"Clark?"

The ICU nurse reacted abruptly to the sudden sound of the voice as it spiked above the quiet drone of the medical equipment. The patient's eyes were closed and her face impassive, but there was no doubt that she had spoken. "Ms Drake?" the nurse said. "Mayson?"

There was no response.

"Mayson? Wake up, Mayson. Talk to me. Who's Clark?" The nurse gently shook the young woman, but there was no further sign that she was regaining consciousness.

The nurse noted the time on the patient chart and paged the doctor.

He arrived five minutes later. "What happened?" he asked as he swung into the room.

"She spoke. She asked for Clark."

"Clark? Is that her husband? Brother? Son?"

"There's nothing in her notes. Her next of kin is listed as her uncle - a Stephen Drake."

"Has he been in to visit her?"

"Not on my shifts."

"Has she had any visitors at all?"

"Marli said there were two men the night she was brought in. They were work colleagues, I think, not relatives."

"She's a reporter for the Daily Planet, isn't she?"

"Yes. That's right."

"Call the editor and find out who this Clark is. She needs him to be here with her."


Part 65

It was late - very late - but Lois knew sleep was not going to be possible anytime soon. The raging whirlpool of emotions spawned by the meeting had intensified as she'd waited for the outcome of the vote. Now, she felt as if pure adrenalin was flowing through her veins.

"Would you like that Milo now?" Clark asked.

Lois's instinctive reaction was to decline - her ideas for utilising her surge of energy had been running more towards a hot, super-charged session in the bedroom than a quiet, calming drink on the couch. But Clark - having supported her unwaveringly all day - now seemed tired, so she smiled at him. "Thanks."

She watched him move into the kitchen, and the thought occurred to her that perhaps her husband's mood was more due to disappointment than weariness. His efforts to appear unperturbed heightened her suspicions.

With a blaze of inspiration, she understood.

Clark had allowed himself to hope - not that Hawthorn would merge, but that he and Lois would have a life together in Metropolis. Unwittingly, she had dangled the possibility before him. For so long, he'd refused to be tempted, but tonight he'd allowed himself to dream - probably for just a few seconds - and now, it seemed as if his dream had been snatched away.

Perhaps they should forego the Milo after all.

Lois had completed only two steps towards her husband when the phone again interrupted. She hesitated and considered ignoring it. It was probably about the merger meeting, and now that she knew the result, everything else could wait until tomorrow.

It continued ringing, and - thinking it could be Ron, or Barb, or Seb - Lois crossed the room and answered it.

It was Matty from the Cheer Squad. "Lois," he said excitedly. Loud background noise blared through the phone line. "There's a whopping big party happening in the Past Players' Room. You need to get yourself here."

"A party?" Lois said. The result had gone their way ... but she wasn't sure that tonight's events were something to celebrate.

"You bet," Matty said. "We still have our club! And this place is rocking!"

"I'm not sure, Matty," Lois said. Stuck fast in her mind were the memories of the faces of the vanquished - Ron, Yabby, the Hawthorn board - as they had braved the fury of fellow Hawks. "It's late."

"Ah, don't be such a wowser, Lois," Matty said. "This is the beginning of a new era for Hawthorn - you should be a part of it."

"I'll think about it, Matty."

"See you soon," he said happily and hung up.

Clark came from the kitchen, a Milo in each hand and an unopened packet of Tim Tams hanging from the fingers of one hand. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Matty. From the Cheer Squad. There's a party happening, and he thinks I should go."

"Do you want to?"

"I'm not sure."

"You must be tired."

"I know I *must* be tired," Lois said. "But I also know that I couldn't sleep."

"Then let's go."

The fact that Clark didn't even hint that her lack of sleepiness could be put to good use in the bedroom confirmed what Lois had already surmised. Clark was devastated - and working double time to make sure she didn't notice. "Perhaps we should stay here and talk," she said. "We need to decide how this decision is going to affect our future."

"We know how this decision is going to affect our future," he said quietly.

There was no accusation in his tone - not from Clark. And he almost managed to keep his disappointment concealed, too.

"I think we should stay here and talk," Lois said. "I'm not sure anything that happened tonight is worthy of a party."

"I'd like to go," Clark said.

"Why?"

"Because it's my club, too, remember? You said so."

He was hoping for time - time to get his emotions under control before she had the opportunity to probe them too deeply. "Don't try to pretend this is about you, big guy," she said with an easygoing smile. "You want to go because you think I should go."

"You gave so much to this campaign," Clark said. "You gave your time, and your energy, and your emotional investment. And despite some of the things that happened at the meeting, Operation Payback was successful. You convinced the Hawthorn members that their club can survive without merging."

"You really think we should go?"

Clark returned the cups and the Tim Tams to the kitchen and picked up her bag. "Yes," he said decisively. "I think we should go."

||_||

"Clark?"

The nurse's attention jolted from her notes to her patient. "Mayson?"

The patient's eyes shot open, and she searched frantically. "Clark?" she said, her voice desperate. "Clark?" Fear flooded her face, and she grabbed the nurse's arm. "Where's Clark?"

"We're trying to locate Clark," the nurse soothed. Actually, the editor of the Daily Planet had said that Clark was abroad, but this wasn't the time to risk upsetting the patient. "You need to rest."

Mayson's grip loosened, and her face crumbled. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Clark isn't dead."

"He killed him."

"Clark is fine."

"Then why isn't he here?" Mayson demanded. "I know he would want to be here with me. He's dead."

"No," the nurse said. "I spoke with Mr White. Clark isn't dead."

"He killed him," Mayson said as a tear squeezed from her eye and trickled down her face.

The nurse patted Mayson's arm. "I'll call Mr White again," she said. "I'll ask him to visit so you can talk to him about Clark."

Mayson closed her eyes. But that didn't dam her tears.

||_||

The Past Players' Room was indeed rocking.

It was noisy and jubilant.

Noisier and more jubilant than it had been since Grand Final Night, 1991.

The Hawthorn people were happy. Unified. Victorious.

Within five seconds of walking into the room, something within Lois rose to meet the palpable Hawthornness that pulsed through the atmosphere. It felt like coming home.

Matty approached at a speed that would have been impressive for a man half his age and swept her into his arms. "We did it," he proclaimed. "We did it."

Those words reverberated through the blare of triumph.

We did it.

Lois hugged Matty and then saw Chris in the corner of the room. Grabbing Clark's hand, Lois hauled him forward. "Come on," she said. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Chris put down her orange juice, and the two women hugged for a long moment. "We did it," Chris said, her eyes shining from behind pools of unshed tears. "We still have Hawthorn."

Lois nodded and fought down her own tears - happy tears this time. They still had Hawthorn. The reality was beginning to sink in. They still had Hawthorn. The battle had been long, and hard-fought, and bitter, but they had won. She turned to Clark. "Clark," she said. "This is Chris Torrens. Chris, this is Clark Kent."

Chris grinned widely as she greeted Clark. "I've heard rumours about you two," she said. "The newsroom was buzzing with gossip about a wedding."

Lois grinned happily. "The gossip is true," she said. "Clark and I are getting married."

Chris flung her arms around both of them. "I'm so happy for you," she said. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Lois said.

"I'll get us some drinks," Clark said. "What would you like?"

"I'll have a beer," Lois said. "Tonight, I just want to be one of the blokes."

"Chris?" Clark asked.

"Another juice, please."

Clark walked away towards the bar.

Chris turned to Lois with a euphoric grin. "Now I understand why no Hawthorn player could compete for *your* attention," she said.

They giggled together, but then Lois sobered. "Have you talked to Seb?"

"Yeah. I rang him. He said he was happy for me."

"Did you ask him to come here?"

"Yeah, I did, but he wouldn't. He said he'll see me tomorrow."

"He's probably with his parents," Lois said. "Ron looked like a shattered man tonight."

"I wish this could have been done another way," Chris said.

"Me, too."

Clark arrived with their drinks, three people Lois knew from the Cheer Squad swarmed over to their group, and the celebration hurtled on long into the night.

||_||

Perry White stepped hesitantly into the ICU room. The nurse saw him and came over to meet him. "You're Mr White?" she asked in a quiet, serene voice.

He nodded. "Perry White." He glanced to the bed and saw Mayson in the midst of a throng of medical equipment. "I'm Mayson's editor. How is she?"

"She's sleeping now. She was awake briefly about an hour ago."

"You said on the phone that she'd asked about Clark."

The nurse nodded. "She believes he is dead. She's very upset about him."

"He isn't dead. He's in Australia."

"Australia?"

Perry detected the underlying question. "Ms Drake isn't with Clark," he said. He leant towards the nurse and lowered his voice. "Mayson has wanted to be with Clark for a long time, but he has made it very clear to her that they won't ever be together."

"Oh," the nurse said. "That's going to make things complicated."

"Will it affect her recovery?"

"It's hard to say. The next time she wakes up, she might have forgotten that she thought he was dead. She might remember that she isn't with Clark. Sometimes, memory can return in a very haphazard fashion."

"What should I do?" Perry asked, feeling terribly out of place in the starchy, unfamiliar environment. "Should I speak to her?"

"Go and tell her you hope she'll be feeling better soon. Perhaps mention something about the paper - how everyone is missing her and how they send their best wishes."

"Should I mention Clark?"

"No. It's best not to." The nurse sighed. "I'm going to ask for a psychiatry consult."

Perry was shocked. "You think it's *that* bad?"

"I think we need to ensure it doesn't get that bad. She's said very little, but we already know she believes that Clark is dead and that he would be with her if he could. That's enough to indicate she's going to need some help to get through this."

Perry nodded, not sure what to say.

The nurse smiled at him reassuringly. "Go and talk to her for a few minutes," she advised. "Mayson needs to hear a familiar voice."

||_||

When Lois awakened, it felt like the morning after a Grand Final win.

There was overwhelming satisfaction.

They'd won.

Hawthorn had been saved.

There was tiredness of body - but it couldn't hinder a spirit that soared.

By the time Lois and Clark had left the Past Players' Room - with dawn peeking over the horizon - she had been buoyant. Hawthorn had been saved. There was still much to be done, but the mighty Hawks had won their chance.

When Lois had arrived back at her unit with Clark, she had toyed with the idea that celebratory sex could be the perfect way to end the day, but she had been too tired, and too emotionally drained, to contemplate anything other than sleep.

Now, it was morning - the fresh sunrise on a new era. An era when Hawthorn would rebuild, reunite, restore.

Questions had been answered. Extinction had been avoided. The future pages of the story that was the Hawthorn Football Club were blank - waiting for its people to take up the challenge and carve a new beginning.

She needed to be here.

She needed to be a part of the next chapter.

She couldn't walk away.

Clark knew that. He'd accepted that. But it had hurt him.

She twisted in his arms and took a moment to study his sleeping face. She loved him so much. His support had been so steadfast. He'd never ridiculed her love for Hawthorn. He understood.

His eyes flickered and opened, and he smiled at her. "Good morning," he said. "How are you feeling?"

That was so like Clark - his first thought was always her well-being.

Lois sighed happily. "I feel great," she said. "Now, it finally feels like we won. It feels like we can put the disunity and anger of last night behind us. It feels like we can move forward."

"And you want to be involved?" he said.

Lois searched his face for disappointment or resignation, but he was doing a sterling job of masking it. She nodded. "I can't walk away," she said. "Not now."

Clark smiled, but it didn't look entirely genuine. "I could move to Melbourne," he suggested.

"Do you want to?"

"I want to be with you."

But that was only half of the story, and she knew it. "You want to work at the Planet, don't you?"

Clark didn't answer for a long moment, and his eyes avoided hers. "Yeah," he said. "Perhaps in some ways Metropolis for me is like Hawthorn for you. After so many years of drifting around, I found a home there. I became Superman. It's something I believe in. It's more than the job ... it's a part of me. I'm a part of it ... a part of the people there ... a part of the future."

Lois nodded. She understood.

"I still think we should get married," Lois said. "Soon."

"Why?"

"Because I want everyone to know that we are together - and that our togetherness is solid and permanent and complete - even if we live in different cities."

Clark eased from her embrace and rose from the bed. "I'm going to have a shower and get into the suit. It's about time Superman made an appearance in Metropolis."

She heard the water run for a few seconds, and then Superman looked down at her. "I won't be long," he said. "Try to get some more sleep. You must be exhausted after last night."

He kissed her, tried to smile, and was gone.

Lois sighed as she snuggled into the warmth left by Clark's body.

She had to do something. She had to find a way to show Clark that her commitment to Hawthorn didn't diminish her love for him.

Sleep refused to return to a mind that was wrestling to find a clear way forward. Half an hour later, Lois rose, showered, and made herself a strong coffee, hoping the shot of caffeine would bring inspiration.

It did.

Before the coffee was half gone, she had a plan.

Pushing away her cup, she jotted a quick note for Clark, picked up her bag, and scooted out of her unit.

||_||

"I want my computer. I have to write my story."

"Ms Drake. Mayson. You are recovering from a serious head injury." The nurse took a calming breath and tried to contain her rising frustration. They'd been having this conversation for over five minutes.

"I know who killed Clark," Mayson said without a trace of emotion. "I *need* to write the story. I'm a reporter."

"You're a patient in the ICU. You need to rest and recover from your injuries."

"I need to write my story."

"You cannot have a computer."

"Can I have paper and a pen?"

The nurse hesitated. Perhaps allowing the patient to write down her thoughts would assist her in regaining clarity. "All right," she conceded. "You can have paper and a pen."

"And when I've written my story, you'll get a courier to deliver it to Perry White?"

"OK."

The patient smiled in triumph. "This story is going to win a Kerth," she predicted. "I'll remember to thank you when I make my acceptance speech."

||_||

Lois knocked on Browny's door, and he looked up at she entered his office. "Congratulations," he said. "You did it. You saved Hawthorn."

"Thanks," she said as she plopped herself down in the chair.

"Which leaves you in a dilemma," Browny said.

"Yep."

"You want to be with Rubber, whose life is in Metropolis, but - having campaigned so fervently to keep Hawthorn from merging - you feel obligated to stay here and make it work."

Lois nodded.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to marry him ... before he goes back to the States."

"Why?"

"So he knows I am serious about him. So he believes me when I say I want to spend the rest of my life with him. So he understands that I need to help Hawthorn for a time, but that *it* is a temporary thing, and my relationship with *him* is a permanent thing."

"Are you worried that he won't wait for you? Is that why you want to marry him so quickly?"

"No. I know he will wait. But I don't want him to have to wait."

Browny reclined against the back of his chair and tapped the pen on his desk. "How will being married make it easier to live on different sides of the world?"

"Being married will mean that everyone knows we are together - that's our plan, that's our future, that's what will happen."

"Once Hawthorn is stable again?"

"Yes."

"And what if that doesn't happen? What if Hawthorn teeter on the edge of extinction for five years ... ten years perhaps? Is it fair to ask Rubber to wait so long for your wedding to progress to a marriage?"

"No. I would set a limit. Two years. No more. Then I'll go and live in Metropolis with Clark."

"Why not get married then - in two years?"

"Because Clark needs to know now that I am serious about this."

"What are you going to do if he forces you to choose between him and Hawthorn?"

"He won't force me," Lois said. "He understands. He knows this isn't about whom I love more - it's about responsibility and finishing what you start."

"Why did you come to me?"

"Because Clark's time here is limited. I'm hoping he will stay for two weeks - but that would be the maximum."

"Does he have to be back in Metropolis for work reasons?"

"Yes."

Browny sighed and tossed the pen on the desk. "And you want to get married in Melbourne?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you know that Australian Law says you have to give at least one month's notice of intent to marry?"

"But that can be shortened if a Prescribed Authority approves."

"And you know that Sue's brother is a big-wig at the Births, Deaths, and Marriages office?"

Lois nodded.

"And you want me to put in a good word for you?"

"Only if you think it's a good idea," she said quickly. "I'm not asking you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Browny hesitated, huffed, and then his eyes levelled in hers. "I want your word that it will be no more than two years," he said. "It's not fair on Rubber to make him wait any longer than that."

"Two years," she agreed. "Maximum."

"Regardless of the situation at Hawthorn then."

"Regardless."

"And you'll take October to December off every year and go to be with your husband?"

"Are you offering me three months off every year?"

"No," Browny said. "I'm ordering you to take three months every year - without pay. If I'm going to endorse this, I want it to have some chance of working."

"OK."

"And if you get pregnant, you go to Rubber. A kid needs both of its parents."

"We're not planning -"

"Hhhhmmff," Browny said. "Kids don't always wait to be planned."

"OK," Lois agreed. "If I get pregnant, I'll go."

"And January to September, you work five days a week - you can have Tuesdays and Wednesdays off to volunteer at Hawthorn."

"Browny ..." To her dismay, Lois felt tears push into her eyes. "Thank you."

He pointed at her, his smile gone from his mouth but still lingering in his eyes. "And I expect you to work your butt off when you're here. I want the best stories, thoroughly researched, skilfully written, constructed with flair, and submitted *on time*."

"Yes," she said eagerly. "Yes, the best stories, every time."

"I'll talk to my brother-in-law."

"Thank you, Browny. Thank you. This means so much to me."

"Now, get out of here," he said. "Some of us still have work to do."

Lois jumped from the chair, hesitated, and decided not to risk everything by hugging her crusty editor. However, she couldn't just leave. "Will you come to my wedding, Browny?" she asked. "I'd really like you and Sue to be there."

He seemed pleased by her invitation - although he tried to hide his reaction. "Ah ... thanks, Flinders."

"You'll be there?"

"We'll be there."

"And you'll talk to Sue's brother? About shortening the time?"

"I should have an answer for you by the end of the day."

"Thanks, Browny. I really appreciate -"

"You're supposed to be getting me stories. It's September, which - in case you've forgotten - is finals time. Is there any chance I'll get anything usable from you in the next two weeks?"

"Can Clark work with me?"

"I have numerous column inches to fill, and I need good copy. I don't care who gets the byline so long as I get the story."

Lois smiled. "Done," she said. "I'll be back with Clark in a couple of hours."

||_||

Perry stared dumbstruck at the paper in his hand.

The scramble of words veered wildly from the lines, and the punctuation was erratic, but the assertions were blatantly clear.

It *couldn't* be true.

It had to be the product of a damaged and confused mind. They had already established that Mayson's memory was unreliable and her thinking befuddled.

This couldn't be true.

But ...

Perry picked up the phone and called Bill Henderson.

||_||

Back in her unit, Lois poured boiling water onto the coffee granules in the bottom of her cup. She'd hoped Clark would have arrived, but her home was empty.

Loud, impatient thumps sounded on her door, and Lois jumped. She crossed her unit - her mind already forming excuses as to why this was not a good time for a visit - and opened the door.

Seb stared back at her - grinning like an over-exuberant five year old on Christmas morning.

"Seb," she said, smiling in response to his overt high spirits.

He stepped into her unit, swung her into his arms, and proceeded to waltz her across the floor.

"Seb! What are you doing?"

"Celebrating."

Lois planted her feet. "Celebrating what?" she said. Then, she knew. "You and Chris?" she squealed excitedly. "Oh, Seb, that's -"

"No," he said. "We have a date tonight, and I hope that *then* I'll have even more to celebrate."

She waited for him to explain, but he didn't. He took her hand and continued dancing. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest that his partner was dragging her feet. "You bought a Melbourne store?" Lois guessed.

He stopped moving and stood there, grinning with delight. "Nope."

"Then what?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

"This can't be about last night."

He shrugged, still grinning blissfully. "Not really. Congratulations, by the way." He leant forward and smacked a loud kiss on her cheek. "Well done, Lois. You saved our Club."

Lois withdrew her hands from his grip and placed them on her hips. "Seb," she said. "What is this about? You're worrying me."

His excitement moderated a few degrees, and he thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. "I want you to come with me."

"What? Now? Clark's visiting. He's staying with me."

"Clark can come, too."

"He's not here at the moment. He'll be back soon. I should wait for him."

"Leave him a note," Seb said. "I want you to come with me now. I have something I want to show you."

"Seb, I -"

"Lois." His blue eyes softened. "Come with me," he cajoled. "Please. There is something I want to show you."

"I should wait for Clark to come back."

"You can tell him about it later."

Seb reached for her arm, dislodged her hand from her hip, and pulled her towards the door. "When you came to my shop and asked for the opal, I gave it to you. You asked me to trust you, and I did. Now, I'm asking you to trust me."

He was right - she couldn't refuse him.

"OK," Lois said. "Can I finish my coffee first?"

"No," Seb replied. "Just come with me. There'll be time for coffee later."

||_||


Glossary

Wowser - spoilt sport, party pooper.