As Editor in Chief of the Daily Planet, Perry White often had to take calls from important people. Usually they called to complain about some part of the Planet’s coverage that they found unfair or biased. So it was a pleasant change of pace to be on receiving end of a grateful VIP call for once. “Really, Mr. Luthor, no thanks are necessary,” he said graciously. “We’re just doing our job as the fourth estate…Yes, I’ll make sure to pass your message on as soon as I see her.” Perry caught sight of Lois and Caleb striding down the bullpen ramp and waved for them to come into his office. Meanwhile, he still had one ear on his telephone conversation. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you Friday.” As he spoke, he watched the pair part ways. Caleb headed for Lois’s desk and pulled a stack of papers out of a leather briefcase. Lois headed for Perry. He was just hanging up when she popped her head in his door.
“You waved?” she asked jauntily. My, she was in a good mood this morning. And why not? She was the hero of the day, at least as far as Lex Luthor was concerned.
“You’ll never guess who just called,” Perry said, although he was sure she knew exactly whom he’d been talking to.
“Let me guess. Lex Luthor’s personal assistant,” she offered, making herself at home in one of Perry’s guest chairs.
“Even better—the man himself. He wanted me to pass on his personal gratitude to you for saving his Project Shockwave from an embarrassing and potentially disastrous sabotage attempt. Should I even ask who your anonymous tipster is?”
Lois gave a cocky grin. “Sources, Chief—they’re the lifeblood of journalism.”
“Hmmm…seems I’ve heard that somewhere before,” he teased. “I take it there’s going to be a story to go with Mr. Luthor’s heartfelt admiration. How much room should I save you in the evening edition?”
“Half a page, Chief. Front page, above the fold,” Lois answered triumphantly.
“It’s that good, is it?” He didn’t really doubt her, but he didn’t want to give her a swelled head either.
“Oh, yeah, it’s that good,” she answered, rising from the chair and checking her watch. “And I’ve got to get working on it right now.”
She was half-way to the door before Perry said, “Where’s the fire, Lois? You’ve got four hours until the evening deadline.”
“I know,” she shot back. Her mouth gave a wry twist as she added, “But I’ve only got two before I’m supposed to meet my mother for lunch.”
*****
Ellen Lane was the first to arrive for the lunch date. She looked around and glared at the elegant tables and their equally elegant patrons. She didn’t know what Lois was trying to pull by insisting that they meet at Robert Henry’s, the fanciest restaurant in the business district. Probably hoping that Ellen wouldn’t dare make a scene in such a sophisticated setting. Well, if that was the case, her wayward daughter was in for a rude awakening.
A tall middle-aged man in a surprisingly well-tailored suit approached. “Ms. Lane?” he asked tentatively.
Ellen was surprised that the man knew her name. “Yes,” she confirmed, her scowl morphing into consternation.
Neither expression seemed to affect the maitre-d. He merely smiled warmly and offered to take her coat. After handing the garment off to an underling, the man explained, “Your daughter arranged for a private dining room. If you will follow me?”
Ellen trailed after the man without serious objection, but she did have to ask, “A private room? Whatever for?” She really did think that Lois and her new…whatever he was…were carrying things a little too far. She refused to think the word ‘husband.’ Once Ellen was through talking some sense into her oldest child, she was sure that this so-called marriage could be easily dealt with. Running off and marrying some guy that Ellen had never even heard of before—what on Earth had gotten into that girl?
Ellen was on her second Long Island iced tea when her prodigal daughter deigned to appear. Looking at her watch in the most obvious way possible, Ellen said, “You’re late. Where’s your...” she waved her hand in a vague gesture.
Lois leaned down to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Good afternoon to you, too, Mother,” she said in a cheerful voice that took no notice of the rudeness of Ellen’s greeting. Taking her seat, Lois unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap before continuing in a conversational tone, “My *husband* is just a few minutes behind me. He had a small work crisis to deal with, so he’s meeting me here.”
That excuse didn’t impress Ellen. “Hmph. So you married a man who thinks that work is more important than his family. I’ve been down that road, young lady, and it doesn’t end well, believe me.” When she saw that Lois had no intention of rising to the bait, Ellen went on, “Maybe it’s just as well. It gives us an opportunity to talk alone.”
Lois was spared the necessity of replying to that remark by the arrival of their waiter. “Welcome to Robert Henry’s, Mrs…” Lois cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“Thank you. My husband is running a little late. I’ll have seltzer with a twist of lime while we wait. He’ll be coming in the back entrance. I assume that the hallway is clear?”
If the waiter was offended at Lois’s abruptness, he didn’t show it. He merely smiled and assured her, “Of course. We at Robert Henry’s pride ourselves on our discretion.” The two of them exchanged a glance which Ellen couldn’t decipher. Whatever the secret message was, it caused a marked improvement in Lois’s manners. She gave the waiter a warm smile and a sincere “Thank you.”
“My name is Ernest, and I’ll be taking care of you today,” the young man introduced himself. “Can I interest you ladies in an appetizer while you wait for the gentleman?”
Lois glanced briefly at the menu, then at Ellen. “What do you think, Mother? What looks good to you?”
Ellen scowled. “At these prices? I’ve just about lost my appetite.”
Lois shot the waiter an apologetic look, and then she turned that warm smile on him again. “I’ve never been here before. Is there something you especially recommend?” she asked.
“Well, I’d have to know what you plan on having for your entrée in order to make a good recommendation. If you like, I can have the chef put together a complete menu of his choice,” the young man offered.
Lois brightened at the suggestion. “That sounds great, Ernest. Just don’t give us anything with capers, and make sure that the dessert involves chocolate.”
Ernest gave Lois an answering smile of his own. “As you wish. I’ll be right back with your drink.” So saying, he turned on his heel and left mother and daughter alone again.
“Well, that was informative.” Ellen gave her daughter an appraising look over the rim of her glass.
“What was?” Lois was obviously trying to sound innocent, but Ellen wasn’t buying it.
“The way you gave the waiter carte blanche to serve what will no doubt be the most expensive lunch on the menu.” Ellen leaned forward and pinned Lois with narrowed eyes. “Please tell me you haven’t married a surgeon.” When Lois didn’t answer right away, Ellen rolled her eyes. “You have, haven’t you? It fits. The work crisis, the freely flowing money—although one would think that a successful surgeon would be able to give his bride a larger ring—and I don’t know why he feels the need to sneak in the back hallway and hide out in a private dining room.”
“Mother, calm down please. I didn’t marry a surgeon.”
A new thought occurred to Ellen and she frowned. “Not a lawyer, I hope?”
Lois gave a very unladylike snort and rolled her eyes. “No, Mother, even I’m not crazy enough for that.”
At that moment the man in question came striding through the door. Ellen recognized him instantly, of course. His was one of the most famous faces in the world. She thought at first that he had wandered into the wrong room—this couldn’t possibly be Lois’s new husband. But his eyes lit up when he saw them and he headed straight for Lois. Oh, my. No wonder he’d come in the back entrance. For a moment she was frozen by a combination of shock and celebrity awe. If he realized the effect he had on her, he didn’t show it. In fact, he gave absolutely no indication that he was anyone special.
“Sorry I’m late,” he announced with an easy smile. He leaned down and kissed Lois—briefly, thank goodness—before pulling back and asking, “What aren’t you crazy enough for?” His amused tone implied that he was having a hard time imagining anything that Lois wouldn’t be nuts enough to try at least once.
For a moment Ellen thought that Lois looked just as startled as Ellen felt—as if she, too, were a little taken aback by the appearance of the famous man with the elegant style and the brilliant smile. But then Lois grinned up at him and answered, “I was just reassuring my poor worried mother that I hadn’t married a doctor or a lawyer.”
“Ah. That would be my cue to introduce myself, then.” He reached across the table to offer Ellen his right hand. “You must be Ellen,” he smiled. “You’ll be relieved to know that I am neither a doctor nor a lawyer. I’m a writer. My name is…”
“Clark Kent,” Ellen and Mr. Kent said in unison. Kent’s smile grew wider in friendly acknowledgement of Ellen’s recognition, but Ellen’s face was still frozen in shock.
As Mr. Kent took his seat next to Lois and across from Ellen, Lois acted as if nothing untoward had happened. “See, Mother? You don’t have to worry. Clark won’t be missing dinners and ballet recitals for emergency surgeries.”
The comment brought Ellen back to reality. It was all very nice to think of Lois married to a rich celebrity, but Ellen wasn’t a bit reassured about her daughter’s judgment in men. In fact, she was more worried than ever. Snapping out of her daze, she turned a somber face on the pair of young people. “I’d really hoped that you would learn from my mistakes, Lois, but I suppose you are doomed to repeat history.”
Lois frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, Mother? We just told you, Clark’s not a doctor. He’s nothing like Daddy.”
“Isn’t he?” Ellen turned a challenging glare on her daughter. “He’s not a doctor, no, but he is exactly like your father in the one respect that matters most.” Her glare moved to take in Mr. Kent as well—he might be a celebrity, but that didn’t give him the right to seduce Ellen’s daughter for his own selfish ends. “He’s a philanderer,” she accused.
Lois’s reaction was instantaneous and furious. “Mother! How dare you! I don’t care what you…” She was working up a good head of steam in defense of her husband, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She broke off in midsentence and the pair exchanged glances. Kent’s mollifying look was met with an expression from Lois that even Ellen could interpret. It said ‘I’ll hold my tongue for now, but only because it’s you asking and I reserve the right to continue this thought if I’m not satisfied with what you’re about to say.’
Apparently that was good enough for Kent, because he moved his hand from Lois’s shoulder down to grasp her hand supportively. Then he turned to Ellen with a look of open apology. “Mrs. Lane, I am more sorry than I can say that I have given you every reason to doubt my faithfulness to your daughter. Frankly, if any daughter of mine had run off and eloped with a man of my reputation, I’d be just as angry at him and just as worried for her as you are now. I can’t think of anything I can say to reassure you. I can only ask that you give me a chance to prove to you that my reputation is unfounded.” Ellen opened her mouth to argue, but Kent pressed on before she could get a word in. “I don’t deny that I’ve dated many women, and rarely the same one twice. But that’s as far as it went—just a date. I was always completely up front with every one of them. They all knew that a date with Clark Kent was not a long-term proposition, and that, in fact, there was no *proposition* involved at all, if you take my meaning.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Lois put in pointedly.
“No, honey, it is her business. Not the details, obviously, but your mother is worried for your happiness, and she has every right to be.” Turning back to Ellen, he went on, “Mrs. Lane, please believe me when I say that I’ve never broken any woman’s heart, and I don’t intend to start now. Up until now, no woman’s heart has ever been mine to break. And now,” he gave Lois a tender glance, “Lois has given her heart into my keeping, as I have given mine into hers. I’m sure we’ll make mistakes along the way, just like any other couple, but neither of us is going anywhere. We’re both in this for life.”
The look Clark gave Ellen at the end of his little speech was both pleading and hopeful. She was skeptical, but, really, what option did she have? It was all well and good to try to bully Lois into backing out of her hasty marriage, but now that she saw the two of them together, Ellen had to admit that it was a losing battle. Lois was an adult. She hadn’t taken advice from Ellen in years—why would she start now? But that didn’t mean that Ellen had to swallow Kent’s snow job hook, line, and sinker.
She settled for a noncommittal, “We’ll see, Mr. Kent. Time will tell.”
The smile he gave her was relieved more than charming. “That’s all I can hope for, Mrs. Lane…that you give me a chance and let my actions speak louder than my reputation.”
“Oh, all right. If you’re really going to be around for a while, I guess you’d better call me Ellen.” The offer may have been a little begrudging, but it earned her a full-blown patented Clark Kent smile nevertheless.
***
An hour later, Lois walked her mother to her cab while Clark stayed behind to settle the bill. When she came back to the private dining room, she passed Ernest on his way out. Clark was just tucking his wallet back into his pocket, and he stood as she entered the room and held out his arms in silent invitation. Lois walked into his embrace and rested her head against his chest. This was a nice side benefit of having a private dining room—no worries about public displays of affection. Clark’s right hand was running up and down her back in a slow, soothing rhythm.
“I am *so* glad that’s over,” she sighed. “And I’m glad my dad already knows you.”
“Your dad knows Caleb,” Clark corrected, “but after what happened with Menken and his fighters, I think some of Caleb’s brownie points are probably transferable to Clark.”
“They’d better be, because I’m not making you sit through a grilling like that one again.”
Clark gave a low chuckle that Lois found incongruous. She pulled back just enough to see his face. “I’m glad one of us can find something to laugh about,” she challenged. To her consternation, he only smiled wider.
“I’m laughing at you,” he said, his affectionate touch on her cheek taking any potential sting out of the words. “My dad was a little worried about how you’d stand up to the entertainment press…”
“Mud-slinging rumor mongers,” Lois corrected automatically—which made Clark laugh again.
“I wouldn’t recommend calling them that to their faces, but that’s just what I’m talking about. The way you kept defending me to your mom—who, by the way, wasn’t giving me anything that my reputation doesn’t richly deserve—I’m not one bit worried about you getting run over by the Cat Grants of the world, or the Leo Nunks for that matter.”
Lois could feel the corners of her mouth twitching, and she soon gave up trying to suppress the smile. No one but Clark was so adept at teasing her out of a bad mood. No one but Clark or Perry would even dare try.
Taking a step or two backward, she surveyed her husband from head to toe and back again. Knowing exactly what she was doing, Clark cooperated by turning in a slow circle.
Coming back around to face her, he gave her a hopeful look and said, “Well? It’s been a while since you’ve seen Clark Kent up close and personal. What do you think?”
“Well…” she drew the word out in a mock-critical tone, “He’s a little formal for my taste, but maybe that’s just because I’m used to Caleb. The clothes are okay. You look really good in blue jeans, but I guess you can’t wear them to all your book signings.”
“Wait till you see me in a tux,” he grinned cockily.
“I *have* seen you in a tux. You were wearing one the first time I met you. And yes, you looked great in it.” Her tone said not to let it go to his head. She resumed her critical inspection, affecting the concentrated gaze of someone looking for the fatal flaw in an otherwise perfect work of art. After a moment she gave a decisive nod and announced, “It’s the hair mousse. It’s got to go.”
Clark merely grinned in easy acquiescence. “I agree. I only wore it today so your mom would recognize me. From now on, I’m done with hair mousse. And lambs wool, too, come to think of it. And probably a few other things.” Beaming at Lois, he summed up, “Clark Kent is back, but he’s not the man most people will be expecting any more. He’s…just me.”
Lois gave him an answering grin, but then she looked at her watch and switched gears. “Well, just you sounds great to me, but just me needs to get back to work.”
“Do you need any more help on the Shockwave story?” Clark asked.
“No. It’s already in to the editors. There’s really no need for Caleb to put in another appearance at the Planet today. But that reminds me—Perry wants you to come to the morning staff meeting tomorrow if you’re free.”
Clark gave a confused frown. “Why does your editor want your husband at his staff meeting?”
Lois shook her head. “I don’t think Perry even realizes that we’re married yet. We were both so busy today that no one got close enough to notice that we’re not wearing our undercover rings. My editor wants my ‘special assistant’ at his staff meeting because he’s hoping to convince you to come on staff full time. At least that’s my guess. You might as well show up and turn him down to his face. He’ll only keep wheedling us both until you do.”
“All right. Let me pick you up after work tonight,” he offered. “We still have the suite at the Lexor. We can order room service and enjoy an evening in without spy duty. Or we can stay at your place or mine if you’d rather. I can cook or we can grab some carry out on the way home.”
Lois thought for a moment. They hadn’t discussed the issue of where they would live. Her lease wasn’t up for another few months, but it wasn’t as if they needed to save on rent. “Let’s stay at the Lexor tonight,” she suggested. “We’ve already got clothes for both of us there. We can check out in the morning and move some of my stuff into your place tomorrow night.”
“Or I can move some stuff into your apartment. You don’t have to give up your place.”
“I know I don’t. But your place is bigger, and it’s new. I kind of like the idea of starting off together in a new house. We’ll move some of my old things in and still have plenty of room for new things that we choose together.”
For a moment they just looked at each other, silently savoring the novelty of having one place for both of them to call ‘home.’ “I’d like that,” Clark finally said, his voice still full of that ‘I can’t believe this is really happening’ feeling.
Then, giving her head a little shake, Lois gave her husband one last parting kiss and headed back to work.
*****
Lex Luthor looked up from the financial report he was perusing. “Yes, Nigel? What can I do for you?”
Nigel took a few more steps into his employer’s office. “I beg your pardon, sir. I have made arrangements with a Mr. Ross, Clark Kent’s security officer, to tour the ballroom tomorrow evening. Given this morning’s developments, I thought it prudent to reconfirm your plans for Friday evening.”
“No change, Nigel. Mr. Knight may have had a part in saving my Shockwave project, but that doesn’t get Mr. Kent off the hook. I’m not saying that Superman wouldn’t intervene even if I were the only one kidnapped, but the presence of a second high-profile hostage will certainly sweeten the pot. Besides, someone needs to get shot so that I can kill our stooge in his defense. With Superman dead from our glowing green secret weapon, the kidnapper killed in my struggle to save my guest, and the unfortunate guest dead at the hands of the kidnapper, I will be the only witness alive to tell the tale.”
“As you wish, sir. Everything is in order.”
Something in his underling’s tone made Lex give the man a second look. “You seem troubled, Nigel.” When the older man hesitated, Lex prodded, “I don’t pay you to be a yes-man. If there is something that I’ve overlooked, spit it out, man.”
Nigel took a moment to gather his thoughts, then he ventured, “I realize that you are counting on the element of surprise with this…”
“I’ve dubbed it ‘Kryptonite’,” Lex supplied with a touch of pride.
“…This Kryptonite,” Nigel continued. “Nevertheless, I’d feel a good deal more confident if we had more than Mrs. Cox’s single field test and the theories of an arguably unstable rogue military officer. At the risk of sounding blunt, sir—What if it doesn’t work?”
Lex leaned back in his chair and placed both hands behind his head with a satisfied air. “Ah, Nigel, you underestimate me. That possibility has crossed my mind, and that is the reason for the hired help. If the stone has no effect on Superman, then he simply rescues me and my esteemed guest from the kidnapper and we both live to fight another day.”
“And the kidnapper? You aren’t worried about being ratted out, to put it less than delicately?”
Lex dismissed that possibility with a wave of his hand. “It will be his word against mine and he will be dead from some unfortunate jailhouse accident before he can find anyone willing to take his story seriously.”
Nigel nodded in understanding. “As usual, sir, you have thought of everything.”
“Indeed I have, Nigel. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.”
*****
