Previously on Seed of Doubt...
Clark nodded and ducked into his bedroom, just long enough to root around for an old red sweatshirt and a pair of soft gray drawstring pants. Then he headed into his shower. The cold water did nothing to relieve or even reduce his raging desire for Lois. He was fairly certain that she wanted him just as badly too.
Is it such a bad thing, if she wants me the same way I want her? he wondered.
What if she doesn't? came the whispered reply from his inner voice.
She does, he firmly told himself. She's been all over me all day.
All day since that strange lady came to the Planet.
He sighed audibly, the rush of water concealing the sound. Maybe that was the truth. Maybe that lady had somehow caused the chaos and disorder he'd seen in the bullpen that day. After all, it was awfully strange that Lois had started coming on to him after the entire newsroom had been fumigated by that awful smelling concoction the woman had been forcing everyone to sample. The short hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.
What did she do to us?
Swiftly, he finished showering and toweled off. In seconds, he was dressed, though he lingered for an extra minute or two so as not to rouse Lois' suspicions. Then he strode out of the bathroom, eager to share his epiphany with her. But his train of thought violently derailed as soon as he stepped back into his bedroom.
Lois had certainly changed out of her work attire. In fact, she was reclined in the middle of his bed, atop the comforter, wearing nothing but the tie he'd worn to work that day.
"Lois? What are you...?"
"Ssh," she silenced him, a finger to her lips. Then, she crooked her finger and made a "come here" gesture. "Join me, won't you?"
"Lois, I'm not...really sure..."
"Ssh," she chastised him again. "I want this. I want you."
She rose and took the tie off, deftly hooking the material over Clark's neck once she reached him. She used like a towline to guide him to the bed. By then, the last of Clark's mental clarity had vanished. He willingly allowed her to pull him down onto the bed. Off came his shirt. He hadn't even been aware that she had been pulling it over his head. Once it was gone, her hands began to roam his chest.
"You're amazing," Lois whispered against his ear as she nibbled on his lobe. "Did I ever tell you that?"
Clark made a non-committal noise in his throat. Truth be told, he was barely able to remember his own name through the pleasure and sheer joy coming from having Lois so boldly caressing his skin. Caution and self restraint fled him. By the time Lois leaned in to whisper "Make love to me, Clark" in his ear, the word "no" was no longer a part of his vocabulary.
Sleep took a back seat to their passion. Three times they reached their pleasure together. Three wonderful, amazing times, each better than the last in Clark's mind. He'd dreamed about being with Lois, many, many times since he'd met her. But to actually, physically be making love with her surpassed any of his fantasies.
It was almost painful to give in when sleep came to claim them both. Grudgingly, Clark closed his eyes, his heart alight with the greatest, most intense happiness he'd ever known.
"I love you, Lois," he murmured as his arms closed around her to hold her close as they slept.
***
Clark awoke in a tangle of sheets and limbs. Somehow, while they'd slept, Lois had come to be the one embracing him, rather than the other way around. At first, however, Clark couldn't understand just why Lois was in bed with him. He felt groggy and his head was absolutely pounding. That got his notice. He'd never felt so badly before - not without the presence of Kryptonite. He groaned and squinted his eyes against the light spilling in through his windows.
Lois moaned in her sleep as she stirred in turn. Her eyes fluttered open and she seemed to take a second before she registered where she was and who she was with. A look of surprise crossed her features.
"Clark! What are you doing?"
She tried to push him out of the bed, and failing at that, resorted to swatting at him. Clark shimmied over an inch or so, until he was in danger of rolling out of the bed.
"Lois! Hey, wait!" he said, his hands up in a gesture of pacification.
She stilled for a moment, taking in the rest of the situation. Her eyes landed on Clark's bare chest.
"What happened last night?" she asked.
"I think we...you know," Clark said, making a vague gesture.
Lois looked down, peering beneath the blankets at herself. "Oh, God. Did we really?"
"From what I remember, yeah," Clark said, pausing for a moment to think. "Do you remember anything from last night?"
Lois thought before responding. "I remember Chinese food. And wine. Then you went to get into comfortable clothes."
"Right," Clark said, remembering as well.
"I came in here to get changed myself and....Oh, God!" Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she gasped.
"I'm so sorry, Lois," Clark immediately began to apologize. "After everything that's happened to you lately...this is not what...I never meant...I hate that I've put you into this pos...situation," Clark said, stumbling over his choices in words.
"No," Lois said, shaking her head. "From the way I remember things, you weren't the only one...actually, I think I'm the responsible one."
"Still, I should have had some restraint," Clark said. "Especially given my...disgust at what Lex did."
If Lois caught his near-slip, she didn't mention it. "No. I think...I think I really wanted that, last night. Wanted you. It was such..." She stopped, struggling to describe the feelings that had coursed through her veins.
"An overwhelming feeling," Clark supplied and she nodded her agreement. "Like I couldn't help myself."
"Exactly," Lois said.
"Like I was drunk...on love," Clark continued.
"Yeah," Lois agreed again. Then, glancing down again, "I guess I should put something on."
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "I...uh...I won't look," he promised, shutting his eyes behind his glasses, which he'd managed to fall asleep in.
He heard, as well as felt, Lois slip from the bed and then pad around the room, gathering things to wear for the day. He kept his eyes studiously closed until he was certain that Lois was in the bathroom. It felt better to his head, that way, shutting out the light. It was tempting to go back to sleep.
Is this what a hangover feels like?
Eventually though, he forced himself to get out of bed and get dressed for work. He wished he could take an aspirin to soothe his aching head, but he knew it would be a futile effort. Instead, he settled for coffee in the largest mug that he owned, and fixed one for Lois as well. At the last moment, he decided to cook up some eggs and toast, again fixing them in Lois' preferred manner.
Well, if this isn't cliché, I don't know what is. Fixing breakfast after a night of passion. And what passion it was! All my life, I've wondered what it would be like to make love to the woman of my dreams. Now I finally know. And it was amazing. But...everything was wrong. We were under some kind of...influence. Nor does she know the full truth about me.
"Breakfast?" Clark asked, as he set Lois' plate down on the table as she entered the kitchen.
She nodded. "Thanks."
"Lois..." he began carefully, sitting down with his own meal, "about last night."
"What about it?" She seemed like she was not much in the mood to discuss it.
"I think we were drugged, somehow. We weren't the only ones acting strangely yesterday. Everyone in the bullpen was acting weird. Even Perry."
"I guess that's true," she conceded. "Did he really go after Rahalia?"
Clark nodded, then winced as his head throbbed anew.
"Are you okay?" Lois asked, concerned.
"I'm fine. Just a headache, that's all. How are you feeling?"
"A little fuzzy in my head, to be honest. But overall fine. You need me to get you an aspirin or something?"
Clark smiled. "No, thanks. It doesn't do much for me. I just have to wait it out."
"So...I guess the next question is, what caused everyone to go crazy yesterday?"
Clark had to hold back a chuckle. Leave it to Lois to dive right back into the heart of the matter. "I've been thinking about that," he said. "And the only explanation I can think of is that we were all exposed to something in the newsroom yesterday. Probably something airborne. Too many of us were affected for it to have been something in our food or in the coffeepot."
"Makes sense," she replied with a nod.
"The perfume," Clark said with sudden clarity. "More specifically, the one that blonde woman was forcing on everyone. It's the only thing that we were more or less all exposed to."
"Sounds like a good suspect to me," Lois said. "But...if I had to guess, I'd say that she probably wasn't part of that photo shoot. She didn't strike me as fitting in with the rest of them."
"I had that impression too."
"So, how do we find her?"
Clark thought a moment. "You don't come up with a chemical compound like that by accident. She probably works in the perfume business. Let's grab some magazines as we head for the Planet."
"Bridal and beauty magazines," Lois said, picking up his train of thought. "And anything with hard hitting news articles like 'The Top Ten Positions To Please Your Man.'"
Clark nodded, biting into his toast. "Exactly."
"Clark...about last night..."
"Forget it, Lois. As far as anyone is concerned, nothing happened. I won't say a word."
She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. She shook her head. "Thanks." She put her fork down and went into the living room to retrieve her purse.
Clark swiftly cleaned up their dishes, rinsed them briefly, then left them in the sink to wash later. He was just drying off his hands when Lois spoke.
"Hey, you have a message on your answering machine."
She was right. The light was blinking on his phone. He pressed the speakerphone button and listened as he went to get their coats.
"Hi, honey!" came the cheerful voice of Martha Kent. "Your father and I just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday. We wish we could be there with you, in Metropolis, to celebrate."
"We hope you're out somewhere having fun," the voice of Jonathan added. "We love you, son. Call us when you can."
"Message received yesterday at six fourteen pm," the robotic voice of the machine informed him.
"Oh, God! I totally forgot it was your birthday yesterday," Lois said, embarrassed.
Clark shook his head. "It's not your fault. That perfume did something to us to make us focus almost exclusively on whoever it had us falling head over heels for. I didn't even remember it was my birthday."
"Well, uh, happy belated birthday?" Lois said, her voice half a question.
Clark chuckled. The caffeine in his system seemed to be making his head feel better. "Thanks, Lois. Come on, we have just enough time to hit the newsstand on the corner before we head to the Planet."
She nodded and stepped ahead of him, letting him trail her so that he could lock the door behind them. He left her to get the Jeep warmed up while he ducked into the store and bought copies of every magazine that he thought might help provide a clue who the woman with the perfume was. The cashier blinked sleepily at him as his purchase was rung up. Clark handed over his credit card, signed the receipt, then grabbed the bag of magazines. Lois was fiddling with the radio as he hopped into the passenger seat.
"All set," he said, hefting the bag slightly. "Hopefully, somewhere in here, we'll find our lead."
"Great. I'm looking forward to catching this woman before she can cause any more chaos."
She put the car into gear and began to navigate through the always-present Metropolis traffic. Clark leaned back in his seat, his eyes ever watchful on the road ahead.
"I agree," he said. "I just wonder what her motive is. I mean, I assume she knows full well what that concoction is capable of. Why else force it on everyone?"
"Maybe she's just desperate for a date," Lois joked dryly.
Clark laughed. "Maybe. I have a feeling it's bigger than that though. And I doubt it's anything altruistic, like some sort of overwhelming concern for Metropolis' population of single people."
"I have a feeling you're right."
"I just hope it was contained," Clark said. "That it was just the Planet affected. Can you imagine anything more widespread than that?"
"I'd hate to think of that," Lois agreed, nodding without looking at him. "Looking back, it was kind of scary to not be in complete control of myself. It was so different than being drunk, for example. Because, at least when I've had one too many, I know what's causing me to act differently. Know what I mean?"
"Ah...I guess," Clark said.
"You guess? Haven't you ever been drunk before?"
Clark blushed. "Would you believe me if I said no?"
Lois glanced over to study him for a moment before pulling her attention back to the road. "Part of me is, part of me isn't. Knowing you, it makes sense. You're so...I don't know. So...Clark. Such a boy scout. One the other hand, I know you played ball in college, and I've only ever met athletes who partied way too hard whenever they weren't on the field."
"Not me. I've never taken that much pleasure in drinking to excess," Clark said. "Always seemed like a waste. A romantic glass of wine or two with a date? Sure. A cold beer while watching a game on television? Why not? But after that..." he shrugged as his voice trailed off.
She laughed and shook her head slightly. "You know what? I believe you."
Clark smiled but didn't respond. Mentioning the word "date" had reminded him that he was supposed to be having his first date with Lois that night. But after all that had happened in the last couple of days, he wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not to even mention it to Lois, let alone go through with it. Especially after what they'd done the night before. And, even if it might have been appropriate to discuss it with her, that didn't mean that she would take kindly to the question.
Regretfully, Clark maintained silence on the topic. Instead, he picked up one of the magazines and started to flip through it.
"What are you doing?" Lois asked, not looking at him. She rammed her palm into her horn. "Green light means go!"
"Researching," Clark said as he thumbed through the ad-laden sex and gossip rag before him.
"You don't want to wait until we get into work?" Lois asked.
Clark shrugged. "Why wait? Even if I get through one of these now, it's one less we have to go through at the Planet. Although, if this one is any indication of what the others are going to be like, I'm going to need a lot more coffee. I mean, really. Who comes up with these articles? 'I Was A Teenage Mother And Prom Queen.' 'Quiz Time! What Should Your Safe-Word Be?'" He clucked his tongue as he read the titles he was flipping by. "Oh, and let's not forget, 'What Your Bed Sheets Say About You.'" He sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe people actually get paid to write this drivel!"
"Sounds like they haven't changed much since I was seventeen," Lois said.
"You actually read stuff like this?" Clark tried to picture a teenage Lois pouring over one of these rags in her bedroom, late at night to avoid Ellen's detection, but he failed.
"Once in a while. My friend Marcie used to slip them to me during lunchtime after she was done with them."
That made more sense to Clark. He couldn't see the ever practical Lois Lane spending money on these kind of magazines.
"I used to read them and day dream about the kind of man I'd marry. And then I'd be grateful that I was pursuing a real journalistic career, unlike the authors of those fluff articles."
Clark laughed. "I can believe that." He shut the magazine he'd been going through. "Nothing in this one."
They arrived at the Planet shortly after. Lois parked in the underground lot and together they rode the elevator up to the bullpen. Clark immediately made a beeline for the coffeemaker to fix two cups of the strong brew. He brought them to Lois' desk and handed her the one he'd made for her.
"Thanks," she said, barely looking up from a bridal magazine. Clark could see that she'd already checked three quarters of it already.
"Any luck?" he asked.
"Nothing yet."
"Maybe we should move this to one of the conference rooms," he suggested.
She nodded. "Good idea."
He helped her gather up their research and relocate to one of the two conference rooms in the newsroom. There they spread out the vast variety of magazines and started systematically going through them. Clark knew it was a long shot, but he also called Jimmy in to help.
"What's going on?" the younger man asked as he threw open the door to the conference room.
"Jimmy, is there any way to find out who that blonde woman was? The one who was here yesterday with that perfume sample?" Clark asked.
"I can try. But I overheard some of the models wondering who she was. I kind of got the feeling she was some rival who came to crash the party."
"She might have done more than that," Clark said. "Find out whatever you can, as quickly as you can."
"Consider me on it."
With that, Jimmy left, shutting the door behind him. Clark went back to thumbing through yet another mindless magazine. How did women read these things? He felt like eighty percent of the pages were ads. And when he did find articles and actually did take the time to skim them with his super speed, it seemed like they were all about sex, makeup, or how to lose weight, because clearly no woman on the planet was happy with their body shape. It bothered him, the kinds of messages he saw, because it seemed to almost universally give advice on how to land a man, instead of praising and encouraging women to stand on their own two feet. He wondered if such publications even existed.
He finished his magazine a moment before Lois finished hers. They both looked up and quietly shook their heads before tossing their respective magazines to the side. Each picked up another one and repeated the process. Time passed and the "rejected" pile grew ever larger. They would soon run out of publications to check. Their coffee cups had long since been emptied, refilled, and emptied again. Clark was just about ready to give up hope when something caught his eye.
There was no mistaking the woman posing with the antique glass atomizer.
"Got her!" he announced, relief and a sense of near joy in his voice. He spun the magazine so that Lois could look at it right side up. "Miranda Covington. Owner of Scentsational Perfumes, right in Metropolis."
"Nice work," Lois said approvingly.
"CK! I'm still working on finding out who that woman was," Jimmy said, bursting into the room without knocking. "But I do have this." He handed over a black and white photograph of the woman in question. "That's her, right?"
Clark nodded. "It is. Good work, Jimmy. But I think we have a lead on who she is." He pointed to the ad, which Lois had since torn out of the magazine. "Miranda Covington."
"Do us a favor," Lois added.
"Find out what I can about her. Aliases, addresses, rap sheet, business dealings - I know the drill," Jimmy filled in with a grin.
Lois smiled in return. "Thanks."
"You got it. Just...do me a favor?" he asked, uncertainly.
Lois hesitated. "What?"
"Remember how I went to talk to that model?"
"Yeah?" Clark said, cautiously.
"I guess I came on a little strong. I'm not sure what got into me. Anyway, she thinks I'm a creep. If you could, I don't know, send a message along telling her that I'm not a bad guy. You know. Damage control."
"Don't worry, Jimmy," Lois said, patting his shoulder gently. "We think the perfume this Miranda woman was spraying had some kind of influence on all of us."
"Really?" he asked, brightening.
"Yeah. Why?" Lois asked.
Jimmy looked over his shoulder, as if to reassure himself that no one was listening in. "It's the Chief."
"What happened?" Clark asked, his heart skipping a beat in dread.
"He got hit with a sexual harassment suit."
Clark's heart dropped. "The Rehalia thing?"
"What else?" Jimmy replied with a resigned shrug.
"Come on," Lois said with decisiveness. "We need to get this perfume thing out in the open."
"The sooner, the better," Clark agreed. He swept his hand over the desk, gathering the magazines into one pile, which he dumped unceremoniously into the recycling bin by the door, hoping that, in their next life, they would become something useful.
"Good luck, guys," Jimmy added, as they all exited the room.
Neither Lois nor Clark answered. They simply grabbed their coats and pulled them on as they made their way to the elevator. Clark reached the call button half a step faster than Lois and pushed it. The elevator must have been on the move. The doors opened almost immediately. They boarded and pushed the button for the parking garage.
"Poor Perry," Lois observed as they made their descent, her hands stuffed deeply into her pockets.
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "But, we'll get this straightened out. Hopefully before anyone else has something like this happen."
Lois seemed to sense his discomfort. "You know I'm not going to hit you with some lawsuit, right?"
"I know," he said with a small smile.
He couldn't decide what else to say. He wanted more than anything to clear the air with Lois. But he was afraid. Afraid to upset her. Afraid to learn that she hated him for what had transpired. Afraid that she might never want to be with him again, after what had happened. So, he did the only thing he could do. He maintained his silence.
I do love you, Lois. I just hope that one day, you're able to accept that, and maybe, just maybe, love me in return.
He sighed softly. Lois heard the sound and looked at him.
"Something wrong?"
He shook his head. "Just...thinking about all the trouble this woman has caused." At least it wasn't really a lie. "Perry, Jimmy, who knows who else. I just want to see this woman behind bars."
"Soon enough," Lois said as the doors opened to the underground parking.
"You want me to drive?" Clark offered.
"I've got it," she replied, jingling the keys in her hand as if to make a point.
Lois had managed to secure a spot close to the elevator, so it didn't take long for them to be on their way. Miranda's store was right on the outskirts of midtown, and easy enough to find. Parking, however, proved to be a nightmare. Grumbling, Lois wound up parking five blocks from the place.
"We should have hailed a cab," she muttered as they set a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "It's freezing today."
"Sorry. I didn't think it would be this bad over here," Clark apologized. Then, "Look! There it is!" He pointed across the street.
A quaint little shop sat in the middle of the block, surrounded and dwarfed by the bigger and more popular retailers around it. In fact, the trendy coffee place to the left of the store stretched to the corner, while a steady stream of people entered and exited it. To the right, several other stores stood in a line, each one easily two or three times the size of Miranda's shop. But, there was no mistaking the place. A wooden sign above the door proudly displayed Scentsational Perfumes in gold lettering against a weathered black backdrop. The blinds were up and a neon sign in the window proclaimed that the place was, indeed, open for business.
Lois and Clark dashed across the street before the light could turn green, while an irate driver or two honked at them. Clark mentally shook his head. Even after all this time in Metropolis, he still was amazed at the impatience of some people. They reached the wooden door to the shop and paused for a moment while Lois caught her breath and Clark pretended to. Then Lois opened the door and a bell up top tinkled to signal their entrance into the store.
Miranda appeared from a back room, a smile plastered to her face. She was dressed in a similar manner to the way Clark remembered her looking the day before.
"Hello," she said in a pleasant manner. "May I help you with anything?"
"Oh, we're just sort of browsing," Lois said, picking up a green bottle and sniffing it. She coughed slightly at the scent.
"Anything in particular?" Miranda asked. "Something to spark that certain someone's interest? Perhaps something to rekindle a waning romance?"
"Oh, nothing like that," Lois said as Clark continued to survey the shop, looking for the atomizer he'd seen the day before.
"You were at the Daily Planet yesterday, weren't you?" Clark asked casually as he inspected a tiny purple vial of perfume. The price tag stated that it was thirty-two dollars. He pulled the stopper out, sniffed the contents, and replaced the top.
"Yes," Miranda said, "I was sampling my newest creation. I'm calling it Revenge. And, of course, checking out my competition. Which, between the three of us, I found to be lacking, at best."
"Revenge? That's...ah...a rather interesting name," Clark said, through a fog of wooziness that had begun to creep up over him.
Miranda shrugged, oblivious to his discomfort. "Every scent has to have a name. Why, the one in your hand I've named Angel Wings. The green one you sniffed earlier," she said, looking to Lois and pointing to the table, "is Disappointment." She pointed to a few near the register. "Starlight, Loneliness, Frustration, Summer Wind, Vengeance, First Kiss. Every one of them unique. Every one of them a masterpiece."
"The one yesterday, Revenge?" Lois asked.
"Yes? What about it?"
"It had an interesting scent to it," Clark said, fighting hard against the odd feeling that was washing over him. "Like it might have been animal based."
Miranda appeared to be surprised. "Very good, Mr. Kent, is it? I'm impressed. You have a remarkable olfactory sense. Yes, Revenge is a particularly rare creation indeed."
"Would you mind telling us how it's made?" he pressed.
Miranda laughed and gave him what felt like a fake smile. "Sorry, but I can't just go around giving away all my secrets. I'd be out of business in weeks if I did."
"Oh, come on," Lois complained, giving Clark an opportunity to scan the room at super speed and his enhanced telescopic vision. "Let's not beat around the bush. Whatever you sprayed in the newsroom made the whole place erupt into some kind of weird love fest. I don't think Woodstock had that much free love going on."
Clark finally found the atomizer he was searching for, and pocketed the smallest, least conspicuous one he could, all at super speed. In a flash, he was back in his same spot, just a foot or two behind Lois. He continued to peruse the various bottles on the shelf, sniffing at a pleasant, floral scented one in yellow glass that was shaped like a sunflower. Sun-shower, the tag proclaimed.
Still, he wasn't feeling right. Something was amiss. Again, he wondered what was causing it. It felt similar to Kryptonite, but somehow different at the same time. His eyes alit on Miranda's choker once more. Was he imagining it, or did it seem to be glowing?
Miranda had replied to Lois' accusation, but Clark hadn't heard what she'd said.
"It isn't funny," Lois said, her anger showing. "People were hurt! And humiliated! It's a wonder no one got killed!"
"Killed?" Miranda repeated. "I don't see how. Besides, who said that I had anything to do with what you're talking about? I'm just a simple perfume maker."
"Yeah, right," Lois said, nearly spitting the words. "Perfume that makes people go crazy."
Miranda, to her credit, never lost her composure. "Miss Lane, I'm not sure where you're going with this ridiculous line of thinking, but I don't appreciate being pegged for a villain. Did you know that animals have no sense of villains and heroes? No, they are ruled by their sense of smell. It tells them what to avoid, what to try to woo to propagate the species. We humans think we're so much better for evolving past that point, but I'm not sure I agree."
Clark subtly slipped his glasses down, just enough to telescope in on the red gem at Miranda's neck, going down to the stone's molecular makeup.
Kryptonite! he thought with surprise. But red? Is it possible that more than one variety exists? As his head started to pound, he knew with certainty that it truly was a type of Kryptonite. That explains why the perfume was able to affect me though.
That made him feel a little better. At least he'd had a legitimate reason for allowing himself to climb into bed with Lois, breaking every rule he'd ever set for himself. Chief among those rules was the solemn vow to himself to never sleep with anyone who didn't know the full truth about who he was.
Still, now that there's no perfume in the air, I wonder how this is going to affect me, if at all.
"I doubt that you're as innocent as you're trying to make yourself out to be," Lois retorted. "And I intend to expose those lies. Don't leave town. The police are going to want to speak with you."
"Miss Lane," Miranda said coldly, "forgive me, but I hardly think that the unfounded suspicions of two reporters qualifies as a criminal investigation. Luckily for us all, you need evidence of wrongdoing. And you have none. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do. I'm going to kindly ask you to leave my shop before I call the police and charge you with harassment and defamation of character."
Clark quickly focused on Miranda's carotid artery. He could hear her heart racing, much more than anger could account for. She was lying and scared.
"Fine," Lois snapped. "Come on, Clark. We have work to do."
She grabbed him by the sleeve and ushered him out of the door. Clark felt instantly relieved to be away from the strange breed of red Kryptonite, and the potential to be once again exposed to Revenge. Still, some of the odd perfume's scent must have been in the air, even if only the barest trace of it. His head became crowded with thoughts of Lois.
"She's lying," Lois declared as she stomped her way to the crosswalk.
"I know," Clark said. "Her pulse rate was over one-fifty."
"Huh? How'd you know that?" Lois asked, giving him a funny look.
"I...uh...it's just an expression. Like 'going a mile a minute' or 'shaking like a leaf.' What? You've never heard of it before?"
Lois shook her head. "Must be one of those famous Kansas expressions." She sighed as the light turned green just as they reached the sidewalk. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited to be able to cross. "So, we know she did it. But we need to prove it. I'm just not sure how, yet."
"Ah," Clark replied, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the miniature atomizer.
"How did you...? Never mind. I don't care how. I just love that you got that," she said, kissing his cheek in her glee.
For Clark, it was a struggle not to float away as the love of his life praised him and put her lips to his flesh.
Here we go again, the tiny voice in the back of his mind said with a resigned sigh.
To Be Continued...
