered people and saw Jimmy Olsen with three guards hanging off him.
"Superman!" Jimmy screamed. The kid actually managed to make a few steps of progress despite the efforts of three burly security guards. "Superman!" he shouted desperately. "I need to talk to you."
Clark hesitated, torn between lifting Lois and taking her the thirty feet to where Jimmy was, or leaving her at the entrance. He leant over to her - she was still wiping her eye - and whispered in her ear. "I'll only be a moment," he said. "Stay here, honey."
Clark flew to Jimmy and the security guards. He hovered above them, crossed his arms, and looked down. "What is it?" he asked sternly.
Jimmy looked up. "Perry White ... the editor of the Daily Planet newspaper is on the top of the Planet building. He says he's gonna jump."
Clark hoped he managed to smother his shock before it reached his face. He nodded to Jimmy and then addressed the security guards. "Let him go, please," he said.
They didn't loosen their hold.
"He had a message for me," Clark said. "Now he's delivered the message, he won't cause any further problems."
The security guards let go of Jimmy.
"Go back to your office," Clark directed.
Jimmy hurried away, and Clark turned back to the entrance of the Lexor Ballroom.
