Part Thirty-Two

Mrs. Gregory Daae exited Clark’s building, a chill wind sliced right through her bones, causing her to pull the belt on the lightweight red wool jacket a little tighter and then looked up and to see a grey Jeep Grand Cherokee move away from the curb its tires squealing as if it were being driven by a madman. She looked after the vehicle, wondering who could be in such a tearing hurry. At that moment, a yellow Metrocab emerged from the darkness and quickly she flagged it down.

“Take me to Metropolis General Hospital.” She said, once the door was firmly closed.

The cabbie looked around, he was a heavyset, middle-aged man with freckles, bright red hair and kindly eyes the color of serene tropical seas, and said consolingly, “Miss, I hope the friend or family member is getting all the proper medical attention they need.”

Lana wanted to bark at the man and tell him to keep his eyes on the road. But, looking at his sincere, concerned face in the rear view mirror relented and simply said, “Thank you.”

The two rode in companionable silence the vehicle moved through the brightly lit streets bustling with late evening traffic. The driver weaved and bobbed skillfully around heavy, noisy trucks, large buses with colorful signs advertising all manner of products and services. Thousands of commuters were deserting the city in droves, heading home to the suburbs joining their families and friends for the weekend.

Once upon a time Lana did the same with Clark, albeit they remained in Metropolis. They enjoyed exotic lunches on Saturday afternoons at different ethnic restaurants, walks in Centennial Park and eating delicious roast chicken during quiet Sunday evening dinners with her parents. Occasionally their little group was rounded out with Pete Ross and her roommate Chloe Foster.

On the whole she didn’t miss those days so much as she missed the sense of having a larger family. Marrying Gregory and living in Europe was the perfect answer to her dreams, but now those dreams were threatened.

But, so far it was just the two of them.

Lana reflected back on the conversation she just had with Clark. The seesawing of emotions between fury and contriteness were exhausting, but right now that’s how everything – especially her mind – was going. Anger at him for ruining a perfect life and yet sadness for giving him pain. Someday soon she would resolve these feelings, but not now and definitely not in Metropolis. She still wanted to know who those people were that helped him. But any answers in that direction would never come from him. Right now, all she wanted was to be by Gregory’s side.

Gradually, like an early thaw, she felt tension draining from aching muscles for the first time since she and Gregory arrived at the Metropolis Museum; it did not last for long. Prickles of anxiety ran up and down her spine as the cab approached MetroGen.

The cabbie’s voice, like a soothing balm over a fresh wound, said. “Here you are Miss, MetroGen. Have a good night. Hope your friend gets well.”

Lana fished into her purse and found a hundred dollar bill, without thinking twice, she pressed it into his hands and said, “Keep the change.” The driver was dumbfounded. Before he could utter a word of thanks, she stepped from the taxi and entered the medical building.

The hospital lobby was spacious and welcoming; the carpet colors were a tranquil blue and gray, which served to ground the cherry wood tables and upholstered chairs of the waiting area. She approached the admissions desk and said. “I’m here to see my husband, Gregory Daae, he should be in room 1204.”

“Yes, Ma’am he’s still there. His dinner was served a few minutes ago.”

She thanked the nurse and walked down the corridor to a familiar area, before going upstairs to see Gregory, she went to the ER in search of an old friend, hoping against hope he would not be busy. Walking down the busy corridors, painted a deceptively soothing sky blue, she was still uneasy; hospitals were frightening places, aside from helping women give birth, they were to be avoided at all times.

Upon entering the ER she recognized the former halfback of Smallville High School talking to a middle-aged Asian woman at the E.R. admitting desk. He was writing something in a chart. Without preamble she asked out loud. “Pete, how is my husband?”

A very startled Dr. Ross turned around and looked down at the petite, stylishly dressed blonde who he once counted as a close friend. He had not seen her since she had returned from Europe; the change in her clothing and demeanor had taken him slightly aback. “Lana, what are you doing here?”

Before she could stop herself a smirk tugged at her lips. “That seems to be a popular question this evening. Clark asked me the same thing less than an hour ago.”

The doctor’s eyes grew wide with surprise and decided not to ask what had been discussed between them. So he simply said, “Instead of a lengthy medical description, why don’t I take you upstairs?” Pete spoke casually, too casually to someone he formerly knew so well.

“He’s doing remarkably well for a man in his condition. His arm and shoulder will be immobilized in an elaborate cast. Still, I should think by tomorrow we can release him.”

By Pete’s attitude and expressions, Lana knew perfectly well what he thought of her disreputable behavior in the past few months and that he wouldn’t be speaking to her if it were not in a professional capacity. He thanked the nurse, handed her the chart and pointing towards the elevator, they walked down the hallway. They stood in silence waiting as the doors opened. Two orderlies with a gurney exited and headed towards one of the ER bays. They stepped aboard and once the gleaming steel doors closed on them, Lana attempted to inquire about her husband. She was met with stoic silence on Pete’s part.

The elevator came to a smooth stop on the tenth floor and they stepped into another corridor, this one was painted stark white. It was not the first time Lana had been here of course, but the institutional sounds and smells rattled her senses. Already her eyes and nose were irritated from the pervasive smell of powerful disinfectant, urine and human sweat.

Lana reached up and placed a tentative hand on Pete’s arm, gave it a gentle squeeze and looked up at the big man. “After everything that’s happened I know you are uncomfortable talking to me, believe me, I understand, but thank you for helping my husband. It was terrifying when they took him from the museum with such a horrible shoulder wound.” She shivered as the memory of that evening threatened to become overpowering. She still wondered who the ‘other’ Superman was, yet Clark refused to say, simply calling the Doppelganger and his accomplice, ‘friends’.

Pete looked down at her and said in a voice alternating between professionalism and sadness, “I appreciate that Lana, but it is my job. How things worked out between you and Clark was … unfortunate and very sad. That’s all I want or should say on the matter. Now go to your husband, he needs you … and please, take care of yourself.”

Lana nodded stiffly. In that instant it finally sunk in of all she had lost. Her two closest friends from childhood had set her adrift in a new world which felt cold and unfriendly without their companionship. Now she dearly wanted to cry for that loss, but it was far too late. The threesome had indeed gone onto separate paths. One last mystery would remain; answers about the mysterious duo at the museum would never come from either one of them. Turning away, she took a deep breath and entered Gregory’s room.

***

Pete stood by in the corridor until the door closed behind her. The past several months had been painful as he watched one old friend eviscerate the hopes and dreams of another. Truth be told, he had planned on endeavoring to talk Clark out of marrying Lana; anyone with half a brain could see they were ill-matched. Before he could do so, all of Metropolis discovered Clark’s girlfriend had married another man behind his back. That day he had been in the Doctor’s lounge after his shift when he saw Lana, Gregory and Lex on the early afternoon news channel with Lana flashing her engagement ring and wedding band around for all to see. He had been so completely taken aback that he fell onto a hard bench.

He had immediately tried to contact Clark, both at his office and apartment but there was no response. He even stopped by his place, but there had been no answer. He had departed; worried for his friend and hoped Clark was dealing with a rescue.

Thankfully, Wayne Irig had called him a few hours later to let him know Clark was there. It was a relief to him that Clark had flown to Smallville and spent time with Wayne Irig. The kindly old coot must have talked a good bit of sense into his nephew and for that Pete would be forever grateful. With Lana out of the picture, Clark was free to pursue a real woman. Lois Lane would know how to take care of him. Ms. Lane had the unique combination of compassion, intelligence and strength to handle the unexpected. A combination she no doubt inherited from her parents. He smiled to himself, after meeting CJ, H.G. Wells and Wanda she would need all those qualities to stand by Clark’s side. He had no doubt those two would be experiencing some exceptional adventures in the future.

Abruptly the harsh sound of the ER beeper attached to his belt went off. Putting all thoughts of the Daaes aside, swiftly Dr. Peter Ross rushed downstairs. Running to the staircase, he unconsciously registered the sound of the elevator doors opening; except the staircase door closed so fast he failed to see a tall man with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a tan trench coat exit. The man’s face, like his hands were tightly closed, no spark of life seemed to reach his cold, black eyes. Despite being dressed in civilian clothing, his bearing was straight and erect, marking him as having a military background.

“Klingler, take Soames and Nelson with you, makes sure all exits are covered, we don’t want this particular fish escaping; he could disappear into a number of countries that don’t have extradition treaties with the United States. But make certain not to disrupt the patients or medical staff and their work.”

The young black man beside him nodded slightly and with the agility of a sleek cat stepped off the elevator, he was joined by two others, who just as silently moved past the Nurse’s station and walked towards the exits.

***

Lana plumbed up a pillow by her husband’s left shoulder. It was held together with thick bandaging and the left arm as Pete had warned her, was in an elaborate cast with a prop to keep the arm elevate. Since the surgery, Daae had been forced to sleep upright and until today, had been on strong painkillers. “Liebling, I’ve made all the arrangements; as soon as the doctor releases you, we can go home.”

“Oui.” Gregory said in a tired voice. “Recuperation shall be so much … better in … Zurich.”

“Zurich?” Lana wrinkled her brow in confusion. “But I thought we were staying in Metropolis until all the legal problems were ironed out?”

He waved his hand dismissively. That is why I have lawyers who are paid large sums of money to handle situations such as these. It is time we went home.”

Before Lana could answer, there was a sharp knock on the door and then it was swung open, the man in the trench coat entered, followed by a tall man with wisps of gray hair trying vainly to cover a bald head, MetroGen’s Chief Administer, Dr. Hexum, who looked somewhat apprehensive.

Without preamble, the man in the trench coat barked, “Mr. Gregory Daae, I have been given authority to detain you for questioning in the illegal attempt at taking over an American company.”

Lana, thoroughly shocked, snapped, “Are you insane? My husband is recovering from a serious gunshot wound. Please leave him to rest!”

Dr. Hexum looked down, took a shallow breath and said, “Mrs. Daae, your husband is capable of answering a few of this agent’s questions.”

“You are not Gregory’s attending physician. Where is Dr. Ross? Nothing is so important that it cannot wait a few days!” Lana retorted.

Dr. Hexum countered, now on familiar ground, “Dr. Ross and his code team are in the middle of helping a patient who is suffering from a cardiac arrest. It is impossible for him to be here. During my conversation with him earlier today and he assured me Mr. Daae can handle this interview.”

“Sorry Ma’am.” The agent said his words and tone were anything but apologetic, “This won’t wait.”

“Monsieur.” Gregory said in a chilly authorative tone equal if not as determined as Dr. Hexum’s said, “I am a Swiss citizen, I shall not answer any questions put to me by you.”

It was clear the agent had expected this. He sighed and growled, “Why do people like you always make my job so difficult?” He removed an envelope from his jacket pocket. He approached the couple and handed it to Lana, who took it and opened it for Gregory who read it eagerly. His face suddenly went ashen, from nerveless fingers the document dropped onto the thin, white coverlet.

Lana, had known her husband in many moods, but she had never seen his face marred with fear. “Liebling … what is it? What is wrong?”

“The Swiss government is demanding I cooperate.” He glared at the agent. What is your name?”

The man opened his wallet and displayed a shiny metal badge. In a terse voice he said, “Special Agent Jason Trask of the CIA’s Bureau 39: Foreign investigations division.”

***

Across town high atop the LexCorp building, its owner was in an attractive Mediterranean style master bedroom suite, designed to be a quiet and peaceful space to unwind. Seeming out of place in those lush surroundings, Lex lay in a starkly functional adjustable hospital bed with an I.V. pole standing next to it in the center of the room. The head of the bed was elevated and he was exact opposite. Scattered over the red and cream colored dupioni silk coverlet were papers, files, and a number of labeled diskettes. He was in the midst of dictating letters to his new assistant, a beautiful blonde woman named Miranda, who sat perched on a black wrought iron chair, upholstered in soft, white leather.

Only two days ago MetroGen had released Lex from their care, however, he was confined to bed rest for another two weeks. Luthor was attended upon by a round-the-clock staff of physicians and nurses. The recovery from Templar’s gunshot wound had been slow and grueling; nevertheless he had an empire to direct. He was determined to return to the fray and conduct his business affairs both locally and international as usual, despite being in pain. The last thing he wanted was to have LexCorp run by a board of directors whose vision of the future was banal and limited.

Different projects came to mind, such as improvement on the solar panels which would supply unlimited power to the Space Station. One of his engineering teams were exploring the possibility of using crystals, the technology was in its infant stages, but looked promising. The plan was to keep the technology to within LexCorp and then charge astronomical sums to lease it to other stations. Daae thought they were merely reporting on the construction of the space station when in reality Lex owned a sizable chunk of the investments that created it. For a brief space of time his ‘funds’ had run a little short and so he had convinced Daae to join him. As always, he played a far deeper game than anyone knew. With DMG embroiled in so many legal problems, it would be prudent to find a silent partner, willing step in should Daae’s company fall apart.

His soon-to-be ex-wife, Arianna had returned to Boston and was trying to pick up the pieces of her life. He doubted that was going to happened; despite paying numerous and expensive fines to the IRS, she was still facing a trial and the very real possibility of serving jail time in federal prison.

He found the thought soothing, so much for her plans to destroy him.

“Miranda, my dear, take a letter to Arthur Chow … ” His dictation was interrupted by Nigel St. John and Sheldon Bender who entered the bedroom and told him several federal agents were in the penthouse suite.

“What do you mean there are federal agents outside? Sheldon, you assured me this matter regarding Daae was finished!”

The obsequious lawyer shrugged his sloping shoulders that had been built up by an expertly tailored suit. “Apparently this Agent Scardino has some questions. It has to do with a Metropolis Star story written by Linda King a few years back.”

“It is a disgrace that a man cannot recuperate in the comfort and security of his own home.” He growled. “Tell them to return next week.”

Nigel St. John bent down and said in his deep, funeral toned voice. “Mr. Luthor, it might be prudent to speak with them now. These government men were most insistent.”

Before Lex could respond, the door was unexpectedly pushed open, Agent Scardino entered followed by two others, wearing black suits, white shirts and black ties who stood looking every bit like guards impassively by the door.

Looking a Nigel with murder in his eyes, Lex snarled, “What good is a security force if they cannot keep anyone out?”

Scardino held out his identification and announced, “Oh, don’t blame your boys Lex. They were good, but no match for my guys! Now, next week might be a bit too late. Preston Carpenter, informed us you were behind a little gunrunning operation in the Congo. That’s how his former girlfriend, Ms. King was able to report that story without leaving Metropolis for the Congo. I’ve heard of armchair quarterbacking, but that’s ridiculous!” He pulled up a chair; a mate to the one Miranda was sitting on, straddled it and made himself comfortable.

The expression on Lex’s face was ambivalent, but he kept his temper under control. Taking his assistant’s hand he kissed it and said in a silken voice, “Miranda, my dear, we can finish the other letters later. Please don’t forget to set up an appointment with my physical therapist, Mrs. Lundquist.”

“Yes, Mr. Luthor.” With great dignity she stood up and departed from the room, her gentle footfalls hushed by the thick, huge antique Roman oushak rug.

When the door was closed behind her, Lex’s attention shifted to the agent. His voice now held a sneer. “Get up from that chair, it cost a fortune and was not meant for the likes of you! I’ll have your arrogant hide nailed to the wall for invading my home. Bender, get the President on the phone … now!”

Agent Scardino smiled, but it failed to reach his expressive brown eyes. “President Warren thought you might say that.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he removed an envelope. “This is an executive order from him allowing me to question you about the matter. If you refuse to cooperate, this building will be held under federal jurisdiction for seventy-two hours. All communications inside and out will be impossible. I would imagine that could prove to become problematic for a twenty-four hour, seven day a week news organization like LNN? How many billions of dollars will the corporation lose?” He handed the document to Sheldon.

Sheldon looked over the papers and one pasty hand covered his mouth in disbelief. “What Agent Scardino says is correct. It’s all legal and bidding with President Warren’s signature. You have to answer all his questions now truthfully, otherwise there will be a Senate committee hearing.”

Lex’s voice was quiet when he said, “But he can’t do that.”

His lawyer swallowed and said, “He can and he will. Lex, nobody’s playing anymore. If you don’t go along with this inquiry now, everything and I mean everything you have ever worked for will be gone.”

The big man, who was clearly enjoying watching these powerful, yet crooked individuals squirm, turned to Sheldon, he said with a smirk, “Let’s not stand on ceremony … please call me Daniel. Now, Mr. Luthor, when did your ‘business relationship’ with these criminals in the Congo begin?”

***

Early Saturday morning saw Sam and Ellen Lane in their daughter’s apartment, watching her haphazardly throwing clothes into a large suitcase.

“Princess, this makes no sense, why are you going to leave Metropolis? This is your home. Working for the Daily Planet is a huge part of your life … especially after writing that fantastic series of articles. Sam Lane said.

“To get far enough away from two-bit chiseling partners who do nothing but promise the moon and then break those promises as soon as it’s convenient.” Lois snapped as she threw a pair of black heels and a peach sundress into her suitcase and then hurried back to the closet for more. Ellen carefully folded up the garment and put the shoes into a cloth bag that had been thrown on the floor.

“Destroying your wardrobe is not helping matters, now sit down and talk with us.” Ellen said in an exasperated tone.

“Fine! But first, I need some liquid fortification.” Lois growled.
Putting down a large green and black make-up case, she stormed out of the bedroom, entered the kitchen and pulling open the fridge she removed a cold bottle of cream soda. She twisted off the cap, took a long drink and then put the bottle back in the fridge – without the cap. The soda pricked the memory of the night Superman came to ask her to help Clark. A thrilling night of unencumbered flight over Hobbs’ Bay that she had only mentioned to Catherine. A deep sigh of genuine regret escaped her lungs like a burst balloon. Where was the Man of Steel now? Most likely in the middle of a rescue in some remote part of the globe, far too busy to fly over and bid her farewell.

Sam stood in the doorway, quietly watching and waited until she returned to the bedroom, he stepped aside to allow her to re-enter and resume packing.

Lois took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “Mother, Daddy, there’s nothing to talk about. Clark Kent is still in love with his ex-girlfriend, Lana Lang-Daae. I … I saw them together at his place on Friday night.”

Ellen Lane’s composure broke somewhat. “The same one who dumped him for her wealthy Swiss husband?”

Her daughter nodded slowly, she had spent most of last night and part of the morning lamenting the loss of what could have been so much more than just a friendship. Now it was time for action; she was leaving Metropolis and starting life someplace new.

Between clenched teeth Sam growled, “I’m going to kill him. This is almost as bad as when that louse Claude DeBarre hurt you.”

“Daddy, let’s not bring that rat into the picture.” Lois snapped.

Her parents shared a look, communicating in a way only happily married couples can. Her father took the lead in encouraging her. “Claude was the worst excuse for a man I ever meet. There was something in his eyes that didn’t ring true. Clark Kent did not strike me that way. I sensed he has genuine feelings for you. We were proud of the way you fought back from that previous situation; it’s possible to do so again.

“Oh Daddy, it’s not so simple this time. I was really young and infatuated with Claude. He used charm and his good looks to make me think I was in love with him. But over the past month of our investigation of Daae I discovered Clark Kent was the man I could ever really love … the only man. You’re right; I thought he had feelings for me. But what …what am I going to do now?”

Rather than give in to another crying fit, Lois finished packing with Ellen’s able assistance. Soon, two large suitcases waited by her front door. A very angry Lady Plushbottom sat in an outrageously pink kitty carry case, watching the humans with suspicious blue eyes.

“Lois are you certain about not staying with us? It’s no trouble.” Ellen asked.

“Molly said I can stay at her place for a few days since she’s out of town on business again. On Monday, Perry and I will talk.” She bit her lower lip and said, “Maybe … maybe I could transfer to one of our sister newspapers on the West coast. Kip Terrell, editor of the San Francisco Gazette likes my work. Staying with you guys wouldn’t be right, besides Clark might want to see me and he knows where you live.”

Ellen said shaking her head in disbelief, “The West Coast? Lois, that’s on the other side of the country! I don’t understand this determination to run away. Maybe you should see him and clear the air?”

Throwing on a rust colored jacket, Lois’ face set itself into a deep frown, “There’s nothing to say. Thanks for looking after Lady P.”
Sam gingerly picked up the carry case and heard a distinct throaty feline growl. “Yeah well, I hope she behaves better than the last time we cat sat! I don’t want her spending time between eating our plants and hiding under the couch!”

A mere thirty minutes after the trio’s departure, Clark knocked on Lois’ door, only to be greeted by silence. He leaned against the wall and sighed in disappointment. After last night’s final conversation with Lana, he needed to reveal everything about himself to Lois. Since it was clear, bright Saturday, this morning would be the perfect time for them to have that long put off discussion. He wanted to take her to Callard’s for brunch, but obviously Lois was out and about. Rather than stay home alone, he decided to fly to Smallville for a quick visit with Uncle Wayne.

Only a half hour later, Clark sat in the living room with his uncle on a large, comfy green couch, watching his old college team the Kansas Tornadoes battle their long-time rivals, the Iowa Cornhuskers. It was an enthusiastic and evenly balanced match, with each side scoring. The two men cheered on the Tornadoes eagerly.

While former professional football players made commentaries during the halftime game report, Clark informed Wayne about the series of DMG articles and all the positive attention they had generated among his professional peers. He also told him about the visit from H.G. Wells and the mysterious globe which explained his Kryptonian origins and that culture’s vast history and customs which were so different from Earth. With sober tones he related point for point both of the unexpected conversations he had had with Lana and how the second one was definitely the last. He finished by glowingly describing how close he and Lois had become and his hopes to make their relationship more than a working one.

“I … I decided to tell Lois everything about me. There’s no longer any reason to keep any secrets between us. She is the one I want to share my life with.”

Wayne had listened to all these revelations in stunned, yet respectful silence, never interrupting. Over the years when it came to his nephew he had learned this was the best way to be. But at this last little ‘announcement’ he turned off the television, turned to Clark and said, “Son, do you think that’s wise?”

A curious half-smile touched Clark lips, “I do. When Lois and I first met in the newsroom, Lana was standing right by my side. But at that instant, it was as if she didn’t exist. At that very instant it felt as if the final piece of my life in Metropolis had clicked firmly into place. Don’t get me wrong. Lois and I have experienced some very difficult moments getting to know one another, but in the past year I have come to respect and cherish her friendship.”

The older man rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said with a hint of joy in his voice, “You wouldn’t be doing this just to have her as a girlfriend. So I gotta assume that once matters are settled between you, the next step will be to get engaged. Marriage is a very serious step.”

Clark nodded in agreement. “Yes, it is. But life without Lois Lane would be a hollow experience.”

“Then, you need to bring her here as soon as possible. Mary and I would like to meet the young lady.”

His nephew said with a bright smile. “Is next Sunday too soon?”

Wayne’s own smile was uncharacteristically wide, he could barely contain his relief and pleasure that this dinner was not for officially welcoming Lana Lang into the family. “Nope. Just tell us what time. But I suggest you make it early afternoon. I have no doubt that your Lois will have a lot of questions, after all, she is a reporter!”

***

Around six o’clock early Monday morning, Perry White was in his office looking over drafts from free-lancers who had e-mailed filler articles. He had been cooped up long enough, so Alice had driven him to work and dropped him off at five o’clock. With a streaming mug of coffee, he dived into work. This task was both enjoyable and yet dreadful, enjoyable because sometimes, like uncovering a gold nugget, a fresh new writing talent was discovered and dreadful because some of the articles were just that, so badly written they were a punishment to read. Nonetheless, it was one of the many things he was going to miss when the reins of editorship were officially handed over to Catherine Grant.

Janet Owens was the logical choice to become the new Managing Editor as she had been the more senior of the two and had greater experience as editor of the Science section. Were it not for Janet’s training for her reporting duties on the space station’s construction she would have gotten the position. James and the other suits originally wanted Lois Lane for the position, especially now that the DMG articles had been so well-received by those within the industry.
But oddly enough Perry had staunchly vetoed the idea, stating that Lois was young and just hitting her stride as an investigative reporter. There was much for her to learn before taking on the mantle of editor - in any capacity. He placated the suits by outlining plans for Lois and Clark: they would work together and each would have their own weekly column. A column, whether daily or weekly was a challenge, yet he was certain if anyone could handle the pressure, this duo would be up for it.

The phone rang and he picked it up on the second ring, “Perry White speaking.”

<<Morning Perry. Bill Henderson here. Just wanted to let you know, both Lex Luthor and Gregory Daae were questioned over the weekend and after not a little political wrestling have been arrested.>>

Dumbfounded, Perry gave a long whistle, low and sweet. Then he shouted. “Great day in the morning! What are the charges?”

The laconic detective gave out a rare chuckle that sounded more like a wheezy growl. <<Too numerous to go into over the phone, but the main ones are international racketeering and illegal stock manipulation respectively. The trials will be spectacular! The television media doesn’t know anything about this, as the guys with the higher pay grades wanted to keep it quiet until this morning. I thought it would be fun to give you the heads up and have LaneKent cover the whole trail, seeing as they cracked open this can of worms to begin with. They were actually arraigned here. I got to fingerprint Luthor. The look on his face was priceless!>> Bill said with just the right touch of pride and a little glee.

Perry was mentally rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation.

“As soon as they came in I’ll send them down to the station house. Thanks Bill!” The two men exchanged farewells and ended the conversation.

With that startlingly bit of news, the quiet morning and his musings were at an end. Perry went back to looking at the filler articles, he needed to finish up and be ready to leave promptly at noon as per the doctor’s – and Alice’s – orders. He looked up at the sound of his office door opening and Lois walked in. No. No walking would have meant she had a spine and greater self esteem. The woman standing before him was a stranger, she wore faded jeans, a simply cut cream sweater set not all the usual professional attire he insisted on for bullpen staffers. Still there was something else; her slightly dazed expression was liken to an experienced heavyweight prize fighter who had been soundly beaten by a unseasoned rookie. Almost too punch drunk from shock of the unexpected defeat to hold up his own weight. Even her slick, long brown hair normally so shiny and well groomed was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stood in front of his desk and held out a plain white envelope. Written on top in bold black letters was his name.

He took the envelope in his hand, but refused to open it. “What in Sam Hill is this?”

She huffed out the painful words, “My resignation. Effective immediately. I thought about transferring to one of our sister newspapers. I like San Francisco, but a clean break is better … no necessary.”

Perry eyes grew wide and he wanted to stand and lead Lois over to the plaid couch, but as he tried he remembered those stupid crutches. Instead he said with deep concern etched in the tone of his voice. “Lois, honey, sit down and tell me what brought this on?”

For the next fifteen minutes, Lois told her boss, friend and second father everything about her relationship with Clark and what she had seen between him and Lana Lang-Daae on Friday evening.

Once Lois finished speaking, silence hung in the office like a cloud, while Perry thought furiously. Finally he said, “Leaving the Daily Planet is out of the question. As a matter of fact, something crossed my desk yesterday that might be a perfect answer to the situation. Our bureau in London needs an investigator over there with your seasoning. Since Eduardo quit, Labby Rathbone has never found a suitable replacement. Hell, I’ll tell everyone you are on the heels of another hot story. Meanwhile, go to London, work with Labbie, write up a few stories and think matters through.”

Rubbing her chin in contemplation, she than nodded and said in a listless voice, “Funny, Eduardo sent me an e-mail on Friday, inviting me to visit. I’ll call him from the airport. All right, we can say I’m following on the trail of one of his old cases. What about Clark? He’s going to ask a lot of questions.”

The angry words rolled over his tongue and across taunt lips like an avalanche. “I’ll take care of him.”

Despite her anger at Clark, Lois felt a shiver of fear and concern for her former partner. The last time she had heard Perry use that tone of voice he was firing Claude DeBarre. “Perry, don’t bother with him … he’s not worth it. I have no doubt that once everyone discovers about him and Lana, his creditability both as a man and a reporter will disappear.”

She stood to leave. “I’m going to collect my bags and head over to the airport.” She glanced at her watch and said, “Can the travel department have my reservations and tickets ready for a noon flight?”
He nodded. “Everything will be waiting for you at Alieanor Airlines courtesy desk.”

“Perry, this is so generous, I can’t thank you enough.” She got up from the couch and leaned down to give him an awkward hug.

He said hoarsely. “Don’t let his betrayal force you out of town. Come back to us darlin’. The ol’ bullpen won’t be the same without you!”

Lois answered with a tremulous smile. How could she explain to this gentle bear of a man that perhaps this time she had no more strength to fight back? She gave him a peck on the cheek, picked up the backpack, pulled out a blue Metros baseball cap and dropped it on her head. Then, without a backwards glance opened the door and walked out, shutting it softly, but firmly behind her. It was a good thing too; otherwise she would have seen a solitary tear flow down the old newshound’s face.

“Clark Kent does not deserve that woman’s loyalty.” Perry ground the words out between clenched teeth. “Don’t know how, but I’m going to make sure he leaves this newspaper real quick!" He spent a few minutes remembering Lois as a young intern, her first big story and the day Jack almost got killed. Through it all, she was strong and determined. Now all that seemed to have drained away, leaving only a thin shell. Maybe a fantastic story would fall into her lap when she got to London and it might just take her mind off Kent. It was then he remembered about the arrests, but by that time, Lois was out of sight.

***

Lois walked through the Bullpen, stopping briefly at her desk, it would remain untouched for awhile and then if the transfer was permanent, someone – possibly Stacy if she was still here – would box everything up and ship it to London. While in London she could spend some time with Eduardo and Samantha. Apparently from his e-mails, the former globe-trotting journalist had settled into his new married life seamlessly. Love, it seemed was for everyone except her.

Impulsively, she opened the drawer and removed her press pass, no harm in taking a little piece of The Daily Planet along for this new adventure.

“Steady Lois. Time to leave before anyone else walks off the elevator, they are bound to ask a lot of questions I don’t want to answer.” She muttered softly.

She climbed the ramp, pushed the button and waited in front of the elevator as it silently moved upstairs. Odd thing, ever since Perry’s threat to have the machine replaced, it had been quick, efficient and most of all … noiseless.

As soon as it stopped and the doors opened, Catherine stepped out, wearing a brilliant smile. Upon seeing her friend, the tall auburn haired beauty spoke with an exasperated tone. “Lois! Where have you been all weekend? I tried to call several times! Finally I went over to your apartment, even that noisy furball Lady Plushbottom didn’t respond to my knocking. I have great news!”

Lois amused by such an outpouring of emotion from the normally composed Catherine that all her own musings were forgotten and asked. “What news?”

In way of response, Catherine took her friend’s arm and dragged her into the same conference room where only days before the DMG articles had been put together. She shut the door and smiled with such delicious happiness at Lois that she felt swept along in the older woman’s joy.

Catherine clasped her hands together and spoke, “First business; Perry has asked me to become the Managing Editor and I accepted.”

“What!” The word exploded from Lois’ lips, the thought of Perry White not being at the helm of the newsroom was something she had never imagined. “When did this happen?”

“I was called into a meeting with Perry, Alice and Mitch. That’s the real reason why Alice and Perry came down here on Friday, to let James know and to offer the position to me. There will be a transition period of course, but I won’t officially take over until January 30th.”

“Why wait so long?” Lois asked her expression one of absolute puzzlement.

“Because Arthur and I won’t be returning from Fiji until January 25th.” Catherine said with a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes.
Outright bewildered Lois asked, “Fiji?”

Catherine extended her left hand, on her ring finger, set in platinum, was a emerald cut two-carat diamond, its multiple facets sparkled and shimmered, creating a striking presentation. The words flowed from her lips like a cascade of water. “He gave it to me during dinner on Friday night. I didn’t want an engagement ring, but he was so sweet when he proposed. How could I refuse? I’ll probably wear a diamond band afterwards. We plan on getting married on his yacht, the Dejah Thoris[i/], in Aruba on January 5th than sailing to Fiji from there. I couldn’t juggle being trained as Managing Editor [i]and planning a wedding at the same time!”

This morning was proving to be one full of changes and surprises, regardless of wanting to leave before Clark showed up, she was happy for her friend and quite curious to hear more about Catherine’s fantasy wedding plans.

Catherine continued, “We are only having twenty people. Of course you are invited! I fully expect Clark to be your date. After seeing how he kept looking at you during the Age of Napoleon event – before everything happened – it is impossible to imagine anyone else by your side.

The achingly sweet, yet searing memory of a dashingly handsome Clark in his black tuxedo was more than Lois could bear. “Clark and … I” Her voice trailed off.

For the first time Catherine noticed Lois was wearing old jeans, a sweater set and baseball cap, not something allowed by Perry for the daytime newsroom staff. She also saw the leather and canvas backpack slung over her friend’s slender shoulders, not the ever present camel-colored briefcase. Like silver waters descending down a window on a rainy day, the joy which had previously colored her mood slid away, replaced by deep concern. With tender care she placed both hands on Lois’ shoulders and gently asked, “What’s going on? Why are you dressed this way?”

“It’s a long, sad story and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m leaving Metropolis today for London. Perry thinks it’s temporary. My partnership with Clark Kent is over. He …he’s seeing Lana again.” Water filled into Lois’ eyes, and with a blink, salty tears spilled effortless down her cheeks and splashed onto the floor.

Although completely taken aback by this confession, Catherine wanted to ask more questions, but then looking up at the clock, realized Lois had to leave the newsroom before anyone else arrived. No way could she allow her friend to be seen like this. Without uttering a word, she wrapped a protective arm around Lois’ shoulder and led her out the conference room and unseen by Perry; quietly they made their way to the back staircase.

***

It was nearly 10:30 before Clark arrived at the bullpen; he ran down the ramp, reached his desk and quickly started his computer. From his jacket pocket, he removed a small spiral notepad, flipped to a page and studied it carefully. He didn’t really need to consult his notes; he had remembered every quote from Inspector Henderson and the arresting officers. He had just come from Hobbs’ Bay, some rather desperate characters had tried to hijack a shipment of Industrial diamonds from Mongolia. Now it was time to write up the account for the evening edition.

Looking over at Lois’ desk he saw that her desk was empty, except for the neat little African violet plant, in its azure and white container.

This was wrong. Why was his partner’s desk cleared?

He saw Steve coming over, an expression of confusion on his face when he saw the desk. “Hey, where’s Lois?”

“I was about to ask the same question. We haven’t spoken since Friday evening.”

Diane looked up, Perry said something about a big assignment in London. Wow, that woman doesn’t let the grass grow under her feet. The DMG articles are generating Pulitzer buzz and she’s off to bag another big story!”

“Assignment? What assignment?” Clark asked, now completely confused.

“Hey Big guy, if you don’t know, it must be hush-hush!” Diane said. “Maybe ask the Chief?”

Clark smoothed down his tie and then said. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” As he moved towards the Senior Editor’s office, he wondered what reason Perry could have to for sending her on assignment to London. Why would she be willing to go, knowing just how much was unsettled between them? What if this assignment had an element of danger?

He entered the office without knocking and said. “Perry, where is Lois?” His heart thumped wildly in anticipation of the answer.

The older man looked at Clark as if he were a particularly nasty insect and bit out the words. “She came in here this morning to resign. I couldn’t let her throw away such a promising journalistic career, so I arranged a temporary transfer to our London office …. I hated to lose her completely. James Olsen and the suits upstairs are throwing three kinds of fits.”

Before Clark could respond, Catherine entered the office, also without knocking.

“Catherine where have you been? Diane had to write up the story of Lex Luthor’s and Gregory Daae’s arrest!”

“Ha! That’s old news! My source in the LexCorp building says Agent Dan Scardino has returned Luthor made bail. His lawyer – that toad Bender – says arresting a man in his ‘weakened’ physical condition is cruel!”

“What? Great day in the morning! Catherine, get over there! Take Kent with you!”

Hearing such news of the arrests was a welcome surprise, but it was not as important as finding out Lois’ whereabouts. “Wait a minute; I’m not going anywhere until I know what happened to Lois!”

Perry shifted his attention towards Clark; again there was the unpleasant look. “That’s not your concern; if you don’t leave with Catherine right now you’re fired!”

Clark’s eyes grew wide with shock. “What … what did you say?”
Heedless of the discomfort, Perry stood up and placing his hands on the edge of the desk, leaned on them and said in a tightly controlled voice. “You. Heard. Me. Now get out of here!”

Catherine, although she was loathed to touch him, laid her hand on Clark’s shoulder, “Come on. We need to leave.”

They moved quickly out of the office, into the stunned silence of the bullpen.

He turned to Catherine for some kind of an explanation, only to read the same look of disgust on her expression. “Did I miss something? What’s going on around here?”

“I don’t know, you’re an investigative reporter. You tell me!” She hissed.

At this point, Clark was totally confused; he took a deep, cleansing breath and said. “We need to talk. Come on, let’s go to LNN.”
Green eyes stared at him with an almost laser-like intensity, if Catherine had possessed heat vision, he would be a muddled pile of bone and plasma. “The only reason I’m going with you is because Perry told me to.” With those words, Catherine stalked over to her desk, grabbed her handbag and walked past him up the ramp.

At this point the newsroom occupants were also in shock. First Lois disappears on a top-secret assignment, then Perry threatened to fire Clark and to top it all off, Catherine Grant, doesn’t want to work with him.

***
The atmosphere in the elevator was cramped and tense; neither occupant looked at the other. Clark was still confused and deeply hurt by Perry’s behavior. Making up his mind to get the answers he needed, Clark stopped the elevator and turned to Catherine. “Why are you and Perry so angry? What’s this about Lois wanting to resign?”

Catherine looked up at him and snapped, “As if you care!” His eyes narrowed angrily behind the wire-rimmed frames, taking Catherine’s measure. They must suspect him of some terrible deed for both her and Perry to be so angry. It could not be the secret could it? No, he was fairly certain they would not be treating him like this if they knew he was Superman.

Slowly, he took in a calming breath and said, “You better than anyone besides Perry know how I feel about Lois. This entire weekend I have tried to talk with her. Especially after my conversation with Lana at my place on Friday night.”

“That’s exactly why Lois is leaving! She saw you hugging Mrs. Daae!”

Startled by this revelation Clark blinked and said, “Lois was there? She saw Lana and me together?”

Instead of answering, she said. “How could you take back a woman who caused you so much pain? Now Lana’s forcing Lois to leave New Troy, she can’t be expected to watch the two of you together! I… I could have prevented this by telling you she was dating Daae, but I decided to wait until her return …”

“You knew about Lana?” Clark said in shock.

Quickly Catherine described how Lana’s relationship with Daae was revealed with each word uttered, the anger at Clark leaked away, leaving only acute embarrassment.

“Listen Catherine, that’s not how it was. On Friday night Lana came to my apartment in order to escape the media and have it out with me. I told her something which perhaps made her realize just how heartless her behavior was. She started to cry and we hugged. After that she left and I noticed the door was open.” He squeezed his eyes shut upon remembering the front door had been open the entire time. “Oh no! Lois probably only saw us hugging and didn’t see or hear the rest. She told you and Perry what happened, didn’t she?”

“Yes, very early this morning. I caught her only a minute after she left Perry’s office. I have not seen him this angry since he fired Claude.” Catherine groaned with the realization that her friend was innocent of any wrong doing. “Thank goodness you aren’t going back to Lana! But Lois was devastated! She really thinks you are still in love with that two-timing harpy! Oh, this situation is so confusing not even Superman can fix it!”

Clark’s voice was suddenly gentle, he placed a consoling hand on her shoulder and said, “We can worry about apologizes later. Please, if you know, tell me where Lois is.”

“I drove her to the Airport. She’s taking the noon flight to London on Alieanor Airlines.”

With a push of the button the Elevator kicked back into life and quickly descended to the lobby. As the door opened, Clark said. “I have to stop her before she gets on that plane thinking I betrayed her.”

Catherine said, “But what about the story?”

He looked at her with a flash of steel in his eyes. “Without Lois in my life there’s no reason for me to work at the Daily Planet.” With those words he exited the building and ran down the street, loosening his tie as he went.

He didn’t see it, but his statement brought a bright smile to Catherine’s lips. She really hadn’t misjudged him after all.

***

Earlier that morning, a dark blue sedan drove up to the departure lanes of Alieanor Airlines, a striking woman in her late thirties stepped out of the driver’s side and opened up the trunk and with little effort, removed a large suitcase. Her companion, a younger woman pulled out the second, somewhat smaller case with equal ease, but a sense of sadness draped itself over her like a cloak.
Catherine rolled the heavier bag over to Lois and said, “Are you certain I don’t have to park? It’s no problem.”

“No, it’s bad enough you’re going to be late. I can take it from here.”

The two women hugged each other tightly and a solitary tear moved down Catherine’s cheek. “Thanks to you and Constance, I got a chance to interview Arthur, that led to a friendship and now we’re getting married.”

“Arthur’s getting a good wife and a best friend. Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I’ll be your Maid of Honor.”

“You better be Lane! Otherwise I’ll have to fly over the pond myself to get you! Now don’t forget, the cabbies in London are very professional, unlike Metro cabbies. Treat them nicely and they’ll be good to you!”

“Thanks Cat. I’ll remember.”

Catherine very uncharacteristically rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t call me that! Just think, if it sticks, after Arthur and I get married, everyone will call me Cat Chow! Not very professional!”

For the first time in three days, Lois burst out laughing. “Okay, you have yourself a deal.”

“Well, if it got you to smile, maybe this once it was worth it.” They hugged again and then Catherine got back into her car and drove away.

Lois watched the car as it moved into traffic and eventually disappeared, taking the last vestiges of her old life with it.

An hour later Lois sat on a cold, black plastic chair, interconnected with several others waiting at Gate 31 for Flight 1077 on Alieanor Airlines to London. There had been a few changes since the aborted trip to the Congo. The waiting area had seating alcoves with comfortable benches surrounded by small trees, real ones not plastic. There were also several big containers of dieffenbachia, the large green and white leaves were colorful and gave life to the space. These plants were similar to the ones on Clark’s balcony. Gazing at them reminded her of that pleasurable evening they spent picking out plants at Charles Greenhouse for his apartment. She sighed and decided the privacy alcoves were definitely not for her.

Her suitcases had been checked in and now it was a matter of patiently waiting thirty minutes before the boarding call. A progressive trickle of passengers walked by and began taking their seats. Two elegantly suited women across from her were talking intensely about an important project at their company. A large woman in a tight, short black dress studied her heavily made up face in a mirror. Her fingernails were long and painted a vivid shade of pink. A middle-aged man wearing pressed jeans and a denim shirt sat down next to her and talked on the phone with either his girlfriend or wife in the soothing tones of a lover. All of these people politely ignored each other and Lois’ presence.

Funny how life had gone full circle; long months ago in this same airport she was determined to make an indelible mark as a journalist by exposing a gun runners’ operation in the Congo. Now with the help of an incredible group of dedicated experts, she had indeed written a series of articles which had brought her fame and accolades within her profession. Without such a support, none of this would have ever seen the light of day.

But once again her personal life was not as it should be. Unlike the previously planned trip, the desire to fight back was absent.

There was no way to sugar coat matters, she was running away.

Considering the circumstances, how could she be expected to work in the same city – much less in the same newsroom – with a man who was willing to take back a woman who had betrayed him on such a spectacular scale? A man she had fought furiously to bring back into that newsroom. Maybe if her feelings, passionate feelings were not involved she could have shrugged the messy situation off with a smile and continue working with Clark. But no one would be fooled, as hard as she had worked to bury those feelings deep inside, she loved him.

In an attempt to distract her mind from such a well-worn path, she looked over to Gate 32; passengers were milling about wearing pastel t-shirts, straw hats and sandals, suggesting they were headed for Florida or perhaps the island nation of Hawaii. A funny little man dressed in old-fashioned clothing and a black bowler hat were among them, the dark clothes stood out in stark contrast to those around him. He was reading a newspaper carefully perusing each page over antique eyeglasses as if looking for a particular article of interest. The man looked up and before Lois could turn her head, locked his eyes with hers. Completely embarrassed, she wanted to turn away, yet could not. The older gentleman smiled warmly at and in the courtly fashion from another era, tipped his hat.

Any discomfort Lois felt melted away in the presence of such refined manners. For the first time since Friday night, the tension slid from between her tight neck and shoulders. Suddenly like a cascade of silver rain, long forgotten memories clicked neatly into place in her mind. She had encountered this man previously, had seen him reading a newspaper in this same airport, only than it had been in the frigid depths of winter, not early autumn. He had given her a copy of the Metropolis Star, and immediately had discovered Linda King’s scooping the Congo gun runner’s story only seconds later she was on the phone with her former rival as she gloated over the article.

With her mind’s eye Lois could clearly see herself walking back to the ticket counter and passing a man wearing light weight grey clothes, totally unsuitable for winter.

It was Clark. What was he doing there at that time?

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion; somehow, this short weirdo in the bowler hat was the key to everything. She wanted to ask him several questions, but upon looking up, discovered her quarry had vanished and in his place stood her former partner. A massive glacier spread a tidal wave of bitter cold through her tightly knotted stomach.

Like a wash of heated anger trying to combat the cold, again the words came unbidden to mind: What the Hell was he doing here?

She stood up straight as an arrow, picked up her backpack and walked away.

Clark’s heartbeat faltered. The object of his pursuit had turned away as if he did not exist. After his conversation with Catherine he had flown straight to Larkin Airport to keep her from boarding the plane to London. Lois’ appearance had shocked him; he had seen her in many guises; such as the reporter in keen pursuit of a story wearing business suits more like battle armor or in jeans and a sweatshirt during the carefree evenings when they cooked together.

But this was a different Lois. Yes, she wore jeans, but the demeanor and body posture was all wrong, one of resignation and dare he even think it … hopelessness? The last time he was in Larkin Airport it was to save her from certain death at the hands of gunrunners in the Congo. This time it was to save both of them from losing each other and living separate lonely lives.

“Lois! Wait!”

Ignoring him she continued walking and passed a convenience store, its racks of newspapers and colorful magazines stood out front. But her eye caught the morning edition of the Daily Planet, its bold headline blaring:

Lex Luthor and Gregory Daae arrested!
By Diane Pallister


She stopped, Diane had written this story? I should be angry, but compared to my ruined relationship with Clark; I need to be proud of Diane for writing this story. After all that was the goal wasn’t it? Making Daae pay for his crimes and making sure the whole world knew it? Dan Scardino hauling in Lex Luthor was a bonus. Luka would have been pleased. Apparently over the weekend while she was packing and crying someone else had written the final chapter to the DMG series. Now her life truly had gone full-circle. This time, a friend, not a rival had broken the story.

“Lois?” Clark’s voice sounded in equal parts fearful and questioning. “We have to talk about Friday night.”

Whirling about, angry words erupted from the depths of a stricken throat. Her former partner stood six feet away. “Stay away from me! There’s nothing to say. Lana wins. I’m going to work in London. It’s not far enough away from you, but it’s a start!”

Clark stuck both hands in his pants pockets and looked down at the floor. “Catherine told me you came to my apartment on Friday night. I can’t deny that you saw me holding Lana, but it wasn’t what it looked like.”

Not believing him she snapped back, “Oh yeah? You two looked awfully cozy!”

“Lana came to hide from the reporters who were hounding her. She and Daae were planning on returning to Zurich.”

Pointing to the newspaper, Lois said. “It doesn’t look like they will be going back to their life in Switzerland.”

In the face of the serious of their discussion, Clark couldn’t help smiling and said, “I’ll bet Diane did a fantastic job on that article. But it would have been very satisfying for us to have written it… together.”

She nodded thoughtfully, “Yes, it would have been. Clark, I’m mentally and emotionally worn out, tell me what did I really see?”

“Months ago I purchased an engagement ring before she returned from Switzerland and hearing that bit of news made her cry. Because maybe, just maybe it finally dawned on her the cost of marrying Gregory Daae.”

Lois took a step towards him and said, “Seeing you kiss Antonia Taylor that time when we were investigating her and the Toasters was bad enough, but this …” She shook her head, still in disbelief. “I was going to cook a fantastic gourmet dinner for us to enjoy using the herbs from your ‘kitchen’ garden container.”

He took two steps towards her, and responded. “With your cooking skills and those herbs, that is one meal I would have savored. Listen, don’t you get it? I want Lois Lane in my life, not Lana Lang-Daae. I told her we should have ended our relationship before I got on the plane to Metropolis. It’s obvious to me now that even than we were moving in conflicting directions. Sadly, I let our childhood memories of home cloud my thinking. As soon as she was gone, I called your place. But there was no answer and like a fool I didn’t leave a message.”

She moved closer. “Why not?”

“It was Friday night; I figured you were out with Lucy, Molly and Detective Ann Reed.”

She took another step forward. The harshness completely gone from her voice. “No. After leaving your building, I sat in the Jeep for awhile, gathering my thoughts, trying to imagine how to survive life without you.”

He shook his head sadly, “I should have walked over there, instead of calling. I went over to your apartment on Saturday morning figuring we could have gone to brunch at Café Americana.”

Her eyes grew wide, realizing how bad their timing had been. “You must have just missed me. I was with my parents, they … they helped me pack up a few things.”

He took a step closer. “Honey, no more delays, we have to talk – now. Our lives and future happiness depends on it.”

Lois was close enough now that she could easily reach out and touch his face. Passersby looked at the attractive couple and assumed they were lovers ready to depart on some fantasy vacation, but not yet, not yet.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the maelstrom of emotions so intense they threatened to give her a fierce migraine, but so many good memories outweighed the negative.

As if from a distance his voice caressed her ears and like a potion of scented oils soothed an anguished heart. “Lois. Walk with me. Please?” He offered his arm and slowly she took it. They walked towards one of the privacy alcoves, the very one that reminded her of his balcony and sat down. Despite being sitting in a vast international airport, surrounded by throngs of people moving about, in that tiny alcove, Lois felt as if it was just the two of them.

She let the backpack slide to the floor between her feet and said. “I want a future with you, but a relationship has to be built on trust. We have both been hurt so badly by selfish people more interested in their own agendas than worrying about trampling on the feelings of others.”

Continue reading Part 32B

Last edited by Morgana; 01/01/17 06:41 AM. Reason: Modifications

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.