I said two posts a week, I started tinkering with the story (specifically the latter half of this post) and therefore, I lied. I apologize for the delay. Despite my sleep deprivation at the moment, I am forcing myself to post this before I retire for the night (meaning I take no credit for any typos or nonsensical ramblings in this introduction).
Thanks to everyone who read the first two parts (especially those of you who speed read the previous stories only to have me drop the ball on this).
Cheers,
Elle
From Part 2
Two weeks later, Lois saw a small item in an English-language paper mentioning the continued search for Lois Lane, a missing reporter authorities were starting to believe was dead. And that, Lois realized, was the perfect cover to finish the investigation that was turning out to be much more complex than she could have ever imagined.
Who would ever watch for a dead reporter?
~
Part 3
Clark looked at Lois for a long time after she finished her story, which he knew was the extremely edited version designed to withhold information pertaining to her investigation. Words failed him.
"If you're done, boy scout, I have other things to do." Lois started to turn around but stopped and for the first time since meeting him, spoke with a sincere tone. "This wasn't exactly what I thought I was getting myself into four years ago, but that's life. And it's going to be worth it."
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why can't you tell me more than the bare bones?"
Lois had been about to explain why the story was worth it, when she realized that was not what he had asked. No, he wanted to know why he, Mr. all-American Spandex, could not be trusted with the details of a story she had spent four years of her life working on. He had known her for all of an hour, and here he was demanding to be privy to her most closely guarded secrets. He had some nerve - she had worked alone this entire time, in much more dangerous situations than grand re-openings of city zoos.
"Lois, I can help you. Maybe help speed up the investigation, help you return to your old life. You know the Daily Planet would rehire you in an instant. I'm not trying to steal your story. I just want you to be able to come home," Clark said softly, looking at a point beyond her shoulder.
"I do too," Lois replied, lost in the expression on his face - which was, to her surprise, an embodiment of all her fears these past four years. She was sick of running - even she was not so caught up in this story that she deluded herself into thinking otherwise. But never had she been able to voice it aloud. And here, thousands of miles from the place that had given her a cover story and hundreds of miles from the city that had been home for the first two and a half decades of her life, she finally began to feel the weight of the burden on her shoulders.
Clark looked at her then, caught her eyes and the wistful look present in them. "Let me help you, Lois. Please. Let me do this for you."
It was funny, Lois thought, that she only fully realized the weight of everything that had happened when someone offered to lessen her load. Of course, it would be the strongest man in the world who would offer his aid - who else would be able to hold such a burden, Lois thought, the barest bit of joy floating in her mind. But it was more than that, she knew. After four years of always assuming the worst of people, she had become quite adept at reading people's expressions, and Clark Kent's told her every word he said now that she had stopped trying to throw up barriers in his path was true. More than that, though, his eyes said that he knew something of heartbreak in his own life, something the television reports and newspaper photos never relayed to the world about its superhero. She connected with that pain, that kindred sense of being alone in the world.
"Okay."
~
His apartment looked different.
Or maybe it was just him.
Clark walked into his bedroom, spun out of the suit and stepped into the shower, ready to let the water wash over him and give him some time to think. He was in no hurry and wanted nothing more than to simply stay in this moment.
He still wasn't quite sure what had happened or why. One minute he could feel himself stepping closer and closer to watching Lois Lane walk out of his life again, and the next, he was her partner, or perhaps more realistically, a generally tolerated servant who could be expected to be treated very badly. And while some part of him said it was wrong, he was an addict finally able to get a fix - who was he to complain of the specifics?
All that mattered was that she had not cut him out of her life, not told him to never come near her again. They were meeting Thursday morning at her current place of residence: a rundown, fully furnished apartment in one of the outlying areas of Cincinnati. It was the type of place, Clark noted, where everyone seemed to be hiding something, and as a result, everyone kept to himself, lest his secret be discovered. His first reaction had been to suggest a safer place until he realized that she had no doubt lived and survived in worse. Still half afraid of losing her, he held his tongue.
For the first time since discovering that picture so many weeks ago, Clark Kent felt at peace. Even the little nagging voice saying that tomorrow morning would find this all to be a dream couldn't phase him. His heart said this was right, and that was all he needed to know.
~
At 7 am on the appointed day, Clark Kent stood at the door to Apartment 215 in the Shady River Apartment Complex. In his hands he held a bag of Artie Smith's famous cinnamon breakfast pretzels - a Metropolis culinary landmark - plus a notebook. Almost a minute after knocking, Lois opened the door, a neutral expression on her face.
Clark looked her over. She was real and standing in front of him. That last bit of doubt, of worrying that she was going to pack up and leave in the middle of the night, vanished.
"Clark, come in."
"I hope you don't mind. I brought some Artie's pretzels," Clark said, holding up the bag and figuring this was as good a way as any to start the conversation.
Lois perked up at that. "Really? I haven't had an Artie's pretzel in forever. I loved them as a kid. When I was 12, I ate five of the caramel pretzels with chocolate dipping sauce in one night and couldn't touch them for months afterwards."
"You ate five of them?"
Lois grinned. "My sister dared me too. Dad was furious when he found out. He's a doctor and, well, he hates sugar."
"I think Perry mentioned that to me once," Clark replied. Seeing the expression on Lois' face, Clark knew that had probably been the wrong thing to say. "He's mayor now, you know."
"Yeah, I read about it. I was in Des Moines, Iowa at the time. I think maybe the only place that has more cornfields than Iowa is Kansas," Lois remarked. "No offense, of course. You're from there, aren't you?"
Clark nodded. "Smallville. It's a farming community. I haven't been back in years."
"It's funny, you know. I lived in Metropolis until four years ago but in some ways, the places I've been in for a fraction of the time since have been so much more important," Lois commented. "But then, growing up in Metropolis defined me more than I ever want to admit. I guess I'm still trying to figure out if, once this is all said and done, this part of my life is going to end up changing who I am more than anything else I do."
Clark glanced at Lois. She was very contemplative, much more so than her counterpart from the alternate universe. He wondered if she had always been that way or if four years on the run was the reason for it.
"Either way, it doesn't really matter. See, this is what happens when you don't really interact with people beyond business transactions for months on end," Lois explained. "Anyway, let's crack open the pretzels and get done to business. The way I see it, you can do the research I need at the Planet and bring it to me."
Lois bit into a pretzel as she finished talking.
Clark, never one to interrupt anyone with such a look of rapture upon her face, remained quiet for a moment. When it became clear to him she was more caught up in the wonders of the pretzel, he prompted her. "And?"
"Clark, these are amazing. Thank you," Lois said. "And what?"
"Other than research?"
Lois shrugged. "That's all I need you for right now."
"But - "
"Clark, you said you wanted to help. That's what I need at this point. Or is that a problem?"
Clark knew she was baiting him. One minute she was reminiscing about her childhood to him as if they were close friends and the next she was eating a pretzel while laying out ground rules as if he were no more than nuisance.
"Ok, I can do that."
Lois nodded as she dusted off her hands to give Clark a piece of paper. "This is a list of the stories or subjects I'm particularly interested in. It also recommends search words and that sort of thing. The bottom line is, though, that I want every single article ever written about CostMart." Lois picked up a stapled group of papers next. "This is a copy of my list of stories I've already found. I haven't had access to a computer or I would have typed it up, but given that you work at superspeed, I figure this won't be a problem for you to organize. You need to make sure that if you do any work on your computer, you place the files in a password-protected folder. You with me so far?"
Clark nodded. "So, keep track of the articles I retrieve for you and find everything that was ever written about CostMart?"
Lois swallowed a bite of pretzel before giving a half shrug. "Yes and no. The previous five years are the most important. I think if there's anything there, it will be in that time period. And if not, we can go back as necessary."
Clark finished writing down the instructions and looked up. "What else?"
"For now, that will be it. I'll only tell you things as you need to know them," Lois said. "Welcome aboard, partner."
"Partner? Lois, don't take this the wrong way, but I feel more like your slave."
"Clark, this is an egalitarian relationship. You want to help. I am acknowledging you and letting you help, despite my own reservations. What's not fair about that?" Lois asked, a hint of sugar-coated sarcasm in her tone.
"Well, I guess I misspoke then. My apologies, partner. Does this mean we share a byline?"
Lois' expression clearly indicated she was caught in her own game. "We'll see about that. But if we do, and let me tell you it's a fairly big if, it will be with my name first."
"Agreed," Clark promised. "Lois, why do you want me to dig up all these old articles? Most will be from the same press releases or publicity campaigns. I know it can help with timelines, dates and other background information but the actual investigation? I'm fairly sure no one else in the media suspects the Churches. Or if they do, they're pretty quiet about it."
Lois gave Clark what he thought was a fairly patronizing smile. "Bits and pieces, Clark, bits and pieces. Someone reports one thing, and someone else reports another. Alone they are useless but together they help clear up the picture. Right now, I'm two big leads away from cracking this thing open. And my gut says one of those leads is buried somewhere in the public eye."
TBC
