From Part 4:
“Gee, what happened to you?” she asked, furrowing her brows as she gave him an once-over.
Clark looked down at himself, finding that he was covered in dirt. <Just great, Kent,> he thought angrily. <Why don’t you go out advertising that you’re a freak?>
“Dunno. I guess the wind must have blown the stuff right in my direction,” he said, inwardly wincing at the weak excuse. “I heard one of the fire-fighters mention something about a gas leak,” he added quickly, hoping to distract Lois. “We should call them later to get a final statement.”
“Good thinking,” Lois nodded and took his arm, dragging him towards the Daily Planet. “Now come on, we’ve got work to do.”
“Um, Lois, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get changed, first,” Clark replied, stopping her.
Lois rolled her eyes, unhappy with the delay. “Don’t make such a fuss!” she spat, cringing at her own harshness. “It’s really not that bad!” she hastily reassured him.
Clark only raised his brows.
“Okay, maybe it is that bad,” she conceded with a sigh. “Go.”
“I won’t be long,” he promised and flashed her a smile before he headed home.
Hurt before
Part 5:
The lecture hall was gradually emptying out. Lana had gotten up and just in time remembered to drag Clark along to go see Luthor up close. He still stood next to the podium and talked to some professors, who were congratulating him on his lecture. Now Clark stood next to Lana in the line of waiting students. Right in front of them was the Japanese guest student, positively giddy. Now and again he stood on his toes to get a better view of Luthor.
“He is such a great speaker,” Lana whispered excitedly.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Clark replied without much enthusiasm.
Truth be told, Luthor and his lecture were the last things on his mind. He just wanted to get out and take Lana somewhere a little more private. They needed to talk – he needed to find out if he could trust her. His stomach tightened – if she loved him enough to accept him in all his weirdness.
Clark sighed inaudibly and shuffled forward as yet another student had succeeded at shaking Luthor’s hand. Lana, too, was teetering on her toes to get a better view of the billionaire.
“Did you know that he recently got divorced?” Lana whispered, barely turning her head to look at Clark. “It was all over the papers. I bet he lost a small fortune.” She sounded a little too excited for Clark’s taste.
A lump settled in his stomach at the mere thought of a failed marriage. His parents were so happy with each other that divorce had always been far from his mind. But now that he was contemplating taking the next step in his relationship with Lana…
<Just stop it right there,> Clark berated himself. <You love Lana and she loves you. That’s all you need to know.>
Forcing his mind from the reiterating thoughts, Clark had a closer look at Lex Luthor. He sure knew how to look good in a suit, but then, the suit alone had probably cost a fortune. Not that it would matter to a man who was aspirating to become one of the wealthiest men in the US. Clark recapped what he knew about Lex Luthor. Admittedly, it wasn’t much. He was an enigma and a few years ago he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His rise to the top of the business world had been fast. He owned enterprises all over the world and his name was associated with many charity events. All in all, he seemed to be one of the good guys.
Gradually, they approached Luthor. If Clark did not want to be viewed as the pitiable guy who counted attending a lecture as a date, he had to find a question he could ask Luthor. Clark felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered that there had been a whole speech he could have written about. Well, it was no use crying over spilled milk. Professor Carlton would certainly tell him that it took much more skills to write an interesting article out of a single question. But what kind of question was that supposed to be?
* * *
Roughly twenty minutes after taking his leave, Clark entered the Daily Planet. He was not sure whether using his powers had been a wise decision. Luthor’s focus would be on him, now that he lived in Metropolis. But he could not have watched a man die, if he could so easily prevent it. It certainly had not been prudent to take the additional risk of flying home to get changed. He could not claim that he regretted it, though. He had sorely missed the thrill of flying in broad daylight, when there was nothing to cover him but the effect of speed.
Actually, the flight had even given him a fresh boost of energy. The literal change of perspective had opened his mind to the possibility, that investigating the explosion of the Messenger with Lois could be the first step to bringing Luthor down.
So, Clark felt kind of energetic and too restless to take the lift. As he rushed up the stairs, taking two at a time, yet restraining himself to human limits, his hearing picked up Lois’ voice.
“It will work, it has to!” she said, stubbornly. “Please, Jimmy.”
Clark blinked. <Did she just say ‘please’?> he wondered wryly. <Must be some favor she’s asking.> He chuckled, slowing down his steps as he listened curiously.
“I don’t know, Lois. My voice doesn’t sound anything like Clark’s,” Jimmy objected. “They will never fall for it.”
“Well, it certainly won’t hurt to try,” Lois replied, making it sound like an order.
A quick scan with his x-ray vision showed Clark that Lois was picking up the phone and dialing a number before she handed Jimmy the receiver. His hand trembled as he took it. Sweat appeared on his forehead and he shifted his weight, nervously waiting for someone to take the call. He listened to the line ringing, biting his lips. Lois watched him intently, her gaze never wavering. For long seconds nothing seemed to happen. The tension that was visible in Jimmy’s features was gradually abating.
Jimmy let his arm sink, seeming relieved that no one had answered, when suddenly a female voice said, “Mr. Luthor’s office, this is Mrs. Cox speaking.”
Jimmy almost dropped the receiver as he hurried to lift it up again. “He…hello this… this is Cla… Clark Kent,” he choked out. At Lois’ thumbs-up sign, he added more firmly. “I’m a good friend of Mr. Luthor. May I please speak to him?”
His request was answered with a brief silence. Lois teetered on her toes, keeping her fingers crossed. Jimmy had his eyes closed and Clark stood in the stairwell, frozen to the spot. The door to the newsroom was only a few feet away. He eyed it, seriously contemplating rushing in and crumbling the receiver in his hands. The muscles in his jaw twitched.
But he stayed and listened as Mrs. Cox’s voice spoke up again, “Ah, Mr. Kent, it’s a pleasure hearing from you. I’ll put you through.”
“Thanks,” was all Jimmy could say, before Lois grabbed the phone, giddy with excitement.
<The nerve of that woman!>, Clark thought, both annoyed and fascinated. <Change of strategy, no kidding.>
He had been wondering why Lois had not again urged him to do the interview. Addressing the matter would only have invited Lois to continue her inquiry, though and that was the last thing Clark wanted. So he had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. As it turned out, he really did not like the reason for her diffidence.
“Clark, I didn’t expect to hear from you,” Luthor said, being his usual charming self.
“Uh, hello Lex, it’s actually Lois Lane. I hope you don’t mind the charade. But since you haven’t been answering any of *my calls*, I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get to talk to you,” she said boldly.
“Lois Lane?” he chuckled, sounding amused rather than angry. “I must admit that ignoring your calls was probably a mistake.”
“That it was. I hope you’ll forgive my boldness,” she replied sweetly.
“Boldness is a trait I admire in women,” he conceded.
“So does that mean I’m getting an interview?” she asked innocently.
“I’m afraid not, Lois,” he declined. “I hope you can understand my reluctance. A man in my position…I wouldn't want to be misinterpreted, and I have had one or two bad experiences with the media.”
“But not with me,” Lois objected.
“I’d let Clark do the interview,” he offered.
“Clark won’t do it,” Lois pointed out. “He thinks he’s too close and Perry White agrees. I doubt he would print such an interview for fear of being condemned as untrustworthy. I, on the other hand…” her voice trailed off.
For a moment Luthor said nothing, leaving Clark wondering if he had hung up. Lois was biting her lips while she waited. Nervously, she twisted the cord around her fingers and opened her mouth more than once as if to add something. She caught herself every time, obviously deciding that it was better to leave him dangling in the air. An interview with the Daily Planet, with Lois Lane in particular, was a privilege, one that distinguished important people from mere mortals. Despite her young age, Lois had that kind of reputation and she knew it.
“Lois, why don’t we make it dinner, then?” Luthor finally asked.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Lois replied and listened again as Lex Luthor suggested a date. She readily agreed before she finally hung up. Proudly, she beamed at Jimmy. “See, that’s how it’s done.”
As if the spell on him had been broken by her words, Clark found himself able to move again. He raked a hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses. His first impulse was to rush in and confront Lois. She was actually about to steal his story – one that he had never intended to write, but that was beside the point. The problem was that he could not explain how exactly he had been able to eavesdrop.
So, Clark took a deep calming breath, and adjusted his glasses once more for good measure. He opened the door to the newsroom and stepped back into its restlessness. Lois was sitting at her desk, smiling to herself, inebriated by her own success. Jimmy had already run off on another errand that either Lois or Perry had sent him on. Midway to Lois’ desk, Clark slackened his pace. He was not sure, whether he was yet ready to face Lois. Sighing, he headed for his own desk.
“Morning, handsome,” Cat Grant, who seemingly had appeared out of nowhere, purred.
The society columnist had started hitting on him on his first day of working for the Daily Planet. Ever since he had been partnered with Lois, she had doubled her efforts. It made Clark wonder if she had a real interest in him, or if this was mainly about ticking Lois off. She wore a dress that revealed more than it covered. It screamed *Take me, I’m yours* in a way that made Clark uncomfortable. That was not because he was overly prudish, he just felt that there was maybe more to Cat than her active love life. But she preferred to show the world an artificial version of herself, which, frankly, put Clark off.
“Oh, hi, Cat.” He greeted her without much enthusiasm. “If you'll excuse me…”
“No, I don't think I will excuse you,” she said, pouting. “I've asked you to have dinner with me two times.” She placed her hand on his chest, fumbling with his tie and looking at him with puppy dog eyes. “That's two times more than I've ever had to ask any man to do anything.”
Her every move, her every gesture had seduction written all over it. Nothing she ever did happened without purpose. Briefly, Clark wondered what it would be like to know the real Cat Grant, the woman underneath all those layers of make-up and acting.
“I'm sorry, Cat, but I've been really swamped,” Clark hedged, carefully withdrawing his tie from her grasp. “Lois and I…”
“Poor Lois. All work and no personality,” Cat cut him off.
“Anyway…” Clark muttered.
“Clark… there is a call for you on line two,” Pete of the sports section yelled right at that moment.
“Be right there,” Clark replied with relief. “Sorry, Cat,” he said hastily and hurried towards his desk.
Cat was just too much. And it had pained Clark to listen to what she said about Lois. His partner had a great personality, as annoying as she sometimes tended to be. Lois was not always easy, but at least she was real. It was not something he could honestly say about Cat.
A moment later he picked up the phone. “Clark Kent.”
“Please wait a moment, I’m going to put you through to Mr. Luthor,” a female voice chirped and soon was replaced by soft music.
Clark froze. All of the sudden he felt like he had been doused in a bucket of ice water. An unpleasant flutter filled his belly and his heart started to pound. Before he could do anything about it, before he had time to contemplate simply hanging up, a soft crackle announced that there was once again someone at the other end of the line.
“Hi Clark, it was nice seeing you again the other day. I had invited you so often I’d almost lost hope that you were ever going to come.” Lex Luthor said cheerily. On a more serious note, he added. “I was afraid that you might be holding a grudge against me. I can’t begin to tell you how deeply sorry I am, for a lot of things.”
“You know why I needed to leave,” Clark breathed and dropped down onto his chair, before his legs gave out under him.
“Yeah, I do,” Luthor replied gravely. “Lana’s death was a terribly tragedy. I still can’t believe that…” He paused and for a moment, Clark could only hear Luthor’s breathing. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Neither can I…” Clark choked out, his voice thick with emotion. It was a miracle the receiver did not crumble in his hands.
“I keep thinking that I should have stayed with her. When she came to me after she had broken up with you, she was so distraught…” his voice trailed off and Clark heard Luthor swallow at the other end of the line. “I guess she must have regretted leaving you… She shouldn’t have driven in her state of mind.”
Luthor’s words reverberated in Clark’s ears. Lana had been distraught, pretty much so. No one knew that better than him. Her reaction still pained him deeply. Clark was angry at her and that made it all so much more difficult, so much more confusing. It was inappropriate to be angry. That sentiment only fueled his guilt and thus his need to find out what Luthor had done to Lana. But it also reminded Clark of the fact that he might be on a wild goose chase.
Clark closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the rising nausea. It was the thorn that kept pricking in his side, this nagging fear that Luthor might be telling the truth. Could Lana really have died in a car crash? Or was it just too much of a coincidence? Clark had travelled all over the world, trying to gather evidence. He had a whole box of hints that painted a frightening picture of Luthor’s true character. Yet, he still could not prove that Luthor had actually killed Lana. It all might just be a theory Clark had carefully constructed to alleviate his own sense of guilt.
Clark heard Luthor talking, but he did not understand a word he was saying. It ultimately did not matter. Luthor was playing his buttons, Clark reminded himself, desperately trying to regain a modicum of self-control. It was one of the many reason, Clark had kept his distance over the past years. He could not afford to let his own guilt overpower him. He could not lose sight of his objective – he needed to bring Luthor to justice.
<Your Mom’s right – that does sound awfully obsessive,> the nagging voice of guilt threw in.
“Did you know that your partner tried to set up an interview with me?” Luthor chuckled, obviously having changed the topic somewhere along the way. “She’s pretty ambitious.”
“That she is,” Clark desperately tried to sound casual, friendly even. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Why don’t you let her do it? I’d lose all credibility if anyone found out that we are friends.” He almost choked on that last word.
“I don’t buy that, Clark, not one moment. You’re a professional reporter, you won a Kerth. Don’t think I missed that,” Luthor said emphatically. “Look, I respect that you want to make it on your own. Seriously, I do. But you could do so much better, Clark. I could give your career a head start. Besides, you’re the only one I know I can trust.”
Clark slowly let out his breath, trying not to let his frustration seep into his words. “Let Lois do the interview. She deserves it and…”
“You’re never going to get to the top of the journalist world by stepping aside and letting others get the stories, Clark,” Luthor interrupted him. “I bet she wouldn’t hesitate, if given the chance. I heard that her colleagues call her ‘Mad Dog Lane’.”
Clark could well imagine the smirk that was now plastered across Luthor’s face. It sent a shiver down his spine. Right now, he felt as if the billionaire stood right behind him, breathing down his neck and following his every move. He seemed to know more than he was supposed to.
“Think about it; the offer stands,” Luthor continued. “How about we meet for lunch? Tomorrow? Twelve o’clock?”
“I don’t know if I can make it. I’m pretty busy, lately,” Clark apologized.
“You could bring Ms. Lane as well,” Luthor said sweetly. “She’s a beautiful young lady. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. Bye, Clark.”
“Yeah, bye,” Clark muttered, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.
How was it that - voiced by Luthor - even a compliment contained a hidden threat? Clark hung up the phone, staring at it for a long moment. Luthor held a power over him that frightened Clark.
Coming to Metropolis should have been a coup. He had almost all the evidence he needed to expose Luthor’s evilness to the world. What he lacked was an impeccable reputation. Thus, he had come to the Daily Planet, one of the few papers in the world that was widely trusted and would not be afraid to expose Luthor. Lois Lane was another reason why Clark had chosen the Planet. It was vital that there was someone who could take over the story if Clark’s worst fear would come true.
Ever since Clark had gotten to know Lois, he had congratulated himself on his choice. Now, he was not so sure anymore. Until two weeks ago, Lois had been just a famous name without a face. Then she was a co-worker who called him a hack. But much to his dismay, she was gradually becoming someone he cared for, despite everything she had done to him. Could he really stomach sending her into the lion’s den?
Clark closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Conflicting emotions surged through him: fear of exposure, a desperate need for retribution and a deep sense of guilt. He just was not sure if he would be able to live with himself if Lana had died in a car crash because she had been too distraught by learning that her boyfriend was a freak to pay any attention to the oncoming traffic.
A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned forward again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He tried to shake the gloom. It was no use fretting over what had been. A whole box of evidence told the story the way he believed events had unfold. He was here in Metropolis working with the most renowned journalists of the world. And one of them was sitting a few feet across form him, sifting through a pile of notes.
Clark decided to ignore his sense of dread and walked over to Lois, nodding at the notes in her hands. “Anything?”
“Clark, I…” she started, but bit her lip, interrupting herself. She shook her head, sadly. “Never mind. I must have called fifty ex-employees who worked at EPRAD when Platt did. None of them are talking. I don't know, maybe there's just nothing to talk about.” She threw her notes onto her desk, discouraged.
“I believe Platt,” Clark stated firmly. “It is too much of a coincidence that the Messenger blows up just a day after he storms into the newsroom claiming it will. So, what do we do now?” Clark sat down on the edge of her desk.
Lois smiled at his encouragement. “First off, we piece together Platt's report, if that's possible.” She showed him a pile of jumbled papers that Jimmy must have brought in while they had been gone. “Then, we figure out how to prove that Dr. Baines got a copy of it. If we have any written evidence that Platt found coolant devices and Baines ignored it…” she sighed, looking first at the pile of papers in her hand and then at Clark. “I hope you haven't made any dinner plans.”
Clark shrugged and forced a smiled on his lips. “I'm all yours.”
to be continued...
Last edited by bakasi; 08/09/14 03:52 PM.
