Chapter 2
Lois woodenly settled herself in the car. She stared at the back of the driver's seat, unseeing, her wedding dress fluffed around her. Lex was dead. Clark was missing. And Clark had been right. She held in a sob. She tried to make sense of what Perry had told her, but it wasn't working. She couldn't even come up with the questions to ask. She shivered. Lex had been dirty enough to kill himself, rather than give himself up. He must have known he'd have been looking at a long prison sentence. And she needed Clark.
"How can you say that, Lois?" Jack demanded.
She forced herself to look in his direction, tried to make her eyes focus. "Say what?"
"You just said that you need Clark," he said flatly.
Oh, she'd said that part out loud. She wondered if she'd said anything else out loud. "I do," she admitted, her throat tight.
"You broke his heart, Lois! How can you ask for him now? Especially when your fiancé probably had him—"
"Jack!" Perry admonished.
Jack subsided, but Lois heard what he'd left unsaid. Her criminal fiancé might be why Clark was missing. They really believed Lex was capable of kidnapping—although she had no idea why Lex would have had Clark kidnapped.
"What arson was it?" she asked, hoping this might give her a clue as to Clark's whereabouts. She remembered that was what Henderson had arrested Lex for—that and other unmentioned crimes. Lex had once told her that he'd done things he wasn't proud of, and she'd always assumed that he hadn't gotten to where he was without bending a few rules—much as she'd done in her line of work—but she'd assumed that he'd meant things like fudging on his taxes or other white-collar crimes. Arson and doing something to Clark were a whole different ball game.
"Maybe we should talk about that later, honey," Perry said, sounding surprisingly tender for her gruff editor-in-chief.
"No," she said. Didn't he understand that she needed to know? Needed to find Clark?
"We'll be at Clark's soon; we can talk then," Perry said.
"Clark's?"
"Yeah, we've been bunking with him the past couple of weeks, and there are probably reporters crawling all over your place."
She slumped back into the seat. Clark's. Maybe he'd be there. Maybe then she could figure out what was going on.
**********
As they walked in the door to Clark's, the emptiness hit her. He wasn't here.
"Do you, uh, want to change into something else, darlin'?" Perry asked.
"Yeah," Lois said blankly. She didn't have anything else with her.
"I'm sure Clark wouldn't mind if you borrowed somethin', or one of us can lend you somethin'."
"Yeah," she said again. Clark wouldn't mind. He'd lent her clothes before when they'd been here late, working on a story. If he was missing….
"Chief, there's a message on the machine!" Jimmy said, then pressed the play button.
Clark's voice filled the apartment. "Hey guys, it's Clark. I, uh, heard the latest about Luthor. Sorry I missed out on the end of the investigation. I'll check back in a couple of days. Feel free to stay at my place."
Lois noticed that Jimmy and Jack seemed overcome with relief. They'd really been worried about Clark.
"He's alive," Jimmy whispered.
"Yeah, but where is he? Why didn't he say if he was okay?" Jack said. "And where was he?"
"We'll just have to ask Clark when he gets back," Perry said firmly, giving the guys a sharp glance. "Now, Lois, were you goin' to change?"
"Change. Right." She forced herself to walk back into Clark's bedroom. Sweats were in the bottom drawer. T-shirts in the middle drawer. She collected what she needed then went back into the bathroom. They'd really been worried for Clark's life. Why hadn't he said where he was or if he was okay? She shook her head, trying to clear it. Change first, then worry about the rest, she thought, then promptly realized she had no idea how to get out of her wedding dress… If Clark were here, she could have asked him to help. It would have been awkward, but less awkward than asking anyone else.
Oh, Clark, where are you? I need you!
How could he leave her like this? It wasn't like Clark to just duck out and leave his friends high and dry—well, actually, it was, but she never would have thought he'd do it now, not when he had to know that she'd need him. She grimaced at herself in the mirror as a sudden thought hit her. She couldn't believe what she was thinking. Lois Lane didn't need people to get her undressed. That was Lois Luthor, and she refused to be Lois Luthor.
A tiny spark of anger lit inside her. She'd gotten herself into this mess, and she'd get herself out of it. She twisted and turned, trying to grab hold of the darn buttons. If she could just get the first couple undone, she thought she'd be able to reach the rest. After five minutes of trying nicely, she gave up. She'd been nice for far too long anyway—going along with Lex's plan for their wedding, Lex's choice of her wedding dress, Lex's blueprints for their house. She strode grimly out into the main area. Jimmy and Jack were sitting on the couch with the TV on. Perry was in the kitchen, looking through Clark's cupboards.
"Lois, are you okay?" Perry asked. "I thought you were going to change."
"I am going to change," she said through gritted teeth. "I just need"—she dug through the appropriate kitchen drawer and held up Clark's scissors—"these," she said, and whirled around, heading back into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, she was able to cut enough of the dress to wrestle it off. It was hideous anyway. No one would be mourning its loss. No one would be mourning the loss of Lois Luthor.
She put on one of Clark's T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants his mom had left the last time she'd visited, then bundled the dress into a pile. She'd find somewhere to pitch it sometime soon—unless, did she need to return it to Lex's lawyer or the police, along with her ring? Something else to figure out later.
Time for some answers. She tried to still the trembling deep within her, and fan the anger. Now was not the time to fall apart. She'd survived her mother's alcoholism and her father's affairs. She'd survived her parents' divorce. She'd survived Linda's disloyalty and Claude's betrayal. She would survive this too.
She walked back out and sat on the chair across from Jimmy and Jack. "Okay, spill. What arson?" she demanded.
Jimmy and Jack just stared at her.
Perry came and sat down too. "Well, darlin', the reason Jack here isn't under arrest is because we found out he'd been framed for the bombin' of the Daily Planet." He took a deep breath. "Luthor was the one behind the bombin'."
"Lex was? Are you sure?" Lois asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"Yeah, honey. I'm sorry," Perry said.
"So that was the arson?"
"Yeah."
"What else?"
"What do you mean what else?" Perry asked, stalling.
"Henderson said there were other crimes."
Perry sighed. "Lois, even Elvis knew when he needed to take a break. You've been through a lot today."
Jimmy shook his head. "Chief, you know Lois is happiest when she has the most information. Just tell her."
Lois threw Jimmy a grateful look. "Jimmy's right, Chief. I need to know. I can't just take a break. I need to know."
Jack nodded. "Yeah, Chief, Lois should know what a great guy her fiancé was," he drawled.
Perry glared at Jack. "All right. I only know the most recent stuff. Clark has some information on earlier events. Luthor—uh, Lex—was 'The Boss.'"
Lois gasped. "The Boss?" She'd never fainted in her entire life, never even felt close, but now she felt light-headed. She'd heard occasional whispers of a shadowy criminal who ran a lot of the crime in Metropolis called, "The Boss," but no one would talk, and she knew better than to risk her sources' lives by pushing for information they couldn't safely give. Investigating The Boss had been on her back burner for over a year.
"Yeah."
"So those other crimes too numerous to mention were related to Lex being 'The Boss'? Or is there more I should know?"
"We found out that Luthor was behind all the financial troubles the Planet was havin' right before he bought it," Perry admitted reluctantly.
"So let me get this straight: Lex sabotaged the Planet, then bought it out once it was about to go under, and then blew it up?"
"Pretty much," Perry said.
"Okay. Well." Lois stood up and began fiddling with the souvenirs Clark had displayed on his bookshelves. This was all too much to take in. A part of her kept expecting to wake up and find it was all a nightmare, or that she'd somehow slipped into an alternate universe, this place bore such little resemblance to the reality she'd thought she lived in. The only thing she knew was that she needed to be alone. Now. Before she reacted badly in front of anyone. Her apartment was out—unless she could sneak in there somehow. Maybe a hotel room at least for tonight. And a disguise for tomorrow.
"Lois?" Perry said.
"Chief, I think I need some time to myself. I'll find a hotel room; at least, do you know where my purse got to? Did you guys happen to pick it up or my keys?"
"Um, no."
"Oh, well, maybe my mother has them."
**********
An hour later Lois had managed to ascertain that her mother was at home, drunk as a sailor, but that she had Lois's things. Perry took her over to her mother's house to pick them up, and then dropped her off at a hotel. Before she'd left Lois had collected a few things from Clark's and her mother's to aid in her disguise. She sat down on the hotel bed, holding herself perfectly still, trying to slow the multitude of feelings fighting to escape.
She was supposed to go to the police station tomorrow to talk to Henderson. It was not going to be pleasant to tell him that she'd been completely fooled by Lex's façade. How was she ever going to work as a reporter in this city again? She held her breath. Focus on what she needed to do. Think about Lex later. And where was Clark? Was he really okay? Why had he left her alone? The tightness in her chest intensified. They'd parted on such bad terms the last time they'd spoken, but then Clark had helped to prove that Lex was a criminal—before she'd been tied to him for the rest of her life. He'd saved her life, again. But if he cared, why hadn't he been at the wedding? Maybe he didn't care anymore.
Think about Clark later. Figure out now. What did she need to do now?
She found the complimentary hotel notepad and began making a list. She had to give her statement to Henderson. She needed to quit LNN—there was no way she could work anywhere connected with Lex. Why had she ever thought that she could do television anyway? She had to figure out her apartment—she'd already given her landlord notice. Hopefully, he hadn't rented her apartment to someone else. Maybe she should call her landlord today. She had her keys and purse now.
She still needed a few things to finish off her disguise. Although did she really want to disguise herself? Yes, she'd been duped by Lex Luthor. But did she want to compound the injury to her reputation by hiding from the press? Maybe the best thing to do was to just bite the bullet—tell the press that it was her story and to back off.
Did she feel up to that? No, but it didn't matter. She was going to do it anyway. If she couldn't handle the press, she really had gone soft.
She began to pace the hotel room, wondering how the heck she'd gotten herself into this situation. She'd been the best investigative reporter in the city and had somehow missed Lex's true nature so spectacularly as to almost marry the man. It wasn't like she'd missed out on his character from afar either; she'd been supposedly as close to him as anyone in his life, and she'd still missed out on it. Her hands clenched into fists. She could feel her fingernails digging into her palms, providing a welcome counterpoint to the emotions rocketing through her body. She went back over the past several months. What clues had she missed?
The reality was that she had been duped by The Boss and now her life was in tatters. No job. Perry and Jimmy were still her friends, but Clark, the one person in her life that she needed, hadn't been there. She was alone. When the Planet had been destroyed, she'd felt adrift and so she'd latched onto the security that Lex had offered. She'd acted like she, Lois Lane, had needed a man to be safe. What a crock! She didn't need anyone.
Not even Clark? her conscience prodded.
"Not even Clark," she said out loud, as though making a vow. She would figure out what Lex had been hiding, and she would do it on her own.
**********
The next day Lois strode up to her apartment building and bulldozed her way through the mass of reporters, all the while refusing to comment. Luckily, her landlord hadn't yet rented out her apartment so she'd been able to renew her lease. Her answering machine was full of messages from people wanting to interview her about Lex, or offering her money for a kiss-and-tell story. She decided that if she was going to sell her story, it'd be to the Planet—if by some miracle it ever got rebuilt. After changing into one of her favorite business suits, she headed to the police station.
**********
Lois sat in Henderson's office, giving him her statement. Fortunately, so far he'd been impassive about her lack of judgment—no digs about her missing out on Lex's true nature despite her reputation. But, now that she'd started pushing him for information in return, he was being less than helpful.
"Henderson, what do you mean you can't give me anything?" Lois demanded.
Henderson gave her a long look. "Lane, you're not even working as a journalist right now. Why do you need to know?"
"I'm going to freelance," she said flatly. "So spill."
"Can't. I've got an exclusive agreement with Kent. He was the one who headed up the initial investigation, and, as far as I know, you aren't working with him," Henderson said, his arms folded loosely across his chest.
"Henderson, Clark doesn't have a job right now. And anyway, I have more information about Lex than he does."
Henderson raised an eyebrow. "I thought you just got done telling me that you didn't know anything about Luthor's crimes."
Lois rolled her eyes. "I don't. But I do know his associates."
"His criminal associates? You holding out on me, Lane?"
"Of course not, Henderson. Although it's quite possible that some of his business associates were also his criminal associates," she added, thinking of how slimy some of those people had seemed.
Henderson shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I still have an agreement with Kent. If he tells me to talk to you, I might be willing to reconsider."
Lois could tell that Henderson was going to keep telling her no. He was one of the few people who could stand up to Mad Dog Lane when push came to shove. "Fine! Do you need anything else?"
"No, Lois," Henderson said quietly. "Just to let you know: the FBI may want to talk to you too. I'll pass along your statement, but they may want to go over it with you."
Lois stood. "Noted," she said and walked out of Henderson's office.
**********
Lois slammed the door to her Jeep, then slumped into the seat. Great. It wasn't bad enough to have all the papers speculating on her capability as a reporter and as a person—the FBI wanted to get in on the action too.
Well, what did you expect? Lex was "The Boss," and you didn't even notice. Your famed reporter's instincts didn't even go off, despite the fact that Clark tried to tell you about him, she thought derisively.
Her jaw tightened. She was the only reporter in Metropolis with three Kerths. What was wrong with her reporter's instincts? Had Lex really been that good, or had she been that blind?
Perry had told her yesterday that he was trying to find someone to buy the Planet, but even if he did, how could she ever presume to go back to her old job? Would the new owner even want her?
Her spine straightened. What was she thinking? Any owner who didn't want a three-time Kerth award winner was an idiot. Besides, this was one instance. How many other criminals had she put in jail through her work? Maybe she couldn't put Lex in jail now, but she could figure out what he'd been hiding. So what if he was dead? Since when had Lois Lane let a little speed bump like that stop her? And once she'd written up all his dealings, no one would dare say that she wasn't a top reporter. And that meant she'd have to talk to Clark.
It might not be all bad. Clark had abandoned her yesterday, but apparently he'd worked for weeks before that to bring Lex down. On the way to her mother's house, Perry had said that Clark had been the heart and soul of the investigation—and that he'd been frantic to save her, not simply to bring Lex down. Clark could be useful. She just had to be careful not to depend on him too much. And the reality was that she owed him an apology. She had closed the door on a romantic relationship with him weeks ago, and given how things were going in her life now, she intended to stick with that decision, no matter what she'd thought on her wedding day. But that didn't mean they couldn't resume their friendship.
*************
Two days later Lois headed to Clark's apartment. She'd been through two days of hell, trying to explain to the numbskulls at the FBI that she really hadn't been aware of Lex's criminal activities. They'd refused to give her any indication of what information they were fishing for, so she'd spent hours repeating herself, all while watching agent after agent smirk through her discomfort. After extracting a promise that she would contact them if she thought of anything else pertinent to their investigation—like she'd help them after the way she'd been treated!—they let her go. She had planned to talk to Clark the day she'd talked to Henderson, but with one thing and another, today was her first chance. She just hoped he'd be in his apartment and not still off wherever he'd been.
**********
Three days after the Luthor-Lane wedding fiasco, Clark found himself sitting on the couch in his apartment. Yesterday the guys had moved into Perry's old house, which hadn't sold. He'd been able to get away with telling them that he'd realized Luthor was after him, and he'd gone into hiding. Not very complimentary to himself, leaving his friends in the lurch, but it was the truth—when viewed in a certain light. He was thankful for the privacy. But having no powers meant that Clark had lots and lots of time on his hands: Time to feel the lingering pain and exhaustion that lived in every cell of his body. Time to fight against watching or reading the news and seeing the death counts in article after article of Superman-less disasters. Time to avoid seeing Lois and to re-examine the hamster wheel his thoughts of her inevitably turned into. Even though he ached for her presence, he hadn't felt up to seeing her mourn her dead lover or to teasing her out of her depression.
A knock sounded. Clark pulled his glasses down and then growled in frustration. He missed his powers. The knocking continued. He pulled on the long-sleeve shirt he had sitting nearby in case of company and opened the door. Lois. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she still looked beautiful to him. And yet, somehow, seeing her made something in him feel so cold, so numb. He suppressed a shiver. He supposed he should be nervous. She'd want answers, to know where he'd been those two days before her wedding, to know why he hadn't been to see her yet. And he didn't want to talk about it. He supposed he should feel worried that she'd want comforted over the death of her fiancé or maybe feel happy to see her—he knew he'd missed her—but, right now, all he felt was cold.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
"Can I come in?" she asked, taking a step towards him.
"Sure." Clark stepped aside and gestured to the couch. "Have a seat."
Lois sat down. Clark gingerly sat down in the chair opposite, checking that most of his Kryptonite burns remained hidden by his long-sleeve shirt and arranging his hands so the rest were inconspicuous. Before he would have sat next to her. Before he would have broken the awkward silence. Heck, before there wouldn't have been an awkward silence. But now it was after, and somehow when he looked at her, it was as though he were looking through the wrong end of a telescope, as though he were watching himself with her, but not present.
Lois wasn't quite sure how to start this conversation. "How've you been?" she asked.
"Fine. How about you?" Clark asked in a monotone.
Lois grimaced. So that was how it was going to be. "Oh, well, you know." She took a deep breath. Maybe if she apologized now, Clark would be more willing to let Henderson talk to her, and she really did owe him an apology. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. You told me to investigate Lex, and I didn't. I should have listened to you. I should have trusted your instincts the way you would have trusted mine."
Clark gave a small shrug. He really had no idea what to say to that. "I never had any hard proof, at least not until just before your—until just a few days ago. I would have told you more if I'd had proof." Clark hesitated, trying to find something else to say. Lois never admitted that she was wrong. "I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that Luthor wasn't one of the good guys." That was true. Their lives would have all been so much better if Luthor really had been the philanthropist he'd portrayed himself as.
"Yeah. I still can't believe I didn't see it. Some investigative reporter I am," she muttered, looking down at her hands in her lap.
"He was very good at what he did. Most people didn't see it," he said, his tone almost clinical.
"You did."
There was no response to that, so he just sat in silence. She had come to him; she could be responsible for carrying the conversation.
"Well, that sort of brings me to why I came," Lois said, her hands twisting awkwardly in her lap.
"Oh?"
"Clark, I want to investigate him."
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't think it's a little late for that?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't. There are stories to be written. Lex is—was—big news. People still barely believe he was a criminal. Perry told me some of the information you'd collected, and Henderson already said he'd agreed to give us the exclusive since you and Perry dug up the proof."
"I see. You came because you want the rest of the information." No surprise there, he thought bitterly. Of course Lois wanted to take advantage of all his hard work. Of course Lois had talked Henderson into giving her an exclusive even though he'd done the work. Back to the status quo.
"No, I came because I want to investigate him with you. Didn't you hear what I said? Henderson will give us the exclusive—not me." She hesitated, then added, "He actually refused to talk to me alone. I need to do this Clark. I need to figure out what I missed and how I missed it. I need to figure out if it was me or him. I need to do this for me, but I want to do it with you," she said, and he could hear the raw pain in her voice.
"Lois, you don't have a paper to write for. The Planet is gone," he said flatly.
"Neither do you! Anyway, Perry's trying to find someone to rebuild the Planet, but even if he doesn't, I'm sure we could sell stories to the AP or to some other paper."
"I'm sure we could."
"So will you?" Lois asked, almost holding her breath in the face of his emotionless silence.
Clark stared at the floor. Should he? Did he want to? Investigating Luthor would at least fill all his empty moments. And really, Superman should be doing something to atone for his stupidity. This would, after all, give him a chance to put his plan into practice—to interact with Lois and try to push the scale one way or the other, to kill the love or let go of the hate. "All right," he said quietly. "When did you want to start?" he asked, now looking at her.
"Um, well, I don't want to interfere with anything you have going on."
"My schedule is currently wide open," he said politely.
"Okay, then. How about now?"
"Now is fine. Would you like some coffee?"
"Um, yeah. Coffee sounds good," she said, hoping the familiarity of routine would serve to thaw Clark a little.
"Then I'll grab my Luthor notes, and you can look over them while I make the coffee."
"Sure."
Clark walked into his bedroom and collected the appropriate files as though on auto-pilot. Lois moved to the kitchen table so they could spread out.
"Here you go," Clark said, passing her the pile of folders. "I don't have much."
Lois frowned. That "not much" had been enough to get Lex arrested. Although given how Henderson had responded . . . . "I had to give my statement to Henderson yesterday. From what he didn't say, I'd imagine he knows quite a bit more by now," she commented.
"I'm not surprised."
Lois fingered the files, unsure of how to reply. She'd been shocked when she'd heard that there was more, but it hadn't phased Clark a bit. Although what was it he'd said about Lex? That he was a thief, gangster, psychopath, and murderer. Maybe nothing would surprise Clark. She sighed. "Yeah."
**********
By the time she left Clark's apartment, Lois was exhausted. Clark had been unfailingly polite, which was almost worse than anything she'd imagined. She'd prepared herself for anger or bitterness or friendship. She hadn't planned on being relegated to strangerhood by her former best friend. Lois knew things had been rocky between them for weeks, really ever since she'd started spending more time with Lex. The fights they'd had at Perry's retirement dinner and later when she'd seen Clark on the street had been brutal, but they'd had fights before and worked through them just fine. She'd thought Lex was the problem, and, now that he was out of the way, they could resume their friendship, or at least fight about their issues and then resume their friendship. She'd always thought that she'd be the one relegating Clark to strangerhood if anyone was going to do that sort of thing. She'd never in a million years thought Clark would shut her out.
Lex, deal with Lex now; Clark later, she reminded herself firmly.
The day had been eye-opening in that respect. On her wedding day she'd been shell-shocked to find out that Lex had been The Boss and behind the bombing at the Planet, but if Clark was right, being The Boss was far bigger than anything she'd imagined. They'd gone over Clark's notes on Lex's involvement with the tests on Superman, her father's cyborg boxers, the Toaster's, the Metamide 5 experiments, the nuclear plant heatwave debacle that had almost driven Superman out of Metropolis, Miranda's pheromone, and the Superman clone. Clark had even found hints that Lex had been involved in drug smuggling, gun running, and prostitution rings. How could she have missed out on such evil? How could she have looked Lex in the eye and not seen through the mask? Now she knew what those terrorists at the Planet had meant when they'd said they'd be better off with the cops on their tail than Lex. Her fingers tightened round the steering wheel. What if she'd missed vital clues in other investigations?
Lois groaned. Who was she kidding? She'd never begun investigating Lex, so this wasn't another investigation. She had missed all those clues about Lex. She had refused to admit that she could be wrong and had stayed on her set course just to prove that she wasn't wrong—and the whole thing had blown up on her spectacularly. Lois Lane had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was fallible. Maybe she should just throw in the towel. Like Clark had said, the Planet was gone. Maybe it was time for Lois Lane, investigative reporter, to go too. She could move into some other field—something she was more qualified for, something she wasn't such a spectacular failure at. She could start over.
She snorted. Right. Lex had re-proven that she was a failure at love, a failure at life. And what was left when you got rid of a personal life and a profession? She was a failure through and through. Her father was right, she thought dully. If only she hadn't talked Clark into investigating Lex. Then she wouldn't have to know what a horrible person he was. She could have just pretended that she hadn't gotten married because she'd realized she didn't love Lex and ignored the fact that her criminal fiancé had thrown himself off a building rather than go to jail. People confused their feelings all the time. People didn't almost marry mobsters all the time, especially people whose job it was to expose the truth others hid.
Lois parked her Jeep and squared her shoulders. Time to walk into her apartment building. The mob of journalists had left, but she still refused to seem anything less than confident in front of anyone who might know about her failed wedding—which was pretty much everyone in Metropolis, thanks to the media. So, head held high, she walked in.
