From part 2 (revised)
Another scream, this one more strangled and pain-filled than the last, reached Lois via the phone line. On Lucy's stifled scream, the phone clicked and left Lois horrified.
As her pulse quickened and a chill ran up her spine, Lois wondered fearfully if she'd ever see her sister again.
She ran to the window and yelled for Superman. It was the only thing she could think of to do.
~Part 3~
It had been more than ten mintues and Clark hadn't showed up. Apparently, there was a mudslide in Tibet or something. She hadn't paid much attention to the news after she had heard that Superman was on the scene. It was probably too late for him to do anything anyway.
Trying to remember what people did when they didn't yell for Superman, she dialed 911 and informed the police of the situation. The emergency dispatcher said that officers would be at Lucy’s apartment momentarily.
Still, Lois panicked.
Lucy was going to die. Lucy, her baby sister, Lulu, was going to die.
She was sure of it. The way the man on the phone had sounded, the way
Lucy had screamed so shrilly, it could only mean one thing. She was going
to die.
Trying to calm her fears, she picked the phone back up and began to
dial Clark's number. Then, realizing what she was doing, Lois slammed
down the phone with a force that she was surprised didn't break the receiver.
How frustrating! The person she needed most, was the one she had sworn
never to talk to again. Not to mention that he was curretly battling mud in Tibet.
She didn't like it that her first instinct was to run to
Clark, even though she had just spent the twenty-minute walk from his apartment
running away from him. When she really needed Superman, it
turns out she needed Clark who *was* Superman. But she couldn't need Clark, because she was angry at Clark, and yet she needed Superman to save Lucy. Lois was starting to confuse herself. But if Lucy was in danger...
<Forget it. If Clark didn't come this time, what's to say he'll help me later?> Lois thought, <Besides, I can save her myself. And get a story to boot. I am an investigative reporter after all.>
<Some investigative reporter, Lois,> an annoying little corner of her mind
whispered. <He fooled you with a pair of glasses and a slicked back hairdo.>
It surprised her that he hadn't tried to talk to her yet. Usually when they argued, Clark would want to talk about it as soon as possible. Maybe he finally decided to give her some space.
Lois shook her head. This was not the time to think about Clark. It was bad enough that he kept invading her thoughts, but, trying to deal wit him right now was inconvenient. She had better things to do than waste her time on the man she loved.
<But Lucy doesn't,> the little voice in her head nagged.
Lois grabbed her coat and purse and hurried out the door, hoping to beat the police to Lucy's apartment. Since Lucy had moved back to Metropolis, Lois had only been there twice, and she prayed that she'd remember how to get there in a hurry. Maybe she would call Superman again once the police left, that way he could take a look at the crime scene without them hanging over his shoulder.
***
<I blew it. I completely blew it.> Clark lay on his bed, although he had no intention of sleeping. He didn't think he could, even if he tried. He had just gotten home from Tibet, and thrown the Suit, which was covered in mud, into the washing machine. He had managed to save two-thirds of the people at the scene, but hadn't been able to stop the mudslide from wrecking most of the homes.
And his thoughts were still on Lois.
Of all the ways for Lois to find out he was Superman, all the ways he
had dreamt of telling her, this had not been one of them.
She hadn't even yelled at him. She had just stormed out without a single word which, he admitted, was rare for Lois. She should have been yelling at him, throwing things at the wall, screaming. Those he expected. Silence from her was an entirely new experience.
He hadn't had a chance to explain, or even to apologize. She had just left,
so quickly that it almost made him wonder which of them had superspeed.
After sitting alone, bewildered, for at least a minute, he gathered
what was left of his wits and tried to analyze the situation.
Lois knew he was Superman. Lois was mad. Lois did not deal well with anger. Lois was probably going home. An angry Lois was not a safe Lois. She wouldn’t be paying attention to the cars on the street or the
Metropolis crazies that hid in the alley, waiting for a pretty, young woman like her to walk past.
Deciding that Lois was, almost certainly, likely to place herself in danger, Clark spun into the Suit and dove out the balcony window. Spotting her, he decided to follow her home, flying about a hundred feet over her head. Her brisk pace saddened him. She was practically running. Away from him. Not that he could blame her. The entire thing had been his fault. He knew he shouldn't have invited her over. It had been new territory for both of them. The combination of New Year’s Eve, and the fact that they were closer friends than ever, should have warned him not to call her up that afternoon to ask her over for pizza and a movie. He had known very well what was traditional at midnight. He had pushed their relationship too far, and now he was paying for it. And she was too. She was paying for his mistake. He could see how much she was hurting.
And yet, he was almost glad that she had found out. It wasn't, of course, the way he had planned to tell her, but at least there were no more secrets between them. Except for the fact that he was so hopelessly in love with her that he could hardly breathe half the time around her.
It had all happened so fast, he was still adjusting to what her knowing meant. He wouldn't have to make any more excuses to her when he heard a cry for help. She'd be there to cover for him with Perry when he needed it. Or at least, he hoped she would. He wouldn't have to lie to her every day, which before tonight, had been the hardest part of it all. He would be able to use his superpowers freely around her when they were tracking a story, saving time. That is, if she still wanted to work with him.
Lying in bed hopelessly, Clark wanted desperately to talk to her. He wanted to
simply fly over to her apartment and explain everything.
He couldn't, though. Lois had made it perfectly clear that she needed
her space.
Clark sighed and turned off the lamp. It was going to be a long night.
***
"If we find out anything else, Lois, we'll call you," Inspector Henderson assured her as he left, looking apologetic.
Lois thanked him and flopped down on the old blue couch, totally drained. The police hadn't been much help. They hadn't found anything linking an attacker to the incident. Only Lucy's finger prints on the telephone, only Lucy's blood on the linoleum floor. There was only a small puddle of liquid, not enough to mean that Lucy had bled to death. From the way the blood had been smeared, it looked like the attacker had dragged Lucy. It also looked like she hadn't put up much of a fight. Lois figured that the man had cut Lucy somewhere, causing enough pain to make her scream, and then had knocked her unconscious. Henderson had confirmed her thoughts after the forensics team had made its preliminary examination.
But why would anybody want to hurt Lucy? Who could hate her enough to come into her kitchen, stab her, and then kidnap her? The usual answer in such attacks was an ex-boyfriend gone crazy. As far as Lois could tell, all of Lucy's ex-boyfriends were already crazy. Still, it was worth checking into.
Lois began to rise, only to discover that her left foot had fallen asleep and was now full of pins and needles. She hobbled over to the oak desk that Lucy had studied at. The days of studying long past, household needs seemed to have taken over the desk, littering it with stacks of paperwork and overdue bills. Underneath it all sat the answering machine. Lois pushed the "Play" button, hoping for a message from her sister's flavor-of-the-week.
"You have three new messages," the mechanical voice informed Lois.
"Message one: 'Hello, Ms. Lane, this is Margaret Dumont from Bank One calling about your loan application…'" Lois skipped the rest of the message. It wasn't what she was looking for, and she didn't particularly want to know about Lucy's financial situation. They'd deal with that if she came back. When she came back.
The second message was a hangup, but the third was much more helpful. A slurred, masculine voice growled into the phone, "Hey Lucy, baby, how's it goin'? Cha'lie gave me ya message. Said ya don't wanna see me no more. 'S that true, Luce? Call me. Ya know the numba."
So Lucy had dumped her boyfriend. Generally speaking, people don't like to get dumped. But did this guy dislike it enough to hurt her, even kill her? Lois copied down the phone number provided by the caller ID and stuffed the piece of paper in her pocket. With her first lead tucked safely away, Lois yawned. She couldn't fall asleep, though. She wouldn't. She had promised Henderson that she would leave soon, and she was pretty sure he was watching the house and would get worried if she didn't come out until morning.
She walked to the window, opened it, and yelled, "Superman!"
Lois knew that if anyone could find her sister, it was Superman. She had decided on the way to Lucy's apartment that her sister's life was far more important than her own selfish feelings over Clark.
With a 'whoosh' he appeared, hovering outside the window. "Lois, thank
God, we need to…"
"There you are! Took you long enough. Clark, I don't want to talk about that stuff right now. I have more important things to deal with. To make a long story short, Lucy has been kidnapped and hurt and I need you to help me get her back." She kept her tone even, careful not to let a hint of emotion into her voice. She couldn't handle him feeling sorry for her right now.
"Look, Lois, can I come in?"
"Sure, but, can you fit through the window?"
"I know how to use a door, Lois," he pointed out. Before she could blink, he had disappeared. She heard a knock at the front door.
The moment she let Clark in, Lois began talking, and avoided looking at him. This would be strictly business. At least he was still in the Suit. It would make it easier for her to talk to him.
"Can you, uh, X-ray the place, and see if you find any clues? I think it might have been an ex-boyfriend that Lucy recently dumped."
He looked around the front room, obviously concentrating, and then stopped. "In the kitchen," he told Lois. She followed him into the next room, anxious to see what he had found.
He went to the breakfast bar and picked up something from its edge. "It’s a hair, but it's not your sister's."
"How do you know?" Lois asked, doubtful that it was anything more than a strand of Lucy's hair.
"Well, for one thing, it's red."
"Oh."
"Okay Lois, I'll take this down to the police station and have their forensics people analyze it. With any luck, they should be able to tell exactly who took Lucy using DNA from that hair. Get some sleep. If you want to check out Lucy's boyfriend tomorrow, you're going to need to be at your best, which means you'll need to be rested."
And he was gone. Again. It was definitely going to take her a while to get used to Clark disappearing at superspeed all the time.
***
"Jimmy," Lois snapped, stepping off the elevator into the Daily Planet bullpen, "I need you to do me a favor."
The young photographer walked over to her. "What is it, Lois?"
She pulled a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to him. "I need you to trace this phone number, get me a name and an address."
"Sure, Lois, but what's this for? Another story?"
"Don't ask questions, Jimmy, just get the information." She walked to her desk, without so much as glancing towards the desk of her partner. Clark Kent didn't deserve the time of day at the moment, and she didn't intend to give it to him. The only thing on her mind was Lucy, and how to save her.
She sighed. <The old fashioned way, I guess,> she thought. <with as little Superman help as possible.>
The thought frightened her. Since she had developed a relationship with Superman/ Clark she had become accustomed to taking more chances than she normally would, knowing that he'd be there to save her if she needed it. Now, she wasn't so sure. She didn't know if she could stop herself from taking those risks, she no longer knew where to draw the line between safety and harm's way. She would remember, though; she had to. No other option existed. Except for Clark, but he didn't count. Not anymore.
She sat down and logged into her computer. She didn’t see Clark come up behind her.
"Lois?" he asked, more quietly than usual.
"Clark!" she gasped.
"Look, Lois, about last night…"
"I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I think it would be a good idea if we didn't ever talk about it. Because, you see Clark, I have a lot of garbage happening right now, as you know, and I'm liable to try to staple your head or something but, oh yeah, it wouldn’t hurt because you're invincible!" she hissed, making sure to keep her voice down so the other reporters wouldn't hear her. Even though he had hurt her, she couldn't bring herself to betray his secret.
"Lois…" he pleaded, but his words were cut off by her cold response.
"Go away, Clark."
She watched him walk back to his desk, sit down, and begin to sulk. He sat there, so sad-- so hurt, because of her. The guilt took over her body, spreading like an untreatable cancer.
<Give him a chance to explain,> her heart reasoned. Her mind however, fought back.
<He lied to you. He betrayed your trust. No explanation can change what he did.>
<But he looks so sad.>
<He hurt you! He's no different than the other scum you've dated.>
Ready to burst into tears from the mere frustration of it, Lois hollered for Jimmy again instead. It was safer. If she started to cry, she knew that Clark would immediately be at her side, comforting her, holding her. Making her forgive him because it was just too hard to hate him. Lois didn't want that. She wanted to be mad.
"Jimmy!"
***
Two hours later, Lois glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand. She had scribbled the name and address of Lucy's ex-boyfriend on it.
Philip Atkins. How many serial killers were named Phil? It was a safe name, Lois assured herself. After all, most mass murderers had names like "Al" or "Clyde" or, Lois thought with disgust, "Claude." With names like those, they were bound to be criminals. But people with nice, normal names like "Betty" or "Sheldon" or "Phil" usually turned out to be accountants, in Lois' experience.
Still, Lois had to check out every avenue of investigation, even the avenue of "Phil." She walked up to the door of the elegant house. It was something straight out of the Victorian era. The towering house was painted a classic white, but, the paint was chipping away, revealing specks of black. From the base to the towering gables above her, it was magnificent, though somewhat rundown. Somehow, she couldn't imagine this to be the home of her sister's kidnapper.
Lois approached the door, a chill running down her spine. Sternly, she reminded herself that things were not always as they seemed.
<Like Clark> The thought came unbidden, yet it lingered. Who would have thought that a superhero in tights could also be a friendly, gentle, kind, caring, loving…No! She had to stop thinking like that! Appearances, like the hidden beauty of the house, meant nothing.
Knocking swiftly on the old wood of the door, Lois pushed all thoughts of Clark from her mind and tried to focus. Lucy was in danger. She needed to save Lucy. Period.
"Hello," said a young man, poking his head out into the cold winter air.
"Philip Atkins?" she asked.
<He looks like a Phil> though Lois. The man looked to be around twenty-five, though she suspected he might be a little younger. His eyes were too soft to be any older. He had soft brown hair, and dark eyes, framed by a pair of thick- rimmed glasses. He had a wiry build, unlike the muscular build Lois was used to seeing in Lucy's boyfriends. The man standing before Lois was not her sister's type at all. In fact, he looked like a geek.
"Yes. Can I help you?" Phil asked politely, still not venturing fully out into the cold.
"My name is Rebecca Summers, from the Daily Planet. I'd like to ask you some questions." On the drive to the suspect's home, Lois had decided to use an alias. It might keep the man from making the connection between her and Lucy.
"Sure, what is it?" he answered, still standing in the doorway.
For someone as geeky- looking as this man, he didn't appear to be very intelligent.
<Now that *is* a trait common to all Lucy's companions> Lois reflected snidely. Couldn't he see that she was freezing and would like to come in?
"Well, Mr. Atkins-"
"Phil," he corrected.
"Phil- this could take a while, are you sure you want to stand out here in the cold?" She was trying to be polite, but Lois was getting frustrated. This was not how she had hoped for the New Year to start.
"Well, I'm okay," Phil answered.
"Open the damn door and let me in before I freeze," Lois pushed herself into the house, and was greeted by a rush of warm air.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms Summers, I didn't know you were cold," he said, moving to take her coat. She let him, biting back the urge to elbow him.
"Yes, well… Do you know Lucy Lane, Phil?" Straight to the point, she didn't miss a beat. Any man willing to let a woman stand outside in the cold could easily be a murderer.
"Of course I do. She and I went out for what would have been a year, come February." He led the way into the living room, sat down on a plush white sofa, and motioned for Lois to do the same. She sat, still uncomfortable in the presence of this man. She wasn't quite sure why, she just had a strange feeling about him.
"Would have been?" she asked, "Does that mean you aren't together anymore?"
"I'm afraid so. She dumped me about a week ago, said there was somebody else." Phil shrugged, "It was too bad. I adored her, worshipped her. Lucy was perfect."
Lois raised her eyebrow. "She was human. I'm sure Lucy was far from perfect, Mr. Atkins."
"Phil."
"Phil. What makes you say that she was perfect?" So much for a motive. This man apparently held no dislike of Lucy because of the breakup, or for any other reason. He appeared to be no more than sad that she had walked out of his life.
"She was just perfect. And beautiful. Oh, God, was Lucy beautiful. Her hair, Ms. Summers, was the finest specimen I have ever seen. Extraordinary in every way, texture, color, how it felt between my fingers. Its gossamer beauty took my breath away. It was, in fact, a lot like yours." He reached across the couch, which seemed to be getting smaller by the minute, and touched Lois' dark hair.
She shivered, a sudden feeling of despair coming upon her. "Are you aware that Lucy disappeared recently? She was kidnapped from her apartment."
"No, I had no idea. That's awful. Do you know who took her? Is she okay?" His face showed nothing but horror and anxiety, not the nervous apprehension or guilt that Lois had hoped for. So much for Phil as a suspect.
"If we know who took her, do you think I'd be sitting here, talking to you?" When he gave no reply, Lois added one of her own. "No, didn't think so. Now, I really do have to get going. Oh, one more thing before I leave, Phil. Where were you on the night of January 1st, around 1 AM?"
"Well, Ms., I don't really remember. You see, I woke up the next morning with an awful hangover. My friend Charlie said I was at the bar most of the night." He looked at Lois nervously.
"Well, if you suddenly remember that you kidnapped her or something, give me a call."
Lois stood, grabbed her coat from the old-fashioned coat rack, and let herself out of the house and back into the cold, leaving Phil behind with his mouth hanging open.
A dead end. Her only lead, turned sour. The only useful thing she had managed to extract from their conversation was that her sister had dumped Phil for another man. Now all she had to do was find out who the new man was. She jumped at the shrill ring of her cell phone. Unzipping her purse, she took it out.
"Lois Lane," she answered automatically.
"Lois it's me," said Clark. He didn't sound quite like himself, but Lois ignored it.
"What do you want?" Her voice was cold, controlled. She didn't want to deal with her partner right now.
"Inspector Henderson called. They went back and surveyed Lucy's place. Lois, they found something interesting in her bathroom garbage can. A home-pregnancy test."
"What?" Lois exclaimed.
"It looks like your sister was expecting."
******************
Thanks for reading!
Caroline (who is not going to even comment on the cliffhanger <g>)
