Previously - Chapter 17 ***
Chapter 17 ***
Clark’s focus was shot the rest of his morning at the paper. He’d relived the moment when he’d seen her over and over until he couldn’t even be sure that it was Lois he’d seen. Just the
idea of her being here filled him with apprehension. He must have imagined it, hoped he imagined it. That must be it. He had been so stressed about his conversation with Lana that he
imagined Lois. Plenty of other people in the world had dark hair and rich eyes … and stood watching him from a distance.
Clark groaned and pushed himself back from his desk.
It was time for lunch. A walk would do him good. Food in his stomach would help as well.
The short walk to Shiloh Bar and Grill did little to relax him, but the aromas wafting to him and the live music promised an environment that would lift his spirits if only temporarily. He chose a seat at the bar and ordered the steak and fries. If only they served buttermilk with it.
The band playing during this lunch shift performing their own over dramatized renditions of popular songs was mildly distracting, providing Clark with a very small sense of accomplishment in choosing well where to eat lunch. He couldn’t stifle the laugh when the lead singer began singing a fast and catchy song in the style of blues, accentuating the uplifting words with a tone filled with anguish that did not match in the least.
Focusing on the music, he was able to relax by the time his lunch arrived. As the waitress placed his food in front of him, the band switched to something jazzy. He thought he recognized the song as one his parents had listened to but couldn’t quite place it. As he took a bite of food, he allowed his foot to tap in time as the words finally came to him.
Nat King Cole.
“
You,” a voice he’d recognize anywhere began, “
stepped out of a dream.”
His mouth suddenly went dry, making it difficult to continue chewing. She really had stepped out of a dream.
“
You are too wonderful,” the voice continued, “
to be what you seem.”
Reaching for his drink with one hand and napkin with the other, he attempted to swallow before choking on his food. He thought his heart would stop. There wasn’t enough time or circumstances that would ever pass to make him forget that voice.
“
Could there be eyes like yours?”
He felt the blood drain from his face as he looked over his shoulder to see her standing with the band. She was looking straight at him. There was no mistaking it now. Lois Lane was right there.
“
Could there be lips like yours?”
He thought to leave. He had to get out of the suffocating restaurant. No longer caring about his lunch, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, fished for the cash as quickly as his fingers would let him, which was not fast enough, and threw the cash on the counter.
“
Could there be smiles like yours,” she sang. “
honest and truly?”
Making his way to the door to leave, he chanced another glance in her direction.
“
You,” she sang again, looking straight at him, “
stepped out of a cloud.”
It was a mistake to look at her. A smile on her lips and a question in her eyes, she had her sights trained on him while she moved with music. It sent chills through him and he turned to make his getaway.
Once out of the building, he took a few breaths before deciding which way he would go. Applause drifted to his ears and when it suddenly increased in volume, he glanced over his shoulder to see Lois coming out of the restaurant. Before she could spot him, he took off running and ducked around the corner of the building directly behind the restaurant.
Lois.
It
had been her that he saw. What was she doing
here?
As much as he wanted to know the answers to those questions, the need to get away from her was far more powerful. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
***
Clark was fast. Once outside the restaurant, she knew there would be no sign of him. Lois had no way of knowing which way he’d gone, but at least this time she wasn’t surprised to see him flee as fast as possible.
That must not have been the right song.
Scott came out of the restaurant as she was searching for a sign of Clark and stopped beside her.
“He’s gone,” she said in disbelief. “I thought you said his powers were disabled?”
“They were…are.” Scott looked around. “He’s probably just hiding somewhere. Come on, we’ll walk toward the paper.”
The unusually warm, for January at least, weather made the trek through town more enjoyable. With so many out taking advantage of the almost comfortable temperatures, Lois was kept busy scanning the faces for Clark but did not see him.
He was not at the paper when they arrived either. Once they knew he covered local government issues, they headed toward a place where Clark might be found covering some happenings. County offices were in buildings just a few blocks away with municipal offices a block to the right. A small park, not unlike the one in front of Metropolis’s court house, surrounded the lone columns of the original courthouse and was at the center of these government buildings.
The park boasted an amphitheater where a band, if a saxophonist and a drummer could be called a band, was playing with a microphone for the sax connected to one large speaker. Lois and Scott meandered on the pathways, listening to the music as the musicians collected tips until Lois spotted Clark walking from the street corner toward the courthouse.
“Looks like he’s coming this way,” Scott said. He motioned his head toward the band and raised his eyebrows at Lois.
She nodded, sidled up next to the saxophone player, and then stole the mic.
“Hey! Don’t-” the saxophone player started. Lois aimed a pleading look in his direction and held the mic up to her mouth.
At the saxophonist’s questioning look, she took a chance. “
What a day this has been,” she sang a cappella, looking around. She’d lost track of Clark and scanned the area for any sign of him as she sung a little bit more. “
What a rare mood I’m in.”
She turned to see a smile spread across the saxophonist’s face as he surely recognized the song and began playing with her. She smiled back at him and continued singing. “
Why, it's almost like bein’ in love.” The drummer picked up the beat and the three continued the impromptu song.
“
There’s a smile on my face, for the whole human race. Why, it’s almost like bein’ in love.”
Lois looked up just in time to see Clark standing motionless a good fifty yards away from her in front of the courthouse, frozen mid step. His head was still lowered but she could see his eyes looking directly at her, his face expressionless. She nodded in his direction as she continued the song. And when he didn’t immediately make a run for it, she waved.
But this clearly wasn’t the song either. As soon as her hand went up, he shook his head and took a step back, turning toward the courthouse and going inside.
Her voice cracked as she continued the happy words of the song.
She ached to speak to him, to tell him what was happening, what had happened. To place her hand on his arm. To take his fear of her away. To kiss him.
She could have followed him then - her press credentials would have gotten her inside - but she chose to let him go for a bit. Clark wouldn’t allow her closer at this moment. She would have to wait for another chance. One in which his odds of getting away were smaller.
***
Clark sat on a bench in some hallway of the basement of the courthouse, hiding. Worried Lois would follow him in, he’d followed the twisted maze of hallways until he wasn’t sure he would be able to find his way out. Now he waited, afraid to leave for fear of running into her. After that third run-in with her, he was certain she was following him. But why?
Her voice had been like honey, sweet and smooth, and it made him want to gag the way it coated his throat. It was not enough that he lost his job and struggled to keep one ever since. She felt some unconscionable need to torment him further. It wouldn’t surprise him to know she was trying to exact revenge, though why she’d waited more than two years to do so was anyone’s guess.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, seeing her again, confusion on her face. Why had she seemed distressed? Was his response not enough for her? Was she looking for him to be destroyed? Sad that he’d run away instead of allowing her to castigate him in front of an audience?
Three times he’d run into her today. Two of the times she had sung. The songs were stuck in his head and with it, her face. He’d tried every trick in the book to purge them from his mind. He wondered if some pathetically desperate part of him wanted to remember her. Wanted to pretend that she had been singing
to him.
He let out a harsh laugh directed at himself and shook his head. Checking the time, he realized it was getting late. He needed to head back to his desk at the paper to drop off a few things before heading home for the evening to get ready for Lana to return.
Coward. He was. He was a grown man allowing this fanatical woman to control his life from afar. [/i]No more[/i], he thought, rising from his seat and winding back through the labyrinth that was the courthouse basement.
Taking the steps two at a time, he reached the lobby and cautiously peered through the windows before venturing outside. It was late in the afternoon and the sidewalks were less crowded. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and walked resolutely down the street to the paper.
He could do this. No need to be afraid.
He opened the front door to the paper, striding in with determination. He hadn’t made it more than two steps in before he heard yet another song from the velvet voice he had refused to let control him.
“
L is for the way you look at me,” she sang.
He tried not to respond in any way, focusing instead on the second set of doors.
“
O is for the only one I see.”
He resisted the urge to glance at her, afraid of what he would see. But he still wondered … Was she singing to him? He shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief as he caught the eye of the security guard, Will, standing near that alluring second set of doors. Giving a quick nod and look that sent the message he intended, he continued undeterred.
“
V is very, very extra-ordinary,” she sang as he crossed through those blessed doors.
“Excuse me, miss,” he heard Will stop her. “You can’t go in there.”
The rest of the conversation was cut from his hearing by the closing of the door. Clark didn’t stick around to see what happened but went straight to his desk to collect his things. He headed out the back door and straight home to await Lana’s arrival.
He prayed Lana would be willing to listen and maybe even help. He also prayed she wouldn’t be offended when she learned who was now following him around.
***
Lex popped the cap free from the glass bottle of imported mineral water and carefully poured the thirst-quenching liquid into the tumbler before adding a slice of lime. He took a sip and then slowly swirled the refreshing fluid as he allowed himself to relax into the seat. Peering past the droplets of rain streaking across the window, he tried to enjoy the scenery as much as could be expected given the weather.
The pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof of the car provided a relaxing environment in which Lex could consider the situation further and determine the best course of action regarding Lois and her returning memories. He was certain she must still be confused and would surely attempt to make sense of what she now remembered. She must not want him to know and he would be happy to keep it that way. If only he understood how it had happened. Hightower’s explanation fell short of satisfying him.
After wrapping up his meeting with Hightower, he had taken care of a few other things before beginning his own journey to the chateau. The falling rain would stop them from being able to enjoy the spectacular sunset over the river, but at least he would be able to have a sense of security knowing she would be secluded from the rest of the world.
Everything he did was because he loved her.
She may not see it, but it was true regardless.
The phone rang, drawing him out of his thoughts. He took a sip of the drink he held and reached to answer.
“How is Lois settling in?” Lex asked the person on the other end of the line.
His body stiffened at the response. “Excuse me?”
He sat up straighter, irritation straining his features. “Why did you not let me know as soon as they called?” His hand tightened dangerously on the half-empty tumbler. “Your instructions were to notify me of any changes,” he nearly barked.
A crack of thunder rent through the air that matched his mood as if he controlled the weather.
He closed his eyes to stem the rising anger coursing through him. “What time did you receive the call?” he asked, his voice calmer now.
Immediately, he disconnected the call and dialed another familiar number, taking a gulp of his drink.
His blood boiled more with every unanswered ring he heard. Ferguson should have answered on the first ring, as he always had. A niggling suspicion entered his mind and Lex thought perhaps he could hazard a guess as to what had really caused Lois to regain some of her memories. Hightower would have more questions to answer if it were true.
He let out a yell of frustration and hurled the tumbler in a fit of rage before quickly reining it in, temporarily appeased by the shattering of glass. Lex squeezed the phone, pressing it to his forehead. A swift and unyielding reprisal was required. He immediately gave the driver directions to return to Metropolis before dialing another, less familiar number, preparing his next steps.
“Montgomery,” he said gruffly, “I need you to build something for me - a weapon to kill Superman.”
He listened to her exclamations and smiled as he remembered why he’d brought her to this project in the first place. “You have 24 hours.”
Her protestations induced a roll of his eyes and a twitch of his mouth.
“No, 24 hours. Make it happen,” he demanded, leaving no room for argument. He abruptly ended the call, setting the phone down as gently as he could manage. Another loud crack of thunder mirrored his frustrations.
He would not allow this opportunity to eliminate his nemesis to fail.
***
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