Part Twenty-Nine

Noisy echoes of conversation and equipment preparation bounced off the cavernous steel and glass lobby walls of the DMG building which was filled with representatives of every branch of the media. Gregory Daae had boldly called a press conference only hours after the Daily Planet had printed the latest story about the most recent aspect of the TresAx’s financial outrage.

Lois and Clark entered the building through the revolving doors and boldly made their way through the noisy throng of reporters and camera crews. The partners looked like there had never been an involuntary break in their association. Clark was dressed in a sharp charcoal suit set off with a relatively conservative burgundy paisley tie, looking every inch the professional. Lois wore a lavender sweater dress that set off her complexion and trim figure perfectly. Her long, dark brown tresses swept over slender shoulders and down her back. She reached into her ever-present camel-colored briefcase and pulled out a notepad and sharp No. 2 pencil.

Lane and Kent were ready to do battle with the dragon.

More than a few of their colleagues and rivals stepped back respectfully to allow them to the head of the pack. The pair had a right to be so audacious; after all, they were the ones to break the story about not only TresAx’s tax fraud, but also Jasper Templar’s involvement in the scheme. It was one of the biggest business scandals to hit Metropolis in a decade. While Braxton and Guerin’s names and reputations were thoroughly and permanently sullied, Clark, Todd and Dennis had emerged from infamy and were now considered heroes.

Clark’s brown eyes were keenly fixed on the temporary stage that had recently been erected between two escalators, a perfect location for Daae’s press conference. The platform was sturdy with stairs on either side of the stage, covered with industrial strength gray carpeting and black skirting. Despite the effort to make it look pleasing-to-the-eye with silver guardrails and a polished wooden speaker’s stand, the hastily constructed stage seemed better suited for a high school gym dance band than the modern building set in the heart of Metropolis’ business district.

“This is quite a change from last week,” Clark spoke so only Lois could hear him, “then no one wanted to return my phone calls. Now my home phone is ringing so much Uncle Wayne can’t get through! Any idea what Mr. Daae is going to say?”

Lois sniffed, “Whatever it is, it ought to be an education for the younger reporters to see how Daae does damage control at this press conference.” She shifted the conversation, “Any word on whether Templar is still a guest of the MPD?”

“Inspector Henderson says he’s made bail, but with so many cops and reporters following him, he might as well have remained in custody.”

Lois faced her partner and smiled knowingly. “Good, Templar needs to know he’s being tailed and that his days of intimidating people are at an end. He shouldn’t worry; his boss is the next one to be spotlighted. Soon he’ll be doing another press conference claiming he’s innocent of tampering with the media to further his own ends.”

“That will be fascinating to see. None of this could have happened if it weren’t for your tenacity. Christy Matthewson and Luka Brenner would have been proud of you.” Clark said.

She looked at him intensely, had it been a year since he quietly entered into her life? So much had happened in that short time; he had changed; the openhearted, world tramping young man had matured in a myriad of ways. He was still willing to smile, but there was a guarded look in his eyes. How she hated that loss of his innocence. They were closer than before as work partners, yet further apart, as friends. The abruptness of Lana’s betrayal and marriage still stung.

Since the single memorable kiss they had shared in her apartment, Clark was unwilling to be alone with her in private places. Certainly it was not due to some misplaced loyalty to Lana Lang-Daae. There was something else just below the surface … a secret he wanted to share, but for the moment was powerless to do so. There was also a maddening certainty that they had met before, but for the life of her, the memory of exactly where refused to surface. Those matters could be handled in the future. But presently, they had business with a certain media mogul.

“Yes,” she said softly, “Luka Brunner should be here to see this.”

Clark’s only response was to put his hand on the small of her back and guide her towards the platform.

At that moment, neatly attired in a dark blue pantsuit, a very nervous Mrs. Nordell came out from between the escalators and stepped up to the podium. Her small form seemed to be swallowed up in the immense space. Lois could not help but wonder how Stephanie Aronnax with her air of cool efficiency might have handled the media. “Please, ladies and gentlemen of the press, take your seats. Mr. Daae will be out to answer your questions in a few minutes.”

But the pack refused to listen and questions exploded from them like a swarm of bees escaping their disturbed hive.

“Mrs. Nordell, how much money did Jasper Templar steal from DMG in order to bribe those IRS agents?”

“DMG’s stock took a beating this morning when the news hit. Any idea what the effect this situation will have on the European market?”

Peggy Becker’s irritating voice rang out, “How about giving us a clue to what this press conference is all about?”


Lois rolled her eyes, it figures she thought, Peggy was now a stringer for the Metropolis Star and she still hadn’t learned to do research. It would be a miracle if she lasted for any length of time even at that rag. Nonetheless, all the questions had validity and since the print journalist’s deadline was looming, several members of the press snapped at the bit and hurled even more questions at the hapless assistant.

In the midst of the clamor, darkness entered the arena, in the form of Gregory Daae. Wearing a perfectly tailored black Savile Row suit, he walked between the two escalator banks and up to the platform, bent down and whispered something to the relieved Mrs. Nordell. Quickly she moved aside, stepped off the platform and back behind the escalators as quickly as possible, while still retaining her dignity.

The reporters had respectfully quieted down.

The unique lighting conditions of the lobby which were designed to work with the seasonal light spilled over Daae’s tall, spare form. It gave him a rather unique appearance, his wire rim glasses seemed to gleam and when he finally spoke, it was with a cultured voice brimming with authority.

Bon jour. It has come to our attention that a Daae Media Group executive, one who is from our inner circle, has committed several crimes against not only our company but against the government of this country. As a corporate entity, we will not permit such flagrant lawbreaking. The executive was arrested last night in this building. As of this morning, Jasper Templar no longer is employed by DMG. It is our intention that we operate with complete transparency in this matter.”

Harold Judd of New Troy Business Magazine stood up, “Obviously this is a serious matter Mr. Daae. Is that why you as the owner of DMG are making this statement rather than someone else?”

“Yes. Mr. Templar was part of my personal executive team; as such it is my responsibility to work with the authorities in this matter. We have handed over to the federal and local authorities everything in his office including all of his personal effects.”

“Should this go to trial, will you speak in behalf of Mr. Templar’s defense?” Chris Solte of Channel Twelve spoke up.

Daae turned those cool blue eyes at the senior reporter; the light glinted off his steel-rimmed glasses, giving him a sharp, angry appearance. “Oui. That remains to be seen. The authorities have as yet not stated any reason to need my testimony. Still in the spirit of cooperation ...” He spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture

Clark was clutching his pencil and writing rapidly. “Oh he’s good, he is very good.”

“He should be, the man has had decades of practice in this sort of high-level corporate chicanery.” Lois muttered in a voice so quiet only her partner could hear it. “I wonder how much he’s paying Templar to keep silent?”

“How much money would it take to be the central figure in a scandal that will destroy him professionally? Templar would have to be crazy to accept it.” Clark responded.

His partner shook her head, “Maybe. But don’t be surprised if there is a very large compensation package waiting for Mr. Templar after he gets out.”

“We can do some research …” he offered.

“Forget it,” she said dismissively. “That compensation package would be tucked away in an off shore account. Definitely not at any bank in Switzerland.”

Her partner chuckled and responded, “Perhaps, but it would be fun to try, add another layer to our series of articles on Mr. Daae’s serpentine media empire.”

The lovely brunette by his side did not answer, but the faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was so good to have Clark working with her again! A few minutes later Daae wrapped up his press conference and several reporters hurried to payphones in order to meet their deadlines. The reporters from the Daily Planet were among them.

Once the story had been phoned in Clark said “We should have asked him why he decided to throw Templar to the wolves. After all, we know he was the one behind this TresAx’s tax dodge and the illegal takeover attempt of LexCorp.”

“No, let’s hit him when he least expects it. I think Perry wants to print the first article the Monday after the Metropolis Museum’s gala opening of the Napoleon exhibit.”

Clark became quiet as they walked along, “That night is supposed to be a triumph for Professor Bertram Lang.” He sighed and continued. “It doesn’t matter what night it is, Lana and her parents are bound to be affected badly by the articles.”

His partner said nothing, merely took his arm as they continued to walk down the street.

After walking for nearly a block in companionable silence he said, “Lois, when all this is over, we need to go someplace quiet, where we can talk without worrying about being interrupted by villains, media moguls and story deadlines.”

She tried to cover over a sharp pang of nervousness with a laugh, and then said, “Oh? That sounds serious. Where do you want to go to have this conversation, on a beautiful, deserted tropical island in the Pacific South Seas where clothing is optional?”

He fought to hide a smile. Her suggestion was actually not a bad idea he would have to go looking for such an island and if he found one, outfit it accordingly. “No. No, we have been through a great deal together in the past few months and I …”

Fearful and deeply uncertain about where this conversation was going, Lois stopped walking, turned around and placed a hand on his chest.

“Clark, don’t say another word. We can talk when this whole situation with Daae is behind us. After working so long to bring him down I … I don’t want to concentrate on anything else. Come on, we better get a move on, otherwise Perry is going to hang us out to dry!”

***
Perry entered the conference room and with a wide, toothy grin. He laid the evening edition on the conference table in front of Lois.

“Well kids, that’s the final article in the TresAx series. Are you ready to follow up with the DMG story?”

“Almost chief, this additional material provided by Mr. Bonesteel has been dynamite! Can you imagine Arianna Carlin-Luthor sold valuable paintings and only gave a quarter of the cash to those orphanages and pocketed the rest? According to these papers, even her husband didn’t know about the money! Luthor is going to be furious when he reads about this!” Lois said

“Did Agent Scardino take Bonesteel into protective custody this afternoon?” Clark asked

“Yeah. He and Linda King will be sequestered in a location outside of New Troy. The poor guy was scared to death, but he’ll testify when the time comes. He wants Templar in jail in the worst way.”

Clark nodded in agreement; he wasn't the only one who knew exactly how dangerous Templar was. Tristan Bonesteel had good reason to be afraid of him. On the other hand he wondered how Templar could allow himself to be arrested in DMG’s offices. He had more than enough time to make a getaway. Did Daae somehow have a hand in that? If that were so, then the Swiss businessman was far more clever and dangerous than even Lois had suggested.

Maybe he should try one last time to talk some sense into Lana?

At that moment Jack walked in and said, “Clark, there’s a phone call for you on line two.” He hesitated for a minute and continued with a sour expression. “It’s Mrs. Daae.”

Clark looked confused at first and was trying to decide what to do when Perry said in a consoling voice, “Son, take the call in here. Come on Lois.”

Without a word, Lois got up and followed behind Perry, closing the door gently behind her.

Gingerly he picked up the receiver and said, “Lana?”

An angry female voice almost to the point of hysterics said, “I saw you at the press conference! I thought we were friends? How could you and that cheap excuse for a reporter write those articles?”

Taking a deep breath he steadied himself, calmed down and answered in a voice so composed that it sounded like someone else. “Lana, neither Lois nor I would write anything that wasn’t backed up with firm evidence - facts which are irrefutable and will stand up in any court.”

“Lois Lane has been out to get my husband for years, just because he purchased an out-moded newspaper that was owned by a friend of hers. But how could you have fallen for her lies?”

He felt a quiet anger stir inside him. This was so typical of Lana, refusing to listen to the other side of the story. He put a hard clamp on his irritation and said, “They are not lies. Daae did not simply purchase that newspaper; he also broke the heart of a great German reporter by ruining his reputation and then closing that newspaper down. Lois and I are just picking up where Luka Brenner left off.”

Lana huffed and then said, “Gregory doesn’t know I’m calling you. My husband is a clever businessman, he’s above such things as extortion, but if there’s another scandalous article about my husband’s company, I swear I’ll expose your secret … Superman!”

With that Lana slammed the phone down so hard, it hurt Clark’s eardrums.

***

Later that evening Clark was in his apartment slowly pacing the floor and talking with Pete Ross who was sitting on the couch. He whistled softly and said, “She actually threatened to expose who you really are?”

“Right. What happened to the sweet-natured girl we grew up with? Didn’t the three of us pledge to always protect each other and ‘the secret’? I can’t believe she would do such a thing.” Clark stood facing his balcony and looking outside. If Lana went ahead with her threat his life would be ruined. What could he say to Lois and the rest of his friends?

“She’s desperate. Clark, you can’t give in to such emotional blackmail. If you do it will never end.”

He turned and said, “Yeah, tell me about it! But it’s not just me at risk, it’s all my friends. What about you? Not to mention Uncle Wayne and Aunt Mary could be deeply hurt by this. I’m a journalist and I know what will happen to our hometown? Smallville will be crawling with people who won’t have any scruples about asking deeply personal questions … questions that will tear the town apart.

“Hey! Easy Clark! I’m the least of your worries. As for the Irigs, don’t count them or our friends in Smallville out just yet. I doubt seriously if Lana will carry through with a threat like that.”

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s easy for you to say pal, you didn’t hear her.”

Pete nodded sagely, “There’s someone else who is not going to be happy about you keeping this from her, that’s for certain. Maybe it’s time to finally tell Miss Lane exactly who you are? Lois is a clever woman and might help with a solution to the problem?”

At that moment there was a loud knock on the door. Clark looked through the wooden entrance with his X-ray vision and smiled for the first time in hours. “That solution is right outside.”

With a burst of super speed, Clark opened the door with a flourish, on the other side stood CJ, Wanda and H.G. Wells. Clark turned to his old pal and said, “Pete Ross, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine, they have come a long way, a very long way indeed to help.”

***

Across town Preston Carpenter sat in his office reading the Daily Planet’s story covering Daae’s press conference. The Metropolis Star was the only paper in town that had buried the story on page six. The last thing he needed was another reason for Daae to be even more furious at him than he already was.

When the series hit the streets with Linda King’s name as contributor, Preston immediately went to her condo, only to discover it empty and up for sale. His former lover had vanished.

That evening Daae had appeared at his home demanding to know why Linda had betrayed them. Although he was frightened, Preston explained he was just as much in-the-dark as the Swiss businessman. Oddly, Templar had said nothing about his deal with Preston. But he wondered how long it would take for a federal prosecutor to sweat the information out of him?

He looked around the office; it was brightly lit, as if to keep enemies and the cavernous shadows of his nefarious plots away.

It was only a matter of time before Daae did discover the truth about Preston’s business relationship with Templar and once that happened, his life would be over. The time had come to put an exit strategy into place. Rio was lovely this time of year.

***

The next day, Lois found a royal blue envelope made of heavy vellum card stock, the kind made for high-society weddings. The address was lettered in an elegant gold calligraphy. She quickly opened it and read:

The Metropolis Museum cordially requests your presence
At the opening gala of the Age of Napoleon Exhibit
Friday, September 13, 1996
European Wing
305 Clarence Boulevard
Metropolis
Canapés & Champagne shall be served upon arrival
5 Star Three course meal
Dancing immediately afterward with live entertainment

“Wow. Hey Clark, Catherine, look at this.” She said in a voice that was almost reverent in its tone.

“I received the same envelope.” Catherine Grant said in a similar manner.

“So did I.” Clark responded. “Why would they do that? After all, Daae and at least some of the folks from TresAx will be there.”

Perry stepped out of his office and approached the trio. “It looks like all of us are invited to a very special shindig at the Metropolis Museum. The food is going to be cooked by the staff of Gaston Bardot. They are flying in members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra to provide the music. Hell, the only thing that could make this a perfect evening is if the King himself showed up to say a few words.”

Catherine shook her head excitedly, “Talk about ironic! Invited to the social event of the season toasting the success of Professor Lang and the museum’s Napoleon exhibit and then the next day the Daily Planet is going to scandalize his son-in-law and the Luthors. This is going be quite the week.”

“That is an understatement! I wish I could be a fly on the wall to see the reaction on their faces when they read that series.” Lois said, her eyes flashing.

Stacy walked over to them and said, “Besides the obvious, doesn’t anybody appreciate the amazing history of Napoleon Bonaparte?”

Lois shrugged, “He was the French Emperor, but his time is long past.”

A groan escaped the young intern’s lips. “Guys, if it hadn’t been for a Category 3 Hurricane that swept over the English Channel he would have conquered the British and history would have been completely different!”

“True enough. On the grand scheme of things, he was an impressive figure. I am looking forward to seeing these tableaus of major events in Bonaparte’s life.” Catherine said thoughtfully.

“Are there any scenes of his apartments in Paris?” Stacy asked.

“Sorry, the invitations do not tell of which parts of his life are going to be on display. Although I do know at least one is of Napoleon’s palatial camp tent and luxurious furnishings. Why?” Clark asked.

The young intern’s eyes sparkled, then she responded. There are so many interesting aspects to his life; soldier, politician and a loving brother. But there was one person he could never conquer …”

“Josephine?” Diane asked, joining in on the conversation.

“Yes. In the very beginning their relationship was similar to most liaisons of the time. Napoleon thought this marriage was a ‘good bit of business’. By marrying the widow of a nobleman, who possessed a fine townhouse in the best location in Paris, he was immediately granted entrée into the ‘old’ society whose elegance and splendor he greatly admired.”

“Wasn’t Josephine rich?” Steve asked, you could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes. By now several members of the bullpen staff were listening as Stacy spoke. This was without doubt a change from their usual morning.

She chuckled, “That’s just it, Josephine had very little money, but now that she had married Bonaparte, her financial status was on the rise. He didn’t discover this until afterwards.

Catherine smiled secretly to herself, thinking of Arthur, and asked.
“Did they at least have a lovely wedding?”

“Nope. They were in the room of the Mayor of the 2nd arrondissement in the rue d’Antin.”

“The where?” Elsie asked, looking at Stacy over her spectacles.

“A section in Paris. Anyhow, on the night of wedding, which was raining cats and dogs by the way, Josephine and some of her friends were waiting for the groom to arrive. Apparently he was in the midst of preparing for the invasion of Italy and was running late.”

“How late?” Perry said, despite the evening edition deadline looming, he was drawn into Stacy’s narrative.

She grinned, please to see such interest in the story. “Plenty! He was supposed to be there by seven, but didn’t show up until some minutes after Ten o’clock! He quickly roused the Mayor and the guests and they were married in a swift ceremony.”

“Ouch!” said Perry. “That could not have made her or the guests happy. He must have heard about it later from Josephine.”

“Oh, Josephine didn’t say much, but the same cannot be said for her loyal dog, a pug named Fortune.”

“I’ll bite,” said Steve. “How did her mutt react?”

“Exactly right. Fortune was not used to Napoleon’s ah, vigorous attentions to his mistress and let him know that. The great man, not wanting to share the bed with his new wife and her dog, removed the cur from off the bed, unfortunately, it returned and bit Napoleon on his tender left leg! Needless to say, the Honeymoon was over before it began.”

Howls of laughter flew throughout the bullpen.

Stacy threw her hands in the air and said, “Such is the rocky road of romance. Just think of that when attending this event!” With that she turned about and headed back to her cubicle.

“All right everyone! History lesson is over! Back to work.” Perry’s voice carried out over everyone.

Lois couldn’t help but smile at the impromptu performance Stacy had just put on; a great way to break up the day and learn something amusing about the French Emperor. Then she turned and looked at her partner, his face a mask of consternation, his lips pressed into a tight, firm line.

Perry also noticed and said to Clark. “Son, if you don’t want to go, I understand, between Catherine, Lois and I we can cover the event. No problem.”

“No Chief, I can’t duck a story every time there is a possibility of running into Lana. She chose Daae as a husband and whatever goes with being his wife.” His eyes got a faraway look and he said, “Excuse me, but I need to check on a source.” With those words he hastily departed.

All of them, especially Perry watched him carefully as he quickly made his way up the stairs. Catherine once again silently admonished herself for not telling Clark about Lana’s behavior sooner. With a nod to Perry and Lois she departed.

“Lois. Could I speak to you in private?”

“Sure Perry.”

A few moments later, in the conference room that was still covered with documents and files, Perry spoke. “How is Kent holding up? Can he do this series? It’s hitting very close to home.”

Lois rubbed her chin in deep thought and then said, “This is painful for Clark, but he knows how crucial it is to bring Daae’s activities to light. The man has viciously manipulated the media long enough. Three years ago Constance warned me about the fallout from this investigation, but with his right-hand man implicated in stock fraud and bribery this is the right time to present the truth about him and his company. Both of us are committed to seeing the job through to the end.”

“All right, but keep an eye on him. There’s still a lot of ground to cover. Once we start this series the kid gloves will be off and its all hands on deck. Constance has contracted two paralegals just to help with the legal paperwork on this series alone. When your partner gets back from visiting his confidential source, both of you lock yourselves in here and write up a story that will do the Daily Planet proud! I’m expecting at the very least a Pulitzer nomination for you both.”

“We won’t let you down, Perry!” Lois said smartly.

As soon as Perry returned to his office, she was working on the Arianna Carlin-Luthor part of the piece. An hour later there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Lois called out.

Catherine entered holding her handbag. “Lois, time to call it quits for today.”

“Are you nuts Catherine? Look at all this paperwork!” She gestured to the files and printouts. “The series outline for the articles has to be finished, otherwise it’ll take forever!”

“Uh huh. Look, if there is anything I know about you and especially Clark is that you are the fastest typists in the bullpen! The outline will keep until tomorrow. But we, my dear friend, we have more important matters to tackle.”

Lois stood up and glared at her friend. “More important than turning out a series of articles that has an excellent chance of winning a Pulitzer? Nothing could be more important!”

“Indeed. What were you planning on wearing to the Age of Napoleon event?”

Suddenly Lois looked surprised and tired all at once. She seemed to shrink into herself and say, “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“It is painfully obvious to me, you should. Allow me to help you find something wonderful as a way to pay you back for encouraging me to care more about my appearance. Also, this gala is the perfect opportunity to shine so brightly Clark will forget about that stick-in-the-mud he used to date.”

“What?” Lois squeaked.

Catherine shook her head sadly, “This is me Lois. I know you have been carrying a torch for the man from Kansas almost from the day you returned from that Coalmine disaster story. Now, get your things, we have an appointment at Darcy’s to look for evening gowns.”

Lois sighed. “You’re right …I ain’t got nothing to wear! Let’s go.”

***

Later that evening Clark was in his apartment deep in conversation with HG Wells, CJ and Wanda. They had just finished a sumptuous meal of hashed Brussels sprouts with lemon, brown rice and sautéed chicken breasts. Wells leaned back with a contented air and said, “Ah Clark, now that we have all dined sufficiently, it is time to discuss our plans. We must make certain Tempus does not reveal your secret identity to the world.”

“So that’s the reason for coming to the event with me?” Clark asked dubiously.

“No, it will be more like us shadowing you. It won’t do any good if people see Lois … ah Wanda and get her confused with the real Lois. Or that is to say the Lois from your world.”

“Exactly.” Wanda said while adjusting a short blonde wig on its stand. “CJ and I looked the place over and we can gain access to the building through a service vent.”

Clark shivered, “Service vent? Isn’t that rather dangerous? What if the vent turns on while you two are in there?”

Wanda smiled, “In our world we are used to doing a little breaking and entering. Something you and my doppelganger apparently haven’t indulged in. CJ will disable the vent long enough for us to slip in and then wait until evening comes. Afterwards, I’ll change into a proper evening gown and mingle with the guests. CJ will stay out of sight unless he’s needed.”

“You two make everything sound so simple.” Clark said shaking his head in disbelief.

“The best plans my boy usually are the most straightforward.” H.G. responded with relish.

“But why on the night of the Ball? Tempus may be out on bail, but he’s keeping a very low profile and has been under careful guard. Dan Scardino himself is heading up the detail.”

CJ bristled at the mention of the agent and said, “That man is a loose cannon, if he is in charge I better fly over there and keep an eye on Tempus myself!”

“Maybe we should ask Mayson Drake to put Tempus under house arrest until he goes to trial?” Clark said.

Meanwhile Wanda’s head shot up, and she asked, “Wait a second, Mayson Drake is here?”

Clark looked curiously at the couple and said, “Is there something I’m missing here?”

Quickly they filled Clark in on their history with Daniel Scardino and Mayson Drake. They were both relieved to hear that Mayson was alive, yet on the other hand taken aback that she was a good acquaintance of both Lois and Clark and was currently dating the government agent.
Wanda said softly, “The more time we spend in this alternative universe the more amazing its differences are to me. At least this time your Lois and Mayson are both alive and well.”

“It’s still hard to believe Mayson is dead in your world.” Clark muttered.

Herbert cleared his throat and said, “Ahem, my friends we are getting off the subject, it is imperative to discuss and formulate a plan for keeping Clark’s secret from being divulged. a secret.”

Wanda nodded thoughtfully. “When I came here the first time, your secret identity was exposed by Tempus during the live mayoral election debate between himself and Perry. Neither of us realized Tempus was having us followed and filmed you flying around Metropolis with Lois in your arms, in your regular clothing. We have to be certain Tempus does not succeed in revealing who Superman is during another public event.”

The expression on Clark’s face was grim, his voice bleak with remembered bitterness. “He wanted to use my being an alien as a threat to Metropolis and the world. To … to make me seem like a freak and a dangerous threat. If I hadn’t stopped that bomb from exploding many innocent people would have been killed.” He turned and looked at the time traveler. “If Mr. Wells had not stepped in and helped me prevent Lois from getting on that flight …” His voice trailed off.
Herb cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. “Ah … yes circumstances have changed radically since then, but Tempus might decide to expose Clark Kent as Superman anyway.”

“Considering all the media attention Tempus has garnered of late, turning the spotlight on someone else will only be for his benefit. Your presence as the Man of Steel is firmly fixed in the public eye as a do-gooder.” Wanda said quickly.

CJ joined in, “A do-gooder who is most effective as long as his secret identity remains intact.”

“Something I desire very much. In that previous existence while I was engaged to Lana my life seemed so shallow … pre-packaged. I allowed her to direct my every step. Ever since Mr. Wells showed up my life is on the track it should have been.” He looked up at his audience and said, “Does that make any sense?”

CJ gripped his shoulder, cast a brief glance at his wife and said with deep sympathy, “It does.”

“Anyway, going back to that way of life has little appeal. Lois … my Lois and I are becoming friends maybe even more than friends. Gaining the chance to be with her is worth anything.”

H.G. Well’s eyes misted over and he said in a wavering voice. “Words well spoken Mr. Kent. All of us shall endeavor to make certain such an existence becomes reality.”

***

Several blocks uptown in the Lane home, Lois and her mother discussed the jewelry she planned to wear to the Napoleon Gala while preparing Sunday dinner.

“My sapphire necklace and earrings are gorgeous and should work perfectly with the white gown. How exciting! My daughter will be attending such a swanky event, an event which gets coverage on all the media outlets! Your father has actually bragged about it to his surgical team!”

Lois felt the hot blush of embarrassment creep it way up her face. “Mom, Daddy shouldn’t have done that! It’s just a glorified Exhibit opening.”

A voice floated in from the Dining room. “Sure, an ‘ordinary’ exhibit opening that’s utilized the expertise of several Napoleon experts from Europe and has taken a lot time and money to construct. According to Waldo Lydecker, of the Washington Times ‘It’s the most lavish museum exhibit to hit Metropolis since the Picasso exhibit in the early eighties’.”

“Why are you reading the Washington Times instead of the Planet?” Her mother called out.

A bespectacled Lucy entered the Kitchen and said. “It’s what I read on the train coming up Friday afternoon. Mr. Lydecker’s column is relaxing after studying the human circulatory system all week.”

“It’s good to know you’re reading more than the gossip page. Now help us finish dinner. Your father Sam will be home any minute; please prepare the asparagus for roasting.

Lucy walked over to the fridge and removed a large bunch of asparagus spears, fresh garlic and parmesan cheese. She proceeded to take out a knife and oak cutting board in order to remove the tough, woody ends. Her fingers worked quickly to prepare the dish, all the while listening in on the conversation between her mother and sister.

“Lois, show him a picture of the gown and jewelry. Your father may not have a great interest in woman’s clothes, but he might want to see what his daughter is wearing while covering this event.”

“Oh Mother, despite the media swirl, this is just another glorified society event, if we hadn’t been invited, none of us would have been in the neighborhood or paid any attention to it.”

Lucy piped up, “Hey, if you aren’t interested in going, let me take your place! After all, history bores you silly. Bet Clark looks sharp in a tuxedo!”

“Nice try little sis, but Clark is most definitely my date for the evening.” Lois said with a happy chuckle.

“Aha! Things are getting serious?” Lucy asked, her eyes dancing with excitement as she drizzled olive oil over the vegetables.

Their mother said, “No, Mr. Kent is, to use an old-fashioned term, ‘escorting’ your sister to the event. They are not dating.”

Lucy stopped tossing the vegetables with the parmesan and garlic mixture, looked from her sister to her mother and said, “Which is it?
Are you seeing Clark Kent or is he just an ‘escort’?"

Before either woman could answer, the sound of the front door opening reached their ears and Sam Lane’s deep voice could be heard “Ellen whatever’s cooking smells great. I’m going to take a quick shower, be down in a few minutes.”

“Lucy, I’ll put the asparagus into the oven, go finish setting the table?”

The youngest Lane daughter gathered up four plates, silverware as well as napkins and then exited the kitchen, but not before turning to Lois and saying with a wink. “Call me after the event; I want to hear all about this ‘escort’.”

With her sister out of earshot Lois said, “Thanks Mom, Lucy means well, but I’m really not ready to talk with anyone about Clark just yet.” A tiny sigh escaped her lips, than she said, “I want to wait until this entire DMG series of articles are complete before we can think about drawing closer to one another.”

“That’s a good plan. It has been several weeks, yet he requires a bit more time to recover from the news of Lana’s sudden marriage! It’s still hard to imagine anyone doing such a thing. The poor man must have been devastated.”

Lois thought about the brief conversation they had after Daae’s press conference. He was emerging from the cocoon of pain and hurt, actually getting on with his life - despite the fact that her partner tended to disappear at odd moments. She suspected that even if Daae had not broken up the relationship, Clark and Lana might not have stayed together for very much longer. From her observations they were rapidly moving in opposite directions. His fierce determination to have a reputation of his own in the newspaper business and to help her finish the expose on Daae’s media manipulation made that perfectly clear.

“He was devastated. But the support of good friends and keeping busy is helping him to cope.”

Ellen’s voice dropped low as she placed the asparagus into the oven.

“Be that as it may, don’t let him know how you feel until that minx is completely out of his system. Neither Sam nor I could take another late night phone call from you like that last one. Your father was ready to come down to the paper and give that young man a piece of his mind!”

Lois offered up a silent prayer of thanks that Sam Lane never learned the entire story about Claude. If he had, both Sam and Uncle Mike might have beaten her former boyfriend senseless.

“I won’t. Clark and I shared a very ill-timed kiss. It was just as much my fault as his,” she said in a guilty tone.

“No reason to argue on that point. Nevertheless, it’s high time we met this partner of yours. After all, we know everyone else at the newsroom. What about getting dressed here instead of at home? The car service – and Mr. Kent – can pick you up here. Especially since we live much closer to the museum.”

Lois gazed at her mother with an expression mixed with surprise and not a little amusement. “Mother, this would be like when Sherman Grimes took me to the Senior prom! Daddy was merciless!”

“Exactly!” Ellen shot back, her blue eyes filled with happy mischief as the memories of that long ago night filled her mind.



Last edited by Morgana; 12/17/16 01:29 PM. Reason: Clean up the posting.

Morgana

A writer's job is to think of new plots and create characters who stay with you long after the final page has been read. If that mission is accomplished than we have done what we set out to do, which is to entertain and hopefully educate.