I'd like to thank my readers for being so patient, and hope people haven't forgotten my story. Real Life got very annoying last month, and hasn't quite resolved itself yet, but I at least got this part done. Hopefully things will get straightened out in the next couple of weeks (/me crosses my fingers and wishes real hard...)
Smallville: 10/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"Uh -- allergies," Jonathan said. "Clark's allergic to Wayne's dog."
Jack's eyebrows went up. "Dog?" he said.
"That's right." The look Martha shot her husband could have killed at thirty feet. "He's got an Afghan Hound that Clark's allergic to."
"It nearly put him in the hospital last year," Jonathan added. "Asthma. Clark has to be real careful about long-haired dogs."
"Huh!" Jack said. "But you're okay now?"
Clark nodded. "Wayne kind of panicked," he said. "He called Mom when I got sick. I'll be all right now that I'm away from the -- dog."
"That's good," Jack said.
"It's late," Martha said. "You and Denny hang up your things and go upstairs and get ready for bed. Tomorrow's Christmas, remember."
Jack nodded. "Sure," he said. "Come on, Den."
"You *sure* you're okay, Mr. Kent?" Denny asked, anxiously. "Your face looks kinda green -- the way Jack looks when he gets carsick."
"Clark will be fine by tomorrow," Martha said firmly. "You boys were real good, taking care of the animals like that, but Santa can't come 'til everyone's in bed, so scoot."
Jack gave her a pained look but said nothing as he and Denny ascended the stairs.
Martha got to her feet. "I'll get your sleeping things, Clark," she said. "You sit still. Your dad can help you get changed."
"Mom, I'm not that bad off," Clark protested. "I'm really starting to feel better."
Martha gave him a skeptical look, but didn't argue. After several seconds, Jonathan got to his feet. "I think I'll double-check what the boys did," he said. "Just to be sure everything's okay."
Lois thought Clark looked slightly relieved as his parents departed on their respective errands, as if he was unused to people making a fuss over him. She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Sorry," she said softly. "We just want you to be all right. I'm allowed to worry about you, you know. I'm going to marry you, and it's in the contract. In the fine print."
Clark gave a soft laugh. "You win. But are you sure you don't want to change your mind, after all this?"
"Not on your life," Lois said. "I told you that once I agreed to marry you, you'd never get rid of me. Come on. I'll just give you a shoulder to lean on to the bathroom, so you can change in private."
**********
And now, Part 10:
Tony Daus stepped off the elevator and looked around the Daily Planet newsroom.
It was early morning, of course, but the place was already a hive of frenetic activity. He glanced down at the package he held, and gathered his nerve. He definitely needed somebody to give him advice, and this whole situation was weird. But showing up uninvited to talk to the Daily Planet's editor-in-chief was almost as scary as the thought of dealing with this package thing on his own.
Almost, but not quite.
Slowly, he walked down the ramp that led to the Pit. A passing denizen of the newsroom turned to look at him curiously.
"You look lost," the kid -- he couldn't be more than twenty, Tony thought -- said. "Need some help?"
"Uh -- yeah," Tony said. "I'm Tony Daus. I'm supposed to start work here in about three weeks, but something weird happened to me this morning, and I thought that maybe --"
"If it's weird, you've come to the right place," the kid said. "I'm Jimmy Olsen. Mr. White won't be in for another half hour, but if you want to come in and wait you can sit at my desk."
Tony nodded. "That would be good. I don't really know what to do. I kind of hoped Mr. White would be able to give me some advice."
"What happened?" Jimmy asked.
"Well --" Tony hesitated. Should he tell the kid? They'd just met, but why not? "I drive a taxi to make a little extra money until I graduate, you know? Anyway, yesterday --"
The story of the package left in his cab, the phone call last night, and the package left in front of his door this morning came out as they crossed the Pit to Jimmy's desk. Jimmy listened, frowning.
"Wow," he said, when Tony finished. "You're right; that's really strange. But you haven't opened the envelope yet?"
Tony shook his head. "I didn't think I should until I was sure what I should do," he said. "I thought maybe Mr. White could help."
"Yeah," Jimmy said. He studied the envelope thoughtfully. "You know, you'll probably get another call about this one, too."
"Probably," Tony said. "But if it's money, why would anyone give it to me?"
"Good question," Jimmy said. "It sounds like somebody might be trying to bribe you."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Tony said. "Why would anyone want to bribe me? What good would I be to anyone?"
Jimmy shrugged. "Is there anything valuable that you know about?"
Tony shook his head. "Not a thing."
"Well, do you know anybody important enough that somebody might think that you could find out something about them that might be useful? Maybe for blackmail or something?"
"No," Tony said.
"Well, has anything changed in your life recently that might make somebody think you could be useful to him?"
Tony shrugged. "I don't think so," he said. "The only thing that's happened to me recently is that I talked to Mr. White yesterday, and he hired me."
"Maybe that's it," Jimmy said hesitantly. "Maybe somebody found out you're going to be working here."
"But who?" Tony said. "And why would he want to bribe me?"
"I don't know," Jimmy said. He frowned, obviously thinking hard. "Maybe Mr. White would have some kind of idea. He's a pretty smart guy. He used to be an investigative reporter before he got to be the editor."
The opening elevator door cut off the conversation and Perry White stepped out. Jimmy stood up. "Mr. White's a little early," he said. "Let's catch him before somebody else does, and see what he thinks."
Tony also got to his feet and followed behind Jimmy Olsen as he led the way to the office of the Managing Editor, obviously intending to meet White there.
His timing was almost exact. They arrived only a few seconds ahead of the older man and Jimmy addressed his boss. "Mr. White? Could Tony and I talk to you?"
Perry White glanced at Tony, and he swallowed, hoping that he hadn't made a mistake.
But the editor opened his door and entered ahead of them. "Come on in, kids. I've got a few minutes before the morning meetin'." He waved them inside and then moved to one of the shelves on his office wall and did something that Tony couldn't see. The strains of Elvis Presley's "All Shook Up," filled the room. Apparently satisfied, he opened a side door in the office that led directly into Conference Room One and beckoned them through.
Jimmy and Tony looked at each other and then preceded the editor into the conference room. White closed the door carefully behind him and turned back. "Okay; what's so all-fired important?"
"Tony needs to ask for some advice," Jimmy said. "Something kind of strange happened, and he figured you were the best one to help him decide what to do. Tell him, Tony."
The corner of the editor's mouth twitched. "Good to know somebody's got that kind of respect," he said. "What's the problem, son?"
"Well --" Tony laid the package down on the long conference room table. "Yesterday evening, a passenger left a package in my cab --"
The whole story came out. Perry White listened intently, and Tony saw him regarding the package thoughtfully.
"So, first you got that call, and then a little while later, somebody leaves another package in front of your door," he said, when Tony finished. "Very interesting." He was silent for several seconds. "Jimmy, you still got that steamer thing you cooked up for Lois last year when she needed to get the evidence out of Antonio Rimosa's letters without him finding out?"
The stunned expression on Jimmy Olsen's face was a study to see. Tony almost grinned.
"Did Lois tell you about that?" Jimmy asked. "She promised she wouldn't tell anybody!"
White raised an eyebrow. "Give me some credit," he said dryly. "Lois didn't say a word. You still got it? I want to see what's in that thing without leaving evidence."
"Yeah," Jimmy admitted. "I stuck it in the storeroom. Figured Lois might need it again, someday."
"Wouldn't bet against it," White agreed. "Go get it and let's get busy." He looked back at Tony again. "I'm sort of wonderin' if you haven't got sucked in on somethin' you didn't bargain for, son -- but I might be wrong. Let's just see what we have and go from there."
Jimmy was back in a matter of minutes, holding a small item that looked rather like a large perfume bottle with some kind of metal base with three stubby legs. He set it on the table and pushed a hidden switch on the bottom.
"What's that?" Tony asked.
"Lois needed something to steam letters open that she could hide in her pocket," Jimmy explained. "One that didn't need a stove or an electric plug or anything, because she was going to sneak into a guy's office at night and couldn't carry all that stuff, and she didn't want to leave traces. So I rigged this up. It's battery powered and the heat source is self-contained. Lois got a Kerth for the investigation, too."
"Antonio Rimosa? The guy mixed up in that big stock swindle?" Tony said, impressed. "I remember reading about it last year. That was something!"
Perry White looked like he was trying not to grin. "Never mind. Let's just see what's in this envelope of Tony's. Then, if we need to, we can glue it back and pretend it was never opened."
The small device was beginning to produce steam, and a moment later the cloud of steam had begun to be rather formidable. Jimmy undid the envelope's metal clasp and held the package over his infernal device, and they waited.
Tony held his breath as the glue on the envelope began to give way. Jimmy gingerly eased the flap open and folded it back so as not to leave any signs of tampering on the paper and then carefully shook the contents of the envelope onto the tabletop.
Tony's lips pursed in a silent whistle.
Stacks of hundred dollar bills, each neatly bound with a strip of paper. Perry White nodded, apparently unsurprised. "Stay where you are for a minute." He stepped backward and an instant later the blinds that blocked the view to the outer room came quietly down.
"There," White said. "You can move now. Didn't want anybody out there to see that." He picked up one of the stacks and riffled through it. "Looks like about twenty bills here in this stack, and there are ten stacks. Around twenty thousand dollars, I'd say. Somebody seems awfully eager to give you money, Tony."
"Yeah," Tony said, still a little awed. "But what for?"
"That," the editor said, "is what we're going to find out. I figure you're gonna get another phone call pretty soon. When it comes, you say you've still got the package but you haven't opened it yet, got it?"
Tony nodded. "Okay."
"And then we'll see where that leads," White continued. "In the meantime, I need to get hold of a friend of mine. What time did you say you work today?"
"I'm on from two until six this evening."
"Okay. In the meantime, you're gonna stay out of sight until we're ready. Why don't you and Jimmy hang out a bit today. Jim can show you some of what he does, since you'll probably be doin' some of it to start off with. I know it isn't the way you expected to spend Christmas Day, but this kinda thing doesn't stick with schedules." He gave a one-sided smile. "And the staff's holdin' a little Christmas party for the ones on duty tonight. It'll probably still be goin' when you get off, so that'll be a good reason for you to come back here, after work. Okay?"
Tony nodded. "Yes sir."
"I'll get back to you in a bit," White added. "Just as soon as I've figured out exactly what we're gonna do here. Oh yeah, I want you to find that thing in my office in a bit, Jimmy. Just put away this contraption of yours where you got it and get busy. I'll deal with this stuff."
"Yes sir, Mr. White," Jimmy said.
Tony followed Jimmy Olsen from the Conference room, leaving Perry White carefully returning the packets of money to the envelope. His instinct had been right, he thought. Perry White wasn't somebody who should ever be underestimated. He was feeling considerably better.
**********
Perry White had just been given considerable food for thought.
Tony Daus was a bright young man, a university student with no real connections to anything remotely important that even he could think of, according to what he said. Of course he could be wrong and there might be some great secret in his past that would make him valuable to someone, but Perry tended to discount what ifs.
This thing with the envelope had occurred right after he'd been hired at the Daily Planet. And Perry had conducted the interview right in his office with that dratted bug listening in, never thinking that Lex Luthor could possibly have any interest in a new hire at the newspaper.
But what if he did?
He'd been spying on them -- Lois and Clark had established that. That bug in Perry's private office was further evidence of it. He'd intended to remove the listening device yesterday, but changed his mind. Discovering the thing immediately after his conversation with Jimmy, when he'd informed the kid that he'd actually sent Lois on a special, undercover assignment, might have looked a bit suspicious. He'd intended to "find" the bug today.
So far, Luthor hadn't gotten anything of value worth the name from it. Maybe, Perry thought, he was dissatisfied with the information he'd so far been able to acquire with his electronic spy. Maybe he'd decided that a human spy on the inside would be more effective. He might be getting a little paranoid, but the things Lois and Clark had discovered in the last few weeks justified it. It wasn't paranoia, he thought half-humorously, when someone really was after you.
Of course, it could be something else, too. Lex Luthor could have nothing to do with it, but given the billionaire's involvement with the Planet recently, Perry was suspicious. In any case, however, he intended to find out what was going on and deal with it. Tony Daus had come to him for help and his investigative reporting instincts had kicked in reliably, as they always did, he thought, a little amused at the realization. He'd thought he'd channeled them into his new job, years ago when he'd taken over the position from his own editor. You learned something new every day.
The first thing, however, was to account for the bug. On the other hand, maybe he could use it first to throw a red herring or two into the mix, just for fun.
He sat knuckling his chin for several minutes, then rose and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
**********
Lois came down the farmhouse stairs much earlier on Christmas morning than she had the day before. She hadn't slept well, and her dreams seemed to have revolved around that chunk of green crystal most of the night. And, of course, she was hoping against hope that Clark's powers would have returned since the night before.
The sofa was clear of Clark's pillow and blankets, and she could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. The crash of something hitting the floor accompanied by the unmistakable musical sound of shattering glass made her hurry across the living room to the kitchen.
Clark glanced around as she entered the room. A broken juice glass and a small puddle of spilled orange juice lay at his feet.
"What happened?" she asked, and nearly kicked herself for the question. "Uh -- need some help?"
"I've got it." Clark knelt, a paper towel in his hand, beginning to mop up the spilled juice. "Ow!"
"Are you all right?" Lois hurried across the room, avoiding the puddle of juice and shards of broken glass.
Clark was looking at his finger, and the blood oozing from a tiny cut on the tip with an expression of shock. "I'm -- bleeding!"
"I guess that answers one question." Lois turned on the faucet and pushed his hand under the water. "Did you get glass in it?"
"I don't think so." Clark still looked almost shocked at the sight of his bleeding finger.
"Let me see." Lois turned off the water and dried his finger with a fresh paper towel. "Hold it in the light from the window so I can look."
Clark obeyed in silence while Lois examined the cut. "It looks all right," she said finally. "I don't see any glass. I think you just sliced it a little. Here. Hold this towel on it for a minute until it stops bleeding. I'll take care of the glass."
"I'll get it."
"Uh uh." Lois shook her head. "You're too used to being invulnerable. Better let me handle the sharp stuff, for now."
Clark examined his offended digit ruefully. "You've got a point, I guess. I think the bleeding is stopping."
"Good," Lois said. She began to carefully pick up the larger pieces of glass with another sheet of paper towel. "Where does your mom keep her broom and dustpan?"
"In the broom closet." Clark nodded toward a narrow closet by the back door.
"I was going to ask if your powers had shown any sign of returning, but I guess they haven't, yet," Lois said. She sopped up the worst of the orange juice, avoiding the tiny splinters, wadded up the sodden paper towels in another one and disposed of it in the trash.
"No, not yet." He sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "I just hope they're not gone permanently."
"Let's give it some time," Lois said, carefully sweeping the remaining glass into Martha Kent's dustpan. "It's only been a few hours. It takes me a week to get over a cold, and a lot longer for a broken leg or arm. It might take you a few days or more to get over this."
"The last time, I got over it as soon as I got away from it," Clark said.
"When -- oh, you mean in Shuster's Field a couple of weeks ago," Lois said. "But that was only a few seconds, and who knows how far away the stuff was from you. This was a lot worse. I don't think we should panic yet. You're just going to have to be careful until you recover; that's all."
There was a short pause, and then Clark smiled faintly. "You're probably right. But, after the Christmas presents are opened I want to give Rachel a call, just to be sure she's all right. And then we need to do some snooping around in town. If somebody is running some kind of criminal enterprise where they're willing to kill the County Sheriff, I don't think we can afford to wait until my powers come back."
It figured he hadn't forgotten that, Lois thought. Well, neither had she, although other events had taken precedence last night. She kept her inevitable reflections about Clark's vulnerability to herself. They no longer had Superman to help them, at least for now. She was just going to have to watch out for both of them until his powers returned.
**********
tbc
