Lucy argued with herself the whole way over to Clinton Street. She had justified looking up Clark Kent’s address in the phone book, telling herself she was just double checking the number he had given her. And she was going to his apartment because what had happened the other night was just too big to share at the Planet. Surely, a news reporter would want this story all to himself and wouldn’t want nosy colleagues stealing the scoop.
She kept telling herself that, to avoid thinking about the fact that he was married and that his wife was probably home. She avoided thinking that she was acting just a little... well, stalkerish.
Lucy smoothed her skirt before knocking on the door, at the same time trying not to think about how she looked. The man was married! It didn’t matter how gorgeous he was, he was off the market.
Lucy was about to raise her fist again to knock when the door opened. The bit she could see of the apartment was dark, and all she could make out was the vague form of a woman on the other side of the curtained door. <<Oh great. His wife, no doubt.>>
“Can I help you?” came a woman’s deep southern voice.
“Um, sorry to bother you. I was looking for Mr. Kent.”
“He—he’s at the Planet,” the woman said, her voice hesitant for a second.
“Could I leave a note for him here? I have to be back at work and I don’t have time—“
“You could call him,” suggested the woman.
Lucy tried to get a closer look at the woman, surprised by her suggestion, though she kept pushing the door more closed.
“Wait! Please! Could I just have a pad and pencil?” Lucy said, trying to get a glimpse of the inside of Clark’s apartment. <<If only his wife would move out of the way!>>
The woman sighed and thrust a post-it pad and a pen at Lucy.
Lucy scribbled, “Hi Mr. Kent. I have BIG news! Good news! Hopefully it will be good for your career! Amazing thing happened -- must share with trusted reporter. Lucy Lane.”
Lucy handed the note and pen back through the door. “You know, I love southern accents. When we were kids, my sister and I used to pretend to be Scarlett O’Hara in ‘Gone With the Wind,’ though I always thought my—sister made a better Scarlett than me...” Lucy said, suddenly choking up.
“Your—sister?” asked the woman, her southern accent faltering just a little.
“Yeah, she uh, died... I think. In the Congo. She was a reporter like Mr. Kent... I’m sorry... here I am crying all over your front stoop. You must think--- I don’t know... Sorry to bother you,” Lucy said, wondering why it still hurt to think of Lois.
“Wait,” the woman said, “Did anyone follow you here? Does anyone know you came here?”
Lucy stopped crying, wondering at the strange questions. <<What kind of paranoid freak did that handsome devil marry?>> Lucy shook her head to the woman’s questions, then realizing that she probably couldn’t see her through the curtain said, “No. I’m alone.”
The woman gestured for her to come inside, though Lucy still couldn’t see her face properly. Lucy hesitated, wondering if this were some kind of trap. But she trusted Mr. Kent, and therefore, she thought he could trust his wife.
Lucy stepped inside and shut the door. The woman finally faced her, with tears in her own eyes.
“Your sister’s not dead, Lucy. She’s right here.”
*~*~*~*
Lois didn’t know why she had opened the door. That had been foolish to start with. It could have been anybody... yet she had seen the slight form of a woman through the glass and her curiosity got the best of her. What if it was a girlfriend of Clark’s? She should know if he had a girlfriend... whatever their relationship was could be made infinitely more complicated than it already was if there was another woman involved.
And then, there had stood her sister. Her sweet, somewhat naive little sister. She had almost been brave enough to leave Lucy thinking she had just had a bizarre encounter with Clark’s reclusive wife, but then Lucy had brought up their favorite childhood memory and had started crying.
It was the tears that got her. They made her realize she was hurting her sister by not telling her the truth. And besides, Lucy had a guardian now in the blur. So, Lois no longer wanting to be a coward, invited her sister in.
They were staring at each other, both of their cheeks wet with tears.
“Lois?” squeaked Lucy.
Lois nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, sis. I really am.”
“For what?” said Lucy, reaching out to hug her long-lost sister.
“For not telling you that I was back,” Lois said, relishing holding her sibling close once again.
“When did you get back?”
“A few days ago.”
Lucy pulled away to look at her. “Do you know there are some seriously dangerous guys looking for you?”
Lois nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Lois handed Lucy a tissue and wiped her own eyes with one. When Lucy had composed herself she suddenly looked up at Lois.
Lois watched Lucy as the penny dropped. “So *you’re* married to Mr. Kent?”
Lois laughed wryly. “Not exactly. It’s a cover, Lucy. There are some really bad guys out there and Clark and I---are working to put them away.”
“Lois, I came here because something unbelievable happened in my—well, your old apartment. I was going to tell Mr. Kent about it.”
“Oh? And why didn’t you try to seek him out professionally at the Planet?” Lois couldn’t help a little a teasing. It felt so good to tease her little sister again.
Lucy had the grace to blush. “Ok, I know. Not the most professional angle. But Lois, that man is *gorgeous*! And it seems, *not* married,” Lucy finished triumphantly.
“Clark is not a piece of meat, Lucy. And, no he’s not married, but he and I—“ Lois began defensively, but realized she was uncertain how to define *what* they were.
“Are you a couple then?”
“Sort of. Look, it’s complicated and it’s none of your business, Lucy,” Lois hurried on.
“I’m sorry. I’ll lay off, if you want.”
Lois hesitated, “Have you—talked to Mom or Dad?”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah. Dad is in some unpronounceable European city doing research. Mother is chasing after a man half her age, but she is doing okay.”
Lois crossed her arms nervously. “Well, good. I’m glad Dad is somewhere remote. But Mother---“
Lucy suddenly looked worried. “Lois. I—I was scared when these men started threatening me about you. So I mentioned it to Mother. Was that a mistake?”
“It isn’t as long as she doesn’t go to the police. And Lucy, you can’t tell her I’m here in Metropolis. It’s dangerous information.”
“No, I don’t think she’ll go to the police. I talked her out of that the other night on the phone. She is worried, though. Can I at least tell her you’re alive?”
Lois sighed. “In the vaguest terms possible, I suppose. That they are looking for me, perhaps. But you can’t let her know you’ve seen me.” Lois started pacing. “Maybe it was a mistake to let you in here... But I’m just so---“ she looked over at her sister, whose face was full of concern. Lois smiled, shaking off her fears. “Tell me all about the other night when you were rescued.”
“Wait, how did you know I was rescued?”
“I was there, Lucy. Just taking a walk, and I saw it all.”
“Then I’m not crazy, right? There was something that flew into my apartment and took that bad guy out of there. I’ve been going over it in my mind, trying to sort out what the heck it could have been... what do you think it was, Lois?”
Lois shrugged. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it seems to want to help. And that can’t be a bad thing. I mean, it gave me the courage to open that door,” she suddenly beamed a smile at her sister.
They hugged. “I’ve missed you, big sis.”
“Me too.”
They sat and looked at each other a moment. “Lois, are you going to tell me *why* these thugs are after you?”
“No,” Lois said firmly, moving away from Lucy. “I can’t and you can’t know any more than you do now. I just hope---that no one knows you were here.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“You’d better. And please, stop stalking Clark. He’s not for you.”
“What? You mean he’s yours?”
Lois felt herself blushing. “That’s not what I’m saying. But Lucy, the man is not to be played with, that’s all. And well, he---okay, well he---just back off, okay? And be very careful when you go out. We know there is something out there that wants to protect you, but you can’t count on it or him or whatever to be there. Please promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Fine,” Lucy laughed. “It’s so nice to have my bossy sister back.”
They hugged again and Lucy headed towards the door.
“What do I do if I need to contact you? Come here?”
Lois shook her head. “No. Go to the Planet. Or call Clark. And ask for Linda. That’s my alias these days,” she smiled.
“Your life is crazy, Lois. I just hope you know what you’re doing tracking these bad guys.”
“You and me both.”
*~*~*~*
Lois had sent her sister home long ago and had resumed digging through her past. She hadn’t come up with much, but luckily, the tears hadn’t come back. It had felt so good to reconnect with her sister, though Lois hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in talking to her. The more Lucy knew, the more she was at risk.
Lois scooped up the newspaper clippings, setting the ones aside that she wanted to ask Clark about later. <<Speaking of Clark, where was he?>> she wondered.
She noticed it had gotten dark out, and unless he was onto a big story, he should be home soon. Her stomach growled with hunger and she smiled, wondering what he might bring home for dinner.
Her stomach rumbled empty again so she decided to look in the fridge for some leftovers to tide her over till Clark got home.
She was nosing in the fridge when she heard the front door open. She closed the fridge in relief, glad that Clark was back and hopeful that he had brought some yummy takeout.
“Hey, I’m in the kitchen,” she called.
Instead of hearing a response, the light in the living room went dark.
“Clark?” she called fearfully.
Lois felt her heart in her throat and immediately took a defensive pose when he didn’t answer. She thought of reaching for a knife but instantly dismissed the idea. She was no longer an assassin... she wouldn’t kill. But she knew enough moves that she could do physical damage without actually killing.
She eased towards the living room, listening intently.
She cursed herself for not paying attention to where all of the light switches were in Clark’s apartment. That was a detail that would be really helpful right about now. The open-plan layout of the place made it logical that there would be switches for lights in the living room near the kitchen, but she had no idea where.
“Miss Lane, you’ve fallen behind on your duties,” came a gruff voice from somewhere near the sofa.
“Who are you?” she demanded, trying to look through the dark and hoping that her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.
“I think you know who sent me. The Boss doesn’t back down on his promises. You didn’t think we wouldn’t know how to follow you, did you?” he laughed menacingly.
A small light over the oven lit one small corner of the room near the balcony window from the kitchen, but the rest of the living room was hopelessly dark. Even the light on the front porch only illuminated the front door, so she could see only his shadow if he were to pass by it. She sensed he was circling her, seeing a vague shadow now and then, and she tried to counter-move as he moved. If she couldn’t tell exactly where she was than neither would he.
“You thought we didn’t know where your mark would be found? At the airfield? It was very sloppy of you to leave those weapons behind, Miss Lane. Very sloppy indeed.”
She cringed inwardly at her carelessness. Of course they would have conjectured that she had taken off with her American target with her weapons lying on the ground at the airfield! At the time, she had only thought of being rid of the whole mess, not wanting those instruments of violence to come with her.
She heard his gun click and she swallowed in fear, wondering if he could see her from the dim kitchen light. In her movement around the living room, she bumped into a side table. She felt for anything on it to throw at the man, her fingers landing on a lamp. Lois yanked it out of the socket and chucked it at him.
It merely crashed harmlessly somewhere in the dark.
She took a fighting pose and summoned up her courage to face the gunman. “Are you afraid to face me unarmed? Must you come after a woman with a gun in the dark? Rather cowardly, I’d say,” she goaded.
She kicked a semi-circle around her, trying to sense where he was, but failing.
“Oh, Miss Lane, you are so foolish,” she heard from across the room.
Suddenly, she heard gunfire but nothing hit her.
Instead, she instantly felt gentle yet strong arms come around her from behind, shielding her from the bullets. Her heart jumped at the realization of what was protecting her.
It was the blur.
And the blur was not a thing, but a *man*.
After the rain of bullets, she felt him leave her and heard a swoosh of wind as he stopped the gunmen. She heard a small struggle but could see nothing. It was over in a matter of seconds, though.
Then in a blink, the light was on again and the gunman was tied up on Clark’s sofa.
He wasn’t what she had expected. In the dark, she had imagined a tall, large man. This man was short and fat, with beady eyes, though he looked as shocked as she felt.
Suddenly, Clark came in the door. “What happened?” he asked.
Lois could only point, “He---and—the blur—“ she stammered, utterly stunned.
Clark came to her, giving her a comforting hug. “It will be okay, Lois.”
“We... what should we do?” she asked shakily.
Clark turned to the thug, crossing his arms across his chest in an intimidating manner.
“Who is this Boss that sent you?” he questioned, his stance and his voice daring the thug to deny it had been anyone else.
“I don’t know anything about him,” said the man.
“Well, if you aren’t willing to tell us, maybe you’ll talk to the police,” Clark said, moving toward the phone.
Lois touched his arm, stopping him. “Is that such a good idea?”
“A man came into our home and threatened my wife. That’s all I need to say,” he assured her quietly.
She hesitated a moment and then nodded.
“Inspector Henderson?” Clark said into the handset. “This is Clark Kent. Can you send a few cops to my place? Someone broke in to my apartment armed with a gun. We’ve managed to stop him... he’s tied up in my living room.”
*~*~*~*
Clark handled talking to the police, leaving Lois to pace in the kitchen, contemplating what had happened.
It had only been a moment, but Lois had felt the goodness in the blur, being held so closely. It sent shivers of excitement up her spine. She had to find him, had to figure out who he was. Not for a story anymore, but for herself. She had to know why he had saved her and her sister. Why them? Did he save others? Where had he come from?
<<The blur saved my life,>> she thought, her arms wrapped around herself as if to recreate the embrace that had protected her. <<He’s a man. A flesh and blood man! But how can anyone move like that? And be invulnerable to bullets! Invulnerable to--->>
She was pacing mentally when she glanced up, seeing Clark leaning against the door frame of the kitchen.
“You all right?” he asked with concern.
She turned to him and nodded with a small smile.
“Yeah, I’m fine... Clark---the blur was *here*! He saved me!” She thought she saw a twitch of his lips as if to laugh at her. “Clark, I’m serious! And I discovered that the blur—is a *man*! How about *that*!”
He adjusted his glasses nervously. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe, whoever it was that did it. But Lois, don’t you want to know what the police said about the thug that was in here?”
“Huh?” she asked, still distracted. “Oh, yes! Did you get any information on the Boss?”
Clark sighed. “No. But the guy that was in here has a rap sheet a mile long. Apparently he’s a hit man, and the FBI has been after him for quite a while. He wouldn’t talk about who paid him for the job, but he hinted that he was to be paid a pretty handsome sum. Lois, I’m sure of one thing. The Boss is a wealthy and very connected man.”
