From Part 5:

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.”

Hurt Before

Part 6


Clark stifled a yawn, feeling his eyelids droop. He forced them back open. The drive down Interstate 35 always tired him out. Not one of his strange powers seemed to counteract the somniferous effect of the endless fields beside the painfully straight road. The fading light of day only made things worse. This brief glimpse of normalcy in Clark’s otherwise so weird life actually would have been kind of pleasant, if the coffee he was sipping from his Styrofoam cup had any effect on him whatsoever.

Lana sat in the passenger seat, taking a nap. Her steady, deep breaths only served to increase Clark’s own weariness. He blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear the cob webs. His gaze briefly turned to the speedometer. The needle showed 70 mph, which was the only real indication that they made any progress at all.

The other night had stretched on later than Clark had anticipated. Admittedly, chatting with Lex Luthor had been surprisingly pleasant, even if it had meant foregoing his date with Lana. Never in his wildest dreams would Clark have imagined that attending the lecture would ultimately result in going out for a drink with the millionaire. For that, he had to thank the giddy Japanese student. The young man had been so excited that he had voiced his enthusiasm in a quick splutter of Japanese. Without really thinking about it, Clark had stepped in to translate. As it turned out, Lex was fluent in the language himself.

During the ensuing conversation, Clark found out that they shared a knack for languages and a desire to explore the world. It had made for a very interesting evening. Of course, Clark had not been able to admit just how many places he had visited during the few months he had travelled after finishing high school. Luthor had been excited to meet a man who was equally as well read and spoke more than half a dozen languages fluently.

At first Lana had used the opportunity to talk a little more about business and her thesis. Luthor had willingly provided her with some insights he had gained from his dealings. But later she had been bored out of her mind and had left early. Lana had not been all too happy about the course of the evening. There was no doubt about that. On their ride back, she had given him the silent treatment until she had finally dozed off. Who had wanted to meet Lex Luthor in the first place, seemed like a moot point.

Anyway, Clark had been amazed to meet someone who was even remotely like himself - someone who had seen as many things and whose life was as strange, although for completely different reasons. Luthor seemed detached, he was an orphan like Clark, though he lacked the loving family Clark had grown up in. Most importantly, Luthor seemed to strive for something he had not found yet. Clark felt that they yearned for the same thing – a sense of belonging.

Next to Clark, Lana stirred. “What time is it?” she muttered with a yawn and glanced around, taking in the darkening sky.

Clark sat straight, a little surprised at being pulled from his thoughts so suddenly. He cast a quick look at his watch.

“Half past eight,” he replied. “We just passed Emporia. I guess we’ll be driving another hour or so.”

“Great.” She smiled at Clark and raised her hand to cover another yawn. “This has been one hell of a week. I’m glad we decided to head home for the weekend.”

“Yeah, me too,” Clark muttered in agreement, glad that she did not sound quite as aloof as she had before.

From the corner of his eye he watched her warily, trying to determine if the change in mood was going to last. Lana dropped her hand again, folding her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes met his and in the dim light of dusk Clark could see that her cheeks were flushed. She averted her gaze quickly, unfolded her arms again and studied her finger nails with fake curiosity.

“Lana, about last night…” Clark began.

“I’m sorry, Clark. I really am. Meeting Luthor was my idea, not yours.” She did not look up and bit her lips to keep them from quivering. “Guess I got a little intense, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay, Lana. I had a nice evening, but it would have been even better if it had been just the two of us.” He lifted his right hand from the steering wheel to give her leg a gentle squeeze.

“Really?” A hopeful smile tugged on her lips. “Then you wouldn’t mind taking me out on a date, tomorrow? Of course, I’m not quite as sophisticated as Lex Luthor …” her voice trailed off.

“Lana, what’s this all about? You know that I love you,” Clark said, a hint of irritation in his voice. “You’re not jealous of Luthor, are you?”

“Of course I’m not jealous,” she replied annoyed. “It’s just … oh I don’t know, Clark. You didn’t put up much of a fight when I asked you to postpone our date. We’ve been dating for about a year and all we ever do is kiss.” Her voice had gradually increased in volume until she was almost shouting.

Clark winced. “I thought you wanted to go to that lecture,” he whispered.

His mouth had suddenly gone dry. It was one thing to think about telling her the truth. Actually doing it was an entirely different matter. Clark knew that it was about time. He had known Lana for almost his entire life, so what was he afraid of? But that was just it – they had gone to elementary school together and later to high school without him ever mentioning that he was different. What was she going to think? Would she scream bloody murder at finding out that he was – well, whatever he actually was? He hoped not.

“Well, yeah, of course I did, but that’s beside the point,” Lana quipped and rolled her eyes. “We’re not kids anymore, Clark. You say you love me, but you don’t seem to want to make any commitment. And don’t you dare tell me that this is some religious thing. I know for certain that Martha isn’t that puritanical.”

Clark was not sure he would ever be able to follow that woman’s logic. However, he chose to remain silent rather than to point out that not sleeping with her did not mean at all that he did not want to commit. He sighed, already knowing that he was going to lose that argument. Maybe that was because she was basically right – only she missed the true point. If he really wanted to commit, he needed to share himself on a much more fundamental level than just the physical experience.

He swallowed hard. “Lana, could we please talk about this later?”


* * *

They had been working for hours, trying to make sense of Platt’s report. The desk they were working on was covered with notes and smaller piles of papers Lois and Clark had deemed belonged together. The report was hard to read, not just because of the scientific language. Platt had added sentences in his almost unreadable hand. His annotations partly covered the typed text, effectively obliterating it as well.

“This is impossible. Nothing matches, no dates…” Lois spat out, annoyed. “We’ll never get through this.” Frustrated, Lois dropped her pen and yawned, leaning back in her chair. “I'm starving,” she moaned.

“We could go for a bite.” Clark offered and put down the papers he had been reading.

“Nah.” She shook her head, stretching her back, trying to loosen the stiff muscles. “What I'd really like is some good Chinese take-out, but not from that lousy joint across the street,” she said wistfully.

“I know a place,” Clark replied.

Lois raised her brows in surprise. “Do they deliver?”

“No, but it's no problem,” Clark said as he got up. He reached for his jacket that had been sprawled over the back of his chair. “I'll be right back.” Waving at Lois, he went around the desk and started for the stairwell.

“Don't you want to know what I want?” Lois asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.

“I'll bring an assortment,” he replied and went on, almost in a hurry to get out.

Minutes later he was on the roof and flew off into the night, once more enjoying the exhilarating sensation of defying gravity. It was liberating, just what he had needed after spending the last couple of hours sitting right next to Lois Lane. He could have gone to San Francisco for an excellent take-out, but he settled for the real thing. If his mother ever found out, she would have a field day analyzing his behavior. It was a strange mixture of trying to show off and getting away for as long as he possibly could. For him the difference between China and San Francisco was only a matter of minutes, but still – it was time that he desperately needed.

Clark had fooled himself into believing that working with Lois was easier, now that she was treating him like an asset rather than a nuisance. But ever since she had stopped driving him up the wall all the time, he was even more susceptible to her charms. She did not need to display her cleavage to make him daydream of her. Sitting right next to her, he had been tantalized by the sweet smell of her hair and the cute way that she bit her lips when she was mulling over a problem. Every so often his hearing had tuned in on her heart beat, adding her unique rhythm to memory. As hard as he tried to fight the feeling, his subconscious was drawn to her and he was really powerless to defy it.

So Clark was immensely grateful for the brief respite and enjoyed the cool wind in his face as he sped to China to get take-out. He took cleansing breaths, reminding himself why it was a bad idea to fall for Lois Lane. He had been there, done that and it had ended in a catastrophe. Any relationship with a woman would ultimately mean that he had to reveal his secret to her. And he knew from experience that this was going to spell the end of said relationship, so why bother? Lois Lane was off limits and the sooner he understood that, the better.

About fifteen minutes later, a much more composed Clark was back in the newsroom and set several bamboo boxes with Chinese food on the desk in front of Lois. A delicious aroma emanated from the first one Lois opened. Clark handed her a set of chopsticks and sat down beside her.

“That was quick,” she commented.

“I took a shortcut,” he said, inwardly smiling to himself.

“Mmh… still hot.” She picked a dumpling and took a bite. “This is out of this world.”

For a while they chewed in silence. Now and again Lois would moan in contentment, closing her eyes as she savored her food. Clark enjoyed watching her. Lois was not one to merely pick at her food, afraid of gaining weight, like perhaps Cat would have done. No, Lois relished it. Automatically, Clark prepared a mental list of places he would like to introduce her to.

Despite himself, Clark started daydreaming again. Ever since he had learned to fly and used that power to discover the world, he had hoped that one day he would be able to share this experience with someone. Of course, he had taken his parents time and again, but it was not the same. He would give anything to have a girl he could take to see the aurora borealis.

<Or just anyone to watch a sunset with,> he thought wistfully, as he took another bite.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lois pulled him out of his reverie.

Clark almost choked on his rice dish. “I … nothing,” he stammered.

“Well, it seemed like you zoned out on me, there,” Lois commented, her eyes on Clark.

He felt a blush creep across his cheeks and seriously hoped that Lois wouldn’t see it in the dim light of the newsroom.

“Guess, I’m just tired.” Clark shrugged. “Didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“Me too,” Lois admitted and hurried to add. “I mean, I’m tired too. I slept fairly well, anyhow… Clark, there’s something I should tell you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, wondering where this was going.

“Just promise me that you’re not going to be mad at me.” The slight uneasiness he had detected earlier was again visible in her features. “I mean, I’m not particularly proud of what I did.” This time it was Lois turn to blush. “We already got off on the wrong foot as it is. And I’m really sorry about that. You see,” she took a deep cleansing breath, trying to prepare herself for some kind of confession. “I… I…”

“Lois, what are you talking about?” Clark asked, exasperated.

“IcalledLuthortosettleaninterview,” she sputtered. “I’m really sorry – I mean, it’s your story and I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just…” Her eyes widened as if she was begging him to help her out. “We could go together, Clark.”

“And here I was wondering why you didn’t keep nagging me about the interview,” Clark said quietly. He put down the box and the chopsticks, carefully eying Lois.

“Well, I was pretty mad at you for not telling me. But then I decided that I could use it to my advantage,” Lois muttered uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, I understand that.” Clark straightened in his chair. “It was a stupid thing to try and keep my acquaintance with Luthor to myself.”

“Why did you do it?” Lois asked and dropped her container of food.

Clark just shrugged. “It’s a long story – one I’m not yet comfortable telling you, Lois. But you should be careful with Luthor. I seriously doubt that you’ll get the interview you want.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Lois asked, piqued. Her cheeks reddened and her eyes gleamed with anger as she folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m a professional reporter, Clark. Don’t you think I know he’ll play hard to get? Give me some credit.”

Clark raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I’m just saying – be careful, Lois.”

She relaxed somewhat, but the frown on her face deepened. “You and Lex … you behaved kind of awkward around him, like you weren’t comfortable seeing him,” Lois continued to probe.

Clark shifted his position. “After that mugging, Luthor was falling all over himself trying to do me a favor. He got a little intense.”

“You saved his life, Clark. Is it such a bad thing that he feels he owes you?” she asked softly.

“It was really no big deal; saying thanks would have been more than enough,” Clark said dismissively.

“Well, this is Lex Luthor, we’re talking about. He’s one of the richest guys in the world.” Lois pointed out. “Perhaps saying ‘thank you’ for him happens on a much larger scale.”

“Maybe,” Clark admitted. “But I don’t like …” he caught himself before he revealed his true feelings. “… I just can’t help the feeling that he tries to interfere with my life.” Clark swallowed hard before he continued. “He says he wants to give my career a head start by offering me that interview. I guess he’d do plenty more if I asked him to. Give him an inch and he will take a mile. I don’t want to wake up one day and find out that I owe him.”

Lois nodded her understanding. “You wouldn’t want to be seen as just his protégé.”

“Exactly,” Clark agreed.

“I hate to admit it, but I guess, I’d feel the same way,” Lois muttered to herself. Then she looked up at Clark again. “But what I really don’t get is – why did you agree to go with me in the first place? I mean, you obviously had an invitation yourself and hadn’t planned on going, had you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Lois. Maybe it was just the spur of a moment.”

Clark wondered whether he should tell her what he suspected about Luthor’s real business dealings. But he had seen the admiration in her eyes, when she had looked at the billionaire. With so little to substantiate his accusations, Clark would just sound silly.

Lois placed her chopsticks right next to the container. “That was great,” she said, satisfied. “Where did you get it?”

Clark smiled noncommittally and watched her as she searched the remaining boxes for something. A frown appeared on her face, as she obviously came up empty.

“No fortune cookie?” she asked disappointedly.

“Well, the place is pretty traditional,” Clark replied amused. “You don’t get fortune cookies in China.”

She flashed him a glance. Clark felt a rush of panic seize him as he wondered if he had betrayed his secret. But then she relaxed.

“You’re a strange one, Clark Kent,” Lois announced.

“Am I?” he grinned and leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah, but it makes you kind of interesting,” she admitted. Then she straightened and got up. “Come on, we’ll go see Dr. Platt. Perhaps he can help us decipher this stuff.”

to be continued...

Last edited by bakasi; 08/16/14 06:55 AM.

It's never too dark to be cool. cool