Part 7
“Perry, could I talk to you for a minute?”
The Editor-in-Chief glanced up from the piece of paper he had been scanning intently and gazed at the woman framed in the doorway, puzzled. In the five or so years since he'd hired her, Lois had barged straight into his private sanctuary many times, disturbing the calming vibes he'd managed to achieve with her babbling and making his head spin faster than a rollercoaster every time she did. But she had never asked for permission before. Not once.
Was she ill?
He cleared his throat.
“Well, what are you standing there with the door swinging open like that for?” he growled. “Come in, and close the door before we all die of hypothermia!”
The words had the desired effect, and Lois came in, pulling the door closed behind her. Perry looked at her, eyebrows raised. No sarcastic comment, no little dig – not even a raise of the eyebrows? What was wrong?
He motioned at the chair in front of him, but received a derisive snort in response. Feeling slightly more at ease now that she seemed more like herself, he sat back in the chair and watched her pace around the room. She always did this, and he had learned through trial and error that it was better just to go with the flow. Let her vent her frustration on the floorboards, or she might just try and take it out on you. And when she did that, well, the phrase ‘God help you’ took on a whole new meaning, because... only God could.
“It’s... about Clark.” she started hesitatingly. Perry grunted. What *wasn’t* about Clark?
“No. It’s not about Clark,” she corrected herself, her hands swinging determinedly. “It’s about… me, and the way I’ve been... the way... it’s about me and work.”
“Uh huh,” Perry nodded, trying to hide a smile. If she didn’t think he knew where she was going with this…
“I would feel...” she paused to pluck at a loose thread in the front of her jacket, “Easier... if maybe I was... if we could… if I could work... on my own for a while.” She finished in a rush, squaring her shoulders and finally looking directly at Perry. Her expression was fierce. Perry examined her face, saying nothing.
After a few moments, she lost her nerve and blinked, looking away. She continued her trek around his office, her hands constantly in motion – plucking at her clothes, smoothing her hair, toying with various objects.
“It would make me feel...” Her hands were at her waist. “...much more comfortable...” She flicked the lid of a pen up and down. “...working here, getting my feet back on the ground...” she dropped the pen and sat lightly down on the edge of the chair. “…especially with all of this... the new offices, and Lex...” Her hands were folded tightly, the knuckles white. “...if I could just... work on my own for a while. Just until I get everything... organised, sorted out in my head – you know?” That last was said as an unconscious plea, and Perry perked up. Lois Lane, begging?
He looked sharply at her, trying to deduce what exactly it was that she wanted here. His searching gaze swept her from head to foot, taking in the lines and shadows under her eyes, the lack of colour in her cheeks, the lack of sheen in her sweep of hair – the hair which was usually so glossy. The girl hadn’t been sleeping well, and she was much, much too thin.
Perry was worried. He had only spoken to Lois a handful of times during the past three months, but that had been enough to deduce that she had been badly burned, and not only by that scum-sucking slimeball Luthor. There was something else, something that spoke in the shadows in her eyes and the tightness in her posture when her gaze swept the newsroom. She had had some sort of blow-up with Clark – that was the real reason why she had disappeared for so long, the real reason why she was now asking for him to dissolve the bonds of their partnership. Not work. Not strain. And certainly not to make her more *comfortable*.
Making his decision, he cleared his throat. The kids needed to work this thing out, whatever it was, and breaking them up wouldn’t help.
“I don’t think so, Lois,” he opined flatly. She looked at him defiantly, the classic I’m-going-to-do-this-and-you-can’t-stop-me look steady on her face. Perry raised an eyebrow. If she thought he was going to relent that easily...
“But, Perry...”
“No buts,” he replied calmly.
“You haven’t even heard...”
“I don’t need to.”
“And everyone...”
“Everyone isn’t Clark.”
“Rookie...”
“Don’t play that card, Lois, he’s been here a year. He’s a darned good reporter.”
“Well, I *can’t take it anymore*!”
Perry raised a surprised eyebrow. She was on her feet, her hands fisted into tight balls, her face taut and tight. She had often blown up at him for a decision that she considered badly-made, but this was the first time she had yelled at him so shrilly.
“You can’t take what?” Perry reasoned, spreading his hands. If his instincts were right, there was more here than just a minor fight, and Lois would probably rather die than go and talk to Clark about it, instead choosing to run and hide. This was just an attempt at avoidance.
“Everywhere I go... everything I do... people are whispering, staring, talking about Lex, about me... I just – I *can’t*! Do you know how they *look* at me, Perry?”
“But Clark isn’t one of these people, Lois.”
“I know, but he... it’s just... complicated. Perry, I’m going to go nuts if I can’t figure this out by myself... I need to prove that I can work without somebody standing over me, holding my hand. I need to do that, okay? I need to remind people that I’m still the best reporter in the city.”
“Why should Clark be affected by that, Lois?”
“It’s... complicated, Perry. I can work better on my own, I know it!”
Perry leaned back in his chair, hands hooked behind his head. The gal should know that she wouldn’t get away that easily. Not with him.
“I’m afraid that that’s not good enough, Lois. You and Kent are a great writing team, and I’m not about to break you up just so you can be the biggest bully in the playground again. Unless you have a worthy explanation, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to ride it out.”
“But Perry...”
“Didn’t I just say 'no buts?'” A quizzical expression crossed over his face. This was unusually insistent, even for Lois.
She crossed over to the door. Something in the lack of speed and bounce to her step worried Perry. Swinging it open, she took half a step out, then looked back, biting her lip as she stared at the editor. Perry held his breath. Was Lois seriously going to tell him what was bothering her? It would make the evening headline all by itself, if so... to do something so honest would be a contradiction of everything that Lois Lane was.
Apparently, he was to be disappointed, because he could visibly see her exhale in defeat. Shooting him a poisonous glare, she strode out into the newsroom...
...bumping against another woman as she did so.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois cursed silently as she prepared to leave Perry’s office, fighting the childish impulse to stamp her feet as she did so. Stupid! She had been so stupid to believe that Perry would let her away with trying to dissolve her partnership with Clark. So easy to believe that everything could have been fixed so easily. A sympathetic chat with her Editor, a thorough dose of the cold shoulder and maybe a few icy glares would have been the magic formulae needed to bring the once-flying-high partnership of Lane and Kent crashing to the ground spectacularly. But Perry hadn’t wanted to play, so the game had ended. Now she would have to face it. Now she would have to live with the proof of her failure, her inadequacy, the man that she loved stuck right into her face, almost twenty-four hours a day. And all because of Perry’s refusal to buy a perfectly good, decent, and even somewhat honest excuse.
She had been proud of that astute thinking – her reasoning had been quick, clear and sharp, unlike her usual babbled protestations. And when listening to the excuse pouring out of her mouth like that, she had been hit with a certain sense of... realisation. It was true. People looked at her differently now. Not with a curl of the lip, which would have been unbearable at her present state of mind – nor with pity, which she couldn’t *stand*. No. With amazement. She could almost hear the conversations that were inevitably happening at water-coolers all over the city – “Lois Lane? MadDog? Engaged to the biggest criminal in the city since Al Capone? She didn’t *know*? On her wedding day? What… a… *dope*! A reporter, you say? Must be losing her touch…”
It was written all over their faces when they looked at her, and Lois couldn’t bear it. Running and hiding was the obvious thing to do – but a spark of her old stubbornness had re-ignited itself in her brain. She would get back on the beat – she would stay on stakeouts all night long for a week – she would put her life in her hands and her heart in her mouth for the sake of the story – just as long as that in doing so, she proved herself once more. To the people of Metropolis – to her colleagues, past and present – to Perry, Jimmy, Clark – to her mother, her father, wherever he was, to Lucy – in short, to any person who had looked upon her with pity or disbelief – they would all see that Lois Lane was dealing with the withered flower of her engagement *just fine*.
Fighting the fact that the real reason why she wanted – needed – to work alone was because she couldn’t stand to be around Clark any more, she had spun Perry that cock-and-bull excuse, amazed to discover that it was partly true when she had listened to what was coming out of her mouth. It was as if by giving the feelings a voice, she had made them real – as real as Clark’s rejection of her had been. Like her heart had jumped into her brain and pushed all the barriers protecting her emotions away for a minute, leaving them free to tumble out as carefree as they pleased.
Like she was telling the truth for the first time in three months.
She had been proud of that – horribly scared, but proud. This was Perry, after all – her father figure for so many years. He would surely understand – and be sympathetic. He hated to meddle in the personal lives of his reporters, Lois knew, but she had been hoping that he’d make an exception in this case.
Wishful thinking.
He had shot her idea down – down in flames, actually. He had read between the lines of her badly-constructed, rushed excuse, and had probably seen the real reason that Lois wanted to work on her own – so she could get away from Clark. Perry had never been much for favouritism – and if Lois was his honorary daughter, then Clark was his son – her brother. At least, that was how she had always seen him. Like a brother.
Her lips twisted sardonically. What a joke. What a sick, depraved, joke.
To her horror, her eyes had started to sting as she listened to her editor’s gruff tones, denouncing her plan, and from then on her main objective had been to get out of his office. It was an unspoken rule between them – neither he nor she never cried in front of the other. It was a condition that had never been given a voice by either of them, but it was there – as binding and compelling as the roles played by a father and daughter. She would not turn to mush in his office, on his time, on her schedule – and he would never scare her by shedding tears. He was her editor, her friend, her confidant, her mentor – watching him cry would be like watching a mighty tower fall to the ground after the slightest gust of wind.
So when the telltale prickling had begun at the bridge of her nose and her vision had started to blur, she had decided that it was high time to make a speedy departure from his office and straight into the Ladies. She had probably shocked him, giving up so quickly – when MadDog Lane got her teeth into something, usually nothing short of a good shaking would get her to let go. Unfortunately, nobody realised that MadDog was dormant at the moment, had been since that day three months ago. Little Lois Lane, girl reporter, was now on the surface – and fighting to get back into her hiding place.
Standing up abruptly, she’d felt the back of her knees connect with the chair as she shoved it back. Ignoring Perry’s somewhat shocked expression, she had made a complete about-face, and had placed her hand squarely at the door handle.
At this point her resolve had failed slightly, and she had glanced back at her editor. It was such a shame to leave a perfectly good fight hanging in the air...
But one glance at him had steeled her determination to leave, and she had swung the door open and practically leaped out of his office...
...unfortunately, not registering the fact that at that precise moment, somebody was trying to leap in.
Lois yelped and took two hasty steps backward, her heart pumping. Her breathing accelerated slightly from the shock she’d gotten, a bubble of anger grew inside her. How dare... what a... didn’t people *look* where they were *going* anymore?
The other woman was a few paces ahead of her by now. Lois wheeled around, preparing to launch her attack...
...and fell silent as a pair of wrathful brown eyes came into contact with her own. The other was clearly as infuriated as she was. Lois gave her a quick scan over. Business suit... tidy copper hair... steely expression. Disliking her instantly, she arched her back in indignant outrage. This woman had no right to be angry! If she had just been looking where she was going...
“*Excuse* me,” she began hotly, but fell back, floored, as the pure hatred in the woman’s eyes seemed to melt away and she advanced upon Lois, holding out a perfectly manicured hand.
”No, excuse *me!* I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Dr. Carlin – Dr. Arianna Carlin.”
“A *doctor*! Oh, how, how nice for you,” Lois smiled sweetly, ignoring the outstretched hand. The woman would probably try to scratch her with those talons instead of shaking her hand.
Perry came up behind her, a glint in his eye. “Lois, Dr. Carlin is our new... staff sh... psychologist. Mr. Stern feels that with all the ruckus that’s been happening around here lately, some of us could – ah, could do with a little – couch time. I was just about to announce it but,” he glared balefully at her, “I was interrupted.”
A shrink! The Planet had hired a shrink to talk to them!! What? This couldn’t be happening! Were they all idiots?
Dr. Carlin’s eyes had been roving around Lois’ face for all of Perry’s speech and Lois felt oddly insecure under her gaze. Her eyes were cold, calculating chips of ice – but she was smiling. Fixedly.
“I’m... especially looking forward to talking to you, Lois,” she remarked. “The events which took place on your wedding day must have had a profoundly disturbing effect on you.” Lois winced. *She*, Lois Lane, talk to a shrink? Unburden her soul and ‘release her inner child’ in front of a stranger? No. No way. Not happening.
“Dr. Carlin, with all due respect – I’m fine. Really. I’ve had three months to – evaluate my situation. I’ve gotten over what happened. I’m moving on. In fact,” and here she threw a darting glance at Perry, “I was just asking Perry’s advice about making some changes to my office life.”
Carlin gave a start. “You mean – you’re going to leave the Planet?”
“No!” Lois was shocked. Leave the Planet? She? No, that would never happen. “I just suggested that perhaps I could work on my own for a while. Get my head clear and concentrate on my stories. *Alone*.” She shot a barbed glare at Perry. He had sure nipped *that* one in the bud.
Dr. Carlin was nodding enthusiastically. Lois looked at her with a certain degree of surprise. She *agreed*?
“That sounds like a very good idea. It should give you some time to sort out all the things which have been happening to you. Have you come to an arrangement?”
She agreed!
“No,” Lois replied, beginning to see how she could use this to her advantage. If Perry thought that her mentality was at risk... “Perry decided that it would be best if I continued working with Clark.”
Dr. Carlin shot a surprised glance at the Editor. “He did?”
Perry, seeing where this was going, stepped in hurriedly. “Now wait just a doggone minute here. Clark isn’t going to have any sort of – negative effect on Lois. In fact –“ He shot a wry glance at the lady in question. “...he usually has a more healing influence than a harming one. Why, I remember the time –“
“Even so,” Dr. Carlin broke in, “I really do feel that this idea of Lois’s is a good one. It will give her time to – readjust to her working pattern. Maybe straighten some things out. That and, of course, some sessions with me, should get her back on track – if not this month, then the next.”
Lois watched her in amazement. She was proving to be rather a good ally here! Darting a nervous glance at Perry, she was stupefied to discover that his ‘no’ face had changed into his ‘I’m-not-quite-sure-but-if-you-keep-talking-I-just-might-be-convinced’ face. Taking the hint, Lois interjected, “And you *are* a professional – right, Dr. Carlin?”
“Of course.”
The atmosphere of the small office grew tight as the two women stared at the hapless Editor, who was glancing back and forth between the two. Reporters weren’t supposed to crack under pressure, but Perry hadn’t been trained to deal with two pairs of angry females glaring insistently at him. Raising his eyes to heaven, he relented.
“All right. Just for a couple of weeks. To see how it goes.”
Perry watched Lois smile and felt a large lump of dread settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Kent was going to be devastated.
* * * * * * * * *
tbc...
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