Lois wasn’t sure what to make of the strange currents around the breakfast table on her third morning in Smallville. She had spent the previous evening laughing and talking with Martha and Jonathan over Clark’s baby pictures, and that pleasant experience had given her reason to believe that her difficulties with Martha were more or less behind her so long as she didn’t break Clark’s heart again. At the moment it seemed that Clark might be poised to break her heart rather than the other way around. She doubted Martha knew anything about that, though, so it wouldn’t account for her near-silence as she went about her business in the kitchen. She roused herself to make some small talk as they ate breakfast and seemed to be making an attempt to be a good hostess, but Lois could tell that there was something weighing on her – and on Jonathan, too, who spent his breakfast picking at his food and staring out the window in the direction of his storage building. Granted, she’d only been there a few days, but Lois had never in that time seen Jonathan do anything less than clean his plate, and he usually went back for seconds, with Martha fussing and clucking about his blood pressure all the while.

No, there was definitely something wrong, but neither Kent seemed inclined to confide in her, so after observing just enough to assure herself that whatever the problem was, she wasn’t at the center of it, she fixed her cat’s breakfast – a vile-smelling mixture of canned and dry kitten food – and slipped out into the farmyard.

It had taken Lois several minutes to coax the cat out from under the barn the previous evening, but this morning her head popped right out when Lois called to her. Lois, encouraged, tried holding out the food to see if the cat would come close enough to take it from her, but the hungry animal just sat on her haunches and glared imperiously as she waited for the food to be put in its usual place.

Lois chuckled and complied, and then she backed away so that the cat would feel comfortable enough to eat.

“OK,” Lois said conversationally, “I won’t expect you to eat out of my hand, but I am concerned about you having your babies under the barn where no one could get to you and help you if you needed it. I know – you probably think you can handle it all yourself and don’t need anybody else, but it’s possible sometimes to be a little too independent for your own good. Trust me, I’ve been there, done that, and bought all the t-shirts. So I’m going to board up your hole while you’re out and about this morning, and I’m going to make you a nice soft bed in the barn where you can have your babies. I promise, I won’t let anyone bother you or them, but I really want to know you’re all OK.”

The cat raised her head, gave Lois a long, steady look, and then went back to eating. Lois wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that, so she took it as agreement, mostly because she liked being agreed with. Once the cat was finished eating and had started on her post-breakfast toilette, Lois collected the bowl and headed into the barn.

She knew the cat probably didn’t need or want a birthing suite in the barn, and she really didn’t even expect her to use it. The truth was, however, that Lois needed the distraction of something to do after her conversations with Clark the previous day, both of which were unsettling, if for entirely different reasons. The conversation in the tree house had left her with the fear that Clark would never be able to trust her, would never be able to believe that she had feelings for him. And of course, perverse creature that she was, his doubt only served to make her surer than ever that she did love him, had probably loved him for a long time, and had just refused to acknowledge it. She didn’t blame Clark for not being ready to believe her, but patience had never been her strong suit. Now that she’d acknowledged her feelings to herself, she was anxious to have them out in the open and, preferably, reciprocated. Her worst fear was that Clark would decide she wasn’t worth the risk and would follow through on his intention to leave Metropolis once Lex had been brought to justice. If that was still his plan, she might not have the time she needed to convince him that her love was neither the work of an impulse nor a mere transfer of her Superman crush. And worst of all, she wouldn’t have Clark – wouldn’t even have the consolation of his friendship. She wanted much more than that from him, but if that was all she could ever have, she would take it and be grateful for it. But life without Clark Kent…she wasn’t prepared for that at all.

Their conversation the night before was bothering her for an entirely different reason. Her first two days in Smallville, she’d been able to distract herself from the fact that there was an investigation going on back in Metropolis, and she wasn’t a part of it. Now, however, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Clark, Perry, Jack, Jimmy…they all were working on what could be the biggest criminal investigation – and biggest story – of the decade, and what was she doing? She was hiding out in Kansas, awaiting the birth of kittens. Since when did Lois Lane hide out? It went against every instinct. Knowing that Clark was working without her was like having an itch she couldn’t scratch, and yet she knew that her entire relationship with Clark depended on her keeping her word and staying in Kansas. It was beyond frustrating. She loved Clark and didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t want to lose herself either, and what she was doing right now simply wasn’t her.

So, filled with nervous energy and nothing else to do with it, she decided to unleash it on the poor cat. The cat would not be grateful, but Lois didn’t particularly care so long as it gave her something to do with herself that didn’t involve fretting about Clark Kent or the investigation into Lex Luthor.

It took a few minutes of rifling through the piles of things stored in the barn for her to find a wooden crate of approximately the right size and shape for her purposes. It appeared to have held produce at one time or another, and she inspected it carefully and then borrowed one of Jonathan’s hammers so that she could tap in a couple of tiny nails that were sticking out a bit. She filled the box with fresh straw, and then, after pondering it for a minute, went back into the house and up to her room to rummage through the drawer she’d explored on her first night in Smallville. She pulled out the phenomenally ugly flannel shirt she’d seen and made a sound of satisfaction.

It would do just fine.

_______________________________

“Hey farmgirl,” Clark said teasingly. “Dad put you to work?”

Lois looked up, startled, and saw Superman sitting cross-legged in the air, watching as she boarded up the hole in the foundation of the barn. She spat out the two nails she’d had clenched between her teeth and tried her best to glare at him.

“What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?”

“Hey, is it my fault you were making so much racket you didn’t hear me come in?” he said, gesturing to her hammer. “What on earth are you doing, anyway?”

“I’m boarding up a hole,” she said, as if talking to a preschooler. “Guess you city boys wouldn’t know about those kinds of things.”

Clark snorted his opinion of that. “OK, I’ll bite. Why are you boarding up a hole?”

“Because I don’t want the cat to have her kittens in there. She’s been hiding out under there, but I’ve fixed her a place in the barn so I can make sure she’s OK.”

Clark knit his brows in confusion. “I thought the barn cat was a male.”

“He is,” Lois said. “And he might even be the proud papa for all I know. But the one having kittens is the cat you brought from Metropolis a few months back.”

“Oh, no,” Clark groaned, letting his head drop into his hands. “I’d forgotten about her. Dad’s gonna kill me.”

“He’s not exactly handing out cigars,” Lois agreed. “Your mom either. I’ve been feeding her though. I guess I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“Yeah, I did, too, but she wasn’t all that grateful for my help.”

“Maybe she was happy where she was,” Lois suggested, more sharply than she’d intended. “Maybe she belongs in Metropolis.”

“She would have died if she’d stayed where she was.” It was clear from Clark’s defensive tone that he knew they weren’t just talking about the cat.

“You don’t know that,” Lois insisted. “I know you mean well, Clark, but…”

Clark lowered himself to the ground and started pacing, his red boots kicking up a cloud of dust. “You promised, Lois,” he exclaimed. “I thought you were happy here. You were laughing with my parents last night. You had a date the night before. What’s so wrong with staying here for a few days?”

“What’s wrong is that I have a job to do back in Metropolis! I have a partner there who needs me. It took me a long time to admit it, Clark, but we’re a team. We work better together than either of us does alone. I don’t hate it here in Smallville, and sometime, if we’re not busy with something work-related, I wouldn’t mind coming back and spending some time here together, but as long as you’re investigating Lex, I should be in Metropolis helping you.”

“Luthor is stalking you!” Clark practically shouted. “You’re not safe in Metropolis. Yes, we usually make a great team, but not on this investigation. You promised, Lois. Just last night, you said you’d stay here.”

“What about the next time?” she asked. “What about the next time an investigation gets dangerous? Are you going to pack me off to Smallville again? Are you going to play the Superman card every single time, Clark? Because that’s not a partnership, and you should know that I’m not about to stand for it.”

“No,” he said, running his hands through his hair and disarranging Superman’s neatly gelled style. “No, I don’t plan to make a habit of this. You just aren’t getting it, Lois. You’re not getting how incredibly…scary this guy is. You’ve never seen him for what he is, and I think even now you don’t really believe it – you don’t believe he could hurt you.”

“Thank you for reminding me once again of how incredibly poor my judgment has been,” she said sarcastically, picking up her nails and flouncing off toward the front of the barn. “I’m so glad you dropped by.”

“Lo-is,” he complained, striding after her. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Well, that’s sure what it sounded like. Poor dumb Lois, dated the biggest criminal in Metropolis and didn’t even realize it.”

“He’s been perfecting his act for years,” Clark soothed. “The whole city fell for it, not just you. And if I hadn’t interacted with him as Superman, I might have fallen for it, too.”

Lois put the hammer down on Jonathan’s tool bench with a clatter. “You probably don’t mean that, but thank you for saying it anyway,” she said, slightly mollified.

“It’s the truth. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Oh, please. I worked with Superman for a year and never even noticed.”

“Like Lex Luthor, I’ve been perfecting my act for years,” Clark said quietly. “Normal, boring Clark Kent. Nothing interesting about him. No reason to give him a second look. Just like you said the other night, I’ve had my whole life to practice blending in to the background. In my own way, I’m as big a con artist as Luthor. I just happen to think I’m doing it for better reasons.”

“You are,” Lois said, feeling her residual anger fade away. “You’re doing the right thing for the right reasons. Superman’s identity has to stay a secret. I’m not even mad that you kept it from me as long as you did. The only thing that bothers me is that now that I know, you’ll always think you have an excuse to keep me in the cheap seats. I can’t live like that, Clark. I can’t work like that. I don’t want to be stuck back at the office while Superman does the exciting work.”

“Lois, we don’t even have jobs right now!” Clark pointed out. “We might not even be able to be partners again. I mean, I'm not saying I don't want to, but…”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply. “Don’t pretend this is only about us working together. It’s more than that, and you know it.”

He froze like a wild animal scenting danger, and then he seemed to force himself to relax. “OK, maybe I do,” he conceded, but he couldn’t look at her as he said it. “But I still think this discussion is premature. Right now, you need to be here, and you promised me you’d stay. I need to know that I can trust you to keep your word just as much as you need to know I’m not always going to be protecting you.”

“I am keeping my word! While you chase the bad guy, I’m spending the morning building a box for kittens, for crying out loud.” She flung her arm in the direction of the cat’s box.

Clark glanced that way and then did a double take. “Lois!” he exclaimed. “That’s my shirt!”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Well…yeah. But it’s not a good one.”

He strode over and snatched it up from where Lois had arranged it over the bed of hay and then dusted it off. “Not a good one!” he repeated, obviously outraged. “It’s the best shirt I’ve ever had.”

“Are you just trying to change the subject?” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “Because no one could possibly think that was the best shirt they’d ever had. No one! And if you think you’re going to distract me…”

“Just look at it.” Clark held it up as if he were displaying a rare painting.

She folded her arms across her chest and huffed at him. “I’m looking…I’m looking…and all I’m seeing is an ugly, worn-out shirt.”

“I got this shirt in college,” he said. “It traveled the world with me.”

“Explains why you’re still single,” she noted.

“See this stain?” He pointed to a darkish splotch on the breast pocket. “That’s from the pen I wrote my first story with – the first story I ever sold, anyway. I scratched it out on the back of an envelope in a hotel in Peru.”

“Clark, are you feeling OK?”

“And this hole? Got that helping Dad string fence wire. It was at the end of my last summer at home.”

“Been flying too high? Lack of oxygen to your brain, maybe? Because that shirt is the color of vomit, and it looks like it’s been through a war.”

“No wars, but I do think I was wearing it when I helped after a terrorist bombing in Tel Aviv…and what do you mean the color of vomit? It’s green!”

“It’s puke green, Clark, and that’s the nicest color in there. The only reason I’m letting the kittens use it is that kittens are born blind.”

“You are not letting that cat have kittens on my favorite shirt,” Clark insisted.

“Why not?” she asked, snatching the shirt from him. “It’ll just be another memory to add to the collection.”

“Lois,” he protested, as she spread the shirt back over the hay and patted it down.

“Trust me, Clark. If it means you never wear this shirt again, I’m doing you a favor. Now, could we get back to the conversation we were having before you lapsed into utter insanity?”

He sighed. “The cat’s probably not even going to use that box.”

“Probably not,” Lois agreed. “I only made it because I was going out of my mind wishing I could be in Metropolis helping you.”

“No." He shook his head stubbornly. “But let me see what I can bring you to work on here. I said I would do that, and I haven’t. That’s my fault. I’ll talk to Perry this afternoon and bring you something this evening, OK?”

“It’s not the same,” she said.

“I know. And I absolutely meant it when I told you that I wished we could work together on this. I swear to you, I will be here tonight, I will tell you every single thing that happened today, and I will bring you something you can work on – something you can do to help. I promise, Lois.”

“OK,” she said, and for a moment she wondered if yielding that much authority to him would ultimately enhance her life or diminish it. In the end, she knew she couldn’t do anything else: Clark’s trust meant more to her than anything, even her career. It was a staggering thought, and one she knew she’d have to explore more fully. She loved him, however, and she suspected that he still loved her. Never having loved before, she’d never realized how life-altering an emotion it could be. She was willing to give up a little of herself, a little of her Lois Lane-ness, for Clark’s peace of mind. That was a new feeling for her. In return, Clark seemed to be recognizing that she needed to keep her hand in, needed to feel involved. For the moment, it was enough. They could haggle out the details later.

“I’ll see you tonight, then,” he said. “Probably around seven. That’ll give me time to have dinner with Perry and the others and to find out how their day went.”

“So why did you come this morning?” she asked, realizing for the first time that he’d never said.

“Uh…” To her utter amazement, Superman seemed to be blushing. “I just…had a few minutes. Thought I’d check in.”

Her heart heard the words he didn’t say, and a smile spread across her face. “I’m glad,” she said shyly. “I’m sorry we spent the whole time fighting.”

“It’s all right,” he told her, giving her a crooked smile. “I know I’m being protective, and I do have some idea of what it’s costing you to stay here.”

“And I appreciate that you want to keep me safe,” she acknowledged. “I know I’m sometimes a little…impulsive.”

Clark snorted. “Remove the adjectives and adverbs from that sentence, and you might have something close to the truth.”

“Don’t edit my confessions,” she complained, pretending to be miffed. “That’s not how this game is played. You admitted something, then I admitted something. Now it’s your turn again.” She folded her arms and gave him an expectant look.

“Nope, that’s all you’re getting out of me this morning,” Clark said with a grin. “But if you have some other flaws you’d like to admit to, I’m all ears.”

“Flaws!” She gave him a look that could have scared the paint from the walls.

“Foibles?” he tried. “Slight but charming imperfections?”

“That’s a little better,” she said grudgingly. “I like the charming part.”

He laughed. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tonight, OK?”

“Seven o’clock.”

“Seven o’clock,” he agreed. “Tell the folks I’ll see them then.”

Lois nodded and then worked up her nerve. “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“We are going to be all right, aren’t we? I mean, whatever is going on between us…” she made a sweeping gesture that took in him, her, the barn, and most of Kansas “…whatever happens…you’re not still thinking about leaving, are you?”

He looked briefly uncomfortable, and then his face softened and he gave her a half-smile. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not all that great at staying away from you.”

It wasn’t quite the answer she was hoping for, but it was enough, and without invitation, without giving a thought to whether it was what he wanted, she walked straight over and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and heaving a shuddering sigh of relief and happiness. She felt his arms come around her and hold her close, and for a few sweet seconds he relaxed into the embrace. He was solid and reassuring and so completely Clark, despite being head to toe in spandex, and she wanted to weep with the sense of homecoming she had in his arms. He had just given her the gift of time – time to make things right between them, time to work out the differences that still remained. She felt something inside her unclench at the thought.

He stepped away, then, but paused to cup her cheek lightly in one hand. “See you tonight,” he said again, but this time his voice was rough with some emotion she couldn’t quite name.

She smiled, her cheek still tingling from his touch. “See you tonight.”

_______________________________

Clark’s head was spinning as he flew back toward Metropolis. Being close to Lois always had that effect on him, truth be told, but it was even more pronounced today. When Lois had stepped into his arms, he’d felt the paltry defenses that were still erected around his heart come crashing down, and all he’d wanted out of life was to remain there forever, standing in his father’s barn holding tight to Lois Lane. He had promised himself that he would remain on his guard against her. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t fall so blindly, so foolishly again. But in the end, all she had to do was to wrap her arms around him, and all his promises came to nothing. He was just as hopelessly in love as ever, and his heart was hers to do with as she pleased. There was no defending it. No protecting it. Just a fierce hope that she’d handle it more carefully this time.

And yet, while he might be as much in love with her as ever, he sensed that things were not yet ready to be resolved between them. She had apologized for fighting with him, which had surprised him at first because they’d always fought a lot. The fact that they were squabbling over things like the use of his favorite shirt as a cat blanket – and how could she?! – represented a rather reassuring return to normalcy. Their other argument had been different, however, and apparently Lois had recognized that. It was complicated in a way that their day-to-day tussles had never been – painful and intimate and cutting to the very heart of who they were and what they could be to one another. He had fallen in love with Lois Lane at first sight, more or less, and had naively believed that the only impediment to their being together was the fact that she didn’t feel the same. Ever since their conversation in the tree house, he’d had to acknowledge that it was a lot more complicated than that.

He wanted Lois to stay safely in Kansas, and he knew he would always have that same urge to protect her, no matter what the perceived threat. Lois was right to be worried about that. At the same time, he realized that a Lois Lane wrapped in cotton wool and tucked safely away for her own good would not be the Lois Lane he’d fallen in love with. It was a paradox that threatened to fracture his heart. How could he love her and knowingly let her be in danger? How could he love her and want to change her?

He saw no resolution – or none that was comfortable for him – but he realized that she was right: that argument hadn’t just been about work or their professional partnership. They were blazing entirely new territory, territory he’d once thought he’d charge into without a backward glance. He should have known that Lois would be too cautious, too downright contentious, to let either of them make that mistake. She might love him, though even that was still up for debate, but she wasn’t about to allow herself to be swept away on a fluffy cloud of romance. Lois wouldn’t fall in love at all, come to think of it; she’d shoulder her way into it and tackle it with passion and feistiness, the same way she did everything else. As he landed in an alley near his apartment and spun back into Clark Kent, he thought wryly that life would sure be simpler if he’d been able to fall in love with some complacent farmer’s daughter, but even as he had the thought, he felt his heart rebel. His heart knew what it wanted, and what it wanted was Lois Lane.

________________________________

He was distracted from his thoughts of Lois when he returned to his apartment and found a message waiting for him from Lex Luthor. Perry, Jack, and Jimmy were all out, and even though he’d half-way been expecting the call, Clark’s heart still pounded as Luthor’s voice oozed out of the machine and seemed to infect every corner of the apartment. He wished that instead of calling Luthor back, he could simply reach into the phone and grab the man by the throat and tell him what he thought of him and what would happen if he threatened Lois in any way. But he was Clark Kent…normal, boring, myopic Clark Kent, and Clark Kent didn’t grab and threaten. Clark Kent played innocent. He grit his teeth and dialed the phone.

“This is Clark Kent returning Lex Luthor’s call,” he said when a bored-sounding receptionist answered the phone. He waited impatiently while his call was routed, and the instinctive tightening of his fist nearly cracked the phone in two when Luthor’s voice came on the line.

“Mr. Kent, thank you for returning my call,” Luthor offered smoothly.

Clark, however, wasn’t inclined to false politeness. “What do you want, Luthor?”

Luthor pretended not to notice Clark’s hostility. “I am concerned about Miss Lane. She seems to have disappeared, and I thought you might know her whereabouts.”

“I have no idea,” Clark lied. “She told me she needed to get away for a while. That’s all I know.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Kent, but I find that rather hard to believe.”

“I can’t imagine why. Lois and I no longer work together. She’s under no obligation to advise me of her plans. And if she chose not to advise you of them…well, I can only assume she had her reasons.”

There was a moment of tense silence, and Clark could easily imagine the fury that Luthor was working to get under control. “Very well, Mr. Kent. If I might ask one thing further of you?”

“What now, Luthor?”

“I’d like to speak with Superman. If you see him, would you pass along the message?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Clark said, and then he avoided the need for false pleasantries by hanging up the phone.

He looked at his watch – it was just after 10 a.m. He was supposed to try to meet with one of the Planet’s ex-board members at noon, but he had plenty of time to see Luthor first and get that distasteful chore out of the way. He expected Luthor to ask Superman the same questions he’d just asked Clark, and Clark was determined that he would meet with exactly the same results. Still, Luthor might just give something away, so it was worth accommodating his request.

With a sigh of disgust, he spun back into Superman and then launched himself out of his bedroom window and toward the LexCorp headquarters.

________________________________


Superman arrived at Luthor’s lavish penthouse office by his usual means – the balcony – and was somewhat surprised to be greeted by the billionaire’s exotic assistant, Mrs. Cox. Though she welcomed him politely, there was something about her that sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t deny her beauty, but it was like the cold elegance of a spider poised to devour her mate.

“I understood that Luthor wanted to see me,” Superman said bluntly. “Please tell him I’m waiting.”

She smiled condescendingly, as if she pitied his attempt at taking charge. “Mr. Luthor is expecting you. If you’ll just follow me this way?”

She went through the door without looking back, obviously confident that he would trail along in her wake. Though it went against his instincts to let Luthor choose the setting for their encounter, he decided it couldn’t make much difference in the end. It was all Luthor’s territory anyway, so he followed obediently behind Mrs. Cox, wondering idly if there was a Mr. Cox or if he’d long since become a post-coital snack for his wife.

She led the way down two sets of stairs and a labyrinth of corridors to a service elevator, which she directed to a sub-basement. It seemed to Clark that the descent took forever, but finally they reached the very bowels of the LexCorp building and he was once again following the imperious Mrs. Cox, this time down a narrow, dingy hallway. When she reached a heavy metal door, she rapped at it once before turning the knob.

It was a wine cellar, apparently, and Lex Luthor stood before a cask of wine, a glass held loosely in one hand. “Come in, come in,” he called heartily. “Don’t be shy.”

Clark stepped through the door, folded his arms across his chest, and gave Luthor an expectant look, though inwardly he was rolling his eyes at the billionaire’s theatrics.

“They say that civilization was invented so that men could cooperate in the making of wine,” Luthor said conversationally.

“What do you want, Luthor?” Clark snapped.

“A favor.”

Clark raised an eyebrow at him. “From me? You must be joking.”

“Hear me out,” Luthor said, smiling. “Now, you might not have suspected it of me, Superman, but I am as capable as the next man of falling in love.”

“I doubt that, Luthor. The only person you’ll ever love is yourself.”

“Ah, you see me as a narcissist, then.”

“Among other things, yes,” Clark said, not bothering to hide his contempt.

Luthor tutted sadly. “And here I thought that meeting over a glass of wine might help to cement our friendship. But I’m remiss. I haven’t offered you anything. Do you have a favorite wine, Superman?” Luthor picked up a second glass.

“Do you have a point, Luthor?”

“No wine, then.” Luthor set the extra glass aside. “My point, Superman, is that I am in love with Lois Lane. For a time, I had reason to believe that she felt the same way about me. Alas…that was not the case. But a love like mine does not admit impediments. I want the chance to woo her, to court her. I want the chance to make her see how wonderful things could be for us. Unfortunately, she has disappeared, and even her closest friends claim not to know where she is. I spoke with Clark Kent, as you know, and all he would say is that she needed time away.”

“So?”

“So I believe that you, Superman, know where Miss Lane is.”

“Why would you think that?”

“She disappeared in the middle of Perry White’s retirement party. She didn’t take her car, nor did she take a plane, bus, taxi, or train. I’ve checked.”

“That’s sick, Luthor,” Clark spat.

Luthor went on, completely unperturbed. “The only way she could have gotten out of Metropolis without my knowing it is if she disappeared into thin air…literally. You’re the only one I know who could make that happen. I suspect the uninspiring Mr. Kent knows more than he was telling, but since he was unwilling to help me, I’m turning to you.”

“You live in a fantasy world, Luthor. Neither Clark nor I will ever help you find Lois.”

“I see. Then, I suppose I’ll have to find another use for you.” Luthor made as if to pour himself a glass of wine, turning the tap on a dusty cask. As he did so, a cage dropped down from the ceiling, enclosing Clark completely.

Clark gave his would-be captor an incredulous look. “You know that bars won’t hold me.”

“Oh,” Luthor said, “I think they will.” He pulled a small remote control device from his pocket, and the instant he hit the button, Clark felt the pain strike. He instinctively took a step to move away from it, and just as his hands gripped the bars of his cell, they began to glow a sickly green. Clark reared back as if he’d been hit with a cattle prod, and with nothing to hold on to, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“I think that you, Superman, are the reason Lois refused to marry me,” Luthor said. “I wonder what she would do to save you, hmm? It will be interesting to find out. You see, it’s a win-win proposition for me. If she’s willing to trade herself for her beloved hero, then I’ll get the girl. If she’s not…then I’ll have the pleasure of watching you die. Of course, you’ll die either way, but my dear Lois won’t know that.” He smiled, and even through the haze of pain and nausea, Clark could see the light of insanity in his eyes. “A fantasy world?” Luthor asked softly. “Perhaps. But it’s all about to come true.”

Clark heard the sound of footsteps and then the slamming of a door. He forced himself to look around his cell, around the room, to see if there was anything he could use to break free, but there was nothing…nothing but a pain so all-encompassing that he soon gave himself up to it, abandoning all hope of escape.

__________________________

A/N: It’s probably obvious, but once again much dialogue in the last scene was borrowed from “The House of Luthor” written by Deborah Joy Levine and Dan Levine. I owe my wonderful husband a debt of inspiration for Clark's obsession with his shirt. I have no idea if Clark would actually be that way, but I've had many conversations like that with my husband, who forms strong and baffling attachments to pieces of clothing. Things I think should be dust rags, he thinks of as absolute treasures. I will never understand it, but I'm not above having a little fun with it in a fic.

I do hope you’re enjoying the story, and as always, all comments are welcome and appreciated. Thanks for reading smile