We went inside and I immediately headed to the sofa with the pile of pesticide reports. “The sooner we get through these, the sooner I can beat you at Monopoly!” I said playfully.
“Don’t get too smug, Lois. I played with my dad last time I was here, and he showed me a trick or two… I’ll just brew us up some coffee and we’ll get to work, okay?” Clark said pleasantly as he headed into the kitchen.
I nodded, glancing out the window at the snow. Was I so naïve this morning not to think that maybe the forecast was just off on timing? It certainly looked like it would be a six-inch snowstorm or better… Even though it was only around four o’clock, the clouds outside made it seem much later. I reached over to turn on a lamp and switched on the TV to catch the headlines.
“…flights cancelled in and out of Wichita. This storm will affect most of the area overnight. Expect school closings in the morning…”
“Well, it’s going to be hard doing much investigating in this,” I grumbled, just as Clark came in the room carrying a cup of coffee for me. I reached out and took it, immediately taking a sip. I smiled because it was fixed exactly how I like it. “Thanks, Clark.”
He grinned down at me. “Did Lois Lane just thank me for something?” he teased, though I was a little hurt. Do I really treat him that badly?
He sat down next to me, and I hit his arm playfully. “Stop it, Clark. I thank you all the time,” I said, though I realized with a shock that I was lying. I couldn’t think of the last time I had thanked him for anything.
“I know. I’m just teasing,” he said lightly, taking a seat next to me on the sofa. “So? Any news? Is the world about to fall apart with you out of Metropolis?”
“Very funny. No, just checking the weather. It looks like it will get worse overnight. Your folks could have made it back, but I guess it’s too late now, huh?” I said, glancing at him, surprised by the sudden feeling of butterflies in my stomach. I had spent many nights alone with Clark, doing stakeouts. This somehow seemed… different. More intimate perhaps… I tried to hone in on why I was feeling so uncomfortable about it, as I stared into my coffee, and Clark continued to speak.
“Yeah. Mom left a message on the answering machine that they had already found a hotel.”
It felt very cozy, sitting there with Clark and our coffees on the sofa. His parents’ sofa was definitely more comfortable than mine.
Clark suddenly got up and started making a fire. He expertly stacked some small logs and stuffed some old newspapers in between to get the fire started.
“None of those better be any of my stories,” I teased.
“Don’t worry. These are just old copies of the Smallville Gazette. I send my folks’ our big stories, and all of those get put in a scrapbook.”
He struck a match, and suddenly the room was filled with a warm glow. It only added to the intimate feeling of the evening, which made me immediately decided that we should get to work. I split the stack of reports and sat half of them by his side. “Okay, so what should we look for? Anomalies?”
“Locations. Just see if they’ve ever had a problem on or nearby the Irig’s farm before,” he said, lighting the fireplace. It didn’t take him long to get it roaring, and he quickly settled into scanning the files. He handed me a slip of paper. “Check for these zip codes. They are all in the vicinity of where they are investigating.”
“Well, whatever it is they’re doing, they surely aren’t getting anything done tonight. Not with this weather,” I said, glancing at the window.
I muted the TV, but left it on in case any interesting news came on while we worked. Clark turned on the radio and we got to work while cheesy Christmas carols played on in the background. Despite the rocky start to our partnership, I really liked working with Clark. I had made a big show about him being a naïve farm boy and not at all cut out for reporting, though honestly, he’s proven to be quite good at it. And secretly, I admit to enjoying the work we do together. Our work habits were similar, and we’d often make lists and exchange them, comparing notes and ideas. Some of our best work came about when we bounced ideas off each other, and to be honest, it was only in the throes of work that I would sometimes let my guard down and forget to be mean to Clark.
About an hour and a half later, I knew the detailed history of pesticides in Smallville, but we were no closer to detecting why the government had suddenly gotten involved on Irig’s property.
I sighed and got up off the sofa to check the snow. The sun was gone, and there was nothing but a white blanket outside.
“I wonder how much snow has fallen?” I asked, glancing at Clark who was just setting aside his pile, looking as bored as I felt.
“I don’t know. Let’s have a look.” Intrigued, I followed him to the front door. He pulled a yardstick out of the closet and stepped out on the front porch. “It’s more accurate than waiting for them to tell you on TV,” he said, dipping the stick in the snow just off the porch. “I’d say four inches. But it doesn’t look like it will stop any time soon. Good thing we have plenty of supplies,” he grinned at me.
“Hey, I just picked up things I needed,” I said defensively, heading back inside to where it was warm. The wind was starting to pick up as well.
“I’ll make us some fettuccine, and then, I want a Monopoly rematch!”
“You’re on!” I laughed, following him into the kitchen. I leaned on the doorframe, watching him. “I guess you’re feeling better?”
He turned to look at me, with that strange deer-in-headlights look he gets sometimes and then answered me. “Yeah, a little bit… I hope I’m back to normal by tomorrow though.”
“Well, like I said, we aren’t likely to get much investigating done tomorrow until the weather clears up… How long does it usually take until they get out here to plow your road?” I asked, and by Clark’s look, I was a little afraid of the answer.
“Usually no more than two days—“
“Two days?!” I protested. “I thought we’d be out of here by then, have this story all sewn up! There’s real journalism to be had in Metropolis that I’m missing!”
“Lois, calm down. Actually, it might be longer, since we’re two days away from Christmas Eve… Think of it as – a much-deserved vacation. Come on, I promise, it’ll be fun.”
~L&C~
An hour later, we were sitting on the floor in the living room playing Monopoly. Clark was losing big, but he was taking it well.
“Go to jail!” I cried gleefully, as he had another bum turn.
The wind was howling outside, and it momentarily distracted me from our game. Suddenly, there was a loud crack and the electricity went out.
I heard Clark sigh. “Great. Sounds like the transformer blew. We won’t be able to get it fixed until they clear the snow first… But sit tight. I had stacked some extra wood earlier, just in case we’d need it. There’s a huge pile on the porch. I’ll be right back.”
I saw the shadow of him move past me. It was suddenly feeling chillier in the room, and I reached for the blanket that had been slung on the sofa and wrapped it around my shoulders.
I waited in the dark silence until Clark returned with a pile of extra wood. I reached my hands out towards the dwindling fire, as they had already begun to feel cold. He added a log onto the fire, creating a much needed explosion of warmth in the room. “Man, I wish I had bought some marshmallows.”
Clark grinned at me and then disappeared into the kitchen. He came back a moment later with skewers and a bag of Stay-Puffed marshmallows.
I giggled like a kid. “My hero,” I said, greedily reaching for a skewer. “I haven’t roasted marshmallows in ages.”
We sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, cooking our marshmallows. I knew we probably should be working, brainstorming what could have the government interested in Smallville. But truth be told, Clark was right. I did sort of need a little vacation, and this was as good an excuse as any.
I glanced over at Clark. His glasses were mirrored reflections of the fire, so I couldn’t really see his eyes, but I wondered what he was thinking about. I’m usually so focused on a story or avoiding any kind of intimacy with Clark at all costs, that I sometimes forget how to relate to other people on a personal level. I feel like an idiot for not asking about the doctor’s appointment that his parents’ had gone all the way to Wichita for.
“So, how’s your dad?” I asked shyly, trying to make up for not saying something earlier. “You said he had to go to this cardiologist in Wichita?”
“Yeah… he has high blood pressure and cholesterol. Mom keeps telling him to eat more Cheerios, but when you work on a farm, you need more energy. So he eats bacon and eggs every day.”
“Every day? Well it’s no wonder—“ I realized I was about to criticize Clark’s dad, and I thought better of it, laying a reassuring hand on Clark’s arm. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Lois.”
“So, do you think we can finish the Monopoly game in this light?”
~L&C~
Several hours and several wins later, I was really getting sleepy. But the thought of crawling upstairs away from the fire was not a pleasant thought.
I yawned one too many times, and Clark finally gave in. “It’s time for bed, Lois. You’re exhausted. Do you want to sleep down here by the fire? Or upstairs in my – in the bed?”
Honestly, I didn’t want to sleep in either spot alone. Down here, I thought I might get scared once Clark headed upstairs, the creaking of the farmhouse not being something I was used to. And upstairs was certainly likely to be cold after hours of the heat being off… However, at least upstairs was familiar. I had slept well last night. Perhaps once I got under the covers, I’d go right to sleep.
“I’ll be fine upstairs. But thanks, Clark.”
He got up and handed me a flashlight, with some of the extra batteries I had bought. “Guess these will come in handy after all. Let me know if you need anything during the night, okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm.
I took the flashlight, and had the urge to give him a good night hug, but resisted. We were work colleagues, and I needed to keep that distance.
“Good night, Clark,” I said as I headed up the stairs.
~L&C~
I did all I could to get warm under the covers, but it was no use. My teeth were practically chattering, and even with an extra sweatshirt and double socks, it was still too cold to sleep.
Eventually I gave up and quietly headed down the stairs, hoping the fire might be still going, but that Clark was asleep.
I glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after one in the morning. Clark had apparently banked the fire, so it would burn throughout the night, but it was much lower than when we had gone to bed. I was relieved to see that Clark looked like he was sleeping, and though I didn’t want to wake him, I was desperate for some warmth. I came over to where he lay by the fire, and stretched out my hands to what remained of it, though it wasn’t nearly enough to get rid of the chill from upstairs.
I pulled the blanket I had taken from the sofa earlier around my shoulders, debating what to do. I didn’t want to go back upstairs to where it was really cold, yet I couldn’t very well sleep on this hard floor either.
“Lois, are you okay?” I heard Clark say beside me, almost in a whisper.
I turned to him, surprised by his voice. “Did I wake you?” I asked.
“I wasn’t really sleeping yet… are you cold?”
I was afraid to tell him I was, worried he would think I was hoping to get snuggly under the covers with him. Yet, body heat was the best in the cold…
I nodded.
“Here,” he said, getting up to wrap his blanket around me. The blanket was warm from his body heat, and I sank into its folds.
“What about you? You were the one who wasn’t feeling well.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be all right. See? Here’s another blanket,” he pointed out, reaching for a blanket I hadn’t noticed that was slung over his father’s armchair. He scooted over to sit next to me by the fire. “I think maybe I should start it up again, what do you say?”
“Well, we surely aren’t going to be able to sleep the way it is now.”
Clark got up, leaving his blanket around his shoulders almost like a cape. It made me think of Superman, and I realized that I hadn’t thought of him all evening. Clark and I had had so much fun that I’d had no time to even bother worrying about if the Man of Steel even cared that I wasn’t in Metropolis…
“Too bad you aren’t Superman,” I muttered. “Heat vision would sure come in handy right about now.”
“Yeah, it would,” he answered dryly with a sigh. “Guess it’s the old fashioned-way for us tonight.” He threw on a few more logs, shoved in some old newspapers until they caught fire from the still hot coals; Clark had the fire roaring again in no time.
Clark came to sit down next to me, and we huddled together to get warm. We sat in companionable silence by the fire, just listening to the wood crackle now and then. I yawned, and felt the tug of sleep come over me, yet I didn’t want to go back upstairs to Clark’s cold bedroom. My head lolled to the side, and somehow my head ended up on Clark’s shoulder.
“Lois? Do you want to sleep down here?” he whispered to me. “I can go upstairs and—“
“No, it’s okay, Clark. You can stay down here,” I said, though I didn’t really think that through.
I just hated the idea of being down here all by myself. Maybe it was the city girl in me, afraid of the stillness of the country.
“Okay, then you take the sofa, and I’ll sleep here,” he offered, suddenly stretching out by the fire.
“Clark. Your back will be miserable in the morning if you do that. How about we sleep on opposite ends of the sofa? It’s large enough, I think.”
I got up and lay down on the end closest to the fire. Clark stretched out on the other end. The sofa was long enough so that my feet reached about as far as Clark’s hips and vice versa. Close enough that we’d be cozy, but not too close.
“Goodnight, Lois.”
It reminded me of the night we had staked out at the honeymoon suite in the Lexor Hotel. I smiled to myself, remembering how annoyed with him I had been that night. I heard myself answering, softly, “Goodnight, Clark,” before rolling onto my side to sleep.
~L&C~
A noise woke me some time later, sounding like it had come from outside.
I glanced over at Clark, and with just a low glow coming from the fire, it looked like he was sleeping. He was still wearing his glasses though, so it was hard to tell for certain. I sat up a little and nudged him. “Clark?”
“Hmm?” he murmured, probably still asleep.
“Clark,” I nudged his leg with my foot again, slightly harder. “I heard something outside.”
He sat up a little. “I didn’t hear anything,” he said, as if that ruled out all possibility that there could have been a noise.
“Clark! Go check it out – or I will,” I said, getting to my feet. I shivered. “But if I do, then I’m taking the blanket with me,” I warned, making a reach for it.
Clark harrumphed, but got up. “What do you think you heard?”
“I don’t know… something outside.”
“Maybe it was one of the animals… sometimes the cows get loose and-“
“In the middle of a snowstorm?” I asked, incredulous. Surely any bovine creatures would want to stay tucked up in some warm hay in the barn and not stalk around outside.
“You have a point. All right. I’ll check it out. You stay here,” he said, although I followed a few paces behind him.
Clark grabbed a flashlight, put on a heavy winter coat, and slipped into some work boots that I assumed were his dad’s. He turned to me, “Lois, stay here. It’s cold outside. No need for both of us to freeze,” he said, opening the back door. Feeling the wind sweep in, I reluctantly agreed, and nodded my consent.
“Just… hurry back.”
He turned and smiled at me, looking beatific, especially in the light of the flashlight. “Why? Will you miss me?”
I sighed with annoyance and crossed my arms. “No… I … just don’t like the idea of sitting in this creaky dark house all by myself!”
“I’ll be right back, Lois.”
I ran to the sofa to grab the blanket and then ran back to watch him through the kitchen window. I don’t know what I thought I heard, but I was suddenly regretting sending Clark out there all alone. He was the one who hadn’t been feeling well… and even if it is some stray cow, surely it wouldn’t get far in this snowstorm. I saw him walk over to the barn, a shadow against the white of the freshly fallen snow. It was dark outside, but the snow seemed to give off its own light.
Clark stepped into the barn, and then, his flashlight fell into the snowdrifts nearby the barn door. I rolled my eyes at his klutziness, waiting for him to come back out to get it, but he never came. The flashlight shone upwards out of the snow, like a lonely lighthouse.
Had something happened to Clark? I opened the screen door, pulling the edges of the blanket tighter around me. I almost called out Clark’s name, when I thought I heard voices coming from the barn. Someone else was out there… and I didn’t think it was a friend.
I hastily closed the door, grabbing my flashlight and looking for the kitchen phone. Calling the police would mean calling Rachel Harris, and as much as I didn’t like her, I couldn’t take the chance that Clark was in trouble. I didn’t know if she could get out here in this weather, but I had to try something.
I found the phone, but was thrown into a panic when I realized the phones were dead! Had the storm knocked out the phone lines, or was it whoever had waylaid Clark in the barn?
Breathe, Lane. I told myself. Perhaps it was just a recalcitrant cow and Clark was just having some difficulty with it. I paced the kitchen, with the flashlight off, thinking what to do. After another few minutes ticked by and Clark still hadn’t emerged out of the barn, I knew I had to face the cold to see if I could help him.
I ran upstairs with the flashlight and dug into Clark’s closet, looking for something warmer to put on. I grabbed a blue sweatshirt and a third pair of socks. Back downstairs, I went to the same closet Clark had got the coat and boots from, and I put on the other pair of boots, which I assumed were Martha’s and grabbed one of the winter coats. I reached up for hat and gloves as well, something Clark hadn’t bothered with earlier.
A prickle of fear went up my spine, as I worried that maybe Clark was in more danger than just dealing with a cow… maybe he had hurt himself. Or maybe… someone else really was out there.
Again, I shook off the notion, realizing out here in the country, that it was highly unlikely in a snowstorm, that some random criminal would be hanging out in the Kent barn. Still… I needed a weapon, just in case. I went back to the kitchen to look for something. I immediately ruled out knives, because the idea of using one in self-defense made me nervous. I needed something small enough to hide in my coat pocket, and yet strong enough to knock out any threat. Martha’s rolling pin? Maybe… Feeling like I was wasting valuable time, I took it with a frustrated grunt, and slipped it inside my jacket. There was a small pocket inside, and the handle end slid in, so I could hold it against my hip nearly inconspicuously.
I decided to leave my flashlight inside, so I could sneak up on whatever was going on in the barn. I just needed to follow the light of Clark’s flashlight anyway. The snow was coming down heavy again, and was a little more than halfway up my boots as I trudged across the lawn. The wind was biting, and through its whistle, I tried to hear what was going on in the barn.
Seeing that flashlight, so discarded, gave me an ominous sense of foreboding. There had to be something serious going on in the barn for him not to have retrieved the flashlight already, especially how weird he was about saving discarded objects. I remember when I had thrown out a pen, and he had given me some grand lecture about our throwaway society. No, there was definitely something amiss, and I would find out what it was.
As I neared the barn, I resisted the urge to call out Clark’s name, hearing something of a scuffle going on inside. As I edged to the barn door, I thought I heard a punch make contact with a face.
“Where is he?” said a man’s voice.
My heart hammered in my chest as I peeked around the corner. I caught just the glimpse of a man in military uniform standing over Clark, who was tied up in a chair. I couldn’t make out the thug’s face, but that voice was very familiar.
“I told you… I don’t know,” I heard Clark answer, sounding weary and defeated.
“Give up the alien!” said the man, slapping Clark once more. I realized with a gasp who he was.
Trask! But what was that military rogue doing out here bothering Clark in Smallville?
Suddenly, my rolling pin didn’t seem nearly as adequate, and I wish I had opted for a kitchen knife after all.
Trask stood over Clark, menacingly. “I'm going to make you a deal, trusting that your stay in Metropolis has put some sense in your head. Give up the alien, and I'll let you live.”
Clark seemed a bit worn out, but he answered back rather defiantly. “What makes you think I could do that if I wanted to?”
I knew it was imperative for me to stay hidden, and luckily, it was easy to do with so little light in the barn. I stepped inside and hid behind a stack of hay bales, watching for my moment to jump in and help Clark.
“Superman came to Smallville around the time you were born. There has to be a connection. Tell me and you live.”
Was that true? Why had Superman ever been to Smallville? And why would Trask think that Clark knew anything about it?
“There's nothing to tell. I'm learning all this for the first time now,” Clark answered, cool and reasonable. He seemed more perturbed by the interrogation than worried about how much danger he was in. I watched him carefully from my position, though I could only see him in profile.
Trask suddenly stomped angrily towards Clark, leaning over him, intimidating. “I'm trying to save humanity from an alien invader, Kent!”
Clark calmly answered, “You have no proof of that.”
“There's another possibility,” Trask mused as he paced around Clark, beginning to look entirely unhinged. “Perhaps the alien has taken over your mind, infused you with its power.”
“Nobody's infused me with any power. Nobody's taken over my mind,” Clark said calmly. He glanced ever so slightly my way, and then did a double take, as a look of horror crossed his features. He quickly schooled them though, as he turned back to Trask. “How did you even get out here in this storm? What did you expect me to do?”
Trask grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I found something on the Irigs’ property. Something that will save the human race from the alien invasion. Call Superman here, and I’ll show you.”
“Superman’s in Metropolis,” Clark said logically, though his face had gone pale. “I can’t summon him here.”
“But you do know how to contact him?” accused Trask.
“Superman… is a friend-- to the whole city of Metropolis. He’s no threat Trask. You are.”
“Ah but, if he is your friend, then eventually he’ll come for you, won’t he… or if not you, I bet he would if that nosy partner of yours were in danger.”
“Lois?” Clark whispered, seeming to resist the urge to glance in my direction. “She’s in Metropolis. You can’t get to her,” he strangled out.
Trask laughed, making me jump out of my own skin. “I know she’s here in Smallville. I have a small group searching the city for her… between the two of you being in danger, Superman is bound to show up.”
I saw Clark glance quickly in my direction, a strong note of warning in his eyes. He obviously wanted me to leave the barn. But to go where? Back in the house, where Trask would eventually find me anyway?
I longed to have Superman’s phone number in that moment on speed dial, some quick and easy way to call him and tell him the danger we were in. But at the same time, it seemed that Trask had a ready trap for Superman, though I couldn’t fathom what on earth it could be.
Somehow, Clark and I had to shake this madman on our own.
