A/N: I hate to do this to you again, Folcs, but here's another half parter. RL has been kinda busy lately. Hope you enjoy this little bit, though, and I'm still working on the rest! 
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He'd brought it on himself.
After finally changing out of those garish tights, Michel should have simply gone home or back to Clark's apartment; but no, he'd just had to stay and watch Superman save the day. He'd even cheered when the train finally ground to a halt, sealing Clark's fate but saving the lives of everyone on board. So, he had only himself to blame when a very surprised Miss Lane suddenly turned towards him and exclaimed, "Dr. Renaud?! What are you doing here?"
Naturally, he couldn't just tell her that he'd come to console Clark over the ban on his powers and got caught up in the man's insanity, so he'd thought quickly, remembering the friendly group of German meterologists he'd conversed with on the plane. "I'm...here to study the unusual heat," he explained. "To see if perhaps any geologic activity is causing it," he added, feeling very proud of himself for the improvisation. Yes, he'd felt so clever...right up until he noticed how wide her eyes had suddenly gotten. Now, as she led him into the Daily Planet's computer room and began loading up his arms with maps of the city, he found himself sort of wishing he'd gone with the story about the sick aunt.
"...And we're still working on getting some more," she continued, while Michel skimmed what seemed to be an old blueprint for the subway system. "Jimmy should be here shortly. If you need anything else, just ask him and he'll go get it for you."
As if on cue, the door opened and a young man bustled in, carrying yet more papers. "Sorry I took so long, Lois, but I got some more maps from the water department, the transit authority, and the IRS." He looked up and noticed Michel. "Who's this?"
"Jimmy, this is Dr. Michel Renaud, a geologist from Paris," Lois introduced. "He's here to help us exonerate Superman. Dr. Renaud, this is Jimmy Olsen."
"Good evening," Michel said politely, shifting his own papers to one arm in order to shake the proffered hand.
Young Mr. Olsen's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "You're the guy that Lois thought was--ow!" A swift jab of Miss Lane's elbow interrupted whatever he'd been about to say. "I mean, nice to meet you," he finished, rubbing his side.
"Well," Miss Lane said, brightly, "I guess I'll leave you guys to it!" With a final, swift glare at Jimmy, she turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
Michel sighed. "It's nothing to worry about, Mother," he repeated dryly to himself, "I'm just going to bring him some desserts and a sympathetic ear."
"Did you say something?" Mr. Olsen asked, looking at him quizzically.
"Nothing," said Michel. He set his armload of maps down next to one of the countless other stacks, then double-taked. Was one of those a placemat?!
