PREVIOUSLY...

She hesitated for a moment more, her heart going out to him. She loved him so much - and to see how everything that had happened today was tearing him up inside...

Suddenly coming to a decision, she stepped in front of him. Pushing Shadow gently to one side, she removed Clark hands from where they were holding his face and dropped to her knees in front of him, still holding his hands in her own. “Marry me, Clark,” she said. “We could go down to City Hall today and just get it done. There’s no waiting period or blood tests required in New Troy. This will all go away if we just get married.”



AND NOW...

He withdrew one of his hands from hers to cup her cheek. “No, Lois.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“I want to marry you. You know that. There’s nothing I want more than to make you my wife. To be your husband.”

“Then let’s just do it.”

“But I want you to marry me because you can’t imagine your future without me in it. Not because...” He waved his hand in the air abstractly.

“But that’s true, Clark. I can’t imagine a future without you in it. So... let’s just do it.”

Still, Clark shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to be pressured into marrying me just to prevent people from questioning Superman’s ‘moral authority’ - whatever that means. Can you really say that you’re ready to marry me?”

“I know that I love you. I know you’re my future.”

“But...”

She chewed momentarily on her lower lip before responding. “But there are still so many things we haven’t really discussed. And... My parents loved each other. They thought they were forever. And now they can’t stand to be in the same room together. It’s not you I’m not sure about. It’s... Are we really ready to know that we’re going to end up like your parents and not mine?”

He took her hands. “Lois, you aren’t your mother. And I’m not Sam Lane. But... I understand that you need time to figure that out for yourself. And until you do... When we get married, I want you to be sure.” He smiled then. “But I love you even more for asking.”

“Then how do we handle... all this.”

Clark sighed. “We don’t. Lois, I’ve always lived my life doing what I believed was right. I know there are people out there who see things differently. And I can respect that. But I can’t live my life according to what they believe I should or should not do.

“If things had happened differently,” he continued, “I suspect we wouldn’t have started out by living together. I suspect we would have dated for a time before I asked you to marry me - living together would have come after we got married. But I’m not going to apologize for the decisions I’ve made. I can’t live my life according to what other people think I should do. I can only try to live up to what I believe is right. That’s a hard enough task in itself.”

Her forehead came to rest against his. “If you change your mind, just say the word. I won’t be responsible for the fall of Superman.”

He smiled then. “You’ve always been his number one fan, haven’t you?”

“I even have the button and the t-shirt. But I’ve got to tell you, these days he’s got some competition. Lately I seem to have developed this huge crush on his alter-ego.”

* * * * * * * * *

Sheriff Rachel Harris looked up from her paperwork when she heard the door open. Two strangers stumbled into the room. One was an older man, short salt and pepper hair that was more salt than pepper. He was wearing what probably had once been a very nice wine colored dress jacket with shirt, tie and trousers that matched. With him was a younger black man who was much more casually dressed. Around the second man’s neck hung what had at one point probably been a very expensive camera.

Both men looked completely disheveled, solidly caked with dirt and traces of blood on their clothes, hands and face. Their clothing was tattered and torn. Their hair was sticking out at odd angles.

The two men approach the front counter.

“I’m Deputy Aaron Stiller. Can I help you?” the young man behind the counter asked.

“Yes, we’re here to demand that you arrest the crazy farmer who sent his attack bull after us and shot up our car,” the older man said.

“Attack bull?” Deputy Aaron asked skeptically.

“Yes, attack bull. We were just walking across a field when this crazy bull came out of nowhere. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”

“Are you saying there’s a bull out there, just wandering around, attacking people?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I’ll handle this, Aaron,” Rachel said, rising to her feet and approaching the front counter.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“Sheriff Harris. And you are?”

“Leo Nunk. National Inquisitor. And this is Lamont, my photographer. So what are you going to do about the bull?”

Rachel took out a complaint form. “Perhaps you can describe this bull for me,” she said.

“What’s to describe? It’s a bull.”

Rachel’s eyebrows rose. “This is Kansas, Mr. Nunk. There are lots of bulls around here. I have to identify which bull you’re accusing of this horrendous crime if I’m going to take your complaint.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all. So what color was this bull?”

“Brown.”

“Distinguishing marks?”

“What’s that suppose to be? Funny?”

Rachel put down her pen. “Are you being difficult, Mr. Nunk? I need answers to these questions if I’m going to file this complaint. Or... perhaps you aren’t telling us everything. You wouldn’t happen to have been trespassing on private property when you encountered this bull would you? ‘Cause I just might have to charge you with trespassing if you were.”

“Okay, forget about the damn bull,” Nunk said. “What are you going to do about the crazy farmer who took a shot gun to my car? It’s a rental and it’s not covered for shot gun damage.”

“Should have got that shot gun damage coverage,” Rachel muttered before asking, “Where was this car parked?” She looked at him suspiciously. “You wouldn’t have been parking on private property, would you?”

“What’s this? Shake down the city folk? I’m a reporter and trust me when I say that I’m a hair’s breath away from writing up a story about this.”

“City reporter writing a negative story about Kansas hicks. Boy, that’s never been done before,” Rachel said. “How will we ever survive?”

She turned at the sound of laughter behind her as the two reporters stormed out of the Sheriff’s Office. Rachel picked up the complaint form, tearing it in half. “Guess that means they don’t want to file a complaint,” she said, winking at Aaron.

* * * * * * * * *

“Lois, I’ve been thinking about that denial issue Dr. Klein mentioned.”

Lois removed the earphones and stopped the tape as soon as Clark began speaking. She had just started listening to the tape she’d retrieved from MGH this morning when Clark had approached. Nothing of interest yet. Just nurses taking readings and meaningless chatter. So Clark’s interruption was more than a welcome respite.

She glanced around. No one was nearby. “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind? Are you going to say you aren’t Superman?” The final word was said only loud enough for superears to possibly hear.

“I don’t think I have a choice. The longer this goes on without me making a denial, the more people will just come to accept that it’s true. Then even if we do find a way out of this, by then no one is going to believe I’m not Superman. This, at least, keeps the question open.” As he spoke, Clark took a seat in the chair next to her desk.

“And if we don’t find a way to convince people that they’re barking up the wrong tree with this Superman allegation...”

“I’ll deal with that then. But after last night... Lois, I think I have to do this. For my own defense. For your defense. For my parents’ defense. After all, since the Dirt Digger wasn’t the only publication to publish pictures from inside our apartment this morning...”

“But the Dirt Digger had the best pictures,” Lois objected.

“Do you really think that is going to be enough to convict them in a court of law?”

“No,” Lois said defeated. “So how are you going to make this denial? Talk to Eduardo?”

Clark shook his head. “I think it has to be more public than that.”

“Well, there are a whole crowd of reporters gathered out front who would just love to get a statement from you.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“But given Perry’s comments at the meeting this morning, I think you should talk to him first.”

Clark nodded. “That was my next stop - provided that you agreed that I should do this.”

Lois smiled. He was learning. “I agree,” she said.

“I’m also thinking that I should sign the release for Eduardo to talk to Dr. Scott.”

* * * * * * * * *

Clark took a deep breath before tapping his way over to Eduardo’s desk. He knew that Eduardo had spotted him when the man quit typing on his keyboard.

“Can I help you?” Eduardo asked.

Clark shook his head. “But maybe I can help you. Do you still want me to sign a release form so that you can talk to Dr. Scott?”

“Yes. Absolutely,” Eduardo said, fumbling around on his desk to find the appropriate form.

After a moment, he placed the form in Clark’s hand. “Uhh...” Clark said, removing a pen from his inside jacket pocket. Then he took the form again and held it out for Eduardo. “Could you?”

“Oh, right. Of course.” He took the form. “What do you want me to do?”

“First... would you mind reading it to me?”

“Right. Of course,” Eduardo said before reading the form. It was a standard release of information.

“Put the form on the desk and then place my hand where you need my signature.”

Eduardo immediately did as Clark had asked.

Clark hesitated momentarily. Did he really trust that this form was what Eduardo had said it was? Yes, he decided. He did. Leaning over, Clark signed the form, before asking, “By the way, do you need me to give a statement denying that I’m Superman?” He tried to keep the question casual.

Eduardo snorted. “Trust me, Kent. After working with you for more than a year, I know you’re no Superman.”

A light suddenly went on in Clark’s mind. Maybe... Just maybe... he could make use of this. And he suddenly realized why Perry had chosen Eduardo to look into Mayson’s claim. Perry must have spoken briefly to Eduardo, feeling him out, before giving him this assignment. Perry really was a crafty old dog.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois straightened Clark’s tie as they stood just inside the glass doors of the Daily Planet together.

“You ready for this?” she asked.

“As ready as I’m ever going to be,” Clark responded. “I just hope this does some good.”

“At least we’re doing something,” Lois said. She reached up to place her hand on the back of his head before pulling him down so that she could plant a kiss on his lips. Through her eyelids, she could see the flashes of cameras snapping pictures from the other side of the doors, but she ignored it. Hopefully, this statement would make those pictures worthless.

Okay, so maybe she was being a little optimistic. Still, as she’d told Clark, at least it was better than doing nothing. And more than that, it told Lois that Clark was finally ready to fight back.

“For luck,” she said when the kiss broke.

He smiled, obviously remembering the last time when she’d kissed him for luck - just before he’d gone to break up the asteroid. It had worked that time - after a few hiccups. Perhaps it would work again.

She reached up and used the pad of her thumb to wipe the lipstick off his mouth. Then she bent down and finger combed Shadow’s fur. “You both look great. Now... get out there and kick butt - both of you.”

* * * * * * * * *

Clark took a deep breath when he stepped outside the Daily Planet with Shadow. The sound of a hundred questions all being yelled at the same time was practically deafening. If he wasn’t careful, he would end up both blind and deaf. And although he was fairly certain he and Lois would find a way to communicate even if both were true, he would rather not find out.

He raised his free hand, determined not to say a word until everyone was silent. He would stand here as long as it took. Or... he could always turn around and walk back inside if they didn’t give him a chance to speak, leave them cooling their collective heels for about an hour before coming back to try again. He suspected the next time he came out, they would decide that getting a statement was more important for their various publications than trying to outshout each other.

It took a couple minutes, but finally silence settled on the crowd.

“I have a short statement to make...” He began, lowering his hand.

“Are you Superman?” someone shouted. The question prompted others to begin asking questions. Fewer than before. But still enough that he would have to yell if he were to be heard above the crowd. He had no intention of doing that so he simply fell silent again.

He waited until the questions again died away before starting again.

“I have a short statement to make. For those of you wondering, my faithful companion’s name is Shadow. As for my name... My name is Clark Jerome Kent, son of Martha and Jonathan Kent. And as people who know me will tell you, I’m no superman.”

The questions started again.

Clark stood still, holding up his free hand until the crowd fell silent once again. “If you keep interrupting me, we’ll be here all day. And as a reporter myself, I know the importance of deadlines - and what it’s like dealing with an editor when they’re missed.”

This brought a slight chuckle from some among the crowd.

“So if you’d just give me a minute to complete my statement...” He waited and this time there were no questions. “As for why Mayson Drake is claiming that I’m Superman... I guess you’re going to have to ask her what her motivation is.” He paused momentarily. “I would ask that since I’m simply a private citizen and Lois Lane is also a private citizen, you respect our privacy. Thank you.”

His statement finished, Clark turned and walked back through the doors of the Daily Planet even as the questions began again. He let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t actually lied, after all. But hopefully no one would realize that he hadn’t actually said he wasn’t Superman.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois turned off the tape in disgust. She’d spent half the day going through this tape and other than medical personnel dealing with Church and the constant flirting by Mindy Black - she seemed to be in there whenever she possibly could - nothing useful was on the tape. It seemed that Junior hadn’t returned during the course of the day and, although Lois could hardly believe it, Mayson Drake hadn’t been by to see him either.

On the other hand, Mayson might have come by the day before to see Church - the day Lois and Clark had spent in Paris. So maybe that wasn’t so unexpected.

When she’d taken the tape from the recorder she’d left at Metropolis General Hospital, she’d put in a new tape. So maybe there was still a chance that she could get something useful tomorrow. But for today...

She took the earphones out and tossed them on the desk. Pulling out the transcript she’d made of the conversation between the two churches from earlier in the day, she read through it again.

Suddenly, she stopped and read it again.

“Between our guaranteed early release program and our retirement package when they’re released, it’s not in their interest to incriminate anyone.”

And then later...

“Oh, and I spoke to the doctor about getting you a new heart. I’m sure one of our dead men will be a match. I’ll make sure testing starts today.”

Her head instantly snapped up when she heard the elevator ding. When Clark entered the newsroom, she immediately called to him.

“Clark... Conference room,” she said before heading there herself.

Once the two of them were settled in the conference room and Shadow had been freed from his halter, Lois read Clark her transcript of the conversation she had recorded between the two Church men.

“It all fits,” she said. “The drug Intergang was working on: Resurrection. The conversation about Intergang’s ‘early release program.’ Even Junior’s comments about getting a heart from among their ‘dead men.’ Clark, I think Church plans to kill one of the men who have escaped from jail by pretending to be dead so that he can have a new heart.”

“Bet they didn’t think they were signing up for that when they agreed to be part of this ‘program,’” Clark said.

“But it’s a smart plan,” Lois said. Then, to Clark’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “In a sick, demented sort of way, of course. If they kill someone who is already considered dead, no one will ever find out.”

“But how do we warn people to watch out for Church when they’re already dead? At least, officially?”

Lois’ eyebrows crinkled together as she got lost in thought. “Or... what if they tested people and couldn’t find a match? What would stop them from making arrangements to bust someone out of prison who was a match - not telling them their plans for him, of course.” Lois suddenly looked in horror at Clark. “There was another death by natural causes last night. You don’t think...”

“Actually, I do,” Clark said grabbing the phone. As he dialed, he continued to speak. “When I spoke to the doctor out at Strykers this afternoon, he said all the men who had died of natural causes in the past three months had died of heart attacks. And you were right. No autopsies were performed. Anyway, he gave me a list of the people who have died and I noticed...” His attention was suddenly diverted to the phone in his hand. “Can I speak to Inspector Henderson? Tell him it’s Clark Kent and it’s an emergency.”

When he was put on hold, he continued with what he’d been telling Lois. “The people on the list... The people whose names I recognized seem to have... Let’s just say I suspect they are all people who were either high ranking in Intergang or have some obvious skill.”

“Like bomb maker for Sean Macarthy, the one who Dan thinks made the bomb for Mayson’s car.”

“Exactly. Intergang needs a bomb maker. They look through the prison rosters for the best person for the job and then break him out of prison.”

“You said there are people who were high ranking in Intergang. Like whom?”

“Diana Stride.”

“Diana Stride died in Strykers?”

“About a month ago. When you were out in Smallville.”

“So she’s back out there... somewhere.”

“I suspect she’s a long way from here by now. After all, Intergang used her as an assassin all over the world.”

“Anyway, you were saying?”

“Right. I noticed that the people whose names I recognized either had a skill or they were people who likely had some standing in Intergang. So I was surprised when I realized who had died last night.” Clark broke off again, turning his attention back to the phone in his hand.

“Hi, Bill. Sorry to disturb you, but as you know, Lois and I are working on story about the bombing of Mayson Drake’s car, and we found something that suggests that Intergang may be getting people out of prison using a drug which they call ‘Resurrection,’” Clark said.

As he spoke Lois clicked the button on the speaker phone so she could listen in.

“Go on,” Bill responded calmly.

Clark’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. “You knew?”

“Let’s just say you might not be the first person to have that thought.”

“Okay, well there’s something you may not have considered,” Clark said, forcing himself back to the reason for the urgency of his call. “Bill Church Senior needs a new heart. If they needed a match and didn’t want to wait until one came available on the transplant list... Everyone in Strykers has regular medicals don’t they?”

“You think the guy who ‘died’ last night might have been selected because he would be a match for Senior?” Henderson asked.

“It makes sense. Look at these names. The people who have ‘died’ of natural causes over the past three months. People of prominence. People with certain skills that might be useful to Intergang. Now look at last night’s name. Baby Rage. Why would Intergang take the risk of breaking a common street thug out of prison?”

Henderson was silent as he considered what Clark was saying.

“But if you suspected this was happening,” Lois said, “I assume you have Baby Rage’s body under guard to make sure that he doesn’t suddenly wake up.”

“Actually, no. We decided to use this opportunity to conduct a little sting operation. We’ve planted bugs and tracking devices in his coffin and are monitoring him now.”

“So where is he?”

Henderson hesitated.

“Come on, Bill,” Clark said. “You know us. You know we aren’t going to risk this operation. But if Baby Rage is still alive, he’s in real danger.”

Henderson let out a breath. “Sorry, Kent. But I can’t violate orders on this one. I’ll pass your message on, but it’s the best I can do.”

“Come on, Bill,” Lois said. “There’s got to be some way to get us in on this sting operation of yours.”

“Sorry. I really can’t do it this time,” Henderson said.

“Well, then can you pass another message on as well?” Lois asked.

“Depends.”

“Tell Mayson that we think that Intergang might be behind the plot to kill her. And tell her to stay away from Bill Church.” Even as she said the words, she mentally cursed. She may have just given away her one chance to record a conversation between Mayson and Church - her one chance to possibly discredit the woman. But Mayson’s life was in danger. There wasn’t any other choice.

“I’ll warn her,” Henderson responded, sounding slightly surprised, given everything that had happened in the past couple of days, that Lois would be concerned about Mayson.

“Thanks, Bill,” Clark said. “Oh, and when it’s possible...”

“I’ll make sure you have the story before we make a public statement,” Henderson said, the only concession he could give.

* * * * * * * * *

Lois and Clark spent the rest of the afternoon getting word out to their sources that they were looking for information on Resurrection or an ‘early release program’ from Strykers or anything to do with Intergang for that matter. But by the end of the day, they still hadn’t gotten any positive responses.

At one point, Clark had braved the mobs out front to take Shadow for a walk so he could do his business. What thrill anyone would get of pictures of him walking his dog, he couldn’t say. But given the amount of clicking he could hear when Shadow stopped at a fire hydrant, there was obviously some interest. Same with when he picked up after Shadow - at least in that he was giving children an example to follow.

Scardino had dropped by in the mid-afternoon and they’d brought him up to speed with their theory - without mentioning the sting operation they knew was currently in progress. He had informed them that he’d obtained some letters that Sean Macarthy sent to his mother from prison before his ‘death.’ They referred to him going to ‘a better place.’ Given that it seemed unlikely that Macarthy thought he was headed to heaven, it appeared to back up their theory that he had escaped.

Since Lois and Clark had also come across another drug, Nirvana, recently and Scardino was a DEA agent, they’d asked him in passing to see if he could find out if the DEA had any information on this new drug. He’d promised to make some calls.

Scardno wasn’t so bad once he had given up charming Lois. And nurturing a good relationship with him could be handy in the future. Having a potential source inside the DEA was certainly not a bad thing.

Finally, they’d gone to see Perry to bring him up to speed on their investigation. They still had no proof about people using this resurrection drug to escape from prison, but were hoping to have it once the sting operation was over. They also had no motive for why Intergang might want Mayson Drake dead - although that too seemed likely if they were the ones to bust Macarthy out of prison. Motive might not be something the police needed, but their readers often demanded it.

While talking to Perry, Clark had asked whether Eduardo’s story was expected to come out in the morning paper. Perry had said that Eduardo apparently had more sources he was trying to contact and so it wasn’t likely that the story would come out for at least another day.

In spite of Clark’s hopes that his statement might cause the crowds in front of the Daily Planet to, if not go away completely, at least cause it to thin out, the crowds was still thick as thieves by the end of the day. It appeared they would be under surveillance for at least one more night. Maybe when Eduardo’s story came out, that would change.

Lois thought he was being overly optimistic. Still, she said nothing. How this would all work out... She had no idea.

“So what do you want to do about supper?” Clark asked, taking a seat on the corner of Lois’ desk.

Lois leaned back in her chair. “Good question. If we order delivery again, we risk having them print what we had for supper in the morning edition of some paper - along with questions about my cooking abilities and whether Superman should really be involved with a woman who can’t cook.”

“Or we’d start getting questions about Superman’s eating habits being a bad influence on children.”

Lois smiled. “Well, we could always go out for groceries.”

“Since we will likely be followed when we leave for the evening, do we really want to risk having everyone find out what type of toilet paper we use?”

“I have an idea,” Lois said, picking up the phone. “How do you feel about one of Callards’ famous pasta concoctions?”

“We can’t go out to a restaurant, Lois. We’ll be completely overrun by paparazzi asking questions.”

“They have pick up.”

“But if we pick it up... won’t the paps who follow us home know that?”

“You’re right. If we pick it up, they will.”

Clark smiled when he suddenly saw where she was going with this. “Jimmy!” he yelled, saving her the trouble.

Maybe they were finally getting the hang of this thing.

* * * * * * * * *
Friday
* * * * * * * * *

Is Superman’s Lover A Sexual Predator?
The Metropolis Star
By Dom Arigato


The Star has received confirmation that Love Fortress Magazine, the most notorious of all porn magazines, will today publish an exclusive and very detailed interview with Claude Benoit, the first co-worker to allegedly have a sexual relationship with Superman’s lover, Lois Lane.

As well as giving intimate details about their sexual relationship, we’ve been informed that he claims Ms. Lane seduced him, a much more experienced reporter, in an attempt to sleep her way to the top of her profession and then had the nerve to accuse him of stealing her story, nearly destroying his reputation and forcing him into exile in France.

Love Fortress concludes its story with the speculation that Mr. Benoit’s claim that Lois Lane is not above sleeping her way to the top would also explain her near marriage to Metropolis’ most infamous criminal, Lex Luthor and calling on Superman to cut his ties with the woman.


* * * * * * * * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

ML wave


She was in such a good mood she let all the pedestrians in the crosswalk get to safety before taking off again.
- CC Aiken, The Late Great Lois Lane