Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Life and Death - 10/13

>>> from the journal of H. G. Wells

I am in deadly danger.

I have received another transmission from my associates, a text-only message. Though incomplete, the message tells me that the conflicting probabilities of which I wrote earlier have all but crowded out any other possible future tracks. This world will tip in one of two directions, toward either a Utopian future or a descent into chaos and anarchy.

And the fulcrum of this historic lever is Lois Lane.

Not only is this world in danger due to my actions, I am in danger of being stranded here should the negative future be realized. If I am to depart, it must be very soon, if not immediately.

Yet I cannot leave. I must not. I have instigated these events and I must remain and witness the final outcome. I will attempt to transmit some record of my actions to the future of my home dimension, but I cannot know that I will succeed. My reply to their most recent transmission was not acknowledged, and I do not know if it was received. It is possible, I fear, that it is too late for me to depart even now.

To paraphrase my contemporary Mr. A. E. Housman, I am indeed a stranger, and afraid, in a world I have well and truly made.

>>>

Lucy had enjoyed a fine lunch – compliments of Bruce Wayne – and had begun a tentative friendship with Selina Kyle, woman of mystery and seeming brilliance. Wayne’s reputation as a flighty dilettante and vapid playboy had taken a number of hits during their conversation as he asked insightful and probing questions about the operational procedures by which Lucy’s department was constrained. She told him what she liked, what she understood needed to be in place but didn’t necessarily like, and about the few things that she didn’t understand. Two things seemed to get Selina’s attention more than the others: the restrictions against programmers working from home on a semi-regular basis and the resistance to giving the tech people, especially the developers working on new projects, flexible work schedules. Lucy had the distinct impression that those things might change in the near future.

“You make some very good arguments, Ms. Lane,” smiled Wayne. “Let me kick some of these things around with the board of directors and see what we can do.”

Lucy dabbed her mouth with her napkin and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I appreciate your time and your willingness to listen to me.”

“He wouldn’t listen to you if you didn’t make good sense, Lucy,” Selina purred. “I’m sure you realize that many of the people who work for Mr. Wayne either babble incoherently or freeze up when he smiles at them. You did neither.”

Lucy shrugged. “As impressive as Mr. Wayne is, both as an authority figure and in person, it’s hard to be overwhelmed with anyone once you get to know Superman.”

Wayne smiled even wider. “Ah, yes, Superman. He’s quite famous, even in Gotham.”

“More so than Batman?”

Lucy’s offhand comment seemed to startle both Selina and Wayne for a moment, then they both relaxed. Lucy noted that neither of them had looked away from her until the odd moment passed.

Selina leaned back and crossed her arms. “Superman operates in the light, Lucy. Everybody who wants to know about him can find out almost anything. The Batman – well, he’s kind of a night owl, and he’s very secretive. Not many people know that much about him, and if anyone knows who he really is, they’re not telling.”

Lucy shrugged. “All I know is that he operates in Gotham and you guys have some really crazy crooks over there and he seems to be up to the challenge. Most of what I’ve heard about him is good, at least to a point.”

Wayne frowned and tilted his head at Lucy. “What point is that, Ms. Lane?”

Lucy hadn’t been intimidated by Wayne’s money or position or body, but she suddenly felt like a gazelle staring down a lion. Had she met the intense, powerful man she now faced on a dark street, she would have pulled her revolver out of her purse and pulled the trigger.

Then Selina touched Wayne’s forearm and squeezed slightly. “Mr. Wayne, Lucy was only saying that she’d heard rumors. I think we should give her a break and not force her to repeat them, especially since she hasn’t done so up to now.”

Lucy watched Wayne dial his intensity down several notches until his charming smile returned. “Of course, Ms. Kyle. My apologies, Ms. Lane, for coming on a bit strong. I suppose I’m a bit sensitive to anything which might besmirch my city’s reputation.”

Lucy nodded. “I understand, sir. I’m kind of proprietary about Metropolis myself.” Lucy and Selina stood at almost the same moment, followed immediately by Bruce Wayne. “Thank you again for the meal and the company. I look forward to seeing both of you again.”

Wayne and Selina each shook hands with her. “Perhaps Wayne Tech will invite you to headquarters soon, Ms. Lane,” he said. “I think you could make an impression on some rather stodgy and hidebound directors.”

Lucy shook her head. “That might make me babble or freeze up.”

The three of them shared a chuckle, then Wayne turned to leave. “Unfortunately, that meeting with the senator cannot be rescheduled. We must leave now or risk being late, and I need to sway the good Solon on of couple of issues if I can.”

“Good luck on that, Mr. Wayne. Shall I walk you back through security?”

“Only if you’re leaving also. You have a vacation to resume, remember?”

Lucy smiled again. “Yes, I do. Thank you for remembering. If you’ll let me tell Calvin that I’m leaving for the day, I’ll meet you right outside the cafeteria.”

Well, well, thought Lucy as she strode to Calvin’s office. It appeared that there was something to the buzz about Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle, and it had nothing to do with her ability to take shorthand.

A wild thought appeared. Maybe, she mused, Clark and I can double-date with them some day. Of course, that would depend on what happened with Lois.

It was a sobering thought.

*****

As the pair of visitors stood beside the cafeteria door and watched Lucy stride down the hall, Selina murmured to Bruce, “You were right. She’s really on the ball. You’re almost as lucky to have her in your organization here as you are to have me in your main office.”

She felt, rather than heard, his rumbling chuckle. “I knew she was good, but I didn’t know just how good. We may have the wrong person running this division.”

“You’re not going to toss Calvin out on his ear, are you?”

“Of course not. He hasn’t done anything wrong and he isn’t lazy. For the most part, he knows what he’s doing and does it very well. He just doesn’t have that ‘It’ factor that Lucy Lane seems to have. You saw how she handled those programmers. Every one of them is an individual to her, not just an interchangeable piece of the machine. I think she’s quite capable.”

“It helps that she’s an attractive young woman who knows her own mind, though, doesn’t it?”

“Why, Ms. Kyle, what a catty remark. One might think you were jealous.”

“She’s hardly planning to join you across a Gotham gargoyle, Bruce. That’s not her style. She’s more at home in this place than I’d ever be.” She shifted her stance and moved a half-stride away from him. “And that ‘catty remark’ crack? You’re going to pay for that one.”

“I hope so.”

She snorted in surprise, startling a bustling young brunette woman hurrying past. “Sorry,” said Selina. “Allergies.”

The young woman’s gaze was torn between Selina and Bruce and her open mouth refused to emit any sound. After a moment, she nodded sharply and resumed her hurried pace down the hallway, nearly colliding with a returning Lucy.

Selina watched as Lucy smiled at the girl and exchanged a few words with her. When Lucy was close enough to speak with, Selina asked, “Is that young lady all right?”

“Sure, Brenda’s fine. She’s a newly graduated programmer trainee and she recognized Mr. Wayne when she said she heard a cat growl at her.”

Selina forced her face to go smooth to keep from laughing. “A cat growled at her? You mean like a house cat?”

Bruce’s mouth took on a warped shape as she realized that he, too, was holding back a laugh. Lucy apparently saw it also, although if she did she was too polite to mention it. “No,” said Lucy, “she said it was a big cat, like a cougar. I don’t know what she was talking about.”

Cougar? thought Selina. I’m too young to be a cougar!

Bruce derailed that train of thought when he looked at his watch. “I think we have just enough time to meet with Senator Parker if we leave immediately. Thank you again for the tour and for your company, Ms. Lane.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. And just so you’ll know, I’m pretty sure Mr. Luthor would have sent Selina by herself if he were in your position.”

Selina couldn’t help the frost that crept into her voice. “Lex Luthor will never be in Bruce Wayne’s position, I promise you that.”

With that statement, she stepped off toward the front door, leaving both Bruce and Lucy trailing in her wake. She only hoped Lucy didn’t think too hard about that last reflexive comment. People heard enough gossip about her relationship with Bruce in Gotham – there was no need to feed the animals here in Metropolis. If they were lucky, Lucy would just assume that Selina had a personal thing against Luthor and not read anything else into it.

*****

Lucy unlocked her apartment door, determined to confront Lois on anything and everything she thought needed to be clarified. It was past time for her big sister to come clean and spill all the beans.

She laughed silently at the self-contradictory mixed metaphors. And that made her smile to herself because the reason she recognized them as mixed metaphors was her relationship with Clark and his skill as a writer.

Her relationship with Clark was another thing which needed clarification. Just not right now.

The door swung open to reveal Lois sitting at the breakfast bar, still wearing her borrowed terrycloth robe, surrounded by the remains of a pizza and soda, with Lois’ attention focused on a legal pad over which she held a pencil.

As Lucy’s mouth opened, Lois forestalled her. “Punky! Good! I’m glad you’re back. I need to talk to Superman. He has to do something very important for me. When can you get him over here?”

“What? Why do you want to talk to Clark?”

“Not Clark,” Lois insisted, “Superman! I need the really fast guy who can’t be hurt and stands for truth and justice and all that neat stuff.”

Lucy nodded slowly. “Okay, you need Superman, not Clark. But my question stands. Why?”

Lois’ brow furrowed and her eyes flashed. “I’m not telling this more than once. It’s too complicated. Get him here and I’ll lay it all out for both of you.”

“Okay. I’ll call him, but I can’t promise anything. I don’t know what his schedule is.”

Lois’ face relaxed into something like a smile. “You’re kidding yourself, Luce. If you set your mind to it, you could get him to do just about anything. And he’d enjoy making you laugh while he did it.”

Lucy turned and walked slowly to the phone, Lois’ words echoing in her mind. Was that true? Would Clark give her anything she asked for? And if that were true, what did he have or could he get that she wanted?

The answer came to her even as she formed the question in her mind. Her only doubt was whether or not he’d accept her own heart in return.

*****

Lois was putting on a pair of flats when the doorbell sounded and the tall, handsome man greeted Lucy. He shook her hand quickly but tenderly, then stepped past her to greet her older sister. “Here I am, Lois. Can you tell me what’s going on now?”

“Thanks for coming so quickly, Superman. I barely had time to get dressed.”

“Lucy said it was important.”

“And you believed her?”

Clark frowned at her. “Of course I did. Lucy wouldn’t ask me to come over and say it was important if it weren’t important. I trust her.”

Lois wasn’t looking at her sister, but she still caught the quick smile that flickered over Lucy’s face.

But this wasn’t the time or place to delve into their relationship. “Let’s sit down. This – isn’t going to be easy for me.”

Lucy sat on the couch beside her and Clark sat in a chair a few feet away, on the other side from Lois. Lois forced herself not to jump up and move so that she wasn’t bracketed. This was her sister and her sister’s good friend, not a pair of hunters out to kill her.

She looked at each one in turn, then focused on Clark. “Okay, then, you two, I’m going to have to trust you both with the biggest secret I’ve ever had.” She stopped, took a deep breath and held it for a moment, then realized that this time she didn’t have to fake any emotional responses.

“I have two children, a girl and a boy. They are being held hostage by a criminal who calls himself Rodolfo. I’m being forced to work as one of his undercover operatives. And before you ask, I’m supposed to acquire some secret information about a particular industrialist here in Metropolis and report back to Rodolfo. If I don’t complete my mission within a certain time frame, my children will – he’s threatened to – to kill them.”

She waited, staring at the floor beside her feet, while her companions processed her multi-level revelation. She also waited because she refused to cry in front of either of them and she needed to regain her control. They didn’t need to know everything about her.

Clark spoke first. “Where are your children being held?”

She sighed with relief at the question. “Probably on Sicily. Rodolfo has a couple of bases there.”

“Where exactly are those bases?”

“I can’t give you map coordinates because I don’t know them. But he has two camps near the western end of the island. The nearest big towns I know of are Marsala and Mazara del Vallo, and both camps are west of Salemi. The beach is about twelve to fifteen miles from the camp closest to the ocean. And the camps aren’t just tent cities, either. They have permanent buildings and their own sewage systems and running water and electricity and and lots and lots of guns.”

“Why Sicily?” asked Lucy.

“Because it’s centrally located for his purposes. He can get to any place in southern Europe or north Africa easily. The Middle East isn’t much farther. He also has an airstrip that will handle anything up to a twin-engine Learjet. The guy’s almost bulletproof over there.”

“And the local police can’t get to him? Or won’t try?”

Lois shook her head in the negative. “Can’t, although very few of them have thought about it seriously. You remember Frank Lucas, gangster and drug dealer and murderer and de facto ruling warlord of Harlem back in the seventies and eighties? He set up free clinics, child care facilities, gave people rent money, pressured landlords to repair buildings in the area, and paid off the local cops and judges. It took the federal cops years to build a case against him, and they were trying hard.”

Lois sat back and hugged herself. “Rodolfo is a lot like Lucas without the publicity. The people in the surrounding villages love him because he brings money and jobs to the area, the mayors of the towns grovel at his feet, and the cops ask him who they can arrest. There were several cities in Wisconsin who treated the gangsters of the twenties and thirties the same way. Even if you could find a local cop with the ba – with the courage to go after him, he wouldn’t last long, and his upstanding fellow citizens would make sure he got a nice funeral and remember him as an object lesson. It would take a military-level incursion to penetrate Rodolfo’s defenses, and lots of people would die on both sides. As long as he behaves himself in Sicily, no one wants to try it.”

“He’s that powerful?” asked Lucy.

“He is in Sicily. Even what’s left of the Mafia treat him like he’s radioactive. They won’t even try to touch him. And Rodolfo keeps a low profile, too. None of that ten-million-dollar mansion in the middle of town vanity for him. And if the local rumors are half-true, he’s got friends in high places in Spain and Italy and France and maybe Germany. Last year he even sent me to Turkey pick up some information about a printer manufacturing firm that wanted to partner with Bob Fences.”

She managed to stop talking before she told them that she’d had to kill a man and a woman in order to get out with the information.

Lucy tilted her head. “Who wanted the information?”

Lois shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me who or why, just where and what to bring back. A lot of the stuff I pick up I don’t understand, like that stuff on your desk. I recognize some of the terms but I don’t know how they fit together, and I sure as sh – I sure don’t know what to do with them. I just give it to Rodolfo and he pays me and gives me back my kids until my next mission comes up.”

Clark sighed. “Do you have a picture of your kids? Something I can use as a reference?”

“No. Rodolfo won’t let me keep any.” She folded back several pages on the legal pad she held. “But I made a sketch of each of them, along with a detailed description. Can you spot them using these drawings?”

Clark took the pad and frowned at the pages for a few seconds, then nodded. “As long as they aren’t in a big bunch of kids their own age, I think so.” He held the pad out to Lois.

“No, you keep it for reference.”

“I have an eidetic memory. I won’t forget them.”

That wasn’t good news. She flinched and blinked several times. “Wow. Super-memory along with everything else.”

“It’s not always a good thing.”

Startled, Lois waited for a further explanation, but none came. And Lucy’s face had suddenly gone smooth. There was something going on between them, something she’d triggered with either what she’d said or what Clark had said, but she didn’t know what it was, and at the moment she didn’t care. All she knew was that she finally had a chance to get away with her children, a chance for a real life somewhere, a chance for something better and safer.

And she didn’t much care what it was. Even if she ended up running a laundry for lumberjacks in Oregon, it had to be better than being an international assassin. Anything would be.

*****

Lucy listened to her sister’s story and knew, despite the depth of her revelations, she hadn’t told them everything. She wasn’t sure how she knew, she just did. There was a big part of the past seven years that Lois didn’t want them to know about, something that Lois believed would have caused Clark not to agree to help her.

Lucy didn’t have an eidetic memory, but she’d trained herself to remember little things in computer systems and put them together to form a picture of the problem. Debugging systems – not just individual programs – was her strong suit, and it was one of the reasons she’d risen so quickly in Wayne Tech, the main reason Calvin had encouraged her to pursue her Master’s degree. He’d told her repeatedly that some people didn’t respect anyone who didn’t have the educational qualifications they did, and while Lucy already knew most – if not all – of what the degree program would present to her, she needed to have the proof that she knew what she was talking about.

So when Lois looked alarmed when Clark mentioned his memory – something that should have encouraged her – Lucy started putting together some facts.

Before this past week, Lois hadn’t known there was a Superman in America, much less known anything about him. That was almost unbelievable – unless she’d been in hiding the whole time, cut off from the usual news sources.

Clark’s memory meant that any inconsistencies in Lois’ story would show up in his mind as soon as he thought through everything she’d told him.

She had suffered numerous injuries over the past seven years, some of which were recent. The vast majority of those injuries had resulted from up close and personal fights, either hand-to-hand or with firearms.

Lois was still alive even though she’d been shot at – and shot – from close range.

Her reflexes were on a hair-trigger and she struck hard without warning.

She said that her reflexes had saved her life several times. And she was a fierce hand-to-hand fighter.

She had handled her pistol with professional skill and expert ease – almost as if it were a part of her body.

Her attitudes toward non-Caucasians ranged from extreme distaste to overtly hostile.

She’d spent a great deal of time around Africa and the Middle East.

She’d been afraid for their parents’ safety when she’d learned that they were in Africa.

She’d revealed that she had two children but had said nothing about their father.

She claimed she was being forced to perform industrial espionage, but the level of coercion she claimed was brought to bear on her was far more than was needed for any corporate spy to do such a job.

She had said or done something to terrify Dr. Frazier during her physical exam.

She hadn’t shown real regret for any of her actions.

She was working for a man – a criminal – a man she originally claimed had been killed recently, but a man who frightened her so much she was too scared to quit.

And she still hadn’t revealed what had happened to her in Africa so many years ago when she’d first disappeared.

Lucy didn’t want to come to this conclusion, but it was the most reasonable one, even if it did require a big leap of logic. Lois was hiding something about herself, something violent and lethal and deadly.

Lois Lane wasn’t just a corporate spy. She wasn’t just doing international industrial espionage. She was willingly working for this madman who held her children. And her job involved fighting – and probably killing.

Lucy didn’t know the circumstances or the reasons. She didn’t know how or why Lois had become who she’d become. She had no idea how many deaths Lois had on her tally sheet. But she was as certain of her conclusions about Lois as she was about Clark’s faithfulness or Dominique Cox’ friendship. People had died because Lois had killed them.

Maybe she’d been forced into it. Maybe she was still doing it to protect her children. Maybe what she was doing now really was a desperate attempt to escape that life.

But it didn’t change the basic deduction.

Lucy’s sister was a cold-blooded killer.

*****

“What are your children’s names?” asked Clark.

“Hmm? Oh, my son is Jean, spelled and pronounced in the French manner, and my little girl is called Collette. He’s almost thirty months old, and she has almost five years. Mother’s pride, maybe, but they’re both brilliant and I love them so much and – and I miss them and—”

Lois stopped and stifled a sob. Clark noted that she’d used a non-American idiom when relating how old her daughter was. It seemed to go with the little hints of multiple foreign accents she occasionally let slip.

He looked around for Lucy’s living room tissue box, the one with the Goofy model beside the opening that he’d given her on her third anniversary at Wayne Tech. It was a too-cute piece of Disney kitsch, totally out of place in her modern living room, but she said she loved it because he’d given it to her.

As he rose to bring the box to Lois, he wondered once again whether he truly wanted Lucy to care deeply about him as friend or as something much more.

Then he banished the thought. It wasn’t the time or place to consider himself. The primary goal here was to get Lois’ children away from this criminal Rodolfo. If possible, he’d make sure Rodolfo was arrested for his crimes, but that was a secondary goal.

As Lois tended to her tears, he said softly, “I need to ask you some background questions.”

Lois’ eyes snapped to his. She gave her nose one last swipe and said, “About the bases’ layout, right?”

“If you have that, yes. But I need to know if your kids have a code phrase, something I can tell them that will let them know I’m not a bad guy.”

She nodded. “There is one. Just tell them that Puff the Magic Dragon sent you.”

He almost grinned and she almost returned it. “Puff the Magic Dragon?”

“Yes. Jean may not remember right away, but Collette will. She’ll know that I sent you if you tell her that.” Lois shifted on the chair. “Anything else?”

“I need more information about Rodolfo. I don’t remember seeing or hearing anything about him from Interpol, and I don’t recognize his organization from the little you’ve said about him. I have to know more before I go busting in there. I don’t want the local police to accuse me of kidnapping.”

Lois nodded. “What do you need to know?”

“Everything you can tell me.”

She tapped the pencil’s eraser on her front teeth. “Tomorrow morning I’ll write up a summary of what I can testify to. I’ll give it to you when you bring my children back safe and sound.”

Lucy frowned and shifted in her seat. “That’s a little like blackmail, isn’t it?”

“That’s the deal. Maybe it sounds selfish and self-serving, but that’s the condition. My kids for my testimony against Rodolfo.”

Clark nodded. “Sounds fair enough to me.” He handed her the legal pad. “Can you sketch him too? And give me a good verbal description. I don’t want to confront the wrong man or waste time looking for him.”

“No problem.”

“And some personal information, too. For example, what languages does he speak fluently? Where was he born? What do you know about his family?”

Lois stopped her hand and looked at Clark. “You know the joke about what you call a guy who speaks two languages, three languages, or just one language? The answers are bilingual, trilingual, and American. Rodolfo is at ease in five languages that I know of and can make himself understood in a bunch of others, like Arabic and Farsi and a few African tribal languages. No one I’ve ever talked to knows anything about his background or his youth or his family. All I know is that he’s a cold-blooded murderer who’d cut out his best friend’s heart with a butter knife and I want to get away from him and stay away.”

“So, you and he don’t exchange Christmas cards?”

Both Clark and Lois stopped and turned to face Lucy, who wore the most innocent expression Clark had ever seen on an adult. His mouth dropped open, then slowly bent into a smile, which was quickly followed by a soft but honest laugh.

Without planning it, without thinking about the consequences, he reached out and captured Lucy’s hand in his, then said, “That’s my Lucy. You always know just what to say to lift my spirits.”

Her eyes brightened and she shifted as if to reach out to him, then stood and let her hand slip from his. “I’ll go pour everybody some iced tea. I don’t know if you guys are thirsty, but I sure am.”

Clark turned back to Lois, who was staring at him with an odd expression. “What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe – maybe some things could have been different if other things were different.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Nothing. Forget it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sure you noticed that Collette and Jean don’t look that much alike. And I’ve noticed that you haven’t asked about their father.”

Clark didn’t answer. He sensed that this was something Lois didn’t want anyone but him to know, and only because he needed to know.

She bit her lower lip, then looked away and said, “I’ve been gang-raped five times since Rodolfo took me, including that first night. The second time was after I came back from my third mission. That’s where Collette—” she stopped and blinked several times. “If he thinks I’m getting too independent, he drugs me and leaves me in a room full of young men who are more animal than human. Some of those guys disappeared. A couple of them are dead. I never knew any of their names. I don’t – there’s no way for me to know who fathered my children.”

Clark froze. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. A woman who had suffered that much in that way would be unlikely to accept an embrace from any man, even if she knew he had no designs on her.

She dashed a tear from her cheek. “You won’t tell Lucy, will you?”

He listened toward the kitchen for a moment. Satisfied that Lucy was still busy with beverage preparation, he turned to face her and said, “I will never reveal anything you have told me to anyone unless you give me specific permission to do so.”

The ghost of a smile drifted across her face. “And you always keep your word, don’t you, Superman?”

“Yes.”

Lois turned her head toward him and her eyes bore into his for a long moment. Then she nodded. “You know, I think you really do keep your word.” She broke eye contact and resumed sketching Rodolfo. “I’ve been thinking about some things, some stuff I read in that book about you.”

“Which one?”

“The one by the guy from the Planet, the one Lucy doesn’t think should be recycled into toilet paper.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “I know the book. What were you thinking about?”

Her pencil slowed but didn’t stop. “The part about the ‘other’ Lois Lane, the woman who talked you into wearing the fancy costume.”

Clark’s eyebrows drew down. He should have expected this topic of conversation, but he had assumed that Lois’ concern for her children would have driven the subject from her mind. Once again, though, one of the Lane sisters completely fooled him.

“Ah. Her,” he said, emphasizing the pronoun.

“Yeah. Her. The Irene Adler to your Sherlock Holmes.”

He frowned in thought. “I guess that’s an appropriate comparison, if not an exact one.”

“It’s close enough for government work. What was she like?”

He frowned, thinking for a moment. “She was like you and not like you. Of course, she came back to Metropolis from her assignment in the Congo.”

“That would make us different, all right.” Lois’s pencil paused and she cleared her throat. “How was she like me?”

He shrugged. “That’s hard to put into words. I’ve met her twice in a bit over seven years, and both times she was under a lot of stress. She’s like you in that she’s smart, determined, talented, very attractive, and focused on her work. And I know that I felt a kind of connection with her, but she was very much in love with the Clark from her world and refused to think about getting involved with me.”

“Getting involved with—” Lois’ eyes widened. “You hit on her?”

He sat back and almost laughed. “No! There was no hitting on anybody going on. We just – I liked her, admired her, and respected her. And that was it.”

“Uh-huh. And what did Lucy think about all that?”

“I didn’t mind.”

Clark had heard Lucy’s stealthy approach with the tea, but apparently Lois hadn’t. Clark stiffened for quick action as Lois flipped the pencil in her hand and gripped it underhanded like a knife, but relaxed as Lois slowly turned it back to hold the point and return her attention to the sketch.

But Lucy wasn’t finished talking. “Clark and I didn’t know each other very well the second time he and the other Lois met, and I only knew of her from the news reports the first time she showed up. Our friendship started while he was looking for you in Africa.”

Lois smiled at her sister and picked up her glass. As she lifted it to her lips, she muttered, “I wish he’d found me.”

Clark assumed that Lois hadn’t meant that comment to be heard, so he didn’t respond to it. Instead, he pointed to the pad and asked, “Are you finished?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess so. Here.”

He took the pad and looked at it. The man staring back at him didn’t look like a master criminal. He could pass for someone’s jolly Uncle Roddy, the man who came to holiday dinners and sent nice presents to his sister’s children. He could be a department store Santa, bouncing children on his knee and promising them the best Christmas ever.

Then Clark looked closer.

The eyes were flat and dead.

If this was an accurate rendering of the man – if this was what he really looked like – Clark would never forget him. He wouldn’t be able to forget him. If the eyes were truly the windows to the soul, and if Lois had drawn him accurately and not inserted her bitterness and hatred for the man into the sketch, then there was no way to put Rodolfo out of his memory.

Those empty, frigid eyes would remain with him for a long time.

“I’ll find your children and bring them back, Lois.” His eyes locked with Lois’ and he added, “I give you my word that I will do this.”

Lois reached out and grasped his hand. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Then she burst into tears.

*****

Lois cried herself out on Lucy’s shoulder, and it didn’t take much convincing to get her to call it a night. Clark waited by the front door as Lucy put her sister to bed.

Lucy smiled at him and out of habit pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She surprised herself as she realized that she hoped he thought it was an endearing trait. “Thanks, Clark. I appreciate what you’re doing.”

“I’m glad to do it, Lucy.” He glanced at his watch and said, “I’d better head back to my place. Even Superman needs his beauty sleep, and I’ve got to be up in the middle of our night to meet Horst when he begins his workday.”

She smiled softly and drew him close. “Just to be on the safe side, let’s say goodnight in the hall. I don’t want to disturb Lois.”

He nodded and opened the door. As she stepped out and pulled the door shut behind her, she reached up and pulled his head down for the most tender and intimate kiss they’d ever shared.

Clark seemed surprised but pleased as he returned her warmth and pulled her close to him. When she finally slid her lips from his and put them near his ear, she whispered, “I really enjoyed that, Clark. And I meant every moment of it. Remember that when I ask you this next question.”

He tried to pull his head back to look at her, but she held his head still. “I need for you to look through the door and see if Lois is still in her room.”

He frowned as if puzzled, but he complied. “Yes. She’s snuggled down under the covers like a good little girl.”

“Good.” Lucy slowly pulled away and looked into his eyes. “I need to tell you some things very quickly so she doesn’t hear, so stay close.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She took a breath and told him all that she knew about her sister, about her attitude toward minorities, her reaction to the news that her parents were in northern Africa, her apparent effect on Dr. Frazier, and her skillful dodging of Lucy’s questions about her activities over the past seven years.

But she didn’t tell him what she suspected.

If her conclusions were wrong, she didn’t want him to have to deal with her paranoid suspicions, and if she were right, he’d come to the same conclusion that she had. Either way, he needed all the facts about Lois he could get.

When she finished, he looked past her shoulder and said, “She’s still in bed.” Then he looked deep into her eyes. “Is everything you’ve told me verifiable?”

“By me or others. I’ve either seen it or seen the effects.”

“Are you worried about staying here with her?”

“No. She and I are family. Besides, she really wants her kids back. She won’t do anything that might put them at risk.”

“I hope you’re right.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. I believe you. And thank you.”

He almost slipped away from her, but she stopped him with a touch on the cheek. “Clark? Please remember what I said.”

“Of course I will.”

“Good.” She tugged his head down and kissed him again. “I mean this, too. I’m not just using it as a way to get you alone and talk.” She dropped her head to his chest and wrapped her arms around his massive torso as far as they would go. “I just wish I hadn’t waited so long.” She sniffed and added, “I haven’t waited too long, have I?”

“Lucy, I – H. G. Wells thinks I’m supposed to be bonded to Lois, that we’re linked by some mystic tie throughout history and even across dimensions. And before you ask, I’m not sure if I believe it. All I know about it is that he does. That’s why he brought her to Metropolis, to meet me and get our relationship started.” She felt his sigh as much as she heard it. “We’re supposed to have this connection between us, some kind of mental or spiritual tie that binds us. Wells used the term ‘soul mates.’ I would have said that I’ve never felt it, except that tonight is the first time I’ve met her where I felt like she was being more like herself, and I felt – something. I don’t know what it was or how to describe it, but something’s there.”

Control. She had to maintain control. She forced her voice not to betray her. “Are you saying that – that I have waited too long? That you – that I’m going to be your sister-in-law soon?”

Gently, he lifted her chin with his finger. “No. I’m not saying anything like that. And I have no idea what Lois is thinking. But it’s something we need to discuss later, don’t you think?”

She tried to smile. “Yes. Later. That’s a good time.” She slowly pulled her arms between them and grasped his hands with hers. “As long as it’s not too much later.”

His eyes deepened and she felt as if she were falling into them. “It won’t be, I promise.” His lips touched hers once more and drew back too quickly. “I’ll be at the Hamburg BKA office first thing in the morning their local time,” he said. “That’s what they call Interpol in Germany. I’m sure my buddy Horst can help me. I’ll come back and see you when I know something more.”

This time she let him go as he slipped away. “Godspeed, Clark,” she said.

I hope you love me half as much as I love you, she thought.

As he disappeared down the stairs, she wished she’d said it aloud.