Clark and Lois – The Lost Years - Matchmaker Chronicle Volume 3
By Ken Janney
This version is rated PG-13
* denotes emphasis *
< denotes thoughts >
[ playback of a recording or TV Commentary] / telepathic communications /
(#) footnotes
As always comments are welcome. (ken.janney@kjanney.com)
Reminder:
Universal Locator Designation
Alpha 023 x Gamma 004 x Tau -120 - Canon Lois and Clark universe also called – Prime
Alpha 023 x Gamma 025 x Tau 036 – Canon Alt Clark universe also called – Alt 1
Previously –
Deciding to try a different approach, Charlie descend to ‘wave top’ level and followed the river north from Impfondo to above Dongou and this time scanned the north west river bank looking for a dock or pier. He was ten kilometers north of Dongou when he found it. It was a small pier and it had a camouflage net strung over it so that it would be hard to see from the air. Once he spotted it he zoomed up higher and looked down on it. Now that he knew what he was looking for it was easy to spot. He then scanned the jungle immediately inland and was able to detect a track or trail through the undergrowth. It looked like it hadn’t been used recently but it had been used frequently enough that it hadn’t grown back over. It hadn’t been made by any vehicles. It was obviously a footpath as it was not wide enough of anything other than a motorcycle. Unfortunately it was time to return to Brazzaville. He would have to return the following night.
Since Charlie had found the pier the previous night and identified the trail he needed to follow he was able to return to it easily. He thought that logically, all he needed to do was follow the trail to the camp. How hard could that be?
Much to his frustration once he had picked it up again, it wasn’t as easy as he had thought it would be. There were a number of side trails branching off of the main trail and it was difficult to know which one was the main trail to follow. He decided to stick to the trail that appeared to be the heaviest traveled. If that didn’t lead directly to the rebel camp he could always come back and follow the side trails.
From altitude it was easier to follow the trail. He followed it west from the river for almost one hundred kilometers, through the jungle and across the grasslands and almost into the foothills where he finally came across the camp. Not surprisingly as it turned out it was the most direct route to the river and the pier was at the point of closest approach. He was relieved. <If I hadn’t heard that conversation in Dongou I might not have found the rebel camp before Lois’ arrival. Okay, now it’s time to do some spying. I’ll have to start that later.> He needed to return to Brazzaville before there was a chance he would be seen as he wasn’t dressed for daytime spying. In his dark outfit he would be easy to spot against the brightening sky.
And now –
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Chapter 4 – Mayson Drake
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Lois wasn’t due in for another six and a half weeks. He thought, <I could probably afford to take some time to become more familiar with the environs of Brazzaville.> Since everyone knows that dining and touring is more pleasant when in company than when alone he decided that he should have some company. Personal experience had taught him about being alone in a very painful way. Ever since being exposed as Superman he had been basically alone and lonely. The only woman he had opened up to about who he was and what he could do had insisted that he deny all of that and be ‘normal’. Lois had returned to her universe and then there was Mayson.
This caused him to start to reminisce.
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1996 and 1997
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When the other Lois had shown him how to be Superman, Lana had flipped out. She had given him an ultimatum – it was her or Superman. Since he couldn’t deny who and what he was she had called off the wedding and had left him. Soon after that the other Lois had left as well. He could actually understand her desire to return to her own Clark but that didn’t prevent him from wanting her to stay there with him. That was the point when he had become truly *alone*.
Shortly after Lois’ departure with H. G. Wells; Clark had determined to try to find his Lois. In between rescues, captures and work at the Daily Planet, he would press his investigation in the Congo. Fortunately the time change made this very convenient. Most of the time when it was night in Metropolis it was daytime in the Congo.
Clark went to the HR department of the Planet and obtained a copy of her employee photo which was a passport sized picture. He started his inquiry at the airport and confirmed her arrival but that was as far as he was able to follow her.
It was like she disappeared into thin air. He knew the bare bones of the story so he proceeded into the Bantu country and pressed his inquiry there, coming up empty everywhere he asked. He checked in every native village in the area. No one had seen a woman looking like the one in the photo. Not a single hotel desk clerk was able to confirm her presence after looking at the picture. He failed to take into account the various shifts at the desk. If he had checked every clerk working at each hotel, specifically the Bonne Nuit de Sommeil he might have talked to the clerk that actually was on duty when Charlie took the room for Lois. There were a couple of possibilities. The first one would be that he was off shift when Clark came through. The second would be that he might have moved on to other employment. It was a hasty visit and if he had lingered someone on staff *might* have recognized him as Charlie King, the man who had rented 501 for so long. All in all a rather simple check but his anxiety and lack of sleep were making him sloppy.
There was one unusual incident. Well into the second month of his search he was passing a shop and the proprietor hailed him. “Charlot, mon ami, I ‘aven’t zeen you een years. Where ‘ave you been?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have mistaken me for someone else. My name is Clark.”
“Mon Dieu, but you look yust lak a zerry good customer of mine. Ah well, zay say zat everyone ‘as a tween.”
Clark started to wonder if perhaps a Clark from another universe had visited here previously but passed it off as a case of mistaken identity. Actually the lack of sleep brought about by his nocturnal activities was taking a toll on his performance. If he had been more on his game he might have followed up on that chance encounter and found out that the Charlie that was being greeted was Charlie King, his undercover name, which might have just led him to show the shop owner the photo of Lois. Still determined to keep up the search he continued, but, after something over two months as far as he could determine there were no stones left to turn over so he finally gave up. He didn’t realize it but he had missed a number of clues.
Clark continued with this activity for a number of months. When he finally gave up and started getting some rest things didn’t improve; in fact he went into a not so mild state of depression. He lost interest in eating. He rarely socialized with anyone even Perry and Alice White. They did invite him over for the occasional dinner. Most of the time he just begged off claiming that he needed to be available for rescues or some other flimsy excuse. He would spend the majority of his time brooding in his apartment. He found himself thinking a lot about Lois, the only Lois he actually knew.
Even knowing that that Lois was unattainable didn’t dim the attraction he felt for her. If there had been a way to travel to the other universe and snatch her away from his doppelganger and make her happy he would have done it. But, there was the problem, making her happy. How to do that was the problem. She was equally or even perhaps, based on what she had told him, more strongly attracted to his doppelganger than to him. He would sit for hours and dwell on the time that they had had together. How she had cared for him and had saved him from the Kryptonite. How she had trusted him and believed in him. How she had taught him to be true to himself. The more he thought about her the more depressed he got knowing that *she* was never to be his and that he had not been able to find *his* Lois.
Clark threw himself even more completely into his work. He still had ‘friends’ of a sort. There was still Mayor White and some of the staff at the Planet but there was absolutely no one that he was what you would call close to. Perry noted his demeanor and mentioned it a few times and tried to draw him out, to no avail.
Because of his powers most people were in awe of him and were very standoffish. They weren’t sure that they could trust him with his powers, even though up until he was outted by Tempus he had passed as totally human and was even engaged to be married! People could be so myopic at times. The ultimate result had been that he didn’t have anyone that he could rely on; there was no one that he could talk to about personal matters when he needed to.
At work it was like he was being tolerated and watched all the time. It was as if his coworkers were just waiting to see him do something super. Each time that he got up from his desk and ran into the stairwell they knew that he was going off on a rescue or to break up a robbery or some such other super activity. Within seconds of his entering the stairwell they would often hear a sonic boom indicating that he was on his way to the rescue. Everyone knew that when he returned he would be typing up another Superman story for the front page.
He tried to keep the two sides of his life separate, making sure that he never did anything super when in his civilian clothes, which was difficult at times, but he did his best. That actually was one of the hardest things to accomplish. When he had been with Lana, before the suit, he had been in the habit of just operating from concealment. In fact, just before Lois came on the scene he had ducked into an alley and used his heat vision to flatten the tires of a getaway car so that the police could make the capture. He sometimes still found himself doing those kinds of things, just to avoid some of the notoriety of being who he was.
Even with that there was the other side of the coin. There were women that wanted him because of what he was. They were no better or worse than the groupies that follow rock bands around the country on tour. Actually he guessed that he probably had more than his fair share of those. He would see them at every announced appearance clamoring for an autograph or just to touch him. Sometimes it got a little rough with the women jostling for position. Sometimes, fortunately not very frequently, some would even bare their breasts like the women at rock concerts and throw their bras at him. Those incidents only served to reinforce to him the fact that Clark was really normal, or perhaps super-normal, human because like any other man he was very attracted to the female form and when opportunities such at that presented themselves, his eyes were drawn to the display although he tried not to stare overtly. At times he was concerned that he was going to embarrass himself with his very physical response. That spandex suit wasn’t very good at concealing that. He was very careful when using his supervision that he didn’t intrude on anyone’s privacy. It would be so easy to abuse his powers in that way, but really, the only woman he really *wanted* and longed to look at was his Lois.
Clark got a lot of fan mail. He tried to answer all of it, especially that letters he got from kids. When answering those he always tried to encourage them to set high ideals, be good to others and help out wherever they could. If they wrote to him about being bullied he encouraged them, not to fight but still not to give in, telling them that they should let those in authority know what was happening and not take matters into their own hands. He got a lot of mail from unmarried and sometimes even married women which frequently contained a piece of intimate apparel with an offer of a sexual liaison. These letters he did *not* answer. He would usually collect these items of apparel for a time and then anonymously donate them to a women’s shelter.
There had been a few occasions where nubile young women had put themselves into precarious situations and yelled for his help just so that he would rescue them. Oftentimes while he had them in his arms they would start to kiss him and he had a hard time getting free of them, but there were no meaningful relationships and he had always held out the hope that he could still find *his* Lois.
That had even clouded the relationship that had started to develop with Mayson Drake.
Clark had partially pulled out of his depression by throwing himself into his work. As a result he had been working very closely with the police department on an organized crime case both as an investigative reporter and as Superman. Mayson Drake had been the assistant DA sent over as liaison for that case. Initially she had made no bones about the fact that she didn’t like vigilantism and one vigilante in particular. However, since the police seemed to appreciate his assistance she was tolerating his presence, but she limited very severely her interaction with him. As far as she was concerned the less she had to deal with him the better. Any interaction she had with him was rather stilted and formal. She always addressed him as Mr. Kent since he always showed up in his civilian clothes. Over the course of the case however as she saw just how closely he cooperated with the police and how he was very diligent to follow the rules of evidence. Slowly her opinion was changed and she stopped seeing him as a vigilante and more as an adjunct police officer without credential.
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Flashback July 31, 1996
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Mayson and Clark had been in her office going over some of the depositions which had been collected one day. She still had some reservations about his activities and decided to beard the lion in his den, so to speak since it was *her* office. Seeing that it was after twelve noon she asked, “Mr. Kent, I would like to discuss some things with you. Could we possibly take a break and have the discussion over lunch?”
“If that’s what you would like to do Ms. Drake, that’s fine with me. Do we need to take any of these files with us?”
Looking down at the materials spread out on her desk she thought about that for a few seconds and replied, “No, I don’t think so. We can get back to this later.”
Clark offered, “Around the corner is a little place called ‘Travaglini’s’ that has some of the best Linguini with clam sauce I’ve ever had. Do you feel like having pasta?”
Mayson replied, “I simply adore Travaglini’s. Sure let’s go.”
A short time later Clark Kent and Mayson Drake were sitting at a sidewalk café table.
As their waiter approached the table Mayson stood up. The waiter threw his arms around her and gave her a kiss. He said, "Hey, Mayson where ya been? I ain’t seed youze in a couple‘o weeks."
Mayson started to laugh, "I've been busy on a case Tony."
Tony looked at Clark and said, "Ain’t I seed youze around here b’for?” Turning back to address Mayson he asked, “Is he workin’ wid you or is dis social?"
Laughing even harder Mayson looked at Clark and then back at Tony and said "A little bit of both."
Tony gave Clark the eye and then said to him, "Youze better take good care ‘o her or you answer to me. Capice?"
By this point Mayson was laughing so hard she could hardly speak but she managed to get out, "Tony, it's not like that. Besides, do you know who this is? This is *Clark Kent*, you know, *Superman*."
Tony replied, "I don't care ‘oo ‘e is. If ‘e don’t treat you nice ‘e’ll answer t’ me."
Mayson turned to Clark and said "Clark Kent, please allow me to introduce Tony Travaglini, my cousin.” She slugged him in the arm and said, “Tony is a little over protective, if you know what I mean, and he thinks it’s funny to give people the impression that an ADA has relatives in the Mafia. He doesn’t really talk like that, it’s all a put on."
Clark stuck out his hand and said "Pleased to meet you Tony. I assure you that my Intentions are honorable."
Tony replied, "Nice to meet you. I can’t help it I like to tease Mayson. We practically grew up together; she’s more like a sister than a cousin. We’re all kinda proud of her, being an Assistant DA and all.” Turning to Mayson he said, "What'll it be, your usual?"
"Sure Tony, the usual."
"What would you like Superman?"
Clark said, “Please call me Clark. I’ll have the linguini with clam sauce, please.” Tony left them alone.
Tony came out a couple of minutes later with a bottle of Chianti which he put it on the table and said, “Compliments of the house.”
While waiting for the food to be delivered Mayson asked, “Okay, what should I call you? In the office I usually use your name, but *is* that appropriate? You just told Tony to call you Clark so do I call you Mr. Kent or Clark or Superman?”
He laughed at the question and replied, “Actually, I get that a lot. The simple explanation is Clark Kent is who I am and Superman is what I can do. I grew up being just Clark Kent, so if I’m in my street clothes, I’m Clark Kent. If I’m in the uniform, I’m Superman. If you want to you can call me Clark.”
Mayson waited while Clark took the time to open the Chianti bottle and pour two glasses before asking, “Okay, Clark, you say that Superman is what you can do. But, *why* do you do it? What drives you to *be* Superman? What’s your … motivation?”
Just about that time Tony delivered their orders. When the orders arrived Mayson had spaghetti with red sauce and meat balls.
After Tony left they resumed the conversation. “Well, Mayson; may I call you Mayson?” She nodded her approval. “Well Mayson, I was raised on a farm in Kansas. I guess that you could say that I simply have the values of a Kansas farmer. Help your neighbor. Be good to others. Obey the law and be a good citizen. A rather simplistic set of values, but ones that if more people adopted them, wouldn’t the world be a better place?”
Mayson had speared one of her meatballs with her fork and cut it in two before putting a portion in her mouth. While she chewed she thought about what he had said. Finally she answered, “I can’t argue with that philosophy at all. But, *why* do you get yourself involved? You could just sit on the sidelines and watch us as we destroy ourselves.”
Clark had taken a forkful of the linguini and swallowed before answering. “Mayson, when I first started to develop my powers, my parents were concerned that the government would lock me away in a lab and study me, so they urged me to hide what I could do. As more of my powers developed it became harder and harder for me to sit back and do nothing when I knew that I could do something positive which would end up preventing serious injury or death. I feel that my powers are a gift, but not to me, to all mankind. I feel that I was sent here to help. As long as I am able to, that is exactly what I’ll do, help in any way that I can.”
Mayson took a sip of her Chianti before she asked, “Okay, I can see that, but, why the vigilante route? Why not go into crime fighting, full time by becoming a member of the force?”
Clark sat his fork down. In some respects he displayed some Italian characteristics in that he used his hands a lot to emphasize what her was saying. “That would actually limit me in what I could do. There are so many things that I do that are not associated with law enforcement that limiting myself to police work would make me feel like I was neglecting the other aspects of what I see as my part time job.” He started ticking off items on his fingers as he started enumerating them. “Rescuing people from burning structures, from collapsing buildings, from mud slides, from hurricanes and tornados … I could go on and on.” He threw his arms out as if to encompass the world. “There is also the fact that if I became a member of the force I could be perceived as a representative of the U. S. whenever I assist in international incidents. In that respect I must remain neutral, not representing any single country but mankind in general.”
This had been a new revelation to Mayson and she said in a somewhat awed tone, “I guess I can see that. Wow, all of those activities, all those rescues, it must actually make you feel good when you save so many lives.”
“It is tremendously rewarding in and of itself. The satisfaction in knowing that as a result of my actions this individual will live to see another day, it’s extremely gratifying.”
After having had another sip of her wine she sat the glass down. She had been thinking about all of the reports of his activities. She seemed to recall some reports of dead bodies being recovered. Mayson got a somewhat concerned expression as she asked, “But … you don’t *always* get there in time *do* you? I mean … you can’t *always* get there before someone has died *do* you?”
A very sad look came over his face as he answered, “No Mayson, no … I don’t. No matter *how* much I try sometimes I’m just not there soon enough … or I’m not *fast* enough to get to everyone in time. Sometimes there are just too *many*. No matter how *hard* I try … sometimes it just isn’t enough.”
Mayson could see the unshed tears well up in his eyes and moved by his apparent sadness reached out and placed her hand on his arm and said, “Nobody’s perfect. You expect too much of yourself if you expect to rescue *everyone* *every* time. You need to cut yourself some slack. You can only do so much and whatever you *can* do has to be enough. Look at it this way, if you *hadn’t* been there *at all*, how many of those you did save *would* have died? I have to admit that you do a lot of good. I’ve been more than a little down on you because of your apparent vigilantism, but, I think I’m starting to see things more from *your* point of view now. You do a tremendous lot of good and you get very little recognition for the good that you do. I wish that there was something I could do for you. You are obviously a very caring person. I can see that from what you’ve said. I can see that it tears you up when someone *dies* because of your self-perceived failings. Do you have *anyone* that you can talk to? You know, when things don’t go quite right. Do you have any close friends … a girlfriend perhaps?”
Mayson could see the sadness in his expression as he replied, “No, Mayson, I don’t. I *was* engaged to be married but she broke it off when I decided to go public with what I could do. It hurt when she did that, but, what else could I do? There is only so much I could do from the shadows and it wasn’t enough. Too many people *died* … because I was afraid to come out in the open. It was a … a sacrifice … that I had to make.”
These revelations had given Mayson new insight into this man she was with. She took another sip of her wine while she thought. Now she was seeing him as less a vigilante and more as a selfless, caring man who felt a compulsion to help in any way that he could and considering just who he was and what he could do, that was a lot. He had been very correct when he had said that if more people lived by his values that the world would be a better place, it could almost be called Utopia.
They had both managed to finish up at about the same time. Clark called for the check. Tony came over and said, “The management, namely me, has decided that since you were here with Mayson, this meal was on the house.”
Clark replied, “Thank you Tony. The meal was delicious.”
“Tell your friends. We depend on word of mouth advertising.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks again.”
Reverting to his Mafia style speech he replied, “Doan mention it.” and laughed as he turned away with the dirty dishes in hand.
As a result of this time with him and their discussion Mayson had gotten a new perspective on this man and she came to a decision. She asked, “Clark, would you consider me very forward if I invited you to dinner?”
“To discuss the case?”
“No … I’d like to discuss *you* some more. I’d like to get to *know* you better.”
“Uh, Mayson, I don’t know if that would be a real good idea. You might be very disappointed.”
Mayson thought about his statement for a few seconds before answering. “No, I *don’t* think I will be.” She took out one of her business cards and wrote her address on the back. Handing it to him she said, “Can you come over at 7:30 Friday? I make a mean lasagna. It's from an old family recipe."
“I think I’d like that. Okay, 7:30 Friday.” He pocketed the card.
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Flashback TBC
comments go here To be continued in Chapter 5 – Dating Mayson
