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Henderson huffed with exasperation. "Look, Kent, I don't have an S-signal, so just do me a favor and let the big guy know I want to talk to him, okay? One of these days you'll have to explain to me how you manage to get in touch with him whenever you want to."

"My parents... they'll take over." Now she had to swallow. "When they know... At the hospital. They'll want... Promise me you won't let them do anything... I don't want to be a vegetable, Clark!"
Tears were flowing freely now, but she made no attempt to stop them. "No machines. No tubes. No ven... ventilator. Just... let me go cleanly, okay? Please!"

"Stay here," he ordered her tersely. He took a fast look around
before spinning. There was no one else to see.

"Nice trick," she said with ill-concealed envy. "What I wouldn't
give. I could set my alarm for, like, three seconds before the
morning conference. Wake up and twirl-thingy, and still have time
to boil an egg...I think. Never really been good at that-"

"Stay here," he repeated, cutting her off with a meaningful
stare.

"Sure," she agreed offhandedly. "And Clark...?" He was in the
air. "Be careful."

That gave him a half seconds pause. "If you do leave, get someone
to walk you to your car." At her expression, he pushed on. "Humor
me. And I'll...see you tomorrow."

It wasn't that long, though. It was just a few hours later when
he saw her again. She was falling off a building.

Lois gazed absently at the red digital numbers counting up the floors and tried to ignore the part of herself insisting that she didn't actually mind being alone in the elevator with this man. He wasn't bad looking, after all. Well, okay, the hair needed some work. It reminded her of a fourth grade kid who never realized his short haircut had outgrown itself until his mother dragged him off to the barber shop. But you could forgive the hair for the sake of those deep, dark eyes that looked like their owner could never hurt anyone. And the smile that made her feel like she was the most important thing in his world. And...and...um...and he'd noticed she was staring at him.

She whipped her head back around to examine the digital numbers that were taking their own sweet time in rising. Just where were you going with that anyway, Lane? she questioned herself. Get a grip! The man is not a manic serial killer who lures innocent women into abandoned elevators, and he is not madly in love with you!

"I figured you'd be here, Lane," Inspector Henderson remarked dryly.

Lois eyed him warily, "And why is that, Henderson?"

"We have this hurricane tracking chart down at the station," Henderson said, and glanced at the debris that was once the Ace o' Clubs, "And it said something slammed into Suicide Slum this evening. I'm just glad I have a name to go with the destructive force."

"Cute, Henderson."

"Well, I think I got it all out," Clark said as he exited the washroom dabbing at his tie.

"Kent?" Henderson shook his head. "I thought you'd have more sense than to take an assignment in this part of town."

"Well, I--"

"We're on a date, Henderson, and it was Clark's idea to come here."

"Ah," Henderson nodded. "Love induced idiocy. I can accept that."

"Hey!--"

"Save it, Lane," Henderson said, and glanced down at Big Joey. "Who did this?"

"Superman."

Henderson looked over his shoulder at a couple of uniformed officers, and then pointed down at Big Joey. The officers helped the groggy man to his feet, and escorted him out of the club. "No telling how many lives Superman saved by putting Bibboski's buffet out of commision."

Clark laughed, and then felt Lois place her hand on his chest. "I'm going to go break off my other heel, comb my hair, and then we can go."

"Here," Clark said, and knelt down in front of her.

"Perfect place to propose to Lane."

Lois sighed, "Go chalk some tires, Henderson."

"No, Mom, I'm okay. Really, I am. Married? Yes, actually I am. I would have called you but it was so sudden. Who? Well, you remember me telling you about Lois? The girl I met in D.C. and that I was pretty sure that Lois Lane was her? Well, that's who I married. No, we haven't had a chance to talk about all of that yet. Dad? Everything is fine, really. No, I haven't told her yet. We haven't had a chance to really talk things out. No, I don't know where we are going to live. I know, Dad, like a frog. I've heard it a million times. Yes, I'll bring her out to meet you soon. No, probably not tonight. I mean, how could we get there so fast? It would cost an arm and a leg to get plane tickets on such short notice. No, I don't think that it's a good idea for you to come here. Where would you stay? We don't even have a place of our own yet. And my sister-in-law," Lois smiled at that remark, "is staying at Lois' apartment right now. Look, Mom, Dad, I gotta go. We're already late for work and Perry's sure to fire me at least. No, we aren't taking any time off just yet. I'm sure he would give us the time, but he doesn't know yet. You're the only people who know. Except for the three people at the wedding. I don't even know if Lois told the clerk at the hotel when we checked in last night. No, not this hotel. Give me a little credit, Mom. We stayed downtown. Now, I really have to go. I'll call you later. I love you, too. Bye."

She watched as his expression softened, then he leaned over and kissed her.
"Thank you." He took his free hand and reached for hers, playing with
her fingers in a way that told her he wasn't completely ready to let go of
this problem. "I guess you're right. Sometimes people do crazy things for
the people they love. But, doing crazy things and being crazy enough to
kill yourself are two different things, Lois."

"But, honey, the coroner said that while it was unusual for a suicide to
shoot themselves in the back of the head, it wasn't entirely unprecedented.
The angle was achievable and they did find gunpowder traces on her hands
and the gun beside the body, remember."

"They also found a bruise on her cheek and another on her arm."

"Which she could have gotten in that fight with her boyfriend."

"Ah, yes," Clark replied skeptically. "The fight she mentioned in her
suicide note. But what if that note was phoney? Then those bruises could
have been caused by her murderer."

"I thought of that, too, but if her boyfriend was the murderer then why
would he leave a note lying around that could incriminate him?"

"Maybe he didn't know about it.".

"Maybe ..." Lois thought of another point. "Henderson said they haven't
been able to ID any boyfriend for her, anyway. Maybe she imagined him
because she wanted one so badly."

"And gave herself those bruises, too?"

Lois frowned as she thought over the various possibilities. "I know
it doesn't make much sense, Clark, but we've seen even stranger things than
this before."

They were silent for a moment or two, sipping their hot drinks. "This
whole situation just bugs me," Clark said eventually. "I feel like we're
missing some vital bit of information that would make it all fall right
into place."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes I almost think I've got the missing piece
of the puzzle, but then it turns out that it doesn't quite fit after all.
We both know how good I am at sniffing out conspiracies, but I just can't
see it here ... at least not with what we've been able to learn so far.
There's just this one pathetic girl who wanted someone love her, and
another even more pathetic woman who couldn't give up her fantasies about a
married man."

What does IABP mean?

"How do things look for us, Ms. Hunter?" Clark asked.

"Please call me 'Constance,' she told them with a smile. She could
hardly blame them for wanting to get to the point. Laura was an adorable
child--dark hair and eyes, lovely skin and a winning smile. She certainly
didn't look neglected.

"Thank you," Clark said. "And you don't have to be formal with us,
either. 'Lois and Clark' will be fine."

"All right. Then let's get down to work." She picked up some
official looking documents from her desk and handed them to Lois and Clark.
"I'd say things look good. I have depositions from your pediatrician and
the neighbor you said did some baby-sitting for you a couple of times.
I've also spoken with Perry White, James Olsen and Penelope Barnes. All of
these people have agreed to testify on your behalf. Still no word from
your parents, Clark?"

Clark shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, it will probably be all right any way. These other people will be
good witnesses. With the exception of the pediatrician, they've all been
to your house--sometimes arriving unannounced--and say they can attest to
your care of Laura."

At the sound of her name, Laura turned her face to Constance and smiled.
The attorney found herself smiling back, and addressed her next remarks
towards the baby. "And once the judge sees how normal and healthy this
little cutie looks, well ... it will be an open and shut case, won't it,
Laura?"

Laura grinned even wider, then hid her face against her daddy's jacket.
She had only begun to interact with other people in the last month, and so
this was still a new game for her. The adults laughed at her expressions,
relief intermixed with the humor.

Clark shrugged and ripped open the envelope. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it. "It's a note." He frowned over the unfamiliar handwriting, and read it aloud.

Dear Clark,
This belongs with the ring you found in your
grandmother's memory box. I know you don't think
too much of girls yet, but that's going to change
in the next few years and someday you'll meet
someone you want to be with for the rest of your
life. When that happens, it would please me if
you'd think about honoring that love with this
gift.
With admiration and respect,
Kal-El

Clark looked in the envelope again, and shook something out into his hand. He puzzled over it for a minute, then dangled a long silver chain from his fingers. On the end of the chain swung the companion to the ring in Martha's box -- a woman's wedding band.

The very next day, she fell from the observation deck of the Metropolis Planetarium. Up until Lois nearly died, it had been a wonderful night.

Lois looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as she noted his rigid posture and the stubborn set of his jaw. She was going to have to resort to high-pressure tactics. "Clark," she said sweetly, "if you don't stop avoiding me, I'm going to write an article telling everyone that you're Superman."

"You wouldn't do that," he said with more confidence than he felt. "You wouldn't expose Superman."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" retorted Lois. "Read about it in tomorrow's Daily Planet!"

"But ... that's blackmail, Lois!" Clark protested.

"So?"

"So, you can't do that!"

"You know how to stop me ..." she said.