PREVIOUSLY...
He heard Shadow whimper softly as he began pawing at the bedroom door. “You and me both, pal,” he said sadly before turning towards the couch. It seemed that was to be his bed tonight. A fitting end for the complete disaster this day had become.AND NOW...
* * * * * * * * *
Wednesday
* * * * * * * * *The buzzing of the alarm clock woke Lois after a fitful night. She reached over, as she always did these days. Only today the man who normally occupied the other side was absent. His spot wasn’t even warm. Opening her eyes, she saw what her hand had already told her. Clark’s side of the bed hadn’t been slept in.
She sighed.
Right. Their fight.
Could he have been serious last night when he’d suggested they should break up? They’d both said things last night they probably shouldn’t have said. Still, surely he hadn’t been serious.
Well, there was little point lying here, fretting. Pushing back the covers, she crawled out of bed. After taking a moment to wrap her robe around her, she walked out of her room and looked around. The bathroom door stood open. A neatly-folded blanket and pillow were lying on one side of the couch. But nowhere was the man in question. What?
Confusion was replaced by fear. Had he already moved out? In the middle of the night! Without so much as a goodbye! Fear was replaced by anger.
Well, she wasn’t about to hang around here, hoping he’d return. She stormed into the bathroom to have a shower. Besides, he might intend to stick his head in the sand while Mayson fired shots at the rest of him, but Lois did not. While she’d been trying to fall asleep the previous night, she’d had some ideas. And she intended to follow up on them this morning - with or without the lunkhead she lived with!
* * * * * * * * *
Lois pushed her way through the crowd of reporters that had gathered outside the front doors of her apartment building and forced her way to the door of her jeep. She kept tight control of her tongue, knowing how easily she could be provoked into saying more than she intended. Even ‘no comment’ sounded wrong to her ears. So instead she focused on getting to her vehicle as question after question was flung in her direction.
“Does he live up to the title Man of Steel in bed?”
Lois spun around when that question penetrated her consciousness, her mouth open to reply. Her eyes landed on a reporter for the Dirt Digger who had asked the question, Samantha Richards, before her mind caught up with her and she bit back her response. Damn! Least Clark could have done was been here to endure this with her! Directing her anger at him allowed her to finally get inside her jeep. Spinning her tires as she left the curb, it gave her a great deal of satisfaction to see paparazzi flinging themselves out of the way to avoid being hit.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois was even more furious by the time she worked her jeep through the crowd at the Daily Planet to enter the parking lot. From there, the trip was fairly normal - if she ignored the looks other Planet employees gave her as she rode up in the elevator.
Stepping out into the newsroom, her eyes automatically searched out Clark’s desk. She was surprised he wasn’t there.
Still, now was not the time to be worrying about Clark. She had another mission on her mind. Or, well, two actually. Spotting her first target, she strode determinedly down the ramp and into the bullpen.
“Eduardo,” she said, attracting her co-worker’s attention immediately. “I understand Perry gave you the story about Clark supposedly being Superman.” She didn’t wait for him to confirm before continuing. “You might want to interview these people.” She handed him a piece of paper.
“The first is Dr. Scott who is the doctor who treated Clark when was blinded in a welding accident almost six weeks after Mayson claims that Superman was blinded,” Lois continued. “The second is the Sheriff in Smallville. She saw Clark earlier that same day and can confirm that he could see when she met with him before the accident. The last name is a Captain Stiller. Clark paid for his passage across the Atlantic by working on freighters. You might want to see if you can track him down. So what else have you found?”
“Good morning to you too, Lois,” Eduardo drawled.
Lois rolled her eyes.
“Thanks for these. As for what other leads I might be pursuing... I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
When she narrowed her eyes at him, he just kept his level gaze on her.
“I suppose you’ve asked yourself what Mayson’s motive might be for coming up with this garbage,” she finally said. “She’s a woman scorned. Clark chose me and so she’s trying to get even with him.”
He just raised his eyebrows.
Finally, knowing she wasn’t getting anywhere with Eduardo, she growled before stomping off towards her second destination. Perry’s office.
“Morning, Lois,” Perry said when she stormed into the office. “Where’s your better half?”
“How should I know? I’m not his mother.”
Perry’s eyebrows rose, but that didn’t stop her. She was on a mission.
“Perry, I want to resume my investigation into Intergang.”
“I thought you and Clark were following up on the attempt on Mayson Drake’s life,” Perry growled.
“Clark can do that. I doubt Mayson will tell us anything, especially if I’m there, so you don’t need both of us covering that story. And I want to take a look at the files we got from Martin Snell as well as pursue some other leads I think might help us break the Intergang story.”
Perry pursed his fingers together as he stared at her, as if trying to look into her mind. But since she didn’t particularly care what he might think he was seeing there, she met his gaze, not giving an inch.
“Guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at those files,” Perry finally admitted. “And since it keeps you away from Mayson Drake, I guess that’s not a bad thing either.”
Lois didn’t respond. After all, it wasn’t likely to do her cause much good if she told him that she was hoping to find a link between Mayson and Intergang that might help discredit the woman. Oh, she didn’t think that Mayson was working for Intergang. Mayson’s help in breaking open the Martin Snell case was proof enough of that. But her relationship with Bill Church did make Lois wonder if she was being prodded on in her irrational dislike of Superman by her relationship with the head of Intergang.
“And Clark?” she asked, knowing she couldn’t do what she needed with Clark looking over her shoulder.
“I’ll keep him on the story about the attempt on Drake’s life,” Perry said. “For some reason, I suspect less people are likely to end up dead that way.”
* * * * * * * * *
It took Lois some time to get everything in place. The pen Jimmy got from Spies R Us the previous fall. Signing out one of the Daily Planet vehicles. A trench coat which had been hanging in the locker rooms since before Lois had started working at the Planet and a baseball cap, which she managed to borrow, after much belly-aching from Pete in Sports. Calling to find the hospital where Bill Church Sr. was currently admitted. As well as calling Fred the Forger, a place that rented professional uniforms and her hairdresser.
In all that time, she kept a covert eye out for her errant partner, afraid that he might arrive to discover what she was up to before she had time to put her plan into action. Still, by the time all the pieces were put in place, there was still no sign of Clark. It occurred to her to wonder where he might be, but she quickly decided that he could take care of himself. Besides, chances were that he’d just decided to spend the night in Smallville. If he wasn’t back by the time she returned, she’d call the Kents.
As long as he wasn’t out apartment hunting. She felt a chill run through her.
“What’s the old trench coat and ball cap for?” Jimmy asked, stopping by her desk and, thankfully, pulling Lois out of her depressing thoughts.
“Same thing I intend to use the Daily Planet clunker for,” she responded as she proceeded to gather up her things, tucking her small recorder in one of the pockets of the oversized trench coat. “To sneak out of the Daily Planet without attracting the attention of the vultures out front.” Pulling her hair up, she pushed it under the ball cap and pulled the collar of the coat up to obscure her face. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she needed something else. “Jimmy, do you have a pair of sunglasses I can borrow?”
Jimmy immediately smiled. “Sure thing,” he said before trotting off to get the requested item, glad to be part of the subterfuge. As she waited, she had one further idea. Walking over to Clark’s desk, she opened it, finding, much to her surprise, what she was looking for. It seemed some habits died hard.
“Thanks, Jimmy,” she said, quickly sticking the pilfered item in her pocket and closing the drawer when Jimmy returned with the sunglasses. She slipped them on her face. “Oh, and if anyone asks... And I mean anyone...” She glanced pointedly at Clark’s desk. “You have no idea where I went.”
“But...” Jimmy began to Lois’ retreating back. “I really don’t have any idea where you’re going.”
“Good, boy,” she said with a glance over her shoulder before turning her attention towards her upcoming mission.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark pulled Shadow to a stop when he arrived at the entrance to an alley behind the Daily Planet.
When he hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night, he’d started to think about Leit and Munch’s comments about his eye sight. Although he was unable to get answers directly from them, he now knew that they had expected his eyesight to return. So that meant... more time in the sun must be required.
Since it was dark outside, he’d flown to an island south of France he’d discovered in his travels, landing in an isolated spot just as the sun was beginning to rise. As he had lain in the sun, staring blindly up at it, he’d fallen asleep, Shadow curled up beside him - only to awaken some time later when Shadow barked to scare away some curious birds... He thought they might have been flamingos from the sounds they made, although without his sight, it was hard to be certain. ...that had come to investigate the strange visitors.
It was only then that Clark had realized that he was late. Very late. What must Lois have thought when she’d woken in the morning to find him missing? What must Perry be thinking now?
So he’d instantly flown back to the Daily Planet, landing in a deserted alley, intending to use the suit he kept in the locker room to save himself the trip home.
But as he was about to step out of the alley and onto the street in front of the Daily Planet, he heard the commotion of a large number of people milling around outside the building. He stopped, wondering if the printers had walked off the job or something. They were in negotiations at the moment, so he supposed it was possible. He took one more step forward before he suddenly understood. They were waiting for him. And if they were here... there must be some waiting outside the apartment as well.
Damn. He should have thought of that.
Well, he wasn’t about to confirm his Superman status by default, so... An instant later, a very startled dog gave an indignant yelp as Clark broke through the cloud cover hovering over Metropolis. He would have to go to work like everyone else - and that meant starting from home. Besides, now that he thought about it, hadn’t he worn the suit he kept in the locker room home the day before yesterday?
* * * * * * * * *
Getting to work had been a nightmare. He’d called a cab from the apartment before going downstairs, knowing that hailing a cab would be impossible while trying to negotiate his way through the throng of people gathered outside the building, if he could manage it at all without his eyesight.
The other tenants were going to love those crowds.
Still, even by taking the precaution of calling for a cab, it had been near impossible to locate it with people pushing in on all sides, shouting questions at him as if he were deaf and not blind. Shadow had whimpered a couple of times as he’d tried to push the two of them through the crowd in what he hoped was the direction of the cab.
Finally, he’d shouted above the hoards, “Can someone please tell me where my cab is?”
The crowd had gone silent for the briefest of moments before seeming to realize he was helpless to escape and pressing their advantage. Question after question. Demand after demand.
Shadow growled and then began to snap, startling a few of the more relentless among the reporters enough that they stepped back. A hand on his arm and a quiet voice of a woman in his ear claiming that she would take him to his cab had been a relief. Only when someone yelled, “Nice going, Samantha,” had he realized that he was being led away from the crowd by a reporter for the Dirt Digger, Samantha Richards. He pulled away quickly.
Shadow snapped.
“Hey, that dog almost bit me!” exclaimed Samantha.
“Mr. Kent? You called for a cab?”
A new voice was heard in the pandemonium surrounding him. Cautiously, Clark turned towards the sound. A man was standing beside a running vehicle. Clark carefully inched his way over to the man, hoping this wasn’t another trick. He should have given the cab company a secret password or something.
He could hear the door of a car opening and approached slowly.
“How do I know you’re really a cab driver?” he asked.
“Look, mister. You getting in or not,” the man responded. “‘Cause if not, I got another fare waiting for me.”
Just then, directions to another location came in over the radio in the man’s car.
Clark gestured Shadow in and then quickly entered the cab himself, so quickly in fact that he hit his head on the frame of the car. He immediately touched the spot, relieved to discover that he hadn’t hit it hard enough to leave a dent - that was just what he didn’t need in front of a crowd of reporters determined to know if he was Superman. He grimaced slightly, just in case anyone had seen him hit his head. He was going to have to learn to be more careful.
He only dared to breathe a sigh of relief when the cab pulled away from the curb and the sound of shouted questions was left behind - none of which had anything to do with him hitting his head.
Once they arrived at the Daily Planet, Clark removed his billfold, feeling the bills, folded in a manner suggested to him during his first trip to the Metropolis Center for the Blind, to find the correct money to give the driver, being sure to include a healthy tip to make up for the problems he’d given the man at the other end. Still, the speed at which the driver sped away once Clark disembarked told him that the man was probably calling the cab company to suggest that if a Mr. Kent called in the future, he be given another driver.
Getting into the Daily Planet had been a little better. Even more reporters were gathered here, but security had been pretty quick to respond when it became obvious that he had arrived, leading him swiftly into the building. He suspected he had Perry to thank for that courtesy.
Clark squatted down next to Shadow as the elevator rose to the newsroom, trying to calm the disgruntled canine. Shadow was trained to ignore external distractions, but he doubted any dog could be tamed to the point of ignoring the hoards that had assaulted them on the trip here.
The elevator doors slid open before Clark was really ready and so, when he stepped out, he had to take a moment just to calm his own frazzled nerves. He was here. That was the important thing. More than two hours late, perhaps, but he had made it.
“Hey, Kent,” Ralph said as he stepped up to the elevator, holding the door open so that he could talk to Clark before boarding himself. “Or should I call you Superman?” Ralph added with a laugh.
“Not now, Ralph,” Clark said, trying to keep control of his temper as he quickly brushed past his colleague, his attempts to recover his equilibrium after his trip to the Planet completely obliterated.
“Oh, and congrats on thawing the Ice Queen,” Ralph called after him. “I heard that you two are shacked up together.”
Clark took a couple quick steps towards the stairs, trying to escape Ralph. A quick correction by Shadow was the only thing that managed to keep him from tumbling into the bullpen. He took a deep breath, relaxing slightly when he heard the elevator doors slide shut behind him, taking Ralph out of the newsroom.
Pushing his obnoxious colleague out of his mind, Clark stretched out with his senses, automatically looking for Lois, but could locate no sign of her.
He carefully tapped his way down into the bullpen and over to Lois’ desk. The lack of a hum from the computer told him that it wasn’t turned on. By running his hand over her desk, he knew she hadn’t been there long, if at all, that morning. Lois’ filing style was unique in that everything she worked on during a day tended to be spread out in a mess covering every corner of her desk. Then, at the end of the day, she’d simply swipe all of it into her top drawer - only to dig each piece she needed out again when it was required the next day. No mess meant no Lois.
But they were supposed to be following up on the story about the attempt on Mayson’s life today. So... where was she? Unless... Oh, no. She wouldn’t have gone to interview Mayson alone, would she? That was a nightmare waiting to happen.
Oh, his money was on Lois walking away from such a confrontation alive. Problem was, he wasn’t nearly as confident she would walk away from the resulting murder charge as easily.
He could hear Jimmy rushing past his spot.
“Hey, Jimmy. Do you know where Lois is?”
“Uhh... no. I mean, not really. I’m not supposed to say.”
“Come on, Jim. She didn’t mean not to tell me.”
“Uhh... yeah, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to tell you most of all.”
Uh oh. “Jimmy,” Clark said warningly.
Jimmy crumbled. “I honestly don’t know where she is, C.K. But she told me not to tell anyone anything anyway. And I’m pretty sure you were the one she specifically didn’t want me to tell.”
With that, Jimmy scurried away. Clark considered stopping Jimmy, pressing for more information, but quickly rejected the idea. Jimmy didn’t know anything. If he had, he would have completely broken by now. The one thing Jimmy couldn’t keep was a secret.
But where was Lois? And why hadn’t she wanted him to know where she was going? That could only mean one of two things, Clark knew. Either she was still mad enough at him that she didn’t want him around. Quite possible after last night... and his absence again this morning. Or... she had gone to confront Mayson. Or... she was doing something she knew he would consider dangerous. Okay, so maybe that was three things.
Still, since they were supposed to be following up on the attempted murder story, Lois’ absence left him at a distinct disadvantage.
There was only one thing to do. He turned and began tapping his way towards Perry’s office.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois took a final look at herself in the rearview mirror of the Daily Planet clunker she’d borrowed for today’s mission. Perfect. She looked absolutely perfect. The long red wig she’d borrowed from her hairdresser and the glasses she’d stolen from Clark’s desk went a long way towards changing her appearance.
She thought about the glasses for a moment. When no one had suspected that Clark was Superman, no one would think to check to see if there was more than clear glass in his glasses. But now... She’d have to tell Clark to put them away somewhere where no one could find them until this was all over. Because this would end. She intended to make sure of that.
She adjusted the mirror downwards, spotting first the forged name tag she’d picked up from Freddy the Forger identifying her as Wanda Detroit, janitorial staff. Her first idea had been to go in disguised as a doctor or nurse, but she had been concerned that she might unexpectedly find herself in a position where she was expected to give medical assistance. And besides, janitorial staff had not only almost as much access as medical staff, they had the added bonus of being practically invisible.
The only real concern she had was that the only janitorial outfit she’d been able to get her hands on looked more like green doctor’s scrubs than the more muted green uniform of the Metropolis General Hospital janitorial staff. Still, beggars couldn’t necessarily be choosers. And hopefully she’d fit in well enough that no one would notice.
She got out of the car and locked up before walking confidently into Metropolis General. A quick trip to Information and she had Bill Church’s room number. Then a trip to the large diagram of the hospital displayed in the main lobby helped her come up with a workable plan.
Jimmy’s spy pen had a range of about five hundred feet. Lois thought back to when Jimmy had first purchased the pen. He’d left it on her desk so that he could listen in on her conversation from the other side of the room. He had told her then that the pen had a range of about five hundred feet. It hadn’t worked for her, however, when she’d tried to use it to spy on Lenny Stokes because she’d accidently set it to radio. So she checked it to be sure it was properly set this time.
And since there was a storage room directly below Bill Church’s hospital room, she had no doubt that the pen would be able to pick up what she needed and transfer it to the room below. There were only two things she needed to do now. First, break into the storage room and second, plant the pen in Bill Church’s hospital room.
Given how close Mayson was with Bill Church - as if she considered the older man a father figure - Lois she had no doubt that Mayson would be visiting him sometime today and Lois was very curious what that conversation might sound like following Mayson’s interview the previous day. Anything else she managed to pick up would be a bonus.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark left Perry’s office still unclear about who had suggested that he and Lois work on different stories. Perry had even trailed off into Elvis territory once, something about a fight between Elvis and Priscilla, although Clark had to admit, he hadn’t really been listening.
Still, it could have been either Lois or Perry’s idea to separate them. After all, having Lois working on a story that would likely involve some contact with Mayson was pretty much like combining gasoline and fire. On the other hand, Lois was upset enough that she may have requested this change of assignment. Problem was, he couldn’t quite see Lois passing up on a chance to meet with Mayson.
And speaking of Mayson... Clark took a deep breath before picking up the phone. With police interviews and such, he hadn’t had a chance to ask Mayson who might be targeting her the other night. A lot had happened since then. Still, since he was the injured party, surely if he showed that he was willing to be civil, she’d follow suit.
When he’d first met Mayson, she had given him not only the number for the D.A.’s office, but also the number for her direct line and her home number. He’d never made use of her home number, but her direct line had come in handy on several occasions over the succeeding months. So he didn’t need to look up her number or, worse, try calling her through the receptionist at the D.A.’s office - where she would be told who was on the line and could pretend not to be there.
The phone only rang once before...
“Mayson Drake.”
For a moment, Clark couldn’t find his voice. Why hadn’t he thought beyond placing the call to what he was actually going to say?
“Hello?” Mayson said.
The realization that she might be about to hang up snapped Clark out of his stupor. “Hi, Mayson. It’s me. Uhh... Clark... Clark Kent.” Damn. Could that have been any lamer?
Now it seemed that Mayson was the one unable to find her voice.
“Listen, Mayson, the reason I called...”
“I don’t think we should be talking about this.”
“No, wait. Don’t hang up. I didn’t call about that.”
“So then why did you call?” she asked suspiciously.
“The attempt on your life.”
“That’s not your concern.”
“Yes, it is.”
“And just how do you figure that?”
“Two reasons. First, I’m worried about you. Mayson, someone is trying to kill you.”
“Like I said, it’s not your concern.”
“Just promise me that you’re taking precautions.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “And second, Perry wants the story.”
“Uhh... so now we get to the real reason you called. You’re after the story. You don’t give a damn about me. In fact, now that you know I can’t be ‘bought’ by saving my life, you probably wish they had succeeded in killing me.”
“That’s not true, Mayson. And you know it,” Clark responded, feeling his temper rise in spite of every attempt to keep his feelings in check. “I do care.”
“Well, if that is true, I guess that’s your problem. Anyway, I’ve got somewhere to be. Please don’t call again.”
Clark suddenly found himself listening to a dead line as Mayson hung up the phone. What had that been about? He was the injured party. Where had all this newfound hostility come from?
“So does this mean you won’t agree to give me an interview?” he asked rhetorically into the phone.
“Reluctant source?” Eduardo asked as he walked by.
“You have no idea,” Clark responded. Well, if he couldn’t get the information he needed from Mayson, where else might he be able to look?
* * * * * * * * *
Successfully planting the spy pen in Church’s room had been easier than anticipated - made easier by the fact that Bill Church had been taken for an EKG shortly before she’d arrived at his room. In order to avoid suspicion, however, Lois continued her trip down the hall, pushing the janitorial cart ahead of her. She pushed open the door of the next room and stepped inside, immediately looking for the trash can.
A young woman, probably no more than seventeen or eighteen, wearing a candy stripper’s uniform was helping a middle age gentleman across the room, apparently heading towards the bathroom.
Suddenly, the man gasped, grabbing at his chest as he fell to the floor. Almost immediately, he was unconscious.
“What do I do?” the candy stripper asked in a panic.
Lois was instantly at the man’s side, her fingers expertly feeling his neck for a pulse. “He’s in cardiac arrest,” she said immediately. “Call code blue. Get a crash cart in here - now!” As the candy stripper rushed to follow her instructions, Lois began cardiopulmonary resuscitation - when had she learned the correct procedure for CPR, anyway?
As a nurse rushed into the room with a crash cart, Lois heard the intercom page a code blue.
“Good!” Lois said, standing up to pull a second nurse over to take over the chest compressions and barked at the first nurse to administer oxygen and attach a finger pulse oximeter as she herself grabbed the stethoscope off the cart and placed the ends in her ears. “Wait,” she said, causing the nurse administering CPR to stop while she checked to see if there was a heartbeat. When she shook her head, the nurse immediately resumed CPR.
“Where’s Dr. Kross?” the nurse manning the oxygen mask asked.
“Probably sneaking another private moment with Dr. Stalla,” the nurse performing CPR responded.
“Well, we don’t have time to wait,” Lois said as she quickly grabbed the patient’s chart to check allergies as well as other information.
She glanced at the name tag on the nurse operating the oxygen mask. Mindy Black. “Ms. Black, administer one mg of epinephrine,” Lois said while turning her attention to preparing the defibrillator, adding gel to the paddles.
Mindy did as ordered.
After setting the power level on the defibrillator, Lois ripped the man’s shirt open and placed one paddle diagonally on the right side of the man’s body between the right nipple and the collar bone and the other almost under his left armpit. She looked back at the power level. “Charging,” she said a couple of times. When the power was fully charged, she looked at Mindy. “Pulse?” she asked. The woman looked down at the device she had placed on the patient’s finger before shaking her head. Lois immediately said, “Clear!”
The instant the nurses pulled away, she pressed the buttons on the paddles simultaneously, sending a jolt of electricity through the man’s heart. Then she put the stethoscope back in her ears and listened again as Mindy announced that they had a heartbeat.
“Strong... regular,” Lois said before sinking back on her heels and breathing a sigh of relief. “Okay, get him settled, set up an IV and a cardiac monitor and monitor his vital signs.”
“Who are you?” Mindy asked, seeming to realize for the first time that she didn’t recognize the person barking orders. “You’re on the janitorial staff?” the woman gasped in disbelief as her gaze focused in on Lois’ name tag.
“Uhh... well, as they say, any port in a storm,” Lois said, quickly rising to her feet. Just then a doctor came rushing into the room, still doing up his shirt. His name tag identified him as Dr. Kross. “Doctor, I assume you can take over from here,” Lois said before practically fleeing the room, taking the back steps down to the next floor, in hopes that she could get back to her preordained hiding spot before security could be alerted to her presence.
Once safely tucked away in her closet, she started to tremble. How had she known how to do all that?
The Faraday leaks. It was the only possible explanation. Somehow, in a moment of extreme duress, she’d found a way to access and make use of the information Faraday had planted in her mind. But then... she should have known that. After all, she seemed to leak information in two types of situations. In response to some type of question or comment. And in moments of extreme emotion. But then her leak about the Faraday information had mentioned an adrenaline catalyst. This time the two situations had combined, giving her instant access to the information that had saved a man’s life.
But then... Her mind flashed back to an accident she’d had when she’d been in Kansas with Clark. Somehow she’d known how to fix the truck when it hadn’t started after the accident. At the time she’d just assumed she’d heard about fuel pressure inertia switches somewhere. But she could remember her hands trembling - a probable adrenaline rush caused by the accident. So maybe this wasn’t the first time she’d been able to translate theoretical science into practice.
A slow grin made its way across her face as the reality sunk in that she really had saved that man’s life. Was this how Superman felt after a successful rescue? If so, she could suddenly understand how hard it must be for Clark to have to give all that up. Maybe she owed it to him to cut him a little slack.
She knew she’d been hard on him the previous night. She’d turned her anger on Clark when really it should have been directed at Mayson for her betrayal. She knew, really, that Clark wasn’t in love with Mayson. And she knew Clark’s nature always looked for the good in everyone. She loved that about him, in fact.
Just thinking about their fight caused a pit to form in her stomach. This was new to her. Regret. Wishing she’d handled turning down his proposal better. Wishing that instead of getting mad at him, she’d found some way to reassure him that her request that he not propose had not been a rejection of him. Not at all. She just needed... a little time to get use to the idea. That she did see her future with him. In fact, she could no longer imagine a future without him in it. But that she just needed a little time to be sure. Instead, she’d lost her temper when he’d accused her of rejecting him because he was blind.
And then, maybe, if they had settled things between them before returning to the States, she would have handled the whole Mayson tells the world thing better. Right now, they should be pulling together - not apart. And with the thought that she could lose Clark as a result of this whole mess, the pit in her stomach got bigger.
Still, there was not much she could do to make things right while staking out Bill Church’s hospital room. Besides, there was something going on here, something more than just Mayson’s moral scruples about Superman. Lois could feel it. What she couldn’t quite get a grasp on was what exactly was going on. Was it just that Mayson really was acting out as the woman scorned? Possibly. She didn’t know Mayson well enough to know for sure. But there was one thing of which Lois was certain - by the time this was all over, she would get to the bottom of it.
Still, there wasn’t time to worry about that now. She needed to get the transmitter and tape recorder ready in time for Church’s return. Now... she only hoped this worked because she doubted she’d get back on Church’s floor again without causing a commotion.
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
