part 4
***Metropolis
“Lois Lane with a gun. Dear God how I love irony. It’s too good, considering you’re basically the new Eve of Utopia. The mother of the most peaceful time in the history of the planet, and you’ve got a gun. I couldn’t have written it better myself, Lois.”
The door opened. He had a simple device, a key of some sort, a universal pass.
He held it up. “Discovered this in my travels. A real gem, darlin’. You’d like it. Comes in handy in all kinds of ways. Does Clark know?” He looked concerned. “About the gun?”
Tempus leaned against the doorframe casually.
Lois raised the gun, pointed it at his forehead.
“Where is he?” she growled. “What have you done to him?” He would have come the instant he’d heard her. If he had to fly off in the middle of a room full of witnesses, he would have done it without a second thought. He’d told her so, night after night, to get her to go back to sleep.
“If I have to spin into the Suit in front of every person I’ve ever known, I’ll do it gladly. Forget the secret, Lois.” She could almost hear his warm voice now. “*You* are what really matters. I can live without anything else.”
“Would you believe it’s just good timing?” Tempus grinned. “Happy accident? No? Ok, there’s a tragedy unfolding in one of those third world countries he’s so fond of. He’ll save hundreds today, but not the one that’s most important to him.” He moved into the room. “Now, I’m flattered, really. I can tell by the way you’re looking at me that you think I might be responsible. It’s just luck, or wait, maybe I just knew… from the history books, that today was the day, and the time was…now. Fate’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
“You seem awfully pleased with yourself, considering you’re about to die,” Lois told him.
“I’m working on a theory, Lois. And it’s just a theory. I’ve just now thought of it, so don’t grade me. If the mother of Utopia- Superman’s wife- kills, can she still be the mother of Utopia? Can she still be Superman’s wife? He would still be worshipped and adored, but she might be cast out of Eden. With the rest of us bloodthirsty mortals.”
He smiled widely at her.
“I have no idea what you’re babbling about.” Lois answered unsteadily, though there was an uncomfortable sort of resonance to his words.
“Don’t tell me Herb didn’t fill you in? Utopia? Superman and Lois Lane revered for all time? Your children and their children ushering in an age of…well, blah, blah, blah, you get the picture.” Tempus laughed. “You should see your face, darlin’. Have I hit a nerve? According to very public records, Utopia’s first offspring are due in the not too distant future.” He lowered his voice and continued in a confidential tone. “But just which Superman got to plant Eden’s first seed? It’s just the two of us, Lois. You can tell me.”
“Shut up,” she whispered. “Just shut up. And back up.”
“You too, darlin’,” he drawled. The window opened in the very spot it had in all of her nightmares. She darted away, towards him. He met her halfway across the room, tossing them both on the bed, bouncing them off the mattress and through. The gun clattered to the floor. The window closed.
She was gone.
***Metropolis2
Superman cut the ribbon with scissors and a wide smile. A smile not just for the cameras. Things were definitely looking up. He’d stay just long enough to shake some hands and kiss some babies, and then he’d go, he decided. Maybe pick up something for breakfast. She loved pastries from Athens, and he could just dart by and see what was fresh.
Superman eyed all the assembled dignitaries with less than his usual patience.
<I’ve got a life of my own, now> he thought inwardly, with some satisfaction. < A life that’s all mine, with a woman who is….> He came up short. Was it unfair to Lois, his former wife, to think of this life as his own? Did he really feel that the year he’d spent with her wasn’t his? That it was simply borrowed? Borrowed from the other Clark Kent? He couldn’t deny that sometimes he wondered if he’d ever really been married to Lois. Or if he’d just been the proxy, the stand-in for a man who couldn’t be there in the flesh, but who had always been there, nonetheless.
<That isn’t fair> he berated himself. Not fair to what he and Lois had built together. Not fair to her memory. She had changed his life. The proof of that was all around him. He was standing here in red boots and a cape cutting a ribbon for a good cause, and no one, no one was looking at him with anything other than appreciation or admiration. Some even looked a bit awed.
Could he have even imagined such a thing before Lois Lane landed in his universe? No. Not in his wildest dreams. He might have imagined an assembled crowd like this one, but they’d have torches and pitchforks, they’d be pointing and shouting. Running him out of town.
Superman nodded politely as the last speaker praised him for all he had done for the city. Then he stepped forward and made his excuses. Something important he needed to do.
Breakfast with Lane. He couldn’t think of anything more important than that. He’d kissed her before he left. A habit they were slowly working themselves into. A habit he wanted to keep firmly in place.
When she had first agreed to step into Lois’ shoes and continue the charade of the Lane-Kent partnership in everyway, he’d been surprised. He had expected to be divorced before HG Wells blinked out of their living room.
But instead, Lane had been all business. Marching off to the bathroom and only returning when her hair, which had been down past her waist, was as short as the departed Lois’.
“In for a penny…” she’d pronounced. And then proceeded to tell him just how exactly things were going to work. She would take the bed. He the sofa. She would ride in to work with him, or, ok, fly, and even hold his hand in the elevator if that was how he and his wife had done it. She would eat lunch with him and speak as nicely to him as she could manage when there were witnesses. And she needed a ring, and not *her* ring. Her own ring. And she would pick it. And then, she finally finished, after an acceptable amount of time they would discuss a separation, an amicable one, she assured him, nothing that might effect their work relationship.
He had signed on gladly. It had been so much more than he’d expected.
And now, it looked like they were getting somewhere. If he could make her understand that she was who he saw when he looked at her, that she was who he…had this crazy, dizzying, miserable…love for, then maybe she would admit to…liking him?
For the thousandth time he wondered how Lois was doing back in her world with her Clark. He hoped she had made the transition smoothly. That he had welcomed her back with open arms. That she was happy. Like he intended to be.
***
Lane stayed where she was, sipping her coffee and trying to still the rapid pounding of her heart. She had finally voiced what she’d wanted to since their first day alone together as “husband and wife.” She had told him she wasn’t Lois. Not that Lois. And Clark had known just exactly what she meant. He hadn’t forced her into an uncomfortable explanation of her feelings. He’d just turned with his heart in his face, and said the exact thing she needed to hear. ‘I know who you are.’
“Good that one of us does,” she sighed into her mug.
She should really get up and get dressed. He’d be back soon, and she didn’t want him to find her here, still rumpled and wearing her robe. If they were going to approach the conversation that had been coming for some time, she at least needed to have brushed her hair. And maybe she’d just arm herself with the slightest bit of make-up. Not that it mattered. He had seen it all during the time they’d had together. If she was made-up or passed out cold, he never seemed to notice any difference. The look in his eyes when he spoke to her, when he watched her- and she knew he did- never changed. That was both disconcerting and wonderfully…comforting. Nice, even. And that was all. She wasn’t ready to admit to anything else just now. Not that there was anything else. But if there were anything else, she just wasn’t ready to say so…exactly.
Lane was coaxing her lazy form to get up and moving yet again, when the time window opened in her kitchen.
“HG,” she growled, hopping to her feet, “if you’re here to predict the outcome of today’s conversation….” Her voice trailed off. The man in front of her wasn’t Wells. She didn’t know who he was, but he seemed pleased to find her, and he was holding…her.
“You ever heard the phrase ‘walk a mile in my shoes,’ Lois?” he greeted her. “I’m guessing that you, more than most, know exactly what that’s like.”
He dropped her mirror image to the floor and moved towards her.
“Tempus,” Lane breathed. “You’re Tempus.”
“Nice to meet you,” he acknowledged.
“What…? And who…?” Her gaze moved to the unconscious woman on her kitchen floor.
“I thought you two knew each other?” He seemed genuinely concerned. “I hope I haven’t committed an embarrassing faux paus. This is the ex-wife, isn’t it?”
“Lois!” Lane called, moving towards the prone woman. “What have you done to her? What kind of sick…?”
She didn’t get any further. He grabbed her and the window reopened. “Want to take a little trip?” he asked politely. “Just for fun? See how the shoe feels on the other foot? I thought it might be interesting. And lately, well, I’ve been a tad bored.”
***
Lois got to her feet in time to see the window shimmer and start to flicker. Through bleary eyes she could clearly make out two forms within it, and the time device still clutched in Tempus’ fist. She had nothing to lose. So, she did what Lois Lanes do. She dove, not letting herself consider for a moment the consequences of being caught half in and half out of a dimension window. If her upper body would land in one world and the rest of her the other. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the rapidly closing window and the hard outline of the device that controlled it.
The other Lois Lane was struggling in Tempus’ grip. Lois itched to get her hands on him. If she could pull him out, even if the window closed on them both here-wherever here was- that would do. Because she would have stopped him, stopped the nightmare.
“Help me!” she roared to her twin who was watching her through horrified eyes.
She lunged with all the strength she had, sending a wordless prayer into the heavens for her baby. She made contact with something. It was hard to see in the swirl and clash of lights and sounds, but she reached something just as the window closed and she crashed to the floor. Whatever it was, though, it wasn’t enough. Everything stopped and she was alone.
She didn’t even get any parting words this time.
Lois stayed where she was, gasping for air, determinedly holding herself together.
“Do not panic,” she told herself in what was supposed to be a calming voice. She didn’t like the sound of it, so she tried again. “Do not panic.” Better.
She had a fleeting vision of Clark. Of his coming home and finding her gone again. Lois squelched the image as soon as it was born. It was too hard, too impossible. He’d never survive this. He’d kill himself with blame, with worry, with the loss of her and the baby. She wouldn’t think about him just now.
She remembered well how ill the time-dimension travel had made her on her first trip…out of the world, so she didn’t hurry. Didn’t try to open her eyes, access her surroundings, or move, until she felt the floor she was sitting on stop swaying.
In a way, it was oddly comforting that the worst had happened. No more waiting around for it. No more dreading the inevitable encounter with Tempus. She had faced him and hadn’t crumpled. She hadn’t exactly emerged victorious, but she was ok, in one piece, the baby, too. And she’d done this before. Only the first time she’d had to learn what had happened to her the hard way. This time she knew. Knowing made all the difference.
Lois took a serious of deep breaths. This was it. Whatever or wherever or whenever it was, time to get a look. Time to see the hand she’d been dealt. She opened her eyes, proud that she had talked herself into it so quickly. And to her almost joyous, utter relief, Lois knew exactly where she was. She was home again, so to speak.
Tempest, no doubt in hopes of further torturing two tortured couples, hadn’t cast her into the wilderness of an entirely new universe. He’d…returned her.
“Probably his idea of irony,” she muttered ruefully.
On wobbly legs, Lois moved into the living room. It hadn’t changed, but then it hadn’t been that long since she’d left it. Not nearly as long as it felt. She lowered herself into the nearest chair. She’d wait until the dizziness passed, she reasoned, and then she’d call Clark at work. Tell him…guess what?
Just then she heard the sonic boom. No need to call. He was coming. Her husband was home.
***
“Hey,” he breezed in, spun, and kept walking, placing a take-out bag of some sort on the table. “Didn’t I say that would be quick?” He looked very pleased with himself, Lois noted. And he moved with more confidence than she remembered. Maybe it was that he’d had more time in the Suit. Or maybe it was because he’d found Lane. His Lois. Someone to love him as much as he did her.
“You got dressed,” he remarked as he moved to kiss her. Lois turned her head slightly, let those familiar lips land just a bit off target.
“Clark,” she started. “Sit down, ok?”
He sank onto the sofa and reached a hand out to her. “No fighting, ok? Let’s just see if we can do this without…well, let’s just see if we can do this.” His voice was all soft appeal.
Is that how things were for him now? Did that Lois fight with him? Was she that mean? <And you shut up,> she told her inner voice, who was on the verge, she knew, of speaking up and saying something cliché about the pot and the kettle. <Clark and I are entirely different. I am not unkind. And we only fight when he’s…wrong.>
Lois’ inner voice wisely retreated.
She moved just a bit unsteadily to the sofa, pretending not to see his outstretched hand, putting some space between them. After a pause she moved one of the throw pillows between them. Another one. Small little wall of cushions. No real reason.
Clark was watching her with amusement in his face. But wisely, she recognized, was waiting for her to start.
“You don’t know it’s me, do you, Clark?” she finally broke the silence.
His small smile froze, and then his face started to change. Nothing else. He held completely still. If she had x-ray vision, Lois imagined she could see the furious turning of wheels inside his head.
“Tell me,” he said, after what felt like an eternity, “that Lane put you up to this. That she found or made her own time device and is proving an awful point.”
“Once you said something very similar to me. You thought that Lana Lang had sent me to teach you a lesson.”
He leaned towards her, dismantling her protective wall in one easy swipe. He placed his hands alongside her face, pulling her towards him, meeting her half way. For a frantic, insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he just studied her intently with deep brown eyes that betrayed no thoughts.
“Lois Lane,” he murmured. “You’re back.”
“Yes,” she answered sadly, dreading what would come next. He didn’t let her down.
“Oh god, Lane,” he swore under his breath. “Lane!” he yelled, leaping to his feet. He moved through the apartment at a blur, repeatedly calling her name.
Lois held her breath, trying not to imagine her own Clark doing the very same thing at this moment.
She waited until he was done. It wasn’t long. She didn’t look at his face when he came back to sit next to her.
“Tell me,” he finally said in rigidly controlled voice.
“We’ve been switched, I think” she replied, letting out her breath. “From what I could gather, from what Tempus said…” She paused on Clark’s uttered expletive, dark and menacing. “I’m here and she’s…”
“With your Clark?” He sounded very calm now. It had to be the shock. But then again, they had both done this before.
“Yes.”
“Well.” He dropped his head back onto the sofa. “I sure didn’t see that coming.”
“We can talk about that divorce now, if you’d like.”
He smiled ruefully at her. “Before I’ve had my breakfast? I don’t think so, Loes.”
She hadn’t heard that nickname in what felt like a long time. A whole other lifetime ago.
He stood up from the sofa and moved towards the kitchen. “Can I offer you something? Tea?” He was the picture of the polite host, not the least bit ruffled by his unexpected company. As if he had simply drained himself of any anger or worry. As if he was numb.
“Do you still have the-”
“Yeah,” he answered. “You got me into the habit. I’ll get it. You rest. I remember you said that last time the trip left you sick for days.”
He disappeared around the corner.
Lois kicked her shoes off and propped her feet on the coffee table. “It wasn’t as bad this time,” she called to him. “Tempus told me that the first time, said it was always the hardest, or something like that. And turns out he was right.
“Good,” he called back pleasantly, as if they were discussing the local commute in heavy traffic.
“And the similarities of morning sickness and dimension-hopping are uncanny,” she muttered to herself.
There was a loud clatter from the kitchen. Lois clamped her hand over her mouth. Never, she berated herself, never, ever mutter out loud in the presence of a Kryptonian.
Clark’s head peeked around the corner at her. “I…dropped the pot,” he stated. “How…pregnant…are you?”
Lois let her hand fall away from her treacherous mouth, leaned her head back, and contemplated the ceiling.
She heard him move towards her, felt the dip in the seat next to her. One gentle hand came to cover her tightly clenched ones in her lap.
He didn’t speak, and she knew he wouldn’t. They knew each other. Got along so well and always had. With none of the disappointments or blow-ups or hurts that seemed to characterize her relationship with her own Clark, and evidently his with Lane. This Clark she could always say anything to. Her own Clark? He swore that she could, but she sometimes didn’t dare risk it. Not that she didn’t trust him. Just that she couldn’t hurt him, not for anything. And she couldn’t fathom losing him. But most of all she couldn’t risk having him come to his senses, and make for the nearest exit at supersonic speeds.
They sat like that for sometime. Lois relaxed her clenched fists, turned her palm over and he slid his hand into hers.
“I’m sorry, Lois,” he said in a low voice. And she knew that by her silence, she had given him all the answer he needed. He could read her like she was made of glass. Absolutely see-thru.
The tears, which she hadn’t allowed herself to shed over the baby and the baffling question of its parentage, and everything else, came quickly. This was a major difference as well. From the very first day, this Clark saw all her vulnerability, all her weaknesses. Part of that was due to the circumstances of their meeting. He’d been home for her when she was lost. But part of it was something else entirely. She didn’t feel the need to hold up in front of him. To show that she was strong so he wouldn’t worry or blame himself for her fragile state. In so many ways it was much simpler with this Clark.
Maybe Tempus had gotten it right the first time? Maybe she belonged here with him.
A sob rose in her throat. She didn’t stifle it. He pulled her towards him, rocking and whispering soothing words in her ear.
“I…don’t know,” she finally choked out. “The father…”
“Ok,” Clark said. “Ok, Lois. It’s ok.”
“It isn’t, and it never will be,” she sobbed. “How can it be? We’ll never know. There is no way to know. And Clark, my Clark, will wonder for the rest of his life whose baby we’re raising, and he’ll never say so.”
“Assuming you get back, Lois,” Clark told her gently. “Assuming a lot, actually. That HG is awake and paying attention. That Tempus can be…stopped for good. And that you…want to go back?”
“I was just thinking that! How did you know?” she demanded, horrified.
“Because I know you. Let’s not start pretending with each other now.” He leaned her back onto the sofa, picked up a piece of her discarded pillow wall, which had crumpled in record time, and placed it under her head. “And because I’ve been known to have the same thought from time to time, Loes. This is so much…easier,” he added with a sigh, giving her the uneasy feeling that he’d become psychic in her absence.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lois stated firmly.
“No kidding? Can’t imagine why not. Look, I’m getting you some tea. Hungry? No...ok. Just tea. And then we regroup and get a handle on things.”
With that he moved into the kitchen. Lois closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the water running, the mugs clicking on the counter top, the jingle of the spoon stirring in the cups. They had fallen back in right where they had left off. At the end of a long day she would come home, flop down and kick off her shoes, and he, the one who naturally had more energy, would bound into the kitchen, calling out to her what he was making, comparing notes on their current article. All very friendly and comfortable. And simple. So simple. So much easier than the uneasy home she shared with her Clark. A home full of fear, and unspoken things, and desperate longing on both sides for a way around the obstacles that always seemed between them. She loved her Clark absolutely. And had no doubt of his love for her. It had been proved to her over and over. And yet, at times they were miles apart. And in pain, both of them.
“Tea, Lois,” said Clark breaking into her disquieting thoughts. “Tea, and then we-,” he bent and rapped the coffee table, emphasizing each word, “-get down to business. Cards on the table.” A standing joke between them.
“You left more knuckle prints on that you know?” she said irritably, getting up and taking the steaming mug.
“That’s not your problem anymore, is it?” he answered flippantly.
***Metropolis
Lane spilled into the room. The window closed. She heard a long series of muttered curses accompanied by the sounds of footsteps all around her. At some point the door slammed, causing her ears to ring. That was her last thought before she slipped into oblivion.
Some time later, she had no idea how long, she was able to open her eyes. She searched the room groggily from the heap she was on the floor. Seeing a sofa near by, she slowly, painfully crawled towards it. The nausea and dizziness almost stopped her. Sweating and gritting her teeth, she gratefully sank into the cushions, pulling a throw over herself to fight the chill.
Where was she? What had happened? Through bleary eyes, she spotted a picture over the mantle. It was of her and Clark. Weird. She didn’t remember having that taken. Didn’t remember that suit she was wearing. In fact, she didn’t think she would wear that rag on a dare. But there they were, smiling down at her miserable, huddled form. The happily married couple. She should have never left the Congo. Seriously. Things were a bit routine there, not really varying day in and day out. But they made sense.
Lois closed her eyes. Maybe a fast nap, and then everything would sort of…be cleared up. The ringing in her ears was making it impossible for her to concentrate. This was a comfy sofa. Nice place, really. She and Clark should maybe look into getting something bigger. No…no. That was the crazy side of her talking, she frowned. That would imply that they were staying together…and she only just liked him…the littlest bit.
She opened one eye, looked back at the picture to better see Clark’s friendly smile. He had his hand around her waist and was holding a…newspaper…it looked liked. She was holding up the other side, beaming into the lens. When had they…? Their first article, maybe? No, only the two of them had even known that was their first article. And that headline…she squinted. ‘Lois Lane Returns- Amnesia Victim.’ Well, that was patently untrue. She had never had amnesia in her life! Actually, sometimes the thought of it was appealing. Just forget everything…start over. A whole new life. A whole new world. Everything new to discover…why was that thought unsettling?
Lois sat up, waves of nausea rolled over her. Very gingerly she returned to the cushions. The window. Tempus. The other Lois. They’d been switched. She was here. And Lois was there. On that thought, she fainted but good.
tbc...
