Considering the speed at which Superman could move, Clark would have no difficulty in appearing to be virtually in two places at once, should he choose to do so.

As she left the bedroom, her heel caught on the place in the rug where the seam between the bedroom and living room carpet had begun to fray.

It wasn't really important, she decided. The important thing, now, was to find out what Clark was really doing if he wasn't chasing skirts. Once she knew for sure, she could drop the matter. She hadn't really wanted to prove that he was cheating on Lois, after all. Except for her suspicions about his extra-curricular activities, she liked her son-in-law. He was pretty hard to dislike, really. He had the kind of personality that attracted people, which was one of the things that had made her suspicious. Too often, a charming personality masked a darker secret, as Lex Luthor's had. She had never equated Clark with Lex, but it had made her wary.

After a few moments, her heart ceased its heavy thumping and she took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. There was no reason to be afraid. If she didn't watch it, she'd be heading into the bathroom for her tranquilizers, which she was trying very hard to learn to live without. Not only were they expensive, but they made her feel dependent on them, apprehensive when they weren't within reach. They reminded her unpleasantly of the time, years ago now, when the bottle of vodka, or any other alcoholic beverage, had been her constant companion, and it didn't matter that her doctor and Sam both had tried to tell her that it wasn't the same. To her, they were a sign of weakness: a crutch. She didn't want or need a crutch, ever again.

Sam blinked. The face in the printout was familiar. "Clark, I've seen this guy before."

"I may do that," Clark said. "I'll be back, shortly." He headed for the elevator at a half-run.