PREVIOUSLY IN THE TIME TRAVELER’S WIFE...
Instead, his eyes were focused on the door to the building. Running up the front steps. Pushing through the doors. How fast was he moving? He really couldn’t have said. But he didn’t stop on the first floor. Instead, he was in the stairway almost immediately, taking the steps two at a time as he bounded up the stairs and onto Lois’ floor.
He’d changed the future. What if as a result of that, Lois had been killed in 1987? Had his decision to come into the past resulted in Lois dying six years earlier than she would have otherwise?
Oh, god. Not his problem. When he’d heard sirens so close to the university, how could he have ever thought it was not his problem?AND NOW...
Pulling open the door, Clark rushed into the hallway on Lois’ floor.
“Hey, buddy,” an officer said, stepping out in front of him, a hand coming to rest on his chest, “where do you think you’re going?”
“Let him through,” Henderson said, spotting Clark.
“Where is she?” Clark demanded, not bothering with the formalities, not caring that Henderson was getting a good look at him, not caring about anything, in fact, except Lois.
“She’s...”
Clark didn’t bother to wait for the rest of whatever Henderson might say. Instead, he was through the doorway to Lois’ room.
Suddenly, his footsteps faltered.
The room was empty. She wasn’t there. His eyes found themselves riveted to the bloodstain soaking the large throw rug on the floor. He heard the door close behind him - Henderson must have decided to give him some privacy - and sank to the floor next to the rug.
“Lois,” he breathed, his hand hovering slightly above the fresh stains. He should have known. He should have been here. Not his problem? What a joke. It had most definitely been his problem... and he’d failed her.
“Yes?”
His head snapped up in shock. It took him a moment to realize that what he was seeing was not an apparition, but a real, flesh and blood version of the woman he loved. Without further thought, he was on his feet and she was lost in his arms. He whispered her name over and over, planting kisses on her hair, cheeks, face, neck, bare upper arms...
Suddenly, the whole picture of what he had seen when he’d first looked up filtered its way into his mind.
Lois Lane... wearing nothing but a towel.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois wasn’t sure what shocked her more, being lost in Charlie’s arms while he planted kisses on every piece of bare skin he could find or Charlie suddenly releasing her to back a couple steps away from her.
“I thought...” He gestured to the rug.
“Oh, that,” she said with a grimace. “Guess there’s no way to get the blood out of that, is there?”
A quick knock on the door was followed by Henderson poking his head inside. “Sorry,” he said when he, too, took in what she was wearing. “I thought we were finished, but...” He gestured to the rug. “Guess we should hold onto that, too.”
“It’s all yours,” Lois said with feeling.
Henderson came into the room and, keeping his eyes firmly focused on his task, rolled up the rug and carried it out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Another knock on the door and Lois rolled her eyes, stepping past Charlie to open it a crack.
Linda.
Just what she didn’t need right now.
“Lois, what’s going...”
Lois closed and locked the door, ignoring Linda’s muttered protests, before turning back towards Charlie.
He looked as if he were in shock, not quite registering what was happening around him.
“I thought...” He managed to get out before his mouth seemed unable to continue, as if to voice what he had thought would somehow make it so.
All of a sudden, it sunk in what he had thought. She took a slow, cautious step towards him, feeling much as if she were trying to approach a reticent horse.
“Shhhh,” she whispered, bringing her hand up slowly. “It’s okay,” she whispered again, her hand gently coming to rest against his cheek.
“I thought...” he repeated.
“I know,” she whispered, tenderly stroking his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“But... how...”
“Bob apparently escaped from the police station,” she began, keeping her voice soft and even. “Paul got him to admit to everything. And then there was some sort of skirmish and...” She shrugged. “Anyway, he must have come directly here, because he was in my room when I came in.”
“What?”
“I had just called Molly,” she quickly continued before he could launch into some sort of self-recriminations for not coming in with her. “He told me to hang up the phone. Molly had already answered so she realized what was going on and called the police. Apparently, they were already on their way.”
“Did... Did he hurt you?” he asked, gesturing to her state of undress.
She glanced down at the towel. “No. I just ended up with so much of his blood on me that... Maybe I should just tell you what happened.” She took a deep breath, knowing this next part was going to bother him and trying to think of how to tell him without having him panic.
“He had a gun. I knew that he planned to... hurt me... before he killed me.” She chose that one word carefully, more for his sake than her own. “By his attitude, I realized cooperation wouldn’t save my life. That meant my only option was to fight.” She let out a slow breath, trying not to relive that moment. “And I knew I was only going to get one chance. So I waited until he began walking towards me. When he stepped on the rug, I bent down and pulled with all my might. He went flying. The gun fired...”
“What?”
“It was nowhere near me,” Lois rushed to add. “When he came down, he hit his head against the corner of my desk. I rushed over and grabbed the gun, but by the time I got it and turned around, I realized he was out cold. I was tying him up when Henderson arrived. So... I’m fine.” She gave him a smile. “Lois Lane one. Bob Stafford zero.”
He didn’t smile back like she had hoped he would so she continued. “I never realized how much head wounds bleed. I ended up getting blood all over me while I was tying him up. So once Henderson finished up and I called Molly to let her know everything was all right, I went into the bathroom and had a shower. Then I came back out here and... you know the rest.”
He finally seemed to be breathing again. If she hadn’t known it was impossible, she’d have sworn he’d stopped when she was telling her story.
“So you’re really okay?” he asked again.
“I’m really okay,” she said, taking a step back and turning a full circle so that he could see for himself that nothing was missing.
“Okay. Good,” Charlie said. “I’m... glad. Well then. Okay. Well... you’re probably tired so...”
“Charlie?” she said, stopping his retreat from where he was inching his way towards the door.
“Yeah?”
She hesitated for a moment, trying to work up her nerve. She could hear the blood suddenly pounding in her ears. Her breathing was coming hard and heavy.
“Stay with me?” she asked, her hand coming up to where the towel was joined.
A moment later, the towel had come to rest in a puddle around her feet.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark wasn’t entirely certain his brain hadn’t shut down from lack of oxygen. ‘Stay with me.’ That single phrase kept repeating itself in his head.
She made it sound so easy. ‘Stay with me.’ Did she mean for tonight? Tomorrow? Or was her request much more permanent.
‘Stay with me.’
If only he could. But he didn’t belong here. He had to go back to the future. It was the responsible thing to do.
‘Stay with me.’
And suddenly, he knew that was exactly what he was going to do. Not just for an hour or a week or a year. He had no way to get back to the future anyway. And he wasn’t entirely sure he would go back even if he could. Back to a life that was no life.
This was where he belonged, with her, in her arms. A place that existed, not in black and white and maybe shades of gray, but a place bursting with color and possibilities.
Her expression changed, followed by a movement of her hands, as if she suddenly wondering about the wisdom of her impulsive move. He was taking too long.
“Yes,” he said, stepping towards her. “Yes,” he repeated, wrapping her in his arms as his mouth landed on hers.
A small sound seeped from the back of her throat and then her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him with the same abandon he was showing her. His arm slipped under her legs. He picked her up in his arms as the kiss continued. In only two steps, he was placing a knee on her bed to gently place her on the surface.
He pulled back far enough to meet her eyes, silently assuring himself that this was really what she wanted. She reached for him and, without further thought, he surrendered all that he was and all that he would ever be to the woman he loved.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand so that she could better observe the man sleeping beside her. A tender expression settled on her face as she watched him, tracing every line and shadow that was him with her eyes. The light seeping through the window cast his features in an exotic contrast of light and dark, giving him a mysterious quality. Sort of like the man himself.
She couldn’t help the small giggle that erupted from the back of her throat as her mind flashed back. She’d always wondered what it would be like when she finally took that step into intimacy with a man, but never could she have imagined anything like that. She wasn’t sure he even realized it, but at one point, she was pretty sure they’d actually been floating.
Well, she supposed that answered the question of whether he was using some sort future technology to accomplish the flying thing because, at that moment, he hadn’t had very many places to hide high tech gadgets.
She buried her head in her pillow to muffle the laughter that rippled through her body. When she finally got control of herself, she looked back at Charlie - hoping he was still asleep or if not, that he hadn’t heard her laughter and misunderstood it. But he was still sound asleep. The steady rise and fall of his gorgeous chest was proof enough of that.
“Mmm...mmm...mmm,” she murmured as she allowed her eyes to wander over that absolutely perfect chest.
Her breathing had deepened when she finally pulled her eyes away. Well, if she didn’t stop that soon, she was going to be waking him up to do it all over again. And he obviously needed his sleep.
Besides, she had a story to write. Slipping quietly out of bed, she spotted Charlie’s well-washed, faded University of Kansas t-shirt on the floor. Grabbing it, she slipped it over her head, satisfied with the result when it came down to her mid-thigh.
She turned on the small desk lamp and then glanced back at Charlie, relaxing when she saw that he was still asleep. Sitting down at her desk, she took one longing look at her typewriter before pulling out a pad of paper. This story would be written in long hand. No need to risk disturbing him with the sound of the typewriter. Turning her attention to her story, she began to write.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark woke to the sound of the phone ringing once. Sounds of a scramble and a muttered curse were followed by a whispered ‘Hello.’
“Oh, hi, Molly,” Lois whispered.
Without consciously deciding to do it, Clark’s ears automatically focused in to hear both sides of the conversation.
“I just called to find out how you were this morning - you know, after last night’s excitement,” Molly said.
“Last night’s excitement?”
“You know... Bob trying to kill you.”
“Oh right. That.”
“What did you think I was talking about?”
“Nothing.”
There was a brief pause. “Why are you whispering?” Molly asked, suddenly sounding suspicious.
“Whispering? I’m not whispering,” Lois whispered.
“Yes, you are. He’s there, isn’t he? He’s asleep and you’re trying not to wake him.”
“Who?” Lois was trying to sound innocent, but Clark couldn’t help but smile at how badly she was failing.
“You know exactly who. Charlie, that’s who.”
Lois sighed. “Okay, so maybe he is here.”
“Oh, so let me guess... It isn’t quite what it looks like.”
No response.
“Lois?”
No response.
“Oh my god, it’s exactly what it looks like, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lois said.
Molly’s resulting squeal had Clark flinching slightly. Obviously, Molly hadn’t believed her.
“So... how was it?” Molly finally asked.
“Molly... I don’t... I just...”
“Oh, girl,” Molly interrupted with a laugh. “You really are the worst liar. Okay, I won’t probe. But... you really do have it bad for this guy, don’t you?”
“I really do,” Lois said, a smile in her voice. “I really, really do.”
“Okay, well... I’ll let you get back to it...”
“Molly, he’s asleep. We’re not...”
“Better not keep him waiting then,” Molly interrupted with a laugh.
“Bye, Molly,” Lois said, chuckling softly at her friend’s antics as she hung up the phone.
For a moment, she was silent, although he had the impression she was watching him.
“Okay, faker,” she said, her tone amused. “You can open your eyes now. I know you’re awake.”
“Absolutely not,” he responded without opening his eyes. “I’m asleep. There’s only one way to wake me up.”
“And how’s that?”
“Ever heard of Sleeping Beauty?”
He could hear her rise to her feet and begin walking back to the bed.
“Sleeping Beauty?” she asked, sounding amused. “Yeah... I guess it fits.”
He felt the bed next to him depress.
“Now... let’s see if I can remember how that story goes again,” Lois said. “Sleeping Beauty - that would be you - has gone to sleep. Some evil spell or something. The handsome prince - that would be me - comes along and... I know I need to do something. If only I could remember what... Oh right. I do this.”
With lightning speed, she was suddenly tickling him. His eyes flew open, laughing as he tried to protect himself against her probing hands. Reaching out, he grabbed her, flipping her over him onto the bed so that he had her pinned beneath them as they both laughed.
“Well now,” he said when their laughter ended, “this is an interesting development.” He allowed his eyes to roam down her body, taking in the fact that she was wearing nothing more than his t-shirt, examining how his hands were holding her wrists against the bed, reveling in the way her body was trapped beneath his.
He heard her heart rate jump a notch as she seemed to register everything he had. Unable to resist, his mouth descended on hers. And for a long time, no further words were spoken as the two young lovers spent the next hour once again exploring the secrets of each other’s bodies.
* * * * * * * * *
For a long time, Clark simply stared at the defective time machine. He already knew what he was going to do. So it wasn’t indecision that made him hesitate. No, it was the fact that this machine, regardless of its faults, had brought him here. And for that, he owed it a lot.
Still, this was the prudent course of action. Leaving the time machine somewhere where another might find it, figure it out and start using it for himself was not a responsibility Clark wanted on his shoulders.
Giving a final sigh, he dropped it, watching as it sunk through three thousand fathoms of water to settle in the silt on the ocean floor.
* * * * * * * * *
Dragging herself back out of bed this morning had taken every ounce of self-control Lois Lane possessed. But she’d had a story to submit to Perry White and she wanted to get it in before the deadline for the afternoon edition - even if she didn’t know what time that was. Getting it in the morning edition would have been impossible anyway, given that she hadn’t had the whole story until close to two thirty this morning.
After that, she had gotten a little... distracted. Still, following her little diversion with Charlie this morning, she’d forced herself out of bed and into the shower. His question as she’d walked into the bathroom had certainly tested her levels of self-control. It seemed that now that she’d crossed that particular intimacy threshold, she couldn’t quite seem to get enough of Charlie.
“Can I join you?” he’d asked.
Still, she’d forced herself to remain strong. She knew other reporters would undoubtedly be digging around in the whole Bob Stafford affair. She had hoped, though, they didn’t have the story she would be submitting. Turned out she had been right. Since the original arrest had been for production and trafficking charges, that was what the other news organizations had picked up on. The Daily Planet would be running a different headline. ‘Stafford Arrested For Wesley Murder.’
Perry White had looked up at her in shock several times while reading. Then he’d chopped her story apart into four, full size stories, claiming that this was far too important and complex for a single story.
Since Paul was currently under arrest - although Lois didn’t know the details on that development yet - Perry had contacted the staff advisor for the Ink and Quill and quickly hammered out a deal with him - one that had involved a promise from the advisor that her stories not be shown any prejudice in the future due to her bringing this one to the Daily Planet and explaining why she’d brought them the previous story.
As a result, she was going to have the lead story in the afternoon edition of the Daily Planet today, together with three more stories inside the paper.
At that point, they’d discussed follow-up stories. He’d asked her if she wanted them. At first, she’d opened her mouth to accept. But then she’d remembered Charlie.
They had a lot still to talk about. And she was surprised to realize that he was more important to her than getting more copy space in any paper, even the Daily Planet. So she’d ceded to Perry’s request that he assign a couple of his reporters to begin pounding the streets for follow up stories. However, he had demanded one final story of her. A side-bar of her encounter with Bob Stafford after his escape. She’d readily agreed and found a desk at the Planet to write up that encounter.
She smiled as she thought about what had happened then. She wondered what Charlie would think when she told him that she was going to be the first freshmen ever to be given a summer internship at the Daily Planet. And... it was only November!
She rolled her eyes. What were the chances that Charlie would even understand what an honor this was? Oh, he’d be pleased for her - especially if he was a reporter at some point in the distant future. Molly would be pleased for her, too. They would be excited because she was excited. But they wouldn’t understand. Not really.
For the first time, she regretted the loss of her friendship with Linda. Linda would have understood... and been as jealous as hell. Okay, maybe it was better that she was no longer friends with Linda.
She juggled the bag containing the subs from one arm to the other as she climbed the stairs to her floor.
She hoped Charlie was back by now. When she’d left, he’d said he had something he needed to take care of, too. She’d been a little unclear about what that was, but they had promised to meet back at her room for lunch so that they could talk in private. She was glad she’d had an extra key to her room to give him.
She giggled, suddenly having some very erotic images of just what a ‘private lunch’ between her and Charlie might entail. Using her tongue to chase some sub sauce down his bare chest was a particularly appealing image - although not quite as appealing of having him do the same to her. If it were chocolate sauce on the other hand...
‘Stop it, Lois,’ she silently rebuked herself. They needed to talk. And that was exactly what she intended to see that they did.
‘And after that you can explore that chocolate sauce fantasy,’ the little devil sitting on her shoulder whispered into her ear.
Again, she giggled.
Stopping outside her door, she dug into her pocket for her key. She could hear sounds coming from inside her room. Obviously, Charlie had beaten her back. Fitting the key in the lock, it only took her a moment to open the door.
‘Hi, honey. I’m home,’ was what she had intended to say. What she said instead was, “Charlie!”
Slamming the door shut behind her and rushing across the room, she fell to her knees next to where he was doubled over on the floor, a slight whimper coming from the back of his throat, his head buried beneath his hands, as if he were trying to hold his head together as his body convulsed.
No. This was not a normal headache. Something was very wrong with him.
“Charlie,” she said, reaching out to hold him before hesitating. If he was convulsing, should she be trying to restrain him or...
She jumped to her feet and pushed the furniture back to ensure he didn’t hurt himself and then stood there, silently crying out to whatever gods might be listening not to take him from her as tears streaked her cheeks. Just when she thought she could not bear to see him in pain one moment longer, his convulsions began to ease, his body finally relaxing.
Dropping to her knees next to him, she finally gathered his body against her. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whomever had granted him relief. She had no idea how long she sat there, just holding him against her before he finally looked up.
She gasped.
“Wha...” she began, staring at him as if taking in a stranger. Reaching out a trembling hand, she touched the fully grown beard now covering his face.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois paced her room as she waited for Charlie to emerge from the bathroom. He was feeling quite a bit better. Oh, his movements were still slightly stilted, indicating that his joints were still sore. Not the easy grace she was used to seeing from him at all.
She was beginning to have a suspicion about what was wrong with him. The problem was going to be getting him to talk about it - given his insistence that he was fine, that it was just a headache, that it was just a failure to shave this morning. But the length of his beard was not natural, not over that length of time. He’d had no more than a shadow on his face when he’d woken up this morning - so it wasn’t as if his quick beard growth could be attributed to his unusual biology. No, there was something else going on here.
She turned when the door to the bathroom opened and Charlie stepped out.
He shrugged sheepishly. “See,” he said, rubbing his newly shaved chin. “Problem solved.”
She narrowed her eyes. Laying aside the question of where he had obtained shaving equipment - he could have borrowed hers, after all - she could hardly believe how easily he was prepared to dismiss this matter.
“How long have you been having these ‘headaches,’ Charlie.”
“Lois, I don’t...”
“Did you have them before you started traveling in time?”
“Wha...”
“Is it possible this is... I don’t know. Some sort of time traveling sickness?”
He sank down onto the side of her bed, seeming stunned by her question. “How long have you known?”
She let out a breath, stepping over to the bed to take a seat next to him. “Almost since the beginning.”
“How...”
She smiled. “I’m an investigative reporter, remember.”
“You saw the time machine,” he said. “I should have known when you just ignored this huge tarp-covered machine in the middle of my motel room that you’d figured everything out.”
“Yes, I saw the time machine - and your plans for the time machine. But I also remembered you. My guardian angel. The man who rescued me from falling out of a tree when I was nine. The one who told me that guardian angels don’t have names.” She reached up and gently stroked his cheek. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
He looked down. “I was going to tell you. Today. It was one of the things I was planning to tell you. I should have told you last night before we...” He looked up at her, seemingly searching her eyes for signs that she was angry.
She leaned over, giving him a light kiss to alleviate his obvious fear. “One of the things you were going to tell me? Was the other one that you can fly?”
She had to admit, the stunned expression that appeared on his face was somewhat rewarding.
“How...”
“My guardian angel flew. That was one of the things that made me doubt my conclusion that you were actually the same man who rescued me when I was nine.”
“Lois, I’m not a guardian angel. I’m not an angel of any kind.”
She smirked. “If I had any doubts about that, last night would have convinced me that an angel is the last thing you are.”
Her smirk turned to a full fledged smile when a blush appeared on his cheeks. “No, Charlie... I never thought you were an angel. Even if I believed in angels, the fact that you needed a time machine would have dispelled that notion.
“As to how I know that you can fly... I know you were the one who rescued that truck a week ago. I recognized your glasses in those pictures... and I saw your reaction to the news report. You had to fly to rescue that truck. You also flew when you boosted me over the wall to get away from Frank at the football stadium.
“At first, I thought you must have some high-tech gadget from the future that allowed you to fly. But after last night... I guess the only conclusion I can come up with is that you come from a time in the future when mankind has evolved to the point where we can fly.”
“What do you mean, after last night?” he asked cautiously.
“Charlie... we floated.”
He stared at her in disbelief. Obviously, he hadn’t noticed. It was nice to know how distracting she could actually be.
“So when are you from, Charlie? I figure it has to be a long time in the future. The superior hearing. The speed. The strength. The flying. How many thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of years would have to pass for us to evolve to that state?”
He looked down. “You’re right. I do come from the future, but I’m the only one there who can fly. Lois, there’s something you need to know...”
* * * * * * * * *
Lois splashed some cold water on her face before looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She’d thought she’d been ready for anything. But never in her wildest imagination would she have come up with a story like Charlie... no, Clark had just told her.
A planet named Krypton. A small space ship being flung millions of miles across space. Landing in a field in Kansas. Being adopted by a local farmer and his wife. Having his adopted parents die when he was ten. Getting a job at the Daily Planet - she’d been right; he was a reporter. Developing super hearing and smell, x-ray vision, laser vision, super strength and invulnerability. And then, and this was a big one... becoming Superman.
It had all been too much. Too impossible. She still wasn’t certain how his headaches fit in with the invulnerability - they hadn’t yet discussed that. But she’d needed a moment to digest it all.
Still, he could travel through time. He could fly. So really, was the rest all that unbelievable?
No. Not really. And no matter what name he went by... Charlie King or Clark Kent... Whether he was a human or kryptonian... Whether he was born on this planet or another one... he was still the man she loved.
Having reached that conclusion, she quickly dried her face and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the room to see the nervous man pacing back and forth. He stopped when she entered, looking at her with fear in his eyes.
Her heart immediately went out to him. Without hesitation, she walked over to where he was standing, stepping up close enough to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest.
“I love you, Clark Kent,” she said softy.
The tension in his body seemed to drain away as his arms pulled her closer. “Thank, god,” he breathed into her hair. “Because I love you so much and the thought of losing you...”
Before he could finish, one of her hands had left its position around his waist so that she could pull his head down and capture his mouth in a kiss. It was the first time they had ever exchanged those words, after all. And she wasn’t about to miss the moment. Everything else could wait.
“So...” she said, finally ending the kiss and stepping away. She noticed his distracted expression and had to fight off a giggle. In another time and place, he might be Superman, hero to millions, but here, in her hands, he was putty. And it was kinda a heady thought. “Anyway,” she said, realizing that she had gotten distracted, too, “you never did say exactly when you came from.”
“Uhh...” He paused, as if having to bring his mind around to her question. “1997.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Only ten years?” That surprised her. “So if you’re working for the Daily Planet in 1997, you must know me.” She smiled. “Are we partners? I bet we’re great together.”
“Uhh...” Clark said, suddenly looking decidedly uncomfortable.
‘Uh oh,’ she thought. Something was wrong with this picture. What? Did they hate each other? Had they each married other people before they ever had a chance to meet? Whatever it was, something was obviously wrong between them in 1997 - and she’d just stepped right into it. Suddenly, she didn’t want to know.
“Lois...”
“Well, anyway,” she said before he could complete his thought. Why did he have to suddenly look so serious anyway. “I guess that means...”
“Lois...”
“I don’t want to hear it, Char... Clark. I don’t want to hear anything except that you love me and that you’ll never leave me.”
“I love you,” Clark said, stepping closer. “With all my heart. And I promise, I will never leave unless you send me away.” His hand came up to cup her cheek. “The future is whatever we make it.”
She closed her eyes when he leaned in, anticipating the moment his lips would touch hers. The moment when he would seal the promise between them. The future would be whatever they decided it would be. And in her future, he was going to be her friend and lover. And nothing was going to change that now.
A knock on the door prevented Clark’s lips from touching hers. She gave him a frustrated smile.
“I probably should get this,” she said, backing towards the door. “You know... just in case it’s someone I might actually want to talk... Oh, hello,” she said, cutting herself off when she opened the door and saw the strangely dressed little man standing on the other side. She knew him. Or at least, she’d seen him somewhere before. A few times, as a matter of fact - over the course of the past week. But, now that she thought about it, this was the first time she’d seen him when Char... Clark was present.
“Oh, hello, Ms. Lane,” he said, quickly removing his bowler hat. “I was looking for Mr... Uhh, yes. There you are, my boy.”
“Who are you?” Lois asked, suddenly having a bad feeling about this.
“I’m Herbert George Wells, Ms. Lane. And I’ve come here looking for Mr. Kent.”
He stepped into the room without invitation. Lois’ eyebrows went up, but, after looking briefly at the door, decided to close it.
“I’ve come to fetch you, my boy,” Wells said. “You have to come back to the future with me. Everything depends on it.”
END OF PART FOUR
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART FIVE...
ML
